#as a reminder that she's him and he's her and theyre two parts of a pair even if she's entire planes away

[flareboi]

what if purple never calls him dad

[gilfrespecter]

Listening to coinstar by the growlers and thinking about mel so hard I get nauseous

Ridiculous stream of conscious in the tags apologies but not really

[isaacathom]

me, holding my primary ttrpg oc in my hands: im giving you so mcuh family trauma :)

[212-apricity]

theodore nott headcanons part one

masterlist

theodore nott masterlist

salvatore by lana del rey as a person

"please please please" sabrina carpenter music video 2:00-2:10

obv the quiet one of the group, smartest too

10000% sleeper build

contrary to popular belief, listens to travis scott

very well spoken and well read

stares blatantly

in the corners at parties or just not there

super funny when he does talk

dates to marry, he knows what his mother wouldve wanted for him

would never let you go to sleep mad at him

deep sleeper

keeps his hair a bit long bc he likes it when you run your fingers through it

when he speaks italian his accent is STRONG strong but when he speaks english its just english (not in a posh way but not in a roadman way either, just in the middle)

will smoke almost anything at any time

tries to quit smoking bc he thinks it bothers you but then he sees you smoking with mattheo so you two sneak out to have smoke sessions every other night from then on

doesnt really care about blood statuses and is fascinated with muggle life

became friends with hermione through you and asks her loads of questions about muggles

has bad anxiety

doesnt want to be anything like his father

would be on the quidditch team but needs draco to drag him out of bed every morning for practice

winks a lot at you like from the breakfast tables, classes, quidditch stadium, library literally everywhere

would have mattheo, lorenzo, draco and blaise as his best men at your wedding

would defo cry when youre walking down the aisle

bffs with your mum bc she reminds him of his own, they both def gossip about you in the kitchen

christian but not lukewarm

sweaters

loves jumpscaring you and pansy, would hide anywhere and everywhere just to scare you both

matching jewellery

fit checks when you go out

fights quiet

swears a lot, you scold him

doesnt sleep around despite rumors

isnt one to kiss and tell

gets you concert tickets

your song is anything from the cigarettes after sex discography

likes one direction songs bc theyre catchy

dimples

gucci and louis vuitton for himself, chanel and vivienne westwood for you

dad jokes, when youve lost something like your keys and ask him where they are he pretends to be worried for you and says "keys? but keys died 10 years ago y/n..."

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Girl Code (18+)

pairing: student!jihoon x student!reader

genre: college au, angst, smut (MDNI), lotta crack, friends to...?

description: when you and your friends find out jihoon's been writing down everything you've off-handedly said about "girl code", you simply have to know why.

warnings: brief bondage/restraint, heavy insecurity on readers part, self-doubt, dirty talk, pet names, dom!uzi, sub!reader, desperation, oral (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), muscly uzi, unprotected sex (dont do it guys....), pining, bad writing, red velvet are your friends, theyre super fun, mingyu is excluded badly, he just wants to b a part of it :(

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "i am simply a hole for him", "pussy? wet. heart? pounding. me? yearning", "every1 talks ab sapphic yearning but what ab just. jihoon-yearning?",

wordcount: 12.0k

a/n: idk why but this is deffo not as good as my previous works. n e way also sorry to @onlyseokmins bc i promised her a seokmin fic WHICH IS STILL COMING i just felt like this was kinda genius and needed to happen first ok bye

It’s mid-spring, and the world is blossoming and flowering around you. Grass sprouts greener, plants drink in the heavy rainfall and flowers are blooming, slowly unfurling their pedaled heads to crane into the beautiful sky. At odds with nature, people walk the street to be drenched in the downpour, only to be dried off by the shyly peeking sun, and to have freckles surfacing on their skin and hair, getting frizzy from the humidity, when they’re biking along the streets. It’s serene, it’s natural. You’re reminded to love the place that birthed and fostered you. 

But that’s out there.

You’re sitting, bottom planted firmly on the sticky surface of Joshua Hong’s couch, looking distantly into artificially colored lights, flickering across the floor, where people are dancing on one another in skimpy outfits and makeup, and everything is very far from the moon and the flowers. 

“The second one is a lie!” Seulgi yells over the music, cup of god knows what in her hand, and slurring her words.

Sitting on the couch and stools surrounding the coffee table is you, Mingyu, Soonyoung, Seulgi, Irene, Yeri and Jihoon.

“No, I know she likes anal!” Screams Soonyoung giddily (forever oblivious to his surroundings), receiving a glare from your roommate, Yeri. You were currently playing two truths and one lie, and attempting to discern whether Yeri was lying about being on television, lying about having black belt in taekwondo or lying about having tried anal. “It’s about whether or not she’s tried it!” Irene rolls her eyes and huffs. “My point still stands,” Soonyoung grins and eyes Yeri, and you watch somewhat disgusted, reminding yourself to ask her about it later.

You’re sitting next to Mingyu, utterly small next to him, and the two of you are only watching the scene unfold, sharing snickering glances when something funny happens. “I’ve never done taekwondo!” Yeri screams at Soonyoung, and you and Mingyu fall back in your seats laughing and slapping each other, when Soonyoung’s face drops for a moment. 

“They’re so dumb!” Mingyu cries, and you nod buried in a decorative pillow. 

“Screw this noise, I’m finding Junhui,” Hoshi mumbles, a little deflated from his loss. Then he’s standing up, cargo-pants and all, and trudging away, pouting over his shoulder when he hears the laughing continue.

Jihoon - who’s been incredibly quiet and observant throughout the night, only sipping a single bottle of beer, slaps his thighs. You’re hoping in his ever searching eyes he hasn’t seen the way you’ve been staring at him all night. Are you drunk or is he so complex and sexy, and wearing a t-shirt that shows his huge arms and pants that show his thick thighs? You’re almost certain you can chalk this up to only ever seeing him in sweaters that totally swallow him - almost. “I’m going too,” he announces, standing up and not leaving much room for argument.

“Why? I’ll be the only guy,” Mingyu whines, pout pushing out his bottom lip. You scoff. You know he loves feeling like he’s one of the girls. “Paper,” Jihoon says, and adds more, when he realizes he’s being so curt it’s almost rude: “Tomorrow. I have a paper tomorrow.” 

The group seems to accept this, knowing the stresses of college are weighing on each of them heavily. But your eyes narrow. You’re not buying it. 

You watch him sling his jacket across his body, biting back more words. He’s quiet, sure, but never this quiet. With how he’d slumped back in his seat all night, almost bent into himself, there must be something bugging him. Jihoon’s eyes meet yours. It’s a half a second, but you feel like he knows you’re on to him, the way he hides his face under his long, black hair again and turns his back to you. All of a sudden he’s hurrying away, excusing himself half-heartedly. You narrow your eyes even further and purse your lips.

“Be right back,” you say. Seulgi pouts.

You’re trudging after him, fussing with your hair all of a sudden and adjusting your dress and - God, you care so much how he sees you. But you suppose you care more that he’s okay. That’s why you’re squeezing through the dancefloor, getting grinded on by several anonymous bodies, before pushing out to the entrance and finally breathing air that wasn't coming directly from someone else’s mouth. 

“Jihoon, wait-” 

You catch up to him by the doorway, where he’s stopped his journey, to slip Vernon a bill for a ziploc of mediocre weed.

“Jihoon!” 

Finally, he hears you and he turns to you, where you’re regaining your last leg from the mass of bodies. Vernon is apparently still sober enough (you wouldn’t have thought so) to understand time and place, so he gently pushes past the two of you into the crowd. 

You’re not ready for the look he gives you. Eyes so sharp and face darkened from his shaggy hair, curling into his face, and frowning and furrowing his brows as if he couldn’t understand why you’re here. 

It sends your out-reaching body slamming backwards. You’re shrinking away from him, eyes flitting downwards self-consciously. You consider your history with him for a moment, weighing it in a glass of vodka-cranberry. This is pathetic, you realize, and it feels terrible. You’re pathetic and desperate and clingy and why would you feel the need to ask him this.

And then one moment to the next you’re scolding yourself for thinking that way. For thinking it was wrong to reach out a helping hand.

Jihoon apparently has enough of you debating with the angel and the devil on your shoulder, because he speaks finally: “What is it?” 

There’s a pause.

“Are you okay?” 

Another pause. You watch Jihoon’s face soften in shock, mouth falling open for a split second, before he’s closing it again and looking away. The ziploc crunches in his fingers, when they tighten and he shoves it into his inner pocket. 

“I’m good,” he says.

“Okay.” 

And this time and even longer pause! You can barely take it, the way he looks at you, and it almost feels like he suspicious of you, like he’s trying to discern what you’re doing here in front of him.

“Have a good night,” you say. He nods slowly and begins to walk off, and you watch him and the way the moonlight fills the entrance, so you’re coated in for a moment. Then it disappears with a slam of the door. You let out a shaky sigh. 

Why did you do that? Why would you even think to do something like that? 

You decide against standing there for any longer, not allowing yourself to overanalyze it, and you turn around to go back to your friends. Yet again comes the song and dance of trying to navigate the most terrifying human cesspool, face scrunching up in disgust as you make your way back to the sofa, almost unscathed, except you think you accidentally got caught in an armpit. 

“Y/n! Come quick, so you can be a part of this momentous- momentous.. Moment!” You hear Mingyu calling and when he’s finally in view, you realize something very, very terrible is about to happen.

Mingyu’s holding a leather notebook between his fingers - Jihoon’s notebook. It’s the one he’s always writing in; the one he shuts closed whenever anyone gets too close, the one he keeps tucked under his arm at all times; the one he’s inexplicably writing in, even if he’s blasted on Vernon’s weed. And it’s private and he’s somehow forgotten it.

“We’re not opening it,” you say immediately, power-walking back to your spot in the couch. Mingyu snaps his head towards you, and he almost looks offended at that. “What do you mean we’re not opening it, of course we’re opening it!” 

“It could be private, Gyu!” You retort and Seulgi chimes from her spot on the couch: “I’m with Y/n.” 

“No, what? Fuck you guys! We’re seeing what’s in that notebook!-” Irene spits. “Thank you!” Mingyu says.

“Yeri, it’s up to you,” you say, eyeing your roommate sharply, as you sit down again. The entire group turns to her, fury behind their retinas, and she gulps, shrinking a little. 

“Me, I just…” she shrugs abashedly and trails off. There’s a moment where you think she’ll side with you and leave the poor boy alone. You have some semblance of faith in your friendship, and maybe, maybe she’ll back you-

“He’s a music major, it’s probably just angsty lyrics, now open!” 

“Yes!” Irene and Mingyu gloat, and despite wanting to respect his privacy, you scoot closer to Mingyu (he scoffs at you, but does not mention it further, as he is itching with curiosity). With a solemn, heaved sigh, as if about to unfurl the world’s grandest mysteries, Mingyu’s large hand flips the book open.

There’s no justified way to put word to the shock that follows this. The first page reads:

“Girl Code Rule #1

Guys should bring flowers on the first date. Either lilies, roses or tulips. Depends on vibe.”

There’s a confused silence - as much as silence as you can get from a bass-boosted room of drunk college students. 

“What?” Irene quacks in disappointment, leaning closer to read it again. “Why-.. Go to the next page.” And Mingyu does, turning over the page and the next couple of pages follow suit. 

“Girl Code Rule #2

Whoever offered the date pays for dinner. First date should always be dinner, ‘none of the bowling crap’.

Girl Code Rule #3

Guys are more attractive the more hygienic they are.

Girl Code Rule #4 

It’s an ick to wear skinny jeans. *Google what an ick is.”

They come one after another, each more confusing than the last, and it’s not until number 5, that the heavy, suffocating spread of realization begins blooming among you. Clarity - your minds open like leaves of a flower in spring.

“Girl Code Rule #5

The cinema on Attacca street is a nightmare and we hate them. Never go there.”

“That’s-” you begin.

“Us!” Yeri finishes, pointing her finger at the page but directing her eyes, wide and pupils small from shock, towards you. The group exchange gaping glances. It’s undeniable - the cinema thing is relating to an incident that had happened months prior. You refuse to go into detail, but it had gotten grim.

“These are all things we’ve said!” Seulgi snatches the book out of Mingyu’s hold, beginning to mindlessly scroll through the book with furrowed brows, etch growing deeper and deeper in outrage. 

“That’s- This is crazy. That’s so not cool!” You shriek and Yeri nods in agreement: “Girl code is for girls only!” 

There’s a general agreement on the outrageousness of this. That is, except for one big boy on the couch.

“I meaaaan,” Mingyu is looking a little sheepish sitting in the middle of you and Yeri and Seulgi and Irene. All eyes flit towards him, small and sharp. He’s talking slowly, lowly and carefully:  “You guys have to have said it out loud while he was there, so you weren’t exactly being discreet…” 

“Men don’t usually listen to women, we thought we were in the clear!” Irene hisses.

“No man has ever listened to me in my entire life,” Seulgi deadpans, looking at Mingyu from beyond the book. Mingyu throws his hands out, incidentally hitting Yeri in the face, and ignoring her pained groans when she falls back on the couch. “I listened. Just now. Check that off your list-” 

“Why is he writing this down..?” You mumble, seemingly the only one grasping the gravity of the situation (although maybe there is none? You can never tell when it’s with him) and it truly is such a mystery. Was he attempting to pry open the minds of women? You don’t exactly think he has trouble finding dates, so you’re left a little at a loss. 

“Let’s ask him-” Mingu says.

“He just left, dumbass,” Irene spits and you can tell she’s almost disgusted with herself for ever siding with him.

“Let’s ask him tomorrow, then, after class,” you say decidedly. 

“Ugh, don’t talk about tomorrow..” Yeri groans, and you can see the regret settling in because why do all the hot guys throw weeknight parties? “Y/n, can we go home?” she asks and you’re nodding immediately.

“Seul?” 

“Yep.” 

And in the span of just a couple of seconds, your entire friend group is packing up, Seulgi stuffing the book into her tote bag. Mingyu’s still sitting, much smaller when you’re standing over him, and when he has that almost starstruck look on his face. “I’m so glad I’m a part of this, guys.” 

“You’re not.” 

“You’re not.” 

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu counters, clearly thinking otherwise. He’s grinning stupidly. “Hey, wait, where are we confronting him tomorrow?” he calls out suddenly, but you’re already on your way out.

“GUYS! WHERE ARE WE MEETING?”  _____________________________

You, Yeri, Seulgi, and Irene sit side by side on the middle-back row in class, eyeing Jihoon from the peaks. It’s a quiet, morning class, and the teacher rambles on while the four of you glare down at him. Or at least they glare. You hope it’s not noticeable how there’s something softer in your eyes - something almost tender. He’s fidgeting a little. Maybe he feels the pairs of eyes on the back of his black-buried head or maybe he’s noticed the book is gone and he feels the consequences coming.

It was certainly a strange situation to tackle. Mingyu did have a point, if it was a private conversation, you certainly had not discussed it as such. And even then, was there a crime in what he was doing? You just couldn’t understand how Jihoon possibly felt the need to garner all this information on women. He’d never had trouble picking up girls. You would know.

