#I was also still trying to come up with an idea that would convey my feelings

[amamamumumumu]

This has been a most worthwhile evening 🍽

[cleo-fox]

Surrender

Summary: Finding your soulmate is supposed to be a romantic, life changing experience.

No one tells you what to do when a). your soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of your planet and made himself king and b). you kind of still want him anyway.

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering.

A/N: look, I was intrigued by the idea of a Loki Wins AU and also a soulmate AU and this just sort of happened. I may write more of this concept because it gave me IDEAS. This is also available on AO3.

The mark on your wrist begins to burn the minute he walks into the room.

At first you think it’s a coincidence or a mistake—there are guards walking with him, perhaps it’s one of them. But then he flinches, his right hand going to his left wrist and your heart sinks to your knees. It could still be a coincidence, you tell yourself halfheartedly.

He scans the room and when his eyes land on you, it’s like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place and you know.

He’s much taller than you thought he was—that’s the only conscious and coherent thought you manage to have as he approaches you. Being the subject of his gaze is overwhelming in a way that you sort of expect, but it still makes you want to sit down and close your eyes. He looks you over, his gaze lingering briefly on your nametag from work.

“Show me your wrist,” he says.

You don’t think he’s using his powers, but you comply automatically, extending your arm toward him, wrist turned up. There’s a frisson of electricity that buzzes along the back of your hand when he touches it—if there were any remaining doubts about who he is and his relationship to you, that feeling surely puts them to rest. You know that he must have felt something too from the way he looks at you sharply, as though he thinks you’ve done something intentional to cause this. You can only hope that your wide eyed bewilderment convincingly conveys your innocence.

His expression betrays nothing as he examines the mark on your wrist, which is now glowing a bright gold that would be pretty if the circumstances were different.

It’s funny, you think. You’ve been waiting for this moment your entire life and all you can think is that you wish it wasn’t happening.

He releases your hand and looks at you in a calculating sort of way. “Come with me,” he says finally.

You do, of course. What other choice do you have?

*

The next several hours are a blur.

You are shuffled from place to place. Usually there is at least one guard—you’re not sure why. The idea of you being able to do any damage to him is laughable and escape doesn’t exactly seem like an option. Where could you go that he could not find you?

It’s a depressing thought; you try not to think much about it.

You know exactly when the news breaks because it coincides with your phone basically becoming unusable due to the flood of notifications, calls, and texts. You put it on airplane mode to compose a short message to your family and friends. Your reassurances feel a little trite given the circumstances: I’m fine, I’ll call when I can.

You can’t exactly type what you’re really thinking, which is more along the lines of I’ve just learned that my soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of our planet. I’m doing about as well as you’d expect.

You turn airplane mode off long enough to send the email. Once it sends, you power down your phone. It doesn’t seem prudent to leave it on, at least not right now—right now, it only serves as a reminder of a life you know you’re going to have to leave behind and you’re not at all ready to confront that particular loss.

They eventually take you to what you assume are his rooms. You’re surprised by how traditional the decor is—you had expected a cold sort of minimalism, but there’s more wood and warm colors than you would have thought. You are informed that there are clothes for you in the closet; you nod and say nothing, though you wonder how they managed to pull an entire wardrobe together in the span of only a few hours. Magic, perhaps.

You are finally left alone, though you’re fairly certain that you would find guards stationed outside if you were to look.

You take one of the elegant velvet throws from the bed and wrap it tightly around yourself before settling on the couch next to the window. You’re not exactly cold, but it feels like a necessary armor between you and this unfamiliar place.

You stare out the window for a long time. You’re too high up to people watch and you’re not sure that you could handle that anyway—it would be yet another reminder of the fact that your life has changed in a massive, earth shaking way that you can’t even begin to understand. Instead, you stare at the tiny cars on the city streets below, snaking their way to destinations that feel so far out of your grasp that they might as well be on a different planet altogether.

*

It’s late when he finally shows up—so late that you’ve actually gotten ready for bed, donning one of the silk nightgowns that had been left for you. You can tell it’s more expensive than any sleepwear you’ve ever owned in your life. You’re just glad that it’s modest—you had half expected to find that all your pajamas were bustiers, thongs, and thigh highs in some sort of ill considered attempt to seduce you. But this is elegant and understated, with a matching robe that you cinch tightly around your waist.

You sit on the couch, the throw still wrapped snugly around you. He looks at you, the corner of his mouth curled up in a slight smirk.

“I hope you don’t intend to stay there the entire night,” he says.

“I hardly know you,” you say before you can even contemplate whether it’s wise.

He looks…amused isn’t quite the right word, but there’s a subtle tilt to the corner of his lips—not quite a smile, but maybe somewhere in the vicinity.

“Give it time,” he says, and something about that makes you shiver.

*

You intend to sleep on the couch, at least for these first few nights when everything still feels so raw and strange.

Or that was your plan, anyway.

Loki doesn’t say anything else as he prepares for bed and you stare resolutely at the window so as not to invite any more conversation or prompt any invitations to join him in bed. Eventually, the lights go out and you are left alone with your thoughts in the dark.

The room is much colder at night.

You’re not sure if it’s on purpose, though you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Perhaps he likes it like this. Perhaps it’s to lure you to him, to tempt you into seeking out the warmth of his bed and body.

You pull the blanket more tightly around your shoulders. Eventually, you allow your eyes to drift shut.

You wake some time later in the middle of the night. The room feels even colder, the velvet of the throw and the silk of your nightgown and robe a scanty defense against the chill. You burrow against the couch cushions and it’s sort of bearable.

But you also have to pee.

You hold off for as long as you can, but you eventually summon the will to leave the couch and seek out the bathroom.

The bathroom is even colder—perhaps it’s all that glass and marble that makes the difference. You’re wearing your robe and you’ve still got the blanket wrapped around you, but your teeth are chattering by the time you wash your hands. You run the water as hot as you can stand, but it only does so much. If you were braver—if it wasn’t your first night here, you would run an extra hot shower and stay under the spray until your fingers and toes pruned and the chill was chased from your bones.

Instead, you hustle back to the couch, burrowing against the cushions, throw and robe wrapped tightly around you. But you still can’t seem to shake the cold. You huddle on the couch, shivering, trying to calm your body.

Time passes and you don’t grow any warmer. You wonder if you can steal another throw from the bed—surely he won’t miss one—when a voice speaks from the darkness.

“Come to bed,” Loki says.

You clear your throat. “What?”

“I can hear your teeth chattering from here. Come to bed and stop being absurd.”

You hesitate, staring into the dark. You consider the cold, the slight kink in your neck from the way you’ve been sleeping on the couch, the late hour, the way that sleep pulls at your eyes. A bed is appealing. Maybe more appealing than it should be.

You find yourself getting to your feet and slowly making your way across the room.

You pause on the other side of the bed—your side, you suppose, though calling it that still feels too intimate. You can just make him out in the dark.

“You’ll stay on your side,” you say, like making it a statement will make it so.

“Well, you hardly know me.” His voice is clipped, more bitter than you expect as he echoes your words from earlier.

You can’t help but scowl. “I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours and it’s the middle of the night. I’m not doing this right now.”

He laughs. It’s sharp and brittle and unexpected, but it’s a laugh all the same, and something about that helps, if only a little.

You don’t say anything else as you climb into bed. You find that the blankets are warm—warmer than you expect—and heavy. There’s a part of you that expects yourself to be too nervous and on edge to fully relax, but the coziness of the blankets piled around you is oddly calming, even with Loki mere inches away. You hunker down underneath the blankets, situating yourself on the pillows.

He doesn’t say anything and it’s not long until his breathing becomes steady and even.

And after a while, yours does, too.

*

Consciousness creeps up on you slowly the next morning, a far cry from the jarring alarm on your phone that usually disrupts your slumber. You are warm and cozy, cocooned in the blankets, safe from all of the bullshit that had happened yesterday.

It’s such a peaceful, easy awakening that it takes you a moment to realize that you aren’t alone.

It takes another moment for you to realize that your cheek is pressed against Loki’s chest. And to make matters worse, not only are your arms wrapped around his him, your right leg is also flung across his waist, like you can’t bear to be parted from him for even a moment.

But before the panic sets in, there is a barely perceptible moment where your body just enjoys the feeling of being pressed against him. It’s quick and you’d deny it if asked, but the rush that you get from giving into the pull of your soulbond for even that brief moment is nothing short of incredible.

But it’s just a moment and your mind quickly turns to the matter of extracting yourself without drawing his notice. Ideally, he’ll just stay asleep and you won’t have to deal with any awkward fallout. If you move very slowly and carefully, perhaps he won’t notice.

You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.

“To be clear, you’re on my side of the bed,” he says.

God fucking dammit.

You abandon all subtlety and quickly peel yourself away from him.

“I must have rolled over in my sleep,” you say, incredibly conscious of how stupid that sounds.

He smirks, which is somehow worse than if he’d said anything.

“It won’t happen again,” you say.

It does.

This is your new routine: you start every evening on the couch, wrapped up in your robe and throw. You wake some time in the night, teeth chattering. Sometimes, Loki will tell you to come to bed. Other times, you quietly give up and slip under the covers on your side of the bed.

But every morning without fail, you wake tangled around him.

Sometimes, he’s spooned up behind you; more often, though, you’re the one clinging to him. It’s as though your body has a homing device that leads you over to his side of the bed in your sleep, dutifully ignoring all of your stern warnings about who stays where.

The worst part of it is that you’re fighting your own instincts. On a very basic, physical level, you yearn to be close to him. There’s a part of you that revels in these unintentional moments of closeness, that wants to allow yourself to enjoy the feeling of him, to allow him to put his hands on your body, for you to put your hands on him.

The fact that he wakes up noticeably hard most mornings does not make this any easier.

This is a problem that you’re not entirely sure how to solve and the second week in, your desire for information finally outweighs your desire to avoid social media and the deluge of emails and texts that you know are waiting for you on your phone.

You turn your phone back on and immediately delete all of your social media apps. You don’t know what they’re saying about you and you don’t care to. You turn off all of your notifications, even the little number icons that show you how many unread emails and texts that you have. You want absolutely no distractions.

You open a private browser window and pull up Google.

Newly connected soulbonds are the hormonal equivalent of pouring out a bunch of gasoline and striking a match. Soulbonds are intended to be consummated. You know this. There are people who wait it out for one reason or another, but that’s very much the exception—it’s a physical and emotional test of endurance. And you’re beginning to understand why.

The internet is not very helpful. You already know what happens when you don’t consummate a soulbond promptly—increased arousal, restlessness, vivid dreams, and so on as time goes on. You’re more interested in mitigation. You find a few blogs that have entirely irrelevant suggestions like cuddling on the couch or holding hands. “While you’re waiting for intercourse, why not try some outercourse?” one post muses with a level of earnestness that causes you to immediately turn off your phone and fling it across the room.

You’re going to have sex with him at some point. That’s inevitable. On a very basic level, you want him—it’s more or less coded into your DNA. But that is at odds with the reality of who he is and what he’s done. It might feel good to wake up tangled around him, but it only takes a minute to remember the battle of New York and it nearly extinguishes the desire burning within you.

But only nearly and only for now.

*

The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.

Loki seems content to wait things out. You can feel the burn of his gaze on you, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t prod.

You, on the other hand, find yourself slipping into a heightened state of arousal that is becoming impossible to ignore. Midway through the week, you finally give in and try touching yourself in the shower in the hope of some relief and you come so quickly and so hard that you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out and your legs very nearly buckle from the force of it. A few twitches of your fingers has you sprawled on the shower floor and coming again, harder than before. You repeat this trick a few times but even as strong as it is, it doesn’t really help—you’re back to where you started within minutes.

Worse though, is the fact that it’s his face that you see when you come. Every. Single. Time. You imagine him over you, his gaze dark and intent as he watches you come; slack jawed and hissing in pleasure as he pushes into you; growling in approval and impatience as you take his cock into your mouth. The images come entirely unbidden and stick in the forefront of your thoughts like a burr clinging to wool.

When you see him later that afternoon, his gaze lands on you in such a way that it feels like he knows everything you’ve done and everything you’ve seen, from that moment in the shower to the shameful thoughts you had as you came.

The dreams start shortly after, and they are objectively worse.

The dreams are far more vivid than just images. In the dreams, he’s touching you, coaxing you to peaks you could never have imagined, pressing into you, taking you hard and fast and achingly slow and everything in between. The dreams leave you out of breath and shaky, aching for a touch that you know that you should not want, but do with every fiber of your being. By some miracle, they only seem to occur while you are on the couch and not when you’re in bed, but that luck won’t hold forever.

Perhaps more importantly, you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in. Deep down, you’ve known this from the moment the mark on your wrist started to burn. Your resistance is eroding like a sandcastle at high tide and it’s only a matter of time before you crumble.

But not yet. Not yet.

*

Five weeks after your arrival, you wake sweating and out of breath from another dream.

You take a few deep breaths. It was similar to the ones you’d had before. Thinking about the details makes your core ache and your clit throb so you try to keep them out of your mind.

You’re half surprised that you’re not tangled around Loki, given the content and subject of your dream, but that makes sense when you realize he’s not in bed. Instead, he sits on the couch, staring into the middle distance. Perhaps he is struggling with the same kinds of dreams.

The idea of you making Loki too hot and bothered to sleep is more appealing than you’d like to admit. You hastily dismiss the thought before it can bring any more heat to your already too warm skin or add more fuel to the flickering desire that seems to have settled permanently in the cradle of your hips.

You slip out of bed and go to the window, folding your arms across your stomach as you stare out at the sleeping city.

“You were calling out in your sleep.”

More heat prickles at your skin.

“Hm,” you say, trying your best to sound casual.

“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.

He’s only asking because he already knows the answer. You know this. But the lie still slips from your lips: “I don’t remember.”

He laughs, a quiet and dangerous sound that stokes the fire in your belly. “Have you forgotten, darling, that I am the god of lies?”

You can hear him walking toward you, but you keep your back turned. Has the room always been this warm?

He waits until he is directly behind you to speak again. “Will you lie again when I ask if you were dreaming of me?” His voice is so close, full of depth and a little husky. 

“You flatter yourself,” you say.

You can hear the smirk in his voice, feel the whisper of his breath on your neck. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” He pauses for a moment. “But you were calling out for me.”

Your lips are dry. You want to deny it, but it feels useless. Worst case scenario, he’s still mostly right: you were dreaming of him and you can’t even really deny crying out for him because you were asleep and you don’t know for sure.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he continues. His voice drops. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He pauses. “Or I see myself between your legs, worshiping you with my mouth, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”

Your heart is pounding and every nerve in your body feels as though it’s connected directly to your clit. You are warm—too warm—and you can feel your pulse pounding in your throat.

“What were you dreaming of?” he continues, his voice barely a murmur.

“Nothing,” you say.

He clicks his tongue. “Try again, darling.”

You say nothing and after a moment of silence, he seems to decide that it’s time to switch strategies.

“You must be so wet,” he murmurs, his tone low and soothing.

Your stomach and your cunt clench. If he starts talking dirty to you, it’s over.

“We’re not meant to go this long like this,” he says. “We both know that. It’s been five weeks. Your poor cunt is probably aching for me, just as I ache for you.”

Your breath is coming in shaky gasps. You need him. You can feel your resolve starting to slip.

“Yield to me.” His voice is rough with wanting, like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, darling, let me ease that ache. Yield and I will give you everything.”

You draw in a shaking breath and slowly turn to face him. He’s looking at you with an intensity that you expect, but it takes your breath away nonetheless.

The remnants of your resistance are lost to the wave of him and the only thing that’s left in its place is a raw need like you’ve never experienced before.

You don’t know what to say, so in the end, you settle for his name. Just his name, said quietly with all the desperation and longing that has been making your life hell these past few weeks.

You get a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before he’s on you.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of each other for too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. You end up pressed against the wall next to the window, your leg wrapped around his waist, his hand supporting your thigh. He presses his hips against you and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hard cock dragging against your swollen, sensitive clit. He draws back slightly to look at your face as he slowly grinds his hips against yours, his free hand moving to palm your breast over the silk of your nightgown.

You moan again, your head dropping back against the wall. The soft, slippery friction of the silk of your nightgown against your nipple and the soaked lace of your underwear rubbing against your clit is enough to make you go cross eyed, a slow tease that only fans the burning embers within you. Your body is overheated and too tense, but Loki is blessedly cool in a way that somehow both soothes and inflames.

“You’re drenched. I can already feel that,” he says, his voice thick with desire as he moves against you. “I could make you come like this.”

You whimper, rocking your hips back against him. “Please.”

He shakes his head. “Another time. Tonight I want to feel you when you come.” He drops his hand from your breast, trailing down your stomach and moving in between your legs. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, and you let out a needy whine as he strokes the slick folds of your sex. “Is this all for me?” he asks, his voice slipping into a low growl.

You barely manage a breathy affirmative.

“Sweet thing.” His thumb rolls over your clit as he slides one finger into you, and your back arches automatically, your breasts jutting out. “We’re going to have to do something about this, aren’t we?”

“Please,” you breathe.

“How can I resist such a sweet plea?” he says, sliding another finger into you and curling it just so. “Or such a wet and needy cunt?”

“Don’t stop,” you say.

“I ought to make you beg me for it after everything you put me through.” His eyes darken as his thumb presses against your clit and you moan. “But perhaps I can be generous. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”

You nod, slack jawed and panting.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”

You whimper, your hips rocking.

“Say it,” he says, stroking your clit.

“I need to come,” you moan.

“A good start,” he says, his voice a stern purr. “But not quite what I asked, my love. Try again.”

A twinge of irritation manages to work its way to the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly in a state to be playing twenty questions.”

His eyes light up with a predatory gleam that heralds the arrival of something that you know will end enjoyably for you.

“Oh, darling, that attitude won’t do at all.” His fingers are immediately and conspicuously absent and you very nearly cry out in frustration. But before you can, he is sweeping you into his arms and making the journey to the bed in several long strides. He sets you gently on the bed and looms over you, green eyes flashing as his hands stroke up your thighs. You lift your hips and he pulls your underwear off, tossing it to the side.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” His voice is a growl. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need to come.” You know it’s the wrong answer, but this particular game of cat and mouse and the predatory gleam in Loki’s eyes are making you even wetter and god, you need him.

His eyes flash with a barely concealed delight. “Try again.”

You spread your legs rather conspicuously, hiking your nightgown up to your waist. “I need to come.”

He’s looking at you intently, lips slightly parted. “You’re trying to distract me with that pretty cunt, you wicked thing.”

“Is it working?” you ask.

He lowers his head to kiss the inside of your left knee. “It would work much better if you answered me properly and told me everything you need.”

You think you have an idea of what he wants to hear, but you’re not quite ready to give up the game yet. Instead, you pull your nightgown up and over your head and toss it to the side. His eyes are dark as he looks at you, his gaze lingering on your breasts and trailing down to the apex of your spread legs. You wonder what it would take to make him lose control, to take you in the way that you both need.The thought sends another flood of heat to your aching core. 

You lick your lips. “Will you make me come, Loki?”

Another wolfish grin. “Closer. But not quite. Try again.”

You let your hand slide down your stomach and between your legs and you part your sopping folds so he can see the full extent of what he’s done to you—every dripping inch. The look he’s giving you now only heightens the feeling.

“Should I make myself come?” you ask and you’re immediately rewarded with an almost feral look and a sharp smack to your ass.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls.

You put on your most innocent expression, even as his visible hunger makes you ache. “I thought you’d like seeing me touch myself.”

“Oh, there will be time for that later,” he says, his eyes still dark. “I’m particularly interested in seeing what prompted those intriguing little noises I kept hearing while you were in the shower. But every tremor of pleasure that wracks your body tonight will be from me alone. Now,” his eyes glitter and his hand replaces yours on your cunt, his long fingers spreading you open, but not touching you, his expression rapt with undisguised greed, “tell me what you need.”

Your capacity to tease and resist him was well and truly exceeded when he smacked your ass and was further obliterated by the monologue he just delivered. “I need you to make me come, Loki. I need you so bad.”

His smile is filled with dark promises and a hunger that you have every interest in sating several times over.

“Good girl,” he says.

And his fingers slide back into you as his mouth envelopes your aching clit.

You moan as your hips lift and your hands tangle in his hair. He mumbles something that sounds like “perfect” against your clit, first teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers have found that soft, aching spot inside of you and he presses against it in slow, firm thrusts that make you tremble.

You initially think that you’ll be quite quick to come because you’re already so wound up, but Loki seems determined to find the edge and keep you there for as long as possible—and he’s really, really good at it. He falls into a rhythm where his tongue strokes your clit once, twice, three times and withdraws; his fingers pick up the thread, stroking your walls once, twice, three times and withdrawing, only for his tongue to resume where he left off. In this way, he keeps you balanced on the edge in a perfect kind of torture. It feels so good, but it’s not quite enough to get you there just yet.

You make liberal use of his name—it’s a plea, a curse, a benediction, a moan, a sigh. Instinctively, you know that he likes this, but it’s not enough to distract him into letting you fall even a moment before he wants you to.

The ache that’s been building in your hips for the last couple weeks is growing, burning bright and warm. Your body feels electric in the best way, your nerves humming and buzzing and straining for release.

“Loki,” you moan, partly as encouragement and partly because you want him so badly.

You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release.

So close.

“Loki, please,” you moan, truly desperate now. “Please let me come. Make me yours—”

You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or pure coincidence, but in that moment, he shifts his rhythm so that his mouth and fingers are no longer alternating, but are instead moving in sync. And this is what you need to tip you over, to allow that wave to finally, finally crest and then break.

Your orgasm hits you hard, pulling a loud moan from deep within your chest and making your entire body quake. Sparklers are dancing along your veins, champagne bubbles fizzing along your muscles, stars bursting behind your eyes. You have never felt anything like this before—you are satisfied but also aching for more, falling apart and being remade over and over again.

It’s only when you’re decidedly in the blissful wave of the aftershocks that he dares to lift his head and he looks you over like you’re something wonderful. Before you can raise your hands to reach for him, he’s crawling up to you, claiming your mouth in a kiss that feels deeper than the ocean.

He slides his hand in between your legs and you whimper, shivering at the sensation of his thumb stroking your sensitive clit. But somehow, he finds that particular angle and pressure that’s just enough, but not too much. You moan and he slides a finger back into you, rolling in the same rhythm as his thumb on your clit.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Keep going for me, darling. I want to watch you come this time.” His voice is so firm and authoritative and it strikes sparks up and down your spine.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips rocking with his hand.

“You’re doing so well getting ready for me,” he purrs. He lowers his voice to a rough growl. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over my cock like the wicked, filthy girl that you are.”

