#He's just so.................tragic but in a very stinky way

[tarmac-rat]

Hey hey I need to uuh hum fight you at the back of a Denny's or something over those tags on my cyberpunk post lile wtf? That's such a good analysis of his character I love your work a lot in general but this is doing me in I'm gonna cry, you're so fucking right about this dumb broken man 🥺😠

I will not fight you I will bake you a cake and give you a kiss because you're very sweet I appreciate your kindness 😘

I really love your perspective on Johnny's disabilities and addictions impacting how he sees and interacts with the world-- as someone who herself isn't disabled I tend to overlook the way people view the world through that lens and as a result have realized that I haven't touched upon it much in my own analysis of Cyberpunk, and your insight really was spot-on and spoke to me in a way I hadn't considered before.

I talk a lot about the themes and meta of the game but Pondsmith himself came out and said, like, before the game came out that Johnny is not the hero of the story. He THINKS he's the hero of the story but the way people and even himself idolize him and his actions are in many ways his biggest shortcoming. Johnny is addicted to the image of himself, much like he's addicted to his vices and addicted to his cause. He needs his anchors no matter how detrimental they are to him, but in many respects those anchors were never his choice. Now he's stuck in his place, dug in and unable to move, and that's the way he dies. Alone, unmoored, and stuck in his ways.

He's a very tragic and even empathetic character-- I do understand why he does the things he does and feel for him when he suffers tragedies-- but treating him as a hero of this story is wrong, in my opinion. He's a disabled, traumatized war veteran who was set up in life to fail at a very early age. His flaws are of his own making. They are not of his own design.

[rootspiral]

AGATHA ALL ALONG DEEP DIVE: episode 1 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7])

IT'S TIME TO REWATCH AGATHA ALL ALONG, WITCHES! And as usual, spoilers below.

episode 1, Seekest Thou The Road

Wanda is dead (no she ain't). As a result, her spell is weakened and Agatha has changed from her nosy neighbor character to detective Agnes (or caught the true crime bug, as Herb will put it.)

Stinky grimy Agnes, so serious and depressed. As soon as she appears onscreen she's humming the Ballad.

Detective Agnes has just been recalled to action after being off duty for a while. She was punished for "punching a suspect", which is code for going after Wanda. Agnes points out that now the suspect is a convicted felon, i.e. that she was right after all and Wanda is dangerous and evil. "I can't be right and wrong" she says. "Yes, you can" says Herb, because both Agatha and Wanda are villain and victim. And lol at the police tape symbolizing Herb's fence. You know the poor guy is in his garden looking down at Agnes in her Bonher family tshirt, wondering what the hell is going on.

oh that's a seriously good shot

Agatha looks heartbroken when she sees Wanda's body, doesn't she? She looks so sorry.

Herb (the real Herb behind the illusion) confirms that Agatha is acting different than usual.

THIRD TIME SHE DISCREETLY DRIES HER TEARS

There is nothing funny about Detective Agnes. Or rather, it's funny to watch her because she's so intense, but we laugh at her, she's not being a clown on purpose like Agatha usually is. And Agatha right now is in a lot of pain, even more than usual having completely lost her agency. This character so unkempt, so sad, so doggedly searching for answers, is more true to Agatha's real self than what she usually lets people see. Deep down she's just a tragic lesbian wet rat.

Somebody called in to have the body found, and I think that somebody was Rio. Why would the body be next to the water otherwise? It's like the River of Life laid her gently where Agatha could find her. In other words, Wanda's death brought her to Agatha. I'm curious about these woods too, we know they don't actually exist as this is all in Agatha's head, but where did the idea come from? Are these the woods where she killed the Salemites? Where she gave birth to Nicky? Or where she buried him?

Agatha's victims from the finale flashing throughout the opening. Wherever it may bend, I'll see you at the end.

"based on the danish series WANDAVISDYEN" never fails to destroy me. and it's so clever too, it's like they're telling first time watchers that yes, this seems like a grim detective show, but you clever audiences know that things are not as they seem and this is a parody, right?? this is not serious at all, it's funny! Laugh! Except. It's not funny. It's not funny at all. And you're going to realize only when it's too late. It's the same thing they do with Sharon/Mrs. Hart, they lure you in with laughs only to hit you with heartbreak. This show is not a comedy at all. It's at its very core a senseless tragedy.

Sarah/Dottie lives next door too, was Agatha talking to her through a window, or does the library desk symbolize another fence? This poor woman, hasn't she suffered enough? But they all more or less try to help Agnes, that's sweet. Has anyone from SWORD or whomever dropped in to talk to them, did the Avengers just decide to leave Agatha there? Did Monica (or Ralph) even explain to the poor people of Westview that she's a witch, or do they just think she's a random neighbor who couldn't be saved from Wanda's Hex?

THE MAILMAN CONTINUES BEING SUSPICIOUS. Is Agatha putting words in his mouth, or was he (the "messanger") sent by someone to warn her about the Darkhold being destroyed???

her FACE when she sees Rio

and the way Rio just stares and stares. When you rewatch this scene knowing that this is the first time she gets to see Agatha in centuries... and she has to be cool and she has to be gentle. I think it's deliberate that they put Phil/Harold/Ross Geller in here, because he's one of the funniest people in Westview and it's suggesting a first time viewer to read this scene as a comedy. Except it's a cosmic tale of tragedy and heartbreak, but you're not supposed to notice yet, even if it's right there under your nose.

Stop being such a lone wolf, Agnes. Or rather, stop being such a sad and lonely covenless witch, Agatha.

Rio laughs her delighted little laugh, licks her lips, looks out the window for a moment as if overwhelmed, then goes back looking at Agatha and basically devouring her with her eyes. ("te veo.") (thank you for my life aubrey plaza.) Agatha stares daggers back, but her body language stars getting defensive. She feels very vulnerable.

Yep, defensive. And wistful.

She is doing her job, like always. But she's also going above and beyond. There is technically no need for her to wake Agatha up, but here she is, dropping gentle clues, guiding her with such patience and care.

"If you wanna be in control you can be" is said in such a kind tone, but it's also sexy?? I think Rio really likes for Agatha to take control, in a lot of ways. Her body language is the opposite of what Agatha is doing too.

Oh noes she's making herself so small now. She's like, intrigued and angry and happy and scared to see Rio. They're both being so tentative!! And she doesn't actually know who Rio is because she's under the damn spell, so her body language and feelings are pure instinct. They come from somewhere very very true and deep. (and LOL that mug says "get a clue")

Is this who you are now, Agatha? the intense but lonely detective? she's genuinely interested, because Rio investigates Agatha just as Agatha investigates everybody else. Rio simply cannot get enough of her. and she keeps talking with this gentle, warm, understated tone.

Gains personal space. Keeps staring and staring.

oh now we're leaning. they do this every scene they are together, they keep getting closer and closer even if they don't mean to, like magnets.

Agatha literally bolts to the door and tells her to leave. Rio's presence is so overwhelming in so many different and complicated ways, and she doesn't even understand why that is at the moment. Kathryn Hahn is playing this perfectly straight (no pun intended), there is genuine pain in her voice.

"Te veo", which is not "see you," but I see you, I'm always looking for you, I'm always watching. And I finally see you, after all this time.

Oh, honey.

I'm running out of space again, but I promise I'll continue this tomorrow. Thank you for all the notes you guys, I was not expecting so many! I'm doing this mostly to amuse myself, but it's nice to know that the brainrot is collective 🙃🙃🙃

go to the next entry

[ponderingmoonlight]

Chapter 3: Entangled Ambitions - A Pact Sealed in Royal Halls

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: reader's death, language

Genre: Isekai, Romance, Fantasy

Synopsis: Your life takes a tragic turn as you perish in a car crash, only to awaken in a whimsical world of fantasy with none other than Jujustu Kaisen characters as its main protagonists. But as if that wasn't enough, you're about to marry the prince version of Gojo Satoru. How will you navigate through this world of history and fantasy? Does your life take the same sudden twist of fate as that of your favorite characters?

<- Previous Chapter l Next Chapter ->

Satoru’s heart stops beating for a moment, eyes widen at the harsh words you just spit at him. How would someone like you know about his powers? He was always keen to hide them, never used his abilities in the presence of someone apart from Suguru and his family. He doesn’t even know you that well. You, the daughter of Naobito Zenin. How on earth did you find out?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You clear your throat, nerves threatening to fail you. This is the only chance you have left. If Gojo Satoru doesn’t rethink his decision…No, there is no way you’ll die again.

“I am talking about your ability to manipulate the area around you freely, the fact that you can distort space. You are also able to create barriers and voids that nullify any incoming attacks, which makes you almost invincible in battle and is responsible for your great reputation as a fighter. But if your followers get to know about the real reason behind your skills…You know how great the fear of people with special powers is in this country, that all of them get executed. Not even Your Majesty will be spared from this.”

You are walking on thin ice. He is the prince, after all. So much higher in his rank that it would be easy for him to get you executed due to false accusations. But this might be the only card you have left, your last spark of hope. If Gojo Satoru won’t marry you, your father will let you get killed. And apart from that, this might be the only chance you’ll get to meet your favourite characters. What about Geto and Nanami? If Naoya and Gojo exist, they are definitely somewhere in this world as well. You are literally living the dream of every anmie and manga fan.

Well, except for the stinging fact that you call Naobito your father and Naoya your stinky brother.

“That are some heavy accusations you’re throwing at me, Lady (y/n). You know as well as I do that I could get you executed right on the sport for your unwise words despite the fact that you are a daughter of the Zenin family”, he replies.

The way he crosses his legs while smiling down at you arrogantly makes the urge to fall onto your knees and beg him for forgiveness grow louder and louder. But no, this is exactly what he wants. At the moment, all Prince Satoru does is playing and testing you. You can’t allow yourself to be messed with. After all, he has absolutely zero clue about what he is in your old world, that you actually died and reincarnated here. He definitely does know that your life depends on his mercy, though. And that your proposal benefits both of you.

“Why did you decide on marrying me in the first place? Was it because you fell in love with my portrait or rather because your family forced you to choose a wife and you thought I wouldn’t cause trouble because I’m a Zenin, because you considered I would urge to get away from my possessing family as soon as possible?”

Threatening him any further has no use. After all, Gojo is aware of the fact that you know about his hidden talent. Instead, you should focus on things you can actually prove, things that are obvious.

“You are a very loudmouthed young lady. I expected you to be more sublime. As a member of the famous Zenin family, you sure got taught etiquette and obedience from a young age, didn’t you?”

He can’t help himself. Just one look into your glimmering lavender eyes makes him provocative you even further. Of course, every little thing you said is true. Yes, your words are a serious threat on his way to the throne. Yes, his family does in fact urge him every single day to decide on a wife. Your proposal is the best solution for both of you, allows him to carry on with his unbothered life without the responsibility to satisfy his finance’s needs. But still…

“I couldn’t care less about my ancestry, Prince Satoru. All I care about is my own freedom”, you clarify, determination dripping from each and every pore of your face.

“And if you don’t decide on helping me, I have to find another gentleman who suits my requirements better.”

“Another gentleman? You are aware of the fact that I’m the prince, right?”

Out of all the arguments you brought up in this conversation, this one is the one that bugs him the most. Out of some strange reason, the sheer thought of you getting promised to another man doesn’t sit right with Satoru.

“As a prince, you are far above my status anyway. If it weren’t for politics and the reliability when it comes to the advanced weapon technology of my family, I wouldn’t even be considered as your fiancé”, you argue in all seriousness.

“What if I don’t allow you to marry another man?”

“Then I will find my ways to do so.”

“Fine, I will propose to you at the ball this weekend.”

Wait…what? After all the arguments, the discussions and the stinging fact that he stares at you with narrowed eyes, he actually agreed on it? Just when you’re about to thank him and leave, he gets up and opens his full mouth.

“But I want to re-arrange the conditions to suit my needs as well.”

Your pounding heart almost stops inside of your chest. For a moment, you just sit there and stare at him plainly like an idiot. Gojo Satoru, having conditions? This definitely doesn’t sound appealing at all. But do you really have another chance? It might be true that you are able to find another gentleman, the anger of your father will carry on, though. And who knows if he wouldn’t kill you even if you marry another wealthy man. No, this engagement is your best and eventually only option.

“What conditions are we talking about, precisely?”

“Once a week, I am allowed to present you as my fiancée in a way I will decide on my own. As the prince and future ruler of this country, I need to reflect a strong relationship with my future queen to the outside. It has to be credible. Everyone must think that we are deeply in love with each other, Lady (y/n).”

Shivers run down your spine before you’re able to stop them. Just one look into his blue thirsty eyes…This man won’t touch you even in your sleep. Doesn’t he have multiple young women just waiting for a chance to hit on him? Playing his wife for an additional day of the week. How wasteful, considering that you’ll never be more than his fiancée, that this engagement will get cancelled the minute it doesn’t benefit both of you anymore.

“I will fulfil my role over the span our engagement last and accept your addition, Prince Satoru.”

“Great! Now that this is out of the way, let me tell you one last thing.”

Before you’re even able to react any further, he grabs your arm and pulls you close. For a moment, you forget how to breathe, your nose tingling by the exquisite scent that radiates from him. You actually never wondered about the way he smells. But now that he is so close you would be able to touch him, so close that you can feel his breath brushing over the bare skin of your face, heat begins to crawl up your spine. Suddenly you feel like fainting, the immense presence of him standing this closely to you simply taking your breath away.

“If you decide on betraying me by telling anyone about my secret, I will execute you. There are no real feelings between us, I won’t even bat an eyelash.”

“First, make sure you keep your end of the bargain, Prince”, you bite back out of instinct, holding his gaze without any mercy.

Does he really think you’re scared of him? He might be Gojo Satoru, the honoured one, the strongest, the prince of this country. You might have been surprised by the way he grabbed you out of thin air. You are still (y/n), still you.

Instead of backing up, you take another step towards him and grab the collar of his elegant jacket. But you know all of his dirty little secrets, parts of his past and future. You are definitely no one to be messed with as well.

“And make sure you don’t disappoint me.”

You let go of him as sudden as you grabbed him, creating a safe distance between both of you by crossing the room and coming to a stand in front of the exit.

“Send me an invitation to the ball along with a pricy bouquet of lavender flowers. It was an honour to visit you, Your Majesty. I am looking forward to our next meeting.”

One last polite curtsy, one last elegant smile. But just when you’re about to call the waiter in order to open the door for you, it swings open by itself.

And your cheek clashes into something particularly hard.

“Oh no, I am beyond sorry My Lady! I wasn’t aware of your presence!”

That voice…You get greeted by a pair of the manliest hands you’ve ever seen, hands gliding up his definitely toned arms. He lifts you off the ground as fast as you stumbled onto his, arms holding you into place tightly.

“You must be Lady (y/n), what a pleasure to finally meet you. I am Sir Geto Suguru, the steward of Your Majesty.”

“S-Suguru?”

Your widen eyes focus on his face in an instant, heart almost beating out of your chest. All those times you admired his drawing, the way he acted so elegantly. The countless fanfictions you’ve read with this exact first meeting.

Only to end up with him in bed later on.

“That is my name”, the man in front of you replies along with a small laughter.

That smile. That oh so charismatic smile. And that manly smell, a mix of mint and leather. You force yourself to gift him with a smile and create a safe distance between both of you. So this is him, the best friend of Gojo Satoru. Even in this world, you can tell how close they are to each other.

Will it stay like this, though?

“I’m sorry, I must have hit my head a little too heart”, you comment, finally ripping your eyes away from his brown ones.

“Do you know each other?”, the firm voice of Prince Satoru interrupts.

A look into his face tells you that he isn’t amused by this sudden meeting at all.

“I’ve never seen Lady (y/n) apart from the portrait that was sent to you, Prince Satoru. But may I say, you look even more mesmerising in person.”

“Weren’t you about to leave when Sir Geto arrived, Lady (y/n)?”

Gojo smiles at you without his eyes, a cold glare decorating his face that is definitely supposed to intimidate you.

But instead of backing up, you take a risky step towards Geto Suguru and bow oh so sweetly.

“Oh Sir Geto, I don’t deserve your kind words. After all, it is you who is a feast for my eyes. No excuse me gentlemen, I still have lessons to attend. I hope we’ll meet each other again this weekend, Sir Geto. Have a nice week, Prince Satoru.”

Without gifting him another single look, you turn on your heel and walk out the door.

You did it. You convinced him to propose to you. But…is this really what you want? Is Gojo Satoru really what you want? Just the way he stared at you with arrogance dripping from each and every poor. Urgh, you fucking hate him. There’s no way to deny that he’s driving you over the edge. Why on earth does it have to be him? Why not Geto, what about Nanami?

Why does it have to be Gojo Satoru?

“She seems like a really nice young lady”, Suguru comments visibly amused while sitting in your former place.

“What your tongue, Suguru. She will me my fiancé after this week is over.”

Tags: @m0k0k0 @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @risuola @fire-loving-siren

@sunshine7queen @gatitam @kentocalls @hellkaiserinphoenix @skylarlyn823

@livmarauder @nothisispatrick300 @haileycannotcometothephonern @xstom @byakuya61085

[pinkandpurple360]

Trying to analyse apology tour just feels like sorting through slop

The opening is bizarre. A silent treatment has blitz crawling back to be listened to, his personality has done a large backflip from the angry pained person he was the day before. To a grinning idiot trying to make his first fan like him again.

