#i know people who DID write fic like machines in college and their secret seemed to be incredibly skillful organization and scheduling

[pastafossa]

idk if this has been asked/answered before but do you go to school at the moment, pasta? if so, how do you balance writing & updating :,)

I do not, I've fortunately graduated and thus have more time! I did write fic while I was in college, admittedly, but to keep the balance with all the papers I needed to write, I was generally restricted to shorter fics. I think on my previous ao3 account, the longest story I wrote by wordcount was 30k, longest by chapter was 10 but just drabbles. Which is hilarious when you consider that the next time I tried a longer fic, I just jumped in and now it's 850k words.

But yeah, honestly, I'm sure there are some people who'd be able to write something this long, this regularly while in school buuuut... I'm not sure I'd have been one, cause I don't know if I'd have had the time. Even now that I'm done with school, I have to be very disciplined about writing - setting aside time to write/research, sometimes delaying other things I might want to do, writing even my brain is like 'meh don't feel like it'. Which is fine! Because I actively enjoy the process, even when it's difficult. I love the victorious feeling of getting a chapter done even when it's been a fight. And I want this to hoooopefully be my job one day, so I'm happy to get in the practice. But I won't lie that it's time-consuming and in some ways like an additional job if you want to get that many words written, edited, and then posted every week. I'm constantly writing or editing in grocery store lines, late at night, during breakfast or lunch, whenever and wherever I can, and it takes up a good chunk of my free time each week. You really have to love what you do, and when you do set aside a chunk of time to write, you need to force yourself to write. That gets easier as you go, fortunately, as you convince your brain 'uh yeah idgaf if you feel like it, you're vomiting words onto the page whether you like it or not'. I've beaten my brain with the You Will Fucking Write stick enough times that it knows to go when I say go, I don't care if it's rough or messy or clumsy, just get something out and fix it in editing, but that was a hard lesson to learn in the beginning. But learn that and you will save so much time.

I hope these little bits and pieces could help even if I'm out of school now!

[wincore]

sour tangerine | huang renjun

pairing: keyboardist!renjun x songwriter!reader

words: 15.3k

summary:  ‘i gave up on that sort of music,’ he’d said. but not like this. not when you’re there to grab his wrist and drag him into your ridiculous notions about music that make him want to tear all his hair out. huang renjun falls in love with two words that escape your lips, and now he has to pretend his cheeks aren’t caked in a blush as red as donghyuck’s guitar. maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to joining this band of idiots just for an incredibly cute songwriter.

themes: rock band!au, fluff, (mostly existential) angst, comedy-ish

warnings: making out, alcohol, college kids being college kids

song recs: hello sunshine - wetter // how to love - day6 // today - nell // rooftop - n.flying // what can i do - day6 // red - the rose // i loved you - day6 // leave it - n.flying // baby - the rose

a/n: nct dream 00 line rock band. that’s it. who wants to join my renjun cover literally any song by day6 agenda. if you think this is like a kdrama compressed into a fic i am so sorry but you are correct hsdksh also i do not know what it’s like to major in music or make music so... please bear with me.

special thanks to @insomni-writing​ for beta reading this ilysm!! and @cinanamon​ because your support made me actually finish this ily dude <3

With hair dyed blond and a stream of colourful words ready at the tip of his tongue, no one assumes Huang Renjun majors in classical music. Not when he’s threatening Lee Donghyuck by the vending machine, not when he’s pulling an arrogant half-smile by the semester-end results and certainly not when he’s hardly ever seen near an instrument as elegant as the grand piano.

If they heard him play it just once, they’d forget the rest.

He strikes the keys gently, and then all at once in a motion so very unique to him—and you know this, not because you were stalking him, but because you happened to get a very rare ticket to the national level performing arts concert (which you didn’t scam out of someone that time, you swear). Looking pristine in a clean tuxedo and with then dark hair swept to the side, Huang Renjun looked very much like an alien, like the words leaving his mouth and the things he’d do would be so unpredictable. 

You were right. 

Huang Renjun plays the piano like he’s not of this world. 

He plays soft rock tunes even better—which, this time, you know because you were, in fact, stalking him while he spent extra hours in the practice room. From the lazy smile on his face to the way he let himself loose (for once) in a hot pink hoodie he kept trying to cover with his bag all day, you knew he was perfect.

Out of all the miserably planned (and timed) situations you’ve pulled yourself into, this might just hit top 3. 

You’re going to convince Renjun to join your band.

Which is easier said than done, because Renjun is just as stubborn as you are, if not more. You’ve never wanted to smack someone so bad and neither have you ever contemplated the outcome of spontaneous fistfights as much. But as frustrated as he leaves you, you know you need him, or your picture-perfect plan will fall apart before you’ve even started to paint.

The first time you’d nudged him in class, he’d sent you a glare as soon as the question left your lips. You’d fought a pout, the warmth on your cheeks popping like firecrackers. But you’re not easily discouraged, no, not really, not ever. 

The second time, you’d spread your arms in front of him to get him to stop walking off, looking more of a lunatic than a college student (sometimes, what’s the difference?) and Renjun had pursed his lips and furrowed his brows in an expression more than annoyed. 

“Please!” you yelled, catching the attention of fellow students.

Renjun eyed your palms flat against each other, elbows raised in a most comical prayer and announced a “No” just as loudly before briskly walking away.

The third time, you’d sent Donghyuck, your lead guitarist, who you really shouldn’t have expected to perform better than you did. You know they’re friends, so that should have worked better, right? Wrong. Renjun had returned a pouting Donghyuck, complaining nonstop for two whole days afterwards and with a message from Renjun to “in the best of words, fuck off”.

You sigh, glancing at the time on your watch. This is your last time to book him for your ragtag rock band (still unnamed) and you’re going to leave him with no choice. You can do this. 

You tiptoe from one side of the corridor to the other, the large windows drenching you in an uncomfortable amount of sunlight. But you are quiet—you know how to be sneaky and you’d be lying if you said you’re not at least a little bit proud of it. Renjun stays at the senior practice room well into late afternoon and if the door was closed fully, you’d be hearing nothing of it.

The old model of electronic keyboards in the practice room, which made you wonder if electric instruments ever rust, now plays ringing clear. It’s not just the fondness with which your school’s beloved pianist plays it but the added charm of his structure, straightened enough to focus but relaxed just as much.

A few minutes pass by in quiet contemplation, as you run through your plan again. First, approach him with a friendly gesture, offer him your strawberry milk or something. Second, block every exit he might seek once you’ve cornered him. Third, spew that long speech you prepared—a pretty pile of words ought to move him. Right? If all else fails, you’re going to call in Jaemin as your secret weapon. The boy can charm a rock, and you hate to be doing that to anyone (even Renjun), but drastic situations call for drastic measures. You take a sharp breath.

Oh, he’s singing now?

You misstep over the marble flooring and the door creaks open a little too loud.

Shit.

The music stops. You take a good second to swear at yourself, well and full, before breathing in and entering the practice room with as much confidence as you can gather.

“Renjun!” you say, grinning wide and arms stretched as if you’re there to welcome him.

Renjun looks at you, surprise smeared across his face. He quickly picks up his bag, shaking his head at you as he makes his way towards the door.

“You- “

Instead of all your brilliant planning, you resort to pulling a disgruntled Renjun into a lonesome corner before he can leave. It would seem more of a threat than an invitation to join, you’ll admit, but right now, you need Renjun to not glare at you with a scowl so obvious. It’s not that his face makes you nervous, it’s the outcome of today’s attempt. The bright afternoon sun reaches his hair and the left side of his face, a warm hue over eyes that look at you with more than just mild annoyance. He wears a grungy dark jacket over his lightly coloured T-shirt and has the audacity to claim he doesn’t do rock.

“Are you trying to kidnap me or something?” he asks, adjusting the strap of his bag.

You quickly smack the wall so your arm blocks his way, though the impact of it makes you wince.

“Join me,” you say, looking at him, determination across your face though the sentence comes off more cult-ish than you’d want. 

Renjun takes a step back to look up and take a sharp breath.

“I already told you,” he says, raising his voice, “I don’t do that sort of music anymore.”

“Anymore?”

Renjun groans, lips shaped in perfect annoyance. “Just how long are you going to keep this up?”

He tries to escape you but you take a hasty step closer, his back hitting the wall with a thud. It’s not all that fun, getting people to join your band. It’s even less fun when Renjun’s cologne is a tad too minty for your tastes.

“I’ll do anything!” you say, pressing your lips tight as the pleading grows in your eyes.

“Anything?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes!” You jolt up straighter.

“Then leave me alone forever for the rest of my life.”

Renjun crosses his arms and you frown, a sigh lacing your lips till you bring yourself to look him in the eye again. It’s not yet time to pull out Jaemin, you’re not even sure if that will work, but you might just have something else. 

“Lee Chaerim!” you suddenly yell. “You like her, don’t you?”

It’s a long shot but if it works… 

Renjun’s cheeks dust pink and he takes a step back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. Bullseye. You fight a snort before he can catch you. Gods, he’s so obvious.

“Wh-what gave you that idea?” he retorts, pitch shooting higher before he recomposes himself. “She’s a classmate, idiot. And don’t yell her name!”

“Star pianist Lee Chaerim,” you wave your hand about. “Who wouldn’t have a crush on her? I mean you’re a close second though.”

Renjun raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “It’s really not…”

“I’ll score you a date with her!” you declare, grinning like a maniac. “If you join my band.”

Renjun sighs, shoulders sagging. “You’re really not going to drop this, are you?”

“Nope.” You shrug, popping the ‘p’ in a helplessly obnoxious manner. 

Renjun leans back against the wall, head tilting to look you in the eye as the frown grows prominent over his lips.

“And you think scoring me a date will make me want to join your…band?” Renjun snorts.

You shift your eyes awkwardly. “Well, I didn’t really paint you as the Romeo type either but hey, I don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“(name)?”

“Yes?”

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“Oh. That’s actually the sweetest thing I’ve heard from you,” you muse before quickly returning to the subject at hand. “Ah, come on. Just give it a chance, please? 

“I major in classical music.”

You raise an eyebrow, a smirk crawling over your lips. “And yet you’re more than decent at Queen on the keys.”

Renjun straightens, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. “You’re stalking me?!”

“No, I’m scouting you. All the big companies hire people to do that.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Er, it’s called extraordinary.”

“Extraordinarily annoying.”

“Stop arguing with me!” You stomp your foot.

Renjun mimics you in a rather aggressive tone, the tip of his nose almost touching yours. You pull a face, throwing a soft punch at his shoulder to which he responds with a sharp cry and a glare. 

“Fine!” Renjun says, massaging his shoulder. “I’ll give you one week to prove to me this band’s worth my time.”

You feel something akin to surprise before his words register. Worth his time? He's just about as arrogant as you expected. 

“Deal,” you say, shooting him a forced smile.

From the light periwinkle of his T-shirt to the blond strands astray against his forehead, there’s a sort of halo surrounding him. You press your lips together before you can laugh at his supposed angelic qualities, before he somehow starts to look as pretty as your friends describe. 

“Starting today, I’m your lyricist and composer!” you grin, extending your hand towards him.

“I...You…” 

Renjun hesitates before taking your hand in a firm shake, but not before pursing his lips in doubt. Perhaps you could have warned him before grabbing his wrist and so unceremoniously dragging him here. 

“I didn’t even join,” he mutters.

“I’m giving you the full trial!” you defend.

Renjun stays quiet before suddenly clearing his throat. “You can- You can let go of the wall now.”

Your eyes trail to your hand and you immediately retract it with an “ah”. There’s barely any distance between your chests, and you suppose you were successful in cornering him—a little too effectively. Renjun shakes his head, quickly walking past you with no gesture of goodbye.

“You’re going to be disappointed, (name),” he says quietly before leaving.

You blink in confusion at his disappearing figure. 

Whatever. When have you ever paid attention to words of warning? You glance at the back of Renjun’s head from the second floor’s handrail as he rushes down the stairs, albeit a sort of grace to his movement, and sigh. 

Donghyuck owes you twenty. You’re going to be rubbing it in his smug face that you’ve recruited, er, almost recruited the unreachable Huang Renjun. And for a date? He must be far more romantic than you thought. You don’t think you’ll ever understand him.

You take a slow, deep breath reaching all the way to your belly. 

Your plan is working out. It’s going to work out—soon you can be writing songs to a rhythm and melody of your choice, for people who can hear the words and dance to it. The world’s gonna sing along to your songs, to the chorus to your ambitions. 

“Renjun?!”

Between Donghyuck’s agape mouth and Renjun’s defensive stance, you really don’t know who to approach first. This place was apparently the only room in all of Seoul a bunch of college kids could rent out and while all of you dished out a remarkable chunk from your earnings, it was worth every penny. From the ugly orange wallpaper to the stinky couch, you wouldn’t trade a thing in this room, except for maybe Jeno’s withering plant in exchange for a new one. Poor thing’s been dead for as long as you can remember (courtesy of Jaemin).

“(name) actually convinced you?” Donghyuck asks, exaggerated surprise in his voice before he drops it lower. “You can tell me if you were threatened or something, promise I’ll get you out of this.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, a smile making on to his face anyway. “It’s just for a w—mph!”

You slap a hand over Renjun’s mouth, stepping in to grin victoriously at Donghyuck. “See, Hyuck? I told you I’d make it work. Now, pay up.”

“You bet on this?” 

The curtains are drawn shut but the room lights are bright in a strange sort of way, like someone in the sixteenth century discovered electricity early and decided to reinvent candlelight out of it. Late afternoon isn’t as gentle as it is in winter, but you’d rather have patches of sunlight decorating the room instead of the garish yellow lights. The lavender air freshener you sprayed a few minutes ago has already settled in, the previous scent of instant noodles, though delicious, finally gone. You should’ve brought the coffee mix, you think with regret. A productive day needs a productive start, as you’ve always been told. (You might have messed up, but it’s never too late, right?)

You think you should have anticipated a little adjustment trouble after all.

Jeno walks headfirst into the mess—with Renjun choking Donghyuck under his arm while you try to not drop the pile of records from the small coffee table and onto the Dorito dust-covered wooden floor. The recorder is safe, a good few feet away from your mayhem.

“Oh, hey Renjun, didn’t know you’re a part of this,” Jeno says, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

“Yeah, I didn’t either,” Renjun mutters in response, loosing up on Donghyuck.

You narrow your eyes. “Wait, you guys know each other?”

“Yeah, we’re in the same dorm,” Jeno answers, shrugging before he drops his bag onto the couch. 

You gasp. “You could’ve just asked him all this time?!”

“Uh,” Jeno drawls out before coughing forcefully. There’s a slight change of air, and your inability to read situations, for the first time, is a major help.

“Hello, trouble children,” Jaemin announces as he enters, his bag thrown in Jeno’s direction, who seems relieved for the interruption.

“Oh, hi Renjun!” 

“You know him too?” You’re almost offended at this point. 

Jaemin stares blankly in confusion. “Yeah, we’re…all…in the same dorm.”

You throw up your head in exasperation, an annoyed huff leaving your parted lips. “And none of you thought of asking him to join?!”

“We didn’t think he’d ever agree,” Jaemin says, glancing at Renjun discreetly. 

Renjun stays quiet, shrugging before he plops down on the couch. “Anyone wanna tell me what we’re supposed to do today? Apart from killing Donghyuck?”

“It’s not my fault you’re so bad at rock, paper, scissors,” Donghyuck retorts quietly. 

“You cheated!” Renjun sits up straight, glaring.

You raise your palms like the peaceful negotiator you are, and honestly, all they had to do was decide the lead vocal for the new song, which Renjun vehemently rejected. 

Donghyuck gasps. “Renjun isn’t half as innocent as he looks. Watch out (name)—oof.”

Renjun elbows him in the stomach, the resulting expression on Donghyuck making you wonder just how much strength Renjun really has.

“Renjun, Donghyuck. You’re both lead,” you say, finalizing.

“What?!” 

The two of them look at you, one with betrayal and the other with an emotion very close to murder. It wasn’t easy coming to the decision, sure, but for this song, you’ll be needing Renjun a little bit more. Is it treacherous of you to have picked out the song most suited to him? You have your reasons, however. You’re not letting Renjun leave without experiencing the wonders of performing at a local pub, and in general, you’re a little iffy about letting him leave at all. You need the keys and you need a chance. You have something to prove.

“Just this song, Hyuck,” you sigh. “You know we switch up things every time.”

“Fine,” he grumbles. “The show's coming Saturday, right?”

You nod when Renjun interrupts.

“Show?!” he blurts.

“We’re performing,” you answer, shrugging. “You know Odd Fruit? In Hongdae?”

Renjun wrinkles his nose, shifting back. “No? Isn’t that a dive bar?”

“Best place for us,” Jaemin grins, resting his elbows against the headrest beside Renjun. “Saturdays are for rock.”

Renjun sighs. “I don’t- I don’t sing rock.”

Jeno raises an eyebrow. “I wasn’t peeping or anything but wasn’t that you in the shower? What were you singing again—”

“Okay, okay!” Renjun sits up straight, heaving a sigh, his shoulders moving with it. “I sing Disney songs in the shower, it doesn’t mean anything…”

“We can do that sort of music too.” You grin, tilting your head. “We can do any music!”

“Yeah,” Jeno encourages thoughtfully, “Even idol music!”

“No,” everyone says in unison. 

Jeno mutters something under his breath, sulking as he sinks into the couch and crosses his arms after adjusting his bright red baseball cap.

Renjun shakes his head, recomposing himself. “You want me to perform next Saturday?! That wasn’t in the deal!”

You furrow your brows. “I told you it’s a full trial!”

“That’s over a week!” He throws up his hands in exasperation.

“The trial week ends on Friday and Saturday’s just a bonus,” you reason, crossing your arms. 

You don't break the gaze just in case it determines your stand. It’s probably a full minute of glaring at each other before your humble audience intervenes, Donghyuck bursting into laughter and the other two following. You share a puzzled look with Renjun, looking around for an explanation.

“We’re gonna have a blast this Saturday,” Donghyuck says, wiping a tear from his eye. “I can’t wait.”

“We’ll get to practise,” Jaemin says, resting his palm on Renjun’s shoulder reassuringly. “You’re gonna have fun, trust me.”

“I hope so,” Renjun mutters.

That’s all you need to hear.

Renjun isn’t half as disagreeable when he’s focused. His brow line is straight, lips parted gently and eyes almost hazed over as if his fingers over the keys have eyes of their own. 

Renjun is also fantastic at perfecting your notes. You always thought he’d be too prissy to work with you, but he doesn’t seem to care about that anymore. With flushed knuckles and long fingers, part of hands that were meant to play the piano—you’d say Renun lives up to the musical prodigy title. The short demo you’d played for him somehow swirled and twined into music so him and yet still you, rock undertones with light blues. You haven’t met anyone who can play with melody like that, besides Donghyuck.

Rock means hope. Undone to be done.

And maybe, part of you is a little disappointed at how well he handles the pre-performance stress. You would love to see a hint of jitters in him for once. Saturday wastes no time in creeping up and while you wish you could say you feel what your band looks like, you don’t. The pre-performance stress is very, very different for you. 

Let’s say, you’re not too sure about reviving rock music in Seoul. It’s not very popular and still considered underground, but hey, at least it’s easy on the ears and it is honest, if nothing else. And an honest sound wins, right?

You lock eyes with Renjun, before they're ushered to the centre. There's not much to be said. You smile with a determined nod, holding up both of your thumbs to the boys. This will work out. It will.

And at the very least, you're getting two shots of whiskey on the house.

The place is shabby, but not too shabby for a dive bar. There’s a giant mural… thing of what seems to be the hybrid of a peach, apricot and dragonfruit. You’re not too sure, actually. Just as crowded as you expected, the lights glow dim and the smell of musk and lime keep in check the other foul smells that could possibly emanate from the human body. Lovely. Your fingers play against your lips as they stretch into a smile. It’s the perfect place to play your song, but maybe the jitters have a purpose after all.

There are foreign faces around, quite literally, and it makes you nervous. You settle by the bar, your last words of encouragement drifted off further from you to whatever that excuse of a stage is. 

Renjun looks calm as ever. The confidence in him is not what you'd expected, though a bubbling feeling in you suggests it's even better this way.

“You finally got someone on the keys,” a familiar voice calls from behind the countertop.

You turn your head to find Doyoung, arms resting on the table and holding what seems to be a bottle of vodka so tenderly, you’d think it was either his child or an explosive.

“Huang Renjun,” you respond, smiling. “Like the best pianist in our year. Or maybe second best.”

Doyoung laughs. “You kids could be as good as us some day. Need more practice.”

“Hey, old man, it’s not your time anymore,” you say, raising an eyebrow with a cheeky grin. “Maybe you were the best keyboardist back then but…”

You lean in to emphasize as you point at a Renjun furrowing his brows at all the wiring. “That guy’s going to outsing you. It’s the new era now. Etcetera, etcetera.”

“You talk like I’m from a different generation.” Doyoung scoffs, though the corner of his lips twitch. “Still dreaming of making your boyband? Do you guys even have a name?”

You pout. “It’s not a boyband! Okay… technically, it is a boyband. And no, we don’t have a name.”

You sulk for a moment or two at the way Doyoung had called your life��s work a boyband in that uninterested tone. Nothing’s wrong with a boyband. You sigh.

“At least we’re getting free alcohol, eh?” you nudge Doyoung, him being the reason you’re getting to play here anyway. What does a graduated music performance major do in his free time? Bartending, apparently. You haven’t ever really questioned his life choices and you’re not going to start now. Never question your seniors.

“I’m not serving you kids alcohol,” he says, furrowing his eyebrows in disbelief.

“We’re legal,” you argue, crossing your arms.

“Hard to believe.”

You see the smile lines crease on Doyoung’s face and before you can retort, a hum of strings resounds through the place, loud enough for the two of you to catch.

“Sorry,” Donghyuck mouths sheepishly to the two of you, Doyoung responding with an eye roll.

“I didn’t know that demon could get nervous,” he mutters and you laugh at the comedic duo the two of them make. 

Donghyuck clears his throat into the mic and you cringe, but not before holding back your laughter at the terror in his eyes. Right then, the keys are struck, and suddenly, music is into motion.

You absentmindedly hum along, smiling to yourself before it strikes you to monitor the crowd. You gulp, a crease in your brows as you look around with the determination of a child at a pet shop scanning for a puppy to adopt.

You give up after a minute or so, the feeling weighing heavy. Reading facial expressions has never really been your thing, especially under lights that don’t acknowledge the purpose of their existence. (You’re not saying this because you have bad eyesight.) Fun varies. Everyone in this place is in a crowd of their own, and if not a crowd, in a dream. Some nod along, some smile but you, you know the song better than anyone else in this room. It has to be worth something.

You sigh. Your desperation gets a notch crueler each drawing year, and yet, the questions still arise. Do you have to be someone? A smiling face at a dive bar is more than enough to be, you think.

You mouth the lyrics, nodding your head along to the baseline you helped make. You think Doyoung chuckles beside you, something about taking self-love too seriously but you can’t hear him over the sound of the band. 

Bass. Drums. Keys.

Suddenly, in the moment between heartbeats, your eyes meet Renjun’s.

He sings into the mic full of self-assurance, teeth occasionally making an appearance in a chaotic smile. It's always the little things that make the person. Eyes peering down at the keys, barely keeping open at certain parts and yet you think you see a hint of exhilaration in them. 

The riff of the second song starts out loud. This is Donghyuck’s song and this time, it turns heads. You’re not sure in a good way or bad, but it wouldn’t be the first time people have wanted to beat him up in a bar. You snicker to yourself but just then, two guys cheer from the crowd, a red-faced Donghyuck flashing them a grin.

“Ah, Jaehyun and Taeil are here too,” Doyoung notes. You’ve never actually met the two but you’ve heard of them so many times you think you could replace Doyoung as their lead singer. 

The song is called Cheers and for good reason.

Donghyuck smiles into the mic, and with a highly anticipated breath, you realize, Renjun is smiling too. Little by little, the night grows more optimistic and into the palms of your youth. Even in this tiny, crowded place. Even in a room full of people you can’t read.

The song ends in time, but not enough for Donghyuck to actually convince Doyoung to give him drinks. It’s not a Saturday night without their fights, and despite that, the atmosphere is warm with spoken words. You think you catch Renjun beam at Doyoung’s compliment, suppressing your own smile at the two..

Clink, splash, clink.

“You know, for someone as excited about whiskey, I thought you’d be better with liquor,” Renjun says, sighing as his hesitant finger pokes you in the forehead.

Your eyes open so suddenly, Renjun flinches and you ease into a smile. “I’m not that drunk. The next shot, maybe.”

That’s not entirely true because you’re sure the previous one just needs a little more time to settle into your gut. Renjun, on the other hand, seems to be better at dealing with alcohol. The peach hue across his cheeks make you want to pinch them and you’ll give it twenty minutes before you lose control and actually do.

The two songs were only three and a half minutes each but they seemed to stretch long enough for you to be pleased with them. You’re not sure about the rest.

“I almost messed up the beat there,” Jeno mutters, resting his head against the bar table. Jaemin shrugs beside him, taking another shot. The two of them can hold their liquor, at least. Donghyuck cannot.

“Was it that bad?” Donghyuck asks, adjusting the red bomber jacket he was so sure made him look cool. “I don’t think it was bad. I mean, we all do embarrassing things once in a while—”

“Does he not shut up?” Renjun wails before looking at you accusingly. “Don’t end up like that.” 

“I don’t mope, Renjun,” you snap, your finger unsteady as it points at him. “You better remember that about me.”

Renjun rolls his eyes. “And you’re gone too.”

“Tell me,” you say, your lips tugged into a lazy smile, “you enjoyed it, didn’t you? I saw you smiling.”

Even under the wash of blue light, you can see his cheeks tinge with colour. Is Huang Renjun purple now? Not the crystal clear jewel you’d expected, but these hues are so much nicer on him. He doesn’t always have to be under golden spotlight—he can just bask in the mulberry shades of a nearly sketchy club once in a while.

“Renjun,” a loud whine erupts from beside you, Donghyuck immediately wobbling up. “I can’t believe you actually agreed to play with us. C’mere, let me give you a smooch.”

Renjun curls his lips, desperately trying to fight off Donghyuck clinging onto him for life, and you hear a grunt of pain from Renjun in a pitch you didn’t think was humanly possible. You laugh, clutching your stomach and hear a few strained words from Renjun about how no one ever helps him. Who would help him when he’s providing you the funniest event of the weekend?

Jeno is the knight in shining armour tonight, pulling Donghyuck off but not before the boy lands a kiss on Renjun’s neck, in turn getting smacked in the lips a little too hard. Donghyuck places his hand over his mouth, keeling over with eyes shut in pain and Renjun mutters about how he deserved that. He fits in just fine, you think.

“You wanna… not do that?” 

Renjun pulls the shot glass away from you, and you frown at him.

“So tell me,” he says, leaning in a little closer to be heard over the song. “Why did you want me to join your band so desperately you forgot your own dignity? I’m not saying you had any to begin with but…”

“Look, Renjun, I don’t give away embarrassing secrets when I’m drunk,” you warn, poking him right between the ribs. “Even if it’s not embarrassing. Or a secret.”

“Right. You’d do that sober,” he sighs, arms a polite distance from you when you try to stand up.

“Now you tell me—”

“You didn’t even answer me.”

“—did you have fun?”

Renjun pauses, taking a moment or two as he scans your face. The light dances across his features, gentle eyes and parted lips, across the dark jacket over a white shirt that has turned fluorescent under the lighting. You forgot how fun this place got beyond midnight, when they play beats to dance to for a crowd that seeks nothing more than fun.

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

Renjun might be trying very hard to stop the smile over his lips but you can see it in his eyes. And perhaps, people are only seen when they are true to themselves.

“Huang Renjun!” you yell all of a sudden, voice still drowned out in the delicate discordance. 

Unfortunately for Renjun, you yell directly into his ear and he responds with a violent recoil, hand flying to his ear involuntarily. He probably cries out too but the music is deafening, something you enjoy rightly so. Or is it the alcohol? Should you have stayed sober for Renjun’s sake? Right now, you don’t even mind the strong minty scent wafting from Renjun—in fact, it’s welcoming, even.

You wobble onto his chest before tentatively pushing yourself away. You curse at yourself. You weren’t supposed to get hammered. How much did you drink? You can’t even bear to look at the bill right now.

“You know what? I’m not having fun right now,” Renjun speaks into your ear and you jump. There’s a hint of a smile on his face. 

You sit back down on the bar stool, pouting at the fuzz blooming inside your head. No more words for tonight. In all honesty, why doesn’t anyone ever let you dance?

“Oh no, you don’t.” Doyoung pulls the bottle of whatever-alcoholic-beverage out of your reach. “Do you even know how expensive that is? You’re going to have to pay.”

You think you sober up a little, sitting straight. “Oh no. I don’t have money. I’m not cleaning the place again.”

A sort of unspoken arrangement passes between Doyoung and Renjun, who you’re sure have never met before. You know Jaemin’s dragged Donghyuck home, the same way you’d drag your pet cat away from the kitchen and Jeno is the only one with a driver’s license and Doyoung’s trust (hence, designated driver). Which leaves the two of you. 

Renjun heaves a sigh, pulling you up by the shoulders. “You’re going home. Or whatever dumpster you came from.”

He proceeds to mutter something about Jeno being late but in the moment, you flash him a grin, walking perfectly away (at least, you think you do) and out into the night. Renjun follows, flustered by your absolute lack of restraint as he somehow manages to stop you from tripping over the sidewalk.

“You didn’t dance,” you complain, looking at him. 

“You didn’t let me,” he retorts. “Look at you. You’re as bad as Donghyuck. Babysitting him is difficult enough.”

You grumble before agreeing. “Okay, fair. Next time, no drinking. Unless it’s free.”

What college student would have the audacity to turn down free drinks? Huang Renjun should not have been this good at holding his liquor. Needlessly, your thoughts are incoherent—not too good for a songwriter, right?

Huang Renjun has a lighter touch than you thought. He has a polite hold over your shoulder, in a way friends do most often, and you might feel like you could have been friends with him forever, but you can never tell what he thinks. Sometimes, Renjun really is extraterrestrial. In the way he talks, in the way he looks at things and in the way you almost believe he’s going to do something unspeakably outrageous someday. 

You feel a certain sprout of warmth in your chest as he sits quietly beside you in the noisy car Jeno loves to drive. Must be the alcohol, of course. Of course.

And sometimes, you come up with words fit for a song. To fall asleep in last night’s clothes and wake up with tomorrow’s dreams—all part of the grand plan, part of the crusades of youth, nothing more and nothing less. That sounds like something you’d love telling your family when you’re old and grey. You laugh to yourself, pulling the covers over your head, not knowing how you even ended up here. 

It smells minty. 

With that one fleeting thought, you doze off in your unwashed bed sheets and faintly lemon-scented pillows, shades of plums and oranges and cherries of the night twisting into midnight black.

Playing at Odd Fruit is now a thing. Your thing. The band’s thing.  

As if you needed any more reasons to stay over at the bandroom, now that Donghyuck and Renjun bickering keeps everyone up all night. You’re not blaming them, of course, when you join in the fun too. The day Renjun’s nostrils stop flaring and his eyebrows don’t furrow into an oddly adorable expression will be the day he’s finally set free from your ‘ill-treatment’.

Tap, scratch, tap.

Donghyuck fiddles with the strings of his guitar, while the rest lay slumped in any clean bit of space they could find, like runners after a marathon. Which is funny, really, considering you were the one running errands and cleaning up the damn place and it’s yet still somehow trashed. You could be having a little more energy, you always could. 

However, the lengthened nights have left you in a state you’re rather afraid to be in. Your eyes don’t grow any more determined when it’s time for end semester tests, you don’t grow any happier at the thought of graduating. There are so many tunes to find, so many words to scribble—just how will you catch up?

Fun is a perfectly valid reason to do things but it’s only so long before the rest of your feelings each grip you by the limbs. 

“We need to do something more,” you say, pacing the room. “Something that’s a little more eye-catching, you know?”

There’s a pause.

“Make Jeno play the drums shirtless,” Donghyuck suggests.

Jeno sighs, still not having figured out how to respond every time a scandalizing proposition escapes the boy’s mouth. At this point, most of you have considered duct taping him over the mouth but it’d never work. Renjun’s tried.

“Why do we even need it?” Renjun asks, eyes on the ceiling as he lies back on the couch.

“To improve!” you say, shoulders hunching.

“I don’t need improving,” he mutters, neck angled to the side in contemplation.

“Yeah, you should see Renjun at the dorms,” Donghyuck snorts. “I don’t think he can get any better.”

Renjun furrows his brows. “What?”

“You play the keys in your sleep, Renjun,” Donghyuck says, almost distastefully. “You keep tapping and tapping against the study desk. How the hell do you not wake yourself up?”

“And you snore,” Renjun mumbles, glaring at him. “How the hell do you not wake yourself up?”

“Guys,” you interrupt. Your lack of sleep throughout the exam season has not left you any better than this. “More important matters at hand.”

“Why are we so stressed anyway?” Renjun sighs.

There’s another pause in the quiet afternoon. You’d think it’s comforting even to have the same fear lingering beneath each of your noses, that same existential grasp ready to pounce—all within the comfort of the same room you share. All those late nights sharing ramen have meaning after all, as do the utter messes all of you make on Friday evenings as the boys try to practise, as does every Saturday night performance and every Sunday afternoon spent trying to watch the same movie on a tiny phone screen.

“How about we each look for inspiration?” Jaemin pipes up, eyes still a little lost.

Everyone turns to him and he straightens ever so slightly. “Me and Jeno can come up with a beat, (name) and Renjun can look for a melody and Donghyuck—”

“Can fuck off?” Renjun suggests helpfully.

Donghyuck pouts, crossing his arms. “Hey I’m—”

“Yeah, maybe Donghyuck can fuck off,” Jaemin says, fighting a smile. You raise an eyebrow, wondering which one of Donghyuck’s antics finally got on Jaemin’s nerves.

“This is harassment,” Donghyuck mutters before sinking into the couch beside Renjun. “Well, good for me! I get a day off—”

“No, you don’t,” Jaemin disproves. “You’re cleaning up this place.” 

Donghyuck lets out a gasp. “All by myself?”

“Well, you trashed the place all by yourself,” Jeno reasons.

You tune out the bickering for a few moments. There are important matters at hand and no one seems to be listening to you. You play with your fingers absentmindedly when the thought arrives that maybe you should declare your secret little project. The song you wrote with Renjun in mind, that is. You should admit that it’s really just a nicer way of saying you wrote a song for him. 

