#THE WAY I COULD HEAR THE QUOTE IN HIS VOICE—HE WOULD TOTALLY SAY THAT IT’S NOT EVEN A JOKE

[oh-great-authoress]

Dr. Seresin’s class is one of the most taken classes in North Island University, and while the man himself is not oblivious to the other reasons students take his class, he hopes they do learn something.

Even if it is only his pastime of creating insults in poetry and rhyming couplets.

meet the professors: dr. jake seresin, associate professor of classics. “students, it’s like I always say - go big or go Homer.” 🏛️ 🏺

[lovebugism]

hey bug 🫶🏻 “cant stand that they're ignoring them” maybe r and Steve work together and he's been extra annoying lately. So r decides to ignore him. But he's only acting like a fool because he's in love 🥺

this fic ended up taking a life of it's own, so it's a wee bit different from your request, but i hope you like it anon!! — the one where you and steve are the personification of the "idiots in love" trope (friends to lovers, 1.5k)

Steve hears you before he sees you. A pair of whispers float down the windowless corridor of Family Video, sounding much more obvious in the otherwise silent store. He pauses mid-stride, with his fingers frozen on the buttons of his vest. His ears strain to listen. They find your familiar voice with little effort.

“—I can’t ‘just ask him out,’ Rob. It’s not that easy. I’m way too chicken shit.”

“Well, the worst he could say is no,” Robin attempts to assure you, voice deep and gritty and barely a whisper.

“Yeah, actually,” you huff, horrified. “That’s absolutely the worst thing he could say.”

“Except, he won’t because he’s not an idiot,” she argues.There’s a brief and stagnant pause, a fleeting moment of silent communication, until Robin exhales a heavy sigh. “Okay, he is a little bit of an idiot— but he’s an idiot that’s been in love with you for two years, so… He’s not stupid enough to turn you down.”

Distantly curious and very boyishly heartbroken, Steve decides to make himself known. He plasters a lopsided smile on his plush mouth, only slightly forced, to compensate for his bleeding heart. “What are you guys talkin’ about, huh?” he wonders, knowingly.

Your head snaps over your shoulder, eyes wide with horror. “Nothing,” you blurt, too quickly to be convincing.

Robin is not as nonchalant as you are. Totally unable to be casual, she says the first lie that comes to mind. “Eddie Munson,” she answers in a feeble attempt to cover your ass. 

Steve’s forced laughter fills the empty store. Robin cowers at the glare you give her and musters a wavering smile.

“Eddie? Eddie Munson?” Steve echoes, still chuckling. He folds his arms over the countertop across from you, biceps golden and strained against the sleeves of his polo. His smile is even prettier up close, but it hurts a little ‘cause he’s laughing at you. “You? Have a crush on Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson? There’s no way!”

You’d tell him there really was no way if he wasn’t being such an asshole about it. You thought you’d been caught for a moment — thought surely Steve would know that you were talking about him — but he’s a bigger idiot than you gave him credit for, turns out.

“It’s not that funny, Steve,” you squint.

He hums a teasing I don’t know type of sound and clicks his tongue against his teeth. “It is a little bit funny. I mean— Munson’s a total dumbass.”

You bite back a knowing smirk. “Well, I happen to like that about him,” you argue, leaning into the stupid joke. It’s easier to lie when it feels more like you’re talking about the quote-unquote dumbass in front of you.

“Well, you’d be the first,” Steve scoffs. His fake smile trembles at the edges when it gets harder to keep his guard up. “So, like, what now? Are you guys gonna be like… boyfriend-girlfriend or…?”

You meet his teasing smirk with a flat face. “You’re so annoying.”

“Have you guys kissed yet?” Steve pries, like he’s trying to break his own heart. “Or are you too scared of catchin’ his cooties?”

You roll your eyes and turn away, taking a fresh stack of tapes with you. Steve, assuming your silence is his answer, inhales a cartoonish gasp and follows behind you. “Holy shit, you have! Was it the worst? I mean, I’m assuming it was ‘cause… Eddie’s only ever had experience with the back of his hand, so… It must’ve been awful.”

His sarcasm is just investigative journalism, really. He wants to know what’s happened between you and the town freak — how far deep you’re in with Eddie and how much of a shot he’s got left with you.

“I’m not entertaining this,” you lilt and beeline for the Romantic Comedy section.

Steve follows close behind. “Why not?” he presses over your shoulder, towering over you as you slide the tapes into their designated spots. “I know Munson better than most people, you know? So maybe I can put in a good word for you or something—”

“Not necessary,” you deadpan.

He keeps on going. Digging the hole, as it were. “I could talk you up a bit. Get some top-secret info on his big fat crush on you—”

Your heart twists with every word out of his mouth. Not because he’s teasing you, but because you thought maybe, maybe, Steve might’ve liked you back. But now it feels like you just made all that up in your head. Because if he liked you like you thought he did, he wouldn’t be trying to set you up with someone else.

“—Help make it official and everything.”

“I don’t have a crush on Eddie,” you blurt before you mean to.

Steve’s rambling ceases. He feels immediate relief first, then palpable confusion right after. “…What?”

“I have a crush on you, you idiot,” you grouse, shoving the leftover tapes into his chest and storming off towards the breakroom.

Steve stands frozen in place while you leave, with a stack of VHSs held haphazardly in his arms. Wide-eyed and slightly embarrassed, he watches you disappear around the corner of the hallway. His gaze flits to Robin then, who tries to look busy on the computer, but really she’s just clicking at random spots on the screen.

“Well, I totally fucked that up, didn’t I?” he wonders dryly.

“Sorry,” the brunette grimaces. “That was kinda my fault— No one ever taught me how to be casual, so now I kinda… freak out when I have to be normal.”

Steve scoffs. That much was evident to him a long time ago.

He stalks into the break room sometime later — tail between his legs, heart in his throat. The old door squeaks open and shut again, a harsh sound in the deafening quiet. If you notice his presence, you make no effort to show it. Or look at him. Or even acknowledge his existence. 

Steve knows he doesn’t deserve either.

“Hey…” he starts softly, voice wavering.

“Don’t,” you interject, much harsher than you intended, with your back still facing him. You stand at the counter and stick clearance stickers on tapes that aren’t selling well as an excuse to busy your anxious hands. “Don’t say anything, okay? Just… let me be an idiot in peace.”

Steve chuckles under his breath. “I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

You flash him a glare over your shoulder.

“I’m the dumbass in this equation, alright?” the boy assures and stands at your side. He keeps a few unsure inches between the two of you, just in case he’s totally screwed everything up. “I mean, seriously. I can’t keep my mouth shut for shit.”

You scoff a faint laugh that you try to keep hidden.

An absentminded smile tugs unknowingly at his lips. Steve watches you with an unwavering stare made of melted honey as he confesses, “When Robin said you had a thing for Eddie, I just… My heart fell to my ass, you know? And then everything just started building up like vomit, and I started spitting it all out before I even realized…”

Your face screws. “Jeez…”

“Sorry,” Steve grimaces. “Gross metaphor.”

“I just don’t want things to change between us,” you admit distantly, gaze averted as you smooth a 20% off sticker over Class of Nuke ‘Em High. “I don’t want things to be weird now.”

“Things aren’t weird,” Steve reassures with a quiet chuckle.

You flash him a hopeful glance, eyes twinkling beneath your lashes. “So we can still be friends?”

“Of course,” the boy scoffs. “Who else am I gonna run to when Robin’s annoying the shit outta me?”

You try hard to bite back the smile tugging at your lips, but Steve makes it extremely difficult. “Right,” you nod, caging your beam between your teeth.

“But… you know…” Steve starts, slow and vague, as he props an elbow over the countertop. A cheeky smirk sits crooked on his mouth. “I do have it on good authority that—”

“Please don’t bring up Eddie again,” you plead jokingly.

“No. I was— I was gonna say that the guy, you know, that you wanted to ask out tonight or whatever…” the boy trails off, going suddenly shy as he averts his gaze, scruffy cheeks flaring pink. “I was just gonna say that he definitely wouldn’t say no.”

Your chest warms. “Oh…”

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “He’s had a crush on you for, like, two whole years now, so… He’s not stupid enough to turn you down.”

“Is that so?” you question with a teasing lilt, turning to face him fully. You catch his eyes falling to your mouth, for no more than a flicker of a moment, and you smirk.

“How ‘bout Benny’s Burgers?” he questions, voice low and honeyed and full of yearning. The proximity’s got his head spinning. “Tomorrow night? Six o’clock?”

“Sounds good,” you hum, trying to play it as cool as he is now.

Steve nods with a similar casualness, then swipes a golden hand through his hair when a chestnut strand falls over his forehead. “Good,” is all he says in response — lest he say more and his voice break with excitement.

You wait until the door clicks shut behind him to squeal to yourself like a teenage girl.

[apdreadful]

Two sides to every phone call..or, still Buck

Tommy’s phone dings in his pocket.

It’s a text from Chimney

Chimney: I want to go on the record, I tried to talk him out of it.

He starts to reply asking what Evan has done now, his phone rings.

“What’s he done now?” He asks as a way of greeting.

“Your man is gearing up to do something really stupid. Or more accurately not gearing up”

Tommy could hear Evan’s voice in the background “You called Tommy! What the fuck Hen?”

“Well god knows you never listen to any of us” she replies.

“Put him on” Tommy says torn between wanting to laugh and also throttle his husband.

“You’re part of my team” he hears Evan grouse “Where’s the loyalty?”

“He was part of my team first. Also, do you really want any of us to have to explain to Tommy why you went splat?”

Tommy hears a rustling, presumably Evan taking the phone, and then a masculine sigh “Hey”

“Evan” Tommy says softly

“Yeah?”

“What were you about to do that Hen and Chimney both had to reach out to me”

“Chimney too?” Bucks voice rises an octave “Et tu Bruté”

“Did you just quote Julius Caesar?”

“Yes. I do know how to read, babe. I’m more than just a pretty face”

Tommy pauses for a beat, and when he speaks his voice has taken on a different tone “I am both annoyed and totally turned on by you right now. A state which I am becoming more and more accustomed to”

“You got a boner?” Evan stage whispers.

“OH MY GOD!” He hears Hen exclaim “You’re on my phone! No boner talk on my phone”

“Sorry babe. Hen wont let me talk spicy to you on her phone. Apparently her phone isn’t into dick either” He snickers.

Tommy manages to bite back his laughter knowing that will only encourage him more.

“Evan” he repeats.

Buck clears his throat. “Yes?”

“What were you about to do?”

Buck hesitates “Well..Crawl up an apartment building, balcony to balcony”

“Without a harness!” Hen yells.

“You are all the worst kind of tattletales” Evan grumbles. “It’s only like six stories”

“Evan” Tommy uses the tone that always gets Bucks attention.

He hears Bucks small intake of breath “Babe. You cannot use the bossy bedroom voice on me when I’m at work” he says huskily.

“Oh for fucks sake! Give me back my phone. Ya’ll are worse than a bunch of horny teenagers”

“You’re the one who called him to tattle on me and handed me your phone”

“Not for you to have phone sex with him. I swear the two of you are actually worse since you got married.”

“Awww thanks Hen” Buck says sweetly.

“That wasn’t a compliment”

“I’m choosing to take it as one though” he volleys back.

“Evan, please do not attempt to climb up a building without a harness” Tommy asks.

::Silence::

“Evan?”

“Ok. I won’t”

“Thank you. I’ll see you tonight. I love you”

“Love you too” Buck replies.

“Be safe” they say almost simultaneously.

Tommy grins as he ends the call and slips it back into his pocket.

“Judging from the dopey ass look on your face. That was Buckley”

“Don’t be jealous, Hayes” he winks.

Buck:

Buck hands the phone back to Hen “Still think you’re a tattletale.”

Hen narrows her eyes at him “That was surprisingly easy”

“What?” Buck says as he heads to the rig to get a harness and ropes.

“Did he threaten to put you over his knee if you did it anyway?”

Buck snorts out a laugh “Like that would have been a deterrent..He asked me not to go up without a harness”

Both Chimney and Hen gape at him “That’s it?? He asked you?”

Evan shrugs “Yes” after a few moments he adds “He’s my somebody, that person that needs me to come home to him”

Hen smiles softly and gives Buck a one armed hug “I like this married Buck. He’s a lot more sensible”

“Regular sex will do that for you!” He quips with a wink.

Hen makes a gagging sound “Never mind, still Buck”

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/55979032"

[sunaluv]

I love the "Come get your man" series could you make a pt4????[you do not have to]

I love your work sm!!!keep doing what your doing!!!

Drink water, take breaks when needed, take care of your health both mentally & physically!!and see you next ask♡

wooo we back at it again! thanks for checking in on me bae 🥲 take care of yourselves too!

also thanks for 1k followers 🥳

part 3

feat. kenma, tsukishima, iwaizumi

steamer!KENMA

kenma loves his job. as a professional streamer he’s his own boss, he doesn’t have to be around people too often and he’s become really fond of his little online community (not that he’d admit that out loud).

it’s been a week since your unplanned debut on his channel. you didn’t realize he was recording when you came to drop of his snacks, doing your daily check in. ever since, all the tags with his stream name were aggressively loving, basically demanding him to bring back their ‘mother’ to the screen.

you drop in every now and then to remind his viewers to look after themselves, jokingly scolding them for not looking after your man aswell but it’s all fun and games on both ends.

whilst watching his stream in the room next door, you can help but notice a user in particular.

@/kodzubae: LMAOOO i thought he would be dating someone much prettier😭 didn’t know kodzu did charity cases.

even though the chat was moving before you could read all the comments, your eyes always managed to find whatever the user said about you, and none of it was nice. you didn’t have to be told not to read the comments— it’s an unspoken fact but your eyes and brain always seem to betray you, feeding into your minor insecurities.

you haven’t even realized you were staring at a blank screen. kenmas’ stream had ended whilst you were too lost in your thoughts.

“…you alright?” he asked hesitantly.

though your eyes lit up and your lips quirked at the sight of your boyfriend, he knew something was up— call it a sixth sense of his.

you wordlessly tried to convince him that you were okay, talking and joking the rest of the night until you fell asleep in his embrace but none of it felt genuine. he didn’t want to pry, but it physically hurt him to see you hiding things from him.

totally disregarding the first rules of boyfriend 101: “don’t go through your partners phone!”, kenma unlocked your phone, instantly frowning at the screen before him.

it was her twitter page. kenma knew his lifelong fans, and the handle on your screen now was one of them, except it was full of fan behavior for him and blatant hatred for you.

he felt bad.

it wasn’t exactly his fault, but he still felt responsible for the digs at you that were happening on his live.

the next day, you had woken up hours after kenma. you tend to do that when you sleep with a heavy heart.

in the distance, you could hear him talking, probably streaming. so you opened his stream on your phone and tuned in right on time.

