#as i mentioned before here's a masterpost with all the playlists :] i only linked the full one in my other posts

[ruvviks]

ALL THAT'S LEFT MASTERPOST!

EDITS >> season 1 ✖ season 2 ✖ season 3 ✖ season 4 PLAYLISTS >> full ✖ season 1 ✖ season 2 ✖ season 3 ✖ season 4 LORE >> intro ✖ lore post 1 ✖ lore post 2 ✖ season 1 playlist analysis

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 32 of 35 | masterpost

word count: 3841 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I halted in front of the door, my heart pounding, my face all flushed, the desperation in my heart shoving aside any jitters about facing Dave again. All I craved was for him to swing that door open, and I'd throw myself into his arms, cup his face in my hands and kiss him, let him take me to bed, and everything would sort itself out because I loved him. I fucking loved him.

✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, smut mentioned/implied

✧ Do you forgive me for all the ways that I missed you? / Did I ever not miss you? In my bones, in being myself / I could be no one else ✧

I woke up a few hours later with the sunlight peeking through the curtains, James' arms hugging me as he snored softly, his face tucked in the curve of my neck. I blinked, memories of the previous night rushing back, making my face warm and my stomach flutter with a million butterflies. Holy shit. That had really happened, right? We’d actually fucked?

I got up, nudging James' arms away, my face probably redder than a lobster. I headed to the bathroom, cranked up the shower, and hopped under the hot water, letting out a satisfied sigh as my body unwound. After the shower, as I brushed my teeth, it dawned on me that I’d forgotten to grab something to wear. Wrapped in a towel, I strolled back to the room only to find James was already awake.

“You look way hotter naked than I imagined, you know?” James grinned as he caught sight of me.

“Is that your version of 'good morning'?” I chuckled, hunting through my stuff for something to wear. He laughed, got up, and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling me to stand between his legs.

“Good morning, princess,” he murmured, planting a light kiss on my lips. “Hey, mind if I use your shower?”

“Sure thing, but you might want to snag some fresh clothes from your own room,” I suggested, and he flashed a grin.

“Why don't you crash in my room for the rest of the tour? It's way more convenient, and besides…” James pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist before whispering in my ear, “We could have a rerun of last night as many times as we want, right?”

I hesitated, taking a step back. James frowned, seeming intrigued by my reaction.

“What's wrong?” he asked. “Am I that bad in bed?”

“Of course not!” I replied, maybe a bit too hastily, which earned a soft chuckle from him.

“What's bothering you, then?” he asked, gently holding my chin. I let out a sigh and glanced off. 

“You might get upset.”

“Nah, I won't. You know you can tell me anything,” he drew me close again, and I placed my hands on his shoulders, my face warming up with how close we were. “What's going on?”

“It's just…” I sighed, a lump of pain forming in my throat. “James, Dave dumped me, thinking I cheated on him with you. It's messed up. And I... I really liked sleeping with you. A lot, seriously. But I can't help feeling bad…” I blinked, battling against the tears that were pushing through. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything; I'm screwing everything up…”

“No. You're not,” James whispered, gently rubbing my back with one hand. “You gotta quit thinking that. You're not screwing anything up.”

“It's all my fault, James,” I mumbled, my voice shaky as a couple of tears slipped out, making their way down my face. “I messed things up, and I couldn't even go after him to set things right 'cause I was scared. It's all my fucking fault.”

“Hey. Get over here,” he pulled me in closer, giving me a tight hug, and I sniffled, wiping my eyes with one hand while he gently rubbed my back. “You didn't mess up, Nore. You haven't wrecked anything, okay? I broke up with Pat 'cause I wanted to. And Dave... If you want, I can help you with that.”

“How so?” I asked, my voice shaky. He pulled back, looking at me, his blue eyes dead serious.

“If you're up for it, we can track him down when we're back. I'll help you explain the whole story. And if you wanna patch things up with him…” he paused, taking a deep breath like the thought pained him. “Nore, I'd rather fucking die than see you sad like this, even if it’s because you can't be with him.”

“James…” I whispered, my heart pounding at his words. Would he seriously go that far for me? Was he really willing to help me set things straight with Dave, even if it meant he might lose me in the process? Did he truly love me that much?

“It's just that, right now, there's a whole ocean between him and us,” James murmured, his lips edging closer to mine. “You can be my girl while we're here... And when we roll back, we'll figure out what's what.”

I let out a sigh as he kissed me, his hands eagerly roaming over my body until he unraveled the towel wrapped around me. One of his hands gripped my butt tight, while the other ventured to my breast, moving in slow circles, his thumb slowly teasing my nipple. I let out a soft moan as his lips traced my neck, a pleasant warmth spreading between my legs.

“I just got out of the shower,” I whispered, and he let out a soft chuckle.

“So what? We can hop in together later. I was thinking about fucking you in there too, anyway.”

“Quit it, James,” I moaned, my protest weakened by the evident longing in my voice.

He laughed and then yanked me onto the bed, positioning my knees around his hips. I tangled my fingers in his hair, his lips leisurely exploring mine, and moaned when he pulled my hips down, slowly sliding into me as I settled on his lap.

The morning was wrapping up when we finally strolled into the hotel's restaurant, spotting the rest of the band and Leanne, chitchatting as they polished off breakfast.

“Go snag a seat; I'll grab the food,” James suggested, tugging me in by the waist before whispering in my ear: “You've gotta be tired after riding me so good just now, huh?”

“Oh my God... James!” I griped, shoving him off as I felt my face getting all warm. He burst into laughter, heading for the buffet, and I rolled my eyes before joining the gang at the table. “Hey,” I greeted everyone as I took a seat, arching my eyebrows and furrowing my forehead when I got zero response. I blushed when I noticed all eyes on me — Kirk and Leanne with expectation in their eyes, Cliff throwing some side-eye, torn between suspicion and curiosity, and Lars barely containing his laughter. “Alright, spill it. What's the deal?”

“You telling us what happened?” Kirk chimed in, a big grin spreading across his face. I furrowed my brow.

“Nothing happened. What are you guys talking about?”

“Just that Pat went nuclear 'cause you and James disappeared together yesterday. Now she's MIA, and you two stroll in all cozy for breakfast like this?” Lars said, grinning like a goof too. ”So... what's the story?”

“Pat and James called it quits. She hightailed it back home,” I admitted, figuring there was no point in keeping it under wraps — everyone would catch on sooner or later.

“And you’re seriously gonna let us suffer in suspense? Spill the details!” Lea demanded, and I let out a groan.

James rolled back with two plates, plopping one in front of me before settling down and digging in. He took a few seconds, maybe longer, to catch onto everyone's eager stares at us.

“What?” he asked, his mouth full.

“What we're dying to know is if you two fucked or n…”.

“Lars!” I cut in, my face heating up. James nearly choked on his food, going red in the face too. I averted my gaze, refusing to make eye contact, running a hand over my face.

“Oh my God. You guys totally did it, didn’t you?” Lars continued, now definitely cracking up. We stayed silent, but that seemed to be all the confirmation he needed. He leaped to his feet. “I called it!” he pointed triumphantly at Kirk and Leanne. “Pay up, you owe me ten bucks.”

“You guys placed bets on this?” I exclaimed, offended, getting up. “Cliff!” I turned to Cliff, hoping for some support in conveying how ridiculous this was, but he just shrugged.

“I have nothing to do with this.”

“What were you betting on?” James inquired, still a bit flushed but not nearly as bothered as I was. I stared at him, incredulous.

“I bet that you and Pat would split, and you'd turn to Nore for comfort, inevitably leading to... you know. Kirk bet on a threesome with you, Pat, and Nore…” I shot Kirk a wide-eyed look, and he grinned at me like it was just a casual proposition. “Lea bet that you would only sort things out come morning.”

“And you all think it's cool to start placing bets on my love life?” I demanded, annoyed.

“We're just stoked that you and James finally got your act together, Nore. It was about time.” Leanne chimed in with a grin.

“I fucking called it! I knew this day would come ever since I spotted you two making out on the bus.” Lars declared, victorious. I turned to him, eyes wide, and James tensed beside me.

“What do you mean you saw it?” I asked, while James exclaimed:

“Seriously, Lars? I thought you were knocked out!”

“Wait a sec. What do you mean they were making out on the bus?” Kirk inquired.

“You didn't tell us any of this! It's not cool to bet when you're holding back intel,” Leanne griped.

“I genuinely thought you were knocked out,” James reiterated, sounding incredulous. Lars chuckled.

“Well, in case you're not familiar with the idea, it's called pretending…”

“Shut it, you goofballs,” Cliff grumbled. “Everyone's eyeballing us.”

I huffed but settled back in the chair to eat, allowing James to wrap an arm around my shoulders.

“So, are you two together now or what?” Lars prodded, and I rolled my eyes.

“Fuck off, Lars.”

“Are you or not?”

“It's none of your fucking business,” James muttered. “Just zip it.”

I glanced at James and couldn't help but smile when our eyes connected. We carried on with our meal, and to my relief, the others shifted gears, chatting more about the shows and the trip rather than dissecting James and me. I sighed, a sudden realization hitting me that the hollowness that had lingered for the past few weeks had lightened in my chest. For the first time in weeks, I felt almost complete, even with Dave not being there. For a fleeting moment, I almost allowed myself not to feel sad.

But then, James inadvertently brushed against the small blue stone on the bracelet that used to be Dave’s birthday gift, and in an instant, everything about Dave flooded back into my mind; his scent, his smile, the way he used to hold me. The way his lips always found the perfect spot against mine, and how he held me as if I would break with too much force. His voice, his hands, his strong arms around me, everything, everything about him.

I needed to find him again. I needed to explain everything; I needed him to understand that I loved him and had never stopped loving him, not even for a second. The idea of finding him frightened me, but the thought of never crossing paths with him again scared me even more. I needed to make things right.

Then, James' request echoed in my mind, and I let out a sigh. For now, I would let myself revel in the burst of happiness I'd stumbled upon in his embrace. I could make decisions later. I could figure out what I was really feeling. But for now, I could let myself forget that ache.

I could let myself be happy.

The rest of the tour flew by; now that James and I had sorted out our issues, the days felt lighter, and I started to feel a bit happy again. Of course, the fact that James couldn't keep his hands off me played a big part in that; we were always together, grabbing every chance we got to sneak away and get lost in each other's touch.

Before we knew it, it was time to head back home. Saying goodbye to James hit me way harder than I thought it would; I’d let myself love him fully in these past few days, no holds barred, but that didn't lessen how much I craved him one bit. If anything, with each passing day, I just wanted him more.

Nevertheless, I got back from the trip dead sure about one thing: I needed to patch things up with Dave. I had to lay it all out for him, spill every detail, even if it meant he might not want to hear it or worse, end up hating me. If my screw-up was keeping stuff under wraps to avoid hurting him, I was damn sure I wouldn't make that mistake again. Not if it meant risking losing someone I loved.

“You sure you don't want me to go with you?” James asked, cupping my face with one hand while the other hung onto my waist. We were saying goodbye at Los Angeles airport before he jetted back to San Francisco and I headed to Long Beach, but not for long; I had plans to swing back to LA the next weekend to have a chat with Dave and, well, Pat too. Figured some apologies were in order.

“I am. I swear I'll be fine,” I breathed, tiptoeing to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He grinned, pulling me into a tight hug, and I let out a soft chuckle.

“You're so damn brave,” he whispered, making my heart rush. “I'll miss you, you know?”

“We'll catch up soon,” I replied, stepping back and resting my hands on his chest. He smiled, a touch of melancholy in his eyes.

“Yeah, but it won't be the same, will it?” he murmured, and I sighed, furrowing my brow a bit.

I had been dodging the thought, but James had a point: one way or another, I planned to sort things out with Dave this weekend. I was damn sure that meeting him again wouldn't be calm or easy, not when the ache for him was like a stormy sea in my chest.

Yet, I couldn't shake off how tight James and I had gotten in these last few days, how I’d let myself fall even more for him. I was torn, clueless about what to do. All I could wish for was that sorting things out with Dave about all that had happened in the past few months would clear up this emotional mess, help me make sense of it all.

"I gotta do this, Jamie," I murmured, cupping his face in my hands. He smiled, resigned, laying his hands on top of mine.

"I get it. How 'bout one last kiss? You know, for good luck." he suggested, and I couldn't help but chuckle, throwing my arms around his neck as I let him plant a sweet kiss on my lips.

The weekend rolled in quicker than I expected, shooting my anxiety through the roof. No matter how many times I'd rehearsed the speech and played out the scenarios in my head about facing Dave, when the moment finally arrived, I was way more jittery than I bargained for.

I hit up Pat's place first, thinking it might be a smoother conversation. Nervously, I rang the doorbell, sighing in anticipation. After a few minutes, the door swung open, revealing Pat.

I started to say hi, but she shut the door right in my face as soon as she laid eyes on me.

"Pat, come on!" I blurted, banging on the door. I hammered the doorbell — once, twice, three times — until she begrudgingly swung it open.

"What do you want?" she snarled. I raised my eyebrows, taken aback by her hostility.

"I want to talk to you."

"I have nothing to talk to you about. Go away."

"Yeah, I don’t think so. We need to talk," I lit a cigarette and offered her the pack. "Want one?" She stayed silent, and I sighed, shoving the cigarette box back into my jacket pocket. "Pat, look... I know things got kinda..."

“Spare me your apologies," She cut me off. "I don't want to hear it. It's too easy for you to roll up here and apologize after swiping my boyfriend from me. I don't get why you even bothered introducing him to me. You think I didn't know you two were cozying up while you were still with Dave?”

I opened my mouth, floored.

“Pat, I didn't... That's not true.”

“No? Then why were you so bent out of shape that day at Mike's house when you caught James kissing me?" She inched closer, and I instinctively took a step back, my stomach doing somersaults and my face turning beet red when I realized she'd noticed how upset I got. Sure, I was a bit inebriated and stoned that day, but I genuinely believed Pat hadn't seen how messed up I felt seeing her with James.  "If you and James weren't a thing, why did Dave kick you to the curb after I told him about you two?”

My whole world felt like it hit pause when she dropped that bomb. How could she have told Dave about James and me? Flashbacks of that day zipped through my brain like lightning; I didn't clue Dave in on my trip to snag my jacket from Mike's place, not because I was hiding stuff from him, but because I knew he wasn’t comfortable with anything related to Metallica, and I figured it'd be a quick in-and-out mission – grab the jacket and jet.

Yet somehow, for some wild reason, he’d tailed me. For months, I'd been scratching my head, wondering how Dave had known I'd be at Mike's place, how he was dead sure James and would be together behind his back, but that explanation couldn't be real. It just didn't make sense.

“You did... what?” I murmured, my voice shaky as my stomach did somersaults. The cigarette I had in my hand slipped through my fingers, thudding on the floor as my hands started to shake like crazy. “Pat, what the fuck did you do?”

“I told him everything, ” she smirked, clearly pleased with how her words threw me off, messing with my breathing in a cocktail of anger and despair. “James kept swearing you two weren't a thing, but I wasn't buying it. Did you really think I didn't notice the way he looked at you? Like, did you honestly believe I'd let you wreck everything? I figured if Dave knew, you'd have a fight, and he'd talk you out of hanging with James. I just didn't expect him to actually catch you two in the act and call it quits with you,” she came closer, giving me a little shove, and I balled my hands into fists. “But just when I figured you'd quit bugging me and James, they invited you on that damn tour. And guess what? I was right. You were together after all, weren’t you? You should've seen Dave's face when I got back from Europe and told him all about what went down back there.”

“You're a fucking bitch, ” I snapped, shaking with fury and barely holding back from taking a swing at her on the spot. “You really think this is cool? Spreading a load of bullshit about us? You don’t know shit about me and James. I’m lucky I showed up here and found out about all this, 'cause now he's for sure never gonna want to see you again.”

She took a step back, a glint of hurt flickering in her eyes for a split second before it got replaced by coldness, a mocking grin playing on her lips.

"What's that saying again? An eye for an eye?" she said, tilting her head back slightly and giving me a narrowed-eye look. "Dave won't want anything to do with you either, Nore. Not after his ex-best friend and his girlfriend double-crossed him like this. Do you think I give a damn if it's true or not? You snagged the guy I like, so I snagged the guy you love."

I took another step back. How could she just say that so casually, like it was no big deal? Like wrecking my relationship with Dave didn't matter, like hurting him and breaking both our hearts meant nothing? I felt my heart squeeze, my breath hitching as I grasped the full impact of it all; how Dave must've believed I’d genuinely stabbed him in the back, how bumping into James at Mike's place, alone with me, would have only fueled his suspicions.

And what was Pat blabbing about again? You should've seen Dave's face when I got back from Europe and told him all about what went down back there. What twisted version of the truth had Pat fed him before I had a chance to spill my own guts, to lay out my feelings, to let him know how much I've been hurting without him, how much I've been missing him? Did he really think I'd been cozying up with James since our split, not giving a damn about how he felt? Did he genuinely believe I'd ditch him like that?

I couldn't stick around there for one more second. I had to track down Dave immediately. I needed to tell him the truth, no twists, no fibs, no chitchat. I needed him to understand that I loved him. That yeah, I had feelings for James too, but I loved him ; that I had loved him first, that we could patch things up if we gave it a shot. That I needed him. That I didn't want to live without him.

I spun around without a backward glance, hustling to my motorcycle and firing it up. I zoomed through the streets of Los Angeles, maybe pushing the speed limit a bit until I hit the low-rise building where Dave and I used to live. I barged into the building like a tornado, sprinting up the stairs until I hit our old apartment’s floor. I halted in front of the door, my heart pounding, my face all flushed, the desperation in my heart shoving aside any jitters about facing Dave again. All I craved was for him to swing that door open, and I'd throw myself into his arms, cup his face in my hands and kiss him, let him take me to bed, and everything would sort itself out because I loved him. I fucking loved him.

But that dream didn't pan out; when I knocked on the door, I noticed it was already unlocked, exposing a totally vacant apartment. I barged in, frantic, scouring every room as if he might still be there, but he wasn't. He just wasn't there, and the realization hit me like a tidal wave, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably. He wasn't there, and I had no clue how to find him.

I had lost him.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

✦ a/n: decided to put this note at the end so you guys wouldn't get spoilers for this part. I'm sorry for the heartbreaking twist (again) lol I promised Dave would be back and he will, but it'll take just a bit longer! Also, the epilogue is getting a little bigger than I expected, because I don't want to leave any plot points unanswered or rushed, so I will split it into a few parts (it won't be too many! it's all for the sake of the story and so we can get more Dave and James moments with Nore I promise lol)

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9

[single-malt-scotch]

Single Malt Scotch masterpost

well, i made a nebtho one so i guess i should make one of my namesake, right? sorry to say but in terms of video content.... aint much lol. But I will link a playlist and talk about its history!

Right so, what is there??? Why should you watch these guys?

Team Single Malt Scotch is the pair of Zisteau and Kurtjmac. Z does youtube sporadically but doesnt play minecraft much at all anymore, Kurt is well known for Far Lands or Bust and still does that and other games! So we're talking about the old days really- SMS first teamed up in UHC 7. Their dynamic caught on pretty strong in the tumblr oriented mindcrack fandom, and honestly I'd say they were one of the most popular ships back then alongside the expected Team Canada and Nebtho. I enjoyed their whole deal especially because I liked Kurt a lot, and related to his shyness and interests back then. Zisteau and him get along pretty well and shared similar interests so it was always nice to see then hang out- and their slight opposites with Z being more extroverted made them pretty balanced. Overall good chemistry.

The videos. What videos? Heres my playlist, but I will lay it out below as well. (additionally I only included one episode of UHC 7, i suggest going and watching Kurt here as he has the more eps). Be sure to read the playlist description for further info on how to watch.

Ep 45/12 - Episodes with them together start after UHC 7- its hard tracking down more videos due to lack of keywords, etc... They're working together on Kurt's base! good ol 40 min long episode.

Ep 46/13 - back to back, more work on kurt's base. really just nice slow eps with lots of chatter. - i suggest kurt's because its longer.

Fun fact about those two above!! Kurt mimics Zisteau intro :) in his episodes.

a little minecon video in there... from 9 years ago. god i feel old.

another little extra mindcrack server stuff, a pov from kurt that he hadn't shared before.

while this is in the playlist, its a specific timestamp- FLoBathon 2014, Zisteau jumps call in for a good long period. this is definitely more podcasty of a watch.

final stretch... UHC 2017 Charity event. Yeah, way later than everything else lol. This one was a shock to me when it happened too! This UHC is chaotic due to item donations but it was incredibly fun to watch them again- especially up to the very end!! Really suggest it if you want something faster paced. Spoilers: extra good because we got an "i love you kurt" out of it so.

Extra, not on the playlist- feel like itd be fun to mention this FLoB episode where Kurt recognizes the popularity of SMS on tumblr. which sends anxiety through me at times knowing i also had this url way back then as well.

Well thats it boys. There is a good chance theres some other episodes floating out there and i appreciate any added links! (especially later stuff like post-2016 since i was around less).

As I said above SMS was a pretty popular ship. its hard to know how that felt if you weren't around back then but, there is a huge backlog of fan fiction for sure. Ao3 isnt the biggest archive of fics (i suggest dreamwidth) but even there its the top ship with 100 fics!

so you know. old ship, not anything new, not something i expect new people to get into- but i think its worth sharing especially as a fandom history thing because it was quite a popular subject back in the day.

[koorminii]

COLLEGESLUTS.COM — IDEA 686 | HHJ

Part one of the CSC series. You can find this series’ masterpost here. This can be read as a stand-alone, but you may have questions that will be answered in future installations. Keep in mind this is the intro.

There are three things you hate more than anything: 1. Your english Lit. professor, 2. Frat parties, and last but most definitely not least, 3. CollegeSluts.com and their founders. There are three things Hyunjin hates more than anything: 1. College, 2. Back alley blowjobs, and 3. The frustrating desire to fuck you silly.

PAIRING: hyunjin x f!reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers; smut; crack; angst; college au

WC: 17k…. fear me! (also broke my record!!)

WARNINGS: reader is going through it and will continue to go through it. there’s no development for them at all in this installment i apologize (😭) reader calls skz sex-crazed demons, she’s very confused but not irrational, there’s not many warnings besides for the smut— profanity, alcohol consumption, mentions of alcoholism, annoying characters, insanely inexperienced reader, bet making, one-sided hatred, hyunjin wants to figure you out & thank god for that otherwise this series wouldn’t exist, sexual tension bottled up as hate bc yn is stupid. virgin/corruption kink, loss of virginity, overstimulation, dirty talking, unprotected sex…, creampie, fingering, pussy eating, teasing, breast play, and i think that’s it…

A/N: hi angels, i finished this in three days somehow and even though i didn’t plan on this being my post for 400, we hit it recently so this is it! and it’s fitting since a lot of people are waiting for this series <3 I hope you enjoy the first installment, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, my ask box, or in a reblog! & lmk if you want to be added to the taglist for this fic or my permanent one which is linked below! i hate writing the introduction to a fic and if you feel like this entire one-shot is pointless i promise it’s not 😭 there’s a lot of drama to come soon but i had to establish some things first!

i managed to make a playlist for this series! please enjoy 👩🏾‍💻

mlist; taglist; navi; | ⇦ previous | next ⇨

There are three things you hate more than anything.

Your english lit. professor

Frat parties

last, but most definitely not least, collegesluts. com and it’s founders.

It’s the literal bane of your existence, the reason why it’s so hard for you to sleep at night, and the one thing that makes your skin itch even more than the fuzzy sweaters your grandma knits every winter season.

Maybe if the creator of the site wasn’t such a douchebag, and maybe if the site users weren’t even worse, you wouldn’t abhor it as much as you did. But that’s a lot of maybes— ones that create a reality much different than your own and don’t make you feel much better.

You were first introduced to the hellsite in your second year of college— only made a year before. After you found out, age twenty hanging high over your head and no longer a fresh face in the school system, you’d tried and failed to get it shut down. Multiple times.

Happy, carefree people, would just ignore its existence— get on with their life, allow people to be college sluts in peace, but you couldn’t do that. Only you saw it for what it was, right? A sex site for college-goers to ruin their lives before it even started. Everyone else was too blissed out, a hand shoved in their pants every night as they watched their classmates fuck each other without fail. Only you could really see—

“Hello, can you hear!?”

Your eyebrows furrow at the voice behind you and your shoulders tighten when a finger pokes harshly at your skin.

“What?” You groan, rubbing the section of your arm that was unjustly abused. “Can you just be nice like a normal person?”

“Well, you’re an asshole so why would I be nice to you?”

“Fuck off Seungmin. What do you want?”

The only thing that betrays the fact that he heard you at all is the laugh that echoes behind you. Your chest tightens in response, and you fold your arms over your chest.

Kim Seungmin. A close fourth on your list of things you hate more than anything else. He was one of the users on the-site-that-must-not-be-named. A platinum member actually, a fact that always made your skin burn even in the coldest of weather. He was even friends with the site creators, and you wouldn’t doubt he had a hand in making it completely. He’d never been shy in supporting his use of the site, because nowadays regular cam sites were somehow uncool. He even had shirts with the college sluts logo in big, bold, letters. He was a part of one of the things you couldn’t stand. A big part of it even, but you ignored all that so you could call him your best— and one of your only— friends.

Kim Seungmin is first on the things you love, and that automatically removes him from the list of things you hate. When an arm slings itself across your shoulders you barely react, simply steering you both in the direction of your first class. It’s too early to deal with your best friend, and especially his toothy remarks and sarcasm, but you don’t say so and simply allow him to talk your ear off while you concern yourself with more important things.