You shake the terrible, terrible thought away, when Irene speaks up: “The coward is all nervous.” 

“Okay, let’s calm down. We can’t know he’s an evildoer, before we find out his true intentions.” Seulgi reasons, a hand soothing over Irene’s arm. Yeri nods softly. “God, I wish class was over.” 

And suddenly it was. Well, twenty more minutes of suffering through a class that was totally lost, picked up by the pollen-saturated wind. Then the professor is excusing himself and wiping the board. 

Never in your life had your group been so fast at packing up their things, pencils and computers shoved down bags, before you’re strutting (model-walking) over to Jihoon. “We need to talk to you,” Yeri says, once she’s in front of his desk, hand on the wood. Jihoon looks up from where he’s packing his bag, eyes peeking through the thick strands of hair. He nods. He knows. 

As you wait for students to exit the class (Minghao giving Jihoon a confused grimace, before he squeezes out), you study Jihoon. He’s still sitting, and you’re all towering over him. His pale skin is glowing in the light and he purses his lip and bounces his leg - God, his thick leg - in nervous await. 

Students are slipping out the door in droves and when the last, tired body escapes, Seulgi reaches into her bag and pulls out the leather-bound book. “We read it.” 

“I figured,” he mutters. He’s avoiding your eyes, flinching a little when Irene slams her hand onto the book. “So, why have you been writing down the girl code?” 

Jihoon sighs. His lips make a tight line, and you can see how he wonders what to say. The pause would’ve been more tense had you not had the girls with you. 

“The girl code is for girls only,” Yeri supplies. 

“Well, you weren’t exactly being discreet about it-”

“Just answer the question, Jihoon!” Seulgi snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is, like, top-level strange.” 

“Alright!” Jihoon throws his hands up in the air. His eyes flit to you, totally quiet and scratching your nails on the wooden table. You look away. He sighs a little. “I… It’s..” 

You almost want to hug him when he buries his face in his hands, tugging at the ends of his hair. 

“You can’t tell anyone.” 

The four of you exchange glances.

“We won’t.” 

He pauses.

“It’s.. IhaveacrushonthisgirlandIdon’twanttomessitup.” 

There’s a beat, where the information glides cooly into your skulls and you begin to process. Jihoon - cold, cynical, loner Jihoon - has a crush on a girl and is trying to improve himself for her? 

Holy hell.

“Jihoon!” cries Seulgi and Irene chimes in, equally as adoring and diffused: “That’s so cute, you should’ve just said something!” 

There’s an uproar of coos and cries and oohs and ahhs and compliments being thrown at Jihoon and he just sits there, cheeks blazing bright red, although with a little, shy smile on his lips. 

And then there’s you. It’s so dumb. Why can’t you help the slight disappointment that lowers on you, like the fog does in the blooming season? Why can’t you smile wider, happier for Jihoon? Why do you feel this way? Does it really take all this commotion for you to realize how much you want him? You half-smile and look at your shoes. Just as how your feelings blossomed like a flower in spring, you hope they, too, are destined to wither away once more. 

“Congratulations,” you say to him, giving him a dignified nod. Jihoon looks at you for a moment, before he smiles tightly and thanks you.

“Jihoon!” Yeri says, and you know you’re about to hate her for what comes next: “We can totally help you with the crush!” 

Jihoon’s eyes widen. “Really? I mean- you guys don’t have to-” 

“No, no! You can come to our girls’ nights and we can tell you everything!” Irene cuts in, nodding in reassurance. Jihoon smiles to himself a little sheepishly.

“Who is it?” Seulgi asks, and you can tell her heart is triple its usual size.

“I’m not telling you.” 

“Come on!” Seulgi begs, but Jihoon is steadfast. He gives her cheeky smile and shakes his head again. “No way. It’s my secret.” 

“We can keep a secret!” Yeri begs, bending her knees in plea. You, unusually quiet, speak up again: “We can.” 

There’s a pause while Jihoon looks at you again. He narrows his eyes and it’s almost like he’s trying to decode you. Maybe he’s noticed you’re just as quiet as he was, at that party. You hate yourself when your heart picks up at the thought of him caring about you. 

Suddenly he’s snapping out of it and smiling and shaking his ruffled head of hair again. “No. If girl code was supposed to be a secret, then I don’t even wanna think about telling you.”

This time there’s no talkback, only somewhat embarrassed nods.

“We deserve that.”  _____________________________

You come back to your dorm room that afternoon, and lie down in bed. Thoughts of Jihoon plague your mind and you feel disease-ridden, attempting to push away the thought with the same useless reminder: You should do your paper, gotta do your paper now, it’s due very soon…

But no matter how many times you tell yourself, you can’t overcome the crushing feeling in your chest, like your entire rib cage is being compressed. 

You know when these emotions started. It was at the Halloween party, six months ago, and Jihoon had been wearing a cop-outfit and you, with a more humorous approach, a lobster costume (Mingyu was a chef). Somehow, he’d still found you sexy though, because he was laughing in the bathroom of Seungcheol’s frat house, ripping the costume off of you. 

“I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck a lobster,” he’d said in between kisses, laughing again as he caught sight of the costume, discarded on the floor. You giggled. “Me neither. There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know?” 

And he’d thrown his head back, still with that black hair, still in that sexy fucking uniform, and his nose all scrunched and adam’s apple bopping in time with his joyful laughter. “Stop making me laugh while I’m trying to get you wet!” 

“I’m already wet,” you’d shrugged, “you’re hot.” 

And before you knew it you were handcuffed and he was rutting into you against the sink. His cock was disappearing and reappearing from your pussy, hooked onto him like a vice. Groaning and listening to your withheld moans, he’d left the most sinful hickies along your shining neck, while mumbling desperate praises to you: “You’re so pretty, N/n, letting me have you like this, so fucking hot.” 

You supposed you’d buried those feelings, because you felt so pathetic for catching feelings from a one night stand.

And it is pathetic. And you are pathetic, and desperate, and alone, and God, is it even Jihoon, or is it the way it suddenly feels like no one wants you? 

“Stop that,” Yeri says suddenly, lying on her bed on the opposite side of your room. You tilt your tired eyes towards her. “What?” 

“I can hear you thinking. What’s up?” She said nonchalantly, dropping her phone, that she’d been mindlessly scrolling through. Cheeks bunched up on your pillow and mascara smudging under your eyes, you look at her and sigh.

“Just tired,” you hum. _____________________________

Jihoon has been adopted. For a whole week following that incident, suddenly, your friends are taking him with them everywhere, and your safe space is invaded by his hair, his laugh, and his subtle cologne. It’s him with you during movie nights, it’s him during girls’ nights, and it’s him while you’re getting ready for a bar-night, all sitting in Irene and Seulgi’s pink-tastic room, doing makeup on the floor and on the desks and on the bed. 

“I love your eye makeup,” Seulgi says to Yeri (it’s a pink number with glittery inner corners), under eyes totally covered in white powder, as she’s baking her makeup. Jihoon is sitting on the floor, hair tied up in two pigtails that Irene had given him. “Thank you, Seul.”

You’re doing your own makeup, working blush into your cheeks and trying not to look at him, the way he’s half-lying on the carpeted floor, looking absentmindedly into his phone. His thighs are huge, and he’s wearing gray sweatpants, and you think you’re going insane.

Irene (who’s done with her makeup before anyone else, always) looks up from her own phone. She narrows her eyes deviously. “Jihoon, what do you think of Yeri’s makeup?” 

Jihoon snaps his head up, pigtails bouncing. “Uh,” he looks a little lost, when he turns his head over to Yeri, who smiles sheepishly, not totally understanding what was happening. “It’s nice.” 

“Just nice?” Irene smirks, and Jihoon finally seems to catch on to the fact that this is some sort of test. Indeed it was, and you knew it from the moment Irene began to talk. Your eyes flit between them, sitting behind you in the mirror. “Can you elaborate on that?” Irene smirks.

“It’s…” Jihoon considers what to respond, almost nervous. “She looks better without makeup.”

“Son, no!”

“Never!”

“Absolutely not!” 

It’s a cacophony from the girls, even a pillow is thrown at his head, which he dodges in shock. “Never say that to a girl, Jihoon! It’s rude!” Irene lectures, a finger pointedly thrown in his direction. When he doesn’t seem to get it, Yeri explains: “Imagine spending time on something, only for someone to say they’d wish you hadn’t done it all.” 

Jihoon, who’s been bristling like a disturbed cat up until now, softens in understanding. “Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, our child, you’re learning,” Irene says, face turning back to her phone, as she apparently has lost interest in the conversation. 

You watch quietly with a bemused smile, having paused your ministrations on your face, brush held in the air before you. Jihoon’s eyes flicker over to you, an unreadable expression on his face. You meet his eyes in the mirror, pitch black and blank. You look away quickly.

You can feel him, still looking at you, and you feel self-conscious at the way you crooken your back to better focus on your face. What’s he thinking? That you look ugly? That your back is ugly? Your makeup?

“Are you okay, Y/n?” 

You freeze. His voice is soft as ever, and you understand now, better than ever, why he’s a music major, because it’s so melodious and sweet in your ears. All eyes in the room snap to you and you eye them all in the mirror. “Yep.” 

Yeri sighs, exasperated. “She’s been depresso for, like, a week.” 

“I’ve been fine,” you correct, smudging out the pencil on your lid. “I’ve been fineeee,” Yeri mocks, making her voice nasally and high. You glare at her through the mirror, but all she does is stick her tongue out at you. 

“I’m just stressed out, okay? I've got a lot on my plate,” you mumble bitterly, and it’s true, because every time you’re trying to do assignments, papers, write notes and focus in class, you think of him, and how he doesn’t want you. And one wrong thing leads to another, and then you’re thinking about how no one wants you, and you haven’t had a boyfriend since you entered college. And then it’s something about how you look, or it’s something about how you are, as a person, and you just sit at your desk with this terrible feeling in you gut, trying not to cry, or hoping that your sniffles don’t overpower Replay by Shinee blasting in Yeri’s headphones, as she’s eating crackers in bed, just a few feet away from you. 

“Just talk to us if you need anything, okay?” Seulgi frowns and you smile at her, hoping it looks convincing. She nods at you, turning back to her handheld mirror. But alas one person stays staring at you. You avoid his eyes, trying not to look like you’re about to cry.

“I can arrange a spa day? We can get our toes done,” Irene asks, and she wiggles her toes in the air for emphasis. “Ooo, yes!” Yeri exclaims. 

Finally, Jihoon’s attention is ripped from you, wincing at the thought of another person handling his feet. “Can I skip out on that, maybe?” 

Irene scratches her chin, pretending to think about it. Then she says, bluntly and directly: “Nah.” 

_____________________________

“Let me come with you to the spa!” 

“No! Jihoon, walk faster,” like a mother, Seulgi is grabbing Jihoon’s wrist and dragging him further from the tall, huge man behind you. Mingyu is following you all like a dog, whining and crying, and pouting. “Please, guys! I don’t wanna go with Seungcheol and Jeonghan, they’re mean!” 

“Spa day is for girls only!” Yeri yells over her shoulder, as the five of you stumble away from Mingyu, crying out to you. “What about him?” Mingyu yells and points. 

“Don’t listen to him, sweetie,” Seulgi tells Jihoon and he nods very seriously. “He’s our adopted son! Now shoo!” 

Finally Mingyu gives up the chase, and you disappear behind the outerwall, beginning down a busy street towards Irene’s favorite spa. “I don’t get how you’re friends with that guy,” Irene says, elbowing you, and you both snicker. “He’s a pup,” you shrug.

The streets are filled with people, the sun is shining, and it’s spring, and everything should be great, because you’re with your friends. But he’s here too. Swallowed up by his hoodie, pitch black in a sea of colors, he’s still here and his very presence has you tense, and yearning for the touch of a masseuse. The streets that had grown so familiar, that you thought you had learnt and mastered, had become so foreign, and you’re trying to escape into yourself, trying to find a backdoor out of the constant blabbering, teaching Jihoon the importance of gossip and female communication and companionship. These are your friends. The sadness eventually musters into frustration.

Soon enough, you’re sighing so hard you think your soul escapes with it through your mouth. A spa-worker begins massaging your feet, and working her thumbs into your sore soles. Irene laughs at your reaction, two seats over. “Told you all you needed was a spa day!” she beams. Yeah, a spa day and maybe a new friend group that wouldn’t adopt the guy who you should certainly not be around!

And speaking of him, he’s sitting in the chair right next to yours, grimacing and flinching back from the disdained worker. 

“What are you gonna tell her?” Yeri quips, smiling at the end of the row. Jihoon takes a second to snap out of his constant flinching, looking over at her nervously. “Oh, uh…” 

The girls are all looking at him expectantly, but you’re squeezing your eyes shut and wishing your ears could shut too. 

“Probably, like.. ‘Hey, I like you, would you maybe wanna go out on a date sometime?” 

“Pssh!”

“Absolutely not!”

“As if!” 

Jihoon is a little flabbergasted.

“Here’s what you’re actually gonna say,” Seulgi leans over in her chair towards him, directing him with a finger in her armrest. You hear Jihoon scramble in his chair, and you know he’s taking out that stupid notebook again.

Seulgi lowers her voice to mimic his, when she talks again: “‘Hi, crush, how are you?’ Wait for her response… Then: ‘I’ve always thought you were very beautiful. Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date, would that be okay with you?’ And be suave about it.” 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH.”

Yeri and Irene burst into laughter, hitting the armrests of their chairs and covering their bright smiles with their hands. Even you snort in amusement. “What?!” Seulgi exclaims, outraged. “What’s so funny about that?” 

“Nothing, I just-...” Irene wafts herself, trying to ease away that tears of glee that spring in her eyes. “I can’t imagine any man, let alone our son, saying that to a woman.. Wow.” 

“It’s good! I would be flattered,” Seulgi defends herself viciously. Yeri snorts from her seat: “It’s not a drama, Seul!” 

“Well!” Seulgi scoffs, twisting her upper body to face Yeri now. “Maybe I would like my life to be a drama, thank you very much!” 

Their argument continues viciously, insults and laughter being thrown at each other left and right and you can almost begin to tune them own, letting the feeling of pads on your feet and a gentle, cool brush on the nail lure you to sleep.

Then there’s a hand on your forearm. You peek an eye open and see him - God, it just has to be him - leaning over his chair to gently grasp you. He looks at you through lashes, and he’s so sincere that it kills you when he says: “I can tell you’re not okay.” 

You’re a little taken aback, one second prior you were being lulled to sleep and now he’s talking to you, so low, so seriously, while the girls try to attack each other behind him. You wish your heart isn’t suddenly galloping, and you wish his warmth on your arm and radiating onto you isn’t so nauseating. “I-”

“Don't say you are, when you're not. You’re very obvious, you know?” he hums, smiling softly when he sees you flush from his intense gaze. You avert your eyes nervously. “Uhm. I just.. I don’t really want to talk about it, Hoon.” 

You flick your eyes back up to his to survey his reaction. His expression softens at the nickname, and he holds your gaze for a moment longer, before he nods in understanding, all the warmth of his closeness disappearing, when he sits back down in his seat.

