#brain simply does not wanna do any art today

[findmeinthefallair]

I will need to pick one of these up on the way to the work meeting tomorrow. Been so sluggish today that I am capable of live slug reactions

[enhyupn]

⧉ enhypen as your classmate that has a crush on you! ᝢ ∷

pairings: ot7 enhypen members x gn!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence in jay’s one

genre: pure fluff + high school!au

a/n this also. Was in my drafts 💭 i was contemplating if i should post this or not but here i am 😫 i Post too much sorry everyone iJust have no life outside of school 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️

⌗ heeseung

heeseung is definitely the type of person that tries to talk to the person he sits beside all the time

he nudges you all the time and whispers your name whenever he wants your attention

and the fact he had a huge crush on you also added to it

enhypen always have to listen to him since he never ever stops talking about you. like ever.

“oh my god you will never know what y/n told me when i—” and suddenly he’s cut off by the rest of them yelling “we know!”

you never snap at him because you kinda... enjoy the attention

maybe thats how you knew you kinda liked him too, since you could never let sunoo get away with this if he ever called for your name in class

your relationship only stopped there for a while, since the two of you lowkey scared of each other

“no i feel like y/n’s gonna snap at you one day, like completely just punch you in the face” jay once told him and ever since, he’s never looked at you the same

you think heeseung’s just intimidating, the amount of times you��ve jumped in your seat whenever he’s called your name is numerous

although, one day you fell asleep in class due to the fact you left your english essay last minute the night before

heeseung, noticing you drooling on the table, wrote down the notes for you

he handed them to you after class and you were so touched that you couldn’t stop telling sunoo about it

“his hand writing’s so neat and—” “i get it, you can shut up now!”

you even told heeseung his hand writing was the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen for a week straight

he was happy of course, but honestly unsure how he was supposed to reply to the compliment

he figured out by himself that all he needed to do was ask you if you wanted him to write your name

“heeseung, i mean it! i can’t get over how you write ‘the’, it’s just so— so neat!” “oh really? let me write your name out”

being the smooth guy that he was, wrote down his number instead of your name

and you being the oblivious person you were, ended up being utterly confused

“heeseung i think—” “I WROTE MY NUMBER ON PURPOSE”

you never really got over the shock, nonetheless still took his number and texted him that night

you ended that night by kicking your feet in the air with your face feeling like it was on fire

oh, you also ended up planning a date with heeseung on saturday, not a big deal

it was actually the biggest deal ever

the rest of the head canons are under the cut!

⌗ jay

jay was 100% the type to tease someone when he had a crush to get their attention

he wanted all your attention and the way he got that was through telling you your portrait of a dog looked stupid

well yeah, it did but he didn’t need to point it out

everyone in your art class knew jay had a raging crush on you

he just didn’t know how to express it

his friend jake told him the way into your heart was talking about a mutual interest

jake was, sort of, right about his advice. well, until you and jay started bickering about a character you loved but he oh so hated

“mabel in gravity falls was annoying and weird” “jay if you say that one more time i will shove this paint brush down your throat”

jake, who was trying to play cupid, could not understand why he was so bad at this

i mean jay had no problem getting girls to like him but you? did you genuinely hate jay or something?

“no jake i don’t hate jay” well that answered his question

“he’s just weird” “weird? i’m weird?” “yeah do i need to repeat it again? park jay is weird” you two were a match made in heaven

jay didn’t know when but he had a revelation, maybe this wasn’t the approach he should take to get your attention

after that, he started to be extremely nice to you

it definitely scared you

“d-did i do anything?” “what no? i’m just saying your painting looks beautiful y/n” “oh no something’s definitely going to happen”

he was finally tired of trying so hard while ending up with nothing achieved

jake, being the one out of the two who had the most realistic ideas, decided to give him one more tip

“do you think it’ll work?” “it’s fool proof”

the tip was simply him asking you out to the movies, something that was a little too forward for jay

“no i don’t think it’ll work jake” “jay i swear to god you are going to end up single For the Rest of your Life”

it took... many attempts... and many insults towards you for him to even get the first line out

“Y/NPLEASEGOTOTHEMOVIESWITHME” “the movies? sure” “wait, really? i meant it in a romantic way by the way” “oh? sure i’m free on friday”

turns out you were into him too i mean it was kinda obvious from the way you dealt with those insults

even when you started dating after that date, the insults never stopped

it just now targeted jake, who really is just asking for it at this point from the amount of times he’s asked for credit for ‘getting both of you together’

he was never getting that credit

⌗ jake

jake would leave secret love letters in your locker every time he walked past it

i mean the action wasn’t as secret as he thought it was due to the fact you knew he was the one leaving those letters

for god’s sake the boy was literally in almost all your classes, you were walking the same way as him when he slipped those letters in???

you still were very grateful for them

without them, i think you would of not coped with school

they were all incredibly detailed and even had little doodles drawn around them

you once had remembered he mentioned that he wrote these in the morning before school started during first period

he also told you he was really really shy you found it incredibly cute

the only way he could speak to you without melting was through these letters

somehow you decided that the best thing to do was put replies in his lockers too

his first reaction was complete embarrassment, the fact you knew who he was had his face heating up like nothing else

but he soon realised you didn’t think it was weird or creepy, you actually looked forward to his letters every school day

he mustered up so much courage after that to talk to you in person, to personally thank you

“THANK YOU Y/N!” “NO IT’S FINE JAKE YOU DON’T HAVE TO BOW”

he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck before pulling something out from his back pocket

the final letter in his series of love letters showing up in his hands

“open it” his shy smile making your brain Melt in endearment

the letter contained the usual, the hello y/n! and the usual chatter about his day

what you didn’t expect was the fact he had asked you out at the bottom of the letter

“y/n i’ve liked you for a while now, will you go out with me?” you read out loud before realising what you had just read. “OH MY GOD YOU ASKED ME OUT?”

you pull him into a tight hug, something that jake heated up at

“is this a yes?” “are you seriously asking that right now? of course we are”

you two became the most sickly sweet couple ever

plus the fact you still placed letters in each other’s lockers made enhypen gag (in an affectionate way)

they were just jealous nobody was putting letters in their lockers

⌗ sunghoon

sunghoon always seemed to be there whenever you needed help

especially since you two helped out at the library together every wednesday

he looked forward to it every week, you could tell from the fact ever tuesday he’d remind his friends that the next day he was seeing you again

“tomorrow’s wednesday you know what that means” “yes sunghoon we know, you’re seeing y/n tomorrow”

whenever he’s finished his work (which he does at an incredibly fast pace) he always seems to end up trailing you

constantly asking if you need help, desperate to do something

you find it endearing, always ending up chuckling at his whiney words

“y/n! do you need any help i’m finished” “not at the moment but if you wanna chat i can!”

out of all the enhypen members i feel like sunghoon would have the softest feelings for his crush

like even outside of your assigned library work, he’d constantly check up on you during lunch

“here y/n! it’s a packet of those gummies you like” “how sweet that you remembered! thanks for them”

you, even with sunghoon’s constant affection, couldn’t realise he had a crush on you

you thought that he was like that with everyone, you didn’t think that you were particularly special to get any type of unique treatment from park sunghoon

it wasn’t until your classmate asked you if you and sunghoon were dating

“hey are you and sunghoon dating?” “ummmm no why” “oh my friend wanted to know, they like him that’s why”

that didn’t sit well with you.

you thought long and hard about it but there was literally no reason for you to be bothered about it

i mean? you didn’t like him like that right

wrong

you decided to ask his dearest friend heeseung for help

“heeseung what do i do why do i feel like this” “i don’t know ask sunghoon” “...you aren’t helping”

heeseung being the big blabber mouth he is, told sunghoon all of this

“y/n won’t shut up about you” “really? you’re telling me the truth right? please don’t lie to me”

from many many uplifting comments from his friends, sunghoon was able to talk to you without mentioning the library

“so... what did you do in art class today?” “oh? i don’t do art” i mean at least he tried

after a few attempts he finally hit the nail on the head, securing his place as one of your friend... not the position he was aiming for but at least it was something

that’s when he prepared himself for the final boss (that’s what heeseung called the plan)

interrupting the conversation you both had on what disney show was the best, he popped the big question

“no but mulan was pretty good too also do you wanna go on a date with me” “oh sure! that was really random though”

i mean his timing was incredibly terrible but you were over the moon

even with the calm messages the both of you had sent, the two of you were screaming at your screen, unable to contain any composure

i mean it’s sunghoon... even if he handed you a piece of trash to as his way of asking you out you’d still say yes

⌗ sunoo

no but sunoo definitely asks your friend what your favourite song is and puts it on his story so you can slide up and be like “omg!! i love this song”

OH he also texts you randomly at 11:11 and 22:22 so you think it’s a sign

he so so so desperately wants your attention all the time

he goes up to you at lunch even when you’re with all your friends and makes conversation with you making you forget all about your friends

he sits in front of you in maths! so he knows how bad you are at the subject, he can hear your muttering about how you got a question wrong every morning but don’t Worry! he finds it adorable for some reason

at first he started to pretend he wouldn’t understand a question so he could find a way to talk to you

“hey y/n! what’s six times five again” “are you serious?”

he’s actually kinda good at maths so you’re always confused on how he doesn’t understand basic multiplication but can get 90% on the algebra test

he loves, and i mean loves, talking to you during class

even if the teacher scolds him he doesn’t care, it’s simply the highlight of his day

he gets so pouty and jealous when you excuse him in the middle of a conversation to talk to someone else

he gets jealous especially whenever you talk to his friends instead of him

“hey ni-ki! what did you get for number five?” “oh i got—” “I GOT TWELVE FOR THAT ONE Y/N!”

you kinda adore it not gonna lie

at one point your teacher got incredibly fed up with you two talking class

so! sunoo resorted to passing notes to you

‘y/n did you hear? oh my god, jihan from the maths class beside us told me that yeojin from the year above us got suspended because she started fighting the teacher over her phone. can you believe that? i mean i would of done the same thing’

it was quite clear sunoo talked a lot even through notes too

i mean as if you didn’t reply with the same energy

‘I HEARD THAT TOO!! gowon from her class told me, plus! intak said he saw the whole thing too... omg honestly i think yeojin’s so cool for doing that. maybe i should fight our maths teacher if they try and yell at us for talking again?’

they were one of the many things sunoo loves you for <3

one day ni-ki, being the number one shipper of you two, decides to play Cupid on the two of you

he drew out a note that looked too similarly to a middle school confession text and placed it on sunoo’s desk

“do you like me y/n... tick one. yes. no.” “do you like it?” “what the fuck is this”

i mean sunoo Took it anyways, he knew you’d find it funny too

as usual, you prepared yourself for a long class of sliding notes to each other

you looked forward to it, you found it as a source of entertainment and you liked talking to sunoo anyways

“pssst, y/n!” “thanks— wait did you give me the right one?”

after many whisper shouts and glares from your teacher, he finally convinced you that they were the real deal

obviously. You chose yes

that’s how you landed a date with sunoo to a picnic at han river

sunoo and you were. Kinda.... thankful for ni-ki

you two just never wanted to admit his stupid cupid-ry worked

⌗ jungwon

definitely the type to ask you “what homework did we get?” so he can start a conversation with you

replies to your private story with like “omg that’s so funny” or like “PLSSSSS me too”

you do exactly the same with his ps honestly

he always talks to you before class and you have heated discussions about the homework the night before

YOU ALWAYS ALWAYS end up sitting beside him in every class you have together

like it’s not even on purpose anymore (it’s actually fate)

always lends you pens and pencils when you forget them

he also never Asks for them back so you Have like a stash of them at home beside your bed because you always forget to give them back to him

you and jungwon are the kids in pe class that walk around the track gossiping

“jake told me that half of the soccer team aren’t getting along these days because they all like the same person” “no way really? what about their team work, isn’t there some sort of huge match next week?”

the gossip only stays between you two but only ever during pe

you two talk about more, interesting things outside of pe

since you two are in basically every class together, you walk with him everywhere

once when you were about to trip over, jungwon caught you and when you realised you were in his arms, you just blankly stared at him for a good five seconds

once you got off of him your face started to heat up so fast jungwon’s too

every time you have homework due and you didn’t do it he lends you his word

“y/n take this! it’s the french homework from last class” “thanks so much jungwon!”

the real story starts with when you and him were practicing speaking french in the library

you, being terrible at french, needed some sort of help with this

jungwon decided that, even though he completely sucks at french, he should tutor you!

and there you were, ten reasons why i hate you style, in the library struggling on how to pronounce beaucoup

“bow-cewp” “good job y/n!” “jungwon i know for a fact that you don’t know if i’m saying this right”

you stuck up with it because, well because he’s jungwon

“je t'aime you”

i mean you were Terrible. at french but even the stupidest person in the world could figure that out

“i like you too jungwon, now help me with question six” “YOU COULD UNDERSTAND THAT?” “i had a paris phase when i was younger of course i did”

turns out the Parisian style bakery across the street is the perfect date on an afternoon after school

what was even more perfect was that you got 85% on your test with the help of your boyfriend

⌗ ni-ki

he was your partner in cookery class, the both of you had no cooking skills in your bones but you still made it work

you were in the class since your family constantly nagged at you for being terrible in the kitchen

while ni-ki enrolled because he needed the something to show his friends after school

ni-ki thinks he fell for you at first sight

you were baking cookies as your first task and you basically saved him by reminding him to put on oven gloves before getting the cookies out

“that’s the bare minimum” jay tells him. “i don’t care... you wouldn’t know what love feels like”

he looks forward to cooking class because if you every week

he even has it scheduled on his calendar

honestly it’s kind of a miracle the food you two make is some sort of eatable

he always asks you for help even if it’s the simplest thing ever

“y/n? which one is a cup?” “the one that literally says one cup?”

you don’t care though since you think it’s cute

you always end up doing most of the cooking and chopping whil ni-ki just washes the dishes and watches the pot boil which eagerly waits for the food to finish

you’ve met all of enhypen before since ni-ki likes them to gather around your creations and take pictures of them together

when enhypen first collected him from cookery class, they asked him which one of your classmates were you

he literally shyly pointed at you as he hid his face with his hair

“them” “huh? ni-ki who are you pointing at” “them, beside the fridge”

your final exam was to decorate and bake a cake

it’s safe to say from the many burnt cakes you and ni-ki have done, you two were in trouble

you both wanted that passing grade so you practiced almost everyday after classes the week before

he was in charge of the icing, apparently according to him it was his specialty

“look y/n!” “how cute! a little unreadable but very cute”

finally. the Day of the exam came

you both had to prepare and bake the cake together under two hours

you were lucky that you both weighed the ingredients before you arrived

it was definitely. The most stressful two hours you two had ever felt

it also didn’t help that ni-ki shooed you away when he was icing the cake

by the end of it, your face was Dusted with flour while ni-ki’s apron had butter and frosting stains all over it

you were instructed by ni-ki and even your teacher, to stand where the fridge was, out of your sight to see what he was doing to the cake

you were hazily scrolling through your phone when jungwon snapped you back into reality

turns out jungwon was outside the room the whole exam because ni-ki told him he needed support and having him there comforted him

almost instantly after your jungwon interaction, ni-ki called you from your table, excitedly waving his arms in the air

“y/n! y/n! i’m finished!” “perfect! let me—”

your eyes widened realising his cake didn’t say anything like ‘happy birthday’ like you two had planned

instead the icing spelt out a prettily written out ‘y/n, will you go on a date with me?’

your eyes seemed to water at the gesture, unsure why you got so emotional at icing

“n-ni-ki... that’s so c-cute” “why are you crying? oh my god you hate me don’t you?”

it took you ten minutes to stop sobbing (happy tears) and you gladly accepted his proposal

so now you got a Good grade and an amazing boyfriend that can... sort of! Cook

while eating the cake you were reminded with something, remembering some words from earlier

wait did mr lee know about this?

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

hi I’m here to review the Clementine comic. it’s not good.

Does this even need an introduction? You know why I’ve gathered you all here today. You know the comic exists, and you probably know that it’s not great and we’re all upset about it. 

Myself included. I am not okay. At all. 

Skybound could’ve literally spit in my face and I’d come out feeling better than I did reading this comic, because this comic is an insult to the original Telltale games and Clementine as a character. 

This comic is a fancy fanfic. Glorified fanfiction. It’s not canon, and Skybound and Tillie can pretend that it is, but it’s not. Bold of them to assume we’d just accept this from people who didn’t work on the original games and never wrote for Clementine before, and based on this comic alone, any chance of us taking it seriously is gone. 

I’m gonna go through every single page, every panel, of this comic and give you my review. So I guess if you’re worried about spoilers [though at this point why would you?] then be warned, spoilers for the entire comic ahead. 

I also wanna add that I have nothing against Tillie Walden. I know a lot of dingdongs are harassing her on insta over this comic and that’s not okay. You telling her how much you hate her isn’t going to change anything. If anything, you keep being assholes to her and she’s just gonna block everything out, even things simply critiquing her work in hopes that it helps her improve. 

You’re allowed to be upset about the comic and share your feelings about it, but don’t take it out on the actual human being like that. Besides, like I’ve said before, if Tillie wasn’t gonna make the comic, Skybound would’ve found someone else to do. This was coming no matter what because Skybound wants that coin. 

That being said, I’m not going to hold back my opinions on this comic. Skybound and Tillie made this comic, they put it out there and asked for money for it, therefore I’m allowed to explain why it’s garbage as well as ponder over the questionable intent and whether or not Tillie actually has played these games. Y’know, it’s like how I have nothing against Kent, but sometimes he says things I disagree with and well, y’know how it goes. 

Alright, this is gonna be long, so let’s go--

The first few shots we get are of the school, two people sleeping, and Clementine’s empty bed. Nothing super note-worthy, we have no idea who is sleeping in the beds, it’s just there to establish that it’s early and everyone’s still asleep. 

The drawing of the school looks fine? Not super accurate, but I can give it a pass since it’s a few years later, I assume. What I can’t give a pass is how you managed to already mess up on the first page of your comic. 

Because..... why are you implying that Clementine’s room is upstairs? First of all, seems kinda dumb to put Clem, who has only one leg and has to walk with crutches, upstairs. Also, if you’ve played TFS and paid any attention to where her room is actually located [the dorms] then you’d know there isn’t any stairs leading to their floor. It’s the side building next to the admin building, you walk through the door, go down the hall, take a left and their dorm is right there sooo..... 

Oh right, it’s probably done this way so that we can have such a suspenseful moment where Clementine is sneaking out while the others are asleep and her foot makes a creeeeeeakk that could wake everyone up, thwarting her plans of abandoning everyone quietly so she doesn’t have to deal with any consequences. 

Because yeah, Clementine is sneaking out with all of her supplies because apparently, she’s been planning an escape from this place for a while. 

And just look at how gosh darn happy she is about it. You can’t see or hear me, but know that I’m laughing. Don’t worry, I will talk about her abandoning everyone later.

But first, I have a gripe with Clementine's design in this comic. It doesn’t look like her. This art of her right here is the most accurate we get throughout all 12 pages, and it’s the best looking, too. 

Moving on, she slams the door shut while this walker changes faces and hair between panels, so that’s cool. I will say, I like the idea of the Ericson crew putting spikes on the door. That’s fun. 

Though Clementine slamming the door shut while trying to sneak out seems counter productive but it fits with the theme this comic has of inconsistency, so it works. 

Next we have Clementine going to what I believe is the fishing shack by the river, and she’s going through some things that she’s stashed away, telling us that she’s been planning this escape for a while. 

Oh good, she has a map. Well at least now she won’t get lost out there in the woods while she makes her escape... also that last panel with her profile.... why does it look so funny? Like this page of the comic doesn’t look too bad, but there is something off putting about her eye there and how she has zero expression. 

And it turns out that rustle was a walker, and Clementine is super inconvenienced by this and gives us our first piece of witty dialogue.

Yeah you dumb walker, can’t you see Clementine is busy running away from home and abandoning all of her loved ones without a single goodbye so she doesn’t have to witness the consequences of her selfish actions?? Gosh, so rude.

Just a heads up, the dialogue in this comic is stilted, emotionless, and bland. The words have no flow, no charm, and never feel like they should be coming out of Clementine’s mouth. Then again, the upcoming graphic novels this is tied to are for young adult/middle graders so I guess we have to dumb everything down so their baby brains can process it. 

.....Why does her face look like that? Also, interesting that she decided to move her ponytail to the other side of her head.... which is a thing that happens throughout this comic, her hair will randomly change sides. 

I believe it’s a metaphor for her changing and inconsistent personality. 

So yeah, Clementine is just making off with the supplies she gathered [I’m sure Ericson doesn’t need ‘em anyway] and she’s just so gosh darn annoyed at all these small inconveniences bothering her.... because it’s just too early for this. 

.....Again, why does her face look like that?

I’m sorry, like I get it, Tillie’s style is supposed to be purposely messy yet minimal but it doesn’t work. When you do a comic in a more messy style, usually it has charm and heart put into it. Effort goes into the messy look, and when things are minimal, that usually means more clean, yeah? So you put them together and just..... that is nothing resembling Clementine’s face. 

Can we just--

Look at canon Clementine’s face. Look at the way her eyebrows are shapes, how wide her eyes are with her eye lashes. The dirt on her skin, the lines-- there is so much personality in her features. It doesn’t matter if she’s wearing a neutral expression or she’s expressing anger or joy or sorrow or whatever. 

Now, is it fair to compare a model of Clem from the games to the Clem in this comic? Well, I assume that if Tillie is doing this comic, she would use references from the game to ensure that Clementine is recognizable, especially now that she’s no longer wearing her signature hat. 

So why does she look like this? Why do I look at these drawings of her face and see nothing but a pair of eyes, a nose, and a mouth? You might as well draw me a simple smiley face. And I get that it’s a comic, and it’s a lot of work to draw the same character over and over again and you gotta cut corners somewhere, but maybe put some effort into the close up shots of her face so that we can actually see it’s her? 

Other fan artists have made comics in their styles that shine bright with Clementine’s personality, so what happened here? 

Anyway, surprise..... it’s not a walker annoying Clementine. 

........Why does AJ look like that??? I’m sorry, I hate to do the same thing I just did but--

Just because you put Clementine’s hat on AJ that doesn’t automatically make it him. I just.... wow. This feels like there wasn’t a single reference involved, like if someone gave Tillie a basic description of AJ and she just did this. 

But appearances aside, what is AJ saying? He says that he knew it, that Clementine’s leaving and I cannot stand this dialogue. It’s unnatural. Again, I know you wanna dumb it down for all of us because I guess we dumb.... but this conversation does not feel natural. 

“I knew it. You’re leaving.” “AJ....” “I’m coming.”

Even if you changed it to, “I’m coming with you.” it would sound more natural. Hell, he doesn’t even question WHY she’s leaving, he just stands there like “I’m coming” like??? I’m sorry, have you ever heard a single word this murder baby has said? I assume you have because I assume you actually played TFS, right? Soooo.... what happened here?

.....whY DO THEIR FACES LOOK LIEK THAT KSAJDLKJAS:LKDJLKASJD:L--

So now we’re getting into it.... into the bullshit. 

Clementine tells AJ to go back to the school, and AJ says that she wasn’t even going to say goodbye..... and then more bad dialogue that sound unnatural when you try to fucking read it. 

First off.... AJ’s reaction to Clementine attempting to leave is barely anything. Again, I hate to keep questioning if you actually played TFS, but AJ would throw a fucking fit if he caught Clementine out here ALONE like this, attempting to leave. 

And then he says “Like last time? You were going to come back?” this sentence makes my brain hurt. I just.... “Like last time, right? You’re coming back?” UGH

Wow, I feel nothing. 

I’m sitting here watching these two imposters with fucked up faces who are supposed to be Clementine and AJ and I feel nothing. 

I’m not even going to comment on the faces anymore. You can see it. You know. 

So yeah... AJ tells her the #1 rule, and reminds her that she promised.

Y’know.... she promised that she would never leave him again? Remember? At the McCarroll ranch? That flashback that was in TFS? The one you would watch if you played the game? 

Why is she looking straight at me when she should be looking at AJ as she says this? Is this Clementine’s way of telling me she’s sorry for what a shitty direction this is taking? I wouldn’t know because her face isn’t doing anything. Just because you draw a couple of tears that doesn’t mean I’m feeling the emotional heartbreak you’re attempting to convey. 

I don’t have enough middle fingers for this.

Well, my hat’s off to you. Ya did it. Ya fucked up everything single part of Clementine’s character in the span of two pages, I’m almost impressed. 

First off, the baby thing is weird. Why is she calling him that? She’s never called him that, which you should know.

Second, she’s not happy and that’s why she’s leaving. Clementine isn’t happy, and AJ can’t make her happy. Ericson can’t make her happy. So she’s going to go out on the road to.... what, be unhappy by herself? 

I’m sorry, but apparently we need a few reminders here of who Clementine is, because this isn’t her. 

This is Clementine. 

Clementine fought for years to find a home, something she hasn’t had since she was an eight-year-old girl before the apocalypse. The motor-inn wasn’t a home, the cabin wasn’t home, the ski-lodge, Howe’s, Wellington, Richmond, Prescott, none of them were home. 

She struggled for years, dealing with trauma after trauma while out on the road. She went from group to group, watching people she cared about die and she was powerless to do anything about it. Whenever she let her guard down and become comfortable, it bit in her in the ass and left her heartbroken.

She was there when AJ was born. She grew close to Rebecca while she was pregnant, she let herself do that even after everything she went through with Christa. Clementine had a bond with AJ even before he was born, and after Rebecca died, she did what she could to keep him safe, despite play choice. 

She cried when she thought AJ died and when she found him in that car again. She swore to protect him, to raise him right and love him. All they had was each other. 

And when she joined the new frontier and AJ got sick, she risked everything to save him and she was devastated when they took him away from her. When she found out he was alive, she is willing to go as far as helping Lingard overdose [INJECTING HIM HERSELF IF SHE HAS TO] to figure out his location. She did shitty things to find him, she killed people at McCarroll Ranch to find him again. 

Clementine raised him and he is her family, do you understand that? She went to hell and back for him, she taught him how to protect himself, and even though she made mistakes she sacrificed everything for him. She promised him that they would have a home of their own one day, she talked about how much she wished for a world where she didn’t have to worry about fighting and killing and AJ could just be a happy kid. 

She fought for Ericson, she watched her friends die or become mutilated by someone from her past. She allowed herself to be vulnerable enough to pursue a romantic relationship with Louis or Violet because she felt safe with them, felt safe at Ericson because it’s their home now. 

And when Clementine was bit, she thought she was going to die but she still fought to make sure AJ would be safe and happy without her and it was heartbreaking. She’s dying and the only thing she cares about is AJ. Not herself, not what’s going to happen to her after she dies or turns... no, she tries to make AJ smile again, she makes sure he remembers the rules, and she tells him that she loves him. 

Then he cuts off her leg, and she survives. AJ saved her fucking life, and she got to wake up at home and live to see her family again. She got to push AJ on a tire swing, she got to eat a hot meal and laugh with her friends, she got to make plans with her lover/best friend for what’s next for Ericson, and she got to talk to AJ and tell him the truth... and she asked him if she did a good job, and he’s honest with her right back. 