He is used in the same way now as he was in the stupid opening song of the previous - for “mean” careless sex jokes, to be contrasted against the overly sensitive weepy, whiny, half self pitying half self aggrandising “woe is me” Prince. Who is just so above that sort of thing because he’s a deep, generous, kind, occasionally naive and silly innocent romantic precious baby boi with sad backstory. Oh brother. Bring out the violins.

This type of bias from the solo author, Medrano, is just embarrassingly obvious. She gives stolas every win, all of his points are framed as right, she only lets the other character argue if he incriminates himself by warped facts, in a way that can contribute to stolas being right. She doesn’t even try and write this as an “argument.” It’s a case of her favourite OC evar educating and schooling the OC she is less fond of right now, with his superior mind and superior super deep beautiful emotions always put in a background of stars and constellations. Feelings that in truth, don’t go beyond “I want you around cause I’m lonely.”

In between making him cry and weep for our pity, she adds in moments of unfounded indignant behaviour, rage that his privilege dare be questioned, moments of malicious torment, and shaming. Copious amounts of shame. All to pleasure her audience with the satisfaction of stolas winning.

He is just enraged that his ‘feelings’ of attachement that define his identity at this point, are not being returned adequately with acts of servitude, praise, flattery, and gratitude. And while this biased scene is bad enough, Verosika has to be inserted to enable stolas and build him up as if Vivziepop isn’t doing it enough herself with this writing. Because as we probably all know, stolas doesn’t have any friends of his own. He only has Blitzøs adversaries to join with, or a loved one who Blitz is arguing with, to back him up because doing that makes blitz pissed off.

Nobody can defend stolas without just projecting their own feelings about something else, onto him. Or regurgitating his frankly irrelevant tragic backstory. Because this writer knows this is a very bare bones argument she’s trying to make. You have to squint terribly hard and erase a lot of events to make the owl look good and most importantly, look right. Because he isn’t. He’s a creep who believes he fell in love with his object and has never stopped treating him as just an object to throw gifts at in exchange for his loyalty.

He speaks in this whimpery, shaky but loud and overpowering voice, commanding the whole situation. But is given tears in his eyes between each breath enough that you don’t question it. It’s very hard to watch.

The party. What ensues is vivziepop having a slightly worrying fixation with torturing blitz and wishing death on him, using countless nameless voiceless characters as props. And all of them exist, of course, to be enablers of stolas and make him look morally good and correct. But they’re also made into such filthy commoners that the dear pretty clean beautiful prince is terrified of their barbaric rituals. Verosika while rich, is still his emotional support poor.

“He is better than him, he is better than all of them, he is better than everyone. He cries, he gives gifts, he sings songs about his lovely love. Stinky blitz only talks about penises and cloaca’s and says fuck. Stol’s is just so silly, he is baby. Poor baby. Speak from your heart baby.He deserves so much. He sings so fantastic. If you don’t think so, kill yourself.”

.

.

Definition of trying too hard. If you’re a writer and one of your OCs takes this much of an emotional hold over you, you need to stop writing and re-evaluate.

[nightcolorz]

woahh okay first time i attempted to send this ask my tumblr glitched and deleted it. idk if it sent but ignore it if so i wanted to reword it anyway. (tw for sa discussions and sexual abuse/trauma)

either way ive been thinking a lot about the post you wrote about armand’s (or amadeo’s) hypersexuality in venice and i saw a very similar post on twitter, essentially saying armand was so confused and horny in venice and ended up going to bianca for solice (then feeling incredibly guilty about it) and then later harlech as he weaponised his sexuality as a form of revenge on marius “ignoring” him (eventually tragically leading to his death)

it just puts such a tragic image into my head of amadeo in bianca’s bedchamber, crying and crying after having sex with her because he doesn’t understand why he feels the way he does, why he desires sex so much after all he’s been through, and not realising it is a trauma response, a last ditch effort to keep himself alive by acclimatising to his environment of sexual abuse, and then it later killing him anyway.

Armand is so Sad. im so sad.

any other thoughts from you?

doooonttt worry lol ur previous ask didn’t send haha (I’m sorry stinky tumblr deleted it tho damn) but I LOVE this ask so thank u sm for resending it!!

omgg this makes me so sad holy shit 😭 I never made the connection that Amadeo’s hyper sexuality reaction to sa trauma led to his death but ugh, omg, ur so right that’s so tragic. It’s also specifically Marius abusing him that leads him to his death, bcus Armand feeling the massive loss of agency and control over his life and sexuality cuz of Marius causes him to get with harlech (someone he knows is dangerous) bcus he wants to make Marius angry and to distance himself from his perceived control by self destructing. Marius starts having Armand go to brothels against his will, Marius resents Armand for doing the thing he told him to and starts “ignoring him”, boom harlech boom death

the Bianca thing is so interesting, especially Armand’s guilt and perceived lack of control of his actions. It’s like, he is realizing that for reasons he can’t understand he isn’t able to control his sexual impulses and he is consumed by them in a way that dictates his behavior, which is scary as shit especially for someone who has been taught to be frightened of sexuality for his entire life. Armand seems to perceive himself being hyper sexual as akin to being like his abusers, where he seems to think that since he can’t control his sexual urges and makes poor decisions bcus of horniness hes akin to a rapist which 😰💔 that type of guilt is rlly common for sa victims who experience complicated reactions to trauma unfortunately. But ugh.

slight change of topic, but I always think about how hard and strange it must’ve been for Amadeo to go from 24/7 sex and sexual urges to sexless being thrown into catholic cult where u can’t bathe urself let alone fuck. Like that’s the kind of whiplash between two harmful extremes that makes someone into a person like Armand, lmao

[kit-williams]

Here, I have a few "hear me out" character options for you. Lets see if any are too unfuckable for you or you at least find it entertaining XD

Here me out level: Very mild Ahzek Ahriman: kind of a douche but also really likes civilian remembrancers. Loves to fuck with warp magic and is also a repeat offender cannibal. yummy

Here me out level: Mild Argel Tal: (The best Word Bearer) Not a bad man pre heresy, and in a vision Lorgar has turns into a demon bug man. kinda hot ngl

Here me out level: medium Asterion Moloc: Chapter master of the Minotars. Kind of like Tyberos but worse also more brutally evil and paranoid. Is fucking massive, scarred and full of cybernetics.

Here me out level: hardish Eidolon: An Emperors children marine, like Fulgrim but even more of a narcissistic asshole. Gets corrupted in the heresy and is so much of a dick Fulgrim himself actually kills him. 8/10 would be his pet pre-heresy because post heresy he is dead 💀

Here me out level: ??? Mothman Mortarion: I would let that massive stinky man have whatever he wanted

Ahzek: 100% would DID NOT KNOW HE WAS A CANNIBAL I just love tragic magic boys who tried his best but like dad everything went wrong.

Argel Tal: 1000% WOULD both as normal and demon bug/abomination thing listen that vertical mouth could do things to me but yeah sometimes you just crave insect man sexual horror

Asterion Moloc: 50% would... I don't know enough about him or the Minotaurs much beyond just utterly ravaging the Lamenters. But Granted I could probably think up some sort of personality for him sexy enough to turn that 50% to 100% just like I've done with Tyberos.

Mothman Mortarion: Would and in my drafts am working on something for him

His mask had been removed for this occasion, bits of his flesh coming off with it, but ever the resilient one Mortarion hardly felt it as Isolde looked up in horror. The chittering insect like mouth mixed with a human one swirled and mashed together as he chittered down at her. His silvery wings fully spread, flicking in the light to catch her eyes as he preened and felt an excitement. Mortarion was intimate with the cycle of death and rebirth that Nurgle governed over and fecundity was a step in that cycle Mortarion walked past. He was content on being a creature that had lost it's life mate and warbled its never returned mating song.

There was an insanity that danced in Mortarions eyes as two smaller arms gripped and pulled on her clothes. They were in his section of the garden... away from the Grandfather's gaze and while it pained Mortarion physically and immaterially he would introduce his wife to Grandfather later... after intimacy was restored and pent up feelings were taken care of. His clothing and armor melted away off of his body...

Eidolon: I don't know much about him cept that he did get killed and might be alive? Unless someone else in lore is also... EITHER WAY

Emperor's children are always a hard sell for me idk how you can be more narcissistic than Fulgrim so yeah I just don't know enough about him to figure out if I even COULD write something about him.

So TL;DR: Everyone is would just Asterion Molec is someone I'd have to probably build up like Tyberos to make him work and Eidolon I don;t know enough about & him being an Emperor's Children makes him have an uphill battle for me to try and sexualize

[exoticalmonde]

The Evealia Guide Through Babel (event) - Part III

Last time we left off, things are going absolutely terrible. There's a Sarkaz that is gone insane with sorrow for his comrades and his son, so he's taken it with himself to go destroy the Leithanien he's noticed lurking around Kazdel.

Leithanien. From Babel.

I'll just let you read this part on your own for cinematic value.

GOOD GOD ALRIGHT

Damn it... Ugh.

He is sent to Theresa, but he's so out of it that he doesn't even realize what is going on. He very happily tells her that he killed the traitorous Leithanien and has avenged his son, along with all the others who died in battle.

He's taken away since Theresis doesn't want Theresa to be the one meting out punishment like that.

It's strange though, because he doesn't use Arts, but the guards were hypnotised. Somebody on the outside is at fault for this. Yet, the Military Commission refuse to investigate, because the victim is just an outsider to the Sarkaz.

Babel is to remove itself from all political activity too and finally make some clear boundaries between what it can and cannot do on Kazdel.

In a different light, we get to see Theresa and Theresis as caretakers for Ascalon.

Theresis gives her knife back and teaches her, briefly, about how she should sharpen it since warriors should treasure their weapons, while also being considering on who it gets to cut.

Theresa is much softer on the approach. Asks her about what she likes in the city.

Despite that, Ascalon feels like she can't really hate the gentle Sarkaz. I SCREAMED when Theresa offered Ascalon to touch her horn. Is it a way to show affection? Vulnerability? Whatever it is, WHY did I not think of this sooner. That's so heckin adorable.

Theresa cleans Ascalon's wound and teaches her that weapons can't heal these - only time and medicine. So one day she can wake up and learn that it doesn't hurt anymore.

That much, Ascalon agrees with.

Babel Classroom, Kazdel

…

Well, nobody showed up to class.

Except Theresis, who is there to confirm that the casualty report from the Military Commission states a lot of children have gone. Those who survived - their parents refuse to let the outsiders of Babel teach them. Plus, many of the Babel teachers left - out of fear.

Even if Theresis thinks Theresa is wasting her time, he waits with her upon her request.

IT WASN'T FOR NOTHING!!

Down, Dog.

ARRRGHBFEUSUGIH MY HEART.

I hated him, okay? I hated Manfred in the way you'd hate a handsome scrimblo, in the way where I'd be ashamed to say that I like him; like how people who love stinky cheese don't want others to know, they just sit in the corner eating it and hope that nobody is going to notice the smell.

I liked him for his perseverance before and because he was so very 'aware' unlike other leaders we've seen in the past. Meanwhile, I'm being set up with this charming little creature that just wants change for the better, wants peace, and wants to help.

HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME ADMIT I LIKE HIM?!

Now I suddenly wish he does not die. Now I get upset when I remember I derogatively called him Milfred out of rage. I never managed to pass CC 9 or 10, I forgot which one was Ashring, but now??? I'm mean to NOT be upset???

I hate it here.

Within Kazdel, Goodluck and his son are… either waiting for the worst to happen or they're morning the loss of their third family member. Goodluck can't really stand sitting around, doing nothing, so he is planning to become a mercenary and make the people who hurt his wife pay.

Before departing he gives her name to his son - Odda. And promises to teach him how to fight with her weapon once he returns.

---

BB-3 Before

Silent Crack

[Today, though, we face the tragic reality of disunity and betrayal.]

Eight Years Ago...

Summer, 1086

Classes are being held in Kazdel, secretly. Kids have to keep their voices down and they're not allowed to tell anybody about what is happening inside their secret little base of operation.

The war between Kazdel and Leithanien never stopped, so for 18 years they've been pursued. A lof of people feel into despair, either from the ghost of war or the infection.

Within the Scar Market, Goodluck picks up a commission - some teacher in Kazdel has been saying too good a thing about Babel. Somebody is willing to pay to shut them up.

We learn that it's been a while since Goodluck was in this part of Kazdel. Although Goodluck doesn't remember a lot of things, he remembers the look of his front door - the address where that supposed 'teacher' might be hiding.

Inside, said Teacher is really doing good. He's teaching the children that the Sarkaz blame Babel for their misfortune since they have nobody else. Babel brought the enemies, Babel's medicine makes Oripathy worse, Babel this and that-- and children nod along, because they probably hear that from their parents a lot.

It's not quite so, though; they can't take things at face value. That's why they have to see, learn and think for themselves.

Odda notices somebody at the door. Everybody scrambles to hide before he opens it and sees...

Surprisingly, it's Ascalon.

She scans the sparsely furnished room and understands.

...

She says 'Thank you for sheltering him. But you must leave'.

It's clearly a warning for oncoming danger. The teacher has to go. Odda stays by the door - a habit of his since he was little. As if he was waiting for someone familiar to come back home.

From the shadows, Goodluck recognises him immediately. He's unfortunately already bound with his own mission and knows there's only one way to ensure his child gets a better life.

Ascalon makes the decision for him. Her mist shrouds the corpse, erasing all traces of its existence.

[The passing of a life in Kazdel is akin to a speck of dust falling to the ground, unheard, unceremonious, and unnoticed.]

[His luck ran out.]

Manfred seems to also have been in the area at the time of this occurrence. They fight a little, both at friendly terms, though they serve different sides of Kazdel.

It drives up a memory of another time they were sparring.

THEY EVEN LAUGH TOGEHTER, because Theresa helps Manfred down by levitating him to safety.

Though adorable, we're back in the present with Ascalon and Manfred fighting. There's a misunderstanding between their approaches I think. Manfred has remained by Theresis' side because he thinks there can be a different approach to the future they're looking for. Since the start Theresis has been hesitant with Theresa's plan, so now they have parted ways.

On the other side, Ascalon has turned her back on Theresis out of anger that he'd allow the others in Kazdel to badmouth Her Highness and her choice to stick with Babel.

Manfred is more understanding than ever though. It's not really the twin sovereigns who had to make the decision of parting. It's just circumstance. Perhaps the prophecy.

They're so caring for each other though... These four care about each other so much I want to put them in a box and keep them together forever.

Sadness isn't over by the way~

Because Manfred appears on Odda's door with his dad's... remnants. Odda doesn't really remember him, but Manfred doesn't make much of it as he presents the items and explains:

[There have been some disturbances in the city, and I'm afraid your father... I'm so sorry.]

[Wh-Where did you find them? Was there...?]

[There was nothing else left at the scene. I'm sorry.]

[...]

[What's your name?]

[...Odda.]

[If you need any help...]

[No... no, I'm very grateful that you brought these back. It's been a long time since I last saw him... this is enough. I don't have to wait anymore... He's not coming back...]

[Do you have family? Or friends you can count on?]

[I can take care of myself. Besides, we see things like this every day in this city, no?]

[...]

[I-I'm sorry I gushed, sir. I just feel like I know you, somehow... I'm sure you're busy. I won't keep you any longer.]

[My condolences.]

THIS IS NOT FUNNY

WHAT THE HECK ITS NOT FUNNY, YOU'RE NOT ORIGINAL?!?!?!?!?

I've never cried so hard in my life, oh no I'm broken.

---

BB-3 After

There's been an accident - feelings are mixed.

A father beat his child for trying to defend the Teacher, and the Teacher fought back with the father to defend the kid. In the end, both of them were going to die from their injuries. He was set upon by the angry crowd and it escalated from there. The turmoil dragged in everybody - Civilians, Babel, mercenaries, even the Military Commission.

Somebody blew up the Babel office building, so then Royal Court troops were involved.

Theresa has made the decision to remove Babel from Kazdel. It's become way too dangerous for any of the personnel to stay any longer, since they're now completely unwanted. Odda immediately signs up to leave with them.

Out on the streets, the dying teacher is mocked by the Sarkaz soldiers, but he's actually seeing an invisible to others little banshee - Logos. He was there in the classroom and learned a lot from the Teacher.

Even if others did not believe it so, the Sarkaz Teacher is welcomed by the myriad of souls and he's guided to them with the little banshee's song.

[It is an elegy that commemorates the passing of an ordinary Sakraz.]

['You were talking about the future of Babel in the lesson, but you didn't get to the end. What were you going to say?']

['I believe... that Babel will die someday. I hope I'm wrong.']

In the court, Laqeramaline is saying goodbye to Theresa. It's a sweet conversation they have, with the Banshee Queen being as truthful to her beliefs as she is supportive to Theresa. She also knows there is no other way, so all she can do from the position of a mother is hope for the best.

