#i know some of you aren't doing so well all the time and that's okay! don't stress yourself over it. it will be better again

[cheapshrimpysheep]

In the Backstage

SUMMARY: He invites you to watch the inter-school Battle of the Bands where the Pop Music Club will represent Night Raven College and compete with other schools, one of them being Royal Sword Academy. But unfortunately, they come in second place. He also gave you a VIP pass to visit him backstage after the competition.

CHARACTERS: Pop Music Club 🎼 (Cater Diamond / Kalim Al-Asim / Lilia Vanrouge)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kiss; Comfort

WORD COUNT: An average of 1.330 words per character.

COMMENTS: The Pop Music Club was the first club with the cards released and the first one I wrote something about. But nowadays, and compared to what I've written for other clubs, I thought it was worth writing something new and better. Especially for Cater, Kalim and/or Lilia fans.

I hope you enjoy it. 😉

OTHER CLUBS:

But… We Lost… - Basketball Club (Ace / Floyd / Jamil)

Romantic Experiment - Science Club (Trey / Rook)

For a Quarter of a Second - Track and Field Club (Deuce / Jack)

Unlucky Overtime - Spelldrive Club (Leona / Ruggie / Epel)

A Rainy Walk - Mountain Lover Club (Jade) / Gargoyle Studies Club (Malleus)

.

You are at another Unbirthday Party in Heartslabyul when Cater announces that there will be an interschool battle of the bands. The Pop Music Club will represent Night Raven College and compete with other schools including Royal Sword Academy.

The other Heartslabyul students didn't seem very confident that Cater and the others would win.

“Aww, come on...” Cater says disappointedly. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

“Well... some of us have already seen the few concerts you've given...” Trey says with that polite smile. “That and...” He smirks “We also know how much effort you guys really put into your club.”

“Auch, you are such meanies.” Cater says sadly. “Do you really have no hope in us?”

“I wouldn't say we have no hope. I do hope you win.” Trey simply says smiling.

“We all want Night Raven College to win, that's not even in question.” Riddle says. “But Trey is right. The three of you have already let it slip that you spend your meetings eating snacks and talking instead of practicing. And I've also seen one of your concerts.” He says with that disappointed face that looks like he's about to sigh. “If you truly want to win against Royal Sword Academy you will have to put in some real effort!”

“I should have known the conversation would go this way." Cater sighs as he plays with a strand of hair. “But you're right, Housewarden. I promise we'll do our best. Anyway, I wanted to invite you all. Ta-da!”

Cater takes five tickets out of his coat pocket and gives them to Trey, Riddle, Ace, Deuce and finally you. “Front row! The best seats!”

“Hey! What about me?!” Grim complains.

“You both count as one student, so you only need one ticket. Isn't that cool?” Cater explains.

Both Ace and Deuce say they believe in Cater and the others to win. Ace because he's a bootlicker and Deuce because he's just that naive. As Grim begins to focus more on the food than on you, Cater gets closer.

“Hey, (Y/N)-chan~” He whispers to you. “You're going to root for me, aren't you~? I got you a special ticket.” He discreetly passes you another paper that said ‘VIP pass’. “You can meet me backstage after the concert if you want. You will make Cay-kun very happy if you do~” he winks.

Cater was really happy to see you in the audience, in the seat he arranged for you, along with the other Heartslabyul students. During the NRC song he looked at you many times.

To your surprise and that of all the other students who had seen them perform before, this time, they were actually taking it seriously. They were having fun as always, but you could tell they had been practicing and were trying hard to win. Lilia didn't even try to do his scream vocals or throw himself into the audience. Okay, he pretended he was going to do it, but just to startle the people at the front of the stage, he didn't actually do it.

The performance really went well, their best concert so far. But... unfortunately... Royal Sword Academy was better. At least for the jury who gave them first place, while Night Raven College got second... as always.

There was a buffet for the guests after the competition and both Trey and Riddle told you that you could leave Grim with them while you went to check on Cater. They could tell that he had worked hard and might be a little down from losing to RSA. They also agreed that you would be the best person to cheer him up if needed.

Using your VIP pass, you entered backstage and passed Kalim and Lilia in the hallways. Kalim was happy to have made it this far to the point of being ranked second among so many other schools with talented students and so was Lilia. But Lilia whispered to you that perhaps Cater would be more cheer up if you went to see him in their dressing room.

You do so and Lilia and Kalim head outside to meet up with the others. When you arrive in front of the door that Lilia indicated to you, you knock on it and tell Cater it's you. He casually asks you to wait just a second, and only then does he open the door for you.

“Hey, (Y/N)-chan~” Cater greets you with his signature smile. “I'm glad to see you using the VIP pass I gave you. I hope you enjoyed our show.”

You tell him you loved it and how it was the best they've ever done, at least compared to what you've seen.

“Aw, you’re so sweet~. We really tried hard this time. It was difficult to convince Kalim and Lilia to take this a little more seriously, but they did it for the school. Ha ha... It's just a shame we didn't win.”

“But you did won.” You say. “Second place at least.”

“Yeah... Second place... You’re right! We won one of the best places and I'm really happy about that. All our training was worth it!” He says with a big smile. “We should go celebrate with the others.”

But you don't move out of his way so he can go through the open door. You knew that was his happy mask and you wanted to talk to him alone, to try to get him to be honest with you.

“Before that, I liked to see your dressing room. I never saw what one actually looked like in real life.” You tell him.

“Oh, it's a little small for three people, but it's actually pretty cool. Come in, I'll show you.”

You walk in and close the door behind you, which Cater doesn't find strange. He shows you the dressing tables that they used to put on their makeup, the instruments that still needed to be stored in the boxes, the cart where their clothes were, etc.

“Cater...” You say almost interrupting him. He looks at you. “I know you're not doing so well. Lilia knows you're not doing so well. Riddle and Trey knew you might be a little sad after all your effort. You can be honest with me.”

“You're all so sweet to worry about Cay-kun so much. But I'm fine, I promise.” He smiles and winks at you.

“Okay. Then give me a hug.” You say, opening your arms.

He's taken a little aback and says that you're really cute, but that he's actually fine. However, you don't low your arms and say that you want to give him a hug to congratulate him on his performance. He sighs and ends up accepting.

He starts by giving you a hug like he always does. But then, the hug becomes a little tighter and more sincere.

“I’m sorry...” He whispers, close to your ear and with difficulty. “...I did my best...” His words were almost inaudible.

You hug him tighter and tell him that you know, that everyone knows, and that it's okay to be sad about not winning first place. You also tell him he can stay there with you as long as he wants until he feels better. Actually better.

This makes him hug you tighter.

“I don't want to waste your time.” He whispers again, as if at the same time that he wants to say it, he doesn't want you to hear it.

“You're not.” You whisper back to him. “You're never.”

He asks again if you really thought he acted well and you are sincere in saying yes and that he can ask whoever he wants, everyone will say it was their best performance. After some time, he breaks the hug and discreetly wipes away a little tear that you hadn't even realized that he had shed.

“Ha ha. This isn't very cute, is it?” He says.

“You are always very cute.” You reply, cupping his face.

“You too.” He smiles and places his hands over yours that you placed on his face. “Do you know what would really make me feel a lot better?”

You smile, showing that you probably know. You move closer to him and he moves closer to you in response, until you kiss. You feel his smile on your lips and then his hands on your back to bring you closer.

“(Y/N)!!!” You hear Kalim's voice shout, approaching, running behind you.

You were in the hallway, in the break between classes with Grim, Ace and Deuce. You turn around and Kalim stops in front of you, tired but with his huge sunny smile on. As he catches his breath, you see Jamil running towards you with that stressed look on his face. Kalim probably started running all of a sudden when he saw you.

“(Y/N)! There's going to be an interschool battle of the bands!” Kalim tells you. “And we're going to compete. You have to come see us!”

“The Pop Music Club will compete for Night Raven College.” Jamil explains. “And the members can invite any students they want to the front rows of the audience.” He took three tickets out of his hoodie pocket and gives one to Ace, one to Deuce and one to you.

“Hey! What about me?!” Grim complains.

“Since you and (Y/N) are counted as one student, you only need one ticket to be able to go together.” Jamil explains.

“I'm so excited! Especially to see you in the audience.” Kalim tells you. “I’ll do my best to give you the best show ever!”

After all the classes, when you were already in Ramshackle Dorm, you hear someone knocking on the door. When you open it, you see Kalim and Jamil.

“Hey! I wanted to give you something else, but Jamil said it was better to do it when you were alone.” Kalim takes a ticket from his pants pocket, a different color from the others, and gives it to you. “It's a VIP pass. I would love it if you could come see us backstage after the competition.”

“If we had given you this ticket in front of the others,” Jamil says with that annoyed expression. “I can easily see Ace and Grim trying to convince Kalim to give them a VIP pass as well. Even though each member only has one VIP pass each to give to someone”

Kalim was so happy to see you in the front row, in the seat he had arranged for you, that he got distracted before they start playing, waving and smiling at you. Cater was the one who called his attention to come back to the drums.

To your surprise and that of all the other students who had seen them perform before, this time they were actually taking it seriously. They were having fun as always, but you could tell they had been practicing and were trying hard to win. Lilia didn't even try to do his scream vocals or throw himself into the audience. Okay, he pretended he was going to do it, but just to startle the people at the front of the stage, he didn't actually do it.

The performance really went well, their best concert so far. But... unfortunately... Royal Sword Academy was better. At least for the jury who gave them first place, while Night Raven College got second... as always.

There was a buffet for the guests after the competition and you took advantage of Grim being busy with the food to use your VIP pass to go see Kalim, Cater and Lilia backstage.

You found them in the hallway. The three of them were smiling and talking excitedly, and when Kalim saw you, his smile grew even bigger and he ran to you.

“(Y/N)! What did you think of our show? Did you enjoy it?”

He was as happy as if he had won first place. You should know by now that winning or not is not what's important to him. As you told them how much you enjoyed their music and how it was probably their best concert yet, Cater noticed something.

“Hey, Kalim, didn't you have a ring on each hand?”

Kalim looks at his right hand, which had a ring on the index finger. Then he looks at his left and sees that there is no ring. Kalim searches through his pockets until he remembers that he had taken off his rings to wash his hands and must have only remembered to put one back on. Cater tells him and you to go back to the bathroom or the dressing room to see if you can find it while he and Lilia go meet the others at the after-party.

On the way to the bathroom, the two of you started talking, about the music, the performance, the competition in general, other things that had nothing to do with anything...

In the bathroom Kalim looks for the ring, but came out saying that he couldn't find it anywhere, so maybe you should look in the dressing room. In the dressing room you look for the ring on the floor, since Kalim said he had sat on the floor packing some things. You find the ring under one of the dressing tables they used to put on makeup, give it to him and he puts it back on his finger. When he does this, you can see his nails better.

“Ooh, you noticed my nails! Yeah, they're gold with a tiger-stripe pattern. Cool, huh? I can help you do your nails like this too. It would be fun if we matched. OH! Speaking of which.”

He walks over to a large cardboard box that was in the corner of the room, opens it, and takes out a white t-shirt.

“Our matching T-shirts are custom-made, you know. We ordered more to sell as merch.” When he unfolds it and shows you the front, it's a t-shirt exactly like his. “Which is how we blew through what little budget we had.”

He walks back to you and hands you the t-shirt. It's a little bigger than the size you normally wear.

“Sorry, we only made one size. I think it was because it was cheaper. He he. It's the same size as ours.”

You thank him and say you're excited to trying it on, so Kalim turns around so you can swap shirts. As soon as you tell him you're ready, he turns around and smiles when he sees you wearing the same t-shirt as him.

“It looks so good on you!” Kalim looks at his hand which has the ring with a red stone. “Hey, try this too.” He takes off the ring from his index finger, comes closer to you and holds out his hand. “Can I?” he asks with a cute smile.

You place your left hand on his right hand and he instinctively puts the ring on your ring finger.

“Another gift for you. For being my best friend and best fan, Heh heh heh. I tried really hard today because I really wanted to make you proud. We didn't get first place, but second is also really cool, isn't it? I won for the school and for you.”

In the midst of so much joy, you end up hugging him to thank him for the gifts and to say that you agree that second place is incredible too. He hugs you back so happily that he even spins you around, making you lift your feet off the ground.

You knew that even if Kalim really liked you, he wouldn't just give you a kiss out of the blue. So you're the one who does it and kisses him on the cheek. He's surprised for a second, but then he kisses your cheek back.

“Even though this day is already amazing.” He says, still hugging you and his face is so close to yours that your noses are almost touching. “The best part is still celebrating with you.” He ends by saying in a lower, more affectionate tone. His eyes inviting you to kiss him again.

You do it, but this time on his lips. You feel his enthusiasm and love not only by the intensity of his kiss but by the way he hugs you tighter.

You were coming back from Mr. S's Mystery Shop, while Grim had stayed at Ramshackle Dorm out of laziness, when you comment to yourself something about the shopping bags being a little heavy.

“You should not be shy about asking a trusted colleague for assistance then.” Lilia says, suddenly appearing upside down.

You get startled and almost drop one of the two bags you were carrying, but Lilia catches it in time.

“You are carrying all these purchases alone? Allow me to be your cute little helper until arriving at Ramshackle Dorm.”

He puts his feet on the ground and walks with you. You ask him if there was any reason for him to be around.

“Do you mean any other than a simple, pleasant walk? Ku fu fu. Well, yes. I was looking for students to invite to the interschool Battle of the Bands. The Pop Music Club will compete for Night Raven College against other arcana academies. One of our enemies being Royal Sword Academy.” He says with that smug smile. “I have a special ticket for you and Grim in the front row, along with Malleus, Silver, and Sebek.”

Lilia makes a ticket appear in his hand and gives it to you. He also explains that since you and Grim are counted as one student, you only need one ticket to go together.

“However,” Lilia smirks. “I have in my possession another type of ticket, an even more special and exclusive one, that I intend to gift to you and only you. Have I piqued your curiosity?”

Of course you are.

“Khee hee hee, that is the spirit! Here.” He makes another ticket appear, different from the first one he gave you. “It is a VIP pass. You can visit us in the trenches after the battle. Or as they call it, backstage.” His smug smile returns. “It would be a great pleasure to celebrate our victory with you.”

Lilia spotted you first. When you saw him he was already looking at you smiling. But during the performance he gave as much attention to you as he did to his Diasomnia boys. If you want to be Lilia's biggest cheerleader, you'll have to compete with Sebek, or simply join him.

To your surprise and that of all the other students who had seen them perform before, this time, they were actually taking it seriously. They were having fun as always, but you could tell they had been practicing and were trying hard to win. Lilia didn't even try to do his scream vocals or throw himself into the audience. Okay, he pretended he was going to do it, but just to startle the people at the front of the stage, he didn't actually do it.

The performance really went well, their best concert so far. But... unfortunately... Royal Sword Academy was better. At least for the jury who gave them first place, while Night Raven College got second... as always.

There was a buffet for the guests after the competition and you took advantage of Grim being busy with the food to use your VIP pass to go see Lilia, Kalim and Cater backstage.

You found them in the hallway. They were smiling and chatting excitedly when they saw you. All three of them really wanted to know what you thought of their performance and you said that it was the best show of theirs that you had ever seen.

While the four of you are talking, Lilia has the feeling of having forgotten something. And then he realizes that he was missing one of the necklaces. He must have forgotten it in the dressing room and suggests that Kalim and Cater go meet the others in the after-party while asking you to go with him to help him look for the necklace.