Astounding, isn’t it? This should be the part where you feel your pulse quicken. It’s just a song and the nights spent with him on the keyboards, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes has given you a head full of rhythm and song. It’s just a song.

You’d do anything for a good song.

But first, you need your audio converter fixed. The damn thing’s been generating noise all on its own, when it’s clearly your job.

“I need to go to Yongsan,” you say, picking up your bag. “We can find inspiration along the way, can’t we Renjun?”

“Why do we need to go—”

“Oh, get me some replacement strings for my guitar,” Donghyuck chirps.

“And a new pair of drumsticks,” Jeno says, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You sigh. He really needs to stop breaking those. Where do drummers get such unparalleled rage on a drum set?

You walk over to the door before turning back and sending a pointed look at Renjun.

“I… have to?” he asks, and the look in his eyes almost makes you pity him. If anything, he’s having it worse than the rest of you are, with balancing the weekly gigs and practising for his piano recitals, though he never studies like the rest. You feel sorry but clearly, not enough.

“Yes,” you reply hurriedly. “Quick, get up, come on, we’re wasting time.”

“Okay, okay! Don’t pull my shirt!”

It’s so easy to get Renjun to do things these days. You bite back a smile as he fixes his collar, features still disgruntled by your (over)enthusiasm. His bag is cuter than you thought for someone who dresses punk (“It’s not punk,” he’d snapped, after re-dyeing his hair yet again.), with three different moomin keychains hanging against a baby blue hue. 

You should know better than to let yourself think about someone so much.

The subway is absolutely lovable when it isn’t rush hour.

Skyscrapers nearly aren’t as looming as they are on rainy days, but you make your way through a still busy city, the heart of it beating like a snare drum with each passing moment.  A little rain cannot stop Seoul. 

Renjun walks beside you explaining how you should really look into this new underground artist you’ve already listened to three times this week because of him. He never seems to understand that you are, in fact, capable of remembering the things he says.

“I wrote a song about you,” you say abruptly.

Very smooth.

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Like as a gift? A fan song? I’m so flatter—”

“No, stupid,” you interrupt, shifting your eyes upon irrelevant surrounding details. “It’s not about you. I just thought you’d like it.”

You pause.

“Yeah, it’s a little bit about you. A gift for joining. You can sing it to yourself in the shower or something.”

“You know, I feel really offended when you call me stupid.”

You glare at him. His ears are tinged red but right now, you’re a little more than done with his insults. Sure, you make mistakes—like dropping a full open can of soda on your own lap or submitting the wrong assignment to the wrong professor—but at least you’re not cynical Huang Renjun, incapable of making mistakes at all. It would be much more infuriating if you hadn’t seen Renjun drooling in his sleep or vigorously wipe at his nose after having snacks too spicy for his own good. You suppress a retort.

You reach the subway entrance taking slower steps than usual; but time is not a constraint here.

“It’s not a diss track, is it?” Renjun asks, suddenly doubtful. 

You can’t help your laugh (and horrifically, snorts), in turn evoking a smile in Renjun.

“No, it isn’t,” you assure, before grabbing his wrist and skipping down the steps, Renjun’s panicked voice yelling at you to slow down. 

“Can you not do that?” he complains, massaging his wrist at the subway platform.

“You made it through without tripping,” you reason, sticking your tongue out at him.

He reaches out to flick your forehead but you cover it just in time, a grin blooming across both your faces at this childish playfight. The train arrives with an almost soundless screech and you hop on slowly with anticipation in your footsteps.

“So what is it about?” Renjun asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows against his knees.

“You,” you respond, nonchalant.

“Very informative.”

The noise of the trains keeps the moment engaged, chuffing throughout as busy as they are.

Renjun lets out a barely audible gasp. “It’s not a- It’s not a love song, is it?”

You laugh, amused.

“Renjun, I knew you were arrogant but not this arrogant,” you tease.

He flushes hotly, and there’s that feeling again—that maybe you’re wrong. Maybe you don’t have anything else to hang on to and music is the only ledge left. 

You wrinkle your nose before shaking yourself off the feeling. Rainy days always do this.

“Besides,” you say, “I’m still going to score you that hot date with star pianist number one, aren’t I?”

“Not number one,” he begins before hesitating. “That’s… not necessary but thanks.”

You punch him swiftly and he responds with an oof, clutching the ball of his shoulder.

“Don’t be shy,” you complain. “That’s not fun.”

“Well, I’m not fun,” he retorts. “I don’t need to be. I like having a working brain.”

You send him an exaggerated hurt look, hand reaching to pull at his cheek before it gets swatted away. Somehow, in this exact moment, you find a new tune and it doesn’t seem to be the end of your search. You contemplate saving it in your voice memos but you figure a noisy subway train is the last place to record. Besides, you don’t want to lose the look in Renjun’s eyes when he’s talking about how impressive the new relocated concert hall is.

“It’s called Not Feeling Spring,” you say when the train doors open to your station.

Renjun raises an eyebrow, somewhat disbelieving, although you’re not sure of what. 

“You’ve definitely packed some insults in there,” he accuses.

You look at him, defeated. “Trust me.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

Step, step, splash. 

“Ew,” Renjun says, shaking his foot after landing on a particularly damp part of the sidewalk. They really should have evened out the path when laying the pavement. But unfortunately for Renjun, he’s already stepped onto rainwater in bright yellow converse.

It’s not just his shoes that look like daisies could bloom over them either—there’s paint over his denim jacket in pictures you’re aware that Renjun himself painted. A nice little touch, but not a very smart choice for a garment. How unlike him, you think to yourself when you hear him sigh and complain about the weather.

“So this is your famous shop?” Renjun asks, eyeing the discoloured walls of the store by the shop.

“You’re doing your thing again,” you reply, face souring.

He looks baffled. “What thing?”

“Your thing. The one where you act all cynical.”

“I’m not cynical.” He crosses his arms.

“Great, you’re even cynical about being cynical.”

Inside is, of course, as warm as ever. The walls are vibrant red, in stark contrast with the exterior and you think you see Renjun’s face grow pinkish. You smile at the man behind the counter, in his late fifties and smile still somehow as bright as yours.

“What’s the problem, dear?” he asks, glancing at your laptop. “You know I can’t help with software issues.”

“I know,” you say, “But I’ve tried every guide on the internet and there’s still unnecessary noise.”

He clicks around your screen for a few seconds.

“Have you tried getting a better mic?”

“Uh.”

Renjun snickers beside you before promptly apologizing at the two pairs of eyes on him. You didn’t bring him here just to embarrass yourself in front of him. Your cheeks flush as you tell the man you’ll come another day with your mic, before heading to the supplements aisle. Renjun follows you quietly, silent laughter yet still etched over his face and he looks away when you glare at him.

“Are you sure you wanna buy the wooden drumsticks?” Renjun asks, picking up the carbon fibre ones instead.

“Jeno loves the wooden ones,” you defend. “And you really think those are within my budget?”

Renjun shrugs, keeping them back in place. 

“Feels like I’m shopping for babies,” he mutters.

There’s a second’s pause before he straightens, a particular discomfort in his being. “Not- Not like my babies or something. I- I meant—”

“I know what you meant,” you say, trying very hard to hold in your laughter. 

“I don’t like that face you’re making.”

“You don’t always have to explain yourself,” you smile before heading to the counter.

The scent of rain makes you nostalgic. You step outside with Renjun and into the sound of rain against pavement. It’s wet and damp, and your hair clings to your skin in that horrific discomfort of humidity, truly one of the worst cruelties of rain. You make a face but an idea strikes you smack across the forehead.

You gasp.

“This can be our stage!” you declare, spreading your arms.

Renjun pulls your arms down. “Don’t block the sidewalk!”

“Sorry.”

You shove your bag onto Renjun, bewildering him even further. The sleeves of the jacket he rolled up, fall into place again as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“This,” you say, waving your arms about, “Should be a stage.”

“Huh?”

Renjun looks unconvinced at your flailing and you sigh. 

“The rain!” you say, trying to sound as enthusiastic as you can. “Isn’t it romantic? You’ve never thought what it would be like playing in the rain?”

“Uh, inconvenient?”

You groan. “Come on! Picture it for a second.”

You give it a moment before showing him what you mean. Renjun bursts into laughter at your air guitar performance, suddenly unaware of the pit-a-pat. 

“It would be nice,” he says, his teeth poking against his lips. He places the bags under the shaded entrance of the store before stepping into the drizzle.

Pitter, patter.

Renjun flashes you a goofy smile, shaking the water out of his hair only for the rain to come in stronger. With raindrops caught on eyelashes, you can only think of the soft, rising melodies that come in movie scenes like these, except it’s a lot more uncomfortable than they show it to be. You smoothen your hair, getting slightly frizzy due to the raindrops. You’ve always wanted to do things out of line and out of regularity and it’s not just because of the price sticker spelling ‘youth’ that clings to your back—but now, is it selfish to just want to stay under the rain? 

In a way it feels just the same as ever; like singing barefoot on an asphalt road, cooling rains and people around, without a care each. You tell Renjun about the time you were stranded by the bus stop under heavy downpour for so long, you decided to walk home with pneumonia a step behind you and he tells you that you’re an idiot. It’s nothing unusual but it makes you smile when he laughs at you. 

The rain slows again before you can start to shiver, chest rising and falling with each breath that fills your lungs. 

“I have a song!” you declare, eyes shining. “A love song. We’ve never done a love song.”

“A love song?” Renjun asks, laughing almost. “You want to write a radio love song? Why?”

“Because, Huang Renjun, there’s not a thing in the world that isn’t made for love.”

Renjun pauses before wrinkling his nose. “Don’t preach me.”

The clap of thunder startles the two of you out of calm. It’s not so much the screams that left your mouths simultaneously as the looks you get from passersby. Renjun looks at you the same time as you look at him, his ears red and eyes nervous.

“Lightning doesn’t- Lightning doesn’t strike in the middle of the city, does it?” Renjun asks, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted, like a hare stranded in the middle of a busy road.

“I don’t know!” You respond, pulling him by the sleeve to the nearest cover. “I don’t want to know.”

Renjun grabs your hand and you realize with a thump in your heart the effect of it. He pulls you to the side, saving your jeans from the fate of getting splashed by muddy water courtesy of an oncoming car.

“Ooh, quick reflex,” you say, despite the clanging of cymbals inside your ribcage.

He shrugs, picking up the bags and shoving yours to your chest.

“Ow?”

“Don’t look at me like that. You know why.”

“You know, you’re not as grumpy as I thought you were. You’re still petty, though.”

“Thanks.”

When you’re back to the bandroom, you find Donghyuck snoring on the couch with an even more worn out Jaemin sitting cross legged on the floor and his head against Donghyuck's knee. Jeno looks like he’s in a world of his own, tapping away at his phone in a game he seems to be losing at.

“Why are you guys wet?” Jaemin asks, cracking an eye open. “Had some life-changing experience?”

“Not really.” You shrug. “Why do you guys look dead?”

“I am dead,” Donghyuck mumbles in his sleep to which Jaemin shakes his head.

“He didn’t even do the entire cleaning…”

You hope the skip in your steps isn’t too obvious. You have a song and this time, it feels pure in a way that you haven’t made before.

“I hope you guys came up with a beat,” you call.

“Uh, about that—”

“I have a new song!” you announce bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Your declaration is met with a bunch of smiles. Soon enough, everyone in the room is up and to their positions in a matter of minutes. 

Music isn’t about being eye-catching, considering the eyes have nothing to do with it anyway. You signal Renjun who in turn, clears his throat.

A strum of guitar string. Four notes on the keys. Bass. A beat on the drums.

“One. Two. Ah, one, two, three, four!”

The cafeteria is jam packed at three a.m so it’s a good thing you brought Renjun here an hour early. So, your top secret, full resistance, avant-garde mission? Your new song and the one for Renjun, of course. 

“So this is top secret,” you whisper when he sits down from across you.

“I’m sure it is,” he snickers.

You pass your notebook to him, scribbles neater than usual. (That’s only because you rewrote the song in a new page.) You start your laptop, waiting for the screen to load as Renjun goes over the lines.

“My dreams and I don’t get along,” Renjun reads aloud before furrowing his brows.

Ah, I hate people.

I hate my friends too.

And I love saying that which isn’t true.

“Oh, very funny, (name),” Renjun scorns, crossing his arms. “Is that what you think of me?”

You chuckle to yourself. Maybe it was a little petty, but you love the look on Renjun’s face when he’s annoyed, nerves a second away from being completely fried. Just for fun. This was just for fun. 

Somewhere along, however, you can’t deny the essence of him you’d so hopelessly wanted to capture in the melody, in rhythm and timbre, orchestral almost. It’s each note of the piano he plays to himself late at night in the bandroom, each featherlight hit on the cymbal and the song you hum to yourself on the bus ride to classes every morning.

It’s a love song. 

You break into a sudden coughing fit at the thought, Renjun flinching before offering you his bottle of water. Somehow, the gentle hand on your back trying to ease you gives you yet another reason to support your unwanted epiphany. That’s just ridiculous. It’s something natural between friends, isn’t it? Yet, you’d gag at the idea of writing Donghyuck into a song. 

You calm down and meet Renjun’s eyes, the glint of something familiar making you pause. 

“Water?” he offers, and you straighten.

“I had the stupidest thought,” you say, trying to laugh it off.

You can’t do it. You can’t make light of it with him.

“When do you not?” he says, a soft smile on his face.

You smile awkwardly in response, avoiding his eyes as you rub circles on the soft flesh between your thumb and forefinger. 

It’s quiet, much more than not, distant buzzing of the 3 a.m. university cafeteria crowds drifting through the space between you and him.

“Do you ever- Do you ever think about doing it?” Renjun asks.

You blink before feeling warmth on your cheeks. 

“Doing what, Renjun? That’s a little too private to ask. I mean, I could answer, of c—”

It doesn’t take long for him to burn bright vermillion at the cheeks. 

“I- I didn’t say that,” he defends, stuttering over the words. “I was talking about making music. Do you ever think about it or do you just do it?”

“Oh,” you respond intelligently, the embarrassment making you flush harder. Funny, you used to laugh the loudest at these sorts of mistakes. “I don’t- I don’t know. I think about it after I’ve… made it?”

You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. 

“You… do like it, don’t you?” he asks, something akin to worry in his eyes. 

You hum, smiling. “Of course I like it, Renjun.”

No. The truth is, you don’t even know how it makes you feel. The truth is, you do feel sick listening to your own song over and over again. Have you run far enough? Do you have to be running for this?

You seem scared. Is that what he wanted to tell you? You can’t be that easy to see through, you resist. When he held your hand earlier, could he feel it shake?

You’re so afraid that all of this is for naught that you can’t feel it anymore. You hardly make music for yourself, for no one else to hear. Is that what you wanted? When you wrote Not Feeling Spring, were you searching for something you desperately wanted or something you lost? You’re only twenty and you’re aging.

You snap yourself out of the whirlpool of questions to a drowsy Renjun playing with the bracelet around his wrist, lost in his own circle of thoughts. 

“I wanted to give up on this,” he whispers suddenly. “I wanted to give up on music.”

You hold your breath till he looks at you, a strange sense of vulnerability that makes you want to reach over the table and share some of the warmth your palm offers.

You’ve already drawn the conclusion.

“You’re not alone,” you say, leaning in with the widest grin. 

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Are you saying that to comfort me? It barely has any effect. Thanks, th—”

You shake your head, standing up abruptly and scrambling onto the tabletop. It’s the perfect time to be a little ridiculous. Renjun looks around, alarmed, tugging at you to get down which, unfortunately, draws even more attention. 

“Raise your hand if you’ve ever wanted to give up on music!”

There’s a moment of pause before laughter erupts, followed by a few cheers and almost as many raised hands as you’d expected. Some of them tell you to get back to your date, or focus on completing overdue assignments—friends and friends of friends. They are music students, after all.

Renjun looks around the place, rosy hued in the face, though he isn’t as angry as you thought he’d be.

“I almost never started,” you say, giggling as you resume in your seat. “Giving up came so much later.”

Renjun laughs. You don’t even have to make music out of it.

“I tried to give up the piano,” he admits, still flushed. “But I couldn’t break the habit of playing against my desk. Even then.”

You smile, resting your chin against your palm. “That sounds just like you. Now tell me, when did you discover flumpool?”

Renjun frowns and you feel an uncharacteristic thump in your chest. You want to draw your finger against his cheeks and the space between his brows, against the strained lines—the thought of it much more scandalous than the action itself.

“I didn’t- My parents didn’t- ugh.” He hesitates. “Look, everyone hated my style of music. My parents, the neighbours, their dogs. 

Your eyes soften as you sit up. “I’m sure they didn’t hate it—”

“No, trust me on this one.”

Suddenly the honey tint of his voice is dripping a dangerously low baritone. It doesn’t sound like him and it sends a shiver down your spine, a certain coldness you never thought would seep into you. It is the loneliness of curbed dreams, after all.  

“I thought I should’ve given up on music altogether. Became, what, a doctor? A lawyer?” Renjun sighs. “Whatever I do, it shouldn’t be music, right?”

He heaves a sigh in sync with you. There’s a passing moment in between where you can clearly see the apple of his eye, shining a daunting amber and a warmth you can only feel over coffee tables in university cafeterias at midnight. 

“But you’re here now because this is the closest you can be to music?” you offer, your smile sheepish.

Renjun laughs, your eyebrows furrowing as he tries to stop. “No. No, classical music was the last option on their list—but it was on the list.”

You smile, although it is small and gentle. And—unlike anything you’ve felt since you jumped onto the adulthood train.

“They like it now, though,” he beams, shoulders relaxing as if rid of a burden.“I mean- They said- They said they’re proud of me.”

When someone decides to confide their happiness to you, it is just as precious.

You look up, eyes bright as you finally get to ruffle his hair. “Well, I’m proud of you too!”

Renjun coughs indiscreetly, shaking his head before facing you. “Th-Thanks. It’s… good to hear.”

“Say it back,” you demand, making Renjun laugh.

“I’m… proud of you,” he says with rose-tinted cheeks.

The midnight chatter grows louder when the two of you pause. A symphony of voices through the area, higher pitches and lower, baritones and trebles. You wonder what people talk about most when you are quiet. You have friends—it’s not like you’re alone, per se. But everyone seems to be running, away from something or towards something. Your bones feel heavy for a second as you stir the coffee. Is it selfish to just want to get to know someone? Neither of you moving a muscle, with laughter that isn’t carried away by the wind.

“I didn’t think I’d be good at anything apart from classical,” he says, reluctance in his mouth. “Sorry about all that ruckus I caused when you asked me to join.”

You raise an eyebrow, nose wrinkling at the apology. “Renjun. It sucks when you apologize.”

He groans. “You’re really annoying, you know that? I was being nice.”

“I know,” you say, grinning. “It was all forgiven a long time ago. Can’t believe you had to say it out loud.”

“Oh, pardon me,” he says, voice rising. “I was taking into consideration your below average understanding of social cues.”

“You’re going to get smacked.”

That night, when you leave Renjun at the intersection to your respective dorms, you have yet another unwanted epiphany. He waves you goodbye with a smile, pale blue T-shirt hanging loose on his shoulders and you wave back as ardently as you can against your prominent heartbeat. Huang Renjun has the kindest eyes you’ve ever seen.

Some days, you take the bus together to and from classes. It’s not like the dorms are far but walks are considerably less fun when you’ve barely rubbed the sleep dust out of your eyes and class started ten minutes ago. Besides, you’re not letting the student bus pass go to waste.

Rattle. Rattle. Woosh.

You yawn and it quickly spreads to Renjun beside you. Classes are over and there’s no practice today. You can hear a popular song play through his earphones and tilt your head to look at him, a suppressed smile on your face. Renjun does a double take when he notices you, a little flustered as he quietly offers the other earbud and you put it on with a short word of thanks.

It is a track by one of Seoul’s favourite bands and you’re not going to lie, say you haven’t fallen prey to its charms. A catchy baseline, engaging drums and attractive vocals—you stop yourself. When was the last time you enjoyed a song without deconstructing it piece by piece? You sigh and Renjun shifts beside you, though no words part from his lips.

Absentmindedly, you find your head drawing nearer to his till they bump once and you startle away, only to laugh at each other. Is this another useless epiphany of yours? That Renjun has a lovely laugh—these are getting out of hand.

You look out the window instead, skyscrapers shiny and metallic as always and with little to offer. Unwittingly, a pout climbs onto your face at the prospect of feelings bubbling up right when you’re setting Renjun up on a date. He doesn’t know, of course. It’s meant to be a surprise and somehow, the little voice in your head won’t stop yelling at maximum volume inside your head about how wrong this is. Is it selfish? To an extent—nothing ever is purely selfless and you haven’t lived long enough to question. So why are you even bothering with this whole surprise?

Because you don’t want to think about the feelings. As if they’re things to be thought about. As if you can throw them away into the trash bin like a crumpled piece of paper.

An elderly couple boards the bus, sharing a large shopping bag as they take slow, careful steps over the aisle. Renjun responds almost at the same time you do, getting up so quickly Renjun has to hold on to the strap so as to not trip over you. The couple thanks you and you nod politely, trying not to bring attention to the earphones tangled around your necks.

You take a step closer in an attempt to separate the wires but it only makes you lose balance, Renjun clutching the cloth at your back so you don’t faceplant right into him. The other hand hangs overhead on the strap, grasping so tight his skin has turned red. 

He glances at the old couple once, blood rushing to his cheeks at something and he turns his focus back to you. 

“The- The wires- We should—”

Young love isn’t what this is. How silly. There’s enough of that all around.

“That’s what I was trying,” you interrupt. “Wait.”

You use your hands to pull the bud from your ear, trying to figure out how the loop even coiled this way. Renjun’s hand pushes against your waist at the sudden jerk, your soul almost leaving your body at the unexpected feeling of falling down. You breathe out, cheeks getting warmer. This isn’t quite uncomfortable, though.

When you look up to meet Renjun’s eyes, you feel something faint, a hint of something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“There,” you say, the wires all out of their miserable twining. 

Renjun barely nods, the music still blasting loud and clear through the buds. His hand still holds the strap for balance, and the other still holds you, for reasons private. 

There’s a warm flush over his face when he mumbles about crowded buses and the afternoon heat, eyes averted to every corner but you.

You laugh. Renjun is adorable when he least expects to be. And when you least expect him to be, he’s even terribly attractive. You swear by the way he’s looking at you, if you leaned in a little further, he’d let you kiss him. 

Wait, what?

You sober up quickly, in a moment of clarity you do not wish to have. You’ve never felt the weight of the feelings this intense. Yours isn’t the name he should be calling out so affectionately. Her. Anyone else. You were so sure of it. Huang Renjun’s fleeting interest in romance doesn’t involve you—cannot involve you.

That’s why you’re doing him (and yourself) a favour. Besides, you promised it anyway, didn’t you? 

You gulp. 

When did you start explaining yourself for everything you do?

Step, screech, step.

“Where the fuck are you even  taking me?” Renjun complains from behind you, light on his foot. “You said it’s not too far away.”

“It’s a surprise!” You stop walking to cross your arms.

“I hate it when you say that.”

How would he react? You think he’ll get a little angry, maybe scowl at you or even yell a little. You haven’t been able to look him in the eye longer than two seconds for about a week now. 

“Ta-da!” 

You stretch your arms to point towards the new cafe in town. Renjun looks at you and then the cafe and back again.

“You’re taking me on a coffee date?”

You choke on air, coughing before you can clear your throat and clarify.

“Not- Not me. Remember I promised you a date with—”

“No.”

“Yes! Wait, is that disbelieving no or are you saying you’re not going to go?”

Renjun closes his eyes and sighs, as if dealing with a toddler. “I’m not going. Why didn’t you say anything? I’m not prepared or anything!”

Something takes a tumble and falls inside your chest. You smile at him nevertheless.

“Don’t be shy now. She’s waiting, come on.”

Renjun shifts his weight from foot to foot, but it seems equally uncomfortable on each. He peers intently at you, looking up and down your face before pressing his lips together.

“Have fun,” you wish.

You push Renjun towards the door and he hesitates, some part of you expecting a little more resistance. He shrugs, although he seems to be holding back a smile. This isn’t the time, you tell yourself.

You turn on your heel before you lose your final excuse to be able to say that you are not completely enamored with Huang Renjun.

The afternoon would be more peaceful if it weren’t for Donghyuck and Renjun yelling at each other. This time, you’re not to blame.

“That’s not how you tie a bow tie!” Donghyuck complains, though Renjun won’t let him anywhere near.

“I know you’re trying to get back at me for drawing on your face last Saturday,” Renjun yells back. “But this is the pre-annual concert. You’re not fucking anything up.”

Donghyuck grumbles before settling down. Four music performance majors and yet none of them know how to do a bow tie—if it weren’t for you, Renjun might have ended up with his usual askew one. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking, and you’d just rather not look at him too long anyway. 

Formal white shirt, a much debated black bow tie and polished black dress shoes on Renjun aren’t strange to look at—in fact, they quite suit him when, despite its striking colour, his hair is parted neatly to the side. But they’re all so out of place in the bandroom, monochrome against messes, that you start to wonder if you simply think too much about him. That all of his colours and melodies are just there for you to notice.

It’s not true, of course.

But when did you become a cynic? 

“I’m going out,” Donghyuck says, huffing, “Why are they taking so long to buy ramen?”

Oh no. No, no, no. You try to mask your panic. Is one person enough to check up on Jaemin and Jeno? Would it be weird if you left too? Before you can answer those questions, you and Renjun are the only ones left in the room. You stand awkwardly by the couch, Renjun a few feet away, smoothing out the creases on his shirt.

You clear your throat, bringing his attention to you.

Nice going.

“So how was your date?”

You had to ask that, didn’t you?

The voice in your head has never been so loud before. When your question goes unanswered, you look up from the highly interesting floorboards to Renjun trying very hard to fight a snort.

“We talked about the recitals, extra lessons. Joked about you being an idiot.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”

“Chaerim’s not interested in guys.” Renjun laughs. “I thought you knew!”

There’s a pause.

“Wait, you were serious about setting me up with her?”

You stare a little too intensely at the space between your feet. Why would you choose now of all times to be coy? You keep yourself from swearing out loud.

“I- I didn’t know, okay?”

You feel the heat over your cheeks, the sound of everything other than your own heartbeat drowning out. A few more seconds pass and you worry more. 

“Don’t set me up on dates,” Renjun says, a sigh leaving his lips. “It’ll never work out.”

“What? Why?”

Renjun falters only to cover it up. “I- I… Why do you keep avoiding me?”

You can’t answer that.

“Setting me up on a date, never looking at me when you talk to me—are you going by the book or something?”

You hold your breath. He’s not misunderstanding and it only makes matters worse.

“All that because you don’t want to be in love with me?”

“Renjun, that’s not—”

“So what is it?”

You look up from your restless fingers and regret it almost immediately. The way Renjun looks at you, it damn near breaks your heart. His nose is a pale shade of red, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with undecided words.

“Am I- Am I dreaming everything up? Just tell me you don’t like me. I thought I made myself obvious.”

You can feel your pulse against your eardrums, ready to burst open any second.

“Renjun. It’s not about this,” you say, voice strangely low. “It’s about music—It’s always about music. I can’t risk anything.”

“Risk? What risk? You’re afraid you’re going to stop making music when you’re with me?”

“No—”

“You just want your songs on the Billboard charts? 

“And what if I do? I just want to be heard—”

You can barely breathe at the lack of distance between the two of you. Renjun looks straight into your eyes and you remember why your heart has been hammering in the first place.

“So it isn’t about music.”

You fall silent. It’s not wrong to want to succeed. But it’s never been about that. You were preparing yourself for a race while you repeated your love for it that was never there. Music is not a race and so, it is not the race you love.

“I didn’t want to be rich or famous,” Renjun says, voice lower than usual. “I don’t want to be rich or famous.”

But a musician does not want to be forgotten, does he?

For once, Renjun is fearless and you are not.

“There are worse things,” Renjun says, breath against your cheek and a rapid pulsing in your wrists. You look from his eyes to lips before breathing out slowly, eyelids growing heavy despite yourself.

The sudden bang makes the two of you jump away from each other.

Donghyuck kicks the door open, hands occupied with steaming instant ramen cups and Jeno walks in with the sprite. 

“Jaemin’s paying and we forgot our wallets,” Jeno offers an explanation when you raise an eyebrow.

You clear your throat awkwardly as the two scrutinize you with eyes you’re not yet ready to meet. You know you’ll never hear the end of this and better yet, you can pretend it never happened.

“Aren’t you supposed to get going?” Jeno asks, struggling to balance this month’s entire supply of ramen while Donghyuck holds the top of the pile.

Renjun responds with a soft ���yeah’, eyes glancing at you once before he grabs his coat.

“I’ll see you for practice then.”

With that, the sounds inside your chest draw to a deafening close.

You’d think Doyoung would perform with his own band at his brother’s wedding.

(“I don’t want to work on the day my brother gets married.”

“I thought you work as a bartender?”

“Oh, dear.”)

You’re not complaining, of course. The longer you spend in the bandroom, the more suffocated you feel. You can’t meet Renjun’s eyes and neither can he meet yours. You rejected him, for fuck’s sake. It cannot get any more awkward than that. Any distraction will do.

This might be the first time you’ve been to a wedding on a Thursday night. At the very least, you’re happy about it being an outdoor wedding, the cool night air refreshing you the moment you step into the garden. It’s fairly large and you know Doyoung’s brother is an actor, but it never really struck you how wealthy that meant.

“There’s a chocolate fountain?!” Donghyuck gasps, walking towards it before Jaemin grabs him by the collar.

“Stage. We’re being called.”

Donghyuck massages his neck before he decides to give everyone an unnecessary pep talk.

“Look, Renjun, you better sing like that’s your ex, who you’re still in love with, getting married,” Donghyuck turns to advise a deadpanning Renjun.

“I- what? You should do that yourself.”

You smile at them encouragingly, smacking Donghyuck a little too hard on the back (you need payback for him “borrowing” your lunch on Monday) and stand at the sidelines. Donghyuck’s guitar seems to be the brightest thing in the venue, followed by Renjun’s hair. Unfortunately for Jeno, they couldn’t get the whole drum set in and the puppy dog look on his face when he sees the box-shaped cajón might have affected you some other day. 

They perform as usual, if not more enthusiastic to be in front of a crowd that isn’t drunk or worn out or both. The love songs you wrote came to be useful, after all. The muse of them, however, stands out even now.

This time, your heart skips a beat to meet Renjun’s eyes. And he doesn’t take them off you the entire performance.

The soft vibrato of his voice doesn’t fade easy, the crowd clapping along to the song with encouraging laughter. You move to the drinks table—it’s a good thing the wedding has a no kids rule because there’s alcohol you haven’t heard of at the bar table. Or maybe it isn’t a good thing. You’d love to see the look on Doyoung’s face when some rebellious twelve year-old chugs a shot of vodka. The thought makes you giggle.

You keep your word, even if you were drunk when you’d said it. You didn’t drink at any of the gigs, mostly because Doyoung wouldn’t offer anything for free, but a deal’s a deal. This doesn’t count, does it? 

You take the shot after a few moments of contemplation. You’d ordered it on impulse and whatever dare of whim you have left in you.

Unbeknownst to you, the songs had stopped about five minutes ago, enough time for Renjun and the rest to appear at your side. 

“Doyoung never said there’d be alcohol,” Donghyuck says, not trying very hard to hide the sparkles in his eyes.

Renjun doesn’t say a word, not even at the obvious flush over your cheeks from the drinks.

“I need to go to the washroom,” you say, wobbling as you stand.

“Woah, (name),” Jaemin says, steadying you. “Take someone with you.”

“I’ll go.”

You avoid Renjun’s eyes, even now. Looks like shame isn’t as easy to wash away as it seems.

You can’t hear anything apart from your pulse, a rather disarming thing to have to listen to when it’s for long enough. You walk wordlessly to the building, locating the washroom after a few twists and turns and Renjun waits patiently for you outside.

It’s always bizarre to see yourself in the mirror of a public washroom, especially with alcohol in your system and a flush over your cheeks that you think makes you look cute. You rinse your face and dry it before you exit.

Renjun leans back against the wall, eyes glazed over in thoughts he spills only occasionally. He looks gentle in the fairly lit hallway, under lemon-coloured lights. 

“Renjun,” you call absentmindedly.

He straightens immediately and for the first time in a while, you stare at each other for longer than four seconds.

“I don’t want you to feel awkward around me,” you begin. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean—”

“Cut it out.”

You feel a drop in your heart at the harshness in his tone. Even so, you don’t feel any less drawn to him.

“Don’t be like that,” you say, voice nearing a whine. “You know I’m not any good at this. I… I have so much work to do.”

“Are you so insecure that you can't trust yourself?” he hisses, and somehow the truth of it doesn’t lessen the euphoria of proximity with him.

“You have pretty eyes, Renjun,” you say, but his eyes are not what you’re looking at.

Renjun looks down, sighing out heavily. “Stop this, (name). Don’t play.”

You smile. “This isn’t a drama, you know?”

It really isn’t, but the touch you're craving has been collecting, drip drip drip, and now it’s ready to boil over in a climax befitting any stupid drama. There should be a soundtrack to go with it, right? Renjun’s face so near to yours, lips full and pink, and heartbeat erratic under dim lights. Temptation has never been a sin to you. Then, what are you afraid of?

For a moment, Arctic Monkey’s Snap Out of It loops in your head.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask, the last shred of your senses fallen apart.

He falls silent, at a loss for words you don’t want to hear.

You can’t blame the alcohol. It’s not that you wouldn’t do this sober—it’s that you would definitely do this sober, and all would be ruined just like that. So now, while you’re under the thinly veiled excuse of being drunk, you might as well say it.

“I want to kiss you,” you repeat, bolder.

Oh, sudden proximity can make you aware of so many things. For instance, Renjun has changed his cologne, less minty and more citrus. You aren’t even looking at him when you lean closer, pressing your lips softly and yet carelessly against his. You feel returned pressure and for a moment, the wash of numbness.

Renjun pulls you away by the shoulder, eyes wide in panic. 

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you apologizing? God, I hate you. I could listen to you speaking forever.”

You bury your face in Renjun’s neck and breathe in. He gives in almost too soon, a hand gently resting against the back of your head while his arm wraps around your waist.

“Let’s get you home,” he whispers. 

You feel him shift, the rhythm of his pulse loud in his jugular, and somehow it makes you breathe a sigh of relief. The night fades little by little into the chatter of crowds, to the the hum of a car engine and finally, to the inevitable quiet of your own bedroom.

It’s a Friday. They’re supposed to be nice.

