#it's so cool that her form is so... abstract

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

ragatha is NOT abstracting* and i will bury myself six foot under that hill

* well , i don't think she'll FULLY abstract . _____

i know this may be shocking coming from Me , the ragatha angst enjoyer , who made an entire au where she's having a bad day 24/7 . i truly , do not believe that ragatha's going to get killed off . just . hear me out . sit down on this chair .

it's not even that she's my favorite character and i don't want her to die . the opposite , actually , i eat ragatha abstraction fanfics up . my problems are more ... well , it lies more on the writing .

first of all , let's remember what tadc is for a second ; it's a tonally hopeful show with messages about community and not being truly alone . even in episode 5 , where ragatha Goes Through It , it has a glimmer of hope through jax — where he finds a friend in pomni .

it's why i truly believe she'll have some form of positive development , because if Jax , the character that gooseworx said who's Most deserved to be stuck in the circus , can be happy ... then why couldn't ragatha ?

also . i Love assholes with repressed trauma as much as the next guy , but it'll be weird to make the guy who's been antagonistic to most of the cast thus far find more happiness than ..... the clearly-traumatized woman ...........

when you write a story with mentally ill characters and a hopeful message ... what does it say when you kill off one of them ? what does it say to the audience that relates to that character ? here's a hint — stuff that i would find IFFY to put in your show .

obviously , you can do literally anything as a writer , but picture this ; imagine setting up a character like ragatha . someone who has gone through abuse and a lot of trauma . desperate for a community to the point she grasps for any scraps of validation she gets . you put her in a show where every character find some form of hope in the situation they're in . she has shown herself to harbor some form of self-loathing .

by that point , you should see my problem with killing her off . once more : if she dies , what does it say to the audience who relates to that character ?

and now for my next question — what would it add to the show ? what message does it send and how does it add to the theme ? because ... any of the answers to those questions i can think of are NOT good answers considering the last paragraphs .

" it'll show that people truly cares even when you're gone " we'll have episode 2 again , but this time at the cost of a character we've gotten to know for the last five episodes . it'll make ragatha's time in the show a Total Waste . like cool , all she's been set up for the last five episodes is to Die ...

i sure do hope we don't have another dead character who tells the same message of people caring about you when you're gone and also had an entire funeral scene which will make all of this build-up so redundant — oh wait his name is kaufmo .

at that point you could just remove her and put kaufmo in her place , because it's just the Same Message being told . it'll be impactful to see a main character dying ... if that character isn't going to essentially make all of their scenes redundant in hindsight .

" it'll give the cast character development " but not ragatha ?? i will be real with you i will be so Mad if ragatha gets killed off as a catalyst for jax to have an epiphany or character development . like genuinely that would make me instantly drop the show , do Not get me started .

even then , the thing that's going on with ragatha thus far is her thinking nobody cares for her despite that it's the Opposite . by giving the other characters development instead of her in Her Own Arc is Terrible Writing and i'm not going to budge on that .

" it'll mark a tonal shift " an answer i'm slightly okay with , but let's take the above paragraphs again — it'll be iffy nonetheless . do i Love the idea of an unsatisfying character arc where it suddenly ends , therefore breaking the formula that's been set since the beginning ? yes ! would i love it in this specific case considering the context of the show and its themes ? very much Not !

i know these arguments are more of an opinionated , ' think of how that'll work into the story ' rather than actual proof , but when it comes to making predictions , the tadc fandom doesn't really stop and think about how it adds to a character or story beyond It'll Be Shocking . for this theory specifically , i can't see a Good narrative reason to kill off ragatha without stepping on at least one land mine . as someone familiar with writing stories with mentally ill characters — it'll get Weird quick !

do i accept that there could be a Tiny possibility that ragatha Does abstract ? absolutely . i do trust gooseworx's ability as a writer enough to Maybe make this sting less when it actually does happen , but i'll very much criticize it .

so ! i don't think she Wouldn't abstract 100% though . because by this point it's inevitable that she'll sink into the darkness in some way . keep in mind that Barely Anything goes right for this girl . i don't think she'll die , but a very public mental breakdown is inevitable . at most , i see a fake-out abstraction . you know . one where she gets pulled out of it at the last second . just to scare the fans .

