#if you rb with your favorite line i WILL fall in love with you that's how it works

[2005noroithecurse]

𓏲 ࣪₊ ʟᴏꜱɪɴ' ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ

♡⃕ ࣪ nsfw. minors do not interact ⸝⸝ fem reader, mention of biting, cowgirl, creampie, kinda subby levi, praise, mostly soft smut

♡⃕ ࣪ ft. lucifer, mammon, levi

a/n | I was kinda surprised how much ppl liked this little blurb in response to an ask about the characters crying bc mc is too tight & I had many requests to do drabbles for everyone but I'll split them up into parts so it's easier for me, so this is eldest only younger brothers are next then dateables ^⁠_⁠^ pt2 is here!

feedback / rbs are appreciated ♡

› 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

He enjoys placing restrictions on himself, no matter crazy with want he is Lucifer's movements remain slow. Every slow push inside your cunt makes his head spin, leaving him nearly gasping at how snug you are around him. No matter how badly part of him wants to simply hike your legs up and set a pace that would leave you sobbing beneath him the larger part of himself refuses to give this up.

Your breathing hitches as his hips pull back, leaving just the swollen tip of his cock inside you before pushing back inside against your muscles in a noticeably gentle thrust. His lips mark a path from your jaw down to the side of your neck as the lewd sounds of skin on skin fill the air. Your nails dig into his shoulders and as one of his hands slides down to gingerly circle your clit your pussy clenches around him, making him bite his bottom lip. His own breathing quickly becomes ragged, but his pace remains steady.

He's a demon of discretion, knowing when it's more apt to savor every second spent inside you.

› 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

The confirmation that you want this, that you want him, is enough to nearly bring him to tears. Mammons every touch is reverent, laced with love and each kiss drips adoration down your throat. His hands shake lining up his flushed, precum slicked cock with your entrance. The drag of your warm, slick cunt makes him whimper, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

He forgets himself easily, too caught up in how you squeeze his cock; the push and pull of your body bringing him back in, both of you begging the other for more. Mammon needs to be as close to you as possible, there's no space between your bodies and he rests his forehead against yours and laces your fingers together.

As your legs lock around his hips his teeth nip your skin, begging wordlessly for it to never end.

› 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈

He loses his head too easily, but how could you blame him when you whine and squeeze around him so tight it makes him feel lightheaded? He may be overzealous but it comes from a place of pure need, grabbing onto your hips and bringing you to bend down while he bucks his hips into you. When he feels close, he completely falls apart beneath you, a babbling mess of praises for how good you feel, how badly he wants to cum inside you.

Once he's on the threshold you lean back, hands splayed against his chest to enjoy how full he makes you feel. As you raise your hips, letting his cock slip out just enough before sliding back down you enjoy your favorite view: hells admiral moaning beneath you, fingers digging into the fat of your ass as his hips push up and his cock kisses that sweet spot inside you.

After you feel that thick warmth spread inside you he pulls you down once more, just enjoying the feeling of you still pulsing around him.

[sofs16]

𝗦𝗢𝗙’𝗦 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦⋆｡°✩

all such talented writers 💌🫧

— 𝟏𝟔 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂

• karma is my boyfriend - @writtenfangirl

• (not so) happy birthday - @filmze

• three’s a crowd - @poetsblvd

• exposed - @livin4mybabes

• miss americana and the heartbreak prince - @imthebadguyyy

• back home - @leclercinstagram

• edits - @norizzandpia

• main thing - @lecsainz

• home sweet home - @lecsainz

• insta file - @libraryofloveletters

• ocean eyes couple - @boiohboii

• how normal people date - @lenoraah

• partially right time, right person - @lenoraah

• how you get the girl - @monzabee

• i got 99 problems and ferrari is all of them - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

• im a young man after all - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

• kumquats and oranges - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

• piano prince - @sebscore

• heart eyes - @chrisevansonly

• hope it’s nice where you are - @norris-lando

• under the influence - @pucksandpower

• is this considered a hard launch? - @charlesluvr

• tom holland’s school of manifestation - @gasstationlady

• it’s called love - @racinggirl

• say don't go - @holllandtrash

• daydream - @pucksandpower

• fairytale - @pucksandpower

• uni to paddock

• kiss with a fist

• sink or swim

• resting mean face

• going once, going twice

• my brother’s father

• pick me up?

• birds of a feather

• ideal weekend

• exchanged glances

— 𝟏 𝐌𝐀𝐗 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍

• pen pals - @astonmartinii

• finish line - @norris55s

• sweat, baby, sweat - @vivwritesfics

• heartbreak girl - @auggieblogs

• born for red

• rb admin

• what the fuck is that

• need me

— 𝟒 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒

• after the rain - @chrisevansonly

• it’s not your fault - @chrisevansonly

• i can’t help falling in love with you - @norizzandpia

• reckless driving - @norizzandpia

• all mine - @toms-gf

• tolerate it - @toms-gf

• drunk girls do cry - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

• hoodies - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

• little lando norris - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

• on my mind - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

• not such a mystery - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

• teach you how to love - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

• fan favorite - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

• how does insta work - @flyclaren

• summer boy - @leclercloml

• masterpiece - @httpiastri

• in the middle of nowhere

• overnight

• on stream

• not how we are

• so daddy

• are you jealous?

• from the day i met you

• your hand please

•hail to the chief

• little spoon

• big spoon

• drinks and jackets

• thirsty boy • silly goof gamer

•while it lasts

• i’m not jealous! • delayed train

• just getting by

•wagnifesting

• not a chance

• my distraction

• the alchemy

• london boy

• two wheel drive

• south of france

• do you miss me??

• lipstick kisses

others !!!

—14 FERNANDO ALONSO

• something you paid for

— 55 CARLOS SAINZ • has yet to pass

• to be loved

— 81 OSCAR PIASTRI

• be brave

•beached

• the princess and the piastri

•perfect storm

•two lonely friends

• pretty in pink

• expect the unexpected

�� 00 TOTO WOLFF

• clickbait

[oikawa-tooru]

Hello.....if you don't mind me asking, who are your favorite romantic relationship's couples in books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series (can be canon or non-canon)? Why you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks...

ooo this is such a great question anon! thanks for asking, bud, i've never got this before! Since this question was sent to my animanga blog, i'm going to just answer about couples in fandoms i rb on here!

Even though it seems like I go hard for non-canon couples (which believe me I do), there are so many canon couples that I actually love with my entire heart:

hak/yona (akatsuki no yona)

even though i still have to catch up to this manga, this couple has owned my heart since the moment they appeared on page. they are the definition of a true power couple who will go to the ends of the world to save one another. they throw themselves into danger just so the other can have the chance of safety. they've got one another's back through everything and anything. they will yell at one another but hold hands together side by side as they stand staring down their enemies. i just love how hak inspires yona to stand on her own and yona inspires hak to see the value in himself.

sakura/syaoran (cardcaptor sakura)

they're one of my top three childhood couples. they are just adorable and precious and they deserve only good things ever. they are just children who don't deserve to shoulder so much on their shoulders and yet they do it with minimal complaining. they are there for one another, especially through the hardest moments. he's her pillar and she's his heart. also they jumpstarted my pink x green shipping and i will always love them so much.

inuyasha/kagome (inuyasha)

they are also one of my top three childhood couples. they are everything. inuyasha sees the strength in kagome's compassion when she doesn't see it herself and kagome sees the softness in inuyasha's toughness that he doesn't let others see. they are one of the it couples. they fight, push one another to the edge, and bring one another back without another word. inuyasha's unwavering belief in kagome allows her to grow into a fucking warrior of a girl because his strength keeps her going and growing. kagome accepts all of inuyasha, which is huge for him because he's been accepted by neither world because he's never been enough for either world. but there comes kagome, not giving a shit about the worlds beliefs and going with what she believes in and that's him. it's beautiful.

lan wangji/wei wuxian (mo dao zu shi)

i'm going to cheat here because i haven't finished watching the anime but i have read the novel and watched the live-action show. i have been shipping them ever since i watched the show first because anyone who knows me knows that i love the red x blue ship aesthetic. i love how they went from strangers to friends to enemies (but not really) to lovers. it's a classic trope and i will always love it. the fact that lwj recognized wwx when he came back?? that's true love. lwj is there to support wwx when he doesn't want anyone to see him falling and wwx is there to break down lwj's world, to show that there's more to the world than just blindly following rules. the fact that they went from star-crossed lovers to being married is just the best thing ever. they are filled with all the angst AND they get their happy ending.

On to my non-canon couples (they are kept alive in my heart thanks to ao3):

dabihawks (boku no hero academia)

i will say that i have dropped bnha for now (unless two characters die, in which case i'll definitely pick it back up) but that being said, the fact that dabi grew up the child of a hero and turned to villainy while hawks grew up the child of a criminal and turned to heroism? this shit is so poetic. they are parallel lines moving in the opposite direction, ships in the night, opposites attract in such a hellish way. not only is their aesthetic red vs. blue but it's also angel vs. devil - the hero with the wings bathed in the colour of blood vs. the villain with the flames bathed in the colour of the sky. they've got an apollo/icarus vibe that i love so much. there's so much mutual destruction and they had so much potential to be even more insane than they already are.

soukoku (bungou stray dogs)

they are probably my otp of otp's right now, the ones that really kicked the whole red/blue shipping out of control for me. they are idiotic strangers to idiotic frenemies to idiotic enemies to idiotic partners forever. it's so poetic to me that dazai's ability is named no longer human and yet he's the one to bring back chuuya's humanity to him. i just really love that chuuya, who feels so brutally human so much of the time, hosts a god of calamity and can only be brought back to himself by dazai's touch. like point me to a better lvoe story than that? you can't because they are the epitome of catastrophic love. they don't judge one another's actions because they understand one another better than anyone else can. they are each other's weakness and each other's strength. they will destroy one another before anyone else can get the chance.

[sungbeam]

wanted to ask literally all of them but i had to stop myself somewhere so.

1, 3, 9, 12, 14, 21 for the ask game :p

my beloved bar, tysm for sending these in !!! :'))) 💖

end of the year ff asks!

1. favorite fic you wrote this year

hands down, night terrors has to be my favorite 🤧 i think it's this blog's pièce de résistance LOL and i really don't think i will be able to top it, but i hope to write more things like it in the near future!!

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

oh gosh,,, what a hard question TT but i really like a few of the lines from moon river:

— "Like this wouldn't lead to his heart getting broken again when all that was left of you in the morning was your perfume on his clothes and bandaid wrappers in the trash."

— "'I love you. You can break my heart when you leave in the morning, but let me have this at least.'"

and def many other scenes from other fics of course!!! on of the notable ones that come to mind is the scene from swing my way where yn's friends/coworkers are watching hers and eric's date from the golf cart LMAO

9. longest wip of the year

OKAY WAIT DOES NIGHT TERRORS COUNT???? if it doesn't 💔 then i think it's still bird hunt at 22k :0

12. favorite character to write about this year

but ofc it's night terrors changmin 😚😚😚 my muse forever and ever, i think i fall asleep thinking about him......... literally whenever i hear certain songs, my brain immediately flips to thinking abt him like turning on a light switch 💀 i have. Problems

14. a fic you didn’t expect to write

i actually didn't expect to write flight risk! i wrote the initial drabble that inspired it randomly too, but i never even expected to expand the party people universe, especially this much haha flight risk was never something i expected to write, but i'm glad i did it :'))

21. most memorable comment/review

bro,, i always go back to the night terrors rbs and read ur reblog bar <///3 like im convinced we understand each other on such a deep creative level like ksnckdnf and it just makes me have a greater appreciation for my own fic?? like thank u??? for always supporting me?? and being so cool??? anyways 💖😚 kisses

[forhyune]

hello bae. i started crying (real) (not clickbait).

i remember exactly where i was and what i was doing and what time of day it was when i got this notif. i stopped everything i was doing and read through this like three separate times bc i was just in a state of pure, ecstatic disbelief that u took the time to write such a comprehensive, complimentary thought piece about my favorite fic i've ever written :') i do not deserve you and i never will. THANK YOU so much. though those words cannot even begin to encompass my feelings for u and this rb. let me respond to your comments line by line...

you took this character in ‘crying lightning’ (the song) and completely fleshed out her personality in your fic. the reader is not just a fill-in, or an idea, she really does personify the song. I think I could believe she inspired the song, and not vice versa.

seriously i think u and i were meant to be. and that this fic was written for you before i ever knew you existed. to hear ur perspective on how the song and the mc built off each other is so, so validating bc u know both of them so well; what an honor it is that the reader personified the song for u, to the degree that she might've inspired the song and not vice versa. one of the craziest and most impactful things anyone's said about my writing. thank you so much.

(if i can take a moment to rant about the song bc you've done a wonderful thing and given me the opportunity to do so. but i really do love the song so much and moreover i love the woman that he's singing about. because alex turner always has a way with words but he seemed so especially enraptured by this beautiful, unattainable mess of a human that these lyrics in particular wound their way straight to my soul. "Said, "You're mistaken if you're thinking that I haven't been called "cold" before" / As you bit into your strawberry lace" / "And how you like to aggravate the ice-cream man on rainy afternoons" / "you knew I was approaching your throne" / "With folded arms you occupied the bench like toothache" / "Stood and puffed your chest out like you never lost a war" and of course: "Uninviting / But not half as impossible as everyone assumes you are / Crying lightning" like aren't these absolutely INSANE? the stories that these words hold. just ignited something within me i suppose)

the characterization in this fic is phenomenal, not just for the reader character but for hyunjin as well...timeskipping can get confusing very easily and you kept it linear, so it was very easy to follow. and exciting to read, because we see the little ways their relationship progresses instead of the jarring difference between their introduction and the end of the fic. 

thank you for enjoying the characterization and the way the fic's timing was formatted <333 i had a lot of fun taking them around the world over the course of a year and YES exactly that, showing their relationship progress little by little because hyunjin's goal of "melting" her was never going to happen overnight and, conversely, mc was only going to let him in in due time. u get me!!!

