#and you = talented but me ≠ talented but i did my best

[mym1na]

𝐋 🎱 𝓡 — HESITATING .ᐟ PT2! ⋆˚࿔

— “𝑾ait, now do I want you more?.”

synopsis; Yn was Lara's entire opposite—her counterpoint, if you will. She was awkward and slightly odd, while Lara was confident and outgoing, but hey, opposites attract, right?

Lara Raj x fem!r ღ [ 𝙮𝙩 𝙫𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙤.] | fluff + loser yn.

katseye 7th 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 au. | pt1! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

— 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙥 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙛 ღ [WEVERSE DMS] OnlyFans.

230K Likes | 838K Views

yn: sometimes I forget I’m lowk tatted up until I see an edit whenever I wear short sleeve shirts

yn: u whores

yn: I mean, young, taleented ppl

yn: *talented

yn: Now, whoever asked me to do a naked tattoo tour? insane work.

yn: lowk, if y'all paid for it, will do it

yn: pls don't take that seriously.

yn: ok, that was a joke. I'm not going to make an OnlyFans

yn: but I am currently on my way to get a new tat. hahaha. lol. Bye.

— 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙥 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧 ღ [WEVERSE LIVE] tatted + surprised, lara!

230K Likes | 838K Views

Yn settled in at her desk, waiting for the live stream to begin. She fiddled with the ends of the Saniderm that now covered her neck. Was she told not to get a tattoo on the side of her neck? Yes. Did she listen? Nope.

This was her first solo livestream since the Ynara live she bombed. It was different; she wasn't as nervous as she had been when she went live with Lara; instead, she leaned back into her chair, sighing comfortably.

"This is tattoo number ten?” She says as she watches the live comments pass by quickly.

C͟H͟A͟T͟

nahhhh… yn is rlly fine shyt when she’s by herself… OnlyFans?

LARA. I'M STANDING UP AND APPLAUDING FOR YOU IF YN BAGS YOU

The tattoo, bro. busted.

Yn let out a small laugh as she read the comments. “Guys—please, I’m not starting an OnlyFans,” she says as she shakes her head and awkwardly stares at the cameras as she gets way too many ‘*OnlyFans when?*’ questions.

C͟H͟A͟T͟

Lara: ONLYFANS????? HELLO???

Lara: It should be onlyFORlara.

LMFAOO LARA????

Yn coughed nervously as she caught Lara's comment, along with thousands of other people in her life. “Lara…” Yn clicked on her phone screen, making sure it didn't turn off while she struggled to find her words. God, Lara never makes things easy for her.

While sitting in silence for a full minute, Yn heard soft footsteps approaching her room, followed by a small knock at her door as Lara opened it and peeked through. “Only for Lara. Remember that.” Lara laughed softly, keeping her head peeking through the door as she watched Yn turn in her chair and stare at her, lost for words.

Yn furrowed her brow, looking at the girl as if she had just stolen something from her. "You're odd," she says softly, beginning to rub the side of her cheek, embarrassed by the girl's words. If she had her normal lights on, you could definitely see how red she turned in response to Lara's words.

Lara playfully rolled her eyes as she pushed through Yn’s door, closing it behind her as she walked up to where the girl sat, waving at the live. “Hey, guys…” Lara slouched down so she could be in frame.

Yn watched as the girl interacted with her live, Lara's words fading as she continued to stare—she was at it again. She was enchanted by the girl and couldn't stop staring, no matter how hard she tried.

It was so bad that Lara turned to check on Yn, who had become quiet. "You keep doing that," Lara said, breaking Yn's stare.

“Huh…?”

"You stare a lot—mouth open and all," Lara explains, nudging Yn, who shrugs awkwardly.

"I don't stare—”

“Liar.’ Lara interrupts the girl before she can continue.

“Whatever…”

C͟H͟A͟T͟

yn…bb…you're fumbling my queen

Guys, yn is trying her best…!

Ynara this, Ynara that, but guys, what about the neck tat????????

— 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙥 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 ღ [FAN CLIP] you & lara?

76K Likes | 520K Views

While the rest of her members fought to get into the crowd to meet their fans, Yn quietly stood back, leaving a small gap between herself and the people around her. While she was the complete opposite of her members, she attempted to keep conversations going despite the fact that she was out of her element.

“Yn!” A fan's voice cut through the crowd of people, causing Yn to turn to the voice, “Hm?”

"What's up with you and Lara?” The person's voice asked as she leaned against the barrier.

Yn tilted her head, unsure what the person meant by the question. “What? We’re good.” She responded, assuming it was one of those questions where people assumed they didn't get along with each other.

“No! Like— come on… be honest, you two are a thing, *right?*” A simple question that Yn quickly denied as she turned a slight red.

”No!” She let out a breathy, awkward laugh. "Lara and I—well, We're just Lara and me.” She cleared her throat, aware that the answer sounded stupid. It wasn't a lie, though—She and Lara were simply Lara and Yn, nothing more or less. Yn's crush isn't 'nothing less,' but she digresses.

It was a short interaction, but it was one that Yn would have deep in her mind forever at this point, she should make a scoreboard of how many times she made things weird or just plain awkward.

And she already knew that Lara would eventually see that clip and start to haunt her with it. Lara always made a point of doing things like this; it was almost second nature to her. When Yn says something strange, Lara finds a clip and uses it to tease her.

— 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙥 𝙨𝙞𝙭 ღ [ALLURE] So good.

180K Likes | 623K Views

As all the Katseye girls sat around the round table, blue drinks in front of each of them, they all read off their cards. Yn remained silent as she listened to her members yap away, smiling whenever they said something stupid.

"Yn," Lara's voice caught Yn off guard as she sat up in her chair alongside Daniela and Megan. “What was the last Message you sent to someone?” Lara asked as she read the question from the card.

The other members responded with small 'ooo’s' to the question.

Yn blinked before she reached into her hoodie pocket, pulling out her phone as she unlocked it to check what her message was.

“Wait—Are you going to actually answer this?” Sophia’s voice rang through the room as she stared over at Yn.

Yn shrugged. “Well, I don’t remember what it was, so—” Yn said, clicking on the message app to open her most recent message.

"Oh," Yn said to herself, shaking her head as she read the messages.“Uh—You know, I think I should keep this to myself.” Her face scrunched up, evidently embarrassed by the message.

“What is it?” Megan inquired, trying to sneak a peek at Yn's phone. Yn only turned her phone to show Megan what it was, which made the girl laugh, and she looked at Lara before turning away.

Megan giggles, "I think that's fine.”

“What is it?” Lara inquired, noting Megan's glance at her, leaving her to wonder what the message was about.

“Um-hm.” Yn debated internally, trying to decide what she should do. Woman up and do it, or don't.

Yn let out a sharp sigh as she looked around the table, meeting curious eyes and Lara, the girl she could never get away from. She didn’t know if it was the fact that this was a truth game or whatever, but she spoke her truth.

“Okay…um—How do I say this without it being weird…” Yn, she muttered as Megan looked at her, surprised. “Oh my— Are you gonna do it?”

Yn softly nodded her head as she tried to find the right words. “Okay... The last message I texted was to one of my best friends, and I said, ‘IMA THROW UP. LARA LOOKS SO GOOD.” Yn quickly read out her messages, her voice trailing off as she threw her phone on the table and covered her face in embarrassment.

Lara sat in her seat for the first time and was surprised by Yn's comments because she was used to Yn keeping them private. She cleared her throat as she nodded slowly, trying to hold back her grin that threatened to show. “You know, Yn, you could've just texted me that.”

"Bro, shut up," Yn says, her words stifled behind her hands—her ears turned red with embarrassment as she began to reconsider the entire 'woman up' thing.

"Guys, can we just move on—I'm embarrassed," Yn says, removing her hands from her face, only to look over to Lara and become flustered again. She stared for a mere second before she looked away again, clearing her throat, hoping everyone would just move on.

Thankfully, they did, but Yn couldn’t help but notice the glances and smirks Lara was sending her way.

note: it’s okay guys, I think i will cook a pt3 regardless…I think, don't hold it against me. Anyways, the writing might be a little flip floppy but idk i tried ! 😖

— 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 | 𝙥𝙩1 | pt3(?)

taglist: @frenchyypoo @liancacoltrane1

[bebethsas]

writing prompt:

a bunch of 'tumblr' (runeterra adjacent to tumblr) friends form a group chatting back and forth about their theories about Jayce Talis' "secret partner."

Then one night one of them gets an anon ask saying something like "I see that you are interesed in the history of Hextech and its founders. I can answer some of your questions. What would you like to know?"

and at first this person ignores it, but then more and more asks come in (and then more members of the group start to also receive the same asks):

"the discoloration of page 58 of Jayce's earliest journal was when he knocked over a mug of sweetmilk."

"he had a fear of bats."

"the schematic on page 204 of Jayce's second journal was a joke--I was halfway through soldering the frame when he doubled over laughing."

and then even weirder asks come in, written as if they're answering the older asks, even though those anon asks were never answered/ published on the blogs:

" tumblr.com/runetalis/74553408893347519/the-discoloration-of-page-58-of-Jayces-second?source=share Hey, at least it didn't get on the crystals, right? And I made you a new one, remember??"

"tumblr.com/runetalis/74553418993537520/he-had-a-fear-of-bats?source=share I did NOT!"

"tumblr.com/runetalis/74553408893347519/the-schematic-on-page-204-of-Jayces-second?source=share ohhh yeahhh--that's right! you were so mad--you shut off your torch, whipped off your protective goggles and started throwing chalk at me! ...worth it. I can't believe I forgot that."

"tumblr.com/runetalis/74562118503246/httpswwwtumblrcomrunetalis74553408893347519d?source=share I can't believe you forgot that too--by the time Sky arrived that morning, you were hiding under our desk and trying to negotiate peace talks."

"tumblr.com/runetalis/74562204212021/httpswwwtumblrcomrunetalis74562118503246d?source=share peace talks which you immediately broke, by the way."

"tumblr.com/runetalis/74562402417122/httpswwwtumblrcomrunetalis74562204212021d?source=share Eh, I saw an opportunity and took it."

Viktor drops a hint that he carved their initials into the wall of their lab, behind their desk:

"vandalism, Viktor? really??"

"What? I was 29 and desperately in love with my best friend--my straight best friend."

"your straight hadn't-had-his-bi-awakening-yet best friend. there, fixed it for you."

"Isn't that just the phrase 'in the closet?'"

"being 'in the closet' implies that you know that you're in a closet. I didn't even know that I had one."

(one of the friends is attending the university, and is able to sneak into Jayce and Viktor's old lab--it's still there, just preserved as an important part of Piltover history--and nudge that heavy desk aside. The desk hasn't been moved in *decades* and it shows. They move the desk as far as they can, and sure enough, smoothly carved into the wall, just above the baseboard, is: 'JT +V-' (they can't make out the last initial, and they couldn't move the desk any farther). Heart pounding, they carefully slide the desk back into place and sneak back out.)

bonus:

what is this 'hexussy' people keep talking about?

Viktor, wait, no, NO--!

are you okay?

...knowledge is a paradox, my love; the more you know, the more you wish not to know. There are some very talented artists on here, that is all I will say.

ANYWAY

at first the group thinks that it's a bot, or a troll--but how could these messages 'respond' to previous asks if the asks were never published? Even if someone managed to steal a password and login to one of their blogs, that person would have to publish the ask in order to respond to that post's message. And all of the asks are still sitting in their inboxes. Unpublished/ unanswered.

anyway, something something Jayce and Viktor are haunting technology, something something they saw people start to speculate about Viktor and start to get exited about him (his existence, as well as his potentially secret love affair with Jayce...), so they decided to pop down and educate some people.

Sometimes, I like to think about post canon modern piltover and zaun and how they would look back on Viktor and Jayce.

Like immagine:

The war was decades years ago. Piltover and zaun are completely modernized, and some nerdy kids are on their runterra version of tumblr nerding out about gay history (as we do). And one of them is like:

"Did you guys know that Jayce Talis actually wasn't the sole creator of hextech and he had a secret coworker he called his "partner" who was erased from all the research files for some unknown reason."

And they would go insane making theories about this secret partner. Digging through old files to find his name. Puzzling together the hidden truth

[coolwyous]

┈─★ 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 .