“That’s okay,” he smiles at you in reassurance, and your heart leaps, and you can’t help but think that he doesn’t need anymore training to make his crush - whoever the lucky girl is - completely and totally happy for several lifetimes. 

He’s a beautiful, sun-beamed flower, where he sits, light flitting through the store-front windows. You’d be happy for several lifetimes. If only he wanted you. _____________________________

“What is going on?!” 

It’s Mingyu, and he’s somehow found you, as you’re trudging out of your latest class, suddenly hot on your trail and outraged about something or other. “What?” you mumble, heading to the cafe near the end of the hall.

“With Jihoon?! Why does he get to be your son when I don’t?!” Mingyu wafts his arms and pouts and you cringe, leaning away from his loud voice. “Ugh…” 

“I need to know why he was writing that girl code stuff, Y/n. Why is he suddenly allowed at girls’ nights, when I’ve been trying to get in for months?!” 

You take a turn into the cafe and sigh at how crowded it is, immediately placing yourself in line, Mingyu right behind you. “Calm down,” you say, just wanting a sandwich and maybe some peace and qui-

“I will not!” he snaps back, brows furrowed and a determined look on his face. You look up at him, pursing your lips in thought. Did Mingyu deserve to know? Maybe. He had been trying to get into girls’ nights forever, always going on about being ‘an honorary member’. 

“I’m not sure I can tell you- Hey, can I get a tuna sandwich, please?” You say, quickly turned to the clerk behind the counter. “I won’t tell anyone, pleaseee- Can you get me one of those too? Thanks.”

You’re handed your sandwiches, and you hold both of them, drifting over to a table by the window, both of Mingyu’s hands on your shoulders and his voice in your ear: “Please, please, please, pretty please with the sugar on top?”

You plop down in your seat, simply exasperated, and hand him his sandwich. He’s settling himself down when you answer: “Okay.”

“Yes!” Mingyu fists the air in victory, mumbling self-assured under his breath: “Begging always works.” You snort and take a big bite of your sandwich. 

“Stop eating and tell me!” he whines. “I’m hungry– Hey!” 

Mingyu snatches the sandwich right out of your hands and grins at you deviously, dancing with it. You hate him. You hate him, but it is a little endearing.

“Jihoon has a crush on some girl and he’s been writing down the girl code in an attempt to understand women,” you deadpan, and when Mingyu’s mouth and guard drops, you snatch your sandwich back and begin gulping down hungrily. 

“Are you shitting me?!” You shake your head.

“So, that's why he's allowed at girls’ night?” You nod your head. 

“So, that’s why you’ve been so down?” You almost choke on your food.

“What?” 

“Because you like him,” Mingyu says seriously and, with a totally stunned look on your face, you shark down the bits of sandwich in your mouth painfully. “How do you know that?!” you cry, head suddenly snapping in seventy different directions, relief washing over you, when none of your or Jihoon’s friends are around.

“Because you’ve been acting all weird around him since you fucked at Seungcheol’s Halloween party,” Mingyu shrugs. You wave your arms wildly.

“How do you know that?!” Whining, you throw yourself back in your seat, and bury your head in your hands. This couldn’t be happening. Your delicate secret, the one that could have - should have - simply faded away into summer, was now out and open, and you look out the window, and it’s spring.

“I know everything,” Mingu says ominously, giggling evilly.

“Mingyu, I will fucking kill you.”

“Fine! I needed to pee and you guys were super loud,” Mingyu pouts and takes a bite of his own sandwich. “No need to be so rude.” 

“I can’t believe you know,” you groan, head collapsing on the table. Mingyu, forever and always silly, finally softens and frowns. You’re scattered. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“No,” you say. Then, a moment later (in true Girl Code fashion) you’re lifting your head from the table and burying it in your hands: “I just. I don’t know, Mingyu. I feel so pathetic for liking him after a one night stand! And now he’s doing all this for another woman and he’s with us all the time…I haven’t had a boyfriend in college, Mingyu. I just feel so…” There’s a pause, when you’re trying to find the right word, and Mingyu stops breathing, looking at you and fearing the worst. Then comes the word, ripping itself from your lips:

“Unlovable.” 

Mingyu’s frown deepens. Big, puppy Mingyu who’s always silly and happy, just slumps in on himself. “You’re not unlovable,” he mumbles, sounding genuinely disbelieving. You scoff.

“Thanks, Mingyu, it’s just.. That’s how it feels,” you admit, running a hand through your hair and looking at your half-eaten sandwich on the table. Mingyu’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks up again, he’s determined, and you can discern almost immediately that there’s no escaping this plan. Or he’ll for God’s sake start begging again.

“I’m going to wingman you,” he’s nodding to himself, and you can see the plan falling into place in his head, “I’m gonna wingman you and set you up with my friend at the party on Saturday!” 

“Please, don’t,” you groan half-heartedly, but a piece of you brightens with hope, with summer, like maybe this was the thing you needed to get over your schoolgirl-crush on Jihoon.

“No,” Mingyu responds simply. “This is happening.”  _____________________________

Indeed, it is happening. 

The frat house is practically bumping with each beat of whatever pop song is playing over the speakers, and you lean into the rhythm that reverberates in the kitchen table beneath your fingers.

You somewhat wish that you hadn’t been as excited for this as you were, that you hadn’t spent hours picking out the perfect pink dress and doing your makeup, and that you aren’t hopelessly dependant on Mingyu (of all people) to find you a fuck. But you are. Putting on that dress and hoop earrings and doing your hair and declining Yeri’s invitation to the girls’ (and Jihoon’s) pre-party, you feel like you’re scrambling, like constantly falling through the air, flailing for something to ground yourself on. 

Now, scanning over the tinted lights and the dancing people and feeling the slight, warm buzz of vodka in your blood, you know you need this. And still, you combat that slight anxiety, the insecurity that you hadn’t felt in years - what if Mingyu couldn’t find a single guy that wanted you? 

Mingyu doesn’t seem worried though.

“Okay! We just gotta figure out who to set you up with. Take your pick,” he places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing and gauging your reaction. Your brows furrow as you shrug. Somehow, even when half the guys are objectively hot, you can’t say you find yourself drawn to any of them. You don’t linger on the feeling, fearful that maybe you’ll realize all the things they’re missing, the things they’re falling short of, are just Jihoon’s traits. “I don’t know, man. I just-..” 

Mingyu senses your struggle and elects to give you his excellent guidance. “Alright, well you could do Joshua?” He’s pointing somewhere in the crowd, and sure enough, you notice Joshua, majoring in communications or something like that. “He’s a star: total hottie, super smart, sweet and considerate, and-” 

“And he fucked Yeri,” you deadpan, head lolling over to look at Mingyu disapprovingly. Mingyu’s mouth falls open: “What?!”

“Yeah, like, two months ago!” you argue, wafting your hands. Mingyu’s mouth stays open, and he’s seemingly totally appalled by this. 

“What?! Okay- nevermind. How about him?” He points his long limbs again, and this time you notice- 

You narrow your eyes confusedly. Hopefully Mingyu was not trying to set you up with the biggest player in your year? “Jeonghan?!” 

“What? No, the guy beside him, dickwad,” he playfully smacks the side of your head as you refocus your eyes. Indeed, a blonde guy is standing next to Jeonghan, seemingly whining at him. “Who’s he?” 

“Lee Chan. Super sweet, great bod, a little dumb, but very doting-” 

“Is he a freshman?!” you cry, almost as if it were a crime. Mingyu huffs. “You’re not making this easy, you know?!” 

“I’m not dating or fucking a freshman,” you cross your arms and Mingyu senses the air of finality in your words. He sighs, slumping behind you for a moment, before he spots something across the room.

“Wonwoo! What about him?” he doesn’t even bother pointing at this point, simply tilts your head towards the man, who was currently talking to Seungcheol a little ways from the kitchen. You spot him. You suppose you’d always been a little curious about Wonwoo. From what you’d seen of him in passing, he was sweet and polite, absolutely gorgeous and extremely smart. You nod solemnly.

“I could- I could see that,” you say and Mingyu’s eyes light up. He bounces victoriously, punching the air. “He’s great, you’re- you’re gonna love him,” Mingyu delights and before you can even get another word in, Mingyu’s yelling across the room: “Hey, Wonwoo! Wonwoo, scootch over here!”  

Your eyes widen in shock. “Wha- we’re doing this now? Just, on the fly? No warning?” 

“It’s fine,” Mingyu waves you off, eyes trained on where Wonwoo is now walking towards you. 

“Do I look okay?” your voice is wavering nervously. You still can’t help how you feel, even in your dress and your makeup. Where had all your confidence gone? The confidence with which you’d literally fucked Jihoon in a lobster-costume? Even the thought of him stings. Mingyu’s confident facade falters for only a split second at the vulnerability in your tone. His gaze softens and he looks at you: “You look great, N/n. Calm down, Wonwoo’s super nice.” 

“Hey, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s voice is cool, as he approaches Mingyu. Standing in front of you and Mingyu, he briefly scans you, then acknowledges you with a nod and a sweet smile. “Wonwoo, hey, you know, I was just wondering if you’ve already done the history paper?” 

Wonwoo is unamused. “I’m not doing your paper again, Mingyu.” 

“Oh well, shucks, that’s simply too bad,” Mingyu (poorly) feigns annoyance and defeat, before he’s grabbing your shoulder. “Anyway, Wonwoo, have you met my very good friend, Y/n?” 

You fake a smile, hoping the absolute pain of the current interaction was not showing on your face. If you’d known Mingyu was this bad at wing-manning, you would’ve gladly put up with his begging instead. You want to crawl into a hole and die, because based on Wonwoo’s smug smile, he has a pretty good understanding of what’s happening.

“Whoops, look at the time!” Mingyu looks at his wrist. He is not wearing a watch. “Damn, I guess I gotta go and- and leave my two good friends alone with each other, such a shame, uh, anyway!” As he speaks he backs further and further from you, trying to ignore the glare in your eyes, before he’s bolting at his last word. 

There’s an awkward silence as soon as Mingyu’s gone. You feel like an unshelled turtle. You purse your lips and stare at your heel-clad feet. 

“So, Mingyu was trying to wingman you?” Wonwoo’s voice is deep and bemused. You look at him in horror, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation.

“Yeah,” your breathe, and he immediately begins laughing. “Sorry about that, he was- he was just trying to be helpful, although it’s hard to defend him right now.” 

“He’s wingmanned me before, too,” Wonwoo muses and, thank God, this was actually a good thing. You find a balance on the common ground. “Really?” you grin, looking up at him.

“Yep,” Wonwoo admits, “safe to say I did not get my dick wet.” 

You laugh hard, and it feels like a switch has flipped inside you, restarting your joy-generator, because you’re laughing and hitting Wonwoo’s arm, and he’s smiling because he’s just made a pretty girl laugh. 

“He’s so bad!” you say when you’re done laughing. “Everytime!” Wonwoo drawls, “Everytime he pulls that shit and he’s never wearing a watch!” 

You and Wonwoo laugh together, throwing (good-hearted) snarky comments about Mingyu around, and your cheeks are rosy and shining in the kitchen-light. Finally, party still bumpin’ and pumpin’ in the near distance, your laughter dies down and you’re both half-leaning against the counter. Wonwoo looks down at you with a smug smile. 

“What?” you ask, growing insecure again under his gaze. He hums.

“So you asked for me?” 

“Hm?” 

“When Mingyu was wingmanning you,” Wonwoo reminded you, tilting his head. “You asked for me?” 

“I-” you stutter, and your heart clenches nervously, because if things had been right, if things were different at least, you would have asked for Jihoon. It’s this gut-punching guilt. It feels wrong to use him, Wonwoo, to overcome Jihoon. “He was laying down my options.” 

“Options?” Wonwoo quips, brow raised questioningly, but he doesn’t interrogate further. Instead, he leans his head down, so he’s much, much closer to you, breathing hitting your face when he whispers: “But you wanted to fuck me. Isn’t that right?” 

You gulp. His presence is almost suffocating. Avoiding his eyes, you flicker them onto the dancefloor, where- 

Where Jihoon is storming out of the house. 

You squeeze your eyes shut - something Wonwoo thinks is out of embarrassment, from the question he’s just asked you - and try to refocus on Wonwoo. Try to ignore how the thoughts about Jihoon come bubbling in your head. It was probably something with his crush. You want to do nothing more than comfort him, hold him, steal away every bad thought he may ever have. 

You open your eyes, hoping that somehow seeing Wonwoo’s face would fill you with a need for him - him, and not Jihoon - but seeing him in the low lighting only serves as a reminder that Wonwoo is not him. 

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Wonwoo. I gotta go. I’m really, really sorry-” you say suddenly, and immediately you’re scurrying towards the door. Wonwoo frowns, eyes following you in your path. “Did I- Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

“No, you were hot!” you say absent-mindedly, before you’re disappearing into the entrance, and then further along, out the door.

Wonwoo stands alone at the counter, still somewhat leaned towards your ghost in front of him, and shakes his head in confusion. “What the fuck?”  _____________________________

“Jihoon?” 

You exit just in time to see him, stomping on the other side of the road, armless denim jacket wafting in the wind. It’s spring, just warm enough that you’re not freezing, but still cold enough that you curl your arms around yourself. Your hair blows gently. It smells distantly like flowers. 

He turns around at your voice. When he does, you know your suspicions were right. He looks so defeated. His gorgeous long hair, that usually only makes you clench your thighs together, is limp and drags him downwards. His arms hang similarly at his sides, fists clenched at the bottom, causing veins to ripple along the forearms. He stands just below a street light, spot-lighted, as if on a stage.

“Leave me alone!” he yells out to you across the road, voice breaking halfway. This does nothing to dampen his demeanor - this tough front, this anger he suddenly carries. You still in the grass beside the road, looking at him pleadingly. He can’t hold your gaze.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Jihoon,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “But I can just.. Support you. You don’t have to be alone right now.” 

This almost seems to piss him off more, clenching his jaw, sharply defined by the harsh shadows, and steering his head away from you, like a sunflower following the sun in the sky. It hurts your heart. The way he almost seems angry with you. And yet again you’re made to feel pathetic for following him out here. Like you’re on your knees and he’s standing there in front of you, spitting on you. Why does it hurt so much? You almost wish you’d stayed with Wonwoo - that you’d followed him to his room and let him fuck you and pretended you weren’t thinking about him the entire time.

“Shouldn’t you go back inside?” he’s prickling with hostility. “You seemed like you were having a good time.”

“Jihoon,” you say breathlessly. “None of us is having a good time if you’re not.” 

Whatever cog you unturned, whatever screw you unscrewed, Jihoon’s tightly wound posture unwinds, and he softens and withers before you, one hand clamping over his eyes. You take this as a sign to move towards him, heels clicking on the asphalt warning him of your advance. It’s deadly quiet, save for the heartbeat of the frat house behind you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally lowering his hand and looking at you. You smile sympathetically, relief flooding you, when he lets you gently place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.” 