It’s the combination of his words and his voice and his perfect hands that does it this time. A rolling, fluttering shudder fizzes through your body, building to a peak that has you letting out a guttural moan as you clench around his thrusting fingers.

“Yes, that’s it,” Loki says as he watches you through hooded eyes. “You are gorgeous when you come undone.”

He kisses you slowly, fingers moving steadily until the final shudder rolls through you.

Somehow, through all of this, he’s remained fully clothed. There’s an aspect to this that’s appealing—it makes everything feel particularly decadent and a little forbidden—but your palms are practically itching with your need to touch him. You need him inside you, but you also need him close, bare skin on bare skin.

Your hands sneak under his shirt and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel the heat of his skin underneath your palms. You tug his shirt off him and make quick work of his pants before drawing back to look at him.

He looks like art. It’s a silly thought, but there’s some truth to it—there’s an almost ethereal quality in the sharp angles of his face and the elegant symmetry of his musculature. 

Your gaze drifts down to his cock. He’s long, thick, and hard, the tip flushed and slick with pre-come. An ache courses through you—something about seeing the full evidence of his arousal makes everything seem more real, makes you want him with renewed ferocity.

You want to touch him and so you do, your fingers curling around his shaft.

“Can you feel how much I need you?” he asks as you stroke him slowly. He is remarkably composed, though you catch the slight hitch in his breath and it sends a thrill through you.

“Will you show me?” you ask.

“Every day,” he says.

It’s an answer you’re not expecting. You were speaking strictly in the immediate, physical sense. This feels deeper, more meaningful. You’re not quite sure what to say, so you kiss him and he kisses you back with an intensity and thoroughness that makes your toes curl.

He rolls over you, his body covering yours. It’s almost overwhelming how good his bare skin feels against yours. You take his cock in your hand again and stroke him, slowly rubbing the tip from your clit to your entrance, coating him in your slick.

You expect him to just push forward when you guide him to your entrance and you’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t—you’ve both waited so long for this and your need for him is burning inside you like an inferno.

But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.

“Will you have me?” he asks. There’s vulnerability in the question, a softness in his green eyes that you don’t expect. It feels like a loaded question, though not necessarily in a bad way.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathe.

Something like relief flashes briefly in his eyes before he leans in and kisses you. You tilt your hips up again and this time, you feel the blunt head of his cock slowly press into your waiting warmth.

You’d read people describing first times with their soulmates and it had always sounded so hyperbolic and silly. They’d throw around words like euphoric and transcendent and all you could do was try not to roll your eyes.

But the moment Loki is fully seated inside you, you finally get it. Every overwrought, overused cliché seems to occur to you all at once—puzzle pieces falling into place and locks and keys and halves made whole and all that bullshit—and it all makes sense in a way that it hadn’t before.

Loki’s eyes are stormy above you, to the point that you think you may have angered him, but then he kisses you with a ferocity and possessiveness that steals your breath and makes you tighten around him.

“Mine,” he growls against your lips. “Mine.”

There’s a lot of emotion in that word. There’s history in that word. It’s the sort of thing that the two of you will probably need to unpack later. For now, though, you wrap your legs around him and meet his demanding, hungry kisses with your own.

“I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips. “Take me.”

You expect him to respond to that plea with a frantic pace. But instead, his first thrusts are slow, like he’s savoring it. Your body yields to him instinctively, your muscles drawing him in and then tightening further as he withdraws. You are so slick, so ready for him that it almost feels a little obscene.

“You are exquisite,” he rasps as he sinks into you, his head bowing to kiss and nip at your neck. “I have been aching for you.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

You’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for—more of this, more of him—but he seems to know anyway. He kisses you deeply as you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips up to meet his.

In one fluid motion, he rolls you over so that you are on top. He looks up at you, an irrepressible smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

“Go on,” he says, his voice low. “I want to see you take your pleasure from me. Claim your throne, my love.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. This is a man who single-handedly conquered the entire planet and he’s telling you he wants you to ride his cock until you come. It is raw and sexy and undeniably hot and the way he’s looking up at you makes you feel beautiful and powerful.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on the mattress, tilting your pelvis until you find the right angle, the one that makes your stomach tighten and your breath stutter. 

A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Right there?”

You let out a shaky breath and rock your hips. “Yeah.”

It takes a moment for you to find your rhythm, but you find that you want—or perhaps need—to go slow and steady. Loki watches you, his hips rocking with yours as he lets you set the pace, his hands sliding from your hips to your breasts and back again, like he can’t get enough. His gaze is intent and intense and you get the sense that he’s cataloging every movement, every gasp or sigh, furrowed brow or bitten lip.

The coil in your hips is starting to wind tighter and you know it won’t be long. 

As though he knows, Loki slides a hand down your body, palm gently pressing against your lower stomach. A fantastic pressure begins to blossom in your hips and you whimper.

“You’re doing so well,” he purrs. “So tight and wet. You’re perfect.”

“Getting close,” you breathe.

“I know, I can feel you,” he says.

You’re at a point somewhere beyond words, riding that wave, chasing bliss that you can almost feel. A choked whimper falls from your lips.

“That’s it,” rasps Loki. “Be a good girl and come on my cock.” He flicks his thumb against your clit and you completely unravel.

It was good the first two times, but having him inside you as you come sends you to another plane of existence entirely. Your orgasm seems extended, the feeling of his cock against the spasming muscles of your cunt creating more even rippling pleasure. And the noise that he makes, the filthy praise that falls from his lips, the way that his fingertips dig into your hips just makes it all better.

He rolls you over onto your back just as you’re starting to feel boneless, and pulls you into a deep kiss.  He thrusts into you, a little faster than the pace you had set, but still slow and steady.

“I want to feel you come again,” he breathes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this, how good you feel?”

You shudder as his cock drags again against that spot inside you. He repeats the motion and you keen, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“That’s it,” he rasps, bringing your leg up over his hip to press even more deeply inside of you. “Come on, darling. Let me feel you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his hungry, demanding kiss with your own. You roll your hips with his, chasing the flickers of bliss that he’s steadily stoking to an inferno once more.

“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “Need you. Please.”

He groans and increases his pace just enough to make you whimper. The desire inside of you is catching fire.

“I…fuck, I—” Your hands are gripping his shoulders, your body shaking as you approach your end.

Loki’s eyes are wild, his teeth bared. You can tell that he’s close, that he’s chasing the same incredible feeling that you are.

“I want you to come for me,” he grits out. “And the second I feel your tight cunt start to tremble around me, I’m going to come inside you.

You moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders. You are unbearably close.

“Do you want that, darling?” he says. “Do you want me to come inside you? Do you want your perfect cunt filled with my seed?”

You are almost beyond words, but not quite: “Yes. Please.”

Despite how close he is, he still gives the impression of being entirely in control. He lowers his head so that his lips graze yours and his eyes are all that you can see. “Then come for me,” he says.

Two more deadly smooth rolls of his hips and you do. A guttural, plaintive sound falls from your lips as your whole body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your cunt squeezing around the girth of his cock. He groans, mumbling something in a language you don’t recognize before he, too, starts to unravel.

His face is rapturous when he comes, his head tipping back and his mouth falling open, brow furrowing. If you weren’t so distracted with the rippling shocks of your own pleasure, you would try to commit it to memory. Instead, you simply try to enjoy the feeling of him emptying himself inside of you, the stuttering thrust of his hips, the soft groan that falls from his lips. Finally he stills, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his heart pounding against yours.

You feel…it’s not different, exactly, but there’s a kind of ease and connection that just feels right. The restless ache inside of you is finally quiet and you feel loose and languid and pleasantly sleepy.

Finding your soulmate isn’t necessarily the same as falling in love. Sometimes it all happens in the moment. Sometimes it’s years in between.

For you, though, you can pinpoint the exact moment that seed was planted: Loki raising his head to look at you, his hand curled against your cheek. His gaze is careful, reverent, like you are as warm and golden as the dawn just barely beginning to streak the morning sky.

[gothamite-rambler]

Red Robin coming out to his foster father, Batman

Red Robin: Batman?

Batman (looking at the city lights): Hm?

Red Robin: I'm… not quite sure how to tell you this because I'm still adjusting to it. "Adjusting" is an odd word, but it's crazy when you find out in your teens that... that I… I like pie!

Batman: Um… Okay?

Red Robin: Yeah, and the pies I like are apple and sweet potato. I always thought I liked apple, but I also really, really like sweet potato—guy—p—pies! And it’s just… not everyone gets that. I never thought you could like both um—

Batman (flatly): Types of pies.

Red Robin (nervous nodding, then taking a breath): Yeah, yeah! Even my parents, who I love, didn’t get people liking certain baked goods, but were never against that. My dad... didn't get me, but always said he would love me no matter what. I think they’d have accepted that… would you accept that? Would any of you accept this?

Red Robin sighed turning away.

Red Robin (whispering): Where was I going with this? Why did I pick pies? Just tell him.

Red Robin sighed, holding his head down. Batman, already sensing what his sidekick was trying to convey, cleared his throat. He wasn’t used to mushy feelings; he was seen as the withdrawn, tough, intimidating Dark Knight at night and billionaire straight playboy Bruce Wayne... and that was true. But in this moment, he tried his best.

Batman: I’ve worked with many people in my civilian life and hero life. Some liked… baked goods that I wasn’t into, and you know how I usually reacted? I don’t care about that. I care about who they are, if they’re a good person, and if they truly love… pies. Who am I to judge? Love is love, that's how I've always thought of it. I think your parents would say the same thing. We all love you… Tim.

Red Robin covered his face and let out an embarrassed groan while Batman stood next to him.

Batman (with a knowing smile): This isn't about pies, is it?

Red Robin shook his head.

Red Robin (confessing): Bruce… I’m bisexual. And this is going to sound stupid to ask, but I’m not strange for being that, right?

Batman: Nope.

Red Robin: Are you lying to me? Are you secretly not okay with this?

Batman: Nope, I'm not lying to you. I'm okay with it because it doesn't make you any different. I don't understand all that, but again I'm not turning my back on you. You said you're bi, not abusing animals.

Red Robin: Is it okay if I hug you?

Batman: Yeah, sure.

Batman and Red Robin hugged for a few seconds, then pulled away. Red Robin wiped his masked-covered eyes.

Red Robin: My allergies are acting up.

Batman (dryly): Hate when that happens. Oh, and if it helps, I kind of figured you were gay and was waiting for you to tell me, but the bi caught me by surprise. Do I need to get you a celebration pie?

Batman chuckled at his own joke, while Red Robin rolled his eyes.

Batman: Come on, that’s funny. I’m proud of you, though. They would be too. Trust me, Janet and Jack weren’t homophobic rich people. Snooty at times, but they would never turn their backs on you. And I won’t either. So let’s discuss setting you up on dates later and get back to patrolling Gotham.

Red Robin (laughing): We don’t have to do that first part. So... how do I tell the rest of the family?

Batman: Well, luckily none of them heard our conversation, but we can invite them all over for dinner. They probably won't be to shocked. I'm curious though is the bi flag different from the main one?

Red Robin: Yeah, the colors are nice, why do you ask?

Batman: I want to make sure I get the right pin. Batwoman scolded me for fifteen minutes cause I didn't remember there was a lesbian flag. I am learning and you are too.

Red Robin (shaking his head with a soft smile): You have no idea.

[rosylix]

Hii! I've never requested but I can't get this idea out of my mind..

So basically Felix and reader have been college roommates for a year or two but Felix ends up falling for them and has to tell them cos it’s only a few months till graduation.

Totally understand if you can't do it, but thought I'd ask!

everglow

𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒸𝓊𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓂𝓸𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓮𝓍𝓉𝓇𝒶 𝓈𝓅𝓮𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁

your best friend and roommate is acting especially sentimental tonight. you try to get to the bottom of it

pairing: felix × gn!reader

wc: 6.3k

content: college au, friends to lovers, feelings realization, shy felix, oblivious reader, they're nerds, fluff, light angst, crying?, pouty lix, kissing, mildly suggestive?, hopeful ending

a/n: my first fulfilled request?? i apologize if this was sitting in my inbox for forever.. i wasn't planning on writing a whole thing but then suddenly. i had an epiphany. ty for helping me out of writers block anon 🫶 i hope this is kinda how you were envisioning it!

[also read on ao3]

—

Your college dorm is a familiar sight, the mess of papers and coffee cups giving away the fact that the end of the year is fast approaching. You've been sharing this space with Felix for the past couple years, both of you working hard to keep your grades up and—hopefully, somehow—graduate?

…You're sure it'll be fine. As long as you do well enough on your capstone project, which is why you're sitting at Felix's desk, dutifully researching. Sometimes you take to his room when you need a change of scenery or just want company; though it's just you right now as Felix had to leave for class earlier.

You're just about to take a stretch break when you hear the front door open and soon enough, Felix trudges into the room. “Still here?” he says when he sees you.

“Unfortunately.” You set your things down and look over at him with a long sigh to convey your exhaustion.

“Dude, same,” he groans, tossing his bag on the floor before flopping down on his bed. “I don't think I've ever been so fucking tired in my life. Why did I pursue higher education again?”

That gets you to laugh a little. “Maybe for some kind of high-paying job and… a sense of accomplishment?” you suggest.

He lets out another groan, rolling over on his side. “But at what fucking cost? Sleep deprivation and a caffeine addiction?” He looks at you with wide, pleading eyes. “Remind me why I'm doing this again.”

You get up and walk over to his bed, sitting down on the edge next to him, a playful smile on your face. “Well, I seem to recall someone who said they wanted to be some hot shot computer engineer.”

He props himself up on one elbow to face you. “Ooh, you think I'm hot?” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

You give him a look that hopefully conveys how much of an idiot you think he is. “Hot shot, dumbass.” 

…Still, it would be dishonest to disagree: your roommate is attractive. Anyone with a working set of eyes can see that.

“Ohh, I see. You think I'm hot shit?”

You roll your eyes so far back it almost hurts. “As if you don't hear that enough.”

He grins, clearly amused and clearly not above shamelessly fishing for compliments. “Oh, but it's so much more fun to hear it from you,” he teases, leaning back against his pillow.

You give him a withering glare but he just reaches out and pats the spot next to him on the bed. “Come sit down.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “I am literally sitting down.”

“Okay, well, closer, genius.”

You sigh exaggeratedly, but you humor him anyway, scooting over closer to where he's lounging on the bed. You thought that was enough, but this is Felix, and you should have known better. He reaches out and grabs your wrist, gently but firmly tugging you down next to him.

He shifts so he's on his side facing you and grins, clearly satisfied. His hair is messy and there's a hint of dark circles under his eyes, but he still manages to look unfairly attractive.

You shake your head at his antics and let out a long sigh. “Well… You've already made it this far, you know,” you tell him. “Only a few months left of dealing with school, and then you're done.”

“...Yeah.”

He's quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting across your face, a hint of something almost like melancholy in his eyes.

“Why am I kinda sad, though?” he finally asks with a chuckle.

You blink. “Sad? About being done with school?”

He nods. “I mean, I want to be done, god, believe me I do, but…” He blows out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I dunno, it just doesn't feel as good as I expected it to. And I'm…” He pauses, clearly thinking his words over.

“I'm… gonna miss this, honestly. A lot.”

“This?” You gesture around the room. "You're going to miss this? Our tiny-ass, overpriced apartment?"

He laughs at that. “Not this place, I guess.”

“Then? The constant lack of sleep? Exams? The shitty cafeteria food?”

“Please,” Felix scoffs before taking a deep breath, looking somewhere behind you. “I'm… going to miss this." He looks back at you and pokes your shoulder for emphasis. “This. Us living together. Hanging out all the time. I'm going to miss that.”

You blink, a little taken aback at his earnestness. “Oh,” you say intelligently. “Yeah. I…”

You try to ignore the way your heart is suddenly in your throat. In truth, you've been doing your best not to think about it, how things will inevitably change after graduation.

“I mean…” you start. “It's not like we're never going to see each other again or something. We'll keep in touch, right?” But even as you say it, you feel yourself deflating. It’s not the same.

His expression reflects yours, his smile soft but a little sad around the edges. “...Of course we will.” He sounds like he's saying it as much to himself as he is to you. 

He's silent for another moment, his fingers gently running over the blanket, not quite meeting your gaze.

“It won't… be the same though,” he says, mirroring your own thoughts. “Like— you know? I'm gonna miss the convenience store we always go to at 2AM, I'm gonna miss our late-night study sessions and the shitty coffee you make, I'm gonna miss how you always use up the hot water in the shower and your annoying alarm waking me up at fuck-ass in the morning—” He suddenly cuts off, a flush rising in his cheeks.

He turns on his back again, slinging an arm over his eyes. “Ugh, I don't know, just shut up and let me wallow in my feelings.”

You're honestly a little speechless. All that, things he claims are annoying — he's going to miss it all that much?

“Hey,” you say gently, nudging his shoulder. “Hey, you sap, look at me.”

“No. I'm wallowing.”

You roll your eyes. “I can see that.” You poke his arm. Then again, harder. “Come on, look at me.”

Felix huffs dramatically, lowering his arm and turning his head to look at you from the corner of his eye. “What? I’m looking.”

Your heart clenches at the sight of him. He's pouting, looking a little petulant but still so endearingly cute, and you can definitely see the hint of embarrassment in his gaze as he peeks at you.

You let a smile spread across your face. “You're gonna miss me.”

Felix averts his gaze, his cheeks going a little pinker. “I mean, a little, I guess,” he mumbles, before letting out a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Ugh, why are you looking at me like that? Don't let it go to your head or anything.”

It's so obvious that it's more than just a little — but you decide not to call him out on it. Instead, you lean forward, propping yourself up with one arm. “Too late,” you tease, grinning widely. “You're gonna miss me so much.”

He groans, throwing his forearm over his eyes again. "Whatever. Shut up.”

You look at him silently for a moment, taking in his flushed face and his messy hair. God, he's so cute. You've always been aware of how pretty he is, but there's something about seeing him like this, completely unguarded and vulnerable, that's making your lungs feel tight.

You clear your throat awkwardly, shifting your gaze away from him. “Hey, come on, cheer up.”

“No,” he says, still hiding his face behind his arm. “I'll just lay here and wallow and die."

“So dramatic,” you chide, poking his side roughly, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts. You're starting to feel a little flustered too.

He whines at the contact, swatting at your hand, but you notice he hasn't moved his other arm away from his face. “Ow, hey, violence,” he complains, curling away from your fingers. “Ow, ow, dude—”

You reach out and grab his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. He lets out a half-hearted protest, but doesn’t get the chance to resist.

Oh. His eyes are shining.

You freeze. 

He's pouting again, but it's less childish now and more vulnerable, embarrassed. For a moment you just sort of stare, suddenly hyper-aware of how close the two of you are. His face is so close, so pretty, and your heart is doing something strange, beating rapidly in your chest.

“You’re—” You clear your throat, struggling with what to say. You… hadn’t realized how much this was impacting him.

He looks away and blinks hard, but his eyes are still a bit misty, unshed tears stubbornly sticking to his eyelashes. “Sorry. I'm being stupid,” he finally says, his voice a little quiet. “Ignore me, I'm just being weird, it's—” He swallows. “...I'm tired.”

Oh, god. You've been joking and teasing and making fun, but now you just feel like the biggest jerk, because he's actually really upset about this.

“Wait, no,” you murmur, suddenly serious. “No, it’s not— You're not being stupid. I—” You're having a lot more trouble than usual forming coherent sentences.

Your hand is still around his wrist, your fingers pressing against his pulse point. You squeeze it lightly. “It's okay.” You can feel the rapid beating of his heart, in contrast to the rest of him lying completely still. “It's not stupid. I’m— I'm gonna miss you too, idiot.”

He lets out a wet sounding laugh at that, rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t pull his arm away from your grip. “So mean,” he says. “Do you have to insult me to say nice things?”

“Well, yeah.”

The corners of his mouth twitch and you feel a bit of relief that you've managed to cheer him up a little.

“But you mean it?” He looks up at you with a shy expression. “You're gonna miss me?”

“Of course,” you say, suddenly struck by how much you mean it. “Yeah, I am. A lot.”

He lets out a low breath, eyes flicking over your face. “Yeah?” he says quietly. 

It's silent for a moment. Felix is still looking at you, a little shyly, and it's driving you a little crazy. He sighs, his brow pinched slightly, like he’s struggling with some internal conflict. You wait patiently, giving him space to express what he wants to say.

But he doesn't. Just averts his eyes and blinks harshly at the wall behind you.

“Please don't cry or I'll start crying too,” you say with a bit of a nervous laugh.

Felix lets out a shaky breath. “...I’m not going to cry.”

You give him a look. 

“I’m not,” he insists, using his free hand to rub his eyes. “I have allergies or something, I just— I—”

He hesitates, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. 

“Okay, look,” he sits up, pulling his wrist free from your grip and taking a deep breath. “It's just— I…” He stops, running a hand through his hair nervously. 

“Felix?” you ask, sitting up too. You're starting to get a little concerned. Why is the mood suddenly so weird?

He groans, burying his face in his hands, his voice muffled when he speaks. “This is embarrassing.”

It doesn't help your concern. “What’s embarrassing?” you ask carefully, trying to keep your voice steady.

“This,” he mutters, still hiding his face.

You hesitate a moment, not really knowing what to do, before tentatively reaching out and touching his arm. “Um… It's fine, you can talk to me.”

He lets out a frustrated breath before finally looking at you. “You’re not gonna like it.”

Oh. “Well… Did you… like, kill someone or something?”

Felix stares at you for a moment, clearly trying to keep a straight face but his lips twitch a little. “No, I didn’t kill anyone, you psychopath,” he says dryly.

“Okay, well, good,” you say, clearing your throat. “No illegal activities? The government isn't after you?”

“I… No,” he says slowly.

This conversation is taking a bizarre turn. “And you're not, like… secretly an alien sent to spy on humans this whole time? And… now you have to return to your home planet to plot the annihilation of Earth?”

That finally gets Felix to laugh. “You're— you're a fucking idiot,” he says through giggles. “Seriously.”

“I’m just checking,” you say, crossing your arms. “You're being all weird and shit and…” you gesture vaguely. “Maybe you're an alien. I don't know.”

That only sets him off giggling again. “Oh my god,” he says, leaning his forehead on your shoulder, his body shaking with laughter. “Why are you so dumb.”

You roll your eyes, just relieved to see him smile. He's much more relaxed now, the mood in the room lifted with his laughter. All part of your plan. You're more than happy to appear ridiculous if it means seeing him laugh.