Things like Hwang Hyunjin and Christopher Bang. The admins of College Sluts and the cause of the twitch in your brow. Sometimes the amount of hatred you felt for the two amazed you. To others, they were college boys— hotter than most, smart, talented, promiscuous. They had a good personality, a future, and were people a lot of other people got along with (and their other friends but you won’t get into that lest you pop a vessel).

To you, it’s agree to disagree. In short, they’ve got everyone totally fooled. Only sex-crazed low lifes actually managed to create a porn site. It’s one thing to think of it, sprawled around their dorm rooms knocked off their ass and barely sober, but it’s another thing to actually do it— work hard on it, execute such ideas— it’s completely baffling to you. How can no one see how perverted that is? You don’t even know what to call it, but the fire that erupts in your gut is enough to tell you that it’s bad.

There’s a bunch of girls and guys crowding around them, laughing and hugging and touching. Touching as if they were in the privacy of their home and not outside where others could see. It makes your chest heat up, and makes weird maggots swallow up your stomach, leaving a tingly feeling in its wake. You hate it. They’re demons. Sex-crazed demons.

“God, I’m starting to think you’re like anti-sex or something.”

You grunt.

“Literally we’re just walking by and you look like you’re contemplating murder.”

You hum.

“Jesus,” Seungmin sighs, shaking his head before waving over at his friends. More like his sinner acquaintances. Don’t get it wrong, you’re not overly religious or particularly shameful— despite how you might seem— but it’s something about that entire group (Seungmin sometimes included) that makes you feel like breaking something. Choking something? Crying? Screaming? You’re not sure anymore.

When you catch Hyunjin’s eye he smirks and you frown. Just the sight of him is enough to make your head hurt and your knees weak. At least, that makes sense to you. The rest of the student body? Not so much.

You hoist your bag up on your shoulder and tear your gaze away from him. Your building isn’t much farther and if you squint really hard you can pretend you don’t see Hyunjin approaching from the corner of your eye. It’s a hot day and when he sidles up to you, shoulders almost touching, it gets much hotter.

“Hey,” he greets, slapping palms with Seungmin and holding one down low for you. Your hand hesitates, almost greeting him in return before you slap his arm and send a glare his way.

“Bye,” you grit, turning your head away from him and grabbing at Seungmin’s arm. “I have somewhere to be.”

“Loosen up!” He calls, his long legs easily catching up to your fast pace. “I just wanted to say hi to my favorite girl.”

Your breath stutters the tiniest bit but you ignore it, not bothering to grant that remark an answer. Hyunjin is flirty. Too flirty. Stupid flirty. The kind of flirty that gets girls like you all riled up even when you’re supposed to be hating him, even when you’re supposed to curse the very ground he walks on, and it just makes the dreadful maggots in your system start up their annoying fluttering.

Seungmin doesn’t say anything, even when your grip on his arm tightens at a painful rate. You will your heart to stop beating so damn hard and for your entire body to stop reacting so easily to him. You don’t even know him so why does he hold so much influence over you? Someone like him? Someone who spends their time and their intelligence on a haphazard college porn site? No. No way.

“What do you want, Hyunjin?”

The devil with the long brown hair, and soft cheeks, and cute dimples takes the chance to lean close to your ear, making sure you hear whatever it is he has to say.

“Don’t be too mad at me, bug. I just wanted to tell you that you look gorgeous today.” Hyunjin pats your cheek, smiling before he leans away, turning back the way he came.

“See you later.”

And that’s that. The sex demon comes to set your cheeks ablaze and leaves once he’s done, letting you deal with your muddled feelings on your own. Once you start walking again, ignoring the stare boring into your cheeks and the confusing pounding of your heart, there’s only three words on your mind.

Fuck Hwang Hyunjin.

There are three things Hyunjin hates more than anything:

1. College

2. Back alley blowjobs

3. The frustratingly clear desire he has to fuck you silly.

Hyunjin isn’t sure when he realized it exactly. He doesn’t even know why he reacts to you so strongly. If you were anyone else he probably wouldn’t give you a second glance. He’s sure of it. Maybe it’s the desire to want something you can’t have, or the fact that you aren’t groveling at his feet.

It’s not like Hyunjin has any idea of why exactly you’re so hellbent on hating his guts, nor does he really care all that much. So you don’t like College Sluts, that’s your right as is anyone else’s, but it’s not like he’s shoving the damn shit in your face. He minds his business, manages his porn site, and does it all with a smile on his face. You, though? It’s a miracle he’s seen you smile once. And that was when he wasn’t paying attention and knocked into someone carrying a full tray of food.

Chan laughs at him all the time and so does Minho, wondering if he has some weird kink for wanting people who clearly don’t want him back, but more and more he’s thinking that isn’t the case. He’s always been bold, always been a bit flirty even when he wasn’t trying, and he knows he’s easy on the eyes. It’s not a secret, but your reaction to him isn’t one of disdain or clear attraction, but rather confusion, and that confuses him.

He flips the mic in his hands, switching between cradling it and flinging it every which way. The speakers of the karaoke system effectively drag him from his thoughts as the music gets louder and Jisung spins Felix around on their makeshift stage. Whoops and hollers echo from around them, the rest of their friends cheering at the performance in front of them. Hyunjin can’t bring himself to laugh even as a smile threatens to take hold of his features.

“Yo, what’s up with you?” Jisung plops down beside him, slinging an arm around Hyunjin's shoulders as puffs of breath leave his lips. “You’ve been sitting here brooding. What’s going on?”

“I don’t brood,” Hyunjin argues, though he maneuvers his body so he can tell Jisung exactly what has him brooding. “It’s just— I’m still thinking about Y/n.”

“Bro.”

“It doesn’t seem weird to you?”

“Weird that she’s just not interested? This is a new low, Hyunjin. Not everyone is gonna be attracted to you—”

“I know, but that’s not what I’m saying. Doesn’t her whole attitude towards us seem a bit excessive? All over a website.”

“It’s not your typical website.”

“Sung, it’s probably one of the safest porn sites out there because of how exclusive it is. No one but students here can get on it.”

“Does she know that?”

“That’s my point,” Hyunjin sighs, running a hand through his hair before starting again. “If she doesn’t even know the full details of the site, how can she possibly hate it? Hate us?”

Jisung pauses, looking back towards the stage. It’s true that all eight of them have thought about this at least once. They know there’s people who hate the website, who steer clear of it in all instances, but none who have made petitions and gone to the superintendent requesting an audience about it. No one who’s actively been so hateful to them specifically, refusing to look in their direction unless it’s to send a glare their way.

“Maybe there's another reason?” Jisung offers, sending Hyunjin a sideways glance. “I mean, maybe she just hates porn.”

Hyunjin snorts at that. How can anyone hate porn?

“You’re laughing but I’m dead serious. Has she ever even had a partner?”

“How the fuck would I know?”

“You think about her 24/7. I wouldn't be surprised if you knew what she ate for breakfast.”

“Not fucking funny.”

Jisung barks out a laugh, falling over into Hyunjin’s space. “Don’t worry, you’ll get over it soon.”

Hyunjin isn’t so sure but he nods anyway, allowing Jisung to go back to the stage for the next song. Hyunjin knocks back his drink, throat constricting barely at the bitter taste. He doesn’t care. He really doesn’t, but there’s something weird about your behavior and he’s more than determined to figure it out. Maybe he needs to just mind his business but fuck that, he thinks, no one is gonna hate him for no reason. Maybe he’s a little too riled up at that, maybe Jisung is right and this is a new low. Maybe he just really can’t deal with rejection well. Maybe.

Minho’s screeching into the mic does it’s hardest to ruin Hyunjin’s night, but the way the rest of his friends tackle him and attempt to steal the mic just makes him laugh, leaving a warm feeling in his chest. This is all he needs— his friends and a good drink to put a smile on his face. And the college porn site he worked very hard on, of course.

The group only gets through a few more songs before they decide to leave, deciding to ignore the fact that some of them have classes in six hours or that they’ll be nursing a bad headache for the entirety of it. Hyunjin is one of them. He laughs along with his friends as they walk, and he watches them from where he stands in the back.

Jisung has his phone out and is making a concerned face, typing furiously on the device. Either they’re having technical issues or his girlfriend is getting on his ass once again. Minho has an arm slung around his shoulders, laughing at whatever it is he’s typing and whoever it is that’s typing back. Next to them Felix and Jeongin have joined hands and Felix swings them back and forth, giggling as he does. Jeongin pretends he doesn’t like it, like usual, but Hyunjin notices the hint of a smile on his face. He always notices.

Chan and Changbin are quiet on either side of him, walking in the tranquil quiet that’s always rare for their group. It feels incomplete— Hyunjin wishes Seungmin could’ve come. He doesn’t know how the boy manages to be friends with the creators of the CSC and also be friends with its #1 hater. Maybe he’s selling secrets, telling you everything about the site, all its loopholes and glitches. Maybe he’s working against them now, coming up with a plan to shut them down once and for all, though Hyunjin doesn’t know if that’s possible.

Right after those thoughts trickle into his mind, he thinks about Seungmin wearing the handmade “merch” for the site, and doesn’t entertain them any longer. It would be ridiculous— even for him— to think that someone who repped college sluts like it was their brand would ever work even harder to tear it away.

The knot in his throat that’s been squeezing at his airways since earlier that night relaxes just a little. He’s never actually said this to anyone, but just as much as he thinks about why you hate him, he thinks about whether Seungmin will hate him too; about if he’ll lose a friend due to reasons he’s not even sure of. As much as he thinks about why you hate him so badly, he thinks about why he doesn’t hate you right back. He wonders why he— instead of wanting nothing to do with you— wants to know everything about you. Why he wants to understand you when you’ve made no effort to understand him, or worse, made up your own mind about who he is without even attempting to entertain the idea that maybe you’re wrong.

Hyunjin has lived his whole life suffering from other people's ideas of him, from their expectations that they held with no prior consultation with him, from the perfect picture of him in their minds that didn’t correlate with the real Hyunjin. He’s had his fair share of wondering, thinking, wanting. And it’s disappointing to see how even after all this time, since childhood, nothing has changed. He’s always wanted what he’s not allowed to have, but it’s not for lack of trying.

They don’t arrive at their frat house quick enough. As soon as the door opens into the building Hyunjin feels like falling asleep on the couch. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he’s also not sure what last happened on that couch. Between spilled drinks and sex that was too rushed to even make it to a bedroom he’d rather take his chances on an actual bed. Chan doesn’t bother to turn the lights on when he comes in, and the seven of them shuffle around each other, spilling into the living room or into the kitchen to grab drinks and snacks as if they didn’t just come back from eating.

Hyunjin knows he’s been distant all night but he can’t be bothered to care as he sends a quick good night his friends’ way and makes his way upstairs. The house holds eight other boys besides them and he’s surprised none of them are downstairs or hanging around even at the late hour. Though, Hyunjin reasons, most of them have girlfriends and the few others that don’t are seniors and probably pull all-nighters in the library or some shit.

Hyunjin doesn’t want to think about that. The year only started back up again a few months ago, he doesn’t need to be thinking about work anymore than he already does. He makes a good living even without a real job, so he’s taking shit day by day. It’s not like anyone else is much different. Most of his seniors are cramming because they were so carefree. Hyunjin doesn’t think about the implications of that either.

The softness of his bed is long overdue and his body sinks into the plush bedding. He strips off his shirt and pants, not bothering to make his way to a shower or put pajamas on or do anything really. He has five hours before he needs to wake back up and this is nothing if not a power nap that won’t help him get through any lectures the next day. Or, later that day rather.

Hyunjin doesn’t concern himself with that though, because there’s only one thing that’s on his mind when he falls asleep and when he wakes up, and that’s what he’s going to say to you tomorrow morning in the first class of the day.

The first thing you manage to think of when you wake up is how best you’re going to ignore Hyunjin today. You’ve been brainstorming, wondering which response will humble him the best, maybe make him speechless for long enough that you can get away. If only those getaways could last forever, you sigh, pulling a fitted tee over your head. It’s low-cut, makes your cleavage pop just a little bit more, and you add a necklace for that exact reason.

You’re not the sex-crazed demon that the CSC most definitely are, but you do like a little attention every now and again even if you don’t get that much action. Or any, really, and you’re just fine with that. It’s one of the reasons why you don’t like the CSC. There’s no reason to sexify everything, and that’s exactly what they do. People can get by just fine without it.

Just fine? Seungmin would probably jab, but he’s not here right now and he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You are just fine, but the mention of the-site-that-must-not-be-named just fills your stomach with stones and ignites your nerves like nothing else does. To you, that’s more than enough proof that it’s the CSC’s fault— not yours.

Anyway, today is the day you have to see Hyunjin bright and early, which always manages to set your day off to a bad start. No one should have to deal with him at this time of day, or any time of day, and you pity the ones that do. Seeing Chan isn’t rare, but he doesn’t talk to you like Hyunjin does. He stares every now and again, gives you a lazy smirk, and is generally sexy as much as it pains you to admit it, but he doesn’t bother you. Though you know he probably talks about you. His stares are too knowing, way too insightful even when you don’t really know each other.

The rest of the boys you’ve talked to on a few occasions. They aren’t as insufferable, but they are associated with Hyunjin and Chan and are, in fact, involved in the upkeep of the-site-that-must-not-be-named. To you, that’s more than enough reason to at the least dislike them. You don’t hold soft spots for any of them, except maybe Felix who seems way too sweet to be a sex demon, but then again, it’s always the nice ones.

Besides, it doesn’t matter what they say to you or don’t say, or if they look at you or not, or if they even know you exist. It really doesn’t matter. You shake the thoughts from your head vigorously, ashamed at the fact that you spent the first hour of your morning on them. It’s unbecoming of you. It’s good to remind yourself not to actively concern yourself with any of them, and simply fight for the site’s demolition like you’ve been doing.

Seungmin says you have no life, but Seungmin also wears T-shirts with cartoonish, glittery pink boobs and the site’s name in glittery cursive letters. You don’t think Seungmin should have an opinion.

The last time you attempted to do anything about the site was roughly two months ago, a month after school started back. You took your time to settle in, fall into a routine, and get your work and classes in order before resuming your mission. It was arduous, brainstorming and juggling school work, but it was your responsibility since no one else would work hard enough.

A quick shuffle through any of your things would tell people you were a perfectionist— articulate in your placement of items and the way you did things. Even taking the time to plan certain outings to a T, determined to make sure everything goes well. It’s not a secret how obsessive you get over things and how uncomfortable or incomplete you feel when things don’t go your way, when you have to follow someone else’s idea of how things should work. It’s the reason why most people don’t get along with you because to them you’re too controlling, too compulsive and dominating.

When you were a child that fact had bothered you. It was confusing— that was just your nature, and you wouldn’t have survived your childhood without it based on the way your parents lived. When kids would shun you, treat you like something sticky at the bottom of their shoe, it hurt your young heart. You felt apologetic simply for acting the way you always felt like you should act, for doing the things that left you satisfied after. Now, in college, no one demands classmates to get along, no one can shun you in the cafeteria and force you to eat in the library. If they don’t like you it’s fine with you, frankly it doesn’t matter. You have one goal and one goal only, and once that’s over with you can move on.

When you step out of your dorm the sun is blinding, shining down with unforgiving rays of light. All you can do is squint, tilt your head down a little and wish you had a hat. The walk to the Art’s building is long, but feels longer with how warm it is. The heat shimmies its way under your clothes and into your skin, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.

The scenery on the walk there is always breathtaking though, the pavement that makes up the pathway to the building is closed in by blades of grass that have been cut and trimmed to perfection. Rocks make up the border between them— large smooth stones that vary in size but are more or less the same oval shape. There’s an entire garden full of all types of flowers, Gardenias, Lilies, Irises, Tulips, and even some you can’t name. At the entrance of the building there are bright lights that illuminate at least 25 feet in front of it at night, and wide hedges that have been designed to look like swans, their necks curved in a way that if they were moved next to each other they’d be forming a heart. White flowers grow inside the hedges serving to make the entire scene look more beautiful, and as much as you hate walking there, the view is unmatched.

The Art building has always been your safe haven, Art in general being your home away from home. It took a long time for you to feel comfortable studying it— always caught up in the what if. What if you can’t make a living from it? What if you end up not liking it as you grow older? What if it’s not a sustainable career? Questions that still plague you often, and stop you from putting as much of your heart in it as you’d wish. These classes are somewhat self-indulgent. A way for you to escape from the hectic mess that is your life, away from the stress of work, from the anxiety of what comes next, and from the infuriating instances that continue without your control— away from the things you can’t control so you can run to things you can. So imagine your horror when you found out Hwang Hyunjin was in the same class as you. At the same time. Doing the same thing.

It felt like your escape wasn’t yours anymore, and that the stress from your day followed you everywhere you went. It wasn’t enough for Hyunjin to pester you often— he had to be everywhere you were too.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, setting your shoulders and regain the poise you take pride in– carrying yourself with the confidence you wish you had. It doesn’t take long for you to make your way to the entrance of the building, as you walk, having been kissed by the scorching light of the sun and brushed against by dewy blades of grass. It feels surreal and staggering to be outside alone so early in the morning, yet peaceful, for you know that it will be long before you get this chance again.

“Bug!”

Oh no. no no no. You walk faster, hoping to make it inside before Hyunjin can catch up to you. Hyunjin is never this early. He either comes right on time or late to the frustration of your teachers and peers although no one would ever say it to his face. You can hear his feet against the pavement louder and louder as he comes closer to you, catching up just when you take the first step up the stairs to the entrance.

“You didn’t hear me, bug?”

“Stop calling me bug.”

“Sorry, bug,” Hyunjin laughs, putting a heavy arm over your shoulders and bringing you closer.

You roll your eyes so hard it feels like they’re gonna stick. Maybe they should so you don’t ever have to see Hyunjin again. Maybe he’d think you look scary like that, your eyes rolled up forever. Maybe then he’d leave you alone.

Hyunjin is annoying. He always acts like you’re his friend, but you know it’s fake because why would he want to be friends with you, someone who hates everything he works hard on and hates him as well to an extent. It seems overly fake and forced to you, so you don’t ever entertain it. The last thing you need is to fall for it and then be made out to look like an idiot when he eventually embarrasses you.

“It’s too early.”

“It’s never too early, pretty.”

“It’s always too early to be dealing with you,” You groan, wrenching his arm away from where it laid over your shoulders. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Why not?” Hyunjin asks, seemingly unaffected by your attitude towards him. He shoves his hands in his pockets, his shoulders raised up to his chin in a shrug. “I like talking to you.”

You snort, looking up at him with eyebrows raised, “You like talking to me, the one person— possibly in this world— who absolutely hates you, and barely spares you the time of day?” You ask, tilting your head in mock confusion. “I’m sure this is the longest we’ve ever had a conversation, but nice try.” You squeeze his cheeks, hard, and when he swats your hand away you can’t help the giggle that you let out. If his cheeks felt like dough under your fingers you’re choosing to ignore that, wiping a hand on your jeans with way more intensity than needed.

“But see,” Hyunjin starts again, “We’re having a conversation right now and neither of us wanna choke each other.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m barely resisting the urge to punt your head like a baseball.”

It’s silent for a moment before you both burst out into a fit of giggles. Hyunjin braces himself against his knees as he laughs, his hair falling over his face as he does, and you’re not much better— staggering where you stand to laugh with him. It only takes a few seconds for you both to calm down, and slowly the reality of what happened catches up to you.

“Do you even punt baseballs?” Hyunjin snorts, and you just laugh harder.

“I don’t know, Hyunjin, if you haven’t noticed I’m at the arts building not sports.” You wheeze, fighting through another laugh. “Now I’m just imagining your head flying over the gardens.”

Hyunjin lets out another chuckle but shivers a bit at the thought. He waits for you to calm down, your giggles turning into small huffs. A hint of a smile still remains on your cheeks, and the sun shines down so strongly on your features it feels like he’s seeing an angel— like divinity right in front of his eyes. When you straighten up, he can see every movement. The way you position your bag upright, the way a bit of your gums poke out from your lips. Your lips, soft, glossy, and look the most perfect in a smile. He can see the way your eyebrows lose the tension from your laughing fit, the way the crinkle of your eyes lessen as your face relaxes. He can see everything, so he can also see when your lips fall back into a firm line, when your eyebrows go back to that angry stance they always hold when you’re around him. The way your shoulders stiffen, and the grip on your bag tightens. He can see everything, and he reminds himself the only time you laugh is when he’s the butt of the joke.

“I’m going to class,” You murmur, walking the rest of the way up the stairs and into the building without looking back or waiting for him to respond. Though Hyunjin wonders what he would’ve even said.

I’ll come with you.

We can sit together.

No, you both can’t do anything together, and more and more Hyunjin wonders why he even wants to.

“You were laughing with Hwang Hyunjin? The sex demon??” Your friend hisses from next to you, stringing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You?”

“Yes, me, Jieun.” You huff. “I can barely believe it either. What did he do to me? I hate him, I can’t show weakness by laughing around him.”

“Honey,” Jieun laughs, leaning towards you, “You can laugh. Honestly the fact that you ran away after is hilarious.”

“I didn’t run away.”

“You ran away.”

“I didn’t run.”

Jieun settles on you with a heavy stare, face slack, and you roll your eyes. “Fine, I walked away.”

“I don’t know how either of you take each other seriously.”

“I don’t take him seriously.”

“Yeah you do, babe. You refuse to laugh around him. That’s very serious.”

You snort.

“And the fact that he gives you the time of day when this is the dumbest feud possible… I just don’t understand it.”

“It’s not dumb.” You sputter, smoothing your hand over the glossy wooden desk of the classroom. “It’s…” You trail off, staring into the large windows at the side of the room. You cock your head and lean forward, jaw slack when the sex demon himself waves outside. “Oh what a stalker.” You growl, throwing up the middle finger in his direction. “He’s got his little posse following him too.”

When Jieun makes to wave back you smack the back of her head and groan when she gives you an affronted look.

“What was that for?” Jieun exclaims, bringing a hand up to rub against the back of her head.

“Don’t fraternize with the enemy,” You hiss, folding your arms over your chest and staring back at your professor.

“Are you gonna explain the feud—”

“No.”

In your opinion, class doesn’t end quickly enough. You split with Jieun at the entrance, the both of you going in opposite directions, and attempt to reorder your frazzled mind. So you laughed. A lot of people laugh at people they hate. Plus, he laughed too— so why should you be overthinking it? You’ve laughed before, in situations you weren’t supposed to, and this is no different. Now you just need to make sure it never happens again. You nod to yourself as you walk, pulling out your phone to make sure Seungmin is already at the meeting spot.

The sun is still just as ruthless as it was earlier, but a light breeze grazes your skin and rustles the trees along the sidewalk and in the field in front of you. There’s a bunch of picnic tables, some occupied and some of them not. There’s groups of friends sitting under trees, some couples, some of them alone; reading or completing assignments in the nice weather. You spot Seungmin a few tables down, a brown sweater over a collared shirt and cute glasses perched upon his nose.

You take your time walking to the table, letting your skin soak in the warmth and tranquil peace of nature. When Seungmin spots you he shuffles over, giving you some space to sit next to him and you do, mumbling a small hey before knocking your head against the table.

“You’re going to a party with me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Seungmin… Hi, how are you? How was your day? No, I’m not.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Well, unless you’re going to drag me, no I’m not.”

“I just might,” Seungmin sighs, “Why are you so difficult?”

“Difficult? You’re the one being difficult. I don’t want to go and you’re telling me it’s not a choice.”

“Because it’s not.”

You let out a groan, a long torturous one that has people turning their head to a straight faced Seungmin and you who’s head is still knocked against the table. When people think it’s stopped it starts all over again, a guttural groan filled with displeasure and frustration that loosens your chest when it’s done.

“Are you done?”

“Leave me alone.”

“It’s on Saturday. I can pick you up.” Seungmin says instead of arguing.

“Today’s Thursday.” You whine, just stopping yourself from letting out another groan— one that wouldn’t ever stop for as long as you have to deal with Kim Seungmin and his annoying, snarky, bossy self.

“…. I’m aware.” Seungmin says, and you don’t even have to look at him to know he’s making a face like and so what?

“I can’t stand you, I hope you know that. No type of warning, no preparation… I don’t party. I need at least two weeks to mentally prepare myself and another two weeks to get an outfit.”

“Damn.” Seungmin says, but he rubs a hand against your back, lightly pushing you to lift your head from the table. “Listen, I’ll help you. And it’s being thrown by people I know so you don’t have to worry. I don’t think many people throw college parties a month in advance but I’ll keep that in mind.”

All you can do is nod, waiting patiently as Seungmin finishes whatever assignment he’s working on. You’ve already completed the ones you have, the pro of not having much else to do and being on top of things always. Everyday you both meet up here, either at a table or under one of the trees and talk. Read, finish assignments, or even eat snacks. There have been some times where you meet there and then go somewhere else together, rarely off campus but it happens, and you get something to eat or go on a mini adventure. It’s the highlight of your day and you’re sure it is for Seungmin too, but you’d never admit that to each other. You don’t have to, though, because you’re both always on the same wavelength especially when it counts the most.

Though now he’s given you something else to worry about, that being this sudden party. It’s no doubt being held by a frat house, and you have an inkling which house it is. You haven’t asked, trying not to pop the bubble of secureness that surrounds you. You can go to a party being held by the CSC. You can, and you will, and if it isn’t being held by them then that’s even better. You try to convince yourself you really don’t care at all, but the thought remains. Can you really enjoy yourself at a party being held by them? You don’t know why it bothers you so much or why you feel so uncomfortable having a good time around them, but you just keep repeating the same thing to yourself over and over. It doesn’t matter.

“Jieun told me what happened this morning.”

“Of course she did.” You sigh, staring ahead at the group of squirrels running up a tree. The people under it startle when leaves start to fall over their heads. “We just left each other, how did she find the time to text you all that?”