         ⊹ ࣪ ˖ megan knows her confession came at a terrible, horrible time. megan knows she had a million chances before now to say something. megan knows it's probably selfish, could ruin the band, and is overall extremely unfair. but megan also knows she needs to set the record straight— it was messy, and it was imperfect, sure, but megan loved you, that much she knows for certain.

            ˎˊ˗  ☀️  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  ୭˚.  ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

   ➴ ➴ pairing: idol!megan skiendiel x f!reader.

          ➴ genre + wc: 7k, childhood friends, unrequited love, heavy pining, angst, megan is so down bad it hurts, also sorry manon for what u are about to go through, reader is oblivious, megan is lowkey a shit-head punk in this but idc i found it fun!!

   ➴ you might want to tune in...: misses - dominic fike. ♫

           ┈─★ a/n: i wanted some megan pining + megan angst so guess what i did <33

the fact that your friendship survived her time on dream academy is a miracle in and of itself. 

megan is sitting criss-crossed on your bed, trying to stack your squishmallows. squishmallows she herself has bought you, she herself insisted you keep, she herself would pretend to cry every time you even considered getting rid of them.

“can i post this?” she asks, holding up a photo on her phone you two had taken that morning at the beach. 

she had flown back home to hawaii for a few days, to spend time with her family before the katseye tour started, but insisted on spending as much of her vacation with you. 

“crop me out please,” you tell her, as if she doesn’t already know your rule. 

but megan is stubborn, and insists on trying anyways. 

“why can’t i tag you?” she groans, throwing herself back on the bed. 

“people would ask about me,” you remind her. 

when she had first gone on dream academy, you knew it was going to change everything for her. of course it would, after all, she’s megan— charming, hardworking, and so, so talented. it was a matter of time before the world discovered her, and you were well prepared, but that didn’t mean you necessarily wanted the same. while megan dreamed of reaching every corner of the world, you wanted to keep your head low, focus on getting through each day, making the most of the life you have in front of you instead of chasing anything too big or too flashy. 

it’s what made you two so good together— megan, the dreamer with her head in the clouds, and you, the earth beneath her feet. 

“so what?” she questions, brows furrowing. “we just don’t hang out any more? you’re my best friend.”

“meiyok, you do this every week,” you laugh, playfully rubbing her forehead to try and smooth out her eyebrows. “i have to hide, since you want to go off and blow up and shit.”

“not my fault i’m so talented,” megan grins.

“it is your fault that you attract attention so easily,” you tease. “miss future superstar.”

megan’s fingers hover over your photos: you laughing in the water, her on an electric scooter, the two of you chasing after seagulls on the beach. 

“are you sure?”

you nod. “i don’t want the world to know about me.”

“how are people supposed to know that i’m your friend?” she asks, and you see her lips curl up into a pout. 

“you know, and i know,” you give her a gentle caress of the arm to try and soothe her. “that’s who matters, right? us.”

“right.” megan nods, blinking. “us. right.”

she deletes the photos that have any trace of you, posting herself instead, deleting the way she tagged you for photo credits, simply captioning it the sunshine feels good. you thank her and go back to hunting through your closet for clothes you don’t wear any more to make room for the new. 

you don’t notice that megan spots an old hoodie she had gifted you in the “giveaway” pile. you don’t see her wince, her face tensing in realization. you don’t see her pick up the hoodie, bring it to her cheek to smell your familiar scent, and fold up politely, before tucking it into her tote bag. she figures if you were getting rid of it, you probably won’t notice. she’s right. you don’t.

—

touring takes off, and every day, you see megan’s follower count on instagram skyrocket further and further. you see her everywhere— on your tik tok, on your socials, you hear their songs on the radio, you even see megan’s face on posters out on buildings. people in your small town are beyond proud of her, posting about how they’ve known her since she was a kid or how she used to come buy shaved ice from their stand on the beach. but you never do, this is about megan, not about you, and you’re happy just knowing what you do about your best friend. your bond is nobody’s business but your own, and you intend to keep it that way.

she’s been insanely busy since the tour started, but when you get a facetime call one morning from your goofy meiyok, knowing they just touched down in hawaii for a performance, you pick up ASAP as to not leave her waiting.

(you already know what she’s going to ask.)

“will you come to our show?” she asks breathlessly, no greeting, no check in if you’re busy, no letting you know when and where. it’s how megan operates: messy, a little recklessly, but so full of good intentions, leading herself through the world heart-first and using her head later.

“wouldn’t miss it,” you smile. “already asked for tonight off from work.

“will you sit backstage?” she asks eagerly, and your stomach twists at the idea. you never wanted to get special treatment, to mooch off megan’s success in any way. you had already bought your own ticket, never wanting megan to feel like she had to give any kind of hand-out to you or like you were using her for the perks. this girl had been your best friend since childhood, and you knew she’d insist on being generous, but that was your job. to shut her down, to tell her no, and to keep living your normal life even when megan wanted to bring you into her lavish lifestyle. your job was to not get caught up in the glamor of it all, and make sure she still feels human at the end of the day.

“i don’t know, mei…” you say hesitantly. 

“let me upgrade you to VIP at least and i’ll find you after. or something.” her voice is eager, and even though the camera is moving around to the point it makes you dizzy, you can still see her pleading puppy dog eyes through the facetime screen. “please please please, y/n!”

“don’t crash out,” you laugh, figuring the compromise is fair enough. “i’ll be there.”

“see you tonight,” she beams, nearly glowing through the screen, and you wave before hanging up. 

the concert is every bit as fun as you anticipated it would be. megan, true to her word, gets your ticket upgraded to VIP, but you’re much more comfortable with seeming like another casual fan than sitting backstage. you can see her better like this anyways, more authentically herself. you think back to every dance competition you had come to cheer her on for, every audition you waited in the car with, even the way you had helped her pick a song for her dream academy audition. 

and now here she is, performing to a sold-out crowd in your hometown, her smile never leaving her face as she sings and effortlessly completes her choreography. she seems so, so happy doing this, and you love seeing her in her element. shining, exactly as you knew she was meant for.

the concert comes to an end, and she calls you nearly as soon as you see her step off stage. she has security guide you through towards the backstage area, as hidden as you can be, and you finally get a chance to meet the girls that you had seen in the background of your facetime calls. 

they had all tried to follow you on instagram after the final katseye lineup had been announced, and you figured megan had done more than her fair share of mentioning you during her dream academy time, but you had made it a point to not follow them back. sure, they were megan’s friends, but they were her coworkers first and foremost, and you knew that being on their following list as international popstars would make you an easy target for internet investigators. the last thing you wanted was any weird fan digging you up, so you kept to yourself.

but now, with them in the flesh, you figure you can warm up to them now that they’re real girls in front of your eyes and not just voices and photos behind a screen.

“y/n, we finally meet!” sophia laughs, reaching out to swoop you into a hug as if you guys already knew each other. she’s first to come out from the green room, followed one by one by the rest of them.

“i’m gonna be so honest,” daniela admits sheepishly, wiping down her face with a towel, “i thought you were made up.”

“no forreal, like imaginary friend status,” lara grins, and the four of you laugh. “or like an ai that meggy was always on the phone with.”

“what’s so funny?” megan asks, finally emerging from the room with yoonchae right behind her, furrowing her eyebrows as she reaches over to give you a crushing hug. 

“nothing,” you reassure her, hugging her back, not minding the sweat. “just teasing you.”

“oh, so the usual bullshit,” she groans, but the smile on her face tells you it’s all in good fun. yoonchae offers you a quick nod, and you all make small talk as the girls refuel with snacks and rehydrate.

you’re caught off guard when the dressing room door opens a final time, their final and missing member stepping out into the hallway with you guys. your eyes meet, and you instantly feel a tingle in your spine with the way her eyes light up.

“oh, who is you?” she says in a mock-surprised voice, causing the rest of the girls to crack up. you can tell manon is the influential one, the way she radiates confidence, and you’ve never been one to get starstruck, but maybe there’s a first for everything. 

the girls all scream and echo it, imitating her: “oh who is you?” over and over again, back and forth, cracking themselves up as it gets funnier and funnier each time they say it, all of them laughing.

well… all of them except for one.

“you know who this is,” megan rolls her eyes, and you’re thrown off by how your usually goofy best friend is for some reason not into the whole bit.

“well where are your manners, megan? introduce me,” manon tells her, crossing her arms over her chest nonchalantly, not letting megan’s disposition throw her off.

that’s the thing about megan that you’ve always known— megan has a big heart, but she’s ruled by her emotions, and whatever she’s feeling right now is written across her face. you want to investigate further, to ask her what her deal is, but before you can get a chance, megan is already complying. you sense that she’s not quite ready to go against manon, and rolls her eyes as she points between the two of you.

“manon, y/n,” she says, gritting her teeth. “y/n, manon.”

“same name on instagram? or…” manon’s eyes flicker up playfully at you as she pulls out her phone.

“y/n doesn’t want us following her on socials,” megan says quickly, her eyes wide, realizing what manon is suggesting.

“this one’s fine,” you grin, waving her off, feeling your cheeks warm up. manon smiles back at you and hands you her phone.

“oh, special treatment much?” lara boos playfully. “quit rizzing up the quiet ones, manon.”

you all laugh, and your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling. manon won’t stop looking at you, smiling back.

what you don’t catch is megan’s forced smile. she’s smiling, but it doesn’t make it to her eyes.

—

the girls are all supposed to fly to LA later that night, but megan opts to stay in hawaii one day longer, getting a later flight so she can spend more time with her loved ones. you worry that she’ll be sleep deprived from the messed up schedule but she insists she’ll be fine, promising you there’s no need to worry. she stays at her parent’s house that night instead of a hotel, and she barely gets a chance to ask before you’re reassuring her that you’ll spend the night.

she tells you all about the grueling dance practices, the people she’s met on tour, the secret new album they’re working on recording in between tour dates. the two of you lay side by side in her bed, in the same room she’s had since you were first friends, and spend the whole night laughing at tik toks and reminiscing about the mess that was your group junior prom, ending in megan ripping her dress down her ass from dancing too wildly on the dance floor. 

you can hear her breathing even out as she quiets down, clearly drifting off after such a long night. but you have a pressing question, one that makes you a little nervous, and you realize asking megan now is better than waiting for a chance that might never come again. 

“hey,” you tap her on the nose, gently, with your finger. 

she grumbles and turns over in her sleep, her nose wrinkling but she doesn’t open her eyes. “you’re waking me up for what?”

“to ask you a question,” you tell her. 

“it can’t wait?” she asks, letting out a sigh. 

“it’s serious,” you finally admit, biting your lip. “i don’t want to lose you.”

she turns over instantly, her eyes wide as they look up at you. she seems panicked, and you worry that maybe this wasn’t a good idea in the first place. 

“maybe i should say something first,” megan mumbles quietly, and you feel your chest thud. 

“i mean, you can, if you want,” you offer. 

“no actually, you first,” she shakes her head, eyes screwing shut for a brief moment. you can feel her nervous breaths on the tip of your nose, the closeness between the two of you. she opens her eyes once more and nods, blinking. “okay, i’m ready.”

“i know i haven’t exactly wanted to be in the spotlight with you,” you start, your voice quiet. you know it’s unfair— all megan has ever been is kind, and patient, and understanding, and you realize maybe, that kind of patience was all you needed to take a leap like this.

“do you think i could have manon’s number?” you finally blurt, biting down on your bottom lip anxiously as the words leave your mouth. “might be easier than dm’s.”

megan looks at you, blinking back, as if in shock. her body is still for a few moments, but she quickly shakes her head, as if she’s waking back up. her brows furrow across her forehead, and you worry for a second that you’ve offended her by seeking out a way to get closer to her coworker after all you’ve said and done to avoid being involved with all this, but megan is megan, and you realize it was silly to worry. she’s always going to have your back.

“yeah,” she nods slowly, swallowing down. “yeah, um, i don’t think she’ll mind.”

you smile and press your foreheads together, grateful to whatever is out there that gave you the angel that is megan skiendiel. “what were you going to say earlier, mei?”

she closes her eyes as your foreheads touch, her breath gentle against your face. “uh… just if you’re busy tomorrow. if we could surf or something. i’ve missed you.”

“i can fit you in the schedule,” you grin, before feeling your eyelids getting heavy. you leave your head there, comforted by the sound of megan’s breaths so close to you, feeling your heart race still from your question. “my eyes are closing. good night, mei.”

you fall asleep, and don’t notice the way megan’s eyes flutter back open and linger on your lips for much, much longer than needed. 

