#i know it said famous style or famous piece but you know what i want this guys work be famous fr

[moonshynecybin]

I’ve only been into/started following MotoGP for a few months. Can I ask how exactly did Marc getting the Ducati seat go down? I’ve seen references of it being jorge messing up/rejecting the seat and that somehow leading to Marc masterminding his way to it but don’t fully get it. Thank you :))))

lmao it was awesome. under the cut shes crazy shes long shes the war of the roses shes game of thrones shes ducati being fucking STUPID !!!!!

okay so the beginning of this season going towards the middle was like. genuinely dominated by discussion of who would end up with the second factory ducati seat, and there were 3 main candidates for the position: 1. enea bastianini, who had the seat but who had had a spotty 2023 marred by injury and was delivering inconsistent results in the early part of 2024, 2. jorge martin, who had been basically promised the seat ahead of them uno reversing and signing enea, and who had contended for the title the year before/was leading the world championship early in 2024, and 3. marc marquez, 8 time world champion and arguable GOAT of the sport, who was doing insane comeback rides on a year old bike that he had very little time to adapt to. on pure results, you would have to go with martin (it was p clear it wasnt going to be my girl enea....), but marc looked uh. very promising and very dangerous (apparently his data, ESPECIALLY in the left handers, was like. bonkers), and who was also undeniably a better business asset to ducati as a company trying to sell motorbikes. and as we all knowwwwww, ducati had BY FARRRR the most dominant bike on the grid, so they are staring down the barrel of like. deciding between three excellent riders for one, extremely coveted seat. they think they hold all the cards here, and after a bit of rampant speculation the ducati bosses say everybody calm the fuck down we will make a decision about the gp25 seat at MUGELLO. forza. and with that the stage is set.

but again. ducati had basically promised jorge martin that seat. in fact, there was a provision in his contract that said if he won the world title in 2023, he would automatically be promoted to the factory team. like if marc doesnt come in on his merry way essentially doing a year long AUDITION for that seat up-to and including crowd-commanding theatrics, then it is undeniably martin's bike to have. and it looks like ducati kinda thought they should honor that too! because it was reported (unofficially but through a multitude of reliable sources) on the thursday before mugello that jorge martin WOULD be signing with the factory ducati team to be in red for 2025 IMMINENTLY. and he shows up to the presscon with the moon shinging out of his ass and we didnt rlly have a reason to doubt him so things are looking pretty locked up tbh

so another piece of the puzzle. for the last few years one cog in the wheel of ducati's dominance has been them having EIGHT bikes on the grid, and as such having insane amounts of data to comb through and synthesize while developing the bike. at the time, the team with the most factory support is pramac racing. but YAMAHA have made a promise to a young shirtless man named fabio quartararo that they will get a satellite team for 2024 to help with THEIR efforts, and pramac's contract with ducati is expiring so theyre the top choice. yamaha offers them a fuck you amount of cash and full factory support to leave ducati and come run the M1s with them. and the thing is, it is EXPENSIVE to run an independent team and this sugar daddy style deal would essentially lock down their immediate future quite nicely, so they are thinking HARD about this— because if they lose jorge martin like. what the fuck are they doing not taking that deal. and YOU are asking me girl what the fuck does this had to do with marc marquez WELLLLL. ducati know that marc wants a gp25. and pramac has the factory spec bikes. and marc's famous ass is a VERY valuable little bargaining chip in their eyes. so ducati APPARENTLY wanted marc on the same deal jorge martin was on (complete with the promise of factory promotion if he won the championship) at PRAMAC in order to keep marc, jorge martin, and pramac all under the umbrella of ducati racing. they think problem solved :) we get to keep everything and everyone :) marc gets a current spec bike, jorge gets to be on the factory team, and we can still run eight bikes :) awesome.

WELL! marc catches wind of all of this and goes. fuck you i want to be a factory rider on a gp25. like why on earth would he move from busted satellite team to busted satellite team that doesnt even have his BROTHER ? so instead of keeping all of these negotiations behind closed doors he trots right the fuck up to the press at mugello and says hello yes i have ABSOLUTELY no intention of riding for pramac, in fact i only have the intention of riding with factory teams. big smile. fuck you. press run wild. domino tipped. pramac pissed off. ducati SWEATING.

AND i guess the ducati CEO (claudioooooo) was there. and some big sponsorship guys (audiiiiiii) were there. and it has been LONG been reported that gigi daligna really wanted marc for that seat (and that pecco REALLY didnt lmao). like bad. some would say carnally. and then i guess they looked at his data. and thought about how well he had already adapted to the gp23. and how badly he was beating bez and company. and i suppose the idea of actually losing marc and him going to a KTM or an aprilia scared the actual genuine NIPS off of these guys and literally by sunday night they had apparently called jorge martin to let him know that it wasnt going to be him and he went over to aleix and got that aprilia contract signed genuinely immediately (and enea later signed with ktm and pramac with yamaha). so the aprilia news was announced on monday and we knew marc was the choice from that, and then they announced it officially in the dumbest smuggest little video of all time a lil while after. but not before marc took a selfie in a shirt that said FACTORY PILOT that he later lied about and said wasnt on purpose. king. done and dusted. insanity.

so to recap: in the course of four days, marc essentially pulled a coup out of thin air by just. deciding to exercise some muscle with the press, which caused ducati to lose two bikes, secured the best seat on the grid for himself, and made sure that two of the riders that finished top four in this year's championship (including the CHAMPION) are on much worse machines going into next year. like he literally created the best possible outcome for himself by virtue of his reputation, media savvy, and sheer force of will. it was absolute crazy shit and SO much fun to watch play out live

[sentientstump]

"Archers" by Koriakin Innokentii as Team Canada for @shepscapades hc character design week 3 prompt (no, im not late, everyone is just faster! >.<)

i went to his exhibition in 2021 with my mom and it was really great :D his works have the most familiar warmth vibe to me and im just "ghgfhhdfjj 👍🏼💥!!!" about it. You can check his ig page if you wanna see more!

original (there's no quality scan of it u_u and I couldn't figure out how to download from ig...) and rough designs i guess? thought process in alt text

[shinestarhwaa]

DEEP DIVE || CHOI SAN

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Pairing: San x Fem reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Tags/Warnings: Famous!AU, Established relationship, idol!San, actress!yn, dirty language, unprotected sex, spanking, breeding kink, riding, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, praise, aftercare, dom!san, sub!yn

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno @therealcuppicake @unholywriters @enbymingi @jjoongstar

ENJOY!

It's been a while since you've had some time with your boyfriend San. He's been abroad for tour and several events for weeks and you were spending your time filming your new movie Uproar across Europe.

When San facetimed you last week to tell you he'd be seeing you during Fashion Week you were over the moon. Italy was one of your favourite countries in the world so spending time with him there was a true gift.

Over the next few days the news got spread around gossip town that both San - global K-pop star and you - global moviestar would attend the event. It hadn't been long since the public found out about you two being together. Some paparazzi found the two of you snuggling in a park late at night during one of your dates and spread it around.

You felt some relief when it happened, though. You finally didn't have to sneak around as much anymore, now everyone knew. You were more nervous than San was about it. "But what about your career?" You had said to him, but he assured you that you were worth everything. He would give up anything for you. Luckily the hate wasn't that bad to deal with.

It's D-Day and your team is getting you ready, fitting you in a gorgeous Dolce & Gabbana gown, specially created for you. The dress was black and fitted you like a glove, classy and stylish. You got some heels and golden jewelry to match with it.

Your hair got styled down and it was glowing in the warm lights. Your social media team took some pictures before sending you off to the event. You were not sure what San would be wearing tonight. His debut this summer was all over the internet; him wearing the beautifully designed corset piece. You had send him voice messages of you freaking out over how hot he was that night and how badly you wanted him.

You could not help but think about how tonight would end, knowing you're sharing a hotel room together. It's been weeks since you've had the chance to be intimate with San and you knew he's bursting. And truthfully, so are you.

Seeing San enter the room, you feel your heart beat faster. You've been waiting on him, carefully watching the door so you wouldn't miss him. When he finally does enter, the room lit up, but it seems like everyone disappears. He looks so handsome tonight, you fell in love all over again.

He's wearing a black shirt - unbuttoned for a large part, exposing his large, toned chest. He wears the shiny pants gracefully, but your eyes keep on shifting back to his chest, where a cross-necklace lays in the valley of his hard pecs.

You try so hard not to drool all over yourself when he notices you and comes your way. You're in an secluded area right now, where no paparazzi can see you, so you don't hesitate before kissing him on the lips and embracing him in your arms.

"My dear, I've missed you so much. It feels incredible to see you again, feel you again," he whispers in your ear. "I know, I've missed you so much, Sanie."

The rest of the night felt like a warm bundle of joy. The lovely conversations with San and the designers won't be forgotten easily, but the thing you were mostly busy with was pretending you weren't incredibly horny.

When you finally step into your hotelroom you push San against the wall instantly. He laughs and lays his hands on your hips. "Oh?"

"Baby I have no time to seduce you and all that, I've been so incredibly horny tonight and I need you to take care of it right now."

"Okay, okay, you've made yourself clear," he grins, a naughty smirk playing on his lips. He slides down the wall and comes to eyelevel with your hips. You feel San's fingers glide across the back of your ankles to your calves, lifting up your dress along the way. His touch gives you goosebumps and shivers in a way you never experienced before.

"You're wearing the tiniest panties I've ever seen honey, they don't leave much to the imagination," San says as he pressed kisses along your thigh. You squirm underneath his touch, imagination running wild.

San pulls the fabric down and the panties pool around your ankles. You feel his hot breath fan over your exposed cunt. You nearly whimper just at the mere feel of the tip of San's tongue sliding through your folds, just slightly.

"S-San," you breathe out. His strong hands roam across the back of your thighs and your ass, groping it as he slides his tongue over your pussy again. San loves to taste you, he made that clear a thousand times already, but he seemed ten times more hungry than ever before.

"God, you're wet. I love this fucking pussy, my beautiful pussy, just for me," he rambled inbetween licks and strokes of his tongue. He landed on your clit after a few more strokes, putting pressure on the bundle of nerves, making you cry out.

"O-Oh! San!"

"You might wanna keep it down a notch for the neighbours," he grins, his last words before totally devouring you. The way he devours your pussy, savouring every single drop of your wetness, earning the softest and whiniest moans from you.

You held onto his broad shoulders and let your hands roam through his hair, pulling it slightly when he teased your clit. It doesn't take long before your body starts to shake and tremble, coming on his tongue.

San didn't take it as a cue to stop, but continues to eat your pussy like a starved man. Your moans grow louder when you feel his tongue slip inside you. You grow so desperate you start to hump him, ride your cunt on his face. You felt his nose bump into your clit a few times and you just can not bring yourself to stop.

Just as you're about to reach a second climax, San pulls away and manhandles you to bend over the kingbed. You breathe loudly and whine, complaining about he should've let you cum again. Your protests are rejected by a loud and harsh spank on your ass to shut you up.

He spanks you repeatedly, pushing your face into the mattress. You whine and whimper, feeling San's hard smacks on your skin. You know he isn't punishing you for anything, he is spanking you for your pleasure because you love when he's a little rough with you.

You squirm underneath his touch everytime, until he stops. You can hear noises behind you, noises of San taking off his clothes and you cry when he suddenly slips inside. San sighs as he sinks into your warm hole.

"Fuck, angel, you're so warm and tight for me," he groans.

San hovers over you, covering your entire body with his own as he thrusts into you. His movements are sharp and rough, fucking you deep. His left hand grips your left hip, while his right hand is still pushing your face down. It is slightly hard to breathe but it exhilarates you, knowing he has full control over you right now.

Your boyfriend pulls out and orders you to lay on your back, and you follow his instructions. You notice he is still wearing the jewelry from earlier, and you see how good he looks with it. He hovers above you again, lifting your legs and placing them on his broad, muscular shoulders. You loved seeing the contrast of your skin on his. His gorgeous, tan skin, shiny with sweat.

San slides his fat, hard cock into your awaiting pussy again, moaning out your name. You shiver when he bottoms out and his hands roam over the back of your thighs.

"You look so pretty when I stuff your cunt full with my cock."

He picks up his pace and thrusts deep into you, earning the most beautiful moans from you. "Such a pretty mess on my big cock, perfect for taking it. You take it so well, don't you baby?"

"Y-Yes, San, yes I do!"

"You are getting so tight baby, are you gonna come? Gonna come on my big cock like the good girl you are?" He smirks.

"San, please, please!" You plead. San rams his cock into you repeatedly, fucking you the hardest he can, the deepest he can to please you. The pleasure soon becomes so overwhelming you're sure you're seeing stars.

"That's it darling, come for me, come on my cock," he grunts. It only takes one more thrust for you to fall apart, a wave of pleasure washing over your body. Your body tingles, your toes curl and you moan loudly as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"That's it baby, good girl, you're so good, taking my cock like that. I can come now too, hm? You're gonna let me come in your delicious pussy? Fuck it full with my cum?"

You claw at the back of his neck and his shoulders as he nearly folds you, trapping you completely under his strong body.

"Y-Yes San, give it to me, give it to me, please, breed my pussy," you whine, still in a haze from your orgasm. San's moans grow gradually louder, until he bursts, spilling his hot seed into you, groaning loudly with each thrust.

He rides out his orgasm and pulls out, gently placing your legs down on the bed. The both of you pant hard, trying to slow your breathing. San gently kisses the top of your head and your soft lips with a smile.

"God, you're so amazing," he grins against your lips. He lays down next to you and strokes your back, holding you in his arms. "No, you are the amazing one. You truly make me feel like nobody else can."

It's silent for a while, but it's nice, basking in your afterglow. Feeling his skin on yours and hearing his heartbeat as you lay on his chest. You feel so safe and sound, everytime you are with him. It's hard to think straight sometimes, but you loved the feeling he gives you.

"Did you ask me to breed you?" San asks, reminiscing what you just did. He laughs as you blush and get embarrassed, hiding your face in the nape of his neck. "Shut up, San," you groan. "Nah," he says, "if that's what the lady wants, that's what the lady gets." "I like the sound of that," you laugh. Before he can say anything else, you hold him back with a kiss.

[katiascraft]

“I need to confess. I told you a lie. I said you were the love of my life.” | LN4

part 2 of this.

Parings: Lando Norris x Ex!Bisexual!Reader.

Summary: after leaving Lando, you realized what real love was like. Unfortunately, he didn’t and all he could think about every time he looks at his new parter is you.

Now playing: “L’AMOUR DE MA VIE” by Billie Eilish.

Word count: +2k.

Warnings: angst (?) insults (?) cursed words. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: maybe this sucks. well I don’t know but I just came to this idea for a part 2 no one asked of this but yeah. Reader deserved a happy ending ❤️‍🩹 Don’t forget to like, comment or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

It’s been 10 months since the worst day of your life. The day you had enough of the place that you weren’t enough for. The place who made you so miserable and insecure. The place that broke you in so many pieces it turned you to dust. The place where you never want to go back to.

It’s been the hardest 10 months of your life. Mourning the life you thought you would have forever was the worst process you got yourself through. How you had to not only get over your ex, Lando, but also the you that wasn’t gonna be you anymore for the rest of your life. And that was the hardest past. Let go of who you were when he was in your life and let go of all the memories. It was like learning to be a functioning human being again. And you also thought you couldn’t bear with being single. You felt so ashamed of not remembering how to approach people or even how to feel attractive yourself. You were nothing after that day.

For your family and friends was heartbreaking too. Not only because they had to mourn lando that now was out of your life so then their lives as well, but also the you they knew before and during the relationship. And now learning to know this new you.

It was hard for the first 3 months but thanks to your friends and intense therapy sessions you eventually got better. You started discovering a part of yourself you didn’t know existed. Leaving lando changed you not 180 degrees but 360. You changed your style, your hair, your humor, your attitude. You spoke up. Had a strong opinion. You started being more selective with people and for a long time you remained single. you worked on you. Trying to give yourself back everything that relationship took away. You made new friends and moved to New York to start a new life. In that city you found you loved music and storytelling so you started a musical career on YouTube and became kind of famous. You also went to university. And now you’re a content creator, you upload vlogs of your everyday life and opinions. You love fashion like crazy and post your outfits on Instagram and TikTok along with your music. And you are back into being happy. Not only with your life but with yourself. You love who you are and what you do for a living. There’s no one you have to follow or leave everything behind. You live now in your own world where you are the thing that matters the most. You feel so grateful you made it through.

But you were also madly loved for who you are. Tania was your new girlfriend. You didn’t even know you liked girls as well. You tried with guys but none of them felt right for you until you met Tania in a little music shop two blocks away from your apartment. It was the most romantic way of meeting someone you believed. You two went to the same shop to buy the same album and oh coincidence of life there was only one copy of it. And that’s how you met. She gave it to you and so you offered her to come to your place and listen to it together. Yeah you offered that to a stranger but she looked so beautiful. You felt something so weird you haven’t ever felt before in your life. His blonde hair so shiny and his brown eyes so deep you could drown in them with no problem. She was gorgeous.

In fact, you never felt so seen until you met her. The way she actually listened to what you had to say. The way he understood your insecurities and tried to help you and figure it out together. The way you could laugh for hours non-stop until you went dry from crying of laughter. When you felt how you felt with her you knew Lando didn’t matter at all. He never loved you for who you were. He never appreciated all of the sacrifices you did for him just because you thought you loved him your entire life. The way you listened and supported him anywhere, anyhow, whenever. You gave everything for him, but what about you? He never noticed you. He never saw you. He never cared about you.

Realizing that hurt at first but then you understood it was the wrong person at the wrong time. Because if you hadn’t been through what he put you through then this wouldn’t be your life and you wouldn’t be this loved.

But you know what they say, life’s a bitch so here you were again in Monaco for Alexandra’s birthday. It was gonna be a huge event in a yacht for all of her friends. So of course you knew lando was coming and you also knew because of Alex he had a new girlfriend as well. You weren’t intimidated by him but you felt a little insecure you know. You felt rather uncomfortable. But Alex was your friend and she was so nice she invited Tania as well and few of your hometown friends so you wouldn’t feel left apart. Alex knew you so well. You always have struggled with fitting in. She was really sweet. But at the same time you were also so excited to see the guys again. You talked to Pierre and kika. They were so excited to see you. You missed them all of course you did. Moving countries and having an ex who drives along them made things ticky. It was complicated to meet and hang around outside weekend races during the year and of course you wouldn’t assist knowing lando was there. You didn’t want to see him. So tonight is fireproof. If you see him again and survive then the paddock should get ready to see you every now and then with you gorgeous girl.

She knew about Lando of course. And she was the most supportive angel to you. Of course she also hated him. And probably could kill him if you let her. But she won’t just because you asked her.

you were going by taxi. You didn’t have your car because you were on the other side of the world and you wouldn’t waste money renting one just to go to a party in a yacht. You didn’t care about appearances anymore. You got to the harbor just in time. Most of the invited guests were already there. You got there with Tania in your hand and your group of friends. You looked around seeing so many familiar faces and the first one to run to you and hug you tightly was Kika followed by Pierre. You giggled on her shoulder hugging her as well.

“Oh my god girl you look fucking beautiful what the fuck I missed you so much” she said on your shoulder so excited to see you. It flattered your heart.

“I missed you too, my love” you said sweetly. And when you pulled apart you hugged Pierre and introduced Tania to them. They were always so warm. You really missed them. A few minutes passed and you were talking along with a lot of the formula 1 drivers and their partners just like the old days. You felt so part of it. And so loved. And all of them were so nice to Tania. She was so excited that she met Max and he posed for a picture with her that it melted your heart completely. You didn’t see lando by the way. He hasn't arrived yet. But Carlos didn’t either so probably they were coming together. After 15 minutes, the birthday girl finally arrived with her prince in hand and all of the guests were there. The yacht was ready as well. Lando was there with her. You knew her of course you did. She was friends with Max and Kelly. Of course you remember her. Lando is so predictable. You wanted to laugh in his face but you didn’t. You didn’t even say hi. You didn’t want to and you guess he didn’t either because he barely looks at you when he arrived.

(…)

The party was formidable and you were already drunk laughing and posing. Kika was trying to take a couple of pictures of you and Tania and the sunset behind you. It was a beautiful picture.

“Oh my god you’re so beautiful” she said finally ending the photo shoot so she showed you the pictures.

It felt so satisfying being back and not giving a fuck about Lando. All of the guys were so welcoming and sweet like they always had been with you.

Tania had to go to the bathroom. “You want me to go with you titi?” You called her by her nickname you created. She smiled and gave you a kiss on your lips.

“I’m okay baby. I’ll be right back” she said and after giving you one last kiss she disappeared through all of the people around heading to the bathroom. You stayed with your group of friends dancing around and having fun. Alex was there two sharing with all of us. You loved that woman. She was one of your closest friends who was there with you to hold you and listen. She knew what it was like. But she is loved unlike you weren’t. You were enjoying yourself until you heard someone clearing their throat like exaggerated. You turned to find lando clearly drunk looking at you with puppy eyes yet so dark. You of course didn’t like to see him.

“Y/n we need to talk” he said almost in a whisper so no one could hear him but you. Inside you felt disgusted. His voice was once your favorite sound, one that could send chills down your spine. Now it kinda repulses you.

“No, we don't need Lando. Just pretend I don’t exist” you said clearly upset by his behavior.

“But I can’t y/n. I couldn't stop looking at you since I arrived. I can’t get you out of my head. I tried. But I don’t know what else to do!” He was clearly drunk. And you were unbothered to be honest. You noticed Carlos and Oscar heard him and looked at you. You just rolled your eyes at lando.

“Then it’s not my fucking problem lando. You had me but you couldn’t give a damn about me. Sorry it's too late. I’m happy now and I am loved” you spitted about to turn when he grabbed your arm for you not to go.

“You said I was the love of your life. What happened to that? I know you’re the love of my life. Please, y/n” he said kind of desperately. You looked at him with a poker face. You felt nothing at all. And yes you were surprised but also so proud. Lando Norris meant nothing at all finally. He couldn’t move you. He didn’t have power over you anymore. You won.

“Well then I need to confess I lied. You weren’t the love of my life Lando. You were the motherfucker of my life. You fucking destroyed me. So stop with all of this bullshit” you said Angry. You were saying the truth without being afraid of it. You didn’t care anymore. Now your life is yours and he had no power over it. And you’re fucking happy. You just needed to make sure he knew it. And watch him suffer. And you could see something broke inside of him when he heard you saying that. Fortunately Tania came back from the bathroom just in time.

“Y/n, babe, is everything alright?” She asked, watching lando a little confused but controlling her desires to kill him right there.

You smiled at her. “Yeah beba all good now that you are here” you said, grabbing her by her waist and kissing her gently. She grabbed your face a little surprised at first. But she couldn’t say no to your lips. She was addicted. you didn’t care lando was there. You just kissed and turned to your group of friends ignoring that he was the guy you loved just like he did when he was with you.

[harrysfolklore]

Can you write a blurb where y/n is pregnant and she and harry are at a family party or something and everyone keeps touching her bump and she’s very uncomfortable, and harry comforts her? Xx

as usual, i hated the ending for this but i hope you guys like it 🥲 let me know your thoughts and thanks for the request <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

GIF BY @whatsthereinthename

The world was going crazy over Harry Styles becoming a dad.

And the fact that the picture he posted on his Instagram to announce it gathered over 30m likes, making it the 10th most liked picture on the platform’s history proved it.

However, his millions of fans all over the world weren’t the only ones feeling absolutely ecstatic over his wife being pregnant with his first child, his family was also losing their minds over the news.