[j2zara]

oooo what are aelwyn's feelings on the rest of the clones?? im picturing her finding j2 incredibly tragic & j3 a bit of a bimbo but idk

OK if we're doing this i think i'm just gonna have it be we're buying into a universe where Aelwyn would find out about the clones and not just think they're all jace. To be fair I do have other characters who in my heart absolutely know about the clones and can distinguish all of them or at least some of them (Zara can tell the difference, Eugenia can tell the difference, Lucilla can sometimes tell the difference if i'm feeling shippy).

I do think she would think J4 his honestly kinda girlfail if she got to know her for real for real and a part of the reason aelwyn has a crush on her is that she's this weird object of mystery but also she's like a goth femdom who once said she liked Aelwyn's haircut in a way that was like SO offhand and in passing that aelwyn had to be lay down like I think i hauve covid. She can make excuses for J4 that she can't make for jace tho. She's like oh j4 thinks wizards are stinky? Well. Pobody's nerfect

There's a llne in Ballad of Songbirds that describes Tigris as. Like. I think it was "having a soft nature that invited abuse" (yuck! Snow pov! Evil!) and i think that's a little bit how Aelwyn sees J2. But like. That's how a lot of people see j2. Like at least jace can kinda keep up with her on a back and forth barb level and not that J2 can't but usually he won't. And I do think she sees a lot of her relationship to her own parents in the picture of what is going on with J2's Deal so she's a little pricklier with him that she ought to be as deflection b/c. I'm in this picture and i don't fucking like it. They're the first, they're the ones that have to be perfect.

If she knew him she would maybe affectionately tease him but in that way that she teases literally everyone else in her life in that she has no idea what is the level of acceptable so she's like way too mean with it and hurts his feelings. His nail polish always chipped and he wears cardigans with snags in them and slides with socks no matter the occasion. What! We're playing! You know that's not right!

J3 i could see as her thinking he is. Incredibly fun and funny but also incredibly cunty in a way that she either gels with or completely bounces off. The thing is that. Aelwyn does think of J3 as a bimbo esp at first but just like. How Aelwyn knows that Adaine is incredibly talented and never underestimated her. The thing is that J3 is kinda flighty and understimulated and noncommittal but I also think he would do well if he was given any reason to rise to some sort of occasion. He does want to prove himself, but he also is living a cursed half life and has made it his mission to suck as much dick as possible so you're expecting him to use his spare time to do what, read??? In my mind J3 is probably the funniest clone and his flirtationship with Porter was actually almost... intellectual? Before they started hooking up. The problem with J3 is that he is incredibly like "i'm so sorry I just don't get this math problem i'm so stupid can you help me? wow you're sooooo smart maybe you could tutor me in a private lesson" coded while privately seething that like half of the problems are wrong. You know him. He's Cool Girl.

Anyway. I got off track. Aelwyn. I do think she finds him amusing but ultimately kinda tiresome. But he could be kinda fun. He's more tiresome than jace in large doses but she might like him more than jaceprime anyway. But at least he can keep up with her unlike poor J2 who is very "if we're just nice to the weird mean girl who is mean to us then maybe she will be nice to us". And initially she's like oh this guy is incredibly stupid he is not a threat but is like hm. I will not make that mistake again. I also think she sees a bit of Adaine's deal wit him as the one that is neglected one to her golden child but you didn't hear it from me. Which means she ALSO would probably mock him for essentially being the brutish "team muscle" even tho he's also a spindly little sorcerer.

He also thinks her story about hitting on jawbone is extremely funny but he will deny thus it’s bc he finds it relatable. The one where he’s like “we all hurt from time to time” and she says “I’m moving”

[rmelster]

The Tudors “Margaret” Tudor and purposeless character assassination: A rant.

(This is today’s rant subject, “Margaret” Tudor. Of course, no hate to Gabrielle Anwar, the actress that portrayed her; she has far better roles than this… Bitter princess)

“ICONIC” MARGARET?

(Some) People find it brutally empowering to see this refined lady murder her husband. And certainly, they first present her a very undesirable situation where we cannot do nothing but to be biased in her favour: We have a handsome gentleman of noble birth named Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk (played by the equally handsome Henry Cavill), who she has the hots for, and then, this dying, stinky pervert (Manuel I, King of Portugal) that we don’t know exactly why had she married (specially since, both historically and in the show, he had already a vast, healthy progeny). She has to bear with this torture until she says “no more of this” and decides to smother the king and hastily marry the Duke of Suffolk, her true love.

Well, this is when we get three big things wrong:

Firstly, murder remains an inexcusable crime in most of the cases. Imagine a young man killing his elderly wife in that same way. “But men have more authority and bodily autonomy!” It’s. Still. Murder. Henry VIII killed his wives (and many other innocent women both related and unrelated to him) to get with the woman/en he wanted, and we loathe him for that; but in this show, Margaret kills her husband to go back to Suffolk’s torrid embrace, (some( people find it iconic, girlboss, empowering.

Secondly, The Tudors is guilty of the punishable mistake of disguising lust as “passionate love”. We see it in Henry VIII / Anne Boleyn, and we see it in Margaret / Suffolk too. We soon learn that Margaret and the Duke have little to nothing in common, and that they spent most of their times fighting or separate (time that he idly spends in getting under the farthingales of ladies and trying to woo more women above his possibilities, just like the married and very fictional queen Claude of France). Just because he says “I’m sorry” before her grave that doesn’t make this a tragic love story.

Thirdly, she is no empowered character that we should take example of. Even after “freeing” herself from the King of Portugal, she spends most of her time bemoaning her life and the marriage she killed for. And that scene of her disapproving her brother’s “unnatural” divorce by saying: “Oh, I won’t step into a court where a whore rules”. Miss, you literally bedded Suffolk before marrying the King of Portugal, then mercilessly killed your husband, then brought Suffolk back to warm your black widow’s bed and smugly told your brother. Your actions are as bad as Henry’s.

FANCY PRINCESSES DON’T WEAR THAT

As it happens whenever I encounter some The Tudors costume, I felt the dread of seeing clothes that neither of them would have ever worn. Margaret’s dress could have been very cool, but certainly, it had something that I didn’t enjoy. Her hairstyle, as pretty as it is, wouldn’t have been possible nor fashionable in those times, since she would have worn a proper headdress.

(This is a latter impression of Gossaert’s Wedding Portrait of the Dukes of Suffolk, which portrays the real Margaret, whose name was actually Mary, and the real Charles Brandon)

As you can see, the show counterpart misses a proper headdress, jewellery and the French gown that we are so used to see in Mary. She also seemed to borrow a crown from her sworn enemy Anne Boleyn apparently (in the show). I read in the WiKi that Margaret is a rebellious soul that wears unfashionable clothes, which highly contradicts the fashionable Mary Tudor, who brought the French fashions to court. Her clothes in the masque (everyone’s, actually) are highly historically inaccurate, and it is giving cheap copy of Fifty Shades Darker.

WILL THE REAL QUEEN PLEASE STAND UP? Manuel I of Portugal indeed remarried with a young princess, but this wasn’t any Tudor princess, but an Hapsburg one: Her name was Eleanor of Austria, and would become a widow three years of marriage and two children together after. Who Mary Tudor actually married was the King of France, Louis XII, who lacked male heirs (he only had two surviving daughter, the future Queen Claude, and Renee of France) who was fifty two when she was eighteen. And, despite making her brother swear to allow her to remarry in case she widowed (which is far more reasonable than what she did in the show), she was actually pretty kind to her sick, elderly husband, and he was very pleased with her too. Within months of marriage, he sent a letter to King Henry VIII calling him “brother” and expressing his upmost pleasure to be married to her. Mary may have been aware since her childhood, seeing her older siblings marry strategically into the Royal House of Scotland and Castile - Aragon, that she would suffer the same fate, and that she would have to be strong and a worthy sovereign to whatever kingdom she would be bound to reign; though I wouldn’t be so bold to say that she eventually loved him, Mary didn’t openly show her disgust to the king and treated him nicely. He suffered a long and painful agony due to his gout and died barely three months after marrying Mary. She spent some cautionary time in France, in case it was proven that she was with child, and then left.

Princess Mary Tudor, firstly Queen of France and later Duchess of Suffolk, was a pretty interesting character that was slain by the poor writing of the show runners, whose main focus revolves around her (quite unhealthy) sexuality and her good looks; then, after having her becoming a “burden” to Suffolk, they hastily had her killed and, after giving him some cheap ass redemption by looking mildly sad in her funeral (when he was literally bedding another woman as she agonised)m the next chapter comes and he already had set his eyes on his ward (which is nearly an adopted child, but with personal interests). Ironically, the true Charles Brandon had originally betrothed Catherine Willoughby to his son, then married her roughly two months after Mary’s demise; she was fourteen, and he fourty nine, making him thirty five years her senior, which in the show they dismiss quickly. Their age gap was one year bigger than that of the true Mary and Louis XII, but, quite the contrary of the first one, they never dare to make it undesirable in the show. Hypocrisy, I think.

[llynwen]

hey I saw your tags abt reading the MM book too and I desperately need to hear abt it from more ppl that also shoved it up their ass. Thoughts?

oh brother you have no idea just how many thoughts i have about it.

i really didn't wanna read the book because i knew it was going to make me go insane, but then a friend of mine who i'm trying to force to watch the show (i beg of you martyna. it's so good) decided to get it for me for my birthday.

from the very first few fucking pages i was Perplexed, to put it lightly. i was expecting a light and breezy autobiography with some silly childhood anecdotes and maybe behind the scenes tea about the hollywood crowd. Instead i was served almost 300 pages of trauma dumping, philosophical ruminations and some very TMI info that i wish i never read. i rated this book 5/5 on goodreads btw.

the first thing that really knocked me on my ass was this (i'm ignoring the ketchup story i DON'T want to think about that)

this should've given me an idea about that kind of book this was gonna be. yet i continued on, blindly, thinking, okay maybe he just wanted to get that out there. more power to him. whatever. (not really).

then the motherfuckers starts explaining his little philosophy, the titular green lights, right? and i'm like, yeah. i agree. you're correct. but why did it take you 50 years to figure this out? i'm 24 and i've been living by this very logic for years. Anyways. i continue reading.

now, bro spends half the book trying to convince us his parents were NOT abusive. i disagree. i think he has stockholm syndrome. i hope he's in therapy. i don't wanna think about this either.

now, this is where i started catching on that he was lying to me. i know it took me an embarrassingly long time, but i was giving him the benefit of the doubt. the undead parrot and the 13 story tree house, however, was what made me go Wait A Damn Minute.

yeah, turns out this book isn't a memoir, it's a mix between a magical realism novel, a self help handbook and a philosophical treaty. served to you on really nice paper (i mean Really nice. i appreciate that) with important words in bold, italics or even sometimes in green (which i appreciate even more, since i am tragically dyslexic).

after establishing that all men do is, in fact, lie, i gained a different outlook on the whole thing (i swear i need to read it again, this time in full englit major mode, make some notes and dissect this thing like it's shakespeare).

i like how candid he is about kind of getting lucky with the whole famous thing. he really took that slutty slutty waist and peculiar bone structure of his and said I'm Gonna Make A Career Out Of This. good for him.

he is, however, just a man, and at the end of the day, you can really tell he sees the world through his privilege. the white straight cis christian rich and famous thing kinda sways him into obnoxious territory in some parts, and it had me seething with rage. like, i too would love to go hike through south america because it came to me in a dream. i'd looooove to go visit my favorite unknown artist in a country on the other side of the world. i was half hoping to read about a piranha biting his shlong off when he went skinny dipping in the motherfucking amazon. (un)fortunately, no dice.

the david and goliath story made me chuckle out loud. he makes it Just believable enough to make you think about it. i like being made to think.

the philosophics continue in the form of the single most cursed wall of chicken scratches i ever did see. i sat there, straining my eyes, trying to decipher this shit, and i'm pretty sure he was on something when he wrote it because all of this

could be summed up with "you've gotta leave your comfort zone to learn more about yourself and the world." suck my cock dude.

i Really like how he talks about his wife. but then again, when you look at her, there really isn't any other way of talking about her.

i mean. how the Fuck did his stinky ass pull this goddess. lucky bastard.

now, the 3ish pages where he talks about filming the show (which was the whole reason i even started reading) are criminally underwhelming. i was hoping for a sneak peak into that elusive 450 page manuscript (i will Steal your laptop matthew. watch out), but instead i got a one liner of him being like i wanna play rusty because he's the specialest little girl in the whole entire world and the producers going yeah fine. THAT'S IT. still mad about this, especially because after that he hits you with the love letter to new orleans. i mean be serious. he should Not be allowed to write shit like that.

to summarize, i think he might be a genius, or he might be insane. he is probably both. i want to shove this book up his ass for many reasons, for example him making me learn the names of his kids (i hate knowing things about celebrity kids. leave them out of this) or for making me agree with him. because i do. agree. I don't appreciate his continued efforts to convert me to christianity and i think he's disgustingly obnoxious in some places, but the truth is he has a real cool outlook on a lot of things and i'm very mad that i now respect this bastard for more than his acting skills. i would like to buy him a six pack and listen to him talk about it. i'd love to argue with him, too. i can recommend this book to everybody who feels like they need to experience some psychic damage and maybe an existentialist crisis alongside it. on Very Nice Paper.

[articphrog]

About me:

Name: Phrog

Gender: he/they (just no female pronouns please call me whatever u want) I am the trans

Sexuality/ attractions: Queer Alterous, Demisexual, T4T still figuring things out tho, this is all I got: note I am afraid of cis-women. But autism and strong jawlines get me everytime.

Mental stuff: I have the autism, cyclothymia, I have trouble reading sometimes(offical) and maybe ADHD/add these are not the dignosis

My moods can be very fluctuated and can easily effected my anxietys in life/ urges for safety.

I spell shit wrong all the time, or I just keyboard mash, do not try to spell/grammar check me don’t be a stinki unless I ask for otherwise.

I have a lot of issues lmao

Sideblogs: @phrooogiearts

Special intreats: way to many Ill note some of the big ones maybe I will make a master list:

Horrors:

Magnus archives

Malevolent

Red Valley

Camp here and there

Rpg horror

Analog horror

Missing persons cases

Args

Some obsure youtubers

Yaoi/gay cannibals I cannot explain

Gay shit (related to the horrors):

Dudgeon Meshi (I read all the manga

Madoka Magica

Genshin (Hiatus I hate what they have done)

Honaki star railed (Sunday my kin my lover)

Reverse 1999 (tragic Yuri)

Arknights (Im trying more tragic yuri)

The Alien Stage (bisexual tragedy + blonde fucker)

Indie comics, I dont know how many but most of the gay ones

Danmai: tgaf, ssvss, Stars of Chaos, 2ha

Cursed ships

Strange aeons fan/ but also muppet joker fan (you know where this is going)

Musicals (my fav is The great comet of 1812)

I like furries

Arcane (no spoilers from season 2 please dont show me yaoi I will kill you)

Thats all I can remember lmao

Occupation: Illustratior, being a menace, I also sew, and crochet oocasionally.

Tumblr timeline: I started very late, did not own tumblr back in the day so my media literacy is kinda bad. Like how do you add links and stuff anyways. They say I was always a tumblr kid but I spent most of middle-school on piccollege how unfortunate.

Current projects: I am trying to make a comic with my cool ocs. But I have trouble with writing and stuff. Trying to get better at writing in general.

And guess what I am making a comic its happening!!! Woooo

I made some muppet joker art, but also I switch Interests a lot no idea whats going on with him. i will post my art if I feel like it otherwise we will go full maniac mode.

Ig this will be my blog about the most random shit ever.

-phrog

[zzoupz]

oc questions !!! feel free to answer all or none :))

1. tell me about your favorite! (/pos)

2. tell me about your least favorite! (/pos) (stinky awful garbage man *gender neutral)

3. anything living in your head rent free? story concept, single scene without context, oc concept you wont get around to making?

4. tell me about your favorite relationship (friendship included!) between ocs!

5. do you have a favorite oc name? what is it and how'd you get it?

6. anything driving you truly batshit? going insane over them?

7. tell me something sad about an oc!

8. tell me something sweet about an oc!

9. any ""retired"" ocs you still think about?

10. pick a favorite character n tell me three songs you think theyd like!

hihi! sorry this is a bit late I want to get back on my pc for this

1. oh damn I have multiple favorites! I think ones that I enjoy the most (at the moment) are them

(yellow: Lee Harrison | blue: Bryan Dickinson)

they are basically a (in the 2000s) newbie punk band formed by two friends who are like brothers to each other. they bonded over both having not so great families (not like tragic-backstory awful but yknow. the average traditional family)

yeah I still can't figure out what their band name would be. yeah since 2020. sorry. such is life.

while they're not the ones I've wrote the most about, as in not much at all, I just really like them :)

2. Bartholomew. I used to like him then I realize how generic he is so I hate him now (/j) (yeah I actually do want to post about him less though)

3. been thinking about the dynamic normal human x immortal who finds them in every life. so simple and common but I go insane over it every time. I think it would be fun

4. ohohohoho man ok here are some in no particular orders

Time & Denial core, Denial/Dan (black hair, also the last image) is by @/ akamavarii

they were basically our coresonas, but they've became their own characters at this point so I think it counts

friends who commits OSHA violations together!!!

they share 1 brain cell and takes turns over it like an Xbox (quote from ami himself)

Iandithas & Lumeous (if you noticed one of the name changed its bc I did)

a bard & a wizard duo who are retired and are now a shopkeeper & a chemist

its funny I care about them this much bc Lumeous was supposed to be a dad and a side character to my other oc and Iandithas was a doodle of a random guy and now they mean the world to me

there have been like 5 people who pointed out that they look like a couple and you're right and I fucking hate that you're right. and they were roommates etc

Overseer / Conqueror

this one is new very obviously but I've been thinking about them for a LONG while.

friends to lovers to enemies heehoo heehoo heehoo heehoo heeh

can you tell I like it when queer relationships

5. Fakzky HAS to have my favorite origin. fun fact there's a bot on facebook that would combine the names of their followers (only if they request, don't worry) and it was my source of inspo for my fantroll names in 2020, Fakz is the only one I took completely from it and the post is still there!