—

a few weeks later, you have a break in your work schedule, and megan insists on flying you out to LA with her and the kats to spend some time together before their tour picks back up.

you and megan spend the day touring the city, hitting the beach, laughing your heads off. she brings you to a park, unpacking a tote bag to reveal the makings of a picnic as you two sit in the grass and admire the sunset. the watermelon is sticky against your chin, and she laughs taking photos of you against the california sky. 

“would you help me with something?” you ask, watching as she struggles to neatly cut a piece of cheese with her stupid little charcuterie knife, making a mess on the blanket. you laugh, and she grins up at you.

“anything,” she answers easily.

“manon finally asked me on a date,” you admit. the two of you had been texting non-stop since their show in hawaii, and even though she was in new york right now doing publicity for a makeup brand, she had offered to take you out as soon as she’s back in LA as long as you’re still there.

“no yeah, duh,” she blinks, as if she wasn’t expecting it. “of course.”

you grimace. megan hadn’t asked how things were going between the two of you, and you hadn’t made it a point to ask. megan had never been open about dating during your friendship, and you were always too picky to be serious about any crushes, so the two of you had never really gotten to the point of talking about your romantic interests. plus, with megan, your heart was full enough— some days, you wondered why people were so obsessed with the idea of a partner when you had such an incredible best friend to fill your days with.

“she gets back tomorrow. i need help picking an outfit,” you tell her, staring down at the charcuterie platter and fruits in front of you. “and maybe what to say.”

“just be you,” she says simply, looking down again at the cheese and crackers. she doesn’t eat them, just fidgets with them, as she’s always done, a busy body at heart.

“what does she like?” you ask, feeling your throat uncomfortably dry at the thought of your impending date.

megan shakes her head. “don’t worry about that. just be you.”

“i am worrying. i want her to like me,” you admit.

“she will,” megan reassures you, her voice quiet.

“i’m worried if things go poorly i’ll lose you,” you confess, tilting your head at her. “make things weird.”

“it won’t. i’ve got your back,” megan nods, reaching out to pat you gently on the shoulder.

“thanks,” you breathe.

she wrinkles her nose, and you can see she’s debating something inside herself, but within moments, she’s blurting out her question, no filter.

“how come you didn’t want to be seen with me but you’re down to go see manon?”

“it’s not like that,” you shake your head, realizing it may seem unfair in your best friend’s eyes. “it’s easier to hide one date than our whole ass friendship.”

“what if she falls in love with you?” megan presses on, her eyes wide and pleading. “what then?”

“well, that’s not my problem,” you laugh, wondering where this sudden stress is coming on from. “i’m just trying to get through that damn date.”

“you’re right, you’re right,” megan shakes her head. “sorry. you know how i get.”

you reach over to stroke her back reassuringly, before adding a quiet confession, your lips curling into an eager smile.

“i’m excited for the first time in a long time,” you admit. “she seems like a really good one.”

you don’t notice megan’s head fall ever so slightly. she never tells you about how long she had planned this picnic, making sure to choose all your favorite things, the blanket in your favorite color. 

—

a few weeks later, your uber is dropping you off at an unfamiliar door, as you try to knock as quietly as possible to not seem suspicious in this unfamiliar neighborhood.

the door swings open, and you see her— clearly having just woken up, hair a mess, but so, so familiar. you can’t stop yourself from smiling at the sight of her.

“y/n,” megan beams excitedly, her eyes going wide as she realizes you’re in front of her, in the flesh. “you’re here?”

“i flew in this morning,” you grin. “surprise.”

she grabs your bag and pulls you into the house, wrapping you up in a hug so tight, it knocks the wind out of your lungs. she’s smiling so brightly, her teeth on full display, it’s almost like you just told her she’s won the lottery. her words come out a million miles a minute, the girl rambling all on what seems like a single breath as she looks you over.

“how do you feel? are you jet lagged? what are you doing today? if you give me like 5 minutes, i can get ready super duper fast and we can hang out— do you want to go get a coffee?”

you can’t help but smile, even if you are absolutely exhausted from your red-eye. megan just has that cheering effect on people. “i was craving a coffee so bad, actually. where has a good drive-thru?”

“i was thinking i could show you this new place downtown—” megan starts, smiling sheepishly, but you’re both quickly interrupted by a third voice and the sound of steps coming from upstairs.

“no way, is that my woman?” manon beams, coming down the stairs. “you look so fine, what the hell.”

“flew in to surprise you,” you smile, your cheeks burning at the sight of her. 

“you shouldn’t have,” manon grins, reaching over to grab your hand and kiss you. you’ve always been shy about pda, but ever since becoming official last week, you haven’t minded squeezing it in any chance you get.

“coffee date with megan?” you offer, motioning to the tallest of the three of you.

but megan’s smile has turned into a tight line of her lips pressing together, looking down at the way manon has her arm wrapped around your waist. 

“nah, you guys go, i just remembered i have a thing,” megan waves you off, rubbing the back of her neck. “i’ll send you the spot. bring me back something?”

you open your mouth to ask something, but manon is faster.

“i need a driver,” manon grins sheepishly. “still getting that american license, remember?”

“y/n can drive my car. you’ll be careful, right?” she looks over at you, handing you her keys, something in her eyes that makes you want to ask.

but you don’t, instead smiling back at manon and putting the keys in your pocket. “of course, i’ll be careful.”

“see ya,” she waves you two off, watching as manon follows you out the door, the two of you covering your faces with sunglasses and masks.

you don’t see the way megan looks down at her hands. you never realize that you forget to bring her back a drink.

—

the girls only get more busy, and you only have so many hours in a day. manon calls you on routine, every morning before you go to work, but that means you have less time for megan’s calls. but she still makes it a point to send you postcards from every new city, sending you pictures over text even if you take forever to reply, reminding you that she’s there even if you guys aren’t talking as often as you had at one point.

but after a particularly grueling fight over the phone with manon, you find yourself seeking her out. you know they’re in korea right now, and manon was nearly falling asleep halfway through your fight, but your call only rings once before megan is picking up, her groggy voice soothing you instantly.

“y/n,” she breathes, quiet but excited. “it’s been forever.”

“hey mei,” you smile, but you realize your voice is shaky. “sorry, i know you might be sleeping.”

“what’s wrong?” she asks instantly. years together make it easy for her to read you, too easy.

“i just need you to tell me i’m being irrational,” you breathe, feeling mildly guilty that your first real conversation in weeks is for you to complain about her friend. but megan stays quiet, and listens, letting you rant about the fight you just had, getting it all off your chest. she listen, without judgement, without cutting you off, and you feel yourself instantly comforted. megan always manages to know exactly what to do.

you reach the end of your rant, and she’s quiet for a beat longer.

“are you okay?” she asks simply, no judgement, no anger. just concern.

“she’s just too calm sometimes,” you sigh. “like too relaxed.”

“manon’s probably an avoidant attachment,” megan offers, contemplatively. “maybe she thinks you guys are going to hurt each other so she’d rather not talk about the hard stuff.”

you bite your lip, staring up at your ceiling. “has she said anything about me?”

“manon’s super private,” megan sighs. “doesn’t even talk about you to me any more. not since you became official.”

“i know she is,” you mumble back. the thing you had appreciated so much about manon was slowly starting to become an issue in and of itself.

there’s another pause, and you can practically hear the gears turning in megan’s head.

“is she being good to you?” she asks, her voice gentle, tender even. “treating you well?”

“i know we have our ups and downs, but i’m really happy,” you reiterate.

“do you think we would have been happy?” she asks, quickly, as if she’s scared that the line will cut at any given moment. “if we stayed close.”

“maybe,” you smile, though it hurts. all your years, and you never pictured that you and megan could possibly grow apart. but time and distance will do that to you, you figure. “do you ever miss me?”

“maybe,” megan smiles, her voice lighter. “do you miss me?”

“a little,” you admit. being worlds apart with no time to spend together has taken its toll, but your joy in seeing her live out her dreams outweighs it all. “but it’s easier to be proud of you. i feel like i’m distracting you less.”

“no way!” megan nearly shouts, making you smile. “you were never a distraction. honestly i wish you’d live with us at this point.”

“you guys would get sick of me,” you laugh. 

“maybe everyone else would,” she teases. “‘cause you’re annoying or whatever. but i wouldn’t.”

“manon would be sooo tired of me,” you laugh again. megan laughs with you, and it’s enough to comfort you. you guys say goodnight, and you hang up soon after to get ready for a family dinner. 

you don’t hear megan’s chest tighten after you hang up, the way she lets out a quiet breath. you don’t see megan fall back into her hotel room bed, head thudding into the pillow, her chest aching, whispering quietly to herself in the silence of the night.

“i’d never get tired of you.”

—

another few months go by, and katseye is at the peak of their popularity after gnarly drops. people are eager for their new upcoming EP, and the girls are riding the wave, taking every opportunity to generate talk about their music.

you finally get around to watching their weverse live, partially because you love seeing your two favorite people interact, and partially because their busy schedule has made long phone calls impossible and you miss the sound of manon’s voice. 

you and megan have talked even less than before, but you won’t overthink it. you know she’s off living her best life, and the thought makes your heart warm. 

you watch the live from your seat in an airplane— hoping to surprise your girlfriend with a visit for the weekend while she’s back in LA.

manon sits in front of the camera, seated next to megan, with yoonchae floating somewhere behind them, just happy to be included.

“manon, spill love life tea?” yoonchae reads out loud, before smiling and shaking her head. “wrong person to ask, guys.”

“guess what i’m definitely not talking about?” manon laughs, rolling her eyes. 

“pussy,” megan teases under her breath, much to their surprise, and yoonchae throws her head back in laugher. you smile, grateful megan ended up in a group that lets her be her colorful, goofy self.

“me?” manon presses a hand to her own chest in disbelief, but it’s all playful between the trio. “watch it, ‘cause i can throw a math problem your way real quick, kid.”

megan grins and is next to read a comment. “drop some lore.”

manon shakes her head. “yoonchae?”

“i have nothing,” the maknae says plainly, before reading the next comment. “unnie line, rizz us up.” 

“no rizz tonight folks, freshly out,” manon jokes, before squinting into the camera in a goofy pose. you know someone is bound to make a tik tok edit out of the pose by the end of the night. 

“and i’m just a lovergirl, that’s my rizz,” megan shrugs, throwing her hands up. you laugh. this dork.

“someone said how can megan be a lovergirl if she’s never loved a girl, poser af,” yoonchae cracks up laughing, and manon follows suit. 

megan laughs along, but you notice her eyes squinting at something, almost as if she’s thinking. or rather, over-thinking.

she’s quiet for a few moments longer, the other two scrolling through the chat to hunt for more comments to interact with, but then megan pushes manon by the shoulder, getting her attention. she points to the camera, smiling, but there’s something extra in her eyes, a twinkle of determination. you wonder what the hell she’s possibly up to.

“tell them,” she says simply to manon, pointing again to the camera.

“tell them what?” manon asks, genuinely lost, looking between the younger girl and the camera where they’re livestreaming.

“i am a certified lovergirl,” megan reaffirms, nodding confidently, before dropping a bombshell on the live.

“tell them about how i helped you bag your chick.”

you feel the world pause. yoonchae freezes, manon’s eyes go wide, and your heart drops into your stomach. 

“megan,” manon says quickly, like a warning. 

your chest tightens. maybe they could have played it off, but your girlfriend’s impulse reaction is obvious enough to show that she’s unnerved by megan’s reveal, and they are definitely not doing a bit any more. you look at the comments, which are now blowing up a mile a minute. 

CHICK?!?!? manon has a gf? 😔❤️ MANON WLW CONFIRMED 🏳️‍🌈 did megan wingman for manon?? how did megan know manon’s gf wtfff 👀

“the all-rounder is just being silly, don’t listen to her dumb ass,” manon teases, but the warning glare she shoots the girl doesn’t go missed by you.

“no, tell them. that was my best friend, in the whole world,” megan doubles down. she’s still smiling, a self-satisfied grin, and you feel sick at the way she’s not letting up. “and now she’s your boo.”

manon simply stares at megan in disbelief. 