The Styles family loved YN to pieces, and not only Harry’s nuclear family consisting of his mom and sister, his extended family including aunts, uncles, cousins and even family friends had grown to love the girl over the years. So when Anne called up to invite them over for one of her famous get togethers, they were over the moon because they knew the couple would be there and they would catch a glimpse of a pregnant YN for the first time.

“You ready, love?” Harry said as he entered their shared bathroom where his wife was applying the finishing touches to her makeup.

“I am, just need to spray on some perfume and I’m good to go.” She said as she turned around to face her husband, and when Harry got a proper look at her his breath almost hitched in his throat.

She looked absolutely breathtaking with her navy blue sundress and the brand new bump that adorned her body.

Harry swore that he had never seen someone more beautiful.

“Look at you, darling.” Harry simply said, putting a hand on his chin, looking at her almost in disbelief.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” YN joked for a moment, battling her eyelashes at him.

“No, you’re just the most gorgeous woman on this earth.”

“And you’re a total sap, let’s go, I don’t want us to be late.”

The car ride to Anne’s house was nice, their favorite soft tunes and small talk filled the air until they got there, and before getting off the car, Harry took a moment to reassurance his wife about the evening.

“If you feel uncomfortable or want to rest let me know immediately, okay? I don’t want you or baby to be overwhelmed.”

She pecked his lips softly before speaking, “We’ll be good, don’t worry.”

They got off the car and we’re instantly met with Anne waiting for them by the door, a fond smile on her face at the sight of two of her favorite people.

“I’m so happy you made it,” she said as he hugged Harry first, “Darling! You’re absolutely glowing!” she hugged her daughter-in-law, gently caressing her bump.

“Thank you, Anne. It’s so good to see you.”

The three of them headed to the backyard where the rest of the guests were mingling, and once YN stepped foot all eyes were on her, complimenting how beautiful her bump looked.

“YN darling! Long time no see!” one of Harry’s aunts approached her, hugging her before placing a hand on her bump.

At this, she immediately tensed, not used to anyone aside from Harry touching her bump.

Harry noticed it and he placed a hand on her back protectively before speaking, “We’re going to sit down for a bit, the missus is a bit tired from the drive here.”

Once they were seated next to Gemma and her boyfriend Michal, YN squeezed Harry’s leg gently and gave him a soft smile, as a way to thank him for his previous action.

The evening went on smoothly, they ate Anne’s delicious food and engaged with family they haven’t seen in a while.

However, every time someone came close to YN, trying to touch her bump or just invade her personal space, she grew more and more uncomfortable.

“Your bump is getting so big!”

“Is the baby kicking yet?”

“I miss having a baby bump.”

Were some of the comments YN had heard all day long, and by the time another of Harry’s aunts tried to approach her, she had enough and quickly exited the backyard before she could reach her.

“Love? Are you okay? Saw you running away back there.”

Harry’s voice made its way to her ears, she was leaning on the kitchen counter, her back facing him.

“I’m okay, just needed a breather.” She said, her eyes closed and still not facing him.

“Hey,” Harry slowly approached her, standing next to her but not touching her, “Can you look at me please?”

YN slowly turned around, and once Harry saw her watery eyes with tears threatening to come out, he pulled her to his chest.

“What’s going on, love? What made you upset?”

YN took a few breaths before speaking, “I just, I’m not used to anyone but you touching my bump and being close to me, and your aunts have been all over me all evening and I guess I got overwhelmed,” she sniffed before continuing, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude to your family but these hormones are acting up.”

“It’s okay love, nothing to apologize for,” he pecked her forehead softly, “Do you want to get out of here, we can leave now.”

“No, we don’t have to leave,” YN interrupted him, “Can you just, stay next to me when we go out there? I feel safer when you’re close.”

Harry almost melted at her words, and she grabbed her chin and kissed her lips softly.

“Of course, my love. I’ll always make sure you and baby feel safe and comfortable.”

And with a final shared kiss, they headed out again, Harry staying by YN’s side the entire time, making sure she and his baby were always safe.

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry

[cool-fancier]

A Runway To Remember

Synopsis: A renowned fashion designer's romance with a K-pop fashion icon blossoms amid Parisian glamour, culminating in a breathtaking runway debut and promising future together.

Word count:1.3K

The world knew you as a famous fashion designer, a visionary behind the most coveted brand of the modern era. Your designs graced the covers of high-end magazines and adorned the elite. Yet, amidst the glamour and glitz, the most unexpected revelation was your relationship with Jennie Kim, the idol turned fashion icon. When the news broke, fans were ecstatic, their support only bolstering the love you shared.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you and Jennie were nestled on the couch in your Parisian apartment, basking in each other's presence. The city of love seemed even more enchanting with her by your side.

"Can you believe it's been six months since we went public?" you mused, twirling a strand of Jennie's hair around your finger.

Jennie smiled, her eyes sparkling with affection. "Time flies when you're happy, doesn't it?"

You nodded, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I have something I want to ask you, Jen."

"Oh? What is it?" Jennie turned to face you, curiosity piqued.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding with excitement and a hint of nervousness. "How would you feel about walking the runway for my Spring 25 line?"

Jennie's eyes widened in surprise. "Me? Walk the runway?"

You nodded eagerly. "Yes, you. I know it's a lot to ask, but you embody everything my brand stands for—grace, elegance, strength. It would mean the world to me."

Jennie hesitated, biting her lower lip. "I don't know... I've never done a runway show before."

"I understand, but I believe in you. You have the presence and the poise. And I'll be right there with you, every step of the way," you assured her, taking her hands in yours.

Jennie looked into your eyes, seeing the sincerity and love. She sighed, a small smile forming on her lips. "Okay, I'll do it. For you."

You let out a whoop of joy, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Thank you, thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me."

The days leading up to the show were a whirlwind of preparations. You were meticulously designing and overseeing every detail of the collection, while Jennie practiced her runway walk with determination. The anticipation grew, and the fashion world buzzed with speculation about what surprises your show would hold.

— — — — — —

On the morning of the show, you found Jennie in the dressing room, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She wore a stunning ensemble—a purple gown, flowing and elegant, with intricate lace detailing that shimmered under the lights. Paired with strappy heels that accentuated her long legs, her hair styled in loose waves and flawless makeup, Jennie looked every bit the fashion icon.

"You look perfect," you whispered, wrapping your arms around her from behind and resting your chin on her shoulder.

Jennie blushed, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. "You're just saying that because you're biased."

"No, I'm saying it because it's true," you insisted, turning her around to face you. "You are stunning, and you are going to wow everyone out there."

Jennie smiled, her nerves easing slightly. "Thank you. I just want to make you proud."

"You already do, every day," you said, leaning in to give her a good luck kiss.

Jennie giggled, gently pushing you away. "You're messing up my lipstick!"

The staff around you chuckled at the cute exchange, the room filled with warmth and affection. You watched as Jennie took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and preparing herself for the spotlight.

— — — — — —

The venue was packed, the audience buzzing with anticipation. As the lights dimmed and the music began, models started to strut down the runway, showcasing your latest creations. Each piece was a testament to your skill and creativity, but the highlight of the evening was yet to come.

When Jennie stepped onto the runway, the crowd erupted in applause. She walked with confidence and grace, every step exuding elegance. Halfway down the runway, Jennie paused for a moment, striking a pose that showcased the dress's intricate details. You couldn't help but beam with pride at her confidence and beauty.

Seeing her pause, you couldn't resist. Ignoring your usual reservations about public displays of affection, you hurried up to meet her. Leaning in close, you congratulated her with a kiss on the cheek, a brief moment of intimacy that spoke volumes about your love.

The audience cheered even louder at the sight, thrilled to see you both together. Jennie smiled at you gratefully before continuing her walk to the end of the runway, where she gracefully turned and walked back, capturing every eye in the room.

As she returned backstage, Jennie was greeted by her managers, Allison and Hhuit, who were both grinning mischievously.

"Caught in the act, huh?" Allison teased, showing you a playful wink.

You laughed, a bit embarrassed but unable to wipe the smile off your face. "I couldn't help myself. She looked incredible out there."

"She did," Hhuit agreed, snapping a quick photo of you two. "You make quite the power couple."

— — — — — —

The success of the show was celebrated that night at the after party, with friends, colleagues, and well-wishers sharing their congratulations. Amidst the festivities, you found a quiet moment together, standing on the balcony and gazing at the twinkling lights of Paris.

"Thank you for believing in me," Jennie said softly, resting her head on your shoulder.

"Thank you for trusting me," you replied, kissing the top of her head. "This is just the beginning, Jen. With you by my side, there's nothing we can't achieve."

As you held her close, the city's lights reflected in her eyes, shimmering like stars. Below, the sounds of laughter and music mingled with the soft murmur of the Seine flowing nearby. It was a moment of peace and accomplishment, a rare pause in the whirlwind of your lives.

"You know," Jennie began, breaking the silence, "I never imagined I'd find myself walking a runway in Paris, let alone for someone I love."

You chuckled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Life has a funny way of surprising us, doesn't it?"

"It does," she agreed, smiling up at you. "But I'm grateful for every moment, especially the ones like this."

The night stretched on, filled with shared stories and laughter, as friends and colleagues toasted to your success. Among them were Allison and Hhuit, who continued to tease good-naturedly whenever they caught you stealing glances at each other.

"You two are like something out of a fairy tale," Allison remarked, raising her glass.

Hhuit nodded, a playful smirk on his face. "The power couple of fashion and music, taking over the world."

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a surge of pride not just in your own accomplishments, but in the strength and beauty of the relationship you and Jennie shared. Each glance, each touch, spoke of a partnership built on mutual respect, admiration, and above all, love.

As the night wound down and guests began to bid their farewells, you and Jennie found yourselves once again alone on the balcony. The air was cool, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of spring blossoms.

"Today was unforgettable," Jennie murmured, leaning against the railing beside you.

"It was," you agreed, wrapping an arm around her waist. "And it's only the beginning."

Jennie turned to face you, her gaze unwavering. "I'm excited for our future, for all the adventures we'll have together."

"Me too," you whispered, leaning in to capture her lips in a tender kiss. It was a moment of quiet intimacy amidst the grandeur of the night, a promise of more moments like this to come.

As you held each other close, the lights of Paris continued to twinkle around you, a backdrop to the beginning of a new chapter in both your lives. Together, you knew, there was nothing you couldn't achieve.

[the-boy-meets-evil]

all i want for christmas - xmh (the8)

(where you want minghao for secret santa so you can prove he's not really that hard to buy something for.)

pairing: minghao (the8) x gn!reader genre: friends to lovers | fluff rating: sfw (but i still don't want minors interacting) word count: ~1.8k warnings: none, really. this is just fluff and a secret santa exchange. no pronouns used for reader.

a/n: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays. day 14 - secret santa 💕 i'm also counting this as a drabble.

“Are you sure you want to trade for him?” Mingyu asks, eyeing you suspiciously.

“For the last time, yes,” you huff out. 

Are you actually sure? No. But, this plan has to work. Every year you and your whole friend group draw names for Secret Santa. This year, you were really hoping to get Minghao. For a lot of reasons you’re not trying to share with Mingyu. Thankfully, he’s terrible at keeping secrets from you and had instantly whined about getting the hardest friend. He’s relieved you want to trade, even if he’s also a little suspicious. Not suspicious enough to hold onto the most difficult person to buy for, though. 

“Your funeral,” he says with a shrug. “Who’d you have again?” 

“Seulgi,” you remind him.

“Oh that’s so easy. She leaves notes about what she wants everywhere,” he says, satisfaction plain on his face. 

“So does Minghao, if you know where to look,” you add, keeping it a little vague.

“If you so say,” he says.

Mingyu’s not suspicious enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. Literally. Minghao is famous in your friend group for being difficult to buy presents for. Famous for not even pretending to like a present. You wonder how many presents he’s taken back in exchange for something that he wants more. Which does make the whole thing a little more daunting, especially because you’re not supposed to spend over a certain amount. That’s the whole premise of doing a Secret Santa with your friends. It’s so that you don’t have to go broke buying presents because you have a lot of friends. Of course, you’re all older now than when you started as broke university students. Still, it’s nice to hold onto the tradition. 

Now that you’ve switched, you’re nervous. Everything in your plan got you to the point of switching (and kind of how to pull off the perfect gift within your budget). You haven’t considered what he’ll say or what you’re going to say to him. Or if you’re even going to admit what you went through to make sure you had him in the exchange. You know you should just rip the band-aid off. Easier said than done, though.

The reality is that you want to be the one to give Minghao a present for a lot of reasons. You want to be able to get him something he’ll actually like. To show him that you listen to him and you know him. To show him that he’s not actually that bad to buy for, because you can tell it gets to him sometimes. That he thinks he’s just difficult, which he definitely is, but there’s more to him than that. There’s also the biggest reason you wanted to pull his name. That you have a giant crush on him. One you’re shocked he hasn’t picked up on and just as shocked other friends haven’t seemed to pick up on, either. Well, except for Seulgi. Then again, she never misses a beat. It’s useful that she knows, too, since you’re planning to ask her for help in securing the perfect gift. 

(Seulgi comes through, like the actual best friend in the world, with a killer discount on a beautiful designer scarf. Minghao hasn’t eyed that exact one, but you think you know him well enough to know that it’s still something he’ll like. It fits seamlessly into his style and it’s the kind of thing you can easily see him buying for himself. True to her word and the plan, Seulgi set aside several pieces that were returned because the brand had really weird rules about reselling things that left the store. They take returns because of the goodwill with customers, but never resell the items even close to full price.) 

When it comes time to actually exchange gifts, you’re a little nervous again. Didn’t think it through that you do this as a group, so everyone will see what everyone else got. Including the care put into your present for Minghao and the obvious, at least to you, significance. As if sensing your nerves, Seulgi shoots you a warm smile, then directs you to take a couple breaths. 

“I get to open my present first, right?” Soonyoung calls out. He’s already looking through the presents on the table. 

“You go first every year,” Seungcheol points out. 

“Right, so it’s tradition,” Soonyoung agrees. 

“Or maybe someone else could go…” Seungcheol starts. 

“Got it!” Soonyoung calls. 

“Just let him have it,” Seulgi laughs out.

As it turns out, she had him and got him a silly tiger plush and also a ticket to go to a drive through safari experience where they had tigers. Unsurprisingly, it’s a strong start and Soonyoung is thrilled. Seulgi opens her present next and it carries on just as well. It seems that everyone likes their presents, at least so far. Though, someone makes a joke that Minghao hasn’t gotten his yet. You’re still deep in thought and worry when you finally realize that your friends are trying to get your attention. It seems like it’s your turn to go next. Still somewhat lost in thought, you find your present. It’s easier because there aren’t many left and one of them is the one you bought. 

The second you open your present, it’s all you can think about. It’s a beautifully decorated scrapbook, so carefully put together that it almost makes you want to tear up. You start flipping through the pages and it’s like walking through all your favorite memories with your closest friends. The road trips and the sporting events. Concerts and beach days. Bonfires and drunken parties. A complete catalog of your best memories, without you even having to tell whoever made it. Each page is uniquely decorated without it being overdone. As you’re flipping through each page, you notice that there’s one person in more pictures than anyone else. Minghao. Is it that obvious to whoever made this that you have feelings for him? 

“I hope you like it,” Minghao says and he actually sounds nervous.

You look up at him, surprised. “You did this?” 

“Yeah, I realized after I wrapped it that I forgot to include a card,” he admits. 

“This is honestly the best gift I’ve ever gotten, thank you,” you say sincerely.

Seungcheol breaks the moment with a laugh. “Looks like you’re up next, Hao.”

“Right, yeah,” Minghao says. He clears his throat as he stands up. 

It’s a little hard for you to figure out where to look. You’re so enamored with the present you got from Minghao that you want to keep looking through it and appreciating the little details he put in. You find yourself aimlessly running your fingers over the pages. But, you also want to know what he thinks of your present. The real reaction as he opens it. Which does win out as he sits back down with his present on his lap. He’s careful as he unwraps it, almost like he’s preparing for whatever is inside. Over the years, he’s definitely been a little better about reacting to presents. Maybe he’s worried this will be another present like that. You know watching his reaction was absolutely the right choice when his eyes go wide and his mouth opens a little in shock. His fingers run over the fabric carefully before he reaches for the card. The smile when he reads the card is so genuine that your heart melts into a puddle. Maybe it’s more than a crush.

“I don’t know how you did this and stayed under budget, but thank you,” Minghao says with more emotion than you’re expecting. 

“Hey, yeah, that’s a foul! You can’t go over our budget just to get him something he wants,” Mingyu argues. 

“It wasn’t over budget, I sold the scarf. I have the receipt still,” Seulgi says.

“That’s even worse!” Mingyu argues with a pout.

“You’re just mad that someone finally got Minghao the perfect present,” Seungcheol teases. 

“I hate it here,” Mingyu says.

The conversation turns back to the remaining presents. Nobody really seems to have another comment on the moment that passed between you and Minghao over the presents. Neither of you has ever gotten the other for Secret Santa like this and it’s gone much differently than you expected. Instead of feeling nervous, you’re feeling a little hopeful. At least if your present is anything to go off. Minghao’s never put this much effort into a present. Not that you can remember, at least. Maybe, you’re not trying to get ahead of yourself, but maybe he feels a little something more for you as well. 

You’re a pretty disengaged from the conversation, especially once everyone finishes opening their presents and things turn to what movie to watch. Instead, you head into the kitchen to get someone to drink, missing the way Minghao’s eyes follow your movement. A little surprised when he appears in the kitchen with you.

“Thank you again,” he says quietly. It still makes you jump a bit. 

“Oh!” you gasp. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad you liked it. I know it’s kind of simple.”

“No, it’s perfect,” Minghao disagrees. “How did you manage?” 

“I told Seulgi that I had you and roughly what I wanted, so she set aside some returns. Only ones that came back immediately and clearly hadn’t been worn,” you rush out. 

Minghao’s touch on your arm is gentle, instantly calming. “I’m so thankful you got me.” 

“Me too,” you agree. “Well, I didn’t, actually. I traded with Mingyu.” 

“You did?” Minghao asks, seeming surprised but also pleased.

“Yeah, I wanted to get you something,” you say.

“I did, too,” he answers softly. “But, I was lucky enough to just draw your name.”

“Your present was amazing. I meant it, it’s one of the best I’ve ever gotten,” you whisper.

“It’s what you deserve. I know I didn’t spend much,” Minghao starts. 

“No, it’s everything. I can’t imagine how much time you must’ve put into this. I’m not sure anyone’s ever done anything so thoughtful for me,” you assure him, eyes soft on his. 

“You deserve only thoughtful things,” he tells you. 

“You, too,” is all you can say.

“Do you think, well, would it be weird if we got dinner sometime?” he asks and you can’t hide the shock. 

“Let’s go, you two!” Seungcheol calls.

“Like a date?” you ask, unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“Forget it, it’s weird,” he backtracks. When he starts to leave, you grab his arm.

“Yeah, I’d love to, but only if it’s actually a date,” you tell him. If you thought the smile over his present was big, this is infinitely bigger. 

“How about right now?” he presses.

“I don’t have anywhere else to be,” you agree. 

“Then, let’s go,” he says, hand held out for you.

And you take it. It’s one of the easiest decisions you’ve ever made. You didn’t even have to tell him that you’d been thinking of asking him the same thing. The holidays truly can be so magical.

i hope you liked it! please let me know your thoughts or give it a reblog if you enjoyed it 💕

[edenesth]

In Pursuit of Serendipity

Pairing: best friend!Hyunjin x fem!reader

AU: high school au

Word Count: 14.8k

Summary: Your friendship is tested when Hyunjin starts crushing on his new classmate. What you didn't expect was that your own emotions would come into play. Denying your feelings, you decide to be the ultimate wingwoman, helping him while battling your own heartache in silence. Will the pursuit of love lead to happiness or heartbreak?

A/N: Lowkey inspired by the Mixtape: On Track music video, still one of my favourite MVs from SKZ.

MAIN MASTERLIST

The busy hallways of your high school were alive with the energy of students rushing to their next classes.

Amidst the sea of students, you made your way through the crowded corridors with an excitement that bubbled within you. The reason for your enthusiasm swung in your hand—a gaming magazine had just revealed the release date of the highly anticipated video game you'd been eagerly awaiting.

Hyunjin and Felix, your partners in crime since kindergarten, were waiting for you.

As you neared your usual meeting spot, a sudden obstacle appeared in the form of an unnoticed puddle. Before you could react, your foot lost its grip, sending you careening toward an embarrassing collision with the cold, tiled floor. In a split second, strong arms wrapped around you, breaking your fall.

"Whoa there! Quick reflexes, Hyunjin style." Hyunjin exclaimed, his grin showcasing his pride at the successful save.

Felix laughed heartily, "Nice dive! You should consider joining the school's gymnastics team, though I hear their routine doesn't involve slipping in the hallways."

You shot him a playful glare as he approached to make sure you were unharmed, "Thanks, Jinnie. And you," You said, turning to Felix, "Can save your sarcasm for someone else."

Felix chuckled, brushing off imaginary dirt from your shoulder, "Just making sure you're in one piece. You know, you should work on your gracefulness. It's not very lady-like to trip and fall."

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "Oh, please. Who needs grace when you've got Hyunjin's superhero reflexes? And besides, I'm not planning to win any 'Miss Graceful' contests."

Hyunjin grinned, leaning against the row of lockers, "True that. But you might want to consider it. You'll never find a boyfriend if you keep stumbling around like a bull in a china shop."

You scoffed, the idea of conforming to societal expectations not even registering on your radar, "Who said I'm looking for a boyfriend anyway? I'm perfectly content with my PS5 and the upcoming release of Assassin's Creed. Relationships can wait."

Felix raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with Hyunjin, "Famous last words. We'll see how long that sentiment lasts."

You brushed off their teasing with a nonchalant wave, determined to keep your priorities in check. As the three of you continued down the hallway, you couldn't help smiling at the thought of the virtual adventures awaiting you in the upcoming game—an escape from the typical high school drama and the perfect reminder that, for now, you were content marching to the beat of your own, unapologetically clumsy, drum.

After grabbing a light breakfast together from the school cafeteria, you, Hyunjin, and Felix made your way through the bustling hallways, weaving through the student traffic. Despite being part of different classes, your morning ritual of meeting up for breakfast had become a comforting constant.

As you reached the fork in the hallway leading to your respective classrooms, Felix grinned, "See you guys at lunch. Don't trip over your own feet without me around to catch you!"

You playfully nudged him, "I'll try my best, Captain Obvious."

Felix waved, disappearing into his classroom, leaving you and Hyunjin to continue down the corridor. Although your class was situated at the far end of the school, you were used to the daily trek. Hyunjin, however, insisted on walking you there, despite the inconvenience it posed for him.

"Why do you bother walking me all the way to my class, Jinnie?" You asked, your voice tinged with amusement as you walked side by side.

He shot you a teasing grin, "Well, for one, I don't trust your coordination skills without Felix or me around. And secondly, what if there's a stampede, or a meteor falls from the sky? I need to be sure you make it to class in one piece."

You scoffed, "A stampede? Really?"

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, adopting a mock-serious tone, "You never know. High school can be a dangerous place."

You rolled your eyes, but a smile lingered on your lips. It was moments like these that reminded you of the unique bond you shared with your friends. Despite the exaggeration, there was a genuine concern in his eyes that touched your heart.

Nearing the entrance of your classroom, you stopped, "You really don't have to do this every day, you know. I can handle walking to class without tripping."

Hyunjin leaned against the wall, his expression softening, "I know you can, but I want to. Call it my daily act of heroism."

You chuckled, shaking your head, "Fine, you overprotective hero. Thanks for the escort to class."

He grinned, walking you right up to the door, "Anytime, damsel in distress. I'll see you at lunch, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest at the genuine care your friends showered upon you, "Okay. Don't save too many people on your way to class."

