#also the glasses look like an afterthought bc they were

[strangegoingsons]

here’s a Jarley i doodled bc i wanted to colour something-

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day Two: Spies/Heist @rowaelinscourt

Month Masterlist // AO3 Link

Inspired mostly by Leverage but also White Collar

Will be a mix of being set in the US and with Terrasen being a real place bc I can be more lenient with history and art and such this way.  Just go with it.

Summary: She’s a thief with only one thing on her mind: finish the job and move on.  When she’s asked to break into Terrasen’s Museum of Art, Celaena has her doubts.  Mostly because she’d much rather be grifting her way across Europe.  But when she learns what needs stealing?  Well…her schedule clears right up.  Enter the client, a pain in her ass.

Warnings: None, ~3.6k words

.*.*.*.*.

The Too Far Gone Job (Part One)

There was a subtly to her job that no one quite understood.  It wasn’t surprising this day in age, but Celaena was a bit insulted by it all the same.  Too often people were so precocious and proud in themselves that they failed to recognize that beauty was in the details.  Many things took a great deal of care to be done properly.  A brain surgeon didn’t rush in with a scalpel after hardly reading scans.  A gymnast would spend hours and years perfecting that one little twist to bring the perfect flip.

And a thief?  Well, a thief would take her time with understanding every intimate detail of her target before attempting a break-in.  The Mortimer Wyrdlock for example was the best, most secure safe in the world.  Built with seismic sensors as well as heat sensors, biometric scans, and thick, metal that no mere handheld saw could touch—it was suicide to even try and get close.

Celaena always put her faith in the underdog.

Concerto No. 4 in F Minor played through the grand halls of Terrasen’s Museum of Art.  She’d always preferred this concerto to the others mostly for the violin.  For the feeling it evoked for the way it always felt like there was a game afoot, a secret to be held, all with the slow building crescendo.  It was beautiful.  Once, she’d been able to play it on the piano, rather compellingly if she could say so herself.  That was before she’d been ushered into her current lifestyle.

All of the things she loved about the song were only emphasized by the marble and vaulted ceilings of museum.  And even though the song was still just an afterthought to cover the chatter and scuffing feet of the party, Celaena could appreciate all the subtle nuances of the song.  Glorious and powerful.

She weaved through the many bodies meandering about the hall.  Most, if not all, were too consumed with the expensive champagne and caviar floating around them.  It was far too easy to pick a target in all the men (and women) surrounding her.  Especially the senator that was already drunk with his fancy watch hanging out in the open like that.  Of the string of Eyllweian diamonds that another woman wore.  So easy.

But she had a plan.

And it only seemed right that this plan be executed here.  It had been ages since she’d stolen something from this museum.  Twelve years to be exact.  She’d been twelve and pressed to execute a flawless grift. 

The architecture of the building was flawless, truly.  The vaulted ceilings, the tall windows that stretched along the walls to look over the Oakwald Mountains.  It created an atmosphere of elegance and finesse.  It was one of the oldest buildings in all of Terrasen, one of the last remaining from the war. 

Which made it the perfect target.

Celaena fingered her glass of champagne as she moved through the masses of people.  She could have spoken to a few of them, that was what she loved most about a job.  The grift.  The subtle machinations she made to ease a mark into doing what she wanted.  It wasn’t lying and it wasn’t stealing, it was merely encouragement. It helped that most of her marks were bastards and the very thing that was wrong with society.  Usually.  Most of the time she just wanted the shiny things. (Alright so it was lying and it was stealing, but could you really blame her?).

Truth be told, she was just a little distracted by all the beauty surrounding her.  There were the vases from Mesopotamia, the old book of King Brannon, the Darcus blades.  She really wanted to steal those, but it would almost be too easy.  All she needed to do was flirt with the security guard doing a terrible job to blend in with the party.  The poor thing was in a cheap suit and poorly done tie…how had he gotten approved for this job?  It would almost be mean to target him.

Celaena moved through the party with ease, setting her champagne flute on a passing tray, only acknowledging the server with a small nod, the server barely offered a smile.  A strand of Celaena’s red hair fell over her eyes and she flicked it back casually.  Her dress clung to her frame, thin as she was.  She allowed her own confidence to carry her when she felt weak.  Because she was more than capable of this task.  In all her years of the grift, her appearance and the way she interacted with those around her proved to be the surest way to get a job done properly.

So, Celaena wore her too thin frame to her advantage and became what everyone expected: daddies little girl slumming her way through a party. 

She was invisible when she wanted to be which let her slip down an un-manned hall.

The archived vault of the museum often held the more private items.  Those that were not to be displayed without express permissions of certain clients.  Celaena’s target for tonight actually was one such item.

It was far too easy to slip down a service staircase.  She’d gotten her hands on a universal scanner so she could hack various systems with ease.  Usually if she was doing her job right, the mark was opening doors for her.  Unfortunately for her, tonight she needed more finesse and isolation.

Holding the skirt of her dress in one fist, Celaena moved down the stairs.  Her research on the museum told her that most of the below staff would be dismissed for the Gala above.  There would be one historian finishing up cataloging and a security guard to keep them company.  The security guard would have a simple enough rotation, likely only venturing on rounds once every thirty minutes.  This area was even better secured then upstairs, the guard needn’t worry about a thief like her.

Celaena couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.

She wished she could be back upstairs mingling and grifting.  It was what she preferred.  She liked putting on that mask, liked slipping away into another persona, liked pretending she was anything but herself.

As she turned down a one of the halls, she checked the small signal reader she’d stuffed into her bra.  Her comms had remained silent all night, not surprising.  But she’d thought there would have been at least something.

Four steps forward to a small alcove where the old diaries of some old white man were held.  Two breaths.  Duck back out and then left and straight.

The Mortimer Wyrdlock stood before.  The chrome fixtures glinted in the overhead lights leaving the safe looking like something out of any thief’s wet dream.  Elide was going to kill her for this.

“Hello, beautiful,” she murmured.  The safe really was deserving of all sorts of praise.

A soft noise came from the other side of her comms.

“Anything you’d like to add?” she said, keeping her voice low.

Nothing.

Celaena rolled her eyes and approached the safe.  The lovely little beastie practically called her name.

She stayed in her little alcove waiting a beat, two.  Down one of the other halls she heard the subtle conversation of the historian and security guard in one of the labs.  Unsurprising, she’d encouraged a meeting between them last week, prompting a friendship.  A small little hack into their lives revealed them both to be bird enthusiasts.  A little nudge here and there and they were automatic best friends. 

She wished it were that easy for her.  Making friends.  But what could she do?  Tell someone what she really wanted to do was bungee off the Eiffel tower?  Break into the Louvre?  Steal one of Terrasens national treasures?

No one understood her on that level.  Not anymore.

She approached the keypad lock of the safe and set to work. 

Elide had worked a system override into the scanner that Celaena smuggled in with her.  All she needed to do was hook it up to the safe and let the code do the work.  That would take getting a wire into the system.  Something that Celaena wasn’t the most comfortable with.  Maybe she should have tried the flirting and grifting route…but the client had been clear on the way the job should go.  They couldn’t even have a hint of anyone being manipulated and used.  Rude, honestly.  People were used and coerced every day.  Tricking someone into giving her the Ring of Mab didn’t seem so problematic when you really thought about it.

Celaena made contact to the keypad.

Her handheld device ran through a string of numbers and binary as it worked.  Gooseflesh rose on her skin, but that was to be expected.  Before the Gala, Celaena had made sure the heating system when down to alter the heat sensors readings.  It also helped that the sequins of her dress were heat reflective and had been tested to throw off certain sensors.

As she continued to work, Celaena didn’t want to think about how long it had been.  Usually she didn’t have to, but in this case, she was on the clock.

Her fingers flew over the screen as she manipulated the numbers just as Elide had taught her.  It was simple enough, but if she ran into any walls or blocks, Celaena had no idea what she would do.  She knew the basics to get what she needed and wanted on any other job, but the Mortimer?

As her heart pulsed in her throat, Celaena punched in the last sequence she needed.

She couldn’t help but hold her breath as she waited for the system to respond.  She was taking too long.  She knew she was taking too long.  Even with the chill of the room, she could still feel sweat collect along the back of her neck.

And then the cogs began turning.

As the vault swung open on silent hinges, Celaena allowed herself to take a breath.  She certainly didn’t get the same charge out of this as Elide.  Give her a cocktail and a trust fund baby any day.

She didn’t bother worrying about her fingerprints as she pulled the vault door open further.  Those had been burned off as a birthday gift when she was twelve.  And consistently afterwards.  Eventually most of her prints stopped regenerating and only the pinky finger of her left hand and middle finger of her right were legible.  She’d learned to adapt the way she touched and handled things. 

Inside, the vault wasn’t as spacious as the movies made scenes like this appear.  Even though it was nearly seven feet tall and five feet wide, there were still shelves that lined the walls and smaller casements for various items.  Once Celaena entered she felt constricted over the small space.  Pushing those sentiments aside, she went straight to the back of the vault where her target was clearly laid out.

The Eye of Elena, to some, was a simple necklace.  Easy in design without too many adornments and gems.  But the story behind it was what was truly remarkable.  Once, it was said to have belonged to an ancient queen who had worn it as a shield of protection and power.  This queen lived under many names, many faces, and led to the redemption of her kingdom from invaders.  The legends said it was magic and the hand of the gods.  Historians said she was a brilliant tactician with skilled generals (while also indicating that there was no way a woman could have accomplished all that she had done).  Celaena liked believing in the greater legends.

The glass case of the Eye was what made the Mortimer Wyrdlock so special.  It had personalized individual sections for specific items that could be adjusted to various parameters.  The sight of the necklace though, sitting on that satin pillow with a gold light shining down on it—it sparked a bit of rage within her.  The necklace didn’t belong to the museum and it didn’t even belong to her client.

And here she was stealing it.

The card inside the case indicated the donator it was on loan from.  On loan.  More like coerced.  Everyone felt intitled to something just because it glittered in the light. The original owners had indeed donated it to the museum, with the promise of getting it back.  But Celaena had seen the drawn-out documents between lawyers and directors insisting that it belonged to the museum.  That the owners had forfeited their rights to the necklace due to the smallest of red tape, coercion.  Control.  Lies.

The necklace didn’t deserve to be treated this way.  Strange to say about a necklace but true none the less.

This case used biometrics to open which was a little tougher to hack, but they’d been prepared for that.  It only took a few keystrokes to trick the technology to accept Celaena’s eye scan and the case popped open.

In her comm, Celaena heard a small cough.  She rolled her eyes.

“You could have done this yourself, retrieval specialist,” she murmured, knowing the comm could pick up just about any soft-spoken sound she made. “Give me five.”

Nothing on the other line.

Celaena took that as a victory and went to work.  Carefully, she opened a small drawstring bag lined with traces of led and dropped it in the necklace.  And the card.

She tucked the sachet in a secret pocket along the lining of her dress and replaced the lid.  She made her way back out of the vault before pausing at the doorway.  She ran her hand along the edge and allowed a little smirk to play on her lips.  Her work would run for just a moment longer.

.*.*.

The alarm went off just as Celaena left the archival stairwell.  She let the door shut behind her and slipped into the crowd of guests that were being ushered out of the museum.  Protocol stated that all guests were subjected to a search before and after leaving.  The good thing about being a thief and a grifter?  The rules didn’t apply to her.

She ducked into a storage closet just past the Van Goh exhibit to find a duffle bag already waiting for her.  Inside was an extra server uniform, pair of black shoes, and a taser.  She made the change of clothes quick and smooth, just as she’d practiced.  The sachet and necklace went in her bra and the scanner to an ankle holster.  Thankfully the uniform dictated flared pants for women and not a skirt.

From there it was easy to blend in with the catering crew and then disappear into the night.  Truly, some people were really unobservant.

When she ducked into an alley a few blocks away, it was the first time that Celaena took a breath.  A deep breath that filled her lungs.  It wasn’t clean or clear, but she was breathing and she was free.

Just thirty yards away waited a plain white van with the decals of a plumbing company.  She was about to make her way to it when she heard a scrape come behind her.

Spinning, Celaena’s hand went to the taser in her pocket.  She really wanted to tase someone.

“Well done,” a deep voice said from the shadows. “Only took you an hour.”

“You sound surprised,” she replied, fingers still reaching for the taser.  “You should know better than to underestimate me.”

It really was insulting when people doubted her…even if most of what anyone knew about her was based on rumor.

The man only hummed in response.  He came a few steps closer before stopping.  The pale lights of the street lamps barely permeated the night, but it was enough to get a decent look at him.  She’d only met him once before, heart rumors of him aside from that.  Well, their meeting had been less of a meeting and more of a shower of bullets.  She recognized him all the same.

His silver hair, his large build, the sharp angles of his face.  Tonight, he wore dress pants and a black shirt rolled to the elbows, leaving powerful forearms on display.  He was a force to be reckoned with, a fighter, a killer.

Everything about Rowan Whitethorn screamed danger.  Celaena knew better than to trust him.  But for this particular job, she wouldn’t regret being selfish.

“Oh, I’m not a fool, Rowan said.  He held out a hand. “Which is why I’m here.  My necklace?”

Celaena sneered at him. “My payment?”

“Transferred.  Don’t you trust me?”  He smirked at her, coming just a step closer.

Did he have to be so big?  And as much of an asshole as he was?

“I don’t trust anyone.”

“You can check your accounts, it’s all there.”  Rowan didn’t look at all worried or concerned over her lack of faith.  Instead, he merely waited as she pulled out her phone (which was essentially the scanner she’d used for her thievery) and checked her account as prompted.  It was all there.  All hundred thousand.  She was honestly a little surprised he’d kept his word.

Celaena said nothing as she took the necklace from her bra and walked it toward him.

“Can I know what your plans are for it?” she asked, tone neutral and even.

“No,” he said.  He adjusted one of his sleeves, making sure the cuff stayed rolled up properly. “Just know that it’s going to well taken care of.  You don’t need to worry.”

Celaena dropped the sachet into Rowan’s hand and he returned the comm she’d given him for the night. “As long as you know about the curse.”

Rowan raised a brow before he opened the bag to peek inside. “Curse?”

“Sure,” she shrugged and took a slow waltz in a circle around him. “The old queen who slaughtered an army who dared try to steal from her?  She still haunts that necklace, you know.”

Rowan didn’t bother acknowledging her.  He only tucked the necklace in his pocket. “Aren’t you a little old for ghost stories?”

“Nope.”

She stopped in front of him once again and clasped her hands behind her back. “Sleep well, Mr. Whitethorn.  I hope your dreams are nightmarish and bloody.”

“Try not to miss me too much,” he said in reply.

Celaena spun on her heel and headed to the van.  She didn’t look back until she was already pulling the driver’s door open.  When she had settled herself in the driver’s seat and looked through the windshield, the alley was empty.

Scrubbing a hand down her face, certainly smudging any remnants of her make-up, Celaena drew in a deep breath.  It had been a long night and was only going to get longer.  It didn’t help that she had a massive headache brewing behind her eyes.  She waited a few more minutes to make sure the alley was empty before reaching into the other side of her bra, drawing out another black baggie.

Upending the bag, a display card and golden necklace fell into her lap.  The necklace she’d given Whitethorn was an exact replica of the original.  A damn good replica if her supplier knew what they were doing.

Celaena glanced at the card and made a small promise to herself, and her family.  She would get the necklace back to its proper owners.  And then maybe she could finally be herself again.

Donated by the Ashryver-Galathynius Family

She ran her nails along her hairline before she tugged the red wig from her head and tossed it to the back of the van just as the passenger door opened.

“Next time I get to break into the fancy safe and do the stealing,” Elide said as she clambered in.  She still wore her server’s uniform of white and black, her hair pinned in a tight bun. “I hate people.”

“Sure. Next time.”

“How beautiful was the Mortimer?” Elide asked, a small pout forming on her lips. “Did you see how the wiring connected?  How did the scanner do on the hack?  Did I program it right?”

“It was big and black and a safe,” Celaena said.  She yawned and shook out her blonde hair until it fell around her shoulders. “You took a little longer tripping the alarm then I thought you would.”

Elide pulled a face. “Because I don’t set alarms off.  Looks like you tricked the client.”

“For now,” Celaena said.  She passed the necklace and her phone to her friend. “Transfer the payment so he can’t take it back when he notices the switch.”

“You think someone can hack an account I set up in the first place?” Elide let out a mirthless laugh. “Oh sweet honey child.”

Celaena rolled her eyes and started the van. “Just do it.  Let’s get back to base.”

“Home, it’s your home,” Elide insisted.

Except it wasn’t a home.  It hadn’t felt like a home in so long that she wasn’t even sure what the word meant.

“Whatever,” Celaena said. 

She pulled out onto the road and began the trek across the city.  She made sure they weren’t being tracked or followed, that would put a damper on the evening.  She’d rather be across the country before Whitethorn realized she tricked him.

Her plan wasn’t exactly foolproof.  Steal a priceless artifact and what?  Give it back to the rightful owners?  What would they do with it except give it back to the rightful owners who would then be hit with insurance fraud.  She’d been impulsive and reckless.  Moreso than she usually was.

But she would think about that later.  For now, she would just revel in having the necklace in her possession.

*.*.*.*.

Not gonna lie, am really excited about this one! I hope you enjoy it! It'll be three parts total, the other two parts coming on other days during the month. Thanks for reading, reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[orbitfalls]

I've come seeking revenge mwahaha

FMK cygnus, alphard, druella

EM NOOOOOOO

This is a terrible thing to do to me because like. NONE of these options feel right I don’t wanna fuck marry OR KILLL any of them SHJSHSJSHJS these are my sickly children that I keep in a glass jar and feed one corn chip a day like. I don’t wanna fmk them I wanna take samples of their hair and study it under a microscope??????

BUT IF I MUST (deep sigh)

We’re talking UV here btw as always

Okay shit so I’m marrying Alphard I think. To me he’s a very free spirit and I feel like that trait would be reflected in a marriage with him for sure. It would be the least restrictive thing ever we would just be best friends and travel the world together and fuck shit up. And then when he’s losing a game of cards to a group of foreigners in some random port town in the Caribbean he improvises the most outrageous travel stories while i fight not to laugh as I pickpocket his opponents. Then he frowns and claims that His Wife sadly is waiting for him back on the ship while maintaining dead eye contact with me over the shoulders. and then we run off together and steal their boat

Uhmm okay so out of these three Cygnus is my favourite for sure and I’m taking this opportunity to kill him. I think I deserve it actually as a treat yk what I’m saying. This man is the scum of this earth and I would absolutely cherish the opportunity to gently shove him off his beloved Backyard Cliff. Yet I have a feeling he’d come back to haunt me??? I would never be able to look at waves the same way ever again yk. That might not be so good if I’m marrying Alphard. Also I feel like I might miss him a little he’s just a little guy

Fucking druella. This one I feel pretty neutral about actually bc to me she’s hard to get a grasp on as a character? It might be just my lack of writing her, but to me she will always be more of an echo than a woman. She’s the afterthought, she’s the mother whose death began the story, she’s the body whose ashes were spread in the waves. To me she’s not as much of a character as she is. well. a force of irony? The waves that haunt Cygnus, the insanity that haunts bellatrix, the death that haunts narcissa, the echo that haunts andromeda. I fuck with that tho for sure yes

[unohanabbygirl]

speak your truth anon!! I also had to do a double take after seeing cregan's face because it literally didn't look like Tom at first glance 😭😭 Him with dark hair and no beard was like the equivalent of no one recognizing superman with glasses and a nerdy hairstyle as Clark

The duality of twitter reactions to this was so funny too bcs one side was all "they'll have him grow it out to show the passing of time during the war" and the other was like "they used his beard to fix jace's wig" LMAO

Not they used the hair to fix Jace’s wig 😭

Most people on my tl were so bust going crazy over their first sneak peak at Jacegan + happy that Jace’s iconic mullet vanished that Cregan’s overall look was sort of an afterthought.

I definitely stand with everyone who thinks Cregan will start to grow it as the war passes on (I once again have to convert everyone into seeing the sexy grief bread vision I have)

[leosxrealm]

ᴍᴀɴ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴅ

pairing(s): Charles Leclerc x male! Norris! reader

request: Charles Leclerc x m!reader but his older brother is Lando and he always goes to his races and gradually learns about Charles and grows a hatred for him bc he thinks he's just a rich French (Which Charles constantly corrects) guy but he eventually gets to know him so its like an enemies to lovers kind of thing?

warning(s): fluff!! kind of slow burn, long chapter (3k words), mentions of manipulative ex, alcohol, reader is Charles' gay awakening, also reader and Charles didn't have the best first impression of each other

(a/n): reader's age isn't specified so it can be read as whatever age you want reader to be (21+ cause there's alcohol involved). this was requested so long ago oml. hope you enjoy it anon <3

!not proofread!

Bahrain, 2023

"Can't you fucking watch where you're going?"

"Yo. Chill out, mate," You say, a little taken back by the stranger's outburst and even your own response. You throw up your hands in surrender, leaning your body slightly backward as if to tell the guy in the red t-shirt that you didn't mean any harm. 

You didn't intentionally bump into him. Who even does that? Too busy talking to your sister on the phone, you didn't see where you were going. And it looks like he didn't either. It was a mistake made by both of you. Why was he making such a big deal out of it?

"Don't tell me what to do," he lets out through gritted teeth. Turning on his heels, he walks away. 

"What's that dude's problem anyway?" you scoff, your mood turning sour at the strange dude's behavior. "What dude?" your sister asks. 

That took you by surprise, you forgot you were on a phone call with her. "Some French dude I ran into. He was being a bitch for no reason," you grimace, thinking back to the encounter.

"You know who he was?" your sister asks, curiosity getting the best of her. 

"Nah. Couldn't see his face."

You continued talking to your sister for a while, just until your brother was free from some team meeting that he had to attend after the free practice session.

"You have any other plans for the night?" your brother asks, looking up from his phone. He was definitely planning on hitting some bar with his friends. You could take a break, let yourself unwind for a night, you think.

"Not really," you say with a shrug. 

"Good."

---

"Who's that?" you practically shout, trying to be louder than the music playing. "Who?" Daniel shouts back. You point at the man across the room. He was standing next to your brother, talking to him. 

"Oh! That's Charles," Danny answers with a grin. "Lando and him are good friends. I think," he adds as an afterthought. You hum in response, not like he would have heard that over all the noise. You recognize the man now, he is your friend's teammate. "Oh, they're coming here," Danny says, tapping your shoulder. 

"I don't think I've introduced you two yet," is the first thing Lando says when he reaches you. "Y/n this is Charles," you stick out your hand, giving the new guy a 'hey' as well. 

"Charles this is, Y/n." Charles just gives you a nod and a loose handshake, before disappearing somewhere else. You raise your eyebrow at his odd behavior. 

"Don't mind him. He's a sweet guy, he just had a bad practice today," Daniel says from next to you. You simply shrug, it's not like he mattered to you. 

