#YES TO ALL THE WORDS WRITTEN. I’m just so happy when i see a post that perfectly describes what i wanna say.
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accio-victuuri · 1 year ago
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I’m sharing this here cause i have seen it going around with people i follow on Wb and the things they say is so true! I’ve been seeing this movie blogger since Hidden Blade came out and they have always been fair with their evaluation of Yibo. The whole post is on their account 鬽影縫匠 and i’m only putting here ones that directly pertain to WYB. 🤍 I found myself nodding along while reading their thoughts and i know a lot of people who follow me on here will too.
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I almost laughed out loud at a blog post about the “Nomination List for Best Supporting Actor at the Golden Rooster Award". I chose two representative blog posts to share my views on "Best Supporting Actor" and several candidates:
[ Blog Post One ] Wang Yibo and Li Xuejian appeared in the nominations at the same time. This is the most magical joke in Chinese movies...
This is a highly offensive and targeted blog post, and the meaning between the lines is that "Wang Yibo is not worthy of being on the same list as Li Xuejian" , as for why, I didn’t say it, anyway, it’s just not worthy... Looking at the bright side, this blogger may feel that Wang Yibo is young and has a short acting career, and it’s not enough to compete with a drama actor like Li Xuejian, but he ignored an important question: This is not a PK between Wang Yibo and Mr. Li Xuejian, but Mr. Ye in "Hidden Blade" and Ji Chang in "Fengshen Part 1" competing on the same stage. The two characters, Mr. Ye and Ji Chang, play an important role in their respective works. They have their own lives and personalities. Who can portray the character more closely and whose performance is more convincing? Who plays a more critical role, and whose role is more important. Putting them on the same candidate list is not only not a joke, but also the embodiment of the Golden Rooster Award's spirit of "only recognizing the work and not holding any prejudices." If you still think this nomination is a joke, then examine whether there is a mountain of prejudice in your heart.
[Blog post 2] It seems that in the future, when making movies, you need to bring a lot of traffic, not only to earn box office, but also to be nominated...
This is a view that seems to concern the country and the people, but is actually dirty to the core. This prejudice is more serious than the previous one, and can even be said to have affected the development of Chinese films. This must be cleared up. Let’s not talk about the Golden Rooster Awards, which have professional judges who strictly control the threshold. Let’s talk about “traffic”: When we talk about “traffic”, what exactly are we talking about? It’s nothing more than the huge fan appeal that he brings with him, and the real money that this appeal can turn into. This is an actor’s own attribute, and he can’t get rid of it, because of his background. They are still actors. They cannot call others actors when we need box office to revitalize the Chinese film market. When we are done throwing it away, we call them "traffic" and spit twice. Such moral quality is worrying. Besides, since 10-15, "traffic has harmed movies" After that, most of today's young actors work very hard and fight hard. Those "traffic" who cried when their hands were broken have long been eliminated.
We must look at today's young actors from a developmental perspective. Chinese movies need fresh blood and call for the emergence of young actors. Don’t let public opinion stop the future of Chinese cinema. Taking a step back, today's veteran actors were once handsome men and beauties when they were young, but there was no such thing as "traffic" at that time. Today's young actors may have a higher starting point, but the path that the veteran actors have traveled has led them to leave, and it will be more difficult for them. The pressure they have to face is many times that of the veteran actors back then. Relax, the film industry is a field of survival of the fittest, and those who are not good will eventually be eliminated. Let us take a longer view and see who will be at the top ten years from now.
[About the nomination list] Except for Jinba’s performance (Back to Tibet), which I didn’t have the opportunity to see, I have watched all the other four’s works, and all of them more than twice. I was deeply impressed by each actor’s performance. The supporting actor award is a difficult one to judge in this year's Golden Rooster... Personally, I prefer Mr. Ye played by Wang Yibo and Qin Hui played by Lei Jiayin. Since Mr. Ye is Wang Yibo's first important big screen role, the scenes are sufficient and unexpected. The degree of completion, through his portrayal and interpretation, Mr. Ye is a completely gripping and fresh character
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starlostseungmin · 6 months ago
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husband!han
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✰ notes: posting this a day early since i’ll be out of town please enjoy <33 not proofread. REBLOGGING, COMMENTS AND LEAVING TAGS are highly appreciated! thank you <33
seungmin , chan , lee know , jeongin ( han )changbin , felix , hyunjin.
Husband Han who asked the baker and chef to put the ring inside the cake. You thought it was kind of old school and yet you cried when you saw the ring. He went down on one knee in front of the crowd as the waiter/waitresses came for assistance. “Will you be the mother of Bbama?” “Yes!” 
Husband Han who wrote a song that he’d use on the day of his wedding proposal. The lyrics consist of words about his feelings, how deep his love is for you, how thankful he is, and how you are his favorite person apart from his Minho hyung. He went on the small stage of the restaurant and grabbed a small piece of paper so he wouldn’t forget what he had written. 
Husband Han whom you can order around. He complains but still does whatever you ask for. Sometimes he just obeys quietly or if he’s in the mood, he looks like a kid who’s happy to help his parents with that adorable and proud smile plastered on his face.
Husband Han who loves to stay home and watch your favorite movies then proceeds to cuddle you all day. He also buys things that will serve good for your convenience and cause less effort. He is a home buddy for a reason. 
Husband Han who is happy as a clam when you visit him while he’s at work especially when you bring him and his members with a ton of food.
Husband Han who is a loud introvert and hits high notes effortlessly on a random Wednesday morning. 
Husband Han who overreacts, and screams at any small inconvenience when he gets a chance. Hyunjin would be the one to cover his mouth because his ears suffer the most. 
Husband Han who has a lot of feelings and takes everything to heart (playfully) during a nonsense argument and will say some things nonstop until both of you just laugh them off. Yet also the type to be calm and straightforward that would pierce your heart if it’s serious especially when he does have a point. 
Husband Han who sometimes doesn’t listen to you and is stubborn. 
Husband Han who apologizes hours later after thoroughly thinking of what he did or said wrong during the fight. He would hug you tightly when he sees you crying and say “I love you” instead of  “I’m sorry.”
Husband Han who listens attentively to your worries and gives you useful advice. If he feels like you don’t want to hear anything and just sit there in silence, he will hold your hand or bring you into his arms while kissing the crown of your head. 
Husband Han whose love languages are physical touch, quality time, and words of affirmation (through the songs he wrote). 
Husband Han who gets jealous when you pay too much attention to BBama instead of him. He would sulk at the corner and refuse to talk unless you baby him until he decides to forgive you. 
Husband Han who gets sentimental when sad so you let him lay on you and bury his face on your neck while you hum his favorite tune or just play with his hair while whispering some things that he needs to hear. He loves it when you do that. 
Husband Han who loves cheesecakes especially when you’re the one who made them. He’d devour them immediately with some iced coffee he got from Seungmin.
Husband Han who gets round when he eats something or just mainly his cheeks are the cutest that you want to kiss, pinch, or suddenly goes nom nom nom. 
Husband Han who doesn’t mind you wearing his clothes. He loves them on you. 
Husband Han whose voice you want to listen to all night after a long day because it’s soothing to hear and brings you comfort, especially when he is talking softly and in a gentle manner. 
Husband Han who gets undeniably shy when you kiss him, especially when you’re in public. He is all giddy and a blushing mess, expect to make out with him when you get home.
Husband Han who can sleep everywhere that you get jealous but he would ask you first if you want to cuddle until you fall asleep in whatever comfortable place you’re at. 
Husband Han who texts or calls you before going home from work just to ask how your day went and if you want him to buy something. Sometimes you do it the other way around. It’s a must in this marriage. 
Husband Han who spoils you a lot. 
Husband Han who respects whatever decision you make, especially when it comes to the thought of having kids. Just like anyone else, he doesn’t pressure you and wait until you’re the first one to initiate the topic. 
Husband Han who promised to love you and never leave until death do you part.
Husband Han who thinks that having you in his life is the greatest gift he could ever have and the best thing that ever happened. 
Husband Han whom you love, protect, and spend the rest of your life with along with Bbama. 
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✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow
©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.
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causenessus · 10 months ago
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Meeting Your Eyes. | Bungou Stray Dogs
inc: dazai, chuuya, tecchou (ft. cranky jouno <3), tachihara
written in 2nd pov (female implied!)
song recc: my jinji by sunset rollercoaster
word count: 1492 words
lil scenarios of meeting their eyes <3 chuuya and tachihara get special treatment with lowercase names in theirs bc their just so soft and i love them so much but they're all so sweet !!! i refuse to write dialogue in paragraphs so sorry they're mixed with the headcanons (๑´ ^ `๑) hope u enjoy!! this is my slightly late valentine's day post <33
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dazai
tries to meet your eyes the whole day at the agency
peeks above your laptop screen and to the side trying to grab your attention and pouts when you don’t look at him
solely because he wants attention or because he wants to convince you to go somewhere with him
Atsushi has discovered that it’s impossible to communicate with Dazai when he gets like this
the boy can only watch as Dazai progressively gets closer to you, and by the end he’s completely on his desk and leaning over yours <3
“[Y/N]...” he whined, using a hand to move your computer screen back and forth
“yes?” you said, keeping your eyes focused on the wobbling screen
“look at meee, please?” he inched closer to your face, almost breaking your mask
you know as soon as you look at him you won’t be able to say no
he’ll be giving you puppy eyes the entire day, and he knows that if he can get you to look at him, he’ll be able to convince you
“I’m sure Kunikida-kun wouldn’t mind if we went home a little early, can we please?” he continued to beg
you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to clear your mind, “even if he doesn’t mind–which I think is highly doubtful–I still have work I can get done. so the answer is no. you can hang in there, love.”
your words went through one ear and out the other, “can you say it while looking at me?” he was using a soft, quiet voice that was making it hard to stay strong. if he wasn’t so persuasive, you’d love to look at your boyfriend’s pretty face. it was already hard enough to not look at him even though you knew how convincing he could be
a hand brushed against yours, starting to play with your index finger as Dazai whined your name again.
you opened your eyes as you answered, “no, ‘Samu–” the moment you met eyes with him, your resolve faltered
he had the most adorable expression on his already endearing face that made your heart ache whenever he looked at you like this.
you averted your eyes as you silently closed your laptop, beginning to pack your bag, “...I suppose I could get it done tomorrow. and as long as it’s turned in by its deadline Kunikida-san will be fine with it.”
“oh! my belladonna!” Dazai exclaimed as he practically threw himself onto you, arms wrapped around your neck, “I knew I could convince you. let’s go home,” he gave you an innocent smile, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling away to gather his own things
chuuya
chuuya meets your eyes from across a corporate party
you’re the only one he can truly feel comfortable around in such a large setting. he feels safer knowing you’re safe when he’s around you and can see you
plus, he’s more than happy to walk around with you. he’s proud to be walking with the beautiful lady who’s turning every head <3 it’s even better because he knows that no matter what, you’re all his
he looks for you the moment he arrives at the party, searching the crowd for your face
he ignores anyone trying to talk to him or offer him something to drink. honestly, he waves everyone away, completely focused on finding you
he pushes past a couple in the crowd and suddenly he’ll see you; your eyes slightly wide and mouth parted as you meet his eyes from afar
as soon as you see him, you’re pushing through the crowd to get to him and he’s doing the same. you never take your eyes off of him, scared to lose him in the crowd again
when you finally meet, it’s like everything was set just for this moment. a beam of light perfectly shines over you both as you meet in the middle
“you look stunning, sweetheart,” he can’t help but say, hands trailing down your sides, resting on your hips
your arms drape across his shoulders and around his neck as you brush noses with him, “so do you, darling.” you both share a smile, continuing to look into his slate colored eyes. “I was looking everywhere for you.”
he can feel his heart start to slow as he relaxes in your hold. “so was I, doll,” as he stares into your eyes, he realizes that all he needs is you.
“say,” he murmurs, eyes lowering to watch his hands as they draw circles on your skin, “I know we just got here, but I just wanna be with you. wanna get out of here?” when he looks back up at you, his eyes are playful
“as long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go,” you respond, intertwining your hand with his as he starts to lead you through the crowd <3
tecchou
you meet eyes with Tecchou when you look across the table to find him already looking at you
your heart stirs, stricken by those pretty amber eyes, and he hasn’t even processed that you’ve caught him staring
he’s so entranced in you that he only smiles when you meet his eyes, his head resting on a hand
“Hiro, you’re staring again,” you say softly, your cheeks warm a little under his gaze
“I can’t help it, angel. I could stare at you all day and it wouldn’t be enough, you’re just too perfect.” <3
Jouno is most certainly not happy about it
“Tecchou-san, I can hear you ogling [Y/N]-san from here and I really wish you would stop. Please stop breathing while you’re at it,” he scoffs from the other side of the table
(it’s Jouno’s special way of saying he’s happy for you both <3)
probably how you ended up finding out that he liked you
he had never hidden how much he stared at you because he was never ashamed of it
you thought he was so charming when you first met him that you were surprised he would ever take interest in you
“it’s not just that you’re beautiful. it’s just like I can see how pure you are in character. everything around you is brighter, whether I’m looking at you or when I’m with you. it’s been like that ever since I first met you,” he answered when you brought this up the day he confessed
(ear plugs did not save Jouno in the room over who was reaching for a trash can
you try to hold his gaze whenever you meet eyes with him but you’re always the first to look away, face turning red while he only continues to look at you with a lovesick smile <3
tachihara
you’re the person tachihara looks to whenever someone says something worth sharing “a look” for or when someone says something funny
yk like when someone says questionable and you look to someone else like “did they just say that fr?”
that’s tachihara and you <3
whenever jokes are made, he laughs and looks at you to see if you found it funny as well
loves to laugh with you and make you laugh <3
he has a ton of inside jokes with you
for example, radios are heavily used in the mafia so that everyone can communicate
earpieces do their job, but despite the beauty of modern technology sometimes their audio can be so scratchy and incoherent. especially when people get farther away, the audio just gets harder and harder to understand
once, when tachihara took you out on a date and you both were walking around in a store, a worker came on to the intercom to say something but it just sounded like a jumble of fuzz and garbled words.
he nudged you with his shoulder saying, “sounds like hirotsu every time he tries to speak to us during a job.”
you both were crying, holding onto shelves and dying of laughter afterwards <3
and now every time during a job when you hear hirotsu through your ear piece, you both immediately look at each other with mischievous smiles and stifled laughter
even during the most serious of meetings–you both could be standing right in front of Mori and it’s like you guys have a telepathic connection
you both will look at each other simultaneously and share the same thoughts
meeting eyes with him always ends with you both having uncontrollable smiles that automatically spread across your faces <3
along with the knowing looks you two share, there’s so much love and adoration in your eyes for each other
he also knows that if you don’t meet his eyes or if they’re not as lively as usual, something’s wrong and he’s always quick to ask you what he can do to help <3
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aidansloth · 3 months ago
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Voice Modulator Shenanigans
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Summary: You and Hitoshi find yourselves in his dorm having fun with his voice modulator when you accidentally let some top-secret information slip.
Warnings and A/N: just swearing, this is all fluff don’t worry! Reader is gender neutral and written in the 2nd person. If you think Hitoshi is ooc, no he’s not. He's just happy.. Maybe inaccuracy on how his mask works but listen, I’m not an engineer. Oh, and established relationship. 
Words: 0.6k
I also posted this on AO3! Here's the link!
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It takes a good while for your and Hitoshi’s laughter to calm down, maybe too long but in your defense he did just give a flawless Katsuki imitation using his mask. When you finally find it in yourself to speak he’s still wiping tears from his eyes.
“I think you should pursue acting honestly.” 
He grins. “Yeah?”
“As a hobby even. I’d come to see your shows.” His grin becomes a smile and it gets even wider.
“You better bring me flowers for those shows then.”
“Only if you promise that I get a backstage pass.” 
“Deal.” 
There are a few beats of comfortable silence, your heads are laying next to each other on his pillow. Your shoulders are touching and the only thing you can hear is his breathing, gentle and regular. An idea pops into your head. You sit up and turn to look at your boyfriend, hardly containing your excitement; he looks up at you and he can already tell he’ll give you anything you ask for.
“What?”
“Can I try your mask on?” 
He stares blankly for a few seconds. “Sure. Though I’m not sure it’ll stay on your face correctly since it’s meant to fit my face exactly.”
“That’s fine, can you help me though?” Hitoshi had already the intention of helping you but he keeps that to himself, instead he nods and sits up with you, grabbing the device from his nightstand. 
“Who do you want to imitate?”
“Darth Vader.” 
He stares at you.
“What?” You ask.
“I thought you were more creative than this babe.” 
“Oh shut up and help me put on this damn mask.”
“Aye aye captain.”
He places the piece of equipment on your jaw trying to adjust it to your face as well as possible, he then toys with the settings. When he’s done he places a kiss on your forehead before moving away. 
“There, try to speak.” 
You clear your throat. “HELLO- OH GOD, IT WORKS!”
“Of course it works.”
“OH STOP IT WITH THE SASS.” He smiles fondly but doesn’t respond. You straighten your back and clear your throat again as you’ve been waiting for this moment your whole life. 
“HITOSHI, I AM YOUR FATHER.” 
He just stares at you. You stare at him. 
“OH COME ON, THAT WAS FUNNY.”
“No it wasn’t. Here, watch this.” With care he takes the mask off you and adjusts it on himself instead. You watch him change the settings in silence, wondering what character he’s got in mind. Once he’s done he looks at you dead in the eyes and speaks.
Gollum’s fucking voice comes out.
“My precioussss.” 
You cannot contain your laughter for the life of you. You end up falling back on the bed while clutching your stomach. And just like that three little words escape without your knowledge. 
“Oh my god I love you.” 
He freezes and so do you. He rips his mask off carelessly, chucking it on the black sheets under you. You slowly creep up from your position to look at him. 
“You what?”
“I, ehm- I love you?”
“Is that a question?”
“No! I- I love you. I do.” Silence falls again, your gazes never wavering. 
“Do you also or…”
“Oh God, yes, sorry, yes. I do. I love you too.”
A smile forms on your face and he matches it. 
This is a very sweet and romantic moment for the two of you as you can imagine which is why your gremlin ass decides to ruin it.
“You know- I might not mind the Gollum voice again in different circumstances-” You get interrupted by Hitoshi’s cushion being thrown in your face.
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Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism/advice is welcomed.
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silkythewriter · 10 months ago
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Hi! It’s the anon who asked the cat demon headcanons, (which I loved btw <3) And you asked, so I deliver! Here’s another request, although, please remember that you don’t have to do this and remember to take breaks ^^ Could you possibly, mayhaps do another Vox x reader? Where the reader is a HUGE extrovert, like they just randomly show up in front of his house at 3:00 am with McDonald’s in hand just because they didn’t wanna be alone at night or something like that? Headcanons is fine! :D
Vox with an extroverted reader!♡´・ᴗ・`♡
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Warnings!: Non! Just our silly lil tv demon <3
Fandom!: Hazbin hotel
Author note!: AHHH HI HI IM SO HAPPY FOR YOUR HAZBIN HOTEL ASKS THEY MOTIVATE ME TO WRITE SO MUCH AHHH TY SM FOR THE NEW REQUEST (also Vox is my fav lil silly guy I love writing for him ̋(๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑) )
Summary!: Vox with an extroverted reader!
❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! <3.❤️
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“(Where is my friend Smiley?) Your name is definitely Smiley!”
✿❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁✿
!📺✨Vox✨📺!
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OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT ON THIS, this man is not an extrovert per say, he is just very good at making people like him. Like look he much rather be working to gain more power then chit chat but he would do it to gain favors.
Like I said with my last post he’s very good at using his words to make people side with him. Now I wouldn’t say he’s a man of few words, definitely not. But he has a persona he wears in social interactions.
After a long day of just running his new channel/show, he honestly has zero energy, this man is exhausted after talking all day long to the citizens of hell. And making business deals upon business deals.
But with that being said he finds it re energizing to be around you. Maybe it’s the care free attitude you have, or maybe the pure excitement on your face when he opens the door at 3AM.
When he opens the door and sees you with a big ol’ grin on your face as you clutch a big bag of food with one hand and another big bag stuffed to the brim with your personal items in the other hand you can imagine his confusion
Either way he opens the door slightly to let you march in before you quickly put everything down and plopped down on his couch.
And after that it honestly just became a daily occurrence
At first he was a bit confused and overall just questioning why you were here at 3am of all times.
And if you ask if he minds of course he’ll say yes! He’s tired! Not like he finds it nice to be in your company or anything
No but really he probably to tired to protest half of the time so he just takes a seat next to you and starts digging in to whatever you bought.
Also he always blushes at how you always get his order right and knows what he likes…but he always turns away before you could sneak in a glance!
I’m all serious having you as company on lonely nights is quite literally a after live saver for him. Having you to talk to about anything and everything you both find interesting is wayyyyy more better then having Val or velvet screeching in his ear about something!.
After the first few times of this happening he always made sure to lay out extra blankets and pillows on the couch just for you two.