He finally stops laughing, though he’s still smiling a little as he lifts his head and looks at you. He’s much closer than you anticipated, and you try not to be too distracted by the freckles around his eyes and the way his eyelashes flutter when he blinks as his gaze flicks across your face. He’s looking at you intently, and the air in the room feels charged, electric almost.

“You…” he starts, but hesitates, cutting himself off with a shake of his head. “Why are you so dumb,” he repeats.

Wow. “Now who's being mean?” you pout.

He laughs again, but it’s softer than before, a shaky, nervous sound. “God, I— this is so stupid, I—”

He lets out a frustrated breath, staring directly into your eyes, his expression intense and focused. “How do you not notice,” he mutters under his breath.

You’re frozen under his gaze, your heart suddenly in your throat. “Notice… what?”

Felix closes his eyes. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”

What? “It seems like it matters since you’re…”

He opens his eyes again, looking a bit pained as he looks at you. “Just… just forget it.”

You don’t know what to say. You can feel your heart beating wildly in your chest, your hands shaking slightly. “Uh… okay,” you say. “Sorry for… being dumb…?”

He grimaces. “No, I didn't mean it like—”

He lets out a long, heavy breath, shaking his head. Then he reaches out and takes your hand, his fingers brushing against your wrist.

His voice is quieter when he speaks, looking down, idly playing with your fingers. “Just… you’re supposed to notice,” he mumbles, almost to himself. “It’s supposed to be obvious.”

You stare at him, confused and flustered and… honestly, a little distracted by how he's touching your hand. “What's… uhh, what?” Everything feels like it's too much all of a sudden, and your chest is really starting to do something weird.

He sighs. “Nevermind. Seriously.”

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again. “When we graduate,” he starts. “...Which I guess is really soon, huh.”

The way he says it makes your chest pang painfully. He’s still not looking at you. ��I won’t see you anymore…” he murmurs, his voice so quiet you can barely hear him.

You grab his hand, stopping him from fiddling with your fingers, and squeeze gently. “Hey,” you say. “C’mon, it’s not like that.”

He huffs out a bitter laugh. “Isn't it, though?”

It kind of feels like you’ve been punched in the gut. This isn't like him, he's usually the one full of sunshine and optimism, reassuring you. But right now, the defeat in his voice is palpable.

The reality of the situation starts sinking in. Time’s almost up.

“Felix,” you say quietly, and he finally lifts his eyes up from his lap to look at you. His eyes are watery again.

He swallows, his voice breaking a little as he speaks. “Sorry, I’m being… I’m being unfair, I just…” He hesitates before continuing. “I don’t want to not see you.”

You frown, tears pricking your eyes now too. You don't trust your voice to speak, throat feeling tight and uncomfortable.

“And you’re just… so oblivious,” he continues, his finger tracing over your knuckles. “So stubborn, and dumb, and you’re probably the most annoying person I’ve ever met in my life and I seriously cannot believe I like—”

He cuts off suddenly, slapping a hand over his mouth.

Wait.

“Felix,” you murmur, and his eyes dart up to meet yours, a little panicked. He tries to jerk his hand away from yours, but you hold on tighter, keeping him in place.

“Felix,” you repeat, your skin buzzing from the way he’s looking at you. “You can’t just… leave me hanging like that.”

He looks away, face a brilliant crimson red. “Yeah, I can.”

You almost want to laugh. You didn’t realize he could be so shy, but you can’t focus on that now, because your heart is racing and you can’t tell if you’re going to pass out, or pass away.

“No, you can’t,” you say shakily. “When are you gonna tell me? At the commencement ceremony?”

He lets out a half-choked, almost hysterical sort of laugh, keeping his head turned away so he doesn’t have to look at you. “Yeah, something like that.”

He has to be joking. “That’s months away!”

“And?”

You shake your head, feeling dizzy. “I’m not gonna wait that long, are you insane?”

He huffs and glares at you, pouting. “Oh, well I’m sorry, would you just rather I shout it from the fucking roof tops then? Hey, everyone, I’ve been in love with my best friend since freshman year!”

What.

You blink, stunned speechless, your eyes wide. 

Your mind is spinning, the air in the room suddenly too thick to breathe. The words in love keep ringing in your ears, over and over again.

“You— you what?” you manage to get out, feeling a little faint. You must not have heard him correctly. You're hallucinating, or having a stroke or… something. He can't actually mean—

Felix winces. “...Fuck.” he mutters, dropping his head into his hands.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, brain still struggling to catch up to the situation. You’re still processing that he said the word love, when the last few words register.

“Wait— freshman year?” you say incredulously. “You’ve— since—?”

He’s clearly trying to act somewhat composed but the bright red on his ears betrays him. “Um. Yeah. Shut up. Stop talking,” he says, voice muffled from behind his hands.

You think about the past few years of your life, every interaction with him, and it’s like everything suddenly clicks into place.

The way his ears turn pink whenever you compliment him. The way you could always get under his skin so easily. You think about every time he got defensive, or huffy, or pouty at something innocuous you did or said.

…The way he's never really shown interest in anyone, despite the plenty of interest shown his way. The countless people he's turned down, for seemingly no reason. When you'd questioned him about it, he'd just laughed awkwardly and said he preferred to focus on his studies.

“Oh my god,” you say again.

Felix groans and hides his face further, his ears practically on fire. “Stop. Don't,” he mutters. “It's okay. Just… pretend you never heard that, okay, it's fine—”

“No.”

It’s silent for a moment, Felix still hiding his face, and your mind still swirling with thoughts. 

You kind of want to kiss him.

The realization is sudden, but not entirely unexpected. It’s not really a surprise, honestly, just another thing that feels natural. Maybe because deep down, of course somewhere along the line you've developed feelings for the person you can trust with anything, who gets you more than anyone else. Your favorite person in the world.

You’re only half in your right mind as you grab his wrists, pulling his hands off of his face.

“You ass,” you say, staring directly at him.

He looks at you with wide, panicked eyes. “I'm sorry—” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Can I kiss you?” 

He chokes, eyes going even wider. He opens his mouth, then closes it, clearly caught off guard. After a moment, he manages to find his voice, though it’s very high pitched and shaky. “What?”

You take a deep breath. “Can I kiss you,” you repeat, your head feeling fuzzy, your pulse pounding in your ears.

“…What?” he asks again. His face is bright red. “Are— are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” you murmur, leaning even closer, your faces almost touching.

His breath catches, and his eyes dart between your eyes and your lips. “Please say you’re not,” he manages to say, voice breaking.

“I’m not,” you say, feeling a little crazy. Insane, maybe. You can’t really bring yourself to care. “Can I?”

He doesn't give you an answer, letting out an incredulous breath before grabbing the front of your shirt and yanking you forward as he falls back so you land on top of him.

You’re about to protest at the continued lack of a clear answer, but then he’s kissing you and you forget how to speak.

It's not the most graceful kiss, you’re both a little clumsy, but it’s sweet and it’s Felix and that’s all that really matters. You figure it out quickly, getting into a rhythm, and he lets out a shaky breath against your mouth, his hand moving to tangle in your hair. You feel like you’re dreaming, or drowning, or both.

Felix is kissing you. Felix is kissing you. Your closest friend. He’s in love with you, and he’s kissing you.

It makes your head spin. After several moments, you finally pull away, panting and dizzy. You feel a little delirious, staring down at him, both of you catching your breath.

His head falls back against the pillow, face turning impossibly red as he blinks at you like he’s in shock. You laugh a little and he huffs, but his eyes soften.

“So… you, uh— You— Are you—?”

You cut him off with another touch of your lips, effectively shutting him up. He instantly melts into it, tightens his grip in your hair, pulling you further into the kiss, and you can’t think straight, everything is just Felix. 

After a while, you’re forced to break away again for air. Felix whines at the loss of contact, eyes half-lidded, his cheeks flushed. You only manage to get a few breaths in before he's pulling you down into another kiss, more urgently this time.

You let out a surprised noise, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He seems to be determined to kiss you senseless, and it’s working. 

He bites your bottom lip, making you gasp into his mouth. He mumbles something in response, his thigh sliding between your legs, and your brain short-circuits.

Okay. You shiver. Okay. You should probably… You manage to pull away for a much needed breath and Felix tries to chase after your mouth, but you press a hand to his chest to hold him in place.

He groans, looking frustrated, but flops back against the pillow obediently. He blinks at you dazedly, his own chest heaving, eyes half-lidded and dark, but his expression quickly morphs into a pout. “Why… Why…?” he complains, trying to tug you closer again.

You huff a weak laugh, shaking your head, and he gives you a wide-eyed look, all innocence and sweetness, and that's not fair that he can look like this after all of that.

“Just— one sec,” you somehow get out, your mind still completely overloaded. “We should… uh…”

He’s still trying to reach your mouth. “What,” he mutters, breathing heavily against your neck.

“Talk,” you manage to say, even as his lips make their way to your jaw. “We should… we need to… oh my god—”

You cut off, stifling a gasp as he sucks on your skin. “Felix,” you say, trying to be stern, but it comes out like a moan instead.

“Mm?” he hums against your ear, completely unapologetic. “You want to… talk?”

“Yeah.” It takes all your willpower to pull away, ignoring how he whines in protest. You sit up and take a moment to compose yourself, willing yourself to ignore the urge to just give in to him.

Felix flops back onto the bed, throwing his arm over his eyes as he sighs, his voice sounding a little raspy.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his ears red. “Sorry, god, I've thought about this so much, I just—”

Oh. “You’ve… thought about…? How much…?”

He makes a strangled noise and covers his face more thoroughly, voice muffled. “Oh my god,” he groans, “I'm going to fucking die. I… a lot.”

…Okay. Okay. Deep breaths. Okay.

“...How much is a lot?” you ask, unable to resist your curiosity. And maybe you want to tease him about it. Just a little.

He groans again. “So, so much. An embarrassing and pathetic amount.” He’s not even trying to hide his pouting. “Can you please not make me say the actual words.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, but the way he sounds — breathless and embarrassed — it’s honestly kind of adorable. He’s always so confident in most aspects of his life that you kind of love seeing him so flustered.

“Please… don’t,” he mumbles, peeking at you. “I’m begging you…”

He's blinking up at you, the picture of innocence once again. He glances up at you through his eyelashes, all pretty and delicate and ugh, he's absolutely doing this on purpose.

“You’re distracting,” you say weakly, staring down at him. “Stop making cute faces at me.”

He does not stop making cute faces. He tries though, lowering his hands as his face drops into a scowl. “I’m not making a cute face,” he protests.

“Yeah, you are,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “You’re doing it right now. Your pouty thing.”

He sniffs. “I'm not,” he says petulantly, though there’s a hint of mirth in his eyes. “This is just my regular face. It’s not my fault if my face is cute.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

He opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off with a finger, placing it over his lips. His mouth instantly snaps shut, and you can’t resist a little grin as he looks up at you with wide eyes. 

You watch as he swallows, his eyes fixed on you, and, not for the first time, you’re reminded of how pretty he is. He’s always been gorgeous, in an objective sort of way, but you feel like you’re seeing him for the first time.

You move your hand away and take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You need to talk about this while you’re both still somewhat coherent, or you’ll go absolutely insane.

“So…” You’re a little pleased with how steady your voice is, considering the circumstances. “You… love me.”

Felix coughs and covers his face again. “Do you have to say it like that,” he groans, his voice muffled by his palms.

“You never… you never said anything.” 

He just shrugs, still hiding his face. “I was scared to lose you,” he says with a shaky breath. “I didn’t expect you to want me back…” There's no bitterness in his tone, just disbelief.

You frown. “But you’re—” You bite your tongue. Felix was worried about you not wanting him?

You shake your head, a somewhat acrid feeling welling up inside of you. You've seen firsthand the sheer amount of attention he gets from people, from the random gifts and outright confessions and people slipping him numbers and notes everywhere he goes. There's never been a shortage of interest in him, from all sorts of people. Compared to him, you're… nothing.

“So… this whole time, you just… thought I was clueless?” You're still trying to wrap your head around it.

He sighs. “I mean, kind of,” he says, his eyes peeking through his fingers. “You’ve been completely oblivious to anyone who’s ever flirted with you.” 

Including me, he doesn't say, but you're starting to put the pieces together.

You wince, your face flushing. “I’m not that oblivious,” you protest weakly. “I just… I’ve never been particularly interested in… anyone.” 

Felix stares at you, one eyebrow raised.

“Like…” It's true that you've never really liked anyone very strongly in all your time at college. Some fleeting crushes here and there, but even the few people you had tried to go on dates with always felt lacking in some inexplicable way. You always felt much better as soon as you'd come home to your shared space with Felix, always feeling the most comfortable in his presence. Was that it? All this time, no one could ever compare to your best friend? 

And the constant attention Felix would get… It annoyed the hell out of you. At first, you would tease him, even encourage him to give them a chance, delight in the way his face would turn bright red. But it quickly became so annoying watching him have to navigate awkward conversations, politely turn people down. Sure, a part of you was probably a bit insecure always watching him receive so much attention. At least, that's what you told yourself. But beyond that, you think you're finally starting to understand the feeling for what it is.

Jealousy.

“Oh my god.” You’re starting to realize what a mess this entire situation is. “We're both idiots.”

Felix finally drops his hands from his face, giving you a dry look. “Speak for yourself.”

"Shut up," you say absently, not even annoyed. Your head is reeling.

This is… a mess. Felix is in love with you, you’re pretty sure the feeling has been mutual for a while, and you’re both leaving this place in just a few months. 

“So… you’ve never liked anyone before?” Felix asks. His tone is a bit teasing, though there's curiosity beneath.

You make a face. “Um.” Yeah, that's what you thought for the past couple years until now. How much do you reveal?

All of the puzzle pieces are clicking into place in your mind, making your head hurt even more. So much time wasted, you want to cry.

“I guess no one ever compared to you,” you say without thinking, and immediately slap your hand over your face.

“Oh.” There’s a second of silence as you both process the words.

Then, Felix starts laughing.

“Oh my god,” he mutters, struggling to contain himself, barely managing to keep his laughter under control. Your face is growing redder by the second, embarrassed and annoyed.

“Will you stop?” you whine.

“I’m sorry, I just—” he tries to get himself together, taking a deep breath before looking at you fondly. “This is the corniest fucking shit I've ever— holy shit. We're actually both stupid.”

“I told you,” you say, smacking him on the arm. 

He just snickers, grabbing your wrist before you can hit him again. He pulls you so you’re half-lying on top of him again, and you can feel his shoulders shaking as if he’s trying to keep from bursting out into another fit of laughter.

You let your head fall against his chest with a huff, still annoyed even as he wraps an arm around you, his hand rubbing against your back.

“You jerk,” you mutter.

He hums, sounding amused. “You love me.”

You go rigid, and he starts to laugh again, obviously enjoying the fact that he found an easy way to fluster you. 

“Shut up,” you grumble weakly, burying your face against him.

It isn't fair. He’s had time to fully realize it, years apparently. He’s had time to process everything. Meanwhile, you feel like you’ve been completely blindsided. 

He finally stops laughing and you’re both quiet for a few moments. You can hear his heart drumming loud in his chest.

“Wow,” he says suddenly. “We could have avoided a lot of stress if we realized earlier.”

You let out a snort of semi-hysterical laughter. “I know,” you agree, before pausing and wincing. “Oh god, I can't believe we've been… that we've been living together…”

“Yeeeahh… That's been torture by the way,” he says conversationally, as if he's discussing the weather, and your cheeks flare up. 

“...Torture?”

He squeezes your side. “Are you kidding? Have you seen yourself every day? Every time you wear my jacket, or… anything? Wearing those hoodies on movie nights—”

“I get it,” you cut him off, your face absolutely burning. “I get it, I’m—”

“Stupid?” he offers helpfully. “Oblivious? Cute?”

“...You never said anything,” you say weakly in an attempt to defend yourself.

“I wasn't going to make things awkward,” he protests. “Can you imagine if I’d actually said anything and you just… what? Said no? And then we have to keep living together like normal?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress the guilt stirring in your stomach. You can’t even begin to imagine what it's been like from his perspective.

“...Sorry.” You shift so you can actually look at him, but he won’t meet your eyes, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he pouts.

“You really didn't notice?” he asks, finally looking at you. “Even a little?”

“No.” You feel a frustrated sort of laugh bubbling up. “We’ve been so stupid. We could’ve… we’ve wasted so much time, years—”

“Hey, hey,” he interrupts, seeing your expression, sitting up and gently placing his hand on your cheek, and you stop abruptly. “It doesn’t matter,” he says reassuringly. “We have time, okay? Plenty of time.”

You’re still struggling with the whole situation, trying to process everything as you stare at him. “But… we’re graduating.”

He gives you a small, unsure smile. “Yeah. We are.”

"And… I don't even know where I'm going. We could be—”

“Hey.” He cuts you off, placing a finger gently on your lips, and you bite your tongue, looking down at him. “Stop worrying so much. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

You try to take a deep breath and he leans forward until his forehead is touching yours. 

Your mind is still racing, your entire universe is completely tilted, and you’re not entirely sure how to deal with any of it. But Felix is close and his hand is still on your cheek and…

And you want to focus on that instead, ignore everything else for now.

“Yeah?” you say weakly, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little more firm, and he brings his other hand up to cup your face.

“For now,” he continues, his breath warm against your skin. “Let’s just…” He lets out an unsteady laugh, his hands still gently framing your face. “Can we just…”

Your entire body feels a little shaky. You lean forward a bit, closing the distance, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Yeah,” he breathes before slanting his mouth against yours.

It’s not very decorous. You’re both a little desperate, a little uncoordinated, trying to make up for years of lost time.

It’s messy and you can feel that he’s still a little nervous — as are you — but he's also determined. He pulls you closer, one of his hands sliding into your hair, tugging gently in a way that makes you gasp into his mouth.

Then he suddenly pulls back after a few moments, laughing when you whine pathetically in protest.

“Shh, hang on,” he says, slightly out of breath, and you open your eyes dizzily.

“...What?” you complain.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I… I just remembered that I…”

You watch, utterly befuddled, as he pushes against your shoulders so he can sit up. He gently lifts you off of him, answering your whine of protest with a quick kiss before his hand drifts away from your face, reaching for his phone.

You try to grab at him. “What are you doing—”

He laughs and dodges out of your reach. “Just gimme a second,” he says, turning his phone on as he settles back on the bed.

You sit there, feeling dazed and frustrated as he taps at his phone, his attention focused on the screen. After a few moments, he finally seems to finish what he’s doing, putting his phone down with a satisfied hum.

When he meets your eyes, he just looks amused at your expression. “Sorry, sorry,” he says with a grin, moving closer to you again.

“What was so important,” you pout.

“I was meant to meet with my group mates for our project tonight,” he says. “So, I told them I'm feeling sick.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Felix.”

He has the audacity to just smile innocently, already shifting so he can push you down against the sheets.

“What?” he says casually, hovering over you, his hands coming to rest on your waist. “I wasn't gonna be able to focus anyways.”

“Oh.” You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks again. “Is… that really okay…?”

“Don't worry,” he says, leaning down and pressing a light kiss into your neck. “I practically carry them anyway, they can live without me for one night.”

You swallow, feeling his hands slide up your arms, his touch leaving a trail of sparks along your skin. “Okay,” you agree, completely distracted now, your thoughts hazy.

“Mhm.” He sucks on a sensitive spot on your collarbone and you let out a shaky exhale. “Can we focus on something else right now?”

You nod. He moves up to kiss you and you know, with him, you'll figure out whatever comes next.

For now, that's enough.

—

a/n: me, a mech eng major.. ofc i had to make felix a fellow engineer. nerds 4 life (do not study engineering i crave death every moment)

also yes title is the coldplay song bc im actually uncreative as hell and name everything after songs. how do ppl come up with titles (T＿T) but anyway since it's one of felix's fav songs i thought it was especially fitting 🤍

tysm for reading 🫶

buy me a cookie if you enjoyed <3

[wonderjanga]

*slides an idea under your door*

Captain Marvel accidentaly convincing people that he's a widowers

*runs away*

Captain Marvel is a widower. It makes sense. He wears a ring(ref to my Accessories post), he always gets sad on a certain day, and anytime romance is offered he immediately shies away from it. Now, the JL or civilians don’t know this but the ring thing is just a memento to his father, he just gets sad on that day cause it’s their death day, and he thinks romance is icky. But Billy’s not going to tell them any of that. Not because he doesn’t want to. No, he just doesn’t even know they think he’s a widower. Even if Billy did know though, after the amount of certain things he’s said, he doesn’t think he could convince him that isn’t a widower.

Marvel and Junior: *arguing*

Junior: “Yeah, well boo-hoo you’re motherless!”

Supes: *nearby, gasps because he thinks Junior just reminded his father of his dead mother*

Marvel: “Wha- You’re motherless too?!”

Supes: *double gasps because he thinks Marvel just confirmed his wife was dead because everyone thinks Junior is his kid*

He told everyone that the Widower Marvel theory was true and now confirmed.

or

On the anniversary of their parents’ deaths, Mary’s feeling a little upset.

Marvel: “Oh, I’m sorry Mary. I… know today is tough especially considering it’s the anniversary of that day.”

Mary: *tearing up slightly but trying to hide it*

Marvel: *kneels down looking like a proper father* “But, I want you to know that if you feel upset, you can always come to me. We can mourn together. That’s better than doing it alone, isn’t it?

Mary: *getting flashbacks from how their dad would also kneel down to comfort them which only makes her wanna cry more* “Yeah, okay.”

Wondy: *just happened to see this happening and thinks this is both simultaneously adorable and heartbreaking*

or

Junior and Marvel were in a rec room looking at a dress they’d placed on a table. They were arguing which one of them should wear it because they needed one of them needed to shapeshift into a girl for something stupid they planned to do later.

Marvel and Junior: *still arguing*

Flash: *walked in and sees the dress* “Who’s dress is that?”

Marvel: *startles and is trying to come up with an excuse for why a grown man and a somewhat little boy have a dress* “This uh…”

Junior: *wants to stir up some drama* “His wife. This dress belonged to his wife.”

Marvel: “Yeah, my wife- WAIT MY WHAT?”

Junior: “Me and Mary’s mom remember? The woman you married?” *does a little winky wink to convey that he wants him to go along with it*

Marvel: *gives him the most scandalized look*

Flash: *thinks the scandal is just him being upset that Junior is sharing something about their civilian lives* “Oh I see… uh my bad for intruding on your mourning…?”

Marvel and Junior: *in unison* “What?”

[gay-dorito-dust]

if willing, I would love to see the Bride with a witchy GF?

I know we’ve only seen two episodes so this could be considered soft bride content until I get to see more of these beautiful characters.

She was brought to life by science.