I really enjoyed ‘the game’ we saw being played out between hyunjin and the reader as well...I really like how hyunjin is always looking at mc, and truly seeing her as well...and in the rare moments he’s not observing her she is studying him back. and I loved this dynamic of slowly falling for each other more and more with everything they learn about the other. it’s also funny how in the opening scene they’re so comfortable together, and you see them mostly understanding each other with little effort while the cab driver doesn’t understand them at all. two complex people making a complex relationship, but it makes perfect sense to them.

this whole paragraph lowkey had me tearing up because it's crazy to hear the crying lightning couple deconstructed and laid out in your words; you expressed them so, so beautifully, like "in the rare moments he's not observing her she is studying him back" / "two complex people making a complex relationship, but it makes sense to them" like a thousand times yes that's exactly what i was trying to go for and you have no idea how happy it makes me that this is how they came off to you.

also i loved the way you analyzed the presence of the cab driver as representative of them being difficult for other people to read because nobody will ever reach the level of understanding they have for each other; i didn't think about him that way, more wrote him in as an avenue for comedic relief, but i think you're absolutely right. i adore your insights so much. you are always showing me new sides to my own writing, not unlike crying lightning mc shows hyun new sides of himself with every look she puts him in :')

their dynamic was just perfect too. I loved their hot and cold; hyunjin being immediately smitten and mc having a cold reputation that she’s sort of resigned herself too...I love the opposites attract we see with them, because I think in some ways they’re very similar and that’s why they understand each other...she really doesn’t open up easily and tries to freeze people out when they warm up to her. but we know even though she tries to keep her distance, we can see hyunjin rubbing off on her when she brings him the towel.

i admit i am a big sucker for "hyun falls first" trope because that's so fucking HIM ... our romantic, imaginative, kindhearted man who only need catch one (1) glimpse of someone to theorize they were made for him. he's also said outright, way after i wrote crying lightning funnily enough, that his type is someone who seems cold at first but has a gentle interior, so i feel as though that speaks volumes to his capacity for patience and protection, that he'd be so prepared to return his love interest's coldness with unconditional warmth no matter how long it took for them to start accepting it or, in this mc's case, to start feeling as though they deserved it. that sort of push-and-pull was exactly the kind of dynamic i wanted to write into their characters, so once again i'm so glad that you perceived them exactly that way. see what i mean? this whole fic was written for you

and finally: the hotel room scene. my favorite part of this fic, where we see the total clash of their opposing traits. mc finally cracks and crumbles...hyunjin finally shelves his own passion to calm down for her. like he is still very much in love and has an emotional response, but for once he’s not having this dramatic display of emotions or throwing himself at her. he takes the more careful approach because he can see that she’s finally lost her composure and she needs a level head to bring her back and reassure her. and at the end of it all, all the games they have been playing with each other, he is still there to admire the strength of her vulnerability. they’ve been dancing around these walls and opportunities, but hyunjin shows that he really is serious about her. and in turn, he gets to truly see her for the first time as a result of all the quiet studying and (overt) pining he has been doing.

YOU. YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

i truly almost cried again. idk throughout this entire rb i've been asking myself if this is really about something i wrote but that sentiment was especially strong during this segment. u don't understand this was so. trippy. i didn't have any actual thematic thought processes while writing this scene—i tend not to think at all while i write—so for you to describe the scene like this and strip their conversation down to their most important tenets while also encapsulating those tenets so concisely and accurately is LIFE-CHANGING.

i really loved your notion that this convo was the conclusion of their games at long last; a last round, if you will, because now everyone's cards are on the table. they're all in now. i also really loved your juxtaposition of strength and vulnerability in the same sentence bc at the end of the day that's what this whole fucking fic is about. not hyunjin or mc or how they fall in love but the idea that vulnerability should be admired and cherished and considered as sacred as strength, if not considered a kind of strength, or even its prerequisite.

like i've said time and time again, i feel as though you see straight through this fic and its characters and everything that happens to them, and i will never have the words to express how meaningful it is to a silly college student who word-vomits into a google doc every now and then how incredible of an honor it is to have someone like you to read and see my creations. i love you so much

I love this pairing and as I’ve already said before, I am a ‘crying lightning’ enjoyer lol the love you get on this fic is very well deserved. it was a pleasure to read it, and I’m so happy about the extended content that goes with it. also ‘ace’ is def on my tbr. I love seeing the different ways you write hyunjin and I know it will be a treat to see your next portrayal...thank you for waiting on my feedback and if you ever want to ramble about this masterpiece, you know where to find me 🫶🏻

well. in terms of rambling about cl i fear you've had enough to last a lifetime 😭 dw i will be releasing you from the chains of my yapfest shortly. BUT i would be very curious to know your feelings thoughts on ace hyun because i have mentioned before that that couple's dynamic feels vaguely reminiscent of cl's (albeit much happier overall. mc is not quite as depressed and hyun is a little more of a fool). i hope you enjoy the fic as well if/when u get around to reading it.

thank you, again. i love you, again. i cannot say it enough.

𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠・h.h.

— you're uninviting, there's no doubt about that, your resolve like unpolished diamond and tongue like broken glass. but hyunjin finds you're not half as impossible as everyone assumes you are.

words・11.1k

pairing・idol!hyunjin x female stylist!reader (inspired by this)

genres・fluff, angst, eventual smut so MDNI, some hurt/comfort, some humor, mc is a bad bitch and hyunjin is a #simp, enemies? to lovers, sexual tension, workplace relationship, mutual pining, slow burn, nonlinear narrative, alternating perspectives

warnings・cunnilingus, overstimulation, creampie (practice safe sex!!), mild dacryphilia. again, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WITH THIS POST WILL BE BLOCKED.

warnings (cont'd.)・reader vividly remembers an anxiety attack. alcohol is consumed. lots of compartmentalization and imperfect communication. latter half is just kind of sad in general tbh but what do u expect from a fic based off alex turner lyrics

playlist・farewell, neverland by txt・like crazy by jimin・black friday by tom odell・collide by justine skye・crying lightning by arctic monkeys

a/n・call me victor frankenstein bc i've given birth to a MONSTER (except i actually love and care for mine ofc). this was easily the greatest challenge of my fanfiction-writing career and it feels like my magnum opus; i hope it's worth the wait! also a huge shoutout to sahar for being my voice of reason and my biggest supporter :’) i don’t deserve u i love u

Present day. Cannes, France. 5:54 P.M.

You’ve long made peace with the fact that Hwang Hyunjin is incapable of shutting up for more than five minutes.

As it is, the man has a mouth that runs like a cross-country marathon; then throw in his uncanny aptitude for annoying you, and what do you get? A nonstop slew of terrible jokes and teasing quips, tailored according to his thorough mental manual of what gets under your skin hardest and fastest.

This is the reality you live in, presumably because you were evil in your past life, and you’ve steeled yourself to see it through.

But twenty minutes have passed since you and Hyunjin ducked into the back of a cab and gave the driver the show’s address—and, as stunning as the red rooftops and lazuline coastline of Cannes are, you find you’re more interested in Hyunjin’s peculiar silence.

You move your gaze to his face. He’s looking outside, his chin resting upon the palm of his hand, the afternoon sunlight dusting over his chiseled features like polish on pottery; his complexion an exuberant gold against the cream-colored linen that makes up his clothing.

Maybe it’s because you opted for a simpler makeup look today, leaving the most telling contours of his face warm and bare, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last year committing his every mannerism and expression to memory. Nevertheless, you see through his pursed lips and tight brow right away.

“Nervous?” 

Hyunjin’s head swivels towards you with a small snap, like he’s forgotten you’re here. His lips fall open, their glossy peach color glinting with the small shift.

“No,” he replies reflexively, but then his facade flickers. “Fuck, maybe a little. It’s just hard to believe, you know?”

You do know. It was a huge honor for both of you when Hyunjin was named the newest global ambassador of Versace. For you to be attending the brand’s pop-up show in one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, among some of the world’s most prolific creatives, is truly incomprehensible. Even you’ve been feeling antsy since you landed; you can only imagine Hyunjin’s anxiety.

You have never been good at consolation. You think your mouth is too coarse, your propensity for honesty too strong. But you’ve always known just what to say when it comes to him.

“Just remember who you are.”

Hyunjin takes a few seconds to process your words, but his understanding washes over his whole body; straightens his back; hardens his gaze. You don’t see this change in posture, though. You’re too busy looking anywhere else, all of a sudden feeling quite embarrassed.

Nor do you see the private smile that disperses across Hyunjin’s lips; his eyes softening so, so marginally when they peer at your profile; his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, as if contemplating reaching for you with a mind of its own.

Thirty seconds. That is the amount of time you have left to bask in this otherworldly tranquility. And then he speaks.

“I want you to meet my parents.”

Your arm reacts before your mind can. Without having to turn your head an inch, you smack him squarely in the bicep, sending him crumpling against his door with a bark of a laugh; “please,” he adds, and you’re biting back a smile as you hit him again, with less conviction this time.

The cab driver nearly misses an exit, too busy wondering about the peculiar pair in his backseat and the nature of your relationship. He can’t tell if you hate each other or if you’re married.

One year ago. Seoul, South Korea. 8:42 A.M.

“I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me.”

“For my newborn daughter.”

“Yeah, okay. I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me for your newborn daughter. What does that brat have that I don’t?”

“My genes, to begin with.”

“That’s unfair. She’s using—”

An important-looking pair of women step out of the nearest elevators, the clacking of their heels ricocheting sharply off the lobby walls. Hyunjin straightens his back so quickly he thinks he pulls a muscle. He and Seojun incline their heads in perfect sync, their “good morning”s prim and professional.

“She’s using cheats,” Hyunjin hisses the second the women are out of earshot again, and this wrests a laugh from the older man at last.

Around one month prior, Seojun confided in Hyunjin that he and his partner were expecting their first child soon, and that he would be putting his career on indefinite hiatus to welcome her into the world.

Hyunjin had never felt so conflicted in his life. On one hand, he’d grown closer to his stylist over the last two years than he’d thought possible, and he knew it was stupid to be anything but delighted for him and his expanding family. On the other hand, it was precisely because they’d become so close that he wanted to grab the man by the ankles and shake the decision clean out of his body. He couldn’t imagine a dressing room or tour bus without him.

Today is a Saturday, but it’s also Seojun’s last day with the company. Hyunjin dragged himself to the JYP building at half past eight with much less reluctance than he let on. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Fourth floor,” Seojun instructs after the pair enter the elevator, and Hyunjin presses a knuckle to the according number. “Thanks.”

The doors slide shut; the floor numbers tick upwards.

“What was her name again?” Hyunjin asks.

“Y/N,” Seojun returns. “Y/L/N.”

“Is she here already?”

“No, she’ll be here at nine.”

There’s a small pause. 

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“I feel like I’m being married off to another family for political reasons.”

“God, I can’t wait to be free of your theatrics.”

At this, the two men make eye contact; exchange smiles. The elevator announces their arrival to the fourth floor, and they step through the doors.

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seojun reassures. “She’s the best of the best. I hear she’s basically running the industry these days. I’m surprised she agreed to take you on.”

“I’m surprised an old fry like you knows someone like her,” Hyunjin replies, and the look Seojun gives him is so withering that he thinks he pulls a muscle again with his apologetic bow.

“You’re not wrong, though,” Seojun concedes. “We happened to work on the same project back when she was still a small name, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. She’s a great kid. Ambitious, hardworking, strong as hell—”

They arrive outside their destination, and Hyunjin holds open the door to the conference room. Only to find that Seojun has stopped in his footsteps, temporarily stunned by a new realization.

She reminds me of him.

“He’s forgotten how to walk,” the him in question whispers like he’s narrating a nature documentary, and the moment is over. “Is this what fatherhood does to a man?”

Seojun kicks Hyunjin into the room by the seat of his pants.

The minutes pass slowly. Seojun moves his eyes between the door and his phone every few seconds, visibly antsy about the imminent meeting. In the meantime, Hyunjin makes the groundbreaking discovery that these office chairs are absurdly and almost suspiciously comfortable. All it takes is a chin upon his palm and a few seconds of shut-eye, and he’s suddenly slumped over the table, snoring softly into the crook of his elbow.

At 8:57, Seojun’s phone lights up with a new notification. At 8:58, he notices that Hyunjin is asleep, and closes his hand around the crumpled receipt in his pocket. At 8:59, he scrunches said receipt into a ball and launches it in Hyunjin’s direction. It hits him squarely on the head, and the boy is nearly knocked to the floor like a bowling pin.

“For that,” Hyunjin sputters, “I’m the godfather.”

“Absolutely the hell not.”

Then, it is 9:00.

When the door of the conference room opens, Hyunjin is still trying to gather his wits, wondering if the bastard is leaving the makeup industry to secretly pursue a career in professional basketball. He just barely notices the unfamiliar figure who steps into his line of vision.

“There she is,” Seojun greets warmly, rising to his feet right away. “God, how long has it been? Two, three years now?”

You’re not doing anything remarkable when Hyunjin sees you for the first time, simply walking across the room and bowing graciously in Seojun’s direction, but he is immediately under the vague impression that you’re cutting through space as you move, scorching the particles of air that dare obstruct your path. 

With his head cocked slightly to the left, like a fascinated puppy, Hyunjin watches the stunning smile that forms on your lips when you take Seojun’s hand; your finger as it tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with the elegance of rippling silk. His mind feels impossibly slow, like you’ve tapped open his skull and robbed him of his ability to think.

Then, you toss Hyunjin a look over your shoulder, and he’s reminded of lightning forking towards the earth. Terrifying, volatile, beautiful.

“Something like that,” you say, turning back to Seojun, and time starts to move again. “It’s great to see you again, Mr. Lee. Congratulations on the baby.”

“Please, Seojun is fine,” he answers hastily. “And thank you. Thank you for all of this, actually. I can’t tell you how excited we are to have you.” 

“You’re too kind—I’m excited too.”

Upon uttering the word “we,” Seojun delivers Hyunjin a fleeting side-eye; he takes the hint and pushes himself to his feet, feeling uncharacteristically clumsy as he moves towards you.

The second time he meets your gaze, it feels wrong, almost, for him to hold it for as long as he does. Like he’s approaching your throne with his chin held high and eyes fixed forward instead of his head sweeping the ground.

Except he swears he senses a strange warmth within the rings of your irises, and he spends every second of eye contact following, chasing it, almost craning his neck with how badly he wants to get a closer look. Until he’s as close to you as is socially acceptable for a first meeting and comes to a halt.

He ends up losing its trail, but he won’t forget that it’s there. 

“My client, I’m guessing?” You say, extending your hand. “Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

Your fingers are freezing cold where they meet his, and Hyunjin already knows that melting the permafrost that coats your flesh and guards your soul will be the tallest task of his life.

But he finds his next words accompanied by an involuntary smirk; he’s nothing, if not tenacious.

“Hyunjin,” he returns. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Nine months ago. Paris, France. 6:16 P.M.

Hyunjin isn’t sure why—maybe you forget that he can still steal glances at your reflection over your shoulder or through the gaps of your fingers—but he’s learned over the last four weeks that you’re different, gentler, when you’re doing his makeup.

Your cold hands request instead of demand that he angle his head a certain way or suck in his cheeks. Your syllables are rounder somehow, your voice never traveling above a murmur. Even your eyes mellow out when you move in really close, your pupils dilating as you detail the final touches to the fresco you’ve painted upon him.

Your expression doesn’t give you away (it never does), but his hunch is that there’s a sprinkle of doting somewhere among the intense focus. That would explain why he feels like a flower in the moments when your fingertips and gaze move so carefully over his skin, like you’re touching his petals, trying not to tear them.

Too bad you never let him daydream for long.

“Close.”

“Huh?”

“Your eyes. Close them.”

His lashes have hardly brushed his lower lids when you begin to empty what feels like an entire bottle of setting spray on him. At the moist surprise, Hyunjin’s features scrunch up around his nose and he lets out a distraught hack like an old man.