The two of you go to the dressing room that was provided for the three of them and start looking for the necklace. You ask him if he remembers when he took the necklace off his neck, but... he doesn't. You see him making that sulky face. His biggest pet peeve was missing things and then looking for them, and remember this makes you giggle.

“Are you laughing at my misfortune?” Lilia messes with you. “I lose such an important item and the person I trusted to help me makes fun of my memory loss. How mean. You are so cruel. *snif*” He fake whines.

You know he's just messing with you and tell him that you just thought it was funny because you remembered that it was his pet peeve.

“Do you know what kind of necklace I am searching for?” He asks with a smirk. “It is a long chain with a tag, all made of stainless steel. It's called Dog Tag, or more precisely: Military Dog Tag. Nowadays, many young people use it for style, especially cool band members such as yours truly. But its origins date back a few decades, during a battle between humans, as a way to identify soldiers who were wounded or killed on the battlefield. That is why these tags usually have the names, ranks and even the blood type of the respective soldiers engraved on them. Quite interesting, don't you think?” He smiles casually.

You agree, but ask why he decided to tell you that at that moment.

“Fu fu.” He smiles smugly again, the raspberry red of his eyes piercing you. “You are able to understand why this necklace suits me, correct? Should you not be more careful when laughing at me?”

In response, you smile at him relaxedly and tell him that you trust him.

“Khee hee hee, I'm actually glad to hear that.” Lilia smiles sweetly at you and suddenly seems to remember something that made him bursts out laughing.

You ask what he was laughing at. What had he remembered?

“HA HA HA HA! My memory really is not what it used to be. After our song, I accidentally broke my chain. But Kalim said he knew someone who could fix it and make it look like new. I told him ‘I'm actually glad to hear that’ and he put it in his trouser pocket. Ha ha ha ha!”

So you were looking for something that wasn't even there. And neither Lilia, Kalim nor Cater remembered that. You laugh with Lilia.

“Oh well, at least this little mistake served to spend a pleasant time alone with you.” He smiles seductively, abruptly switching the mood. “You know, second place is as noble a position as first place, but...” he makes puppy eyes at you. “I am quite sad to have dishonored our school by losing again Royal Sword Academy. *snif* Oh, if a loving soul could soothe my sorrows.” He closes his eyes sadly, but opens one to look at you with a sly smile at the corner of his lips.

You chuckle and ask if a hug would help. He says yes and hugs you before you can change your mind.

“At least it was fun.” He says close to your ear. “And it was a good sight to see you rooting for me. You are such a cute fan~” He pulled his head away, but didn't break the hug and pressed his nose against yours, looking at you provocatively. “But I wonder what kind of fan you would like to be. Cater told us some... captivating stories. Fu fu~”

Your noses were touching, but he wouldn't move any further than that. He expected you to take the initiative from there. If you do, and kiss him, you will feel his smile on your lips and the type of his hug gradually changing.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

THE MIND OF A WEIRD BLACK GIRL

CHAPTER 3: "I HATE COLD FOOD"

Platonic yandere!batfamily x Deathstroke!reader

SYNOPSIS: He's been visiting me once a week like I'm his child in college, BUT THE FUCKER PUT ME IN HERE!!! And if there wasn't a thick glass between us, the old man would be DEAD.

People say that living in Arkham sucks fucking ass, but it's not that bad, really. Well, okay, it is that bad. There's rats chewing on electric wires, and the "villains" keep trying to break out but get hauled back in here like groceries. The psychologist keeps asking stupid questions that make you go more insane than the Sesame Street that keeps playing on those busted TVs. They won't show anything else but kid stuff or the news—something about not showing the patients violence. But let's be real here, this isn't some regular insane asylum; this place is more like a fucking prison. Your room got switched out for something that looks like you're locked up in Alcatraz. You have a collar on your neck that lets out calming mist that knocks you out or makes you fall asleep when pressed, but because the electrocuting one was too "inhuman," like this place wasn't completely inhuman. But it's not too bad. You've been through worse training with Slade. It makes you laugh. One time he left you on an island with only a knife and dreams: "If you survive, you become my prodigy." Now that was worse. It made you laugh because the old man had left food and supplies lying around because he cared, unlike, well, he who shall not be named. And by he who shall not be named, he's visiting you today. And let's be honest, he's been visiting you every Friday at 3, every single damn time—not a second late. He's not tired of your face; he's not tired of the scowl you give. He's not scared when you punch the windows or yell that you'll kill him because the reason why you're here is because you tried to kill him, but you failed, getting caught by his dusty sons before you could stab him right between the eyes. You were so close, yet so far—so fucking far. And now you're here. Pretty ironic you'd tried to get locked up for hours so that you wouldn't see him, but you get dragged out of your room. It doesn't matter how hard you thrash or how many nurses and doctors you slam against the walls; they roll your ass into that meeting room whether you like it or not. You tried to run out once before he could start talking, but the guards activated your collar, leaving you motionless in the chair for two minutes. They do it a lot now, and now he has a remote to activate it when you get out of hand. How fucking perfect is that?"[Name Wayne]," said a voice on the intercom. It made you shake, knowing what was to come of this. The nurses were getting tired of fighting with you just to see your dad, and you knew he was tired of pressing that button, but you seriously didn't want to talk to him at all. "[Name Wayne], come to the visiting room, please. You have a visitor; he has a gift for you." A gift? Does he think I'm a baby? Jesus Christ. A nurse came around but stayed six feet away from you.

"Uhmm, [Ms. Wayne]?" asked a timid nurse. "I have ears; I'll go," you groaned, getting off the couch in the place they call the entertainment room, which was just three boxes, a TV, card games, and board games. Entertainment, my ass. The nurses tried to touch you, but you slapped their hands away. "I can go there on my own; I need this over with." You walked down the corridors. The hallways felt longer than they did before. Were you walking slow just because you didn't want to see him? Get a grip, [Name]. He's just an old man—an old man who abandoned you twice, choked you out, and broke your rib. You aren't afraid of him. You refuse to be. He should be afraid of you and what you're going to do to him when you get out, and when you get out, he's going to wish he had better security in this place.

You entered the visiting room, and there he was, his face shaved, lemon-pepper hair gracing his black locs. He had a small scar above his eyebrow, and it made you feel proud—you had done this to him. So proud, you placed your feet in front of him, picked up the phone beside you, and held it to your ear.

"Afternoon," you mumbled.

"Afternoon," he answered.

Then silence. He spoke after a moment.

"No nurses?"

"Nah, I wanted to give them a break this week."

He laughed; it was a short, raspy laugh, one you were used to. He shouldn't be laughing, not at all. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk."

We're talking right now," you said,

I'm already feeling a migraine coming on.

"You used to talk more. You'd tell me everything, and more."

Oh God, he's reminiscing. "I was twelve, Bruce. I didn't know how to shut up."

"And now you do." He smiled, and it was that warm, dad smile that made you want to puke. You felt your collar beep.

"Something wrong?"

"Nothing, just tired."

Tired of you, but he really wasn't here just to talk—he's a detective with questions, and you're someone with answers.

"I took Slade to prison."

Great, imprisoning another father figure. How beautiful.

"God, you can't be serious."

You sighed.

"I am."

"Is that my gift imprisoning my mentor. "

"Yes." This has to be a joke. Taking the person who cares most about me and putting them in prison? Great, just terrific, Father of the damn Year.

"I'm going to kill you, you know that, right?"

"No, you're not." You hate how confident he sounds.

"You couldn't do it the first time, so how are you going to do it now? You still care for me, [Nickname]."

"Don't fucking call me that! You have no right to call me that!" My collar beeped, and I let out a deep breath.

"And as for caring, I don't."

"But you do."

"No, I don't."

He gave me that sickly sweet smile that could make your heart melt, but I wasn't falling for his tricks. I'm better than that, and I'm better than him.

"When I get out of here, you're dead. I have three months left in here, and when I'm free, ha, you'll have a sweet little bullet right between your skull."

"I'd like to see you try, dear." Oh, you'll see.

"You're fucking dead."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˚ ⋆⠀⠀⠀ィ⠀⠀⠀⠀after last night⠀⠀⠀ ࿐ ⠀⠀⠀

@crazycaoticsimp

@bunbunboysworld

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@lettucel0ver

@horror-lover-69

@mal-flores

@kultofkorii

@hebaoffside

@ichbswa

@simpingpandas

@smutty-littleslut

@viilan

@pix-stuff

@thecloudsaremyhome

@ilovemyhusbandnanami

@meganhaxaxa200

@goodsoup19

@onceinamillionposter

@pocketfulofposies

@fleursdeau

@time-shardz

[ysrjune]

please i am begging for a teen dad! scott barringer x gf!reader where they go to the farmers market or something when their baby is still a toddler like 1 1/2 and just some super cute fluff with scott holding the baby and just adorable moments in general please 🙏

I've never been to a farmers market, so I chose the grocery store ANDD added other scenarios for u. Enjoy 💜

You insisted that your boyfriend just take the baby carrier with you guys inside the store, but he wasn't for it. "I can hold him. Plus, there's a seat meant for kids on the carts, so if I get tired, I'll just put him in there." Scott tells you.

Thank God that you had made a list of what you needed. Neither of you could remember from the top of the head what was missing back at home. "Milk, cereal, fruit.." You side eye Scott as you're about to read the next thing listed. "4 bags of goldfish?"

Scott looks at you and nods. "Who put that ther-Was it you??" He raises his eyebrow at the baby boy. The baby covers his mouth with his small chubby hand and then shoves it in there. "Yeah, Leo did it." Scott tsks and looks back at you. "Little trouble maker already, aren't you?" He removes the baby's hand from his mouth. "Don't do that. That's disgusting." Scott sighs and pulls a napkin from his hoodie pocket and wipes off the drool.

You roll your eyes and cross out the goldfish. Maybe one bag was okay, but you needed to stick to the actual list.

At your parents' house, there was no room for you and the baby, but luckily, Scott's house was way big enough. 2 stories and had a guest room that they turned into a nursery. You switched to online school during the middle of your pregnancy, and to 'pay back' your in-laws, you cooked and cleaned around the house while they were at work and Scott was at school.

Scott had Leo in the cart seat, pushing the cart as he followed you around. He was talking to the baby about how he was gonna switch schools next month.

"That school I'm enrolling in after winter break is supposed to help me graduate faster if I have enough credits." He tells the baby. "And it's allll because of you. Thanks a lot, pal." He grins and plays with the babies hair. He ran into the back of your ankles a few times, and everytime, he blamed Leo. "He was distracting me, babe. Honest!"

He ended up just carrying Leo the rest of the time as he helped you shop. "Oh, we need bacon and chicken legs. Can you make those again? The legs? Like, fried but not with flour? It's really good. I like it." Scott was daydreaming about what you would make for dinner the next week. He thinks your cooking is so good. Before you moved in, he had to deal with his mom's weekly spaghetti, un-well seasoned porkchops, and whatever frozen food was in the freezer.

"Your brother is so cute!" The cashier lady tells Scott with a sweet smile. He knew she meant well, but it still bothered him. Hell, it bothered him being a dad. A teen-dad at that, but it was all worth it because he loves you and Leo. Even if it's hard here and then. "Thanks," Scott mutters and takes his dad's card out of his wallet to pay. Yes, his dad pays.. it's groceries.

—

When Leo was 5 and actually able to talk, Scott's life got even better. He could actually have a whole conversation with him now, even if Leo was sort of.. annoying sometimes.

"Daddy," Leo rubs his eye with one hand, standing in front of the TV. "Yeah, buddy, what's up?" Scott asks, moving his head around to catch an angle of the TV where he could see the whole screen while his son was in front of it. "Hey man, you mind moving really quick, please? I'm watching the game." Scott says, still trying to catch that angle.

"Daddy, you know I watch the kangaroo song after I nap." Leo pouts. "Yeah Leo, I know that, but look, we can watch it after daddy watches the game, okay? This is a really good game so far and I really wanna-" "Kangaroo song. Kangaroo song, Kangaroo song," Leo says while jumping up and down. "KANGAROO SONG!" Leo yells. "ALRIGHT!!" Scott yells back in frustration. It doesn't scare the boy, though. He just laughs.

Scott groaned and went to go fetch the dvd for it and then inserted it into the dvd player. "Ya little brat." He rolls his eyes, flopping on the floor, listening to the damn Kangaroo song. He hated it so much, but if Leo didn't hear it after his naps, he'd get into a mood. Worse than Scott's.

Leo was hopping around to the song with a big smile on his face, singing along. Scott knew Leo was gonna replay it over and over again, so he turned to his side and decided to tune it out and take a nap. It was finally summer, and he thought that it'd be a chill one, but no. You were either out with your friends or parents (which was well deserved since you always took care of Leo while Scott was busy with school, football, and going out when appropriate) And Scott was here dealing with the 5 year old.

—

It was finally Scott's 21st birthday, and his parents threw him a surprise party after coming back from running stupid unnecessary errands all day. "No way, you guys did all this?" Scott smiles and hugs you, his mom and then his dad. "We did. Your dad just bought the stuff." His mom laughs. "Happy birthday, honey." She smiles and kisses his cheek.

Obviously, there was alcohol, music, dancing, drinking games, friends and family.. and kids. The backyard was really big, so there were activities out there for them. A bouncy house, toys and playhouse, swings, and everything kids like.

After running around for a while, Leo came back thirsty. The first thing he saw on the table where you and Scott were sitting was a cup half filled with an amber liquid. In Leo's mind, it was apple juice. You both didn't register your son reaching for the cup, too engaged in a conversation with a few friends from highschool. Once you heard a gag and noticed the cup drop to the floor, you looked at who dropped it. "LEO! What're you doing!" Scott reaches for his crying son.

"Leo, what were you thinking?!" You open a water bottle and give it to him. "I'm sorry mama, I thought it was juice!!" He cries, thinking he was going to be spanked. Upon hearing that, Scott starts to laugh. "Juice? Dude, you're totally insane." He keeps laughing and now stroking the boys head. "It's okay, you made a mistake. The juices are in the cooler over there. Go get one." Scott says, calming the boy down while also pointing to the blue cooler.

"I'm sorry daddy." Leo apologizes again. "It's okay, buddy." Scott replies and kisses the boys forehead. "Go play around for a little while before it's time for bed." He takes him off of his lap and gently pushes Leo to go over to play

"That was hilarious." Scott begins to laugh again. "Poor baby. He was so scared." You frown, now watching how Leo was drinking a caprisun and walking over to his cousins and friends. "He'll forget about it in an hour." Scott shrugs and holds onto your thigh. "Trust me he's gonna be okay."

—

Leo has an obsession with dinosaurs and gorillas. Like, he watches every movie he can that has them. So ofcourse his favorite movies are Ice Age: Dawn of the dinosaurs, and Tarzan. Scott actually likes Tarzan. He thinks it's sort of stupid, but either way, his eyes are always glued to the screen. His favorite character is Tantar.

His favorite in Ice Age is Buck and Rudy. He thinks Rudy is so badass. Well.. he likes all of them, actually. Especially Crash and Eddie. Again—they're so stupid, but he can't take his eyes off the TV.

Leo liked Tarzan so much that he always asked you or Scott to sing him the lullaby that the mom sang to Tarzan at the beginning. It put him right to sleep, so your answer was always yes when he wanted you to sing it to him. Scott never let you around when he'd sing. It was only for Leo's ears.

—

• Scott has a photo of you holding Leo in the hospital in his wallet.

• Leo is a perfect mix of you and Scott.

• Leo is such a sweetheart. He's very nice but he can also be a handful sometimes.