“She called me,” Seungmin cackles, braces on full display as he scribbles furiously into his notebook. “Every story I hear about you and Hyunjin is against my will.”

“Every interaction between me and Hyunjin is against my will,” You counter, shifting so that you face him. “What did she say?”

“That you laughed with him and it embarrassed you. That you’re confused about your feelings towards him.”

“So are you two my therapists now? I’m not confused. I don’t like the things he does— I don’t like his carefree attitude, how he has no problem talking to me like we’re friends. I don’t like- No, I hate the fact that so many people fucking praise him because he created some crude porn site.”

Your heart rate picks up, your hand gripping at your jeans as a poor attempt to conceal your growing frustration. “I don’t like the fact that no one else sees what’s wrong with it. We shouldn’t have a fucking porn site for college students? I don’t think we should know what we all look like under our clothes and I’m tired of everyone acting like I'm the crazy one. He’s the perverted one, the weird one. Who the fuck thinks of something like that? It’s not just him, it’s all of them.”

Seungmin ponders your words, the grip on his pen tightening ever so slightly. “Hyunjin is a good guy. All of them are, and if that’s how you feel then why do you talk to me? I use the site, I'm their friend, I’ve helped them out when making it. Aren’t I weird and perverted too?”

You sigh, “Seungmin…”

“Help me understand. Because if you can stand to be around me, then why can’t you be around them? Or try.”

“It isn’t the same and you know it. It’s easy to ignore it when it’s you. That’s them. They are the CSC to me. A reminder of everything I hate, what I want to get rid of.”

“But why the hell does it matter? People want to use the site and that’s why they do. No one is fucking forcing it.”

“You guys just don’t understand it. None of you do. It’s like you’re blinded by it or something.”

“We’re grown adults, Y/N,” Seungmin growls, “We don’t need you to be a guardian fucking angel.”

“Don’t make me out to be the bad guy, just because all you fucking care about is sex or some college sluts, like can you actually be that shallow?”

“Why is it so hard for you to see reason? Do you see how angry you’re getting at me for asking a simple question? You asked me what Jieun said and I told you.” Seungmin spits, shutting his book with a slam.

“Stop asking me about that site. Stop making me seem like some confused hateful person just because you’re too dense to understand where I’m coming from. I’m not confused, I know exactly how I feel. I try not to bring it up because you like the damn thing so much, and you can’t seem to hold the same courtesy for me.” You stand from the seat, settling a dark glare at Seungmin’s angered form.

“Fuck your friends, fuck that site. Stop talking about me like I need guidance.”

You’re not irrational. You’re not. You have every right to be angry. Seungmin is your friend. Jieun is your friend. They’re supposed to be there for you, not gang up on you. You feel alone, so alone in everything you fight for, in everything you aim to conquer— as if the things you stand for don’t matter. It reminds you of middle school all over again, of high school— having people look at you like you were something from another planet. Someone people had always failed to understand. It’s lonely. You’re not irrational.

You didn’t blow up. You’re not angry. You’re frustrated, yes, but you don’t blow up. You don’t get mad. You aren’t irrational. Anyone else in your position would feel the same, right? Anyone else would be upset because it feels like your friends always take the side of the people you despise more than anyone else. Why aren’t they on your side? Why don’t they believe you? Why don’t they understand? It makes you feel stupid. It makes you feel like you have no right to feel the way you do. It’s lonely.

You’ve never been irrational. You’ve always had a good grip on your feelings. Always. And when it feels like the grip loosens it’s always the cause of something relating to the CSC. It’s proof that it’s what the root of your problems is. It’s proof that the CSC needs to be gone so you can finally go back to normal. So you don’t feel like the odd one out. So you don’t have to feel so upset. Because you’re not irrational. You have every right to feel this way. You don’t get mad. You’re not angry. You don’t blow up.

You control everything, you control your actions, your emotions, and you make sure to hold control over your environment— of how things play out for every second of your life. This feels like it’s running out of control. That the CSC brings havoc in your life no matter what— even when you try to ignore it, it comes running back to fuck you over even further. You’re not irrational. You’re not confused. You don’t get mad. You don’t. You don’t blow up. You control everything.

The sun hides right when you need it. You pretend tears don’t blur your vision, you pretend that the suddenly gloomy environment doesn’t affect you the way it does. You pretend that the once comforting breeze doesn’t feel sharp against your exposed skin. You pretend because when things run out of control that’s all you can do. Pretend you’ve got it handled, pretend that you still have a grip on things, pretend that you understand. You’re not irrational. You have every right to feel this way.

You never argue with Seungmin. Playful bickering from time to time or you two being rude to each other but always playfully. You’ve never cursed at him so maliciously, spoken to him like he was someone random, as if he wasn’t your best friend. You’ve never done those things— but you do when the CSC is involved. You never get pissed at Jieun, even when she’s annoying, even when she acts like the only thing important in life is the new boy she’s talking to— You don’t get mad. You’re not mad now, but you’re something. Something fiery, and everything always goes back to the CSC. You’re not irrational. You’re just the only one who understands.

Right when you see the blurry form of your dorm building it gets blocked by a large body and you slam right into its chest. You can barely see in front of you and you know your face is screwed up into the worst form imaginable, tears falling with no control. Without your control.

“Sorry, excuse me,” You laugh wetly, sidestepping whoever is blocking your way and running up the steps to your dorm. The sooner you fall into your bed and cry this out, the sooner you can forget about it. The sooner you can apologize and move past this weird limbo of feelings. It feels like purgatory, stuck in the in between, not sure which direction you’ll end up going in. It’s full of unsureness, of frustration. It feels like a loss of control. It angers you, makes you feel like nothing is going right.

But you don’t get angry. You’re not irrational. You don’t get mad. You pretend, because that’s all you can do.

Hyunjin is confused.

The last thing he expected to see this morning was you laughing, but now, he realizes the last thing he ever expected to see was you crying. Eyes glossy with tears, a nose rubbed raw, face screwed up into something pitiful.

Hyunjin doesn’t know a lot of things. He doesn’t expect a lot of things, but most of all he doesn’t know how to continue after seeing it. He doesn’t expect to care so much, not after the way you’ve regarded him. After the way you’ve both regarded each other. He doesn’t know why he can’t walk away and say nothing when he knows he should. If he brings it up you’ll get defensive, be embarrassed, be angry. He shouldn’t say anything.

He keeps walking, frowning slightly at the gloomy clouds. It was so sunny less than an hour ago. Things change so quickly, it doesn’t make any sense. He thinks back to earlier that morning, the light that shone on your face with every laugh you let out. He thinks back to just a few seconds ago. How dark shadows fell over your face as tears ran down your cheeks.

The walk is more automatic than anything else. He doesn’t take the time to stare at the scenery, he doesn’t look at the people around him. He barely sees the ground in front of him as he walks, his mind not registering what’s right in front of his face. He’s too caught up in you. Like usual, wondering why you do the things you do, why you feel the way you feel, wanting to understand. What did he do? What can he do to make you feel better? How can he make you hate him any less? He wants to understand, he wants to listen, to talk to you, to be near you. It confuses him.

His phone vibrates, pulling him from his thoughts. It’s chan, texting about the party on Saturday, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He’s so tired, tired of running around for parties, tired of attending to the site, tired of waking up early for classes. He just wants a second to sit down and relax, to not worry about you ruining the one thing he’s worked hard for, to not worry about what class he’s flunking, about what party he’s expected to attend, to not worry about why you were crying in the middle of the afternoon. He just wants a moment to collect his thoughts and free his mind.

HJ: I got it

BC: alr cool, put it in the cabinet with the lock, you know how Hyunjoon gets

HJ: Fuck, is it that bad?

BC: he’s an alcoholic bud, it’s that bad.

Hyunjin laughs a little, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He wonders if Seungmin told you about the party yet and grimaces, wondering if that’s the reason why you were crying. If it is, he’s not sure who needs to get a grip. You, for hating him so bad, or him for continuing to try and get you not to. It takes a lot of effort for him to continue the power walk back to the frat, but he arrives sooner than later, stuffing the bag of drinks inside the cabinet and locking it shut. He thinks it’s a bit ridiculous that they have to lock the alcohol up as if they have small kids running around, and also wonders the effectiveness when Hyunjoon lives in a frat house and is an adult who can buy his own alcohol.

It’s Thursday afternoon but he finds that he’s not as excited for a party as he should be. Usually, he’d be bouncing on his heels, counting down the hours for it to start, and realizing he’s so caught up in everything else going around he doesn’t feel that normal excitement that he so often does. He makes sure to fix that, shaking the unnecessary thoughts from his head, pushing responsibilities to later. He has a party to prepare for and he's gonna act like it.

The rest of the boys don’t get back till later— they’d given Hyunjin the responsibility of buying cups and drinks and shitty snacks while they went off somewhere else. Hyunjin can’t keep track of what they do especially if he’s not joining, so he focuses on doing what he’s supposed to in order to make this the best party of the year so far. His frat has always held the record of best parties— has always held their winnings in high regard as well, and he’ll be damned if he gets the cold shoulder if he’s the reason the party isn’t as good as it should be. Most of all, he’s thinking about what he’s gonna do during it.

Hyunjin is not shy on having sex— never has been, never will be, and more often than not he’s having it. Sure, that may be expected since he made a literal porn site, but Jisung also had a hand in it and he has a girlfriend. Felix doesn’t have one-night stands often, nor does Seungmin. It’s different for all of them.

He knows there’s a few girls that have been actively trying to get in his pants, knows that he’s been trying to get into theirs, but he can only hope he can focus on them for long enough to do so without thinking about you. If you come, he knows that there’s no chance he’ll think of anything else, and he’ll probably spend the entire night just getting you to laugh again. To get you to explain to him why. why why why. It’s confusing, but he pretends it doesn’t matter.

Thursday comes and goes too quickly, and Friday does as well. The day isn’t over yet, it’s only the afternoon, but the implications of that make you anxious. Make your nerves ignite far more than they should.

Seungmin didn’t answer your calls for the rest of that Thursday. Didn’t read or respond to a single text until you decided to leave him alone. Jieun called, but you didn’t answer. You think the way you felt towards her is the way Seungmin felt towards you. Maybe something worse, so you gave him space and took some for yourself, a moment to really think about what made you react the way you did. You don’t think you’re in the wrong, you still don’t think you could’ve reacted any other way and you’re not sure what that says about you.

You take another bite of your sandwich as you walk down the street from the Art store, your phone cradled in your other hand and a drink poking out from the opening in your bag. It’s hard to mentally prepare for things that you don’t know anything about. You don’t know where the party is, who’s hosting it, how long you’re expected to stay. Thought that’s if you’re even still going. You want to take Seungmin’s silence as an answer that no, you aren’t, but you also don’t want to assume that and then he shows up at your door and you’re not ready.

You don’t want to go, not at all, but if it made Seungmin happy then you would. If he didn’t come to pick you up you briefly entertained finding your own way to the party and cornering him, forcing him to hear your apology before leaving and soaking your pillow with tears. But you don’t know where the party is. You also briefly entertained the idea of calling Jieun and asking her, but you’re not interested in the lecture that would come from that. You still don’t appreciate her words about you to Seungmin and the implication of them. Seungmin is your friend, you can tell him what happened all by yourself. You don't need Jieun to play messenger.

You swallow the last of your lunch and throw the wrapper in the nearest trash can. You want to start a new painting, one that can unleash the frustrations of your life as it is right now, and you can only do that by getting some new supplies. You save up constantly for this exact reason— for the ability to buy whatever your heart desires whenever it desires it. You dip your toes into whatever interests you, and all concepts of Art satisfies you more than anything. Writing whatever you desire, taking pictures of the things you find beautiful, painting whatever you want— it gives you the control that fuels you more than anything else.

The art shop by your university is quaint, always quiet and never very full, yet always filled with high quality supplies and fully stocked. You’ve made friends with the old lady who owns it and her daughter, constantly going there just to buy something in order to catch up with them on whatever has happened since your last visit. They’re like the mother and sister you never had, people who feel more like family than your own. It’s partly for that reason that you’ve made the trek there, hoping to get some advice for the things you’ve been feeling before going to the party that’s undoubtedly being held by the one group of people you despise.

The bells above the door jingle when you step in, and you let the smell of paint, chalk, crayons, pens, and faint air freshener soothe you. It’s just as cluttered as it’s always been— stacks upon stacks of sketchbooks and canvases on one side situated next to the easels and small desks. The paints have a section of their own, oil, watercolor, acrylic, matte, and more— on the opposite side there’s pens and crayons, colored pencils, oil pastels, and sharpeners of all shapes and sizes.

The walls are covered in paint as if before bringing in all the items they’d had fun splattering the walls in color. It’s messy, unruly, cluttered, and barely organized— so it doesn’t make sense to you why it comforts you so much. When you see a small form hobble out from behind a stack of books a smile forms unbiddenly on your face, and the small old lady smiles back.

“I missed you, dear,” She scolds, wrapping you up in a hug. “It’s been too long since you’ve come to visit.”

“I know, I’ve just been busy Ms. Yang. I missed you.” You sigh, rubbing your nose in the soft fabric of her sweater. She smells like paint and flowers— she smells like home.

“Sam will be here soon, she’d love to see you.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. I need to talk to her too.”

“I can tell, child. You look stressed.” She sighs, shuffling behind the counter and sitting on one of the other seats behind it. “Get what you’re looking for,” She says waving a hand dismissively towards you.” I won’t make you explain it twice.”

You huff lightheartedly, making your way over to the canvases and picking one of medium proportions. You’re still not sure what it is you want to paint, but you know whatever you’re feeling is strong enough that you grab Oil paint, needing something rich and vibrant and something sharper to contrast the muddled and cloudy image of your mind.

It’s before long that you settle on a brand you normally buy, and the set of bells signal someone’s arrival into the shop. You turn your head, expecting to see Sam and her long curly hair, beautiful in its volume and her tawny brown skin, but instead you’re greeted with the sight of straight brown hair, swept behind the ears of a tall man, a mole under his eye and the reason for all your problems. You don’t know why you react the way you do, but with your items cradled in your hand you sprint behind a large stack of sketchbooks and hold your breath, staring with wide eyes at the cans of paint at your feet.

What the fuck is Hwang Hyunjin doing at your shop? This is your safe place— your safe haven. A part of you curses the ground he walks on, hopes that the store is too messy and cluttered for his liking, prays that he proves he’s as shallow as the company he keeps and that he leaves and doesn’t come back. Another part of you hates yourself for being so ridiculous. For letting your personal feelings about him delve so far that you’d think something like that. Sam and Mrs.Yang deserve the business, deserve the money, deserve the customers. You shouldn’t hope for anything different— but it still amazes you how he never fails to intrude on the things you hold dear. To intrude on the things you want to keep to yourself.

You don’t move from the spot you’re in. It could’ve been ten minutes, an hour, even, or maybe it was only thirty seconds, but you only peek out when you hear Sam’s voice ring through the shop. You survey the room, stepping out from your hiding spot when you confirm that Hyunjin is nowhere to be found. Though, you don’t think you could’ve hid regardless by the way Sam calls your name.

“Hi, Sammy,” You smile, coming up to pull her into a hug. She grips you tightly, her kinky hair tickling your cheek and her clothes smelling faintly of vanilla and roses. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, hun,” Sam smiles, albeit a little sadly as she looks over your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Hey, don’t leave a poor old lady out,” Mrs. Yang huffs, “Come over here and tell us both about it.”

Without even saying anything they’ve already cheered you up, your steps feeling lighter as you make your way behind the counter and sit on one of the three seats. You sit between them both, their eyes set patiently but concerningly on you.

“I don’t know, really,” You start, and then, you tell them. About your argument with Seungmin, about how lonely it is feeling like you’re the only one feeling this way, about how much the site angers you— how it makes you feel. You tell them about Hyunjin, about how he doesn’t stop bothering you no matter how much you make it obvious you don’t want his company. How much that frustrates you, as well, and about how the lack of control over the entire situation, and over the CSC’s place in your life makes you uncomfortable, and about how the CSC itself makes you feel things you’ve never felt before and how much that scares you. You can barely describe the way it does, and who else can you blame besides its creators.

When you’re done it feels like you’ve vented a lifelong event, it makes a heavy weight lift itself off your shoulders and the heavy silence that remains doesn’t feel like judging, but rather them trying to understand— soaking up the meaning of every word you said in an attempt to place themselves in your shoes.

“I think,” Sam starts, “That your cluelessness about your feelings towards the site in general turns into anger, and the fact that the boy,”

“Hyunjin”, You offer.

“Yes, I think his attempts at speaking to you only worsen it somehow, like you’re being cornered by this weird feeling that you don’t understand and it makes you even angrier.”

“You said your friend is a part of it?” Mrs.Yang interjects, a wrinkly hand kneading your shoulder.

“Yeah,” You murmur, “He’s good friends with the group and he loves the website.”

“That probably doesn’t help then,” She continues, “If you’re surrounded by people who know what they like or enjoy something you don’t like or don’t understand, of course you’re going to feel angry. You feel like the odd one out.”

“I think more than anything you need to figure out if it’s really anger you’re feeling, and if the only reason why you hate this website is not because of its purpose but because of your lack of control over it.” Sam finishes.

“I can’t say I agree with it either,” Mrs.Yang grunts, “It’s not something I think college students need to be worrying about. Things like that stick with you, but it’s their choice to indulge in it, Y/n, you can’t control that.”

You sigh. You guess so, but you still feel like you need to get rid of it. You’ve been slacking, not paying attention to it as much as you should because of all the chaos it’s creating. It’s been a while since you’ve done a petition or made a list of ideas as an attempt to shut it down, but for now it seems like enough to just hate it. They can’t change your mind. Not Seungmin, not Sam, not Jieun, not Mrs.Yang, not Chan or Changbin or Minho— not any of them, and especially not Hyunjin. You just want to be hateful in peace and you don’t know why you don’t seem to be allowed to do that.

You leave the shop feeling lighter, but also like you didn’t actually get any good advice. Sure they validated your feelings, but that’s it. You’ve been trying to figure out your feelings. You know why you’re frustrated, and even though it felt good to be validated it also felt like a waste. You hold the bag of art supplies closer to you as you walk. The sun is setting, painting the sky reds, and oranges, and purples— and you think maybe you’ll paint that. To represent the end of the turmoil that surrounds you, as something hopeful.

You relish in the soft slope of your shoulders, in the relaxation you so rarely feel nowadays, and walk briskly to your dorm so you can fall into your bed and try to forget about the fact that there’s a party you’re supposed to be at tomorrow.

And as if the thought brought it on, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out quicker than you’d ever admit and a relieved smile pulls on your lips when you see it’s from Seungmin.

pup: be ready by 9

you: ok!!!!!

you: i miss you

There’s no more responses but you don’t let that dampen your mood. He still wants you to go with him and that says enough. You do feel terrible about the way you acted— the way you’ve been acting— but you know it’s justified. You’re not irrational. Not at all.

If you collapse at the foot of your bed, art supplies sitting on the floor by your feet, and a paper by your head titled #686, no one has to know.

This Saturday has not been a day of relaxation for you. You didn’t have any plans, though instead of enjoying the peace you so rarely received, the day consisted of you running around your room with a frazzled energy following behind like a ghost. At first you contemplated showing up in a sweater and jeans; no makeup, no jewelry, just you and a lazy fit— but realized that would only bring you even more stares than if you dressed as slutily as possible.

It’s with a black leather mini skirt and a black, lacy, low cut long sleeve tucked inside that you finally allow yourself to relax. You’re probably dressed way too flashily for a college party, but you can’t entertain any thoughts like that or you’ll spend the next three hours obsessing over it— and that’s three hours that you don’t have. Knee length boots stare at you from the door and it’s with a sigh that you walk to the door and put them on.

There’s more reasons to be nervous than just the party, between the inevitable walk with Seungmin to the encounter you’re most definitely going to have with the CSC and all of its users, you’re out of your element. There’s not enough deep breaths to make you calm down, there’s no method available to help clear your mind. Your heart races much more than should be healthy. It feels like hell, even, and all you can do is let this plethora of nerves run its course.

When your phone buzzes with Seungmin’s ‘I’m outside’ text, it almost feels like your heart stops. Fuck, Seungmin’s gonna ask who you’re all dressed up for, gonna ask why you’re so nervous. Why are you all dressed up? Why are you even going? It’s too much, too much of not knowing, not understanding, not feeling right. What will it take to get you to feel right? Like in freshman year when your biggest worry was whether or not you were passing your classes, now it feels like that's a lifetime ago. Like you’ve encountered way too much to even consider anything like that— not that you need to worry about it anyway. It was supposed to be a carefree year for you. You’re always on top of your responsibilities, always prepared, and nothing ever changed that until you went on that site for the first and last time.

You stop, relax your shoulders, take a deep breath that’s otherwise pointless, and step out the door. You curse the day you ever went on that website. It’s why everything is all messed up now, but you rid those thoughts from your mind. You’re determined to have fun tonight no matter what, and no matter who’s there.

Seungmin waits at the door, A button-down hanging off his shoulders and jeans. His hair is combed back and he’s ditched the glasses.

“Hey.” It comes out meeker than you’d like, a little too timid for what your relationship with Seungmin is.

“Hey,” he smiles, the braces you love so much on full display. Your best friend is beautiful, and it’s with a pang to your chest, it’s with seeing him now— so welcoming and so normal with you— that a small part of you realizes maybe you have been being irrational. Maybe you have been acting too strongly, but then you remind yourself that you’ve never been irrational. Never.

“So I’m guessing we’re going to the CSC’s dorm?”

“You’ll fit right in,” Seungmin laughs, starting to walk. You struggle to catch up to him; it’s been so long since you last wore heels that it’s hard to get used to. You don’t grace his comment with an answer, simply relishing in the soft nightly breeze and the shine of the moon. The stars glitter from above you, light years away yet so visible. So sure of their stance in life. You don’t think stars blow up at their best friends, or feel confused, or feel lonely.

You arrive at the party all too soon. From a block away you could see people drunk, staggering in the same direction, and from down the street you could hear the bass of the music, but the warning signs weren’t nearly enough to prepare you for the actual sight of it. It’s like the typical house parties you’d see on TV, but louder and more nerve-wracking. People hang out in front, the music loud enough for them to enjoy even from outside the building. Lights flash from behind the window, an array of purples, greens, reds, and blues. You can see people's shadows from behind the curtains over the front windows, and you feel like you’re about to throw up.

“Oh god,” You mumble, taking a few shaky steps inside. You can't do this. You’re gonna freak out and embarrass yourself. You can almost feel the anxiety seeping from your pores, and the word no repeats over and over in your head like a mantra.

No no no no no.

You can’t do this, but you do it anyway. Stepping inside the party is a feat in itself, and you can’t tell if your hands are shaking from the strong bass of the music or because of pure anxiety. The music knocks into your body so strongly that your knees buckle, barely able to hold you upright. At any moment you feel like you might collapse.

You can’t do it but you do it anyway, taking one step and then another, and when the door closes behind you, you resist the urge to turn back and run away. The party is full of people— so full that it’s impossible to walk anywhere without bumping into someone, and despite your best efforts you do get stares. Whether it’s because of what you’re wearing or if it’s because it’s you at a party being held by the CSC… you’re not entirely sure. You don’t think it makes a difference. You try to ignore it, act unbothered, and it must work because after a while they look away, murmuring something or the other about what you’re doing there.

Seungmin drags you away from the door and to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and cabinets like it’s his home. You take in the somewhat chill vibe of the kitchen compared to everywhere else. It’s not nearly as full, but there are couples at opposite ends acting as if it isn’t a place where food is kept.

You take a few deep breaths, reassure yourself that you can do this, and even if you can’t you’ll do it anyway. Seungmin doesn’t say anything, just pours you something sweet and fruity in a red cup and hands it over with a raise of his eyebrows. You drink it way too quickly and you know you’re gonna regret it later, but you need the effect it’ll bring. The faux calmness that’ll help you get through the night. Though with how full the party is you think that you won’t be able to see the hosts anytime soon if at all, and that’s enough to bring your heart to a stuttering stop before it resumes its beating in a much more slow paced manner. You’re still not calm, but you’re doing your best.

“Try to relax,” Seungmin chides, his gaze heavy where it bores into you. “Everything will be just fine.”

You nod, taking a more calculated sip of your drink this time. You let the music relax you instead of startle you— focusing on the beats and the melody— on the lyrics, instead of the volume and how it makes your body tremble. You can do this.

When you finally feel like you’re able to relax, Seungmin parts from you, saying there’s some people he has to see. You’re an adult, so you can handle being alone for a few minutes. Eventually, though, the few minutes turn into something longer. You wonder if maybe Seungmin is still upset with you— you didn’t speak much about it on the walk like you thought you would. Honestly, it was mostly silence, and you didn’t think much of it before but you are now. You hold your drink close to your chest, dubbing it your life line for the night.

You last all of thirty minutes before you feel like you’re getting too hot— the building only gets even more stuffy as more people arrive, all of you packaged like a can of sardines. You take the fleeting burst of confidence to leave the kitchen and go to the backyard, hoping that it’ll be a bit more peaceful (as peaceful as possible considering the music blasting), and allow the fresh air to graze your skin like a soft blanket. You sit down on one of the benches in the backyard, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. What will it take to feel at peace? Maybe there’s nothing you can do. And it’s with these thoughts that you do exactly what you shouldn’t do at a party, wallowing in self pity and confusion. You’re so caught up in these thoughts that you don’t notice when someone else joins you.

“Hey, bug.”

Your head whips up faster than what’s comfortable, and you barely hide the wince that struggles to leave your lips. Hyunjin speaks again before you can respond.

“Don’t leave, alright. Please?” He asks, sitting down beside you and smoothing his hands over his pants. “Can we talk?”

“About?”

