#and eventually write my current project for it

[yoursjaeyun]

𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 — 𝐩𝐬𝐡.

𝐩airing. ex bf!sunghoon x reader

𝐬ypnosis. nearly a year after your messy breakup, you and sunghoon cross paths again at a business party— different lives, same unresolved feelings. but when the night ends and you can’t drive yourself home, an unexpected car ride forces the two of you to face the words you’ve never said, and the love you never really let go.

𝐠enre. angst angst angst, romance, ex-lovers to ???, tension, suggestive

𝐰arnings. suggestive themes, mild sexual tension ( implied sex ), partial undressing, heated makeout, alcohol consumption, angst

𝐰c. 2.5k to 3k

𝐚/𝐧. idk guys i haven’t really seen many enhypen angst lately sooo i kinda wanted to try writing one myself:) it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written anything like this so pls be nice LMAO… its pretty short too so pls don’t be disappointed </3 anyway enjoy the pain <3

🤍🎵 inspired by — on the drive home by NIKI ( listen while reading for max pain! lol )

reblogs are appreciated !!

your friend— your current business partner, had finally closed the deal of a lifetime. a celebratory event was needed. they invited everyone involved in the project: investors, collaborators, mutual connections from back when everything was just a rough idea scrawled on paper.

you were here to support them. smile, nod, make polite conversation. try not to look too out of place in heels that quite literally pinched at your toes.

you stood near the tall windows, drink in hand, your coworkers talking beside you as you let the familiar sound of their voices fade into the background.

you weren’t exactly thrilled to be here, but you weren’t dreading it either.

or at least… you hadn’t been.

because who you didn’t expect to see was park sunghoon. your ex. right because you both worked in the same business—well, technically. seperate branches, different departments, hardly ever crossing paths.

and yet, there he was. across the room. near the bar. talking to someone you didn’t recognize, dressed in a black suit that fit him too well, his hair perfectly styled like he hadn’t spent the past year out of your life.

you felt your breath hitch slightly, chest tightened as your heart raced.

he looked… the same. annoyingly the same.

and then, as if drawn by the weight of your stare, his eyes found yours.

time paused.

and then he looked away.

you eventually did the same before downing the rest of your glass faster than you should have, sweetness hitting too sharp on your tongue.

“easy there, y/n,” one of your coworkers chuckled lightly beside you, “you alright?”

you forced a smile, waving them off. “yeah,” you pursed your lips. “just celebrating.”

somewhere between your third and fourth glass, the warmth of the wine settled in your chest, making everything feel a little fuzzier, but your emotions, somehow, felt harder to keep in check.

you barely had a moment to collect yourself before you felt someone step up beside you.

“is that… who i think it is?”

jennifer. your closest friend and coworker, the only person who knew the full story. you kept your gaze fixed on your glass, swirling the last bit of wine at the bottom.

“unfortunately.”

“don’t look,” you hissed under your breath, shooting her a quick side-eye. but she only gave you a knowing smile, tilting her head slightly.

“tell him that. he was already looking over here anyway.” she leaned in slightly, “like full-on staring. i thought my lipgloss was smudged or something.”

you sighed. “great. just what i needed tonight.”

“do you want to leave?” she offered, and you shook your head. “no. i’m fine. i’m not going to let him ruin this for me.” — “attagirl,” she smiled, bumping her shoulder against yours. “still… proud of you for coming. i know it’s not easy.”

you let out a quiet laugh. “is that your way of saying i looked like i was gonna bail?”

“a little,” she grinned, not denying it. “but i also knew you wouldn’t. you’re stubborn like that.” you rolled your eyes.

“thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“anytime.” she nudged your arm, giving you a sidelong glance. “you gonna talk to him?”

you paused, heart skipping in your chest.

“no.”

“you sure?”

“positive.”

“okay. but if you change your mind…” she wiggled her brows. “drama’s always more fun when i’m there to witness it.” you couldn’t help but laugh.

“tempting. really tempting.”

looking back at him, you looked down at your glass once again. “you know what, i might just go home early tonight, actually.” jennifer raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for you to explain. “i think i need some fresh air.” you gave a small, tired smile. “i’ll catch up later.”

she nodded, concern flickering in her eyes. “alright. but promise me you’ll text if you need anything.”

“i will.”

you set your glass down gently and started to step away. “stay until the end for me, yeah? and tell the others i’m leaving for now, don’t want anyone wondering.”

jennifer smiled warmly. “of course. go take care of yourself.” you gave her a grateful nod, then turned toward the exit, mentally preparing yourself to slip out unnoticed.

but fate clearly had other plans.

because standing right in your path — of course — was him.

you kept your eyes down, focused on weaving past the crowd, just a few more steps and you’d be out of here— and then your heel caught on the edge of the carpet. you stumbled forward, heart leaping to your throat— but before you could hit the floor, a hand shot out, catching your arm.

“careful,” his voice came low.

you froze.

“sorry,” you mumbled quickly, avoiding eye contact. you pulled your arm free gently, almost like it hurt to leave his grasp, and hurried outside before you could think twice.

you cursed under your breath, reaching down to yank off your heels. the sharp sting of forming blisters had finally pushed you over the edge. “stupid heels,” you muttered, wincing as you flexed your sore feet, gripping the heels in one hand while pacing toward the curb.

behind you, through the glass doors, sunghoon watched. his brow furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line.

you stood by the curb, the cool air brushing against your shoulders, shoes hanging from your fingers, your breath fogging up in the night. the sounds of the party drifted through the doors behind you. you thought maybe you��d made it out without having to deal with anything else tonight.

but then—

the door creaked open, and you heard footsteps approaching slowly.

you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“going somewhere barefoot?”

his voice broke the quiet. you let out a slow breath, forcing a small smile as you kept your gaze ahead. “figured i’d give my feet a break. what’s it to you?”

then there was a long pause.

“give me your keys.”

you finally turned just enough to see him standing there, coat over his shoulders, his expression cold and serious.

“i can take care of myself, sunghoon.”

“you’ve been drinking.”

“so has everyone else tonight.”

he scoffed softly, shaking his head like he’d heard this before. “don’t be difficult.”

your feet ached, your head felt heavy, and honestly… you were too tired to argue tonight. you tightened your grip on your shoes, sighing in defeat. “fine.” you fished your keys out of your clutch and tossed them to him without much thought. he caught them easily, of course.

“come on,” he said, nodding toward the lot. and you followed, dragging your steps a little behind him.

the walk to your car felt longer than it was. when he unlocked it and held open the passenger door, you slipped in, setting your shoes on the floor and smoothed down your dress. he shut the door, and the quiet settled in again. you turned toward the window, arms crossed.

it had almost been a year. and somehow, it still felt familiar.

sunghoon closed the door gently, then circled around to the driver’s side. the engine started with a low hum, dashboard lights flickering to life between you. and for a while, neither of you spoke. the only sounds were the quiet rumble of the car and some soft instrumental song playing on the radio.

he pulled out of the parking lot, his eyes fixed straight ahead. and then, after what felt like forever, he finally spoke.

“how was the party?”

you kept your eyes on the window, watching the streetlights blur past. then a dry laugh slipped out.

“like every other one.”

he hummed quietly. “busy. loud. full of people you don’t really want to talk to.” you glanced at him briefly,“you remember.” the corner of your mouth pulling into a small, tired smile.

“i remember a lot of things.” his voice was softer this time, holding back a grin.

and just like that, it was silence again.

the car rolled on through the empty streets, you thought that would be it. just small talk to pass the time. but then—

“you looked happy tonight.”

your stomach twisted. you turned a little, still watching the streets blur past your window. your brows pulled together. “happy?”

“yeah,” he let out a faint, humorless laugh. “laughing with your coworkers, having a good time. i haven’t… seen you like that in a while.”

you breathed in slowly, heat creeping up your chest. “thats what you noticed?” he flicked the turn signal on, his eyes never leaving the road. “what else was i supposed to notice?” your fingers curled into your lap. “maybe how miserable i felt the whole time. how fake that laugh was.” the words slipped out before you could stop them.

he exhaled, jaw tightening. “you think i didn’t notice that too?” you fell quiet, biting the inside of your cheek, trying to hold yourself together.

“i still notice, y/n. whether you want me to or not.” and that was when your chest finally gave in a little.

“well, what good does that do now?” your words came out harsher than you meant. but he didn’t answer. you waited for it—another cold remark, but all he did was tighten his jaw, knuckles pale against the steering wheel.

he didn’t want to mess this up the second time.

you let out a quiet scoff, shaking your head as you leaned back in your seat. “still quiet when it matters, huh?”

nothing.

you watched the street signs blur past, and as he took the next turn without hesitation, you realised he still remembered. the way to your place. and you hadn’t said a word.

“right. still remember my address,” you muttered under your breath, “figured.” but he still stayed quiet.

unbelievable.

a few minutes later, the car slowed in front of your apartment building and you didn’t give yourself time to think as you unbuckled your seatbelt, slipped your heels back on, and pushed open the door all in one rushed motion. the cool night air hit your skin, but it didn’t do much to clear your head.

“thanks.” thats all you mumbled before stepping out, not bothering to look back, your heels tapping quietly against the pavement as you walked away.

“y/n.”

his voice stopped you in your tracks, and slowly, carefully, you turned around.

“your keys.” he held your keys in the air.

right.

you let out a tired sigh, your steps slow as you walked back toward him— but as your fingers brushed against his, he pulled his hand back.

he can’t be doing this right now.

“sunghoon.”

his name came out more of a warning than anything else, but he didn’t move. instead, his eyes finally met yours. “is that it?” his voice wavered slightly, barely enough to notice, but you caught it.

“after everything thats all you have to say?”

your stomach sank, but you forced your face to stay still. “what do you want me to say, sunghoon?”

“something. anything.” he let out a dry, tired laugh. “i drove you home, i… i haven’t seen you in almost a year, and all i get is a ‘thanks’ like i’m just some stranger giving you a ride?” you clenched your jaw, feeling the sting behind your eyes start to build.

“what do you expect me to do? fall apart in front of you? again?”

his grip on the keys tightened. “no. i expect you to stop acting like none of it mattered.”

“stop putting words in my mouth!” you snapped, your voice shaking even though you tried to hold steady. “it mattered. it meant everything. that’s why i can’t talk about it.” and for a second, neither of you said anything.

“then why did you leave?” his voice barely audible.

“why didn’t you fight for us?”

you laughed, but it came out weak. “i was fighting, sunghoon. every single day. i just got tired of fighting alone.”

that shut him up.

his shoulders lowered a little, like your words finally hit where it hurt. you bit your lip, holding yourself together.

“give me my keys.” your voice broke.

he hesitated first— but finally, without saying anything, he placed them in your palm, his fingers brushing yours, long enough to make your heart ache all over again.

you turned on your heel, gripping the keys so tight they dug into your palm. but you barely got two steps away before his voice stopped you again.

“y/n, wait.”

not again.

you closed your eyes, shoulders tense. “please, sunghoon… just let me go home.” if i stay any longer, i’ll love you again and i can’t survive that twice…

you heard his footsteps, felt the space between you close in until his presence was right there, behind you, even though he wasn’t touching you. “do you really want this to be the last time we talk?” his voice cracked on the last word. “don’t do this,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

“i can’t do this anymore.” the words spilled. “acting like i’ve moved on when every part of me still looks for you. when i laugh, i wish you were there to hear it. when something good happens, you’re still the first person i want to tell. it’s always been you. it’s still you.”

you bit down hard on your lip, but it didn’t stop the tears from falling, no matter how hard you tried. “i thought you didn’t care anymore,” you breathed out, wiping at your face quickly.