"Anyway," he grins, summoning two shot glasses from god knows where "Who's ready for some good time?" Lando cheers, ready to have some fun. You shake your head at your younger brother, of course, he's ready to party.

"Not you. You're still practically a child," Danny says while side-eyeing Lando. Your brother opens his mouth, ready to give his friend a piece of his mind before being interrupted by you. "He's right, bro," you nod, "You're what? Like 13?" 

Lando was no longer cheering.

---

"Y/n! It's so good to see you mate!" Carlos says, bringing you in for a side hug. "Carlos!" you laugh, reciprocating the hug, "it's been a while." 

"Yeah, mate. You kinda disappeared on us," he laughs, trying to remember when was the last time he saw you in person. "We were going to get lunch. You wanna join?" 

"We?"

"Uhh...There he is," he says after spotting his teammate. "Charles!" he waves his teammate over, "Do you mind if my friend here joins us for lunch?" You look at him puzzled, you hadn't even agreed to it yet. You shake your head, typical Carlos.

"Uh.. yeah no. It's fine."

You just blink at him, not that he would notice cause he was busy typing away on his phone; he didn't even look your way. A little rude, you'd say. 

---

It's a nice Middle Eastern restaurant that Carlos had picked. You and Carlos were busy talking away, reminiscing about the past, and catching up to date on each other's lives as well. Sure, you had seen his Instagram posts, and known what he had been doing, but hearing it from him was still different. Same for him.

A sudden ring disturbs your conversation with Carlos. "Sorry I have to take this," Charles says as he gets up, and exits the restaurant. You raise your brow, a little confused by his behavior. Not just today, but ever since you've met him. You have seen interviews and fan interactions with him, he certainly did not seem like the grumpy type.

"He certainly isn't like the guy they show on television," you comment, sipping on your wine. Carlos sighs, making you look at him. "What?" you raise an eyebrow. 

"He's a good guy... It's just... I don't know..." he pauses, taking a moment to think, "There's something going on with him." He chews the inside of his cheeks, squinting his eyes to look at Charles who was leaning against his car outside the restaurant, still on a call with someone you didn't know. "I heard, he's having some problems with his girlfriend."

"Trouble with his girlfriend?" you ask, taking another sip of your drink. With nothing to do here, you had been getting bored either way. And a little gossip never hurt anyone.

"Yeah. I don't know the details. It's just what I've heard," he sips his drink, "They looked tense around each other too." 

"Mmm..."

Miami, 2023

"Didn't expect to see you here." 

You turn around, your scotch glass still in your hand. "Charles," you were surprised as well. You didn't expect to see the Ferrari driver at some random charity event. "Care for a drink?" you wave to the bartender, not even waiting for his answer.

"Scotch. Neat," he orders. 

He takes a seat beside you, gulping down his drink in one go. "You good, mate?" you ask, a little concerned about the man. "Hm? Yeah. Don't worry." If he wasn't going to tell you himself, you wouldn't push him. After all, you two weren't exactly friends.

You two stuck to each other for the rest of the evening. It was better than walking around alone. During this time, you had gotten to know a bit about each other as well. He wasn't as bad of a guy as you had originally thought. 

"Yeah, she clearly knew he was flirting with her, and instead of telling the guy she had a boyfriend, she was flirting back. Even letting him cling to her."

"Oh..." you take a sip of your water, deciding on no more drinks for the night.

"And when I asked her about this, she called me a "jealous, possessive boyfriend who's taking away her freedom." Her words, not mine." he continues to rant, using air quotes to emphasize his point. He sighs, she had betrayed his trust; even if people wouldn't exactly call this cheating, in Charles' book, it was. 

"It's all good now. I'm over her," he smiles.

"No wonder you were such a piss baby in Bahrain. No offense," you chuckle slightly.

He looks down a little embarrassed, he knows how he acted like an asshole during that time. And not just to you. He would've understood if you would've given him the cold shoulder tonight. But you didn't.

"Yeah... About that-"

"It's all good, mate. No hard feelings," you cut him off. You knew he was sorry about his rude behavior, it was written all over his face.

"You wanna ditch this event?" you ask, a smile growing on your face. He laughs, not expecting such a question after the (one-sided) heart-to-heart conversation that you two just had. He appreciated it nonetheless. If you were trying to lift his mood, it was certainly starting to work.

"And go where?" he asks after a good laugh.

"I know someone who's hosting a party," you shrug. 

"Ditching an event to go to a party?"

"Ditching a boring event to go to a fun party," you correct, grinning at him.

---

"You never said it was gonna be a houseboat party," he shouts over the loud music. "Welcome to Miami!" you laugh.

You grab his elbow, dragging him towards the tiki bar. Ordering two drinks, you push one in his direction. "What's that?" he eyes the drink.

"This," you emphasize, raising your own glass, "is the perfect way to forget about your gaslighting ex-girlfriend." He laughs, appreciating the humor. The both of you chug down your drinks. 

You drag him over to the dance floor, quite practically forcing him to dance. "Come on, mate," you urge him, "If you wanted to be boring you could've stayed at the event." He laughs, finally loosing up. You two continue to dance, having some more drinks in between. 

---

"Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!..." The chanting continues, daring, challenging you to jump in the water. Charles sneaks up behind you, pushing you into the water. You turn around just before he could, holding onto him, and dragging him in as well.

You submerge, laughing as you do. Charles gasps, still a little surprised, before he laughs as well. He holds on to your shoulder, still heaving. Your shirt that you had worn to the charity event, sticking to your body.

 He eyes you, for longer than he should have. This was new. He doesn't think he had ever been interested in another man's body before. He tears his eyes away, trying to cool down the warmth that suddenly spread throughout his body. 

Your friend, the host, pulls you up, slapping you on the back in the process. You help Charles after, "accidently" pulling him by a little more force than needed. He bumps into you. He doesn't pull away like you half expected him to. He pulls away just slightly enough to see your face. Your hands go to his hips, swaying his body, along with yours, to the beat of the music.

---

The sound of laughter rings out in the surprisingly empty street of Miami. It's a small road, probably that's why. It's well into the early hours of the morning. 

It's media day and Charles knows his manager's gonna hate him when he shows up looking dead, still hungover. He couldn't care less about that now. He hasn't felt this good, this free, in forever. 

He looks to his side, you're walking beside him, one of your hands in your trouser's pocket, the other holding your blazer, a few of your shirt buttons open, slightly exposing your well-built chest and shoulder. 

"I'm so fucking tired oh my god," you laugh, looking up at the sky. Even though you couldn't see the stars because of all the lights, the sky still looked pretty. "Me too," he says, his eyes fixed on you.

"Hm?" you look at him from the corner of your eyes, "something on my face?" 

"Huh? No. Why would you think that?" he clears his throat, averting his eyes. 

"You're staring." The tip of his ears turns red. He can't believe he got caught staring. "Not that I mind." His eyes widened, but he didn't reply. You look at him from the corner of your eyes. Did I make him uncomfortable? you wondered. 

You don't say anything after that as the both of you walk back to your hotel. Charles' room came first. You stood behind him as he unlocks the door. "Wanna come inside?" he asks, turning around, and standing in the doorway. 

You smile, "Can't." He frowns slightly at your vague reply. "I have a flight in a few hours. And I still have to pack and take a shower. I should probably get something to eat as well," you scratch the back of your head, sometimes you get sick of traveling so much. 

His mouth forms an 'O' in understanding. "You're not staying for the Grand Prix?"

"I have yet another event I have to attend," you sigh, "and this one... I can't skip."

You start walking backward, not ready to turn your back on him yet. With both of your busy schedules, you don't know when you will be able to see him next. 

"I'll see you around, Charlie," you give a short wave, turning your back on him, and going to the elevator. Charles watches you leave, till he can't see you any longer. He looks down, a smile gracing his face. You had started calling him that at the party, he had thought it was because you were drunk, but apparently not.

It was truly a night he wouldn't be able to forget.

Silverstone, 2023

Charles has been on the lookout for you ever since he arrived here. It was Lando's home race, and he was hoping you would be there as well. It's Friday when he hears from Carlos that you're in the paddock. Supporting Mclaren, obviously. 

Carlos and you are good friends, right? Would that be enough for you to drop by the Ferrari garage? And you do. You stop by the Ferrari garage to say hi to Carlos, or at least that's what Charles thinks. 

You've been talking to Carlos since you arrived. A different thought inhabits his mind. Do you remember him? Was he even worth remembering?

He doesn't want to find the answers to his own thoughts that are going wild. He doesn't think he can handle you saying that you don't remember him. That night, as simple as it was, meant a lot to him. He doesn't think he can handle the person he's been searching for, ever since that day two months ago, to say that they don't remember him.

"Y/n, I hope you remember my teammate, Charles."

Carlos' voice rings through his ears. He looks up to see Carlos and you walking over to him. You nod, glancing in his direction. Carlos looks behind you to see his engineer motioning him over. "I'll see you later, mate. It seems they need me."

"Charlie," you grin. A sudden warmth spreads throughout his face and body. It's been so long, far too long since he had heard your voice. "Y/n."

"Walk with me," you say to him, quiet enough that even he was barely able to hear it. He walks beside you wordlessly. "How you been, Charlie?" there it was, that nickname again. "Uhh... I've been good. Barely gotten any time to myself after having races back to back."

You nod in understanding. Athletes really do have a tough schedule, don't they? You walk around the paddock, running into a couple of people on the way, who were very surprised, to say the least, at your unexpected friendship with the Monégasque. 

You talk about things, completely unrelated to either of your lives, just enjoying each other's presence. In a paddock full of people, there were only you two. 

As much as Charles loves racing, he wishes he had a little more time before he had to go for the free practice. "Charlies," you call out, making the Ferrari driver stop in his tracks. He turns around, a confused look on his face. "Dinner tonight? On me."

It felt like his face was on fire. Were you asking him out on a date? No, he shouldn't get his hopes up. You're friends with half the grid, maybe they're invited as well. He nods, his face the same color as his car. 

"Great," a grin spreads on your face, "I'll see you tonight." 

---

Charles was trying to tie a tie when he heard knocks on his room's door. He rushes around the hotel room to get to the door. "Y/n..." he trails off taking in your outfit. You looked... expensive. All his previous worries of over-dressing were gone. Now, he was worried that he was under-dressed. 

"Charlie," you greet him. Your eyes land on his messily done tie. "Having troubles?" Charles looks down, following your eyes. "Uhmm..." he clears his throat, a little embarrassed that he couldn't even tie a tie. 

You laugh, following him into his room. "Lemme see," you gesture for him to come closer. He does. He steps a little closer, not too close; he tries to respect your boundaries. You pull him closer by his tie, careful enough to not hurt him.

"How am I supposed to help you with it if you're gonna stand so far away?" you murmur, your hands working on his tie. "There," you smile, "all done." You don't step back. Neither does he.

He looks down, the tips of your shoes are almost touching his. That's how close you're standing. "Should I wear something else?" he questions, "I feel under-dressed."

"You're not. You look perfect," you grin at him, "Trust me, Charlie."

---

You open the passenger side for him to get out. It feels a little weird, Charles thinks, he has always been the one to hold open the gates for people, his dates specifically. He was raised to be a gentleman. It felt different for someone to open the hold the gate for him. 

He thanks you as he gets out of your car. You had insisted to pick him up. The both of you walk towards the restaurant. Charles heaves out a sigh of relief, there's no paparazzi around, at least he could enjoy the night peacefully with you.

"Reservation for two. Under Norris." 

Reservation for two? he gulps. He's happy to be able to spend time with you alone, without other people butting in, but he's also nervous at the same time because you two are alone. 

The both of you are led to a table. He walks behind you silently. The butterflies filled his stomach. Since when did he get so nervous on first dates? Was this even a date? He frowns ever so slightly, he hopes it is.

The conversation flows freely between you two. No cameras flashing in your faces, no people there to recognize you two. It was more peaceful compared to your night spent in Miami. 

Like all good things, the night had to come to an end as well. You find yourself standing in front of his hotel room once again. "Want to come inside?" He hopes this time, your answer would be yes. 

It was.

(a/n): was this close to adding surprise angst once again 🤏🏼 uh and i won’t be making a part two for this. i felt like the ending was perfect so i left it as it was. if you have any drabble ideas with this pairing don’t hesitate to send that in!! hope you guys enjoy this :)

HC: Carlos asked for all the details later when he found out about your veryyyyyy unexpected friendship with Charles

[yuzukult]

drive safe (m) || bbh x reader

title: drive safe pairing: baekhyun x reader genre: brothersbestfriend!au, chanyeol!olderbrother, romance warnings: slight rated 18+ scene, but it’s short and poorly written  words: 12.4k prompt: simply put, you’ve been crushing on your brother’s best friend for the longest time but he hasn’t seen you in a while... and you’ve grown.  notes: needed something different to write :) please enjoy... i did another brother’s best friend au bc i just love baekhyun in that kind of au lmao... I FINALLY UPLOADED!!!

He was heavily intoxicating. From the whiff of the cologne he wears to the way his lips look, so tempting and plump, all the way to the sweet melodic laugh that escapes from his throat, hand on his toned chest to contain himself.

This man was beautiful—correction— is beautiful, and has always been since you’ve laid your eyes on him.

You recall those days staying in the living room until the late hours of the night; coffee table filled with loose papers and opened textbooks to cram in for your exams, room lacking a desk for you to work on. Your brother would trail into your home once the street lights turn on, friends joining him occasionally, none capturing your attention until you met him one night.

Mocha eyes that sparkled under the dim lights at the front steps, caramel hair that looked so unbelievably soft, that you had to restrain yourself down from asking him to just let you run your fingers through those locks. Jawline chiseled, cheekbones high, and ears flushing coral when he gets embarrassed—he was just breathtakingly beautiful. And when he leans over to see what you’re currently engrossed in, supple cheeks raising as high as the sky from his smile, teeth pearly white and exposed, his gentle voice hypnotizes you to the point that you almost miss when he says his name.

“I’m Byun Baekhyun.” How the hell is he so pretty? “You must be Chanyeol’s little sister.”

Your Cloud 9 experience disappears at the sound of your brother’s name. It’s like he loves to burst the bubble of any type of happiness your way. He never fails to ruin things for you.

Then again, that was back when you were 16 and he was 22. He was in college, finishing up the remaining time he had left while you were just a mere high school student—not to mention that you were also his best friend’s little sister. This time, you’re 22 and he’s the 28 year old, finished college with a career outlined for him and you’re the one trying to finish up the last year.

So when Baekhyun stands at the threshold of your parent’s house behind Chanyeol, mouth agape at the mere sight of you, he’s in complete shock at how much you’ve grown and changed in the past years. To say the least, he hasn’t seen much of you around since you turned 18... and well, he was regretting missing the glow up.

“Why are you looking at my sister like that?” Chanyeol hisses, pushing his friend’s chest back with a finger. “You act like you’ve never seen her before.” Baekhyun can only shake his head from his thoughts, clearing his throat. “I haven’t seen her since she left for college.”

A hum from you fills the air, grasping the attention of the two males. “I’ve been back every holiday, not my fault you haven’t been around.”

Turning on your heel, you make your way past them, slipping into a pair of random sandals at the front door before greeting the rest of your family members that begin to trickle in for the annual family dinner. Every year is dreadful, but this year got interesting just from Baekhyun’s attendance.

He was every high school girl’s wet dream.

And at the same time, dream boyfriend.

He’s cute yet he’s got this aura around him that just makes him so... sexy. You recall having high school friends over during those younger years and when Baekhyun and Chanyeol would walk through the front doors, your friends would drool at the sight of the boys. You couldn’t really agree on the Chanyeol portion of that (obviously), but your saliva would run rivers length long at the appearance of Baekhyun.

What was even worse was that both your brother and dad were horrible at teaching you how to drive. This was after you’ve concluded that you had a crush on Baekhyun, and Chanyeol suggests to your parents to hire Baekhyun to teach you how to drive a car.

“Dad, you and I both know that we’re way too short-tempered to teach her. Why not hire Baek?”

“I don’t see why not.” He nods in agreement, glancing over at your mom for approval, but she’s already so giddy over the moon from the sound of his name. “Of course! My second son teaching my daughter? Why would I have any issues with that? I’ll pay him, don’t worry.”

You want to die. “Why can’t you teach me, mom? We don’t really want to bother Baek and pressure him to teach me, right?”

“Actually,” Chanyeol grins; you swear every time he does it’s mischievous with a sinful plan hidden underneath. “Baekhyun is rather quite the angel and offered himself when I brought this situation to him. He doesn’t even want to get paid for it, I just offered.” Are you kidding me? Of course. Chanyeol wants you dead.

You think you actually die when you’re sitting in Baekhyun’s car in the middle of an abandoned supermarket’s parking lot. The two of you. No sign of Chanyeol anywhere, and it’s the first time you wished that your brother were there.

“Yeol isn’t coming?”

“No,” Baekhyun frowns, pulling the seatbelt over his body and locking it in; you mimic his actions to save yourself from getting lectured by the boy of your dreams. “He said he was either going to die from your driving or high blood pressure.” You exhale a heavy breath. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Afraid of being alone with me or something, little Park?”

“Uh, no.” You lie. “Can I start?”

“Sure, show me what you know.” Pressing a foot on the brakes, you push the key into the ignition and the car roars at the start. “Are you sure you trust me driving in your car? Isn’t this girl your baby?” There’s an afterthought of Baekhyun getting this car; almost begging Chanyeol everyday to go by the second-hand car dealership to admire this beauty—well that is if you consider a 2002 Lexus SC430 with the once jet black paint chipping off a beauty, then you’d be able to relate.

He nods, licking his chapped lips from the breeze that enters in before letting out a soft sigh. “She is, so... be careful, little Park, and drive safe. I trust you to drive her. I don’t even allow Yeol to let alone touch her, so consider yourself special.” Special. Can he not say such things while you’re already anxious about being in his presence, let alone his car!

Baekhyun teaches you to drive. Another great quality he has to add to the list from that occurrence: patience. He’s the one who opened the doors exiting out of your childhood in two ways: learning how to drive and learning what it feels like to like someone. It’s the first time you’re alone with him and you’ll never forget it. It only solidified your feelings for him.

And so when you’re ready to pick up your friends for the night that you first get your license, borrowing your brother’s car, your heart swells and bursts out of your chest when he approaches your window before you pull out of the driveway. Resting his arm on the door, joy tugs on the edges of his lips. “Drive safe, will you, little Park? I know I taught you well, but I still want you home safe and sound.”

Baekhyun might be the actual cause of your death.

“So, I heard you’re in for engineering? You’re finishing up your last year, aren’t you?” 

You hum against the glass that’s pressed onto your lips, drinking in the cold water to cool yourself from the sweltering heat. Summer was supposed to be over now, but since you’re in the off-season, the weather was currently in its moods, switching on and off like a middle aged woman dealing with menopause.

Popping your lips after releasing the cup, you nod. “Finally going to grab my degree and get to do what I actually want to be doing.” You want to be out of this conversation with this... woman; you’re not even sure who she was and what relation she had to your family. A cousin, maybe? An aunt? What do you even refer to her as?

“Wow, amazing!” She exclaims as she clasps her hands together abruptly that it startles you. “My son would be a perfect match for you, he’s handsome, young...” Her voice starts to drift off at the same time that your eyes do, skimming to find your brother’s right hand man, and with your luck, his gaze is locked on yours.

He’s been watching you the entire time. 

Baekhyun’s got a red solo cup in a hand, body leaning against the white plastic fence that perimeters your deck, hair pushed back to reveal his effortlessly beautiful forehead, and just the view of the first couple buttons of his shirt let loose, you felt your knees buckle. He bites his bottom lip in light of gaining your attention— one he’s been trying to snatch the entire afternoon. He’s standing besides Chanyeol, as expected since he is his guest, but they hang almost joined at the hip and just the thought of it makes you want to roll your eyes. But when his stare locks into yours and he mouths, “come over,” you’re immediately complying with his demands.

“I’m sorry,” You interrupt the strange woman, turning to face her. “Aren’t we related? Are you trying to set me up with your son... who potentially is my cousin?” 

“Oh no! I’m just a family friend; your aunt invited me over!” With that, it only results in you clicking your tongue in disappointment, bowing to the woman apologetically. This was a waste of time. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in being set up. Now, if you would excuse me...”

She’s probably shocked, from what you can tell on the little smirk and chuckle coming from Baekhyun as you make your way toward him, arm reaching out for a side hug. “My little Park, all grown up, aren’t you?”

“Well, I’m not sixteen anymore, so possibly.” You joke.

Talking to Baekhyun felt effortless. Almost as though he wasn’t that same guy you knew when you were growing up. The crush that had looked so out of reach, too cool and attractive for you indeed seemed like he was on the same level. Bantering came easy and there were more things in common between the two of you than you previously assumed. As if this entire time… you were surrounding him with an image of what you thought he was but it wasn’t solely who he had been.

“Ah, so you agree. You think you’re handsome.”

“Are you trying to quote a ‘Mean Girls’ line on me?” He asks, eyes squinting in your direction coltishly. Raising both your hands up in feigned defeat, you tug your lips into a straight line. “Oh, you caught me, copyright police. But I believe I merely paraphrased the movie.” He lifts his brows at you skeptically, arms crossed against his chest. “Paraphrased?”

“I’m sure that the line goes like ‘so you agree, you think you’re really pretty.’“

“Maybe not me, but I think you’re pretty.” Baekhyun grins cheekily. It’s not exactly a smooth line, you admit, but anything coming from Baekhyun inflates your heart, reminiscing the old high school feelings that stirred. “Mm, cute. But not exactly slick, Baek. Slimy, possibly.”

He seethes in disagreement. “Oh, little Park, I’ll have you know that I am not slimy; I am very much a gentleman.”

“Some gentlemen have a slimy side of them.” You clarify with a tilt of your head.

“I can assure you that I am not slimy but rather smooth and creamy.”

You grimace. “I’m not sure this conversation is going into the right direction.” Pausing for a moment, you cluster the fortitude to belatedly ask: “So, why haven’t you been around for the holidays like you used to? My mom missed having you around during the holidays.”

Baekhyun purses his lips, taking in a deep breath before speaking up. “Honestly, I’ve always had a girlfriend during the holidays. Otherwise I would’ve been over. Unfortunately, those four years that I haven’t been at your house meant four different girlfriend’s family homes that I’ve been to instead of yours.” Of course, Baekhyun couldn’t be without a girl on his arm. Just look at him!

“Mmm,” You buzz in a judging tone that sharpens his focus on you. “Disappointing. Anyways,” Jumping on the tips of your toes, you lean over to peek into his cup. “Whatcha got in there, Baek?”

“Wanna smell?” He brings the cup closer to your face, underneath your nose as your face twists at the strong scent of alcohol. “What the hell is that?”

He lets out a laugh at your expression. “Its just beer—“

“—that is definitely not just beer. What did you put in that?” Baekhyun brings the drink neighboring your nostrils again. “It’s IPA, sometimes they have weird smells to it. Sometimes it even smells like weed.”