With a playful salute, Hyunjin turned to make his way to his own classroom. You watched him go, appreciating the small gestures that defined your friendship. As the classroom door closes behind you, you feel a sense of gratitude for the protective duo that made your high school journey more adventurous and, most importantly, full of genuine companionship.

Later that day, the cafeteria buzzed with the usual lunchtime chaos as you approached your designated spot between Hyunjin and Felix, your tray already waiting for you. Your heart warmed at the sight, and you skipped over with an infectious beam.

Felix, always quick with banter, smirked at you, "Look who decided to grace us with her presence. You missed the riveting conversation about Hyunjin's newfound muse."

Your eyes flickered to Hyunjin, whose cheeks sported a subtle shade of pink. Felix couldn't resist the opportunity to tease, "He wouldn't shut up about her just before you arrived."

You slid into your seat, the playful glint in Felix's eyes not escaping you, "Oh, really? What did I miss?"

Felix leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "Our dear friend Hyunjin here has developed a massive crush on the new girl in his class. Couldn't stop talking about her smile, her laugh, you know, the works."

Hyunjin shot Felix a mock glare, but his eyes twinkled with an undeniable excitement, "Felix is exaggerating, as usual. I just mentioned her once or twice."

The three of you were engrossed in the conversation when, like clockwork, the cafeteria doors swung open. Hyunjin's head snapped up, his gaze fixating on a girl who entered with an effortless grace. She was undeniably beautiful—Lia, the new girl who had captured your friend's attention.

"There she is." Hyunjin whispered, as if afraid the mere mention of her name would make her disappear. Lia glided through the cafeteria, a radiant presence that drew the attention of many. You couldn't deny the allure; she had an undeniable charm that seemed to captivate everyone in her vicinity.

While Felix seemed excited for Hyunjin, you couldn't shake off the inexplicable discomfort settling in the pit of your stomach. You smiled, or at least you tried to, but it felt forced.

As Lia joined a group of students at a nearby table, laughter and animated conversations surrounding her, you couldn't help but wonder why the idea of Hyunjin being enamoured by her left you feeling strangely uneasy.

Oblivious to the atmosphere shift, Felix continued to prod Hyunjin about Lia. But as your eyes met Hyunjin's, you sensed a vulnerability beneath his excitement—a vulnerability you hadn't seen before. The unspoken truth lingered in the air, and you couldn't escape the realisation that your heart seemed to protest against the prospect of him falling for someone else for reasons you couldn't quite comprehend.

In the following days, you found yourself caught in a web of conflicting emotions. You tried to rationalise the unease that had settled within you, convincing yourself that it was merely a consequence of your friends growing up. After all, it was only natural for them to develop romantic interests outside your tight-knit trio.

You repeated the logic like a mantra, assuring yourself that this discomfort was nothing more than an adjustment period.

"It's just new," You told yourself, stirring your food absentmindedly during lunch. Felix continued his good-natured teasing about Hyunjin's infatuation with Lia, blissfully unaware of the internal struggle you were facing, "They're growing up, finding other people. It's normal. You'll get used to it."

Yet, as days turned into weeks, the knot in your stomach refused to loosen. You grappled with the notion that the dynamics of your friendship were shifting, and it wasn't centred solely around the three of you anymore. The idea of someone else occupying Hyunjin's thoughts in a way you hadn't witnessed before tugged at a thread of discomfort deep within you.

"It's just silly jealousy," You scolded yourself in the quiet moments of introspection, "He's my friend, and I should be happy for him."

Deep down, you couldn't ignore the hope that Hyunjin's crush was just a passing phase—a temporary diversion that would fade with time. You yearned for the days when your trio's world revolved around shared laughter and inside jokes, not about some new girl that caught your friend's attention.

One day, as you all gathered for lunch as usual, Felix couldn't resist poking at Hyunjin once again, "Come on, Jinnie, just admit it. You're head over heels for Lia."

Hyunjin sighed, his cheeks tinged with a mixture of embarrassment and genuine affection, "Fine. I like her, okay? Happy now?"

Felix's victorious grin was matched only by the subtle tightening of your chest. You forced a smile, attempting to mask the twinge of disappointment.

As the conversation continued, Hyunjin's genuine excitement about Lia became increasingly evident. Felix's teasing took on a more playful tone, but every word seemed to emphasise the growing reality that your friend was genuinely interested in someone beyond the confines of your trio.

Each day that passed, Hyunjin's interest in Lia became a constant presence in your lives. While he physically joined you and Felix for breakfast and lunch, his mind seemed to linger elsewhere. Conversations that were once filled with silly jokes now revolved around Lia—her interests, her quirks, and every mundane detail that seemed to captivate Hyunjin's attention.

The unintentional distance you felt from Hyunjin left you perplexed and, admittedly, frustrated. Despite your attempts to rationalise these emotions, a growing sense of unease settled within you. It was as if the equilibrium of your friendship had been disrupted, leaving you feeling somewhat adrift.

One day, after Hyunjin had passionately detailed yet another encounter with Lia during lunch, you found yourself unable to contain the frustration any longer.

In the quiet corner of the school courtyard, away from prying eyes and curious ears, you decided to confide in Felix. As you sat on the familiar park bench, the one where countless secrets had been shared among the three of you, you hesitated before finally breaking the silence.

"Lix, I don't know what's going on. I mean, I should be happy for Hyunjin, right? But every time he talks about Lia, it's like... I don't know, something's off. It's like he's here with us physically, but his mind is somewhere else."

Felix regarded you with a knowing gaze, the crinkles in his eyes softened with understanding, "Feelings are complicated. It's okay to feel the way you do. Maybe it's just an adjustment period. Things will settle down."

You sighed, grateful for his calm demeanour, "I've tried telling myself that, but it doesn't seem to be getting any better. It's just frustrating. I miss the way things used to be."

Felix leaned in, his tone gentle, "Change is hard, especially when it comes to friendships. But maybe Hyunjin needs this. Maybe it's his time to explore something beyond our trio. And who knows, it might just be a phase. People get caught up in new crushes, but that doesn't mean they forget their old friends."

You nodded, appreciating his perspective, "I just wish I could understand why I feel this way. It's like... I'm happy for him, but there's this nagging discomfort that won't go away."

Felix placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "Give it time. Sometimes, feelings need time to catch up with logic. And in the meantime, know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

In the days that followed, you made a conscious effort to follow Felix's advice. You reminded yourself that Hyunjin's sudden obsession with Lia was his first experience with romantic feelings, and it was only natural for him to be caught up in the excitement of it all.

Trying to be understanding, you even forced a smile when he recounted every interaction with Lia, assuring yourself that this phase would pass.

But just as you began to convince yourself that you had your emotions in check, things took an unexpected turn. Hyunjin, who had always insisted on walking you to class, suddenly approached you with an apologetic expression.

"Hey, listen, I'm sorry, but I can't walk you to class anymore." He admitted, avoiding eye contact.

The unexpected blow left you momentarily speechless, "What? Why?"

Hyunjin sighed, looking genuinely conflicted, "It's just... I don't want Lia to misunderstand our relationship. I mean, she might think there's something more between us, you know?"

Your initial shock gave way to a slow-burning frustration. While you wanted to be supportive of his budding romance, the abrupt change felt like a direct hit to the heart. The walks to class, once a cherished routine, now seemed like a relic of a time when your friendship hadn't been overshadowed by romantic entanglements.

Forcing a tight smile, you responded, "Sure, Hyunjin. Do whatever makes you comfortable."

As he walked away, leaving you standing alone in the hallway, you felt a sense of abandonment. The once-predictable rhythms of your friendship were now distorted, and the realisation that you were no longer a priority stung more than you cared to admit.

Felix, perceptive as ever, noticed the change in your demeanour. As he joined you in the hallway, he raised an eyebrow, "What's up with Hyunjin? I thought he was going to walk you to class."

You sighed, the weight of unspoken emotions heavy on your shoulders, "He said he can't anymore. Doesn't want Lia to get the wrong idea about us."

Felix's expression shifted from curiosity to a mixture of understanding and concern, "I know this is tough, but maybe he's just caught up in the excitement of his first crush. It doesn't mean he values your friendship any less."

You nodded, acknowledging his attempt to console you, "I get that, but it still hurts, you know? It's like our friendship is being redefined, and I don't know where I fit in anymore."

Felix offered a sympathetic smile, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "Give it time. I'm sure things will settle down eventually. And in the meantime, you've got me. We'll figure it out together."

As Hyunjin's infatuation with Lia intensified, you found yourself grappling with the remnants of the once-familiar routine that now seemed like a distant memory.

One afternoon, as the final school bell echoed through the hallways, you made your way to the usual meeting spot where you and Hyunjin would walk home together. However, your anticipation gave way to disappointment as you saw him engrossed in conversation with Lia, the two of them making plans to spend time together after school.

Felix, who had been watching your expression closely, slung an arm around your shoulder, "Hey, don't let it get to you. You know, it's okay to feel upset."

"I'm not upset." You retorted, but the hurt in your eyes betrayed your attempt at nonchalance.

Felix raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips, "You can't fool me, idiot. It's written all over your face. You miss your walks home with him, don't you?"

You sighed, giving in to the acknowledgement of your feelings, "Yeah, I guess I do. It's stupid, though. Friends hang out with other people. It's not a big deal."

Felix squeezed your shoulder gently, "It's okay to feel this way, you know. And there's nothing 'stupid' about it. You're allowed to miss your friend."

As you walked home with Felix that day, the silence between you spoke volumes. The absence of Hyunjin, once a comforting presence by your side, left a void that seemed to echo with the uncertainty of changing friendships.

The following days only deepened the ache.

Your attempts to be the supportive friend, cheering Hyunjin on as he pursued Lia, felt increasingly like a façade. The more you tried to suppress your feelings, the more they seemed to claw at the edges of your consciousness.

It was during one of your late-night conversations with Felix, the dim glow of streetlights casting shadows on your faces, that he broached the subject with a keen intuition that caught you off guard.

"You know," Felix said, his gaze fixed on the stars above, "It's possible you're jealous because you have feelings for Hyunjin."

Your immediate reaction was a vehement denial. How could you harbour romantic feelings for your childhood friend, especially when you had always prided yourself on being the voice of reason within the trio?

Oh hell nah, ain't no freaking way.

But as Felix turned to look at you, his eyes filled with understanding, you felt a sudden vulnerability. Despite your initial resistance, you couldn't escape the possibility that he was right. Your feelings for Hyunjin might indeed transcend the boundaries of friendship.

"What? Are you hearing yourself, Lix? That's insane!" You laughed incredulously, dismissing his implication with a wave of your hand. The idea of having romantic feelings for Hyunjin seemed preposterous to you, and you were determined to push aside any inkling of such emotions.

Felix, however, frowned at your attempt to brush off the subject. He could sense the unease beneath your laughter, the subtle deflection in your words, "I know you better than you think. You can't deny what you're feeling."

You scoffed, refusing to let his words penetrate your resolve, "Me? Having feelings for Hwang Hyunjin? Did you hit your head or something?" You chuckled, playing off the notion as absurd.

But as you met Felix's serious expression, you recognised the gravity of the situation. He was about to talk some sense into you, to unravel the emotions you had been desperately trying to suppress. But before he could utter a word, you beat him to it.

"Just watch me, Lix. I'll prove you wrong." Your tone carried a determined edge, a promise to yourself that you could navigate these confusing emotions without succumbing to what seemed like an inconvenient truth.

Felix sighed heavily, realising that there was little he could do if you were determined to turn a blind eye to your own feelings. He knew that sometimes, facing the truth required a vulnerability that not everyone was ready to embrace.

As you gathered for your breakfast routine one morning, Hyunjin began his usual recounting of Lia's latest escapades, and you found yourself unable to bear it any longer.

"Hyunjin," You interrupted, the words escaping before you could reconsider, "I'm sick of seeing you pine after Lia. It's distracting, and I can't focus on anything else. So, I've decided to help you win her heart."

Ecstasy washed over his face, "Really? You'd help me?"

You nodded, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, "Yeah, I mean, why not? You deserve to be happy, right?"

Hyunjin's eyes lit up, and he immediately pulled you into a tight hug, "Thank you! You're the best! I'll buy you the next Assassin's Creed game when Lia agrees to be my girlfriend!"

As he cheered, Felix observed the scene with a mixture of disbelief and realisation. It dawned on him that your seemingly selfless act of playing matchmaker wasn't entirely altruistic. A smirk played on his lips as he shook his head, understanding the true motive behind your plan.

"So, this was your way of proving me wrong, huh?" Felix remarked, his voice carrying a note of amusement.

You avoided his gaze, the charade now exposed, "I just want him to be happy. That's all."

Felix chuckled, seeing through the act, "Sure. Just remember, you can't run from your feelings forever."

Later that evening, you walked home with Hyunjin for the first time in what felt like ages. But the reason behind his company left a bitter taste in your mouth. It wasn't because he missed your walks or longed for the friendship you once shared. No, the only reason was to strategise about his mission to win Lia's heart.

As you strolled down the sidewalk, Hyunjin excitedly started talking about his plan, "So, I was thinking maybe I should join some clubs or events that she's interested in. What do you think?"

You pushed all unnecessary thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand, "Sure, that sounds like a good idea. We need to figure out what she likes and find a way for you to connect with her."

The mention of 'we' felt strangely out of place, a reminder of the changed dynamics between you and Hyunjin. Nevertheless, you pushed those feelings aside, determined to help your friend succeed in his pursuit of happiness.

Felix, who had been watching the interaction with an amused smirk, couldn't resist commenting, "Look at you two, planning Hyunjin's love story. Who would've thought?"

You shot him a glare, not appreciating the smugness in his tone, "This is for Hyunjin, Lix, not for your amusement."

Felix raised his hands defensively, "Alright, alright. I'm just enjoying the show."

As you neared your doorstep, you took a deep breath, ready to lay out a rough plan for Hyunjin, "Okay, here's what we're going to do. First, we need to find out more about Lia's hobbies and interests. Once we have that information, we can create opportunities for you to interact with her in a more meaningful way."

Hyunjin nodded eagerly, trusting you with the details of his mission, "Leave it all to you. You're the best."

As you arrived at your doorstep, Hyunjin gave you a thankful hug before skipping off to his home just a few blocks away. Sighing deeply, you feel a twinge of emptiness. The hug felt different, less like a shared moment between friends and more like a transaction—gratitude for a service rendered.

With renewed determination, you wasted no time. The moment you stepped inside your room, you pulled out your phone and began stalking all of Lia's social media accounts. Your mission was clear: decipher her likes, dislikes, and everything in between.

Little did you know that this quest, seemingly straightforward, would lead you down a path of self-discovery and unexpected twists, challenging the boundaries of friendship and forcing you to confront emotions you had long been trying to ignore.

As the days unfolded, you immersed yourself in the role of the ultimate wingman. Your efforts to assist Hyunjin in winning Lia's heart were meticulous, each action carefully calculated to showcase his best qualities. Despite the outward display of support, a quiet turmoil brewed within you, a storm of conflicting emotions that threatened to break through the carefully constructed façade.

In your quest to prove Felix wrong, you inadvertently delved deeper into the complexities of your own heart. The more you tried to suppress the whispers of your own feelings, the more they seemed to echo in the quiet moments of self-reflection.

As Felix watched you navigate this internal struggle, he wished you would just confront the truth instead of burying it beneath the guise of friendship.

With your careful planning and Hyunjin's sincere efforts, you watched as he began to get things right. He made it a point to learn about Lia's favourite snacks and beverages, surprising her with thoughtful treats that garnered appreciative smiles. Conversations shifted from superficial exchanges to discussions about her favourite pastime activities, creating a connection that seemed to grow with every shared moment.

You watched from afar as he transformed himself, aligning with the qualities he knew she admired. He became more attentive, more considerate, and tailored his actions to better appeal to the type of guys she was attracted to.

While the genuine nature of his intentions was evident, each successful move felt like another layer of separation between the Hyunjin you knew and the person he was becoming for Lia.

Then came the pivotal moment.

Fueled by newfound confidence, he approached Lia and managed to ask her out on a date. From the way he pumped his fists in the air in victory, it was clear that she said yes. As he turned around to look for you, a beaming smile on his face, he spotted you observing the scene. With a thumbs up and eyes filled with excitement, he acknowledged your silent support.

Despite the clenching in your heart, you smiled back and clapped, showing him that you were genuinely happy for his success. The internal conflict between your desire to see your friend happy and the undeniable twinge of discomfort lingered in the background.

It was a bittersweet moment, a celebration of his triumph in love, overshadowed by the realisation that the dynamics of your friendship had undergone a significant shift.

During lunch, the three of you gathered as usual, but the atmosphere was tinged with an unspoken tension. As you sat with your tray, Felix shot you a look, his expression a mix of disapproval and concern. You avoided his eyes, focusing on your food and pretending not to notice his silent judgment.

The news of Hyunjin and Lia's upcoming first date buzzed around the table, and despite the apparent excitement, Felix's gaze lingered on you. He wished you knew that he was only trying to protect you, a silent plea echoing in his eyes. Deep down, he feared that all this effort might lead to you getting hurt in the end.

As the conversation flowed, Felix couldn't contain his disapproval any longer, "So, playing matchmaker seems to be working well for you and Hyunjin." He remarked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

You glanced up, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before averting your gaze, "Yeah, I guess it is."

Felix sighed, the concern etched on his face, "I hope you know what you're doing. Playing with emotions is a risky game."

You could sense the genuine worry in his words, but a stubborn determination held you captive. You knew there was a risk involved, but you've already come this far. It was as if a self-imposed obligation drove you to see this through until the end, no matter the consequences.

As the lunch bell rang, signalling the end of the break, Felix shot you one last look—a mix of caution and understanding. The unspoken conversation between you two lingered in the air, a silent acknowledgement of the uncertainties that lay ahead.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself for what was to come. The journey you embarked upon had no clear destination, but one thing was certain: you're committed to helping Hyunjin until the end.

As the final bell rang, signalling the end of the school day, you gathered your belongings, preparing to head home. Just as you were about to make your way through the crowded hallway, Hyunjin rushed up to you, grabbing your wrist in his haste. Startled, he twisted you around, and for a brief moment, your eyes rounded at the close proximity between your faces.

His eyes widened in realisation, and he immediately stepped back, stammering, "S-sorry, I was just—"

You shook your head, feigning nonchalance despite the racing of your heart, "It's fine, what is it?"

Hyunjin beamed at your question, his initial awkwardness dissipating, "I need your help in picking an outfit for my date this weekend."

You ignored the sharp stab you felt in your heart at the cruel reminder. Suppressing your emotions, you nodded, "Of course, I'll send you some ideas tonight."

But he shook his head, a hopeful glint in his eyes, "No, I was hoping you could come over before the date and help me put together something nice...?"

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected request, "Why not get Felix to help you with that?"

Hyunjin pouted, swinging your arm around playfully, "Oh, come on, you're the one who promised to help me until the end, right?"

Sighing, you realised he was right. It was your commitment, not Felix's. Relenting, you nodded, "Alright, fine. Sheesh. I'll see you then."

Hyunjin cheered, thanking you profusely before running off, presumably heading to spend time with Lia. As he disappeared into the crowd, you couldn't shake off the lingering discomfort that settled in your chest.

Hang in there, you can do this.

Standing in front of the mirror, you scrutinised yourself for the umpteenth time before questioning your actions. Why did it matter how you looked to Hyunjin? After all, you'd literally grown up together, and he'd seen you at your best and worst. The reflection staring back at you seemed to mock the unnecessary anxiety that had settled in.

The sound of your phone's notifications going off snapped you out of your thoughts. Unlocking the device, you found texts from both Hyunjin and Felix. Hyunjin's message was playful, urging you to hurry over, 'Bestie, get your ass over here already!!!😭'

Felix's text, however, carried a different tone, one of understanding and support, 'Hyunjin told me you're going over to help him. I know nothing I say can change your mind, but I just want you to know that no matter what happens, I'll be here for you.'

Reading Felix's words nearly brought tears to your eyes. It was a reminder of the loneliness that came with keeping these feelings to yourself. In that moment, you realise the weight of the emotions you've chosen to carry alone. But there was no one else to blame; you made the choice yourself, and now it was time to finish what you started.

With a deep breath, you locked your phone and shook off the lingering self-doubt. Adjusting your outfit one final time, you muttered a quiet affirmation to yourself and headed towards Hyunjin's house.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by his infectious excitement, "Finally, you're here! I need your expert fashion advice."

Suppressing the internal turmoil, you forced a smile, "Alright, let's get this over with."

As you entered his room, surrounded by the familiar scent of his space, you felt a twinge of nostalgia. The memories of your friendship flooded back, but now, they were tainted with a layer of complexity.

The process of picking an outfit began, with you providing suggestions and Hyunjin trying on various combinations. Looking at him more closely now, you hated that you suddenly found him so attractive.

You watched as he struggled with some of the buttons on his shirt before looking up at you with a pout, "Some help would be nice?"

His request cut through the air, and you couldn't hide the inward sigh. The situation was already complicated enough, and now he was making things even more difficult. Rolling your eyes in a feigned display of annoyance, you walked up to him, determined to maintain a facade of indifference.

As you carefully worked through the buttons, your concentration remained fixed on the task at hand. Hyunjin, however, couldn't help but let his gaze remain on you. His eyes naturally drifted downward, taking in the familiar sight of you deep in focus. At that moment, he found you adorable, with your tongue poking out from the corner of your lips and a small frown between your eyes.

Huh, guess not much has changed.

Standing up close, he began to notice details he hadn't paid attention to before. Your eyelashes were surprisingly long, framing expressive eyes that held a history of shared laughter and secrets. The baby fat in your cheeks had disappeared after the braces, leaving behind a more defined and mature look. He also noticed how pink and soft your lips appeared.

The realisation hit him like a wave—have you always looked this pretty? The question lingered in his mind, surprising even himself with the depth of observation he was suddenly making. It wasn't that he hadn't considered your attractiveness before, but in this moment, with the proximity and the shared history, it became more pronounced.

Finished with the last button, you stepped back, offering a casual comment, "There. All set."

Your best friend, however, remained silent for a moment, his thoughts still lingering on the newfound awareness of your features. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, unspoken sentiments hanging between you two.

Standing at his doorstep, Hyunjin, ready to go on his date with Lia, smiled down at you, "Thank you for your time and effort," You shook your head, "No worries, good luck and have fun." But as you turned to leave, a peculiar sense of unease settled in him; it didn't feel right watching you go by yourself.

Before you could take more than a few steps, you were surprised to find him beside you, matching your pace, "What are you doing? You'll be late if you don't go now."

He shrugged, unable to fully grasp his own actions but feeling the need to do this, "It's fine, Lia can wait a bit. I'll walk you home. You came all this way to help me. It's the least I could do."

Your heart skipped a beat at that gesture. For the first time since Lia entered your lives, he was putting you first, prioritising you over her. But the conflicting emotions only intensified; it wasn't making things any easier for you.

Reaching your home, you shooed him with a teasing smile, "Alright, I'm home safe. Now, hurry and go get your dream girl."

He smiled back but didn't move from his spot. You shook your head and playfully pushed him, "Go, you idiot. What are you—"

Suddenly, he pulled you into his arms for a hug, his lips close to your ear, "She may be my dream girl right now, but you'll always be my number one."

Your breath hitched at those unexpected words. Before you could react, he pulled away and ran off, leaving you standing there, a mix of confusion and warmth swirling within.

Stop doing this to me, Hwang Hyunjin.

The restaurant was adorned with soft lights and a pleasant ambience, the perfect setting for a romantic evening.

But Hyunjin was struggling to enjoy his first date with Lia as much as he had anticipated. Despite having dreamed of dating her for so long, his mind seemed to be preoccupied with thoughts that he couldn't fully understand.