You harnessed magic within your very veins.

Once upon a time you wouldn’t have thought that you’d be able to get through to Bride, she kept her walks up and for good reason, you could sense her pain and her anguish through it whether you were trying to or not.

You still remembered even now the first things you said to her upon first meeting her and still you couldn’t help but chuckle at how far you’ve both come as you show her small feats of your rather dangerous magic. ‘My magic senses that somethings amiss within you, bride.’

Her response;

‘Can your magic also sense that I want you to fuck off and leave me alone?’

You didn’t came within vicinity of her for a good while after that and stuck rather closely to the likes of Nina and Dr phosphorus instead. Your first meeting wasn’t love at first sight, more like hostility until you’ve known her long enough for her to actually bring herself to care for you, and you gladly accepted her request-despite it having been said in a rather blunt manner- and gave her space until you were required to go out on missions; which you found was a rarity as Amanda Waller loved to keep tricks up her sleeves until it was convenient for her to let you all out.

It wasn’t only until recently did you discover that you did like each others company. So fast forward to the present day and here you were, cradling bride again your chest with one hand on her waist while the other was in front of her and showing her amazing illusions of animals, people or even fireworks with your magic to put her mind at ease.

‘You’re such a show off you know that.’ She tells you but you could tell that she was being playful with how she seemed to relax further again your hold.

‘If helping you with my powers showing offs then I guess I should try and go for a more grandiose approach with my powers next time then shall I?’ You rhetorically asked with a smirk upon your face before she gently elbows you in the stomach. ‘Don’t. The last time you tried to conjure up an illusion of a unicorn and it ran right through Phosphorus.’ Bride cackled as she recalled the memory, burying her head into the crook of your neck as you admire her, loving the fact that you were the only person who got to see this side of her and love for it as you did the side she’s always shown others.

You couldn’t help but laugh alongside her as you could clearly remember phosphorus asking if he was high or did he just got attacked by a cute looking unicorn. It wasn’t long for everyone to know it was you, but thankfully phosphorus took it in stride, finding the humour in it all but bride never let you live it down as the face you made was far too priceless for her joy to tear you about it. ‘You never let me forget! My nickname was unicorn for a good few weeks!’ You replied, squeezing her against you just a little bit tighter, not wanting to ever let her go.

‘It still is!’ Bride exclaims as she looks at you, looking completely different to how she looked in front of the others. Her scowl was gone and replaced with more soft and relaxed features as her lips, once only used to convey a scowl, scoff or frown, was spread from one side of her stitched face to the other in happiness. She looked beautiful in that moment and you couldn’t help but get a little flustered in the cheeks when staring at her for too long, it was just the effect she had on you even long after your relationship started; You treasured such a sight greatly and deeply to your heart as your mind etched this moment into your memories forever.

‘Only you call me unicorn!’ You retorted with a pout as you pressed your head against hers. ‘Was it really that funny?’

Bride catches her breath as she wishes a tear from her eye. ‘Oh darling you have no idea how funny your face was when the unicorn ran through phosphorus, knocking him backwards a couple of feet, you could barely look him in the eye sockets without apologising profusely.’ She tells you with a wide smile and knowing eyes as she pressed her forehead against yours, enjoying the look on your face now as she always did, loving how expressive you face was when it came to certain things and how alive and warm they made you seem.

‘Thank the gods he wasn’t a pissy bitch about it either.’ You added as you weaved your magic to make a couple of butterflies flutter across the room, illuminating everything as they did before coming back and landing on some part of bride, making her look more ethereal then she already did in your eyes. The moment in your room was calm again as you and bride looked on at your creations in awe and wonder as they flew like birds , galloped like horses, walked like humans and swam like fishes before your very eyes. You loved your magic and you could tell that bride was coming to enjoy magic too, but only your magic was her preferred magic to admire and watch up close as she did now.

Her hand slowly reaching out to touch a bird, making it land on her outstretched finger, which made her smile softly as the bird greeted her with a plethora of harmonious tweets. ‘Your magic calms me.’ She tells you softly.

‘I’m glad.’ You tell her while kissing the side of her head and down to her jawline. ‘All my life I thought I was too dangerous to touch but you made me rethink all of that when you told I was a mere street magician who uses pulleys and parlour tricks to put on a show. Now look at you, in my arms and enjoying the show you once hated.’ You add as you kissed her nose before pecking her on her rosey plush lips, smiling.

‘So who’s entertaining who?’ You add rhetorically as bride groaned but kissed you on the lips softly, making you hum in delight.

‘I am, and I’d have to say you’re not bad, for a street magician.’ She said affectionately as she made herself comfortable again you, feeling herself becoming needy with sleep and your affection that you so graciously giving her after so long, she could finally breath within your presence and that was all the magic she could ever ask for.

You beamed brightly as you leaned against the headboard of your bed, watching as a pair of swans flew past you both before you waved a hand and made them transform into a cluster of stars that blanketed the ceiling, brining forth a pleasant soothing feeling to the room as they twinkled like actual stars. ‘Just doing whatever my lady wishes of me. Just tell me anything your heart desires and I shall have it brought to you however I can.’ You tell her truthfully, wanting nothing more than to make your girlfriend happy.

Bride looks to you and smiles, the kaleidoscope of colours that bathed her only emphasised her existing beauty to new heights for you. ‘I only need you.’ She says as she leaned in to kiss you fully on the lips, her hand holding your jaw as yours held her back and hips to draw her closer as you melted in her embrace as she did in yours, the cluster of stars having over your both peacefully as they watched two people embrace one another wholeheartedly.

[phas3d]

Fake Dating | Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: none

contains :: draco, tom, mattheo, theodore, lorenzo

notes :: fake dating is the FUEL TO MY LIFE AHHH slightly inspired by "please please please" by Sabrina Carpenter because ofc it is

DRACO MALFOY

He's bullied you for ages, literally making your high school years hell

But after his father and mother pressure him with questions about a girlfriend

He gets sick of it and wants to shut up for ONE NIGHT just one fucking night

So he gets you to pretend to be his partner, because you're the only girl willing to say yes (because ur scared of him)

Corners you and threatens you, "If you don't give me an Oscar worthy performance I will literally burn all of your uniforms and books"

Now you're at his house, eating expensive steak under 3 chandeliers

No one knows why he has 3 chandeliers,,, not even his parents

But instantly, his parents love you for your nerdiness and cuteness

They see you as a sweet and innocent little partner for Draco :)

But uh oh... you were TOO perfect for his parents

Now Draco is asking you to go with his parents to Germany for a "little trip"

Except their idea of a "little trip" is a week vacation in the most expensive hotel and meeting German celebrities

You can't speak German, but Draco can so he helps answer any questions asked towards you

But for some reason, he gets super agitated as you keep attending parties and people keep coming up to you

He gets so mad on the second-to-last-day of the week vacation to the point he grabs some random guys collar and shouts at him

You pull try to pull them apart but it's too late...

Draco gets his ass whooped... Badly... Embarrassingly bad...

You leave the party early, going back to the hotel alone as you patch his wounds

That's when you ask why he was so upset

But he refuses to answer, saying it's just that the guy was annoying

It's obvious that he's lying, so you keep pushing him and pushing him

So he angrily blurts out: "Because people keep fucking asking for your number!!! GOD!!! You're so dense!"

He says as he lightly flicks your forehead before staring deeply into your eyes: conveying everything he's been feeling for you for these past weeks of "fake dating"

TOM RIDDLE

Mattheo is Tom's worse enemy, despite being brothers

Yet again, Mattheo teases and mocks Tom for being a loser with zero "rizz" or whatever that means

He's sick of Mattheo's stupid ass slang, everyday he hears "you're a beta" "ur aura is so low" "zero rizz bruh"

He's literally going to kill him

But sadly he can't do that, so he comes up with a different solution

He chooses you, a random kid he did a project with once, to pretend to be his new partner

You were hesitant but he then threw in an extra bonus, he would do all your homework for two classes of your choice

So obviously you had to take it

He had to prepare you for the worse: Mattheo

Tom forced you to visit his dorm to study how to reply to Mattheo when you finally meet him

He also made you study how to act like a couple in public

Which he knew nothing about... He was technically right about hand holding and matching clothes

But his version of hand holding was very uncomfortable, the type where you don't interlock fingers

And the clothes he picked were ugly as hell, no way you'd ever wear that stuff

So you had to help him a lot with learning how to act natural in relationships

When he feels that you're finally prepared, he lets you meet Mattheo

Mattheo is super sus at first but is too dumb to question harshly

But now, you're stuck as pretending to be Tom's girlfriend for the rest of the year

He's painfully unaffectionate in public which makes you slightly embarrassed because he makes you look like a clingy girlfriend

But in private, when he's teaching you what to say and doing your homework: he's surprisingly sweet

He gets better at being a boyfriend over time and even takes you on full dates, not just fake photoshoots to post online

But he's still insisting to keep this relationship as just beneficial, no string attached

You can't help but start to fall for him, it's literally impossible to not

He gifts you everything you've ever wanted, takes you to fancy places, making him chuckle under his breathe feels more rewarding than any A+ ever, and those small private moments where you can feel a soul behind his eyes instead of the ice cold make you love him

So you cut it off with him, lying and saying you don't need the benefits and it's too hard to keep lying

He accepts this and lets you go

You end up being really popular once you're single

And that pisses him off ENDLESSLY

He found you first! He basically made you! You're still his, he can't let someone take all his hard work

And for some reason,,, he felt hollow after you left - as if he lost something dear to him

He's not sure how you brought out these emotions, but he wants it back ASAP

MATTHEO RIDDLE

Oh my god double trope: because Mattheo started dating you because he was dared to

You're seen as a kinda bitch in Hogwarts because a group of girls said so

But in reality, you're really chill and grounded, which surprised Mattheo when he went on your first date

You made him laugh a few times (a lot, he's too cocky to admit it)

And you also were really similar to Mattheo, you liked the same games and shows

As he kept pretending to date you, he started to actually like you and your presence

But he's still not too attached because he knows he needs to break up with you in about 2 months

As the weeks pass by, you accidentally read a message for Mattheo

It was from Theo, saying "Jesus dude, you two almost seem like a real couple. You should try acting haha"

You froze but started to plot your revenge on him

You kept acting like everything was fine and normal, and then broke up with HIM

Mattheo was shocked, because not only has he completely fallen for you but he's also never been broken up with

He unsure of what to do, but all he knows is he wants you back

THEODORE NOTT

Pulling girls has almost never been a problem for Theo his entire life

He even pulled grown women while being 14 years old (he's a victim...)

But his main problem is pulling a girl that would be approved by his parents

Theo surrounds himself with heavy drinkers, partiers, and dumb jocks: meaning there's not many partners that are "marriage material"

So he asks you, the Head Girl of your house, to pretend to be his girlfriend for family events

You agreed due to the large sum of money he was paying you, it's insane how rich he is

Every time Theo had a family event, he would just call you up and BOOM his family loves you

But as you keep coming to these family events, acting as a couple becomes less and less awkward for you both

You both agreed to not kiss each other due to this just being acting, plus kissing at family events is weird

But God, Theo really wants to break that rule when you and him are alone on the balcony at night while you ramble about the struggles of being Head Girl

He never thought he'd fall for the super nerdy, responsible, and awkward Head Girl - but he did, and he fell super hard

Theo wants to straight up ask you to be his real girlfriend, but he's so scared

He's scared of making you uncomfortable for catching feelings or making you think he planned this all along

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

Enzo's best friend is Blaise, almost everyone knows that

But what everyone also knows is that Blaise has the FATTEST crush on your best friend, Pansy Parkinson

And even more well known is that Pansy liked him back

There was literally no reason for these two to not get together, they were just too scared to confess

Which is odd since they're both so head-strong and confident, you guess it's just because they're scared of rejection

So Enzo reaches out to you, asking you to help come up with a plan to set them both up on a date

You two are complete strangers, only ever talking once or twice whilst in a group

So you both create a lie: that you and Enzo are going on a first date and need them to tag along to make it a "double date"

Obviously, this works on them because they're great friends

So now you and Enzo are on an awkward fake date while your best friends basically make out next to you

The original plan was just to tell Pansy and Blaise that there was no spark between you and Enzo

But due to you both spending an entire 12 hours together with Blaise and Pansy, you guys got comfortable with each others

He makes you laugh a ton and you do the same

You both love really niche topics and shows, even sharing the same favorite sports teams

Your bond only grows stronger after Blaise and Pansy ask for another double date

But you and Enzo take it slow, having the most sexual tension for months because you both were just claiming to be "friends only"

You finally broke that after about 4 months, thank God

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello, I came to say that dragons are mythical creatures often depicted to be possessive in mythology and literature, sometimes known for their immense power, territorial instincts, and the symbolic association with hoarding wealth and treasures...

Twisted Wonderland in context, Malleus Draconia was confirmed to be a dragon fairy (essentially a dragon who can take a shape of a man), and I was curious if Malleus may have exhibited possessive traits in canon, whether through main story or vignette...?

The reason I ask that is because mischaracterizing characters or making them OOC is the last thing I want to do when it comes to writing or analyzing...

**Sorry if I was not able to word it in a way that you can understand what I'm trying to convey because sometimes I feel inferior that my wording may come off as blunt or insensitive. I just want to leave a brief note that I don't mean to come off as rude or dismissive. I appreciate your understanding!**

In my opinion, Malleus in canon is protective but not possessive. What do I mean by that? Glad you asked. Let's start by laying down some definitions.

In this situation, when I say “protective”, it implies good intentions. It means actively looking out for others' safety and wellbeing. To be possessive, on the other hand, implies a more controlling desire to own or to restrict another's actions. It’s commanding and demanding all of a person’s attention and love. It means having a disrespect for others' autonomy and instead trying to displace it with your will. (Yes, I know that you're probably automatically thinking of The Big Exception of book 7, but I will address that later in this post so hang on for a moment!)

This gets long, so buckle up! We’ve got a lot to talk about.

First thing's first, a lot of the "possessive Malleus" interpretations originate from fandom, especially when it comes to yandere, yume, or generally romantic fan works. (And to be clear: This is NOT to shame the folks who enjoy these kinds of works; I am only listing them here as examples.) Oftentimes this occurs due to individual fans bringing in ideas from media outside the bounds of Twisted Wonderland. This is totally expected and normal; there is no such thing as someone who has an interest in ONLY a singular thing. We will naturally apply our previous knowledge to help us understand and interpret new information.

For example, in irl mythology, fae are hurt by iron--and even in Disney's own films, such as Maleficent, iron is depicted as harming fae and sapping them of their power. This led to many Twst fans headcanoning that iron does the same thing to fae in Twisted Wonderland. However, we learn in book 7 that this is NOT true. Fae, particularly nobles, do find the smell of iron nauseating, but the metal does not appear to impede their powers or hinder them in any way. Lilia and his men are still able to dispatch several Silver Owls (who are dressed in iron arm and battle with iron tanks and other machinery) without issue.

Another example that’s pretty popular is fans believing that whole “if you tell a fairy your name, it grants them power over you” thing. Some have claimed this will come into play in book 7’s final battle. Others claim this is the deeper or secondary reason as to why Malleus doesn’t reveal his own name to Yuu until book 5, as giving his name would grant Yuu power over him. However, there’s nothing in-universe to suggest that names have cultural significance to fae or that any sort of power or status is granted by relinquishing one’s name. Yuu (or Malleus’s hundreds of other classmates) have also demonstrated no such control over him.

Remember: what is true outside of Twst, including in Disney's own works, is NOT necessarily true inside of Twst.

Going back to the initial question, I believe that "Malleus is possessive" is also a headcanon of a similar vein; fans are coming into Twst familiar with other mythos which state that dragons are possessive, territorial, and greedy on top of being powerful. Because Malleus is a dragon fae and is known to possess great power, it's very easy for fans to see the parallels between him and the dragons they already know of. This then leads to them filling in the gaps of his personality and projecting other stereotypical draconic traits onto him. In Malleus's case, this was extremely easy to do because it took a few years for him to see any significant spotlight in both event stories (Glorious Masquerade) and in the main story (book 7).

I think the easiest way for us to analyze whether Malleus is protective or possessive is to examine his closest relationships in the narrative of Twst. I will not be counting Sebek and Silver individually here, as they are both his bodyguards and Malleus maintains a mostly professional relationship with them. Instead, we shall look at Malleus's attitude by looking at his relationships with Lilia and Yuu, then proceed into discussing related behaviors.

I believe it's indisputable that Lilia is one of the most important people to Malleus. Lilia trained him, taught him, and trained him. He is basically Malleus's father figure. The fear of losing Lilia is what causes Malleus to emotionally spiral and take drastic measures in a desperate attempt to avoid that unhappy ending. His entire motivation for unleashing his UM is "not losing [Lilia]!" You would think that if Malleus was going to be possessive of anyone, it would be with Lilia. But the truth of the matter is... he's mostly just... not? Lilia is a very sociable person in the student body. He's frequently gaming with Idia, taking care of or lending wisdom to others (Silver, Sebek, etc.), hanging out with Cater and Kalim in their club, interacting with dorm leaders and freshmen when Malleus is absent for ceremonies, and more--yet Malleus doesn't seem to express any jealousy over sharing Lilia. I'd also like to add that although Malleus lacks parents, he doesn't really show envy over Lilia treating and calling Silver his own son instead of himself. Oh, Malleus certainly does express jealousy to some extent. Who would forget the time in his Dorm Uniform vignettes when he crushed Lilia's phone? The thing is though, the times when Malleus is upset are not fueled by not wanting to share Lilia or wanting to monopolize his time. In the previous example I cited, Malleus broke Lilia's phone because Lilia had received a picture Kalim and the other dorm leaders took after a meeting. Even the dialogue exchanged implies this; Malleus did not automatically get mad when he noticed that Lilia had a notification, he only got mad after realizing he was excluded from something the other dorm leaders were all involved in. Malleus was upset that he was not invited, not that Kalim was texting Lilia. Additionally, it is stated that the dorm leader must grant permission for others to use the lounge. If he wanted to, he could withhold the permission for Lilia, who wants the lounge for his farewell party (which everyone is invited to), or stipulate that he wants a more formal affair with just Diasomnia members present. Malleus doesn’t act in this possessive way though. He grants Lilia what he desires without issue.

Next up for scrutiny is Yuu! Now, there's some gray area here because part of Yuu's relationship with Malleus is defined by how much the player projects onto the self-insert/blank slate character. Please note that, when I discuss Yuu, I am leaving out individual interpretations and going STRICTLY by the information presenting in canon.

It can be said that Malleus slowly develops a fondness for Yuu's company over the course of the main story. At first, he is surprised and maybe even a little disappointed that someone has taken residence in Ramshackle--it used to be desolate, which makes it a perfect spot to visit on his nightly strolls. However, Malleus soon finds amusement in the fact that Yuu, not being of this world, has no clue who he is or what his status is. This grants him the freedom to speak at ease with this human and to "be himself" in a way that he cannot be with others, who typically cower at his name. You could also argue that Yuu telling Malleus they may have found a way home expedited the despair he felt in book 7, as he learned so quickly that two of his friends would be exiting his life soon. This, however, is not possessiveness. It's normal to have fear and anxiety about losing the people you love.

Malleus's voice lines also do not indicate possessiveness. Yes, there's the usual and expected fanservice-y lines where he invites Yuu to come and engage in various activities with him, but nothing in those suggests he would exclude others or become upset if they also wanted to join. (Are you telling me that Malleus wouldn't want to talk for hours on end about the glory of gargoyles to TWO people instead of just one?????) Additionally, all the characters get similar fanservice-y lines, so it's not something exclusive to Malleus. There was one line that gave me pause: "You always seem to attract a crowd... More so than I'd like, really." Buuut I think this could be read a number of ways, not solely in an ‘I want you all to myself’ way. Malleus actually does like to be alone, hence his nightly strolls. The line can therefore also be read as Malleus enjoying solitude or one-on-one conversations as opposed to addressing a group. In that case, it's a personal preference and not necessarily a sign of possessiveness. He’s definitely not completely averse to group activities though; there are lines where Malleus invites Yuu to do things with him and other characters. For example, from his PE Uniform: “Sebek has been badgering me to help train him. I'll permit you to join us. ... You're coming, I trust?”

The guy generally doesn't get angry or annoyed if Yuu mentions having other friends or managing the 7 member VDC/SDC group. In fact, he sometimes encourages Yuu to interact with others. One of his birthday lines is, "You needn't linger and focus on me to the exclusion of others. I want everyone to enjoy the party, yourself included." Malleus doesn’t so much as flinch or react when a complete stranger kisses the back of Yuu’s hand either. If he was truly possessive, wouldn’t he have gotten angry or—at the very least—have frowned or tried to put some distance between Yuu and said stranger? Yet Malleus doesn’t really react or comment on it despite being present.

Malleus seems to understand that it's not very polite to demand all of someone's time or attention--and this makes perfect sense of his character. He is a royal, and that means he was taught proper manners. Malleus has even indicated before that his grandmother stressed the importance of observing etiquette, particularly around invitations. You don't just invite yourself to functions or insert yourself into others' lives if not extended said invites... and Malleus, for the most part, adheres to those rules. In various voice lines, he even frets over committing social faux pas, wondering if he has offended his peers with certain behaviors. For example, from his Masquerade Dress: "Flamme shoots me stern looks on occasion. Have I behaved improperly in some way...?"

Malleus is also not generally possessive when it comes to his items or territory. He wants to share cake with others; eating a whole one gave him heartburn and now whole cakes are his least favorite food. Additionally, he tends to welcome people to Diasomnia rather than chase them out or expel them. (After all, they so rarely get visitors in the first place.) Malleus will at least hear out the reasoning for seeking him out. As an example, Leona (someone who has had a rocky history with Malleus) goes to Diasomnia in his Ceremonial Robes vignettes to exchange robes after a laundry mix-up. This is a stark contrast to the highly territorial Leona, who attacks a magicless human in thd Botanical Garden and also allows his own students to wail on Yuu and co. for simply walking being in Savanaclaw. Leona joins in on this bullying too. I think it's pretty clear that Malleus handles guests with far more tact, grace, and patience than his fellow prince.

I want to point out that though Malleus is usually amicable with guests, there are exceptions. Ramshackle, as I mentioned earlier, is a place he enjoys a lot. He indicates in his Halloween Dress card that “If anyone dares to damage [this] dorm, I will be as a lóng and reduce them to cinders. I have become rather fond of that place, after all.” Indeed, he does act on this promise in Terror is Trending and comes close to striking down Magicam Monsters for disrespecting a place he holds so dear. Is this possessive though? Yes, it’s a place he loves—but it’s also a place where his friend Yuu lives.