You take a second glance at him, hesitant about trying this peculiar drink. You’ve had beer before— hell, you’d had tons of types of alcohol before, but you can safely say that IPA beer isn’t one of them. The liquid hits your tongue, barely any if you’re being completely honest, and you pull away. “Eugh,”

“Eugh?” Baekhyun imitates your reaction. “You don’t like?”

“Not exactly.” You frown, stepping back from the drink in his hand. “How do you even drink that? It’s such an acquired taste to enjoy it.”

“I guess I had a lot of different kinds of alcohol while I was in University, but IPA wasn’t one of them so I gave it a shot. Kinda like them now, not what we’re usually used to.”

“You make yourself sound like you’re old.” And with that, he taps your nose with the tip of his index finger. “And I am old. In comparison to you, little Park.” 

That’s when it hits. Baekhyun can be sweet, kind, flirtatious, but one thing he can’t be is someone who could ever reciprocate feelings for you. Even if you’ve grown out of those braces, awkward puberty stages, and now an adult woman who is somewhat confident in your body— Byun Baekhyun will always see you as one thing only— Little Park, Park Chanyeol’s kid sister.

“Right,” You respond quickly, distancing yourself from him a bit and Baekhyun feels the atmosphere shift. “I think my dad needs me to help him handle the grill.”

“Chanyeol’s over there.” Baekhyun retorts back as abruptly. “Are you okay? Is it something I said?” 

“No.” You reply, prepared to turn away and say your goodbyes to the older male, but his hand grasps onto your wrist, causing you to wrinkle your brows in confusion. “Baek?”

“Talk to me. What did I say? I like talking to you and it’d be nice to keep this conversation going.” You tilt your head in perplexity. “Okay. That’s great and all but I’ve had a raging crush on you since I was like sixteen. I’m kind of over this whole thing and I’m ready to keep you as my brother’s best friend that I had a crush on when I was entering the early stages of puberty—”

“Wait, you liked me?”

A look of incredulity spreads on your face. “You didn’t know?” He shakes his head slowly, gaze trailing to the concrete ground as if he’s trying to replay the history of your relationship, attempting to find the hints smeared throughout the years. “Well, I did, and if I’m being honest, you’re great and everything, but I don’t think I can muster enough courage to build a friendship with you if I still have these somewhat lingering feelings.”

Seconds before you’re escaping his hold, his grip tightens. “I didn’t know.” He reiterates your words, eyes finally meeting yours. “Why didn’t you tell me? And why are you telling me this now? And at your family reunion at that?”

“I... don’t know.” You shrug, body language signaling that you’d stay and his hand on your loosens. “I guess I’m tired of being called little Park and seen as Yeol’s baby sister when I’ve been pining over this unrequited love.”

“You can’t even say that when I didn’t even know you liked me.”

“Oh, come on, Baek,” Groaning, your shoulders dropping in exhaustion from this entire conversation. “You’re the epitome of every girl’s first crush. Not to mention that you get along with my family. Pretty much the easiest formation of a perfect guy for a girl who was just finally realizing how cute guys were.”

Baekhyun scrunches up his nose, placing his drink down on the table beside him. “You never made it obvious.”

“Oh please, I was very obvious. Even Chanyeol probably knew about it.”

“Don’t say that, I really didn’t know! I’m sure your brother doesn’t either.” Eventually, you’re able to step far back enough that he can’t hold you back anymore. “It’s fine, Baek, I totally get it. Enjoy your night here? I’m going to socialize a bit more—I mean help my dad with the grill. Whichever one first, uh, you get the gist.”

“Oh, wow, your son is... actually pretty good looking.” You’re back in this discussion with the same strange woman before, but this time with your blood-related aunt who was the one to convince the lady to talk to you in the first place. She’s skimming through pictures she has saved of him, yet again trying to persuade into talking to her lovely son. He’s cute, you admit. He’s a year younger but that wasn’t going to turn you away. His mom, however, is coming off a bit too strong and your aunt was trying her best to pull her back.

“See? I told you! I invited him to come join us tonight, maybe you’d catch him here!” The woman claps her hands together excitedly, over the moon that you’d agreed to her perspective. “Speaking of my lovely boy, there he is!” 

And right when you face the direction she points, you see him—sun-kissed skin with his hair gelled back, tall as a skyscraper with the longest legs ever—this guy was built like a God. His eyes skim the room, but before they can meet with his mother’s, he spots someone approaching him and a smile tugs on the edges of his lips.

“Baekhyun, I didn’t know you knew this family?” 

Of course he knows Baek.

They’re exchanging a handshake, and you’re flaring your nostrils because how small is this world? Regardless, you’re not going to let Baekhyun ruin your day. No way.

“Park Chanyeol’s my friend,” He responds, placing a hand in his pocket. “And you’re here for?”

“My mom is here, she asked me to come. Son duties, you know the drill.” The younger male shakes at his own statement before giving Baekhyun a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later. She wants me to meet some girl she thought was cute, so we’ll see how that goes. See you in a bit?”

Baekhyun nods in confirmation, letting him go and as he watches his figure make his way through the crowd, that’s when he notices something. You’re standing next to a middle-aged woman—and is... is Lucas walking toward you?

“Hey mom,” The towering man smiles, giving his mom a hug. “I’m here as you asked. I’m assuming this lovely lady...” The lady introduces you to her son, and he extends his hand. “I’m Lucas.”

Baekhyun is pissed. If you saw his expression right now, the smoke coming out his ears would’ve been conspicuous.

Lucas isn’t... the smartest guy you’ve ever met but at least he’s sweet and kind?

Momma’s boy, a big one at that and you find it charming that he’s so loving and caring towards his mother. A great son... however, as a boyfriend, you can already guess what the bigger fights were going to be about.

“So my mom tells me that you’re almost done school, how’s that going for you?” The two of you have migrated over to one of the picnic tables in the backyard, old and wooden yet still surprisingly structurally strong enough to hold the weight of multiple people... and thankfully without his mom. Least she knows when to leave you alone.

“Going good, I can’t wait to get it over with and start working. School is dreadful.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that much. That’s why I didn’t go to college.” No college, not a bad thing, you think to yourself. After all, it’s what you make out of it, right? “Instead, I chose the modeling path.” What. Well, it made sense. Lucas is the equivalent to a God in looks, and you were starting to wish you were exaggerating. Probably another red flag if you guys started dating—he’s too pretty for his own good and girls would probably be crawling at his feet and your level of jealousy can’t handle that.

“Modeling? That’s impressive! How’s it going for you?”

“Slow this season. But it’ll pick up eventually. I’m only twenty-one anyways. College was never for me so I figured anything else would be better. My mom always told me that I was handsome, so why not put what I already have to use, you know?” Other than the fact you wanted to correct him and tell him that twenty-one is actually peak age for modeling, you wanted to laugh a bit because he was convinced to chase after this specific goal solely from the compliments of his mother, his biggest fan who happens to be blinded by love. Either way, Lucas was lucky he was cute enough to be a model or this conversation would’ve been embarrassing.

“If you like it, go for it. I don’t see a problem with it.” A gust of wind blows in your direction and it makes you shiver.

He smiles. “I like that. Not a lot of people agree with the whole modeling thing. Even my ‘mentor’ kind of blows off the idea and pressures me to go to college to find a ‘real’ career.”

“Mentor, huh? Has he considered giving you trade school as an option?”

“And get my hands dirty? No way. These hands were made for modeling, not being someone’s plumber and playing with pipes.” An image forms in your head— Lucas... as a plumber? Oh... that’s... kind of hot. His voice interrupts your thoughts in the end, and you want to frown until you see someone approaching. “Speaking of my mentor... have you met Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun is standing at the end of the table; although he seems nice toward Lucas, you can feel the cold air coming from him. “We’ve met.” He says, words short and sharp. “Known her since she was a high school student.”

“Oh, nice, were you also her mentor, hyung?”

“What?” Baekhyun responds, the space on his forehead crinkles. “No I wasn’t her mentor, I’m a friend of her brother’s,” slightly annoyed by Lucas’ question. You can’t seem to place a finger on why he would be so... discomposed. “Have you applied to those colleges I sent to you, by the way?”

“Hyung, I told you that college wasn’t for me. I don’t get why you’re pushing me so hard.”

“Lucas, you’re not going to be young forever. What are you going to do when you’re 40? Be in those Viagra commercials? Advertisements where the elderly have ‘fallen and can’t get up’? Be realistic here.”

It’s Lucas’ turn to be upset, and rightfully so. “Hyung, you’re embarrassing me in front of my new friend. Who— by the way, is very supportive of my endeavors.” Baekhyun scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief and disapproval. “Supportive? Actually, give us a moment, Luc, I have to speak with her privately.” Grabbing onto your wrist, he tugs you from your seat, and you whimper at the aggressiveness. 

“What the hell! Baek, let go, your grip is tight.” 

Taking you inside the house, he walks through the hallways while dragging you when he sees the familiar door that leads to your bedroom, shoving it open before shutting it after the two of you are inside. He lets go of his grip. “Explain.”

You sneer at his demand. “Explain what? I didn’t do anything. You should be explaining because you dragged me here.”

“Just thirty minutes before, you profess your feelings for me and then you’re talking to some guy? What the hell is that?” You jaw tightens but you want to retain your emotions since his were spilling. There was never a good outcome if two people that were butting heads are acting upon only feelings.

So you walk over to your closet, sliding the doors open in search of a sweater but this only makes him infuriated. “Answer me— why are you looking through your closet while we’re having a conversation?” Snatching a hoodie off the hanger, you pull it over your head. “I’m cold. And you’re the one who is having a conversation. Well, not really a conversation, more like you’re lecturing me.”

“I am not lecturing you. I’m trying to read you and you’re not making it any easier for me.”

“What are you reading me for?” With the hood over your head with the end of your dress peeking out of the oversized fabric, he thinks you’re cute like this and he can’t help himself. Lunging toward you, his hands cup your cheeks and before you know it, his lips are pressed yours.

Baekhyun is kissing you.

Byun Baekhyun, your brother’s right hand man, your parents favorite non-blood related child, is kissing you. He has to force himself to pull away; he never thought that your lips would be so soft, and how right it felt in that moment.

Your fingers reach up to touch your lips and you’re left speechless for a moment before the words erupts from your mouth. “Did you just kiss me?” He’s just as dumbfounded as you are because all he does is nod in return. “Why’d you do that?”

“Look, I don’t know if I have the same exact feelings for you like you do for me but seeing you with Lucas in that way... pissed me off. I didn’t like it.” Baekhyun looks troubled because he’s letting his hands run through his chocolate locks that were styled previously. “But I think I like you. I never really thought anything of it until you said something... but maybe we can give this a try?”

You squint your eyes at him. “Baekhyun, this isn’t something you just ‘try.’ I don’t want to be lead on. You can’t just say that you ‘think’ you like me and walk in like you own me or something.”

“At least give me a chance to make this work. Obviously something happened back there because I was ticked off enough to embarrass my mentee in front of you.” He sighs, dropping his body onto your made childhood bed. “Poor kid.”

“Eh, he’ll be fine. He needs something anyway. I heard he lives in his mother’s basement, which is fine I guess, but despite not going to college, he has debt?” Baekhyun glares at you from underneath his long luscious lashes, but it’s light and he’s not upset anymore. “Don’t make fun of my mentee, I’m supposed to guide him!”

“Do better.” You retort before plopping your body beside him on your bed, laying down flat on the covers. “I’ll give you a chance. But we can’t tell Chanyeol. If it doesn’t work out, then it’s a secret and he doesn’t have to worry. If it leads to more... let’s just wait ‘til that time comes and we can figure something out.” 

You can’t see him from where you are, but the sound of his voice is a dead giveaway that he’s smiling at your words. “I like the sound of that.”

“Aw, look at that, my best friend and my kid sister. Where were you guys?” Chanyeol looks a bit tipsy with his hooded eyes and crooked smile, but he’s only spilling elation when he slips in his socks and into the arms of Baekhyun when the two of you exit your room. 

“Uh, I wanted to move my desk and Baek offered to help.” Yeah. That’s a good excuse. 

“Mm, could’ve always asked me. But of course, Baekhyun here is an angel and loves to help out my family. Wouldn’t it be amazing if he was our brother?” The expression on your face cringes in disgust, the thought of Baekhyun being your brother and it’s like he reads your mind when he catches Chanyeol stumbling in his arms, pulling the taller male up. “You don’t want me as your brother, Yeol, that’s weird. Maybe I’ll date my way into your family,” He jokes, and you mouth ‘too soon!’ in his direction as he gives an unapologetic shrug shared with a smile.

“Who... her?” Chanyeol points to you with his chin, brows crinkles but releases with a laugh. “No way, man. She’s not even your type.”

“She can be my type.” The expression on Baekhyun’s face was pained, attempting to hold him up. “Little Park is pretty.”

“Mm, but she’s the serious type and you’ve had probably ten ‘serious’ girlfriends in the past four years!” He exclaims as you’re guiding the two of them toward Chanyeol’s bedroom, swinging open the door. “Little Park hasn’t even brought a boyfriend home.... heh, mom thinks she can’t get a boyfriend.”

You hiss. “That’s not true.” Chanyeol sticks his tongue out at you and you get a hit of vodka coming from his breath. “I think it’s true.” He sings, dropping his large frame onto the bed, eyes heavy. “Little Park needs a real boyfriend, Baek, not a fling!” Minutes later of Baekhyun trading Chanyeol’s jeans out with sweatpants, the two of you slowly close his door and heave out a weight breath.

“That was exhausting. He does this every year; it’s like my family is purposefully trying to get him to drunk to make me suffer.”

“Sorry,” Baekhyun mutters, hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. “I should’ve been there to help you.” You wave him off, shaking your head in disagreement. “He’s my brother, it’s my responsibility.” Just when you’re about to walk away, he tugs on the hem of your shirt before you turn with a raised brow.

“You’re not... upset about what he said, are you?”

“About what?”

“About me. Having flings, never really having a serious girlfriend. About you, never bringing anyone home.”

You shrug. “I never wanted to bring anyone home in the first place. Doesn’t really matter to me.” Baekhyun chews on his bottom lip anxiously, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers. “I hope I can be that for you eventually.”

“Be what?”

“The one you want to bring home.”

Naeun is your best friend, biggest supporter, and also the most brutally honest person you’ve ever met. It’s in her DNA to be this way and although sometimes her candidness can hurt, you know she means well. So when you tell her about your Baekhyun escapades, her jaw is dropped down to the floor in awe.

“You’re kidding.”

“I am nothing but forthright.”

She smiles, tilting her head back in skepticism. “... No, you’re definitely playing me. There is no way he said that he likes you. There’s no way.” You pout. “Is it that hard to believe that a guy like him finds me attractive? Jesus, Naeun, hurt my feelings why don’t ya.”

“Girl, I’m just saying. He’s too hot and too much of a fuck boy... so him wanting to risk his relationship with his best friend to go after her sister... unless...” Her thoughts trail off for a moment before she comes back. “... Nah, never mind. There’s just no way. There’s a catch to this, I’m going to find it.”

“There’s absolutely no catch.”

“I’m just saying baby girl, watch out.” She’s leaning back on a wooden chair in your room that you had borrowed from the dining room set, swaying on the two legs dangerously. “Girls get their hearts broken because of him. And it’s because he’s such a nice boy about it that it makes them feel bad. Isn’t that crazy? What power he holds.”

“You’re giving him way too much power just from this conversation we’re having. Naeun, if you believe that he has that much hanging over all of us, then you’re enabling him to do so!”

“So you agree... you think he’s a playboy with a lot of power.”

“Naeun!” You holler, rolling your eyes at your friend. “He’s nothing but a guy that I like. We keep talking about him as if he’s this being that’s better than all of us when in actuality, he’s just a really nice guy.”

Naeun scoffs. “Who is really fucking hot, by the way. Don’t forget that.” She stands up and makes her way toward your closet, slinging the doors wide open. “Which means you should probably update your wardrobe too. You think a guy like Baek wants to date someone in hoodies and sweatpants all the time?” You purse your lips at your friend. “Don’t make me feel insecure about this, he already told me he likes me.”

“Okay, but what about the competition? Aren’t there girls lining up for him?” There’s silence for a moment, indicating that you’re almost lured into her trap before she sings your name. “Come on, wouldn’t you want to try looking cute for him?”

“I try!”

“Did you meet him today?” She asks. “Yes?” You respond questioningly. Why?”

“And you were wearing that?” Naeun gestures your attire. As mentioned before, just like your entire closet, you’re dressed in black hoodie and sweatpants. At least they matched, right? She grabs your hand and pulls you up. “You said you guys were going to meet tonight again, so let’s get you ready for that!”

If meeting Baekhyun required getting ready 3 hours in advance, you don’t know if you can date him anymore.

As planned, Baekhyun is parked at the end of the block waiting for you, shooting a text in your direction to let you know that he’s here. Slipping your phone into your bag, you heave out a heavy sigh of how tight this skirt that Naeun forced you into. “I thought I looked fine earlier,” you grumble to yourself before adjusting your blouse and snatching a jacket from the coat rack.

Attempting to sneak out of your house without gaining Chanyeol’s attention was hard. He couldn’t help being nosey. It was in his nature.

“Whoa, looking smokin’ hot for who?” Chanyeol exclaims with his arms crossed in front of your bedroom door. You groan loudly. “Can you please just leave and get out of my way? I’m trying to go out.”

Chanyeol looks astonished. “And with who? I’ve never seen you dressed like this before.” You push a strand of hair that gets caught in your makeup. “Honestly, I don’t know either. Naeun made me look like this.”

“You’re probably going to scare the guy away before you even get him.” You frown. “Let me figure that out tonight. So if you would excuse me—“ Aggressively shoving your brother aside with your hidden Hulk strength, he slams into the wall and winces as you made a run for it.

You want to cry. You felt ridiculous, and Chanyeol’s comment only made it worse. Walking up to Baekhyun’s car, you see him leaned against the hood of his car, skimming through something on his phone. He looks amazing in dark slacks and jet-black sweater tucked in them. He lifts his head to see you, jaw dropping in shock. Your legs were out for the world to see, shirt low enough for a glimpse of your cleavage and he can only gulp and clear his throat before stuttering on his words. “Whoa—I—“

You respond with a moan. “Do I look ridiculous? Naeun came over earlier and forced me to dress prettier, and Chanyeol stopped me before leaving the house and said I looked crazy. Please tell me which one it is so I can go back and do something about it.”

Baekhyun laughs. He laughs as if the situation you’re in is funny. “I think you’re always pretty. You just look even prettier today.” You chew on your bottom lip anxiously, shoulders dropping in doubt. “Are you sure? We haven’t even started the date yet and I feel like I ruined it.” He only shakes his head with a soft smile, walking over to the passenger door to open it for you.

 When he’s sitting in the car beside you, he swears his throat closes up when your skirt hikes up in your seat. Warding off the sinful thoughts of you, he starts the ignition of the car, letting the engine warm up for a bit before driving off. The last time you’d been in this car was when he was teaching you how to drive; weekend after weekend, while just you and Baekhyun in this worn down Lexus, he stole your heart bit by bit. You never thought you’d find yourself in this situation again; somehow you were the one stealing his.

“Where are we going?”

“Dinner. I heard there was this really great Italian place they opened downtown. Maybe we can get dessert after?” He glances over at you to see your reaction, only regretting because you so pretty with the sunset behind you.

“That sounds good.” You grin.

That night, the dinner itself wasn’t the most amazing thing you’ve ever had, but the talks you had with Baekhyun were. There wasn’t a dull moment with him, he had stories to share that made you laugh until you’re almost choking on the pasta and by the time dinner was over, you were just glad that there was still dessert to look forward to.

“This place looks new.” You say, eyes sparkling with the countless of options listed on the menu mounted above. “There’s so many to choose from.” Baekhyun notes that although your eyes seem youthful and the smile plastered on your face supported that, everything about you wasn’t the same anymore. How’d he miss out on this for so many years?

You wave your hand in front of his face. “Baek, you good? Have you decided what you like?” He lets out a nervous chuckle, nodding his head. “Uh, yeah. Grab me the strawberry on a cone, will you?”

He slides his card to pay before you could even stop him, frowning when you hand him his cone as the two of you exit the shop. “I could’ve paid, you know.”

“I don’t really trust anyone who gets mint chocolate chip… so…”

“Oh, so you don’t. What’s wrong with mint?”

“Do you like eating toothpaste or something?” You slap his arm, and he winces, remembering that although you were small in comparison to him, your strength was impeccable. “Oh—shit, I’m sorry, Baek.”

“I forgot how strong you were. Do you lift or something?” His face contorts in pain, but he’s not in that much pain. “No, although, now that you mention it, I should probably get into it since I know I’d be so good.” Baekhyun winces. “How am I ever going to stand next to you? I’ll be living in fear all the time.”

“Speaking of, I heard you finally moved out of your parents place.” Licking your ice cream, Baekhyun has to look away or else these thoughts would creep up again. “I have. Want to come over after this? We can squeeze in a movie, and I borrowed something from Chanyeol the other day, so I can drop it off when I take you home.”

Bent over, reaching for the controller underneath the coffee table, Baekhyun swallows. His gaze drifts off to the ceiling, praying that you wouldn’t notice the boner he’s supporting right now. When did you grow up? He has to shake off the dirty things he’s imagining you doing right now.

“Here.” You slap the controller in the palm of his hand before adjusting your top. “Are you comfortable? Do you wanna borrow some of my clothes?” Lips jutting into a pout, you want to tell Baekhyung, yes, hell the fuck yes I want to wear your clothes and get out of this brutally uncomfortable skirt, but the words don’t leave you mouth and he can only smile. It’s like he reads your mind because he stands from the couch and enters into his room. Seconds later, he has a pair of sweats and a hoodie for you. Your favorite dynamic duo.

You’re barely 1/4th through the movie, Baekhyun’s arm around you with your head cuddled against his chest while wearing his clothes that smelled so good, smelled like him. This amount of comfort was never evident with any of your previous relationships, but something about Baekhyun made everything feel okay. Turning your head to look over at him, he’s breathing soundlessly as if he’s asleep, but his attention is all diverted to the television. His jawline looked tempting, skin smooth and soft, you bring your lips to kiss the bone.

He chuckles at the action, eyes down to meet with yours. “Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I should be the one asking you that.” He presses a chaste kiss on your lips before giving you one last look of confirmation. Crashing his lips onto yours, you welcomed him inside with your tongues knotting and sliding past one another, you hum against him. It sent a warmth feeling down your center and you wanted know if he felt it too. Pushing the blanket off your frame, you climb over his lap, swinging a leg over before pressing yourself down on him, his hands slowly making his way to your waist, hesitating as if he’s asking for permission. Hands forcing on his in invitation, he complies, pulling you close to his body.

He lets go of your lips, a lewd smack from your kiss separating. He’s panting like he’s just run a marathon, heart racing to the point that he’s afraid you can hear it. There’s a rush in him, excitement pumping through his veins and he’s never felt this before. You felt too much like home to him, and this was just the first date, how was he supposed to survive any more if you had him wrapped around his finger like this?