personally , do you know what would be more impactful than a death ? a character that fully believes she'll die alone and unloved being proven Wrong . episode 5 has shown how the other characters Care for her . imagine her spiraling and thinking that nobody cares if she abstracts , only to realize that there are people by her side . shit that would actually make me cry , i'm not gonna lie .

she will get a BIG group hug and she'll cry and i would also cry and we crew and we crode and i don't know maybe i'll be wrong Shrugs let's see this post age like milk LOL

[aceyalonso]

make it rain - LEWIS HAMILTON

pairing : lewis hamilton x fem!reader kinktober day 14 - tattoos

summary : a little rain never hurt anyone... not until lewis almost breaks y/n's back (in a good way)

warnings/notes : swearing, smut, praise kink, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!!!), body worship, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, use of "baby" and "good girl"

word count : 5.3k

a/n : im ovulating

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

Y/n hurried through the rain-soaked streets, her hair plastered to her face. She pulled her red leather jacket tighter around herself, trying to shield as much of her body from the relentless downpour as possible. Beside her, Lewis was equally drenched, his shirt clinging to his muscular frame.

They reached the apartment building and rushed inside, slamming the door behind them. Y/n shook the water from her jacket before slipping it back on, her teeth chattering slightly from the cold. She ran a hand through her wet hair, pushing it out of her face.

Lewis glanced around the lobby, taking in the modern decor and sleek furnishings. "Nice place," he commented, his deep voice echoing slightly in the empty space.

She nodded in agreement, her gaze lingering on a particularly striking abstract painting on the wall. She started towards the elevators, eager to get out of her wet clothes and into something warm and dry. As she pressed the button, she couldn't help but steal a glance at Lewis from the corner of her eye.

Y/n's eyes roamed over Lewis's soaked form, taking in the way his wet shirt clung to his broad chest and defined abs. Even drenched, he looked incredibly handsome, his chiseled features and piercing gaze sending a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

She bit her lower lip, feeling a familiar heat pooling in her core as she imagined peeling off those wet clothes and running her hands over his glistening skin. Y/n quickly shook her head, trying to dispel the inappropriate thoughts. They had more important things to focus on right now.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Y/n stepped inside, motioning for Lewis to follow. As they ascended, she could feel the tension crackling between them, the small space suddenly feeling much too intimate.

Lewis cleared his throat, breaking the charged silence. "So, uh, which floor?" he asked, his voice a little rougher than usual.

Y/n shivered as the cool air from the elevator's AC unit washed over her damp skin. "Fourteenth floor," she replied, her teeth chattering slightly. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to generate some warmth.

As the elevator began its slow ascent, Y/n couldn't help but steal glances at Lewis. The way his wet clothes clung to his muscular frame was incredibly distracting. She wondered what it would feel like to run her hands over those defined abs, to trace the lines of his sculpted chest...

She blinked, realizing she had been staring at Lewis for an uncomfortably long time. Y/n quickly averted her gaze, focusing instead on the slowly climbing floor numbers above the elevator doors.

The ride seemed to stretch on forever, the two of them standing in awkward silence as they continued to shiver from the cold and the AC's relentless blast. Y/n's mind raced with thoughts of what awaited them on the fourteenth floor, but she couldn't quite shake the distracting images of Lewis's wet, half-naked body from her imagination.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Y/n practically lunged out into the hallway, desperate to escape the confines of the small space and the heated looks Lewis had been giving her.

Y/n hurried down the hallway, her keycard clutched tightly in her hand. She reached her apartment door and quickly unlocked it, stepping inside and holding it open for Lewis to follow. He entered behind her, closing the door with a soft click.

"Sorry about the mess," Y/n said apologetically, gesturing to the neatly folded clothes piled on her couch. It wasn't really a mess, just a temporary holding spot for the items she hadn't had a chance to put away yet.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Looks pretty tidy to me," he remarked, his eyes roaming over the pile of clothing. "Though I wouldn't mind helping you 'clean up' a bit more..."

Y/n felt her cheeks flush at the suggestive tone in his voice. She busied herself with hanging up her dripping wet jacket, trying to ignore the way Lewis's gaze seemed to burn into her back.

She shuddered as she peeled off her soaked leather jacket, the cold material clinging to her skin. She draped it over the back of a chair, not bothering to zip it up properly in her haste to get out of the wet garment.