“About us? About you? I’m tired of running in circles and I want to know why you hate me— the CSC so much.”

You’re silent for a moment, contemplating, thinking. You should get up, leave the backyard and this party altogether. You should ignore whatever it is Hyunjin has to say because he’s the reason for all this, right? Why is he always pretending he doesn’t know; acting like he wants to get to know you? Acting like it really matters how you feel. Everyone wants to understand, everyone wants to know why, but you don’t even know— but you’ll never admit it outright. You’ll never say the one thing that’s been your driven principle for the past year is something you’re unsure about. All you know is that it’s bad, that it’s made you feel ways that were foreign to you, and in order to regain control you need to get rid of it. No matter how anyone else feels about it, no matter who gets upset with you along the way. You need to do it.

Your voice is soft, but not meek. For once, you’re gonna get this entire experience off your chest. “When I first went on the site in the beginning of freshman year I was curious,” You start, glancing at Hyunjin and feeling the tightness in your chest return when you realize he’s already looking at you. “At first, I was curious, and then I was confused. I clicked on a few videos— I scrolled for a while— and I started to get this weird feeling. The more I watched the videos, the more I scrolled through pictures and posts, the feeling got stronger.”

You feel so stupid, but you continue. If Hyunjin makes fun of you he’s just proving your assumptions correct. “I’d never felt that way before and honestly, it kinda scared me, and it was annoying that I didn’t understand it. I didn’t do anything after that. I ignored how fast my heart was beating, how my body was reacting, and never went on that site again. Slowly, that confusion turned into anger— it’s not normal. The way I felt wasn’t normal, and that’s why I think that site needs to get shut down.”

“Bug…” Hyunjin laughs a little and you want to be offended, but you can tell it’s more shock than amusement. “Bug have you ever had sex? Or.. touched yourself at all?”

Your mouth opens and closes comically, but Hyunjin is patient, waiting and watching carefully for you to speak. “Is that what’s important?” You finally say, your eyebrows furrowed and you’re ready to defend yourself if need be. “No, I haven’t.”

“God, bug this is…” Hyunjin squints at you, “I think you were aroused.”

You splutter, feeling your heart rate spike in embarrassment. “What!? No. No.”

“That weird feeling? That heat in your gut,” Hyunjin says, and to punctuate he lays a large, warm, hand over your stomach. “You were horny.” This time, Hyunjin’s laugh is one of amusement, but you're too distracted by how big his hand is, splayed over your stomach and so warm it feels like it’s burning through your clothes.

“Hyunjin, the feeling— no, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Bug, if you’ve never ever been aroused before somehow, of course it felt weird. Holy shit.”

You don’t say anything, but Hyunjin continues before you can get a grip on your thoughts.

“I can’t believe this is the reason why you’ve hated us for so long, I honestly can’t believe it.”

“Hyunjin… that feeling wasn’t pleasurable. Control is pleasurable. I didn’t have a grip on anything that day and barely regained it on the days following. You can’t convince me that getting rid of the CSC won’t bring back a sense of normalcy. You can’t, and even if you’re right, I think that morally, the site is still wrong, and I’m not going to stop trying to shut it down.”

“There’s so much about the CSC you don’t know about, and there’s so much more to pleasure than control.” Hyunjin sighs, clearly more at ease now that he realizes you’re just confused. You don’t know, really, why you hate them. That’s clear. You’re stubborn though, he can tell, and even if this idea he has works— he’s not sure you’ll stop until you get what you want.

Earlier that day the CSC received an email from the dean, threatening that they’ll start looking into all that their site entails because of how often you keep badgering them about it. It’s starting to create a murmur between staff, and they’re growing increasingly frustrated. All that means to Hyunjin is you’re finally breaking through their resolve, running them down enough for them to consider shutting it down or supervising more intensely. Hyunjin can’t have that. None of them can. When Hyunjin approached you tonight he expected to have to beg— to have to plead with you to stop meddling. The site is bigger than you know, more important than some college stupidity. It rakes in a lot of cash, and he can’t have such petty reasoning stop that flow.

Hyunjin’s voice is husky as he continues and his words send an undeniable shiver down your spine “I can show you that the site, and sex by association aren’t bad at all. Mentally, you’re confused and physically, you’re pent up. We can’t have that can we, pretty girl?”

“No, we can’t.”

Wait. What? Yes, we can. Yes you can. You’ve been doing just fine right? You don’t need Hyunjin’s help. He’s not gonna change your mind because your mind doesn’t need changing.

“You can try to shut us down, but at the same time let us help you.”

“Us?” You murmur, attempting to understand what exactly is happening.

“All of us, the CSC can help you figure out what you’re feeling, right? We can help you decide what to do.”

“…You can help me?”

Hyunjin hums, removing his hand from your waist and trailing his finger along the skin just above the hem of your shirt. His fingers dip over your cleavage, tug at your necklace, up and up until your chin is in his hand, and he turns you to face him as his lips brush your cheek. “I want to see who will succeed first, so let me show you that there’s more to pleasure than control.”

He can help you. Out of all the people who ask you why, who say they want to understand but don’t try, he’s the one who’s offering a solution. As annoying as he’s always been to you, as much as he’s always embodied something you hate— the person who’s embedded such foreign feelings in your mind— he wants to help you. He wants to try, and he’s not telling you to stop your goal either. He’s not telling you it’s stupid, he’s not getting angry. He doesn’t make you feel irrational. You’re not irrational. You have a goal and it’s one you’re gonna complete, but… it doesn’t hurt to try, right? And if you succeed, if you shut them down and Hyunjin fails— if the CSC fails you’ll win. You’ll win and prove that you were right all along.

“Go easy on me.”

“Of course, bug.”

You keep your eyes downcast in embarrassment as Hyunjin whispers against your skin, his fingers gently turning your chin up and over to the point of focus. His lips. Pouty, sinfully crimson, curving upwards so surely, like they themselves know their effect on people. They look so soft, so wet. You want to feel them, and it’s as if Hyunjin’s read your mind because his lips are on yours before you can even blink.

“You just kissed me,” Your voice is airy, breathless, and usually you’d be embarrassed.

“Can I do it again?”

There’s a simmering, boiling tension both of you have been ignoring but you’ve lost the will to care about hating Hyunjin or Chan or the CSC. Momentarily, you’ve lost the will to feel much at all but a burning desire to take away any negative emotion you feel. You’re sick of it, sick of feeling confused. Last night you’d dealt with it by crying your eyes out, before that you’d dealt with it by having a screaming match with your best friend, and now you’re ready to look for something to fix it. This just might be the best way to start.

“Not outside.” You whisper, your hands clutching the fabric of Hyunjin’s shirt with such an intensity you’re afraid it’ll rip off then and there.

The trip inside and upstairs is a blur. You’re sure if anyone saw you they stared, wondering what you two were doing together, wondering what you were going upstairs for. It’s a blur, nothing is clear but what you’re going to do at this moment, and with Hwang Hyunjin of all people. Of what you’re going to do in the future, with the CSC of all people, what you’re gonna do to them— what you’re gonna allow them to do to you— that’s the only thing on the forefront of your mind. Not about who’s watching, not about who wants to know. It’s about you. You’re the one in control, you’re the one who gets to decide. You’re the one who needs to know.

Warm. You feel warm all over, pressed against Hyunjin with his thighs spreading yours open, warm in his tight embrace. Your hands are clutching at his clothes, at his arms— It’s so hot, yet somehow the constant cool air of the room makes you shiver.

“W-what do I do?”

Hyunjin chuckles, his voice the softest you’ve ever heard it. “You don’t have to do anything, pretty. Let me handle it.”

Letting Hyunjin handle anything doesn’t sound like a very good idea to you in any instance, but in this case you let him. You’re otherwise clueless in this area and frankly, if you want his help you’re going to have to accept it when it’s given. His mouth lands back on yours, a certain kind of desire running through the kiss. His hands are all over you. Trying to grab at every inch he can, and you try your best to kiss him back with equal intensity— to move your lips against his with the same fervor.

Your heart kicks up an irritating notch when Hyunjin slides a warm hand up your shirt. You can feel the way his fingers ghost over your skin with an unnatural intensity, as if his touch is amplified tenfold. And if Hyunjin had imagined this during late nights, cock shamelessly fisted in his hand as he dreamt of you pushing your panties to the side for him to enter your tight hole, no one has to know.

“Look at me, pretty,” Hyunjin growls, your eyes opening at his command against your better judgement. His pupils are dilated, staring down at you with a foreign intensity. The way he looks at you is an awakening, and with a small burst of confidence, you bury your fingers into the collar of his shirt, bringing him down for another kiss. It’s a little awkward with your inexperience, all teeth and clumsy movements until he takes the lead. His lips feel like heaven and you want them everywhere, want to kiss him forever. You want to sink his soft groans into your skin, keep the taste of him on your tongue for the rest of your days as he licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before— kissing you into blissful dizziness.

"I wonder why you're so pretty, hm? Been torturing me for months, sweet thing," Hyunjin teases, pressing your thighs farther apart, tongue pushing against yours, his lips cherry red. You want to kiss him again. "I don’t think you really hate me, bug.”

Your breath hitches when his hands move to your skirt, slipping under the hem and holding the fabric tightly. God, you feel so bare. Like Hyunjin is looking at you from the inside out. When he pulls your skirt down slowly, so slowly it feels like time stands still, all that’s on your mind is him. His breathing, his touch, his warmth. When your pink, lacy panties come into view the chuckle Hyunjin lets out is so deep it feels like a heavy blanket over your mind, soothing you yet igniting something in you that you didn’t know existed. God, you’re in the demon's bed but you feel like you’ve gotten a taste of heaven, and when those soft, cherry red lips ghost over your skin, trailing over your pelvis, leaving light kisses along your skin, all you can do is jerk in his hold. You’re so sensitive. So, so sensitive.

His hands grip your waist tightly and his lips trail upwards, the bridge of his nose pushing your shirt up until it’s so high your breasts threaten to fall, smothering Hyunjin’s face underneath them. You shiver at the thought, those sinful lips pressing kisses against the skin of your breasts; what would it feel like? Would it feel like this? This feeling that you’re still so unfamiliar with?

"Pretty girls deserve to know what it feels like to have me right here,” Hyunjin starts, leaning down to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. He bites and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet whimpers and yelps. You didn’t know you could make sounds like that. He slides a hand up between your thighs and rubs between your folds, still covered by your lacy panties. “Did you come to impress someone tonight?” Hyunjin murmurs, before splitting them to rub your clit through the fabric. You feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before it gets stuck— you can’t make a sound.

You faintly hear the rustle of clothing and the absence of Hyunjin’s touch, opening your eyes to see him pulling his shirt off, biceps flexing as he does. He’s so big, and fuck, his whole body could cover your own if he really wanted. He towers over you, caging you in and surrounding you from all sides. When his shirt is off and thrown somewhere to the floor, he looms over you, his hands pressing into the bedding at either side of your head, and all you can do is gasp— your eyes widening at his proximity.

“You okay?” He whispers, and you nod.

“Yes.”

It’s breathless. It’s not you. It’s not the person who wanted nothing to do with Hyunjin only a day ago, but you want answers. You want clarity. And right now, you want this.

Hyunjin wastes no time after your confirmation, his fingers slipping under your panties and ghosting over your skin. He lets out a harsh breath at the feeling where you’re otherwise silent, trusting that he knows what to do. When a rush of cool air blows over you though, your legs close instinctively, and Hyunjin hums, “Stay with me, bug.”

“I’m here,” You respond, slowly spreading your legs back wide and allowing him to pull your underwear down until they’re hanging off ur ankle, your arousal sticks to the fabric, but with a flick of his wrist they’re gone. They’re gone. Oh god. You’re really doing this. You take a deep breath, and when a warm hand comes to cradle your cheek you lean into the warmth. It’s okay. You’re okay.

Soft lips press against your skin, tainting the unmarked flesh with bites and bruises. He paints your neck purple and blue, fingers ghosting between your thighs, tracing and playing with the obvious wetness coating your arousal. His mouth travels upwards, pressing against your own as he claims your lips in a devouring kiss. Everything is on fire, hot and burning as lust begins to entirely consume you for the first time.

A small moan slips past your lips as he dips a finger into your slick, warm cunt, and you clench around the digit almost immediately as instinct. The cool air and your nerves make your thighs tremble, but it doesn’t seem to affect Hyunjin— not at all— if the way he keeps eye contact with you while he fingers you slowly is any indicator. Painfully slow. You don’t know if this is to help you or torture you, and you can’t help the way your thighs tense under his ministrations.

The man before you reaches his other hand towards the hem of your top to pinch the edge of it between an index finger and thumb, and pulls the cloth away from your skin.

His eyes bore into yours: “This okay?”

“Fuck, the more you ask me the more nervous I get.”

“Okay, okay. I don’t wanna make you nervous.”

“Just… be nice to me, Hyunjin. Okay?”

Hyunjin smiles, and you exhale, relaxing into Hyunjin’s sheets and letting his musky cologne consume your senses as his touch roams everywhere else.

And then finally— yet all too quickly— the shirt is tugged away from your breasts and they fall freely as Hyunjin eagerly leans closer. His nose presses against one of your hardened nipples, and you watch his pupils dilate quicker than you thought was possible. He’s barely holding back the urge to fuck you dumb, and the finger that still thrusts slowly into your cunt stutters in its movements.

Look at you. His eyes roam over the look on your face, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, bright eyes glazed over and hooded in a bliss that’s otherwise foreign to you, a particular ease directed towards him. Then he shamelessly let his eyes drop down to your thighs that tremble even harsher under his gaze. The action only forces his mind to run wild. He can’t help but wonder how you do it— looking all innocent— being all innocent but acting like you’re not. Like you’re so sure. You’re confused, god, you don’t know what real pleasure is— and it’s Hyunjin’s job to teach you. Fuck, did he want to be under you, gazing up at your through half lidded eyes, hungrily eating up the sight of you bouncing on his cock like the slut you could be.

He dipped his head down, holding your breast in his large hand and rubbing over your nipples with his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. Your hands automatically perched themselves on his shoulders, and he grins, moving the finger thrusting into your cunt harsher, faster.

“Oh, god,” You moan, loud, your grip on his bare shoulders tightening ever so slight. His skin was warm under your fingers— soft and smooth and fuck if it didn’t feel good.

He groans, cock stiffening more than it already had. At this rate he was probably going to cum in his pants untouched, but he held himself back. He wanted to do this right— show you all that pleasure could be. He moved his mouth from your nipple to slip lower, down lower and lower still until he came face to face with your arousal.

“Fuck. You’re driving me crazy.”

“Oh- oh Hyunjin help me, please,” You pleaded, his shoulders too far to grip onto; your hands instead finding his hair, running your fingers through and pulling when he nosed at your clit, groaning heartily when your wetness clinged to his skin.

It’s with a lick to your clit that you wail, your thighs threatening to close, and they would have if Hyunjin’s hands hadn’t reached out to force them down, pushing further and sticking his face into your arousal with more fervor, licking and sucking with such vigor that it felt as if he was trying to devour you. Your thighs trembled with every movement of his tongue, poking and prodding at every inch of your cunt, his nose dug against your clit and for a moment it felt like you were seeing stars. Your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth letting out uncontrollable moans.

You didn’t think it’d feel this good. But, you remind yourself, control feels better. You can’t let him change that— he won’t change that.

The obscene sounds that came from his actions should’ve embarrassed you, but nothing like that came to mind. Hyunjin was relentless, and you couldn’t even think of anything more than the feeling of his hair between your fingers and his tongue slurping at your cunt.

You tried to quiet your moans by clamping a hand over your mouth, but sitting up and watching the way he sucked and licked at your arousal made your head spin. He made the action so nasty. So filthy. He was wild yet careful. But what did you know? All you knew was that it was driving you insane and you didn’t know anything could feel this good.

Besides control, of course. And you assume, the eradication of the CSC would, also.

Suddenly, your stomach tenses, your body locking up, and you quickly cream all over his tongue, shaky moans slipping through your pretty lips. Your thighs shook from the aftershock, trying to come down from this feeling. Afterwards, Hyunjin’s actions felt too harsh. He didn’t change pace at all, but it felt like your body was going to arch its way into oblivion. Unable to ignore the sensitivity of your body any longer, you pushed against his head until he stopped, attempting to catch your breath.

“You okay?”

You hum, begging the beating of your heart to soften, though as soon as it finally did you looked back at Hyunjin and saw his pants sliding down his legs. His toned, muscular legs, and it started its harsh beating once again. That wasn’t it? Of course, that’s wasn’t it, but fuck. You don’t know if you can handle anything more.

The headboard of his bed knocks against the wall as he climbs back up on the bed, moving his body closer this time and instead of only his chest hovering over you, this time his legs cage you in, one on either side, as your heart pounds itself into oblivion.

One hand supported his weight on the pillow by your head while the other was preoccupied, curled around his cock as he stared down at you— something akin to a beast in his gaze. Tip reddened and precum oozing from the slit while he groaned. The tingly feeling in your groin was coming back, similar to the fluttering you always felt whenever Hyunjin would come bother you. It intensifies when Hyunjin wraps your legs around his waist and pulls you closer to him, your body dragging the bedding from under you and you yelp.

He rubs the tip of his cock against your twitching folds, teasing actions feeling more like torture before he finally sinks in. Slowly, deliberately, but you still tense. It’s scary, having something stick itself inside of you.

“Relax,” Hyunjin murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Stay with me.”

You do your best, forcing your body to relax, as he sinks deeper and deeper still. Hyunjin grunts softly when you clench down on him, and he sighs as you blink dazedly up at him.

Pretty eyes are locked intensely on your cunt, Hyunjin watching the slide of his cock as he thrusts inside. His hair is plastered along his sweat slicken forehead, and he sinks back into your slick walls with another languid roll of his hips.

“Fuck you’re so tight, baby.”

You moan, high and light, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss while Hyunjin’s chest expands with a shaky breath. He rolls his hips into yours— sinking his cock into your virgin cunt saying the filthiest words you’ve ever known before his words break off into a moan, his tone lower and deeper than his playful one. Tonight you’re seeing a whole new side of him— a new persona. This isn’t the annoying Hwang Hyunjin who bothers you and calls you ‘bug’, this is the Hwang Hyunjin everyone else knows. The one you hadn’t met yet.

“Oh, please don’t stop— be nice to me,” You babble, your hands grabbing at whatever you can— his shoulders, his back, his hair; and that’s all it takes before he suddenly takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher as your pussy squelches, wet and messy while your arousal smears along your thighs and the sheets.

Your body jolts with each thrust, pussy clenching around him as Hyunjin moans—every twitch and squeeze of your pussy leaving him breathless. “Come on, baby,” He pleads, and you don’t know what to do. You’re too lost in the haze of pleasure that’s taken over you— you can’t hear past the slap of your skin and Hyunjin’s groans in your ear. You know you’re moaning, but you can barely hear yourself. It’s all Hyunjin. Him all over you, surrounding you, making you feel good.

He grunts as you clench down on him with another roll of his hips, sinking deeper into you with each thrust. “That’s it, pretty,” he grunts, “Taking me so well, fuck. So greedy for me.” And again, you feel that strange feeling before tensing up, your body convulsing and arching up as Hyunjin’s thrusts grow more frantic— harsher and harsher as he groans gutturally in your ear with one last thrust long and deep, and when something shoots deep inside, you shiver one last time before your body sinks into the mattress and Hyunjin’s weight cases you in.

You feel boneless, lethargic with your movement. You feel when Hyunjin gets off you, when he closes your legs after slipping your underwater back on. You hear it when he sighs, something light and satisfied, and you barely manage to answer when he asks you how you feel. You can’t do much more than sigh, but it seems like enough for him— like that was the exact answer he was looking for. You succumb to blissful sleep right before the door shuts behind Hyunjin.

“Hear me out,” Hyunjin sighs, a lazy smile on his features even still. You’re no joke even if you might not know it yet. “I think it could really work.”

“You want us to convince Y/n to what? Leave us alone or..?” Jeongin says, leaning against the table in the kitchen.

The party has long been over, there’s a mess everywhere but it’s empty except for the eight boys and you knocked out in Hyunjin’s bed. Jisung sits sprawled on the couch, head twisted ever so slightly to betray that he’s listening to the conversation, Jeongin leans against the table and Chan has his arms folded where he leans against the wall serving as the entrance between the kitchen and the living room.

Minho downs a bottle of water by the sink, and Changbin leans against the fridge, leveling Hyunjin with an intense look. Felix and Seungmin sit on the couch opposite Jisung where they have a full view of everything and everyone.

“She barely even knows what porn is, so I said I could convince her the site isn’t that bad— and is something she could grow to like, if not love.” Hyunjin explains, his eyebrows raising in wait for the retaliation that’s sure to come.

“Why should we?” Minho asks, with a swallow, “If she doesn’t like it, honestly what does it matter.” Heads nod in agreement.

“Listen, they’re starting to consider whatever the fuck she’s selling them at those little meetings, and I got an email about investigation if this keeps up. If we fail to change her mind, we can at least distract her enough for the heat to lessen a little.”

Chan nods, “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” He shrugs, looking over at everyone in the kitchen. “We change her mind, then we got one less problem to deal with.”

“And if we don't?” Changbin asks, tilting his head at both Hyunjin and Chan. “And if this is just a waste of time?”

“It isn’t,” Hyunjin assures, “Trust me.”

The rest of them don’t argue, but Hyunjin feels Seungmin’s gaze boring into him from the couch, feels his questions burning at the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out, so he leaves before they can succeed.

“We can talk about it more later, but I think it’ll work. It’s a good deed, and I know how much you guys love those.” Some scoffs and laughs fill the room, but Hyunjin is already halfway up the stairs, a plan forming in his mind and a pleasant smile growing on his face.

a note from iris: this chapter was late because of that long ass smut scene so i hope it was enjoyable and that this wasn’t 17k worth of a snoozefest 😭 i’m sorry it’s late!! so sorry but it’s still friday even if it’s 11 pm <3<3 not beta read not nothin so pls.. spare me.. and i hope you liked it !!!

not-so-mini taglist (there’s so many of y’all !!???): @chrisbahng @seonghwatoothless @bubblelixie @199719932000 @imsuchasimp00 @hyu-hl @oddinaryfelix @raspbinniecreme @fa3body @kittykatkrissa @andreaswrld @hattorihaechan @lachinitaaaaa @j-0ne25 @bangchanbabygirlx @ni-sh @green-orangeade @sincerely-skz @exclusivej3ss @elizalabs3 @lili-kims-blog @curiousgworge @midsoulz @sawadabegum @reighlee-greaves @lotus-dly @blcar @impossiblewritingrebel @yourhwngness @idek-at-this-point-lol @multihoe-net @hyun-bun @hwan-g @ughbehavior @rindomo @awesomelycoolworld @springdeity @todolyn @meowminhosblog @hyunelixies @emotionalwreckkk-blog @seungschacco @avyskai @cvfechan @jeyelleohe @vvsmydiamonds127 @chriscentric @simpforpunzngl @be-a-spacequeen @svintsandghosts @myjisung @hanjiesgf

*** if your tag didn’t work make sure your blog is visible! if i somehow missed you when tagging i offer a sincere apology <3

[lwt28brave]

LT2 masterpost

If it was up to me, we would get an autumn or winter EP. Since it’s not up to me at all, here, enjoy this post with everything we know so far of LT2, which is to say, not much at all. Everything here is hypothetical. I’ll be updating every time I see something relevant. A little disclaimer that while this is a masterpost (kinda), it could be read as discourse (duh, it’s also a theory), AND it’s also by me, and you shouldn’t expect me to be serious at this point.

Due to me restraining myself, there’s no reference to any of the times he’s mentioned his guitar skills and him improving but I hope you know I cried every single time.

I’m also linking my old pinned here. It was written before AFHF and around the free merch thing that didn’t lead to much, but I still think I made some good points.

Possible tracks:

Copy of a Copy of a Copy

Change

Faith in the future??

369??

Possible names:

369

Faith in the future

When is the album coming out?

Your guess is as good as mine

Friday 28th of January 2022. Almost two years after Walls. It’s a Friday. It’s a 28th. What else can I say?

Here you can find @want-to-be-loved timelines for every month.

Here you can find @berlinini’s timeline of what Louis has been up to this year (2021).

The rest is under the cut. And here you can find a PDF version where Tumblr can't tell me how many pictures I can add.

2020

He said back on May 2th 2020 he wasn’t writing anything new yet.

(x)(x)(x)

Interestingly enough, he’s said many times after that that the album’s not ready cause he has no new experiences to drawn from. I won’t call him out because he does it himself.

May 4th. He liked a tweet from DMA’s Johnny Took saying they had to go write together again. Louis has been credited as an influence for them and (kind of) participated in their previous record, so I’m assuming he meant for their music and not his, but you never know.

Nothing(literally nothing??? how did we survive) until 11th of July. We all know what happened that day. We all celebrated it. Nonetheless, that’s not what I’m talking about here.

(x) So, by the beginning of July 2020 he was working on concepts and ideas for the new album. That was fifteen months ago. I know perfection takes time but…

Brief summary of important things that happened from then until the next mention of new music:

Louis left Syco!!!! 10 days later he rescheduled the tour for the first time. He followed Matt Vines on Twitter, probably so we could publicly shame him into doing something. Also, the 10thanniversary. He followed more people I wish he hadn’t.

Then more nothing until September. Not even a single tweet. The first merch drop was on the 28th of August but he just RT’ed the tweet. He first mentioned Free my Meal on the 25th of September. Then on October 1st Walls hit #1 on a lot of countries and Louis was incredibly happy and excited about it ^^

And then, that same day, October 1st, 2020, he dropped this bomb:

(x)

He also said it was too soon to be sharing new lyrics with us (x)

And, obviously, this tweet which is actually what made me start this whole post. I would hope you know mate.

