#because i think it would be really interesting to make them work out their life together and how they'd find community and such

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

i have headcanons for pregnant betas in ABO

During pregnancy a beta insttead of nesting they hide and aislate themselves,they also would try to hide it from his/her couple as long as they can and often feel depressed and insecure wonder if they alpha/Omega would reject them and the pup

So how would be HSR men when beta s/o starts to act like that and after research they find beta is pregnant and tried to hide it from them?

What an interesting headcanon! I'd love to read more of your headcanons you have for betas if you want to share :3

I made the guys alphas(though it's not exactly mentioned) because omegas getting other dynamics pregnant is pretty much unheard of though I'd probably make a whole separate post exploring that in the future idk

cw: omegaverse, pregnancy

Aventurine

It's been some time since he and his beta have spent some time together partially due to his work and theirs so he doesn't notice his beta withdrawing from him at first.

He'll figure that them isolating themselves in their bedroom every so often when they get home is just a way for them to self soothe themselves from irritating coworkers and frustrating clients. He understands so be doesn't push and goes on his way though he might try to join them but if they seem a bit too irritated with him he'll back off.

Aventurine is observant though and will pick up on how their behavior worsens day by day with them isolating themselves more often than not as well as how their shoulders sag when they think they're alone making them look smaller.

He does a bit of digging to try and figure out just what is making the love of his life so upset. But he finds it even more suspicious that he finds nothing wrong with their life. Their boss isn't mistreating them, they're eating their meals(perhaps a little more than usual but hey if you're hungry you're hungry), they sleep(much more than usual but it makes sense they work late hours) and they do greet him when he comes home(though they have been avoiding his hugs around their belly lately).

But it clicks in his head eating more, sleeping more, rejecting his hugs around their belly...just the possibility of them being pregnant leaves him feeling dizzy, giddy, yet also melancholic at the same time. So he does a little research on beta pregnancies and the more he reads the more things match up the stronger those feelings become.

Later that day when he finds his beta he'll let them know he's aware of their pregnancy and that while he's sad they hid it from him he's happy. He'll spend his time reassuring his beta that he does want them and that he wants their pups too. He doesn't know if he'd be a good father but he'd try.

Blade

His schedule is practically nonexistent one month he'll be free of work and then the next six he'll be working nonstop so it's very likely he wouldn't notice his beta mates behavior change unless it was during some of his off times. The other Stellaron Hunters, if they spend any amount of time with his mate, may notice but if they don't they won't be much help in him figuring out his mate is pregnant. There's also whether or not his beta mate is also a Stellaron Hunter or not or just a civilian living their life separate from them.

So out of all of these men Blade would likely not figure out his beta mate was pregnant unless he or his coworkers are around the to notice their changes or until they were far enough in the pregnancy to start showing when he meets them again.

If he's around them for a while and he notices their change of behavior and eating habits he will ask them right away if something is wrong and will call their lie if they try to say it's nothing. He'll out right ask if they're pregnant if they say they aren't sick and or injured as that's really the only other thing he could think of that could make them behave so differently.

Honestly surprised when they go quiet and just nod their head when he asks them again. He never planned to be a father, well he certainly never planned to have a mate either so he's more than shocked to say the least. A part of him is happy but a part of him is also just melancholic.

Will just hold his mate in his arms for a while as everything sinks in and they try to calm down. If his mate wants to keep the baby he won't object but he truly doesn't know how to be a father though he will do his best to support them.

Jing Yuan

Another one that is often too busy but unlike Aventurine he notices them distancing themselves from him much faster. At first he'll believe that they might just be having an off day so he doesn't press it but when he notices it happening more often than not that's when he steps in and confronts them.

He'll ask them if they've been alright and if there's anything they might be worried about and that they can come to him. He almost gets them to talk because he's so nonjudgmental and willing to hear them out but they back out because of their own worries. He doesn't press it again but makes note that they're hiding something from him that obviously makes them hesitant.

His first thought to their hesitation is that they might be in danger of some sorts and does some investigating just to make sure that's not the case as their safety is his priority. But his thoughts change when he notices them getting a little ill around certain smells and eating large meals less but snacking more while they hide out in the quietest part of the garden of their home.

Now he's not one to jump to conclusions so fast so instead he asks Lady Bailu about their behavior and symptoms and she pretty much confirms they're pregnant right then and there though she will have to perform an examination just to be sure and sends him on his way telling him to brew them some ginger tea to soothe their upset stomach.

Jing Yuan brews the tea and offers it to them with a light snack letting them know that he's aware they may be pregnant and that while he's a little saddened they felt the need to hide such a thing from him he's more than happy to have pups with them. Spends the next few hours just comforting and cuddling his mate until they've calmed down and they tell him they'll see Lady Bailu tomorrow for an official exam.

Dan Heng

Out of everyone he'd know his mate is pregnant the fastest as he doesn't exactly leave his beta mates side once they become mates. He and his mate aren't separated for missions or anything unless they absolutely have to be so he'll know if they start acting weird.

Does give his mate some privacy when they want some alone time but does become suspicious he might have done something wrong since they keep avoiding him. It frustrates him but he lets them do it.

Looks up some data from the archives about Beta behaviors just so he can confirm if he's doing something wrong to upset them. He doesn't think about if the section about Beta pregnancy behaviors will be useful to their situation but he reads it anyways for future reference. But the more he reads the more and more things start to make sense and he is silently jumping for joy while simultaneously screaming into the void because this shouldn't be even possible in the first place.

While Vidyadharas can certainly have dynamics like most other races they're pretty much infertile as there are no records of their kind producing offspring within their own race or outside. And while his mind does jump to the possibility that his mate might have gotten pregnant by someone else he pushes that idea out of his head because he's been by their side consistently and he knows they wouldn't cheat on him.

He's pretty overwhelmed by the possibility but does his best to calmly ask his mate if they are pregnant and reassures them that he's not mad or anything just worried and even scared for them and their pup. Encourages his mate to see Lady Bailu just to confirm everything and to ensure they do have a smooth pregnancy should they decide to keep the pup.

[hongjoongspoetry]

LET'S GO, BABY! A FIC FOR MY BIAS MADE BY THE ONE AND ONLY ARI??? Life is looking bright again, the grass is greener, and it’s raining money—Okay, so I was actually going to read your Yunho stories first, buuuuut I couldn’t hold back, and you can’t blame me. Hongjoong’s my bias, what was I supposed to do?

Anyways, I don’t even know where to start. Whenever I read something new of yours, it feels like you outdo your previous work, which is crazy because I always think, “This is it, this is the story!” But then you go ahead and prove me wrong by creating a new masterpiece that won’t leave my head for an X amount of time.

Both the MC and Hongjoong were really interesting characters in this story and for a good chunk into the fic, I didn't know what to think about Hongjoong. He was quite annoying in the beginning with his "know it all" talk and I feel like his attempt at cheering up the MC was so poorly done on his part, like what was he thinking talking sweet to her when another douchebag was already getting on her nerves? 😭

“Don’t we all wish to have a piece of the pretty barista?”

It wasn't even anything remotely nice, he literally talked about her as if she was an object. what is this shitshow of a man? 👹 I also like how you made his appearance give a hint of "I'm a mysterious guy" but he still turned out to be a douche. I feel like in most stories nowadays, the mysterious character is almost always flawless or perfect. They never get to fuck up.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the guy reached for his Cosmo, your fingers brushing together since you hadn’t retracted your hand yet. You ignored how warm his fingers felt, the softness of them as they lightly brushed against yours, “It’s just sad to see talented people waste their lives away in places like this one, you know? I mean, we all go to college to make something of ourselves, but then we end up in a dimly lit and smelly bar, selling alcohol to entitled pricks, forced to listen to their attempts at flirting, or them berating us for ‘not’ doing our job. Sure, it’s honest work, but at the end of the day, when you walk home after an ungodly long shift, you still hate yourself, so…”

Oh, this shit got me fucked up. Lord knows I would've lost my job that night if a customer ever talked to me in that way. Matter of fact, I'd be put on a blacklist and be unemployed for the rest of my life because not only would I jump over the counter, but I'd beat the shit out of him until he wouldn't know the simplicity of the alphabet. And although this made me furious and angry at Hongjoong's character, I still love how you made him into an entitled prick 😭 Like yes, give me something else than the woke artist who thinks good of everyone. Give me a douchebag who wears a million bucks and gives his honest opinion about others, without thinking if he's going to get his ass beaten to a pulp.

“Hey, yesterday…what I said at the bar, I didn’t mean to berate you.” The guy gulped, his eyebrows furrowing as you looked back at him, slightly taken aback to see such sincerity on his face. You’ve never met someone so easily readable before, “My intention wasn’t to hurt you, I was smoked out too so I was just running my mouth, I do that when I’m high, sorry…”

While I love to drag out on the angst, I really enjoyed his apology. It wasn't anything grand, just him owning up to his mistakes and taking responsibility. It makes the story feel a little more like real life, just two adults talking it out.

The guy hummed, a smile slowly appearing on his lips before he took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes boring into yours again, “I’m glad the pretty barista doesn’t hate my guts anymore.”

THE WAY I SCREAMED, LIKE FUUUUUCK!?!?!?!? WE GOT MULLET!JOONG CALLING ME A PRETTY BARISTA?????? THAT's ANOTHER THING — WE GOT MULLET JOONG BACK!!?! He can psycho analazye me all he wants baby- *GUNSHOT*

Ahem... Anyways!

“Humans are easily susceptible, you know? We judge without knowing first, and we rarely apologise and recognise our mistakes. I hate people like that, rude people for no reason too. I don’t stand for all that bullshit, so I’m glad you told me to fuck myself instead of smiling at me like you do with all the other assholes. I appreciate your hard work, we all have to make due somehow and you aren’t less for working in this pub, pretty barista.”

Man, this lil dude really loves running his mouth, doesn't he? Like NO ONE ASKED what you think of people. WHY IS HE LIKE THAT????? But at the same time, I LOVE HIS JOONG VERS. YOU'VE CREATED?!!? He's not plain and boring and all nice, he actually has some color on his canvas.

It's crazy how they haven't exchanged names until much later into the story :0 That's another thing that makes this story so real, their interactions aren't long enough for them to just stop and ask for each other's names, but they aren't that short to not have grown into some form of acquaintances.

“Pretty barista from the pub!”

HE'S SO SMOOTH AND SHAMELESS WITH IT OMG. If a man (hongjoong) would call me that every time we saw each other, I'd be giggling like Lisa Simpsons, WHICH REMINDS ME. WHY IS THIS (0:34) LITERALLY THROUGH YOUR COLORS HONGJOONG?????

“Sorry, I saw you’re buying The Hobbit. It’s a pretty famous reprint, the covers are gorgeous, my best friend is collecting them so I assumed you are too.”

Is this said best friend perhaps Park Seonghwa? 👀

“We can’t smoke weed with closed windows, so it’ll get colder.” Hongjoong suddenly explained, shrugging on a cardigan that looked very soft, “Wear my hoodie, it’ll keep you warm.”

I would call her out for following a stranger home and getting high on his weed, but he gave her his hoodie 🥹🥹 (the bar is in hell, is it not?)

The scene where Hongjoong and MC talk about their "dreams" /goals is so... nice and so real (again). How Hongjoong won't give his art to just anyone mirrors his irl personality too; how they value their works (songs and paintings) and just how much effort is put into it. We can clearly see the moment he "fell" in love with the MC. It wasn't the first night when she served him a Cosmopolitan or when she called him out on his bullshit, no that just caught his attention. The moment he knew MC was the possible one for him was when she saw him through his paintings. The MC subconsciously showed that she could see beyond Hongjoong's exterior and actually understand his soul. It's quite intimate, at least to me it felt like an intimate scene filled with a lot of emotions and to be frank, it's the best type of intimacy I've read in a while.

And perhaps not just in the city, but also in foreign countries while you attended Hongjoong’s art expositions, an expensive bottle of wine waiting for the two of you back at the hotel.

I always say this, but it won't become less of a truth the more times I repeat myself: Your writing is one of a kind. Both your creativity and the ability to come up with amazing ideas that makes the reader yearn for more, and your writing style that gets better and better with each fic/story you publish. You really outdo yourself Ari and I can't wait to see your next project 🩷

Through your colours

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: artist!Kim Hongjoong x barista!reader

੭ Warning: recreational drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, swearing ੭ Word count: 11k ੭ Rating: nc-17 ੭ Genre: fluff, angst-ish, slice of life, strangers to lovers, a hint of simp Joong? post university setting ੭ Summary: A broke barista and a broke artist meet in a student infested dingy pub, what do they have in common? The desire to make something great of themselves, to live a fulfilled life. But first impressions can go wrong, deterring people from each other. You're probably lucky that's not how your story with Hongjoong goes, though.

A/N: Hello, hello, my lovelies! I present you another story that was supposed to be a drabble but instead turned into...a smaller oneshot?? I consider anything that's below 15k a drabble because my oneshots just go over 20k all the time, save me! This idea came on a random whim while my pinterest suggested three photos lol, and it took me some time to write it, but it's here at last. Your feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you thought of this little story, and I hope you enjoy it! divider

            Gustav Klimt had once, sometime during the nineteenth century, stated that, “Art is a line around your thoughts”. This could be interpreted many ways, of course, but for an artist it was just as plain and simple as Mr Klimt had said. Whatever was on your mind, you could give it life by putting it on a piece of paper by the brush of ink and feather against the parchment, or by the swift twist of one’s wrist as their brush coloured their canvas. Art comes in many forms, many thoughts, and many interpretations. After all, everyone relates to it based by their own experiences, based on the emotions they feel and have felt before…and overall, their capacity of seeing beyond what’s shoved in front of their eyes. Maybe that’s why Hongjoong would stare at a painting or picture for hours on end without growing tired. He liked to see everything, he wanted to understand every stroke of brush, or why the lightning fell in that specific way on the item in the picture. Hongjoong wanted to feel the same emotions the author of the creation had felt while creating their piece. It helped him draw inspiration, expand his horizons towards new possibilities. Hongjoong liked new challenges as long as they were about his art. In life, he preferred the steady and sure lifestyle, the one that was predictable enough that it wouldn’t send him into an existential crisis over the smallest inconvenience.

Hongjoong needed order in his life since his art was all over the place, judged by many and often misunderstood. He didn’t paint just for the fun of it, sure, there were passion projects he started on a whim without much of a goal in mind, and usually those were well received by his professors, by his colleagues. But whenever Hongjoong wanted to say something through his art, he’d get scrutinized for it. He yet had to find that one person that saw beyond what others called a mess. He’s never thrived for attention or validation, but it had gotten lonely after a while when he realised nobody really understood him. He felt like he was the odd one even in a crowd full of odd people. He’d always been different, more open-minded and receptive to the changes in the world, and he’d always been judged for it. Here, instead of being frowned upon due to his character, he was sometimes ignored because his art was either dull or not good enough. Nobody seemed to understand that art is relative and subjective, that whatever lay on the canvas made by Hongjoong was his and would always be. That he had dipped his brush into a touch of colour from his soul, displaying it for the world to see on the once blank canvas. He became vulnerable for them and yet nobody had appreciated it yet. And so, Hongjoong got used to not being seen for his art, but for who he was.

Quirky with questionable fashion taste to many, bold because he wasn’t afraid to try out new styles—much like with his paintings—and intimidating because no matter how many times he tried out something new, he’d instantly make it his, owning whatever concept he had in mind. Hongjoong knew not everyone was against him out there, but it was easy to fall hostage to such thoughts when he was alone. It would make sense for an artist to have a mind clouded by questions and rarely answers, a mind that worked too fast and yet never good enough. Doubts and fears pulling one down, Hongjoong loved expressing it through his paintings, his hand nothing but a guide to the brush clutched tightly between his fingers, calling out to him even when he chose to step away. Hongjoong was in it for life, and he wondered whether the weeping willow tree by the river bank in his framed painting was a premonition for how his life would look like.

            The bar was busy like every other night in this student-infested town. It wasn’t even a surprise anymore, you should have known better than to wear your boots with high heels. There were no seconds to waste and even less time for breaks between preparing drinks, cleaning the bar, and running around the room to clean the tables too. Nobody wanted their hands sticky because someone had previously spilt their drink, and you were more than ready to clock out for the night. The only problem was, however, that you still had three hours left of your shift. You sighed as you averted your eyes from the clock, realising you hadn’t started preparing the drink the drunk college student had asked for on the other side of the bar. His eyes were glossy and he was swaying in his spot, you debated filling his cup with water rather than Vodka, but you couldn’t risk getting a complaint since your boss was a stinky little fucker. Your hands worked fast, and years spent doing this kind of work were showing as you did a few tricks, hoping you’d get a nice tip. You doubted the college guy would leave a huge tip, if anything at all, but at least you tried. It was all about trying in places like this one. Trying to stay calm when a customer was rude, trying to remain sane when night after night the DJ played the same playlist for the drunken students, trying to smile and hide the fact that you hated when these frat boys flirted with you. And also try and hide the fact that you were fed up with people, and needed at least a month away from civilisation.