Underneath, her thin tank top was practically transparent, molding to her curves and leaving little to the imagination. The leopard print of her bra was clearly visible through the damp fabric, the lacy cups barely containing her ample breasts.

Y/n paused as she felt Lewis's gaze on her back, his eyes no doubt drawn to the tantalizing glimpse of skin and lace. She tugged self-consciously at the hem of her tank top, suddenly very aware of how little she was wearing.

"I never knew you had a spine tattoo," Lewis remarked, his voice low and appreciative. "It suits you."

Y/n turned to face him, her cheeks flushed. She crossed her arms over her chest, acutely aware of how the movement pushed her breasts together, making them appear even fuller. "I don't necessarily advertise it," she said with a shrug, trying to play it off as no big deal. "I got it on a whim."

She smirked, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You of all people should know better than to be surprised by hidden ink. I seem to recall a certain someone having quite the collection themselves."

She sauntered closer to Lewis, her hips swaying with each step. When she reached him, she trailed a finger lightly down his chest, tracing the edge of one of his many tattoos. "What's the count up to now? Ten? Eleven?"

Lewis caught her wandering hand, his larger fingers engulfing hers. He brought her knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her skin. "Fifteen," he murmured against her hand. "But who's counting?"

Lewis plucked the dry shirt from Y/n's grasp, setting it aside on the couch with a suggestive smirk. "Maybe you can wear your clothes later," he purred, his hands coming to rest on her hips. "For now, I think I prefer you like this."

His fingers dipped beneath the hem of her tank top, grazing the soft skin of her lower back. Y/n shivered at his touch, goosebumps rising in the wake of his exploration. She leaned into him, her hands splaying across his firm chest.

"Is that so?" she breathed, tilting her head to expose the column of her throat. "And what exactly do you plan to do with me while I'm half-naked?"

Lewis chuckled, the sound low and full of promise. His hands slid around to her front, skimming over her ribs and coming to rest just below her breasts. "Oh, I have a few ideas," he murmured, his thumbs brushing maddeningly close to the swell of her cleavage. "But I think I'll let you decide how far we take this."

Y/n smirked up at Lewis, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I'll let you go far, alright," she purred, her fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. "But we need to be equal, don't we? So maybe you should take that shirt off too."

She stepped back, giving him room to maneuver. Her gaze raked over his body, lingering on the tantalizing glimpse of skin where his shirt had ridden up. Y/n licked her lips, her tongue darting out to moisten the plump flesh.

Lewis grinned, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. He made quick work of them, shrugging the garment off and letting it fall to the floor. His torso was a work of art, all hard planes and rippling muscle, adorned with intricate tattoos that told a story of his life.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she drank in the sight of him. Her fingers itched to explore every inch of his exposed skin, to trace the lines of his abs and feel the heat of his body against hers.

Lewis pulled Y/n flush against him, his lips crashing down on hers in a searing kiss. She melted into his embrace, her hands fisting in his hair as she returned the kiss with equal fervor. Their tongues danced and tangled, exploring each other's mouths with hungry abandon.

Y/n gasped as Lewis's hands slid down her back, gripping her ass and lifting her effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him as he carried her over to the couch. The pile of clean laundry went tumbling to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

Lewis laid her down on the cushions, his body covering hers as he continued to kiss her senselessly. His hands roamed over her curves, slipping beneath her tank top to caress the smooth skin beneath. Y/n arched into his touch, desperate for more contact, more friction.

He grinned as he noticed the "Lucky You" patch on Y/n's jeans. His fingers deftly unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, tugging them down her long legs. "Looks like I hit the jackpot," he quipped, tossing the discarded jeans aside.

Y/n started to make a comment about the fallen laundry, but her words were cut off by Lewis's lips on her stomach. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin of her abdomen, his stubble deliciously abrading her sensitive flesh.

Y/n's back arched off the couch, a breathy moan escaping her parted lips. Her hands tangled in Lewis's hair, holding him close as he worked his way lower. "Lewis," she gasped, her voice thick with need. "Please..."

Lewis hooked his fingers in the waistband of Y/n's panties, which matched her bra in a delightful surprise. He slowly dragged them down her legs, using his teeth to tug them off and leave them dangling precariously from her ankle.