“hey guys,” he greeted. “before we start i want to say something…i’ve become aware that ever since ‘mother’,” he emphasized on the quote marks. “made her first appearance, some of you have not been the nicest to her online and i just want to say that that’s a boundary that absolutely cannot be crossed.”

@/user1: WHAT? WHO HURT MOTHER

@/user2: i hope she’s okay :( luv u mom

@/user3: we’re just going to skip over the fact that he acknowledges them as our parents? okay…

@/user4: cross ken >:( cross ken >:(

“so from here on out, any hate towards her will be an instant block. i’ve told my mods too so behave…” he firmly, yet gently scolded.

“now that’s out of the way, today we’ll be…”

you watched the rest of the stream with a smile on your face. though you were working on voicing your concerns and discomfort, it was nice to know that kenma is willing to work for you whilst he waited.

TSUKISHIMA (tall!reader)

“you look so much taller when you’re not welded into tsukkis’ side, ya know?”

startled, you angled your neck down to see one of your classmates.

you had been avoiding her, and she, you. but it seems she’s finally willing to break this ongoing silent tension fest between you two.

“what do you want.” you deadpanned.

she gasped. “you’re too mean! tsukishima doesn’t deserve to be with someone like you, he deserves someone who is more down to earth, you get me?”

she eyed you up and down to emphasize her point.

taking your silence as willingness to listen, she continued. “i mean your too tall! granted he is too but opposites attract, he needs someone who will look good with him, like me.”

you folded your lips inward to contain your laughter. you and basically everyone knew about this girls love for your boyfriend, but you never pegged her as the type to come at you like this.

“you can have him if you want,” you waved. “kei looooves short girls.”

her eyes lit up in victory, obviously not sensing your sarcasm. “cool, just make sure you break up with him today because-“

“nobody is breaking up with anyone.” a voice shot.

low and behold, your six foot something boyfriend shutting down any advances you were planning to set him up with. though he joined the conversation, he only appeared to be addressing you.

“kei! i-“

“tsukishima.”

“tsukki! i-”

“no.”

he made eye contact with your smirking face over the girls head. “you were just gonna throw me to the wolves like that?” he asked offended.

you chucked. “there’s no wolves kei, look at her” you pinched the cheek of the stunned girl stood in between you two. “she’s harmless, like a poodle.”

she stood, mouth open seemingly in shock.

looking back at him, his face did not let up. you sighed.

“i’m sorry kei,” you breathed through your nose. “i will never subject you to such a horrible, earth shattering, torturous-“

“that’s enough, my god” he groaned. grabbing your wrist, he dragged you by the wrist, only slowing down when you rounded the corner, out of the girls view.

“you know i was joking, right.” you poked his cheek, to which he swatted your hand away.

“i know you’re joking,” his signature smirk appeared. “after all you wouldn’t throw away the opportunity to date the guy you’ve been crushing on for as long as you’ve been here. if i recall, your confession went along the lines of ‘i-“

you slapped your hand over his mouth in embarrassment. leave it to the guy to turn your confession into a weapon against you.

you playfully bickered down the rest of the hall, forgetting all about the girl who had tried to take your place earlier.

IWAIZUMI

“are you sure you’re not only using him to like, get to oikawa or something?”

the first words this girl had spoken to you. you don’t know who she is, or where she came from but she has some nerve coming with such a ridiculous question considering you haven’t formally met before.

“excuse me?”

“you heard me,” her tone was now accusatory. “i’ve seen many girls do iwa dirty because they want oikawa so if that’s the case save yourself an ass beating and leave him alone!”

you don’t know if you have bad memory or what because you don’t know who this girl is and as far as your concerned, neither does your boyfriend.

“i’m sorry, are you a friend of his?” you were more confused than anything.

“i am his and he is mine.”

woah.

you didn’t want to accuse her, but every sign she was showing pointed to a major case of FDS (fan delusion syndrome), a case of the crazies found in fans of the oikawa toru founded by you, maki and mattsun, but you were unaware that this case was also present in your boyfriends own… supporters.

you don’t blame them though because your man is a total hunkkkk. anyways.

right on queue, the door slid open and both of your heads turned to meet hajime’s, and of course he has to show up with a sweaty face, shirt practically clinging to his defined body.

“hajime!” the girl called, running and stopping infront of him. “she’s using you do get to oikawa, break up with her!”

he followed the finger that was pointed to you— confused and lost in the middle of the gym.

“that’s my girlfriend, she doesn’t like him like that.”

the sound of a shattered heart pierced the sudden silence. “w-w-what do you mean girlfriend, she’s after toru i’m sure of it!”

a humorless chuckle sounded from his throat. “trust me, she doesn’t ”

being cautious not to set the girl off, he traversed around her, and straight to you who watched the whole interaction both concerned and amused.

“wowww,” you breathed. “i didn’t know you were also a cause for FDS.”

“what?”

“nothing,” you straightened. “i don’t blame her though. i would go crazy if you walked around looking like that too.”

his face flushed and he turned away. “stop saying things like that…”

you smiled, poking his cheek. “what, i can’t appreciate my boyfriend who’s built like he was carved from the greek gods himself?”

he walked away after pushing your face with his hand, drowning your chuckle.

“c’mon haji, don’t be like that,” you chased after him. “you have to be feeling yourself a little after seeing the affect you have of the seijoh population!”

the girl watched as you made her ‘man’ flush, comment after comment, feeling numb as she watched him get more and more out of his reach.

[lividstar]

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎THE CITY OF LOVE

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Two: Unexpected Encounters

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 8k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ You were now on your fifth job hunt for the week, and even though you were hoping for it to, for once, actually turn out to be a success, indifference spreads through you as the search concludes on a dead end once again. Just as you were about to head home, a sudden surprise catches up to you, nearly out of breath.

a/n: i should probably make a taglist for this... let me know if you want to be added :D

You’ve never really realized how hard it is to go through days without losing your mind when you’re unable to write your thoughts down, which is the only way you know how to keep your mind in check. At least until now that you’re on your fifth job hunt for the week, and you’re still met with nothing but polite rejections.

You felt like you were one risky step away from going insane. First off, you had no one to confide in regarding your frustrations—Madame Dupont once tried coaxing you into opening up but you refused, not wanting to bother her, no quote unquote friend of yours from Arcadia Bay kept in check with you after you moved countries, and most importantly, you don’t want your parents to know how much you’re struggling because then that would only do nothing but taint the independent imagery of you that you want them to keep for eternity.

Your journal had always been your only companion ever since a classmate of yours back in your days as a highschool student recommended it to you as a potential way to be able to express all the emotions you’ve been bottling up—you could no longer remember his name, but you hope he’s currently living his best life, wherever he is right now.

It all began one day when you were sat in the very back of the classroom, eyes shifting back and forth between focusing and losing its firm gaze as you did everything in your power not to let the different emotions in your heart combined into a thunderstorm escape from your ribs you’ve grown to refer to as what serves as the metal bars that keep your feelings caged and away from whatever was outside your little bubble. Your ears rang in a volume so insufferable you swore blood was nearly being pulled out from the inside, and you did your very best not to lose control of your body, because then, the repetitive sounds of you rapidly bouncing your feet on the concrete floor would draw everyone’s attention.

What’s worse was you had no idea what was happening to you. You’ve never spoken past a word to any of your classmates, and the only moments they were lucky enough to hear the sound of your voice was if the teacher would conduct an eenie-meenie to choose who would answer the complex question he had written on the board and you ended up being the (un)lucky winner of his personal lottery. You never speak unless spoken to, and perhaps that was why a few of your fellow schoolmates raised suspicions about you being mute—because no one ever really bothered to talk to you.

So then, you thought you were doing an exceptional job at trying to put a faltering mask on and act like you weren’t nearly losing your mind. No one knew you well enough back then to see right through you and be able to notice if there was anything off about your usual behavior—the counselor would occasionally be your confidant, but her words barely helped with anything. You can’t blame her for only taking up the job for the paycheck, but if that’s her only purpose, she might as well be good at her job, no?

Thankfully, right when the last thin string was about to snap and let you fall down at a rapid speed, the bells rang, signaling the end of the school hours for the day. You could still remember the fear you felt when everyone around you was already packing up their things and walking towards their own separated friend groups, while you remained sat, unable to move. The way you tried to place your hands on top of your desk for support to stand up, but they wouldn’t budge off your lap as if they were glued to your skin.

You were nearly trembling in fear, yet everything seemed to have been put to a halt the moment you heard the sound of a chair being pulled towards where you sat, and a hand less than a centimeter away from landing on your tense shoulders.

You couldn’t turn your head to see who it was, but given how the person sounded, you believed it was a male classmate of yours—you knew his name back then, but now? Not anymore. He was nice enough to attempt to comfort you, but not a word was brave enough to slip out of your lips. You were sure he had no negative intentions because all you knew of this boy back then was he was one of the nicest and tolerable ones in your highschool, so it wasn’t like you weren’t responding because you didn’t like him. It was more of a matter of not knowing how to.

When he was on his third sentence and you still couldn’t muster up a response, he drew the light touch of his hand off your shoulder, and for a fleeting moment, you were afraid he had gone tired of attempting, and you left a horrible impression on him. Just then, he asked a question you don’t believe you would’ve been able to expect even right now that you’re fully grown.

“Do you have a pen and a paper with you?”

You could only respond with as much as a short nod, and much to your surprise, your hand was no longer tense when you lifted it off your lap and lightly shoved it into your bag, searching for the objects he had requested for. After half a minute, you settled a blank piece of paper on your table, preventing it from flying away by placing a pen on top of it. What he said next was even more unexpected.

“Could you try to write down how you feel right now? Only if that’s okay with you.”

You were afraid of turning your head and letting him see right through you even further, so even if there was a hint of hesitance spreading all over you, you gathered enough courage to pick up the pen and do as he said.

I don’t know what to call what I’m feeling right now. I can’t get myself to calm down, and I feel like I’m one step away from having an outburst. I don’t know what to do.

Once you finished writing your answer down, you laid the tips of your fingers down on the paper’s surface, dragging it towards your right, where he sat. He leaned in to read what you had written, and for a moment, you were half-expecting him to either laugh at you or get weirded out, but instead, you were met with the sound of an understanding hum.

“How long have you been bottling up your emotions?”

You could still vividly remember the initial shock those words sent right through the very core of your heart. It was a simple question, but it was as if he was able to see right through you—a first. You picked up the pen once more, leaning in as well without realizing your faces were only a couple inches away from each other.

Forever? I just don’t know how to let it out in a way that doesn’t make me feel weird. I was never taught how to be expressive about my emotions.

“Have you ever thought about getting yourself a journal?” was what he asked, and you responded with a mere shake of your head. A hum of understanding was heard from him once more, before he told you to stay still in your seat and wait for him. The moment he came back, there was a notebook with a vintage pattern of pink roses in his hands.

This time, your confusion was uplifted enough to fully turn your head to him. Right now, looking back at it, the memory provided a clear vision of everything except for his face—it was blurred, something you could no longer remember. But when you were in that very moment, you swear you nearly compared him to the clear view of the sunset you were granted with thanks to your seat’s position in class.

“Here. From now on, you can use this as your personal journal. When you can’t figure out what you’re feeling, or if you need to let it all out, the only thing you have to do is pull this out along with a pen, and from then on, you can start writing away. Let yourself get lost in your own world.”

You could still remember how you both found yourselves staring into each other’s eyes at least a little longer than you were supposed to, until he took it upon himself to be the one to break it first. He stood up, pulling the chair he sat himself on back to its rightful place, and began packing his things. All you could do that moment was remain in your seat, with a gaze refusing to let him go.

When he was about to leave the classroom, he turned his head back once more, sending a soft smile and a bid of farewell before heading out. Only then when you were left all by yourself did you realize everyone else had already gone home, and the whole time he was talking to you, you were both alone together.

He was the only fleeting memory of your highschool days that remains stuck with you even until now.

You stared blankly at your ceiling, letting yourself get lost in the serene calmness of the evening. Not only did you value your journal because it contained every single thought of yours that you would never consider telling a soul, but also because of the history it holds. You decided to re-customize it and turn it into a plain, pitch black over the years, but its value remains the same.

You don’t remember anything about him anymore, and your notebook was the only thing that served as a bridge between the chasm that separates both of you. It’s funny, because you doubt that moment was anything but a normal occurence to him. If only he knew he was the one who did the kickstart to your changes in life. Sighing, you closed your eyes, with the hope that your job search will finally come to a successful conclusion tomorrow.

Meanwhile, on the other side of Paris, the city was still young—full of life and vibrantly shining, a stark contrast to the quiet night sky above. There in a restaurant sat Seonghwa across Hongjoong, who had completely lost himself in sketching designs on a new notebook he bought just a day ago.

“You’re really serious about starting all over again with your designs?” Seonghwa tilted his head, leaning forward to see what Hongjoong was working on, only for him to get told off.

“Do I look like I have any other choice? It’s been nearly a week, Seonghwa. We’ve tried everything we can to look for it. Even the café’s workers weren’t able to provide helpful insight,” Hongjoong said, brows furrowed in focus and precision as he tried to come up with new designs.

Seonghwa leaned back, crossing his arms. “Has it ever crossed your mind that I took you here because I wanted you to take a break from your work, and not to make you stress over your work even more?”

“A break can wait. Fashion week can’t. I’ll be fine,” Hongjoong brushed Seonghwa off. After five seconds of Seonghwa not responding, Hongjoong sighed in defeat, closing his notebook and turning his attention back to the man who sat across the table. “Look, why don’t you just let me be, and I’ll give you all the time in the world to look for the girl you saw at the bus stop?”

“Why don’t you give yourself all the time in the world to take a break just once?”

Hongjoong slumped his shoulders, hunched over in his seat. “I get that you care about my well-being, but I really don’t have time for that right now.”