But if one wanted to achieve something in life, one had to work for it to happen since it wouldn’t fall from the sky. Going abroad and starting a new life over there wasn’t for free, and it especially wouldn’t happen overnight. You were well aware of that, that’s why you were working day and night, taking up shifts that were probably too long to be healthy. But the dream you had in mind demanded such sacrifices, and if it meant working hard right now for a comfortable life in the future, you were willing to spend your nights sleepless and surrounded by annoying college students. You had been like them once, after all, but that was a few years ago, and since then, the harsh reality has awoken you. What was the purpose of a degree you couldn’t do anything with? Yeah, you could’ve laughed at yourself, but then it would soon turn into hysterical crying and you weren’t strong enough to deal with such emotions. You’ve cried enough, it was time you took action now. You sighed as another rush of bodies crowded the bar, asking for shots and long cocktails. You weren’t a fancy place by any means, but you served the usual sweet cocktails that could be found in every other place. Your hands worked fast as you catered to everyone’s likes, your coworker, Hanni, was somewhere lost between the students as she had gone to clean up the tables. And even in your rush, it seemed like you couldn’t satisfy everyone. It shouldn’t have phased you, but you’ve had a rough day today.

“Hey, babe, think you could work those hands faster, maybe?” You ignored the question and smiled as a group of girls paid for their pink cocktails, leaving a bigger tip than most men would. You felt grateful and felt your smile turn genuine when the tallest in the group winked at you before they became part of the rowdy crowd again. Then, you could face your impatient customer. He didn’t look like a student, way too old to be in a crowd filled with students, but who were you to judge? Some people go to college at a later age, maybe he wanted to get the full student experience. Although, you doubted a thirty-year-old had anything in common with young adults on the brink of maturing, if they managed to mature during their upper-level study days.

“What can I get for you?” Your voice was raised since the music was booming, and unfortunately, you also had to lean over the counter to hear the man better. For some reason, that made the man smirk as he leaned forward as well, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat. You ignored it as your teeth ground together, you’ve seen men like him before, he wasn’t the first to act like this and you knew he wouldn’t be the last one either.

“How about…you, sugar?” Your expression didn’t budge as his smirk became shit eating as if he had accomplished anything by saying that. You waited, without blinking or reacting to what he’s said, hoping he’d catch on that he wasn’t hilarious nor flirty.

“Don’t we all wish to have a piece of the pretty barista?” That managed to throw you off as your head whipped to the side, eyebrows furrowing as you just now noticed the newcomer. He was…well, something else for sure. He wore no casual or ordinary clothes, nothing you could compare to the annoying frat boys or just the other dudes with a regular fashion sense. His hair was dark but it looked a little fried, as if it had been bleached already one too many times before. His white blouse was loose and tucked in at the waist, his black pants wide and reaching below his ankles. A thick belt was secured around the guy’s petit waist, and if you looked harder, you swore you could see a dark blue bow tied to it. His brown vest seemed to elevate the outfit even more, the pleated brown choker sitting at the base of his throat with a few other silver chains, a ruby pendant hitting his pecks as he was leaning against the counter lazily. His hip was jutted out and his painted nails tapped against the side of his head, cat-like eyes blinking slowly as he watched you. The hat he wore looked something like you’ve only seen in Peaky Blinders, and for a second, you almost chuckled. He looked peculiar but not in a negative sense, it’s just that you haven’t seen someone like him stumble inside the pub before. He didn’t seem to belong with the crowd and that would’ve been something you’d appreciate on any other day than today.

“I don’t think we were talking to you, no?” The cocky man in front of you raised a mocking eyebrow at the other guy, and you rolled your eyes for a second. But before you could answer, the other guy did for you.

“You threatened my game is better than yours?” The artsy-looking guy asked with a chuckle, his tone was more on the higher side, and you found yourself not irked by it too much. But you weren’t here to have men measure their cocks by who can get the barista’s phone number faster, so you interrupted them before they could piss you off even more.

“Listen, fellas, I don’t have all night. What do you want?” Your tone was sharp, straight to the point, and shut down all attempts at flirting as the man in front of you scoffed, shooting a dirty look at the peculiar-looking one. You tilted your head as the older man finally faced you, trying to downplay his irritation as he plastered on a charming smile again. It made your jaw tick again, but you said nothing more.

“Do you have whiskey?” You were already reaching for the bottle of Whiskey before the man was finished talking, your other hand grabbing a glass as Hanni finally returned to the bar, her tray filled with dirty glasses.

“I’ll just wash these and come help.” She said as she passed by you and you nodded, filling the man’s glass with ice and whiskey, not too much but not too little either. Who even drinks Whiskey in a place like this one? But you didn’t care as long as he’d be out of your hair, so you placed the glass on the counter, but before you could tell the guy how much it was, he had already slid a bill on the counter, sauntering away. You grabbed it and pushed it into your fanny pack, taking a step back to take a deep breath. You could do this, Hanni was back and maybe you could ask her to cover for you for five minutes. A bathroom break was allowed at any time, after all. Your small moment, however, was interrupted by a scoff. You blinked your eyes open and looked towards where the sound came from, eyes narrowing when you realised the other guy was still lingering around.

“What a pig, he didn’t even tip you.” You had to agree with his slurred words but instead walked over with an impassive expression. You weren’t here to be nice or to make friends, and you never failed to make it clear to your customers. These entitled dudes thought they could get your number and get in your pants with just a few—fake—nice words, you could confidently say you hated them all and that they made you wish you never again encountered their species. But alas, that wouldn’t happen tonight, so you headed over to the pompous guy, raising an eyebrow. He was intriguing, you couldn’t deny that, but you also knew not to mingle with guys who frequented the pub. So, even if one sparked your interest, at the end of the day, you’d still walk home alone and relish in the quiet of your room.

“What can I get for you?” You tried to keep your tone level as your hip pressed into the counter, feet aching now even more. You were ready to chuck your damn boots at the wall and call it a night, but as Hanni flashed you her typical sweet smile, you knew you couldn’t leave her alone in the wolf's den. She was too sweet and too naïve, smiling and laughing along to the shitty jokes of the frat boys who were eyeing her up with little regard for the fact that she was visibly uncomfortable.

“Something sweet like you.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, telling yourself to keep your cool. He wasn’t saying anything offensive, unlike many other men, he just kept calling you sweet and pretty. That could be considered even nice, but not tonight.

“The menu is literally behind me, you can choose anything from it.” You pointed a finger behind yourself, where you knew the menu was hung high on the wall so that everyone could see it. The peculiar guy just gave you a look of confusion before looking past you, blinking his eyes lazily once again. You tapped your fingers against the counter, waiting for his choice, glad that you could take a breather now that nobody was crowding to get their drinks refilled. Hanni whizzed past you when she noticed a smaller group of girls approaching, her smile reaching her ears and already talking to them, beckoning them closer. Hanni was an excellent barista, she kept her customers entertained and always engaged with them…unlike you, but that’s why your duo worked so well. You were the stoic one and she was the sunshine, but you were both quick on your feet so your boss couldn’t complain.

“Uh, I’ll take a Cosmopolitan.” The guy finally decided and you quirked an eyebrow, grabbing the shaker.

“That’s not sweet.” It was unlike you to make conversation, but the words were on the tip of your tongue so you couldn’t ignore them. The guy chuckled, letting his elbows rest on the counter as he placed his chin in his palms. Your eyes raised for a second to look at him, and you were taken aback by how cute he looked. But as he blinked slowly again, a small smile spreading onto his lips as he watched you, you quickly focused your attention on his Cosmo.

“I know, I was just trying to make you feel better.” He sighed, tracing a manicured finger against the dirty counter. You had to clean that too. As you grabbed some olive to stash on a toothpick, you followed his finger with your eyes and noticed the two silver and shiny rings on his finger, his nail done a neon yellow with a black smiley face painted on top of it.

“What do you even know…” You scoffed to yourself, placing the martini glass on the counter for the guy to take. He was still looking at you, his eyes hazy, and you allowed yourself to take in his features. He had a petite and sharp nose, pretty and well-fitting with his sharp jawline and otherwise intimidating eyes if it wasn’t for the smile in them. His lips were more plump than thin with a pretty Cupid’s bow, slightly pouty as he gave you a small frown.

“Well, I bet you don’t plan on wasting your life away here.” The way he spoke had an airy feel to it, as if he wasn’t really thinking before speaking, “And by the looks of it, it seems as if your degree didn’t take you too far as of now, which is not a big deal, people change their minds all the time.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as the guy reached for his Cosmo, your fingers brushing together since you hadn’t retracted your hand yet. You ignored how warm his fingers felt, the softness of them as they lightly brushed against yours, “It’s just sad to see talented people waste their lives away in places like this one, you know? I mean, we all go to college to make something of ourselves, but then we end up in a dimly lit and smelly bar, selling alcohol to entitled pricks, forced to listen to their attempts at flirting, or them berating us for ‘not’ doing our job. Sure, it’s honest work, but at the end of the day, when you walk home after an ungodly long shift, you still hate yourself, so…”

Something in you broke at his last sentence, making you gulp hard. You still hate yourself, the guy had said with the most easy-going expression on his face, a slight smile pulling at his lips as he continued to blink lazily at you. What did he even know when he was clearly wearing designer clothes to a pub where alcohol could be spilt on you, among many other things? Who was he to assume you couldn’t do anything with your degree, rubbing it in your face that he knew people ended up like this when he clearly came from a rich background with all those accessories on him, his tone airy and almost mocking. Your jaw clenched again as you realised you had tears in your eyes, and your hand came down harshly on the counter as the guy slipped a bill towards you, way over the price of his damn Cosmopolitan.

“Go fuck yourself.” You snapped as you threw the change back at him, watching his expression fall, his eyebrows raising comically high. You didn’t sit around to listen to him trying to get your attention again, you brushed past Hanni and leaned down to tell her that you needed five minutes. She gave you a worried look before nodding, letting you head to the bathroom as a few tears spilt down your cheeks. Today was complete shit, you couldn’t wait to get home and ignore all the responsibilities and problems you had. You were doing this for a better future, this was just a small fragment of your life, and it wouldn’t last forever. At least you really hoped so.

            You released a long sigh as the cool air hit your face, eyes stinging from the sudden coldness as the red backdoor slammed shut behind you. Hanni and you kept telling your boss to change the hinges, but he had more important things to take care of, of course. Stepping aside so that the door wouldn’t slam into your back if any staff member decided to come outside at this moment, you leaned against the cold wall, pushing your hands into your pockets. You didn’t bother grabbing your jacket, although you should have given the fact that your skin was now covered in goosebumps, teeth slightly chattering. It was always a whiplash coming outside from that parched pub, having to forcefully push through the bodies too busy to notice your approaching form. It was another busy night, the weekend was approaching so the students were coming in waves that the pub could barely house. You’ve been telling your boss that you should put a capacity limit, but he wouldn’t make as much money like that as he was making now, so of course, he said no. He was a greedy monster and he didn’t even try to hide it.

Just as you closed your eyes, you heard a loud tsk followed by a hiss, and your head jerked to the side, your eyes widening. You hadn’t realised there was someone else here with you, too taken by your own thoughts of wondering what you’d cook for dinner…if you make it home at a decent hour, which was looking less and less likely to be. With your eyes narrowed and head turned, you tried to find the source where the sound had come from, eyebrows furrowing when you noticed someone crouched down right by the door, their head lowered over their knees. It wasn’t your business what anyone was doing, really, but if a client was feeling unwell and would need assistance, you’d feel guilty if you just walked away without a word. So, sighing to yourself, you pushed off the wall and took a few steps to approach the person, eyes taking in the black messy curls on the top of his head. The person had a baby mullet growing out, framing his pale nape. You cleared your throat and reached down, gently poking at the guy’s shoulder.

“Hey, you good?” You asked unsure, eyebrows furrowing when the guy grunted only. Tilting your head, you realised he was shielding his left hand, his right thumb trying to roll the sparkwheel of his lighter, but to no avail.

“Yeah, this bloody thing won’t work.” The guy groaned, shaking his lighter as he tilted his head back, a hand-rolled cigarette hanging between his lips. Your eyes widened as you realised the face was familiar, having seen him just yesterday. The guy’s eyes looked innocent as they rounded, recognition flashing in his too. You gulped and straightened up, your expression slightly hardening as the guy’s harsh words from yesterday rang through your ears. He seemed pretty fine to you, but before you could step aside and go back inside, he spoke up.

“Hi there, pretty barista.” He then grinned, a lazy pull of his cherry-red lips, his tone easy. You didn’t expect him to be so easy-going after what you had said to him, but it almost looked like the guy wasn’t bothered by you cursing him out…maybe he really wasn’t, “You on a break?”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, watching as he struggled to get his lighter to work. You had one in your pocket, but you found a bit of satisfaction in watching him struggle. Maybe if he asked whether you had one, you’d let him use yours. But people who didn’t ask wouldn’t get help, that’s what your father taught you, at least.

“Obviously.” You muttered matter of fact as the guy hummed, grinning wickedly when the lighter finally sparked to life, allowing him to light his cigarette. You watched as the flame danced in front of his face, making his dark eyes appear amber-like, sharper from this angle. You realised, alarmed, that you were appreciating his looks so you quickly stopped, looking away as the guy puffed out a whiff of smoke.

“You want some?” The guy asked, reaching his hand toward you as you eyed the cigarette, its smell hitting you. It was too herbal to be a normal cigarette, you belatedly realised as you watched the guy take another hit of his joint.

“What’s in it?” You decided to ask, just to make sure. If you were wrong and it was a regular cigarette, maybe you’d accept a smoke. You didn’t usually smoke but you were still tired from yesterday’s shift, and something that could loosen your nerves would be highly appreciated.

“Good stuff.” The guy grinned, giggling even a little, and the sound almost put a smile on your lips, but you caught yourself in time and instead shook your head, pushing your hands into your pockets again.

“I’m working, so, no.” The guy just hummed as he looked up at you again, taking a drag of his joint as you gulped and everted your eyes. It felt like he was gazing right through you and into your soul as your eyes had met, and given the fact that you were still butt-hurt over what he had said to you yesterday, you refused to look at him too long…you’d only admire his beauty, either way. He wore a fuzzy yellow and pink sweater today, his brown dress pants looking way too thin for this weather, but the guy didn’t seem to mind. His nails stood out with their unique design, and he wore fewer rings today but more earrings than yesterday.

“Hey, yesterday…what I said at the bar, I didn’t mean to berate you.” The guy gulped, his eyebrows furrowing as you looked back at him, slightly taken aback to see such sincerity on his face. You’ve never met someone so easily readable before, “My intention wasn’t to hurt you, I was smoked out too so I was just running my mouth, I do that when I’m high, sorry…”

A beat of silence passed as the two of you shared an apprehensive look, making you bite your bottom lip. You cleared your throat and at last averted your eyes, kicking a few pebbles towards the guy without meaning to, “Right, I shouldn’t have cursed you out either…I’m sorry too, I guess.”

The guy hummed, a smile slowly appearing on his lips before he took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes boring into yours again, “I’m glad the pretty barista doesn’t hate my guts anymore.”

You have no idea what took over you, but your cheeks were suddenly flushing as if you had been noticed by your crush for the first time, your skin prickling. You weren’t one to care about the compliments your clients gave since most of them were only trying to get in your pants, but this guy seemed to be genuine. He didn’t try to hit on you, he was just calling you pretty, and it was getting to you. You hummed and turned towards the door, hand reaching out for the knob when suddenly the guy spoke again, “Humans are easily susceptible, you know? We judge without knowing first, and we rarely apologise and recognise our mistakes. I hate people like that, rude people for no reason too. I don’t stand for all that bullshit, so I’m glad you told me to fuck myself instead of smiling at me like you do with all the other assholes. I appreciate your hard work, we all have to make due somehow and you aren’t less for working in this pub, pretty barista.”

There he was again, making your chest feel heavy as you huffed, a sarcastic smile pulling at your lips. Once again, what did he know about you? Maybe you loved this damned job, maybe being a barista in a shitty pub has been your lifelong dream. You almost scoffed at yourself, eyes narrowing as the guy took more drags of his joint, seemingly waiting for an answer that you didn’t exactly want to give. But you didn’t want him to have the last word, much like yesterday, so you plastered on a sarcastic smirk, “There you go again, blabbering your mouth when you’re smoked out.”

You didn’t expect the guy to start laughing loudly, his head falling back as it landed against the wall, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You didn’t mean to gape, but he was beautiful and painfully honest, it was refreshing in a world full of fakeness. He was an intriguing person, and you would’ve allowed yourself to become interested in him if only you had met in a different setting. With a hum and lingering eyes, you pushed the door open as the guy nodded at you in goodbye once he realised you were leaving for good. And with a faster beating heart, you willed yourself to focus on the few hours that you still had of your shift.

            It’s been quite a while since you had the chance to wake up at the crack of dawn without feeling tired, or without having to rush in for an early shift. Through hard work, you had earned these two days of break, and while you wished you had been given a full week, you made sure to utilise these two days wisely. You had always been an early bird, wishing to wake with the sun, opening your windows to hear the song of the birds, but it was too cold for them to hunker down in front of your window today. You didn’t mind, you’d take a stroll after your breakfast and check out the new art store that’s opened not too far from your apartment. You’ve heard great things about it, the prices seemed to be reasonable, and it had an adjoint bookstore and a coffee shop as well. A quick check on the internet showed you just how cozy it was, so you thought you could buy a book from your to read list and settle down in the coffee shop. It sounded like a great plan to destress and forget for a bit about work and all the idiots that kept you up at night, quite literally.

Your scarf was thick as you buried your nose into it, trying to keep it warm from the cold chill of the early morning. The city was awake with you, orange sun rising on the horizon and blinding you as you were walking towards it, you couldn’t help but smile. It warmed your cheeks and body, feeling the sun on your skin during cold season always felt like a blessing, you would always relish in it as much as you could because you knew it wouldn’t last for long. You exhaled as your eyes remained squinted, watching the people around you as you walked towards your destination. Kids were rushing to school, parents by their sides guiding them, and traffic was as crazy as ever, impatient drivers honking and disturbing the little peace everyone had. You paid it no mind and felt thankful that you were able to wake up so early instead of just going to bed, all tired and wishing for your boss to fire you. But if he did fire you, you would be in trouble, so you didn’t actually wish for that to happen. And suddenly as you turned the corner, the guy’s words from the bar managed to ring through your ears once again. Working at the pub was just as much of an honest job as it would’ve been working anywhere else.