The two of you begin to walk in silence, and you recognize it as the path that leads back to the dormitory. It’s calm, steps becoming rhythmic and breeze easing your muscles with its cool touch. You study his face as it’s lit and unlit by the systemic presence of street lights. You’re able to put your own feelings aside for him, to be a martyr, and to sacrifice yourself to comfort him. It feels like cutting your own throat to talk to him about another woman, a woman he loves, truly, but you know it must be done.

“So,” you muster finally. “What happened in there?” 

He scoffs bitterly, looking at the pavement underneath his shoes. You frown. “Nothing happened.” 

“Nothing?” you repeat, a little confused.

“I didn’t tell her.” 

“Oh.” 

You’re honestly not the best comforter, you realize, cringing and hoping you’re not making it worse by talking to him about it. You see the faint outline of the dormitory at the end of the street. 

“Why not?” you quip quietly. His mouth makes a tight line. He breathes out shakily, and you fear you’re riling him up again by asking further.

“She was talking to some other guy,” Jihoon says, eyes flitting to yours before immediately ducking back to the pavement. You furrow your brows. Could it be you? That thought nurtures the spring garden in your stomach, the one you’d been trying to kill. But the insecurity that had come with it, and with him, only manages to squander that light.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you say softly, hand finding his arm, but he pulls it away from you immediately. Ouch. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles without humor. 

Finally, you decide to just shut up, to stop pushing him when he’s so vulnerable, but this time it’s Jihoon who doesn’t stop speaking. “You know,” he begins and again he’s laughing, but you can tell it’s only a cheap plaster for the pain in his voice, “I’d memorized that- that confession thing Seulgi made. And I followed all the- the style advice and the-” his voice breaks and he hisses at how pathetic it sounds. “Everything. I did everything,” he summarizes finally and when you look you see orbs of tears forming at his waterline, like the dew drops that sparkle on leaves in spring. 

You don’t know what to say. It’s almost too hard to see him like this. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, but Jihoon shakes his head.

“Stop saying that,” his voice is harsher, groggier, thick and stained by the sobs in his throat. You pause your steps. You’re standing in the yard outside the dormitory now. Hundreds of windows become an audience to where you now stand before each other. 

“Why?” you ask. 

“Because-” he wipes the tears away aggressively, composing himself before he finally, finally looks at you. “Because you’re gonna make me think that you actually care.” His voice is suddenly laced with venom again. The hostility that you’d tamed returns and it’s so much stronger, more bitter. You’re taken aback.

“I-I do care? Why do you think I don’t care-” 

“Oh, please, Y/n. You didn’t want me at your girls’ nights or at spa day or fucking whatever. You didn’t- You don’t care about my book or my crush or my-” 

“I do care!” you interrupt, voice stern and much louder. “What, you think I follow you out of parties for fun? Because I don’t care about you? And yeah, maybe I didn’t want you at the girls’ nights, but what does that matter-” 

“It matters because!–” he stops himself in his tracks, hand coming out to halt you. “Fuck it, wait here,” he orders, and suddenly he is trudging into the darkness of the courtyard. You stand still, flabbergasted, and thoroughly confused. It’s so dark you can’t even see what he’s doing, only hear him in the dirt, silhouette blending into the shadows. Then, he’s walking back to you and you finally see him. 

There are flowers in his hands. 

It’s a makeshift bouquet, held tightly in between his veiny, pale hands, consisting of flowers that grow in the courtyard, red, yellow and lilac. It’s a slow-burning realization as he stands himself before you, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that is laced with pain. You know this part of the girl code. 

“Hi, Y/n, how are you?” he breathes, and his voice is shaking and he’s looking at you and practically begging you to play along - to indulge him, even if you would turn your back on him. You can hardly register anything but him and those flowers, because your surroundings, the moon, the stars, the shadows and the streets are overpowered by the blooming in your chest. A single flower unfurls the pedals of your heart until you are open before him. You meet his eyes.

“I’m good.” 

He nods. 

“I’ve always thought you were very beautiful,” it almost seems like it physically pains him to admit these breathless feelings. “Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date,” another pained, gulping pause. “Would that be okay with you?”

It’s as if time has stopped in this moment; how his chest rises and falls under his shirt, how his hair gently nuzzles his face, how his eyes blear out at you from underneath his bangs, how he glows in the moonlight, and how his hands shake around the stems of the flowers. 

“Was I..” his voice is hoarse, “Was I suave about it?” 

“Yes,” is all you can manage, because all those flowers that you had stomped into a half-death were coming alive again and this time it was more than welcome.

“Yes?” 

“Yes, you can take me on a date,” you break into a wide smile and, upon realizing you probably look like an idiot, you lower your gaze and your warm, shining cheeks to the pavement. He gasps, and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever heard.

“But- you and Wonwoo-?” 

“Do you wanna know why I was even talking to Wonwoo?” you ask, and when you meet his eyes again, he’s also smiling. You can’t help but reach out a hand to wrap around one of his, still frozen in holding the flowers. He quickly maneuvers the bouquet to the other hand and intertwines your fingers. Your heart soars. “Mingyu found out that I was sad because you had a crush on someone - I didn’t think it was me, you know? So he promised to wingman me at this party.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Jihoon whispers, and you laugh, feeling so floaty and lovely. “Don’t call him that,” you say, but Jihoon only smiles cheekily, eyes matching the crescent moon in the sky above you.

“No, I meant me,” he says. He looks down at the flowers and frowns. “Is that why you were so quiet? On girls night?” 

You nod and he sighs. “I’m such an idiot.” 

“No, you’re not. You’re so sweet,” you say genuinely, and Jihoon nearly melts at how much you mean it. There’s something so wonderful about the way all the words, that he would never use to describe himself, float around your head and sparkle in your eyes in this moment, looking up at him.

Jihoon needs to kiss you.  He’s not sure he’s ever needed anything as badly. He rips his free hand from yours only to place it tenderly against your cheek, pulling your face and your warmth into him, bouquet held out at his side to allow you snugly in his chest. 

His lips are so soft and his nose nuzzles your own, plush hair tickling your forehead, and his huffed out breaths dance along your cheeks. Your lips mod perfectly, unlocking the shackles with which that earth-shattering yearning had held onto you. The world is anguish but will momentarily and suddenly be interrupted,  cleaved apart with a sudden gash, by a planet-killer: love. 

You truly don’t mean to make it heated, hell, you’d be content just kissing him forever, feeling how his tongue prods at your lips and meets your own, but his sculpted chest under your fingers draws out a pathetic moan. His eyebrows spring up and he pulls back to look at you. You blush under his gaze, fiddling with your dress.

“Holy fuck, that was so fucking hot,” he gasps, lips swollen from your insistent sucking on them, panting into the night air. You brighten at his compliment. “Inside. Now. To my room.” 

“You know, girl code says to not have sex before on the third date,” you say smugly, unprepared when his free hand pushes you back into his chest, and his lips drag over half of your face, finding home at your ear. His voice is a growl: “Fuck. Girl code.” 

He begins a somewhat dramatic march to the front door and you can’t help but run after him, taking his hand, and seeing how he smiles at that feeling. He looks so happy. Your heart skips a beat, because it’s you - you’re the one making him so happy. 

And he’s so hot, it’s all you can think about as he drags you along the corridors, how nice his arms look in the sleeves denim, how pretty his hair is, his fucking face, and the chest you just barely felt under your fingertips. You’re watching doors pass in a monotonous routine, jittery and unable to wait for the one that might be his, for him to take you through it, and for you to bloom, totally and perfectly under him.

“Fucking finally,” he breathes, voice gruff and much lower than you’re used to when he stops at his door, fishing for his keys in his pocket. It enters the lock and with a click, everything you fantasized about is opening to you. 

As soon as you’re inside, he’s kicking the door shut and pushing you against the wall, nails gripping into your dress, when he finally drops the makeshift bouquet on his nightstand. He cries out into your mouth at the way your chest bounces from the impact, immediately capturing your lips in his again. 

You can’t help the way you’re tugging at his hair, trying to ground yourself in the feeling of him, when he shoves a thigh between your legs. You moan into his mouth, rutting into him, while his wandering hands pull your skirt up you to pool around your waist. He pulls back to look at you, how your hips cant into his strong, big thigh, and how your pink, lacey panties cling to your wet pussy. 

“Off,” he mumbles, apparently having decided that the simple tugging of the fabric of your dress won’t be enough. You turn around in a daze, not even uttering a word, simply shoving the zipper at the back of it. 

Jihoon groans, he has to, seeing the way you stick out your ass to him, while your hand lay flat on the wall. You shake your hips teasingly at him, and his hands float to your ass, petting it and squeezing it in his fingers, and biting his lips because it looks so fucking good and plump, and there’s a wet spot in your panties. He grabs your hips and rubs his dick into you. You gasp at the feeling, nails scratching against the wall.

“You make me so hard, baby,” he says breathlessly, unable to help himself humping against you, pre-cum spilling from his tip. “Shit,” he grunts, and you’re squeezing your eyes closed at the outline of his dick pressing into your pussy. 

Finally Jihoon collects himself and his cold hands drag the zipper down. The top of your dress loosens and slides down your shoulders, where Jihoon aids you in slipping it off. His hands spin you around, finally taking a breath to marvel your bare chest in front of him. 

You blush, suddenly so bashful, when just before you were wiggling your ass at him. You curl your arms over your chest, but Jihoon’s own come to stop them. “No, no, no, no,” he tuts, almost sad, “why are you doing that?” 

You don’t answer immediately, but apparently it’s not a rhetorical question. His hands intertwine with yours to prevent you from covering yourself up. “Uh, I don’t know,” you stammer sheepishly, “I don’t wanna, like, kill the mood or any-” 

“You’re not killing the mood, pretty,” Jihoon whispers so, so achingly sincere and your heart hurts. 

“Sorry, it was just-” 

“Don’t say sorry,” he lectures, interrupting again. He tilts his head and he looks at you with a flaming intensity. “Try again.” 

You pause, flustered out of your mind.

“I-I’ve just been feeling a little insecure lately, I guess,” you say and you’re positive your face is beet-red, but if it is Jihoon says nothing, only pouts and releases one hand only to direct your eyes back to his with a hand on your chin. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he says and even when you seek it out, you can’t find even the slightest hint of lying in his voice. “I want to show you, but I can’t do that if you cover up. Understand?” 

You nod, lips breaking into a little smile, that his heart becomes hot like the spring-sunshine. “Okay,” you say and he smiles brightly, releasing your chin from between his fingers. 

He guides you onto the bed, but it’s no longer heated and rushed, it’s so soft and gentle, and he pulls off your underwear only after you whisper in agreement, and then he lowers himself into it, again, only allowing himself the pleasure when you whisper a strained yes and nod vigorously. 

He fully makes out with your pussy - his lips are wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking it, and fucking moaning into it, sending vibration straight to the coil in your stomach. You’re moaning so loud, broken cries bouncing off the walls, while your finger wrap into his hair and your legs thrash. His tongue flattens against your folds, then dips down to trail around your slit. 

“Jihoon!” you cry, hips bucking into his mouth. He groans again, releasing your pussy with a soft pop. “Fuck, baby, keep saying my name like that.” And then his face disappears in your pussy again.

And you do, everytime his nips and gums on your sensitive folds, tongue trailing back up to your nub to fully envelop it. He sucks, hard. And you think you might cum the second you look at him, because the image of his full head of hair buried in between your legs and lapping like a starved man is so pornographic, your head spins.

He might go insane from just the taste of you, he realizes, because even when you cry that you’re cumming, and your legs shake around his head and your pussy is soaked with your cum, he can’t bring himself to pull away, strong arms wrapping around stomach to still you as you begin to wiggle from the feeling of his tongue just continuing to lap at you.

“Jihoon! Fuck, t-too much,” you whimper and the sound shoots straight to his cock. He finally pulls away, eyes still trained on your pretty cunt, and the way it clenches around nothing. “Clenching so hard, sweetheart, only for there to be nothing, shouldn’t we fix that?” he hums, leaning down to trail his finger through your folds, gathering your wetness on its tip.

You whimper uncertainly, when he crawls back over your body, hair tickling your face when hovers just above you and he shushes your pathetic squeaks. He pushes the wet finger into your mouth and you suck obediently. “Shh, baby, just taste yourself on my finger, how can you be insecure with a pussy like that, hm?” 

You cry around his single digit, tongue sliding over it eagerly. He wants to fuck your face, the way your pretty, plump lips wrap around his finger, but he’ll save that for another time. “Shh, baby, I know. You’ll be stuffed full of cock soon, don’t worry,” he rasps soothingly, and slips his drenched finger from your mouth. 

Finally, he rips the denim jacket off, white tee following soon after, and you’re left, mouth gaping, at the how toned his stomach is, how big his pecs are and how fucking thick his arms are at his side. 

“You’re so fucking hoot, Hoonie,” you drawl, making grabby hands to urge him back to you. He smiles at those words, even gains a small dusting of pink on his cheeks, but he shakes his head. “Gotta get my pants off, baby.” 

“Hurry up,” you grin playfully, and he scoffs at you from where he stands, pants and boxers coming off in one fell swoop. “So needy,” he mumbles to himself, but you can tell by the overjoyed expression on his face, that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. 

His cock is finally freed, and your eyes float to it, drinking in the sight of him. He’s so pretty and so red, and a single vein creeps up its curved surface towards the oozing head. You gulp, eyes sparkling. 

“Wan’ it in my mouth,” you mumble, where you’re now half sitting up and glowing from your first orgasm. Jihoon looks at you and laughs, as he climbs on top of you again. 

His face hovers over yours, finger carding through your hair tenderly. He looks in your eyes. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.” 

He coos at you, eyes flickering to your lips for a moment, and you feel his cock twitch where it rests heavily on your stomach. “Not right now, pretty, I wanna fuck you.” 

“You don’t have to cum-” you reason, mouth practically watering at the thought of having him in your mouth. He stops you though, hand still brushing through your hair, so delicately, as if you were a lily, or a rose, or a tulip.

“I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you look at me like that with my fucking cock in your mouth,” he whispers, and it’s so intimate, despite being so vulgar. How warm you both are, naked and holding onto each other and his dick is oozing onto your stomach and your pussy is leaking onto his sheets. “Like that,” Jihoon emphasizes, when you look up at him adoringly. You smile. 

“Okay,” you say, a determined look on your face, “later then.” 

He laughs. “Eager baby. Relax, you’re gonna get a pussy full of cock now, your mouth can wait.” 

You wanna retort, say something snarky, anything, but you’re abruptly interrupted by the feeling of his cock pushing into you. You moan and your nails claw at his back, because it’s so big and so raw in your pussy, you feel that fucking vein dragging against your walls. “Shit, Hoonie. Fuck, fuck.” 

He’s groaning too, hands on your waist and face in your neck. “So fucking tight, so pretty.” 

You’re both panting when his cock is fully nestled inside you, sitting snug against your walls. You look up at him and he’s pretty, all flushed and lips swollen, and the sight makes you clench. He hisses, jerking abruptly, making the both of you moan. 