As Lia spoke, sharing stories and laughter, he felt a subtle distraction, his mind involuntarily drifting back to you. It was as if a veil had been lifted, and he found himself unknowingly comparing his date to you. Of course, Lia was undeniably beautiful, a fact that anyone with functioning eyes could see. But she just wasn't... you? He didn't know about anyone else, but to him, you were prettier.

Realising the direction of his thoughts, Hyunjin mentally slapped himself for disrespecting Lia in such a way. Determined to salvage the date, he forced himself to focus on what she was saying, pushing away the distracting comparisons.

However, as the evening unfolded, he couldn't shake off the subtle feeling that the date wasn't going as well as he'd expected. He blamed himself for the disconnect, fully aware that he was the one responsible for the disarray of his own emotions.

Attempting to be present in the moment, he engaged in conversation, trying to enjoy the company of the girl he had dreamt of for so long. But the shadow of conflicting thoughts persisted, casting a pall over what should have been a joyful and momentous occasion.

As the night progressed, Hyunjin found himself immersed in a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. Despite his efforts to be present on his dream date with Lia, a growing sense of unease crept in. The realisation dawned on him like a quiet storm—he wasn't being entirely honest with her, and perhaps, more importantly, he wasn't being true to himself.

The version of himself that Lia had come to like was a meticulously crafted persona, tailored to fit her preferences. They engaged in activities she enjoyed, ate food she liked, and talked about subjects that captivated her. He even dressed in a way that he believed appealed to her tastes. In the process, he wondered if Lia liked him for who he truly was or merely for the version of himself he had presented to win her over.

If he were to be himself, would Lia have liked him at all? The sincerity of their interactions seemed to be overshadowed by the facade he constructed. It made him question the authenticity of their connection.

Aside from that, a more profound doubt surfaced—he questioned whether he genuinely liked Lia for who she was or if he was just infatuated with the idea of her. Was he captivated by the fantasy he created in his mind, rather than the reality of the person sitting across from him?

That night, the weight of the evening's revelations lingered as he collapsed onto his bed after sending Lia home.

Sighing heavily, he thought about the missed opportunity. He hadn't kissed her goodbye like he used to imagine. Instead, all he managed was a simple 'goodnight, see you at school next week' before leaving her doorstep. It wasn't the romantic farewell he envisioned, but the weight of his internal conflicts restrained him.

In the solitude of his room, he decided that it was time for a change. He acknowledged that the version of himself he'd presented to Lia wasn't sustainable, nor was it fair to either of them. With a newfound resolve, he made a decision—he would give her another chance, but this time, he wanted to be genuine, to be himself.

Perhaps, if he allowed Lia to see the real him, and if he took the time to genuinely understand her, there might be a chance for something more authentic to blossom between them.

With this resolve in mind, Hyunjin closed his eyes, attempting to push all thoughts of you out of his mind. You were his best friend, and he had to remind himself of that fact. As sleep claimed him, he envisioned a future where the real him and the real Lia could find common ground, unburdened by the illusions that initially clouded their connection.

The following week at school, you and Felix were surprised by Hyunjin's demeanour. He didn't exhibit the expected excitement that typically followed a successful first date. Instead, he seemed to have reverted to his previous self, the Hyunjin you knew before the Lia obsession took centre stage.

Your surprise was evident when, out of the blue, Hyunjin began walking you to class again. His laughter rang out as he snickered at the puzzled expression on your face, and without warning, he playfully ruffled your hair, "Stop looking at me like that." He teased.

In response, you whined and swatted his hand away, "Not the hair, you jerk!"

His laughter continued, a sound you've missed, and he couldn't hide his happiness at seeing this side of you again. Deep down, he knew he pushed you away with his previous behaviour. Slipping an arm around your shoulder, he spoke, "Look, I'm sorry for the way I behaved previously. I know you must've been hurt. I promise to make it up to you."

Before you could inquire about the details of his date with Lia and the sudden change in his attitude, you arrived at your class. He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly before leaving, "See you at lunch."

You nodded, still slightly confused but undeniably happy. Maybe the date didn't go as well as he'd hoped? The possibility filled you with hope, and you couldn't shake the optimism that bubbled within. You found yourself looking forward to lunchtime, eager to uncover the mysteries behind his change of heart.

The lunchtime rendezvous brought an air of anticipation as the three of you gathered at your usual spot. Despite Hyunjin's seemingly improved attitude, a sense of unease lingered in the air.

As you exchanged casual banter, he finally broached the subject, "Guys, there's something I want to talk to you about." His tone carried a weight that immediately caught your attention.

"I've been thinking," Hyunjin continued, his gaze shifting between you and Felix, "About Lia. I want to take a different approach with her. I've decided to be myself, the real me, around her. I want her to like me for who I truly am."

Your heart sank at his words, a sinking feeling of déjà vu washing over you. The hope that had briefly ignited was swiftly extinguished. It became clear that Hyunjin's newfound determination was geared toward pursuing a more genuine connection with Lia. While on the surface, it seemed like a positive step, the implications were disheartening.

Felix, however, expressed his support, "That's a great decision, Jinnie. Be yourself, and if she likes you for who you are, that's even better."

While Felix's words were encouraging, his eyes betrayed a different sentiment. They shifted to you, a subtle expression of concern. He understood the implications of Hyunjin's decision, knowing how you probably felt at that moment.

Another week passed, and Hyunjin, beaming with pride, announced to you and Felix that he was going on a second date with Lia. While you feigned happiness for him, Felix saw through the facade. The strain of suppressing your true feelings became apparent, and Felix, unable to watch you suffer in silence, decided it was time to intervene.

On the night of Hyunjin's second date, Felix took it upon himself to keep you company and distract you from your thoughts. Together, you baked brownies and indulged in a fun movie night. As the credits rolled on the screen and the room dimmed, he turned to see you staring numbly ahead, clearly lost in your own thoughts.

Sighing, he reached across and placed his hands over yours, "Talk to me, please. I want to be there for you. Why do you keep doing this to yourself? What are you trying so hard to prove, hm?"

The concerned look in your best friend's eyes finally broke through the walls you'd built around your emotions. With a heavy exhale, you crumbled, unable to hold back the feelings that had been festering within.

"It's just... I don't understand why I'm doing this to myself," You admitted, "I keep pretending to be okay, to be happy for him, but every time he talks about Lia, it just hurts. I don't know why I'm trying so hard to prove something. Maybe I'm just scared of losing him, of things changing between us."

Felix listened attentively, his grip on your hands offering both support and reassurance, "You don't have to go through this alone, you know?" He said softly, "It's okay to feel the way you do, and it's okay to talk about it."

With those words, the floodgates opened, and you poured out the conflicting emotions that had been plaguing you, "You were right... I guess I do have feelings for him."

Felix listened with a soft, understanding smile, his eyes reflecting a sense of calm assurance. He wasn't at all surprised by the revelation, having sensed the undercurrents of your emotions for some time.

"I don't even know when it started or why I feel this way," You confessed, your voice tinged with a mixture of confusion and vulnerability, "Hyunjin has been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and suddenly everything feels so complicated."

Felix squeezed your hand, "It's okay, you know. Feelings can be messy, and they don't always follow a logical timeline. What matters is that you're opening up about it now. You don't have to do this alone, and I'm here for you, no matter what."

He smiled softly, a reassuring warmth in his gaze. Felix didn't have all the answers, and he knew that unravelling the complexities of emotions wasn't a straightforward task. But he was determined to be the support you needed, offering a listening ear, a shoulder to lean on, and a friend who understood.

Meanwhile, on his date with Lia, Hyunjin couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was off.

Lia was a nice girl, but as the evening went on, he began to realise that she might not be exactly his type at all. It wasn't something he consciously thought about before, but as he spent time with her, he couldn't help comparing her to you again.

You, with your unladylike antics that he always teased you about but secretly cherished. Lia, in contrast, seemed different, and the more he pondered on it, the more he realised that different wasn't necessarily what he was looking for. He missed the easy banter and shared interests he had with you and Felix.

During their conversation, he noticed how Lia appeared bored or uninterested whenever he brought up stories about you and Felix. It struck him that, unlike your friendship, their discussions seemed one-sided, revolving mostly around Lia and her interests.

As she excused herself to the bathroom, he took the opportunity to check his phone.

Scrolling through Instagram, he stumbled upon Felix's story. The images and captions painted a vivid picture of a cosy evening filled with laughter—something he found himself envious of. At that moment, he realised that he wanted to be there with you.

As Lia returned from the bathroom, he felt that something was missing, and for the first time, he questioned whether pursuing a relationship with her was the right path for him.

Determined to move on from your feelings for Hyunjin, you decided to refocus on the things that once brought you joy – your love for gaming. Despite Hyunjin's announcement of giving up on Lia, a part of you understood that he was and would always be nothing more than your best friend.

Regardless of how things worked out with Lia, your feelings for Hyunjin would remain unrequited.

Returning to the library's gaming section, you immersed yourself in the digital worlds that always provided comfort. It was there that you met Seungmin, a fellow gamer who shared your passion for virtual adventures. The two of you quickly bonded over your favourite games, strategies, and the thrill of defeating virtual foes together.

Felix noticed the positive change in your demeanour and was relieved to see you returning to your usual self again. The laughter and excitement you shared with Seungmin during gaming sessions became a refreshing break from the emotional complexities that had weighed on you.

However, Hyunjin struggled to come to terms with the shift. Every mention of Seungmin stirred an unsettling feeling within him. He found it hard to reconcile the fact that you were forming a connection with someone else, and it left him grappling with emotions he hadn't anticipated.

Despite the internal turmoil, he understood that your happiness was most important. He tried to be supportive, but the subtle twinge of discomfort lingered whenever Seungmin's name came up.

After school, you excitedly ran up to Hyunjin and Felix, who were waiting for you by the school gates, "Hey, losers, sorry I can't walk home with you guys today. Go on without me; I'll see y'all tomorrow!"

Before you could dash off, Hyunjin's brows furrowed, and he reached for your wrist. Twisting you around, the moment felt like déjà vu from the day you helped him with his outfit. Both your eyes widened at the sudden proximity, and Felix cleared his throat awkwardly, looking away.

Hyunjin blinked rapidly before sputtering, "Wh-where do you think you're going, young lady? Your parents will be worried if you don't go home now."

You pulled away from him, rolling your eyes to feign nonchalance, "Jinnie, please. Do you think I'm you? My parents already know I'll be out after school today," Felix chortled to help lighten the atmosphere, "Hate to admit it, but she's right, bro."

Hyunjin scoffed, "Well, I'm just worried. You know how clumsy you can get," Before you could respond, Seungmin called your name from behind, and you beamed, "Don't worry, Seungmin will take care of me." He didn't like the sound of that one bit.

Just as he tried to stop you from going to Seungmin, Felix grabbed his arm and shook his head.

"Let her go."

Hyunjin didn't understand why it felt like those three words held a deeper meaning. He watched as you joined Seungmin, the two of you walking away, laughter floating back towards them. Felix turned to Hyunjin, his expression unreadable.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Hyunjin couldn't shake the unease that settled within him as he continued to watch your retreating figures. It was a feeling he couldn't quite define, and for the first time, he wondered if his worry for you went beyond the bounds of friendship.

As the two boys walked home, Hyunjin couldn't shake the lingering discomfort. The unease prompted him to turn to Felix, needing some clarity on the matter.

"Hey, what do you think about Seungmin?" Hyunjin asked, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Felix smiled knowingly, understanding the source of the inquiry, "Seungmin? He's a good guy. He's not just a gamer; he's dedicated to his studies too. I've noticed he's had a positive influence on our bestie, encouraging her to study harder as well."

Hyunjin nodded, absorbing Felix's words. He tried to accept his friend's reasoning and rationalise the situation for himself. Why was he feeling so unhappy about this anyway? Felix seemed just fine with your new friendship and even supportive of it.

Perhaps he should learn to be the same.

"Yeah, you're right," Hyunjin replied, forcing a smile, "I guess it's good that she's found someone who gets her interest."

Felix clapped him on the back, "Exactly! Seungmin seems like a genuine guy. Let's just be happy for her."

Hyunjin nodded again, attempting to bury the unease and be supportive like Felix. But deep down, a part of him couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing something, something intangible yet significant, and the journey to fully understand those emotions had just begun.

Meanwhile, you made a conscious effort to push aside the thoughts and emotions stirred up by the encounter with Hyunjin.

As you walked alongside Seungmin, chatting about the latest game releases, you couldn't escape the replay of the moment when Hyunjin grabbed your wrist. Your heart still raced as you wondered about the desperation in his eyes.

Could he be... jealous?

Did he feel the same way about you, or was it just a reaction to your attention being diverted from him and Felix? Rationalising, you convinced yourself that it was probably the latter. After all, Hwang Hyunjin, the charismatic and charming friend, couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. It was safer to assume that he wasn't used to your attention being on someone other than him and Felix.

You couldn't shake off the feeling that you needed to save yourself from further misery. The idea of Hyunjin shifting his focus to another girl loomed in your mind. Sure, the Lia phase was over, but he could very well set his eyes on someone new at any time.

Perhaps it was time to guard your heart, to protect yourself from potential heartache. Resolute in your decision, you pushed aside the uncertainty and focused on Seungmin, someone who seemed genuinely interested in you for who you were.

Despite your best efforts, you found your mind involuntarily comparing Seungmin to Hyunjin, and you mentally scolded yourself for these incessant thoughts.

Urging yourself to stop these comparisons, you recognised that if your feelings for Hyunjin weren't clouding your judgment, you might have fallen for Seungmin instantly. He was everything you could want in a guy – your dream guy, to be precise.

Seungmin shared the same interests, hobbies, and principles as you did. He was attentive, considerate, and almost perfect for you. Although he might not have been conventionally the ideal type for most, he fits your ideal perfectly. So close to perfection, if only he was... Hwang Hyunjin.

You snapped out of your thoughts when Seungmin called your name, informing you that he would be back in a bit as he went to collect your food order. You softened at his gentlemanly gesture, realising that you were being unfair to him by comparing him to Hyunjin. Seungmin was his own person, and you were determined to appreciate and like him for who he truly was.

The realisation hit you hard, and you resolved to give Seungmin the attention and consideration he deserved. After all, he had done nothing but show kindness and genuine interest in you.

Seungmin walked you home that evening after a day filled with fun and laughter. Arriving at your doorstep, you turned to him in gratitude, "Thank you so much for walking me home. Gosh, you really didn't have to. It'll be late by the time you get home."

He grinned, teasing, "Aww, are you worrying about me?"

You scoffed, "What if I am? It can be dangerous to be out late alone."

Unable to resist, he wrapped you in a hug. You stilled for a moment before lifting your hands to hold onto him, "You have no idea how happy I am that you care this much about me." He admitted, and you couldn't suppress your smile at his words.

"Of course, I care about you, Kim Seungmin. What kind of friend would I be not to?" You replied as he pulled away, a genuine warmth in your words.

He seemed to contemplate something before gathering the courage to ask, "H-hey, I was wondering... are you free this Saturday?"

Just as you were about to answer, a new voice interrupted you both, "No, she's not. She has plans with me, sorry." said Hyunjin, standing nearby and staring coldly at Seungmin. The unexpected interruption caught you off guard.

You glared at Hyunjin, annoyed by his sudden intrusion, "What? No, I don't." You retorted, not appreciating his assumption.

Hyunjin seemed hurt by your swift rejection, but trying to save his pride, he added, "Yes, you do. Felix got us tickets to see the latest Marvel superhero movie."

Furrowing your brows, you couldn't recall Felix mentioning any of these plans, "He did?" You questioned, feeling a bit perplexed.

Seungmin, aware that Hyunjin was your close friend, decided to be the bigger person, "That's alright, perhaps another time. I have to get home anyway. I'll see you at school." He said diplomatically, not wanting to leave a bad impression.

You nodded quickly, feeling bad about Hyunjin's borderline rude behaviour, "Text me when you get home, yeah?"

"I will." He beamed and patted your head affectionately before walking away. Hyunjin fumed from his corner, observing you watching Seungmin leave until he was out of sight. The tension lingered, leaving you with a mix of frustration and confusion as you turned your attention back to Hyunjin.

"Dude, what the hell was that?!"

Hyunjin rolled his eyes in annoyance, "What? Are you so upset that you don't get to go out with your little boyfriend again?" He retorted with a dismissive tone.

You narrowed your eyes at his sudden attitude, "Seungmin's not my—" You paused and took a deep breath, not wanting to entertain his childish behaviour, "What are you even doing here in the first place, Hyunjin? Did Felix really get us movie tickets this weekend?"

He gulped and looked away, unable to meet your eyes. That answered your question; he lied about the tickets. You sighed, growing tired of the drama, "I don't have time for this. If you won't talk, then I'm leaving."

Turning to enter your house, he quickly grabbed your wrist.

No, not again.

You distanced yourself before he could pull you close to him, determined to protect your heart.

But he couldn't hold back any longer. Frowning at the distance you deliberately put between you two, he exploded, "I've had it, alright? What's gotten into you all of a sudden? Seungmin this, Seungmin that! I'm sick of hearing about him! Do you even care about me and Felix anymore?"

You laughed humourlessly at those words, tears welling up in your eyes, "So, now you know how it feels, huh?"

He froze at that, realising the hypocrisy of his actions.

Wiping your tears harshly with your sleeves, you continued, "How selfish can you be, Hwang Hyunjin? I kept quiet and supported you while you obsessed over Lia, even when you pushed me aside. And now that I've found someone I like, you can't accept it?"

He gulped and lowered his head in shame.

"So it's alright if you do it, but when I do it, it's outrageous and unacceptable, huh? I see how it is."

Not wanting to hear another word from him, you stalked into your home and slammed the door shut, leaving him outside, confronted by the consequences of his actions.

The following day at school, you refused to speak to Hyunjin. When he attempted to chase after you and confront you, Felix stopped him with a serious expression that revealed he knew more than he let on. Stepping aside, the two of them finally decided to address the elephant in the room.

Felix began with a sigh, "She told me what happened last night."

Hyunjin avoided his friend's eye contact, feeling a deep sense of shame. This was a repeat of what happened with you before, but now it was Hyunjin's turn to feel the weight of his actions. Felix deduced that Hyunjin must have returned your feelings, seeing his reaction to Seungmin's appearance in your life.

"You know, it hurt her more than anyone for you to say those things to her," Felix explained, his tone serious, "It's extremely unfair to her. How you felt seeing her with Seungmin, was what she went through when you had Lia. But she kept it all in and suffered alone. She didn't even confide in me. I had to beg her to lean on me, seeing how much it affected her."

Hyunjin felt an overwhelming wave of guilt with this revelation. He had guessed that you'd be hurt, but he didn't fully understand the extent of it until he experienced it himself. He neglected you even more than he realised.

Goddamnit, I'm a horrible friend.

Felix, tired of all the charades, wanted his best friend to wake up to his own feelings. Firmly, he began, "Hyunjin, I want you to think carefully about this."

Hyunjin looked up at Felix's determined gaze, anticipating what he was about to say.

"Do you think that perhaps the reason you're this upset is because you have feelings for her?" Felix asked pointedly.

Hyunjin froze. The thought constantly lingered in the back of his mind, but he always refused to acknowledge it, let alone voice it out loud. It felt like it wasn't supposed to happen. After all, he had known you since you were all in diapers; you'd grown up side by side. How could it be possible that all of a sudden, he would be seeing you in a different light?

With Felix asking this question, Hyunjin knew the feelings must have been there for his friend to see through in the first place.

That would explain why he had been so unhappy to see you with Seungmin, especially when Felix seemed less than bothered by it. The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt a mixture of confusion, denial, and a hint of something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Felix placed a hand on Hyunjin's shoulder, "I know it sounds crazy, but deep down, I trust you know the answer better than anyone else. Just... take your time and figure it out before deciding how you want to approach her. Whatever happens, I'm here for you, alright buddy?"

Hyunjin nodded gratefully, "Thank you, Felix." The weight of the realisation hung heavy in the air, and he couldn't deny that he needed to confront his feelings, as confusing and unexpected as they were.

As Felix walked away, Hyunjin took a deep breath, grappling with the newfound awareness that his emotions for you might be more complicated than he ever imagined.

During lunch, you decided to be the bigger person and chose not to ignore Hyunjin any longer. Instead, you opted to act like nothing had happened. You didn't want any confrontation and wished only to move on from the drama. Thankfully, Hyunjin didn't pester you, especially with Felix sending him warning looks.

As you sat down, you engaged in casual conversation with both of them, discussing topics that steered clear of any emotional tension.

Hyunjin found relief in the momentary peace.

He realised that this was for the best, a chance for him to figure out his own feelings for you without the weight of recent events clouding his judgment. The lunch table, which had once been a source of joy and comfort, now felt like a battleground of unspoken emotions. He couldn't shake off the guilt, but he was determined to navigate through the complexities of his feelings.

Little did he know, you were also fighting with your emotions, doing your best to maintain a facade of normalcy for the sake of the friendship you cherished.

That weekend, Felix decided to make a genuine effort to lighten the atmosphere within your friend group. He went and bought movie tickets for real this time, hoping that this outing could serve as a reset button for all of you, despite the underlying emotional tension between you and Hyunjin.

As you approached the two of them, your usual cheerful self, Hyunjin fought to keep his heart still. You weren't necessarily dressed up for the occasion, but in his heightened awareness of his feelings for you, he couldn't deny that you looked beautiful to him no matter what you wore. He tried to pull himself together as you threw your arms over both their necks in a group hug.

He instinctively reached his hand over your back, holding you against him. At that moment, he closed his eyes, savouring the feeling of having you close. The warmth of your embrace and the subtle scent of your familiar perfume made it difficult for him to ignore the growing realisation that his feelings for you were deeper than he had ever acknowledged.

The movie outing, intended to bring back the carefree dynamic of your friendship, unknowingly became a pivotal moment in Hyunjin's self-discovery.

Felix observed you two knowingly, shaking his head at how oblivious you were to each other's feelings. While you attempted to maintain a distance, Hyunjin made every effort to close the gap, taking a step closer every chance he got. Despite your attempts to push him away, Felix could tell that it was becoming increasingly difficult for you to deny your own heart's desires.

Throughout the entire day, Hyunjin took care of you in every possible way. He offered to buy you whatever you wanted, handed you his jacket when the cinema hall got too cold, and even accompanied you to the washroom during the long movie.

You stared at him incredulously when he followed after you, whispering, "Jinnie, what are you doing? I'm fine going alone; I know where the washroom is."

He shushed you and gently pushed you out of the hall, saying, "I won't forgive myself if anything happens to you. Just let me do this."

Despite the flutter in your heart, you rolled your eyes and relented, "Ugh, fine. Don't blame me when you miss what happens in the movie later."

One of the cleaner ladies witnessing your banter chuckled, "Young lady, you have a wonderful boyfriend. You should let him take care of you if he wants to, not all men are like that nowadays."

Choking on your spit, you waved your hands at her, "N-no! You've got it all wrong, he's not my—"

Squishing your cheeks to disrupt your attempt to clarify, Hyunjin smiled politely at her before grinning mischievously down at you, "Listen to the kind lady, my love. She's right."

Once the lady was out of sight, you slapped his hand away with a glare, "You do that again, Hwang Hyunjin, and I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine."

He burst out laughing at the threat, and you struggled to suppress the smile forming on your face as you entered the washroom.

The outing continued, and Felix marvelled at how Hyunjin's actions were a silent testament to his growing feelings for you. It was as if he had unconsciously shifted into a more protective and caring mode. Felix exchanged glances with Hyunjin when you weren't looking, silently urging him to confront his emotions.