You sighed, realising you were thinking about him again. You’ve been doing this a lot lately, letting your mind wander to his peculiar fashion sense and even more peculiar way of thinking. He seemed almost raw with his words and thoughts, unafraid to say them to your face. It was refreshing and intriguing, but you couldn’t let yourself be sidetracked right now. You had a purpose, and that was working until you had enough money to move away. If somehow a guy came into the picture right now, you felt like that would mess up all your plans and vision of the future. Under no circumstance would you stay here, but you knew your heart would betray you and try to keep you here for longer, with your lover. You didn’t even want to think of the guy as a potential love interest, you didn’t even know each other, so you shoved these thoughts to the back of your mind as you reached the art store, eyes widening at its exterior.

You haven’t seen anything quite like it before, the windows reached from ceiling to floor, a clear view of what was going on inside. There was a spiral staircase that led to the higher level which was littered with bookcases and low hanging retro chandeliers, bean bags spaced out on the floor as people sat around with books in their hands. To the right was the coffee shop with a separate entrance if you were only here for coffee, but you could also enter through the art store. And the art store was gorgeous as you made your way inside, the double doors opening easily. A sweet scent hit your nostrils as you walked further inside, your eyes wide as you took in the whole place. Paintings were hung on the walls, blank canvas placed underneath as many shelves housed all kinds of art supplies. The clerks were all smiley and they welcomed you warmly once they noticed your arrival. Maybe you could find a nicer workplace, something like this one. The workload seemed less strenuous and the people that came here to shop were less rowdy and rude. As much as you loved admiring the fine arts, you didn’t have the talent for drawing or painting, you could mess up even something as simple as a cloud. It was embarrassing, but arts have never been your forte, so you headed for the staircase to look for the book you had on your mind.

Navigating around the many shelves seemed a bit intimidating at first, but then you noticed they were sectioned on different genres, the tags hanging low from the ceiling with an arrow pointing towards the section to help you out. You smiled to yourself as you unrolled your scarf from around your neck, the warmth of the store helping your frozen fingers as you turned down a corner, two tall bookshelves on your sides. At the end of the row sat a younger girl with a manga in her hand, another one pressed to her lips as she seemed to be giggling. You felt yourself smile as you came near her, looking at the titles of the books. Asking for a clerk to help you find the book you were looking for would’ve helped enormously, but you found yourself wanting to stroll around in the warmth, fingers grazing the spines of the books. The girl giggled just a bit louder and blushed when you glanced her way. This wasn’t a library, so she wasn’t disturbing anyone, but she was still mindful of those around her. You turned the corner once again, finding the High Fantasy section, having made your research beforehand, you knew you were in the right place. It took a bit more cruising down the row to finally find the book you were looking for, and you grinned when you found it, taking it off the shelf.

You thought about strolling around the store more just to discover it further, maybe they had cheap trinkets you could buy. You even thought about paying a visit the coffee shop as well, maybe they had one of your favourite patisserie delicacies. You wouldn’t turn down something sweet right now, you didn’t have a sweet tooth necessarily, but there were days when your cravings got the better of you. With that in mind, you headed back the way you had come, sneaking another glance at the younger girl as she gasped, manga now clutched tightly in both of her hands. You chuckled before you rounded the corner, now back on the main aisle that led to the spiral staircase. You noticed that most people who were inside the store looked to be college students, their outfits mismatched colours and patterns, hair coloured something vibrant as most of them had piercings you never even thought possible before. You really liked their style and found yourself staring at them, blushing when a girl caught you and raised an eyebrow before she smiled. You nodded your head and hurried down the stairs, flustered and a little embarrassed. They oddly reminded you of the guy from the bar, you thought he’d somehow fit right in with the people inside the store. It looked something he’d enjoy, not that you knew anything about him besides that he smoked weed, wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, and had a nice sense of fashion.

You were looking at the hard cover of your book as you got to the base of the staircase, taken by the pretty illustration and completely unaware that someone was headed straight towards you, just as taken by items in his hands as you were by your book. The collision could’ve been avoided if you both had been paying attention to where you were going, but alas, you gasped loudly as you felt a hard body collide into yours, items spilling loudly onto the floor. Your head shoot up, eyes wide as you looked at the equally startled man and—wait, it was the same guy from the bar! You gulped, suddenly feeling nervous as your cheeks burned, but the guy hadn’t noticed you yet as he had crouched down to collect his items off the floor. You felt bad and hoped the expensive palette on the ground hadn’t been broken, so you crouched down too and reached for it to inspect it. The guy still hadn’t quite noticed that it was you out of all people, but as you reached for the same brush, his head raised sharply. Your smile was apologetic as the guy’s eyes widened, recognition flashing on his face. This was the third time you met this week, the sheer coincidence of meeting outside the pub was a bit jarring…especially since you’ve been just thinking about him.

“Pretty barista from the pub!” He motioned towards you then chuckled, letting you pick up the brush. Your book was placed on the ground next to you so your hands were free to help.

“Hi,” Your voice came out a lot shier than you had intended it to be, and you chewed on your bottom lip awkwardly, “Sorry about this, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Don’t worry,” The guy chuckled, scooping up the small canvases, “I wasn’t either. If it makes you feel better, it was both of our faults.”

You hummed and grabbed the last item off the floor, standing at the same time as the guy. His arms were filled with his items, and you wondered if you handed over the four in your hands how he’d be able to carry everything. Despite the cold weather outside, he was underdressed. He wore a simple turtleneck with a brown knitted vest over it, long flowy plants and mismatched tennis shoes. As you both stepped aside from the staircase to make way for others, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes once you realised you were staring again. But you hadn’t seen him wearing glasses before, and with the curly strands falling over his forehead, he didn’t only look handsome but cute as well.

“What brings you here?” The guy made conversation as you tried to figure out how to hand him his items without making him drop them all again, “I say this without meaning to be rude, but you seem like the last person who’d be interested in art.”

You huffed, not bothered by his honesty, “While that statement is incorrect, I’m not here due to the art section of the store. I was looking for a book.”

“Right!” He exclaimed, glancing down at his own chest, “Oh, sorry, you can hand me those, I can carry them!”

“Are you sure?” You asked as he nodded enthusiastically, so you complied. You stepped closer to place the other four items in his arms, watching as he clinched the smaller canvas underneath his chin to keep it from falling. You would’ve laughed and offered to help until he got himself a bag or something, but the guy looked pretty content like this. Like it wasn’t his first time doing this…

“Are you collecting them?” The guy’s incomplete question left you raising a confused eyebrow at him, “Sorry, I saw you’re buying The Hobbit. It’s a pretty famous reprint, the covers are gorgeous, my best friend is collecting them so I assumed you are too.”

You glanced down at the book in your hand and bit your bottom lip, trying to brush off your embarrassment. Why were you feeling like this all of a sudden? It made no sense, but you didn’t want to leave a bad impression on the guy…even though his perception of you might already be fucked since this wasn’t your first time meeting.

“I’ve, uh, so, uhm, I have a to read list for books I’ve never read while growing up, so now I have a little tradition that I buy a book from the list each month and read it.” You spoke quickly, avoiding eye contact as the guy listened to your ramble. His intake of breath was sharp and you chanced a glance at his face, finding his eyes wide and his mouth rounded.

“Wait. Are you saying you haven’t read The Hobbit before?!” He sounded incredulous and alarmed, and your cheeks grew hot once again, actually managing to sour your mood a bit. Not having read the book didn’t make you less by any means, but you had a feeling this guy was well-versed in literature, so it felt like a jab and even a subtle scrutinising.

“Yeah, not everyone likes reading while growing up…” Your tone grew cold and voice snappish as you continued to avoid eye contact, looking towards the front desk so that maybe the guy would get the hint that you were done with this conversation. But it didn’t actually surprise you that he continued speaking without noticing you didn’t want to keep conversing anymore.

“That’s totally cool, my brother hated comic books growing up and now he’s obsessed with them.” The guy chuckled, expression innocent and tone genuinely excited, “I think you’ll love the book, it’s filled with adventure and otherworldly creatures. It’s a nice step back from our grim reality, I feel like you need that right now.”

Okay, there he was assuming again that he could just…psychoanalyse you or whatever, “Can you stop doing that? I’m not a painting you can interpret to your liking.”

The guy blinked, face going blank before his cheeks flushed, his gaze averted now from yours, “I…have I been doing it all this time?”

“Ever since we’ve met.” Your answer was sharp and quick and the guy blushed even more.

“Oh, sorry, I just…I’ll stop doing that,” Then he smiled awkwardly and held eye contact with you, “I’m Hongjoong, by the way, I don’t remember introducing myself.”

Because he hadn’t. You repeated his name in your head, finding yourself liking the sound of it, it seemed like a fitting name for him. You hummed, extending your hand.

“I’m Y/N.” But you and Hongjoong glanced down at your extended hand and then his occupied ones at the same time, chuckles leaving your mouths as he seemed flustered.

“I’m shake your hand the next time we see other.”

“If there will be a next time.”

“I quite like the pub you work at, pretty barista.” You cleared your throat and avoided looking at him because as corny as it was, it kind of made your heart flutter. What was happening? The chiming of the doorbell reminded you that it was time you left and took care of other errands you had in your schedule, but before you could say goodbye to Hongjoong, he asked a question that took you off guard, “Wanna grab a cup of coffee with me?”

Then he turned sideways, nodding towards the adjoined café, and you hesitated for a second. You could actually slip in a little time to have coffee with him, but you felt reluctant. You had met him at the pub, after all, and you still couldn’t decide what type of person he was. Of course, he was handsome, and so far, has showed a good character, but there were little moments when he somehow managed to ruin everything with his words. And he was still a complete stranger, so, listening to your rational mind, you slowly shook your head.

“I don’t like coffee, but thanks!” Your smile was easy, Hongjoong’s face morphed into something knowing as he hummed with a nod.

“Sure, I’m glad I caught you here.” Then, as you were about to take off, he added, “The pretty barista now has a name, I can say my morning was successful.”

You tried to huff and look irked, but the blush betrayed you. You just shook your head before heading for the front desk, “Goodbye, Hongjoong.”

“See ya!” His smile was radiant as he turned around and headed for the café instead, and you realised he was underdressed because he had come from the coffee shop, his things already there. And with Hongjoong on your mind, you followed his distinctive walk as he sauntered over to his table with an elegancy yet swagger you hadn’t seen before.

            Now, a week ago you probably would have said no to a preposition that involved you following home a complete stranger whose name you had known for a maximum of four days, but tonight had been literal shit and you were on the verge of tears when Hongjoong had sauntered over to the bar, his Chesire like smile blinding. You had one more hour left of your shift and you’d be clocking out, not even staying behind to help Hani clean up. Your cramps were terrible and a guy who hit on you for the whole night had spilt his drink on your favourite blouse, calling you a bitch as well for shunning him away, so, when you saw Hongjoong approach the bar with mischief in his eyes, you were ready to scream at him and tell him to get lost. Except that you didn’t do all that because his question completely threw you off guard.

“Y/N, do you like art?” He had a rolled-up joint resting at his ear, his hair pulled to the side and clipped back with colourful hair clips. Your laugh that bubbled past your lips sounded incredulous and tired, but you nodded.

“I do, do you want something to drink?” Hongjoong shook his head, leaning across the bar despite it being wet from spilt alcohol.

“When does your shift end?”

“In an hour.”

“Wanna see some of my art?” Then Hongjoong grinned, looking proud of himself, “I’m a painter.”

Something came over you and didn’t even let you ponder over your decision, “Do you have weed?”

The answer was obvious as you glanced at the joint and Hongjoong laughed, tilting his head in a way that sharpened his features under the neon lights of the pub.

“Obviously, got some on me right now. Want some?” Not while you were working, afterwards, however, you were free to do whatever.

“After my shift, yeah.”

“Cool, I’ll meet you in the back. See ya.”

And that’s how you ended up at Hongjoong’s apartment, not even ten minutes away from the pub. Your feet ached and your cramps were so bad you felt like doubling over and emptying your already empty stomach, but you tried to hold yourself together in front of Hongjoong. There was a nervous flutter in your chest as you had followed him up the steel staircase, the building old and dodgy. However, the second you walked inside his studio apartment, it felt like you had entered a different realm. He was the true definition of an artist, you came to realise, with canvas strewn around the apartment, most finished but some blank, oil paint tainting the wooden floor and even the walls. The colours were neutral, beige with a slip of sage green here and there, the curtains sheer and pulled to the side as Hongjoong hurried over to the windows to push them open. There was an earthy smell in the air mixed with something sweet like vanilla, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the cosiness of Hongjoong’s studio. You recognised a few prints on the walls, they were the paintings of well-known painters who no longer lived, and the décor Hongjoong had used was rather vintage than modern. His huge wardrobe was open, and he pushed the door closed with little care as he picked up a hoodie off the floor. You were surprised he even owned one of those.

You flinched when it collided against your head, confused as to why he had thrown it at you. Hongjoong chuckled as he shrugged his coat off, trying to tidy his messy bed but quickly giving up when he realised you didn’t look like you cared. Truthfully, your apartment wasn’t in a better shape, the dishes in the sink had been there for three days and your bathroom was in dire need of a deep clean.

“We can’t smoke weed with closed windows, so it’ll get colder.” Hongjoong suddenly explained, shrugging on a cardigan that looked very soft, “Wear my hoodie, it’ll keep you warm.”

You hummed, glancing down at it before you stepped out of your shoes, shrugging your jacket off and wearing the hoodie. Its scent was sweet but potent with something musky, and you blushed as your nose buried into its fabric, drinking in its soft material.

“Make yourself feel at home!” Hongjoong grinned, walking over to the small kitchen section to grab two cups, “Do you want tea?”

You shook your head as you walked towards the small bean bag, pushing it with your leg to try and get it more gathered together. And then, just as you were about to sink into the chair, you heard a faint sound come from the kitchen. You turned your head and were met with a small black creature blinking at you in wonder.

“You have a cat?” You asked in surprise, staring back at the little pet. Hongjoong chuckled, looking down at his pet as the electric kettle started whistling.

“Is it so surprising? I found him near a dumpster a few years ago, he’s been by my side ever since.” You couldn’t help but gaze at Hongjoong with admiration as he spoke, pouring hot water into his cup for the tea, “His name is Woo ‘cuz he reminds me of my friend. They are both rascals and really loud.”

As if on cue, the cat meowed loudly and you chuckled, finally easing yourself into the bean bag. Your lower back protested and your spine cracked as you allowed yourself to lean back, arching your back. You could’ve cried at the relief, thankful to finally be off your feet. You couldn’t wait for the weed, it would dull your cramps and help you ease up after the day you’ve had. You were probably in dire need of a shower since you smelled like alcohol, but you didn’t feel comfortable showering at a guy’s place you barely knew. Which, now that you thought more about it, realisation started setting in. You weren’t too smart for following Hongjoong home, but he had never creeped you out, so you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt tonight. You stared at the cat as Hongjoong mixed honey into his berry-flavoured tea, the warm mist hogging up his glasses. The cat, still at Hongjoong’s side, stared back at you and then slowly walked towards you, its head tilted in wonder. You smiled at it and let it smell your fingers, taking you off guard when it unceremoniously climbed into your lap, starting to make biscuits against your lower abdomen.

“Ah, of course, you’re already in the lap of the pretty barista.” Hongjoong mused with an amused smile on his lips, “You take after Wooyoung more than one would think.”

You had no idea who this Wooyoung guy was, but it sounded like he was a flirt if Hongjoong wasn’t bluffing.

“I like your apartment,” You blurted out as you started petting the cat, smiling down at it when it started purring, “It’s got character, much like you.”

“That’s the first time you said something completely honest to me.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at Hongjoong, the joint from his ear now gone as he grabbed some matches to light it up. You didn’t think that was true, but you didn’t say anything as Hongjoong came nearer, sitting down on the floor across from you. You looked at him as he took a long whiff of his joint, then extended his arm for you to take the weed. It’s been quite a while since you smoked any, you knew it would hit you faster, but you hoped it wasn’t too strong or you’d become sick. You took a careful drag of it as Woo settled into a slumber in your lap, and the earthy taste of it made you grimace. But you kept the smoke in your lungs for a bit before exhaling, taking another drag as Hongjoong watched you with a lazy smile. He looked so…handsome. You’ve had a few days to yourself to think about Hongjoong after your encounter in the art store, and you realised you were attracted to him. It was mostly physical since you liked his looks, but his brutally honest character also had you intrigued even if you’d get offended at times by what he was saying.

“I find it hilarious that you decided to come home with me after you declined to have coffee.” Your eyes met Hongjoong’s quickly just as you were about to hand over the joint, “Do you really don’t drink coffee? Or did you just want to get rid of me that day?”

“I…” You licked your lips as Hongjoong took the joint from you, grinning as he took a long drag once again, “Both, actually. I just…I don’t know you well enough and we’ve also met at the pub, I don’t like meddling with clients. Those frat boys are horny and only want to sleep with me.”

“Good thing I’m not a frat boy then, right, Woo?” Hongjoong grinned and ruffled the slumbering cat’s fur, looking back at you with an understanding look, “I’ll be done with my master’s degree in just a few months.”