“You never have time for a break, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa countered, taking the notebook from Hongjoong before he could react. Opening it, he was met with exactly what he expected—a blank page with blurry lines from erasure. “See? You can’t use your imagination to its fullest if your mind’s a total mess.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious,” Hongjoong muttered, avoiding Seonghwa’s gaze. “You know how much that sketchbook means to me, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa ran his fingers through his hair. “I know. I know that very well, Hongjoong. But that’s not the point. If you’re planning on settling on making new designs until you get your sketchbook back, then you have to at least clear your mind first so you’ll actually be able to come up with ideas.”

“And how do you suggest I do that?” Hongjoong asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Take a stroll around the city, maybe? It’s a good way to unwind,” Seonghwa suggested, shrugging his shoulders. “A recommendable time period to do that is during the hours of dusk till dawn.”

“Like… all by myself?” Hongjoong said, confused. “You’re saying all I have to do is walk around the city alone late at night, and it’ll magically lift my frustration off of me? Is there a hidden ulterior motive behind this?”

“If I wanted you dead, I would’ve already taken action upon it years ago, Hongjoong.” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “And no, going alone isn’t necessary. You could always, you know… look for a companion—”

“I let you have your moment to convince me into taking a break and the next thing I know is you’re taking advantage of it by trying to bring up my relationship status,” Hongjoong cut him off, groaning in frustration.

“Oh, come on, you can’t keep being like that forever!” Seonghwa threw his hands up in the air. “You’re less than 10 years away from reaching your 30’s and you’re still insisting on being single?”

“Don’t look at me like that. You know why I prefer things to stay this way,” Hongjoong mumbled, gazing outside the window, a look of sorrow starting to form in his eyes.

Seonghwa sighed. “Look, I know you’re still hung up on her, but it’s been years, Hongjoong. She’s not coming back. You need to move on, you know…?”

“Easier said than done, Seonghwa.”

“What happened to her, anyway?” Seonghwa asked, his tone growing softer. “You never told me much about it.”

“I don’t know. It was like she was there, then the next moment, she wasn’t. She disappeared without a trace, without a word, not even a call, a letter—nothing. It was like she was nothing but a fleeting dream,” Hongjoong recalled, the pain in his tone evident.

Seonghwa pursed his lips, feeling guilty for bringing the situation up. Hongjoong was quick to notice, though, making him wave Seonghwa off. “Don’t feel bad for asking about it.”

Silence engulfed both of them, less of the awkward kind and more melancholic. After what felt like an eternity, Seonghwa finally spoke up, steering the conversation back into the main topic.

“I know you can’t bring yourself to be on the same page as I am, but trust me, taking a stroll works really well. I’ve done it a lot of times already.” Seonghwa leaned forward, trying to persuade Hongjoong. “Try it out sometime? It’s totally fine if you want to do it alone, of course.”

Hongjoong sighed in defeat. “Fine, I’ll try if I have time. If it turns out to be a huge failure, I’m no longer bringing myself to trust your words.”

“No need to threaten me. I can already tell it’ll turn out well.”

—

The sound of the birds singing their melodies as they sat by the tree in front of your window made your eyes flutter open, yet they closed shut just as quick the moment you turned over and nearly got blinded by the thin ray of sunlight passing through the tiny gap between your curtains. You rubbed your eyes, taking a moment before opening them once more. Once you were certain you were fully conscious, you sat up, stretching your arms after leaning back on your headboard. You looked at the digital clock you had placed on your bedside table, and it read: 8:01 AM. You sighed softly.

Another day for a job hunt with a 0.1% chance of ending on a good note.

You pulled the blankets draped over your figure off, letting your feet land softly on the floor as you stood up, this time stretching your entire body. You turned back to your bed, tidying it up before anything else. Once you were satisfied with the outcome, you made your way towards the bathroom, taking a minute to let your appearance sink in. There were light bags under your eyes, and you’re certain it wouldn’t take a stranger more than a single look to notice how tired you look. Sighing, you stepped inside the shower and took your clothes off, letting yourself melt away along with the warm drops of water that slid down on the surface of your skin.

After a thorough and refreshing shower, you dry off and wrap yourself in a soft, fluffy towel. The warmth of the shower water lingers on your skin, a small comfort in the face of the day's impending challenges. You take a moment to pamper yourself, applying a light moisturizer to keep your skin feeling smooth and hydrated. With each methodical step, you focus on maintaining a sense of calmness, trying to stave off the creeping anxiety of another potentially fruitless day.

Next, you move to your bedroom and open the closet. The selection is limited, a reflection of your dwindling budget, but you choose an outfit that makes you feel both comfortable and confident. You pull out a soft, cream-colored blouse made of a lightweight, breathable fabric. The blouse has delicate lace trim along the cuffs and neckline, giving it a touch of elegance. You pair it with a light, flowing skirt in a pastel floral pattern that falls just below your knees that sways gently with each movement.

You complete the ensemble with a pair of simple ballet flats in a matching cream shade. They are worn but still manage to look stylish, providing the comfort needed for a day spent navigating the streets of Paris. As a final touch, you choose a dainty gold necklace with a small pendant that rests gently against your collarbone, a gift from your grandmother that always brings you a sense of comfort and connection to home.

Standing before the mirror, you take a moment to brush your hair, allowing it to fall naturally around your shoulders. You apply a light touch of makeup—just enough to brighten your features and hide the evidence of your restless nights. Once you’re done, you give yourself a final, encouraging smile in the mirror, hoping that today will bring better luck.

Once dressed and ready, you head to the kitchen to make breakfast. Opening the cupboard, you’re greeted by the sight of only three cups of ramen left, a stark reminder of your dire financial situation. Your stomach twists with a mix of hunger and anxiety as you consider your options. You can’t keep surviving on instant noodles; you need to find a job soon, or you’ll risk running out of even the most basic supplies.

You take one of the cups of ramen and prepare it, boiling water and pouring it into the cup. As you wait for the noodles to soften, you lean against the counter, staring out of the small window above the sink. The morning light filters in, casting a soft glow over the modest kitchen. Despite the beauty of the Parisian morning, you can’t help but feel like the anchor of your struggles is weighing you down.

With breakfast ready, you sit at the small table in the corner of your kitchen. The steam rises from the cup of ramen, and you take a moment to appreciate the warmth it brings. As you eat, you let your mind wander, thinking about the places you’ll visit today in your job search, the people you’ll meet, and the potential opportunities that might arise.

Once you finish eating and begin cleaning up the dining table, a thought strikes you: the memory of the foreign, fancier part of the city you accidentally stumbled upon on your first day of job hunting. You hadn’t fully explored it, and given its apparent high status, it seemed like a promising place to search for employment. The only problem was you didn’t remember exactly how you got there.

Determined to try your luck, you step out of your apartment and begin your journey. Just as you reach the end of the hallway, you cross paths with Madame Dupont. Her kind eyes light up when she sees you, and she greets you with a warm smile.

“Bonjour, my dear! How is the job search going?” she asks, her voice filled with genuine concern.

You return her smile, doing your best to maintain a positive facade. “Bonjour, Madame Dupont. It’s been challenging, but I’m not giving up. Actually, I was planning to head to a specific part of the city today, but I’m not sure how to get there. I only stumbled upon it by accident the first time.”

Madame Dupont raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Can you describe it for me?”

You nod, taking a moment to recall the details. “It’s a very elegant area, with wide streets lined with high-end boutiques and cafes. The buildings are all beautifully maintained, with ornate facades and large windows. There’s a small park with a fountain in the center, and I remember seeing people dressed quite fashionably, as if it’s a place frequented by those of a higher status.”

Madame Dupont’s face brightens with recognition. “Ah, I know exactly where you mean! That’s the Rue de la Paix district. It’s indeed a very prestigious part of the city. To get there, you’ll want to take the metro to the Opéra station, then it’s just a short walk down the avenue. You can’t miss it.”

Relief floods through you, and you offer her a grateful smile. “Thank you so much, Madame Dupont. That really means a lot.”

She pats your arm gently. “Of course, my dear. I’m sure you’ll find something today. Good luck, and don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything.”

With renewed determination, you bid her farewell and make your way to the metro station. Following Madame Dupont’s directions, you navigate the bustling underground system with ease, boarding the train that will take you to the Opéra station. As the train glides through the city, you allow yourself to relax, the rhythmic clattering of the wheels providing a calming backdrop to your thoughts.

When the train pulls into the Opéra station, you step off and follow the signs to the exit. Emerging onto the street, you’re greeted by the sight of the magnificent Palais Garnier opera house, its grand architecture a stunning example of the city’s rich cultural heritage. You take a moment to admire the building before setting off down the avenue as Madame Dupont instructed.

The walk to Rue de la Paix is short and pleasant. The wide boulevard is lined with luxurious boutiques and elegant cafes, just as you remembered. The buildings are indeed beautifully maintained, with their ornate facades and large windows creating an air of sophistication and wealth. The small park with its charming fountain serves as a tranquil oasis amidst the streets.

As you take in the sights and sounds of the district, you can’t help but feel a sense of optimism. The people here are well-dressed and exude an aura of confidence and success. If you could manage to land a job in this area, it would undoubtedly open many doors for you.

With this thought in mind, you begin your search. You walk into several boutiques and cafes, inquiring about job openings and handing out your resume. Each rejection stings a little less, fueled by the hope that this district holds the key to your future success. You remind yourself to keep pushing forward, knowing that persistence is your greatest ally in this journey.

Well, even if you had your hopes up high, it’s still just as you expected.

Hours passed, and the sun was now setting, casting a golden hue over the picturesque streets of Rue de la Paix. You decided to head to the small park you’d come across earlier, seeking solace in its tranquil atmosphere. Finding an empty bench, you sat down, setting your resume on your lap and letting out a heavy sigh.

The weight of the day was heavy, and despite your determination, a sense of defeat began to creep in. As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, you reflected on the countless rejections you had faced today. Your heart ached with a familiar loneliness, a gnawing feeling that perhaps you were out of place in this glamorous part of the city. Each boutique and cafe you’d walked into had left you with a bittersweet taste of missed opportunities and the distant dream of success.

You couldn’t help but feel a little envious of the people around you, who seemed to glide effortlessly through their days, basking in the luxury and elegance of their surroundings. Your mind wandered back to the comfort of your journal, the one thing that had always been a steady companion through your struggles. But even that solace was out of reach now, leaving you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

Your thoughts spiraled, questioning your decision to move to Paris, to leave behind the familiarity of Arcadia Bay for a city that seemed to hold endless challenges. Doubts began to creep in, whispering that perhaps you weren’t cut out for this life, that the independent image you wanted to maintain for your parents was slipping through your fingers.

You sighed in defeat, thinking that maybe today wasn’t your luckiest day. Standing up, you were about to leave the park and head back to your apartment when you heard rapid footsteps behind you.

“Wait!”

You turned your head around, met with the sight of a seemingly familiar-looking man—the one you saw on the other side of the road the day you accidentally stumbled upon this area of Paris. You raised both your eyebrows, waiting for him to draw nearer to see if he was referring to you when he said to wait. When he was finally standing in front of you, catching his breath, your suspicions were confirmed.

“Sorry, I just—” he managed to say between ragged breaths, a hand on his heart as he tried to settle himself down. Looking at him blankly, you took out a bottle of water from your bag and handed it to him. He looked at you with both surprise and confusion.

“I think you need it,” you said, your voice calm and warm despite the exhaustion you felt.

He nodded, taking the bottle gratefully. “Thank you,” he said before chugging the water and then throwing the empty bottle in a nearby bin. He turned back to you, a mixture of relief and curiosity in his eyes. “Thanks again. I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

You offered him a small smile. “It’s no problem. But… what do you mean? Do we know each other?”

He chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. “Not exactly. I saw you the other day, across the road. I work around here, and I’ve been meaning to approach you. I’m Seonghwa, by the way.”

You smiled, your curiosity piqued. “Nice to meet you, Seonghwa. What made you want to approach me?”

Seonghwa’s expression turned serious, though his demeanor remained friendly. “I’m a talent scout, specifically for models. I work with a fashion designer who’s always on the lookout for fresh faces. When I saw you, something about you stood out. You have a unique presence that I think could really shine in the industry.”

You blinked, taken aback by his words. “Oh, a model? I’ve never thought about that before…”

He smiled, sensing your hesitation. “I understand it might be a lot to take in, but I really believe you have potential. We’re actually holding an open casting soon, and I’d love for you to come by and give it a shot. No pressure, of course.”

You looked down, considering his words. It seemed like an unexpected opportunity, something that could change the course of your current struggle. “I appreciate the offer. It’s just… I’m not sure if I’m cut out for that world.”

Seonghwa nodded, his gaze reassuring. “I get it. But sometimes, the best opportunities come from stepping out of our comfort zones. You never know until you try.”

His words resonated with you, and you found yourself nodding slowly. “Alright, I’ll think about it. Thank you for the offer, Seonghwa.”

He smiled warmly. “That’s all I can ask. Here’s my card. Feel free to reach out if you have any questions or if you decide to give it a go.”

Seonghwa’s gaze was warm and sincere as he continued, shifting the conversation into something more casual. “Are you new here?”

You smiled, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck. “Was it that obvious?”

Seonghwa waved you off. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I just haven’t seen you around before. When did you arrive here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Just a week ago. I’ve been on a job hunt since then, so that’s why I went to this part of the city,” you explained. “I’m still trying to get comfortable with my surroundings, though.”

He nodded in understanding. “Paris can be pretty overwhelming. I remember feeling lost when I first moved here. But sometimes, it’s the unplanned encounters that make the journey worthwhile.”

You smiled, appreciating his attempt to make you feel at ease. “Yeah, it’s definitely been an adjustment. Every corner of this city feels like it has a story, and I’m just trying to find my place in it.”

Seonghwa tucked a stray strand of his hair behind his ear, his posture relaxed. “It’s a process, but you’ll get there. You seem like someone who’s determined and resourceful. That’s half the battle won already.”

His words were reassuring, and you felt a small smile forming on your lips. “Thanks. That means a lot. I guess I just need to keep pushing forward.”

He nodded. “Exactly. And about the modeling—no need to decide right away. Take your time. If it’s something you’re curious about, just give me a call. Sometimes, the most unexpected paths can lead to the most rewarding experiences.”

You looked at him, feeling a genuine connection. “I’ll definitely think about it.”

As you both stood there, the park’s tranquility wrapping around you, it felt like the beginning of something new. You realized that while today hadn’t gone as planned, it had led to an encounter that could open doors you hadn’t even considered.

“Take care,” Seonghwa said, giving you a final nod before turning to leave.

“You too,” you replied, watching him walk away, feeling a newfound sense of possibility.

