#it showcase them all in different ways like you might think they were weak on one challenge but the next challenge they rank no.1

[xinyuehui]

CRUSH OVER 2023 《我可以47》

No idea how many of you watch variety shows but I have to tell y'all my new obsession with Crush Over 2023 💪

↳ It's on Youtube and Tencent WETV with subs (the subs are little out of sync on yt, it's better on wetv)

Idol Producer, Youth with You, Chuang might not survived the purge but get ready for Produce 101 muscle edition with Donnie Yen as a host 🕺

(Gif of Donnie Yen dancing on the show)

47 contestants come together to compete in multiple challenges that will test their limits.

(Can't fit them all in but here's some screenshots of some of them)

The premise is a little apocalyptic cyberpunk-esque. Contestants will embark on "a journey for the true strength" upon boarding the Ark of Infinity. The voyage will last 21 days. The final ten people standing will get to fight the Infinity Ark Captain Donnie Yen Ip Man style.

And that is not true, I made that up , they are not gonna have a fight but it would be hilarious if it did happen 😂

One of the most enticing parts about this is that the contestants are all champions in their field. They are not influencers or traditional type of “celebrities” (apart from Santa (Into1)). They come from various backgrounds such as acrobatics, professional rock climber, firefighter, spartan, DEKA, CrossFit, MMA, UFC etc...

The women in this show are absolute beasts as well, I'm in love!!! This jiejie, Zhang Yuhan, Olympic competitive swimmer. Ranked 7th in the initial exercise, making her the only women team leader in round one.

Shen Yajie, professional bodybuilder. Did 100x20kg bench presses in one go, highest record amongst all players on the show.

First team challenge: Chinese chess (Xiangqi)

Director: What if, I get a bunch of meatheads to play a strategic based game 🤔

And he did exactly that 😂 However! This is no ordinary game of Chinese chess. They are given an "endgame" beforehand to practice at first, they do not know which side they are on yet. The actual game will be played out on a giant board.

The chess pieces' weight range from 150kg-200kg. All members are allowed to push the pieces.

Each team gets 15 minutes to play. Similar to timed chess, after each turn, the player will be able to stop the timer. The timer here is located on top of a climbing wall, one of the team members will only be allowed to climb it after a move have been made.

There's one catch! Each member also corresponds to a piece on the board (the opponents do not know which piece is who), if the piece is removed from the board during the game, the corresponding player will also be removed from the game. As the game goes on, losing players will slow the process of moving the heavy chess pieces.

It's a race against tactics, physical strength and time. Who will checkmate first? Who will run out of time first?

The show is incredibly hyped, keeps you engaged and invested in the players too. There's currently 2 episodes out (and each episode is split into 2). Do not worry that it might be tense the entire time! There's a good amount of humour laced into it!! And 6-packs obv 💪🦵

The later exercises supposedly will mimic natural disasters such as flooding, earthquakes and sandstorms. Can't wait to see how it turns out!!

[taegularities]

a brief drabble of jk seeing oc in the exhibition or what he thinks when she did not stay the night :( from his pov please

fic: colour me in

pairing: jungkook x reader warnings: overthinking, heartbreak, hope, simping lol, lovesickness, a bit of nervousness, implied tears, soft sweet koo, a cmi9 spoiler :') wc: 1.5k LOL a/n: tysm for the request, i know one or two people wanted that one, so that was a great opportunity to explore koo's mind :') this is unedited, i apologise!! might come back to edit it later. anyways, love you, i hope you like it, lmk what you think mwah!! <3

ask my characters/request a (brief) drabble <3

–

The second day of the showcase and it's already ending again.

And once again, you're nowhere to be seen. It sucks.

He wishes he could calm that raging storm in his stomach; that stressful feeling, mixed with hope you might show up eventually.

But as he glances around, all he sees is a crowd of visitors and fellow artists. They look so happy; the smiles might etch themselves onto their faces forever once this is all over.

From afar, Jungkook waves towards them, faking a brave face. It's annoying how his eyes keep wandering to the entrance of the room, manifesting a glimpse of you.

New guests make his heart skip a beat, and it keeps sinking when it's not you.

That is, until it is.

Some of the people chatting with him finish their inquiries. He sends them off with a nod, following their steps for a moment. Only for his gaze to drift through the room again. And then–

The odd emptiness morphs into gut-wrenching breathlessness. He sucks in a breath when you stand among the dozen faces, looking around.

And you're not a haunting illusion this time. The way you shift your weight to the other leg, heaving your chest in the same nervousness, eyebrows slightly furrowed as you seek him out – no matter how much he's memorised you, he can't make up these tiny details.

You're here.

And now you're looking at him. Directly. Blinking.

As you approach him, time starts moving slower. Thoughts of whatever you shared. Hope for tonight to proceed well. Fear of what you might think of his artistic accomplishments.

He doesn't dare to blink. Doesn't even flinch when you say, "Hi."

He responds, "You came."

"I… almost didn't."

"…I'm glad you did."

Your words are piercing, and his heart in tiny pieces. They pound to a certain, rapid beat, like water drops on drums.

But he doesn't show any of the weakness he feels when you keep talking. Or when you detect his paintings. The speechlessness and the tender gratitude, the pain in your eyes when you understand what he's created.

The moments pass and the uncertainty between the two of you grows, but Jungkook doesn't want this night to end. And when you eventually suggest to take him home, he feels a strange combination of anxiety and relief.

Unfathomable.

–

Small spaces usually didn't bother either of you, because they were the temptation that closed the gap between your bodies.

Like, when he was trapped under the sheets with you, magnetically drawn to you. Arms around you like a safe swim ring, and your breathing against his chest.

Tonight is a little different.

The urge to make you stop the car and to reach to the driver's seat is overwhelming. So he focuses his attention on the outside. Listens as you converse with him.

He appreciates the care, but he'd rather skip to the inevitable talk than to speak about his lack of a transportation vehicle.

The wait toys with him. The tension is palpable. It won't fade; only increases when you finally dive into your emotions. Asking about the showcase and the pain.

Grows and grows when you halt near his place, getting out of the car when you shouldn't need to.

Because aren't you leaving in a moment?

No.

Instead, you pull out a silver object, wrapped neatly. He knows what it might be, and somehow, it already hurts. The intention behind it… that's what aches.

Though the uneasy yearning doesn't end when he opens it, setting eyes on an apparent notebook and his name written in the middle of it, golden and elegant.

Inside, he finds a message

To fill these pages with every curve and contour you desire, and to colour them in. Like you do with me. Happy Birthday, Kookie.

The goddamn hurt won't stop. His breath hitches. He rereads the words, mouths them, relaxing his muscles and slowing down his heartbeat.

It's not working. And his eyes are watering. God, he doesn't think he's ever seen a soul filled with such tenderness before. A heart of cloudy texture; breaking apart every now and then, but soft and light and dreamy and so incredibly vulnerable.

You're looking at him like you're holding yourself together. And he figures he must be mirroring that very expression.

"So… You like it?" you ask.

Does he like it? The fact that you combined his dreams and the affection you hold into one small object? Your feelings for each other aren't materialistic, but if they were, he'd stuff them all into these pages.

He answers, "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

“I’m glad. Happy Birthday, Kook.”

Can he let you go again? He doesn't know. Or he does. But he fears your answer. But he still needs to try, right?

And he does. With all his courage, he does.

When he finds himself close to your body a minute later. Face in his grip, apologies on his tongue, hurt in your pupils – lit by the streetlights.

"I crave your comfort," you tell him. Your words are overwhelming. "I hate that I've grown to crave you."

If you knew. If you knew about the sleepless nights and the damp cheeks. The curled up body, tucked in blankets and the summer's heat, but still cold without you next to him.

If you knew. He should tell you.

"What do I do to make it right?" he asks.

But what you answer breaks his heart anew.

"You open up. You tell me how you feel. What you feel." Your chin is quivering; he wants to hold it, wants to calm your sorrows. "You stop keeping secrets from me and tell me what's wrong."

"I have never opened up with anyone as much as with you."

And he means it. All you know are pieces of him; the most hidden one only ever got out to witnesses or when things became unbearable. Like with Nara. Or Tae.

His fingers rest on your cheek, and you wonder, "Why have you never before? To anyone else?"

He's scared. God, he's scared you'd leave him. This is ridiculous. His worries and his faults and all the mistakes he's made. So damn ridiculous.

Shouldn't be keeping you away from him.

"Can you tell me?" you question again. He wishes you didn't – because he wants you to know, but it's not fucking coming out…

And he can't keep hurting you.

"I can't," he admits.

"Why not?"

"Because it hurts."

It always will, won't it?

And maybe he could endure it if it didn't drag you down in the process. Because he sees as your face falls, frustration spreading across it as you start giving up.

He sees that you're waving the white flag, even when he begs for you to stay, to endure this until he can open up. He sees your desperation when you don't answer and he finally walks away and he hates it.

Head fallen and intense dejection expanding in his chest, slow steps carry him across the street. Tonight will be filled with more hours without solace.

But then he hears your voice again.

"That night at the frat party… last year," you start. He halts in his steps, moving to face you. "We were dumb to treat it like nothing. You kissed me back then, too. You kissed me like you didn't want me to leave."

He blinks at you. The frat party.

Maybe he didn't just kiss you like he didn't want you to leave. Maybe it'd feel the same if he kissed you now, too.

And he fucking wants to. He wants the distance gone. Craves that same warmth, enveloped in you, breath against breath, lips against lips.

He doesn't know what to answer. The hundred thoughts confuse him. But among those, one of them is the most prominent, in bold and capitalised letters, surfacing in high speed.

And perhaps he should hold onto it; so he wraps a mental rope around it, pulling it close and whispers, "Angel…"

Steps back to you, closer until you're barely breathing, "Stay the night."

–

It's okay, he thinks.

That he expected so much. That he thought you'd agree. That he painted a picture of you stepping in here again, sitting on the same couch, crying the same tears as him until you fell into his arms.

But none of it will happen tonight, will it? You won't come back. He saw you driving away…

It's okay.

You're right. You probably need time to think; his attack on you was sudden. The change in mind and the pleas to stay. Only half of him thought you would, really – so it's alright.

But that doesn't mean that his chest won't heave once he closes the door and enters the empty apartment. Or that he won't shower with a certain numbness in his heart, trudging to the bed with a bitter ache in his body.

It doesn't mean that, despite the sliver of hope, he won't yearn and pine and crave and long until his eyes are rimmed red, worse than before.

–

okay :') if you happen to read this, come and let me know what you think, i'd appreciate it super much!! bc lol holy that took like 2h? and i am sad. thank you for the request, love. hope it was alright 🥺<3

[foxgnomesworld]

This thread and especially the linked dissertation annoyed me so much that I decided to actually post on Tumblr for the first time.

I wanted to give this a fair shot and read the thread. While it acknowledges certain critiques of astrology, it concludes that astrology skeptics are ignorant of developments in the field and need to do more research. So, I went to the linked dissertation to learn more. Link

The problem is that the dissertation is bad. Now, it's clearly an undergraduate essay that has likely never been edited by anyone other than the author. Perhaps it is not fair to expect more. However, since it was linked as a resource, I feel critique is warranted.

First off, if you're hoping the essay addresses any of what was mentioned in the thread, you're out of luck. Notably, there is no mention of how astrologers are addressing the many concerns of skeptics.

The essay itself is poorly argued. There are many claims made with little evidence, e.g. that the practice of astrology has changed profoundly since the 70s. Obviously it's online now (just like everything else), but that doesn't prove there have been fundamental shifts in the field.

The author's claims are not explained and lack underlying logic, as in this section of the essay:

How exactly does astrology validate a person and their experiences? What if the chart contradicts a person's own perceptions? If the goal is to understand the self, why use astrology at all?

An underlying tension in the essay is the unwillingness to engage with the question of whether astrology is "real." Do the planets actually have an impact on behavior? This is critical to address. After all, why should astrology be embraced if it is based on falsehoods and might make people more willing to believe in other pseudo-scientific ideas? Self-understanding and validation are valuable. However, there are ways of attaining them that do not rely on pseudoscience.

Instead, the author fails to understand criticism, or to engage with it in good faith, as you can see here:

1) Evaluating whether people "believe" in a field is entirely separate from the question of whether or not it is empirically valid.

2) Whether a skeptic believes in astrology or not is irrelevant. The question is how the practitioners conceptualize their own field. Surely, the people who position themselves as astrological experts should be able to communicate their thoughts on how the field functions, and why their practice can reveal truth!

This leads to the most troubling part of the essay. One of the claims in the thread is that astrologers have been addressing critiques about the dangers of astrology. Fake promises of good health were given as a specific example.

Yet in the essay, the author takes a very different stance. A critic who is concerned about the growing popularity of various pseudosciences and how this might affect scientific literacy is treated with scorn and mockery.

Read that highlighted section. Do the quotes provided say anything about "doom" and "irremediable societal downfall"? No, not at all. The author's defensiveness toward criticism of astrology is on full display. There is no genuine engagement with the topic: the danger of a population that doesn't value science or critical thinking.

Instead, the critic is mischaracterized, and the author gives incredibly weak defenses. She states that astrology never negatively affected society in the past (a claim she doesn't even try to defend). Worse, she writes that people make irrational decisions anyway, so what does it matter if they believe pseudoscience?

Finally, there is this: "Never mind […] that correlation does not equal causation."

This quote is damning. It is nonsense. It showcases the scientific illiteracy of the author. In the critique given, there are simply no mentions of correlations, or claims of causation. This cute line is meant to convince you that the author understands science, but it actually betrays her lack of statistical reasoning.

Such a phrase has an actual meaning and utility. It can be employed when a researcher tries to assert a causal connection between two pieces of data that mathematically correlate, yet lacks evidence to prove one trend drives another. In this context, though, it means nothing, because the reader has been shown no statistical claims.

Frankly, I am disappointed. I did not expect the essay would change my mind about astrology as a whole. However, I had hoped from the thread that it would shed some light on why people find it compelling, and how astrologers are addressing potential problems and criticisms. Neither is true. The essay gives the obvious answer about astrology's popularity: life sucks now, so people (often marginalized) turn to things that promise them truth.

However, that alone does not mean that the rise of astrology is positive or even neutral. Rather, to someone like me, this shows that it is indeed a field that targets the most vulnerable. It convinces them to dedicate their time and energy to a practice that relies on magical thinking and might lead them to believe further pseudoscience.

Finally, if you need proof that astrology is still used to judge and insult others, look no further than the quote tweets on the post:

The original critic of astrology is unfairly labeled as someone who just hates her astrological sign, and insinuated to be a "sensitive crybaby." All of her thoughtful commentary is dismissed by these strangers in favor of making assumptions about her character and motivations based solely on her sun sign.

The most damning evidence against astrology as a liberatory practice is to simply look at the attitudes and behaviors of people who believe in it.

[cambridgeenglishacademy]

IELTS Preparation: Understanding Your Weak Areas

Preparing for the IELTS can feel like navigating a maze, especially when you’re not sure where your weaknesses lie. Many test-takers find themselves overwhelmed by various sections of the exam, from writing to listening. The key to success is understanding these weak areas and turning them into strengths. Whether you’re struggling with vocabulary in the reading section or feeling anxious about speaking, pinpointing these challenges can make all the difference. Let’s dive deep into each component of the IELTS and uncover strategies that will boost your confidence and performance on test day. Get ready to transform your preparation journey!

Read More Infor — Best IELTS Coaching In Delhi

IELTS Writing: Too many words!

When it comes to IELTS writing, clarity is your best friend. Many candidates fall into the trap of using too many words to express their ideas. This can muddle your message and make it hard for the examiner to follow.

Conciseness should be a priority. Aim to convey your thoughts in a clear and direct manner. Instead of fluffing up your sentences with unnecessary adjectives or adverbs, focus on strong verbs and precise nouns.

Practice is essential here. Take sample prompts and challenge yourself to write within word limits without sacrificing quality. Review what you’ve written critically; ask if each word serves a purpose.

Remember, effective communication is about quality, not quantity. The goal isn’t just passing but showcasing your ability to articulate complex ideas succinctly.

IELTS Reading: Retaking the test

Retaking the IELTS Reading test can feel daunting, but it’s a chance for improvement. Many candidates don’t achieve their desired score on the first attempt. That’s okay; it happens to more people than you think.

Analyzing your previous performance is vital. Did you struggle with time management? Were certain question types particularly tricky? Understanding these aspects will guide your study plan.

Practice makes perfect. Utilize official practice materials and focus on reading extensively in English daily. This not only improves comprehension skills but also builds speed — a crucial factor during the exam.

Consider joining a study group or seeking professional guidance if you’re feeling stuck. Sharing strategies and insights can illuminate new approaches that you hadn’t considered before.

Stay positive and motivated as you prepare for round two of the test. Each effort brings you closer to achieving your goals, so embrace this opportunity for growth!

IELTS Listening: The importance of synonyms

When preparing for the IELTS Listening section, grasping synonyms is crucial. The test often uses varied vocabulary to convey the same idea. If you only focus on exact phrases, you might miss key information.

For instance, if a speaker says “happy,” they could also use words like “joyful” or “content.” Recognizing these alternatives can significantly impact your score.

Practice by listening to different English speakers in various contexts. Podcasts and news broadcasts are great resources. They expose you to diverse ways of expressing similar concepts.

Additionally, when reviewing practice tests, pay attention to how questions rephrase statements from audio clips. This will sharpen your listening skills and prepare you for unexpected vocabulary during the exam.

Building a strong synonym bank enriches your understanding and boosts confidence as you tackle this challenging component of the IELTS test.

IELTS Speaking: What is the examiner looking for?

When you sit down for the IELTS Speaking test, it’s crucial to understand what examiners are really assessing. They aren’t just listening for perfect grammar or an extensive vocabulary.

Examiners look for fluency and coherence in your responses. This means speaking naturally and connecting your ideas logically. It’s about how well you can maintain a conversation rather than reciting memorized answers.

Pronunciation is another vital aspect. Clear enunciation makes it easier for the examiner to understand you, even if your accent differs from theirs.

Additionally, they assess lexical resource — your ability to use a variety of words appropriately. Don’t hesitate to showcase synonyms or idiomatic expressions; this demonstrates linguistic flexibility.

Be authentic in your responses. Share personal experiences and opinions confidently; this adds depth to your answers and engages the examiner more effectively.

IELTS Preparation: Stress management

Preparing for the IELTS can feel overwhelming. The pressure to achieve a high score often leads to stress. Managing this stress is crucial for success.

Start by creating a study schedule. A structured plan helps you allocate time effectively and reduces anxiety about last-minute cramming. Break your preparation into manageable chunks; tackling smaller tasks feels less daunting.

Incorporate relaxation techniques such as deep breathing or meditation into your routine. These practices can help clear your mind before studying or taking practice tests, allowing better focus.

Physical activity also plays an essential role in reducing stress levels. Even short walks can refresh your mindset and boost energy, making study sessions more productive.

Don’t hesitate to reach out for support from friends or fellow test-takers. Sharing experiences and tips not only lightens the load but also builds confidence as you prepare together.

IELTS Writing: The most difficult paper?

When it comes to the IELTS exam, many candidates often label the writing section as the most challenging. This perception stems from multiple factors. First, time management becomes crucial here. You have just 60 minutes to complete two tasks: a descriptive report and an essay. It can be overwhelming for even seasoned writers.

Another hurdle is mastering coherence and cohesion in your writing. The examiner looks for clear organization of ideas and logical flow between them, which requires practice and familiarity with various structures. Many students find themselves struggling to present their arguments effectively under pressure.

Moreover, vocabulary plays a significant role in scoring well on this paper. While using complex words might seem impressive, clarity should never be sacrificed for complexity alone. Striking that balance takes effort but pays off.

Understanding assessment criteria is vital — your response must meet specific requirements outlined by the exam board if you wish to achieve your desired score.

As with any skill, preparation is essential. By identifying weak areas early on and tackling them head-on through targeted practice and feedback sessions, you can significantly improve your performance across all sections of the IELTS test — not just writing alone!

Visit Here - https://cambridgeenglishacademy.com/best-ielts-coaching-institute-in-delhi/

[lildevyl]

Whumptober Day 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Fable SMP  (Superhero AU)

Summary:  Icarus starts their experiments to showcase that they are indeed ready to be a Hero like their Father and brother! When one of the experiments backfires, Icarus finds themselves in a different location with no memory of who they are or what happened to them.

A/N: All credit for the names go to MamaCuddles/Nyx(She/They) and pine, local unhinged writer :D from the Fable SMP Discord. Thank You my Multi-Fandom Fiends for all your help!