You hummed, picking at the sleeve of Hongjoong’s hoodie before you saw the joint handed to you again, “And after that? What do you plan on doing?”

Suddenly, Hongjoong had a pensive look on his face as he leaned back on his arms, staring up at the ceiling. You took shorter drags of the joint now but kept the smoke in your lungs until it started burning.

“I want to travel the world, visit art galleries and drink a lot of expensive wine.” That didn’t sound bad at all, Hongjoong continued before you could tell him, “It’s hard breaking into the industry as a painter even though some realtors have already approached me to buy my paintings and put them on display.”

“And? What did you say to them?” You felt genuinely curious, the cat sighed loudly in your lap and Hongjoong looked at you two, reaching out for the joint. Your fingertips brushed together and Hongjoong’s hands felt too cold, but you didn’t comment on it.

“I turned them down,” Hongjoong smiled, but it looked almost sad before he shrugged, taking a drag, “I don’t want just anyone owning my creations. I want someone who understands what’s on that canvas to contact me, I want someone who genuinely loves art and isn’t just doing it for the money. It’s hard to find people like that nowadays, but I’m willing to wait as long as it takes…even if that makes me broke.”

Hongjoong scoffed out a chuckle, sounding bitter by the end of his sentence. For someone who was so good at reading others and commenting on their lives, Hongjoong seemed to be having his own demons he had to fight. You hummed, closing your eyes for a second as you felt your muscles ease up, your cramps less torturous. You were glad the weed was slowly kicking in, your cramps would’ve had you crying if not.

“So how do you plan on travelling if you have no money?” Maybe the question was insensitive, but you were curious. Hongjoong didn’t take offence as he smiled, looking at you with sparkling eyes.

“There are art courses all around the world, I might sign up for one and leave, never look back…”

“Do you hate it here?” The question tumbled past your lips before you could stop yourself, “Because I don’t.”

Hongjoong didn’t look surprised as he nodded, handing back the joint so you could finish it. Three drags and it would be gone, so you took your time savouring it.

“It’s not the worst, but I don’t see much of a future for myself here.” So, Hongjoong was just like you then, “When are you leaving?”

“How did you know?” You sounded shocked as Hongjoong shrugged, averting his eyes.

“You and I are rather similar, you just fail to see it, Y/N.” Well, maybe he was right, maybe he wasn’t. You couldn’t read Hongjoong as well as he could read you, you needed more time to feel out his character.

“Six months and I’m out of here, never to come back if life’s kind to me.” Your voice was quiet as you didn’t look at Hongjoong, smoke wafting through your lips as you finished the joint. Hongjoong hummed, a low and warm sound, as he reached for the stud to take it from you. Your fingers brushed together once again, and you looked at Hongjoong when he held your wrist.

“You’re stronger than you think, you’ll make it big out there, Y/N, have more faith in yourself.” You found yourself smiling now, head a little hazy as you nodded, finding it easier to believe whatever Hongjoong told you.

“You’re the artist between the two of us, you’re the one supposed to make it big.” Hongjoong chuckled and stood, headed for the kitchen.

“Can’t we both make it big?” He raised an eyebrow as he threw the stud away, turning around to face you. You hummed, not entirely agreeing with him, but you decided to nod. Then, Hongjoong turned towards where his bed was and grinned, “You’re here to see some art, no?”

“Right, I almost forgot about that.” Hongjoong chuckled, then beckoned you over. You grabbed the cat in your lap and pressed a kiss against its small head, placing it on the bean bag in your spot. Your feet felt light as you headed towards Hongjoong, who had sauntered over to the desk pressed up against the wall underneath the open windows. He turned the small lamp on, and suddenly you were looking at small canvases filled with colour and abstract shapes. Somehow they looked like an organised mess, even in the overflowing swirl of colours, you managed to find a pattern that seemed to never end like a loop. You turned your head to look at Hongjoong, and suddenly you realised his art was a perfect reflection of who he was.

“I can tell you made these.” Perhaps phrasing it like that was offensive, but Hongjoong only looked curious. He hummed, raising an eyebrow.

“How come?” His voice was quiet, curious.

“I can see you in these.” You pointed at the canvas with orange and yellow as the more prominent colours, circling a deep blue that looked almost black, “The blue is you at your core, dark and perhaps scared of the world. And then all that orange and yellow? I think that’s how you see the world, how you wish it treated you, hoping it would lighten all that darkness that looms over you all the time. And this one? I wonder if it was a coincidence you hid so many infinity symbols in the background, this burgundy is gorgeous, by the way. I think everyone is afraid of disappearing without leaving a trace of themselves in this fucked up world, and I actually…I admire you for being so honest and straightforward, very few people are like you.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows were furrowed the longer you spoke, but he remained silent as you smiled, looking down at the white canvas, unfinished but with light blue swirls creating the illusion of a clear sky, “I wonder what this will turn into. So far, it reminds me of serenity, of the calm before a storm. Life’s like that too, don’t you think? It’s quiet and gentle, and then it turns into a scary thing that can destroy us if we let it.”

Hongjoong just gulped, his eyes clouded but his heart racing. He was positive no one had been able to interpret his art for what it was before, and he wondered how much of him you could see through his eyes if you could read so well what the trail of his brush had left on a blank canvas. It made him feel seen like never before, not even his biggest supporter, Wooyoung, could see beyond Hongjoong’s intentions when he sat down to paint, to tell the world his pain and rage, yearning for someone to just finally see him.

“You’re…” Hongjoong gulped, his throat feeling dry as you smiled at him, curious if you’d been right, “You are a person I should cherish more from now on.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, your heart skipping a beat once again. What did he mean by saying that? You wanted to ask, but Hongjoong stepped closer, his tone breathy as he spoke up again, “‘Whoever wants to know something about me – as an artist which alone is significant – they should look attentively at my pictures and there seek to recognize what I am and what I want’…that’s what Gustav Klimt once said. And so far, you are the only person who’s managed to do that.”

Your mouth gaped open, and you both heard Woo stretch and meow loudly, his soft footsteps loud as he walked towards Hongjoong’s bed, jumping up and finding a new spot to sleep. You didn’t know what to say back to that, but you felt your heart race as your cheeks flushed, shy all of a sudden. Hongjoong was looking at you with a softness no man has looked at you with, it was a bit hard to take it all in without freaking yourself out that this wasn’t real, that it was just the weed, or that maybe Hongjoong wasn’t as genuine as his expression showed.

“Y/N,” You didn’t flinch when his hand wrapped around your wrist, his tone still soft, “I think you already know that I find you pretty, and I…I might have gone to that dingy pub for so long just to see you, actually.”

Those words had your heart racing even wilder as you looked up, finding Hongjoong’s face closer to yours as his eyes now bore into yours, “I should’ve been more specific when I asked you to have coffee with me. I meant to ask you out on a date, but I panicked because I knew I had slightly upset you, but…”

He gulped nervously and you felt so curious to hear what more he had to say, perhaps a smile would encourage him, so that’s what you did, offered him a small friendly smile. He released a breath and cleared his throat, his hand slipping from your wrist to your hand, “Can I kiss you?”

If this was anyone else but Hongjoong, your answer would have been an instant no. But the longer you looked into his eyes, the more excited and giddy you felt, so you just nodded your head and licked your lips, trying to ignore the deep flush of your cheeks. Hongjoong chuckled, suddenly looking shy, but he started leaning in, his eyes fluttering closed just as your lips met. It was careful, it was sweet and it made your heart roar as you stepped just a bit closer, your noses brushing together as your lips moved slowly and carefully, mostly just testing out the waters. Hongjoong’s lips were soft and sweet, and surprisingly didn’t taste like weed but like peaches. You wondered if he used any sort of lip balm to have them taste like that. His hand settled on your cheek and he gently caressed your cheekbone with his thumb, making your heart roar once again. It’s been long since someone had treated you with such gentleness, and you told yourself to remain level-headed, but it would be just so easy to fall in love with Hongjoong. You couldn’t help but smile as you two pulled apart, Hongjoong tried to hide his own grin as he sucked his lips together, but his eyes gave him away. You chuckled and he giggled, and suddenly you felt the urge to pull him into a hug.

“So,” He cleared his throat as he let his arms rest around your torso loosely, “If you don’t like coffee, what do you like?”

“Delicious cakes.” You didn’t hesitate to answer and Hongjoong chuckled, patting your head.

“Well then, would you like to go on a delicious cake-hunting date with me?” You closed your eyes to contain your excitement, but the weed had not only eased your muscles but your always worrying mind as well.

“Yes!” You didn’t mean to squeal, but it was hard not to when Hongjoong startled giggling sweetly once again, nodding his head.

“Good, I’ll make sure we find the best spots in the city then.”

And perhaps not just in the city, but also in foreign countries while you attended Hongjoong’s art expositions, an expensive bottle of wine waiting for the two of you back at the hotel.

੭ Masterlist ੭

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[xoxochb]

Sweet girl diary entry!!!!!!! Pls pls pls. Just like, a lil ficlet as if Sweet Girl is writing in her diary. The whole

“dear diary. Today at camp…”

I just wanna find out more abt my baby’s life 🥺

I’ve never wrote something from first person but this is actually soooo criminally cute 🥹🥹

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

dear diary journal,

diary sounds too girly.

well I am a girl. but it sounds too 2000s romcom starring anne hathaway where her love interest his chad michael murray the y2k it boy.

he’s pretty sexy though, I won’t lie. we’ll switch it back to diary tomorrow when I find the motivation to erase and rewrite it.

it’s monday, february third. I hate mondays. but not as much as I hate sundays I freaking HATE sundays with a passion. percy always makes fun of me when I talk about my deep loathing for sundays. so I pull his hair in retaliation. I won’t tell him I half do that just to touch his soft hair because then he’d just make fun of me even more.

this morning it took me 2 whole hours to get out of bed. and it wasn’t necessarily my fault because percy wanted to dilly-dally per usual. and he also bribed me with twenty dollars and the best half an hour long make out session so I think it might’ve been worth it.

but I finally managed to get him out of bed following this. I stayed at his cabin again because I think it’s my new home at this point. we showered— and after ten minutes of trying to keep his hand out from between my legs we dressed and went to lunch because we had skipped breakfast.

and I was sad because I like breakfast. but percy made up for it and made me french toast for lunch. he even put confectionery sugar on it!!!!!!

after I ate lunch I left him and found annabeth. we had an hour long debate over historical arguments it was kinda epic. percy doesn’t like when I say epic he says it makes me sound like a five year old boy. so I say it to make him angry. but I don’t think he could ever be angry with me so I guess I win either way.

I left cabin six around three o’clock and ran into grover and juniper. they were weaving stick bracelets for the younger campers so I helped them for a while. and when I finished I gave all my bracelets to little lucille she’s an angel. she gave me a kiss on the cheek.

after I dropped off the bracelet I went back to cabin three. but percy was fast asleep. and when he’s asleep I’m sure he could be out through an entire war. he doesn’t even have a blanket on— the blue blanket I had bought him specifically because it’s his favorite color.

I managed to retrieve the blanket from beneath him and put it above him. then I joined him in his nap and I think I was out for like two hours to be honest. he was still asleep when I woke up though.

so I laid with him until he woke up just before dinner. unsurprisingly, we skipped it like breakfast. we stayed in bed until eight. or I did at least. I forced percy to get up and get me ice cream, and bring the loving boyfriend he is, he brought me back my favorite peanut butter + oreo ice cream combo. I love him.

I ate it within the next five minutes and then complained to him about being cold. percy is the only person who’ll listen to me complain so I take advantage of it.

he recommended having a ‘special way’ to make me warm. by his smirk alone I knew what he meant. but I would’ve known without seeing him at all, he’s predictable sometimes.

and not to anyone’s surprise, I let him show me his special way. and to say I was warmed up would be an understatement. but I won’t go into details because I’m not my boyfriend— who would, without a second thought go into graphic detail.

and then a half an hour later he crashed. and then that brings me to now. it’s not that I can’t sleep but I’d much rather prefer to have time to catch up on reading for a bit since my day had been busy. but then I saw my journal/diary and got sidetracked so I guess that didn’t really work out.

but overall my day was pretty good!! and… I should probably go to sleep soon because it’s…. I’ll be back in a second.

it’s one thirty two in the morning. off to bed I go!

until tomorrow, xoxo sweet girl.

[mc-cookies]

LONG MOSTLY UNEDITED POST AHEAD! tl;dr Eureka’s devs made the unconventional choice to create an imbalanced, volatile, and deadly tabletop combat system, and it helps make the game really good at telling detective stories. If you’re ever making a game that’s inspired by genre fiction, you shouldn’t be afraid to copy tropes that other games don’t normally use. Also, check out Eureka! It’s incredibly fun to read and play, and a master class in thoughtful game design. Full write up below.

One underrated aspect of @anim-ttrpgs’s Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy that I think tabletop designers should look to for inspiration is the fact that it doesn’t shy away from the conventions of its genre, even if they conflict with the conventional wisdom of how TTRPGs usually work. Eureka wants to be a toolkit for mystery stories in the vein of Agatha Christie-style mystery novels, film noir, or detective TV shows like Columbo and Kolchak, and it’s willing to bend tabletop gaming tradition to do that in a way that seems limiting, but actually increases the potential for compelling and appropriate stories.

The example that made this observation come up for me is the choice to create a crunchy, tactical combat system where guns and explosives absolutely break the power curve. Usually, in games that are heavily opinionated about combat and dangerous situations, the goal is for the player characters to fight with finesse and skill, often growing in power over time, and to that end there are many viable strategies that all scale massively as the players upgrade them. This is a great way to allow for fights that feel balanced, larger than life, and satisfyingly heroic. It’s also not remotely what Eureka does.

Eureka’s combat isn’t meant to emulate a modern action film, a high fantasy adventure, or a shonen anime. It aims to emulate the deadly, fast paced, environmentally driven heightened realism of action scenes in classic film noir, and to do that, it’s brave enough to ask its players to change their expectations about what a crunchy combat system looks like. Combat moves quickly, it’s physically and mentally taxing on the people involved, it’s character driven, and it is supremely dangerous. That’s abstract, but it’s pretty clear from the rules about weaponry: any bullet can incapacitate an average person in one shot, and explosives instantly kill people within their blast radius.

That’s of course not the only thing driving the danger of Eureka’s combat — another fun figure is that it only takes ten good punches or kicks to incapacitate or kill someone — but I think it’s a good way to get at the core of what Eureka tries to do: it forces you to consider what options actually make sense and create opportunities for interesting stories.

Eureka doesn’t want investigators valiantly charging across a battlefield to push up against their assailants or anything, because the stories it tries to produce are very grounded in depicting how unlikely that is to work. (If a character in a vintage noir film gets shot anywhere in their torso or head, they aren’t likely to survive without intensive medical attention, and Eureka is faithful to that!) Eureka wants people to scope out the location to improve their strategy, make smart use of ambushes and weaponry to get an advantage on people who threaten them, and run away or avoid combat if they come across someone they can’t handle.

This extreme volatility massively limits the reliability of characters’ abilities and ensures that far fewer options are available in combat, which seems like it would be less fun, but it’s quite the opposite. The action sequences that Eureka produces are incredibly engaging and fun to play out, because it makes smart use of tried and true tropes to make fights in mystery stories feel compelling and relevant. Heightened realism, danger, and desperation are important to mystery genre fiction, and Eureka seeks to put the players in that headspace. Fights are swift, violent, and often primarily decided by who had better plans and supplies. That’s by design.

There are a lot of great interactions that are enabled by this design philosophy — if a mafia goon pulls aside his jacket to reveal a handgun in his waistband, Eureka encourages the players and characters to take it seriously, because using a gun is seriously raising the stakes! That’s a trope that’s commonly used in all sorts of media, but if guns were easy to deal with, it would make no sense to worry about it. Creating a system that reflects how threatening guns can be in mystery stories and real life is a great way to avoid ludonarrative dissonance and encourage genuine character interactions, and Eureka is oozing with other design tidbits that accomplish similar things. (Hell, half the trait list is basically just there to allow investigators to embody classic genre tropes, and it’s awesome.)

(Deadly weapons in Eureka are balanced by the fact that they and the training needed to use them effectively are often challenging and expensive to get, especially by legal means — which also allows for some interesting social commentary on how violence is exceedingly easily enacted by the wealthy and powerful, while the self defense of marginalized people is criminalized and villainized — but there’s enough there for a whole other post, and this one is long enough as is.)

All that to say, if Eureka had blindly gone with the prevailing approaches taken by popular RPGs in this area (and many others), it would not be half as good at what it does — it would just feel like a reskin of some other game, but marketed as investigative urban fantasy. Instead, it’s a wholly original toolkit that lets writers, GMs, and players create their own spins on a classic plot structure in a fun and engaging way. Taking risks, thinking about incentive structures, and comparing the stories you want to tell with other media that creates a similar vibe is what takes an RPG from being just good to being great. If you’re designing a game, you can accomplish a lot by knowing what stories you want to create and honing in on why you enjoy them. And don’t be afraid to adapt ideas wholesale, either. Eureka cites multiple full pages of inspirations for the vibes, stories, and mechanics that make up its identities, and it’s a better game for it.

And, I must add, if you’re looking for a game that’s fun, good at telling stories about people investigating mysteries, has a friendly and active community, and doesn’t funnel money to Wizards of the Coast, a subsidiary of Hasbro, then absolutely consider taking Eureka out for a spin! It’s a brilliant take on the mystery genre that gives players and GMs the tools to explore deep, realistic, and sometimes supernatural situations in an easy and character driven package.

[no-goodbyes-no-regrets]

Day 2: cooking together for @bucktommyfluffebruary

Short 'n' sweet today - I might even catch up soon!