Of course, it would be were it not for a list of things. One: your fading hangover. Two: the vague regret of a drunk kiss. Three: your friends you can’t tell a word to. You might just die of shame before the autumnal existential dread settles in.

“Do you guys have any idea whose number this is?” Donghyuck asks, holding the handkerchief open for the rest of you to see. “I don’t want to be accidentally related to Doyoung hyung.”

The night is bleeding into the evening outside as Jaemin stands up to flip the light switches. You stay curled up at one side of the couch, Renjun by the keys as he tries to figure out a tune and a state of calm that would be perfect if you weren’t falling apart inside. The bandroom always made you feel at ease, but it doesn't seem to be working its charm now.

“You drink too much,” Jaemin states. “You would’ve remembered if you didn’t have an entire bottle of soju.”

“I wasn’t the only one,” he defends, sending you a pointed look. You roll your eyes. Donghyuck never did learn to take the blame.

“Didn’t Renjun and (name) leave early?” Jeno asks innocently. “What were you guys doing for so long by the washroom?”

Renjun presses on several of the keys at a force too hard, the haphazard symphony bringing everyone’s attention to him.

He awkwardly clears his throat. “Home—the dorms, er. We went back. Taeil hyung drove us.”

You don’t know about the atmosphere, but you could definitely cut something with a knife right now. Your eyes shift from person to person, nothing unusual about them except for the two of you.

“Does anyone want to come get ramen? I’m hungry,” Jaemin suggests quietly.

Jeno shrugs, getting up.

“I just had a cup of ramen,” Donghyuck begins before breaking into a smile. “Too much ramen can never hurt.”

“I’ll pass,” you say, ready to fall asleep any moment, if it somehow alleviates the messy scribbles in your head.

“Me too,” Renjun says, back to playing out the tunes softly.

Your fingers tap against the armrest of the couch, occasionally scratching it out of boredom. The atmosphere is still just as thick but you can't say much about it hanging there.

“You’re not sleeping,” Renjun says suddenly, more of a statement than a question. “You look tired.”

“Yeah.” It’s all you can manage. 

“Is your hangover gone?”

You cough when you try to answer, getting more nervous with each passing moment.

Renjun slowly walks towards the coffee table, picking up the bottle of water to offer it to you. You utter a short ‘thanks’ and before he can get back, you tug at his sleeve. Your breathing is sharp but you don’t react much when he sits beside you, legs outstretched in front of him.

“Your roots are showing,” you note, hand involuntarily reaching out before you stop yourself.

Renjun sighs. “What’s wrong? You don’t- You don’t have to—”

He clears his throat.

“—You don’t have to pretend around me.”

There’s a rustle of cloth as he shifts to turn to you, eyes concerned when they look over.

“I’m just...sad,” you admit, the feeling weighing down when you do. “What, you never have days like these?”

Everyone does, don’t they? The truth is, sometimes you get a little sick listening to your songs. If you don’t hate it at least once, is it worth it at all?

The monthly breakdowns have taken a hard turn now that you don’t have much to do. No exams, no more weekly gigs due to Odd Fruit’s renovation and most importantly, hardly any inspiration. You don’t know how to do things unless you’re on the run. It’s so stupid.

You speak of dreams and yet, yours feel void.

“I do. A lot, some weeks.”

Renjun hesitates. You know he’s dying to talk about last night, he’s never been the sort to let feelings rot inside his stomach. But how do you tell him that despite knowing life’s full of ups and downs, no one’s bothered to explain to you which is which? You’ve never lived life with clarity. 

Sometimes life hands you tangerines instead of lemons. Sometimes they’re still as sour.

You look back at Renjun, heart churning with feelings you don’t understand. From wide eyes to his full lips, there’s a way you can’t help but stare. It wasn’t the alcohol—you still want to kiss him. Maybe you should start with an apology, maybe those are meant to be said out loud sometimes.

“I’m sorry I… I ‘m sorry I kissed you,” you say, finally. “Without warning.”

You wonder how you turned into this. Head over heels for something that might not even be real. 

“I’m not mad,” he mumbles, “Just don’t go around kissing strangers.”

You let out a short laugh, rubbing your arm. It’s not like you to explain yourself but for him, you’d spill every single thought that crosses your head. Does he know that? You’d never let him but now—you can’t say you mind.

Quiet.

“I- I may not always know what I’m doing, Renjun,” you start. “I want things and I don’t know how to get them. Sometimes I don’t even know what I truly want.”

There’s a short pause when Renjun draws nearer.

“You want to make music,” he says with certainty, gaze trailing over your eyes, then nose, then lips. “You want to have fun…”

Your heartbeat quickens despite everything.

“...And right now, you want to kiss me.”

It’s partly the confidence, and partly the fact that his lips are less than three inches from yours, that you close the gap without hesitation. 

It’s different—of course, it’s different this time. There’s no goddamn alcohol and the amount of clarity you can taste with your mouths pressed together is more than you’ve ever had. All the sounds in the world fall silent, replaced by the rhythm of your lips moving against his. Renjun’s hair is soft and he hums when you run your fingers through them, not song enough but still full of melody.

You pull apart after a few minutes, breathing heavily before you push your lips against him again, rising to keep your leg on either side of him. For a moment, there’s a sinking feeling and then a soaring one, and it evens out to the mellow drumming of your heart against your chest as Renjun holds your waist with the same delicate desire as ever. 

The second time you pull apart, Renjun breaks into the widest smile you’ve ever seen on him. You can’t help but reciprocate, burying your head against his shoulder.

“I think you should get off me.”

You pull back, frowning severely. 

“Oh, that’s very romantic,” you huff, eyebrows furrowed as you move to sit beside him, crossing your arms. 

“Hey.”

You look at him and he takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing over the back. Somehow, the gesture calms a part of you down, a part that hasn’t been calm for a very long time. You smile without realizing, leaning in for another kiss when the door slams open.

You yelp, clutching Renjun’s hand harder with just about the same force he does. 

“Jeno.”

You turn around to see Jaemin glaring at Jeno on his knee, Donghyuck fallen over his leg and both of their faces scrunched in pain. Jaemin shoots the two of you an embarrassed smile, scratching the back of his head.

“Did you guys know this room isn’t all that soundproof? I can’t believe the neighbours didn’t complain.”

The tip of Renjun’s ears flare red, and he points an accusing finger at the three of them.

“You were spying on us!”

Jaemin clears his throat but Donghyuck snorts before he can say anything.

“You’re still holding hands, lover boy.”

The statement flusters Renjun further but he doesn’t let go.

“Look, did the two of you think we’re stupid?” Donghyuck continues. “God, we thought your pining romance would, like, break up our band or something.”

You flush deeper, averting your eyes. 

“You cry at romantic comedies,” Renjun provokes.

Donghyuck stutters something incomprehensive before crossing his arms indignantly.

“We’re glad you’re dating now!” Jaemin butts in. “Ah, I can’t wait for all the love songs. The two of you do great on those!”

Renjun turns a brighter shade of red. You’re not going to be the one to tell Jaemin that he’s not helping at all but you sigh instead, resting your forehead against Renjun’s shoulder. 

“Ugh,” Donghyuck makes a gagging sound. “Does this mean you’re going to be all heart eyes in here? Right in front of my innocent eyes?” 

He shuts up when he receives four glares all at once, the air turning dry.

“I’m guessing you guys didn’t buy any ramen,” Renjun says, sighing.

“Shall we go?” you ask, looking at him.

He nods, smiling at you.

“You guys don’t mind us crashing your date, do you?” Jaemin says, wrapping an arm each around the two of you.

“I’m not complaining.” You shrug.

“I heard there’s a new flavour. Tastes like crap apparently,” Renjun says.

There’s collective laughter and Renjun beams, walking over to the door with you in tow. Every once in a while, you don’t mind peeling off the layers of a tangerine, especially since winter is near. 

You were right, Renjun did change his perfume to something more citrus-y. It’s the little things that build up in simplicity and it’s the little things that give everything flavour, from songs to journeys. 

Crackle. Shrrk. Rustle. 

“Dream,” you say, the noodles slipping through the chopsticks. 

The others look at you quizzically, as if you’d suggested the most ridiculous thing ever.

“That’s the name. Our band!” 

Under the convenience store lights, it somehow makes sense—and that’s one of the only moments of clarity you need.

[lilakyy]

SPAMANO FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS

Fanfiction means a lot to me.because that´s how I learned to speak English fluently, which is why I´ve been wanting to do this for a long time but I thought that no one would be interested in this. I realized that even if just one person discovers a fic they like because of me then that´s good enough. So, here it is: a shit ton of spamano.

(I didn´t include George Devalier because I feel like everyone knows about his stories by now)

Neighbours 

Antonio and Lovino live in the same neighbourhood but don't know each other personally. Lovino sees Antonio jogging every day and quite enjoys his tan and shirtlessness. Lovi tries to get Toni to notice him by conveniently gardening or getting the mail or w/e at the same time that the other jogs, but they end up meeting by something unplanned, awkward, and cute.

This is from the kink meme and it´s really cute- perfect for when you need to cheer up!

The rose family by thegoliathbeetle​

Antonio was the best football player in the high school team. Until a certain Lovino Vargas arrives. Lovino is gifted, ruthless, and brilliant on the field. Antonio finds it all rather endearing, much to Lovino's chagrin. And somehow, this has something to do with 'being true to yourself' and all that jazz. -Spamano oneshot. Human AU.

This is one of my all time favoirtes when it comes to Hetalia Fanfiction in general, extremely cute and brilliantly written.

The Prince and the Pauper by 78meg9

When Prince Feliciano goes missing, it is up to a poor servant boy Romano to step in to take his place and thwart an evil plan to take over the kingdom. However, falling in love was something neither one anticipated. Based off Barbie's Princess and the Pauper.

This fic is exactly what it sounds like. It was a really fun read for me :)

Singles by StarsMadeinHeaven

AU Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert are three friends who suffered their first heartbreaks at the age of fifteen, and made a pact to never fall in love again. That will change for Antonio when he first lays eyes on a brown-haired young man in a club...

we need to talk about this fanfic, it´s absolutely gorgeous and kept me on edge the whole time

A new life by Sheena Wilde

Slave AU. Owing huge family debts, Antonio is made a slave to the Vargas household and a personal servant to Lovino, but the wealthy patrician seems not to recognize him from their shared childhood, and the sex only complicates things.

It‘s been quite a while since I‘ve read this one but I remember liking it a lot!

una notte a napoli by Alexander Ryan

Antonio visits Naples with some old friends, Gilbert and Francis. During a drunken night, Antonio finds himself at the beach to hear a gentle song being carried upon the breeze. Atop a balcony is a man Antonio deems as an angel, but alas, as soon as this 'angel' spots him, he retreats back into the house, leaving Antonio to stand there, alone. The next day, they run into each other again - quite literally - and to apologize for being drunk and staring that night, Antonio offers to buy Lovino lunch and a sweet. Lovino begrudgingly agrees and thus, romance sparks. The problem? Antonio's only in Naples for a week.

I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THIS FANFIC! I actually started learning Italian because of this. It’s really beautiful, extremely sad. Also- I‘m sorry to my friends that were annoyed by me talking about this fic.

An antipodean tale of love by ChibiAnimefreak

Antonio and Lovino have been friends for as long as either of them can remember, but when one day "friends" is pushed just a bit farther, how will they deal with it? And how far will they go?

This one is beautiful as well! The emotional conflict is very well written and even the smut part is very well written.

Promise me tomorrow by watanabemaya

For there are no words which could ever suffice to express just how much they mean to each other; and yet, as Spain wraps his arms around the small of his frame, Romano knows that that alone is enough. It isn't much, but it is enough. / SpaMano oneshot.

Ahhhh I just love how the characters and their relationship are written in this one!

The gaming of the shrew by Shadowcatxx

This story is a Hetalia-spoof based on Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew (1593-4). Lovino Vargas is a rich Italian heir, whose shrewish nature can't be tamed. Enter the fortune-hunter, Antonio Fernández Carriedo. When a scheming group of courtiers—keen to wed Feliciano—convince the Spaniard to marry Lovino to take him off the market, Antonio accepts the offer, which soon becomes a rough-and-tumble farce the wily Spaniard is determined to win.

I really really really like this story and since I’m a huge nerd for both literature and history I absolutely fell in love. (Also it‘s incredibly funny)

Five times Romano unintentionally made Spain blush by darkhue

...and one time he did it on purpose.

Extremely fluffy, will make you smile. Simple and cute :)

The Phone Call From Across the Hallway by TheGoliathBeetle

Lovino wakes up at 2.37 am to a phone call from Antonio, who ideally should be in bed with him, but is not. Antonio is sick, and Lovino tries very hard to keep his cool. -Spamano, Human AU, one-shot, sickfic-

Another cute and fluffy oneshot that I didn‘t know I needed in my life.

Cupid fired the shooting star by TheGoliathBeetle

Romano 'Lovino' Vargas wants nothing more than to distance himself from his grandfather and his murky illegal business. When a shooting star streaks across the sky, Lovino's friends make wishes. And the next day, a mysterious new student named Antonio turns up in class. So starts a cycle of wishing, fulfillment and a lot of red carnations. College AU Spamano. Two-shot.

Ok ok ok. We need to talk about this fanfic. It is so goddamn beautiful that I still feel like crying every time I think about it. Another one of those fics that all my non-hetalian friends know about because I couldn‘t stop talking about it when I first read it.

We the dreamers by TheGoliathBeetle

New York City, 1940: Antonio is a recently arrived refugee from Spain, a scarred soldier with firm political convictions. For Lovino, everything is pointless and nothing ever lasts. The two of them live, love and dream desperately, as World War Two threatens to take it all away. -Spamano, three-shot-

Very dark but incredibly beautiful. One of these fanfics that give you the kind of excitement that only a good story can give you.

Bottoms! Up by SunnyDayinFebruary

Follow Lovino on his weird and, well, at least quite interesting trip around Europe in order to find out some of the greatest secrets ever about himself, Europe, tomato-shaped alarm clocks and the past of his lovely, but complicated Spanish partner. This story is actually a part two, which I didn‘t read and I don‘t think it is required to but in case you want to read it, you can find it here

I just love this story so much, it‘s incredibly cute and funny (like really really really funny) and made me fall in love with every hetalia character mentioned. Also, this has like 80 long chapters so get ready for a long term relationship with this fanfic.

Spin the bottle by 78meg9

If you're going to play spin the bottle, you've got to have the balls to kiss people. At least that's what Lovino thinks. 

a really cute and fluffy oneshot

Of vending mashines and night clubs by bubbleteadesu

AU (human names used) ; Lovino Vargas is an aspiring artist who struggles with the pressure of having a world-renowned landscape artist as his brother. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo is a jobless man, who enjoys living in the present (too much, actually) and takes life one step at a time. A chance meeting one winter night by a certain bright red vending machine leads to another and another until they form an unlikely friendship. One day, Antonio is offered a job as a bartender at his friend's bar and he asks Lovino to work with him there. As they begin to spend more time together, Lovino is confronted by Antonio's new feelings for him and his own feelings for Antonio. But, is he ready to accept them?

I´m so in love with the way the characters are written- especially Lovino! It´s really to write him in a way that isn´t annoying to read while still remaining true to the character; which is what this author did in a really beautiful way.

Bad hair day by spinyfruit

Lovino works at a hair salon and Antonio's a daily customer who comes by with any excuse so he can talk. To figure out how to get Antonio to like him, Lovino visits Emma (Belgium) quite often, and unintentionally makes Antonio jealous. Then the game of wooing begins. - Spamano fluffiness - ONESHOT.

Really cute and a quick read that´ll leave you grinning like an idiot

Haze by ChampagneSly

A random AU in which Romano is best friends with Veronika, who happens to be engaged to Alfred, who happens to also be Romano’s friend. Veronika has a bachelorette party and Romano, in his role as incredibly charming and handsome gay BFF, attends. Alfred would like details, please. Romano wishes he could remember what happened after the fourth gin martini.                       Oh, and Spain’s a stripper.

This fic is really cute and funny, I´ve read it about ten times and I recommend everyone else to do so as well.

Rebels in a sleeping city by norvegiae

"I felt like we were in limbo, two blindingly awake rebels in this sleeping city. I didn't know your reasons for being up and about. But, you were, and so was I, grinning at you like it was going out of fashion."

the kind of fanfic that will make you cry at 3 am but it´ll be worth it because it´s just so beautiful

How to care for your spain by AlexanderRyan

A guide written and published by Romano Italia. Strong (basically obvious) hints to Spamano.

really cute, simple + AlexanderRyan´s beautiful writing style

Change in routine by Roxi2Star

A look at Lovino and Antonio's changing morning routine.

I come back to reading this fic almost every month. It´s a really cute and fluffy OS that is written in a very interesting way.

The art of flying by TheGoliathBeetle

They’re both a little bit damaged, a little bit unscathed. Lovino can only truly see the world when Antonio describes it to him. Words can be magical, words can drive the darkness away. –Spamano one-shot. Blind!Lovino, Writer!Antonio, College AU-

kinda sad but really really beautiful, describes their relationship in a beautiful way.

Underwater Land  by satsukiarisa

Human names and A.U: Antonio was a merman. Lovino hated water. It was truly a match made in heaven.

This one is very sweet and funny and I really enjoyed readig it :)

The Romantic Developments of Antonio and Lovino Through Texts by Spinyfruit

Texting started gaining popularity in 1999, but it wasn't until the year 2007 that iPhones came out: then shit got serious and countries started texting each other. This is the story of how one happy-go-lucky idiot, and one stubborn idiot finally get together. It only took a few hundred years. Mainly Spamano with side FrUK, PruCan, Gerita, AmeriPan, and others.

ahhhh I love this one so much...I really like the texting theme!

Braces by Roxi2Star

Antonio just got braces, and is feeling very self conscious of them. Maybe Lovino, a cute kid in his grade ho also has them can make him feel better about having braces, and maybe realize their not so bad. Ok so maybe he becomes less self conscious of them, but in the braces are a pain. Especially when their stuck to another pair.

I was really happy when I rediscovered this one, as someone who had to wear braces for five years in total this is even funnier to me...

(Non Spamano Fanfiction) 

Asylum (Usuk GerIta)  by thealphagay

1963; Feliciano Vargas is the newest patient at Bitterwell Mental Asylum. One problem, there's nothing wrong with him. Trying to escape will be hard, trying to understand the dark asylum will be even harder. Because behind those gated walls are torturous methods, strange patients, and even stranger doctors.

Based loosely off American Horror Story: Asylum

i know i know this is a spamano masterlist but I really think that this fic deserves more appreciation , because it´s really cool. I had a lot of fun reading it even tho I normally don´t like Usuk that much.

[god-shops-at-thot-topic]

Okay so I had a real wack idea and that is: Jekyll and Hyde but in Danny Phantom AU. Basically it would be like an episode where Dr. Henry Jekyll becomes a new teacher at Casper High and right after he arrives a new ghostly menace (Hyde) shows up to terrorize Amity Park. I’ll put more info under this if you’re interested in my ramblings. 

Okay so basically, when Henry Jekyll was in college he got in an accident that  involved a homemade/really shitty ghost portal that he and (Hastie? Robert? Maybe something else?) Lanyon built. Lanyon and him had a fight over it and after Lanyon leaves the room to calm down Jekyll says “fuck it yolo” and decides to start up the machine himself. It blows up in his face giving him a scar on his right cheek and turns him into a half ghost. His halfa form appears younger than Henry and seems to have a bit of a mind of its own (due to the shoddy construction of the ghost portal). He calls himself Hyde because his first instinct was “HIDE” when security, medical personnel, and other assorted people on campus run to the wrecked lab. The name Edward comes later mostly as a personal “Ooo I like that name” kinda thing (if anyone has a better idea for this please share because im a dummy and can’t think of anything). Jekyll comes back and since he has the scar on his face Lanyon thinks he caused the explosion on purpose and whoop there goes their friendship. They end up both getting the blame but it’s less of a “you tried to blow up the school” thing and more of a “you really fucked up on your experiment and must have really miscalculated” thing. The school has their families pay for most of the damages (which is a-okay because they both come from wealthy families) and it just ends up becoming sort of an on campus joke. 

Years go by and Hyde ends up getting more and more of his own personality. At first he was almost completely influenced by Jekyll but now it’s become more like Hyde is a separate ghost possessing Jekyll. This becomes a problem when, as Jekyll is working in his lab, Hyde decides he’s bored and takes over. Jekyll ends up developing a chemical to control the transformations (HJ7) and put him back in charge of the situation. It works for a while but then Henry starts seeming black out for times, and what he hears about his actions as he’s blacked out makes him realize that Hyde is taking control/possessing his human form (basically green eyed Jekyll type scenario). This freaks Henry out, so he decides he’s going to find professional help. Low and behold, Amity Park, the town where some of the most famous ghost hunters live in, has a job opening for a new chemistry teacher at the local high school. Jekyll easily gets the job and starts working immediately. 

Henry soon becomes the teacher everyone either totally loves or totally hates. He’s very passionate about chemistry but knows a lot about other scientific fields and will talk to students about their favorite studies. Because of his passion for chemistry though, he grades very harshly and does not tolerate disruptions such as talking during lectures and arriving tardy (without a good excuse). This is what causes the great divide on the students opinions of him. Everyone stands on one side or the other. Everyone except Danny Fenton. Danny is the child of scientists, the local ghost hunters Jack and Maddie Fenton, and is very passionate about astronomy and wants to work for NASA when he grows up. The problem is he’s always either missing, tardy to, or sleeping in class. He also doesn’t really seem to grasp the material. Dr. Jekyll is torn because he can tell that Danny loves science and he has had really great conversations with him about astronomy but he’s just upset at how Danny is in his class. He ends up deciding that he will take the boy under his wing and tutor him to help him pass. This will also get him closer to Danny’s parents who he thinks can help him with his Hyde problem. 

Danny goes after school for tutoring (surprisingly there were no rogue ghosts attacking today) and waits for Dr. Jekyll to show up. And waits. And waits. Then his ghost sense goes off and he just can’t wait anymore. Danny grabs his bag and runs into down the hall to the boys room where, with a quick “I’m going ghost!” he’s off to fight the ghostly menace of the day. When he spots the spirit, he sees this is one that he’s never fought before. He’s tall and quite lean with bluish skin, venomous green eyes, green hair pulled into a flaming ponytail, and a nasty scar across the right side of his face. The ghost takes notice that Danny’s there and a fight ensues. And then it ends when Danny gets yeeted through a wall and the ghost disappears. At least Danny was able to pick up that the new ghost’s name is Edward Hyde during the fight. He goes home to work on his homework go to sleep. He just crashes right into bed and sleeps till the next day. 

When he gets to school, Dr. Jekyll comes up to him and apologizes that he couldn’t make it to the tutoring session and that an emergency had come up that he had to attend to. Danny was like no biggie and continued on with the day. He talked with Sam and Tucker about this new ghost. They go over where he may have come from, if he’s working for Vlad, and all the other possibilities including that it could be that Dr. Jekyll may be a halfa like Danny and Vlad, but that got brushed off as wrong (”That ghost did not seem like the kind of guy who’d have a PHD. He’s a MR. Hyde at best, not a Dr. like Jekyll”). The school day ends and Danny’s off to learn the ways of chemistry. This time Dr. Jekyll is there and the lesson goes according to plan. At least right up until Danny’s lesson is about over. When the topic of talking to Danny’s parents about his tutoring (and the possibility of them helping out with Jekyll’s halfa problem) is brought up, all of a sudden a change comes over the good doctor. He starts saying nasty things and acting like real bitch. That’s when Danny notices that Dr. Jekyll’s eyes are a vibrant shade of green. Seeing this as a sign that Jekyll has been possessed (hopefully by that Edward Hyde ghost from yesterday, Danny wants a round two with him) Danny goes ghost (because it’s not like Dr. Jekyll will remember anyway he’s possessed. 

This freaks the shit out of Hyde because a. he thought he was the only halfa there was b. holy shit this little scrawny kid is that ghost that nearly kicked his ass yesterday c. he thinks he’s been found out and d. holy shit this little scrawny kid is that ghost that nearly kicked his ass yesterday. Since he’s so freaked out, he slips a little and Jekyll comes to for just long enough to be punched in the face by the kid he thought would be his favorite student. This “little” punch shakes up Jekyll but acts as a snap back to reality for Hyde who makes them go ghost. When Danny sees the rings go around Dr. Jekyll turning him into Edward Hyde, he realizes he fucked up. A fight ensues which ends with an agreement between the two (three???). Basically Danny will leave them alone and not tell his parents as long as a. Hyde doesn’t forcibly take over Jekyll and when he’s out he doesn’t cause problems and b. Jekyll doesn’t try to destroy Hyde.

(when Danny tells Sam and Tucker about all this Tucker yells “HAH! I told you!”)

I think Hyde still gets up to mischief but he’s not a real villain just more of a pest. The real villain is Jekyll who goes to Vlad Masters for a side job (cause teaching don’t pay nearly enough as it should) where he ends up helping to develop ghost weapons. I’d actually see him being able to get close enough to Vlad that he learns a lot of his little secrets, just not the one about Vlad being a halfa. (I think Jekyll might be brought in to help with cloning Danny.)

And that’s pretty much all I got. I might make a fic if anyone wants it but there’s no real guarantee on the quality since I haven’t taken a creative writing class in over 4 years.

[gretchensinister]

also TDoP Blacksand and whichever of the NDU ships strikes your fancy

For TDoP (that’s The Doors of Perception, for those who don’t know, a long human AU on Ao3—my username there is the same as my url here) I think I will only do a few, since quite a lot of these questions get answered in the fic itself!

5. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

Sandy—so early Kozzy has trouble believing he means it as seriously as he does. Sandy’s parents and all of the Guardians characters living in the house that’s the main setting say I love you far more freely than anyone in Kozzy’s family.

6. Who would they ask if they ever had a threesome?

After a lot of discussion, the answer to this is, in fact, “no one.” The conversation came up during the ‘60s part of the AU, and even though it wouldn’t have been too difficult to arrange, then, they never agreed on any particular person to ask. Later, however, in a purely hypothetical discussion, they did agree on Aragorn.

17. When they find a time machine, where do they go?

The future. The future, always and forever.

26. Why do they need to have a serious chat?

The thorniest part of writing and thinking about this AU is that I’ve tied it so closely to the real world (there are small offshoots that link it to more fantastical worlds, but the main fic is a real world human AU). Sandy and Kozzy are 73/72 this year. They don’t want to do nothing, but they can both get very paranoid about the possibility of losing the other/the other being in danger. So the chat they need to have is how they can help other people without doing things they think are intolerably risky for each other.

 *

For NDU (that’s Nightmare Dork University, for those unfamiliar, a college AU collectively built upon by a number of authors and artists that puts a whole bunch of AU Pitches and one Jack together—more of a mood than a single storyline) I will go with Nightmare Galleon, because I think I’ve really got my own particular variation of the pair now, so why not work through some headcanons?

1. Who makes the first move and how?

Pitchiner makes the first move, very straightforward, he just asks for Pitch’s number. Pitch refuses and immediately retaliates by asking for his. To Pitchiner that’s six of one, half dozen of the other, so he agrees.

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

Pitch is more insecure by far, but it mostly has to do with Piki rather than Pitchiner. What Pitchiner realizes, though, is that Pitch appears to feel much better when he’s doing the things that he’s good at that Piki doesn’t do. These things include costume and set design, costume construction, lighting, sound design…but if Pitch stops to think he sometimes can throw himself into a funk about how none of these aspects are as prestigious/relevant/important as being The Prodigy Playwright like Piki.

3. Who is the most romantic?

Pitchiner, but he’s also not going to be very romantic unless Pitch can stop acting like any romantic gestures he’s given are his due and taking them for granted.

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Pitchiner is very grabby, it’s true, and the things he does are more obviously affectionate/sexual, but Pitch is also incredibly physical with Pitchiner, even if it is in a somewhat haphazard/almost violent way. He gets better with time, though the process gets set back every time he visits home, and also once when Pitchiner compared him to a rescue cat.

5. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

Pitchiner does, however it’s not in a really sweet moment, it’s more like a WTF moment, like, I’m still here because I love you? Oh shit that’s true! This strikes Pitch as reckless behavior and he doesn’t say he loves Pitchiner until much later. He’s very lucky that Pitchiner is more perceptive than he gives him credit for and recognizes the signs of Pitch’s growing love.

6. Who would they ask if they ever had a threesome?

NDU doesn’t always have a Sandy, but I don’t think there’s any harm in putting one in one of Pitch’s creative writing classes who embodies “it’s always the quiet ones” and has a wit that runs around Pitch’s in circles. This infuriates Pitch, but in a confused way, as unlike his brother, Sandy is not trying to be a better writer than him, in particular. He just is. That’s how Pitch feels, anyway. He’s not at the point where he can understand that art doesn’t need to be ranked. Anyway so this Sandy decides to respond to antagonism with flirting, and it’s not as though Pitch thinks he doesn’t deserve to be flirted with, he’s got a hot boyfriend after all, and Sandy knows this…Sandy does know this, because he and Pitchiner are both in the honors program. And when Pitchiner meets Pitch after class one day Sandy is perfectly happy to flirt with both of them. The audacity in itself is appealing. So in this scenario it’s less them asking and more someone else asking them.

In another branch of the NDU story cluster I think they would ask Jack Sickle, not particularly to spite Piki even, but because Piki is being weird about sex with Jack and Pitchiner thinks that Jack should have his first experience of gay sex with less baggage attached to it. Pitch is not 100% sure that a threesome involving the twin of the man who’s obsessed with Jack counts as LESS baggage but sometimes in college you make decisions that seem obviously bad for reasons that aren’t really clear.

11. What do they hide from one another?

So, these things are kind of all the starting point state for my NDU boys. They wouldn’t remain static if I actually did write the version of the big long NDU story I have in my head.

On the mundane side, Pitch hides almost everything he can about his childhood with Piki, because while they weren’t perfectly harmonious siblings, they still had a pretty strong bond and their relationship didn’t start to turn sour until about high school. Pitch isn’t sure how to explain how it all happened to himself, much less anyone else, so he does what he can to avoid questions. He also tends to hide his family dynamics from everyone in general, because he’s from a money-poisoned environment and the more people know about him, the more likely someone’s going to say, “you know that was/is fucked up, right?” and he does NOT have time to think about that right now. He also hides the fact that he occasionally has idiopathic seizures, because that would mean he’s weak or something. However this last thing was revealed to Pitchiner very dramatically and resulted in a lot more panic than it needed to, because of the surprise.

Pitchiner, on the other hand, habitually hides any worries and fears he has about anything. He shoves all that down and tries to change all that energy into things that could be possible solutions. Not feeling strong enough? Never tell anyone, just work out more! Worried that you can’t take care of your loved ones? Learn how to cook! Worried that you really are just a meathead and that you’re wasting your scholarship? Study more! But alone! So no one will know! Pitchiner also hides from himself and anybody else the fact that he’s thought about and is aware of the way his size/strength can be intimidating/scary and not just a hunk/himbo trait. He’s deeply worried that he’s an inherently dangerous person, and so he tries to act like he’s just too dumb to have thought about it…but he has, and he’s wondered if this aspect of himself is a tool he can, should, or would use in different aspects of his life.

On the non-mundane side, both Pitch and Pitchiner hide the fact that they’re having weird, possibly supernatural visions/encounters with terrifying entities that they nevertheless seem to have some kind of deep kinship with.

12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

Pitch falls asleep around Pitchiner. Pitchiner starts paying a lot closer attention to what he can or cannot casually needle Pitch about.

13. When do they realise they should get together?

Well, at first Pitch is like, Pitchiner won’t worry about me, that’s GREAT. And Pitchiner is like, Pitch doesn’t have any expectations of me, that’s GREAT. So they first get together because they think they won’t care about each other…which is incorrect.

14. When one has a cold, what does the other do?

When Pitch has a cold, Pitchiner has got the somewhat homemade chicken soup ready! He’s got the tissues! The immune-system-boosting vitamins (hey, he may be in the honors program but he still can’t perfectly detect bullshit)! He’s got a huge bottle of water with times marked on it for Pitch to drink all of! Which is good, because otherwise Pitch would just wrap himself in a quilt, take swigs of nyquil at random times, and sleep until he either died or felt better. When Pitchiner has a cold, Pitch is the one who reminds him (none too gently, though) to stay in and fully recover. He will also bring canned soup and huge water bottles upon request. Not the vitamins though, they smell weird. He will argue with Pitchiner to take actual cold medicine and usually succeeds.

18. When they fight, how do they make up?

The glib answer to this is sex, and that works for their arguments and spats over minor things, but when a major issue comes up it’s different. They fought over Pitch keeping his seizures a secret, for example, and it seemed like they’d never be able to resolve that, though they both knew they didn’t want to break up. So…they tried to bring in someone neutral as a moderator. Fortunately or unfortunately, the only person who was around was Proto. Who said some insightful things and some bizarre things and soon enough both Pitch and Pitchiner wanted him out of the conversation. And then they were just like, “Are we breaking up? No? All right, let’s try to forget the whole thing.” Actual apologies and vulnerability are a few years away.

21. Where do they get nervous about going with one another?

Pitchiner is nervous about going to see his family with Pitch, because he’s worried that someone’s going to be like, “hey, he’s pretty bad for you, you know that, right?” and he can’t fully explain their connection and he doesn’t want to have to. Pitch is nervous about going to see his family with Pitchiner because he knows they’ll look down on him and won’t believe that Pitch could actually care about him as more than just a body, which will force Pitch to admit to himself how much Pitchiner means to him and it’s a whole mess (for Pitch, mentally).

22. Where does their first kiss happen?

Pitchiner goes for a cheeky, casual kiss after they have lunch together one day in the school’s main dining hall, like it could be a Bugs-Bunnyish joke unless…But then Pitch is like, what? How dare you? And yanks Pitchiner down by his t-shirt for a much deeper kiss that leaves both of them kind of flustered as they have to hurry off to their next classes.

24. Where do they first have sex?

Pitch’s dorm room. He’s got a single, he knows he’s planning to be discreet, and he’s very clear that he’s making a booty call to Pitchiner.

25. Why do they fight?

On a serious level, they fight because they try to keep so much from each other, but their relationship develops enough that they things they try to hide eventually come to light. And then both of them get mad because it’s like “we could have worked this out sooner!” but unfortunately it doesn’t work out that way. They fight because they care about each other but are squirrelly about deserving care/being cared for.

On a less serious level, they squabble because they can. Pitch is zero percent scared of Pitchiner, and Pitchiner doesn’t expect Pitch to be emotionally controlled at all times and he doesn’t compare him to his brother. Having a raised-voices argument about bananas or Stephen King or whatever is freeing.