Now as for your personality he honestly finds it very energizing! Look he’s use to carrying the conversation (which he doesn’t mind) but it’s nice having someone else take the lead for a bit!
I will say he knows you aren’t naive or anything per say, but he can’t help be a bit over protective of you and your happy energy. And trust me he doesn’t mind getting his hands a bit dirty if someone tells you to water yourself down ( ̄ ^  ̄💧)…
He gives you a spare key so you could just waltz’s in whenever you wanted to be honest!
He finds it nice to cuddle on the couch and talk with you till you both pass out, and surprisingly it’s recharges his social battery!
After awhile the rolls might reverse with him now asking if you want to come over at late Hours if the night (๑>ᴗ<๑)
And even on the rare chance he has time in the mornings or evenings to hang out with you he always makes sure no one can disturb you guys. He has everything on silent even his inner notifications. And if they ask he just says he was glitching out ( =ω= )
The amount of shows you guys binge watch in one night is actually foul… like a 5 hour series done and completed in tops 2 hours. What black magic you guys use don’t ask me….!
If you end up asleep mid way one of the shows before him he will pick you up and take you to bed. He’ll make sure to put the AC full blast before covering you in blankets before hopping in himself. Now if he’ll admit this in the morning is a 50/50 chance
He only tolerates you doing this, anyone else and he’d be annoyed and just electrocute them out.
If you ever go to the three V’s building he honestly isn’t surprised with how you get along with almost everyone.
He dose a get a bit jelly at times when it come to you chit chatting with a whole bunch of people.
But in the end of the day he knows that’s just how you are and as long as you reassure him he’s your favorite hes fine with it.
If he hears anyone talk behind your back about your personality best believe they won’t be found any time soon.
You guys are always talking over socials honestly especially mid day when it’s busy but he just wants to talk to you! It helps him save the little sanity and patience he has with the people he’s surrounded by( ̄▽ ̄)💦.
Overall you help him cope after a long day and you never fail to make him smile!, and having someone to just goof around with and not needing to put on his business persona, is funny enough, a god send. He loves you very much!, and is thankful for whatever good deed he did when he was alive that earned him you.
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HELLO HELLO!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST, PHEW THAT WAS ALOT BUT I LOVED WRITING IT SM!!!!! Vox is my favorite character personally! He’s so silly <3
BUT AGAIN TY FOR REQUESTING I LOVED IT SO MUCH IT WAS SO MUCH FUN PLEASE REQUEST AGAIN WHENEVER!!! O(≧▽≦)O
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beneathashadytree · 5 months ago
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HEY GUYS! LONG POST HERE, BUT PLEASE READ🙏🏽
I am genuinely appalled by the discourse ongoing in the LNDS fandom these past few days—but above all, I am severely disappointed in what had started out as one of the most inclusive and sweet fandoms I’ve ever been in. I have a few things to say, so in this post I’m trying to put all my thoughts to words. Apologies if I sound harsh, but I’m genuinely livid. Also, please ignore any typos. I’m not wearing my glasses while word-vomiting.
First off, for a fandom that is composed of mostly adults, you guys have been acting terribly childishly. It’s 2024, and yet people are still unironically shaming others for “switching up on their favs” as if a person owes 2D characters any loyalty. Let people enjoy things. The novelty of Sylus and how he’s quite literally 6 months behind the other 3 love interests makes people want to catch up on the enjoyment of him all at once. He’s still such a brand new character and concept, so there’s no wonder everyone’s hyped up over him.
I’ve seen people get genuinely mad at other players and writing whole think-pieces about this. I promise you guys, the company making this game is still benefiting whether you’re pouring your money into Sylus or any one of the previous 3. We’re all happy to have an interesting character pop up among the roster now, and we’re taking our time getting to know him. Doesn’t make any of the first 3 any less loved. I genuinely don’t remember this amount of nastiness when solo events for each of the guys used to drop.
In fact, if the popularity thing is worrying you, going off MLQC (the company’s past game) the character who was last added was—eventually, after the initial hype died down—kicked off to the sidelines in most major events and was given the least content, and was the least favorite of fans.
Secondly, and this has my blood boiling, there is an insane amount of entitlement and rudeness I’ve seen on my timeline concerning how people characterize the men—particularly Rafayel.
Absolutely nothing warrants this shitty attitude towards other creators for how they depict characters in their fics. It seems you guys feel protected behind a screen and think it gives you the right to bully strangers online. Fanfiction is for fantasizing about your favs; for letting your imagination run wild. If this were a character analysis, then yes, maybe I’d agree that inaccuracies are aggravating. However, in fanfiction, there are zero rules, especially when it comes to smut.
Sexual preferences are not equivalent to a person’s whole personality—so whether he’s written as a dom, a sub, a switch, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, this has nothing to do with his kindness, gentlemanliness, passion, power, ruthlessness, snark, or whatever minuscule aspect of his character makes up his lovely whole and matters to you.
I think this circles back to a lack of ability to separate sexual matters and personality, because how else do people interpret fics depicting him in a certain manner as them erasing his character? They might overlap, but they can very well be mutually exclusive. I’ve seen incredibly sweet and gentle men irl who were absolute doms in bed, and I’ve seen powerful and passionate men who were reduced to tears between the sheets. There is barely any correlation whatsoever, and if anything, claiming otherwise is what I consider piss-poor media literacy and reading-comprehension.
My third point is that for some reason, there have been many, many posts and replies on here where I’ve seen people just straight-up spread pure hate for the characters. Maybe this bothered me in particular because I’m an OT3 (OT4 now!) and absolutely adore all of them, but I find no logical reason for “yucking someone’s yum” when we’re talking about liking the characters of an Otome game—a genre of video games which is made to literally cater to the tastes of as many people as possible.
It’s especially disheartening to see when it’s at a time like this, when new content is about to drop, and you find in the replies of every other post/discussion at least a few people spewing hate and disgust at Sylus. Again, so many people are incredibly excited about him. Why is there a need to rain on everyone’s parade, especially in such an unsolicited manner?
This fandom originally started as a safe space for people of all races, backgrounds, genders, sexualities, and personalities to bond over our mutual love for characters. All I’ve seen on my TL lately (in terms of discussion) is negativity, and it’s such a fucking let-down. I hope whatever the fuck has happened to this fandom cools down after a bit. It’s probably exaggerated and very in-your-face rn, cause more and more people are downloading LNDS, so the probabilities of finding people being nasty are increasing. But I seriously don’t want to grow to resent this fandom and find myself distancing myself from it to protect my peace.
Let’s all remember to be kind towards other players, to not act entitled or bratty about the characters, and to try and mind our own business if we see content that doesn’t suit our tastes.
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ladykailitha · 1 month ago
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Icarus Part 25
Damn. I actually hate seeing that number up there. Because that means it's done. Eight months, twenty-five chapters, 52895 words, and one hell of a ride.
I'll start posting the sequel on Tuesday, and will post Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays until it's done. I hope to get it done before October's end. But that's not looking likely at the moment.
But once it's done, I will post the epilogue. This was actually written first and was a way for me to flesh out the band members. Then I just wanted to dive right in to writing the full story. A link to the original idea here.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24
~
The rest of the American tour while it had its ups and downs was pretty much was uneventful. When Steve got back to Cali, he got some actual therapy from someone Gareth’s therapist, Dr. Sam Owens recommended to him. To not only deal with the abandonment issues left by his parents and Nancy but to help deal with the sudden onslaught of fame.
It was going well.
It was the therapist that had strongly recommended going on the vacation with his two best friends. That really helped put his life in perspective.
They were out celebrating Gareth’s one year of being sober and everyone had been invited. Jeff, Brian, and Eddie, of course. Even Vickie made it out. Dustin, Will, Mike, Max, Lucas, Ellie, Hopper, Robin, all the members of The Fallen, sans persona. Gareth had really become friends with all of them, yes even Steve. Gareth and Shane became really close. It was nice to see.
“Cheers!” Jeff said holding up their glasses of sparkling apple cider that they had all brought to share.
“Cheers!” the rest of them cried, clinking their glasses together.
They had rented out a nice surf and turf restaurant for the occasion and everyone was catching up. The owner was a friend of Jonathan’s, Argyle Rivera. He had gotten his start with a pizza food truck and it just exploded.
“So what did you and Mike decide to do?” Steve asked when there was a lull in the conversation. “I know you two weren’t sure the last time I was in Hawkins.”
Mike and Will shared a bashful look before Mike said, “I wrote a children’s book and Will illustrated it. We sent it out to a couple of different publishers so we’re just waiting to hear back.”
“That’s amazing!” Dustin cried. “You guys are going to be awesome.”
“Yeah,” Will said brightly. “I finally convinced Jonathan into going in to photography at the local community collage and he’s doing really well.”
“Nancy is going to school, too,” Mike said quietly, knowing how most of the group felt about his sister.
Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? What is the once great Nancy Wheeler going to be studying?”
Mike perked up a little that someone had taken a interest in what he said. “She’s actually going into journalism. Especially to be a war corespondent. After everything rightfully fell apart after the incident with The Fallen and Corroded Coffin, she took a hard look at her life and decided she hated the person she had become. So she’s been in therapy and has gotten into her dream school of Emerson.”
“That’s good,” Steve said quietly. Robin gave his a hand gentle squeeze and he returned it with a grateful smile.
“What are doing next, Ellie?” Brian asked. “Designing more epic costumes for the rich and famous? I saw that dress you designed for Lupita Nyong’o for the premier of her new movie. That was a gorgeous shade of purple.”
Ellie’s face dimpled in the force of her wide, happy smile. “Something like that. I’m just glad the dress turned out so well. I’ll be heading back to New York, to stay this time. I got a job at a fashion house that I’m really excited for.”
“What about you and Dusty?” Lucas asked, tilting his head. “I thought things were going great.”
Both Dustin and Ellie share a blushing smile.
“We’re still together,” Dustin replied. “I’ll be in Boston and she’ll be in New York. We’ll going to try and make it work.”
Max nodded. “Long distance can suck, but if the other person is worth it you can make it work.” She nudged Lucas’s shoulder and he grinned back.
“So you didn’t get traded to Lakers like you wanted?” Gareth asked Lucas.
He shook his head. “Maybe next year. But in the mean time, Max has a couple interviews at Tony Hawk’s video game company as a mo-cap performer for the female characters in his games.”
Everyone oohed and ahhed and congratulated her.
“I don’t have the job yet,” she muttered, but happily soaked up the attention anyway.
Dustin turned to Steve and Robin. “When are you two going to do something with your lives?”
Eddie winced and Steve and Robin didn’t even have to glance at each other to be suddenly on the same wavelength of doom.
If this was an anime you would have have seen the dark waves behind their heads.
“We make good money doing what we do,” Robin said darkly. “Yeah, it’s a bit jack of all trades, but it’s fun. We’re never stuck doing the same thing. We get travel all over the world. We get to meet famous people and all the perks of fame with the drawbacks of having our privacy invaded on the regular.”
“Jack of all trades, but master of none,” Dustin said to be pedantic. “Don’t you guys want to do something specific, like a teacher or a doctor?”
Robin snorted. “No.”
Chrissy hand covered hers, and Robin gave her a squeeze back. She was fine, just annoyed.
“Yeah,” Steve said. “And I don’t why being a jack of all trades is bad thing. Focusing on one thing is great for the people who can do it, but I love the different jobs. Roadie one tour, PA another, then EMT the next. It’s great.”
Dustin frowned, stabbing his plate with his fork.
“My therapist says people are like plants,” Gareth said, “some people are trees and they grow up slowly. Some are bamboo and in the right environment shoot up super fast. But some people are like periwinkle and grow out sideways. Robin and Steve are like that. It’s still growth, just not the growth you want them to have.”
“I guess,” he huffed. He looked up at Steve. “Are you happy doing what you do?”
Steve and Eddie shared a glance. “Yes, for all its faults, I am very happy.”
He nodded and they went back to celebrating Gareth’s year of sobriety. But under the cover of the loud celebration and raucous laughter, Vickie and Simon chatted quietly to themselves.
~
Steve and Eddie lay on the bed in Eddie’s mansion curled up together after sex.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked Steve when he had curled up under his chin and held on tight.
“We were out celebrating,” he murmured, “and I couldn’t even tell them we were in a relationship.”
“Most of the people there already knew, babe,” Eddie murmured. But when Steve didn’t say anything it clicked. “You wanted to tell the kids. Especially after the bomb Mike dropped about Nancy moving on.”
Steve nodded.
Eddie scooted down the bed to look Steve in the eye. “Whatever you do or don’t tell them is entirely up to you I don’t care either way.”
“You don’t care that we’ll never get to go on dates or be seen holding hands or kissing?” Steve asked seriously.
Eddie shook his head. “Do you want to know why?”
“I guess,” Steve said with a half shrug.
“Because when I first got into the music business,” Eddie murmured, “I slept with anyone who would give a passing fancy.”
Steve looked up at him in confusion. “But I thought you already had a crush on me then?”
“I did,” Eddie confirmed. “But here’s the thing, sweetheart, do you know who’s partners get torn apart the most in celebrity relationships?”
Steve shook his head.
“Those with non-famous partners,” Eddie said. “If your partner is anything other than a C or B list celebrity when you’re an A-list, you get called out for ‘slumming it’ and their partners get called all sorts of nasty names, but especially ‘gold digger’. Which is the last thing I wanted for you.”
“Is that why you were okay with being with after you found out I was secretly famous?”
Eddie rose up and tackled Steve into the pillows. “You listen close, Steve Harrington. That was absolutely not why. I didn’t even show up with the flowers intending on confessing anything other than knowing your secret. It was like I suddenly saw all the facets of the diamond I’d been admiring for years and realizing any reason I had to not put myself forward were stupid.”
Steve blinked up at him in awe. “Oh.”
“Yeah, baby, ‘oh’,” Eddie huffed. “Continuing to protect you from the shame and humiliation of the slings and arrows of the media is my mission in life, okay? And if you ever decide to come out, either as bisexual as Steve or as Steve as Abbadon, I will be there for you. One hundred percent.”
Steve’s eyes welled up and he nodded. “Okay.” His lips quivered. “I love you so much. I just want you to be happy.”
Eddie kissed him fiercely. “I know you do and you make me very happy. The Fallen, Abbadon, being closeted? All that? That’s just a part of you that I love.” He bounced onto the bed. “In fact...”
He grabbed his phone and started going through it. “Eureka!” He turned the phone around to a paint of a night, shielding a maiden from the sun and a large crowd of people. This is us, babe. I am the knight and you are my maiden. I won’t get tired, or upset that you need protecting.”
Steve blushed. He sat up and pulled up his knees to his chest. “When we first started coming up with names for us, we didn’t originally all have the same letter.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Wait, really?”
Steve shook his head. “Spence was just Death. Shane was always Astraeus. Simon was struggling with finding a name that fit.”
“And did you have your name picked out?” Eddie asked gently, knowing where this was going.
He pursed his lips and nodded. “I didn’t think we’d make it this far. I really thought we would have crashed and burned by now.” He closed his eyes and hung his head. “Part of the myth with Icarus and the wax wings that people forget was that he was flying all over the place. That if he flied straight and true like his father suggested, he would have survived. But he flew too close to the seas as well as the sun.”
Steve sighed and then looked over at Eddie. “And that’s what I thought I was doing with the band. Flying too low with the fact that we were preps wanting to break into the metal scene and then flying too high with the personas and masks. I was going to not only wreck my life but the lives of people I cared about.”
He let out a low shuddering breath. “That maybe I should have listened to my father. To go to college, to get a degree in business, to fly straight.”
“So what changed your mind?” Eddie asked. “Other than Shane wanting everyone to have all the same letter as a middle finger to everyone trying to guess your identities, I guess.”
Steve let out a watery chuckle. “Shane reminded me of the beginning of Icarus’s story. That he had grown up in the labyrinth, never seeing the sky. How could his father had not seen that of course Icarus was going to play the second they were out? That, yes they were fleeing for their lives, but this was the first time his son had seen the sun, felt the breeze on his face and touched the waves on the sea.”
“But if Daedalus had played with Icarus instead of yelling at him, his father would have been able to keep him from getting too close to the things that would have harmed him,” Steve finished. “That he would have been there to catch his son when he began to fall.”
“So what was the lesson?” Eddie prompted.
“I wasn’t Icarus,” Steve said. “I was always free, I might have fallen from grace according to my parents, but that like God in the Christian story, they were cruel and cast me out because what they wanted for me wasn’t what I wanted.”
Eddie smiled. “So you became Abbadon instead. The one that fell but God still relied on to destroy the wicked. The opposite of Steve Harrington. The boy that rose up like a phoenix from the ashes to be better than his parents dreamed.”
Steve nodded. “Yeah. Icarus was the first to fall mythos wise, but Abbadon was the one people fear coming back.”
Eddie pulled him close. “Well, you’re my angel, now. Fallen or not, I’m not giving you up for anything.”
Steve kissed him softly. “I’m putting a lot of trust you, Munson. Don’t fuck this up.”
Eddie laughed and kissed him fiercely. Then he proceeded to show Steve all the ways loved him.
Steve knew he might always have doubts and fears, but now he had the support system he always needed.
It was more than past time to fly and in Eddie’s arms there was no limit to how high he could go now.
And he wouldn’t want it any other way.
~
Tag List: CLOSED
1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog
2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence
3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006
4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten
5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt
6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95
7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars
8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec
9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology
10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay
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fandomgirlz01 · 27 days ago
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Somewhere Out There 
Paul {TLB} X Reader
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Imagine on fandom instagram?: No
Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: No
Style of Writing: Stand Alone Fic (has potential for more in the future though... 😉)
Rating: R for some mature themes such as smoking as well you know the description of a vampire losing it and going absolutely raving mad, like so mad all he sees is red 😉
Edited: Yes
Word count: 4,867
Post Date & Time: November 1st 2024 at 12:16AM
Ko-fi
Masterlist
Warnings Here 
Listen to the story be read out loud here.
Summary: Ever since all the vampires have known they and humans alike have a soulmate. The only member of the lost boys who hasn’t found his other half is Paul, but what happens when he does actually find them? 
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PSA from Faith: This is the first time I am writing for a character from The Lost Boys. I just love both Paul and David as well as Dwayne and Marko. Yet I also love Mike so you might see more of this fandom down the line… maybe. I have loved some of the works that I have read for this fandom, however I did notice there’s not very many where it’s not just centered on one of the boys specifically so I thought I’d give them (especially my favorites) a little attention. I did try to keep some canon and I also went non canon so before any of you guys come at me for it not being all accurate, this is just how I foresaw the boys okay? By the way you do NOT need to have seen the movie to read this fic. Yes it’s based off of the characters, but it will be spoiler free if you choose to watch the movie that is completely up to you guys. That being said I have NEVER written a soulmate AU before so if this isn’t 100% right, I’m sorry, but again this is just how I wanted to depict it all and I just really wanted to try something newish. Thank you and please enjoy the story! 
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Song that goes with fic:
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Many say Santa Carla has its deep dark secrets hidden away in the shadows, and only some know what those secrets are. Just like every night the boardwalk is lit up; couples walk under the moonlight none the wiser to what lurks in the night, others play games and go into the stores or on rides. Shouts of cheer and fright are all surrounding while the vampires make their usual meander all over the boardwalk, senses sharp yet vigilant as they look for anything they can do for a bit of amusement or maybe even find some dinner. 
Tonight, however, David notices that Paul seems to wander back behind them, seemingly feeling down which is unusual for the other blond vampire. Paul kicks at the dirt as he finds himself locked in his thoughts once more, thinking about her and what she might just be like. David laughs at something Marko said before telling the baby of the group (a nickname given to him by all the boys because that’s just what Marko is, the baby who everyone wants to protect, the happy-go-lucky spirit of the group and most innocent looking one) to keep going and he’ll catch up to him soon. Marko agrees before skipping off to walk and talk with Dwayne. David watches his brothers for a moment before turning around. He comes up beside Paul and pats him on the back, knowing just what Paul is thinking about. 
Ever since the vampires knew they each had a soulmate, all that mattered was when they’d find each other. The only one of the group who hadn’t found his soulmate yet was Paul, and sometimes he’d get discouraged when thinking of it all. When he did, he’d leave the mind link so his brothers didn’t have to hear his incessant inner thoughts, but David knew. He always knows. 
“You’ll find her, Paul. I know you will. It’s only a matter of time,” David tells his brother as he pulls him into his side. 
“Yeah, but it’s been so long, David. You’ve all found yours. What if I’m not meant to have one?” Paul asks, discouraged once more and David holds back the sigh he wants to let out at having had this conversation a million times before. 
“Listen, Paul. I know it feels that way. I used to feel that way before I met Nyra, Dwayne felt that way before meeting Amalie, and Marko felt that way before meeting sweet Charlotte. We’ve all felt that way at one point or another. It’ll pass,” David promises as he squeezes his brother’s shoulder. 
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“I don’t know, David. It’s been a lot longer for me…” Paul again denies and David clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. 
“Well, you still have that song title written on your wrist, don’t you?” David asks.