A few seconds later, the barrage stops, and he cracks open a wary eye to scope out his surroundings. You wait until he does this to give his face one last spurt.

“Witch,” Hyunjin mutters, clawing back up the vanity chair.

“Thank you,” you reply, completely earnestly.

And whatever Hyunjin was going to say next suspends instantly on his tongue when you bring the pad of your thumb to the very edge of his lower lip and drag it across the soft flesh. He wonders if you know how hard he tries not to look at your mouth whenever you tend to his. He wonders if there’s anything you don’t know.

“You smudged your lipstick already.” There’s a small streak of coral pink on your hand when it falls back to your side. “See? That’s why we need the setting spray.”

“Uh huh.” And Hyunjin spots a ghost of a smile flit across your face, gone nearly as soon as it appears. The only evidence of it ever existing is the quickened heartbeat it leaves behind within him.

“You’re done, by the way,” you say, stepping aside. “Take a look.”

He slips out of his seat and moves closer to the vanity, peering at his reflection as curiously as if he’s never seen it before. But that’s how he’s felt since he started working with you.

Seojun was right: you are the best that the makeup industry has to offer. Hyunjin has come to understand this for multiple reasons. Your phone screen is incessantly illuminated by new notifications and incoming calls. The other stylists heed your advice like it’s the law. Brushes and pencils move like water when it’s you maneuvering them. And then some.

He would call what you have “talent,” but he knows it’s more than that. You show him a new version of himself every time you turn a mirror in his direction, like there are facets of him that are visible to you and you only. As much as he delights in the notion that you have such intimate knowledge of him, it should be impossible, considering you’ve only known him for two months. So no, it’s not just talent that you possess. It’s some combination of talent, hawkish perception, and raw artistry that is utterly inhuman—and sexy as fuck.

Speaking of sexy. Hyunjin’s look is relatively rudimentary tonight, the makeup light, the outfit a simple black tank top beneath a jacket and pants made of bright red velvet. But it’s the details that tie the whole thing together: the wide, loose sleeves causing the jacket to slip continually off his shoulders; the inner layer tight in all the right places. His face doesn’t look half bad either, with the sultry carmine powder that fringes his eyes and the intentionally mussed state of his hair. He pushes a hand through the dark locks, regarding himself with thorough appreciation.

You appear in his periphery as you start cleaning up your work station. “You can just take the jacket off when your sweat glands start malfunctioning, by the way. I thought you’d appreciate that detail.”

At this, his smize cracks into a laugh, the sound loud and uninhibited and uniquely yours to hear. “You suck.”

He looks away from his reflection just in time to glimpse another of your phantom smiles, and he thinks it’s so painfully on brand that the two times it’s appeared tonight have both been from you making yourself laugh. You might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. He might be obsessed with you anyways.

“Well?” You implore. “What do you think?”

“No notes.” 

It’s the answer you’re expecting. You survey him from head to toe one last time, decide that you, too, are satisfied, and slip your makeup into your bag; hike its strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you after the show, then.”

You have an important conference call to attend before tonight’s concert, hence why Hyunjin had to come in early for hair and makeup. This is also the reason why the two of you have been the only people in the dressing room for the better part of an hour. 

It’s rare that he ever gets you alone, and he doesn’t want it to end. Not just yet.

“I lied, actually,” he calls. “I do have notes.”

You already have one foot out the door when you hear this, and you turn around so slowly and in such disbelief that he has to fight to constrain his laugh—the concept of imperfection is truly unthinkable to you. Insufferable, like he said.

“Do tell,” you say, dropping your bag back onto the floor.

“You have any jewelry for me?”

You chew on this for a moment. You did have a selection of necklaces prepared for tonight, but they were heavy and numerous, not exactly the best-suited for the group’s dynamic sets. You still like them, granted, and you know Hyunjin would as well.

You articulate all of this to him, and he asks if he can take a look at them anyways. “Come here, then,” you say, the words so tantalizing when they fall from your lips that nearly trips over himself trying to obey.

You take out a flat rectangular box from your bag and set it down in front of the lightbulb-studded mirrors. Hyunjin observes quietly as you show him its contents: three thick, gold chains with varying lengths and boasting different pendants, plus a beaded bracelet and an assembly of rings of the same material. His devious plan aside, he does love the selection.

“You’re sure you won’t be uncomfortable?”

He nods, and you pick up the longest of the three chains; turn to him expectedly. He takes this as his cue to move closer to you, except he overshoots a little, and he feels the tips of his shoes accidentally bump into the ends of yours; discerns the warmth emanating from your body against his own. He expects a withering glare, a kick in the shin, maybe, but you don’t seem bothered by the proximity at all, unblinking as you bring your hands around the either side of his neck and fasten the first necklace with a soft tap. Your fingers then brush over his collarbones to adjust the pendant, and he thinks your hands would have to be numb not to perceive the frantic heartbeat threatening to burst straight out of his skin.

Entire minutes pass before Hyunjin musters the courage to actually look at you. By then, you’re already working on the third and final necklace. It’s not a surprise that your face is mere inches away from his; he’s been watching your reflections out of the corner of his eye; he knows you’re closer to each other than you’ve ever been. But there are parts of you that the mirror doesn’t show—the soft curve of your lashes, the concentrated narrow of your eyes, the shapely protrusion of your pursed lips—and these surprise him so thoroughly that he slips and slides out of his right mind.

You are the type of beautiful that’s been around longer than humans have, the same as that of the true blue color of forget-me-nots. And Hyunjin feels enveloped, intoxicated by you from this minuscule distance. The idea forms numbly in his head that maybe, just maybe, he was put on this earth to admire you.

In this inebriated state, he makes a venturesome decision.

When you finish centering the last pendant upon the his chest, you are about to take a step back and review the updated look, but you’re debilitated by the feeling of fingers grazing over your hip—lightly, so lightly that you mistake them for a gust of wind at first, but the contact is enough to push the small of your back against the edge of the counter. Then, both of Hyunjin’s hands reach behind you, pressing flat against the marble surface, and, just like that, he has you right where he wants you, ensnared between cold stone and hot flesh.

And so begins an equilibrium so fragile that it’ll shatter if one of you so much as blinks the wrong way, your rattled breath fluttering against his lips, his eyes dark and hooded and out of focus as they survey the fine lines of your expression. It still doesn’t give you away (it never does), but he finds that in this moment he just doesn’t care.

“Let me take you out,” he murmurs. “One date.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You reply under your breath.

“You know what I’m talking about, beautiful.”

Upon uttering that last word, he angles his head almost imperceptibly, the movement challenging, daring you to say something about it. But you don’t. You merely hiss out a whetted “you’re fucking crazy,” and that’s his opening to drag this on a little longer; push your limits a little more.

“About you? Damn straight.”

At this, finally, fucking finally, there is a semblance of something in your face that isn’t just your usual mildly-irritated nonchalance. Instead, he detects surprise in the whites of your eyes as you widen them; as you part your lips with a response that only comes much later.

And he’s surprised by your surprise. Surely, with your skills of observation, you would’ve noticed long ago how his world shrinks down to only you and your gorgeous voice and your confident glare and your shitty sense of humor whenever he’s been granted the privilege of your presence.

This might be the first time he’s admitted it out loud, but he hasn’t tried—hasn’t been able—to hide how he feels about you, not now, not ever. It’s been that way since the moment the sole of your shoe met the carpet of that conference room on the fourth floor of the JYP building.

 “Hwang—” You begin.

“Hyung!”

At the sound of a third, new voice, your arms tense like you’re about to shove Hyunjin off of you, but he only leans in further, so that his lips almost graze your jaw and your hands have nowhere to go except the taut surface of his chest. The surprise is gone; now you’re just pissed. He can feel the heat of your furious eyes and the tremor in your hands as you form fists around the fabric of his top. But he takes his sweet time in scooping up the bracelet and rings, and only afterwards does he pull away from you and straighten to his full height.

“Hey, Innie!” Hyunjin chirps, and Jeongin materializes in the doorway, looking thoroughly perturbed by the older boy’s sunny tone. “What’s up?” 

In the meantime, you turn around to snap the lid of your jewelry box shut, and it takes a singular glance in the mirror for a truly horrible realization to settle upon your shoulders. You don’t think anybody would be able to tell even if you announced it outright, but you know yourself and the little nuances of your face all too well.

You’re flustered.

You feel like a horror movie heroine breaking the fourth wall. 

“Nothing, weirdo. I was just announcing my arrival,” Jeongin says. Thank fuck you did, Hyunjin thinks to himself, completely unaware of the epiphany you’re having behind him. “Chan-hyung mentioned you were here already? Why?”

“She’s in high demand.” Hyunjin points out the she in question by jutting his chin in your direction. “The usual.”

“Ah.”

Jeongin inclines his head towards you in polite greeting. You return his hello, but your expression starts to feel tight when his eyes dart between the strange smile on Hyunjin’s face and your awkward stance (still glued to the edge of the counter) as he drops his duffel by the couch. The boy isn’t stupid, unlike his older counterpart.

“I saw a vending machine on my way here,” Jeongin says, turning to leave the room again. “You want anything, hyung? Noona?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say.

“I’ll have whatever you have,” Hyunjin says.

Jeongin flashes a thumbs-up and dips out of the room, perhaps a little more hastily than he intends to come across. And then there are two. Again.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps anymore, and then you turn to glower at Hyunjin so intensely that he thinks you’re about to place a curse on his whole bloodline.

Then, your phone starts vibrating, and he knows he’ll live to see another day.

“You still owe me an answer,” Hyunjin calls as you turn around and leave the room.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply.

One day, I’ll break her, is the predominant thought that resides in Hyunjin’s head as he slips on the remaining jewelry; watches your figure disappear around a corner. One day, I’ll break his face, is the predominant thought that resides in yours as you stalk away. That’s the two of you, in a nutshell.

Six months ago. Osaka, Japan. 3:03 P.M.

When you walk into the dressing room, you find Haeun hunched over an overflowing photo album with her hands forming fists in her hair, muttering to nobody in particular, “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

There’s an amused look in your eye as you set your bag down by Hyunjin’s empty vanity chair. She hasn’t noticed your presence yet; approximately three hallways down, the members are rehearsing for tonight’s performance on the main stage of the Kyocera Dome, and the music is so loud that you think you actually saw the walls vibrating while you were in the hallway moments ago.

You rise to your tiptoes and encroach upon her, waiting until she’s within reach to tickle the back of her neck. She nearly flies out of her seat with a shriek that can be heard over the heavy bass.

“Never gets old.” You hand her the photo album that went soaring also, and Haeun snatches it back with an affronted flourish.

“I can’t remember the last time you said hi to me normally, unnie.”

“Me neither, now that you mention it.”

Haeun and Han are your favorite stylist-idol duo in the world because they’re so eerily similar—and it’s adorable. They both illuminate every room they walk into; they both have grins too big for their faces, laughs too loud for their lungs. You always regret leaving your sunglasses at home when you catch sight of the effulgent pair.

But today you cannot detect the usual radiance in Haeun’s voice, nor so much as a hint of her easy grin. Then again, that’s another quality that she and her client share; they’re both well acquainted with the burdens that come with unwavering passion.

Every stylist has their own modus operandi. Haeun’s is a scrapbook of images that she cuts out and saves from catalogs, advertisements, newspapers, et cetera. You’ve seen it many times before, but never in such a state: messy handwriting stuffing the margins to their very brims, numbers and symbols like clusters of rainclouds over a sea of different outfits, arrows and circles and squares highlighting pant cuffs and cascade collars and dangling earrings. Telltale signs that Haeun hasn’t a clue as to what Han will be wearing tonight.

You gnaw on your lower lip, deliberating your next move. You end up placing a firm hand against the album’s cover and pushing it closed.

“Come with me,” you say. “We’re gonna try a new approach.”

Haeun opens her mouth to protest, but unfortunately you have an extensive track record of being right.

“What do you have in mind?” She sighs instead.

“You’ll see.”

With that, you stand up, tuck a small towel under your arm, and angle your head in the direction of the music.

The two of you make your way through the labyrinth of hallways that comprise the venue’s backstage. Eventually, the color of the floor changes from speckled white to solid black, and you step onto the part of the stage that is concealed from the audience by drawn curtains and heavy equipment. You say a quick hello to the group’s manager as you dip past him, and eventually reach the edge of the curtains, where you and Haeun have a good view of the eight members as they run through their setlist for tonight’s concert.

Haeun settles into the spot beside you, still confused as she follows your gaze. 

“Let me ask you this,” you say, just audible over the din. “Can you style a performer if you don’t know how he performs?”

And understanding seeps over her features like poured tea.

“I want you to watch him,” you continue. “Tell me how he performs.”

Han’s part begins, as if on cue. His voice rings out through the empty stadium as he ducks to the front of the formation, a microphone held loosely to his lips, his face taut with focus. Haeun stares at him for some time, silently trying to fathom her observations, but she sees you shaking your head in the corner of her eye.

“Don’t think, Haeun. Just speak.”

She blows out a deep breath before obliging. “It’s hard to picture Han doing anything but laughing or making other people laugh, he’s so goofy and lighthearted most of the time. But he’s like a different person on stage. He’s so intense, it’s almost intimidating. Not intimidating in a douchey way, though—you just get the impression that he’s very confident in himself and his music.

You don’t say another word, but don’t need to. She’s hit her stride.

“His voice and enunciation are so clear. It’s crazy how he sounds exactly like the studio recording. Plus, his delivery feels genuine; he’s not just reciting lyrics, but speaking straight from his heart.

“And this is gonna sound bad, but I didn’t know Han could dance. Like, yeah, I knew that he could dance, but not like this. His movements are so sharp that I feel like my attention is being—”

Right there.

She cuts herself off, reaching the same conclusion.

“It’s his turn to talk, and he wants you to cling to his every word," Haeun articulates slowly. "He’s demanding your attention. He needs you to listen. That’s how he performs.”

A satisfied smile bolts across your face like lightning. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Haeun pictures her scrapbook again, and there are now only a few articles of clothing and accessories that fit the framework you’ve helped her forge. She’s almost dizzy with disbelief, tearing her eyes from Han to look at you instead.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“I do, but I appreciate the reminder.”

She can’t help but giggle. It’s a you answer if she’s ever heard one. “Do you do that with all of your clients?”

Haeun asks the question arbitrarily, without thinking. But you respond in a way that she doesn’t think she’s ever witnessed before, and she’s momentarily baffled by the sight: you hesitate.

As the song’s final chorus approaches, Hyunjin is the one folding himself into the center of the eight-person throng. You can only see his back from this angle, but even then it’s palpable how expertly and effortlessly he molds his body to the modulations of the music; how much fervor and feeling he expresses with every jerk of his spine and flex of his hands.

Within a few short seconds, innumerable descriptors and sensations skim the surface of your mind—but one word knocks the rest clean out of the water, the way it always does when you watch Hwang Hyunjin perform.