(x)

He also told us he was cooking "banger after banger" and that he was incorporating more social themes into his music (x)(x) (I believe any social issue is a political issue but that’s not the point rn).

COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY?!?!

These next paragraphs are brought to you by my mind not remembering things and me not having any links. I’m assuming COACOAC came from those writing sessions that supposedly happened in October. Or in LA but I have no idea if he actually was in LA at any point other than a Daily Mail article putting him there on December which would have been too late, but I do remember that someone said he was in the studio in LA last autumn???? A rumor. Maybe. IDK. Did I mention already all of this is very hypothetical?? Well, this is it. I can’t even remember if this was October or November or what. So, take this with a grain of salt.

I’m also… taking the liberty to assume, if you must, that Copy wasn’t meant to be a Walls reject because it sounds more mature and darker and it has a vastly different tone that Walls songs. I know he’s said that song probably isn’t getting into the album, but I want to have faith (in the future) that I’m getting a studio version. (But also, Louis, if you’re reading this, first of all GET OUT OF MY BLOG second of all, please don’t ever feel pressured again to add a song to the album because we have already heard it before. It’s your art and it should always be under your own terms).

So yeah, I believe that Copy is either one of those four songs (then imagine the other three??!!) or was written around the 1st of October date.

---End of the Intermission---

Then not much important (other than sharing more about Marcus Rashford fight against food poverty and the 2nd merch drop) until he announced the livestream on the 24th of November. (x)

It wasn’t until a few days before the livestream date we even thought again about new music (jk, I know we’re always thinking about new Louis’ music). So, December 9th/10th, 2020. Nine months ago. We got our first taste of new music!

He made sure we knew Copy of a Copy of a Copy isn't a cover! (x) (x)

(x)

Ok, so that’s it for 2020. (I feel like I’m missing something from September 17th because tweet was deleted but maybe he was still talking about cucumbers. We might never know. Unless I understand how Tumblr tags work). Expected, cause Walls was released in 2020. We needed to let it sit for a while.

2021

Another Summary: Louis third tweet of the year was telling the UK government off. So was the fifth. What a good beginning. On the 26th of January, he said he prefers pancakes over waffles. I hope he meant pancakes other than his own. More importantly, he tweeted the infamous “you lot read into things too much”. Don’t get me started, Tomlinson. Don’t. Then the 31st came around and Walls was one. He tweeted this. How wise. And Project Defenceless happened!!

15th of February!! Who cares about Valentine Day when the next day we got this? ♥

(x)

(x)

So…AN EP?? AN EP?? PLEASE RELEASE AN EP.

“I’m sure I will have something out this year but unlikely that will be the album”. Unlikely but not impossible. Also. A single would be good. This is the second time he mentions releasing something in 2021 and he sounds surer about it than the first time around.

He also said that he isn’t sure we will get a studio version of Copy. And that the best bridges from Walls to LT2 are Walls, OTB, KMM and Copy. Can’t wait!

Then we jump to March 6th when he announced he was going to create his own management company. “Sometimes action is needed first to encourage the motivation and belief”. As we can tell he was already manifesting some stuff which will lead us to the numerology stuff/Tesla… kidding. Or not. We might never know.

On the 22nd of March he answered some questions:

He told us music was still his main focus ♥ mwha. (x) I included this tweet to guilt-trip him into giving us music in case he’s reading this even after I told him to leave. ILY.

(x) I’d love to get a visual EP this autumn. Just saying. It sounds like a lovely concept.

(x)

…next (I will get into it, I promise. I’m just mad).

On the 25th he left for Mexico until April 10th. You could assume it was just for the documentary where we got ten seconds of footage or admit the obvious: LT2 its a Mexican baby!!

On the 26th (so, not so far apart from that first 369) we got the first Faith in the Future mention: (x)

Back then we were innocent people who had no idea what was coming upon us. We still have no idea because what the fuck does he mean with these. Please explain. I have one braincell and I don’t use it enough for this. I’m linking some theories.

On the 30th of March he confirmed he was already working on the documentary. So AFHF was already on the works. Will it take this long for us to get the Veeps numbers? We also got this tweet: "Got a decent chorus idea down" (x).

Same person that got the “something out this year” exclusive. If you know something share with the class. Also. Is this Change? I feel like this could be Change but I also assume he wrote Change after hanging out with his friends or being in Doncaster. But who knows.

(x) And the second mention to 369.

(x) 15th of April. The second "Faith in the future".

On the 19th of April he announced that he had something BIG for us later on the year which turned out to be the Away From Home Festival ♥♥ (x) I love him so much.

Then on the 28th he announced the 369 merch drop (which it’s probably the Walls drop? Except that the TOU and KMM ones were “drop 1 and drop 2” and this was drop 369 which, again, makes no sense) but we still don’t know what 369 means.

Into May’ 21 we go.

He rescheduled tour again. And dropped another bomb (x).

He announced he has signed with BMG as an independent artist by RTing this tweet on May 10th. The article also says that he’s already working on writing and recording LT2. The timing… we don’t know. What this deal involves… we don’t know either. Bear with me here because I have a lot to say about this.

I think the deal is only a distribution one, but that BMG are interested in Louis and what he (us) could bring to the table. They were either present at the festival or watching it, but officially they had no involvement at all with it (everything is credited either to Louis own company, 78 Productions, or Charlie Lightening’s company). That’s the case for both giveaways too; the vinyl one and the tickets for the festival.

I think it would be an unbelievably bad move not to test the waters with BMG now or soon-ish. At least a single, to see how it performs. Due to the circumstances, it’s obvious there’re certain limitations on place but I want to see how they push it, whether the radio play exist this time around and if the song is playlisted and promoted and all that… I would also love to know, since it says he signed with BMG UK, but it also states it’s a global deal, how things are going to go on the US and other countries.

Yes, yes. I know those are all questions and no answers. But I know the same as you, sadly. If any of you know more than you’re letting on… again, share with the class.

Where was I? Yes, on the 25th of May Louis had a great day writing (x). Since the first time he had mentioned he was officially writing to this date there’s almost eight months. And I believe he was writing before October’ 20.

He followed Robert Harvey that day and, on the 28th of May (why is it always the 28th???) he was spotted at the studio for the first time.

June was an interesting month for the fandom ♥. Lots of LHL content which I will love and cherish for the rest of times. On June 4th, June 9th, and June 10th he was spotted at the studio, but I believe he was there more days.

(x)

This was posted on June 6th and captioned Studio. Charlie also shared it with “Mega tunes being put down, can’t wait for this @louist91 #louistomlinson #LT2” as the caption. This gives me 2019 (Elton-Joint) vibes. I like it. Feels like we’re getting closer to something.

He added the Milano date on the 9th too which I’m mentioning because I’m going alone. Anyone wanna go with me please? I’m nice and I never eat anything before a concert so you can have my food. On other news. It didn’t come home.

During July he was at the studio at least three days too. Probably more. Feels like more with all the fan pictures we got. Or was that June? Anyway, July 1st and 9th we got some videos from Robert Harvey and wearesuperhi, which is who Louis has been working with the most, that we know of. I don’t know for sure they’re from that day. And on July 5th we got an article and lots of pictures of Louis looking really good outside the studio.

On the 12th of July the first fans started getting the free, 369 bucket hat and print. We still don’t know what the purpose was other than to thanks fans. Maybe that was it. I want answers and I still think it relates to a future project (see theories above), but it could also just be a bridge with the Walls breaking.

He didn’t tweet about anything interesting for a while, mostly because he lost his phone (he either throwed it in the air or smashed it who knows). Then on the 29th of July he announced the festival!

I’m glossing over it because there’s already been a lot of talk about it (rightfully) and while it was a wonderful thing, it doesn’t have much to do with LT2.

Let’s talk Change!

On August 3rd he tweeted this about the setlist.

(x)

And this (x) on the 28th! I can’t stand him.

We didn’t get it, obviously. Because who was going to get that. But we read too much into things. Alright.

On the 16thof August Dave Gibson shared this post tagged #LT2 with the eyes emojis 👀👀👀. I believe this has to do both with Change but also with whatever else came out of that Mexico trip.

(x) Last relevant tweet related to LT2 is this one.

So, on the 30th of August we got Change and we cried, and we know that Change is going in the new album. He said it. With those exact words. He also said he was “getting a feeling for it”. This has to meant he already has a general idea of the vibe of the new album and what’s going in it!!!!!! (Right? RIGHT?).

Anyway, let’s go back a few weeks because some other things happened on August. He was at the studio a few more times. Or it was suggested that he was there. On the 17th and the 18th. (Why was it so time-pressing to be at the studio instead of rehearsing for the festival? There was no studio at all on the documentary. Which makes sense, but again, then why?).

On the day of the festival we got another mention of Faith in The Future that made me feel part of a cult ngl. The words were flashing on the screen for less than a second. Okay.

And then he tweeted those words again after watching the livestream/documentary on the 4th of September (x). This is what makes me suspect it's either the name of the album or of the single.

On the same day, we got some interesting quotes about LT2 on the documentary.

“Soon I’ll have to think about me second album, which in my head I’ll get the tour out of the way and then I’ll address that. So, I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest”.

“When every day is the same is hard to feel creative and it’s hard to have any kind of proper inspiration”.

“As season started to come back, I started writing again and it was great and some of these songs turned out alright”.

And I think this is it. I might be overlooking some important details but that’s what we know and what we don’t know.

So. Conclusions. That’s what you missed on Glee. I do believe the album is, if not mostly done, partially there. And yes, this post is pointless and never-ending but it’s all in here if you need to tell Louis “Hey, you said this, mate”.

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 52

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: David Willows belongs to @that-scouse-wizard, the lovely Ellie Hopper (in unnamed mention) belongs to the equally as lovely @thatravenpuffwitch - and it’s her birthday as well! Happy birthday Ellie 💛💛💛

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Language, drinking, mentions of drug abuse

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell @thatravenpuffwitch @anthamariemayfair @whatwouldvalerydo

We are living on the inside and

We are dying on the outside

So what, this is how we wanna play

~ Takida - Flowerchild (The Beauty of Stray) ~

Orion reached Ethan just before the last group of people obscuring the table with Merula and David could disperse and determinedly stepped in front of him.

“Ethan,” he said breezily, “just the man I was looking for. How are you, my dear friend?”

Ethan cocked an eyebrow as Orion grabbed him by his shoulders, turned him around and marched him back into the direction of the bar. “You were?”

“Indeed,” Orion nodded enthusiastically. “The bonds of our friendship have been subject to an assortment of strains and it’s troubling my spirit. The links of the chain connecting us have been weakened between the fire of our ambitions and the anvil of our mistakes. We need to turn our trials and temptations into means to strengthen our bonds and stand united in the face of what’s to come, and if what’s to come doesn’t come - because how can we tell if what’s supposed to come will actually come - we will sleep soundly knowing we would have been prepared if it had come indeed.”

Behind Ethan, Lizzie was covering her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh; Ethan himself, on the other hand, was looking thoroughly confused.

“Mate, are you alright? Have you taken anything other than weed?”

“The only thing I’m inebriated with is the desire to make amends for the mistakes we’ve made, because I wish we wouldn’t have done them in the first place. But what is done is done, and cannot be undone. So instead of dwelling on the things done we should seek to undo the damage done and concentrate on the things to do to make sure the done things are never going to be done again. Wouldn't you agree?”

Just like he had anticipated, Ethan looked convinced that Orion had lost his plot for good. He slowly blinked and turned to Lizzie.

“One of us is stoned as fuck, and I’m bloody sure it’s not me. What in the name of Jimi fucking Hendrix is he trying to tell me?”

Lizzie put on a serious face, but Orion saw that she was fighting to keep her face straight. “He’s trying to tell you that he’s sorry for what has happened. We both are.”

“Right about time you kids see sense,” Ethan muttered. “Good to see you didn’t drink and drug all your brains out,” he laughed, but it was not unkind. “Makes for a fucked up retirement, let me tell you.”

He patted both of them on the shoulder and turned to go. This time, it was Lizzie who quickly stepped into his way.

“We had an idea on how to make up for it,” she said hastily and looked to Orion with an urgent look. “Didn’t we?”

Orion nodded slowly while his brain was working feverishly. He laid his hands on Ethan’s shoulders again and half led, half pushed him towards the exit of the tent, making his words up as he went.

“We did,” he said breezily, “but it will not be an easy feat. We will need to be as patient as the elephant to rebuild what was broken, as tenacious as the magpie to hold on to the glimmer of our common passion, as loyal to each other as a cat towards the ones it chooses as their family, and act to achieve our goals with the fire of a tortoise.”

They had almost reached the exit of the tent, but Ethan wasn’t paying attention to where they were going; he was busy looking at Orion as if he’d lost his mind.

“A tortoise?” he echoed, “Last time I looked, tortoises had about as much fire as Cliff Richard after the gods of rock ‘n’ roll weren’t good enough for him anymore.”

“My brother had a tortoise once,” Lizzie offered, “vicious little thing, almost bit his finger off.”

“What are you two playing at?” Ethan asked suspiciously. “I hope you're serious about making up for the shit you’ve fabricated or I’ll mount your arses over my fireplace. Will take a good old while to get into The Rolling Stone’s good books again.”

“We know that,” Lizzie said and she and Orion exchanged glances, “but listen, you’re going to love this.”

They had left the tent by now and Lizzie slowly walked Ethan away from it, dishing up stories about off the rails interviews, home tours and behind the scenes features of their recording process they would do.

Whenever she was running out of ideas, Orion, who was walking on Ethan’s other side, took over. He couldn’t decide whether to laugh or feel bad about how intently Ethan was listening to their nonsense.

As they had reached the old railway path running its way through Glastonbury and marking the end of The Common area, the bar tent with Merula and David had long vanished behind masses of people and colourful lights. Ethan stopped in front of an open bar stall and put one of his large hands on one of their shoulders each.

“Good to see you taking things seriously for a change.” His smile was curt but genuine. “In the end, we all want what’s best for the band, right? Glad we could bury the hatchet.” He gave their shoulders a fatherly squeeze and then clapped his hands together. “Enough of the sentimental bullshit. Last time I was this parched was on my third rehab. Let’s drink on peace. My treat.”

As soon as Ethan turned his back on them, a grin spread on Orion’s face. With a quick motion he grabbed Lizzie’s hand and turned his back on Ethan, pulling her along after him. Ethan was shouting behind them, but it was already too late; they were dashing out of The Common and diving into the haze and flickering lights of Shangri-La, the packed and ever changing area lying across the rusty railway path.

Spurring each other on with their laughter, they kept on running long after Ethan had lost any chance of finding them again. Everything was blurring into a stream of colour, scent and sound, and Orion could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage and Lizzie’s hand in his.

When they reached a crossroads of muddy trails, they stopped to catch their breaths. They looked at each other - tousled hair, flushed faces and heaving chests - and simultaneously burst into laughter.

“I’ve forgotten how fast you are,” Lizzie said between laughing and gasping for breath. She let go of his hand to press it against her sides. Suddenly not knowing what to do with his hands anymore, Orion brushed away the hair that had fallen into his eyes.

“The taller you are, the faster your steps will carry you towards your destination.” His heart was still beating as wildly as it had when they were running, and he took a deep breath to calm it down. “But no matter how quickly we reach our destination, in the end, it’s the journey that counts.”

Lizzie laughed, an easy, carefree laugh which Orion hadn’t heard in a long time. “Then let’s hope Ethan’s journey will take him a while. He’ll rip us to shreds if he gets hold of us.”

“Ethan is a problem we need to face in the future,” Orion said and smiled. “For now, I suggest we enjoy the present.”

They picked the way to their right, leading away from the stages and deeper into the maze of lit up tents and stalls. They had put a greater distance behind them than Orion had thought; judging by the giant drop slide he could make out in the distance, they had made their way through Unfair Ground and Avalon and had reached the Greenpeace Field.

Bonfires and fairy lights were competing with the colourful lights of the stages, broken up by the occasional environmentally themed sculpture. Orion would have loved to stop and take a closer look, but they kept on walking past them. The relaxed, giddy atmosphere from before was gone, and aside from an occasional remark, they remained silent.

Lizzie was looking straight ahead and her shoulders were tensed. Orion wanted to reach out and tell her to relax, but he didn't know whether he should. When had taken her hand before, it had been in the spur of the moment, but now everything was like it had been for the last few weeks.

Not too long ago, touching Lizzie had come as natural to him as breathing and before he knew it, Orion had lost his head and heart to as little as a touch of her hand. He had lost so much of himself, in fact, that now he didn’t even dare offer her a comforting gesture out of fear of what it might do to him.

The sound of music coming from one of the bar tents they were passing caught Orion’s attention and he stopped. It was small compared to most of the other venues and he could see a stage set up in the back of it.

There was a young woman standing behind the mic, with light blonde curls tumbling over her shoulders in loose pigtails. She was wearing a yellow shirt underneath a pair of dungarees and had an acoustic guitar strapped around her shoulders, the sound hole adorned with yellow petals that made it look like a sunflower. The song she was playing was breezy and her voice crystal clear as it carried over the enchanted crowd. Orion could see Lizzie watching her, her lips curved into an absentminded smile.

“Do you want to go inside?” Orion nodded to a sign next to the entrance. “It’s an open stage. Could be fun.”

They found an empty bar table to the side of the tent. There were others with a slightly better view of the stage, but neither of them was in the mood to join other people; it was nice to just disappear in the crowd for a change.

Orion went to get them something to drink; Lizzie looked at him briefly when he set one of the two pints down in front of her.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Craft beer,” Orion answered, taking a sip of his own. “Organic, naturally.”

“I can see that it’s craft beer,” Lizzie said, her eyes flicking between Orion’s glass and hers. “At least yours is. Mine is red. Why is my beer red?”

“It’s cherry beer,” Orion chuckled. “I figured you’d want to try it.”

Lizzie looked at him sceptically. “Since when do they put cherries in beer?” she muttered and took a tiny sip. Orion had to laugh when she pulled a face. “Ugh,” she said and stuck her tongue out, “that’s awful!”

“I never thought I’d live to see you reject anything to do with cherries. Do you want to swap?” He reached for her glass but Lizzie moved it away.

“No, it’s fine.” She took a second sip, and let it sit in her mouth before she swallowed it. “It gets better after the first shock.”

She turned her attention back to the stage and they listened for a while, watching the musicians come and go. Orion was glad they had something to put their focus on and fill the silence. It felt good to be away from the observant eyes and knowing looks of their friends, but the atmosphere between him and Lizzie was tense. Neither of them knew what to say without moving too far out of the boundaries of a professional friendship, so they stayed right where they were and remained silent.

A movement in the corner of Orion’s eye caught his attention. Lizzie was still focused on the stage, but the fingers of her right hand were playing with a small, bright red piece of plastic. A curious look formed on Orion’s face as he watched Lizzie letting his old plectrum wander from the space between her thumb and index finger to her little finger and back again. He remembered teaching her this trick to calm her nerves, in exchange for showing him how to properly spin a drumstick.

“I’m surprised you still have that.” Orion realised he had been thinking out loud when Lizzie tensed and closed her hand around the plectrum, hiding it from view.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she said with a small frown, quickly looking away when their eyes met. “It’s from our first big tour, and it was a gift. That’s not something you throw away.”

“We’ve thrown a lot of things away which would have been worth saving.”

Lizzie’s eyes went wide at his words but both of them were spared her answer when the blonde singer spoke into her microphone.

“It seems we have some real masters of their crafts with us tonight. How about a taste of your skill?”

The people looked around themselves questioningly; when they discovered Lizzie and Orion, they started cheering and clapping. Orion and Lizzie looked at each other and Lizzie shrugged; not like they were having much of a choice.

The woman with the flower guitar hopped off the stage with a smile to make room for them. Lizzie automatically walked towards the drum kit, but Orion was faster; before she had any chance to claim the instrument, he had already sat down behind it, spinning one of the drumsticks between his fingers, just like Lizzie had taught him to.

Lizzie raised her eyebrows. “What are you doing?”

“Routines are stifling. It’s unexpected change that keeps our minds alert and our skills sharp,” Orion smirked. He nodded in the direction of the guitar sitting next to an amplifier to Lizzie’s left. “Let’s see if you remember how to use that plectrum of yours for more than party tricks.”

Lizzie’s face remained unmoved, save for a slight twitch of her lips. “Challenge accepted.”

Under the cheers of the audience, Lizzie picked up the guitar and hung it around her neck. She pushed down on the metal strings a few times without actually playing to get a feel for the instrument, and waited for Orion to begin.

The first few moments of playing together were strange. It took them a little to get accustomed to the reversed roles, but soon their natural rhythm took over, like it had always done ever since the very first time they had spoken to each other. It had grown and changed over the years, but one way or another, their spirits had always danced to the same beat.

For a little while it was just them on stage, Lizzie on the guitar and Orion on the drums. They didn’t play anything elaborate, just a basic rhythm and blues sequence Lizzie improvised on the spot, the 101 of any ordinary jam session. But to Orion the music was a gust of fresh air, blowing away the dust which had covered his mind, and ever so slowly, the greys were fading and the colours beneath were starting to show again.

He was setting the rhythm, giving Lizzie the foundation she needed to let her guitar sing a melody flowing from her heart directly into her fingers. There was no room for thoughts or contemplating; improvising was nothing but instinct and emotion, raw and pure and beautiful.

Before long, other musicians were joining them, but it made no difference to Orion. He only had eyes for Lizzie as she was playing the instrument he loved more than anything else. She was concentrated and bit her lower lip ever so slightly, fully immersing herself in the music. Orion realised that this was what had always connected him and Lizzie; she didn’t simply share his passion - her soul was breathing music, just like his own did. That’s why she understood his songs like nobody else did: she understood him.

Orion had lost track of time, but when they eventually stopped playing and left the stage his shoulders were stiff and his arms were burning. He rolled his head from side to side and grimaced at the sharp crack in his neck as they were leaving the tent .

“A worthwhile performance takes a toll on body, mind and soul, but seriously, how do you do this every night?” Orion said and shook his arms out. “I doubt I could lift a feather at this point.”

“Stop complaining,” Lizzie replied while inspecting her left hand. “I can’t even feel my fingertips anymore. Who the fuck came up with the idea of playing with steel strings in the first place?”

Orion’s own hands were so used to the bite of the strings that he didn’t even remember what it had felt like to play with inexperienced hands. The blonde singer from before had taken the stage again and was playing a dreamy melody on her guitar. Her clear voice carried out of the tent to where they were standing.

“Listen to her,” Orion said and smiled appreciatively. “The discomfort of a sharper string makes for a sound that is all the sweeter. When what you draw from your pain is beauty, the hurt doesn’t matter anymore.”

“This hurt certainly matters to me,” Lizzie muttered, but her lips were curved into a smile.

“That’s a shame, because you did play beautifully. You haven’t lost your touch.”

“Neither have you. But for the record, I’m clearly worse off.”

“No two experiences are ever the same, but even so, I highly doubt you’re in more pain than me,” Orion replied, enjoying their banter more than he should.

They were standing off to the side to the people trudging through the muddy paths, half in between two stalls. The tension in Orion’s shoulders had begun to seep down his back and he leaned against one of the wooden sidewalls.

“Oh please,” Lizzie snorted and raised her hand for him to see, “just look at this mess. I won’t be able to use this hand ever again.” She sighed dramatically but couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

Without thinking what he was doing, Orion took her hand in his and turned it around so that her palm was facing upwards. The only sources of light were the bonfires scattered over the Greenpeace Field and the fairy lights decorating the stalls. They were creating a play of flickering lights and deep shadows, making the flecks of glitter on Lizzie’s face shimmer in the half-light.

Orion raised her hand slightly to better inspect the damage the guitar strings had done. They had left deep indentations in her fingertips which were already turning red. Lizzie winced when Orion gently ran his finger over her irritated skin.

“It does look painful,” he said softly. “I forgot how much it can hurt. But the pain will subside, trust me.”

On the spur of the moment, he brought her hand to his lips and pressed a feather-light kiss against her fingertips, a faint metallic taste still lingering on them. Realising what he was doing, Orion and Lizzie both froze. He could feel her pulse racing underneath his fingertips as their eyes met.

The moment could have lasted for eternity or the blink of an eye, but it didn’t matter as both of them moved at the same time, drawn to each other by an invisible force that was too strong to resist anymore. Within a heartbeat, Lizzie closed the distance between them and Orion pulled her into his arms as he kissed her.

The second their lips connected sent a bolt of energy through Orion. The world could have ended around them, and Orion wouldn’t have cared; all that mattered was that the ache inside his heart - his constant companion since he had left her standing in that backstreet in Manchester - had stopped and for the first time in weeks, Orion felt truly alive.

He pulled her closer when Lizzie deepened the kiss, carried away by the same desperate feeling of longing and hunger that was raging inside his own chest. She pressed her body against him, trapping him between herself and the stall in his back. Her hand tangled in his hair and the way she gently pulled at it felt so deeply familiar as if the last time they had kissed hadn’t been weeks ago.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins and the feeling of Lizzie’s lips against his were addictive; kissing her was like taking a sip of a fine, rare wine after being sober for months on end. All the feelings and memories Orion had tried to bury were fighting their way to the surface and Orion embraced them, wanted more of them.

Their kiss grew more passionate by the second. Orion took a step back, deeper into the shadows, and Lizzie followed him without a moment’s hesitation. His hands found their place on her waist, where they fit just as perfectly into her curves as he remembered. But the feeling of his fingers brushing over her skin seemed to bring Lizzie back to her senses. She tensed under his touch and her sudden hesitation broke the spell between them. Orion felt a flicker of relief when she pushed him away, and yet the ache inside his heart was so strong it took his breath away.

“I’m sorry,” Lizzie whispered and took a step back so that she was out of his reach. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry,” she said again, her hand covering her mouth.