“I don’t want to go any further if you don’t want to. It’s our first date—Is it too soon?” He says, his voice meek and faint, the total opposite of how he usually is around you. Afraid he’d mess it up, afraid that everything that happened today wouldn’t happen again if he didn’t do it right.

“Please take me. I want you, Baek, I really do. I’ve been waiting for this since I met you when I was sixteen.” You sounded desperate, cheeks flushed in embarrassment of how intoxicated you were from his kisses. “Don’t make it sound like that, I’m sorry I made you wait this long.” He whispers before leaning back into the kiss, palm rubbing your hip soothingly before you begin to grind on him. The sight of you in his clothes brought the blood rushing straight into his pants that were starting to be uncomfortably tight.

Baekhyun made you feel like a princess that night—sprawled on his bed, arms wrapped around his neck while he peppered kisses constantly on your damp forehead, skins slapping as the headboard of the bed bangs against the wall. Soughing sweet nothings into your ears, nibbling on your lobes to help you reach your high, a hand reaching down to toy with your clit before your toes are curling, fingers digging into his shoulders while your climax was approaching. He had you in a trance, fully blissed out, and before you know it, you’re cumming, letting out your final moans and cries. It drag must’ve felt nice, because his hips are stuttering, losing it’s rhythm until he stills, long spurts of his cum splattering you walls.

He falls over, pulling you close and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, gifting you a quick kiss on your sweaty skin. “Stay for the night?” You nod.

You end up staying more nights with him.

Your presence meant more to Baekhyun than you ever knew. Those rough days where he’s at the office, he loves coming back to his apartment, seeing you in his dark home with only the kitchen light illuminating on the granite island with your books spread out with your notes and music blasting from your computer. There were some nights where he’d be home late hours and you’re snuggled in blankets on the couch, the only brightness in the room is from the television, shining on your face in multiple colors with you completely engrossed with what’s playing. It was his favorite part of the day, the thing he looked forward to the most.

The night he knew that he couldn’t ever let you go was when he came home just in time because you were taking out a tray of something from the oven, apron wrapped around your frame with a surprised expression on your face. “Oh, you’re back?” You sound shocked, mostly because you told him you wouldn’t be here tonight but yet… there you were.

“Not that I don’t love having you around, but I thought you said you weren’t coming over today?” Baekhyun asks, dropping his jacket on one of the dining room chairs. “And what are you making?”

You scrunch up your nose. “Honestly, sorry baby, I wanted to use your oven. Then I felt bad for using your oven without telling you, so I baked you banana bread as well. Then I lost track of time and I’m supposed to deliver these cupcakes to Naeun for her lacrosse team bake sale tomorrow.” Baekhyun chortles in amusement, wrapping his arms around you from behind before pecking your lips. “All good, baby.”

He doesn’t even care that you came to his house without a warning. He’s glad you’re there—Baekhyun had the expectation that you weren’t going to be there that night, so the drive home was dreadful, but just catching you in the act of using his oven… nothing made him happier. He’s not letting you go.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You hiss, eyes darting at him. Pausing from stuffing your personal belongings into your duffle bag, regret washes over how much stuff you’ve accumulated here. His place had too much of your things and having this fight alone was bringing in a lot of realizations. How could you get comfortable so easily?

Baekhyun sighs, fingers running through those locks that you had always dreamed of having your own in, but at this state, you’re fuming with anger. “You’re only twenty-two and my best friend’s little sister. There’s so much to life you haven’t seen yet... I don’t think you’re mature enough for me.”

“I’m not mature enough for you?” Shaking your head, you continue to fill your bag. “Ridiculous. I’m twenty-two, Baekhyun, not sixteen. Need I remind you that you also wanted this? I’m also not the one talking to other women while you’re with me— with me! You said you liked me. But the entire time, you had someone in the back burner, ready to replace me when it’s time.”

He says your name with another exasperated breath, feeling speechless. He doesn’t get to feel frustrated, you think to yourself, not today, not in this situation. “I do like you. More than you think, actually. But do you ever think of what Chanyeol is going to say or how he’d react if he knew? I’m feeling guilty, extremely guilty. You’re not just his sister, but you’re his little sister, which means a lot more. He’s getting suspicious of me sneaking around with some girl he hasn’t heard about yet.”

You’re fuming. Little sister this, little sister that. Every conversation with Baekhyun always seemed to lead to that topic—how young you were, and how experienced he’d been in comparison. “Who fucking cares? He’s my brother, he doesn’t get a say in my relationships. And who is he to you that he can decide yours?”

“He’s my best friend, one that’s been around for me almost forever. I can’t just go behind his back and date his sister, let alone sleep with her.”

“Then let’s not make it complicated any more. I’m leaving.”

He freezes. Why’s he suddenly so shocked? He was watching you pack your bags seconds ago, yet it’s like reality only struck him in that moment. Baekhyun reaches to grasp onto your wrist and you push back. “Wait, you’re not actually leaving, are you?”

“What do you expect me to do? Stay? After the way you spoke to me? What about when you called me ignorant and inexperienced? Too young for you? Should I list more things why you can’t be with me and for some reason you want me to still stay?”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that,” He says, stuttering in his words. “I still have feelings for you, nonetheless.”

“That doesn’t mean shit, Baekhyun.” You pull from his hold, slinging the bag over your shoulder before storming out his apartment. “I have some pride and dignity. I can’t just stay with someone who looks and speaks of me so condescendingly.” He doesn’t stop following you though, door left open as he chases you down the flight of stairs. 

“Drive safe,” He says softly, watching your figure make way to your car that parks outside of the apartment complex, heart clenching at the sight of you walk away. “Please text me when you get home.”

“As if,” You scoff, aggressively opening the door. “Don’t expect to hear from me anymore, Baekhyun.”

He’s like every other guy you’ve ever dated, have ever been with. This guy—the one who you’ve always put on a pedestal and admired— wasn’t just a guy anymore, but rather any other one you’ve ever dated. He’d stolen your heart in your early years but in actuality, Byun Baekhyun was like any other boy. Disappointing and sleazy.

Respect and admiration, the two main characteristics you looked for in a man, and the one that you thought had them, didn’t end up having them. Tears were welling up into your eyes as you’re driving; sleeves too long that they cover your hands on the wheel, and you want nothing more than just to speed past these cars on the highway.

But you knew better than to let your emotions run wild. Yet the tears just don’t stop falling.

Age. Age was just a number. There were so many people that were the same age as you without the equivalent amount of experience as you held. Whether if it were more or less, the main point was evident: age didn’t matter. It’s what Baekhyun felt was a constant need to remind you when things weren’t working out or when it got tough. It had been frustrating. Maybe it was a good thing to have left. After all, what would it have been like if you had to tell your brother?

There’s constant dinging coming from your bag, and once the traffic begins to build up, you take your attention away for a brief moment to check it.

10 Missed Calls. 30 New Messages.

All from Baekhyun.

There’s an urge within you to want to call him back but you know better. If you heard his sweet, soothing voice over the phone, you’d unconsciously turn your car around and drive directly back to his apartment. It’s how it always was.

But from now on, it was different. You can’t put Baekhyun on a pedestal anymore, you can’t put him as this picture perfect guy for you. He wasn’t— he was human, and that was okay for you, more than just okay, but he proved at that very moment that maybe you weren’t right for him.

Another blind date.

You’ve been on countless of blind dates since you officially announced to your family that the guy you’ve been seeing wasn’t... well, you weren’t seeing him anymore. Because of this, your mom thinks that you’re bitter and lonely, fearing that you’ll never find someone. “You’re only twenty-two and can’t even keep a man? We have to start early while we still have time!” 

Luckily, Chanyeol tried backing you out of this one but there’s no argument against your mother. So he suggests doing the matching. You pray he’s not trying to get back at you for stealing the last yogurt cup in the fridge back in 2011.

Getting into your ‘lucky’ signature black mini dress was a bit harder than usual— you want to blame it on the relationship weight gain but you admit that your healthy habits have been lacking. After sucking in a deeper breath, the dress finally zips. Smoothing out the crevasses on the skirt of your attire, you give yourself a last check in the mirror before giving yourself a grin and a thumbs up. “OK, I got this.”

The door bell rings; assuming it’s your date, you quickly slide open your closet doors to find your heels until a familiar laugh perks up your ears. It’s none other than Baekhyun.

“You... look like you were standing by the door waiting for someone and I’m pretty sure I made this a surprise visit.” Peering out into the hallway, you can see his figure standing at the door frame, dressed in a hoodie, ripped jeans, and a trench coat... why does he make it so hard to hate him?

Chanyeol shakes his head, standing aside for his friend to enter. “Jongin is supposed to be here sometime soon.”

“Oh, you made plans with him?”

“Nah, setting him up with my sister. I’m free for the rest of the night. You tryna hang?” Baekhyun gives Chanyeol a dazed look of bewilderment. “You’re... setting up your sister with Kim Jongin?” He nods with his lips pursed, confident with his response that his friend seems to question uncertainly. “Yeah. My mom has been on her case lately about having a boyfriend since apparently the guy she was seeing dumped her. She thinks that little Park has some personality issues and it’s going to take some time before she meets someone. I figured I’d give her an easy date, at least Jongin isn’t a dick like the past few guys.”

Baekhyun feels queasy. Were you really moving on that quickly? It was barely a week since he’d last seen you and the visual of you walking away that night haunted his days. “How long ago since it’s been since she and the guy broke up? Couldn’t have been that long, right? Why are you guys already setting her up on dates so soon?”

Chanyeol shrugs his shoulders. “Not sure. Why’s it matter anyway? Jongin is a nice guy anyway and could use some stability in his life.”

“That guy rides a motorcycle and races almost every weekend. You think he’s good for your sister?” His tone spilled in flabbergast. “You don’t think he’s going to influence her?”

“She’s an adult, she can handle herself. I highly doubt he would be influencing her though, pretty sure she would more than likely be influencing him.” Baekhyun can agree to that— after all, he’d fallen victim to that. But he didn’t like the idea of you being with someone else and he definitely wasn’t a fan of seeing you look pretty for a guy like Jongin. “Well, what if I took her out on a date?” He suggests.

Chanyeol can only let out a laugh, leading Baekhyun into the living room. “Yeah right, don’t kid around, Baek. My mom is strict about her looking for suitors; we’re looking for serious inquiries only.”

The doorbell finally rings. “Oh! I think it’s for me— I’ll get it!” Baekhyun’s head pivots to see you rushing out of your room, slipping into your heels the last second with a black leather jacket folded over your arm. He feels the breath stolen from his lungs. 

“Oh. Hey Baekhyun,” You say, a weak smile upon your lips. “I got the door.” 

Standing at the door with a loose dress shirt tucked in his slacks, with a couple buttons undone; Jongin’s sun-kissed tan skin is exposed from underneath, hair slicked back in gel with a bright grin on his face. “Hey, pretty.” Voice deep and smooth, goosebumps appearing on your arms. “Hi.” 

“Jongin.” He startles you from behind, bumping you aside before giving his friend a handshake. “Taking little Park out? Per Chanyeol’s request?” Jongin only nods, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “Yes, but... I did it willingly. After all, look how beautiful she looks.” Baekhyun snaps his fingers to regain his attention. “Where are you taking her?”

“Surprise.” He says nonchalantly, noting Baekhyun’s sudden possessiveness. “Where’s Yeol? Told him I’d say my goodbyes before I take her out tonight.” Saved by the presence of Chanyeol, you finally let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Despite the height difference, Baekhyun was attempting to size up Jongin, although lacking a bit from the towering younger male. “Whoa, what’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” They both say in unison, but Chanyeol only chuckles at the sight of his two friends. “Well, thanks for doing this for me Jongin, I’m sure you made both mine and my sister’s night a little easier.”

“Well, drive safe when you go.” Baekhyun says through his gritted teeth. Words that were once so affectionate and caring now had a different meaning behind them.

Standing by the door with his arms crossed on his chest, Baekhyun scowls while Chanyeol leans against the frame. Jongin hands over to you the spare helmet on the backseat of his motorcycle (which by the way... hot) before hopping on. Settling comfortably behind him, he lifts up his arms and although Baekhyun can’t hear what Jongin’s saying, he already knows the words. Wrap your arms around me so you don’t fall off. Right on cue because your arms snake around his frame, gripping on as tight as Baekhyun’s jaw clenches.

The restaurant he takes you to is way out of your comfort zone.

There was a comment here and there from Chanyeol that Jongin was from old money, however there wasn’t much brought up after that. Where he brings you on your first date is evident of this; it’s lavishly decorated, dark lighting with a candle that illuminates just the table, freshly picked flowers from their own garden, linen tablecloths and napkins, and to top it off, a classical band plays in the corner. 

“Wow... after telling me to hop onto the back of your motorcycle, I really didn’t expect you to take me here.” He lets out a low snicker, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “A beautiful woman like you deserves a luxurious date as this.”

Jongin is a gentleman. He pulls out your chair for you, opens the car door for you, and when there’s goosebumps on your arm and you shiver at the cool air blowing down at you, he’s observant enough without you saying and asks the waiter to turn off the air.

“Baekhyun Hyung seems like have a thing for you, doesn’t he?”Jongin asks, picking up his knife to saw his steak. “I saw how... protective he was of you.”

“Eh, just an instinct. He and my brother are close, so I’m sure it rubbed off.” You lie. It’s easier to lie.

Jongin isn’t convinced. “No, I’m pretty sure he was giving me daggers with his eyes. Like... boyfriend daggers. As if I was stealing his girl or something.” 

“I’m not really anyone’s to claim,” You say, fork pushing your pasta around. This conversation wasn’t fun and you weren’t in the mood to be in it. After all, you were at this date because Baekhyun didn’t want to be yours in the first place. “Hence why we’re on this date, right? There’s no Baekhyun.”

But for the rest of the night, Jongin doesn’t let it go. He keeps bringing it up, as if Baekhyun is now his competitor and they’re both fighting for a mate. 

You call it a night. Saying that you might’ve eaten something bad during lunch and it wasn’t sitting well in your stomach. So much for an easy date.

“You look... really stressed out dude. Maybe we should go out for drinks tonight or something.” Chanyeol suggests, stirring the sugar in his iced coffee with the plastic straw. “What’s up with you?”

He can’t get you out of his mind. He can’t go to bars, clubs, restaurants... pretty much anywhere; he can’t go anywhere because everything reminds him of you. Baekhyun only agrees to meet up with Chanyeol because he doesn’t want to seem any more suspicious, but it seems that showing up didn’t do much of a difference either.

“Can I ask you something? And you not be mad about it?” Baekhyun blurts, leaning forward in his seat with his arms against the table.

“Uh, sure.” Chanyeol responds, brows furrowed in confusion. “I guess I can’t really control my anger if you’re asking something ridiculous, but shoot.”

“No, I really need you to not be upset about it.”

“... Uh, okay, then I guess continue.”

Baekhyun takes in a deep breath and exhales, so deep that it takes him a while to recover in order to continue the conversation. “I... Would be upset if I told you that I might have feelings for your sister?”

Chanyeol raises a brow. “... Do you really? You’re not joking, right? Because that’s some sick joke—”

“No? At least, I don’t think I am.” Baekhyun says quickly, shaking his head. “Just... can you stop setting her up with these other guys?” His best friend takes a sip of his drink, cringing at the taste before opening the lid to pour more sugar into it. “Okay, I won’t anymore. So what are you going to do now?”

“You— you’re not mad about it?”

Taking a sip of the coffee, he nods in content before closing the lid. “Well, yeah, why would I be mad?” He pauses for a moment, eyes gazing up at Baekhyun’s tired ones. “Wait... you’re not telling me that she’s the reason you’ve been so stressed out, are you? Dude, I sent her out with Jongin! What’d you do?”

“I... I don’t know.” He responds, still appalled by Chanyeol’s calmness surrounding the situation. “But we dated for a bit and I ruined it by telling her that you might not be as supportive about this.”

“Dude...” He clicks his tongue in disbelief. “Why didn’t you just tell me before? Did you already fuck up before it even really started?”

“What else am I supposed to do? What if you said no? Was I to pick between the girl I’m in love with and my best friend?”

“Baek, stop being difficult. She’s old enough to decide things herself. What do you think this is, the Medieval times? Women are capable of making their own decisions— even if she’s my baby sister and something in my stomach really wants to punch you for even laying your eyes on her, but I can’t do that.” Then, there’s a pause. “Did you say you love her?”

“Uh...” He sighs, standing up in his seat and gestures Baekhyun up as well. “Come on, let’s go fix this mess.”

Baekhyun declines, slouching. “I’ve already fucked it up to the point of no return. She blocked my number, doesn’t respond to texts— I couldn’t even come to your house this past week because I knew she would ignore me. I look like a crazed boyfriend with how much I’m trying here.”

“You are a crazed boyfriend, you literally fucked up your chances with her.”

“Which is why I think I should completely give up.”

Rubbing his face in his hands, Chanyeol frustratedly groans. “Honestly, if you’re going to give up so easily, maybe you don’t deserve her.” Baekhyun swallows, anxiously shaking his leg under the table. “What am I supposed to do? Stand outside her house until she has to come out?”

“Well, for one thing, you got her brother’s permission and acceptance of the two of you being together. Isn’t that something? Wasn’t that one of the reasons that stemmed from the conversation?”

Baekhyun grunts, hands furiously ruffling his hair. “It wasn’t only that. I called her immature, Yeol. I told her that she wasn’t mature enough for me.” His best friend stays silent for a moment, so quiet that you could almost hear him blink. “Do you really believe that?”

“Of course not. She’s the most mature twenty two year old I’ve ever met. She has most of her life together than I do, not including the fact that she has more self-assurance than I ever did at that age. But she doesn’t make me feel bad about it either; she wants me to bask in my childish behavior and be myself—“

“—stop talking and save it for her, will you?”

His palms are incredibly sweaty. Wiping the excess moisture on the fabric of his jeans, he tightens his jaw but follows with a deep inhale and exhale afterwards. “Why are you so nervous? I thought you said you liked her and were comfortable with her?” Chanyeol is shuffling through his pockets and filing through the many keys he has for the front door of your parents’ place before a familiar voice is heard behind the wooden material.

“I think it’s Yeol, Dad! I got it—“ The door swings open and the sight of you clenches Baekhyun’s chest.

You’re so pretty; so fucking goddamn pretty. Hair tied back in a loose bun, oversized grey hoodie and black shorts yet the simplest outfit has Baekhyun almost gasping for air. It makes the acidity in his stomach grumble— or his intestines in a knot; he’s not quite sure. One thing he was certain of was that knowing that he was the cause of your tired and sad eyes made his heart drop.

“Oh, hey Baekhyun.” That stung. He missed hearing you call him your baby. “You guys coming in?”

“I’m coming in. But you? Stay out here and talk to Baekhyun.” A blank expression on your face, you blink profusely. “Is everything okay?”

“Apparently not. Seemed like my friend is rather smitten with you. What’d you do? Drug his drink?”

“With what? You think I have to drug your friends to think I’m somewhat pretty?”

“No, I think you have to drug their drinks to get them to fall in love with you. He’s crazy now; I don’t think I want to be around him anymore. You keep him.” His words don’t have an underlying tone that you can pick out but he ends it off with a soft smile before patting your shoulder and walking into the house.

It’s just you and Baekhyun.

“Why’s he talking like that?” You say, ultimately shattering the glass of silence. “He’s acting like I have all his friends by a leash.”

“You have me by a leash.” It’s a quiet again. A heavy empty space of stillness settled over the two of you, thicker than the awkwardness and tension that had never been there before.

“Why are you—“

“You’re home early.” Baekhyun states the obvious, gathering enough courage to speak up. “Bad date?” Sucking in your cheeks, you’re tempted to tell him that it’s none of his business, yet you play along to his game anyway. “No... he was great. He just had a lot to offer when it came to money and I knew I couldn’t reciprocate nor live that life.” He nods as if this information was helpful, knowing that regardless of the turnout of the date, he would still be having this conversation.

“I told Yeol.” Your eyes widen; this is the most of a reaction he has gotten from you in a while and he admits that he misses it. “You what? Are you crazy? It was supposed to be meticulously planned—”

“He said he was okay with it.” Blinking blankly, you’re still hesitant about what to say next. “That... that doesn’t change where we left off.” Distressingly raking his hair with his fingers, he nods. “I know it doesn’t make up for any of the things I said but I still want another shot. I said it in the moment of panic— I had to pick between you and Chanyeol, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“So... what are you trying to say?”

“That what I said the other day, I didn’t mean it. I guess, calling you little Park like I’ve always done made it easy, knowing that I didn’t have to choose between my best friend and the girl I’ve been head over heels for. It gave me enough time to figure out what I wanted to do and... I just ended up ruining it for myself.”

You’re quiet the entire time, hands twiddling with the fabric of your hoodie. Unsure how to feel and uncertain of what to say, you just swallow any words that want to leave your mouth, not wanting to be too easy and let him back into your arms so easily. “Please, say something, say anything. I’m in love with you and honestly, I never thought I’d be in this position. All those girls I’ve dated—none of them made me feel in comparison to you.” His voice is wavering; you assume it’s from him being nervous.

“Baek, I don’t want to get hurt again.” You say softly, almost in a whisper. “You made me feel so stupid that day. I put you on this pedestal, I thought so highly of you—“

“Don’t do that,” He interrupts, stepping closer to you. “Don’t think so highly of me because I already broke your heart once. I made you wait so long and never realized your feelings for me. You’re the one that I should be putting on a pedestal.” Tears begin to well in your eyes again—Baekhyun’s the reason again, but it’s the opposite from before.

“I picked my nose before opening the door and wiped it on the doorknob before coming out because I knew Chanyeol was going to touch it. Are you sure about that?” He laughs, arms wrapping around your frame before pulling you against his chest. “Exactly what I looked for in a girlfriend. Someone who would torture my best friend.”

“I think I’m ready to move out.”

“Oh wow,” You say, slightly impressed. “You’re like what, 29? You probably should have your own place by now. Instead, you’ve been living at your parents’ house, trying to steal your sister’s last can of coke from the fridge. And you didn’t even bother to replace it!” Baekhyun chuckles at the siblings arguing, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Nobody asked you to drink so much of it. It’s bad for your heath.”

“You’re just saying that because you can’t handle my hits. You want me to be weaker.”

“Rightfully so.” He attacks back, sticking his tongue at you. “Man, ever since Baek started dating you, he won’t even stand by me anymore. I felt like I had more confidence knowing that he might back me up.” His friend shakes his head. “I never did though, I let you guys just fight.” Chanyeol groans. “Whatever. Anyway, I think I should look for a roommate temporarily before completely moving out on my own.”

Baekhyun sits up on the couch. “You could always come live with me, you know.” Your older brother scoffs, shaking his head. “Nah, not after you started dating my sister. I’m only half okay with this, I’m not sure how I’d feel hearing your bedpost banging on the wall.”

“What— why would you even bring that up!”

Chanyeol sighs disappointingly, leaning back. “Man, I miss when Baek used to date other girls. He’d talk about how wild some of them were, how his flings were… he lived the life I wanted to live—ouch! Did you just throw the controller at me?” He winces, rubbing his head. “What was that for?”