Hyunjin's attempts to get closer to you were evident. He lingered beside you during breaks, shared his snacks, and even stole a glance or two when he thought you weren't looking. Felix hoped that this could be the turning point for both of you.

By the end of the day, as you bid farewell, Hyunjin's eyes held a certain warmth that hadn't been there before. Felix smiled knowingly, hopeful that the walls both of you had built around your hearts might finally start to crumble.

The two boys walked you home that evening. Upon arriving at your doorstep, you turned to bid them goodbye, "Thanks, Lix, for the movie, and thanks, Jinnie, for the snacks. I had a good time with you losers." You said with a playful smile.

Felix laughed, giving you a warm hug, "You're welcome, idiot."

Hyunjin, not one to be outdone, waited for his turn. As his arms enveloped you, your face pressed against his shoulder, you hoped he couldn't hear the frantic beating of your heart. Little did you know, his own heart was racing just as fast. Squeezing you in his arms, he pressed a subtle kiss onto your head and whispered, "Anytime, cutie."

You blinked rapidly, feeling a sudden warmth spread through you. Felix cleared his throat, and Hyunjin reluctantly let you go. You smiled and waved at the two of them, "Alrighty then, I'll see you both at school."

Waving back, they turned to leave. Unbeknownst to Hyunjin, Felix caught him muttering a quiet, "Can't wait."

A week had passed and Hyunjin was just glad you no longer brought up Seungmin again, perhaps you've drifted apart from the boy? Whatever it was, he was just happy to not hear that name again.

Ah yes, things are finally returning to normal.

Or so he thought.

The cafeteria bustled with students, the usual hum of conversation filling the air as the three of you settled into your regular lunch spot. Hyunjin's eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned forward, suggesting an idea for the upcoming weekend.

"Hey, let's do something fun this Saturday! I heard there's this new arcade opened—"

Before he could finish, your sheepish smile and the gentle rub on your neck halted him, "Sorry, I won't be able to make it. You guys can go ahead without me though."

Hyunjin furrowed his brows, "What? Why not?"

You sighed, conflicted about sharing the information but recognising the necessity, "I'm... going on my first date with Seungmin."

His cheerful expression faltered, his eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and disappointment, "Seungmin? You're still seeing him?"

You nodded hesitantly, your gaze shifting away, "Yeah, we've been hanging out quite a bit lately, and he finally asked me out. I didn't want to bring it up, but since you asked..."

The atmosphere grew tense, and Felix, who was listening to the conversation, threw a concerned look at his friend. Hyunjin tried to put on a brave face, forcing a smile, "Oh, that's... that's great. I hope you have fun."

Felix intervened, sensing the underlying tension, "Well, we can reschedule our plans. No big deal."

You offered an apologetic smile, "Thanks, Lix. I really appreciate it."

Hyunjin forced a smile, trying to mask the discomfort he felt, "Yeah, go have a good time."

His gaze lingered longingly on your retreating figure as you left lunch early that day. The once-clear path of friendship now seemed muddled, and the excitement for the weekend plans felt overshadowed by heartache.

The streetlights cast elongated shadows on the sidewalk as Hyunjin walked home, his steps heavy with self-pity. His gaze was fixed on his phone screen, flipping through your Instagram stories with Seungmin. Felix, catching up to his despondent friend, slung an arm over Hyunjin's shoulder.

"Dude, why didn't you wait for me?" Felix asked, noticing Hyunjin's distraction.

Hyunjin didn't respond, lost in his thoughts. Felix glanced over and sighed when he saw your stories playing on Hyunjin's phone. Swiftly, he snatched the device out of his friend's hands.

"That's enough. Will you keep wasting away while the girl you like is out there with another guy? Aren't you going to do something about your feelings?" Felix's words were firm, a mix of concern and frustration.

Hyunjin, taking his phone back, continued trudging home, "What can I do, Lix? All she sees is Seungmin. It doesn't matter how I feel."

Without warning, Felix smacked him on the back of the head. Hyunjin froze, rubbing the back of his head as Felix continued walking.

"Is that what you think? So you're upset with her seeing Seungmin because you have feelings for her. You do realise she felt the same way seeing you with Lia, right? So, what does that tell you?" With those words hanging in the air, Felix left Hyunjin standing there, the pieces slowly falling into place in his mind.

Wait, does that mean she feels the same?

The soft chime of incoming messages interrupted your preparations for the date with Seungmin. You checked your phone to find a series of texts from Hyunjin, desperation evident in his words. He insisted that he needed to meet you urgently, that there was something important he needed to discuss.

Sighing, you considered ignoring him, determined to focus on your evening with Seungmin. But the messages continued to flood in, Hyunjin's pleas echoing through your phone. You were tired of the emotional rollercoaster, the constant back and forth.

Just as you were about to throw your phone aside, a few more texts flashed across the screen. Hyunjin persisted, wanting to talk to you, to meet with you, 'Please don't go to him.' Frustration welled up in you, but you maintained your resolve.

With a firmness that surprised even yourself, you replied, 'Enough, Hyunjin. I'm going on this date with Seungmin whether or not you like it. You're not stopping me this time.'

As you hit send, a text from Seungmin arrived, informing you that he had arrived.

Fixing your hair one last time, you took a deep breath and made a conscious decision to put thoughts of Hyunjin aside for the night. Tonight was about you and Seungmin, and you were determined to enjoy the evening without the interference of unresolved feelings.

Except it was harder than you think.

The cityscape sparkled with lights as you walked beside Seungmin. Despite the vibrant atmosphere and your date's engaging company, every corner of the city seemed to whisper memories of Hyunjin. You couldn't escape the nostalgia that flooded your mind, remembering the countless times you and your childhood friend had roamed these familiar streets together throughout the years.

It became a bitter realisation that, no matter how much you tried to focus on Seungmin, your mind wandered back to your best friend. The restaurants you passed, the park you strolled through, every place held echoes of shared moments with Hyunjin.

To make matters worse, your phone vibrated incessantly with continuous messages from him. Despite your decision to ignore him, his texts continued to flood in, each one a reminder of his persistence. It tugged at your heartstrings, making it harder to immerse yourself in the date.

As the night progressed, you found yourself in a constant battle between the present and the past, between Seungmin and Hyunjin.

Just why are you doing this to me?

Letting out a tired sigh, you pushed your phone back into your pocket after seeing yet another text from you-know-who. You managed a convincing smile for your date, trying to push away the distraction of Hyunjin's persistent texts. But Seungmin's concern was evident as he placed a reassuring hand on your arm.

"Hey, everything alright?" He asked, his eyes reflecting genuine care. Your heart twinged with guilt for letting your emotions surface so easily. Nodding your head, you quickly regained your composure.

"Yep, all good. Ooh, let's go see that over there!" You pointed towards an intriguing stall, its shelves filled with peculiar items. You hoped the novelty would distract Seungmin—and, in turn, yourself—from the underlying tension of the night.

As you both explored the colourful array of trinkets and curiosities, you did your best to be present, banishing the persistent thoughts of a certain someone. Little did you know, Seungmin observed your efforts with concern, hoping to make the evening memorable for you.

Fingers intertwined with yours, he gently tugged you away from the crowd to a quieter corner by the beautiful Hangang River. The distant city lights reflected on the water's surface, casting a serene glow on both of you.

There, you stumbled upon a talented busker passionately pouring their heart into a soulful melody. Seungmin's eyes sparkled with delight as he guided you to a spot where you could enjoy the performance undisturbed.

In that moment, surrounded by the soothing music and the gentle night breeze, you smiled shyly. His presence felt warm and comforting, and for an instant, all you could see was him. He truly was a great guy, someone who could be the perfect boyfriend.

You could see it, see yourself being happy with him.

Until you couldn't.

The busker's next song struck a chord deep within you, a familiar melody that wrapped around your heart like a haunting echo from the past. It was your song, the one you and Hyunjin had dedicated to each other; it signified how much you meant to one another.

As the singer's voice carried the tune, memories of late-night talks, stolen glances, and the warmth of Hyunjin's presence flooded your mind. It was a bittersweet reminder of a connection that ran far deeper than you'd allowed yourself to acknowledge.

You knew you were hopeless when a voice you knew too well from behind you called out your name.

Hwang Hyunjin stood there, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of emotions that mirrored your own inner turmoil. The shattered fragments of the future you envisioned with Seungmin lay scattered like a broken mirror, and there was no escaping the truth that had resurfaced with the haunting melody.

Turning to face him, you knew you were a lost cause the moment you laid your eyes on him. You had no control over how your heart instantly reacted to merely seeing him.

Seungmin's smile faltered, his grip on your hand loosening. The sudden shift didn't escape your notice, and when you looked up at him with tearful eyes, you found a bittersweet understanding in his gaze. His hand gently patted your head, a comforting gesture that carried an unspoken message.

"It's okay. Follow your heart, go to him," He said, his voice soft and understanding. His reassuring smile attempted to dispel any guilt you might feel, "Don't apologise, please. From the beginning, it was clear that your heart belonged to someone else. I knew that, and I just wanted to try my luck winning it over. But it's alright; I can tell this whole time, it's still with him."

His words lingered in the air, carrying both acceptance and a touch of melancholy. Hyunjin, who had been silently observing, began to view your date in a different light. Felix's insight had been right; Seungmin was a great guy.

Giving your hand a final, supportive squeeze, Seungmin nodded encouragingly at Hyunjin before walking off into the night.

The atmosphere around you seemed to shift, the distant sounds of the city melting away as Seungmin left you alone with Hyunjin and the weight of his words hanging in the air.

"Great, he's gone now. Are you happy?! What is it that's so freaking urgent that you had to ruin my date—"

Before you could process the mix of emotions, Hyunjin closed the distance between you. Your anger bubbled up at his apparent interruption, but he cut through your words with a revelation that shook you to your core.

"I'm in love with you, okay?!"

The confession hung in the air, and for a moment, the world stopped. You looked at him, your heart pounding, thoughts racing.

The truth that lingered beneath the surface had finally surfaced, leaving you both vulnerable and exposed. As the weight of his words settled in, you found yourself at a loss for how to respond.

Time seemed to come to a standstill.

You stood there, eyes wide, trembling, as the weight of his words sank in, "Wh-what?" You croaked, almost disbelieving. You feared your mind might be playing tricks on you.

Hyunjin softened, reaching gently for your hands, "I said, I'm in love with you. Always have been. It's... it's always been you. I should've known when I couldn't stop thinking about you even when I was with Lia. I'm sorry it took me this long to realise."

Your eyes rounded at the sincerity in his voice as he continued, "And I know that you feel exactly the same way I do."

You scoffed lightly at his confidence, "And how would you know that?"

He smiled, his gaze unwavering, "Tell me I'm wrong then. Tell me I've never once crossed your mind while you were with Seungmin."

You huffed in defeat, and he brought a hand up to cup your face, making you meet his gaze, "It has been painful watching you be with him, but I deserved it after making you watch and help me chase after Lia. I'm an idiot. I don't know how I've been so blind to my own feelings all this while."

You chuckled, placing your hand over his affectionately, "Believe it or not, I'm not much better. I didn't realise I loved you until Lia came around too."

His heart skipped a beat at your words, and he rested his forehead against yours, "Say that again."

You frowned, "Say what? That I'm no better than you?"

He laughed, "Not that. What you said after that."

You blinked slowly, "That I... love you?"

He nodded, biting his lip, "Again."

You blushed, murmuring, "I love you, you idiot."

His heart soared at that, "I love you too." Before you knew it, you were both leaning in, and your breath was taken away when you finally felt his lips pressed against yours. The world seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of you and the shared realisation of a love that had been there all along.

Hyunjin took you home, and the journey was a blur of stolen kisses, laughter, and the promise of a future that was now crystal clear. He kissed you dizzy at your doorstep, a sweet and lingering moment that left you breathless.

As you unlocked your front door, still feeling the warmth of his touch on your lips, you couldn't shake the need to address things with Seungmin. Despite the confusion of your emotions, you felt responsible for any unintentional hurt you might have caused.

Pulling out your phone, you composed a long text to Seungmin, expressing your sincerest apologies for leading him on, even when that wasn't your intention.

His reply came not long after, and you felt relief as you read his understanding words. Seungmin reassured you that he cherished the friendship you both had and was genuinely happy for you. You sighed, grateful that he handled it with such grace, and responded with a heartfelt thank you.

The weight on your shoulders lifted, knowing that at least one aspect of the situation was resolved amicably.

As the night settled in, you found yourself sitting by your window, a gentle breeze carrying the promise of a fresh start. Texts from Hyunjin lit up your screen, each message carrying a piece of the happiness that now coloured your world.

You smiled, realising that sometimes, the best things in life were the ones that took time to unfold.

The following week, you and Hyunjin walked into school hand in hand, a couple at last. The shift in your relationship wasn't much of a surprise to anyone. It has always been clear to most people that there was something slightly more between you; Hyunjin's protective nature and constant presence by your side made it obvious, that the love he had for you was different from Felix's platonic one.

The subtle hints that hung between you two over the years were now out in the open, and the school could finally witness the natural progression from best friends to something more.

Felix, stationed by his locker with an amused smirk, "Finally! I was this close to losing my patience waiting for you fools to realise you belonged together." His words carried a teasing tone, but there was genuine happiness in his eyes as he looked at the two of you.

Hyunjin chuckled, "Thanks, Lix. I won't lie, we probably wouldn't have been together yet if it weren't for you."

You nodded in agreement, "For real, you're the best," Grateful for the support and nudges from Felix, you jumped into his open arms, embracing him with genuine warmth. He grinned teasingly at your boyfriend as he hugged you back tightly, "I sure am."

Hyunjin, feigning jealousy, cleared his throat, "Alright, alright, that's enough! Hands off my girlfriend." He pulled you back into his arms, giving you a playful glare. You giggled, basking in the joy of finally being able to show your affection openly. The three of you shared a moment, knowing that this new chapter in your lives had been a long time coming.

The laughter-filled atmosphere at the lunch table spoke volumes about the comfort and happiness that had settled into your lives. With your boyfriend sitting by your side and your best friend across from you, the three of you enjoyed the moment.

Felix, ever the playful instigator, decided to bring up a memory, "Hey, remember when you said you had no interest in dating? Funny how things turned out, now look at you."

You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes at his persistent teasing. Just as you were about to feed Hyunjin some of your kimchi fried rice, you paused midway, giving Felix a mock glare, "How many times have we been over this? Give it a rest, will you?"

Hyunjin whined at the interruption, and you turned to feed him with a coo, making him smile. Felix burst into laughter, thoroughly entertained, "Nope, I'll never let you live this down."

Your boyfriend swallowed the food in his mouth before throwing a tangerine at Felix, "Leave her alone and pick on someone your own size, Lee Yongbok."

Felix shook his head amusingly, catching the fruit in his hand, "Okay, okay, sheesh."

Amid the laughter and light banter, Felix suddenly shifted the mood, his expression turning serious, "Hey, on a serious note, you two. I just want you to know how genuinely happy I am for both of you. I wish you nothing but the best, and I hope you'll be together for a really long time. You both mean the world to me and your happiness is what matters most."

Hyunjin wrapped an arm around you and nodded, "I promise, Lix, I'll take care of her for as long as I'm capable of doing so."

Your eyes grew a bit wet at the sincerity of their words. Just as the moment was turning emotional, Felix, in his typical fashion, couldn't resist adding a touch of humour, "Oh, and by the way, if you have a kid, name them after me. Felix has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

You and Hyunjin stared at him, unamused, for a brief moment before bursting into laughter. Without missing a beat, you both reached over to give him a playful smack, "Dream on, Lix."

Deciding to go on a date after school, the two of you waved your best friend goodbye before skipping off in the opposite direction.

Swinging your intertwined hands, Hyunjin couldn't help but pout at the thought of your gaming plans with Seungmin over the weekend, "Can't you hang out with me instead of gaming with Seungmin, hm?" He asked, a playful whine in his voice.

You rolled your eyes, a teasing smile playing on your lips, "Jinnie, please, you're the one who told me the importance of maintaining our own lives outside of our relationship, right?"

He sputtered for a moment, caught off guard, "W-well, I mean, yeah, I did but—"

You shook your head, cutting off his protest with a gentle finger pressed against his lips, "No 'buts.' I'm playing with Seungmin, and you can't stop me."

Turning to continue walking, he tugged on your wrist and pulled you against him. With a gasp, you placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself, "Really? You'd rather play games with some other guy than do this with your own boyfriend?" He murmured, his tone a mix of playfulness and a hint of something more.

Before you could respond, he leaned in, kissing you with an intensity that caught you by surprise. Your knees buckled, and you would have fallen if it hadn't been for his strong hold on you. Your eyes fluttered closed almost instantly as you melted into the kiss, all thoughts of gaming and Seungmin fading away.

When he pulled away, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips, he gazed at your dazed state, "Tell me, is gaming better than this, hm?" He teased, his voice carrying a playful tone.

Lost in the trance of the moment, you shook your head, feeling his lips brush against yours before he kissed you again. The sensation was electrifying, but if Hyunjin thought he had won you over with that, he was severely mistaken.

Because when the weekend came around, and you were immersed in your gaming session with Seungmin, no amount of kisses from Hyunjin could distract you from the digital world you were exploring. As much as you loved the moments with your boyfriend, your passion for gaming was a part of who you were, and it was a promise you intended to keep.

But you did let him come over while you game.

Hyunjin pouted as he watched you talk excitedly into the mic on your headset, your enthusiasm evident in every word you spoke to Seungmin. Despite his initial playful complaints about being abandoned for games, he couldn't fight the smile that grew on his face.

As you laughed and strategised with Seungmin, Hyunjin appreciated how genuinely happy you were in these moments. He understood that your passion for gaming was a significant part of who you were, and he respected that.

Seated beside you, he immersed himself in his own world of sketches and drawings. The atmosphere was filled with the sound of your laughter and the clicking of his pencil against the paper. He was content, knowing that you were both doing things you loved, even if they were very different. Being by your side was all that mattered to him. And as he glanced at you with a soft smile, he thought, maybe, opposites do attract after all.

He couldn't resist leaning over to plant a kiss on your head as you played. You winked at him in response, making him laugh.

When the long match finally ended in your favour, you jumped up, arms thrown around his neck in triumph, "We won, Jinnie!" You exclaimed, and he cheered alongside you, savouring the victory.

As you celebrated, Hyunjin sneakily wrapped his arms around you and whispered, "Should I reward you for doing such a good job?" A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes.

You gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth when you heard a loud groan through your headset. Seungmin's voice echoed, and you realised he could still hear you with the mic unmuted, "Ew, I really didn't need to hear that. My day's completely ruined now, thanks."

"Shut up, Seungmin. You've been hogging my girlfriend all day. Can I have her back already?" Hyunjin scolded, and your face turned a shade of red.

Seungmin laughed good-naturedly, "Fine, she's all yours."

Hyunjin grinned in victory as you ended the call with Seungmin, and he wasted no time pulling you back into his arms as soon as you logged out of the game.

"Damn right, she is. All mine."

I'll be honest, this slightly strayed from the initial direction that I was gonna go for, but I'm happy with how it ended.

Thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Imagine doing your nails while Gibbs is down with his boat and he comes up earlier and expected and is surprised to see you awake

“Why are you still awake?”

“Why are you still awake?”

And him ending up staying until you’re done

Little Things

“I’ll be up soon.”

Your boyfriend’s famous words to you at least 3 times a week. You never understood why he said it as if he didn’t always end up coming to bed till many hours later, usually when you were already asleep.

You knew there were many reasons he stayed down there in the musky basement, tinkering away with his beloved DIY projects, decompression being one of them. Whether it was a stressful day at work, a particularly disturbing case he was assigned to, or just really dedicated to building various pieces of woodwork, he spent at least a quarter of his life down there.

It didn’t bother you for the most part, it was his biggest way of coping and you weren’t going to ruin that for him just so you could get a few extra hours of cuddles in with him.

But tonight was different, only because you were far from tired and decided that you’d use the time to do your nails.

Once you brought all of your supplies down into the living room, you turned the tv on low, mainly for white noise and got to work prepping your toes first. Your choice of color this week was going to be a taupe-like shade. Perfect color for the fall season and it would match with just about anything you wore. Had you been skilled enough, you would’ve added acrylics but decided to leave that to the professionals and just stick with the base and top coat.

After painting and cleaning up the edges on your toes, you got to work on the rest of your nails, struggling once it came to your non dominant hand. You were concentrating so hard on not painting outside the lines, you didn’t even notice your boyfriend come up.

“Why are you still awake?” he asked in curiosity, walking over to observe your makeshift nail salon. There were files, cue tips and cotton balls strewn across the dining room table and a half empty bag of kettle chips you had been intermittently snacking on.

“Why are you still awake?” you countered with playful sass.

He put up his hands in mock surrender and walked over to the kitchen to grab a beer before coming back over and taking a seat next to you. The silence was comfortable as he grabbed the remote and changed the channel, offering you a sip of his beer. You accepted, giving it back to him and grabbed the bag of chips, holding it out as an offer. He grabbed a handful and set it back on the table as you continued your painting, occasionally asking him to hand you the acetone soaked cotton ball.

Once you had gotten done applying the final top coat, your back was killing you and you were getting light headed from all the air blowing you did to speed up the drying process. Jethro was still relaxed into the couch beside you, hand caressing little patterns on your back, content as he went back and forth from watching his movie to watching you.

“How do you like the color? I think it’s very chic in my opinion,” you spoke, smiling as he nodded in agreement.

“Looks good,” was all he said. He could care less what color you painted your nails and only gave you an answer to make you happy but that’s one of the reasons why you loved him. All he ever wanted to do was make you feel beautiful and heard. Even when it came to minuscule things such as a nail polish color. You didn’t need him to give you long articulated compliments, you had figured out his shorthand a long time ago.

He made you stay on the couch as he cleaned everything up and turned everything off.

“You can grab your supplies in the morning,” he said before picking you up bridal style, making you laugh and hold onto his neck.

“Jethro, the polish is dry, I can walk.”

“I know.”

You reveled in how easily he carried you upstairs and into your bedroom, only setting you down so the both of you could brush your teeth and get undressed for bed.

The two of you faced each other in bed, you running your fingers through his hair as he hummed in appreciation with his eyes closed. Placing a kiss on his nose, you whispered.

“Goodnight Jethro.”

“Mnight,” he mumbled already half a sleep from your brushing fingers ministrations but pulled you in for a proper kiss afterwards, leaving you with a smile.

[soracities]

how do you know when you're getting good at poetry? everybody dunks on halsey and rupi kaur's poetry, and i never really got why and idk if that's what i sound like

Honestly, I don't think there's ever a point at which you "know" you're getting good at poetry--I think "good" and "bad" are kind of vague and amorphous (and distracting) categories that don't do much in helping us understand the feel and impact of certain writing, chiefly because they can also be deeply subjective. How a poet views a particular work and how a reader views it will be very, very different because their relationship to the work is different. I also think "good" is a sort of external category that does not (or should not) carry into the act of writing itself--when you make "is this good?" the chief consideration as you write, you're not actually present in the writing: you're focused on the finished product, not the process, but the process is the most important thing: that's where the poem actually meets you. I think growth, in writing, is less about knowing if you're "good" in this regard, and more about being able to have confidence, or simply just trust, in the writing as it happens.

There's a famous saying somewhere that a work of literature is never "finished"--it just stops. I think skill, when it comes to writing, lies in recognising where this point is, in learning and developing how you navigate what it is you want to say, and how you say it. Some poems, eventually, reach a point where you can take them no further and you know there is nothing more to be said in them or through them. Some poems reach a point where you can take them no further, but there is still something left to be said in them. Those poems get revisited, worked, and reworked again, until they (maybe) get close to the first category: this may mean you work on them for a few weeks, or for years--but either way you are prioritizing the process of making the poem, not how it will be received. "Is this a good poem?" in my view at least, is not really the relevant question--what's relevant is "is this true to what I wanted to say?" Leonard Cohen famously wrote over 100 drafts of "Hallelujah"--I don't know if the central question for him here was just a matter of his skills as a songwriter.