6. the 35 awesome and cool animatics that exists in MY mind

7. oh man I don't wanna say something sad :( mostly bc I'm bad at it and it would sound cringe :(

8. I have a plague doc oc and she has 3 pet rats ^_^ they're all named after murderers from the bible but yeah whatever

(Dias Cain Jael in that order btw)

9. hmmm them I think. I make stuff about them way less nowadays but still draw them time to time. Cath is from 2018 and funnily is originally a fusion of two characters. and Danya is from early 2021 when I was just trying stuff out. I made them friends just cuz I think they look like they would do drugs together

10. I have no idea man I created them not know them (I am so so bad at this)

[regularponyfan]

Thoughts on The Bad Guys: A Very Bad Holiday Part 1

I finally got around to watching this for the first time on Christmas Day, and since then have rewatched it twice. It’s long overdue, but after my third viewing, here are my extensive thoughts on my favorite criminal gang’s newest misadventure:

(Also, stick around til the end where I go through my predictions for the special and see how many things I got right.)

Wait…hold the phone… “A Netflix SERIES”? Holy crap, did they just confirm a “Bad Guys Animated Series” for Netflix?! 🤩🤩🤩

Ok, I know this is just the opening credits and I shouldn’t take it too seriously, but how is Webs able to support the other guys’ weights without collapsing?

Also, she’s a tarantula. She shouldn’t be able to create string (Normally this wouldn’t bother me, except she explicitly states tarantulas can’t make webs in a deleted scene for the movie. Kinda makes her nickname ironic, huh?)

OMG GUYS, I think this is going to become its own series! They even put the title and credits at the bottom of the first scene as if it’s just a regular episode!

Ok, let’s go ahead and get the obvious out of the way: the animation is godawful. I understand they’re on a budget, but c’mon, was it that hard to give us some inbetweens here and there? And don’t get me started on those uncanny facial expressions. (I’ll give more specific examples on how terrible this thing is animated later on.)

The special starts with Wolf directly telling the audience that the story takes place before the Bad Guys turned good…like, he actually looks at the camera and tells us this while he’s driving in the first scene…I know one of Wolf’s abilities is breaking the fourth wall, but as far as I can tell, he can’t predict the future. Why didn’t they just do a voiceover?

Speaking of voices, I’m probably the only one who doesn’t have a problem with the new voice actors (the only one I don’t like is Tarantula’s. IDK, she just sounds off to me. Also, my reaction when I learned Snake’s voice actor played Mickey Mouse: 🤯)

They really should’ve put Shark in the seat behind Wolf instead of Piranha. The little dude is barely visible. XD

Speaking of which, what happened to their car? It looks nothing like the one they use in the movie. Do they have multiple cars or something? I mean, I guess that shouldn’t surprise me because of everything else they “own.”

And while we’re on the topic of “things looking different,” why is Wolf the only one who didn’t receive a new holiday getup?

The Bad Guys (or Webs specifically) now use the term “normies” to describe the citizens of L.A. Ok then…

Of course Piranha likes stinky cheeses 😂. My question is, why’d he try to lie about it? And more importantly, why did he not fart when he did? (They actually bring this up in the special’s novelization.)

It’s a shame we don’t get to see Diane or the chief, but at least my girl Tiffany is back 😁! Now please don’t ever have her do that ridiculous arm-waving motion again. (BTW, Lyoko Comic Dubs, if you’re reading this and need me to do more lines, hit me up 😉).

“IT’S THE BAD GUYS!!!” Um…yeah, lady. They’ve been driving around the city this whole time and weren’t trying to hide it. How are you the first one to notice them?

This special marks the first time movie-verse Snake addresses Wolf as “Wolfie.” It probably shouldn’t be a big deal to me since Webs calls him that all the time, buuuuuuut…🥰🥰🥰🥰

“That’s very not good.” Who said that? It couldn’t have been Wolf ‘cause his lips weren’t moving! 😂

Speaking of animation errors, Snake manages to teleport from the passenger seat to the back in just one shot.

“This isn’t that famous balloon everybody’s freakishly emotionally attached to, is it?” “No, no, no. This is a different giant Santa-shaped balloon.” …I adore this cynical reptile so much. 🥰

And now the Santa balloon is on fire…sure, why not?

Wow, Santa burning up is so tragic, we can even hear Lola Loud crying all the way from Michigan!

And now we get the special’s official title screen. So…what was the point of dropping its name in the beginning then?

What do you know? It turns out that wasn’t Lola Loud crying, but the same woman who warned the citizens about the Bad Guys…even though she never sounded like that before. Gal does great impressions, I gotta say!

“He was like a father to me.” What is it with “The Bad Guys” and daddy issues? XD

They canceled Christmas…because of a balloon…can’t they just…I don’t know, buy another one?

Furthermore, why do the Bad Guys feel the need to cancel their heist because of some guards? They seemed perfectly capable of bypassing security at the Golden Dolphin award ceremony. Was it against their moral standards at this point? Did they just randomly decide one day: “Eh, you know what? We’re criminals, we can do whatever we want to guards. Screw our morality.”

Piranha goes from fake sleeping on a pillow…to Shark’s arm. Animation error aside, that’s actually kind of adorable.

Good lord, that “jumping animation.” 😩 What is this, the Looney Tunes?

It’s sad that the Bad Guys’ attempt at recreating the Santa balloon is more pleasant to look at than some of the close-up shots in this special (We’ll get to those soon, trust me.)

They made a Die Hard reference…in a children’s cartoon…That. Is. Awesome! 🤩

“That guy’s a legend! He parties with ghosts and wears a dress to bed!” Methinks Piranha may be suppressing some hidden desires. 😆

In all seriousness, I would love to see the Bad Guys’ rendition of “A Christmas Carol.” But, sorry Shark ol’ buddy; as great of an actor you are, no one fits the role of Scrooge better than a certain grouchy serpent. 😊

“That sounds a lot like Robin Hood, who is notoriously good.” Spoken like a true Sir Hiss, Snakey my boy 👍. (You know what, screw the last point. I wanna see the “Bad Guys” version of Robin Hood now.)

“He ruined tights for me.” Oh, is that the reason Webs doesn’t wear pants? 😆

Maybe I’m just out of touch with reality, but why does the stereo have two slots for MP3s?

The Bad Guys explicitly state they find most Christmas things to be awful…yet Webs has a holiday playlist? 🤔

“Piranha will help Webs get to the antenna.” Why? Can’t she crawl her way up? Why does Piranha need to be there? Did they just need to give him something to do? Because if that’s the case, can’t he help Wolf and Snake deliver presents? Unless…Wolf wants some one-on-one time with his “best bud.” 🥰🥰🤫🤫

“Buddy, I don’t work with sidekicks.” Scrooge? A sidekick? This lady’s obviously never read the book. Or watched DuckTales.

Did anyone else see Snake’s face before he delivered the first present? It’s almost as if he was saying: “Only for you, Wolfie. Only for you.” 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

“What? You’ve never seen an ab before?” Why Snake, are you showing off for Wolf right now? 😉

It’s honestly adorable that these two know each other so well, they automatically guess when the other is hiding something.

Wait a minute…I’m confused. Normally, Shark’s paper-thin disguises always work no matter how minimal they are. But the second he loses just one piece of the disguise, it doesn’t work anymore? What? (In case you’re wondering, his hat falls off and even though he still has the mutton chops, he’s nearly recognized. Then later on, all he has on is a mustache and that’s enough to fool the shaved ice vendor. Again, what? 🤨)

Yes, Shark. Go ahead and keep talking into your earpiece OUT LOUD while the radio lady is beating you up. That won’t make her suspicious at all. *sigh*

I love Webs’ face after Piranha’s song.

Shark and Piranha refer to each other as “fin bros.” Not gonna lie, that’s really cute 😊.

Good thinking, Wolf. Making it snow when 3/5 of your team is cold-blooded. I can’t see this ending badly at all. 🙄

Ok, as stupid as it is, I love the interaction between Shark and the shaved ice vendor. It’s probably the funniest part of the whole thing.

Of course Wolf doesn’t listen to Webs and turns the machine up to 11 (oops, I mean 10). Again, does he not realize how fatal this could be for the others?

[moonrisecalamityretreat]

My Only Shining Star | The Shepherd | Trial 6.3 | Re: Yuriko, Maxime, Oji-san

Jinpachi supposes the first place he can turn his attention is towards Yuriko since they were so adamant to start it off...She was always so strong wasn't she? Jinpachi liked that, that's why he had to punish them and Mio for that confidence...

"Uuuuuuu that's sooooo mean Yuwiko-chaan!! We made the pwettiest cwowns too!! And you can't even honor that!? Waaah!! So mean!! You're so stinky and mean!!"

He crosses his arms with a pout after stomping on the floor like a kid throwing a tantrum.

"Waaah, you think I'm wrong!? Uuuuuu, you just keep saying mean things wike that! Uuu...it's wike only possible for sooooo long! I may have given the mawwet but I didn't make anyone do anything! That was aww of you siwwy biwwies that did it! If you didn't want to pway then you shouldn't have pwayed! Dummies!!"

He sticks his tongue out like a silly goose as he pats his head in all good fun. Everything was a joke to the way he was now. Lives weren't lives, they were toys...they were all Jinpachi's toys. And...he was getting bored of these toys that he loves so much. Running around in circles, he gives a more serious gaze to Yuriko.

"No, it is freedom. It's tragic that you can't understand. It's tragic that you can't understand that I haven't lost everything yet. I still have you all, don't I?"

A cackle falls from his lips. He still had them...he still had all of them to play with until this trial came to a close. Even without Juzo he still had the remaining people from Happy Smiles to keep the fun going. To keep his despair revving up.

It was a twisted feeling, this love that he felt for them all. It truly was love that he felt...It was just perverted by the way he treats those he loves. Despair was his euphoria...so why wouldn't he want to share this with those that he loves?

A strange existence...turns his attention to Maxime.

Enough? Enough he says? Jinpachi tilts his head to the side with curiosity on whatever grand knowledge that Jinpachi was sure be given from Maxime.

"You say that you escaped and yet you held yourself back? You had to have a hold on your blessing? Is that really escaping?"

He tilts his head the other way, letting his hair drape down to the other side as he listens intently to each and every syllable of Maxime's words.

"Hmmm, I guess we really were weren't we? If only Tsu-chan and Miki-chan weren't such failures then it would've been more. Sucks."

He shrugs his shoulders as he lets more tears start to fall from his eyes...these were dramatic tears...not like what he was shedding earlier...he turns these glossy eyes towards Maxime. To let other people help...to let them in and be the cure. Love...

"Uguuu...Maxime-san...Waaaaaaaaahhh!!!"

A childish and dramatic wail escapes Jinpachi.

"T-That's like totally t-t-the sweetest thing I-I ever heeeaaaaard!!! Waaaaaah!!! T-That's like s-so so so despair inducing!! T-That y-y-you could have this!! It m-m-m-makes me like soooo happy for you!! Waaaaaaaaahhh!! Juzo-niichan c-could've helped waaaah!! What have I done!? Waaaaaaaahhh!!"

Once again, disgracing the memory with indulgent tears that were nothing but an insult. He never felt like he could be cured...and that made him despair even more. He knew that Juzo wanted to cure him and that made him despair. Every single thing...every little thing...no matter what...Jinpachi derived complete and utter despair from it. To see that someone else was able to find treatment...through others that cared...through others that wanted to love them despite everything he did...

It fills Jinpachi with such an agonizingly painful elation!

His tears fade. He runs his fingers through his hair with a smirk at Maxime.

"Looking forward to it? I think that's a very simple way to put what I'm feeling about the situation..."

Death...death...death...That was the core of this game...it was how it had to end. No matter where they went...no matter what hope they tried to grasp...it all ended in death. Death, death, and more death.

Death started this game and death was going to end it.

Death was the only certainty in life...and it was...something that Jinpachi was looking forward too ever since the moment he felt the pull of despair in his brain ten years ago. Everything...to that moment.

"I can't wait for it! To die...what greater despair could come than from that!? Losing everything I've spent years building! Losing everything that I've done all in one singular moment! The everlasting pain that death brings! The despair of the unknown that follows death! What is there not to be excited about!? Huuuuuh!?"

Death was despair...and not just any...

Death was a once in a lifetime despair...so Jinpachi couldn't wait to know it...He laughs but stops with his gaze irritatingly moving over to Hanji...

Hanji...the one that understood him the best...that understood Juzo the best. Hanji...Hanji...Hanji...Jinpachi grits his teeth at their words. Always such a pest...Not a dog but a bug that needed squashed...

"What Juzo-niichan wants? Juzo-chan didn't understand what he wanted. He had to understand that."

Juzo had known exactly what he wanted.

Jinpachi knew exactly what he wanted also.

They both wanted nothing more than to be together with each other forever.

"Teehee! Of course I'd rather die than lose the most precious part of me, oji-san~ Juzo-niichan was just confused! You think you understood him but still none of you understand at all! I knew what he wanted! I knew what he needed! Our ways of living were totally incompatible! If we wanted to be together one of us was gonna have to change! Hehehe!! I can't change who I am~ But I sure could try to change Juzo-niichan!"

Change him...change him for what Jinpachi saw as for the better. Jinpachi knew what Juzo needed...he was the one that wanted to protect Juzo. He just wanted to protect him from the whole world the same way Juzo protected him. To show Juzo a better way of living...to show him confidence...and ****...no it had to be despair...

"A new jail? That's the same thing Yuriko-chan said. I don't really get it I guess? What kind of jail could I be trapping myself in? I can do whatever I please. Everyone would be able to do as they please if they would just allow themselves to do so. People that don't want to do this are worthless. Those that can't see how it can release them are just fools that need to be shown the way! Even if it all falls apart, if it all becomes boring and predictable all over again..."

His face contorts into a grin of evil.

"Well, wouldn't that be it's own grand level of despair to have everything I worked so hard for end up just as boring for me?"

No matter what...Jinpachi finds his silver lining of misery. It was what he was after all. The living embodiment of misery.

If the world got boring then Jinpachi would just have to spice it up again, he would have to twist the world into something else he desires yet again.

Hanji continues on, long gone, just as dead as Juzo was. Jinpachi has to concur that what they said was a fact. Jinpachi...the Jinpachi of over ten years ago was gone. He had been replaced by what was now known as The Shepherd. A being that would never find any hopeful joy in life ever again. All he can do is drag the world down with him...that would be his despairing joy.

Hanji was pissing Jinpachi off...that wasn't anything new though.

Just like his parents...Jinpachi finds a smile overtaking his expression. What a thing to be called...

His parents...

"Jinpachi. This is what you were born to be. This is who you were born to be! Our little genius."

"He's excelling at everything! He's going to be a legend once he makes it into Hope's Peak Academy!"

"Stop all this crying! Why are you so selfish? All the work we put in for you and you act like such a brat! That other one is a bad influence on you."

"We shouldn't keep him around anymore. He's going to ruin you."

Jinpachi was...the harbinger of his own demise...even when he was a child. Hopefully athletic...hopefully intelligent...hopefully perfect. Jinpachi was the child that could do everything. A genius the likes of which the world wouldn't have seen before. But he didn't want to be a genius...He just wanted to be happy.

Like Hanji...what Jinpachi desired more than anything else was his own freedom. He wanted to spread his wings and be whoever he wanted to be. By his side...to show him that was always Juzo. His other half...his person that would always protect him. His brother that protected him.

Jinpachi loved Juzo. Jinpachi loved Juzo more than he could ever love anything else in the entire world. But it was because of Jinpachi that Juzo was taken away. Because Juzo taught Jinpachi freedom, he was lost. Jinpachi was lost...he had his freedom taken from him...and he fell into the grasps of his parents.

Jinpachi still loved Juzo though, every night, he dreamed of finding him. He dreamed of running away from home and reuniting with him. If he could be with Juzo then everything was going to be okay for them. Jinpachi wanted his brother...he needed his brother...As long as he could hold onto a sliver of hope...then everything was going to be okay!

The world ended...

Jinpachi was safe with his parents...but still he watched the carnage begin. People slaughtering each other...it wasn't just the freedom that enticed Jinpachi into despair.

It was Jinpachi's love. His hopeful love and hopes to see his brother again were twisted and shredded before his very eyes as the world fell to ruin. This love for his brother...became a love that left him breathless...a love that clawed at his heart and ripped it asunder. A love that left him lifeless...that left him hopeless...