Artistry.

“No,” you reply. “Not all of them.”

And where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?

Haeun furrows a brow, understandably puzzled by this response, but you don’t elaborate. Partially because you feel like being coy, but mostly because you know that any explanation you offer will sound like a confession.

The song ends, leaving your ears ringing with the abrupt absence of sound. The members hold their poses with heaving shoulders, staring out into the empty stands until the stage manager’s voice comes through the monitors.

“And that’s a wrap! We’re all set for tonight. Good work, everyone.”

There is a ripple of movement around the stage as the boys relax. Jeongin jogs over to Minho, hoping to review a particularly challenging dance break; the manager asks Chan if he has a second to discuss travel logistics; Seungmin plops onto the edge of the stage and downs the rest of his water; Hyunjin beelines toward you the second he sees you, because of course he does.

You get a good look at him as he skips closer. Stray blonde locks plastered against his damp skin, tank top dyed several shades darker by the perspiration rolling down his neck, the muscles of his arms actually rippling as he swings them around stupidly, a shit-eating smile plastered across his stunning face.

You’re annoyed before he says a word.

“I didn’t know they were letting fans backstage now,” he hums happily. “Want an autograph, gorgeous?”

“Put a sock in it.” You whisk the towel you’ve been holding in his direction. “Wet freak.”

But he catches and tosses it over his shoulder straightaway, and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle. You’ve seen this movie before. You know how it ends.

“No.” You take a shaky step back. “No, nope, don’t even think about—”

The next thing you know, Hyunjin is lunging towards you and winding his arms around your waist, nearly sweeping you clean off your feet as he pulls you into his sweaty embrace. To your complete dismay, your face presses flat against the clammy plane of his chest. “Call me a wet freak again, go on,” he manages to say through his laughter. 

In response, one of your hands wriggles free of its slippery prison and snatches the cuff of Hyunjin’s ear with impressive accuracy. He yelps and loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t relent completely, not even when he catches sight of the murderous expression on your face and cackles so forcefully his whole head is thrown back.

You tighten your grip. “Wet,” you seethe, “freak.”

“Ow—okay, don’t make it hot, what’s wrong with you?”

“Wha—what’s wrong with YOU?!”

As the two of you dissolve into your fatuous arguing, Haeun is no longer sure that she’s still standing here. She’s not even sure if she’s in her right mind anymore. She thinks she might be hallucinating the way everything about Hyunjin softens next to you, or the way your biting tone only seems to nibble when it’s him on the receiving end.

“Psst. We’ve been placing bets on them. You want in?”

Han suddenly materializes next to Haeun, and she would have been jumpscared into a different dimension if she wasn’t so fixated upon the bizarre occurrence before her.

But what if she’s not hallucinating?

No, not all of them, you’d said, like you were disclosing a forbidden secret.

“Yes,” she says, and Han beams. “Absolutely.”

Three months ago. Seoul, South Korea. 2:26 A.M.

On a tranquil Saturday night, you’re sitting at your desk, your knees tucked to your chest, the newest episode of your drama playing quietly on your laptop, a half-empty glass of rosé and open sketchbook laid before you. This is your happy place—a safe haven that the trials and tribulations of the real world can’t reach. But you think you’ve really gone and lost your mind when you find yourself thinking about your job.

Well, not your job, exactly. More like the man who makes your job feel fucking Sisyphean.

You know your way around fabric and foundation better than anyone, but you have never struggled with anything as much as you have trying to navigate Hyunjin. You show up to work every day ready to just put some makeup on the man; instead, you wind up stumbling around the potholes of his dimples and the hills of the veins that run over his forearms and hands like a hopeless drunkard. Scouring the creases of his smile and the oscillations of his voice like they’re topographical maps. Mentally replaying your interactions with him time and time again like you’re monitoring security footage, trying to detect illicit activity in every casual touch he leaves on your shoulder or waist; every babe or gorgeous he throws your way, seemingly without a second thought.

You’ve been trying to understand him and his intentions for seven months now, and your efforts have yielded no fruit whatsoever, save for a few theories that you feel insane for even humoring.

You down the rest of the blush-colored liquid, and as you set down your empty glass you notice your fingers itch with a familiar urge. The pen that you’ve been twirling over your knuckles stills, then swivels; its tip hovers over the last free corner of the sheet of cartridge paper below you. And then it presses upon the surface and starts to move, as naturally as if on its own.

When you were little, you came across a children’s book that you no longer remember the name of, about a little girl with a magical pen that brought her every drawing to life. You decided then that you would one day be that girl.

At some point, the subjects of your incessant sketching became almost exclusively runway models and makeup advertisements. You cemented that you wanted to work in fashion as early as your high school graduation, and by then you already possessed the conviction and charisma of the industry’s most experienced members. Your portfolio was stellar; your personality prophesied of wild success. So your career took off, propelled by the neverending positions and projects that various companies continually laid before your feet.

You stand and pad to your kitchen to refill your glass, only to bring the entire bottle of wine back to your room instead. With one hand, you flick the cap off and lift the whole thing to your lips; with the other, you seize your pen again, not wanting to lose momentum.

For the year or so after you joined the industry, you basked in your idyllic prosperity. Even the doodles you scrawled on random napkins during banal business lunches would appear on some of the world’s most renowned faces the next week. You had indubitably become the little girl from your story; made a career out of giving your imagination tangible form. And what a fruitful career it was going to be.

If only you knew how it would strengthen you in ways you never wanted.

The first time someone called you cold, it took you a while to realize that they were talking about you. The phrase was said so casually and lightheartedly that it sounded at first like a piece of unimportant small talk. But the whisper of cold bitch was then followed by a bout of stifled laughter and what was undoubtedly your name. Your heart stopped along with your footsteps, and you looked towards the source: two interns whose names you had yet to learn, while yours was already in their mouths.

You felt nothing until you were three stops away from your apartment, and then the bottom of the subway gave out beneath you and suddenly you were feeling everything. Only confusion, hurt, and rage at first, but then the other emotions that you’d been smothering tirelessly for who-knows-how-long tore free of their cerebral shackles too, and together they formed an amalgamation of anxiety that closed up your throat within seconds. 

As your pen studs details into a shapely jawline, you remember how you’d shoved your way off the subway and made a mad dash into the night air. You remember how you collapsed against a utility pole in an unfamiliar neighborhood, how your knuckles paled around the ashen wood, how your tears tumbled over your lips and salted your tongue. You remember wanting to go home so badly that you thought your ribcage would cave in on itself with the weight of it. You remember begging for air, for you.

By the time the oxygen had returned to your lungs, the streets were empty save for you, crouched on the curb, your face buried in your arms, spent, shattered, and alone. You were only nineteen at the time.

You are now twenty-two, and the word “cold” has become a regular guest in the lodgings of your heart. You never invite it over, but you’re no longer surprised to find it at your door. It’s a thief, swiping pieces of you when it thinks you’re not looking—a fragment above the fireplace, a scrap from the cracks between the couch—and you know whenever you’re being robbed, know that you lose parts of yourself upon its every visit. But better that than acknowledging what you lose.

You allow it to walk away with full pockets every time.

Hyunjin does not.

“Three words to describe yourself. Go,” he said a few days ago, the two of you heading back to the tour bus after a filming session. 

You were so used to these irrational inquiries of his that you didn’t bother trying to dodge this one. “You first.”

“Smart, sexy, suave,” he said immediately, but burst into a sheepish laugh at the sight of your weary glare. “Fine, fine, let me think. Ambitious, for one. Introspective, definitely—maybe overly so. And artistic. I’d like to think so, at least. Satisfied?”

The most creative person you knew doubting his own ingenuity was absurd to you, but you nodded begrudgingly. It was a good answer, for the most part.

“Now you.”

Honestly, the thief had surfaced the moment you heard the question, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to inform Hyunjin of its existence. Not because you didn’t trust him—you did, more than you had anyone in years—but because you didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if he agreed. You weren’t sure your heart would be able to take it.

When you met the boy’s gaze, though, the carob brown of his eyes was so curious and so comforting that you suspected that was never a possibility.

“Cold,” you mumbled. “I’ve been called cold before.”

There was a pregnant pause. You found yourself holding your breath. And then—

“That’s a joke, right?”

Hyunjin began to count off his fingers.

“Mean. So mean. Impossibly, infuriatingly confident. Talented, stubborn, strong. Funny, sometimes, I guess, though I’d rather you hit me with a metal pipe than admit that ever again.”

At this, you caved; a laugh erupted from your lips, leaving a genuine smile in its wake.

“Determined. Eloquent. Bossy. Some kind of evil, twisted genius. Contemplative, caring, compassionate. Fearless,” he went on. “You get my point. You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but cold isn’t one—”

He was about to say something mind-numbingly stupid. You could sense it in the air.

“—and not just because you’re hot.”

You smacked his bicep, the smile on your face now an uninhibited, helpless grin. And as he vanished into a fit of high-pitched laughter, you thought you sensed him crack open your door and slip your missing artifacts back to their rightful places.

Hyunjin began to climb into the bus, and you caught the cuff of his sleeve, your feet still planted on the pavement.

“Thank you,” you said.

The tremors of his fond chuckle traveled to your very core.

“Idiot,” he sighed softly.

Idiot, you write, and the drawings are complete. 

When you stand up, the bottle is mostly gone—and so are you. You splash some water on your face in lieu of your skincare routine and prod the inside of your mouth a few times using a dry toothbrush, and then you dive beneath your duvet and are dead asleep in minutes. Your slumber is interrupted only by dreams of a world where your theories about Hyunjin aren’t just theories.

If you’d had even one mouthful less of rosé, you might’ve remembered that you picked up your phone and opened your most recent conversation somewhere between steps two and three.

[3:10 A.M.] To: Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids, JYP) Audio Message.wav

Hi. I’m drunk and I’m going to regret this tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow’s business. There’s something I need to tell you tonight.

After I moved to Seoul, I used to get these bouts of homesickness. Not in a standard ‘I wanna go home’ kind of way, but in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below me. I was always ready for it to swallow me alive. I would’ve been happy for it to.

But I haven’t felt that way since I met you. I realized this not too long ago, and it threw me for a fucking loop. I’ve never felt seen the way you see me. I’ve never been known the way you know me. Every time I look at you or hear your voice, it feels so much like returning home that I don’t have to dream of it anymore.

You called me fearless the other day, but you’re wrong. I’m terrified. I’m terrified that history is going to repeat itself, that another home will slip through the cracks between my fingers and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. And that’s why I’m so hesitant towards you, towards whatever this is, because I don’t want to go through that ever again.

So the thing I need to tell you is that I care about you. I care so much that I’m scared speaking it into existence will make it real and vulnerable to all the worst parts of the world. But it’s not speaking it into existence if I’m drunk, right? Maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ll never even hear this. So it doesn’t count. That’s how that works, surely.

Sorry if this was totally nonsensical. And sorry that I’m so bad at feelings. You must think I’m impossible, and I don’t blame you.

Good night, Hyunjin. Thank you, again.

One month ago. Los Angeles, United States. 12:37 A.M.

When Hyunjin steps out of the hotel’s tall glass double doors, he’s wearing a teatree facemask, and his bags are draped over the crooks of his elbows like he’s an upper-echelon socialite on his way back from a lavish shopping spree. And then he sees you standing next to the curb, and the situation dawns on him in bits and pieces.

You’re the only one here. The vans that were supposed to take you to the airport are nowhere to be seen. Boarding begins in four minutes.

A soft flinch crimps his features. Oops.

“Tomorrow night,” you’re saying into your receiver, but your attention is on him only, your penetrative gaze putting the dead in deadpan. “The absolute earliest. You’re sure?”

When you finish listening to the manager’s response, you heave a sigh that sags your shoulders and end the call with a jab that should’ve splintered your screen protector.

Then, you start walking towards him.

“Hi,” Hyunjin says, his eyes pleading for mercy. “You are so talented and beautiful. I don’t tell you that often enough, do I?”

He expects you to grab him by the cuff of his ear again, to throw him a retort that’s twice as mean as it is witty, something along those lines. But you merely push your suitcase in his direction, and it is then when he notices that your face is hard enough to chip enamel; that your eyes are eerily, entirely empty. The tendril of warmth that’s always dancing among the subtleties of your expressions, that he’s always pursuing to the very borders of his dreamscapes, is nowhere to be seen.

A shiver travels down Hyunjin’s spine as he curls his fingers around the plastic handle.

Something’s not right.

“We’re gonna have to stay here another day,” you say. “Can you check us in? I have some calls to make.”

“Us?” Hyunjin repeats.

“Junghan could only reserve one room,” you reply, your phone already glued back to your ear. “The hotel is fully booked for the next few months.”

With that, you’re already preoccupied with the next thing, turning to the side to reschedule a meeting. But Hyunjin can only stare blankly at your profile, trying and failing to grasp that he’s going to spend a night with the subject of his every daydream. Though you might be leaning more towards the nightmare end of the spectrum at the moment, considering the way your head snaps back in his direction like a woman possessed.

Go, you mouth, and he obliges.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin is in the elevator by himself. He speculates it’s an ingenious, intentional choice that the lights are turned off, so that whoever’s inside can watch the psychedelic lights of Los Angeles sprawl further and wider the higher they go. But he can’t think of anything except for the subzero nothingness where your irises should’ve been.

Hyunjin’s initial guess was that he crossed a line with this missed plane, but the more he thinks about it the clearer it becomes that this isn’t an isolated issue. It’s the culmination of something bigger. Something continuous.

You have become as familiar to him as the lines of his eyes or the ridges of his knuckles. He’s learned where to look for your feelings when he can’t find them in your face; studied your words and the undertones of your voice like they’re verses of scripture. Yet, it was around two months ago when Hyunjin looked at your side profile and couldn’t recognize you. He’d blinked, startled, and then you’d asked why he was looking at you so strangely, and everything returned to normal. He wrote it off as a side effect of sleep deprivation and paid it no more mind that day.

Except it happened again a few days later; again, not too long after, and Hyunjin began to suspect that he was losing his mind. You didn’t seem all that different—a bit more taciturn than usual, maybe, but you’d been busier than usual, too, your workspace always full of empty coffee cups by the end of the day, the pages of your planner more colorful and crammed than ever. The minor variances never struck him as a reason for worry.

“Stupid,” Hyunjin whispers bitterly.

He replays your interaction one more time. You, shoving your suitcase against his palm, telling him to go check in. Him, fastening his hand around the handle, sensing the bottomless void within you, feeling like he’d been dismissed from before your throne.

As he steps off the elevator and walks towards your designated room, he doesn’t understand how or why—but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s failed you.

Nearly an hour passes. The room only has one bed, so Hyunjin turns off the lights, folds himself onto the armchair by the floor-to-ceiling window, drapes a complimentary robe over his shoulders, and tries to sleep. He doesn’t know why he even tries. He’s exhausted, but he knows damn well there’s no hope of him getting any rest until he has you in his proximity again.