As you made your way back to your apartment, you retraced the path you had taken to Rue de la Paix, feeling a mix of exhaustion and a glimmer of hope. The bustling streets began to quiet down as the day transitioned into evening, the soft hum of the city’s nightlife starting to emerge. You navigated the narrow alleys and charming boulevards, the flickering streetlights casting long shadows on the cobblestones.

The route took you past the quaint cafes where locals and tourists alike were enjoying their evening meals, and through the elegant shopping district, now closing down for the night. You glanced at the beautifully dressed windows, a reminder of the world you were trying to break into. With each step, you felt the day’s events replaying in your mind, from the polite rejections to the unexpected encounter with Seonghwa.

Finally, you turned the corner onto your street, the familiar sight of your apartment building coming into view. As you approached, you noticed Madame Dupont standing outside, engaged in a lively conversation with another tenant. Her presence was a comforting constant in your new life here.

When she saw you, Madame Dupont’s face lit up with a warm smile. “Was it a success?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity and concern.

You looked down at the business card in your hands, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Guess we have yet to find out, Madame Dupont.”

With a nod and a reassuring smile from her, you made your way inside, feeling a sense of cautious optimism about what tomorrow might bring.

Seonghwa then arrives at Hongjoong’s penthouse, and as he steps inside, the luxurious space contrasts starkly with the simple park where he met you earlier.

Hongjoong, who had been lounging in his living room with a book, looked up, his expression a mix of curiosity and mild irritation. “Care to tell me how good this news you have for me is? Just so that I know my alone time was interrupted for a good cause.”

Seonghwa grinned, the excitement clear in his eyes. “Oh, definitely worth it. You’re going to want to hear this.” He took a seat opposite Hongjoong and began to recount the entire encounter.

“So, remember the girl I told you about? I was at the park today when I saw her. She wasn’t just sitting there, she was actually about to leave. I noticed her standing up from one of the benches, looking like she was about to head home. I couldn’t let the chance slip by, so I ran towards her, calling out for her to wait.”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You… ran? Like, ran after her?” he said, mildly appalled.

Seonghwa nodded, a bit sheepishly. “Uh, yeah. I mean, I must have looked a bit crazy, but I didn’t want to miss the opportunity. When she turned around, she looked a bit surprised, but there was this unique energy she held with her when I finally got to stand face to face with her. She has this presence—warm but with a sort of quiet strength. It’s hard to describe, like it’s something you’re either bound to feel or not.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, listening intently. “So? What did you say to her?”

Seonghwa smiled, remembering the encounter vividly. “I was a bit out of breath when I reached her, so the first thing she did was hand me a bottle of water from her bag. It was such a small gesture, but it felt genuine. I thanked her and explained who I was, and why I had run after her.”

He continued. “She was polite, a bit reserved, but there was this genuine interest in her eyes. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone; she was just herself. We chatted a bit about how she ended up in this part of the city. She told me about her struggles finding a job, and how she had hoped to find something in Rue de la Paix.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly, taking in Seonghwa’s words. “So she is new. What was your first impression of her?”

“Up close, she’s even more striking—there’s something about her eyes, they’re so expressive. She has this natural elegance that I think would be perfect for our brand. Despite her situation, she seemed hopeful, determined. She has this warmth about her that I think would resonate well with people.”

Hongjoong, though still skeptical, was intrigued. “Did you manage to get her name?”

Seonghwa winced slightly. “Oh. Well, no, unfortunately. But I did give her my card, and I tried to persuade her to consider coming to our casting. I think I made a good impression. She seemed interested, even if she was a bit unsure. I’m positive she’ll consider it.”

Hongjoong sighed, still not entirely convinced but trusting Seonghwa’s judgment. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it. But next time, try to get a name.”

Seonghwa smiled, relieved. “Will do. I really think she could be the fresh face we’ve been looking for.”

You, on the other hand, had lost count of how many times you had rolled around in bed. Sleep eluded you, and it felt strange because usually, it was easy for you to get tired and your body would yearn for moments of slumber. Sighing, you opened your eyes and sat up, leaning against the headboard. Reaching over to the bedside table, you grabbed your phone, the bright light nearly blinding you. Squinting, you quickly lowered the brightness to the lowest level.

Once the glare was manageable, you found yourself staring blankly at your lockscreen—a photo of Arcadia Bay’s lighthouse. You had taken the picture on the day you got fired from your job at a diner because the owner found out you were the one secretly eating the ingredients. It had been a horrible day—not because you lost yet another job, but because you really liked the way their potatoes tasted. You remembered walking home with your shoulders hunched over, feeling dejected. But then, the lighthouse came into view, perfectly highlighted by the golden hour. You couldn’t resist capturing the serene moment, and it became your lockscreen ever since. Maybe someday, once you’re properly settled, it would be replaced by a photo of the Eiffel Tower lit up at night.

Snapping out of your reverie, you unlocked your phone and began browsing the internet to pass the time. You scrolled through social media, coming across a variety of random posts and videos. There were adorable clips of cats doing silly things, travel vlogs showcasing beautiful destinations, and motivational quotes superimposed on scenic backgrounds. You watched a video of a chef demonstrating how to make a perfect soufflé, then moved on to a compilation of the vertigo effect being used in movie scenes.

As you continued your aimless scrolling, an article title caught your eye: ”Ever wondered why you can’t sleep at night?” Intrigued, you clicked on the link. The article opened with a brief introduction about how common sleep troubles are and how they can be influenced by various factors. It discussed the usual suspects: stress, diet, lack of exercise, and an irregular sleep schedule.

You found yourself nodding along as you read, thinking about how some of these reasons might apply to you. The article elaborated on how stress from major life changes, like moving to a new city and job hunting, could wreak havoc on your sleep patterns. It mentioned how certain foods, especially those high in sugar or caffeine, could make it harder to fall asleep.

The next section delved into the impact of screen time. The article explained that exposure to blue light from phones, tablets, and computers could interfere with your body’s natural circadian rhythm. Blue light suppresses the production of melatonin, the hormone that regulates sleep, making it harder for you to fall asleep at a reasonable hour. You glanced at your phone, feeling a twinge of guilt but continued reading.

The article also touched on the importance of creating a comfortable sleeping environment. It emphasized the need for a cool, dark, and quiet room to foster better sleep. It suggested using blackout curtains, earplugs, or a white noise machine to eliminate distractions. You made a mental note to consider some of these adjustments, thinking about how you could improve your current setup.

Then, as you scrolled deeper into the article, you reached a section that listed possible reasons for not being able to sleep at night. The usual reasons were there: too much screen time before bed, an uncomfortable sleeping environment, underlying health issues, and more. But it was the last reason that truly caught your attention: “Someone may be thinking of you.”

Intrigued, you read further. The article explained that some people believe in the concept of a psychic connection, where thoughts and feelings can be transferred between individuals, especially those who share a close bond. It suggested that if someone is thinking intensely about you, it could create an energetic disturbance that might affect your sleep.

The article elaborated further: “This idea, although seemingly far-fetched to many, has roots in various cultural and spiritual beliefs. The notion is that when someone thinks about you intensely, their mental energy can reach out across distances, subtly impacting your own energy field. This might manifest as restlessness, sudden thoughts of the person, or difficulty in falling asleep.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth to this. The article continued to delve into anecdotal evidence and testimonials from people who claimed to have experienced this phenomenon. There were stories of individuals who felt a sudden, unexplainable urge to contact someone, only to find out that the person had been thinking of them at that very moment. Other accounts described how people would dream of someone they hadn’t seen in years, only to receive a message from that person the next day.

The article suggested that this psychic connection could be stronger between people who share a deep emotional bond, such as family members, close friends, or romantic partners. It posited that these connections might be more prevalent during times of emotional intensity or major life changes, when thoughts and feelings are more powerful and focused.

As you pondered this notion, you thought back to the day’s events and the unexpected encounter with Seonghwa. Could it be possible that his thoughts were reaching out to you in some way? The article mentioned that sometimes, when someone is intensely focused on you, their thoughts could reach you, creating a sense of connection or unease. You considered the possibility that Seonghwa’s genuine interest and focus on you might be the reason for your restlessness. Or was it caused by an entirely different person?

Nevertheless, since you were already thinking of Seonghwa, your mind eventually drifted to the card he had given you. You reached over to your bedside table and picked it up, turning it over in your hands. The simple, elegant card had Seonghwa’s name and phone number neatly printed. You traced the embossed letters with your thumb, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety.

You thought back to your encounter with Seonghwa in the park. The way he had approached you, breathless and earnest, was still vivid in your mind. His genuine interest in you had been flattering, but also overwhelming. You had never seriously considered a career in fashion or modeling before. Sure, you had dabbled in amateur photography and enjoyed dressing up for special occasions solely for the fun it provides, but could you really make a living out of it?

Your thoughts spiraled as you weighed the pros and cons. On one hand, Seonghwa seemed convinced that you had the potential to succeed. His confidence was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. A career in fashion could bring about the major change you had always longed for. It would be a chance to reinvent yourself, to step out of the shadow of your past failures and truly shine.

The prospect of entering the world of fashion was incredibly appealing. You had always admired the creativity and artistry behind it. Being a part of this vibrant industry could open doors you had never even dreamed of. The connections, the experiences, the opportunity to travel and meet new people—it was all so enticing.

But then, doubts began to creep in. What if you weren’t cut out for the world of fashion? It was a fiercely competitive industry, and you had no formal training or experience. You imagined the rigorous casting calls, the endless critiques, and the constant pressure to maintain a certain image. Could you handle that kind of scrutiny? You had always been more comfortable blending into the background, avoiding the spotlight. Modeling would require you to be confident, outgoing, and resilient—all traits you weren’t sure you possessed.

You also considered the practicalities. How would you balance a demanding career with your other responsibilities? Would you have enough time and energy to devote to your passion projects and personal life? The thought of juggling multiple commitments was daunting.

There was also the fear of failure. What if you took the plunge and it didn’t work out? The fashion industry was notorious for its fickleness. One moment you could be in demand, and the next, forgotten. You had already experienced your fair share of setbacks and disappointments. Could you handle another one? The idea of putting yourself out there, only to be rejected, was terrifying.

As you pondered these questions, your mind drifted to the potential impact on your personal life. Moving to Paris had been a major step in seeking a fresh start. You had hoped to leave behind the suffocating familiarity of your hometown and create new memories. But diving into the fashion world might mean sacrificing some of the simplicity and tranquility you had been seeking.

On the other hand, this opportunity could be the very change you needed. It might be the catalyst that propels you toward a brighter future. You had always believed in taking risks and embracing new experiences. Maybe this was your chance to prove to yourself that you were capable of more than you ever imagined.

You thought about the kind of person you wanted to become. You envisioned yourself walking down the streets of Paris with confidence, attending glamorous events, and working on creative projects that inspired you. This was your chance to step out of your comfort zone and embrace a new chapter.

You also considered the people you might meet along the way. Fashion was a dynamic and diverse industry, filled with individuals from all walks of life. You could form connections with like-minded creatives, learn from seasoned professionals, and perhaps even find a mentor who could guide you on your journey.

Yet there was the reality of the unknown. Despite Seonghwa’s assurance, there was no guarantee that you would succeed. The fashion world was unpredictable, and you had to be prepared for the highs and lows. You wondered if you had the resilience to bounce back from setbacks and keep pushing forward.

But then you remember that you’ve been on your fifth job hunt for the week now and you’re still empty-handed. You can’t let yourself stay like this any longer—unless you want to starve and survive on ramen noodles for the rest of your life. Sure, you could ring up your parents if you were ever to come to that point, but that would defeat the whole purpose of proving to them that you’re brave enough to handle yourself, right? You wanted to show them, and yourself, that you could make it on your own in this new city. This was supposed to be your fresh start, your chance to reinvent yourself and find success on your own terms.

You sighed, feeling the weight of your situation. How long could you continue like this, barely scraping by, constantly worrying about where your next meal would come from or if you’d be able to pay rent next month? The thought of another week of rejections was almost too much to bear. You needed something to change, something big, something that would turn your luck around.

With a deep breath, you opened your phone once more, staring at the number written on Seonghwa’s card. The decision felt monumental, as if this single call could be the turning point you desperately needed. After a moment of hesitation, you dialed the number. It rang once, twice, three times. Just as you were about to hang up, a groggy voice answered, “Hello?” You felt a pang of guilt, realizing you may have woken him up.

But you couldn’t back down now. This was too important. Gathering your courage, you spoke, “Hi, Seonghwa? It’s me—the girl from Rue de la Paix. I’m sorry for calling so late, but... could you tell me more about the casting?”

🪞 — lividstar.

[theadorableapprentice]

You Must Be Mad

MC x Solomon Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 894

A/N: Another Solomon story... But my next story will be either Satan, Barbatos, or Belphegor as I have stories planned for all three of them! I hope you enjoy this!

You were pacing in your bedroom, completely lost in your own thoughts. Not even the nasty weather outside could distract you. 

Did he really love you too? Was Asmo right? No, there was no way. Solomon keeps everyone at arms length… But Asmo would know better than anyone… Right? I mean, he seems to know Solomon the best. And Asmo had a point. Solomon does try to spend a lot of time with you. He would drop anything to help you. And there was that one time you thought he was going to kiss you… But surely you misinterpreted what was happening. Surely. 

Lightening strikes outside and you don’t stop thinking about it. Thinking about every interaction.

“MC, I saw this trinket while I was out and it reminded me of you… So here you go!”

“MC, I saw a cat that reminded me of you! Would you like to see?”

“MC, I have to go to the human world to pick something up for Diavolo. Do you want to come with? We can stop by that store you really like.”

Okay, so maybe he did go out of his way to spend time with you… But that doesn’t mean he has feelings for you. Those are totally things friends do too. 

You could almost hear Asmo’s voice in your head refuting that. “Yes, friends can do those things, but not Solomon. Stop denying it.”

Why were you denying it? If he had feelings for you back, that would be great, right? So why hasn’t he said anything? No, you know the answer to that. Fear of rejection and also there’s the whole thing of him losing so many loved ones so confessing to you could bring him more pain in the end… But wait, why should he have to confess anyways? 

No, you’re going to confess to him. You’re going to do something big and dramatic for him because he deserves that. He does big and dramatic things for you, so why shouldn’t you do something for him? But what should you do? Actually, you knew exactly what you were going to do. And hopefully he would find it equally as sweet as he will funny. 