There are many other examples of Malleus going to extreme lengths to protect the things he loves. He vows to destroy Rollo Flamme, who poses a threat to his people, the fae (who depend on magic as their way of life, and the sentient gargoyles, whom he has recently befriended. He unleashes his mighty magic to attack those who wound his pride. He stops time and kidnaps the entire student body all for the sake of including ghosts in a Halloween celebration. And, of course, he sends Sage’s Island to sleep in a desperate bid to stop losing everyone. The majority of these behaviors involve him lashing out at those who pose legitimate threats to things he cares about. It’s not as though be is acting for no discernible reason or because he is doesn’t want his loved ones being with people other than him. Does that make these actions right? No, absolutely not. But I would say they are definitely more protective than possessive.

Very rarely is Malleus actively preventing his peers from spending time away from him. Sure, he gets upset that he’s not invited to join them and sure, he wishes people would invite him too—but there’s a difference between longing and being mopey about this and acting so domineering he’s breathing down the necks of others to only be with him. He is not stopping people from being with their friends and family. He is not stopping people from using his things or entering his territory. Even when he makes everyone sleep, he grants them the space to craft their own dreams and doesn’t even make the dreams center around him and his own involvement on their lives. Oftentimes the dreams involve several other characters that are important to the individual dreamer and Malleus does not appear at all. (Again, this doesn’t mean using his UM was the best move to resolve his issues; I’m just saying his actions were not necessarily possessive.)

So, in conclusion, I stand by the thesis at I proposed at the start of this post: Malleus is largely protective, not possessive, despite what many fandom interpretations would have you believe.

[meraki-sunset]

so your crow strider au gave me inspiration for my own au, but i've built up the idea in my brain so much that now im scared to try to put it to paper (oops) did you ever deal with this while making crow strider? (and if you did, how you got over it would be much appreciated thanks fhdjks) also your art is cool :]

Hi, sure, i encountered a few blocks when writing CSAU and other projects. I think my method comes down to a couple rules

You need to know how the story ends from the start, so everything in the story leads to the end. Things can change about the contents of the story as you write it and you change your mind about the events that will transpire in it, but you need an end goal you can build your story towards. Most importantly, this is what allows you to add foreshadowing for said ending and structure the narrative in a clear direction. Otherwise, you might come up with a cool ending too late and regret some choices from past chapters that now don’t help this new ending you want

On that same note (and i’ll proceed to copy and paste from an old post) You need to have a Word document with a rough timeline of the events from start to finish. You need to know how it ends from the beginning and how they get there. It can be really, really vague, but it has to be there. It can go like

. They start the game, the trolls bother them.

.both games go to hell

.scratch

.trip, develop relationships

.new set of kids/teen drama

.old kids they get there

.to hell again

.John retcons everything

.new timeline

.they win

And that's homestuck simplified, Those are your Acts. With them, you will know where you're going and if you need to change something earlier. Everything will be constantly up to change of course, but you will be going from point A to point Z more easily.

From there, you go to every point in that list and create a Word document for all of them. I have them in different folders to have every act separated and in order.

A folder for each Doc for every Act, Numbered, and in each one make more lists like that one telling what happens, for example

WordDoc1 - ACT 1 "They start the game, the trolls bother them"=

.John needs to get his game

.introduce Rose

.introduce the trolls on pester chats

. John gets the game

.introduce Dave

.etc

And those are your chapters. Now you can know the extent of what you want to do and if it makes any sense.

I addition to that, every Folder can contain not only the Word document for the Act but also relevant texts and art that are connected to the Act, so evey folder is all about that specific act and any inspiration for it.

Another piece of advice I can give you is to hint at anything important. That's a rule of comedy; actually, the comedian usually closes the show with something related to the first things they said.

That works for everything, and makes people go, "Oh the thing! The meaningless thing they said earlier, it was a clue all along!"

Interconnect it like a web, and that web will stop the story from falling

Homestuck is so ridiculously interconnected that you lose track of the stuff and objects that repeat that have no way to be where they got to be, songs and people and events that are too similar to not be connected but nobody addresses, things like that make it feel like you're dealing with a universe and not just a line of events.

3. Yet another thing, it's something I'm still trying to assimilate, and is that less is more, sometimes things don't need to be said, specialy not bluntly, and an expression, a gesture, a flinch can summarize them. Backgrounds can be reduced, and ideas can be conveyed.

one example is, In homestuck, it's never said that Dave was raised with lack of food. He never sais it, but it's shown in how happy he was to find a warm bottle of juice in his closet, how there is only weapons on the kitchen and no sign of food, how he later sais he never learned what the purpose of a fridge was until he saw it on tv. If someone is lacking something, don't have them say, "i grew up without X thing" show what filled that space in the absence of X thing.

Instead of some character saying, "My dad was never there for christmas" have them say how they thrited for presents at the local goodwill, payed with their lawn mowing money and put the presents under the tree themselves for their siblings and mom.

4. Something that I always have in mind when writing the dialogs and sketching the scenes, is

"I have an idea; what's the easiest way for someone to get the idea, to get the feelings i want to transmit from the idea?" I made the art something I could handle drawing hundreds of times, simplified the coloring, the aspect symbols, the way I draw backgrounds, the way I write dialogs, etc.

That will save you time and work and could prevent you from getting stuck with a project too big to handle

5. This is the most important one: The first draft’s only purpose is to exist.

Writing is like playing darts sometimes; you only get closer to hitting the center by missing it and learning what not to do. That’s an actual rule on animation and a motto on the Disney office. “Get it wrong as quick as you can,” because when you learn what you’re doing wrong is when you start learnign what doing it right means.

If it helps, title your first draft “the dumb version,” because that’s what it is—the version to get the idea out of your head, and then you built over it.

On the same note, once you write "the dumb version" don’t correct it. Rewrite it. It’s annoying, I know, i know, but fixing and fixing a text only carries the mistakes from the first draft, and everything looks kind of disconnected, because it ends up being a Frankenstein text of all the versions of the story mixed together.

This also applies to art; that’s how I handle both writing and drawing; if it’s not working, hold onto the core idea, new page, restart.

Rewriting it puts it in perspective; it feels like a text of its own, with a clear intent in mind.

I think that’s all I have. Making a story is mostly about managing your strengths and weaknesses, organizing and not being scared of it not being perfect.

Hope this helps.

[kpop]

K-Pop Spotlight: DAY6

Come one, come all to a K-Pop Spotlight that is sure to dazzle and delight ’til the final curtain. This week, all eyes are on DAY6 following the release of their eighth mini-album, Fourever, and brand new title track, "Welcome to the Show." We caught up with the band to discuss their goals as they approach their 10th anniversary and their ever-growing connection to their fans through their music. Check out our full interview below!

Tracks like “Welcome to the Show,” “The Power of Love,” and “Get The Hell Out” seem to have very different themes. Can you tell us a little about how these songs relate to each other and what aspects make this album cohesive?

SUNGJIN: As we pursue the idea of being a 'band that sings every moment,' it seems like our albums, including the recent one, prioritize diversity in songs and situations rather than unity. Consequently, our albums contain various genres and narratives. However, there seems to be a commonality in most songs, depicting situations that everyone has either gone through or might experience.

Young K: First and foremost, I would say this album is a compilation of the best songs we could create. There's definitely a theme of love running through it. "Welcome to the Show," "The Power of Love," and "Get The Hell Out" all talk about the concept of love.

What goes into creating titles for DAY6 songs and albums, especially those that don’t come directly from your lyrics? Do you find it hard to condense the intentions and themes of a song into a title?

Young K: While there have been cases like that, all the songs on this album came from the lyrics. Sometimes, when choosing a title, we select the one that best describes the song—other times, we choose to give it a twist or make it more intriguing.

WONPIL: Naming songs involves a lot of deliberation. We often contemplate which title will catch the eye and capture the song's essence. Usually, we try to take it from a verse in the chorus. This can be a challenging part of the songwriting process.

Is there a creative project you’ve always wanted to work on but haven’t gotten the chance/found the time?

SUNGJIN: I'm very curious, and have a principle of "trying to experience as much as possible." There are so many things I want to try musically and personally, especially among the things I know but haven't tried yet.

DOWOON: I hope we can have a song that we can collaborate on with My Day, like a choir.

What does your work/studio setup look like? Where do you feel the most creatively inspired?

DOWOON: We try to keep the studio as tidy as possible and make it comfortable for practice sessions.

WONPIL: When working on songs, we talk a lot. We get inspiration from little conversations, joking around, sharing stories, and listening to music from various eras regardless of genre while giving opinions. We also try to build emotional connections with the songs. There’s a lot of communication going on. The songwriting process takes place in the studio of our long-time collaborator, composer Hong Jisang, with whom we've been working together since our debut.

How do you want to evolve as a musician/producer?

Young K: I want to be eagerly anticipated and awaited as an artist. Without those who wait for us, we wouldn't release or even step onto the stage. So I’m always thankful for My Day.

WONPIL: My biggest goal is to make good music for My Day and the public, so I think I'll continue to ponder. When working on songs, I pour my sincerity into them. I constantly strive to express this sincerity musically, fully capturing the emotions I want to convey. I hope to create songs that can still be listened to even after 10 or 20 years.

Design your own Tumblr blog: choose an aesthetic, a blog name, and would you be a frequent poster or lurker?

SUNGJIN: I think I’ll use it to catch up on friends' updates. For the blog name, THUMB BLUR sounds good to me. I might end up being a lurker who never posts.

DOWOON: Maybe a blog for plants? I think I'll post it like a diary.

Want more DAY6? Check out their new mini album Fourever and the music video for the title track “Welcome to the Show,” both out now!

[aliceramblez]

Dating The BB League Elite Four + Kieran 💕

Tags: GN! Reader, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Teal Mask & Indigo Disk Spoilers!

A/N: After finally getting dragged into the Pokémon rabbit hole, I honestly couldn't resist in doing one of these for my babies! Scarlet/Violet is my very first Pokémon experience, so hopefully I did these characters justice ^^

Feel free to follow my main @taruchinator & leave a request for future HCs!

Crispin 🔥

He's such a dork and incredibly quirky but don't you worry, he'll definitely be the one to ask you out first, no matter how many attempts it takes. Not like you'd say no to begin with.

As a partner, he's the kind of guy who would always try to cheer you up and have you in a happy mood, because when you're happy, he's happy! Anything from compliments, to jokes, to just giving you lots of affection.

Which brings us to the fact that he's huge on PDA. And the funny thing is he doesn't even realize he's doing it—he'll lean on you when you're showing him something in your Rotom Phone, rubbing circles on your palm when you're talking about your day, placing his chin on your shoulder while talking to the other club members—this man is all over you.

During your stay at Blueberry Academy, don't you dare spend your precious money on the cafeteria, he's got you covered. He'll ask you and learn about your tastes, creating new recipes and concoctions just for you, hoping to surprise you with something better and nutritious every day!

If you had a long day of training and doing BBQs, Crispin always comes by and makes sure you had a meal. And you better not be lying to him.

“Man, you've been out all day! Did you even have lunch?”

“.... I had a granola bar.”

“HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?”

It's safe to say that Koraidon/Miraidon adores him, and even makes you question whether it's you or your Pokémon who's dating him.

After you started going out, Crispin now makes sure to carry sandwiches with him at all times. Mostly for your oversized lizard boy, but also for you in case you need a quick snack to recharge. The legendary Pokémon is quick to thank him with licks and constant slobbering which always leaves the red-head a mess, but he tries to not let it bother him for your sake.

Whenever you guys aren't training, you'll be in your dorm rooms cooking and having laughs with your Pokémon over how clumsy they can be in the kitchen.

Overall, a sweet and supportive goofball who'll make sure you're always smiling and never have an empty stomach!

Amarys 👓

Obviously Amarys isn't the best at conveying her emotions. It doesn't mean she doesn't care, she just has a hard time figuring them out sometimes! Which is why it's incredibly strange to her when she starts having these weird sensations whenever she's around you.

She feels happier, her stomach gets all jumbled when you compliment her, and her minds always finds a way to drift back to you no matter what she's doing.

She ends up asking Carmine about it, who immediately gets all giddy and explains to her that she might have a crush. Amarys is surprised, but not against the idea. It makes sense in retrospect—cue bestie Carmine giving her pointers and ideas to try and confess to you.

Unfortunately it's all a bit too convoluted or cheesy for the Steel-Type user's liking, so she ends up doing it her own way.

One day after club activities are over, she asks if you can stay a bit longer to talk. “After much deliberation, it would seem that I have caught romantic feelings for you. I propose a casual outing so we can discuss these in further detail. Do you agree?”

It doesn't take long for you two to start going out.

Amarys shows affection through small gestures that may not seem like a lot to others, but you know they're huge steps for her. Sharing her food when you're hungry, giving you advice on how to raise your Pokémon properly, helping you study subjects you aren't that good at—the list goes on.

PDA isn't her strong suit at all. Physical affection in general isn't something she's used to, and she's forever grateful that you don't push her to do things out of her comfort zone. She tries though, and will do things like brush her hand against yours or even give you a hug whenever she's feeling bold.

To an outsider you're both an unconventional couple, but manage to make it work with trust and constant communication. Give her some time and she'll warm up to you.

Lacey 🧚‍♀️

A sweet cutie who doesn't really change her attitude towards you even after you start dating, since she's always loved having you around. The two of you also confess at the same time, which leaves you as a pair of giggling messes at the irony of it.

Is your number one cheerleader when it comes to school academics. You may not be an official Blueberry student, but that doesn't mean you should be slacking in your classes! If you don't understand the material, don't you worry, she's already prepared a slideshow presentation going over it point by point. Will also reward you with kisses if you pay attention!

Lacey isn't huge on PDA either since she thinks it's unnecessary, but when it's just the two of you, she will never let go. You have successfully replaced Granbull as her favorite pillow of choice, since whenever you two have time off and she's tired, you'll probably take a snooze under a tree in the Coastal Biome.

When you get to meet her father, she's actually a bit nervous since she's never thought of dating before finishing school, but you try and be brave and reassure her that you'll try your best to give a good impression. He thinks you're alright, but gives you the good old father talk to make sure you won't hurt his little girl.

Will find ways to dot your Legendary lizard ride with gifts and affection since she thinks he's just too darn stinking cute, but don't worry, she still thinks you're the cutest!

Since Lacey's constantly worrying about things getting done around the League Club, it's your duty as her partner to get her to relax from time to time. You'll do your best by offering to share responsibilities and reminding her that breaks are very much needed.

“Sweetie it's nighttime, you can finish in the morning. I'm tired and need cuddleeeess.”

“Just one more page and I'll be done—”

“Please Ms. Lacey! I need your cuteness to have a good night's sleep!”

“F-Fine, I'm coming! Flattering me to get what you want is just not right, ya know?”

Truly an iconic duo.

Drayton 🐉

Let's get one thing straight: this man doesn't confess—heck, he doesn't even ask you out! One day he just has his arms around you and plants a kiss on your cheek claiming that he'll follow your every command, all with a cheeky grin on his face. You're more than welcome to punch him for it and he'll still come crawling back.

Like most things in his life, Drayton takes your relationship slow and steady, not really wanting to push your boundaries (unless he wants to tease you) and having no rush to progress things. He's just a chill guy who wants to claim you before anyone else does.

Don't be mistaken though, this doesn't mean he doesn't care. You'd be surprised how much he looks out for you, almost borderline overprotective in some cases. After everything that happened with Terapagos in Area Zero, he's constantly making sure you have strong Pokémon, supplies, and good company to survive the crazy adventures you get mixed up in.

You guys' ideal date is spending time together in the dorms after school hours, kicking back and relaxing with a movie or just talking about stuff that happened during the day. He's surprisingly a very good listener.

It's from these laid back conversations that he gets ideas for random gifts to get you. Did you need a new pair of gloves cause the old ones ripped? Some are waiting in the club room. You're running low on potions? A box full of them appears on your doorstep. Want to visit your friends in Paldea but can't find the time? Turns out Drayton took over your assignments for the day so you're free to go!

You're also the only person he'll allow himself to be tutored by. Will literally not listen to anyone unless it's you. Which is why you try to make sure the material is easy for him to digest + it's not boring typical schoolwork, but something he'll actually enjoy.

“Okay! Today we're going over math! Let's have a battle in the Polar Biome so you can see how probability applies in critical hits and such.”

“Aww, my honey is catering to my needs? Aren't you the sweetest thing?”

“No kisses until we're done, Drayton.”

“Alright, aye aye boss!”

He's an idiot, but he's your idiot.

Kieran 🍎

This boy has had a crush on you ever since you first met in Kitakami, but never had the courage to say anything since he was so shy. Now however, he doesn't say anything because he feels like he doesn't have the right to.

After everything he's put you through—from accusing you of stealing Ogerpon, to fighting you in an all out battle, to straight up putting you and everyone else in danger just because he wanted a chance at getting a Legendary Pokémon—Kieran doesn't think he deserves to be your friend, let alone your partner.

Carmine is there as his wingwoman though, cheering him on and telling him how much you appreciate him and clearly return his feelings.

And so, mustering as much courage as he can, he asks if you'll trade Pokémon with him. When you agree, he brings out an Applin, which immediately leaves you blushing but also spreads a huge smile on your face. The two of you officially start dating.

Kieran does is absolute best to try and be the boyfriend you deserve, even though it's his first relationship and he has no idea what he's doing half the time. The members of the League Club are surprised at first, but ultimately support you guys all the way!

You spend time together sharing battle strategies and having your Pokémon playing to try and get along. Turns out Ogerpon and Hydrapple become fast friends by the end of a particular play date, much to your delight.

He's not good at PDA, like, at all. He's still that shy and timid kid from Kitakami underneath it all, so he struggles with initiating affection even when it's just the two of you. You're the one who has to start the hugs and kisses, leaving him like a puddle of goo under your grasp.

Nightmares still plague him occasionally, mostly revolving the journey to Area Zero and how it all could've turned out for the worst if by some chance Terapagos decided to attack someone else. Maybe even you. If you're with him when they happen, you'll hold him tight and whisper sweet nothings into his ear until he calms down, or if he calls you to make sure you're okay, you'll stay on the phone with him until he falls asleep again.

“I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...”

“It's okay Kieran. We're both okay, and that's all that matters.”

You two are the power couple that Blueberry Academy never expected, but deep down, you're just a pair of dorks who fawn over each other on a daily basis.

[ashcroft-writes]

Thoughts on Cad Bane in Tales of the Underworld

I almost never post analyses of my fave fandom things! But I've been thinking about nothing but this show for a solid 24 hours, haha. Honestly, I've been pretty light on sharing my thoughts on the beloved blorbos previously because I don't often care for engaging in the hot take trading in Star Wars fandom... and I also know things tend to grow on me over time, even if something bothers me at first. I’m also in times when people like me worry for their lives and futures, so the me that shows up for Star Wars anymore honestly just wants to have a little fun with it and appreciate what these creative teams manage to do, especially today, when I get Cad Bane content so enchantingly rarely!

BUT, these episodes definitely had a big effect on me. So I've sat with them a little, let ‘em roll around in my head, and though there’s parts of the narrative I think I would have also liked to see… what was done with this story, I ultimately really enjoyed.

But let's dig in deeper, because it IS fun.

THE RELATIONSHIP

Alright, to get it outta the way, anything that involves showing a past relationship for a character seems to set off a bomb inside fan heads. And as a queer writer with an MLM Bane series, some folks have seemed to kind of want to feel me out on this one!

Honestly, the Bane and Arin relationship intrigued me, and I like her.

But first, before I dig into why, I have seen some folks uncomfortable with the idea of a character that's had a blank slate backstory past now being given a "love interest," so I'm going to speak to that first. What is presented here doesn’t change all that much about what we know of Bane as a character—this was a relationship that was definitely physical and involved SOME sort of emotional attachment, but that's about all that was said, and I don't see how it really threatens most interpretations of Bane. Yes, even and especially the queer ones. One can write Bane and/or Arin with any earth-equivalent sexuality, gender, or romantic preferences (or lack thereof) that you choose and these interpretations would still work within this canon information (if you even want to keep canon information in your works!) I've been looking at this relationship from the angles of queerplatonism, aromanticism, bisexuality, pansexuality, heterosexuality, gay with a confusing puberty, etc. etc. etc.. And that’s just if Arin is in fact a woman in the sense that many earth humans mean it.

There’s a lot of wide narrative holes for creatives to nest in here, and I'm really happy I can say that, because I'm already building a nest. And, besides all THAT, Bane’s a cowboy alien?? Like. I think we should all keep getting weird with it, because he SURELY would be up to things outside of our earthly human day-to-day perspective.

So yeehaw. Do Whatever You Want Forever!

Moving on.

THOUGHTS ABOUT ARIN HERSELF

I really like her. I love the idea of this young person who was kind, who was trying to pull Cad back from the worst parts of his nature, who was wiser than he was about the possibilities of a future past the violence of their world. That is part of what my own OC Nuni was when I wrote him. And now in canon, there were at least two people—Arin and Niro—both trying to pull Cad back from his fixation on gold and blood, and I like that theme!

Was I curious how Cad and Arin came together…? Yeah. Of COURSE. But I know this was limited time we had, and decisions were made about how to convey the most telling details in shorthand and the story in broad brushstrokes—so here, I settle for the subtle body language, which honestly was very deliberately rendered. It’s clear Cad is attached on some level to Arin; the way he works easily alongside her and doesn’t leave her behind when the going gets tough isn't without meaning at all. For him, it seems as close a relationship as he's able to have. But a lot of their interaction regardless comes across as a very Cad way of handling someone, especially while younger, rasher, his anger hotter. He doesn’t confide in her, he snips, he barely listens. He hardly looks at her or even touches her, though her own gaze is often on him, analyzing, hoping, bidding for him to let go of what doesn’t matter. But he doesn’t consider her needs for a single second as more important than him coming out on top. And this… this was a relationship I’ve seen before in life, in which one side is too focused on what they’re chasing to properly, truly notice the other person, even if some facet of having the other person around comforts them. I couldn't help but wonder if Arin was indeed startled by how easily Cad hugged Niro, when Cad just doesn’t seem to be like that with anyone else that we see, not even her. So yes, his and Arin’s relationship was strange, one-sided, with so much unspoken… but it was a lot we can glean from very little.

I wish in some ways that Arin had still been alive in the final episode, but I am sensing perhaps why it was decided that she wouldn’t be. There’s a narrative hole here I’m going to have to speculate inside, but—when Bane returns an unspecified amount of time after he was arrested, he’s grown up a fair amount. Got new scars. He has crew coming to meet him as if they want to give loyalty, when he didn't exactly come across as Lazlo's second in command previously. And now, the community council seems like they’re wetting their pants about him showing up, and they ALL know and seem to fear his name, whereas when he was arrested, they absolutely didn’t.