“what?” megan asks back, challengingly.

was? WAS? 🌝🌝 is there beef omfg so grateful to have a weverse subscription on this fine day 🧎🏻‍♀️

“next topic,” yoonchae smiles diplomatically, realizing the two are in a stand-off.

“anyways,” manon says quickly, but the damage is done. you know your girlfriend. you can see her jaw hardening.

and you know megan, unfortunately. the way she stares challengingly at manon, like a dare. they try to switch to a new topic, yoonchae’s most recent viral dance, but the damage is done. the comments are racing, and you can see the three mentally preparing for their managers to call them up, as you’re sure they will as soon as they catch wind of this. the chat is relentless.

manon looks pissed lmao pr training is chasing megan but megan is faster 😭 imma give reddit 12 hrs before we know who this QUEEN is that homie hopped 2/6 katseye members omg

you hear the pilot announce takeoff, and realize you’ll have to put your phone away. you swear under your breath and mentally prepare yourself for the flight, and everything that waits for you once you land.

you don’t see the screaming match that manon and megan get into immediately after the live. you miss the three phone calls that megan sends your way, and you don’t see the message that she sends, only to unsend an hour later, never to be read by your eyes:

sorry, y/n. i couldn’t keep lying. i think we should talk.

—

you land, and instead of seeing megan’s message, you see only her phone calls. manon has called you too, sending texts of screenshots of their furious PR team and their manager blowing up her phone. it’s late by the time you land in LA, and you know she’s probably asleep, so you send a quick text of reassurance to your girlfriend, and focus now on chewing out your best friend at the center of this mess.

what the fuck did you do

megan's reply comes back immediately. what is she doing up this late?

sorry sorry??? megan are you fucking joking sorry no not fucking sorry, be so fucking serious what was the point of that do you know the shitstorm you just stirred? just saw your location are you in LA? i was supposed to surprise manon but she may need a lot of support right now let me get you from the airport ? fine

she picks you up in her car and the two of you drive in silence, neither of you ready to confront the mess she’s put you in. you see your first instagram notification, a random katseye account requesting to follow you, and you suck in a deep breath as you realize the internet detectives are probably about to start digging you up.

you swear under your breath and put your instagram app on silent. megan hears you and exhales shakily.

“y/n,” she breathes, as if the world didn’t exist in turmoil around you.

“megan, what were you thinking?” you ask in disbelief, unable to even face her. what could her endgame possibly have been? what could she possibly have gotten out of that?

“i just think it’s stupid that she pretends you don’t exist,” she shrugs, slumping back into the driver’s seat.

“that’s our agreement,” you remind her, feeling your skin get increasingly hot the more frustrated you grow. “it’s better like that.”

“she doesn’t even act like she wants you sometimes.” megan shakes her head, eyes fixed on the road as she pulls in front of the katseye house. neither of you move to get out of the car, instead, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean to push closer into megan’s bubble, trying to emphasize your frustration with her as it doesn’t seem to be getting through to her.

“megan, you have no idea what our relationship looks like from the inside,” you point out angrily.

you and megan, in all your years of friendship, had never had a single fight. a disagreement here and there, sure, but you always were in sync enough to land on the same page for most of your opinions. what was the point of ever bickering if one of you was always willing to compromise? it was the foundation of your friendship, being able to keep the peace, and part of what made you guys so close. having your first real fight feels like a punch to the gut, but you had a feeling it was inevitable. your paths are so different now. your first fight feels something like the beginning of the end.

“does she even love you?” megan presses on, her face tensing, her grip on the steering wheel tightening even though the car has been off for a few minutes at this point. “she’s always hiding you.”

“she does love me, and she hides me because i’m the one who fucking wants to be hidden,” you tell her, angry to be defending yourself against her at this point when she’s too stubborn to hear anything you’re saying.

you two are equally amped up at this point, both of you leaning over the center console to get in the other’s face. your voices are both raising, and you see the way megan’s neck vein tenses as she scowls at your words. your faces are only a foot or so apart, and you can feel the breath from each of her words, punctuating her frustration.

“i loved you, and i didn’t want to hide you,” she argues, but you shake your head and scoff.

“that’s different, and you know it is, megan.”

“not for me, it wasn’t.” megan says, her voice dropping, and it clicks for you. you realize what she means, your eyes meeting, something heavy in her gaze. you feel your chest tighten at the implication, but it’s too much to open that box right now.

“stop it, i don’t want to hear that,” you shake your head, feeling your face get even redder. you’re angry, you’re confused, and your heart is aching— why is she doing this to you, now of all times? “you’ve made a mess out of everything, megan. do you know how stressed out manon is?”

“no, i did love you,” she insists, if she didn’t hear anything else you just said. she leans in closer, and you pull back, nearly wincing. 

“megan,” you breathe in disbelief, feeling it all come over you like a nightmare. “not fucking funny.”

“i would have been proud to be yours,” megan musters up the courage to admit, her face hard but determined, her eyes watery, her voice shaking. “i’m sorry i wasn’t good enough.”

you feel the back of your throat burn, your mouth going dry. not once did you possibly dream of a day where megan would confess something like this, would ever cross this line with you. she had always just been megan, your best friend, always there, as she had been from the start. you never let yourself consider anything more. 

“megan,” you warn her, your voice low, clenching your jaw so tightly, your bones hurt. “what the hell am i supposed to do with that?”

“that’s not my problem,” megan echoes, her voice cold and harsh, and you realize she’s referring to her question all those months ago, on your picnic, when she had first expressed fear about manon falling in love with you and it ruining everything. not once in a million years did you think it could be megan that fell in love with you, and even less, not once did you ever think it could be megan to ruin your friendship.

“this is why we didn’t end up together,” you blurt, feeling your eyes prick with hot tears that you try desperately to fight back. your stomach is in knots and at this point, you’ll say anything to escape this discomfort— even if it means hurting megan in the process. “you’re immature, selfish, you don’t think. impulsive.”

“i loved you,” megan says back firmly, grimacing at your words, but steady in her resolve to get it out. she repeats it like she’s trying to scrape the last of it out of her lungs, like she’s coughing up water and trying to clear it out. 

“there’s no world where you and i end up together,” you bite back, “get that through your head.”

“there doesn’t have to be,” megan pushes back, her lip quivering. “but i’m not gonna let you lie about everything. i tried.”

“this was selfish,” you hiss, but your heart thuds at the sight of her. you try to keep your rage at the forefront to protect your own tender heart from the confusion of feelings swirling up in your chest. “that’s why we stopped being friends.”

“i loved you,” she repeats, even if it’s only to say it out loud, for the sky, for the moon to bear witness, sounding defeated and triumphant all at once. “and i’m sorry for ruining everything.”

“you did ruin everything,” you blink, realizing there’s no reality where you guys can recover from this. there’s no reality where manon forgives megan entirely, there’s no reality where you can just forget megan’s confession, there’s no reality where you can take back all the cruel things escaping from your lips.

megan’s eyes meet yours, and it’s as if she’s realizing it at the exact same time. things will never be the same.

“can i kiss you?” she blurts out, reaching out a hand towards your face.

“megan,” you say sharply in complete disbelief, swatting her hand away.

“you know why you and manon are even dating?” she snaps, without missing a beat, as if she were prepared for the rejection. “because the night before your first date, i stayed up all night telling manon every single thing you like, exactly how you are, exactly how you get, exactly what she should do.”

you stare at her in complete and utter shock. that first date had been one of your most cherished memories, and you felt like you were walking on clouds the whole time. dates afterwards had never quite compared to that first one, but you figured it was just how relationships go. you could have never considered the fact that someone had put that much effort into making sure it went that perfectly, intentionally, and it makes your throat burn to think that it was actually megan behind it all, not manon. not the girl you’re currently dating.

“no way,” you shake your head, your tears making your vision blurry. “she—”

“did everything right that night because i coached her every step of the way,” megan cuts you off, her voice low and sharp. “you only love her now, ‘cause i loved you first.”

your jaw drops in disbelief, but megan isn’t done. the words spill out of her.

“and maybe i’m a little angry, ‘cause you could have loved me,” she says, her voice shaky, but something in her seems lighter, like each time she says it, she can breathe easier. “but i loved you, y/n, and that was real, even if i’m grieving you now. i loved you, y/n.”

you’ve heard enough, more than enough. you grab your bag and hurriedly race out of the car. you’re not sure you can handle much more. “get out of my face, megan.”

and she lets you. you race to the door and pray manon is awake to let you in. megan drives off, disappearing into the night. you feel yourself hold in what’s left of your tears, bidding goodbye to the friendship that had once meant the world to you.

what you don’t see is the deep breath she lets out. the weight is finally off her shoulders.

[naturesapphic]

Please can we get a part 2 for Breed Me

Breed Me pt. 2

G!p!Billie Eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: Billie has a penis, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort

Part one here

The pregnancy test was in your shaking hands, looking up at you with two lines in the middle. Your breathing started to pick up as realization dawned on you. You are gonna be a mom. How are you gonna tell your wife? Is she gonna be happy? Mad? Upset? Question after question was swirling your mind and it was interrupted as you heard footsteps coming up the stairs, almost making you drop the stick on the bathroom floor.

A knock was heard on the door a few moments later and you thought you were going to vomit. “Babygirl? You okay in there?” Your wife asked you and you quickly bent over and grabbed the stick and put it on the counter. “Y-yeah! I-I’m fine…” you said hoarsely and Billie slowly opened the door to see your red face and a pregnant stick near you. “Is that…?” She said with shock and you whimpered out a yes and you thought billie was gonna lose her shit.

“NO WAY NO WAY! WE ARE GONNA HAVE A BABY!” She screamed in excitement and she started jumping up and down, basically doing Fortnite emotes. “HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT IM GONNA FUCKING SHIT MY PANTS!” She yelled as she went over to you and picked you up and bounced you up and down with her. “Oh my God Billie stop! I’m gonna puke!” You said, holding your stomach and Billie puts you down immediately, apologizing profusely.

“Oops baby. Hehe just got too excited I guess.” She said cheekily. “So…you aren’t mad at me?” You said quietly and Billie rolled her eyes playfully and placed her hands on your stomach in a loving gesture. “I could never be mad at you. Plus if I didn’t want to have a baby I wouldn’t have agreed to put a baby in you.” She smirked and you felt yourself blush at her comment. Billie slowly moves her hands down your body from your stomach and leans down to place kisses on your neck.

You closed your eyes at the sensation she was leaving on your neck and she slowly went down on her knees, her eyes never leaving yours. She slowly took off your shorts and panties that you were wearing and put her nose near your warm cunt and inhaled. “You smell so good…I bet you taste better than you smell…” she confessed and you tried to hide your face somehow but you realized you couldn’t and got even more flustered. “Tsk tsk…you can’t hide from me baby.” She said and you look away from her eyes and she slapped your ass.

“Eyes down here babydoll. Keep your eyes on me.” She demanded and you nodded quickly, not wanting to further disobey her. Billie started leaving teasing kisses all over your thighs and the inside of them, making your breath quicken. After a few minutes of Billie slowly torturing you, she finally started kissing your sticky messy cunt that made you close your eyes tight. You reached down to her hair and gently pulled on it, making Billie moan into you, causing intense vibrations on your clit.

“F-fuck…b-bils I need y-you…” you beg her and she smiles up at you with her beautiful blue ocean eyes that you adore. “Don’t worry mama…gonna take good care of my girl.” She said and you moaned at her words making her giggle. She slowly runs her tongue through your folds and you quietly moaned, feeling her tongue all in between your folds, wanting to make you feel good. Billie is addicted to your pussy and she loves eating you out, it gives her more pleasure than you think. She flicks your clit a few times then glides her tongue around it like a talented figure skater.

Moments go by and you feel her tongue glide down near your throbbing hole and she gently pushes her tongue in, making you moan out. You throw your head back as feel her tongue explore every crevice of your walls, making your legs shake. Every thrust she did, you swore you were seeing stars. Billie was ravishing you and was moaning into you like she was having the best meal ever, which to her she was. After a few more thrusts, your thighs were shaking and you couldn’t hold back.

“B-bills! N-need to cum!” You moaned out and Billie tapped your thigh twice to give you the okay to release. It wasn’t long after and you were cumming into her mouth. Billie was eagerly lapping you up, trying to get all your juices and cum into her mouth. After she was satisfied, your legs were shaking uncontrollably and she had to pick you up and sit you down on the bed as she starts her aftercare for you. “You okay mamas?” She asked and you nodded, still out of it from the orgasm she just gave you. “Y-yeah…just sensitive…” you replied and she nodded.