Orion exhaled slowly and leaned the back of his head against the sidewall of the stall. He had to close his eyes for a moment as he tried to regain control over his racing heart.

“Don’t apologise,” he said eventually, his words leaving his lips painfully slow, “we were both at fault.”

“I need to go,” Lizzie said, more to herself than to him.

“Do you want me to take you back to the camp?” Orion asked automatically, but Lizzie shook her head.

“No!” she said vehemently. “No, sorry. Don’t get me wrong, but this would be a terrible idea. I need to be alone now.”

Within the blink of an eye she had turned, dipped into the ever flowing stream of people and vanished from sight. Orion stayed behind with no one for company but his frantically beating heart and crushing regrets.

[thegoodomensdumpster]

ALL THE OMENS

I keep seeing people confused / discovering one or several iterations of Good Omens, so here is a masterpost of everything Good Omens that officially exists (and that I could gather, so there might be mistakes):

WILLIAM THE ANTICHRIST (1987)

The original draft of what would later become Good Omens, written by Neil Gaiman before he teamed up with Terry Pratchett. It notably features a demon called Crawleigh who would then be split into Crowley and Aziraphale.  The draft exists in a book form included in the Ineffable Edition of the illustrated Good Omens.

LINK TO A WTA RECAP (by @fuckyeahgoodomens)

BOOK (1990)

The core material of Good Omens, written by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. Exists also as an audiobook read by Stephen Briggs (for the English speaking crowd of course). There is also some audio of David Tennant reading part of the book during the recording of Playing in the Dark: Neil Gaiman and the BBC Symphony Orchestra in November 2019. LINK TO DAVID TENNANT’S READING (by @merinathropp) @good-omens-covers is a blog where you can have a look at book covers from accross the world

MOVIE SCRIPT (1992)

The script for an aborted movie project. Attempts to write a movie script were made by both Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, but this is the one Gaiman ended up tackling on his own after Pratchett wisely decided to step away. The conflicted requests from the producers lead the way to a story that was related to Good Omens only in name. The movie script is only available in few numbers on specialized websites for a very high price.

THEATRE PLAY (2013)

An adaptation by Amy Hoff made with the permission of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, that was played by the Cult Classic Theatre for the Glasgow International Comedy Festival. As far as I know, no footage or script is available anywhere. I know nothing about this play besides the fact that Crowley looks wild. Amy Hoff’s website mentions that GO is currently unavailable for stage production or adaptation. LINK TO THE (BROKEN) PAGE OF THE THEATRE PLAY LINK TO A PHOTO GALLERY OF THE PLAY

RADIO DRAMA (2014)

An audio adaptation originally broadcasted on BBC4 in 6 episodes, adapted by Dirk Maggs and directed by Dirk Maggs and Heather Larmour. It is however available in an 8 episodes longer format (including bloopers) on CDs and such. The cast includes, notably, Peter Serafinowicz as Crowley, Mark Heap as Aziraphale, Josie Lawrence as Agnes Nutter, and a cameo from Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.

LINK TO THE BBC4 PAGE FOR THE GOOD OMENS RADIO DRAMA LINK TO AN IMAGES GALLERY

TV SERIES (2019)

A six episodes long TV series, produced by the BBC and Amazon, that premiered on Amazon Prime in June 2019. Directed by Douglas Mackinnon. The script was written entirely by Neil Gaiman as the whole project was the achievement of years of struggle trying to get a video adaptation of GO, and as promised by Neil Gaimand to the late Terry Pratchett that this would get done. 

The cast still includes Josie Lawrence as Agnes Nutter, David Tennant as Crowley, Michael Sheen as Aziraphale, and many other talented actors and actresses that would be too long to list here but are worth watching. 

As derivative products coming out of the making of the TV series, the script book of the entire show (including cut scenes that were never shot) is available, as well as some storyboards that depict, without a doubt, the least expected looks for Crowley and Aziraphale. The TV series is available for streaming on Amazon Prime, in DVD and in BluRay. The soundtrack composed by David Arnold can be found in CDs, vinyls and mp3 sets.  Additionally, there is a TV Companion book for behind the scenes and interviews that can be purchased, and very few official goodies such as enamel pins, and, of course, the very necessary Good Omens Nail Polish. A Q and A with Neil Gaiman and David Tennant is also available on Amazon Prime, broadcasted live and recorded in May 2020. In 2017, Neil Gaiman made a reading of cutscenes in Austin, Texas, for the Long Center event.

LINK TO THE DVDs / BLURAYs MASTERPOST (by @fuckyeahgoodomens) LINK TO THE SCRIPT BOOK MASTERPOST (by @fuckyeahgoodomens ) LINK TO SOME STORYBOARDS VISUALS: PART 1 and PART 2 LINK TO NEIL GAIMAN’S READING OF CUTSCENES

THE LOCKDOWN VIDEO (2020)

As a direct result of the TV series (and a direct result of a worldwide pandemic and a several months long lockdown...), Neil Gaiman wrote a little script for a short video that is, actually, mainly audio, in which David Tennant and Michael Sheen reprised their roles as Crowley and Aziraphale.

LINK TO THE LOCKDOWN VIDEO ON YOUTUBE LINK TO THE LOCKDOWN VIDEO TRANSCRIPT

MUSICAL (still in developpement as far as I know on this date in June 2020)

An Australia based project that has been years in the making, developped by Vicki Larnach and Jim Hare. So far, what has been officially released on the internet are a few videos of a reading by the actors, a sizzle reel with footage and audio of several moments from the show, as well as promotional pictures. The musical has been played on stage in front of an audience a few times these past two years in a version that is probably rather close to what the end product will be, and hopefully, once the final version exists, it will be made available for the widest audience possible.

LINK TO THE MUSICAL WEBSITE LINK TO THE MUSICAL SIZZLE REEL LINK TO THE MUSICAL INSTAGRAM LINK TO A REVIEW OF THE MUSICAL (by @seraphofshadows) LINK TO A GALLERY OF PICS FROM THE SIZZLE (by @crunchy-goblin)

OTHERS THINGS THAT ARE (AND THINGS THAT AREN’T)

668—The Neighbour of the Beast AKA the sequel that doesn’t exist. Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett talked about writing a sequel to Good Omens, came up with a few things (the most infamous being Aziraphale watching a porno in a hotel room, but only catching glimpses of it and trying to figure out the plot by writting it down in a notebook), but it was never written. LINK TO AN INTERVIEW GIVEN TO THE LOCUS IN 1991 MENTIONING THIS SEQUEL LINK TO A POST ON GAIMAN’S BLOG MENTIONING THE PORNOGRAPHY BIT LINK TO A RECAP OF THE SEQUEL + COTTAGE THING The movie directed by Terry Gilliam Before GO became a TV series, it got stuck for years as a movie project meant to be directed by Terry Gilliam. For various reasons it never happened, and the rumors about Robin Williams being cast as Aziraphale and Johnny Depp as Crowley seem to have started from there. The cottage “canon” The widespread concept of Crowley and Aziraphale sharing a cottage originated from a blog post made by Neil Gaiman, reporting a conversation between him and Terry Pratchett regarding the whereabouts of their characters. Gaiman has since offered the precision that this cottage sharing thing would happen way after the events of the sequel that was never written, so years after Armageddon, and that the location would be Devil’s Dyke in the South Downs. LINK TO THE ORIGINAL POST ON GAIMAN’S BLOG LINK TO A COMPREHENSIVE EXPLANATION (by @irisbleufic) LINK TO A TUMBLR ASK FOR GAIMAN ABOUT THE SOUTH DOWNS LINK TO A SCREENSHOT OF A TWEET BY GAIMAN The New Year Resolutions List (made for Harper Collins, now taken down from their website) A list of resolutions written by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett on request of the publisher in 2005, one list for Crowley, one list for Aziraphale. LINK TO THE LIST ( by @ladylier )

LINK TO AN INTERVIEW WHERE NEIL GAIMAN TALKS ABOUT A FEW OF THE THINGS MENTIONNED IN THIS POST And as an ultimate bonus, as I was gathering all the informations for this masterpost, I found back Michael Sheen’s Spotify Good Omens Playlist. EDIT (02/08/2020): Someone mentionned (in a post I can’t find anymore ?) that on the list of existing merch that was absolutely unexpected, there was a whole collection of Good Omens perfume oils. It was made around 2007 with the approval of Pratchett and Gaiman and was apparently updated when the series came out in 2019. The profits of the oils go to different charities.

I was also reminded of the Chattering Order of Saint Beryl, a group of singers promoting the TV series before its release in 2019.  Their Youtube Channel has a playlist that was last updated in June 2020. There is one video clip of the song Brand New Baby Smell that features a cameo by Neil Gaiman. And I found back @fuckyeahgoodomens‘s masterpost about the merch, even though I mentionned most of these in this masterpost, I’ll include the link for convenience sake.

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part IV. (Harry Styles)

hello loves!! thank you so much for the feedbacks on the previous part, i love to see your thoughts at reactions so please keep them coming for the upcoming parts as well! i was informed that the posts weren’t showing up under the hashtags bc i had an extrernal link to the spotify playlist, so that won’t be available in the next parts, but you’ll always be able to find it in the masterpost if you’d like to give it a listen! those were the songs i listened to while writing the story! now, i dont want to keep you up any longer, here is part 4, one of my personal favs, and im excitedly waiting for your feedbacks on the post! have a wonderful reading!

word count: 4.5k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Valerie is curiously watching her dad work on the portable bed they’ve brought over for the night, her little hands clutching onto Rosa’s shirt as she is telling you all about the list she has made for you. It’s not a long one, but you try to focus on every word she says, making sure you won’t mess anything up.

“I put an X behind the important ones,” she explains pointing at the paper and you nod, eyes roaming down on the few X’s on the list. “The other ones are just suggestions, things I thought you should know.

“Got it,” you nod again, biting into your bottom lip. Bath time, feeding, sleep time, everything is covered in the list and you’re happy she even mentioned the smallest details. Some things might be natural for her as she’s been doing it for months, but it’s your first time completely alone with a baby. You surely don’t want to mess this up, especially because you want her to trust you and let you look after Valerie more often. They deserve a break now and then.

Steven finishes the bed and backs out a few stuffed animals along with two blankets into it, making it look cozy and familiar for Val.

“But most importantly,” Rosa starts and you look her in the eyes. “Call us anytime if you need help or want us to take her home, and I mean it.”

“Not gonna happen,” you shake your head, earning a sigh from your sister.

“Y/N, I’m serious. We are thankful for the help, but it’s not your duty, alright? Just call us anytime, really.”

Nodding your head you flash a smile at her, knowing well nothing on Earth is gonna make you call them tonight. Okay, maybe there are some cases when you would call, but those are quite unlikely to happen.

She hands Valerie over who curiously eyes you before grabbing a handful of your shirt and making herself busy with the fabric.

“It’s gonna be fine. Have a great night, you deserve it,” you smile at them. Steven straightens up and curls an arm around Rosa’s waist as they watch Val in awe, clearly a little worried they are gonna spend an entire night without her, but you can tell they also can’t wait for some alone time.

“Alright, we should get going,” Rosa sighs and stepping closer she kisses Valerie’s head and then your cheek as well. “Have fun with your aunty! We’ll be back for you in the morning, Sweetie.”

She runs her hand over her little head and Valerie smiles at her happily, completely oblivious to what’s really happening. The joys of being just a baby!

Steven says goodbye to her as well and you all head to the door. 

“So, we’ll be here around eight, she is usually up by six. Do you want us to pick her up sooner?” Rosa asks standing at the front door.

“Sooner? I was about to tell you to sleep a little longer, you don’t have to come so early.”

“But we don’t want to take away your whole day, you need to rest too,” Steven explains, worry all over his face.

“Stop worrying about me, I’ll be fine. Just enjoy your night off! Come on, I’m throwing you guys out, time for the sleepover to start,” you tell them, shushing them out the door. 

It takes some time to finally get them to leave, but they eventually do. Then it’s just the two of you, alone for the first time.

“Ready for your first sleepover, Val?” you ask her, standing in the hallway of your apartment. She just stares back at you, saliva drooling from her mouth but even that looks cute on her. “Alright, let’s do this.”

You braced yourself for the worst. Thought about all the possibilities how the evening would go, but you hoped they wouldn't become reality. Unfortunately, baby Valerie had different plans for the two of you.

The first hour goes by fine. You feed her, have a little play time, reading her favorite book to her, but slowly, you notice her losing interest in anything and everything. Soon enough, you see her face distort into a grimace and a few moments later she starts crying and it’s straight downhill from there. 

Nothing can get her to stop. No food, no toy, absolutely nothing. You clown around, trying everything that pops into your mind that would calm her down, but it doesn’t seem like she is about to stop anytime soon. 

You start to panic. Rosa told you how fussy she is because of her teeth coming, but you didn’t think it would be this bad. When she’s been crying for an entire hour straight, for a split second, you think about calling Rosa. 

“No, not gonna do that,” you say, while Val is still screaming in your arms. “Valerie, what do you want? Tell me and I’ll give it to you, I promise! Just please stop crying!” you whine desperately, but, no surprise, no answer comes from the screaming babe in your arms, just more tears, puffy eyes and red cheeks from all the crying she’s been doing.

Trying to rock her into calmness you are moving around in the apartment when you hear your phone ringing. You instantly think it’s gonna be Rosa, wanting to check in on you, but how are you gonna answer the call when Valeries is screaming from the top of her lungs? She’ll come to pick her up straight away, no doubt about that.

Rushing into the kitchen you are relieved to see that it’s just Harry calling you.

“It’s not the best of times, Styles,” you sigh as you answer the call and put him on the speaker, leaving the phone on the countertop, so you have both your hands free for Valerie.

“Hey, I was just-- what the fuck is happening?” he asks hearing the deadly cries of Val through the line. “Is that Valerie?”

“It is! I’m looking after her so Rosa and Steven can celebrate their anniversary, but she just wouldn’t stop crying! I don’t know what to do!” 

You’re absolutely desperate. It’s so bad you can feel your throat closing up, nearing the edge of your patience, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, but you tell yourself only one of you can cry at a time and Val has taken that spot quite some time ago, not even giving you a moment to let loose.

“Text me your address, I’m leaving now,” he orders and you snap your head towards the phone.

“What? No, Harry--”

“Just text me the damn address, Y/N!” he barks and the line cuts off right away. 

Your desperation pairs with shock now, not knowing what to think about this short, but quite eventful conversation you just had with him. It takes you a few moments to collect your thoughts, but you end up sending him your address. 

Nothing changes in the twenty minutes while you are waiting to hear anything from Harry following your text to him. Valerie keeps crying with three seconds of pauses when she takes a few deep breaths only to start screaming once again. Aside from the headache she is causing you, it’s becoming pretty impressive how long she’s been doing it. You probably would have fainted by now, but it seems like Valerie is running on an endless battery.

“You are really making it hard for me to be a cool aunt, Val,” you mumble, the baby still in your arms as the tears keep rolling down her face. Your light grey shirt is now soaking wet, both from her tears and your sweat from the anxiety she is giving you, mixed with some other things you choose to ignore where they came from.

The doorbell makes you jump, but Valerie doesn’t even bat an eye at the sound, she just keeps going.

“You need to teach me how to have this much energy,” you mumble under your breath as you walk over to the door. 

Opening it you find yourself staring up at Harry who is wearing a brown coat, dark jeans and a black hoodie. If you had to guess what he was doing on this weekend evening you would have said he was out with friends somewhere, picking up girls, but he surely doesn’t look like he was anywhere else than his home, the clothes are hanging messily on his frame, like he just threw them on in a rush.

His green eyes look straight at you at first before moving over to the crying child in your arms. You fully expect him to say something along the lines of “this is the kind of effect you have on others” comment, but it seems like he notices the fear and despair in your eyes and he keeps his mouth shut.

“I honestly have no idea what to do,” you choke out and the tears start flowing from your eyes as well, making Harry have to deal with now two crying human beings.

“Oh my, please don’t cry, I can’t take two crying women at once,” Harry begs as he steps inside and shuts the door behind him. Turning to face you he reaches for Valerie, you hand her over to him, hoping she would magically stop the crying, but she clearly couldn’t care less.

“Why, can you take one?” you ask with a bitter chuckle as you wipe your cheeks.

“Not really,” he admits, making you smile. “So what have you tried?” he asks as he starts swaying and rocking Valerie in hopes of getting her to stop, but not even Harry’s charm stands a chance with her right now. Deep down you’re happy you weren’t the reason she got so fussy and upset, would have been pretty awkward if she stopped the moment Harry took her into his arms. 

“Literally everything,” you huff, shoulders falling forward. “I went over the list Rosa gave me, tried everything, but she wouldn’t stop. She’s teething, but this is… It seems like there might be something else maybe?” you tell him worried that something serious might be behind her behavior. You really don’t want to call and bother Rosa, but you are nearing the point where you’ll give up and ask for help.

“Maybe she needs to be changed?” Harry suggests holding her up, giving her butt a sniff, but you roll your eyes at him.

“You don’t think that was one of the first things I did? She is as clean as she could be. Maybe I should just call Rosa,” you sigh in defeat reaching for your phone but Harry snaps at you.

“No! Don’t, we can figure this out. Steven has been so excited to have a night off, we can’t ruin this for them. Come on, we have to have the slightest parenting skills and solve this without them.”

Nodding you agree with him, but you’ve completely run out of ideas.

“So what do you suggest?”

You can see the gears turning in Harry’s head as he is trying to come up with a plan, but it’s not like either of you have any experience with babies. The idea of calling Rosa is starting to burn in the back of your head, fear of failing this challenge taking over your thoughts.

Then Harry looks at you with a look that screams that he has an idea. You’re just about to ask what came into his mind when all of a sudden he starts to sing.

“Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water, and I think of all the things what you’re doing and in my head I paint a picture…”

You instantly recognize Amy Whinehouse’s iconic song, the one that’s also behind Valerie’s name, you know that for sure. Rosa was obsessed with the song growing up, she would sing it on the way to school, in the shower or while making dinner. You weren’t surprised she chose this name for her first daughter.

What surprises you that Harry sings like a literal angel. He hits the notes perfectly, nailing the lines like not many can and you listen to him with parted lips, eyebrows raised. This was the last thing you expected from him, but then again, it’s not the first time Harry has surprised you through the years of knowing him.

Valerie stops for a moment, her hiccups shaking through her body as her tear-filled eyes look up to Harry, and you both think this is gonna be the moment when she finally calms down, but he doesn’t even reach the chorus before she starts crying again, a defeated sigh erupting from him.

“Maybe she wants it instrumental,” you suggest and Harry gives you one of those ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ looks as you leave to run down the hallway, right into your bedroom.

“How am I supposed to make it instru-- what the hell, Y/N?!” He gives you a weirded out look when you return with a guitar in your hands. “Since when do you play the guitar?” 

“Since like… eighth grade,” you tell him as you sit on the couch and holding the guitar on your lap you try to find the right accords. “I told you, you know nothing about me.”

Harry nods with a surprised but amazed look on his face as your fingers strum against the chords. It takes a few minutes but you figure it out and glancing up you give a questioning look to Harry.

“From the start?” you ask and he nods his head, continuously bouncing up and down to try to calm Val down.

You start playing the song and soon enough Harry joins you with the singing, the two of you perfectly nailing it even without any practice.

“Stop makin’ a fool out of me, why don’t you come on over, Valerie?”

Maybe it’s the guitar, maybe it’s the singing or maybe the fact that the song has her name in it, but by the time you reach the halfway point in the song Valerie’s crying slowly starts to fade. You instantly share a look with Harry, but don’t stop, fearing that she might start again if the music stops. 

Her tear soaked cheeks smooth out as she is not screaming anymore and you can actually see her irises finally, her long lashes are sticking together from the salty tears and you know it’s gonna take some time for her to regain her normal state, but at least the crying has stopped. 

“‘Cause since I’ve come on home, well, my body’s been a mess. And I’ve missed your ginger hair and the way you like to dress…”

You tear your eyes off Valerie for a second, letting yourself wander over Harry’s features as he sings. He slightly furrows his eyebrows focusing on the lines, so his forehead has a few creases on it. His lips form the words so clearly and elegantly, you wonder how often he sings. Is it something he only does when he is on his own or he likes to perform as well? 

The only time when you heard him sing was at the bar when the two of you slayed the karaoke machine with that Avril Lavigne song. You were smashed by then, you remember that he had a nice voice but it was the last thing you paid attention to. Besides, he was kind of equally drunk as you, it was all for just fun, but now is a completely different situation. 

It’s no surprise Valerie finds his voice soothing, you’d probably stop whatever you were doing if you heard him sing. There are people with a good voice and then there are the ones that not just have a good voice but also that small something, that extra magic in them that makes you melt as their voice caress your ears. Harry is definitely the second case, for a moment you forget where you are or why he is there singing. It’s just his voice and the gentle strumming of your fingers on the chords. 

At the end of the song he starts repeating Valerie as the song slowly fades into nothing and you both stare at the little girl in his arms, clearly afraid she might start crying again. Unfortunately, your reservations become valid when you see the corners of her mouth curls down and you and Harry share a shocked look immediately.

“What else can you play?” he urges as Val whimpers in his arms, letting you know she does not appreciate that the singing has stopped. 

“Shit, shit! Um, something from ABBA?” you propose and Harry nods quickly, not even asking which song you know, so you take it as a sign that he probably knows all of them.

The first song that comes to your mind is Andante, Andante and you don’t hesitate to start playing again, just in time. Valerie was just about to start crying again, but as soon as the melody hit her little ears she calmed down and listened to it with tired looking eyes.

“Take it easy with me, please. Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze…” Harry sings the words and you can’t hold a smile back as he, once again, hits the notes just perfectly without missing a beat.

You’re convinced there’s not one person on Earth who has never heard a single Abba song, most of the population knows them by heart, but somehow you couldn’t really imagine Harry to be a person who knows the lyrics to the songs as well. But he does and sings it without messing it up even just once. It’s hard to imagine a younger version of Harry singing ABBA songs when they come on the radio, but the more you think about it the more the picture paints itself in your mind.

Valerie lays her head to Harry’s chest, stuffing her thumb into her mouth as she listens to the performance. She is probably enjoying the vibrance of his voice shaking through his chest and maybe this is what brings her the peace she’s been looking for all this time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of them.

Harry glances at you, eyes so soft you melt under his gaze. However nerve wrecking it was to have Valerie scream for hours, she is still the cutest little thing ever as she rests her head on his chest, her long blinks giving it away she has definitely lost most of her energy. 

You don’t dare to stop the singing and playing. When you near the end of a song you quickly think of something else and whisper it over to Harry, who then gives his feedback on it with either a nod or a shake of his head. Most of the time he knows the songs you suggest so the show continues without a stop. 

Half an hour passes by when you see her eyes slowly closing. You still don’t stop though, only when Harry tries to listen to her breathing and he realizes that it was completely slowed down. She is out.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out quietly, your fingers feeling numb from the playing. You haven’t had a guitar in your hands for this long in a while, probably for years. Harry shares your relief, his throat has completely dried out and he is happy to finally breathe evenly, not just sneak a few breaths in between lines. 

“And now what?” he mouths as he is still gently swaying around with the sleeping Valerie in his arms. You put the guitar aside and check if she is for real asleep. Her long lashes are spread out on her puffy cheeks, gently snoozing into Harry’s chest as if she weren’t screaming for dear life just an hour ago. 

“Let’s put her down,” you whisper and nod at him to follow you. 

Reaching your bedroom you only switch your bedside lamp on so the light doesn’t wake her up. Pushing the stuffed animals to the side you grab the blankets and let Harry do the critical job. Leaning down he oh so slowly starts to pull her away from his chest, careful not to move too suddenly, it all feels like in those action movies when they are trying to get through the lasers without triggering the alarm. One bad move and the screaming threatens to start again and that’s the last thing you want, after all you’ve done to calm her down. 

You don’t even realize it but as you watch her little head reach the mattress you hold your breath, almost wincing upon seeing Harry’s hands slide out from under her sleeping frame. As if you wait for something to go wrong, both of you freeze for a moment, expecting her to start moving around and wake up, but she stays still. 

Eyes snapping up to Harry, you exchange a look and then you both head to the door, careful not to make any noise that can possibly shake Valerie up from her dreams.

“This was more tiring than running a marathon,” he huffs, throwing himself to the couch and you do the same next to him. 

“Have you ever run a marathon?”

“No,” he confidently answers and you look over at him with a puzzled look. “But I can imagine how tiring it is.”

You let out a chuckle, letting your eyes close for just a little bit. You haven’t even had the chance to realize how much this whole struggle with Val sucked the energy out of you, but now that you’re half lying on the couch it hits you all at once.

“I should get going,” you hear Harry mumble, clearly just as tired as you are, but he doesn’t move. 

“Mhm,” you hum, feeling yourself drift to sleep.

Neither of you moves and it doesn’t take a whole five minutes for the both of you to completely doze off.

The next time you wake up you feel an arm curled around your waist and someone is definitely pressed up against you while your back is against the back of the couch. It takes you a couple of moments and some blinking to realize it’s Harry you are all snuggled up to and the reason why you woke up is because Valerie is crying again. 

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself, mind still groggy from the sleep as you push yourself up on the couch. Just moments later Harry’s eyes flush open and you’re not sure it’s because of the crying or because you moved next to him. His arm slides off you as he looks around a little confused about his surroundings.

You don’t have the chance to think about how the two of you ended up cuddling on the couch, though it lingers in the back of your mind. Basically crawling over Harry you rush into your bedroom where Valerie is lying in her bed crying. It’s a different kind of cry, not like the one you were stuck with for hours before and you know she must be hungry.