With Y/n's hips lifted, Lewis settled between her thighs, his hot breath ghosting over her most intimate parts. He nuzzled her inner thigh, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin as he worked his way closer to his prize.

Y/n's moans filled the room as Lewis's tongue delved between her folds, lapping at her slick arousal. He circled her clit with the tip of his tongue before dipping lower, thrusting in and out of her tight channel. His hands gripped her ass, holding her steady as he feasted on her pussy like a starving man.

Lewis groaned against Y/n's pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. "Fuck, you taste so good," he mumbled, his words muffled by her slick folds. "Don't hold back, baby. I want to hear you."

Y/n's moans grew louder, echoing off the walls of the apartment. "Oh god, Lewis," she cried out, her hips bucking against his face. "Your ex was so lucky to have this mouth on her every day."

Lewis chuckled, the sound sending delicious vibrations through her core. He doubled his efforts, his tongue delving deeper, stroking her inner walls. His nose rubbed against her clit with each pass, adding an extra layer of stimulation that had Y/n seeing stars.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice rough with desire. "Let me hear how good I make you feel."

Y/n's moans grew louder and more desperate as Lewis continued his relentless assault on her pussy. "Oh fuck, Lewis, just like that," she panted, her fingers digging into his hair. "Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop!"

Lewis growled against her slick folds, the sound sending a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her veins. He sealed his lips around her clit, sucking hard as he thrust two fingers deep inside her.

"You like that, baby?" he asked, his voice rough with desire. "You like feeling my tongue on your pretty little pussy?"

Y/n nodded frantically, her hips rolling against his face. "Yes, fuck yes," she gasped, her thighs trembling with the effort of holding herself open for him. "I love your mouth, Lewis. I love how you make me feel."

Lewis slowed his movements, savoring the taste and feel of Y/n's pussy on his tongue. He wanted to draw out her pleasure, to make her beg for release. Y/n whimpered, her hips bucking against his face in search of more friction.

"Lew, please," she panted, her voice strained with need. "Go faster, it felt so fucking good."

Lewis chuckled, the sound vibrating against her sensitive flesh. He placed a final kiss on her inner thigh before pulling back, leaving Y/n aching and desperate for more.

"Patience, baby," he murmured, his fingers trailing lightly over her slick folds. "I want to savor every inch of you."

Lewis peppered Y/n's pussy with feather-light kisses, his lips barely grazing her sensitive skin. Each brush of his mouth against her slick folds sent electric jolts of pleasure racing through her body, making her moan loudly.

"Lewis, please," she whined, her hips twitching with the effort of staying still. "I need more, I need you inside me."

Lewis grinned against her flesh, his breath hot and teasing. "All in good time, baby," he murmured, his fingers dipping between her folds to circle her aching clit. "I'm going to make you cum so hard, you'll forget your own name."

Y/n's head fell back against the couch cushions, her hands fisting in the fabric as Lewis worked her closer and closer to the edge. She was so close, teetering on the brink of ecstasy, desperate for the final push over the precipice.

Y/n's moans grew more desperate, almost bordering on whimpers as she begged for Lewis to put his tongue back on her aching pussy. "Please, Lewis, I need you," she cried out, her voice raw with emotion. "I need your mouth on me, I need to feel you inside me."

Lewis obliged, his tongue delving between her slick folds once more. He lapped at her hungrily, his stubble abrading her sensitive skin in the most delicious way. Y/n's panties still hung precariously from her foot, a tangible reminder of how far gone she was.

Lewis's hands gripped her thighs, holding her open for his ministrations. He alternated between long, slow licks and quick, flicking motions against her clit, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice muffled against her pussy. "Let go, let yourself feel good. I've got you."

Y/n's body tensed, her back arching off the couch as the waves of her orgasm crashed over her. Her legs wrapped around Lewis's head, holding him in place as she rode out the intense sensations.

"Oh fuck, Lewis!" she cried out, her voice echoing off the walls. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

Lewis doubled his efforts, his tongue delving deep inside her as her pussy clenched and fluttered around the intrusion. He lapped at her slick folds, eagerly drinking down her essence as she came undone beneath him.

Y/n's fingers tangled in Lewis's hair, holding him close as she shuddered and twitched with the aftershocks of her climax. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, her skin glistening with a sheen of sweat.