TW: Mention of Explosions, Scars, and Hospitals

*****

(Icarus’s Lab)

Icarus Morningstar, better known to the citizens of Fable City as the Alchemist, standing in their Lab working around the clock.  Icarus is the youngest Potion Master in half a century.  Icarus smiled to themself at that memory.  Just 21 years of age and they manage to accomplish a feat that so many thought was impossible.  Potions just came easy to Icarus.

Icarus was always fascinated by the chemistry and magic in potions.  Something about being able to combine two very different subsidence that should never be able to work together but do.  Just captured their attention and never let go.  Now, here Icarus was working feverishly to make this potion perfect.  The Potion of Mind Weakness had to be ready and perfect.

Why does it have to be perfect again? - potion stand

Wait, why are you doing this again? - googles

Icarus can you hear us?

Guys I don’t think they can hear us! - flower pot

“No, I can hear you chat.  I’m just choosing to ignore you.  As for your answer though.  It’s because if I make this correctly then I’ll finally be able to prove to the Hero Association that I’m a true Hero.  That I actually earned my Hero License and not because of who my brother or Dad is.”  Icarus told the everythings, their “Chat” as they called them.

Ever since Icarus could remember, they kept hearing voices that no one else could.  But it wasn’t just human voices, it was everywhere.  The bugs, the plants, the animals, any and all inanimate objects.  You name it Icarus heard them loud and clear.  Sometimes, it was nice though.  Being able to talk to them and not feel like they were losing their mind.  Sometimes, it was nice to just be able to talk out loud and get what they were feeling off their chest.  Unfortunately, Icarus had to be careful, because even in the world where everyone has some kind of enhancement or power.  Telling someone that you can hear their microwave talking will land you to a one way ticket to a Psychologist Office.  So, Icarus had to keep that part to themself.

So, what does this do again? - potion bottle

“This Chat is the Potion of Mind Weakness.  If done right then it will weaken the person under Siren’s or Empress Mindphase’s control.   There is one catch though.  If you're in the area of the potion, you too could be affected and be easily under either one's control. So far I haven’t found out how to just make it affect the targeted person and not just the target area?”  Icarus pondered to themself.

Going back over to the Potion Stands and taking one of the Mind Weakness Potions, picking one of the smaller ones up to examine it more.  The color changes to different shades of purple, then a deep night sky blue, with small specs of amber color that looks like glitter thrown in there.  Taking a sample out, and placing it on the slide and then placing the slide under the microscope, Icarus starts to take notes on what they see.

After going over countless lists and cross referencing every single book, old and new that Icarus has in their extended Library, they even borrow a few stacks from their brother Rae.  Icarus thinks that they might have finally found a few of the ingredients to the Mind Weakness Potion that could work!  Both were extremely rare and hard to find, and nearly impossible to get.  But Icarus was determined to do this!

So, after hours of searching their lab, Icarus came back with one of the ingredients to try in the potion, the Eye of Ender.   Icarus took the Eye of Ender and put it on the table and grabbed a brand new pair of gloves. Then they proceeded to make the Eye of Ender into a fine powder with the mortar and pestle and measure out the amount they think they might need.  After going over their notes and readjusting the amount of the Ender Powder to what they believe will work best for the potion.  Icarus then carefully gathered the powder and added it to the potion.

The result was instant!  Taking their notebook and began scribbling furiously of what they discovered, Icarus didn’t notice the sudden change in the potion.  The potion that they added the Ender Powder too, began to change to nearly black color, the amber color spectacles became more of blood red.  And the potion began to bubble and fizz.

Icarus looked up after hearing the sizzling sound and quickly rushed over.  But it was too late.

BOOM!

*************

(Fable Hospital)

Beep.  Beep.  Beep.  Beep.

What was that sound?  Beep.  Beep.  Beep.  Why does everything hurt?  Beep.  Beep.  Beep.  Where am I?  They groaned, and their eyes began to flutter open, only to quickly shut them tight from the blinding light that just attacked their eyes.  After taking several deep breaths to try and calm themselves, they reopened their eyes and looked around.  They were in a whitewashed room, with chairs, several wires and tubes hooked up to them.  Oh, the beeping sound was coming from that whatchamacallit thing.

They then looked over to the right and noticed someone that was sitting there in a chair.  She had a long black elegant dress, a tiara on her head, black hair, and what looked to be Enderman features on her face, hands and head.  They had no idea who she was, but she was a very pretty lady.  Maybe she could help them.

“Oh, good you’re awake,” The pretty lady said softly.  “I wasn’t sure when you wake up.”

“Um,” they started.  “Who - who are you?”

“You - you don’t recognize me?”  They shook their head no.  As a matter of fact, they couldn’t even remember their own name right now.  “Oh Sherbert.”  Sherbert?  Was that their name?  “The doctors said you might have some memory problems.  I was just hoping you still recognized me.”

“Sorry,” they - Sherbert was it? - apologize.

“Oh my son.  No need to apologize.  “I'm just glad that I was the one that was found before the Heroes did," she said in a motherly voice.  What?!  Before the Heroes found them?  “Yes, before the Heroes found you.  Someone, I except, from the Hero Association, tried to sabotage your experiment.  Resulting in you having memory loss.  If the Hero Association were the ones that found you first.  Then they could’ve easily concocted up an elaborate scheme and just swept this under the rug.”

“I don’t understand,” Sherbert said.

“I’m your Mother, Enderian.  You’re my child, Sherbert.  You go by they/them pronouns but you’re also well known here in the city, as Elixir.  You were a Vigilante who specialized in Potions.  And is one of the best Potion Masters of all time.  But someone in the Hero Association kept trying to get you arrested or worse.  And now I see that they tried to kill you by setting up your Lab to explode.”

Memories of before came rushing back to Sherbert like a tsunami.  They were in their lab working on some kind of potion.  Before they were arguing with someone.  A top Hero maybe?  They can’t remember.  All they remember was, working on the potion, something went wrong, an explosion, pain.  Lots and lots of pain.  Lots and lots of heat and burning.  Then nothing.

“Who did it?”  Sherbert demanded.

“I - I don’t know, son,” Enderian said.  “But when I find out we will make them pay for what they did to you.”

“What happened to me?”  Sherbert asked in a frightened tone in their voice.

Enderian went to grab a small mirror and then handed it to Sherbert.  Sherbert took the mirror and looked.  But they wished they hadn’t.  Sherbert screamed and threw the mirror towards the wall.  Shattering it on impact.

Sherbert's eyes were two different colors, one was blue and the other was yellow, but underneath one of the eyes looked like blood was dripping from it nonstop.  But that’s not why Sherbert screamed.  They screamed because of the black, purple, and red lines crisscrossing like veins across their face and neck.  Mixed in with the second and third-degree burns on their neck, chin, and now that see and feel it, all over the hands and arms.

Sherbert vowed to get revenge on whoever did this to them.

*****

Tagging: @whumptober, @weirdmixofweirdness, @isa-ghost, @tracobuttons, @a-humble-narcissus

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || LITTLE CAGED ARTIST

| featuring : ryomen sukuna ft. itadori yuji 

| warnings : mention of emotional abuse and murder as well as grammar errors

| form : imagine

| word count : 1691

| published : 22 december

| request : Hello, idk if your request are open but feel free to ignore, but just, imagine another reencarnation au (those imaginw of yours are my favourite) where the reader was a painter and Sukuna's personal favourite so he took her and kinda abused her psycologicaly to the point where she would just draw him and only him and he loved that, and in the future she's still an artist that draws Yuuji bc theyre friends but when she sees the tatoos she again draws Sukuna and he feels guilty for the way he treated her and her art in the pastIf It's angst i would apreciate but it's not really necesary

| barista’s notes : hi there~ i apologies for the extremely long wait for your coffee order but now it is there ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ right now it is nearly 5am in the morning and i have no idea why the hell i am awake, but oh well ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ  DONT WORRY THOUGH! after this, i am going to sleep and rest up since today it is Fushiguro Megumi’s and Kageyama Tobio’s birthday today ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ but other than that, i hope you enjoy your order of a cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and i hope you come back soon! ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

“Sukuna….please leave me alone...leave the village alone, I beg of you please,” you whimpered to the man that was standing tall and proud with a sadistic smirk painted on his face, while you were on your knees tightly holding onto his large wrist - somewhat slightly covering the black ring marking - as if your weak physical strength could do anything to stop his raising them up and giving a rain upon hell to the people that was residing in the small town you lived in.

You have no idea how you had managed to catch the attention of the most feared curse to both humans and jujutsu sorcerers nor did you know how you managed to become acquainted with the man in front of you. All you knew right now was that the situation you were in at this current moment and time, was not ideal to anyone at all.

You were just a simple artist. A simple village girl artist that was blessed to be hired by the nobility and aristocracy to paint their family portraits with the finest colours that they would offer you, for you to be then paid so you could provide for your village. However, as luxurious as it sounded, you were in love with the idea of just placing a sharped piece of charcoal on a piece of paper or cloth you could find anywhere and sketch your heart designed.

“Leave you alone?” Sukuna questioned you in his deep voice, before slowly crouching down to become face to face with you. “I could never leave you alone, not when you have caught my attention with your craft little one,” Sukuna then stated, as he gently placed a hand on your cheek before using his thumb to caress the soft skin he was touching. 

Ever since Sukuna had caught sight of you delicately painting a portrait of a noblewoman with such care and gentleness, he couldn’t help but wonder how your hands were so carefully and how patient you were to make sure every stroke was perfect to your desire. Slowly, he began to wonder what it was like to be the subject of one's view. A subject that someone desired to recreate on a simple piece of paper. However, compared to his past sightings, you were the most talented as well as the most beautiful he had ever seen and once he was able to gain a clear view of the noble woman that you were illustration, he was surprised at how much detail you were able to encapture in your work and just like the noble woman’s reaction, they both were extremely happy with the result of the final product.

“How about this?” Sukuna suddenly asked, causing your head to suddenly shot up leading you to meet eye to eye with the King of Curses, “if you come with me and draw me and me only for the rest of time, I would leave this little village alone as well as the people residing in it. How does that sound, little one?”

‘Come with him? Where? Why? What’s going to happen to me?’

“If you don’t accept this deal, every single person here will die. Burned, stabbed, slashed, any way possible I can. Men, women and even little children’s lives will be gone, and it would be all your fault.”

‘My….fault? But-’

“You know I’m not a patient person little one, I might as well start my massacre while you take your time to think, it will be-”

“NO PLEASE! DON’T, YOU CAN TAKE ME, JUST LEAVE THE VILLAGE ALONE, PLEASE!” you screamed in desperation, as you tighten the grip of his wrist that was within your grasp to keep him down, as you didn’t want to risk him getting away from your sights for the safety and protection of the people  within the little town you had lived in since the day your life had started.

With a large cruel grin, Sukuna had somehow managed to pry his wrists free from your tense grip before sliding an arm under your knees as well as an arm around your body lifting you up in a bridal position, while you were just expressing a face of shock and fear, confused and fearful on what you had just accepted in exchange for your life. Where were you going? Was this the end? Were you going to die? How much longer have you had left?

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you, you’re too precious to be slaughtered little one,” Sukuna answered - as if he knew what you were thinking - before placing a ghostly kiss upon your temple leading you to freeze still, petrified on what he would do with you had moved a single inch.

This was your life now. 

A caged artist.

                                               ꕥ

Here you were, sitting on a wooden platform outside with a sharpened piece of charcoal that Sukuna had kindly given you, in order for you to sketch a portrait of him. The second you placed the charcoal upon the paper, Sukuna couldn’t help but stare at the light movements of your hand as you lightly stroke a few lines to create an outline before watching your hand suddenly pause, causing the King of Curses to switch his view from the sheet to you, only to find your look at him with such a frightened look.

“I’m sorry…..I shouldn’t look at you, should I? I apologise deeply,” you softly muttered before quickly turning back to the portrait that was right in front of you - you didn’t want to do anything wrong in his eyes, you knew he could go back on his words and harm the people that you cared about. However, it seemed like Sukuna didn’t care at all, he had managed to trap you into his life and had the power to demand you to draw him every time he would mention he could go back to your little village and burn it to the ground. He relished in the idea of being the subject of your attention.

This is what he wanted. 

His little caged artist.

                                               ꕥ

1000 years later and here you were. 

Here you were sketching a picture of your best-friend Itadori with a picture of him that you had managed to capture on your phone. Itadori first came into your life shortly after you had enrolled into Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Techincal College around the same time as your other classmate Kugisaki did. 

You have no idea what drew you into the boy with the pink hair, but something within you pulled you towards him causing the blooming and somewhat hilarious friendship to start, even causing Fushiguro and Kugisaki to wonder what was going on in your mind to somehow relate to the boy - yet, they didn’t mention their questions since they didn’t really think you knew the answer yourself, and they were correct.

However, as you continued to smoothly glide your pencil across the page, applying different pressures to construct some definitions as well as shadows within the photo you were copying from, you began to suddenly realise that you were starting to draw marking upon his portrait. Markings that were so familiar to the ones the person within him had.

Ever since that day at the Eishu Detention Centre, the sight of Sukuna standing in front of you with his shirt ripped off showcasing his black marking caused a trigger of unknown memories to suddenly flood into your mind, causing excruciating pain that was so unbearable, you thought you were going to pass out from the intense pressure, maybe as even close to dying from the immense pain.

From what you could even recall from the sudden flood of blurry images that appeared in your mind, there was a picture of you drawing with a piece of charcoal with the infamous King of Curses seating right beside you, watching you draw will whispering in your ear the threats that he would bombard you in order for you to make sure that you were only drawing him and him only.

Slowly but in a shaking manner, your drawing hand continued to sketch in Sukuna’s markings that would appear on Itadori’s body as you were somewhat extremely afraid of what the King of Curses could do to you if you didn’t - just how you left 1000 years ago.

Although unknown to you, your best-friend Itadori was standing right behind you, having a clear view of what was happening to you as well as the drawing right in front of him. Seeing your shaking figure with slow but clear teardrops landing on the sketch book as well as the drawing evolving from him to the curse residing inside of him, made him realise how damaging Sukuna was to not only him but also to the people around him. Carefully, Itadori placed a hand over your hand that held the pencil, causing you to flinch before finally noticing that it was your friend that was holding it and not the special grade curse.

Within his Innate Domain, Sukuna also had a clear view on what was happening to you and slowly but strangely began to feel something drop to his stomach with the feeling of his throat closing up at the sight of you slowly breaking down into a small state of insanity. This isn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want his beautiful little one to become lifeless and paranoid like you were now.

Even after 1000 years after your death, your incarnation was carrying the feeling of fear, despair and numbness that you were weighed upon the second you had given your life away to the King of Curses for the sake of your village. Even though you had more freedom then you did then, you still left trapped and lost within the metal cage that Sukuna had enclosed you in. Even with the small hint of guilt that was manifested within the cruel curse’s heart. 

You were trapped with no escape out.

You were trapped forever with no key to open the door that was clearly right in front of you.

Forever his little caged artist.

[ootahime]

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga p2

part 1 is here :3

this post includes more excruciatingly long paragraphs so grab urself something and enjoy LOL

chapter 40 

i know they’re not interacting in this panel but i still want to bring it up.  i’m gonna give some context to this scene in case someone needs to jog their memory.  so basically, mei’s ability to command crows is what allows the staff to observe the students from afar.  however, gojo notices that there’s lack of footage where yuuji is and asks mei why that’s so.  she tells him that they’re animals at the end of the day so she can’t control what they look at.  he doesn’t believe her so he asks her whose side she’s on (for yuuji’s execution vs against yuuji’s execution) to which she responds with, “whose side?  i’m on the side with money, of course.  there’s no value in something that can’t be bought since you can’t exchange that for money.”  in other words, she’ll always choose the side that offers her more money because she doesn’t care about how morally “correct” or “incorrect” something is.  it’s not worth fighting for a cause that doesn’t benefit her in the long run which is why she views things that are unable to be bought (friendships, relationships, favors) as useless - they can’t be exchanged for money.  it’s clear that gojo knows she’s not on his side because he replies with, “spoken from experience!” or “i wonder how much!” (translation varies).  he says it out loud to perhaps let gakuganji know that he’s onto him.  i find it interesting how utahime is in the panel as well with a “?” to express her confusion at his words.  let’s overthink dissect that.  why is she there in the first place? if the message was to let gakuganji know that gojo is aware of his ulterior motives then a panel with gakuganji and gojo would have sufficed.  why add utahime with a question mark? 

here’s a personal headcanon of mine that makes no absolute sense, but who cares? it makes me happy LOL.  so let’s examine the panel.  gojo’s face is more simplified and cartoonish with a grey background on top and some sort of white bubble surrounding the three characters.  gakuganji is staring at utahime and gojo.  in the official viz translation, he replies to mei with, “i wonder how much!”  

normal and logical explanation: shading the principal by asking out loud how much mei was paid by him to avoid monitoring yuuji.

gojohime brainrot explanation: 

mei: “there’s no value in something that can’t be bought since you can’t exchange that for money”

gojo: (in response) i wonder how much utahime’s love would cost if it did have a price.

utahime: ?

you’re probably thinking i’m delulu (true) BUT HEAR ME OUT.  IT WOULD SOMEWHAT MAKE SENSE IN THIS CONTEXT...

mei’s saying seems to be what she lives by.  relationships, love, friendships, etc. do not matter to her as this is evident when she ultimately abandons everyone in shibuya to escape to malaysia, selling all her stocks before japan’s economy goes down.  she doesn’t care about anyone else.  she even takes advantage of ui ui’s adoration for her.  she contrasts utahime.  utahime is loved by her students.  children, especially teenagers, are picky when it comes to choosing the adults they admire and respect.  while everyone trusts gojo, they do not respect him because of his childishness and overall absurdity.  it’s refreshing to see how they always call him an idiot or have a -_- face when he’s around.  when akutami says everyone absolutely adores utahime-sensei, it says a lot.  we haven’t seen her interact with her students all that much, but she’s obviously close to them because she’s frequently arguing with momo.  even a closed off person like mechamaru wanted to keep her away from danger.  she most certainly expresses a lot of concern and care for her students, and gojo and her students can pick up on this. 

i’ve talked about this in every post LOLOL but there’s a reason why he went to utahime first to help him investigate.  utahime is a loyal person through and through.  she would never do something that harms the students even if she was offered everything in the world.  she values relationships above everything else.  besides her concern for the students, how else was i able to come to this conclusion about her character?  well, she got shoko to stop smoking because she was worried about how it might damage her friend’s health.  from these two details, it’s obvious that she’s the complete opposite of mei.  

maybe that’s why he calls her weak.  she’s too selfless and compassionate in a world where every sorcerer is for themselves.  the world is cruel as a sorcerer.  no matter how hard you try to fight, in the end, you’ll always die alone.  remember his talk with megumi after the baseball game?  after witnessing megumi pull a sacrificial bunt to help his teammates advance, gojo has a talk with megumi about his attitude and potential.  he says that being selfless and caring about others is not a bad thing, but in a world like this, where people always die alone, he is wasting his potential by being concerned with others.  it’s okay to be selfish.  this is why we see fierce independence in a lot of the sorcerers like mei, nanami, and gojo.  they each have their own reasons as to why they work alone, but it’s still a common characteristic.  i feel like utahime doesn’t have a selfish bone in her body.  i speculate that her selflessness is the exact reason why she is being held back.  during her mission to exorcise a grade 1 spirit by herself, the final task before being promoted to grade 1, she likely got distracted trying to help civilians out of danger and failed her mission.  he’s right when he says she doesn’t have the guts to be the traitor, utahime doesn’t have it in her to do something so boldly solely for her own benefit.  

after this long tangent, how does this relate to your headcanon, ootahime?  

as you know, love is not transactional.  you can’t pay someone to love you.  what if gojo is asking himself how much it would cost to buy her love.  hence, her confusion because she is oblivious to what he really means.  it could be probable because gakuganji is observing not only gojo, but utahime as well.  so what gojo says must involve her too, right?  

or she could just be confused because his words seem out of place because she is unaware of what gakuganji is doing behind everyone’s back.  that explanation makes sense for viz’s official translation but it doesn’t make sense when he says, “spoken from experience!” because his words make sense in that context.  he’s basically saying that mei’s beliefs must be based on her past experiences so he understands why she feels this way.  that’s an appropriate response to mei’s statement so i don’t see why utahime would be confused by this.  unless i’m interpreting this whole scene completely wrong.  in that case, whoopsies!  

let me know if you’re confused because i’m willing to clarify.  idk why but i found this really difficult to explain.  maybe because i’m reaching so hard haha

chapter 40

he finds any way he can to tease her.  they seem like a married couple watching a movie or something.  does he take pride in being the only person she doesn’t get along with?  i mean, she says it herself so he is aware she thinks he’s annoying, but he keeps picking on her anyway.  he doesn’t even pick on his enemies this much LMAOOO i think the only other person he likes to make fun of is gakuganji but he does so because he doesn’t agree with his views.  with utahime it’s different.  he trusts her a lot and even looks out for her.  

chapter 44

why are there two separate instances of gakuganji observing utahime and gojo’s interactions from afar?  nah i’m just playing.  he’s just looking because he’s concerned she’ll run into the semi-grade 1 curse he had for yuuji.  OKAY BUT I NOTICED SOMETHING KINDA CUTE?  whenever utahime says something suddenly, he always has those 3 little triangles near his head.  it’s like he’s thinking, “oh!  utahime is speaking, i must listen <3″  look at his face too.  he’s looking at her like :O

this is also an example of her showcasing her concern for the students in front of gojo.  i feel like he questions why she’s so caring because if it were him, he would have left the student to figure it out themselves.  i really wonder how she would react if he answered her truthfully when she asked what he’d do if she were the traitor.  

chapter 45

there’s not much to say here...they’re just cute.  i know it’ll never happen but i’d like to see them fight side by side one day.  i’m aware that gojo works best alone but i just want to see how they’d work together, okay? 😔

chapter 45

see the little triangles on his head again?  UGH SO CUTE.  

chapter 45

IS THIS NOT INTENTIONAL???  they share the same thoughts.  he even finished her thought.  mannnnnnnnnnnnn what is akutami doing?  giving us false hope and stripping it away just for fun?  making them work so well together for what??

chapter 52

cute how he looks out for her.  i have nothing more to say LOL

chapter 53

notice how they’re sitting across from each other?  HEHE

chapter 53

yet another instance of her caring for her students in front of gojo.  in the anime she has the cutest expression when she says she’s glad the students are safe.  i bet gojo saw that too.  i also bet that she looks prettier from his point of view.

extra

from the manga and light novels, gojo and utahime are the ones that talk about sports the most.  he most definitely chose baseball to cheer her up.  it’s not a coincidence people!  