After the aftercare, the two of you laid in the bed, holding each other tightly. Billie rested her hand on your stomach, slightly trying to feel a bump or anything which caused you to smile at how cute she was being. “We are going to be mommy’s.” You quietly said and Billie broke out into a huge grin. “I know. I’m so excited. I love you to the moon and back my sweet love.” Billie said and you felt your cheeks heat up drastically and you hid your face in her chest, making her giggle. The two of you couldn’t wait to become parents.

A/n: thank you anon and to everyone for this request! I hope y’all enjoyed! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! Happy Saturday.

[lun3st0nez]

NINJAGO ROYAL AU (Fated Royalty AU)

Ok so i had this idea a while ago, cuz of some discussion about why Harumi is considered royalty while Lloyd isnt, so i made this AU!

The AU explained under the cut ↓ (fanfic style cuz why not)

In this AU, the FSM family are considered royalty, with the eldest son (Garmadon) being the king. The youngest(Wu) was to be chosen king cause his brother is well.. evil.. but he chose not to, preferring to become a ninja master, disappearing without a trace. And so, without a choice, they had to crown Garmadon as king.

Many years later, the king and queen(Misako) had a son(Lloyd). One who was prophesied to be the savior of all. BUT due to the paranoia they had, fear was telling them that he'll end up like his father if he went this path. And so, they chose to isolate and protect him from any harm.

The poor young prince grew up without any friends, all alone. On the day of his 8th birthday, the monarchs decided to hire some puny children of common blacksmiths to become his personal guards. Fire and water. The prince quickly got attached to both of them, seeing it as a chance to make his first friends. The eldest tried to take his job seriously, not allowing the prince into his heart but the youngest had her heart melted, becoming the prince's first friend. As time went on, the trio became closer and closer to each other, with the eldest finally warming up to the prince, with a secret that made them closer, one that made them call eachother "brother".

In the meanwhile, the king has been hiring multiple talented young people, ones with a lot of potential. An inventor that came from the trash, a strange boy with the wisdom of an old man and a strong fighter who quickly climbed the ranks to the top. Lightning, ice and earth.

Nobody knows how these boys got the prince's attention and became his friends; but one thing is clear: from the day they met, they were inseparable.

They were all happy! Or so, thats what everyone thought. The prince hated his status and his life. Dont get him wrong: he loved his friends and would even sacrifice his life for them, but the extreme isolation made him quite.. depressed. He yearned for freedom; for a life of adventure. The halls of the castle started to feel more like a prison than a home. He thought there was no escape.. until.. a strange letter showed up, with an address up in the mountains. His parents were gone for the week so his curiosity got the best of him. He arrived and it was a... Monastery...? And he wasnt the only one there... There was Kai with Nya, in the same familiar armour they've always worn. There was also Cole and Jay, bickering, with a Zane that tried to stop them. Then there was his uncle: Master Wu. He thought he disappeared? Did his parents lie to him? It was possible.

What was this all about? The prophecy. They had to become ninja. It was, of course, their choice as Master Wu stated. What did they do? Become ninja of course! In secret... As if the king and queen found out, there would never be a chance of freedom ever again. It was what all of them yearned for, after all.

So, a double life it was. One as a prince, and the other as a ninja.

(all the villains they face in canon are also canon here, and in this AU they have 0 idea what the identity of the ninja are, except for one....)

I hope this made sense 😅

If you have any questions, feel free to ask me! My inbox is always open :3

Also im working rn on other 2 aus: Timeless future (NINJAGO) and an Undertale one

LUNA OUTT

[hana-recs]

VIV WHEN I CATCH YOU. i've always been a little too scared to read this because it just looked like it would tear me up on the inside. however today i committed and can confirm: i will never ever ever be the same.

i think this is and will always be one of the best fics i've ever had the honour of reading. viv, you have a talent that brings your readers to life: breathing trembling things that burn their way into your mind forever.

^ "love of seungkwan's life" being a defining characteristic struck me so hard on the second read through. it's so simply stated and i think that makes it all the more powerful.

^ IMAGERY GOES CRAZY. these lines feel like a memory forming in real-time. there's a softness and a warmth and a haziness to them that show us, already, that they have their own world. a shift from habit to affection so deep it overwhelms.

^ the undercurrent of hope!!!! the UNDERCURRENT OF HOPE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

genuinely i think time stopped moving when i read this part. the realistic awkward touch of the camera bag!!! the last line in particular. im going to throw myself off a cliff GOODBYE FOREVER! this entire fic reminds me SO MUCH of below excerpt from george sand's letter to gustave flaubert. (full collection found here, i have not read it all LMAO, but this one is specifically 27 june 1870)

^ GOODBYE. i love the way this line kind of just slips in. the same way it slips out of seungkwan's mouth -- it's so natural. he doesn't say it to be heard it's literally a thought SO full of tenderness it barely makes it past his lips.

^ they are so in LOVE. no matter what, they remain so in love.

^ i think this part really hits on how memory and loss live side by side. and it's SO worth noting the way you weave time and memory together -- it's stunning. nothing’s linear, yet it all makes sense, and all the foreshadowing and all of the fragments falling into place as the story unfolds is both satisfying but Painful. the soil metaphor too... it’s almost easier for seungkwan to focus on that harshness than the ache of being alone. the contrast with the next cut being to the WEDDING i cannot do this goodbye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

^ excuse the colour change i did not realise while writing. BUT. the way you write here is so poetic without ever feeling forced or overdone. it's such a beautiful metaphor for how memory works --not as a clear, sharp thing, but as ghosts, soft and a little mysterious. the past is both vivid and blurry at the same time, so full of warmth but also unreachable, and that makes it HURTTTT. and the cabinet filled in his dreams with infinities..... who told you this was OKAY. it’s such a beautiful painful contrast between the finality forced on them and endless possibility of what they could have hadjlhgodfhg

(😂🔫) i knew it was coming the first time, and i definitely knew it was coming the second time. it doesn't make a difference. the emotion your words evoke is overwhelming.

the writing is delicate but full of rawness -- there’s a softness to it even in such a devastating scene (the SD CARDGHIDOFGI;D), but it’s also sharp, and it cuts straight through you. like a knife. or multiple knives. at once. i hate you im crying again

first of all im never forgiving u for this i think my heart was just ripped out of my chest. second of all your exploration of grief and memory is so stunning and so skilled. the memory of someone not just as a collection of facts or images, but as a living presence shaped by how we hold them in memory and how we remmeber them aloud to those around us. JSVL;UFL.HLVD;B IM IN SO MUCH PAAAIN there's so much hesitation and quiet honesty in the dialogue and it feels so genuine im breaking down sorry . anyway

"you are in a unique position to dictate how someone is to be remembered" -- it’s such a delicate burden. the writing doesn’t flinch from that responsibility. "so, so much loss." just four words, but you feel them like a punch. many punches.

THE NOISE I MAD WHEN I FIRST READ THIS VIVVVVVVVV. im wailing btw. this is one of my favourite poems ever and i just. my brain rebooted i dont have words. this poem is already laced with this idea of ephemeral fleeting beauty and like. inevitable tragedy. it fits so seamlessly. SO seamlessly.

so ive just cried my eyes out for about half an hour.

viv you have so much talent im staggering under the weight of what i just read but in the best way possible. the way you use memory like a medium, by layering past and present is so clever, so well done and so so heartwrenchingly beautiful. and the CAMERA. it's such a good tool to power the whole story onwards. it’s like love itself guides the lens, making every smile and every look and every cut proof that this person was here, real and deeply known. it just adds so many layers to the story, give us so much of a glimpse into the people you've created -- because they don't feel like characters, they feel like real living breathing things in front of me, and you've conjured a love between them that is bone-deep.

and GRIEF. (my god am i grieving.) you don’t just tell us seungkwan’s grief; you let us feel it. and even if you know what's going to happen, it doesn't stop it from taking your breath away. grief isn’t loud here --but a constant hum in the background of everything, always there, always present. in everything: the tenderness of a hand placed over a pocket. the way the camera lingers, not just on faces, but on the space between them, the places they've been. and in those D+ excerpts, you can viscerally feel the absence growing larger than the frame can hold.

he carries the grief. he holds in careful hands: memory folding into muscle memory. and it's so accurate to how grief truly is. you walk with it. you carry it like seungkwan does: in your breath, in your bones. it leaves you wrecked, but never empty.

the call back to the two-headed calf at the end feels like a thread pulling everything together, so so gently. that's the part that made me cry the most. it's the kind of poem that understands exactly what this fic understands: that brief, beautiful lives are not diminished by their brevity. that something can be strange and sad and still full of love.

something in the orange

summary. remembrance is also reconstruction. reconstruction presupposes loss. a meditation on memory, narrative, and grief. and, of course, love. pairing. boo seungkwan x gn!reader genre/tags. ANGST, (semi-graphic) major character death, interstellar au-ish (just the blight), non-linear narrative, blurred fiction and reality if you squint (sorry I reread goodbye eri while writing), unbeta’d (mistakes are my own) wc. 5k suggested listening. love wins all, iu // 消費期限, seventeen // triassic love song, paris paloma // eight, iu prod. & ft. suga // yawn, seventeen // something in the orange, zach bryan (or niall's cover)

notes. midnight in korea now; happy birthday Seungkwannie! this is very experimental, and admittedly i'm not fully satisfied w it, but I didn't know how to change it atp. sorry boo, it's your birthday but i give you pain. as always, reblogs are appreciated and come say hi if you're so inclined 🫶🏼

D-17 EXT. SEOUL TRAIN STATION – KOREA – DAWN The sun rises over the ruins of Seoul Station. The air is clear of smoke and fog. A shot of the sun peeking over the heap of steel, glass, and cement that once served as the station’s framing. The train tracks run to the far horizon, to the left and right of the frame. Pan to YOU (young-looking though age is ambiguous, former writer, love of SEUNGKWAN’S life) squinting at an old, battered map of Korea’s train lines, and a compass. You’re wearing battered jeans that are slightly too big, boots, and a sturdy leather jacket. Behind the camera, SEUNGKWAN (male, young-sounding though age is ambiguous, former video producer) narrates.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         BOO-log number 529. We’re now figuring out how to get to Mokpo. Neither of us are any good with directions, but my partner decided that we could try following train lines since the none of them are running anyway. You look up at the sound of his voice, noticing the camera.

                YOU             (exasperated, but fond)         Kwan-ah, are you filming again? We have 30 batteries, but not all of them might be working. You might need to save battery and memory if you want to video the view of Jeju Island.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         It’s okay, I really just wanted to record us before we start. Once we’re walking, I won’t use the camera as much. And I have twenty other SD Cards!                 YOU             (not surprised)         Okay, we’ll definitely figure something out for the batteries, then.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Yeah. Now— Seungkwan’s voice changes to a more formal tone, as though he were imitating a newscaster.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S., CONT’D)         What are your thoughts as we start our newest adventure? The camera catches your grin. You follow along, changing your tone to an impression of those backpackers in TV documentaries.                  YOU         Um, I’m excited to see Jeju-do, even from afar, because it’s part of Seungkwannie, and we had our honeymoon there. As long as we’re careful, I know we can do it. If we’re lucky, we may even find someone who can bring us across. Beat. You look ever so slightly awkward in front of the camera.                 YOU (CONT’D) Wait, here, give me the camera. I’ll record you this time. The footage shakes, briefly showing a tiled floor, then train tracks, before panning to a blurry face. The camera shakes for a moment before the image comes into focus, revealing a beautiful young man with dark hair. Seungkwan does a better job at the “interviewer voice”, but you’re no slouch either.                 YOU (O.S., CONT’D)         So, Seungkwan-ssi, what are your thoughts as we embark on a new adventure?                 SEUNGKWAN             (genuine)         I think it’s about to be wonderful.

D–2183

When the Blight started, both you and Seungkwan were in high school. Though only having known you since that start of your third year, you’ve quickly wormed his way into his life—visiting his house, having dinners with your family, and he even managed to force you into joining the badminton club with him.