It's (not) just dinner (AO3)

(this will continue in day 11 and 12)

---

"Ok you cut the zucchini, while I take care of the onions. Or do your eyes not tear up from cutting onions? Then maybe you can do that while I cut the zucchini." Buck ordered, rushing around Tommy's kitchen.

"You know you can just buy a bag of mixed vegetables that's already chopped up." Tommy suggested. "That would be easier than all of this. And less time consuming."

"We could also just buy a couple of microwave meals or order pizza." Buck said sarcastically. "Or maybe just pre-packaged sandwiches from a gas station? Or a couple of bags of chips?"

Tommy bit back a laugh and put his hands on his boyfriend's hips.

"Babe relax. It's just dinner with my brother. It's no big deal. He'll eat whatever you want to serve. It doesn't matter if it's store bought or made from scratch."

"It's not just dinner. It's the first time I'm meeting your brother and his... boyfriend? Partner? Lover? Spouse? What do they call each other?"

"I'm... not sure... Does it really matter?"

"Yes it matters! I want to get it right. I want them to like me."

"I'm sure they will." Tommy told him. "And if they don't, that's their loss." he vowed.

"Tommy... You only just reconnected with your brother... I don't want to be the one to mess it all up for you."

"You won't." Tommy insisted. "I've gone years without Donovan in my life and managed just fine. If he, for whatever stupid reason, decides not to like you, then I don't want him back in my life. You're more important."

Buck melted a little at that.

"Still. I want him and... What's his name again... Dominique, to like me."

"And I'm sure they will. Don told me Dominique owns a food truck, maybe you two can trade recipes."

"Wait, he's a chef? I thought you said they worked together? I thought he was SWAT?!"

"He is. The food truck is kind of a hobby I think."

"Great. What kind of food does he serve? What's the name of the truck? Maybe I can find out via google."

"I don't know. Don never mentioned a name." Tommy shrugged. "I've never met the guy either, only seen a picture, so he's probably just as nervous about meeting us as we are about meeting them."

"That's the spiders are more afraid of you than you are of them speech." Buck rolled his eyes. "Only this is about your brother and his... partner." He settled on.

"Maybe. But is it working?"

Buck sighed.

"Maybe." he turned his attention back to the recipe he'd found online. A slightly different version of the classic lasagne Bobby had taught him to make. "Ok we should hurry up because it needs to soak up the flavours in the fridge for a couple of hours before it can go in the oven. And I don’t want them to starve while waiting for dinner."

"Yes, chef!" Tommy said and jokingly saluted him with a wooden spoon. "Put me to work."

Buck narrowed his eyes.

"Have you been watching The Bear without me?"

"Of course not. I would never."

"So if I check... it'll still show the episode where we left off the other day?"

"Hmm"

"Thomas..."

"Fine..." Tommy rolled his eyes. "I was bored when you were on shift ok? There was nothing interesting on. I only watched two episodes!"

"We only had two episodes to go until the end of the season!" Buck said exasperated, pointing a zucchini at him. "But your brother will be here in a couple of hours so we really don't have time to get into this right now... But I'm going to remember this... For later."

"I look forward to it, chef." Tommy teased and stole a quick kiss that quickly turned into more until Buck pushed him away.

"Stop distracting me. You. Onions. Now." he ordered and Tommy grinned and gave him another mock salute.

"Yes, chef!"

"Menace."

"I learnt from the best."

[angelic-waffles]

Thought everyone’s lotf ocs were cool so I plugged my girl Angie into the book ^^

Three hour drawing of her pre and post island- I think she would thrive lmao. Info on her bellow

She’s a bit of toxic honestly which, yk unsurprisingly makes island life a walk in the park

Pre crash- She lived with her dad Alexander who’s 28 (yeah fill in the blanks) Her mom left when she was a baby because she never really wanted to be a mom but Alex was an amazing dad for Angie, even if he was young, working two jobs and studying law all while raising a wild child. Her dad also had a habit of doing her hair every morning. For him, it was a way to bond. He’d always do it up in pigtails with yellow bows.

Post crash- She doesn’t have any strong convictions or connections. She makes herself useful to whoever is currently most powerful so they’ll return the favor. She doesn’t particularly like anyone, but she doesn’t particularly dislike anyone either. Naturally, she uses this neutrality to her benefit. She’d survive pretty long. Assuming we follow cannon and they get saved, she would survive the whole book. Assuming we go from the no rescue angle, she’d definitely get killed, just later on. The only person (or people) on the island she’s really loyal to are the littluns. She thinks they’re too young to be going through all they are, and she really just wants them to be able to have a life one day after all the chaos of the island. She doesn’t show this though. She calls them brats and plays with them, but sometimes she’ll put some fruit on lower branches, or make sure all the littluns are safe and without major injury.

General info- Angie is 12 years old, Latina, and uses she/her. Personality wise she lies almost compulsively. Sometimes about big things, sometimes about small things, but it’s an urge she has that she has a really hard time controlling. She’s also very energetic! She bounces from wall to wall and afterwards still has energy to do things like listen in on people’s bs or instigate something. Bringing me to another trait of her’s, she’s a terrible instigator. If she smells even a little bit of drama she’ll find out as much as she can. And if nothing is to be found? Well she doesn’t tend to lie here and there… But she’s not just some lying asshole, she’s very dedicated to things and people if you give her a chance, she also has a strong interest in fashion and music. Back home her walls are absolutely covered in posters or drawings of her favorite pop stars from the radio. All of them do seem to be women though, hmmmmm. I think of her sort of as an unholy blend of Regina Gorge and Kokichi Ouma

Aaaand as a little thank you for sticking around, here’s a screen shot of this hand because I love drawing pudgy baby hands but I can only justify it for my I’m so not Going to Heaven characters or kids, and thankfully she’s a kid! So yay chubby little baby hands

[hyacinthleaves]

What about mark, Damon, and Tozu with a s/o that is the polar opposite of them? That sounds interesting imo :D

Mark Berskii:

A ditzy, bubbly s/o would honestly be so hilarious to see him with

He kinda has to explain things to you like you're 5 sometimes but he doesn't really mind it

He's dealt with worse

Extra points if you're clumsy, he's constantly scolding you for it. He carries around bandaids just for you

I would say he loves how social you are but I think it makes him a bit anxious at times

Like sometimes he thinks you have no sense of danger because of how easy it is for you to talk to anyone about anything

He appreciates that you're more of a talker during conversations, but you do motivate him to speak more (to you specifically) so on a good day he might be pretty responsive

I think you've traumatized him with how easily you give up information

Please stop doing that...

Damon Maitsu:

If you and Diana aren't close, it has to be the work of dark reunion

Anyway I feel like if you aren't proud of your talent, he can tell you MANY ways in which it's useful

Every time you feel down, he can give you a different reason as to why you shouldn't be, why you're amazing, and why everyone else sucks

He's literally your personal hypeman even if he doesn't look like he is

He doesn't always push you to be more confident as a whole though. I think that he lets you be comfortable if it doesn't really hurt you in doing so, so he'll mostly leave you alone

I feel like you'd have a more artistic talent and he might take interest in it (he might act like he doesn't for a while but ofc he'll come around, which is when the comforting part would come in from the beginning)

He gets annoyed with you sometimes

Well not really you, but some of your beliefs

Your lack of judgement can really bother him

He's tried to change your mind on things (or people) but while you take the time to acknowledge his perspective, you won't budge. So that does bother him

The fact that you're so open with your home life is so interesting to him

And he's always asking questions (others might think it's rude but you don't care)

Tozu:

He is SO CONFUSED

Considering how strong your moral compass is, he tried to get you into situations in which you might change them. And you won't. And he's frustrated.

Eventually he gives up and accepts that how kind and compassionate you are as well

Well sometimes it does bother him because if something really bothers you, he'll have to cut it out (man cares about partner)

Its so funny because he gets so pouty whenever you stop him from doing something sadistic

Sometimes he gets away with things if he bends the truth or if he just doesn't tell you things

Which just causes more problems for him

He's not one to beg but if you're really adamant on stopping his evil-doing...he might have to

He honestly thinks it's hilarious that you don't like it when he calls the students peasants

He DOESN'T find it hilarious that you giggle when the students feel the need to call him down for something

Old married couple vibes

[innerempire]

Peter who is Tony’s personal assistant - the only personal assistant who has actually stuck through him for more than two years. Prior to Peter, all of Tony’s past PA(s) were people who had resigned within 24 hours (and left in absolute tears) because they simply couldn’t cope with the stress.

Peter deals with everything; handling the older male’s hectic schedules, enduring crazy ex-partners and slighted flings who show up here and there and hey, he’s had coffee and juice, whatever-you-name it thrown in his face. Before anything even reaches Tony’s desk, be it an interview request or social invite, it’s strictly screened by Peter first.

He works round the clock basically. It’s high stress, but the monetary compensation is….Peter thinks he might be set for life if he keeps it up for another couple of years.

“So, remember, you’ve got that in-person interview with Ms Bellford at 6 today. I’ve screened all the questions, but I’ve got Happy on standby just in case she goes off script and-“

Tony frowns, “You’re not going to be there?”

“Uh-“ Peter glances up from his new yet-to-be-released Stark Industries-issued tablet. “I requested for time off for today a month and a half ago. You signed off on it.”

Tony has that particular look on his face which tells Peter that the older male doesn’t remember doing anything of that sort.

“Tony-“ Peter really can’t cancel because this is the third time he’s rescheduling this date with a guy he’s sort of hit it off with from a dating app four months ago. “I need to turn up for my date, because my social life is non-existent as it is.”

“…you don’t count being with me as socializing? Also, a date? First time I’m hearing of it.”

“You’re my boss - I have to socialize with you.”

“Ouch.”

“And it’s the first time I’m mentioning it because the previous two dates didn’t happen. But it needs to happen today because he seems somewhat decent.” Peter hopes so, at least.

Tony leans back in his chair, “Well, I hope Mr.Decent is taking you somewhere nice.”

“Mm, whatever is “nice” in my vocab would probably be “peasant-like” in yours.” Because Tony has ridiculously fancy taste. “I think it’s some fine-dining Korean restaurant in West Village.” Peter glances at his watch. “…and if I want to make a good first impression, I really need to leave.” He gives Tony an imploring look. “Uh, would it be too much to tell you not to call me if you don’t need me?”

Tony grins at Peter, teasing, “But I always need you.”

“Not this evening, you don’t.” Peter quips. “Anyway, behave, don’t terrorize the interviewer, please. She seens genuinely interested in the company’s progress, so - best behavior, please.”

“See, that’s why you need to be there. I’m always the best version of myself when you’re around.”

“Uh huh.” Peter deadpans. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr.Stark.”

- / -

“Uh…what do you mean it’s closed? I thought we made reservations.” Peter asks his date over the phone.

“Yeah, a month ago. But someone from the restaurant called me just now and said they’re closed because of a sudden emergency.”

Peter tries not to feel too bummed. He had been looking forward to dining at the restaurant since they made plans for it.

“Oh…then, should we go elsewhere?” Peter suggests.

“Well, it’s a Friday and anywhere else nice is probably fully booked out.”

Peter wonders if this third failed attempt at a date is the Universe’s way of telling him that things with this particular person is not meant to be. Look, he’s not insanely superstitious, but surely it means something?!

“…maybe next time?”

Both of them agree on next time, but Peter thinks there’s not going to be one. He sighs as he ends the call. Well, he could just order in and spend the night actually resting, but instead, Peter finds himself re-entering the office tower and making his way up to the topmost floor and back to his own personal office (truly a perk)

“Someone’s passionate about their job. What happened to a date with Mr.Decent?” Is the first thing that Tony asks when he pops in.

Peter simply sighs, and it’s then that he realizes Tony’s tie is slightly crooked. He gets out of his chair and closes the distance between them, nimble fingers adjusting the tie to sit nicely.

“The restaurant had to close all of a sudden. Last minute emergency.”

“A well-prepared man would have made back up plans.” Tony remains still as Peter fusses over him.

“I kinda thought so too.” Peter admits, hands sweeping along the lapels of his boss’s suit jacket. “It’s weird - I’m disappointed, but I’m not that disappointed?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Well. I, for one, am glad.”

- / -

It’s Peter’s third year of overseeing that the Stark Expo runs smoothly, but it’s still as anxiety-inducing as ever. The moment Tony ends his speech, Peter heaves a sigh of relief, knowing that the most important aspect of the expo was over. Now, the attendees would be mingling and networking and Peter could finally enjoy a glass of wine. Or two.

“Can I assume that it’s finally safe to approach you?”

Peter lets out a laugh as he accepts the glass of red wine being handed to him, “Fashionably late as always, Quentin.”

“Mm, it’s on purpose really. I don’t really need to waste twenty minutes of my time listening to Stark stroke his own ego.”

Quentin Beck was one of their biggest competitors to date, and frankly, he was smart enough that it kept Tony on his toes.

“You look great.” Quentin comes in for a hug which Peter reciprocates. “It’s the third year of you handling Stark Expo, and my third time trying my luck at poaching you for myself.”

Peter had to give it to Quentin for his persistance, “Better luck next year.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Then…how about trying my luck for something non business related? Coffee, dinner?”

Peter grins up at Quentin, “Are you asking me out?” He can’t deny that that they’ve always engaged in flirty banter whenever they meet.

“Mm hmm, and I know there’s a conflict of interest somewhere, but I truly can’t bring myself to give a fuck.”

He nearly snorts the wine up his nose, playfully swatting Quentin on the shoulder. He’s giving the thought some consideration because Quentin is smart and a looker, and he’a older too, somewhere along Tony’s age, and that’s always a plus. But he doesn’t get to dwell on it much longer when Tony comes to join them.

He doesn’t seem too pleased to see Quentin, startling Peter slightly be resting his hand against the dip of Peter’s back. As if staking his claim over his own personal assistant.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He doesn’t sound apologetic at all, and Peter’s instantly whisked away before he manages to get a word out to Quentin. “What is it? Do you need something, Mr.Stark?” Peter asks, absolutely confused once they’re quite a distance away from the crowd.

Tony eases his hold slightly around Peter’s waist,” There should really be laws about fraternizing with the enemy.”

“You’re exaggerating. You know how Quentin is.”

“Yes, and I don’t like it one bit of how he was looking at you.”

“…careful, Mr.Stark. Your jealousy’s showing.”

Peter waits for Tony to laugh, but it doesn’t come.

No way Tony Stark is jealous.

Peter doesn’t know what to do all of a sudden, not with his boss staring him down. He’s self-conscious of their proximity all of a sudden.

“Mr.Stark-“

“I don’t really take too well to sharing, both professionally and personally.”

- / -

[polyamorousmood]

I feel like I'm inclined toward, not fully open relationships per se, but closed small group poly if that makes sense. But the thing is I'm still a virign in terms of penetrative sex and I can't see how someone in my situation can be with multiple people at once because how would I even choose which one to let fuck me first. Also, I'm a bi woman and have internalized the idea that my first time with a man has to happen before my first time with a woman because if it happened the other way around I'd be betraying the Sapphic community by straying for men. And on top of that I can't do no strings attached sex (on some level I'd argue no such thing truly exists, that the act itself comes with strings by design) or one night stands. I've tried, and it's never ended well even though I want to be able to be fun enough to be worth being with in a world where refusing early sexual contact gets me written off as incompatible by the vast majority of people outside who align with my core political and social values. So that brings another problem I need, if not a relationship, at least a very strong friendship and basis of trust and comfort to sleep with someone, which is also antithetical to the way things work in the real world past high school. And I can't fathom the thought of being penetrated by a circumcised penis due to past attempts being really awful and failing and being blamed for that failure and me not being willing to risk that ever happening again. In theory I'd blow a guy who was circumcised but I'm too afraid of being forced to go further than that so I'd rather not even be in any kind of sexual situation with them. And like I want to believe that there's some circumcised guy out there who would be willing to prove me wrong but I can't see that happening so despite living in a state where like 85% of the male population is circumcised and the majority that aren't being notably younger I find myself trying to look for a man with whom I a share core values, shared interests and mutual romantic and sexual attraction and who is uncircumcised and not so big that I can't imagine it not hurting and who is okay with not having sexual intercourse right away and who will provide a comfortable and good experience for my first time (setting aside the inherent awkwardness of a first time) and who will stick with me allowing me to learn from practice together rather than abandoning me for not being perfect in the bedroom from the get go as is so often expected once your past a certain age (I'm at an age where it's assumed you've had sex before so nobody bothers asking and I'm never sure when to bring it up) so that I can share that with him and then I plan to eventually ask to open things up. Initially just to pursue my feelings toward other women but after some time I would consider asking if it'd be okay for me to add other men to our polycule as well but the trouble is I can't seem to find the right first man. Any advice?

Yeah, so uh. Basically?

You made up most of those rules. You don't have to follow them.

I am sympathetic to the nature of trauma, and of anxieties. It is because of my sympathy that I think it is a bad idea to default to capitulating to them.

Put more plainly, you complicate your life unnecessarily by letting your worst thoughts dictate your actions.

Any one of these considerations would be reasonable enough. We all do this on ocassion, and we are right to do so! Not everything is worth the mental struggle of untangling. Having said that. You clearly have so many untangled thought patterns and habits that it's interfering significantly with your life which means it's time to roll up your sleeves and sit down with at least one of these wads of Christmas lights🎄🧶, metaphorically speaking.

I don't care which one you start with, but it seems to me the easiest would be your point about *checks notes📝* dating a man first so you aren't betraying saphics? Did I get that right?