Hell, she tells him to keep her hat. Her iconic hat. The one thing she has left of her father, possibly her more cherished item. She lets him keep it. 

The last time we see Clementine, she’s happy. She’s sitting on the steps by herself, staring at her family with such fondness in her eyes and a smile on her face because she finally did it. She finally found a home where she can breathe. She has a bed to sleep in, she has AJ with her, she has a boyfriend/girlfriend who loves her and who she loves back, she has friends she can rely on. 

Clementine smiles, and lets out a small laugh. 

She doesn’t have to run anymore. 

And now you have the balls to tell me that AJ and Ericson don’t make Clementine happy anymore. 

She abandons everything to go back out on the road again, and that’s proof enough for me that you don’t understand a damn thing about Clementine or her journey. 

“ I don't even know the person I'm talking about... It's like all we have in common is the same name.” 

....Anyway.

Wow, Clementine found a car and kept is stashed. How lazy and convenient for this bullshit plot. 

And this is the part where I have to tell this comic to fuck off. 

What, you think if you throw in an incredibly inaccurate flashback next to a current pair of hugging Clem and AJ that I’ll feel anything but anger? That flashback is a slap to the face. It’s snowing, but the only time we’ve seen snow is in S2 when AJ was a literal new born, so why is he that big? Is that supposed to be from ANF because that ALSO doesn’t look like that AJ, and that’s not the outfit Clementine had on... AND there was no snow. This is cheap and meaningless. 

Any fan of the series who has played through the games could tell you this. 

So.... AJ runs into the woods and then we get this garbage.

This comic is awful. It misses the point of everything TFS, and the rest of the series, stood for. There is no heart here. I feel no happiness in reading it, and I don’t detect any passion behind it. It’s a lifeless comic that retcons everything in order to throw AJ away and start fresh with a new adventure for Clementine that makes no sense because the cow isn’t profitable unless it’s milked. 

This isn’t canon, and it won’t ever be canon, and honestly? At this point, I have no faith in the graphic novel trilogy. It will take a lot to do a turn around from this, and I don’t even know if that’s possible. 

Again, to reiterate, I don’t have anything personal against Tillie Walden herself. She’s just doing her job, and from what I’ve seen of her as a person, she seems like a sweetheart. I don’t want anyone giving her shit because I think the comic isn’t good or that you agree with me. All of my anger is directed at the comic itself, her work, not specifically her.... and a little bit at Skybound, because they’re the reason this is even a thing in the first place. 

So yeah.... there ya have it. 

[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: Tropey Tuesday

Over the past year my pandemic brain decided it would produce happy chemicals exclusively by reading and writing Stony fanfiction. On the advice of counsel, I decided to take my happy chemicals where I could get’em. And the result is that I’ve had the tremendous pleasure of reading some absolutely incredible works of art by some immensely talented people. And since it’s @cap-ironman RecWeek, I figured this is as good of an excuse as any to make some posts recommending my favs (and try to keep self-recs to a minimum, but I’m only human).

I skipped Multiverse Monday since I’m still not well-versed enough in the multiverse to talk about it with any kind of recommendational authority, but today is Tropey Tuesday, and so I would like to share some fics from my all-time-favorite, major-reason-I-bother-with-the-MCU, gets-me-every-time trope:

Found Family

And so, without further ado, here are some Found Family Stony fics that I simply adore.

Avengers Family Ficlets

Author: elwenyere

Word Count: 8,548

Summary: “You built a neural network that analyzes squash,” Bruce said flatly, “and you attached it to a laser.” A collection of short stories set in the extended Domestic Avengers Universe.

Why You Should Read It:

Thing number one that you should understand about me is that I would be perfectly happy with a story about body-less entities making funny quips at each other in  a featureless void, and anything else is just a bonus. Elwenyere’s stories consistently get the banter down so unbelievably, ridiculously well that when you find out they also have heart, creativity, well-developed characters, and so much damn feeling in them, it feels like an embarrassment of riches.

Go read all of their stuff, please, but this one’s a great place to start. It’s got everything you could possibly want in a fic: over-competitive pumpkin carving, emotional hospital confessions, Christmas decorations that come to life and attack people, crab dip, Steve Rogers accidentally ruining Thanksgiving through the sheer power of his own snark, and most importantly, a bunch of human disasters that somehow make a beautiful family together.

Executive Party

Author: copperbadge

Word Count: 3,228

Summary: Tony's terrible December is suddenly looking up.

Why You Should Read It:

Copperbadge is another author where you should read everything they’ve put out there. They’ve got this phenomenally creative mind that manages to consistently draw out deeply human stories that can kinda catch you off-guard in the places they find touching moments. You might’ve heard of their very popular Foodieverse, which is an incredibly creative AU with the Avengers in the food service industry, but this is the one I come to whenever I’m looking to indulge in my favorite trope.

Tony’s looking forward to spending the night before SI breaks for Christmas doing paperwork. Steve gets the Avengers to have an impromptu video game Christmas Party in his office instead. Cb’s also got a gift for banter (I have a type when it comes to writers, ok?), and the little details like Steve’s carnage record on GTA, Natasha’s Russian appreciation for country music, and Steve’s SHIELD break-up mixtape make it just a goddamn delight to read.

patchwork people

Author: itsAllAvengers

Word Count: 28,247

Summary: It was a pretty well-known fact that Tony Stark had control issues.It was far less well-known why, though.

CW: Past abuse and non-con (not by main pairing)

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re the kind of person who regularly thinks to themself “You know what Tony Stark needs? More trauma,” then this is the fic  for you.

Tony’s got some serious trust issues and PTSD thanks to some shitty, shitty exes. This is the story about how Tony learns to trust again, Avenger by Avenger, in his new Found Family. Come for the Whump, stay for the found family insomnia infomercial parties and Steve Rogers getting arrested for enacting some sweet, sweet karmic justice.

And now we get into a sub-genre of Found Family that is also a huge weakness of mine: Tony thinks he’s only tolerated instead of wanted, and his found family convinces him otherwise.

Some Things Shouldn’t Be a Chore

Author: scifigrl47

Word Count: 22,187

Summary: Steve takes things like personal responsibility and respect seriously. Tony's got people he pays to take care of that kind of thing, and anyway, he's pretty sure that he's going to die of some exotic disease in his workshop, because Dummy's still a little spotty about what is 'clean' enough to put on an open wound.  The rest of the Avengers are in this for personal gain, except for Clint, he just enjoys being a dick. And some things shouldn't be a chore.

Why You Should Read It:

Honestly it feels a bit like cheating to recommend the first work in scifigrl47′s tremendously popular Toasterverse, since I’m pretty sure a lot of people who don’t even like or regularly read fanfiction have liked this one, even indirectly. Sci is so ludicrously good at building an engaging, creative, character-driven universe that this series is responsible for most of the fanon you know and love about MCU fanfics. Tony’s bot Butterfingers? Sci made him up for this story. Thor’s love of Pop Tarts? Clint the vent goblin? All sci. They’re just that damn good at world-building.

In this fic, the Avengers try out a chore chart. Hilarity and feels ensue. I don’t want to say anymore and risk spoiling it because if you’ve managed to get far enough in Stony fanfiction to read this post and haven’t yet read the Toasterverse, I want to keep the experience pristine for you to enjoy. Please read this. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll reserve a hypothetical genie wish to make this series the actually canon MCU (God knows I have).

Hold the Things You Wanna Say

Author: SailorChibi

Word Count: 6,316

Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay. He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really. What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always. This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.

CW: Abuse, Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting

Why You Should Read It:

SailorChibi’s one of those authors I’ve been meaning to get around to reading all their stuff for, but it’s tricky when you have a short attention span and an author that is just so damn prolific. They’re a multi-fandom maven consistently putting out some really great stuff, and they’re absolutely worth checking out.

This story’s a real yank on the heartstrings, and as someone who can really identify with Tony’s fear of failing the people he cares about, the point in the story where he reaches his low is just unbelievably poignant. But the warmth and the wholesomeness of the end made my heart grow three sizes the day I read it. And the love that all these idiots have for each other is just so damn palpable in this story, it damn near made me cry.

Irreplaceable

Author: Orphan Account :(

Word Count: 4,952

Summary: There are obvious downsides to being the only member of the Avengers who is not a super soldier, a god, or a super assassin, and does not Hulk out when aggravated. The most obvious one is that when villains want bait, they've got a go-to guy. Tony already knew Mondays sucked. He did not need his opinion reinforced this way.

Why You Should Read It:

It’s such a bummer I can’t plunder this author’s other works because I love this one so much!

Tony gets kidnapped and says a lot of self-deprecating things that, unbeknownst to him, are projected on a live feed to the Avengers. They rescue him and have some opinions about how easily he could be replaced. This story’s got Tony hiding from feelings like an idiot, Steve manually carrying Tony somewhere the Avengers can say nice things about him, and a lot of feels.

That’s it for today! Tune in tomorrow for some AU recs!

[clearlynotjanus]

Loceit Appreciation Week: Day One, Hobbies

READ ON AO3

Chapter Summary: Through three accidental bonding moments over their usually solo hobbies, Logan & Janus realize they have a bit in common & enjoy what the other has to offer.

CW: Food mention, NSFW insinuated very briefly, Greek mythology Word Count: 6497 Genre: Gen Rating: Gen Ships: Slowburn Loceit, slowburn Intruloceit, pre-established Intrulogical, pre-established Dukeceit

taglist: @sanderssidesangsttrash​ @catalinaacosta​ @whatishappeningrightnow​ @anxiousbean4404​ @vexelore​ @the-dead-and-the-decaying​ @serpentinesomebody​ @poptartsaysurloved​ @robertdownerjr​ @dangitsbrightinhere​ @iamuncomffy​ @sanderdarksides​ @evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn​ @dragonfander @virgilstarantula​ @a-rudethude @indubitably-emo @gay-artist-626​ @cosplayhanna​ @edupunkn00b​ @wouldntyou-liketoknow​ @awesomerandomgirl1​ @loceitweek2021​​

To support my writing, consider subscribing to my Patreon or checking out my Ko-fi. 

Without any effort made to conceal himself, Janus observed Logan and Remus from the kitchen pass through. Cynically his eyes measured the almost formal distance between the lovers on the couch. There was no need to guesstimate their familiarity; Remus gushed every chance he got about their private life but Janus was still nosey as ever. He leaned forward there with an elbow bent across the counter, the other propped up with an apple brought to his mouth every so often with a satisfying crunch. His gaze switched between keen on their movements and hazy as trains of thought whisked him away. 

Janus was aware his staring made Logan uncomfortable in these moments. He shifted, glanced in Janus’ direction, cleared his throat, pushed his glasses back unnecessarily, all as though being perceived so closely was an entirely new concept; but that was just another reason to continue. This was, after all, the Dark Side; his side, and far be it from Janus to let Logan forget that detail. Besides, it wasn’t like he was a peeping Tom, leering as their casual afternoon became intimate. No, whenever that occurred, Janus was out of the room faster than Remus could get it up.

Today was tedious in its domesticity. Remus scribbled like a madman with furious scritchscritchscritches in a notebook that seemed to change positions whenever Janus looked at him, specifically. Logan rested his head gently against a loosely balled fist. With a quiet schwiff every couple of minutes, he turned a page of the book in his lap. The room was silent otherwise.

Crunch. Schwiff. Scritchscritchscritch. Crunch. Schwiff. Scritchscritchscritch. Crunch -- The apple was finished and the sticky core was disposed of.

“Logan,” Janus called suddenly in a sweet tone as the trash’s lid closed. 

The Side in question stayed silent; either to finish the line his eyes were currently on or to give Janus a taste of his own uncomfortable medicine. Either way, Janus rounded the kitchen corner and balanced a hip against the arm rest next to Remus. A gloved hand idly found its way into his partner’s curls; thoughtlessly, Remus leaned into the feeling, but remained otherwise unresponsive, clearly content with his scribbling. Logan finally blinked up. His expression seemed indecisive between exasperated and dubious, with a predictable amount of disinterest.

“What is it you’re reading?” Janus asked, brows and chin raised with an amount of intrigue that Logan didn’t immediately trust. Not to say Logan didn’t trust Janus individually, but even if he was the Side who understood Deceit the best, there was still quite a bit of water under this particular bridge -- or, uh, whatever idiom would fit here.

Instead of responding verbally, Logan held up the blue and black cover for Janus to read himself; which he then did. With a slightly cocked head, the words were enunciated slowly.

“Born Under Saturn. The Character and Conduct of Artists; A Documented History From Antiquity to The French Revolution,” Janus blinked back up at Logan’s face, digesting the rather wordy sentence. “An analysis of historical artists?” He attempted to boil the topic down to something more … succinct as Logan lowered the book again.

“Basically,” He allowed, eyes poised to resume his reading.

Janus hummed with peaked interest and continued to watch as Logan’s demeanor receded from vaguely conversational to studiously mute once more. In truth, it sounded like a rather compelling read. Being Thomas’ Sides, of course, they were all inclined to art in some way; for the more left-brained Sides such as Janus and Logan however, the critique and reasoning behind the art and associated artists compelled them more frequently than the act of creating art, itself. 

“What’s the part about Saturn?” Janus asked with knitted brows, the hand in Remus’ hair going still as he interrupted again after a moment. This question seemed to get Logan going as he shifted in his seat.

“Well, I had assumed from the title that the study would be centered around evidence pertaining to when and where artists were born, alluding to the hypothesis that Saturnian positions and dispositions resulted in a certain type of artistic character,” Logan explained, annoyance bleeding into his tone as he placed the back of his hand on the page he was currently on in a humorless gesture.

“And I take it from your very contented mood that that’s exactly what the book is about,” Janus teased reflexively, taken aback by Logan’s sudden enthusiasm. Perhaps, Janus thought, he hadn’t been so bothered by being stared at and was simply wrestling with his expectations of the text.

“Ha ha,” He laughed dryly; the sound made Janus smirk. “Saturn is, unfortunately,” Logan waved his hand at the book, “Just a metaphor here.”

“A metaphor for what?” Janus pressed gently, giving a final tug of affection to Remus’ hair before retracting his hand; sensing the appendage being stolen, the distracted Creativity leaned to follow the stimulus until it was far out of reach. Janus turned away and sat delicately on the shallow coffee table in front of Logan, who then paused.

He didn’t wonder why Janus was interested in this topic; after all, he thought, philosophy and theoretical debate were right up Janus’ alley. Additionally, they were speaking about metaphors, he rationalized. Logan didn’t need to understand nor regularly use the literary device to know its practical application, particularly to Deceit who always spoke in those encumbering and roundabout ways. What Logan really paused for was a moment of recognition that after years of distant silence, they were embarking on a rather cordial discussion.

“The melancholic,” Logan explained.

“So not the Roman god?”

“Well, yes and no, but for the comparison to make sense, no is easier,” Janus nodded and crossed his legs, listening with intent held in his brows. “It is a tad convoluted but the theory relates to the history of the four humors,” Janus gave a soft, one-noted hum and Logan nodded. “After all, the Greek etymology for the word melancholy is melas, meaning black and kholé meaning bile; black bile, of course--”

“Being one of the four … fluids,” Janus scrunched his nose distastefully, “Associated with the four humors,” He finished his interruption, gesturing with a loose wrist. 

“Exactly,” Logan breathed with a surprised half smile.

“So what does Saturn have to do with black bile?” Janus asked reasonably.

“Well that part goes back to the interpretive study of Astrology,” Janus tilted his head with surprised interest. “Which, despite its dubious plausibility today, played a frequently understated role in the founding of modern science, especially modern psychology.” Logan paused, watching Janus’ face shift subtly in thought. 

“Forgive my relatively ignorant knowledge of Astrology,” Logan nodded permissibly as Janus began to piece the theory together with slow words, “But I guess what you’re saying, or rather, what you expected the book to say, is that artists all suffer from a melancholic disposition?” Logan hummed and shook his head, causing Janus to purse his lips. 

“Again, yes and no. The book is saying that, to some extent.”

“You had just been expecting the evidence to be reliant on literal Saturn rather than...whatever they’re actually using,” Janus tried again and was rewarded with another half smile.

“Are you nerds done yet?” Remus piped up suddenly as Logan opened his mouth to continue. Janus’ head turned and the awareness in his partner’s eyes made his own narrow; how long had he been attentive to their conversation? “I wanna show Lolo what I made.”

“Quite, then,” Janus smiled curtly at Remus who beamed with knowing sarcasm in a way that only Janus would be able to detect. Rat bastard. “Another time,” He promised almost provocatively as a parting to Logan, who looked rather miffed and torn between continuing this unexpectedly stimulating conversation and tending to his boyfriend’s desires.

Janus stood before brushing invisible dirt off himself. “Have a wonderful afternoon, lovebirds,” Janus lilted, fingers wiggling in a goodbye wave as his back disappeared down the hall.

Logan blinked several times before inhaling and turning to Remus, who seemed a few moments more patient and perhaps a little more amused than usual.

- - - - -

Remus’ door having gone unanswered, when music began to softly crackle from the direction of the kitchen, Logan followed it with a vague intrigue. He paused in the entry, blinking at the four black-sleeved and yellow-gloved hands that flitted about the counter spaces. They rifled through the fridge and plucked from the cabinets with a sense of mindlessness from their owner, who stood at the sink. Using his natural two arms, Janus filled various bowls with water as he hummed along to the quiet, bouncy swing song that played from an antique looking gramophone Logan could’ve sworn wasn’t there yesterday. The scene was fascinating, from a scientific point of view; he had never considered how Janus’ many arms worked and seeing them here, stretching out and acting as though they had their own sentience piqued his interest immensely. 

For long moments, Logan watched silently before the arms retracted, bringing various items back to the workspace closest to Janus. Packets of gelatin, food coloring -- Logan squinted from his position; corn syrup? The answer to a question he hadn’t asked made itself apparent as he recalled a few various tidbits Remus had given him about his partner. Logan cleared his throat to get Janus’ attention, satisfied with his distant examinations.

“Oh,” The baker turned around, excess arms disappearing inside him with a flourish as they completed their purpose of fetching. “Logan, good morning,” Janus greeted in a sunny tone, though confusion hinted in his eyes.

“Good morning,” He returned, taking conservative steps into the kitchen. He nodded at the gelatin packets. “So this is the gelatin art Remus talks about,” Logan observed without question.

“Remus talks about it?” Janus asked, reserved happiness in his distracted tone as he stepped from the sink to the counter and began measuring out tablespoons of corn syrup.

“Frequently,” Logan confirmed, crossing his arms casually. The conversation came to a peaceful lull as Janus began to stir the syrup and water. Concluding that, he turned and took steps that placed him closer than usual to the other.

“What does he say?” Janus asked like a teen greedy for rumors, giving a sly glance from under his lashes as he paused. The moment lingered as he reached around Logan for the gelatin packets he stood in front of, meeting his eyes all the while. Suddenly, Logan couldn’t remember a single thing Remus had ever said. The tips of his ears reddened with a blush that creeped up the back of his neck. He swallowed against the dryness of his throat.

“Just that you enjoy making gelatin,” Logan responded after Janus had made his way back to the counter, his posture feeling as stiff and unnatural as his answer. He could see the disappointment in the way Janus’ lips pursed as he began dumping the neutral colored gelatin into the solution.

“Is that so.”

“Yes,” Logan cleared his throat and again felt that his response was lame. It made the air between them go stale. How did Remus manage to speak with Janus so casually and with so much enthusiasm? Of course, he wouldn't be Remus without an absence of shame, but still; Logan found himself envying the fact. 

He was appreciative of the cheerful music that eased the awkwardness. Also that Janus didn’t seem to mind how apparently awful he was at idle conversations despite his desire to engage in them. After a few moments, Janus went back to humming as he repeated the task of pouring gelatin into the bowls and discarding the packets. As the heat in his face receded, Logan recalled more of Remus’ words over the time they had been dating. 

He always spoke very highly of his partner, which was to be expected. Janus was graceful, patient, and, quote, ridiculously smart. Despite taking everything Remus had to say with mounded tablespoons of realism flavored salt, examining Janus now and through the lens of their recent interactions, Logan would have to agree. 

“He has an awful habit,” Janus revived the conversation as one song faded into the next. He turned and leaned back against the counter; as he spoke, he slowly began turning the knob of a manual can opener against a can of condensed milk. “Of eating various inedible things,” Janus scrunched his nose and Logan exhaled. “You won’t believe the things he’s consumed over the years.”

“That’s why you make the gelatin, correct?” Logan asked, hoping this time his phrasing opened up the possibility for more elaboration.

“Mhm,” Janus hummed with a shallow nod and twisted the lid off before throwing it in the trash as well. He turned and stirred the thickened milk into the largest bowl of water and corn syrup. Discomfort washed over Logan once more as he began to realize the conversation had died again. His head fell but soon snapped up as Janus thankfully continued after a moment.

“Of course it doesn’t negate the problem entirely,” His tone was less annoyed than Logan would’ve thought. Though there was plenty of quiet frustration, mostly he sounded concerned and tired. “But I like to imagine it helps some at least.” 

“I think it helps more than you realize,” Logan offered slowly in a tone that was sure of itself despite the confusion in his brow. Did Janus not realize his instrumental intervention?

Remus never really shut up about how much he appreciated Janus. The various ways Janus managed him and his mental health over their lifetime together, how effortless Janus made it all look; Logan had to admit, hearing about it constantly was rather intimidating, especially at the beginning of their relationship. He had high expectations to meet if everything Remus said was true, and like he thought before, it was beginning to look that way as Logan got to know Janus for himself. Remus talked a fair amount about how much he appreciated Logan as well though, so he never did have much of a chance to get demoralized about it. Even so, gauging the dynamic between Janus and Remus without his interference was a bit startling as everything came into focus.

They flowed together easily; in the interactions Logan had witnessed, their affection always had a sense of routine and familiarity, but not in the stale way that felt boring after years of repetition. Perhaps, Logan began to think, it had clouded his view a bit and prevented him from questioning if Remus ever expressed his gratitude to Janus, directly. The likelihood that he didn’t seemed infinitesimal, and yet the doubt was still clear in Janus’ words. Was it that he didn’t believe Remus then?

Janus cautioned a look at Logan from over his shoulder, surprise and then confusion flashed across his features; exactly how much did Remus talk about him? He didn’t mind being complimented of course, he adored praise, but something about the idea of Remus jumping into a new relationship only to gush about him constantly didn’t sit right with him. Especially if that person was Logan. Who knew how Logan felt after all this time? Janus scrunched his nose and tossed the now empty can with a sense of distaste.

“I suppose he talks about me too much if you think that,” His tone was apologetic as he gave the mixture a final stir before turning to meet Logan’s eyes with a flashy smile. “Enough about all that though; would you like to help?”

Logan blinked, his mind catching up to the topic dismissal. “Help?” He repeated automatically before realizing what Janus meant. “Oh. No,” He unfolded his arms to wave a hand, shaking his head. “I’m not one for baking, I’ll just get in the way.”

“Nonsense,” Janus insisted, reaching forward to gently steal Logan by his sleeve. “If you need more motivation than just my requesting, think about how thrilled Remus will surely be knowing you had a hand in this batch.”

Logan let himself be pulled towards the workstation, not having it in him to refuse Janus’ smile and persistence more than once.

“I suppose you have a point,” He conceded with a sigh and Janus clapped his hands together quietly.

“Splendid,” he plucked the box of food coloring from the counter and pushed the dark blue dropper into Logan’s hands. “This is the easy part anyway. I trust you completely.”

Somehow, the implication of Janus trusting him made him pause, feeling his chest going warm. Logan stared down at the small bottle in his hands, feeling even more clueless now being involved than he had simply watching Janus; but Janus still trusted him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that Janus was trusting him on reputation alone, something the others consistently seem to find inconceivable. Not often was Logan trusted so explicitly, which was concerning to say the least, but function aside, the sentiment filled him with unexpected happiness. 

“Just get this,” Janus tapped one of bowls filled with water, corn syrup, and gelatin, “As close to this shade,” He then pointed to the blue swirl part of the Tide Pod resting between the various ingredients, “As you can get,” Janus finished with another disarming smile. Forcing himself to look away, Logan thought that at the rate Janus used that sort of charm on him like that, he’d never remember anything ever again.

“Okay,” He asserted slowly with a nod and unscrewed the small bottle. As he set to dropping small amounts of the dye before stirring and comparing the colors, Janus seemed to be doing the same with a shade of bright orange. “I suppose that’s good,” Logan ascertained after a few silent moments, holding the clear bowl up to his face for closer inspection.

“Flawless, I would say,” Janus complimented, completing his own color a second later. “Next,” He said slowly and reached to gather several of one kind of item that Logan didn’t immediately recognize, “We set the molds,” Janus explained as he neatly lined about a dozen purple, palm sized squares between them. Logan uttered a small, ah, in understanding.

He scanned the counter for a tool that would be useful here; the idea of pouring the liquid straight into the molds seemed rather silly and messy. If this were Patton, Logan wouldn’t put it past him, but Janus was far more structured, far more sensible.

“Should we use those?” Logan asked, reaching for the rather thick gauge baking syringes set to the side as Janus opened the molds to reveal a swirl shape identical to the signature Tide Pod.

“A step ahead of me,” Janus lilted with a nod, raising his eyes just enough to spot the syringes he planned on retrieving next. “Go on then,” He pointed his chin at the gelatin, reaching over Logan for a needle of his own. “I trust it’s fairly self explanatory for you.”

And it was; the entire procedure wasn’t particularly challenging, as long as Janus wasn’t smiling at him or charming him out of his brain cells. Logan drew up about half the syringe’s barrel and then held one half of the mold in his palm. Comparing it to the Tide Pod, he began to gently squeeze the blue solution along half of the swirl pattern, dragging it across the material for an even consistency. Janus smiled to himself, watching from the corner of his eye and began to do the same with his own orange gelatin, working from the opposite end of the line. 

“When it comes to the ones already filled,” Janus began as they approached meeting in the middle, though before he could finish, Logan interrupted knowingly.

“I suppose I should avoid picking the mold up so as to not disrupt the other side,” He guessed and positioned his syringe at a different angle, experimenting with how he should go about it now before settling on a method.

“Precisely,” Janus delighted quietly, moving behind Logan and out of his way to fill in the orange sides of the already completed blue ones. “Typically,” He continued as they settled back into a rhythm, “I just do both colors at once, holding it as you had started,” Janus glanced out of the corner of his eye; Logan looked so concentrated, it was impossible not to find the focus in his eyes adorable. For a brief moment, before Janus continued, Logan began to worry that he was getting in the way as he feared. If Janus had a certain way of doing this and he was doing it wrong, comparatively, then it was just as he thought; that he shouldn’t have gotten involved. 

“But I don’t quite mind this either,” Janus finished softly and Logan exhaled the breath he didn’t realize was being held. As the silence began to press on, he started to wish he could figure out something to say to Janus’ kindness. Then he wondered if this was how Remus often felt.

As Janus took Logan’s empty syringe and quickly rinsed both of theirs in the sink, he explained their next and final step before they would be placed in the fridge until completion. Sealing the molds with their domed, other half, they would repeat the filling action with the condensed milk and gelatin mixture.