“Are you seriously talking about his past sexual encounters in front of me, you asshole?”

“Okay but Baek—“ Baekhyun raises his hands in defeat. “I don’t know if I’m cool with you bringing this up with my current girlfriend, dude.”

“This is a losing battle, isn’t it?”

[fangirlandiknowit101]

Here's the sad pining sasuke i wrote last night... it's not finished and who knows when/if i'll finish it. university AU, not edited and there's some naru//hina and sasuke//OC bc i couldn't think of a canon character that fit. The texting part is also weird bc i wrote it all very fast lol. i'm sharing bc why not *shrugs*

xxx

It hurts, to look at them.

Sasuke can’t help himself. Naruto is his best friend, after all, and he’s not yet so desperate that he’ll avoid him. It’s worse, somehow, that he can’t even dislike her.

She’s good for him, he thinks, when he’s feeling particularly self-deprecating. Her hair is dark and her skin pale as porcelain, and that’s where the similarities end between him and Hinata.

Sweet, and so patient with Naruto. Soft-spoken, but not a pushover. Impeccably dressed, always, no make-up needed to outshine any girl beside her. A picture perfect couple, that’s what they are. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t have to watch it unfold from the front row.

How her shyness turned to surety, how her eyes would catch on Naruto and look away before, but now – now she looks at him like he belongs to her, soft smile on her plump lips.

Sasuke can’t even hate her, and he wishes he could.

It’s not her fault that Sasuke is the way he is. She doesn’t know, isn’t doing it on purpose. And yet, there’s a stab to Sasuke’s chest every time she takes his hand, every time Naruto tucks her silky hair behind her perfect ear.

Naruto will kiss her cheek and Sasuke will be looking, always looking. His face devoid of emotion, his voice carefully neutral. He can’t be mean to Naruto’s girlfriend, though he wishes he could. Maybe if Naruto got mad at him and pushed him away, Sasuke would be free to move on.

It’s more likely that Sasuke would apologize and do better, and he’d rather spare himself the embarrassment.

Sometimes he imagines that Hinata will find out, that she’ll start treating him with suspicion, watch his every move with her wide eyes. Feel threatened by him. But Sasuke is no threat. He’s tired and hurting, but he’s not a homewrecker. It would be a lot easier if Naruto didn’t keep nudging him in Sakura’s direction.

It’s not Sakura’s fault, either. She’s dreaming of something she can’t have, and the similarities make him sick to his stomach.

Sometimes he thinks he’ll date her, live the lie to the fullest. Give her what she wants, since he’s doomed anyway. He doubts he’d last long, though. If he had even the slightest bit of interest in women – but when he looks at her, there’s just no attraction. He’s not sure how no one’s noticed yet. It’s not like he’s that good of an actor. He thinks the only reason no one’s figured it out is because he’s so deep in the closet, and they’re all so heterosexual. Why would they suspect he’s gay? It suits them better if he isn’t.

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was that late already,” Sakura says beside him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

The bar is lively around them, but the music is at a bearable noise level. She’s looking at her phone, frowning. On the other side of the small table, Naruto pouts.

“It’s not late!” he objects, the beer in his glass sloshing around as he waves his hands around. “We just got here!”

“We’ve been here for three hours, I think,” Hinata says, leaning her cheek on his shoulder.

Sasuke wonders how she manages, the way he moves around so much. Perhaps her body is as soft as her voice, easily following him.

“I told you I have to get up early tomorrow.” Sakura sighs, irritated. She fishes her bag up from the floor, putting her phone inside it. “I really have to get going.”

“I’ll walk you to the station,” Sasuke offers. Not because he particularly wants to, but he’s not in the mood to subject himself to third-wheeling Naruto and Hinata. “I should get going, anyway.”

“What?” Naruto looks disappointed, more disappointed than when Sakura announced her departure. “I thought you were free tomorrow.”

Rolling his eyes, Sasuke swallows down the last of his drink.

“Doesn’t mean I want to stay up all night,” he counters with, easing out of the booth. “I still have to study.”

“You study too much,” Naruto mutters, giving Hinata a smile like an afterthought when she squeezes his arm.

“Maybe if you studied at all you wouldn’t need to panic before every exam,” Sakura nags at him, coming around the table to wait next to Sasuke. “Some of us care about our grades.”

“Nerds.” At least Naruto looks a little happier, and Sasuke hates to think that it’s because he thinks anything’s going to happen between him and Sakura. “Don’t get lost, you two!”

They say their goodbyes, and Sasuke tries to pretend he doesn’t notice how Sakura’s cheeks fill with color when they step outside the bar. She’s put a jacket on, but Sasuke’s fine in his sweater. It’s not cold enough that her blush can be blamed on the weather.

“Thanks for walking me,” she says, hefting her bag higher up her shoulder. She’d joined them straight from the library, researching her latest paper. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine,” he tells her, hands tucked into his sleeves.

He doesn’t want to run the risk of her attempting to reach for his hand. As much as he dislikes her attention, it’s safer if she thinks he’s just playing hard to get. He won’t have to explain, then, why he hasn’t outright told her to give up. He should, he knows. But Naruto would just nudge him towards some other girl, would bother him about it until Sasuke started going on actual dates. It’s touching, how worried he is over Sasuke potentially being lonely.

Too bad Naruto himself is the cause of it.

“You’re not doing anything tomorrow, then?” Sakura asks, stepping aside as they meet a group of half-drunk businessmen. “I’m working until five…”

It would be so easy to invite her out. To suggest a movie, or trying out that new café near campus. To watch her eyes light up with hope, watch her mouth stretch into an excited smile.

“I really do need to study,” he says. “And I’m almost out of clean clothes.”

None of it is a lie, technically. He’s just not sure he’ll actually do either of those things tomorrow.

“Oh.”

She tries to hide her disappointment, and Sasuke is an expert by now at pretending he doesn’t notice. They walk the rest of the way in silence, waving a quick goodbye at the ticket gates as Sakura’s train is due to arrive in just two minutes. Sasuke buys a drink from a vending machine and takes small sips as he waits for his own, mindlessly scrolling through social media. He almost ignores the text Naruto sends.

> Wanna hang out tomorrow?

He contemplates it. On the one hand, yes, of course he wants to. On the other, having an entire day to himself has its appeal.

> I’ll be busy

> Ooh, with sakura?

The train arrives, and Sasuke snags a seat next to a couple too caught up with each other to pay attention to him.

> No

> Got studying and laundry to do

The reply is instant.

> That’s too boring!!! I’m coming over for lunch

> Whatever

He pockets his phone, and stares down at the bottle in his hands for the rest of the trip. It doesn’t help against the warmth rising in his chest. At least he doesn’t do this to Sakura – doesn’t invite himself into her space, ignorant of her feelings. It doesn’t make him feel better.

xxx

Sasuke doesn’t have a lot of friends. He’s got Naruto, and then there’s his small group of friends from high school. Naruto is the only one who still lives nearby. Rather, Sasuke had ended up staying in Konoha like him. It’s a big enough city that most of his classmates are strangers, although slightly less so in their second year. He stayed with his parents for his first year, but when one of his cousins moved abroad for work he took the opportunity to stay at her apartment instead. It’s closer to his university, and if he, potentially, wanted to bring a guy home then no one would know.

He doesn’t think his parents would mind, but there wouldn’t be any privacy. He relishes in it, and Naruto does, too.

“I should just move in with you,” Naruto groans, spread out on his couch. “You wouldn’t believe how annoying my mom was this morning.”

“I think I can believe it,” Sasuke tells him, cleaning up after their lunch. “And just to be clear, I’ve never said you’d be welcome to live here.”

“Stingy,” Naruto grumbles. “How long is your cousin gone, anyway?”

Shrugging, Sasuke dries off the counter just for something to do with his hands.

“A year at least. We’ll see. So it’s not like I’ll be living here forever.”

“But still!”

“Where would you even sleep?”

Naruto happily pats the couch. When Sasuke scowls at him, he simply grins.

“Come on,” Naruto says. “I want to watch a movie.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I need to study.”

Still, he gives in too easily. Naruto lifts his legs to give him room, dumping them all over Sasuke’s lap once he sits down. It’s things like this that makes Sasuke’s heart refuse to give up. He leans his elbow on the back of the couch, cheekbone pressed to his closed fist. He doesn’t say anything when Naruto picks a drama at random, letting him comment on the plot as much as he wants. Watching movies with Naruto is certainly never quiet, and he winces as Naruto kicks his legs as he shouts his anger at the main character.

When the movie ends, Naruto doesn’t start a new one. Instead he chews on his bottom lip, playing with the remote. Sasuke considers getting up to use the toilet, maybe suggesting going to the corner store for snacks, but then Naruto clears his throat suspiciously.

“What?” he asks, irritated when Naruto takes his time.

“So, how are things going with Sakura?”

He resists the urge to pinch his nose. He still lets out a heavy breath, not quite a sigh but close enough that Naruto frowns.

“I mean,” Naruto continues, “you could just ask her out. She’s definitely going to say yes.”

Sasuke shifts, uncomfortable. Naruto’s legs are still on top of his. His socks have little frogs on them.

“I’ve told you I’m not really into the idea of a relationship right now.”

“Uh-huh.” Naruto rolls his eyes, pushing himself up and finally removing his legs, crossing them at the ankles instead. “Sounds like excuses to me.”

“Just drop it, Naruto.”

“But if you get together things will be so much easier,” Naruto insists, poking at his arm. “We can go on double dates, and stuff.”

Sending him a glare, Sasuke pulls a leg up to his chest. It won’t prevent Naruto if he decides to get comfy on his lap again, but it might make him think twice at least. Naruto’s only wearing shorts, and all that naked skin isn���t good for his heart. It’s definitely too cold for it, but Naruto’s never been one to care about the weather.

“We already go places together.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same!”

Sasuke pinches his lips, looking away. If he’s not careful, those large blue eyes will convince him to cave in, and then he’ll find himself with a girlfriend. He does a lot for Naruto, but there are limits.

“I’m not going to ask her out,” he mutters, knowing it will only lead to more questioning.

Sure enough, Naruto makes a noise of protest.

“But you haven’t rejected her either!”

“She hasn’t asked me out either.”

“It’s obvious she likes you.”

“That’s her problem.”

Naruto kicks at his thigh, using his heel. He looks properly annoyed now, as if Sasuke is a petulant child, refusing to do what’s best for him.

“If you got over yourself for a minute, you’d realize what a catch she is!”

He doesn’t reply. Let Naruto think he’s just stubborn, or an asshole, or whatever. Let him think Sasuke’s just stringing her along, keeping her attention while refusing to commit. It’s better than the alternative.

“Leave it, Naruto,” he warns, getting up and moving to the kitchen. “We’re not talking about this.”

At least Naruto doesn’t follow him, though it doesn’t make much of a difference. The apartment is small, no wall separating the kitchen from the living room. He searches through his cabinets, locating a forgotten bag of wasabi peas. He throws them at Naruto’s head.

“Eat these and shut up,” he says.

To his relief, Naruto does as told.

xxx

He picks up the call from Karin half-distracted, mind still stuck on a question for tomorrow’s seminar. As usual, she doesn’t wait for him to say hi, making her wince with the volume of her voice.

“Do you have any idea how tiring it is to listen to Naruto whine about you?” she starts with, the background noise suggesting she’s outdoors. “Can’t you just tell him you’re gay and put me out of my misery.”

“No thanks.” He drops his pen on his desk, rubbing at his eyes. He regrets not going to the university library, at least then he wouldn’t have been able to pick up the call. “Was that all? I’m kind of busy.”

“You know, this is exactly why I moved away,” she continues, ignoring him. “I thought I could get away from all the high school-level drama. Just get yourself a boyfriend, and go on those stupid double dates my cousin is so desperately yearning for. How hard can it be?!”

He can feel a headache incoming, and he rubs his fingertips between his brows. Naruto had sulked for hours the day before, until Sasuke got sick of it and threw him out. It was definitely backhanded of him to call Karin and complain.

“If you really wanted to be left out of it, why are you calling me? That’s the opposite of not getting involved.”

“Because it’s really painful and I’m morally obligated as the only person with functional brain cells to tell you to move on. Juugo’s too nice to say it and Suigetsu would give you terrible advice and sit back and watch. I’m being nicer to you than you deserve.”

“By telling me to move on,” Sasuke deadpans, wondering why his parents couldn’t have settled down somewhere else.

“Well, someone has to do it! Clearly I’m the gay cousin in the family, so you’re screwed. Might as well get over it and get laid.”

“I really hate you sometimes, you know that?”

She huffs at him, traffic and broken conversations filtering through the phone. There’s the jingle of a shop’s door, and the noise cuts off.

“Your pining is just getting sad,” she eventually replies, distractedly. “Trust me, I know my cousin. He’s not worth it.”

Something unpleasant churns in Sasuke’s stomach. He wants to argue with her that he is worth it, but he doesn’t want to land himself in an hour-long lecture if he can help it. He rolls his neck, making a face. She’s got a point, but he doesn’t enjoy hearing it. His life would be a lot simpler if he could find someone who made him forget about Naruto. He’s just not sure it’s fair to expect someone to instantly replace a lifetime of friendship.

“I don’t think I should have to come out just because Naruto irritates you,” is what he says instead, leaning back in his chair. “What if my parents find out and disown me? You want to be responsible for that?”

“Sasuke,” she sighs, “your brother is literally gay and your parents love his boyfriend.”

“So?”

“Stop. Making. Excuses.”

He bites his cheek, holding back a denial. He’s not worried about his parents, he’s worried about Naruto’s reaction. That things will change between them. That he’ll think Sasuke has feelings for him, which would be correct but would also ruin absolutely everything.

“I’ll… consider it,” he concedes, after a long silence, during which Karin has finished buying whatever it was she needed.

“Really? Because I’m going to hold you to that.”

He sighs.

“Next time I’m not picking up when you call me.”

xxx

A few weeks pass, and not much changes. Naruto still takes up too much space in his head and life, Sakura continues to drop hints but refuses to make the first move, and Hinata is still as lovely as ever. She doesn’t seem to have much of a personality other than being Naruto’s girlfriend, but to be fair Sasuke hasn’t precisely paid attention or tried to get to know her. Naruto’s birthday is drawing closer, and he can’t bring himself to do anything to break the status quo before then.

He’s been considering it, though. It would be a relief to stop pretending. He can’t imagine himself finding a boyfriend, though, because where would he even meet someone? It’s too awkward to use a dating app, and he’s not precisely social. He doesn’t have any experience, either, if you don’t count those childish games they played sometimes when they were younger. And that one time Naruto kissed him by accident when they were twelve.

Because of this, he’s really not expecting it when one day in class, just as the lecture ends, his eyes fall on the messenger bag that the guy next to him has just finished packing. There’s a rainbow pin on it, and Sasuke blurts out his question before he can stop to think about it.

“Are you gay?”

He only lifts his eyes from the pin when the surprised silence stretches out a bit too long. Their eyes meet, and the other boy is staring at him like he’s not sure how to react.

“Uh,” he says eventually, fingers clenching around the bag’s strap. “I mean, yes? But if you’re thinking about the pin it’s just a regular rainbow…”

He trails off, and Sasuke feels his cheeks heat up a bit. He can’t believe he just asked, when he himself has gone to such lengths to make sure no one made such assumptions about him.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s fine.”

Maybe he should know the guy’s name, but he doesn’t. He’s pretty short, hair dyed a light brown and glasses perched on his nose. Cute, but Sasuke’s not sure he’s his type. He’s not sure he has a type, other than Naruto.

“Are you gay?” the guy asks him, eyebrows rising above the frame of his glasses.

Sasuke licks his lips. He could say no, but to what end?

“I am,” he forces out, breathing in a deep breath.

“Oh.” There’s red color blooming on the other boy’s face, his eyes flickering to the side for a moment. “I was kind of hoping, but, um… I mean, hoping sounds weird! Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to ask outright.”

When Sasuke stands up, he realizes he’s almost a head taller than him.

“I’m Sasuke,” he offers, clicking his laptop shut and slowly sliding it into his bag.

“I know. I mean! I’m Hiroshi. Nice to meet you.”

Sasuke nods, and awkwardly turns to leave. Hiroshi stops him with a hand to his arm, though, and Sasuke swallows nervously as the turns back. He’s not interested in Hiroshi, not really, but he’s never been asked out by a boy before and the novelty of the situation is getting to him.

“Do you, um, are you busy right now? We could have lunch?”

He weighs the pros and cons in his mind. As nervous as Hiroshi looks, there’s a determined glint in his eyes that sways Sasuke over.

“Okay,” he says, and just like that he’s doing what Karin told him to do.

He’s trying, at least.

xxx

Over the course of a week, including having coffee together and a visit to the aquarium, Sasuke learns a lot about Hiroshi. Or Hiro, as he likes his friends to call him. They don’t have too much in common, but they’re both gay and studying agricultural economics. Once Hiro gets over his initial shyness, Sasuke finds he’s got a great sense of humor and won’t hesitate to poke fun at him.

It’s a breath of relief, to spend time with someone who doesn’t know him from before. He didn’t realize how much he needed it – just being able to be himself, without constantly keeping himself in check.

He can’t fool himself to think it’s enough to replace Naruto, but maybe he doesn’t need to replace him. Maybe it’s enough that Hiro seems to like him. He doesn’t really think about it, when he invites Hiro over on a Saturday night, after they’d had dinner at a nice udon place.

“Oh, wow,” Hiro says as he steps into Sasuke’s apartment, making an impressed face. “Nice place.”

“It’s my cousin’s, so no need to sound so impressed.”

Hiro rolls his eyes, taking off his shoes and jacket and following Sasuke inside.

“Alright, I’ll try to keep it in,” he teases, sitting on the couch when Sasuke motions him towards it. “But it must be nice, to have your own place like this. The dorms are fine, but I can’t exactly bring guys there.”

Humming his agreement, Sasuke grabs two cans of soda from the fridge, handing one of them to Hiro when he sinks down on the couch next to him.

“Want to watch something?”

Hiro nods, and Sasuke brings the TV to life. He’s not expecting anything to happen – they’ve only known each other a week. He’s still coming to terms with having a friend other than Karin he can talk to like this, and she doesn’t really count since there was never the potential for anything to happen between them. Hiro is… potentially someone Sasuke could date. At least there’s nothing wrong with him, not yet, and Sasuke’s easing himself into the idea of getting to know him better.

He finds a movie at random, some sci-fi that doesn’t look terrible. The movie turns into background noise as they talk, Hiro’s eyes watching his face more than the screen. It’s nice, in a new, exhilarating way, to have a guy’s attention on him like this. He’s not sure what to do with it. When Hiro moves closer, knee touching Sasuke’s thigh, hand resting on the back of the couch and occasionally touching his neck, Sasuke can’t find it in him to move away.

It feels like a secret, shared between the two of them. He thinks of Naruto for a long moment, allows himself the pain lacing through his chest as he imagines light brown hair replaced with blond, dark eyes replaced with blue. Then, he pushes it away, tells himself he can have this. The emotions are only his own.

It’s all happening too fast when Hiro grows bold, leaning in to press their mouths together, but he doesn’t care. It’s no one’s business if he spends the evening on his couch with a boy in his lap, a boy who isn’t his best friend.

The pain is easier to swallow if he tells himself that he’s the only one hurt.

[arse-crack-thistle]

gifts

rwrb and the five love languages | part two

in which june struggles to have a nice valentine’s date with nora

June never expected to care this much about a stupid holiday like Valentine’s Day, but here she is, practically renovating the apartment to give her girlfriend a perfect night. She strings LED lights around the entire living room ceiling and uses Command hooks to drape the sheer, white Ikea curtains she bought on sale months ago in preparation for this. The lights glow pink through the curtains, making the usually neutral-toned living room appear like Aphrodite’s palace. June’s moved the coffee table into her room and replaced it with a fluffy blanket and a picnic set-up to rival TikTok lesbians.  All she needs now is Nora, if only she weren’t stuck at school.

The texts say, Will be late! Data mining for the gods! [Monet X Change gif] I want to be home with you though. Will bring noodles! And chocolate! Scratch that, I ate the chocolate. Sorry.

June knows she shouldn’t be annoyed because Nora has no idea what she’s coming home to. She also knows who she got into a relationship with—a brilliant mind that’s constantly moving parsecs a minute and has a hard time communicating her feelings. June has to remind herself that Nora loves her even if she doesn’t always show it.

That’s what tonight is for. It’ll give them time to slow down and just be together. Break the routine. Talk or not talk. She doesn’t expect it to be mushy or obnoxious—June isn’t a super, flowery romantic herself—but she does want another sentimental moment to hold onto forever.

Like the night of the 2020 election over a year ago. After Alex and Henry slipped away and everyone else was celebrating in their own groups, Nora pulled June into a storage closet at the venue and kissed her point blank, leaving no questions in her mind that their dabbles the months before meant something more than spectacular.

Or like six months ago when Nora asked her if she wanted to move in with her. She didn’t do anything particularly special, but she slammed her laptop shut while June was throwing on one of her sweatshirts and asked her to stay—to take the second bedroom because Nora needs space sometimes—but to stay with her because she was her favorite person. June answered with a happy “yes,” and Nora got up and kissed her. They didn’t talk much more about it; June just packed up her room at the White House and let the world think they were very best friends.

June pours a glass of wine and waits on the couch, flipping through social media. A few hours ago, her brother posted a picture from the Valentine’s gala he and Henry threw for the London queer youth center. Alex, Henry, Bea, Catherine, and even Philip and Martha hold champagne flutes with cheeky smiles on their faces. The POTUS account has a sweet yet posed picture of her mother and Leo. She likes everything she sees, from the various celebrities she follows to the photos she’s tagged in by fans. The time on her phone reminds her Nora’s now over an hour late.

She texts her, Home soon?

Ten minutes later her phone dings. Need more time. Almost done!

You are aware it’s Valentine’s, yes? And that we had plans?

Yes!!!! But flexible plans, right? Not like we can’t eat noodles and make out later. Will leave soon though. Promise.

I got food covered. Just get home please.

June sighs. She thought she made it clear this morning that they deserved a night with no distractions. God, they need to talk; she’s afraid to, but nothing will get better if she doesn’t say anything and if they don’t try.

The charcuterie board spread she copied off of Pinterest has been sitting out for a while so she moves it from the floor to the fridge. “Soon” for Nora could mean an hour. Empty coffee mugs line the sink. An open pack of weed gummies sits on the counter, hardening. Binders of paperwork and schoolwork collect on the kitchen table. There’s so much Nora in here. June redecorated the living room and kitchen when she moved in, but Nora’s managed to touch everything.

She smiles. If this were Alex, she’d be pissed at the mess, but it’s Nora. The beautiful, erratic mess that is Nora. The girl who can have four different shows on at once and can still get shit done. The girl who always burns pancakes when she tries to cook breakfast for June. The girl who never fails to kiss her first.