“i thought you stopped loving me.”

he let out a hollow laugh, “i never stopped. god, i never stopped.” your shoulders trembled as you tried to hold yourself together, heart breaking in a way that felt too familiar.

you turned around to face him. eyes puffy, cheeks damp—

“then why did you let me go?”

and for once, he didn’t have an answer.

all you could hear was your own uneven breathing, your heart pounding painfully against your chest. sunghoon stood there, staring at you like your words had knocked the air right out of him. his lips parted, like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

and maybe that silence said it all.

you let out a bitter scoff, shaking your head. “that’s what i thought.” you turned to leave again, but this time, he didn’t let you.

his hand caught your wrist, gentle but firm, pulling you back toward him. before you could think, his other hand cupped your face and his lips met yours.

it wasn’t careful. it wasn’t soft. it was messy, desperate, full of all the words neither of you knew how to say. your instinct told you to pull away. and you tried, really, you did.

but your heart was tired of running.

instead of pushing him back, your hands grabbed at his jacket, fingers curling into the fabric, holding on like it was the only thing keeping you standing.

because god, you missed him.

you let yourself feel it again. when you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, his forehead rested against yours, “give me a chance,” he whispered, barely holding it together. “one more chance baby, please.”

you kept your eyes closed, heart twisting painfully in your chest, his words hanging between you like a question you didn’t know how to answer.

somehow, between hurried steps and lingering touches, you ended up at the front of your apartment. neither of you really remembered the walk there, just the rush of adrenaline and the weight of everything finally crashing down.

his hands were on your waist, your fingers tangled in his hair, mouths meeting like you’d been starving for this. your back hit the door, breath hitching as his lips trailed along your jaw, your hands tugging at the collar of his jacket, slipping it off his shoulders.

“keys,” you whispered against his mouth, barely able to focus.

he laughed softly, breathless. “later.”

but you still fumbled blindly in your purse, finally unlocking the door with shaking fingers. the second it clicked open, sunghoon guided you inside, the door shutting behind you with a quiet thud.

his coat dropped to the floor somewhere near the entrance. your heels followed, forgotten. you tugged at his tie, loosening it until it slid free, his hands slipping beneath the straps of your dress, clothes fell away in pieces, like neither of you wanted to waste another second.

it wasn’t perfect.

it was real.

for the first time in months, it finally felt like you could breathe again.

you barely made it past the front door before sunghoon’s hands found your waist again, guiding you toward the couch in the dim light of the living room. you fell onto it together, laughter mixing with shallow breaths, his arms wrapping around you like he didn’t want to let go.

you straddled his lap, knees pressed against the cushions, his hands resting on your hips as you leaned in, kissing him again—slower this time, more like you were taking your time to memorize him all over again.

when you finally pulled back, your breath warm against his skin, your eyes drifted down. his shirt was halfway undone, the buttons you’d tugged loose now leaving his chest exposed.

you just… stared.

all the noise faded, leaving only the rise and fall of his chest and the steady way he looked back at you. “what?” he asked quietly, the corner of his lips tugging up in a smirk.

you shook your head, a smile tugging at your own lips despite yourself. “nothing. just… forgot how annoyingly good you look.”

he laughed. “you’re one to talk.”

you ran your fingers gently along his collarbone, tracing the familiar lines. “this feels… strange. weird, kind of.” you mutter. “yeah,” he whispered, hands squeezing your waist a little. “but it feels right, doesn’t it?” his smile softened, eyes searching yours for just a second longer before he leaned in again, lips brushing against your jaw, then lower, against the side of your neck.

you exhaled deeply, hands tightening slightly around his neck as his mouth found that familiar spot just below your ear. he kissed you slowly there, like he had all the time in the world, like he wasn’t planning on letting you slip away this time.

you nodded, closing your eyes. “yeah… it does.”

his smile turned a little smug, eyes lingering on yours like he already knew what you were thinking. “knew you’d miss me,” he teased softly, brushing his lips along your skin. “you always do.”

before you could roll your eyes, his mouth found the curve of your neck, kissing it slow. and he knew exactly what he was doing.

“don’t flatter yourself,” you managed, voice breathless but not exactly convincing.

he chuckled against your skin, the sound sending goosebumps down your arms. “too late,” he whispered against your ear.

“your face says it all baby.”

you let out a shaky laugh, tilting your head slightly as his hands slid up your waist.

“shut up and keep kissing me,”

and he did—gladly.

YOURSJAEYUN est. 2025 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[crees-a]

I want to start writing down big changes of my personal vision of SAMS from canon SAMS

- Earth doesn't do therapy sessions, instead she has something like "meditation hours" when you sit on beanbags facing each other, drink green tea and chat or don't speak at all just enjoying each other's company

- Earth and Monty aren't dating. Monty does have a crush on her but currently they are just close friends. She helps him overcome his anger issues and his toxic behavior in general

- Dazzle doesn't live with Sun. She either lives with her real parents or adopted by someone else, sometimes visiting Sun and Jack

- Nexus is cured from nsp and lives in the basement but you know that. Eventually he will recover from everything and move out but will also visit from time to time

- Sun and Moon's house has 3 rooms on the second floor (one for Sun, one for Moon, one for Solar and Jack), 1 room for Earth that takes both floors (it has a really high ceiling), one the first floor there is a living room directly connected to the kitchen area. And a basement. Their house is a regular human house but doubled in size

- Nobody is dating astrals

- Lefty, Timer, KC are alive because I don't understand the need to kill these specific characters

- Trashcan was a real alien. Him and Creator are probably also alive (just cause I miss them)

- Astrals are giant and less humanoid, more body horror-ish. Each of them is a light projection of the main star in their constellation. Same goes for dark entities but they are rather black holes than stars. Some of them also represent the apocalypse with Kerian as a pestilence and Rez as a famine. There are lesser stars and lesser dark entities: Nebula, Lunar, every wither storm and Nexus at some point

I will add more later

[trust-is-a-dangerous-thing]

I swear there's more Nightmare!AU stuff coming, I almost have the next one ready, but I'm also working on a couple other things so it's taking a little while. The things in question, if anyone is interested:

Worse Things - An actual 141 x reader fic based off of the Nightmare!AU that follows reader through their joining of 141 and everything that happens from there---I have no idea how long it'll be, but I'm thinking about 15-20 chapters is the range I want to shoot for.

Bumps and Bruises - Another fic based off of one of my posts, but this one is based on the medical headcanons post I made for the 141 guys, where reader works in the medical center and has to deal with all their bullshit---and reader's stubbornness and refusal to take "no, you're not treating me" for an answer lowkey makes them fall head-over-heels. This one I'm thinking is gonna be about 10-15 chapters, since I want it to be short and sweet.

trust is a dangerous thing - This one is my blog's namesake! It's going to be my main long-form fic, following my OC Morgan as she joins 141 and struggles to get her footing, and eventually develops a relationship with Simon. I'm hoping to make this one...very very long, let's just say :)

And finally-

Vampire!AU - Where vampires exist but are very rare, reader is one of them and gets assigned to TF141 but obviously struggles to fit in/adjust at the compound because of their condition and the stereotypes/rumors spread about vampires. This one is going to be a series of concepts at first, like the Nightmare!AU is currently, but depending on how popular it gets I'll likely make a fic out of this one as well.

All of this to say that I'm still very much writing shit, it's just taking a while to get out because of all the projects I have going at one time.

[ein-asahina]

crystal grey’s playlist! + explanations for why the songs are on there

the ein post is coming… eventually. you have @mysticlael to blame for this [silly]

i do think i need to rework her playlist, as you’ll see some of these have to do with her old lore! my writing is still buns. i love being cringe.

hansel by soddiken - this tied in more to her old lore, but some of the bits are still accurate, mainly how people only really saw her for “ein’s sister” instead of, you know, an actual person. fun fact! i discovered this song through a heidi turner edit. gretel is on ein’s playlist. you’ll see why in a separate post.

kleptomaniacrow by madilyn mei - literally her only interaction with the snake eyed man where she gets a potion put on her :/ that’s the best way i can explain it.

the milk carton by madilyn mei - this used to be her voice claim! it’s her character during emerald secret.

amygdala’s rag doll by ghost and pals - her in when angels fall!

i’d rather sleep by kero kero bonito - idk. it just fits her.

ship in a bottle by fin - same thing. sorry.

echo by crusher-p - this is her arc during s6, where in her mission to find and kill her brother… she becomes more like him. hence the “echo in the mirror.” (i discovered this song via a hollyleaf warrior cats amv. also, i’m currently trying to ap the master chart on pjsk! this was my introduction to vocaloid.)

the moon will sing by the crane wives - crystal’s resentment towards her brother for overshadowing her.

the hand that feeds by the crane wives - she HATES micheal. that’s all i’m gonna say. this is also on ein’s playlist.

kute by alex g - ?? i don’t know. it’s crystal coded to me.

mouthwash by kate nash - again. it just makes sense to me. i first heard this song through a brightheart amv!

catabolic seed by the scary jokes - s5/s6 crystal

¿viva la gloria? (little girl) by green day - i think this is also her s4 arc. she has a theme of “running away” in this season. coincidently, this is also the last season where she lives with her brother!

rule #4 - fish in a birdcage by… fish in a birdcage - her “dependence” on ein i guess?

sin triangle by sidney gish - her feeling out of place around the rest of the mystreet gang!

canary in a coal mine by the crane wives - this doesn’t really fit crystal lore-wise. however. i still think it has her vibes.

curses by the crane wives - this entire song is so emerald secret to me.

i know things now from the into the woods musical - do not go on a business trip with your brother to the middle of nowhere.

missing mr. cat / the milk carton reprise by madilyn mei - the mystreet gang realizes that “hey! that girl’s missing!” and then it turns out she got stabbed through the head. (when angels fall btw)

language of the lost by riproducer - post lodge incident crystal, believing that there is something wrong with her.

partner in crime by madilyn mei - crystal’s slow realization that maybe her brother isn’t a great person! she’s… not sure how to deal with this information.

misery meat by soddiken - another song that’s from her old lore. it’s only here now for the parallel (since people eater is on ein’s.)

abbey by mitski - aphmau’s year/s5 crystal, not knowing what to do with herself

the chattering lack of common sense by ghost and pals - i do not know how to explain it. but this is crystal and ein.

sleeping in the kitchen by madilyn mei and addison grace - crystal and melissa form a friendship!

copycat by circusp - hey remember that thing i said about her slowly becoming her brother? yeah this is that

hyperdontia by creepp and ghost and pals - it’s here for fun. if ein gets a song about being a dentist crystal gets a song with a teeth motive too. (hyperdontia is a condition where you have extra teeth in your mouth!)

i bet on losing dogs by mitski - she almost did not survive emerald secret.

kanade’s music box song from project sekai - i don’t know what the song is called. sorry. the context is that this is a song that kanade’s dad made before he got sent to the hospital for overwork if i remember correctly? said context also does not matter in this. it just fits her vibe.

servant of evil by mothy - it doesn’t fit her as well as daughter of evil does with ein. but. close enough. the servant and daughter of evil are siblings and the daughter almost gets executed. however ☝️ the servant dresses up as her and takes her place in the guillotine. it’s them coded in a way.

hole-dwelling by kikuo - this was oomf’s suggestion! if you remove the romantic context of the song it’s kinda her in s4?

once upon a december from anastasia the musical - i have not watched the musical. i do not know what’s going on. this is very emerald secret to me.

cold island from my singing monsters - i think there was an animation meme going around with this song. and i wanted to do it with crystal.

bitter chocolate decoration (nightcord at 25:00 cover) - this song is about autistic masking. need i say more.

harvey by alex g - here because i wanted to do an animation with it. i think it’s aphmau’s year crystal?

one sheep (vivid bad squad cover) - that’s an english translation of the song. yes i’m using the pjsk covers because they’re fire. yet again another es!crystal song… though you could say some of this could fit her waf character

things to do by alex g - poor girl is going through it in s6. her best friend gets shot. her brother’s here but there’s something wrong with him, but nobody believes you! so you have to take care of it yourself.

give me novacaine by green day - i think this is one of my favorite songs by green day. i’m actually not entirely sure why it’s here? may have something to do with forever potions?

lagtrain (both the original by inabakumori and a cover by will stetson) - waf!crystal.

bug (will stetson cover) - there is a singular line that suits her. i really like his cover of this song

a little bit of love by weezer - starlight crystal when she gets to be a little joyous… as a treat.

forwards beckon rebound - her death scene.

entomologists by ghost and pals - i guess this would fit her lab counterpart better? but the theme of wanting to be left alone is her in aphmau’s year.

queen of nothing by the crane wives - both waf!crystal and ein’s arcs… ending with him standing over her dead body.

housewife radio by ghost and pals - i wanted to do the animation meme with her

allies or enemies by the crane wives - crystal is unsure what to think of her brother.

pearl diver by mitski - i don’t know. i listened to the song and i was like “yeah that’s her” and i cannot tell you why.

rises the moon by liana flores - this was my gf’s favorite song at a point in time. this is also aphmau’s year/starlight crystal. she shall persevere.

animal cannibal (possibly in michigan) (the buckshot princess cover because they took the original off spotify and i’m STILL mad about that…) - “how do i meet the strangest men?” see. i hate to tell you this. but your brother volunteered you to be the test subject for that potion.

bird cage blue and yellow by yaelokre - my girlfriend’s suggestion. it’s her in the irene dimension!

icarus by the crane wives - “oh my brother, who have you become in all the wake that’s happened here?” and it’s only there for that specific line.

what’s going on?! by madilyn mei - again, crystal feels out of place around the rest of the mystreet cast.

sinking town by yoeko kurahashi - i did the animation meme with her! you can find it here

chasing it down by mother mother - it’s very when angels fall coded, at least the first half. “it” refers to ein.