He doesn’t look at the door when he finally hears it open, but the knot of tension in his chest comes undone as soon as your silhouette appears in the hallway. He takes out his first real breath since leaving you at the hotel’s entrance.

You hear the sound it makes. You fall still.

“Hyunjin?”

His heart physically aches at how tired you sound. “Yeah?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” you answer. “Move to the bed. You’re not sleeping on that thing.”

He remains where he is, his chin resting on the side of his fist, his eyes glued to the flickering panorama of neon lights below him. You crouch to unzip something, and there’s a heavy thud of metal meeting cloth, presumably your laptop being tossed onto the bed’s mattress.

“Hello? Did you—”

“Is everything okay?”

A short pause follows his interruption.

“I still have a few emails to write, but everything’s been rescheduled, so as long as you don’t miss tomorrow’s flight, too, we should be—”

The robe slides off his lap as he pushes himself to his feet. “That’s not what I mean.”

The only source of light in the room is the lone light above the entrance, but it’s enough for him to see your face and the surprise etched upon it. You open your mouth, utter one syllable, and stop yourself immediately after, stunned into silence by the sobriety in Hyunjin’s expression.

“Enlighten me, then,” you say finally.

“You really don’t know?”

“What is there to know? That you missed a flight and pissed me the fuck off? Trust me, I’m aware.”

“No, that’s not—”

“So what are you talking about, then? Why are you talking in riddles? Fuck, what is it that you want from me?”

There’s real frustration in your voice, and it’s the first time you’ve shown him any emotion in pure, unadulterated form. With this, Hyunjin understands that he was right; this conversation is heading towards a culmination of some kind, and so are you, with the devastating force of a natural phenomenon.

He wonders if you’re prepared to destroy yourself, too.

“I know how you are around me,” you whisper. “You’re always acting like you’re trying to unearth something, and I figure this ‘something’ must be wonderful, because you look at me like I’m made of stars; you speak to me like you’re serenading a lover. But I am constantly, ceaselessly haunted by the possibility that this ‘something’ doesn’t exist, that you’re looking for the wrong thing in the wrong person. 

“I know it’s selfish to ask for anything more than what you’ve already given me—you’re so kind, Hyunjin, and you’ve been nothing but since the day we met. But grant me one more wish, even if it is the last time you ever do.

“Tell me what you see in me,” you plead. “Otherwise, I will spend the rest of my life mourning the months of yours that you wasted on me.”

With that, it occurs to Hyunjin, falls upon and cracks open his mind like a piece of firewood, that you have never been aware of—never asked for—the throne you sit upon.

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides of your dark hotel room. You haven’t felt anything like this in a long time, your chest heaving with your heavy breaths, your vision muddied by both the lack of light and the desperation searing through your windpipe. 

When Hyunjin finally begins to speak, his words wrest the oxygen from your lungs.

“After you moved to Seoul, you used to get these bouts of homesickness.”

Your mind careens; your heart reels. 

“They came in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below you.” He takes a tentative step towards you. “You thought it was going to swallow you alive. You would’ve been happy for it to.”

You never got to listen to your voice note. You were blacked out when you recorded it and horrified when you discovered it in your chat logs the next morning; the wretched thing was unsent so quickly that you couldn’t check for a read receipt.

But there’s not a doubt in your mind that these are your words falling from Hyunjin’s lips.

“You haven’t felt that way since you met me, though.” He is only a few feet away from you now, and getting closer still. “You’ve never felt seen the way I see you. You’ve never been known the way I know you.”

God, you said that? Did you propose to him too?

“You’re terrified that another home will slip through the cracks between your fingers and there will be nothing you can do to stop it.” Hyunjin flattens his left hand upon the drywall next to your ear; pushes you back ever-so-gently against the hard surface. “I must think you’re impossible.”

And he brings his face so, so close to yours; looks at you with so much adoration, so much tenderness, that you feel the final bulwark around your heart fracture—

“I don’t,” Hyunjin breathes, cradling your cheek, “because you’re not. And I want to prove it to you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. That’s what I see in you.”

—and crumble.

You form fists in the lining of his hoodie. Hyunjin’s hand tightens where it lays over the curve of your jaw.

When you crash your lips upon his, he tastes the metallic sheen of electricity and the salt of tearwater both; he witnesses crying lightning, for the first time in human history.

Present day. Cannes, France. 9:15 P.M.

Hyunjin never thinks when he fucks you. 

One part of it is that he physically can’t; his cognitive facilities shut down when he has you quivering beneath him, like his desire to pleasure you is too overwhelming for his mind to bear. The other part is that he doesn’t want to. He’s afraid that the voices of cynicism and trepidation that plague his mind every waking moment will taint the actualization of his wildest dreams.

Lucky for him, you manage to erase his mind on a daily basis with only one accidental touch or an apparition of a smile, so he doesn’t stand a chance whenever you let him between your legs.

“Trust me?” He whispers, imprinting the words upon the inside of your thigh.

“More than anyone,” you breathe, and just this has him tenting against his satin slacks.

Hyunjin used to see you scolding managers or moving racks twice your weight and think that was you in your element—tonight, he learned otherwise. You were so confident that even just the way you puffed your chest out prompted heads to turn and low voices to ask for your name; so charming that even by the end of your self-introduction you had every guest you spoke to eating out the palm of your hand. 

Eating out your pussy, though, is Hyunjin’s privilege alone.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your dress and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of red fabric around your midriff; slides your panties off your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. All obstacles out of the way, Hyunjin winds his arms around your thighs and pins your hips to the mattress, slotting himself between your knees as they fall apart. Your ankles fold over the top of his head, and you’re about to ask if he’s okay like this, but then you feel the hot muscle of his tongue trace over your dripping folds—and every word of every language you’ve ever known is dispelled from your brain and your mouth in the form of a stuttered, euphoric moan.

He teases you first, drags his mouth over you so that he’s lapped up all of your slick, and just when you feel your patience thinning he pulls you apart with reverent hands and begins to suckle on your clit, as attentive to your every solicitation as always. You arch your back so high off the bed that your ankles knock Hyunjin’s head down a few inches, but the new angle is even better; grants him access to more of you.

He reinforces his grip around you, presses his torso right up against the side of the mattress, and gorges: sluices your labia until you’re spilling from his chin onto the sheets; flicks against your bundle of nerves until it’s pulsating and swollen on his mouth; fucks his tongue against your favorite spot until you’re curling your toes, seeing the whole solar system. 

“Coming,” you blabber after some time. Tell me something I don’t know, he thinks to himself. “Coming, Hyune. I’m—fuck—”

Hyunjin is aware of the way you clench so hard around nothing that your pelvis hurts. He is aware of the way you’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re genuinely struggling to breathe. He doesn’t care. He wants to get the cadences of your climax tattooed into the gray matter of his brain, and there can’t be rests in the sheet music, can there?

He presses a hand flat on your stomach in preparation for your body’s protest, then returns his face to its place between your thighs; starts to leave kitten licks around the edges of your puffy folds before you can finish riding out your high. You press your tongue against the back of your front teeth, emitting a pained hiss as you draw a sharp breath, tears stinging at your eyes.

“Son of a bitch—”

“Trust me?” He asks again, his voice vibrating against your sore cunt, and your complaints quiet into whimpers as you bring a hand over your quivering mouth, and nod. 

At least Hyunjin bridles his thirst the second time he eats your pussy open, his lips smacking openly and slowly over your every inch except the one that would be truly unbearable for you right now. He’s so rough and so fucking careful at once like he can’t decide between obliterating and worshipping your cunt.

He’ll end up doing both.

Within a few minutes, your legs have gone slack on either side of Hyunjin once again, and another coil has begun to tighten behind your bellybutton, equal parts pain and pleasure—but he knows your pussy just as well as he does your person by now, and it’s not long before the former is compounding with the latter.

Round two has a faster ascent and a steeper drop. He finds your spot again with the precision and ease of a trained marksman and fixates upon it like a man starved. It has your cries devolving to incoherent profanities and, to his unfettered delight, your foot actually shaking, your heel tapping against the back of his neck every time it comes down.

As if referencing a metronome, Hyunjin matches the rhythm of his tongue to your accelerando. Only when your leg is nearly convulsing does he wrap his lips back around your clit; slide two fingers into the place he leaves empty and pumps them into you until you are liquifying, igniting around him, your mewls lamenting the second orgasm he plucks from your core.

After your body has stilled, Hyunjin lifts his head, his face drenched in perspiration and saliva and you. His eyes travel over the slopes of your arms and the hills of your breasts, over the tears streaming from your eyes and staining the pillow you lie on. It is this last bit that has him shrugging off his shirt and undoing his dress pants with one hand, palming his throbbing cock with the other.

He clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, your mouth falling apart when he rolls your nipples between his fingers, strands of spit suspending between your tongues before dripping down onto your collarbone. You can sense what he wants in his craving lips, his pleading tongue—and you know he won’t ask for it. He’s tested you enough tonight; he’d rather your comfort than his pleasure.

But you guide his leaking head to your entrance, returning his stupefied look with a watery smile.

“Love me?” You ask this time, for the first time.

There is not even a nanosecond of hesitation when he answers, “with everything in me.”

He comes inside you the moment he bottoms out, your name leaving his lips in breathless, desperate repetition like a broken prayer as he topples off the same cliff he’d dropped you from moments ago. You curl a hand in his hair as he stutters against you, bring your lips flush against his ear, and whisper that you love him too—and the sight of you beneath him blurs he also starts to tear up.

This is the reality Hyunjin lives in, presumably because he was a saint in his past life, and it would be his utmost pleasure to see it through.

Two years later. Milan, Italy. 11:28 A.M.

For the last half hour, a ray of sunlight has repeatedly struck the diamond that sits between the second and third knuckle of your ring finger, and the Vogue journalist on the other side of your desk thinks he is slowly losing his vision. But when he asks his final question, your hand comes to a much-appreciated stop, the fountain pen you’ve been twirling around clattering to your tabletop.

“Where do you find your inspiration?” 

As the journalist blinks the phosphenes from his eyes, he finally manages to get a good look at the face of Versace’s newest designer, and he detects something ineffable and warm in your expression.

“My inspiration, hm?” You fall silent for a short time, thinking. “If you asked me this at the start of my career, I’d have said ‘people.’ Their postures, their expressions, their wardrobes. I knew I was a goner when I watched a fashion show for the first time and noticed how the models’ attire helped them harness their innate power and grace—I wanted to orchestrate that kind of symbiosis, too. In that aspect, nothing has changed, actually. I still find wonder in human beings, and not just the ones on the runway. I think it would be difficult not to, don’t you?

“Some time ago, a good friend of mine was having trouble with an outfit for her client. She asked me a similar question, and only then did I realize that it was no longer just people that inspired me most, but a singular person. I had always been skeptical of the idea of a ‘muse’ until I met him. But I could only spend so long denying how he ventured closer to my soul than anything ever had, how he knew me and saw me like nobody ever could. He understood my art. He was my art, so—”

Your eyes dart over your ring, and the journalist would’ve flinched out of habit if he wasn’t so mesmerized by your eloquence.

“—where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?”

A few seconds elapse, and then you clear your throat and straighten your back, returning to your office from your trip down memory lane. 

“That’s the long answer, anyways. The short answer would be my fiancé.”

The journalist laughs, and he doubts you’ll give him this next piece of information—but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try.

“And who would that be?”

He’s right. You don’t answer the question. But you do flash him an enigmatic smile, and for some reason it reminds him of lightning.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[thatfoolsophie]

word count: 1000 summary: once, the witch of the waste and mrs. pentstemmon were girls. they did not grow old together.

i. doubt thou the stars are fire It was a clear night after a blustering autumn storm. The stiff wind that had parted the clouds now ran through the grass and shook down stars from the sky like fruit from heavy-laden branches. Agatha Pentstemmon and Desdemona Brenner did not hold hands as they watched stars fall. Agatha was acutely aware that between grand gestures, Desdemona’s hand kept alighting in the grass, bird-like, inches from her own. “I’m going to catch a star,” Desdemona said. “One day.”

“Desdemona,” Agatha said, watching the dark horizon and not, determinedly not, Desdemona’s hand in the grass beside hers. She could have said That isn’t possible. She could have said By the time a star falls, it’s too late. She could have said You know it as well as I do. It would have been no use; Desdemona did not believe in the impossible. “Agatha,” Desdemona mimicked. Up leapt her hand once more, painted nails glinting dark as she pointed. “I’ll catch one for you too.” Agatha did not want a falling star. But she could listen to her talk for hours under skies like these. In spite of herself, and her empty hands, she asked, “And what would we do with our stars?” Desdemona hesitated only long enough to draw Agatha’s gaze, then flashed a ferocious smile. “Swallow them whole.” A clever girl, but a little wild, their teachers said of her. They were wrong. She was incandescent. Agatha’s chest felt split open, wordless wishes spilling out like the pearls of a pomegranate. That was when she knew that she shouldn’t love her as she did. That was when she knew how a star felt as it fell.

ii. doubt thou the sun doth move The candle by Agatha’s desk guttered as Desdemona blew in. “It worked, you brilliant creature,” she said. The winter wind that gusted in after her put high color in her cheeks and sent her dark hair flying like lightning. The room was suddenly full of her. “What are you talking about?” asked Agatha. “Your treatise. About old magics, about blood and passion and stars.” The memory stung. Agatha spent ten years distilling magic to its simplest rules, trying to understand its heart. She had written a volume on her findings; it was met with only laughter. Brilliant was not what others called it. “That was nonsense. It was just theory.” “It was right,” said Desdemona. “I didn’t understand. The first magic is fire. It’s this,” she said, and kissed Agatha with burning lips. Everything uncertain was seared to ashes. One of Agatha’s hands grasped for the edge of her desk, knocking into her inkwell; the other had found the curve of Desdemona’s jaw, her feverish cheek. Agatha pulled away breathless. “You did it. You caught a star.” She could sense it now: new magic pulsing through her, or perhaps it was the pounding of her own blood. “And now the world is ours,” Desdemona said.

iii. doubt truth to be a liar It was spring, and the eastern sky was golden. Desdemona only ever came by night. Maybe that was why it had taken so long for Agatha to notice the hardness of her eyes. There was disdain in the arch of her eyebrows as Agatha described the young enchanter she taught. “How much longer are you going to go on with this?” she asked. Agatha’s jaw tightened. “I want to teach.” “No, you don’t,” Desdemona said impatiently. “You’re too clever to be stuck here. You could do anything, you could–” “Be like you,” Agatha guessed. Desdemona stilled. Every time, it was the same silent request; go and catch a falling star. You’ll see. You’ll see. You’ll understand what I’ve become. But unease had taken root in her chest. “They say you’re burning the prairies, terrorizing towns, cutting down anyone who stands before you. They say you’ve killed.” “But you don’t believe that,” she said. “I don’t want to believe it,” Agatha said. In her heart, she pleaded, Tell me it’s not true. If you tell me I’ll believe you. Make everything simple again. Morning shadows melted from the garden where they sat; the gentle breeze smelled of jasmine and Desdemona. As silence bloomed and withered, Agatha exhaled, allowing herself one more moment of softness. Over the years she had developed a reputation of her own: fierce, formidable, brilliant. She felt none of these now. But she straightened like her spine was steel, and said, “You shouldn’t come back.”

iv. but never doubt I love Agatha Pentstemmon had known death dogged her for some time now; she didn’t think she would recognize the tread. It had been decades, and still the sound of her footsteps was as familiar as her own heartbeat. She would know her by night. She would know her blind. “Desdemona,” Mrs Pentstemmon said, rising slowly in the sweltering summer heat. The Witch of the Waste’s lip curled. “You’ve grown old.” She still looked the same. Same hard eyes, same dark hair, same clever hands. She cared as little for the passage of time as the concept of impossibility. “You made a contract with a fire demon,” said Mrs. Pentstemmon. “It was that star you caught, wasn’t it?” “Who told you?” Her gaze sharpened. “Howl. You’ve seen him.” Her tone was hungry, and hateful. It wasn’t Desdemona’s voice. Agatha looked pityingly at the thing that wore the face of the woman she’d loved. I wish I had gotten to mourn you. The Witch of the Waste would not grieve for her. “I know you’ve seen him,” she hissed, flames licking her fingers. “Tell me where he is.” To her own surprise and the Witch’s, Mrs. Pentstemmon laughed. As if she would betray her student. As if she was so easily cowed. As if she would give an inch to this cruel creature. “Over my dead body,” Mrs. Pentstemmon said. It seemed fitting that it all would end in fire. With a flash of magnesium-white, she fell.