June won’t lose her. So she sits down on the floor, runs her fingers over the fleece, and waits. And drinks more wine.

Sometime later, when a key turns in the lock, she downs the last sip in her glass and sets it down. Some old love songs play from her phone, the ones she and Nora love to make fun of. She hears her girlfriend curse when her key gets stuck, and then she bursts through the door and catches herself before she could slip on the hardwood.

“I know you said you got food covered, but I got noodles any—Whoa! You did all of this?” Nora walks into the living room with takeout bags in her hands and stares, mesmerized, at the ceiling. Her contacts must’ve been bothering her because she has on her back-up glasses.

“Hi. Happy Valentine’s Day,” June says and reaches for Nora’s hand to pull her down.

“I’m sorry, June. I had no idea. I thought we both hated this holiday, so tonight wasn’t that big of a deal. But this—this is beautiful,” Nora says, having a hard time meeting June’s eyes.

“Thanks.” June rubs Nora’s hand with her thumb. “And this isn’t really about the holiday. I just wanted to give something nice to you—to us—just us. With no distractions.”

The strings from “At Last” by Etta James play from the phone. The curtains billow from the air blowing out the vent. As much as she hates to ruin the moment, June has to start the conversation.

But Nora takes a deep breath and talks first. “I know I’m a bit all over the place but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I just have a lot going on.”

“I know, but sometimes it feels like you don’t care about us as much as I do. It feels like an afterthought to you,” June says.

“That’s not true, June! Come on! You know me.” She grabs June’s other hand and squeezes.

She squeezes back. “You don’t act with feelings in mind, but I know you have them. And I know it’s hard for you, but I need you to share them with me more. I need a reminder that you care every once in a while.”

Nora’s quiet. She uses her arm to wipe her eyes, knocking her glasses off.  “I—I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

June’s chest collapses. She wraps Nora up in her arms. “I’m sorry, Nor. I don’t mean you’re not enough for me. I love you so much. I—”

“No, I understand. I just—I need help with that. I need you to tell me when you need more—maybe not after the fact like now but—”

June laughs and pulls away. “You’re right. I have a stewing problem. I just assume you’ll eventually get it.”

“Yeah, don’t assume that.” Nora laughs too—the big kind that shows all of her teeth. “Reign me in when I’ve been off for too long. And know it’s not on purpose. I’m seriously spiraling in my own head the majority of the time.”

“Ha! And a hot head it is too.”

They both pause and look into each other’s eyes. And bust out into laughing fits. June makes a fart sound with her mouth, and Nora tackles her. They rumble around on the blanket for about forty seconds before June’s wine glass tips over and surprisingly bounces instead of shattering.

The girls take that as an opportunity to stop and pour some more glasses of wine. Nora preps the takeout while June brings the charcuterie board back to the indoor picnic. Nora changes the music to some weird techno shit, but June snatches the phone. They compromise with One Direction, which makes no sense since 1. June only knows their last album and 2. Nora definitely remembers the story of June turning down the advances of one Niall Horan when she did the daytime talk show circuit after her book deal was announced.

Either way, they stuff their faces and end up cuddled on the floor.

Nora interrupts the moment. “Before we get to sexy time—"

“Jesus Christ.”

“I just wanted to give you something. I would’ve saved it for your birthday, but I can get you something else.” She pops up from the floor and jogs to her bedroom. When she reemerges, she’s carrying a bunched-up blanket. “I didn’t have time to properly wrap it because—you know, you weren’t going to get it yet—although, it probably wouldn’t’ve been wrapped later either—but anyways, happy Valentine’s Day.”

She crouches down and hands over the present. She smiles and bops up and down in anticipation. June unwraps the blanket and sees a book.

It’s one of those photobooks you can get at Walgreens, and on the cover, it reads, “Catalina June Claremont-Diaz and Nora Elizabeth Holleran are NOT good friends…” June flips it over. “They’re fucking GIRLFRIENDS!” Inside is page after page of pictures as early as the day they first met and as recent as New Year’s Eve a month ago. A lot of candid pics they take of each other—Nora’s favorites. A lot of sleepy, cuddle pics—June’s favorites. It’s so perfect.

“Nora—this is—wow.” She feels the tears coming. No one has given her anything like this before.

“I’ll be better—”

“So will I.”

“No matter where my head’s at, I’m always thinking of you—just 50 million other things as well,” Nora says and cups her chin.

June leans in. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Nora kisses her, and everything wound up in June relaxes. Her body is so warm. “Best Song Ever” starts playing.

Cue sexy time.

check out the rest of my rwrb and the five love languages series: part one, part three, part four, and part five. (links to come as they’re released)

so this could be for quality time or gifts, but i decided to go with gifts since i had no other ideas for it! it’s definitely not my love language (quality time for the win!) but i had to write something lol. so i made it sapphic bc everything gay is better! <3

rwrb romance week | @rwrb-fests

[jimmymcgools]

From ch 17, "Through his airplane window once, Albuquerque had looked like an afterthought, dwarfed by the sky." all the way to the absolutely perfect ending! (since I'm about to chonk on this chapter 🥰❤️)

♥️💙♥️💙 thank you so much! this one got long, wow 

fic commentary meme and my answers

i am WEAK for an indulgent callback and this ending is the most indulgent and callbacky thing i’ve ever done. i really hoped it would give the chapter a sense of closure and finality -- or at least that’s the excuse i gave myself to go absolutely ham. 

Through his airplane window once, Albuquerque had looked like an afterthought, dwarfed by the sky.

i didn’t do it deliberately at the time i wrote chapter one, but at some point i noticed that interesting quirk of jimmy’s very first observation of abq. it’s all sky and mountains and nothing of the actual city: “Albuquerque makes a disgustingly beautiful first impression: the sky as big and curved and blue as he’s always heard it can be, streaked with paintbrush clouds.” 

It had looked like something ready to be forgotten

another callback to chapter 1. “Here, the architecture feels almost temporary, as if it’s been carelessly dropped on some enormous play-mat and forgotten.” i always try to use jimmy’s observations of abq to reflect how he feels about himself at that point. 

along with the thought of the heavy suitcases that he’d watched slip and shift in the overhead lockers before takeoff

i don’t think it really stands out enough to be anything, but i was stuck for list items here and i ended up trying to fold in some of that slippin’ jimmy gaze. the idea that maybe he’s not only looking at people to read them / figure out how he could scam them, but looking for these liability insurance $$ payouts waiting to happen. 

... along with the thought of their drive out to O’Hare, Jimmy silent in the passenger seat of the rental car, the radio off and Chuck’s grip tight on the steering wheel. 

oops--just remembered jimmy says chuck’s waiting in a taxi! 

Jimmy had listened to the line ring for what felt like forever, each silver chime spinning a silver thread across the city, winding toward his mother’s living room. 

more damn callbacks! when he thinks about calling his mother in chapter 9: “He imagines a line emerging from the handset, a thin silvery thread spinning off from his room and his street and then out of Albuquerque, crossing over the Sandias and shooting northeastward, over rivers and fields and Dust Bowl states, until finally arriving in Cicero, in his mother’s living room.” 

It echoed through the handset like it was being piped back to him, like the prison phone was just a sick joke, a closed loop, locked inside

so much of acb is jimmy trying to break out of these closed loops 

In a bright and steady voice, or at least his brightest and steadiest, he had said, “Hey, Mom. Something’s happened.”

law offices of james m mcgill, how may i direct your call! 🙂

It seems unfamiliar at first, but then the city starts to take shape, and he thinks he can see the squat skyscrapers of downtown, the geometric cubes that rise from the flat land. 

i wanted this to be the end point of a series, where jimmy’s first impression is the beginning, and him arriving back from cicero is the middle, and now only here is he finally familiar with the city. the next few sentences are kind of a walk through acb -- "squat skyscrapers of downtown” is similar to how jimmy sees the city in chapter 7 when they go to the movies, then we get central avenue/route 66 “historic and neon-glowed”, and then finally the airport on the “desert shore” like in chapter 14. 

Might even see Chuck’s house, still lit by lantern light. 

ofc jimmy’s thinking of the luminarias but the dramatic irony here was too good to pass up 🔥🔥🔥

And in the west now, clouds. As the sun vanishes below the horizon, they become briefly clear, shadowed with lilac and orange, and Jimmy can see their shape by the light on them. 

you’re going to have to forgive me for how damn metaphorical this is gonna get, but thinking of metaphors is one of the big ways i spark ideas for description, and this ending is really just an enormous chunk of description, so 💀

these clouds. these damn clouds. ever since hamlin snr told jimmy to find a space in the world only he can can fit, jimmy’s thoughts have kept returning to that idea -- and his mother’s innocent words, too: “you were really in no shape”. so the idea that, if he can figure out what shape he is, he’ll know which space he can fit.

and throughout the fic when i was stuck on kim description i’d play with light, and the idea of kim being a source of light, like the sun. the fireworks sequence is a big example, where i wanted to make her as bright as the fireworks, or at the holiday party: “Beneath the hanging Christmas lights, she’s luminous.” 

so when i wrote “and Jimmy can see their shape by the light on them” i was thinking about him seeing the shape of himself and therefore his place in the world because of kim. 

... but the clouds only become briefly clear.

(it’s also a little bit of inspired/stolen phrasing from the end of no country for old men: “and i could see the horn from the light inside of it.”)

If he watched for long enough, he thinks that he could also see them moving slowly, driven by high winds.

oh did you think i was done talking about these clouds? ☁️☁️☁️

this from chapter 11: “A display entitled Surviving in a Moving Landscape shows how the dunes can shift almost forty feet a year in places, driven by high winds”

“surviving in a moving landscape” ♥️ i always thought that was a really nice way to look at the characters of bcs. they’re the animals in the dunes having to adapt to survive, but also the dunes themselves. moving slowly because of these intangible forces on them, adapting to the forces, but changing forever for it. 

The winds move through him, too, hollowing him out.

a future callback, i borrowed "hollowing him out” again for chapter 5 of safs, so keep an eye out 👁

In the darkness, the flat land below the Sandias seems to go on forever, black and flickering with dying embers: scorched earth. 

if i had seen this specific image of abq from the sandias before i wrote the chapter, the light on the clouds would’ve been the city lights of abq -- even BETTER than the sunset! look at it! LOOK!

He can even smell them on the wind: the woodsmoke scent of evening

jimmy thinks of night smelling like woodsmoke on their drive along route 66, and then again on the forecourt of clines corners. bringing that back here with the idea that it’s coming from those imaginary fires of the city lights. 

And he thinks that his whole life since arriving in Albuquerque has been like a controlled burn: searing away the silk shirts and the fake Rolexes and the ice of Michigan Avenue until nothing remains—breath on a cold mirror vanishing—a blank slate. 

(peter griffin voice 👉AHH, AHH, 👉THERE IT IS)

the end here is inspired by this from “how to embrace a swamp creature” by tmg:

Alone with your bathroom mirror Try to get my head straight Breathe on the glass and wait for it to clear Clean slate

Burned back and clean. So he thinks about what he could build. 

jimmy thinking very much like kim here, and especially what she said in the last chapter about the desert being sterile. 

He thinks about his brother on a park bench, surrounded by luminarias. He thinks about a paper-wrapped book with fourteen words inside it.

i really wanted there to be some of chuck in this moment, even though i’ve ended up in such a shippery/kim place. 

He thinks of letting her move against him, move over him, move around him. Of letting her define the edges of him.

the same idea as the light on the clouds, but hopefully a little more apparent! 😂and more returning images, and the seed planted by kim in the white sands motel. 

there’s something so fragile about jimmy’s realisation here, i hope. he really is still doing so much of this for other people. it’s hard -- there’s something about slippin’ jimmy coming to abq and deciding to *dedicate years and years of his life to becoming a lawyer* that’s just... incredible. i tried to get to a place by the end of this fic where it made sense, and of course we all know he ends up doing it, but -- i always wanted there to be this inspiration from within himself to do it, too, outside of him just doing it to follow kim or to make chuck proud. 

but i don’t think he’s found it here, as much as the shape of himself is briefly visible atop the sandia peak. 

Jimmy wonders if he’s allowed to stay here all night, up on the Sandias. Up on this one high place.

oh jimmy if only you could stay up there forever. hamlin snr voice: perspective!!

He imagines waiting exactly here until the sun returns, until it rises behind him and breaks over the mountains. Like sitting beside Kim on the trunk of her car, their legs pressed together beneath the blanket.

this specific idea of holding off on seeing 🌄morning over the sandias 🌄at the end of chapter 16 came as i was planning that chapter. i was worried that ending with a sunrise would seem too final, seem too much like the ending of the whole story, and that chapter 17 would then end up feeling tacked on. 

Then, the dawn had seemed to reach out close enough to touch them, huge and breathless, warm fingers on his skin.

three rapid fire callbacks in these next sentences. first an inverse of this from chapter 6, when kim takes a cup of coffee from him: “He can feel the ghost of her fingers like sunlight on his skin.” 

And Jimmy had inhaled the colors of it: blue and gold and orange, streaks of brightness across the enormous sky.

then white sands: “as Jimmy inhales the air and the colors he thinks that there could be nothing more opposite of a Cook County jail cell than this exact spot in the middle of the White Sands National Monument.”

Morning sliding over the land. 

and this is so niche and impossible, but it’s “I watch the sun rise over this wall / I watch it break and slide” from “graffiti” by throwing muses, which is on the road trip playlist and shows up in chapter 10 with: “A smile crests Kim’s face like the sun over a wall.” but, you know. callback?

And now he stands on the edge of the viewing platform and he looks out into the darkness of the city. And he imagines it all bathed in light.

i said that i decided to shift the idea of the sunrise here because it felt too much like an ending -- and man, the noise i made when i realised that jimmy imagining the sun rising behind him was jimmy imagining the world before him finally illuminated. 

i also loved the idea of the weird clash of him standing there at sunset, at night, and imagining dawn. 

🌄🌄🌄☁️☁️☁️ thank you so much for asking!! 💙

[dollsorwhatever]

LOL Surprise: OMG review

Alrighty so I’m off work and I got a chance to sit down and take my time, unboxing these ladies, and thought I’d take a few photos with my thoughts. Spoiler alert: I am VERY IMPRESSED LMAO Everything is below the cut!

Ya’ll have probably seen the box a few times, so I never took any photos of it- but basically the way it works is that you pull a tab on the right side, then pull the box out from the left side to reveal the doll and all of the surprises/clothes and accessories (this will all be demonstrated on Swag, since I deboxed her first): Sidenote- the box clearly states, on the outside, which character you’re getting! 

One compartment has the surprises, which consist of two garment bags with hangers attached (one has a bottom piece, the other has a jacket), a plastic shoebox (it even has a little label and barcode!) and a larger cylindrical container with the accessories (jewelry, belts, sunglasses, hats etc). The second compartment is the doll, her purse and a stand. Swag is gorgeous

Personally, I think her makeup would’ve been better if the eyeshadow was white and her eyes were brown, but she’s gorgeous.  Her head is fully rooted with nylon braids, and it’s ridiculously heavy and thick. Despite that, her scalp is visible at the top of her head and the thatching is an afterthought (like it’s barely there lol). The braids are rooted with a lot of space between each plug, and imo this gives the impression of a realistic braided style and I love it tbh. Even as a hair nut, I’m fine with this rooting pattern and the braids are stunning:

I didn’t take photos of the naked body, but I think there’s one floating around somewhere. These dolls are thicccccccccc, with rubber click knees and articulated arms.  Here’s a photo from my friend to show the amazing, detailed hand sculpt bc I forgot to take one! It looks so delicate, and look at the little dimples on her knuckles! So cute.

The garment bags are made of a papery fabric and open very easily (but I still ripped them oops lmao), the hangers are hard plastic. The tops and bottoms come in their own garment bags with a hanger, but here’s a picture of the top and bottom she comes with:

These pieces are VERY nice, exactly what you’d expect from a good MGA doll. realistic, stylish, well made. Pants are very well made, studs aren’t falling off (lol @ bratz 2018), and they have slits on either side. V nice! The sweatshirt is very nice too, the only issue is that the collar was flipped up in the package and it’s hard to keep down, and the fabric of the collar looks tattered- though I think this is a design choice, since they all seem to be like that! Swag comes with a necklace, earrings, a belt and sunglasses, wrapped in tissue paper in the cylindrical container (which is V useful for storage):

All unique sculpts, the earrings are electroplated and look amazing! Side note, the accessory count is not the same for each character. Some of them have extra pieces, or they’re missing a belt etc. Shoe box has a cute little pair of Stilleto Timbs (which made me chuckle, bc I have a pair of heeled Timbs and they’re my favorite shoes lol)

Here she is all dressed up! I love herrrr:

Each doll comes with a C-clasp stand, and underneath the base you’ll actually find an extra, smaller base for the stand, JIC you want to display them closer together or run out of room lol. Lemme just breeze through the other characters rather than show the same box and etc over again! Lady Diva prob has my favorite face and her hair is amazing, soft shiny nylon ponytail that goes down to her ankles (except for the puff in the front) it feels so silky and gorgeous:

She comes with an extra necklace and a headset (the little choker says ‘Slay’ lmao I love it) I aesthetically hate her skirt and purse because I do NOT like animal print, but the skirt is still well made (though it barely fits around her butt), her fur coat is shedding a little bit and the sleeves go past her hands.  Her two-piece undies are stunning though! You’ll also notice her belt is falling off- this is the only design flaw, the bels don’t have clasps, you just basically drape them over and they hang on in the back. But Diva’s is warped, so it  doesn’t drape correctly. Will have to fix that with boiling water.  I haven’t decided if I want to keep the hair puff, or comb it into a pompadour like Dynamite Girls Electropop Jasper. Will def be washing the gel out of her ponytail though. Royal Bee is STUNNING, her hair is incredibly thick and the little curls are so well done. The nylon is incredibly smooth and shiny, the blonde highlights are SO shiny that they look like tinsel. It’s really, really amazing hair. Her thatching goes all the way to the back of her head and it’s V thick.

Her lips are glitter, but it’s such a fine glitter that she just looks like she’s wearing a metallic liquid lip. I love her lil baby hairs and the metallic eyeshadow! I honestly didn’t think I’d like her makeup, but I think she’s one of my top favorite dolls of the bunch. She’s soooooo nice. The metallic cord around her buns is a nice touch, they really went there with every detail for this line.

I love her sheer pants and the incredibly detailed jacket, with the little metallic shoulder pads! I’m gonna leave her hair as-is for now, but I may eventually take down the buns and wash her hair.  My only issue with her is that her choker is really hard to put on lmao.  Neonlicious is super cute (but needs the most work hair-wise)

She has the most detail in her face, with two different eye shadows, star freckles and wiggly brows. The fact that she has wiggly brows is, imo, a sign that MGA really, REALLY spent a lot of time looking at current trends while designing these dolls, like they did in 2002-08 for Bratz. Her hair is very nice, my only issue is the sheer amount of product in it. The sides and fringe are drenched in it. Her short bangs kinda terrify me because it’ll be hard to even them out without making them too short, but the quality of the hair is amazing and she has a full set of crimps.  I’ll also probably cut the side pieces to match the rest, they’re annoying tbh. Her undies are very nice and will definitely be useful, versatile pieces for restyling. I hope we get fashion packs!!

Her glasses are awesome lmao, it’s such a weird design. The vinyl over-dress is very well done, with studs and stitching in place, and her jacket is very well tailored- you can even close it at the waist! She only has earrings and a bracelet jewelry-wise, likely because she comes with an (awesome) hat. She’s very like.. if Leloo from Fifth Element was a runway model, doing a show for a Moschino x Rugrats collection lmao. Very that, and I love it.  Group photo (with bad lighting):

Overall thoughts...ya’ll I hardcore LOVE this line. The level of quality and attention to detail is something I haven’t seen in playline for almost a decade, the designs are current, trendy and well tailored, the dolls themselves are gorgeous and unique, the body is well made, the hair is amazing quality and thickly rooted, literally not a single problem with these dolls, even the QC is great. Worth every penny, and I’ll definitely be buying the next wave. Highly, HIGHLY recommend. And as a very picky collector, that means a lot coming from me lmao.  ETA: codes and sales info DPCI and UPCs for each of the LOL OMG dolls:

Swag-

UPC-035051560548

DPCI-086-02-4903

Royal Bee-

UPC-035051560555

DPCI-086-02-8366

Lady Diva-

UPC-035051560555

DPCI-086-02-9404

Neonlicious-

UPC-03505160562

DPCI-086-02-9906 Retail price: 26.99 The dolls come one of each in a case and the street date (July 7th) was lifted yesterday, so the dolls are coming into stock and put on the floor immediately for sale! The DPCIs aren’t on Brickseek yet, but you can tall your local Target and they’ll know (however they’re not doing holds because it’s a ‘hot item’)

[fly-pow-bye]

Powerpuff Girls 2016 - The Top Title Cards

One of the artistic choices the show makes is its use of unique title cards. On one hand, the reboot's title cards lack the punch of the original's. The original had the Powerpuff Girls flying, making. In the reboot, it's lumpy text with some drawings surrounding it with some soft ambient techno over it. On the other hand, the reboot lacks the punch of the original, so they fit perfectly.

One improvement I can see with these title cards is the variety. The originals do not have pictures, it's just white text on black background. The reboot has these works of art for each episode. I don't hate the original's title cards, far from it, but I couldn't rank them. Just for fun, I’m going to rank my top favorite title cards of PPG 2016. These will be ranked based on if they fit their episode and whether or not they look great.

10. The Trouble With Bubbles

Out of all the Bubbles coding episodes, this is my favorite one. While the title is actually kind of generic, it does show that this is an episode where Bubbles codes a clone of herself and prints it with a 3D printer. The title is even laid out in a way similar to Scratch, a beginner's programming language that the Powerpuff Girls even had a tie-in with at one point. It's a little more literal than something abstract or symbolic, but it works.

9. The Secret Life of Blossom Powerpuff

Yes, they actually believed that the Powerpuff Girls' last name should be Powerpuff in Season 1. Let's ignore that, as that's one of the few aspects they did change their mind on in Season 2. I like this effect of Blossom getting split into two different versions of herself, one in a Victorian dress, and the other as an astronaut. This does perfectly show what this episode is going to be about: Blossom imagining herself as different versions of herself much like Walter Mitty.

They had to leave out one Blossom for this title to look good. Honestly, I would have went with the breakdancer Blossom, as it would have been a contrast between the elegant Victorian Blossom. The astronaut Blossom still works as a "Past vs. Future" contrast, and the cynic in me also notes that they are also the low points of the episode.

8. The Tell Tale Schedulebot

Maybe I'm going for more of how it looks rather than what it represents. The title references a horror story, and, while it's not exactly a reference to the original story, the title card represents a horror theme. Yes, Schedulebot seemingly rises from the dead in one of the very, very few times they referenced plots from previous episodes, and the title card shows it as this zombie rising from the dead. They put this title card in this artsy cloud-esque smudge, with lightning inside of it, which adds to the effect.

7. Once Upon A Townsville

The episode's idea is that it's a Disney-esque princess in a modern day world. I did not get this at first, thinking this was just a generic city. I didn't even notice the little circle around it, which is supposed to represent that part of the logo where Tinkerbell flies around the Disney castle in an arc.

I think the less said about Once Upon A Townsville, the better, so let's move on.

6. Save The Date

Not all of my favorite title cards are graphically complex, as this one is pretty simple: just Ms. Keane and a really, really big shadow. The obvious meaning comes from how Ms. Keane turns into a giant in this episode. I can't help but see another meaning in this, referring to the other plot of the episode that is intertwined with.

Ms. Keane is on her first date with some random dude, and she is not confident about it. She can't walk in high heels, she has a zit that we thankfully never get to see, and she's late! Maybe I'm looking too deep into this, but I'll still rank it this high.

5. Breaking Bliss

Also known as part four of the Power of Four, which is actually five parts long. Each part of the Power of Four has a standalone version, complete with its own unique title card. This is the only special to get this treatment; Small World just uses that magic hat for every episode. Outside of Find Your Bliss, which just has the title on 3D glasses, they're all pretty good. I even like Bliss Reminisce's title card, with. I decided to choose only one, and it was a tough pick between this one and Blisstersweet Symphony.

In the end, I went with this one, which is a good representation of the episode. Bliss is utterly broken inside in this episode, and the title card puts that in a symbolic way that looks aesthetically pleasing. The only real problem with this one is that the text seems to be put as an afterthought. Granted, this title card never aired on US TV; Power of Four only aired as a special, and that only came with a rather generic title card of four Powerpuff Girls flying.

4. Power Up Puff

Rather than outright showing the aura powers that were the star attraction to this episode, this episode focuses more on how Blossom seems to be overshadowed by her sisters. I do like the idea behind this one; Blossom is just way in the background while her sisters do these poses.

I will say the drawing is a bit awkward here. They forgot Buttercup's all-important cowlick, which is shockingly common in title cards. so it's a little bit lower than another episode that has a similar idea.

3. Bubbles The Blue

Well, this episode seems to rank high in any PPG 2016 list I would make. Bubbles is sitting down, looking sad, while her sisters are very tiny. I would say it represents their understanding of the episode's situation, and not in a way that can be blamed on bad writing. This episode's title card is very similar to the last entry in this list. Honestly, I would have had this in a tie.

Also, they actually remembered Bubbles' pigtail bubbles. That doesn't look like Blossom or Buttercup, though. That looks like a wrapped peppermint and one of those Ring Pops. I can still see what they were doing there.

2. Can't Buy Love

One of the more artsy title cards. They could have just had a cupcake, but instead, we get this romantic shot under the moonlight. One may have to ignore the participants here. If it is your thing, that's fine, but I don't think a lot of people would have wanted BarryBucks. The joke is that's the case even in-universe.

This episode is about Princess believing this fantasy this title card seems to portray. Everyone else around her isn't even aware of this, including the hunk-in-her-eyes-and-only-her-eyes Barry. Since this episode is from her perspective, the title card decides to use a shot from her perspective.

1. Salamander

There's absolutely no way this title card wouldn't be #1. Just look at that volcano's majesty. The detailed lines, those two trees that give the title card more body, and that sculpt of the villain's face. This volcano lair looks like something straight out of those 80's cartoons with the over-the-top bad guys, which is exactly what they were going for with this episode's lead villain. This one is a work of art, plain and simple.

I'm not going to do a Bottom 10, because most of the bad title cards can be summed up as "yup, that's an X", with maybe some text put in as an afterthought. I will do a bottom 3, though.

3. Man Up 3: The Good, The Bad, and the Manly

One thing I didn't really notice is that they did remove the wacky inflatable tube man from the second Man Up. They didn't do it for this one. Man Up 4 at least had a different title card. Sure, it's just a strawberry, a reference to a plot that rarely even appears in the episode, but it's better than reusing the same log and tube man again and again.

The biggest flaw with this one besides the reuse is a similar problem the second one had: this title card doesn't convey Man Up 3 to me. It's just Man Up, with some really tiny fine print that says it is the third one.

2. Odd Bubbles Out

It's a Bubbles head surrounded by hearts, which has basically nothing to do with this episode, as Bubbles, surprisingly, never really got a love interest. Maybe it's supposed to represent the love of her friendship with Donny and only Donny that depends on his friendship with Bubbles and only Bubbles, but that's a stretch.

Also...Odd Bubbles Out? I know I'm judging these title cards based on their artwork rather than their titles, but that has to be addressed. It's a play on being the Odd One Out, which is certainly what's happening in this episode, but I can't even consider it a pun.

1. The Bubbles-Sitters Club

It just looks like a screenshot they put a sillohuette on. If they couldn't even bother to make the text not look like something they just slapped on at the last second, why should I put more effort in describing it?

Next week, I'm going to dedicate Saturdays to DuckTales 2017 reviews, since that show is returning. Just one per week; as much as I want to review them quickly, I'd rather not have another hiatus. I also need the time for college. See you soon!

[altonadventures]

ALTON ADVENTURES BIG ANNOUNCEMENT

So...because its Friday and I usually update AA on Fridays, I figured it was time to make my big announcement! 

And that is...that Alton Adventures is changing. A little bit. 

Am I rebooted the comic again? No haha! Once I get back to it it shall continue as normal but some characters may look a bit different going forward. 

Who may those characters be?

Sir Gareth Nemesis 

Why is he changing? 

Sir Nemesis’ change is actually less drastic than one may think. For starters, he needed a design rehaul. I wanted his armor to be more simple, easier to draw but with still details that could tie him to Nemesis (the green eye, the arms, the light pink details instead of inconsistent tentacles). I also had an issue where his hair was too close to his skin color, so to combat this I turned him into a ginger! His eye color also changed from gold to green, another thing to visually tie him more to Nemesis. 

So yes, I changed Sir Nem’s design because I was unhappy with it. His armor was never drawn consistently ever, I was constantly changing the tone of his hair and his skin so that was inconsistent. I want my designs to be more consistent and polished going forward.

What else is different? Well, you can probably tell he looks much more serious, like in older pictures I drew of him. Why is that? Well, I was kind of..honestly tired of his role as the “dad character tm” that he kind of turned out to be. It almost undermined his true characterization and turned him into a typical over the top exaggerated hero character. And I started to realize how much I missed his original concept. A battle hardened solider that was filled with regret and remorse, who heavily sympathizes with the plight of the alien he’s locked in combat with. He’s still much a father however, as he has a biological son and adopts an alien who mimics his likeness (hence another reason he’s a ginger now as his Nemesis daughter always was one). He’s just returned to his roots as a character. Because I felt that characterization was a unique one for the Nemesis ride. And it was an idea I really loved. Sir Nemesis actually WAS one of my favorite characters...I wanted his role to be much larger than it is in the comics. I don’t blame anyone for him becoming a joke, I did initially kind of fuel the fire for it, I’m just hoping that its not to late to get back to the Sir Nemesis I originally wanted to write. And of course, all my characters are still meme and joke worthy. I just want to tackle much more serious issues with my comic and show the more serious side of some of my characters and don’t want there entire existence to be a joke Mr.S can’t have too many folks 1 uping him in the laughs department!  I guess to note with this change that his original voice claim has also been solidified as well. It’s a more somber and serious tone that I feel fits him as a character. 

Final Notes 

Sir Nemesis is a character that I have a lot of thought put into. His backstory is tragic, emotional, and his character is complex and he’s not the perfect hero people might image him as. I plan for his Arc to follow the Fireworks arc in the comic, as well as I am planning to start some more text heavy short stories about how the Secret Weapons became Secret Weapons (which I will likely call Secret Weapon Short Stories hehe) and will be writing his first. Also a very important thing i must address. Yes, the eye on his chest moves. (I have a gif but it doesn’t want to work on this post Ill have it up later ><)

Erica Annabelle Cloud 

ooof okay this is a huge one. Confession time. Erica was always my least favorite character. Why? She just had...no character. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with her, her design felt phoned in and there because I needed an Air/Galatica character, (yes, she is changing as her Galatica stage too). She was just. not well thought out. She had a dual identity but I think a lot of people didn’t pick up on that? She felt like a Rita 2.0 as just a nice and friendly optimistic person and literally had 0 backstory. Originally she was supposed to have had some sort of accident that turned her into Galatica and she had memory loss and forgotten about when she was Air, yeah it was a mess. That eventually just turned into Nebula Corona being a character she made up (bc her one trait was that she was into space and wrote a lot) that she played as when her rides themeing changed. 

She was just..barely a character and her design was abysmal (Her Galatica suit was okay but her Air outfit was an afterthought) She needed a massive visual upgrade. A sleeker flight suit that makes more sense (I used a ref or two for this design!) A different face shape to help her stand out more, my signature they wear glasses they have dot eyes look. Long, wispy, flowing hair to resemble those trails planes make. A bit more lanky and tall. And let me tell you I LOVE her design now. It looks so much more unique and you can just SEE she has so much more character now!  As for her characterization im going full into her being a nerd. A very tech nerd at that! She designed her suit to help her fly at her best, and eventually will be the one that designs and builds all her Galatica tech! Her Galatica design hasn’t been done yet, mostly bc I wanted to focus on her current comic canon design, but not much would change I feel with her upgrade anyways! She is effectively the brains of the group, and the others often turn to her for plans of attack when dealing with a situation, or innovative solutions to problems! I have yet to get a voice claim for her, but im sure one will come to me soon enough! 

Final Notes

Erica/Nebula was a character I struggled to connect with. Everyone else had Airs that were either super plot important, or just much more cool and creative in general. I felt, that with my Air/Galatica she was just there, and I wanted her to be more. So a full character rehaul was done with her and it makes me so happy. She feels much more fleshed out, better designed, and I’m super excited to do more stuff with her, and hopefully you will all see her much more now that I’m a lot happier with her as a character! <3 

Welp that's the end of the updates....wait. Hold on. I have something written here. What could this be? Oh! I remember now! 

Black Hole, AkA Beatrix, will be joining the MAIN CAST of Alton Adventures! 

When I drew my Black Hole design, I knew she was something special. She stands out compared to a lot of my characters, and her design SCREAMS main character. While the biggest main roles will still be held by Mr. S and Rita, I wanted to add another non SW coaster to the main crew, and because Canonically Corkscrew is MIA, Black Hole seemed like a fitting addition to the main crew! As she isn’t human, a species literally only referred to as Black Holes, I thought making her a main character and giving her a big arc would help flesh out the reality of non humans in Alton Adventures! Her powers and design and character and personality are just too fun to shove her into the background. I feel that adding her to the main cast gives them not only another character to support them, but a closer friend! You will all see her much more in the future for certain! 

Well that's about it! In terms of comic updates themselves...its still going to be hiatus as long as I’m being swamped with school work. I hope you all understand. I’ll try to squeeze in updates over the breaks I have IF im not working on assignments for class. As I also said, I wanna do short stories as well, to expand the world and explain it better, as a comic will only develop the world so quickly and lots of you have tons of questions! I also wanna do something animated at some point, that’s my dream. I’ve ALSO mentioned to some people about merch, likely going for making stickers first since that's simple. I got an excited reaction for that so I’ll come up with designs for them soon! I just wanna do a lot with Alton Adventures, because I know how much it means to people, and of course it means so much. Goodness I really need to actually get to this park, I look quiet silly constantly gushing over a themepark I’ve never been to all the time XP  That all aside I thank you all for sticking by me. I promise that even if I don’t do comic updates as frequently during the school year, I’ll still work to push out as much AA content I can outside of that! I’m always open to suggestions to what you guys want to see! ALSO, working on a big google doc spreadsheet with info on all the characters I’ll be posting when its more completed! So be on the lookout for that! 

Again thank you to everyone who’s stuck with me through this, Your support makes me feel nothing but proud of what I’ve created. These characters may have been created out of something some may consider silly or odd, but the only thing that matters to me if that I can make at least someone happy with what I create. 

Patreon (note that patrons got to see all of this content as it was being worked on!) l Ko-fi

[pinkbelugacollective]

On Rage and Homeric Downfall ft. One Takeshita Konosuke

where do i even start fam? peter pan? the fact that endo and konosuke haven’t had relevant interaction since endo lost clean to him at one of ddt’s marquee events? jiro? the press con when endo refused to comment on konosuke but made sure to comment on jiro? on konosuke’s declining mental health as he slowly, but surely, let’s his rage take over him, the same rage that we’ve seen sporadically take over him during moments of intense stress and scrutiny? or how about the fact that endo had the crowd in the palm of his hands? or that endo’s practically ignored konosuke’s presence since he refused to shake konosuke’s hand after their bout at peter pan? WHERE DOES ONE BEGIN WITH THESE TWO?

fhgsrhgisjrgsjbgs it’s not news that this is only the beginning of konosuke’s downfall. one of the biggest gripes i’ve had with his formal ascension as the promotion’s Ace is his inability to play out all the emotions he can possibly muster. sure, he’s second to none in terms of ring talent, but no story can move forward without a compelling protagonist and relevant conflict. konosuke’s first challenge was to get harashima to bow, and only after the torch was passed was the promotion allowed to introduce the second Ace, our Black Ace, one endo tetsuya. 

but whereas endo managed to develop his in-ring talent and character work, konosuke flew to the top with talent, but still hasn’t been able to establish himself as a character. the saddest thing is- he’s always had potential, but being fed his own greatness, and the constant, annoying fucking reminder that he’s “the future of DDT,” has stalled his character development and storyline progression so, so much that we got ppl rollin thru for everyone else but him. when the so-called Ace of the promotion becomes an afterthought, you know there’s a problem. 

with this current storyline playing out what we’ve already known since endo first challenged konosuke for the belt pre-DAMNATION, we get to see konosuke at his realest- and his weakest. we get to see him angry. we get to see him so angry that he uses movements for the sole reason of hurting his opponent. endo didn’t do shit to deserve a suplex on concrete. endo didn’t deserve to get thrown into chairs twice, or almost die of a piledriver on the apron. endo didn’t facilitate any of that- konosuke did.

one of the most poignant things about konosuke’s rage is that it has always been there- always lingering, just behind that smile or heartfelt promo, just itching to come out, and actually managing to come out once endo called him out on his own ego and found a new family in DAMNATION. but it was usually stifled, wiped away from memory bc, hello? this is the future of DDT! our current Ace is a literal smile puppy! of course our new Ace has to be exactly the same kind of sunshine harashima was!

ding ding, they were wrong, and the crowd been caught on. he’s been read so many times in the kayfabe, i wouldn’t be able to take ddt seriously if konosuke hadn’t lost his shit. because after all’s said and done, konosuke’s the best... but he’s alone. we can say he’s gone antonio, and akito, and diego, etc.- but lmao, really? does he really love and care for them like he did endo? when happy motel formally disbanded and all out began- is konosuke actually their leader, or just akito and diego’s baby bro who’s also in line to become the next Ace of ddt? even during the happy motel days, the fortune favored konosuke over endo. every step of the way until the DAMNATION turn... the world was konosuke’s. but it worked bc his ego and his narcissism could keep him alive if he had endo and antonio and the others to keep him grounded. but then endo left, called him out on this exact same bullshit, and now endo won’t even acknowledge him. diego’s gone, akito has a future, antonio and the others have moved on, and konosuke is... alone.

raised to be a king, that’s what konosuke’s whole storyline has been since he began with the bloody promotion. it’s always been “look at that tall noodle, he’s gonna carry us into the future.”

but at what cost? his friends? his mental health? his ability to connect with the crowd on a deeper level? his love for endo, which was never brotherly like it is with diego and akito, or parental like it was with anto? everything konosuke’s ever done, he’s done to make things better for DDT, but what did ddt do? they turned their favor to DAMNATION, the hottest stable on the japanese indie market. they turned to shuten doji, a band of upper midcarders with a penchant for barhopping. they turned to freakin hirata and his glasses, and sang praises for the former-loser-turned-damnation-leader, and now? now they’re putting lender talent over him. they’re cheering for ikemen, a son of muta, a dude who doesn’t even go here. 

and endo still won’t look at him, won’t acknowledge him, won’t let him have just this one thing, a clean win, a chance to not be angry. because konosuke isn’t angry when he wins, or when things are going his way, or when ppl are doing as he commands.

but it’s a problem when endo’s carefree and living his best life with a bunch of weirdos, when akito’s slowly rising to the top, when diego’s farewell sequence was more over than anything he’s done in months, when ppl aren’t giving him love, when ppl choose their own paths instead of catering to his whim. they made a mad king out of achilles, put too much burden on the shoulders of a 22 yr old who’s probably never even kissed a potential lover, or held their hand because he’s been so busy being groomed to rule.

and you know what? it works. rarely do we get to see the White Ace go heel with such precision, but they pulled the trigger at the right time. maybe he’ll retain at Judgement, but maybe not. either way, he’ll break. it’s time lmao.

[7fics]

Angst fic: JY is the grim reaper and JS is a really funny athlete that has a bright future ahead of him. After a freak accident, JS is left to spend his last few months in the hospital. Slowly, JS will start to lose function is his brain. He will forget things here and there. Then he'll forget people. He'll lose function in his legs. He'll slowly but surely die. JY will have to wait by his side, ready to collect his soul when it decides to leave. During that time, he falls in love.

Warnings: Major character death but that’s a given??? Also terminology might get a bit weird because I’m not referencing Hellenistic mythology.

Author: Sally

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: I’m honestly so sorry I’m a writer whose fics should only exist in theory and not in execution. ;-; This didn’t turn out as angsty and detailed as the prompt was but that’s bc i’m trash and half my inspo comes from Unimedia’s webdramas. Unbeta-ed

Time doesn’t pass in the underworld; or rather, there’s nomethod of keeping track. (But then again, there doesn’t seem to be a need tokeep track either.) The sun never does rise, nor will the plants bud andwither. It’s an eternal dusk that spreads hazily above their heads. Jinyoungdoesn’t quite remember how long he’s been here. Neither does he recall how longhas it been since he’s been appointed to be a psychopomp. But he figures thatit’s better than spending all of his time beneath the soiled grounds. At leasthe gets to travel between the worlds of life and death—gets to see the sun riseand fall, watch those who are still alive go through their everyday lives. Andit’s the juxtaposition between the bustling life of the world above and theremote barrenness of the world below that reminds Jinyoung of how he was oncealive.

He doesn’t have a clear recollection of it though, being oneof those who’ve drunk Lady Meng’s soup yet failed to cross the bridge into thenext life. Something is keeping him back, Jaebum had told him once. Though heisn’t sure whether it was resent or regret that has carried on from the daysthat he was living. Sometimes when he thinks too much about it, there’s a senseof foreignness that settles underneath his skin. Something about having been alive, yet not being able to rememberhow exactly living felt like leaves him perturbed. Was he still him if he had no memories of what heonce was? What was he waiting for then? And what if he never does recall it inthe end?

It’s amidst these thoughts that Jaebum finds him, royalpendant in hand as he relays orders from above. “The underworld isn’t a placefor freeloaders,” the older spirit had said, “If you’re not going intopurgatory nor the afterlife, then you’re going to have to work. The livingdon’t burn so much paper money for taxes to go to waste.”

And so, Jinyoung finds himself with a list of names anddates and a similar jade pendant at his hands. How long ago was thatexactly?Jinyoung doesn’t know either; though, as he watches as the world aboveturn from dynasties to republics—he finds that he doesn’t really care. The daysgo on, in a seemingly endless loop. People pass away, people are born—his jobcontinues. He never does remember what it is that stops him from crossing the NaiheBridge.

 “This one’s for you.” Jaebum tells him, tossing a file overfrom across the room. “Lord Yan said to make sure you take up this case.” Headds when Jinyoung looks at him in confusion. “Why?” He inquires, flippingthrough the pages in the file.

Jackson Wang.

The name sits at the top of the file. Jinyoung takes aglance at the date—June 26th. He’s got three months time before time’s up, agap settling between earlier members on his list. He gives a questioningly lookat Jaebum, who only smiles at him meekly. “This one is…” The older malesearches for the right word, “…special.” There’s a glint in his eyes thatdon’t settle well with Jinyoung, but no matter how much he presses, Jaebumrefuses to give him any specific details. “Take your time with this one,”Jaebum tells him at last before melding into the shadows and disappearing fromsight.

Jinyoung glances up at the empty spot where Jaebum once was,a small frown settling on his face. Something, he tells himself, isn’t right.Though he isn’t sure just what it was—yet.

 The first time Jinyoung sees Jackson is a Thursdayafternoon, where the sunlight filtering through the window panes shower thewhite patient ward in golden hues. Perhaps it’s the calmness that lingers inthe air that makes him lament, or maybe it was the sight of the tiny budsadorning the winter barren trees. But Jinyoung takes a look at the sleeping boyand can’t help but think, Spring iscoming. All is reborn; but you are wilting away.

 At least, hesighs, your death would be peaceful.He takes a look through the other’s file, flipping through the pageshalfheartedly before settling into the seat by the bed. He takes a look at theother male, watching as the sunlight slowly settles into the fine lines of hisskin. The thoughts of Fleeting Youth briefly crosses his mind, where the budshave barely blossomed before its petals are already falling to the groundsbelow. Jinyoung thinks about himself, ponders upon the flower he was before hewas placed beneath the soiled grounds. Atleast, he looks at the sleeping figure, you’llbe reborn with the coming spring. He remembers the iron gates of the worldbelow. When will I pass through them, hewonders. Perhaps soon, perhaps never.

 Jackson is awake the next time Jinyoung visits him. He takesa look at the other before settling into the same old chair next to the bed.There’s a new plant on the dresser, daisies in full bloom. The vibrance of itseems blinding, the only dash of colour within the white ward. He looks at theboy in front of him, watching as the other stares at the phone in his hands.Jinyoung hovers over the other, a shadowless figure looming above as he takes acloser look at what was on the screen.

Photos.

He takes a glance at the brunette male before looking backat the phone. “You’re an athlete?” He asks despite knowing there won’t be aresponse. Though Jinyoung’s talking more to himself than the other male. Hethinks back to the other’s record, trying to remember the other’s reason ofhospitalization. He scrunches his forehead in thought. What was it? He wonders. Ah,that’s right. Car accident.

“That’s unfortunate,” he mutters with a sigh. Jinyoungglances up to the other’s figure, the wheelchair across the room entering hisperipheral vision. He recalls the black numbers upon the other’s file, a simpletwenty-two under the age of death. A feeling of suffocation seeps into hislungs, though Jinyoung knows well enough that he doesn’t need to breathe. Don’t get hung up over this, he tellshimself. You’ve seen worse.

He takes in a deep breath of air, letting it enter his lungsand settle within. He doesn’t let it back out, wanting the weight of it toreplace the emptiness of before. Jinyoung looks away from the other boy,avoiding the look of sadness that seems to well out of the other’s irises. Hegives a small wave, robes fluttering with his movements as he morphs into thewhiteness of the walls, seeping into the shadows of hell.

What are you escapingfrom? He asks himself.