“Simple enough,” Logan said as he accepted the syringe that Janus handed him with a smile. This time, Logan offered his own small expression before the two set to work. After a few silent moments, he continued with a rather impulsive question. “Does Remus ever help you with this?” Surely he did; in the same way Logan found it impossible that Remus never expressed his gratitude to Janus, he couldn’t fathom that the two didn’t enjoy this together.

“Oh, no, never,” Janus answered immediately with an appalled tone. Logan blinked, his hand going still as he again reevaluated how he perceived their relationship. “The first and only time I tried to get him to help,” He continued, his own hands pausing to stare wide eyed and offended at Logan, “He ate three of my molds!”

Logan couldn’t help the small smile that curved his lips, though he tried to dismiss it quickly by pursing them and looking away. The distress Janus clearly felt for something so simple was … a bit bewildering, but also very him, Logan decided. He got the sense that Remus would love to help, if he could, but that he had the habit of ruining Janus’ things in the process. With a heavy sigh, Janus went back to filling the molds and when Logan could keep the smile out of his voice, he continued.

“The other day he brought a few rocks from the Imagination to my room and asked what they were. He does that,” Logan glanced at Janus, “Stops by and asks questions like that, but when I located my geology kit, the first thing he did,” Logan smiled again, fondness creeping into his tone despite himself, “Was tear the handbook pages in excitement,” Janus clicked his tongue and shook his head, empathizing with the tragedy, but Logan continued, gesturing in small ways now. “It was completely illegible,” Logan paused, recalling the fear in Remus’ expression as he apologized profusely, handing the torn book back by the tips of his fingers. 

“Was?” Janus prompted quietly, watching Logan’s faintly passionate storytelling from the corner of his eye.

“At least for its intended use as a portable guide. If you pushed the papers together, you could piece the sentences but,” Logan paused again and shook his head, “He insisted on writing it, all of it. He took one of my notebooks right there and stared down at the little book and wrote everything he could make out,” Logan laughed dryly and resumed filling the mold he had stopped on. “I bet he has the entire handbook memorized now.”

“He adores you very much then,” Janus said without reservation, without even looking away from the molds. The conclusion caught Logan off guard and silence persisted as he waited for Janus to elaborate; but no such continuation came. Again Logan found himself holding his breath, but it wasn’t like he didn’t know that Remus loved him. He said it at least ten times a day. It just felt very different coming from someone who’s known Remus for so long, Logan guessed. It’s different when someone else can see love that easily.

“I know,” Logan whispered sentimentally after a while, and wondered in the enduring silence of their work if he should’ve said that Remus loved Janus very much, too.

- - - - -

Janus paused on the bottom step of the Dark Side stairs as he spotted Logan, bent slightly at the waist and jotting something down on a rather large stack of white paper. The astringent smell of Sharpies was unavoidable. While it certainly wasn’t new at this point for Logan to be found here on a casual basis, it was a bit strange that Remus wasn’t in the immediate area.

“Hello, Logan,” Janus greeted in a smiling tone as he continued into the room and approached the workspace that was their dining table. 

“Hello,” He returned the friendly gesture without tearing his eyes away or stopping his hand from drawing a simplistic symbol in one of the dated squares.

“What brings you here without your typical consort?” Now peering over Logan’s shoulder, Janus realized it wasn’t just any stack of paper he was writing on, but a wall calendar.

“Remus just went to the bathroom. He’ll probably be back in a few moments.”

Janus made a soft sound of understanding and continued to watch. Capping the silvery marker he had been using, Logan switched it out for a dark blue one. Intrigue growing, Janus observed as he neatly drew an open circle, then some complex looking arrow shape beside it. Next Logan drew an odd arch shape on the other side of the square beside another open circle, this one with a dot in the center. Then two smaller circles diagonal from each other connected with a single line. Finally, next to that symbol, he drew a half crescent moon. Janus’ brows furrowed delicately. 

“Logan, dear?” 

“Hm?”

“What on Earth are you doing?”

Logan blinked and paused before slowly standing from his leaning position. He … didn’t really know where to begin. Talking about his hobby with Remus was one thing; while his boyfriend readily listened to his enthusing and had even offered his artistic expertise in ‘livening up’ the calendar today, the idea of explaining it to Janus felt like a different beast altogether. Why was that? Logan observed his feelings on the matter, staring down at the calendar. The writing there was neither impressive nor sloppy, but a typical middle ground of insignificantly informative, in his opinion. Mindlessly, he brought the marker up to his chest and capped it with a decisive click. His stomach became uneasy imagining himself divulging eagerly, about anything, to Janus. Why was that?

“I’m,” Indulging in a pseudoscience? Partaking in something that is unreliable and interpretive at best? Having an indemonstrable belief system? Being less than serious? Logan turned to face Janus, his arms falling to his sides. “Calculating planetary positions and hypothesizing on their potential,” Spiritual? Emotional? “Financial, political, and interpersonal ramifications,” Logan’s heart raced. He counted the beats. One, two, three, fourfivesixseveneight--

“I see,” Janus said reflexively but then paused to digest the sentence. It sounded interesting enough to him; foresight was high on his list of well regarded practices. Whatever helped in that pursuit, Janus found at least a little compelling. Though he cocked his head slightly and gave Logan a once over. Was he acting rather … defensive? There was no lie in his words, Janus would’ve immediately known after all, but he got the sense that he wasn’t being painted the full picture here. 

A bead of sweat dripped down the back of Logan’s collar. Janus wasn’t looking at him in any specific way, there wasn’t anything interrogative about the silence, in fact Janus’ expression was rather polite. Logan had noticed at some point that Janus looked at him more like an equal than any of the other accepted Sides. In return, he had come to trust the intrigue frequently found in his expressions. And yet he was anxious. Why? Historically, talking to Janus had never made him nervous before, sharing in pastimes together hadn’t either, so … why did he feel like sinking through the soles of his shoes and never speaking about this, ever again?

“Well,” Janus broke the silence with his entertained tone. “You were always into space and such, I shouldn’t be surprised.” 

Logan inhaled through his nose, more suddenly than he meant to, and realized only now there was a tension in his hands as they twitched to relax. Janus didn’t see anything wrong with his description of the hobby, but the fact was that he didn’t know the whole story. Logan’s explanation was, of course, accurate; accurate enough to not count as a lie, but Janus’ suspicion was warranted. A suspicion that was much closer to curiosity than Logan realized in his paranoid attempt to seem and sound more serious than necessary.

“Yes,” He mumbled and turned back around to the calendar. Janus watched with narrowed eyes as Logan placed the marker back with the rest, seeming to have a particular order that they belonged in. After a pause, he diverted his attention to the open, beige colored notebook on the other side of the table. Logan began to lightly drag a finger along the bottom of a written line of symbols there. Janus could only assume he was committing their exact meaning to memory in a way only someone like Logan could.

“So tell me,” Janus interrupted again as he elegantly sat himself down at the table opposite Logan, whose train of thought halted abruptly. “What do those symbols mean?” Janus asked, cradling his cheek in his palm as he reached the other hand to point at the five dark blue markings Logan had made. Logan swallowed and blinked slowly, bracing himself. There was no way he made it out of this conversation with Janus’ opinion of him remaining positive.

Keeping his tone as neutral as possible, Logan then dragged his finger along each symbol as it was defined, meeting Janus’ inquisitive eyes with his own hesitant gaze.

“Full moon,” Open circle, “Sagittarius,” arrow. Logan directed his finger to the other side of the square, dictating that those two symbols didn’t correlate in a direct sense to the next three. “Gemini,” He continued, pointing to the odd arch shape, “Sun,” dotted open circle, “Opposition,” the two smaller circles connected by the thin line, “Moon,” Logan finished at the half crescent moon shape.

A puzzled look flashed across Janus’ face before the words connected like a puzzle, forming a sentence he understood theoretically but in no literal way; full moon in Sagittarius, Gemini sun, opposition moon … which was in Sagittarius then? Janus could only guess. These were phrases he’s heard before, of course, but Logan said them in a way that felt far more significant than any well-rated horoscope app had.

Logan let Janus ruminate on his explanation, hoping no more questions came at the detriment of his reputation. Again he started to consult his notebook, but it was only a few moments before Janus spoke again.

“So … what’s the significance of … all that?” He asked and Logan’s mind raced in the same way Remus, Roman, and Virgil could speak at a mile a minute.

“The significance,” Logan began after what felt like much longer than a moment of struggling to quiet his mind, “Is as I said; potential financial, political, and interpersonal ramifications,” He completed in a mumble before clearing his throat, unable to meet Janus’ eyes anymore, causing the latter to frown.

The fact that Logan was growing increasingly uncomfortable wasn’t lost on Janus, of course. He watched the gears churning in Logan’s mind as mental gymnastics were performed. It wasn’t a secret to Denial why he felt discontented currently; being taken seriously was paramount to this Side and everyone had a long history of finding Logic to be a joke. After years of being dismissed without advocacy, Janus could only hope to display a patience and interest deep enough for Logan to find himself comfortable in his presence again.

“As you said,” Janus agreed, dismissing that superficial statement. “But what about that one, specifically? It’s in blue so I assume it has some significance.”

Logan’s lips tightened; where did he even begin? Explaining the correspondence between phenomena and full moons? Diving into Jupiter’s mythology and Sagittarius’ significance to Thomas, personally, as his moon ruler? The unease in his stomach shifted up his throat.

“Oh hey, Dee!” Remus suddenly interrupted as he returned from down the hall. If Logan were a man of lesser self control, he may have jumped right out of his skin.

They both turned to blink at the entrance, Logan a second too late as Remus dotted an affectionate kiss to his cheek. Rigidly, he gave a half-lipped smile to the gesture.

“Lolo telling you about his nerdy Astrology stuff?” Remus plopped himself into a chair between them at the table.

“Just a little,” Janus said as he sat back and crossed his legs.  

“Booooo,” Remus cheered, giving Logan a thumbs down before grinning. He leaned over to peer at the dark blue symbols that were drawn while he was away. “Full moon in Sagittarius,” Remus read like he was fluent in this second language Janus had only just learned the existence of. “And uh,” He paused, cocked his head in order to read the markings easier, “Gemini sun, uh, what’s that one again, Lolo?” Remus pointed at the connected, diagonal circles. 

Janus narrowed his eyes. He got the sense that Remus could easily say what that sign meant, but had asked Logan in order to hear him talk about it. How sweet.

“Opposition,” Logan repeated like a sigh as he reached to scratch the back of his neck. “Since the sun is in Gemini for most of this month, it will be opposing the moon’s position in Sagittarius that day.”

“Does that spell trouble for Tommyboy?” Remus asked mischievously, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the unused seat behind Logan.

“On the contrary,” Logan responded, opening his mouth to continue but then quickly closing it as the corner of his vision registered Janus again. 

The frown on Janus’ lips grew deeper as he silently observed the two. It seemed to come down to him and his effects on Logan’s nerves; the assumption that he would dismiss him like Patton, Roman, and Thomas, or say that he was wrong like Virgil.

“Please,” Janus urged in his most genuine tone as he held up his hands like a white flag. “Pretend I’m not here, do carry on.”

Logan inhaled slowly and seemed to take his time believing that sentiment. Another mental stalemate began; Logan wrestled with the expectations he held himself to, the assumed expectations Janus had of him, and the misconception that his hobby would be seen as silly or less than in any way. The silence dragged on until Remus broke the tension once more.

“Yeah, c’mon Lolo. Dee listens to me rant about stupid shit all the time. He’s got the patience of a Saint, I swear,” Remus smirked at Janus, who then reached out to pull affectionately on his partner’s ear.

“Like I have a choice with you,” Janus mumbled fondly, lacing his voice with thick sarcasm. 

Quickly, Remus turned his head like a baited shark and bit after Janus’ hand as it was retracted, narrowly missing the appendages with his teeth. Janus rolled his eyes and Remus beamed before shifting in his seat and staring up at Logan expectantly.

Logan’s chest burned with some unfamiliar feeling as he watched the clearly loving display. Naming emotions certainly wasn’t his strong suit, but whatever it was tightened his throat and made swallowing difficult. As usual for him, the feeling was quickly pushed away.

Which caused it to land directly into Denial’s jurisdiction. Janus had long perfected the art of remaining stoic in the face of blindsiding emotions that weren’t his own; which of course included now, as the denial of jealousy swiftly punched him in the stomach. Janus’ breathing stopped as he waited for the familiar pang of envy to subside, knowing by instinct that the originator stood before him.

“I suppose,” Logan continued after a moment before clearing his throat. “It is on the contrary that Thomas will be experiencing anything negative on this day or the two previous days leading up to this full moon,” He reached to flip a page in his notebook, revealing a neatly drawn chart of dates and signs. His finger rested decisively next to three in particular. “The moon will be in Sagittarius, opposing the current sun sign; Gemini. This is particularly good for Thomas since he has a natal Sagittarius moon.”

“Laaaaaame,” Remus exaggerated belligerently. Having been through this before, Logan gave a renewed half smile, knowing Remus only found Thomas’ lack of misfortune ‘lame’ and not the inherency of his explanation.

Janus exhaled finally as the emotional turmoil in his stomach subsided with Logan’s contentment. His chin raised curiously, eyeing the revealed page. This all sounded fascinating. He got the feeling that there was so much more to this topic, and that he would be very willing and rather eager to listen to it all as long as it was coming from Logan.

“Tell me, Lolo,” Remus said in a dark voice, frantically leaning forward, splaying his palms on the table and disregarding the way his quick movement made Logan’s markers roll away. “Do your charts and shit say when he’ll die?”

“No,” Logan sighed and rolled his eyes. The air turned sweet and Janus’ brows raised despite himself. “Even if they did, I wouldn’t tell you. It’d be incredibly subjective anyway,” Logan gestured dismissively and turned away, catching sight of Janus’ intrigued smirk. The expression made him gulp. “It’s all incredibly subjective,” He continued, now in a mumble as he went to close his notebook. 

Hastily, Logan began to gather the haphazard markers like he planned on packing his project away for the day. Lie and jealousy aside, Janus found himself invested.

“Well,” He began as Logan took a step back from the table to stare at the floor, seeming to have lost a marker in Remus’ chaos. “I thought it was all rather … enchanting,” Janus flirted unashamedly, producing the green hued utensil between his fingers with a curled smile. Logan blinked, the tips of his ears going red. “You’ll tell me more sometime?” Janus insisted, turning the thing in his grip and offering it more pointedly.

Logan swallowed and reached to quickly pluck the object from Janus’ fingers. 

“Sure,” He sighed, suddenly feeling like he had agreed to something rather damning.

“Delightful.”

Chapter One || Chapter Two

[purple-baby-d]

overthinking over you.

Lee Donghyuck (Haechan — NCT) X female reader.

Genre: Fluff, smut.

Word count: 8,672.

Content: student!hyuck, student!reader, sportplayers!nct, kissing, first time sex (male), dry humping, foreplay, fingering, depictions of violence that may be upsetting for some readers, I kinda made Johnny a dick so sorry to y’all beforehand, just some lovely and probably cringey au to have a valentine’s day feast before valentine’s day because I realized I haven’t written an au for my best friend in a while and the 90′s Love era Haechan has been attacking me for long enough so I decided to do something about it.

Brief: Captain of the hockey team, Honor Roll student, an amazing friend and the pride and joy of his parents, Lee Donghyuck certainly has it all to other people’s eyes, but what about the girl he’s dreamed of? No, he’s pretty much a great overthinker for that. But now that she broke up with her boyfriend, will his head get on the way of him getting to her heart?

Dedicated to @theravengoddess, happy Valentine’s day, bestie! I love you and thank you for being with me through the ups and downs 💜

After some long hours of practice, the hockey team was finally sent to the lockers by the coach, the old man’s chest was filled with pride by his back-to-back champion, the Neo Cultural Tech All-Stars. But of course, he didn’t want his players to slack off, so he wouldn’t let them know that.

The man of the hour, Lee Donghyuck, got out of his warm shower to dress up and go home, finding his fellow team players in the lockers. “Hey, nice practice today, Hyuck”, Jeno complimented, patting his shoulder. “Thanks, man. You were quite impressive out there too”, he smiled at him. “You guys wanna crash at my place to study for the finals? My last brain cell died trying to figure out the Algebra study guide”, Mark sighed, pulling his red hoodie down as he slipped his arms into the sleeves. “I’m down, I seriously need divine help for that one”, Sungchan said, tying the laces of his sneakers. “Me too, the question is if our savior will be there to help us”, Yangyang teased, looking at his team captain.

The blonde looked at him with a little smile, shaking his head. “You guys are truly a pain in the ass”, he sighed. “Oh, come on, Hyuck! I’ll pay for the pizza”, Yangyang pleaded, truly concerned about his grades. “You know if I don’t get at least a B, I won’t be able to stay in the team, what are you gonna do without your heartthrob?” he asked while pouting and batting his eyes. “But WinWin has good grades”, Mark teased, making his fellows laugh and Hyuck sigh. “Fine, but if you start staring at your phone instead of studying, I will whoop your ass”, Donghyuck agreed, and the rest of them high-fived each other.

“Ayo, Ten!”, Mark called out, looking at the guy who had just gotten out of the shower. Donghyuck saw something weird in him, he looked as if he was in a rush. “We’re having a group study session at my place, Hyuck will help us with the Algebra study guide, you down?”, he asked. “I’ll have to pass, guys. Johnny is pissed, it seems like he and Y/N broke up”, he said, making Donghyuck stop in his tracks, shocked. “What? What for?”, Mark asked again, concerned for Ten’s stepbrother, the star of the school’s martial arts team. “You know Johnny, she probably found out he cheated on her or something, but I’m still his brother, so I gotta be there for him”, Ten sighed, getting dressed within five minutes with his hair still dripping wet. “Anyways, maybe the next time, take care, y’all!”, he said before rushing out of the lockers’ room.

Jeno looked at his blonde friend, knowing exactly what he was probably thinking. His seemingly hopeless love was finally available again, how exciting was that? However, he looked rather terrified, and it was because his overthinking head was working at full speed.

Oh God, is she okay? Did Johnny hurt her badly? Should I text her? What if she doesn’t wanna talk about it? What if she doesn’t wanna talk at all? What if she doesn’t like boys anymore after this? Irene started dating Seulgi after Junmyeon broke up with her, what if Y/N does that too? Should I go with her? But I already told the guys I would help them... Jesus, Lee Donghyuck, you’re such an idiot.

Lee Donghyuck had many virtues, sadly his biggest enemy was his head.

“Guys, I think we lost him”, Sungchan said, as he saw Donghyuck spacing out. “What?” he said, once he realized his surroundings. Mark patted his shoulder, “Lee Donghyuck, you’re truly one of a kind. If y’all ready, let’s go”, he said, and their group left the lockers and headed to the parking lot, where everyone got into Donghyuck’s black Jeep to head off to Mark’s place. However, the team captain was still thinking about his long-time friend, who he’s had a crush on for the longest time. He simply shook it off, he was a man of his word, so he would help his friends and once they’re done with studying, his head would be clear enough to know what to do.

Because there was nothing better for Lee Donghyuck to clear his mind than a good Algebra study guide.

“Oh, man, thank God it’s over!”, Sungchan yawned, stretching after finishing the last problem of the study guide and the last slice of pizza left on the third box, “I get it all now, how did you do that?”, Yangyang asked, looking at Donghyuck with utter confusion. “Well, it’s quite simple if you actually get your head in it”, the blonde replied, saving the study guide back in his backpack before grabbing his phone, still wandering between texting you or not. It wouldn’t be weird, you’ve known each other since kindergarten and been friends for years. However, your ex-boyfriend, the widely-known playboy Seo Johnny, had kept you from talking ever since you started dating last summer, and honestly, Donghyuck didn’t want you to have problems because of him.

He loved you a lot to do that.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, Jeno, do you want a ride?”, you asked the only one within your group you knew didn’t plan on staying over at Mark’s or lived close enough to walk home. Jeno logically nodded, picking up his bag and saying his respective goodbyes. Of course, something seemed to click in Jeno’s head when Donghyuck offered to give him a ride home: you lived in front of his house. Obviously, he wasn’t going to point that out, knowing Donghyuck, he would take back his offer, and he honestly didn’t want to walk the ten blocks that distanced Mark’s place to his.

“You think I should talk to her?”, Donghyuck asked halfway through, looking at Jeno briefly as they got to a red light. Jeno sighed, taking his sight away from the window to look at his friend. “Honestly, Hyuck? You’ve been in love with her since fifth grade, you should gather the balls to tell her once and for all, it’s so fucking frustrating to deal with your overthinking ass head”, he replied, taking a deep breath afterward. What hurt Hyuck the most was knowing that he was right and that even after all those years, he’d always see you run into another guy’s arms.

First, it was Lucas, your boyfriend from sixth to eighth grade. He had a wealthy family and was the school’s fencing champion. And then, it was Johnny, who you’d been with since barely months after you broke up with Lucas. Sadly, it has always been the same for Donghyuck: as soon as he gathers the courage to ask you out, you’d already started dating someone else. You have a long, toxic relationship with the new guy, he breaks your heart, you go to him. It was the routine he was used to, the routine his thoughts reserved for him every time. But after parking his car in front of Jeno’s house, he decided that was about to change.

“You sure you’re okay? I’m sorry if I said something-”, Jeno tried to apologize, but Donghyuck cut him off. “It’s alright, Jen. You said what was in your head and I respect that, mostly because you’re right”, he sighed, looking down for a while before taking a deep breath and reaching out his hand for a small handshake with his friend. “I’ll see you tomorrow”, he grinned, as Jeno got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, drive home safely!”, the raven-haired boy exclaimed as he walked into his house. Donghyuck stayed outside for a while, and while he did, he sighed as he kept thinking what was the right thing to text you.

But decided to let all of that go, he just typed the first thing that came to his head and pressed sent, locking his phone so he wouldn’t keep looking at it on his way home.

“Johnny is a dick, and I think it’s time for me to say I told you”, Wendy laughed as you simply shook your head. Yeah, they all warned you, it’s true. But the truth also was you never really had super strong feelings for Johnny, nor Lucas, nor for any of the boys you’ve dated before. But then, why would you date them? Because you weren’t a fan of loneliness, and even though most of those guys were assholes —especially and at a ridiculous level, Johnny—, they wouldn’t miss the most stupid excuse to be with you when you were alone, which sadly because of your parents’ job was pretty often. “Yeah, I know I should’ve listened to you, Wen” you rolled your eyes as you threw one of your stuffed animals at your friend.

But as soon as she threw another one back, specifically the bear with the hockey team’s uniform, your eyes were about to bawl out. “Hey, be careful with this one!” you said, making sure it was still in perfect conditions. All of your friends looked at you, quite taken aback by your reaction. However, Demi, your neighbor, smiled a little before explaining your reaction. “All the other stuffed animals were from the idiots, but Lee Donghyuck gave her that one”, she sat next to you, as you both smiled while looking at each other. “Lee Donghyuck? As in the hockey team’s captain, Lee Donghyuck?”, Joy asked, quite excited. You nodded, letting out a small sigh as you thought of him.

“I’ve heard he’s gay, I mean, he hasn’t gone public about a relationship like... ever? And besides, he has rejected every girl that’s asked him out”, Irene said, quite as nicely as ever. “No offense, I mean, I’m obviously an ally... but, how come such a hot piece of cake like him has never dated someone?”. Seulgi looked at her girlfriend, quite shocked at her way to describe him. “Jeno told me he has a crush on someone since fifth grade, but he’s quite an overthinker, he needs to ask his left foot before moving the right one”, Demi chuckled, “But I think that’s cute, he’s been a good friend to Y/N as far as I’m concerned, and if he ever decides to step out of his shell, I bet he will be the exception to the all athletes are idiots rule”.

This last phrase stayed in your mind as Seulgi, Irene, Wendy and Joy left, as they had told Yeri they would go over to her house for a good spiriting session before the cheerleading championship you’d enroll into in a few weeks. You passed, you were scared as hell of those things, and honestly, you preferred to spend some quality time with your neighbor before she went overseas to a musical exchange program. “Ugh, I’m gonna miss you so much, bitch”, you said as you hugged her, making her chuckle. “Hey, I’ll be sending you as many pictures as you want, and I’ll buy you gifts while I’m there, I promise I’ll try every single street food dish London has to offer just for you”, she said, letting out a sigh as she watched through your bedroom’s window. “I’ll miss you and Jeno so much...”, she muttered. You playfully pushed her, “Hey, you’re with your wife right now! Stop thinking about your boyfriend, say you’ll miss me!”, you yelled at her as you both laughed.

Your phone vibrated as a message arrived, and you grabbed it from its previous spot in your bed. As you read who it was from, you simply smiled, something your friend didn’t miss out on. “Let me guess, it’s your gay best friend”, she mocked you, referring to Irene’s comment on the rumors about his private life. You simply looked at her for a second to return your attention to the text.

You typed the answer quickly, quite excited about the fact that he texted you first when it was usually the other way. Demi stared at you while you wrote the message, quite unsure as to why you looked so hyped up.

Hyuckie:

Hey, I heard about you and Seo, I’m sorry.

You felt a pillow being thrown your way, and you looked up only to find your friend looking at you, pretending to be pissed. “Hey, you’re with your wife right now! Stop texting your crush, let’s watch a movie!”, you laughed again at your silly “jealous” attitudes, and ended up turning on your laptop to watch a movie before going to bed.

You:

Hey... it’s fine, I was warned but I still did it.

How are you? I kinda missed you.

Of course, you’d chosen strategically to play the one movie Demi falls asleep watching so you could read Donghyuck’s answer to your texts, and you were a little too excited over it.

Hyuckie:

I missed you too, you should start cheering for the hockey team too!

Would you like to grab a bite tomorrow after class and catch up?

My treat ;)

You:

Are you asking me out?

You asked teasingly, making Donghyuck’s head insane as he laid in his bed, reading your message over and over again thinking about his next move.

Was it too soon? Is it too little? Should I say no? What if she was joking? What if she doesn’t want a date? What if I screw up and she never wants to talk to me again? Reply quickly, idiot! She’ll think you’re ignoring her!

Leaving his thoughts aside, he typed what his heart told him to and sent it, quite to your shock as you read it.

Hyuckie:

If I was, would you say yes?

Biting on your lip as Donghyuck’s hands trembled, you couldn’t hold back a smile. If your friend was right, this would end with the bad streak of dating idiots you’ve had so far, and you’d finally be happy with someone who actually gave you your place. So without thinking it any further, you replied something that made your friend’s heart skip a beat.

You:

Meet me tomorrow after class.

“You asked her out?!”, Jeno exclaimed in shock as he read the small text conversation on Hyuck’s phone. He nodded, and Jeno showed a huge surprised face, “What? I thought that was what you wanted me to do”, the blonde said, quite not getting his friend’s reaction. “I’m just... shocked. I thought it would still take you weeks, days at least. Hyuck, I’m so fucking proud of you!”, he hugged Hyuck as he patted his back. “Damn, our little Hyuck is finally growing up, this and the fact that we slew those Algebra finals is a matter of celebration!” Mark said excitingly. “You just wanted an excuse to throw a party, didn’t you?” Sungchan rolled his eyes, smiling at his friend’s enthusiasm.