26. Why do they need to have a serious chat?

Because the evidence that supernatural stuff is real and taking an interest in them and a few other people close to them is accumulating and talking probably won’t solve that but it might help them get through it all alive.

27. Why do their friends get annoyed with them?

Over the top public displays of affection and stupid loud fights about things like bananas or Stephen King

28. Why do they get jealous?

Pitch gets jealous of the way Pitchiner seems so comfortable taking up space. Pitchiner gets jealous of how quick Pitch’s wit can be, especially in arguments.

29. Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

Pitch falls a little bit more in love with Pitchiner for what seem like contradictory reasons. As they’re together in their years of young adulthood, Pitchiner learns the skill of pausing before reacting, how to be more effectively compassionate, etc., and Pitch learns to accept that Pitchiner really does love him for him. But as Pitchiner is getting more mature in this way, he’s also gaining confidence in being implacable/unstoppable when he deems it necessary. Like the fact that Pitchiner is able and willing to intimidate people is maybe a red flag, but it also lights him up like nothing else. Pitchiner falls a little bit more in love with Pitch as Pitch learns to appreciate the things he himself can do, and care less about what Piki says or does. He also falls a little bit more in love with Pitch as he becomes more and more refined and precise in how manipulating or cruel he can be. Again, not good, but sometimes it’s just impressive, you know? But AFTER this point…they both get a chance to see each other respond to being offered power that very very few people are ever offered, and see each other recognize the strings attached, and recognize that they cannot deal with this on their own. And they come out of this without losing themselves, and without becoming truly monstrous, either. And that inspires more love than skillfully being terrible.

30. Why does it work (or not work) between them?

It works out between them partly because of the horrifying supernatural stuff they’ve both experienced. These experiences are something they share with Proto, Piki, and Jack, but as far as they know, no one else. To have a long-term partner that doesn’t have that kind of supernatural heaviness in their past is, at least subconsciously, totally unworkable to both Pitch and Pitchiner.

But it’s not just the supernatural shared experience. They do like each other, they do love each other, and, most importantly, they’ve seen each other grow and change over their years at college. Sometimes it was for the worse! Eventually it was for the better. Now, in the kind of overarching story I would create, at the end of college Pitch and Pitchiner might break up because of the weird events they went through and now feel like those are something they want to be done with and put behind them, plus a worry that being around the others will cause more of it to happen. But they can’t lose contact completely, and let’s say Proto eventually arranges for them to randomly meet again. And basically it’s like—“You loved me when I was terrible. So I know I can be myself around you, and it can be okay even if I fuck up while trying to go through life while being less terrible.”

[dazais-guardian-angel]

This post has been sitting in my drafts since like mid-November around when I finished replaying the game, long enough for me to write and upload a fic about some of the concepts I wrote here, what the fuck. DGS brainrot is real. But aNYWAY finally, here are my massive thoughts on Unwound Future, the golden child of the PL series. This is literally *checks* 8k words, because I can never shut up!! and because there is just SO much going on in this game at all times, so many different interweaving plot threads and funny moments and incredible, fascinating characterization, especially combined with the games that come after it; I just had SO much to say. So much analyzing and headcanons and crying galore. :’) There’s a reason this is considered the best game, and that’s why I had so damn much to talk about.

behold the incoherent, rambling, unconnected mess of a novel that I hope makes a modicum of sense under the cut:

Continuing the trend, this game has simply AMAZING graphics/art/music, with a huge uptick in cutscenes and voice acting, and I feel like the sound/music quality is greatly improved too? I love the main bgm for London in this game, never really remembered loving it before, but it’s just *chef’s kiss* and so is the song that plays in other areas like the hospital and subway

Quickly mentioning the gameplay, I really love all the minigames, and the storybooks are especially hilarious to play with putting the wrong things in the spaces to create mad libs-esque crack that makes no sense; it’s so fun lmao

The beginning flashback segment with the time machine demonstration is honestly just so funny, for so many different reasons: Dimitri droning on and on with time travel technobabble while Luke, Bill, Chelmey, and Barton represent the definitive last four brain cells. Hershel being skeptical about successful time travel after all the magical shit they went through just like a year or two ago. The way that Bill’s sprite slowly and nervously shuffles onscreen after Dimitri calls him to the stage, like omg I don’t know why that cracks me up so much but it does. Dimitri’s lowkey savage shade he’s throwing at Bill throughout this whole thing. The way Bill says “wHAT” when Dimitri asks him to help, clearly about to shit his pants. Dimitri just standing there completely unfazed as the smoke from the machine flies past him. And of course, “sOmEtHiNg’S gOnE vErY wRoNg!”

…okay but in all seriousness, am I just stupid or do they never explain how they get Bill to the underground city, like the machine CLEARLY explodes with him in it, there was no secret elevator built into the thing like at the clock shop, so…???

also the presenter’s voice is really funny lmao

Still disagree that this is the biggest mystery they’ve ever encountered, despite being near the top; Luke you say that literally every game!! so what is the truth!!

Spring’s face is terrifying as FUCK in the two cutscenes in the clock shop… why they decided to show both of them in ominous, shadowed lighting in those scenes I do not understand a;lskdl;fds

I need someone to draw a diagram of how exactly the shop looks as a giant elevator because frankly I still can’t wrap my brain around it-

THE FACT THAT WE NEVER GET TO MAKE UP WITH HAZEL IS A TRAVESTY, HONESTLY

Belle… why…… ugh

Wish they’d had “Schrader” drop a casual nod to the events of Diabolical Box; it would have been cool :’) (especially since this is Paul so he’d know about all that)

College-age Hershel is just….. the pinnacle of adorableness. someone protect him from all the pain

One of the few flaws/plot holes in the story of Unwound Future that I only noticed during this replay with more media under my belt, is the that the developers didn’t really decide on what kind of time travel they wanted to portray, or more likely just didn’t scrutinize Clive’s fake role enough when writing it. This is blatantly obvious upon the very first meeting with Clive where he desires to test Hershel to make sure he’s really him. Obviously in a closed loop scenario, everything Luke and Hershel are doing “Future Luke” should remember doing himself in his past, so a test would not be necessary; this is a major trip-up on his part that it’s very odd Hershel doesn’t notice for how smart he is, imo. However, later on when meeting “Future Layton”, Paul calls Dimitri out on this exact principle, proving that he’s not actually Future Layton because he doesn’t remember the absence of a pen in Hershel’s pocket in this moment in his past, and it’s a nice little touch that Paul, on the other hand, an actual scientist, would mention this. Back to Future Luke, though, he should know how everything goes down with stopping Future Layton, because he lived it all as a child with Hershel, which makes it even more dubious to the fact that after seeing all this, Hershel still goes dark and everything plays out the exact same way it’s portrayed in the “future” of the game; it’s the idea that destined fate can’t be changed, but the suspension of disbelief is quite high, especially since we already doubt that Hershel would ever do such a thing, knowing what kind of person he is. Of course this wouldn’t be the case in an open-loop/branching timelines universe, but since the game uses the former type with the pen argument (and something else important I’ll mention in a second), I feel like the rest of the game should have adopted this idea as well and addressed it. Because Dimitri is outed via the fact that he should have memory of things he doesn’t, so it would have been easy to simply add Hershel adding that argument into his final explanation in the bar (”my suspicions were first raised when we first met Big Luke, and he didn’t know if I was really who I said I was- [etc etc]”). Even if they didn’t want Hershel to bring this up early else the entire story would fall apart, they could simply draw attention to the fact that he notices something in these moments, like with a “...” or “Hmm”, and then he explains it at the end like I said. Interestingly enough, Clive actually addresses these concepts at one point in the game with Luke in the statue plaza: he doesn’t want to tell Luke how things play out in his future, so that… things play out the way they’re supposed to…? Even though his entire story here is that he wished Hershel hadn’t gone dark and distanced from him, and ruined the city? But then he makes the suggestion that they could instead be operating on an open-loop/multiple timelines system, where in his past he never travelled to the future, but in our Luke and Hershel’s timeline they do. This is only a hypothetical he gives though, with him seeming unsure of how things truly are, which… again, in this story he’s concocted, he should know for sure, because if he doesn’t “remember” time traveling and how everything went down, then they’re operating on different timelines and it shouldn’t matter how much he tells Luke about his future. You can definitely argue that in-universe Clive didn’t think all this through when planning his dialogue for this role (but I honestly find that hard to believe, since he’s so intelligent, and he nailed the realism of everything else to a T), but it’s obvious just that the writers didn’t think it through, because like I said Hershel really should have picked up on his blunder when they first met, as well as later when Clive is surprised to see Flora suddenly with them and didn’t know for a fact that she and Chelmey/Barton would arrive there. Since the time travel scenario in 99% of the game isn’t actually real, I don’t entirely fault the writers for not getting every single detail right… and yet, that 1% exists where time travel is real, with Claire’s situation. It’s a very isolated incident though that wouldn’t be replicated, with only her going to the future… and yet, she does return to the past again, if only for a split second before dying and thus not enough time to do anything with her future knowledge, the real thing to note here being that they took care to show that she was wearing the same outfit when she died that she gets in the future, one she wasn’t wearing when she entered the lab originally. So they DID think about some things very well, like such a minor and easily-overlooked detail here (but that blows your mind once you realize it). All this is hardly enough to ruin the game or break the immersion completely though, especially since the player is already predisposed to heavily doubt everything with PL’s “the town is a lie” track record lmao, but I can’t help but be bothered by it now after playing games like Zero Escape and watching time travel shows like netflix’s Dark, which have bootstrap parodoxes and timeloops galore looool. My friend who watched me play the game blind this time around brought up all these questions as Clive said things, as someone who didn’t know if it would end up being real or not, and so I spent a lot of time puzzling (har har) it out with her… even though it wouldn’t matter lmao.

……In short, if it wasn’t obvious, despite Unwound Future’s time travel setup being completely fake, I’m really fascinated by the notion of how it would all work if it was real. >.> …and I mean, I know I’m not the first one; monocle Layton aus are popular, after all, but I don’t really care quite as much about the allure of an “evil Layton” as I do just about how everything else would be, I think.

Because, like, lets be real? taking the prequels into account with Unwound Future’s proposed setup, the potential is endless. It honestly KILLS me that the prequels didn’t exist yet at the time of UF, because!! so many people from Hershel’s past!!! SO MANY REASONS FOR HIM TO WANT TO HARNASS TIME TRAVEL AND CHANGE THE PAST, NOT JUST FOR CLAIRE’S SAKE. FOR RANHENGELA’S SAKE. FOR LUKE AND EMMY’S SAKE. FOR HIS PARENTS’ SAKE. FOR DESMOND. listen, listen, you don’t understand how much the idea of Desmond being involved in UF’s concepts destroys me. I wrote about this in my last fic but. imagine if Desmond learned about Hershel going down a dark path for his sake and everyone else’s, just like he did. Or imagine if, instead of Hershel being the one to do it, it was Desmond himself; he’s willing to play the bad guy once again, one very final, this time definitely final, time, if it means he can undo everything that caused all of them so much pain in the first place: his betrayals, the death of his former wife, he and Theodore’s separation, their father’s betrayal, ALL of it, and Hershel would never know. When Luke first is like “oh it’s gotta be Don Paolo right” and Clive says no, i LITERALLY screamed “BUT IT COULD BE DESCOLE!!”. JUST. PAIN. And where would Randall be in this future; what would he, too, think if it was Hershel going after time travel? Imagine him trying to smack some sense into him just like Hershel does in MM, trying to tell him that despite those lost 18 years of his life, despite everything wrong he ended up doing, he’s still happy, and so are Henry and Angela. So is Desmond. And Emmy, she wouldn’t want undone those years she had with Hershel and Luke and then Aurora and Desmond, despite how sadly it ended. Just… so much pain. So much potential. I hurt :’)

and adding on to this, i love love LOVE the idea of Clive knowing about some of this stuff in Hershel’s past, in order to faithfully play his role as Future Luke. Like obviously he wasn’t in Misthallory with them all, he wasn’t on the island in ED, he wasn’t at Monte’dor, and he wasn’t on the Bostonius or at all those Azran ruins that I can’t remember the names of right now, of course he wouldn’t know the intimate, specific details of what all went down, but if there was just one npc who was in the right place at the right time at any of these locations, who knows what beans they could spill? Maybe even an ex-Targent person or something. Hell, fucking Bronev is in jail for at least a little while before the events of UF. There are possibly MANY people Clive could have gotten information from to pull off this role - he’s a reporter, he’s skilled at digging for stuff. Not to mention just reading and hearing about large incidents in the news. And this makes his character so much better because he’s admired Hershel for so long, grateful that he saved his life all this time, to the point that he asks him to unknowingly come and save him again… and he most definitely didn’t know back when he first encountered Hershel that he’d already experienced so much loss and pain as well (some of which Hershel hadn’t even gone through yet by that point), but learning about everything he’s suffered? I think it would really affect him, and possibly contribute to why he asks him for his help in the first place in UF: because Hershel has suffered just as much as he has, and he feels a connection to him, feels like he can relate to him, and wants someone who can empathize with him, and show him how to cope. All of these reasons and emotions would probably be completely on an unconscious level, but they would exist - he’d use this limited but meaningful knowledge to try to connect with Hershel more when he’s still in Future Luke mode, to try to convince him he’s really Luke, at first, but unconsciously it’d be an effort to get closer to him emotionally, which is what he truly desires deep down, until his so-called act somewhat stops being an act, and talking about these things makes his vulnerabilities start to show (again, i wrote a fic about this). This all just adds to why Hershel is the perfect person to help and support Clive - the prequels make their similarities even stronger, more than just with Hershel losing Claire, and those accidental parallels when the writers hadn’t even conceived the prequel trilogy at the time of UF are just *chef’s kiss* beautiful.

THE CASINO SCENE IS JUST ICONIC, IT’S SO FUNNY. LUKE BEING SCARED OF THE SHOOTING AND HERSHEL JUST DITCHING HIM. CLIVE’S LITTLE HOP AND ROLL BEHIND THE SLOT MACHINES. THE SLOT MACHINE GUN IN GENERAL. THE CLONE FAMILY MEMBERS FALLING OVER LIKE DOMINOS UPON BEING HIT. BOSTRO CRYING AND SPLINTERS AND LOCKJAW RUNNING IN CIRCLES PANICKING WHILE LAYMAN JUST IS LITERALLY PUSHED BACK SLOWLY WITH ONLY A CHAIR TO DEFEND HIMSELF, I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW FUNNY LAYMAN AS A CHARACTER IS TO ME. it’s just so glorious, oh my god. this series is ridiculous i love it so much lmao

Luke wanting to use the time machine though… there are so many reasons why he might want to, mainly from Azran Legacy. :’)

The statue is the worst thing ever for multiple reasons. The fact that it represents Hershel & Luke’s relationship, the two main characters, who have been through so much together and have such a strong bond that can never be broken, and how it ties into the whole Evil Layton scenario and seems to foreshadow that their bond does end up breaking, as “Future Luke” seems to be proof of (though the game doesn’t really put much emphasis on this; Luke is more worried about the fact that he’s moving away soon straining their relationship, and not the whole Future Layton thing. imo it would have been interesting to see his actual thoughts on/feelings about it, since he’s surprisingly calm throughout the entire game before the reveals happen; you can argue he just has complete faith in Hershel and doesn’t think he would ever go dark, but then why doesn’t he bring this up, insist that this can’t be true? I think he should have). The fact that as I just said it foreshadows how Luke will leave Hershel at the end of the game, something that Luke worries about later on in the game. And most of all, the biggest, worst thing it foreshadows… Hershel’s relationship with Clive. Clive had that statue made himself, put it in his giant set. He WANTS that kind of mentor-student bond with Hershel, that’s how he sees them, just from their one interaction in front of the exploding buildings… or at least, that’s how he wants to see it. He sees how close Hershel and Luke are throughout the entire game, and he yearns for that kind of bond with Hershel, too. The fact that the boy in the statue story has an illness that he eventually dies from, but that their friendship withstands… it’s probably meant to represent Clive’s insanity, that he hopes Hershel will save him from - he is Clive’s light of hope in his despair. Or, to be more accurate to the statue, even if Clive’s madness ends up killing him (which it very nearly does, and by that point he fully expects that it will), he’ll still have had those memories of that time he spent with him, and Hershel will never forget him, and that will mean something special. man though can you imagine an AU where Clive is literally terminally ill too, and that’s why he’s yolo-ing this entire thing so hard and doesn’t care if it ends up killing him in the end, at least he got to be with Hershel one more day; ahahahaha turn up the angsttttttttttttt-

Shmelmey and Shmarton do not at all look like Chelmey and Barton, smh

For everything Clive accounted for with his role and setting, he’s honestly way too rude and crass sometimes to be Luke lmao, even if you try to imagine a world where Hershel did go dark and Luke was changed by it… at least imo

the like 4 puzzles that give Clive’s solving animations/dialogue are the most serotonin-boosting things in the world

“you will come back, won’t you?” Clive asks Hershel about his trip to visit Chelmey, desperately wanting him to stop him before it’s too late :’)

Rosetta and her....... sessions....... with Hershel........ hajkkALSKDLD

Okay but Hershel is kind of dickish sometimes though, despite his whole “gentleman” thing??? There’s the elephant in the room which I’ll Get To, but like first he guilt-trips Chelmey into getting him access to confidential information about the lab explosion, and then he has the absolute balls to tell him “Bill Hawks is being held in the future” and that’s IT. No explanation, nothing else, just THAT, and then he LEAVES, after he’d promised to share every last detail with him. I don’t blame Chelmey at all for tailing them and barging in to get information himself, like damn Hershel, why so savage sometimes in not a good way

which brings me to Ranting About Flora’s Treatment, Part 3: The Finale. Y’all I literally cannot even BEGIN to describe how much the way Hershel and Luke treat Flora in UF specifically makes me seethe..... It was already bad in DB, no doubt, but in this game they are straight-up rude to her, mostly Hershel, for absolutely no reason, and I CANNOT fathom why. He constantly makes the excuse that he’s concerned for her safety, and that the places they’re going to are too dangerous for her, but it all exudes a level of thinly-veiled annoyance, even confusion as to why Flora is so upset that they never bring her along and wants to go with them at all... almost like her “frail” feminine appearance (which isn’t helped by how the games make her feel sick or dizzy or tired multiple times), compared to someone like Emmy who could fight and has more masculine traits, means she’s less capable in Hershel’s mind, which, like, even if it’s unconscious on his part... how about no?? I could accept being worried about her, even if I’m still frustrated at her being left behind, and her constant kidnapping (which isn’t Hershel’s fault, even if he probablyyy could do a better job both times at protecting her), but I CANNOT excuse how short and dismissive Hershel is with her in this damn game; it honestly borders on ooc to me for him, I don’t know what the writers were thinking; do they just hate Flora that freaking much??? He treats her like a burden the entire time, apologizes to people for her, acts irritated at having to accommodate for her, when poor Flora just wants to spend time with him and feel like an equal to him and Luke. Meanwhile Clive of all people is the first one to treat her with kindness and respect and pleasure to see her when they first meet, like when Luke bitches about Flora being excited to see the river and not taking things seriously and Clive tells him to go easy on her (Clive, the one who has been rushing them along this entire time himself). honestly can see why it’s so easy to ship them, when literally everyone else treats her like crap It’s SO depressing honestly. Flora asks them if they thought to wonder where her future self was, and Hershel is just like hhhhh we’re kinda busy thinking about... you know.... important things... sorry not sorry....... like BITCH I WILL STRANGLE YOU, BE NICER TO YOUR DAUGHTER!!! Luke at least is a kid, but Hershel??? there’s no excuse!!! Luke be like “damn I hope Becky doesn’t look down on us for leaving Flora behind... >.>” THEY KNOW. THEY KNOW IT’S NOT RIGHT BUT THEY DON’T CARE AND DO IT ANYWAY. I’M SO MAD

Beasly just gets... straight-up murdered yo... between him and Subject 3, what were they smoking when coming up with the animals in this game, jfc. Test subject animals?? that’s unnervingly dark, despite how glossed over it is and how hilarious Subject 3 is a;lksd

LUKE LOVES SHERLOCK HOLMES THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THE DGS CROSSOVER IS WAITING, LEVEL-5 AND CAPCOM. MAKE LUKE’S (AND MY) DREAMS A REALITY

the intentional zoom-in on Clive’s sinister face in front of the tower will never not amuse me, and baffle me as to why they drew attention to it lmaooo

And okay back to time travel bullshit shenanigans, WHY the fuck does Dimitri not pick up on why him not remembering about the pen is such a big deal as soon as Paul first brings it up?? bruh. bruh. aren’t you a fucking TIME TRAVEL SCIENTIST. WHY DO YOU NOT KNOW SUCH A BASIC CONCEPT THAT BREAKS YOUR WHOLE FACADE IN SECONDS. It’d be one thing if he just couldn’t provide the right answer, but no, he straight-up HAS NO IDEA WHY HE SHOULD HAVE TO KNOW ABOUT THE PEN. “HOW THE FUCK SHOULD I KNOW-” bruhhhh. Dimitri. my dude. i love you but you are actually so dumb sometimes, like holy shit (more on this later though)

Paul talking to Dimitri about his plan is really good; he has a “...” moment before telling him what he’s doing can’t be excused, like “oh shit let me jump on board, wait fuck i gotta stay in character, Layton is a wuss he would never agree to this god dammit Layton-”. jokes aside though, I’m honestly confused as to how much he actually knew before Dimitri’s exposition in the pagoda, and why exactly he goes along with helping Hershel stop him... and what Dimitri was thinking roping him into this. Because I can’t really figure out Paul’s motives here and how they changed, if they did at all. The only information we get about how he first became involved is that Dimitri was paying him a lot of money to get Hershel to the pagoda and to him - he knows that “future London” isn’t real, he knows Future Layton isn’t real, so the extent of his knowledge seems to be that “this man wants to screw Layton over somehow and is giving me $$$ to get it done; there’s no downside here, never mind this suspicious as fuck fake London and all these people that shouldn’t be here”, but then Hershel gave him more information, probably that Claire was involved in what Dimitri was doing, and his concerns about a traitor being involved if he had already begun to suspect Clive by that point, and then he suddenly decided to turn against Dimitri? Even though you’d think saving Claire would be a reason for him to want to help him...? Or did he plan to turn against him from the very start, and wanted Hershel to come because he knew he could stop all this (part of his character development)? The latter is the most likely, though I still don’t entirely understand or maybe I’m just having a brain fart, that’s very likely too. And Dimitri on the other hand, did he know that Paul liked Claire too and would want to save her (and maybe about his salt for Hershel too), and that’s why he got his help? That makes more sense... but also doesn’t, cause as I said it seems like Paul didn’t know Claire was involved until Hershel told him and then Dimitri told everyone at the pagoda, so maybe he literally just said “here’s some money, help me fuck over Layton, not telling how” and just trusted in him that much, even though Paul is an evil genius who could and does put a stop to all his plans with his machines... once again, Dimitri looking dumb....

Clive, in the most deadpan voice ever at the top of the pagoda: oh no, the prime minister is in danger, someone help him

Flora as they’re escaping the tower: “professor no please take me with you instead of future Luke” Hershel: *ignores her feelings and makes a decision for her yet again* Clive: “shhh don’t worry Flora; i know i’m going to kidnap you in like an hour but i’m just trying to rescue you from these insensitive jerks. not Don Paolo though; he’s a gentleman.”

It’s interesting to me that Luke and Hershel keep acting as if Future Luke and future London are legit even after Future Layton has been revealed to be a fake. Hershel at least probably knows none of it is real by now, even if he hasn’t exactly figured out Clive’s role in everything yet, and is just not revealing his knowledge for now, but Luke is still rolling with it... wonder what’s going through his mind by this point. again, it frustrates me that Luke really has no emotional reaction to anything in UF, aside from the statue and his worries about leaving Hershel soon and how that in particular will affect their relationship

I also wonder what Clive is thinking by this point. Now that the Future Layton jig is up, what kind of story is he going with now? We never find out because Hershel reveals everything completely the next time Clive joins up with them again, but in the (unreasonable) case that he hadn’t, would Clive have just acted like he didn’t know that Alain Stahngun was actually someone named Dimitri, who was actually pretending to be Layton, and that the real Layton was somewhere else out there that they needed to find? I don’t know WHY I’m so interested in details like these that don’t matter at all in the long run a;lksdfklfd, but I am... he tells Flora to continue the “investigation” without him, so clearly he still had something in mind, and didn’t expect Hershel to out him quite so soon after that even if deep down he wanted it

Chelmey really cares for Barton and it’s actually so sweet, oml :’)

I didn’t really praise Paul’s character development in this game enough before, but I really do love it, even if I don’t quite understand the circumstances that started it. It’s not something I would have expected with how he’s presented in CV and DB, but it’s very nice to see this be the culmination of his character, and it’s kinda sad that it feels a bit more natural than Descole’s sudden shift in backstory/character between ED and MM/AL... It’s very funny and good to see him and Luke bicker at each other, and how he seems to have a soft spot for Flora... it’s all cute. I just wish there’d been a bit more time for him to talk to them, but that’s what fanfic is for

Don’t make me have to see Hershel beaten up in the street :’(

The sprite of Dimitri standing in the bar is incredibly hot.... damn why are all the older male characters my type >.>

Alright but it’s about time I finally talk about Dimitri without dissing him for being stupid sometimes and say that in short, I love him. He might even be my favorite new character in UF, even more than Clive; I don’t know if it’s just the Liam O’Brian Tragic Sexy Tired Villain effect or what (nah let’s be real, that’s a huge part of it lmao), but he’s fantastic and utterly breaks my heart, in a much more understated way than how the game shoves Clive’s angst in your face, but his tragedy is nonetheless impossible to ignore. The flashback with young Dimitri is my favorite scene in the entire game, it is devastating and feels so cinematic, so raw and painful, and I’m glad they animated that part because it humanizes him so much more. Claire was his everything, he loved her so much, but it is so obvious to me (and to a lot of the fandom too, I think) that his love was entirely selfless - he might have been a little sad, but he was still mostly content letting Hershel have her, and when it comes to after her death, Dimitri would have been absolutely happy not being able to have her if he managed to save her life; he just wanted her to live. He was in love with her, yes, but he also loved her, as a friend, as a scientist, as a person whose time was cut far too short for entirely selfish and unnecessary reasons, and the majority of his anger and bitterness and drive came from a desire to fix such an injustice - to save an innocent person’s life. And the saddest part of him doing all this and trying to sustain Claire’s existence in the present once he finds her, if you go with the closed loop time travel theory, is that Dimitri should already know it’s impossible for him to succeed in this as long as he remembers finding her body in the past - him succeeding would create a paradox, thus, he can’t save her. But he’s so deep in his despair and obsession and insistence on preserving her life that I don’t think he ever stops to think about this - or he does, but refuses to acknowledge it. I’m sure he was incredibly sweet and kind and soft in the past, with her, and with his passion, and it’s heartbreaking to see how broken he is now, how miserable and tired he is, how much everything changed him. And wanting to get back at someone like Bill, who had it all to begin with and then carelessly used them to gain even more, well, I don’t blame him for that. >_> Not to mention his relationship with Clive, which is all kinds of fascinating to think about: the most chaotic, dysfunctional mess of a half-business partnership half-father/son relationship there is, ahaha... Both of them are unhealthy to the extreme in different ways, but with how much time they spent together, it’s inevitable they had vulnerable moments around each other... Clive is the only other person Dimitri would have around during his research to possibly grow to care about, even if it was entirely unconsciously. Learning he was using him would, well, ruin their relationship even more than it was already messed up, but maybe he would visit Clive in prison at least once, assuming Hershel was. I just crave content for them, ugh. Dimitri just deserved so much better, he makes me so sad </3 and I honestly hate that we don’t get to see him say goodbye to Claire at the end before Hershel; sure it would have utterly killed me, but surely he deserved that much...

The utter, frankly amazing, stupidity of Flora’s kidnapping has been stated everywhere, we all know it, but just.... yeah. smh

Seeing the mobile fortress be like *war flashbacks to the Detragon* “Not This Shit Again” Hershel why tf you putting Luke in more danger AGAIN???

The car scenes with the mobile fortress are, at least to me, the funniest parts of the entire game, even better than the casino, oh my god they’re AMAZING. Luke screaming and flailing his arms while Hershel deadpan flings the car towards the fortress, all the bumps they hit riding across it later on, the car just FALLING and Bill almost falling out of it, and then the plane, all the while Hershel displays no more than mild frustration while everyone else is PANICKING... “a plane? This is an automobile!” ...iconic. top PL moments ever. Luke don’t you recall the time when Hershel built an entire mini plane out of a chainsaw and a barrel in ED, come on now

Onto Claire. Claire doesn’t get much screentime, but some of the moments she does have are very good; she’s one of the best and most fleshed-out female PL characters imo, and like a lot of things, I appreciate her a lot more after this replay than I did years ago... LayClaire is a cute ship and all, but I was never really obsessed with it; rather, I’m realizing now I’m more invested in what Claire has to offer by herself. I hate to use the term “strong female character” cause that sounds so cliche... but she really is strong. The entire part with her wanting to save Clive, their conversation, and her bringing him out... god it gets me, it really does. She’s known she’s going to die for ages, and at this point in the game she knows it could be any moment now, so she has no reason to try to keep herself safe; she’s doomed no matter what, so she might as well spend the last few minutes of her life saving another life, and not just anyone: someone who’s just killed countless people, who anyone else would see as insane, who doesn’t care for her, doesn’t care if he lives or dies - but Claire is compassionate enough that, despite everything, she fiercely believes he deserves to live. Because of her own guilt and sins she believes she bears, yes, but also simply because she believes he can still change, and doesn’t deserve to die, despite the HORRIBLE atrocity he just committed. She’s just that good a person. It’s no wonder she and Hershel loved each other and were made for each other; both of them are such kind, loving, selfless people who see the best in anyone no matter what. Perhaps she hoped and suspected that Hershel would look out for and care for Clive once he was in prison, so she wanted to make sure that could happen, even if she wouldn’t be around to ever see it.

sorry I just get really emotional about this part, about the entire mood and tone of Claire desperately trying to save this kid, and the way the camera focuses on the massive scale of the fortress and how it dwarfs them in size... It’s a really powerful and melancholic scene (just like Dimitri’s flashback scene; have I mentioned how much I adore the atmosphere and cinematic direction of this game? cause god I do) with the knowledge of her real identity and circumstances, the visuals and the music are so good, ugh i just have so many feels. mom Claire hurts me </3 she’s so good... Despite the fact that she dies, and so much of what everyone is doing is because of her death, her presence in the story is so strong, and it never feels like her only purpose is to die for everyone else’s development and that’s it (unlike... well, a lot of other pl females :’); she has her own things to do, she stops the fortress alongside Hershel, and literally saves the main antagonist’s life. Seriously I just adore the fact that she of all people is the one to rescue Clive in the end even though she wasn’t at all obligated to (although I’d be interested and cry over an AU where Hershel saves him instead; it honestly surprises me that he wasn’t going to until Claire said something...), because Clive is the only character (of the adults) who doesn’t have a direct relationship with Claire, but they’re still connected by the explosion, and so it makes for an interesting and terribly sad dynamic, even if they only have a few minutes with each other, for all the reasons I said earlier. Claire doesn’t think what he did was right, but she knows what she and the other scientists did wasn’t right either - and it’s too late for her now, but it’s not too late for him; she knows he has a kind heart, deep down, and that he needs help if he wants to redeem himself. She feels responsible for him, feels like she owes him that second chance, after indirectly taking his parents from him and causing him such misery and brokenness... She’s so brave and strong-willed to be able to do and admit all that she does; I just love her. It clearly kills her to leave Hershel, I don’t think she intended at first to ever let him know who she was (hence Celeste), but she’s not too upset in the end, because she (rightly) knows that he will be all right. ;; She’s so beautiful, too... wish we could have seen her interact with so many of the other characters </3

and so my favorite “insert Descole into the main trilogy” AU is where Descole intercepts Claire and makes some sort of body for her, like how everyone headcanons that for Aurora post-AL. (or/also just mobile fortress vs. Descole robots, that’s cool too lol)