“And you still see all colors, right?” Marko asks as he pops up behind the two, always the one to pop up at random times. 
“Yeah. I still have both…” Paul mutters as he holds up his wrist, showing the song title Somewhere Out There, a song by Linda Ronstadt and James Ingram that he knows well. 
“See, if you didn’t see color anymore or the song had faded, that’d mean she was dead. The fact you have both is a good thing,” Marko cheerily adds on, slapping him softly on the back and Paul only sighs. 
“What if she doesn’t have it? I mean, I’m dead myself,” Paul adds on and David shakes his head, laughing. 
“I’ve told you, Paul. I was dead and I still had it all, still do,” David informs him as he thinks of his Nyra and Marko hums in agreement. 
“And technically you're not dead, you're undead! Huge difference, buddy,” Marko very pointedly yet happily adds.
“I don’t think being a vampire changes the soulmate laws. I think you’d have to be dead dead, like in the ground dead for that,” Dwayne adds with a shrug as he now jumps in to help comfort his brother. 
Nobody really knows all the details about soulmates and the way it works. For centuries, they’ve all just known that it’s a powerful thing that only comes from the universe. People have done studies, but even then they’ve only learned the basics, so people and vampires just go with it, continuously being pulled together. 
“Who knows! Maybe you’ll find her tonight!” Marko again happily adds on, not knowing how right he might just be. 
“Yeah… maybe…” Paul sighs out, choosing to just agree with them to change the subject. 
Each of them always found their other half and David was sure it’d happen for Paul at some point if not sooner than later. Turns out David, Marko and Dwayne were right because as the night went on, they continued to goof off on the boardwalk for a few more hours before suddenly Paul felt different. He couldn’t put a finger on why he felt lighter all of a sudden. He thought for a moment maybe it was the new strain they’d all smoked before the night started, it felt like being high, but at the same time it didn’t feel like the high he was used to. 
“Do you guys smell that amazing smell?” he asks, perking up as they ride on the carousel again for the millionth time. 
“No. What is it, Paul?” David asks, concern written all over his face until he realizes what’s going on. 
“It smells sweet and fresh. Like… like…” Paul struggles to describe the smell that just hit him. 
“Like vanilla and cinnamon mixed together. Like… home…” Paul finally mutters as his confusion grows more and more. 
“Paul. Follow the scent. Let your nose guide you,” David commands his brother with a growing smile that he shares with the other boys, who catch onto what’s going on. 
“What? Me? Why? I suck at catching dinner,” Paul asks, knowing he definitely isn’t the best hunter of the group. More often than not, somehow Paul would lose his prey and Marko is the first to snicker. 
“That isn’t dinner you're smelling, Paulie my boy,” David tells him, his own grin growing in happiness for his brother. 
“What is it then?” Paul asks, confused and Marko face palms. 
“Dude. Just follow it and maybe find out!” Marko shouts as he pulls his hand away from his face and Paul shrugs. 
“Okay. What could it hurt?” he asks nobody in particular before doing just as his brothers had said. 
He follows the scent, electricity seeming to flow through him, making his toes and fingers tingle the more he moves toward it. The scent grows more and more intoxicating, making him feel more primal than ever before. The sweet smell only calls to him like a siren's call, making his whole body seem to light up. 
He continues to follow it, his brothers all flanking him, egging him to keep following it as they protect him while he’s in his unusual focus. The closer he gets to the alluring scent, the thicker it gets in the air. His blood boils though his veins which if he was not so focused, he would have thought that was weird for a vampire, but he could care less at the moment. He continues to follow the scent like he’s a compass needle, looking for its true north until he comes to a stop in front of the music store. He stands there frozen as he looks on at one of the workers, a girl at the counter talking with a customer as she rings them up. 
“Welp, Paul, my boy. I’d say you just found yourself your soulmate,” David happily comments as they all watch you from the large opening in the side of the building. 
Paul doesn’t answer as he watches you in awe and without knowing it, Paul’s ears activate his vampire hearing so he can hear you. He smiles to himself as the first thing he hears is the music you have playing on the boom box behind you: Somewhere Out There. Then he’s smiling wider as he overhears your conversation, your voice a brand new melody he never wants to forget. 
“That’ll be eight dollars, buddy,” you tell the kid who reaches into his pocket. 
“Oh. Linda Ronstadt. I love her work,” the kid tells you as he hands you the money and you smile warmly at him. 
“I love her too, but this is my favorite song. You wanna know why?” You ask the kid, putting the ten dollars he gave you into the register and without a doubt Paul knows exactly what you’re gonna say. 
“It’s mine and my soulmate's song, see,” you happily tell the kid after he nods and you hold out your wrist. 
“Wow! You and your soulmate must really be meant for one another then,” the kid tells you and you grin even more as you go back to getting his change. 
“Here's your two dollars back. Have fun listening to that tape,” you tell him as you reach out and hand him his money. 
Meanwhile, Paul still stands frozen, just staring at you in awe. His brothers all stand around him, smirking as they watch the lovesick look that he’s had to watch on all their faces wash over his own face now. 
“Well, aren’t you going to go over and say hi…?” Marko asks, nudging Paul a little bit, but again Paul doesn’t speak back, so entranced with watching you. 
You watch the little boy leave until he walks around the corner and then feel someone’s eyes on you, so you look around until your eyes land on Paul. The two of you make eye contact and stare at one another for a few minutes before he seemingly snaps out of the moment and walks away looking sad. You don’t know why (well actually that’s a lie, you have an inkling as to why, but you shrug it off) but you feel sad that he seems sad and wish you could just give him a hug. With a shake of your head, you decide to leave it be seeing as he was with a group of what seemed to be friends that could comfort him and just go back to work. 
“Paul?” David asks as Paul starts to hastily walk away, moving faster and faster by the minute, heading for his bike and his brothers follow after him in confusion. 
“Paul? What’s wrong? That’s your soulmate, buddy. You gotta go say hi!” Marko tries but Paul shakes his head, seemingly angry now. 
“No, I don’t,” he almost practically seeths out before kicking his kick stand up and starting his bike up. 
The three brothers watch on in confusion as he rides off and once he’s gone, Marko turns to David. David stands there with arms crossed, trying to figure out what would have spooked him. 
“You’d think he would have been happy. He’s been waiting for this moment for centuries…” Marko comments in utter disbelief and confusion. 
“You would think so,” Dwayne comments next, breaking David out of his thoughts. 
“Let’s go find him,” David commands before getting onto his bike with the others following suit and getting onto their own bikes. 
Together they all ride out to the cliff side where they know Paul goes when he wants some peace and quiet. Sure enough, they find him there sitting on his bike and smoking another rolled cigarette with his head low. 
“Paul?” David asks in an attentive tone, which is unusual for the vampire who’s normally commanding and stern.
No matter how cold, commanding and stern as he can seem or be, he still cares for his brothers, all three of them. David, Marko and Dwayne slowly get closer to him, if anyone was watching them right now, they would be surprised to see vampires of all creatures being soft on one another, but again Paul is their brother. They found each other and became family and as David likes to say, family comes first. 
“Paul, what’s wrong?” Marko softly asks again out of character.
“What’s wrong? Ha! What’s wrong?!” Paul retorts in what sounds like disbelief, rolling his eyes at the question. 
“She’s human! I can’t go near her. I’ll hurt her and I could never ask her to become one of us and… and…” Paul trails off, taking a gulp as he now tries to hold his tears back. 
“It’d ruin her beauty, man…” Paul sadly mutters, shaking his head in anger. 
“And to ask her to give up her life. Just to be with me. I can’t… I won’t…” Paul chokes on his words before lowering his head, refusing to look at his brothers. 
“Paul. How do you know that isn’t what she’d want? You gotta at least try to fight for her,” Marko comments with a frown, sad for his brother. 
“I don’t care if that’s what she’d want, Marko! She’s my soulmate! It’s my job to protect her! How do I do that the way I am?! Huh?!” he shouts in his brother's face, anger running through him as he heaves while Marko takes a step back. 
“How do I protect her from myself, huh, Marko?? Tell me that one,” he continues to let his anger take over before he sighs, turning around. 
“But if you love her that much already, then you couldn’t hurt her. You’re only hurting yourself by not reaching out to her,” Marko continues to try and convince Paul, who scoffs again, shaking his head as he flicks his joint away. 
“No. I’m protecting her. My pain is a small price compared to if she were to be hurt,” Paul mutters softly before he shrugs halfheartedly. 
“I’ll meet you guys back home at the cave,” Paul softly promises before kicking his kick stand up and starting the bike back up. 
“Dude needs to calm the heck down,” Marko comments as they all watch him drive away. 
“He’s just blinded by the shock of her being human. He’ll come around eventually. Paul always does, he likes to stew in his thoughts, ya know,” Dwayne comments back and Marko laughs in agreement. 
“Yeah. For being the wild carefree guy he is, he definitely is too broody sometimes. And people say you're the broody one,” Marko adds on with a roll of his eyes and Dwayne nods in agreement, chuckling along. 
“Hey. I’m most definitely the broody one. Paul is the crackhead. He smokes more than any of us…” Dwayne practically complains, making Marko laugh some more. 
“Awe, jealous that your place will be taken?” Marko taunts and Dwayne crosses his arms across his chest. 
“At least I don’t get called the baby…” Dwayne argues back with a smirk when Marko shyly grins, proving his point. 
“I actually don’t mind it…” Marko replies with a shrug and Dwayne shakes his head at him. 
“Of course you don’t,” Dwayne chuckles out and David reaches up to grab onto both of their shoulders, giving a light squeeze. 
“Okay. Okay. That’s enough, you two. Come on,  We’ll just leave him be for now. He’ll reach out though the link should he need us. For now, let’s go find dinner for ourselves,” David commands with a roll of his eyes at their play fighting. He still worries for Paul, but he knows he just needs time to come to terms with everything. 
“You got it, big D,” Marko jokes and Dwayne holds back the laugh he wants to let out at David’s annoyed look. 
This is how it always was with the brothers. Dwayne is definitely more silent and broody when others are around and Marko is the innocent curious one. David is leader and commander while Paul is the crackhead that will jump to do anything, yet Paul has always been the most in touch with his emotions, hence why he smokes. 
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Meanwhile, as his brothers go on the hunt for dinner, Paul finds himself back at the boardwalk and sits on the beach, just watching the waves. He can still smell that intoxicating scent that he now knows is all you, so very strong that it makes him want more and more of it. He keeps his eyes closed, listening to you talk to all kinds of different customers that come and go. Soon before he knows it, you're closing up shop, saying goodbye to your coworker that stands with you as you pull down the door and lock it up tight. It’s only then he realizes all the loudness and craziness that normally surrounds the boardwalk is now quiet. 
He watches as you turn and you pull your headphones that had been resting around your neck up to your ears. He then starts to follow you, but stays in the shadows just watching over you. At first you look around like you're weary of something or someone being around, but you shrug nonchalantly and continue to walk. He watches over you with pure adoration rolling off of him, yet he also stays vigilant in case someone or something were to harm you. However if anyone saw the way he follows you, they’d probably say he follows like a lost puppy.
Finally after a long walk down the beach, you walk up the stairs to a door and open it before heading inside which makes him realize it’s probably your home. He stays for a while, just sitting on the bottom step, not fully ready to leave you just yet. Eventually the sun starts to rise, so he reluctantly leaves you safe in your apartment and heads home back to the cave. When he walks in, it’s only then he realizes he hadn’t eaten, so taken with making sure you were safe to even really care. He walks further in and finds David sitting in his wheelchair he loves so much. 
“Did you eat, Paul?” David asks with a raised eyebrow and Paul shakes his head. 
“I, uh… forgot…” he mutters, thinking David would be mad, but he’s surprised when David just smiles. 
“It’s okay. We saved you some. Did you figure out what you want to do?” David asks and Paul sighs once more. 
“I’m going to leave her be. That’s it,” Paul tells him and David sighs, sitting forward. 
“Paul. The universe will never let you stay away from her. You might be able to resist for a while, but eventually something will pull the two of you together,” David tells him in a pointed tone. He tries to be soft on him even though he wants to just command him to go talk to her or have max sire him to do it, but David won’t do that, he knows Paul has to choose to go to her himself. 
“It’s whatever, David. I’m going to eat and go to sleep,” Paul responds, shrugging before disappearing toward where they store their food sometimes. 
David frowns as he watches his brother disappear before sighing and shaking his head. David stands slowly from the chair before going and joining Dwayne and Marko as well as all their soulmates in sleeping from the rafter, knowing Paul will join once he’s finished eating. 
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Three months have gone by now and every night, David seems to notice that at a certain point in the night Paul will just simply disappear. Where Paul disappears to, David thinks he knows, but he doesn’t want to try and interfere and so he lets him do his thing. 
Once again Paul sits in the sand, watching the waves and just listens to you the whole night. He’d come to realize that your voice is more calming to him then even a joint could be, so he just sits there and listens. Like every night since that first night he’d sat there listening to you and enjoying a peace he never knew he needed until you close up shop. Without fail every single night for the past three months, he waits until you have your headphones on and then he stays in the shadows as he follows you home, just wanting you safe. However, tonight something feels off and Paul just can’t figure it out. 
He’s been trying to figure out why your scent that’s so alluring to him seems off, but he can’t place why. He’s in such deep thought about it that he doesn’t clock the two surfer nazi’s creeping up from the other side. It’s when the one guy grabs you and pulls you into the dark under the boardwalk that Paul is alerted. He quickly follows after and finds one of the surfer nazi’s holding you struggling against the cement wall while the other one seemingly watches. 
“I told you earlier I’d find you and we’d have some fun,” the surfer nazi holding you growls as you continue to squirm and fight him. 
“And I said I didn’t want to. I do have a soulmate, ya know?!” You shout out and for a minuscule minute Paul stops to wonder if you’ve known he’s been around, but he shakes his head clear. 
“And I said I don’t care. Now stay still,” the surfer nazi commands out though a growl and when you don’t do as he says, he reaches up to smack you, fear falling over your face. 
Paul, however, feels his veins boil and an anger he’s never ever felt before washes over him. All he sees is red as he transforms into his vampire self and pulls the first guy off to the side, snapping his neck in the process before pulling the second guy off of you. You watch on as he pulls the guy away and punches him down before crouching over him. He bares his fangs before sinking his teeth into the guy's throat and ripping at it. When he’s satisfied that the guy is good and gone, he stands, heaving for breath, blood all over his face. Suddenly though, like breaking through a fog, his anger dissipates and he turns to look at you. 
You sit there against the sand, staring at the scene in front of you and he immediately rushes over. He crouches down next to you, shielding your view of the carnage behind him. 
“Hey. You okay?” he asks softly and all you do is nod as you stare at him with wide eyes, making him think you're scared when you're more in awe. 
“I’m sorry if I scared you at all, but I promise I am of no threat to you,” he quickly informs you, hoping it’ll help calm your fear, but he’s shocked when you softly smile at him. 
“I’m not scared of you, far from it actually…” you pause, trailing off to bite at your lip. 
“I was actually wondering when you’d come out of the shadows and talk to me,” you shyly admit, a blush on your cheeks now and a warm fuzzy feeling takes over Paul’s stomach. 
“It, uh, it was about time…” he admits almost shyly himself even though he’s shocked that you knew he'd been there all along. 
“I take it, you know who I am then?” he asks and you grin, nodding. 
“You’re that cute guy I saw a few months back standing on the beach,” you tell him, not quite sure if he knows about the two of you being soulmates or not. 
“I’m uh, y/n. Thank you for saving me…” you shyly continue and he shakes his head. 
“I’m Paul, and there’s really no reason to thank me,” he responds with a shrug as he gives you his name in return. 
“Hello, Paul, it’s very nice to meet you,” you joke with him and he chuckles, not being able to help but just adore you. 
“Here. I’ll walk you home,” he starts as he stands before holding a hand out for you. 
“So basically what you’ve been doing for the last three months, only I can actually talk with you now?” You jokingly ask in faux shock and he playfully yet bashfully rolls his eyes. 
“I had my reasons-” he shrugs before you place your hand in his and his sentence gets cut off with a halted breath as the two of you stand. 
He’s stunned by just how easily your hand fits in his like a puzzle piece and how warm you are. You look up at him, making real eye contact for the first time and as he looks into your eyes, his whole center seems to shift once more as an all consuming love for you just flows through him. 
“Are you okay, Paul?” You ask as you reach up and rub his cheek, trying to get some of the blood off, shocking him even more. 
“No. Yeah, I’m okay,” he tells you although he so badly wants to kiss you, but before he can he’s shaking his head as if to rid himself of the thought. 
“Come on. Let’s get you safe at home,” he fully breaks the tension now, ruining the moment and you frown before nodding as the two of you start to walk. 
Hey, boys. There’s food on the beach if you want it. He reaches out to his brothers though the mind link they share before you nudge him as the two of you walk. 
“So are you the only one I’m safe with? Or is your whole group supposed to like, protect me now?” You joke, but Paul can tell it’s a serious question that you want answered. 
“Nah… No vampire will hurt you. Not with me around now. Definitely not from my pack anyway. You’ve kinda already been adopted into the family,” he informs you and you give him a confused look like you're not fully getting it. 
“You’re part of this family whether you decide to change or not…” he tells you while trying to hide the fact he knows your soulmates. 
“Why?” You ask, egging him on hoping he’ll say it first and he pauses for a moment, trying to decide if he wants to tell you or not. 
“Well umm… because you're my soulmate,” he shyly admits, he’d probably start blushing if vampires could and you let out a giggle, making him look at you in shock. 
“Oh, my sweet Paul. I knew… you really thought I wouldn’t know? Especially when you’ve been following me home every night like a lost puppy. I knew it the moment our eyes first met,” you pointedly tell him with a proud smile.
“Why didn’t you say anything to me then?” he asks and you pause to purse your lips. 
“Well you walked away looking rather sad and I just wanted to give you a hug, but your friends-” 
“Brothers,” he corrects you and you smile softly at him. 
“You were with your brothers,” you amend your first words with a shrug before going on. 
“I assumed you just were shocked by finding me and you’d come talk to me eventually but you never did. I assumed you just didn’t know how to approach me,” you explain to him as you show him your wrist proudly with the words he knows so well written in matching ink: Somewhere Out There. 
“No. I wanted to. Believe me, I did so badly, but my fears of what I am got in the way of it all. I’m sorry,” he explains before looking away in shame. 
“It’s okay. We all let the fear get the best of us sometimes, but I’m glad we’ve finally actually met,” you tell him as you stop in place to turn to him and reach up to touch his cheek, not really caring about the blood. 
“Even with the circumstances of how we met?” he asks you with a raised eyebrow and you let out a giggle that sounds heavenly to his ears. 
“Yes. Even with the circumstances of it all,” you tell him and he shakes his head at you in disbelief before grinning at you. 
“Yeah. Again I’m sorry. I just wanted to protect you, even from myself,” he says and he grimaces at himself after saying it. 
“Paul. It’s really okay. I’m just glad we're together now. We are, right?” You ask, scared he’ll leave you at your apartment and never come back. 
“Babe, I couldn’t leave now even if I tried,” he charmingly tells you with a grin taking over his face. 
“Good, because I wouldn’t want you to,” you grin now too, happy to be on the same page. 
That's how the night ends, with you and Paul now walking hand in hand in the moonlight. Paul can’t help but to think just how right his brothers had been, if only he’d talked to you that very first night this could have been the two of you every night for the last three months. But Paul refuses to think any further about it and can’t help but smile the whole way as he walks you to your apartment. He leaves you there knowing you’ll be safe, promising to see you tomorrow night and together you both know this is the start to an even more beautiful story for the two of you to tell in the future. 
The End...
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puppetwoman17 · 7 months ago
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Would you ever expand upon your joker junior thoughts more? I think that was such a well written idea and would love to hear what else you think about it
Oh my god yes. 100000% YES!
That post before was more of an idea vomit, didn’t cover all of what I thought, so I’m happy to hear someone wants to hear more.
So, JJ’s always been a tough convo for Tim. Obviously. But it’s not just because of how traumatizing the Joker can be, or about the shocks and psychological torture. It also reminds him of a grim time in his life. With Bruce still going through the motions post-Jason’s death, and Dick frequently spending all his time in Bludhaven, he hadn’t been watched much. Save for Babs, ofc.
That’s actually why they’re so close. She’s much more emotionally competent thanks to her dad, lol.
JJ wasn’t only a big thing for Tim, but for Gotham too. In a place like this, it wasn’t hard for whispers from the Joker’s men to travel to civilians and cops. Everyone knew why Robin was nowhere to be seen. Everyone knew why Batgirl looked the way she did, agitated and worried. Everyone knew why the cops searched that same warehouse over and over, never allowing anyone inside.
Which was also why no one was happy to see Nightwing, very obviously the first Robin, return after yet another sabbatical in Bludhaven. Of course, that stopped a little after everyone collectively realized that, oh crap, he doesn’t even know!