“I think I’ll catch up later, I promised Demi I’d be with her tonight”, Jeno sighed. It was a mystery to everyone why he looked so down lately, and it was merely because Jeno wasn’t the sharing type. He liked to keep his problems to himself, in his books it was alright because everyone had their own stuff to deal with. However, quite frequently, the exception to that rule was Donghyuck, but he kept things to himself whenever they were with the rest of the guys.

So once the guys headed off to the library to study a bit more for the rest of their final exams, Hyuck patted Jeno’s shoulder. “I know something’s off, Jeno”, he looked at his friend in the eye, which made Jeno sigh. “Demi is taking off to London for the summer break, and God knows how much longer”, he finally told him. “And I don’t mean to keep her here, because I know that’s her dream, and had it been mine, she’d support me until the very end, but...”, Jeno stared at the ground as they kept walking, not really wanting to say what sounded so selfish in his head, but was truly the only thing that he had in his mind. “You don’t want her to leave”, his friend completed, wrapping his arms around him.

“Jeno, if there’s something I know for sure it’s how much you and Demi love each other”, he chuckled, trying to cheer his friend up. “You’ve been together... God, for as long as I can remember. You’ll survive this, you just gotta let things flow”. Jeno looked up at him with a little smile, “How come you’ve never dated anyone and you still give great dating advice?”. They both chuckled, only for Jeno to look back at him and pat his back, “That’s some great advice, Hyuck, you should follow it too”.

As they reached the exit, both of them went separate ways. Jeno’s words kept ringing in the back of Donghyuck’s head as he walked towards the outdoor field’s bleachers, sitting down as he waited for you still thinking about how he would manage everything. He made an elaborate plan right after finishing the study guide last night, with his mind clear enough to let him make his choices without any further doubts. He took a deep breath and followed the little pre-game ritual he had ever since he started playing hockey: he looked straight ahead and emptied his mind from everything but what he had planned for the day: making sure you knew he’d treat you better than the rest of the idiots you’ve given your heart to.

That was his plan for the most important task he’s had to date.

“Party at Mark Lee’s place tonight, girls!”, you heard Yeri exclaim as you got changed from your PE class in the lockers. The girls looked quite excited and you texted Demi to know if she would come as well, figuring that it would be somewhere in Hyuck’s plans for the night. “Someone looks quite rushed, do you have somewhere else to be?”, Joy asked you, as she slipped her red cropped turtleneck over her head. “I’m going on a date”, you muttered as the other girls looked at you, quite mesmerized. “A date?! With who?” Wendy had the courage to ask, and you smiled as you pointed at Donghyuck’s picture from last year’s yearbook. “Lee Donghyuck?”, Irene gasped, looking at you quite amazed. “Girls, there will be six more weeks of summer this year”. Your friends giggled as you shook your head. “I mean, you’re the first girl he’s asked out like... ever?”. You sighed as you put on some lipstick, blending it with the tip of your fingers.

Seulgi looked at what you were wearing and threw a piece of clothing at you, nearly making you smudge your mascara. “Hey!”, you exclaimed, quite shocked. “You don’t plan on going to Mark’s party later with that, right? Let alone to date the hockey team’s captain”, you looked at your plain red shirt and your white mom jeans, quite confused as you straightened the clothing ball your friend threw your way. “That’s my beloved white furry jacket, it will look cute with that and your matching bucket hat. And it will help you look like you made at least a little effort to look different today”. You dedicated her a little grin as you slipped the jacket on, finding yourself looking like a 90′s teen movie star. “Thank you!”, you told her, walking out the locker room as she yelled one final, “You better take care of it!”.

You jogged your way to the fields as you realized the bell rang twenty minutes ago, afraid of making Donghyuck think you’d forgotten or played with him. A part of you even thought he probably wouldn’t be there. However, you found him sitting in the bleachers, staring at his phone. “Hey, sorry, did you wait too long?”, you asked concerned, only to be greeted by one of his beautiful smiles. He got up, fixing his hair as he rushed down to your encounter, smiling your way. “I was talking to Jeno, I just got here”, he shrugged, a little white lie he made to keep you from feeling bad.

Because that’s how much he loved you.

“Oh, thank God, I was so scared...” you sighed, looking at him with a little smile. “Wow, I’ve seen you every day, yet you look so different”, you grinned, looking at how much his physics had changed from the little kid you remembered: he gained muscles, he was also taller than you remembered him to be, not to mention his golden-tanned skin looked somewhat more tempting than it did before. “Well, you’re still as beautiful as I remembered you to be”, he muttered, picking a lock of your hair behind your ear. That little moment had you feeling those cliché butterflies in your stomach like you’ve never felt them before. “Shall we go now?”, he asked you, reaching his hand out for you to hold.

His hands, good lord. You thought. There was definitely something about them that made you even more excited about holding them. As soon as you held his hand, it felt as if two pieces of a puzzle had been joined. As if the event was long overdue.

You walked over to the parking lot, where your jaw dropped as soon as you saw his ride. “Since when can you drive?”, you asked quite shocked. “I got my driver's license before the last championship, my parents gifted me this after we won”, he replied, opening the passenger’s seat door for you to go inside. “Wow, what a gentleman”, you said, acting as if it was a joke. But the truth was it somewhat made you feel good. No one had ever opened a door for you, and there was Lee Donghyuck, holding your hand to help you get inside his car after he opened the door for you.

Different from other guys you’ve had the chance to ride along with, Hyuck didn’t seem to care about your shoes being dirty when they touched the car, nor about you intending to touch the car. He made you feel as if his car was yours too, and you liked that. He closed the door once you got in and surrounded the car to get in the driver’s seat. You had this stupid smile on your face, and Hyuck noticed that. “What is it?”, he asked you, quite confused but still smiling. You shook your head, “Don’t mind me, I’m just recovering from the algebra test”. He chuckled, as he started the engine, “How come everyone says that? It was a piece of cake compared to the study guide”. You looked at him while laughing, shaking your head lightly. Ever since you were kids, Donghyuck was a genius with numbers. When the teacher asked him, he said it was because he liked to have an answer to problems, and that was when you knew you needed someone like him in your life.

However, due to the situation making you realize things in a totally different way, you surely were questioning the real intentions of that wish.

You stared at him as he focused on the driveway after lending you the AUX cable so you could choose the music, his focus unbothered even with your sort of intense glare. He truly looked like a 90′s boyband heartthrob. His sportslike red and white outfit along with the chains you remember giving him for one of his birthdays a while ago... he looked good. You also smiled a little as you noticed the color coordination you had unwittingly pulled off, you truly looked like a couple... and you liked it.

Donghyuck wasn’t blind, he noticed each one of your smiles but pretended not to since he liked to see you smiling, and his head was certain in the fact that you would try to hide them if he said something about them. “Where are we going?”, you asked him, quite curious about his intention. He wasn’t using any sort of GPS, so he knew where he was going, but that only made you more anxious as to where he was taking you. “Do you remember that place where your parents threw your birthday party in fifth grade?”, he asked, making you look at him with disbelief. “The arcade where I beat you in every single game?”, you giggled. “Yup, that one. I thought it would be nice to go back there, you know... for the memories”, he explained, only to add at the end, “and they also serve some great cheeseburgers”.

The pure definition of the word “nostalgia” hit you as soon as Hyuck parked the car in the place’s parking lot. It was nearly empty, with just some employees going around to check on the games and some people eating in the cafeteria. “Wow, this place is exactly like I remember, they haven’t even changed the games!”, you exclaimed as Hyuck looked at your excitement with loving eyes. You looked at the guy beside you, taking your wallet out of your purse. “Well, the food’s your treat, then mine’s the games”, you said, you didn’t even let him say a word before you went over to the cashier to pay for the coins you’d play with.

The old lady sitting behind the desk looked at you with a kind smile, “That young man came in yesterday when we were nearly closing, he asked us to reconnect some of the old machines, now I get why”, she told you while looking for a few bags of coins, counting them in a machine that later poured them in a little cup. “He sure is in love with you, you’ve got quite a catch of a boyfriend”. You were about to tell her he wasn’t your boyfriend when you turned around, and your eyes found him focused on a crane game, not exactly knowing what he was so focused on getting but certainly going down the memory lane to a 12-year-old Donghyuck pulling an adorable teddy bear out of the game and giving it to you two days later with the hockey team’s jersey and his number in the back.

“I totally agree”, you muttered, smiling as you saw him pulling out the toy he’d gotten. He was so good at those games, at every game being honest. You still couldn’t believe you’d beaten him back in the day. Once the old lady handed you the coin-filled cups, you paid her and she handed you your change. As you counted the money, you realized something was off. “Excuse me, ma’am... you gave me extra change”. She shook her head, looking at you with that same smile. “Half of it is on the house, I let you pay the other half because the young man told me that you were quite stubborn”, she giggled, “Now, go and have fun! Live while you’re young”.

You smiled, thanking her as you walked back towards Donghyuck. He smiled back at your happiness, handing you an adorable stuffed animal. “How come you’re so good at those games?”, you asked him while giggling. “It’s just a matter of space measuring, calculating the probabilities of the toy slipping out or falling off the crane, choosing the most available toy out of the bunch... and I’m boring you”, he smiled nervously as he saw you looking at the toy, an adorable white bear with a red bow. You looked at him again only to find him scratching the back of his neck.

“You weren’t, I like that about you, Hyuck”, you answered honestly. “I hate it when people are overconfident while giving answers to those questions, like when they say ‘I just can’ or that sort of stuff”, he looked at you while you spoke, making you feel listened to. He was truly listening to every single word that came out of your lips as if it was the most interesting speech ever.

Because he loved listening to you.

You spent every single coin playing different games, just like you did when you were kids, breaking your own records in every single machine you played in. You laughed the whole evening, and yet again, you managed to beat Donghyuck in every single game. “Booyah! In your face, twentieth game in a row!”, you mocked him, making your old little victory dance as he smiled, sighing. “Damn, you haven’t lost your touch”, he said, pretending to feel defeated, “Are you hungry yet?”, he asked you kindly. You nodded, and both of you made your way to the cafeteria, as you jokingly bragged about your smashing victory.

The old lady was patiently waiting for you to show up, with two gorgeous bacon cheeseburgers, french fries, and two milkshakes, what Donghyuck had told her to serve you the night prior. You looked at him in shock, “You remember all of this?”, you smiled as you sat down, thanking the lady when she left you your food. “It’s the house’s special, how could I forget it?”, he replied, as if wasn’t anything special. However, you knew deep down his intentions were all the opposite. You started eating, nearly crying at the sensation of memories flooding your head as soon as you gave it a bite. “It’s been so long since I’ve last had a burger this good”, you admitted. It wasn’t pretty usual for you to hang around these places anymore. It was pretty far away from your reach, yet Lee Donghyuck made it his task to make you remember the good old days.

“Why did you bring me here? I want the truth, Hyuck”, you demanded once you were done eating. He looked at you while taking a sip of his strawberry milkshake, swallowing before giving you an answer. “Well, a few years ago, on your birthday, your mother hired an entire show from the old animatronics because your friends loved them”, he started the story, one you certainly remembered. “However, you were scared shitless of them, so you ran out of the room as soon as the lights turned off for them to start the show. You thought no one noticed, but I did. And I ran behind you, only to find you looking at the zombie videogame your friends wouldn’t want to play with you because they didn’t like it”.

He looked at his hands, playing with his fingers as he left out a small chuckle. “Back then, you had this silly nickname for me, because of a bear you saw at the zoo that was named that way”, he said, only for you to complete his sentence. “Haechan”, you smiled, and he nodded. “You looked at me and smiled, and you said ‘Why are you here, Haechan? You should be watching the show, mommy thought you’d like it’. And I took out the coins I had in my pocket and told you-”. “I bet killing zombies with you is more fun”, you muttered, making him smile as you remembered it too. “Mom was so pissed she didn’t find me when the animatronics started singing the birthday song”, you chuckled, making him laugh as well. “That night, as we played, I remember thinking ‘wow, her smile is so pretty’, and it wasn’t until you first made that victory dance of yours that I realized how much I liked you” he confessed finally, leaving you speechless for a second.

You were that girl, you really were the girl Lee Donghyuck was in love with.

“You like me?”, you asked, still shocked. He nodded, not really knowing what to do with his hands. “I’ve been wanting to let you know for the longest time, but whenever I gathered the guts to do it, you started dating someone else. So I decided to keep it to myself, to be there for you as a friend if you needed me. Because even if it hurt me to see your heart break, I wanted to be there to help you fix it”, he explained to you, as the tears started coming out of your eyes. “You mean... when I started dating Lucas... you were planning to confess to me?”, your voice cracked, making him stop everything and reach out to hug you. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, caressing your back. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything, nor to feel guilty or bad for me. I was upset, I’m not gonna lie... but I also decided to set you free. If you came back to me, it was because it was meant to be. And you came back every single time, so I waited until the right time until I finally decided it was now”, he told you, as you pulled back slightly to look at him in the eyes.

“Hyuck...”, you couldn’t manage to get any words out of your mouth, but he made you feel as if it was okay to leave him hanging after such an adorable confession. You felt like the biggest trash bag on Earth, and the way he treated you made you feel worse and at ease at the same time. “You need to heal, and I get that. You went through a lot with Johnny, and I know that. I’ll wait until you’re ready if you want me to, and I’ll totally leave my feelings aside if you want me to. I’ll leave it up to you”, he told you, caressing your cheeks and adjusting your hat back in its place. “Mark has a party over at his place, do you want to go?”, he asked you softly, wiping your tears away.

You sighed, looking down for a minute. “Hyuck, I’ll give you an answer, I promise”, you told him, which he let out a little giggle. “It’s truly okay, Y/N. Come on, Jeno told me Mark’s already bragging about his b-boy moves”, he told you, reaching out his hand again after leaving a good tip for the old lady, thanking her again before the two of you left. He always found a way to make you feel better, even when he was probably the most upset.

Because he loved you.

“Yo, Hyuck! You came just in time for another round of beer pong!” Mark greeted his friend as he saw the two of you walking into the party, crowded as usual for one of Mark Lee’s parties. “You guys look fresh! Make yourselves at home, drinks at the kitchen, snacks at the table, dance floor by the pool, and the rooms upstairs are exclusively reserved for the hockey team, so you’re staying over tonight, I’m not asking”. Hyuck looked at him, “Sure, because you’ll get so drunk tonight we’ll have to babysit you again”. Mark stopped in front of him, patting his shoulder. “You know me so well, Hyuckie”, he said, messing up his hair before going back to the party. “Ayo, Winwin! Let’s go get more booze!”.

You looked at Hyuck. “Do you want anything to drink?”, he asked you, raising his voice slightly for you to listen to him despite the loud music playing in the back. “Just some Coke” you replied, and he nodded, walking over to the kitchen as you looked around for Demi, finding her sitting on a couch near the beer pong table. You hugged her, noticing she looked a little excited. “I want every last drop of the scoop, how did it go?!”, she asked you, her smile nearly going from ear to ear. “He likes me, Dem, I’m the girl Jeno was talking about. And I blanked as soon as he confessed to me”, you said, quite embarrassed. “He planned the most adorable evening ever, he did all of these adorable things for it to be perfect... and I couldn’t even say anything”. Demi looked at you concerned, only to change her expression as soon as her attention drifted to someone walking over towards you. “Girl, I don’t mean to be rude, but we really should-”, she started as she helped you get up, only to be cut off by a voice you knew pretty well.

“I see it didn’t take long for you to go over with someone new, huh?”, he told you, looking at you dead in the eye. “Well, the difference, Johnny, is that I at least waited until breaking up with you”, you replied, certainly not scared of him. “Lee Donghyuck? That shitball, seriously? So you’re messing up with my reputation for being some faggot’s cover?”, he asked you, chuckling at the idea, making Jeno and the rest of the hockey team walk over towards you as soon as they acquired awareness of the situation. “You ain’t not even a quarter of the man he is”, you replied and felt him grabbing onto your neck, freezing at the closeness. “Oh, yeah? That wasn’t what you said when I made you my bitch”.

“Hey, asshole!”, you felt released as someone pushed Johnny off of you. Demi held you protectively as Jeno walked over to the two of you, checking out to see if you were okay. “Oh, if it’s the man of the moment, I was looking for you to give you my congratulations, I guess some people settled with used things”, Johnny mocked, only to receive another push from Donghyuck. “You can say all you want about me, but leave her alone or else”. Johnny laughed in his face, “You? You will beat me? You would risk getting your ass kicked for some wasted-ass bitch? Face the facts, Lee! Lucas used her, I used her, God knows how many more have, she’s a fucking slut-!”, he was about to say something else when Donghyuck threw the first punch, with such strength it left Johnny bleeding. You gasped, knowing well enough Hyuck wasn’t the fighting type, let alone the type to start a fight, let’s not even mention starting a fight with the school’s martial arts champion.

As soon as he got punched, you felt your heart stuck in your throat. He tried throwing punches at Johnny, but the ladder returned them faster and harder. Jeno, Yangyang, Sungchan, and Ten rushed to break down the fight, looking at how Hyuck’s blood started to stain the floor. “Enough!”, Mark yelled walking into his house with Winwin and the booze they went for, with that authority voice that made him so respected and loved by everyone in his class. “Johnny, get the fuck out of my house! I give two shits, you have absolutely no right to disrespect my team captain, nor a friend of mine, nor a lady, not under my fucking roof! Get the fuck out before I call the cops!”, Ten walked him out before he looked for further trouble, mouthing a “sorry” your way. You rushed over to Donghyuck, looking at Mark once you realized how his face was bleeding.

“Do you have any first-aid kit?”, you asked him. “Upstairs, third door to the right”, he guided you. You held Hyuck’s hand and guided him over with you, quite concerned about the mess left. Jeno looked at you, knowing exactly what you were thinking. “We’ll clean this up and keep things going as if nothing happened, you go and make sure he’s alright”, he told you, “That idiot thinks everything so damn much, I can’t believe he didn’t think this through... just go with him, it’s gonna be alright” you nodded lightly. You would, you had to make sure he was alright because that fight made you realize just how different he was from every idiot you’ve dated.

Because it made you realize how much he loved you.

Having taken off Seulgi’s coat to keep it away of the blood, you found yourself tending to Hyuck’s wounds in one of the bedrooms bathroom. However, he looked more concerned about you than he was about anything related to his well-being. “Stop”, you ordered. “Stop what?”, he asked, authentically confused. “You know it’s not the first time anyone slut-shames me, right?”, you told him, passing a cotton bud over a slit in his lip. At least once the blood was off, it didn’t look that bad anymore. “It’s quite curious, due to how many campaigns women around the world hold against it, to think that the first ones to publicly degrade me were all girls”, you sighed, not wanting to look at him as you spoke. “Every girl that liked Lucas, every girl Johnny cheated on me with, every girl who wouldn’t make it past the cheerleading tryouts...”, you cleaned the mess you’d made, throwing every last piece of cotton you’d used into the trash bin.

“At this point, you could even say I’m used to it. I would even hear made-up stories about how I would be up for gangbangs with Johnny and his friends, how I sold some old man my nudes for him to pay my college tuition, how I was the one who made Seulgi and Irene bisexual...”, you finally sighed, letting out the tears you’ve held back so long it started hurting. Hyuck noticed that, and just like he did in the cafeteria, he held you close. “I’m tired, Hyuck”, you finally admitted, and he caressed your hair. “I know”, he muttered. “I’m so fucking broken I’m afraid to break the only guy who’s ever really loved me right”, you cried out, just wanting to let everything out as you pulled away from his hug, wanting to look at him as you confessed what has been going on in your heart. “Because I fucking love you, Hyuck... but I’m not even close to deserving-”.

You were cut off by his lips crashing onto yours, a sweet and delicate kiss was what you got as a response. Once he slowly pulled away, he looked at you in the eyes, his hands lightly resting on your cheeks. “You deserve the universe and more, nothing less”, he muttered. The tingling sensation that kiss left on your lips was something you’d never felt after kissing anyone before. And it was the final push for you to finally give in, for you to finally let yourself be loved.

You pulled him close again, your lips crashing on each other as your hands wrapped around his neck, his hands falling from your cheeks all the way to your waist, hugging you the way you did with him. The kiss felt so natural you just sunk into it, as well as he did. Even when his head was going insane with all kinds of questions, he decided to shut them off and follow his own advice.

He’d let things flow.

You broke apart only to guide Hyuck back to the bedroom, he looked at you as he read through your intentions. “Are you sure about this?”, he asked you, caressing your cheek. You nodded, looking at him with loving eyes. “This is the first time I’m a hundred percent sure I want to do this”, you told him. He took a deep breath and walked over to the door, locking it first than anything. He looked nervous, and what the girls had said earlier came to your mind.

“Is this your first time?”, you asked him, to which he nodded, an adorable blush tinting his cheeks. You smiled at him, he looked so adorable you wondered who was that intimidating hockey player everyone saw in the field. “It’s okay, just guide me wherever you feel like going, I’ll follow you”, you told him as you got close to him again. You learned to be cautious ever since you lost your virginity, you’d taken birth control very seriously since day one because your mother and your friends guided you to do so. So even now, when the moment came, you were calm knowing it would be alright, and you wanted Hyuck to feel that as well.

He held your waist, pulling you closer lightly and guiding you into a kiss that got more intense with time, he pulled away for a while only to sit down on the bed, pulling you into his lap to start kissing you again. Your hands grabbed his cheeks, caressing them as the kiss kept going. His hands ran down your back as the heat started rising between you, Hyuck’s kissing abilities were way beyond average, those lips of his felt like cotton candy against yours, and every time your tongue met his, you felt one step closer to heaven. He pulled you away briefly to strip down his torso, and your hands felt curious to wander around his strong build.

He played with the bottom of your t-shirt, looking at you before doing anything else. “Can I?”, he asked gently, his constant asking for consent made you even more sure you were doing the right thing. You nodded and helped him out pulling the red shirt off, revealing your black plain underwear. Once your tops were thrown somewhere on the bedroom floor, he went back to kissing you, his kisses slowly going down your neck as you reached your back to undo your bra, letting your chest fully naked for him to kiss. He took that as your consent, and his kisses went all the way down to your breasts as his hands caressed your back once more.

Little moans left your mouth as Hyuck started kissing sensitive spots of your skin, the fact that he used his mouth to roam around your skin was enough to make you feel like this was the best you’ve ever been treated in bed, and adding up the amount of love you could practically touch in him made you enjoy everything even more. You could feel something starting to press against your core as you started grinding over Donghyuck’s lap. “Fuck, you’re driving me insane, princess”, he groaned, in such a raspy voice it made you want more. You kept grinding against him, loving the small grunts that would come out of his mouth as he kept kissing you.

From one moment to another, you felt the bedsheets in your back, as Hyuck took off his pants, feeling the pressure of his throbbing erection painful enough to rush things up a little bit. Still, he managed to be somewhat delicate "throwing" you over the bed. Once there was nothing but his black boxers keeping him from complete nudity, he crawled on top of you, looking at the button of your jeans to ask "Can I?". You unbuttoned your pants while looking at the guy with a pretty smile, biting on your lower lip as he smiled at you, undoing the zip and taking the heavy fabric off your legs, then looking at your black lacey underwear to ask yet again: "Can I?". You giggled, sitting down only to reach for his lips.

He kissed back as your hand guided his to your dripping center. He looked at you, as his head made an effort to figure out what to do at this point, but remembering the shows he watched with the guys, he figured to start moving his fingers up and down, to his luck, on what turned to be your clit. Small moans made their way out of your lips, and due to your arousal, his fingers managed to slip inside you. He kissed you as he kept moving his hand at a medium pace until you pulled him away, only to leave him face up over the bed. You looked at him, playing with the elastic band of his Calvin Klein underwear.

"Can I?", you asked him softly, only for him to chuckle in embarrassment. He nodded lightly, making you smile as he watched your every move. Once his boxers were no longer a burden, you sat on his lap, making him curse as you started moving on top of him. "You'll set the pace", you told him, leaning down to kiss on his lips. And as soon as he aligned his throbbing erection to your entrance and slowly entered you, he swore he could see the stars. With his hands on your hips, he commanded you to go slowly, as you both moaned out how good it felt. Nice and slow, an expression you hadn't known before, certainly became your favorite after that night. And you kept kissing through the whole thing.

Because that's how much you loved each other.

After that steamy moment, you laid next to him after he helped you cleanse, your body holding his closely as he kept your hand in his heart and his arms surrounded you, one of his hands playing with your hair. He looked at you adoringly, unable to find fitting words to how beautiful you looked to his eyes in that moment. You closed your eyes for a few minutes, listening to his calm, steady breath and feeling his heart beating under your hand. For a moment, he even thought you'd fallen asleep, and that made everything ten times better to him. You slowly opened your eyes, finding that adorable smile you loved so much.

You smiled back, looking him in the eyes. "I thought you would be tired", you muttered, caressing his chest lightly. "I'm way too over the clouds to fall asleep right now, Y/N", he replied softly, making you lean over to kiss him lightly again. You looked at the hour in the digital clock that sat on the nightstand, it was 1:27 AM and the party seemed far from over. The music was still as loud as it was when you walked into the room to tend his wounds. You chuckled as you thought about the people you'd left downstairs, "Do you think Jeno and Demi are waiting for us?", you asked Hyuck, making him laugh a little. "Well, I hope they sorted things out if they are. Jeno was quite concerned earlier", he sighed, making you think the situation through.

Demi would leave in just a few days for that summer program, and Jeno would stay for the hockey team's summer camp, which was pretty much mandatory if he planned to keep his place as a headline player in the team. You knew how important he was to the team, but you also knew Jeno loved your best friend more than anything. And you knew for fact distance wasn't compatible with relationships.

"I think Jeno bought that plane ticket in the end", Hyuck shrugged, making you look at him in shock. "What do you mean?", you asked him. "Well, ever since Demi first applied for the program, he talked to the coach about it. Of course, the coach took a while to understand his issues, but as soon as we won the championship again, he gave Jeno the greenlight", he explained you, staring at the ceiling as he spoke. "Mark and I offered to help him with the expenses, and the coach even booked him in a good hockey camp in London", he smiled at the thought. "However, he's held back because he knows how much this means to Demi, and he didn't want her to lose focus because of him. If there's one thing the coach taught us well, was to get our head in the game as soon as we entered the field, and he didn't want to keep her from doing that. But I think Demi and him talked about it today, because he looked happy while talking to the guys before the fight".

You looked at him still in disbelief, making him giggle. "Is there something on my face?", he asked, and you jokingly punched him. "I thought he and Demi would break up! How could you know about all of this and not tell me?", he giggled and held you close again, as you "fought back", pretending to be angry. "Don't be mad at me, princess. Jeno had his reasons to keep my love for you a secret from Demi, I had mine not to tell you about this", he asked you softly. "They will be having fun in London, you and I will stay here. I think we should join them downstairs if neither one of us can sleep, just so you can have the tea spilled from them".

However, you shook your head. "No, the door is still locked and I still want some sort of compensation for keeping me from knowing my OTP found a way to make it through the challenges of life!", you asked as you grabbed his cheeks, making him smile and sigh. "Say no more", he said, turning the lamp off before kissing you again.

Happy Valentine’s season, everyone! If you love someone, let them know.

[plumoh]

[SK8] at all times, at all sides

Rating: T

Word count: 7409

Summary: Kaoru is shaped by the choices he makes and the people surrounding him. And through the years, Kojirou was there in one way or another.