And finally, Clive, the infamous star of Unwound Future, thought I talked about him a bit already (and also in this post a few weeks ago). Clive is probably the PL series’ best written villain Anton excluded, I absolutely love him, like everyone does. Nothing really about him hasn’t been done before elsewhere, but that’s not a bad thing; when I was younger and first played the game I really only paid attention to his sympathetic side, but now I’ve also grown an appreciation and fondness for that kind of unabashedly awful, manic, evil insanity a villain like him has, it’s just SO entertaining to watch. If PL was a more mature/higher rated series I’d love to see his chaotic crazed energy played up even more, just to really hammer in how messed up he is, ahaha, but of course that would make it harder to sympathize with him..... and unfortunately, it already is kind of hard, because.... shit, the number of people he must have killed? It’s a LOT. A FUCKTON. The level of sympathy the game gives Clive and the way it presents him at the end is not at ALL relative to the astronomical amount of people that had to have been squashed to death by his machine, to the point that it honestly makes me uncomfortable, and I try to just retcon that in my head, as hard as it is to imagine a scenario where that thing could have come up to London and not hit any houses, because like..... There’s no coming back from that. He knew exactly what he was doing, madness or not, and I honestly just... don’t want him to be such a mass murderer. Maybe it’s wrong to ignore it, but the game wants me to feel sorry for him and see his potential for redemption, and his relationship with Hershel is so good... dammit game, why’d you have to show those houses being crushed. Ugh. Because Clive is so compelling as someone who feels betrayed by people in power, who desires revenge not only for himself but for all the people who suffered just like he has that he says he bore witness to as a reporter; it’s a very relatable position and a good story, for his well-meaning intentions to be skewed and lost in the midst of his rage and despair and hatred and insanity, where his very valid point of “hey people in government are fucked up and don’t give a shit about us and that needs to change” gets turned into “they all need to die even if the very innocent people I want to save get hurt by this as well”, and I really wish that whole angle of it had been played up a bit more, and there had been more of an opportunity for Hershel to reason with him and argue that in the midst of his blind need for revenge, he’s become even worse than the people who need justice handed to them (cue some Descole allusionssss). He wouldn’t have to win him over, Clive is already too deep by that point despite how much he wanted to be stopped, but just having more of that than just what happens in the surveillance room would have been sooooooo good, I love that conversation. It would have made Clive even better and really drive home that he’s 1) kinda right about some things and wants better for people 2) still very fucking wrong and selfish at the same time and has taken it all way too far 3) very fucked up and broken. Not that the third point isn’t already abundantly clear, but... yeah. It would have given him even more depth, made him more sympathetic, and helped juuust a little to offset how much the game handwaves his mass murders... just a little... One of my favorite Clive scenes though is when the fortress is breaking down and he’s still there, desperately trying to save it, still in denial about the fact that all his plans have failed and that everything he’s done (and himself) is about to go up in flames; I know everyone loves making fun of him and that that scene is pretty memeable (he does get bodied so much in the game, lmaooo), but it makes him look so vulnerable, all alone in there by himself, like a child, which is what he really is, deep down: he never truly wanted to do something so abhorrent and evil, but his emotions and mind spiraled so badly out of control and it led him to such a dark, horrible place, where he couldn’t stop himself, no matter how much he wanted to, and in the end all he can do is watch helplessly as the reality of what he’s done and his unwound future all comes crashing down in front of him, never to be salvaged. And he believes wholeheartedly that he is going to die, that he deserves to (this is my favorite Clive scene; he’s so hurt and resigned, the voice acting kills me ugh), he doesn’t understand at all why Claire wants to save him, especially if he knows she’s one of the scientists (as his line of “why are you of all people helping me” implies), because he always thought none of them ever cared about him and people he saw as like him, thought everyone was like Bill Hawks, but Claire still cared enough to want to save his life, even though she was one of the people he was actively targeting with his revenge... I wonder how he would have felt at the time if he had known about her situation and that she was dying. </3 I just want so many good things for him, as so much of the fandom does. He’s so messed up but that’s what makes him so interesting, and his potential relationship with Hershel that the ending of the game suggests could happen is so touching and lovely and uplifting, one of my favorite kinds of relationships in fiction: Clive’s issues would persist for so long, for forever, really, but Hershel would support him and help him heal, and be there for him always, no matter how much Clive would feel like he didn’t deserve it. I eat this dynamic up, I really do, every single time I encounter it in a story, and it’s made even better by the fact that as I’ve said, Hershel has so much in common with Clive, and so they would get along very well for that reason, and Clive could unknowingly help Hershel just as much Hershel tries to help him. They’re so good for each other. Add Luke too, and Flora, and Desmond...! just ahhhhh........ there’s so much goodness. Clive you absolute glorious, fucked-up mess of a character, I love you. :’) and I love fic writers who explore facets of his personality and write about him. He’s only in one game, and there’s still a few hiccups, as I said, yet he’s handled far better than Descole or Randall in my opinion (though I love them too)... just an amazing fucking villain, and character. I wish UF could have gone deeper with him than it did, but even so, the possibilities with Clive are endless. I love him, so much ;;

and some of the themes of the plot in this game, uhh, hit a little close to home in good ole’ 2020/21 time we live in? :’) #FuckBillHawks

Hershel saying goodbye to Claire.... god. One of the top scenes in the entire series, probably the #1 most iconic I’d even go so far as to say. I don’t even really ship LayClaire, but there’s an indescribable emotion that finale gives me... it’s just breathtaking, in the most gutwrenching, nostalgic, beautiful way. I still maintain that Diabolical Box’s ending is sadder than this one, for a multitude of reasons, just comparing the stories and situations the characters are in, but I 100% don’t blame people for bawling at this scene more than any other, just because of the way it’s done yes I know I won’t shut up about the cinematography; the lighting, the camera angles, the pacing of it, Hershel’s fucking kicked puppy faces, the dialogue oh god the dialogue; it ALL hits like a TRUCK and comes together beautifully. At this point in his life Hershel has been through so much loss, so much so that it is unbearable - when he cries that he doesn’t want to say goodbye again, that he can’t say goodbye again, that he refuses to, nothing in the world is more true: this man has been through too much, and he’s hit his breaking point. even if you don’t have the prequels in mind when watching this, as most people don’t/didn’t the first time through, the overwhelming sense of burden and loss Hershel is feeling is so palpable, so painful - you get the sense that this isn’t just about Claire; Hershel has never shown emotion like this before up to this point, so for him to finally break down like this... it speaks volumes. After so many years of holding everything in, he finally can’t take it anymore, and basically stabbing me in the fucking chest would hurt less </3 I complain about Hershel never showing emotion like this (never crying) in the prequels whenever he’s hit with an equally horrible bombshell, and I still feel that way, but at the same time a part of me is also glad that’s the case, because it makes the very last (two) scenes in the entire series hit so much harder, knowing that he finally loses his composure after dealing with so much. As the titular character of the series, Hershel’s development is very understated and subtle, so it’s all the more meaningful when he actually snaps, because it makes him feel so much more real and human than he ever is the rest of the time, when he maintains his facade of being a perfectly composed, calm, and together gentleman; this scene finally say that, no, Hershel is a person, and he is broken in a lot of ways, because some puzzles you just can’t solve no matter how hard you try, and it’s so sad. And this sad tone of loss and longing permeates the entire cutscene; the way the title is dropped in Claire’s dialogue (both versions equally haunting imo), and Hershel taking off his hat for the first time ever, and the pan up and transition back to show the falling snow as “Time Travel”, my favorite instrumental in the series, kicks in... y’all there is no other feeling in the world like the feeling that elicits, there really isn’t ಥ⌣ಥ ❤️💔 the only thing that might even come close to it is the ending of Azran Legacy with Surely Someday, simply because it was the ending of the series, but the ending of Unwound Future hits me harder knowing it’s the end of the timeline, and with everything else in hindsight. And then an unknown amount of time later, even with Luke gone and Hershel only having Flora there with him anymore unless we headcanon DESMOND COMES BACK BECAUSE OF COURSE HE DID RIGHT, Hershel is still no longer wearing his hat, to show that he’s finally started to heal from his pain, and accepted the loss(es), because throughout all of UF Hershel had never really gotten over Claire’s death no matter how much he tried to pretend like he had, but you don’t realize that until you see the ending, until he got one final chance to see her. I just... ugh I love it so much, so much. It means so much, for Hershel and for the series, and that’s why it makes me cry (and don’t even get me sTARTED on Luke’s goodybe, and how upsetting yet beautiful THAT is. yes, Luke isn’t a gentleman yet, and Hershel finally learns that maybe he doesn’t always have to be one, either :’’’’’’)

Unwound Future is a masterpiece. Diabolical Box has my favorite characters and story for the new characters, and favorite settings, personally, but Unwound Future is such top-tier storytelling and writing; it feels so epic and sweeping and (here i go again) cinematic, it’s so polished and everything flows so well, the pacing is wonderful, everything ties up so perfectly and there’s very little I would change Flora bitching aside and practically nothing that feels like filler, even though some of it technically is. The tone stays consistent and they really push the boundaries of how serious and heavy these games can be, and it works, and doesn’t feel silly or glossed over or too unrealistic or too heavyhanded like some of the other games are at times; the plot twists/reveals feel the least absurd and the most grounded in reality, despite still being wild, and it focuses on some really relevant stuff and themes (again, it feels really grounded and raw, and the least fantastical, which isn’t a bad thing for the other games/movie per se, but being more realistic works in this one’s favor. No one is going to have their family separated and murdered by a criminal secret organization working to unearth ancient advanced civilized ruins, or lose years of their life and memories in said ancient ruins, or have their life ruined in an eternal unaging state from hallucinogenic gas, but being screwed over by people in government who will do anything to make sure they never have to face consequences? now that’s a mood). It’s just a really fucking good game, by far the best Professor Layton game, and I’ll always stand by that, despite preferring DB just a bit more cause it hits more of my personal tastes (DB is still very good too though, don’t get me wrong), and it’s also enhanced even more by the prequels, though it stands perfectly on its own. The perfect culmination of Hershel’s character arc, and the absolute high point of the series. It’s one of the ones I keep coming back to the most, just because it has so much to offer; as someone who is absolutely enamored with near-perfect stories of this caliber, I couldn’t ask for more. ❤️

[duskholland]

I had an okay weekend, I’ve managed to catch a frustrating cold that’s leaving me with almost no voice. Happiful Magazine is a UK based magazine that talks about health and such. It’s a magazine where you can receive advice on how to help yourself, how to take care of yourself. I’m thinking of possibly writing for it, but I don’t know if I’d be good enough for it. Freelance writing is something that I have been looking into doing since this class as an after college thing. ~♉️

Real Love~ “He presses his warm lips to your forehead, and the feeling in your heart is like coming home.” This was a beautiful piece that shows love between two friends in the sweetest way even as their stuck in a fake relationship coming to an end. It’s adorable to see the budding relationship bloom into something more real than either of them had expected. I love that this bloomed when their contracted fake relationship started coming to an end.~♉️

Come Cuddle~ “You know exactly what he means: you’ve always believed home is a feeling, not a place, but it wasn’t until you actually met Tom that you could truly experience what it’s like to place your sense of self into another person.” Killed my heart with the adorableness of this piece! I’ve fallen in love with this one and now it takes control as my favorite oneshot for Tom already. I’m sure something will top it, but I just absolutely adore this piece! ❤️~♉️

Quiet Nights~ “It’s normal, Tom. You don’t have to be happy all the time. You don’t have to be strong all the time. You’re a person, and sometimes people feel low, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” God I wish someone could remind me of this. I absolutely love this fic and I can completely relate to Tom, especially recently. Y/N is the perfect pick-me-up person, shining a light in the darkness swallowing us whole... sorry a bit morbid there, but new favorite!! ❤️~♉️

Underneath the Mask~ Prince Tom, ooh I’m in for it!! Gosh the forbidden love between best friends that aren’t supposed to be best friends ❤️! “He’s in love with you, possibly the only person he’s not allowed to date. The only person that knows of his secret romance is Harrison, and even he, for all his good-naturedness, had been horrified at first when he’d heard Tom was courting a Y/L/N. I’m so in love with this, and maybe it’ll be my favorite when I’m in a good headspace. I love it! ❤️~♉️

Lust~ I’m in for it... Should I be reading this during class? Probably not. Am I going to though? Absolutely. “Tom meets your eyes, and in his deep, swirling depths, you find understanding.” Oh you’re trying to get me in trouble with this piece 🥵. You and your details, setting it up perfectly, driving the piece deeply, simply, yet detailed excursions are your forte. I have nothing left to say other than that I should not have read this during class. (Written yesterday at 1:30 p.m.) ❤️~♉️

The Box~ This is my new favorite, just so you know, and I don’t think anything will top it. “Your heart races as you nod, realising that though it might not happen now, at some point - some point very soon - Tom’s going to fall to his knees in front of you and sweep you off your feet. A large grin paints over your lips.” New freakin’ favorite right here!!!! ❤️❤️~♉️

The Rooftop Party~ Awe!! “You aren’t together, and you know the arms around your waist are his idea of being close to a friend.” 💔 that broke my little heart... “You grin happily, body floating in a suspended state of bliss.” Yup, you fixed it ❤️, and I’m kind of in love with this one.. It’s so close, meters away from taking over the favorite spot in OneShots right now. It’s soooo sooo close! But, it’s still such an adorable fluffy piece, and I absolutely adore it! ❤️~♉️

A Rose~ okay, hold it... gone wrong.? I don’t want the angst!! “He wants to say no. He really wants to say no.” God I really wasn’t prepared 😩😭. I’m crying right now, wha.. wha.. what did you just do to my heart right now?! What?! Why?! I can’t.. oh my god, you broke me. 😭😭😭💔💔💔💔 You can’t kill me like that!!!!!!!! 💔~♉️

Accidental Proposal~ “You love him. You love him in a way you’ve never loved anyone before. It’s all-consuming, all-encompassing, and absolutely fulfilling. And you know you never want that love to fizzle out, or fade away, or be taken away.” That just made me go awe really, really loudly. This is such an adorable piece. This is like.. just.. oh my gosh it’s so pure. I love, love, love it! ❤️❤️❤️~♉️

Lingerie~ okay, I’ve read this one and it is just too damn good 🥵. “It’s a game. A dangerous, heated game, and with every passing day, his eyes seem hungrier as they meet with yours, and he seems to inch closer to you.” The go from oh this 🥵 will happen again to another time with a date because they both truly want more than a fling. And I love it! 🥵❤️~♉️

One Million~ “Never one to accept defeat so easily, Tom reaches up and wraps his hand around your wrist, his touch keeping your phone in place as he brings his index finger up and begins to scroll through your feed, greedy eyes skimming over the numbers. You stay still, trying not to think about how nice it feels to have him gripping at your skin so tightly.” Damn.. 🥵🥵🥵 that was fucking good. Oof 🥵❤️~♉️

Head Over Heels~ okay, just from the summary I know I’m in for fluff! “After a while, the conversation fades out, and then it’s just him, and you, sat on top of his washing machines, holding hands.” And you’ve done killed me with fluff again. This is now my favorite, I’m sorry “The Box”, but you’ve been beaten by an even more fluffy piece. It’s so detailed, adorable, fluffy, and gooooood! The consuming need to want to be with y/n gets me because I want that! I’m in love with this piece! ❤️~♉️

Warm~ I’ve read this one too ❤️🥵 Jesus fuck I forgot how hot this piece was 🥵🥵🤦‍♀️. “For you, there’s nothing more fulfilling than hiding your face into your boyfriend’s shoulder and feeling him everywhere.” Jesus. I know the last oneshot that I have to read before the mobTom! pieces will be just as hot, but damn. 🥵❤️~♉️

Sucker Punch~ I purposely waited to read this for this moment. “You’re surprised by his reaction to you. You’d expected something else entirely. Clenched jaws and anger. The last time you’d been together, things between you had been the opposite of amicable.” gosh and you gave us a flashback. Jesus fuck that was hot.. like I can’t even.. 🥵🥵.. So... This is my favorite piece, like fucking FAVORITE piece! No topping that, it’s not possible for anything to top this piece ever. In love. ❤️❤️~♉️

Holy crap, I’ve now gotten through all of the OneShots for Tom aside from the Mob ones. I’m kind of like.. idk and I haven’t read the newest part of TFG because I don’t want to die, but like I’m about to read that because I want to wait for the mobTom ones.~♉️

I have a question because I feel like you know, but I’m not sure. Do you who know what my username is? Cause like I’ve given sooo many hints and now I’m just curious as to whether you already know or not 😂 😂 ~♉️

Okay, I’m going to be starting your MobTom pieces once I finish my homework and newspaper work. So, like, I’m excited and wondering if I’ll have a new favorite because like, I went through a couple of favourites in the OneShots. We’ll see what happens! Also, still haven’t read part nine because I’m just so on edge! I’m going to read it tonight though, but like Oof just dreading it, not sure how I’m going to handle how you kill me with this new chapter. ❤️~♉️

------

OKAY SO WE HAVE A LOT TO UNPACK HERE. first off I just want to say I’m sorry it took me a while to answer these - I never really know when to start answering and when to wait, but I feel like this is a good time to pause? because you sent in so much and I don’t want you to feel like I don’t appreciate every single message - because I DO !! okay !! so !!

first - I hope you’re feeling better !!! colds are horrid. and I also hope that you do the freelance writing gig! anything to get your foot in the door is good, and writing is always so fun. go you !! let me know how it goes if you do it!

second - :))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

scream. THANK YOU for taking the time to send these in. thank you thank you. all the isolated quotes are like a BLAST from the past, because I wrote a lot of those two years ago. I’ve reread them all apart from A Rose, and just...wow. crazy. I hope you could like...see my writing improve as you went through them 😂 thank you so much, again. like, truly. I can’t say it enough. but just knowing the time it must take you to do all of this for me....... I am eternally eternally grateful. thank you <33333 

third - I’m like, 95% sure I know who you are, but I don’t think I’d ever be 100% 😂 I also wouldn’t ever want to message you without your permission, because sometimes people find it easier talking over anon, and I’d never want to abuse that dynamic that we’ve built up..? does that make sense? idk !! sometimes people feel safer on anon, so even if I was 100% sure, I wouldn’t ever message you without getting the green light first <3

fourth - thank you AGAIN, so so so so much for this. I was so happy to read your thoughts and even happier that your favourite piece was the one I wrote most recently - means I’m doing something right :) good luck with the mob ones!! they’re very different to everything else that I’ve written, obviously, but I had fun with them. when I started the mob series, I’d intended for it to be more of a ....well, series.....but we’re not quite there yet 😂 you’ll see lol. good luck and thank you!!

[appreciatethefoolishness]

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

EVERYTHING IS JUNGKOOK X READER

Do you also laugh a little when you read a badboy!Jungkook fanfic and want some more realistic? Because we all know how humble and kind Jungkook really is, so I'm here to help you! (This is a list parted in two because of the links limit hih)

Jungkook = badboy 

Jungkook = an actually nice and lovely guy ❤️  

⌜(m) = smut, mature

 (f) = fluff, cute shit

 (a) = angst, sad stuff or action

 ✓ = finished

 ** = a favorite    

oneshot = story with only 1 part

series = story with more than 1 part    ⌟

sorted by word count, this is over 90 fics and yes, I know I have no life but I don’t see any problem with that lol

(By the way if you’re wondering why some of the summaries suck it’s because I wrote them due to that some authors don’t write synopses lol)

last updated: 27 May

AND BY THE WAY thank you so much all the writers here for taking your time to write these amazing fics and publish them for our enjoyment! I’m so grateful to be able to read and love them and don’t let anyone tell you different because you all are REALLY good at writing, like damn. Thanks again and have a great Jungkook reading 💙❤️💜 💙💜💚💞💞💞💛💚🖤💜💛💙💜💙💜💚

Animal (m) (a) ✓

[115.9k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 

“As a nursing student you struggled financially but when your best friend suggests a way for you to make some illegal money you can’t say no and that’s when you meet him; Jungkook, an underground fighter who you can’t stand but seems to stay on your mind nevertheless.”

THE WRITER > @cutaepatootie

For science (m) (f) (a) ✓ **

[95.9k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 

"Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science."

THE WRITER > @boymeetsweevil

Falling into you (m) (a) (f) ~ ongoing**

[94.2k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 

"Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away."

THE WRITER > @kookingtae​

Charmolypi (f) (a) (m) ✓

[69.3k words] series pt.0 pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9

“Work and pleasure should never be combined — or so the saying goes. But you were never really one to follow the rules in their entirety and neither were the ones around you. Love, lust, interest. Five people. In the workplace. What could go wrong? Everyone just wants to get something, after all.”

THE WRITER > @njssi

The Turning Test (f) (m) (a)~ongoing**

[67.3k words] series masterlist

“’The Turing Test, developed by Alan Turing in 1950, is a test of a machine’s ability to exhibit intelligent behavior equivalent to, or indistinguishable from, that of a human.’ Jungkook fiddled with your hands in his, humming softly, as if deep in thought. You noted the way his eyebrows had furrowed, the sweet way his lips formed a pout, and wondered what could possibly be troubling him so much. What had he learned today? ‘Creator,’ he began, dragging his gaze up to meet your own, ‘you gave me a mind that thinks, hands that feel, and a heart that beats, but did you give me a soul?’“

THE WRITER > @fortunexkookie 

Bandslam (a) (m) (f) ✓

[59.6k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

“Cocky drummer Jeon Jungkook has never been the type to hate on anyone. But when his best friend Taehyung unexpectedly leaves the band and leaves you in his place, he can’t really blame himself when he acts with disdain towards you. Not even when there’s a prize at stake.“

THE WRITER > @ironicarmy​

Ego (f) (m) ~ ongoing **

[59.4k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6

“What’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way.”

THE WRITER > @suga-kookiemonster

Givenchy & gold (m) ✓

[59k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 

“You’re the supervisor of the clothing department with a lot of useless lingerie knowledge, Jungkook is the jewelry department’s defiant hot boy who flirts in wristwatch brands. basically an upscale retail au, but with lots of implied under-the-counter sex. and when an opportunity presents itself to fuck each other in the boss’s office after hours, you’re both too hot for each other to say no.”

THE WRITER > @prolixitae 

Wanted (f) (a) (m)  ✓**

[56k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 

“ You were a deserter, a renegade, a wanted “criminal”. It was never in your plans to crash land on that planet, and it most certainly wasn’t in your plans to fall in love with it’s handsome ruler.”

THE WRITER > @jincherie

One thing right (a) (f) (m) ✓**

[55k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9

“‘i’ve been wrong about a million times, but i’ve got one thing right.’

or, desperate to get your ailing mother into the best care possible, you ask your childhood friend turned enemy to marry you for his health insurance benefits. the only problem is it’s illegal. and he’s the sheriff. and you swore to hate him since the day he broke your best friend’s heart.”

THE WRITER > @hobios

(Y)our name (a) (f) (m) ~ ongoing**

[54k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5

“It's always been the two of you since you were little. People came and went in your lives and Jungkook didn't mind until you turn into grown-ups and he starts to mind a bit too much.“

THE WRITER > @jjkpls

True care (m) (f) (a) ~ ongoing **

[53.8k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7

“Your (endearingly) shy bodyguard- hired by your father- would do anything for you. Even though you roll your eyes at his persistence and pretend there’s no need for him to follow you to every and any place you go, there might be many more hazards in your life than you let on. And you might end up needing him in more ways than you- or your father- would ever think.”

THE WRITER > @joonsgalaxy

Moonlight melody (f) (a) ✓

[51k words] series pt.1 pt.2 

“When your loving best friend playfully pranks you one too many times, you decide that revenge is best served hot, over a period of thirty days, and with a little extra help from the best violinist you know (sorry jimin). or, the one where during your month-long vacation in italy with your youth orchestra, you realize that vengeance is sweet but fake dating jungkook is sweeter.”

THE WRITER > @gukyi

Falling Skies (a) (f) (m)✓ **

[50k words] series masterlist

Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. Once upon a time, she had called you her sun and him her moon; it was fitting, given the constant push-and-pull between you two. You used to consider him a friend, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash. You often wondered how Jiyeon wasn’t bothered by his behavior. In fact, she often seemed to encourage it. What you failed to see was that she was just trying to show you how he reflected your light. Jiyeon had realized he was in love with you even before he did, but of course she knew. It was a twin thing. So despite the fighting and teasing, you always found yourself drawn back to him. You knew he was one of two constants in your life: the Jeon twins were - and had always been - your one indisputable truth. You were the sun, Jungkook was the moon, and Jiyeon was the sky holding you both up When she died, it ripped a black hole right through you.”

THE WRITER > @fortunexkookie

Bitchin’ (f) (m) (a) ✓

[49.5k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10

“The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.”

THE WRITER > @kinktae

Paralian (f) (a) (m) ✓**

[48.3k words] series pt.1 pt.2 

“Far away, under the sea exists the merfolk Kingdom of Venetus. Y/N is a warrior princess, sworn to protect the nation she loves. Each night she and her unit are tasked with patrolling the ocean, until one night they come across an unmarked ship. The ship carries a dangerous secret which tears Y/N’s ideals apart. In the midst of escaping said danger, Y/N is forced to rely upon a Prince. The Prince of Pirates, whose fate and Y/N’s seem inexplicably entwined. Whether their meeting will end in joy or heartbreak remains to be seen. (A -very- loose retelling of The Little Mermaid).”

THE WRITER > @kpopfanfictrash

Tantalizing (m) (a) ✓

[47.9k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8

“Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge.”

THE WRITER > @littlemisskookie

Equilibrium; Polyamory (m) (a)  ~ ongoing **

[47.7k words] series pt.0 pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10 pt.11 pt.12 pt.13 pt.14 

“Polyamorous relationships are not as glamorous as they appear in the movies. Granted, the sex is better- tangled limbs and wet kisses on every inch of skin imaginable, but not even the sex is worth the mind-numbing jealousy, the utter despair. Because equilateral triangles do not exist in real life. There is no sense of order in human affections. No balance, no equilibrium. You are in love with Jimin, who loves Jungkook. And Jungkook loves… Has he ever loved anyone but himself? On the outside, you smile widely and pretend that you’re perfectly content with this arrangement. But your façade crumbles, bit by bit, every time Jimin goes to Jungkook instead of you. You’re not sure how much more you can take.”

THE WRITER > @tayegi

Worth fighting for (f) (a) ~ongoing**

[43.7k words] series masterlist

“Fresh out of the perils of war, Jungkook didn't think that his task as the newly appointed general would be to look after you.”

THE WRITER > @joonsdiary​

The Monogamy Monologues (f) (m) (f) ✓

[42.7k words] oneshot here 

“ The year? Some point after college. The occasion? Namjoon is getting married and the Rich Man’s Crochet Club has convened once again. Somewhere between the drinks and the laughter, everyone has the same realization: Jungkook has never been in a serious relationship. In the name of all that is holy (Overwatch and booze), the club’s mission is revived. Now though, their goal is much more perilous. Now, they aim to find Jeon Jungkook a girlfriend.”

THE WRITER > @kpopfanfictrash 

The devil’s change up (m) (f) ✓ **

[41.3k words] oneshot here 

“Majoring in athletic training means you have mandatory observation hours to perform with every single sports team at your school throughout the year, and so far it’s been going pretty great. However, when regrets from your past cause your rotation with the baseball team to become a little rocky, there’s one star pitcher who says that he can make it all better.”

THE WRITER > @jungblue

Frost Impressions (f) (m) (a)  ✓ **

[41.3k words] oneshot here

“Jeongguk is so disgustingly smitten with his new coworker that he ends up making a terrible first impression, and neither of them realize they’ve actually been in love with each other for the better part of a decade. “

THE WRITER > @fortunexkookie

And action (f) (m) ✓ **

[41k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 

“Jungkook likes to film illegal stunts around the globe for his dedicated audience. because of you, his right-hand navigator, he gets to travel to beautiful places he’s only ever seen in textbooks. but in the wake of a mishap involving poisonous shrubbery, now’s a perfect time for him to confess his undying love for more than just videography. or, ‘I know you’re my best friend but I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day we met’ au.”

THE WRITER > @prolixitae

Baby, my baby (m) (f) (a) ✓

[39.6k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10

"Raise my child, just for twelve months."

THE WRITER > @pjimims

A well-oiled machine (f) (a) (m) ✓ **

[38.2k words] series pt.1 pt.2

"Your life takes a bit of a turn when you stumble upon an android in pieces, hidden in an alleyway in an area known for its shadows and debauchery. Taking him home to fix him might have been the best decision you’d ever made, but perhaps there was a little more to the android JK01-97 than you’d initially thought."

THE WRITER > @jincherie

The lionheart’s oath (f) (m) (a) ✓ **

[36.7k words] oneshot here

“There was no happy ending, no dragon slayer to save the kingdom and get the princess — there was only him: Jungkook. A simple orphan that was lucky enough to be invited into the castle, a former homeless thief that had found shelter in the form of an elysian heir. Now, after twelve years by your side, he was about to lose you to the world you sought to explore.”

THE WRITER > @sugaxjpg

Employee Perks (m) (a) (f)~ongoing

[34.6k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

“Sure, the employee perks at your job were bonuses, life insurance, sick leave, health benefits etc. etc., but the best employee perk of all was working with a man known as Jeon Jungkook.”

THE WRITER > @chiminiemoans

In Bloom/Lake of Fire (m) (a) (f) ✓

[33k words] pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

“One of the consequences of being a werewolf was the yearly heat that took place for three whole days, Jungkook had warned you not to come near him under that period of time for your own safety but your never-ending worry for him made you disobey his request.”

THE WRITER > @tayegi

New toy (m) (f) (a) ✓

[32.8k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

“Your new neighbor turns out to be the perfect toy for you.“

THE WRITER > @btsjeonjazz

Ramen (m) ~ongoing 

[32.8k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 

“‘It has certainly been quite the party,’ you began, taking a stroll around the table to give his friends time to ogle you. ‘But I'm here for someone else on his special day.’ The end of the riding crop snapped suggestively against your open palm and you felt excitement bloom around the large table. “Now, let me see if I can find out which of you is the birthday boy..." 

The charade of finding your fare was one of the oldest tricks in the book. After years of sex work, you knew that as soon as you said, ‘let me see,’ the eyes of the bystanders would point you in the right direction. And sure enough, as you pretended to identify your prey, the men’s line of sight fell on the far corner of the table. The choice of the corner was quite surprising, as you expected the shy wallflower of the group to sit there, not someone who was supposed to be the center of attention.”

THE WRITER > @dark-muse-iris

Gravity (a) (f) ✓

[29.2k words] oneshot here

“The universe works in mysterious ways.“

THE WRITER > @donewithjeon

Not quite strangers (f) (m) (a) ✓ **

[29k words] series pt.1 pt.2 

“There are two things that you very much hate in this world; first being woken up in the evening, second being woken up in the morning – and Jeon Jeongguk, the stranger a.k.a the guy who lives across your shitty apartment does just that, every single fucking time.”

THE WRITER > @seokwaves

Rigor Mortis (a) (f) (m) ✓ **

[28.5k words] oneshot here 

“A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.”

THE WRITER > @readyplayerhobi

Something in the water (m) (f) ✓

[25.8k words] oneshot here

“Sleeping in is a foreign concept to Kim Taehyung and his awkward, mismatched gang of pals. This is made all the more apparent when they rock up at ____’s doorstep at the ass crack of dawn, as if it is a natural time for any college student to be awake. But when she is informed that it was the youngest of their group who insisted she join them on their spontaneous camping trip, she is suddenly not as reluctant to play along than when she was first awakened by her enigma of a best friend, slamming his fist against her front door.” 

THE WRITER > @vankoya

Roommates (m) ✓ **

[25.8k words] series pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 

“Letting your best friend’s baby brother live with you didn’t seem like a problem until well... you discovered how hot he had become.”

THE WRITER > @tayegi

Snow and Ice (m) (f) (a) ✓

[24.8k words] series pt.1 pt.2 

“ Three thousand athletes from 92 countries from the world meet every four years to show off what they have, the pride of their countries and families weighing down their perfectly sculpted shoulders. This year’s winter Olympics holds something a lot more interesting.”

THE WRITER > @hayjeon

Ace (m) (f) (a) ✓ **

[24k] oneshot here 

“Jungkook only cares about three things: Baseball, painting and his team, but soon he’s adding you to that list when love comes flying at him fast and hard, knocking him right on his ass.”

THE WRITER > @hijoonie

New romantics (f) (a) ✓**

[24k words] oneshot here

“Jeon Jungkook will go down in history as one of the best Quidditch players that ever graced the Hogwarts scene. It seems like he always gets what he wants—his life is very predictable in that sense. What he cannot predict, however, is the newest weekend employee wiping down the tables at the Three Broomsticks.”

THE WRITER > @cupofteaguk

Save Me (m) (a) ✓

[24k words] series pt.1 pt.2

“Jungkook’s a vampire who has an interest in you and you have feelings for him, but he sleeps around with other human girls as well and when you start to get tired of it you cut off communication with him and avoid him so he tries to get you back through sweet gestures and staying with you instead of going around.”

THE WRITER > @baeseoul

Catharsis. (m) (f) ✓

[23.5k words] oneshot here

“No matter what kind of release you need, he’s there.”

THE WRITER > @junghelioseok

Swipe right (f) (a) (m) ~ ongoing

[23k words] series pt.1 pt.2 

“Jungkook wasn’t always like this. Or maybe he was and you don’t want to admit that he had you fooled. You quickly discover he has a lot more to offer than exchanging pleasantries and awkward small talk. In fact, he never seems to shut up.For the better part of a year, he’s held your irritation hostage, never passing up an opportunity to deliver savage one-liners at your expense. When he discovers you’re on Tinder, he turns up the brattiness factor and intentionally seeks you out. Who knows? Maybe if you gave him a chance he could charm the pants right off of you. Then again, maybe he’s just a fuckboy.“

THE WRITER > @stutterfly

Hot confusion (m) ~ ongoing

[22.9k words] series (on AO3) here 

“Jungkook thought his body had already matured, turns out he's a late bloomer and goes through puberty hell when he turns 16. And it doesn't end until he's 19, the worse part is that all along the ride he can't stop the constant sexual arousal he gets around his best female friend, Y/N.While he's confused whether it's her just her body that turns him on, or also her personality, he can't help but feel jealous when other boys start to take interest in her. All he knows is that he wishes he'd stop having wet dreams at 4 AM about Y/N, he's running out of excuses to his mom to why he needs to do the laundry.“

THE WRITER > @partyjunkie 

Blue orchids (a) (f) ✓

[22.6k words] series pt.1 pt.2

“Hanahaki & soulmate au.”

THE WRITER > @inktae

If I told you (f) (a) ✓ **

[22k words] oneshot here 

“In order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.”

THE WRITER > @gukyi​

➔PART 2 

➔PART 3

(Disclaimer; if you ever find a badboy!jungkook fic here it means he wasn’t a total asshole in it and I didn’t mind his character lol)

[fanfoolishness]

Rambling thoughts for Little Graduation/Prickly Pair

My heart can’t even handle it, you guys.  I just... I can’t.  *cries forever* Thoughts behind the jump for spoilers/length, and please feel free to yell at me or reblog with your own thoughts!

Steven is singing along to an old Sadie Killer song because it’s old and familiar

Really the only time we’ve seen him sing this season

Because his feelings are too muddled up and painful to dare put to song

So he sticks to others’ music instead, safer that way

OMG he adds a little “Hey” to “Teens by day” so cute

OMG he does a falsetto part to the first Sadie Killer and Suspects and then a goofy as FUCK deep voice for the second Sadie Killer and the Suspects

I just… Zach Callison’s voice work this season has been so good and it sounds like he’s having such a good time at the silly parts and he’s been so emotional on the rough parts, if he doesn’t get recognized for his work on the show by the end it’ll be criminal

This is gonna be the last time we really see Steven happy for a long time, isn’t it? And it’s so sad because it such a joy to see him that way again for a second, no eye bags, no stress. My heart.

Aww Sadie got a neck too!

YEAH STEVEN REALLY DID DIAMOND EYES FROM EXCITEMENT, not stars!!!

I’m sad for Lars and Sadie that their growth took them different places but I’m so proud of them too!!!

“Don’t you wanna try something new?”

“Well, hm.”

“Except for me! I’ll still be… right here.”

Steven is losing control of his floating powers. Tried to be cool guy floating around with his friends and failed. This is really concerning. The last time he couldn’t float well was way back in season 4. Stevennnnnnn….

Shep DOES seem so cool!

Look at Rebecca Sugar, they truly just be out there like “last season, what are they gonna do to me if I put non-binary humans in the show, that’s right, they won’t do jack SHIT” bwahaha

And it’s lovely that it’s just no biggie

Steven your ship didn’t sail, I’m sorry but you can’t write AUs for real people

Lars is more worried about the cake than about his ex

“Are YOU okay?”

Finally someone is asking and of course Steven is like”what? My problems are visible externally? WHAT problems???”