“Fuck, baby, can’t just clench on me like tha-” 

“Please, please, just fuck me now, can’t wait anymore!” you cry, clawing at him, nails raking over his flexed biceps, where he holds onto you. And he can’t help but fulfill your wish.

You honestly don’t know where he gets his stamina, because the second you’re done asking, he’s ramming into you so hard and so fast, your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in a long whine. The whole bed is shaking from the impact, as his hips sheath and unsheath from your warm, welcoming pussy. 

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he drawls, hands trailing up from your waist to your bouncing chest, thumbing over your nipples. “Bet Wonwoo wishes he got to see you like this, hm?” 

The way your pussy has his cock in a chokehold, the way you’re lying beneath, it has him fully dazed, and now he babbles all that comes to mind. “Yeah, but you’re mine, princess. No one else gets to see you like this, no one else can have you crying like this for their cock, right?” 

“N-No one else,” you whimper, sopping cunt clenching and unclenching around his dick. “That’s right,” he pants, humid breath on your cheek, ���Say you’re mine, pretty girl, say you’re fucking mine.” 

“A-ah, ‘m yours, Hoonie,” you cry and he thinks he might cum just like that, at your blissed face, glowing beneath him, and your pussy sucking him in, and you obeying him thoughtlessly. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he rewards you by dragging his hand down your stomach to rub your clit. Your whole body convulses into his, hands dragging over his big arms for support. “Come on, sweetheart, cum on my cock now.” 

And you do, the tension in your stomach tightening beyond what you can take, before it finally unfurls, and it blooms, and it’s spring, and your squirting all over Jihoon’s abs, because God, he’s so fucking hot and he fucks you silly with his dumb, big muscles and his dumb, cute face.

The sight of your squirting, thrashing and shaking underneath him is all he needs. Jihoon shoots you full of his cum, making you feel so full and wet, before he finally halts his rutting hips, stilling on top of you. 

You’re both panting. You’re sweating so much, your hair sticks to your forehead, and you’re gasping for air. Jihoon is still on top of you, holding himself up somehow, and licking at your neck appreciatively. 

There’s a pause, where you’re basking in each other's warmth, and there’s so much love between you it’s almost suffocating. Then you're narrowing your eyes at the head of hair in your neck, growing suspicious. 

“... Are you still hard?” 

He laughs into your neck, peering up at you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you still open to that dick-sucking thing?” _____________________________

“So,” Yeri trails off.

You’re sitting in front of her, Seulgi and Irene at the campus cafe after a thorough round of congratulating you and Jihoon’s new relationship. They’d been both surprised and somehow not-at-all-surprised. 

“He can’t come to girls night anymore,” Irene states the obvious, and immediately you, Seulgi and Yeri are nodding along. 

“Thank God, I wasn’t the only one thinking that.” 

“It just wouldn’t work,” you supply, agreeing. 

There’s a pause. Seulgi pouts. “I can’t believe we don’t have a son anymore. They grow up so fast,” she says and she sounds genuinely sad about it.

You sigh a little, debating whether or not to play this card. Then you say: “I know someone who would like to be our son.” 

“Oh, no..”

“Don’t say..” 

“Yep,” you shrug, and then you hear him. Lumbering clumsily down the hall, like a galloping horse. 

“I HEAR THERE’S A NEW POSITION OPEN DURING GIRLS NIGHTS!!!!! I MADE MUFFINS!!”

Mingu is running through the cafe, dodging stools and chairs like he’s on Ninja Warrior. 

Irene frowns. “I guess he’ll do as our new son.” 

“We can always kick him out if he gets too annoying,” Yeri shrugs, just in time for Mingyu to stand before your table with a fresh tray of muffins. 

“Yes!” he cries with glee, voice incredibly high because he just can’t believe it.

“Begging always works!”

[doll-for-you-11]

An aspiring actress getting an audition. But when she shows up the entire set is built and ready. The camera crew is all there and set up, and shes told she has the part.

Shes too dumb to question it and happily runs off to hair and makeup. She finds it a little odd that her costume is a tiny string bikini when the set looked like an office, but again, shes too dumb to really ask.

When she gets back to the set shes told to stand on her mark. The pink T on the floor in the middle of the room.

"But I havent even seen the script? What are my lines?" "Don't worry, its all improv, we want it to feel real"

It makes sense so she does as she's told. Then the director tells her to close her eyes. She does and she hears clattering around her from the crew. But she keeps her eyes closed anyway.

She feels a hand on her chest, she jumps and goes to open her eyes but a hand covers them. The director in her ear. "Keep your eyes closed or you'll ruin the scene"

The hand begins to squeeze and grope, and she feels more hands on her ass and in her hair. She stays quiet as she hears zippers around her. Fingers pulling at the strings on her bikini.

"Is this, is this a sex scene?" She asks innocently, eyes still closed. "Shh, yes, stay in character. You want it, moan, ask for more, improv remember?"

Shes never done a sex scene before so she assumes this has to be how its done. So she listens. She moans and pulls the hands to grab her rougher. "Touch me, please, I need more" she whines, throwing her head back.

The top of the bikini falls to the ground and the hands grope and pinch and pull at her tits. She moans as they twist her nipples, as they harden in the cold air of the studio.

Another voice, not the director this time tells her to open her eyes. She does and realizes that the cameras and boom mikes are all on the floor and the hands on her are the crew.

The director is sitting in a chair right in front of her as the men fondle and rub against her, their cocks out and hard, angry heads dripping precum.

"We haven't cast the rest of the roles yet, this is a practice run, theyre just filling in, don't worry"

The director is slowly rubbing his own cock as well, but what man could resist. She tells herself this just means her performance must be amazing if the director likes it this much.

"Now, the scene is going to get rougher, so just play along and stay in character, remember, you like it, okay?"

She nods and one of the men pushes her to her knees and forces his cock in her mouth. She gags but for fear of losing the part the focuses on her breathing and takes him. Reaching up to jack off two of the other guys.

A fourth kneels in front of her, pressing her tits together and beginning to fuck them. The one in her mouth groans, gripping her hair and face fucking her.

Her eyes roll back, choking on cock, the men using her begin to degrade her. "Dirty fucking slut, choking on cock, surrounded by them? You're loving this arent you bitch" she feels a slap to her face as tears start to fall, but she reminds herself its all fake, its just for a the show.

The man in her mouth finally pulls out and as she gasps for breath her face and mouth are sprayed with his cum. It drips from her lashes and before she can even think another cock is slammed down her throat. The cock between her tits cums too, coating her neck and chest, dripping down her tits.

The cocks in her hands pull away to cum on her ass and face before one is forced into her cunt. "Fuck shes soaked, tight wet whore cunt feels so fucking good, you gonna take me like a good cum dump?"

She tries to nod but cant stop gagging as shes spit roasted between the two cocks. When they both finally pull out, spraying even more cum over her, shes picked up and thrown onto the desk behind them.

One guy pulls her ontop of him, another pulling her ass against him as shes forced onto all fours. "Pause!" The director yells, standing and moving closer. He grabs her chin and forces her mouth open, inspecting her, "you need more before this shot, it needs to drip out of your mouth to look right" he pumps his own cock, cumming against her tongue and lips watching it drip down her chin "perfect, carry on" he returns to his chair as the other men surround her again.

The man under her pulls her down onto his cock as she moans loudly, as her mouth opens a cock fills it and her hands are forcibly wrapped around the two at her sides. She moans as they all find a rhythm but just as she begins to enjoy it and gets close herself the last cock presses against her virgin ass.

Her eyes widen and she tries to pull away but she remembers its just for the show and breathes through the pain as best she can with the cock pumping down her throat.

He bottoms out in her ass and her body begins to shake. As he starts to thrust she cums, screaming around the cock in her mouth. The men laugh and begin thrusting harder.

Her tits are groped hard enough to leave bruises as her face and ass are slapped roughly between thrusts.

It goes on like this for hours, all of them cumming multiple times, the director stepping in to "show how to do something" every once in a while.

By the time he yells cut shes so fucked out she can't even remember her own name. Coated from head to toe in cum, bruised everywhere inside and out.

"Now, that was amazing! You really are a natural!, I've heard from our producers and they finally cast your actual cast mates. So lets get you cleaned up and tomorrow we'll do it all over again!"

She moans softly and nods, unable to speak as the last cock is pulled out of her cunt and she collapses onto the desk under her.

"Just remember, you may be a natural but these guys we've cast will probably need to...practice a bit more so we'll probably have to do all this multiple times, shooting may take a couple months to get right, but youre gonna do great! Just be here again tomorrow morning and we'll get started! And after we get this scene done perfect, the next one involves some...props... you know, rope, toys, whips...so it might take even longer"

She just moans again, feeling loads and loads of cum dripping from her holes, and all she can think about is how excited she is to finally have a real lead role! How lucky is she??

"Yyes Sir, be here tomorrow" she slurs with a smile, cum still dripping from her lips.

As the director and crew leave one of them whispers "what a stupid bimbo, think she'll notice we're the same guys fucking her tomorrow?" "Yeah or that theres no one filming?" "Of course not, the stupid bitch will be way to distracted to notice and by the time she does, she'll be too obsessed with getting raped to care, but...which one of you wants to play director tomorrow? Because I want to actually fuck her this time."

[lexirosewrites]

okay let's hope i don't screw this one up this time haha anyway popping in for a very early slick sunday submission (again) to talk more about my secret pups steddie fic idea because it's on my brain and i need to share.

warning: this is gonna get kinda sad (shocker)

so i think last i mentioned this idea, i talked about eddie finding out he had pups (theyre twins) because one of them is sick. i also mentioned that the other pup still held a fair bit of resentment toward eddie, which he totally thought was valid. i hope that catches us up enough that you know what i'm talking about (and if not i'm sorry)

this time around i wanna say some more on eddie's own resentment, because anyone thrown into this situation would definitely hold some against at least one person.

eddie expects his resentment to be toward steve. this is the man he loved, even if he never really knew how to say it back then. steve kept his own pups from him. all this time, he never told eddie. not until he had to. not until he was desperate, with no other options left. he stole YEARS away from eddie, years he could've been there, watching his pups grow up. instead, eddie is faced with two children that he father, whom he doesn't even know. strangers. and all of that is because of steve.

shockingly, he doesn't hate steve. at least, not nearly as much as he thinks he should. yeah, he's upset. he's mad. part of him wants to spit that steve had no right to keep them from him. but another part of him knows steve. loves steve, still. it reminds him that steve had to have a good reason not to tell him. and it also reminds eddie that he's just as much to blame. he could have come back. he could've told steve how he really felt from the beginning, and he didn't. he never even bothered to call, or write.

no, his biggest resentment lies in his band mates. they were supposed to be his friends. they'd lived together on tour buses on and off throughout the last several years. they stuffed themselves and all their equipment in vans for their first two tours, for fuck's sake. they were his brothers. and they lied to him. they knew, this whole time, that eddie had pups. they kept that from him. eddie doesn't talk to them for weeks when he flies back to indiana. any necessary communication went through their manager. eddie refused to talk to them directly. nothing could override the utter betrayal he felt from them.

and he's so pissed at wayne. his own uncle lied to him and kept this big secret. he got to be there for all the big moments in the twins' lives, and never told eddie a thing. it wasn't fair. unfortunately, eddie didn't have the luxury of avoiding wayne the way he could his band mates. because wayne was there, everywhere, all the time. always checking in. the pups loved him, too, which made it so much harder on eddie. he should have that with his pups, and he doesn't. he's practically a stranger to them, no matter how much steve told them about him. and eddie's not so much of an ass that he would keep that relationship away from his pups. not when wayne had done so much to help steve and the pups. not when the pups loved wayne so much.

it's so conflicting for eddie. he wants to be so mad at everyone, but he can't. not when his little girl is sick, and the doctors still can't figure out what's wrong with her. not when any breath could be her last, and they won't know until it's too late. because she's getting worse, and fast. when eddie had first arrived at the hospital, it was to find steve having a breakdown in the hallway. nurses and doctors and yelling and screaming machines and chaos. eddie's heart stops, thinking he was too late (he's not, i promise). he's not sure he's ever been quite this terrified before then.

i just think about eddie having to face all of these conflicting emotions in the middle of a very stressful time. this is the first time he's met his own pups, and he doesn't know how much time they have together. he doesn't know if his daughter will get better. he's stuck living with the fact that she may not. he may lose her forever, after just starting to get to know her. and of course, he will do everything possible to make sure he doesn't take any of this out on his pups (whether he succeeds at that or not is still up for debate)

i also think there will need to be a LOT of apologies made by multiple parties, and not all of those apologies may be accepted right away. it's a very complex situation, with a lot of complex ways to go about it.

(i would also like to mention that this fic premise is 100% absolutely in the process of becoming a real fic, it's just taking me 800 years to write because i never have any idea where a story is going until it's going there)

-

happy slick sunday :)

(in reference to this post)

happy slick sunday :((((

[slowlysoluminary]

after that wack-tastic piece of media i figured we could all!! use a break!!!!!!! so!!!!!!

(more) doodles below the cut. and some commentary! Hurray!

^^ Post game is interesting. Most of the timeloop is about figuring the deal with the memories, some of it is about sif comng to terms with the king, and the very very end of it is about everyone regaining their memories.

so i say it again post game is REALLY interesting!!! because everyone, collectively, is trying to balance their old memories and their new memories. everyone except siffrin. who is not 1:1 old siffrin but is the closest to it, considering how much loop's been through.

loop??? becomes corporeal at some point in the end.

it's very bittersweet! i think! the whole of the party does an "i want to remember!!!" sequence, fighting with their own minds to fill the gaping holes they'd always ignored.