Bees now officially extinct, the news proclaims, an effect of the ravaging of nearly all plant life. Asia in particular has suffered; the widespread rice shortages due to it becoming impossible to grow resulted in widespread famine. The extinction of plants used for feed, made food prices across the board skyrocket. Corn, it seems, is the only crop that can resist the Blight—and the rest of the world now has to adjust its staple food to mimic the old Americas.

“Seungkwan.” You prod his ribs.

“Mm?”

“What would you do if the world ends tomorrow?”

“Marry you.” You laugh, until you realize he isn’t joking.

“What?” Your voice pitches to an incredulous squeak.

“Marry you,” he repeats.

“Why, though?”

“I always wanted to get married,” Seungkwan replies, after a moment of pondering. “And if the world ends tomorrow, as of today you’d be my best candidate for marriage.” 

For a moment, you just look at him, eyes tracing over his features. Your steady gaze makes him shift, uncomfortable, wondering if he said something wrong. Eventually, you shrug, though there’s a twinkle in your eye as you quirk a smile at him.

“While I don’t support shotgun marriages, I’d make an exception for you and the end of the world.”

His breath catches, heart stuttering as he tries to parse your answer in his head. “Wha—you—”

“Come on, Seungkwan, don’t dish it if you can’t take it,” you groan, flopping sideways to plop your head against the armrest. Your legs tilt as you do, your foot brushing against his calf. He tries not to jolt at the contact.

“I’m sorry!” He pouts, trying to calm the uneven fluttering of his heart. You laugh, shifting your lean in the opposite direction, so your head lands on his lap. Despite having done it a thousand times before, he traces softly the way your hair falls, admiring the way its color contrasts with the color of his pants.

(Looking back, he’ll think about how that day changed things, even just by a little bit; how his gazes grew longer, noticing more how the sunsets glowed against your face as you walked home together every day, painting you golden. How you’d both gotten used to creative ways of shelter when mild dust storms come, thanking your luck each time that you had gotten home before it truly began.

He’ll think about how, a year from that day, he kissed you as he walked you home for the last time before you enter your separate colleges, swallowing the teasing took you long enough from your lips as he finished his shaky confession. 

He’ll think of how you exchanged second buttons like those characters from that anime you liked did, and the quiet promises to make things work even as the world seems to turn more barren than both of you can follow.

He’ll think of how three years from then, he gets on one knee, to your tearful yes and salty kisses. Your small marriage, with just your families, batchmates, and some professors, followed by a beautiful honeymoon in Jeju. Despite it all.

None of these decisions had anything to do with the end of the world, but you and Seungkwan made them, nonetheless.)

D-9 INT. A TENT – A TRAIN STATION SOMEWHERE BETWEEN SEOUL AND MOKPO – NIGHT The footage is grainy due to the lack of proper lighting; the camera shakes as Seungkwan seems to be trying to balance it on something. The tent is quite cramped; the inside is sparse, with only two sleeping bags and your knapsacks—Seungkwan’s with two camping pans attached with a carabiner.  The leather jacket you were wearing is now resting on one of the bags. You have both swapped your sturdy day pants for more comfortable, albeit worn, sweatpants. Out of context, it looks like a vlog filmed by two campers on a hike. The camera steadies as Seungkwan moves away. He moves to sit beside you. There is an easy intimacy as you thread your fingers together, almost mindlessly.                 SEUNGKWAN         BOO-log number 531. We passed by a sign that said Nonsan. That means we’re probably halfway there.                 YOU         We made progress better than expected, didn’t we? I estimated at least two weeks.                 SEUNGKWAN             (nodding, excited)         I thought the train tracks would have been ruined, since the stations are, but they’re surprisingly reliable.                 YOU         It’s true; of course there were times when we had to find our way around the tracks, or climb above anything that fell down over it, or go through some cornfields, but mostly, it seems we’ve been lucky.                 SEUNGKWAN         By the way—everyone, it looks like we’re in a tent in the middle of nowhere, doesn’t it? Don’t be fooled, we set this up in a convenience store.                 YOU             (laughing)         You ruined it! Now we can’t be funky backpackers with a tent on the train tracks.                 SEUNGKWAN             (playfully lecturing)         It’s good to be truthful, you know. What if kids watch this someday? We have to be good moral people.                 YOU             (with the remnants of a laugh)         Okay, okay. We set this up in the Seven Eleven inside one of the train stations. Abandoned, obviously. We made it in right before the dust storm hit.                 SEUNGKWAN         Another good news today is that we managed to barter something for food.                 YOU         Yeah. This one engineer or something—I think he’s a veteran? But we saw him tinkering on his porch and offered a trade, his corn for our cables, and now we have dinner.                 SEUNGKWAN             (joking)         It’s not jokbal, but it’ll do, I suppose.                 YOU             (groaning)         Oh my God, what I’d give for some jokbal right now. With bossam. And soju. SEUNGKWAN         I’ll be dreaming of that tonight.                 YOU         Anyway, everyone, we’ll end the log here, so we have enough batteries for a nice long BOO-log at Mokpo. Both you and Seungkwan wave your corn (dinner) at the camera. You reach forward, covering the lens with your palm. The clip ends.

D–20

Seungkwan walks around the house. He’s doing his last checks, checking between what’s in his bag and what’s in the rooms to parse if he’s missed anything—batteries, your wallets, matches, passports, birth certificates, first aid kit, water bottles, toothbrushes, all the canned food in the pantry, the sturdiest kitchen knife you both owned (wrapped in two layers of cloth), the Swiss knife he was gifted a few years back, flashlights, a whistle, and all the carabiners and hard cash you had were already packed.

He finds you in your shared bedroom. There are a bunch of wires there, evidently cut from various appliances. You’ve wrapped the cables as neatly as you could manage. On the bed, you’ve laid all your dry-fit shirts and the sturdiest pairs of pants you both have. Then, from the dresser, you’ve collected the most expensive jewelry the both of you own—well, all of them, but you separated the expensive ones in another pile. He points to the latter.

“What’s that for?”

“If cash fails, maybe gold won’t. I don’t know, just in case the currency collapses. But they’re worth bringing all the same.” Also, you hold out copies of both your health insurances. He opens his knapsack and quickly stuffs them in the same place as your other documents.

“Last resort kindling?” Seungkwan offers, showing the cluster of documents in his compartment. The remark draws a quick breath of a laugh from you.

“Probably.”

“How about the wires?”

“You never know when we’ll need some emergency engineer bullshit; plus, if it comes to it, the wires will probably be better barter material. Before you ask,” you hold up one hand, “I edited a zombie novel a few years back. But if that kid was pulling out of his ass, we’re fucked.”

Despite your disclaimer, the no-nonsense, matter-of-fact way you’re handling the situation makes something settle in him, as though all he needed was an anchor amid the chaos. He pulls you close, placing a kiss to your temple. The tension in your body melts as you press against him. For a moment, Seungkwan just holds you. A temporary anchor before you need to move.

Turning to him, you offer a quick peck to his lips before holding up his trusted camera bag, worn as it is. “Bring it,” you tell him firmly. “We need a little bit of happiness. Get all the SD cards you have, too. In case we just never leave Mokpo. It’s small enough to stuff in our pockets.”

Seungkwan can’t help it; he grabs your face and kisses you. The camera bag sits between you awkwardly, but he doesn’t care. He savors this, the familiar taste of it, the contours of your face that his hands have long since memorized. You pull away, but not before kissing his lips again, then his nose. He’ll never quite get used to the way you look at him, as though there is something new to love each time.

“We’re gonna be okay, my heart.”

D-4 EXT – A LONG STRETCH OF BEACH – MOKPO, SOUTH KOREA – SUNSET The camera captures a breathtaking sunset. The sky is a wash of oranges and pinks, the clouds purple yet lined in the light of the sun. Mokpo is on the southwest side of Korea; the view of the sunset is particularly beautiful, as the sun sinks down into the sea. There are faint silhouettes of islands both near and far from the shore. The waters are tranquil, and there are no sounds except for the steady wash of the waves on the shore.

The shot slowly pans to you. Your expression is tranquil, despite the dirt and tears across your clothes.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)             (soft, so soft you don’t hear)         Pretty.  ��              YOU             (clueless)         Hm?                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Nothing. Can you see Jeju Island from here?

He already knows where it is.                 YOU             (laughing softly, a little sad)         To be honest, I don’t know which piece of land I’m seeing is Jeju. A finger appears at the edge of the screen.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         There, that’s Jeju. Right behind the blob that looks like a hat.                 YOU             (squinting)         Oh! Right, that’s what it looks like. Beat.                 YOU (CONT’D) The view is beautiful. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the sea. Seungkwan hums the opening to Tears of Mokpo. You don’t recognize it until he softly begins to sing the opening lyrics.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)             (singing)         사공의 뱃노래 가물거리면…                 YOU             (laughing outright)         That doesn’t have anything to do with Jeju! He sings louder just to spite you. You playfully roll your eyes. Bending down, you unlace your boots and take off your socks, sinking your bare feet into the sand with barely-concealed relish. Seungkwan stops singing as he knows what you’re about to do.                 SEUNGKWAN         Careful; don’t step on anything sharp. As you move forward, the camera follows you. It is revealed that the beach is not so picturesque. The sea seems to have dried up some, and even here, bits and bobs of life float on the surface and linger in the sand.

There are the usual culprits: plastic bags, empty cans of alcohol and soda, and snack wrappers. Yet visible also on the camera are the following: bullet shells, shrapnel, a chair leg, a ragged pillow, and a cracked desktop monitor. As all this is visible, the camera centers on you laughing, splashing in the saltwater and enjoying the breeze in your hair.                 YOU             (calling; audio faint)         Seungkwannie! Come here! A beat. The camera zooms in on your face.                 YOU         Kwan-ah, come on! Hurry up!                 SEUNGKWAN             (proximity makes his voice loud)         Okay! A rustle. The camera is laid down, cloth (Seungkwan’s jacket) obscuring part of the footage. After a nudge, the cloth disappears from frame. Another figure, barefoot, joins you.

D–119

Jeju has officially been declared abandoned, lost for some other country to use as farmland. The radio announced the treaty ratification today. Seungkwan is a spectre around the house, listless and heartbroken. 

Months ago, when the conflict began to escalate in earnest, he began whatever arrangements he could to ensure his family was safe, moving them as near to the farming areas as he could manage and encouraging them to share whatever techniques they knew could help former cities now learning how to farm. The news does not make the sharp pang of grief dull any less.

He is at the age when he is to receive a conscription notice; Korea has since shifted its system to split soldiers into those who will either fight on the front lines of the Resource Wars, or serve by tilling the land and ensuring that there is enough corn for the population, however dwindling. There is no guarantee on which one he is to get, even if he did register himself as head of household (and should hypothetically be assigned the latter), but he is due to receive news in a few months’ time.

The promise of the notice hangs over both your heads. In the mornings, you spend ten more minutes just looking at him, as though you were memorizing the shapes and contours of his features. At night, he curls into you more tightly than before; once you’d have complained that it was too hot, now, you simply wrap your arms around him and let him sink his face into your hair.

“Hey, Seungkwannie.”

“Mm?”

“Let’s go on a trip.” The hand mindlessly running through your hair falters. 

He pulls away, looking at you with a furrowed brow. You keep your head low, pressed against his chest. “What?”

“Let’s go south. Yeosu, Mokpo, whatever, just near the beach, as close as possible to Jeju. Just…just see it, even from afar.” At his silence, you barrel on. “If we walk enough, we can make it in two weeks—a week if we can hitch a ride with one of those crop trucks or something—and then just another two weeks back, if we don’t settle in Mokpo outright.” 

“Food—”

“I can pack us as much as I can. We’ll need to ration, and possibly trade, but we can do it. The treaty is in place, and it’s most dangerous up north right now. Going south isn’t as big of a risk, and the weather has been looking good lately.” Finally looking up, you cup his cheek, tracing the skin with your thumb. He presses his lips to your wrist.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, my heart. I just thought you might want to say goodbye.”

“I…” he falters. It’s tempting. Unbearably so, despite the nagging at the back of his head that it would be better to leave it at that, keep his memory limited to the days you spent there dodging dust storms and falling in love. He doesn’t know how much it’s changed. How much the ocean might have even dried up. He doesn’t know if he can stomach to see it. “Give me a few days to think about it?”

“Of course. All the time you need.”