[headfullof-ideas]

Some Draw the Squad memes of my Next Gen OC’s. These aren’t all the ones I’ve done, I’ll post the rest once I’ve revealed which kiddo belongs to which parent

[c-infinity-83]

we have. a lot. of drawing. to do. this month. and. lots. of drawing. ideas.

Flo. wants. to write about. the effects of. Hanahaki disease. in our system. and how it. manifests. in the headspace. and then. do drawings based on that. if that makes sense. and i think. that would be fun. but we. already. have enough art to draw this month. so that. will probably have to wait. until the new year.

[beatcroc]

listen. i love pizza tower with my whole heart & mind. you know this. you Know. but first and foremost i am a character design bitch, and the pizzas are, frankly, very bland. this is not a critique or a complaint, because obviously That's Not The Point and more importantly i would be horrified if anyone tried doing that much animation with anything more complex than what's there. but also it means when i get a taste of some truly whack ass insane design work again it is like fuuuucking catnip

[savrenim]

I mean nothing is too science-y on a half-joke-half-science post of mine but I was specifically going for nuclear binding energy, not whatever chemical stuff wants to happen, nickel-62 is the true um actually but iron-56 and -58 are the next two most stable elements the universe that we have encountered so far.

but also, this has nothing to do with chemical stability, bc chemical bonds are formed mostly with electromagnetic force and the bonds that are producing binding energy that I'm talking about here that is the like, E=mc^2-atoms-not-weighing-as-much-as-their-constituent-parts stuff, are strong and weak nuclear force, so, like, totally different fundamental force going down and also no longer anywhere close to the area of science that I live in

but look pretty chart and everything I swear I actually know what I'm talking about when it comes to nuclear physics

......suddenly struck by the idea for a piece of worldbuilding of "fae don't like iron bc it is the most stable element*"

*as in elements higher you can extract energy via fission and lower you can extract energy via fusion but iron itself there is no excess binding energy to extract at all

[leori-the-unlearned]

i love arguing and debating and cataloguing character moments but also it is so. wiring AND tiring like what if i read too much into it or make someone mad lol. and then i get tired of it and my brain needs a break while i have that ‘what if it goes wrong what if i did it wrong’ anxiety wiring me into thinking about it.

anyways i’m going to take a nap for 8 hours and feel better about it in the morning :3

[choerrypuffs]

red velvet hearts.

pairing: bad boy!donghyuck x baker!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

synopsis: you patch up a boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, only to find out that he has quite the sweet tooth.

author’s note: why do i keep injuring hyuck in all my fics lmao??? anyways i tried to write his character a bit differently than i usually do to challenge myself so please let me know how you guys like it! also remember, ladies: this is fiction. you cannot fix him <3

warning(s): brief description of injuries, mentions of violence, maximum amounts of cringe and melodrama

playlist: all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine ― heart eyes by coin ― close to you by gracie abrams ― sidelines by phoebe bridgers ― the alchemy by taylor swift

RECIPE 1. TIRAMISU

“This is not what I meant when I said you need your back blown out.” 

“Not funny. I almost died,” you grumble as you wrap the back brace around your torso. You hate the immediate relief you feel from the support it provides, no longer able to tell yourself that it’s really not as bad as it seems―which only makes you angrier. 

“Throwing your back out while lifting a giant bag of flour and nearly getting crushed to death by said flour is genuinely the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Yeri, your best friend (derogatory), snorts as she shakes her head. “I wish you had cameras in the storage room because I want to see that shit so bad.”

“Thank you for the brace. You can get the hell out now.” You roll your eyes. 

“So, what are you going to do now? Aren’t you swamped with orders?” Yeri asks, ignoring you completely. 

You have no clue what you’re going to do now. It isn’t just orders you have to worry about fulfilling; it’s also the freshly baked pastries that you have to sell every morning. After a year of blood, sweat, and tears, the bakery that you built from the ground up is finally starting to gain some stable business. So, of course, you chose now of all times to try to lift a bag of flour over your shoulder like you were Dwayne The Rock Johnson. 

“I think I’ll have to hire some temporary help,” you answer begrudgingly. 

“You could sound less like someone is holding you at gunpoint,” Yeri snorts, “Come on. It had to happen sooner or later anyway.” 

“I was handling things just fine on my own.”

“Were you, though?” Yeri raises an eyebrow, gesturing to your current state. 

You fear you walked right into that one. “Shut up and help me make some posters.” 

The two of you eventually manage to whip up some haphazard “Help Wanted” posters, the letters written in glitter pen and Yeri’s clumsy bubble text. You tried your best to fill in the empty gaps on the construction paper by placing Pompompurin stickers that you normally give to customers’ kids all over it. The posters look like a nine-year-old girl’s school project gone wrong, but you hope it’s charming enough to catch some attention. 

By the time you and Yeri finish hanging up all the posters, the sun is already starting to set, and all you want to do is go home and put a heating pad on your back. After saying bye to Yeri, you start making your way back to the bakery to lock up. Once you arrive, you notice a figure dressed in black slumped over in front of the door. You can see their shoulders rise up and down as they take in labored breaths, leaning against the glass door for support. 

Every rational fiber in your being screams at you to not approach the stranger alone, but it’s not like you can just leave this person at the front of your place of business. Cautiously taking a step forward, you squat down to eye level with the stranger, wincing slightly from back pain. Through the sweaty and matted mess of his brown fringe, you can see that the stranger is a young man around your age. However, his face is absolutely battered: bloody (and almost certainly broken) nose, split lip, black eye swollen shut, and a jagged cut on his cheek. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t show it, keeping his head hung down.

Gingerly placing a hand on his arm, you give him a small shake. “Excuse me? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?” 

His brows furrow, and he opens an eye (the only one he’s probably able to open) with a wince before lifting a finger and putting it against his lips. You notice that his knuckles are completely scraped raw. 

“Not so loud. I’m okay,” he answers. 

“You don’t look―” 

As if on cue, his stomach rumbles with a guttural growl that slowly drawls into a sputtering gurgle before dying out all together―leaving a long silence to hang between the two of you.

After another beat, he gives you a sheepish smile. “You got anything to eat?” 

You stare at him for a moment; his face is flushed, pink all the way down to his neck. 

And like a stupid horror movie character who opens the door to a room that clearly screams danger, you nod. 

.

.

.

Fortunately, he―Donghyuck, as he introduced himself―ends up not being a crazy ax murderer. 

Unfortunately, you find yourself awkwardly sitting in your closed bakery with a virtual stranger, fiddling with a first aid kit while watching him absolutely devour a piece of leftover tiramisu that you had in your fridge. If the situation wasn’t so insane, you might actually think it was pretty funny. For someone who looks the way he does, this current picture of Donghyuck absolutely doesn’t suit him―bruised chipmunk cheeks stuffed with ladyfingers and cocoa powder stuck on his split lip. 

When he’s finished, Donghyuck looks over at you with a mesmerized expression on his face, as if you just fed him ambrosia. There’s a softness to his face that you didn’t think could exist underneath all that grime and dried blood. 

“That was…delicious,” he breathes. 

“Thanks,” you snort, pushing a glass of water towards him. Unsurprisingly, he chugs it in the blink of an eye. “I still think you should get those injuries checked out, though.” 

“Nah, I’ll rub a little spit in them and it’ll be fine,” he shrugs. 

“Don’t be gross,” you sigh, scooting your chair closer to him as you set the first aid kit on the table. “Now, come here.” 

Donghyuck reluctantly dips his head, and you carefully cup his jaw for support, disinfecting and applying ointment on the cuts and scrapes on his face. You also clean up the dried blood near his nostrils and on his bottom lip, and he doesn’t flinch even when you accidentally brush tender areas like his broken nose or the gash on his mouth. Instead, he stays perfectly still, leaned back in the chair with his forearms resting on his thighs and fingers nonchalantly laced together. 

He keeps his gaze trained on something past your shoulder, and you also try your best to focus, but it’s hard to keep yourself from staring―especially when his demeanor has changed so much. He’s so calm and quiet in such a cold, ruthless manner, as if he’s physically steeling himself from pain―like he’s done this a million times before. Occasionally, you feel his eyes swipe across your face when he thinks you’re not paying attention, and it occurs to you how close the two of you are. Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the heat of his skin against your palm and fingertips, and you rip your hand away from his jaw. 

Clearing your throat, you move onto his hands, dabbing his raw knuckles with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol before placing large band-aids on them. Despite your best efforts, it’s hard not to notice how slim his long fingers are or how surprisingly clean his nail beds are for someone who’s covered in blood. You keep your head completely bent, fighting the urge of looking up and possibly meeting his eyes. 

“There, all done,” you announce a little too loudly. 

“Thank you,” he says softly, “for the cake and for this. For helping me.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t do much,” you blurt, still avoiding eye contact as you clean up the table. However, you notice in your peripheral that his gaze follows your movements, almost hesitantly, before he asks: 

“So, you’re hiring?” 

You click the first-aid kit shut, blinking a few times before turning back to him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“I―yeah. How did you know that?” you ask, puzzled by such a random question. 

Donghyuck points at a poster that you didn’t even know you left here, sitting on the table right behind you. You realize that he was probably looking at it while you were patching him up. 

“That poster that says ‘help wanted.’ With the Pompompurin stickers. I’m actually in between jobs right now, so if you would have me―”

“You know Pompompurin?” you interrupt him. It’s not that important and should not stand out to you as much as it does. Yet, you can’t help but grin at the fact that someone like him knows about a tubby Golden Retriever character with a name that sounds like a mashup of the English language’s most adorable onomatopeias. 

Donghyuck trails off, stiffening as if you just found out his deepest, darkest secret. He opens his mouth slightly, trying to speak but unable to formulate a response―an excuse, rather. Instead, he just lets out an airy cough, putting a hand over his mouth and turning away from you in an attempt to obscure his face. Despite his best efforts, he can’t hide his glowing red ears and the way his earlier coldness melts away.

“I―yeah,” he responds, words slightly muffled by his hand. 

You struggle to maintain your composure as you gnaw on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. Fighting a smile in your voice, you finally say: 

“The pay won’t be that much, but you’ll get a bunch of free desserts at the end of the day. Are you okay with that?” 

It takes him a moment to process that you’re offering him the job, and you watch his eyes light up and a warm smile overtake his face. There’s still a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, clashing with the purple bruising and swelling of his injuries. 

“I’d love nothing more.”

Suddenly, it occurs to you that Donghyuck somewhat reminds you of a tiramisu. 

He may look a bit rugged and grimey, bitter like coffee, but in actuality, underneath it all, he’s soft and fluffy (but not too sweet) like a mascarpone filling. 

RECIPE 2. BLUEBERRY PIE

“Are you out of your mind?”

You cringe away from your phone, hurriedly turning the volume down. “Damn, you don’t have to scream like that.” 

“You should be the one screaming,” Yeri hollers. “I better not come over one day and find your body stuffed in the freezer or something.”

“I thought you wanted me to hire someone!” 

“Not some random dude off the side of the street who was covered in injuries and doesn’t even have any baking experience,” Yeri hisses. 