This begins a collective effort by the more clear-minded people of Gotham to NOT disclose anything JJ related. There has to be a reason, right? No way were they going to force Robin #3 to disclose anything he didn’t wait to. It didn’t hurt that a year or two later, a mysterious figure named Oracle began effectively making every news article or picture related to JJ disappear.
Everyone holds their breaths for the next few months. What if what happened to the second Robin happened to him? What if he was too crippled to go back out?
As the Batfamily grows bigger, it becomes way clearer that Robin #3 hasn’t said a WORD. Not even after they grow closer, when the screaming and murder attempts and arguments cease. He doesn’t say a word, so no one else does either.
Tim goes to great lengths to medicate himself against any variant of Joker venom or gas. The familiar smells just… bring things back to the surface.
He tries not to act like Jason whenever the Joker gets out of Arkham. It’s already hard for everyone to hold him back from killing the monster. Jason doesn’t need some second-rate copy of his trauma trying to get sympathy. Unlike Jason, he didn’t die. He didn’t come back differently, or lose footing on his life, his job, whatever.
It would just be better if Tim acted as aloof and concentrated as he always did. Not make a big scene, and follow Batman’s orders to a T. No need to worry anyone.
Honestly, the only reason no one notices the literal war going on in this boy’s head is because he doesn’t want to cause a scene.
Oh, and if you’re wondering what he says when one of the bats finds him the next night, still avoiding them…
Yeah, he full on denies EVERYTHING. Looks whoever it is, Jason, Steph, Dick, straight in the eye and says that what they saw was fake. Edited. Something to threaten Bruce with years ago. Tim just ran because…because…Anyway, he’s fine. Don’t worry about Tim Drake. He’s fine.
Babs groans over the comms when everyone hounds on her to tell them everything. Like hell is she gonna tell them a single thing until she has Tim’s full permission.
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rosellacwrites · 10 months ago
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if you want to call me baby (just go ahead now)
summary: As it turns out, the language of love is — all of them.
pairings: Steven Grant x GN!Reader
rating: general audiences
warnings: weapons grade fluff, established relationship, pet names (so many)
word count: 577
author’s note: Written for the Moon Knight Spring Bingo @moonknight-events — this is entry #4 for “Ritual.” Happy reading! ❤️
dividers by @firefly-graphics
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It had started, as do so many things between you, in bed.
“G’night, my dear,” Steven had murmured to you, pulling your back snug against his chest and burrowing his face into your neck, but you’d started to giggle.
“‘My dear?’ What are you, eighty?” you’d laughed.
“What’s wrong with that? You’re very dear to me,” he’d protested.
“And you are to me, too. You know that.” You’d twisted around, craning your neck for a kiss. “It just struck me as funny — you have to admit it has pensioner vibes.”
He’d huffed and kissed you back, and as you’d drifted into sleep you’d heard him say something along the lines of just going to have to find something tomorrow you like better, then.
You’d forgotten about it until the next evening, when he’d dropped a kiss on top of your head on the way to the kitchen and said “Do you want some popcorn, habibi?” When you’d looked up at him quizzically, he was grinning. “‘My love,’” he’d translated. “Arabic. No ‘pensioner vibes’ there, yeah?”
You’d grinned at him and said you supposed not, and the next morning you’d handed him a cup of tea and called him petit chou, and belatedly remembered that he spoke French well enough to know you’d just called him a little cabbage.
And from that point, it was on. You racked your brains for long-forgotten vocabulary words and pored over language dictionaries online, the authorized and unauthorized alike. After that first one, he refused to translate for you anymore: “go on, I want to see if you can find out for yourself,” he’d said. Most of them weren’t so hard, but he’d stumped you with nedjem, which turned out to be Ancient Egyptian (because of course it did) for sweetie.
In revenge, you’d resorted to something he couldn’t possibly spell just from hearing it. “Oh, that’s not playing fair!” he’d protested, and you were weak enough to give him a hint. Knowing where to start, and using his best attempts at phonetic spelling, he got there in the end, all the way to a chuisle mo chroí, Irish for pulse of my heart.
It became your ritual, each new name another star in your shared sky. Persian kharâbetam, I’m ruined for you, taking its place next to Brazilian Portuguese chuchuzinho, little squash, and Ojibwemowin niinimoshenh, sweetheart. You start secretly keeping a list so you don’t repeat yourself, filled with German and Russian and Igbo, liebling, solnyshko, obi’m, but your favorite so far is the Spanish media naranja, because it makes you think of you and Steven curled up together in bed, fitting into each other seamlessly like two halves of the same orange.
Some silly, some sweet, some passionate: you find yourself humbled before the infinite possibilities, marveling at just how many ways there are in the universe to tell someone that you love them.
One evening he comes up behind you while you’re making dinner, and wraps an arm around your waist, kissing you just behind your ear. He whispers your name, and something else, besides.
“Veux-tu m’épouser?”
It doesn’t sound like a pet name, with the soft, nearly tentative way he says it; it sounds like a question. Like an important question — the kind of question you’ll see written in tremulous hope all over his face and cupped gently in his other hand when you turn around to tell him in plain English yes, absolutely, a thousand times yes.
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@juneknight @spacecowboyhotch (mod tags)
(pssst today’s my birthday so I wanted to post a little supremely self-indulgent fluff)
Title from here, of course. I’m gonna make y’all listen to my old lady music if it kills me.
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wincore · 10 months ago
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indelicate | liu yangyang
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pairing: yangyang x fem!reader
synopsis: missing the last train out of new shanghai was not on the to-do list. however, your project partner liu yangyang promises fun, dazzling lights, and the warmth of a human connection for this festive weekend. perhaps even in the era of diamond and steel, the human touch means something after all.
genre: oriental cyberpunk, f2l, fluff
warning(s): swearing & several innuendos. also out-of-date jokes sorry guys i wrote this in 2021
words: 11.9k
a/n: this is just a rework of an old fic i posted here with another character! if you find any inconsistencies, it's probably because of that LOL also this is not a wincore revival but i did miss everyone on here !!
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i. city plaza
Some idiot, somewhere along in history, decided to renovate a city into something so dazzling that the population shoots up to a hundred and fifty percent of what was before, and the rest of the damage comes along with the people. Promises are made and broken to build this city of extravagance. You have the belief that the more people there are in one place, the more difficult it gets to live there. This dazzling hellscape means colliding into too many people on the streets, too many bright lights outside your dorm room when you’re trying to sleep and the god awful sound of deafening firecrackers at every new year celebration.
Another idiot somehow roped you into his ‘midnight adventure: traditional version’ once he heard you missed the last train ticket out of the city. Liu Yangyang has a terrible way with words—but he has a way.
You were, by some unfortunate gamble of the gods, partners for a project that accounted for sixty percent of the grade. While that affair is over, you still haven't rid yourself of the predicament that is Yangyang. Gorgeous, yes, but too overwhelming. You smack your head against the car window only for him to jump in his seat beside you, hand gently driving over your forehead to check for damage. The neon city lays around you, and festive light projections float across the sky in intricate shapes of the ox and written messages. This is going nowhere. You came to this city sacrificing everything and yet suddenly, everything’s hanging on a string again.
The city lights of New Shanghai are cruel. Everything in this place is cruel.
Which is exactly why you’re in Yangyang’s car, parked by the middle level city plaza on New Year’s Eve. It is, in fact, illegal to hover by the city plaza on New Year’s Eve but Yangyang seems to either not care or simply doesn’t know. You forget the law doesn’t exist for rich kids. Out of all man-made wonders, rules are the most interesting. 
“Shall we go?” he asks, voice bubbly as ever. Every morning, he chirps like the alarm birds outside your window. Yes, it has made you want to sleep forever at times.
“It’s just one night. And I’ll be with you, so you don’t have to be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” you snap. 
“Not afraid of the dark either?”
You pull your jacket closer to you. Here, the cold streets of the techno-jungle make you shiver more often than not. If you dare go out without friends, a city so grand will inevitably drain the life out of you. Your body alone cannot withstand the dazzle. And—you can’t be afraid of the dark after you’ve complained about the lights.
You look at Yangyang and back to the cityscape outside—large conglomerative blocks of buildings, some hosting advertisements with the faces of inhumanly beautiful models and some with the ‘Happy New Year!’ text animation floating about in increasingly complex patterns. You see the revolving top of one of the grandest skyscrapers, a Dior hotel, not the tallest but certainly the most pleasing to look at. It gleams from red to orange like the pulsating heart of a giant metropolitan beast. There are more funky buildings to look at, some not even the shape of austere corporate skyscrapers.
“Do you wanna go there?” Yangyang asks all of a sudden. “I heard the lounge is closed off from eleven. I can call some friends and we can book a room though—”
“No. No way. I’m not going to spend new year’s eve in a Dior suite.”
He grins. “Thank god. It’s so boring there. Only models and businessmen and whatever freak shit they do.”
You sigh. Liu Yangyang is a whole story in itself. He’s rich and popular—a dream of many—but so few are as welcoming as he is. When you’re in that position, you’re bound to have a little metal seep into your heart. Some hidden part of you, however, tells you to loosen up when you’re with him; just let it go and have a good time. There’s no reason why you shouldn't. The economy is on a steep incline, the people are happy and no other city compares to this place. You could learn a thing or two from Yangyang.
He looks at you questioningly, eyes waiting and the curve of his lips still. You notice his platinum blond hair is more styled than usual, you can almost smell the gel on it, and for a moment, you wish you looked as good as he does. A dark leather jacket accentuates his shoulders, the plain T-shirt underneath not of the flashy type. He looks like he’s ready for club-hopping and you, anything but. If you knew earlier that you’d be by the Strip around midnight on New Year’s, you'd have dressed better. 
“If you stay any longer in my car, people are going to assume we’re…y’know,” he states, quirking his eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal, though. Like, who thought fu—”
You were wrong. There is absolutely nothing to learn from Liu Yangyang. 
“I would get out of this car immediately and fall to my death before I let that happen,” you retort, crossing your arms.
“No, hey. What an inauspicious sentence. Besides, and I’m not bragging but you should know I’m really good at using my assets—”
“Don’t say a word.”
The heat of embarrassment flows into your cheeks at his implication. You look out the window, weighing out the pros and cons. The scenery is so bright that sometimes it hurts to look outside. It’s not midnight yet but the main streets are already getting crowded for the processions; the sound of laughter and conversation ring in the air. It makes you somewhat sad to not be home for this. But as they say, living in a big city can only be done if you sell your soul to it.
You’re directly above the level one city plaza, the people below looking unsettling in the way they’re so small and far away—they don’t even seem human at this distance. You wonder if you look like that to the people above this, to the level three elites who sit on top of the whole city..
You look back to your companion, who’s transfixed on the bakery across the road—either that, or just really, really zoned out. Knowing Yangyang, it could be either. When you tilt your head, waiting, you find that he has pretty features—a shaped nose and round, curious eyes, all in perfect alignment with plump, pink lips. His metallic ring earrings shine when the light hits them right. No wonder you get girls asking how close the two of you are often. Even in a world pushing manufactured love, boys like him make others daydream. You wonder why you’re the one he loves to drag in with him.
Yangyang flinches when he finds you staring at him. You clear your throat, looking away and hoping you can sweep this under the rug.
“Are you- are you by any chance mad at me?” he asks, a nervous smile awkwardly tugging at his lips.
“I- what? No. I’m not mad at you.”
“You look like my mother when I don’t clean my room. Or Ten's cats when I try to kiss them.”
A tiny laugh escapes you before you get back your poised demeanor. “I’m- I’m not mad at you.”
He smiles at you wordlessly and you feel a little conscious. You glance outside when the plaza music starts to get loud and look back at him, debating whether you should just give in.
“So… you’ll let me brighten your life now?” he asks in his regular baritone, grinning wider. “The semester’s over and it’s festival time! I bring good luck, I promise.”
Liu Yangyang is not a happy serendipity. He simply cannot be. However, he does make you laugh more often than you’d admit.
“Whatever. Go ahead. I just don’t want to be hungover on a Friday.”
“You don’t- you don’t have to drink to have a good time.” He laughs. “I would know. I’m sort of a lightweight. I don’t know why I told you that. I’m supposed to be cool.”
You giggle, taking a moment to think.
“Fine then. Show me your magical access key to our beloved Mobius Strip, the mightiest, grandest structure in all of New Shanghai.”
“Well, if you put it that way… I am pretty cool, huh?”
His smile is too harmless for you to roll your eyes. He’s too gentle, you realize all of sudden, to be as awful as all the uni frat boys you’ve had the misfortune of talking to. You watch him as he drives; his arm moves with ease and he tries to make conversation but you can only hum and respond in singular words. The closer you are to the Strip the more nervous you get. It’s like visiting all those dark places that your mother explicitly warned you not to visit as a teenager—but you’re an adult now. No one owns you. No one should be able to own you. The determination builds up slowly over neon lights and hazy street shops.
Nights here are the fun part. Everyone says that. Other than the fact that you can barely make out the colour of the sky under the vivid city lights, there’s something very enticing about the streets, the upper streets that wind around the city.
Yangyang drives the car to a level three street, the behemoth structure of the Strip now so close that all you can see beyond your window are its placid, white walls stretching out to infinity. You can see little gardens and shops, peeking out from between each strip and one of the shopkeepers wave at you the moment you pass. Yangyang says something along the lines of “thanks for the free noodles” to the woman, before gliding higher. 
“Grandma makes the best glass noodles here,” he says, excitedly. “I’ll take you sometime. If you like.”
You hum, noting the joy he expresses at the idea of something so simple. 
Level three streets are already thousand and a half feet above the ground. You try not to look down; heights aren’t something you’re very fond of even if you love the sky. You note construction work for street levels four and five, shivering at the idea. The winds of change are fucking cold.
Yangyang swerves the car off-road at one point and you clutch his arm by reflex.
“What the fuck? Don’t do that without warning me,” you say, breathing quicker. You do not do well with: sudden movement, jumpscares and boys with pretty smiles.
“Sorry,” he says, looking at you with concern. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You let go of his arm, more embarrassed at yourself than mad at him. Driving the car closer to the Strip, he brakes carefully by the parking lot. The walls are covered in red wallpaper, a few lanterns attached to drones, floating along the path inside. It looks like a rooftop parking lot, though the mysterious dim lighting makes you walk closer to Yangyang.
“I heard this is gonna be a really cool event—they’ve got the latest AI tech hosting and crap but let me tell you the best part.”
He pauses for dramatic effect. 
“The food!” He says, spreading his arms and grinning. “The food at private events is the best thing you’ll ever taste.”
You open your mouth but close it again in part horror, part confusion. “You’re… taking me to a private event?”
“Ah, don’t look like that. It’s really fun, promise.”
“I’m not even dressed for it,” you blurt, embarrassed.
Yangyang shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. It’s for rich kids, you know? If I’m being honest, none of them know how to dress.”
His confident statement gets a giggle out of you and you relax a little. You walk with him, further into the square platform and away from the cars. The sky disappears behind the dark roof and for a moment, you feel like you’ve entered a different dimension. It’s like the architecture models that your professors had on display for the Shanghai History class in your freshman year. Old stuff, that is. Before this place even had the first skyscraper.
You turn to your side and narrow your eyes at Yangyang, suddenly wondering how he finagled his way into bringing you here. Your iron-clad will is not so much iron after all. It’s not even steel, you think, once you catch yourself staring at Yangyang a bit too long.
You step forward to find the entrance to the club; it’s a little lonely to look at in the beginning. Then it clicks that it’s probably the back door. The red pillars encase a black door between them, the overhang of the gateway just a little above Yangyang’s head. You can see the hip-and-gable style roof of the larger building behind, looking like a skyscraper instead of the usual historical buildings you’ve seen on the internet. In glowing red letters, it displays a blinking ‘Club 2’ near the top of the door.
The moment you step on the stairs, a bunch of advertisements pop up on the door, bright bubblegum colours hurting your eyes. Yangyang taps at the little x at the corner of the display till it disappears and finally the door is a regular door. The colour is jet black like any other screening platform. 
“I thought the rich were exempted from ads,” you say.
“They’re… more likely to buy things though.”
You make an ‘ah’ sound in contemplation when a whirring makes you jump into him. A little spherical drone flies its way out of an opening in the wall and stops right in front of the two of you. 
“Sicheng-ge!” Yangyang says, waving frantically at the camera.
The little drone circles around Yangyang’s head before stopping right in front of his face. It runs a scan before turning sharply and beeping at you. 
“My plus one!” Yangyang declares, pulling you by the waist. “Or whatever it’s called.”
Your ears feel warm but you don’t push him off. The camera focuses on your face, likely scanning to identify your age and occupation. When it’s done, a beep resounds and the door slides open to reveal a dimly lit pathway. The main entrance is much brighter, Yangyang promises, but for now it’s just the warm glow of the lanterns, Yangyang’s neon red striped jacket and the mechanical whirring of some sort of device in the darkness.
“What’s that sound?” you whisper and Yangyang stops. 
He pauses to think. “Oh, they’re Sicheng-ge’s drones. He’s got like a million of them. I'll introduce you—he’s hosting this club event, by the way.”
He smiles at you reassuringly. If Yangyang’s not bothered by it, you’ll follow his lead. Though, you do take more nimble steps and stay close to him like he’s your lighthouse. (In a way, he is, with all that neon shining on his jacket.)
You’re surprised to find a garden, but then it gets stranger when you see brighter lanterns in the middle area. You see figures and before you can react, Yangyang takes your hand and into the central platform.
ii. orchid club square
Yangyang was right. None of them know how to dress.
The two of you stand in the middle of a crowd, who are in fact dressed either for: a) an impromptu pool party or b) a Sunday morning lecture. You blend in somewhat well given the variety though Yangyang’s painted looks have attracted the attention of quite a few giggling, murmuring onlookers.
You clench your jaw in mild annoyance. 
“This is a tour,” Yangyang whispers to you. “I thought… you’d like to know what everything’s about.”
You feel grateful to him for once. Having some sort of knowledge about what you’re getting into makes you feel better about any situation. A set of mechanical clicking fills the air.
A woman—no, an AI bot is the first to greet you. She has pale white metallic skin and her dark strands of hair are in a traditional updo. Her lips are imperial red, shaped in a way that makes her seem as though she’s smiling but also not at the very same time. She holds an extravagant fan by her face at the perfect right angle, the patterns on it painted to imitate an ancient cherry blossom tree. 
“Good evening, everyone,” she says, her voice pitched up and enthusiastic. It’s a little funny to imagine metal so lively.
You smell oranges and lavender as soon as she flicks her fan once and precise. 
“Welcome to the New Shanghai nightlife!” The bot continues jovially. “The oldest surviving city on planet earth, the birthplace of the human race.”
“You are in virtual space,” she informs. “It might look like a courtyard stretching to infinity but it is only an illusion. However, the club is five hundred and sixty one metres wide and six hundred and twelve metres long. It is large enough to hold twenty-one blue whales in a line. That is, if they still existed of course.”
She giggles algorithmically.
“Where you stand right now,” she says, turning her head in a swift mechanical motion to you and you flinch. “This place is called the orchid club square. As you know, only VIP access lets you in.”
You glance at Yangyang worriedly and he shrugs. There’s no way she could know, right? That was oddly specific. But then she moves her head left to right to address the whole crowd in perfect grace. When her movement starts to get a little too eerie to watch any longer, you fix your eyes on the garden instead. You have no way of telling part real flowers from virtual ones and even so—all of them are beautiful. Maybe reality doesn’t make things any prettier.
However, when you look at Yangyang, the thought gets tossed out. You shake your head, in an attempt to get rid of the image of his face. It’s a little too late to be feeling this way. Either that, or the night is taking its toll on you already. The day was exhausting, considering it was the end of the semester.
The AI guide’s chatter fades into something quieter when you move the club square. It’s a rather empty space, fitting for a rave or just housing large crowds. The decorations are for the new year celebrations, banners of the ox in auspicious colours and a few drones projecting the rest. There’s a garden of evermore orchids lining the area in a perfect square and it’s so precise that it’s pleasing to look at. There’s a door at one edge, similar to the one you encountered before entering the club square.
The music that wafts through the air is so gentle, you almost forget there’s a celebration. The beat makes it livelier and even so, the rhythm of your heartbeat matches it in a soothing sort of way. Turning around, you spot the musical ensemble. It’s another AI, peering over a guqin with trained habit.
She looks the same, except she wears an electronic mask over the lower half of her face. It displays a blue musical note made up of noticeable pixels. She has no fan—instead, her fingers strum the guqin rhythmically, programmed with precision and grace. The sound is accompanied by the woodwind notes of a flute, though you’re not sure where that sound emanates from. There’s also a soft drumbeat which seems to come from the guqin bot herself.
You gasp when a few painted goldfish float through the air, almost real to look at if it weren’t for the glitch effect of holograms. One of them swims closer to you, opening and closing its mouth in rhythm and you giggle at its face.
Yangyang laughs, long finger pointing at the critter in amusement. “That’s adorable.”