--

i feel like i had a lot more to say but i completely lost my train of thought while writing this, especially with chapter 40. i’m once again writing this at 4 in the morning LOL........  please please please add on or share your thoughts!  thank you for reading and sorry for any mistakes.  

[glorified-red]

What is the boys go to method of persuasion (read: manipulation) and how would someone persuade them in turn?

This request took wayyyy too many of my brain cells, thanks fish, you’ve killed me

Batboys Method of Persuasion

word count: 1390~

warnings: none

I’ve been wanting to write angst for a few days now and I am so close to diving into Nightmare and never coming back until the whole series is written.

Dick Grayson

Dick uses social influence consciously and subconsciously all the time

Social influence is how we are all wired to believe that if the people we admire are doing something, then that behavior is normal and we should act that way as well

He uses this to his advantage whenever he leads the titans or any of his siblings

A role model of sorts

Dick acts like the perfect vigilante and people subconsciously follow

It started with Jason when he was first learning about Robin, then with Tim, and eventually with Damian

Going out to patrol with Jason and being very careful about what he’s doing in front of him in the off chance that he picks up the habits Dick has

Knowing Tim watches him so closely so Dick might as well take advantage of it to keep his brother safe with protective patrol actions

Seeing Damians adoration for Dick and genuinely trusting what his older brother says, so why not slowly show Damian how to assimilate into the family through his actions

Theres plenty of different ways this affects Dick however

The constant pressure of needing to be perfect and make the right choices

The feeling of everyone and no-one watching him at all times

And even people pleasing tendencies, because what else is left of his self-importance without admiration?

Which is exactly why the easiest way to persuade Dick into doing something, is making sure he likes and trusts you

He couldn't care less about what strangers think of him, but those close to him? Those inside his circle of influence? Dick wants them to love him

Thats exactly why he tries to keep the family together; exactly why he takes every argument with his siblings to heart

The Liking Principle: we are more likely to comply with requests made by people we like

Ask Dick to do something and he will cross a valley for you not only because he loves you, but because he feels like he has to go through with it to make sure you still love him.

Jason Todd

Jason loves to use reciprocity

He exploits it every chance he can when he’s the Red Hood, how else would he have gotten so powerful?

Reciprocity is how we feel obligated to give back to others what we receive from them, especially if there was no cost to begin with

Jason spared plenty of criminals as Hood to use them for deals or favors later, always bringing up the fact that he could've killed them and could kill them now

He’s not afraid to say to those criminals, “Remember when I did this for you? Yea, I want compensation now.”

He doesn't use it much to his family aside from the typical sibling drama of Jason driving to get Tim food and then bringing it up again to get a few pop tarts during patrol

The more the time passes though, the less he can use reciprocity since it'll lose its draw

So he tends to use it within a few days or weeks

Jason keeps tabs, especially when it comes to crime lords or mob bosses

With his family he kinda just remembers? He’ll see a cookie and automatically remember that Dick owes him a pint of ice cream

But reciprocity works both ways

Jason knows this, so if anyone is smart and cunning enough to see through his manipulation and do it back? He’ll comply

The best way to do this is through consistency and commitment

Make Jason commit to his morals or word by bringing up statements he’s made in the past

His word means a lot to him so twisting it or holding him to it will definitely make him cave

Especially if his word was public and other people were there as witness

But be sure to reward him and reciprocate so that he keeps doing it ;)

Tim Drake

Tim’s method of persuasion is so meticulous 

Anchoring: the tendency to rely heavily on the information presented first when making a decision

He mostly uses this at work because it works better with numbers

Having a point value presented for the company so he can appease the snarky board of directors

Twisting and manipulating how the stock market values look by prefacing inflation or previous values from months past 

Or maybe shifting employee percentages around to make it seem more successful than it really is, not by a lot but enough that Tim can get them off his back

It’s not lying, he’s just presenting the information a different way that makes it seem more pleasant for his side

Since Tim is well aware that information can be tweaked or presented in a bias manner, persuading him can be a bit tricky considering he’d much rather do his own research

The Ellsberg Paradox, a wonderful experiment that showed people tend to lean towards things they know about rather than take a chance on unknown factors

Like the true introvert he is, Tim needs to know every detail before he makes a decision on something instead of going in blind and regretting it

Want to persuade him into going to a party? He needs to know exactly who's going, what to wear, what’s being served, what’s the earliest time he can leave—the list goes on

Trying to persuade him into doing something risky? Give him the details and he’d have no choice but to sigh and go through with it

Damian Wayne 

Damian and the hot-hand fallacy

When someone experiences a success, they’re more likely to continue that streak

He uses this to his advantage when it comes to Robin

Showing his father that he is self-sufficient because Damian busted this ring by himself and took down this villain too

Setting down a steady foundation of success to persuade more privilege and independence with the cape on

It’s a way to prove he belongs as well as keep the line of success for Robin going, purifying the colors so to speak

Dami also uses it on his siblings, especially when Dick took Batman’s role

Taking a weak, low point and showcasing the success that was brought to the mantle through him rather than previous Robins

It’s his confidence, his drive, the passion to maintain success lest he break that streak and tarnish his name

He's also used it to present new tactics or weaponry to the family, stating the success rate or how it has been used in the family before

However, with the inflated importance of Robin’s role, it doesn't take much to persuade Damian back into line

That’s where his weakness of persuasion comes in, The Authority Bias

Authority figures are perceived to be correct and have a stronger influence on others because of this

Damian not only grew up being forced to respect Ra’s and Thalia, but its so deep rooted in him that it is very rare for him to speak out against someone of higher authority than him

Hence why he respects Dick so much as Batman, or even Bruce because he is Damians biological father

So the easiest way to persuade Damian into doing something is to assert authority or dominance over him

There has to be merit behind it however, or he will call your bluff and not take you seriously

Bonus

All of the batboys share one method of persuasion that can also work on them: Mimicry

Its natural for us to respond more positively to people who act, look, or sound similar to us

This comes in handy with survivors on patrol, each of the boys mimicking body language or softening their voices to appear less threatening

In Jason’s case, he likes to appear more human by taking off his helmet so his voice doesn't sound as intimidating, it sounds similar and soft

For Tim, he sometimes takes off his cape to seem less like a super hero and more like an ordinary guy, especially for younger kids

In general though, it’s an unspoken bond between them all that they can tell exactly who each brother likes just by watching mimicking body language or adaptation of speech—very easy to tease each other about it

And of course, mimicry works on each of them as well

Makes them all—in their own way—feel less outcasted

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@bungunz

@red-hood-redemption ​​

@missredrobin

[alluringjae]

until dawn; pt. II - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 12.2k

⤑ genre: ANGST, fluff, romance, smut (f receiving, dom!jeno waow, dirty talk, wrap it everyone) | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, enemies to lovers!au, college!au, night at the museum-inspired!au

⤑ warnings: references to actual historical figures, explicit language, graphic details, major heartbreak caused by another party, expect time jumps too

⤑ author’s note: happy jeno day!! i’ve been so excited to post this part, and i’m happy we’re here!! perhaps, this is the last long fic i’ll write for a while so i can rest, but i’ll still be posting short stories within the weeks to come! i’m excited for may to say the least hehe

btw, for the smut scene (indicated with **), i highly recommend you listen to strange (feat. hillary smith) by kris bowers!! this song is from the bridgerton soundtrack, and oh man, the feels!!

with that, enjoy!

italicized text either means they are personal notes or flashbacks.

this was meant to be more angsty, but either way, i screamed every time i wrote something gut-wrenching.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome

​ ⤑ ctto above!!

⤑  leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!

“You ready to get your butt beaten by me, Lee?”

“Prepare your final words when I win instead, (Y/L/N).”

Mischievous banter exchanged between you two became a new norm. Almost every night, someone within the art pieces established a contest over anything and it released the competitive sides of you two. So far, Jeno has been winning. Not like it hurt your pride, but maybe just once, you could conquer one game to feel better. Not only that, there’s a mini penalty for the loser. So far, you’ve cleaned up the lobby yourself and acted cutely to everyone the entire evening (or aegyo as Jeno called it).

Tonight, a game of archery was held by the Greek gods. They pushed away any extra pieces away, leaving the whole room vacant with two boards right beside Zeus’ throne. Numerous arrows were produced and sharpened, Zeus in the center announced to everyone participating.

“It’ll be 1 on 1 games. First to go are Jeno vs (Y/N), followed by Athena vs. Hermes, Cleopatra vs. Freddie, and last would be Hades vs Aphrodite.”

Cutting the chase, you didn’t expect Jeno to be that good at archery. Sure, he told you that he took classes with his friends for fun when he was younger, though it showed that he’s a fast learner and even hit one bullseye in the middle of the game.

Not slightly threatened until the last rounds, you fixed your aim and lessened your overthinking when preparing to shoot. Thus, you scored 2 bullseyes shot. It was a close fight, having the audience on the edge on their feet again because it’s the two of you. Your dynamic with the night guard always elevated the mood, shifting their bets over and over again.

By 1 point, you received your first victory against Jeno. Unlike you, he showcased his sportsmanship sweetly without any comments of disbelief. He’s never bragged about anything big in his life, not unless it’s a high grade for his plate. Normally, he celebrated wins in a laid-back manner. But don’t be fooled: he loves giving penalties.

“This is why I don’t make bets with my friends because I really go for their weak spots.”

“You’re cynical, Lee Jeno.”

“Only if you’re close to me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Aren’t we already past that stage?”

Almost halfway through his job, he sustained a meaningful friendship with you. Out of everyone, you were his default person to hang out within the nights he had a shift. If he wasn’t present, he made sure to give you small treats or gifts as much as possible. An innocent friendship, it was that the world would’ve never believed in.

Or was it?

“To celebrate your win, what do you want me to do?”

“You’re too kind for me to play around with, even if you’re the complete opposite of me.”

“I’ll make it simple and worthwhile since I don’t know when I’ll win a game again.” As your finger tapped your temple as you pondered deeply, a smart idea came through. “Grant me 3 wishes.”

He chuckled, lowering himself to view you better. “Am I like some genie now to you?”

“No room to complain, I won, didn’t I?” You grinned, raising one brow to show your dominance.

“You’re petty in your own way, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. Now come on, I want to use my first wish.” You shrugged it off like no big deal, loving the high feeling of triumph. You lead him to the center of the lobby, where a beautiful grand piano only selected people get to play during exhibits. “Open the museum piano.”

Ever since you were brought to life, you never used it. Tempting but because people from the outside might here, maybe it’s time to try something new. A new challenge, and besides, you missed entertaining people through it. The last time you touched the delicate piano keys was to your family before you ran away.

It’s a good thing that in the shackle of keys Jeno held, the needed key was there. Unlocking the lustrous black instrument, you sat by the matching black bench. Crackling your fingers, you tested by pressing a few keys to get the hang of it again.

“What are you planning to play, (Y/N)?” Jeno leaned against the side, his arms crossed.

Humming the first notes of your piece, the nostalgia ran through your veins. “Nocturne No. 2 in E flat by Chopin.”

Your fingers took off and played each chord slowly and calmly. This piece reminded you the most of your mother, who sat by the couch in front of your old piano with your father while guests from the party they hosted crowded around you. Being the youngest, they often requested you to perform as entertainment so you always put your best foot forward. Or so you tried.

Nevertheless, no one else in your family was capable to play this piece as perfectly as you. By the way your eyes closed and your body swayed to the mellow tune, Jeno observed how you memorized this piece by heart. A passionate flame you were, outshining every pianist out there.

He wasn’t surprised at how multi-talented you were, though there’s a different kind of aura you present when you played the instrument. From your hard and tough front, you could be soft and sweet to the right people.

In a way, you showed your comfort toward the boy by serenading him with the piano. Sketching him with him in the past was one thing, but this was another. You’d sketch with people you’ve grown used to, but you play piano to people you want to cherish in your life. As dangerous as it seems, Jeno was someone special to you, only wanting to have good moments with him.

Junmyeon will always have a huge part in your museum life, but Jeno filled the emptiness that he left behind. This loneliness for a human friend vanquished thanks to Jeno, and you didn’t want to jeopardize it at all. Sure, whenever he acted like a gentleman around you, let you inside the Foreign Art Room, or brought you food sometimes, you couldn’t help feel honored.

Though lately, every time he showed off his strength when he defeated Zeus and Hades during an arm wrestle game the god held again. You seriously had to catch a breath at every flex his arms made, like the goddesses. Maybe how he pushed his black hair back when he’s drawing another plate, you’d give yourself a few extra seconds to see his long fingers skim through them. He’d bit his lower lip when he’s in too deep with his creativity, wondering if he’d bite the lower lip of the girl he’d ki-

All right, (Y/N), relax. Maybe you’re thinking this way because it’s been decades since your last relationship. You wouldn’t want to fall for another possible trap and hurt yourself again, right?

Ever since this job, Jeno’s university life drastically changed. Yes, he still hung out with his friends and performed extremely well in his classes, though he prioritized anything related to the museum wherever he was. If they were drinking out, he’d buy an extra bottle of soju for you on his way back to the dorm. Rarely does he get shitfaced anyways.

If he and Renjun visited the bookstore to purchase pens or any art-related materials, he always bought either an extra sketchpad or set of pens. Even if you were simply a figure to everyone else, he appreciated the bond you both developed.

Every night, he’d tell you about his day from the start. Normally, it consisted of a lot of schoolwork and coffee, some stories about his roommates too. Speaking of them, he’d insert a lot of humorous words about his entire group of friends, whom you learned their names too.

Mark, Jaemin, Renjun, Jisung, Chenle, and Donghyuck, each of them presented a different color in their group. Jeno, who’d admitted to being shy and quiet, grew out of his shell because of them. A friend of Jeno’s would automatically be a friend of yours, if only you were allowed to leave the museum or become a human.

Jeno learned more about your past explorations that never got documented because you no longer had an interest in jotting them down. They were adventures you’d kept to yourself, memories only close to you then would know. Except now, Jeno was another addition. You’re not the type to instantly open to people, though again, a sense of relief surrounded him every time you encounter each other. It grew gradually like a warm hug, softening your heart and breaking your walls.

The more he spent time with you, nothing feared Jeno the slightest. He’s always maintained himself intact, avoiding lines to be crossed and giving respect to those who deserve it. However, he began to question himself where exactly his feelings lie with you after Jaemin tried to set him up on a blind double date just so the best friend of his date wouldn’t feel left out.

He’s rarely one to get crushes on people, even when other girls in his college openly showed their affection towards him. Valentine’s Day or his birthday, several girls sent him chocolate or flowers. Jaemin and Renjun got sick of girls reaching out to them first so they could reach him. It’s not because he’s not the dating type, but because he’s so goal-oriented that unlike his roommates, he doesn’t have a slight clue about dating.

Though one-night stands while at a party and dating were completely different, he’d still say he had experience with girls. Plus having an older sister, he never took advantage of them. He’d rather tell them in person that the feelings weren’t mutual than ghosting them. He’s not like Jaemin anyways.

With that, he’s so lost when his heart beats twice as fast the second you’ve woken up from your posing slumber. He doesn’t comprehend how flustered he’d be when you highly insist to help him with his plate or how cute he finds it when you’re playing fetch with Mochi. On top of it, when you chose to sketch each other for one of your sketching sessions, he’d take a longer stare at your visage before he drew some strokes.

A lot of historical accounts mentioned how your beauty was the standard of the Victorian era, wherein you were the jewel of your neighborhood and numerous men wanted your hand. Women envied you, especially having high intelligence skills that were equivalent to a man. That time, that felt like a threat to most men. Though surprisingly, it turns out there were men who liked intelligent girls.

Jeno knew he liked you as a friend, though liking you past that he didn’t intend. Nor was it allowed because it’ll break one of the golden rules. Before he’d go beyond contemplating, he had to stop himself. This was so unlike him. The feelings will fleet away, he’d repeat to himself. Don’t waste a great friendship because of your silly emotions.

Individually, both of you swallowed these harboring feelings down your guts and simply kept your friendship status safe. Doing your typical activities or whatever else you could think of, none of you minded to change it whatsoever.

Unknown to you though, it was obvious to the other art pieces ones that you two practically passed off as young lovers. Although they know that pushing one towards the other went against the rules, Aphrodite begged to differ.

“Holding them back from expressing what they really feel just because of the law here is a tragedy. They should at least try, you know?”

On another typical night, Jeno invited you to the Theater Room for a movie marathon. After finding out that you’ve never seen any moving pictures, he wanted to be there to introduce it. Luck was on his side to not have plates or requirements due for the week and everyone was behaving themselves, so he started with rolling out short films from the 88mm projector. Having premade popcorn and drinks, the two of you shared roars of laughter and emotional tears.

Switching to the cd player for longer and clearer films, you’d opt to believe that you were born at the wrong time. With all these advancements, it came with a lot of new beliefs. One of them was allowing women to study and work. Then again, she was a pioneer according to historians. Without her, it wouldn’t help shape society as it is today.

Nonetheless, this movie Jeno played on the big screen was what he defined as “one of the classics”, 10 Things I Hate About You.

This outspoken character named Kat was presenting a poem to her class, trying to hold in her raw emotions towards Patrick, the boy who broke her heart. Too engaged, you didn’t notice how Jeno stretched his arms out so he could wrap one around your shoulder. Not that you were complaining, his warmth reassuring you safety.

“I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.” The way she attempted to keep her strong ground only reminded you of where you were weeks ago, especially once she excruciatingly broke down.

“I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” Only when you leaned back to the chair, you felt his arm. His thumb caressing your covered shoulder, you peeked him a little bit. His eyes fixated on the screen, absorbed in the acting and how Kat’s tears weren’t scripted as she stormed out of the classroom.

Not that you were her, but it sparked the past memory of how you merely disliked him because of his job. But as a person, not even close, not even once did you hate him. How blessed that he never judged you for it, staying patient all this time.

Right before he could look back at you, you moved your face back to resume your watching. Jeno definitely noticed what you did, though not sure as to why. Whatever it was, it wasn’t harmful.

Once the film ended, Jeno checked his watch for the time. 4 am, he wanted to do something else now instead of film viewing. You were on par with it, wanting to walk it out after being seated for hours. As you both cleaned up and bid the posters outside goodbye, the doors to the museum were locked unexpectedly. Impossible on Jeno’s half because he had the keys for every room, but he double-checked his bunch.

Alas, the keys for these doors specifically were missing. But there was no other way anyone could’ve gotten it, plus it’s not like the last person he talked to, which was Aphrodite, would need it.

Or did she?