D+29

Seungkwan’s life has been demarcated into two. Before, and after. He goes through the motions of the government-run fields: waking up, clocking in, eating breakfast, tilling the soil, weeding, lunch, the occasional drills in case they were still expected to fight, transporting corn from one warehouse to another, dinner, sleep. Repeat.

Not a lot of people are here; many prefer to till fields they own, or collectively own; for once, agrarian reform straightened itself out at the start of the Blight. Yet with the dwindling population—slowly withering family trees—those lands acquired by the government grew.

Sometimes, Seungkwan thinks of home. He was lucky enough that the head of the center, Seungcheol, was kind enough to register his name as part of the deployed cadets under his supervision, despite the incomplete paperwork he had when he stumbled into his field, frail and dehydrated from lack of food and water.

Home remains now only in his memory, and in every replay of the Christmases he captured on camera. The soil is more unforgiving than before; it distracts from the loneliness.

EXT. A SMALL FIELD, WEDDING VENUE – DAY The wedding is humbly decorated with dried corn leaves fashioned into flowers, as there are no real ones anymore (none within the budget, anyway). Guests came as they are, though everyone has made an effort to clean up more than usual. It is currently the reception, and the speakers are playing a quick beat. The guests are dancing, laughing, and cheering, though their movements are blurry and almost smeared onscreen (step-printing effect). In the middle of it, you stand, the only still figure in the frame. You’re smiling softly to someone behind the camera, very clearly in love. Cut to Seungkwan, in a similar position, the guests around him dancing as but blurs. He is wearing a similar expression. He begins to walk forward.

You meet in the middle, still the only clear figures on-camera, and begin to dance.  As though the dance were a spell, the surroundings cut to: INT. A MEDIUM-SIZED LIVING ROOM – NIGHT EXT. SEOUL STATION, IN RUINS – DAY INT. YOUR TENT (MAGICALLY ENLARGED) – NIGHT EXT. LONG STRETCH OF BEACH (UNPOLLUTED) – MOKPO – SUNSET Hold this image for a moment. The sea laps at your ankles. The bottom of both your garments brushes against the saltwater, but neither of you seem to notice. Both you and Seungkwan close the gap to meet in a tender kiss. Suddenly, cheers. You part, and are back to: EXT. A SMALL FIELD, WEDDING VENUE – DAY The newly-married couple smiles and waves. The bottoms of their garments are damp.

D+167

It seems surreal to have all the batteries he wants, and even a computer where he can replay all his footage—more than 4000 hours’ worth of it. It took a few months of work to earn enough credits and rank to access it, but Seungkwan pursued the goal with single-minded purpose. There is enough electricity in this center to run a few computers, and Seungkwan is its most regular customer, painstakingly going through each clip on the dozens of SD cards he has.

For footage so far back, from when you had just been married, there are parts where he no longer remembers what happened after the clips end. They remain in his memory as but colored ghosts, warm-tinged with nostalgia. Cabinets that would never be opened again, now filled, in his dreams, with infinities.

The house of his memories blurs with the house of his oneirism. In both, he subsists on sleep and daydreams. But memory will betray; it won’t tell him if the house he remembers has been altered by each remembrance. So he watches his videos. He walks through his house, now only alive in film and reconstructed by memory. He sees himself and he sees you, in all the different iterations you both were. Wonders if he could stitch both into narrative. Wonders if he could even bear to cut any scenes. He’s never thought about the violence of that act until now.

Inventories do not just catalogue possession; they also measure the potential of loss. It was a quote from one of your writing workshops, discussed over a late dinner. You could still afford some meat then; Seungkwan had saved just enough for a small slab of cured pork, which you would cut tiny pieces from for both of you to enjoy before bed.

He has five minutes left of his designated slot with the computer.

Seungkwan watches, and he catalogues.

D=0

Seungkwan only remembers in flashes—a gunshot. A scream. It’s only when he replays that moment in his mind that he realizes it was his voice. Barely a thud as your body is cushioned by the corn leaves. Dark red liquid, somehow both grainy and slippery on his hands as he drags you into the thick of the field, away from the path, trying desperately to stem the blood while minimizing your trail. Until finally, he collapses, feet unable to bring him a step further.

More flashes—your eyes, only ever kind. Even at your last moments. The way you hold his hand and place it over the pocket you keep his SD cards, as though reminding him one last time. The way your eyes search his face, first desperate, and then resigned. The way he leaned in when you opened your mouth, to hear your final words, only to feel the ghost of chapped lips brush against his ear. The gush of blood that dribbles past your mouth that tells him you’re gone.

(The Resource Wars felt like more a backdrop than anything else; you had come this far without any altercation. Yet even as you screamed that you were not thieves, just travellers, the gunshot rang. 

The cornfields weep with him as he leaves you behind, SD cards clutched in his bloody hand.)

D–4

TIME CUT TO: It is twilight, now. The camera is trained on the horizon. The sun has fully set, and night is beginning to settle in the sky. Only the barest hints of orange remain. The footage has already become slightly grainy due to the lighting. Neither you nor Seungkwan are on the camera. Instead, voices are heard while the darkness arrives. It is not evident whether the footage was taken accidentally, or on purpose.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)             (softly)         I’m glad we came. Really, even if we couldn’t get to Jeju. I’m glad. I’m glad it’s with you.                 YOU (O.S.)             (just as softly)         I’m glad too, my heart. You filmed the whole sunset, didn’t you? Start to finish?                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Yeah. Yesterday and today. I have so much footage that I don’t know what to do with.

Breath.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S., CONT’D)         Actually, that goes for all the BOO-logs. Even the ones from high school and college.                 YOU (O.S.)             (surprised)         You never tried editing them?                  SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         I have, but what then? There are hardly any theaters now. Nowhere else to post. And electricity is expensive.                 YOU (O.S.)         Okay, but if we both die, what do you think’s gonna happen to this camera? Seungkwan is many things; a prideful badminton player (before the Wars stopped sports events), a videographer, casual vlogger, and a corn field worker. You are also many things; an editor (before your company closed from too little employees), author, copywriter, and occasional tiller.

Both of you still enjoy nurturing sparks of creativity when they come.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Mm. someone picks it up and it gets immortalized in a post-war museum. And our videos will be a special feature.                 YOU (O.S.)         Oooh. And the war museum would be on a spaceship, with funky gravity and new plants and meat the astronauts domesticated from a different planet.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         And there’s a new jokbal. Call that out of this world delicious.                 YOU         Stop! Despite the terrible joke, you both laugh, then let the conversation drift into comfortable silence. The sun has fully set. Nothing much can be discerned visually from the footage.                 YOU (O.S., CONT’D)         Hey, Seungkwannie.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Mm?                 YOU (O.S.)         If you had the chance, like computers and steady electricity, would you edit all the BOO-logs into a short film?                  SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)             (skeptical, but thinks about it seriously)         What would the plot even be? A married couple traveling to Mokpo, dodging dust storms and chasing each other through cornfields? Watching the stars at night?                 YOU (O.S.)             (earnest)         Yeah! Or, y’know, make it semi-autobiographic, like two lovers wanting to visit where they first had their honeymoon. Or maybe I’m sick and you want to take me to the sea one last time? The footage earlier could fit with that storyline.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Don’t even say that!                 YOU (O.S.)             (laughing softly, apologetic)         Sorry, sorry. But if you do make a short film, I want to be the first to see it. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you work.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         What about you, then? Would you write a book about us?                 YOU (O.S.)         Oh, definitely. And you’d be the first to read it. The footage cuts.

D+182

Seungkwan replays the footage. Beside him, Vernon fiddles with a pen.

“What do you think about making this a short film?” Seungkwan asks. 

Vernon stops. 

Seungkwan may be their newest addition, but the rest of the crew has grown protective. He brings light to their conversations, effortless in his ability to entertain and bring laughter. Mingyu asks him of his favorite foods, especially the ones he misses from Jeju, even if recreating them is near impossible. Seungcheol reprimands anyone who tries to bully him into giving up his share of rations. Junhui has begun to joke more, noticing how Seungkwan seems to be particularly into his humor. 

Yet everyone recognizes the sadness that still clings to his heels.

Vernon looks, for a long moment, at the monitor, frozen with a picture of a smiling face he’s never known—never personally, only ever through the screen and Seungkwan’s stories, always shared in quiet whispers in the privacy of his room.

He knows, though. Knows that this person was real. They loved, and were loved. It speaks in how the camera follows whoever is in the frame. The cuts of certain clips, as though either the person behind the camera joined their partner or had a moment that could not be captured in film. Most of all, it was the way whoever was in the frame would, without fail, smile at the person behind it. 

“I think,” he replies, choosing his words deliberately, “that you are in a unique position to dictate how someone is to be remembered by those who never knew them. And…” he hesitates, wondering if two months of these quiet conversations is still too little to be so candid with his friend, especially when talking of loss.

So, so much loss.

Seungkwan answers that question for him. “It’s okay, Vernon-ah.”

“…Well, I just wanted to say that it’s a burden to bear, is all.”

EXT – A CORNFIELD UNDER THE STARS – NIGHTTIME The stars have emerged, visible in all their glory. After the start of the Blight, when the population began to dwindle, electricity and many other resources became scarce. Much of the light pollution that was once a problem has disappeared. Brilliant dots twinkle overhead. To you and Seungkwan, it could pass for the Milky Way. The POV seems to be at a low point; stalks of corn are visible at the edges of the frame. Yet the stars are bright, captured exceedingly well.

You’re softly speaking aloud Laura Gilpin’s The Two-Headed Calf. It was one of the poems you memorized in college, as a creative writing major. YOU (O.S.)             (as though from far away)         Tomorrow when the farm boys find this freak of nature, they will wrap his body in newspaper and carry him to the museum.

But tonight he is alive and in the north field with his mother. It is a perfect summer evening: the moon rising over the orchard, the wind in the grass. And as he stares into the sky, there are twice as many stars as usual. Long beat.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         Twice as many stars as usual…let’s look up together.                 YOU (O.S.)         I see the stars, my heart, but I’m tired…

A breath hangs in the air. Some rustle of cloth, as though someone had adjusted so you fit together. A soft sigh.                 YOU (O.S.) Good night, Seungkwannie.                 SEUNGKWAN (O.S.)         …Good night, darling. End.

note. are the screenplay bits from the short film? the raw sd card clips? his memories? distorted memories? guess we'll never know. nonlinear bc grief is nonlinear. pls tell me your thoughts (even/esp if u didn't get the story lol) take care of yourselves always <3 EDIT: here are annotations of this fic for anyone willing to indulge 1.1k of my meta

[charlenethecattt]

𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝐸𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑂𝑛 𝑀𝑒

Part two

Kwonjiyong&reder

Summary: After Jiyong puts you on stage, he definitely falls for you.

Warnings: None, just fluff.

Other notes: I saw that you liked the previous part but I apologize again for being short but I promised that this chapter would be longer so I hope you enjoy it (English is not my native language so sorry if there are any errors)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Your legs were shaking.

Not just because of the crowd, or the way G-Dragon had looked at you on stage like you were the only one in that stadium —

But because he told you to wait.

And you were.

You were literally standing behind some black curtain with tape on the floor and random wires everywhere, wondering if you were about to throw up or pass out.

Mel, your best friend, had basically freaked out the second you came back from the stage. She hugged you so hard you thought your spine cracked, and screamed in your ear,

“BITCH—what the ACTUAL FUCK was THAT?!”

You were still trying to process. So she did the talking.

“Girl, he sang to you. Like—looked you in the soul and sang. That’s not fanservice. That’s like… dating with extra steps.”

You laughed, barely. “I think I blacked out halfway through.”

Then you both screamed together in silence, like gremlins.

That’s what you loved about Mel—she never judged your freakouts. She joined them.

The guards hadn’t said anything to you except “Wait here.”

And that was fifteen minutes ago.

You were half convinced this was a prank or some weird misunderstanding and at any second they’d kick you out and post it on TikTok with “delusional fan moment” written across your forehead.

Mel nudged you.

“He’s gonna come. I saw the way he looked at you. If he doesn’t show up, I swear on my Spotify Wrapped I will personally find him and fight him in platform heels.”

You smiled. A little.

That’s when a voice said, “You can come through now.”

You and Mel turned your heads so fast it probably counted as a neck workout.

It was one of the crew members—headset, black tee, classic all-business. She pointed toward a hallway lit by neon lights.

“Just you,” she said to you.