Standing in the pouring rain outside of his window at Purgatory Hall, you wondered why you thought this was a good idea. You cast a small spell that would amplify your voice so Solomon could hear you over the rain and the thunder. 

“But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Solomon is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. Be not her maid since she is envious. Her vestal livery is but sick and green, and none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.”

Solomon appeared at the window, opening it and looking really concerned. “MC? What are you doing out there? You must be mad coming here like this!”

You smiled. “It is my gentleman, O, it is my love! O, that he knew he were! He speaks, yet he says nothing. What of that?”

Solomon looked even more confused, but a slight blush dusted his cheeks. “MC, are you quoting Shakespeare at me?”

You tried not to laugh. You skipped ahead a few lines. “He speaks! O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art as glorious to this night, being o'er my head.”

Solomon let out a small laugh. “Hold on, MC.” Solomon closed his window and a moment later the front door opened and he met you outside in the pouring rain. “It’s a little wet to be outside, don’t you think?”

“I find it increases the drama.” 

“And, why exactly are you dramatically quoting Shakespeare to me?”

You gently grabbed his hands in yours. “Solomon the Wise, the most wonderful sorcerer and best human being I know, you mean more to me than I can describe with words. When I see you or hear from you, my heart does a little happy dance.”

“MC, I-”

“Solomon, let me finish. You are one of the smartest, funniest, kindest, and most chaotic people I know. Now that you’re in my life, I would feel as if something were missing if you were gone. All of this is to say, I’m quoting Shakespeare at you because I am without a doubt in love with you… And if Asmo tells me to tell you one more time I might have to strangle him.” You chuckled at the end of that, but smiled up at Solomon.

Solomon chuckled too. “Yeah, he can be a bit persistent, can’t he? MC, you didn’t have to do all of this for me. A simple ‘I love you’ text would’ve sufficed.”

You shook your head. “No way. You deserve big dramatic gestures of love. So now that we have that established, can we have the classic kiss in the rain?”

Solomon was about to say yes when lightening struck a tree not too far away from you guys. “Maybe we should skip that and go inside.”

You hurriedly nod and follow him into Purgatory Hall. 

Not so unfortunately, you and Solomon got sick and spent the week together. You could’ve probably used magic to make things better, but where was the fun in that?

[add1ctedt0you]

Novel quotes: wei wuxian having feelings/thoughts about jiang cheng

Under the cut because it's long

However, Jiang Cheng was gone. Holding steamed buns, flatbreads, and fruits in his hands, Wei WuXian felt his heart skip a beat. He forced himself to calm down. Even after he searched through the neighboring streets, he still didn’t see Jiang Cheng. He finally began to panic. Grabbing a cobbler on the side, he asked, “Mister, there was a young master about the same age as me sitting here. Did you see where he went?” The cobbler licked the thick end of a thread, “The one that was with you?” Wei WuXian, “Yeah!”

The cobbler, “I was in the middle of doing something so I didn’t really see. But he kept on spacing out, staring at the people on the street. And then when I looked up at where he was again, he suddenly disappeared. Maybe he left.”

Wei WuXian murmured, “... He left... He left...”

He probably left for Lotus Pier to steal the bodies!

As though he had gone mad, Wei WuXian sprinted immediately toward the direction that they had come from.

[...]

He gave himself a harsh scolding in silence—he was stupid, useless, ridiculous, it was bizarre, unimaginable. Yet, he was alone, without a sword or any tools, and on the other side of the wall there were thousands of Wen Sect’s cultivators, perhaps Wen ZhuLie as well.

He wasn’t scared of death. He was only scared that after he died, he wouldn’t be able to save Jiang Cheng and betray the trust that Jiang FengMian and Madam Yu left him. In such circumstances, the only one he could place his hope on was a person of the Wen Sect whom he had met only three times in total!

[...]

Wei WuXian’s gaze turned from Wen Ning toward Jiang Cheng, whose body was covered in blood and eyes were tightly shut. His fingers couldn’t help but clenched into fists.

Chapter 59 Poisons—Part Four

Jiang Cheng’s expression was rather strange. It was calm, almost too calm. He stared at the ceiling, as though he wasn’t at all interested in the situation that he was in, as though he didn’t care about where he was either. Wei WuXian didn’t expect him to react in such a way. Sadness, happiness, anger, shock—he had none of these. His heart skipped a beat, “Jiang Cheng, can you see me? Can you hear me? Do you know who I am?” Jiang Cheng glanced at him. He didn’t say anything. Wei WuXian asked him a few more questions. Arm supporting himself, he finally sat upright. He looked down at the mark of the discipline whip on his chest before laughing bitterly. If the discipline whip struck, it’d be impossible to wipe away the mark of shame. Wei WuXian comforted him despite this, “Stop looking at it. There has to be a way to get it off.” Jiang Cheng slapped him. His strike was so weak, so powerless that Wei WuXian didn’t even flinch, “Hit me. As long as you’ll feel better.”

[...]

If Wei WuXian were the one injured or if somebody else had saved them, he’d immediately say farewell and leave at once, full of determination. However, right now, Jiang Cheng was the one who had been injured. Not only was he injured, he had lost his core as well. He wasn’t in his right mind. No matter what, Wei WuXian couldn’t find any determination.

Chapter 60 Poisons—Part five

Out of the blue, Jiang Cheng spoke up, “Not to do what?” Wei WuXian paused in surprise, turning to him along with Lan WangJi. Jiang Cheng covered his wound with one hand, his voice chilly, “Wei WuXian, you’re such a great, selfless person. You did the best things possible, and you swallowed all the suffering and didn’t let anyone know. What a touching story. I should kneel down and cry in gratitude, shouldn’t I?” Hearing the mocking tone that lacked any courtesy, Lan WangJi’s face grew cold. Jin Ling saw the displeased expression and immediately stood in front of Jiang Cheng, scared that Lan WangJi would kill him with one strike, “Uncle!” Wei WuXian’s expression worsened as well. He never expected Jiang Cheng to make up with him after he found out the truth, but he didn’t think his tone would be as unkind as ever, either. With a moment of silence, he replied, voice muffled, “I never asked you to thank me.”

[...]

In the beginning, it was precisely because he didn’t want to see such a Jiang Cheng that he decided not to tell him.

He remembered every single thing he promised Jiang FengMian and Madam Yu—to help and take care of Jiang Cheng. If someone as unhealthily competitive as him found out about this, he’d be dispirited his whole life, too tortured to face himself. There’d always be something he could never overcome, reminding him that he could only reach where he was because of another’s sacrifice. It wasn’t at all his cultivation and his achievement. No matter if he won or lost, he’d long since lost the right to compete.

Afterwards, it was because Jin ZiXuan and Jiang YanLi died for him that he had no face to let others know. To tell Jiang Cheng after what happened then would be like shirking responsibility, hurrying to demonstrate that he’d contributed as well. It’d be like telling Jiang Cheng, don’t hate me, look I’ve contributed to the YunmengJiang Sect too.

Chapter 102- Hatred - Part Five

At this point, somebody on the side suddenly called, “Wei WuXian!”

Wei WuXian answered immediately, “What?”

Only after he answered did he realize that the one who called him was Jiang Cheng. Wei WuXian felt somewhat surprised. Jiang Cheng didn’t respond directly. Instead, he took something out from his sleeve and tossed. Wei WuXian caught it by instinct and looked, only to find a black, gleaming flute along with a crimson tassel.

It was the ghoul flute, Chen Qing!

As he felt the flute that he was more than familiar with, Wei WuXian didn’t even have the spare time to feel surprised.

Chapter 108: Concealment - Part Two

After a pause, he asked again, “How have Sect Leader Jiang and Jin Ling been?”

Lan JingYi pouted, “They seem pretty fine. Sect Leader Jiang is the same as before, always lashing out at people with his whip. Young Mistress’s temper has been getting better. In the past he could talk back thrice to his uncle after he scolds him once. Now he can do ten times.”

[...]

Hearing Lan JingYi say so, Wei WuXian relaxed slightly. In truth, he knew that these weren’t what he really wanted to ask. But as it sounded like Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling had been doing quite well, there was nothing left to say.

Chapter 116: Extra—Banquet - Part Three

[kwop-kilawtley]

Bella’s depression months/suicidal tendencies/ hallucinations in New Moon are not “romantic,” sorry. It’s just horrible how traumatized she is. Imagine being a 17 y/o girl who never dated anyone and the first person you date is a mythical creature who essentially is the idea of perfection. It knocks down your self esteem even more, makes you feel embarrassed for not being enough and then after you almost died at the hands of others of his kind, he leaves. Leaves you for dead.

How is it romantic that she now sees no worth in her own humanity? That she deems life useless without him. Then Jacob comes along and makes her see life can be good again. She falls in love with Jacob naturally and effortlessly. If Edward and Bella were truly “fated” and “meant to be,” Bella wouldn’t be so in love with Jacob the way that she is. Jacob is the only person who truly understands her and he would do anything for her. He would protect her and keep her alive.

Bella choosing Edward is literally suicide and allows her to be stunted, to not fix her self esteem issues. Yet this is supposed to be romantic somehow?? The text literally leads you to believe that Bella will grow and get out of her depression with the help of Jacob. And he totally could have because she could’ve been open about the vampire secret since he knew about them too. It only makes sense in my mind she chose him. She actually has fun with him, he understands her personality better than Edward, understands her mind better than Edward. Their love is so intense that she even says she may have actually chosen Jacob if she hadn’t known what losing Edward felt like. She was so deeply traumatized by him leaving she couldn’t even bear the thought of having to heal. But she almost did. She could have.

The fact Bella cannot let Jacob go all throughout Eclipse even after Edward comes back is proof that she’s not fated to be with Edward. Literally no matter how many times I read these books I will never see it that way even though her narrative wants you to believe that in the end. Like sorry but having cutesy quotes and ogling over his physical perfection every second without there really being true reason behind it, just doesn’t hit for me. They were together for mere months and she’s already talking about “I want to be with you forever.” Like yeah that was me in high school too with the first person who ever gave me attention. I didn’t know any better tho. Now pair that with someone who literally hypnotizes humans lol.. yeah she didn’t stand a chance. Yet her lack of autonomy is romantic? Gross. She even says “it’s like Sam & Emily, I never had a choice.” How does anyone find this romantic LMAO.

If Bella had no feelings for Jacob and he had no good aspects of him and he wasn’t trying to keep Bella alive the whole goddamn time then no one would be for Jacob. But she literally is in love with him, it’s just not “magical” bullshit love. Which doesn’t even make sense for her btw. She doesn’t have any development whatsoever. Vampirism is just her bandaid and Jacob and the entire wolfpack are done dirty.

She tries to die and hear voices of her ex who abandoned her yet that’s romantic lmfao. New moon is legit based off of Romeo & Juliet, a tragedy where they both die. Bella & Edward simply shouldn’t have had a happy ending. Naturally it doesn’t make sense that they do, which is why breaking dawn is such a shit show. Because their relationship just doesn’t make sense and only harms them and everyone around them.

& before anyones like “it’s just a fantasy stop analyzing it wahh” no <3 these books shaped my way of viewing relationships as a teenager and it should be talked about how harmful some of the messages in the series are.

[paingoes]

Destroyer - Bingo

(Masterlist)

kind of a remix to an earlier section !

(Content: needles mention, dehumanization, objectification, conditioning, implied physical violence)

======================

The handmaids were probably the only ones totally happy with the new arrangement. For one, Paris was a lot cuter than his dad had been, much better for modeling. For another, he had given them total creative control over the wardrobe, a privilege that the Emperor would have never even considered. But above all, Paris gave them near infinite opportunities to experiment with this freedom. Every single appearance was turning into a production. 

“Feel this,” One of the younger ones, Sierra, smiled at Delta. She pushed the bundle of fabric into his hands, saying, “It’s vintage. Really vintage.”

Delta felt it. It was strong, starchy fabric. Dusty. 

“It’s from the Svetlanan feudal era. Before the Empire militarized and everyone started dressing like it was boarding school. Collector’s piece. I’ve been saving it in my closet for years,” She took it back, “I need to tailor it more, so we can’t use it today, but I have other pieces I made in the same style. Hold on.”

Delta nodded patiently. As she walked away, his attention drifted back to his own reflection in the vanity. His makeup was already done — and it was done up heavily. Sierra had a bit of an edgy streak, probably the reason Paris trusted her vision. Delta looked dangerous. There was a new sharpness to his features, not so gaunt as he was pointed. A permanent, severe expression was painted onto his face. He touched it lightly. He did not necessarily like the feeling of his painted skin, but found it kind of endearing the way the girls fawned over it. He didn’t want to ruin the experience for them by showing his discomfort. Besides, he was used to being prodded at. At least here they weren’t jamming needles into his arms.

=========

In the past, the late Emperor had severely limited Delta’s movement. On a standard exhibition, he was used to seeing the inside of cargo holds and bunkers. He was never out of arms length of his handlers. He’d only be taken out at the last possible second to deliver the killing blow, then immediately ushered back into hiding. The Emperor had been a very cautious and subtle man. His son was not. Paris would drag Delta straight into the war room on a leash. Everyone disliked this.

“Your Highness, please,” One of his advisors begged, the years of exasperation etched into her face, “No guns at the table.”

Paris ignored her. He collected his fair share of dirty looks from all of them, but it never seemed to dissuade him all that much. People were always more cautious with how they spoke to him when Delta was in the room. He would chain him to the chair, never out of his reach. 

Delta did not like the glares he got. The fear and disdain were normal; it’d be stranger if they were absent. What he hated was when they looked hungry. He moved a little closer to Paris. He was now glad for the chain attaching him to the prince. There was no easy way to remove him, should such a passion arise. 

He didn’t have permission to move or to speak, so all Delta really had to do to pass the time was listen. He kept his head down, knowing if he looked a little too attentive to what was going on around him, it would ruin the effect. But he could hear perfectly well and recognized all their voices. He was getting pretty good at predicting what they’d say, too. Just for fun, he made up a bingo card for the meetings:

A rear officer threatens to quit

Harlin complains about the stipends

Someone quotes Space Tzu

The hologram malfunctions

Tece calls for Canrad to be destroyed

His memory was good enough that he could fill it out in his head. Most days, he got bingo within the first hour.

=========

Paris slammed the bedroom door shut. Delta jumped. It had not been a good day.