If you'll allow me to be blunt, you already characterized this thought as a stupid one. So why are you still planning on following it❓️❓️ Sweetheart. You know this. You know that's a thought we think and go "well the medallion says that's stupid so we're not gonna do that" [<-reference you don't need to get]. But here you are, planning your whole life around it? What the fuck are we doing here, lady? Leave that shit on the side of the road where it belongs! Your honorable sanitation worker will dispose of that trash if you just leave it outside and ignore it long enough, my good bitch (affectionate).

You could work on the other stuff too. Trauma is a mess, and I respect due caution⚠️ with the dating world. But it is... just sad to me you're willing to write off 70% of men for a feature they cannot change. That's probably a lot more to unpack, and I am not qualified to give that intensive mental health advise. But, man, I would understand if a fella were a little hurt. 🫤

Massive pivot incoming

But I think you were posting asking for advice on how to get into relationship(s) like what you specified. And like, if you're not going to put some work into the above, then I suppose my advice would be to try to 🦄Unicorn🦄? If you're not in the know, that means (roughly) that you become the "third" for an established couple👫. I'm given to understand bisexuality women are very popular in this niche. It has its own pitfalls, but you wouldn't have to worry about the order if you were dating them both, for one. It also might help some of your anxiety around men to have a woman that's vouching for him. And like. Those that are seeking a relationship (and not just a casual sex) would, I assume, be willing to wait a bit without a whole lot of hullabaloo since they can still fuck each other in the meanwhile. 🤷‍♀️ It's good practice during these to discuss what sex would look like ahead of time anyway, so that would be a natural time to bring up... all of what you wrote. [EDIT: I don't think the matter of who to fuck first would be an issue. Sleep with the man first since you said that's what you want. They're not going to take offense, and if they are, they will be very upfront about it]

Aside from that, I think your only option would be to befriend a lot of men🧍‍♂️👨‍🦱👨🧍‍♂️👨‍🦳👨‍🍼, ask weirdly specific questions about their genitals🤔 until you find one that seems suitable, and start angling for a friends-to-lovers situation.

Or, oh here's a novel one, get you a guy who's into bandage🪢➰️ and tease/denial! Then you'll control everything sexually and he won't be bothered! Win-win! Have you tried FetLife? (Light-hearted... but only half joking)

Also, everyone's mileage will vary, but I have found men wanting a relationship with you are willing to sort through sexual stuff with you. I'd take the time to get to know someone first, make sure you're both a little invested. The ones who care about sexual stuff so much they'd "abandon" you... probably wasn't serious about the relationship (not to say a guy's never gotten serious after getting invested at least partially through sex).

whatever you decide to do, good luck out there, friend.🍀🍀

[floodonthefloor]

first of all: sorry for any grammar mistakes i may have here english is not my first language but doing my best <3 pedestal was very special to me and even though ive probably read all the Rhaenicent fanfics i think it occupies my first place today. i know you are considering doing some extra chapters so if you have any suggestions:

would love to see a chapter from rhaenyra's pov when she saw the mark on alicent’s shoulder for the first time. i think it would be very interesting to see her dying inside and then spending the next few days writhing at home and then decides to go to alicent's apartment. 

okay, actually i said i had some suggestions but in reality this is the most special and the only one worth my time coming here to spend my bad english. love uuu sam

you know what! i wasn't planning on writing a pov for rhaenyra for that but i will do it for you here is my little freeform extra snippet for u! also your english is great for someone who does not speak it as your first language!!!

Rhaenyra spends the entirety of her drive back home from the courthouse trying and failing to think of the last time she's felt like this—

Angry, hurt, turned on, uselessly yearning, desperate—

— because if Rhaenyra can think of other times she's felt like this, it would mean she's gotten through them just fine; that it's not like she hasn't felt like this before, so fucking whatever.

But— by the time she steps inside of her flat— she still hasn't figured it out. She still doesn't think she's ever felt this way before for anyone in her entire life.

Someone else marked her.

Alicent let someone else fuck her.

And Rhaenyra's never been a huge proponent of the whole hard to get play; has never really seen the point in it, really. I want you. Why should I make that a problem to solve? She's found it childish at best and obstructive at worst; when she wants someone, she tells them, and then it's up to them what they do with that information. Nine times out of ten, it works.

Alicent Hightower is one of them.

Rhaenyra gets home and doesn't bother turning on the lights — the dark suits her just fine right now. She drops her bag near the door, shrugs off her coat. Tries to roll out the tension in her shoulders, tilting her head one way, then the other, but nothing fucking helps.

Who was she? Did she know what she had? Did she have to convince Alicent, or did Alicent want her?

Rhaenyra stops in the middle of the living, shuts her eyes, wills herself not to think about it, it doesn't matter it doesn't matter— except it fucking does.

Alicent let someone else fuck her, and Rhaenyra shouldn't feel this way; she has no claim to her, they aren't anything, they weren't anything, not in any way that counted, not in any way that would have this constitute anything like betrayal— and still, it feels like one.

It feels mechanical and automatic when Rhaenyra readies herself for bed and settles in— like her body is doing the things required of it while her mind just keeps thinking about it.

Worst yet— despite the anger and the jealousy of it sitting heavy in her chest— she still wants her. Rhaenyra, in the safety of her own penthouse, does the dangerous thing; she starts imagining it. She starts imagining the events that led to those teeth marks on Alicent's shoulder, the kind of spiral she can't pull herself out of.

She's alone— no one's there to see her, no one's there to pull her back. So she lets herself sink into it. Lets the ugly thoughts come.

(But they're not ugly. Not even a fucking little.)

It's Alicent, her hair spilled over unfamiliar sheets. Alicent, parting her lips for someone else. Alicent, making the kind of sounds Rhaenyra can coax out of her, the kind Rhaenyra knows by heart, the kind Rhaenyra earned.

Rhaenyra's fingernails curl against her palm as she keeps trying to picture it— forces herself to see it. Tries to imagine the moment it happened. Was it quick? An impulse? A flash of heat in the dark?

What did she say? Did she cry out her name? Did she say please, did the person fucking her call her a good girl like Alicent loves?

It sinks its teeth into her like whoever fucking did with Alicent's shoulder; did that happen when Alicent came, or did Alicent make someone else come? Rhaenyra thinks of the way Alicent can be in bed; so utterly uninhibited, so desperate and needy and unapologetic about it, as though she's making up for a lifetime of wanting and feeling terrible for wanting in these hidden moments between sheets.

Did you let yourself be handled the way you like, Alicent? Did you arch into it? Let her press closer, let yourself be taken apart piece by piece? Did you think about me? Did you pull her in? Did you let her ruin you? Did you come? How many times? Did you make her come, too? How many times?

Rhaenyra swallows, her throat dry— doesn't want to think about this, doesn't want to let it wrap around her like this like a constrictor, but her body is betraying her just like Alicent's betrayed her —

No, not betrayed— she's not yours and you're not hers and there is nothing to betray—

She shifts again, heat coiling lowlowlow in her stomach, her thighs pressing together, and she's slick with want and she fucking hates it. She's slipping a hand beneath her sheets, letting her fingers drift lower, thinking about Alicent beneath a shadowed stranger thinking about —

The way you moan, the way you touch yourself when you're close and I'm inside you, the way you circle your own nipples when I'm going down on you and how you beg me for it Alicent Alicent Alicent —

[blondphobic]

in celebration of my 1st anniversary as a lads player, i’m sharing my ranking of the current love interests and some random thoughts on them, not that anybody asked or care about

1st place of course comes Rafayel, I wouldn’t be exaggerating saying he’s everything I like in a otome character, he’s SO charismatic, caring, funny, passionate, a switch (jeez who wrote that?), endearing and more, he caught my eye the moment I started playing the game, I adore his dynamic with mc, I’m very fond of flirty banter and they delivered.

he’s so complex and by coincidence I wrote this quite-long-but-not-as-long-as-the-original-draft post yesterday about how people simplify his character’s internal conflict and that he’s much MUCH more than most fans seems to give him credit, I didn’t even know today was gonna be my 1st anniversary, I found out because they sent me celebrative messages, I wrote that just because I fucking love Rafayel. I love you, Rafayel!

2nd place comes Xavier, I’ve been in a Xav phase recently, I can’t really say why because I actually don’t know, I’m just in a Xavier mood, I like his personality and his interactions with MC, he’s very tender, friendly and sweet, I really like that, the jealousy thing kinda activates my fight or flight but I chose to overlook it since he isn’t my main and another LIs gonna step into the 2nd place next month anyway.

3rd place is Zayne, I almost put him on 2nd because I really really like Zayne but it’s more in a “we’re besties” way, love his personality, he’s very kind and considerate, I unaronically think he’s really funny and he’s such a sweetheart with MC, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ love this guy.

4th place’s Sylus, he was actually 2nd place for some months but somehow ended in 4th here, proving that except for Rafa, my ranking changes constantly, I really appreciate him tho, he’s a very charismatic character. like Zayne he just wouldn’t work for me at long term, he’s too daddy dom archetype for my personal taste, every time he calls MC “kitten” I get the ick.

5th place and surprising no one, comes Caleb for a bunch of reasons (but not the reasons people imagine I would have), not only he just got added to the game and we barely got time to grow attached to him yet but because being honest (and controversial), I find him kinda boring.

I’m not very fond of childhood friends to lovers so this end up influencing my opinion on him, I dislike how this trope relies on fake nostalgia over moments the characters shared together and forget the fact that I, the real person playing the game, wasn’t there and therefore have no emotional connection to this character. He always going “remember when you did that?” “remember how we use to do that?” no, I don’t.

Caleb was on scream for like 5 minutes then fucking exploded now he’s back acting psycho, Infold is giving me zero to none time to build any fondness for him so for me he’s just a rando who’s trying to kidnap me, I get he went through some brainwashing shit but since I don’t know him his betrayal just doesn’t hit like it suppose to hit. I didn’t felt betrayed, I felt disgusted.

also I can’t lie, overprotective men aren’t for me, even before being brainwashed Caleb was already too much for my liking, I already have enough people in my real life who think they know what is best for me more than I do, I don’t need this energy in my silly lil hot men game, if I wake up one day feeling like spending time with a man who’s overprotective to the point of being overbearing I can just hang out with my dad.

that being said I don’t hate him, my heart is forgiven when it come to characters if they’re well-written, Infold made a good job with all of them to this point so there still hope for Caleb, Sylus was lowkey a cunt in the beginning too and everyone seems to have forgotten by now

as a bonus, my expectations to the 6th LI: I want him to be related to Ever but I don’t want him to be a ceo because that would be very boring, there’s nothing sexy about making money by exploiting workers and Sylus kinda already fill the ceo archetype, I would prefer a guy who is/was a scientist working for Ever but he discovered things he didn’t suppose to discover and now wants to leave, something along those lines, we also need a sub character because the girlies who aren’t into the dom daddies are clearly in disadvantage, give us someone even more needy than Rafayel, give us a man who’s so pathetic. He having colored hair would be cool too.

also I want to propose we start referring to the LIs as “the lads” because refereeing to them as “LIs” sounds cold to me and calling them lads is goofy so it’s makes me laugh

[hongjoongspoetry]

I am so ready for this series to see daylight omg!

I don't even know where to start, to be honest. You really know how to make me feel like I'm in the exact setting as the characters. The warmth of the coffee shop mirroring Mingi's personality when he gives the MC a drink, him checking up on her, the little brush of their fingers, her asking him about his glasses, her fixing his glasses for him — it’s so domestic, but with an undertone of complexity that we are still in the dark about. You don't call someone a friend who would defy gravity for your sake 😭 Also, through the first few paragraphs we can evidently see how good relationship they have, just by them knowing each other's every move, fussing and worrying about one another, it's very cute and I like how you didn't need a whole backstory to capture the weight of their "friendship".

Another thing I love about your stories, your MCs are never dull. They always have interests or occupations that are new or "unusual". I don't think I've ever read a fanfic where the MC makes jewellery for a living (that could just be me not being good at finding fics, but I stand by my words!)

“Buy some butter-flavoured popcorn, I forgot to grab some yesterday.” Mingi nodded as he unlocked the door, playfully tugging on my pinkie when I went to open it. I glanced back with raised eyebrows and he shrugged, looking down to the floor like a kicked puppy. I chuckled and squeezed his pinkie back, pulling my hand away as I finally pushed the door open, “Don’t pout, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Fuck, these two will be the end of me and we're not even that far into the first chapter 😭

She had untameable ginger hair and fiery red lips, her earrings always colourful hoops and her outfit the colours of the rainbow. She was full of energy and life, filling the shop with her radiance much like the sun filled our hearts on a cold winter day. I loved working with her, she saw beauty in everything and offered anyone a chance when they felt useless or good for nothing.

Girl, did you just pull a Stan Lee moment on us and include yourself in your fic? Because if you did, you're a genius and this is amazing 🩷

The whole scene where they are first watching a movie and cuddling together on the couch then making out is so sweet and domestic, and I think it's so funny how the MC refers to Mingi as a good friend. I'm really intrigued on what Mingi's view of this whole relationship/friendship is, and if he sees the MC as a friend too? I doubt it, but I mean, it's still the first chapter so I can't really draw any conclusions. All I know is that the MC has been through stuff and needs time to figure out what she wants/needs on her own, but Mingi is a bubble she can get lost in and not worry about other things. Yet that will probably only hold for so long because she will have to face these things sooner or later, and I wonder what support Mingi will give her then?

A great first chapter, Ari 🩷 I'm really excited to see what the other chapters will have in store for the MC and Mingi. This is just the beginning and I can't wait to see more of their friendship/relationship progress through the chapters. I'm already dying for the domestic setting and couple like exchanges between them, like I need more.

Every time I see you...chapter 1 ↰

...my throbbing heart rate spikes up

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

☆ Warning: none ☆ Word count: 5.3k ☆ Rating: sfw ☆ Genre: slice of life, established situationship, post university setting, fluff ☆ Summary: There was nothing exclusive between the two of you, but somehow you didn't mind being in Mingi's arms, in his presence. A day spent well gets rewarded by a movie night with the person you're the most fond of.

☆ Visuals ☆ 

M.list

A/N: And so, the first chapter is here! It's a slow ease into their relationship, it will pick up as we proceed, I promise. I hope you find it intriguing, let me know what you thought of this part, I'm curious to hear your opinions! I think this is very different from what I usually write, but soft!Mingi is so dear to me that I sob anytime I write for this series LMAO. The Mingi from this story is canon Mingi, and you can't convince me otherwise lol. Next chapter coming next week around this time! ^^ Check out the vision board I made for this story, as well as Giselle's Dopamine song! Taglist is open for the story! Enjoy! ^^ divider

Taglist: @spicxbnny @hongjoongspoetry

🎧 𝘭 𝒹𝜎𝑛’𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝛼 𝓂𝛼𝑛, 𝒿𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝛼𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝜎𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 / Ⴘ𝑒𝛼ℎ, 𝑦𝜎𝑢 ℓ𝜎𝜎𝑘 𝑠𝜎 𝑔𝜎𝜎𝒹 𝑠𝑡𝛼𝑛𝒹𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑒𝘹𝑡 𝑡𝜎 𝓂𝑒 / 𝛮𝑒𝘹𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝘭 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝐷𝜎𝑝𝛼𝓂𝑖𝑛𝑒 / 𝘊𝛼𝑛’𝑡 ℓ𝑒𝑡 𝑦𝜎𝑢 𝑐ℓ𝜎𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝜎 𝓂𝑒 🎧

            The scent of ground coffee was potent as the grinder disturbed the otherwise serene atmosphere of the modest coffee shop, located in the heart of the city, right under a publishing company. Thus, it was famous among bookworms, office workers, or high school students who loved to skip their last class of the day, the school was located just a bit further up on the street. I loved this area because it was always busy, littered with people and various shops on both sides of the boulevard, housing hidden gems and other popular hot spots like the Moon & Stars Coffee Ground coffee shop that Mingi worked at part-time. His back was turned to me as he worked the coffee grinder, his exposed biceps bulging as he screwed the top of the lid back shut, finally stopping the grinder. Silence fell upon the coffee shop once again, giving way to the quiet jazz music playing through the speakers. Mingi had the opening shift today, the shop wasn’t opened yet, but I had a few privileges by being his friend, so, I was allowed in as long as I helped with dusting the tables off and changing the flowers which were withering away in the small, cute, orange vases placed on top of each round table.

The coffee shop was an explosion of colours, the walls painted a deep green with low-hanging retro chandeliers that gave the place a moody vibe even during the day. Plants weren’t scarce either, giving the air inside a much-needed refresh from the polluted air coming from the outside. Abstract paintings hung on the wall from artists even I didn’t know, and the counter I was leaning against was a deep maroon, sturdy and able to withhold a few splashes of the drinks placed atop it. A few delicacies were displayed in the window to my left, most of them were still being baked in the kitchen located straight behind the counter, and I picked at the leaf of the small plant absentmindedly as Mingi’s silver rings collided against the shaker he used to combine different coffee grounds. The sun was just rising on the horizon, coating the inside of the coffee shop in an orange hue, a single sunray falling onto Mingi’s dark brown hair, making it appear lighter than it was. I continued watching him in silence, my eyes still heavy from having woken up not even an hour ago.

The world was still quiet outside, but those who started their jobs early or had to travel longer were out and about, all quiet and not bothering each other as they walked down the sidewalks. The coffee shop had half an hour before it would open, and by that time I would be gone, headed to the store I worked at. We were lucky that our workplaces were relatively close to each other, if we were in a hurry, we could make the walk last roughly ten minutes. The thought of having Mingi just around the corner was comforting for some reason, perhaps knowing that if I texted him that I needed him for something, he’d come running around the corner brought a sense of security with itself. I was used to having Mingi by my side, ready to drop everything if I needed his help or assistance with something. He was a good friend, dependable and trustworthy, loyal beyond what could be considered healthy. I smiled as Mingi lightly swayed his hips to the music, the dark green apron tied around his waist accentuating the tininess of it. The sweet scent of salted caramel made saliva gather in my mouth, and I knew Mingi’s intention before he had even turned around.

“You haven’t dozed off, sleepyhead?” He asked with a chuckle, his voice quiet and a deep rumble in his chest. It had always been like that, gravely with a rasp to it, yet warm in tone and used with gentleness. Mingi wasn’t the type of person to shout, perhaps if he got too excited his voice would raise a few octaves as he was carried away by his exhilaration, always eager to share it with someone as his eyes sparkled like the stars on a clear stary night.

“Not yet,” I answered, chin resting in my palm as Mingi leaned his hip against the counter, searching for the right lid for the cup he held, “It would be a bit difficult while standing up, I’m not like you.”

That made Mingi chuckle as he threw me an amused glance, his heavy and sharp eyes friendly as they crinkled at the ends. He found the right lid for the cup and placed it on top of it, pressing down thrice to make sure he had placed it on correctly. Then, he slowly pushed the warm container towards me and I smiled, accepting the coffee wordlessly. Our fingers brushed together and I felt a rush of warm tingle through my hand, making my smile widen as did Mingi’s, his eyes becoming smaller with the action.

“Thank you,” I muttered as I raised the sweet coffee to my lips, taking a cautious sip since it was still hot. Mingi hummed, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and his taut chest muscles pulled at the form-fitting white tee he wore. It was warm inside the coffee shop, but I wondered how his exposed arms weren’t covered in goosebumps yet. My cardigan was warm, yet I didn’t look forward to when I’d have to step outside into the crisp morning air once again. Mingi’s necklaces were nicely layered, his outfit simple but put together with a good eye for fashion, “Did you forget your glasses at home once again?”

Mingi’s eyebrows slightly furrowed and he reached up with a hand to touch the bridge of his tall nose, having to check physically that his glasses were missing or not. I shook my head with amusement as I took a small sip of the salted caramel-infused drink, “Seems like you are the sleepyhead.”

“No, it’s here,” Mingi argued, leaning down and reaching forward, arm getting lost in the counter as he felt around for his glasses. His thick eyebrows furrowed, and from his position, they framed his eyes, making his already sharp features sharpen even more. He liked wearing his hair brushed back and out of his eyes lately, the length not quite ready to require a cut, but annoying enough to make Mingi complain about it every once in a while, “See?”

He stood up straight, his height almost intimidating as he leaned forward, shaking the glasses in front of my face before he wore it, the rim thick, boxy, and black. The shape suited his face and softened the intimidating features he was born with, making him look cute. I reached forward, hip digging into the counter, to push the glasses further up on his nose because he had a habit of looking above the glasses instead of through like he was supposed to. Mingi pouted at the action but leaned into my touch, his plush lips jutted out reminding me of our adolescent days when he was nothing but a sulky boy, hating his round-rimmed glasses and always complaining about his school uniform, which didn’t fit him because it was a hand me down. It had taken a few years of maturing for Mingi’s muscles to grow out, strengthened by Pilates, his guilty pleasure as he liked saying. The few classes I accompanied him had me convinced that Pilates was invented for those who craved to have their muscles burning for days, a sort of masochism that I found no joy in.

“You should wear it more often,” I noted, raising an eyebrow as Mingi playfully rolled his eyes, “before your eyesight worsens, of course.”

“Right,” He mock-saluted, leaning just a bit over the counter to be closer to my face, “You’re starting to sound more like my mother each day, Y/N, it’s a bit freaky.”

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, reaching out to flick his forehead, but he knew me too well and dodged my inoffensive attack in time. But before I could retract my arm, he grabbed my wrist with his large hand and brought it down to the counter, gently keeping it in place as his larger hand caged mine against the surface. It was a small effort to make physical contact and I didn’t hate it, I rather enjoyed the small moments of intimacy we could share freely when it was just the two of us. Mingi was an affectionate person, he didn’t shy away when he needed a hug or just a little bit of support, arms wide open and eyes soft as he batted his long eyelashes at you. I hummed and basked in the peace that enveloped us around, something we both enjoyed on quieter days. There was no need for loudness or boisterous behaviour, we already knew who the other was, and there was no need to show off anything.

“Let me play the role of a concerned mother for a bit longer, then,” Mingi snorted, glancing at the clock on the wall to make sure he didn’t keep the coffee shop closed for longer than the program said, “Did you start your research on your final coursework?”

Mingi liked to stay ahead of his assignment deadlines, but sometimes laziness got to him like to any other person. But he hated having to hurry and half-ass his work so that rarely happened. Unless he was loaded with coursework, his assignments would be handed in weeks before their deadline.

“Yes and no,” Mingi sighed, his soft fingertips gently tracing my skin, “I’m supposed to meet with my coordinator this week so that we agree on a subject, I have too many ideas to choose from and I know he’s not fond of research that goes past the twentieth century.”

I nodded, taking a larger sip of my coffee, I could already feel it rejuvenate me, the sleep was gone from my eyes and my body felt less sluggish. It’s a wonder I even managed to get out of bed today, “And let me guess, you want something that deals with the nineteenth century, huh?”

“You know me too well,” Mingi chuckled with a shake of his head, taking his hand off mine as he reached out, swiping his thumb over the corner of my mouth. I looked down at my cup of coffee and ignored the skip of my heartbeat, my cheeks feeling a bit warmer than before, “Maybe I’ll manage to convince him, who knows…what about your day? Do you have a lot of work to do?”

“Not that much, we got three commissions this weekend for five pieces, I’m hoping to get the larger necklace done today,” I answered, glancing at the clock on the wall, and realised I’d have to leave in five minutes if I wanted to make it to the store before it opened.

“You’re always quick, I’m not worried about it.” Mingi winked with a bit of a struggle and I smiled, humming because I knew he was right. I had been making jewellery for a long time now, I was becoming faster and faster at crafting lately, it was rather a blessing since we could have plenty of orders coming in on busier days.

“I’m going to go now,” I said as I grabbed my bag off the floor, throwing it around my shoulder as Mingi nodded, grabbing the keys to come and unlock the entrance door for me, “Are you coming over tonight?”

“Yeah, want me to bring anything?” Mingi asked as he came around the counter and linked our pinkies together while we walked to the door. I quickly did a mental check if I had everything we’d need for our movie night, then remembered that I was out of popcorn…the most important snack of the night.

“Buy some butter-flavoured popcorn, I forgot to grab some yesterday.” Mingi nodded as he unlocked the door, playfully tugging on my pinkie when I went to open it. I glanced back with raised eyebrows and he shrugged, looking down to the floor like a kicked puppy. I chuckled and squeezed his pinkie back, pulling my hand away as I finally pushed the door open, “Don’t pout, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Mingi hummed as he came to the door and leaned against it as I exited, giving me a small smile, “See you, have an easy day.”

“You too, Mingi.” I waved before turning around to head down the street, which was slowly filling up with cars and people as the city awoke, the sun higher in the sky. I could feel Mingi’s eyes on the back of my head, and I didn’t have to turn around to know he’d stay in the doorway, watching me until I crossed the crosswalk and turned the corner, disappearing from sight. The thought of having someone who cared for my safety and looked out for me wasn’t too bad, but I thrived on my independence and wouldn’t have struggled if Mingi wasn’t so sweet to look out for me. Even so, the lingering warmth in my chest due to his attentiveness wasn’t too disheartening.

            By noon, the city had fully awoken and was bustling with restless people going on about their day. The jewellery store I worked at was on a side street, so, we were away from the rambunctious traffic and the impatient drivers that honked their car’s horns at the smallest inconvenience. That didn’t mean, however, that our store was one filled with quiet and calm, it was quite the opposite if our clients proved to be teenage girls looking for beaded friendship bracelets, or colourful rings with gemstones of which attributes they didn’t know about so they asked me or my boss, who was a lovely lady in the forties. She had untameable ginger hair and fiery red lips, her earrings always colourful hoops and her outfit the colours of the rainbow. She was full of energy and life, filling the shop with her radiance much like the sun filled our hearts on a cold winter day. I loved working with her, she saw beauty in everything and offered anyone a chance when they felt useless or good for nothing.

Her store, much like herself, mirrored the same brightness its owner carried. The walls were a light orange with yellowy rays painted on the opposite wall to the entrance, mimicking the warm sun beaming down on Earth through the clouds. Wooden shelves were set up across from the front desk, framing the walls with quirky designs that held the handmade jewellery we worked on day, and sometimes even at night. The floorboards were a rusty copper, and much to everyone’s surprise upon a first encounter with the store, a gorgeous Persian carpet was laid down with intricate design that just brought the aesthetic of the whole place together. The back room was small and hidden behind a beaded curtain right behind my back, offering a perfect escapade when the day was getting too long and the customers were too demanding. Incense always burned, coating the store in a woody scent that felt refreshing but sometimes nauseating if my boss left it on for too long, the ceiling fan thankfully dispersed the strong scent evenly.

The store wasn’t huge, but it felt inviting even upon one glance, and our customers felt cared for whenever they entered and we listened to their requests closely. Having landed this job was just as random as me deciding one day that I wanted to attend a Fine Arts course, focusing more on crafts and clay making. The few vases I had designed were displayed on the higher shelves where it was harder to reach and accidentally break them, my boss was more than happy to sell those too in her store. We both contributed with a little something of ours to the store and that’s why it worked out so nicely, just two fundamentally different people who enjoyed the same arts were brought together to attempt to make something beautiful and long-lasting.

I was tying the knot to the custom-made bracelet one of the teenagers had asked for when her friend walked up to the front desk, eyebrows furrowed and phone in her hand. She held two crystals in her palm, looking at them sceptically.

“Which one is the rose quartz?” She asked, her voice loud and a little rough as she let the crystals fall onto the glass counter. I glanced down at them and pointed at the clearer one on the left.

“That’s a clear quartz, the other one,” My burgundy nail pointed at the pinkish crystal, “is the rose quartz. Which one are you looking for?”

“Rose quartz,” She answered quickly, pushing at the rose quartz with narrowed eyes, “Is it true that it attracts love? Will I find a boyfriend if I wear it all the time?”

“Depends, are you a Taurus or Libra?” I asked as I leaned back in my chair, my boss was on her break and, meanwhile, she knew more about crystals, I had learned this and that from her throughout the years I’ve worked here.

“Not really…” The girl muttered as she shared a look with her friend, who had taken the bracelet I made for her to try it on. The strings I used were yellow and brown, a nice combination of colours, personally not my favourite, but it worked well with her complexion and it was also what she had asked for.

“Well, I heard it’s better if you have Venus in your chart if you want to wear a rose quartz,” I hummed, looking up at the ceiling in thought before I shrugged, “Rose quartz is good for emotional healing too, not just attracting love. But if you think it will help, you could try it out…”

“Do you believe it works?” The girl asked, her eyes just slightly widening. I chuckled, deciding to be honest with her.

“No, but that’s just me. Maybe it’ll work for you.” The girl just nodded, looking at her friend for another opinion. She just shrugged and told the girl to do whatever she wished. Their third friend walked up to the counter and told them that she wouldn’t buy anything today, so they could head out if everyone was ready to leave.

“I’ll buy it.” The girl said as she placed the crystal on the counter and I nodded, grabbing a small plastic wrap for her to store it in until she got home. I scanned the items and told the two girls the price of their purchase, watching them with amusement as they left the store in a hurry, words leaving their mouths in a hurry before they were even out of the store. I settled back into my chair and grabbed my bottle of water to take a gulp, my fingers aching just slightly from the various jewellery I had managed to make until now. The shop was rather busy today and my boss was excited as she whirled around, helping customers out with choosing items for themselves or as gifts.

My phone pinged before I could reach for it, and Mingi’s name lit up my screen as I unlocked it. I tapped on our messaging app and opened our conversation, gasping quietly when I was presented with a picture of a black and white spotted cat, emerald eyes staring curiously into the camera, head tilted to the side in wonder. Its ears were pointed backwards and I could practically hear Mingi cue at it. He loved kittens more than anything and had always wished to buy one, but he thought he was too busy right now to care for another little life besides his.

Mingi: Look how cute she is!! I’ve been feeding her for two weeks now, I’m 100% sure she knows who I am. I’ve named her Genie, isn’t she just so adorable? Me: Man, she really is adorable! I wish she was around when I’m at the shop, pet her in my place too! Genie because she grants wishes?

Mingi: Not more adorable than me, right?? I bet she’d love you too…but I’m her favourite, I just know it. I wanted to name her Greenie at first, but that felt weird. Genie, however, isn’t too bad. No reason for why I gave her that name, though… Me: I think she might be more adorable than you, Mingi… Wait until she meets me, you won’t be her favourite anymore, mister… Your mind sometimes is a mystical place, Mingi, I wonder what goes on inside of it

Mingi: Well, right now I’d like to be in your arms sitting on the couch or something… Something like…being the little spoon because I fall asleep faster when you wrap yourself around me… That’s what I’m thinking about right now instead of making sure I don’t burn the next batch of apple pies, do you want me to put some aside for tonight? Me: You are so cheesy, Mingi, anyone else would block you… I knew you liked being the little spoon, now I even have receipts of it, hah! I had muffins yesterday, so no thank you! Now stop texting and focus on your work, man. Mingi: Right, see you later, woman. Muawh

I chuckled and shook my head, setting my phone to the side with a smile on my face as I opened the new email we had gotten while I was texting Mingi. Seems like the week just started and we’d barely have any time to breathe between all these commissions.

            My living room was covered in darkness aside from the flashing lights of the TV, the movie playing at an acceptable volume to not disturb the neighbours or deafen us. The blanket was fluffy and draped over our legs, mine pulled underneath me while Mingi’s were propped up on the coffee table. His legs were long enough to reach it if stretched out, and I might have envied him for that for a long time. Our hands were intertwined underneath the blanket and placed on Mingi’s thigh, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing against my knuckle every once in a while. Our shoulders brushed together and I would shift around from time to time, to try and keep my ass from going sore. Mingi, on the other hand, had no issue keeping his initial posture for hours on end. The blackout curtains were drawn together to offer us privacy since I only lived on the second floor, and the butter-flavoured popcorn Mingi had brought had been long eaten.

We had been watching the movie in silence for over an hour now with the occasional commentary coming from Mingi about how cool Captain America was. No matter how many times we’ve seen this movie, it never got old or boring. Perhaps it was Chris Evans’ face that made the viewing more pleasurable, alongside Scarlett Johanson, but we were both pretty hooked on the plot despite knowing what came next. There were small easter eggs that we hadn’t noticed before, so there was always something new that one of us accidentally discovered during our rewatches. I felt warm all cosied up next to Mingi, a bit even sleepy as his familiar cologne eased my tense muscles after the long day I’d had. My wrists were sore from all the crafting at the store today, I had even brought home a bracelet that I had to finish for tomorrow. I was too tired to work on it now, but I could thankfully get it done in the morning in thirty minutes.

As if Mingi had read my thoughts, he grabbed my wrist with both hands and slowly started rubbing it, creating heat and gently massaging the tense muscles of my hand. I smiled and playfully grabbed at his fingers, making him chuckle under his breath as the Winter Soldier appeared on the screen for the first time, the car the characters had been using now nothing but a mess of scrapes. I could see Mingi angle his body towards mine from my peripheral, and he licked his plump lips before he cleared his throat.

“I’ve been thinking…” He started quietly, his forehead slightly creasing as his eyes bled into the side of my head. I turned my head away from the TV, familiar with the scene already. The light lit up Mingi’s face, his glasses creating a tiny shadow over his face as I raised my eyebrows at him to prompt him to continue, “So, we’ve both been working hard, and I could use a vacation before my last exams come up. I know I should be studying, but at this point, I feel like I could recite any textbook you hand me, I really need a break. You’ve also been working a lot, and you didn’t take vacation off last year, so…”

I hummed, curious as to where this was headed, “So?”

“Let’s get away for a few days, I’ve been looking for a nice little cabin somewhere in the mountains. Not too far though, I know you don’t like long car rides.” Mingi grabbed my other hand and started massaging that one too, making me sigh in contentment as my hands now tingled with warmth, the tenseness gone from them.

“Just the two of us?” I raised an eyebrow, the idea actually sounded appealing. I could use a break from the hustle and bustle of the city.

“Yeah, just us.” Mingi nodded, smiling a little as I contemplated his offer for a second. I would have to visit my mother before we left, and I’d have to let my boss know in time, but other than that, it sounded like a plan to me.

“Sure, I’d love that.” I smiled and Mingi’s eyes lit up, fingers intertwining with mine as he squeezed our hands together. I chuckled at his excitement and let my eyes run over his face, taking in the softness in his eyes and the curve of his gorgeous mouth. Something in my gut coiled as my hands continued tingling with electricity, and I licked my lips as I leaned forward, eyes set on Mingi’s parted lips. He mirrored my actions and leaned forward, closing the distance between us confidently. His lips were warm as always and faintly tasted like the marshmallows he kept stuffing himself with not even half an hour ago, another guilty pleasure he seemed to have. This one, however, I could understand and even support.