Regarding Halsey and Rupi Kaur, I've only been able to read Halsey's poems through previews on Google Books so I don't know what other people's critiques are--based on what I saw, though, I don't know if it makes sense to criticize their quality as "poems" when she is primarily a songwriter and a lot of those poems wound up as songs. I'm more familiar with Rupi Kaur's writing, though, and others like her (Atticus, Michael Faudet etc), and while I have a personal policy of not getting into Kaur online (there's an ask here which is about as much as I'm willing to say regarding my feelings on her writing)--I can get into this trend or poetry "style" as a whole. And to be honest I think the chief issue here with poetry like this is that poetry, by definition, involves a deep and intimate relationship with language: this holds true regardless of whether the poem is simple, or complex, whether it's 5 lines long or goes on for 50 pages. As I said in that previous ask, it's not something you can reduce to a formula, nor is it a matter of mere reportage or a collection of statements: what makes a poem has nothing to do with line breaks (prose poems exist), but everything to do with how the language moves, how the language of a poem engages with its own content, with itself, and, as a result, with the reader.

The kind of work that proliferates on Instagram does not have that kind of engagement with language--they are, to me, pieces of information more than anything else. They reduce language to a series of stock phrases that act, not as actual words, but as images (and I don't mean this in a visually evocative way). It tries to evoke something that requires a thoughtful and sustained examination in order to be expressed, by surpassing the reality of what that examination actually requires. It tries to ape the effect of a powerful poem without the work that goes into actually being able to make that kind of a poem in the first place: and that work is a sustained encounter and confrontation with the language used and its relationship to what it tries to convey, in understanding that words are not interchangeable blocks you move around willy-nilly but that they have weight and intention, that they interact with each other to build up an idea or a feeling or a landscape in the most accessible way (insofar as language can make anything accessible, at least). But this is rarely, if ever, felt in IG poetry because it refuses to recognize or respect the demands and requirements of the medium it uses.

And because it is lacking in this engagement and recognition, these poems are also, for the most part, lacking sincerity--and this, to me, is one of the most crucial things when it comes to writing. I recall one IG poet whose work was in the same class as someone like Atticus, but I also recall one of his poems which genuinely moved me--and it moved me because, unlike everything else on his account, that poem felt sincere: the structure and the language wasn't any different to anything else he wrote, but in reading it, it was not a question for me of whether it was "bad" or "good"--what made the impact was that it was honest: and the difference showed. You can't come into a poem with ulterior motives. You can't come into it without an understanding, or respect, for the language you use. I'm absolutely not policing what people should or shouldn't read, and I'm not saying people are wrong for liking these poems, either, or that Halsey, Kaur, Atticus et al., are wrong for writing them. Expression is expression, and what speaks to you speaks to you. And to be honest, it is a different kettle of fish when you are writing something purely for yourself (and I think allowing yourself to partake in any kind of artform, without worrying about needing to be good at it, is deeply important for the human spirit)--but because they are putting their work out publicly, if we are going to be evaluating what they write and how they write it, that evaluation has to be rooted in an understanding of the art form they intend their work to be a part of.

For me, these are the main issues I have with these writers and their work and why I just do not like them. But I also want to stress that, ultimately, what you sound like in your own poems, anon, does not matter as much as being sincere to yourself does. As I said, I don' like using terms like "good" and "bad" and I think that often they're fairly reductive (and sometimes outright pointless) categories to use when we talk about and assess poetry--more than anything else, the key to building a robust and informed discernment when it comes to poems is to simply just read--read a lot of it and read widely. The broader and richer your repository of poetry (and literature in general) is, the more informed you are when it comes to all the different ways language can move through a poem, and all the different impacts it can have as a result. It deepens and enriches your understanding of all the different ways of looking at something, questioning something, expressing something. Your vocabularly grows and deepens; your net of associations--visual, linguistic etc--strengthens. And when this understanding grows you are able to place the things you read into a much wider and far more informed context. And this in turn allows you to grow as a reader and a writer. I hope this helps you a little, anon 💕

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Pretty P.A. Chapter 2

Summary: Y/N has been the personal assistant to the most influential and famous fashion modeling agency director in the industry for the past 13 years.  They’ve decided to retire, and are leaving the agency in the hands of their protege and former model, Bucky Barnes.  He seems plenty qualified, and Y/N is excited for a chance to work with him.  Change always takes time,  but the new insanely hot boss is distrustful and hesitant towards her.  **curvy reader** **Y/N/N = Your nickname ** Warnings: mentions of sexual assault (not from Bucky), some violence, blood, smut

Previous chapter Next chapter

The next few weeks were filled with planning, redecorating, traveling and reworking within the agency.  What was now Bucky’s office was going through a major remodel after Tony moved out of it, and Y/N was following him around as he finished his last few modeling assignments and contracts.  She had inserted herself into his life as much as she could, getting to know his routine, his likes and dislikes, his family and their details, and all the things she had done that worked between her and Tony.  It didn’t come without challenges, though.  Bucky was always keeping her an arms length away personally, never fully opening up to her, and he seemed to struggle trusting her.  After another long shoot day, Bucky changed back into his comfortable clothes and headed over to Y/N who was typing furiously on her phone.

“Mr. Barnes,” she greeted him quickly and held out his water bottle to him.  He took it and drank a few big gulps before giving it back to her.  “The publicist said we’re done for the day.  Is there anywhere else you’d like to go before heading home?” she asked as she gathered her things together, slipping his drink into one of her bags.

“I’d like to stop at the office and see where they’re at with the remodel,” he said quickly.

“Of course.  The car is ready,” Y/N said politely.  She was ever the professional with Bucky.  He had made it very clear from the first day they worked together that he was not one for personal conversation.  He called her Miss Y/L/N, so she returned the favor and only called him by his last name.  He had given her an odd look when she did but didn’t press her on it.  She only asked him appropriate-for-work type of questions, and he did the same to her.  To the others in the office she regularly interacted with, she was her usual bright and bubbly self, being able to intersperse the professionalism with her friendships, then the second he walked in she would straighten her back and school her face to a more demure expression.

The car pulled up to the agency and he got out first and held the door for her.  Ever the gentleman, she thought.  She gave him a polite smile and led him into the building.  The elevator ride was silent, as it always was, and when it opened they found the office empty.  The construction workers and interior designers had left for the day.  Y/N led the way to his office and slowly opened the door.  It was nearly done.  The desk and chairs were on the floor in pieces, waiting to be assembled, but the paint, wallpaper, flooring, and basic styling pieces were all in place.

“How do you like it so far, Mr. Barnes?” Y/N asked as she slowly walked around the office, making mental notes about small things that needed cleaning or possible changes.

Bucky was quiet for a moment, so she turned back to him.  He was looking around with a small smile on his face.  “It looks great.  I’m excited for it to be done so we’re not moving around all day.”

Y/N nodded with a side smile.  “Any changes that you’d like to make?”

Bucky looked at her again, the smile slipping off his face.  “Just one.”  He walked closer to her, stopping about a foot away from her.  He met her gaze and his eyes narrowed.  “Why do you call me Mr. Barnes?”

Y/N blinked in surprise.  “I thought that’s what you wanted to be called.”

His head tilted.  “Why would you think that?”

She copied his head tilt.  “You called me Miss Y/L/N on the first day.  I assumed that was the kind of relationship you would like to establish with me.”

Bucky huffed a laugh, his smile lighting up his face again.  “It just feels very strange for you to be so open and friendly with everyone in the office but me.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and her mouth slightly dropped.  “Oh…I’m sorry, I didn’t realize–”

“It’s fine,” Bucky laughed.  “That was my fault.  Can we start again?”

Y/N sighed and smiled wider.  “Yes.”  She held her hand out to him.  “Hi.  My name is Y/N.”

Bucky reached forward and shook her hand.  “Hi Y/N.  My name is Bucky.  And I like to be called Bucky.”

Y/N laughed and he seemed to brighten at that.  “I like to be called Y/N.  Though I’ve also been called “Pretty P.A.,” “Y/N/N,” or “that bitch at Olympus.””

Bucky’s brow furrowed.  “Who called you that last one?”

Y/N cocked an eyebrow at him.  “You’ll find out soon during next week’s meetings.”

Bucky grimaced.  “Am I going to have to be the big bad boss on somebody?”

Y/N shook her head.  “I can handle myself, Bucky.”

He looked unsure but nodded.  “We should probably review those meetings real quick.”

Y/N nodded and led him out of the office to her little desk area right outside.  She sat at her chair and Bucky sat on the reception waiting area couch, plopping his long legs up onto the cushion.  She opened her books and had her phone calendar open as she started reading off the meetings planned for the next week.

“Then Thursday there’s a two hour lunch blocked out for Hydra–���

“No,” Bucky’s voice scared her.  She looked up at him in alarm.  His eyes were piercing as he looked over at her, his lips set in a fine line and his nose flaring in anger.  “We will never do business with them again.”

Y/N was shocked but quickly recovered herself.  She looked back down at her book and made a note.  “I will cancel.”  

Bucky was stiff as he sat up straight on the couch.  He glared at the floor as he swallowed harshly.  “I’m guessing that’s who called you the bitch at Olympus?”

Y/N scoffed as she set down her pen and leaned back in her chair.  “How did you know?”

Bucky shook his head.  The anger on his face quickly turned to despair and he closed his eyes.  “Just had a feeling,” he whispered.

Y/N felt the shift in the energy of the room.  She slowly stood and walked over to the couch and sat next to him, but kept her distance.  She angled her body to face him.  “May I ask why you don’t want to work with them?”

Bucky was wringing his hands in front of him as the emotions on his face kept changing.  He kept his eyes closed.  “I’ve kept my distance with you, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”  Y/N didn’t answer.  “It hasn’t been because I don’t like you.  It’s because…do you remember booking me on a photoshoot eight years ago with Hydra?”

Y/N thought back.  “Vaguely, yes.  You were a few years in with us at that point.”

Bucky nodded and his jaw clenched.  “And do you remember how I suddenly quit after that?”  She nodded again.  “Alexander Pierce is…a piece of work,” he continued, breathing heavily in through his nose and out through his mouth, like he was fighting off a panic attack.  “His long-time photographer, Brock Rumlow, was having me do some strange poses.”  Y/N suddenly knew where this conversation was going and her hands tightened into fists, her own jaw clenching.  “I didn’t think much of it at first.  Some photographers have weird creative processes.  But then he made everyone leave so it was just me and him.  He started physically posing me, and next thing I knew his hand was down my pants.”  

Y/N inhaled deeply, her brow furrowing as her hands shook.  Bucky opened his eyes slowly and then looked at her.  “He touched me.  And I freaked.  Smashed his camera, screamed the whole way out.  By the time I made it back to Olympus I just couldn’t face what had happened.  I didn’t know how to tell Tony, who to talk to, what to do.  So I just quit and started being a free agent.”

Y/N’s eyes started to brim with tears out of frustration and sadness.  “I’m so sorry, Bucky.  Hydra has a reputation but if I had known I would have never sent you there.”

Bucky shook his head and turned toward her.  “It’s not your fault,” Bucky said and reached for her hands, helping smooth out her fists.  “It’s not anyone’s fault.  But you deserve to know, seeing as how you’ll have to communicate with them.  Olympus has always had contracts with Hydra, so I’m sure they won’t take the rejection well, losing a long term connection.  But I will not associate with them, or put any of our models in harm’s way.”

Y/N kept her gaze on his hands as they held hers, nodding as she tried to keep her emotions at bay.  “I was standoffish with you at the start,” Bucky conceded.  “I’m harboring some anger still.  But I know it’s not your fault.  Your work and networking connections speak for themselves, and I’m glad you’re my P.A.  You care about everyone here and the work we do.”

Y/N looked up at him finally, her eyes still sad but a small smile on her face.  “Thank you.”  She gripped his fingers a little tighter.  “I’m so sorry you went through that.  It’s one of my biggest fears for our models, and I just…I didn’t know.”

Bucky nodded, giving her a reassuring smile.  “Well now you do, and we can keep everyone else safe.”

Y/N nodded and slipped a hand away from him to dab at her eyes.  “God, I’m sorry,” she laughed.

“Don’t be,” Bucky laughed.  “I appreciate your concern.”

Y/N quickly sniffed then stood.  “Well,” she cleared her throat and walked back to the desk.  “Canceling that meeting will free up your Thursday lunch, so if there was a specific agency you were interested in we could reach out to them.  Tony always liked having open Fridays, so I haven’t scheduled anything for that day, but if you’d rather I can move some of the next Monday’s meetings over.  Also your mother’s birthday is in two weeks, and since she’s been traveling I got her itinerary and ordered her gift to be delivered in Romania when she gets there, though you’ll need to let me know whether she likes peach or pink roses.  Peach means gratitude, while pink means more along the lines of sweetness and refinement, and since it’s her 65th birthday it would be nice to do something representing that.  The thank you cards are ready for you to sign for all the gifts for your directorship here–”

“Free Fridays sounds great,” Bucky snickered.  “She loves pink.  I’ll sign those tomorrow.  Man, when you get going you just keep going, don’t you?”

Y/N snorted.  “You didn’t let me finish, but yes, I do.”

Bucky watched amusedly as she continued to rattle off everything for the foreseeable future.

***

“Hydra Modeling Agency, how can I help you?”

“Hi Elsie,” Y/N drawled in a sickly sweet voice over the phone.

“Ugh, what do you want?” Elsie scoffed.

“Just calling to tell you the meeting for Thursday is canceled,” Y/N sing-songed.

“Excuse me?” Elsie snorted.  “You can’t just cancel with Alexander Pierce.”

“Watch me,” Y/N said, her voice dropping low.  “And you can let him know that we will never be doing business with him or Hydra again.”

Elsie stuttered and she lowered her voice.  “You can’t just cancel contracts like that.  He owns half of the modeling world.  Do you seriously want to start this war?”

“Oh I think he’s got much bigger fish to fry than worrying about losing a measly little contract with us,” Y/N laughed, then hit send on her email.  She could hear the ping from Elsie’s computer on the other end of the line.  She waited until she heard a gagging sound.  “Do tell Alex the bitch from Olympus says hi, and if you could pass along a message to Brock…tell him to rot in hell,” she said, then hung up.

An hour later Bucky came out of his office with a look of shock on his face.  “Y/N, could I see you in my office?”

“Yes,” she smiled and grabbed her notebook.  She followed him into the office and he closed the door behind her.  She turned to him after she set the book down on his desk.  “So what did you—oof!”

Bucky hugged her, squeezing her tight as he tucked his face into the crook of her neck.  Y/N froze for a moment before she felt his body shaking with quiet sobs.  She quickly melted into his embrace, her hands looping behind him and caressing his back as she felt his tears start wetting her shoulder.  “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

“Nothing…nothing’s wrong,” Bucky muttered against her.  His fingers gripped the back of her shirt as he squeezed her again.  He pulled away after a moment and looked down at her.

Y/N’s heart ached to see him cry but he was smiling.  “Then why are you crying?” she huffed a laugh as her hands moved from his back to his face, wiping away the tears.

“I don’t know how you did it, but thank you,” Bucky smiled, sniffing quickly.  “I’ve been getting calls from multiple people for the past hour about that email you sent out.”  Y/N fought the smile on her face and looked away.  “I didn’t know that Rumlow assaulted so many other models.  You’ve done more to stop him in just minutes than I ever had the courage to in years,” he said quietly, biting his lip to stop it from trembling.  

Y/N pulled his hands from behind her and held them in front of her, her thumbs softly running across his knuckles.  “Like you said, I care about the people I work with.  Both in our agency and outside of it.  And I couldn’t stand the thought of him just out there, walking free and hurting other people.  So I made a few calls and sent a few emails,” she reached up and wiped a few more fallen tears, “talked to HR and our legal team, and a bunch of news outlets.  Nobody hurts my family and gets away with it.”

Bucky stared at her in admiration for a minute before looking at their entwined hands.  He moved his hands so he was holding hers instead and brought them up to his lips, kissing each hand before setting them back down.  “Thank you.”

Y/N was surprised by the affection but welcomed it.

[junepingu]

Adam x reader (hazbin hotel)

How you two met

Headcanons:

¦ First part ¦

The time that you passed with Adam were now really less than the first times, he noticed that and tried to cheer you up in every way, but he had an big... BIG ego, so that means that in public mostly and in private he was more Attached to you, he made more maschilist jokes and at the same time gave you a lot of gifts, you were going crazy...

Even if you didn't noticed that but he was really afraid of you in every way, your beautiful hair and your beautiful eyes that always looked up at him when he get closer, your wings that twich every time that he put a hand on you or just innocently Pinch your cheek to annoyed you, all of that big carcather that he has to carry on is just because his in reality very selfconscious, he never had more than two Women, ève and lilith that left him for lucifer.. After that he just tried to became stronger even if he liked someone he couldn't just show it as a normal person do, unfortunately...

One day he wanted to finally ask you out for real this time, so he prepared with the help of Lute a love letter, "looks like a child made this sir" Lute said smirking a bit "OH FUCK YOU LUTE! Im trying here bitch!", a little plushie that looked... Like him because when he was at work he thought that you would be alone for long so with that you would feel... Always.. his presence.. And a ring... The best part... It was a bright one.. Brought for This occasion, he was really anxious...

He was all prepared and wanted then to find you and make you the biggest happy person alive, he wanted to love you every day and make you feel alive... But... You weren't always around... Or maybe you weren't around as you used to.

He noticed that you tried always to walk away If by pure chance he crosses paths with you changed your path, at first he thought it was a coincidence but as he went on he understood that you wanted to move away, why? Why you too? What had he done wrong?... He didn't know but after some time he finally found you and wanted to confront you and understand what was going on...

He found you in the library of the church where all of angels and part of Heaven go to study.

Your paranoia was getting bigger and bigger, "why me?"... "surely he'll just want to use me"... "he's not what you think, he doesn't really love you, he's Adam the first man on heart, every girl are on his knees for him he'd never choose someone like me"...

Adam Fly all the way here and decided to talk with you, obviusly with his style, he entered the library and took a look around, you were obviusly sitting in a table in the corner alone.

He stare at you for a moment and decided to make his entrance "hey bitch what's up with you? You know who i am? You can't just disappear like that", he talked a little too much loud even because someone turned around and stare at you two in a pissed way, you were in a public library After all.

You just stopped reading and were surprised by his presence, he was now towering you with a hand on the table and the other pointed at you, you shush him and You pull it to a more secluded place, "h-hey what the fuck!" you finally looked at him in the eyes and spoke and a trembling sigh came out of your mouth "listen Adam... First of all you can't enter a library like that, and second of all why are you here? Don't you have something better to do?" he looked at you confused and a grin appered on his lips "ohh~ your cunt is in a bad mood today? I can fix that you know Im famous for my to-" you didn't let him finish and started to feel tears coming from your eyes "ENOUGH!" he froze "why you keep doing this?? Why?" your face was turning red "doing what" he whispered a little taken back by your sudden reaction "you always try to flirt with me in some ways and then you treat me like Im just a piece of meat, why you always bother yourself with me uh? Why you can't just leave me, i know that you have millions of girls that maybe are better at that! But im not like one of them! And if you just wanted to be my friend just for that maybe... Im sorry but no... I dont want to continue like this.." a first tear came out.

He was shocked, what did he do wrong? Someone made you think like this? You liked someone else?, in his mind everything was running fast every possibility to understand your sudden reaction, he started to speak again "what.. What does that mean? I never did something like that!" he starting to raise his voice in irritation "i was always the one to make things for you! I always tried to make everything possible what the hell do you think bitch! Im fucking Adam! Im perfect! And you should just appreciate that i choose you!".

You couldn't believe it... He said that, he could have been with someone else if it was not for you... Now is clear... Tears were running down your red cheeks... "oh...so that's why..." you started to cry, he stare at you panicking, you couldn't read his face for the mask "Im just a second.... Or maybe a the last choice for you?"... Your face was now purple and your troath was burning, you could see only a blurry figure in front of you for how much tears were forming... "w-what n-" you didn't want to hear him and so you Fly away faster as you could, you just wanted to Return home and forget all of him...

He was paralyzed.. He didn't know what happened, He had come looking for you to take you out to eat and finally declare himself, and all after a flap of wings disappeared in a second... He was the wrong one? He was the one that made you soffer? How? What did he do wrong?

After that evening he went back home were Lute was waiting "sir how did it go?" he didn't respond and just went to bed, Lute remain a little by his attitude... "sir?" "Fuck off Lute!" she just followed him and sit down on the bed silent.

After a while he looked at her and in a angry and pissed way he storm out "what the hell did i say? Just go away bitch! Go away and leave me alone like the rest of the world!" the last part came out broken... Something broke inside of him... He didn't know what was happening but started to sob in his pillow... "DONT STARE AT ME BITCH! DON'T-.. DON'T LOOK AT ME" She was approaching to hug him, she didn't say anything, she knew that at any moment he would explode..

He was buffering in the pillow and suddenly felt warm, the arms of Lute were around him, he tried to pull away sobbing and pissed "DON'-DON'TOUCH ME... *sob* DON'T... don't..." he lets go and stays in the embrace, and he starts crying and venting about what happened

After he vent for like 2 Hours he stayed like that with tired eyes... "sir... You need to find her and tell her what you feel, but you have to put aside your ego" he just pull away and in a pissed way said "i dont have an ego! And i can't she don't want to see me again after what i did... What i did wrong?" he asked, "sir if i have to be sincere you are always a piece of shit, with every one, you want the attention but can't get Attached with someone because you are afraid you Will lose them.. It's not like this that life works, you need to stand up and finally accept what you are, you are not only Adam.. " he stare at her," yes i am only Adam, the fucking first man that give life to all of them why they can't accept it!", "sir... You are not only that, i observ when you talked with y/n how your face change and how nervous you become, how you want to surprise her with little hand gifts, but too afraid to recieve her compliments.... You are not only Adam.. You are a human sir...", he became flustered and embarassed by the exact description of himself "wherever bitch..." there was a moment of silence... "Lute...?" he whispered "do you think... That... Im in time to go and talk with her?".

Lute push him out of the window "FUCKING FLY FAST SIR" he then fuck her off but was excited scared and all type of emotions he can have and Fly to your house as fast as he can "please don't leave me y/n, please dont leave me y/n please dont leave me y/n".

He finally arrived... He was about to faint from how fast he went, while he was catching his breath he landed on your balcony, and knocked 5 Times, The fifth was a spasm of the lungs.

You were in your bedroom and started to take sleep when you heard 5 knocks on your window... You turn your head to see... "no.." Adam, you were a little susrpised but didn't want to open him, that would be rude so you stand up with a big groan and open slowly the window "what.." you asked in a cold tone.

This was all for the second part, i notice that you really liked the first so i thought that would be interesting put a little angst for this , if you want the third part let me know! Have a great day🫐

[rrrrinmaru]

picasso (marius x fem!reader) (nsfw)

wc: 5.7k rating: E warnings: nsfw, vaginal fingering, handjob, squirting, they're both freaks for each other

“I think it’s pretty,” you say plainly. “I like the look of it. I’ve always had a soft spot for ink wash works.”

The exhibit is held in a famous glass museum in downtown Stellis. There had been a controversy about the full glass walls and privacy issues a few years ago (you had read this case once, out of curiosity, and never again), but that was eventually resolved and now the first floor of the museum was regularly used for art exhibits. 