“Ground invasion, yeah fucking right. Xyzyz doesn’t even have oil like that, they only want it cause it’s a heritage site. They’re about to go to war over nostalgia. Do you believe this shit?” Paris threw his jacket off, letting it crumple to the ground. Delta picked it back up.

“Xyzyz doesn’t have the climate to support a soldier population,” Delta said casually, then immediately regretted it. It had been bugging him the entire meeting, the lack of basic earth science. But Paris had a habit of thinking out loud when he was angry. Most of the time, he did not want an actual response. Delta flinched back, expecting to get slapped in the mouth.

“THANK YOU!” Paris threw his hands up in frustration. “Nobody ever wants to talk logistics!”

Delta blinked in surprise as Paris undid the loose chain around his neck. The hit didn’t come. 

“And did you see that dirty look Steff gave me when she brought up Bellarind? Like it was my fault it failed. I fucking told her, if you launch that strike, you’re on your own. I’m not backing you up. And she’s mad at me for making good on my word? I told her!” Paris flopped down on the bed. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking at Delta, “I’m not crazy, right?”

“No, I don’t think you’re crazy,” Delta admitted. At least, not for that reason.

Paris knew he was listening then. But he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he was glad he had someone to debrief with afterwards, having considered himself wholly without allies among the council. Delta noticed Paris was much more tame over the next few days if he was just given time to rant. He would rest his arms and head on the foot of Paris’s bed, listening thoughtfully. Paris would even let him speak sometimes, but Delta understood that for the most part the prince just wanted the company. It was obvious he didn’t have anyone else.

~~~

Tags: @catnykit @indigoviolet311 @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @defire @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump

[vee-beeee]

Book Jockey

HELLO

This is totally based off a quote from parks and rec

this is def a crack fic

Premise: Basically, your worst enemy works at the library and you need to check something out for a case.

Connor and Nines are VERY confused, but they've got the spirit

Warnings: curse words lol, being a little mischievous, paper book libraries exist and Connor and Nines cant pull everything from the internet sometimes because i say so, a lil half-assed plot in here

Connor and Nines x reader

╰┈➤---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Detective, why are you hitting your head on the steering wheel?"

You sighed and turned your face -that had previously been smushed on your vehicles steering wheel- to look vacantly at Connor. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, and he was leaning forward slightly to look you in the eyes. You groaned and sat up fully, pushing yourself further into the seat, and grabbing some strands of your hair to stare at them instead of the android.

"I just don't like this library Connor." you closed your eyes, dropping the strand of hair, and you could almost hear his confusion from next to you.

"I thought you enjoyed libraries detective" a firm voice from the back of your car made itself known and you opened your eyes to gaze out on the dreaded building.

"I usually do Nines, but someone who works here absolutely sucks." out of the corner of your eyes Connor nodded his head, and then he turned to ask you a question that you never thought you would here out of his mouth.

"Like Detective Reed levels?"

You chocked and whipped your head to look at the android in shock, while he gave you a small smile. You beamed back at him and rolled your eyes away from him "Think even worse". Connor's smile faded as he winced and turned to look at Nines, who gave him a half-hearted shrug, turning to stare at the back of your head. Finally you sighed and started unlocking the doors.

"In and out. No eye contact, no distractions" you breathed, and looked at the boys. Connor gave you a sympathetic look and nodded, while Nines gave you a steely gaze and said nothing. Connor turned to look out the front window of the car, and started giving your group a rundown of this little mission.

"We're just here for that disc, it contains information invaluable to the case" you inclined your head towards Connor, and noticed his LED silently flashed when he looked at his counterpart. They exchanged a brief glance, and then you were out of the car and on your way to the library.

You wonder what they said. Sometimes their telepathic communication was unfair.

(They were talking about being as quick as possible and helping you get through this, but Nines would kill Connor if they spoke like that out loud)

As you slowly reached the front door, you looked through the glass and sure enough

standing right in the middle of everything at the check-out counter

was your worst nightmare.

And so, like a normal person that wasn't afraid, you spun a full 180 degrees and started to walk away.

"Actually I changed my mind. We can find the info somewhere else."

Connor immediately called after you and grabbed your elbow, effectively stopping you from going anywhere with his impressive strength. He turned you around, and forced you to look in his eyes.

"It'll be okay detective. We'll both be in there with you-" he paused and looked at Nines, whose LED flashed yellow and red as the next words came out of Connor's mouth "-we could always just us do it ourselves, but it would look a little weird. 2 androids looking at books" he chuckled and scanned at your face, trying to read your body language.

As soon as Connor said himself and Nines could go in there alone, you felt a pang of guilt. Placing both hands on your chest, you deeply inhaled before exhaling. Connor moved the hand that was on your elbow to rub gently on your back, and you looked at both the boys telling yourself more than them,

"I can do this."

Then you were bursting through the doors!

Annnnddd then immediately ducking down a random isle to avoid being seen.

Connor sought out and greeted the nearest employee, (who seemed very annoyed at the sight of him) and started to try and chat up the elderly women on where their video section was. You leaned against a bookshelf and sighed once more, closing your eyes. You listened to the RK800 talk to the woman, trying to pay attention to where you would be heading.

And then a hand was reaching out to yours.

And holding your pinky finger.

Eyes fluttering open, you slightly turned to your right and saw Nines waiting with you, eyes staring at a random book on the shelf as he silently caressed your fingers with his own.

You gently took one of his digits in your hand and squeezed a couple times, copying him by gazing at the rows of books in front of you.

He squeezed back.

Eventually Connor finished his conversation and made his way to your little pair, and informed you both were the old archives were. You smiled at him, thankful that he had some people skills out of the lot of you, and you all swiftly set off into the basement of the library, making sure to not be seen by that dreaded employee.

You all took the elevator down to the basement, and started your search for this precious disc. As you were looking through one old box, slightly coughing from the dust and grime that had built up, you felt a presence next to you.

"Is there a particular reason why you despise that women?" Connor came up next to your form and started digging into the bin adjacent to yours. You shook your head as you started to explain to him.

"She actually used to work at the DPD. She was always annoyed at me, and even complained to Fowler about me multiple times. She just had it out for me." you brought a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your head and took a glance at Connor, whose LED was fully yellow. He tilted his head as he looked, a gesture that was meant to convey he was listening, and you continued with your story.

"Then one day she filed a serious accusation against me, saying I messed up some important paper work. It wasn't true, but I still got in trouble at first. They eventually found out it was her that tampered with it and she was fired, but she sure went out with a bang. Then I heard she started working at this library and I've avoided it every since." You felt Connor staring at you, but you couldn't meet his gaze. The memory of her screeching at you brought you down, and you shut the lid of the box you were looking though with a small slam.

And then a body was wrapped around you.

"I'm sorry Y/N. I wish I could fix it, but the best we can do is get out of here quickly."

You nodded at his words, sighing as you wrapped your hands around his own and basked in the comfort he provided you.

After almost 5 more minutes of digging through dusty CDS and old news papers, Nines had been the one that found the disc you were looking for. Crowding around him, you and Connor shared a glance over Nines back as the android read out the title of the disc and its contents.

"That's the disc alright" you muttered, looking at both boys. Connor straightened his tie and looked away from you, and guiltily gazed around the room.

"We need to check it out."

Ohhh, that's what you forgot about.

You looked at both RK units, who shared a sympathetic look, and you exhaled, grabbing the disc from Nines and slowly trudging towards the elevator to the top floor.

It needed to be you to do it.

It was a longggg elevator ride.

You had told both boys that you understood and it was okay, but Connor still apologized. His explanation was that only you could use your library card (because you were a human, they weren't used to androids checking books out yet) and they wished they could do it for you. You had sighed at the explanation, remembering that androids still had a few restrictions.

Which was garbage.

When the doors were open, you were meet by the sight of that lady sitting at the center desk, blissfully unaware of who was marching towards her. Reaching the desk, you took a breathe.

"I need to check this out please" your voice wavered, but you held firm as you slid the disc over to the person at the desk.

As she tilted her head up, surprise bloomed over her features, and she scanned you head to toe before smiling smugly in recognition.

"Oh y/n, so good to see you. Are they finally teaching your department how to read?"

The world went quiet and you heard Nines slight scoff, but was hidden under a cough, and Connor was instantly at your back. If that lady saw the reaction, she didn't say anything and just continued staring into your soul with a huge smirk.

She continued her work and hummed as she checked out the disc, turning to her computer before clicking around a minute.

And then she grinned, and evil expression. And you knew she was planning something.

"I'm sorry, but this says you have a couple overdue books." immediately your eyebrows raised, and your face morphed into one of skepticism.

You always returned your books on time.

Your boys knew this, and took a chance to glance at each other with confusion.

"One of those books seems to be titled MYSTERYS OF THE MALE BODY" her voice slowly raising as she read out the name of this secret mystical book that was overdue. Your mouth fell open, basically hitting the ground, and you felt Connor grab your hand. Nines was at your side, and sharply glaring at the lady.

You made a decision in that moment.

"RUN GUYS RUN GRAB THE DISC GO GO" you yelled, knocking over a couple books that sat on the counter as the librarian protested, quickly standing up in her chair in shock. Nines instantly understood and grabbed the disc and also took ahold of a confused Connor, you three making a made dash to the door. Connor started yelling "we'll return it" as you and Nines grabbed your accomplice.

And then you saw a cart, filled with books waiting to be put on the shelves.

Looking very tippable

You ran over to it and shoved it over as hard as you could, screaming

"PUNK ASS BOOK JOCKEYS"

Your group burst through the doors, hearing the beeping of the security system and ran all across the parking lot to the way to the car, where Connor slid into the drivers seat and instantly took off.

You were breathless and beaming, chuckling to yourself.

Connor and Nines joined in on your giggling, everyone a little in shock at the little stunt you pulled.

You felt a tap on your shoulder, and Nines was giving you a small smile

"Punk ass book jockeys?"

And then Connor was laughing again, combing a hand through his hair.

So the trip went pretty well. You got the disc after all.

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

HII HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING

This is literally based off a qoute LOL

sorry for spelling errors and plot holesss as always

also im not sure how i feel about the whole plot with the angry librarian but oh well

[iremiari]

Daydreams || A Dead Boy Detectives Ficlet

A journalist interviews Charles and Edwin, asking how they would feel if Season 2 got cancelled. aka: the time i got too carried away making incorrect quotes (hence this fic being mostly dialogue), so have this really short ficlet of them!! Also yes, they technically broke the 4th wall during this entire thing.

Edwin and Charles are sitting on chairs, sitting in front of a white backdrop - much like those you see in interviews. Because they were in an interview, and by the looks of it, it was almost about to end.

One of the news reporters have given Charles and Edwin a question: How would they feel if they didn't get renewed for Season 2?

"Nonsense." Edwin reacts almost immediately. "It is imperative that we get renewed for Season 2. I must," he composes himself, "I must hear Charles tell me he loves me."

Charles, next to him, raises an eyebrow, and looks at Edwin with a smile, "Oh, and you're certain about that, yeah?"

"Well, no. But one could infer that-"

A little peck had landed on Edwin's lips.

Charles has just kissed Edwin, and the two boys look at each other. Charles is the first to speak.

"'Cause you're right. I do. I am in love with you."

Edwin just looks at him, stunned. Charles, charming as he is, gives him a topic to go off of.

"But keep going. I love hearing you talk about whatever's on your mind."

Edwin tries to speak, but he cannot seem to focus with what just happened and how casual Charles is treating this situation. All that comes out of his mouth is a series of mumbles and stutters, "I- there is-- I am… speechless."

"Aw," Charles smiles, "luckily, that isn't a problem."

He kisses him again, way more intense than the small peck he gave him earlier. They wrap their hands around each other's head, and continue. For Charles, it felt like a dream come true. He had been waiting to say that for a long time and--

"Right, Charles?" a voice says, interrupting whatever Charles was imagining.

"Huh, yeah, what?"

Turned out it was a dream. A daydream, anyway.

"Clearly, you got distracted again." Edwin gave a sigh - not one of disappointment, though. Maybe Charles was just imagining it, but it sounded like... a sigh of adoration.

"Anyway, I was telling these journalists just now that if our show does not get renewed for another season, then it would be highly devastating - for both us, the agency and the viewers at home."

"Oh," Charles collects himself, "Oh yeah, now you got me. I totally agree."

He looks at the camera. "I think a lot of people are... excited to see where our story leads, especially like- especially considering all the different narratives in store for us."

He ends with a chuckle, and turns to Edwin, smiling. "Also, sorry for zoning out there, mate. Won't happen again. Promise."

"We shall see about that." Edwin said to him with a coy smile, hiding his delight, before turning his attention to the journalists in front of them.

"Would that be all for you lovely people today? Charles and I do still have a lot of work to get done."

"Certainly, Mr. Payne and Mr. Rowland. Thank you for your time."

The news reporter looks through their notes as Charles and Edwin walk out of the set, looking very satisfied with the outcome of the interview.

[ccawz]

skz as keshi songs

a/n: stray kids vs keshi for my top artist on spotify. but i can’t listen to bandaids without thinking about chan. these are loosely based off the songs, surface-level lyrics.

warnings: word counts differ and are not consistent (85-145) half angst half fluff, realizing you’re (not you) falling out of love (ouch), Chan is not present (alluding to disassociation, not explicitly) alcohol. Before each blurb the category and word count are stated.

ot8! x gn!reader. 1.1k words total. don’t quote me on that

Jisung— hell/heaven (opening line), 85 wc | fluff

“Tell me more.” He adores you. Han Jisung could listen to you talk all day and night about anything and everything and remember every single word you say. “You’re cute when you ramble.”

A break in your sentence makes him laugh, hand falling from holding his head to holding your hand lightly. They’re clammy, but Jisung doesn’t mind.

A timid smile, Jisung melts, and another sparkle gets added to your eyes as you continue, gaze set on his fingers laced with yours across the table.

Seungmin— 2 soon, 141 wc | angst

“I miss you.” The voicemail sounds choppy, and you can hear the bustling sound of a crowd in the background and the loud cheers celebrating their milestone. “These parties aren’t the same without you. I don’t want to be here without you. Where are you?”