 The smile doesn’t reach his eyes, he can’t help but notice.Jinyoung sits on the windowsill this time, watching as the people in front ofhim play a courteous game of avoiding the white elephant in the room. There’soccasional banter and jokes that dissolve into afterthoughts and suddensilence, sympathetic gazes and apologetic smiles. The brunette male seemssmaller than ever, seated in the middle as those around him stand. “How’spractice?” He hears him ask once again. It’s the same conversation every time.The same questions, the same answers. Same old, same old– just without you.Jinyoung fiddles with his pendant aimlessly, turning it over and over under thesunlight.

Lunchtime comes along when the shadows tilt northwest,sunlight turning a faded orange. “We brought your favourite today,” one ofJackson’s friends says. Jinyoung doesn’t fail to catch the faltering smile onJackson’s face, turning to his side to fully face the group in the room. Keep your distance, he reminds himself.The jade of his pendant seems to burn into his hand, characters etched into hispalm. Don’t, Jinyoung tells himselfas he closes his eyes trying to clear his thoughts.

He’s crossing the boundaries, trespassing into forbiddenterritory. Jinyoung looks at the boy in front of him, stepping forward to holdhis trembling hand. Just this once,he thinks. Just one time. Jinyoungstables the other’s grip, guiding the spoon to the other’s mouth. He pretendsto ignore the tensing of the other boy, pretends not to hear the relief in theother’s words. Jackson leans back in his hold, enwrapped by shadows as he eatswithout shaking hands the first time in a while.

 “Maybe angels doexist,” Jackson says to thin air that one night. The words burn intoJinyoung’s soul, claws underneath his skin. He looks at the smiling boy in theempty room with red eyes that remind him too much of blood. Maybe angels do exist, Jinyoung repliesback, empty soundwaves to the human ear.

 It’s when Jackson waters the flowers for the third time onemorning that someone finally notices. “Jia Er?” His mother calls for him,taking the glass from his hold. There’s the foreboding of fear that Jinyoungsees in her eyes, as if the pillars of her life were slowly crashing one byone. He turns away, not wanting to linger at the overwhelming gloom thatshadows the room. “What’s wrong?” He listens to Jackson ask in just about themost innocent way.

“What’s wrong?” Heasks himself as well. “Nothing,” hereassures. This was but the course of life, a loose thread slowly unraveling tothe very last patch of fabric. He listens to the sound of Jackson’s mother’sweeping at the end of the corridor while he walks towards the dresser table.The overwatered flowers stand still in time, water seeping through its roots—it won’t be long until they die, hethinks.

Wind travels from the open window, bringing movement to thestagnant room. The pages of the hanging calendar flutter slightly. Time isticking, the road is ending. Jinyoung closes his eyes for a long while,reopening them only when the thundering beneath his thoughts settle into a lowmuffle. Jackson is still there in the room, still looking out at the open door.

It’s half past four when his mom reenters the room, eyesswollen from grief and hands trembling. “It’s okay, you’ll get better.” Shetells him quietly. “The heavens won’t abandon us.”

 “The finals are today,” Jackson says aloud after breakfast. “Two days ago,” Jinyoung correctsthough Jackson can’t hear him.

“I’m sure we’re going to win.”

“The game tied.” 

“Where’d I leave my book?”

“The second drawer inthe dresser.”

Jinyoung dangles his legs in midair as he sits atop thefluorescent lights, staring down at the boy below. He gives a wave of hisrobes, watching the dust disappear from the surface of the lighting piece. Hegives a peer to Jackson, sitting quietly in the ward bed below, flippingthrough the pages of his book. “You readthis book everyday,” he comments. “Youread it everyday and flip back to the beginning because you don’t remember.” 

He thinks vaguely of the story of the girl and the ivy vine,the last leaf in the bitter winter. Perhaps, he muses, if Jackson never doesreach the end of the book, the end would never come. “Foolish,” he tells himself, propping himself upright and settlingdown in front of Jackson. He peers with kohl eyes at the human boy, reachingout to pass through the other’s overgrown bangs. “Hopeful,” he tells himself.

 The first time Jackson forgets someone is a rainy day, wherethe sound of rain and thunder fill the streets below. Mark stands on the side,hands at loss as Jackson asks for the second time, “Do I…know you?” This timearound, it comes out a lot more cautious than the first. Jinyoung pulls petalsoff imaginary flowers, dropping them into the shadows. There’s something aboutJackson’s eyes—too bright, too naive—that seems to conjure sorrow from thosearound him. Where everyone seemingly steps around the elephant in the room,quietly counting down to the endpoint beneath faltering smiles.

It’s at times like these where Jackson is the one comfortingothers, breaking silences with soft reassurance and empty promises. It’s attimes like these that Jinyoung looks at the sand falling down the hourglass andremembers that they’re running out of time. Someone like Jackson doesn’tdeserve this, where the road ahead is still so vast and beautiful. The other’sstill a blooming bud, roots pulled out of the soil before he’s fully reachedhis best moments in life.

“All good things come to an end,” he tells Jaebum whilewaving his hands through the fire of the candle.

 “That’s the wheel of fate,” the other responds, “we can onlyfollow through with it.” Jinyoung doesn’t respond, giving a small scoff as hetries to grab onto the wisp of light. The flame extinguishes in his hand, smokedissipating into the cold air. “Jinyoung,” the other male calls, voice loweringand red eyes gleaming in the dim room. “It’s time for you to move on too.” 

“To what?” He asks. “From what?” He bemuses, splaying hisarms out on the wooden table and resting his head on them as Jaebum only shakeshis head disapprovingly.

 There’s something that Jinyoung’s forgotten, memories that’sfaded with too much time, covered in grey dust of millennials ago. It sitssilently in the bottom of his thoughts, an emptiness that hits him occasionallywhen he tries to reminisce about the golden past. “You’re forgetting stuff,” hetells Jackson. The younger male animatedly talking to his (ex) teammatesdespite the fatigue that hangs underneath his eyes. “It’s okay,” he reassures,“I’ve forgotten stuff too.”

“At least you’ll move on,” he says, “walk past the gates andfind yourself anew.” Jinyoung gives a small sigh, “All I go home to is anothereternity underneath the soiled grounds, listening to the muffled screams of alleighteen levels at once.”

“Joy.” He mutters, a frown forming on his face at thethought.

 Sometimes Jackson is fine, sometimes he isn’t. Sometimes heremembers those who visit him, sometimes he forgets. Though those who come tovisit come less and less. Jinyoung tries not to dwell on it too much, shruggingit off as he continues to have one sided conversations with the younger boy.Time continues to flow, ticking down to detonation with every second. The worldseems to be wilting away as well, leaves falling off almost barren branches asthe early snow covers everything in blankets of white. Everything slows down toa calming speed as nature prepares for it’s annual rest.

The winter wind billows, snow falling off the trees and ontothe grounds below. Jinyoung flips idly through the book that Jackson’s beenreading and re-reading. The said boy sleeping quietly underneath the newblankets they brought him for the winter. He wonders what he dreams of, andwhether the world in his mind is much more vibrant than his reality. Maybe, hethinks. Perhaps that’s why Jackson would rather stay in his dreams, fallingasleep more and more often as the days grow shorter and shorter.

“It’s okay to rest ifyou’re tired,” his mother had told him.“Sleep is only to recharge for the next time you wake.” She had said thoughthey all know that ‘next time’ may never really be a ‘next time.’ Jinyoungglances at the sleeping figure, taking deep breaths as the air under the oxygenmask condenses and vaporizes. The beeping of the heart rate monitor sounds inoffbeats to the clock, a small harmony on its own.

Time ticks on,Jinyoung thinks, turning over another page of the book. The green graph on themonitor screen rises and declines in all the ups and downs of life that they’veyet to encounter. Jinyoung reaches up to run across the scar around his neck,feeling the uneven skin underneath his fingertips. Blurred memories surface inhis thoughts, as he remembers palace walls and jade seals. Crimson stains theexecution ground in kaleidoscopic ways. He looks up at the veiled figures infront of his sight, trying to focus his vision but failing. A voice sounds inthe back of his head. “I can’t die yet,” he echoes. But why? Why couldn’t hedie yet? But wasn’t he already dead?

“It’s time to moveon,” Jaebum had told him. But from what? What was holding him back? Whatwas it that he had forgotten, what was it that he had left undone? He doesn’tknow.

 Jackson doesn’t deserve to die—not now, not him. There’s somuch left undone, so much left unexplored in the years after. So why? Why werethe heavens always ending everything worthwhile like so? He questions—heresents—but he more than knows that there’s nothing that can stop him fromdoing so. The calendar on the wall slowly marks down to the endpoint. “Are youafraid of dying?” He whispers even though those who can hear him are those whoare no longer there.

“You’re holding onto too much,” Jaebum’s voice sounds frombehind him. The air turns a stale blue, lack of warmth (of life) that seeminglycovers everything in veils of grey. “Onto what?” He questions though Jaebumdoesn’t answer. “It’s over,” Jaebum tells him. “Once it’s over, it’s over.” Hesays.

There’s a part of him that doesn’t want to understand, andJinyoung only avoids the other’s gaze, turning to look at the barren branchesoutside the frosted window. “Is this why he gave the case to me?” He questions,trying to appear calm though his faltering voice betrays him. ”Not everyonelives until the very end, Jinyoung. And not everyone lives out their ultimatepurpose. It’s time to let go.” Jaebum says.

And it isn’t until the other has left and the room hasfinally returned to its usual warmth that Jinyoung unfolds his fist, reachingup with trembling hands to glide against the rigid wound that encircles hisneck. There’s a burn in his eyes, warmth that scalds him as the tears finallyfall down his cheeks.

 “Jia Er!” He shoutsamidst the chaos of the battlefield, abruptly pulling the rein as he halts to astop. “Jia Er!” He calls again, searching around for the armour clad figure.The royal flag stands alone, red emblem mixing with the red that pools beneath theirfeet. “You can’t die,” Zhen Rong mutters under his breath, “You promised me.”

The distant rhythm ofthe military drums beat in unison with his heartbeat, muffling the soundsaround him. They’re fighting a losing battle, heated blood and dreams lost withinthe royal courts and veiled rulers. It’s a sea of red, the setting sun dousingeverything into shades of crimson.

 “I can’t die yet,” hetells himself when the coldness of the blade falls upon his neck. “I have tofind him.”

 It’s nearing the end of winter, plants sprouting underneaththe snow covered groups. All the world’s reawakening, and Jackson finally fallsinto his dreams forever. “Are you afraid of dying?” He asks Jackson as thegraph slowly flattens to a straight line, a toned pitch resonating within theroom. Though it’s much later that Jackson responds to his question with, “It’ssomething that I knew was coming.”

His parents sit by the bed, tears welling in his father’seyes as his mother’s sobs echo in the small room. Jinyoung watches as Jacksonbids his farewells, trying to hug them with non-physical touches. The youngermale follows behind him slowly, traveling through the twists and turns of theunderworld. “What’s your name?” He asks, soft smile contrasting the coldnessaround them.

“Jinyoung.”

“Have you always been here?”

“Here?”

“With me,” he clarifies. “Sometimes I think there’s someonethere with me—looking over me so that I’m not too alone.”

There’s a muted pain that gathers in his chest, a softnumbing that overcomes him. “Yeah,” he finally lets out shakily with a smallsmile. Jinyoung catches the sight of Jaebum out of the corner of his eye, “Iwas here this time around.”

Jackson gives him a fuller smile, eyes upturning, “Then Iguess you could count as a guardian angel. You look more like an angel than adeath god.” He looks up in confusion, “Aren’t death gods supposed to be scaryand monster-like?” Jackson gives a bad impression of one, hunching his back andmaking a contorted expression.

“What gave you that idea?”

“Death Note.”

“….”

 ”Any regrets?” Jinyoung asks hesitantly when they part waysat the bridge. The crowd of spirits hovering by as they wait to cross one byone. “Plenty,” Jackson says grimly before running a hand through his hairawkwardly. “But then again, I guess regrets in life make the next lifeworthwhile.”

“Perhaps,” Jinyoung says, eyes casting down. The flames ofthe fire wavers, shadows dancing upon the stone walls. Jinyoung gives Jackson asmall smile before whispering his farewell, cloak melding into the darkness.

 Jaebum gives the document a stamp, tossing it into the stackwith the other folders. “You hear that? Regrets are to make the next life worthwhile.” Jinyoung gives him a scowl,“When was overhearing a part of your hobbies?” The raven haired male onlyshrugs. “They say that fate transcends three lives of reincarnation.”

“Perhaps,”

“So are you ready to be fired or resign before you’reofficially fired?”

“Fired so you can now compensate me my salary.”

“You can’t even use this money in the next life!” Jaebumshouts.

“Then save it up for my next, next afterlife.” Jinyoungpans, silk robes fluttering behind him as he turns around.

[say-duhnelle]

ok I gotta know what the fuck happened in Sherlock bc people are FREAKING OUT

so um i don’t know how caught up you are but (spoilers ahead, obviously)

this whole season has seemed off- the characterization, the storytelling, the very jumpy, hole-ridden plot that has not matched up AT ALL with what was foreshadowed previously or really any sort of linear narrative at all, it’s all been a mess. So a lot of people were theorizing there was deliberate alteration going on this season - either we were presented a lie, being told to protect someone’s innocence (alibi theory), or Sherlock had never woken up from the gunshot in HLV/drug trip in TAB and everything was occurring in his mind (EMP theory). This was also backed up by other Fucky Stuff ™ such as really glaring obvious continuity errors that would have required actual effort to create (like walls turning different colors and a painting in 221B being lit up differently at random) and John ignoring his child 99% of the time and Sherlock’s birthday being at the wrong time of year and pretty much every character reusing lines that had previously been Moriarty’s.

theeeeeen, on thursday, the preview of TFP at the BFI was held. no one was required to sign an NDA (Fucky Stuff ™), so spoilers got out, and based on details a lot of BNF started to theorize that the version shown at the screening was incomplete, altered, or even completely fake. this theory was partially based on s4 sharing a tagline (It’s Not Just A Game Anymore) with the Clue movie, which infamously had multiple endings. another theory, based on a line in the show last week (”people always give up after 3″) was that a secret 4th episode would be announced when TFP ended.

yesterday, the episode as shown at the BFI leaked on the site of the Russian channel that airs Sherlock - complete and in HD. earlier today, the Turkish affiliate released it (in English with subtitles this time). and like… the BBC did nothing about it. The showrunners and the official show Twitter tweeted something like “the episode has leaked, please keep the secrets”, but the leaked episodes were not taken down (I literally watched the Turkish one on their site as the TV version was airing in the UK lol) and there was no action taken by a legal team that is normally extraordinarily tight fisted re. this show (according to people who were in the fandom in previous seasons, leaking spoilers could get your blog taken down). So naturally, large portions of the fandom are now convinced it has to be fake, otherwise they would at least act like they care, right?

Well, the show aired and turns out this wasn’t the case. And despite the entire marketing cycle (until this very morning) having been all about how this episode would be GROUNDBREAKING and TELEVISION HISTORY and INSANE WISH FULFILLMENT and TYING UP LOOSE ENDS and CLIMAX OF 7 YEARS OF BUILDUP and so on… it was terrible. I’m not even talking about no Johnlock:

the whole thing started with just writing off last week’s cliffhanger in one majorly underwhelming sentence

the entire plot was a reach; any “buildup” we got for it occurred exclusively in s4, not over the whole series arc

it also involved playing the “mental illness = danger to society” trope for shits and giggles so there’s that

there were multiple gaping, obvious plotholes in the same vein as the earlier s4 episodes (and none of those holes were stitched up including but not limited to:

the main characters surviving an explosion that resulted in a fall from an upstairs window with NO injury whatsoever

John being chained up in a well and then the chains magically disappearing one transition later

Sherlock’s villain!sister being able to control people’s minds, apparently

and Sherlock being able to apparently enter HER mind/the whole airplane thing just doesn’t add up)

there was a lot of ridiculous, over-the-top pastiche of horror movies like saw and ring

3 Garridebs, perhaps the most emotional climax in the ACD canon, was completely squandered - played for laughs with nothing of the original plot retained beyond names

Victor Trevor, another story fans have been expecting would be a Big Moment if it was adapted, was almost an afterthought despite being the point of the whole episode - we got no real info on who he was, his relationship to Sherlock, or really even why Euros killed him

all the buildup about Moriarty went nowhere meaningful either

the love confession from the trailer was coerced and actually ruined Sherlock’s relationship with the person he said it to (Molly)

the cinematography and visual style characteristic of the show were almost completely absent

there was little to no variety of location, the sets used in the lion’s share of the episode looked cheap, and there were almost no special or practical effects (unlike every other episode) and what was there was cheap and terrible looking

despite being promised “loads of new music, every note composed with love” by the composers themselves, there was maybe one cue that was not an exact copy of music from earlier episodes

at the end of the episode, a voiceover from Mary (who died two episodes ago I might add) says that “it’s not who you really are that matters, it’s the story, the legend” as the series’ Big Ending Moment when literally every episode up to this point has been about the exact opposite of that so yeah that felt cheap af

there was a lot of other just over-the-top stuff like Sherlock commandeering a boat in the most ridiculous manner ever and creepy clowns and portraits crying blood and umbrellaswordgun and Elephant Glass and Uncle Rudy and and and and

and the “seems fake but ok” nature of the last two episodes continued to be the case in this one

and yeah okay after last week when J&S finally got back together as friends with dead!Mary imploring John to be the man he wants to be and John telling Sherlock that romance would complete him as a person and The Hug, yeah, not getting Johnlock was pretty surprising considering that these writers have been outspokenly pro-textual gays and anti-queerbaiting in many panels and interviews they’ve given

We got no real answers for any of the existing questions, opened up a lot more, and the whole thing felt cheap and poorly thought out. so yeah even though my life doesn’t hinge on canon johnlock like a lot of fans, I still feel ripped off because this thing was a hot goddamn mess. TAB + S4 have also included what at least seemed to be some really obvious shoutouts to TJLC theories, and of course they noticed, so they’re feeling REALLY led on. And since it was strongly implied during publicity that this was either the last season ever, or at least the last one for a realllllllllllllly long time (i’d guess 5+ years) they are going stark raving mad thinking this is all they’re going to get, that this mess is where Moftiss really intend to end this. (There were no extra scenes, nor has there been any announcement thus far about a secret/bonus episode.)

Moffatt actually said in an interview earlier this year that TFP was the single piece of his writing that he was most proud of and like if that’s true… then every negative opinion people have of him is totally, completely, and absolutely justified because this episode was unequivocally trash.

[ortheaux]

the day i’ve had today was, as is becoming usual, unreal lol. (i’m fine! work stuff)

i got an email last night from one of my managers about a position in the department that i’m waiting to move to, and he said he had forgotten to email me about an opening and forwarded me the email. when i opened it, it said that the deadline was a week ago so after a bunch of hullabaloo he told me that he’d called and i could go for the interviews the next day/today. i was freaked out because it came from nowhere, but i decided i would just gather myself and go so i made it work.

i had an awkward time getting there (i was already stressed out about something else that i’ll talk about in a sec) and it took hours, and i got lost on the way - but once i’d made it, i learned IN front of the interviewer that he put me in for an ambulance technical communications lead position as opposed to the normal ambulance control i applied for, and we were all flustered and it was awkward, i can’t even front. i had to completely wing the interview and discuss a totally different skill set than the one i had agreed, and i was then totally unprepared for the interview that i had prepared last minute for lmao. they kept offering me things because i was so obviously flustered and afterwards, they asked me to stick around but i politely made my excuses and rushed out.

i start training at the end of march, but like the whole thing was so difficult and awkward and it’s like, i lowkey felt a bit upset with my colleague for putting me in this position? like he already neglected to send me the original invitation AND then the whole welcome pack again last night so i had no idea what was going on, i just knew i had to go and i had to go soon and the whole thing was just so frantic, like everyone knows i just got back from a crisis retreat, i wish that it felt like even one person had any consideration for that and how fragile (ew.) i kind of am whilst i’m trying to rebuild things here - i don’t need people to bend over backwards or anything, like just do your job and maybe also just some consideration from even one person jfc. just one. this whole fussy, absolute shitshow of a day could def have been avoided and i just find it so disappointing and annoying. still, the journey home was nice since i wasn’t rushing across London, i was just looking at all the architecture of the city for a couple of hours whilst i passed through, and trying to just centre myself. i realised that i kind of love wireless over-ear headphones too lmao don’t @ me! it’s nice not to have to mess with the wires on the go!

just as i was getting ready for the interview though, my partner popped up and had some more stuff to say, this time about a vague plan for opening a business in Thailand and he asked me again if i wanted to fly out there. in essence, the conversation ended up just confusing me and stressing me out before i got ready as well as made me run later than i wanted, but at this point it’s unfortunately pretty typical that he just pops in and out of my life whilst he’s away and kind of stresses me out. i don’t think he means to per se, he just doesn’t really think about it or anything i might have to do. it just adds to me just feeling the way i do this evening, i just constantly feel like an afterthought to everyone and i’m a bit overly aware of how much the people interacting me don’t think about how that might affect me - even whilst i’m feeling like this and pushing to try not to give up. so, i had my first relapse today.

one of my big therapy blocks starts next Tuesday, which i’m honestly so relieved by. i’m looking forwards to it, which i know is weird maybe but i just want to fortify myself up top and i want to start healing the core issues so i’m just thankful that i can, y’know? the big trauma clinic thing starts at the end of the month, and so does my illness support group referral so it’s a lot of reparation focus from next tuesday. i’m grateful, i feel like i’m hanging on by a thread sometimes. i’m doing my best, and i can force myself out of the house for productivity related stuff but it’s hard sometimes, and i feel pretty confused about my personal life. i need to straighten myself out bc i still feel like a lot of stuff is all tied up in knots! about the relapse, it isn’t huge on the grand scheme of things. i don’t binge drink so essentially I’ve just had a big glass of wine lol but it still stings for me. it feels like failure but i understand how i got there. i’m not really having a good time in general, y’know? the funniest thing with PTSD is the fact that when you’re hurting the most, is when you become the most quiet. i’m gonna be okay though, i just wish i could find some tenderness in the world sometimes. lately it feels like i can’t find it unless i create it.

admittedly, the fact that i’ve shut everyone out doesn’t help though! i just have no idea what to do with any of them; i’m still battling the idea that they’re better off like not hearing from me whilst i’m like this - but it’s all way harder without my person. still, i can do it, i’ll figure it all out. i think one of the best lessons i’ve ever learned in life is that when you hit rock bottom or are in/coming out of a really rough patch, it’s a lot of forcing yourself to do stuff you don’t want to do until the tangible positive results of that bring your motivation and desires back - and that one rule helps me stay productive even during the worst times in my life! i might be struggling to maintain my shower schedule, but i’m still forcing myself in there on important days and hitting interviews with zero notice and going to all medical appointments somehow lol, planning and moving stuff around etc and when you actually recover, you really thank your past self for not letting your practical life fall apart during this rough patch. just gotta keep my eyes forward and pray to avoid some pain maybe, at the risk of sounding dramatic or whatever lmao