Frankly, the writing seems to imply that there was some serious stuff that happened in the interim between when they arrested him and he made his way back to his old stomping grounds. I don't know if it was a situation in which Bane still managed to make trouble from inside his cell, pulling strings, or if there were periods in which he was free, then arrested again.

But either way, Arin was left behind for a long while, just like Niro was once. Enough for Cad to get up to his own mischief, forge at least some part of his intimidating legacy. But again, he’s been so sucked into his own workings that the world he left behind moved on without him. I don't think he ever says that he was coming back for Arin when he does arrive; that’s a guess everyone ELSE is throwing around. He’s seemingly just there to settle accounts in general, and the mention of Arin having married Niro just seems to stick him in the pride. Either way, he's come back far too late to have done anything about it. They've both long moved on, and he wrote her off as a traitor long ago. Arin's had a life alongside a kinder person, and now is gone, and perhaps Cad could have tried to learn anything at all about what had happened before now, found a way for someone to bring him intel, wrote a letter, etc. But he didn’t.

He only returns to old places in this story when it’s time for revenge.

I think it fits his character fairly well, so unwilling to deal with these emotional difficulties that any question of Arin he still held in his heart was answered by a life fully lived without him, one he stayed ignorant of until it came back to needle his ego. The fact that Arin is dead isn't the point. It was that he didn't know she was dead, years gone. If that isn't a character statement, I don't know what is.

So yes, despite the missing parts, Arin is a character I like. I see some folks mentioning the concept of her being “fridged,” but I personally don’t think that entirely fits. Fridging is… specific. She wasn't there in the story only to die of violent or sad means, all to inspire the protagonist into having character development. Conversely, Arin doesn’t pass the Bechdel test, no, and I wish she did! Regardless, the tragedy is that Arin DOES have agency and uses it to live, not die—and her sacrifice doesn't inspire or change Cad, because he was hurtling down into the dark all on his own. She chose to end the violence, defy Cad and steal his gun because she’s kinder and wiser than he is, and knows how to let go and move on. She only died after having lived a life she chose, even an offscreen one, Cad’s choices be damned. I can’t call it a fridging. I do still wish she had more time to tell us more about who she was, but I suppose fic is here, and I’m just going to have to write something about it sometime.

CAD BANE’S SON

I yelled when he appeared. Jfc what a cute kid. This story also told us Cad was a cute kid too. And the narrative spares neither of them. :(

I’m going to get it out of the way: the only thing, literally the only thing, I am having difficulty accepting about this story is the kid’s name. Isaac. What? What?? EXCUSE ME. IS THE BOOK OF GENESIS IN STAR WARS?? I’m going to need ten linguistics and history enthusiasts in my replies immediately so we can figure out what the hell happened culturally with the Duros and Judaism in a galaxy far far away.

BUT I DIGRESS. This kid Isaac looked into my soul with those big eyes and I opened a door in my heart for him and now I’m in hell, so whatever I guess.

I AM IN HELL AHHHHH.

But. The moment when Cad looks in that kid’s eyes and knows EXACTLY who the father is was almost startling. Like, he even reaches out for a second. Just a split second. It’s this razor-sharp shard surprise-cutting him inside his moment where he thought he was just wrapping up all the loose ends. All that gloating to Niro about “I’ll take care of him like you did Arin” had so little real caring behind it that I doubt it was any kind of real promise.

But it’s then that Cad sees. For one of the few times in this story, Cad looks into someone else’s eyes outside of himself, and he properly sees them.

And he reaches out.

But that’s shut down fast. The interfering mayor clearly knows who Isaac comes from, just like Cad knows now. And neither of them say anything about it, but their understanding is clear, and Cad walks away, quietly agreeing, perhaps, that it’s the right move to do so. What he’s become can’t help this kid in any meaningful way. He’s just made another abandoned orphan like he was, and who knows what kind of life is in store for that child now?

Obviously, later in canon, Cad will have a go at helping another kid’s journey, mentoring Boba Fett. I wonder if, perhaps, he did it to try and prove to himself he could, gnawing inwardly over what happened on this day with the son he’ll now never know.

After all, he's not very good at letting things go.

THE STORY IN GENERAL

I’m kind of working backwards with my thoughts, from this very specific musing regarding the important relationships to the larger story... I haven't even gotten into Niro! Did you see that moment where Cad was the one to hug him, and he couldn't quite manage to do it back? When the last time they saw each other, he was the one being abandoned? How he faced Cad in person, and so is NEVER the person running away to save himself? I am gently patting this Duros' face. Excellent. But. I am going to have to wrap this up eventually and save any other thoughts for later.

At the end of the day, there was a lot inside this short little visit into Bane’s life that really delighted me. The scores of different Duros characters (shoutout to the guy in that giant hat, hahaha. LOVE A DUROS IN A GIANT HAT <3) The love given to the modeling, texturing, and overall craft of this production... all my love to the Star Wars animation team. The small look at the culture in the area Bane lived in as a child. The way he discourages his friend from buying a little toy their hearts clearly want, in favor of that which is practical. That moment when child Bane gets a taste of what money can do, hungry, licking the box clean that held his first real, good meal in a long time. The moment when Niro tries to get him to walk away from Lazlo’s scheme, and he immediately spins around and agrees it’s not worth it unless they’re paid twice as much—the budding negotiator!

Being fast, agile, sliding over the hood of a car as he runs from the cops.

Choosing to save himself, then the instant regret, lack of surety, fear—drowned in his first handful of gold.

The visual of him as an adult seeing his childhood self in the glass before shooting that thought right through the heart… the foreshadowing. Goddamn.

Like, I do have mixed feelings on some level. It was too big a story in too small a space. The first episode was plain excellent, but the latter two suffered from the broad brushstrokes preventing us from being able to get to know some of the new faces introduced, and raised a lot of questions about other things—truly, we never get to see what Lazlo comes to mean to young Colby, why he inspired a boy to become so like him. We never see when Colby decides to leave behind his old name and why. We never see where Todo comes from, or why Cad chose Arin to spend his time with. It also doesn’t show the why’s and how’s that made Cad Bane the Legend exceptional at what he is.

But it did give us tantalizing tidbits, the smallest pieces of the before-times we can explore more on our own. It showcased that Cad Bane's greatest strength as a bounty hunter, why he's so feared, is the precise fatal flaw that made his life the way it is: the fact that once he has the scent of his goals, he’ll never let go, not ever—he'll chase them from one end of the galaxy to the other to settle accounts, inexorable, deadly.

And it hasn't brought him happiness.

[yolli-es]

That was the last time

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, mental issues, mentions of blood, selfharm

At the request of one of the readers. I find this idea interesting. Also, I think you're already tired of my headcanons, so I wrote the text :3 I hope I was able to convey to you the idea I was thinking while typing this.

Jinx was sitting in her workshop, working on her bombs as usual. Before meeting you, Jinx never worried about time. Spending the entire night creating a useless trinket was not a problem for her. But not now. On the walls, on the table, on the floor, and even on the couch. Watches are everywhere, so Jinx always keeps track of time. It also helped her get into the habit of checking her watch. She did it again, as she had done many times before, when she suddenly realized that it was well past midnight and you were still not with her. She actually hasn't seen you for a little over two hours. Jinx breaks out in a cold sweat, and her body trembles. The realization made her jump and immediately run out into the street in search of you. In her head, Mylo and Claggor immediately started suggesting the worst-case scenarios. But now was not the time to panic; Jinx had to be stronger than them now. She knew without Mylo that you were probably in a terrible situation right now. You couldn't do something stupid again, could you? It could be fatal. And it will be her fault. Again. 

"It's your fault now."  

"Shut up, Mylo."  

When you officially started your relationship, Jinx knew it would be a hard and challenging time for the two of you, but she never realized how hard. 

Jinx ran and ran, knowing exactly where you were and what you were probably doing. You left "on business" a couple of hours ago, and she was only now thinking about the real reason. "I'm disgusting, disgusting, just useless," was going through Jinx's head over and over. It was too obvious; how could she miss it? The way you looked, the way you trembled and blinked awkwardly at her questions. It was so obvious this morning. You thought about it all day, fought with yourself, and she just did nothing; as always, she couldn't help. No, she just didn't want to. Mylo was destroying her for it right now, making her cry but not stop. She fought with her mind and thoughts just to get to the decrepit factory with only two floors. It's too old to use, but also too expensive to just tear down. It's just that no one needs it. That's why you're so drawn there? 

It took her another two miserable minutes to reach the farthest room on the second floor. It was dark, but the light from the lantern came through the right window, giving Jinx a chance to see the basics of the place. There was a complete mess around you—a bunch of paper, candles, and some junk. And you were lying on the floor, holding your knees with your back to Jinx. The air was heavy, the atmosphere oppressive, and only the sound of your breathing in the complete silence allowed Jinx to relax a little. 

Hey, Toots—Jinx began, walking up to you slowly, trying to catch her breath,—You didn't do anything wrong, did you? You didn't have to run away from me. 

You didn't answer, although you were startled by her sudden presence. You must have been too desperate and decided that she would never come.

—She’s become so persistent today—you answered very quietly, sometimes forgetting to breathe and simply suffocating—I just couldn't resist.

Jinx was finally close enough to see the small blood stains just inches away from you. Damn. She took a deep breath, trying not to burst into tears and become hysterical.

Unfortunately, Jinx wasn't the only one who suffered from voices in her head. However, while she had Claggor with his comforting words and encouraging words, you were all alone. Just you and "Alice," as you called her. A girl with long, white hair, always hiding her face, and significantly shorter than you. She had a sweet voice but cruel words. Alice hated you and longed to take your place. Because she was better. You described her so realistically, truly believing in her existence. Jinx realized that Alice was only in your head when you suddenly ran away from her in the middle of a conversation. Jinx asked you about it later, and you said that Alice took you away then.

Jinx understood you like no one else, so your peculiarity was not a problem for her. Until Alice began to cross the line and deliberately suppress your personality along with your body. At first, you behaved aloofly, often not hearing Jinx and awkwardly asking to repeat herself. Then you became irritable, and only after that Jinx found out about your cuts, which you did yourself. "Alice made me," is what you answered. Jinx tried to act radically, constantly repeating that it was only in your head and self-harm was just crazy. You almost broke up then. You were so angry and upset, screaming and tearing your hair out. And then you suddenly went silent and ran out of the workshop, leaving her alone. If Jinx hadn't decided to follow you then...

Enough time has passed since that incident that Jinx swore to herself never to make you feel so insecure and misunderstood again. But then she did it again yesterday afternoon. She's sorry, but you just crossed the line. Then she spent the whole day with you just to make sure you were safe.

And now she has to bear the consequences of her actions. And it's just unbearable. You look sick, almost dead.

It doesn't take long for Jinx to fly up to you and gently flip your body over. Your eyes are closed, your body is shaking, your hands are weakly clinging to her hand, and, worst of all, this time you went too far and cut your legs. Your arms were hurt too, even more than usual this time. One of the cuts was so deep that Jinx thought she could see the bone. It looked disgusting and simply awful, but Jinx was tormented only by fear and sadness. Your clothes were covered in blood, some of them torn into shreds and clumsily tied around your arm and leg. Maybe Alice had left at some point and the will to live had returned to you. But it was too late, and you didn't have the strength to help yourself.

What have you done?—Jinx sobbed, no longer able to hold on. Nothing matters now; there's only you and her. Fighting, voices, work, and everything else just don't matter.

Sorry—was all you could say before falling into a deep sleep. Now that Jinx is finally here, you are safe. Alice can't hurt you, definitely not now.

Jinx pulled you out of there as if in a fog. The street, the alleys, the workshop, the search for Shimmer, and, finally, salvation. Yes, Shimmer did a good job of coping with your suicidal antics, but alas, the scars remained. Jinx blames herself for all of this. She saw your condition, knew about your thoughts, and still did nothing. Even when your worsening condition was her fault. She is too busy with her own problems; Mylo and Claggor constantly put pressure on her. You cannot be a support for her, just as she cannot be for you. But she still does not give up trying to be there with you. Jinx still loves you too much to leave you, but not enough to focus on your problem.

Sure, you'll wake up in a couple of hours. You'll apologize with tears in your eyes, and Jinx will do the same. You'll live in harmony for another week, and then Alice will come back.

Jinx promises herself to be better, for the tenth time. Perhaps this situation taught two of you a lesson, and now you will support each other? Who knows.

I'm going back to yandere requests, I hope you're happy about it 🤭🥴

[vixensbrainrotts]

Lipgloss lover — Ken <Draken> Ryuguji

Content: fluffy imagine

Warnings: too much fluff

Tropes: established relationship, whipped! Draken

Summary: You really thought that he wouldn’t notice?

Vixen’s two cents: Hi! Here’s something based of a real life experience i had (i couldn’t figure out what the flavor of one of my friend’s lipglosses was after borrowing). I love Draken so much, so let’s celebrate my first Draken post together! Lmk if you like this, and if you have ideas for more little scenarios, my requests are OPEN!! Also, im currently on the hunt for moots to proofread and triangulate with! If you’re interested, please contact me <3. Now enjoy!

Ken furrows his brows after you’ve pulled away from the kiss and were now walking towards the refrigerator. He licks his lips precariously and smacks them a few times for good measure. Something is off about this.

“Babe!” He calls out to you, voice gruff and serious. You turn around a little startled and try to hide a smile when you see the frown on his face. “Everything all right?”

He shakes his head in response. “Mmh I don’t know. Something’s weird.” He waves you over expectantly, his wrist flicking fast to convey his urgency.

With a giggle you go over to him and stand between his legs where he was sitting at the table. “Yes handsome?” Your hand glides over both his shoulders, coming to scratch over his nape and up his scalp.

Draken hums in response, both hands sliding up your thighs and coming to rest on your hips, and tilts his head up to look at you. “Kiss me again.”

“Your wish is my command.” You whisper and lean down to meet him in the middle, and you feel his arms slither and tighten around your hips, his fingers tickling your stomach a little.

When you pull away again Draken’s eyebrows are still furrowed, lips still puckered to a pout. “You did something. What the hell is on your lips?” You laugh a little “What do you mean?”

“You taste different, normally you’ve got this whole cherry-coconut wombo-combo going on but now? Fuck me girl, kiss me again and lemme try ‘n figure out what you taste like.”

Your heart flutters a little and your smile widens a little, and you’re very happy to kiss him again. This time he pulls away “Gimme a tip, love. Do I know the taste? Have you had it before?” You smile and nod. “You know the taste yes, but I haven’t worn it before.”

“Fuck.” He mumbles and licks his lips, looking around the kitchen as if that would help. “You want me to tell you?” You ask him and his eyes snap towards you again immediately. “No. One more kiss and if I can’t figure it out then, sure.”

“Ok.” You Kiss him once more, and when you go to pull away this time, his lips chase yours and his arms tighten around your waist.

“Damn it Baby i don’t know. Hit me.” His eyes are still closed from the kiss and he lays his head on your stomach with a sigh. Lovingly, you card your hands through his hair. “Why would I hit you?!” You giggle.

“Hit me with the cold, hard truth.” Your smile widens knowingly at that, and you take a moment to soak in the comfortable silence with him in your arms.

“Green tea.” You state.

“Fucking what?!” His head moves away from your stomach to throw you a bewildered look, and he look almost offended. “How the fuck could I have known that? Green tea? Fucking cracky ass flavor no wonder I didnt guess it!” He complains whiningly, and you offer him a kiss to the forehead as consolation.

“So you dont like it?” You ask with a smile, fingers coming to caress his cheek bones. “Never said that, c’mere Girl.” You kiss him again, and again, and again…

[woosh-floosh-art]

Bits and Pieces: 2024

Went through all my 2024 files and here's all the stuff I didn't post!

Dragon Quest slimes... The idea was to do a slime gacha of some sort but... there's so many slimes man I can't draw them all.

Teeny Sanguini variations. The idea was to make a keychain of each teeny sanguini variation but.. that would cost a lot of money and I don't even know how well does keychains would sell. Maybe people just want basic teeny sanguini and I'm wasting my money buying other keychains.. Oh well. The basic teeny sanguini keychain I ordered has sold well, we'll have to see if I decide to order one of the variations.

Various Ouioui's. I think the goal was to eventually draw them all? I just needed something simple but with some room for experimentation to draw everyday. Early 2024 was a rough time for me.

Fan Ouioui design. This one is good. I would imagine the body of the thing would be a scrunchie so you can put it in your hair or on your wrist.

CMY(K) and spring dango themed galumpin dops.

PEARL DRONE!! The goal was to make stickers, that didn't happen lol. Still cute though...

Various little doodles I thought were cute. Badniks, two headed minecraft calf sticker concept (I didn't think it was very clear in it's design..), kirby :D, alien cow, and a true fact about aphids.

SA2 animal sticker gacha. Like I said, in early 2024 I was really looking for something simple and repetitive to draw with just enough variation to keep things interesting. Like the slimes and the ouiouis this one fizzled out. There was just TOO much variation. I ended up doing all of those gyroids which was perfect for the time and also sold really well as stickers! I also did all those damn kirby stickers which did NOT sell as well.

Okay enough about the grief and depression, let's talk about SONIC OCS!! I really loved the periodical cicada emergence this year so I wanted to make a sonic oc based on them. Her wings are crumpled (like many cicadas I saw this year, unfortunately her and the other cicadas will never fly) but she was some wisp powered roller blades to let her zoom around! I used to do a lot of character design as a teen but now I struggle with it. But I don't think this is that bad of a design? It's fun, she's fun.

Every year for artfight people make new characters based on the theme, and this year I wanted to try as well! He's supposed to be an anthropomorphic ray, a prince that must set out on an adventure! The eyebrow design is cuter but I think the widows peak design better conveys that he is supposed to be a ray. Bottom right is my favorite but I would switch the cutlass for the rapier. It's just a bit more of a princely sword.

Blue eyed cicada sticker concept. During the cicada emergence this year someone found a blue eyed cicada!! This is the mock up if I made stickers of that. I didn't because I was soooo sick of handcutting those damn cicadas, they were not easy to cut. Also they did not sell very well. We need more cicada fans in this world...

Lastly... two pages to a comic I never finished. It was supposed to be the prologue to my oc story but... it's a little scary making comics about original characters! There's a lot more to think about and manage over doing fan comics. I would still like to return to my little world and characters but I just haven't been in the mood for it. Ironically there was only one page left in the prologue but it's been so long I don't think I'm going to finish it!

Also, to try and combat the anxiety that comes with making an original story I didn't plan the layouts at all?? I guess to make the process faster and not worry as much?? The thumbnails in my sketchbook are just loose unconnected panels next to the script. That is not how I typically plan comics... and for good reason! Looks at the paneling in page two! It's bad! It's really bad!! When I come back to my characters I going to have to swallow my fear and put some more time and care into the layouts.

Okay that's all for 2024! I have a couple more things to post from December and then that's a wrap on 2024! Thanks for reading! ^_^

[lovieku]

GOOD LUCK, BABE! #1 ⋆ 정국

what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?

☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc

☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

☾ word count: 10.4k +

☾ warnings: female oc named eunbi. explicit language. alcohol consumption. lots of flashbacks. mentions of menstrual cycle. misogyny (not jk). jk is one year older than eunbi. jk is a biker!! he doesn’t have tats and piercings though, that will come later. they’re currently in uni. jk is a film production student. eunbi is a literature student. awful abuse of italics. check masterlist for more!

☾ author’s note: hello!!! this is my first time doing this so please bear with me! english is not my first language so there might be some mistakes, if so please let me know. just in general, feedback is very appreciated :) as i mentioned, i never posted on tumblr before nor wrote an au in english so im kiiinda nervous about this… but i swear ill try to bring my idea to life in the best way possible and i wont make you regret reading this hehe… Also!!! each chapter is named after a song that reminds me of them <3 i hope you come to love eunbi and jeongguk as much as i do, maybe with time… thank you !

indexㅣnext

one ⋆ come back to me

Sitting across the table, he stares at her. The light of the twenty birthday candles reflecting in her eyes, the people surrounding her, his own friends. As she’s blowing out the candles, he wonders what she wished for. Does she ever wish to go back in time? Does she think of him, of what once was? Does she regret what happened? Jeongguk scoffs at his own thoughts, looking away from what’s in front of him. It makes his blood boil. How could she just forget?

“Did you even wish Eunbi a happy birthday?” It’s Dahye blocking his line of vision now. He looks up from where he’s sitting, pout on his face and eyebrows slightly furrowed, “Why would I? Would she ever do the same for me?” She would. Jeongguk knows he’s being petty, but he can’t help it.

His friend rolls her eyes, unspokenly conveying just how tired she is of this constant snubbing between Jeongguk and the birthday girl, “So you came to her party to do what? Sit here and burn holes into her skull? Fucking grow up Jeongguk, you’re being childish.” She forces him to get up, but as he does he’s not sure he can handle this whole situation for much longer.

Everyone is hugging her, but it all feels so fake. Her smiles and squeals directed to everyone else but him. He doesn’t even know why he’s still here, doesn’t wanna be part of this farce. He feels out of place with his own people. Why did she have to ruin this one thing he had created? Why did she have to be so likeable to everyone? He can keep lying to himself, arguing that there’s no actual reason, but he knows first hand that it doesn’t take much to become fond of her. She could be spotted in a million people. She’s effortlessly glowing, radiating the light of a thousand stars, and the light burns everything. It burns his eyes, his skin, his heart.

Jeongguk has to look down at his hands as he squeezes them into fists, trying to make sense of what’s happening. He’s letting anger take over, but he knows deep down what he truly feels is sadness. Helplessness, even. He looks up just to find her staring back at him, and is he reading hope in her eyes?

He needs to get out. Being in her presence isn’t healthy for him, especially on what’s supposed to be her day, her night. He can keep being resentful, but he knows he doesn’t want to ruin that for her. Walking away from the table, he reaches the backdoor of the pub and searches for a cigarette in his jacket. Stress is clouding his mind and he just needs to relax. Breathe.

In his pocket, he doesn’t only find the pack of cigarettes he’s now desperately trying to open, but also a reminder of how delusional he truly is. Jeongguk stupidly thought he could maybe muster the courage to go up to her and give her a little gift, just a sign of politeness, he thought to himself as he fished it out of a forgotten memory box. He knows ever since they saw each other again they’ve been acting petty. Purposefully ignoring each other as if nothing ever was. He thought he could at least put an end to this. Hand her a bracelet he still keeps from their childhood as a request for a truce.