“I don’t need him to bake. I just have him working the front counter and doing all the heavy lifting when I get my ingredient shipments,” you protest. “Did you think I would really just hand over all my orders to some random dude and go party it up in Cancún or something?” 

Yeri is silent for several seconds before asking, “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“What?”

“So you did know what I meant when I said you needed your back blown out.” You can hear the smugness in her voice. 

“Yeri,” you say tiredly, “please be serious.”

“I am serious. You’re the one being unserious,” she retorts. “Yesterday, you acted like you would rather sacrifice your firstborn child before hiring a part-timer, and now look at you. Dickmatized.” 

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

“So, when do I get to meet him―”

You quickly hit the button to end the call and shove your phone into your pocket, letting out an exasperated sigh. You definitely won’t be hearing the end of that for a while. Your face feels warm for some reason, and you decide that you need a coffee break. After you finish making it, you pour yourself and Donghyuck a cup. 

You peek your head out from the curtain that separates the kitchen and the front counter to see if Donghyuck is busy. He’s politely chatting with an elderly woman, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head when he takes out the entire tray of egg tarts in the glass display and wraps it up for her. The woman happily hands him a wad of bills and waves him goodbye. After putting the cash in the register, Donghyuck turns around and catches you in the middle of gawking. 

“Oh, Y/N. I was actually just about to head back there. We’re out of egg tarts for the display,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Uh, yeah, I can see that,” you whisper loudly, “Was that Mrs. Kim? Why the hell did she order a dozen egg tarts? That woman can barely finish a single cookie.” 

Donghyuck blinks, clearly confused, whispering back, “She asked for my recommendation, so I said egg tarts since no one had bought any yet, and she said she would take all of them.” 

You pause, things finally clicking. Grinning knowingly, you say, “You know, having you work the front is doing wonders for sales.” 

“I don’t understand.” He furrows his brows. 

You laugh, handing him his cup of coffee. “I’m talking about your face card, Donghyuck. You’re too handsome, so you’re flustering the customers.” 

“Are we not whispering anymore?” he asks awkwardly. “Besides, that’s not true. Look at the state of my face right now.” 

His injuries have faded significantly, but the bruising and cuts are still there. You want to tell him that superficial wounds can’t mask the warmth in his caramel-brown eyes, the fullness of his cheeks and the sharp jawline, and the air of mystery that enshrouds him and draws people in. 

But you don’t. 

“Well, for someone who’s only been working here for two weeks, you’re doing superb. Injuries or not.” 

And it’s true. You’ve always preferred to work alone because you’re the only one who understands how you want things done. You naturally assumed it would be a hassle and a waste of time to try to explain to someone else when you could just do it yourself, but Donghyuck never seems to need an explanation. In fact, he knows before even you. 

He gets to the bakery three hours before you, cleans and preps all the equipment you need for the day, unloads the ingredient shipments, and is already manning the front counter by the time you arrive like it was no big deal at all. He also seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when you’re about to do something you shouldn’t be, even though you downplayed your back injury. He’s somehow always there―moving all the stuff you keep on the top shelf to somewhere within your reach even though you insisted that the rickety wooden step stool you use is perfectly safe, cleaning up a glass beaker that you accidentally shattered, taking out the trash during his breaks, checking in on you when you skip lunch. He even turned down his first paycheck, saying it’s repayment for patching him up and feeding him. 

Donghyuck is so perfect that sometimes you wonder if you’re being set up, like maybe he’s secretly embezzling money from the cash register―which would be a more viable theory if he didn’t drive an Audi to work everyday. 

“Thanks for the compliment. And the coffee,” Donghyuck says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He gingerly takes a sip and makes a strangled noise, a mixture being choking and retching, before slapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Are you okay? Was it too hot?” you ask worriedly. 

“No, it’s just…really bitter,” he mumbles, words muffled in his hand. 

“Oh,” you blink, “Sorry. I drink black coffee, so I forgot to ask if you wanted creamer and sugar. Come on, there’s some in the back.” 

The two of you head to the kitchen, and you watch him dump an exorbitant amount of creamer and sugar in his coffee, the dark roast swirling into something more akin to milk tea.

“You know, there might be some chocolate milk in the fridge if you’d rather that,” you tease. 

His head shoots up, those doe eyes lighting up. “Really?” 

“No,” you trail off awkwardly, “Sorry, I'm just messing with you.” 

It’s a bit adorable that you can visibly see him being disappointed in there not being chocolate milk before growing embarrassed, looking down at his cup. He turns away from you, but you can see the flush on the back of his neck. 

“You really have a sweet tooth, huh?” you laugh. 

“Pretty lame, right?” 

“Why would that be lame? You’re talking to someone who owns a bakery, in case you forgot.” 

Donghyuck smiles at you, and it’s sugary sweet like buttercream frosting. He looks at you like you just said the most wonderful thing in the world; in fact, he always makes you feel like that, no matter what you say or do. “I guess you’re right.” 

“What’s your favorite dessert?” you blurt, needing a distraction urgently. 

He pauses briefly. “I don’t think I have one.”

That actually surprises you. “You don’t? Even though you love sweets so much?” 

He laughs, the sound harsh and rough, and it almost makes you flinch. “I’ve never really had an opportunity to have many until now.” 

There’s clearly weight behind his words, but you know you’re not in a position to ask any further. A selfish part of you wants to be important enough to him that you are in a position to know more, but you’re all too aware about him very purposefully keeping you at arm’s length. 

“Well, you have plenty of time to find out,” you quickly continue, pretending not to notice. “Actually, I’m going to a blueberry farm tomorrow because I’m thinking about adding blueberry pie to the menu. When I get back, I’ll bake one for you, and you can be the first to taste test it!” 

“You’re going by yourself?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. 

“Of course. Who else would I go with?” 

“Me. I’ll go with you,” he replies immediately. 

“But it’s, like, a forty-five-minute bus ride to the farm. Plus, coming with me to get ingredients isn’t part of your job description anyway,” you explain. 

“I can’t come with you on my own free time?” he asks, tilting his head. “Besides, I’m worried about you overexerting yourself with that back injury. A bumpy bus ride definitely isn’t going to help, so I’ll drive us there.” 

“You’re going to drive that fancy ass car to a farm? You do realize it’s going to be dirt roads, right?” You cross your arms. 

“I think I’ll live. Besides, what makes you think this is the only fancy ass car I own?” He gives you an amused smile. 

“You’re joking, right?” You stare at him. 

He hesitates for a moment. “Yes.” 

“That doesn’t sound―”

“What time are we leaving tomorrow morning?” 

“...Seven.”

.

.

.

Unsurprisingly, Donghyuck picks you up right on time, not a minute too early or late. As the universe would have it, it rained the night prior―meaning all the dirt roads are now rivers of mud. You wince every time you heard a splat of mud hit Donghyuck’s pristine white car, but he seems to pay no mind to it. The two of you arrive at the farm within twenty minutes (he found a shortcut), and because you came so early, you get the entire farm to yourselves. The staff arms both of you with a large wicker basket each before setting you loose onto the massive property. 

“Okay, make sure to pick the fat ones. The small ones are super tart, so avoid those,” you instruct Donghyuck. “We’re going to fill these baskets to the brim and get our money’s worth.” 

“You got it, Captain.” He salutes. 

You give him a determined nod and a thumbs up before turning to your respective side and beginning to pick the blueberries. The two of you work without much fanfare or conversation, and it’s a silence that lingers between you comfortably. It reassures you to hear the sound of the bushes rustling from Donghyuck working; his companionship alone relaxes you. 

Eventually, when the sun starts peeking through and the weather grows warmer, both of you decide to take a break. You find a spot in the shade before sitting down, pulling out snacks and bottles of water from a backpack Donghyuck brought along. 

“I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, trying to hide a smile. “Close your eyes.” 

He eyes you suspiciously but does so anyway. You fish out a handful of unripe blueberries wrapped in a handkerchief from your pocket and feed some to him. His reaction is nearly instant the moment he starts chewing them; you watch as his face puckers up from how sour they are and his entire body shrivels into itself, a shudder running through him. He’s polite enough to not spit them out, but you’re not polite enough to resist pointing and laughing at him. Throwing your head back, you laugh so hard that your stomach starts to hurt. 

“Oh my God, your face!” 

“Ugh,” Donghyuck groans, taking a big gulp of his water. “I should’ve known you had sinister intentions from the start.” 

“I didn’t think you’d react like that,” you finally manage to say after catching your breath. “You really can’t handle anything except for sweet stuff.” 

“Are you having fun bullying me?” He rolls his eyes. 

“So much fun,” you say in a sing-song voice. 

Donghyuck tries to continue feigning annoyance, but he can’t help the low chuckle that rumbles in his chest. His eyes always soften when he looks at you, and his gaze is intimate like a lover’s―gentle, tender, unwavering, and vulnerable. But his warmth is always fleeting, and he only allows you glimpses of it through the unmoving walls that he’s erected around himself. 

You wish he wouldn’t indulge you so, terrified you’ll try to cross the line he’s drawn between the two of you. 

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck asks, trying to read your expression

“About the delicious pie I’m about to make when we get back,” you smile. 

“I see,” he responds, though it’s clear he isn’t convinced. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You better be. This is how I’m paying you back for driving me here,” you nod. 

“Instead of that, pay me back by telling me what your favorite dessert is,” he suddenly says. “I do still want the pie, though.” 

“That was random,” you snort. “Why do you want to know my favorite dessert?”

“Because you asked me, but you never told me yours.” 

You suppose he has a point, but you find it ironic that he wants to know more about you when he refuses to offer you even a modicum of information about himself. Despite this, you tell him anyway because you are obviously the fool here. 

“If you must know, it’s red velvet cake,” you sigh. 

“Why?” 

You don’t answer at first, carefully thinking about if you’re ready to be vulnerable in front of him―still a virtual stranger. A virtual stranger who loves sweets. A virtual stranger who is a bit of a messy eater. A virtual stranger who knows Pompompurin. A virtual stranger who worries about you even when he’s not on the clock. A virtual stranger who gently tells you to be careful whenever you try to do something dangerous, whispering, “I’ll do it instead.” A virtual stranger who allows his luxury car to be caked in mud for you. 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life,” you finally say. “I baked it for my mom’s birthday, and I think I ended up being more excited than her.” 

Donghyuck stays quiet, gauging your reaction. 

“I was in college, studying to be a doctor like everyone else in my family. So, like a dumb young person who thought that dreams were more important than money, I dropped out of college and went to culinary school. My parents told me I was ruining mine and their lives, disowned me, yada-yada―a bunch of depressing stuff, you know. Eventually, I graduated, took out a huge loan, and opened up my own bakery. Worked a bunch of part-time jobs until my business could stand on its own. Now here I am. Still in debt, though,” you laugh awkwardly. “But I’m not doing too shabby. I was able to hire you, so at least I have a little cash to spare.” 

He still doesn’t say anything, so you find yourself starting to ramble. You’re really not sure what possessed you to trauma dump on him like that. 

“You know, a lot of people talk shit about red velvet cake because they say the only thing that makes it special is the red food coloring,” you hurriedly explain, “but that’s not true. The cream cheese frosting is super important too. Also, I always say love is the most important ingredient of all. As a baker, you’re kind of baring your heart to the customer, and isn’t it kind of cute that red velvet cake is red like a heart? Okay, please say something now or else I think I’m going to projectile vomit.” 

Donghyuck reaches over and brushes a sweaty lock of hair out of your face. His fingers brush over your temple, which makes you sharply suck in a breath. You almost lean into his touch, but you catch yourself. His hand slightly lingers on the side of your neck, like he wants to bring your face closer, but he eventually pulls away. 

He searches your face, and you’re not sure what he���s looking for―if anything. Rather, perhaps he’s not searching. Perhaps he’s committing your features to his memory, as if the way you look right now is something he wants to remember forever. 

“You’ve worked hard, Y/N,” he says softly, voice slightly hoarse. “This is long overdue, but congratulations. You achieved your dream, and don’t let anyone ever discount that. Not even yourself.” 

You wonder how long you’ve waited to hear that. You’re not even sure you knew you needed to hear that. But when Donghyuck says it, it hits you just how long and hard you’ve worked all on your own without a single break. Throughout the years, you’ve really only ever heard, “I’m sorry that happened.” When was the last time someone congratulated you? When was the last time you congratulated yourself? 