Rather than putting any blame on each other, your only wish now was to return to your section before sunrise. You and he could just relax momentarily before yelling for help.

“Maybe we should watch another film first?”

“Alright, you choose while I return the rest.”

As Jeno inserted the cd of Cinema Paradiso inside, the background music of the opening played. He hummed the first notes, already feeling the love from this film. Another must-see classic as recommended by Renjun, he wanted to rewatch it with you.

Slowly returning each cd and film roll to their respective drawers, the melodious theme had you waltzing in the small space. Even beyond your life, classical music never gets old. Aging like fine wine, sounding spectacular as time passes because of people’s creativity.

Jeno gazed over your sudden movements, smiling uncontrollably at how immersed you were as you multi-tasked. However, you took a wrong turn by the desk and almost dropped a priceless film roll. But before you fully slipped and fell, a pair of strong arms caught you at the right time. Panting from the nerves, mostly when he was inches from your face. Never has he pressed his body this close to you to protect you, and never have you seen his captivating eyes this up close.

As enchanting as the background music of Ennio Morricone was, it only became noise once Jeno took ahold of the film roll on your hand and placing down on the desk. Taking another step closer, you were backed up by the edge. Not to mention how his height dignified his impact on you, your arms were still situated by your side with nowhere else to go.

That was until his finger elevated your chin so he could meet you on eye-to-eye level. His other hand gripping your waist, you became brave enough to place your hands by his broad shoulders. Licking your lips, you glanced at his lips quickly. But he noticed it, and as risky as this was, it was a leap of faith to take.

“May I kiss you?”

Always such a gentleman, even when he already knew how much you desired him through your returning affections. Calming your breath patterns by the speed of everything occurring, you came back to your senses. He’s the one who constantly told you not to forget your roots, so you were going to take this one.

You trust him, and he does too.

“Yes.”

Since the first film, some kind of tension increased the closer he moved or intimate his actions were towards you. You kept pushing it back in hopes not to ruin what you both have. But it only turned out to be mutual, especially how none of you held back as soon as his lips passionately clashed yours.

Tangling your arms around his neck, you stood on your tiptoes to press even closer to him. Feeling his lively heart pumping against your hollow chest, you bit his lower lip. Something you’ve secretly craved to do, he growled from the pleasure. He hoisted your waist to the desk, his impatient hands earnestly traveling all over your body. While your legs locked around his torso, your feisty nature leaned back so your entire body lied on the small desk.

Jeno was on top, placing one hand down to hold himself while the other squeezed your waist firmly. Even if you’re made of wax, you’re like an actual living woman at night. Everything about you becomes real until dawn. You emitted vulgar moans, giving him more access to your neck. Peppering a mix of soft to hard kisses, your hand teasingly snaked under his shirt. He really wasn’t joking when he bragged that he was quite ripped since he enjoyed sports and going to the gym, cupping a part of his toned abdomen.

“If you want something, all you have to do is ask.” He sluggishly sucked the area between your ear and neck, one of your weakest spots. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

The growing moistness in between your legs left a stain in your panties, trying to close your legs out of embarrassment. It’s been decades since you’ve been stimulated like this. However, Jeno beat you to it as he trailed the hand that was on your waist and lowering it right above your covered sex. He cupped it agonizingly slow, making you folding your leg from the pleasure. For a man who doesn’t date around, he knew exactly what he’s doing.

“I just kissed you, and you’re already this soaked. Can you handle me, baby?”

As the strong woman that you present yourself to be, it would selfishly take the right touch from the right man to weaken you. With his savage lips back on yours while your hands clutched on his shirt, he was simply waiting for a verbal answer, yet driving you completely mad. Everything was happening so fast, and here he was to please you in anywhere you seem fit.

You were deprived, and oh, you needed it more than ever.

However, seconds before you replied, there was loud rumbling from the main doors which stopped your devilish antics. As Jeno moved back from you to see the ruckus, you lifted yourself back up, pulling back your dress sleeves and flattening out the creases. The last thing you wanted was a trail of familiar red marks from the aggressive male, finding any reflective surfaces to check.

“I wouldn’t be that dumb to leave you hickies now, would I?” Jeno ended your worries as he placed his hands by your side again. His face leaned towards yours again, reliving the warmth in your cheeks. His lips were plumper, catching traces of your coral lipstick smudged there down to his jaw. He slotted himself again between your legs, grazing a hand on your waist and the other to your warm cheek. “The door’s unlocked now, and it’s 5 am. Do you want to clean up now?”

You playfully scoffed, aware that neither of you had plans to do that yet. Such a player while in the heat of the moment.

“Spare me 15 more minutes with you first.”

Hiding the romance you’ve both built failed without trying. Aphrodite spotted all the signs from your open physical affection and words of admiration, calling you two out in front of everyone without shame. She is the goddess of love, after all. You couldn’t fool her even if you tried.

Plus, she’s the one who locked the two of you up in the Theater Room that night. But neither of you know that.

“Sketch my ideal home?” Jeno bent down to the table, testing out his newly bought pens so they wouldn’t spill.

“Isn’t that why you decided to pursue Architecture in the first place? Come on now!” You pestered across him, opening your new sketchpad since your last one ran out of pages. As expected, Jeno bought you one when he went to the bookstore. As much as you insisted not to because he should use the money somewhere else, he did it anyway. He loved your works, encouraging you in any way he could.

When he was reminded of his humble beginnings of his passion for architecture by you, never had he envisioned exactly how his perfect home would be like. Settling down was so far beyond his mind, only focusing to graduate university then study for the licensure exams. However, he did miss drawing something for fun, not as a requirement. He also was the one who took charge of designing his dorm.

“Fine, only if you draw what your ideal home would’ve been if you never left London.”

Now as lovers, the only addition to your relationship were the public and private exchanges of affection. Deep conversations, film viewing, back and forth banter, you’re both still the same competitive duo everyone expected to be together. In public, the two of you held hands, hugged, kissed each other cheeks too when it felt right. Cleopatra’s face of fake nausea was priceless every time, while Princess Diana, Anne, and Katherine enjoyed it. It’s been years since they’ve seen this glow of adoration in you. Bit by bit, you’re going back to the old you. Except now, you’re a lot stronger.

Perhaps, this version of you proved wrong for the need for romance. Even if you made the choice not to settle down then, it would’ve been different if Jeno was in your universe then.

“Are you done there?” Jeno asked while you were finishing up your masterpiece. Life in London sounded fun when you were younger, having all these ideas on interior design and the like. An innocent time.

Instead of replying, you strode to his side and compared your pieces together. He pictured a two-story home, with a backyard and rooftop area. He definitely wanted to stay in the city as his whole life was based there. Although you preferred living in the countryside more for more freedom, you gave it a shot by pinpointing every detail of a wealthy typical Victorian-era home you liked. You desired a spacious lobby with a grand staircase in the middle, a crystal chandelier there too. The living room would have a small library and a grand piano, where wide doors leading to the grasslands were beside it.

Considering you two lived from different times, in a way your ideal homes were similar. Somewhere private, surrounded by nature and minimal furniture, you’re curious as to how it would look if the two of you fused them together. A mix of old and new, will it look pretty?

“What will look pretty?” Jeno questioned your random thought, looking back and forth at your sketches. “You know who’s pretty though?”

“If you say what I think you’re going to say, I’m lea-”

“You.”

Jeno has gotten flirtier since that night, always finding the right opportunity to flatter you. Although you denied them out of embarrassment, the butterflies in your stomach can’t lie to you.

You’re so smitten, and so was he.

Jeno’s always one to follow the rules, but so far, he’s been breaking some of them already.

Just last night, he gave Renjun access to the lively museum because he needed more research regarding you. Initially, he practically interviewed Jeno for every piece of information he gathered because he used to be so deep in the books to study everything about you. Now in the past, Renjun still couldn’t forget how Jeno drunkenly admitted how crazy he was going to be over you and your coldness whilst sobering up in the dorm.

He didn’t understand one bit by that, especially when you’re technically dead. But by the sight of the first piece Renjun saw alive, which was Zeus, he almost passed out. Piece by piece, he viewed these artworks come to life from his fresh eyes. Right before he could’ve screamed when Athena shot a lightbulb in their exhibit, you happily called out Jeno’s name.

Renjun froze on the spot upon seeing your wax figure come to life. He’s browsed through this museum numerously due to the new exhibits, but lately, he checked your section out to find any tiny details that were linked to your life. Aside from the sketchpad, compass, and hairpins, he wanted to know if there was more to your life as an explorer.

As human interactions except the night guard weren’t allowed, Renjun needed help for his project in Women Studies. Just like Jeno’s assignment, you aided him. Fruitfully answering every question he gave you, Athena popped out of nowhere to inspect Jeno.

“I see you’re breaking another rule.”

“I’m sorry, Athena. He was desperate, and it would be selfish of me to let him fail.”

“This is the last one I’ll let slide, alright?” Athena huffed, not impressed by the reckless behavior Jeno acquired over time. She saw this coming, but for a change, she couldn’t punish him. He was a young adult, still learning more about life. Only will she step in if things turn for the worst. “I can’t believe I’ve gained a soft spot for you.”

Jeno laughed, hugging the figure like his older sister. “You love me though!”

Glad to say, Renjun aced his project and kept his word of not telling anyone about the happenings in Jeno’s job. Jeno even made a makeshift non-disclosure contract so Renjun wouldn’t spill the slightest details.

Lately, so much has been happening in the museum that having alone time with each other was rare. And when you did, the two of you made sure to maximize it and make every intimate moment count. From each touch, each longing kiss, each moan, and groan, never were you left hanging whether you’re at the Theater Room, Jeno’s office, or the Foreign Art Room.

The only time the two of you went beyond the boundaries was at the indoor garden. Jeno managed to get the key to it, lighting up some candles before you invited you inside. Thanks to the magic of the Greek gods, the cameras were bewitched to display fake imageries when security checks in the morning after.

Upon your deep conversations, you’ve mentioned once or twice about the indoor garden. It was the latest addition of the museum, opening in the early 2000s. Because it was a sacred place, no art piece was ever allowed inside.

Yet again, Jeno challenged the rules again when he invited you inside. A few minutes before, he set up some lights along the hallway of the garden, where he placed a blanket, a picnic basket, and his laptop right at the end of it. The best place to view everything, he just knew you’d love it.

He was undoubtedly right once you gasped at such a pretty sight. Seeing the silhouettes of various flowers and plants together with the night sky with all the stars sparkling, it was like you’re attending another ball with your sisters, who were looking for suitors then.

Once Jeno leisurely led you until the end, he brought out all the delicacies from the basket. One of them was this Italian savory dish of dough with toppings such as cheese and pepperoni, or pizza as they named it. The next ones were fresh strawberries and melted chocolate, followed by grape juice.

“I’d drink actual alcohol with you again, only if I didn’t get shitfaced and do my job properly.”

“Point taken. Besides, this is close enough. So pour me a drink please.”

Perhaps this was the closest to a date Jeno could ever ask you out to. With the restrictions and being constrained with time, he brainstormed all sorts of ways to bring the outside world to you. From simply letting you wander around this fascinating room, he unleashed the inner romantic in him. None of his friends would’ve thought since they never asked him about it, so he kept it to himself only. Finally, he’s satisfied with what he prepared. After eating, the two of you would watch more films before the sun rose again.

You’re just the right person for him at the moment he can act that way.

After your quiet stroll and sitting back down, Jeno surprisingly handed you a tiny box.

“A gift?”

“Open it.” He sipped on his juice, paying attention to your actions. Gently untying the box, the amazement in your eyes couldn’t fathom such a lovely present. No words were required to verify that Jeno outdid himself again, just your facial expression alone is enough.

When Jeno said that he pays attention to the tiny details, he doesn’t bluff. Throughout your growing relationship, you’ve cited how you wanted another special flower in your life. Just because you couldn’t view lavender roses the same way ever again, it didn’t mean you wanted to kick them out of your life. Flowers were one of nature’s beautiful creations, so you’re wishing to find the love you once had for lavender roses in other ones.

Thus, you came across what you thought held the highest form of meaning: red roses. Despite its thorns, it’s still a marvelous flower. Innocently, you told him that just because of the memory of your father giving them to your mother on her birthday yearly.

Red roses represented true love and romance, a discreet message only those eager would know.

Jeno was one of them, which was why he reserved this gift for this very moment. It was a necklace he found through a college fair recently, a subtle red rose pendant in the center. Since he couldn’t give you huge gifts, he settled for something light. Something none of the guards or the director wouldn’t pinpoint out when they do their inspections.

“Do you like it?”

Not one utter from your mouth since you’re so hypnotized, your lips quirked up in a charming smile. “Is that even a question? This is astonishing, Jeno.”

After you attempted to put it around your neck, Jeno sighed and stepped in to help you out. “Turn around, (Y/N). Let me.”

The tension gradually heightened once you held your hair up so Jeno accessibly viewed your clean neck. Clasping the lock, it took all his might to hold himself back from you. Even from behind, your silhouette was attractive to him. The lights he set up weren’t helping the slightest of what he’s thinking to do with you.

“Done.” He breathily whispered in your ear.

**

If he thought he was the only one feeling something powerful, he’d be more than wrong. The lingering sensation of his slim fingers gracing your décolletage area unhinged another kind of want, the one you’ve only imagined in your mind when you were needy and alone. It shouldn’t be a sin unless you’re with the person you’ve fallen for, right?

Facing him again, the eye contact didn’t last long when you were the first one to strike a move. Jeno kissed back right away, his hands pulling you closer by your waist. Whatever sultry music Jeno played, it gave you the perfect momentum to grind on his lap. He groaned against kisses, adding his tongue. His thumbs sensually rubbed your hipbones, one of your hands toying around with his hair while the other one balled up his shirt by the chest. None of you cared if anyone caught you.

The last time you’ve been this aggressive was at the Theater Room, which eventually increased the hidden lust you’ve had towards each other. Taking things slowly at first, it’s about time to delve in for more. The mood was already set from the start, even if Jeno didn’t plan this to happen here. But being the prepared man he is, he did have a condom in his back pocket.

Your fingers trailed from his neck until his crotch. He was hard, sensing how suffocated he must be. But he kept himself in control. Locking eye contact, you sweetly spoke.

“Grant my second wish, Jeno.” That same hand of yours held one of his, planting it in your breast. “Make love to me.”

Giving the go-signal, he crashed his lips on yours while stripping you off your dress. Carefully, he turned you around to untie your tight corset. Once it fell, your neck leaned sideways as his lips attacked it madly. Your breaths were tremulous, placing both his hands on your freed breasts to knead with. His touch felt like fire on your skin, yet you couldn’t stop.

“Jeno,” Obscene moans from your lips choked out. You desired more, shifting back to face him again to attack his lips. Slowly feeling one of his hands laying you down, you spread your legs with ease just for him. He parted after your head landed on the cushion to unbutton himself. The way your mouth dropped to selfishly stare at his bare body, flexing them before getting back into position. He was fit and toned just as Cleopatra predicted.

As much as Jeno knew how wild your thoughts were getting, he was more taken aback by your perky chest.

“Fuck, you are divine.” He sucked one nipple as his fingers ventured to slip your panties down. So much was going on, you didn’t know which stimulated you more. You tried to close your legs around his hand, but he slapped your inner thigh to stop you.

The cool breeze shivered you, especially from your core. Jeno’s fingers adventurously grazed from your hip area to your lower lips. He teasingly rubbed it up and down in your essence, his index finger settling it right at your needy clit. Another moan escaped your lips, an opportunity for Jeno to slide his tongue in your mouth. Enjoying the moment, his fingers dipped inside you. A gasp broke your kiss, making him giggle in your ear.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, angel. The things I want to do with you.”

Sliding them back and forth, curling it even, you squirmed for more. Dropping himself to meet your core, Jeno placed your legs on his shoulder. Pushing you closer, his steamy breath felt like friction. Your hips grinded against it, so he gripped on them so you stay put.

“Angel,” He chuckled darkly, his crotch tightening at how powerless you looked. “You’re so pretty.”

You were drenched from arousal. But to Jeno, you were glowing under the lights. He wanted to take his time to admire what he had done to you. His independent girl, only weak for him.

His fingers unfolded in your lower lips, diving in to your orbit. You could hardly speak from his skilled mouth, especially his tongue savagely lapping your clit in numerous paces. You’ve only daydreamed about what it could do aside from kissing, and it exceeded your expectations. By the heated sensation that had the heels of your feet digging his back deeply, you affirmed to have seen more stars than the night sky above you.

Your back arched uncontrollably while his hands grasped your hips to stay in place, the tears in your eyes formulating while tugging on his hair. Your thighs clenched around his face, but his broad shoulders widened it to taste more of you. No use of pulling away when his grip on you was tight, so you could only cry out from the pleasure.

“Fuck!”

The ringing sounds in your off were going off, your throat drying up from moaning once another orgasm was about to hit. Once the knot in you snapped, nothing could hold back your screams of pleasure whilst panting for air. Sensitive as he licked every remaining essence he caused, he smirked as he got up to unbuckle his jeans.

Oh, boy. He got quite a package behind his boxers.

Even while you were overly sensitive, you had to grasp it in your hands. He was yours, and you were his.

The way you clenched around his protected length, pausing to readjust yourself to the feeling. The foreplay deemed helpful, though the girth of him overwhelmed you. He stretched you out so good.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” The stunned face you made was expected, still feeling worried that it may be too much.

Biting your lip, you moaned once everything felt bearable. “You can move, Jeno.”

None of you could track exactly how many rounds you went through. Even in the semi-public area, it didn’t hinder either of you. There’s that thrill, and surprisingly enough, you both shared the liking of it. Always switching the positions, you decided to call it quits after another sloppy round in missionary. Something seeing Jeno on top, fully submitting yourself to him, made you feel calm to be vulnerable. It’s really the trust you’ve established from the start, making you rely on humans again once you’ve let the past be.

Jeno brought out another blanket, initially meant for cuddling. It was still applicable though, curling your body into a spoon towards his racing chest. Music was no longer noise, the intimacy creeping back instead of lust this time. The afterglow of Jeno, sweaty and knackered as his legs sprawled under the sheet, was a sight for sore eyes. He’s always been handsome while on duty, but post-sex gave him an extra boost.

Plus there’s pride from the red marks courtesy of you on his chest, grazing over it softly.

Jeno chuckled softly at your smooth fingers, lifting them up to kiss them tenderly before kissing your lips again. Only humans were capable of and to love, but you’re some kind of an exception. Regardless of the magic from the plate, you’d be able to love too if it weren’t for your background.

There’s so much love Jeno wanted to offer you, even if he hasn’t said it out loud yet.

Perhaps one reason was because time was beginning to tick. Finals were a few weeks away, then the one-month long semestral break until a new semester kicks off. Time really flew by, and his bank account and heart expanded too. Enjoying the now was all he could think of doing, but those uncertainties bothered him.

The biggest would be where you and he would stand when his job ended.

Jeno was too absorbed in his internal debate, as portrayed by his eyes staring off in space and running his hand in his hair repeatedly. Something was disturbing him, and you’re concerned as to what it was.

“Jeno,” Around his arm, you tapped his chest to get him out of it. “What’s going on in your head?”

Jeno approached every obstacle he faces straightforwardly, not wanting to let him hold back. Rarely did he keep secrets, especially from you. Instead of hiding away, he voiced it out.

“(Y/N), will we work out?”

“What do you mean, Jeno?”

You’re so occupied in the present that thinking of the future was never in your field. Like him, you’re just enjoying being in the moment. Though after tonight, it’s making you wonder if there’s a future.

“Well,” He placed his hand on top of yours, affectionately observing you. “Times flies faster when you’re having fun, and well, the semester is ending.”

His last words crushed a part of your heart, remembering his initial plan. None of you expected your friendship to bloom into what it is now, but life was just full of surprises without a schedule. At the same time, none of you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It may have been a few months since you two committed to each other, but the spark was still strong. It wasn’t like a summer romance kind of feeling. Time was not a determinant of love either, which you were certain of it with Jeno. A lot more than Junmyeon.

It should’ve frightened you when you realized your love for Jeno, but it didn’t. Even if you didn’t age physically, your mindset did. You’ve learned to forgive your younger self, and through Jeno, you let your guard down completely. From that, you let love in. Platonic to your fellow art pieces, and all of the above to Jeno.

Throughout your relationship, you regained all confidence in yourself and everything you set your mind to.

“I wouldn’t want to worry too much about it if I were you.” Your body flipped to lie on your stomach, resting your head on your palm.

“Why shouldn’t I, angel?”

Gazing back at him, you left a velvety kiss on his lips to rest his thoughts. His hand wrapped your neck, deepening it. But you pulled away with a giggle, all too knowing of his secret intentions as his cock began to harden again. His eyes narrowed down and his lower lip stuck out at your attempt of being a tease.

But enough about sex, you wanted to address a point.

Lee Jeno was going to be the biggest risk you wanted to take and fight for, and no one should try to stop you.

“I’ll ask Circe for a potion. For me, for you, for us.”

If it weren’t for insistent questioning towards every art piece, who kept their mouths shut, only Circe herself banished him from his suffering. Her series of potions varied, and the one you requested years ago which you threw out was capable of turning any art piece into a living human. No potion of Circe ever failed, so you entrusted your life for the day you do drink it.

“Are you sure, angel?”

Jeno knew about that one specifically, and as great to hear that you never threw it out, he never put pressure on you. He wanted you to do whatever felt right, even if deep down, he wished you’d use it. He was only worried about how the flow of the entire museum would be disrupted.

Typical Jeno always looking out for you, but you saw right through his concern. Here you were, caressing his check as reassurance. With an honest smile,

“I’ve never been more certain with anything in my life here until you came, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno opened up more to his life outside the museum, telling all sorts of experiences not just his days as a university student. From his childhood, his family, his travels, heck you even want to meet his friends at this point!

Newly, he shared with you how the sunrise and sunset looked like in Seoul with much vivacity. It’s a luxury as a human to witness as day breaks and ends, so you could imagine by yourself how it would look like. Sure, you had drawings and all, but that was from the real (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

This version of you wanted to live more; that’s your greed now.

“You’ve never touched snow too, right?” Jeno, who had his arm wrapped around you, silently watched the first batch of snow from inside.

“Yup, that’s the thing when you’re imprisoned in this place.” You sulked by his side, earning a chuckle from him who pulled you in closer.

“Don’t tell me now that you despise this place.”

“I don’t, but it hinders me to experience new things. The whole pattern of being awake at night by a plate gets tiring, Jeno.”

All Jeno would do when you’re frustrated was placing your head on his shoulder, listening as you talk.

“I know, angel. But it won’t be long until you leave this place with me, right?”

“You know it!” You interlocked your hands with him, eyes trained at every falling snowflake.

Sometimes, moments in silence with Jeno were all you needed for the night. Being within each other’s presence, focusing or admiring something from afar, it was all the peace you’ve needed from the bustling art pieces.

This week was the last of the semester, and Jeno’s off duty for tonight to focus on his exams. You’ll see him tomorrow night, which was his last shift ever, and also yours too.

Perhaps the biggest milestone you’re committing to without any regrets.

However, it took an unnecessary conversation you accidentally eavesdropped on to rock your decision.

You needed more ink after running out mid-way of sketching the sculptures as a secret parting gift. Before you could take a single step inside your exhibit room, a series of voices were full-on arguing. Booming back and forth, you peeped your ear out whilst hiding against the door.

“Athena, how dare you did to her?! She’s done so well from moving on from it, falling in love even! And now you’re telling me this?!” The distinct voice of Princess Diana, who spoke sweetly most of the time, boomed towards the Greek god. “You’re heartless.”

“I did what I had to do for the sake of this place, Diana!” Athena raised her voice, the lightning in her hands holding back from lashing out. She hated it when anyone argued with her, especially when she does things according to what she believed was necessary. Out of everyone, she had more leadership. “She had to know that her place is here as a wax figure, not outside. Talking Junmyeon out of it was for the best, plus it’s ideal when he drank the potion of memory loss from Circe.”

“But it tore her apart when he left her, and it’s going to tear her again if you do the same with Jeno.”

“How else are you going to approach the situation then, Diana? Those two have broken the highest golden rule, so they need to wake up.”

Right when she celebrated within herself for healing, hearing the unbearable revelation behind the past devastated you. This whole time, she internally blamed herself for being ageless and lashed out at others. The scary past barged back in, and you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Somewhere in the corner, you wept without a trace. You could care less about Athena’s opinions, but you found yourself agreeing to some of her words. You had a role to fulfill, and leaving that behind would be selfish and it could make the museum go topsy-turvy. As painful for Junmyeon to leave you, it was because the truth hurts. Nothing could change it, even if Circe could be your solution because it’ll leave a lot of questions. You didn’t want Jeno to be seen as a suspect.

Oh, Jeno.

There’s nothing wrong with falling in love either, you didn’t intend it to happen. But it becomes unfair when it compromises with your purpose, and that’s not how you are. You’ll always remember Jeno as your biggest risk, though it’s time to end things. Treacherous as it was to accept for you, risk-takers have boundaries too.

Fast forward, on the night of Jeno’s last shift, you’ve cherished every second with him. Playing around, chatting with other art pieces, kissing in private, you made it count. Before dawn broke, that’s where you chose to come clean by the garden, your sacred place. Not even your self-reassurance could prepare you to witness the hurt and confusion Jeno felt.

“You’re a mortal, and you still get to choose your path. Mine is already predetermined here as a wax copy of a historical figure.” You advised as you held both his hands, your voice shaking at the reality.

A few days ago, you were beaming with exhilaration at a new journey but now you’ve permanently backed out. Jeno couldn’t comprehend, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t. A life without you by his side would be empty and dull. “Even so, there are things about you that the original person didn’t have.”

Arguing with him wasn’t your favorite, and it’ll leave the two of you in a bad mood. But there is no way to negotiate this; you’ve already made up your mind. “We must end this, Jeno. You need someone who can grow old with you, and I can’t be that person for you.”

“But we can make it work!” His hands gripped on your slumped shoulders, whilst your face avoiding his to spare yourself from the heartache. “There’s still Circe.”

“I know, but recently, I found out that she’s an indirect cause of my misery.” Pulling away from his touch, you belted with frustration. “I cannot do this anymore, Jeno.”

You’ve always fought for whatever you wanted in life, and Jeno knew he was one of them if it weren’t for you telling him that. So he did the same, thinking of ways to make you feel whole. Now, he couldn’t tolerate the sudden crumbling of his heart from your outburst, and all he wanted to know was why you felt this way. How could he help you?

You don’t keep secrets from Jeno, but the truth behind your harsh actions cannot be revealed for the sake of the museum. Plus, you didn’t want him to despise this place he admired. Causing him pain wasn’t on your list, but keeping him safe was. It may be shown differently and he may not understand it now, but over time, he will.

“Jeno, you’ll find someone better out there. Someone with their whole life ahead of them, who’ll love you for everything that makes you who you are.” Repetitive punches in your guts urged you to barf at your half-lie, but you held it in.

“Why are you pushing me away? What happened to taking risks, (Y/N)?” Jeno interrogated, taking your hands in his hands again. They unconventionally quivered, like his lips. Jeno has never cried in front of anyone, not even when he was younger. Though for you, he just might. “Am I not worth it for you?”

Dear heavens, he was wrong. You internally screamed that, but you can’t let your selfishness seize the night. As Athena said, you had to wake up from your dream. “Committing to you was my biggest risk of them all, Jeno. Everything else that went along with it, I don’t regret it one bit. But time’s really up for us, and we must resume our normal duties.”

“I can’t lose you, (Y/N).”

“You never will, Jeno.”

He crouched lower to meet your height, his finger moving your head so you’d look at him back. Weakly enough, you did. “I want you to be a part of my normal life, angel.”

“I’ll always be here, you know. I’ll be standing in my usual spot upstairs, and you can drop by whenever you can.” You pressed your lips, lifting your head to avoid incoming tears. Meanwhile, he began shedding a few. You’ve hurt him big time, and you’ll never forgive yourself for this. “I still have one wish, right?”

Jeno’s sorrow was beyond his capacity, leaning his forehead against yours to kiss it. No matter what he could say or do, he already knew it won’t be effective. You’re affirmative in your choices, yet he still wanted to challenge it. All he wanted to know was why you’re doing this.

“Let me walk you one last time to your section.”

The black night sky had remnants of blue, motioning that dawn was approaching. Other figures gave their goodbyes to Jeno earlier, cleaning up their areas before they pose. Though none of them anticipated such a cold atmosphere between you two, they could only spy on what was bound to happen.

“My last wish is for you to let me go, Jeno.” You avowed, blinking your eyes with faux positivity. Your hands patted his blazer so it wouldn’t crease. “I already have a role to fulfill here, and you’re on the way to yours, future architect.”

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Only tonight did he muster his courage to finally admit it to you after giving himself more time to analyze it. Timing was always crucial, and the badness of it showed.

Deep in your heart, you resonated the feeling. But it’ll make things more complicated, and it was the final thing you’ve wanted to occur. Someone had to be the strong one, and now, it should be you. With one more compassionate kiss on his lips, you stepped inside your section and readied your position.

“Goodbye, Lee Jeno.”

The sunshine brightened the room, and you’ve frozen to slumber again.

All Jeno could do was drop on his knees, sobbing over your rash actions. Unknown to him, a single tear left your eye as you posed.

Regardless of what status you were in, the pain of it all remained.

Jeno spent most of his semestral break with his friends to travel or whatnot, trying to forget it all. Even if he aced all his finals, his efforts felt like nothing if he never had you by his side to celebrate.

The sting over his short-lived romance with you never diminished the slightest, no one whom he could express his pain about it to especially when Renjun drank the memory wipe potion that Athena initially left for Jeno by his desk.

Forget it all, and live a peaceful life. You have so much potential, my mentee.

- Athena

Perhaps this was the same thing Junmyeon drank all those years ago, but unlike him, he didn’t have the guts to. He still wanted another chance.

So every day since the new semester began, he spent every afternoon break at your section. He’ll be seated by the bench, doing his assignments and talking about his day while sometimes stealing a glance of your figure. Some habits don’t change.

He never got sick of the same smile you exemplified, falling even more for you. He’ll often wonder what you’ve been up to.

What are your new sketches?

Are you taking care of Mochi well?

Have you apologized to Sanghoon yet?

Speaking of him, he surprisingly scooted over to Jeno’s side. This was the first time Jeno met the man, and politely enough greeted him. Sanghoon interviewed the boy, asking all sorts of questions that Jeno had every answer to. The biggest change that Sanghoon noticed since he left was your personality. You no longer bite, but treat everyone kindly without bias. You’re always active to help him out in cleaning the lobby, and you don’t go easily defensive.

Once he found out that Jeno was the reason for that, he was overjoyed at the start and wanted to meet him some way. You were a tough cookie, but now you relaxed. That was all that mattered to him, hoping to know more about him from you. That was until Diana stepped in and told him everything that happened. Mostly, the bad.

Playfulness eventually bore love. The last time you fell in love was in the 80s and Junmyeon pushed you away, he recalled. This time, you’re pushing Jeno away because you simply agreed with Athena’s points.

This wasn’t right, but it wasn’t his place to interfere.

But then again, he finally caught Jeno for the first time today and this time, he was open to hearing his side of the story. Lessen his misery too.

“No matter how stubborn she is, she loves you.” He advised him, bringing out one of your full sketchbooks. As Jeno opened it, the majority of the portraits were him. Sleeping, smiling, laughing, you drew him from every minor detail you could spot like the mole near his eye and his crescent eyes.

A handsome face I would never get sick until the end of time. Someone I want to wake up to every day in the morning if it weren’t for that plate.

- (Y/N)

Towards the end, a sketch of a house unfolded. The interior was a fusion of modernity and old royal design due to its white walls, wide space, and the placing of less furniture, plus an open backyard. There’s another tiny comment on the side from you.

I was right. Joining our varying designs together is pretty. Maybe Jeno and I could live in a house like this one day.

- (Y/N)

If you loved him so much, why did you let him go then when you had all these plans with him? Even if he tried to understand, he just didn’t.

“Don’t give up just yet when she told you to.”

“Are you just saying this or something?”

“Well, Princess Diana passed this message on but after everything, I believe that she’s right.” Sanghoon gave his opinion, but Jeno was reluctant to accept it.

“I never got a proper explanation why she suddenly changed her mind, Sanghoon.” He ranted, raking his hand through his hair from puzzlement. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sanghoon pitied him, having the upper hand and questioning himself whether to reveal the truth. However, since this boy took the job, he’s succumbed to secrecy. Without any transparency, it could drive someone mad. He’s too young for that, so Sanghoon breathed in defeat and placed his hand on Jeno’s shoulder.

“Promise me you won’t be mad when I tell you because I was when I found out; almost screamed even.”

Jeno nodded, listening to whatever Sanghoon had to say.

Of all people, he never would’ve expected Athena to do such a brash thing. Someone he respected and trusted, only to betray him by doing something she believed was good for all. Except it wasn’t, and it ended up hurting you all these years. The woman he loved, now he’s a clearer understanding of why you did what you did. Yet, it can’t fix his excruciation.

Heartbroken was an understatement; he had no one to rely on. With Sanghoon, he finally had a proper breakdown. The older man could only comfort his quietly, picturing him like one of his sons going through a hard time in school. But if it involves the heart, it’ll take more time to recover.

“You’re always the one adjusting, Jeno. But I think this time, you’re the one who needs space.”

A Year and a Half Later

“Jeno Lee!!!” Jaemin roughly wallowed his best friend in a hug when he arrived in their dorm room for the first time in a long time. “You dyed your hair blonde again!”

Renjun, who was behind the two of them, only rolled his eyes as he helped carry Jeno’s bags. “God damn it, Jaemin! You’re supposed to be helping me first!”

“I know, but give me a few seconds! I’m just happy our group is back together!”

Jeno laughed at his friends’ annoying yet silly dynamics, giddy to be back home. For a year, Jeno spent his 3rd year of university in Rome, Italy after one of his professors brought up to him about a scholarship program there for his course. At the time where he needed a change of scenery, he sent his application form and got interviewed.

Acing it, he had the opportunity to fly across the world to study and travel. His English skills surely improved, even picking up Italian words along the way due to a required class for it. He studied the history of different locations and how they were built.

He also went on field trips almost every day if it weren’t for the Italian students assigned to tour him around, academic and non-academic. Nights he spent on drinking wine on the rooftop of his dorm with them, screaming his complaints in the world with them.

It didn’t hit him that his stay was reaching its end until he submitted his final plate. His goodbye party didn’t even feel like one, but a see you later in the next few years after he becomes a licensed architect with money. His goal of it felt more realistic, motivating him to excel in his remaining years in university.

After unpacking half of his things, he was reminded of an email from one of the head professors, who requested another copy of his confidential documents from the Italian university he went to as soon as he’s back on campus.

He raced to the department with a folder of them and luckily encountered the said professor. Handing it to him, this professor questioned how he was and what experiences he gained from the trip. With excitement, Jeno spoke all sorts of tales from his adventures, highlighting how determined he was now to be an architect.

“That’s great to hear, Jeno!” He celebrated, checking on his watch, and widened his eyes. Frantic at his colliding schedules, he asked Jeno for a favor. It turned out that at the same time as his emergency meeting, he’s supposed to tour the new transferee student around campus.

“Only if you have time, Jeno! I could always ask another student, plus you just came back and need rest.”

“It’s not like I left for a decade, sir. No worries, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, bless your soul.” He put his hands together in prayer position, bowing back and forth with gratitude. “Wait, she’s right outside! Go ahead and introduce yourself.”

Jeno nodded, exiting right through the department doors. This girl had her back turned, inspecting her surroundings. She wore a black and white tweed blazer that matched with her skirt, black high heeled boots, and a black handbag. She must be a foreigner, Jeno thought.

“Excuse me, are you the transferee in the department of Architecture?”

Jeno didn’t brace himself for the surprise he’d face once this girl reacted to him calling her out. Her face was one he could never forget, no matter how many times he told himself to. The same face he convinced his heart to stop beating for, yet it lied.

This radiant face was none other than yours.

Jeno almost dropped his phone. He tried his best to hold on to your promise, but he failed. It was the main reason he studied abroad; to forget and focus on his career path. So the least thing he could’ve done was to study hard for his dream career.

Just a glimpse of you projected back every single memory you’ve had together. Beautiful yet heart-wrenching, he kept his emotions to himself.

You even wore the rose necklace he got you. Could it be?

“It’s been a while, Lee Jeno.” You took the metaphorical scissors to cut the tension, trying to contain the crushing feelings. The faculty center was a public place, yet it’s like the two of you were on the main stage.

“Do you remember me?” Astounded, you nodded. Every single detail.

Jeno could’ve ran away, but didn’t. He could’ve left you hanging, but didn’t. He can no longer count how many times you’ve appeared in his dreams, only to be disappointed when morning comes to not have you in his arms. He took one step closer, taking his time.

“How do you know me?”

“You’re the boy whom I helped with his assignment, argued with me over Romeo and Juliet,” You mimicked his move, making you one step nearer to him. “And most of all, the boy I once gave my entire heart to.”

Another step, leaving a few inches between the two of you. His heart palpitated without caffeine. What if he was napping in his dorm again? It was all surreal. “Is it really you, (Y/N)?”

Hearing your name from his lips lowered your guard, you pleased him with a hopeful grin. “I’d be dust by now if I didn’t drink Circe’s potion, right?”

That’s where Jeno unchained himself from his emotions. He engulfed in a warm hug, one that has no plans to let go when his chin planted on your shoulder. You returned the gesture, dropping all your worries away along with your bag and papers as your arms snaked through his neck.

You knew you had to part ways for a while after everything, though you were unsure how he’d feel about it. You recalled every time he visited you after his job ended up until his intense chat with Sanghoon, where he bawled his heart out. You couldn’t take it anymore after trying to stay strong, crying as soon as you woke up that night.

All your fellow figures could do was soothe you down like before to the best of their abilities, yet this time, it was unsuccessful. You’re filled with misery, realizing later how much of a big mistake you’ve made.

You’ve isolated yourself again for a while, but less rudeness and more silence. It was until Circe visited you. She doesn’t like getting involved with drama, though now was different. She, alongside Hera and Aphrodite, couldn’t withstand you tolerating the heartbreak again. So they went behind Athena’s back on this one time and created a potion together just for you. But with a compromise.

“This potion can turn you into a human. However, there’s only a 10% chance you’ll regain all your memories from this place.”

“So I’ll forget everyone and him?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” You’re about to shoo her away, not in the mood to do something drastic as that. But Circe grabbed your arm again. “I strongly believe that if you and he meant to be, then there will come a time these past memories will suddenly surge at you.”

“Must I need to forget to live properly?”

You’re stubborn, and Circe expected it. “You’ve broken so many golden rules, (Y/N), so it must be done. I’ve gone against Athena for this potion, and rarely have I done that. So rather than wallowing up in misery, you should focus on yourself. Do what makes you happy because this place is trapping you from every great thing out there.”

Those were the word that the actual (Y/N) (Y/L/N) lived by, nevertheless, you’re unique from her. You built a separate identity from her. “But Jeno-”

“At the right time, (Y/N). Pull yourself together and do all the things you’ve dreamt of before he came into the picture. I just know he loves you that much, and that he will wait for you.”

That same night, you gathered all your senses and drank it. The transition was fast as lightning speed, and behold, you were like a new person. You’re back in London, with a family that closely resembled your former one; only 3 older siblings, making you the youngest. You also had a new set of memories, from childhood until your adult years.

From (Y/N) (Y/L/N), you became (Y/N) Edwards.

It took one drunken night out with your university friends for the unlikely surge of old memories to speedily hit through your intoxicated state. Way beyond a dream, you’ve dropped your shot glass and broke down in the bathroom of your dorm room. You left something unaccomplished, and you had to do something before it’s too late.

Thus, you rushed to Seoul thanks to your parents’ support as they agreed that exploring outside your home country was a great experience. The only excuse you gave to your friends for the sudden transfer was you finding a new calling.

Sure, studying abroad was an exciting thing but you’re more determined to reunite with him. Even if this encounter was unforeseen, it was bound to happen one day. It so turned out that you had the same major in your former university and this new one.

Head to toe, you remembered everything.

“I’m so sorry I took so long.” You cradled your head on his chest, unaware of how your new life left Jeno so troubled.

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Jeno tightened his grip, scared of releasing you again. Those two years felt like a breath of fresh air and a punch in the gut. “I tried to live up to your last wish, but I really can’t.”

“I want to take that wish back, Jeno. I wasn’t thinking right and only ended putting you through so much.”

“Oh, angel. I slowly understood why you did it.” Before he got too fragile, he softened his grip on you and showed his face again to you. He wanted a better look at his pretty girl, his fingers brushing strands of your hair behind your ear. Heart-fluttering, you bit your bottom lip. “What would you want to wish for instead?”

“Instead of you letting me go, I wish you could take me back and love me again. I can’t undo the past, but I’d still like to think I’ve tried my best.” That was the only wish you could ever think of. As huge as it was, it was something he may not accept. Yet you gave it a go, risking it all. “I don’t deserve you at all, Jeno.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N).” One of his hands grabbed yours, putting it on his cheek. Cupping it, “I’ve never stopped loving you, you know.”