Mel’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me—rude?? She needs emotional support, she just got personally serenaded by a K-pop GOD.”

But the woman smiled. “Don’t worry. She won’t be alone.”

You looked at Mel, panicked.

Mel grabbed your shoulders. “Okay. Deep breath. He’s literally just a guy. A hot, insanely famous, ridiculously talented guy who made eye contact with you and might be obsessed with your vibe. But still. A guy.”

You nodded. Sort of.

Then walked.

The hallway felt like something out of a dream—dark walls, echoing footsteps, posters of past concerts, the faint sound of the band still playing far away.

You turned a corner—

And there he was.

G-Dragon.

Leaning against a metal doorway, black hoodie over his stage outfit, black hair slightly messy like he ran his hand through it too many times.

And when he saw you—

His entire face changed.

That lazy, guarded smirk he always had with press? Gone.

Instead, his eyes lit up like you were someone he was genuinely happy to see.

“Y/N,” he said.

He laughed softly. “You came.”

“You told me to,” you said, trying to play it cool, though your heartbeat was throwing a full rave inside your chest.

“That’s true.”

Then he stepped forward.

Closer.

Like, too close to process.

“I’m sorry for the weird mystery vibe,” he said. “I just… couldn’t stop thinking about you. After I saw you in the crowd.”

Your brain short-circuited.

“I—I wasn’t even trying to stand out.”

He tilted his head. “Exactly.”

There was a pause. An insane amount of tension. And then he smiled. Playfully.

“You don’t think I do this with every concert, right? Pick a random girl and make it a whole secret mission?”

You blinked. “Do you?”

He chuckled. “No. You’re the first.”

He glanced at the hallway behind him.

“Come on. The others wanna meet you.”

Y/N Blink in confusion “the other?Wait—like, the others others?”

“Yep. The whole band.”

WHIPLASH.

You were not ready for this. Not even slightly.

But he already started walking, so what could you do?

Your feet followed before your brain could decide.

He led you through a heavy black door.

The hallway turned into a lounge — warm lights, low music, water bottles everywhere. It felt like backstage, but not messy.

It felt real.

Your stomach flipped when you saw them.

T.O.P sat slouched on a leather couch, scrolling through his phone with sunglasses still on.

Daesung was sipping something from a cup labeled “not water :)”

And Taeyang — Taeyang was halfway into doing push-ups, because of course he was. You stood frozen like you accidentally wandered into someone else’s dream.

But jiyong just nudged you gently forward.

“This is Y/N,” he said, voice low and casual. “She’s cool.”

Seunghyun raised one eyebrow. “This the girl you almost fell off stage for?”

You turned crimson.

Daesung leaned forward with a grin. “Ohhh, so this is the girl. We’ve been hearing about you for the last twenty minutes.”

Taeyang stood and offered you a quick, polite bow. “Nice to meet you.”

You bowed too, muttering a small “you too” that sounded like a mouse.

But then—

“Y/N!”

You turned just in time to see Mel barreling into the room.

G-Dragon turned to the crew girl who brought you in. “I said one guest.”

“She refused to leave,” the girl shrugged. “Threatened to cry. Or throw something.”

Mel grinned. “I wasn’t about to let her meet her future husband without me.”

SeungHyun whistled low.

“Bold.”

You mouthed “I’m gonna kill you” to Mel, who mouthed back “worth it.”

G-Dragon chuckled under his breath. “She’s fun.”

You could feel his eyes on you again. That soft focus, like he was watching more than just your face — like he was seeing your energy.

And you hated how warm that made your chest feel.

His hair was different tonight.

Longer, falling just above his jawline in soft black waves that framed his cheekbones.

It wasn’t the platinum you’d seen in interviews — it was black. Natural. Real.

And somehow, that made this whole thing feel even more intimate.

“Wanna step outside for a sec?” he asked you.

Your heart paused.

“Sure,” you whispered.

“If you make her pregnant I’m gonna kill you dragon” Mel scream in the side of the room.

⸻

He led you to a tiny side balcony. Just a few steps and you were outside, in the night air. You could still hear the hum of the crowd in the distance.

He didn’t speak at first. Just stood beside you, elbows resting on the railing, looking out at the skyline.

“You have no idea how weird this is.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

He smiled, but not like before. This smile was… almost sad.

“I don’t do this. Like—ever. I’ve had fans cry, scream, faint. But you just… looked at me like I was a person. Like I wasn’t on a stage or a screen. I don’t remember the last time someone did that.”

You stared at him, heart in your throat.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered.

“I’m glad you did”

He turned toward you then. Fully. No stage lights, no backup dancers. Just him, real and too close.

His gaze dropped for a second — to your lips. Then back up.

Your whole body felt like it was vibrating.

“I should probably say something smooth here,” he murmured.

You laughed nervously. “Like what?”

He shrugged. “Something flirty. Mysterious. The usual idol bullshit.”

“But?”

He leaned in — not enough to kiss you, but enough that it made your breath catch.

“But the truth is, I don’t know what this is. I just know that when I saw you… I didn’t wanna let it go.”

You didn’t know what to say. So you didn’t say anything.

You just looked at him — and he looked right back.

And somehow, that silence felt louder than any scream from the concert.

After a moment, he leaned away slightly, taking a deep breath. “They’ll probably think you left.”

You nodded. “Mel’s probably already planning our wedding.”

He laughed. “Honestly, I respect that.”

You turned to head back inside, but then—

“Y/N?”

You glanced back.

“Can I see you again?”

Time. Froze.

You blinked. “Like—see me again see me, or…?”

He smirked. “See you again, secretly.”

And that was when you knew.

This wasn’t fanservice.

This wasn’t a random moment.

This was the beginning of something dangerous.

Something real.

And you were already in too deep You said nothing. Just nodded once. A small, nervous, real nod.

And that was enough for him. Back inside, the energy hit you again like a wave.

The guys were still chatting, Mel was comfortably arguing with T.O.P over which era had better fashion, and the room smelled faintly of coffee, hairspray, and something electric.

Daesung noticed you first. “Ohhh, the lovebirds are back.” You gave him a look. “We were just talking.”

Taeyang raised an eyebrow. “On the balcony?”

Mel grinned. “Spicy.”

G-Dragon just smiled faintly and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, like this was all completely normal. Like your heart wasn’t still running marathons in your chest.

You sat beside Mel, pretending to be chill, when in reality your brain was screaming something like: What is my life, what is happening, is this real, do I exist??

She leaned over. “You okay?”

“Nope.”

“On a scale of 1 to holy shit?”

“Holy. Shit.”

Jiyonh phone buzzed. He glanced down, then looked at the group. “We’re heading to the hotel soon. Van leaves in ten.”

You looked up instinctively.

He caught your gaze — and held it.

That silent question again.

Would you come?

He didn’t ask out loud.

But your whole body felt the tension in the air. You didn’t answer yet. You weren’t sure you could.

Mel must’ve felt it too. “We should probably go,” she said casually, standing. “Before I get tackled by security.”

The guys laughed. Even ji.

You both said your goodbyes, polite bows, casual waves — trying so hard to act normal.

But when you passed him — just for a second — his hand brushed yours.

Not enough to be seen.

Just enough to feel.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

That night, you couldn’t sleep.

Mel passed out on your couch one of your earbuds in her ear, random playlists running

But you were just staring at the ceiling, heart still wired.

Your phone buzzed.

[mahou-furbies]

First impressions on Ichi the Witch

The requirements of what qualifies mahou enough for this blog have been getting more and more loose lately, but I think this is the furthest we've been from the magical girl genre so far. But it does have witches in it so let's go!

Back in January I came across Ichi's excellent witch design and wanted to get in on it, and for some reason I thought this would be a seinen series. But no, it's shounen, and in Shounen Jump of all things, which immediately drained most of the excitement. It's funny how I can't exactly put in words how Jump is different from say, Shounen Sunday or Shounen Magazine, but when it ambushes you like this you just know what you're in for. But anyway, at the time Undead Unluck was about to end so I figured I now might have room for a new Jump series in my heart. So I read a few chapters, forgot about it, and didn't catch up until now.

In this world there are magical creatures that witches can capture and summon for fights, like some kind of evil pokemon, though only women can use magic. However (stay with me this is going to be a stupefying turn of events) as the title suggests, our boy hero Ichi also manages to become one, much to the shock of all. Can you imagine it, a boy gets to join the action in a Jump action manga! This is truly a monumental moment for gender equality!

I wouldn't be dwelling on this if the manga wasn't so damn committed to making this its main topic. We go over this so many times, every new character has to be introduced commenting on it. The council of witches is suspicious about a man being a witch, and the general populace is also surprised about it! Men can't use even magic tools, except Ichi can! Also Ichi learns so fast, he's super good at witch stuff right away and can easily prove doubters wrong! Like geez I get it, can we move on please?

Also even aside from the gender stuff, Ichi's not really a character I particularly like. He's like this book dumb but street smart chaotic and impulsive feral hunter who is always on top of the situation isn't fazed by anything. Very little boy power fantasy type, imagine if you could just confidently do what you want despite rules and prove everyone who tries to stop you wrong! Couple this with the "Women Are Wiser" trope, where it's not uncommon for an idiot shounen hero to be paired with a more sensible female lead, whose job is to be the nagging buzzkill who futilely tries to keep the MC-kun in check. And here the female lead, Dessacras, suffers from this to some extent too and is often used to point out how wacky Ichi is.

Regardless I do like Dessacras and she's the best character so far. She's super smug in a really fun way and always has this perpetual frown on her face. And she is actually a weird slacker herself and causes ire to her witch colleagues, it's just that she's often contrasted with Ichi which forces her in the straight man role. Like Ichi she also has an S-tier character design, which is of course a big deal. Look at that hair! And eventually she gets to show that she can actually live up to her boasts of being "Everyone's Favorite Uber-Talented Badass", when Ichi finally bites more than he can swallow and needs rescuing. And lastly she is responsible for the most touching moments of the manga so far when we get past the initial introductory chapters and she and Ichi start to bond more. I see potential in their relationship and am eager to see where this goes, it is fresh for a Jump series for the female lead to be the older mentor figure rather than a potential love interest (I hope).

Ultimately I did end up adding this to my reading list. I like Dessacras and even Ichi has grown on me somewhat after getting some more depth, and now that the story has found its plot (prophecy that demands a sacrifice from Ichi) after the episodic beginning I am interested in seeing how it plays out. And longer arcs should also mean that every chapter won't introduce a new character to gawk at the male witch thing. Also the character designs are overall great and surprisingly the female characters are all dressed appropriately (meanwhile it's the dudes who strip, albeit not in a sexy scene). Special applause to Ichi's witch outfit which drew me in in the first place; it's rare to see a fun fantasy design like this on a male character. I don't think you should get your hopes up on the story doing anything meaningful with the gender stuff though, right now to me it seems like just a way to make the main character special and an underdog, and include a lot of waifus.

[myokk]

“She’s tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me”😤😤😤

(Regency AU with Eloise and Sebastian inspired by my slow trek through Bridgerton these days & @bassicallymaestra ‘s AMAZING regency inspired art😮‍💨😇🙏)

[stephofromcabin12]

Born to play Pontius Pilate in Jesus Christ Superstar forced to live in Denmark with no way to break into the acting industry :((

[ananke-xiii]

people on here complain about movie adaptations of novels written in english and that's only fair because the western cultural world is anglocentric but nothing will ever compare to the wrath i feel inside me when I remember that Alba Rohrwacher was cast to play Elena Greco. ELENA GRECOOOOOOO, what the actual fuuuck. Hearing her trying to reproduce Neapolitan/southern accent/ way of speaking is like. hearing nails on a chalkboard to me. It's just no

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Hang on thought about pastry arts school again

[revserrayyu]

One HSR Character a Day Day 41: Serval (aka: revs' favorite)

[non-un-topo]

Learned this week that I don't just love working in a library, I'm really good at it 🥺

[mechanicalbowtye]

read the scratch upd8. little too close to home

[dawntheduckrb]

I'll stop posting wips eventually but it's been five days since I've said anything and I don't want anyone to think I'm dead/dying/stuck in a ditch and withering away, so here's 10% of the reason I disappeared (the duck is stuck in rendering hell) (and my little baby laptop is screaming at me every time I open up this file)

I might still be mostly lurking for a little bit so please be patient with me in the meantime 🙏🙏