“Ah, come on, little girl. It’s alright,” you coo at her scooping her into your arms. She immediately cuddles to your chest hiccupping against it, her little hands fisting your shirt. You leave to go to the kitchen and feed her, but just as you’re about to step out of the room you bump into Harry.

You bounce back from his chest, but his hand immediately reaches for you and grabs your arm, holding you in case you might fall back.

“Sorry,” you breathe out, thoughts still foggy a little. “She’s… hungry,” you explain, but he is standing so close to you, you can feel his body’s warmth and it instantly ignites the memory of being pressed against his side on the couch just moments ago and you can’t stop yourself from inhaling a shaky breath. 

“Let me help,” he croaks out and the two of you walk into the kitchen. Putting on her bib you hand her over to Harry who sits with her on his lap on a stoop as you get the baby food, warm it a little before joining the two of them and you slowly start feeding her.

“What time is it?” you ask realizing you have no idea how long you two have been asleep on the couch.

“It’s three am,” Harry answers before smiling down at Val. “Good job, Val!” he hums watching her take the spoon into her mouth.

You finish up feeding her, then give a try at burping her even though Rosa said it’s not necessary anymore. She just hums to herself so you head back to the bedroom, her eyes already threatening to close. By the time you put her back to the bed she is out again, so no private show is needed this time.

Walking out of the room you see Harry putting on his shoes and coat. For a split second you feel disappointed that he is leaving, but then your rational side puts you to your place. Of course he is leaving! Val is fine now, there’s no other reason for him to stay, right?

“Harry,” you softly say and he looks at you. “Can you please not tell Rosa and Steven that I needed help with Val?” you quietly ask, though there’s no doubt your eyes are practically begging him.

“No way I’ll ever admit to Steven that I sang ABBA to his child, so don’t worry about it,” he chuckles making you smile as well. 

“Thank you. And for helping me as well. I was really close to giving it up,” you admit folding your arms on your chest as Harry stands at the front door, hand on the door knob as he is looking back at you.

“No problem. Now you owe me one,” he smirks and you can’t hold yourself back from rolling your eyes.

“Sure,” you say with an airy chuckle. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he smiles at you sweetly before opening the door and walking out. 

You take his place at the door and watch him walk down the eerily quiet hallway. He turns back to you one last time waving in your way and you nod back smiling before he disappears around the corner.

Closing the door you lean your back against it, taking a deep breath. Your eyes wander over to the couch where you and Harry were sleeping not so long ago. The feeling of his arm around you is still burned into your mind and you breathe in shakily as a memory snaps into your head of the exact same thing, only years earlier.

You lied almost exactly like that in his hotel room that night. His strong arms wrapped around you as you had your head laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was slightly faster than the normal. Though you were still quite drunk, this feeling imprinted into your memories, because you felt so safe with him. Like nothing could ever hurt you if he was there with you.

Unfortunately, that feeling faded into nothing when you woke up in the morning quite fast. But this time, instead of disappointment and disgust, the only thing you still feel is the emptiness at the lack of his touch. 

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TAGLIST

let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off!

@f-vasquezp​ @perspnhel​ @http-cherries​  @h-arrystyles​ @just-damn-bored​ @millennial-teenybopper​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @gwenlovesharrystyles​ @perfectywrong​ @do-youseeme​ @burberryharold​  

[torchwoodfanfests]

Step-by-step guide on how to participate in the Bingo Fest: a manual for the uninitiated

As there may be people who have never participated in a fandom event like this before, we thought we’d provide you all with a step-by-step guide you can refer to throughout the fest in case you have difficulty figuring any of it out.  

This post will walk you through how to sign up and participate in our current fest, but if you have any further doubts don’t hesitate to ask us :)

Step 1: sign up

The first thing you need to do to participate is to go to this google form to sign up. Signups will be open from June 25th to July 31st. All that we require is a way to contact you (like an email or your tumblr url) so we can send you your bingo card. Once you’ve done that, you’ll receive your card shortly and can start creating!

Step 2: the bingo card

Here is an example of what the bingo card will look like:

As you can see, the cards will be 5x5 with a total of 25 prompts. After you read all the prompts, consider which one(s) you’d like to use as inspiration. Some people start with whichever prompt inspires them, some try to find which line of prompts they like the best (remember you get bingo by completing a straight line of 5 prompts, horizontally, vertically or diagonally). Some even attempt to complete the entire bingo card!

Once you decide which prompt(s) you’ll use, get started on your writing and/or art! You can combine different prompts for one piece or make one fanwork for each. For example, you can use the prompts ‘family’ and ‘prequel’ in one work. Remember that for this fest we set a minimum word count of 500 words per prompt for written fanworks, so if you choose to combine prompts into one fic, the minimum word count adds up (if you choose to combine ‘prequel’ and ‘family’, that’s 2 prompts, so that fic should have at least 1000 words; if you choose to combine ‘prequel’, ‘family’ and ‘torchwood one’ into one fic, the word count should be at least 1500 words, and so on). There is no maximum word count.

Artists can combine as many prompts into one piece as they want, but the total number of individual art pieces we require for bingo is three fanworks (can be a mix of different types of art). Participants can also combine writing and art as their submissions to get bingo.

For fanvideos and video edits you need a minimum of 30 seconds per square to fill the prompt. Prompts can be combined, and there is no maximum length. For playlists and tracklists, you need at least 3 tracks per prompt, plus a few lines of text to tell the story you’re putting together. This explanation can be written however you want, it can read like a summary of the story, like not!fic, like a short drabble, or you can just say why you picked the songs (e.g. “I picked this song because this lyric fits how this character was feeling when X happened”, or “this song illustrates this character’s opinion about Y”). As usual, prompts can be combined, and there is no maximum length.

Let’s use the sample bingo card to give you some examples of what completing a line might look like.

Note: for the prompt squares that have more than one option separated by slashes (like “plants/vegetables”) you need to use only one of them, the slash stands for “or” in this case.

Example 1: vertical line bingo (writing)

Fic #1: bed sharing, 650 words

Fic #2: rarepair + meet the family, 1000 words

Fic #3: torchwood one, 1400 words

Fic #4: the hub goes on lockdown, 520 words

In this case, each fic reaches the minimum word count of 500 words per prompt, as you can see. This could also look like one fic of at least 2500 words which hits all the prompts. More on posting after a few more examples.

Example 2: diagonal line bingo (art)

Art piece #1: bed sharing, moodboard

Art piece #2: crossover+undercover, digital painting

Art piece #3: family, edit

Art piece #4: plants/vegetables, digital painting

This example has one piece that combines two prompts, and three pieces for single prompts. With a total of four pieces, this counts as bingo (minimum for art submissions is a total of three if all your fanworks are art).

Example 3: horizontal line (writing+art)

Fic #1: torchwood one+prequel, 1200 words

Fic #2: family, 2000 words

Art #1: dancing, traditional drawing

Art #2: andy davidson, 30-second video

This example combines different types of fanworks and clears all the requirements (at least 500 word count per prompt and more than three pieces total).

Sidenote: if you’re having trouble thinking of what to do with a prompt, a good way to come up with ideas is to crowdsource the brainstorming process! Post about it on your blog asking for suggestions, ask a friend, discuss it in groupchats with other fans, or send us an ask for some suggestions.

Remember, you don’t have to go with the most obvious interpretation of a prompt, trope subversion and creative interpretations are welcome here! You got ‘mpreg’ but don’t want to get into an mpreg story? Write about Jack mentioning how there’s a humanoid alien race where men are the ones who get pregnant! Or have him make a comment about a male friend of his from the 51st century who carried a child. Or have any male character have a dream about being pregnant, whether that’s possible for them or not (and this is Torchwood, so nothing is quite impossible). Take the prompt and twist it into something you like!

Step 3: posting your works!

Once you start completing some fanworks, you can post them at any point for the duration of the fest (June 25th to August 25th). While you do not have to post them as you make them and could wait until the last day, we do not recommend that as we foresee there will be more people finishing some works at the last minute and so it’ll be easier for your fanworks to get attention if you post them early.

The posting process is simple: you need to post your work on your own tumblr first. This post needs to have: 1) the fanwork or a link to the fanwork, and 2) any relevant content warnings (check our list of mandatory content warnings here). Please note that anything that requires a content warning (including sexually explicit content) should be under a cut.

For fic, we recommend that you share some information in order to give potential readers an idea of what it’s about (title, summary, rating, prompt, and you can add an author’s note or more details if you want), and if you post to ao3, you should add it to our ao3 collection! You can do this when you first post it (or go back to edit later) under ‘Associations> Post to Collections / Challenges’, where you simply have to type torchwoodbingo2021 and select our collection. Art and fanvids can also be posted to ao3 and added to the collection!

Step 4: submitting your work for us to reblog

After you post your fanwork to your tumblr, you need to copy the link of the post and submit it to this google form so we can reblog it. We will not reblog posts that don’t have the appropriate content warnings so please be sure to warn as needed.

Step 5: creating your masterpost (optional)

Once you’re done with the fest, whether you’ve managed to get bingo or not (or, if you’re very ambitious, if you’ve cleared the entire card), we would recommend that you make a masterpost with all the works you’ve made for this fest. This is not required, but it’s very satisfying and it’s a good way to look back on what you’ve accomplished and to promote your fanworks again :)

Like the examples above, the typical masterpost would have your bingo card (with the prompts you’ve used marked in some way) and a list of your fanworks with links to each of them and which prompt they fill.

You can submit this masterpost to the same google form as above and we will reblog it as well :)

And that’s it!

If you have any further questions, you can send them here and we will try to answer them as soon as possible.

We hope this post helps clear some doubts about how the fest works and that we get as many people involved as possible ^_^

[rahabs]

2020 creator wrap: favourite works 🖤

rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favourite works that you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works.

tagged by @howevernot , who is an absolute sweetheart 🖤 Thank you!  I have created many, many works this year, and have written and created more than I have since... 2016, I believe, or thereabouts.  It has been an incredibly year for me from a creator standpoint and I have met so many wonderful new people as I dipped my wide duck feet into the Northwest Passage that is The Terror, all of whom made the absolute mess that was 2020 not only bearable but exciting and fun at times.  Thank you all so much!  Words cannot even express my gratitude.

1. the paths of glory lead but to the grave (fanfiction, rated M; the terror; joplittle, 28k; art masterpost)

This fic was my pinch-hit for the Terror Big Bang this year, and marked the first time I’d ever had the privilege of participating in a Big Bang in all my years of writing fanfiction.  I had missed the initial sign-ups because I was in the middle of my 1L exams when it was announced, and was very disappointed.  Imagine my surprise and happiness when I was contacted in what I believe was late July, asking if I would be interested in pinch-hitting!  I agreed, was paired with a phenomenal artist, and somehow by the grace of all that is holy managed to write just under 30k of joplittle angst in under a month.  It’s not my most popular piece (probably one of my least popular pieces by kudos and comments, if not the least), but it is the one I am most proud of all the same.

In 1851, a small fleet under the command of Captain Horatio Thomas Austin located the survivors of the ill-fated Franklin Expedition and brought twenty-some corpse-like figures back to England.  Given temporary leave to recuperate in the countryside following their ordeal, Edward Little and Thomas Jopson attempt to reconcile the past with the present and the fact that not all the ice was left behind in the Arctic.

Or, nearly 30k of survivor's guilt, intimacy, the softness and tragedy of the human connection, and learning to forgive.

“The men on Beechey,” Captain William Penney had asked him tentatively before they’d left King William Island, the two brigs under his command floating beyond Resolute’s sturdy decks, “who were they?”

Edward had thought back to those graves, dug deliberately into the frozen ground and lovingly, mournfully filled and marked; had thought about the care shown those young men, whom they had all thought to have the devil’s own luck at the time.  He’d then thought of another man, buried alone in a wild and savage land with nothing to mark his resting place; of weathered bones and lonely stones, and the ghost of a man who had only ever wanted to be seen consigned to an anonymous oblivion.

He never asked what it was that William Penney had seen in his face; had never asked what had made Alexander Stewart take the smallest of steps back as Edward’d said, simply:

“The lucky ones.”

2. labefaction (fanfiction, rated M; the terror; joplittle, 5k+)

This was me wanting to put Thomas Jopson in a dress and have Edward Little slide his hands up his skirts, but it sort of turned into a surreal little piece set during Fitzjames’ Carnivale in a universe where Crozier recovered early enough for him and Thomas to decide to attend.  Featuring Fitzjames also in the dress canon denied us, and yes, Edward’s hands up Thomas’ skirts :’) A fun little romp.

In the surreal realm of Fitzjames' Carnivale, Edward Little and Thomas Jopson share a dance.

Please, Thomas thought wildly, his own hands reaching out to grip the front of Edward’s vest and haul him forward, pressing as close as he could, desperate for the contact, the heat.  It was everything he had built up in his head, and yet it was nothing like that at all, and he wondered for a brief moment if it was even real, or if it was just another illusion of this place.

A gust of wind from the outside was like a bucket of cold water, but instead of deterring him, it only made Thomas more determined for contact, for the heat and warmth of the man in front of him, who was pushing him back, back, until his spine connected with one of the wooden supports and Thomas broke the kiss with a gasp, quickly swallowed.  There was a hand at his hip, at his skirts, sliding up against the thigh of the leg he’d hooked around Little’s waist, cold against his flushed skin.  The chill was delicious, and he craved more, just like he craved more of Edward’s gaze upon him, only him.  You’ve been seen, he thought, no, no.

Yes.

3. we are gone (playlist, spotify; the terror; surreal; 2h+)

The playlist I originally made while writing my TBB fic (linked above).  I was asked to post it, and so I did after making a quick album cover for it.  I am ridiculously proud of it, and was surprised by the positive feedback it received!  My personal favourite tracks include the opening track (Traust, by Heilung) and Myrkr, by Heldom.  Also ft. a couple songs by The Amazing Devil.

4. the ruin within (fanfiction, rated E; the terror; joplittle, 9k+)

This was my fic for the Joplittle Fall Fic Exchange, my first fic exchange in almost five years!  Because of how my pinch-hit for the TBB played out time-wise, I didn’t get to start on this one until a week before it was due, and I am honestly still very pleased with the results!  I wrote it for someone who wrote one of my all-time favourite joplittle fics, too, so that was an extra treat for me!

As preparations for Fitzjames' Carnivàle get underway, Edward Little offers to teach Thomas the quadrille.  Thomas just hopes he can survive the lieutenant's hands on him with his control intact and his secrets in check.

“And if I did?  If I wished it?  Alone, here, with you?”

There was that thing in Little’s face again, in the set of those cupid’s bow lips, swimming just below a surface that was not nearly as blank as most people believed, and Thomas, his own attentions sharp as a blade, made reckless by God only knew, pressed himself that much closer until—

A flicker.  A crack in the wall, in the foundation, in Little’s eyes, which widened just the slightest bit as they caught on his hands resting against Thomas’ waist, on Thomas’ mouth, and Thomas, never as good a man as he should have been and selfish besides, rested his hands on Little’s broad shoulders, took the sharp blade of want in his own chest, and plunged it into Little’s own without hesitation and without mercy.

“Oh, Lieutenant,” he whispered, leaning up, his mouth by Little’s ear as the man all but trembled in his arms, “I’m not that kind of girl.”

5. this colourless light (fanfiction, rated E; the terror; joplittle, nearly 5k)

This was just something I could not get out of my head, and that I wrote for fun.  It was, as I stated in the fic’s notes, entirely self-indulgent.  Entirely.  I just wanted some softness and tenderness, and so I gave it to myself, as I had been having a very bad week.  I really do like how it came out!

Thomas Jopson takes care of a frozen Edward Little, and an Arctic whiskey caper ends tenderly.

“My love, my own love,” Thomas was whispering, the words only half-spoken as Edward continued to kiss him, still shuddering, still shaking, the wool blanket heavy where it was still draped over them.   Edward slipped his hands up that trembling stomach, through the mess left there, a hot claim that he smeared over soft skin.

Honourary mention also goes to would you gain the tender creature, which I wrote in response to a prompt and which remains a personal favourite of mine, but that has featured in lists before so I figured I would spotlight some newer fics!

I am tagging @allegoriesinmediasres, @jamesclarkross, @rosewaterhag, @proudspires, @derry-rain, @thekenobee, @caravaggiosbrushes, @longstoryshortikilledhim, @distantsnows, @judiejodia, and any friends/mutuals/non-mutuals who see this and wish to participate, because I always forget to tag a couple of people despite my best efforts 🖤

[ghost-in-the-stalls]

Neil Josten's Playlist Part 5 - Nicky, Aaron, and Kevin

Masterpost and link to the playlist in its entirety here

Not as much to say about these three here - they each kind of speak for themselves I think.

Nicky

18. Relief - Chris Garneau

Of all the foxes, Nicky shows Neil more music than anyone else. Typically, though, it’s music Neil isn’t super into. Nicky knows Neil isn’t into most of the stuff he shows him, but Neil will still sit and listen to it with him if he is asked and isn’t busy, so Nicky keeps doing it anyway. I can imagine Chris Garneau being one of Nicky’s favorite artists, but one he keeps close to his heart. Several of his songs just hit me like they’re talking about the trauma and just general impact of growing up queer and topics like that, and I feel like it’s stuff that would really hit Nicky.

So Nicky listens to Chris Garneau (though he never was able to listen to Halloween the same again after what happened with Drake), but he doesn’t show Neil any of the songs intentionally. But one day Neil gets out of a class early and walks in on Nicky playing this one. He opens up to Neil about how much this music means to him, and Neil decides he likes the song. He keeps it.

33. Rocket Man - Elton John

Nicky loves Elton John. It's one of the artists he usually blasts on Sunday mornings in Columbia when they're all fighting hangovers. One morning he played this one and even got Aaron and Kevin singing along a bit (they were both still a bit drunk). Neil thinks back on that day and remembers it as a good one. Andrew looks back and remembers it as one of the more annoying ones.

60. Your Song - Elton John

Neil caught Nicky quietly singing this to Erik over video chat one morning in Columbia. For as boisterous and unapologetic as Nicky is (and for as much as he's always trying to get Neil and Andrew to act more like a "normal" couple with PDA and shit) it was a very vulnerable and private moment that Neil was a bit surprised by. He didn't walk in or make himself known, but he added the song to his playlist (and sometimes plays it on the car ride back from Columbia weekends for Nicky when he knows he's missing Erik).

Aaron

43. Up the Wolves - The Mountain Goats

Aaron has a lot of anger for someone who is only 5 feet tall. Neil may find him obnoxious as hell, and may deeply resent the way he holds that anger against Andrew. But I personally feel that an intrinsic and necessary step in repairing Aaron and Andrew's relationship comes with some sort of acknowledgement from Andrew that - regardless of what Tilda deserved, and regardless of what series of events unfolded upon her death - he hurt Aaron with what he did. He made a decision that Aaron did not ask him to make, nor did he want him to do it. And Aaron has every right to hold it against him. He doesn't need to regret doing it, but he needs to understand that doing it hurt Aaron deeply. I think it takes a long time for Andrew to reach this point, and when he does I don't think Neil really gets it at first.

However, I think once Neil has accepted and understood it as much as he can (he still struggles with his own mommy issues, okay?) he begins to understand Aaron much more. This song is a bit of an enigma in a lot of ways; I've never met someone who really fully gets what it's about exactly. Even the artists themselves have vague and changeable understandings of where it came from. But the clear theme of the song is anger and resentment, and carrying forward with those feelings. Maybe you'll let them go, maybe you'll act on them. Maybe you'll just keep feeling them for a while. Who knows when the hurt will go away? You're justified in your anger, but it doesn't make it any nicer to feel. Neil doesn't fully understand Aaron, but he starts to understand how he feels, at least.

62. Such Great Heights - The Postal Service

Listen. Neil doesn't willingly think of Aaron when he hears this song. It's a very nice song and he won't let that bastard ruin it for him.

Did he have a phase where he listened to it a lot to try and get himself to not associate it with Aaron? Absolutely. Did it work? Absolutely not.

In all seriousness, there are only a few songs that make Neil think of Aaron and this is one of them SOLELY because Aaron drunkenly mentioned it was his and Katelyn's song when it came on the radio one time. Something about hearing that and then listening to the sound felt very real and human to Neil. It helps remind him that Aaron does have feelings, actually, and does have it in him to care about other people. These are good things to keep in mind when he's trying really hard not to punch Aaron in the face for Andrew's sake.

Also it has a really nice sound. So he has begrudgingly added it to his playlist and he listens to it spitefully.

64. Wake Me Up - Avicii

Neil wouldn't believe Aaron listened to music this carefree and positive if he didn't witness it himself. He learns a bit more about Aaron every day they interact (against his will of course) and this is another song that helps him understand Aaron a bit better.

He has dreams and goals and he really wants to be happy. He wants to enjoy life. And it's really fucking hard to do that for anyone in their group. Neil seeing Aaron actually hold some amount of passion or desire for something better gives him a better view of the guy. Neil guesses everyone must need some amount of optimism once in a while.

Kevin

4. Amsterdam - Guster

So obviously Neil has never been through a breakup (well I actually hc that he and Andrew almost broke up after Andrew graduated, but they pulled their asses together and that’s a post for another time). But the thing is that Kevin absolutely has! And we all know how Kevin wallows when he’s upset. And Kevin Day is a Guster fan. You cannot take that away from me. So Kevin goes through a breakup and is blasting Guster in the dorm like no one else lives there.

Now Neil is pretty observant and analytical. I mean he had to be for years, so it’s kind of just in his nature now. Most breakup songs he hears are louder and angrier and predictable to him. Not in a bad way, but he expects that they’ll pretty much usually be either angry or sad in style, neither of which he tends to be very fond of. So he heard this one and it’s more upbeat tune without being overly loud or aggressive and I think that really intrigued him. It gets stuck in your head, but it’s the kind of breakup song that - even if you are going through a breakup - leaves you just feeling pretty good! Even if it is in a bitter way. So Neil’s brain just sort of latched onto this one and kept it close. It helps that it reminds him of Kevin in a way that is so intrinsically HUMAN. He can try to be an exy player before a person all he wants, but even Kevin experiences heartbreak and frustration. He's a whole person, too - just like Neil.

40. Still - Ben Folds

Yes, Nicky and Matt made him watch Over the Hedge. Yes, that is where he found this song. Yes, it still kind of makes him think about the sad turtle. Don't tell anyone.

Seriously, though, Neil latched onto this song initially for the smooth, sad sound. Then he listened to the lyrics. It really hits him once he's captain and he suddenly has all these added responsibilities piled onto him. He now has to appear respectable and put-together, and he doesn't have room for mistakes. It doesn't help that Kevin is reminding him of their deal with the Moriyamas at literally every turn, as if Neil doesn't KNOW the stakes and the pressure on him at any given moment.

But, oh, Kevin. Neil can roll with his punches with ease because, really now. Kevin is more terrified than he ever lets on anymore. "No room for weakness", but he hits himself with that reminder before taking it to Neil. He's stubborn and frustrating, and he can be downright cruel and unreasonable. But he's hurting himself with his scathing remarks long before they leave his lips to attack anyone else. Neil thinks about this, and he doesn't have it in him to be quite as angry anymore. He sees Kevin, and he know Kevin sees him too. He just doesn't know how else to provide support, and he isn't really in a good spot to be supporting anyone else at the moment anyway. Neil can only hope that, with time, Kevin can let himself feel safe the way Neil is learning to.

56. Dance Monkey - Tones and I

Neil heard this song and applied it immediately to Kevin. He's seen first hand now how much work it is for Kevin to maintain his image and career the way he does while balancing all the baggage that comes with it. The people in the audience who root for him the strongest are the same ones who rooted for Riko and the Ravens a while back. They're the same ones who thought he lost a brother the day his abuser died, who thought joining the foxes would be a huge gut punch to his career.

There's a lot that's expected of Kevin, and there's a lot of trauma he carries that people seem to think are memories he looks back on fondly. And that's a facade he has to keep up.

Neil sees this and he knows how hard it is for Kevin. He knows.

[fics-not-tragedies]

Chaptered series & parted fics masterlist

💦 smut | 🌻 fluff | 🔪 stab-in-the-back-angst | 💧 cry-baby-angst | 🩸 bloody-hell  | 👌🏻 personal favorite | 👏🏻 readers favorite | 📚 series | 📕 parted fic | 📛 trigger warning | ❗ AU | ✔ finished |  ✖ put on hold | ➡ ongoing | 👀 coming very soon

everything that’s crossed out hasn’t been written yet;

everything that isn’t crossed out, but does not include a link to the mentioned part/chapter, was not posted yet;

(if I posted new part/chapter and didn’t updated the masterlist it’s because I’m a lazy ass, and you can bully me to do so)

Call me Señorita  📕 💦💧👏🏻  ✔

(John Wick) You were always his friend, but you did things that friends don’t do. Being his safe heaven felt like your duty, but after all of those years you still kept holding onto the thought that his feelings just don’t show.

Part One: Land in Miami - Part Two: Sapphire moonlight - Part Three: Locked in the hotel - the song that inspired this fic  

Call off the search for your soul  📕 💦❗  ✔

(John Wick x Santino D’Antonio) John spots a handsome guy at the strip club who turns out to be the heir of the D’Antonio family and challenges himself to take him home, which later leads to the two of them forming a relationship.

one - two - three - four  

Dirtbag ballet  📕 💦❗  ✔

(young!John Wick) Jardani is the brightest star at the Ruska Roma and Director’s protege. Even with being under heavy pressure to become the best assassin in the whole world he managed to find a friend.

one - two - three - four

Summer Wine 📕 💦👏🏻  ✔

(Keanu Reeves) Summer vacations spend with Keanu in Paris. Muggy evenings filled with long walks, wine drinking and loads of crazy sex.