“Everyone but me…”

Buck got into medical school??? Holy shit, so he was in college before? Dang. Also his bedside manner will be soooooo weird and cool

Actually I can see him as one of the weird internal medicine doctors who’s super smart so you want them on your case but he only says the occasional weird thing like “your gallbladder is an illusion” or “your hormones are like, totally out of sync. Lemme fix that” or wow, I don’t even know, I may have to write a drabble of an intern just being wowed by how weird he is

Classic Steven would definitely buy a jacket for his phone

Awww Sadie you should have told him 😭😭😭

Lars watching Steven slow motion self-destruct like “oh god is this how I was”

“Ah, well… you should have asked me, I’m-I’m really good at naming bands…”

Jesus Christ Steven that sound was my heart breaking for you

What the fuck is Shep’s instrument? Anyone know?

Okay this is actually a really good graduation song and while Sadie Killer is still awesome I love that Sadie can also tap into more personal emotions for her work now, she’s just so good!

I know how Lars feels, sometimes those big events are just overwhelming

I love his leather jacket!

So uhhhh maybe Steven doesn’t control Diamond Mode as well as we had thought given the last few episodes

It’s really fascinating because it’s clear in the animation and voice work Steven’s struggling with so many feelings right now

He’s scared Lars and the others are slipping away

He’s ashamed he feels so aimless beside them

He’s angry that Lars isn’t listening and is going to leave him

He’s sad that everyone’s changing

The way Steven yells at Lars to stop is just so fucking desperate, his shaking fist, holy shit kid you do not do goodbyes well do you

Aaaaaaand that’s new. What the hell is it??? We’ve never seen this from any other gem or Diamond before. DAMMIT STEVEN THIS IS NOT HEALTHY

It shredded the stage and the banner 😭

Digging that scary as fuck musical motif

It has the Diamond mode machine noise in the background — that flickering humming power sound

Seriously Steven!!! How the hell would Lars’ feelings— so much denial

“When did this happen, I didn’t see any of this!”

I love that he touched on this, like of course people don’t have to live their private lives in front of you, dingbat! But so much of his life has been lived with the Gems who did display all their trauma and problems that he can’t help but feel he’s entitled to see how things work out

It’s also concerning because it suggests he is having some trouble viewing people as independent to him, as having their own agency

WHITE DIAMOND ANYONE

I love that Lars is so excited to be back in space with his friends!!

Oh man the way everyone stares at Steven like “bro, clearly you are the only magical pink person in the room”

Some really gorgeous frames of Steven’s face here, wish Apple TV let you cap them 😢

“I can’t help it if my dumb heart misses you guys” I’m CRYING FOREVER

AMAZING use of “squash and stretch” Disney animation theory here hahahaha

Lars and Steven hug gives me so much life waaaaaah

I still can’t get over how grownup that boy looks behind the wheel. I love his hand tapping on the wheel.

So pensive. Poor Steven.

And now Prickly Pair, if you thought your heart hurt before well lemme tell you what!

How much time has passed since Snow Day?

Dammit, I predicted in one of my fics that Steven would feel weird about gardening magically and want to do it all the old-fashioned way…

But I haven’t finished it, alas. And Steven is doing much better emotionally by that point in MY story thank you hahahaha

Also it’s Connverse and adorable

Okay really should work on it

Well, okay, Connie is a cute smart blue flower so at least Steven’s still thinking of her? I really wish she had been here but I guess she’s gonna have to save Steven from himself soon enough.

I’m now kind of uneasy about the idea of them dating… I really wanted them to get together but Steven isn’t healthy right now. He’s really messed up and kind of worse than I was even thinking with all my angsting. If they try to get together now Steven might be weird and controlling and secretive and that is not the Connverse I want! Maybe we’ll get something cute and sweet after Steven starts recovering and getting mentally healthier?

Because not to say you can’t be in a relationship and be mentally ill… but the low point of your illness is NOT a time to START a relationship, and if they’d really been dating this whole time I have to imagine we’d have heard about it. So my guess would be not dating, Steven was too busy to hang out a lot of the time, but still friends.

Dammit I really wanted cute date episodes and the big dance from Chille Tid 😭

DON’T NAME YOUR PLANTS AFTER PEOPLE

Garnet tried to warn him… I wonder how the cactus acted in other timelines.

Does Zach voice the cactus too?

Yep: confirmed, Zach is a cactus.

FINALLY we’re in Steven’s head and it’s an uncomfortable place to be

“I used to be helpful, but the Gems don’t need me anymore! Why do I need to be needed? Stevennnn, pull it together!!!”

And again with the head clutching and yeah it really seems like White’s pulling a Steven in the intro doesn’t it???

Oh god I assumed the cactus was going to be a monster because of repressed feelings manifesting in Steven’s spit but it’s so much more painful that it repeats after him and THAT’s what makes it upset waaaaaaah

Cactus Steven screaming why do I need to be needed!!!

The Gems are finally asking the right questions but Steven is so paranoid he can’t help but view them in the worst way

Steven venting about the gems hurts but he DID have to deal with them at their worst

Oh no, he went diamond mode on Cactus Steven!

The powering up noise diamond mode makes is so ominous, I love it

I can’t believe Steven didn’t almost lose an eye from his own shield right then and there

“Those are my real private thoughts! I can’t let them hear!”

Noooo his house!

Nooooo Steven the Gems can take listening to you a lot better than a magical cactus could, you’ve GOT to talk to someone or this will get SO. MUCH. WOrse.

Yeah. It’s gonna get so much worse. ;_;

[makomaragi]

I!! finally!! finished it!!!

I started this fic in 2011 or 2012 when I first got in to Scientificshipping. People had asked me about how I thought they got together, and I was always like “lol I’ll just write a fic about it one day it’s too hard to explain”

This is that fic!!! my magnum opus. 

It’s long, and awkward, and definitely not perfect. But I’m pretty pleased with myself to finally be able to put this out in to the universe.

Pairing: Professor Aurea Juniper/Fennel

Rating: G/PG?? No sex or anything, just dumb gay babbies being useless lesbians.a lot of drawn out feelings. gets pretty straight to the point. 

song recs: 

the mountain goats - old college try

blue october - picking up pieces

blue october - the follow through

Try as she may, Fennel simply couldn’t concentrate on the paperwork in front of her. The thought of telling Aurea of her feelings was beginning to overwhelm her, and she couldn’t avoid the paperwork nor the woman she thought of so often forever. Not that she ever needed an excuse to speak to Aurea, but lately she was beginning to make them to herself. Aurea was far busier than she ever was with this or that, and Fennel felt selfish for interrupting her schedule with her own business, even if Aurea had said repeatedly that she didn’t mind. Aurea had always said that when something was bothering her, she threw herself in her work instead, but Fennel quickly realized the solution to her problem wasn’t as simple as it was for Aurea. It seemed that the harder she tried to concentrate, the more her thoughts drifted off to thoughts of her.

She had tried once before. She invited her to lunch at the Striaton Cafe a month or so ago. It was innocent enough, meeting for coffee and brunch as they had countless times before. Fennel had showed her a few things she was working on, none of which she had much much progress towards at the time. Her intention had been to make her aware of her feelings, but the timing it didn’t seem right. So they went back to talking about science, as they always did, the professor far more involved in the project than Fennel was in the moment.

There were points that she decided that, maybe it should stay a secret. But that didn’t feel fair to herself, or even to the professor, somehow. Fennel began to look at it as if she were on the receiving end of someone’s unrequited love, she would want to know. Feelings she had been harboring since they had studied together, though she managed to keep them at bay. They would come and go by her own doing. As of late, Fennel wouldn’t say the thoughts or feelings were consuming her, but weighed more heavily on her mind than they had before. The only reason she could conclude was that they had simply been spending much time together than usual, though not nearly as much as they had in college.

She had moved back to Striaton about four months ago now, having spent the few months before that living with the professor in the apartment above the regional lab after the explosion at the Dream Yard. It had been the most traumatic experience of her life, losing her lab, losing her life’s work and everything she had been working toward, leaving her without anything and relying on the kindness of her best friend to get her out of the city it all happened in. She didn’t want to move back – Aurea had offered her various jobs at the lab, none of which she felt qualified for in having destroyed a lab already. No, it was her younger sister that moved to the region from their home in Kanto, and in to the apartment that Fennel still had a lease on for another six months, that led her back there. Mentally, she wasn’t prepared to return, nor did the professor pressure her to. But her sister did, and she decided a distraction was the best answer.

It all seemed distant now. Maybe it was the medication that was helping her, or the combination of that and the project she began developing. The idea for it had come to her long ago, in college, but she never had the time or resources to invent something until now. She had told her sister and the professor about her idea, both who encouraged her to go forward with it, but even months after the fact, she didn’t have much to show for it besides mountains of paperwork containing her drawings and diagrams of how she thought it might work. It was the money that was the problem, nor did she feel comfortable asking her family, let alone Aurea, for anything towards her idea that might not come to fruition. Especially not after everything she had done for her already.  

No matter how she looked at it, however, the repercussions would change them both completely, and she fought herself with wondering if she was ready to handle whatever the effect would be of her confession. It would be perhaps the boldest thing she had ever done. Nor did there ever seem to be an appropriate time or place for the conversation.

It happened much too quickly between the phone call and organizing her own thoughts that Aurea was seated on her couch, looking over the paperwork Fennel had put a half hearted effort in to. Fennel usually would have been seated next to her, leaning over her shoulder and translating her messy hand writing to her, but instead she rested on her desk, deep in thought how to approach this. There was a pang of guilt in using the paperwork as her ruse, but it hadn’t been completely irrelevant either. She had completed enough to have something to show for her work at long last, and truly had wanted the professor’s opinion on it before moving forward.

“This all looks really good, Fennel…” Aurea started, flipping a few pages over to be sure she hadn’t missed anything. “Have you submitted your paperwork to the League to get funding for your project?”

“Err…no…I didn’t know that was something I had to do,” Fennel felt embarrassed, having not even thought of doing so when it seemed like such an obvious task to Aurea.

“If the League approves it, they’ll give you a budget for it. How else do you think I have enough resources to work on the machines at the lab?” Aurea gave a small laugh and a smile to follow. “It’s not too hard, just time consuming.”

As Aurea turned back to the blue prints before them, Fennel couldn’t help but to hold her stare on her a bit longer, even if Aurea wasn’t looking at her anymore. The way she carried herself, ever the professional when it came to discussing the meticulous details of the machine Fennel wanted to build, but a caring smile between glances of paperwork was all Fennel needed to see. Even the way she pushed her hair out of her eyes with her delicate fingers when it slipped out of place when she was leaning down had a sophisticated air to the simple motion.

They were all mannerisms she had grown used to concerning her best friend over the years, but in recent weeks, it was becoming more and more difficult not to be entranced by them when she was with her.

“Fennel?” Aurea’s voice interrupted, and she realized she had been staring. Fennel cleared her throat in a weak attempt to recover.

“Hmm?”

“I was just asking what your plans were for this. Do you plan on eventually making it available to trainers?”

“Oh…I hadn’t even thought of that yet. Er…are there benefits to that?”

“The League is more likely to approve of it,” Aurea shrugged, winking.

Fennel let out a small laugh, blushing ever so slightly. Was she teasing her? “Right, then. Yeah…I don’t see why trainers couldn’t use it eventually.”

“Anyway, you need to come up with a budget. Figure out how much you think all of this will cost. All of it, including paying your assistants should you choose to hire any to help you in this endeavor.”

Fennel caught herself starting to stare again, and put a stop to it as soon as she felt her eyes glaze over. She could tell by the seamless confidence in Aurea’s voice that she believed her project was worthwhile; she knew her well enough to tell when Aurea was disappointed by something, not being sure if it was familiarity in her stance of if the professor was too forceful in faking sincerity. “Um, okay,” was all she could manage, not entirely sure how to go about completing such a task.

Aurea laughed. “I can help you. Next time we get together, we can sit down and figure it all out.”

“Thanks. That would help me a lot. I’ve…I’ve never done anything of this magnitude before, is all. Not on my own, anyway.”

“Of course you have. The Dream Site project was all your own, yes?”

“Yeah…but…I never had to take this much initiative with it.”

“I do have a few pointers for you. Well, first I think that you need to clarify what you’ll be doing with the Dream Mist, and how it affects the Pokemon. Be sure to emphasize that it won’t hurt them. And I know it’s obvious to you, but make sure that you clarify why the Pokemon has to be in the REM stage of sleep for this to work.”

“Okay,” Fennel said with an accidental dismissive tone, looking at her feet.

“Anything else, then?” Aurea looked up at her, concerned by her friend’s shift in body language. “Err…I hadn’t meant to offend you. This is all written well enough, you just need to elaborate on those few statements, is all.”

Fennel let out a deep breath. “Aurea…” Why hadn’t she had a drink or two before this, if only to give herself any sort of imaginary courage?

The professor held her gaze on her, only moving to push her bangs out of her eyes, the action in itself throwing off Fennel’s concentration on what she wanted to say. She bit her lip, standing up from where she was seated. She wanted to go sit next to her, to take her hands in her own, it would make it more meaningful. But it didn’t feel right, not now, not with how flushed she was sure her face was becoming.

“I…I have these feelings for you…I’m not sure what to make of them. I think about you more than I should, in ways I know I shouldn’t.” Fennel turned away, pretending to organize some papers on her desk.

“I don’t know what that means.” Aurea gave a deadpan reply, too quickly for Fennel's liking. The professor’s mind was still on the research in front of her, surely.

Fennel stopped shuffling the papers, her hands now planted firmly on the edge of the desk, hanging her head down, her shoulders tensed. She could feel Aurea's stare on her, even though she wasn't facing her. The option of choosing her words carefully came and went, completely over Aurea's head. "I think I'm in love with you," she surprised herself how easily the phrase escaped her, not once even having the thought in those words to herself.

There was a long silence, Fennel was half tempted to turn to see if the other woman was still seated, though she hadn't heard her move. Aurea had only subtly re-situated herself, learning forward on the couch, her hands folded together on her knees.

"When, um..." There were a million more questions on her mind, why was this the one she chose?

"A long time. It took me a while to realize it..."

“I see.”

“I’m…I’m sorry..I…I just…you have a right to know. I can’t help how I feel. But I have feelings for you, and I’m pretty sure I always have….” As difficult as it was, she forced herself to face Aurea. Aurea still carried a blank expression, taking it all in. Fennel leaned back on her desk, tilting her head to the ground, smiling to herself, thankful her hair had fallen in her face. This was it, right? This was when the object her of affections realized their own feelings in return, and they’d kiss, and live happily ever after.

“I think I’m going to go,” Aurea stood up, the noise catching Fennel off guard. She picked up her coat off of the back of the chair, throwing it back on haphazardly, staring at the ground. “I…”

“I’m so sorry, Aurea…” Fennel felt the tears started to slip down her cheek now. She wanted to run after her, to grab her hand, and as she turned to take her leave to kiss her gently. But all she could do was watch as Aurea silently gave a small nod before she was out the door.

“I…I don’t know if this is a good idea, Fennel,” Aurea’s eyebrows were raised, eyes wide as if she were frightened, a force driving her out of the room.

No, this certainly hadn’t gone the way Fennel had thought it would. In a perfect world, Aurea would have admitted that she, too, had harbored such feelings for so long, but instead, she was gone before Fennel could imagine the rest of the scenario.

Where Aurea had gone off to, Fennel had no idea. She tried calling the lab after two days, only to be told she wasn’t there – or maybe she had been told to tell her, specifically, just that. But it didn’t make any sense, especially from a scientific point of view.

She tried her Xtransciever. She tried her phone. She went as far as to take a taxi to Nuvema one day, only to find her lab apartment seemingly abandoned. Her Jeep wasn’t in the driveway, she was gone. Her interns and assistants were of no help in knowing where she went exactly, just that she had left in a rush.

Fennel told herself she had gone too far too quickly out of desperation for any sort of answer. What did “not a good idea” mean?

Carrying on with the project Aurea helped her with brought her both frustration and a sense of purpose. Would it impress her? Or would the thought of working on something she helped her with drive her to insanity? She forced herself to fill out the paperwork the professor had encouraged her to do so, giving her some sense of accomplishment.

There was no point in dwelling on her feelings for the professor in the moment, let alone the professor's feelings for her. She allowed herself to cry once over it, realizing how selfish she was, and there was nothing left to do except allow Aurea to come to her own terms on how she felt. Worst case scenario, she wanted nothing to do with her ever again. It would be difficult, especially seeing as how their work often led them to collaborate together on projects; but Aurea was ever the professional and would be able to set anything personal aside far better than Fennel ever would. She wasn’t sure what she considered a positive outcome anymore, besides Aurea agreeing that they would forget entirely about the encounter. Fennel decided, should this be the case, she would move back to Kanto. It would be the best possible outcome for both of them with only herself to blame.

A few thousand miles away, Professor Juniper hovered over some ancient Pokemon bones sprawled out before her.

The more she worked, the less she would have time to think about what was going on in Unova. The team of scientists she was assisting didn’t seem all that surprised by her sudden appearance, nor did they ask any questions. It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last that she caught wind of an excavation and decided to take part – Lenora always gave her the best tip offs.

She was quite good at keeping herself busy throughout the day and well in to the night, keeping thoughts at bay for as long as she could. Going home would mean facing Fennel again and she still had no idea what that would entail.

Aurea told herself she had taken the trip to clear her head, but truly, it was avoidance. She had no idea why she left the way she did that night, not even giving Fennel, or herself, any chance to talk about any of it, rather than being driven by fear far away to other regions in avoiding it all.

Until one day, four or five nights in to her research expedition, the weight of it all collapsed down on her. Fennel had surely wondered where she was – they had a habit of speaking at least once a day in their normal lives, sometimes multiple times. It wasn’t right of her to disappear like this. Fennel had tried to reach her, multiple missed calls, some even forwarded from the lab, all of which she didn’t know how to handle yet.

This had been a mistake on her part, one of which she mourned having not had handled better in the moment presented rather than almost a week afterward.

The professor had never considered the idea of being in a romantic relationship with Fennel, or any relationship at all for that matter. There was a thought that if it had to of been anyone, she supposed it may as well of been her. She was the most comfortable with her. They had lived together on and off for their entire adult lives.

The thought that continuously crept up on her was that of hurting her if things didn’t work out. Just because they were friends didn’t mean that they would be compatible romantically.

The more her thoughts were left to linger, the more she realized she wasn’t entirely opposed to it. There were certain qualities in Fennel she always deemed adorable,  now realizing it may have been some hint of unconscious attraction. Was she attracted to women and simply never considered it until one presented herself to her so openly? She had never looked at women exclusively, but the idea of looking at Fennel romantically seemed more realistic once the realization crossed her mind. Simple motions that were simply part of Fennel’s personality came to mind – the way she tapped her fingers together under her chin when she was unsure of something, the way she shoved her fist against her cheek when in deep thought, but mostly, the way her face looked when she was presenting something she was passionate about.

This was certainly no way to begin a relationship – she wasn’t sure of anything herself.

But Fennel was.

And it went back to what she feared, in hurting her if this didn’t pan out. What was Fennel’s endgame? She couldn’t imagine a world in which she didn’t speak to Fennel – besides the circumstance she found herself in now, of her own doing – the worst case scenario of them having a bad break up didn’t seem realistic for some reason. They had disagreements over the years, like any friends, but always patched things up rather quickly. She supposed this maturity of their familiarity with one another could carry over romantically.

If she was being honest with herself, it was the subject of intimacy, let alone sex that scared her the most. It was embarrassing to admit even to herself that she never had any such encounters, nor did she ever find herself in a position that they were ever presented to her, until now, hypothetically.

The longer she waited, the worse it would be when she arrived home. Fennel was hurting right now, she was certain of that, and to her own doing. They weren’t even involved romantically and she had already hurt her, just as she feared.

There was a distinct, determining thought that the idea of Fennel hurting, and worse yet, because of her, left her sitting up in her tent in the dark.

Maybe she’d make other mistakes, should they pursue this, but reflecting on her thoughts in all of it only made her promise to herself that she would never hurt Fennel ever again. There were still many bridges to cross when she returned home, and maybe they wouldn’t be together forever, but if she was still thinking about it and not dismissing it entirely, there must have been some merit.

If she was going to do this, she needed to be honest with her. Honest with why she left, and honest in all of her uncertainties.

The professor didn’t feel in control of her actions when she booked the flight back to Unova for the next morning, surely confusing the research team more than anything. They never asked her any questions, probably assuming she came out of boredom in a lull of trainers stopping by.

She had hardly made it off the plane when she turned on her Xtransciever, finding Fennel’s name and initiating the call, her stomach in her throat.

Fennel was preparing for bed when her Xtransceiver buzzed. Who would be calling her at this hour? At the name appearing on the screen, she hesitated. Was she okay? Was she just going to ignore what happened and everything would go back to normal? Certainly it couldn’t after their last skirmish, but she couldn’t avoid her forever, and she didn’t want to.

“Aurea...” she couldn’t help but smile at seeing the other woman’s face appear on the small screen.

“Are you at home?”

“Yeah, but I’m going to sleep soon.”

“Can we talk?”

Fennel became suddenly alert, “Right now?”

“I’m on my way. I’ll see you in a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Okay.”

Aurea had hung up the call before she could ask any questions, supposing it was best to have whatever conversation they would in person, even if it was quite late.

She wanted to lash out at her, tell her how upset she was at her for disappearing, but it didn’t seem fair to, either. Aurea had a right to distance herself from what she had suddenly dispelled on her at their last meeting, and Fennel accepted she wasn’t the one that had any right to be upset.

The drive from the airport in Nuvema to Striation City didn’t make sense, especially as it was now past midnight. Was she sure about what she was doing? Fennel didn’t deny seeing her, nor did she seem angry or even upset. Surprised was the only adjectives that came to mind. Nothing was making sense anymore. Were her feelings simply in vain now?

Knocking on her door seemed to be the loudest noise heard throughout the city at that time of night. Fennel must have been waiting close by, answering within a few seconds.

“Fennel...hi.”

“Hi.” Fennel held the door open in her night gown, rubbing her eyes as if to emphasize how tired she seemed to be. She ushered her inside, quickly closing the door, both of them standing in her living room now awkwardly.

They both started talking at the same time, interrupting each other continuously a few times before Fennel realized what was happening and conceded. She was the one that caused this, it seemed fair to hear what Aurea had to say first.

“I’m sorry for the way I left, um...last time.”

“I’m sorry for coming on so strong to you...that wasn’t fair of me...to put you in that position...”

Aurea was staring at her for a long minute after she had trailed off, Fennel unable to read the exact expression etched on the professor’s features. She wasn’t angry, or even upset, she just seemed...oddly calm.

“We can forget it ever happened. I should have never done that to you,” Fennel’s eyes darted to the floor, no longer able to suppress the tears stinging the corners of her eyes, nor was she sure what there was for her to say that could rectify where they found themselves now.

Before she could decipher her friend’s expression further, she was cut off by the professor’s lips against hers, the force of the sudden push knocking her back a few steps.   Without thinking, she had put her hands around her, in those short few seconds, if it was even that, before Aurea had pulled away.

Fennel’s eyes were wide, her cheeks stinging with tears, still unsure if she was seeing correctly through the saline blocking her vision. It was incredibly forward and out of character of the professor, never one to be so direct in much of anything unless it involved scientific theories or discoveries.

“Is...is that what I was supposed to do? I’m sorry if that was inappropriate, it just seemed-”

Her thought wasn’t finished, in a daze the scientist’s lips pushed against her own again, this time Fennel wasn’t holding back, wrapping her arms around her torso to bring them closer together. She had thought about what it would have been like, kissing her best friend, her sense of urgency taking priority over relishing anything tactile about it. Maybe she would regret it later, but in some way, this seemed oddly perfect.

“I always thought I’d kiss you first,” she let out a laugh through her sob.

Aurea was smiling, but still stiff and trembling to her touch, Fennel quickly releasing her hold on her at the realization.

“Are you okay?” the dream scientist asked, increasing the space between them.

“Yeah.”

“What….what happened? Where did you go, what made you do that?”

“I went to Sinnoh for a while...I don’t really have an answer why. I just needed to get away from here, give myself some time to think.”

“I still regret how I acted the last time I saw you. I shouldn’t have put you in that position...you had every right to never speak to me again.”

“I shouldn’t have disappeared on you, though...”

“This is no way to start a relationship,” Fennel chuckled a bit. “Wait. So...are together now?”

“If you want to be,” the brunette was giving way to a sheepish smile.

“You know my feelings on it,” Fennel directed her eyes to her feet again. “So, are we?” Maybe she was being persistent, but she needed to hear Aurea say it, if it was indeed what she wanted.

“Yes.”

Fennel felt as though all she had been doing since Aurea entered her home was cry, the tears that were beginning to dry being replaced with fresh ones again.  “Okay,” was all she managed to say for some reason. In front of anyone else, she probably would have been embarrassed, but she was far past the point of feeling foolish in front of her anymore.

Aurea still had the remains of upturned lips, placing her hand on the door handle. “I’m going to go home now and go to sleep.”

“You can stay if you want, it’s pretty late,” the dream researcher proposed without realizing what she was saying.  “You certainly don’t have to if you don’t want to, or if you aren’t comfortable, but you know you’re always welcome.”

For whatever reason, Aurea hadn’t considered this as an option. She supposed it did feel weird coming over to her apartment past midnight, confirming the direction of their relationship, and then going their separate ways.

“Okay,” came her delayed reply. It meant a trip back out to her Jeep to retrieve her suitcase, but at least she had been prepared for what came of the evening. Far preferable than making the evening even more awkward by having to borrow some of Fennel’s clothes, if it had come to that.

Settling in to bed next to Fennel felt natural as it had the countless times before. They lay a bit apart, facing each other for some reason, Fennel’s grin not wavering, fixated on those emerald eyes across from her. She had turned her lights out, save the night light plugged in next to her night stand.

“So you’re my girlfriend now,” the dream scientist couldn’t help but grin when she said it out loud.

“Yeah,” the professor confirmed with a small smile.

“I’m your girlfriend,” Fennel repeated, reaching for the other’s hand and giving it a light squeeze, her grin becoming more defined when Aurea returned the gesture.

Aurea’s smile feigned, though her eyes were still vibrant as ever. “I, um..I don’t know that I’m going to be any good at this, Fennel. I’ve never done this before.”

“It’s okay. We can figure it out together.”

Aurea was certain Fennel had a boyfriend at some point when they were in college, it not seeming like an appropriate time to question her about it. Nor did it at all seem like a fair comparison to the situation they found themselves in now by any stretch.

“We need to take this slow,” the professor added.

“I think so, too,” Fennel nodded. But there was still the obvious question that weighed on her mind. “What made you change your mind?”

“I didn’t change my mind, I just realized it was something I needed to think about.”

“It’s okay if you still don’t know how you’re feeling. I don’t want to pressure you in to anything. But please tell me now if you want to just….forget this ever happened, and we can go back to how it always was”

“I don’t think it’d be that simple,” the professor replied calmly. “When I was gone, all I was thinking about was how hurt you were, and I never wanted to be the cause of that. I’m not perfect….and I’m sure I’ll still make mistakes...but I promise, I’ll do my best never to hurt you.”

“You’ve never hurt me, Aurea. But you can’t just go running off to other regions to avoid things anymore, not if you’re going to be my girlfriend. You have to talk about it with me, okay?”

“Okay,” came her hazy agreement. “I told you I wasn’t good at this stuff.”

“I don’t think I am, either. And I don’t want you to be with me because you feel you owe it to me or something.”

“That’s not it,”

“Then what?”

“I...when I was thinking about it...I did realize that I’m….attracted to you. I guess I just never put it in that context before. Nothing of this sort ever crossed my mind until you brought it up.”

Fennel couldn’t hide that she was reeling in that moment,not able to hide any blush that came across her face, or how her toes curled upon hearing the object of her affections for so long admit such a private sentiment. She hid her face under the covers for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut, biting her lip.

“Are you alright? I can go, I’m sorry-”

“So you think I’m pretty?” Fennel revealed her face, flashing her most charming smile she could muster through her elation. It was childish, she felt that she should be about ten years younger having this conversation in her childhood bedroom with a crush, not with her long time best friend in their mid twenties.

“I just said that.”

The dream scientist let out the giggle she had been holding. “Well, I’ve always thought you were pretty, too.”

Aurea gave way to a slight chuckle at that, not sure she ever heard such a direct compliment as such from someone that wasn’t family.

“What do we do now?”

“Go to sleep,” the brunette stated, her thoughts on any of it were interrupted by a yawn, now realizing how exhausted she was now that she was lying down in a bed proper. She had not meant to be as dismissive as she was over what Fennel had said, but the traveling and what unfolded afterward had left her simply wanting to sleep.

“Are you okay with me staying here, or do you want me to go on the couch?”

“You can stay.”

Fennel didn’t want to push any boundaries, but she supposed her boldness had already landed her in hot water once. All Fennel wanted to do was push herself the few inches over, wrap her arms around the professor, snuggle in to her back, and fall asleep to the scent of her hair against her face. But, she hoped there would be other nights for that closeness. She certainly didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, especially with how tired she was, she best give the professor her space for the evening.

“Good night, Aurie.”

“Night, Fennel.”

The professor had closed her eyes almost immediately, Fennel feeling a bit scandalous still staring at her. At the thought, she forced her eyes shut, finding herself too excited to fall asleep as easily as she usually did.

Aurea woke up as early as she always did, an internal alarm set for the sunrise even without a literal one. Fennel had her arm around her, she could feel her breath against the back of her neck, her hair moving in time with her breathing. They had slept in close quarters before, but this was different. Her knees were pressed against the back of her legs, becoming aware of it when she went to stretch.

It felt wrong leaving, at least until she woke up.

At the sense of the other woman stirring, Fennel pulled her limbs off of her to stretch as well. “Mmm...you’re still here. So it wasn’t a lucid dream,” the dream scientist purred, eyes still closed, probably still mostly asleep and unaware that she had said it out loud.  

There were questions Aurea wanted to ask her later about that.

[blficarchive]

Dirty secret by iilarryii (WORDS:122,946)

Additional Tags: #Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, #Alpha Harry, #Omega Louis, #Alpha Liam, #Alpha Zayn, #Alpha Niall, #Mulan AU, #or at least inspired by it, #War, #Enemies to Friends to Lovers, #Knotting, #Sassy Louis, #lying, #Bottom Louis, #Top Harry, #Mpreg, #Discussion of Abortion, #(It doesn't happen therefore just a discussion), #Character Death

Summary: "Dad, you can't go!" Louis yells to his father as he watches him pull out his sword.

"Louis, you know that I have to. It's the pack leaders orders," Dan says calmly. "I need you to promise me that you'll take care of the family if I die."

"So what? You'll just give up?"

"Of course not. I am just willing to die for my family's safety."

"So am I."

The Zoely pack is attacked by rogue alphas and the pack leader orders all alphas over the age of eighteen to protect their pack. Dan Deakin is one of the strongest alphas in the pack, but there is one problem. He has a wife and six kids to feed and look after. Louis is the oldest child and the one who wants to protect their family.

Or a Mulan AU where Louis is an omega who takes his father's place in the war.

I Chose You by alex4968 (WORDS: 13,495)

Additional Tags: N/A

Summary: When he wakes up, the room is much brighter than when he’d fallen asleep. He has to blink the sleep from his eyes and eventually he just tosses an arm over his face to try and ignore the brightness, but then he realizes that the bed has a decent sized dent in it that forms perfectly to his body and he’s comfortable. It’s – weird. He can’t remember leaving the blinds open, and it wouldn’t have made much sense for Zayn to have opened them, either, but he doesn’t think about it. Maybe he just hadn’t realized that he’d had such a nice bed when he’d fallen asleep.

After a moment, he groans and takes his arm away from his eyes and – wait. This is – this is not his hotel room. This is a bedroom.

[Or: Louis wakes up in another life.]

Red by frosteddream (WORDS: 26,099)

Additional Tags: #Fluff, #Smut, #wolfman Harry, #Minor Character Death

Summary: Shockwaves were sent through the village after the McPherson family was savagely killed. There were people who feared the beast that did it, and then there was Louis, or, as most people liked to call him, Red. (Little Red Riding Hood AU.)

Of Course, Mr. Styles by countingcr0ws  (WORDS: 12,714)

Additional Tags: #Spies & Secret Agents, #SHIELD Agent Harry Styles. #Kid Fic, #Babysitter Louis, #Fluff, #Romance, #Daddy Harry, #University Student Louis, #Very little agenting though, #Meet-Cute, #Age Difference, #Domestic Fluff, #Humor, #Baking

Summary: Harry's new babysitter is unlike the four before him.

Louis Tomlinson with the blue eyes takes Harry's shirts without asking, buys enough boxes of cereal to feed a battalion, calls him a beetle in arguments, forces Harry to watch Grease the Musical with him, and wants Oliver to drink more milk just to see him be the tallest in class

Harry feels guilty about asking for more. He doesn't know how to tell Louis to play blanket fort with him and Olly instead of staying out.

I really fucking hate you by seducedbycurls (WORDS: 83,347)

Additional Tags: #Gangs, #ziall, #Drug Use, #mafia, #Alternate Universe, #Comedy, #Violence, #Dom!Harry, #Sub!Louis, #Child, #Parents Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, #Smut, #Alcohol Abuse, #Humor, #Abusive Relationships, #Drug Abuse, #Mutual Abuse, #Love/Hate, #AU, #Enemies to Lovers, 3possible triggers, #detailed drug use, #Drug Addiction, #Alcohol, #Drug Withdrawal, #Domestic, #Kid Fic, #Suicide Attempt, #Rewrite

Summary: Harry really fucking hates Louis. Louis really fucking hates Harry, kinda. Two boys from two separate Mafia’s are forced to meet somewhere in the middle. Louis is burdened with a child and Harry is burdened with Louis. Liam is a sniper who cant stop looking at the curly haired beauty through his scope. Niall wants to live and Zayn is gunna help him.

My English Love Affair by isthatyoularry (WORDS: 19,198)

Additional Tags: #Famous Harry, #Normal Louis, #White Eskimo, #Smut, #Fluff, #Swearing, #tiny foot kink - I'm sorry, #Louis is the subject of a very explicit hit tune, #there's an English love affair going on

Summary: The thing about sleeping with a member of a famous indie band is that the inevitability of having a song written about you is most likely a hundred percent. The second thing is that in the end, nobody's supposed to find out it's about you.

The one where Harry writes a song about his English love affair and Louis sleeps with someone in White Eskimo and all he gets is a stupid song written about him.

This Wicked Game by cherrystreet (WORDS: 70,010)

Additional Tags: #Bachelor AU, #Alternate Universe, #Anal Sex, #Hand Jobs, #Blow Jobs, #Top Harry, #Bottom Louis, #Mentions Of Infidelity, #Fluff, #Smut

Summary: An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

Emperor's New Clothes by sunsetmog (WORDS: 92,072)

Additional Tags: #Secret Relationship, #Pets, #Alternate Universe, #Famous Harry, #Non-Famous Louis, #Outing, #Money Troubles, #Mild Peril, #boys making some poor language choices, #Tabloid Journalism, #Harassment, #Relationship Negotiation

Summary: The fact that Louis’s most precious belonging was a cat with a face like thunder and an uncanny ability to cover every single inch of Louis’s clothing with cat hair was something that Louis chose not to think about too much.

or: Harry’s a pop star and Louis isn’t, and there’s a non-disclosure agreement where there used to be a relationship.

A Match Made in Aisle Three (Everybody Cut Footloose) by kikikryslee (WORDS: 16,529)

Additional Tags: #Alternate Universe - College/University, #Fluff, #Pining, #Mutual Pining, #I seem to write that a lot, #No Angst, #Drama Student Louis, #Frat Boy Harry, #Smut, #Blow Jobs, #Cashier Louis, #supermarket, #harry and louis are the same age, #Footloose - Freeform, #Shy Louis, #Nervous Harry, #Awkward Flirting

Summary: “Don’t feel bad,” Louis said. “You picked the machine that freaks out on customers more often than not. It’s not your fault it froze on you.”

“Oh, OK,” Harry replied. “Glad it’s not just me, then.” “Yeah. Um, I'll move your stuff to one that works." "Wait, don't!" Too late. Before Harry could finish his request, Louis saw what Harry's purchase was – a giant bottle of lube. Awkward. So Louis did what he does best: made it even more awkward. “Big night tonight?” Idiot. --- Or, the one where Louis is a drama student/cashier who assists Harry in buying a bottle of lube, and is also the only guy that frat boy Harry has trouble talking to. Also featuring Sophia as stubborn matchmaker and Liam as accidental wingman.

heart born out of fire by bloody_blade0 (WORDS: 31,212)

Additional Tags: #Alpha Harry, #Omega Louis, #Dark, #CEO Harry, #soft louis, #Death, #light drugs, #Louis is in a dark place, #Top Harry, #Bottom Louis, #Knotting, #Sex, #Artist Zayn, #Artist Louis, #Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, #Past Rape/Non-con, #just mentioned, #Depressed Louis, #Protective Harry, #Protective Zayn, #Possessive Harry, #Sad Louis, #Insomnia, #Hurt/Comfort, #Fluffy, #Smutty, #Panic Attacks, #Anxiety, #Low Self Esteem, #Fingering, #Dom/sub Undertones

Summary: au where louis is a sad, sad omega in hiding who hides from everyone and trusts no one. until he does.

[chronically-illustrated]

Ice Cubes

A Coma Fic

Heeey so I used to write a lot, but I haven’t for years because of the burnout during college. I recently decided I might try out some fanfiction to get back into writing and I’ve been really inspired by writers in this community. So I just started into this coma fic thing focused on Chase, and it got really real for me because depression and alcoholism are things I’ve dealt with and seen family members deal with. I’m not completely sure about sharing it, but the people I’ve mentioned it to seem excited to read it, so I’m just going to be brave and do it. Also I tried my best to represent Schneep’s accent but I dunno how well I did. XD

CW for depression and alcohol abuse. It’s sad but has a more hopeful ending because that’s what Chase deserves - spoiling that now so nobody has to worry about getting stabbed in the heart too much.

1.

The hardest part was watching Signe pretend everything was fine.

That still form in the bed, the curtained windows, the mind-numbing rhythm of beeps from the heart monitor - that was bad enough. It was bad enough to see that face that was always so animated, so full of expression and laughter, completely still, lit only by the glow of the machines that confirmed he was still alive. It was bad enough to watch the doctor lift his eyelids and shine a light into each eye, watching the pupils constrict to make sure he wasn’t braindead. It was bad enough seeing one of his best friends in the world lie there in a coma, knowing there was nothing he could do.

It was somehow worse to watch Signe come in and sit on the bed and talk to him, tell him about her day, say his name as many times as she could in the hope her voice would reach him.

But the hardest part was listening to her record videos and act so cheerful, as if it nothing was going on. They’d agreed it would be best for Chase to fill in for recording because he had the most experience with making videos; they’d agreed it would be best not to alarm everyone with Jack’s sudden disappearance; they’d agreed keeping up the appearance of normality was the best way to buy them all time to figure out how to help their friend. He knew he could put on the mask and act the part, feigning cheerfulness no matter what he actually felt. He did that every day anyway. What he hadn’t considered was having to watch someone else do the same thing. She wasn’t recording as much, so she didn’t have to do as much acting, but when she did, he found himself listening from another room, detecting the small cracks in the mask that she would probably edit out. He couldn’t even bring himself to say how painfully well he understood. He’d been pretending so long that he’d developed an instinct not to talk about it, not to break character.

Sometimes his thoughts strayed to the certain knowledge nobody would be there sitting at his bedside if he were to simply not wake up one day. He felt guilty for thinking that way, for making it about himself. This was no time for self-pity. That didn’t change the tendencies of his thoughts, of course - they found a way in regardless.

He wasn’t sure what day it was. It all blended together. Every morning, he’d flounder up from a restless sleep, snooze his alarm too many times, drag himself off the couch, and wander blearily into the kitchen where coffee was waiting in the pot. He’d make a mental note to thank Signe for making it and forget to actually thank her. Sometimes he showered, sometimes he stared at the shower and then muttered, “Fuck it,” and put on a hat before heading to the recording room. He honestly tried to enjoy the games, but imitating Jack’s enthusiasm day after day was harder than he’d expected. He hardly knew what he was saying sometimes, and when he realized that, he’d wonder if it even mattered. People would notice sooner or later that he was an impostor.

He kept up with the videos and the thumbnails, but people started to notice his style on the thumbnails wasn’t quite the same as Jack’s. He had no idea how many days he’d sat in that chair that didn’t belong to him and pretended to be someone else, but he was starting to feel like he couldn’t keep up much longer.

The clink of ice cubes hitting the bottom of the glass was the only comforting part of the routine. He always used three, and dropped them in one after another, enjoying the sound and the familiarity of it. He was like one of Pavlov’s dogs, feeling a bit better hearing those three clinks that meant an hour or two of letting everything else fall away. He knew how bad that was, how spending all day waiting for when he could slip down into the numbness of alcohol was a problem, but it was more frightening to think of lying on the couch with his sober thoughts for hours and hours, alone in the darkness inside and out. Everyone else was asleep when he sat down to drink before bed, and there was comfort in knowing nobody else would see what a mess he really was.

He finally hit a moment where he couldn’t keep the mask together anymore when Tie kept glitching and he couldn’t advance in the game. The game was already uncomfortably relatable, but he had to pretend it wasn’t - he had to pretend he was Jack, the guy who was always happy and always put a positive spin on everything. And then the game BROKE and made him repeat the same moment over and over and wouldn’t let him go anywhere, and...he was so tired. He didn’t even do an outro or say anything about not being able to get further in the game. He just started talking, not even sure what he was saying, forgetting that an audience of millions was going to see the mask slip. He didn’t care anymore, and that made it worse, because his friend needed him, and he was failing. He didn’t have the energy to care. He sent the video to Robin without bothering to come up with some kind of ending to replace his rambling.

It wasn’t until he was reading the comments on YouTube that he realized someone had also apparently recorded him drinking at some point, and sent that to Robin as well, and the editor had actually included it in the video for whatever reason. He felt a flash of anger but didn’t have the energy to sustain it. And there was a strange, dull kind of relief in having the secret spilled by someone else, knowing it was out of his hands and he didn’t have to try so hard to pretend anymore.

He drank even more that night than usual.

2.

Henrik sighed as he lowered Jack’s eyelids again and clicked the light off.

“Is he okay?” Chase asked softly, suddenly painfully aware of how pale and small and still his friend seemed in the bed.

“He iz ze same,” the doctor responded wearily. “Stable.”

Chase gritted his teeth to fight the tears that threatened to fill his eyes. “Can’t you do anything?”

“I have done vat I can.” Henrik’s face was in shadow, his back to the machines, but Chase could see the deep lines of his furrowed brow as he gazed down at their friend. Henrik was always transparent with his emotions this way - he looked worried when he felt worried, looked sad when he felt sad, looked angry when he felt angry.

Chase lowered his eyes and fought down a strange pang of jealousy and the guilt that followed it. “Well, I gotta go get some videos done,” he said a bit too loudly, and turned to leave the room, almost colliding with Signe as she was coming in. He flinched out of the way and hurried into the hall before she could say anything, his throat tight with the emotions trying to force their way out.

He made it through the recordings without letting the facade slip again, which was as close to a small victory as he could get these days. He wandered into the kitchen, stood in front of the open fridge staring at the contents for a while, then closed the fridge and got a bottle of whiskey down from the cupboard. The sound of the ice cubes hitting the bottom of the glass seemed so loud at this time of night - or morning. He wasn’t sure what time it was anymore.

He’d been sitting at the table for a while when Henrik came in. Half hoping the doctor wouldn’t notice he was there, Chase held still in the shadows of the corner as Henrik removed his cap and rubbed his eyes, then went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. Without looking at Chase, the doctor sat down across from him at the table and opened the bottle, letting the cap drop onto the table between them.

“A bit of poison neva hurt anybody, eh?” the doctor asked quietly as he raised the bottle to his lips, finally making eye contact with Chase as he did.

Chase laughed, the alcohol making it difficult to control his reactions. His vision swam a little as he looked down at the empty glass next to his hand, the ice cubes nearly melted at the bottom.

Henrik watched him quietly for a moment before setting the bottle down, making lines in the condensation with his fingertips. “I vant you to promise me somesing.”

Chase tilted his head and tried to focus. “What’s up, doc?” He laughed again as his brain sluggishly connected the reference.

Henrik’s gaze was steady, his hands still on the bottle in front of him. “It iz maybe the wrong time, but… I vant you to promise you vill stop trying to leave zis way.”

“What?” Chase shook his head blearily, suddenly wishing he were less drunk. He could feel that this was important, but it was so difficult to pay attention.

“Am I wrong in sinking zis” - he gestured toward the whiskey bottle and the ice cubes melting in the glass - “is your vay of trying to die?”

“What? No,” Chase shook his head emphatically, got dizzy, and held a hand against his forehead to steady himself, wishing again that he were more lucid for this conversation. “No, it just - it helps to calm down, ya know? Relax and sleep.”

“Are you avare that going to sleep drunk means bad sleep?”

“I mean, no, but… I can’t sleep otherwise, so at least it’s something.”

The doctor took another sip of his beer. When he put it down, be began to scratch at the edge of the label, peeling off small strips as he spoke. “My friend iz in a coma and I can’t talk to him. My oza friend is drinking himself to death and vill not talk to me about what iz happening, he just pretend to smile like everysing iz okay. Jackieboy Man iz supposed to protect us but ve cannot reach him. Ze ozas are trying to speak to Jack, but he doesn’t hear zem.”

Chase sat frozen, the alcohol making it impossible to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes and slid down over his cheeks, dripping into the glass on top of the last remnants of the ice cubes. “I -”

Henrik raised a hand to stop him. “I know you are trying ze best you can,” he continued gently. “Ve all are. But vat I am saying is ve need you here. I need you here.”

Chase choked out a sob, unsure why it was hearing that, specifically, that hurt so much, like ripping open a wound he’d been trying to hide.

Henrik reached across the table and put a hand on his shoulder. “I say again, I need YOU here, my friend. Not zis pretend Chase who sayz nothing about needing help.”

Chase reached up and gripped the doctor’s arm, too overwhelmed to thank him any other way. Henrik stayed with him until he’d cried himself into exhaustion, then led him to the couch. Chase flopped down and was asleep before the doctor had even finished spreading a blanket over him.

3.

He woke up with the worst headache he’d ever had. It had been a while since he’d had a hangover - or maybe he’d just learned to live in a state of constant hangover and didn’t know what it felt like not to be sick anymore. Either way, it had been a long time since he’d woken up feeling so sick. When he reached up to turn off the alarm blaring from his phone, he noticed a glass of water and a couple aspirin tablets next to it, and swallowed them gratefully. He wandered into the kitchen for coffee, shielding his eyes from the lights overhead.

It should have been an awful day, but it was somehow easier to record the videos despite the hangover. He managed to enjoy poking fun at the games. He knew he wasn’t perfectly imitating Jack’s boundless positivity and viewers would probably pick up on the fact that something was a bit off, but the secret was out anyway - they knew it was him in front of the camera now, and that made it a little easier to just be himself instead of trying to be Jack. He did the intro and everything just because it felt right to keep some kind of consistency, but he didn’t try so hard to fake joy, and somehow that made it easier to actually feel a little bit of joy while recording.

He visited Jack after recording and talked to him for a bit longer than usual. They knew each other so well that he could easily imagine what the Irishman’s responses would be to just about everything he said, and instead of adding to the pain, it brought him a little comfort for once. He talked about the dumb games he’d played that day and told jokes he knew Jack would like, hoping his friend was laughing, wherever his consciousness was.

“You’re really something else, dude,” Chase murmured, holding his friend’s limp hand. “You should’ve seen Schneep last night. I...don’t remember everything exactly, but - like, we’re so different, he’s so different from me, but he knew exactly what to say. And it just made me think how all these people who are so different are all here together because of you, because you bring out the best in all of us and make us all want to help each other. That’s what you do for everyone in the community too. I didn’t even realize it was like this til I had to fill in, but you really have something here, bro. I know you don’t like people praising you a ton and giving you all the credit, but whatever, you can’t stop me anyway.” He smiled sadly. “I really hope you wake up soon, dude. You should see all this.” Tears welled in his eyes and he felt the headache start to pound in his temples, and for some reason it made him laugh. “It’s bullshit my body and brain never feel good at the same time. But you’d say to focus on the good, right?”

There was a soft knock on the door behind him and Signe poked her head in. She met Chase’s eyes and seemed like she was going to retreat.

“Hey, Wiish!” he called out, smiling warmly. “Thank you for making coffee today. Actually, thank you for always making coffee. I used to be more of a tea guy, but I dunno if I could keep up all this without that stuff every day - what does he call it? Dirty bean water?”

She laughed, her expression a mix of fondness and pain. “Yes, that’s what he calls it. And you’re welcome.”

“Woosher’s here to talk to ya, dude. I’ll see you later,” Chase told his friend, squeezing his hand before letting go. He patted Signe on the shoulder as they walked past each other. It was a little awkward, but he hoped she understood the gesture.

The doctor was waiting outside the door, and looked up with a quiet smile as Chase left the room. “How are you feeling?”

Chase laughed and then put a hand to his head to stop the pounding. “Like absolute shit. Thanks for the aspirin.”

Henrik’s smile widened. “I do vat I can.”

Chase grinned. He wanted to hug the doctor but it didn’t feel quite -

He almost yelped in surprise when Henrik grabbed him into a hug before he could even decide what to do.

“I am proud of you, little brozer.”

Chase hid his face in the doctor’s lab coat and cried. There was nothing else he could do. It felt like he’d had this plug in his heart and it had been pulled and everything he’d been trying not to feel came rushing out. The relief was overwhelming, painful but good. He apologized for being such a crybaby when he caught his breath enough to talk.

“Tears have an important part in health,” the doctor replied, holding him at arm’s length with hands on his shoulders. “Do not apologize for being honest about how you are feeling, my friend.”

“Thanks, dude. Sorry for the snot on your coat.”

Henrik made a face and looked down. “Oh. Vell. It needed to be vashed anyvay.”

Chase laughed. “I’ll let you get to it. Thanks, doc.”

The kitchen seemed smaller than usual, like there was less empty space somehow. He couldn’t really stomach anything because of the hangover, which included alcohol, but he was glad for the excuse not to drink. It was a strange thought, needing an excuse not to drink. Things had really gotten out of hand. For today, at least, he’d get out of the cycle of daily drinking. Tomorrow, he’d think about what to do going forward.

He dropped three ice cubes into a glass and poured water over them. It tasted amazing.

[qandnoablog]

Discovered (Marvel Imagine)

Title: [In Progress]

Pairing: [In Progress, Open to ideas]

Warnings: Based on the movie - The Avengers (2012)

Part: 1

Key: Y/N - Your Name Y/L/N -Your Last Name

Word Count: 4,391

Summary: Mutant!Reader has always been born with an ability and has kept it hidden all her life. She goes to New York to visit a college, intending to be there for at most a week, when New York is attacked by Loki and his Chitauri army. Being ignorant to the going ons of New York and their famous heroes, she doesn’t realize who the people fighting against these aliens are, since all her life she thought she was the only one that was different from normal humans.

Note From Author: This is my first ever fan fiction! I recently got really into fan fics and never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever be writing one! I’m absolutely in love with loki x reader fanfics, but I don’t know if that’s the path I intend with this story. If a lot of people like this fanfic, I’ll be sure to post more :) I am open to ideas and will tag people who want to be posted on my next updates. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it, since I am busy with college, but I really enjoyed writing this so feel free to contact me!

If anyone thinks I should revise certain things, please feel free to tell me. Also, I’m pretty new to all of this so please go easy on me~!

P.S. This is my second time posting this, but since I wanted to make a separate account specifically for fan fiction, I reposted this and will delete the other one shortly.

Part 1 - Discovered

[Y/N] was pretty new to the Avengers, both the team and the people.

Before the New York incident with Loki and his Chitauri army, [Y/N] had no idea who Tony Stark, Thor, Captain America, Black Widow, or Hawkeye were. She didn’t even know who S.H.I.E.L.D. was! [Y/N] never really kept up with the news and often got shocked responses whenever she asked who a certain famous celebrity was.

Of course, some names did sound familiar to her, since she did hear them from time to time, but they never really stuck until one day a gaping hole had ripped open in the sky. Now that was hard to miss, even for [Y/N].

The first thing [Y/N] did when she saw the strange and terrifying creatures emerge from what could only be a portal was call her family. Rather than flee for her life like everyone else around her did, she made sure that the people she loved were safe. Given that they didn’t live in New York, since [Y/N] was just touring around a potential college campus that week, they were perfectly fine back in California.

“What’s going on?” [Y/N]’s sister laughed on the other line, putting the phone on speaker so the rest of the family could hear.

“Oh, nothing much,” [Y/N] answered, when a deafening scream pierced her ear. People began to scatter, left and right, nearly knocking her over as they tried to get away from the oncoming army. Immediately, her family worried about the situation.

“What was that?!” [Y/N]’s mother demanded, bringing the phone closer to her ear.

“Sorry,” [Y/N] replied, her brain working overtime to try to think up a believable lie, “I just passed by a club. It seems to be getting wild in there!”

With that, her family’s worries were appeased and she quickly said goodbye before hanging up the phone. [Y/N] didn’t like her family worrying about her, especially when she could take care of herself just fine. They would eventually learn about it later, hopefully through [Y/N]’s own mouth, but for now they didn’t have to needlessly worry.

The alien army, the only thing those creatures could possibly be, were gradually making its way towards where [Y/N] stood. Glancing around for a safe place to hide, she noticed about four children crying as they huddled around something. Rushing over to see what was going on, avoiding the panicked people that were in a frenzy for survival, [Y/N] finally saw why they refused to move from where they gathered.

A woman, who was knocked unconscious, lay motionless on the ground. There was no indication that the aliens had already made it here, so [Y/N] could only surmise that she had fallen and hit her head from the oncoming traffic of people. It wasn’t uncommon in times of chaos.

“Stop crying and help her get on my shoulders!” [Y/N] demanded to the small children.

The oldest one immediately knew what to do, snapping out from shock, and struggled to get his mother onto [Y/N]’s back. The others followed suit of their older brother and soon the woman’s full weight was on [Y/N].

With a heave, [Y/N] stood up and quickly scanned where they should be heading. A crash resounded near them and [Y/N] knew she was out of time.

“Follow me!” She instructed as she bolted away from the explosion. There wasn’t much time to think so the first priority was to get them all to safety.

The children rushed to her side, all of them scared for their own lives and the life of their mother. The younger two, one boy and one girl, were struggling to keep up but with the heavy weight on [Y/N]’s shoulders, her speed matched those of the small children. In the distance, she could hear the authorities calling through their portable speakers, instructing people on where to go for shelter. Police cars were littering the roads as the other officers pointed their guns to the oncoming army or robotic men. With an injured and unconscious woman, [Y/N] knew that they should head to wherever the police were gathering.

As the small group advanced towards the cluster of police, something flew above them at an astonishing speed. The screams of the people drowned out the speaker’s sound and [Y/N] looked up to find two aliens standing on some sort of hovering vehicle, eyeing all of the people in a way that sent chills up [Y/N]’s spine. It pointed its glowing arm at the panicking people, gun that was fused to it humming with energy.

Help… We need help! [Y/N] thought to herself as she began to sweat.

Protecting herself was not a problem. With her abilities, she could easily get out of this alive. But she had an injured woman on her. There were children that were clinging to her, shaking at the horrible creatures that were eyeing them like they were nothing but ants in their path.

[Y/N] set the unconscious woman down, as gently as she could, before turning her back to the aliens and hugging the children.

“Get to safety. There’s a police officer who should be able to help you carry your mother,” she whispered, knowing that the clock was ticking, “I’ll deal with the monster.”

[Y/N] gave her most reassuring smile before turning back towards the alien who was joined by more of its comrades. They were already starting to terrorize the people and [Y/N] checked behind her once more before she jumped into the fray.

Warm energy surged through her as she tapped into her hidden powers. A small voice within spoke of its worries about revealing the secret she had kept hidden for so long, but the situation ahead silenced it.

She lunged, reaching out her hands as the energy exploded from her palms and hit one of the aliens, knocking them off of their strange alien vehicle. The odd technology, unprepared for the sudden attack, quickly lost control and was about to crash onto the people below. They hollered and screamed, some praying their last wishes while some fainting at the imminent doom. With a flick of her wrist, the energy within [Y/N] held onto the object and with a heave it hurtled towards the other aliens.

The two vehicles collided, cracking with the force that [Y/N] had put into it. With no time to think and just going on instinct alone, she rushed to where the aliens had fallen, avoiding the stream of people who hurried to get away from the danger they faced. It was too chaotic for anyone to completely comprehend what had just happened and the only thought on their minds were to get them and their loved ones to safety.

Before the two surviving aliens could draw their weapons, which glowed a faint blue color, [Y/N] gathered her power once more. She struggled, her hands slowly being forced apart as if she were tearing a large, invisible book in half. With all her might, [Y/N] let out a grunt as her hands flew outward. The alien before her, felt its body mimic [Y/N]’s actions and struggled against the force before being ripped in two. The other lunged after her, no fear or contempt in its eyes.

The machine-like creature missed as she dodged and moved her arm as if she were throwing something. One of the pieces of the fallen alien hurtled after the attacking machine and the two knocked into one another with enough power to permanently bring the standing one down.

[Y/N] dusted herself off as she finally found time to gather her surroundings. First, she looked to the four children and the collapsed mother, relieved to see an officer helping the woman and the kids get to a safe place. Then, she noticed an unfamiliar man, who seemed to be drawing the other oncoming aliens’ attention. He fought vigorously as  he fended off the continuous onslaught.

He wore mostly blue and [Y/N] could see a letter “A” plastered onto the forehead of his masking helmet, obscuring his identity. Though she would have found him suspicious if this was any other day, him protecting the people was all [Y/N] needed to know that he was one of the good guys.

Feeling eyes on him, he turned to where [Y/N] stood, his eyes widening when he saw several aliens damaged and destroyed around her. Noticing his attention, [Y/N] quickly acted frightened and confused as tears welled up in her eyes. [Y/N]’s identity was vital to her and her strange abilities would definitely wind her up in some scientist’s lab if given the chance. Not even her family knew her secret and she intended to keep it that way.

“Are you alright?” The man called, fighting off the continuous stream of aliens while talking to [Y/N].

It amazed her that he didn’t seem to be breaking much of a sweat, even though he was fending off several aliens at once, but the sound of a gun charging to fire distracted her as she noticed an alien aim at the exposed back of the blue man while he kept an eye on her.

His eyes followed her’s but he reacted too late as the ray shot out at him. [Y/N] quickly flicked her wrist again and the ray was knocked off its trajectory and hit another alien that lunged for the stranger. The energy within her calmed, the immediate danger avoided, as he took this opportunity to throw the red, white, and blue circular shield at the firing alien, knocking it down with one swift blow. Like a boomerang, it returned to the blue man and he turned to [Y/N] with questioning eyes.

She looked back at him, pretending to be baffled at all that was happening, when another explosion caught both their attentions. The majority of the crowd in the area had fled to the safety of the subways and were off the streets, some staggering through the rubble to follow suit. His job here seemed to be done and was about to head off for another area of danger when a large creature seemed to almost swim in the air above the two.

A red figure flew through the air, bombarding the large, metallic creature with what seemed to be missiles. Rubble fell from the sky, falling onto [Y/N] as she tried to get away from the potential dangers that loomed overhead.

Distracted, [Y/N] turned back to the blue figure but he was gone. As she was about to breathe out a sigh of relief, large arms wrapped around her and picked her up. Startled, [Y/N] was about to fight back when she realized that it was the blue man that had begun to carry her like a princess while running to the direction of the nearest subway entrance.

“P-put me down!” She exclaimed, knowing full well that if she entered the authorities would prevent her from leaving. [Y/N] knew that her powers would be useful in this battle and though it was extremely dangerous, she still wanted to fight.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to remain calm,” the man answered. It surprised her how easily he seemed to move with the full weight of her in his arms. In fact, it seemed as though he wasn’t even tired or out of breath!

“I am calm!” [Y/N] exclaimed, “I can get there on my own!”

The subway was a few feet away, a bit further from where the center of the battle occurred, and the continuous explosions and racket seemed to draw his attention away from her and back to where his friends were most likely fighting.

“Hey! I can walk you know.” [Y/N] huffed as she struggled in his arms. “Besides, you look like you have more important things to deal with!”

He eyed her with visible worry and she gave him the same smile she had given the frightened children.

“I’ll be fine. Go.”

And with that, he nodded and put her down. Without wasting another second he made his way back to where his team was, though [Y/N] had no idea how a human man could be so agile. His nimble feet carried him further and further away towards the center of all the chaos.

[Y/N]’s body shimmered as the air around her began to bend to her will. Wrapped in an invisible cloak of air that hid her from sight, [Y/N] bound after the American man. She smiled at her own nickname for the stranger, thinking his color scheme matched the American flag quite nicely.

She was much slower compared to him, but along the way she tore through as many unsuspecting aliens as she could. This made her feel a bit more useful as she continued towards the heated battle.

In no time she reached the American Man and saw him with two other people, both of which were unmasked. The two were dressed in dark clothing, one woman and one male. The red-headed female fought off her attackers with such grace and fierce force as she masterfully made use of the spear she must have stolen from one of the fallen aliens. The man, on the other hand, trusted the two with his life as he withdrew his attention from the field and aimed his arrows at the sky. The three performed beautifully together and [Y/N] was mesmerized by their teamwork, as if this fight were all choreographed.

Thunder rumbled above her and lightning struck down at the aliens surrounding the three who fought valiantly. The sudden burst snapped her out of her trance and she looked up to find a red caped man descending from the sky.

This new comer looked at the others who weren’t surprised by his sudden arrival, signalling that they were on the same team. He had golden hair that fell to his shoulders and a hammer that fit nicely in his muscular hands. A well built, beautiful man who could tug at the hearts of many women, but she quickly dismissed the thought.

[Y/N] waited patiently as they were updated by the blond man and gathered to catch their breath. They looked up at the red machine as it flew above them, indicating that whatever that thing was, it was also part of their team.

Eavesdropping more on their conversation, though unable to make out all the words, it seemed that the blue man was the leader and took charge of his team. As they went through their battle plan, [Y/N] heard a motor in the distance and turned as she saw yet another person joining them, his appearance the most normal of them all.

Their talk was cut short as the red machine began to make its way to the group, behind it that very large creature close on its heels. It demolished a building as if it was nothing, moving like a fish and swimming faster towards its target. As the monster drew closer, the normal man turned his back to the team and faced it head on. His fair skin rapidly turned green and his size increased dramatically, ripping through the large shirt he had on. The green creature growled as it slammed its fist into the oncoming monster, crushing its metallic skull while being forced back by the size of the alien.

It progressively broke apart from the shock of the punch of the green man and was dangerously tilting towards the rest of the group. [Y/N] tensed slightly, getting ready to use her powers yet again, when the red machine finally got close to the others and aimed its hand out towards the monster.

“Hold on.” It instructed, sounding both like a man and a computer, as something shot out from its extended arm and lodged onto the massive creature.

The tail that was getting too close exploded and the American Man shielded the woman, who was closest to him, while the man with the bow used an overturned taxi as his shield. The few civilians below scattered as the pieces of the monster fell off the cement bridge and onto the road below.

[Y/N] leapt into action as she thrust her energy towards the pieces of the monster that rained down on the people. Her invisibility disappeared as she focused on the safety of the people below, making sure that no one was crushed by the dead alien.

The others were distracted as the aliens that were clinging to the walls of the buildings screeched out, eliciting a roar from the green creature. Then, all of them looked up as more of those massive monsters swam down from the portal, inching closer and closer to Earth.

“Shit.” [Y/N] cursed and then realized that her invisibility was no longer around her.

Though she had whispered it under her breath, everyone turned towards where [Y/N] was. Immediately, before they could identify the source, [Y/N] ducked down and hid behind an abandoned car that lay on its side, most likely to never run again. She held her breath as she gathered her power to once again hide any traces of her presence, the air wrapping around her like a cool blanket.

Before long, the team returned to defending the city. Their main goal was to take out the portal and contain the damage done by this foreign alien army. It was a good plan, though [Y/N] couldn’t hear all of it, but she knew that the man with the bow would keep a watchful eye on the city overhead. This meant that she would need to be more careful on how she helped others if she wanted to keep her identity a secret.

~

The battle was finally over.

It had been a few days since the affair and [Y/N] had just hung up on her parents after they had given her an earful for lying to them. They told her that she was to either immediately return home, abandoning the intended plan of exploring the college, or they would be forced to go to her. Knowing the dangers that had occurred here in this city, [Y/N] knew she would have to pack up her things and leave New York for good.

As she finished up packing in her little hotel room, there was a strong, firm knock at the door.

“I’ll be out in a minute!” [Y/N] called out absently, thinking it was one of the workers of the hotel. She knew no one in this city, so it was unlikely that anyone other than a worker would knock. Still, she did find it odd that they were checking up on her when her appointed time to leave was still hours away.

Satisfied with all her belongings crammed into her suitcase, she zipped it up, slung her carry-on bag over her shoulders, and headed for the door. Thinking about home made her happy, her good mood increasing at the idea of going back home.

The knob turned as she opened the door and to her surprise, the usual cleaning lady was not the one in front of her. Instead, a familiar red-haired woman and an unfamiliar blond man greeted her at the door.

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N]?” the man asked, though from the look on his face [Y/N] sensed that he already knew who she was.

“I’m sorry, but I’m just a college student,” or at least she would be by the upcoming school year, “I’m not looking to buy anything.”

[Y/N] smiled politely at them, recalling exactly where she had seen that woman from and suspecting the reason as to why they had tracked her down. Her good mood plummeted but her years of experience of lying had allowed her to keep a poker face.

It was time for [Y/N] to leave. Now. As she made to close the door, the woman’s hand shot out and slammed her palm against the wood to prevent it from shutting.

“We’re not here to sell you anything, Miss [Y/L/N],” the blond man informed, still acting polite. In fact, he didn’t seem to be acting at all. He seemed to genuinely be a polite man. “We’re just here to ask you a few questions.”

She’d heard those lines in movies many times before. Those lines were usually given before the receiver's life dramatically changed. Whether it was a good or bad change didn’t matter to [Y/N]. She enjoyed her trouble-free life and she intended for it to stay that way.

Her energy built up within her as her face remained neutral to the two unannounced guests. Her hand settled on the suitcase beside her, next to the door ready for departure. The air curled and covered the luggage and hid it from sight.

Masking her intention, already used to lying about her abilities for her entire life, [Y/N] looked confused as to what they could possibly want with a normal girl like herself.

The well-built man seemed to hesitate, feeling unsure about whether the information about [Y/N] was accurate, but the woman who had prevented [Y/N] from closing the door showed no indication over whether she believed [Y/N] or not.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” She asked, making a point to look slightly worried and definitely scared. It wasn’t hard to do since thoughts of being chained and experimented on flickered through her mind.

“No, no. Nothing like that, Ma’am,” the man soothed, trying to ease her worries.

His words triggered [Y/N]’s memories of the American Man who had tried to carry her to the subway in order to get her to safety. Recognition flashed in her eyes and she knew the red woman had caught on. Using this to the best of her abilities, [Y/N] gasped out loud.

“Oh my goodness!” She exclaimed, her eyes widening at the shock, “You’re that kind man in blue!”

The man looked confused for a moment before it finally clicked.

“Ah, you’re-” Before he could finish, [Y/N] steeled her resolve and decided to immerse herself in her role. She leapt into his arms, trying very hard to ignore the girl beside him reaching for her gun at the sudden movement.

“Thank you so much for saving me!” [Y/N] squealed and hugged the big man tightly. He stiffened at the suddenness of her actions, but eased up as he patted her on the head.

“I’m glad to see that you’re well,” he replied with a soft smile.

“You’re like some kind of hero, aren’t you?” She questioned, acting like a fan girl head-over-heels for her celebrity crush. It wasn’t difficult given that he was a very handsome man.

Now it was their turn to look surprised. They did not expect anyone to have not heard of Captain America before, not after the attack anyways. He was already popular and well-known as the super soldier who had fought Hydra, froze in a block of ice, and then revive many years after the war.

“Oh, sorry…” [Y/N] murmured as she realized why they were surprised. It was the same reaction her friends had given her when she didn’t know who their favorite actor/actress/singer/etc. was. “I-I didn’t know you were famous… You see, I’m not really up to date on all that stuff.”

[Y/N]’s genuine honesty and her shyness had cracked through the red-head’s poker face and internally [Y/N] rejoiced on achieving at least that much. The woman was dangerous. If [Y/N] didn’t play her cards right, her lies would easily be seen through.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I haven’t introduced myself yet,” the man apologized sheepishly, “My name is Steve Rogers, or Captain America.”

Eh? [Y/N] thought, You’re revealing your secret identity to a stranger like me? Is he lying? Well, it could very well be a fake name.