That was Jinpachi's true fall into despair...the moment that AEDS took its hold on his underdeveloped brain and would never let go...

The moment that he felt his hopes of ever seeing Juzo again...were ripped from him. After he lost that, there was no need for anything else...there was only freedom...there was only destruction...and there was only chaos.

Even after they finally did reunite...when the truth was that Juzo was always alive...Jinpachi was too far gone. He wanted Juzo to feel his despair, to know his despair, to connect with him again on a deeper level...

How dare any of them not understand...how dare they question his undying love and devotion for Juzo.

All he can do is laugh...all he can do is clap his hands together in pure amusement.

"Ahahahaha!!! What wonderful things from you, oji-san! Juzo-niichan was always chasing the impossible! Drowning himself in his own hopeful despair! There was no going back! I couldn't consider his love because it wasn't going to ever happen! Should I have lead him into believing? Maybe I should've...maybe then...he could've felt an even stronger despair when he realized it was impossible..."

His love was despair...

The thing...he hated most...the people he hated the most. He remembers...he remembers his weapon tearing through his mother's body. Her running and screaming out as she realized her own son...the one she brought into this experiment was the volunteer with AEDS. He didn't want to give her voice...because of what she did to Juzo...Her blood was warm...and he kept going until her blood was cold. How could he be anything like her? If he was...then he should surely meet the same despairing fate as she did.

Jinpachi assumed that Juzo felt the same way...Juzo's first task...before meeting Jinpachi at Happy Smiles and take his place, was to enact his own revenge. As much as Juzo didn't want to ever admit it...he felt his own joy at getting revenge. His father's confusion at who was standing in front of him...his confusion that was clarified as a blade sliced through him...

"Being everything I hated...I suppose...that makes me satisfied. Satisfied to know what's coming? How about that? Does that answer satisfy you, oji-san~"

[hajihiko]

Hello! saw you were doing angst hc's, so whenever you have the time, may I ask for some Akane ones? shes my favourite srd2 chara and I utterly adore how you draw her :]

Yesss. But shes a tragic bitch so be warned alright

(hey! I drafted this ages ago but it disappeared, somehow it's back!)

She didn't super want to go to HPA, but being able to earn enough to support her huge family was way more important than what she felt like. Being the Honour Student of her family is a huge weight though and it's only because she doesn't like think about it that she doesn't stress about it.

Her authority figures have been so goddamn garbage that she was wary of almost all the teachers, in her own seemingly chill way

Akane and Hiko are climbing enthusiast buddies! Akane because (canon) climbing means easier escape from people who wanna hurt her, and it's impossible to catch her once she gets good at it.

Once she gets real close and friendly with her class / the Survivors, she lets them serve themselves food first. She did the same with her little siblings. But if you're not that close with her she's real defensive about food.

Used to do that thing where she smuggles food into her room and hides it, in case she ever needs to scrounge again. Unfortunately it got stinky after a bit, but Teru helped her choose the best non-perishables.

Holds the record for Youngest To See A Dead Person.

Someone- dont remember who- said that she has her extremely good Danger Sense because she had to learn real fast to tell who wanted to help her and who wanted to hurt her. She can't always tell when people are being mean, because who cares, but her gut feeling is amazing at letting her know if someone's about to put her or hers in danger.

She likes fighting, genuinely, like she just thinks it's fun and makes sense. But also, she likes the idea of being an amazing fighter because she likes thinking no one can fuck with her.

This is why ghosts are scary. Can't beat them! Can't fight them at all. Also they just are, especially when you're a kid in a house with weird noises and no lights and no adults to help you sleep.

She was surprised when she and Nekomaru were doing their thing, and she told him to back off / not touch her, and he just. Did? Immediately? And apologized even? Even though he could easily overpower her at that time. Nekomaru is very large and very strong but very kind and gentle and it's confusing but like in a good way.

It's really hard for her to realize how messed up her childhood was. She got so good at Not Thinking About It, and now it's hard to break that habit, nevermind to confront the fact that every available person in her whole life failed her.

That said, she wouldn't take anyone else getting harassed lightly. It's just not a big deal that it happened to *her*, because well, she's so strong and only got stronger! And she's fine now see? So it's no big deal! <- not true, but how she thinks.

She's skipped so many things other people consider basic, like celebrating holidays or having a boyfriend/girlfriend or shopping for school supplies, etc. She's got a lot of practical skills though, but she mostly didn't have a choice with those.

She never really developed much of a fashion sense until much later in life, until then she just dressed how her mom would dress them both (or ... Other men). Turns out she likes athleisure wear and has a much more mature way of dressing than you'd think (like the prom pics!)

[soobmint]

voices | choi beomgyu [f] soulmates! au, 14.2k words

s u m m a r y : after seeing your soulmate for the first time (whether in passing or by actually meeting them), you are able to hear their voice in your head—but only when they are singing. you have never been very interested in finding love, and choi beomgyu has lost all interest in singing. what happens when the two of you begin to change one another’s minds about the things you wish to avoid more than anything else?

c o n t e n t s : soulmates au, strangers to sorta enemies to lovers, guitarist! gyu, freckle gyu, college au, yeonjun is your best friend, gyu is a brat but a cute brat, very fluffy, a tiny bit of light angst

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @chanluster @honeyju​ @magicalstellar @yeonjuniper​ (if you’d like to be added to the taglist for future oneshots, please let me know!)

n o t e : this was requested by my dear friend alice, and i hope i did the request justice! the lyrics used in the oneshot are from genius’ english translation of “runaway.” i hope you guys enjoy the oneshot, and do kindly leave a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed it! that would mean the world!

YOU MET CHOI BEOMGYU THE DAY YOU SWORE TO NEVER FALL IN LOVE.

 As dramatic as it sounded, the day hadn’t been quite so terrible. You were sitting cross-legged in the floor of one of the many practice rooms in your university’s music department with a bag of popcorn in your lap, your head leaned back against the wall as you stifled back a yawn. Your best friend, Yeonjun, was going on and on about his most recent breakup, but the story was so similar to all the other breakups he had gone through in the past two years that you were having a difficult time staying focused. The afternoon sunlight trickled in through the windows, reflecting off the symbols of the drum set that rested in the far corner. You scooted to the side a bit so that the light wouldn’t shine in your eyes anymore as Yeonjun paced back and forth in front of you.

 “And then she just stopped talking to me,” He said, running his hands through his hair. “Out of nowhere too! Things had been going so well, but then it was weird. Next thing I know, she’s breaking up with me—get this—over text.”

 You tossed a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Tragic.”

 “I know you’re being sarcastic, but yes, it was tragic.” He finally stopped pacing and collapsed to the ground beside of you, leaning his head against your shoulder. “Love is so hard. You meet someone, you think it’s going to work and that you’ll spend a long, happy life together. Next thing you know, you’re single and stuck with your best friend in a stinky music room, waiting for some club meeting to start—or whatever it is we’re in here for.”

 “We’re here because we are in charge of organizing the music and theater departments’ performance at the open house next month,” You corrected, flicking his forehead. “And didn’t you only date this girl for like, a week?”

 He sighed, sitting up to glare at you. “Love knows not the boundaries of time, my dear friend. You’ll understand once you find it for yourself.”

 “Calm down, Shakespeare. I am not falling in love.”

 “Unfortunately for you, I don’t think you have any control over that,” He said with a teasing smile. “But why wouldn’t you want to?”

 You scoffed, turning to stare at him. “Well, for starters, you haven’t exactly given me a good idea of what ‘love’ is supposed to be, seeing as you’re crying about another ‘true-love-gone-wrong’ every three weeks. Why on earth would I want that for myself?”

 “Hey, love is different for everyone,” He said. “Just because my love life is vibrant and exciting and full of various names and faces doesn’t mean the same will happen for you.”

 “How do you predict my love life will go, then?”

 He hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in thought. “Well, you’re pretty boring, so you’ll probably be the kind of person that waits until they find their soulmate, then you’ll settle down and live a long, safe and uneventful life with them.”

 “Shut up,” you said as you shoved him, but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. “I think my soulmate is out of the question, though.”

 Yeonjun frowned. “You still haven’t heard him since back then?”

 You sighed, shaking your head as you leaned back against the wall. “Not a thing.”

 It was quiet then as the two of you thought about what this meant. It wasn’t the first time you had been faced with the reality of your situation, but it still felt like a punch to the stomach every time.

 In a world where people waited years, decades even, to hear the voice of their soulmate singing in their head, you had been considered extremely lucky to have heard the gentle voice of a boy in your mind at the age of thirteen. You knew that you had to have met him somewhere—at least in passing—in order to hear him, but you had no clue who he was.

 Yet, in a way, it felt like you did. He sang often—so often you wondered if singing was as necessary as breathing to him. It wasn’t a bother to you though; in fact, it was quite the opposite. The songs he sang always told a story; some spoke of love and joy, others off loss and heartache. You felt like each song he sang held a piece of him, and that piece was something that was shared just between the two of you.

 Until his voice was gone.

 It was rare for him to go a day without singing. Yet suddenly, in your sophomore year of college, days and weeks went by without a single note, and you had yet to hear his voice since.

 Your soulmate had stopped singing, and it was difficult to not imagine that the worst had happened.

 Yeonjun must have noticed the solemn look that came over your face, because he leaned over and gave your shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t be so gloomy,” he said. “He could still be out there.”

 You smiled the best you could, although the pit in your stomach remained. “Yeah, I guess he could.” You tossed the popcorn to Yeonjun and stood to your feet, wiping the crumbs from your hands. “Wait here, okay? The other guy that’s supposed to be helping us is—” You paused to glance at the time on your phone, “—ten minutes late. I’m gonna make sure he knows where to come or see if he’s lost or something.”

 Yeonjun nodded, helping himself to what was left of your snack. “Who is the other guy, anyway?”

 You sighed, picking up the piece of paper that the department head gave to you when she asked you to organize the showcase, claiming that it would be a great deal of experience for you to acquire in your senior year of university.

 You were mostly doing it for the extra credit points.

 You began to read the names of the seniors that were in charge of organizing the project listed at the top of the paper. “From the drama department, Choi Yeonjun and Kang Taehyun.”

 “Taehyun had an appointment,” Yeonjun said through a mouthful of popcorn. “He’ll be here tomorrow.”

 You nodded, tracing your finger along the page, stopping beneath the next pair of names. “From the music department, Y/N and Choi Beomgyu.” You looked up from the paper, tapping your forefinger against your chin. “Choi Beomgyu? Do you know him?”

 Yeonjun pondered for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Ah—that guy!” You weren’t surprised; Yeonjun seemed to know everyone in the performing arts programs at your school. “He’s one of the top guitar students, if I’m remembering correctly. Have you not heard of him?”

 You shook your head, looking back down at his name. Choi Beomgyu. It did sound familiar, but no images or information came along with the words printed on the page. It was nothing more than a tugging feeling in your stomach that made you feel like you knew him from somewhere.

 You began walking towards the door, still staring down at the paper. Just as the tips of your fingers brushed across the metal handle, the door swung open, and you barely had time to glance up and see a head of fluffy black hair and big brown eyes before the door crashed into your forehead so hard you fell backwards to the tile floor.

 With a hiss, you brought your hand up to your forehead, relieved to find a lack of blood there. Your eyes were blurred with tears, but through the fog you were able to see the same round doe eyes you had caught a glimpse of before you hit the ground.

 “Are you okay?” It was a guy’s voice, clear and ringing in your ears. You rubbed your eyes to clear some of the moisture and were then able to get a better look at the boy in front of you. Curly black bangs hung over his brows, brushing just over the tops of his wide chocolate eyes. His sun-kissed skin was sprinkled with a light spatter of freckles across his nose and lightly flushed cheeks.

 You blinked several times before responding. “Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You accepted his hand when he offered to help you stand back up, and soon, you were on your feet once more.

 “Sorry about that,” he said, brushing a hand through his already tousled hair. He leaned forward a bit, tapping his finger against your forehead. “Just got a tiny bump, though. You’ll be okay.”

 You backed away from his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice as he had caught sight of Yeonjun. Your best friend was quite literally on the edge of his seat, perched on the ledge of the desk while shoveling the last crumbs of popcorn into his mouth as if this were some movie unfolding before his eyes. If you had been close enough, you would have hit him.

 “Yeonjun?” Door Boy’s face lit up, and he strode over to give your pink-haired friend a high five. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

 “Hey, man,” Yeonjun said with a grin, ruffling Door Boy’s curly hair with his fingers. “I know, it’s been way too long.”

 “I’m sorry, who’s this?” You asked, still a bit dazed from your unexpected collision with the door.

 Yeonjun looked back at you, gesturing to the newcomer. “Oh, this is—”

 “Choi Beomgyu,” he finished the introduction himself, giving you an overdramatic bow as he said his name. “And you must be Y/N?”

 Things were beginning to click together in your head: Door Boy was Choi Beomgyu. In other words, Door Boy was your assigned partner—the one you would be spending the next four weeks trying to plan a performance with.

 For some reason, the fact that you had met one another by him slamming a door into your face didn’t leave the best feeling in your chest.

 “I look forward to working with you, Y/N.” He gave you a big, lopsided grin, one that any other person would likely find heartwarming.

 You forced a smile in return, rubbing your hand across the bump on your forehead. “Same here, Choi Beomgyu.”

 -

 PERHAPS IT HAD A BIT TO DO WITH HOW POORLY YOUR FIRST MEETING WENT, BUT SOMETHING ABOUT BEOMGYU REALLY GOT UNDER YOUR SKIN.

 The day after you had first met one another, Yeonjun had asked everyone to meet up in the coffee shop inside the campus library. This time, Taehyun from the drama department was also able to be there. You had gotten to know him pretty well over the past four years because of how close he and Yeonjun had become, so the three of you hung out often.

 In fact, for the first fifteen minutes of the meeting, it was just the three of you sitting there. You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek in agitation before taking another sip of your coffee. “Does this Beomgyu guy have a thing for being late?”

 “Relax, Y/N,” Yeonjun said absently from across the table, his attention focused primarily on his cell phone screen. “Not everyone’s a time freak like you.”

 “Time freak—What does that even mean?” You crumpled up the wrapper from Taehyun’s straw and threw it at Yeonjun. “Unlike you, I actually care about getting these extra credit points and would like to organize this event properly.”

 “Hey! I care!” Yeonjun placed a hand over his heart, as though he had been wounded.

 You and Taehyun exchanged a side glance with one another, eyebrows raised.

“Stop looking at each other like that! I do care!”

 Before the point could be argued any further, a messy-haired boy crashed into the seat beside of you, out of breath, his backpack falling from his shoulder and onto the ground from the impact. You stared at him for a moment before realizing that it was Beomgyu.

 “Sorry—I’m late,” he said in between deep breaths. “On my way here—saw one of the campus cats—got distracted.”

 You stared at him again, almost laughing at how ridiculous of an excuse that was. However, considering what little you knew of Beomgyu, the thought of him being fifteen minutes late to a meeting because he got distracted by a cat didn’t seem all that unlikely. With a sigh, you slid a blank piece of notebook paper towards him and set a pen on top of it. “It’s all good. Mind taking notes?”

 He nodded—a bit too enthusiastically, if you were to say so yourself. “Sure. Can I grab a coffee real quick?”

 You were about to suggest that he should wait until after the meeting, since the three of you had been there for such a long time already, but Taehyun chimed in before you could say anything with, “Of course. We’ve got nowhere else to be.”

 It took everything within you to not roll your eyes. You were usually on the same page as Taehyun, but of course, this situation had to be an exception, because Choi Beomgyu was there.

 The slacker was rummaging around his backpack, searching for something. He pouted, looking up from his bag. “I forgot my wallet.”

 “No worries! Y/N doesn’t eat breakfast, so she always has an extra swipe on her meal card,” Yeonjun said from across the table. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide as saucers. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind letting you use it. Right, Y/N?”

 You weren’t quite sure that you did want Beomgyu to use your meal card, but what kind of jerk would you be if you said no? With gritted teeth and a glare at your best friend, you fished your meal card out of your wallet and placed it into Beomgyu’s open palm.

 The pout left his lips instantly, a big grin taking its place. “Thanks. I’ll return the favor sometime soon.”

 Doubt it, you thought, watching him rush towards the counter to order. You’ll probably forget you said that by the time you get your drink.

 Soon he was back at the table, caramel latte in hand, your meal card back in your possession. You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “If everyone’s ready, we can go ahead and get started. I met with my professor yesterday—she’s also the head of the classical music department. She’s technically our ‘overseer,’ but all the responsibility of planning the performance is on us. We’ll only have about forty minutes total to showcase the drama and music departments, so we need to choose our sets wisely.”

 “Yeonjun and I were talking a bit about this earlier,” Taehyun said. “We’ve been preparing for our winter show since the beginning of the summer, so we figured we could just perform a scene from the play.”

 You nodded, liking the idea. “That sounds perfect. What’s the play?”

 “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

 “Right, I knew that. Could you guys work on finding a scene around ten or fifteen minutes long to perform for the open house, then?”

 Yeonjun and Taehyun both nodded. You smiled, glad that you were finally starting to get some things together for the event.

 When you glanced at Beomgyu to make sure he had written that down, the smile left as quickly as it had come when you saw that he was doodling tiny flowers and hearts all over the page rather than taking notes.