He looks like a little kid and you giggle at his expression, with wide, delighted eyes and mouth open in focused mirth. He pokes at the goldfish and it makes a bubbling sound, gears shifting in ticking time before suddenly biting at his index finger. Yangyang lets out a low yelp, retracting his hand before clearing his throat in embarrassment.
“You’re like a cartoon,” you tell him, in between laughs. “No way are you real.”
He grins, in that same way he always looks at you and you look away, feeling hot in the face. It’s too enamored a way to look at someone. But of course, that couldn’t be true—he’s Liu Yangyang and you’re you. Parallel lines do not meet, even if they’re headed in the same direction.
“I think you’re unreal,” he mumbles.
iii. club 2
The doors open to a rather spacious arrangement, with several tables one one side and a sort of dance arena on the other where people are trying to out-dance each other. The intensity makes you move further away from it. It seems a little too festive and you can feel the energy slinking away from you. The music is more upbeat but you suppose the DJ tried to make it sound more eastern; the result is pleasing. He wears a smooth black helmet with a neon red beat visualizer on it, with written SFX appearing from time to time. Two pulsing golden horns glow at the sides of his head. You stare at it for longer than you’d like before composing yourself. You’re very impressionable when it comes to parties. 
There are two floors to the club, above the bottom floor itself. The other two floors mostly seem to consist of private booths, however, covered with gossamer silk that glow iridescent. A few floating lanterns sway by the upper floors. The ceiling is open to a midnight blue sky and the stars look much larger than you’ve ever seen them—you suspect it’s an AR mesh over the ceiling. A few light shows project little dancing dragons and coins over the sky and you find them too cute to not stare at.
“Wow,” Yangyang says, right after walking in. “Why is Dejun on the table?”
You look where his eyes are focused on, though it’s difficult through the crowd of people, and find Dejun and Kunhang in some sort of old anime transformation pose atop one of the tables. It’s surprising that they’re not the weirdest pair here. 
“Now, bear with me, it’s going to be boring as hell till the countdown and the fireworks,” he explains, waving his hands around. “But it’s a good place to have fun and make friends. You know?”
“Friends?” you ask, a little nervous. You’re not very proficient at making friends and it makes you anxious.
“Yeah! Don’t worry. ” He makes a strange gesture, bordering between posing for a beer ad campaign and looking like a motivational speaker for the army, before furrowing his eyebrows. “You just have to be confident! I’m learning too!”
He lets out a sweet laugh and it makes you laugh in turn, hand covering your mouth so you don’t embarrass yourself too much. You don’t believe the words much, but the glow over his cheeks makes you reconsider.
“You look really nice when you laugh,” he comments, a bright glint in his eyes.
“Whatever,” you reply, punching his shoulder lightly.
Just then, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder to find Lana from your ethical AI class, smiling at you warmly. She looks a little tired, of people more than the time. Like you, she is also a scholarship student—and not a day has gone when she hasn’t soothed your anxiety about your classes. In stark contrast with Yangyang, you would trust her over him for most tasks. Even if you weren’t partners, you’re okay with the outcome. You glance at Yangyang.
“(name)! Oh my god, I didn’t know you were coming here,” she says. “Did Yangyang kidnap you?” 
“I mean, sort of.”
“Hey.” Yangyang looks at you with betrayal.
“And how did you even manage to do that cool ass project with him as your partner?” she continues, squinting at him.
“Honestly, I don’t know either. He can be surprisingly helpful though.”
Yangyang looks from Lana to you in exasperation. “I’m literally right here,” he grumbles. 
Lana laughs at his expression, patting his shoulder sympathetically. 
“I just can’t believe you let him kidnap you and not me,” she says in mock indignance. “I’m a much better chauffeur, you know?”
“Do you even have a driving license?” Yangyang asks, laughing.
“I got mine before you, rat. Anyway, (name), I’m playing the guzheng. Do you wanna come see?”
“No,” Yangyang interrupts, suddenly grabbing your hand. “I… I mean you guys can go, of course. It's just the countdown’s close, so we have to go to the viewpoint.”
“That’s exactly where—ah. I see.”
"We'll join you another time, Lana," he says quietly, a cute grin on his face like a little boy would make to an older sister for more shares of chocolate. 
"No, no. I actually remembered I left my friends in the corner. See you!"
She leaves her epiphany unsaid, offering you a smile and taking her leave abruptly.
“I thought you told me to socialize,” you complain to Yangyang. 
“Yes, I’m so proud of you for that.”
“Yangyang, I swear if you treat me like a kid—”
“I’m not, I’m not. Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “I just need to borrow you for tonight. After all, I promised you, didn’t I?”
You sigh. “Fine then, what’s this viewpoint you’re talking about?”
“Oh, we’ll get there.”
Someone’s watching you. You turn around a full three-sixty but find only the same crowd of college-age kids. No one sticks out much, apart from Dejun, Kunhang and Ten, who are at this point performing some sort of strange ritual unbeknownst to any new year tradition, with a hell load of yelling.
“Oh my god, you’re dancing too?” Yangyang says, grinning ear to ear. “I didn’t know I’d have that much of a positive influence. Wow.”
“I’m- I’m not- never mind.”
Yangyang furrows his eyebrows. “What did I tell you? More confidence! See—”
He takes your hands in his, pulling you further onto the dance floor. You feel a rising panic but swallow it. There’s a beat of silence in which the two of you look at each other. Yangyang proceeds to perform the stupidest sequence of movements you have ever seen, certainly too awkward for his body to accept as natural but it doesn’t seem like he cares. He’s having fun.
You find yourself laughing. Taking timid steps, you try to loosen up although the inevitable embarrassment arrives in flushes of heat across your face. There are stars in Yangyang’s eyes when you join him—not the artificial jewels in observatories but the real kind that you used to see in your hometown.
You take a wobbly step back. It’s starting to get disorienting. If it were the real sky above you, you might even have felt better. Perhaps the purpose is to get dizzy.
“I’m a little thirsty,” Yangyang says, motioning to the table with food and drinks at a corner. “I’ll head over and be back.”
Unsure what to do, you follow him like a lost lamb and though it would be embarrassing at any other time, any other place, now and here are not part of that.
The red and golden lights of the neon patterning the walls don’t seem as harsh anymore and you let your eyes rest on the boyish figure of Yangyang. You haven’t figured him out yet. Something tells you he’s more than a shallow image of the party-loving rich kids of Shanghai. In fact, in quiet, personal moments, he looks more out of place than you do—despite all that bright neon. You open your mouth to ask something when you’re interrupted by a dizzy Yangyang spinning into you. 
“Sorry, (name),” he says, rubbing the base of his palm against his forehead. “I genuinely thought I was going to win that game.”
You shake your head, letting him get back to whatever spinning game they were at. He smells like wine and something tells you he’s poor at holding his liquor. The stakes must be high for that game, you figure, because you see Yangyang set aside his beloved shoe on the floor. To be the only scholarship student here suddenly feels scary and awkward.
Yangyang once again tugs at your arm, the touch reassuring as though he understands how you feel. But it isn’t true. There’s no way someone like him can understand someone like you.
“Yangyang,” you call. “Do you come here every year?”
“No, no. I do come for drinks though. I’m only here right now because a friend is hosting this.”
You shrug.
“And you,” he adds and you feel a hot flush rise to your face. “New years are the only time this place is PG-13.”
“I’m not a child,” you snap.
“My mom says childish people say that.”
“Then it's very rich coming from you, Liu Yangyang.”
He laughs heartily, leaning away. A creeping thought grows in your head that you missed out on a lot. But then again, you’ll always miss out on things if you’re not rich enough for them.
Yangyang flinches suddenly, almost knocking a plate off the table. He moves quickly, turning so that his side leans against the wall and the other arm cages you between him and the wall. His frame covers your view from whatever, or whoever arrived at the entrance that made him react so obnoxiously.
However, his lips hovering just a little over yours makes your breath hitch in your throat. This is the worst possible position you could've gotten into. The smell of mint interrupts your thoughts and you look at him with as annoyed an expression as you can muster over the heat of your face.
"Yangyang, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"
“I am… admiring the wall. Ooh, it’s got velvet over it, did you notice?”
 “You’re going to have your head in it too if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
"Just… sorry. Let’s stay like this for a few moments."
He flashes you an apologetic smile, his face close enough to make yours grow even hotter. A nervous chuckle erupts from his lips. 
"Oh my god, get off. People are going to think we’re making out."
"We could do it for real." 
"I'm going to scratch your eyes out."
"Sorry, sorry."
“Who are you even hiding from?”
“I’m not hiding… okay, forget that. Bodyguard-watcher-dude. It’s kind of hard to explain.”
“You have a bodyguard?”
“More like a babysitter.”
You try not to laugh, considering the proximity between your faces. “How come you have a babysitter? Actually, wait, I think I know.”
He huffs over your face and you restrain yourself from landing a swift uppercut to his jaw. Now you know the minty smell comes from mouth freshener.
“He’s a prosecutor. It’s weird that he stalks me in his free time. Even- even if… my parents are paying him.”
“They think you’re doing something illegal?”
“No. I don’t think I am.”
You rest your head back against the wall, rolling your eyes. “Really? That’s your answer? God, your brain cells rotted somewhere along the way, didn’t they? It’s all those parties.”
“I’m starting to feel like my mom hired you too.”
He looks back, and noting the absence of his so-called babysitter, he pulls back from you. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath and you let it out in a shallow effort.
“Your babysitter’s gone?”
“Not a babysit—I regret saying that. Look, I really don’t think they appointed him because they think I’m doing something illegal. I have never done anything illegal. Except that one street race but that’s because Lucas told me it was perfectly legal.”
“The what?”
“Anyway, the point is, let’s look forward to good fortune for this year, hm? Leave all the burdens to last year.”
“Fortune doesn’t favour fools.”
“I’m not stupid,” he complains, spreading his arms to express it further. “Mostly.”
 You laugh, turning your attention to  the food table.
“Ooh, pineapple tarts,” he exclaims, hand reaching out to grab one when you smack it.
“You’ve had, like, fifteen already.”
“Mhm,” he says, with a few more stuffed in his mouth.
There’s a pause.
“It’s me, isn't it?” you ask quietly. “I’m not supposed to be here.”
He gulps, lips parting and closing. “I brought you here. So you don’t worry about it.”
Rich people suck. You believe that strongly. But sometimes, just sometimes, when you have everything you can ever want, you start to want the same for everyone around you. Some people are special. You find Yangyang genuinely fascinating for being someone who makes friends when he’s supposed to be making more connections. You find him fascinating. 
It makes sense for someone like him to be the way he is.
iv. fireworks viewpoint
“That’s the old Shanghai Tower,” Yangyang points to a building in the distance. “It used to be the tallest building once but… well, it looks like the little guy now.”
Lunar New Year’s celebrations are a big, big deal in New Shanghai. It means a break from university, work and every other affair to have as many priorities sorted in anticipation of the new year. And the impact is evident from this height, when you can see the city in its golden glory. It looks warm out there for once—although you’re not very sure if it’s because of the warmth that comes from right beside you. The little wooden boats float by on the river a little far off, various images blooming as holograms above them. You giggle at the large animated fishes swimming above the river with blank expressions and painted button eyes. 
The golden clock shines bright in the sky, its holographic hands ticking down to midnight. It looks like something out of a fantasy movie, scattering golden pixels everywhere with each minute passing. The size of it alone reminds you of the scale of this city.
This is an empire. It's owned by the kings and queens who built it over the bones left from sacrifices. It's going to be owned by heirs and heiresses. You feel a looming sense of dread come over you. It's so beautiful and it can never belong to itself. It must always belong to someone. It’s the terms and conditions of human creation.
"Hey." Yangyang taps you on the shoulder and you try not to flinch. "What are you thinking?"
You hum. "Stuff."
"This place is pretty cool, huh?"
That, you can agree with. "It is. It's so amazing that I can't believe I'm here sometimes."
Yangyang laughs slowly. "I hope more people can live here. Not in level one. You know. No one should live in desperation."
You hold back a scoff, though you end up frowning. What does a rich kid know of desperation? He might as well be prince, and princes do not know how to beg. It must be something of a saviour complex. You shrink away from him. The new year music is starting to ring a little too loud in your ears.
"That would be difficult," you mutter.
"Not if you lower the cost of living conditions—ah. Sorry." He pauses and you feel a flicker of surprise in you. “It’s not appropriate to discuss. Or so my parents tell me…”
The expression comes from empathy. You’re sure of it. There’s some sort of passion and not the kind of coloured fire that flames up in parties, but a different one. The kind that says, if you can’t bear the heat then you can’t learn how to forge. You scoff. Which prince has possibly known heat?
“I- I get angry too,” you say quietly. “I think it’s something to be angry about.”
He smiles at you, leaning against the balcony railing. 
You’re interrupted by a man in the attire of a waiter and it causes the two of you to jump away from each other. It’s not like you were very close in the first place but the proximity of shared words can play tricks on people. The man offers the two of you a screen and Yangyang’s face lights up almost immediately.
“We can order food with this,” he says. “Or book a table. The top strips are all reserved for members of the club. That’s the big daddy restaurants.”
“That’s… pretty cool,” you say, leaning in to glance over the browsing menu. “But don’t say that phrase to me again.”
“I can. And I will.”
“Ugh. Move on.”
“Okay, so we should drop by the convenience store for some ramen. I heard they taste better in the middle of the night,” Yangyang suggests all of a sudden, leaning in further.
It gets difficult sometimes to not be bothered by him, especially when there is a lack of distance. You look at him, pause and then sigh. “Sure. I guess. Are those free too?”
He opens his mouth in sudden realization and grins sheepishly at you. You roll your eyes.
“Do you have money then?”
“Uh.”
“How do you not have money? It’s the New Year!”
“I… uh—”
“Okay, you don’t have to answer that. But I’m not paying for you,” you complain. “You could always ask your parents for some money. What’s the point of being a party kid?”
‘Party kids’—it makes you laugh in amusement—is the colloquial term given to the children of businesspeople who had a direct hand in the economic progress of New Shanghai. You would sell your kidneys to be one and it still wouldn’t be enough.
His smile wavers at your statement but he shakes his head. “If I call my mom, she’ll start scolding me again about how my apartment room needs to be cleaner. Blah, blah, blah. You know.”
“She’s right- wait, you don’t clean your room?”
“Don’t take her side, (name).” 
You bite down a smile and he offers you his biggest one. 
“Oh, that place looks new,” Yangyang exclaims, a long index finger pointing to the preview of a sushi restaurant. You glare at him, his face nearer to yours than you would prefer but his eyes are fixed like a child ogling halloween candy.
“Let’s go,” he urges, looking directly at you. 
You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head vehemently. “We don’t have money. Or bit-credits.”
He sighs, deflating as though you just snatched the candy right from his hands. “But… I haven’t been there before.”
“So?” You exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You don’t have to try every food place in the city.”
“I need to eat,” he says as though it’s a very reasonable response. “I’m still growing!”
“Not mentally.”
He drops his smile, looking at you blankly. “You don’t have to get so smart with me, let me tell you.”
You snicker at the ‘offended’ expression on his face.
In the next moment, your attention shifts to the sudden crowd of people rushing to the balcony. Yangyang pulls you closer to avoid getting pushed by them, and you look around confused. It all makes sense when they start chanting the numbers, counting down from ten. You can only stare in awe at the clock and the otherworldly glee in the rhythmic chants. It’s like they don’t feel anything but joy at this moment. You let yourself smile.
The clock strikes twelve. The sound of the bell resounds throughout the city and the firecrackers burst into a thousand shades of red and gold across the sky. There’s moving images of animals, floating text and other animations which make the night sky seem like a screen. The sparks of the fireworks look like golden snow, or even happy little pixels.
You point your finger to the sky excitedly but when you turn, Yangyang’s eyes aren’t on the sky but on your hand outstretched towards it. He faces you, rather hesitantly as though caught red-handed.
“You’re- you’re… so pretty,” he says, softly and shrugging as if answering a question.
You wish he wouldn’t look at you like that. It’s the lonely speaking, right? The euphoria of human connection in this time and age—it can make you believe anything. There’s a myriad of colours blooming in the sky behind you, a city dazzling with diamond and ruby lights, people with much more stories to tell than you do. This city, this city, this city. This city will break your heart. 
“It’s kind of crappy,” you mutter, to which Yangyang quirks an ear.
“Wh-what is?”
“This city. It’s got bright lights and fun and all those promises of success. But all I see are people desperately trying to survive. All I see are the same faces at the top and—I’m sorry. I’m getting carried away.”
“No, no.” He makes a vague gesture. “I’m listening.”
“We’re at their mercy,” you whisper. “My life is not my own. That’s crappy.”
Yangyang hums in response. “You're right. What’s the point of living a life that’s not your own?”
Looking at him again, you see the entire figure of his being against the fireworks and all the beautiful creations of the human race. His almost silver hair falls perfectly by his forehead, the contact lenses looking like glazed frost over his eyes. Just as vibrant and excessive as the city itself, Yangyang belongs here. This is his kingdom. 
No, that’s not quite right perhaps. Yangyang belongs anywhere because he brings warmth. You're suddenly grateful he's with you because no one you know would possibly go out of their way to make you feel comfortable like this. You know Yangyang loves people and crowds. No one would do that for you at the expense of their own enjoyment. You smile at the prospect of solving the blinding mystery that he is.
"We… should leave," Yangyang says, all of a sudden. He eyes a man at the corner of the balcony, dressed in a business suit and looking blank. He sticks out like a sore thumb. You're not sure why he's in that getup.
"Okay," you say, not sure why you're so agreeable tonight.
Maybe it's the night. Sometimes all you can do is drag your feet over the asphalt and hope it'll be sunnier tomorrow.
v. two-four-seven convenience store
College boys are the most god-awful creatures on earth.
“Hey, do you always reach class on time?” Yangyang asks, eyes curious. He keeps asking a question every five minutes or so, trying to keep up conversation. You've already told him he doesn't have to. However, it makes you strangely comfortable to hear the sound of his voice periodically. You won't tell him that.
You nod, returning your gaze to the window, though the advertisements block your view. You can always try skipping the ad every five goddamn seconds. 
It's your first time riding the train that travels through the Mobius Strip, and certainly the first time in a luxury cabin. Since it’s free for members of the new year club, you can heave a sigh of relief. You will never in your life, even if it’s genetically elongated, ever be able to afford a luxury cabin.
"Oh, that looks so good," Yangyang says, large hand smacking against the window to get rid of the colourful advertisements. 
"It's a convenience store, Yangyang," you say. "It's got everyday ramen."
"No, look. It's a different brand. And they're giving a burger for free with two ramen cups!"
You furrow your eyebrows at him. "Well, I guess it's cheaper too."
"Oh, we can go to one of the upper restaurants too. They're free, remember?"
"I like convenience stores," you mumble. There's something about the lack of even lighting and crowds that made them a comfort spot for you.
“Quick,” he says, pulling you off the seat when the train stops.
“Yangyang!” you warn. He's so easily excitable that you find it hard to believe he's real sometimes.
However, when he turns around with his big puppy-dog eyes, you curse at yourself before you curse at him. Sighing, you follow him down the steps, his hand tenderly holding yours. Sometimes, you wonder if the human touch means anything at all in this diamond and steel era. Yangyang’s palm is warm against yours.
The ramen tastes awfully delicious on stolen time, and you would complain more if it weren’t for Yangyang looking at you with so serene a look. It annoys you and you try to grab his attention by waving your chopsticks in front of him. When it doesn’t work, you resort to swearing. You’ve never seen anyone respond with a smiling hum after being told to “eat shit”.
“Oh, this tastes so good,” he states, cheeks puffed with food. “I think I’m going to cry.”
“I- I think you’re crying because it’s spicy.”
“Oh.”
As usual, Yangyang pokes and prods at you with questions about your daily life, like you’re the most interesting thing in a city full of blinding lights, world-class robots and cyber-enhanced technology. You don’t understand how he doesn’t just grow tired of asking every single detail about you.
Apart from the fact that Liu Yangyang is most certainly an environmental hazard, some part of you cannot believe that he's truly terrible. There's something innocent about him, but all at once, something quiet and mysterious. 
“Why are you always so curious, Yangyang?” you ask finally. “Why are you always running off to different places?”
“Because experiences never come twice,” he answers after some thinking. It seems to be a little difficult for him to articulate, deep contemplation over his features when he continues. “This city… all the lights and clubs and arenas, all of it will be gone someday. Like we don’t have telephones or those big computers anymore.”
You rest your chin on your palm, leaning in.
“This moment, right here with you… I’ll never experience it again,” he tells you. “We can have more midnight convenience store ramen sometime later but… each time will be different. I’d rather live now.”
You smile softly. “That’s a funny thought to live by.”
“Yours isn’t any better,” he says, patting your head. “Also, I’m like hot and young and popular and not a cyborg—how can I miss parties?”
You shake your head, laughing. He’s ridiculous. He’s completely ridiculous. In that moment, when you look at him, Yangyang seems to be smiling in a daze, eyes on your face.
“You look nice when you smile,” he says quietly.
"Thanks," you respond. "I should keep it a secret then, huh?"
"Not from me," he says, smiling. 
Somehow, the extra minutes you have at the convenience store turn to a few multiplayer games and then, ditching technology, to an arm wrestling match.
"I feel like this game is kind of unfair," you say after losing almost immediately. He's clearly got stronger muscles. Does he work out? Probably against his will, you bet.
“My right arm’s a lot stronger than my left arm,” he says, before looking a little horrified. “That wasn’t a masturbation joke, by the way. I am so sorry.”
You roll your eyes. "Give me your left hand then- wait. You're right-handed?"
"That's not the- uh." He thinks for a moment, trying to gather words. “That’s not the reason.”
“I, uh, I heavily damaged this arm when I was a kid—don’t look like that, there’s a fun part to this. It’s made of titanium! And some other things. The names are too complicated.”
You drive your fingers over the arm, so warm and real and flushed red, anything but metal and code. You find curiosity blooming in you more than ever before.
“You know why I’m not with family,” you say, straightening. “But why aren’t you celebrating with your family?” 
He gets quiet, thinking to himself for a few more moments. You almost regret asking when he answers, a hesitant sound leaving him first.
“None of us, uh… none of our parents can spare more than three hours. They’ll come in the afternoon tomorr—today.”
You can’t exactly respond to that very well.
“So all of us go hang out at the New Year’s Club.”
You frown. "But it's not a celebration without family!"
"We have new year lunches. And… it's the future. Traditions die. Very few grieve them for fear of being stuck in the past."
You feel partly horrified and partly dismal. "I… You could come with me next year, if you like."
You're not sure where the offer comes from but Yangyang lights up at the idea.
"I can? Oh, we'll have so much fun!"
"Slow down. There's a year to go."
Yangyang laughs. It's surprising the way he turned out. He must have gotten tired of waiting by the door. And now you know all the things about him that his parents don’t.
You smile at him, warming up to the idea of you and him as friends before scoffing at it again.
Right in the next moment, Yangyang dips suddenly to the ground, crouching below the table. You look around in surprise and fall to your knees with a yelp at the tug on our wrist from Yangyang.
“What the hell?” you hiss. “You’re starting to act really weird.”
“I- Sorry. It’s an emergency,” he says, but there’s no sign of distress in his voice. He simply smiles at you. Perhaps he’s never heard of the emotion as of yet.
“Your babysitter?”
“I say that once and on accident—yes, it’s my babysitter.”
You chuckle. He’s simply too cute at times. 
“We have to be discreet now, okay? It’s like—what’s the movie called? Oh, Mission Impossible.”
“I’ve never seen that.”
“What? How can you not? It’s a classic! It’s got so many cool—ah, I’ll show you another time.”
You hum, staring at Yangyang’s facial features tense up and relax again as he scans the vicinity outside the window of the convenience store. It’s full of people, even at this hour so you can’t possibly know who’s looking at you from there.
Yangyang turns back to you. “Have you ever been to blue moon station?”
“The one with the pretty walls? No. No, I’ve never even gone beyond Strip Two.”
Yangyang smiles at you and right then, you feel like you’re about to resent whatever’s going to happen next. It’s in the ebb and flow of tonight’s itinerary, however, and you relax your shoulders just as he does a roll across the floor, looking back at you with a grin for executing it flawlessly. 
“You’re so silly,” you mutter. 
“I heard that,” he whisper-shouts back.
You’re not as afraid as before, you realize. The lights are absolutely mesmerizing.
vi. blue moon station
It drops a few degrees in temperature once you step foot onto the platform. You can see a bunch of scattered tourists, cameras hanging around their neck and a look of awe over their faces. 
Yangyang takes off his jacket, shivering immediately but offering it to you nonetheless. When you refuse, he places it gingerly over your shoulders.
"Is that a…?"
"A tourist bot, yes."
"Oh my god, it's so cute," you say, crouching by the little red robot, a teal-colored smiley face popping up on its monitor.
"A lot of tourists in this station," you note.
"Yeah. It's very… visually pleasing."
That's true. The walls are screens with three dimensional graphics, immersive enough to catch one's eye. A single tree grows through the middle of the station, evergreen and alive with holographic flora and fauna. The sun shines eternally over the tree. It's so beautiful that you had trouble taking your eyes off it at first.
The walls next to you are currently displaying a walk through a fantasy forest, crafted by a visionary artist, no doubt. A blue butterfly flies past you and you stare at it before zoning out.
Sometimes, the lights are too disorienting. You start to feel dizzy, massaging your forehead when Yangyang brushes the tips of his fingers against your shoulder.
“You good?”
Yangyang crouches beside you with watchful eyes.
You nod, turning your attention to the tourist bot. It displays a plethora of information about the architecture of this place which you're sure no tourist will bother to read beyond the first two lines. 
“You can make it do cool tricks too,” Yangyang says. “Watch.”
Yangyang pokes at it with his index finger, drawing a pattern over the screen. The bot proceeds to do an old internet dance, waving about its arms and hips. You laugh at it and Yangyang looks at you with the pride of a third grader with first place on their science project.
The colours on the walls change and you see the animation of a man and a fox, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to recall that image. They seem to be broadcasting fables through the holograms. You can’t deny that they’re pretty—glowing with auspicious colours and as animated as the real world itself. As if by compulsion, you hold Yangyang’s hand. It’s nice to feel the human touch real once in a while, especially in the overwhelming loneliness of city nights.
Yangyang looks at you brightly and right then, you feel less inclined to leave him.
“You know, I could teach you better ways to flirt than just grab my hand,” he says, grinning like an idiot.
“What?” 
You move your hand. “I’m not flirting.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he responds quickly. “Can I please have your hand back?”
You shake your head, laughing. He worries you. Some part of you says you shouldn’t be worried. It’s not like you’re close friends. (Friends, maybe. Close, not yet.)
The night has a different opinion.
“Found you,” a voice declares, and the two of you jump into each other with a scream.
The man in the suit looks at you with a fatigued look in his eyes, hair somehow still neat though he breathes like his lungs are on fire. 
“Care to tell me why you’ve been skipping my calls?” he asks after catching his breath. “It’s not like I wanted to follow you—you just needed to tell me.”
“I… I was busy?” Yangyang flashes a smile. “Kun-ge, I honestly had no idea you called. I don’t even have my phone.”
The man shakes his head. “Fine. Just head over to Jasmine for the night. And you can bring your date too.”
He gestures at you and you want to deny it as quick as you can. You do not, however. It’s almost like you’ve warmed up to the idea of it rather well.
“Okay,” Yangyang answers quietly. 
vii. jasmine private lounge
You enter a lounge with the capacity of around a hundred people. Despite that, there are hardly five present. The walls are black with neon jasmines pulsating from blue to red. A grand piano lies still in all its elegance in the middle of the lounge, played by a plain white AI. It feels like an expensive place to be, and more so, it feels like someplace you’re not supposed to step foot into. There's a bar table at one side, opposite to the entrance which glows a hypnotizing purple. A flat lettering on the wall declares the time to be 3 A.M.
You and Yangyang sit a little too close on the artificially warmed couch, waiting for Kun to return. Yangyang reassures you that you haven't done anything wrong but the illicit outing of yours certainly says otherwise. You contemplate tasting the cocktail Yangyang ordered before finally giving in and find it pleasantly warm to taste. You take another sip.
“It’s a little strong,” Yangyang warns. “Don’t have all of—you had all of it.”
You shrug. Your throat certainly feels better now. This lounge is fucking cold.
"You know, Yangyang," you say with the warmth of confidence on your face. "You're a really nice guy."
He smiles incredulously. "Thanks. You're really nice too."
"And you're pretty decent-looking—"
"I know that."
"—and also popular. So why are you always hanging around me?"
"Uh, that's your question?"
You nod. Placing your cheek against your palm, you try not to sink into the couch.
"Because you're really cool!" He answers before clearing his throat. "I mean. I think you're fun to be around. You make me see things clearer."
"And what exactly are you wanting to see clearer?'
"You."
You blink aside your astoundment, straightening. "What?"
Your question is left unanswered because a man enters and sits across the two of you, a loud huff of annoyance leaving his mouth. It's not just his disposition but the architecture of his face that grabs your attention. He looks like an AI robot so perfectly crafted with coloured lips and flawless skin that you end up staring till Yangyang elbows you.
“He’s not an AI,” Yangyang whispers.
You furrow your brows and notice it is, in fact, true that he's not an AI. There are no ridges over the joints or hollowness in the eyes. He wears the same frost-patterned smart lenses as Yangyang does. However, it doesn't change the fact that the man is beautiful to look at.
“I’m never hosting a new year party again,” he mutters, sinking into the couch.
“It actually sounds kind of fun,” Yangyang interjects. “I can’t wait for my turn.”
“I’m sorry. Good luck standing at Longhua temple for three hours till midnight just to make sure nothing goes wrong. Without dinner.”
Yangyang makes a face at that.
"That's Sicheng-ge," he says, turning to you. 
"Ah," you say in response, remembering the name vaguely. 
"He let us into Club 2," Yangyang says, noticing your lost expression.
"I think Kun's looking for you," Sicheng says, eyes trained at the back. 
His hands fidget with the dim blue buttons at the edge of the table, till a small compartment reveals itself under the glass. An old world-style cigarette is slowly pushed up and Sicheng picks it up. He offers the next one to Yangyang, who accepts it hesitantly. No one smokes tobacco anymore when nicotine is so readily available. Alas, human nature is to want things deadly and out of reach.
“So how’s Cat?” Yangyang asks, fumbling with the plasma lighter he picked from a compartment on the side.
Sicheng smiles a little, the smoke from his cigarette snaking around him as he raises a hand to dissipate it.
“She’s doing fine. Running everything as usual.”
“Of course. Boss lady.” Yangyang does an awkward salute.
“Oh, a new hair color too. As pretty as flower fields in the spring of ‘22.”
Sicheng’s lovesick rambling is interrupted by Yangyang hacking his lungs out. You turn to him and he avoids your gaze, reaching for a crystal blue  glass of water one of the helper bots offer. So, he’s not even a smoker? Why did he think you would care? 
“Anyway, Kun is glaring daggers at me now. You better get out of here.” Sicheng grimaces.
You turn around to see Kun by the bar table, gesturing towards Yangyang to come. You're not sure why but either of those men make you nervous. 
"I'll be right back," Yangyang says, scrambling up and leaving you in a long awkward silence with Sicheng.
“So, uh, I’m assuming you’re oblivious to that lovestruck puppy following you around?” Sicheng asks, raising an eyebrow. “Or is this some game you guys are into? I’m not judging you for that.”
Your face heats up and you fidget with your collar. “The- A what? Game? Uh? I- huh?”
Sicheng tries to press down his smile but it’s evident enough for you to see. Did you say something funny? Did Yangyang say something funny about you? Oh, you’re going to kill him.
“For all that he talks, he’s kind of terrible at pulling together his own love life.” 
“I- I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
It still unnerves you to look at him. He certainly looks more android than human when he’s not making any particular expression.
“Don’t mind me,” he says, offering you a reassuring smile. “You should find Yangyang before he lands the two of you in trouble.”
You turn to look at Yangyang through the glass and turn back nodding. Sicheng offers you a parting smile and you hesitantly make your way to the bar table.
"This isn't in my job description," Kun tells Yangyang just before you arrive. "I didn't know being a lawyer included babysitting."
The tips of Yangyang's ears heat up when he notices you.
"It's not babysitting," he murmurs. “Also, you’re not my mom.”
"You, Ten, Kunhang, all of you give me such a hard time," he continues but pauses right when he notices you. 
"Oh, hello. (Name), isn't it?" He says, smiling politely. He's quite young and handsome for a lawyer. "Yangyang talks about you a lot."
"Oh," you respond. "Really?"
Yangyang glares at the older man. "You don't have to say everything, Kun-ge."
"You interested in law?" Kun asks, offering you a seat between him and Yangyang.
You make a face. The law is a tool for the rich and powerful. But then again, what isn’t? The world is in your hands when you have billions to spare. However, you still can’t imagine being a rich man's guard dog your whole life.
Kun chuckles. "You kids are interested in tech more, aren't you?"
Yangyang interrupts, "You talk like you're fifty years old."
Kun grimaces, resting his face against his hand. Shooting a glare at Yangyang, he finishes the rest of his wine.
You're not exactly interested in tech or engineering or the big kid jobs either. You just want a way to survive this man-made food chain. Rich eats the world till there’s nothing left on the plate. Then again, you'd rather be a pet than get eaten.
"Anyway," Kun turns to Yangyang. "If you see Ten, give me a call."
Yangyang signals with a thumbs up gesture, watching as Kun’s figure slowly makes its way out of the gate. It’s the two of you again and suddenly, you feel a strange sort of feeling overcome you. Leaning your throbbing forehead against Yangyang’s shoulder, you take some soft breaths and skip the part where you question your actions. It’s pleasant, at the very least. He shifts his chair closer, extending his arm around you so that your head rests against his shoulder more comfortably.
“You must be tired,” he mutters.
“You didn’t answer me,” you say. “Answer in a way I understood, at least.”
“Hm?”
“Why do you hang around me?”
“Do you not… want me to?”
“No. I like your company, actually. I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
Yangyang laughs. “You’re… you’re really perfect. As a person. At least to me, you seem that way.”
You scoff. “You’re a long way off there.”
“No. No, you felt like clockwork,” he continues. “When I first met you. I couldn’t believe you were real.”
You do work like a delirious robot on clockwork steroids. But you’re not very proud of it. You don’t think overworking is a good personality trait to have—even if it’s for survival. However, the faraway look in Yangyang’s eyes suggests that’s not what he means.
“I felt like I understood you,” he continues after a short pause.
You find it unbelievable. That’s the one sentence you could never imagine coming from him to you, much less agree with. But right then, as his warmth seeps into you, you want to agree desperately.
Yangyang feels an unexpected trickle of doubt down his throat. No matter how many times he’s practised in front of the mirror, the words don’t come out right when you’re with him. With everything you do, he feels more drawn in. There’s something familiar and something honest. And if he’s honest himself, he just likes you. What sort of a hypocrite should he be categorized as, to tell his friends to ‘just confess’ to their crushes when he’s a complete idiot when it comes to you? It can’t be that little voice from his childhood that tells him to stay in order.
Yangyang understands that there are rules to this world but he doesn’t get what those have got to do with him. He sighs, the sound somewhat grim when it comes from him.
"I've seen it before," he says, "People come from all over the country with hopes and dreams, and they get their hearts broken by capitalism."
You frown.
"I don't want you to go anywhere," he mumbles. "I hope you'll stay… even if- even if you feel like that, you know? If you're feeling lonely, I could—"
"Yangyang." You smile. "I’m quite comfortable here."
When you bury your nose into the crook of his neck, Yangyang thinks this is it. This is how he ends the sorry excuse of flirting he’s been trying with you and says something he regrets. It was never this difficult with the other crushes he’s had. He’s always left opening his mouth and then promptly closing it like a goldfish out of water every single time he wants to bring up dating with you. He’s always honest. So, what’s the big deal this time? This is so horrendously not cool of him.
You straighten. “We should get back home.”
“Can you- Can you not move so far from me, please?” Yangyang murmurs, hands gripping yours.
You smile, to yourself more to him but that’s one he likes the most.
“You’re a really interesting person, Yangyang.”
“I am?” He clears his throat and repeats the question. 
“How are you so nice to people?”
“I think people are nice.”
“Why do you like parties?”
“They’re fun.”
“When the party’s over, who do you go to?” you ask, words mushing into each other.
“Home,” he answers, gulping down what seems like more words. “Like always.”
A hush falls between the two of you. You’re asking quite the questions.
“I’m sweaty,” you mutter. “I hate being sweaty.”
“You look wonderful though,” Yangyang mumbles, more to himself than to you. “Not that being sweaty makes you wonderful. You’re just nice.”
There’s another hush, the notes of the piano playing a faraway, romantic tune. He turns away and looks back at you again, but right in that moment, you lean forward to press your lips against his. It’s so sudden that he almost falls over backwards, his feet planted firmly on the ground the only thing preventing that from happening. The next thing he thinks is that your lips are on fire and it’s the most comfortable feeling he’s ever experienced. 
The two of you fit into each other like clockwork, Yangyang thinks. It’s the one thing in his life that feels whole. Not that he isn’t whole by himself—he just loves your warmth. For a moment he feels like he’s on cloud nine and the next, his heart plummets when he feels you go limp in his arms. 
It breaks his heart a little but he doesn’t—can’t bring himself to say much. He’s not this bad when he’s drunk, is he? Pulling you up by the waist, he texts Kunhang to bring his car down to the lounge.
This is going to be a long night.
viii. home 
You wake up to the sun in your eyes and immediately know you're someplace you shouldn't be. This isn't your bed. The sun doesn't reach your bed in the morning. This isn’t the dormitory. You see a cubical alarm clock, a pixelated smiley face on it as it displays 10 A.M.
You get up and immediately shriek. You’re not wearing any clothes. Pulling the blanket up to your chin, you look around the room. It’s huge; the walls are multicolored with a little section opposite the bed reserved for photographs. There’s a lot of junk all over the floor that you don’t pay mind to when you notice Yangyang.
“Yangyang?!”
He rouses blinking slowly, hair going every which way and his eyes still unfocused. He looks like he’s had a difficult night.
“Why are you on the floor?” you ask, shrinking further into the ridiculously soft bed when he gets up. Massaging the back of his neck, he looks like he's looking at a mirage instead of a real live person. Unfortunately, he’s not wearing a shirt and you look away after a prolonged minute of staring. This is getting ridiculous. What are you doing here?
“Yangyang!”
“Huh? Oh!”
He seems to be finally awake. You should pop the question before it eats you alive.
"Did- Did we…?"
Yangyang blinks at you in confusion before a loud "oh" erupts from his mouth.
"No!" He says in between laughter. "No, we didn't. Oh my god, you’re so funny. You took off your clothes saying it's too hot and smacked me with them. I didn’t look, by the way.”
Your jaw drops. You can’t even form words through the pulsing headache.
“Your clothes are on the chair. And I didn’t touch your underwear. Out of respect."
You avoid eye contact in embarrassment. 
“And… well, you did kiss me once. Twice.”
You look up alarmed and he raises his arms in defense. 
“You- you were drunk so I had to push you off. You cried a little after that. Sorry.”
“Oh god.” You cover your face with your hands, sitting down on the bed. That has to be the most embarrassing thing you could have done.
“You- Don’t worry about that. You’re a good kisser. I was kind of surprised,” he offers in an attempt to make you feel better but you only grow hotter in the face.
“And- And I liked it,” he adds in a panic. “Wait, I don’t mean it in a creepy way.”
“I’m glad it wasn’t anyone else.”
“What?”
“You. It’s okay if it’s you.”
You give him a weak smile, still not over the embarrassment.
Yangyang laughs. “I… I think I should’ve said this before but… can I take you out on a date?”
“What were we doing last night then?”
“Well, that was- ah. You’re teasing me. Motherfucker.”
You giggle into your palm. When he takes a seat on the bed, you make a distressed sound and he jumps up immediately.
“My clothes,” you hiss. “Get out of the room so I can wear them.”
“Right,” he says, pointing an index finger at you.
He turns around right then. "By the way…"
You shriek, pulling the cover up all the way to your nose.
"Sorry," he says, averting his eyes immediately. "If- if that was a date, did you like it? Do you wanna go on another one?"
You can see him practically sweat bullets and you laugh at the innocuous questions. He’s too cute. You can’t believe you made yourself shake off the thought every time it crossed you. However indelicate his touch is, you welcome it nonetheless.
"Yes. Yes, I'll go on a date with you. You annoying, stupid, bratty idiot." 
“Okay, that was mean.”
Watching his figure leave through the door, you relax your shoulders. In the end, people will always be people. No matter what shiny new toy you give them to play with, people will always search for happiness, and they will laugh and cry and fall in love with people and places and things over and over again. It's lovely to be human in an era of diamond and steel.
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chelleztjs18 · 1 year ago
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Spiraling Thoughts (W.M)
Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)
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Summary: Wanda's spiraling thoughts get between both of you.
Warning: Hurt/Comfort angst, swearing words.
Requested: Yes
A/N: Hello! Another post, another angst from me. I didn't proof read this, sorry in advance for typos. More angsts are on their way :D Anyway, happy reading!
Main Masterlist
Happy and excited. That’s how you feel right now because today is the day you have been waiting for. You have been crossing the dates on the calendar to today’s date. A red “Moving day!” is written on the calendar.
You have packed all your belongings. Stacks of boxes are ready. Your brain tells you that you might need two trips to drive all of them with your car to Wanda’s place.
You have been dating Wanda for an amazing year and a half. Both of you are head over heels in love with each other. You have been giving hints for a few months that you are ready to move in together. Since then, it has been the talk you both have. A month ago, your girlfriend finally agreed to live together.
You are so thrilled and Wanda is happy if you are happy. She knows it from how much you talk about it.
Since then, Wanda has been reorganizing her place for your belongings to fit in. She loves simplicity, her place wasn’t the biggest but it was enough for her to live alone. Wanda tried to prepare everything for you when the day came. Being the overthinking she is, she even did some research on do’s and don'ts or tips for this relationship’s big change.
“I’ll be leaving soon. See you soon,babe!” you texted her. Wanda checks the time then puts her phone down disappointedly. You are late again. The only thing about you that she doesn’t like. Wanda is a punctual person, she hates being late. To watch you being late or waiting for someone who is late is torture to her. Every second slowly but surely irritates her even though she tries not to.
Wanda’s mind starts to spiral before she knows it. All other anxious thoughts force their way to re-exist.
She starts to think what if she has to deal more about being late because of this certain bad habit of yours. What if there are other untolerable habits or differences that show up after both of you living together for some time that might have a domino effect in her relationship with you? Or what if all of this is too soon? Is she actually ready for this? Or is she just doing this to make you happy? What happens if things don’t work out between both of you?
What if…? What if..? What if..? These two words are really pushing Wanda’s to the edge. Her heartbeat starts to double in speed. Her fingertips start to get colder and her hands seem to shake. It’s getting harder for her to breathe. Emotions slowly overfill her heart and mind.
Your Sokovian girlfriend is panicked and scared by now from her overthinking mind. Everything seems spinning. The ticking from the clock on the wall sounds louder gradually in her mind breaking the muffled sound around her. An hour later, the doorbell finally lets her get a break from everything she is experiencing.
Wanda rushes to the door even though her steps feel so heavy. She knows it must be you with all of your stuff, moving in with her. Oh dear, the closer she gets to the door, the heavier her heart feels. Thoughts flash in her mind for a second, the thoughts that you for sure don’t want to hear.
“Hi babe!.” You greet her followed by an apology as you give her a hug. An awkward smile curved on her face. Wanda tries to hold back her spiraling feelings, she is trying hard.
Wanda hugs you back but you know her pretty well, you notice even the slight difference but you try not to overthink. “Y/n, you are late again.” Flat yet irritated was her tone no matter how much she tried to hide it. Wanda glances at the boxes in your car to avoid your gaze whenever you try to look at her.
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m working on my punctuality more, Wanda. I promise.” you apologized. You thought that being late was the reason why Wanda seems a little off.
“Well, that’s what you promised three months ago and still, nothing changed.” a snarky comment forced its way out of her lips and you got caught off guard by it. Your forehead creases your eyes while you mind quickly try to figure out what’s going on.
“I’m sorry, Wanda.”
The view of her shrugging her shoulders and her smile slides down to a frown as she turns around then walks away from you. “Wanda, what’s wrong?” you ask and follow her.
Wanda picks up her pace a little to be away from you. “Nothing.” That was all her answer to you. Again, her eyes avoid yours. Everytime you get closer to her, Wanda would move further from you. Walking around from one room to another, she cleans randomly as her steps shift from one spot to another.
“I don’t think we should bring your boxes in yet, detka.” Wanda suggests. Your stomach churns a little after hearing her idea. You love hearing her calling you with any pet names but this time, you are not a fan of it because of the tone.
“Why?” Your eyebrows furrowed. You are waiting for her answer anxiously, standing behind her.
“I’m still cleaning this house, Y/n. That’s why.” Wanda’s tone is slowly filled by such resentment. Her voice raises a little.
“Wanda, the house looks fine and very clean. I know you pretty well. You are cleaning randomly, moving around from one spot to another right now. You only do it when you are upset or something bothers you.”
“No, I’m fine. We can just keep your stuff in your car tonight until I’m done with this house.” Wanda’s tone gets colder.
“Wait, what? What did you mean? Keep them in my car overnight?” your forehead puckered in confusion. “You heard me.” she responds while continuing whatever she is doing with a pout that looks more and more obvious.
“What about my clothes and—” you try to get more clues on what’s going on but Wanda didn’t let you finish. “You can wear mine or borrow whatever you need..”
“But, you told me that everything’s ready. I even made sure with you yesterday about today and you said yes. Something is off, Wanda. Tell me, what’s wrong?” you rambled.
“Nothing..is wrong, y/n.” Wanda denied all your words. You noticed she looks way more unease. You follow her yet Wanda still avoids you from being too close to her.
“No, something is wrong Wanda. You smile differently. You–”
“Y/n..” she calls.
“You didn’t hug me the way you usually do. You–”
“What are you talking about?” Wanda tackled your assumption with the pretend confusion.
“Yeah, you know what I meant, Wanda. You clean randomly and—”
“Oh come on! What stupid theory was that? You should’ve known me, for crying out loud! I..love..to clean.” Wanda lets out her irritation and anger through the way she puts down things.
“You clean loudly. Sometimes you put things or close stuff loudly when you are upset.” you lined up more supportive examples. Wanda walks away from her bedroom to the living room, leaving you but you are determined to get the answer. “Fuck, y/n. Just please stop.” Despite the curse word, Wanda still tries to suppress her voice that’s raising up angrily as she starts to feel cornered.
You take a spot in front of her to block her path of avoidance.“No. No. I won’t stop until I get my answer. What’s going on? Why on earth that all of sudden I can't unload the boxes. I’m really confused right now. There’s–”
She didn’t let you finish once more. “I already told you why.” she gives you a second of death glance before she takes the sideway to walk away from you again.
“Yes, you did but it wasn’t the truth Wanda. You lied. Are you getting cold feet about us living together?” Just like that, your question instantly stopped Wanda and she snapped as she turned around to you.
“What if I am?!” Wanda can no longer keep herself together. She finally spilled the painful truth. meanwhile you are too shocked to respond to it. A soft gasp forced its way to be heard. You swallow hard and your heart drops in a millisecond before the brunette continues to pour her thoughts out.
“What if I’m freaking out right now? This whole thing is too soon, too early or whatever we can call it.” words after words and thoughts after thoughts flowed in such anger the more her mind thought about it.
“Too soon? Wanda, you agreed about this. We have been talking about us living together. We plan this. I thought you wanted it to happen as much as I wanted to?” you argue back with a pinch of genuine confusion.
“Do i, y/n? Or was I on board with it just because you keep giving me hints of what you want? You wanted the truth, right? There it is!” Wanda places both of her hands on her hips as she looks away just so you won’t catch her eyes slowly turning glossy from tears.
After a few seconds of pausing her words, she continued. “You were late coming here, it’s your habit. We both know that. What if you never change? What if there are other things, habits or — or — or differences that trigger us to argue? Imagine if we turn to that couple who fight constantly. What if it doesn’t work out for us?”
Your head hangs low, you look down somewhere random. Anywhere but her eyes. You shake your head slowly followed by a disbelief chuckle. “Wow, you talked like I WILL be or I am the cause that everything won’t work out between us in the future while you are actually the one that shattered the dream that we had. Oh I’m sorry, babe. Let me rephrase that, MY dream, not yours.” you lift up your head and look at her eyes mid sentence and let sarcasm end it.
Your heart aches. In your point of view, Wanda is being unfair to you and it provokes more words out of you. “So you changed your mind?”
Her voice fills the room before the deafening silence ate it all up. You can hear her take a harsh breath. “Y/n—”
“It’s a yes or no question, Wanda.” you demand her answer as you keep looking at her.
Wanda clenches her jaw in silence but it was an obvious shortcut to reach your conclusion. It was enough for you to dig out the answer.
“Y/n, can you just—” Wanda once more trying to avoid your question but you are not having it.
“Leave? Don’t worry, Wanda. I will. I’m gonna go home.” With that, you turn around and walk towards the door. You were hoping that she will try to stop you from leaving but a gut twisting fact shows that she doesn’t even try and just stands there, looking down in an expression that you can’t really decipher. You slammed the door as you walked out that made Wanda flinch a little.
What just happened? Is it over? Was I being selfish? What on earth is going on? Both of you are lost in your own thoughts and questions with no answers. Despite all the thoughts, Wanda stays where she is. She doesn’t know what she feels right now, everything is overwhelming for her even until right this second. She feels drained and tears slowly fill up to the brim of her eyes. Every beat of her heart hurt her. The room feels like an airtight box. Her knees laden. Without her control, the tears finally rolled down her cheeks.
Your brain is multitasking between thinking and focusing on driving. Your knuckles turn white from squeezing the steering wheel as you drive. The more you look at the boxes that are reflected on the back mirror of your car, the more heartache you feel. The day that was supposed to be one of the happiest days in your relationship with Wanda went downhill in a blur. It all happened so fast, too fast actually. Your mind is still processing everything that just happened on your whole way back to your place.
This was the first big fight ever in your relationship and Wanda.
_____
You and Wanda give each other space for two days. That one text she sent you and you didn't reply, Wanda took it as you needed your time alone.
While waiting in silence, Wanda starts to ponder, not just one but many things. Everything that happened that day kept playing in her head over and over again bringing her sense to the surface.
Wanda slowly admits to herself that she was too harsh on you and her anxiety got the best of her. Guilt starts to build up in her heart. Her mind has been filled up with everything about you. Without you, Wanda feels empty and she doesn’t like how it feels when you are not around her. Her heart is longing for your presence and affection. She misses the cheerful side of you that always breaks the silence around the house. All your jokes, laughs and your companion always make her days so meaningful
Wanda’s memory starts to remind her that you indeed have tried your best to fix the bad habits for her as much as she does for you. RIght now, she feels like a fool for forgetting about it.
A week has passed, the more she tries to give you the space and time you need, the harder it gets for her and the more she misses you. Her love for you finally conquered all of her overthinking thoughts. She knows she can’t live without you. Wanda loves you too much to lose you.
_____
With a heavy heart, you just started unpacking the first sealed box that you brought to Wanda's house.
You exhaled harshly right after you heard a knock on your apartment door. You are really not in the mood for having visitors but you get up anyway just in case it’s something important. You see Wanda through the peeping hole.
You stayed quiet behind the door and decided not to answer it. You hear another knock and Wanda softly talks. “Detka, it’s me. Please open the door for me.” You can’t deny that you miss her with every bit in you. As much as you want to let her in, you are still hurt with what happened.
“I know you are in there, y/n. It’s your day off today and I see your car too.” Wanda paused for a little bit and waited for your answer.
Your heart feels heavier from hearing her tone that sounds sadder second by second.
“Y/n, sweetheart, please. I need to tell you that I’m sorry, truly sorry. I miss you. Please let me talk with you.” Wanda’s voice turns shakier while trying to keep herself together from all the sadness and pain she is having from her guilt. You see her through the peeping hole one more time only to find her wiping her tears. It was just a little tear but you know it’s a lot for her.
Wanda heard you finally unlock the door and it’s slowly ajar. She sees you turn your back on her as she walks in. Sparky runs to you and you pet him for a little bit. Wanda waits for you to turn around and see her.
A smile instantly shows up at the same time with her emotional tears as soon as you turn around. “Hi, my love.” she pauses her words once more. The pet name she just called you with 
“Hi.. you–uh you lost your spare key?” you ask. You really want to hug Wanda, you don’t like seeing her green eyes get all teary but you hope your small sarcastic question will hide it.
“No, I still have it but I just didn’t want to just walk in here unannounced just in case you– you don’t want to see me.” Wanda slowly lets out her understanding answer. Her eyes search for yours.
You always love how Wanda is so thoughtful and respect your personal space too. It hits you too, some guilt slowly shows up.
Wanda notices the box that you were unpacking. Her lips slightly open in surprise.
“Are you unpacking the boxes?” she asked awkwardly.
“Yeah, I have to.” you start to make yourself look busy to avoid more eye contact with her. You unpack more boxes and walk around just like Wanda did.
Wanda’s reaction is different from yours. She quickly grabs your wrist gently but firm enough to catch your attention.
“Y/n, I have something to say. Can you look at me please?”
Her sad tone finally drags your eyes to her glossy green eyes. "Okay, Wanda. I'm all ears." you stated.
Wanda takes a deep breath slowly as she holds your hands before she starts her ramble. “I’m so sorry for how I was and what I said that day. My–my anxiety and overthinking got the best of me. I should’ve talked about it with you in a better way. I promise I will work on my overthinking and will talk about it together.” She pauses while her thumbs rub the back of your hands.
“Days without you really got me thinking. It’s so quiet without you, your voice, even your texts and I don’t like it. I miss us. I miss doing a lot of things with you, I miss your jokes and laugh. I even miss waiting for you to get ready while I’m worried that we are getting late.” Wanda lets out an awkward little chuckle at the end to distract you from noticing her being vulnerable.
You stand closer to her as she continues. “I’m sorry. Please give me another chance. I really don’t like my girlfriend being away from me too long. I promise I’ll work on my bad habits.” Wanda runs her perfect looking fingers through your hair gently. 
Your heart melts under her touches and who can say know to those gorgeous eyes? Not even you. 
“Apology accepted. I will always give you chances because you always do the same to me.” you giggle a little. You put both hands on her shoulders right away after she pulls you closer.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Wanda”
Both of you instantly tangle in a long soft kiss. You miss her sweet lips touching yours. You and Wanda let out relieved sighs in the kiss. She feels alive again having you so close to her. She doesn’t want to lose you anymore but you can feel that she stops the kiss. Wanda pulls her face away from you. She looks at you dearly.
“Did you notice Sparky’s new collar’s tag?” Wanda asked in a whisper.
“No, what is it?” you asked back but your curiosity doesn’t want to wait so you call him only to find him standing behind you.
You turn around to pick him up as you notice his new collar. "Aaw it's a key shape collar with I Love You engraved on it. That's so sweet. Ouh does it mean you want me to move in with you now?" You ask Wanda while giving Sparky some love and not paying attention to what your girlfriend is doing behind you. She chuckles nervously.
"Well, turn it around and check it out." Wanda gives you a clue and shortly after she hears you let out a surprised gasp.
Will you marry me?
It's engraved in the back of Sparky's collar. You quickly turn around only to find Wanda gets on one knee, holding an opened box with a ring in it.
"Malyshka, it has been a great year since you came to my life. Everything has turned so beautiful since then and when we were away that long, I felt devastated. I don't want us to be like that anymore. I promise we will communicate better to work on our bad habits, problems and solve them together. I just want us to grow better and grow old together. I promise I will be a better wife than I was as your girlfriend. Will you marry me, Y/n Y/l/n?" Her eyes twinkle with hope and love for you.
Bubbles of joy burst in you and spread the thrill all over you. Your eyes and Wanda’s get teary at the same time as she sees you smile from ear to ear. You are speechless.
“Is that a yes? Say something please, y/n? Should I take that as a yes?” Row of questions line up out of her. Her hands are a little shaky. Your heart beats faster. You know you blush so hard because you can feel the rush in you. You nod eagerly. “Yes! Of course Yes!”
Both of you start to laugh in tears of happiness and Wanda puts the ring on your finger. You pull her up to hug and kiss her shortly after. Sparky barks and wags his tails. Excitedly licks your cheeks and Wanda’s in turns in the warmest group hug that always feels like home to you.
“Let’s come home, detka.”
“You are my home.” you replied and Wanda sealed your lips with more short loving kisses. Both of you smile in the kisses.
A/N: Welp, that's all from me today. I hope you like it. Let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. Follow me for more.
Cheerio!
Taglist: @madamevirgo @musicinourlips @unstable-sapphic-hoe @fanboy7794 @chloe7076 @b0mbdotc0m @trikruismybitch @ichala @californianwhiterabbit @honey-sweet-hiraeth @imfuckinggenius @sxfwap @chaekhan @daenerys713 @luvmcgrath @stupidsapphicsstuff @pattypavo @imdoingsortagay @marvelwoman-sugarbaby @frvny @fluffyprettykitty @franfineashell @heyyoweveryone @ygtft-chen @yaaskasey @sweeet-likeeee-cinnamonn @paumxmff @dopeyouth @beaniejennie @ineedafinghug @idkwhatimwriting @lucydiibi @mainly-rebloging-fics-i-like @gloriousfoxruins @grxvitye @mcubreakdown101 @aos22 @wandanatstan @paulawand @yeeterthekeeper @femalehomosexual666 @snowdrop1026 @modernmonalisa @nothingisrealanyway @idamaemann @sweeterlust @royalityofmultifandom @playboysaleen @peabrain112 @gwhaley127 @harleyswanda @bodhi-j @darth-rain @cristin-rjd
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judesmoonbeauty · 7 months ago
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Love Begins From a Mean Lie: Victor Collection Event Story
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Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. What I obtain is what will be translated. Translation notes are marked with *** Dividers: @/natimiles
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It was one day when I went to submit a report to Victor........
Victor: This is a grave situation!
Victor looked through the documents and let out a curt voice.
Kate: Huh, is there something wrong...?
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Victor: No Kate, your work is perfect as usual! It’s just……
Victor: WILIAROGJUDROGALELHARIWILJUDELL!
(Uh, is that some kind of spell…?)
Victor: ....This is the order of the cursed people you wrote in your most recent report.
Victor: Do you notice anything?
Kate: Notice?
Victor: I’m not in it!
Kate: Ah, that's true.
Victor often has a busy schedule as the Queen's aide…….
He can't put in as many Crown assignments as the others.
Besides, I had not written a report on Victor recently, as I was accompanying the others on missions.
Victor: ……. Actually, Her Majesty the Queen told me that she didn't have enough information about me.
Victor: So, Kate! Will you write about me with your own hand?
Kate: I'll leave it to me, that's what I do!
Kate: But ..... Is there any mission that you can participate in from now on, Victor?
Victor: That's the thing. Crown assignments are allocated based on everyone's abilities.
Victor: Adding me after the fact would please everyone, but I can't deny that it will detract from the mission.
Victor: Besides, even though Her Majesty the Queen wants the information, the Queen's aide's job is not going away.
Kate: As usual, you've been busy……
Victor: …..Yes! How about you interview me?
Victor: I'm sure Her Majesty will be pleased if you put it all together and give it to her.
Kate: An interview....... Okay, I will! I look forward to working with you.
…….Thus began the interview to write down Victor's information.
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Victor: My name is Victor. I am a the Queen's aide and a member of the Crown!
Victor: Height 183.5cm! Birthday is February 20th!
Victor: If you deliver any presents to Crown Castle, I'll be grateful for them!
Victor: Charming points? There are many, but if I had to choose just one, it would be the mole on my mouth.
Victor: This is also one of the "Seven Wonders of Vic," where if you press it, the left and right sides will be switched the next day!
Victor: I’m a cheerful person, who loves everyone at Crown and is loved by everyone at Crown. (👀??? That last bit is news to me.)
Victor: ……Come to think of it, we were talking about how Crown doesn't have a mascot.
Victor: I guess you could say I'm the mascot!
Victor began speaking without pause, and I took notes earnestly so as not to miss a single word.
(…..Hmmm. There's a lot of subjectivity in Victor's work, so we'll have to separate that properly.)
(Any other questions…….)
Kate: Victor……when do you usually sleep? I feel like you’re always awake.….
On sleepless nights, I wander into the kitchen and find Victor busy making sweets.
Early in the morning, I woke up for some reason and was taking a walk in the garden, and I saw Victor watering the flowers……
Victor was always there when I noticed it, so I wondered when he slept….. 
Victor: I'm just like everyone else. Sleep at night and get up in the morning! That's the secret to good health!
Kate: That’s right. When we met in the morning, you didn’t even have bedhead, so I thought you weren’t sleeping.
Victor: No way! I'm a normal human being. I need my sleep.
Victor: I have naturally good hair, but I don't miss taking care of it every night, so it's hard for me to have bedhead.
Victor: But, it’s not like I don’t sleep at all alright? If you don’t mind, why don’t you come wake me up?
Kate: Eh…..
Victor: If I could see your face when I woke up,…….I would be so happy that day.
Kate: …..Ah, I’ll think about it.
Victor: Hehe, you’re always welcome!
Watching someone wake up makes me feel like I'm trespassing on their private life, which makes me feel a bit uneasy…..
(The only people who are allowed to see that kind of thing are the people who are really close to you.)
(….. I wonder if even the always energetic Victor is a bit languid when he wakes up from sleep.)
Even though I refused, I couldn't help but imagine Victor waking up.
(....should not. I need to concentrate on the interview! Next question is....)
Kate: Recently, have you done anything bad Victor?
Victor: Hehe...there's always evil in Crown! Good question.
Victor: Bad things…….I guess so. I lied to an innocent child for my own personal greed.
Victor: As an apology, I'm going to prepare a delicious royal cake for the child! That’s usual news.
Kate: Victor is preparing a cake to apologize! That’s new.
Victor: Of course, it depends on the degree of lying....... By the way Kate, what kind of cake do you like?
Kate: I’m torn...... I like anything with chocolate, and strawberry shortcake too....
Kate: Oh, and items made with seasonal fruits are also hard to give up.
Kate: .... But I'm not being lied to by you now Victor, am I?
Victor: …..Do you believe so? Maybe without you even realizing it, I could be telling a terrible lie.
Kate: Then let's go to a cake shop together.
Kate: I have a lot of questions and choices to make, so please bear with me.