Note: AO3 link. This was posted a while after Kaoru’s birthday, as a character study of sorts, birthday by birthday. I make the assumption that in the present day, Kaoru and Kojirou are 27-28 years old.There is a brief mention of alcohol at age 20, and Kaoru is a bit drunk at age 26.

15.

Kaoru gets two additional piercings on his left ear on his fifteenth birthday.

The first one, at what is considered a normal place for an earring in the middle of the earlobe, was done as an impulsive act of brashness to show off to his friends at school at the beginning of the year. He likes the attention. The family name attached to him makes people gasp when they see him with holes in his ear, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t bring him some sort of satisfaction. It’s kind of ridiculous and entirely too stiff an attitude to be offended by some nails stuck into someone else’s skin, as if it changes who he fundamentally is. Besides, piercings are cool.

So Kaoru gets two additional piercings, a helix piercing and another one in the earlobe, and Kojirou whistles.

“You sure your parents won’t cut off your entire ear for that?” he asks, his gaze appraising Kaoru’s new look.

“I’ll live with only one ear, then,” Kaoru answers, shrugging. “What do you think? I look cool, right?”

Kaoru gestures to his ear, grinning and looking at Kojirou expectantly. He knows that he must be acting like a child who got permission to eat a second candy after dinner, but it’s his birthday and he feels he can be excited for what is, essentially, a new approach to his lifestyle. He paid for these piercings with his own pocket money (and money earned through foolish bets and challenges, and he’s thankful that most skaters are stupid).

Kojirou hums, his face pinched in intense concentration. Kaoru rolls his eyes.

“That’s a yes or no question, Kojirou.”

“Let me give you a complete review of your new fashion style, impatient bastard,” Kojirou says.

“I don’t need a complete review! They’re just piercings!”

Kojirou always takes forever when asked to give his opinion on any topic, be it about his younger brother’s latest baseball game or the best suited color for a piece of garment Kaoru’s mother has decided to wear for an important meeting. It’s utterly unnecessary and a waste of time—Kaoru isn’t asking Kojirou to write an essay about his piercings.

“Just answer the question,” Kaoru says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, if you like your piercings so much, maybe show them off more?” Kojirou sighs. “I don’t know, you have more hair than any human being is supposed to have. It hides the piercings.”

Kaoru snorts. “Complain to my mother about that.”

But Kaoru entertains the idea.

16.

Keeping his hair long is a simple matter of preference. There is no rule in his family stating that its members should have a specific length of hair, so why not? Very few boys and men have it this long, and Kojirou always asks him why he bothers taking care of such a useless physical feature when all it does is getting into his way when he skates. Kaoru admits he does have a point, but he likes his hair.

Kaoru is currently tying it into a ponytail, lazily skating on the sidewalk around their neighborhood. Kojirou is skating at his side eating an entire soda flavored Garigari-kun popsicle, shoving it into his mouth and crunching into the ice because he likes having brain freeze.

“Hey, it’s your birthday next week,” Kojirou announces, like it’s the most thrilling event of the week. “Did you plan something? Wanna go explore some new skating areas?”

Kaoru flips his hair over his shoulder and shrugs. Kojirou is looking at him curiously, almost intently, and that makes Kaoru raise an eyebrow.

“Nothing special, but it’s also on the same day as some renown calligrapher from Tokyo visiting our studio. So yeah.”

“All the way from Tokyo? That sounds important.”

“Maybe. I didn’t really pay attention.”

Simply thinking about all the formal procedures that will take place in his house and the fact he will have to be on his “best behavior, please, Kaoru” is pissing him off. He’s not interested in hearing about the works of this supposedly famous and talented calligrapher bestowing upon their modest family his knowledge and wise advice. Kaoru doesn’t even know why he still attends the calligraphy lessons when he’s pretty sure he’ll go into computer science or something. His parents are always on his case about maintaining his posture and improving his strokes every day, and at some point Kaoru started obeying to make their noisy demands stop. He doesn’t genuinely hate the art itself; he simply thinks that his time is better spent elsewhere. What does calligraphy have when computers can do much more fascinating stuff?

Kojirou is nibbling at the popsicle stick, eyeing him with that critical look he often gets when he considers throwing paper balls at Kaoru in class, or when he thinks that Kaoru needs a snack to calm down, like some fucking animal he’s trying to tame—Kaoru hates that somehow, food always works.

“You want to ditch?” Kojirou asks as neutrally as possible, but Kaoru hears the sympathy in his voice. Which is appreciated, but unnecessary.

“No, I was actually thinking of scandalizing my parents by cutting my hair and having it cropped short,” Kaoru says with a half-feral grin. “Like, strands of hair sticking everywhere and impossible to make it look presentable.”

Kojirou almost stumbles on his skateboard, even though it’s a straight line and he wasn’t even pushing with his feet on the concrete.

“What?! But you never shut up about your hair!”

“You fucking liar, I only ever say I like having it long!”

“Yeah, that still makes it stupid! Why would you cut your hair if you like it long?”

“Because hair grows again?”

“Not as fast as you’d think, if you even thought about it before blurting out you want to get a bowl cut.”

“Disheveled and rowdy haircut, not a bowl cut, you idiot!”

They make a turn at the corner of the street, expertly avoiding a kid walking her dog and dodging the woman carrying groceries behind her, not without getting scolded for skating in residential areas (or skating at all) but those are words that go in one ear and exit in the other. Kaoru smiles to himself and kicks into the ground to get more speed, jumps and flips his board in the air before landing on it again with minimal risk of smashing his face in the concrete. He lifts a fist in the air with a whooping cry.

“Oh hey, that was a good one!” he exclaims, giving Kojirou a radiant grin.

“You mastered this trick long ago, why are you so excited?” Kojirou grumbles.

“Because it felt nice, that’s all. Be happy about the small things in life, that’s what you keep saying.”

“Sometimes I feel you’re purposely throwing back my words at my face only when it’s convenient for you.”

“I always listen to you, even if it might come as a surprise.”

Kaoru laughs, spinning his board and continuing on a straight line, ahead of Kojirou. Today’s weather is pleasant and he can’t wait for the end of the school year at the end of the week to go skating all day. It will come with more calligraphy practice, but at least he will have time for his other hobbies too. And if he can’t focus on anything at home, he can still go to Kojirou’s place and bother him all day.

“Then don’t cut your hair!” Kojirou shouts, catching up to him.

The lines on Kojirou’s face are weird, all upset and a bit worried, and that’s not an expression Kaoru is used to see when they’re talking about haircuts, of all things. Maybe when they’re doing their geography homework or when they’ve spent one hour practicing tricks and got more bruises than actual results, but not hair.

“What’s up with you?” Kaoru asks, slowing down. “It’s just my hair. It’s a good prank.”

“You’re going to look like a bird’s nest for at least three months, you okay with that?” Kojirou retorts.

“That’s not the worst thing in existence. And if I recall, you told me last year I should show off my piercings more, so having short hair would effectively do that.”

Kojirou groans and drags a hand across his face, almost looking defeated.

“Just style it in a way that makes your piercings visible, then,” Kojirou adds. “You… have nice hair.”

Kaoru blinks. Kojirou looks straight ahead, his posture stiff, determined not to turn his head in Kaoru’s direction.

“I have nice hair,” Kaoru repeats.

“Yes.”

“You don’t want me to cut my hair because it looks nice?”

“Yes.”

“That might be the most honest compliment you’ve ever said to me.”

“Shut up, I’m never complimenting you ever again!”

Kojirou speeds up, but not before Kaoru catches a glimpse of his reddening ears. The situation is starting to make even less sense, but seeing Kojirou so flustered over nothing is piquing Kaoru’s interest and his lips stretch in a wide grin. Kaoru joins Kojirou in their less-than-recommended skating speed.

“Okay, but you’re being weird!” Kaoru shouts over the sound of their wheels scratching against the ground. “Was that an offer to style my hair?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Kojirou mutters.

“You’re the one who suggested it, you can’t drop the topic!”

It’s almost comical to see two teenagers loudly arguing about a pointless subject while skateboarding and avoiding any obstacles they come across, as if being on a board is the same as walking. Passersby shoot them quizzical looks and a lot of adults are clearly not approving their noise level.

They end up skating all the way to the playground near the elementary school of the neighborhood, where a few kids are playing while their parents are watching over them. There is a skating park farther away, but people are already using it and Kaoru doesn’t like skating with people not part of their crew unless he’s looking for a fight. So they keep skating around, at a lower speed because colliding with children won’t exactly look good on either of them.

“Fine, keep being stubborn, you asshole,” Kaoru grumbles. “I’ll get another piercing.”

Kojirou finally jerks his head towards Kaoru, his expression a lot less constipated and more curious. “On such a short notice?”

“I’ll find a way. And even if I can’t get it done before my birthday, it will still be infuriating for my parents.”

Kaoru taps at his lower lip, not missing the way Kojirou’s eyes follow the movement with rapt attention.

“I wanted to get a lip ring, anyway,” he says.

There is something simply enthralling in a lip ring—the light catches on it, and people are immediately in admiration when they see it. Not everyone has the guts to get one, after all.

Kojirou slowly nods, tearing his gaze away from Kaoru’s face.

“If you want,” he says. “I don’t see any problem with that.”

“You’re so weird today.” Kaoru rolls his eyes.

“You’re the weird one, obsessed with piercings.”

“You just wish you could be as cool as me. Race you to my home!”

“Damn it Kaoru, stop cheating!”

Kaoru ignores Kojirou and launches himself at full speed to make his skateboard pivot and turn around, going back from the way they came. Kojirou is still yelling at him.

Kaoru doesn’t manage to get his lip pierced before his birthday, but he does sweep the left side of his hair behind his head and keep it in place with a hair clamp, leaving his earrings in plain sight. To the calligrapher’s credit, upon seeing who the supposed Sakurayashiki heir is, he makes only the vaguest noise of shock before getting into business. Kaoru smiles all throughout the visit.

17.

Kaoru’s seventeenth birthday remains one of the most special days of his life.

He got gifts, snacks and high-fives from various people whom he cares more or less about (the crew bought a cake but Kaoru only got a thin slice of it because they are greedy bastards), while Kojirou bought him a book on AI that was way too expensive even if he has a part-time job salary (Kaoru wrestled him to the ground when he recognized the book).

Adam takes them skating in a place they’ve never explored before.

It’s beautiful. Exciting, captivating and alluring, making them use all their senses to turn at the right time, to ride down a hill without losing control, and to feel the full path reverberated through their bodies in shock waves. Skateboarding is fun, but this is on another level entirely—it’s like sliding on the edge of a cliff, giving heart palpitations but also an intoxicating feeling of a game that needs to be beaten, whose ending is all worth these efforts.

The three of them are skating as if wings sprouted on their back, uncaring of the world outside of their little bubble of thrills. Kaoru watches in fascination as Adam seems to fly across the track, smooth in his skating and unconcerned with the bumpy road. The wind seems to be an inconsequential factor in his descent in the slope, moving along with it and never straying far from the road. It’s subjugating, it’s beautiful, it’s freedom.

“Watch where you’re skating, idiot!” Kojirou yells right next to him, startling Kaoru out of his reverie.

Kaoru crouches low and makes a sharp turn, avoiding a rock that would have sent him sprawling. He straightens and keeps going at a controlled pace, glaring at Kojirou.

“I know what I’m doing!” he grunts.

“You almost smacked that wall with your face,” Kojirou points out with a glare of his own. “Stop getting distracted.”

“I’m not distracted,” Kaoru snaps back automatically.

But the look Kojirou is giving him is indescribable, so foreign on his face and even more so as it is directed at Kaoru. There is something brewing in the air and Kaoru doesn’t like it, doesn’t want a chasm opening between them because of a stupid argument, but he doesn’t even know what made Kojirou so irritable in the first place.

Adam is waiting for them at the end of the path, watching them arriving at a sullen pace with a raised eyebrow. Kaoru stops right in front of him and plasters a smile on his face, much more eager to talk about they’ve come here for.

“That’s an amazing place! Skating here is so fun, we can make a challenge out of a lot of things in this mountain.”

“Yes, the turns are different and there are many slopes that we need to be careful of,” Adam agrees, smiling. “I truly believe we can accomplish a lot, if we do it together. I want to create a special race here for skaters to push their limits.”

Adam looks at Kaoru, then at Kojirou—the glint of mischief and of confidence reflected in his eyes is the same as the one that pulls everyone in his orbit, making them give their all to become the best. It’s a look that Kaoru feels inextricably drawn to, enamored with the unbridled possibilities he imagines behind words that promise a paradise of freedom grander than anything they’ve ever known.

“You both have skills that will be useful to establish this race,” Adam continues. “People are following you and your skating is among the best. I said before that you guys were special, and I mean it.”

Kaoru does not preen, but the shivers that course through his body as Adam opens his heart are ones that feel pleasant, almost addictive. His grin splits his face in two.

“You can count on us, we’re going to create the best skating race in existence,” Kaoru assures. “Right, Kojirou?”

“Yeah, of course!”

Kojirou’s earnest tone is almost a relief—he’s clearly as excited about this race as them, and Kaoru would have been seriously worried if that wasn’t the case.

For the first time, the joyous expression on Adam’s face seems to be born out of sincerity plucked from the deepest corner of his heart. It suits him; it makes him look even more radiant than usual. Kaoru can’t look away.

“It’s decided, then,” Adam says. “The three of us, inaugurating the “S” race. Together.”

On that day, when Kaoru turned seventeen and his mind was filled with nothing but skateboarding, he thought that this is what belonging felt like.

18.

Sitting perfectly straight, legs tucked under him, Kaoru picks up a brush, dips it into ink he has carefully ground, presses it against the sheet of paper and splashes black trails all over it. The ink drips outside of the frame and stains the tatami floor of the study he hasn’t bothered to protect, littering everything in dark, angry marks that resemble the work of a child throwing a tantrum.

There is no word, no poem written on his paper. Half of the inkstick is grossly used up, its tip almost falling apart, like it wasn’t deemed worthy of being respected as one of the treasures of calligraphy. Kaoru is filling the paper with nothing but emptiness.

It’s not even rage moving his arm like a possessed demon. It would have been easier to deal with, if it was rage; handling it requires minimal effort, as he can mindlessly let his heart wreak havoc upon anything his hands come into contact with, or he can scream all the grievances he’s bottled up to clear the space occupied by unpleasant thoughts. Rage is physical, in and out, and Kaoru’s had years of practice getting rid of it.

But this is not rage that nudges him in the direction of destroying a perfectly good piece of paper with expensive ink and an even more expensive brush, tarnishing their quality and the noble use they are destined to. It’s cold and quiet resignation, trapping him in his own mind as he lets himself be selfish one last time and act out in childish anger.

Kaoru’s eighteenth birthday is spent alone, grieving his dream of ever cutting ties with family traditions. He hasn’t touched a skateboard in months and he hasn’t tinkered with his AI program in even longer. There was no point anyway—Kojirou has other things to focus on, and Adam left.

Kaoru was a fool to think he was strong and resolute enough to follow a path that is not written with the same deep ink as the one he’s used all his life.

20.

“You can legally drink now, congrats.”

“Great. I can sip my alcohol in the presence of guests and pretend I’m enjoying their company when all I want is getting drunk.”

“That’s not very professional, soon-to-be Sakurayashiki-sensei.”

“You’re one to talk, I bet you’re consuming way too many beers at those parties. Has gaining muscle mass made you lose brain cells?”

“Hey, you four-eyes, that was uncalled for!”

There is something moving behind Kojirou, a door opening and someone poking his head inside, and Kojirou turns his head to rattle off a few words in Italian before facing the camera again. Chin resting in his palm, Kaoru is watching with a raised eyebrow Kojirou’s roommate rummage through Kojirou’s dressing, before retreating back into the corridor.

“Does he make a habit to walk around your shared apartment half-naked?” Kaoru asks.

Kojirou laughs, waving his hand. “He was looking for a clean shirt, he forgot to do laundry yesterday. I told him he could borrow one of mine.”

“I’m surprised you still find shirts your size with the way your body’s taking the shape of a gorilla’s.”

“Just admit you’re jealous of my perfect muscles.”

Kojirou makes a show of flexing his bicep and Kaoru snorts.

“Yeah, I’m so jealous of that gorilla body that is unnecessarily big.” Kaoru deadpans.

“Believe it or not, it makes skating a lot more fun too,” Kojirou adds with a smile. “More power in the legs to do tricks.”

Kojirou looks...satisfied with the direction his life is taking. Kaoru is happy for him—studying abroad in culinary school and discovering a whole new culture seems to be the change of pace Kojirou needed. Sometimes Kaoru wishes he could also skate in the places full of pipes and curvy roads that Kojirou shows him, but he has to make do with the familiar tracks he’s skated on all his life.

“I upgraded Carla to calculate distances faster and to automatically record what she sees,” Kaoru says with a hint of smugness.

“Your AI having a girl’s name will never stop being weird,” Kojirou groans. “Why haven’t you chosen something normal like “Ghost Voice” or “Robotico”?”

“An AI is not a robot.” Kaoru pinches the bridge of his nose, already tired of having to repeat this for the umpteenth time. “Your Roomba is a robot. Carla recognizes many more things than the shape of your apartment.”

“Then program Carla to clean my apartment too.”

“Carla isn’t a vacuum cleaner, you dimwit!”

“That’s a big shame, maybe you should also create an AI cooking for you!”

Kaoru opens his mouth to reply something scathing, then snaps it shut. On the screen, Kojirou frowns.

“Don’t,” Kojirou warns.

“We have enough resources and data to program an AI that creates recipes from a list of ingredients,” Kaoru says anyway. “If we implement it into a robot, with the correct code and careful adjustments, then maybe it will be a decent cook.”

“If you start making a cook AI I don’t want to heart about it,” Kojirou mutters.

Kaoru rolls his eyes. “Do you think I have enough hours in a day to focus on another project? Carla already requires my full attention.”

There is no need for him to say that calligraphy practice is what he does most of the day, if he’s not attending courses on speech or on business. It’s his life now; he chose to become the next Sakurayashiki calligrapher and he can’t back down now. Not that he’s ever fully considered leaving calligraphy behind for one of his better, more interesting hobbies—and this was exactly the problem. He never untied his hands from the string tethering him to a brush.

“You always want to work on something, so I’m expecting anything from you when you’re bored,” Kojirou says with a smirk.

“Maybe my next project will make gorillas like you shut up.”

Kaoru is twenty years old, discovering every day new aspects of himself in a professional environment, but one thing that never changes is the comfort of simply existing as himself when he talks to Kojirou.

22.

Kaoru spends a couple of years simmering in feelings he doesn’t acknowledge.

He isn’t someone who takes the time to reflect on his own feelings, negative or positive. They simply happen and he decides on whether to act on them—which has been true since he was a child, throwing tantrums when he didn’t like the task he was asked to do, kicking someone he didn’t agree with as a teenager, and deflecting when answering journalists’ questions that would force him to look deep into his heart. He lives in the moment and tries very hard not to burden himself with useless thoughts and regrets he can’t act upon.

He doesn’t dwell more than necessary on his choice to inherit the family calligraphy studio, because it will lead to nothing productive. He has perhaps harbored ill feelings towards calligraphy in the past, but they’re not so visceral he can’t execute the job he’s been trained for since he could hold a brush. Sometimes he thinks he could have rejected everything he’s been taught and disappoint his family for the rest of his life, but he immediately chases the thought away and decides that suffering through a successful career of calligrapher appears to be a small sacrifice compared to the headaches that would have come with removing himself from the Sakurayashiki studio.

He’s a full grown adult, by society’s standards. He shed his sweaters for yukatas and took off his piercings with reluctance, feeling like he ripped off a part of himself that’s been with him forever to fit into a mold he’s accepted as his new normal. Those were remnants of his old, carefree life that he abandoned, and it’d be preposterous to wish for things to have gone differently.

At least he has his AI—a new spin to a traditional art that is resistant to change. Carla is efficient, impressive and shocks people into admiration; Kaoru has upgraded and improved the code as many times as it required, making her compatible with every device in his possession so that she could accompany him in all his tasks. Skating became a game of precision, detail and finesse, aiming for perfection beyond what the average mind would think of. Calligraphy is enhanced and magnified, the digital aspect adding beauty in an art that is almost exclusively done by hand. Incorporating technology in his otherwise boring job undoubtedly made his days easier and more fun.

Kaoru isn’t dissatisfied. He can do better, but he could have done worse. However, if there is one thing that makes him antsy it’s the realization that he’s seeing less of Kojirou with each passing day, and he would have never thought it would leave a growing ache in his chest every time he thinks about it.

They have their own lives to live. It’s part of growing up—and he hasn’t completely lost his best friend yet.

25.

They have been wandering the streets of Paris for exactly ten minutes and Kaoru is already starting to regret his decision.

“It’s not that hard to read a map,” he seethes, trying to grab Kojirou’s phone.

Kojirou lifts the device higher and turns his back on Kaoru, stubbornly keeping his eyes riveted on the screen.

“I’ve got this, stop distracting me,” Kojirou says.

“The metro station is right there, let’s just change itinerary, stupid gorilla!”

“You want to take the metro when we could explore the city on foot?”

“The probability of getting shitted on by pigeons is way too high for my liking.”

This gets an undignified snort from Kojirou, more amused than mocking though Kaoru knows not to assume when every one of his words can be thrown back at his face later on.

They do end up taking the metro. They can go anywhere in Paris by bus or metro, making it extremely convenient to find their way but it gets overwhelming really fast—the metro lines seem to be full of people at all hours of the day, according to Kaoru’s extensive research before their trip, and they are nothing like the monorail they have back in Okinawa. Most passengers are focused on their phones, while others are taking a quick nap, which is not that different from what they’re used to.

“It can’t be worse than the Tokyo rail lines,” Kaoru mutters as they’re being shaken by the train doing a particularly sharp and violent turn.

“You’ve never been to Tokyo,” Kojirou replies with a raised eyebrow.

“I did last year for a meeting.”

“And that single trip was enough for you to get the full experience of the infamous rush of Tokyo’s Yamanote line?”

“I wasn’t saying I used the Yamanote line, imbecile. All trains are crowded. I think you wouldn’t have been able to squeeze in with your gorilla body.”

“At least I’m not at risk of going blind when someone knocks off my glasses by pushing me around in a crowd!”

“I always carry a second pair of glasses with me to avoid this kind of incident!”

It’s probably a good thing that this line of metro makes the same level of noise as a tractor revved up at full power, because their arguing is by no means quiet and people are starting to stare at them. But as soon as Kaoru glances at them, they avert their eyes and pretend they weren’t gawking. Typical.

March weather is terrible. Their trip lasts one week, and there is an equal number of sunny days and of cloudy days, with high probability of rain. It shouldn’t be normal to have a changing weather so unpredictable that it makes planning for their day a real pain in the ass. Kojirou is already complaining about the sun beginning to leave space for clouds at merely eleven in the morning, and Kaoru silently agrees with the sentiment.

The food is good, at least.

“Reminds me a bit of what restaurants looked like in Italy,” Kojirou says around a mouthful of beef. “Maybe I can draw inspiration from those recipes.”

“It’s not Italian cuisine,” Kaoru points out. “Unless you intend to make a mixed menu.”

“Of course not, but the flavors can be useful.”

Kojirou is examining his piece of vegetable like a scientist observing an experiment under a microscope, as if it could give him the secrets of its cooking time or the spices used for it. Kaoru lightly kicks him under the table, and Kojirou hisses.

“Stop being weird and eat your food.”

“Do you really have to hit me every time you want to make a point?”

“I’m not hitting that hard.”

The other way around is more likely to happen; Kaoru won’t ever admit it but he doubts that Kojirou feels more pain than Kaoru does when he hits him. Those muscles are ridiculous and entirely unnecessary, honestly.

They take pictures at the landmarks and get mad at the long lines and narrow their eyes at the price of various food and drinks they stumble upon. They’re not short on money, but drinking a cup of café au lait at twice the price of what they can find in regular coffee shops doesn’t leave a good taste in their mouth. Kojirou uses the knowledge from his time in Italy to make educated guesses on whether they’re paying something at an unreasonable price or not—he looks a bit too smug doing so but Kaoru lets it slide for once and allows him to play the role of the brain for this specific aspect of their trip. Kaoru can at least trust Kojirou’s judgment when money is concerned (even if his intuition can be skewed sometimes).

“It’s only because it’s your birthday trip that I’m putting up with your need to visit museums,” Kojirou says, waving at the multiple pamphlets they gathered after three days of sightseeing.

“Having some culture ingrained in your mind is nothing but beneficial for you,” Kaoru retorts evenly.

Kojirou rolls his eyes, clearly not interested in that conversation, and gets up from his bed of their hotel room. It’s past midnight but they’re still wide awake. Sharing one room would be awkward or embarrassing for a lot of people, but Kaoru has known Kojirou half his life and it would be ridiculous to feel self-conscious now, when they’ve seen each other in various states of undress and wakefulness. Perhaps the only complaint Kaoru will voice that he didn’t have when he was thirteen is that the older Kojirou gets, the louder his snoring is (as if the noise level grows with the wideness of his body).

“Hey, Kaoru.”

Kaoru looks up from tomorrow’s schedule displayed on his phone to come face to face with a giant box of pastries and Kojirou’s bright grin. Kojirou is holding the box one-handed, slightly bent forward, like he would a tray to present his dish to his most loyal customers.

“Happy birthday, four-eyes,” Kojirou says on a light tone.

“Must you call me names when you’re wishing me happy birthday?” Kaoru scoffs, but he eyes the pastries with unconcealed interest.

They went to a bakery in the afternoon for a snack, buying a croissant, a pain au chocolat and a pain aux raisins because they apparently lack self control when it comes to cheap baked goods—but for some reason Kaoru missed the moment Kojirou acquired this box of pastries.

“It’s past midnight,” Kaoru reminds him.

Kojirou shrugs. “We’re grown adults and on holiday, I don’t think it’s much of a problem.”

“There are six different pastries in this box.”

“Nobody’s saying we should eat all of them right now, moron. Save some of them for tomorrow.”

They end up eating three pasties, one half each, while arguing about the pros and cons of buying smaller portions of different sweets over getting an entire cake for a birthday, as well as the point of starting celebrating said birthday at midnight instead of simply waiting for morning. They’ve had these conversations before, at Kaoru’s or Kojirou’s birthday over the years, but it seems they never grow sick of repeating the same arguments even when the topic is stupid.

It’s like a well-oiled machine; pushing on one button always leads to the same result. Kaoru and Kojirou argue because this is what they’re used to do, a response at their lips even before they hear the end of the other’s sentence. What comes out of their mouths takes the shape of banter but Kaoru, even though he usually ignores it, notices how at ease he is in these moments.

Kojirou invited him for this trip even if he didn’t have to, and bought pastries to share at midnight like they’re holding a small party. His face is illuminated by his generosity and his big heart that finds a way to carve itself in his eyes.

“Let’s go skating tomorrow afternoon, it will be fun,” Kojirou suggests, mischief and plain desire to have fun glimmering in his gaze.

And Kaoru can’t say no.