(names invented by @born-to-strange-sights :))

[demon-girl-2004]

SPOILING YOU

Requested by @hellbornediamonddreams

Gender not specified

Romantic

Nezha reborn monkey king

When I tell you this man has MONEY! I shit you not I mean homie has a whole water fall in his house and a Damn slot machine for liquor!!! Abs he gives the best gifts because their always the gifts he knows you want- like when you think he’s not listening or paying attention- which he always is- and it’s just a sweet surprise

Monkey king RB

I don’t know why but i can see him going both way in he “spoils” you by giving his love and “affection” because he really doesn’t understand spoiling you but on other hand i can see him being smug and giving you lavish gifts just to see your face go red or to see you smile. I guess it can go both way depending on who he's with

DOTA 2 Wukong

I am so sorry but this man is the literal definition of “ I am gonna spoil the hell out of you” and he does it all with a smug look on his face why? Because he KNOWS no one can match him when it comes to spoiling you and that makes him happy as hell. Oh you were staring at a necklace? Consider it yours! Your clothes ripped? He’ll get you the best he can find!

SMITE Wukong

While he is wise in this universe and far more king like he is still su wukong and he still has a huge ego and he is a rash so yeah he’s gonna spoil you! It strokes his ego when he gives you something you thought you would never be able to have especially if you're from a poorer background. Don't get me wrong! He doesn’t just do it for his ego he genuinely loves spoiling you!

LEAGUE OF LEGENDS wukong

He TRIES to spoil you with his affection and fruit! He’ll warp you in his arms for hours and bring you your favorite fruits and foods and meditate with you! I don’t think this version of wukong is very materialistic so things like expensive gifts or lavish things are saved for important dates.

LEGO wukong

He spoils you with affection and a few gifts from time to time but his gifts mean something! Like when he’s spoiling you with gifts they're always things you need or things you have been talking about for a while! Wukong doesn’t like giving meaningless gifts, he thinks you;ll take it as he’s not listening

LEGO macaque

Yes. just yes. He spoils you because he can’t always be around with his line of work. But be warned most of his gifts are stolen! I am serious! This dude pays for things, yes but half the time while he’s paying he’s using his shadow to pick up a few things for you on his way out!

————————————-

Masterlist

I hope you enjoyed this!

[aimfall]

please share any jeansara thoughts you have, i am so curious after seeing your post 👀

ohohoho you’re in for a ride (also thank you so much for the ask I love them so much)

might be missing a bit (been a while since I’ve talked about them at all) but hopefully I got everything

ok so I first thought of them because they’re both my favorite characters and when I was reading their stories, they reminded me a lot of each other. they both:

1. have shitty families who raised them like that to uphold/bring honor to the family name

2. are self-sacrificial, don’t take care of themselves, and don’t let themselves relax because of how said shitty families raised them (basically everything else is above their own needs) & devotion

3. everything they do is for their city & they’re willing to give their life to protect it

4. have strict scheduling and routine

5. are devoted to someone (Vanessa & Raiden); also they both fall back on them for comfort and go to the tree related to them to think (Windrise tree & Sacred Sakura)

6. long/longed for people to love them (Jean longing for a romantic relationship and someone to trust (check More About Jean: V) & Sara longing for friends & Takayuki to treat her like his biological children)

7. are strong and fight but don’t like violence and prefer to settle things peacefully

8. and they’re both just tall strong women (amen to buff & scar hcs <3) who are good people! what’s not to love?

and I think they have neat contrast too!

1. Jean is the best swordsman in Mondstadt, but she would rather be a shield to protect it, and Sara is more like a sword to fight to protect Inazuma.

2. Jean has a lot of friends; Sara doesn’t (but she wants them! so a lot of my thoughts just go along the lines of “what if. she went to Mondstadt with a clean slate and healed and made friends”)

so basically, I thought of them being together because they both overwork themselves and deserve to take a break! and I love seeing self recognition through the other in works, so I just think maybe they could take care of each other and themselves.

I want them to meet and realize that what the other person is doing is destructive to themself, and they’re doing the exact same thing. I want them to allow themselves to be selfish and love and let themselves be loved for once!

I think they’re hesitant and nervous at first, but then they get the hang of things and become more affectionate towards each other. I think Sara is like a big cat

tl;dr: I just love them and I want them to be happy!

I’m always up to talk more about them if you’d like! just feel free to rb this, send another ask, send a message, etc. 👍

(and I’m so sorry about the long post haha)

[tsukishumai]

Hearing You Sing for the First Time

feat. ; Kuroo, Bokuto, Oikawa

genre ; fluff, established relationship

a/n: i know it’s been forever since I’ve done an hc sorry haha. aged up characters bc I’m an aged up character <33 ty anon for the idea ilysm

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Kuroo Tetsuro

accidentally hears you singing in the shower

literally drops whatever he’s doing, runs to the bathroom, and stands there with his ear to the door

you let out the most ungodly scream when you opened the door and his six foot two rooster head was the first thing you see

immediately starts teasing you

“i didn’t know i was dating my own personal miki matsubara”

“Tetsuro, you need to start listening to new music”

will blast your favorite songs in the car on purpose, then turn off the radio when you start singing

says he does it because it’s hilarious when you get so upset, but secretly does it so he gets to hear your singing voice

always makes remarks like “Wow! You should audition for NHK Nodo Jiman!*” or “And you’re doing this for free? Should I book you an agent?”

You roll your eyes at his incessant teasing, but he thinks you don’t notice the dopey smile on his face when you serenade him with the Yarichin Bitch Club theme song.

Has an album on his phone purely of videos of him recording you singing and dancing when you thought you were alone.

(Every single video ended with you jumping and screaming when you finally noticed him. The videos are his most prized possessions.)

Bokuto Koutaro

You thought it would be a good idea to sing for Bokuto at his birthday party. You imagined he would smile, and laugh, and give you a kiss for gratitude

You did not expect him to start crying

not just a little tear that happened to slip past his lash line

no, he was full on sobbing — red faced, snot dripping down his nose sobbing.

You literally had to hold him to calm him down

(no one is allowed to speak of this incident)

He doesn’t ask you to sing for him, because he considers it a special gift, one that he wants you to do for him willingly

and sometimes after dinner, you might end up drinking a bit too much wine, and start singing to him softly in the car ride home

he’s always dead silent when you sing, and you start to wonder if he even likes it, but then you glance over, his face is always scrunched up and he’s trying not to let the tears fall

“if you’re going to cry every time I sing, I’m gonn sto—“ “DONT YOU DARE.”

sometimes, you’d be at home singing a tune while you’re cooking and suddenly you’ll just feel a strong pair of arms slip around your waist from behind.

you’ll stop and freeze for a moment, but Bokuto just rests his head on your shoulder before gently requesting, “Keep going.”

So Bokuto stands there, eyes closed and holding the love of his life while they sing and make him dinner.

and he knows his life is perfect

Oikawa Tooru

the first time he heard you sing was the first time he took you to meet his best friends.

they all decided to go karaoke — a reminder of their more youthful days

admittedly, oikawa didn’t expect much. He just handed you the microphone and let you pick your favorite song

as soon as the first note leaves your mouth — Jaws? Dropped. Eyes? Widened. Breath? Stolen.

Actually gets irrationally upset. “You could sing like that this entire time?? Why the hell haven’t you told me?!”

“It’s… never come up?”

Is completely enamored with your voice

Literally starts bragging to anyone that would listen

“Hey, did you know that Y/n can sing? They’re really good.” “You’ve only told us, like, ten times Oikawa.”

Begs you to sing for him all the time, but honestly, it’s a little embarrassing so you make him work for it

“Babe, show them you can sing.” “Sure, if you show them that you can put your foot behind your head.” “I— that was supposed to be between me and you.”

Now, takes you to karaoke every chance he gets so you literally have no choice.

But honestly, you just like giving him a hard time. You would sing every song ever written for Oikawa Tooru, if he asked.

Specially because every time a melody comes from your lips, he looks at you like you’ve personally hung ever star up in the sky.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

* = NHK Nodo Jiman is a Japanese amateur singing contest 😊

rbs appreciated <3

[uweiy]

Omg thank you so much for the tag @omarandjohnny ! I already had a recommendation post in my drafts about shows featuring mlm relationships so this is like, the perfect opportunity

Therefore I'm gonna start with Number 6. Your top 5 and answer the rest of them in a rb :)

To My Star

The summary did them dirty tbh. It didn't really make me want to watch it but I did anyway and boyy I don't regret it, so I'll try to make a better one.

Summary : When actor Kang Seo Joon gets involved in a scandal, he ends up living with Han Jiwoo, a young chef working in a restaurant. Jiwoo is a man of habit and does not really enjoy his daily routines being messed with, but SeoJoon with his outgoing and forthright personnality might just manage to worm his way into Jiwoo's life.

This show features cooking as a love language, has incredible acting and aesthetically pleasing shots. Engaging plot, believable characters you are 100% invested in, tension but no unnecessary drama. Did I mention amazing acting ?

Anyway cannot recommend this one enough.

Where your Eyes Linger

Summary : Han Tae Joo is the son of the chairman of a huge conglomerate, blessed with a wealthy family, good looks and popularity. Kang Gook is his bodyguard, and also his only friend. Tension erupts between them when a new female student, Hye Mi, shows interest in Kang Gook. As the two go on a date, Han Tae Joo becomes irritated, and soon after, long-suppressed emotions start surfacing. Could there be more to their platonic friendship?

©: Based on Shannon0l0 at MyDramaList

What's with Korea and great acting. More dramatic than the previous one imo but I mean, it's called drama for a reason. I'm just gonna do this ao3 style : bodyguard, high school, feelings realization, friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending.

History 2: Crossing the Line

Summary : School 'bad boy' Xia Yu Hao gets pestered to join the volleyball club, where he finds himself falling for Qiu Zi Xuan, retirer player and dedicated manager of the team.

I've talked about this one already but. It just. Makes me happy. So far it's still my favorite from the HIStory series. Pretty lighthearted, and the acting is just... So damn good.

The Untamed

I like how there's no in between in this list. It's either relatively simple mini dramas or, like this one, full blown 30+ plot-heavy-episode costume dramas. I'm not sure if I have to summarize this one but still, here goes.

Summary : Wei Wuxian goes to study at Gusu Lan, and cannot for the life of him resist bothering the renowned second jade of Lan, Lan Wanji. Life happens and 16 years later, when Wei Wuxian has become feared by the whole world as the Yiling Patriarch, Lan Wangji is the only one still standing by his side.

It's about the ✨👌pining👌✨. and the profound love, and the pretty costumes and the musics and reincarnation – basically, lots and lots of angst, and so much more than just a 'romance' drama.

Word of Honor

Another if-you've-been-following-me-this is probably-not-unknown-to-you kind of thing. Still.

Summary : Zhou Zishu, renowned assassin has all but given up on life and decides to spend his last 3 years drinking in the sun. He meets Wen Kexing, a mysterious man who keeps following him, and Cheng Ling a boy who lost his family, and somehow they teach each other the things that matter in life.

Anyway. This one is about the married life, and standing by your partner no matter what. Enjoy the ride, but get ready for p a i n 🙃

Honorable mention : Love is science

Well. I kinda have to mention this one since it's my current obession lol.

Summary : Between clients dumping water on Ou Wen and Mark's knee jerk reaction when he finds out Ou Wen is gay, their first meetings are kinda disastrous. However through a series of encounters where they more or less begrudgingly help each other, they end up enjoying each other's presence more than each of them would have thought ?

It's definitely about the "oh shit I caught feelings". Yes it's a side couple, but honestly it's rather refreshing that they have an existence outside of their developing bond, relationship thingie. The acting is great, their chemistry is on point and hilarious, and each character has their own life. I cannot wait to see how this will develop.

[wannabcool-blr]

Hello and welcome to my Tumblr! I mainly rb memes and things related to my interests

I appreciate your interest in the chaos that is my blog! I figured there should be an intro so you have an idea of who I am and what I will post. So, first things first….

I am a cliche “basic christian girl” [yes I’m saying it]- I love Jesus, Chick-fil-a, Starbucks and Target. Despite the controversy surrounding the topic, I LOVE pineapple on pizza. If that’s a deal breaker that’s ok. I know that religious memes or posts can be triggering to some, so I will post them with a trigger warning (TW) BUT I will still post them. I have been hesitant to be my authentic self because I fear others will hate me due to my beliefs. I shouldn’t be ashamed about what I believe so I will no longer allow myself to fall into that line of thinking. I strongly feel that all individuals deserve to be treated with dignity and respect despite our differences. I will avoid discussion of politics because honestly, I’m sick to death of everyone fighting. I will not tolerate individuals mistreating my mutuals either. I’ve developed some amazing friendships and that aint gonna fly y’all.

ALSO: my ask box is always open! If you have prayer requests or need a meme or something sent your way LET ME KNOW! I am more than happy to answer any asks and send y’all some love if you need it.