You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his shoulder. Donghyuck cradles you against him, one hand wound tightly around your waist while the other is tangled in your hair. You can feel his chest rise up and down as he holds you. He smells like lavender soap and a bit earthy from being outside, and the warmth of his skin against your cheek makes you want to close your eyes and fall asleep in his arms. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“No, thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. 

You’re not sure why he’s thanking you instead, but what you are sure of is that you’re crossing the line, taking a step towards him and wondering if he’ll meet you halfway. 

.

.

.

“Tada!” you announce cheerfully, setting down the freshly baked blueberry pie onto the table. 

Donghyuck claps excitedly. “Holy shit, it looks amazing.” 

“I’m still trying to figure out the right portions for the filling, so let me know if you think there’s too much or little,” you tell him as you hand him a slice. 

Without even answering you, he stabs his fork into the pie and almost eats the entire slice in one bite, seemingly unbothered by the steam still rising from it. 

“Be careful. You’re going to burn your tastebuds off. I’m not letting you eat it for shits and giggles, you know. This is for research purposes.” You cross your arms. 

“It’s perfect, Y/N. I’m serious,” Donghyuck says after swallowing. “The filling isn’t too sweet, and the crust is airy and light.” 

“Well, alright, Gordon Ramsay. I think we’re going to be adding a new menu item then,” you smile. “Think you can get Mrs. Kim to buy a dozen of these?”

“I don’t think she’ll need much convincing with how good these taste.” 

“You’re so easy,” you tease. “All I need to do is feed you. Anyways, I’m going to clean up here, but you should head home. It’s getting late, and you wake up way earlier than me.” 

“I’ll help,” he insists. 

“Go,” you order, pointing at the door. “I can handle it.” 

He looks conflicted but eventually relents when you threaten to physically kick him out. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Why do you keep thanking me?” you laugh. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.”

“What? A blueberry pie?”

Donghyuck pauses, a slight wonder in his expression, as if he’s realizing his answer for the first time as well.

“Peace.” 

And you think maybe this is a step forward for him too. 

RECIPE 3. CREAM PUFF

It’s quite surreal how easily and naturally you and Donghyuck fall into a routine together. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, two weeks becomes two months. You’ve learned the little things about him, like how he always swipes some icing before you can fill up the piping bag or that he’s not a coffee drinker at all (more of a hot cocoa person) or that he purses his lips when a dessert he’s testing tastes off (no matter how hard he tries to hide it) or that he involuntarily sticks his arm out in front of you when he wants to stop you from doing something you shouldn’t. 

You also notice that he sometimes comes into work with injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as the first time you met him, but it’s hard to ignore a bruised cheek or bloodied knuckles. He always has a reason for them, whether it’s tripping down the stairs or accidentally falling down and scraping his hands on the concrete. You can tell by the way he laughs it off that he doesn’t plan on telling you the truth, so you laugh with him. The two of you, having taken only a step towards one another, find yourselves completely immobile now. 

He always does this: envelops you like a cloud but disappears the moment you reach out for him. 

You’re honestly not sure why he’s still here. Your injury has long healed, and he clearly doesn’t need the abysmal pay you’re giving him. He feels like he’ll slip away at any moment, fleeting like a warm spring breeze, and you suppose time flies by when you know it’s limited. Despite knowing that, you can’t help but desperately want him to stay. 

“I think it’s cute how hard he’s working,” Yeri randomly says one day as she eyes Donghyuck prepare orders in the front. He’s in the middle of a lunchtime rush, so he doesn’t even notice the two of you watching him like weirdos.

“Well, that’s what I’m paying him to do,” you reply, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, I think the money is the least of his worries here,” she hums, taking a sip of her coffee. 

She has a point, but you’re pretty sure she’s implying something else as well. Just as you go to ask her what exactly she means, you hear a loud clatter. Flinching, you turn your attention back to Donghyuck and realize that he’s dropped a tray on the floor. However, the tray is the last thing on your mind when you see the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of horror, anger, and almost sadness―like he’s finally come face-to-face with whatever he’s been running from. It makes your blood run cold. 

Donghyuck is looking at a boy around his age; the boy has dark hair, a mole under his eye, and a grim expression. More importantly, he’s covered in injuries too. 

“Who is that?” Yeri whispers. “Why does Donghyuck look like he’s seen a ghost?” 

Maybe because he has, you want to tell her. 

Donghyuck grabs the boy's arm, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and mumbles something to him. When he turns around and meets your eyes, he looks pained and fearful as if you witnessed something you shouldn’t have.

“Is it okay if I take my break early today?” he asks calmly, though the tremor in his voice gives him away. 

You nod hesitantly, unable to force yourself to speak. You watch him as he drags the boy out; when he passes you, you can tell how tightly his body is wound right now. His jaw is clenched, a muscle spasming as he tries to control himself, and every step he takes seems labored. He’s running on pure adrenaline right now, like he’s physically steeling himself. 

However, you don’t think he’s ever appeared so incredibly alone before. As you watch his back disappear further and further from your view, you’re unsure if he’ll ever return, and you never imagined how terrifying that would be. 

.

.

.

The cream puffs aren’t rising.

You’re crouched in front of the oven, watching the dough remain flat and lifeless. You should’ve known better than to attempt to make cream puffs on such a shitty day, especially when pastries like these are so sensitive to the environment and atmosphere. Even though you know you should probably just scrap them and try again, you wait for just a little longer, hoping that maybe if you wish hard enough that they’ll magically start to rise. 

But then again you suppose that no matter how hard you try, no matter how careful you are, no matter how perfect the batter is, no matter how much time you spend time piping them, no matter how much you want them to rise, they won’t. 

You decide that Donghyuck isn’t like a tiramisu at all; he’s sensitive and delicate and elusive and frustrating like a cream puff. 

“Y/N, they’re burning.” 

Losing your balance and nearly falling over, you gasp loudly. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear Donghyuck walk into the kitchen, nor did you smell the undeniable scent of something being burnt to a crisp. 

“Oh, fu―!” you curse, hurriedly opening the oven and casually suffocating both you and Donghyuck with a hot plume of air. Sputtering, you look around and grab a random rag from the sink before reaching for the cream puffs. 

“Wait, stop!” Donghyuck stops you with an outstretched arm, his hand pressed to your side. “Let me do it.” 

He gently takes the rag from your hand and removes the tray of charred cream puffs from the oven, dumping them into the trash before putting the tray in the sink and running some water on it―just how you like it. 

Letting out a relieved sigh, he turns back to you and asks, “Are you okay? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that. You didn’t get burned anywhere, did you?” 

When you don’t answer immediately, Donghyuck rushes forward and grabs your hands, carefully examining your fingers and arms. “Wait, are you hurt? Where? Tell me where you got burned. We have to cool it down with some lukewarm water. And don’t just say you’re fine. Burns are not a joke, Y/N―why are you looking at me like that?” 

His hands are calloused and rough, and you can still see scabs from where he tore his knuckles, yet he touches you like you’re the delicate one. He’s covered in fresh and old wounds, yet he looks so panicked at the thought of you having a scratch. 

“Shut up,” you whisper furiously, ripping your hands away from him. “From now on, don’t ask me another question. It’s my turn to ask you questions.” 

He blinks, a bit stunned by your reaction, but it’s clear he knows what you’re about to say. He goes to reach for you again but decides against it. “Okay.” 

“Who was that guy?” you demand. “Why are you always covered in injuries? Why did you lie to me? Who are you?” 

“He’s an old friend,” Donghyuck starts quietly. 

“Do you treat all your friends like that?” 

“When I don’t want to see them.” 

You wait for him to continue.

“Before I met you, he and I and a few of our other friends worked…odd jobs for cash,” he explains, and he looks like he’s choking on every word. “The jobs usually entailed us hurting people and also getting hurt. I did a lot of shit I wasn’t proud of. At the time, I didn’t really care. It was just nice to feel something, whether it was the adrenaline rush from doing the punching or the pain from being punched. I got a bunch of money, bought a bunch of expensive stuff, but none of it mattered. Eventually, I just felt nothing again. I didn’t even have the energy to loathe myself anymore. So, I took one last job, got the shit kicked out of me, and then I left. That’s when you found me―”

He inhales, and his eyes flicker towards you. He gazes at you so longingly, as if you were impossibly out of his reach, that you can’t help but involuntarily take a step towards him. 

But he steps back. 

“I thought that working here would make me feel like a human being again, but I didn’t realize how much I would―” He pauses again. “I thought working here would be a nice reset for me, but I naively thought that I could completely leave my past behind. My friends eventually found me, and I guess I care about those reckless assholes more than I thought because they managed to convince me to take on a few more jobs with them. That’s why I’ve been coming to work with injuries. But I’m done. I cut them off for good when they walked into this bakery. I don’t want…I don’t want our past to tarnish this place. I want to keep this place a beautiful, warm, and pure safe haven that you worked so hard for it to be. That’s why I lied to you, Y/N. I’m a coward to the bone, and I was envious of you. I was ashamed to admit it to you. You, who had the courage to chase after your dream. You, who had the kindness to help a good-for-nothing asshole like me. I only want you to have happy memories from now on, and I am not one of them.” 

“Are you going to leave?” you ask softly. 

“I probably should,” he answers shakily. 

“What’s stopping you?” 

“Just…one reason.” 

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like the reason is me.” 

Donghyuck laughs bitterly, and his eyes drag across your face like every movement hurts him.

“You know it’s you. It’s always been you.” 

When you reach for his hand, he turns away like just the warmth from your body heat burns him. So instead, you take a step back. 

“I won’t ask you to stay, Donghyuck, I won’t chase you. I’m going to wait right here, and it’s up to you if you're going to meet me halfway.” 

RECIPE 4. RED VELVET CAKE

When your alarm clock goes off the next morning, you seriously consider just not showing up to work. It’s not like you can be fired for being a no-show when you’re your own boss, after all. 

And it’s not like you have any employees who will be expecting you. 

You’ll just apologize to Mrs. Kim and your other regulars later. You’re allowed to have a day where you just rot in bed and feel sorry for yourself. 

However, no matter how much you tell yourself that, you find yourself crawling out of bed and getting ready anyway. You can’t seem to brutally crush that small glimmer of hope that Donghyuck might still be there, no matter how hard you try. When you see yourself in the mirror, you recoil in horror. Your eyes are almost swollen shut from the amount of crying you did last night, and your face is sallow and lifeless. 

So much for putting on a brave face, you think wryly to yourself. You tried so hard to look tough, when in reality, you bawled your eyes out and even considered praying to God for Donghyuck to stay. It’s a humiliating and humbling reality check. 

“Stand up right now,” you sharply tell yourself in the mirror. “He’s just some guy. Get it together.” 

You do your best to clean up your appearance and make the trek over to the bakery. It takes another internal pep talk before you can make your way to the door. After you finally walk up, you see that the lights inside are off. Your stomach sinks, and your eyes start to burn. Even though you’re holding the handle, you can’t bring yourself to open the door. It’s an outcome that you expected, yet you wonder why it hurts so badly. 

“You liar,” you mumble to yourself, “You said you only wanted me to have happy memories.” 

Once you make your way inside, you numbly head towards the kitchen, trying to remember what exactly you have to do today. Oh right, now that he’s not here, you also have to make sure all the ingredients are prepped first. 

When you walk into the kitchen, you do a double-take. 

The whole place looks like it’s been completely ransacked: used pans and utensils piled up in the sink, two opened boxes of cake mix, containers of ingredients without lids on on the tables, random lumps of flour and egg shells strewn about― 

And right in front of the oven is Donghyuck, flour in his hair and frosting on his nose. He’s holding a cake stand with…you think it’s supposed to be a cake on it? The shape is mangled and haphazardly cut, but it has echoes of a heart. The frosting is a hot mess, as if a bird with diarrhea shat all over the cake. The batter is clearly underbaked and makes the cake look gooey in a bad way. 

“Um, I promise I’ll clean all of this up in a second, but I wanted to surprise you,” Donghyuck starts awkwardly. “It’s not perfect, but I tried making a red velvet cake for you.” 