They brought their boards, like they did when they traveled to Los Angeles. It might sound like a waste of space in their luggage, but nobody has a say in what they consider fun. Kaoru had to change Carla’s battery for her to fall under airport regulation, which was a hassle on short notice (Kojirou dropped a plane ticket on Kaoru’s lap a week before departure, and Kaoru shoved back money at him but it somehow ended back in his hands after a few minutes of jostling) but definitely worth it, because there’s no way he will skate with a lower quality board.

On March 27th, when Kaoru turns twenty-five years old, he almost resorts to a more physical solution to win petty squabbles against skaters in another country, a behavior he was prone to display when he was seventeen. But he’s an adult who is traveling for leisure and isn’t foolish enough to ruin the trip by punching someone when he can skate away and show off with a few tricks involving exact calculations and perfect angles, so this is what he does—after Kojirou, admittedly, forced him to remain calm, as though he was his impulse control when Kojirou is just as quick to rise to a challenge.

Maybe the difference is that Kojirou isn’t a cocky bastard like Kaoru is. Debatable, but Kaoru won’t deny that he loves the feeling of achieving something flashy or impressive. Getting into trouble for it is always worth it, especially if Kojirou is there to live it with him. It’s never the same without Kojirou—they might bicker and have more arguments then actual conversations, but Kojirou’s a warm presence enveloping him in a tight hug he can never quite shake off.

The trip to Paris isn’t half-bad, and it’s full of memories with the person he trusts the most.

26.

Kojirou is very, very still when Kaoru finally stops fighting with himself and leans his head on his shoulder, completely wasted after drinking too much wine at this event gathering too many important people to talk to and drink with. The taxi is silent and all he can hear is the screech of the wheels on the asphalt.

“Rest until we reach your home,” Kojirou says, something akin to laughter in his voice.

“Hm.”

Kaoru registers the words coming out of Kojirou’s mouth, and judges them acceptable before closing his eyes and letting himself be rocked by the car drive. In his drunken haze, when he called Kojirou to be picked up, he forgot Kojirou lent his car to his little brother; remembering such an essential detail would have saved them a lot of trouble, but Kojirou called a taxi and is now sitting with Kaoru in the backseat instead of going back to his own home. What an idiot.

Kojirou helps him into his apartment, grumbling as his elbows hit the walls and his feet get caught in stray shoes in the genkan that Kaoru eventually wanted to sort out and put away. They manage to get to the couch, and Kaoru collapses on it without grace and lets out a long groan, draping an arm over his eyes.

“I’m not drinking at this sort of event again,” he complains.

“That’s your fault for not limiting yourself,” Kojirou sounds unimpressed. “You always say you’ll stop drinking but you keep doing it.”

“Half a glass with each guest is customary. Beyond that is called showing off.”

“So you’re showing off, stupid four-eyes.”

“Shut up, gorilla. I have something to prove.”

Kojirou’s sigh is filled with such apparent exasperation that Kaoru immediately realizes how petty and ridiculous he just sounded.

“On the day of your birthday, to top it all,” Kojirou says. “Do you need babysitting?”

“You are not going to babysit me,” Kaoru snaps. “I’ll just go to sleep.”

“Yeah, and you’ll start bitching tomorrow morning because you forgot to drink water and take a shower.”

“I’m not that incompetent, you giant brainless idiot.”

Kojirou doesn’t deign responding to his insult and slides behind the kitchen counter. Kaoru drops his arm and watches him rummaging through the cabinets with too much confidence for someone who doesn’t live there. Kojirou comes back with a glass of water and two slices of bread that Kaoru usually eats in the morning when he’s too lazy to make breakfast.

“You probably didn’t eat much, since your robophile brain was wired on ingesting wine.”

“I just said I don’t need your help,” Kaoru mutters.

Kojirou ignores him and deposits the items on the coffee table. He then sits down next to Kaoru, causing Kaoru to shift further on his side of the couch because of his needlessly big body.

“Do you have to sit so close to me?” Kaoru grumbles, leaning forward to snatch the water and the bread, pretending that his world didn’t start spinning as he did so. He takes a few sips of the water.

“Your couch isn’t large enough.”

“It’s your body that’s not average size, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“You’re suspiciously coherent for someone who says he’s drunk.”

Kaoru shrugs, foregoing manners as he speaks and munches on the bread at the same time. “My mind is clear, my thoughts aren’t confused in the least.”

“Right. What time is it?”

Kaoru looks at the time displayed on his TV box, sitting on the stand pushed against the opposite wall of where they’re sitting. He squints at the numbers, slightly blurry despite his glasses still resting on his nose. He has no idea what time it is.

“Eleven forty-seven,” Kaoru announces.

“No, it’s twelve forty-seven,” Kojirou snickers. “Finish that, take a shower and go to bed.”

“And you’re going to stay here and take up space in my apartment?”

“Well, if your event hadn’t run for so long, I would have spent some time with you anyway since it’s your birthday. So I might as well stay until you fall asleep.”

Several things get jumbled in his head at that moment, and Kaoru stares at Kojirou in disbelief. There’s something funny and warm happening in the pit of his stomach.

“You have nothing else to do,” Kaoru asks, or accuses—he doesn’t know how his voice comes across.

“Just go to sleep, Kaoru.”

Kojirou takes the empty glass from Kaoru’s hands and puts it on the table. He then tugs Kaoru upright, holding his wrists in a gentle and careful grip, as if Kaoru will break if he’s not handled in the most delicate manner. Half of the second slice of bread is lying abandoned in the plate, but Kaoru doesn’t particularly mind as he realizes, with strange clarity, that this isn’t unpleasant to be taken care of like this. Kojirou is smiling at him with his most genuine expression, and Kaoru has to look down to avoid his gaze, embarrassed and fulfilled and relieved all at once.

28.

It’s been a long time coming, Kaoru thinks as his fingers tangle in Kojirou’s hair and he brings him closer, always closer to him. The night is warm and too uncomfortable for a spring day, but the heat twisting his stomach is from something entirely separate. His lips meet Kojirou’s endlessly, like this act alone will make him absorb whatever Kojirou is willing to give to him for safekeeping. It’s the first time they’re kissing and yet it feels like they should have been doing this for years now, hiding under the shade of a tree or behind a rocky wall to share a private moment together, in a pocket of time that will burst only when they decide to drop all pretenses.

He knows it’s been a long time coming, because Kojirou is laughing against his lips, and when Kaoru cracks an eye open he sees how open and fond Kojirou’s face is. Kaoru immediately wants to close his eyes again and to stop noticing how luminous everything has become.

“We’re so dumb,” Kojirou says.

“You are stupid, for holding back all those years,” Kaoru retorts.

“Yeah, now it’s my fault for being considerate of your feelings towards me.”

“If you believed for one instant that I’d cut ties with you, then you’re more foolish than I thought you were.”

Kojirou still has hi arms wound around Kaoru’s back, and when he shrugs he presses Kaoru closer to himself. There is no anger and no regret in his eyes or his posture, as though nothing in the world would strip him of the bliss he’s currently being filled with. Kaoru finds himself drunk on the sight.

“I didn’t think that, no. I was just too scared of doing anything that will cause a shift in our relationship.”

The words sound strange, once Kaoru hears them spoken out loud. Kojirou is the one constant in his life that never changed, a shadow at his back and a light guiding him. They’ve both seen each other at their worst and their best, tending to bruises and squeezing a shoulder in comfort or riling each other up as part of their routine. Kojirou is an entity that exists at Karou’s side, full of familiarity and overflowing with kindness that doesn’t need to be voiced.

Kojirou is stupid for ever having hesitated or doubted the strength of their bond. But Kaoru is stupid, too, for simply taking what Kojirou was offering without ever giving back properly.

“We’re never having this conversation again,” Kaoru warns, tugging at Kojirou’s hair and pressing his forehead against his. “I trust you, Kojirou. I always have. This isn’t going to change.”

Kojirou is clinging to every one of his words, looking at Kaoru with the most enraptured expression he’s ever shown. Like this is a dream that cannot be real. Kaoru scowls.

“Don’t look so surprised, gorilla. That’s not a secret.”

“I’m not surprised, I’m simply enjoying that you’re saying it at all,” Kojirou laughs.

“You never say anything pleasant about me either.”

“You’re the one who barges into my restaurant and half the time demand dishes that aren’t even on the menu, and I still cook them! I’m being nice enough!”

“What else would you do in a restaurant, muscles for brain ape?”

“I don’t know, cook a dish I have the actual ingredients for?”

Kaoru’s lips are pulled upward despite everything, his heart as light as ever in Kojirou’s presence. The ease surrounding them remains the same, electric veil sealing them in their own brand of intimacy they wouldn’t trade for anything else.

It feels effortless, then, to switch to a less barbed attitude but still retaining playfulness. Kaoru brushes strands of hair out of Kojirou’s face, and Kojirou runs a thumb under Kaoru’s eye.

“It’s my birthday at the end of the week,” Kaoru whispers, locking eyes with Kojirou. “Take me somewhere nice.”

“Bossy as ever,” Kojirou sighs, though his voice sounds like contentment and bliss contained in a space called home.

Kaoru smiles.

[fadebolt]

Personal room ranking:

1 - Garbage Wastes: TOWER15 (9/10) 2 - Undergrowth: C02 (9/10) 3 - Metropolis: shelter_above (9/10) 4 - Sky Islands: B03 (8/10) 5 - Outer Expanse: TOWER06 (6/10) 6 - Outer Expanse: RUIN08 (6/10) 7 - Suburban Drifts: CAVE04 (5/10) 8 - The Rot: CONVERGENCE (4/10) 9 - Barren Conduits: A05 (4/10) 10 - Silent Construct: HALL (3/10)

Extra comment: Y'all have no idea how badly I'm resisting, so that I would stop myself form rambling about how B03 looks like a face too (but if you've seen my comment under the Windswept Spires day, you'll know exactly what I mean… human brains do be quite the curse sometimes xd).

As for the actual poll, it is certainly one of the more mixed ones from round 2, but I'm satisfied with the ones that are making it through. However, I believe I've already rambled about those, so let's address a couple of more mid-tier rooms, starting with:

HALL from Silent Construct. Listen, as much as I dig the vibes of the snowy abandoned crumbling citadel, was this really the room that needed to be filled with Spiders? The Downpour devs had a bit of annoying habit, where they would often put a bunch of hostile creatures into tight spaces for Saint, where you often won't have many options for counterplay. For most Slugcats, this is fine, because the creatures in these places are often fragile, so it doesn't matter that the game is giving you no options to juke and avoid, when you can simply kill. The original game manages a pretty good balance between avoid-befriend-fight options, where the player has to utilize all 3 of them at the appropriate moments to succeed. A big goal of Downpour was to change and subvert this formula in some way, for all the campaigns. And for the most part, it succeeded at it, except that there are parts of the game that clearly didn't account for the different playstyles… like this very room. (I went a bit more in-depth in this, but I hope it was still cohesive and understandable)

Then there's RUIN08, which is sort of similar, in theory, especially since Caramel Lizards are way tougher than Spiders. But the difference is that the Slugcats that can visit Outer Expanse do have the ability to defend themselves, but if you wanna take a less risky approach, you can still utilize a Yeek, or the small crawl spaces that lead downwards, to avoid the hungry reptiles. You actually have options, and you won't have to deal with unavoidable tranquilizing darts that will often spell slow and inevitable death.

Now, for the bonus rooms of today, we've got two.

The first is DEAD01 from The Rot, or as I'd like to call it - "the only room that forced me to use Dev Tools on a first playthrough, due to it getting me completely stuck". Sounds far fetched? Well, thankfully, I still have the old screenshot.

If any of you manage to actually get out of there without cheating (as in, no Rarefaction Cell, Dev Tools, other mods that could help, or extra stuff that you wouldn't normally have here like Yeeks or Squidcadas), then uhh… I dunno, you could request art, a voiceover, or an analysis on something you choose! I wish the best of luck for anyone looking to try this! (Unless it's actually impossible, in which case, sorry for wasting your time)

As for the actual room itself, it's alright. It is somewhat forgettable, since it comes right after E05, but that doesn't make it any less freakish. It is also not too difficult to get through, and the Proto-DLLs aren't placed in obnoxious spots, so this gets a solid 6/10 from me.

And lastly, there's B01_PAST from Garbage Wastes, which is mostly the same as the original B01, except that it's in a better state, and there's a few Squidcadas in there, too. And honestly, I kind of like this version more. The color scheme just feels better, and I'm honestly impressed by how different the room's vibes are, despite it receiving mostly minor changes. It's pretty much just a simple introduction room, but it does do its job well. A 7/10 would probably be fair, if maybe a little generous.

Pick Your Favorite Rain World Room, Day 209.2 R2

This is not single elimination! Every room with at least 15.0% vote will move on to the next round.

There is a hidden slugcat in one of the rooms (they can be in any color). If u can see it comment or reblog with where they are and if u are first, u get a cookie!

Credit for game screenshots goes to: Rain World Interactive Map, Rain World Wiki and me

Congratulations for day 208.2 winners!

[jackalgirl]

Stubbornness

Me, yesterday: Today, I am going to get all caught up with my correspondence.  And I’m going to experiment with the sewing machine so I can finish the Hellvet Bag.  And I might even fell down some of the hems of the linen tunic I actually sewed, with only a single drop of blood to appease the demon sewing machine, and which actually fits the Next Generation (the tunic, not the sewing machine).  But first, I will knit the one part of Nikki Van De Car’s “Maile Sweater” that is actually hellaciously difficult for me, so that it is out of the way.

Me:  There!  Done with the sweater part and ready to move on!  Why do I feel exhausted?

Me, looking at the clock, seeing that it is eight-thirty in the evening, and having accomplished absolutely nothing else: Time for bed!

TL;DR: there’s an error in the pattern plus I made some mistakes, and it took me all day to figure it out, because dammit I’m not going to let a pattern beat me like that.

I have placed the fix to the pattern, followed by the full story*, under the cut, if you like gory knitting stories.

* I’ve Suffered For My Art and Now You Will, Too...but only if you wanna.  Because I absolutely hate the “shaggy dog” style of recipe or crafting instruction, where you have to endure a story before you get to the actual instruction.  So I put the correction first.

First, the pattern: https://beacon.by/nikki-van-de-car/maile - it is free and adorable and is one of my two go-to patterns when I’m making jackets for friends’ freshly-sprouted or soon-to-be-sprouting sprogs. 

In the Yoke section, the first part should read:

K yoke to 8 sts before marker, ssk, pm, k6, remove m.  K7 from the 1st sleeve, pm, k2tog. K to 3 sts before end of sleeve, ssk, pm, k to end of sleeve.  K1 stitch from back, k2tog, k to 3 sts before marker, ssk, k1, remove m, k1 st from second sleeve, pm, k2tog, k to 9 sts before end of sleeve, ssk, pm, k to end of sleeve.  K6 sts from left front, pm, k2tog, k to end.

The bolded part is what’s different from Nikki’s original pattern. 

When you are done with this row, you should have 203 stitches on your needles, separated into seven (7) sections:

The middle section (”center back”): 59 stitches. 

The two sections on either side of this (”shoulders”): 36 stitches each. 

Continuing outwards, the next two sections (”lace sections”): 13 stitches each. 

Finally, the last two sections (”jacket fronts”): 23 stitches each.

The pattern’s error is that is has you place the fourth marker two stitches too early, and you end up with 57 stitches in the center back and 38 stitches in the second shoulder section.

Note: from this point onward, you will be decreasing by 8 stitches in every odd-numbered row.  You will repeat lace pattern #2 a total of three times, losing 120 total stitches overall.  This means when you finish the lace pattern’s row 9 for the third time, you’ll have 83 stitches on your needle (8, 13, 6, and 29 sts in the jacket front, lace, shoulder, and center back sections respectively).

The pattern tells you to stop when you have 83 stitches, but go ahead and knit a “wrong-side” button hole row, so that your jacket ends up with four (4) button holes.  Then continue on as per the pattern until you are done.

The pattern doesn’t tell you you have to seam up the sleeves on the undersides, but you do.  Take care to close up the hole in the armpit that is a consequence of inserting all those sleeve stitches between two adjacent jacket stitches.

Oh, look!  A shaggy dog!  (Abandon all hope, etc.)

The original pattern has you knit the sleeves in the flat (from the cuffs upward).  Then, after you’ve knitted up the bottom part of the jacket, this first part of the Yoke section has you knit the sleeves directly into the jacket: after having knitted up the bottom part of the jacket, you knit some stitches, then knit across the first sleeves’ stitches (with some decreases thrown in), then return to the jacket stitches (so you’ve just inserted all those sleeve stitches between two adjacent stitches of the jacket, which is tough), knit across the back, add the second sleeve in the same manner, then the rest of the jacket. 

You’re adding stitch markers along the way -- those sections are to allow you both to knit a section of lace on either side of the jacket’s front, but also to shape the jacket around the shoulders and neck.  So the sections -- and the markers -- are really really important. 

But the pattern does not have any indication of how many stitches should end up in each section.  Nor does it give you an overall stitch count when you are done with that row.  You finish the first part of the jacket with 119 stitches, and then you do this (IMO) technically difficult** step of knitting the sleeves directly into the jacket, with some decreases thrown in for good measure, and end up with...???

** I make it more difficult, of course, by not knitting the sleeves in the flat, so I am attaching tubes (much tension -- many strain) to the jacket instead of relatively flexible flat pieces.  More on that later, if you have not given up on me by then.

I feel like this is one of those patterns by a very accomplished and exceptionally skilled knitter, who is perhaps not taking into account that lesser knitters (like myself) are bound to make mistakes, and for me (ymmv), having stitch counts are really important for keeping track of whether or not I’ve made a mistake.  The lack of stitch counts isn’t a big deal, as long as you don’t make any mistakes.  And this also assumes that the pattern doesn’t contain any mistakes in the first place.

The two previous times I’ve knitted this jacket, not knowing about that error in the pattern and not having a stitch count to compare, I ended up with a not-symmetrical number of stitches in the shoulders of the jacket after attaching the sleeves.  I had chalked it up to a) making mistakes, as I do, and b) always getting excited to continue The Next Part and forgetting to double-check before I do so.  I in each of my previous two jackets, I ended up hiding a decrease in the second shoulder section and forging onward.

This time was no different and, naturally, I only noticed this until about five rows after, because I didn’t remember to double-check until then.  Also, I’d made some mistakes, because the shaping -- although absolutely lovely when it’s done -- is arranged in such a way as to form a pattern that is not sticky for the way my brain is wired to see patterns.  But this time, I remembered that this had happened the previous two times.  Though I was willing to admit that I’d made mistakes again, I began to suspect that there was a problem with the pattern itself.  And I was going to figure it out, by George!

I ended up breaking out the iPad and doing some drawing/counting illustrations in order to figure out what you’re supposed to have after that row of attaching the sleeves.  That’s what helped me recognize the error in the pattern, and why I was ending up with unequal shoulders (in addition to my mistakes).

Rather than frog all the way back to the sleeve attachment (I did not want to go through that again), I simply frogged that little bit of the jacket between the back and the incorrectly-numbered shoulder back to the row where I attached the sleeves, and (I used double-pointed needles for this) knitted the dropped stitches back up with everything shifted over so that the dividing line ended up where it needed to be.  I did the same thing to the other parts where I’d made mistakes (by forgetting to decrease where I was supposed to).   That finally got me to the correct stitch count for the row I was on, with the correct number of stitches in each section. 

This was much more difficult than I’m making it sound, and figuring it out took me all day (and made me cranky, for which I profusely apologized to the Better Half who, to give him credit, demonstrated the “Better” part of that moniker, for which I am very grateful).

Aunt Lorenza’s Modifications - or - Oh look! Another shaggy dog!  (if you’re still with me, blessings be upon you)

As mentioned, I didn’t knit the sleeves in the flat.  I knitted them using the magic loop method, on a circular needle, two-at-a-time.  I did cut the yarn (Nikki recommends you not do this) after they were done, but left a decently long tail (3-4 inches, or 7-10 cm) to take care of the underarm hole.

If you want to do the sleeves this way, you will need extra equipment: five (5) US x double-pointed knitting needles, and an additional set of US x circular needles with a decently long cable (the longer, the better, but no fewer than 24″/61 cm).

Note: I say “x” because what size needle you use depends on your yarn and what size you’re shooting for.  I used fingering-weight yarn and US 4 (3.5mm) needles, but you might end up using something else.  Just make sure they’re all the same size.

First, knit the sleeves, using the magic loop method for circular knitting.  I modified the pattern by casting on using the Chinese Waitress cast-on for the sleeves, so that the cuff would be extra stretchy.

When you are done: transfer the first sleeve to DPNs as so:

from the start of the sleeve’s round, 11 sts on the first needle, 12 sts each on the second and third needles, 11 sts on the fourth needle. 

Note: This is going to help split up the strain on the tube as you’re knitting it into the jacket.  It’ll be easier on your hands, your needles, and also the fabric.

Leave the second sleeve on your original needles and set aside.

Take up your second set of cable needles and knit the jacket.  I used the crochet cast-on so that I would have a braided edge, taking the extra step of deliberately twisting the stitches so that it would be a twisted braid.  I also added a stitch to either side (I cast on 133 sts vice 133) and slipped the first stitch of each row purlwise, knitting it on the return, so that the edges would also have a twisted braid.

In the Yoke section, when you get to the first sleeve (on its DPNs), use the fifth DPN to knit the sleeves’ stitches off of the first DPN, when then becomes your right-hand needle.  Continue in this manner, knitting around the sleeve stitches, as per the pattern.

When you reach the end of the sleeve, pick up the next jacket stitch with your original (circular) needle.  This part takes patience, because all these needles want to be in the way of each other and the yarn, and of course the DPNs want to slide out of the loops.  So go slow for this part.

Follow the pattern until you have gotten 10 or so stitches across the back -- or until it feels relatively secure to you.

You’re now going to need to get the sleeve stitches onto your cable needle (pulling up a loop in the middle of the sleeve so that it lays flat) and free up the DPNs for the next sleeve.  As soon as you get two DPNs free, stop and get the second sleeve off of the other end of the holding cable (half of the sts on one needle, half on the other).  When all of the DPNs are free, set up the second sleeve as you did the first.

Continue with the yoke, adding the second sleeve as the pattern directs.  Leave these DPNs in the second sleeve stitches after you have finished attaching the sleeve so that they can take up the strain.

When you are done with this row and the sleeves are on, knit your wrong-side return -- the DPNs will help you manage the strain on the fabric when you reach the sleeves.  Eventually, as you keep adding rows, you’ll get far enough past the sleeves that you’ll be able to remove the DPNs and the extra cable needle.  And then you can just knit as the pattern is written and you should be fine.

Enjoy!

[kiingocreative]

The Structure of Story is now available! Check it out on Amazon, via the link in our bio, or at https://kiingo.co/book

.

.

.

There’s a lot of talk amongst the indie writers community about how to deal with bad reviews. I myself have had a lot of conversations on the topic to see how others handle the negative reviews they receive.

I’ve been given a lot of good advice, from looking at it from a critical standpoint, and something you can learn from, to making memes out the worst reviews you get, to completely ignoring them and never looking at them.

My History of Bad Reviews

I still remember the first couple of bad reviews I got for No Pain, No Game.The first one was from someone who couldn’t take the graphic scenes of torture and violence in the book. Though one side of my brain obsessed about how much of a failure this made and my book (…yep, I totally went there), the other part was able to rationalise the feedback. If it wasn’t for them, it was fair enough.

The second bad review I got though was brutal. The reader hated the book and everything in it and wrote a very strongly worded (and somewhat entertaining) review about it. This was a gut-punch, though thankfully by the time it happened I’d gained enough confidence in myself and in my work not to let it bring me down (or at least, not too much).

In a time where everyone’s used to hiding behind a screen, people forget that there’s an actual breathing person on the other end, with feelings as acute as their own.

And because I know how painful it is to receive a bad review, especially when you’re starting out and your confidence in your art may be fragile, I don’t leave bad reviews on others’ books. I wouldn’t lie and leave a positive reviewif I didn’t like it, I just wouldn’t leave a review at all.

I realise we focus a lot on what it’s like to be on the receiving end of bad reviews — what about the other side, I wonder? Do writers who know how crushing a bad review can feel leave negative reviews on fellow writers’ work?

It takes one to know one

In another highly unofficial poll in my Instagram stories recently (I’m loving those!) I asked people whether they leave negative reviews on books, and 62% said they don’t.

Speaking to other authors, I had a feeling that, like me, they may be able to put themselves in other writers’ shoes and be reluctant to leave negative reviews.

Jen Furlong, author of Hidden City, for instance, doesn’t leave negative reviews. ‘Authors, especially new ones need support and encouragement,’ she says. ‘I focus on what I did like about the book and how I see the author growing in future books’. If there was something she didn’t like about a book, she continues, ‘then that’s on me. Someone else probably loved it! Who am I to poo on a fellow writer’s hard work?’

For author of The Path to Resilience Severine Desrosiers, ‘feedback is paramount’ so she does give negative reviews. However, whether or not the title is an indie book or not still influences what she does: ‘ifit’s someone like myself,an indie author who is trying to get known then I wouldprobably not leavea public review. But if it’s someone like Stephen King’s latest book for example then yes because I don’t think that that will affect him as much’.

And this seems to be a recurring view — that it’s not only about leaving a negative review or not, but that there may be a distinction leaving negative reviews on indie books or books written by debut authors, versus those written by more established authors.

When asking people about this in my Instagram stories, someone said that, rather than leave a bad review, they ‘tend to leave no review when it is an indie book with less than 500 reviews’.

I thought that would be a widely spread opinion but, in my unofficial poll, I asked people just that: when deciding to leave a review or not, does it matter whether or not the book is an indie book? And 75% of respondents said it doesn’t.

The Holy Grail of Constructive Criticism

That left me a little confused, and it definitely got me thinking. When checking whether people tend to leave no review at all rather than leave a negative review, the results were inconclusive — 53% said they do, 47% said they don’t… How’s that for a divided jury!

So, most people don’t tend to leave bad reviews, and for 75% of people that decision isn’t impacted by whether or not the book’s an indie book. And there’s no clear trend on leaving a negative review versus leaving no review at all.

Digging into the matter more, however, it looks like there’s more to it than meets the eye. Because most people don’t tend to look at it as a ‘negative review’ or a ‘bad review’. What everyone’s unanimously aiming for is:

constructive criticism.

‘Bad is a relative term,’ a poll respondent said, ‘I’ve never intentionally bashed something’, it’s all ‘constructive criticism’. ‘If worded correctly’, someone else concurred, ‘I think the author can and should use it as constructive criticism and learn’.

And many authors see it that way, too. Lane Northcutt, author of The Delivery Company, says he reads all reviews, good and bad because writers have to listen to their readers. Reviews should be used as fuel for future improvement, he says: ‘I think to myself “how can I see my book through this lens?” or “is this a trend?” and go from there. […] If is a theme within many reviews, then it’s worth taking your time to see what’s going on and how to fix it’.

Alexander Michael, author of Transformations, looks at it in a similar way: ‘Writers, including myself, need to grow. But no review I write will be rude or unhelpful’.