Part One: Deep trouble - Part Two: A little death - Part Three: Enthusiasm paraphernalia - Part Four: Taste on my tongue - Part Five: Touch me there - the playlist  

A lesson to teach me  📕 💦👏🏻❗  ✔

(professor!Keanu Reeves) He was always her favorite English professor. She was always the best student with perfect grades. When he fails her on one of the important exams and asks her to see him after class, she’s surprised to hear his confession about why he graded her exam with an F.

Part One: Send you back to schooling - Part Two: You've been learning, I've been yearning - Part Three: You need cooling - Part Four: I'm going to give you my love - Part Five: Way down inside, honey, you need it - the playlist

How do you sleep?  📕 💧💦 👀

(John Wick) After your ways parted, every bridge was burnt and the relationship ended for good the universe had planned a surprise for you two - it made your paths cross once again. Perhaps this is a second chance for you and John to rebuild everything.

one - two - three

Think of Me  📕 💧💦 ✔

(John Wick) You were a figure from his past, the one he never confessed his true feelings for. After taking job at the Continental he sees you too often and thinks of you too often to deny how he feels about you.

one - two - three - four

Dead as Dead Can Be  📕 💦🩸 ➡

(Constantine) Constantine’s relationship with Angela Dodson didn’t worked out, they just remain… in touch. But there’s another woman that haunts his life on a daily basis and now she needs his help in restoring the balance.

Prologue: Itchy bones - Part One: Pinned down by the dark - Part Two: Le nuit du chasseur - Part Three: Hoovering above my bed - Part Four: Out of the black - Part Five: I’m a freak bitch, baby - Part Six: I pleasure you with pain - Part Seven: Down to my knees you do promote me - a glimpse of how Constantine met Adrienne: First impressions of the century - *more coming soon* - the playlist - aesthetics

Vanishing Point  📕 🔪💦❗  ✖

(John Wick) After she stopped John from killing D’Antonio on Continental grounds Juliet leaves him with an offer - she wants to join Wick in getting revenge on the Italian mobster without risking an Excommunicado for both of them.

Prologue: You’re lucky that she’s here - Part One: They might be onto us - Part Two: Make a wish for me baby - Part Three: As if the earth’s reserved for you and I - Part Four: We just slipped off the radar - Part Five: Want to call it a night - Part Six: You're a thousand times mine - Part Seven: I am a thousand yours - Part Eight: Until the vanishing point - a glimpse into Juliet’s past: Threatening behavior - the playlist - aesthetics

Redemption  📕 🔪👌🏻  ✖

(John Wick) He broke one of the crucial rules and now he has to pay a price. With the whole world against him and 15 milion dollars bounty on his head it’s hard to live through another day. The help he needs will take the shape of a figure from his past.

Part One: Your suicide is not a plan - Part Two: You know I will see you again - Part Three: There's nothing left to die - Part Four: The stars are trapped inside - Part Five: Fallen angel of the night - Part Six: Just take my heart, just rip it out - Part Seven: I feel something deep in my chest - Part Eight: My heart remains the same  - drabbles: 1 - the playlist - aesthetics

Memories to be made  📚 🌻💧📛  ✖

(young!Keanu Reeves) In the process of recovering from an accident that caused a temporary memory loss Emelia meets Keanu - a very charming young man with an unusual name. When she slowly falls for him it turns out they both have some secrets…

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - the playlist - aesthetics

Intervistare  📕 💦👌🏻  ✖

(Santino D’Antonio) You, are a journalist that got an exclusive interview with Santino for the magazine you worked in. With every new meeting you two fall deeper with each other.

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

Reckless Serenade  📕 🔪💦 ➡

(Santino D’Antonio) When her father passed away she started to feel lonely once again, even her mother and sister couldn’t help her with filling the hole the death of her father left in her heart and soul. So she mourns him her own way - by throwing herself into endless loop of going out and partying really hard every night. But only until she meets Santino - a man who used to work with her father that makes her feel wanted again.

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven

In a Week  📚 🌼💧💦👏🏻 ✖

When Flo escapes to a hotel in the middle of the woods to clear her mind, before a big decision she has to make, she’s more than surprised when there she meets a man who will change her view of life.  

masterpost

One Day in December  📕 🌼💧💦👏🏻  ✔

They see each other every year at a Christmas party, where with every twelve months that’ve passed Andrew and Bianca grow closer and closer, and even through heartbreak they realize that they fell deeply in love with each other.  

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten - epilogue 

White Christmas  📕 🌼💦👏🏻  ✔

(Tom Hiddleston) You - a well respected doctor - organize a Christmas party to raise money for your foundation. A charming stranger catches your eye which leads to spending the evening in his company, dancing, chatting, drinking and even much more than that…  

one - two - three - four

Kisses  📚 🌼💧💦 👀

(Tom Hiddleston) A view of your relation with Tom shown through the various types of kisses you shared throughout the length of your whole romance.

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (19 [INTERMISSION 2])

A/N: cut to me rubbing my little fly hands together — i am SO excited to get this ball started that i’m literally boutta post 2 chapters, so bear with me here ,., also, posting them now because i’ve gotta go to work at around 11 and then dont wanna do posting/edits at like, midnight lmao 

bc that’s when im just gonna. keep writing., im so excited for this arc y’all im literally shaking

WARNINGS: massive descriptions of disassociation, being lightheaded, mentions of being dehydrated, mentions of not eating, threats of being pushed down the stairs, bandage mention ig? — i think that's all on this one!!!

Words: 1181

AO3 link!

MASTERPOST! <– look here!! for the longterm warnings!! including sympathetic Deceit and cursing/swearing!

enjoy !!! <3 <3 <3 <3 

“You’re in my world now, not your world~”

“Why are there so many stairs?”

“And I’ve got foes on the other side~”

“Wait, that’s not the lyric.”

“Sit down at my table~”

“.....Fine.”

“Put your mind at ease~”

“I put a spell on you~”

A small, tired laugh. “If you relax, it will enable me to do….”

“And now you’re mine~!”

“...Anything I please. I can read your future~”

“Be prepa-ared!”

“I can change it ‘round some, too~”

“Trust in me~”

More laughter. “Ironic.”

“Fuck off or I’ll drop you down the stairs. You started it!”

“I know, I know. It’s all almost done. I only hope Thomas is-I hope he’s okay.”

“Eh, who gives? He’ll be fine soon enough, don’t worry your bandages off. Come on, your gown is waiting.”

Thomas flicked his feet left and right, watching the television while paying absolutely zero attention while laying on the couch upside down. After failing to summon the Sides that morning, he’d gone to watch television, and found himself rewatching The Office again in a semi-binge state. It’d take a solid four days to watch it all but it wasn’t like Thomas had the motivation or drive to do anything else, despite the looming deadline on the new video’s script.

On any other day, he’d be able to hear Virgil screaming at him, Roman rushing around with ideas, butting heads with Logan over rewrites and edits. Patton’d pop in with some supportive words and an offer to make dinner sometimes.

But now? Now he wasn’t getting anything. It was as though all of his sides had clocked out at once — even Deceit and Remus weren’t delivering input. And whatever was holding back any of the other Sides he had (because, lets face it, Thomas had no idea how many Sides there were in total, especially not after Remus’ introduction) wasn’t letting up. So, using every ounce of deductive reasoning he had left, Thomas figured that he just. No longer had a personality.

The more he thought about that, though, the more he considered how irrational that would be. But he didn’t care enough to believe a separate reasoning? And didn’t have the focus, creativity, or capacity to think of a different explanation.

So, The Office. 

He had been sitting on this couch for upwards of twelve hours. Probably bordering on sixteen to seventeen hours, but he couldn’t count. It was long past sunset outside, perhaps the stars were out. 

An empty pizza box was sitting on the couch beside him. At least he had the common sense to eat one meal — an extra large pepperoni meal, but a meal nonetheless.

What the heck was happening?

The phone on his chin, balanced there out of boredom a few hours ago, buzzed and nearly fell off. 

Thomas’ hand smacked up to it, causing his phone to fall and hit his nose. That caused a chain reaction of him falling over, first sideways onto the couch, then rolling off the couch all together and onto the floor. 

So much for “nothing happening.” Thomas groaned as he pushed himself up onto his elbows and grabbed his phone, which had slid beneath the table. 

He flicked it on.

JOAN —> IMG0492.JPG

Ah. Thomas squinted and opened it. 

It was a Sanders Sides meme, one of the new templates. He covered his mouth and snorted with laughter, shaking his head. 

Another text from Joan dinged.

JOAN —> you alive? you missed prime coffee shop writing hours

Oh, heck. Thomas mentally chided himself. He and Joan were going to hunker down at a cafe and hash out the new script today to get it done before the deadline. Of course he forgot, like an absolute doofus. 

He began typing out a response. The thought of lying flitted through his mind, the excuse of being “out of it” wasn’t exactly the best reason. He thought for a second but he couldn’t even think of an adequate lie. Wow. Even Deceit had clocked out. Thomas probably should have tried to summon him, now that he thought about it. A little past time, but, oh well.

Alright, the truth. How the heck was he supposed to explain that he couldn’t think? Thomas pushed himself off the floor on his elbows, but winced as the weight seemed to leave his head almost immediately. He kept a hand on the couch as he sat up on his knees, one hand running through his hair and then resting on the back of his neck. 

How long had he been sitting upside down again? Goodness gracious. Part of him wanted to be worried about the repercussions of not having a coherent thought process, but the other was kinda singing Disney songs on repeat. 

In actuality, the most coherent thoughts he had held all day was the nonstop playlist of Disney songs that seemed to run through his head. 

At least that meant Roman was still kicking? That’s what that meant, right?

Oh, yeah, the text. Thomas pushed himself up onto the couch, ignoring how both of his legs seemed to be asleep, buzzing with the prickly pain of pinched nerves and a lack of blood. Lack of blood. All the blood was in his head. Heheheh. 

Gosh, he should sleep soon, he was getting light headed. Had he had any water today, actually? The thought of water made his throat run dry — no, no he hadn’t.

Focus, Sanders. He bit his tongue and typed out a response. Using both thumbs, because for some reason, his single-hand coordination was not working.  

THOMAS —> Yeah. Sorry about that, I think I’m sick or something. Haven’t been able to hold a thought all day and my head is super light.

JOAN —> thats fair, do you have tea or some soup? :( if youre that sick do you wanna push the script deadline a day or two? 

What did Thomas do to deserve Joan, they were always such a beacon of sunlight. He smiled to himself and responded as fast as he could while typing like a technologically illiterate fool, one letter per minute.

THOMAS —> That would be awesome. I’ve got tea, too. Think I’m gonna go to sleep soon though

THOMAS —> Could we push one day? And if you’re still not doing anything on Sunday, we could reschedule 

JOAN —> okay, I’ll let the team know. you get some sleep!!

JOAN —> I’m down for prime coffee shop o’clock on Sunday. 9 am at brewed awakening?

JOAN —> if you need some soupy soup let me know 

Then they sent a cat gif with hearts from Giphy. What an angel. 

Thomas exhaled and leaned back on the couch. He put his phone flat on his forehead, then crossed his arms. That was the best news to come out of today, honestly. One day was better than no days. And if he and Joan could mix up some good ideas on Sunday, then all the better. 

Hopefully that’d give the Sides enough time to figure out what the flip was happening in there.

taglists!

chivalry taglist: @starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda @askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil @theobsessor1 @ninja-wizard101 @fandomsofrandom

general taglist: @jemthebookworm @okay-finne

[thefigureinthecorner]

tbs art playlist dump

i want to share my playlists but a) don’t feel like making covers for all of them just yet and b) don’t wanna inundate my blog with playlist posts, but they are relevant to my art cause they help with Drawing Emotions n stuff so i’m still posting them on this blog

i’ll stick the links under the cut so i can keep adding to them, since i make them as i find more songs that fit and clicking a read more conveniently always links back to the original post, so 👌 

also there are some notes bc thought processes are fun

am archives stuff

this playlist is p much just all the music that gets me in the Sad AM Archives Mood for drawing anything in like. the latter half-ish of the episodes. lyrically there isn’t a whole lot of relevance it just gets me in the right headspace for drawing The Emotions (edit: a lot of these songs have become lyrically relevant since i made this post. i’m crying all the time over every song i listen to. goddammit.)

also there is one song (not on this playlist anymore) that i put on loop for drawing specifically Helen and that’s The Mind Electric-- again, more mood relevance than lyrical relevance, though the title is. oddly accurate

honorable mention: black pear tree by the mountain goats and kaki king cause it’s not on spotify but hot damn

joan/owen

it’s just a lot of sad, pine-y love songs. honestly it’s mostly from owen’s perspective cause there’s been a lot of that lately, and as far as i can tell owen’s where most of the love was coming from in this relationship anyway

share your address- ben platt: frankly, almost all of ben platt’s music gives me strong owen vibes, with a few exceptions. this one’s just owen being super in love. that’s the whole thing.

flaws- bastille: there’s a lot about this song that’s perfect for these two but two sections in particular: “When all of your flaws and all of my flaws/Are laid out one by one/The wonderful part of the mess that we made/We pick ourselves undone” and “All of your flaws and all of my flaws/When they have been exhumed/We'll see that we need them to be who we are/Without them we'd be doomed”

the first bit because of everything with Mark, and the second bit because of the last few episodes and the whole “maybe making the mistakes we have makes us uniquely suited to do better in the future” thing

quiet light- the national: owen, post-breakup, probably. the whole thing is good, but “Between you and me/I still fall apart at the thought of your voice” is the part that convinced me to put it here.

title and registration- death cab for cutie: i had this one stuck in my head while drawing owen at one point i think, and then it kinda just. hit me how well it worked. “There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade/And now that it's gone, it's like it wasn't there at all/And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide/Lying awake at night”

better- ben platt: yeah it’s ben platt again and i can’t even point to specific lyrics it’s just the whole song. this one’s on owen’s main playlist too but it had to be here

you can do better than me- death cab for cutie: not sure about the first verse, but the rest of the song?? fuck

tompkins square park- mumford and sons: also a song that’s on owen’s main playlist, but it’s on this playlist because after am archives 15 it’s destroying me.

i don’t wanna love somebody else- a great big world: gonna let the lyrics speak for themselves: Oh, we left it all unspoken/Oh, we buried it alive/And now it's screaming in my head/Oh, I shouldn't go on hoping/Oh, that you will change your mind/And one day we could start again/Well I don't care if loneliness kills me/I don't wanna love somebody else

like. excuse me.

this whole song just straight up is his conversation with Sam in am archives 13 huh

owen

i know i’ve linked to this one before on my blog (the notes are here if you want them) but i’m sticking it in the masterpost anyway

this one exists cause a) i draw him a lot and b) there wasn’t a playlist for owen, which is a decision i respect, but also the one song we do have for him kind of. doesn’t help me draw him. i feel like it makes it harder for me to draw him? the song suits him, lyrics-wise, and i understand why it’s his song, but also there’s a lot tone-wise that just takes me out of drawing him a bit. idk why. anyway here’s a playlist

mark

i made this one cause the official mark playlist was Happy Mark Songs, which is great and i’m glad he gets happy songs, but also i very rarely draw him happy (sorry mark i swear ily) and i needed a playlist of Sad Mark Songs. side note: i probably could have added like half the radical face discography to this playlist

paint’s peeling- rilo kiley: there’s a lot about this song that fits, but one line specifically that put this song on the playlist: And, oh, I'm not going back to the assholes that made me

i hate u, i love u- gnash (ft. olivia brian): see damien’s notes on this song, i wrote those before i wrote mark’s and it’s on both playlists for the same reasons

hard of hearing- radical face: holy shit

dead ends- radical face: also holy shit

personal giants (alternate reality version)- radical face: stop me if you’ve heard this before, but: holy shit. also this is totally a mark and joan song. maybe mark and sam also. just mark looking up to all the people who have ever loved him in any way

something good can work- two door cinema club: took this one from his official playlist; i love two door cinema club so i felt like i had to

a better son/daughter- rilo kiley: added this one after episode 14 of the am archives cause i re-discovered rilo kiley like right before that episode came out and aaaaaaaaa

older- ben platt: it’s sad in a Mark Way. idk how else to describe it.

mistakes we knew we were making- straylight run: i know i say this a lot but like......... it’s the whole song. look at the lyrics and try to tell me this isn’t a mark song.

stage 4 fear of trying- frank iero: “and i found some scars in places i have never shown to anyone/i don't know why it took so long to get back home/"if you could hear the dreams i've had my dear..."/yeah i know you've heard that line before/but if i had the chance to scream all the things i've underlined”

still feel- half alive: yeah ok so this is a more upbeat one but it needed to be here. again, a lot about this song works, but like. “Trying to recognize myself when I feel I've been replaced” is the line that got it here

ok ok- half alive: the lyrics kinda work, but honestly, it just Felt Like A Mark Song to me.

damien

it’s either this playlist or, just, The Entire Bastille Discography, cause for some reason their music really suits him imo. this one and the owen one are the ones i consider closest to being complete.

bloody shirt- to kill a king: idk where to even start with this song tbh like i think the lyrics are just his entire post-safehouse arc so it’s definitely something i’ve listened to a lot while drawing him

blame- bastille: another post-safehouse one but this one very specifically links back to the Get The Hell Out conversation him and mark have; fall upon your knees, saying, "this is my body and soul here"/fall and begging, pleading, "you've got the power and control"/don't pin it all on me

reaper man- mother mother: this one’s from the Official Playlist™ and it’s here for p much the same reasons it’s on the official one, with the addition of it helps me draw him. it’s also the only one that i think does from that playlist? which isn’t me bad-mouthing the playlist, i feel like the songs definitely suit him, but again: suiting him and helping me draw him are two very different things

gold- imagine dragons: yeah again it’s just the whole damn song

look what you made me do- our last night (cover): i think lauren shippen posted about this being a damien song on either her blog or the bright sessions blog at one point? and shortly after that this cover showed up in my recommended videos so that’s how that happened

birthright- celldweller: i don’t even remember how i thought of this song while i was making the playlist given it’d been literal years since i listened to celldweller but it worked and it’s here

the hearse- matt maeson: the stripped version of this song is on owen’s playlist because it sounded kind of sad/apologetic; this one doesn’t. this one is still kinda sad but it’s angrier. it’s leaning more towards mark/damien territory; i stuck a couple of those songs on this playlist because a) i don’t draw mark/damien much and b) in the rare cases i do, the official playlist works for me

i hate u, i love u- gnash (ft. olivia brian)- another mark/damien one and also another official playlist song cause i heard it the first time and went oh shit so it’s here now

current works in progress

no links, but i have a lot of songs in mind for these ones that i just haven’t put together into playlists yet:

sam

sam/mark

joan

joan and mark

[icharchivist]

Hiii what’s this HPM manga you’re live-blogging about? It looks interesting

oH HI!! 

Oh my god where do i even start with this it’s actually kinda cheesy dkjhfd

So actually the manga is not even exactly the official thing it’s kind of a bonus jkdhfd but basically if you’ve seen me ramble about it for a few.... weeks? months? I lost count -

It’s based on a fictional musical universe called Hypnosis Mic, (hypmic for short, i tag it hpm so it doesn’t clog the tags) so it’s actually the songs/drama tracks that are the most important storytelling wise, but they adapted the way each bands formed in manga form (so the first drama track of each of the band’s albums)

Honestly the worldbuilding is really cheesy but it’s honestly all a pretext for the songs, basically weapons had been made illegal after the new government came to power after WW3 and were remplaced instead by Hypnosis Microphones, weapons that are only powerful with your words and flow and all of that, which gives waves sounds that affects directly the brain so the more on point they are the more they hurt and they can be deadly. (as i said, cheesy) 

And in this universe there are state organized territoriy battles where each of the 4 Divisions around the center of the city well, fight for territories, in glorified gladiator’s battle for the enjoyement of the center of the city’s territory (long story)

Each band has a specific aesthetic/theme going on, huh, the intro song puts it better than i would (and imo this is the place where you should start the story)

(here’s a link with a playlist of the songs and previews while i’m at it, and here’s a translation to this song in particular and here’s a ref for all the rest of the translations)

I should mention that the project was kickstarted by 12 seiyuu which is why it’s such a weird format, but they also do so in collaboration with a lot of rap bands in Japan and gives them credits and spotlights with each songs, so it ended up being kind of a heartfull fiction to bring some spotlight to a style that is otherwise a bit overlooked in Japan, which i find kinda sweet personally. 

And I should mention that as it works as Rap Battle, during battle seasons it’s actually us as the Audience who pick who wins the Battles, which is kindof a very fun thing goign on??? the first Battle Season is over now and the new one is barely starting so we already had our winner and all, but i really like how they involve the audience in the way the plot unfold ahah

Anyway my favs are Fling Posse and i love them SO MUCH, and like every characters have different personalities and backstory that makes it all fun (i went in details that might be spoilery there if you want) and anyway Fling Posse ruined my life,

AS FOR THE MANGA so far there had been 3 of the manga adaptations that were translated, there’s a 4th one on the road of being published though and huuuuh how to explain.

Basically the Story is told by music album, and each album has about 2 Drama Tracks - a Main story one and a Sidestory one. In the first 4 album, the first drama track are about how each band formed, and the second establish the dynamics inside the band.

The manga covers the first drama tracks: The first manga covers the Buster Bros and Mad Trigger Crew first drama tracks,  The second manga (that i’m currently rereading) covers the Fling Posse and Matenrou’s first drama track. (ah although i should warn, cw self harm in the Matenrou’s part and regular violence in the MTC’s and MTR’s manga)

The Third manga is still ongoing and it covers the prequel of the story, that also happens to be the prequel of the Drama Track from..... the 8th album? I think? The Champion’s album. It might be super confusing to read without knowing the story at all tbh, i’m linking it just in case. 

The Fourth one hadn’t been published yet but it seems it will cover the Before the Battle’s Drama Tracks (so the Drama Tracks set before the Rap Battle’s albums)

Anyway the chronology is on the translation masterpost i linked, and i would enter more in depth (and share actual links to the full stuff in private if willing - the fandom tends to keep our illegal sharing in private while we can kdjhfdf) - but yeah the manga really is just a bonus adaptation of the intro parts.

If you want to read them at least to get a glimpse at the characters you’re free to do so though - i mean it’s really a character driven story after all so getting to know the characters before deciding to get into it is always a good try.  (i DO think it’s more interesting to know the solo songs of each characters before jumping in the story developped in the manga/drama track since it gives you infos about each of them, but it’s up to you)

It’s just that the whole parts where they prove each other by rap battle is REALLY CHEESY in Silent Manga ahah, it works better in the drama tracks.  And that since it adapts only the first drama tracks you might not see why i care about some dynamics (For exemple i’m obsessed with Gentaro and Dice’s dynamic but they have yet to adapt their dynamic on paper. Or well, the latest preview did but i’m not touching how much i’ve been screaming since-)

God I make it sound more complicated than it is, all i mean is, check out the playlist i’ve linked, check out the translation link, and if you want to try out the manga since this is all the introductions of the characters you still wouldn’t miss much even if they don’t cover all the drama tracks, it might be a good introduction if you���re curious.

And if you need a more organized “how to get into it step by step” i may try to do something more coherent to justify it jdkhfdjk i’m just. very all over the place when it comes to this fandom ahah

hope you have fun with this to start with at least? 

Take care and let me know if you need more infos :3c

[argentdandelion]

Undertale Fan Works Good for Analysis

These are all Undertale fan works that, for various reasons, are good for analyses, to the point I could probably write 1,000 words about them. It is not meant to reflect all the Undertale fan works I like, merely those I am most likely to post about, as I specialize in analysis.

This list is not exhaustive and may be added to in the future.

Symbol Index ☆=Mentioned in (a) post(s) before ★=Written extensively about before (For these, click the star to go through the tag)

★Zarla-s' Handplates (comic)

To spare Asgore's suffering, the former royal scientist W.D. Gaster tries to find some way to destroy or bypass the Barrier without killing humans. To this end, he creates two "artificial constructs" of skeleton monsters, which shall be his test subjects for whatever experiments are required. It's too bad those test subjects are sentient...(Warning: is dark.)

☆Coffeelemental's The Anomaly (comic, with playable segments)

Twelve years after the Pacifist ending, monsters live peacefully on the Surface, with Frisk keeping that fragile peace intact by secretly reloading and stopping conflicts. But Frisk's power over the timeline is quite a problem to several someones. Seven very special people, in fact...

Mentioned in footnotes here and here.

★Camila Cuevas's GlitchTale (a video series; link to the first season)

Frisk saves where they shouldn't be able to. This impossibility causes the whole timeline to get really glitched up...

LynxGriffin's Dogs of Future Past (fan work with comic and text portions)

To save the long-forgotten former royal scientist W.D. Gaster, Frisk accesses the dormant save state of one of Endogeny's component dogs. Things get complicated...

Unrestedjade's Flowey is Not a Good Life Coach (fanfiction)

He really isn't. (the most popular Undertale dark fic, for good reason.)

(Also has a comic version, by thefluffyslipper.)

★Blackrazorbill's SOUL Dichromatism (fanfic)

One small change snowballs into a big one, and now monsters are waging a forty-year-long war with humanity on the Surface. When an experimental device called the SOUL Drainer is tested on a human captive, Frisk, something unexpected happens: it causes the captive to turn into a monster...

Has two to three illustrations each chapter.

★CleverCatchphrase's You Monster (fanfic)

Frisk falls into the Underground at five years old. A head injury from the fall causes amnesia. To protect them from even leaving the Ruins and getting killed, Toriel encourages Frisk's delusion they're a monster like her. Years later, Frisk gets locked out of the Ruins, and seeks out the only person who can help them return home: Asgore.

that1nkyone's/1nky's Spectrum (fanfic)

Sans has a strange new form, and soon, so does Papyrus. A long-forgotten scientist is behind it all...(Warning: is dark)