Oh, love. An all-too familiar emotion that either makes or breaks you. Of all the times you could’ve said those words, you held back, especially that wretched night you two broke it off. Although you showed it, being able to say it to someone felt more empowering.

This was finally the chance you’ve unconsciously waited for.

“I’m stupid for not saying this sooner.”

“What is it?”

With intimate eye contact, you drowned in the comfort of his brown orbs. You trusted him then, and you trusted him now. “I love you, Lee Jeno.”

Secretly, Jeno anticipated for the day you’d say those meaningful 3 words. Just like you, he showed more affection through actions than words. He only admitted when he lost you, and never would he do the same mistake again. If he felt that the love was strongly present, he will say it aloud.

“I love you still, (Y/N).” His arm around your waist tugged you in further. “I loved you as (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I will continue to love you as (Y/N) Edwards.”

He peeked on your ID earlier, but regardless, he stood by his truth. You’re still the same (Y/N).

Finally, he closed the limited space between your lips. The memories of your past romance replayed in sync of every touching kiss, popping one leg up like in the movies. The Princess Diaries, specifically. Like in the museum from your unbearable parting, one warm tear freed itself down your cheek.

The sweetness of being reunited with you again beat the torturous wait of Jeno. Time really made your hearts grow fonder. As everyone said, if the love between two people is real, then it’ll find its way back to each other.

The world must be on your side too because no professor called you two out on your public display of affection. Jeno pecked your lips one time before stepping away, picking up the things you dropped.

“Now come on, I have to tour you around as instructed.”

You stomped on your feet, rolling your eyes from being left hanging. He’s still the same tease from before. “After that kiss though, I would’ve thought we could reschedule it.”

“No can do, Edwards.” Passing over your things, he wrapped one arm around you as he escorted you out of the building. The university was huge, with more buildings and green fields surrounded everywhere. “Left or right? There are a lot of places you missed out on all those years.”

“Point taken. Then you lead the way, my love.”

[minniepetals]

if the reapers ever love someone else, like if they ever get a significant other or just find someone to love romantically, how would that affect the way they love y/n? or would their love for y/n be affected at all? like for example choosing between that potential/current lover and y/n. you've made it clear that the reapers all care and cherish y/n and their loyalty is as deep as the ocean, if not more, so i was just wondering if that were to ever occur, what would happen?

ooh, good question. i feel like no matter what, the reapers are always going to put y/n first and if they were to ever get into a relationship (mind you this is a mafia universe so if the relationship falls outside gang territory, that itself would be a whole different story) the reapers will most likely tell that other person that y/n comes first. i know it sounds weird but you'll probably understand my perspective once a few of the reapers' stories are revealed. but you can probably understand it in some ways because as revealed already, y/n saved them so in a way, putting anyone else above y/n is kinda betrayal itself -- even if y/n herself may never think of it that way.

they all know how strong and powerful y/n is, but they also understand how weak she is as well. all of them have suffered through trauma (both mentally and physically) but y/n was the one in the center of it all, taking everything that came at her especially since her own father was the mastermind and hates her for no freaking reason (just because he wanted a son and not a daughter 🤡). y/n was also able to save them, something they're unable to do for her because for one, it's almost impossible and two, y/n will never let them. they also aren't ever allowed to showcase their love and care for her and that's a rule mingyu will always make sure they follow.

i also think that in a way, they share similar thoughts of love with y/n; in that love comes and goes (not as deep as it is for y/n tho). who knows if the person you love will ever betray you, and there's also this thing about losing love for someone in the future (it just happens, sometimes it's unexplainable). but they can always count on their love and loyalty for y/n; it's not a come and go type of thing, it's here to stay forever.

i might even showcase a little bit of this in future chapters and hopefully i can explain it better in written story format lmao

[kandyrezi]

Offers you some pocket lint and also a bag of chocolate buttons and an actual button or two

Can I get some uhhhhhh Yandere Ziki stuff?

—esurient;

pairing: yandere!ziki x reader

warnings: dismemberment, amputation, blood & gore

(a/n: I have no idea what on earth I’m supposed to do with those assortment of items you just electronically gifted me, but thank you anyway -

- yeah, not me thinking to myself upon seeing this ask ‘who tf is ziki?’ ……. OH, THE MOUTH WITCH. moment of enlightenment after that. (there are some bonus headcanons as well at the bottom of this fic! <3))

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

SHE DIPS HER FINGERS into the crimson stain, placing the blood-stained digits on her tongue, identifying the one it belongs to. Unmistakable, no doubt. Her lover's blood isn't as tasty as some of the others' she's consumed – but it's inconsequential. The taste bears no meaning in comparison to the adoration she feels for the one who brightened up her world like no one else ever has.

(she remembers the look in your eyes – lost and confused – the very look you gazed at her with the first time when she spotted you.)

The blood splatters leave her darling's scent lingering, yet they themselves are nowhere to be found – most likely having somehow wandered off to somewhere. You must have hurt yourself, as she doesn't remember you bleeding when she'd left you on your lonesome.

(she fell in love with you the day she'd met you.)

It's too bad no one in this world will come to your aid, not like she did when she first met you. The other witches are all selfish and only acting in their own self-interest.

(not wanting to lose someone so precious and wanting to consummate your love, she took you back to her little place of residence hidden away in the witch world.)

Finding you is laughably easy when you didn't even make it very far in the first place; you're awfully noisy and the tongues on her body have excellent taste receptors. One of the mouths on her braided hair maims you in the thigh, hardly a challenge at all as you're still drowsy from your escape— rather, your impolite, unannounced departure. As you look up at your pursuer hovering on her broom with your one still-intact eye, instead of ghostly white, her eyes shine a captivating yellow much like the mysterious sphere resting in the skies.

You must have seen her then for who she really was.

A witch of hunger and rage.

She didn't want to inject you with her venom. Weaker creatures such as yourself were easily susceptible to it and would likely die from it ("cardiac arrest" Ptomain had described it as) as opposed to becoming immobilised.

You are not the human who had the prettiest lilac eyes who escaped from the mansion of a vampire lord. You are not the leopard seal girl with broken fangs she came across beached on an island.

But you're you, and that's all she cares about.

. . .

The source of light provided by a stream of orange glow from the skies reflected off of the leaves from the trees yet the bright hues do nothing in ways of giving comfort. It could be pitch black and your heart would threaten to beat out of your chest from terror in equal measure.

You're partially blind due to your missing left eye and your surroundings are alien to you. Never would you have willingly entered a maze of unknown woods, yet at this moment you're desperate. You wish some ghastly beast would emerge from from the underground to devour you right then and there to simply end it so you wouldn't have to endure it – anything at all to avoid the deadly clutches of Ziki.

The soles of your feet no doubt have developed callouses and your toes burn from how long you've been running while avoiding getting your ankle stuck in vines or treading on one of the many-eyed endemic snakes. You momentarily lean your weight onto a (hopefully) harmless tree trunk with your dismembered, two-fingered hand.

The wind blows, howling right next to your ear, causing a tremor of shivers to trail down your spine. You feel like you're being taunted, watched with a calculating gaze – you push yourself upright and are ready to sprint (to your death if you have to), but it only takes you less than a second—

The jolt of sharp pain in your thigh forces you to freeze up like an icicle as the painful sensation rapidly spreads through your body. You fall into the dirt with no way to brace yourself with painful collision. something (but you know it's in fact, a someone) has bitten you in the leg and the juncture above your ankle is maimed next.

Ziki might not be hunting you for the purpose of killing you (—or so she's claimed) yet obviously natural predator-prey instincts kick in when the one being hunted down isn't so keen on allowing the one doing the hunting to sink their sharp, sawtooth-like tusk into your thigh so she can't let you get away. Especially now when one of her twin-tail mouths latch on to and break through muscle and tissue, the stream of red running down your leg creating another warm shade of color to paint the woods with. You're too weak to struggle much due to injuries you've sustained back at the witch's residence and on the run, and the fight ends before it can even begin.

You slip in and out of consciousness many times – the words shifts and moves around you, but you aren't sure where you ended up, not until after you wake up again.

The braided witch is saying something but you can't make out all the words.

"Neither your eye... your fingers... enough."

Were you really taken back...?

"It seems... you still don't... the conjoin of our love, so..."

What is this lunatic saying?!

"...Zi-Ziki..."

Your head barely becomes clearer yet it still hurts, you realize it when you feel the tight hold of belts strapping you to a familiar chair by your ankles and shoulders. It must be her kitchen. Where she keeps her jars and other glass containers full of substances you don't want to know about. The herbs and flowers hanging from the walls can't block out the stench you feel oozing from them. You can't really see her, but a smile on her face was normally her default expression, so it's far from a stretch to assume so.

"But I'm not complaining," Ziki keeps on talking, "Not when the meat from your flesh is so... tender. I've been keeping you well-fed and nourished, you can thank Ptomain for giving me some tips. Not sure how she knows so much about the health of your kind, but..."

She leans forward to hold your hand with farce tenderness, her other fingers stroking the outlines of the veins on your wrist below.

"...it's good that you're here now! After this, you'll tell me how much you feel the same way that I do for you~! Don't worry, I won't let you die. A witch's promise."

All the mouths on her body open to showcase their sharp teeth right in front of you. you vaguely register her biting your arm off from the elbow with the mouth on her face while the rest hold your body still to keep you from struggling. It's not a clean bite – she twists and yanks as your bones crack and shatter while tissues come apart under her immense strength. It all happens in less than a few seconds yet your nerves are on fire and you can't remember screaming or crying or pleading – nothing – as your body forces itself into unconsciousness from shock and agony.

You pray you won't wake up again after this time.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

• Ziki has a desire to consume a part of her lover so they're with her always - probably a body part like fingers, an entire limb, earlobe, or an eye (rarely) - possibly keeps some in a jar as well. She "falls in love" easily but is unable to "keep them"for long because she becomes too overzealous in her treatment of them.

• She hates it when her darling runs away from her. It's enough to make her lose her composure and almost kill them when she finds them again - it's mainly a stroke of luck when she doesn't violently lash out at the moment of seeing them.

• Despite how much of a whacko she is, she is actually strategic when it comes to anatomy and knows best places to injure to keep a darling immobile or crippled.

• Ziki doesn't have any healing abilities like some of the other witches. If her darling were a human, they would most likely end up dying from the injuries which she inflicted.

• She is kept under careful watch of the Great Witch to make sure she doesn't go overboard but will sometimes turn a blind eye if it's some stray, weak human (since they don't usually survive under the harsh conditions of PBW anyway).

• While she will otherwise go for anyone, she has a bit of a fetish for humans in particular because she likes how frail and docile they are.

• Feels lonely since the death of her familiar (not caused by her). This might correlate with her desire to keep a plaything to fill in that void (...or it might not).

• The mouths on her body can open and eat things, but can speak with only the one on her face.

• Ziki is friends with Ptomain and Kagimori. Since they can do types of witchcraft that fundamentally differ from one another, Ptomain has given her tips on medical care and health without the need for magic usage. Kagimori sometimes complains about the mess from blood stains on the hardwood floors of Ziki's cottage when she goes in for a visit.

• Her eyes change color depending on her mood; her pupils are pure white when she's feeling more docile, but they turn yellow when her emotions become intense and she feels them strongly.

• Aside from her appetite for flesh, she also likes mandarin oranges.

- - -

(a/n: ziki is literally a blank slate with just a visual appearance, so I got a little creative with her in ways you normally can't with established characters. I wrote the headcanons while i was trying to figure out her personality for just myself initially, but then decided to share them anyway.)

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART FIVE

:Masterlist:

Warnings: Swearing and angst, baby!

A/N: I just realized that the tags on Part Four got messed up so i'm sorry for everyone that didn't get tagged! <3

---

June 1994

“I can do this.”

You mumbled to yourself as you paced in the sand, rubbing your sweaty palms against the leg of your jeans.

From your spot ‘backstage’ area, you could see the crowd as they waited for the next band, and it was huge. Huge enough to where any other day, you would’ve been buzzing with excitement, unable to sit still until you got behind your microphone. You would’ve been nauseous for a whole different reason.

But today was different.

Today you were singing a new song that you had spent weeks writing. The boys helped with the melody here and there, but it was the first whole song you had written in years, and at the end of it was the highest note you’ve ever hit.

And you had gotten through it perfectly every time you practiced it and you knew there was no way for you to be prepared, but there was still a nagging voice in the back of your head that you couldn’t shake.

“Hey.” Alex appeared at your side with a sympathetic smile on his face, instantly recognizing your pacing as a cry for help; considering it was a habit he picked up from you. “You need anything? Water? Aspirin?”

“A puppy?” Reggie chimed in.

“To punch Luke?” Bobby asked. 

“Dude!” Luke protested, shoving Bobby’s arm before stepping in front of you and resting his hands on your shoulders, his thumbs tracing slow circles on your collarbones in a way that was supposed to be soothing but only added to the mosh pit in your stomach. “(Y/n), you know this song inside and out. I’ve seen you kill it dozens of times with my own eyes.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Luke cut you off with an insistent look and a shake of his head. “No. No more doubting yourself, okay?”

“You kids are up next.” A gruff voice announced from backstage, and you took a deep breath as you nodded, looking up at Luke with a weak smile.

“You’ll be there to take over if I hurl everywhere, right?” You joked.

“You’re not gonna hurl.” Luke laughed, dropping his hands from your shoulders and wrapping one around your wrist. “But, of course I will. Now, ‘c’mon!”

He started walking towards the stage, dragging you with him. When you passed Alex’s drum set, his eyes drifted down to Luke’s grip on your wrist and he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. You barely had time to flip him off before you arrived at Luke’s microphone. 

He smiled as he dropped his hand to tug his guitar strap over his head. “I’m serious. You got this.”

“Thanks, Luke.” You mouthed to him as you walked to the center of the stage, positioning yourself behind your mic.

“How are we doing tonight?” The announcer asked over the speakers and the crowd cheered. “Hey everybody! Welcome to our annual ‘Sunshine Showcase’ where we hit you with the hottest new music in L.A. Everybody give it up for our next band: ‘Sunset Curve’!”

The bright lights at the edge of the stage switched from a dim white to bright red and yellow, casting a faint orange glow across the stage, mixing with the color of the disappearing sun. Alex started a steady rhythm, catching the crowd’s attention. Luke and Bobby joined in, then Reggie.

Then it was time for you to sing. 

Your voice started out a little shaky as you sang the first few lines, but it slowly got steadier as you approached the chorus and by the second verse, you got completely lost in the music, bouncing and bobbing your head.

As the second chorus came around, you felt yourself getting nervous again. So you whipped around and met Alex’s eyes. He smiled reassuringly and twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. Then faster than you could blink, Reggie was at your side, giving you his signature goofy smile as he played along.

You threw your arm over his shoulder and bump him with your hip, sending him back to his spot and making a few people in the front row laugh. 

Then Alex’s drumming quieted as the bridge came up. You willed yourself not to throw up as you pull your microphone off its stand and crouched down to sing to the crowd. 

1...

You kept your voice as steady as you could, giving them your best confident smile as you slowly picked yourself back up.

2...

The music got louder as it neared the end of the bridge and you took a deep breath to prepare for the high note, but it disappeared from your lungs when you realized that Luke had started walking towards you.

3...

Just as he stopped in front of you, the buildup stopped and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you as you closed yours and poured all your energy into the music.

You hit the note perfectly, even surprising yourself a little when you held it longer than you ever had in practice. The crowd erupted in cheers after the note ended, but you kept your eyes closed as you soaked up the moment.

When you finally opened them again, Luke was right next to you, an amazed look on his face. Suddenly, you were grateful for the bright lights covering your face because you were definitely blushing.

The backup for the chorus started up again, but everyone else stopped singing, leaving it up to you and Luke. You held your microphone out so you could both be heard over the cheering. Usually, you all tried to interact with the crowd as much as possible, especially Luke. But his eyes never left yours, not even to look down as he played.

They were so bright and filled with so much intensity that it was hard not to get caught up in moments like this. It wasn’t unusual for you and Luke to sing together and pretend to flirt. The crowd always ate it up and it was pretty fun in the moment. But it always crushed you when the music stopped and you were reminded that it was all for show.

The last note rang out and you let out something between a shaky breath and a relieved laugh. While the boys grabbed their instruments, you walked through the backstage curtain and jumped onto the ground, the adrenaline still racing through you.

“That was awesome!” Reggie said enthusiastically as he tackled you in a hug.

“Yeah, you killed it, (Y/n)!” Alex raised his hand to give you a high five, but his eyes were focused on something behind you. You turned to see what he was looking at, but all you saw was a blur of shaggy brown hair and a grin before a pair of hands lifted you into the air.

“You did it, Squeaks!” Luke cheered as he spun you around, making your head spin. “I told you that you weren’t gonna hurl.”

“I still might if you don’t put me down!” You managed to say through a fit of laughter, holding on to his shoulders to secure yourself as he gently set you down.

You had expected him to pull away once you were back on the ground, but his hands stayed firmly on your waist and he tilted his head forward slightly so his forehead rested against yours.

The world around you slowed down, and you had to put effort into catching your breath again.

“Get a room, guys.” Bobby called as he put his guitar back in it’s case, making Alex and Reggie laugh. You chuckled awkwardly as you pulled away, glaring at Bobby. Luke just smirked and leaned over to stick his finger in Bobby’s ear. “Gross! Dude, stop doing that.”

“Well, I’m starving.” Alex said suddenly, sending you a quick look over his shoulder and you knew he was trying to give you some time to freak out in peace. “Anyone want some pizza?”

The boys all nodded in agreement and started walking towards the parking lot towards Bobby’s car with their instruments in hand, but your feet stayed frozen in place. Your heart was racing as you stared down at the sand between your feet, one question filling up every corner of your mind.

Was it possible that Luke liked you back?

-

2020

If there was one thing you’ve learned from being a ghost: it’s that everything is unpredictable.

You had just started to accept that this was your ‘life’. That you would never tour the world, and perform in front of a crowd ever again. But then you sang with Julie in that gym, and everything in your world changed.

Again.

Your mind was overloaded with questions. Why can people see us now? And why do we only show up while playing with Julie? Why is the afterlife so confusing?

And one more question, that was less serious but equally as important.

Does Luke like Julie?

It had been plaguing you since last night, when Luke had disappeared into the Molina house and didn’t come out for an hour. He had taken his songbook with him, which you didn’t think anything of at the time. But now you know that he gave her ‘Bright’, one of the first songs you and Luke had ever written together.

And then again today, when she sang, Luke looked just as excited as he was when the two of you wrote it. You scolded yourself for thinking about this now when there were bigger things happening. But you couldn’t help but feel like the universe was hanging a giant sign in your face telling you to give up on Luke.

Across the room, Alex started pacing and you shook those thoughts from your head. You knew that if you were freaking out, then Alex was probably on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“I think he’s practicing his model strut.” Reggie whispered.

“He’s so nervous that it's making me nervous.” Luke agreed.

“Al?” You asked softly. “Are you okay?”

Alex sighed. “Okay. You guys know I don’t handle change well. Death? That was a change. Okay, then we became ghosts. Another change. And now we can be seen whenever we play with Julie. Big freaking change!”

“Yeah, but it was a good change.” Luke said. “With Julie, we can play on stage again and be the band we never got to be.”

Luke’s words felt like a punch to the stomach. Sure, maybe you guys never got famous when you were alive, but you were still a band. You still poured all your time, energy and ability into every song you made together. You knew that Luke was just excited and not thinking about his words. But it felt like another sign hitting you in the face.

“I just-” Alex let out a defeated sigh. “I just want to know why.”

“Forget why.” Luke shot up from the couch. “I think we should ask Julie to join Sunset Curve.”

“Yeah!” Reggie agreed. “I mean, with a new lead singer, this band would be legendary.”

And there was another punch.

“Dude.” You said, trying not to show how much that comment stung. You loved Reggie like a brother but sometimes you wished he thought things through a little more before he spoke.

“Hey! We’re the lead singers.” Luke crossed his arms petulantly.

Reggie raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying. She can make us visible! Without her, we’d just be like elevator music.”

Luke pouted. “Well, you don’t gotta be so mean about it.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Alex starting to pace again.

“Al.” You said, walking up to him and stopping him in his tracks. 

“I’m sorry, okay?” Alex pushed his hair out of his face. his breathing was a little heavy. “I just…”

There was a moment of careful silence, like everyone was holding their breath, too scared of saying the wrong thing. You all knew how bad Alex’s anxiety could be, and while this wasn’t the most freaked out you had ever seen him, it was getting close.

“Hey,” You intertwined Alex’s arm in yours. “Let’s go for a walk, yeah? Clear our heads?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

You sent one last look over your shoulder to Reggie and Luke before you closed your eyes and concentrated on one of your favorite spots in the city. It was one of the first places you went to on your first night back.

Back in the 90's, it was one of your go-to spots when you just needed a place to breathe and sort through your thoughts.

The Walk of Fame.

The noise of the street filled your ears and opened your eyes, finding yourself in the middle of the sidewalk. Alex was right beside you, staring down at all the stars.

"Here? Really?"

You rolled your eyes. "Duh. It's where you and I had our first heart to heart, remember?"

Alex smiled as the memory played through your heads. It was a week after he came out to his parents and the tension in his house had slowly been building up until it was too much for him to handle. So you dragged him here.

"And I think it's time we had another one." You nudged him. "So, come on."

As the two of you walked through the streets of Hollywood arm in arm, it was like an invisible dam burst open and all the questions came pouring out.

After an hour, your head felt like it was going to explode if you kept thinking about all the crazy things that had happened since you got back. But there was still one question you needed to ask.

"Hey, Al?" You asked, making Alex hum in response. "Do you think that Luke likes Julie?"

"Yeah, I mean, I thought he was going to propose when he realized she can make us visible.” Alex said, his face dropping when he felt your arm tense in his. “No! Not like that. Shit, sorry. I-”

“It’s okay, Alex.” You said. You could see him cringing out of the corner of your eye and you knew he was probably beating himself up. “Maybe it’s a good thing, you know? Maybe it’ll be the push I need to finally move on.”

“But you can’t move on until you know how he feels.” Alex stopped abruptly, making you stop too.

“I think he’s been pretty clear."

“Has he?” Alex asked. “In case I missed it, you and Luke haven’t been talking much lately.”

You started to argue but then suddenly, a guy on a skateboard came barreling around the corner and ran right into Alex, making his arm fall out of yours as they both went crashing to the ground.

Alex slowly got back on his feet, groaning painfully. The other guy followed, sighing as he inspected his skateboard.

“Aw, man. You dinged my board.”

“I dinged your board? You almost ran me over! You’re lucky I didn’t-” The realization flashed in his eyes. “You ran me over.”

The skater looked just as confused as both of you when you asked, “You’re a ghost?”

“Yeah.” He took off his helmet, showing off his long hair. “Ever since I learned that skating in traffic was bad.”

Alex took in a sharp breath next to you and you smiled, knowing from the way his jaw dropped and he tripped over his words when the other guy tried to apologize that he was having a ‘gay panic’ moment.

“You guys are new to this whole ghost thing, huh?”

Alex was still a blushing mess but he seemed to find his voice. “Is it that obvious?”

“Totally.” The skater extended his hand out to Alex. “I’m Willie.”

“Alex.”

You introduced yourself quickly, then turned to Alex with a grin. Of course, you wanted to keep hanging with Alex, but it was time to be a good wing-woman. “Hey, I think I’m gonna go back to Cece’s for a while, but you should stay and get some information.”

Alex blushed again, clearly picking up on your intentions but he nodded.

“It was nice meeting you, Willie.” You said, waving goodbye but not before you raised your eyebrows at Alex to let him know that you were definitely going to be grilling him about his afternoon later.

 -

Just like every other time you walked into the diner, you were hit with a wave of painful nostalgia.

On a day like this, you would’ve walked right through the kitchen door and straight into Cece’s arms, rambling on while she made you her special hot chocolate and talked it all out with you until it made sense.

But now, you’re stuck trying to figure everything out alone.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite waitress.” Teddy called out from behind the counter, dog-earing his book and setting it aside to give you his full attention.

“Dude, we just met.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t it a little too early for shameless flirting?”

Teddy scoffed playfully. “It’s never too early for shameless flirting.”

You weren’t super inexperienced when it came to flirting, but it felt like you were in this moment. Sure, you and Luke flirted on stage all the time, but it wasn’t real. At least not for him. But you had gotten so used to it that someone being open about their feelings with you short-circuited your brain a little.

“So.” You said, looking down at this book on the counter. “The Great Gatsby?”

Teddy laughed. “Yeah, it’s kinda on my bucket list.”

“But you’re already dead.”

“Touché, Gorgeous.”

You sat there, talking about your lives, and deaths. Reluctantly, you told him that you died from a hotdog, which led to him declaring it to be the funniest death in history. The more you talked to Teddy, the better you felt. And before you knew it, it had been hours.

By the time you finally decided to leave, there was still a gaping, Luke-shaped hole in your heart. But you decided that maybe it was time to listen to the signs the universe- that Luke- was giving you and try to move on with your life.

Even if it meant letting go of your best friend.

-

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull​ @wanniiieeee​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @nieauou​ @merceret​ @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16 @dangerouslyclose @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @givemebooksorgivemedeath​ @sunsetcurvedotmp3​ @askgeoff​

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13​

(The strikethough means I can’t tag you)

Let me know if you want to be added!

[firelxdykatara]

gods, ok, apparently i’m not done.

atla fandom? we need to have a chat.

(....ok that made me sound pretentious as fuck. and maybe i am, but this needs to be said, cause i’m getting....real, real tired of a Certain Corner of this fandom and as a result, this is gonna be a discourse-heavy post so feel free to scroll past if that’s not your bag. as always, my salt posts all carry the catch-all #salt for ts tag, which you’re free to blacklist/filter at your leisure. i’m Very Annoyed at the moment, which will probably come through in the following post, so just. yknow. be prepared for that. or ignore it, that’s perfectly valid too.)

under a cut bc i do care for my followers and their sanity i swear lmao

there’s a real serious issue in this fandom with not understanding what queer terminology actually means or implies, especially when applied to a fictional narrative.

i’m specifically talking about ‘coding’, here. (if i were in a more meme-y mood, i might have said ‘the atla fandom found out about the term “gay-coding” and haven’t shut up since’.)

to the people who say ‘zuko is gay-coded’, i have this to say: you keep using that word. i do not think it means what you think it means. because he isn’t. i’m sorry, but he’s not! and the fact that this is such a prevalent claim in this fandom is distressing, bc it says to me that none of y’all know what gay-coding is or when and how to apply it! please, i’m begging you, go and look up these terms and what they mean and when they should be used before actually trying to plug them into your critical analysis, because when you misuse them and then call other people delusional for disagreeing with you it casts a pall over the entire fandom and is, i think, the root of some of the worst toxicity this fandom has to offer.

and the thing is, there are cases where gay-coding would apply--for instance, a couple series that are famous for queerbaiting their audience by coding their main characters as being attracted to one another (sometimes even despite their openly stated sexualities) come to mind, but those shows bare no similarities at all to atla and how zuko was written and portrayed! (and it would be funny, if it weren’t so obnoxious and infuriatingly wide-spread throughout the fandom, because the only queer couple we actually seen on-screen in either show wasn’t even queer-coded in any respect, and they’re canonically bi! [yes, i’m shading korrasami, or more accurately i’m shading bryke for refusing to give ka the build-up and development they deserved].)

this absolutely isn’t to say that headcanoning zuko as gay is a bad thing or invalid in any respect. (although the tendency for zukka shippers to do this specifically to keep zuko away from katara and/or invalidate his canon relationship/attraction to girls is more than a little eyebrow raising. especially since sokka is usually allowed to be bi, bc fans have no problem letting sukka stay in the background bc it’s no real threat, while jetko shippers are happy to have both boys be bi. [possibly bc katara is less a threat to jetko bc jetkotara is every bit as valid as any single ship between the three, but zukka can’t exactly let katara join in, and if the potential exists for zuko to be attracted to her then canon giving them the far deeper emotional bond becomes a threat to zukka’s existence? idk for sure--you be the judge.]) i prefer to hc zuko as bi (and always have, long before the atla renaissance), bc i don’t think zuko being attracted to boys is outside the realm of possibility, and it isn’t a threat to my ship since zuko&katara had a deep and emotional bond in canon that is very easy to develop further into something that becomes explicitly romantic--but the headcanon itself isn’t really the problem (although what it’s often in service to can be).

it’s the strange insistence that this is the only way to read his character, bc he was coded that way and so anyone who doesn’t see it must be too straight to understand--and i really shouldn’t have to say why and how that is so incredibly fucking insulting. (the ‘hetero lenses’ comment wasn’t cute when it came from bryke six years ago, and the same sentiment being repackaged and delivered by zukka shippers ain’t cute now.)

calling zuko gay-coded not only demonstrates ignorance as to what the term actually means, and how to usefully apply it in critical analysis, but also validates the frankly bullshit insertion of institutionalized homophobia in the world of atla where it was neither needed, nor wanted, nor ever hinted at in canon. as a queer woman i’m still infuriated by one fucking comic panel shoving institutionalized and systemic homophobia into a world where it was entirely unnecessary (and doing this in the first installment of the franchise showcasing a queer relationship??? making korra and asami worried about ‘coming out’ when they could have just gone on to have cute adventures together and tell people ‘hey we’re dating’ and have everyone else be ‘that’s awesome =DDD’ [because it is, in fact, possible to just have a world without homophobia i promise!!!!!] double yikes, i’m still pissed at bryke about it), and i doubly hate that ‘zuko is gay coded’ has become so widespread that ‘ozai hates him bc he’s gay’ has become a staple in that part of the fandom.

not only does making zuko gay and implying (or outright stating) that ozai hated and abused him because of it completely undermine zuko’s character arc by making his abuse about his sexuality rather than ozai’s toxic pride and anger at seeing himself reflected in his ‘weak’ son, but it comes very close to outright stating that abuse and trauma are inherently gay experiences, and they aren’t!!! they really aren’t, i promise!!!

abuse and trauma narratives exist outside of ‘my dad hates me because i’m gay’. and, quite frankly, there are MORE THAN ENOUGH queer trauma narratives out in the world. we do not need to start trying to retroactively make them canon in a series where they didn’t exist! if you’re gay and see yourself in zuko and project your own experiences on him, that’s understandable and valid. that does not make zuko gay-coded. and honestly, the insistence that he is makes very little sense to me, because you’re essentially trying to give the show credit for work you put into interpreting the characters! why would you want to do that? why not own your own headcanons and take credit for them, rather than insisting they are canon and everyone else is wrong for not seeing them??? like, i’ve said before that i’ve always headcanoned zuko (and katara) as bi, and even support it with my interpretations of evidence from the show, but the difference between ‘i think zuko is bi’ and ‘zuko is definitely gay-coded’ is that i know that bi zuko is my interpretation of canon, and that it is work i’m putting into the show that wasn’t actually intended by the creators/writers, no matter how much sexual tension i read into the jetko swordfight.

and like, zuko’s character arc doesn’t actually parallel a queer one all that well to begin with. it’s easy enough to do the work and twist it sideways just enough to make the general points fit, but the fact is, zuko’s arc is not one of self-discovery. it’s not one of coming to understand something fundamental about himself that he can’t change, that he was hated for, and coming out to his father in a dramatic confrontation where he shows that he understands himself and doesn’t need his father’s acceptance to be fulfilled.

zuko’s arc is actually one of trauma and healing. and those can (and often are--like i said, there are more than enough queer trauma narratives in the world, atla really doesn’t need to be one of them) be part of queer narratives, for sure! but they aren’t uniquely queer. and zuko’s confrontation with ozai during the eclipse doesn’t read like a ‘coming out’ at all. (yes, i’ve seen that post. yes, i rolled my eyes and moved on, bc unlike some people, i’m capable of not clowning on correctly tagged posts i disagree with.) zuko is specifically confronting ozai over his abuse, because his arc wasn’t about discovering anything fundamental about himself (and therefore realizing that ozai was hating him for something he couldn’t change)--it was about realizing that he was not at fault for the way his father treated him. it was also about realizing that the fire nation was broken and corrupt at its core, and that his father was an aspect of that he needed to break away from so that he could help the world begin to heal.

he says it himself:

Zuko: No, I've learned everything! And I've had to learn it on my own! Growing up, we were taught that the Fire Nation was the greatest civilization in history. And somehow, the War was our way of sharing our greatness with the rest of the world. What an amazing lie that was. The people of the world are terrified by the Fire Nation. They don't see our greatness. They hate us! And we deserve it! We've created an era of fear in the world. And if we don't want the world to destroy itself, we need to replace it with an era of peace and kindness.

making this about zuko being gay and rejecting ozai’s homophobia, rather than zuko learning fundamental truths about the world and about his home and about how there was something deeply wrong with his nation that needed to be fixed in order for the world to heal (and, no, ‘homophobia’ is not the answer to ‘what is wrong with the fire nation’, i’m still fucking pissed at bryke about that), misses the entire point of his character arc. this is the culmination of zuko realizing that he should never have had to earn his father’s love, because that should have been unconditional from the start. this is zuko realizing that he was not at fault for his father’s abuse--that speaking out of turn in a war meeting in no way justified fighting a duel with a child.

is that first realization (that a parent’s love should be unconditional, and if it isn’t, then that is the parent’s fault and not the child’s) something that queer kids in homophobic households/families can relate to? of course it is. but it’s also something that every other abused kid, straight kids and even queer kids who were abused for other reasons before they even knew they were anything other than cishet, can relate to as well. in that respect, it is not a uniquely queer experience, nor is it a uniquely queer story, and zuko not being attracted to girls (which is what a lot of it seems to boil down to, at the end of the day--cutting down zuko’s potential ships so that only zukka and a few far more niche ships are left standing) is not necessary to his character arc. nor does it particularly make sense.

(and before anyone brings up his date with jin--a) he enjoyed it when she kissed him, and b) he was a traumatized, abused child going out on a first date. of course he was fucking awkward. have you ever met a teenage boy????)

anyway, uh, that was a lot of words, so have a tl;dr: zuko is not gay-coded. there is nothing uniquely gay (or even uniquely queer) about his character arc or characterization, and he was certainly not coded gay in an attempt to sneak a queer character past the censors. if anyone involved with atla was gonna try that, it would’ve been in lok, and as established, they didn’t even manage to queer-code the actual queer relationship before the last few minutes of the final episode. headcanoning zuko as gay is absolutely fine (though if it’s only done to keep him away from female characters he may otherwise be attracted to, that smells more like misogyny than anything else), but insisting that this reading is the only one that makes sense, and anyone who doesn’t agree must be straight (hello, queer woman here making this insanely long thinkpiece) is very much not.

ship what you like, but stop trying to invalidate other ships and other interpretations of characters just to make your ship seem more plausible. it’s really not a good look.

[reminisce05-20]

Dazai - The Book - Double Black

Dazai couldn't remember being a child, one of elementary age. He had only started to remember when he was around 14, which was when he first met Mori.

Sometimes, he wondered if he should be searching for answers, of who his parents could've been or where he came from, but he had easily moved on. Perhaps too easily, but he had no regrets. After all, the past didn't define him. He could write his own story from the present.

Only after words started to be written on his pale skin did he start to wonder who he really was.

Long sleeves could suffice, but just in case, Dazai wrapped bandages around his arms. Then his torso. Then up to his neck and finally his eye to give the air of an injury. The words hadn't spread quite that much, but it made his stomach crawl whenever he saw the squiggly lines all over his body. It was simply a precaution in case more words suddenly appeared.

Dazai soon met Chuuya, who was loud and angry and short, which made it even funnier when Dazai riled him up. Chuuya insisted that he was still young and growing. For the first time, Dazai wanted to laugh at the words he had seen yesterday on his elbow. Chuuya will never grow.

Although the words brought occasional joy, when he was 18, he saw words on the back of his left arm that said, Sakunosuke Oda will die. Sakunosuke couldn't die. His ability allowed him to see things moments before they actually happened, and Sakunosuke wasn't dumb. He would be fine.

He never had allowed the words on his arms and body to ever affect him. Words, in general, had never affected him since Dazai believed actions could speak much more.

"Be on the side that saves people. If both sides are the same, then choose to become a good person. Save the weak, protect the orphaned. You might not see a great difference between right and wrong, but... saving others is something just a bit wonderful."

For once, he took the words to heart.

Once, long ago when he was still young, not in the Detective Agency nor even the Mafia, Dazai had written something on his arm, something that tattooed itself to his arm for just a second before it burned away with terrible pain.

Dazai experimented. His ability, "No Longer Human", obviously canceled out abilities with no exception. The words were things to happen, things that were happening, and things that had happened. The timing for when the events actually took place differed, from as small as a minute to as long as a year. Dazai couldn't change events that were going to happen or create an entirely new one. It was probably a strange mix of the words and his ability.

Dazai had considered going to the President to inform him of the words. He was fairly sure that everyone else in the agency believed the bandages to be a fashion choice, excluding Ranpo and the President. He walked in front of the office door for a few minutes, pacing, before walking back to his desk. Perhaps the talk could be moved to another time.

The words were often too ugly to be shown to others.

Dazai was good at planning things, which made it entirely his fault that he hadn't prepared ahead for this.

A few days ago words had appeared on his collarbone, ones that said, "Chuuya will unleash Arahabaki once more. Secrets will be revealed." If Chuuya was going to showcase his powers, Dazai would no doubt be sent along unless Chuuya had managed to somehow subdue his powers effectively. Sure enough, he was sent to settle a dispute that would benefit both the Mafia and the Agency. It was always nice, seeing the top of Chuuya's hat, showing that he had indeed not grown a single bit.

He had misinterpreted the "secrets" on his arm. Dazai had expected it to be Chuuya's secrets, of how he stayed so short all the time.

In Arahabaki form, Chuuya had never attacked Dazai, at least not to kill. He had to have some semblance of control to not kill the only person that could bring him back, even if Chuuya hated him. But this time, right after defeating the enemy, Chuuya turned on him in an instant, giving Dazai no time to nullify his ability.

It would have been fine. Dazai only took a few hard hits before he tapped Chuuya on the head, nullifying his ability. They both staggered for a moment before Dazai laughed.

"Well, that was awfully close wasn't it, Chuuya?"

Chuuya huffed, angry but too tired to anything about it.

"Only if you had touched me a little earlier maybe you - hey what's that on your arm?"

Dazai froze before he looked at his left arm, bandages slightly unraveled, revealing the inky text on his arm.

"Some tattoo shit? Or maybe weird scars..."

Chuuya took a step forward while Dazai hurriedly rebandaged his arm with a hopefully winning grin.

"How observant of you."

Chuuya scowled for a second before staring at Dazai.

"Seriously, was it just some weirdo tattoo? Show me what you have written there."

Dazai made a mental note to seriously work out and train with Kunikida. Then again, it probably wouldn't bring him near Chuuya's level for a long time. Even after using Arahabaki, Chuuya stomped forward, grabbing his arm and unwrapping the bandage with unreasonable strength and speed. His control must have actually been getting better. Or maybe they had just defeated the enemy faster today.

"What the - what the heck is this Dazai?"

He didn't have the strength to stand properly, staggering a little bit while unsuccessfully trying to get out of Chuuya's iron grip.

"An occult tattoo I got when I was 14. It says 'fuck off Chuuya'."

"It literally says 'Sakunosuke Oda will die'. I've heard of that name before... who was that again?"

Out of all the sentences Chuuya could have seen, it had to be that one. Why not the one about Atsushi dropping his ice cream, or maybe the one about Chuuya's height? They could have laughed over that.

"This actually happened didn't it Dazai? Like, a few years ago?"

At this point, Dazai simply didn't care enough to wrench his wrist away from Chuuya. He had wanted to tell someone about this for so long. Chuuya and he didn't have the best relationship, but they could certainly trust each other. After all, they had been partners, right?

"It tells me things that are going to happen. Well, at the time of course. This already happened a while ago."

Chuuya simply stared, unsure of what to believe.

"I tried changing history once. It hurt really bad, I think it's got something to do with my goddamn ability, I hate seeing the words every day and having to bandage them - "

"Um... Dazai, calm down."

He hadn't realized he was breathing so heavily. His chest felt like it was burning.

It felt like it was burning just like when he was young - why was it like this when he hadn't written anything down on his skin?

"Dazai, what's going on?"

Dazai turned away from Chuuya before throwing his jacket off, then his vest, then his shirt to reveal the mass of bandages covering every inch of his skin.

"What the fuck Dazai, stop stripping in front of me - "

Dazai for once ignored Chuuya instead of sending back an angry retort. He unwrapped the bandages, not caring if Chuuya saw the words or not since the pain was burning as if he was dying and he wanted it to just stop. Stop stop stop.

The bandages were off to show the mass of writing on his back and arms and stomach and even up to his neck. Chuuya's breathing became softer, more confused and curious.

Chuuya will never grow.

Dazai will trip and fall on the doormat before meeting Akutagawa for the first time.

Sakunosuke Oda will die.

Atsushi will drop the ice cream Dazai bought for him and will be horrified.

More evil will soon come in Yokohama.

Chuuya will unleash Arahabaki once more. Secrets will be revealed.

Chuuya simply stared, dumbfounded, trying to read everything written on Dazai's back. Dazai on the other hand, looked down at the center of his chest to see just a few words.

Yokohama's Page - By Osamu Dazai.

The words were a gleaming gold, burning his skin before suddenly cooling into the familiar black, only a small golden border on the edges of each letter. Chuuya had now walked in front of him, kneeling, reading the words that had just appeared.

"So. You're some special shit."

Dazai let out a flat laugh. Indeed he was.

"It says 'More evil will soon come in Yokohama'. Right, Dazai?"

Dazai nodded blindly. He couldn't remember that one, but maybe it was because it was on his back. It was hard to read from a mirror.

"You should tell your agency this. Have you told them?"

Dazai's silence was the same as a confirmation. Chuuya mumbled something about how he always had to make his life worse, although Dazai knew that it was halfhearted.

After Dazai put on every single one of his bandages, thoroughly covering every inch of skin along with his other clothes, Chuuya and he walked in silence for a little. Usually, they would've been arguing all the way back, making the silence feel even worse.

"Oy. Dazai."

Chuuya growled when Dazai didn't make any move to answer before sighing and backing down. Dazai blinked, seeing that for the first time, Chuuya had backed down from an argument.

"We were partners before. Are we still partners?"

Dazai smiled.

"If we're partners, I'll be annoying you all day! I think that'd be pretty nice ~ "

"Well fuck you too!"

It was nice, feeling the usual annoyance flowing through Chuuya, the same remarks they always passed forth to each other.

"So you're saying we are partners, Dazai."

Dazai's eyes narrowed. What was with Chuuya being overly... nice all of a sudden? Being so calm?

Chuuya, catching Dazai's eyes screeched again before kicking over a trash can.

"I'm saying I can help you with this goddamn book shit! Words! Partners! The fuck is wrong with you?"

Dazai stared as Chuuya knocked over a few more trash cans while screaming about how utterly dumb Dazai could be for someone that was supposed to be so smart, so crafty, and so manipulative.

The familiar tickle of more words caused Dazai to flinch, hand moving toward his neck where the words seemed to be. Chuuya, who was done with his little fit, stopped for a second before walking over, no doubt intrigued. Dazai tugged the bandages down a little bit while Chuuya read the words out loud.

"Fyodor Dostoevsky is looking for another part of the book in Yokohama."

Dazai's eyes widened when he heard the name, and Chuuya no doubt understood that this man was someone dangerous if they could elicit such a reaction from Dazai. They looked at each other, understanding passing through their eyes.

"Well, I guess we're partners again Chuuya!"

"Only because I fucking have to!"

Dazai supposed that he would also have to tell the Agency about this. And as more people knew, the news would inevitably spread to the Mafia too. He only had to make sure that Fyodor didn't receive the information, and that was if Fyodor didn't already know about him.

"Fucking Dazai."

Chuuya grabbed Dazai's hair and pulled, forcing Dazai to yelp while batting Chuuya's hands away.

"We're going to crush this bastard Fyodor."

Dazai laughed at the sheer amount of determination in Chuuya's name, laughing like he never had ever before.

Indeed, Double Black would crush the enemy like they always did.

___________________________

Kind of an abrupt end, but you get the idea :>

[nxrthmizu]

love in bubble wraps.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | kuroo tetsurou x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.9k

author's note | based on a real life experience... :)

Love, you think, comes in many forms. Sometimes love is a warm, home-cooked meal that is now cooked at least once a week because you told your mother you liked it. Other times, love is laughing and crying alongside the friends you’ve known since pre-school because everyone passed their highschool finals with flying colours. Throughout our lives, we gradually come to meet the different forms of love, because it comes in all shapes, colours, and sizes.

First, we learn that love is a roof that you can always turn to when a storm blows in. Then, we learn that love is knowing that there are people who will drop everything to help you when your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. Lastly, we learn to interlock our fingers with the one we wish to walk to the end of time with.

Then again, love varies from person to person— Just like how the goddess of love, Aphrodite, looks different to every soul that sets its sights on her; Beauty truly lies in the eye of the beholder. For some, love comes in the form of a warm body to cuddle next to on a rainy day. For others, love comes in the form of a jewelled ring. For you, love comes in the form of a 6’2 man who still doesn’t know how to tame his bedhead.

Tetsurou is often too busy for his own good, always running around here and there to secure contracts, ensuring that Japan can make a name for itself during the Olympics. He books train tickets to opposite ends of Japan at least once a month, leaving before the sun rises and returning after it sets. The sun never dictates his work day, because while his coworkers work from nine to five, Tetsurou works until he finishes his tasks.

Okay, so your husband is a bit of a workaholic. And maybe not just a bit.

“L/N-san,” Your colleague asks one day out of sheer curiosity. A group of women are gathered around the snack station, sipping on cheap, machine-produced instant coffee as they gossip about their marital lives instead of working. “Now that I think about it… I’ve never met your husband, have I?”

“Ah,” You sweat-drop nervously at this. Wonderful— Your parents are already pressuring you about how Kuroo rarely visits with you— And now your coworkers, too? “He’s quite busy. He works very hard to make sure that we’ll be well-off in the future.” You respond, knowing that your reply is just a thinly-veiled way of saying ‘He’s rarely home,’.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Wherever you go, there’s always a middle-aged lady who has nothing better to do than to prey on the weak spots of your life, “It must feel lonely. You must feel so sad when you see my husband pick me up from work.” A smirk dances up her lips as she waits for you to walk into her trap, smiling as widely as a spider watching its incoming meal.

“Not really,” A practiced smile counters hers as you take a sip of your coffee. “I know Tetsurou loves me— There’s an unbreakable trust between us. He might not be home often, but I know that he’s working hard so that we can have a better tomorrow… And that’s sort of comforting, in a sense. Knowing that Tetsurou wishes for a future where we’re financially stable, where we can just spend a whole day doing nothing in each other’s presence…”

A chorus of ‘awws’ makes you blush. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the middle-aged coworker huff in failure. You mentally fist-pump the air at your victory.

“Anyway, I heard that you got engaged last weekend, Shiho-san,” Changing the topic quickly, you smile when the attention of all the ladies instantly redirects to the said woman, who blushes fiercely as they all coo at her ring. “Congratulations!”

“Oh my! He bought you such a beautiful ring… Ah, Shiho-san, you’re so lucky!”

“My husband also bought me a new bag last week,” The middle-aged woman chips in proudly, cocking her head towards her cubicle, where the leather handbag sits atop a tower of documents. “It’s very expensive.”

“That’s nice of him! It’s been forever since my husband bought me something.” Sighs another lady. Most of the group hums in agreement, sharing sympathetic looks with those that share the same fate.

“At the beginning, when we were still dating, Hayato used to buy me so many things, now…” The coworker that brings homemade cookies every New Years’ party says, looking dejected. “It’s like once we’re married, they don’t have to worry about making us happy anymore…”

“Ah, what about you, L/N-san? Does your husband buy you things often?”

You groan internally when the attention shifts to you once more. Honestly, you’re just there to listen and enjoy your coffee— Must you keep getting dragged into the conversation? “Well, personally I don’t really need my husband to buy me things to keep me happy, but… He does bring back trinkets whenever he travels.” You think about it for a while, then brighten when you remember the latest thing Tetsurou brought back for you.

“What is it?” Your change in expression isn’t missed by your coworkers, who preen with curiosity, excited to know what made you brighten up.

“Ah, it’s nothing… I promise, you’ll be disappointed if I tell you.” You chuckle.

“Come on!” “Be a good sport, L/N-san!” “We’re curious now, you can’t not tell us!”

“Oh, fine.” You sigh, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Three days ago, Saturday ]

You were on the couch, binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy with the Netflix subscription Tetsurou got for you to occupy yourself with while he was out of town. Your cat, Kazume (nicknamed after your husband’s best friend) lazed on your lap, yawning once in a while and swatting at the stray threads from your sweater.

Somewhere in between your fifteenth and seventeenth episode, the front door chirped with the sound of someone inserting a key into the lock. You perked up at the noise, Kazume yelping in protest as he almost slipped off.

“Oh, sorry Kazu.” You said quickly, a smile widening your lips as the front door opened.

“I’m ho—” Before your husband could finish his sentence, you were already at his side. Kazume meowed loudly from the couch, complaining about you abandoning him for another man. Tetsurou’s eyes softened, the edges of his hazel irises worn down by exhaustion. You took his laptop bag from him, as well as the folders he has in hand, balancing them like how you would balance your three grocery bags when Tetsurou wasn’t around to help. “I missed you too, but are you sure you can carry all of my files with one hand?”

“Yes!” You replied confidently, showcasing your balance as you wobbled through the living room with all of your husband’s stuff. Tetsurou’s laugh echoed through the apartment as he followed you, his reflexes coming into play as he dived for a falling file. “Oops.” You giggled, helping him up after he practically hurled himself at the floor.

Tetsurou shook his head, sighing fondly while he hugged you from the back, taking comfort in the familiar smell of your hair shampoo. “I missed you.” He mumbled.

“Me too.” You hummed, reaching back to stroke your hands through his still-untamed bedhead.

“Oh, before I forget,” Tetsurou leapt up suddenly, chucking his backpack onto the ground. “I brought back something for you!”

“I already have like, twenty-five keychains from Hyogo,” You reminded him, “Please tell me it’s not a…” Your voice trailed off when Tetsurou proudly whipped his gift from his backpack, hazel eyes shining for your reaction.

“... So?” Tetsurou grinned widely, like a five-year-old child holding up his drawing for his mother to critique.

“Oh my god, I love you.” You declared in your 80 sq ft kitchen, grabbing the gift from him. “I’ll clean up your stuff, go take a bath and we can have dinner while watching the…'' You pursed your lips as you try to recall the information that kept evading you like an annoying fly. “... 15th? 16th episode of Grey’s.”

“You started that without me? I said I wanted to watch that.” Tetsurou pouted petulantly like a child.

“I finished all the other stuff I wanted to watch,” You told him unapologetically. “And Kazume wanted to watch it too. Now hurry and take a bath or I’m starting without you.”

Twenty minutes later, you were cuddled up to your husband, who did not bother to comb his hair (“It’ll just be messy later anyway,” His reasoning was). Every few seconds, he would scoop some cold mash potato out of the giant bowl (The two of you were too impatient to heat it with the microwave) and feed you. All throughout the episode, there was the constant pop-pop-pop of you working your way through the giant piece of bubble wrap Tetsurou had brought home for you.

“You know, I was thinking,” You hummed as Tetsurou pressed ‘Next Episode’. “If It were any other woman, they might have slapped you for bringing just bubble wrap home after a whole week away.”

“Well, then I’m lucky that you aren’t ‘any other woman’, am I?” Your husband smiled, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips before picking up the mash potato bowl again. “Are we just going to have mashed potatoes for dinner?”

“I bought spicy instant noodles yesterday, we can have that later if you want.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Present, Tuesday ]

“That’s actually so sweet of him!” Your colleague coos as you finish your story. “Wish I had a husband like that…'' Even the middle-aged lady begrudgingly nods in agreement. For a moment, you feel a surge of pride— It was your husband they were talking about— Your sweet, hardworking, dork of a 6’2 bedhead.

“You wouldn’t be able to survive.” Another lady snorts. “That guy is away for weeks at a time.”

You hum. “Well, at least he calls back every night, regardless of how tired he is.” In the corner of your mind, you remember that he makes sure to call his grandmother every weekend, and that he sends his parents (and grandparents) money every month, that he visits your parents the first Sunday after he’s back from his trips— Not to mention that he always brings a gift of wellness products (The most recent one was a box of abalone).

The group of women swoon once more.

“Well, I guess we should get back to work,” You dispose of your paper cup in the trash, brushing your hands off. “See you ladies later.”

The moment you’re back at your desk, you take out your phone to text your husband, who is, no doubt, going to be very, very confused.

[ y/n ] 2.37pm

— we have a problem

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.39pm

— what’s wrong???

[ y/n ] 2.38pm

— i may have accidentally caused 20 women in my office to fall in love with you

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.38pm

— what ???

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

you know it's love when your dad comes home with this giant piece of bubble wrap and your mom literally squeals and snatches it to immediately start popping it on the couch while browsing facebook on her ipad

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket Manga Review ch (90)- First pages ONLY.

I skimmed thro ch-89 to know the context of ch-90. it was Cinderella’s play. In this chapter, Kyo says early on, that time has passed since the play & that they are NOW starting their third year in high school. cool.

This part will ONLY focus on the 1st few pages of ch 90 abt (kyo & tohru) & stop before kyo’s memories starts, because the early pages contain:

Tons of new unexplored analysis of (kyo & tohru) characters that unfortunately was intentionally cut & worse! “changed” in the anime.

No space to add kyoko’s story in this post.

Kyoko’s story is full psychologically & socially.. I need to take a deeeeeeep breath before I unpack it. very deeeeep breath!

-Glimpses of Tohru (the silent grieving girl) Subtle Writing of Grief:

Right from the beginning, I hate how much insight into tohru’s grief & weakness as a human being is already there in the first few pages of ch-90 than the entire 3 seasons of the anime! From few pages we have:

Tohru’s seemingly delighted watching a video. Subtly, showcasing tohru’s grieve & paving the path for tohru’s trauma exploration later in the story. Grief is not sth you quickly past, that’s the most tragic misunderstanding of grief. Time will pass, so, you’ll be better & healthier. Really?!. Tohru’s inner desire to see her mom alive manifested in her words: “ like a photo comes to life” T_T.

The story/writing/manga is acknowledging tohru’s heartbreaking & NOT cute habit of talking to her mom’s cold dead photo! In the anime, tohru talks to her a lot in se01 & it’s up to you to see as as “ cute” as all the canon characters do or actually feeling it IS wrong. Kyo’s  “ what would she do if there were a video of her mom”! “ drives the point more abt tohru being a sad grieving human~not the “advice-giving, optimistic angel, & rain-stopping sunshine in the anime.

Tohru telling kyo to NOT catch cold connecting it to se01, ep 9 (haru’s ep) when tohru was afraid that yuki might catch cold & kyo noticed that! so now in se03, they’re dropping this plot altogether within the main anime, for what? we dont even know if this part would be included in whatever “ kyoko’s” spinoff content would be. -_-’.

That’s how you write subtle trauma such as (grief) for a main (female) MC. subtlety is the key. Respect the viewers intelligence & do it.

You don’t have to give her the long speeches or the many focused ep that yuki had. he’s the kind who confront himself inwardly constantly.

You don’t have to showcase drama, confrontation & force the emotions out like you did with kyo. he runs from his trauma & punishes himself.

Tohru buries her feelings! she’s different from both kyo & yuki. So, with her subtle & symbolic scenes are enough!!!The viewers will catch it if you show it, but ignoring it, cutting it & hoping the viewers will magically predict what you cut, is weird. But the anime isn’t even into us predicting nor subtly showing her cuz this tohru is NOT the tohru we have in the anime. How?

Simply cuz there is no kyo’s inner thoughts abt small things such as tohru’s photo obsession which subtly shows her grief & trauma. If kyo didn’t monologue abt her, tohru does not exist as she’s meant to be. You loose the subtle insights into tohru if you cut kyo’s inner thoughts. Not everything kyo thinks abt in regards to tohru is romance!!! That’s a very narrow & superficial look into the writing of kyo/’tohru dynamics. Flip the pages, hmm..cut this kyoru scene here & there cuz we dont want the anime to be only their love story.. But the story itself IS NOT only their love story at all. These pages/scenes here are abt tohru as a PERSON. Not tohru the lover...

- Writing Clashes between manga & anime: (Kyo’s Conscious Gradual Psychological Exploration vs Shock Value & Drama)

In ch 90 i really love all the inner self talking that kyo’s doing. It really explains why he ended up rejecting tohru so strongly. Also, going for a trip into kyo’s mind is hella exciting, new, refreshing & full of analysis-worthy exploration! Kyo’s inner psychological argument with himself is a psychologically-informed presentation of a tried guilty mind:

“ Why can’t I stop thinking of (kyoko’s words) lately? Acknowledging that he IS remembering kyoko & never forgot her. This is also supported in the anime itself. When he apologized to a sleeping tohru in se01, ep14 & se02, ep9 , confronting yuki in the stairs & other instances as well. 

“ It’s like a lid been opened & all the memories came pouring”. Acknowledging that kyo DID open his lid since se02, ep9 byt chose to run & not confront it due to his guilt of ruining tohru’s happiness by confessing his connection to her mom. 

“ pretending I didn’t know, pretending I forgot”. Here is a blatant clash in kyo’s writing (1) between the anime & manga (2) between the anime’s episodes themselves!!. In the manga, again kyo chose to ignore & pretended to forget. Death is NOT sth you forgot. Kyo saw kyoko bleeding & dying.  The anime chose to make him totally forget & it could’ve worked if they didn’t included all the canon moments of him actually remembering & pretending to forget. Is that lazy writing? or was the director for se03 different from se 1 &2 &? chose to NOT watch the two previous seasons? Why would you consciously include a contradicting depiction of your character on screen for thousands of confused viewers? Was the scene of kyo’s shocked gave upon seeing kyoko’s photo that artistically appealing that you forgot everything? I really have NO problem of kyo forgetting kyoko if that was written in the anime since se01, but it wasn't. that's why it sucks. 

“Is this payback? maybe I want to blame ME?” augh! i love this line so much! Directly hinting to the viewers that this is kyo’s one-sided guilt before his story with kyoko even started! subtly paving the path for the reason of his rejection of tohru” I dont want forgiveness. I want to blame ME.

-I don’t mind that the anime left kyo’s thoughts of kyoko until the climax in eo8, cuz ep 8 was SO well-done! Se03, ep 8 pacing was very suitable to (1) uncovering dark secrets & death, trauma, & guilt. (2)  for exploring the effects such secrets on kyo’s character, decisions, mentality. Also, the animation of kyo’s face all ep 8 was one of the most expressive facial expressions the anime has ever delivered! The eyebrows, eyes, mouth, tears, body languages, heartache was all 100% perfect. The fact that the following eps didnt have much time to express everything & chapters were cramped is not ep 8′s fault but the decision to have 13 eps. Kyo’s delayed trauma deserved to have its own ep.

-What I DO mind is the added scene of ep 6 where he freaked out upon seeing kyoko’s picture, the concept of shock is perfect & so suitable for an anime but was NEVER properly written into the anime itself from the beginning. On the contrary, the anime itself contradict such usage of such value. Good job ruining an otherwise perfect-depiction of two traumatized characters (kyo & tohru) with ONE scene.. -_-

Side Notes:

I thought tohru is narrating the 1st page in ch-90, turned it out it is kyo!!!! Kyo narrates sth? Kyo monologues? kyo has a POV? Just the setting of kyo doing that feels different! I duno if it cuz when that happens in the anime it’s always clash & drama! lol, or cuz it’s sth original!

Shigure’s “ it’s broadcasted all over the nation” is epic! XD! you know poor stupid kyo would fall for that! XD. kyo, you really are an idiot! XD... man this scene would’ve been epic comedy~ lol.

Tohru not knowing what a “dvd” is is outdated for the anime, but to still keep the sentiment of “her wishing she’d have a video footage of her mom”, they could’ve replaced her words with “ It’d be fun watching this play years from now & remembering all the details”. I know that to some, it feels weird that tohru doesn't have video footage of her mom in this era. but trust me, this is more common than you might think. My late brother, who’s way younger than me, doesn't have much video footage, he always felt awkward & preferred not to be filmed. We got photos for him tho~

Even if you want kyo’s knowledge of kyoko to be in the climax only. You can always include this scene of tohru & kyo in the first pages in the anime somehow. It doesn't even need to be abt the dvd even tho that’s manageable. Cutting this short scene of them talking abt videos, & catching cold is cutting tohru’s trauma from its core. Then, the old grandpa’s narration from se03, ep6 would at least have some backup in the anime’s canon.

Momiji & shigure are perfect as a comedic duo!

I can’t get over tohru’s art~ <3

Pinning kyo at the beginning is epic~ kyo always gets the BEST romantic lines when he talks to himself. “ burning (tohru’s ) memories into my head or forgetting everything”. The torturing fire inside him is only distinguished by loving her but is also ignited by loving her~ what’s the solution~