You stare at him, still not sure how to react. 

“You once said that baking is like baring your heart to the customer and that love is the most important ingredient of all,” he laughs softly to himself. “I think love is the only ingredient I managed to get right, but I’m baring my heart to you now, Y/N. I’m sorry I hid everything and lied to you, but I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. All my life, I’ve chased a feeling, not knowing what it was. But now I do. I don’t think I knew how to feel until I met you. I never once thought I would ever have a purpose in my life, but you make me want to be a normal, proper member of society. Your dream is my dream. I want to wake up at 5AM and sell egg tarts with you for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” 

Donghyuck sets the cake down on a table in front of you, and you notice that his fingers are dyed red from the food coloring. It almost reminds you of when you first met him, except his injuries have been replaced with red food coloring, flour, and cream cheese frosting. 

“This cake is terrible,” you smile, “how did you butcher it that badly when you used cake mix?” 

You watch him blush all the way down to his neck, as he sheepishly looks away. “Don’t make fun of me. I really tried my best. I stayed up watching tutorials―” 

Leaning across the table, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him, brushing your thumbs across his cheekbones. He tastes like frosting, hot cocoa, and your prayers being answered. The way he kisses you back is bruising, dizzying and knocking any coherent thought out of your head, his hands finding your hips and anchoring you to him. He kisses you like you’re the sweetest and most wonderful thing he’s ever tasted.

When you finally pull away, it takes you a moment to regain feeling in your legs. Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, lips brushing against yours once again as the two of you try to catch your breath. 

“I think I’m going to have to fire you, though,” you whisper. “You know, with me being your boss and all. The power dynamic is too weird.” 

He hums, pausing for thought. “Then how about I become your business partner?” 

“What?”

Donghyuck reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet, pulling out a shiny and fancy-looking credit card. He hands it to you without much fanfare. 

“I have a lot of money, you know. So I’m going to invest in your business. Use it as you’d like,” he casually announces.

You stare at him, your jaw hanging wide open. He never tried to hide from you that he was rich, but he never told you that he was rich rich. 

“Well, damn! Why didn’t you show me this earlier? I would have forgiven you a lot sooner,” you tease, slapping him on the arm. “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I’m quite the gold-digger, you know.”

“When I told you to use it as you’d like, I meant me as well,” Donghyuck replies, shrugging.

“You’re insane.” You hope he can’t tell how much your face is burning up. 

“I guess I am,” he laughs, and you don’t think he’s ever looked so free. You want to tell him that you hope he only has happy memories from now on too. You want to tell him that you’ll rewrite all of his scars with sugary and fluffy desserts so that they won’t ever hurt again. 

And for the first time in your life, you feel it too.

Peace. 

EXTRA

“So, have you figured out what your favorite dessert is?” 

Donghyuck stirs slightly, groaning, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He slips his hand under your shirt (well, technically it’s his shirt) and rests it on your bare hip bone. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” 

“Because I’m curious.” 

“If I answer, will you let me rest?”

“Depends on how good your answer is.” 

“Blueberry pie. That’s my answer.” 

You smile against the crook of his neck. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life.” 

[mytheoristavenue]

Do you think you could do somewhere like where the straw hats + doflamingo are really tired after a hard day and reader offers their lap for them to lay on? And they end up falling asleep? Sorry if it's to much to ask, or if you've done something similar 😅 😭

I originally wasn't going to do this, because I don't really write for OP anymore, but sure! Also, Doflamingo will not be included, as I am not up to that point in the anime yet!

OP Strawhats lying on your lap!

Summary: After a long day, you offer to let them rest in your lap!

Warnings: Innuendo on some, mostly fluff, short

Monkey D. Luffy:

"Ugh, I'm so tired!" The captain groaned, wandering below deck after hours of standing very still at the help of the ship. Nami had condemned him to boredom after finding out how much money he blew on food the past week while in port and he had finally finished serving his punishment.

"You look it," You mused with a small smile. You rolled your eyes as he approached you, dramatically swaying. "Oh, c'mere then, before you fall over."

Luffy cheered, collapsing to the floor, head snuggly tucked in your lap, sighing happily. "You're the best..." He purred, already on the verge of drifting off.

Roronoa Zoro:

Zoro had been crabby all day, he was just tired and it was entirely his own fault. That meant it was everyone else's problem. He was currently ranting at Sanji for something silly when you whistled at him and called him over. "I'm not a damn dog! You can't just-" You patted your thigh invitingly. His shoulders slumped and he came over and planted his cheek against your thigh, not caring for who saw.

"You better stop staying up all night working out." You scolded lightly, raking your fingers through his short hair.

"Yeah, yeah..."

Nami:

"They're all just so dumb!" She groaned, pacing the floors. "You have no idea how hard it is being a secretary to these men." You simply nodded and listened, knowing better than to interject during a rant. "Like seriously, you don't wanna know how much Luffy spent on food while we were ported. And I don't mean for all of us, just for himself!"

Eventually, her pacing turned to standing, then sitting beside you, and finally, she found herself lying between your legs, face snuggled into your inner thigh, anger ebbing in exchange for drowsiness.

"Feel better?" You asked softly, petting her tangerine hair gently.

"I guess..."

Usopp:

You entered his workshop, shoulders slumping at the sight. He was slumped over the workbench again, cheek squished to the wooden surface. You rolled your eyes and approached him, nudging him lightly. "Usopp," You whispered so as not to startle him, though ultimately, your caution was for not.

He jumped, scrambling up into a straight sitting position. "(Y-Y/N)! Y-You can't just scare me like that!" You simply snickered and pulled him up and toward the small bed in the corner. "No, I gotta finish this project-"

"I'll let you lay in my lap." You offered with a knowing smile.

"O-Okay!" He smiled sheepishly, following you, collapsing in your lap without hesitation. The moment he stopped shifting, he began to snore again.

Vinsmoke Sanji:

You had watched him bustle around the kitchen all day, refusing any help offered to him. In the back of your mind, you knew, when Sanji crashed, he'd crash hard. As predicted, after the dinner dishes were finished, he made a beeline for you, hugging you tightly. "I'm so tired..." He mumbled into your ear, voice deep and groggy. "What would be the best way to charm you without exhausting any effort?"

"Consider me charmed." You scoffed playfully, pulling him over to the couch in the lounge before patting your thigh. The way he stared at you, you would have thought you'd just asked him to claim you right then and there. His face was red, eyes glued to your thighs. "Behave yourself." You wanted as he dropped to the floor and nuzzled between your plush thighs.

"Yes ma'am!"

Tony Tony Chopper:

It was typical of Chopper to get sleepy earlier than the rest of the crew, frequently curling up with Robin while the adults settled down to enjoy an evening activity together. This night was different only in one way.

"Ha, royal flush!" You laughed, laying your cards on the table and claiming the cash in the middle of it. You nearly yelped when you felt soft fur brush your calf. Looking down, you found the reindeer climbing up on the bench beside you and curling up in your lap.

"Awe..." You cooed on a whisper, shushing the rowdy rest. "Look at him..."

"It seems I've been replaced," Robin mused with a gentle smile. "How tragic."

Nico Robin:

It was known that on especially hard days, she would welcome you into her lap, uttering soothing words or reading silently while threading her long nails through your hair. But tonight was different. You could tell she was upset, despite her cool nature. When you'd finally convinced her to open up, you found that she was having unpleasent dreams involving her past.

"Can't get anything past you, can I?" She laughed sadly, before her brows shot up in surprise as you patted your lap.

"I know I'm probably not as good at this as you are..." You muttered sheepishly. "But..."

To your delight, she laid down, face up in your lap, and allowed you to play with her hair while she read quietly to herself. "You couldn't be more wrong, this is perfect." She sighed blissfully.

Cyborg Franky:

Franky had been in an awfully sour mood lately, totally uncharacteristic of him. After witnessing him get into a small argument with Usopp over a new ship upgrade thew were collaborating on, you knew you had to have a word with him. "Franky, what's your deal lately?" You huffed, hands on your hips.

"No deal," He scoffed, turning away. "What's it to ya?"

"You're acting like Zoro when he misses a nap." Your eyes narrowed sternly. He sighed.

"I ain't been sleepin' well, okay?" He finally admitted sheepishly. You softened, smiling slightly.

"Why didn't you just say so?" You climbed up on a large crate of ale, sitting at the perfect height, patting your lap. "Come take a nap, you'll feel better."

"N-Nah, I'll be good," He shook his head, cheeks a bit pink. After a bit more convincing, he finally sat on the floor, back against the crate, and rested his head in your lap as you brushed the cyan locks from his eyes and removed his shades. "You were right, this is nice..."

Brook:

The ship was eerily quiet today and for the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. Suddenly, it hit you. You hadn't seen or heard Brook all day long. After asking around, you found him in the lounge, staring at the fish. "Brook, you okay?" You asked softly, tilting your head into his view.

"Oh, yes, my dear. Just in thought." He sighed, empty sockets seemingly tracking the tropical fish as they wandered the glass enclosure. "The only I get, the younger my old friends seem." He admitted quietly and your eyes softened.

You weren't entirely sure how long had passed as you sat there with him, watching the fish interact with one another, or when you'd begun to lean into one another. "Brook?" You asked softly, eyes never looking away from the tank. "I can't do much to help but...would you like to lay in my lap?"

"I'd like that very much, my dear." He replied, patiently waiting for you to get into a comfortable position before laying out his lanky form on the sofa between your thighs. "This helps so much more than you know." The pair of you stayed that way for a while until you began to feel skeletal phalanges lightly digging into the meat of your legs. "You know, since you're in such a giving mood..."

"You're done." You deadpanned, pushing him away.

Jinbe:

You had never had much experience with Jinbe, having only known him for a short while, be he seemed to always know when the emotional atmosphere around him had changed. Thanks to this empathy, he noticed immediately when you'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed. "(Y/N)? What's the matter?" He asked, cocking a brow as you stepped below deck.

"Just in a mood..." You grumbled, coldly brushing him off. Ever patient, he simply gave you a warm smile and let you be. As the day wore on, you both found yourself winding down in the lounge. You grumpy day catching up with you, you dozed off, cheek pressed to his shoulder. Smiling fondly, Jinbe repositioned you, delicately resting your head in his lap, large webbed hand very carefully brushing the fringe from your eyes.

[little-diable]

Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)

I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)

Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out. 

It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around. 

“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.

“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.

“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project. 

“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him. 

On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side. 

His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet. 

Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado. 

“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds. 

“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process. 

“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.

The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway. 

“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.

“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”

Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot. 

If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks. 

“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again. 

“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail. 

“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.” She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.

“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from. 

“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man. 

“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.

Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her? 

“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler. 

“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.

“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day. 

“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.

Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret. 

Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air. 

“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now. 

“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them. 

“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest. 

“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that. 

Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving. 

“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly. 

“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to. 

Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again. 

“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more. 

“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.” 

He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars. 

(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate. 

“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.

And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again. 

Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.

“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible. 

“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”

[binmeister]

SAJA BOYS & HUNTR/X x Producer! Reader

KPDH AU, where the ending of the movie didn’t really happen so it’s just idol life / industry life (need to cope)

New hyperfixation unlocks the fic writing sleeper agent within me (it’s been years) - some thoughts that won’t leave me alone as I listen to old collab OSTs and just thought what if KPDH ? Just kinda spit balling what won’t leave my mind palace alone. Will expand eventually just getting it out now so I can be free for a teensy bit :)

CW: fem reader (imsorry), not proofread and just messy in general, kinda plotless maybe, OOC cause ehe

Setting: You, reader are a producer and singer, faceless in the industry but with a stage name associated with plenty of popular OSTs, credited in many title tracks and beloved B-sides of groups that went viral and so forth. You’ve even worked on projects with Huntr/x! Providing backing vocals and harmony guides in some of the girls’ B-sides and even a title track too.

Safe to say you were professionally acquainted with the girls, so when it finally came time for Rumi to be recommended as an OST singer? Of course you were the one to pitch the idea, thinking this would be a great step in her career as a vocalist and extend Huntr/x’s reputation across a different market - who doesn’t love vocally talented idols singing Kdrama OSTs after all? Your co-producer Lance (prod tag) on the track suggested that the song needed masculine vocals, opting to check his connections before coming back to you with a great idea: a member from the explosively popular Saja boys.