Before you knew Marius’ secret identity, you had invited him to visit one of Z’s exhibits. And Marius, the most shameless man to ever walk this Earth, had agreed. 

Fortunately, you learnt about this secret before you bought tickets for the exhibit. Not that you wouldn’t want to see his works displayed in the gallery, but the thought of you gushing over Z’s artwork in front of Marius without knowing the truth… 

It’s embarrassing. 

Today, however, it’s a different artist’s work on display. Thomas Mikeden, a foreign painter who’s been going on an exhibit world tour. Stellis is his latest stop, and everything just lined up. Both of you had the day off and tickets were on sale. You had invited Marius to the exhibit, excited to hear his artistic insight about the paintings, but Marius has been… a little petulant.

“I can’t believe we’re looking at a Mikeden painting,” he mutters, arms folded across his chest. “The first time you invite me to an art exhibit and it isn’t even mine; I can overlook that, but Mikeden?”

“What do you have against him?”

“We’re friends,” Marius says solemnly, looking like he doesn’t even believe the words coming out his mouth, “but we suffer from creative differences. Severe creative differences. If I ever have to see the way he mixes his oil paints again, I’d end up on the news for criminal activity. And he said if he ever had to see me try to sculpt a pot again, he’d wring my neck himself. He said my clay pots were an abomination against God.”

You blink at him. “You know how to do pottery?”

“According to him, I don’t.”

And suddenly, you get it. Creative differences, more like a bunch of children arguing over who does something right, or who does something better. Like kindergarteners fighting over whose parent made them the better lunchbox. 

“What are your thoughts on his ink wash painting?” 

Marius gives you an appraising look. “Not his worst work. He’s alright with ink wash. I've personally dabbled in ink wash before. It’s not my preferred medium, but we learnt it as part of our curriculum.”

You turn to look at him, eyes bright. “Really? Do you still have those ink wash paintings hidden away somewhere?”

“Of course. I never throw my works away. I’ll bring you to one of my storage warehouses one day.” 

One of his storage warehouses? It never occurred to you that painters would need a lot of space to store their paintings, even more so if they were particularly diligent and practiced different painting techniques often. With how many easels and canvases were strewn about Marius’ house, you suppose you should have made the connection.

“I’m looking forward to it.” 

The next few works are insightful, to say the least. Marius gets up close and personal with one of them to sneakily point out to you a place where Mikeden allegedly made a mistake and had spent hours trying to cover it up. 

“This is from when he tried to lean into the Baroque style,” Marius says, using his thumb to frame certain parts of the painting to draw your eye to them. “The colors here, see, the stark contrast between the light and the dark? That’s the use of tenebrism, popularised by Caravaggio.”

“Hm,” you note, eyes wandering around the painting. It’s a stunning piece of work, and Mikeden captured the likeness of the male form well. The extreme contrast almost seems to frame the figures with a halo, a light that blooms from their very center to strike at the viewer’s attention. “They’re quite handsome.”

Marius makes a sound at the back of his throat. “You’re more into modern men, jiejie.”

You hide your laugh behind a cough. He’s like a needy kitten pawing at you for attention, and you’re helpless against someone this cute. 

“Yes, yes, look at how handsome you are,” you say, turning around to face him head-on. You reach out, smoothing the non-existent creases away from his button-down. 

Without really thinking too deeply, your fingers linger on the stretch of the fabric across his chest—the thought that you can see them if you squint hard enough comes unbidden to your mind. The small bumps under the fabric, stiff from the slight chill of the room. 

It’s the kind of thought that grips you by the throat, sitting in your mind and taking up space, holding you captive until you do something about it. 

You brush your thumb against one of them, just because they’re right there, because you can, because Marius’ hands are on your hips and you’re feeling a little… playful. 

Immediately, a hand catches your wrist. It doesn’t stop you from pressing the pad of your thumb lightly against that raised bump, and Marius’ breath hitches. His fingers flex against your wrist, hard enough that you can’t help but smile. 

He’s usually the one making you flush in public, so you mark this as a victory. The sight of him, red-faced and pouting, heart pounding so desperately you can feel it through his chest—you pull your hand back, and he lets you go. That hand drops back to your waist as you bring your thumb to your lips, and you hold Marius’ gaze as the tip of your tongue darts out to lick your thumb.

Marius goes still. It’s as if he’s nothing more than one of the paintings hung up on the gallery walls, with how still he is; his pupils are blown wide and he gives you this shaken look, as if you’ve completely disarmed him. Swept him off his feet and left him grasping at straws to find the words to say. 

Eventually, you go back to smoothing out his shirt. Properly, this time. No messing around.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Marius murmurs, his breath puffing against the curve of your throat as he leans down. His voice is soft, barely louder than a whisper, but it somehow feels deafening in the quiet of the room. 

Your hands tighten around the front of his shirt. “Marius?”

“Be quiet for a moment,” he says. His fingers rest on your hips and you swear you can feel the heat radiating off his palms. It makes you want to shuffle away, pull back and put some space between the both of you—he doesn’t do anything, doesn’t tighten his grip, but his hands somehow get heavier. Like a weighted blanket resting around your waist, shackles holding you in place without really holding you at all. 

Your heart kicks in your chest. It isn’t often that Marius gets this way, so quiet and possessive, like he has to cage you in a small corner and watch you to make sure you don’t get away. His forehead rests against your clavicle—it’s not a comfortable position, not when he’s so much taller and he’s pressed up so closely against you that you can feel the way his chest shivers when he drags in a long breath. 

“Jiejie,” Marius whispers, voice quiet. “Sometimes, I wish I could wrap you up like a piece of art and hang you on my wall.”

He’s crazy, you think, and you realise even your subconscious thoughts have taken on this air of fondness when thinking of him.

“Is that so?” You reply, voice just as hushed. From the corner of your eye, you can see another patron glance at the both of you—they glance away, then look back, as if doubting their gaze. Yes, you think weakly to yourself, Marius is indeed clinging to you in the middle of a public gallery for expensive artworks that easily go for three times the price of your apartment. “Which wall will you put me up on?”

This time, Marius’ grip tightens imperceptibly on your hips. “Any wall that jiejie wants to be put up on,” he says huskily. His voice has dropped an octave, and the tone he takes is one that you’ve become very familiar with when you tease each other. Never enough to really commit to anything, not yet, but enough that Marius gets that look in his eyes like he’d very much want to stop being a gentleman about things. 

Abruptly, you notice the double entendre. “Marius!”

“You asked,” he says smugly, lifting his head so you come face to face with the smirk pulling at his lips. He tugs you in to press your body fully up against his, hip to shoulder. “Is jiejie shy now? I can tell you about which walls I’ve thought about you up on—my bedroom, naturally, but the living room is a strong contender.”

You gape at him, too shocked to say something smart in return. “You—! Not so loud, we’re in public!”

“No one’s listening.” Marius tilts his head, giving the surroundings a cursory once over before catching your gaze. “They’re busy looking at the art on display. I’m looking at a different kind of art on display.”

He’s so shameless that it makes you want to burst out in laughter. A different kind of art on display? Who does he think he is, a host from a host club? Where did he learn these phrases from? The Internet? His brother? Worse, Vyn? 

The thought of Marius asking the one and only Vyn Richter for advice on how to pick girls up makes you laugh. 

“You think you’re so smooth,” you say helplessly, lips curving up of their own accord as you reach up to loop your arms around Marius’ neck. “You think I’m going to fall for that?”

“I’m not a gambling man,” Marius tells you, a confident glint in his eye, “but I’ve always been lucky.” 

He puts up a strong front, but you know better. The back of his neck is hot from embarrassment. The tips of his ears are flushed red. You brush a stray strand of hair past the shell of his ear and pinch the crimson tip along the way. 

“Jiejie,” Marius whines, caught in the act. “Come on, let me pretend for a bit. Don’t you want to come home with me and have a better time?” 

He gives you this beseeching look, brows furrowed and lips turned down. You’re weak to that look—it’s suckered you into agreeing to far more things than you normally would have agreed to. But how can you say no to a face like that? To a man built like that, shoulders so broad they could dwarf you in a hug, fingers so long they could encircle your wrist, a face like God himself came down to carve it from marble—when Marius looks at you with that pleading gaze, millimeters away from begging, how can you say no to anything he asks for? 

Perhaps a stronger man would be able to resist the power of Marius’ visual attack. But you never proclaimed to have a strong willpower, and you fold like a castle of cards in a stiff breeze. 

“Let’s finish looking at all the works first. And no, just because you know who the artist is and insist that you could bring me over to his studio to see his other works—that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see the works exhibited here.”

“His art isn’t even that good,” Marius says, just to be contrary. “If you really wanted to see something from him, you should see his sculptures. I’ll admit those are impressive.”

“Finish the gallery, and then we can go home. You get to pick dinner.”

He perks up. “Italian or Chinese?”

“Later,” you insist. “I want to see this painting—” you glance at the title, raising an eyebrow when you catch sight of it, “—Lotus III.”

“Inspired by the same lotus garden that was featured in Lotus 0, Lotus I and Lotus II,” Marius grumbles as he takes one hand off your waist. You slide your hands down his shoulders, his chest, and furtively pat him on the ass before letting him go. 

He jumps, eyes wide as he swivels his head around to look at you. You give him an innocent look in return. 

“If you insist on being naughty, jiejie, don’t be surprised if I snatch you away and kidnap you back home.” The hand still on your waist squeezes in warning, and heat slithers down your back at the tone in his voice. 

You put a hand over the one on your waist, sliding your fingers in between his. “Be good.”

“Good boys get rewards. Is there a reward waiting for me later, jiejie?”

Naughty, you think to yourself, side-eying him. There’s a charming smile on his face, not even bothering to hide the playfulness lurking beneath his eyes. He’s testing you, pushing and pulling at your limits to see how far you can bend over backwards. 

“Maybe,” you reply. It’s never a good thing to reveal all your cards too early when dealing with a von Hagen in a playful mood. 

Marius laughs, leaning in to press his lips against the side of your head. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

The way he practically attaches himself to your hip, thumb rubbing possessively over your waist—you can’t help the flush crawling up to your cheeks, or the heat that flares between your legs. His hold on you isn’t tight, but it isn’t loose either. It reeks of a promise, and you can’t help but look forward to what that will happen once the two of you get back to his house. Or what will happen once you get into his car, when Marius has you right where he wants you to be and there’s enough privacy for something to happen. 

You shift, thighs rubbing together involuntarily at the stray thought. Desire slips through your body like a snake coiling in your veins; if you cling a little tighter to Marius in return, your mind only half-focused on the works displayed on the walls, well, no one will know. 

You think Marius might suspect something, though, going by the way his smirk grows larger with every glance he shoots you from the corner of his eye. 

Like he’s found something he can’t take his eyes off. Like he’s found something he likes. 

You fail to give Mikeden the attention his works deserve for the rest of the time you spend in the gallery, but he’s truly friends with Marius then you think the man won’t mind too much.

==

To your surprise, Marius doesn’t immediately scoop you into his lap when you get into the car. 

He leans over to help you pull the seatbelt, and very conveniently buries his face in your neck for half a second before he pulls back. Long enough for him to press his lips against your collarbone, the tip of his tongue swiping wetly against your skin; short enough for you to wonder if you hallucinated it.

But the smug look in his eyes as he pulls the seatbelt over your chest to click it into place tells you that you most definitely did not hallucinate it. 

“Home first,” Marius tells you, pretending to be casual as he leans back in his seat and does his own seatbelt. “If you keep looking at me with those eyes, jiejie, I can’t promise I’ll keep my hands to myself while we’re on the road back.”

Right, you think dazedly. You’d forgotten Marius had decided to drive the both of you here—it wasn’t far from his place, and the both of you typically take a chauffeured car, but Marius wanted to do something special today. You haven’t been on a date in a while due to your unfortunate work schedule, and it definitely surprised you when Marius pulled up to your apartment in the driver’s seat, the window wound down, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he grinned at you. 

“What a shame,” you murmur under your breath, watching as he does his own seatbelt before pulling out of the parking lot. 

Your words make Marius stiffen. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, one hand resting lazily on the steering wheel as the other finds its way to your knee. 

Again with that loose grip that feels like a shackle holding you in place. Marius isn’t doing anything more than just placing his hand over your knee—there’s not even any real pressure behind, no force or flexing or tightening of his grip, but you feel weighed down. You feel held down.

You wonder, a little stupidly, if Marius would do something if you spread your legs apart. 

But you’re on the road. Despite the heat flaring insistently in your gut, you’re not actually ready to risk it all while Marius is behind the wheel. It would have been a different story if the both of you were in the back seat with the partition drawn up. The ride back is what, ten, fifteen minutes? There’s a lot you can get done in that period of time.

Right as you resign yourself to a normal, quick ride back home, Marius’ hand slips a little.

Just a little. It’s so subtle that if it weren’t for the heat practically bleeding through his palms, you think you wouldn’t have noticed. 

His hand goes from right above your knee to cupping the inside of your knee. 

You eye him speculatively. Was it inertia? The car made a turn and his hand simply slipped with the centrifugal force? 

His lips quirk up. “I’ll get shy if you keep looking at me, jiejie. I need to focus on the road.”

“Hm,” you say, feeling your cunt clench involuntarily when Marius’ hand moves further up your thigh. It’s not in direct contact with your skin, not when there’s your silk dress in between, but the material is thin and you swear you can feel the calluses from Marius’ fingers rubbing gently against the sensitive inside of your thigh. 

Fifteen minutes, you think. Surely you can’t die from a little fun on the road. 

“Your hand’s on the wrong place,” you murmur, gently placing your hand over his. 

Marius hums at the back of his throat. “Ah? Sorry, I—jiejie.”

You lift his hand off your thigh for a quick moment, draw apart the slit of your dress, and slide his hand under the fabric.

Directly on your thigh. You even curve his fingers back down so he can maintain that grip on you.

You can see his fingers flex. They’re stiff, knuckles tense as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself. When you peek at him, his ears are flushed a bright red and his Adam’s Apple bobs furiously, like he’s swallowing desperately. 

And right between his thighs, you can see a tent in his trousers. You kind of want to reach out to touch it, but you hold yourself back. 

“Jiejie,” he whines, and chances a glance at you before reluctantly dragging his eyes back to the road. “I was joking—you can’t distract me while I’m driving.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you say mildly, burying the laugh that threatens to escape when his fingers squeeze pointedly around your thigh. The grave you dug is for both of you; his hand is higher now, on your thigh, so close to your core that one road bump would probably be reason enough for his fingers to slide right home. 

You almost want to pretend to jerk forward. But you have enough of your wits about you to recognise that if Marius felt the heat of your pussy through your panties press up against his fingertips at this moment, he would probably drive the car into the nearest building. 

“I’m trying to be good,” Marius complains. His fingers keep twitching against your skin, as if he’s really, physically holding himself back from doing something. 

“Good boys get rewards,” you echo, patting the back of his palm. “We’re almost home, see the gates up in front?”

He clicks his tongue. “As if I can focus on anything right now.” To prove his point, he speeds up, leg bouncing impatiently as he turns into the driveway. “Park, I have to park…”

The whole time, his hand doesn’t leave your thigh. And there’s something really sexy about it, you can’t help but realise—the slant of his jaw from the side, the way driving comes so easily to him, where he only needs one hand to maneuver the wheel. Even the way he looks over his shoulder as he eases into his parking spot makes you want to press your thighs together in a useless attempt to stave off the heat building in your core. 

“Good enough,” Marius declares, switching the engine off. “Out, out, come on—”

He snaps the seatbelt off and practically flies out the car. You’re so taken aback that you’re still in your seat when he comes to your side and yanks the door open, petulance written all over his face when he finds you still strapped in. 

“C’mon,” he whines, reaching over to unbuckle your seatbelt. “Jiejie, come on, come on—”

“Impatient,” you chide, even as you reach out to steady yourself while you exit the car. “Hold on, my heels—”

“Jiejie,” Marius says, and he seriously sounds like he’s about to burst. 

In that split second, you make a decision. Your panties are ruined as is, and you really, really want to be filled right now. You’re not sure if you can make the distance from the car to the lift, especially when the garage is so fucking huge—

“Backseat,” you murmur, and Marius reacts much faster than you expect. He pulls you up and into his chest, making you let out a sound of surprise at how aggressive he is, but he’s surprisingly gentle when he cups your jaw and slants his lips over yours. 

It’s a desperate kiss. Marius licks into your mouth, hands tight around your waist as he pulls you in close. The bulge in his slacks feels like it’s burning a brand into your hip—you want to skate your hands down, cup that swollen cock and rub your thumb over the tip. You’ve never seen it, not yet, but the two of you have fooled around every now and then so you’re somewhat familiar with the curve of his cock through his pants. 

It’s a hefty weight in your fingers, and Marius always makes the most delicious sounds when you rock your hips against him, squeezing around his thigh between your legs as you trace over the outline of his cock. 

“Fuck,” Marius curses. His fingers dig greedily into the sides of your body—the grip now is entirely different from the one at the museum. The positions are roughly the same, but this time he holds you like he’s trying to burn his brand into you, leave an imprint of bruises around your waist so you ache every time you move tomorrow morning. “Fuck, jiejie, your mouth—”

“Mmhmm,” you hum into his mouth, shoving one thigh between his legs so you can get a good seat on Marius’ thigh. It’s as if Marius has a direct line of sight into your mind—he hikes you up on his thigh so the hard line of his muscle presses right into the swell of your clit, and you groan out loud as you start rocking against his thigh. 

Fuck, you think you could cum like this. Marius’ hands have dropped lower, cupping the curve of your ass and every squeeze he makes goes straight to your cunt like there’s a livewire connection. He pulls you so high up that you’re struggling to keep your toes on the ground, and Marius is practically pulling you back and forth on his leg, helping you rut against him. 

His breath is hot. His kisses are searing, and it feels like there’s a nonstop feedback loop where your arousal pours into each other over and over again. It’s a fire in your gut, threatening to eat you alive, and when he pulls back to catch his breath, he immediately bows down to lick against your jaw. 

Marius sucks at your skin, bullying a bruise into the underside of your jaw. He isn’t satisfied with just one, and he just keeps going down the expanse of your neck, biting at any patch of unblemished skin. 

“Baby,” you whisper, one hand trailing down to press your palm over the tight bulge begging for attention. The lightest touch is enough to make Marius groan, hips stuttering as he chases your touch. “Can I—can I touch?”

Marius freezes for a heartbeat. Before you can second guess yourself, he moans into your neck, hips jerking as he pushes his clothed cock into your palm. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, nodding while avoiding eye contact with you.

His ears are crimson. So cute, you can’t help but think through the fever in your mind. It’s almost too easy to find your way around the button in his pants, and there’s some trouble with getting the zipper down from how hard he is. His briefs get caught for a moment, long enough to make Marius groan from frustration, but you shush him with another slide of your hips, cunt wet enough to drench his slacks, and Marius shuts up. 

“Good boy,” you murmur breathlessly, arching your back so you get a better angle to grind your clit against his thigh. “Be good, come on, let me—”

Unfortunately, there are no flaps in briefs for you to pull his cock out from. You reach in instead, shivering at the proper weight of it in your palm—skin on skin, you think deliriously to yourself, cunt clenching at the feeling of Marius’ cock in your hand. His cock, so thick that you can’t even really wrap your fingers around it properly, and the head is dripping. 

Marius sucks in a tight breath, cursing as he cants his hips up, almost bouncing you on his lap from the force. 

“Jiejie,” he begs, plaintive and desperate. “Nngh, please, the tip, you need to—fuck, I’m not going to—I’m going to cum, jiejie…”

And you stop thinking. You grab one of his hands and drag it to your front, so commandingly that Marius’ head flies up. His eyes are red, lips parted as he sucks in a shaky breath every time you swipe your thumb across the sensitive slit at the head of his cock. 

“In, inside,” you whine, rising as high as you can go on your toes. It’s not very high, given how far up Marius has pulled you onto his thigh, but it’s enough for your to drag his long fingers under your skirt and press them up against your cunt. 

Marius’ eyes are blown wide. “In-inside?” He stammers, fingers crooking automatically to press against the throbbing bud of your clit. Such clever fucking fingers, already familiar with the shape of your cunt to know where your clit is. 

Without needing much direction, he uses two fingers to drag your soaked panties to the side and rubs the knuckle of his index finger against your pussy. 

“A-ah,” you cry out, hips jerking. Fuck, you understand now why Marius reacted like that when you got your hand on his cock—there’s something about the texture of his skin, the calluses on his fingers that’s stroking the sides of your pussy, the sheer heat radiating off him—and the knowledge, the knowledge that it’s his hands on your cunt. After months of frotting, the most you’ve done being Marius’s palm flat against your cunt while you held eye contact and grinded against his shaking palm until you cummed—

“Inside, baby, come on,” you plead, rocking your hips insistently against his curious fingers. 

Again, it’s like Marius gets you. He sinks his index finger in; you think he wanted to go slow, because he tentatively pressed up into your cunt, but you’re greedy and you’ve been thinking of being filled since Marius made that joke about putting you up against a wall and you whine, rocking forward until you sink down, down, all the way down to the base and Marius’ breath is hitching in his throat. 

“You’re—” his finger bends, the tip brushing against this spot inside you that makes your entire body shiver, threatening to bend in half from the electricity that surges through you. “Shit, you’re—fuck, jiejie, you feel fucking incredible.”

“One more,” you beg, holding his wrist in place while you clench around his finger. Christ, you didn’t think it could feel this good. It’s so foreign, so much longer and thicker than your fingers—and again, the knowledge that it’s Marius’ hand, Marius’ finger is enough to make your gut tighten and sparks burst at the very end of your fingertips. “One more and my—”

You break off, thighs trembling when he swipes against your swollen clit with his thumb.

Marius groans at the sight of you, leaning in to bite at your lips. “One more and my thumb on your clit? Is that what you want, jiejie? Is that what you need?”

“Mmhmm—ahhhhhn, fuck, Marius—please, please, I’m so fucking close—!”

You’re not even sure if you’re still stroking the length of his cock. All your senses have narrowed down to your cunt, the pressure on your clit and the way his fingers have gained confidence with every stroke—he fucks up into you with such surety, so certain that he knows exactly where to hit to get that same, body shivering reaction from you.

The worst part is, he does. It barely takes one, two, three strokes while he whispers filthy things about how hot and wet and slick your cunt is, about how it’s soaked through just for him, about how he wants to bury his face in it, please jiejie, please let him put your thighs around his ears and eat you out, and you’re gone. 

It hits you so hard you think you almost pass out. The ascent comes too quickly; it almost feels like the orgasm is ripped from you from clever hands that know you better than you know yourself. It leaves you breathless, your entire body jerking uncontrollably as you whine, pussy clenching around those two thick fingers buried in your cunt. You’re mumbling nonsense, not even sure what you’re saying as your cunt gushes around Marius’ ruined pants and when you resurface, Marius looks at you like you’re the second coming of Christ.

It takes you both a while to get your breathing under control. Marius recovers first, gently sliding his fingers out of your cunt. You’re a little embarrassed at the absolute mess you’ve made, but Marius eyes the wetness dripping over his palm, down his wrist, and decides to drag his tongue along his skin to lick it all up.

He even looks right as you as he does it. The sight is enough to make your clit throb, as if gearing up for a second round. Oh, you could definitely do a second round, but you think you’d prefer for it to be in a room with a bed and not a garage.

Almost absentmindedly, you start to rub your thumb against the cockhead in your grip.

“F-fuck,” Marius groans lowly, free hand reaching out to grab your wrist. “Wait, wait—nnngh, sensitive. Give me a moment.”

You pause. You look down.

His briefs are stained. There’s a massive wet spot at the front, and when you drag your fingers out, they’re coated in a sticky, white fluid. 