 He must have felt your eyes on him, because he glanced up and caught your gaze. Seemingly unbothered, he simply smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I was just about to write it down.”

 Your fingers itched to reach over and take the pen and paper from him so you could just do it yourself, but you kept your composure. “Beomgyu. Any ideas for what the music department could do?”

 He finished writing down Drama Department—Scene from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” before looking at you again. He shrugged, another nonchalant smile spreading across his face. “Not really. I’m down for whatever it is you decide to do.”

 “Wow, helpful. Truly.” Your eyes went wide when you realized you had said those words out loud after Yeonjun and Taehyun began to snicker beside you. Your face flushed with embarrassment, but Beomgyu seemed unphased, that careless lopsided grin of his still on full display.

 You sighed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Well, I was thinking about having the orchestra do a piece, and then having one of the student bands do a piece. That way we have something classical and something more contemporary. Thoughts?”

 “I think that’s a good idea,” Taehyun said. “If we do our scene first, the orchestra could kind of act as a bridge between Shakespeare and more modern art.”

 “I agree,” Yeonjun said. “And since Y/N is in the orchestra, she can get in touch with the director and have them prepare something. Oh, and Beomgyu!” The curly-haired boy looked up from his doodling when his name was called. “You know a few different bands, right? Think you could piece together a group of performers?”

 “Definitely,” Beomgyu said. When he noticed your eyes on him, he quickly scribbled down Orchestra—Y/N. Band—Beomgyu Me.

 “Well, since we all have our first tasks, I guess that’s all for today.” You were happy that the meeting was over; you were ready to get back to your dorm so you could get to work and actually get things done.

 “Wait!” Beomgyu said as you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

 Now you have something to say. You raised a brow at him expectantly.

 “We should exchange phone numbers, right?” He smiled, standing up and holding his phone out towards you. “I have the others’ numbers, but I figure I should be able to contact my partner from the music department.”

 You hesitated, but knew there was no logical reason why you shouldn’t give him your number. You were going to be working together for the next several weeks, after all.

 After putting your number in, he took his phone back and grinned at you again, eyes scrunching up into crescent moons. “Perfect! I’ll try not to bother you too much, but I make no promises.” He reached forward and ruffled your hair, and you were too caught off guard by the sudden touch to back away, or to even react at all. He then waved at all three of you, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “See you guys tomorrow then.” He turned towards you again, throwing you a casual wink that still managed to have you flustered. “I’ll be in touch, partner.”

 You turned to watch him leave, face warm as you brushed through your hair with your fingers, trying to undo the damage your “partner” had done.

 Something told you that he wouldn’t be keeping his promise about trying not to bother you anytime soon.

 -

 OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, BEOMGYU PROVED HIMSELF TO BE ONE OF THE MOST BOTHERSOME PEOPLE YOU HAD COME ACROSS IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

 The worst part was the fact that he didn’t do anything blatantly wrong. He did everything he was asked to do when it came to preparing for the showcase. The first week of work consisted of the two of you gathering all the students who would be participating in the performances, along with Yeonjun and Taehyun preparing those from the drama department. Beomgyu performed all of his tasks just as he was asked to do, so it wasn’t as if he was bothering you by being unhelpful.

 It was just something about the way he held himself that seemed to get under your skin for no apparent reason.

 For the past week, your “partner” had basically been a tagalong—he would stand beside of you and do what he was asked without contributing much to the creative process of planning. You found it hard to criticize him up front, as he just did as he was told.

 However, that was all he did. When the four of you would all sit down together to discuss plans or ideas, Beomgyu’s role never changed: he would sit beside all of you, jot down anything you told him to in his nearly-full composition notebook, and crack an occasional joke that would always send Yeonjun and Taehyun into fits of laughter, but only earned a stiff, forced smile from you.

 You were starting to wonder why your professor had assigned him to your team. After all, putting on this open house was your last shot at making a lasting impression on the higher ups in your department. Everything needed to be perfect; mediocracy was not an option.

 In other words, Choi Beomgyu needed to step up his game, and he needed to do it quickly.

 You thought about this on the day of your first rehearsal, where all of the students who would be participating in the performances had gathered in the main auditorium of the music building.

 Drama students were scattered in all directions, occupying the space around them with dramatic line readings and critiques for their classmates as they practiced their roles. Yeonjun and Taehyun were busy taking charge of the drama students, making sure everything was running smoothly amongst them. You watched as Kai, one of the freshman students Yeonjun had taken under his wing, followed your friends around like a baby penguin waddling after its parents, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

 Music students were spread across the stage, the orchestra setting up instruments and covering stands with sheets filled by notes and lyrics while the band tuned their guitars and plugged up their mics. Soobin, a tall, blue-haired student from the same year as you, waved at you from stage with his mic in hand. You waved back, happy that you had been able to snag him as the main vocalist for the band’s performance—his voice was angelic, able to captivate any listener.

 “Hey.” You turned at the sound of the voice you had begun to grow quite accustomed to, whether that was for better or for worse. Beomgyu was standing beside of you, brushing a hand through the curly black bangs that hung just above his eyes. The tip of his nose was flushed pink, a sign that he had likely just been out in the biting cold that had begun to creep up as fall quickly approached. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and his guitar case held in one hand.

 “Running a little late, aren’t we?” You asked, glancing at the time on your phone with no attempt at hiding your frown. “Is this going to be a trend with you, Choi Beomgyu?”

 He laughed, nudging his shoulder against yours. You wanted to be more irritated with him than you were, but he had the kind of laugh that put everyone around him at ease; the kind of laugh that filled one’s chest with warmth, as if you had been directly touched by a ray of sunlight reaching down from the sky.

 So you settled with being only slightly irritated, pursing your lips to keep your expression in check as he responded with, “What fun would it be if everyone was on time?”

 “It’s not about fun, it’s about making sure this whole thing runs smoothly,” you said as you turned to face him. “Speaking of which, since you didn’t have any suggestions, I went ahead and helped the band choose a setlist. They’ll only have time for two songs, but the ones I picked are really diverse and should be—”

 “Ah!” He cut you off, snapping his fingers in front of your face, causing you to flinch back in surprise. “I knew there was something I forgot to tell you.”

 “What?”

 He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning as he shifted a bit closer to you. You could smell his cologne—a misty citrus scent that was so light you could barely tell it was there. “Well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but the professor actually wanted the band to perform one of the songs I wrote. If that’s okay with you, of course—you’re the boss, after all.”

 “You—you write songs?” You asked, trying not to get irritated at the sudden disruption of what you had planned. He had been complacent this entire time, so of course, the time he actually had something to contribute, he would be messing up what you had already set in place.

 “Well, if it’s a suggestion from the professor, I can’t just deny you permission, can I?” You said with a forced laugh. “Do you have the—”

 “Sheet music?” He finished your sentence, shaking a stack of papers in front of you. “Right here, partner. Want me to go tell the band?”

 You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure. Just tell them to switch the second song I had picked out with this one.”

 He smiled at you again, ruffling your hair with the same hand he held the papers in. “You’re a saint. I’ll talk to you in a bit then?”

 You had no time to respond before he was setting off towards the stage to talk to the band, papers and guitar in hand. You huffed through pursed lips, mumbling under your breath as you tried to put your hair back in place.

 “What was that all about?” You dropped your hands to your sides when Yeonjun approached you, eyebrow quirked. Half of his cotton-candy colored hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he had on a pair of big round glasses with what you knew to be fake lenses—a fashion statement rather than a necessity.

 “I don’t think Beomgyu knows much about personal boundaries or personal responsibility,” you mumbled, allowing Yeonjun to come up and finish fixing your hair with his fingers. “He decided to just now tell me that our professor wanted the band to use one of his songs in the performance.”

 “What’s wrong with that?”

 “Nothing’s wrong with it, I just—” You hesitated, unsure of how to respond without sounding like a jerk. “I just wish he would have told me about it sooner. That’s all.”

 “Y/N, you need to cut the guy some slack,” Yeonjun said, stepping back once he was finished fixing up your hair. “You act as though you have a personal vendetta against him or something.”

 “I do not,” You argued, feeling you defenses flare up at his words. “Why would you say that?”

 “I don’t know, maybe because every time he walks in the room you start to grimace, and every time he talks to you I can literally feel the amount of energy it takes for you to not roll your eyes.”

 “You’re exaggerating.”

 “If you say so.” He put his hand on your shoulder, giving you a stern look that did, in fact, make you roll your eyes. “Give him a chance, Y/N. You may end up liking him more than you’d expect.”

 You scoffed as your best friend walked away from you, returning to work on his previous tasks with Taehyun. A vendetta? Was it really that obvious to the people around you that Beomgyu got under your skin?

 Perhaps Yeonjun was right—you did have a tendency to be extra sensitive when it came to your academic responsibilities. Maybe you were being too hard on Beomgyu; his goal was the same as yours, even if his methods differed drastically from yours.

 You looked up to the stage to see Beomgyu laughing as he said something to Soobin, the rest of the band analyzing the sheets of music in their hands—Beomgyu’s song, if you had to guess. His skin glowed like honey beneath the stage lights, and you noticed that when he laughed, he laughed with his entire body; his eyes disappeared into crescents, his shoulders shook, he clapped his hands together and even stomped his feet a bit. You smiled slightly at the sight, before a pang of guilt hit you.

 He did seem like a nice guy. It was time you gave him a chance to be seen as such in your eyes.

 -

 ANY PATIENCE YOU HAD DESPERATELY TRIED TO HOLD WITH BEOMGYU WAS WEARING THIN, AND IT HAD ONLY BEEN AN HOUR SINCE YOU DECIDED TO GIVE HIM A CHANCE.

 You had both stayed behind with Yeonjun and Taehyun to clean up the auditorium after the practice. “I think that we’re done, don’t you?” You asked everyone after picking up a few discarded sheets of paper left behind by the drama students.

 “Almost,” Beomgyu said from the stage. You looked up at him to see him pointing at two large music stands left behind by the orchestra. “Someone left these behind.”

 “Can’t we just leave them there?” Yeonjun asked.

 Taehyun shook his head. “No, we were given specific instructions to not leave anything behind.” He glanced at his phone. “They’re about to close the building for the night, so we should hurry and put them up.”

 “I know which room they came from, so I can take them back,” Beomgyu offered.

 “They’re pretty heavy, Beomgyu. Are you sure you can carry them on your own?” Taehyun asked.

 “Yeah, it’s fine—”

 “No, no, someone should definitely help you. You have to carry your guitar too,” Yeonjun interjected, a mischievous glint in your eyes that sent sirens blaring in your head. The feelings of disdain only grew when Yeonjun made eye contact with you directly, seeming to give you a sweet smile, but you knew the expression was laced with ulterior motives. “Y/N, why don’t you carry one while Beomgyu carries the other?”

 You wanted to smack him, but that wouldn’t have been a good look for you, considering that everyone already thought you hated Beomgyu anyways. You glanced up at him on the stage to see that he had already picked one of the stands up, his guitar in the other hand.  He gave you a big grin, eyes sparkling like freshly fallen snow. “What do you say, partner? Care to give me a hand?”

 You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this one. “Sure,” You said through your teeth, glaring daggers at Yeonjun before making your way up the steps to the stage. The music stand wasn’t too heavy, so you almost dared to ask Beomgyu to try carrying them both in one hand, but decided against it.

 “We’ll go ahead and leave then,” Yeonjun said, throwing a taunting wink your way. “You two have fun.”

 You hate to bite your tongue to keep from cursing at him as Yeonjun and Taehyun left the auditorium, leaving you alone with Beomgyu for the first time. You glanced his way, noticing that he already had his eyes on you. Instead of averting his gaze when yours met his, he just smiled wider, gesturing towards the door with his head. “Shall we?”

 You forced another smile. “Lead the way, partner.”

 You followed him out the doors and up the stairs to the first floor, where the orchestra’s practice room was located. You were very familiar with the area, being a violinist yourself. When the two of you reached the room, you rushed forward to open the door, as Beomgyu’s hands were full. He thanked you and stepped inside first, and you followed suit, letting the heavy door swing shut behind you.

 “Where should we set them?” He asked.

 You nodded to the far corner of the room. “Over there.”

 The two of you set the stands down, and you instantly turned back towards the door, ready to get back to your dorm for some alone time after such a taxing day.

 “In a rush?” Beomgyu asked from behind you.

 You turned to look over your shoulder at him as your hand grasped the doorknob. “Nah, just tired. Aren’t you?”

 He shrugged, shifting his guitar case from one hand to the other. “Not really.”

 “Lucky you,” You mumbled, turning back towards the door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—”

 You stopped mid-sentence, heart dropping to your toes. When you tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t move. After a moment of shock, you tried again, and then again, violently shaking the knob, trying to get the door to open.

 “No, no, no,” You said, shaking the handle desperately. “Come on, this can’t be happening!”

 “What is it?” Beomgyu asked, setting his guitar on the floor before rushing to your side.

 “The door won’t open.” You shook the knob more frantically than ever, the entire door shaking from the force.

 “Woah, easy there, partner,” Beomgyu said, gently placing his hand on your arm. “Why don’t you let me try to—”

 “What exactly do you think you’re going to be able to do differently?” You snapped, snatching your arm away from him. His mouth hung open, eyes wide with what you assumed to be shock. “We’re stuck in here, Beomgyu. We’re stuck, and we’re not going to get out for god knows how long, and with you as my ‘partner,’ I’m one hundred percent certain we’re not going to be able to find a way out of here on our own.”

 You could tell that your words struck a nerve with him by the way his shoulders tensed and how his eyes went narrow. Looking back, you wished you could reel the words back in, but they had already done their damage.

 “Why do you hate me so much?” He asked, his voice low and thick with irritation.

 It was your turn to be shocked. “What?”

 “I said, why do you hate me so much?”

 You blinked rapidly, feeling exposed and vulnerable now that he was confronting you. “I don’t—I don’t hate you, Beomgyu.”

 He scoffed, pulling his bottom lip under his teeth. “Come on, I’m not that much of an idiot. This entire time, from the moment we first met, you’ve been cold and snippy with me. You can barely hide how much you dislike me with your facial expressions. I thought maybe we just got off on the wrong foot, so I’ve been brushing it off and treating you kindly. But you still treat me like I’m some annoying fly that you can’t quite get rid of, and I want to know why.”

 “That’s not—I don’t hate you,” You repeated, jumbling your words together as you struggled to figure out what to say.

 “Well, what’s the issue then?”

 “You don’t take anything seriously!” Your voice wasn’t quite a shout, but it was almost there. Beomgyu took a step back, arms dropping to his sides.

 “You’re treating this entire thing like it’s an elementary school play,” You continued, your voice getting louder and your words coming out more and more rushed the more you spoke. “You don’t contribute in the meetings, you show up late, and you barely do the things I ask you to do. I understand it may not be anything special to you, but this is my last chance to do something memorable here. I’m graduating in the spring, and up until this point, I’ve been nothing but another violinist tossed in the orchestra. I don’t stand out to my professors, or to scouts, to anyone.”

 Hot tears began to well in the corners of your eyes as thoughts of your mother surfaced. Every word she had ever said about your pursuit of music being a waste of time, of how little a chance you had of making it, how your only hope was to stand out in the department, which, of course, she highly doubted you would be capable of doing.

 “I have to do this, and I have to do it right.” Your voice wavered as you swiped at your cheeks, where a few tears had fallen. “If I don’t, then I’ll—I’ll—”

 “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Beomgyu’s voice was gentle, in stark contrast to the razor-sharp tone he had held just seconds before. You looked at him through your teary eyes to see that his own eyes were wide, this time with concern rather than anger. “You don’t have to explain, I understand, okay? I’m sorry, Y/N.”

 You sniffed, more tears gliding down your cheeks as you did so. “What?”

 “I’m sorry,” He repeated, looking as though he were about to start crying himself. “I had no idea that’s how I was coming across. I’m really, really sorry.”

 You stared at him, dumbfounded. How were you supposed to respond to that? The last thing you expected to hear from him was an apology, especially since, now that you had yelled at him, you realized how unfair you were being towards him. You shook your head, wiping furiously at your eyes. “No, you don’t have to apologize Beomgyu. I should be apologizing—I’m the one being irrational, not to mention I’m also the one that locked us in here—”

 “How about we just call it even then, hm?” He cut you off, looking around before he spotted a box of tissues on the front desk. He grabbed one and made his way back over to you, gently wiping the tears from your face, being careful to not touch you directly. “We’ve both apologized for something that the other person doesn’t think requires an apology. The grounds are neutral now.”

 You laughed, gently taking the tissue from his hand so you could wipe your eyes on your own. He stepped back when you did so, smiling nervously at your sudden laughter.

 “Thank you, Beomgyu,” You said quietly, wadding the tissue up in your hand.

 He rubbed the back of his neck, rocking back and forth on his feet. “No need to thank me, Y/N.” He paused, seeming to be in deep thought. It was quiet for a moment before he stuck his hand out towards you, expression cautiously hopeful. “Now that we both understand each other a little better, do you think we could start over?”

 You smiled, wrapping your hand around his to give it a firm shake. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

 -

 THE WORLD ALWAYS SEEMED COLDER WHEN YOU WERE ALONE.