Jeongguk shakes his head and scoffs. He feels crazy. Insane, even. Is he really the only one thinking so much about how weird this whole new dynamic between them is? He knows they haven’t seen each other in years, of course things have changed, but why is she acting as if he is at fault? As if he’s the one who should apologise? He fumbles with the cigarette and struggles to keep it still in his mouth. Just then, he realises he doesn’t have a lighter on him.

”Fucking hell,” he looks up, maybe searching for help, talking to something greater than him. “Why do you hate me, God?”

”Bad day?” Jeongguk startles. He knows that voice. Turning around, he guessed exactly who it belonged to. She takes out a lighter and puts it between them, waiting for him to take it. Such a small gesture seems to mean infinitely more.

”Uh, thanks.” Jeongguk is aware of how pathetic he sounds right now, voice small and low. “Um, happy birthday. I guess.” I guess? What the fuck?

Eunbi chuckles, amused by the way he’s acting. He swears that makes him even angrier, he feels like fucking screaming. “Thanks. We’re eating cake. Come back there when you’re done?” She stands there a few more seconds, just staring at him. She expects Jeongguk to say something, anything. Even give her a smile, a nod of his head. None of that happens.

With her hair styled in a half ponytail, perfectly tied at the back with a white bow, she nods to herself and walks away, leaving the lighter in Jeongguk’s hand. He’s left speechless. That’s their first proper interaction after years. That’s all they could say to each other. He feels the hole in his chest, that he had managed to almost fully close, reopen at such a rapid speed, and he feels the urge to get out of that place immediately. Like hell he’s going back there.

Cigarette long forgotten, Jeongguk throws it somewhere in his jacket’s big pockets along with the lighter, and tries to make himself unnoticed while he frantically searches for the exit. Why the fuck are there so many people out drinking on a Monday night?

He feels bad for leaving his friends without any warning but he’s afraid one more second here could cause permanent damage to his brain. There's no point in staying any longer whatsoever.

“What a fucking waste of time.” Muttering to himself, he pushes the door open and walks ahead, keeping his head low while fishing for his bike keys in his jeans.

“Jeongguk?” Of fucking course, he thinks as his eyes close for a second, searching for the little patience he had left. Eunbi’s voice fills the much quieter parking lot outside the pub, the sound echoing and making him stop in his tracks, helmet already in his hands as he turns around.

“You're leaving?” If he didn't know her (and he would argue he actually doesn't anymore) Jeongguk would think there's a cloud of sadness in her voice. He slightly shakes his head and looks behind his shoulders. Scratches his head. Anything to escape what is happening.

“Yeah, it's quite late. I have a 9 a.m. tomorrow. Don't wanna miss it.” He's lying. He doesn't have lectures on Tuesdays, and even if he did, he's no stranger to skipping classes. He doesn’t care if the girl knows all about his ways. Hell, being in the same uni friend group doesn’t actually allow to really avoid seeing each other every fucking day of the week.

“Right,” she nods, kicking the pebbles under her feet. He notices she chose to wear Converses even under the flowy white mini dress she has on, and they still look like she never cleans them. Then she hesitates, “Wait a second? I’ll bring you a piece of cake to take home. It's your favourite, double chocolate.”

Jeongguk doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even give her a nod of his head. The birthday girl looks like she’s waiting for it though, some sign of reassurance. She’s left with none of that again, and figures she should be as quick as possible to avoid Jeongguk leaving without knowing she truly appreciated him being here.

He scoffs at the sight he catches a glimpse of through the pub’s window, the girl frantically recovering a piece of the dessert she claims she knows it’s still his favourite — it is. At that, he almost thinks of waiting for her. Almost. He doesn't, his petty nature taking over. He hops on the bike, helmet on, revving the engine to finally get the fuck out of there. No waiting, no warning. After all, it's not like she'd ever warned him before disappearing.

Jeongguk feels absent for most of the ride back to his cramped rented flat. Dissociated. Mind full of thoughts (and maybe regret) but body so relaxed and at ease because of the gentle summer breeze brushing his skin. It’s nights like these that take him way back, places in his brain that he’s sick of visiting. Jeongguk actually doesn’t remember a lot, doesn’t keep on too many memories of his past. Instead, he thinks he’s probably cursed with having every moment with her carved in his head, from the first time he saw her to the last.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Mom, I'm going outside!” A ten years old Jeongguk rushed down the stairs, hands full and voice shaking with excitement. Once again, he gathered as many toys as he could and his trusted camera to go play outside the porch.

Laying on the sofa, his mom was concerned Jeongguk would fall with how eager he was in his movements, “Alright baby, stay off the road though!” The apprehension was short lived, the woman letting a sigh out of her mouth, knowing taming little Jeongguk was mission impossible.

Nonetheless, Mrs. Jeon had always believed her son to be very intelligent for his age, both academically and emotionally. He had already developed a great sense of responsibility and empathy, especially towards his peers, so she never once doubted his actions.

On the other hand, Jeongguk felt a sense of loneliness. Being an only child during summer meant many things, one of them being the fact that he was bound to be alone most of the time since schools were closed. And so he would do what he liked the most. He would go out and film.

Usually, the subjects were his own mother, or father. But sometimes he enjoyed making scenarios on his own, pretending to be a great director and moving his actors — his toys — however he wanted, “One, two, three… action! We're rolling!”

His passion for photography and movies had grown increasingly over the past year, also due to him finding his new favourite thing ever in an old box of his dad, a Samsung SCD71.

As Barbie was about to finally kiss Ken under an imaginary stormy downpour, which Jeongguk was trying to make as believable as possible, a sudden noise had completely obscured the microphone of the camera, probably making the recording unusable. “What’s going on…” Jeongguk directed the camcorder towards the origin of the annoying sound, and through the lenses he caught sight of a moving truck that had just parked on the road. More specifically, it stopped in front of the house next to his, which he had learnt to be empty. Up to that day, apparently.

Curiosity had always been one of the most striking and dominant aspects of Jeongguk's personality, which he probably got from his dad. Camera hanging around his neck, he got up, hopped the fence and got closer to the truck, still careful not to get on the road, just as his mommy had advised him.

Jeongguk came closer, spotting a girl about his age carrying a box double her size. Her voice could be heard, even if suppressed by the weight of those items, “Mom, why do I need to carry these things, they're so heavy!” The girl whined fruitlessly, her mom going on about how she was just being dramatic, “Eunbi, just leave it on the porch and your dad will take care of it.”

To Jeongguk, it didn’t look like the kid was being dramatic. Those boxes seemed hard to even pick up. He bit his lip deep in thought, so much he didn’t even realise his feet moving on their own and getting even closer to the scene. Before he knew it, he asked, “Do you need help with that?” He felt the urge to lend a hand, just because that was in his nature.

The little girl was startled, almost losing balance at hearing a stranger’s voice directed at her. She couldn’t see who it was because of the box limiting her view, but she figured it didn’t belong to someone much older than her. When she put the carton down, she got confirmation that she guessed right. Still, her first instinct was defensive, “Huh? Who are you? And no, I don't need any help, thank you.”

It was Jeongguk’s turn to be startled. Initially left speechless, he tilted his head at being rejected when he was just trying to be nice. No problem, he’ll try again, “Oh, okay but… you were just saying the box is heavy?”

The snappy girl furrowed her brows, seemingly much mature for the age she was showing, “Yes, but that doesn't imply that I can't carry it.” Arms crossed, she looked proud of the reply she came up with, but really was just waiting for her dad to do something about the weighty box.

Tilting his head to the other side, Jeongguk reminded the girl of her little black poodle she had to leave back in her old town with her grandma. Big brown eyes and long hair, the boy pouted in thought, “Im- imply? What's that?” What can he say, he had always preferred scientific subjects.

“Whatever.” Eunbi — was that her name? — looked around in hopes to find her parents, who were inside, busy unboxing the most important items to get the long process of moving out started. When she stared back at the boy, she sighed, “I guess you can help me.”

Jeongguk chuckled contentedly, suddenly very pleased with carrying heavy things for a girl he didn’t even know. “What’s your name?” He tried to make conversation while they both went back and forth with the cartons, a silent competition between them on who was faster.

”I’m Song Eunbi… you?” Both too tired to keep carrying other stuff, they sat down on the stairs of the door to her new house, which she didn’t seem that excited about.

“Oh, I'm Jeon Jeongguk, I live next door. I came here because of the noise, heh.” He smiled a big one, showing his teeth and almost fully closing his eyes. That caused the younger one to smile too, starting to let her guard down. With the boxes out of the question, she noticed a big object hanging around his neck, “Woah… what’s that?”

She reached to touch the Samsung camcorder but he was quicker, grabbing it and tugging it to his chest in a protective manner. The pigtails girl retracted her hand, a slow pout coming on her face but not fully developing, because before that could happen Jeongguk had recovered with a jolt of his head, “Sorry, don’t like people touching it. It’s a camera. I use it to record and stuff. You wanna see?”

Eunbi didn’t reply, wary of the device in Jeongguk’s hand, and she just watched him maneuver it as if it was his job. When he gasped, she returned the attention to his face, “It was still recording. Forgot to turn it off…” He seemed more as if he was muttering to himself, but then he also shifted his gaze towards her.

Lifting the lenses up to his face, Jeongguk pointed the camera towards his — hopefully — new friend, “Do you wanna say hi?” He zoomed in and out, focusing on the background then on her. “Huh… hi.” She smiled sweetly and the boy remained on that view for more seconds than necessary, before ending the recording.

The initially grumpy girl seemed to share that same curiosity that characterised Jeongguk so well, because she eagerly started asking the older kid questions about the camera, and he easily complied.

They spent the next two hours watching Jeongguk’s self-directed short movies, in which Barbie was always somewhat saved by Ken; and then Eunbi was so inspired by that, she tore open her toy box and instructed Jeongguk just how to direct the sequel of one specific film he had showed her.

His mom was scared, to say the least. Opening the front door to call Jeongguk for dinner and not instantly seeing him. Panic, panic, panic. None of that was occurring in Jeongguk’s head, though. He was so excited to have new toys that he could use to fulfil his director dream, and Eunbi seemed happy too. Together, they created the most original stories that the only child could surely have never come up with on his own.

When Jeongguk thought he heard his mom’s voice, for the first time throughout those endless hours he lifted his head up from the camera. “Baby! Oh, thank God, I was so scared.” His mom came rushing towards him, holding his head to her chest.

Toys dropped to the ground, Jeongguk looked at his mother and the clear height difference made him also aware of how dark the sky had turned compared to when he first walked out his door.

“We were just about to come around!” At that exact moment, Eunbi’s parents walked down the stairs of their porch to greet Mrs. Jeon, “Our pleasure, you must be Jeongguk’s mom?”

The mentioned lady only nodded her head, anxiety still struggling to leave her body after thinking she just lost her only son. “I am… Um, I’m sorry about him,”

”No, don’t even!” Eunbi’s mom interrupted, “He’s been nothing but a sweetheart. We would love to have him, you and your husband over for dinner this week. We just moved in and it’d be nice to make friends.” She admitted, slightly embarrassed that her flow of thoughts made her say that out loud.

While the adults were sharing adults-stuff talk, Jeongguk managed to escape his mom’s embrace and go back to his new friend. He pointed the camera to himself, “I’m sorry, my dear public, but the movie has been interrupted.” Jeongguk announced with the saddest voice, looking over at Eunbi who nodded just as dramatically.

Now with the lenses on her, she sighed, “Yes, sadly. Will Barbie save Ken from the zombie apocalypse?” She sounded genuinely upset they didn’t get to find out, “I guess we’ll never know.”

They did find out. Made another four sequels that summer. Jeongguk will forever hold that to his heart as the best he’s ever had, the first time in his 10 years of life he spent the scorching season with a friend by his side, making the heat and the boredom bearable.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Are you even listening to me?” Jimin looks at Jeongguk, annoyance clear on his features when he notices the younger one isn’t paying attention to his rant about cafeteria prices being ridiculously high. They had decided to try and get some assignments done in a coffee shop that had just recently opened, but actually ended up talking about anything but university. Jimin waves a hand in front of the brown haired boy’s face, “Earth to Jeongguk?”

The mentioned boy shakes his head, lifting it from the palm on which he was resting his cheek, “Huh? Sorry, what was that?” Jeongguk hadn't meant to space out, but lately it seems like it's been easier to get lost in his thoughts. Jimin's eyes soften visibly as he sighs.

“It was nothing important,” now that the blonde guy has his friend’s attention again, he thinks of shooting the question he’s been careful about asking. “I was actually wondering if you wanted to come out tomorrow evening. The whole group is going.” Hope fills Jimin's voice and he forces his biggest smile, knowing convincing Jeongguk to go out these past weeks had been close to impossible.

Jeongguk studies his best friend’s face, squinting his eyes suspiciously, “Is she gonna be there?” Such a simple question completely shutters the already minuscule hope Jimin had left.

Still, the blonde head tries to act unbothered, “I did just say that the whole group is going too.” He searches for the younger’s eyes but it looks like he’s already set on a firm answer.

“Then no.” Jeongguk replies, his eyes low on the table, picking up every uninteresting detail he can catch. He knows there’s no actual reason for him to reject Jimin’s invitation. He also knows it’s been a while since he started being this difficult over simple matters he wouldn’t have stressed about months ago. What he doesn’t know is since when he started feeling like he doesn't belong among his own friends. Or better, he does, yet he doesn't want to acknowledge it.

The older of the pair sighs, fixing his hair and trying to find a solution to his friend’s sudden change in demeanour, “You know, you really should talk to her. Sort this thing out between you two.” His voice is careful, almost too delicate. Jimin had always been a big advocate in the truce between the two, if there had even been a war to begin with, yet never managed to make Jeongguk reason with him.

No matter how gentle Jimin was trying to be, he still gets an unwanted reaction from the other man, who now crosses his arms on his chest and furrows his brows. “Oh, so I should be the one to talk first. Why can't it be her? No one ever thinks of the way I’m feeling.” Once again, Jeongguk is being unreasonably difficult. He hates the words he chooses as soon as they come out of his mouth.

Jeongguk knows his friends deeply care for him, especially the one in front of him. They had been glued together since the day they met, now even sharing an apartment. They weren’t totally compatible for multiple reasons, but that’s probably why they became so close. They both added elements that were missing to each other and created a smooth dynamic, a connection able to transcend many barriers.

That’s why Jeongguk knows he can be as childish as he wants, because Jimin will always find the right words to put him in his rational mind again, “Guk, what I’m trying to say is… This is genuinely not healthy for you. You’ve been stressing so much over this and detaching yourself from the others.”

The brown haired boy keeps eye contact with his friend now, no longer escaping confrontation. He’ll admit he’s tired of running. Jimin really hopes his eyes can help his words convey how he feels about this, “They’ve asked me if you’re okay, you know. They noticed. They miss you when you’re not there.”

Hearing this makes Jeongguk bite his lip and look away in thought. He’s never been like this. Jeongguk doesn’t want to be like this. Feels terrible knowing his friends have probably interpreted him being more absent in a completely wrong way. No one else knows about the real reason, except Jimin.

He feels stupid when he realises just seeing her again had taken such a toll on him, when really he loves being surrounded by his people. The people who have been by his side this past year, who made university bearable, with whom he finally felt like he belonged somewhere. Now, one of them is in front of him, trying anything to get him to say a simple yes, “C’mon? It’s gonna be fun, we can just be on our own if you w-“

“Jimin. It’s okay. I’m coming.” He doesn’t know if it’s an impulsive decision, but seeing the incredulous smile on the blonde guy’s face makes him not dwell too much on what he just agreed to.

Jimin scoots his seat closer, putting his hands on Jeongguk’s shoulders, “Really? You’ll come?” Seeing the other boy just nodding at his questions, he makes a sound close to a squeal and claps his hands, “It’s gonna be so fun. The best party we’ve ever been to. I promise!”

The younger one just laughs while Jimin goes on about how he has to update the group chat on Jeongguk’s presence and, “Should we plan our fits? I was thinking of wearing that shirt Hobi lent me that I never gave back.”

Jeongguk laughs, genuinely surprised that his presence could lift Jimin’s spirit up so much. He has been too harsh on himself ever since she made her appearance, thinking it wouldn’t make a difference if he was there or not for the others. Fuck her. Those are his friends too.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As soon as he heard the house phone ring, he picked it up. There could be three possible people calling: his aunt, his grandmother, or Eunbi. Guessing by the time displayed on his computer, it had to be the third. With how much the two of them spent talking over the phone (even if they lived next to each other) Jeongguk had asked his mom to get him a desk phone of his own, so it could be easier to call.

Pausing the game he had been close to finishing, he moved the device to his ear, “Hello?”

“Jeongguk…” Noises close to sobs could be heard on the other line, making the boy worry. It was definitely his neighbour’s voice, but something about it was not right.

With his eyes unconsciously wide open, making them bigger than they already were, he got up from his seat on the desk, “Bee? Everything okay?”

Silence was what he was met with initially, until he could hear sniffing and shuffling, “Huh… I don’t know. I think I got the… thing.”

At that, Jeongguk slowed down. Panic slowly left his body, which automatically sat down again on the chair. The boy almost didn’t consider a very important feature characterising his best friend: her being totally over dramatic about anything slightly outside of her usual routine.

If one single hair was out of place; if someone didn’t agree with her; if Jeongguk picked Toad instead of his usual Luigi in Mario Kart. Little meaningless actions that could get Eunbi to either yell, cry, or both.

When anything of the sort would get that reaction out of the girl, Jeongguk would do the most to be an absolute menace and make it ten times worse, just because he enjoyed bickering with her.

However, he knew not to do that in situations like these, when he didn’t know if she was genuinely hurt and needed some sort of comfort, protection. That’s why he did his best to understand the situation, “What… thing are we talking about exactly?”

“I… This is disgusting. But my parents are out, I’m home alone, and,” she sobbed “I need diapers but like, for women.” Another hiccup escaped her.

The boy on the other side didn’t know how to react. Had a vague idea of what could have happened but wasn’t that confident to assume, “What the heck are you talking about.”

“Jeongguk! Just get me those things and come here!” The line got cut abruptly and for a second Jeongguk sat there, just listening to the endless beeping. It resembled what was happening within his brain cells. Think, think, think.

He was pretty sure he saw his mother buying diapers-like stuff, came across them a few times in the bathroom. Knew every time she complained about pain, his dad automatically went out to buy those for her; figured it’s what Eunbi needed and begged for.

Putting the phone down, he sprinted to the upstairs bathroom, glad his parents were still downstairs, probably watching those game shows they love, assuming from their laughter. Which is also how he thought they would react if they saw him digging through his mom’s drawer looking for pads.

He found two types, “Why do they make one for day and one for night…” As he inspected them, he figured he should bring both and let the pained girl try them on or something. Do they go by size? This is weird.

Jeongguk took everything he could find and put it in his backpack, hurriedly going down the stairs and just then realising he had to come up with an excuse to his parents’ questioning eyes.

“Huh… Eunbi wanted to show me a new game she got. I’ll be back in a few.” He nodded enthusiastically, more to himself for being so quick on the spot, and rapidly exited the door before anything his parents said could stop him.

When he rang the doorbell, the first time wasn’t successful. He unconsciously bit his lip and tried again, worried something might have happened. With his finger hovering over the buzzer for a third time, the door suddenly opened and a messy haired Eunbi pulled him in.

“This is insane. I’m only eleven. This can’t be happening, Gguk. I used Dad’s computer to look this up and it’s saying this comes every month. Every month!” His back to the door, the boy was held hostage by his babbling best friend on the verge of a serious crisis, “This is the end of m-“

“Jesus Christ, stop.” Jeongguk put his hands on her shoulders, trying to get the scared girl to stop panicking, “I got what you need. They’re called pads, by the way. Also, why do I know more about this than you?” The older boy knew he shouldn’t be pissing off his already very pissed off neighbour, but he can’t help it. Loved making fun of her.

Still, with Eunbi’s voice being surely audible even from outside the house, yelling at him for disrespecting her, he took out the women-diapers and handed them to her, “Listen, I’m not sure how these work. I can look it up online, if you w-“

“No, oh my god. You don’t wanna see what I saw. I’ll figure this out.” Tugging the five packs of pads to her chest, she nodded confidently. She rocked on her heels, lifting her shoulders up and then down releasing a long sigh, almost as if she was waiting for something else. Jeongguk exchanged her (not so) convinced nod, not sure what else to do, “Huh… Okay, go.”

“Yes! Right,” Nodding again, this time repeatedly, she turned around. Not even one step in, she spinned to face the older boy again, embarrassment dancing on her cheeks, “Um… actually, stand outside the door?” She smiled her sweetest one and, without waiting for an answer, dragged him to the bathroom door, closing it to his face but still talking through the whole thing, oh, I think it fits like this; no, maybe like that. This doesn’t feel so bad. Just sticky. Jeongguk wasn’t sure this was what he agreed to when becoming friends with a girl.

Twenty minutes later, the newly menstruating girl came out of the room, looking up at her best friend. He was glad something different was now showing on her face, something close to relief, “I feel better, Gguk. I feel like this is a new beginning,” which was followed by her endless ranting — review and all — on this new experience. She couldn’t believe she shared her first period with Jeongguk. Heck, Jeongguk couldn’t either.

“Why didn’t you just call your mom?” With a movie playing in the background, only after an hour of looking up “menstrual cycle” online, he genuinely wondered why he was the one there instead of her mom or one of her girl friends.

By the looks of it, Eunbi didn’t take the simple question that well, “I get it, you hate me, you think I’m annoying and-“

“God, you get what I mean when I say you’re over dramatic?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That version of Eunbi feels much closer to the one that’s in front of him right now, turned around and waiting in line to get inside the club all their friends decided to go to together. After agreeing impulsively, there was much rethinking on his side, but Jimin would keep begging him to just come, it’ll be a fun night.

Sure. There he is. Not even in, and already hating every second of it. It was not only because of her, Jeongguk just didn’t get the hype around dancing for hours and being suffocated by other sweating drunk bodies. To be completely honest, he dreaded these places. Now even more, having to witness Eunbi fighting with random men that take pissing people off as a hobby.

The worst thing that could happen to her already over dramatic personality is being joined by the origin of drama itself, Dahye. The latter is actually the reason why the now yelling girl became part of his friend group. In the middle of last semester, she had to look for a roommate and fate wanted her to be the last person on earth he wished to see again, especially in Seoul. However, they instantly kicked off and she got introduced to the others, which also included Jeongguk. Imagine his face when he saw her.