-- loop, after realizing the extent to which they're familiar with the party, had tried desperately to get the party to remember them throughout the loops. in hopes that something would change. they never remembered.

at the same time, siffrin is talking to the king - they're fighting with eachother physically and verbally, desperately trying to get the other understand. resetfrin is not the siffrin the king hated so earnestly, not the siffrin he tried to snuff out.

over the course of many conversations with the king, siffrin caught on. the king is the major lore dump here and is who causes most of the narrative development because i say so !!!!!!!!!!!!

actually. about post game. do you know why their designs are like that

resetfrin hated the lack of autonomy he had over their own body so they decided to. cut their hair. it's a bit curlier now that there's not a lot weighing it down

they decided not to keep the star stuff the king gave them. yada yada character development or whatever.

they gave their cloak to loop!! who is. siffrin again. physically at least. both siffrins are siffrin but with clear differences! like hair length and hair texture! and ohhhhhhhh no what do you mean the universe gave them the wrong body?? what?????? how cruel!!! how blasphemous!!!!!!!

loop hated the idea of keeping her hair darkless (mirror pronouns for loop btw!!! remember that!!!). it reminded them of what it was like to be ghostloop. which they hated!!! but they couldn't have their hair be lightless because that was resetfrin's new thing, so... they just. kept dying the bottom parts of it lightless. it's a compromise

how does the party distinguish the two siffrins, name-wise? uhhhhhh. ask me that question later. idk.

if.... if i have pre-game planned out. and post-game planned out.

then the inly thing I don't have planned out is the ACTUAL time loop bit

it's quite daunting because? that's like the entire point of the original game? it feels like i hve to live up to so much and like fhe loops have to have such a packed, coherent story

though, to be fair, most of what I'm writing will just be. the time loop bit. so i guess I'm figuring it out as i go

anyway, actually talking about the two sketches above, ghostloop is for SIFFRIN'S EYES ONLY!!! she can hit things but things can't hit her and all that.

after figuring out, through past loops, that the King can't see them, they realized siffrin was their only connection to the physical world. The Last Piece Left of them, physically and metaphorically. the whole time they longed for something else to acknowledge their existence. acknowledge theyre real

they also realize they can do Fuckery

the king has a Sixth Sense for loop's Fuckery,,, flipping him The Bird resulted in a rather quick death for Siffrin. whoops!!!!!

this au is. more closely revolved around gloop than i thought. don't worry!! i have a lot of gloop content planned! but. but you need to understand the pain of resetfrin and the king. the misery snd desperation fhe king felt about his country. siffrin pleading with the king, countlessly, hoping to see some SEMBLANCE of the man he once knew. you need to know the missing pieces the party finds, a hollow feeling settling itself around their hearts. you need to know so bad.

so you'll get gloop content! i am a big fan of the little guy myself, really. but !!! this au is not ONLY about them, believe it or not! hehe. haha. giggles. ok ill stop

[thatneoncrisis]

Curious about your issues with the show!! I have my own ofc but always interested In more opinions

spoilers for like. all of the show el oh el

its hard for me to like. properly articulate on the fly but i think its primarily 1. a show that is genuinely trying to build a complicated structure out of the rusted metal and twigs that makes up LoL lore that gets overhauled every like, four years, so often times it feels like a character in arcane will get hard shafted out of a natural arc so they end up where they "should be" in accordance to their league counterpart.

strongest example i have off the dome is violet, where i think in act 1 of arcane shes a really intriguing and well crafted character whos sympathetic and has goals and values you can follow. and then they shunt her off to prison during the time skip and when she comes out shes like. everything she does from that point on just feels Tilted it feels like they gutted out all the parts that would have gotten me from A to Z wrt her going from scrappy kid in the lanes whos like. direct causes of terror and unhappiness in life were from enforcer. to a bitch who joins the enforcers. and its not that i dont think that turnaround is possible, i just dont think they articulated it well with such a truncated amount of episodes split between so many subplots

and then my main Thing 2. uuuh. this is more of like my own issues with this kind of story telling in general rather than an arcane specific issue that i will codify as "liberal progressives attempt to Both Sides the issue of apartheid in their magic story." the creators of the show emphasized that they wanted each character to be morally grey, differnt shades to them and the motivations contextualizing their actions. which is like, fair enough thats just good character writing but i dont think theyre particularly. great at that. especially when trying to marry it to my earlier point about how certain characters essentially have to invert to become their league analogs in some sense. also someone like ekko? not grey. hes just right? he doesnt fuck with enforcers and he doesnt fuck with the kingpin flooding the lanes with shimmer, he just wants to help the people suffering the most. stand up dude.

theres a lot of different levels to which this clashing between intent and execution falls flat for me in arcane but the one ill get into now is silco and vander. from an objective view its a classic story of two close brothers in arms driven apart by ideology/circumstance, weve seen it with professor xavier and magneto, it also reminded me of tchalla and killmonger although they dont have the childhood friends aspect going for them. but the point is its not like a unique idea. two people want to change the world for the better, one of them starts killing civilians about it, the first guy is like hey! maybe dont do that! epic fall out ensues.

and the story is cognizant of the fact that silco IS an antagonist: not just in the sense that he is opposing our protagonists goals, he sold out the children to the enforcers in the first act, he released shimmer onto zaun and keeps a stranglehold on the city with his circle of chem barons like he fucking sucks. and the whole time im watching im noting how his methods to "free zaun" are like, THE thing destroying it. the streets are rampant with nameless mutated homeless people hooked on shimmer he is directly responsible for. and i was kind of waiting for like. a shift within his circle. if that makes sense. obviously people like violet and ekko and caitlyn dont like him but they never did they dont have to be convinced, but to have someone who initially put all their trust into him as the guy to bring zaun into glory and then slowly have to reckon with the fact theyve propped up a mad man who has prioritized power in himself over the initial goal of liberating the city would have whipped ass.

and then it just didnt happen. theres this fascinating thing going on with silco where hes talking mad shit about the likes of vander, oh hes too softhearted, he will never do what it takes to truly ensure the safety and freedom of the lanes bc he cares too much about his damn babies. and then silco finds himself as caretaker of one of those babies. the show meticulously shows me how he cares for her, he softens for her, he lets her tinker in her silly cave all day and blow up cops with harley quinn bombs. so we have three main things to keep in mind with silco:

his primary stated goal is to free zaun from piltovers repressive rule.

his shimmer production is one of if not The thing actively destroying the lanes

he now has Baby, whos safety has become a growing priority for him.

this culminating in the finale where he is presented with the opportunity to hand her over to the authorities in exchange for zauns independence. now THIS could have been a really interesting internal dilemma for him. he is now faced with the exact choice that led vander to becoming "weak" in his eyes. whats one girls life in exchange for his dream finally becoming a reality. but its also an impossible thing to ask because thats his Daughter. so now hes risking scrutiny from his underlings for being wishy washy. ooh intrigue mystery. youd really need some time to steep on his agonies and what hes really willing to prioritizeat this point in his life

and then none of that happens bc hes immediately kidnapped and shot and never has to seriously consider it. he never has to SACRIFICE he always just. has everything he wants. forever. until he dies. powerful chem baron running the show with his army of teen supersoldiers.

another route i considered them being able to do is something more focused on him and sevika. she left vander to join his cause specifically bc she thought vander was weak. as his right hand, she would do anything for silco, including literally giving up her fucking arm when she saved him from the blast in act one. timeskip, now we see she has a fun new mech arm powered by silcos own shimmer, which we are shown the side effects of time and time again. i thought this was leaning into a metaphor about how her emotional dependence on him and his cause was being represented by a chemical dependence on shimmer. like its destroying her physically and mentally but she NEEDS it to work out to know it wasnt all for nothing so shell put up with whatever sketchy bullshit hes got going on, the ends justify the means. and we get like six detailed shots of shimmer being pumped directly into her body i thought for sure they were gonna be like oh this is fucking killing her, like a compound v situation

but shes like. fine. theres no side effects besides a cool scar. shes chilling.

i also thought her antagonistic dynamic with jinx was going somewhere. like if sevika noticed that silco was putting her above what needed to be done for the sake of liberating zaun, and noticing how it mirrored how vander became "weak" and getting that much more pissed about playing second fiddle to a 17 year old. like imagine you get that whole scene where sevika makes it look like shes gonna execute silco, then murders the chem baron who asked her to do it because she trusts him THAT much, then later she hears about jayce's offer to silco and sees him GENUINELY considering leaving the offer on the table JUST for jinx. sorry if i was her id snap. id go crazy id start a coup.

so basically what im saying is. lotta different options to make the characters richer and more grey as they struggle with what they really care about. but the story just kind of shuffles past them and then insists that the bonds were there the whole time you guys jinx and sevika are totally besties now shes a symbol of zaun <3

[girlscoutbrownies]

sbg headcanons!

(i had to put a title because it keeps just showing up as “aiden” in my notifs)

some of my favourite school bus graveyard headcanons! (in celebration of 101 followers) some are mine, some belong to other people that i’ve taken as well

these got really, really long so ill split it into two parts: aiden, tyler, and taylor for this post and ashlyn, ben, and logan will be in the next

——

aiden

(bit of a tw for disassociation around the end)

- uses he/any pronouns, he mostly doesn’t give a fuck. also doesn’t care if you stick to he/him because he likes it. he also tries out mirror pronouns every once in a while and flipflops between any

- unlabelled energy. also doesn’t care abt that type of stuff, but he’s asexual and it takes him a while to grow feelings. he’s afraid of letting people close to him but it really doesn’t matter to him, not that much. he’s pretty apathetic about it

- generally smells like shittily applied cedarwood cologne. it’s one of those cheap drugstore brands and sometimes he forgets to apply it in the morning, and he doesn’t spray it very well. also smells like grass sometimes

- his favourite subject is psychology/maths/anything logic based (he likes those puzzles). growing up with his bitchass karen mom who probably twisted all the words he said, he doesn’t like cryptic or vague language or poetry (english class) because it reminds him of her. in math, there’s only one answer. in english, there’s hundreds. also the words swim on the paper and he finds it hard to focus

- he has his ears pierced. he begged his parents to take him to an ear piercing studio they just ended up taking him to claire’s but he was still so happy about it

- he BEGGED for a dog or a pet when he was very little but eventually stopped at some point. he asked for stuffed animals and never got any because “it would be too hard to keep track of when we’re moving and you would lose them and get sad” and he’s still very upset about it. used to hug like three pillows when he slept

- he was told they were settling down in georgia and now his current room has millions of stuffed animals i will not hear any arguments about this

- he’s a kicker in his sleep (when he gets any). he kicks plushies off his bed like all the time, he’s not apologetic though he’s just like “oh shit”

- worst and best guy to have a sleepover with. super clingy

- he knows very few actual life skills other than operating a microwave for frozen meals because he largely grew up alone without his parental figures in his life. ashlyn and tyler eventually teach him how to cook

- his growth is stunted bc of that period in his life and he’s short like ashlyn

- he is a HORRIBLE gossip addict. they’ll be sitting at the lunch table eating in silence and he drops “did you hear that samantha’s parents are divorced and madison dropped her bc samantha’s mom doesn’t drive them to the mall anymore” like HUH WHERE DID YOU HEAR THIS?

- he gets school lunch and very rarely (if ever) brings lunch from home. sometimes ben makes him lunches

- plays with his food (this is canon) but he makes storylines out of whatever he does its like his personal roman empire

- big fan of extreme foods (spicy, sour, etc) ((he grew up eating plain ramen)) and loves weird food combinations. everyone always makes weird faces at him when theyre at the mall and he orders weird shit

- he doesn’t know proper meal etiquette until someone has to tell him, his parents didn’t teach him anything (I HATE THEM)

- he’s a really bad cook like ben because he always ends up getting distracted, and somehow manages to skip over steps in the recipes.

- he probably likes cooking shows though and is like “yeah i could do that” (he can’t do that)

- the first time someone (tyler) made aiden a homecooked meal he started cry laughing (it was mostly crying) (nobody talks about it)

- the few times his mom has made him meals whenever she’s home they’re really bad. they don’t taste anything like home, but he didn’t know what home tasted like so he just cried. his mom thought it was because of how good it was (it wasn’t) and he just cried harder

- he dislikes bitter flavours, especially like, orange juice that you make from scratch but you don’t put any sugar in it (it’s because his mom once tried to make homemade orange juice/lemonade to feel more like a “real mom” and it was horrible

- he’ll still eat bitter food though he just wouldn’t like it that much

- likes crunchy food or food that pops in your mouth (poprocks) bc he thinks its cool

- probably needs glasses from how long he’s spent staring at screens (his backstory)

- the one thing his parents consistently did as a kid was take him to his doctors appointments so he has stellar teeth

- he’s fit and fairly athletic (jumping off walls and all) but he doesn’t play sports because he just. isn’t interested in any of it. he tries everything but nothing really sticks that much

- he eats his greens but probably wouldn’t care much for the healthy vegan lifestyle, not that much of a picky eater (this part is canon)

- his favourite holiday is halloween because 1. candy (which he didn’t get much as a kid unless he specifically asked for it or ben brought it over) and 2. he loves dressing up it’s so fun to him

- understimulation is the BANE of his existence he genuinely wants to tear out his own hair every time he gets like that. gets really irritated

- he disassociates a lot, generally experiences a lot of derealization. he doesn’t feel like he’s in his own body sometimes

- insomniac

- chases thrills so that he can “feel” something. doesn’t care if it hurts him or not, because at least then he’ll remember he’s a real person and that his life matters

- really bad at telling when people are lying/are irritated with him. he just keeps pushing until they explode

- good with secrets (his own) but isn’t good at deflecting if asked about someone else’s. he’s just like “ummm. would u look over there. a bird!”

- runs really fast, he wakes up early in the morning to take a walk around the neighborhood. he sometimes encounters tyler if he happens to go into his city (which is often, because he doesn’t like being in his house)

- his house is always really cold, which is why he tends to run really warm (his body is compensating). he knows how to turn the ac off, but it always ends up turning back on in the middle of the night

- he grew up learning The Gifted Child instrument; the piano. he dislikes classical music (he says it’s boring but it’s because of this). he also almost got forced to learn the violin but he once practiced so hard his fingers started bleeding which is how he got out of it

- likes verbal validation bc his parents never told him they were proud of him

taylor

- she/they cis demigirl, gets a bit upset at being misgendered though (people think she’s the transfem twin because tyler passes really well)

- bisexual fem pref

- decorates her locker for almost every occasion. halloween, christmas, easter, birthdays. also decorates other people’s lockers for their birthdays before school starts with sticky notes

- has tons of stuff in her locker (except food because tyler won’t let her) just in case anyone needs anything but she’s not very organized so she doesn’t know where anything is

- because of this she’s one of those people that barely makes it to the door before the bell rings but she’s trying to fix that habit

- enjoys crime documentaries/true crime, horror stuff. used to make tyler watch with her but his anxiety gets really bad and he started getting paranoid

- adores christmas bc it’s a family holiday she makes tyler and her mom homemade gifts every year

- loves dogs with every bone in her body she asks santa for one every year but alas. tyler always has to write “a letter from santa” back saying they ran out of dogs at the north pole

- uses emoticons like “:D :] :3” all the time when she types, downloaded a bunch of sticker packs too. especially cat ones

- had her future all planned out as a kid and told her dad she’d be a mechanical engineer and build trains and rockets to bring him places when he started getting really sick and couldn’t move anymore

- her hair is actually kind of dry (compared to aiden’s or ashlyn’s) because they couldn’t afford great shampoo or anything

- has an ehh skincare routine and doesn’t care much for her fashion sense, just wears whatever’s comfortable

- knows a lot of random facts as conversation starters, she’s surprisingly good at small talk ( + comforting people)

- gossips with aiden aallll the time bc she’s super sociable and knows lots of people who tell her secrets. she doesn’t tell any of the important ones but just little drama things

- her and aiden are bffs

- really likes kids because they’re funny, she has a big imagination like them so it’s easy for her to play with them

- she’s a swiftie and whenever someone asks her if she likes taylor swift as a joke bc of her name she says “i like all music!” (she loves tswift)

- really likes sweets over most types of food, she’s healing her inner child guys

- has always ALWAYS wanted to go to a circus/carnival/festival when she was younger, but they couldn’t afford tickets. she still has that dream but she obviously has bigger priorities now…

tyler

- transmale he/him

- doesn’t care that much about dating, he actually doesn’t think about it that much until he meets The Gang. he always too busy taking care of his family to bother with relationships

- dislikes heavy meals, eats in small portions. it’s a habit

- used to be a picky eater but isn’t anymore, when he was younger they struggled to put food on the table so

- he’s like tigris from ballad of songbirds and snakes; when he prepared food for the family he’d eat bits and pieces of it while cooking. eats raw meat sometimes but once got sick from it so never again because he doesn’t want people taking care of him

- he HATES being sick. HATES HATES HATES it, hates having to burden people

- stress cooks because he likes having things to do with his hands. he also runs laps/paces around when he’s stressed

- runs his hands through his hair so it’s always messy

- he doesn’t bother combing his hair unless it’s for a special occasion like the first day of school, he just doesn’t care that much

- gets up early like aiden to keep up his physical fitness, doesn’t stray far though because his mom wakes up around the same time he does

- is VERY punctual. will be furious if someone makes plans and then is late. always arrives somewhere like, fifteen minutes early. he’s trying to break taylor’s habit of being late

- occasionally scolds taylor about how messy her locker is

- is extremely (and kind of scarily) meticulous. clean backpack, clean locker, clean room. it’s a habit

- book smart and figures things out pretty easily. he has an internal computer inside his head i swear. latches onto concepts very quickly

- likes math because he’s good at memorizing concepts but biology is his worst enemy, he gets queasy very easily

- motion sickness

- doesn’t actually have a set plan for the future, other than “help his family.” will probably do something related to sports (sports scholarship) or will do something math/analytical related

- spams people when they don’t respond to him but quits eventually (semicanon)

- has some sort of separation anxiety i swear he does

- keeps every single promise he makes because he hates broken promises (his dad told him he’d be fine and out of the hospital soon), he also doesn’t make a lot of promises

- dislikes nicknames like “champ” and “buddy”

- he’s ambidextrous

- he always seems to be like, tense? can’t relax at all. it might be because of his anxiety (HE HAS ANXIETY)

- only ever relaxes if he’s at home

- rarely watches television, he says it’s a waste of time (he always gets distracted and gets up and goes to do something else) he can leave it in the background though

- i think he has chronic pain, i don’t know where but i just think he does. everything just aches sometimes and he’s so young fuck life

- he’s okay with kids like his sister, not as good as her but he’ll take care of them (habit x37362828) he’d probably say everything really monotone though “there’s santa claus, wow.”