Expect posts about the following:

Marvel (MCU)

- Moon Knight (I LOVE Steven Grant)

- Spider man

- Andrew Garfield

- Tom Holland

- Captain America

- Loki

Favorite Movie: Captain America Winter Soldier

Favorite Series thus far: Moon Knight

I’d recommend: Moon Knight, Hawkeye, Wandavision and Loki

Star Wars

- Din Djarin (Mando)

- Grogu

- Obi-Wan Kenobi

- Ahsoka

Favorite Movie: Rouge One

Favorite Series thus far: The Mandalorian

I’d recommend: The Mandalorian and Clone Wars Series

Twenty One Pilots

Favorite Album: Trench

Current Favorite Song: Saturday

Tyler Joseph is awesome and the best [totally a Tyler stan ]

Fun Fact: I know the entire discography by heart [I can even rap Ode to Sleep] *big flex lol

I watch a lot of television [when I’m not doing an enormous amount of homework] and I’ve decided to rate some of the things I watch. I have watched several horrible movies and I’d love to save you the hours I spent watching. There really is no sugar coating if it is bad… so my ratings are as follows:

⭐️Awful (up to) ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Fantastic

Context: I primarily watch movies related to Marvel or Star Wars [I’m biased ok?]

I am not a huge fan of DC but I’ve watched all the movies. Ex: I enjoyed Suicide Squad (2016) and Wonder Woman (2017). In my personal opinion, Micheal Keaton is the best Batman [no debate]. * and no I haven’t seen the new one yet

I appreciate you following my blog and I hope we can become well acquainted :)

[dingyuxi]

z anon again also i agree w yamh!! it's always so refreshing to see no love triangles!!!! also DID YOU SEEEEEE YUMI'S CELLS 2 IS GETTING RELEASEDDDD IN JUNEEEEEEEE. like i was emo over why her being released late but to think that two of my most anticipated dramas are going to be airing the same time *melts* also plus and minus is the first taiwanese bl ive seen but im soooo in love w it!! i swear good bls keep coming out, maybe it's because i'm watching based on what i see you rb/create hehe. also sooo tru, kinnporsche is full of eye candy but i also enjoy the banter and action scenes. like i think it's my favorite thai drama overall so far, altho i'm not too exposed to thai media!! also thank u for validating that i dont need to finish it because it is... definitely not worth it imo. like the more i sit w the fact that they used the slur sm the more i'm like :/// not for me....also i don't mind xu kai but a mutual literally hates him so going into falling into your smile i was expecting like full blown terrible 발연기 but it wasn't bad at all kdgjnkjn. shooting stars is v mediocre which is a shame, and since i'm part black the problematic elements of the drama have caused me to drop it. the only reason i'll watch the drama r cameos since ik we're getting a find me in your memory cameo/reunion!!!!! i hated our blues tbh but i'm enjoying the highschoolers' plot and look forward to han jimin and kim woobin. i feel like han jimin can do no wrong, she could be a murderer for a role and i'd be like "ykno, maybe they deserved it..." also thank u!! i will add these to my watchlist for more dramas! this week and next are my wrapping up as well so it is hectic but then we have summer to relax!! at least i do since i'm not doing an internship this yr!! hang in there and i hope you receive the grades you desire!! also i've been seeing your gifsets for going to you at 493km/h and I LOVE THIS DRAMA SM!!! i think the two leads have great chem and are really underrated actors so hopefully the ratings get better :( also jo hanchul always delivers w whichever role he chooses!! ALSO since my last message i've been watching miss crow and mr lizard and i'm alr on ep 18.. IT'S SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!! - z

hiiii this is very late but here I am!! Finally responding 💕💕💕I SAW THE POSTERS YES. i admit I didn’t watch season one but jinyoung is lead this time so!! i might just have to watch now. what’s your other most anticipated drama? the BLs are really stepping up their game recently. it’s great to see. i can’t wait for to my star 2 to drop because we need that natural chemistry back in our screens again and hwang da seul beloved we can always trust her to deliver. I’ve still only gotten a chance to watch the first ep of plus and minus but!!! i really like their dynamic so I’ll probably just binge it eventually. “maybe it’s because I’m watching based on what you rb/create” 🥺🥺 now the pressure is on! hopefully I don’t lead you astray fjsks. LOLLL why does she hate xukai spill the tea. i don’t really have any opinion on him except he had that one set is photos and I was like oh? He’s kinda hot here. I’ll be honest I dropped shooting stars I watched the first episode and then never continued it just didn’t grab me enough I guess. oof yeah I can see how that would hit too close to home, I support you dropping it, you gotta do what’s best for you! i also dropped our blues lmfaoo it was too depressing and also the women keep getting the short end of the stick. i was watching mostly for the high schoolers too but even then the writers chose the messiest plot lines I swear. also the anti-abortion propaganda was going full force. LAP is cute, ngl I was getting a little annoyed at everyone being as*es to taeyang tho and the continuous circling around the big “secret” but at least this week we got some progression in the right direction! MISS CROW AND MR LIZRAD!! Ugh I loved the otp there sm (the ending was annoyingly rushed tho 😔 but other than that! loved them) I’ve been in the mood for crime/investigation dramas recently so that’s what I’ve been watching most recently. Congrats on finishing your semester and I hope you get to spend a really fun a relaxing summer vacation! You deserve it ^^

[aftgficrec]

Idk if y’all do this but I don’t know who to ask but your favorite aftg SPOTIFY playlists? I like the “Andrew in clubs” by rb and the “andriel/AFTG” by sunellix but so far my favorite has been “untitled 1” by palmettofoxden because they made a tumblr post that went with it and I loved how they included the reason to each song. So if you can find playlist AND post related like that one I’ll love y’all more !!! Thanks

Oh, friend, you have no idea what you just got yourself into here.  You want playlists?  We’ve got playlists (and a little personal commentary from us).  A number of fics have amazing playlists to go along with them, so we’ve included little bits of info and links to those fics; then there are playlists for characters, and some general ones for the books.  We didn’t really find Tumblr posts to explain song choices, but we hope you enjoy this collection anyway! -M

NB: Fic links go directly to AO3. You can click on ‘recced here’ to see the trigger warnings that we’ve previously listed.

Playlists Based on Fics 

Red Rabbits Universe series by bloodydamnit, Jeni182, SeaBear13, windeavesdrops [Rated M-E; 647408 words in 3 works; 2 Complete 2019/2020, 1 WIP] (recced here)

If you’re unfamiliar with Red Rabbits then you’ve probably been living under a rock. From the very beginning the team behind this true crime themed fic have been excellent at providing a playlist for the characters, for the story, and for the highly interactive blog that can also be found here. If you’re looking for explanations as to why some songs are on the lists, check out the Tumblr asks and read the fic - there are many layers to this one but you can discover a lot in both Seasons. 

TFN by The Foxhole (2019) - Short and sweet (just like our favourite characters) this is a great list and sits perfectly alongside Season 1. 

TFN Minyard by The Foxhole (2019) - Africa is really the only song you need to listen to on this playlist but this is the list designed to represent Andrew in Red Rabbits. Sit back, listen, appreciate how very very well done this list is: emo bangers sit against indie bops, Lykke Li and MISSIO clash against Explosions in the Sky and Pink Floyd.  

TFN Seth by The Foxhole (2019) - Oh Seth, our sweet baby DJ, whose journey is honestly one of the best in fanfic. Here you’ll find Childish Gambino, Jay Z and Kanye, City Girls and The Weeknd. 

TFN Dan by The Foxhole (2019) - What a queen, it’s Dan Wilds with a mix of Beyonce, Frank Ocean and many more r&b, hiphop and pop tunes. Upbeat and powerful.

Neil Josten’s Music + Mathematics / The Calculus of Nocturnes by fuzzballsheltiepants [Rated M; 7863 words; Complete 2020] (recced here)

Like everything by fuzzballsheltiepants, this playlist is as well thought out and perfectly rendered as the story itself. The fic centers around Neil Josten, a high school math teacher with a secret obsession: the classical piano he hears music teacher Andrew Minyard playing every afternoon. Eventually his secret is found out, and his world begins to open up. This playlist can be listened to along with the fic, giving you an immersive layer to the story. 

Slinging Mozart Sideways / Slinging Mozart Sideways  by justadreamfox [Rated T; 9962 words, Complete 2020]  (recced here)

Some fun facts about this one - firstly, the working title was “gay pianists need to eat” (which I love) and secondly it was part of the 2020 Gift Exchange for Willow_Bird. Excellent fic. Excellent prompt. In which Andrew is in the music business, Neil is a classical cellist (with a British accent) and they bond over Nils Fram. It’s super pretty and the classical music choices are sweet, subtle and sometimes heartwrenching. 

One writer in particular, scribbleb_red, has been prolific in creating playlists for all their longer fics, and some of their Twitter hc fics.  There’s overlap in themes and genres across most of them but here are some of my faves:

Playlist: L'amour parle en fleurs / l’amour parle en fleur by scribbleb_red [Rated M, 61919 words, Complete 2019] (recced here)

Also known as The Lavender AU, this fic is set in the lavender fields of Provence in Southern France and deals with loss and recovery, grief and hope - and that’s exactly what the playlist lays out as well. Intended to accompany the reader through the fic, this playlist is a journey just like the story itself. 

Playlist: (don’t fear) the reaper / (don’t fear) the reaper by scribbleb_red [Rated M, 73111 words, Complete 2019] (recced here) 

for the fic of the same name, in which Andrew and Neil don’t meet in life but in limbo. Andrew is a grim reaper and Neil is the soul he’s meant to be helping cross to the other side. There’s just one issue: Neil isn’t really dead.  

Playlist: monster (under my bed) / monster (under my bed) by scribbleb_red [Rated: M; 1262 Words; Complete; 2020] (recced here)

In which Neil is the monster hiding Andrew’s bed and this changes everything.

not your homeland anymore (2020) for the fic of the same name, inspired by Taylor Swift’s folklore, this angsty fic is still being written and asks the question: what if Andrew hadn’t been there after Baltimore? 

NB: We have not recced this one yet. Please refer to the fic for TWs.

Playlists Based on Characters 

Oh yes, there are some highly creative folks out there exploring their headcanons via the spotify playlist. Here are five of our favourites: 

THE FOXES DEADLIEST INVESTMENT by realpeachy (2019) - Their ain’t no rest for the wicked and this playlist is as relentless, beat-heavy and secretly instigative as Andrew Minyard himself. Some familiar themes with Billie Eilish, Ruelle, Halsey and the like, but some quirky additions like badflower and tedy as well. 

NEIL JOSTEN by Arizona Kestler (2019) - A curious collection of songs on this one, ranging from Kendrick Lamar to Radiohead, AJR to Jack’s Mannequin. It definitely leans into the new-wave emo that many associate with AFTG but it always comes back to the high octane energy we associate with our favourite starting striker. 

yes or no? by jmoriartty (2018) - Could there be a more iconic playlist for andreil? well ok, maybe that’s just this contributor’s taste but having been steadily built through 2018 to 2019, it’s one of the most followed playlists on spotify for AFTG. Two Feet, MISSIO, Twenty One Pilots and grandson are all big hits on this bluesy, gritty, alternative playlist. 

you can call me king by scribbleb_red (2019) - As if any list was complete without a villainous inclusion, like with most of scribble’s lists this one deliberately lays out a journey for Riko Moriyama, his rise and fall. Maybe you’ll also feel Sympathy for the Devil. 

Double Trouble by an.fouda (2019) - Yes, it’s a twinyards playlist and it’s full of absolutely exquisite artist choices and emo hits. Try listening to Night Knuckles by Cavetown or Plastic Joy by Raw Fabrics. It’s a whole new level to this most complex of sibling relationships. 

Playlists Based on the Books 

Some of these are classics - they’ve set the tone for AFTG playlists all over the internets - and it’s fascinating to see how even now people come back to similar tones: alternative rock, grunge, hiphop, the high energy songs that mix a sense of hope and fear and danger. Plug in your headphones and prepare for a ride. Others are more recent and you can very much see how the themes of the music line up over time. If you want a playlist to remind you of the original series, here are some great places to start:

The Foxhole Court (Nora Sakavic) by pjofangirl2  (2017) 

You Are A Pipedream by lokisarmyismydivision (2017)

This is the moment you stop being the rabbit by Warren Vipod (2020) 

[snickiebear]

(no i haven't seen that post on my dash and patiently waited for u to rb it) anyway for the 35 questions thingy (i kinda want to ask u all the questions but i won't be that annoying lol) 4, 6, 9, 16, 22, 31, 32, 33, 34

OMG HI HI YOURE SO SWEET THANK YOU FOR ASKING and so sorry this is obnoxiously long and super rambly 

4) @mouseymightymarvellous (i could write analysis papers on her work, like every single one of them. dont tempt me, i will), @itsthechocopuff (if you haven’t read any of their fics YOU MUST), @capriciouswrites (IF YOU HAVENT READ THEM WHAT ARE YOU DOING I'm literally OBESSED) and IncompleteSentanc on Ao3 (their writing style and their characterizations are AMAZING I LOVEEE)

6)  tbh i find writing easy... until it isn’t LMAO. i try to write things i wanna read and like to write. the thing i find the hardest would be like the actual main idea/plot. for WT&R there wasn’t any real plot, it was literally just me writing what i wanted, same with Gym Rats. for my shikasaku one, its taking so much longer because of the plot and i was like “dude whats the POINT of this” you know? i just realized that this does NOT answer the question LMAO,,, point is: writing is kind of like a facet for me, you turn it on and it flows until it doesn’t.

9) Gai. like his pattern of speech fucks me UP. i’ve seen him written so many ways to where I’m just flailing LMAO. kakashi too cause the man is so complex that idk what side i wanna write from or how i should do his dialogue,,, i try my best and so far everyones been okay with it so we’ll see 

16) one bed troupe (a CLASSIC), god im a WHORE for ‘stupid man falls for woman who could kill him with her pinkie’, and a total slut for ‘badass man with a strength kink’ 

22) my favorite songs change so often that what i listen to changes too. sometimes, ill find a song that matches the vibe of a scene and listen to it on repeat other wise i either listen to Lofi Hip Hop, or my master playlist on spotify right now my favorites are “Butterfly Rain” by Tori Templet, “Yoko Ono” (stripped, but i love the og one too) by Mob Rich and Matt Maeson, “Speaking Off The Record” by Hotel Mira (and then literally any Judah and the Lion/AJR songs)

31) so i have two groups of Ocs: 

A: Characters from my book that i actually want to publish and have been slowly working on the first draft for the past year or so (two female main characters and a flying cat). 

B: Ocs that i rp with DONT LAUGH LISTEN HAHAHA: two of my friends and i have some really serious, planned out rps, that are basically us writing a book together (find them here I KNOW ITS ON QUOTEV please heckle me LMAOO,, feel free to ask me more questions on any of those!) i’ll definitely have to do another post on these cause theres honestly so much i could say 

32) sakura’s insane and eats a god, this is the after

33) alot of the one liners or some of my favorite scenes pop into my head when i’m half alseep or washing the dishes. its like a line of dialogue or a way or wording that i really love. so i have to wake myself up (and i have like some type of insomnia) to type this shit out in my notes or run to dry my hands while chanting the thing in my head before jotting it down. those lines are some of my favorite tbh

34) This isn’t an excerpt from a fic but from my notes when I was world building a mythology for ShikaSaku:

She is a thing of contradictions. The Goddess of Peace and War with the ability to bring forth war and yet tame violence. She is bloodied and dressed in white, a thing of opposites. 