• Scott carries Leo around all the time or holds his hand.

• Leo is such a mommas boy, but he loves his daddy too.

—

When Leo was born, Scott held him in the corner of the room while you were asleep. He was in a chair, a blanket on his lap. Leo was staring at his dad through half lidded eyes. "I can't believe this." Scott thinks to himself. "I'm a dad. A 16 year old dad in 10th grade. Should've used a condom."

He admired the way the baby looked so soft and warm (he was) and felt his heart ache when Leo would yawn or begin to let out small whines. Scott wasn't the best at knowing what to do right off the bat, so he just assumed that Leo wanted to be rocked. It worked, thankfully.

—

People at your school knew you were pregnant and they knew who the dad was, but when you stopped coming to school, they sort of forgot about it until they tried to stalk yours and Scott's social media for updates. The only thing they saw was Scott's profile picture which was you and him at your baby shower.

He keeps things private. He doesn't even really talk about it with his friends unless they ask, and even then, he keeps it simple and short. He gets stares all the time around campus when somehow everyone found out that you had given birth. Must've been one of his 'friends' that said something. It was really annoying because even the teachers knew.

"So how's the baby?" Mr. Justin asks in front of the whole class one day. Scott looks up from his lab table and shrugs. "He's good."

"Oh, so it's a boy? What's his name?"

Scott wanted to roll his eyes so bad but he kept himself from it. "Leonardo." He says, not loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear. But the teacher repeated it. "Leonardo Barringer. Cool." The man nods. "How's dad life treating you?"

"I like it." Scott shrugs.

"You take care of the baby?" Anorher damn question? When will this guy shut up?!

Scott decided to lie because he didn't want everyone to know his business. "No, I go over to my girlfriends house during the day and then she takes care of him at night and I go home."

"Makes sense since she's the mom." Mr. Justin nods. "Well, you're lucky you don't have to wake up to a crying baby all the time." He chuckles and goes back to the lesson.

Scott could feel everyone staring, but he just kept writing notes in his notebook. He knew they were judging, but he didn't care because what he said wasn't true.

big daddy reference lol also sorry I couldn't think of anything else is like 2am rn and I'm getting sleepy

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @alexlovesysrjune @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far

[lecoindecachou]

Okay, that's a lot of words to say a lot of shit but let me try my hand at this.

First of all, I do not think you understand what "colonizer" means, no matter how smug you're feeling about it. A colony is an extension of state power. America was a British colony. The Levant was colonized by Muhammad (hey, if you wanna say some things today would be considered ethnic cleansing, then I'll use 'colonize' instead of 'conquered.' Seems only fair, right?). West Bank settlers today are absolutely colonizers (and terrorists). But which state power were Jewish refugees and immigrants representing exactly...?

Secondly, what exactly do you think was 'colonized' in 1948, a people or a country? Because if it's a country... which one? There was no Palestinian state in 1948. "Palestine" last existed in 640CE. The province name itself was made up by the Romans as part of their ethnic cleansing of Judea, which was the last time there was an independent country there until modern Israel. Is your dumb ass sitting here trying to claim that the Jews colonized... the Ottoman empire?

If you think what was colonized was a people... Well, again, which people? Israelis are natives too. Among the local populations (aka those who lived in the region before the 19th century) the Druze, Christians, Jews and Bedouin have all made it clear since 1948 that they aren't Palestinian, don't want to live in a Palestinian state, and crucially, Palestine can't make them. Trying to demand they leave or be forced into it, so you can have an Arab-Muslim state in a region that was never totally Arab or Muslim, is completely unreasonable.

(And that's without even mentioning that Mizrahi Jews, who're >60% of all the people living in Israel today, have been ethnically cleansed from everywhere else in the MENA. They were stateless refugees for a while until they were able to get citizenship in Israel. It was their only choice.)

"You do not see the Navajo nation saying “we must establish a Navajo Nation on Navajo land” or Choctaw, Cree, Illini, or hundreds of others native nations. The land back movement is about ceding the idea of unilateral American control over land practices in order to work with the communities that live in the area and many time have heritage working and caring for the land."

Okay, well first of all I think we all know that if they did say that the US would consider it a declaration of war so yeah maybe they don't say that, you're right. But what you seem to fail to realize is that in this imperfect analogy America is literally the Ottoman Empire before it collapsed. Right now it's strong and impossible to dismantle, but all empires fall eventually and when this one does, are you implying that this wouldn't be the perfect opportunity for Native Americans to quite literally take the land back? Are you genuinely claiming they wouldn't want to? Do you think it would be wrong or immoral for them to seize that opportunity?

Based on your inane comparison to German-Americans, you also seem to be under the impression that Jewish refugees came to the Levant with an army to conquer the place or something, when the reality is that overseas Jews returned to their ancestral land to join existing Jewish communities in the Levant. They bought mostly unwanted land from local Arabs. This refers to malaria-infested swamps and desert.

Others bought Arab land from absentee landlords, who before this allowed Arabs to work the land and live on it i.e they were renting. When a landlord sells a property and there are renters living in it, obviously the tenants have to move out. Arabs complained and rioted, the British decided to block Jewish refugees and immigrants. Arabs committed pogroms against local Jewish communities and Jews kept immigrating illegally, which lately leftists seemed to be in favor of but consistency is not really your forte so who knows. From 1830 to 1948, these repeated massacres aimed to expel the Jews from the Levant, dissuade European refugees from seeking sanctuary there, and thwart the establishment of a "Homeland for the Jewish people" (NOT a state, the idea of an official Israeli state wasn't brought up anywhere in the Balfour Declaration of 1917 and Palestinian Arab leaders were even offered the chance to limit Jewish immigration in the White Paper of 1939 but rejected it) through extreme violence. All that resulted in the formation of Jewish militias to defend their own community, which resulted in Arabs losing.

See, people talk about this conflict being a result of 70 years of 'colonization' without also taking into account the continual Jewish history in the region where they also faced pogrom style group killing and being driven from their home countries throughout the Middle East and Europe. If you think this started in 1948 then you are either ignorant, hypocritical, or both. It was getting dangerous for Jews in the region for decades leading up to the creation of Israel. Much of the Middle East was becoming more dangerous for religious minorities like Jews, Christians, and Baha'i from the late 19th century onwards. There would have been conflicts when the Ottoman Empire inevitably collapsed even if it hadn't been partitioned. It had been decaying for a couple centuries and was called 'the sick man of Europe' for a reason, being propped up by western powers.

I would actually argue that Israel is unique, since it is quite literally the only Jewish state. Jewish indigeneity to the Levant is, like, the one fact that is universally acknowledged to be true so I'm not even going to bother arguing it. As always it is one thing to say that Jewish immigration in the 19th and early 20th century displaced Muslims living in the region and an another thing entirely to just fully outright deny the history of the region, the history of Jewish suffering and the Jewish connection to the land.

At the end of the day, there are only 15 million Jews in the entire world (one billion and a half Muslims, just for comparison) and half of them live in Israel, some by choice, more than half by necessity.

The Likud-led Israeli coalition wants to annex Gaza and expel Palestinians, and Hamas wants Jerusalem and other lands once colonized by Mohammad (sorry, 'conquered') fully in control by Muslims, with Jews either in Dhimmi status or dead. They're both the legitimate governments wielding the instruments of national power, and both fucking suck and should be criticized, but interestingly I don't see leftists protesting Hamas much or at all.

The two-state solution is the ONLY solution that doesn't result in millions of people dead, it is the ONLY solution that doesn't force millions of native people and refugees into exile on either side of the isle, it is the ONLY moral solution.

Believing that Israel has a right to exist as a Jewish state on Jewish land and supporting the Israeli people and their right to live safely in their homes is not the same thing as supporting every action of the Israeli government and/or military. This is not a difficult concept and I certainly don’t need to constantly explain or justify myself to every random anon demanding one who hasn’t figured out yet that the real world operates on a level beyond “This Side = Good vs. That Side = Evil.” It’s not a game or a fandom or a superhero movie. This is real life. It’s messy and complicated and endlessly hard to fathom.

[elliesglock]

AMARI LIVE ANALYSIS

okay hey bitches. again redoing my analyses so today we're doing on of my ogs. THE amari live. now this live is packed with details that are not super visible but if you pay attention you'll get rewarded. a lot of anons have asked me to put time stamps in my analyses so i shall from now on.

live begins and we see the arrangement of the beds. ice and ines on the bed, amari on the floor in front of the bed, and paige/azzi laying on the second bed. i wanna start off this analysis with one of my more delusional theories. lemme preface and say i have no idea who's room this was but in my head it was either p or azzi's. why do i believe this? in the beginning in the back you can say azzi's under the covers with her bonnet on. and in azzi universe that's bed time wear. she looks completely relaxed and it seems that she's obviously sharing this room with someone else. it could be paige's as well but either way azzi looks comfortable like as soon as they leave and end this live she'll STAY in that bed and probably not sleep 👀. either her and paige are gonna cuddle because they're already in that mode in this live or they're gonna spend some more time off camera before they have to go to their own rooms. just a little theory of mine, i'll prob come back to this a few times when i'm mentioning things that could prove this.

this whole live you can kinda tell azzi's still in that sleepy mode and every time p yells she looks way closer to a meltdown. not that dramatic but she looks so over it at times. which i get because this whole live paige is up and down, yelling, screaming acting like an ipad kid over lebron. and amari WILL not stop being messy with the comments which azzi is listening to and really not fucking w. at 5:53 we see paige yelling and screaming as usual, but when she goes back to the bed she's facing azzi and almost looking like she wants to lay on her. and she kinda does for a second imo. azzi prob gave her a face after she was yelling and she decided to calm down and cuddle her to say sorry for a second. the way her body language is when she sits down is almost like she's checking up on azzi cause her WHOLE body is turned to her when she sits down and her eyes are on her. usually turning your body towards someone shows a preoccupation with them. and when she lays down her leg comes up and her hips shift almost like she's rolling or laying on azzi 🥀. i'm so sorry girl ik that hurts. and lemme just say before i blow up the way they are acting this whole live is so coupley and IM OBSESSED. azzi getting annoyed, p being touchy as a sorry, paige rolling and laying all over her knowing she'd get yelled at if they weren't on camera. it's so coupley. during this time, amari's ass is so messy and reads out a comment that says "amari has a bf and paige has a gf." and i like to acknowledge ice because she can't hide her face and unfortunately becomes evidence all the time for pazzi nation. she very quickly goes "PAIGE DOESMT HAVE A GF" not even acknowledging the amari part. now it's hard to differentiate if it's because she sees a couple in front of her and paige's girlfriend and guiltily tries to lie terribly by just blurting that out, or if paige and azzi aren't together yet and she don't want anything to be started saying that...me personally i don't think pazzi were every acting different with or without the labels. so the second theory kinda doesn't matter to me. pazzi has always acted like a couple even when they weren't together, that was their problem. they were invested and from first glance had intimate tendencies while not being together. idk it's whatever yall wanna think about it i would love to hear your opinions. to me ice sounds really guilty and like she's trying to hide something. after this 6:11 p starts talking to az really softly for a moment and it might be her checking up on her again. that's how i feel. i feel like she's focused on her and talking to her to keep an eye. we know p's very perceptive to azzi and also protective.

also during this ice and amari but seem tense and start watching the camera, most likely because p and a are doing something in the back. 6:43 paige and azzi aren't involved in the convo between ice and ines, they're having their own convo most likely little spat. paige goes "azzi....are you serious? we can't do that." paige reveals that azzi wants her to play a game after ice kinda starts staring at them. it's such a cute thing to argue about. azzi wants to play with her girl and paige is like babe but lebron's on. 7:00-7:05 it seems like paige calms down and goes back to being occupied with azzi during the commercial breaks because as soon as the game comes back on she jumps from the bed and tells everyone to lock in. jus so domestic that when she's not watching she just wanna lay and talk to her girl. even though her girl wants her to play a game during lebron's legacy game. now if paige didn't wanna look nonchalant for the camera she'd DEF fold and play with az. who can resist? 7:22 now why tf this girl go back to azzi and kinda look like she sits on top

of her and starts teasing her. paige sorta starts cooing at her and almost sounds like she says "she so cuteeeee" maybe making fun of her pouting, and azzi responds "don't laugh at me" in a VERY pouty voice so idk the streets are saying p was smiling and teasing az for being pouty. idk how to describe it but p seems like teasy flirty in this live. i wanna say dom but im not trying to get sniped so teasy flirty it is. her energy gives she wants to squeeze azzi's cheeks and make fun of her for how cute she is. she acts like this when she gets back to the bed and it almost seems like she leans down in azzi's face and teases her some more. maybe azzi is still pouty but gets blushy? u can hear a little smile in azzi's voice. 7:25 ice clocks it and looks over probably seeing pazzi being cuddly and close to one another. so when amari looks back, ice looks at her as a sort of warning. therefore, amari shifts herself so she's covering pazzi. that just tells me they looked close enough to almost kissing each other or they were being flirty and ice wanted to make sure they were covered from cameras view. paige eventually locks back in and goes back to watching but i find it so cute she was obv very invested in the game but MUCH MORE invested in her girl at the end of the day. ice is still a little nervous obv because anytime paige moves she looks back to make sure she doesn't have to signal amari again. ice i can read ur mind pookie.

8:53 azzi says move! she's so over her but that's her girl and she's gonna stick beside her. guess all those apology cuddles from p went out the door the minute p stood back up cause paige doesn't even care anymore 🥀. 10:53 azzi says shush i'm trying to hearwhen p is talking. at times like this i feel like azzi is the only one who can talk to p like this cause ive never seen p BE QUIET when she's told to be quiet. like she don't even listen to geno but by god she's going to listen to her girl. mouth shuts too quick and ines almost seems like she wants to laugh at her parents. paige looks like a kicked puppy and keeps looking back at azzi afterwards. she's like bae you always let me yap whatttt 💔. but azzi is just princess to everyone cause she says be quiet EVERYBODY quiets down oooo that's a bad bitch. paige knows she got a baddie too cause she always listens to az. somebody in the comment says "yall afraid of azzi? nobody even on that bed with her..." which is so true because not even clingy ass PAIGE is with her so she knew her girl meant business. (16:14) amari is talking about the comments and saying how when azzi said shut up they all did. and paige pipes up (cause she's also the only one allowed to do this) and says because of lebron not because of azzi! u sure about that twin? ur voice is shaking a bit. also she was screaming when lebron was on so YES obv you shut up because of azzi u damn liar. final moment, we get the legendary moment where amari is being messy AGAIN (this is becoming a theme) where she reads and says "Paige someone is going to take you out to breakfast" and azzi is over ittttttttt. she said take my girl where??? she says "better not" in this tone that can be so easily spotted as jealousy. she genuinely is not fucking w the idea of someone having dates or wanting her girl at all. jealous azzi agenda come home we miss you in this drought. she's gotten more subtle with her menacy behavior but she will NOT allow anyone to hit on paige and ive always felt if someone tried to hit on her she'd be blunt asf and say that's my girlfriend btw.

kinda not edited at all sorry guys i'll go back and edit it. but it's longer than my original, happy reading! lmk your thoughts

[lucabyte]

I dunno if you’ve seen what’s in the isat artbook yet but there’s a mention in there of id5’s support of she/her Loop which made me think of that great post you made a while ago on Loop gender!!! Just thought I’d let ya know since that post was absolutely foundational to my personal Loop thoughts lol!

ok goofs aside lol hi. first of all: really funny that more than one of you thought of me for this. my powers. and second of all: okay ill actually give my thoughts.

alright so for the uninitiated (THIS POST) (+bonus link to it with extra additions i like) is what these two anons are talking about. It's about 8k words on my like, puzzled-out hard textual read of what i think is up with Siffrin/Loop's gender.