 Of course, it could have felt cold because you were alone in a hotel parking lot, sitting on the cool pavement in the late hours of the night. You hadn’t brought a jacket with you, and your dress was sleeveless and made of thin fabric that didn’t do much to protect you from the wind that sent strands of hair flying across your face.

 However, you were certain that if your mother or father had been sitting beside of you that early winter’s night, you would barely even notice the bite of the wind or the goosebumps that prickled up all over your bare arms. Even the stars had denied you their company; the sky was pitch black, void of any trace of light.

 Lower lip trembling, you sighed as you kept your gaze on the sky above, thinking that maybe, if you kept looking, you’d find a single star shining amidst the darkness. Tears filled your eyes, but you wiped them away before they could fall.

 “You’re a strong girl, Y/N,” Your mother would say if she were to catch you crying. “Strong girls don’t cry, do they?”

 “No,” You whispered, even though she wasn’t there to hear you. “Strong girls don’t cry.”

 “What do you mean?”

 You jumped at the sudden voice, placing your hand over your heart before you turned your head to see a boy sitting on the pavement beside you. He had curly black hair that stuck out from beneath a beanie, covering the top of his eyes, and a big jacket on over his clothes. He seemed to be the same age as you, but of course, you couldn’t be sure.

 “W-what?” You spoke through shaking lips, pulling your arms around yourself in an attempt to stay warm.

 “You said that strong girls don’t cry,” He said, eyeing you with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

 “Oh,” you whispered, looking down at your shoes—a pair of black flats with scuff marks all over the toes. “It’s nothing— just something my mom says.”

 He hummed, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “Well, I think she’s wrong. Everyone cries, even the strongest people alive. If someone tells you they don’t cry, then they’re lying.” He turned towards you, a big grin on his face. “You don’t seem like a liar to me.”

 You sniffled, wiping your hand across your cheeks to catch the few tears that had managed to slip down. “Thanks, I think.”

 “It was definitely meant as a compliment.” He sat up straight then, narrowing his eyes at you. You shrunk back a bit, shoulders shaking as the wind only seemed to get stronger by the second.

 A moment later, he was sitting right beside of you, so close that his arm brushed against yours as he slipped his coat off, revealing an oversized hoodie beneath it. He wrapped the coat around your shoulders, and zipped it up, trapping your arms inside. He smiled again and sat back, but he was still close to you, so close that your shoulders were pressed together and his pinky was resting on top of yours.

 Eyes wide, you slowly shook your head and slipped your arms through the sleeves so you could reach the zipper. “No, I’m okay—”

 “Hey, keep it on, please,” He interrupted, placing his hand on top of yours to stop you from unzipping the coat. “It’s freezing out here, and you don’t even have any sleeves.”

 You hesitated, not wanting to be a bother to this unexpectedly kind stranger, but you would have been lying if you had said that the cold wasn’t starting to bother you. Not wanting your lips to turn blue, you nodded, pulling your arms back into the coat to keep them extra warm.

 “Thank you,” you said quietly. “What are you doing out here, by the way?”

 “Me? Oh, I was just sneaking out to the indoor pool.” He pointed over his shoulder at the building with a large dome roof made of glass. “My parents are already asleep and didn’t notice me leave. You?”

 “Ah, well, my family is staying here for the night. My parents and I are going out for dinner to celebrate my birthday.”

 “It’s your birthday?” He asked, eyes growing wide. You nodded sheepishly and his smile grew bigger before he reached over to ruffle your hair with his hand. “Happy birthday!”

 You giggled, smoothing your hair back down when he pulled his hand away. Your eyes met his, which seemed to sparkle with the light of billions of galaxies, paired perfectly with his beaming smile, and you realized that maybe you didn’t need the stars that night after all, because he alone shined brightly enough.

 He looked around then, eyebrows furrowed. “But, where are your parents? Shouldn’t you guys get going before all the restaurants close?”

 Your smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared. You swallowed, your eyes drifting towards a car that sat a few yards away from the two of you. The car was running and the lights inside were on, casting a yellow glow onto the two occupants seated in the front: your parents. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew that they were yelling by the way they pointed their fingers at each other, and by the expressions on their faces, and the intensity with which their lips were moving.

 The boy followed your gaze, his mouth parting slightly in surprise when he caught sight of your parents in the heat of their dispute. He glanced sideways at you before moving to sit in front of you, blocking your view of your parents.

 “Why don’t you sneak to the pool with me?” He asked.

 You shook your head immediately, a slight smile returning to your face. It was clear that he was trying to distract you, and you were grateful. That didn’t mean you were willing to sneak away from your parents, especially when the tension among your family was already sky high.

 “Why not?” He whined, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

 “Because I’m not supposed to move from this spot,” You said.

 “And I wasn’t supposed to leave my hotel room, yet here I am.” He shrugged nonchalantly, brushing his bangs out of his eyes only for them to fall right back into place. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 There were a lot of really terrible things that could happen as a result of you sneaking away to go night swimming with a boy you didn’t know while your parents fought in the middle of a hotel parking lot. You could probably list ten off the top of your head. However, when you looked into the starry eyes of the boy in front of you, his lips spread in an encouraging grin that made you feel warm inside despite the cold, you hesitated.

 What was the worst thing that could happen? The list seemed to be erased from your head as quickly as it appeared.

 He tilted his head to the side, a playful glint sparkling in his eyes. He stood up and stretched his hand out to you, his fingers trembling from the cold.

 “Should we run away?”

 Your fingers twitched, urging to reach out touch his own. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to find the balance between being rational and following where your heart was leading. These two things did not seem to be lining up.

 Before you could do anything, however, you heard a car door slamming shut. You jumped to your feet just in time to see your mother stepping away from the vehicle before your father drove off, leaving her alone in the parking lot. Eyes wide with worry, you watched as your mother brushed her hand across her cheeks before taking a deep breath and making her way towards you.

 “Y/N,” she said when she reached you, not even glancing at the boy beside of you as she took your face in her hands. “Your dad is going to come pick us up in the morning. How about we just have a girl’s night to celebrate your birthday instead?”

 With your heart dropping to your toes, you felt the tears welling in your eyes once again, but you refused to let them fall. You smiled and nodded, wrapping your hand around your mother’s. “Yeah. That sounds fine.”

 You turned towards the boy to see that his face was full of concern. Forcing the best smile you could, you unzipped his coat and slipped it off your shoulders before placing it back in his outstretched hands.

 “Thank you,” you said quietly. Before he could say anything back, you had turned away and began walking back towards the entrance, arm-in-arm with your mother.

 “I was thinking we could order a pizza and rent your favorite movies,” she said, straining to keep the emotion out of your voice. “I’ll order the food once we get back to the room, okay?”

 You nodded slowly, halting your footsteps just before the automatic doors that led inside.

 But when you turned your head to catch one last look at the boy who shined brighter than the stars, he was already gone.

 -

 IN THE HAZY PLACE BETWEEN SLEEPING AND WAKING, YOU COULD HAVE SWORN YOU HEARD HIM SINGING.

 With your eyes still closed, the sound rang through your head, clear as day. It was comforting, as if you had heard it before. Yet it wasn’t a sound that only echoed around you. This voice, so gentle and sweet that it seemed to drip with sugar and honey, filled all of your senses to the brim. You weren’t just hearing it, you were feeling it.

 “In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

 You sighed, swept away by the sound and the words that the voice sang. You felt as though you had heard it before, but you couldn’t quite think of where. Snuggling closer to whatever it was that you were leaning against, you allowed the faintest of smiles to trace its way across your lips.

 The singing stopped. “Y/N?”

 “Hmm?” You pressed your face closer against the warmth you were leaning into, frowning at the sudden absence of the soothing voice.

 “Are you awake?”

 “Yeah,” you mumbled, slowly forcing your eyes open.

 You weren’t quite sure where exactly you expected to be when you opened your eyes, but it definitely was not on the floor of the orchestra practice room with your head in Choi Beomgyu’s lap. Beomgyu was smiling down at you, black curls hanging over his eyes, freckles illuminated by the faint moonlight that spilled through the windows.

 You sat up quickly, trying to fix your messy hair as you felt your face grow warm. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were incredibly embarrassed that you had.

 “How—how long was I asleep?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

 “Just an hour or so. I think you got so stressed out after trying to call so many people that you just passed out,” Beomgyu said. He reached his hands toward you and helped you straighten up your hair, which only served to make your face even warmer than before.

 “Sorry,” you said, gesturing to his lap. “For . . . that.”

 He waved his hand at you before folding his hands behind his head. “Don’t apologize. Seems like you needed the sleep—you were dreaming pretty intensely.”

 “I was? Did I say anything weird in my sleep? What did I say? Was it embarrassing?” You grabbed his sleeve, eyes wide as you bombarded him with questions.

 He laughed, shaking his head in reassurance. “Don’t worry, it was nothing embarrassing. But you were talking.”

 “What did I say?”

 “Hmm, something about it being your birthday?” He placed a finger against his chin, eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure exactly what else. It was all kinda random.”

 You squeezed your eyes shut, biting the inside of your cheek as you let go of his sleeve. You remembered every bit of the dream you had—well, it wasn’t really a dream as much as it was a memory. It was embarrassing to think that Beomgyu had heard any part of the memory, but you tried not to think about it too much.

 “Beomgyu,” You said, opening your eyes once more to look at him. “Were you singing just now? Before I woke up?”

 He didn’t say anything at first, his expression blank. Then, he smiled, nudging your shoulder with his. “Of course not—you know I don’t sing. Why?”

 “Actually, for the record, I did not know that,” You corrected. “And I don’t know, I just .  . . thought I heard someone.”

 “Maybe it was your soulmate,” Beomgyu said, moving his eyebrows up and down.

 You sighed, looking down at your feet. “I wish it was. I haven’t heard from him in two years.”

 The smile fell from Beomgyu’s face right away. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t know.”

 “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”

 “Do you . . . know what happened to him?”

 You shook your head, staring at the moon through the window. “No. I don’t even know who he was.”

 “Hey, why are you speaking in the past tense?” He turned towards you and grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “Think positively, Y/N. He could still be out there. When did you first hear him?”

 “When I was thirteen,” You answered. “But he stopped singing two years ago.”

 “And you haven’t heard anything since then?”

 You hesitated, thinking back over the past two years and all the sleepless nights you had spent waiting and hoping to hear any trace of a note ringing in your ears, the faintest hint of a voice. Sometimes, when you were just about to close your eyes, you would’ve sworn that you could hear his voice for the briefest of moments before you drifted off, but you would always blame it on being sleep deprived.

 “No,” you said quietly. “I haven’t heard anything. He used to sing all the time, too. I would wake up to the sound of his voice, and it would carry me throughout each and every day. I know it sounds weird to say this about someone I don’t remember meeting, but I felt . . . connected to him, if that makes sense?”

 Beomgyu didn’t say anything, so you continued. “He’s actually the reason why I picked up the violin. I got so used to his voice, I would go around humming all day. I guess my mom got tired of hearing me, because soon after I started hearing him, my mom signed me up for violin lessons. And, well, now I’m here.”

 You looked over to see Beomgyu smiling softly, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “Do you have any idea of who it might be?”

 You were quiet for a moment. The image of the boy from the hotel parking lot with his star-struck eyes and diamond smile came to your mind, as always.

 “No. But I have someone I hope it is.”

 You looked over at him again, and this time, his eyes met yours. The silvery light of the moon highlighted the right side of his face and the bridge of his nose, casting a stark shadow across the other side. He was neither smiling nor frowning as his eyes searched yours. What exactly he was looking for you couldn’t be sure of, however, you liked the eye contact well enough to let it go on for a moment longer before you cleared your throat, looking back towards the window.

 “Did you try calling Yeonjun again?”

 “Yep. No answer.”

 “Taehyun?”

 “Nothing.”

 “The professor?”

 “Didn’t pick up—I left a message though.”

 You sighed, allowing the back of your head to hit the wall behind you. “We’ll be stuck here all night at this rate.”

 “Well, now that you’ve had a little nap, we may as well use this time to be productive,” Beomgyu said, standing to his feet and stretching his arms above his head as he did so.

 You crossed your arms, raising a brow as you watched him pull his guitar out of the case. “What’s this? Choi Beomgyu taking initiative?”

 “Hey, we said we were starting over.”

 You laughed as he sat on the edge of the desk in front of where you were sitting on the floor. He pulled the strap over his shoulder and began tuning his guitar by ear, something you always struggled to do with your violin.

 “What are you doing?” You asked.

 He strummed through all the strings, nodding when he was satisfied with the sounds. Glancing down at you, he smiled. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to show you the song I wrote.”

 Interest piqued, you sat up straighter and smiled back at him. “I was hoping that’s what you’d say.”

 He laughed, adjusting his position on the desk before his fingers found their place on the neck of the guitar. You listened attentively as he began to pick the first notes, watching the way his fingers moved deliberately across the frets, yet, his movements never lost their grace. At first, he kept his eyes focused on his hands. But as the song went on, his eyes slowly closed, and he played without seeing, relying solely on the sound of the notes he was creating and the feeling of the strings that pressed into his calloused fingertips.

 Awestruck would have been an understatement for the way you felt as you watched him play. The way he became one with the sounds he created, the way his wrist twisted to strum and how his fingertips slid across the length of the instrument as if it was the very thing they had been created to do. You were hypnotized, allowing the music to seep into your heart and make it thump against your chest like a caged bird begging to be set free.

 If you had to put a word to how he looked in that moment, “beautiful” was the closest you would be able to get.

 He opened his eyes as he strummed the last note, a gentle grin on his lips. You noticed how his eyes sparkled in the darkness, despite his back being towards the moonlight rather than his face.

 “What do you think?” He asked, his voice sounding sharp as it pierced through the thick silence that had settled over the room.

 “It was—”

 “It was real pretty, kid.”

 You yelped in surprise at the sudden voice, jumping up to your feet as Beomgyu practically fell off the desk, nearly dropping his guitar in the process. You helped steady him, and together, you looked towards the door to see that it was wide open, fluorescent light from the hallway spilling into the room as the janitor stood in the entry way, arms crossed over his chest as he blew a bubble with the gum in his mouth.

 “If you’re done serenading your girlfriend, would you mind leaving so I can clean up and go home? This building closed an hour ago, but if you both leave now I’ll keep quiet.”

 Your cheeks went hot, and you struggled to form words as Beomgyu scrambled to put his guitar back in its case. “Girl—girlfriend? No, we’re not—I mean, I’m not his—we just got stuck and—”

 “Thank you, sir. We’re really sorry.” Beomgyu cut you off as he picked up his guitar case with one hand and wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You gasped, but were too stunned to do anything but follow Beomgyu’s lead as he pulled you out of the room.

 “What was that about?” You asked once the two of you had safely made it out of the building. “You were not serenading me.”

 Beomgyu shrugged, letting his arm fall from your shoulders. Your mouth fell open at his lack of a denial. “Choi Beomgyu! Stop messing around.”

 “Who said I was messing around?” He teased, winking at you as he began to walk towards his dorm building, which was on the other side of campus from yours.

 You scoffed but said nothing as you watched his back while he walked away from you, trying to piece together what had just happened.

 “See you tomorrow, Y/N!” He shouted, turning around as he walked so he could wave goodbye.

 You gave him a weak-hearted wave in return, pressing your hands against your flushed cheeks as you slowly began to tread back to your own dorm room.

 How strange it was that just that morning, you would have given almost anything to avoid seeing Beomgyu.

 But now, you found yourself counting down the minutes left until the next day so you could see him again.

 -

 WHEN YOU GOT BACK TO YOUR DORM FROM REHEARSAL THE NEXT EVENING, YOU HAD A TEXT.

 Beomgyu: I know we said we were starting over, but I can’t forget that I still owe you a coffee. Meet me at the library in 15?

 You felt like an idiot, but you couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face. Slipping your shoes back on, you typed out a quick reply before slipping out the door.

 You: Make it 5. I’ll be waiting.

 When you arrived at the library, you were surprised to see that Beomgyu was already there. The line for coffee was very short, as most students had settled into their dorms for the night. Only a few stray overachievers and those that were desperately trying to cram for exams were there, and Beomgyu had claimed a place in line amongst them. He held his guitar in one hand, as per usual, and you wondered if there would ever come a time in which you would see him without it.

 “How is it that you demanded to meet me ten minutes earlier than I planned, and I still got here before you?” He asked once you had reached him.

 “First of all, I did not demand anything from you,” You said, pushing your fist against his shoulder. “Secondly, that is so unfair, because you know that your dorm is way closer to the library than mine is.”

 “Sounds like an excuse to me, but okay. Ah, it’s our turn.” He placed his hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to the counter. Your stomach flipped, but for some reason, you didn’t mind.

 After the two of had gotten your coffees, Beomgyu told you to follow him up the stairs. You expected to stop at the second floor, but to your surprise, he kept leading you. He took you through a door in the back that you didn’t even know existed, where there was another flight of stairs. At the end of these stairs was another door. You stepped outside and found yourself on the rooftop, with a great view of the campus below.

 “Are you sure we’re allowed to be up here?” You asked.

 “Well, no. But I’ve come up here a lot and never gotten in trouble, so what’s the harm?”

 “That does not make me feel any better.”