[ghostlypawn]

any favorite abh lines/lyrics?

well since u asked so nicely and im procrastinating...

lyrics (the lines are in the rb i accidentally posted it before adding them on): (also before we start i did do an edit of fave lines from each song here)

“something whispers of something gone”

“something on the shelves hold something of ourselves”

“what happens if i cant get out of wonderland?”

“cant stories go where stories will?”

“so why can’t we linger and dream?”

“time is chasing me still”

“draws you to his bluish room” (this wordplay is 10/10)

“oh the wind is wonderful... when it greets the rain”

“the sigh of the wind and the dim blue stars” (idk why just the imagery of that)

“i wont let them move you on; play you like some ghostly pawn”

“we will rise beyond whats gone, slow the night and hold the dawn”

“leave a world they got so wrong, there’s a sky where we belong”

“let the sorrow dance”

“dance and give yourself to nothing else but those long eyes”

“waltz and waltz all night, ignore the tide”

“will god save the queen?” (manage ur flamingo is just kinda There when it comes to lyrics but i like the existential nature of the question about will it only be the common folk to survive this war if u get me?)

“wander through the world as if it were your dream”

“time to get back above the ground, not that they know you’re not around”

“im sick to death” (love how the meaning changes from being rly annoyed about her outlook to him just having to outright tell her that hes sick and dying)

steptomyces griseus into tuberculosis (i love this line bc it rly homes in how nonsense medical terms can sound [espc to alice] that if u dont know this is the bacteria that causes tuberculosis then it could defo just be made up for the song like brillig braelig uffiness)

“then one day the sorrow came and you moved into that”

“and then callai the jabber came and made his room your mind and jabber-ached and jabber-played, all jabber all the time” (OKAY but the fact the jabberwocky turns around n tells alice that shes the monster in this situation bc shes been turning alfreds pain into a game for her selfish reasons and she keeps jabbering on about wonderland instead of just listening to alfred and his suffering,, underrated verse)

“he’s not some diagnosis”

*insert the entirety of some things fall away*

“and no there is no reason; some things fall away”

“the heavens are forever; we only stay a night, we fill out rooms with children and then put out the light”

“sorrow calls with the evening with the wind beneath your door”

“shadows pause at the window meet their gaze, their grief is yours” (im not too sure but i like to see this as there are grieving people all around us and you’ll see that everyone is grieving something but we move on and one day will only pause to reflect on that situation that caused it before moving away from it once again?)

“bereavement is the key to survival”

“love is brief and time’s a thief, climb into your shell of grief”

“will i still sleep in some part of you mind; in some way, i may never know”

“in my dreams you’ll be calling, calling with longing, nothing there haunting out love”

“when there’s so much we thought we would be”

“left behind in another room in your head”

“no one wins at cards or plays like the ought to”

“the world no longer fits and still you’re stuck in it”

“the story never told: how wonderland gets old”

“first your high and now you’re highness” (jfkjkfdjkfd)

“you’re no one without alice”

“my highness is your low”

“growing up is not a crime”

“im gonna speak what you wont speak; how you fear the strong and mock the weak”

*insert the entirety of afternoon bc every line hits me where it hurts*

“a little talk could hold me for a little while”

“the book of night is closing for the child”

“you mustered all the wonder from a room of hurt”

“the heart will not remember what it will not name”

“the caterpillar gazes on a world of older faces but the butterflies go floating all the same”

“and who knew what to do with all i felt for you in the song of the afternoon”

“nothing comes or goes without a shadow”

“let the sorrow goes, it’s half the battle”

“there are rooms you leave behind; other wounds of other times”

“down the hole you go are there you are” (i cry at the idea of this book being this unending connection between them and she can visit him anytime she wants by going down the hole im actually crying this line KILLS me for no reason)

[unfair-sports]

2019 OSG Report Week 1

The 2019 NFL season kicks off Sunday, and fantasy football season does as well. It’s very important to know the types of contests or season long formats you’re competing in to have true success. DFS wise, multipliers, and head to head contests calls for safe yet good plays that may be a little chalky across the industry. Big tournaments where finishing in the top 10 is the goal, calls for deep plays at times, and game stacking where you go with guts mixed with some form of research. Cash games or multipliers and head to heads, go for players with good floors with ceiling mixed in. In tournaments, chase the ceiling plays.

Chiefs -3.5 at Jags (52.5)

As always, the Chiefs are in a high total game. The Jags were one of the league’s best secondaries last season and if we go off that and last year’s KC performance this would not be a spot to pay up for the likes of Tyreek Hill. Though his performance vs Jax was subpar last year as well, I’m more inclined to roster Kelce over Hill to be different at TE. Until McCoy was signed, I was all in on Damien Williams week 1 to pair with Mahomes and not heavily target the receivers and hope all TDS thru air and ground comes thru Mahomes and Williams. Will it be a 60/40 split or more in the backfield? Andy Reid did not bring McCoy in just to sit. But I may still take some shots on Williams. His price is still down across the industry. The best value play will be Mecole Hardman in the slot. He’s dirt cheap on all sites and could have the better matchup with Hill and Watkins locked up on the outside by two of the best returning CBs in the NFL

-If we believe the total and the close game theory, you definitely want to run back the stack with some Jags players. I have been leery on rostering or drafting the oft injured Fournette. Maybe with a better passing game it takes some work load off? Nick Foles was the WRs QB in Philly as oppose to Wentz the TE/Ertz whisperer. If true, this will go well for the explosive Dede Westbrook who hasn’t shown his potential yet in a stagnant offense. Westbrook will be a popular choice across all sites. He’s cheap and he’s the #1 WR on a team involved with a 52.5 total. If the Jags defense shows up and slows down KC in any way, they will be a great defensive leverage play in tournaments where a lot of ownership could fall on Kansas City.

Rams -3 at Panthers (50.5)

What to do with the Rams. Do they have Super Bowl loss hangover? Is Gurley healthy? Will his load be lighter to start the season, and save he for the long haul? Last year I believe he was just running so hard the first 14 weeks of the season that he was just banged up to finish. Will he and Malcom Brown split time? If he has a great game, then this will be his cheapest price of the season. If you are looking for a game to stack, then here is one. Cam/Goff, McCaffrey/Gurley and/or WR of choice you like out of Woods, Cooks, and Kupp. Big strong physical receivers like Woods has had success against the smaller CB core of Carolina. DJ Moore is getting a lot of hype, but I never favor WRs of Cam Newton. He’s not predictable. He uses his legs to escape, which turns it into a “throw it to whoever looks open” scenario. So, between his rushing upside, and C-Mac I think those two players get you all of the Carolina TDs.

49ers+1 at Buccaneers (50).

If you’re looking for another stacking option game, then here we go. I do favor the Bucs side of the ball for many many reasons. I’m still not sold on the 49er offense outside of George Kittle who this week could be a top play at TE. Tampa Bay has always including last season been a prime defense to target with TEs. Aside from Kittle, I’m having a hard time clicking on players from teams no matter the over/under who I think are not good teams or players. Matt Breida and Tevin Coleman are splitting the backfield, Jimmy G remains a question mark. Against this Tampa defense however is a good spot to target. I’m just maybe going to miss out. I do think Winston will stockpile targets to Mike Evans for PPR leagues/sites, but TD equity will be a tossup between Peyton Barber, Chris Godwin (who should take a big leap this season, and OJ Howard. Winston as most young QBs loves his TE.

Falcons +3.5 at Vikings (47.5)

I was a little surprised to see the Vikings favored by over a field goal. Yes, Atlanta is on the road but still a dome setting. Xavier Rhodes wasn’t his usual self last season or the preseason, which bodes well for the Atlanta WR core. Particularly Julio Jones whom as of Friday “should play” despite contract negotiations. Matt Ryan is a classic spread it out in the red zone type of QB. While Freeman is Coleman-less in the backfield, I fear the Ito Smith vulture line of 5 rushes 11 yards, 2Td game. Ridley is not a target monster but is a TD machine vs the 0 red zone looks Julio for reasons unknown gets. Sanu is the alter ego of Julio because of his size and strength. My favorite pass catcher will be Hooper at TE who caught on late in the season as is a perfect funnel if the outside corners for Minnesota are doing well.

-Kirk cousins is still at the helm but it’s hard to ignore the concentrated targets of Adam Thielen and Stefon Diggs. Thielen is the safe play while Diggs is the tournament, dart, high upside play. My favorite play is Dalvin Cook. He’s at home✅. Favored✅. Used in the red zone✅. Could touch the ball 20 times✅. For several seasons we have picked on Atlanta with RBs, especially ones who catch passes. Kyle Rudolph seems to score a TD every other game and could be a pivot off Hunter Henry for a cheap TE.

Lions -2.5 at Cardinals (47.5)

Here is a game where I am having trouble with. At first, I skipped over it but think it could deserve some mention. Matt Stafford is underpriced and could go overlooked. The Arizona secondary has only been good in names on jerseys. Mix in a rookie QB who is making his coach feel like “teeth pulling” and the Lions route could be on. Stafford to Golloday or Marvin Jones Jr. could go under owned in tournaments and win a heavy tournament. Kerryon Johnson is also great in stacks with Stafford. If you don’t believe in Murray out the gate, the Lions defense could be sneaky here.

-The Christian Kirk/Kyler Murray train will begin steam and besides a flyer in a Million-dollar tournament stack I’m not sure if I’m heavy on Murray out the gate. He does offer rushing ability but on Fanduel he’s priced $700 more than Stafford. No way! I do think David Johnson returns somewhat to an easy 20 point/game fantasy producer this season. Just remember the Lions slow games down and their stacks are often frustrating to watch play out. I am stacking 2-3 lineups in large field tournaments just in case though.

Redskins +8.5 at Eagles (46)

This game has fade all over it. Large spread. Divisional game (I hate division games). So, with that said Jordan Howard is favored✅. At home✅. And is playable with the defense. Not optimal but if he carries 15-20 times and hits the end zone vs a shaky Washington team, he hits value. Wentz does tend to throw 2-3 TDS a game. He loves Ertz and he is a great pivot off of Kelce in the high priced TE range. He also has favored Alshon Jeffrey and D-Jack is always good for the long ball. But again, never a fan of stock piling divisional games.

Titans +5.5 at Browns (45.5).

Is Tennessee good? No. Do they suck? Yes. Can they go into Cleveland and shock us all and win? Not sure, but I’m willing to say they will cover the 5.5 underdog tag they have. They slow down and muddy up games. They make them real ugly. If Beckham is slowed down by his hip in any way, isn’t the team a lot the same on offense? Again, we are just talking about this week. I don’t favor any Tennessee offensive player but if you think they show up, Derrick Henry or Corey Davis is your guy. Two seasons ago, I would say play Delanie Walker because I have for several seasons successfully played talented TEs vs Cleveland. But are he and Mariota talented together? Maybe not.

-With that said I do like to avoid offenses vs Tennessee and this opening week will probably be no different. The only safe play in my opinion whom also offers upside is Nick Chubb at RB and maybe paired with the Cleveland defense who should be good. I do think we see Baker throw a lot of balls with Todd Monken at offensive coordinator. This is of special interest because Monken was the OC in Tampa and the combined numbers of Winston and FitzMagic, if were one player would have been the #2 scoring fantasy QB in the NFL. I hate being a week late, but I wonder if THIS is the matchup because in fantasy and DFS this game is all we care about for now. Plus, I’m interested to see how Baker distributes the ball. Which pass catcher is most viable? Is OBJ worth the price tag if limited in anyway. Can you trust Higgins or Callaway? I will focus most exposure personally on Nick Chubb and the defense here. He fits the bill. At home✅. Favored✅. Could touch the ball 20 times✅. Usually used in the red zone✅.

Chargers -6.5 at Colts (45)

I do feel I am a fish for it, but I do like the Chargers defense. Maybe Brissett is better than we anticipate, but we know what we are getting here. Austin Eckler’s buzz is growing and rightfully so. He should garner the majority of the rushes and should be involved in the passing game for a team who despite being on the road is favored and playing in a dome. The next fish play is site dependent, but Hunter Henry with no Antonio Gates is in play as is the Rivers/Allen or Rivers/Williams stack.

-I’m not in favor of tournament fliers on Brissett, Marlon Mack, and Eric Ebron. Those would be the only players I would consider but it’s a full fade for me.

Bills + 3 at Jets (40.5)

Why is a 40.5 over/under relevant? The prices. Is Josh Allen one of the best NFL qbs? No! Does he provide fantasy football value because of his legs? Yes.

-Is Sam Darnold the best QB? No. But at home, favored, and pricing, he and Bell could provide the TD equity in this game easy and this game will either fall under 40.5 or go way over and hit 50. I could easily see long TDs from Darnold to Anderson and could allow you to fit any RBs, WRs or defenses you want in lineup construction.

Bengals +10 at Seahawks (44). Chris Carson plus Seattle defense is the play here. Don’t fall for the Tyler Boyd with no AJ Green trap. Mixon could score but this is not an optimal spot.

Ravens -5 at Dolphins (37.5). As much as we may like Baltimore defense, how about the Dolphins defense for dirt cheap and just play all of the offense you want? Are they under dogs? Yes! But they are at home. And Lamar Jason could easily throw a pick six. That mixed with not allowing Baltimore to score 28-31 is good enough at their price. However, Jackson, Mark Ingram, and the Baltimore (an expensive defense) is still in play despite such a low total game. I think the Bills/Jets are more likely to go over their game total than this one. Young QBs like their TEs so Andrews is firmly in play as well.

QB

Jameis Winston

Matt Stafford

Lamar Jackson

Phillip Rivers

Pat Mahomes

Sam Darnold

Josh Allen

Carson Wentz

RB

Christian McCaffrey

Todd Gurley/Malcom Brown

Pollard if Zeek is limited in anyway (Giants/Cowboys not mentioned in article)

Saquan Barkley and his floor (Giants/Cowboys not mentioned in article. Barkley has a safe floor and potential ceiling, BUT it is a division game vs a good Cowboys defense)

Dalvin Cook

Mark Ingram

Peyton Barber

Jordan Howard

Nick Chubb

Chris Carson

Austin Eckler

Damien Williams/Lesean McCoy

WR

Rams (3). Robert Woods. Cooper Kupp. Brandin Cooks

Mike Evans/Chris Godwin

Adam Thielen

Calvin Ridley

Alshon Jeffrey

Kenny Golloday/Marvin Jones

Keenan Allen/Mike Williams

TE

Travis Kelce

Zach Ertz

George Kittle

Austin Hooper

OJ Howard

Kyle Rudolph

Hunter Henry

Mark Andrews

Defense

Chargers

Eagles

Browns

Detroit

Baltimore

Seattle