So, re: the artbook content (READMORE ON ACCOUNT OF ME GETTING LONGWINDED AGAIN)

The relevant passages here are pages 113, 38 and 39 (with a sidebar i want to bring up on 89).

I'm going to crop it down to only what is necessary to get to my point because adrienne doesn't want big chunks or full pages posting, so here's my little collage.

113: The page is primarily about finding ways to disguise Loop's true identity, and that's what most of the visuals on the page are about. The note I've cropped [Loop using she/her...] is on the most siffrin looking of these images, just being them sans cloak, eyepatch and hat.

This, to me, reads like the intent at the time was what eventually evolved into Loop's "Royal We" joke misdirect and their they/them only status. Consideration of, 'would just showing off a character nigh identical to sif but with "opposite" pronouns be enough to throw people off the trail?' that I would imagine evolved into just dropping the he/him, since that's more than enough to do so when you also change their appearence to be more ethereal.

*But* ArtbookCommentary!Adrienne is the one saying "She/her Loop is an incredible idea." owing to some level of affinity toward the concept in retrospect. Lends it some creator-branded 'cool points', which aren't worth *much* in terms of Quality of Textual Evidence, but certainly lends it points against being a *bad* read.

So I read this as like, while on it's own, not much more than conjecture when it comes to supporting the idea of transfemme loop-- I think as another arrow in the overall quiver it strengthens that idea that Siffrin is sticking by their he/hims as a like... side effect of how he was born/raised and sees change as something they can't do. It's less a point in support, and more a point *against* it being wrong. (It's like how in science you try to falsify things in order to prove them, y'know? Evidence *against* it being false is different to evidence *for* it being true, but it's almost better that way, sometimes??) Speaks to the idea that Loop would see those pronouns as a Disguise in some way, which to me, when paired with pages 38-39 and the dress* gives the implication that femininity is an untapped well for them. That it's new, and not something they'd do without a plausibly deniable excuse. Which continues to feed into my readings of Siffrin being amab and uncomfortable with change, even if (especially if) they want it in some way. It kind of has to be forced onto them to allow them to try it, because then it's not their choice, now is it?

*The dress is absolutely in reference to the prologue line, isn't it? it being grafted to their skin unlike the other considerations for clothes shown on the page too, aligns with this idea of Loop's body being informed by their wants/feelings about themselves in some way (distinctly inhuman, no need to eat, no need to smile anymore, yet still blind). But where canon!loop has no gendered traits to hold them down anymore, dress!loop would be more of a giveaway of their desires to at least express *some* femininity. (See: my prior essay for further thoughts on how i think that manifests, and my thoughts on it being a somewhat doylist read of the game's themes that i stand by)

(god buddy. you get deeper into the timeloop and it makes you . forget everything . about fucking everything . but the want that bubbles to the surface harder is this? loop. christ im repeating myself again go read my previously linked essay if you arent these two anons i go into way more detail.)

BUT YEAH. yeah.

I think it's a stretch to say things that aren't literally in game, and are still at most discarded exploration of character really count as Evidence for in-game reads, as they are paratext at best-- But. buttttttt buttttttt they do offer a good insight into the intent with which some things were most likely approached. like i say, it's not evidence /for/ my theory, just evidence /against/ me being on the wrong track. But yes i do feel pretty vindicated that this aligns so well with my amab nb siffrin/transfem loop trutherism. Which makes sense, given that the Whole Point of that read was to try and sleuth out the authorial intent, rather than anything else.

Like, i was following a framework in specific of (posts wikipedia screenshot for 'authorial intent')

as opposed to the equally valid Reader-Response framework (under which death of the author also falls)

which is why in that thing i stress so hard that i'm trying to abstain from my own bias (whether or not i succeed? idk. i do break my own rule for a second when pointing out how hard siffrin's fear of change resembles transfem repression in specific as i relate it to my friends and wider observations). but yeah. it was very nice that the artbook aligned so nicely since pairing my readings against the author's own literal words was always going to be the Ultimate Test™ for an authorial-intent based reading.

... oh ! and the sidebar i said i'd have.

Page 89:

get forcibly changed idiot. fucking themes lol (this was also vindicating as a 'loop stays as a star' truther which is something i tie into my themes of gender/sif not accepting change until its forced upon them. but it's not the mostest relevant to the convo without that context. but whee!)

[littlebluebird2000]

Twirling Hearts- part 4

pairing: yeon si-eun x reader (female reader)

rating: 18+

genre: romance, smut

warnings: overprotective sieun, school bullying, discussion about food and weight, violence, harassment, smut, mature language, sexual harassment/assault, slow-burn, jealousy, baku always being at the scene of the crime...

summary: Who would've thought that a ballerina and the school's most feared nerd would complete each other so well? Being the new student was never easy-especially not when you were the only girl transferring into an all-boys school. To make matters worse, Eunjang High has a reputation for having its fair share of troublemakers. Some of the rumors were enough to make anyone second-guess stepping through those front gates...

author's note: this chapter contains sexual content. if you are not comfortable with that, it's okay, i'll see you in the next story. the smut is contained to the very last part of this chapter, just to warn y’all.

word count: 10k+ ( i knnnoowwww)

follow #bluebirdyeonsieun for updates on the story. for some reason, my tags aren't working :

part: 1., 2., 3., 4., 5.

Eunjang’s first morning bell echoes dully through the hallway, warning students to start heading to class.

Sieun sits at his desk, slouched but focused, one hand twirling a pen between his fingers. He looks half-asleep, but his notebook is already open, his handwriting precise. He’s not smiling, but there’s a quiet stillness to him—like something heavy inside him has finally shifted, even just a little. The classroom door bangs open.

“Morning, lover boy.” Baku announces as he walks in.

Gotak trails behind him, dragging his feet with a yawn, and Juntae walks in last, eyes scanning the room before flickering over to Sieun—then away quickly, as if pretending he didn’t look at all.

Sieun doesn’t glance up.

Baku slides into the seat beside him and leans in with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. “Slept well this weekend, huh?”

Sieun tenses. His pen stops spinning.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He mutters, eyes on his notebook.

Baku whistles low, teasing. “Right, right. I must’ve imagined you not answering your phone for two whole days!”

Gotak flops into his seat. “You spent the whole weekend at her place?”

Sieun doesn’t answer right away. He can feel their eyes on him, expectant. He exhales through his nose—quiet, controlled, but clearly annoyed—then gives a small nod, just enough to make them stop asking.

Juntae shifts in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. “We didn’t expect it, but… good for you. You deserve to be happy.” His voice is quieter, awkward but sincere. He offers a small smile, eyes flicking to Sieun and back to his desk like he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it.

Baku smacks Gotak lightly on the arm. “See? What did I say? You two are clueless.”

Gotak frowns. “I didn’t think it was that serious.”

“You didn’t think, period,” Baku shoots back, grinning. “I’m the only one here with a brain. I knew something was going on.”

Juntae scratches at his temple, half-smiling. “Yeah, okay. You were right.”

“You should’ve seen the way he looked at her after the recital. Man was done for.”

Sieun kept his eyes on his notebook, continuing writing. “Are you finished?”

Baku grins wider. “What? I’m just happy for you.”

Sieun exhales through his nose, leaning back in his chair. The usual apathy lingers in his expression, but something softer slips through—just for a second. He knows Baku’s an idiot…But he also knows Baku means well.

The silence barely lasts a beat before Baku leaned in, voice low but playful.

“So… what’d you two do all weekend?” he asks, grinning. “Just stayed in? Don’t tell me you didn’t even leave the apartment.”

Sieun finally looks up. His eyes meet Baku’s. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s a flicker of irritation in his gaze. Not enough to bite. Just a warning.

Baku’s eyebrows lift. “Wait—seriously? You stayed in the whole time?”

Gotak turns around again, curious. “Not even to grab food or something?”

Sieun exhales through his nose. “It was raining.”

Baku leans back in his chair dramatically, hands on his mouth. “It was raining, he says! So you just stayed holed up in there, all cozy and domestic? Unbelievable.”

Juntae smiled quietly. “Kinda sounds nice, actually.”

Baku ignored him. All his attention was on Sieun. “And here I thought you’d be all stiff and awkward, sitting on the floor five feet away from her like some kind of monk.” Sieun didn’t take the bait, but his eyes narrowed just slightly.

Baku’s grin sharpens. “You weren’t, huh?”

Sieun let out a quiet breath, clearly done with the conversation. “Stop talking. You’re too loud.”

Baku snorts. “And you’re suspiciously quiet. Which tells me everything.”

Sieun says nothing, but the slight pink at the tips of his ears doesn’t go unnoticed. Before Baku can comment, Mr. Yoon steps in the classroom, dropping a stack of papers onto the front desk. “Settle down.” He says, not looking up as he adjusts his glasses. “Take out your homework. If you didn’t do it, don’t waste my time with excuses.”

Chairs scrape and groans ripple through the room. Baku took his usual place in the back of the class, just across Sieun, a smile of amusement still on his face. The classroom buzzed with faint background noise—rustling pages, low whispers, the dull scrape of a chair leg dragged half an inch too far.

The class moved around him. Gotak was stretching until his chair creaked, Baku was half-asleep with his chin in his hand and Juntae was flipping his eraser between his fingers. Sieun’s pen moved steadily across his notebook. No pause, no wasted motion. His handwriting was tidy, spaced just right. He didn’t need to think about it. Before he knew it, first period was over. The bell rang, sharp and familiar. Mr. Yoon capped his marker mid-sentence, muttered something about finishing the equation next time, and walked out to get his second cup of coffee.

Students stretched and shifted, the atmosphere loosening like a breath held too long. Notebooks shut with soft thuds. A few laughed. Someone played music too loud for three seconds before being told to turn it off.

There was a ten-minute break between classes. It was enough time to stretch, go to the bathroom, talk or sleep. You usually arrived during this break. You would always slipped in before the bell rang, quiet and breathless, but on time.

He glanced at the door out of habit. Empty. Not strange. Not yet. Five minutes passed.

Sieun opened his phone. Not to text. Just to check.

Nothing.

Around him, the room stirred lazily. Baku was talking too loudly in the corner, throwing jokes at anyone who’d listen. Gotak was chewing something crunchy, and Juntae was scrolling through his feed.

Sieun looked at the door again. Seven minutes. Still no sign of her.

He leaned back slightly in his chair. Not tense. Not relaxed. Just waiting. Maybe she was running late. Maybe she forgot something. He checked his phone again.

No messages.

His fingers hovered over the screen before he locked it again, jaw tightening for a brief moment. Nine minutes.

His gaze hadn’t left the doorway in a while now. The voices around him faded into background noise. He wasn’t listening.

Then the second bell rang.

He found himself looking at her empty seat, then his gaze flickered toward the door, just one last time. Sieun exhaled, slow and quiet, a barely perceptible shift in the tension of his posture. Something was off. She hadn’t come.

Behind him, Baku’s voice broke through the quiet murmur of the class. “Where’s Y/N?” His tone was light, but there was a hint of concern in it.

“Yeah, she’s usually here by now.” Gotak frowned. “You think she’s sick or something?”

The silence stretched out, heavy and thick. Juntae glanced at Sieun again before looking away, his voice quieter than the others, almost as if he were thinking aloud. “Maybe… maybe she’s uncomfortable showing up today? With… well, you know…Maybe it’s just a lot?” There was no accusation in his voice. Just a gentle suggestion, like he didn’t want to believe it either.

Sieun’s jaw tightened, though he didn’t show any other outward reaction. He could feel the weight of Juntae’s words, the subtle reminder of the tension between him and you after everything that had happened. Could it be that you were avoiding him? The thought slipped into his mind, unwelcome but persistent. He immediately pushed it away, not allowing himself to dwell on it.

“Don’t jump to conclusions.” Sieun muttered, his tone flat, his eyes still fixed on the door. He couldn’t let the thought linger, not now. He knew you weren’t the type to just avoid things, avoid him. If you had a problem, you’d say it—or at least show it. And this morning, you had been completely normal. You had even kissed him goodbye…

“Y/N wouldn’t just ghost.” Baku said, backing him up. “Sieun’s right. She’s a bit late for one class and we’re acting all weird? Maybe her ballet teacher held her back? They probably had to go over the recital or something…She could’ve missed the bus.”

Before anyone could respond, Mr. Yoon walk back in, five minutes late himself, a new coffee in hand . “All right, quiet down. Let’s get started with math.” He said, out of breath. The class stirred reluctantly back to life. Chairs shifted, textbooks opened, and the murmur of voices fell into silence.

Sieun moved mechanically, flipping open his notebook, but his mind wasn’t on the lesson. He stared at the margin of the page as Mr. Yoon began writing on the board.

Ten minutes late. Then fifteen.

Around him, Baku, Gotak, and Juntae exchanged glances. They didn’t say anything, but he could feel it—the tension, the worry. It pressed against him from all sides. He could hear the lesson, the scribbling of pens, the clicking of keyboards, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.

No text. No message. Something was wrong.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

By lunch, the mood had shifted completely. Phones were out. Fingers scrolled. Tapped. Redialed. Again and again. Still nothing. No texts. No answers. No signs of life from you.

“She didn’t even open my messages.” Baku muttered, frowning at his screen.

Sieun sat silently at the edge of his chair, phone in hand, screen blank. He hadn’t said much, but it was clear he wasn’t just waiting anymore. He was calculating.

“She never skips school.” Juntae said softly. “She would have told one of us at least…” A long silence followed.

Then, quietly, Sieun stood. “I’m not staying here. The others looked up at him. “I’m going to her apartment.”

“I’m coming.” Baku said immediately, grabbing his bag.

“Me too.” Gotak added. Juntae stood up to follow.

The four of them walked out before the next bell, slipping through the gate like shadows. A bus ride later, they were climbing the familiar steps to your building. At the door to your unit, Baku gave a dry laugh, but it didn’t carry much humor. “Of course you have the passcode.” He said, nudging Sieun.

Sieun didn’t respond. He keyed in the numbers. The lock clicked and he opened the door. Inside, everything was still. The air felt untouched. A glass sat by the sink where you’d left it earlier. It looked exactly the same as when he’d left this morning. Sieun stepped in farther, scanning the room like something might leap out at him. His chest felt tight. “She didn’t come back to the apartment.” He said quietly. He pulled out his phone again, brows drawing close as he searched something quickly.

“Who are you calling?” Baku asked.

“The ballet academy.”

It rang twice before someone answered. A woman, polite, professional. “Hello? I’m calling to check… did Y/N attend class today?”

“Yes.” Came the reply, clear and certain. “She was here for morning practice. She left a while ago to go to school.” Sieun’s grip tightened around the phone.

“Thank you.” He said, then hung up.

He turned to the others, expression blank. They waited for an explanation. His voice colder than before. “She left ballet. She was on her way to school.” Sieun stood still, jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed.

Gotak rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe… maybe she stopped somewhere? Like a café? Or her phone died—”

“Then she’d be here by now.” Sieun cut in, his voice flat. “She’s not just late. She never made it.”

Juntae hovered near the doorway, his face pale. “Do you think something happened… on the way to school?”

“She wouldn’t just wander off.” Baku added. “Not without texting someone. Not after this weekend.”Everyone looked at Sieun. His hands had curled into fists at his sides.

“She was fine this morning,” He finally said to reassured their suspicion. “She kissed me goodbye. She was happy.” The room went quiet again.

Baku’s voice dropped. “So something must of happened…” Then—Baku’s phone buzzed in his pocket. A sharp, sudden vibration that broke the stillness. Everyone froze.

“Y/N?” Juntae asked quickly, almost too fast.

Baku stared down at his screen, heart stammering in his chest, but his expression dropped. “It’s… not her.” He said quietly. Sieun was already at his side. Two messages. From an unknown number.

[Unknown Number]: She’s with us. Don’t do anything stupid.

[Unknown Number]: If you come talk with us, we can make some arrangements.

Sieun was dead silent, his face unreadable. The rest of the boys stood frozen, waiting for someone to speak.

Then Baku exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. “…Shit. It’s the Union.”

Gotak looked stress. “The Union? I thought it might’ve been Hyoman or one of his guys.”

Baku shook his head. “Hyoman was in class all day. This is bigger. Way bigger.”

Sieun’s gaze sharpened. “What’s the Union and why would they want Y/N?”

“They don’t.” Baku said. “They want us. Eunjang.” He continued. “The Union is a network. It’s an organization made from three high schools around here: Yeoil, Hwayang, and Dalseong. Each school has its own leader, but the real boss is Na Baek-jin. He runs the whole thing.”

Sieun listened without interrupting. Not a single change in his face.

Baku stepped back, pacing once across the small living room, voice tight. “The Union’s been trying to pull us in for months—stealing from our guys, cornering us after school, starting fights.“

“They tried jumping Junseok last week.” Juntae muttered. “Took his phone and wallet.”

Baku nodded. “They’re organized. Real business-like. They do cons, sell stolen bikes, flip phones—whatever keeps the cash coming in. Baek-jin runs it like a company.”

Baku’s voice dropped, bitter now. “They tried to pull Eunjang in too. Again and again. But I said no. Every time. I’ve been the one keeping them out of our school.” He paused, his eyes darkening with guilt. “And that’s why they took Y/N.”

Sieun stiffened.

“She’s close to me. Friends with me. That makes her a target. They’re sending a message.”

Sieun’s gaze dropped to the phone again.

“Do you know where they’re holding her?”

“No,” Baku said. “They’ve got a few spots they use—abandoned buildings, storage places—but the headquarters? No one outside the Union knows.”

Sieun stood perfectly still. “Then, ask.”

Baku nodded, fingers flying over the screen. One short message:

[12:23]: Where?

Three seconds passed. Then four. The typing bubble appeared.

Sieun didn’t take his eyes off the screen.

[Unknown Number] : Bowling alley. Back entrance. 5pm. Come alone.”

Baku read it out loud, his voice heavy with frustration. “They’re at the bowling alley. They must be using it as a front to go under the radar. That’s probably where they saw us two weeks ago… We were in their territory without knowing…”

Sieun’s gaze remained cold, sharp. His mind was already moving, calculating the angles, thinking through every possibility. It was a public place. A cover for the Union’s operations. Risky, but smart. There’d be layers—lookouts, runners, maybe even fake employees. He wasn’t the best fighter—not by a long shot—but he was good at understanding people. Their weaknesses. Their routines. The patterns.

“They want me to go alone,” Baku muttered, jaw tight. “It’s obviously a setup.”

Sieun finally spoke, voice calm and steady. “Then don’t go alone.”

“They’ll be watching,” Baku said. “They’ll know.”

“They won’t know” Sieun replied simply.There was something unsettling about the way he said it. No fear. No hesitation. Just quiet conviction.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

The room was small, suffocating. Dimly lit by the flickering overhead light and the pale glow from the desk lamp, it looked more like a converted storage closet than an actual office. The air tasted like smoke and dust. A stained couch sagged against the wall, further there was a scratched-up metal desk.

You sat on the floor, tucked into the corner. Your knees were drawn to your chest, arms wrapped tight around them. Your weren’t tied up—but the presence in the room made it clear that running wasn’t an option.

The man in the orange jacket sat sprawled on the couch, one arm slung lazily over the backrest, a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers. Smoke curled through the air, mixing with the stale scent of old furniture and engine oil. He glanced at you from time to time, amusement flickering in his eyes like he thought this was funny. You had come to know that his name was Seongje. He was one of the guys that brought you here. He had the dragged you with that fake, mocking kindness.

At the desk sat another man. This one looked cleaner. His black hair was slicked back, not a strand out of place. He hadn’t said a word to you since they brought you in.

“You’re not much of a talker, huh?” The man on the sofa said, exhaling smoke toward the ceiling. “I figured ballerinas were supposed to be shy, but this is something else.”

You stare at the floor. You want to speak, maybe even scream, but your throat feels tight, like something’s wrapped around it.

“Aww,” Seongje smiled, leaning forward, flicking ash to the floor. “You’re cute.”

You flinched and you hated yourself for it.

His eyes return to you, and they’re darker now. “You know, it’s kind of sweet. The way you’re sitting there, quiet and shaking. Makes you look even smaller. Makes me want to see just how much noise you can make.”

“Enough.” Said the man behind the desk. His voice is quiet, but it cuts through the room like a knife. He’s colder than the others. More dangerous in a way you couldn’t explain. “She’s not here for your amusement. She’s here to make sure Baku listens.”

Seongje laughed, taking another drag from his cigarette. “Come on, Baekjin. I’m just trying to make her feel welcome.” He relaxed completely against the couch, leaning back with his held tilted back. His next words were low, as if he was speaking to himself: “I’ve always liked fragile girls. They break the prettiest.”

Baekjin finally moved. He opened a drawer, took something out—a phone—and placed it on the desk in front of him. “Five o’clock.” He says. “Let’s see what Baku decides.”

You press your forehead against your knees, trying to steady your breath. If he comes in without thinking…

Seongje’s voice slices through the air again, taunting. “Hope he hurries.” He said. “Wouldn’t want us getting bored while we wait.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from reacting. You’re scared—terrified—but you won’t let them see you break. Not yet.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

The neon sign flickers overhead, casting the entrance in a sickly red glow. Laughter echoes from inside, hollow and distant. A few teens loiter near the front doors, tossing glances at Baku like they recognize him—and know better than to say anything.

Behind him, Sieun is quiet. Still. But there’s something brewing under the surface. He’s been like this since they got the text. No questions, no hesitation. Just that calm, unreadable expression. The kind of calm that warns of a storm behind the eyes.

“There’s a side entrance. Loading zone. I saw it last time we were here.” He started, voice calm. “I’ll wait for you to get inside first. I’ll sneak in through that door after.”

Baku looks at Sieun now, more serious than he’s ever been. “You don’t have to do this, Sieun.”

Sieun keep his gaze forward. “I’m not walking away.” He adjusted his black cap.“You keep them looking at you. I’ll find her.”

“And if you can’t get her out?” Baku asked.

Sieun looked at him. His voice was quiet, steady. “I will.”

A few seconds passed in heavy silence before Baku spoke, his voice edged with bitterness.

“Baekjin and I used to be friends. Before he joined the Union. Before he started playing mob boss with high school kids.” He let out a quiet sigh. “I’ll try to talk to him first—see if there’s anything left of the guy I used to know. But if that doesn’t work…” His gaze hardened. “We fight.”

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

The music swells as Baku pushes through the doors. A few heads turn his way. Recognition flickers across the faces of nearby Union kids—some he remembers from past fights. Their eyes lock, but he doesn’t look away. He stands firm, unfazed. He heads straight for the hallway that leads to the back office, just like Sieun had described, over and over again during the past hour. He walk towards the door and turned the knob slowly and slipped inside. The door clicked shut behind him—and then, a familiar voice cut through the silence.

“Well, look who finally showed his face.” Seongje was slouched against the wall, spinning a butterfly knife between his fingers, the blade flashing in the dim light. Baku looked at him for a second, then his gaze went to the man who once was his best friend.

Baekjin sat behind a desk, legs crossed and sleeves rolled. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t smile. His gaze met Baku’s like they’d spoken yesterday.

“Didn’t expect you to come alone.” Baekjin says.

“You told me to.” Baku replies flatly. “Figured we could talk.”

Baekjin gives him a thin smile. “We always could.”

Baku scanned the office, his chest tightening with unease. “Where is she?” he demanded, voice low but urgent.

Seongje clicked the knife shut and shoved off the wall, walking a slow circle toward Baku. “Moved her somewhere else. She’s sweet, that girl.” He said with a smirk. “Bit too quiet, though.”

“She’s not part of this.” Baku said, jaw tightening. Gaze hard on Baekjin.

“She is now,” Baekjin said, settling back in his chair. “Because you made her part of it. You let her get close. That’s on you.”

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

Sieun moved through the dim corridor like a shadow, his steps light, his breath tight in his chest. The deeper he went, the more the sound of bowling pins and cheap arcade machines faded behind thick walls. Over the last two hours, he’d searched every public record he could find. Construction permits, outdated blueprints, utility schematics—until he found the layout of the bowling alley tucked away in the files of the old company that had built it over a decade ago. It showed everything.

The public lanes. The hidden stairwell near the loading dock. The walled-off section in the back that didn’t show up on Google Maps. Perfect for a gang like the Union to operate from. He passed a locked supply room. Then another door slightly ajar.

And that’s when he heard it.

A voice, cocky and cruel, echoing from around the corner. “ ‘Don’t touch me.’ ” A boy mocked in a falsetto, laughter following behind him. “She looked like she was gonna cry. Soft little girl.”

Sieun stopped dead in his tracks.

The Union kid—maybe sixteen, seventeen—walked past the hallway Sieun was hidden in, still laughing with his friend. “Boss said not to mess with her, but damn, the attitude on that girl…” Their footsteps faded.

He didn’t twitch. Didn’t breathe loud. But behind his cold, blank stare, his mind was racing fast and sharp. He continued on foward, slipping past a broken bench, down a hallway with metal doors…Until there was a noise.

He froze. It was faint. Fragile. A sound that didn’t belong here. A breath catching. A choked sob. The kind someone tries to swallow down before it escapes. It came from the third door on the right. Sieun stared at it, unmoving. That was you, and you were crying.

He knelt down and pulled the multitool from his pocket, breath shallow, hands steady. The lock was rusted—old, but stiff. It took longer than he liked.

Click.

He slipped inside, closing the door behind him. The light inside flickered, casting long shadows across the stained floor. You sat in the corner, knees to your chest, fingers gripping your sleeves, eyes squeezed shut as if you were trying to disappear.

“Y/N.” He said quietly.

Your head snapped up. “…Sieun?”

He nodded once, stepping toward you. For a second, you didn’t move. Then your body sagged just slightly with relief. He crouched in front of you, gaze intense. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I don’t think so.” You trembled.

He nodded in relief. He offered a hand, and you took it. “We have to move. Now.”

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

The air in the office was thick with tension. Baekjin lounged behind his desk, calm as ever, like he was hosting an old friend for drinks, not a confrontation over a kidnapped girl.

Baku stood across from him, unblinking. “I’m not doing anything until I see proof she’s safe.” Baku said flatly.

Baekjin gave a slow, practiced nod. “Fair. We’re civilized, after all.” He glanced to his right. “Seongje. Escort him,” Baekjin said smoothly. “Show him she’s unharmed.”

Seongje flicked his cigarette to the floor and crushed it beneath his boot. “With pleasure.”

The halls they walked through were dim, narrow. Seongje kept his hands in his pockets, sauntering ahead like he was guiding a tour. “So tense.” He drawled. “Still trying to play hero, huh?”

Baku didn’t answer.

Seongje chuckled. “You should’ve joined when Baekjin offered. You’d have a throne by now instead of babysitting punks at Eunjang.”

As they rounded a corner, a couple of Union members spotted them—then immediately veered away, pretending to be busy. Baku noticed. So did Seongje. The fear wasn’t just from Baku’s presence. It was him, too. Even the Union kept their distance from Seongje. The man was unhinged.

They reached a hallway lined with unmarked doors. Seongje pulled out a keyring, whistling under his breath as he stopped at one near the end.

“She’s in here.” He said lazily, unlocking it. The second he swung the door open, the grin vanished from his face.

The room was empty.

No sign of Y/N.

“What the—”

Seongje took one step into the room—and that’s when Baku struck. A clean elbow to the jaw. Seongje stumbled, stunned. Before he could react, Baku slammed the door shut and snatched the key from the lock, twisting it hard and locking Seongje inside.

“BAKU!”

The door shook as Seongje threw his full weight against it, but it held—at least for now.

Baku turned. Three Union members were rushing down the hall. They paused when they saw who it was. He didn’t hesitate. The first went down with a solid punch to the gut. The second tried to grab him from behind—he flipped him over his shoulder and slammed him into the wall. The third backed up, reconsidering his life choices. Baku didn’t stop. He stormed down the hall, fists ready, eyes sharp, pushing toward the exit before the entire Union realized what had happened.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

You followed close behind Sieun, your heart hammering in your chest. The hallway was dim, stretching endlessly in both directions. You’d barely said a word since he found you. There hadn’t been time.

Sieun moved with surprising precision—checking corners, listening for footsteps. His hand hovered near his pocket, gripping the multitool like a blade.

You watched him from behind. He looked calm. But that calm was the scariest thing you’d ever seen. Like something inside him had clicked into place.

“Did you come with Baku?” You whispered after what felt like an eternity.

“Yes.” Sieun replied without turning. “He’s distracting them. He’ll be okay.”

You two reached a junction where two hallways split. He paused and checked the wall. There was faded arrows scratched into metal:

MAIN FLOOR →

LOADING DOCK ←

Sieun pointed left. “That way. It’s a service exit. Less cameras.” You nodded and kept close, moving quickly, silently.

The hallway curved again, and finally—at the far end—they saw it. An old steel door, dented and rusted. A red EXIT sign buzzed faintly above it. Your knees nearly buckled with relief.

You picked up speed.

Then—

A voice behind you.

“HEY! STOP!”

Sieun didn’t turn around. He shoved the door open and yanking you out with him before slamming it shut. You were outside, but it wasn’t over. Not yet. The lot behind the alley lay empty. Sieun’s eyes darted left. “There. The fence.”

You both took off, feet pounding against the pavement. Sieun reached it first, hoisting himself up and over in one swift motion. He turned, arm outstretched. “Come on!” You grabbed his hand just as the heavy door behind you screeched open. Multiple voices shouted from the alley, but you were already over, landing hard on the other side.

Sieun didn’t let go of your hand as you both disappeared into the night.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

The cold air bit at your cheeks, but you didn’t feel it—not over the throb of your heart or the rush of blood in your ears. Your hand were still wrapped in Sieun’s, your legs still shaking from the sprint. Your breath came in short, panicked gasps.

Then— A low whistle.

Sieun froze. He shifted in front of you instinctively, his hand tightening around the multi-tool in his pocket.

“Over here.” Baku stood at the mouth of a narrow alley, chest rising hard with every breath, blood on his shirt, a dark bruise spreading along his jaw. He looked like he’d gone through hell. When his eyes landed on you, something in his face cracked open.

“Y/N.”

You rushed to him. He caught you without a word, arms closing around you in a tight, grounding hug. You just clung to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

You nod, even though you’re not sure. Your voice comes out hoarse. “I’m okay now.”

He doesn’t look convinced.

“I’m so sorry.” Baku whispered. His voice cracked. “This is my fault. You got dragged into this because of me.”

You shake your head. “No. Don’t do that.”

“Y/N—”

“It’s not your fault,” You said. “It’s not your responsibility how other people act.”

He looks at you for a long moment. Then he pulls you into another quick hug. “I’m just glad everyone’s okay.” You whispered firmly. When you step away, you return to Sieun’s side. He doesn’t say anything, but his presence steadies you. Just standing beside him makes it easier to breathe.

“We have to go.” Baku said already checking the corners. “Juntae and Gotak are waiting by the corner store. That’s our meetup point.”

“Gotak’s only calling the cops if we don’t show by the forty-five-minute mark.” He said. “It’s already been half an hour.” All three of you started jogging towards your usual meet up spot. Your lungs were on fire, but your mind wouldn’t stop spinning. The adrenaline’s thinning, leaving behind too many questions.

You glance at Baku as you slow just slightly beside him. “Why didn’t you guys call the cops from the beginning?” Baku doesn’t answer right away. He looks ahead, jaw tight, eyes tracking every shadow.

“What they did was illegal.” You said, your voice more brittle than you intended. “They kidnapped me.”

He exhales through his nose, sharp and bitter. “There’s someone over Baekjin.” He mutters, not looking at you. “Someone powerful. With money. Influence. The Union’s not just a gang—it’s a business. And the guy backing Baekjin knows how to keep it protected.”

The pieces click together slowly in your head. “So… even if you called…”

“There’s no guarantee the cops would’ve even shown up,” He says. “Not for us. Not for this.”

You don’t want to believe that. But the way he says it—it’s not anger. It’s experience.

“That’s why Gotak’s call was going to be about something else. Not the Union. A fake story. Something loud enough to get a patrol out without raising red flags.”

“But you didn’t know if it would work,” You whisper.

“No,” He says. “It might’ve backfired. They could’ve shown up late. Or worse—tipped someone off.”

You shiver. Not from the cold. Sieun glances back at you, just briefly.

Baku’s voice lowers again. “We couldn’t risk it. Not with you in there.” You nod, not because it makes you feel better—but because you understand now. This whole thing runs deeper than you thought.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

The small corner store glows under a flickering streetlight, its windows dark, shutters pulled halfway down. You spot them before they see you—two figures huddled near the alley wall behind it. Juntae is pacing. Gotak leans against the bricks, checking his phone.

Your group’s footsteps hit the alley gravel, soft at first, then louder as you draw closer. Gotak straightens immediately, snapping his head toward the sound. Juntae freezes mid-step. You see their shoulders tense, eyes wide. Then they see you. For a moment, there’s nothing. Just stunned silence.

“Oh my God,” Gotak mutters, stumbling forward with wide eyes. “You’re—holy shit, you’re here.”He runs both hands over his face and starts pacing again, this time out of pure adrenaline. “I thought you were dead. I thought—” He laughed breathlessly through the panic that hasn’t fully left his system. “I was this close to calling. This close.”

Juntae walks toward you slowly, almost cautiously. His eyes shimmer in the dim light, mouth opening like he wants to say something, but no words come out. Then he breaks. His shoulders shake, tears sliding down his cheeks before he can even pretend to stop them. “I thought we were too late.” He says, voice barely more than a whisper. “I thought they hurt you.”

Your chest twists. You step into his arms, pulling him close. “I’m okay.” You murmur. “We made it.”

Behind you, Sieun stands still—quiet and unreadable. His gaze is sharp, watching the ends of the alley like he’s expecting something to crawl out of the dark. He hasn’t relaxed, not even now.

“Ok. Let’s go.” Said Baku, glancing around as well. Your footsteps echoed softly, crunching over scattered gravel as the five of you moved in a tight formation—tense, alert, every shadow a possible threat. Gotak glanced over his shoulder every few seconds, nerves on edge. Juntae kept his gaze on you, as if afraid you might disappear if he blinked.

The bus stop is up ahead, dimly lit, empty. When the bus finally arrives, it hisses to a stop, the lights buzzing too bright against your tired eyes. You climb on in silence. There’s a long bench seat running across the rear, and without even needing to speak, you all settle there together, shoulder to shoulder. Baku squeezes in next to you, still quietly shaken. Gotak slumps on the other side of him, head tipped back against the window like it’s the only thing holding him up. Sieun takes the seat next to you while Juntae slides next him.

As the bus rolls deeper into the city, Baku finally breaks the silence. “We’re not splitting up tonight.”Everyone looks up. He turns slightly in his seat to face you. “You okay if we crash at your place?”

You nod before you’ve even fully thought about it. “Yeah. Please.” It’s not just about safety. You don’t want to be alone either. You glance at Sieun. His jaw is clenched, eyes fixed straight ahead, but there’s a distant look in them, like he’s not fully present. His posture is rigid, every muscle wound tight, yet his hand rests loosely on his thigh.

You slip your hand into his and slowly rest your head on his shoulder. Even if his body stays stiff, there’s something in the way he leans just slightly toward you that makes your chest ache. A long minute passes like that—maybe two.

Then, from the far end of the bench, you hear a whisper:

“…Is it bad timing if I point out—once again—that I totally knew they had a thing?”

All you managed was a slow blink, thrown slightly off guard.

Baku’s eyebrow were raised, eyes fixed forward with faux innocence, but there’s a smug smirk tugging at his mouth. Gotak snorts beside him, and even Juntae manages a tired laugh.

The tension cracks, just slightly.

Sieun doesn’t say a word—but you catch the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Seriously?” You mutter, not even lifting your head. “You’re the worst.”

“I told you it was obvious,” Baku says, nudging Gotak with his knee. “You owe me fried chicken. For real this time.”

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

By the time everyone made it back to your apartment, it was nearly 7:30 p.m. The sky outside had dimmed to a soft blue-gray, streetlights flickering on one by one. The boys had rushed home to grab a few essentials—chargers, a change of clothes, something to sleep in. You were surprised how quickly they came back.

Now, the smell of instant ramen fills the small living room, and the low murmur of conversation hums like background music. You’re all gathered on the floor around your tiny table—cross-legged, tired, but finally breathing a little easier.

Gotak is halfway through his second cup of noodles. Baku is lying flat on his back, slurping dramatically while Juntae pretends not to be grossed out. Sieun sits beside you, chopsticks in hand, though he hasn’t eaten much. He hasn’t spoken in a while. Not even to you. Still, when you reach for his hand, he lets you take it. He doesn’t squeeze back, but he holds on.

You pulled out blankets and pillows for the boys, grateful your couch unfolded into a bed. You laid the futon mattress beside it, making quick work of the setup. Baku and Gotak flopped onto the couch bed with exaggerated groans. Juntae immediately claimed the futon for himself.

You sit back beside Sieun, your shoulder brushing his. His face is still unreadable. Not cold just… somewhere else. His hair still messy, his clothes still the same ones from earlier, his eyes dull around the edges.

“Hey.” You gave his arm a light nudge. “Go wash up first. You’ll feel better.” You told him gently.

He blinked slowly, then gave you a slight nod and pushed himself up. His movements were heavy, like it took effort just to make his limbs work. You watched as he shuffled toward the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

While he was gone, the boys stayed sprawled across the living room. The television played quietly in the background as they talked among themselves—about what had happened earlier, about Seongje and Beakjin, about what they could’ve done differently. Their voices were low, occasionally interrupted by tired laughter or quiet sighs. Relief was in every breath, even in their exhaustion.

Ten minutes later, Sieun emerged again, steam following him into the hallway. His hair was damp and clinging to his skin, his eyes heavy with something you couldn’t name. He didn’t say anything—just sat back down, cleaner but still quiet.

You grabbed your clothes and headed into the bathroom. In the bathroom, under the warm stream of water, the adrenaline finally began to fade. Your hands trembled slightly as you washed. Everything that had happened replayed in flickers—the cornering at the studio, the locked room, Seongje’s eyes, Beakjin’s quiet threat. You let the fear run its course.

You stepped out of the shower, dried off, changed into your pyjamas, and returned to the living room. They were all wrapped up in blankets now, only half-awake—except for Juntae, who was already fast asleep. The TV was still playing.

“Finally.” Baku muttered from his spot near the edge of the couch bed. “We were about to send a search party.”

“Shut up.” You shook your damp hair at him. Baku and Gotak grinned, tossing you a pillow.

“Goodnight guys.” You said, smiling at them all—until you reached for Sieun’s hand.

“Come on.” You whispered.

He followed when you tugged softly, his body slow to respond, but his feet moved.

Immediately, Baku perked up. “Whoa, whoa. Look who gets special treatment?”

Gotak snorted. “They’re officially disgusting.” You only rolled your eyes at him as you walked away.

You just glanced back at Sieun. He was still quiet. Still somewhere far away. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as you led him down the hall toward your room. He didn’t say anything. But he didn’t let go. The door closed behind you with a soft click, muffling the sounds from the living room. The quiet in your room was deeper—denser somehow.

You stepped out of your slippers and climbed into bed, the sheets cool against your skin. You didn’t try to fill the silence. You simply waited, understanding that Sieun would speak when he was ready. Instead, you looked at him, meeting his distant eyes as he stood there unmoving. “Come here.” You said softly, barely above a whisper.

Eventually, he moved. His steps were slow and mechanical, like his body was running on leftover instinct rather than intention. He climbed into bed beside you without protest, his limbs stiff, breath shallow. When you gently pulled him closer, guiding him to lie across your chest, you felt him tense. His entire body locked up, a sharp inhale catching in his throat. He stayed like that for a moment…

Then, his breath shuddered. Just once.

His shoulders started to tremble.

The first sob was silent, but you felt it—deep and ragged, pulling through him like a wave. His fingers clutched the fabric of your shirt, and he buried his face against your chest as the shaking took over. His breathing grew uneven, shattered, tears soaking slowly through the cotton between you.

You held him without speaking, one hand moving slowly through his hair, the other resting on his back. You didn’t try to stop him. You just held on, steady and quiet, as he cried.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

You didn’t know how long the crying lasted. His body trembled with every breath, and you held him through it all. Quiet, steady, grounding. At last, the shaking began to slow. His breathing grew quieter, broken now and then by uneven exhales. He stayed pressed against you, his cheek against your chest, his fingers tangled in your shirt like he was still afraid to let go.

Then, in a voice so raw it barely sounded like him, he murmured: “It should be me comforting you.” You felt his shame in the way he tensed again, in how he couldn’t quite lift his head. “Not the other way around…”

You pressed your hand lightly to the back of his head, threading your fingers deeper into his hair and hushed him softly. “Don’t say that.” You spoke softly, but firmly. “I feel blessed that you trust me enough to give yourself to me like that.” You placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. “You’re always holding yourself together for everyone else… I like that I get to be here for you.”

He went still in your arms, like those words struck something deep.

“I like comforting you.” You added affectionately.

Sieun didn’t respond right away. But the guilt in his silence slowly gave way to something softer as you continued to hold him. He finally exhaled, all the air he’d been holding in slipping out of his chest.

“I thought I was going to lose you too…” He whispered, voice small and broken. Tears were still slowly falling down his eyes.

And you understood.

His best friend was still in a coma, and that wound hadn’t healed. It would never heal. Watching you get pulled into danger today, hearing you cry through the walls, thinking for even one second that something could happen to you too—it broke something in him.

You pulled him closer, if that was even possible. “I’m here.” You whispered. “I’m safe. I’m not going anywhere.”

You stayed like that for a while, one hand gently tracing circles along his back. Even now, red-rimmed and glassy, his eyes were achingly beautiful. They always had been. There was something haunted about them, a kind of sadness that ran deep, but they held the truth too. Depth. Silence. Fire. You loved how expressive they were, even when he said nothing. And now, staring into them in the dark, you saw something fragile and raw staring back.

“I was scared earlier.” You whispered softly.

He didn’t move, but you felt the faint shift of his attention.

You took a slow breath, fingers trailing gently over his back again. “I knew you’d come for me. With Baku. I never doubted that. And that was the only thing keeping me from completely breaking down. But even while I waited… I wasn’t just afraid for myself. I was afraid for you.” Sieun stirred at that, his hand twitching slightly where it gripped you.

“I was so scared they’d hurt you. Baku as well, but if something would happen to you because of me. And…” You hesitated. “I felt awful too.”

Now he shifted, just enough to lift his head and look at you—eyes still red-rimmed and tired, but focused.

“I didn’t go to school this morning,” Your voice barely above a whisper. “I know it wasn’t my doing, but I know what that might’ve looked like to you. I know you overthink. I know how hard it is for you to trust that people won’t disappear. I kept thinking about how you might of felt in that moment….”

Sieun’s jaw tensed, and he dropped his gaze for a second.

“The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.” You said. “Not after everything. You matter to me. A lot.”

Sieun looked up at you. His eyes were glassy again, but not from pain. Something softer, deeper, rested there now. “You matter to me too.”

A small beat passed. You felt your heart stammer in your chest, but this time, not from fear.

You reached up, your hand resting gently against his cheek, brushing the damp skin beneath his eyes with your thumb. “I love you, Sieun. And I don’t say that because I think tonight was terrifying… I say it because I mean it. I’ve meant it for a while.”

You gave a small, shaky smile. “I know you’re going through a lot. And you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

He flinched, so subtly it might have gone unnoticed by anyone else. But you saw it. Felt it. And then something in his expression cracked. For a split second, you saw it…Something younger in his face. The echo of a little boy who had gone too long without hearing those words. A boy who learned to survive on silence. A boy who was never held gently, never reassured enough that he was worthy of being loved.

And then, just like that, he started crying again.

Not like before. These weren’t sharp or panicked sobs—this time it came like a release. Quiet. Slow. A grief melting into something softer. His chest hitched against yours, the sound of his breath shaky as tears spilled freely down his face again. You stayed like that in the dark, his breath uneven against your skin, his tears still falling, slow and silent.

But little by little, his body began to settle.

The shaking stopped. His breathing, though still heavy, found a rhythm. His grip on your shirt loosened, though he didn’t let go completely. You ran your fingers gently through his hair, slow and soothing. You kissed his forehead gently. Not because it would fix everything. But because it told him: I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

Eventually, you felt the weight of him begin to shift slightly. The way his breath deepened, the way his body melted a little more into yours.

He had fallen asleep on your chest.

You watched the shadows shift in the room. Listened to the soft hum of the television through the wall. Your hand moved slowly through his hair one last time before resting gently at his nape. You exhaled, eyes fluttering closed, the rhythm of his breathing lulling you. And before long, you followed him into sleep.

Held together by the quiet, and everything that hadn’t needed words.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

You woke to the feeling of warmth. Sieun’s weight was still against you. His head was tucked beneath your chin, one arm slung loosely around your waist, fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt like he was afraid it might disappear in his sleep. His breathing was slow and soft.

You didn’t move right away. You didn’t want to wake him. His face looked younger in the morning light. No more tear stains. Just peace. You brushed your fingers lightly through his hair, breathing in quietly, trying not to disturb the calm.

From the muffled rustling outside the door, you could tell the others were already awake. There was the soft clang of dishes, the groan of someone stretching, and a quiet whisper that sounded like Gotak grumbling about the cold floor.

You stayed where you were a little longer, letting yourself have this—this stillness. This comfort. This proof that you’d made it through the night.

When you stirred a little bit, Sieun blinked slowly awake, his brows twitching like he was still unsure of where he was. His gaze met yours, sleepy and confused. Then he blinked slowly as if memories from last night came back to him.

“Morning.” You whispered.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that.” He murmured, voice hoarse with sleep and something deeper.

“I’m glad you did.” You replied. “You needed it.”

He closed his eyes again for a moment, breathing you in like he still wasn’t convinced any of this was real.

“I’m staying here today. I’m gonna call the ballet academy and the school. Let them know I won’t be coming.”

Sieun lifted his head slightly. “You are?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I need the break. I’m ahead in most of my classes anyway. Math is the only one giving me a headache.”

Sieun was quiet for a second, then murmured, “I’ll stay too.”

You blinked.

“I can help with math… if anything.” He added sleepily, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

That pulled a soft laugh from your throat. You tightened your arms around him a little. “Of course you would.”

His lips barely curved, but it was there—a small, real smile.

You gave his forehead a kiss and suffled to get out of bed. “I’ll be back” You said gently.

You slipped out of the room and walked to the living room. You found the others slowly getting ready—pulling on jackets, slinging bags over shoulders.

“I’m not coming in today,” You said slowly, voice rough with sleep. “I’m gonna rest. Yesterday…” You trailed off, rubbing your arm. “Fear drains you like nothing else.”

Gotak gave a slow nod. “Of course.” His lips pressed together in understanding. Juntae’s expression softened, and Baku smiled as he adjusted the strap on his bag.

They lingered in the doorway.

You turned back to them, frowning faintly. “What are you guys waiting for?”

Juntae adjusted his glasses. “We’re waiting for Sieun.”

You hesitated, then answered, a little awkwardly, “Oh. He’s not coming either. He’s staying with me. He’s… exhausted too. From the stress.”

There was a beat of silence.

Baku opened his mouth—already leaning into one of his usual teasing remarks—but Gotak smacked the back of his head lightly. “Don’t.” He muttered.

Baku groaned, rubbing the spot. “I wasn’t gonna say anything bad.”

You rolled your eyes, lips tugging into a faint smile despite everything.

“Be careful.” Juntae said softly as they stepped out. “Text us later, okay?”

“I will.” You promised, and closed the door behind them, the apartment quiet once more.

You quickly made your calls and padded softly back to your room, the apartment now hushed and still.

Sieun was lying exactly where you’d left him, eyes fixed on the ceiling, blinking slowly. The blankets were pulled halfway up his chest, one arm bent behind his head, the other still resting where your body had been.

You crossed the room and crawled back onto the bed. He turned his head to look at you, eyes heavy but clear now.

You slid under the covers beside him, resting your head on the pillow. “They left.” You murmured. “I told them we’re staying home.”

He nodded faintly. “Good.”

You laced your fingers through his under the covers, your bodies still facing one another, only inches apart. The morning light filtered faintly through the curtains, soft and pale, wrapping the room in stillness.

“Do you wanna sleep a little more?” You whispered, your voice quiet, hesitant. “We don’t have to do anything yet.”

Sieun blinked slowly, his gaze resting on yours. His eyes were still shadowed from everything, but there was something gentler now.

He gave a small nod. “Yeah… if you stay here, then yeah.”

He inched closer until your foreheads nearly touched and your legs brushed beneath the blanket. His breath mingled with yours, warm and steady, grounding. With your fingers still laced in his, you closed your eyes and let sleep take you, quiet and undisturbed.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

You woke to the softness of morning light spilling faintly through the curtains, warm sheets tangled between you and Sieun. He was facing you, still close, his breathing slow and even. For a moment, you just watched him. His face was softer than you’d seen it in weeks, the shadows under his eyes were lighter, his jaw no longer tight with tension.

He looked… rested. Like sleep had actually touched something deep in him.

You leaned in just a little and brushed your nose gently against his. His eyes blinked open slowly, hazy with sleep at first. His gaze locked on you, and something in it melted. You reached up, your hand cupping his cheek with gentle fingers. His skin was warm, familiar. Comforting. A sight left him.

He mirrored the motion, his own hand rising to touch your cheek, his thumb grazing softly along the edge of your jaw. His eyes were still on you, and this time, they sparkled with something bright and warm. Like he was looking at you and seeing something precious.

A lazy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“You know…” He started, voice low and rough. “I’ve never said this to anyone before.”

You waited, your heart beating a little faster.

He didn’t rush. He never did. But the silence between you was alive with something unspoken.

“I thought I knew how to live with being alone. I got used to it.” He said quietly. “Used to not being wanted… not being seen. Even before everything with my friend, I was already disappearing.”

His eyes flicked down for a second, then found yours again. “I didn’t think someone like you could care about someone like me.” He said, a small, breathless laugh escaping him, almost in disbelief. “But I kept falling. Every time you talked to me, every time you looked at me like I was worth something… I kept falling.”

His voice broke just slightly—just enough.

“I’m in love with you too” he whispered. “I didn’t say anything last night. But I wanted to. I just… didn’t know how.”

Your eyes stung suddenly, but all you could do was smile—because Sieun was looking at you with eyes that always carried a storm, and now, somehow, there was sunlight in them too.

His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you gently closer, his forehead resting against yours.

The kiss was soft—barely there at first, a brushing of warmth, then firmer as Sieun leaned in with more certainty. He kissed you like something fragile and precious. His hand stayed at the nape of your neck, anchoring him to you.

There was a small smile on your lips, the kind that came from somewhere deep, somewhere safe.

“So…” You whispered, eyes flicking up to meet his. “Am I officially your girlfriend now?”

Sieun blinked, and then a slow, almost shy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah.” He said softly. “You are.”

He looked a little surprised at himself for saying it out loud, but he didn’t take it back. If anything, he looked proud—like the words tasted good.

You smiled wider, your chest feeling light for the first time in days. “Good.” You said, quietly teasing. “Because I was starting to wonder how long I had to wait.”

Sieun let out a soft laugh under his breath, then leaned in and kissed you again—still slow, still tender. As you pulled back just slightly to look at him, your heart fluttered at the sight. His eyes were half-lidded, lips parted, cheeks flushed. He looked so soft in that moment.

You leaned in again. This time, you let your lips move with more intention. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss just enough to draw a small breath from him. His mouth opened under yours, responding now, but letting you lead. His breath was warm, his body pliant, and you felt him tremble slightly

“Can I… try something?” You whispered, barely above a breath.

He didn’t answer at first. He just blinked at you. For a second, you saw the shyness flicker through him, like he was still learning how to accept being wanted this way.

But then, slowly, he nodded.

“I’ve honestly lost count of how many times you’ve saved me.” You said, your voice quiet, a teasing lilt curling at the edges. “I really have to find a way to repay you… for being such a gentleman.”

Sieun’s ears flushed instantly, a deep red crawling up to his cheeks. But he didn’t look away. His eyes stayed on yours, soft and full of wonder, and something else—something that made your chest warm. He blinked slowly, clearly overwhelmed, but his voice came out, low and sincere: “You don’t owe me anything…”

You leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, lingering just long enough to feel him sigh into it.

“I know.” You whispered. “But I want to.”

His eyes widened just slightly—his whole body still, waiting—but behind the shyness, there was trust. And maybe, even anticipation.

You smirked, just a little. “Turn over. On your back.”

Sieun blinked, slightly breathless. He nodded, quiet and obedient, and shifted slowly onto his back, the blankets rustling softly around him. You sat up beside him, brushing some hair from your face as you looked down at him.

“Just relax.” You said gently, your voice light but with a teasing edge. “Let me take care of you.”

He swallowed hard, but didn’t resist—just watched you, his fingers twitching slightly on the comforter.

You leaned over him, letting your fingertips trace softly along the line of his jaw. “If anything feels uncomfortable… tell me. Okay?” Your voice was sincere, grounding. “I mean it. We stop the second you want to.”

Sieun nodded immediately, almost too fast. “I know.” He murmured. “I trust you.”

That look in his eyes made your breath catch. You leaned down, brushing a slow kiss over his cheek, then his jaw. His breath caught as your hand flattened over his chest, feeling the fast rhythm of his heart.

You pressed your lips to the side of his neck now. The skin there was soft, warm, and you couldn’t help but linger, letting your kiss trail along the curve of his neck. He shuddered slightly at the sensation, his body stiffening for just a moment before he relaxed again under your touch. His hand found its way to your back, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that made your pulse quicken. His breath was uneven, his chest rising and falling faster.

Sieun’s eyes fluttered shut as he tilted his head just slightly, silently offering you more. A quiet breath escaped him. You let your mouth linger, lips pressing just firmly enough to draw a soft gasp from his throat. When you finally pulled away, his skin was faintly flushed, and a delicate bloom of red marked the spot where your mouth had been.

Your fingers moved gently along the hem of his shirt, your touch featherlight—asking, not taking. When your eyes lifted to meet his, you found him already watching you. His cheeks were flushed, lips slightly parted, but he only nodded his head at your silent question.

You slowly slid the fabric up, revealing the pale skin beneath. You moved with care. This wasn’t about rushing, it was about seeing him and taking care of him. Sieun’s breathing hitched as your fingers traced his collarbone, his chest rising and falling beneath your palm. You kissed down his chest and took on of his nipple into your mouth and bite it gently. Sieun responded with a sound in the back of his throat that sent shivers down your spine.

You continued your way down, pressing soft kisses along the waistband of his pajama bottoms. His hands clenched the comforter tightly, knuckles paling with tension. “Still okay?” You asked, pausing, your fingers already hooked around the band of both his joggers and underwear.

“Y-Yeah.” He responds shakily. “Please…”

You slowly remove his bottom, feeling nervous yourself. Your lips parted in surprise when his dick sprang free, mouth already salivating. You took your time and ran your hands up his legs, mesmerized by how soft his skin felt as your thumbs rubbed circles on his inner thighs.

Sieun squeezed his eyes shut when you delicately took a hold of him. He was heavy and hard in between your hand. Pre-cum was slowly dribbling down his length. A quiet exhale slipped from Sieun’s lips. It almost sounded like a curse.

You rubbed up and down him tentatively, testing how much pressure seemed to be getting the right reaction. The muscles of his thighs tightened as you focused on the head of his cock and more fluid leaked down to his base. A soft, involuntary moan slipped from his lips.

“You’re so pretty.” You couldn’t help but whisper in awe. His dick twitched in your grasp in answer.

Gathering your courage, your tongue timidly darted out to lick him. Sieun mouth opened, but no words came out. He raised himself on his elbow to look down at you, surprised. You could see the blush spreading across his cheeks, a shade you’d never seen on him before, making him look so vulnerable, so beautiful.

Under his gaze, you simply continue to lick his tip, your tongue flattening over his slit, slurping on his pre-cum. A whimper left Sieun’s mouth and you look up to see his face contorted in pleasure, features softening into an expression of pure bliss.

He let himself fall back on his back when you decided to take him fully. Your hand wrapped around the parts of him you couldn’t reach. You moaned around him, the vibration causing to him gasp. Your eyes closed a moment in concentration as you greedily took more, gagging around him a little bit. Sieun’s head tipped back against the pillow, exposing his throat fully. His hands were still by his side, clenching and unclenching uncontrollably in the sheets.

“Y/N I’m—“ He interrupted himself, bringing his forearm over his face, trying to hide—whether from the intensity or from how exposed he felt, even he didn’t know. His lips parted, and a quiet, helpless sound slipped out. His body became tensed.

Suddenly, a growl left him as hot cum shoot down your throat. You continued sucking as spurt after spurt came, taking everything he gave you. Sieun’s chest was rising and falling erratically. His whole body was shaking in satisfaction. Soft whimper escaped his lips now as you sucked him dry and finally released him.

When you rose, breathless, you gently reached for Sieun’s forearm, which had still been shielding his eyes. With a soft touch, you moved it away, revealing the rawness in his expression. His eyes fluttered open, still clouded with a mixture of vulnerability and bliss. His breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. His gaze softened, meeting yours, but there was something almost frantic in the way his hands reached for yours, seeking reassurance.

For a moment, he didn’t speak, just leaned into your touch, as if grounding himself with the connection between the two of you. His lips parted, but no words came out—only a quiet, shaky breath as his body trembled slightly beneath you.

You gently cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin in a slow, soothing motion. Your heart ached a bit at the rawness in his eyes, the vulnerability he was letting slip through. A small, teasing smile tugged at your lips as you leaned in a little closer, your voice lighter than before.

“So, are you okay?” You asked, your tone playful, but the concern still lingering in your eyes. “Or do I need to keep checking on you to make sure I didn’t break you?”

For a moment, Sieun just stared at you, his expression unreadable. But then, a flicker of something crossed his face, and his lips twitched, almost as if he wanted to smile but was too caught up in the whirlwind of emotions.

“I’m fine.” He said, his voice hoarse but earnest, though it still held a quiet vulnerability. “Just… didn’t expect that.”

You raised an eyebrow, still teasing. “I’ll take that as a compliment, then.“

Sieun blushed, his eyes flickering to the side, and for the first time since everything started, he looked like he was finding his footing again. You could feel the tension in his body start to loosen, a soft chuckle escaping him in response.

“I’ll… I’ll be okay,” he said again, this time with more conviction. “Just… give me a minute.”

You giggled then nodded, leaning down to brush a gentle kiss against his forehead before resting your head back on his shoulder. “Take all the time you need,” You whispered softly, “I’m not going anywhere.”

[randomalistic]

hey! i'm concidering writing an autism-fueled video essay about a blorbo , and i think your similar in concept video on that little white man is very well put together ! i was wondering if you had any tips on how to structure or write something like that?.. also if you answered it allready you can just link the post no worries!!

SLAY hold on Ok so I actually havent made a post for script writing... or if i did i forgor. But here's a post for what programs I use and PNGtuber stuff in particular. I'll probably end up making a masterpost at SOME POINT but I am still learning and have made a total of 3 video essays in my life </3

ANYWAYS THIS IS JUST ME RAMBLING FOR MULTIPLE PARAGRAPHS👍

Umm okay so for script writing... It really depends on the scope of the project. If its about a character or topic you have a TON of preconceived knowledge on, just dump every bit of information out from your brain onto a google doc. make multiple docs even. it doesnt matter how messy it gets. Then just start structuring it however you want, like make an outline, explore ideas and how they could flow into eachother, scrap them, keep bits you like, etc. Expect to scrap a LOT of rambling, which is normal. Don't delete anything you write though, just keep it in a separate place just in case you want to revisit any ideas later.

I think the most important guideline for me personally was to structure it in a way that is "slow and steady." Don't explode all the information you have all at once, you kinda just want to trickle-feed it to the audience. The flow of one concept to another is also important, just do bare minimum for the audience to understand, don't distract them with extra info that doesn't connect to your main point for that section.

Basically, think of the YouTube essays that had you really engaged, or that you really enjoyed, study what you REALLY liked about them - What are the main points? how does it portray new information? Think about their structure as a baseline

Now something related ( definitely not a necessity ) but personally one of my FAVORITE things great video essays do is strategically withholding information from the audience right up until that info is relevant, or until it would have the MOST impact. Storytelling mediums do this too

One of my fav example of this is from a video by LasersZ "How Bolt is a critique of Disney" If you want it slightly spoiled, keep reading. Otherwise just watch it first lol

The narrator argues how Penny's character is a struggling child actor, and he lays out all the information for this argument through media analysis / evidence from the movie itself, he gets you invested in her character struggle.. and then he reveals something: That this whole time, Penny is actually voiced by Miley Cyrus - an at the time child actor who was being used by the TV industry in the exact same way they were using Penny in Bolt. This argument just TRANSCENDED the source material. When he could've just mentioned that information offhandedly at the start, he actually USED that information to strengthen his argument and make the video more meaningful and engaging. Even if you aren't making an argument, this sentiment is probably still useful. You really don't have to pull a "twist" in your video to make it fun, but i just like them hehe

Another example is the goddamn MAGNUM OPUS that is DefunctLand's Disney Channel theme song investigation. At the very end, a HUGE piece of information is revealed that makes the whole video absolutely outstanding, and so appreciative of what its trying to do. I'm not even going to SAY it you need to watch it yourself. If you know you KNOW. AAAGHH. You also see this in Summoning Salt speedrunning history videos. It's always like "it seems this was the new world record... UNTIL... (BOOM. NEW SPEEDRUNNER / STRATEGY DISCOVERED AT JUST THE RIGHT TIME)

ok now I'm just rambling about my favorite videos LOL but you know what I mean. It's internet storytelling. If you want to make it more exciting / meaningful / funny, be very select with the information you're delivering. again, Bare minimum for the audience to understand, don't distract them.

Ooh another thing- specifically something I've taken from Patricia Taxxon's DHMIS video : Tell the audience - how did this thing make you FEEL. In an era where lazy content and Ai is everywhere, people want humanity and authenticity more than ANYTHING. So don't be afraid to go a little off script, be unprofessional, be vulnerable, just be yourself! :']

Anyways I think thats the best advice I can offer rn cuz this post has been in my drafts for months and i forgot about it oops. Thank you so much for asking ❤️

[dw-flagler]

Case 70 Dallon Sisters

This is a really fun one!

Let's assume that Case 70s are way more common, because canonically only twins can be case 70s and only in really specific circumstances, and the dallon sisters aren't blood-related at all, let alone twins. In fact, amy not looking like the rest of the family is a fairly major detail. So let's assume you only need the "they both trigger at the same time while touching eachother" part, not the "and also they're twin siblings" part.

A lot of this depends on when they trigger. The longer we go without them triggering, the weirder and harder this gets.

I think the best option we have here is that Victoria doesn't trigger at the basketball game, she actually triggers during amy's trigger event. Basically simultaneous, like the capricorn twins. That's how they trigger while touching each-other.

Their dynamic would be kind of weird. The capricorn brothers are supposed to hate eachother and their status as case 70s is supposed to WILDLY exacerbate that, but (at least at this point) the dallon sisters just get along. Obviously, not as well as they got on in canon (minus the wretching), they'd fight each-other way more than they did canonically (pre-wretching), but I can't see either of the sisters actually going super far like the capricorn brothers did.

Honestly, as far as I'm seeing, it's actually almost kind of a net positive for amy's mental health as opposed to canon. She wouldn't have the same kind of pressure placed on her as she does in canon, both because I don't think she'd be a healer (and thus would not be suffering from healing burnout) and wouldn't really have a similar pressure from her insane capacity for harm. This version of amy wouldn't feel like she was constantly holding herself back from killing hundreds of people, since she has a different power.

Also it would be harder for her to specifically develop romantic feelings towards victoria? I mean, they would never fight as badly as the capricorn brothers, but being a case 70 means by necessity they'd be stepping on each-others' toes and fighting eachother more often, creating a lot more resentment than the canon dallon sisters. I mean, think about it. You can get along with somebody really well until you're stuck with them. And in this scenario amy and victoria are very literally stuck with each other.

That being said if amy did develop romantic feelings towards victoria it would be way more creepy and awkward. Though it's pretty awkward no matter what.

It would absolutely fuck over new wave though. Like the vast majority of case 70s we see in canon hide the fact that they're case 70s, at least to the general public (cause there's basically no way to spin it)--Capricorn (the only canon case 70 we really see anything about) wasn't hiding it, but they weren't telling anybody outright either. But. New Wave doesn't--can't, even--have secret identities, so there's no way to feasibly hide this.

I imagine--okay, you know the worm fanfic swallowtail? So in Swallowtail New Wave is a pretty big deal in brockton. So they have their own webpage, with these very sanitized character profiles for all the members. I'm imagining something like carol writing the new wave web page and having to find some way to spin "two of my daughters are trapped together for eternity" into a harmless family friendly thing. You can't! you can't do that! It just doesn't work.

But what would actually be their powers? Now that's hard. Usually, when I do these, something will, you know, like, pop out as a cool thing. But there's really nothing that springs to mind for this! So let's do this step by step and hopefully something will grab me.

So, first, Amy. Amy's trigger event here would be basically completely identical to the one in canon. Amy sees her sister bleeding out and triggers from not wanting her sister to die (and leave amy alone). more or less i'm not an amy expert.

Second, Victoria. She's got a different trigger from canon. So, in this AU i'm coming up with, victoria doesn't trigger at the basketball game, but the basketball game still happens. And it affects her as a person. so the idea, I guess, is that victoria's trigger here is more like a drawn out version of her trigger event at the basketball game. Same trauma, but instead of her being like "i've never achieved anything" it's her being like "i'm going to die without achieving anything" so it's the same trigger but slightly different.

Okay, so, basically, my idea is that the Dallon Sisters share a body between each other, which they can swap between in a manner similar to the capricorn brothers. However, unlike the capricorn brothers (where the brothers swap places by having the brother who's fronting will himself to swap places), the dallon sisters would swap by the sister who's not fronting willing herself to swap places. I like the idea because it would be just as awkward but in a different way.

I'm not sure if the dallon sisters should be able to communicate without swapping out, so like victoria's fronting but she can hear amy. I suppose I'm open to either option, or maybe some third thing. Get in the comments!

But anyway, each dallon sister, when fronting, has a different changer ability. My second* idea is that the dallon sisters look like angels. But different kinds of angels. BIG DISCLAIMER: I have never read the bible in my life so I only know this from google. It's likely not totally accurate!

I'm thinking that Victoria's changer form takes cues from the idea of a Powers angel. According to this wiki I read, they're the most fight-y type. Here's a picture of one:

Now, perhaps interestingly, I actually don't think victoria would look much like this. I think it's kind of boring actually. There's one that's more accurate to what I think she'd look like, which is this:

but this is actually a Virtues angel, so a completely different type. I just like the less greek/roman-inspired armor and the big wings.

My idea for victoria's changer form would be human-esque, but not quite so much Just A Normal Guy With Wings like the pictures. My idea is that she'd more be stained glass taking the appearance of an angel. Still able to speak and move normally, and it would be very finely detailed stained glass, but very distinctly she's not made out of meat.

So basically, visually, my idea is a mix of these two images. The form and ridiculously large wings of the second, but a kim kitsuragi Big Circle Behind Head style halo and big red shield of the first. No sword.

I like the idea of her shield working almost identically to her canon forcefield, but directed. So, it basically stops any attack but immediately pops out of existence afterward. She also has a second forcefield which is completely invisible and about an inch above her skin that acts like a video game energy shield. It has, say, 100 hit points, and it can take 99 damage and recharge to 100 hit points in like 10 seconds, but if it takes 100 damage it completely shatters and regrows which takes way longer, like, 30 seconds or something. The forcefield is completely invisible but her halo is a visual indicator of how well it's working. If her halo has a bunch of cracks, her at like 10%, and if her halo shatters like glass, the forcefield is also broken. Oh and also the shield disappears. So like she can never have the shield if the halo isn't there.

One thing I really like is the idea that her entire angel form looks kind of immaterial, but her shield and halo are extra immaterial. If we take the stained glass idea, then the shield and halo are still-see-through tinted glass.

I also like the idea of her being able to fly but it very clearly not being because she has wings. Like, she just kind of floats. And she can't fly if the halo shatters. Basically, like all her abilities depend on the halo being there.

Meanwhile, Amy is a Thrones angel. Those are the Biblically Accurate Angels that everybody goes hog wild for. Here's a picture of one:

So these are both angels, but a thrones angel is the creepy one that looks monstrous and the potestates one looks like A Guy With Wings. Now, most depictions of thrones angels have the wheel thingies absolutely covered in eyes, but this one doesn't.

I like the idea of amy's form being similar to this, but way more stuff going on. Way more wings, which seem to sprout nonsensically from every gap in the wheel thingies, and hands, arms, and tendrils which also appear nonsensically, either from gaps in the wheel thingies or off the wings They also just sort of float near her person, seeming like they sprouted from something. The halos are actual physical objects, being, like, wrapped around the wings and arms.

Basically, the second you see amy's changer form (and you're not like "what the fuck is this") you immediately wonder how everything doesn't get horribly tangled.

For her abilities in this form, amy of course has a very passive ability that she just sort of. has dozens of arms and tendrils and stuff which are very long and sprout from anything, even appearing from nowhere and just kind of floating around. She can spawn or delete them at will, but there's a minimum amount of, like, 14 or something. Otherwise, she's got an extremely similar forcefield to canon victoria, but it takes more to pop and regenerates quicker. Each spawned arm is either part of the one forcefield, or has its own individual forcefield, if it's free floating. They still have to be in a pretty short radius though

the idea is that victoria is really strong against one target but weak against groups, but amy is strong against groups but weak against one target.

One idea i thought was kind of neat is that the longer victoria stays in her changer form, the more arms and wings she seems to grow, meaning that she has to either revert to human or swap to amy to stop it. Sort of a gradual change.

Oh, and each sister has a different thinker ability when they're not in control. So, like, when victoria's fronting, amy can see 360 around her and when amy's fronting victoria has a combat thinker power of some kind. I dunno i'd have to workshop it.

Whereas the vera brothers' powers incentivize swapping out often and quickly, but swapping out being hard, the dallon sisters' powers are the opposite, incentivizing staying as one sister but swapping out being really easy.

I don't really know why angel popped out at me, the dallons are only catholic coded. Angel themed capes is also a really tough market since, you know. The Simurgh.

As a composite cape, I do like the idea of them being named something like Seraph to lean into it. Which you'll note neither of them are based on an Seraph at all and it doesn't actually make sense. But branding calls.

[lakesbian]

Hello! The way you have talked about American Psycho (the novel) has me interested. I know it was/is critically acclaimed, but would you generally recommend it? (as in, do you think would be a worthwile and/or enjoyable read for most people?)

i liked the novel a lot it's one of those books where i read it and im like. okay yeah i see why this critically acclaimed famous literary work is a critically acclaimed famous literary work. i read it over the span of like a week or a week and a half i think. the biggest barriers to someone getting through it would probably be the general writing style and the intense and explicit bigotry + gore.

i saw a post on here where someone said they couldnt get through the first chapter or so not bc of any gore but because the dense, vapid writing style just wasn't enjoyable despite knowing that it's an intentional choice to say something about the narrator. but i really really liked the style of narration. the author made so many intentional choices of varying subtlety that were really fun to try to pick up on and pick apart while i was reading. its just really well crafted. things get nonlinear and unreliable and droning and theres run-on sentences--and all of this comes off as being very intentional, well-placed elements. it evokes great comedic effect when it wants to, it can be really unpleasant when it wants to be, and it can really dig into certain emotional effects when it wants to. its just a really really well crafted book.

i feel like it's like. if you try to laboriously sound out & visualize every designer brand patrick mentions in your head while you're reading, yeah, you'll get bored? but most of the paragraphs where patrick is droning on and on about stupid shit are packed full of little jokes, like how tons of the elaborate meals he describes at rich person restaurants actually sounds kinda disgusting if you stop to think about it for a minute, or how if you look up the songs he's analyzing, he's wildly, stupidly incorrect about them. and when these droning paragraphs aren't there for humor, they're there for the horror of this being patrick's mind, blended very effectively with the horrible shit he does.

imo when theres an intentionally droning/dense bit you have to like. Parse it and understand what the purpose of it is as an element in the story without losing sight of the forest for the trees. many comedic elements are long-running; once you parse how shitty much of the food sounds, it gets easier to read and see the joke in subsequent sections, and to notice when a mention of food is for a different purpose instead. if that makes sense? and if you don't naturally click with the writing style (i was enjoying it basically from like. the fifth page onwards. it took me like 5 pages and then i was with the program), i think it's worthwhile to spend some time thinking about what the book is doing & why to see if you can get into the groove and get something out of it. it's fun and interesting to read well written books and consider how they're written and what effect it produces and why!!!

as for the horror/gore ive also seen that mentioned as a reason someone took a while/struggled to get thru it which like. that makes sense. just about every slur is in there. the depiction of bigotry-fueled murder + torture is constant and explicit. it is frequently intentionally a fever dream of tears and suffocating alienation and bloodiness and intestines and ruined genitals and so on and so forth. there's probably every kind of gore you can imagine (eye, tooth, tongue, vaginal/anal...maybe not penile? various organs, really just every orifice, power tools, cannibalism, human butchery, child murder, animal murder, rape obviously, et cetera), and it is Really Explicitly Described by an author who's really good at explicitly describing things. this is a matter of personal taste; if youre like me, youll really enjoy when it manages to be unnerving/discomforting & youll want to rotate it in your brain. if you do not have a very high tolerance for written description of such things, you will probably really struggle to get through it, which like. makes sense. at this point there's probably the question of "but is all that gratuitous and unnecessary?" and no i really dont think so. i think you need all of that to tell the story its telling and make the points its making and convey the emotions its conveying. it would not be the Experience it is without the violence. i like the violence. and as an aside, i think it has a really good balance of moments where it leaves something awful to your imagination vs where it goes all-in on depicting it.

now im gonna non sequitur but i think the biggest thing about the book is this quote from the author:

Bateman was crazy the same way I was. He did not come out of me sitting down and wanting to write a grand sweeping indictment of yuppie culture. It initiated because of my own isolation and alienation at a point in my life. I was living like Patrick Bateman.

patrick bateman is like. Hes profoundly fucking mentally ill. and i had my autism moment tally for him running thruout the book. the most awesome thing about american psycho To Me is that at its very core, if youre the right kind of person, it's relatable, in a warped sort of way--you're not that guy, because you don't kill and eat people, but the mentally ill things he's thinking to himself as he cries and throws up while eating the people he killed? recognizable as an experience, if in an anti-aspirational sort of way. i like books where you can tell the author was vomiting up an exploration or an indictment of whatever misery they were simmering in. the result here is a book that is an Experience to read, and quite possibly an at times delightfully uncomfortably familiar one. the whole thing is just a really interesting and visceral experience and headspace to be in and to dissect and ponder.

so overall. no idea if id say its a worthwhile read for Most people, i dont know most people. but, like, the movie isnt good in one of those "good movie adapted from source material thats kind of shitty/whatever/inaccessible" ways. its a solid movie because it managed to Not crazy-style fuck up adapting a really good book. i think if youre intrigued by the book at all and feel like youll be ok with the content then id definitely recommend it. again i really enjoyed it. they need to give me more books that are good to read . like american psycho

[sainz100]

Carlos Sainz | F1 London Live in 2017 | x x x x x

[brionysea]

allison and five are actually fascinating to write together. allison is the sibling for checking on people and asking in plain english if they're okay but five would literally rather bleed out than show a shred of vulnerability

[lightbulb-warning]

so has anyone figured out WHY there is the Need To Share our Artworks™ or is it just the vibes and our Soul apparently

[enterstellars]

guys i cannot wait to move

[pumpking64]

to all my mutuals out there: i love you and get happy every time i see you on my dash or in my notifications or just your tiny icon in the corner of my screen from having messaged a bit some time ago and i want you to know that you are appreciated <3

[unproduciblesmackdown]

anytime there's production trivia for something i've actually seen like "& the director didn't tell any of the actors this was going to happen so as to get Not Acted Surprise, from the Actors" it's like that's so funny the way i didn't ever see that part as like wow that seemed so particularly genuine to me compared to other parts of this work or other works in general. but on the other hand there'll be scenes in something where a surprising event occurs around multiple characters and there'll be trivia like "wow the way nobody (else) knew this was going to happen beforehand, in so impactful a scene, that makes sense" and then someone involved will be like that's not true