Nothing could go wrong! ...right?

The initial briefing was fine, Bobby was enthusiastic on his part as always and was excited about the project. He adored his girls and getting any of them into OSTs could lead to more opportunities down the line - how could he say no? Then the leader of the Saja boys himself had agreed blindly, seemingly still trying to build up connections within the industry so when given the chance to build a decent relationship with well known producers - it’d be career suicide to say no.

Thus lead you to the current situation before you, all members of both groups seated around a spacious meeting room table with you and your co-producer at the head of the table - him giving a rundown of the potential songs and what you two as a duo were hoping to achieve from this collaboration as you got to look at all the members up close for once.

The girls were gorgeous as always, makeup on point and hair perfected in their respective iconic hairstyles but you couldn’t help but notice the palpable...tension.. in the room. The very one-sided tension at least from what you could observe. The girls kept sneaking glances at the Saja boys across from them, glaring everytime their eyes made contact before looking back towards yourself and your co-producer when he next spoke - trying to be respectful whilst the Saja boys seemed rather aloof.

The muscular one seemed to pay attention, or at least tried, but every now and then he’d flick his eyes to the window ahead of him as he seemed to daydream a little. The baby-faced guy was definitely not paying attention, but he was respectful enough to keep to himself and seemed to busy himself with twiddling with his fingers on the table - you feel like if given the chance he would’ve whipped out a phone to play subway surfers or something to help retain his focus. Seated next to those two was a pink haired guy, sharp features and hair with a suspicious amount of gel to maintain a heart shape - he was also definitely not paying attention to what was being said as he kept a dreamy expression on his face as he kept staring at the girls across from him, winking at them and making mocking kissy faces. To be frank you couldn’t tell if it was flirting or if he just wanted to get under their skin.

Next to that guy was a lavender mop, sorry, guy with shaggy hair. He had angled himself to be facing the two of you at the head of the table, though you couldn’t see his eyes it seemed he was at least being respectful enough to pay attention fully even if he didn’t really comprehend what was going on. Lastly was the leader, you had overheard your co-producer speaking with him on the phone for the initial pitch and he was relatively nice. You locked eyes for a brief moment with him and he quirked a smile, expression friendly as he listened intently to what was being said as well.

“Uh.. anyway yeah, I think that’s all I have to say. You’ll mostly be in the care of [Name] here though.” Your co-producer gestured to you as you gave a nod of your head in acknowledgement, he stood up and gathered the papers in front of him as he stole a glance at his phone for the time. “Sorry to be a pain but I’ve got to step out, got another client meeting - I’ll leave you in her care though but I do look forward to working with you all!” With a sharp bow he stepped away from the meeting table and out of the meeting room, the groups all collectively standing to bow at him as he left and then it was just you and two vary pretty idol groups. 

“As Lance had stated, you’ll all mostly be working with during the recording stage - if possible I’d like to schedule in a time for me to get acquainted with your vocals. We can arrange that according to your existing schedules if you could get your managers to arrange that for you and get the details sent to me, we can get the ball rolling.” You stated simply, voice calm as you smiled politely at all of them. The girls smiled eagerly at you, happy to work with you once again and the Saja boys seemed enthusiastic too. You hoped at least.

“Do you have any questions? If not now you’re welcome to contact me with them before our first session or during said session as well, just let me know.” No takers it seemed. Everyone shook their head no and bowed to you as you let them go for the day. Luckily both groups were prompt in arranging their sessions, Bobby enthusiastically giving you an exact date and Jinu had gotten your contact details from Lance and sent over the available block outs in the boys’ schedule.

Great start.

The first session was.. odd to say the least. You weren’t familiar with the Saja boys’ vocals so it was scheduled for yourself and them to have a private session where you could gage their vocal range and tones first, feel out who would best work with what track for what OST and though it was smooth sailing they were definitely an interesting bunch to be around. Abs and Baby were currently slouched on the couch behind you in the recording studio, the latter playing some kind of mobile game with the audio a little too high for your liking and Abs was struggling to get into a comfortable position that wouldn’t make his shirt pop open.

Mystery, Romance and Jinu were all late. Why? You don’t know, you weren’t paid enough to care. You had groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to list off what you had to do and then you heard Abs clear his throat. 

“Should I go first..? Cause the others aren’t here yet.” He offered up, smiling with the corner of his mouth as he tried to be nice since you seemed a little thrown off with the fact 3/5 Saja boys were missing. You nodded and ushered him into the other room, instructing him to put the headphones on so he could hear himself and then started recording snippets of his voice - attempting to gage his general range and strengths. His tone was nice, summery boy-ish charm to it as he ran through the exercises you asked of him. There was even a possibility he could rap actually.. there was potential. He was easy to work with, followed your directions to a T with no complaint and was done in record time - even did you the favour of throwing Baby into the recording room next so you could grab samples of his voice.

You knew vaguely one of the boys had a deep voice but honestly, you didn’t know who did so you had to admit it gave you some whiplash when the lowest voice that you had heard from Soda Pop was this walking ipad kid. He had a bit of a smug look on his face as he looked at you through the glass, liking the way your eyes had widened a little in surprise as he ran through the same routine Abs had done before him. Yeah he was playing on his phone, but it helped his attention span more than sitting there boredly.

“Should I do a rap sample?” Baby quipped, voice slightly grumbly as he spoke into the studio mic in front of him. His posture was relaxed, his right hand held the right earphone cup to his ear, not bothered enough to actually put the set on his head cause he’d rather die than put something on after Abs did. You thought it over, a stylus in hand as you scribbled notes on your tablet to the side and nodded. “Can you freestyle?” 

He simply nodded, waited for your q to let him know you’re recording again - you provided a simple sample for him to freestyle on top of and he off he went. It was just under a minute of freestyle but given he had no prompt and had to go off on nothing, you were rather impressed. His tone was low but when he had a relatively decent range considering he started from a lower register than Abs had. You gave him a thumbs up, with him hooking the headphones on the mic and stepping back out and flopping back onto the studio couch with Abs. The timing was quite impeccable actually, as soon as he sat down the studios’ door had cracked open and in peaked an apologetic looking Jinu with the last two members lagging behind him.

“Ah.. I’m really sorry for being late we uh, had some problems on the way here.” Jinu said, awkward smile on his face as he lied through his teeth. The problem? A certain trio of girls that decided they wanted to spar with the boys on the way here, which left the three a little breathless but thanks to some beneficial demon tricks they looked like nothing happened. You waved off his apology, semi-used to idols being either perfectly on time to a milisecond or extremely late to appointments. At least they turned up.

“It’s fine just be better next time, one of you please step in so we can get this done.” You gestured to the trio, letting them decide amongst themself who would go next as you scribbled some more notes on your tablet in regards to the first two Saja boys that finished their set. Mystery had been the next one up, feeling like it’d be better to be done and over with early as he awkwardly shuffled into the booth and very... awkwardly tried to put the headphones on his head but grumbled when it felt like the headphones  would cause problems with his hair. You pressed a button in front of you and calmly told him “You can just hold them to your ear, don’t worry bout putting them on.” 

It was simple, you instructed the quieter boy on what to do and he followed along - albeit a little clumsy but it seemed like he had a general understanding of his head voice but struggled with his chest, so you jotted that note down diligently before instructing him on what else he needed to do. His tone was smooth, a little on the high side but not too high that it’d grate the ears. His recording was relatively easy but then you felt the presence of someone hovering over you and you had to hold back the instinct of punching Romance who’d decided it’d be a great idea, to get in the personal space of someone he was unfamiliar with.

“Wow your handwriting is nice.” He complimented and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to not ask him what the fuck was he talking about? You knew for a fact your handwriting on a tablet was chicken scratch compared to your handwriting on paper, but you’d rather keep things stored on a digital device than lose a piece of paper. “Thank you.” You replied stiffly, shifting your chair away from Romance slightly as he busied himself with looking at all the expensive sound equipment sprawled out in front of you, his fingers twitching at the idea of just full sending it and flicking switches on and off and turning dials - the works !

“Please, sit down.” Jinu’s stern voice was all it took for Romance to shrug and walk over to the couch the rest of the members were on, where as the leader had been  standing off to the side. He was leant against the wall, arms crossed as he kept an eye on the boys as if silently daring them to act out while he was there. Mystery had stepped out of the recording booth, bowing slightly at you as he shuffled over to the familiarity of the other boys - Abs shifting to the side a little to allow for him to sit down and seemingly being mindful to not be within biting range.

“Alright two left, quick quick.” You chirped, clapping your hands lightly as you turned in your chair to look at Jinu and Romance - silently urging one of them to step into the booth and Romance was the one to stand up from where he just plopped down and sauntered into the recording booth. He was quick to place the headphones on his head and hummed happily into the mic, which you rolled your eyes at since you could hear it perfectly through the headphones on your end. Melodic, playful.

He followed instructions relatively well but definitely seemed more playful than the trio before him, often doing over the top runs when you asked for a simple scale and then even adlibbed some rather sultry sounds before shutting himself up when he made eye contact with a very unamused Jinu. Though Jinu had dropped the glare when you had turned to see what made Romance freeze and tried to hold back a laugh at the way the ravenette attempted to look casual, clearing his throat into a fist and leaning against the wall nonchalantly. 

Finally it was time for Jinu to sing, Romance waiting for the leader to step into the room and handing him the headphones directly before stepping out and going back to the boys on the couch - he did have to hover you again briefly to see what you were writing about him but you waved a hand at him to shoo him away and he pouted slightly on the way by. With the same instructions and requests you had for the other boys, you gave them to Jinu and he followed along diligently. His range was pretty decent, good mid-register and a nice high-register that he seemed to be more comfortable in.

“That’s it, thank you for your co-operation.” You said as you gestured for him to come back into the main room, he did so after putting the headphones down and you tried not to laugh at his butter fingers. Cool looking guy but he had dropped the headphones as he tried to hook them onto the mic, fumbling to grab the cable so he wouldnt drop it to the floor and just.. straight whiffed. He bowed as he managed to hook the headphones up and as he got back into the room with you and the other Saja boys he bowed again with an embarrassed apology.

“Good session, you all have pretty decent ranges and I think I know what songs to assign you to.” Was said as you finished writing up notes on your tablet, clicking the device locked as you turned to look at them properly. Abs smiled at you and you could’ve sworn a gust of wind had blown threw because why did his actual abs flash you for a second, the tips of your ears felt a little warm as you quickly flicked your eyes to the other members. Baby was back on his phone, but he seemed to have turned the volume of his game down when Jinu had entered earlier without you even realising as you were focussed on getting the last samples for the day.

Mystery was seated politely, a little too straight but had his hands in his lap as he just seemingly dissociated ... or was he looking at you? You couldn’t really tell honestly with all that hair in his face - can he even see through that? Romance was leaned back against the couch, twirling a few strands of his hair boredly as he awaited instructions it seemed and Jinu was standing in front of you as he spoke. “Thank you. We look forward to working with you.” 

With a nod of his head the remaining boys stood up and they all bowed in sync. Which was... a little unnerving but you were quick to stand up and return the bow. The session ended with some unimportant chatter, you and Jinu organising the next recording session and trying to sort out the best method of sending them the song samples that wouldn’t lead to one of them leaking it. You couldn’t trust idols to not leak songs, given the history of so many idols being cheeky enough to do it during live shows or fan signings. A final goodbye and the boys were gone, leaving you to your studio and you had to admit - they were kinda cute? A boy-ish charm and maybe even loser core.. boy failure if you will. Alright they were pretty cute.

[vampylily]

okay the sick fic im drafting rn isn't the current era, sweetly assured helping each other thru thick and thin peterick. it's like. folie era where everythings shit and they're going through the terrible Motions of being in your twenties made worse by being sick. so. yeah. (im basing this on when i was sick and i'm currently going through the Terible Motions of Being In Your Twenties and getting sick and feeling alone and dying and being saved by kind friends so oops.)

[literalgrill]

Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon

You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.

The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.

I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:

Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨

We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.

However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.

A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.

Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.

Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad

i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…

all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade

VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.

I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.

It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.

Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.

I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.

It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.

So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo

I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol

To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo

One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol

Hunter R. Thompson:

I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it

The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.

I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.

Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]

Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.

Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.

The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:

Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:

Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.

Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.

Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.

Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.

Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?

Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.

Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?

Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.

Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:

It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation

aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.

Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...

[vinelark]

a treatise on pangs

i’m currently putting together a rec list for someone who requested pangy tim fics, and i kept adding side notes to explain/break down the pangs and eventually decided to just put all that to a separate post. so! for anyone who might at all be interested, this is my extremely informal, not-at-all academic essay about what pangs are to me, what i tend to seek out as a reader, and what works for me when i’m trying to craft them in my own writing.

“pang” is a phrase that has become a regular part of my vocab for the last…ten years, now, wow. it’s not always easy for me to explain, but it has helped me articulate this specific thing i enjoy and actively seek out in media: i like characters who are pangy. i like plots and tropes that deliver pangs. i want to feel the physical chest-aching, stomach-dropping sensation that comes from a specific kind of misunderstanding + hurt/comfort setup, and if something doesn’t deliver that for me, that’s fine! i will go fill in the blanks in my own head as i fall asleep for days on end. no big. i think about this an average amount probably.

like haha it’s just a hobby for me i swear—

anyway. obviously this is the ideal bait to lure me into a box trap. so what exactly am i talking about? how do they function in a story? and what actually makes a pang a pang?

anatomy of a pang

i said earlier it’s a kind of misunderstanding + hurt/comfort setup; i think that’s a good way to sum it up. angst is in there, some form of isolation (whether literal or something the character feels internally) is in there, a crucial reveal is in there, and, most importantly, the hurt part of hurt/comfort is emotional and specific to the pangy character.

when i say specific, i mean that it doesn’t just happen to a specific character, but that it is a kind of hurt that digs into that character’s history/situation/personality in a specific way. “pangy” simply indicates the presence of something—it’s not a qualitative measure on how good or angsty a story or trope is. there’s plenty of (excellent) angst and hurt/comfort out there that isn’t necessarily pangy; a MCD story about grief could be deliciously angsty but not very pangy, and a sickfic could deliver great hurt/comfort without a pang in sight. that said, a sickfic could also be a fantastic premise for pangs—it just depends on the approach.

to contrast, two different sickfic scenarios:

we’re in a [throws dart at a board] sci fi story about a crew on a spaceship. one crewmember (for consistency with the next section we’ll call them crewmember B) is new to the ship and doesn’t know everyone very well yet. they’re also a workaholic, trying to prove themself, and eventually they get sick and try to push through. the other crewmembers notice and intervene, forcing crewmember B to take a break and allow the crew help them. sickness ensues, comfort ensues, bonding ensues. this is a sickfic with full throttle hurt/comfort, but very little pangs.

previous scenario, pang edition:

character B is new to the ship, and the other crew members deliberately keep their distance—maybe they think crewmember B is off-putting, or stuck up, or connected to the organization that appointed them to the ship and therefore reporting back on the crew’s activities/merit. meanwhile, crewmember B—who is painfully aware that they’re an outsider and that they come off as stuck up when focusing, but hasn’t been successful at fixing it—is running themself ragged. they know that if the project they specifically were sent to implement fails, the whole crew will likely be dismissed. when they fall sick and try to keep working anyway, the rest of the crew finds out why and it shifts their understanding of crewmember B and crewmember B’s motives/actions. the others help crewmember B rest and also pitch in to do their work, and when crewmember B recovers they have tentative new friendships on board.

both are sickfic and hurt/comfort; scenario 2 just goes the direction of pangs, because the angst and the shift in behavior from other characters is rooted in a misunderstanding (and subsequent reveal) related to character B’s hurt.

life cycle of a pang

there are plenty of ways to achieve a pang—and plenty i’m still discovering! one of my little joys in life!—but in general when i see them or try to conceive of them, they follow a similar broad pattern:

character A fundamentally misunderstands circumstances/history of character B ➡️

A views B’s actions through the lens of that misunderstanding ➡️

A does or says something hurtful (intentional or not) fueled by their perception of B’s actions (almost always the “something hurtful” ends up hitting one of B’s deepest insecurities) ➡️

B (not knowing about the misunderstanding) internalizes this and is hurt by it. ideally the hurt and misunderstanding lasts long enough for us to really unpack it before a resolution; how long this is depends on the kind of story. ➡️

pang aftermath/resolution necessarily involves A later learning—ideally in some horrible way for both of them—the real circumstances/context for B, and we get to see them reorient their understanding of B’s character. and then, hopefully, fixing the relationship.

off-the-cuff example:

a story set in the early days of young justice, where the team feel judged/called out by robin’s constant critique/feedback/controlling tendencies. without much context for robin (or tim) they interpret this as robin thinking he’s better than them and not trusting them. they react accordingly, and at least once they snap at robin or, perhaps, complain about him where robin overhears. like: “god, robin is so annoying. can’t he leave us alone for one day?” “i still can’t believe he handed out actual printed reports on all of our weaknesses. no wonder none of us want to be his friend.”

meanwhile, yes, tim IS annoying (❤️) but it’s how he shows he cares—it’s out of genuine concern/commitment to his team, and he deeply wants to be their friend. he hears (or overhears) these reactions from his team, and internalizes it as: they don’t like me. i continue to be unlikable. i will stop trying to be their friend but i will continue to try to keep them alive in the field. he changes his behavior to being totally professional with them and not hanging out after training/missions, which they start to notice. eventually a mission goes sideways, they’re bailed out by the justice league, and then…nothing happens? they’re allowed to carry on, just with a few extra safety lectures? and then cassie and anita somehow find out that robin—despite his broken arm from the mission—faced down batman and the league by himself to defend everyone on the team. that it was his plan, so he takes the blame. and he also reported: they’re professional. they’re good. they don’t even like me, and they made sure i got out. and, well, hearing it put that way…they all start viewing robin in a bit of a different light, which leads to them becoming actual friends.

character B doesn’t need to be a perfect, innocent victim of circumstance to be pangy—in fact, rooting their insecurities to their flaws or quirks can make it way more compelling. pangs are great when they draw from and also feed back into other things characters struggle with, both with themselves and with other people. character B can lash out or change behavior due to their hurt in a way that hurts others and furthers the misunderstanding, and the pangs will still land.

also, character A and character B can both be pangy in the same story! there can be concurrent pang threads woven together. character B can misunderstand character A right back; their insecurities and communication styles can contrast delightfully (for me, at least) to achieve multidirectional pangs.

bonus points/subgenres/embellishments:

beyond the basic structure, here are some of my fav flavors of pang:

they cared the whole time: character B desperately likes/looks up to A (especially if it’s from the beginning), and A is unaware of this. for romantic relationships, this would lend itself to “B fell first, A fell harder” stories, and one-sided enemies-to-lovers plots. similar setups work for platonic relationships to achieve equally potent pangs.

example: almost any story in which early robin!tim is struggling to find his place, and bruce holds him at a distance—and tim is painfully aware of that distance, and internalizes it as him failing to measure up in some way.

loneliness my beloved: character B is very isolated with no support system (or does not think there is a support system available to them); likely A/others assume B does have a support system that isn’t there.

example: building on the previous example, at some point in those early robin days tim is getting bullied at school—pretty badly—and doing everything he can to avoid it escalating to his parents, because they’re on a trip. again. and in trying to handle it himself, tim finds out something about one of the bullies that connects their family to a shady business deal that, whoops, involves tim’s parents’ company too. bruce catches tim looking into this at the batcomputer, and to bruce it looks like tim is digging up dirt on his peers. when tim tries to explain the shady deal, bruce hears that tim is using his access to bat resources to, like, work for his parents’ benefit. he reprimands tim—bat resources are Not for personal matters—because to bruce, this reinforces his fears that he’s making a mistake taking on another robin, that things will only get messy and muddled and hurt more people. and obviously to tim, this reinforces his fear that he’s overstepping and fucking things up. so tim immediately drops it and goes off to try to deal with the whole thing on his own, and ends up getting even more hurt—at which point bruce does notice, and eventually gets the full story and intervenes on tim’s behalf, leading to real tentative trust between them.

gotta stay worthy: character B does think they are wanted, but only for a specific utility (a skill, a connection, sex, etc) and that it has strict limits/an expiration date.

example: in a timeline where kon is “on his own” (tied up with media/various entities using him for their own benefit) for a few more years (therefore also probably a timeline where superman stays dead or out of the picture longer—not forever! just longer), kon doesn’t start teaming up with robin until they’re older. the two also start to hook up, and kon—based on past experience—knows what people tend to want from him and how they’re never interested in anything but the persona he puts on. and sex. basically he knows people want to have sex with superboy, not have a relationship with kon. kon acts accordingly, keeping things “cool” and “casual” even if he really wants more, and takes any indication that robin is frustrated or upset with him as further proof that kon won’t get to keep what little of this he has if he doesn’t stay cool and fun and, well, available at all times. (meanwhile tim is battling an extremely inconvenient crush and trying to figure out why superboy can’t seem to take anything seriously. eventually tim learns more about kon’s past “relationships” and what kon expected tim to expect from him.)

the lesser evil: character B is somehow under control/under the thumb of someone and has to act a certain way in order to achieve their goals/ensure someone’s safety; A does not know this.

example: a concept where tim is undercover in an enemy court/company and encounters kon, a science experiment/captive (whatever the au genre calls for). tim can’t just break them out and run, and so for his and kon’s safety has to play along for a while, and kon sees him as another enemy at first. (this concept is a great setup for kon pangs too.)

back to the beginning, but worse now: at some point in the plot, character B is temporarily happy/has gotten what they want only for the misunderstanding/insecurity to be reintroduced/reinforced and the temporary happiness ruined (likely in a way that’s humiliating for character B).

example: the end of bbts chapter 4 😎

all of these pang flavors can coexist/feed into each other, too, depending on the plot.

the environment of a pang

like with any fic/au/concept, it’s not as simple as taking characters and dropping them into random tropes/plots. the best pangs unfold naturally from the characters themselves—their specific insecurities, their flaws and preconceptions that would lend to the kind of shifting understanding of both themselves and other characters that come from the misconception ➡️ misunderstanding ➡️ understanding arc. tim is a great character for a lot of these pangs because he does struggle with self-worth and high expectations, he has been shown to isolate/take on too much before seeking help for himself (and also has shown to lead teams and build support systems for others, so we can map an arc that ends with him doing that for himself), he cares deeply about others without always expecting the same in return, he’ll put himself in danger to achieve his goals/pull self-sacrificial gambits, and so on. any pang setup would build out from traits already inherent in whatever character you’re writing.

the same goes for the other character(s)—they should have a good reason for misunderstanding/disliking/dismissing character B at first, something that is natural to their history/personality and to the story plot. if it’s early in tim’s robin days, you could draw on bruce’s grief if you want him to be distant/dismissive of tim. if it’s a setup where tim meets the bats early, you could very conceivably have jason dislike tim off the bat (ha) because jason assumes tim will judge his background and jason therefore overcompensates in his defensiveness. any early meeting of tim and kon could easily lean into kon’s pride and the (understandable but giant) chip on his shoulder to make him chafe at tim’s intensity. (that script can be easily flipped for kon pangs, with tim fully misunderstanding kon’s brash confidence and assuming a lack of care.) all this to say, a good setup considers all characters involved for maximum pangtential.

the purpose of a pang

a good pang achieves a few things: a dissection of a character’s vulnerabilities, some excellent and character-driven angst, and direct catharsis from the resolution of that angst. (and to be clear, there can be pangs without catharsis—i just love the fully realized potential of ones that do come with a resolution.) there seem to be endless wells of pangs for my favorite characters—which i recognize is probably not a coincidence—and while i haven’t always been able to articulate what it is i like about these characters being put in Situations where they suffer so specifically, it is something that consistently brings me joy. and i know i’m not at all alone in this, and it’s very likely someone has already articulated this concept way better than i have. i hope this attempt made some amount of sense. and mostly, i hope everyone who also likes pangs keeps finding and creating them as much as they want.

(seriously, to the creating part—i want to read them. i want to read them all.)