As I was researching this, I came across a great conversation on this very topic in the comments of a post by writer Anna Sheremeteva— here’s some of what people said:

‘I don’t think I’ve ever written a bad review. The lowest rating I’ve done is 3 stars, but I was still able to point out things I liked about the book. I’d say be bold yet polite in your opinion, yet still try to find positives.’

Or again:

‘Give constructive critique and be encouraging at the same time. If it is downright terrible then I’d just not write anything. Better that than trash someone in full view of the IG community. Or maybe DM the person, but again, don’t be harsh.’

I’m sensing a trend… Could it be then that it’s not that people don’t leave ‘bad’ reviews, but that they leave ‘constructive criticism’ reviews instead?

The Right to Conflicting Opinions

In the comments on that Anna Sheremeteva's post I came across this beautifully phrased piece of feedback by a fellow author:

‘I always tell people when I hand them something I’ve written: ‘if my work sucks shit, I wanna know’. Far better to be honest and kind than to be dishonest and coddling.’

There is truth in that, for sure, which is probably why so many people seem to favour giving feedback through a review, constructively, rather than not at all or lying by leaving a falsely positive review.

I hear that, and to an extent I agree. But is all constructive criticism valid criticism? We’re told to write the books we want to write, one that will not necessarily appeal to everyone…

So by definition, some readers won’t like certain books because they simply aren’t right for them — constructive or not, is there value in such reviews, and what is to be made of them? How can we be objective in reviewing a book that simply wasn’t for us?

Reading through the conversation on that Instagram post, I see that angle crop up:

‘I feel it’s ok to have an overall negative opinion,’ someone commented. ‘I would likely find a polite way to express what I liked and didn’t like. But, one thing I’ve seen that I don’t think is very nice to do is when people rate a book based off of what they would do to change the story, not rating the story itself’.

And someone else argued: ‘Today, any topic could be controversial. I may not agree with the authors view on a particular topic, but that doesn’t mean they have no right to express it. I would say, ‘for those who like…’ this is a good read. […] There’s nothing wrong with saying: I don’t necessarily agree with the author’s views, but…’.

And I see their point. There are bound to be books we love and books we don’t. As writers, we have to accept that our work won’t float everyone’s boat. And it seems that everyone’s aligned with the idea that people are allowed their own opinions, whether or not anyone else agrees with them — as long as it’s phrased in a polite and constructive manner. As someone else commented on the post: ‘For sure write a review. Positive or negative, it’s always opinion!’

It���s All Subjective

And that’s the key word, I think. At the end of the day, reviews are just that: opinions.

They’re one person — with their upbringing, values, culture, views of the world — commenting one another person’s work — who will have their own upbringing, values, culture, views of the world. I love the way Jen Furlong puts it: ‘as a writer I find that reader reviews are a lot more about the reader than the book!’

I know from experience that receiving reviews comes with a lot of ups and downs. There’s joy to be found in the ups, and acceptance in the lows. In the words of Alexander Michael:

‘If I receive a bad review, all I need to do is realise that stories and writing are subjective. Someone is going to dislike it. BUT someone else is going to love it. Hang in there and find your clan. Good reviews, on the other hand, are a joy. It's nice to know that something that came from your mind, like a living dream, can be walked in by someone else, and hence enjoyed’.

How wonderfully put!

Bad Reviews… as a Favour?

Here’s one final thought for you, and one I hadn’t really considered until I came across these two comments on Instagram:

‘Express why YOU didn’t like it. This helps people with similar likes and disliked so they know they probably won’t like the book. So they don’t read it. So that’s one less future bad review.’

and:

‘As long as you’re coming from a place of thoughtfulness, then honesty is the way to go! Some people write poorly or write books that aren’t great. If it’s bad, you’ll be helping people not waste money. That’s a good thing.’

How about that?

Yes, constructive criticism can be helpful for authors if they decide to take it onboard. But I’d never really thought about negative reviews as preventing people unknowingly spending their money on a book they wouldn’t like (and therefore writing a bad review afterwards because they’re annoyed they spent their money on a book their didn’t like). And so by helping readers figure out whether a not a book’s for them, you’re helping the author by preventing people posting more negative reviews.

I absolutely love that. I think about the reviews I’ve written and the reviews I’ve received, and I realise — rather shamefully — that neither of these things had really crossed my mind. I thought of writing a positive review as supporting a fellow author, but I’d never considered the upsides of negative reviews like that…

It’s food for thought for me, and something I’m definitely looking to take onboard!

[f33itan]

5, 16, 22, 28, 58, 59 lmaooo is it too many? :3

Oh no, it isn’t many at all!! Glad you requested pastel :] If anything I’m just warning you that this might be long

5: is there anyone who can always make you smile?

Unless I’m in a super SUPER utterly terrible mood, it would be my Mother. Yes I love my Dad to bits as well, but my mom and I have that extra special mother-daughter connection yk? Usually when I’m upset or weary about something my mom can take one good look at me and read me like a book.

Nat: Literally doing NOTHING

Mum: Nati.

Nat: Yes?

Mum: What’s wrong?

Nat: Nothing, why?

-Silence and avoiding eye contact-

Nat: Okay so maybe there might be a teeny tiinnyy thing-

16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t?                  

I can’t even TELL YOU HOW MANY TIMES THIS HAS HAPPENED OMG BAHAHAH but for now I’ll just give a recent time. Okay so me, my cousin and a daughter of one of my dad’s friends (she’s my age dw we good) were in my room chilling on this massive beanbag going from ranting about daddy levi to getting in our feels, and it got to the point that around 3 am my cousin left to the living room to play beat saber ad I was left with the girl. Not too long before this i was in my feels about how ive been rejected on valentine’s day, called ugly by my crush (which hurted, do not attempt) and called clingy for comforting a friend etc and me and the girl plopped on the bean bag in a position that, uh, how do i say this... hmm. . . ILL JUST DRAW AND ADD A PHOTO SO IT MAKES SENSE LMAO

((PLEASE WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS I DREW IT ON MY LAPTOP WITH MY FINGERS AND CLICK PAD THINGY IM SO SORRY IT SUCKS, AND SHES PAN SAME AS ME SO I WAS IN PANICC at the disco also different fonts so you can tell all of the different thoughts apart))

But anyways yeah we were in that position, and my thoughts were...

-Pan panic- -holy shit im in contact with a person like this thats not my family- -should i turn to cuddle her? no she might think its weird- -wtf nat you literally just met her earlier today- -i know but shes super nice and we relate on a lot of thingsss- -NO- -What would feitan say to this?- -Know your limits brain.-

22. description of crush. 

R we talking 2D or 3D because uh... lets just do both!

3D: literally every alt, goth, emo peep on tiktok, they all look so pretty and for what??

2D: A man way older than me.. Hair up to about his lower neck.. On the short side.. Beautiful shiny purple eyes... Hair that I thought was black but when sampling the color from official art from hxh creators and shit found out its a really dark green.. Murderous, Sadist, and most likely Masochist tendencies.. Hot well toned body.. Chinese.. *Insert Ayesha Erotica’s Emo Boy song*

28. i’ll love you if…

you buy me dark chocolate

If you are able to deal with my constant switch of “I wanna be clingy, cuddly, affectionate and sweet” to “Lets scream lyrics to a song, eat random food and not come in contact with each other unless its play fighting” and a bonus, “Leave me the fuck alone and let me play my video games by myself”

If you tolerate my attitude, and the fact that all I can really cook without getting scared for the most part is scrambles eggs, toast and bagels, re heating a meal (does that even count), and brownies.

Accepting me for who I am, and not just the silly playful cover I share with most people, you can be a shoulder to cry on for me as in almost all situations I’m the shoulder for others, being able to comfort each other and talk about weird and embarrassing things we’ve done in the passed and not get a nasty looked or shamed for it, keeping me from buying really pointless things, dealing with the fact that Im a massive chicken when it comes to roller coasters, yet put me on literally ANY OTHER DANGEROUS THING and I’ll be as happy as a child in a candy store. Swimming with sharks? Fuck yeah! Ziplining over alligators? YES! (Ive done that actually when I was 7 or 8) Go swimming through dark and light ruins of underground passage ways in Cancun? YESSIR!! (Which Ive done as well) Roller coasters? Get the hell away from me.

And simply deal with me, myself. and I

58. description of my best friend

I have multiple so I picked one teehee

Tall, skinny as a stick, for whatever reason can carry me with simply two arms extended out, light brown hair that she always wears in a ponytail (but wore it down for me on my birthday), started out introverted but with me hugging her at school everyday became a big time ambivert, usually the one who keeps me from 1. lashing out at classmates and 2. getting into trouble most of the time, can joke around a lot but speaks rather quietly so sometimes she has to repeat herself for my deaf ass lmao, if there’s inclement weather at school, during our break in class either she or I make a bee line for each other’s desk and start cackling immediately afterwards, random times in class one of us will throw a cringy smirk at the other and it becomes this stupid war of who get the last smirk in, whenever were walking around campus one of us will be holding onto the other’s sleeve loosely, (most of the time its me, but she’s done it too), We have had this thing for years now that when she has her hands on her hips I tried to stick my head through that opening, and for years on end I couldn’t do it, and when I did it was the best day ever

59. why i joined tumblr

Simple reason really, Feitan. Whenever I looked up “feitan fluff” before I went to bed to end the day nicely, it would always bring me to some tumblr page, so I decided to make an account and, well, here we are. ⛹️‍♀️

[mihidecet]

Sbi&CO d&d AU: A Familiar Face (1/?)

WELCOME WELCOME EVERYONE! Today, the tournament arc begins! I do hope you’ll enjoy this ahahah

I dedicate this to all the wonderful people of the Au’s Discord - hit me up if you wanna join! Also, a special thank you to @traitorous-bisexual and @awebo without whom this arc wouldn’t exist <3

Finally, before we start: make sure you check out @whatimevendoinhere , @spout1nk and (soon) @julius-ranch for art and fanfics about the AU!!

It was a lovely morning. 

The sun shined through the tinted windows, turning the light a soft orange glow that lessened the glare of it against his eyes. 

It was a welcome respite: during the months that involved preparing the tournament, days were quick to melt together, nights becoming just darker afternoons as Scott and everyone around him hurried to make everything look ready for the contestants' arrival. So, not having the sun shine directly into his eyes as he looked over the final challenges that had been chosen for the tournament was a relief. The cup of warm tea by his desk was also a saving grace.

Stifling a yawn, Scott figured that he could let himself take a stroll. Maybe open up his window, let the room freshen up a bit. 

With his window overlooking one of the many parks inside the Academy, maybe he could distract himself for a moment and see if his protege had finally started warming up to his teammates. 

That plan had flown out of the window almost immediately. Or maybe it would be better to say that it had flown into the window, along with a green tipped arrow that had suddenly appeared in his field of vision. 

Now, Scott hasn't been adventuring for a while, but it would be foolish to think that he's forgotten how the world works - with a flick of his wrist, a translucent dome of purple arcane energy materializes between him and the incoming arrow, which impacts with the barrier a split second later. The tip goes through, piercing the veil of his magic, and for a terrifying moment Scott thinks it's not gonna stop, but it simply stops, held in place as if caught in a web. 

Which is a relief, the amateur that tried to attack him - an Archmage, in the middle of his own Academy - failed to get their first shot in and this will give him the time to step back and call his most trusted in order to quickly and efficiently get rid of the problem at hand. He has other more pressing matters to attend to, he's not going to waste his time on this. 

As his Shield spell fades, it congeals like a shimmering second skin over his upper arm. Maybe calling the guards isn't that pressing, he's got this. 

Or maybe he doesn't, he thinks as he get a second, much more terrifying surprise - in the span of a couple of seconds, he really can get no breaks.

A figure materializes in the air in front of him, with a dark hood over their head that covers most of their features except for a huge - terrifying - grin and an intricate bow strapped to their back.

The figure appears with a puff of iridescent smoke, crouched in the air as if they'd been in the process of jumping before they decided to teleport, and- crashes into him, the force of the impact and the shock of it happening making him lose his balance and start falling back. 

There's a moment where Scott is confused: is this some sort of strange tactic? Did the stranger misjudge their trajectory? Are they going to wrestle on the ground as if they weren't both magic users? 

Then, a brief split second of panic - he didn't look what the stranger was holding, and he is currently falling on his back. He is going to get stabbed, at the very least, and that conviction is only made stronger as he feels the stranger's arms close in around him. 

But then, Scott has simply enough time to blink in shock, as the arms just wrap around his back, before his world is literally turned upside down.

One moment he is falling on his back, already anticipating the pain of a knife to the back - please no vital organs, spare him the need for an extremely expansive healer. The next the is wrapped in a hug and grunting in pain as his knees impact with the ground. 

"Ah, fuck that hurt- Scotty are you alright?" 

Scott refuses to believe this. He pushes against the chest under him - the arms give, letting him go - and finds himself face to face with a sight that is both very familiar and weirdly unusual. 

"You-" Scott says, tone an unconvincingly mix of menacing and angry as he jabs a finger into the not-so-stranger's chest -"Are lucky to be alive. I could have murdered you."

Hbomb's worried glance instantly brightens, despite Scott's best hopes, and he throws his head back to laugh. No matter how irritated he is at his friend, he can't help but huff out a laugh himself, and a moment later they're both chuckling together on the floor. By all the gods, it has been some time.

"You are a dumbass, H. You couldn't just use the door? You know, like a normal person?!" Scott asks, holding himself up on his left elbow because H has always been one to laugh with his whole body and Scott is still recovering from jamming his knees into the floor, he's not in the mood to be jostled around by an enthusiastic ranger. 

"Aw, Scotty, aren't you happy to see me?" The half-elf asks, putting a hand on his chest as he fails to pretend he's insulted. Scott flicks his nose. 

"Ah- that hurt!"

"I know, I meant it to hurt. Now, do you want to tell me what you're doing here? And what is that doing on your face?" Scott demands, serious at first until he realises that H has been growing out his beard well past what he considers to be a good length - H's pout is barely visible under all that scruff.

"Well, now, that is unnecessarily rude. I've been traveling for a while now, and I wasn't gonna risk injuring myself-" Scott grabs a wandering hand and brings it back on H's chest. 

"H." Hbomb has a tendency of gesticulating when his hands aren't being kept busy, and while he did figure that his friend had simply forgotten to shave, he has known him long enough to be able to recognise when H is going off on a tangent - which is perfectly fine - and when he's changing the subject because he doesn't want to answer. 

He knows he's right when H simply shuts up, eyes wide like those of a deer - quite fitting, considering where he enjoys spending most of his time. But instead of looking pensive, or starting to answer, H just … looks down. At where their hands are. 

Normally, he wouldn't think much of it. But H looks almost sheepish, and his eyes keep moving from his face to their hands, so Scott looks down. 

His brain screeches to a halt, and suddenly he stands up a little straighter, sitting on the floor next to H as he grabs his hand in his. 

Around his fingers wraps a perfect replica of a silver winged fae dragon, while in his palm- one of the most accurate representations of the different Planes. 

Scott turns his stare to his fiend, who looks more calm than Scott feels he has any right to, and when he speaks he sounds almost breathless. 

"What happened to you?"

The tale of how Shubble's patron reached out to him to grant him powers is exhilarating. Not in the "funny" sense, more in the "my friend who is usually not that fond of talking and interacting with people especially when he's not in a place he is familiar with, was transported to a different plane and spoke with a being of transcendent power". So maybe a bit in the "funny" sense. 

The only negative side of the whole affair is the fact that Shubble is currently not present. 

She actually teaches at the Academy, so H was right in his assumption that reaching this place would have helped him out, but he just barely missed her by a couple of weeks. She's recently left, called out on an urgent mission by her patron themselves, and a part of Scott's mind can't help but feel like it is an extremely weird coincidence: he respects power gained through pacts, but he fears deeply the machinations of otherworldly beings' minds and the power they hold over his friends. He'd much prefer dealing with forces controlled by his own self, so that when a spell backfires comically he only has himself to blame. 

But all things considered, he's glad to see H is still alive and seemingly doing better than ever. He looks fine, happy and more confident than the last time he saw him - the way he stands and moves more firm, more secure, filling his space in a way the Hbomb of some time ago wouldn't have. 

It's nice to see him like this. 

What isn't nice is the way his increased confidence leads him to suggest how good of an idea it would be for him to take part into the tournament. Which is a horrible idea. 

"Listen, I know I am banned from playing again-" H starts, arms spread open with a mischievous grin on his face. Scott has sudden flashbacks to all the times he'd seen that grin from the other side of the battlefield and shakes his head firmly before pointing a stern finger at his chest.

"You still have a year before you can." 

H huffs, shoulders falling, and he adopts the most fake-innocent expression Scott has ever seen. 

"But I'm just here to say hi!" Scott levels him with a blank stare, using all of his willpower and internal strength to avoid bursting out laughing. Because for all that his friend's expression is hilarious, this is really no laughing matter. He can't have him win again. 

"I said what I said." H's head hits the desk with a groan of protest. 

On the other side of the table, Scott pinches his own arm in order not to laugh. 

He fails.

H still manages to pout his way into getting a free room to stay in for a while - just like the old times, come on! - and seems to be alright with being left to his own devices for the rest of the morning. 

Knowing him, he'll take it as the perfect chance to snoop around, make new friends and bother the tournament's contestants. 

As Scott turns back to his schematics, the only thing he does is chuckle to himself. 

[themidnightfarmer]

Good weekend boss? || Metzli & Jared

Location: The gallery

Tagging: @deathisanartmetzli​

Description: Getting to know who you work with. 😊

Triggers: none i think?

Jared was bustling as fast as he could into work. Carrying a cup of coffee and a bag of some things he could leave in the lunch room for people who’d missed breakfast. Though admittedly no one had taken him up on his offerings yet. Why no one wanted his mushroom and mayo bagels or spam and pickle wraps he would never know, maybe today would be the day. When he had some spare cash he’d buy something instead of making it himself. But that was a problem for another time. It took him around ten minutes into his shift before he found himself in the back looking for a piece and found his boss amongst the art. 

“Morning.” he greeted cheerfully a smile adorning his face for all of two seconds before it fell. “Good weekend boss?” The nymph inquired with uncertainty. 

Without breaking concentration on the work they were focused on, Metzli gave Jared a single wave before greeting verbally. “Morning, Mr. Gordon. Yes, I had a rager of a weekend. Multiple BDSM orgies.” A playful lie in hopes that they wouldn’t get any more questions. The weight on their chest was heavy enough from the anxiety of being in the building that Eloy knew about. Several times the night prior, they nearly called all of their employees to lay them off, close the gallery and stay inside. But that would be giving in. 

“And what the hell did you bring into this building? Your food smells awful and I could smell it from here.” Metzli finally looked up and let their eyes meet with Jared’s. The bruising had faded significantly, but it wasn’t enough to go unnoticed. “Are you looking for a specific piece or are you in need of help? I can give you more in depth training after your lunch break.”

The response was certainly not what he’d been expecting whatsoever. Enough to make this grown man blush. He opened and closed his mouth a few times letting out a soft sort of embarrassed laugh. “Really? Huh, wow okay cool. Pretty good weekend then I guess…” He trailed off. Although his eyes lingered on the marks and wondered if it was usual to be so injured...and deciding quickly that it wasn’t his business and he was DEFINITELY not going to be asking.

Jared bumbled over with his clipboard of paperwork and smiled. “I brought breakfast just in case anyone skipped it. Strong smell, great taste. It’s the good stuff!” He insisted. “Did you miss breakfast? I’ve been trying to coax some of the others, but maybe they’re too shy just yet because I’m so new…” His brain became alight with worry however as their eyes met. Completely missing the offer of more training or help with his current task he broke his own rules by asking further. “Are you uh...sure it was a fun weekend? I don’t want to like….pry too much but… you’re not looking so good…”

“The greatest.” Metzli droned, and went back to using their magnifying glass on the painting. They had just been sold a genuine Liu Wei, based on their current analysis. But their task didn’t last very long since Jared decided the conversation was still going. A fuse that was normally so long and rarely met its end, was much shorter now. Choking back a growl, they locked onto the food topic and stuck with it for as long as they could. “I don’t eat human food, Mr. Gordon. I can’t even taste it. And based on the smell of the combinations, I’m sure others would love to be blessed with—” The end of the sentence never came, they were too caught up with the genuine concern in not only Jared’s face, but his tone as well. 

Squeezing the magnifying glass, they placed it down next to the painting and circled around the table. Metzli looked like they were about to yell, go off on Jared, but they didn’t. Face softened and they sighed. There wasn’t enough energy to be angry or irritated. The vampire was simply just too tired. “No, it was not a good weekend. It was not a good week. But I’m alive. That’s all I could really hope for.”

His breakfast offering was far from his mind as Metzli rounded the table. Jared stayed where he stood, but raised the clipboard between them defensively as if that were to stop the other from throwing a punch for being so nosey. Belatedly recognising a punch was unlikely but a thorough dressing down was much more likely to be on the cards. 

“Alive is good.” The nymph commented dumbly. He stood unsure what to do for only a second before lowering the clipboard and reaching out tentatively to pat the vampire on the shoulder very gently. “Is there something I can do? I know it’s likely not something you wanna talk about or anything like that. But if something is ongoing I can maybe help. Or if it’s over and you just want to get it outta your system I can set something up.” Giving Jared this job was an incredible favour in the nymphs eyes and he’d try to return that as best as he could.

The sudden touch made Metzli lash out, grabbing Jared’s arm brashly and pulling it off. The hold threatened to be harmful, but their contracted pupils dilated, marking their mind’s return. “S-sorry. Please, don’t touch me.” Touch wasn’t something they let happen easily. Not the kind that was gentle or tender. There was too much room for deception, too much vulnerability. There were one too many times where their mother tricked them into a hug just so she could get them to come out for a punishment. Eloy did the same. “Not sure anyone can help. But that’s okay.” Posture sank and shoulders dropped despairingly. They couldn’t even help themselves, so how could anyone else do it?

“Why would you want to help anyway? We’ve met each other once.”

Jared flinched at the sudden and rather rough removal of his hand from their shoulder. Shaking his head and withdrawing a few steps to give Metzli more space around themselves. “Ah no it’s fine, sorry I forget not everyone needs the same sorts of things when things are tough.” He clutches the clipboard firmly with both hands in order to show that he won’t be reaching out again. Shooting an apologetic smile their way. “Well not sure isn’t the same as ‘can’t’ right? There’s always a chance?” Moving around the table to the other side he pushes the chair out from underneath on the other side and nods at it for his boss to take. Placing himself firmly on the other side of the table a nice safe distance from accidentally touching them again.

“Why shouldn’t I offer help if I can give it? You gave me a job. You carried me outta the way of the cops back on the street. Would be pretty shitty of me not to care at least a little about you.”

Metzli took the seat warily. It still made no sense that he wanted to help, and they were growing suspicious. Even given what they had done for him, they saw those things as favors for themself. “I did those things for me. Who’s to say you wouldn’t have ratted me out if I hadn’t moved you? And I needed a new-hire immediately. I know a lot about being an asshole considering I don’t even have a soul. Most of the shit I do is self-serving.” They shrugged and leaned back into their seat, crossing their arms. 

“You’re not bound to do anything, are you? Pretty sure the only thing you actually owe me is a meal.” Tone was doubtful and had no ounce of trust, especially for someone they did not know. “If you really wanna know, my master—my sire is after me. So I’ve been a little on edge.” They admitted a little crestfallen.

“Just because it benefitted you doesn’t mean it didn’t also really help me out?” Jared said with a dumbfounded expression. “I mean sure maybe your intention wasn’t to do good by me, but it ended up really helping me out...I uh….don’t really know what to do with the knowledge that you don’t have a soul though I mean...what does that even really mean?” The whole thought of not having a soul was lost on him completely. Weren’t they sort of fundamental? But then again if Metzli didn’t have one then he wasn’t sure what that even meant anymore, they seemed to be doing alright to him after all.

“No, not bound to anything more than another meal.” Unfortunately for the both of them, Metzlis explanation didn’t actually clear very much up for the nymph. “Your boss messed you up like that? That’s… damn that’s-...” He didn’t have words to convey what his expression likely would. A healthy mixture of confusion and a hint of disgust. 

An empty chuckle rang out and Metzli ran a hand through their hair. There was just so much going on. “You don’t have to do anything with that information. It just means I’m more of an asshole than most.” Their eyes rolled and frustration began to brew. Not at Jared, but at everything in general. Nothing was ever simple, but dammit why couldn’t it be at least simpler?

“Not my ‘boss’ but his little minions. I used to be one of them and he’s pretty angry that I’m not anymore. He doesn’t like to lose.” Metzli scoffed at their loose lips and bit the inside of their cheek to stop from revealing any more information. “Don’t know how you could help, but that’s fine. I’ll figure it out. Like I said, at least I’m alive.”

“Well...I guess some people are assholes even with a soul so it’s a good...excuse?” It was a valiant attempt to put a positive spin on things but he knew that was likely not something Metzli wanted. It was all he could think to do. Jared quickly shook his head and waved a hand for the vampire to ignore that comment, something he’d learnt early on in life...he’d been known by folk in town to say dumb things.

“So he’s a vampire like you then?” He nodded his head as he slowly connected the dots. Sire must be a vampire thing, he concluded. “So he’s trying to get you back.” Jared fiddled with the papers on his clipboard for a moment. “Well I mean, if you really don’t want me to try to help that’s okay. But I do mean it when I say I want to. Even if it’s just patching up after something like-” he gestured to his own face in places where the bruising was still apparent on their skin “- all that happens.” He didn’t quite know the extent of what was going on, but the grim expression was definitely giving him a hint. “Glad you’re alive boss.” he tacked on the end with the hint of a hopeful smile.

Metzli struggled to understand why Jared would be so concerned and willing to help. It was so easy to forget how kind people could actually be without needing anything in return. They envied that about people with souls. They were a monster, a selfish one. And it made them yearn for their soul a little more. Being soulless wasn’t an excuse. Bex had taught them that. But they were too tired to even attempt to explain. 

“Yeah, vampire like me. Only way more powerful and has actual control over me. But it’s whatever. You don’t have to be concerned about it.” Metzli rose from their seat and made their way back to the painting so they could get back to work. “Of course you’re glad, Mr. Gordon. I write your paychecks.” There was a small smirk playing at their lips, and then it curved fully. “Which reminds me, here.” Pulling a check from their pocket, they handed it over to Jared. “Everyone else is on direct deposit, but here’s your pay from last week.” The check was for a thousand dollars. “Not all of them will be like that. But you held down the fort while I was gone on your first week, so consider it a bonus.”

The nymph opened his mouth to reiterate the sentiment that they would be concerned whether they were directly involved or not but decided against arguing any further. His new boss didn’t want the attention so he’d keep it to himself. Unfortunate for the both of them that Jared had a hard time not worrying over people he knew. Especially those who found themselves in dangerous situations on the regular… Which was a description that matched far too many people Jared knew.

He mumbled quietly about how he’d been friends with all his bosses in the past before he’d worked for himself, to be cut off when handed the check. He blinked rapidly at the amount and looked up at Metzli completely astounded. Mouth opening and closing like a crazy golf obstacle Jared was speechless for a moment. “Surely that’s too much! It’s not like I did anything crazy.”