“Natasha,” the woman stated. That was all she gave [Y/N].

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N],” she answered, “Though you both already seem to know my name.”

[Y/N] paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts, before looking back to them.

“Are you here to ask me about the incident?” She questioned, acting confused, “Because a lot of other people probably saw a lot more than I did.”

The two looked at one another, Steve genuinely doubting her involvement in the fight while the woman was as stone faced as ever.

“No, we’re here to talk about something else. May we come in?” Steve asked politely.

This is it! [Y/N] thought to herself as she had anticipated this question popping up. It was so overdone in movies, a character being invited in only to dump some life-changing news/information on that poor, unsuspecting person. Not for me!

“O-of course!”

[Y/N] opened the door all the way, thankful that she had tidied things up for her departure.

The two walked in, Steve heading in causally while Natasha observing every nook and cranny of the room. They heard the sound of the door click shut and turned to [Y/N], expecting her to follow them in, but she wasn’t there.

The two leapt into action, charging at the door and hurtling themselves into the empty hallway. They were baffled as to where [Y/N] could have gone, given she was a young and most likely inexperienced girl, but was nowhere to be seen.

Natasha was the first to act, signalling Steve to go down one hallway while she searched the other. He nodded and bounded down one way while she ran off in the other direction. Their footsteps, though fast and hurried, were soft and near silent. A few more seconds passed by. When silence was all that greeted her the air shifted from within the room.

[Y/N] revealed herself safe in her hotel room, directly next to the door, clutching her suitcase and bag. It was time to go.

[PART 2]

[nethwan]

Changes

Chapter 3: Feelings

Summay:  Mei has always felt as if she lived in a cage, so she takes a decision that will change her life and the way she sees the world.

Note:  I really hope you enjoy this story, if you see a mistake, let me know it. This fic could have a better name, but at the moment I was listening certain song and I thought that was perfect. 

Also here: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15136724/chapters/35440767

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12988099/3/Changes

Lars told her his story: the owner of the flower shop was his grandfather Vincent; he used to help him because he liked flowers and he was interested on gardening. Unfortunately, his grandfather died a few months ago; so Lars had to be on charge, but he had never been good with people, and he was still sad about his loss.

“If he saw me now, he would be very disappointed” Lars said.

“Don’t say that, he would be proud of you, I’m sure. Just don’t give up”

Somehow, Lars felt he could trust her and since that moment, things got better between them. He was more patient and taught her how to make bouquets. She learnt quickly, those lessons were very enjoyable. It wasn’t as hard as she thought at the beginning, she just needed practice.

Certain day, while Mei swept, she could hear Lars reciting a few verses she recognized, and she couldn’t help recite the second part of the poem.

“Do you know it?” he asked.

“Yes, I do! I studied literature at college” she said.

He looked at her impressed. Maybe that’s why she looked at him inquisitive when he was reading or writing. Now that he thought about it that was the first thing she said about herself. However, it wasn’t as if he was interested on knowing about her.

She was nosy, in his opinion, and talkative, she couldn’t be quiet for a second, and she made questions for everything. And she wore too much pink. But also the ambiance of the store felt more cheerful, and he kind of enjoyed her presence, when he realized it, he rolled his eyes and grumbled. Mei looked at him for a while and smiled. She was already used to hearing him mumble; probably he was reading that awful part of the book.

When he finished a book, he asked her what she had thought about it. Mei was surprised for his question. And since then, both started talking more and more, first about the books they liked, then about their hobbies, and later about mindless topics. They became into a sort of friends and they worked together in harmony.

Definitely, Lars wasn’t as bad as he seemed to be, he was still grumpy, but maybe some things would never change. Mei thought he was smart and hardworking, also, he was awkward, but she liked him. Lars considered Mei was funny and easygoing, the way she interpreted some poems was interesting to him. And also, he let her read his writing to know her opinion.

“Here” he said, one day after work.

“Why are you giving me this?” she asked, looking at the present.

“I thought maybe this could help you” he said.

It was a book about flowers, the different types, their meaning and how to take care of them. Mei looked at it very impressed and excited because it was a fascinating book. Lars seemed a little bit embarrassed and she tried to not giggle. Mei never imagined that he could give her such a marvelous present.

“Thank you” she said, smiling.                                                        

---

Two days later, Yao visited her at work; she was surprised to see him there. He explained her that Lien told him where she was. However, he said he was busy and just stayed there for some minutes and asked her to take care. She was relieved that he didn’t tell her some awful news or criticized her job. To the contrary, he seemed happy to see her working.

She thought about her family, her parents called her quite often and her grandmother always sent her greetings. However since the first day she was there, Feliciano never called her, she thought he would be busy at work, and somehow she felt bad for not caring too much about it. She wondered what kind of marriage they would have.

Things at home were calm, sometimes Mei and Ling had tea with Lien, and other times they went out to walk and know the city. Both decided to learn to cook, and also how to use the washing machine, because once their sheets and other white garments turned pink thanks to Ling’s red cap. They never imagined that living alone would be so difficult; they realized they were living in a bubble all this time.  

---

One Friday afternoon, when Lars and Mei were checking the book he gave her, three men and a woman got into the store. They seemed happy to see him. Mei thought they were his friends.

“Hey, Lars, do you want to go with us to drink something?” the tallest one said.

“We are about to close, anyways” Lars said hesitantly.

“Hey, do you want to accompany us?” his friends asked her.

Mei just smiled, not knowing what to say.

“Oh excuse us for our manners, I’m Matthew, this pretty lady is my girlfriend Katya. This is Mathias and his boyfriend Lukas. We are Lars’ friends” a man with glasses said.

“Nice to meet you, I am Mei, I work for Lars” she said shyly.

“Great! Then are you coming with us?” Mathias asked her. “Katya will have more fun if there is another girl with us”

Katya smiled at her, maybe she was glad to see another girl in their group. Mei didn’t want to be a bother, and they were his friends not hers, so she thought about an excuse to reject their invitation. But she was anxious to know people and have friends.

“You can come with us if you want, maybe we can show you some places” Lars said suddenly while he looked down, pretending indifference, but waiting for her answer.

“Alright, I’d like to go” she said happily.

Lars gave a hint of a smile. The other seemed glad. Mei followed Lukas and Katya. Then she noticed that Lars was talking with the other men and they laughed while he blushed and crossed his arms.

Mei told her cousin that she’d hang out with some friends, Ling seemed surprised, and then she said laughing:

“Have fun with your grumpy boss”

Mei rolled her eyes and said goodbye.

That night was one of the most amusing of Mei’s life. Lars’ friends were kind and treated her as if she was part of the group. They went to some places to drink and everyone had to sing at the karaoke. When it was Lars’ turn, he didn’t want to do it; he didn’t care if he had to pay for everything. Mei told him she’d sing with him, and that convinced him.

Lars sang hesitantly, but Mei’s voice was pretty sweet so no one payed him attention. He felt relieved because he thought that was embarrassing, but at least he didn’t have to pay their drinks. He secretly enjoyed that night, because it was different and special.

Then, the two couples said goodbye, and they asked her to hang out again. Mei saw that Matthew and Mathias gave Lars a sign, also Lukas smiled and Katya giggled, and Lars blushed again. He ignored them and said goodbye. Lars accompanied her to her apartment. It was very late, and he wanted her to be safe.

“I had fun today, thank you for invite me” Mei said.

“Me too” he said quietly.

They remained silent for a moment. They looked at each other in the eyes; she liked his green eyes, so captivating in spite of his annoyed gaze. He approached, but then, she opened the door. He seemed to wake up.

“It’s late, I had to go home” he said.

“Alright, thank you again, good night” she told him.

“Good night”

When Mei got in bed, she felt confused, she perfectly knew what was about to happen, but she couldn’t permit it. She was engaged, her fiancé was waiting for her, and he hadn’t called her yet, by the way. She hugged her pillow; she still felt the butterflies in her stomach and remembered those eyes.

She was getting worried, what if she was falling in love with Lars? She dreamt of him and her together as a couple. She woke up ruffled, what kind of cheesy dream she just had. At least that was her day off, but the rest of the day, she was lost in thought, thinking about him.

Other thing that worried Mei was the obvious crush Emma’s younger brother had on Ling, and she was certain that Ling felt the same. Mei didn’t want to sound like Yao, but what if Ling fell in love with that guy and he found out their secret? She tried to not meddle; Ling was an adult who knew what she was doing.

“I have a date” Ling told her when they were having breakfast.

“Who’s your date? No, wait, I know who he is” Mei said serious.

“Don’t get mad. He asked me out and I really like him. Tell me, there is something wrong with it?” her cousin replied.

“No, I didn’t say anything” Mei said annoyed.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a date. Besides, I am single” she said, emphasizing the last part.

Mei didn’t know what to say, she just remained silent.

“I didn’t mean… well, I am sorry” Ling said.

Mei didn’t say anything. She felt really guilty. Of course her cousin could go out with whoever she wanted. When Mei was alone, she took the phone, she needed to talk with Feliciano, at least to know how he was, but he never answered.

Things at work were strange, she avoided being close to Lars. His behavior towards her was different; he seemed shy and even happier. She needed to let him know they could be just friends. But when she was about to tell him the truth, something happened: a customer, the phone, or just his smile that made her forget everything.

Mei was so concerned that she forgot her own birthday. That day, they closed early, he asked her to accompany him to his apartment because he wasn’t feeling well. She did it. It wasn’t so far away from there. When he opened the door, the lights turned on and his friends, Ling and Emma said ‘Happy birthday!’.

She looked at him, waiting for an explanation.

“Ling told Emma and she told me” he said simply.

“Thank you” she said touched.

She wasn’t expecting that, and less since the dramatic call of her mother. She received some presents and the cake was delicious. She met more people there, like Antonio, Emma’s boyfriend.  

Later, when the guests were more interested on their conversations, he asked her to follow him to the roof. There, they admired the night and the city lights, the air was cold and he gave her his jacket. They sat next to each other.  

“This is my favorite place, I come here to think and write” he told her.

“It’s a calm place, I like it. Thank you for bringing me here and for the party” she said softly.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it”

It seemed as if he wanted to tell her something else, but he couldn’t. He got closer. They looked at each other in the eyes and then without thinking, they kissed. She felt that she could melt, that was the sweetest kiss she had ever received.

That kiss was so different to Feliciano’s, they had kissed once, but she never felt anything. With Lars, to the contrary, she felt as if she was flying, she truly enjoyed it. She couldn’t feel the cold anymore. Then, he interrupted the kiss.

“Mei…” he said disturbed.

But she kissed him again and again. She didn’t want that kiss finished; she ignored what her conscience told her, forgetting her engagement. They smiled after some more kisses. Then, she put her head on his shoulder and they stayed there, forgetting the rest of the world. When they woke up, the sun was rising. He asked her to go to sleep and he’d do the same.

He accompanied her to her apartment and they said goodbye with another kiss. She felt excited, living a dream and not wanting to wake up. She found Ling sleeping on the couch, and then she woke up when she heard her.

“Where were you?” Ling asked her.

“I was with Lars” Mei said.

“Don’t tell me you spent the night with him?” her cousin asked shocked.

“No! Well, yes, I did, but not in the way you are thinking. We were just talking”

Ling raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

“Ling, don’t jump into conclusions too fast…” Mei sighed and sat next to her.

“What about Feliciano? In the first place, I know you don’t love him, that’s for sure. And Lars? Are you in love with him? I mean he is such a grump, but he is kinda hot too” Ling joked.

Mei smiled. She didn’t know what to do. Maybe, she had made the worst decision of her life, she could to resign herself and become the wife of a rich man and somehow being satisfied because that was her destiny. But no, she had to have that ridiculous dream and get out of her bubble and for the first time, live her life as she wanted.

The situation at work wasn’t easy when she found him waiting for her with a bouquet of tulips. She breathed deeply; it was now or never, if she didn’t tell him the truth, she could break his heart.

“Lars, we need to talk” she asked him softly.

“Sure” he said.

Then, an elegant man got in the store, it was Feliciano. He approached to her and hugged her. Lars was confused, waiting for an explanation. Mei pushed Feliciano aside. Then, he looked at Lars and shook his hand.

“You should be Mei’s boss” he told him.

“Yeah, I am, who are you?”

“I’m Feliciano Vargas, her fiancé. I’m here for her” he said, smiling.

Lars glared at Mei, he seemed angry. She tried to explain him, to tell him everything. The ambiance felt tense.

“Did I say something wrong?” Feliciano asked nervous “I’m going to wait for you outside” he said.

Mei wanted to cry, to hug Lars and tell him how much she loved him, that it was a complex situation, a mere misunderstanding. She couldn’t find the right words; she spoke quickly about her life, her real name, why she was there. Then, Lars complaint angrily:

“You lie to me! Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“Don’t say that! I tried, I swear I tried to tell you” she replied.

“But you didn’t. I don’t know who you are anymore; I can’t believe you used me! You were making fun of me all this time” he said, feeling betrayed.

“Lars, listen to me. I was being honest all the time, the only lie I told you was my surname”

“I don’t need your excuses. Maybe you should leave right now. I don’t want to see you ever again” he said.

Mei felt a lump in her throat. She just opened the door and left.

[missanthropicrn]

Imperfect Garden

Hey look at me running right up to the due date on an assignment. Takes me back to college!! I was the Secret Santa for @inkwelldried, and apparently one of the few that did a fic!

The menu of options given to me was dizzying and I honestly went with what gave me an opportunity to 1.write my favorite character, and 2. dance around a subject I know super well: death and dying. So... I guess this isn't the perkiest of fics but... It's Akio and Ruka, and I enjoyed writing it! I hope you like it, or at least find it interesting!

Warnings: There's nothing graphic at all and I actually meant for it to be not clear whether there was history there or not but Akio is gonna Akio so there's the underage thing implied.

Imperfect Garden

Death was here, clinging to the tables, the bed, the floor, oppressive and inescapable. It was a fog brought indoors, creating a haze about the room that Akio didn't necessarily dislike, but knew to be deceptive. The dying always think more clearly than everyone else.

“Chairman.”

Much more clearly. Exhaustion weighed down Ruka's eyelids, so that his lashes partly obscured his view. Jaundice left his skin otherworldly, yellow, and dehydration loosened it against a bony frame. He touched his face self-consciously, but if the sight of him alarmed Akio at all, he hid it well.

“You’re an old man, Ruka.”

“Just when I'd started getting good at being a teenager.”

“Unfortunately, those two conditions are not mutually exclusive.” His voice was startlingly loud for the room it filled. Or so it felt at first; it was only unhushed, and Ruka had forgotten what people sounded like when they weren't dancing around his condition. The bed creaked as Akio leaned against it, unaccustomed to the weight of flesh. Ruka watched him shift from one foot to the other, making himself comfortable. A chair was nearby, obscured by a mess of blankets, but Ruka knew it wouldn’t have mattered. Akio was exactly where he preferred to be. “Your nurse doesn’t think you're long for this world.”

“She saw me fold over my own legs this afternoon. It didn't inspire confidence.”

“Perhaps not in her. But if you ask me, I would say you don’t appear interested in death just yet.”

“Who would be?”

“Everyone, in the end. Of course, it’s the ‘in the end,’ part that people struggle with.” His gaze traced the thin tubing that began at an unfriendly looking machine and ended in Ruka's arm.

“Mm. It's strange to think at some point I'll be finished dying. The wait feels like an eternity, now that eternity isn't worth anything. Or...is there something Ends of the World can do about it that the Chairman cannot?” Ruka smiled, and Akio tipped his head, as if ceding a victory.

“That’s a question you should have asked me a long time ago.”

“I was afraid to. You might have said yes,” he murmured, attempting a wry tone. The hoarseness of his voice, gone dry with lack of use, didn’t quite manage it.

“And now, I might say no. The journey to acceptance is farther along than you think, though you're not so far gone that you would refuse a detour. I suspect you understand by now that taking the longer way will bring you to the same destination, whether I interfere or not. But… that's not why you're asking, is it?”

The head of the bed groaned, pulling Ruka upright. The movement brought on a wave of raspy, dry coughing. As he fought to catch his breath he heard a brief exchange between Akio and a nurse, and a tray being set down and swung around the bedside in front of him. What he glanced at warily, he reached for with a delight that surprised him.

“Real tea. Pu-erh? How did you get them to steep it right?”

“Explicit instruction.”

That was a smile Ruka didn't expect to see, all teeth and promises, and thrown by it, he turned his attention to what Akio had brought instead. His fingers were thin, but so was the teacup, a frail and delicate thing ready to droop with the weight of its contents. They drank in silence, while Ruka’s senses sluggishly tried to do the exquisite tea justice. He had mostly made his way through his cup before he bothered to notice the not-pattern of shimmering gold that decorated it. And Akio’s. And the teapot. He turned it in his hands, examining more closely. Veins glittered along the fault lines of what had clearly been shattered before.

“Kintsugi. Taking a broken thing and making it whole; a teacup mended with gold, to celebrate the flaws it has overcome, rather than pointlessly trying to conceal the obvious. People are no different, I find. A broken creature pulled back together may try to hide their flaws…”

“...but they should gild them instead.”

Akio’s laugh started somewhere in his diaphragm and ended in the pit of Ruka's stomach. It had not always been welcome there, but here and now, it made him more human than he'd been in weeks. His visitor seemed oblivious to his condition, speaking with the same purry, careless sensuality he'd had back at the school. That was centuries ago; back then, Ruka had been whole, bright-eyed, and confident, a beautiful youth brimming with potential. That was over. Ruka was sure whatever Akio had come for, it wouldn't be any good. Still, it felt wonderful to be on edge again. His thoughts stretched, waking from a drug-addled sleep. He'd forgotten what it felt like to think in anything but past tense, and warily, he let his mind wander to long-abandoned places: the present, and even worse… the future.

Akio, appearing satisfied with something, drew from his pocket a gold chain taut with the heavy weight of the locket it bore. Ruka's hand stretched out automatically, and the corners of his mouth turned down. It felt damp around the edges, waterlogged, but he didn't bother opening it.

Ruka's back straightened, scraps of stored up strength coalescing into defensiveness. It was definitely going to be necessary now, even if his clipped speech was not. “There really was no hope for her escaping Ends of the World. How were you going to resist a talent like that?”

“Do you think I tried to?”

Wrinkles around Ruka's eyes deepened as he squinted; the room was uncomfortably bright now that he was looking at it. Their appearance intrigued Akio. Seemingly unaware of the impropriety of his touch, he traced the thin line of a blue eyebrow down to where the wrinkles gathered, soft fingertips smoothing them out briefly before letting them form again. The contact was curious at first, only melting into sensuality as his fingers fell away, nails skirting down the side of Ruka’s face. Ruka shook his head, the beginning of a smirk on his cracked lips. Any other reaction, he thought, would be a waste of effort.

“She's a brilliant duelist. One of the most powerful I've ever seen." He nodded toward Ruka's hand. "But her full potential lies trapped there, close to her, and utterly out of her reach. She knows, as we know, that she cannot grasp it without breaking the locket. And she will break with it. I'd have the shards break into shapes I can use.”

The effort of sussing out Akio's motives lifted a heavy fog Ruka hadn't noticed was there until it wasn't. Every little beep and blip of the machines around him pressed into his attention, and the air felt crisp, electric. Perhaps it was the tea. He poured himself another glass, surprised by the weight of the teapot, and more so by his carelessly, successfully, lifting it. The astringent smokiness of it captured his senses for a brief, wonderful moment before he returned to reality. Akio had been watching him, evidently pleased with something. If it was because his eyes had cleared, whitened, and regained some of the spark of life, Ruka didn't know it.

“You would take this away from her? But she won't duel without it. It's what drives her.”

“Indeed it is. Arisugawa is set to duel once more, after which it would be best for all involved if miracles became less of a priority in her life.”

“So she will lose. She's just… a whetstone for the Sword of Dios.”

Ruka couldn't remember when Akio had moved from resting against the bed to sitting on it, but now he leaned back, his arm draped on the bedside table. “Does that anger you to know?”

“Not at all. Miracles are not what Juri needs.”

Akio laughed. “She doesn’t know that. Or...she doesn’t believe she knows it. You are at the mercy of the ticking clock, far outside the reach of Dios’ power. And for it, you have something she lacks. The perspective of hindsight.”

“Call it what it is,” Ruka murmured, flexing his fingers around the locket. “It's the perspective of the dying.”

“Yes...that’s another way to put it.” A curious expression passed over Akio's face, as if he'd momentarily forgotten Ruka was yellow, emaciated, and bedridden in front of him. To tell the truth, Ruka had briefly forgotten this himself. Akio pressed on, “Your insight is precious. A beautiful consequence of bitter mortality. It’s something that can’t be grown in a perfect garden. So I must, at times, have it brought in.”

That smile again. The one that promised so much more than the obvious, as much as the obvious appealed. How could Akio smile at him like that? Like nothing had changed, like he was still a beautiful young man with a bright, tempting smile of his own. Didn't he see how Ruka looked? This was somehow worse than the reserved care others took with him. It made him miss, and regret, and want, and served no purpose...

“The correct answer to whatever I offer, of course, is no...”

“I'm well aware of that, Akio. Wisdom is no protection from you.”

“Yet, here I am, at your end, knowing you won't refuse me.”

Akio’s voice had turned all velvet and smoke, and it brought back memories Ruka thought he had no use for anymore. Good and bad, pleasure and pain, hope and failure. The Dueling Game came rushing back to him, bringing it with it a thirst no tea could ever quench. Akio knew it, too: he recognized that flirtatious satisfaction. It was in the way he leaned back, encroaching on Ruka’s space. Recollection flooded the hollowed out spaces in his mind. He knew this look. His agreement was a foregone conclusion.

Ruka broke the gaze Akio had captured to stare down at the locket. There was no point asking why it was in his hands now, he thought, trying to temper a gnawing eagerness with cynicism. The fingers framing its shimmering gold were twig-like, all visible veins and paper-thin fingernails. They curled around the imagined hilt of a sword, aching with a sudden, overwhelming eagerness to test its weight.

“Sharpen the blade she wields. Bring her to the arena. And let it break her.”

“What do I get out of this?” Ruka cringed at his own voice. It was louder than it had been, and it was hungry, and hopeful, and he knew that was not going to help him.

“Saving her from herself is not enough?” Akio lifted his hand before Ruka could answer, falling just short of silencing him with a touch to his lips. “You will be given a gift only someone who has received it themselves can give. Something only we would understand. An escape, whatever the cost, from the overwhelming dread of dying.”

Ruka’s expression soured, his gut grasping what reasoning hadn’t caught up to yet. “....and death?”

“Death has already claimed you, and that I can’t change. But come to the school, accept its illusions, and you will, until that moment, live as you lived before. Whole, and human, and not bound to a bed melting before your very eyes.”

A slow inhale. A dry mouth. Fingers twitched again, swearing this time they could feel the soft grip of worn leather. Of his sword. Ruka’s chest hitched, and pain blossomed with the motion, bouncing around against his aching ribs. For a split second, he feared the worst, but he was mistaken. It was, much to his surprise, laughter.

“But it won't be real. I'll still be dying.”

"No. It won't be real. Will it matter, if you believe it?"

"How can I believe I'm not dying? I can't even walk. I can't.." Ruka gestured to the tubing hanging from his arm.

“Had I asked you when I walked in what color the walls were, you wouldn’t have been able to tell me. And had you not been busy trying to guess my angle, you would have choked on the tea.” Akio’s fingers returned again to the yellowing skin at the corner of an eyelid, this time spreading into Ruka’s hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp. “Dying is an active process. So is forgetting. You can pick between them, and it is in my power to make either convincing.”

“Yes.” The word escaped Ruka’s lips in an explosive breath, before he let himself think better of it. When he uttered the word again, it was heavy with doubt, and Akio grinned at the sound of it.

"Guilt is for the living, Ruka. You know that better than anyone." A thumb stroked Ruka's temple, and he shivered. He found, somewhere, the energy to shiver, as well as the energy to respond to the inviting purr of Akio's voice. "I admit, I find you quite captivating the way you are. But there's no shame in wanting to escape the heavy burden of mortality."

Though neither budged, Ruka felt the space between them close. It had always felt that way, like Akio controlled the air's willingness to divide them. Ruka parted his lips, licking them, unsurprised by now to find them smooth and supple, though they'd felt like sandpaper an hour ago. Fingers tightened behind his head, and he found himself grinning, a lazily inviting expression testing itself on his face. This he remembered: that the prize was always in resisting the temptation. There was no fun in it if you didn’t let yourself be lured in, a little.

Akio laughed, indulgent and almost chiding. His fingers drew back, running through smooth, short locks of dark blue. "What happened to your hair?"

Ruka blinked as he withdrew, a familiar combination of tension and relief in it, before shrugging a little awkwardly, watching Akio's fingers. "I was...doing especially poorly last month, and the hair had matted. The nurses were forced to cut off what they couldn't untangle." He smoothed over the back of his head self-consciously, half-aware that he couldn't see the veins in his hands as they approached. "Will it grow back when I forget that?"

Akio pursed his lips, considering this, and Ruka imagined he could see either state as readily as the other. He laughed, exasperated as the answer became obvious.

"No, I don't think so. It suits you."

[welovekpopscenarios]

Secret Admirer (Wonho x Reader)

Admin: Candi Request: “Hi there!! May I request for a MX Wonho scenario where his secret admirer sends him cute love notes attach with candies or ramen and finally discovers that it's his own crush too? Please and thanks!! ^^ - vickyxmelonlove” Fandom: Monsta X Member/reader: Wonho x Reader Genre/warning(s): college au (I guess), fluff Words: 2k Authors note: It felt so weird writing fluff for Wonho. I know I said to send Wonho fluff so Mimi could write it but you guys are real mvp’s and you sent a good few fluffy Wonho requests so I took one off her so she wouldn’t be over loaded with fics (she agreed to it, it wasn’t against her own will I promise).

You look so cool every day in class Wonho,

I know this might seem creepy and weird but I don’t have the guts to tell you I like you

So, little notes will have to do for now,

I’m sorry if this weirds you out,

But at least I attached some ramen to this!

Hope it makes it less weird x

-Secret Admirer

           That was the first note you ever sent to Wonho, the beginning of countless notes that you sent him every day in hopes of making his day a little brighter. You became an expert on sneaking notes into his bag and his locker, you were sure you could pull off robbing a bank without getting caught at this stage. You’d wait around for him to find the note just to see his reaction, at first when he started receiving them he was quite confused but after a couple of tries he started smiling and laughing at them.

           You and Wonho were friends, not extremely close but you would hang out sometimes if your groups of friends came together and you always seemed to have so much fun together, you instantly clicked when you met each other. In college, you would help each other with certain subjects and you’d text once or twice a week, so you could say you were friends, just not very close and you wanted to change that. You had a crush on him ever since you first spoke to him – Your and Wonhos group of friends decided to go bowling together and that’s where you met, you were hopeless at bowling and he helped you with the position of your hand and stuff you completely missed because you were too busy thinking about how cute he is.

           Over time, you noticed little things about him, the way his eyes fall in the middle of class because he was getting distracted with his scribbles, how his arms tensed whenever he was finding something difficult, his lazy smiles in your direction when he’s not interested in the class whatsoever. All those things just made you fall for him more and eventually it became a bit too much for you to keep bottled up so, notes seemed like a good idea.

           Wonho looked so dismal today, he looked pale and uninterested in being in class. You were surprised to see him come in when he was feeling the way he was. You weren’t going to send him a note today but you thought it might make him feel better. During a break between classes, you went to the vending machine and picked out a few candies and put them in a little bag.

You don’t look so good today

I hope everything is okay

There are a few candies in the bag just to cheer you up

I’m sorry if you’re feeling down

Everything will work out x

-Secret Admirer

           You wrote and stapled the little bag onto the note. At lunch, your eyes searched the canteen for him, once you finally got a glimpse of where he was sitting you left your own table for a minute and as you were walking past him you dropped the note into his bag, you did it as smoothly as ever with no one noticing, making it look like you were walking over to buy some food.

           “Hey!” You heard the manly voice behind you. You froze instantly thinking he might have seen you drop it into his bag, you prepared yourself mentally for embarrassment.

           “Hey Wonho.” You turn around and you looked paler than usual.

           “How’re you today?” He asks.

           “I’m good, good, everything is good.” You’re such an idiot, you sound so nervous but you can’t help but think that he saw you drop the note into his bag.

           “We were thinking about going out today after college. Want to come along and bring your friends?”

           “Sounds like fun but I’m not really the going out type.” Your voice less shaky now after realizing he didn’t notice you.

           “Oh, that’s okay. So, what do you do for fun?”

           “Uhm, I’m really boring, I enjoy spending my nights in and watching some movies with food, I dunno.” You scratched the back of your head and played with your fingers, you felt lame, Wonho was very outgoing and his friends always went out to have fun but you honestly preferred staying in. Sure, you loved going out from time to time but you didn’t go out as much as Wonho.

           “You’re not boring.” He laughs. “I love staying in and watching movies, I really only go out because they make me. Maybe we can have a movie night some time?” Your heart races at his suggestion.    

           “Sure! I have to go get some food, I’ll see you in class.” You quickly walk away and try to calm yourself. Did he really just ask if you’d like a movie night with him?

           Back in class, you noticed he was eating your candies. He offered you some but you kindly refused, you were just happy to see he was feeling a bit better.

Your phone buzzed.

Bestie: Everyone is going out tonight, are you coming?

Y/N: No, I’m not really up for it, the weather is meant to be shitty tonight and I don’t feel like getting soaked.

Bestie: Your call.

           The rest of the day was pretty boring, the classes seemed to drag and you just wanted to go home and cuddle up in your blanket. You were contemplating leaving early today to catch up on some sleep but you enjoyed college simply for Wonho, being able to chit chat with him made your days better. After a while of thinking you decided to bail, you only had three classes left so it didn’t matter that much, you weren’t going to focus anyway.

*buzz*

Wonho: Where are you? It’s not like you to miss class.

Y/N: I don’t know, I just wasn’t feeling the best. I’m pretty distracted today so there’s no point trying to listen to the lecturers.

Wonho: Are you okay?

Y/N: Yeah, I’m fine, just distracted. That being said, I’ll stop distracting you haha, have fun tonight. I’ll see you Monday.

Wonho: I don’t think I’m going to go.

Y/N: Oh really? Why?

Wonho: Not feeling it and your plan of staying in seems much better.

Y/N: You’d probably have more fun going out.

Wonho: I doubt it. Maybe you wanna come over and we can have that movie night tonight?

 Your stomach twisted. How were you going to get out of this? The small contact between you was enough to make you fall for him, you couldn’t let yourself become completely absorbed by him. You didn’t open the message, instead you stuffed your phone in your pocket and pretended that never happened. If he brought this up to you, you’d find a way of explaining yourself.

Later that night you were in your bedroom checking your social media and you noticed people putting up photos of their night out, everyone was loud, obnoxious and extremely drunk. For a second, you regretted not going out but the feeling quickly passed as you heard the ding of your microwave signaling that your noodles were done. You carefully took them out and sat on your couch cuddled up in your blanket. Your moment of enjoyment was interrupted by the buzz of your phone, again.

 Wonho: Don’t ignore me :(

             Fuck.

 Y/N: I’m sorry Wonho, I’d love to hang out with you and have a movie night but I just felt kind of nervous, idk.

Wonho: I don’t bite.

Y/N: I know, I know. I’m sorry I just

             (REALLY FUCKING LIKE YOU)

 Wonho: That’s okay! I understand, don’t worry about it! We’ll have it some other time.

Y/N: Thanks for understanding. I’m gonna head to bed, I’m pretty wrecked. Goodnight :)

Wonho: Sweet dreams :)

            That was a lie, you were going to spend more time in front of the TV, thinking about your stupid crush on Wonho.

I hope you had a good weekend,

I heard everyone was going out so you probably went out too,

The hangover probably got you bad,

Have a good week x

-Secret Admirer

            You prepared the note on Monday morning to slip into his locker. You played dumb in the note just so he wouldn’t catch on to the fact that it was you, nice save. You walked out your door and made your way to college. Once you got there everyone was talking about how good the night out was and how much you missed out on but quite frankly, you didn’t care. You dismissed their comments and hurried to Wonhos locker to drop the note in before you had to go to class. You carefully looked around the corridor to make sure no one was around, most importantly – Wonho. You took the note out of your pocket and slipped it in between the cracks.

           “What are you doing?” A voice way too familiar for you to not recognize. You scrunch your nose and close your eyes as hard as you can and slowly turn around. You opened up one eye in hopes it wouldn’t be who you think it was but unfortunately it was Wonho.

           “Oh God.” You don’t know what to say, you were going to have to own up to the fact that you’re the secret admirer.

           “Wait...” Wonhos eyes widened at the realization that you’re the one who has been sending the notes. All those times you were around when he read the notes suddenly hit him, you were always there whenever he read them, whether it was right next to him or peeking at him from a distance. He felt stupid for not catching on faster, it was quite obvious as the thinks about it. You both stay quiet for a while and both of you can hear your heartbeat, you were getting ready to be made fun of, preparing to have your heart broken. Tears started to form in your eyes against your own will, you rolled your eyes to try to get rid of them, you felt like an idiot but didn’t want to look like one as well in front of him.

           The silence lasted way longer than you’d like it to but none of you could find anything to say, you were waiting for him to say something and he was too stunned to say anything.

           “Welp, uhh, so I’m the secret admirer.” Your voice was shaky and your chin was quivering, you were ready to burst into tears, you felt pathetic. Wonho smiled at you and hugged you tightly, you didn’t know whether it was a pity hug or a ‘thank you friend’ hug. You patted his back and took deep breaths.

           “Y/N why do you think I invited you over? I’m crazy about you! Ever since we met at the bowling alley I’ve been so into you, I just never had the balls to tell you.” He finally said something and it couldn’t have been more perfect, your emotions let loose and your tears fell involuntarily. You hugged back into him and rubbed your eyes on his shoulder.

           “Really?” You sob.

           “Yes, really!” He reassures you, his thumb wiping away your tears. He put your hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead. You finally calmed down and quickly fixed yourself in the reflection of your phone.

           “You okay?” He tries to catch your eyes with his but you felt too shy to look at him.

           “I just didn’t think you liked me, I was getting ready to get laughed at and have my heart broken.” You laughed and he smiled at you.

           “Well, I’m crazy about you and I’m so glad you feel the same way about me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”            

           “Don’t apologise, I could have said something too.”

           “Now that that’s cleared up, how about that movie night?”

           “Sounds perfect.” You smiled at him and he put his arm around you, both of you made your way to the class and as you walked through the corridor all you could hear was; “About time.” From both of your friends.