Victor: Hehe……You're so cute and confused, I might just buy the whole store.
(Victor would really buy everything …..)
Victor: Now, what's the next question?
Kate: Next, yes….
Kate: Victor is full of himself and cheerful……
Kate: You don’t seem to have anything to be afraid of, but is there anything?
Victor: Afraid of…..huh.
Victor: ……Everyone at Crown.
Kate: Oh, maybe that’s why you’re “afraid of cake”? ***
Victor: "Afraid of cake"?
Kate: By telling people that you’re scared of what you like……
Kate: It's an oriental story where….. you can get what you like from someone who scared you.
Kate: Victor, I think you intentionally said you were scared because you love everyone in the Crown.
Victor: Hehe, that’s an interesting story.
Victor: It's true that I cherish and love everyone at Crown……but what I just said is true.
Victor: If the Crown follows its path to the end and conquers evil with evil…..
Victor: ……Someday I will be judged by them.
Kate: What…..?
Victor: …..I think there is such a possibility.
I didn't think Victor had any crimes that would warrant being judged by the Crown…..
I don't know everything about him, so I couldn't deny it.
Kate: Because you're afraid of being judged... Are you afraid of Crown?
(Like God announcing death, the Crown announces destruction to evil.)
(Victor may also fear Crown as a symbol of his own destruction.…)
Victor: ….It’s a little different.
Victor: If I'm guilty, I think I deserve to be judged. There’s no fear there.
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Victor: Just…
Victor: I'm so happy now that I'm spending time with everyone...I'm sad and scared that it will end someday.
(Victor isn't afraid of being punished...he's sad that his days are coming to an end.)
(In that case….)
Kate: …. I don't know what crime you’re guilty of Victor.
Kate: That sin, if it can be atoned for in some way….I don’t know.
Victor: ….Yeah.
Kate: But ……I, too, want these days to continue!
Kate: So if I can help, please give me a shout.
Kate: I will always help you Victor, just as you always do!
Before I knew it, I told Victor that I wanted to help him, and he smiled kindly at me.
Victor: …..Thank you, Kate.
-Then I asked many other questions and finished the interview with Victor.
Kate: Hmmm ........ I wrote a lot, but….
Kate: Does Her Majesty the Queen really want this information .....?
There are some parts where Victor's way of thinking and personality are well written.
Even if Her Majesty the Queen were to read it, it would contain information that would be neither harmful nor helpful.
Victor: Of course, I’m very happy! I'll be sure to give it to Her Majesty the Queen later!
Victor's jewel-like eyes sparkled as he picked up my report and smiled.
Victor: ……Thank you for writing about me, Kate.
When I returned to Crown Castle after the interview, I met William.
In the color of the setting sun shining into the hall, his red eyes that never lose their edge find me, and they flicker happily.
William: …. It seems it took quite a while to submit the report today.
William: Did you have afternoon tea with Victor?
Kate: No, it seems that Her Majesty the Queen actually wanted information about Victor…..
Kate: I interviewed Victor and compiled it into a report.
William: Hmm? …..that’s an odd story.
Kate: What…?
William: Her Majesty the Queen knows Victor better than anyone. She wouldn’t say she doesn’t have enough information.
Kate: What…? Does that mean Victor lied? Why?
William: Regarding Victor's lie this time...Is there anything that concerns you?
Kate: Concerned about…..
FLASHBACK
Victor: ….. Thank you for writing about me, Kate.
What left a particularly strong impression on me was the happy look on Victor's face when he saw my report after the interview.
FLASHBACK ENDS
(Could it be….)
Kate: Victor lied…..
Kate: …..Because he wanted me to write about himself?
William didn't confirm or deny my guess, and smiled leisurely.
William: …..Our work must not be known to others.
William: Only those who walk under the light are etched into Britain's glorious history.
William: There's no need to complain about it. But….
William: Sometimes you may wish to carve it with your own hands and leave it behind.
William: -As Britain flourishes and shines brightly, there is a dark shadow that falls over it.
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(Victor wants me to write it down…..?)
(….If so, he’d be happy.)
As a fairytale keeper, I can record Victor's steps and make him happy.
Thinking like that, I became even more motivated.
(Besides, I would like to continue to write about it.)
(…If I do that, I'm sure I'll be able to get closer to Victor.)
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***Just a note about the "afraid of cake" scene and being linked to a story or tale in the East. I couldn't find anything myself and I'm 100% sure I translated this scene inaccurately. So, take it with a grain of salt.
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[Master Lists]
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runnning-outof-time · 11 months ago
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I’ll Be Home For Christmas | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Request: no - written for @pacifymebby ‘s 2k Follower/Christmas Celebration
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Summary: Tommy promises (Y/N) that he’ll be home for his family’s first Christmas in Arrow House. (Y/N)’s hoping it won’t only happen in her dreams.
Warnings: none - just some Christmas fluff
Word Count: 2223
A/N: Congrats on 2K, Layla! I went with the song ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas’ … I listened to Brett Eldredge’s version of it and came up with this idea. I hope you like it. And it’s fitting that this is being posted on Christmas Eve, right? Sorry for cutting it close. Happy Holidays to all! Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one
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(Y/N) sat back on the chaise lounge with a sigh. She bit on her bottom lip as she held the reciever up to her ear.
“Are you still there?” came from the other line.
“I am,” was what she was able to get out before she choked on her words, fingertips pressed against her lips as she tried her damnedest to hold back tears.
“Tell me what’s wrong, love.” Even miles away and through a phone call, Tommy was still able to read his wife like an open book.
There was a moment of silence before she responded. In that time, (Y/N) was trying to decide whether she wanted to make her plights known or not. On one hand, he was her husband; the person who she was supposed to disclose these sorts of problems to. On the other, she didn’t want to add another problem onto his probably already full plate.
“(Y/N)?” Tommy’s voice cut through her internal debate, bringing her back to the conversation.
“When will you be home, Tommy?” she decided to come right out and ask.
“I’ll be home for Christmas,” he assured her within seconds of her making her worry known.
“But…but Christmas is tomorrow,” she stammered out, wracking her mind to try and figure out if his homecoming was even possible, “where even are you right now?”
“I’m in London, and I know it’s tomorrow. I’ll be home,” he assured her once more.
“It’s our first Christmas in this new house,” she said as she looked around the reading room that she’d decorated to her particular taste. The manor was beautiful, but it felt so empty when Tommy was away. “The kids had the best time decorating the tree,” she added, a smile gracing her face as she thought back to the time she spent with her three children earlier in the week. A time that Tommy had missed out on.
“That’s good to hear,” Tommy smiled as he closed his eyes and pictured his three young children gathered around the large tree in the living room. He never had a chance to make a memory like it when he was younger. The fact that he wasn’t present for his children at this time felt like a stab to the heart.
(Y/N)’s smile faltered as the thing that had been eating her alive from the moment her husband’s car pulled out of the driveway returned to the forefront of her mind. “I can’t have you gone much longer, Tommy,” she finally spoke, deciding to come out with her thoughts rather than keep them in.
“I won’t be, darling,” he assured her.
“When will these business trips end?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he sighed as he ran a hand over his face.
“Yes you do. You’re the head of the company,” she insisted, a tinge of desperation seeping into her words.
“They’re part of the job.”
“They’re taking away time from our family.”
Silence rang on the line after (Y/N)’s declaration. She was no longer able to hold back the tears, letting them silently slip down her cheeks as she tried to keep the front that everything was fine on her end of the conversation.
“I’ll be home for Christmas, (Y/N),” Tommy was the one to break the silence after a few moments had passed.
(Y/N) swiped away her tears and nodded even though he wasn’t able to see her. “Ok, Tommy,” she agreed, even though she knew that it would most likely be a moot promise.
“I have to go,” he told her then.
“Ok,” she nodded once more, “I love you.”
“I love you. Give the kids a kiss for me.”
“I will.”
The line went dead after she told him she would. (Y/N) hung the phone up and let out a shuddered sigh. She looked at the garland lined mantle for a minute before closing her eyes and silently hoping that Tommy’s promise would come true this time around.
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The sentence “mumma, wake up!” graced (Y/N)’s ears at the beautiful hour of seven o’clock the next morning. The feeling of three, small bodies bouncing on the bed soon accompanied it, making the woman finally open her eyes.
She was reluctant to at first because she knew that doing so would bring her beautiful dream of sitting by Tommy while watching the kids play with their presents to an end. The sight of the empty spot next to her in bed still hit her like a ton of bricks even though she was prepared for it. She couldn’t dwell on it though, because the kids’ excitement increased tenfold the second they saw her eyes open.
“Let’s go downstairs!” Charlotte, the oldest of the three, declared as she hurried to get off of the bed and make her way to the door. Max and Henry - twins who were two years younger than Charlotte, quickly followed their sister, their excitement practically palpable.
(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile as she tossed the covers to the side and moved over to where her robe was hung on the dressing screen. She took the same path as her children once the cozy garment was tied tightly against her frame.
The children were already rooting around the gifts that were placed under the tree, trying to find the ones that had their names on it. (Y/N) smiled as she made her way over to the couch and sat down on it. A tinge of sadness crept up on her before she could stop it. Tommy should be here, she thought to herself as the children went about unwrapping their presents.
Tommy’s words from the previous evening then echoed in her mind: “I’ll be home for Christmas”. She wanted to badly to believe that and think nothing else. But that sadness still loomed.
The children were excited to have their mum unwrap the presents that they made for her once they were finished opening theirs, and (Y/N) was able to push the sadness away as she beamed at the thoughtful, homemade gifts they’d given her.
The gloomy feelings came back when the kids went back to playing with their toys and she was left alone on the couch once more. An even larger wave washed over her when she noticed the unopened presents that still sat under the tree. One of the tags was facing upwards, and the name ‘DAD’ was written on it in Charlotte’s unmistakeable hand.
“I’ll be home for Christmas,” Tommy’s words rang in her mind again. She sighed and hugged her robe tighter to her body before looking over to the clock. Only in my dreams, she thought as she tried to focus back on the kids.
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(Y/N) and the children ate a wonderful breakfast before the three young ones quickly dragged her back into the front room so that they could continue playing. She’d just gotten comfortable under the blanket when the sound of tires on gravel was heard outside. It made her eyebrows furrow. The family wasn’t supposed to come over until later, she thought to herself as she glanced over at the clock sitting on the mantle. It was still early in the morning.
Then the worry started to set in. (Y/N) was no stranger to the type of business that Tommy was involved in. She was by his side while he created a name for himself, and she stayed with him every step of the way. He continuously assured her that no one would ever come to their home and attack their family, but (Y/N) still couldn’t get the possibility of it to leave her mind.
She was so engulfed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear Frances say “welcome home, Mr. Shelby. They’re in the front room,” as her husband entered the foyer. It didn’t even set in as Tommy appeared in the archway, and the three children went running over to greet their father.
Things didn’t become clear until Charlotte turned to face her and exclaimed: “mumma! Dad’s home!”
Then everything came into view. Charlotte with a wide smile on her face. Max and Henry in their father’s arms. And Tommy. Tommy was looking right at her with one of the widest smiles she’s seen from him in a long time.
“Let’s go over and see your mum, eh?” Tommy said to his sons before he made his way over to the couch. Max and Henry wriggled out of his arms once he stopped in front of (Y/N), clambering up into her lap to give her a hug and a kiss before they went back to their new toys.
Tommy’s eyes quickly found (Y/N)’s once it was just the two of them. “You made it home,” she said, her smile practically stretching from ear to ear.
“I told you I’d be home from Christmas, love,” he answered, winking as he sent her a grin.
“C’mere, Tommy,” she held her hands out to him, and he got the idea, sitting down next to her on the couch. (Y/N) didn’t waste a second, throwing her arms around his frame and practically climbing into his lap as she hugged him tightly. “I’m so happy you’re home,” she whispered into his neck as she nestled her face deeper into it.
“Wouldn’t miss Christmas with you for the world,” he told her, his hands finding her shoulders then. She took it as a hint and lifted her head to look at him. “I love you,” (Y/N),” he said as he reached up and ran his hand down her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her smile widening before she closed the gap between them to press her lips to his.
The kiss was filled with so much love, and (Y/N) would have happily held it longer if her lungs weren’t screaming for air. She was the one to pull away, but she didn’t move far, opting to rest her forehead against his. “I love you, Tommy. Merry Christmas,” she breathed, her eyes still closed as she reveled in his presence.
“Merry Christmas,” he responded in a similar tone, his arms moving to wrap around her frame.
“Dad! We have presents for you!” Charlotte’s excited voice broke into their reverie moments later.
(Y/N) moved slightly so that she was now sitting next to him, and Tommy managed to tuck one of his arms behind her back - in efforts to keep her as close as possible - before their children came over to him with presents in hand.
“Open mine first!” Max exclaimed, thrusting the small box into his father’s lap.
Tommy smiled at the boy before he went about opening the present. (Y/N) watched on with a smile, knowing exactly what her husband was getting and how excited their son was to give it to him. Max let out like giggles of excitement as Tommy took the silver tie clasp that had a horse’s head on it out of its holder.
“Do you like it?” the boy asked with anticipation.
“I love it,” Tommy smiled before adding, “I’ll wear it the first chance I get.”
Henry gave him the next gift, which was a fancy pen that the boy had picked out himself. He said that Tommy could use it to write all of ‘his important letters’. Tommy made a promise to use it as his only pen from then on.
Then it was Charlotte’s turn. “Be careful when unwrapping it, dad. It’s fragile,” she gave a warning, one which Tommy chuckled at but also heeded to. “Do you like it?” she asked, like her younger brother had, when it was completely unwrapped.
Tommy didn’t say anything at first. Instead he stared at the present. (Y/N) peered over his shoulder to see what it was. Charlotte had been keeping it a secret from everybody. What Tommy was holding made (Y/N)’s heart swell. It was a hand drawn picture of her family - Tommy and (Y/N) stood on either side, then Max and Henry were standing next to them. In the middle was Charlotte, holding both of her brothers’ hands while she was wearing her favorite, purple colored dress. (Y/N) also didn’t miss the fact that Tommy, Max and Henry were all wearing a peaked cap.
“Do you like it?” Charlotte asked again, getting slightly impatient as her father was taking too long.
“I love it, sweetheart,” Tommy answered, finally looking up to smile at his daughter, “it’s perfect, Charlie,” he added, sounding choked up.
“It’s our family!” Charlotte exclaimed, a beaming smile now present on her face.
“It is,” Tommy nodded, “and it’s going in a frame so that it can sit on me desk.”
“So you can look at it always?” she asked.
“So I can look at it always,” he answered with a nod. Charlotte then rushed to get onto the couch so that she could hug her father.
(Y/N) quickly took the picture out of Tommy’s hands before it would get crumbled. She couldn’t help but smile as she looked down at it. Everything she needed in life was present in that picture…and was sitting beside her on the couch.
She was thankful that Tommy was able to make it home for Christmas.
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Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife
MASTERLIST
Listen to Brett Eldredge’s version of I’ll Be Home For Christmas:
HERE.
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haedalkoo · 2 months ago
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Jikook talk? Yes! This thought has been lingering for a while, but I guess 1.5 years post-face is better than never lol
I love love love letter and I’m still kind of in disbelief that it featured jk in the background vocals out of nowhere. It sticks out to me because jimin didn’t have to use anyone’s voice other than his own for them just like in the rest of the album. Especially on a track that is generally “hidden” from widespread release. It makes me think of my favorite facet of jikook’s dynamic, that kind of hushed intimacy. AYS in sapporo gave me the same feeling at times. I love their gentle playfulness, that’s probably what their dynamic is like in everyday settings, but quieter moments feel so sweet. Plus not to mention jk casually playing letter on his guitar live then acting as if he just made up a chord. The whole first half of 2023 felt like a fever dream in hindsight
I miss them so much with Jimin’s birthday around the corner 😞 just half a year left to go
This made me go watch every video of jikook and letter out there on the internet before coming back to reply and now I'm a mess, rip. Like you said, Jimin had no particular reason to include JK in an album that was so personal to him, personal to the point that he rejected the idea of collaborating with Yoongi in it (still waiting for that collab in the future tho.) Yoongi couldn't be in the album but JK could?? Okay...
And the lyrics. God.
You, who stretched your hand out to me whenever I fell / I say Oh Oh, I’ll hold it now (...) After all this time has passed / Will we still be the same? / Just like we were when we first met Baby, don't leave / Just stay by my side / You, who sees someone as small as me as someone big [stay] So that I can give as much as I've received / So that I can keep my word Don’t worry / Just stay by my side / We don't know what the future holds / and that's scary and makes us afraid / But don't forget that we're always together (cr. bts-trans)
I understand there are a lot of references to the relationship between armys and bangtan, and that's really precious but I also think it can coexist- that love, that feeling of having a companion through the hard times, always together even if separated. That's armys, but that's also Jungkook. He's been there even before we existed, and he's there when we're not.
This song was written before they knew if they would get to serve together. 18 months, when you're so tied to someone that you spend your free time with them, is a lot. I can see why it mattered to Jimin that JK's voice was in this song.
They love each other so much :( sapporo just confirmed to me that they are each other's comfort and favorite person, and I'm so happy that they have each other (even if things are scary and they are afraid) (that lyric got me thinking of 'I am just as afraid as you are when you see me when you touch me / the universe has moved for us / our happiness was destined)
Destiny, right?
(Happy birthday to our warm spring day Jimin 💖💖🐥)
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smilesatdawnmain · 4 months ago
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I bet you have so much to do with all your great au's and the fanfics and arts you make for them (they are always awesome by the way), but I was wondering if you are planing on writing the Untaken au sometimes in the future or if its going to be a fun idea but there is nothing big planned.
I hope you are happy and healthy. Take your breaks and have a nice day!
I am planning to, yes!! :D I’ve already started too. I just don’t know when I’ll post any fanfic stuff about it. I have written many many things for it however :3 hehe
And I’m happy to share a scene from it
——
Note: since MK was never taken in the UnTaken Au, he would go back to being Xiaotian. (Nickname still being MK)
Taken Xiaotian however, would instead be named Xiaohua. (Nickname still being Xiaoxiao)
It was pitch dark out when Wukong’s eyes popped open, the sound of the door creaking open drawing him awake. Keeping still, he frowned at the ceiling. Mihou was still sound asleep beside him, pressing tightly to Wukong’s side with the King’s arm firmly around his waist. Keeping his mate secure, Wukong listened to shuffling, moving through the room slowly. He couldn’t see them, so they must have been smaller than the bed.
Positive it was one of his children, just not sure which one yet, he waited. He heard the laundry hamper being flipped, pushed against the bed so the child could use it as a stepping stool to make his way up onto the bed. Moving through the fluffy blankets they crawled. Their breath was heavy through their little nose, unaware they were being watched.
Wukong peeked down by his feet when he felt a little hand grab his foot above the covers. He could smell the child now as cinnamon overtook his senses; MK.
His smiles, reaching down to brush his fingers to the toddler's head. MK was startled, jumping a little when he realised his Dada was awake. Immediately MK was nuzzling against his Father’s hands, his wet cheeks evident against his palm.
Wukong’s thumb brushed to MK’s cheek in the dark, his voice soft. “What’s wrong, bud?”
“B-Bad dream.” the child whimpered
“Oh,” Wukong frowned. He patted his chest to draw MK closer to lay against him, “We can’t have that now. C’mere.” MK was quick to scamper up to his chest and nuzzle against his fur. Wet eyelashes closed, cooing.
Wukong rubbed his boy’s back, soothing his little one. He kissed the top of his head, lifting the blanket to cover them both. “Such a brave Monkey Kid.” he murmured. It didn’t take long for MK’s breathing to slow, his little chest rising up and down as he slipped into sleep. Wukong smiled, drifting back into sleep himself.
A few hours later Xiaohua was kicking down the door, a bundle of beheaded fluff. “Xiaotian is missing!” he screeched. He paused when MK’s head snapped upward from his Father’s chest, fur messy and eyes wide. Xiaohua’s mouth fell open in absolute SHOCK!
“Good morning, Xiaoxiao.” Wukong purred. Next to him, Mihou’s head was lifting drowsily, eyes inconsistently blinking.
“Huh…?” he grumbled
“Sleep over?!” Xiaohua demanded. He patted his little chest, clearly left out of such a fun event. “Without Xiaoxiao?!”
Mihou blinked, too tired to really form any words, and just buried his face back into Wukong’s shoulder. He tugged on Wukong’s tail with his own for his mate to deal with this situation.
“Gee thanks.” Wukong frowned at him. He gestured for Xiaohua to calm down, “It’s okay buddy, MK just had a bad dream so he came here. You can come join us right now?” he offered, patting beside him.
He could see the top of Xiaohua’s little head at the end of the bed, heatedly walking back and forth. Grumbling and on the verge of a tantrum. “Xiaoxiao is peeved! Peeved I tell you!” The child declared.
MK and Wukong glance at each other, sinking a bit further into the mattress to try and flatten themselves, hoping if they disappeared maybe they could avoid the wrath of the jealous Xiaohua.
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