 “Come on, Y/N.” He took your hand in his and brought you over to the wide ledge, big enough for the two of you to sit on without the fear of falling off. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 You paused, eyes growing wide. He stared back at you as he hoisted himself up on the ledge. He took a sip of his coffee before asking, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

 You shook your head, setting your coffee beside of him before bringing yourself up to sit on the ledge yourself.

 “Nothing,” You said. “You just reminded me of someone.”

 “Ah.” He stared at you for a moment longer before he slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around your shoulders. You opened your mouth to protest, but he placed his finger against your parted lips, which was more than enough to shut you up.

 “Just accept an act of kindness, would you?” He said, zipping his jacket up over you. You watched him as he did so, noticing the way his chocolate eyes sparkled in the midst of the cloudy night.

 You swallowed, averting your gaze. “Thank you.”

 “You’re very welcome. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

 It was quiet then, but not in an uncomfortable way. You enjoyed sitting beside of him in the silence, watching the lights of campus below you, feeling the warmth from his jacket spread over your chilled skin.

 “Actually, Y/N, there’s something that’s been bothering me,” Beomgyu said, breaking the silence.

 You turned to face him, curious. “What is it?”

 For the first time since you had met him, Beomgyu looked nervous. He picked at the skin around his nails, doing everything he could to keep his eyes from meeting yours.

 “Remember how you asked me if I sang? When we were locked in the orchestra room?” His voice was a bit quieter than it had been before.

 “Yeah, you said you didn’t.”

 “Right. Well, that—that was a lie,” He blurted, seeming to regret his words the second they had left his mouth. “Well, not a blatant lie, because I don’t sing anymore. But I used to.”

 You were a bit confused, but seeing how nervous he was, you decided not to ask him why he would lie about such a seemingly trivial topic.

 “What made you stop?” You asked carefully, not wanting to upset him.

 He hesitated, wringing his hands together. After taking a deep breath, he spoke again.

 “My father and I used to sing together,” He began. “I taught myself how to play the guitar, but he was the one who taught me how to sing. He loved to sing, more than anything else, and he always told me that I had a brilliant voice. He said it would be a shame to keep such a voice to myself.”

 He smiled fondly as he spoke of his father, and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The joy slowly faded from his expression, however, as he began to speak again.

 “I lost him two years ago,” He said quietly, voice thick with emotions that caused your heart to clench. “He was in a bad car accident. I was doing really well here, in vocals and guitar. But when I lost him, I just . . . I couldn’t sing anymore. I tried, I really did. I just couldn’t do it.”

 “Oh, Beomgyu,” You whispered, gently placing your hand over his trembling one.

 “It’s pathetic, isn’t it?” He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Singing was the one thing he wanted me to do, and now that he’s gone, I’m failing at it.”

 “No, Beomgyu,” You said, your voice firm as you squeezed his hand. “It’s not pathetic at all. You’re doing the best you can, and you’re still here. And most importantly, you tried. That’s what matters.”

 He brought his eyes back to yours then, glistening with moisture in the moonless, starless night. He smiled at you then, and you smiled back.

 “Y/N.”

 “Hm?”

 “Have I told you yet that you’re really, really beautiful?”

 Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You were frozen for a moment before you scoffed, pulling your hand away from his and tucking it into your lap.

 “I thought you were going to start being more serious,” You mumbled, refusing to look at him. “Stop messing around.”

 Then, he moved closer to you, placing one arm behind you while he brought the other to rest against your cheek, gently turning your face towards his. He leaned in, so close that his breath brushed against your skin. He smelled of citrus and vanilla, and you found yourself leaning closer to him.

 He glanced at your lips, then met your eyes once again.

 “What makes you think I’m not being serious?”

 His lips were soft when they pressed against yours, and it felt as though your heart would burst right out of your chest. You allowed your eyes to fall shut as he gently moved his mouth against yours, slowly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he did so, before allowing his fingers to gently trace their way along your cheek, then your jaw, until he rested his hand against your neck, pulling you a tiny bit closer to him.

 He broke the kiss for a fleeting moment, just to open his eyes so he could look into yours. You liked the flecks of light that beamed in his irises, as though his eyes were made of starlight. He smiled, allowing his nose to brush against yours as his eyes moved back down to your lips. Once again, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his for the second time. He tasted like coffee and cheap cherry chap-stick—and odd combination, but you didn’t mind as you brought your arms around his neck and shifted closer to him, twisting your head to the side as you moved your lips in time with his.

 The moment was unexpected, to say the least. But perhaps that was what made it feel that much more magical.

 At least, it was magical until you felt scalding hot liquid splash all over the side of your leg, seeping through the fabric of your jeans to burn your skin.

 You gasped against Beomgyu’s lips before pulling away, staring wide eyed at your jeans that were now stained with coffee. Your cup, which had been sitting between the two of you, was now knocked on its side, the contents drained.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Beomgyu said frantically. His lips were shining from the aftermath of your kiss, his freckled cheeks and nose red as a cherry. He gently pressed his hands against your leg, pulling them back when you winced from the impact. “Oh god—I’m sorry, I forgot that it was there and I was leaning in and I knocked it over and—”

 You laughed at how flustered he had become, amused by this side of him that you hadn’t seen before. You grabbed his face and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips against his in a swift kiss, effectively shutting him up.

 “It’s okay, Beomgyu,” You said once you pulled away, letting your hands fall from his face. “I guess you just owe me another coffee.”

 The goofy lopsided grin you had grown accustomed to took place of the frightened expression he had worn just moments before. He hopped off the ledge, extending his hand towards you to help you down.

 “Come on, partner. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

 -

 IT WAS THE DAY OF THE OPEN HOUSE, AND YOU WERE SLIGHTLY UNNERVED BY HOW WELL THINGS WERE GOING.

 You had hoped that everything would go smoothly. The past few weeks, you had spent all your time and energy making sure that the event would be as close to perfect as possible.

 Well, you had also spent a bit of time with Beomgyu, but only when you had the time to spare, of course.

 The performers were all setting up; the drama department was working on setting up the stage props, as they would be going first, and they were busy rehearsing with the orchestra for how they could effectively move the props to make room for the instruments in a timely fashion. Yeonjun was rushing about, directing them with the grace and efficiency only he could pull off.

 Everything was going perfectly. You should have just been happy about that, but for some reason, it felt as though you were just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.

 “Y/N.” You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, smiling as he walked towards you. He was dressed in a white button up shirt that he tucked into a pair of black jeans. His sleeves were pushed up a bit, exposing his forearms.

 “Everything okay?” You asked once he had reached you. You glanced at the members of the band, who were talking in hushed voices right behind Beomgyu. Your eyes narrowed when you noticed that something was amiss. “Where’s Soobin? Is he on his way?”

 Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “That’s what I was coming to talk to you about. He’s sick—he won’t be able to make it. I just got a text from him.”

 You blinked slowly, trying to process what you had just been told. Soobin was the main vocalist for the band. Without him, or someone to fill his position, there would be no performance.

 You quickly walked over to the band, desperately trying to think of something to fix the situation, and Beomgyu was following right behind you.

 “Can any of you do lead vocals in Soobin’s place?” You asked.

 “No,” the main guitarist said, looking just as stressed out as you were. “We’d have to change the entire key for it to fit my range, and even if we had time to do that—which we don’t—we wouldn’t have any backup vocals.”

 You pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “There’s got to be something we can do to replace him. We can’t just take the band performance out.”

 “How about Beomgyu?”

 Your eyes flew open at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice, and you whirled around to see him standing behind you.

“When did you get there?” You asked.

 “A minute or so ago,” He said, striding forward so that he stood on the other side of you. “But seriously, everyone knows Beomgyu can sing. He used to do it all the time. Why not have him take Soobin’s place?”

 “It would make sense,” the guitarist said, his face lighting up with a glint of hope. “He’s been here for all the practices—I mean, he even wrote the song!”

 You turned your eyes towards Beomgyu, worry overtaking you in an instant when you saw his expression. All the color had drained from his face, his lips pulled between his teeth. His hands were trembling, and he refused to meet your gaze.

 “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, taking his shaky hand in your steady one. “You don’t have to. We can figure something else out—”

 “I’ll think about it,” He said, eyes finally finding yours. He did his best to force a smile, but it was so strained, your worry only grew at the sight. “Just . . . can you give me a little while?”

 You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Of course.”

 He slipped away from you then, disappearing behind the stage. Your eyes followed him until you couldn’t see him any longer, worry creasing your brows.

 “What was that about?” Yeonjun asked, stepping a bit closer to you. “I understand not wanting to force anyone to do something last minute, but we don’t really have many options.”

 “There’s more to it than that,” You said quietly. “Just trust me, okay? And if he says he can’t do it, he can’t. We are not going to force him to do this.”

 Yeonjun still looked confused, but he simply shrugged. “Whatever you say, captain. But just so you know, if he can’t do it, you’re gonna be the one singing in Soobin’s place. And trust me, no one wants to hear that.”

 You fought the urge to flip him off as he walked away, wondering why on earth you still kept him around as your best friend.

 The rest of the preparations went on, and soon, the audience had begun to fill the auditorium. You hadn’t seen Beomgyu since that moment during rehearsals, and you were beginning to grow worried.

 You stood in the right wing of the stage as the show began with the drama department. You tried to focus on the performance—it was amazing, of course, especially since Yeonjun played a lead role in the scene they had chosen. Everyone knew he was an amazing actor. However, rather than being able to enjoy the show, you could only think about where Beomgyu was and wonder if he was doing alright, your stomach twisting itself into knots as the seconds ticked by.

 By the time the drama students were finished, the audience standing to clap for their flawless performance, you had bitten your nails down to nubs as you grew increasingly worried. Yeonjun rushed over to you when he left the stage, smiling widely as he stretched his arms out to his sides. “How’d we do?”

 “Hm?” You snapped out of your daze, shaking your head as you gave him two thumbs up. “Oh—wonderful. You guys were great. Hey, will you make sure everything goes well with the orchestra? I have to go find Beomgyu.”

 “Well why don’t you stay here and I’ll go find him—”

 “Nope, I’ve got it! Thanks best friend, you’re the greatest!” You gave him a quick hug before he could say anything else, quickly rushing out of the auditorium. You made your way down a few hallways, taking a couple of turns until you had reached one of the dressing rooms. You knew this was where Beomgyu had been getting ready because his guitar case was propped against the wall outside of it, so you hoped he was still inside.

 You knocked on the door. “Beomgyu? Are you in there?”

 It was silent, but you heard someone sniffle from behind the door. You sighed, leaning against the wood. “You don’t have to say anything, okay? But just hear me out.”

 There was no response, but you could have sworn you felt someone leaning against the door from the other side.

 “I know you may feel like you have to pressure yourself to do this, but you don’t,” You said gently. “Nobody is going to be disappointed if you can’t get up there to sing. Not me, not Yeonjun, not the band.”

 You paused, biting your lip before you continued. “Your father wouldn’t be upset either, Beomgyu. The fact that you’re willing to even think about doing something this hard just to help out shows just how great of a person you are. He would be so, so proud of you. I’m proud of you, too. Whether or not you get up there and sing tonight, I’m proud of you. Okay?”

 You stayed there, waiting in silence for a moment longer before you pushed away from the door, walking back towards the auditorium.

 The orchestra was almost finished with their set by the time you returned to the wing. Yeonjun and the band were waiting with anticipation when you returned, eyes wide and searching behind you, probably hoping that Beomgyu was close behind.

 “Is he coming?” Yeonjun asked.

 You sighed, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t think so. We’ll just have to call off the band’s performance, but it’ll be okay—”

 “That won’t be necessary.”

 You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, unable to help the big smile that overtook your face. You hurried towards him, grabbing both his hands in your own.

 “Are you sure?” You asked. “You know you don’t have to—”

 “I know I don’t,” he said with a smile. “But I want to.”

 He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead. “Thank you. For everything.”

 He went up to talk to the band after that, leaving you a blushing mess. The orchestra had just finished their set and were busy making way for the band. Yeonjun walked to your side as Beomgyu and the rest of the band took their places on the stage.

 “Did he just kiss you?” Your best friend asked. For some reason, he didn’t sound surprised.

 Dumbfounded, you brought your hand to your forehead and nodded, unable to speak. Yeonjun laughed at you, causing you to snap out of your daze so you could punch him lightly in the shoulder.

 Once the band had finished getting ready, Beomgyu cleared his throat, tapping the mic before leaning forward to speak into it.

 “Hello everyone, thanks for coming out tonight. My name is Choi Beomgyu, and these lovely people surrounding me are some of the many talented musicians in our music department.” He paused when the audience clapped, waiting until the applause died down before he spoke again. “To wrap up this showcase, we’ll be performing a song I wrote myself. I wrote this about someone I met a long, long time ago.”

 He turned his head to the side then, making eye contact with you from the stage. He smiled, not taking his gaze away from yours. He looked heavenly in the light cast from the spotlight, strands of his black hair seeming to turn silver beneath the glow, his golden skin shining brighter than ever. You were sure that if you were close enough, you would see the star-like sparkles in his eyes that you had grown to adore.

 “I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

 “Is he talking about you?” Yeonjun whispered into your ear, noticing the direction of Beomgyu’s stare. “You guys just met like, a month ago.”

 You were just as confused as your best friend, so in response, you simply shrugged, unsure of what was going on. He was definitely talking to you, but you had no idea what he was referring to.

 “I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

 You racked your brain, trying desperately to think of what he could mean. Had you met him before? Did he remember you from somewhere, from a memory that had somehow slipped your mind?

 The music began to play, and you took a step closer to the stage, eyes narrowed, ready to focus on the lyrics, wanting more than anything to remember what Beomgyu was talking about.

 “In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

 Your eyes went wide. You stumbled back, reaching up to hold your head in your hands.

 “Y/N?” Yeonjun’s voice was distant, overpowered by the sound of the honey sweet voice that filled the air. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

 You gasped, hands tangling in your hair as the singing continued.

 “Be my forever, call my name. Run away, run away, run away with me.”

 Your head was ringing. Not only were these words the same ones you had heard in your head the night you were locked in the classroom with Beomgyu, but the voice—Beomgyu’s voice—was the same one you had heard day and night while growing up.

 It was your soulmates voice.

 You knew it was, not just because of the lyrics or the familiarity of the voice. You knew it was your soulmate because you didn’t just hear the words and the notes of the song, you felt them. Every inch of your being felt as though it had been struck by lightning. The voice filled up all of your senses, overpowering you in the most beautiful way imaginable.

 But it was too much. His voice coming through the loudspeakers paired with it ringing inside your head built up so much pressure that it caused your vision to blur. You quickly stumbled out of the auditorium, fumbling your way through the front doors that led outside.

 You sat down on the pavement, taking deep breaths as your mind began to calm down. No longer overwhelmed by all that was going on around you, you closed your eyes, listening to Beomgyu’s voice as it filled your mind.

 “Don’t wanna stay, now we can go. Take me now to the magic named ‘us.’”

 With those words, the voice died down, and you were surrounded by silence.

 You simply sat there for several moments, your eyes remaining closed as you tried to understand everything that had just happened to you.

 Beomgyu was your soulmate.

 Beomgyu was your soulmate, and he was alive.

 Bit by bit, you started to piece things together. The night of your thirteenth birthday, the day before you heard his voice for the first time. You had met the boy with sparkling eyes and a lopsided grin in the hotel parking lot. He had offered you his coat, and then his hand.

 “I hope she remembers me,” Beomgyu had said.

 You smiled to yourself, placing your hand over your heart as it beat fiercely against your chest.

 “Yes, Beomgyu. I do remember you.”

 “Y/N!”

 Your eyes flew open at the sound of the door being thrown open behind you. You turned to see Beomgyu barreling towards you, practically collapsing to the ground in front of you. He took your face in his hands, eyes frantically searching yours.

 “Are you okay?” He asked, his fingers gently running along the length of your cheeks.

 You nodded, smiling even though tears began to pool in your eyes. “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, lifting your hands to hold his wrists. “You knew, didn’t you?”

 “Knew what?”

 “That you’re my soulmate.”

 He paused, the worry in his face slowly being replaced by a wide, sparkling smile.

 “So you finally figured it out, huh?” He said, brushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear. “If you didn’t figure it out after tonight, I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to show you.”

 You laughed, a tear slipping down your cheek as you tightened your grip on his wrists. His expression changed once again, brows knit with concern. “Are—are you crying? What’s wrong?”

 “No, nothing, it’s fine,” You assured him, resting your forehead against his. “I’m just happy. I’m so, so happy, Beomgyu.”

 He sighed with relief, wrapping his arms around you in a hug, pulling you snugly into his chest. His chin rested on top of your head as you slipped your arms around his middle, pulling him even closer than he already was.

 “I was a little worried that you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me,” He said with a light laugh.

 You shook your head against his chest, snuggling even closer to him. “Of course not. You’re exactly who I hoped it would be, Choi Beomgyu.”

 The two of you stayed like that for a bit longer before Beomgyu pulled away and stood up in front of you.

 The boy with stars for eyes and a smile that outshone the moon stretched his hand out towards you, fingers shaking from the cold, cheeks flushed from your embrace.

 “Should we run away?” He asked.

 This time, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet.