#if nothing else at least I’ll have a project for a couple days

[why-the-heck-not]

started a sourdough starter!!! It’s not even that much abt bread; I just like the idea of having a pet and this is about the max amount of responsibility I’m looking for rn

[sxcret-garden]

3rd Desire ღ A Little Jealousy [M]

ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ feat.: Yeosang & Wooyoung ღ words: ~4.8k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, clothed sex, teasing, tiny bit of finger sucking (idol receiving), oral (idol receiving), he’s a lil mean again, hair pulling, biting, dacryphilia, bit of brat-taming, reader goes into subspace, sir kink, fingering (reader receiving), unprotected sex) ღ warnings: heavy dom-sub dynamic, (he runs his hand through reader’s hair and picks her up)

Desc.: When you’re meeting up with your classmate and friend Yeosang in order to finally finish that dreaded uni project that’s been keeping you on edge for the past weeks, you don’t expect him to bring along his flirtatious friend Wooyoung. What you also don’t expect is said friend knowingly attempting to flirt with you in front of your boyfriend, who just can’t help but let the hint of jealousy it makes him feel influence his actions once you’re in the comfort of your own home.

Author's note: This is actually one of my fav chapters so far, and 80% of the reason is because the first scene was so much fun to write kasjdfkljsöldka

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Arriving at the café a few minutes early, you find Yeosang already waiting for you. You came here from your university dorms, about 20 minutes by bus, so you didn’t expect to be late, but you tend to always leave a little earlier than you have to anyway, just to be sure.

Your meet-up place is a cute little café that turns out to be a lot more spacious than one would assume looking at it from the outside, and it serves all the classics, as well as a couple of drinks that are especially popular these days.

“Did everybody send you their parts?” you ask, starting up your laptop, while Wooyoung watches the alarm that’s supposed to tell you when your drinks are ready.

“I thought they were supposed to send them to you…?” Yeosang replies, eyes widened because he doesn’t want this meeting to already turn into a catastrophe. The frustration that your teammates have continuously nurtured with their incompetence over the past two weeks bubbles up deep inside you again, until you check your emails and you find that they did indeed send their parts to you.

“Sorry, my bad,” you sigh deeply.

“It can happen,” Yeosang assures you, while the alarm goes off, shaking the whole table as it vibrates, and Wooyoung immediately grabs it and gets up. You’re glad he’s at least being useful in that regard - otherwise you’re not sure why Yeosang brought his friend from an entirely different major along to your café date of hell.

“He insisted,” your teammate tells you upon posing your question. “Actually I don’t know why I brought him either.”

“Excuse me?!” Wooyoung exclaims in offense as he returns with your order, having heard his friend’s reply. But Yeosang is quick to wave it off.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” To your surprise his loud friend merely sits down while eyeing him with a doubtful expression, but he doesn’t say anything more to that. Finding yourself more fascinated than anything else by their dynamic, you shake your head eventually and redirect your attention to the screen in front of you. 

“I’ll send you the parts so we can go over them together,” you announce as you’re already dropping the files into your kakao chat with Yeosang, the familiar tone coming from the speakers of his laptop signaling an incoming message that tells you he received them quickly. Wooyoung leans in, nosily looking at the files his friend is opening.

“Looks good… if you ignore the formatting,” Yeosang shades, making you chuckle, and Wooyoung lets you hear a loud “Hey!”

“You didn’t do yours any better!” he teases Yeosang, attempting to pinch his side but his friend evades the attack. 

“Personal space,” he just remarks, pushing Wooyoung away with his flat palm against his cheek. Once again you find yourself fascinated by their cartoonish behaviour most of all, but you don’t comment on what just unfolded in front of your eyes. “And also, mine doesn’t look very interesting, but at least it has the correct formatting.”

“Yeah, this professor doesn’t really have an eye for aesthetics,” you add, grinning yet unhappy about the way the paper you were supposed to put together looks overly sterile. “But I guess that’s what science wants.”

“Well, the contents are what matters,” Yeosang adds, this time not defending himself when Wooyoung throws an arm around his shoulders, but you can tell he’s not happy about the pda. With curious eyes he leans in, skimming through the text on Yeosang’s screen, and you give him an annoyed sigh. You really just want to finish this damn project already, before it consumes any more of your nerves. 

“Oh. Sorry,” Wooyoung grins as he notices your distress, moving away from the computer as he straightens his back, and you’re not sure what to make of his reaction. Telling yourself to focus on the problem at hand instead of him, you begin pasting the text into one collective document, while Yeosang starts reading through everything in search of any possible errors.

“Looks good,” he eventually announces, and you agree, having joined him in proofreading everything. 

“You two sure are fast,” Wooyoung comments, and he shoots you a gaze filled with mischief.

“This is the tenth time we read through these, so…” you explain.

“I see… Yeosang here told me about how horrible the others were to work with,” the guy sitting next to your classmate continues.

“You’re also horrible to work with, and you’re not even a part of this,” Yeosang mutters under his breath, causing you to chuckle, and Wooyoung immediately complains.

“That hurt! I know when to be serious, in contrast to some people.” He says it so ominously that you think at least Yeosang must know who he’s talking about, but he too shoots him a questioning look. “Whatever,” Wooyoung brushes it off with a hand gesture. “You’re done now, aren’t you? So we can finally get to know each other,” he adds, directed at you. “This guy told me a lot about you, so I’ve been dying to meet you.” He points at Yeosang, whose ears grow bright red and he waves his hands in front of his face.

“It’s not what it sounds like. I don’t talk about you all the time, this guy here just likes to blow things way out of proportion,” he explains, and with the way Wooyoung is grinning from ear to ear now, all you’re left with is to believe Yeosang’s words.

“Figured,” you say. “So? What did he tell you about me that made you so interested?” You give Wooyoung a challenging smile, and the guy is eating up your attention as he watches you with a spark in his eyes.

“How you took the lead in your project after everyone else did nothing, for example,” Wooyoung replies. “I respect people like that! You know, people who get things done.” You chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“Don’t be mistaken, I’m not usually the leader type. Just… when I need to be… for the sake of my own sanity.”

“I see,” Wooyoung says, leaning back in his chair now, taking on a comfortable stance.

“I’m sorry about him, I shouldn’t have brought him along,” Yeosang says, once again. “He flirts with everything that breathes in his direction, it means nothing. He’s just doing this for his own entertainment, but I can punch him for you if you want?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you say. “It’s fun to do this every once in a while.”

“Oh? What do you mean - every once in a while?” Wooyoung pries, a broad grin now playing his lips as he leans back in his chair. “You’re not the type to go out and meet people like this?”

“Not to flirt with them,” you laugh, directing your gaze towards the entrance of the café, where the image of Jongho walking inside has caught your eye. You decided to have him pick you up after your meeting with Yeosang, so that you could grab dinner together. You didn’t expect him to be here this early, though. “I’m not sure if my boyfriend would like that,” you add, looking back at Wooyoung, whose mouth forms the shape of an o, before he once again merely grins at you.

“I see, I see… but the fact that you flirted back at me tells me you like to live dangerously,” he remarks, before letting out a giggle that seems both very sudden, yet not out of character at all. Yeosang can only sigh beside him. He looks like he wants to snark at his friend for that, but he bites back the words, as your attention is visibly drawn elsewhere and you scoot over on the bench to make space for your boyfriend.

“Hello,” he greets the other two, politely bowing his head in front of them, before he sits beside you. And now you’re the one grinning to yourself, seeing his shyness that seems even weirder now, that you’re getting to know more and more very different sides to him.

“Wait… is that the boyfriend?” Wooyoung points his finger at the guy next to you, eyes raised in surprise.

“Yeah,” you answer.

“You’ve been talking about me?” Jongho asks, raising his eyebrows as well. There’s a hint of disbelief in his voice, and for a second you wonder if you should use this opportunity to tease him a bit. But of course Wooyoung, the loud one, is faster.

“She’s been talking about you.”

“Don’t believe a word he says,” Yeosang utters, before you can defend yourself. “He just says whatever.” Another highly offended Wooyoung-noise is what follows, while you feel Jongho tapping your arm lightly, and when you glance over to him you can see him quietly laughing. Apparently he finds their dynamic just as amusing as you do. 

“Yeah, so… that’s Yeosang, who I’ve been working on the project with. And that’s his friend Wooyoung, who has nothing to do with the project but came along anyway to be a distraction,” you introduce the two guys, then you point at your partner. “That’s my boyfriend Jongho.”

“You think I’m distracting?” Wooyoung retorts, because that appears to be all he heard, and he says it proudly and with this shit-eating grin on his face as he puts his elbow on the table, supporting his head with his chin in his palm. You can’t lie, his bold attempt to continue flirting with you in front of your boyfriend both makes you think he must be incredibly stupid, and somehow also makes you admire his courage.

“Not in the way you think,” you answer calmly, trying to sound almost cold. Next to Wooyoung, Yeosang is muttering an “oh my god”, but most importantly your boyfriend doesn’t react to it. Instead he diverts the conversation into a different direction, and in your head you thank him for it.

“So… were you able to finish everything?” he asks, and you nod.

“Almost,” you say. “The formatting needs to be checked again, but that’s Yeosang’s job. So… if you want to go get dinner now, we can!”

“Ah, no, I wasn’t trying to rush you,” he assures as he balances somewhere between seeming friendly and polite. 

You end up leaving pretty soon anyway. Yeosang informed you that he still had things to do (you assume he just wanted an excuse to get rid of Wooyoung) and so you packed your things and split up into pairs in front of the café, with your friend and his friend taking the route to the bus stop across the street, and you and Jongho walking a couple of blocks to get to a restaurant you’ve been wanting to try. It’s serving stew as its speciality, just right for a chilly evening like today.

A groan of satisfaction escapes you as you link your hands above your head and stretch your arms and back after entering the apartment. Your boyfriend smiles at the sight in front of him as he puts his jacket on a hanger and then he follows you into the living room.

“Getting dinner there was a really good idea,” you remark as Jongho comes up to you from behind, placing his hands onto your hips and leaning in.

“Right? You should let me pick restaurants more often,” he mutters right beside your ear, and when you whirl around to get a proper look at his face, he laughs softly.

“I think it was my idea to go there?” you retort, taking offense in him attempting to take all the credit, but he’s quick to appease you.

“I know, I know, just joking.” You huff at his attitude with a smile, before he adds, “I thought you liked mischievous guys.” He walks away and towards the kitchen as you’re still confused about his words, but when you begin to have a hunch about what made him say this, he’s already out of sight. You follow him, finding him pouring himself a glass of water, and without a change in expression he takes a few sips. You can only stare at him, hoping for him to say anything to help you figure out whether that hunch is right or wrong, but he doesn’t look like he’s in a hurry. Setting down the glass, he seems to be thinking about something as he’s supporting his weight with his hands on top of the kitchen counter, and then, when he finally shoots you a glance, the expression on his face has changed.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Liked what…?” Jongho pushes himself off the counter in front of him, taking a few steps towards you instead. He comes to a halt when you’re merely a few inches apart, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly, and his hand finds your face.

“That guy flirting with you,” he says, his voice dangerously low, and he lets his thumb trace the outline of your bottom lip. “You liked that.”

“I…” You gulp as you look up at him. So he did realize it. You should’ve known better than to assume you could hope he wouldn’t be able to read you that well. But you were mistaken. It seems he already learned to notice and correctly analyze even the smallest of signs, and you guess in some way that’s a good thing, you’re just not sure what this means in a situation like this.

“It’s fine, dear,” he speaks, his voice merely a whisper now, and he leans in to press one feathery light kiss onto your lips. “You can admit it.” Again, you find yourself gulping. But the sweetness of his kiss mixing in with the soothing effect his words have on you leave you unable to ponder on this for longer. And so you simply say it, without thinking about the consequences.

“I liked it.”

It was only yesterday that you had another conversation, figuring you should talk more in depth about your wants and what you don’t want, after he almost crossed a line last time. You talked about your relationship, your sexual relationship mostly, the kind of dynamic that’s slowly growing between the two of you, and the kind of dynamic you two wish for. Surprisingly, from what you’ve discussed at least, your wishes align mostly.

You both agreed you want more. More than a kink or two incorporated into your sex life. More than a barely noticeable difference in power. He made it clear he’s willing to go into this with you, take you by the hand, and that he’d make sure to satisfy you.

But you know he also wants to be satisfied himself. And it’s exciting you, thinking about it then, and thinking about it now, as he’s steering you towards the nearest wall, until your back gently comes in contact with it. It’s not much, no grand gesture, and yet you can already feel the flames of desire burning up in your stomach.

“I see.” He speaks slowly now, the tone in his voice sending a shiver down your spine and you know he can see you tremble. From excitement for what’s to come, and curiousity about what he plans to do with you now. “What?” He raises an eyebrow, one hand resting against the wall right next to your head, the other reaching out until his fingertips come in contact with your stomach, and he lets them dance up until he’s almost reached your throat. When he sees you gulp at his action, he huffs, as if laughing at you. “You think I’ll give you what you want that easily?” Jongho asks, pulling his hand away and you inevitably frown at him for it. “After flirting with another guy? After you tell me you liked it? I don’t think so.” He takes a few steps away. There’s a calm expression on his face, his look feels almost icy as he lets his gaze wander from your head down your body. “You should know who can please you best,” he warns. “Or, don’t tell me you think that cheeky guy could make you feel better than me?”

“No!” you respond immediately and without having to think about it.

“But you still liked the attention,” your boyfriend states, matter-of-factly. 

“Y-yeah…” you admit, making yourself smaller instinctively.

“Cute,” he huffs at your apologetic gesture, and there’s a hint of a smirk sitting on his face. You weren’t 100% sure about it before, whether he really is jealous or if he’s doing this for fun, but now you can clearly tell - he’s enjoying this. And that’s fine, because you talked about this too - what you’re about to get yourself into, and how far you’re both willing to go in the process.

“Come here,” Jongho orders along with a gesture of his hand and you oblige. You step closer, let him put his arms around you, and the kiss he presses onto your lips is surprisingly soft. Slowly, he moves his lips against yours, tilting his head so he could deepen the kiss eventually, taking his time as he runs the tip of his tongue along the front row of your teeth, and just when you begin to want him to kiss you more passionately, he parts from you. One look at your face, his darkened eyes making you shiver in his hold, then he brushes his lips against the corner of your mouth. Trailing kisses across your cheek and eventually halting beside your ear as he cups your face with both hands now.

“Get on your knees, beautiful.” You don’t hesitate, and you don’t protest. It’s like his words put you in a trance, making sure you wouldn’t even think of disobeying him. And so you do, you drop down to the floor in front of him, hands immediately fumbling with the button on his pants, because you know what he wants. There’s only one thing a guy could want when he tells you to get on your knees for him, and you’re set on giving him that. But your eagerness doesn’t go uncommented. “So greedy,” he mutters, as he calmly watches you pull down his pants and underwear, exposing his half hardened length. His hand finds its way into your hair, fingertips massaging your scalp and for a second as you glance up at him you think you can see his features soften. “You already know what to do, hm?” your boyfriend continues, yet you wait for the okay to touch him.

“Can I…?” you ask, making him let out a short laugh. And there it is again, that grin that would tell anyone that he knows he’s in control, and he’s enjoying it. 

“Are you gonna make me wait?” he poses a question in return, and in that same breath phrasing the answer himself. “I don’t think so.” 

You keep one hand resting on his thigh, while you wrap the other around his cock. Peering up at him to watch him as he watches you, you start moving your hand slowly, and the second your palm brushes against his head, you can see the way his lips part to make way for a quiet sigh. You bring your fist all the way back down his shaft, repeating the motion a few times, until you find a hint of impatience on his features.

“Dear…” he mutters, untangling his fingers from your hair to cup your chin instead. As he lifts it up, his thumb presses against your lips, and when you open your mouth to let out a shaky breath, he pushes the finger inside. Your eyelids fluttering shut, you meet him with the tip of your tongue, instinctually swirling it around his finger once, before you close your mouth around it and suck on it. “Like that…” Jongho breathes a praise in your direction, before pulling his thumb out of your mouth and putting his hand back on top of your head to steer your field of vision back towards his core. He stays quiet, but he wouldn’t have needed to say anything more anyway to get you to finally do what he wants you to. You move closer, extending your tongue for mere kitten licks, quick strokes that wouldn’t possibly be near satisfactory against the tip of his cock. You glance up at him again, seeing the impatience building up behind his gaze that won’t leave you, and for a moment you wonder whether you should try and see what happens if you push him a bit more. 

But your own hunger wins over that desire. He was probably right, you really are greedy today, because the second you wrap your lips around him, you find yourself moaning at the feeling of having him in your mouth. The hiss of pleasure he lets out forces you to suppress a grin. Instead, you take him in further, hollowing your cheeks as you let him fill you up with his size. 

His hips stay still. You wonder whether it would stay like this, whether he would make you do all the work and merely guide you into the pace he wants, as he is doing currently, with his fingers grasping onto strands of your hair, or if he would eventually lose patience and start fucking into your mouth. All you know is you’re fine with either, and yes, you’re eager to please him, eager to get him off. 

Your hand still wrapped around him moves along with your head for additional friction, and you keep peering up at his eyes, wanting to see the moment he breaks apart, and all the expressions leading up to it. And yet he stays in control, disappointingly much, so you take him in even further as you sink back down on him, until his tip hits the back of your throat, making you gag in response. You furrow your brows at the uncomfortable sensation, and yet you do it again with your next repetition of the movement. So long, until tears are starting to well up in your eyes, and that’s when he takes his hand away from your hair and cups your face instead, cursing at how good you’re being for him.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he groans, and now you can see the pleasure distorting his face - it’s not much, but it serves as a motivation to work even harder for him. The sound he lets out as you swallow around him makes you moan as well, until you move your head and your hand faster, and the lewd sounds of you sucking him off, as well as your boyfriend’s heavy breaths fill the room. “Y/N, stop,” he mutters, and you don’t, because you want to push him over the edge so desperately. Instead you mewl at the taste of his precum leaking onto your tongue, and you close your eyes, preparing yourself to take his load.

What you don’t prepare yourself for is him yanking your head away by your hair, the shock from the sudden action and the immediate wave of pleasure that follows as he growls,

“I said stop.”

“Yes, sir.”

A sudden weakness washes over you, and the only thing you can do is move your head up just a little bit, leaning into the touch of his hand on top of it. And you don’t miss the way the words affected him. After he had suggested you calling him that and you had refused, saying you found the thought of calling your boyfriend sir a bit weird, you know he didn’t expect you to say it after all. But you did. And now there’s an entirely new expression on his face, an entirely new burning passion reflecting in his eyes, and you know it’s only a matter of time until it burns you too.

“Get up,” he says eventually, and you do as told, finding yourself held up safely with his hands resting on your sides as soon as you stand. Your body feels light, almost like he’s taken control of your will, when he steers you back a few steps, into your original position against the wall. Without hesitation, he kisses you, teeth clashing together as he tears at your clothes, and he only parts from you to pull them off, piece by piece, one after the other, and when he has gathered half of them on a pile somewhere on the floor, he decides that should be enough. Your pants gone should do, and when his lips smash onto yours again, you feel his hand between your thighs, fingers prodding at your folds.

“Shit,” he hisses against your lips. “You’re fucking soaked… can’t wait to fuck you…” His words make your head spin, and the way his fingers slip inside you effortlessly only adds to your lightheadedness. You throw your arms around his frame, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt covering his back, and you buck your hips into his palm as he starts curling his fingers inside you. You can only mewl at the pleasure, sentences are too hard to form right now, maybe if you tried you could get out a few words with no correlation between them. 

“...p-please…” you slur, “...f-fuckme…” 

“Who do you belong to?” Jongho asks, his fingers working you at a speed that should give you time to answer, but that won’t keep you sane for long. And yet you can’t say anything, only pathetic whimpers come out when you open your mouth. “Who?” he repeats. “Is it me? Do you belong to me?”

“Y-yessir…” you manage to say, and he bites his bottom lip hard.

“That’s right.” You can hear his voice trembling as he speaks, and you let out another sorry excuse of a moan as he presses his thumb against your clit. “Gonna make you cum so good, pretty girl… just wait…” All you can do at this point is cling to him for dear life, incoherent whines and whimpers falling from your lips, in between words that are supposed to tell him you want to cum on his cock, but you’re not sure how much of that actually gets through to him. And still, when your walls are starting to clench around him and your whole body tenses up, he finally pulls out of you. With his hand soaked in your juices he gives himself another few strokes, before telling you to hold on tight and lifting you up with his hands placed on the underside of your thighs. You cry out as he pushes into you, tears welling up in your eyes again, and this time they fall. Rolling down your cheeks as the pleasure overwhelms you, arms wrapped around him so tightly that you’re not sure if maybe you are squeezing a bit too tightly after all. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters in this moment is the chase for your high, and it ends with merely a few of his thrusts. Your body shakes violently as your orgasm hits you, you bite his shoulder and yet the moans won’t stop escaping you, and as you do, he too comes undone. You keep clenching around him as you feel him spilling inside you with a groan, and even as you start coming down from your high, your body won’t stop trembling. 

He tries to help you stand, but realizes quickly that all attempts are futile. So he carefully lets you sink down onto the ground, staying close to you in order to keep holding onto you. 

“How was that?”

“Good…” you manage to whisper an answer, not having the energy for a more elaborate one, but your boyfriend understands.

“I’m glad.” Jongho collapses with his back against the wall next to you, letting you rest your head on top of his shoulder and him leaning his head against yours. His hand finds yours naturally, fingers intertwining, as your mind is still drowned in bliss from the afterglow of your orgasm.

“It was perfect, actually,” you say, correcting yourself. “You were perfect.” You lift your other hand up to comb your fingers through his short hair, eventually letting it rest against his cheek and bringing him in for a short but sweet kiss. And then there it is again, that soft smile appearing on his lips, and when you lift your head he buries his face in the crook of your neck - to hide that expression from you, as you assume. 

“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually call me that, after saying you didn’t want to at first,” he says, and you retort, questioningly,

“Sir?”

“Yeah…” Jongho looks away, still visibly affected by it, and you shoot him a mischievous glance.

“I’m… really enjoying this though. And I’d like to keep… trying new stuff too…” you speak, and your boyfriend gives you a smile.

“We just tried a lot of new stuff, and you already want more?” He gets up, walking over to one of the cupboards and getting you a glass of water. “Drink this, first of all,” he says as he hands it to you. “And tomorrow we can sit down and talk again.”

[lemons4u]

𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐓 ! - 𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒┊i’ve left you guys w nothing for so long 💔 so take this small series (multiple chapters) as a apology, hopefully you guys will forgive meeee— AND i’d like to add the kazuha smut isn’t gonna come out till the end of november or thee begging of december, anddd expect a albedo smau ❤️

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒┊fluff, suggestive (ofc, it’s written by pri, what else do u expect?), fem! reader, modern au, somewhat ooc alhaitham not rly though, AND CUTIE PATOOTIE READER… w a little attitude

“ come on alhaitham! it can’t hurt to try dating someone… ” kaveh tried to reason with him— claiming that he’d been single long enough and needed a relationship. ( also he is very attractive, and has chicks swarming all around him… you’d think he’d make the effort to start something with one of them… but! guess not! )

“ kaveh, i said no. i’m in no need of a reltionship— plus all these.. girls. ” he hesitated— thinking of a proper way to describe them.

“ their annoying, and clearly don’t care much for their studies.. i need a partner who actually has a brain. ” alhaitham said sourly.

“ ugh… ” kaveh pouted, “ brains aren’t everything, you know? if i were you i would’ve got a girlfriend already!! ”

“ i hope one day these girls realize you’ve got no personality and are rude and— and well, you know!”

“then they’ll realize what a true man is… ” he grinned. “ aka, me. ”

“ brains aren’t everything? i disagree… a persons brain is—”

“ shush! i don’t need one of your lectures about how blah blah means blah blah. ” kaveh scoffed, frowning once more.

“ one day you’re going to end up dating a no brainer, just because their pretty. ” alhaitham murmured, closing his book and leaning his head back on his seat.

“ and you’re gonna end up dating no one. ” kaveh snapped back.

“ fine by me. ” alhaitham said stoically, but to be honest… he did want to love someone eventually, but he wouldn’t admit that to kaveh.

“ you know what? if you can’t find anyone you like here at our uni… why not get a dating app! there’s plenty of smart people on those! ” kaveh exclaimed excitedly, desperate to get his “lonely” roommate a partner.

“ and get catfished? no thank you. ” alhaitham declined quickly… but seriously, a dating app might be a good idea— maybe he could meet someone at his intellectual level.. not some dumbass like all the girls here.

“ not everyone on dating apps are catfishers, come on! please try one! and i’ll pay you a visit to the library…!! ” kaveh pleaded. “ you don’t even have to date… you can just make a friend! ”

friend….? well he certainly needed more of those— as well as new books.

“ a visit to the bookstore, not library, and you have a deal. ” alhaitham tilted his head up at kaveh.

“ ugh… fine. just don’t buy too many books! or else i’ll never be able to afford supplies for my project. ”

alhaitham hummed. “ alright, i’ll limit myself to… eh, three books. ”

from the most expensive section too…

“ three?! come on make it at least two… ” kaveh pouted. “ you always get the most expensive books, so two! ”

alhaitham sighed, “ fine, two books, and i’ll try that stupid dating app. ”

“ bet! ” kaveh gleamed, picking up alhaitham’s phone which made alhaitham jolt up a bit.

“ hey what are you— ” kaveh shushed him.

“ getting you the app, obviously!! ” kaveh chuckled, flashing the phone over to alhaitham’s face for face-id.

poor alhaitham couldn’t even snatch it back.

kaveh was typing away on alhaithams phone ( without alhaitham’s consent too! how rude! )

“ here! now you can set up your profile. ” kaveh handed alhaitham back the phone.

“ okay, okay. ” alhaitham muttered, sounding unhappy… but in reality he was a little bit excited.

“ kaveh. why do you even want me to date someone….? ”

“ because haitham, your 23 and haven’t even gotten a peck on the lips— and your like, i dunno, attractive? i have no idea i just wanna help you live a little… ”

alhaitham blinked at his friend a couple of times… live a little? he was already living his life the best he could.

well actually, that was debatable.

“ yeah, okay. ” alhaitham clicked on the profile… he needed a profile picture and bio..

“ use the photo from the festival! you know, the one with the glasses and you actually smiling! ” kaveh suggested.

“ that one…? okay. ” alhaitham scrolled through his gallery, which was mostly just photos of kaveh making faces, books, and some things he found appealing (aesthetic sunsets, and photos of trees and plants).

“ what about for my bio? ” alhaitham asked kaveh, who seemed to already be conducting something “good”.

“ say your name, age, mbti, zodiac, and major! and whatever else you think is important for your soulmate to know. ” kaveh nodded proudly.

“ soulmate? you make me laugh. there’s no such things as soulmates. ” alhaitham scoffed. “ people fall in love and that’s it, there’s no mystical soulmate thing behind it— think realistically kaveh. ”

“ i am thinking realistically! ” kaveh snapped back, brows furrowing. “ your so ungrateful. ”

“ and my zodiac? the fuck does that have to do with anything? ” alhaitham raised a eyebrow, but typed it down anyways.

“ i thought you believed in astrology! ”

kaveh sighed, trying to calm himself down— screaming wasn’t going to help him. he couldn’t get a another sore throat from alhaitham.

“ whatever, just put anything down at this point…”

“ i should write down ‘ lover has to be smart ’… ” alhaitham said with the faintest smile.

kaveh gave him a look.

“ it’s a joke dumb ass. ” or was it?

( 2 days later ) it was about 1:24 a.m— and for some reason alhaitham was awake watching tiktok.

i mean he couldn’t sleep because of kaveh’s loud snoring.. and he has finished his books— and didn’t exactly want to binge on his new ones all in one night.

and that’s when he got it— a silly little notification.

‘ you matched with… [ name ], [ last name ] ! congratulations!! ’

“ the fuck… ” alhaitham squinted, clicking on the notification to be brought to your profile.

he examined it for a moment, you took the same major as him and were fairly… pretty.

he stared at it for a moment longer before receiving another notification.

‘ [ name ], [ last name ] would like to chat with you! ’

of course, he quickly clicked the approve button.

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[amelee23]

Cleaning supplies... Under the moonlight | Hwang Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x reader (no pronouns used but they are wearing a swim suit)

Characters: best friend!Hyunjin, reader, David (reader’s boyfriend), Jihyo and Luna (reader’s friends) and Sharon (identity is a spoiler). None of the original characters resemble real people.

Genre: Romance, best friends to lovers, ANGST, hurt/comfort, being saved from a messy break-up, slow burn, star-crossed lovers

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: CHEATING (reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend), toxic relationship, messy break-up, crying, reader becomes very insecure, Hyunjin is there to save the day, and he’s pining hard, reader is wearing a swim suit, I have no idea how heated pools work so don’t quote me on anything, Hyunjin is a poet so; I present to you confessing feelings through love poems, Hyunjin is shirtless, swearwords, reader gets called ‘angel’, kissing, cuddles, a bit of revenge, humor, the tense change is intentional (kinda), hopelessly romantic stuff, poetic prose, metaphors galore and lots of word plays (if you catch them all I’ll give you a gold star.)

A/n: I know the first part of the story focused on the reader’s relationship with her toxic boyfriend, but Hyunjin will become the main focus after the break-up so please don’t let the beginning intimidate you. Also I worked on this an entire week lord send help

Synopsis: Your vacation was supposed to go like this: scented candles, a warm pool and the light of the moon, in hopes of fixing your relationship with your boyfriend. But the universe had other plans. After you found out he has been cheating, you bathed under the moonlight, surrounded by broken roses, being confessed in poems by your best friend Hyunjin, and you’ve never felt so whole.

You've put everything into this vacation.

And that didn't only mean money, albeit it was quite costly. You, your boyfriend and some close friends decided to rent out a vacation house with a gigantic heated pool, to at least create a fun, leisure memory before summertime slipped between your fingers and the sun would grow sad and dim once again. With the price shared by so many people, it was still quite a lot - but you didn't care, because there was more emotion put behind this vacation than mere money.

Perhaps it wasn't the healthiest of solutions, just how when a couple decided to get married to fix their relationship (which to you always seemed like such a horrid idea), you were trying something similar. You wanted this vacation with your boyfriend, David. Things between you haven't been good, that would be the simplest way to put it. His behavior changed, he became more distant, less passionate about your relationship, and one thing led to another and you were fighting because of your growing suspicions. Truth be told, you were terrified. Afraid he didn't love you anymore, afraid he found someone else to spend his nights with.

He had been everything to you, the fiber woven from your cells, the beginning and end of every breath you took - because when you loved, you didn't hold back. And it came to you so naturally, too; to love him. You've never had something so simple, so stable until you met him. But they do say every good thing must come to an end, and there's this little cricket in the back of your mind, at low volume but at an unbearable high pitch, following you every moment, whether awake or asleep. It's telling you your gut is right. Vivi (so you've nicknamed him, many months ago, when his friends were making fun of how basic the name David is) has told you a million times you had nothing to worry about. That he's just busy, or stressed, or that your love is just settling into something more calm, rather than an intense teenage-like love, like it used to be in the beginning. He's made you feel insane so many times over. Like you're just imagining things, like your insecurities are getting out of hand and you're just projecting on him, lashing out at him. You thought you deserved the pain that came with the accusations of being untrusting, immature, unconfident, inconsiderate or selfish. But you didn't, of course you didn't. You didn't deserve any of that.

You were afraid Vivi wouldn't agree to the vacation, or even if he did, he wouldn't pull through on the money part and you'd have to pay his share. You were ready to annihilate your savings account just for this one chance at a happy memory. This one chance at making things right. But surprisingly, he agreed in a heartbeat and even suggested a specific vacation house he's heard of from his friends. Not even two days later, he had all the details down, made the math of the expenses and put together the whole group chat. You thought this was it, he was actually trying again. Showing you he still does have the passion to make you happy.

You couldn't have picked out a better date for the vacation, either. The first night, it would be a full moon, with a clear sky. You were imagining it already, how magical it was going to be, soaking in a heated pool under the moonlight with David, reciting your love vows once more, like you used to do in the start of your relationship. You couldn't help how hopelessly romantic you were, you needed to let it out, confess disgustingly sappy and cheesy words of admiration. But more than that, you needed him to tell you he loves you. You needed it.

When you arrived, you were met with a stranger who had been waiting for you and your friends at the vacation house. She introduced herself as Sharon, the daughter of the owner. Since her father was busy, she was left in charge of giving you the orientation.

"I'm not going to bother you much." She assured you, her voice was low in volume and yet high in pitch. "I'm just going to give you a quick tour of the rooms and then explain to you how the pool works, and what cleaning supplies you can use just in case you need them." She was a beautiful girl, so beautiful in fact, that the cricket in the back of your mind was telling you to be envious. You couldn't quite understand it, but you brushed it off.

There were three rooms in the house, each of them with their own bathroom. It was so much more luxurious than you imagined, and suddenly it seemed odd that you paid so little for something so grand. You remembered Vivi saying something about a discount, but the memory was vague. Nevertheless, the room count was perfect. One room would belong to you and Vivi, one to Jihyo and Luna, and one to Hyunjin.

You met Jihyo through Vivi, they were coworkers at some point. But the two of you instantly clicked and became girl friends, and the more, the merrier - Luna was her adopted sister, picked up from an orphanage in Spain. She was one of the most incredible and strongest women you've ever met, and you simply adored her. It was so magical to see how the two sisters came in a package, how they looked after each other with unconditional love. You thought something like that only existed in TV shows.

And lastly, there was Hyunjin. A man, a poet, a romantic with beauty deemed worthy of a Greek tragedy. But most importantly, your best friend; your lifeline. He understood you, in ways no one ever could. Your souls were made from the same material, the same thirst of emotions of celestial scales, he saw beauty in the small things just like you did. And he has been there, day in, day out, through your ugliest moments. When you were single at prom, he turned down at least 15 girls to take you instead. When you were too broke to afford Taylor Swift tickets, he pretended to 'roam the city' with you so that you'd listen to the concert from outside the stadium. When a boy broke your heart, he'd turn your pain into the most beautiful poems, and gift them to you in journals filled with drawings of your favorite flowers. He was more than anyone could ever ask for, and you were forever grateful to have such a human in your life. The perfect best friend.

With the tour out of the way, you volunteered to go with Sharon and receive the tutorial about the pool and supplies you must use for it. She explained to you the heating mechanism (although all you needed to do was turn it on, she reassured you.) and that water might need to be replenished if you use the pool a long time since the heat makes it evaporate faster. You jutted down all you could in your notes app, and then followed her to the supply closet. She explained to you about chlorine (although half of what she said went over your head) and showed you the cleaning supplies you can use in the instance that the water becomes extremely dirty (which she knew wouldn't be the case, but she was required to let you know). By the end of it, you were starting to think your senses maybe are going insane. Sharon seemed like a very nice and gentle person, and her attitude was very bright and easygoing. You told her you were gonna take some pictures of the bottles and note down in your phone what they are, so she gave you a warm smile and left you alone in the supply closet.

After writing your own one-thousand-words heated pool manual (pictures included), you were ready to have the vacation of a lifetime. You picked out a swimsuit in Vivi's favorite color, prepared his favorite scented candles to place around the pool, and alerted your friends beforehand that you wanted the pool just for you and Vivi on the first night. It was all coming together perfectly, so you grabbed the door handle with confidence.

"I'm sure my friends wouldn't mind if I leave a little bit later. We could grab some food and then hit up that bar you like? Don't I owe you a mojito?" That was Vivi's voice. Even with the door cracked just a little, you could hear it. It was so clear. It was his voice.

"I would love to." The cricket. Low in volume, high in pitch. It was speaking - it was agreeing to go out with your boyfriend.

"And maybe, afterwards I could take you home? Would you like that?" Your eyes are closed shut. But you couldn't close your ears, unfortunately. The conversation continued, and you could imagine him whispering in her ear, looking into her eyes and tipping her chin just how he used to do with you. Tears were about to escape, so you closed them even tighter. Your lungs were burning, because you were denying them air. Holding your breath, you bit your lip, hands shaking as they gripped the wall.

"Speaking of taking something home, I have something for you-"

You finally took a breath. And you stormed towards the voices.

Your vision was blurry, but after blinking away your tears, an image formed before your eyes: David, holding out a gigantic rose bouquet towards Sharon.

The ugliest flowers you've ever seen in your life, held by the ugliest man you've ever met. He was never beautiful to begin with, right? He couldn't have. A man with such an ugly soul, how could you have been attracted to him? How could you have loved him?

He calls out your name.

"This isn't what it looks like, okay? My dad is friends with Sharon's dad, okay? We became friends by association, okay?"

Okay?  Is he asking you that, or is he asking himself if the lie is plausible?

"And these are for you, yeah?" He's walking towards you, putting the bouquet in your limp hand. "There's nothing going on between me and Sharon." The cricket, it suddenly stopped. Instead, you heard Sharon gasp and look at David in horror. She must have not known. She was also just a victim.

"Just stop it already! Enough with the lies!" You found yourself yelling, a never seen before anger bubbling underneath your skin. Your fingertips urged you towards violence, and so you slammed the roses into the floor. The petals scattered and the stems broke. Your yell must have startled the others, because soon you heard a lot of footsteps behind you - and then Sharon turned around and walked away, a hurt look in her eyes, head hanging low in shame. She was avoiding the eyes of all your friends, who were now staring at you and David.

"Okay, fine. You've gotten boring and I was no longer happy. I was going to leave you anyway." He was so nonchalant, there was no waver in his voice. That made you feel as if every time he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and his voice wavered, he wasn't honest. Only now, has he finally been honest.

And the most honest, he was when he took off in a run to chase after Sharon. To make sure she's okay. To comfort her and tell her she's the one he loves.

You fell to the floor.

And to your side, rushed no other than Hyunjin. Like always, to make sure you're okay. To comfort you and tell you you are loved.

The sobs broke out of your body and shook you violently. You were a mess of tears in just a few seconds, and you weren't going to hold back. You wailed, grabbed the roses and slammed them into the floor repeatedly.

But it was useless. They couldn't feel pain. They couldn't feel your pain. They couldn't realize what they have done to you.

Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your frame and gently lifted you to your feet.

"C'mon, let's get you in bed, yeah?" Your knees were buckling and you had no strength to stand. You were shaking your head no, like a toddler who didn't want to go back home. "We can continue crying in bed, mmm? Don't worry, I'll let you cry. I'll cry with you, angel." Your arms circled his torso, clutching his shirt between your fingers. You called out his name, and he reassured you he knows, he knows it hurts.

He carefully took your hand and dragged you away. He exchanged glances and nodded at your friends, but you didn't notice. You whispered to him, groggy in voice, that you can't go to your own room, because David's things are there. So Hyunjin took you to his room, which was the best choice for many reasons, not only so you can avoid seeing his things, but also so that he could avoid the urge of throwing David's suitcase out the window.

Hyunjin was true to his words. He sat you down in bed, and let you cry. And before he knew it, he was crying with you. He was holding you so tight, and it was so warm, and yet the shards of ice in your heart weren't melting. At first, you were angry - how could a human do something like this? Something so despicable, so vile? How could you not have realized you were in love with a monster? But then, his voice began to ring in your head. You're boring. He was going to leave you anyways. Perhaps it's you who's the problem. Perhaps you really are boring, and old-fashioned, and demanding, and idealistic, and untrusting, and immature, and too much to handle, and perhaps you should just give up because you're just un-

"Hyune, am I unlovable?" Your voice was barely there, but he heard you. He always heard you.

"Nonsense." He looked so hurt to hear you say that. "That's such nonsense." He repeated with a laugh, wiping his tears on his sleeve. "That's the most stupid thing you've ever said in your life. And you've said many stupid things, I would know." You slapped his arm in protest, but he was happy to see you chuckle.

"I mean, even if I'm not completely unlovable, Sharon is still prettier than me..." The flick of Hyunjin's fingers resonated on your forehead. You held your head in pain.

"What the hell, dude!"

"It's revenge! Every single time you say something like that, it hurts me. So I must hurt you back." You sighed. You knew he was joking, but at the same time, there was some truth behind it.

"I'm sorry, Hyune. I should have listened to you. You didn't like him since the very beginning, and you were the only one telling me my gut was right. It must have been so painful to just watch."

"It's painful to watch you now, as well." He confessed, and you felt a pang of guilt wash over you. But he pulled you back in his arms, to pet you hair lovingly. "That bastard, how dare he hurt my angel. I swear I'm gonna turn into Rapunzel's mom and lock you up in a tower so no one can ever hurt you again."

"Hmm, but doesn't pain help us grow or whatever?"

You were pretty sure Hyunjin just rolled his eyes all the way back to China.

"First of all, we all know pain just gives you more trauma. But I mean, your trauma collection is getting quite... exquisite nowadays." You smacked him again, playfully. But this time, you actually laughed. "No but seriously... there is a lesson in there somewhere. And not just to listen to me more often... to learn that you deserve more, angel." He was so close to you while he was speaking, his eyes aimed directly into yours. Your gaze wondered over him, over Hyunjin, your best friend. His chocolate eyes, sweeter than any cake you could ever eat, his vibrant lips, plumper than any wild cherry growing in the trees, his skin - like a canvas painted over the years with the brush of years and aging. His hair was long and dark, rebellious yet elegant, and the light was cascading in the room in lines, through the blinds that were semi-shut over the windows. Suddenly, there was a new sound in your mind. There was no more cricket, there was the sound of the ocean. Waves, crashing upon the shore. You were barely at the seams, the water was gently lapping at your feet; because you knew, you cannot underestimate the ocean. If you go any further, one wave is enough to push you off balance and take you into the water, like an irresistible magnet pulling you towards demise. One step, one wave, is enough. One more inch between your lips and his.

He pushed your shoulder lightly and you fell face first into the pillows.

"And if you say more mean things about yourself, I swear I'm throwing you in the pool." You reached out for the napkins on the nightstand. It was finally time to stop crying and... think about the future?

"The pool... tonight was supposed to be all romantic and perfect, with candles and the full moon on clear skies..."

"I like full moons and clear skies!" Hyunjin announced, and for some reason it made you burst into laugher. "What! It's true! The idiot would have probably not enjoyed it anyways. He has no eye for beauty. He thinks having one green wall in his grey apartment is enough for him to live 'in vibrant color'. Okay Picasso, but like why the fuck must that wall be in the kitchen?!" You look happy when you laugh. He loves seeing you happy. "You dodged a bullet, trust me. First it's the green kitchen wall, next he ignores the perfect date that his perfect girl set up for him-" His perfect girl. You heart was racing. "-and next he-"

"Tries to double tap her with the daughter of a vacation house owner. He couldn't even find the daughter of a rich CEO."

"- I was gonna say next he's the only single grandpa in a retirement home, because he's too sad of an excuse of a man, but that too." Hyunjin always did this for you, as well. He made sure to roast all of your exes until all you could think of them is burnt chicken. Until the memory of them becomes something funny, that could never hurt you again. "Plus, I'm not letting your efforts go to waste - I'm not letting you miss this chance. Let's watch the moon, together."

You nodded. What else could you do?

You decided it would be best to try to take a nap until night hit. So much crying has left you dizzy and with a headache crawling at fast speeds through your forehead and sinuses.

"Do you have any painkillers? Should I try to find a pharmacy around here?" Hyunjin offered, but you reassured him you have some in your suitcase. "Okay, wait here, I'll go get it for you- but uh, which one is yours?"

"The one that has color on it, duh." He disappeared with a giggle, around the corner.

"I will never underestimate you ever again, ma'am." He joked, placing your colorful suitcase next to the bed. He made sure none of your items were left over in the room you used to shared with David, and insisted you stay put while he brings you a glass of water.

Pills in your system, blinds closed, blanket over your shoulders, Hyunjin curled on the other side of the bed, as small as he could make himself be, so that he doesn't make you feel suffocated. But he was holding two of your fingers in his hand, from across the bed. The skin of two fingers was enough pathway for you to feel a million bodies worth of love, though.

When you woke up, he wasn't there. Nor David who was haunting you in your dreams, nor Hyunjin who was whispering poems to you to chase the nightmares away. You thought you'd be alright after crying it out, but it wasn't that easy. You woke up feeling miserable, with a heavy weight on your chest, and yet feeling so empty and hollow.

You checked your phone, and he hasn't called. You didn't know if you should feel sad or relieved about it. At least he won't chase after you again, right? It won't be another hurtful on and off. It's over. He doesn't love you anymore.

"Oh hey, you're awake- Nah ah, no more crying! You've had your fill of tears, now it's time for a fill of pizza! Get your ass to the living room, missy!" You didn't have the time to cry when Hyunjin was chasing you out of the room with a pillow.

It was a little bit awkward at first, because Jihyo and Luna didn't know if they should bring it up or just try to distract you. Eventually you bit the bullet and began to tell them about your relationship yourself. All the behavior changes, the suspicions, the hurtful words (that you now realize were manipulation) and all the lies.

"Not even his guy friends knew." Jihyo told you. She apparently told the whole group chat she was in with David's friends about what he has been doing. "He didn't just lose his girlfriend, I think he lost most of his friends by doing this."

"Thank you, Ji. For having my back." Perhaps your relationships were monster trucks, but your friends were really golden. They really looked after you.

"So!" Hyunjin announced. "Change of plans. She's having a romantic moonlit date with me, instead. So the pool is still off limits." After Luna threw what looked like a piece of olive at Hyunjin's shirt, and he screamed in your ear, eventually the sisters said they were planning on working on their DnD character sheets anyway. They were your favorite nerds.

According to your phone, the moon would begin to rise at around nine in the evening. It was just enough time for the food in your bellies to settle, while you caught up with the new videos of your favorite comedy channel. Laughter filled the room, and Jihyo and Luna made sure to cuddle the heck out of you, to distract you from that emptiness that was threatening to form into a pit in your stomach.

"So, what scented candles do you have? Something sexy and seductive?" Hyunjin asked you, wriggling his eyebrows. It made the other girls giggle.

"Apple." You answered, and the whole room deadpanned.

"In what world is apple sexy?!"

"It's his favorite!" You tried to defend yourself, but Hyunjin just scoffed.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you really needed a new boyfriend." This roast didn't make you grin. It didn't make you laugh. Instead, you looked down at the floor, a sigh shaking your body. As the seconds passed, you began to feel more and more stupid for ending up in this situation. For being so dumb as to let yourself be led on by some pretty words, and pretty eyes, that you could ever be truly loved- "Sorry." Hyunjin apologized in a panic. It just slipped, he had so much resentment bottled up for that man. "It's a good thing I brought some of mine with me. They're not exactly sexy, but they should be more fitting."

"Oh, what scent is it?"

"Ocean." Ocean, the waves that are lapping at your feet. They're calling you over.

Hyunjin was calling you over, to see if you like the smell of the candles. You had gone through too many emotions today: the anger, the sadness, the insecurities, and now this anxiety. Or was it thrill? If you put your ear on Hyunjin's chest, would you be able to hear the waves?

"I'm going to go set these up." He announced, and you nodded.

"I'll get changed." With a skip to his step, Hyunjin walked out and closed the door to give you privacy. You're not even in the water yet, and you already feel like you're drowning.

You fished out your swim suit from your luggage and laid it out on the bed before you. You actually bought this - spent so much money on it - got it in his favorite color - for a man who was cheating on you. You were really regretting not having brought an alternative with you. You couldn't just walk out in underwear and a shirt, right? Better not. You grit your teeth and put it on, but made a mental note to 'accidentally' start a dumpster fire, and 'accidentally' drop the swim suit in it after tonight.

When you were done changing, you found Hyunjin out by the pool. Somehow, he managed to turn it on by himself since you could already see steam coming off of it. He arranged two candles around one corner of the pool (since he only had two) and was probably waiting for you to arrive.

"Oh, angel. That color does not suit you." Hyunjin had always been quite picky when it came to fashion. He had his 'disgusted fashion designer' face on.

"I know, it's-"

"Let me guess, his favorite color? I've seem vomit more vibrant than that." You snorted at the comment. The color was, in fact, quite horrible. "If I wouldn't know how much money you probably spent on that, I'd tell you to set it on fire." You laughed. Great minds think alike.

"I was thinking the same thing." After exchanging grins, Hyunjin seemed to fall into thought. He had that look in his eyes that told you there was a complicated process going on in his mind.

"I'll buy you a new one." Surprised, you cocked an eyebrow at him as you approached the side of the pool he was at. You scooted next to the scented candle he lit, and sat down on the edge. "Careful you don't burn you butt." He joked, and you rolled your eyes at him. The candle wasn't even close to touching you. The water was very warm and calming, you noticed, when you dipped your feet in. It made you want to move even closer to the edge so that your tired ankles would be soothed.

"You don't need to buy me a new one. What would I use it for? I don't think I'll be at any pool again any time soon." A rosy petal tickled your toes and you realized the bouquet had somehow ended up in the water. There were petals and tiny white flowers scattered all around the corner of the pool. It would have been a beautiful sight, if it wasn't so tragic.

"Well, maybe I have been secretly planning a weekend trip to Jeju island for you and I." That surely caught you off guard. You barely had any money left after this vacation, you wouldn't be able to afford a trip to Jeju. He wasn't planning on paying for it all by himself, right?

"I mean, that sounds lovely, Hyune." You replied, even if you had some financial disagreements to talk about later. "But it's september! I don't think I'll be walking around in a swimsuit at the beach in this weather. It's getting chilly." The air was quite cold, you've noticed it ever since the morning. The sun didn't have the same strength as a few days ago - but thankfully the heat coming off of the pool was making it bearable to be out just in a swim suit.

"First of all, summer is a feeling, not a season. And second, I'll just get you one for next summer." Next summer - you almost forgot. To Hyunjin, highschool with you was barely yesterday, and next summer should be in two days. A year was nothing to him when he promised you forever.

"Okay." You replied quietly, swooshing the water around with your feet. You were scared to look him in the eyes, because suddenly you felt so vulnerable. You could trust his idea of forever, right?

"Okay!" He replied with a much brighter note. "With that settled, I'll go get changed for our pool adventure." He walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts, and the subtle smell of the ocean. It was still calling you, but now you could hear it clearer. You could smell it clearer. One more step, one more inch of your skin under the water, and perhaps you could feel it clearer, too.

The wait would have been agonizing if you hadn't made a friend in the moon as soon as you found it in the sky. She - the moon has always been a she to you - was looking absolutely astonishing . For a second, a very silly second, you thought the moon had done a better job at dressing up for a romantic date than you did. You searched around for the evening star as well, the brightest, most beautiful star in the sky. You hoped if the moon was going on a date tonight, it would be with the evening star. For he was a strong man to always keep his light so bright, to always manage to guide the sailors lost in the night-

Hyunjin came back with a few tiny packages in his hand. He was shirtless; and from waist down he wore swim trunks, an ombre from blue, to light blue, to white. With the way the sky was reflected in the pool, you would think he was trying to blend in with the water.

"Choco?" He nudged you, offering you a golden foil. You took one from him happily, and watched him as he took off an elastic band from his wrist to put his hair up in a messy ponytail. The chocolate he offered you was very delicious, and you guessed also probably very fancy. Hyunjin never held back when it came to pleasing the senses. But you wondered, how come he's offering you something sweet? Wasn't the ocean supposed to be salty?

He also ate a chocolate quietly next to you. The silence was getting heavy, which was very odd. Silence was always comforting next to him, but now, the less he spoke the more you felt confused and lost at sea.

"The bouquet ended up in the water." You told him, trying to make any sort of small talk. He hummed, put away the foil of the sweet treat he consumed, and eased himself fully into the pool. As soon as he was in, he let out a soulful sigh. He adored warm water, and you could tell from his body language, from the way his shoulders slumped and his neck craned to stare at the night sky, jaw wide open in admiration - that Hyunjin was in a happy place. Was it just you who was nervous, then?

To your surprise, Hyunjin pushed through the water all the way to the corner where the bouquet was floating about. He picked it up, and began to crush the flowers in his hand so that the petals would fall. He left the stems empty, and then threw them out of the pool. With powerful motions, he made the water roll in waves, so that the petals would scatter throughout the entire pool.

"Now it's just part of the decorum." He said with a giggle. He approached you, and his hand was warm and welcoming when it gently touched your knee. "Forget who they're from." As he beckoned you to join him in the water, you wanted to let those words hypnotize you. Allow the pain to fade to the background.

You join him in the water, and it embraces you like you were meant to be held in someone's arms your entire life. Even though you are surrounded by those petals - those empty promises, those broken parts of your heart - something inside of you is healing. You are no longer putting meaning or significance onto them. They no longer hold you captive. For that tiny moment, everything is as it should be: there is no other place you should have been. No other person you should have been. And no other person - besides your best friend with a dizzying smile - should have accompanied you that night. It was the universe's plan, and no one could be blamed for that.

The universe is vast. As you look up, through the thousands of celestial bodies before you, you can't pin point any to curse in grief and woe. Furthermore, you can't even name this strange feeling of acceptance. It had just appeared in your heart. 

"The sky is so beautiful." You mumble, and Hyunjin almost surprises you when he hums. He looks just as awestruck as you do, and you know for a fact he was the one meant to join you. You watch the rise and fall of his chest, the deep breaths he takes as he says absolutely nothing. He is in a trance, and you are entranced by him.

"The moon and stars are shining for you, my love" You hear him say, but it was quiet, like he wasn't sure of his own words.

"For all that is up there, up above,

In the gentle skies of angels and sinners:

The moon rays and the cheeky glimmers," He takes a pause, as if to rest for a heartbeat and let himself smile.

"They're all but lights to make your eyes shine -

And help you see yourself in mine."

"That's beautiful, Hyune." You complimented. You wondered just how many poems he had stored in his mind and heart. Would you need a library pass to find out? "Who's it from?"

"Oh, he's not a published author." He replied cheekily. "Although he wishes he could be." From the shy yet smug look on his face, it was easy to piece it together.

"Did you write it?"

"Mhm."

"Like, on the spot? Just now?"

"Mhm."

You're absolutely insane!" You tell him with a gentle slap to the arm. He giggles and your heart melts. "I swear there's no human being more talented than you." He looks down at the water and something peculiar sparkles in his eyes. Something naughty, like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to and yet he's unaware, he's proud of the mistake he's done.

"Well, it wouldn't be possible without you." You stare at him in confusion. Is he trying to thank you for supporting him and his passion for poetry? For the validation and reassurance you offer him when he works? It goes without question that you would be supporting your best friend- "Do you want me to recite the poem to you again?" You're confused and caught off guard. Frankly you have no idea what is going on, so you just shrug your shoulders awkwardly.

"Sure, I guess."

While Hyunjin has been standing to your side this entire time, leaning back on the edge of the pool, the scented candle between you two, now he moved to stand before you. He was blocking the moon, invading your senses, a dim light hugging his silhouette.

"The moon and stars are shining for you, my love" He's looking in your eyes, and his hands move to grip the edge of the pool on either side of you head. Your lungs are burning.

"For all that is up there, up above" He looks towards the sky for a split second, and then he looks back at you, his eyes clouding with mist.

"In the gentle skies of angels and sinners:" He searches for you hand in the water, and with the most gentle pull, he brings it to his lips to kiss your fingers. A rose petal slips off of you arm and back into the water.

"The moon rays and the cheeky glimmers," He's smiling. He's in his happy place, and yet, you don't know how to accept that the weight of the ocean isn't trying to harm you.

"They're all but lights to make your eyes shine -"  Was he seeing the moon in your eyes?

"And help you see yourself in mine." You were in his eyes. You were. It just took you so many years to see it.

"The moon and stars are shining for me?" You ask; you had to make sure. Your hands were shaking, and a chill ran down your spine.

"My love." He completed the lyric, and you were trying so so hard, to find oxygen in your lungs.

This was exactly were you were afraid of - that one step closer, the ocean waves would take you away, and you'd fall into the dark depths - and ultimately drown. "I'm in love with you." You hear him say. "I know you've been through so many emotions already, and this is just not the right time, because I don't wanna seem like I'm taking advantage of the situation and trying to be some sort of savior to you, but I really am in love with you and I can't stand watching you suffer-"

One of your favorite quotes you've ever read, by a person named Irtiqa Nabi, was 'The sea speaks more honestly to those willing to drown'.

You just had to be willing.

You just had to understand.

You don't need the oxygen.

You take one more, final breath and reach out to kiss Hyunjin before he rambled away all night. His hands fly to embrace you, to cradle your face, to shield you with his body. 

It was the most terrifying leap of faith you've ever made, but you finally realized the ocean wasn't evil. It wasn't trying to take your life away or rob you of your heart. No, the ocean was this being full of life, full of warmth; he wanted you to dive beyond the surface. He wanted you to uncover his mysteries. And he loved you so much. 

"Wait." Hyunjin pulls away, dazed and with unfocused eyes. He bites his lip. "Are you sure about this? Once you allow me to love you, I won't stop. I don't let go." You look up at him and smile. No matter how many times you tell him, it'll never be enough: he's so beautiful. But tonight, something is different. He's exactly how the universe wanted him to be. Exactly where the universe wanted him to be. So naturally, only poetry could describe the beauty of a man who had found his destiny.

"Make me you last love, Hyunjin." You plead, and his eyes fill with both admiration and tears.

"Oh, I will." He cradles you so gently, and yet so tightly. His long fingers are enveloping your face, his body is swallowing yours like the tide, and he kisses you, again and again. And with each one, you gain life, you gather courage, a new constellation is born inside of you. Astrologers could only dream of uncovering all those new-born stars.

He drags you into the middle of the pool, and guides your legs around his waist. He holds you with ease, and from this angle, when you look down at him all you see is joy. But he hides in your neck, and finds another happy place in there.

You rest your head on his shoulder and look up the sky. The moon rose to a higher position, and she looks so calm, so all-knowing as she beams on you. She knew what was going to happen already, and now she was grinning at you slyly.

"Can you see the moon from there?" Hyunjin asks you, and you hum.

"Mhm. But you can't, can you?" It's not like he's trying, his eyes are closed as he cradles you.

"No, just tell her I said hi." You laugh. You wonder just for how long, has the moon known Hyunjin's secret? "I've got my own night sky right here." He says, as he hugs you even tighter, squeezing you to his chest like you're his childhood teddy bear.

"Cheesy." You mutter, but you place a kiss just underneath his ear. That ear begins to burn, and then his whole face is red (that's why he's hiding it away) and Hyunjin thinks he'll never grow used to it. In fact, he promises himself he won't. He promises to always allow himself to be surprised by just how much you mean to him. Over and over again.

Minutes turn to hours, just like days always turned to years around Hyunjin. Eventually you climb out of the pool to not turn into raisins - but you still continue to be tangled with each other, making up for all the kisses you've missed for all those years you've kept each other at arm's length. It feels like a pipe dream to call him yours, to kiss his lips that felt like clouds, look into his eyes that filled with lightning, listen to the words filled with thunder. And yet, his heartbeat still spoke to you in calm waves-

You and Hyunjin jump from your seats at the sound of something loudly popping. You frantically look around for the sound, and you see Jihyo and Luna, holding a confetti tube towards you. The sparkly paper falls to the floor, while some are carried by the wind towards you.

"Congratulations!" The two cheer, and you can't help but snort. Where did they even get confetti from?

"Now that the cat's outta the bag, the asshole is out of the picture and you're finally dating the right guy-" Luna almost sounds like she's rapping while she rambles, and everyone carries amusement on their faces. "And this guy can stop whining in my ear about how much he wants you-" You turn towards Hyunjin in shock, and he tries to make himself small and hide. He fails. "We can finally have some nice, family fun!"

"I thought we agreed you'd let us have the pool tonight!" Hyunjin argues, but Luna tuts in response.

"So I can just watch you two make out from afar? Nah, I wanna see it in person." With the look of an almost psycho, Luna grabs your leg and pulls you into the pool with her. She splashes you wildly in the face, and soon Jihyo and Hyunjin join you in a water fight even a toddler would easily win.

After a while a whole lot of fun, you approach Jihyo for a light conversation while the other two are struggling to inflate a beach ball.

"Have you known for a long time?"

"About Hyunjin's feelings? No, it was Luna who knew. I didn't know until tonight, honestly."

Hyunjin has been confiding in Luna, it seems. She was the only one who knew his secret - or well, maybe she wasn't. You look up at the moon, and then back at Luna, and something seems to make you laugh.

It is very late into the night, and yet you are all still awake. It came to the point where you had to leave the water, but Luna stops in the middle of the hallway and blocks the path.

"Hey, didn't that girl teach you stuff about cleaning the pool and all?"

You didn't even remember her name by this point.

"Yeah, why?"

"So what cleaning supplies should one use, let's say, if the pool becomes dirty with... An entire luggage worth of clothes and stuff?"

"What?" Hyunjin asks, breaking into a wild laugh, but he feels as if he already knows what Luna is about to say.

"Let's throw David's stuff into the pool." You display a look of horror, but when you look at Hyunjin, you see him comically dash into the house.

You're too dazed to even register when the suitcase showed up in front of your face. All three of your peers attacked the zippers like wild hyenas, and soon your ex's clothes are sent flying into the pool.

"Even his underwear is ugly." Hyunjin says, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it as far as he could into the pool. "I'm gonna need hand sanitizer after this."

You start to enjoy it after a while. Sure, you still tell them to not throw anything electric or expensive in there, like his earphones or watch, but you are the one to chuck his toothbrush in the pool and watch it sink to the bottom.

"Revenge is best served wet, baby." Luna pretends to dust off her hands and leaves the scene of the crime with a deadly hair flip.

Giggling like a bunch of school girls, you part ways to go quickly shower the chlorine away from your bodies. Then you reunite, clad in your comfiest pj's, and cuddle to Hyunjin's chest to listen to the sound of the ocean waves.

"Angel?" He calls out to you, and you look at him with hazy eyes. "Would it be weird or overwhelming if I told you I love you?"

"No." You shake your head and giggle. It's not that it was new information to you, but it did hold a new meaning now. A meaning - you found - you were always craving to reciprocate. Why have you been searching for Hyunjin in all of those people, when he was right there with you, petting your hair and making you feel alive?

"And would it be weird or overwhelming if I said that to you every night?"

"No, I would like that actually." You reach up to kiss him. He welcomes it and chases after your lips, and it's such a new high, that you wish it to turn into a habit.

"Okay." He whispers. "I love you."

"I love you." You reply. You don't say 'me too', you don't say 'i love you too'. Because this is not an action that he does and you copy. No, you love him all on your own. It's so crazy, that you love him independently, and he loves you independently, and yet when you're put together, you form the same constellation.

It's a good thing Hyunjin locked the door, because somewhere around five in the morning you got woken up by loud banging on your door, your handle being shaken erratically and an array of swear words. Hyunjin woke up as well, and you both tried to stifle your giggles, because that night you heard swearwords and insults you didn't even know existed.

By afternoon, when you got out of your room, he was completely gone. Turns out he collected his clothes from the pool and left with them soaking in a garbage bag. Luna had snuck out in the morning to record a video of David, trying and failing repeatedly to fish out his clothes with the stick end of a broom. You laughed so hard it brought you to tears, and when you went outside to check, you saw the only thing left, was a chlorine infused toothbrush sitting sad and depressed at the bottom of the pool.

You blocked him and threw away the memory of him into the sea. You knew the sea would be mean to him, drown him out and silence him. Because the universe wanted someone else to love you.

The moon, the stars, and all the eight seas;

They whispered to you that you had found your destiny.

Please leave some feedback if you have the time and energy!

If you like my work, you can donate to me on my Ko-Fi so I can continue writing!

©amelee23 do not copy or repost.

[saphira-artandoc]

Behold… a project that began back in October 5th 2022…

C3 Swap AU

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I am nothing if not predictable

What is the swap AU?

The swap AU was created due to my love of that genre (If you followed me in my Persona phase, you know what I mean)

It was a way for me to practice my craft as time goes on and to this day, I’m still learning. It’s also an excuse for me to draw pretty outfits

It was also inspired by Eren Angiolini’s CR swapped classes (mainly VM and MN back then) before their own rendition of Bell’s Hells, done in 2023

The difference between my version and Eren’s is that instead of swapping DnD classes (Fighter -> Paladin) , we changed their subclasses (Fighter : Battle master -> Fighter : Eldritch knight). Some of these were taken from completely made up thanks to a homebrew list of subclasses

The entire creation of this AU is a group effort from various members of the Dorym Nation discord server. We did not plan for it to work as well as it did as episode rolled by. We did it mostly on vibes and somehow made everyone’s backstory sadder (oops)

Why making this post now?

With campaign 3 coming close to an end, I felt like it was finally time for me to face my fears and show the people what 2 years of creation do to someone, without any remorse for showing enjoyment in a piece of media.

I also struggle with showcasing my work in the last couple of years to a wider audience, especially with the rise in A/I art and N/F/T that just destroyed me mentally. This is why you don’t see much art posting from me

Also every time I thought I had a breather with art, shit just kept happening in the canon game and it really just spiralled to what we have today… Mind you this was created around episode e20 so we didn’t know everything about the characters back then… We were so close but had to change some stuff and add something else… I love the creative process <3

What did you mean by “you made everyone’s backstory sadder?”

When you go into a project made on vibes, you kiiiiind of mix-match a couple of ideas together. With the Swap AU, not only did we swap their subclasses, but we also swapped elements of their backstories with another member of their group. You will see it with everyone’s post.

Wait so you’re not sharing the art yet? Why not?

My goal with this post is to give you guys a small introduction to the AU. I know this will be at the very least 10 post in total minus this one since I’m hoping to give each Hellions their very own Tumblr posts

I am also a perfectionist and I want to give the best quality possible when posting the artworks. I am in the making of creating front facing reference sheets of each member of BH with max 6 different clothes ( EXU or start of the campaign, ball, outfit 2, current one, and for those with specific body transformations get that illustrated also)

There is already existing art of the AU that was created by @czpeterp that you can see here! (Their art is amazing, go check them out!!)

I have Fearne and Chetney’s that are complete, and Imogen is the next one in line. Expect for a post about them coming really soon (hopefully tomorrow)

That’s all for now! Sorry for all the rambling lmao, I do hope I piqued your curiosity and I’ll see you (hopefully) tomorrow morning for our first Swapped character: Fearne Calloway!

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Somehow, Through the Storm

Summary:

Living in the slums of the Warehouse District, Kaz and Inej are struggling to cling on to life through a seemingly unending winter. Wrapped up in a stranger's overcomplicated marriage contract that he is convinced is key to solving the merciless weather, Kaz remains busy and distracted for days on end, putting everything else at risk. So when a storm ravages the city and sweeps Inej into danger, the offer of safety, food, and a place to stay is an overwhelming one - no matter the cost. Terrified of mounting threats, Inej signs a contract - not knowing she would land herself trapped at the Menagerie. Kaz signs a contract that states if he can walk all the way through the city and back to the Warehouse District with Inej behind him, never looking back at her, they will both go free. But this is the Barrel, the darkest part of the city where the rules of physics can change with the stroke of a pen; the journey back will not be the same as journey there…

This is a Hadestown-inspired reimagining of the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, casting Kaz and Inej as our main characters and heavily featuring our beloved Crows, set in an alternate version of the Grishaverse with a different magic system based entirely on contracts.

Tags: @lunarthecorvus @marielaure @multi-fandom-bi @igotthisaccountunderduress @thelibraryofalexandriastillburns @devoted-people-hater @spraypaintstainonawhitewall

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list let me know <3

Warnings for this chapter: homelessness, implied threats, food scarcity, implied loss of parents/family/loved ones

AO3 link:

NOTE: I know I said that the first two chapters would come out today and I am still hoping to get chapter 2 out later on today but I'm not 100% that will be possible as I have a lot more left to write than I initially anticipated, but it will at least be coming soon!

Chapter 1 - Inej

Some flowers bloom where the green grass grows; our praise is not for them, but the ones who bloom in the bitter snow. We raise our cups to them

- We Raise Our Cups, Hadestown 

This is an old story. It has been told many times, in many ways, with many different faces, and yet we tell it again. This is a sad story. And yet, we tell it anyway. That’s our role, in all of this, and we are nothing if we do not fulfil it. This time, it started - as Inej’s stories seemed to have begun to do so with concerning frequency - with getting kicked out. 

“No- please, wait-” her pleas were cut off by the dull, painful thud of a bag being hurled into her chest. 

She gasped, winded, and as she stumbled backwards her foot slipped from the top step. Hendrija huffed what might have been a short, breathy laugh as she watched Inej fall, but Inej managed to regain at least some of her dignity as she rebalanced on the gravel. She was shorter than Hendrija anyway, and glaring up at the older woman standing above her on the porch she felt incredibly aware of her smallness. 

“Move on,” Hendrija jutted her chin vaguely down the street, “You ain’t wanted here, girl,”

“Please, Hen, I swear I’ll get you the money-”

“No you won’t,”

“I will,” she promised, “Please, just a couple of days, I swear, I just need a couple of days, I’ll get you-”

“Three months. I gave you three months grace, and I haven’t seen a cent. You’re done, now get off my property before I call the stadwatch,”

“No, Hendrija- Hendrija!”

The door slammed in front of Inej’s nose and she screamed her frustration at the apathetic panels. That was it, then: she had officially been thrown out of every hostel in Ketterdam. Brilliant. 

There was, unbeknownst to Hendrija, almost one hundred kruge tightly hand sewn into an inside pocket of Inej’s jacket - but last time she’d tried to pay her with ‘that type of cash’ Hendrija had refused it. 

“You don’t come in here and give me someone else’s money, girl,”

“I didn’t-”

“You earn some money for a room here, or you don’t keep one. You got it?”

Inej wasn’t sure what else Hendrija expected her to pay with, though. There weren’t any jobs to find. Not now. Not ever.  

“Fine,” she’d said, “I’ll earn something. How’d you-?”

“You think I don’t know you ain’t worked a day since you got here?” Hendrija nodded to the purple bills tucked between Inej’s fingers, “Where’d you get it?”

Inej squared her shoulders, pretending not to feel the pit crumbling inside her stomach, as she told her where the money was from out loud and apologised, again, to her Saints inside her head. Hendrija’s cheeks blanched. 

“At the very least, lass, if you’re gonna steal, don’t steal from him. Nasty way to go, when he gets to you - and he will. Always does,”

Inej had given her a sincere nod, then brushed off the conversation without another thought. It didn’t matter what anyone she stole from might do if they caught her, because they wouldn’t catch her. No-one ever did. 

She lingered for a brief moment on the porch of the rooming house, as though Hendrija might open the door and say that she’d changed her mind, or that was only teasing and oh dear, Inej, don’t you take things too seriously. But, of course, she didn’t. Inej didn’t really want her to, she supposed, other than that it would be easier than trying to find somewhere else to sleep tonight. She shouldered her bag, appalled to feel herself stagger slightly beneath the weight. When had she last eaten? There was nearly a hundred kruge sewn into her jacket, yes, but she hadn’t dared to touch it yet. It had only been hers for a couple of days. Inej wasn’t exactly an expert, but she thought it might be best to wait a while before she used it in case someone got wise somehow. The last thing she needed was to end up in a prison cell. 

Although, an upsettingly convincing voice added inside her head, at least it would be a place to sleep. Somewhere dry, with a pillow and a blanket. Somewhere she could stay still, lie down and close her eyes, eat once - maybe even more than once - a day and never have to feel the wind. Inej almost laughed out loud at herself. What had she become? What had this city turned her into? She used to be good. Now she would do anything for a bed, for food, for a roof the weather couldn’t chase her through. 

A gust of wind prickled down the back of Inej’s neck, sending a shiver running over her, and she reached to turn her collar up against the breeze. It was going to rain soon, she was sure. Where was she going to sleep tonight? She sighed into her jacket, creating a brief pocket of warmth, and began to walk. Prayers first, then food, if she could find something. She had hours until sundown. She’d figure something out. 

The Saints didn’t require a Chapel to hear their prayers, but there was a small one in the North of the Warehouse District for anyone who preferred an organised service. Inej attended when she could - she tried to light incense for her parents at least once a week, but more realistically did so about once a month, maybe twice if they were lucky. She leant against the wall of the building next to the hostel, just out of sight if Hendrija was sticking her nose out of the window, and began to dig through her measly bag of belongings. Should she change her clothes to go to Chapel? Her only other shirt and trousers were probably no cleaner than the ones she was wearing, but she ran a comb through her hair and did her best to pull it into a quick, neat braid. At least she’d tried to make an effort. She didn’t think her Saints cared, but people definitely did. 

There was a little matchbox in her bag as well, but when she slid it open with trembling fingers she was overcome with the sudden desire to scream and hurl it into the street when she discovered it was empty. She settled for holding it so tightly that the thin card crumpled in her fist, then shoving it back into the bag. She could just leave it for the day; find something to eat and start looking for a place to stay, try to buy matches once the money in her pocket felt safe. But when had she last been to Chapel? Not for several weeks. She couldn’t not go, and she couldn’t afford to turn the matches into an excuse not to return. Her parents deserved better than that. They deserved better than any of this. 

She sighed again as she stood back up from the wall and slung her bag across her shoulders, then ventured slowly into the street. It was busy, or busy enough anyway, and she knew that everyone here would have just seen her and Hendrija arguing on the porch bare moments ago so she wasn’t really expecting much when she wove into the crowd, going unnoticed until she parted her lips to venture: 

“Excuse me? Does anyone have a match?”

People glanced down at her, or between themselves, all with the same expression as they stepped away and a ring of space was created around Inej. She tried to step forwards and, as though she were a drop of oil in water, wherever she moved the strangers stepped away from her, pace for pace. 

“Please, sir,” she tried, turning to try and focus her quiet appeal on the closest individual, “Would you happen to-?”

He shook his head, turning away. Inej dug her fingers deeply into the cuff of her sleeve as she watched him pull a cigarette from his pocket as he walked away. She tried again, and then again. 

“Please,” she said, again, as the crowd parted around her, “I’m sorry, but does anyone have a match that I could use?”

From behind the shape of someone’s dusty red coat as they moved away, a boy appeared in Inej’s field of vision. He looked up and caught her eye, then seemed to sigh as he beckoned her towards him with one gloved hand - the other remaining secure over the carved handle of the cane he leant against. He was taller than her but Inej would guess they were a similar age, though his face was aged by the little scars that crossed his pale skin.

“I can help you,”

Inej paused.

At the very least, lass, if you’re gonna steal, don’t steal from him. 

Inej had stolen from him twice. The first time nothing happened, except for Hendrija refusing the money - as if her boarding house weren’t full of criminals and as if she didn’t damn well know it - but if he’d gotten wise? What if someone at the house overheard something and passed it on? She swallowed tightly. 

“I didn’t ask for help. I asked for a match,”

“I can give you a match,” he said, reaching one of those leather-clad hands into his pocket, “I can also help you,”

Inej frowned. For a moment she studied the matchbox that he held out between them, and then it was in her hand and the boy was pulling away and she didn’t know why but it felt like something… something had happened.  The air felt calmer now. She was part way through sliding the box open when he said: 

“You have ninety three kruge in your jacket,”

Inej’s head snapped up. 

“Excuse me?”

“Ninety three kruge,” he repeated, “That’s how much you have, isn’t it?”

“Wh-?”

“That’s how much you have. That’s how much you took from me, three days ago,”

Alarm bells started ringing inside Inej’s head. There was probably very little point in lying now, and her brain was already trying to click through what to do, how she could get out of here, where she might be able to run - he probably wouldn’t be able to keep up with her with his limp, and he almost certainly wouldn’t be able to climb up a building after her. If she could just make it to a rooftop she could disappear, run until her legs ached, then find a nook somewhere in the skyline to fall asleep and pray the rain wouldn’t be too heavy. But what after that? If he knew well enough to track her here, to a house she’d been tossed from under the safety of a false name, would she ever be able to safely walk these streets again? Maybe if she found somewhere to stay on the rooftops she would be okay - there were plenty of nooks that could form a snippet of shelter, the stadwatch would never rouse her from them, she could steal food from market stalls and storefronts, and finally become fully invisible. No-one would ever have to know that she was there. 

But even as these thoughts occurred to her the boy shifted, ever so slightly but definitely intentionally, and a shape that looked very much like a pistol appeared and disappeared between the folds of his immaculate coat. She twisted her fingers around the little box of matches. 

“You’ve got the wrong girl,”

“Have I?”

His voice was rough, like two stones being scraped together to form words. 

“Believe me,” said Inej, slipping the matchbox casually into her pocket, as though he wouldn’t notice, “If I had ninety kruge I wouldn’t be hanging around here,”

She turned away. 

“Ninety three,” the boy corrected, “And I’ll have that back, if you don’t mind,”

Inej hid the brief, disappointed scrunch of her nose before she spun and tossed the matchbox back to him. 

“And the cash?”

“I told you, it wasn’t me,”

The boy shook his head. 

“I suppose Inej Ghafa must live elsewhere then,” he said, and she knew he’d noticed when she tensed at the sound of her name, “Shame. I was going to offer her a job,”

“Who are you?”

He smiled. 

“Maybe I’ll tell you,” he said, “if you tell me how you managed to get in and out of a house with no-one ever seeing you and yet only took ninety three kruge,”

Inej frowned, thinking of the rundown house and its leaky ceiling, up to three sleeping bodies pushed into every room but the attic. The attic was this boy’s domain, and he didn’t share his space with anyone, but it was still not the kind of place that looked prosperous; a door had been balanced on its back atop stacked crates to form a makeshift desk, there was no running water but a slender basin that must have been carried in and out to be refilled at least once a day, uneven and creaking floorboards, a worn down mattress with no bed frame or sheet, a blanket without a quilt. She’d thought finding an entire ninety kruge in those rooms was a miracle. 

“There was more?”

“If you knew where to look. A proper thief would have found plenty to take,”

Something in that comforted Inej, just the tiniest bit. She was not a proper thief, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be one. 

“How did you get in?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I was there,” he shook his head, “I didn’t hear you. I didn’t see you. Not until-”

“Until I spoke,” said Inej, the memory returning to her. 

She hadn’t known there was anyone close enough to hear her when she slipped the money into her pocket and thanked her Saints out loud. The boy nodded. Inej tracked through her movements in her mind, trying to work out where the boy must have been - outside the room, she supposed, on his way up the stairs perhaps? That didn’t feel right, though, because surely she would have heard his footsteps - at the least the sound of his cane. She drew the floorplan of the attic in her mind; it was barely smaller than the other floors of the house, partitioned part way through with a wall that stretched over half the width of the room to create a more private space for sleeping. Maybe he’d been behind the wall. There was only a very small window on that side of the room, it was where the slope of the roof divided it the most, and Inej hadn’t inspected that tiny slither of glass before she slipped through the larger window on the other side of the room. Idiot, she thought, fingers tensing as she tried to study the deceptive change in the boy’s eyes, what have you done now? 

“I had no idea you were there, until then. How is that possible?”

Inej shrugged. She’d wanted to be silent so she had been, why did that matter? The matter at hand, as far as she cared, was why he hadn’t apprehended her when he heard her - and what he might want from her now. There was some kind of angle here, of course, she just didn’t know what it was. 

“No-one ever does,” she told him, “Who are you?”

“Were you trained as a dancer?”

“An acrobat. My family… all of us are acrobats,” 

Were acrobats. 

“It’s your turn to answer a question now. Who are you?”

The boy smiled again. 

“You already know that. You just don’t want to say it,”

A beat passed. 

“Dirtyhands,”

“I prefer Kaz,” he said as he conceded a nod, smoothly but not quite relaxed enough to not raise Inej’s suspicions, “I found two names for you. I assume Inej Ghafa is the real one?”

She nodded. Why bother lying? She had not known, when she slipped through a window several months ago, who it was that she was stealing from. Would she have done it, if she’d known? She wasn’t sure it would’ve stopped her - it hadn’t stopped her three days ago, had it? She hadn't known he was in the building though, or she might have been careful enough not to part her lips. 

“Is that what you’d prefer to be called?”

Inej nodded again, without taking her eyes away from Kaz’s. 

“Is Kaz Brekker your real name?”

“Real enough. Do you feel like giving me my money back, Inej?”

Not particularly, she thought, as she released a small sigh and stuck her thumb into her jacket to burst the ugly stitches she’d made around her stash. As soon as Kaz had laid gloved fingers onto the notes they vanished in a smooth folding motion of his palm, and in their place a small card was raised between the pair. 

“If you want a more reliable income, come to this address for eight bells tomorrow evening. I’ve got a job for you,”

Inej shook her head. 

“You can leave the recruitment kit at home,” she told him, “I’m just passing through,”

“You’ve been here seven months,”

There was a pause. 

“I came to pass the winter,” she ventured, “but-”

“But it isn’t ending,”

Inej nodded. Winters had been getting longer in Ravka, the spring short and the summer unbearably hot, but it was worse here than anywhere she’d travelled to across the Eastern Continent. Seven months in Kerch had passed in a twist of frozen ground, dead flowers, howling winds, and endless storms. 

“There’s something wrong with the weather,”

The weather has no mercy.

Kaz gave no reply but a nod, as if that was an explanation all alone. He was still holding out the card between them, and after a moment Inej reached out. Her bare fingers brushed briefly against the leather of his gloves, and then the card was in her hand and his was dropping away. She forced her eyes away from the dark, endless pools of his, and studied the words on the card for a moment. 

“I don’t read Kerch,”

“You know where Bloemstraat is?”

She shook her head. 

“Meet me at the Slat, then - I know you know where that is,” he almost smiled as he added that, “Seven bells half chime, tomorrow evening,”

A moment passed. 

“I’ll be there. But you should know: I’ll leave when spring comes,”

Kaz laughed, short and coarse, almost taking her by surprise. 

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes,”

He shook his head. 

“You really don’t know Ketterdam, do you? There’s no spring coming, not here. Barely to Kerch at all; not anymore,”

Not at all? Inej faltered. 

“What do you mean?”

“You heard me,”

“Why?”

“Why does anything happen around here? The world’s been thrown off kilter,”

Inej shook her head. 

“You should get out of this city. There’s a storm coming; this place isn’t worth sticking around for. Not through that,”

Kaz laughed again. 

“No-one leaves this city,”

He turned away, taking only a few steps before he glanced back over his shoulder to say:

“Oh, and Inej? Don’t ever steal from me again. And definitely don’t sneak up on me,”

Inej watched him leave, clutching two matchsticks and a slip of paper between her fingers, wondering what had just happened. 

[tojisbbygworl]

Just For The Night - Hobie Brown x Black!Punk!Reader epilogue

Summary: Two anarchists thought one night was all they had. Only one of them accepted it.

Characters: Mentioned-Miguel, Gwen

Featured-Hobie, Miles

Words: 4,090

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Angst, Bittersweet, Hurt/Comfort, Hobie needs a hug, Sexually Explicit Thoughts, Mentions of Sex, Yandere if you squint, Doesn’t follow ATSV events, Miles/Gwen 17+, Hobie and You 21+Yearning, The authors barely disguised obsession with Older Brother Hobie/Younger Brother Miles head cannon, Slight OOC

author’s note: the moment y’all have been waiting for, the angsty epilogue and the FINAL part to JFTN. This lil series was very fun to imagine and I’m gonna miss these two, Ik y’all will too.

Okay have fun hope y’all cry!

Part 1 Part 2

AO3 Version

My AO3

Masterlist

"Come on...come on..." Hobie's tongue rested on his upper lip as he concentrated on finishing his latest project...his own interdimensional watch.

It was easy, really. There's so much tech laying around HQ that Miguel won't notice a couple gadgets missing from his arsenal. Hobie was a master of pick-pocketing and Miguel should know better. In fact, he should have expected this, what with being the leader of an elite group of superpowered geniuses. He bets he's not even the only one who's made their own and everyone else is just keeping it under wraps. Or at least, that what he tried to tell Miles.

"Don't listen to that arse," he had whispered to him upon leaving Miguel's 'lair', as everyone liked to put it. It was the day after their little get together and Hobie's...ahem...escapades. As he had expected, they were caught. It's really all Hobie's fault for staying with Y/N so long, but Miles definitely placed all the blame on himself. Miguel was his usual annoyed and angry self, but since it was directed at them, and Miles was such a people pleaser, he scared him good. Miles looked like a ghost leaving that room with Hobie. "He'll forget about it in a week, trust."

Unfortunately, his words went unheard as Miles continued to stare at the ground while they walked. Hobie pat him on the back. "Oi, cut yourself some slack. So you got in trouble for the first time, there's many more to come what with a boss man like that."

"Y-Yeah..." the kid managed to squeak out. Hobie frowned feeling regretful. It hurt seeing him so dejected. Needless to say, Hobie would not be asking Miles to dimension-hop any time soon, not that he would even want to.

Gwen gave Hobie an earful too; Miles was so afraid of being caught again that he only wanted to meet at HQ, much to her displeasure. "You better fix this," she said, finger waving angrily in his face.

So, here he was, many months later with his 3rd prototype, hoping and praying that it would work. He already ran the idea across Miles who swiftly rejected it. He was shocked at how many things Hobie had to steal to work on it, and his conscious would never allow for that. That's fine, Hobie can do all the stealing for him.

"Why are you doing this anyway?" Miles asked him on his 2nd prototype.

"Why not?" He obnoxiously responded. Miles huffed and rolled his eyes. “Maybe I want to see my bro again without Miguel hounding him for it.” He suggested. “Gonna make you your own when I’m done with this one.”

Miles held his hands up and shook his head. “Woah, nuh-uh. No sir. I don’t want nothing to do with that.”

Hobie shrugged. “Fine, then. I’ll make it for Gwendy instead.”

He seemed fine with that, and Hobie knew that at some point he would warm up to the idea of having his own watch. Until then, he didn’t mind traveling over to Earth-1610 whenever he could.

Hobie had to be completely honest with himself. Them getting caught and Miles’s paranoia was the the original reason he began this project, but it wasn’t the only reason. There was someone else he was trying to see on Earth-1610.

Since that day, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Often times he was caught daydreaming by his friends and colleagues alike. Hobie was never someone who had their head the clouds, it was very jarring to see. During these moments he was remembering her sweet voice, her amazing personality and even better music taste.

He had so much respect for her and what she’d been through. He wished he could just give her a hug. Pick her up and take her to where she’ll be safe. With him. For as long as possible.

He also remembered how mesmerized he was seeing her face for the first time. And her body. Her tits constrained by her fishnets with her nipples pressing against the string. How sweet she tasted while she gushed into his mouth, how good it felt when she squeezed herself around him, and wishing he could have came inside her instead of a condom. He’s become the owner to many injuries during missions and countless teasing from his band mates.

All the more reason to finish this watch as quickly as possible. Clearly, his brain was telling him that he needed to see her again. He needs to hear her voice, feel her touch, lick her clit, make her scream his name.

Okay, he was getting a bit carried away, but the point was, as time went on, the ache in his chest grew, and found himself missing her more and more. He’s been spending all of his free time on this hunk of junk, he needed to finish this for his own sanit-

There was a small beeping sound. Then, light.

“Oh, shit!” He exclaimed as it turned on. So as to not fuck it up, he placed it down gently onto his desk and backed away from it. When he tried to turn on the 1st one, it sparked then died. And the second turned on completely only to blow up in his face soon after.

He took in a deep breath, “Okay.” Grabbing the device with his sweaty hands, he pressed a few buttons. 1-6-1-0.

He stepped back and watched the portal open. He gave himself some time to calm down after jumping around and pumping his fists in the air, took another deep breath, and walked in…

…only to end up inside of his own bedroom.

“Ugh,” he threw his head back and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. So he created a watch that could make portals, just not inter dimensional ones. That’s okay. It’s a start. Next time, he’ll get it.

~

Okay, so he didn’t get it next time. This time, it goes to the wrong universe. It’s always nice seeing Spider-Sun anyway. It’s cool. It’s whatever. Next time.

~

So he didn’t get it right again, what’s the big deal? So what if this one only goes to one universe even though his last watch could do multiple? Next time for sure.

~

It caught on fire.

~

It melted.

~

This one just fell apart.

~

By the 15th attempt, Hobie was burned out. At this point, he was just doing it out of boredom. He was close to calling it quits, but something was telling him not to give up. The next one, for sure.

“Pfft, yeah right.” he scoffed to himself after turning on the 16th and final prototype. If this one didn’t work, then that was it. Gwen would just have to deal.

He stared at the forming portal in complete disinterest. At least it turned on this time, but he had the strongest feeling that this one was defective. Why wouldn’t it be? All the other ones were.

Hobie sighed and walked through it, ready to end up in the middle of a jungle in some other dimension. “Just one last time…”

~

Y/N’s not sure what she’s still doing awake. It was extremely late and she had accepted an early booking tomorrow. She should be asleep, it’s never good to tattoo when you’re sleepy. However, her body just refused to relax.

She was bored as all hell scrolling through Instagram and Twitter on her phone. There was nothing else better to do. She already smoked, ate, and gotten ready for bed. From her laptop the theme song to Pretty Little Liars echoed through the room.

Almost every night was this way, relaxing in the comfort of her own home, a show playing on her computer or music through her speaker, eating pasta, a joint in her hand. And as calming as it was, as much as she needed this serenity in her life, she wished there was more.

She’s not entirely sure what she means by ‘more’. She goes out with friends a lot, but after an hour or two, her head starts to hurt from the weed and alcohol and all she wishes is to be in her soft comfy bed. No, she definitely didn’t mean partying or nightlife. She had the smallest inkling that there was something out there. Something bigger than her. She wanted it so badly, but she doesn’t even know what ‘it’ is.

The last time she felt any sort of rush or excitement was months ago, the night of the concert. Whew. That man, Hobie, was the finest looking thing she had seen for a while. She doesn’t know what got into her that night, telling him all her business like that. Was she insane?

Was he? He did tell her he had killed a cop, and he proudly wears his achievement. As he should. She really really liked that about him. His boldness. And he wasn’t just that, he was also kind and respectful, even though she would have let him do whatever he wanted to her without having to ask.

He wasn’t afraid to let her know that he wanted her, badly. And that was probably the most attractive thing about him.

She woke up that morning feeling stupid when the cold bed made her heart pang and eyes water. Why was she even sad? This is what they agreed on. He finished the roach with her, took down her hair, fell asleep sucking on her tit, then left at some point during the night. No problems, no complaints. Maybe that’s what made her so sad.

She wished he stayed until she woke up, or at the very least, shook her awake when he was getting ready to leave. But, it’s on her for having a crush on him.

It got better as time went on. She still missed him dearly, but she began to accept that he was just one of those people you meet once and then never see again, but that you’ll never forget. She does know that if it was possible, she would be open to seeing him again, but it wasn’t.

Hobie wasn’t the only guy who had been plaguing her mind for the past few months. Recently, she found herself becoming more intrigued with Spider-Man. He was an enigma, no one really knew much about him or where he came from after Peter Parker’s death. She heard he was Puerto Rican, which she thought was pretty cool.

What intrigued her was sometimes Spider-Man wasn’t around. It happened around a year ago, now. He used to be everywhere. At every problem in Brooklyn from petty crime to another monster of the week. At some point last year, some crazy scientist at Alchemax had turned himself into a lizard and almost turned everyone else in the city into one too until he came flying in at the last moment. After that, it’s been extremely close calls. Y/N’s friend, Kailani, witnessed the whole thing from where the both of them were supposed to meet up. She said Spider-Man came in through a portal in the sky. Weird.

Things always turned out right in the end. Somehow, someway, he would show up eventually. But Y/N wondered, what could be keeping him so occupied?

The water from the shower turned off and she heard the curtains draw. After 15 minutes of rumbling in the bathroom, the door opened. She put her phone down to acknowledge the presence in her bed room. “Still awake, ma?”

She nodded although knowing he was about to join her made her eyes a bit heavy. Mattias turned off the light and hopped in bed. With his head on her chest, she felt warm and comfy as he completely engulfed her body. He was shirtless and had his arm around her waist. That along with the insulation from the blanket almost made her knock out.

Mattias put her phone on the nightstand. “I didn’t ask you to do that,” she said jokingly.

“You always looking at that thing,” he answered. “Time to give me attention.”

“Well that’s too damn bad ‘cause I’m about to go to sleep.”

He smacked his teeth. “So you can be awake all this time but as soon as I want to get in bed with you, you want to sleep?” She didn’t answer, giving him a fake snore as a response. “Ight, then.”

He starts to roll over in the bed until she grasps his torso. He laughs and adjusts the both of them so that her head was laying on his chest instead. “You still want to go to sleep, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” she says, her brain already shutting down.

“Go to sleep then, pretty girl.”

Ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of her head to check her blinds, she drifted off into a deep and comforting sleep, her last thoughts being Hobie, Spider-Man, and the unknown. She could feel in her heart that there was more to the world than it seemed (apparently scientists are theorizing the existence of alternate dimensions) and she desperately wanted to know more about it. Maybe even see it for herself. But, right now she was just a girl (wanted felon but whatever) who lived in a small apartment in Brooklyn, working at a tattoo and piercing shop and occasionally getting involved with dudes from Queens like the one laying in her bed currently. He probably wouldn’t be there next week and the week after there’ll be a different one. And she was okay with that…

…Hobie was far from okay.

When he stepped through the portal he walked to the edge of the building’s rooftop. When he looked at the gigantic Koka-Kola billboard he knew he was in the right place. “Finally,” he yelled. He closed his eyes and clasped his hands together, an overwhelming sense of pride filling him.

On another billboard, the time was 1:01 am. “Shit,” he said to himself pulling his mask over his face. He immediately got to swinging towards where he remembered she lived. “I hope she’s up.” And even if she wasn’t , he would come see her another day.

When he turned on the corner of her apartment building, he let out a silent “yes”. He could see her room light was on through her window. But, before he could reach it, he paused and took a second to think.

How was he going to greet her again? It was 1 in the morning, and she hadn’t seen him for a while. She thought she would never see him again. How would she feel about him knocking on her door right now? How would that make him look?

Hmm…maybe he didn’t think this through all the way. He should go then come back at a better time…but, what time would be better? He doesn’t know her schedule and he won’t know what time it is. Shit…what should he do?

Okay, maybe he won’t talk to her tonight. He has to come up with a better plan. But, at the very least, he just has to see her.

His heart grows frantic as he swings to her rooftop. He jumped side to side for a minute and took some deep breaths to psych himself up. Then, he climbed off the roof and down to her window. To anyone else, this would have been creepy and an insane invasion of privacy, but Hobie couldn’t find it in him to care. He ignored everything in him telling him this was a bad idea.

He should have listened.

When he first laid his eyes on her again, he felt the butterflies he felt that night, but tenfold. She was just on her phone, obviously bored. He wanted to kiss her and watch her poker face turn into a cute smile. She looked adorable with her little bonnet and oversized t-shirt. He was so busy admiring her that he failed to notice the man walking in until she acknowledged him first.

Watching some guy waltz into her room like he lived there, pants hanging low and his shirt missing almost made him fall. All he could do was stare as that same guy plopped onto her and her bored look became happy. Hobie watched the two of them fall asleep in each other’s arms then crawled back to the roof and sat on the ledge.

His mask made him expressionless, But underneath it, he was hurt. He looked at his hands in defeat. He tried to be numb, but then he continued to think about what had just happened. He was desperate to see her again, to talk to her, to hold her, to kiss all her problems away. Now that he had his new watch, he could have had something with her. But he couldn’t think that anymore.

His chest twisted and curdled in anxiety and dejection. He had to admit it, he was heartbroken. He knew the two of them had a connection that night. He knew she felt it. The second round was just as good if not better than the first. She rode him in her bed slowly and sensually. His voice cracked so much that night, she had him absolutely gone. ‘I wish I could stay inside you’. Why would she tell him she wanted the same? Was it just sex?

He’s being ridiculous. He knows what happened: she moved on.

He didn’t want her to. He really didn’t want her to. He should have told her that he would see her again. He should have…done something.

Hobie lifted his legs and turned around to sit down on the roof. With his legs angled and knees in the air, he pulled off his mask to reveal his anguished face.

Hobie looked into the night sky. He was way too hung up on this girl. Look at him, sitting on her roof fighting tears because she has someone who isn’t him. Serves him right for getting a crush.

Man, maybe Miguel has a point about universe-hopping.

bonus

Tap Tap Tap

Groggy as all hell, Miles blinked slowly as the sound on the window woke him up. He looked in annoyance quickly shifting to happiness then worry once he realized who it was. “Hobie?” He checked the time on his phone that was charging next to him. “After 1:15 in the morning, bro?”

Miles stood up and cracked his back. Hobie moved to the side as the window opened and took off his mask. “‘Ight man, what’s up? Anomaly? Miguel?” He sounded dead tired, but once he saw his downtrodden expression, his nerves were on 10. “You okay?”

It wasn’t the first time they sat atop the dormitory’s roof, but it felt different now. The mood was serene but heavy. Hobie hadn’t really said a word, just messing with something in his lap. He had started climbing and Miles followed.

Hobie was sitting up with his legs crossed whereas Miles laid on his back a bit of a distance away. His hands behind his neck, he stared at the star speckled dark blue sky. Every once in a while he stole a look at Hobie’s back. It was beginning to scare him just how quiet he was. He seemed out of it, he’s never seen him like this before.

But, he wouldn’t push him if he wasn’t ready. Maybe he just needed to be with someone right now.

Still, he wanted him to say something. “So,” he started, Hobie turning his head only slightly to indicate that he had heard him. “You finished that watch then?”

He smirked and huffed. “Yeah, I did.”

The small joy Miles felt from getting him to talk was fleeting. Hobie tensed up again and went back to fiddling with said device. He couldn’t believe how excited he was to finish this thing…to see her.

He sighed and laid on his back as well. Miles held his breath waiting for him to say something. “Miles…I’m sorry.”

The boy furrowed his brows. “What for?”

“I don’t think I ever properly apologized for getting us into trouble like that.” A distant star passed through the sky. “I know how much this job means to you. I was being reckless.”

Miles smacks his teeth and smiles. “Man, don’t even worry about it.” He closes his eyes. It was nice to hear that apology, even though he would never dream of holding what happened over his head. “I know what you was doin.”

They laughed together. Then, Hobie’s small smile faded and it got quiet once more. “I went to see her again.”

“I thought so.”

“She found someone.”

Miles hisses and rests on his elbows to look at him. “Damn,” He sits up fully. “I’m sorry, bro. That must suck.”

Hobie sighs. “Yeah. Lil’ bit.”

“Hey, don’t feel too bad. I bet she missed you just as much as you missed her.” He comforts. Hobie thinks about what he said for a minute. He hopes he was right. He hopes she wanted him to come back to her, but accepted that he wasn’t.

“That’s a nice thought,” he answers. ‘Missed ’ was an understatement.

From the way he grew quiet again, Miles could tell that Hobie’s heart was very heavy. He didn’t really know what to say. Miles wasn’t exactly an expert in relationships, or women in general; he was still trying to figure out his. But, he knows that if he ever found out Gwen was seeing someone else, he would need a big fat hug. So that’s what he did.

He got right next to Hobie and squeezed his shoulders. “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. Hobie nodded and looked into the sky.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know…”

“…Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Will you at least watch over her for me? Make sure your dad doesn’t get his hands on her, yeah?”

Miles laughed. Of course the only girl he’s ever seen Hobie get choked up over is wanted by the police. To which extent, he didn’t know. And he really didn’t want to find out. “Yeah, I got you.”

bonus bonus

“You’re fucking lying.”

“I’m telling you, girl. Cameron said he saw Spider-Man outside your window.”

“What was Cameron doing outside at 1 in the morning?”

“Who cares what he was doing? Spider-Man is keeping tabs on you. Maybe you’ve been targeted by an evil scientist. Or some shit.”

“Stop playing.”

“Spider-Man might be following you around. Tell him I said hiiiiii~.”

“Bye, girl.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N hung up her phone. Tati had frantically texted her in the middle of a piercing walk-in saying it was an ‘urgent matter’. Thankfully, her client was cool enough to let her answer while she continued.

“What was that all about?” The boy asked her. He was a nice kid, and very nervous for his first piercing. The whole situation was a bit strange. He walked in with a friend and a guy that looks absolutely nothing like the either of them who couldn’t shut up about how he met Spider-Man the other day. Then he signed the written consent form and dipped.

“My home girl calling me about some crazy shit,” she answered, almost done preparing her station. “She thinks Spider-Man is spying on me.”

The boy cackles really hard and wipes his eye. She didn’t think it was that funny, but whatever floats his boat. “What?” He wheezed. “That’s insanity.”

“I know, right?” She took the alcohol wipe and cleaned his cartilage. He started shaking a little, and she could see how small his pupils were. He was also…really sweaty. Teenage boys.

“You okay?” She asked. “You didn’t eat, right?” He shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he said nervously. He was a bad liar. “Just…excited.” A really bad liar.

“Just relax, okay? I’ll take care of you.” She clamps his ear and he yelps. The both of them stare at each other. “This yo last chance.”

He takes a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

“Okay then.” She grabbed the needle and prepared to puncture it through his ear. He was trying so hard to be brave but man this kid was afraid. She laughed a bit. “I promise it’s not that bad…what’s your name again?”

“Oh, it’s Mi-AHH!” It was over just as quickly as it started. She was right. It wasn’t as bad. Now he just had to worry about what he would tell his parents when they saw him with it. “…miles…”

“Okay, Miles. We’re all good.”

ending a/n: okay now that’s it! Y’all ain’t getting nothing else from this lil series so don’t ask!

Fr tho guys, this was rly nice to write. Hobie is a lil OOC to me here but I can’t help but write men being absolutely obsessed with their girl it’s my favorite flavor.

Also thank you for choosing the epilogue for those of you who did bcs not only do I not have any business starting a whole new story while I’m literally in the middle of two, I really was gonna break yalls hearts with the story. Y’all would have been MAD AT ME! Shit, I would have been mad at myself.

Anyway, pls check out my other ATSV fics and Toji if you’re into him. Finish this off by saying please go see Rico Nasty live before you die, stay super freaky, have great vagina, I luv yaaaaa🩵

Part 1 Part 2

AO3 Version

My AO3

Masterlist

Taglist: @otaku-degenarate

[squish36-writes-and-draws]

4 November: Unraveling

Word count: 546

General Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0nly @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously @poppinspop @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @corruption-exe @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @hi-imgrapes @callum-hunt-is-bisexual @callas-pancake-tree @hi-my-name-is-awesome @katniss-elizabeth-chase @sillyguy-supreme @void-kill @thefoxysnake

Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak @theleopardstalker @you-will-meet-your-downfall @multi-fandom-lunatic

TW: Swearing, allusion to a literary suicide. It is in a /j way but I want to be careful.

On Ao3 or below the cut!

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Keefe Sencen's Journal

Apparently I’m in a city named Sydney unless my new chess-playing friend is a lying liar who tells lies. I have no concrete reason to believe that, but I still haven’t gotten her name yet. I think she’s taking it as a personal challenge to tell me literally everything else about her life before that, which I respect on a spiritual level. 

She also, for all intents and purposes, had literally nothing better to do, which is good for me because I don’t either and I was starting to get bored enough that I was going to try to find a library. Yeah, sure, I had valiant hopes of learning about where I am and how human history and culture work but let’s be fucking for real, I was close to pulling out my eyelashes like the Mysterous Miss F just to have some entertainment. I should probably write something for the Mysterious Miss Chess Player to explain why I am constantly loitering in that park and why I haven’t said anything and why I keep staring at that little crease between her brows. 

It’s nothing, I swear. It’s just that when she concentrates too hard on a problem, she gets the same crease between her brows that Foster does. I’m not saying that I’ve abandoned all hope, but, to be realistic, I’m never going back there, so what’s the real harm in, if not moving on, liking someone else? Stars, I don’t even know the boundaries of my own feelings anymore, but the pounding of my heart and the fact I’ve dropped this pen twice seems to be a decent indicator of the fact that I’m in the trenches of the eternal horror that is having a crush. I don’t really know how to process it. I’ve been so focussed on Foster for so long that I’ve forgotten what these first few stages are like. If I’m unlucky, I’ll be drawing hearts in the margins tomorrow and be Romeo and Julieting myself off a cliff by the weekend. 

And if it doesn’t work out, I’ll just let RNGsus take the wheel again and spin that pathfinder so I don’t have to deal with the consequences of my actions. I’ve got eternity ahead of me and at least a hundred possible destinations so I’m allowed to fuck up a few times as a treat. 

The other major theme of the day is that between the air pollution and the sheer volume of emotions crashing through me at any given moment, slight movements are starting to make me dizzy, and I don’t like what that implies for the fate of my empathy. I can’t wait for this stupid command ability to be gone so I can actually have a conversation, but until then, it seems as though I’m going to be a fucking mess. So exactly what everyone expected, just with a couple extra steps to make it interesting. 

My food stash is also starting to run low, so that’s going to be something I’ll want to deal with soon. It’s probably time to start planning my master plan of bank heistery. Nah, but like, for real I’ll probably just draw some shitty pictures and hope for the best. I should probably get to doing that actually. 

[taekooktimeline]

April 25, 2023

On April 25, 2022 - Hours after the movie premier, Jk goes live! In my opinion, he came online to read our thoughts and assurances after such a loud, momentous occasion with Tae, especially considering he was silent and primarily seemed to be reading comments for the first seven minutes of his live. He also mentions later in the live he comes on live when he has a lot on his mind. It makes it all the more disappointing how some reacted and what they possibly could’ve commented for Jk to say he wouldn’t read comments. Please remember boundaries as a fan. Use empathy, respect, understanding, kindness and consideration - all of which isn’t hard to do. Be a fan that supports, rather than a “fan” that acts entitled and tries to dictate their lives (like telling him to cut his hair - how shameful of whoever said that) which is no fan. I like to hope and think that Tae and Jk saw more love and support than anything else, factoring in things like Taekook trending worldwide. They’re very much aware of the unfortunate hate from past occasions, yet they continue to prioritize each other, and they always will, so I wish some would take note of this and stop projecting their anger and fear onto them. Nothing will change. Understand that and respect it or be quiet, if you don’t have anything nice to say.

Anyway, getting into his live: 

A little over fifteen minutes in, Jk comments he hasn’t said much but there still is a lot of comments coming through. He gently suggests fans take a break from commenting. He then says to not leave messages, that he came because he missed us and then notes that the temperature of the questions differs. At 22:22 he says with a smile he won’t read comments and he wants to just turn the comments off, as the color of the comments is so different. He then says no matter his mood, happy or uncertain, he’ll seek us out. 

timestamp 23:52

Summary - 

He played the song “I really want to stay at your house” by Rosa Walton and Hallie Coggins on repeat for well over the first 24 minutes of his live. There surely is a reason he played the song on repeat, at least, in my opinion. One person noted it’s an OST for an open world RPG with main character “V.” I also read it’s a very gender neutral game. I won’t even try to deduce the meaning behind Jk playing the song on repeat so please decide as you like, though I’ll leave the RPG info below since it was circulating on SM.

Jk was surprised when, after 24 minutes of the song playing on loop, his player moved to another song.

Timestamp 24:38

Jk mentions now and in the future to not be sick. He then says he’ll also seek out his own personal journey of happiness, as he has until now and will continue to do so. He then reminds us we should too (find our own pursuit of happiness, which will differ for everyone).

Timestamp 25:38

This reminds me of his final live of the four lives he did on March 14, 2023, when he repeatedly and emotionally stressed to be happy, even without BTS (and then asked ARMY to type APOBANGPO).

Back to this live - he mentions again to not be sick. He wishes for our good health, physically and mentally. He says even without reading comments he feels peace because we’re connected right now (through his live). He also turns off the star projector.

Summary -

He then talks about the movie “Dream,” which goes without saying is the momentous event he and Tae attended hours ago. He says he enjoyed it.

He encourages us to focus on the plot of “Dream” as it’s about everyone having individual stories. This ties back into his comment about everyone finding their own definition of happiness - which we all should very much do since it differs for each individual - and working towards our individualized path towards that happiness.  

He says the movie was therapeutic, emotional and fun, and that he enjoyed it, despite not sleeping well the past couple of days (he also mentioned not sleeping well in his March 23, 2023 live). He ends his thoughts on the movie by asking us to give it a lot of love when it releases. He also says it was filmed a while ago, overlapping with Covid, but it’s still meaningful.

Timestamp of start of “Dream” -31:15 - 32:01

Summary -

He says he’s been working hard on music (can’t wait for JJK1!!!! 🙏🏽) and mentions ordering takeout lately. Jk comments he likes the perilla oil in makguksu.

A cute summary of the recipe of what Jk makes in his live - (by Taekook_Rainbow (IG) )

timestamp 35:45 

And this the comment is interesting in itself since we know Tae really loves makguksu. He mentioned eating it for lunch on Weverse, February 7, 2022. 

Tae mentioned makguksu to Wooga during filming of ITS Friendcation. 

https://twitter.com/thv2023/status/1550471881861767168?s=46&t=StSwHjW0_Domk_lHUFMaCg https://www.instagram.com/p/Crc7K1rNdxz/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

Tae and Wooga ate at a makguksu restaurant during filming of ITS Friendcation.  

Seo-Joon mentioned in “Jinny’s Kitchen” Tae is eating a lot of makguksu -

and Jk mentioned it in his March 23, 2023 live.  

Timestamp 11:40 https://twitter.com/cookiesandtea26/status/1650666730593693700?s=46&t=StSwHjW0_Domk_lHUFMaCg https://twitter.com/heaven_borahae/status/1650816921703694336?s=46&t=StSwHjW0_Domk_lHUFMaCg

Jk posted the recipe on Weverse. A lot noted he mentions doubling the recipe. Since Seo-Joon recently said Tae likes makguksu, it seems awfully coincidental Jk posted this 2 portion recipe, but someone could also argue Jk has a hearty appetite, so I’ll just leave the information and you decide as you like 😀

[askdrunkbillcipher]

Talking to Ghosts

(A Halloween special based on the lore I’ve made up for this blog)

- - - -

“Greetings, one and all, to Talking to Ghosts! The interview show that seeks out spirits from beyond the grave and answers the question of what we have to look forward to in the afterlife! I am your host, yet to be a ghost, Spectre, and I have been a medium for my entire life. I use my gifts to bring you all the views and opinions of those who have passed from all across the multiverse, and today, on this Halloween day, do I have a treat for you!”

“I’m here with Euclid and Scalene from Universe 64209, and if those names don’t sound familiar to you, maybe Bill Cipher does! As it turns out, these two are the proud parents of the infamous interdimensional criminal, sadistic tyrant, and demonic dealmaker - or at least, the version of him that’s also a raging alcoholic!”

“Could we really not get anyone else for our Halloween special? Like, I get that they’re still Cipher’s parents, but really? That version of the guy? No, no, I’ll still do the show, it’s just- sigh, yeah, no, I get it. Alright.”

“So, first off, let’s hear from the lovely belle of Euclydia, Scalene! So, it seems that your son is quite fond of you! In fact, he mistook a blue Bill for you and got wildly attached. Take a look!”

[Scenes between drunk!Bill and ReverseFalls!Will are played across the screen. A laugh track plays every time drunk!Bill calls him “mom”.]

“But how would you describe your relationship with your son?”

…He was my precious boy. He meant the world to me. I did everything I could for him. I’m just sorry it wasn’t enough…

“So you don’t resent him for destroying your entire dimension?”

Of course not. It was a tragic accident. He didn’t mean it. As I was dying, I saw the look in his eye. The horror in it… I just wish he could move on. There’s no changing what he’s done. I don’t blame him for running, but he can’t do this forever.

“Well, that response is about as emotionally mature as it is depressing! What about you, Euclid? What are your thoughts?”

Heh. I won’t lie to you. At first, I was furious. Everything I had worked for was reduced to a speck of dust along with everything else. But as time went on, I realized being a ghost is actually pretty great! I can do whatever I want without having to worry about things like public image and climbing the social ladder!

“Wow, that’s unexpected! So what have you been doing?”

Well, I saw how powerful Billy got as he grew older and I started to think maybe he got it from me! Sure, I didn’t show any signs of it before, but maybe that’s just cause I never tried. So I’ve been going to Earth and giving it a shot, trying to project my thoughts into the minds of those freakish 3D beings that took their own political roles. Nothing too serious, just trying to get a bit more money into politics or get that housing market booming again. But it… hasn’t worked all too well. At all even. But at least I can hover in the corner and watch them discuss things.

“Haha! Sounds like you miss your old job on some level! Do you regret at all not taking your son seriously?”

Of course not! He said he saw something no one else could see, does that not sound like hallucinations? Er, can we scratch that from the record, actually? What I meant to say was, what are you talking about? It was never my idea to call him crazy and drug him, it was that bastard optometrist! He’s the one who really traumatized my son. Scalene and I were just doing what we were wrongly led to believe was best for our sweet little boy!

Honey, you once got so mad about him talking about the stars in front of your colleagues that you whispered to him you’d cut his eye out if he didn’t stop.

Haha! That’s obviously not what I said! I said… to cut it out! You know the expression, cut it out? I am so terribly sorry if you or he misheard me, of course.

…

“Wow! Such a spirited conversation between the spirits of this couple! Now, on another note, how do we feel about that drinking problem?”

I know he does it because he can’t handle his feelings. I just wish he had someone to support him through it. Though, it looks like he’s getting some friends who could help, and this gives me hope.

Feelings, is it?

What?

That’s why you always spent so much of my money on wine?

For the millionth time, I’d only ever finish a bottle about every two weeks. The rest was cooking wine! Meanwhile-

Oh here we go again!

-you only stopped going out for whiskey every week when people started recognizing you in public! That’s all you’ve ever cared about, is your public image! Not your child, not supporting a family-!

I’m sorry, remind me again who was the main breadwinner of the household?

That’s not the poin-!

Who was it, dear?

…You, Euclid.

That’s right! Because of my money, you had a house, you had food on the table, and we both had the money for Billy’s very expensive medical treatments! So I don’t want to hear-

“IS THERE anything you’d like to say in the last five minutes of the show?”

Please don’t be too hard on my son-

I would just like to take this moment to say that if there are any mayoral races that are both taking place and accept interdimensional ghosts as candidates, I would be more than happy to run! I’m certain my experience in politics will help me to serve you the people well, no matter where you are!

Don’t vote for him

“And that’s all the time we have! Thank you, Euclid and Scalene of Dimension 64209 for your time with us today! And to the viewers at home, I hope to see you again real soon! Buh-bye!”

[sleeptowns]

a year (or so) of fics, in retrospect

once every handful of years i remember to look back at the collection of projects i’ve finished recently and to simulate a critique as if i’m an art school student — and also as if i’m the haunted teacher’s assistant who wants to be gentle on the prof’s behalf but actually hates your work and also i am the other students who have been sitting there for seven hours straight and can’t offer much more except say, “it’s fine.” a one-man critique day, all parts played by me. 

sometimes i do this and the last period of writing has been drier than a pizza slice left in the winter sun, but this time i’m lucky that these last couple of years have been the closest i’ve had to a writing pax romana.

with that said, i’m not entirely sure how valid i am whenever i think these days that my writing has gone through some drastic changes in the last year; i’m not even sure if it’s accurate to call any of it growth, though i’m aware it’s the sort of thing i won’t have a clear perspective on until a few years after the fact. but i do know that i’m lucky to have so many works to act as markers for different periods of my writing, and while it’s far from a sure method of evaluation, there are parts there that i’m able to at least assess, if not outright measure. in the last year or so, my fics have started mutating towards — not really a separate sort of output than my previous ones, but definitely older somehow. older and quite different because of it: stylistic choices i would have steered clear of before, failed and/or lacklustre genre explorations, even relationship dynamics that were previously unfamiliar territory. my most recent fic feels like a culmination of all my attempts at wrestling with my writing in the ring, and now that it’s a few weeks behind me and i get to look at it with fresh(er) eyes and accept that it’s my favourite child (i’m sorry flls... you’re not too far behind), it’s also reminded me that i have a now overdue fic roundup to write. 

tangentially speaking, it’s interesting that you never really hear about self-taught writers. self-taught artists, yes, and self-taught musicians, but never quite self-taught writers. i don’t exactly purport to have taught myself everything i know about writing, and i know you can’t really be self-anything as a writer; what i lack in technique and finesse learned from proper writing classes, teachers, and/or workshops, i owe to the media i’ve consumed, good and bad, as well as to the creators i love and to all the thoughtful readers i’ve had over the years. if i’m self-taught in any way, then the self as a teacher was reared by countless others who have honed in me a limitless capacity to be an observer to stories, mine and all else. 

this post is just a roundup of all my fics from december 2020 to january 2023, including only the ones with enough substantial content to write about, which disqualifies a lot of the fics i left at one or five scenes max but qualifies the ones i abandoned at one chapter. just a little something for me to reference as i figure out where to take my writing next and hopefully move towards some kind of ✨ growth ✨ lol 

・・・・・・

FIRST LOVE, LATE SPRING december 2020 to march 2021, jujutsu kaisen trial element | dual pov romance, multimedia (?)

i covered a bit of the early chapters and conceptualization for flls in a separate post, but as i was reflecting on how to write a continuation, it occurred to me that if there’s a clear before and after to the current state of my writing, then the first portion of flls chapter five is where i’ll find it. 

when i was drafting my 58393th version of that chapter — nothing was working, none of it was the right vibe i needed, most of them too detached or too on-the-nose but never the perfect middle — i happened upon trying second person pov by accident. i’m not the biggest fan of second person (though to be fair, i don’t think anyone is) but by that point i was so sick of writing and rewriting this one section and not getting anywhere that i wondered if i should just lean all the way into that disgust. why not do something i hated entirely? and act of desperation as that was, the moment i started writing in curt, nauseating second person, i knew it was the right choice. 

the thing about writing flls!yuuji is that he felt both alive and unfamiliar. flls!megumi was easier to understand, even if he was trickier to write — but yuuji, i had to really work to get to know. one thing about him that i knew to be careful about from the very beginning of jjk is that it would be too surface level to think this boy is an extrovert. yuuji is usually painted as an energetic, sunny person, and i don’t think he’s not that, but there’s something about yuuji that’s also very internal and almost innately… isolated? i don’t know if that’s necessarily the right word, but there’s a lot about him as a character that’s out of view or grasp, which ironically i find people taking at face value. in flls, he required a lot more balance than megumi, who was a dam waiting to be relieved of its duties. flls!yuuji knows who or what he is — how could he not, when he’s never had a choice but to be this person, this kid who lost his grandpa, this kid who needs love but doesn’t know how to ask for it because he doesn’t even know there are forms of it he can ask for? 

how to write a character like that? how to nudge someone who doesn’t reveal even at his most revealing towards the christmas eve fight i had set up in the beginning of flls chapter one? back before chapter six of flls came out, i saw a lot of people argue that megumi and yuuji just needed to communicate, and yes, of course they do, but i was also very adamant as i started chapter five that the real tragedy about them is that communication will do nothing in the end. even if they magically became master communicators about their needs and wants and insecurities, none of it will change the fact that neither of them are ready to love and be loved by the other person. at least not in any way that constitutes a relationship that feels like love. 

i think that’s the key to writing the relationship in flls. it was never a question that they loved each other, and how much. never. this is probably the first piece of ~growth i appreciated about flls. it would be easy to write a romance where the main conflict is them not knowing the other loved them back, but flls got rid of that quite early. i left no room for doubt — or at least this is the hope — that flls!itfs loved each other in a way no one else would be able to compare to. they’re it for each other. but if it had been as simple as portraying that, then i never would have finished flls at all, and it definitely wouldn’t have been my longest fic at the time. 

instead — what if it was a given that they loved each other, and it still wasn’t enough? what kind of story can we spin about that? what kind of questions and answers can we find?

that’s actually such a pretentious way to frame that, but the fact of the matter is that i needed to not waste space now that we’re five chapters in. this is the beginning of the end. how do we shift gears and take the tone of the entire story along with it? i don’t know if there’s something about second person pov that’s just inherently full of dread, but it did quite a bit of work in chapter five. it felt disembodying for me as a writer, and i could only hope the same for readers. i was really, really worried some people will give up reading altogether thinking all of chapter five will be in second person, but i didn’t want to compromise. it was going to be second person for most of their real relationship or nothing: vaguely dissociative, intensely drained, with no room to actually enjoy being each other’s boyfriend. the main challenge was to not go from zero to a hundred in a snap. i had the room to do so in only one chapter, but i had to find a way to keep a tight rein on the pace or else the whole fic will fail. 

there also had to be love. and longing. and a desperation to make it work. i think that was yuuji in a nutshell — someone desperate to make it work, whatever this thing is. that’s what constitutes his strengths and his weaknesses, in canon and in flls. i wanted to find a way to make that palpable to a reader the way it was palpable to me while writing yuuji in second person. somewhere along making sure to tether myself to him by knowing what pieces of media he’d reference (high school musical and fullmetal alchemist) and his life outside of megumi (work, basketball, tea with nanami, skateboarding), i had to also drown with yuuji in the hope that the reader would follow. chapter three afforded me the luxury of only examining yuuji from the omniscience of a writer writing in third person — i could dismantle him through the therapy scene, could show myself and the reader a way to understand him, but i could not take us there to where he is. 

i don’t know how successful the second person pov was, ultimately, though i’d be lying if i said it wasn’t what i thought was truly best at the time. it probably wasn’t that creative to anyone but me, but it gave me a nudge towards different ways to explore… vibes. atmosphere, maybe, is the more formal word for it. if not for the second person pov choice in flls, i wouldn’t have been nudged towards kamo’s newsletter to act as the midway point of the story, the last palate cleanser i’ll allow myself and the reader, and i never would have written please let me love you forever and days of brutalism and hairpin turns the way i did. i owe a lot to that tiny but crucial choice, as does flls as a whole. everything that followed that section — the fight, the aftermath of the fight, the breakup — relied on it to make themselves work, and it’s funny (and valuable to note) how it’s something as seemingly inconsequential as a pov choice that set the tone. 

especially because there’s nothing special, really, about those following scenes. the christmas eve fight, megumi’s conversation in the car with geto, the break-up itself — all of it followed my standard flow of dialogue. sure, there’s more tension when you’re writing an argument, let alone when writing scenes that will inevitably lead to a break-up, but all scenes, particularly dialogue, have to feel fraught with some kind of energy and inevitable anyway. for the remainder of chapter five and six, i just coasted on the tone set up by the beginning of chapter five, and that’s knowledge that has served me quite well since. atmosphere goes a long, long way, and with my writing style, a healthy balance between dialogue and introspection will take me the rest of the way to the finish line. the part of flls that i’ve heard people find the most heartbreaking were also its simplest. all of chapter six is dedicated to one wedding, and chapter seven to one evening. i wish i could say there was a trick there, that i agonized over how to write such important scenes, but my personal takeaway is that there is no trick. the point is that you get the story to a point where those scenes write themselves; there’s nowhere else for the flow to go, and geto’s gentle unpacking of megumi, the last few scenes before megumi and yuuji break up, and the bittersweet reunion after two necessary years — i can only hope they carried a sense of “this is the only way it could have gone” the way they did for me. geto doesn’t tell megumi anything we don’t already know from earlier chapters, if only just now put into words. megumi and yuuji also don’t tell each other anything, in the breakup scene and the getting back together sections, that we haven’t already gleaned from them. from the moment kamo’s newsletter ended and we headed into act two — everything was just wrapping up what i left for myself.  

it’s worth noting that i did try to complicate the final chapter a bit. i tried a split pov between yuuji and megumi at first, as a way to finally reconcile their two perspectives, but that felt too cheesy. i tried an outing to nagoya for nobara’s birthday, tried to divide the pov amongst the people in their lives (junpei, nanami, nobara, etc), and even to do my usual cyclical structure of starting with the same image we did in chapter two, this time in yuuji’s funabashi apartment — but those all felt too on the nose. i trusted my flls readers. maybe that’s what all it came down to. i trusted them to know these people, and this story, and i didn’t want to do too much and compromise that trust. and in the end, i would argue, returning to simplicity made the story what it was. 

something i love to think about is how to explain my fics to others. i know it’s been said a lot that the ao3 tagging system has convinced a mini generation of writers that tags and names of tropes are all you need to pitch/be pitched a story, and i wholeheartedly agree. or i might just be terrible at advertising my work, with an obnoxious aversion to learning how to do it better to boot, but to be fair, i think my premises are all just as boring as they are ridiculous. flls is a college au with two friends with benefits turned fake boyfriends turned real boyfriends turned exes. that’s it. there’s nothing else in the plot but that. yet it’s a lot more to me than that, and sometimes that’s all you have when you send a story out into the world. the knowledge that it was briefly yours, and now it isn’t, but that doesn’t at all devalue what you’ve taken away from spending time with it. 

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US april 2021, jujutsu kaisen trial element | short form, childhood friends

this is one of a handful of attempts at writing a trope i don’t love all that much, inspired largely by the atmosphere in “horatio” by t.j klune. i was very conflicted about this fic when i first published it, primarily because it was so short and written in a sparse style i didn’t know how to evaluate, and partly because it didn’t feel substantial. in a post i’ve put on private since, i’d written: 

what if i repeat the same themes in another context? that doesn’t make the theme carry any less weight as long as i put heart and sincerity and compassion into how i’m writing about it. there’s something that is equally as much self-deprecation as it is borderline vanity in me placing these rules upon myself. i’ve always known i wrote first and foremost out of love, out of what makes me excited to write — and that still applies here. i was thrilled to be able to experiment with a short, snappy fic. and that’s far more important, isn’t it, than whether i’m writing a different dissertation angle on love or friendship or family or career? it doesn’t feel like it, no, but it should, because i know it is. i know that what matters to me is that writing is fun and compassionate, and i know that as long as one person finds comfort in a world i’ve built, it’s enough.

i don’t sound very convinced there, and i wasn’t. i still don’t know what to make about us. i like that it’s short, and i endeavour to write more short fics with nothing specific or significant about them — but it’s hard to stomach its existence, let alone see it as something to love. it just feels so… not empty, but definitely less than what i’m used to asking from myself. it’s short, it’s sweet, it’s snappy. it’s also formulaic in its own sparse way, and i think it works because of the sweetness, but the truth is that if i hadn’t written it for itafushi week, i would never have greenlit it for publishing. i still wrestle nowadays with wanting to delete it, but it matters so little to me that i can’t even justify that much. it’s a weird limbo of a story, though i still hope to explore this kind of writing more in the future. 

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SOME KIND OF WE june 2021, jujutsu kaisen trial element | sequel to existing complete story

broke my own rules here by revisiting a story past its run, but to be very fair, it was less out of sentiment (though there was also that) so much as me startling at my first proper reread of the latter half of flls and realizing there are still unresolved arcs for megumi because the final chapter set two years later only had yuuji’s pov. not many of them, and none especially urgent, but i thought it would be a good opportunity to reorient the story to something quieter and more mature than what the central conflicts in flls left room for. i’m not convinced the back-and-forth between pieces of their recent few months being together and the present evening worked as seamlessly as i wanted it to, but it was still a nice opportunity to use a non-linear narrative to explore the growth and development of a relationship that i left at quite the bittersweet open-endedness. what was only delicately certain by the end of flls was made concretely certain through some kind of we, even if it did run a bit too sentimental and saccharine. but i think it can be forgiven, considering what yuuji and megumi went through in flls proper. 

the main challenge of this fic was figuring out which portions of their life post-flls were worth including, and the first draft had five potential sections:

tokyo, for megumi’s first visit back after moving to chiba, mostly dedicated to him realizing that home — after being rooted for so long to this city, this one apartment with his dad, the same neighborhood and transit lines, to the gojo-geto household — now finally belongs somewhere else, with someone else. 

funabashi, most of which was preserved in the version that was published. 

sendai, to visit grandpa itadori’s grave, which i decided to streamline into a single scene at the end of the final some kind of we draft to cut away the excess and break it down to the core of why i wanted them to make this visit — which is to hammer home for yuuji that he isn’t alone anymore, that he has someone taking care of him and loving him without fail and with care, and to give megumi the agency to solidify, for his own sake, that he’s someone who means the whole universe to yuuji. enough that what place is his will always and solely be his, and enough that megumi will be allowed to love and take care of another person in a way that’s both eternal and an ever-evolving work in progress. 

okinawa, for a trip that was only referenced as a backdrop in the final version but that i still like to think a lot about even now. a cc anon said once that the gojo-geto household must be so lonely with all the kids grown up, but as i talked about in another reply once (it’s too far back for me to have time to dig out at this point), i do love to imagine yuuji and megumi being uncles to the next generation, even if not outright parents themselves. sometimes you don’t know what you’re capable of giving as someone who was denied so much as a kid until you see someone so young, a stranger to the world, and know what to give them precisely because you didn’t have it once. and between yuuji not having much family and megumi’s life being complicated by the fact that he has too much family, i think they’re well-equipped to be uncles to tsumiki’s kids and beyond. and i was tempted for a bit to show this in the annual okinawa trips i mentioned in the final version of skow, but there just isn’t enough space without becoming superfluous. 

kuantan, to visit nanami, mostly to reconsolidate the rather serious interaction megumi and nanami had in flls into something gentler, considering he’s still family to yuuji and while nanami might say yuuji doesn’t need his blessing, yuuji will want it anyway. i never did end up writing this part, so it’s not exactly canon to the au and i’m hesitant to make it so, but the idea was to end with megumi asking for both nanami’s blessing and help to propose to yuuji on that malaysia trip.

the end result for this fic was a little lesson for me in cutting and cutting and keeping my hand light on the source, until i’m left with what i consider necessary. the final version of some kind of we is more a collection of vignettes than a straightforward account of megumi and yuuji’s life together post-flls, which i found much more strangely fitting. i feel like i spent so much of flls trying to get them to a point where they’re ready to be with each other, and i just wanted to dedicate skow to them not just making it work but building love on top of the foundations they secure. it’s one thing to portray that through a whole fic dedicated to each milestone; it’s another to write ordinary moments that are made extraordinary because they have chosen that for and with each other. neither of them say i love you out loud in the entire fic, but i wanted there to be no doubt that they do say it. that they do love each other, and that this part isn’t the obstacle it used to be. they’re just some kind of them, together, and this time it doesn’t feel bittersweet for me to send them off to the world for good knowing there’s love falling out of the spaces between each vignette i wrote. 

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HAND IN UNLOVABLE HAND october 2021, jujutsu kaisen trial element | fantasy au

yikes. one of two fics in this round-up that i abandoned at chapter one. started this because an idea occurred to me while reading the atlas six, wrote until i had to stop, then didn’t look back once even when it would have served me to. 

i flew too eagerly close to the sun with this one, truly, but as far as intentions go, i think both my mind and heart were in the right place. it’s quite clear where this one went wrong: i had neither time nor the energy to dedicate to it; i started it on the same whim i start most other things but this time didn’t have the passion for it — and i confess i just didn’t have the patience required to work on writing the story i wanted to write.

it was also one of those lessons in how often big ideas — or an attempt at them — cannot sustain a story. i had what i thought were clear ideas and intentions about the themes i wanted to cover in this one (the downfall of religious devotion, reconstruction, academic institutions versus personal/individual responsibility, all of which just look like buzzwords now that i’m typing them out, omg), but it just didn’t leave room for the kind of story i like to write. i guess my main takeaway here is that the pitfall of high(er) concept genre stories is that you have to make space for the world at the cost of room for character writing; it’s just the nature of how much space in the narrative you can allot for each individual aspect of the story, and with stuff like fantasy and sci-fi, the worldbuilding takes up a significant amount more than your run-of-the-mill slice of life story where the only world i have to worry about sketching is where someone lives and works. 

i do like some parts? it’s kind of crude, how i tried to reconcile my writing style with genre-specific bits, but it’s not all terrible. this sequence is alright:

Megumi was seven the first time he restored something. 

Every part of it had been an accident, and he remembers it now only in fragments. The wet rag in his hand as he wiped down the dining hall tables, having to climb the chairs to get to each corner. The horrible echo of something shattering in the kitchen, where Tsumiki had been tasked to do all the dishwashing for the evening. The panic on her face when Megumi got to her, both of them crowding around the shards of ceramic left by what was once a plate. The spill of harsh candlelight from above the sink, the harsher shadows it sent dancing around the broken glass. 

But he does remember the remembering. The knowing of what the plate had looked like once, the image behind his eyes anchoring him in place as he latched onto the curl of the shadows on the floor. It would be more intuitive, more rudimentary, than anything he’d learn to do later in life, propelled by the worry on Tsumiki’s face and the footsteps he swore he could hear coming towards them from the other end of the servants’ quarters they called home back then—but it had taken only a single blink for the shadows to cover the plate, tighten around it into darkness, and then retreat to where they were, leaving a clean, untouched plate in the middle of the kitchen floor. 

it could be better, but it still could be worse. and i do like the overall architectural imagery and how i managed to scrounge up some standard fare coziness somewhere in the cold, almost-medieval setting. 

as far as disastrously failed ventures go, this one could be a lot more embarrassing than it is. i’m not mad at it. it’s far from good enough, and if i didn’t write it in such a frenzy, i probably never would have allowed it to be published. but. it’s a useful failure. 

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PLEASE LET ME LOVE YOU FOREVER march to june 2022, blue period trial element | five-character gen dynamic, multimedia

what a... headache of a project. bit off more than i could chew without choking and decided to take even more bites each new chapter because why the hell not, apparently. i do appreciate how un-edited this fic is, despite it all. it feels the most bleeding-heart of all my fics from this past year or so, and it’s nice to look back at this and know exactly when i shifted my approach to it altogether because, again, why not. it’s such a valuable “why not?” to have. it’s nice when i don’t feel quite as… under surveillance? when writing a story. and i get to just go off the rails a bit. a lot, actually, with this one. it’s nothing crazy because i don’t think i can write anything crazy (though i think hairpin turns had blinks of it), but there’s definitely plenty of choices that i’m surprised i decided on with a sober mind. 

to be fair, they weren’t exactly mindblowingly successful. if i were to rate this fic out of five, despite all my fondness for it, i’d maybe give it a 2.75. it’s a well-earned mark, and i have a special soft spot for people who have read it, but i’m not mentally proud of it. emotionally so, maybe, in whatever way i can be, but if this fic didn’t feel so intimate with a much cozier readership and comment section, i’d be a lot crueler to it than i am, i think. as it is, it makes for wonderful conversation and reflection for me, and it’s always fun to consider how a story about a disbanded idol group became a metaphor for childhoods lost to growing up too fast and also involved alternate universes. 

but cycling through five povs really is too much, i think, and if it was exhausting for me to write then i imagine it was just as exhausting to read. a nicer alternative would have been to stick to one pov for each chapter, but even that was a lot to juggle considering there were also smaller dynamics going on in the background with each character. within the core group of five alone, there were thirty-one variations of scenes to write, including individual introspection and pairs — and that’s not to take into consideration trios, or groups of four or the whole five plus a secondary character, for example. i don’t know how i pulled off my usual character study here. i don’t know if i did. 

another thing about this fic is that i’m still not sure why a time loop didn’t work. i wanted it so badly to work. i thought it would be fun, but i guess time loops aren’t necessarily compatible with prose. there’s something about repetition and looping that’s best visually, but even if i had been able to stick to imagery and vibes, it would have gotten tedious at some point for me and a reader considering the quantity/length i tend to need. just something to keep in mind if i get the urge to keep trying time loops in future works and wonder why it’s not sticking seamlessly. as with a lot of things in life, if you have to force it then maybe it’s not meant to be there. or maybe you have to go shortform, narrow down the playing field?

one thing i’d commend this fic for is how it managed to unpack so much between dynamics that barely exist in canon. that, and how it managed to pack so many formats into one story — song lyrics, album reviews, tweets, a play, nonfiction, a profile, wikipedia pages, messages, i don’t even know how many more — while maintaining a semi-cohesive tone throughout. there was a lot of fun there, in figuring out how to adapt your typical characterizing to a format you haven’t tried before: how would kuwana write a preface to hashida’s book? would this particular character include rhymes in their song lyrics, or are they more of a diaristic stream of consciousness kind of lyricist? what medium best translates this character’s personality? what medium best conveys this dynamic’s under-the-skin knowing of each other? who sees more than the others, and how can i show that without using the same structure of two or three characters talking in a setting that doesn’t change? 

my favourite part is probably the fake album review at the top of chapter four? there’s something giddying about the research-like quality of figuring out how to perfect the tone that music reviewers tend to default to, but also sobering about how easily adapted this fake idol group’s history is from real life. the easiest part of the entire fic was making this group feel real to me, situated in the real life history of j-idols and beyond, even if i admit to shying away from being explicit about the worst things that would still have been grounded in reality. some references to real life idol incidents worked a little too well, but there was also how clean it felt to spin fictional lore for this group in that fake album review. from their individual songwriting styles to tobi’s own background in-story to the kind of themes and concepts a faux pretentious pitchfork reviewer might like to talk about — it was just incredibly fun. i don’t know when else i’d get the chance to write something like that. everything else paled in comparison to it soon after, though i do also tolerate whatever my writing was doing at the end of chapter five, even if some parts of that chapter also feel lacklustre through a hypercritical lens. it doesn’t hold up under extremely rigorous scrutiny, even if i consider the fact that i’d just wanted the fic wrapped up as soon as i could at the time. it could be better, more so than all the other fics in this post could be better. but i don’t mind too much that it isn’t better. i mind it a little. just a little. but its flawedness is also what forced the multimedia format to happen in the first place, and that, i like a lot.

there’s a fair amount that this fic did quite more than alright, i think. if nothing else, it was useful as a playground that i didn’t have to be too finicky about. it will be one of those projects i’ll look back at someday and laugh deliriously over because how did i think that was the only way to make it work, but with the facilities i had at the time, it’s definitely not a shitshow. it has a lot of heart — which doesn’t necessarily redeem awful works, but in passable ones, those parts of the writing meet each other halfway. please let me love you forever holds its own weight, which is plenty more than i can say for most of my other experiments. plus it contains a background relationship that is not at all the focus of the story yet will probably haunt me forever. it’s always the ones you least expect to matter that will ripple further down the line, etc.

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LOSER TAKES ALL july 2022, tomodachi game trial element | soulmates, mystery au

another unpublished little guy left to rot at one complete chapter. i don’t really have any huge problems with this one, just that i tired of its demands very quickly and didn’t have enough attachment to the dynamics in it to muster up any motivation for. but tomodachi game, and especially yuuichi and kei, are so uniquely positioned for a fic like this, and i don’t resent past me for approaching it this way at all. is a soulmate bond that fosters a telepathic link between people who come back from a brush with death kind of an unhinged premise for a mystery au? yes. but so is remodeling a breakfast restaurant with my mom and the guy i didn’t know confessed to me in high school and who is now literally displaced in more ways than one by said remodeling, and even also acting is all i know so here i am trying to find the love of my life by dating anyone for an entire month on a first come first serve basis only to be shocked when that doesn’t work. 

again. boring yet equally ridiculous elevator pitches. if i cemented anything for a fact from this abandoned wip, it’s that my premises have always been questionable, and that time and time again, the only path forward is to lean all the way into it — which i did with hairpin turns, thankfully. hand in unlovable hand and loser takes all are apart by about a year, and there’s palpable change here in my approach to worldbuilding even if i abandoned each for unrelated reasons. granted, i might just be better suited to one side of speculative fiction than the other, but that’s such a copout. when it comes to trying new things in writing, the “if he wanted to, he would” logic applies, even if the he in question ultimately finds that it doesn’t work the way he wants it to (like in hand in unlovable hand). 

loser takes all worked fine for me, and i loved the inherent intimacy in having two incredibly smart and perceptive characters in each other’s minds while trapped in this soulmate bond that isn’t necessarily romantic. not to mention yuuichi is a deeply unwell person, and his ways of showing attachment to kei range from drastically protective, such as offering to fire the receptionist that was rude to kei, to:

Sometimes, watching Kei asleep right against him, Yuuichi wants to press his lips against Kei’s pulse. To feel it warm and alive under his mouth, to hear that little sigh of ticklish laughter Kei does if someone so much as runs a soft cloth against his neck. 

And sometimes—sometimes Yuuichi is also seized by a strong thought, a strong urge, to sink something sharp into that pulse. His teeth, a fork, a shard of broken glass. Sink it in hard, deep enough to leave a bloody bruise, a scar, a puncture. Hard enough to maybe even sever that heartbeat, to tear it, slit it into silence somehow. Hard enough that it feels almost the kinder choice to imagine himself wrapping his hands around Kei’s neck—tightening them without hesitation, itself a mercy of a kind as the blood quickly drains out of Kei’s cheeks. Yuuichi imagines then how Kei will struggle, whether he’ll kick or bite Yuuichi, if he’ll reverse their positions with one twist of a martial arts trained body, or if he’ll just accept it, resign himself to it knowing that not even this, if it’s Yuuichi, could possibly be meaningless.

But it would be. It would be meaningless to kill Kei. Meaningless because Kei is singular in his position within Yuuichi’s life, loyal and intelligent and a force to be reckoned with like no one else is, not even Yuuichi’s sister, not even the only friend he trusts most. Meaningless because every time Yuuichi pictures it, every time he wonders if he’ll have it in him to press two killer’s hands around Kei’s neck, it doesn’t take long for the accompanying sting to come like a splash of boiling water on exposed skin. A kind of scolding, a kind of reminder, that just as much as it would be difficult for anyone to kill Kei—so impervious to physical harm, whose broken bones and bleeding wounds will always heal even if he jumps off a twenty-story building—it would be just as difficult for Yuuichi to do him harm and survive it without any damage done to his own heart at his own hands. 

the temptation to keep writing this is not entirely absent, to be honest. but a mystery takes care and attention, and i just don’t have that in me the way this story deserves. but this fic was delicious to write, and i think it gave me a hunger to write more dynamics that feel just as juicy. dynamics that aren’t necessarily geared towards healthy love, but ones that ooze if poked anyway. 

i definitely want to revisit the telepathy plot device i explored here someday, but for now, this fic, abandoned wip as it is, is kind of the goldilocks midpoint between failed venture (hand in unlovable hand), almost-passable venture (please let me love you forever), and basically there if being there counts taking your literal first baby step into a new frontier (days of brutalism and hairpin turns).

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HONORARY MENTIONS

i don’t mean to ignore the canonverse fics (here and where you are, i’ll give you something so real, detour, and the two manhwa fics, that is) out of favouritism, but i’m afraid there’s nothing much to say…? not that these weren’t lessons in themselves, but canonverse takes a quarter of the energy and brainpower to write, and i’ll be lying if i don’t go about them essentially all no thoughts, head empty. i talked a bit about here and where you are here, while the logic for detour, which i was happy to write for and based on exchanges with a friend, is pretty self-explanatory. i did love getting to write a character like loid (and i’m relieved that the chapters that follow the ones i took into consideration for that fic hold up the characterization i imagined for him) + it was interesting to give sexual content and the philosophy of desire or whatever a shot in i’ll give you something so real. they were effective at what i needed them to do — which is, really, just to check the temperature of the water. i always feel so rusty when any amount of time passes without me writing, and these small, low-maintenance fics work as a burst of ice cold water before jumping in. i don’t value these fics any less for their place in The Process, and i might even be extra happy when someone likes them, but as far as Advancing The Craft 🤢 goes, all of these are simply necessary bridges to get to the next checkpoint. sometimes you gotta scratch the tip of the pen before the ink starts bleeding like it’s supposed to. words are the same. it takes a while each time to get my writing to a place i recognize, and sometimes a while is an entire fic before i can write the next chapter for an ongoing multi-chaptered story.

(that said: shoutout to the particular flavour of introspection in detour, within which my favourite line was written the literal minute before i sent it off, and a big heart emoji for the fact that i’ll give you something so real unfolds in a span of barely half a day. both are very interesting to think about moving forward.)

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DAYS OF BRUTALISM AND HAIRPIN TURNS january 2023, blue lock trial element | a romantic triad, sci-fi, memory loss (finally!) 

my angel. my darling. my love. who is far from being perfect but is the closest i’ve had to at least being sure i won’t just wake up one day loathing the soul out of it. i’ll laugh at it, probably. i’ll think it’s hilarious and cringy someday soon. but it’s a work i can’t not appreciate wholeheartedly. 

my cc tells me that the first time i put it on record that i won’t mind doing a blue lock fic is may 16, 2022, and the fact that i didn’t even make it a year and did so in the most Hard To Pitch If This Was An Actual Novel And Not Just A Fic For Fun way possible is worth at least a salute of disbelief, i think. my journal from my writing hiatus also tells me i’ve been trying to make memory loss work since 2020 and managed to scratch the itch minutely with here and where you are (which is… a pretty janky piece of work, looking back now) — but i’m just really, really content, even proud, of how i managed to weave it into a fic adapted from a story about football battle royale. 

it’s almost kind of unnerving how satisfied i am with the premise of hairpin turns, even if the execution leaves quite a bit to be desired — as it always will, really, and therein is the joy of finding the next writing project. i laughed a lot at myself while writing hairpin turns, and of all the inside jokes that my works started as, this one is by far the fic to feel most like it — a fun little joke that got funnier and funnier the more of it i wrote, and so i wrote more, chasing that laughter until it was time to catch my breath. and i think with how much i require writing to feel urgent and single-minded to be fun, there’s a part of me that’s easily... bored, for lack of a better word, when something doesn’t give me that. without this fast-paced almost-violence, i get bored and restless, the way i was around all the projects i had lined up after please let me love you forever. i’m making a face as i type that but maybe i just mean to say that there were a good few months there where nothing scratched the itch in need of stimulation. i’d write scenes and they wouldn’t be awful, wouldn’t even be bad, but they weren’t exciting to me. they weren’t thrilling. they didn’t feel like i was dissecting anything, just poking at skin with a scalpel and rolling my eyes when i didn’t draw blood from a dead body — you know? 

but projects have an uncanny way of arriving in your life when you most need it, and just when i have peeled and replaced my wallpaper and assembled and reassembled my keyboards and poked at this manuscript i refuse to rewrite until i did a warm-up that felt substantial enough, the blue lock anime started airing. i knew vaguely what dynamics i wanted to write even back when i had only the manga, but i know i could not have tortured this fic out of me then. not before please let me love you forever, not before loser takes all, not even before all my failed attempts at pitching speculative fiction stories to myself at 3 AM and gritting my teeth at my own disgust. the best aus fall into your lap fully formed and fully realized before you even know what you’ll be shaping it into; they’re a little predestined that way, and aus might be why i owe fanfiction my certainty that the author is just as possessed by the narrative if the narrative has its own pace and direction. i think that’s logic that should be applicable to original projects as well. 

i did hesitate in the very beginning of hairpin turns because sci-fi was such a huge deviation from my comfort zone and i have the misfortune of being both a taurus sun and an enneagram type five. i’ve never tried writing proper sci-fi, not even a little, let alone enough to be comfortable with knowing where to start something that wasn’t merely regular slice of life with a slight sprinkling of specfic. i was sure my writing style wouldn’t be a good match for it. i still don’t think it’s a match, necessarily. my prose is a bit too sentimental for some of the demands sci-fi asked of me — and that’s fine. i wouldn’t know the precise nature of that incompatibility if i hadn’t jumped into the pool of sharks and came out of the tank somehow, disbelievingly, friends with them. i began wary of relying too much on technobabble since i’m not exactly the most stem-oriented person around, but even the background of this au wrote itself, half because blue lock was a shockingly perfect match for the world i had in my mind and half because i found that the technology i imagined for the plot was both possible and easy to break down into the narrative. even now i’m still shocked at how scientifically sound the core pitch of the story is, and the fact that it married itself well to both the overarching plot and the character dynamics i wanted to highlight was just icing on a cake i would have tried to politely finish anyway. 

it could very well be that hairpin turns is just a fluke, its parts too seamlessly glued to each other that i’m not sure it could have been anything else except luck doing the work there, but i think there’s also credit to be found in how nothing is sacred in blue lock. these are characters who have done ridiculous things and said ridiculous things, and it was a matter of matching their energy. therein is the same lesson from loser takes all: if i’ve always known that characters decide the pace, tone and atmosphere of the story and everything else in it, then doesn’t it also go to say that in order to write a story far out of my comfort zone, i need only start with characters far outside of my comfort zone?

i think with au fics in particular, a lot of the work begins with justifying why certain things are in character for them in this universe based on what we know from canon. but because those boundaries are expanded by what blue lock innately is, it doesn’t feel as weird to posit something like, what if you and your android bf get tasked with rescuing his older brother’s android bf and find out along the way that you might also both be in love with your childhood best friend? as with most other of my initial ideas, this quickly spiraled into something significantly different — which luckily for me included the memory loss idea that i’ve been wanting to explore for forever now. proper sci-fi was the perfect backdrop for it, and bachira the perfect person to willingly do it, and isagi and rin the perfect people to be left in the aftermath of that loss. stars aligned, truly. i’m incredibly grateful for it. 

whatever challenges i encountered writing this fic had nothing to do with writing it. it was as smooth to write as it was an absolute pain to edit, because the three povs are so vastly different from each other, and with no outline to mentally check each time i add a new scene, i was reliant on going back and forth again and again to make sure the worldbuilding is cohesive and the plot is coherent. at some point i couldn’t look at it anymore, and it might even be a testament to how much i appreciate the fic that i still can’t look at it now yet cannot deny how fond i am of the final result. 

with sci-fi in particular, it really is a case of faking it till you make it, and whatever lies don’t feed into each other, you can always revisit and adjust later. that’s the common sense magic of fiction, i suppose. there’s a degree of patience i held onto writing hairpin turns that i wouldn’t have had with any other previous work, and i think it benefited me more to have all three chapters written in varying increments, out of my usual linear order, than publishing it chapter by chapter. i had all the room to experiment — what does the world look like in 2070? is 2070 even the right year to set this in? is there anything big happening around that time period? how does the lingo change in the time between present and this potential future? when i run into things that feel too out of my depth to write, like isagi’s pov for instance, do i actually have a justification for saying no other than how it will be easier than trying? are there benefits to giving bachira the final chapter that i’m being biased against because i think it would be a challenge? and between all of these choices, how do i adapt existing blue lock canon, from their playstyles to the favourites listed in the egoist bible, to worldbuilding in other forms of media that i’ve always wanted to try a different approach to? 

i used to think it was unnecessary and superfluous to go into writing something while getting bogged down by stray facts about characters, in both fic and original projects, but at the same time, it’s truly the tiny details that will humanize more than knowing a character’s birthday or what traumatic events lie in their backstory. tiny details that breed more tiny details, until it’s about the fact that bachira and isagi are childhood friends in this au yet when we meet bachira again he’s calling isagi by last name, or how rin understandably questions the validity of his own humanness because we can only assume sae had recreated him in grief or defiance against mortality or whatever other emotion that we’ll never know for sure because we only ever see sae in this fic through rin, and that matters a lot more than if i gave sae a pov — and yet rin manages to love through the small things, in how the warehouse is in an eternal sunset waiting for bachira to return to him and isagi. it’s about how first love, late spring was about learning how to love someone else the way they need you to when you weren’t loved the way you needed to be, but hairpin turns is about how spending your whole life never questioning if you were loved can rob you of the facilities to put a name and shape to what you feel for someone who’s always been in your life. the things you don’t take for granted, necessarily, but you do love for granted by not calling it love.

hairpin turns is about the pieces obscured from view and all the more present because of it. it’s about lost memories, the phantom outline of a person like a haunting. it’s about how sae never once appears in a direct scene yet he looms over rin’s existence. it’s about how rin’s chapter represents the past, isagi’s the present and bachira’s the future, but time matters little in the end — how could it weigh any more, in a story about memory? it’s about the uneasy momentary peace that’s the only scene we can count on as a happy ending. it’s about the lengths you’ll go to get the chance to be ordinary about your love, even if all else about it is unconventional. 

and yet above all, what i like best about this fic is that it works towards questions that feel like being given answers. some of my other fics try to provide answers to its characters and the readers they resonate with, to give them a way to be well-equipped to move forward, while a few other fics settle on non-answers because uncertainty is the only ending there is. but hairpin turns moves outward only to ask more questions, questions that are the answers and the thesis, yet in a way that isn’t strictly open-ended. and i have no fucking clue how i managed it, but this feels like the target i’ve been itching to catch sight of this entire time. this is the kind of story and process i would like to aspire to this year, and even though it had taken me 80k to glean what i needed from it, i’m glad i stayed with this fic as a warm-up. 

anyway. this got a bit away from me, and who knows, maybe this level of pretentiousness is only because i’m still riding the high of affection for my most recent brainchild to make it to college — but i’m not totally blind to the flaws in hairpin turns. the execution of the ending itself is clunky, not because it doesn’t resolve anything but because it does, and by then, the post-rescue section has gone on for long enough that even an ending feels like an epilogue. the story overall lacks complete confidence in what it is, with some parts shadowed by a slight hovering hesitation and others weighed down by a heavy hand showing too much kindness to my non-confidence. it’s never too heavy-handed, and definitely not so much that i’ll send it to the bin, but enough that if i want something to pick apart, there are stray choices hiding in places that i’d circle as an editor for feeling too sentimental, or the tone too dissonant with the pacing, or, ironically, not explored enough. in the genre i’m used to writing, the adrenaline rush is in finding the right balance within a new choreography for a dance style i know well, but in my first real foray into speculative fiction, i think i was just trying to find my footing the whole time. i’m still surprised i made it to the other end of the tightrope, honestly. i didn’t expect to applaud myself for the bare minimum, and i still don’t. 

but all of this is a lesson for me, too. what i do know is that it’s interesting to tell a story about what’s missing, about the unsaid and the unseen, and if that’s what it will take for me to rediscover excitement in what i write so that i don’t have to sink back into the ennui of these last couple of months, then that’s a pretty darn fun goal to spend the rest of the year unpacking. 

[akihabara-division03]

ARB Birthday Special: Makina Setsukura

~ September 1st ~

“Lost is a lovely place to find yourself.”

Login Lines

“Happy Birthday to myself and everyone else celebrating their birthday today. What a time to be alive, am I right?”

“Part of me is excited to eventually become an adult with all the adulty perks. But at the same time, I don’t feel like I’m ready to grow up… so while I still can, I just wanna feel like I’m alive with the people I care about the most.”

Voice Lines

“Hellooo. A whole fucking year’s passed, isn’t that wild? It really just zoomed on by. I’ll say it again and again, but it’s shocking how much time’s passed. Like, slow down… please? I want time to just slow down.”

“I think my viewers left presents and fan mail in my P.O. Box. I planned for a big birthday stream for the majority of the day, just to spend some fun time with chat and thank them for the gifts. We’ll look through all the cute fanart on social media, play some games together, and I’ll have a couple of collabs with some streamer friends, too. Aaaaand I’ve got some fun surprises for chat, too.”

“Oh, Anika… thank you… Yeah, we couldn’t celebrate last year… ‘cuz of… Right… different… What the… stop sounding so cheesy… Urgh, today’s not the day for me to cry, dammit, I have makeup on…”

“You got me a present? Can I see it now? Isn’t this one of those ccomo mini fridges? It’s the brown bear fridge… I mean it’s really cute… and it’s got a lot of storage space… It’ll be good when I stream so I don’t have to leave my room to get snacks… What the fuck, why was that so backhanded… Ah shut up… and thanks…”

“Oh hey, Shian… thanks. Oh… was that two years ago? Oh yeah, it was… It felt like yesterday but it also felt like so long ago. I can’t thank you enough… really… Ah, shit, I didn’t want you to hear that… Ugh… thanks…”

“A pink…handheld carousel…? With pink bunnies? It’s a projector? How… Oh, ok, I see how it works now. That’s cool. And it’s really cute. A gift for kids? … I can’t even be mad about that…”

Anika Lines

“Hey, Happy Birthday, kiddo! This is my first celebrating your birthday with you. Right… But this year is different! There’s nothing I wish more than for you to live your life to the fullest. I’ll make sure of it. Haha! Oh no! We don’t want you to cry all that mascara off haha!”

“While we’re still here, you gotta open your present. Yeah! Go ahead! Exactly! This way, you can keep it and your snacks, strawberry milk, other energy drinks in your room and you don’t have to leave your snack rubbish in the kitchen and you can at least keep the mess within your own room! Really, looking at you hugging that thing, it’s almost half your height. That’s so cute! Oh, but still please throw away your rubbish, even if you do keep them within the confines of your room.”

Shian Lines

“Yo, Makina. It’s your birthday today, isn’t it? Damn, where has all the time gone? I swear it felt like yesterday when I first met you, but that was just barely two years ago. I heard that. No need to thank me. It was two years ago and it was the right thing to do. You deserve a good life.”

“Enjoy your present. It’s a device that projects moons and stars on your ceiling, walls, pretty much anything. It also works as a music box. It’s supposed to be a gift for kids, but I think it’ll look cute in your room and it’ll be fun to show your viewers.”

[invisiblegarters]

So my inexplicably intense adoration for Between Us combined with not really feeling too many other dramas at the moment the same way means I’m going through withdrawals, and I figured what better way to mitigate the problem then search out the other things that I know that Boun and Prem have done together so that at least I can see if their chemistry was something I’m really into or just a fluke of circumstance (hey, that happens. Sometimes you just get hit with something at the exact right time and then later you watch something else with the same people and you’re like, huh. Okay, those are definitely two people aren’t they).

So there were two things on my radar, because I just won’t watch UWMA. And with my usual ability for restraint, I barreled through both in about...a day? A day and a half? ish. Don’t be too impressed. They were both fairly short and I had time on my hands; it wasn’t a feat. 

Anyway, without further ado, thoughts:

7 Project - Once Upon a Time

I quite liked it, actually. They did what they could with the time constraints, and though I wish that the reunion had been more than what it was it still worked. And I thought that Prem especially shined in this. He was given the real meat of the story, actually, and he did very well with it. From the first moment that you learn what the main conflict is between Mek and Balloon you know exactly where it’s heading, and you can only watch them head towards the inevitable crash with sympathy. Relationships that you can’t be open about are hard regardless, but when one of you wants to be they tend to breed resentment. 

I actually kind of wish that the reveal that Mek had seen Balloon struggling and presumably decided to end it after that hadn’t happened, though. I’m sure I wasn’t getting all of the nuance here but it felt a little too good, like he was sacrificing his happiness to make things easier on Balloon, and I’ll be honest, I’d have preferred a more selfish reason. I don’t know, I guess I just wanted more, but as I said it did okay with the time they had. 

Even Sun

This one. What a mess of a drama. 

I didn’t dislike it as much as some - in the end I think I gave it a rating of 7, and that was because I had fun in spite of the mess (not a good mess) and laughed a bit, and also because I actually really enjoyed the antagonistic thing that Arthit and Sun had going on. The romance was rushed though. They could have cut out most of the dad stuff and taken a little more time with it. Or have the whole servant thing start even an episode or two earlier, with all the forced proximity (and the handcuffs). 

There was so much wasted potential here, and that annoys me. I can see the bones of what could have actually been a good show, and it frustrates me because all they really had to do was start the forced cohabitation and debt repayment shenanigans early and let Boun and Prem’s chemistry do the rest. As it was I’m not entirely sure why Sun even liked Arthit, except that he is very pretty.  As for Arthit’s interest in Sun, well, even ignoring the knew each other as kids bit (which they really should have dropped if they weren’t going to do anything with it, like so much of this drama), if Arthit was stalking Sun around the island whenever he wasn’t telling him to gtfo it makes a weird sort of sense to me, because somehow I came out of this smitten with the day glo haired dumbass too. 

No really I adore him. 

I don’t even think that they needed to have more episodes. I just think that they needed to cut out some of the filler. 

The second couple actually worked for me better. They had a coherent arc that wasn’t too bogged down by all the extras the same way the main plot was, and while they didn’t get a lot of screentime you could follow the trajectory of their relationship easily. 

Mouthy Lawyer Friend was cute. Baby Bro was adorable. Scammer friend was there. And they should have cut out Cutest Baby Bro’s whole boyfriend drama, because it added literally nothing to the plot in the end, and also the gag at the end was stupid. 

Not!Bee kept making me laugh. I’m sorry I don’t know what it is but I just couldn’t take him seriously as a hard ass debt collector. He looks 12 and actually less intimidating than the actual 12-year-olds I know. I liked him a lot better when he softened up. 

Things I liked: Sun, the BFF back home, every time Sun and Arthit interacted, the handcuffs and bed sharing. Episode 6 almost in its entirety, although it felt like the end to a better show. The island. That place was gorgeous. I would gladly be some random set person on that drama just to get a chance to be on that island. Sun asking Arthit how much he’d have to borrow from him so that he would never have to leave (yes that’s ep 6 but it was a good little scene). 

It also introduced me to my new favorite song:

The version in the drama is slower, but I think I like this one better. 

I can’t say that either of these filled the hole Between Us left (probably I’ll just cave and rewatch it, then probably do the same again until the fixation lands somewhere else), but at least now I know that I do like this pair, and if they do something else together I will definitely check it out. Hopefully they’ll get something good, I feel like they’ve been let down by bad writing more often than not.

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

tagged by @morihaus! thank you for thinking of me!! c’:

describe one wip you’re planning to work on over the summer: I have made the teeniest of dents in the Amanda Lee revelation chapter which I consider a great success! also have a handful of short pieces I’m working on besides the ones for tesfest. the one closest to being done is one I thought would be a good primer for how I’ve been thinking of the mechanics of restoration in a less um. immediately urgent setting lol.

recommend a book: OBLIGATORY: read Peter S. Beagle. cough. anyway I think while last time I recommended books I hit a couple of my favorites but I’ve been thinking about Anna Pigeon again so let me tell you once more in more detail about Nevada Barr’s Anna Pigeon series. gimmick setting mysteries where the gimmick setting is a different national park each time bc Anna Pigeon is a middle-aged park ranger, who used to be on the tech side of live theatre, has a Tragic Past involving a Dead Husband of Many Years Ago, is 100% unknowingly bisexual (which I would say is just me projecting but 1. Barr has written at least one book about a wlw relationship and 2. for a while she lives with her lesbian friend and is like oh :( I’m so sad eventually she’ll find a gf and I’ll have to stop living with her :( if only I were gay and also her type so we could keep living together :( like... ma’am.), and she’s so much fun. I love her. Track of the Cat is the first one and the ending KILLS ME. light spoiler territory ahead, but listen. LISTEN. do you want to read about a scrawny 40-something woman covered in blood and leaving a man to certain death? OF COURSE YOU DO. read the Anna Pigeon books. pls.

recommend a fic: as always, everything in my fic rec tag is, obviously, a hearty and resounding recommendation!! however I am also going to take this opportunity to plug EBStarr’s Cordano work bc they get it. I have never otherwise seen someone who nails their characterization and dynamic so precisely so naturally I come back to their work every so often like a moth to candlelight. OBSESSED. had the jaw-dropping realization a few months ago that they were apparently only like 17 when they wrote these and then I had a bit of a crisis lol. EBStarr if you’re out there I NEED to know what you’re writing now bc I think you’re a genius

recommend music: the song I have been looping for days on end now, from my all-time favorite band: Nothing Lost by Anberlin. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again Stephen Christian’s voice could resurrect me!! it’s from what was previously their most recent EP until like three weeks ago and the most recent one is ALSO exceptionally good, this is just what’s currently feeding the brain worms

share a piece of advice: run the garbage disposal in your sink every couple days even if you don’t think you need to. trust me you do need to you really really need to please my friends listen to me do not make my mistakes run your garbage disposal right now

tagging the usual suspects @bwayfan25, @codenamesailordarillium, @flugames and anyone else who wants to do it (please do it and say I tagged you I love tag games and seeing what people’s answers are!! :D)

[galacticlamps]

tagged by @amyp0nd (thanks!)

Tea, coffee, or soda? Definitely tea! I’ll drink coffee if I need caffeine & there’s no tea available, but soda I don’t drink at all, except as an ingredient in some cocktails (and even then, it needs to be a really worth it cocktail tbh)

Dogs or cats? Cats!

Can you play an instrument?  alas, no

What’s your sun sign? that’s the main one right? if so then capricorn

First song lyrics that came into your head?  i have trained myself, going shelf by shelf, and i know every item in the stoooore, every tube, jar, box, bottle, carton, and container, where they are, what they cost, what they’re foooooor

for first-class clerking and conscientious working, Mr Maraczek why not tryyyyyy meeee

(Don’t ask me how She Loves Me got inside my brain today lol I couldn’t tell ya)

Do you have any tattoos? nope. I’m kinda interested in the concept but idk if I’d ever go through with it - it’s hard to imagine reaching a point in my life where that doesn’t feel like more money & effort than it’s worth, but who knows

Favorite place you’ve travelled? hmm I don’t have a go-to answer for this, but I think I’m gonna say Ireland’s Ring of Kerry

What’s the last movie you watched? song of the sea! I watched that & secret of kells on back-to-back nights a couple (? what is time) weeks ago but have not yet finished the trilogy, whoops

What languages do you speak? saying anything other than English feels like exaggerating. I kind of drift in & out of being decent with Spanish (I learned it for years, and there are definitely periods when I engage with it a lot - when I’m around a lot of people speaking it, or when I’ll be working through a book of Spanish poems or short stories, or listening to a lot of music in Spanish - but that’s not a constant thing for me & I’m definitely not fluent). And the language I work on the most these days is Irish, but on top of not being fluent in that either, I also have even less occasion to speak that outside of literal lessons

Do you have any hobbies? uhh I write fanfic, I draw a little, I play D&D. There’s lots of things I try to actively learn about, but idk if consuming material on certain subjects is really a hobby of its own or not so I’ll just say I read a lot in general. I also don’t have one particular Craft hobby type thing but I do take on a lot of like, single-use projects? Like whether it’s making or altering or refurbishing something I seem to always have something like that going on, but it’s nothing as consistent as being like ‘oh I knit,’ you know?

You can hang out with one fictional character for an hour, who do you choose? I’m sure this is majorly cliche but the Doctor! I can’t even bring myself to be picky about which one (ok I guess I’d be a little bummed if out of all of them it was Four, but hey I’m only human). I’m not angling to squeeze an adventure out of it either, but a) I’m assuming you could potentially spend that hour, even just chatting, almost anywhere/when, and b) there aren’t many characters I think you could fall into cahoots with quickly enough for an hour to actually turn out a really interesting hang out/convo. But I feel like with the Doctor there’s always a chance you can get to know them as well in an hour as you might in a lifetime (which is probably not great news for how much most of them let people in over the course of a lifetime, but hey at least it’s good for this question). Even if there’s other characters I’d rather be like, actively friends with, for this I feel like you wouldn’t wanna pick someone you couldn’t expect to be fairly at ease with within an hour, and I think the Doctor’s a good candidate for that, being able to bond with people quickly is kinda baked into their lifestyle

Compliment yourself: I’m good at fixing things (since I’m watching glue set rn & hoping it goes well this is as much an affirmation as a compliment lol)

and I’ll tag @uighean @queen-boudicca @terryfphanatics @there-are-no-gods-here //anyone else that wants to!

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

Its been a super duper exciting couple weeks which culminated in an App Store feature for Stream! As an Apple developer you dream of stuff like this but don’t expect it to happen. At least I didn’t. It’s quite an honor and I’ll be on Cloud 9 for a while.❤️

CNN

“Suzanne Somers passed away peacefully at home in the early morning hours of October 15th. She survived an aggressive form of breast cancer for over 23 years,” Hay wrote in a statement shared on behalf of the actress’ family.

R.I.P. 🪦

Marc Adreessen

Our enemy is the ivory tower, the know-it-all credentialed expert worldview, indulging in abstract theories, luxury beliefs, social engineering, disconnected from the real world, delusional, unelected, and unaccountable – playing God with everyone else’s lives, with total insulation from the consequences.

Someone stayed up way too late reading the works of Ayn Rand and in a ketamine driven manic state started writing.

Clearly Andreessen has been smoking his own supply and is so privileged and ultra wealthy he has no clue what real life is like any longer.

I chose to share the paragraph above because he’s basically describing himself and his fellow libertarian tech bros looking to build a perfect society on the backs of a servant class. Us.

One day this piece will be part of some psychological study on the harms of the early 21st century wrought by a class of technology oligarchs.

We’re all just trying to survive out here, save the planet, and help others along the way. You want the exact opposite. All you care about are wealth and power at the expense of all else.

Go enjoy the outdoors with a loved one and chill. Oh, and lay off the microdosing.

Dylan Scott • Vox

In the coming weeks, the majority of Americans will engage in a bizarre, mildly terrifying, distinctly American seasonal ritual. I refer, of course, to open enrollment — the time when you sign up for your health insurance plan.

As far as I know we’re still the only major country in the world with a second rate sense of healthcare.

Healthcare for all is just what the doctor ordered. A healthy America is a better American, just as an educated America is a better America. So, while we’re getting healthcare for all taken care of let’s make all state universities free of charge.

Paul Stamatiou

It was March 2020, I was in New England when covid quarantine had just begin and I found myself much more homebound. In these situations I’m not one to just do nothing. I always have some sort of project or hobby to keep me busy, be it taking and editing photos, writing detailed blog posts, or coding something.

Holy cow is this app beautiful! It’s a real bummer it’s never seen the light of day but I understand his reasons.

It’s a shame nobody bought this from him, hired him, and let him see it to fruition, it’s an incredible piece of work. 👍🏼

Jason Snell • Six Colors

If I had a dime for every “Apple’s going to release a low-end product to compete with other low-end devices” rumor, I’d have a hefty bank account by now. And you can find plenty of stories debunking this report as “sketchy.” At the risk of giving this report more credulity than it deserves, let me try to understand what this report might actually mean.

I’m not a longtime Apple device user, I started in 2006, but I can say this doesn’t sound like something Apple would do. 🍎

Daniel Lemire

The C++ library has long been organized around stream classes, at least when it comes to reading and parsing strings. But streams can be surprisingly slow.

Call me crazy but I still love C++ as a development language. I never really dove into streams, I used std::string, std::vector, and std::map a ton but not with streams.

The language has morphed so much since 2014 I hardly recognize it. That’s not a bad thing, they’re just trying to make it easier to use and safer for developers.

Anywho, interesting read if you’re into C++ or languages and performance in general.

Chloe Veltman • NPR

Netflix recently shuttered the longstanding mail-order DVD service that led to the closure of video stores around the world and ushered in the era of streaming. But now the company appears to be embracing brick and mortar.

Heh, let’s come full circle and open a physical location! 🤣

Now, if they include Blu-ray and DVD rentals that would be amazing! Perhaps they can take over all the shuttered Blockbusters that haven’t been turned into something else?

Meera Navlakha • Mashable

But some spots are closing their doors on influencers, raising questions. Take Dae, a design shop and cafe in Brooklyn. As reported by Curbed, the space was inundated by influencers carrying tripods, to the point where the owners decided to ban them entirely.

I can understand businesses doing this if the gaggle of influencers are forcing regulars and paying customers to avoid their favorite haunt. It doesn’t seem unreasonable at all.

Asher Fair • Beyond the Flag

Carson Hocevar has been formally announced as Spire Motorsports’ third driver for the 2024 NASCAR Cup Series season, replacing Ty Dillon.

I’m happy for Carson Hocevar and bummed for Ty Dillon.

Hocevar has driven a few Cup races this season and has proven himself a fast, talented, racer. He has a lot to learn about rubbing elbows with the big boys but he’ll learn.

As for Dillion I wonder where he’ll land? As far as I know there aren’t any Cup Series seats open. Maybe Xfinity or Truck Series? Regardless, I wish him well.

[Fritz Bogott • AutoDesk Instructables]

After several years of baking in North House Folk School’s wood-fired brick oven, I decided to build an oven of my own. I went a little crazy with extra features (slab foundation, arches, ash dump, chimney, doors, wood storage) and decorations (limestone around the foundation), but you can make a very usable version in a weekend with salvaged materials and a couple of friends.

Folks always make this look so easy! I’d never complete a project like this! But boy does it sound amazing.

I’m thinking a Roccbox is more my speed! 🤣

Ron Amadeo • Ars Technica

After ChatGPT disruption, Stack Overflow lays off 28 percent of staff

Yikes! The industry is at the beginning of yet another transformation and this one is happening very rapidly. I’d be lying if I didn’t say this terrifies me at some level because I’m essentially “aging out” at this point in my career. I always thought I’d have to learn JavaScript to continue on as a developer. Instead I may have to become a “Prompt Engineer” to bend the LLM’s to my will.

I still refuse to call it AI. 😃

Cory Doctorow

Amazon’s bestselling “bitter lemon” energy drink was bottled delivery driver piss

This is an amazing story! How in the world can someone game the system so hard they’re able to sell urine bottled as an energy drink? It also exposes Amazon, yet again, as a sweat shop. This time with drivers.