Everything led to this moment though, with Eunbi and Dahye entertaining the dumb, probably already drunk guys over an even dumber argument, “How are you judging me for drinking a Sex on the Beach when you literally reek of beer, the worst beverage on earth.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know if he’s glad or not that the girl didn’t lose her blabbering tendencies, the little kid inside him enjoying the bickering and seeing her worked up over dismissible issues. However, no matter if she’s discussing cocktails or science, he feels like keeping his guard up high this time, just because these men don’t look like they have the best intentions, and he doesn’t want anybody to get hurt. Anybody.

He’s proved right when they emit the ugliest laughs at Eunbi’s claims, with one of them getting almost all up in her face, which Jeongguk doesn’t like at all. He takes a step further, securing a safer spot behind the girls in case something happens and he has to intervene. You never know with the two roommates, it’s not the first time they’ll be causing a scene. It’s not because he cares about the shorter girl. He’s just worried about her potentially getting the group kicked out. Yeah.

Licking his lips, the bald guy (not even an inch taller than the girls in flat sandals) squares the Sex on the Beach girl up and down, doesn’t look like he’s close to letting the stupid fight go, “Let me guess, the cocktail, those shoes, the attitude… You probably study some dumb shit like Psychology, huh?”

Such a meaningless statement gets all his minions to laugh, patting his shoulders and making more comments amongst themselves. Dahye rolls her eyes, unamused by the whole act, “That’s not the outrage you think it is, babe.”

That only gets the drunk men to laugh more, Jeongguk squeezing his fists for a second and instantly reading the look on the other angered girl’s face, knowing she’s probably ready to turn this into the worst night of every present person’s life just for the sake of her degree’s reputation.

“Ha, ha. Very funny. It’s Literature, you dickwad. You know, you're single-handedly making engineers’ notoriety even worse than it actually is.” Jeongguk knows there’s no stopping Eunbi, but he wishes he could right now. He’s glad the girl is able to stand her own ground, but is also afraid this may end horribly.

The counterpart of the diss seems taken aback, his two brain cells struggling even more because of the alcohol in his body, “How do you know I’m an engineer?”

Having it served on a silver plate, the girl in her short dress smirks, “‘Cause you look like a fucking dick.”

The men feign their surprise, the guy that mainly entertained the conversation saying something along the lines of Wanna see?, pointing at his down area and snickering, while his friends act like he’s the absolute peak of comedy.

Jeongguk has to clench his jaw, not at all pleased with how the situation is escalating. He knows Eunbi can handle such stuff, but he swears he’s one more comment away from stepping in.

On the other hand, she doesn’t seem to mind, not even thinking of backing up and showing the guy her pointer finger and thumb almost touching, indicating the guy’s size. Jeongguk slightly smirks. Then immediately wipes that off his face. He doesn’t find her funny.

“You know, this is the third time you end up talking about my dick,” the bastard is getting closer to his friends, and Jeongguk hates that. “You’re funny, you just need to be disciplined.”

As soon as those words leave his mouth, Eunbi doesn’t hesitate to invade the guy’s personal space too, holding eye contact, ready to literally throw hands if not for Dahye quickly catching her arm to move her away.

The bald head scoffs, before adding the filthiest shit his misogynistic limited mind could come up with, “If you ever need this engineer’s dick when whatever you’re studying leaves your ass on the sidewalk, you can come suck it for a couple of wons.”

Jeongguk sees absolute red for a second. He’s had more than enough now, putting a hand on Eunbi’s shoulder before anything more than an incredulous gasp could leave her mouth. He makes himself noticed, not that it was hard with his taller figure, taking matters in his own hands, “What the hell is your problem, man?”

When the mentioned guy diverts his eyes from the girl he just degraded and moves them on Jeongguk, he takes a step back. Still, he doesn’t stop his dirty mouth from running, “Shit, is she already busy with you? Sorry, man.”

His group laughs at that too, and the taller boy unconsciously squeezes his hand on the girl’s shoulder, clenching his jaw. “You’re fucking disgusting. Get the fuck out of here before I make you.”

What his eyes convey is definitely stronger than the words he lets out, wishing he could destroy every bone in the guy’s body, who now knows to stop being so smart. He mutters a few more comments though, making it harder for Jeongguk to not act upon his violent thoughts, “I’ll give you three fucking seconds.”

That makes the guy lift his hands up in surrender and finally turn the other way, distancing himself even from his friends, who don’t find him amusing anymore.

Jeongguk thinks the whole thing is over, but of course he should have trusted his wide knowledge on the fussy girl’s behaviour more, and predicted that she wouldn’t have let it go so easily, “Oh, so now that a man broke in you shut up, huh? Come talk, you little pus-“

“Eunbi. C’mon. We have to get in,” It’s — strangely — Dahye who doesn’t go along with her roommate and instead directs her to the entry, assuring her how there’s going to be no more trouble and just a long night of fun. The other girl just scoffs, too busy looking back at those men to try and get them to react again, but when she’s inside and she loses sight of them she finds her eyes meeting Jeongguk’s, who is directly behind her.

The interaction is awkward, to say the least. She slightly bows at him in recognition, while he just nods and does his best to avoid finding her eyes again, resorting to turning around in search for Jimin, probably way behind with Hoseok.

He’s so thankful when he feels a pat on his shoulder, and looking to his side it’s Namjoon that pulls him into a side hug, “That was tuff, man.”

“Ah, nothing,” Jeongguk nods, adrenaline still struggling to leave his body and not allowing him to relax. He follows his friend’s steps even if they’re going in the same direction as the person he’s now even more than before trying to avoid. He didn’t plan to be this close to her for so long.

“I thought you hated,” the taller guy uses his chin to refer to the girl in front of them. “But here you are defending her.”

The other guy is glad for the loud music playing, the last thing he wanted was for the mentioned girl to hear. He also doesn’t want Namjoon or anyone else to think that was him coming in her defence. It was just common sense. Doesn’t know why he felt like breaking the guy’s nose though. Figures that’s common sense too.

Before he can justify himself, the remaining members of the group reach them, giving Jeongguk the chance to get away from the sight of the girl but still feeling a burning sensation on his tongue. The need to make himself clear.

The chaotic atmosphere is even more emphasised by his already tipsy friends telling him again and again how happy they are to see him here, shaking him by the shoulders with way too much enthusiasm. Now distracted by the earlier incident, he just jokes with them like usual, but he feels a nervous sensation creeping up his neck. With a drink in his hand, he tries to follow the music, but he can’t seem to focus.

When Jeongguk finds Namjoon again, who was already handed a drink by Jimin, he gets close to his ear, replying to his previous insinuation, “I wasn’t- defending her.”

The older guy furrows his brows at him, signalling the conversation being over and certainly not that important, “Sure, man.” Showing his thumbs up, Namjoon scream sings some lyrics at him, Jeongguk still feeling a bit uneasy. He just needed to specify that. He was not defending Eunbi. Well, technically. But Dahye was there too, and she’s his friend. Of course he would have done th-

“Ggukkie!” It’s Jimin’s voice pulling him away from his thoughts, but also pulling him closer to the floor, “I’m so happy you’re here! This is fun, no?”

Jeongguk nods and chuckles at his best friend’s horrific dance moves, just now realising how tipsy he already is but taking it as the opportunity to fully let what happened go.

The rest of the night is unexpectedly fun. He’s surrounded by great energy that his friends keep oozing, and he realises just how much he had missed laughing to the point of his stomach hurting. Shouting when the group's favourite songs came on. Chuckling at a way too drunk Hoseok trying to get him to move his hips a bit more. Of course, he should have predicted his friends’ main goal is to get absolutely shit faced tonight. He isn’t really in the mood for that, though enjoying the state of the others while too much alcohol is flowing in their bodies.

No drinking means Jeongguk’s social battery is running out much faster than the others’, not having enough energy to entertain the constant back and forth between his friends, and certainly to handle them not even needing one single break from the dance floor.

At some point during the endless dancing, he settles on just being by the bar counter, sitting on a stool and taking no more than a few sips from the drink Jimin had given him as soon as he had stepped foot in the club, which was hours ago by now. He doesn’t know why, but alcohol tastes awful on his tongue tonight and it’s a task on its own to even swallow it.

”Can I buy you a drink?” It comes from a silky voice on his right, close enough to startle him slightly before he recollects and takes in the girl looking at his face expectantly. She has soft features framed by smooth blonde hair, completely contrasted by her intense makeup and burgundy mini dress. So far from his type, but Jeongguk entertains it for some reason.

”Well, you stole my line there,” the smile he gives her is gentle but playful and it sets the girl into a fit of giggles, clearly amused by the mysterious dark guy sitting alone by the bar. And that’s exactly what she tells him, ”I had to give it a try, you get me? I love boys that look just like they need to be fixed.”

“That is absolutely ridiculous,” he genuinely laughs, and he’s joined by her. Jeongguk can’t lie, the conversation between them takes off right from the start. It’s a nice back and forth that takes his mind off things for a while, not enough to actually give into her flirty intentions, but enough to eventually move to the dance floor with her. She’s witty and he likes that about her. Abbey? Ashley? He clearly doesn’t like her enough to remember. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.

He can’t bring himself to, especially when his line of vision falls right on a tipsy Dahye-less Eunbi next to what seems to be more than one guy. She’s laughing a lot and he’s sure none of what the men are spluttering can be that funny. It’s probably just the alcohol, and that is enough for him to keep him observing. Only to make sure nothing bad happens.

Abbey-Ashley must have noticed his sudden disinterest, and with boldness she wraps her short arms around his neck, bringing him way too close to her face than he had planned to be to any woman this night. The eye contact is uncomfortable, and Jeongguk is itching to keep checking on whatever was happening not too far from him, but the blonde speaks her wittiness again, “You won’t let me offer you a drink and you’re not willing to dance with me, is this how men feel?”

The pearly smile on her face lets him know the setting between them is still playful, so he just shakes his head letting a small giggle out of his mouth. Now with the woman almost hanging from his neck, he resolves on just going along with her moves, and when he steals a glance at the girl he was previously keeping an eye on and sees her staring back he feels a sense of unwarranted satisfaction.

He keeps searching for that, wanting more of that groundless feeling but all he’s met with is more and more flashes of her digging a hole he’s afraid she’s gonna fall in, with the men acting way too friendly and her drunk mind not noticing. Or just not caring.

When the blonde in front of him starts being a little too inclined on taking the physical contact further, he regrets not even finishing his previous and only drink of the night, wishing he could give in but knowing he can’t with his mind thinking way too rationally and being too aware of his surroundings. He genuinely thinks Abbey-Ashley is a nice girl, and he feels sorry knowing he’s going to reject her. Thinks it was kind of fuckboy-ish for him to go along with her knowing they’re on two completely different lines, but still doing it because it seemed like the quickest escape from his running mind.

He gently puts his hands on her waist, intent on moving her away and trying to come up with a reasonable excuse, when he hears his name being called and for the second time tonight, he’s glad Namjoon’s parents fucked. ”Hey, JK- oh shoot, am I interrupting something?”

The smokey eyed girl breaks away from her moment and seems suddenly very interested in hearing Jeongguk’s answer, batting her eyelashes at him in hopes of getting a different reaction from what she knows the evident one is going to be. She did know the brown haired man was not interested; she still figured she could try and change that.

Jeongguk moves his gaze from his friend to the girl and hesitates, “Huh… not really.” He gives an awkward tight lipped smile, thinking this is fucking embarassing, then tries not to read too much in Namjoon’s weirded out expression, “What’s up?”

“Everybody is leaving, Jimin and Dahye already did with Hoseok after throwing up on three sofas.” Namjoon scoffs, rolling his eyes amusedly, “Anyway, see you in uni?”

Jeongguk has a few questions he’s afraid to know the answer to, but still he daps up his friend and then inevitably searches with his eyes for Eunbi, the reason for his worry. He knows Dahye, her usual ride home, will kill him if he lets her roommate wander off with some random men while drunk. Hell, he himself wouldn’t let that happen. He dislikes the girl, but he’s still human.

Jeongguk stresses even more when he sees her directed towards the exit with said guys. He completely disconnects from what the burgundy dressed girl is telling him, only picking up a “Can I get your number, though?”

Maybe it’s his guiltiness acting, or just him wanting to find a quick escape, but he does share his number in surely unanswered hope that she’s going to give up reaching out to him eventually. That does get her to part ways though, not before a sneaky kiss is left on his cheek. He really wants to kill Eunbi.

His next steps are directed towards her, ready to re-enact his previous success at getting rid of those beer stinking misogynists, but he’s left surprised, and in some sense relieved, when he sees her standing alone, arms wrapped around her small freezing figure with her phone to her ear. When he gets closer, he’s able to catch her muttering nasty remarks towards Dahye, so bad that he believes her roommate can feel them right now, in her probably passed out state and all.

”Fucking fuck, why is she not answering,” Before she can dial her number for the fifth time, she spots Jeongguk on her right, and for the first time since they saw each other again in years, she seems glad that he’s there, “Jeongguk!” Her voice is giddy, and he thinks he hasn’t heard his name being said like that in a long time.

Still, he keeps an unbothered act up while standing in front of her, hands in his jeans pockets, “Dahye went home already. I’m guessing she was your ride home.”

Now, he knows she’s overdramatic, but with alcohol flowing through her system that trait of her surely reaches its finite form. She lets out an incredulously loud gasp, mouth hanging and all, and whispers some more insults under her breath. When she still doesn’t reply, he listens more attentively to what she’s muttering and he latches on to her intention of going back home with a taxi, “I have 9,000 won on me, so that will probably do, Eunbi…”

He witnesses beyond belief the girl in front of him giving herself a whole encouraging speech before taking off onto the road, uncareful of eventual vehicles steering on it. That triggers his instinct, yelling her name. It unexpectedly but luckily stops her in her tracks, making her turn around with a not so pleased expression.

Jeongguk can’t believe what he’s offering to do while having to be met with that look on her face. Ugh, brat. “What the hell are you doing? C’mon, I’m taking you home.”

The laugh she lets out is so obnoxious and loud that a few people actually turn around startled, and Jeongguk has to literally sprint over to her, holding her wrist to bring her further away from the road and from the club’s entrance, “Shut up, God,” He whisper yells, while she seems to do the exact opposite.

It luckily stops at some point, but as if nothing ever happened she turns too serious too soon, ”You…” Her finger is pointed at Jeongguk’s chest in what seems to be a menacing manner, eyes narrowed and dipping into his, “You own that loud bike. I’m not getting on it. Not getting on it!” She yells that last sentence, making a scene as if she was trying to break free from Jeongguk’s hold, which he immediately drops, while still trying to get her to be quiet.

The genuinely desperate expression on the boy’s face is enough for her next move to be crouching in half, holding her stomach as unexpected laughter holds her body hostage once again, Jeongguk sighing unbelievably and regretting every single thought of his that led him to follow her outside.

”Can you please- be normal,” Jeongguk actually begs, bringing the girl up and noticing real tears around her eyes, smudging her glittery makeup. He doesn’t know what’s so funny, his expression clearly conveying that annoyment.

”You- You’re too funny,” She giggles, recovering from her sudden fit of laughter, which dies down slowly this time with her emitting a long sigh. The drunk girl shakes her head to herself, retrieving her phone once again and opening the Uber app. Jeongguk is having none of it.

”I’m being serious. I’m not letting you get a taxi at this hour. You’re getting on that loud bike, like it or not.” His firm statement is luckily not followed by chuckles, nor by a witty remark, just her snapping her head up with big eyes staring into his unsurely. He feels like having to deal with an eleven year old all over again, only this time his patience is running thin and he doesn’t feel like waiting.

The girl catches up to him, trying her best to keep up with his pace and following him closely to the vehicle that’s going to be her ride home tonight. She shivers, not only because she’s cold but also because she’s rethinking life choices. Eunbi scrambles to find anything to avoid what was bound to happen, her slow mind trying to come up with a quick escape and not even registering Jeongguk putting his jacket around her shoulders and securing the helmet under her chin, while she almost literally just stands there. “I’m sure-” she hiccups, “I’m sure that blonde girl would love to be in my position right now.”

That is not at all how it was supposed to come out nor sound, the confusion evident on the boy’s face being met with horror written in the girl’s expression. She stutters, “I meant, like- you should be taking her home.”

A part of his brain notes the fact that she was also observing him from a distance not too long ago inside the club, but he leaves that thought for his late night thinking. Right now, he chuckles amusedly, sitting on his bike while adjusting his hair, “Hop on. It won’t kill you.”

The possibility of the bike killing her almost does it for her, until she remembers the other option. Having to pay for an Uber at 4 a.m. while too drunk to even formulate a senseful sentence. In front of her instead, a free ride by no one other than the boy she’s been shamelessly avoiding for no reason, too scared to actually confront him. What a great second option.

Still, she balances herself using his shoulders and gets on the bike, not knowing where to put her hands next. That thought seems to be registering at the same time in Jeongguk’s head, who revs the engine, “I suggest you hold onto me.”

Eunbi scoffs, shoving her straightened hair back in a sassy manner, “There’s no way in hell-“ Her remark is abruptly interrupted by a loud squeal, followed by her arms wrapping around his torso in under one millisecond, with Jeongguk suddenly taking off at full speed.

He laughs a genuine one, and that gets the scared girl pissed beyond hell, yelling in his ear about how she hates his guts with her hands almost close to groping his pecs. Can you blame her? They’re the closest thing she can hold on to right now to survive.

He does slow down, as does his laughter and her screaming, but then as he rounds the club he spots the men who had been bothering Eunbi at the beginning of the night intent on crossing the street. He figures he can play a bit more before actually stopping sabotaging the girl in the back’s health. Just a little something to get back at them for their comments. So, he zooms right past them, cutting their way suddenly and almost probably going over one of their toes, their incredulous yelling and remarks being music for his ears, joined by the girl he’s taking home as she screams more insults at him, looking back at the angered men getting further as Jeongguk drives away.

”Are you trying to take my life?” She’s almost voiceless as she tries to make herself heard over the engine, squeezing Jeongguk’s waist in genuine fear. All she gets back from the biker is a giggle, and a tap on her knee, “Sorry. They deserved it. You can relax now.”

As suspicious as she may have been initially, he didn’t lie. The rest of the ride is pleasant, slow driving while a sweet summer breeze brushes her face and makes her hair flow with the wind. No one dares break the moment, not even at red lights when the only sound that can be heard over the silence is the growling motor. Eunbi is glad Jeongguk knows the way to her flat, having already been there with the others for a few house parties she and Dahye hosted. That means she can just zone out in the back, her head resting on Jeongguk’s shoulders, and right in this moment she doesn’t regret almost risking her life, the sight of the city flashing past her making her forget all about it.

When Jeongguk can feel the grip around his torso getting loose, he taps her knee twice, afraid she might be falling asleep. He’s proved right when that gesture gets her to suddenly shake her head, muttering some noises and tightening her hold around him again. He smiles, ”We’re almost home, don’t fall asleep on me.”

Indeed, the sight of her building comes to view shortly after, Jeongguk stopping in front of it and waiting for his backpack to get off the bike. When she does, she stumbles slightly, seemingly gaining consciousness of her surroundings again. Jeongguk notices she completely wrapped herself in his leather jacket, figures she was probably freezing to death in that short dress of hers. Thinks it’s a cute sight. Regrets having a brain right after.

Said cute sight struggles to take off the helmet, Jeongguk itching to help her, but she succeeds unexpectedly without any help. Still no word being uttered by any of the two, with her hair a tangled mess, she gets close to him and repeats the same actions Jeongguk did to her earlier, handing his jacket back and putting the helmet around his head. When she’s done she pats it, then takes a step back.

A simple ride home on Jeongguk’s bike seems to have opened a black hole of unsaid truths, being communicated by their eyes just staring at each other. None of them is ready to voice them out, though. Eunbi clears her throat, pulling the hem of her dress down as a habit, clearly out of embarrassment. Then, she fixes her locks, “That’s very dangerous, you know?”

Jeongguk hums questionly, moving some of his bangs out of his vision and clearly seeing goosebumps rising on the girl’s skin, unsure of why she prefers trying to converse after minutes of silence over warming up in her flat.

“You giving me your helmet and your jacket. What if you hurt yourself?” She keeps muttering some more remarks under her breath, probably slander reserved just for him this time. He can make out a dumbass. What a nerve.

She may be right, though. Without his jacket on, he was only covered by a tight black shirt, nothing on his head to save him from any eventuality he doesn’t want to consider. Still, he clearly doesn’t see why he wouldn’t have preferred to protect her instead of himself, but he doesn’t exactly say that, “If I didn’t do that, you would have been a popsicle by now.”

The girl giggles, proving him right when she wraps her arms around her figure, “So, you do this for every girl? What if one of them gets you killed?”

Jeongguk scoffs amusedly, shaking his head at her implication, but deciding to ignore it, “The only one who got me close to that was you.” He only says that to gain one of her too over the top reactions, and he’s glad when she furrows her brows, hanging her mouth and bringing a hand to her chest. He chuckles, “If anything you should be thanking me.”

The usually over dramatic girl now just nods, taking in the smile on his face and grasping the fact that it hasn’t been directed at her in a long time before this moment. She smiles too, “Yeah, huh… Thanks. For the ride. ‘T was nice.”

Jeongguk figures the wind must have dried up almost all the alcohol from Eunbi’s body, because she seems to be realising, just as he is, how close they have gotten to one another while ignoring the huge elephant in the room, her attitude being way less sassy and picky with this knowledge. Fazed by this sudden but obvious realisation, he only nods.

The girl quickly notices the change in his demeanour and she nervously bites her lower lip, aware their dynamic is going to return to cold stares and unacknowledgement, but still wanting to hold onto this moment even for one more second. “Oh,” her chest jumps in some sort of gasp, realising she still has something else to thank him for, “Thanks for earlier. You know, with those guys. I appreciated it.”

Differently from Eunbi, Jeongguk wants to be done with this pretence already. As soon as he found himself getting too lost in the fantasy of them still being friends, he quickly recovered and put the wall up high again, making the distance between them even farther than it was before. He doesn’t miss the sadness in her eyes when that shift happens, but he also doesn’t want to dwell too much on it, his tone unbothered all of the sudden while his eyes convey a different story, “No problem. Get inside.”

She nods, giving him a tight lipped smile, turning around slowly and making her way to the front door of the building. She expects to hear the roaring of the bike’s engine, but the only sound that can be heard is that of the birds waking up and singing their morning songs.

Jeongguk stays in his spot on the bike until he sees the girl enter the block, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding and then securing the helmet under his chin. Pats it, then immediately retreats his hand. “Dumbass,” That’s his signal he needs to get home as soon as possible and get some sleep, already imagining how difficult such a simple task will be with his mind running a hundred miles per hour. Fucking Bee.