Seungmin sounds desperate near the end. You’ve come to the conclusion that he’s drunk, from the way his words slur to the way you know he would never say this with a sober mind.

“What did I do?” He asked. You can hear the tears in his voice. “How could I be stupid enough to lose you?”

The voicemail ends with that, and it has you wondering if the other seven are the same. Seungmin pleading, asking questions only he could answer, and him being drunk.

Your thumb hovers over his contact, and you call him.

Jeongin— It’s you, 104 wc | fluff

The first night you stayed over, Jeongin felt his heart stop when he saw the way his covers were swallowing you whole.

Loving was easy to do when it came to you, he guessed.

His smile grows when he sees you exit his bedroom wrapped up in one of his blankets, loving how cozy you look. “Hi.” The smile is evident in his voice, someone with their back turned would have noticed.

Chan, that someone, turns out of curiosity, biting back a grin when he sees Jeongin make his way toward you with stars in his eyes. He still gets excited to see you.

Chan— bandaids, 132 wc | hurt/comfort, read w caution

Chan couldn’t remember the first time it happened, him sleeping in your room every night. Was it when he was stressed about deadlines? …No, he’d stayed at the studio all day and night. Was it when you invited him over for dinner, and it was too late for him to go home?

Well, anyway.

“You should’ve told me.” Your voice was faint, he would’ve mistaken it for someone walking outside. Chan can’t hear you, feel you, or even see you. His mind is somewhere else, somewhere far, and his world is collapsing in front of him.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him, he can feel it now, the light stroking of your hand down his back. The ghost-like kisses to spot between his shoulder blades. “You don’t have to cry alone. I’m here.”

Minho— us, 96 wc | angst

Minho can feel things changing in front of him, and he can’t do anything about it. The touches don’t linger, the gaze feels colder than before, and the kisses seem half-hearted and filled with nothing but bitterness.

He admits it, that he hasn’t been as warm to you lately, but he never loved you any less. He watches you cook breakfast for the two of you with confused eyes. He sees you sneakily pass Dori a pancake crumb and press your finger against your lips to keep a secret.

But he doesn’t feel warmth like before.

Felix— summer, 95 wc | fluff

“Summer’s only three months,” Felix says, breath fanning against your lips. “Don't fall in love, yeah?”

The way you look at him makes his head spin. The same could be said about him, how his eyelashes hit his cheeks when he blinks slowly. Your hand reaches to his face, thumbing over the freckles littering his cheeks. You can feel them warm under your touch.

“I think I can manage.” You whisper back. Inching slowly towards him.

Felix stops just before you could kiss him, smiling at the way you frown. “I was talking to myself.”

Hyunjin— beside you, 116 wc | fluff (?)

Hyunjin glares darts into the person whose arm was around you from across the room. A piercing gaze that has bystanders inching away from the scene, clearing a path when he makes his way toward you.

He leans close, whispering right into your ear. “You’re gonna settle for him?” He muses, “When you have me?” He grins when you turn your attention towards him instead and smiles politely at the person you were with before dragging you away.

“You’re so jealous. It's genuinely annoying.”

He hums, wrapping an arm around you. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart,” he pressed a kiss to your temple, drinking in the flustered expression that came from it. “It’s just you and I.”

Changbin— i swear i’ll never leave again, 128 wc | hurt/comfort

He regrets not being grateful for the messages, your daily reminders for him to take care of himself just as much as he did his members. The pack of sticky notes he never remembers packing were filled with sweet words from you.

He goes through them now, even when you're on the other side of the door, waiting for him to finish packing his things. He doesn’t want to leave.

The first thing you see when he opens it are the tears that are building in his eyes and the quiver of his lips when you move to hold him.

So this was love. The aching, the yearning, and the heartbreak. Changbin wanted all of it. He wanted all of you. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

ot8, your choice— drunk, 145 wc | angst

It happens again. Another after-party, another night of watching your friends get drunk, another night of seeing him being happy without you.

You see him across the room, laughing it up with one of his friends, nursing a cup of whatever miscellaneous alcohol they were serving. Maybe it was an espresso martini, he likes his coffee just as much as he did his booze. He thanked the person who created it.

Later that night, you find yourself thinking about him while staring at the ceiling. Had he found someone new? Someone who could give him the same adrenaline you had when you first got together. Was he thinking of you just as much as you were thinking of him?

You turn on your side, cringing at the wet feeling of tears pressing against your cheek. Did he find it hard to move on like you?

a/n: i was actually going to make Felix’s sad instead of Lino but, maybe next time.

[tillywunderwing]

🎙️, 🤝, and 🧨 for the ask game.,,,.,

OKAY. LISTEN. this ask has been sitting in my drafts forfuckingever because I couldn't attach the audio file for the first question on my phone, and I thought 'well okay I'll just answer it on my laptop later'

I proceeded to Forget. ANYWAY. Totally hinged rambling under the cut

🎙️ What’s your favourite (used or unused) voice line in the games?

okay this is SUCH a specific pick but I’m personally really fond of THIS unused line for when you equip the winter gloves in I3YTD:

"I can't say I approve of you wearing any kind of Zoraxis branding on your clothing, but I do approve of you not catching a cold. Care comes first!"

it's just... i just... RRRGH he's so SILLY and it's like, such a simple little quote that kind of perfectly captures everything I love about his character. Like, you know, he's opinionated, but he's also kind of goofy and so softhearted, he cares so much about the player and their health... and for similar reasons I'm also going to shout out this line (that DOES get used in I3YTD) from Cold Shoulder (this one even comes with gameplay!):

“I don’t think that gondola is blizzard-certified, Agent... Those winds are too much! AGENT—!”

Just, the panic in his voice. The terror. So many of the deaths in these games are kind of, blink-and-it's-over, but this one... he can see it's about to happen. He has enough time to realise he's about to watch his favourite agent die. And you can hear that in his voice I think... the way it builds in pitch, and even the progressing certainty in what he's saying, 'I don't think' to 'those winds are'. We are listening to this man realise he's about to lose someone he cares about a lot. And that someone is us. Don't look at me DUDE DON'T LOOK AT MEEEE

(Can you tell the Handler is my favourite character? Because the Handler is my favourite character.) ahem I'm normal I promise I am

Now this probably could bring us to our next point... "🤝"... however I do actually have ANOTHER neglected ask in my inbox that asks the same question. And I think I am going to save the inevitable essay for its own post there LMAOOO so I will answer this question but. elsewhere. Soon

so instead all this talk of my favourite character will bring us to our other next point:

🧨If you put your two favourite characters in a room for five minutes how many people would die?

Hm. Okay. This is. A difficult question because it means I definitively have to pick a second favourite character. Reggie is a given--

I'm gonna let Ollie be the other one, because I like his voice, and I like his attitude, and I like him. Him and Reggie would get along famously if you put them in a room together, I don't think there's any question about that. Perhaps too famously, though. I think they would get too caught up in gossip over tea, and lose track of all time and obligations. So, to answer 'how many people would die', first I would need to know how many people are in the building(s) Phoenix sets fire to while nobody responsible is looking.

[emotionallychargedtowel]

the persistent and the cute

Over the last few days, there’s been a really interesting discussion in the comments of my reblog of the gifset @tinngun​ put together of the Utsukushii Kare season 2 finale kiss. I’m transplanting it here because 1) it seems like @tinngun​ could use a break from all those notifications and so forth 2) the conversation was totally getting buried and I think it might be interesting to folks who probably wouldn’t see it without it being brought back out into a main post. So, first, here’s a quick recap of what I posted when I reblogged the gifset post in the first place. Well, the part that’s pertinent to this conversation, at least. I commented on the tropeyness of the scene, including allusions to Hira and Kiyoi’s sexual relationship, which (from what I hear) gets quite a bit of time in the novels but by virtue of TV as a medium, is mostly not portrayed in the series. In other words, since this part of the relationship isn’t shown directly the vast majority of the time, it has to be sketched out through these allusions, including what I’d consider coded language. 

With regard to the coded terms, I brought up something @bookittyboop​ had mentioned to me previously, that “persistent” and “cute” have specific meanings in BL/yaoi/other related genres. Basically, someone labeled as “persistent” is more active/forceful sexually and someone labeled as “cute” is yielding/more passive, with these roles being mutually reinforcing (i.e. the more yielding the “cute” person is, the more forceful the “persistent” person becomes).

Then I talked about the way Hagiwara Riku’s voice shifts in the line, “Sorry, Kiyoi. I can’t wait any longer tonight.” I had checked out some clips of other roles of his and noticed that among other things, he really seems to use his voice to differentiate between characters. This helped me to notice how distinct his “can’t wait” voice was, and I thought this was probably a voice belonging to the “persistent” part of the character. And I was less sure about this, but I thought Yagi Yusei was playing into this as well by reacting to the voice by kind of melting/going all floppy in response to it (he’d been fairly swoony before that, but it definitely seemed to be going up a notch there).

Then @xnoel, perennial fountain of information, pointed me to this quote from an interview translation (highlighting added):

So yeah, this seems like confirmation! I mean, what else would Yagi be referring to when he talks about “Hira’s ‘dark’ side” than this authoritative husky whisper thing?

Then I got some really great comments which I’m going to share here with permission, in part because I asked if anyone could point me toward more information on the “persistent”/”cute” thing.

The ever-helpful @nieves-de-sugui​ said:

a little bit of translation notes for your analysis! Hira is saying, literally, "I can't hold back (anymore)" and it's a very tropey sentence to say in BL (and shoujo) right before getting it on.  It's also the main indicator of taking over/taking charge of the sexual encounter. There's a lot of one taking over and the other giving in. (I think there's a lot here about how Japanese people relate to sex and how it should be done).

(I said I’d run into this trope in Kdramas before as well.)

And then the kind and knowledgeable @bookittyboop​ pretty much took me to school on the whole persistent/cute dichotomy! They left comments in two clusters at different times so I’m putting a little dinkus (the line of asterisks or symbol that marks a transition between sections) in there to show where that was. Oh, and I took out some greetings/closings and stuff like that for flow purposes. Here we go:

The best source I can think of (because otherwise this is the kind of thing your get through osmosis once you've watched enough Japanese media) is @absolutebl's post [link added by me] on the whipping boy trope, though there is more to it. I would classify Hira as a whipping boy/attack dog/service top and Kiyoi as more of a kuudere than a tsundere as well as a spoiled prince/pampered princess.

Their characterization and dynamic (and derivatives) is a staple not only in bl but in Japanese media. You've got a male character (Hira) who is the unassuming or even the loser archetype but unearths or shows a "manly" and protective side in benefit of his loved ones (many times after his "cowardice" or "uselessness" has let them be hurt) and slowly makes something of himself.

Then you got a (normally female) character who is  a combination of cold and aloof (kuudere) or prickly and explosive (tsundere) but actually wants to be cherished and uses the gruff exterior as a way to protect herself from heartache/rejection.

The first archetype normally admires the second and wants to be at their service while the second sees the potential in them and the adoration makes them feel safe. In normal circumstances the first character has a submissive personality and the other a domineering one. The second character is also going to find emotional vulnerability extremely difficult to express. But in certain circumstances, there is a "mom friend hack" button.

* * *

When character 2 opens up/shows vulnerability, character 1 identifies a need in the other to be cared for and takes confidence from being  chosen to provide that. There's also gap moe (duality cuteness) and horny "I'm gonna worship you so good you will forget everything else,” "gotta get top marks at satisfying you," and "you're so cute I wanna eat you up" buttons.

The second character in turn feels attracted, safe and tethered by that show of confidence and let's themselves (their barriers) go more and more . Those energies feed into each other and that's how you get to our kiss scene. Sometimes(Kiyoi's case) they add coyness and shyness ("no, that's too much you beast") because God forbid the tsundere/kuudere lacks plausible deniability when they go back to their senses. (there's a "baby it's cold outside"element too)

This is where @absolutebl�� chimed in to say they thought @bookittyboop​ was doing “a GREAT job” with this explanation.

And I agreed, and thanked them for the time and effort involved in such a useful explanation, but asked about the “mom friend hack” because it was new to me. Here was their explanation:

The mom friend is the responsible, caring one, prepared for any eventuality. If you're a generally anxious person but also the mom friend, you've got a hack where you handily navigate  situations which would normally be embarrassing or anxiety-inducing if it's for your loved one's benefit.

For example:

-Buying condoms, pregnancy tests, emetics or other "embarrassing" stuff

-telling waitstaff they got an order wrong and to please change it

-asking a teacher to explain something again or revise an exam score

-giving a jerk a piece of your mind

Basically, you may not be able to stand for yourself or even make perfectly mundane, normal requests for your own sake, but the power of love lets you rationalize things, be brave, and do it for others.

I just realized I probably didn't clarify enough. Hira's thing is not exactly a "mom friend hack" but it's similar to it in the sense that "being needed" lets him overcome a mental block.

And they added, re: my theory about Kiyoi’s response to the Persistent Voice:

As for the kiss voice and Kiyoi's reaction, I too am convinced that was all on purpose. Bl drinks from yaoi manga, which has a treasure trove of visual cues and tropes. If there was a manga version, we'd probably have seen Hira suddenly get wolfy ears and shiny eyes + Kiyoi blushing like a maiden (maybe a fade to black with the dirtiest onomatopoeia known to man) to signal someone's getting railed within an inch of his life 😂. This is the real life equivalent.

So, yeah. Lots to think about here. I’m glad to know I seemed to be on the right track. It’s funny how there is so much material out there about some tropes and genre terms (googling seme and uke will get you more results than you know what to do with) while other tropes are harder to find anything about. (If only because of the vagaries of search terms, which might be a factor here.) If nothing else I’ll have this post to refer back to and I hope others will do the same if they find it at all useful.

Thanks again to @bookittyboop​ and @nieves-de-sugui​ for their thoughts! And to the illustrious @absolutebl​ for chiming in with praise (for @bookittyboop​) and confirmation.

postscript:

There are a couple of things I keep noticing about that kiss scene since this discussion that I wanted to point out. I guess the fact that, due to both of my reblogs, I had a gifset of the scene at the top of my profile for three days probably has something to do with it.

First, I hadn’t noticed how much Kiyoi really is slipping into a “cute” persona even before the Persistent Voice is used--just in response to Hira’s first kiss. His eyes get very soft and he does that affectionate head-bonk but the pièce de résistance, to my mind, is the rather childlike way he sticks out the end of his tongue. So, yeah. The first stage of cuteness comes before the Voice is even used.

Second, I hadn’t even reckoned with just how floppy Kiyoi gets after the Voice. He’s swaying around so much that Hira keeps having to grab him so he doesn’t just keel over. He’s gone almost boneless.

I guess it’s just really fascinating to me how this set of tropes can be so pervasive in one culture (or at least noteworthy chunks of it) and yet almost entirely novel to me. I mean, I was aware cultural differences existed, of course, but sometimes getting hit by the reality of them is still startling.

[glystenangel]

hii can i request an eren x reader oneshot of "unrequited" requited love trope pls🥹? just both of them heavily pining e.o but not making any move on it. fluff & slight angst?

have a good day & welcome back xxx

"Unrequited"

Eren x GN!Reader (Modern AU)

tags/warnings: fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers but before the lovers part LOL, pining, quote unquote unrequited love that's actually v requited, T EN SI ON, heavy pining, coffee date, wild af assumptions and a strong case of the misunderstands, & excessive use of italics bc i'm only human

~1.7k words

thanks for requesting, i hope you like<3

_________________

The thing is, Eren likes you.

A lot.

A lot, a lot, a lot, a lot.

But, it’s one-sided.

Whenever you two hang out and in spite of your insistence that you were having a good time, you occasionally get this pained look on your face as if you would rather avoid being seen with him. Let alone just be with him.

It’s not only that, but any time he tried to make any semblance of a move on you, you would give him this pleading look. Shiny eyes and your throat all tense with the breath he could tell you were holding.

Like you were begging him not to tell you.

Because, Eren supposed, you both knew the answer.

He chokes down that heartbreaking assumption every time, bowing his head and changing the subject because the absolute last thing he wants to do is fuck up your already precarious friendship with each other. Sure, you’re perfectly lovely to him half of the time. Affectionate, even. Any other half of the time, you seem…uncomfortable. Unreadable. It reminds him of days that are cold and foggy. He can squint at the shapes outside of his windows, tinted gray from the weather, and guess each vague form to be houses or people against the dim horizon. Though there was no guarantee that even one of those blurry predictions would ever be accurate. He agonized regularly about the fact that the cause of your discomfort is most likely him. Maybe he got a little too close to you sometimes. A bit too flirty.

To be honest, Eren knows that the only way to preserve your friendship is to remind himself constantly that you don’t like him back. That the fog doesn’t have anything in it, just illusions of how he wishes you could be together.

Today, he’s indulging himself freely in the delusion that you’re both on a date.

You had agreed to meet him for coffee. Innocent enough, but when he sees you he can’t help but become overwhelmed by the mere sight of you.

He almost feels guilty, because this is just a totally selfish effort to gaze at the undeniable light that floods into your eyes when he asks about something you like, spot the corner of your mouth lifting before he makes you laugh for the umpteenth time, and to hear the soothe of your voice saying mhm as you listen to him tell a story. You’re beautiful to him, in everything you do.

You smile back once your searching eyes land on his, shimmering emerald and thickly veiled reverence.

Right then and there, Eren decides he doesn't give a shit that he’s being selfish.

That excited, happy expression on your face is more than enough for him.

_________________

You like Eren.

It’s one the easiest things you’ve ever admitted to yourself.

You like him a lot, in fact.

So much so, that you have been secretly cultivating a deep fear that you will ruin your friendship with him. To accommodate that fear and keep your daydreams in line, you do your best to keep hanging out with him and acting like you enjoy just being friends. Even if it means swallowing your feelings at every brush of his hand on your arm or not allowing yourself to look too long at the handsome planes of his finely structured face. It doesn’t help that he’ll suddenly lay the charm on you at random times, trapping you in his seagreen eyes and making you freeze at the most undoubtedly meaningless, offhand compliments that he slips into conversations.

It really didn’t help that he was so nice to you either. Any problem you had, he was there, helping you calm down and talk through the emotions that kept you from feeling your best. Any errand you needed done, any door that needed opening, any walk you wanted company on, Eren was there and offering whatever he could to make your life easier. But that was just Eren, he did that for all of his friends. You don’t think you had ever seen him allow Armin to make any bookshelves by himself or miss any special event that involved his sister Mikasa. With you, it was definitely no different.

Despite your best efforts, he was so attentive that he seemed to notice you trying to keep him at arm’s length, and he often asked if he was making you uncomfortable.

Yes, You always thought to yourself, Yes, you are. I’m in love with you and it’s driving me crazy.

And then you would provide him with a wordless shake of your head.

Truthfully, the careful check-ins he did with you only made you like him even more. It consistently showed you that he respected you, and left your heart beating fast. Caring for others always seemed to be hardwired into Eren’s nature, and you adore that about him.

The reason you had agreed to meet with him for coffee today was purely self-serving. You had seen him a few days ago, but you missed him so much that you had cleared your entire schedule for the day to have coffee with him for as long as possible.

The cafe is busy and the scent of grinded coffee beans is heavy in the air, but you pay no mind to any of it as soon as you catch sight of Eren and begin walking towards him.

You wonder if he missed you too, or if he had invited you just because you said you were available. What if you weren’t even the first person he had thought of? The thoughts make you briefly frown, your feet stopping right before the table.

Eren quirks up a brow in concern, and you note the crinkle in the olive toned skin set in the middle of his dark eyebrows.

“Everything okay?”

The prompt instantly makes you ashamed, how could you have thought of him so poorly? Of course he missed you and thought of you first, it just probably wasn’t in the way you wanted him to think of you. You two are good friends after all. 

Having someone like him in your life is plenty of happiness for you, even without your feelings being reciprocated.

A smile finds its way back to your face and you slide into the seat across from him, “Everything’s great.”

_________________

When you both have your fill of coffee and pastries crusted in sugar crystals, Eren offers to drive you home.

As he steals glances at you from behind the wheel, and you do the same from shotgun, a comfortable silence descends between the broad curve of his shoulder and the elbow you have casually laid across the glovebox.

“I’m glad we’re friends.” He suddenly says, the radiant red of the traffic light lining his face with maroon shadows.

“Me too.” You beam at the sentiment, “But, what makes you say that?”

The light turns green, and you can’t tell if you hear him or the tires sighing as the car regains motion.

“I just…love being around you.” He begins, more gently than you expected, “Even though we’ve been friends for so long, I’m still learning things about you that surprise me.”

You don’t respond, too stunned to, and Eren tilts his head to peer at you over the curve of his cheek.

“In a good way.” He adds quickly, “I admire how you open up and the way we can have fun doing nothing together. Getting coffee’s not as entertaining with other people.”

“Thank you, Eren. I have fun with you too. You’re a very passionate person and it motivates me to live life as freely as you do.”

An embarrassed chuckle escapes him, and he shrugs while keeping his hands on the wheel, “I try.”

The proximity of your elbow to his side feels too narrow to be friendly, but you chance inching a bit closer anyway, “You do.”

Another red light has him slowly braking to a pause, and he turns his chin to face you.

All you can hear is the soft rumble of the engine as Eren stares at you.

His eyes were his most complimented feature, but you don’t think anyone searched as hard for his thoughts in them as you did.

Stray umber strands of hair fall next to his eyes, and the angled grit of his jaw intensifies with every passing second. You wish he would do something, anything besides letting your mind wander and your stomach flutter. 

The movement of his cupid’s bow as he finally talks forces your attention back onto Eren, “I wish you knew..how hard I really do try.”

You puzzle over his words for a moment. The rough echo of them is only interrupted by the next breath he takes, which is deep and expands the muscles of his chest until fluorescent light pools across the material of his shirt. 

“Eren, the light.” You whisper, your voice sounding foreign even to you as you register the hushed words.

Eren blinks, and then you both startle at the car behind you honking their horn.

“Fuck, sorry.” He mumbles, averting his eyes and pressing forward.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, but you’re too busy calming the race of your thoughts and heart to notice if it’s awkward or not.

Once you recognize the road in front of your home, Eren drops you off and walks you to your door, where you wrap him in a hug that he returns just as tightly.

You set your mouth by his ear, “I know you’re trying.”

Although you remain unsure of what exactly he is trying to do, you know that if anyone is trying at all, it’s Eren. 

At that, he relaxes completely in your arms, “I hope so.”

Darkness fades your vision as you close your eyes for as briefly as you can convince yourself to, appreciating his warmth and preparing yourself to be released from his embrace. 

After a few more moments, you let go of Eren and offer him a shy wave.

“We’ll see each other again soon.” 

Eren’s hands find their way into his pockets, and the boyish grin that’s driven you mad since you met him crosses his features, “See you soon, beautiful.”

_________________

Maybe liking each other was a lot for the both of you, but neither you or Eren had any plans of stopping.

_________________

End Notes:

thanks for requesting this!! it really inspired me and i wrote this faster than i normally write🥰 might be a bittt more emo than you wanted, but i couldn't help myself😭😭 appreciate you and hope you enjoyed <333

[moneymoneygreengreen]

Satosugu fanfiction #2

(WARNING: slight 18+)

this is a headcannon/au so don’t take it seriously.

Satoru, the fluffy white haired boy with sunglasses on his face approached his two friends, Suguru and Shoko. They were both chatting with one another while leaning against a brick wall. When Satoru finally reached the two, he rose a hand up from his pocket with a short, “hey.”

Suguru responded with a “what’s up,” meanwhile Shoko gave a small nod of welcome with the cigarette hanging from the side of her lips.

“Hey, Suguru?” Satoru started while turning his head over to the gorgeous black haired boy. “Do you want to go to that one Italian joint that’s around ///////// after classes? It’s my treat,” Satoru added. “I heard they have pretty good stuff over there.”

Suguru’s lips expands into a warm, soft smile and he answers with a, “I would love to!”

Satoru smiled back but it was more of a grin. “Great! It’s a date then!” He turns around and darts off.

Shoko took a drag from her cigarette and frowned playfully. “Awe, I want to come too! I’d love to see what you and your”- she made air quotes -“boyfriend does when you both go out~” she let out a little chuckle as Suguru punched her arm softly.

///

At around 5:23 pm, Satoru walks with Suguru. The two of them were talking together all day long. Soon enough, Satoru lead Suguru to a shiny, white, brand new Koenigsegg. Satoru grabs the keys from his pockets and presses a button to unlock the car.

Suguru looked at Satoru with an eyebrow raised. “Wait a minute, you never told me you had a car? Let alone, I never knew you could drive!” Satoru chuckled and he says, “That’s because I just got the car today! And uh- I taught myself how to drive.” Suguru grew a bit uneasy but Satoru immediately added, “But don’t worry, I’ve got my drivers license.” Suguru breathed out slowly, glad to hear that.

Satoru Opened the passenger’s door of the Koenigsegg and murmured, “after you.” To Suguru before getting onto the other side of the sports car and getting in.

///

During the 30 minute drive, the two were listening to Taylor Swift and Katie Perry. And singing along to it…

“…California girls, we’re unforgettable! Daisy Dukes bikinis on top…”

They laughed and sung together all the way until they had both reached the Italian restaurant.

When they had reached the restaurant, Satoru had parked the car somewhere in the parking lot and hopped out of the car. He went to the passenger side door where Suguru was sitting and opened the door for him as if he was a princess. “Here you go, your highness~” He teased as Suguru climbed out of the car. the two walked into the restaurant together and took a seat at a booth. It was silent for a moment. Perhaps a little two silent that it was getting a bit awkward. So, Satoru decided to spark up a conversation.

“So, uh… Suguru. Where do you want to go see a movie film after this? I have a movie in mind!” He says. Moving a bowl of food to the side.

Suguru was leaning back against the seat he was in with both of his hands in his lap. “Mmm, sure! What kind of movie is it?” He asked

Satoru answered what movie it was going to be and told him what genre it was. Suguru seemed to be amazed at the movie idea and nodded. “That sounds great! Yeah I’m totally down!” Suguru said.

Satoru grinned. “Well then let’s get going,” he gets up from the booth chair.

Suguru looked from Satoru standing up and straightening out his clothes to the table. “Ummm, aren’t we going to pay?” He asked, his voice lowering a bit in concern. “why would we when we can just go? I just don’t feel like paying.” Satoru said before grabbing Suguru’s arm. “Let’s just go before we get caught!” And he raced off to the door with Suguru trailing behind.

///

While the movie was playing, the two friends were sitting in the car looking at the film like old school, typical teenage men. They were eating popcorn and drinking soda.

Satoru heard Suguru laugh at a scene. He turned his head to look at him. Satoru’s vibrant blue eyes shimmered as they explored Suguru’s beautiful laughing face. The way his eyes closed as tears welled up in them while chuckling softly. He couldn’t believe he just found out how beautiful and handsome his friend was. He gulped as a little bit of red shone on his cheek. Suguru’s slight grin closed back up into a smile as the scene on the movie turned to something else. He can feel Satoru looking at him and slowly glanced at him. He giggled softly before turning his full face to Satoru and kissed his lips before Satoru can turn away.

Satoru was a bit surprised but he closed all six of his eyes and lead into the kiss. His elbow coming off of the windowsill to grab onto Suguru’s back as he kisses him back.

after a nice long minute of them kissing, they slowly, and reluctantly pulled away from each other. A thin line of saliva hanging from each other’s tongues before finally breaking apart. Satoru licked his bottom lip before curling his lips into a smirk and chuckling softly. “W-wow, never expected that…” He mused.

Suguru looked up into Satoru’s glasses and smiled, “Honestly, I didn’t think I’d have the balls to do it…”

Satoru pushed his glasses up onto his head. “Well… can you do it again…?” He asked. And Suguru kisses Satoru again.

this time, their tongues started to explore each other’s mouths a bit and the two started rubbing each other’s backs a lot more. “got damn it, Suguru…” Satoru exclaimed as Suguru swiftly breaks the kiss and lowers his head down to give Satoru’s neck and collarbone small kisses. He takes time unbuttoning Satoru’s shirt and continues to tease Satoru’s neck with licks, kisses and bites. once he took the first three buttons of Satoru’s shirt out, he starts to kiss him on his chest and then down to his torso and well-marked abs. Then finally, once Suguru’s kisses reached Satoru’s pants, Suguru looked up at Satoru. Silently asking if it was okay…

Satoru’s face was extremely flushed and he had the back of his hand up to his mouth but he nodded a yes.

with that, Suguru smirked and his eyes darkened slightly as he opened his mouth to bite on the large hard bulge on Satoru’s pants. “I can’t wait to see what you taste like…”

///

In the morning, Satoru wakes up to find himself naked in the backseat with Suguru also naked but sleeping soundly on Satoru’s chest. He looked like a beautiful sleeping angel… Satoru smiled. He couldn’t believe he just had sex with his best friend—- and he was surprised Suguru accepted himself to be dominated so easily. (“Someday… I swear, I’ll marry you…”) Satoru swore to himself before staring up at the ceiling of the car. “I swear it…”