“Just take it and don’t throw a fuss. I’ll bite you if you do.” Metzli smiled at Jared and winked. They could tell he’d be a good addition to the staff, and maybe he’d be a good friend too. Making friends didn’t come very easily, though. Having friends was dangerous. The more people you had around you, the more ways you could be hurt, the more you had to lose. Part of them didn’t really care and they could see themselves not caring if Jared was killed. Soul or no soul, though, they knew that way of thinking was inherently wrong. That way of thinking was way too similar to the man they detested so much. There was no way they were going to let themselves actively be the monster Eloy molded them to be. It wouldn’t undo everything they had done up to date, and it probably wouldn’t change that they were a monster, but they could at least try. Bex told them if they could at least try, it was enough.

“Now, Mr. Gordon, care to update me on our most recent purchases and submissions? Or do you just want to carry that clipboard for no reason all day?” Metzli raised a brow as they teased him. Personality returned to the surface, and for a bit they didn’t have to be scared of their gallery, that someone could be watching them and relaying every bit of information to Eloy. That didn’t matter, not now. Not when they had worked incredibly hard to make a name for themselves.

Jared scrunched up his nose in response, only barely avoiding sticking his tongue out at his boss for the biting comment. But a quick laugh did follow as he stood up from his own seat, it seemed the brief discussion of what had been going on this last week for Metzli was finished with and it was to be back to work. Although this did mark a moment the nymph would be likely citing further down the road as perhaps the true beginning of a friendship. Sharing things like Metzli had was laying a sort of trust in Jared that he hoped he could keep.

“The clipboard is all for show.” He quipped in return before rounding the table to push the paperwork towards the other. “Or well, I was looking for this piece to mark down the code-” The nymph rambled away, happy enough to immerse himself back into work. Easily distracted.

[artificialqueens]

Girl I Met On The Internet, 5/6 (Crystal x Gigi) - Strawberry

a/n these chapters aren’t really that long but i keep taking forever to get them written and edited lol but anyway i hope ya’ll enjoy!! 

Gigi stayed at Crystal’s house for a while after their kiss. Crystal showed Gigi all of the art that was not yet hanging up on her walls, gave her a house tour, and introduced her to her cat Tic Tac, who Gigi instantly fell in love with. 

Gigi finally had to go when Crystal said her mom was on her way home from work, and would not be happy with Crystal if she found out she had someone over without permission. 

“Are you sure you’ll be fine walking home?” Crystal asked, watching Gigi put her shoes back on from where she was standing in the kitchen.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I live like, two streets down, actually so I’ll be there in like five minutes!” Gigi reassured her.

They hugged goodbye, Crystal walking her out and standing on her front porch until Gigi went out of sight. A few minutes later, Gigi messaged her.

gigi: i’m home and i miss ur cat

crystal: :o only tic tac??? not me??

gigi: yeah <3

crystal: you’re a loser

To Crystal’s disappointment, she didn’t hear from Gigi again until much later. Crystal had been debating getting off TikTok and going to sleep early for once when Gigi finally messaged her back. 

gigi: do u wanna facetime

crystal: YEAH!

Crystal balanced her phone on her history textbook that was still laying on her bed and grabbed Tic Tac, knowing Gigi would love seeing the cat again. 

“Hi!” Gigi waved, gasping when she saw Tic Tac in frame. “Who’s the cutest cat ever?”  

Gigi showed Crystal her room and her closet. Eventually, they both exited the FaceTime app to go on Twitter, but stayed on the call. They made it their mission to annoy the other girls by spamming them with pictures of frogs and other memes they had found funny.

crystal: frog in a hat frog in a hat

nicky: why not sheep? they are the superior animal!

crystal: No <3 but i fuck with you for trying

Jackie: Does this happen often?

nicky: crystal and gigi are always on some bullshit. just ignore them queen

jan!: nicky pls stop trying to steal jackie 

nicky: i simply breathed

“Hey, I think I’m going to bed,” Crystal yawned, “I’m tired. I would’ve been asleep by now if you didn’t want to talk.”

“Wait, before you go, do you maybe want to walk to school together tomorrow?” Gigi asked, coming back onto the app to see Crystal’s face.

Crystal smiled. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Great! I’ll message you in the morning. Goodnight, ba- bitch!”

Being so tired, Crystal almost didn’t catch Gigi’s slip up. “Goodnight, Gigi.”

Being just friends was going to be difficult, Crystal decided before finally allowing herself to fall asleep.

-

Walking to school became Gigi and Crystal’s new thing. With Crystal’s mom’s permission, Gigi would join Crystal after school on days she didn’t have practice, often staying for dinner. Crystal’s mom met Gigi a week after they started doing this, and was very skeptical the first time she met Gigi, not expecting Crystal to have befriended a cheerleader, but quickly welcomed her with open arms.

After Gigi had dinner with Crystal and her mom, her and Crystal went back into Crystal’s room to get some homework done. Gigi’s mom requested her to come home after Gigi and Crystal finished Gigi’s algebra homework. They were both pretty bad at math, but Crystal insisted if they worked together they would be able to figure it out, which was debatable at best.  

“I don’t want to go. I’m too comfy,” Gigi complained, not wanting to get up from Crystal’s bed.

“You have to. Sorry.” Crystal replied, making Gigi stick her tongue out at her.

A few moments later, Gigi sat up, remembering that she wanted to ask Crystal something. “Hey, so before I go, I was thinking…”

“You think?” Crystal teased, giggling. Gigi gasped in mock offense, throwing a pillow at her head.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Gigi continued, “I was thinking that we should have lunch together tomorrow. Only talking to you in the halls is not enough.”

“Yeah, of course! Do you want to meet me in the art room then?” Crystal asked, shutting her textbook and turning to face Gigi. 

“No. I’ll come meet you outside your class. What happens next is a surprise.”

Those words replayed in Crystal’s brain for the rest of the night. A conversation that happened in the group chat when Crystal was in the shower got her even more excited.

gigi: guys guess what

jan!: yeah??

gigi: i miss crystal :(

jan!: weren’t you at her house like an hour ago

heidi: hold up WHAT

heidi: miss gigi was WHERE????

jaida: what now

gigi: JAN SHUSH you ruined my reveal!!!

jaida: JAN YOU KNEW THIS??? and didn’t wish to share???

jan!: uh-

heidi: not a reveal DHGJSDH

gigi: i’m gonna ask crystal out and then after that i was gonna send a selfie of us revealing that we are dating AND that we live in the same town and everyone would lose their minds at the superior couple

jaida: now why would you announce that if she’s in here

gigi: SHIT

gigi: everyone spam the chat she doesn’t read up 

jan!: SUPERIOR COUPLE?? HELLO???

jan!: stealing your idea. we aren’t dating yet but look at me and jackie :-) 

nicky: I HEARD JACKIE IM HERE

jaida: nicky why do you hit on everyone who’s not available dgfhfj first gigi, and then you were a crystal stan and now this

nicky: why are you acting like this is a problem jai

Jackie: I find it hilarious. Jan only reserves that side of her when Ariana Grande posts a selfie. I’m chopped liver to her.

jan!: JACKIE THAT’S A LIE DHJBFDKH WHY DO YOU ONLY COME IN HERE TO BULLY ME

Jackie: ;)

gigi: jackie’s using emojis we did it gays

nicky: i am a homewrecker. jaida, find a partner and i will flirt with you too

heidi: nicky literally no one asked

jaida: well damn.. 

jaida: hey heidi you single??

heidi: NOT THISIDHDGKJS

Crystal usually didn’t read up, due to pure laziness and the fact that these girls could send fifty messages a minute if they wanted to. It was too much for Crystal sometimes. This time she decided to read up, and she was glad she did. They didn’t try hard enough to hide anything Gigi said, and Crystal was even more excited for the next day.

-

Crystal got up extra early that morning, putting more effort than she usually would on taming her curly hair and put on a tad bit more makeup than usual. She searched her closet for the perfect outfit, and finally picked out a hot pink jumpsuit with purple flowers on it, with a headband with the same design on it to match. 

She loved what she saw when she finally looked at herself in her full length mirror. Crystal knew this was going to be a good day; she looked good, and Gigi was going to ask her out during lunch. She was so excited.

gigi: im on ur street!

Crystal tried her best to mask her excitement as she walked down the hall and out the front door, not wanting Gigi to know she was aware of her plan.

“You look so cute!” Gigi exclaimed as soon as she saw Crystal.

“Thanks! You do too, we match!” Crystal replied.

Gigi was wearing a pink floral shirt with white shorts, and Crystal thought she looked very nice. Gigi always did, but it didn’t appear that she put in any extra effort, unlike Crystal did.

Crystal didn’t let that upset her, she told herself that the way Gigi dressed probably wouldn’t affect anything Gigi had planned. 

Due to Crystal’s impatience, the morning felt much longer. When the bell signaling that it was lunch finally rang, Crystal couldn’t hide the gigantic grin on her face if she tried. Right outside the doorway stood Gigi, and two other girls who were on the cheerleading squad. Crystal found this odd, but made her way over anyway.

“Hey, you ready?” Gigi asked, giving Crystal a quick hug. “This is Rosy and this is Symone,” Gigi said, motioning to the other girls. “I want you to meet them so we’re all having lunch together!”

Realization hit. There was no date, Crystal was way off. She really hoped her face didn’t show her disappointment. She tried to ignore it, Crystal was curious to meet Symone and Rosy. Gigi had mentioned them briefly before, but they must’ve been close if Gigi was introducing them.

“Just with you guys? Not Dahlia?” 

“Nope, she has a dentist appointment.” Gigi confirmed, and the four of them took off to the cafeteria.

Lunch was surprisingly nice. Rosy and Symone were way nicer than Dahlia ever had been to Crystal. Symone liked to paint, and Rosy loved Harry Styles so there was much for Crystal to discuss with them. Crystal didn’t like them as much as she liked her internet friends, but she couldn’t say they didn’t exceed her expectations. Crystal wondered why Gigi wasn’t always surrounding herself with cheerleaders like Rosy and Symone, who were genuinely nice and positive, but that would be a question for another time. 

Despite lunch going better than expected, Crystal was sad that she was so off about what Gigi had planned. She felt stupid, even though none of what Gigi had said hinted to only inviting Crystal to have lunch with her friends on the squad.

-

On their way to Crystal’s house, Gigi could tell something was off with the green haired girl. She was going to get to the bottom of it. 

“What’s wrong, babe?” Gigi asked once they got in Crystal’s room, both of them sitting on the bed. 

“It’s stupid, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine,” Crystal lied, busying herself by petting Tic Tac, who had jumped up to join them on the bed.

“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.” Gigi pushed, wanting to help.

Crystal took a deep breath, and let it all out. “What are we, Gigi? We said we’d be just friends for now but I thought you were going to take me on a date during lunch today since you told the group chat about your plan but I was wrong!” 

Gigi had to take a moment to process everything. “I was going to try to clear that up by taking you on a date during spring break.” She admitted, making Crystal’s eyes go wide.

“Fuck… I’m sorry, I just-” Crystal mumbled, feeling awful,

“That’s why I wanted you to meet my other friends.” Gigi continued, “I think I’m going to come out to them before spring break.”

Crystal was shocked, “Gigi, spring break is next week. Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah. I need to. I talk to them about you all the time and I think they’re starting to get suspicious.” Gigi blushes.

“Even Dahlia?”

“Yeah, but she’s moving this summer so she’ll be out of her hair soon enough.”

“I think this is the best day ever, honestly.” Crystal giggles, leaning forward to press a kiss to Gigi’s cheek, making her whine.

“No. On the lips.” Gigi pouted. 

“I don’t kiss before the first date, Georgia Rose.” Crystal teases. 

“You’re so stupid!” Gigi huffs, tackling Crystal onto her bed, tickling her sides until she thought Crystal had enough. When Gigi finally stopped, Crystal lied there for a moment, still giggling even though Gigi’s manicured fingers weren’t on her anymore. 

“You’re so mean! I didn’t deserve that.” 

“You’re the one who wouldn’t kiss me!” Gigi whined again, flipping Crystal off.

“Don’t stress. G. Spring break will be here before we know it.”

[rhubarbbaby]

Strawberries and Art 1

Jihoon x Y/N

Genre: College AU, Fluff Word Count: 2k Summary: Like every passionate art student, you spend most of your time immersed in your drawings and paintings. The day you meet Jihoon, your everyday life suddenly gets a lot more exciting…

All chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Chapter 1

Changing the song that was currently playing on your phone, while at the same time trying very hard not to reduce your walking speed was definitely (much) harder than you thought. Twenty minutes ago you had still been asleep in your comfy bed while dreaming about... dreaming about what?

The memories of your dream had slipped away the second your alarm went off. The excessively shrill, piercing tone you had set for your alarm used to get you into a lot of fights with your brother when you were still living at home, because “What the fuck is that sound? Can´t you just use that weird guitar riff like any other fucking normal person?” Although you did always feel a tiny bit of pity for your brother and knew that he had a point (you would of course never admit that), you never changed the sound. You surely were not fond of it yourself but you needed something to pull you out of your sleep.

Even before you started attending university you were used to staying up late. Undeniably, staying up late was and will never be a healthy way to treat your body, you are very much aware of that. Your body wanting to sleep for seven maybe even eight hours was something you have always considered the cruelest inconvenience, the most ridiculous joke, the crudest rule the universe has set for you. Late at night was the time it was the easiest for you to pour all your thoughts, all the inspirations you had collected during the day into your drawings. How were you supposed to bend all your whirls of ideas into drawings if your body was basically screaming at you to finally go to bed? How presumptuous of your body to expect you to fulfill his basic needs.

But no matter how tired you were you nearly never managed to fall asleep before one in the morning which made you resort to the drastic measure of changing your alarm sound to said very shrill tone. After sometimes only four hours of sleep, your body was not willing to let you jump out of bed as simple as that.  One could say the fatigue almost holds you captive every morning until around nine am when you normally start to free yourself from the clutches of your own tired body.

Yesterday you unintentionally set the aforementioned alarm an hour too late which had led to you now having to rush to the lecture hall. Your art history class would be starting in three minutes and you needed at least another five to even get to the entrance door. Despite having had to open the music app on your phone just to select a completely different album until you could finally pick your desired song, you were sure you didn´t lose more than a few seconds. Now accompanied by an uplifting song (not too uplifting though because it was still only eight in the morning which was definitively too early for upbeat music) and the tapping of your shoes on the asphalt you were practically running to your destination.

The moment you finally reached the entrance door a wave of relieve swept over you. Your lecture had only started two minutes ago, which wasn´t too bad. You hurried down the hallway and slipped quickly through the door. Your eyes darted to the front to see if the professor had already started the class. Luckily for you she was still setting up the projector for her visual presentation.  While you tried to breathe calmly, which turned out to be quite a challenge after you had just crossed the entire campus in record time; you were looking for a free seat in the back. But this was an art history class. At eight in the morning. Nothing like an art history class before ten guarantees such an absurdly small amount of participating students. It was not difficult for you to find a free seat. (To be precise: you caught sight of more than twenty free seats.)

Seeing how many of your fellow students had deemed this class as “not worthy waking up for” you suddenly felt a bit insecure and ridiculous. You hated to miss class, even if it was art history. You knew that by simply listening to the professor you would already internalize some of the information. That meant you wouldn´t have to study as much at home anymore which meant you had more time for your drawings. Simple equation. Nevertheless you were feeling like the biggest nerd sitting in a half empty lecture hall with five other students.

Shaking your head slightly as if to get those unnecessary thoughts out of your brain you decided that it wouldn´t do you any good to continue thinking about your situation, so you simply took out your notebook and a pen to prepare yourself for the lecture. Four minutes after the professor had started speaking, your thoughts were already drifting off and your notebook got slowly filled with small doodles instead of the notes you were supposed to be taking.

Putting your things back into your bag you looked at your phone to check the time. It was 10 am. The professor´s voice long condemned to a pleasant background noise, you had spent the last two hours dozing and scribbling in your notebook. You hadn´t had breakfast and you were not hungry but you knew that giving your body some fuel in form of food would be the right thing to do right now. It was Friday and you knew your friend Jo did have morning classes just like you, so you decided to shoot her a message.

You: Hey wanna get breakfast?

You already felt your phone buzz after you left the lecture hall.

Jo: Sure! I´ll wait at the cafeteria.

Happy that you wouldn´t have to eat alone you grinned at your phone and started walking towards your friend. Entering the cafeteria you saw Jo waving while sitting at one of those big tables on the side. You shot her a smile and made your way over. With an overdramatic sigh you slumped down in the chair opposite of her.

“Was art history that bad?” she chuckled. “Honestly? I was just too tired to pay attention. I will never understand why classes that early even exist... It´s inhuman.” you retorted while shaking your head to emphasize your point. “Pretty sure some really sick sadistic psychopath invented morning classes.” She laughed but you knew she hated to get up early just as much as you. “Does Hansol not have class this morning?”

Hansol had been Jo´s boyfriend for a few months now. It´s definitely not that you are one of those girls who are obsessed with finding a boyfriend, haunted by the mission to find a pretty boy to post pretty Instagram pictures with, but Jo and Hansol´s relationship was kind of perfect, or so it seemed to the public eye and even though you (most certainly) were not one those girls, you couldn´t help but feel a bit jealous. Jo was one of your best friends and you were aware that their relationship wasn´t always ideal. They had smaller and sometimes bigger fights, like any other couple but they both were as happy as you had ever seen them and they supported each other unconditionally. When they got together you were scared you´d feel excluded when the three of you would hang out but Hansol turned out to be a total sweetheart (there really was no other way to describe him) who made sure you never felt left out.

“He does. He just was too lazy to get up today.” She shrugged. “You want pancakes? I´ll go get the food.” “Sure!” Fifteen minutes later both of you were not hungry anymore. “I didn´t even realize how hungry I was.” “I only ever realize how hungry I am when I start eating.” you agreed. “I totally forgot to ask you but did you already start drawing that portrait assignment?” “Don´t even remind me. I still have no idea who I´m going to draw. I don´t just want to draw some random celebrity. Everyone is going to do that and I really want it to be good.” “Yeah…but not everyone will be doing it as good as you. But like, have you thought about asking someone to model for you?” “Jo, are you indicating you want to be my muse?” you laughed with her tuning in right away. The mental image of her posing for you was more than just ridiculous. Just as she was about to answer, a boy interrupted the two of you. “You´re Hansol´s girlfriend right?” he asked her.

You had seen him passing you on the hallway before but until now he had never caught your eye. One look was enough for you to realize how pretty he actually was. Just like a mathematician who recognizes numbers everywhere with which they can explain mundane processes, just like a linguist who notices every subtlety of every single word and could distinguish the hidden delicate messages between each syllable, just like that you saw lines, strokes, patterns in the most varied and vivid colors that joined together in your imagination to form drawings and paintings in every place. You could be looking at any flower and the way the petals bent, the way the leaves curled around the stem would just make sense to you. That´s how you were looking at that boy´s face right now. His face seemed to consist out of tender drawn lines that intervened at the perfect spots. His eyes, his nose, his mouth that was slightly twisted upwards into a smile, everything just fit so wonderfully together you inevitably had to think about how amazing it would be to draw him.

“Yup, that´s me.” Jo´s voice had yanked you back out of your thoughts. “Me and Hansol have a class together. I forgot I still had one of his books and I think he needs it to study for that exam next week. Can I just leave it with you?”   He was holding out a book to her. “Sure! That´s really sweet of you, looking out for him like that.” With a comically exaggerated gesture he bowed before us. “The pleasure was all mine,” He grinned. “I´m Jihoon by the way.” “I´m Jo and this is Y/N.” Only now he turned his upper body and finally looked at you. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Maybe it was just your imagination, caused by the desire to be noticed by this undoubtedly (really fucking) attractive boy, but his gaze seemed to have remained on you for a tiny second too long for it to be considered normal.

“Delighted to meet you guys.” he stated with a childlike smile on his face which made his eyes disappear. “There´s this party tomorrow. Hansol said he´s coming. You two should come as well.” “We´ll think about it! Sounds like fun though.” Jo answered for the both of you. “Perfect! I should get going. I have class in a bit.” His gaze was turned back onto you. “You´re still going to eat that?” “Wha…What?” “That strawberry. You´re not going to eat that?” Only then you realized you had left a single strawberry on your plate. “No..you can have it.” You stuttered your reply, your eyes wide from embarrassment because you hadn´t immediately figured what he had meant. He picked up the strawberry and took a bite. “Thanks!” he grinned. And then he winked at you. Just like that. Without warning. Promptly you could feel your cheeks turn slightly red and you wanted nothing more than to hide your face in your hands but at the same time you could still not stop staring at his face. In that moment you would´ve sworn that wink was the cutest (but somehow also hottest) thing you had ever seen in your life. “See you at the party!” with that he turned away from you and made his way over to the exit.

Only now your cheeks slowly lost color and your breath seemed to slow down again. You looked at Jo. She looked at you. You didn´t have to say anything , she had already deciphered you. “So you think he´s hot?” she beamed. “So fucking hot.”

What you couldn´t have seen, of course, was the smile with which Jihoon had left the room. What else was he supposed to do when you were that damn cute?

Hi! It´s me, Jo. I´d like to thank you for reading my stuff! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you have any feedback, comments, requests, questions please let me know!

[impulsivelycontentious]

No one reads this or connects it with my other online identities but since I've removed personals involvement from my other social media stuff, and I feel like bitching, I am jsut gonna go ahead and do it.

So I have brain damage. Yeaaaaars ago I threw up so hard I actually ripped open the inside of an artery in my neck, and it threw a clot, and that clot did some nasty shit on its way on through and out.

No doctor noticed for two weeks.

Everyone else did.

Good times.

Anyway.

So now I have a damaged brain. Brains don't grow back. Some areas can regenerate a few cells - notably the prefrontal lobe - but mostly brains fix themselves not by regenerating like skin does, but by rearranging the cells we have to fire to fancy new configurations.

This has been quite the ride. Because shit, it changes things.

I don't even know how much of my personality is consistent. No idea. Let alone everything else.

I have memory loss my nurologist won't akowledge because it falls short of dementia. That was the bar. "You don't have dementia, you know what year it is." Gee thanks there chief.

Anyway.

My brain wasn't too stable to begin with. I have always been prone to logic leaps that occur very quickly and not necessarily in ways other people would make them. My mind is jumbled and a little random and things collide all the time that probably shouldn't.

This has become much worse since the brain damage. See, my brain keeps wiring shit together. Shit it really shouldn't. It changes who I am, what I think, what I can think.

It's actually quite terrifying to realise you're a sack of geletine misfiring lighting at itself.

So anyway. To the point. Yes - I have one of those. Probably. It's somewhere in here.

Oh right, no, another detour. I'm autistic. "Oh yeah, they definatly didn't screen girls when I was a kid because how the fuck did they miss this otherwise" autistic.

Back to the point.

Recently I had this sensory processing ... Whatever the fuck that was. I call them.idssocistive episodes. I don't know how accurate that is. But my mind unhooks from my sensory data. Everything feels muted and unreal - sound, sight, touch, heat. Name it. It's wrong.

I hate these.

It gets particularly nasty because there are nurologicsl consequences. See, my concious mind ramps up it's interpretation of sensory data. It goes all in and leaves the rest of my existence stuffed in this tiny little box without enough space to do dick.

One effect of this is I suddenly become highly obsessive. I think it's a comfort mechanism, I require the same stimulus over and over again or to somehow mentally connect it to the same element. Of course, it could also jsut be that obsessive behaviour towards interests is part of who I am. I am autistic. I DEFIANTLY go all in when something fascinates me. But not... Not like this.

Do you have ANY IDEA how many times I watched starwars 8 in 72 hours? Any clue? Holy fricking ... Something. I watched it fast. I watched it slow. I watched it skipping ahead 10 seconds every 10 seconds. I dissected that thing in micrscopic detail.

It gets better. Because mere hours before I got hit with this episode... I was not a starwars fan.

Nope. I watched it. It was ok. I wasn't going out of my way for it.

And suddenly. Wham. Episode 8. All the time. I watched some 7 and 9 as well but it was like it was entierly because eit was connected to 8.

I cannot even.

And while this is happening, *I know*. I know. I really do. I know this isn't my normal behaviour. I know this isn't my wheelhouse. I know something is deeply, deeply wrong in my brain.

I think it might actually be an ok movie, honestly. But not THAT good. And now it's one of my favourite things. Forever. I have no idea if it's actually good. Did I not give eit a chance the first time? Is my obsessive brain simply emotionally hooked up how? Fuck, I don't know.

So that's why I'm posting today. On this day. May 4th.

I'm seeing a lot of star wars today and it's making my brain tickle with it's own ridiculousness.

Not the whole point though. Because it lasted 72 hours (I watched dit one more time after that and if wasn't near as intense).

But what happened AFTER my 72 hours as an obsessive raylo (oh yeah. I went there. I'm not even ashamed. I am also compeltely content with the end they got, because I do not see that shit working out).

Brains don't regrow. They rewire.

And suddenly, I'm drawing. Like... A lot. I filled pages of doodles. Sketches. I redrew a peice I'd been working on for about a month in a few hours and damnit, it was good. It's not professional quality but I'd never down anything that well before. This goes on for another day. And then I started a story, and I wrote 2000 words all at once.

I'm dyslexic. And words are severely impacted by my brain damage to the point it can cause me phsycial pain to force my thoughts in to words.

And here I am. Going nuts on my phone. The words just spilling out and again - damnit, it was good shit.

My brain was abstracting. Where the concious sort had been shunted, it wasn't directing the abstracting aspect of my mind.

And I was making cognative leaps. My brain was wiring itself together for creativity.

For another 24 hours.

And now, dear reader, we get to now.

I have written 200 words in the last 2 days. They feel wrong.

I started and stopped a dozen images. None of them feel right. And there are objective quality differences.

I can still draw a bit. If I'm not tired. I'm almost always tired - it's neural fatigue, it comes with surviving a brain damage.

I have somehow brain damaged my way in to better skills.

And it's... It's not a good feeling.

Doing it the first time and watching something take place in front of my eyes I don't recognise was like magic. It was euphoric. Amazing. Exciting.

Realising as time wears on that the ability to do this is intrinsically tied in to the way ones brain handles brain damage and sensory processing issues?

Not a great feeling cats. Not at all.

I find myself staring at a document willing words on tot he page that just aren't there anymore and feeling so frustrated I could scream.

Whose idea was this anyway? Why can't I keep my rewiring?

It's so hard dto explain the feeling of loss.

It's not me who did these things. A version of me, yes. But not the one we are keeping.

The one we keep struggles to hold a narrarive in her head and the narrator's tone took 3 rewritten to preserve for a single paragraph.

I don't want to stop. But how do I keep going? I'm not the author anymore and I've always struggled with adopting the tone of others.

So yeah. That's where I'm at. And I wanna talk about it. Because I don't want to be alone. But I can't escape the feeling I'm being dramatic. Terribly dramatic. And so talking about it is hard. How much is my own spin and perception and how much is real?

Did this really happen?

I think it did. But like every story I tell, I don't know. Memory loss. Cognetive issues.

I just wanna tell stories and draw. But the words hurt and the art makes me tired.

It's frustrating is all.

I hate being lighting geletine.

In case you're wondering what kind of cognative leap happened:

That one is april 4th.

And that one April 28th.

🤷‍♀️

Fucked if I know, really.