Our bodies leaned closer as I raised my free hand to hold his jaw, tilting his head slightly back so that our lips pressed together a bit firmer. Kissing him always brought a wave of excitement, an electrifying spark running up my spine as our lips moved languidly, taking their time since there was no reason to hurry. He was sweet and gentle even with his kisses, always allowing me to set the pace as his teeth nipped at my bottom lip, his long nose digging into my cheek. Mingi wasn’t a messy kisser but he had never shied away from a little saliva, and there was nothing he loved more than tracing his tongue against mine, sucking on it to deepen the kiss even more as he brought me halfway into his lap. Our hands parted as I grabbed his shoulder and swiped my tongue against his, a content sigh catching in the back of Mingi’s throat as his hand pressed into the small of my back, warm and burning through the fabric of my thin blouse. I could never get tired of his lips, sometimes kissing Mingi was so disorienting that we’d lose track of time, our lips almost as if glued to each other.

Inhaling through my mouth, I let Mingi press small kisses to my chin and mouth, muttering something I couldn’t understand before I captured his lips again, adding just a bit more passion into it as I felt a suffocating emotion build in my chest, heavy and demanding as if having Mingi like this wasn’t good enough. I had always craved more despite having everything I could ask from him, it seemed that I hadn’t been fully satiated just yet. It was a peculiar feeling, but I couldn’t ignore the fire and knot in my stomach anymore as he lapped at my tongue, his fingers gently holding my jaw as if he was afraid I’d slip away. Tonight was a slow evening, I was content with being in his arms, content in wrapping myself in a cocoon of safety that helped me forget the hardships the day had brought with itself. Pulling apart, I pressed a chaste kiss against his swollen lips and cradled his cheek, feeling how warm it was. Before I could completely pull back and sit back next to him, Mingi grabbed my arm as he readjusted himself on my spacious couch, opening his legs up so that I could sit between them. I climbed over his leg and settled down, adjusting the blanket around us so that it would keep his legs warm too as Mingi’s arms wrapped around my torso, nose nuzzling into my nape as he exhaled loudly.

“Do you think Natasha and Steve should’ve ended up together?” He asked quietly, mumbling it into my skin, and I laughed, looking back at the TV.

“I think they were too different for it to work out, and Steve was still in love with Peggie,” I answered truthfully, watching Chris Evans lean against the doorframe in nothing but a muscle white tee, a few bruises here and there, jeans, and a white towel to clean his hands in.

“I think Natasha would’ve been able to show him a new world, I wanted them together.” I didn’t have to look to know that Mingi was pouting, I could hear it in his voice.

“You say that every time we watch this movie.”

“Right, my thoughts won’t change on a random afternoon.”

I chuckled as silence fell upon us once again, wrapped around in the blanket and Mingi’s warmth, with his arms around my body, I felt the safest. It was a weird feeling that never developed into something I could completely understand, but there was something about Mingi’s presence that made me feel at ease, like the earth outside us would keep on turning around its axis and we wouldn’t miss out on anything because here, in each other’s arms, we had everything we needed. It was something I had never felt with anyone else, not even with my ex-boyfriend I thought I would end up marrying. There was something so gentle about the silence between Mingi and me, the understanding without spoken words, the warmth of a simple caress, the reminder that we were there for each other by the simplest things only made my chest tighten as the TV screen blurred, making me wonder whether I had gotten teary-eyed or just extremely sleepy.

Here in Mingi’s arms, in a dark living room lit up by the movie that we were watching for the nth time, I wondered if I could ever again trust that love existed, trust that there was indeed a person that was yours, meant to be with you without hurting you. I wondered if Mingi ever thought about it, if he wondered where his person was. Perhaps he didn’t care about such things and that’s why he wasted his days away by my side, smiling from ear to ear with glimmering eyes full of hope and something I could never truly understand. I grinned when I felt his feet rub against mine playfully, it was his way of letting me know that he wasn’t so lost in the movie that he wasn’t aware of me anymore. I sighed and relaxed into Mingi’s body, letting the doubtful thoughts and feelings simmer in a deep cavern of my heart for the rest of the evening.

 >> next chapter

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[irlnorthshaw]

Here's a question:

What are your Supa Strikas ships that you thought of and like, and think people wouldn't get?? (I'm curious lol-)

MIMPI... mimpi... be careful for what you're asking because you know how i am with shipping. guys i ship for life. like i dont give a damn if the ship's interaction is worth one cent... i make do with what i can and have!!! and after rewatching the show a couple billion times... i have gathered some INTERESTING ones.

liquido and riano

as you may know, i have watched "your latest trick" A LOT. yes they did interact in this one scene and never again but hear me out– they give me: liquido can't get over himself and thinks he can bag one of the finest man in the super league. but we all know riano, riano isn't having any of that. their convo would go something like this:

"hey, riano~" "goodbye, liquido."

el matador and blok

YES. yall heard me. this is also me showing some love to blok because some people seem to forget about him!!! what can i say, i love the idea of this dynamic. the thing is, sometimes i ship things in a way i wanna see more of them interacting and not necessarily picture them BEING together. if that makes sense.

these two are exactly that. i wanna see more of them interact bc lowkey i thought it was so wholesome when blok wanted to collaborate and promote fzzzl bmmm w the release of el matador's action figure.

DOOMATIC!!!!! OH YEAH BABY

if only automatic had more moments EUGH... this would've been so good. i personally pat myself on the back when i thought of this one bc i cooked HARD!!! they definitely cannot stand each other and to me, that's the best part of it all.

enemies to lovers who? more like enemies and i cannot believe we're also lovers.

skarra and north

the best way i can describe this one is. i am simply projecting myself on north and i love skarra. so... yeah #SHAMELESS

inyo and miss altivo

AKA PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE YURI!!! this one you guys HAVE to love. PLEASE!!! the potential is so insane here... inyo's big brains and chameleon-like tactics? combined with altivo's unwavering power over these dumb men for clicks and views??? COUNT ME TF IN!!!

we need more yuri in this fandom and THIS is where we should start.

brenda and lena

SPEAKING OF YURI... here's another one. except this time i am so surprised nobody has jumped on this yet??? futbol 360 yuri, i NEEEED IT!!! i need it now. they'd honestly be so cute and wholesome, moreover they definitely trade information abt the players for work

coach and the sheikh

now this one is a tad bit controversial BUT who am i without some controversial opinions!!! this is another case of i cannot see them BEING together, but i would kill to see them interact more. they are wayyy more entertaining than coach and vince. (THAT MIGHT ALSO BE CONTROVERSIAL) ohh... the way sheikh is so sassy w coach. maybe i just want more of the sultans... yeah thats it.

"losing your cool, coach? or just losing?" AND THEN PROCEED TO WALK AWAY LIKE THE BADDIE HE IS??? crazy stuff. i want more. NOW!!

belmont and von pushup

OKAY SO... storytime is i had an edit of these two a long time ago but i cant find it???? so consider it xander lost media at the moment. you guys need to hear me out on this because they would be SOOO PEAK!!! jock and goth but to another level i fear. as big and tough the iron tank guys are, i doubt they can stand grimm fc's haunted gimmicks.

plus von pushup works together w belmont to scare his own team bc he thinks its hilarious and perfect psychological training for them

AAAAAND THAT'S ALL... for now hehehe

sorry for the really long response but I HAD TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM!!!! i love crackships so much and especially in supa strikas bc we get a whole lot of freedom as a smaller fandom to do whatever. this was a very fun post to make, thank you so much mimpi for that lovely question!!! i always look forward to your input

[ngage2003]

To me, one of the most confusing assumptions in the Marble Hornets' fandom, is the idea that Brian's weird little doll is supposed to for some reason be representative of the Operator.

Why the hell would be the case though? We know for a fact that Brian hates the Operator with a passion and I can't imagine why he would leave a representation of it for Jay, and maybe most damning of all it has little sewn dots for eyes.

So, what the hell is up with that little doll thing?

Alright, so first things first, lets talk about how/where this doll shows up, because it mostly does so in two main places in Marble Hornets, in Brian's house, and with Tim's medical files.

Let's talk about that first time.

✦ Entry #18

Ah yes, by and large one of my favorite entries of season one, but before we get fully into it the whole that Brian's creepy little doll plays in it, lets talk about what precedes it.

Before this entry comes out, the ToTheArk channel releases one of its own best entries from season 1 of Marble Hornets, Signal. In this video, Jay is told rather explicitly to "come back" to Brian's house and to "find me," all while there is creepy audio about the narrator showing the listener a secret, taken from the short film Silent Snow, Secret Snow.

Entry 18 is of course the first place where we finally see Masky for the first time, but I don't believe this message is from him. Rather, I think Brian knew or told Masky to be at the house, and lured Jay there as a way to scare him, as endlessly throughout Season 1 that really is the prerogative of these two, to scare or intimidate Jay away from the mystery.

Alright, that makes sense, yeah? But, so, what's the deal with the doll?

It honestly could be placed there just to freak Jay out, but I just want to point out the fact that Brian has a habit of doing things with a sort of artistic flare. There is a logic/through line to these actions, to his videos and his choices, even if it isn't apparent to us the viewer.

-

Moving on, ✦ Entry 60,

Alright, so admittedly this one is the main fodder for my theory, but I think it incredibly interesting that Brian leaves the doll for Jay to find with the medical records.

Yeah sure, maybe he is pointing out the fact that Tim had seizures due to the Operator, ok, but most of that folder isn't really about Tim's seizures but instead his childhood and hospitalization, even including some papers about his therapy sessions from MUCH later in his institutionalization, about 7 years later. (If you want to read more about my thoughts on that, click here.)

Why the hell would Brian leave the doll here? He is a man of details and what is he trying to tell us with this one?

Well, Dearest Reader, allow me give my two cents.

Are you familiar with the concept of a therapy doll?

They are a specific exercise often used in child's therapy, where a small doll is usually decorated and used as a tool to help a kid express their feelings and practice social skills, working through them in a safe environment with the doll.

This doll can often represent an important person in the child's life, or even themself at times, acting as a way to help with internal emotional management as well as external! And we know based on Tim's records, "Pediatric Admission Profile," Page 2, "Section XI - Teaching" that Tim has emotional barriers to learning.

Dear Reader, I believe this curious little doll, which we always see in relation to Tim, (either with his protector alter or with his medical files,) which people in the fandom love to misconstrue as a representative the Operator in some sense, is his therapy doll, from all the way back when he was institutionalized.

I believe he kept it as he went through therapy, and it was just something that accidentally stayed with his medical file, along with his older records. I believe that Brian knew of it and decided to lay it in wait before Jay saw Masky as a way to unnerve him, but he thought of it in the first place because it was Tim's, and by extension it was Masky's too.

I think the reason it is un-decorated is because, while abandoned at the institution, Tim didn't have an adult he trusted or wanted to talk to who could be the doll, and he didn't have a solid self image either due to his dissociation. That is why it is blank.

This doll does not represent the monster of Marble Hornets, but rather its martyr.

[orchid-n-petals]

So I've already shared parts of this on a discord server, but I have to scream about Ketheric Thorm on here as well. Obviously spoilers about the character under the cut! It's a long one.

The entirety of act 2 is about him, right? Jaheira, Shadowheart and numerous other NPCs shit on him for his fickle faith. First Selune, then Shar, then, as we meet him, Myrkul. You hear about his changes of faith on a whim, you hear that he's the person responsible for the shadow curse, he is painted as a villain, plain and simple.

You can figure it out pretty early on that Isobel was resurrected and that she is his daughter; the detail as well that he wants Isobel alive is so on the nose, it gives him away completely but there are still a few questions that remain unanswered, mainly about his faith.

And then you get to the mausoleum and the picture assembles; this entire tragedy, the death of hundreds if not thousands and the complete ruination of a landscape was all, ALL because you had this absolutely wrenched, heartbroken father who had lost everything and nobody answered his grief. He was left woefully alone, the Goddess whose daughter his daughter was involved with did nothing to save Isobel.

Imagine outliving your wife and your daughter. Imagine dedicating your life to fight the Lady of Loss, your Lady of Silver's enemy, and then be left so completely alone and in silence with your grief, with your loss. It's so, so poetic how and why he turned from Selune, and it's so understandable as well; he broke. His spirit completely broke. He couldn't deal with that void of having lost the only two important people in his life, seemingly undeservedly so. He was going mad with this and a lot of his ire was likely targeted at Aylin who, in his eye, represented Selune; she's literally her daughter, after all, and it was implied that even before the deaths of his family, he sort of saw Aylin courting Isobel as Selune taking his daughter from him, despite his service. This relationship was clearly not seen by him as a boon of "giving his daughter to the Moon-maiden".

His ways in the past clearly didn't spare him from tragedy and having to cope with it (which he clearly didn't, he snapped under the weight of his grief). He was clearly angry and unable to do anything, furious and helpless, which is a dangerous combination. A good part of his first change of heart must have been fuelled by a sense of revenge.

But then Shar didn't provide any balm to his aching heart either. If you read his letters in Grymforge and in act 2, he is so focused on enacting the will of Shar because he believes that healing lies in oblivion. Everything would be easier if he could just forget, if the damn world could just forget, if nothing was remembered because without Melodia and Isobel, nothing was worth remembering.

Then came Myrkul. Literally the only god who was not only able, but WILLING to give back his daughter to him. Imagine spending your all, EVERYTHING you have to serve two gods who would not give a single shit about the greatest suffering in your life. You were basically nothing, your loyalty didn't matter for shit, everything that was taken from you amounted to no recognition whatsoever: you should simply cope and seethe. Your grief will not simply go unanswered (which is not inherently antagonising) but ignored.

And then comes this supposedly evil entity who can alleviate your pain just like that, snap of a finger and it's a done deal.

I am so serious when I say that I believe Ketheric's main incentive was to extend Aylin's immortality to Isobel as well. You can read in her diary that she feels a taint after having came back, and there are things not even Selune can cleanse, but at this point, Ketheric doesn't care about Selune, vengeance is secondary if not tertiary, he's done that war during his Shar years and what did it give him? Literally nothing.

He doesn't even care about the fact that Isobel is still her cleric. He cares about the single most important fact: Isobel is back. Life is worth living again, there is something for him, and it was not Selune or Shar who gave it to him but Myrkul, and for this singular gift, he would raze the world for the Lord of Bones. Like people can clown on him for being disloyal but the man has the loyalty of a dog bonded to its owner.

He is powerful and is willing to go to insane lengths for crumbs. What is raising a single life for a god? Nothing. It has happened and it will happen again. But Ketheric will go to the ends of the earth to serve the single god who actually listened to him. The one god who didn't ignore him.

He knows that what he does is not the morally upright thing! He is so insanely self-aware that allying with Orin and Gortash and doing this entire plot with them only to then betray them is morally reprehensible at the best of times, he knows that people hate him, etc-etc. He was a Selunite at one point and he's not stupid. He just doesn't care; it could be literal Asmodeus and he wouldn't care as long as he got what he wanted, no matter the price.

He is probably the only one from the three of the chosen who has complete clarity over his situation, he almost sways (if you pass the check during his confrontation), he is not an inherently evil man blinded by power.

But he is inherently loyal to those deserving, and as of the story's standing, completely broken by his grief. In his eyes, at this point, the only one deserving loyalty is the one who actually listened to him. Isobel lives. It doesn't matter that she hates him, that his entire life has fallen apart, that literally nothing else that is good has come of it, because Isobel lives.

I don't think he regrets a single thing. His consciousness might tear at him at the end, but I believe he would do everything over again, exactly as he did, because in the end, his daughter was brought back. Because what would a grieving, broken parent give to bring back their child? Everything. Absolutely everything. And it's such a simply given answer, no second thoughts, no doubts.

Nobody can tell me that this man is fickle. Nobody. This man was willing to burn the world to the ground, create a Boudica destruction layer all by himself for the one single thing he wanted. For any God that would listen.

I don't know, I just have a lot of thoughts about his character.

[vaguely-concerned]

I rewatched the recording I made of rye talking to solas for the last time before the big betrayal ('words of the dread wolf'), and it made me have to sit with my face in my hands for a while over the fact that like... rye did everything right, especially by the ideals of the mourn watch when it comes to interacting with spirits. he's cautious but not disrespectful, he gives gratitude and credit and even some companionable banter where it's due, he's willing to hear solas' point of view out even if he doesn't necessarily buy what he's selling, he stays on his guard the whole time but is honest and fair in his dealings with him as far as possible. and it doesn't matter one fucking bit!!! you can make no mistakes, commit no sins, and still fail, still be at the mercy of a lack of mercy and pure callous circumstance!!!!! this catastrophe is coming for you no matter what. there is no perfect thing you could have done, no exact right thing for you to say, no amount of careful or clever you could have been that could have outtricked these circumstances or would have saved you or anyone else. (nothing you could do to save varric either, but you don't know about that yet. it's just that awful feeling in the back of your mind you keep shying away from like it burns you.)

that's... such a painful but important lesson to have to learn in some ways, I think. both forgiving yourself for what you couldn't know until you did, what you couldn't do and never could have done (should never have been made to face, in a better kinder world), and having to accept the shattered illusion of perfect control and safety ever becoming achievable -- if only I do everything right, everything will be okay. and if things aren't okay, that's because I did something wrong and if I were better the bad thing wouldn't have happened; the logic and grief and desperation to hold on to goodness of a child. the logic solas is unable to let go of from the moment he took physical form and to this day (for all his age and experience I can fix this, I can still fix this is the helpless cry of a child, just one dangerously amplified by near-divine levels of power and a very clever mind), and that rook has to learn to let go of or else drown. the examination of that central question of like... you can act with the best of intentions in this world and with as much information as possible and there will still be unforeseen consequences. bad things will still happen. sometimes it won't even be anyone's fault, no one ever meant for it to happen like that. but it did. it did. how will you live with that? in this game is so GOOD. what a theme