- he and taylor both have a pretty strong southern accent from living in middle of nowhere georgia (i think someone made an art post on this a while back :D)

- is really bad at video games because he gets frustrated easily

- he grinds his teeth when he sleeps and has jaw pain what a loser

[kiatheinsomniac]

𓏲𝄢 ˚ : · Hello! Dunno if youre comfortable with anon asks since it wasnt stated in your requests thingy, but I was wondering if you could do Undertaker (Black butler) with F! Reader who used to work with him when he was still a grim reaper (shes still a grim reaper) and the only times they meet again is trough coffee dates 😭 where they talk about things theyre doing now and sometimes reminisce about their time together back then. So sorry if its too sappy 🥲 –anon ✧ ˚ 　· 　　    .

──── 𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄 ˊˎ - ☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Undertaker | Adrian Crevan x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none

You sit down opposite your old friend, in all black as usual. The two of you still occasionally meet up for tea or coffee and cake despite him having abandoned the profession in which you met many years ago. As of late, he’s still caused quite a stir amongst your colleagues though and you’ve been itching to meet with him in secret again like this. 

“How is it you’ve been gone all these years and yet your name is on everyone’s lips as of late, hm?~” You ask with a smile as you sit in the little corner of the café where you two like to meet regularly, earning a delighted chuckle from him in response. He looks different now from when you first met him: he’s more mindful to keep a low profile, his hair hides his eyes that otherwise pierce with an almost radium-like glow to them. Humans may not recognise it but any reaper like you would know his true nature in an instant. It reminds you to push your own glasses up your nose a little. 

“Perhaps they’re all just reluctant to outright admit that they miss the humour I brought to the job.” He suggests with a sly smile on his lips that seem to ever be upturned in a grin or open with laughter. 

“I don’t know about Will and Ronald but I certainly miss you.” Your reply is fond but tinged with a note of sadness. Despite the chaos he’s stirred in his retirement, he’s still a legend amongst your kind, but before he was a legend, he’s always been your best friend. He was there to put a smile on your face when your longing for death was cruelly returned with an immortal life of bringing death but never receiving it. It was a long time ago and you’ve since grown used to your new lifestyle but you know adjusting would have been far more difficult if not for his company. 

“You know my door is always open to you, y/n.” He replies as he picks up a biscuit which he dips into his tea. As tempting as the offer is, you shake your head. Living forever is difficult, and living forever without a set purpose even moreso; you’re not yet prepared to risk losing what you already have when you’ve lost so much to begin with. 

“Perhaps one day but that day won’t come soon, I’m afraid.” A waiter comes and sets a plate down in front of you which Undertaker had ordered for you ahead of your arrival. It’s your favourite dessert to order from here and that only makes you smile happily to yourself. You pick up the fork to take a bite. He shrugs and leans back in his seat. 

“Very well. I have forever to wait after all.” You can’t help but laugh softly at his words, at how he’ll always be there for you – it’s kind and sweet, so unlike how everyone at work is currently describing him, like a part of him only you seem to know. 

“Besides, I’m doing what I can for you from my side, you know? They’re all looking for you, Grell in particular seems quite upset. Something about her face?” You shake your head. She’s a vain one but all reapers seem to have their quirks, yourself included. Maybe death just does that to you. “Either way, I’ve been doing my best to keep them off your trail.” The Undertaker laughs at the thought of Grell having a vendetta against him for injuring her in a fight. 

“Well you have my thanks.” He replies, taking your hand across the table. His skin is as cold as yours when his thumb brushes over your knuckles. 

“So what’s your grand plan with these dolls of yours anyway?” You quiz as you take another bite of your dessert. “And how do you plan on keeping that brat and his demon off your back? I’ve heard he’s quite tenacious despite his young age.” 

“Well it would ruin the fun if I told you everything. Ciel might have cut my experiment short but it was a success nonetheless. And his demon shouldn’t be too much hassle so long as he’s concerned about the safety of his master.” The Undertaker replies. “But enough about that, how’s Ronald been handling all that extra paperwork?” He laughs at the thought of the defeated reaper having to document and clean up the mess he made upon the Campania. You roll your eyes.

“He’s not moving quick enough for Will’s liking and so Will is making it everyone else’s problem. You’re lucky we’re friends or else I’d hand you in myself if only to put an end to the papers on my desk that are giving me a headache.” You huff, a hint of playfulness to your voice, “Even reaping souls isn’t as exciting without you by my side, you know?” The two of you used to work so closely, examining reels and sharing queries about how they worked, observing the lives that faded at the blades of your death scythes. 

“All the more reason to come join me, dear~” He chimes. You sigh. It’s not that you don’t want to, just that it’s not the right time.

“Perhaps once things have settled down and we have a plan in place. If I leave, there;s be no one left to cover for us as I’m doing for you.” The fact he’s brought it up a second time makes you wonder if he misses you more than he’s letting on. You know he’s a man who lives his immortal life for curiosity and laughter, not one to be caught too deeply in sadness – not openly at least. 

“Well, until that time comes-” He lifts his cup to you in a sort of toast, “-we have an eternity of these days ahead of us while we wait.” You smile softly and raise your own cup too. You miss him dearly, your immortality no longer the same without his company.

One day you’ll work side by side again. 

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ comms. ∘ taglist ∘ follow/reblog

🏷️@writing-noah  @singleteapot @asianbutnotjapanese @kingheinrey @danielle-marie @yourfamilyfriendsatan @firagirl @weasleytwins-41 @the-fandoms-georgie @lunaluvvie @ghxul-x @sarah22447 @midgetdemon17

[asterinthesiren]

THEORIES and THOUGHTS: BILLY

With 4-ish days left for the next episode, finally, here is my long-overdue post about my insights about Episode 6! Also this is going to be a three parter, because as I'm writing this I realize that it is too much for a single post to consolidate all of my theories LMAO

Of course special mention to @justmonty because without her none of these theories would have been cooked at all

Part 1 Billy | Part 2 Agatha | Part 3 Trial and Next Ep

Alright HERE WE GO!

Ok, so first off, our gen-z son of a bitch himself, Billy. His reveal was so iconic but it confused the hell out of me because if HE IS Billy Maximoff, is he the reincarnated version or did Billy survive the hex and got adopted somewhere else?

Both is possible because in MoM, Wanda couldn't find him... which makes sense since Agatha said that a sigil put on someone hides that person from the sigil caster (if the sigil caster fits the requirements of the sigil), so the sigil would hide him from Wanda too. So this is what I think:

Wanda might have put a sigil on Billy, even BEFORE everything happened: as soon as she started suspecting that another witch was in the hex (which could be when she started suspecting Monica or as soon as Pietro didn't make sense). HOWEVER, it could also be when Billy and Tommy were tucked into bed that last time when Wanda was shrinking the hex down, when she already confirmed that Agatha existed (and other witches by proxy).

SO IT WOULD MAKE SENSE THAT SHE WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO FIND THEM IN THIS UNIVERSE NOW BC SHES CONVINCED THAT THEYRE GONE IN THIS UNIVERSE.

so it's either: billy's soul, that still has the sigil, reincarnated into a new body OR billy survives for some reason and lives a new life; i mean even the fact that he was just living in Eastview (which he mentioned before his voice was muted), so incredibly near the hex is very telling of his origins from the get-go, and adds both more clues and more mystery to how he came to be.

which leads me to how Agatha figured out that Billy was Wanda's kid, rather than hers (of course the prerequisite here is that Rio tells her this). There are two prevailing theories, both of which are possible (and may coincide):

When Billy says Nicholas Scratch's name, the sigil doesn't work--which is the biggest dead giveaway that he wasn't Nicky. Because yes, Billy asked about what really happened to Agatha's son, but that doesn't really say anything because we don't know how much the sigil is censoring. If he was Nicholas Scratch, would the sigil block out his memories of Agatha too? So when the sigil lets him say Nicky's name, Agatha confirms that it's not him. By virtue of elimination, the only other young witch that could have been powerful enough or reckless enough to do anything like what Teen's been doing is Billy, and Agatha concludes this because Billy Maximoff would have an agenda. But that raises a question: if Billy wanted to take revenge on Agatha, why free her from the distorted spell in the first place? He could have just messed with her in the spell rather than freeing her.

When Agatha absorbs Alice's powers, her affinity for sensing spells and magic comes back. She said in Wandavision that she went into the hex because she felt the afterglow of so many spells being casted all at once, so it's possible that after absorbing Alice's powers, she sensed the power hidden in Teen and found it incredibly similar to Wanda's. From there, it doesn't take much to put two and two together.

With that in mind, after Agatha goads him into revealing his true power (more on that later), it's finally revealed that he has more or less the same magic that Wanda has, or at least an affinity for the same reality-bending, mind-control power that she had. NOW I POSIT YOU THIS:

(thank you to @justmonty for sending me this!)

Billy was always the catalyst of every trial so far. And let me remind you what he said when he first went into the road:

"It looks just like I pictured it."

SO, DOES THAT MEAN that he has a hand in what the road looks like? If he has the same or similar powers to Wanda, could he have made the road or manipulated it? What's the extent of his control here? Is it possible that he created a hex-like spell similar to Wanda's in the Witches' Road? I mean, he's so knowledgeable about the Road that there is a big chance that he can manipulate the things in it.

However, I come back to my earlier point: I genuinely don't think he's entirely in the know, because if his main motive is to fuck with Agatha, then why free her from the spell in the first place? What is he playing at? If he is the one controlling the trials, what does he have to gain from it? How much does he know?

I am very excited about the next episode, because as things stand now, it looks like the next episode will be from his perspective--or at least the story will follow him more than they will the others.

Those are my thoughts on Billy, Agatha and next episode coming next!

EDIT: This post speculating that Billy killed Sharon also 1) makes so much sense with the theory that he's somehow controlling the Road 2) fits in the evidence that he does have an agenda against Agatha because of Wanda. I mean, Sharon's entire trauma was about Wanda, so what if Billy killed her because of his fucked up belief that Wanda is perfect and sinless? MUCH TO THINK ABOUT

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PROPAGANDA

ALEX DEWITT (DC COMICS)

1.) The term “fridging” is literally based on Alex and what happened to her. She was killed off violently by a bad guy trying to get at her boyfriend only a couple issues after she was introduced (making it obvious they only brought her in to kill her off for shock value). Her death did very little to the narrative other than hurt her boyfriend Kyle and was done in an exceedingly horrifying and violent way. (Bad guy came to the door with flowers and threatening note, broke in and attacked her, choking her to death, before [off panel] chopping her body up and sticking it in the refrigerator as a “surprise” for her boyfriend. This obviously is really fucked up and she deserves better and should win this actually (a vote for Alex is a vote for all fridging victims [in spirit])

2.) It doesn’t get much worse than being the character whose death originated the “fridging” trope. In Green Lantern Vol. 3 #54, Kyle Rayner comes home to find that Alexandra, his girlfriend, has been killed by the villain Major Force and stuffed into the refrigerator.

Alexandra DeWitt is the character whose misogynistic treatment coined the term where a character, usually female, is killed off purely to make the main character, usually male, feel bad. Even if there are other characters who have been subjected to similar levels of misogyny, Alexandra DeWitt’s treatment has been essentially immortalized.

3.) I know she’s not going to win but shout out to my home girl, literally the trope namer for women shoved in fridges. All anyone ever knows about her is that she was Kyle’s girlfriend and got murdered for his character development, even though she had plenty of potential to be her own character.

AMBER VOLAKIS (HOUSE MD)

1.) Holy shit thank you for reminding me about Amber. Her nickname that almost everyone calls her to her face every day is Cutthroat Bitch. When she & Wilson start dating there are so so so many jokes about her keeping his balls in her purse & having him whipped & etc etc just bc she’s assertive & confident. & then the whole two-part episode where they fridge her (which is. not quite house’s fault directly but he definitely contributed to it) they make it completely about house & wilson & maybe 2% about HER. I’m still mad forever

2.) After being fridged, she does show up in later seasons! As a hallucination. She shows back up to be the devil on House’s shoulder when he is hurtling towards a vicodin-induced breakdown. Literally only shows up to steer him into making bad decisions (including almost killing Chase (allergic to strawberries) by inviting him to a party where the stripper is wearing strawberry scented lotion that sends him into anaphylaxis)

3.) im so glad someone else submitted amber because she fits so well for this poll but i couldnt get my words out right but im going to try again anyway. i think an important aspect of how ambers character is treated and written for the audience has to do with if a man did what she did, hed be opportunistic and ambitious, if not a bit of an ass, but because shes doing it it makes her ‘bitchy’. “cutthroat bitch” “coldhearted bitch” etc is practically her canon alias at this point by how much she is referred to that way rather than her name. she is probably the most humanized out of wilson’s canon relationships and its mostly because theyre paralleling her to house. she deserved so much better she deserved the world and more

[dyns33]

Only Wastelands part 5

So here last part of my first Cooper Howard series ! I hope you guys liked it.