You look Marius in the eye as you, too, lift your fingers to your lips. You stick your tongue out, wiping the threads of cum on your tongue so Marius can see how white looks in your mouth—and he flushes even redder than he already is, eyes darting away before darting back, as if he can’t decide whether he wants to look or not—and then you swallow. 

Marius is speechless for a while. 

“That was really hot,” he says eventually, voice hoarse. “I—fuck, jiejie, I can go again. I’m serious, just give me a minute.” 

You suck on your fingertips for a moment. You’re clearly ready for a second round, but you know he gets more desperate when you keep him hanging. And a desperate Marius is always a delight to work with. 

“Bedroom?” You suggest, and your cunt tightens at the way his eyes immediately go dark with desire.

==

© rrrrinmaru 2024 | no unauthorised publication or reproduction allowed

[buds-and-baubles]

(agent grayson 2014-2016 issue #1)

i felt like this panel was a good way to show how reading this made me feel.

before i get to what i feel about how it treated midnighter, i just want to say.. i am so sorry to dick grayson and helena bertinelli for being in this comic series. i'm sorry for the spyral plot. i didn't do it but somebody gotta apologize to those two.

as for midnighter? a very long array of me going like 'he would not fucking say that' which i'll explain below. also i didn't miss the chin spike at all and where is my favorite freak's smile when he fights? they made him grumpy.

it feels like some of the dialogue gets close to understanding how he is, but just tacks on pieces he wouldn't actually say. i'll provide an example that ties into another point of why he wouldn't say a particular word for what he said;

original text bubble: "not bad, boy. i can read the electrical activity inside that pretty head. no superpowers. no meatware. but you found me anyway."

how i would've written what midnighter said: "i can read the electrical activity inside your head. no superpowers, no meatware, but you found me anyway. not bad, kid."

see to me, that sounds more like how midnighter talks. he typically prefaces things with statements.

example from the authority (1999-2002) issue #2 with one of his most famous text bubbles: "i know what moves you're preparing to make. i've fought our fight already, in my head, in a million different ways. i can hit you without you even seeing me."

as for calling his head pretty? no. he wouldn't do that. i'll be repeating this as i read this series but he would not flirt or sexualize dick grayson. he never has done that to others before the new 52 from everything i've read up to (i am finishing the worldstorm arc) because it is strictly against his character. he isn't the sort to do that to another man. you want an example of why i say that?

here's a line paraphrased (because fuck ennis and his homophobia) from midnighter (2006-2008) issue #5 that helps support it: "what it means is that i'm only interested in men. one man in particular."

he's talking about apollo. his husband, his sun god, his other half. he's the only man for him and he's an utter sap about it! everytime he sees him he gives him a compliment. he's so in love it makes me so happy to the point i get nauseous in a good way.

so to all the dick grayson fans who've read agent grayson and hate it for dick's sexualization, i just wanted to let y'all know that midnighter wouldn't be doing that to him. in fact, he'd let him know he doesn't deserve it or have to take it for the sake of the job. body talk by kermit_coded on ao3 (ily friend) approaches it exactly how i would've.

so all in all, he wouldn't flirt with dick or sexualize him in any way, and he'd say less of the goofy lines he said in this. not that he can't be goofy, but it's a more.. violent goofy i guess.

so why would midnighter be there following my idea not tying to the garden or anything? well, midnighter hunting down random shit like people put under surgery to become meta bio-weapons still feels up his alley. considering him and apollo did something similar back in their first ever comic appearance in stormwatch vol 2.

where's apollo then? well, he was following up on a lead about other possible meta bio-weapons on his own and then he and m were gonna go out to dinner with jenny q. to celebrate. sadly, the fates (dick grayson) had him get hit with a laser that shot him away team rocket style. now he's gonna miss dinner with his family.

[thesublemon]

best picture

For the first time in a long time, I watched all of the movies nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars this year. Partly on a whim, partly for a piece I’ve been working on for a while about what is going wrong in contemporary artmarking. I cannot say that the experience made me feel any better or worse about contemporary movies than I already felt, which was pretty bad. But sometimes to write about a hot stove, you gotta put your hand on one. So. The nominees for coldest stove are:

Poor Things. Did not like enough to finish. I always want to like something that is making an effort at originality, strangeness, or style. Unfortunately, the execution of those things in this movie felt somehow dull and thin. Hard to explain how. Maybe the movie’s motif of things mashed together (baby-woman, duck-dog, etc) is representative. People have been mashing things together since griffins, medleys, Avatar the Last Airbender’s animals, Nickelodeon’s Catdog, etc. Thing + thing is elementary-level weird. And while there’s nothing wrong with a simple, or well-worn premise, there is a greater burden on an artist to do something interesting with it, if they go that route. And Poor Things does not. Its themes are obvious and belabored (the difficulty of self-actualization in a world that violently infantilizes you) and do not elevate the premise. There’s a fine line between the archetypal and the hackish, and this movie falls on the wrong side of it. It made me miss Crimes of the Future (2022), a recent Cronenberg that was authentically original and strange, with the execution to match.

Anatomy of a Fall. Solid, but not stunning. The baseline level of what a ‘good’ movie should be. It was written coherently and economically, despite its length. It told a story that drew you along. I wanted to know what happened, which is the least you can ask from storytelling. It had some compelling scenes that required a command of character and drama to write—particularly the big argument scene. The cinematography was not interesting, but it was not annoying either. It did its job. This was not, however, a transcendent movie.

Oppenheimer. Did not like enough to finish. But later forced myself to, just so no one could accuse me of not knowing what I was talking about when I said I disliked it. I felt like I was being pranked. The Marvel idea of what a prestige biopic should be. Like Poor Things, it telegraphed its artsiness and themes and has raked in accolades for its trouble. But obviousness is not the same as goodness and this movie is not good. The imagery is painfully literal. A character mentions something? Cut to a shot of it! No irony or nuance added by such images—just the artistry of a book report. The dialogue pathologically tells instead of shows. It constantly, cutely references things you might have heard of, the kind of desperate audience fellation you see in soulless franchise movies. Which is a particularly jarring choice given the movie’s subject matter. ‘Why didn’t you get Einstein for the Manhattan project’ Strauss asks, as if he’s saying ‘Why didn’t you get Superman for the Avengers?’ If any of this referentiality was an attempt to say something about mythologization, it failed—badly. The movie is stuffed with famous and talented actors, but it might as well not have been, given how fake every word out of their mouths sounded. Every scene felt like it had been written to sound good in a trailer, rather than to tell a damn story. All climax and no cattle.

Barbie. Did not like enough to finish. It had slightly more solidity in its execution than I was afraid it would have, so I will give it that. If people want this to be their entertainment I will let them have it. But if they want this to be their high cinema I will have to kill myself. Barbie being on this list reminds me of the midcentury decades of annual movie musical nominations for Best Picture. Sometimes deservingly. Other times, less so. The Music Man is great, but it’s not better than 8 1/2  or The Great Escape, neither of which were nominated in 1963. Musicals tend to appeal to more popular emotions, which ticket-buyers and award-givers tend to like, and critics tend to dislike. I remember how much Pauline Kael and Joan Didion hated The Sound of Music (which won in 1966), and have to ask myself if in twenty years I’ll think of my reaction to Barbie the same way that I think of those reviews: justified, but perhaps beside the point of other merits. Thing is. Say what you want about musicals, but that genre was alive back then. It was vital. Bursting with creativity. For all Kael’s bile, even she acknowledged that The Sound of Music was “well done for what it is.” [1] Contemporary cinema lacks such vitality, and Barbie is laden with symptoms of the malaise. It repeatedly falls back on references to past aesthetic successes (2001: A Space Odyssey, Singin’ in the Rain, etc) in order to have aesthetic heft. It has a car commercial in the middle. It’s about a toy from 60 years ago and politics from 10 years ago. It tries to wring some energy and meaning from all of that but not enough to cover the stench of death. I’d prefer an old musical any day.

American Fiction. Was okay. It tried to be clever about politics, but ended up being clomping about politics. At the end of the day, it just wasn’t any more interesting than any other ‘intellectual has a mid-life crisis’ story, even with the ‘twist’ of it being from a black American perspective. Even with it being somewhat self-aware of this. But it could have been a worse mid-life crisis story. The cinematography was terrible. It was shot like a sitcom. Much of the dialogue was sitcom-y too. I liked the soundtrack, what I could hear of it. The attempts at style and meta (the characters coming to life, the multiple endings) felt underdeveloped. Mostly because they were only used a couple times. In all, it felt like a first draft of a potentially more interesting movie. 

The Zone of Interest.Wanted to like it more than I did. Unfortunately, you get the point within about five minutes. If you’ve seen the promotional image of the people in the garden, backgrounded by the walls of Auschwitz, then you’ve already seen the movie. Which means that all the rest of the movie ends up feeling like pretentious excess instead of moving elaboration. It seemed very aware of itself as an Important Movie and rested on those laurels, cinematically speaking, in a frustrating way. It reminded me of video art. I felt like I had stepped through a black velvet drape into the side room of a gallery, wondering at what point the video started over. And video art has its place, but it is a different medium. Moreover video art at its best, like a movie at its best, takes only the time it needs to say what it needs to say. 

Past Lives. I’m a human being, and I respond to romance. I appreciate the pathos of sweet yearning and missed chances. And I understand how the romance in this movie is a synecdoche for ambivalent feelings about many kinds of life choices, particularly the choice to be an immigrant and choose one culture over another. The immigrant experience framing literalizes the way any choice can make one foreign to a past version of oneself, or the people one used to know, even if in another sense one is still the same person. So, I appreciate the emotional core of what (I believe) this movie was going for, and do think it succeeded in some respects. And yet…I was very irritated by most of its artistic choices. I found the three principal characters bland and therefore difficult to care about, sketched with only basic traits besides things like Striving and Being In Love. Why care who they’d be in another life if they have no personalities in this one? It’s fine to make characters symbols instead of humans if the symbolic tapestry of a movie is interesting and rich, but the symbolic tapestry of this movie was quite simple and straightforward. Not that that last sentence even matters much, since the movie clearly wanted you to feel for the characters as human beings, not just symbols. Visually, the cinematography was dull and diffuse, with composition that was either boring or as subtle as a hammer to the head.

Maestro. Did not like enough to finish. Something strange and wrong about this movie. It attempts to perform aesthetic mimicry with impressive precision—age makeup, accents, period cinematography—but this does not make the movie a better movie. At most it creates spectacle, at worst it creates uncanny valleys. It puts one on the lookout for irregularities, instead of allowing one to disappear into whatever the movie is doing. Something amateurishly pretentious in the execution. And not in the fun, respectable way, like a good student film. (My go-to example for a movie that has an art-school vibe in a pleasant way is The Reflecting Skin). There’s something desperate about it instead. It has the same disease as Oppenheimer, of attempting to do a biopic in a ‘stylish’ way without working on the basics first. Fat Man and Little Boy is a less overtly stylish rendition of the same subject as Oppenheimer, but far more cinematically successful to me, because it understands those basics. I would prefer to see the Fat Man and Little Boy of Leonard Bernstein’s life unless a filmmaker proves that they can do something with style beyond mimicry and flash.

The Holdovers. Did not like enough to finish. It tries to be vintage, but outside of a few moments, it does not succeed either at capturing what was good about the aesthetic it references, or at using the aesthetic in some other interesting way. The cinematography apes the tropes of movies and TV from the story’s time period, but doesn't have interesting composition in its own right. It lacks the solidity that comes from original seeing. (Contrast with something like Planet Terror, in which joyous pastiche complements the original elements.) The acting is badly directed. Too much actorliness is permitted. Much fakeness in general between the acting, writing, and visual language. If a movie with this same premise was made in the UK in the 60’s or 70's it would probably be good. As-is the movie just serves to make me sad that the ability to make such movies is apparently lost and can only be hollowly gestured at. That said, the woman who won best supporting actress did a good job. She was the only one who seemed to be actually acting.

Killers of the Flower Moon. The only possible winner. It is not my favorite of Scorsese’s movies, but compared to the rest of the lineup it wins simply by virtue of being a movie at all. How to define ‘being a movie’? Lots of things I could say that Killers of the Flower Moon has and does would also be superficially true of other movies in this cohort. Things like: it tells a story, with developed characters who drive that story. Or: it uses its medium (visuals, sound) to support its story and its themes. The difference comes down to richness, specificity, control, and a je ne sais quois that is beyond me to describe at the moment. Compare the way Killers of the Flower Moon uses a bygone cinematic style (the silent movie) to the way that Maestro and The Holdovers do. Killers of the Flower Moon uses a newsreel in its opening briefly and specifically. The sequence sets the scene historically, and gives you the necessary background with the added panache of confident cuts and music. It’s useful to the story and it’s satisfying to watch. Basics. But the movie doesn’t limit itself to that, because it’s a good movie. The sequence also sets up ideas that will be continuously developed over the course of the movie.* And here’s the kicker—the movie doesn’t linger on this sequence. You get the idea, and it moves on to even more ideas. Also compare this kind of ideating to American Fiction’s. When I said that American Fiction’s moments of style felt underdeveloped, I was thinking of movies like Killers of the Flower Moon, which weave and evolve their stylistic ideas throughout the entire runtime.

*(Visually, it places the Osage within a historical medium that the audience probably does not associate with Native Americans, or the Osage in particular. Which has a couple of different effects. First, it acts as a continuation of the gushing oil from the previous scene. It’s an interruption. A false promise. Seeming belonging and power, but framed all the while by a foreign culture. Meanwhile potentially from the perspective of that culture, it’s an intrusion on ‘their’ medium. And of course, this promise quickly decays into tragedy and death. The energy of the sequence isn’t just for its own sake—it sets up a contrast. But on a second, meta level it establishes the movie’s complicated relationship to media and storytelling. Newsreels, photos, myths, histories, police interviews, and a radio play all occur over the course of the movie. And there’s the movie Killers of the Flower Moon itself. Other people’s frames are contrasted with Mollie’s narration. There’s a repeated tension between communication as a method of knowing others and a method of controlling them—or the narrative of them—which plays out in both history and personal relationships.)

Or here’s another example: When Mollie and Ernest meet and he drives her home for the first time, we see their conversation via the car’s rearview mirrors. This is a bit of cinematic language that has its origins in mystery and paranoia. You see it in things like Hitchcock or The X-Files or film noir. By framing the scene with this convention, the movie turns what is superficially a romantic meet-cute (to quote a friend) into something bubbling with uneasiness and dread. This is not nostalgia—this is just using visuals to create effects. It doesn’t matter if you’ve seen anything that uses the convention before, although knowing the pedigree might add to your enjoyment. The watchfulness suggested by the mirrors and Ernest’s cut-off face will still add an ominous effect. It works for the same reason it works in those other things. Like the newsreel, it is a specific and concise stylistic choice, and it results in a scene that is doing more than just one thing.

In general, the common thread I noticed as I watched these nominees, was the tendency to have the ‘idea’ of theme or style, and then stop there. It’s not that the movies had nothing in them. There were ideas, there was use of the medium, there was meaning to extract. There were lots of individually good moments. But they tended to feel singular, or repetitive, or tacked on. Meanwhile contemporary viewers are apparently so impressed by the mere existence of theme or style, that being able to identify it in a movie is enough to convince many that the movie is also good at those things. The problem with this tendency—in both artists and audiences—is that theme and style are not actually some extra, remarkable, inherently rarifying property of art. Theme emerges naturally from a story with any kind of coherence or perspective. And style emerges naturally from any kind of artistic attitude. They are as native as script, or narrative, or character. A movie’s theme and style might not be interesting, just like its story or dialogue might not be interesting, but if the movie is at all decent, they should exist. What makes a movie good or bad, then, is how it executes its component parts—including theme and style—in service of the whole. When theme is well-executed it is well-developed. Contemporary movies, unfortunately, seem to have confused ‘well-developed’ with ‘screamingly obvious.’ A theme does not become well-developed by repetition. It becomes well-developed by iterationand integration. Theme is like a melody. Simply repeating a single melody over and over does not result in the song becoming more interesting or entertaining. It becomes tedious. However, if you modify the melody each time you play it, or diverge from the melody and then return to it, that can get exciting. It results in different angles on the same idea, such that the idea becomes more complex over time, instead of simply louder.

Oppenheimer wasprobably the worst offender in this regard. Just repeat your water drops, crescendoing noise, or a line about ‘destroying the world’, and that’s the same as nuance, right? Split scenes into color and black and white and that’s the same as structure, right? That’s the same as actually conveying a difference between objectivity and interiority (or another dichotomy) via the drama or visual composition contained in the scenes, right? When I watched many of these movies, I kept thinking of a behind-the-scenes story from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The story goes that Joss Whedon was directing Sarah Michelle Gellar in some scene, and when the take was over he told her how great she was, and that he could see right where the music would come in. And Gellar replied that if he was thinking about the music, he clearly wasn’t getting enough from her acting alone. This conversation then supposedly informed Whedon’s approach to “The Body,” a depiction of the immediate aftermath of death that is considered one of the best episodes of television ever made, and which has no non-diegetic music whatsoever. Not to imply that music is necessarily a crutch, or to pretend that “The Body” is lacking in other forms of stylization (it is a very style-ish episode). But more to illustrate the way that it is easy to forget to make the most of all aspects of a medium, particularly the most fundamental ones, once one has gotten used to what a final product is supposed to feel like. 

And that’s why most of these movies don’t feel like movies. They create the gestalt of a movie or a ‘cinematic’ moment—often literally through direct vintage imitation—without a sense of the first principles. Or demonstrating a sense of them, anyway. Who needs AI when the supposedly highest level of human filmmakers are already cannibalistically cargo-culting the medium just fine.

[1] “The Sound of Money (The Sound of Music and The Singing Nun).” The Pauline Kael Reader. (This book contains the full text of the original review, rather than the abbreviated review that I linked earlier.) 

[sailorstar9]

When Dealing With An Unreasonable Contractor...

F/N was the third generation of a sweets shop; the Raku-ame was once a Japanese-style sweets shop under her grandfather. However, after F/N's father graduated from the famous culinary institute in Portland, the Raku-ame became a store that made both Japanese and Western-style confectionery. The shop had many regular customers because it offered original branding and full-order packaging.

“I want 20 boxes of doriyaki with our logo.” a long-time customer placed their order.

“I want 30 boxes of assorted Western sweets for year-end gifts.” a middle-aged housewife ordered.

“Thank you very much for your patronage.” F/N bade the customers farewell after each sale.

The business was thriving, with orders constantly coming in.

As the third heir to Raku-ame, F/N was put in charge of the storefront; the clients loved her as a surrogate granddaughter.

But, there was one company that was a pain: Wide Wedding. It's the largest wedding hall in the prefecture, taking orders for wedding cakes and sweets, as well as pastries that were served at the cafe nearly every day. The Raku-ame was also asked to make sweets to serve at the dessert buffet during the reception.

F/N had known Wide Wedding since her father's generation; the person-in-charge in the beginning was mild-mannered and soft-spoken, generally a good person who took Raku-ame's convenience into consideration. But, after the predecessor retired, things started to go wrong. Ikeda, who was newly put in charge, was a man who looked down on the Raku-ame workers, calling them 'subcontractors'. Ikeda, who was the son of the director, had been acting arrogantly and F/N and her father father did not have a good impression on him. Since Ikeda was put in charge of business dealings, it made things difficult as he would often demand a lot of unreasonable things.

“I received an order to put an original branding on a drawstring.” Ikeda slammed a piece of paper with a design on it onto the Raku-ame's front counter. “Use this design.”

“This is for next next week's wedding, right?” F/N gave the wall calendar a quick glance. “It might be a little difficult...”

“You're a subcontractor and you're talking back?” Ikeda fumed.

“We'd need a special mould for the branding and it'll take at least a week for that specific mould to be made by a craftsman.” F/N argued.

“Then, why don't you just get on with it?” Ikeda fired back. “I asked you to do it, now you guys adjust it and make it work. Don't think just because you're cute I'd cut you any slack. I should warn you, my client is a well-known blogger. So, if you offend them, you'd never know what they might write on their blogs. My company's creditability is at stake. Make sure you brand it with this design. If you don't do as you're told, I'll cancel the contract. If we cut you off, it would be a huge blow to your business, wouldn't it? Then do it.”

Left with no choice, F/N's father had to ask the craftsman to make the mould on a super-express basis, managing to the delivery date.

After that, Ikeda continued to impose even more reckless demands.

“I'm going to ask for additional gifts.” Ikeda returned to Raku-ame once again.

“How many?” F/N asked, taking out a notepad.

“A hundred.” Ikeda replied. “They said they wanted to distribute them to clients who will not be attending. Get on with it.”

“When is the delivery date?” F/N asked.

“It's a weekend wedding, so two days.” Ikeda answered. “If you refuse, I'll ask another sweet shop to do it for me. I won't use your place from now on, if you're okay with it...”

“I understand.” F/N sighed. “We will make it on time.”

F/N's father and the other employees were angry, but knew that if they lost the contract with Wide Wedding,their sales will drop dramatically. So, they persevered and worked overtime and managed to meet the delivery deadline.

“If you can do it, don't say it's impossible from the beginning.” Ikeda scoffed at the delivery person.

After that, Ikeda kept asking for a change of the wedding cake's design at no additional costs, saying 'The customer's request has changed'. He even started to interfere with the ingredients, insisting 'Keep the price the same, but use better ingredients'.

As expected, F/N and her father were running out of patience; no matter how big the client was, there were boundaries that must be kept. After a family meeting, it was decided that they should renegotiate their contract with Wide Weddings.

“The weekend gifts; they were all cancelled.” Ikeda informed one day before the wedding, shrugging. “A client had a falling out. The wedding was cancelled.”

“We've already finished the products and there's only the wrapping left.” F/N protested. “If you cancel at this point, we'll have to charge you a cancellation fee.”

“Who cares about that?” Ikeda snorted. “I'm also in a rush because of a sudden cancellation, so don't bother me anymore.”

“That's not going to happen.” F/N stood her ground. “The cancellation fee is written in the contract. You get the cancellation fee from the customer. You can at least pay us the cancellation fee from there.”

“Shut up.” Ikeda barked. “I'm on the edge of my seat because of a disgusting customer. I've placed many orders from you. Stop making a big deal out of one cancellation. If you keep talking back to me, all future transactions are off the table. Now cancel the order.”

“I understand.” F/N gave Ikeda a calm smile. “If you insist that much, we have no choice. We cannot do business with anyone who does not pay the cancellation fee. We will not do any business with you in the future.”

“Do you know what you are saying?” Ikeda was puzzled. “If that's what you want, fine. I'll report your rudeness to my superiors and all business with you is off the table. You're going to pay for this. It's too late for regrets.” he spat out and left.

F/N knew Ikeda probably blew the whistle to either his boss or his father, saying that Raku-ame was to blame for everything. That month ended Raku-ame's contract with Wide Wedding and the reason F/N and her family wasn't panicking was because...

“You look stressed.” Chigiri entered the Raku-ame, bringing the Blue Lock contenders along with him.

“Hyoma...” F/N blinked at the redhead's surprise visit.

“Ikeda giving you trouble?” Chigiri guessed.

“What was your first clue?” F/N sighed.

“Take a break.” Chigiri planted a quick kiss on F/N's fringe. “I'll take over from here.”

“Say, F/N.” Mikage Reo addressed the Raku-ame heiress after everyone's purchases were packaged. “Chigiri mentioned your shop is the most reputable, long-established sweets shop in Kagoshima and the Mikage Corporation is looking to expand into Kagoshima. We intend to build a wedding hall here, therefore we're making the first move and inviting you as a full-time staff member.”

“Let me call my father out.” F/N retreated back and got her father out.

And with that, Reo made his pitch to F/N's father, with F/N's father handling the final contract signing weeks later.