Tag : @one-of-thewalkingdead @coolrobloxkid28 @thebumbqueen @rachmari @ilyvia @justme12200 @honeybunhottie @savanahc @gobbodoggo @bisasterbisexual @killingboredom @bonafideyapper @i-simp-for-mha-men @pixelatedprofilepic @ultimatreality @chattersstuff @harmfulb1tch @hellolettuce444 @miketastic25 @darkangel4121 @avidreadee123 @kaitttttttt @nullx1ety @foggyturtleknightangel (theyre you gooo)

If they had learned one thing about each other during their time together, it was that Cooper and Y/N were both stubborn fuckers.

As he held her tightly with his rope, chewing the inside of his mouth as he waited for her to speak, she stared at him with a hateful look, refusing to open the ball.

Of course, her first reaction had been to try to flee. An instinctive survival reaction, as stupid as it was useless, because he was a pro with his lasso. Y/N had no chance of escaping, especially since he could easily knock her down or shoot her before she could free herself.

So there they were, staring at each other in silence, with a tension that could cut with a knife.

It may have been because they were at risk of being interrupted by raiders, radroaches, or Lucy who might wonder where they were, but the Ghoul ended up sighing and grimacing.

"What do you want then ?"

"… What do you mean ?"

"You must want something, to show up after three fucking years with my daughter, sweetheart. You probably knew that I would shoot between your two pretty eyes the moment I would see you in thanks for leaving me behind, so you needed a little sugar in your bitter request. Spit it out."

It was Y/N's turn to grimace, not understanding the situation.

Cooper Howard was angry. Cooper Howard claimed that she wanted something, and that she was the one who had left him three years ago, giving him the right him to be furious with her.

It made no sense.

"Don't kid me !" she exclaimed, making him jump slightly. "You're the one who left me !"

"Sorry, sweetie, but I was there, I know…"

"Oh, no, no good excuses. I heard you very well with your new friends at the bar ! I'm not totally stupid even if I come out of a vault, I know when I'm not wanted anymore, you were very clear ! So the little doggie left you alone ! I never wanted to see you again, but I met my replacement, then I found Janey, and I couldn't leave her, so… Let me go now ! I don't want anything, let me go !"

Y/N started to move again to try to remove the lasso, and this time Cooper didn't move to stop her. This made her react, and instead of finishing freeing herself to run as far as possible, she turned her attention back to him.

The hatred seemed to have disappeared. He was looking at her now with something akin to pain.

"… You heard that ?" he whispered.

"Yeah ! So stop whining, cowboy, you're not the victim !"

"… Looks like we're both victims of my talent."

"… What ?"

As much as he hated being reminded of it, Cooper Howard had been an actor. A damn good one, no matter what the critics might have said.

He hadn't lied to Don Pedro's men when they started threatening him, willing to torture him for days just for the fun of it. Coop didn't care at all. To him, he was long dead, it made no difference.

Then they talked about doing the same to Y/N. The little vaultie who had been hanging out with him for a while. They had seen them together, the Ghoul seemed to care about her, it would be fun to tie her to a chair so he could watch them do whatever they wanted to her.

So Cooper had put on his best actor's mask, saying that they were wrong. Y/N was nothing to him. They could waste their time looking for her if they wanted, or they could do like him and enjoy a good drink.

It was proof that she was worthless, right ? That the Ghoul was at the bar sipping a whiskey instead of looking for her, while she was at risk of getting killed in the wasteland.

The truth was that Cooper had taken a bad bullet in the leg and despite his efforts, he had been unable to lose Don Pedro's men. It was too risky to look for Y/N in these conditions.

So he had tried to buy time, for her as well as for him, even if he didn't know if they would make it.

"In the end, they put me in a coffin and buried me alive."

"Coop…"

"The first few months, I waited. I told myself that you were waiting for the right moment to come and help me, hidden somewhere. They would end up guarding my hole with less seriousness. Then I thought that you had had a problem. I didn't like thinking about that, sugar. I didn't like what it could mean. And then, there was the third option, presented by Don Pedro the last time he took me out to play. He said that you had been seen nearby. And I said to myself, he's kidding, because if my Y/N was alive, she would have come. Right ? She would have come, she would have tried to free me. So I didn't believe him. I didn't want to believe him."

Keeping this certainty, the Ghoul had taken the road to find the witch Moldaver without trying to find information on Y/N. Either she was dead, and the last bit of his humanity would have died with her after he lost Janey, or she had abandoned him, and the result would be the same, if not worse.

"But actually… You didn't know, sweetie. You didn't know about the coffin, and you thought I was a heartless asshole who had made fun of you. I'm still a little disappointed, you could have understood that I wasn't serious."

Three years. They had wasted three years, him in a hole, and her wandering the wastelands, hating each other, as much as they missed each other, because Cooper was a good liar who didn't talk enough, and Y/N was a nervous vaultie who needed to be talked to.

"… Shit. Cooper, shit, I'm sorry."

"Nah, sweetheart. You would have come if you had known, even after hearing me. Just to kick my ass, I guess. And you brought me back my little cowpoke, when you didn't want to see me anymore."

"I would never have left her. I wouldn't have left you…"

"I know." he sighed, lowering his head. "The Mohave sun must have burned a few of our neurons, huh ?"

Y/N imitated him, ashamed. If she had arrived earlier, maybe Cooper would have seen her, he would have made a sign to let her know he was going to try something, and they would have found each other.

And if she had stayed despite the pain, she would have seen him being tortured and put in the ground, and she could have done something.

But the "what ifs" were easy. It was too late now, she hadn't trusted him despite everything he had done for her.

Still tied up, she was able to pull the picture out of her bag, biting her lip to keep from sobbing like a child.

"… You want me to give this back ?"

"… You kept it? All this time ?"

"Sure. It's stupid, I was hoping you'd come back for it eventually, like you said you would. Then I could have kicked your ass. And… It reminded me of the good times."

"Hmm. I'll take it back, yeah. You won't need it anymore."

She was about to throw it at him, or set it on the ground so he could take it later, but with a quick movement, Cooper pulled the lasso, quickly pulling her towards him.

With intense eyes, he took the picture from her hands, stared at it for a moment, before putting it in her pocket.

"Here. Where it belongs."

"The sun really fried your brain then."

"Nah, sweetie, I feel perfectly fine."

"You just said I wouldn't need it anymore."

"I don't plan on losing you again, so you don't need it anymore, no."

Stubborn, but mostly stupid, they started looking at each other in silence again, but the tension was different this time. Y/N could feel her heart beating in her chest, and judging by the Ghoul's breathing, Cooper's couldn't be any better.

However, when she took the risk of approaching her mouth, he recoiled.

"… Radiation, sugar."

"I have radaway."

"Vicious." he purred with a smirk.

"Idiot. And I thought you were the romantic type, you have to ruin this moment that I…"

The last time Y/N had kissed someone, she was still in school. The bombs hadn't exploded, there were birds in the sky, and she was far too young to know if it really mattered.

She clung to Cooper like her life depended on it, like each kiss was a breath of fresh air that she had been missing for over three years. His hat fell off, but he didn't seem to mind, too busy devouring her mouth.

"Daddy's in love ! Daddy and Y/N are in love !"

The little voice surprised Y/N, while the Ghoul placed one last kiss on her cheek before sighing, keeping her in his arms as he turned to Janey, beaming with a smile, who was jumping up and down as she watched them.

A bit further away, they could see Lucy circling the building, probably looking for the little girl she had lost. One would have thought that she was not a good babysitter, but in fact it was the kid who was good at escaping the vigilance of adults.

A good thing for Lucy, otherwise her father could have killed her for that, making her regret having entrusted her while he caught up with Y/N.

Still with one arm on her waist, Cooper indicated for Janey to come towards them, lifting her with the other.

"It's late, my sweet Cowgirl, time for you to sleep so you have enough energy to wear out young MacLean tomorrow."

"Yeah !"

They could have said goodbye to Lucy the next day. After all, Cooper's priorities were Janey and Y/N now. Revenge was still tempting, finding Barbara, making VaultTech pay for their crimes, but it didn't matter as much anymore.

However, he had promised the vaultie that they would find her father, and if possible her boyfriend Maximus.

And as his daughter and Y/N reminded him with a mischievous smile, cowboys always kept their word. The Ghoul rolled his eyes and growled, but since he couldn't really say no to them, or only by shouting 'no' while knowing that they would follow them anyway, the team set off again towards the main bucker.

Then when it was all over, they would find a quiet little spot, in the middle of the wasteland, far from all this bullshit, taking things as they came.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Can you write the TADC cast with a male ballet dancer reader? The reader experiences gender dysphoria 24/7 because they look very feminine and all that.

TADC cast x male!ballet dancer!reader w/ dysphoria

back to finishing up the current line up of requests!! reminder that im only doing requests that have been sent in prior to them being closed! any requests that are sent in while theyre still closed will not be taken and will be deleted so i can keep track of what was sent before closing; its nothing against any of yall and you guys can resend your stuff when they are reopened (i will make it very obvious when they are so dw!!) on a different note i could have sworn i did a cast request with a reader who does ballet; but i guess it was only for jax and i was confusing the group request for the ballora type! reader from this morning huh anyways!! i hope you enjoy this anon! quick warning that i know literally nothing about ballet so im

CAINE:

i think he enjoys a bunch of art forms; from music stuff to dance stuff to painting stuff, this man has taste. i think he would give you a bunch of outfits for you to wear and swap around that fits your aesthetic. bro would give you a whole walk in closet. as for dysphoria, i think he would do a similar thing with jax and reinforce how masculine you are to him, usually through affirmations, but he also shows it through just being there for you, bro is not only your number one fan but hes also your biggest supporter

POMNI:

i am yet again stumped on what to put in for pomni, since i think pomni is. bad at comforting people. very awkward, do not go to her for advice she will fumble so bad. now its not like shes not trying, but i think she would be all over the place trying to cover everything that could possibly help you; perhaps you two ultimately settle on cuddling one another... if this werent the digital world you two would probably put on a movie to take your mind off of it. as for her thoughts on ballet! i think she would find it neat, similar to jax she would have a form of respect for it!

RAGATHA:

she thinks it looks pretty, the dancing! she wouldnt know all the history or more in depth parts of it but she would watch you practice if you allowed her too... i think she would make you a binder, if your digital body causes any gender dysphoria for you.. though now that i type this i recall it being said that the characters clothing being stuck to their body.. so maybe she would just make you clothing thats more masculine as well? im not sure on this one!

JAX:

doing jax first since he already got a similar post and i can use it as a basis; ive said this in that post as well as the ballora one but i think he would at least appreciate the dedication and hard work that goes into ballet... to like, fully commit to something like that impresses him you know? as for dysphoria, i think he would make it a point to call you more masculine terms. hes gonna be trying his best to try to help you with your dysphoria in the way that best helps you. lays off on his teasing on days where its worse

KINGER:

i am yet again distraught that i do not have many ideas for kinger this time, which is sad because hes my favorite character and i can relate so hard to the dysphoria thing... thinks.. probably throws all of his knowledge at you. i mean hes been in the circus for a while, hes probably seen at least a few people come and go; and sure what are the odds that he has some experience helping someone fight through their dysphoria... a boy can dream! takes you to his pillow fort and lets you stay for as long as you want

probably sits and watches you dance on a makeshift pillow thrown. claps when you're done, probably throws roses... i think caine would throw roses too except he would throw way more simply because he can literally. manifest as many as he wants

ZOOBLE:

i dont usually like sharing my lgbt hcs about characters out of fear that it would be met with discourse but if i recall correctly zooble doesnt really have a gender/a set one (if im wrong correct me!) so they understand the dysphoria thing; i think they would offer to let you hang out in your room and vent your feelings out. probably tries to give advice on how to feel better in general if you want advice, but if you want comfort theyre gonna do your best to give it to you. i dont think zooble would have much of an opinion on ballet; neither negative or positive, simply knowing thats its an art form! supports you if it makes you happy, though!

GANGLE:

while not the same thing, i like to think gangle used to do ribbon dancing in the real world... because... ribbon girl. see look im so so creative

but also i think it looks pretty

so you guys can bond over your hobbies! you might have to pry gangle to open up and talk about her interest in it, assuming she picks it up again in the digital world! as for dysphoria, i think gangle would be like zooble in terms of lending you some support; offers to help distract you if you dont want to tackle the issue at that point in time. i dont know about you, but sometimes i just, dont want to deal with my own dysphoria, but perhaps thats just a me thing

[madebyteenagefury]

What do you think about Trina in Falsettos??

what do i think about trina in falsettos??? i wwould do anything for her. but also i think if i ever talked to her i might break down sobbing.

ive mentioned it in ramblings before but trina marvin and jason are like a carbon copy of my family. besides the whole, my fathers a homo part and the whole trina marrying marvins psychiatrist part. their dynamics and everything are pretty much the same as my own parents. i was jasons age when they divorced. only difference is (besides the two mentioned) marvin and trina coexist more civilly than we do.

idk why i felt the need to mention that, i think its important like, background to my feelings about her(and the family in general). Shes amazing first and foremost, everyone always talks about marvin and the work he has to do to improve himself, but trina and what she mustve gone through to forgive him? after everything, its incredible. she cares a lot about her family and marvin is apart of it. and she accepts whizzer too i think, ("he shared my life") by the end of it and thats even more amazing to me. i think she deserves a break. i think she deserves the world. i worry (/lh more like just think) about what happens after whizzers death, how marvin cant be there emotoinally for jason and trina and mendel have to take that responsibility. i see my mother in her, a woman who wanted to be free of her ex and live her life but is still chained to him ("ill fight the gods, ill fight my ex") but augh shes so spunky and joyful despite everything!!! year of the child is probably one of if not my absolute favorite song from the soundtrack because its marvin and trina (+mendel charlotte and cordelia) fawning over jason and just being glad and excited that hes growing up and being his parents. the performance especially, because even though theyre techincally fighting at the beginning of the song, they still hug and laugh throughout it. they banter, and its beautiful. i think shes such a strong and resiliant woman, putting up with what she did, coming out the other side only to immediately find more pain. i wouldve liked more insight to her and mendel and jasons relationship. mostly her and jason. but i think there are lots of implications and inferences to be made, and its nice that some things are still up for interpretation.

I have yet to relisten/or even watch in trousers, but i have listened once all the way through, and re-read the lyrics through. trina in trousers,,, god i love her. like. ugh in trousers makes me so sick, marvin and trina and whizzer. mostly marvin and trina. trinas not dumb she knows. especially with love is blind, all the examples she gave and in im breaking down "i used to cry, hed make a scene" she totally knew! and still she even begged him to stay. she tried she really wanted it to work. but ofc it couldnt and im so glad she got to live a life away from him, and find some happiness. that she knows what love is. (oh also, the like. suspected suicide attempt??? bbyg dont worry ill kms for you-. everything about her makes me so so ill because she reminds me so much of my mom.) she tries so hard, with an uncooperative ex and an uncooperative (ish) child, and godbless. i just adore her and want the best things for her. shes such an incredible woman.

anyway thanks for asking! :]