Y/n gently pulled Lewis away from her sensitive pussy, a satisfied smile on her face as she took in the sight of him. His lips and chin were glistening with her arousal, his eyes dark with desire.

"You look so pretty like that," she purred, her voice husky with satisfaction.

Lewis grinned, crawling up her body until he hovered over her. He pressed soft kisses to her stomach, her ribs, the valley between her breasts. His hands roamed over her curves, mapping out every dip and curve.

"I could eat you out for hours," he murmured against her skin, his stubble delicately tickling her flesh. "You taste so fucking good, baby."

Y/n smiled against Lewis's lips as they kissed, her hands deftly working at the button of his jeans. She popped it open and slowly dragged down the zipper, her fingers brushing teasingly over the bulge straining against the denim.

"Take them off," she whispered against his mouth, her breath hot and inviting.

Lewis groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily into her touch. He sat back on his heels, allowing Y/n to tug his jeans and boxers down his legs. His cock sprang free, hard and heavy, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

Y/n licked her lips, her eyes hungrily taking in the sight of him. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, stroking him slowly from base to tip. "Fuck, you're so big," she breathed, marveling at the size of him.

She gathered some saliva in her mouth, letting it pool on her tongue before leaning forward and spitting it onto her fingertips. She wrapped her slick fingers around Lewis's cock, using her own spit as makeshift lube.

Lewis moaned, his hips twitching at the sudden sensation. "Fuck, that feels good," he groaned, his head falling back as Y/n stroked him slowly.

"I want to feel you inside me," Y/n purred, her voice low and seductive. She released his cock, shifting her hips to align him with her entrance. "I want you to fill me up, Lewis."

Lewis pulled back, a wicked grin on his face. "I want you on all fours," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "I want to see that tattoo while I fuck you from behind."

Y/n eagerly complied, rolling over and presenting herself to him. Her spine tattoo was on full display, the intricate design seeming to dance across her skin as she wiggled her hips invitingly.

Lewis ran his hands over her ass, squeezing and kneading the firm flesh. He positioned himself behind her, the head of his cock nudging against her slick entrance. With one powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, eliciting a sharp gasp from Y/n's lips.

"Fuck, you look so good like this," Lewis praised, his hands gripping her hips as he began to move. "That tattoo is so fucking sexy."

Lewis traced the intricate lines of Y/n's spine tattoo with his tongue, his lips pressing reverent kisses to her skin as he thrust into her from behind. Each word he spoke was punctuated by a deep, powerful stroke of his hips, driving his cock deeper into her slick heat.

"So... fucking... sexy," he groaned, his breath hot against her spine. "Love... this tattoo... love how it looks... on your perfect body."

Y/n moaned, pushing back against him, meeting each of his thrusts with equal fervor. The sensation of his lips and tongue on her tattoo sent electric shivers down her spine.

Lewis continued to praise Y/n, his words dripping with lust and admiration. "Fuck, you're so good for me," he groaned, his hips snapping against her ass with each powerful thrust. "Such a perfect, sexy little thing."

Y/n's hands gripped the couch cushions, her knuckles turning white as she held on for dear life. The pleasure was overwhelming, building and building until she thought she might explode.

"Cum for me, pretty girl," Lewis commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Show me how good I make you feel."

Y/n's body obeyed, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. She came hard, her pussy clenching and fluttering around Lewis's cock as she squirted onto the couch. Her moans filled the room, her hair falling in wild disarray around her face as she shook and trembled with the force of her climax.

Lewis grinned, praising Y/n as she came hard on his cock just as he told her to. "That's it, good girl," he groaned, his hips still rocking into her as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. "You did so well, cumming just like I wanted."

Y/n's moans were loud and promiscuous, echoing off the walls of the apartment. Her body shuddered and twitched, her pussy clenching rhythmically around Lewis's shaft.

As her climax began to subside, Lewis pulled out, his cock slick with her juices. He stroked himself quickly, his hand flying over his shaft as he chased his own release. With a final grunt, he came, his seed splattering across Y/n's back and painting her tattoo in pearly white streaks.

Y/n collapsed forward onto the couch, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She was a sweaty, disheveled mess, her hair matted and sticking to her forehead. But the satisfied smile on her face said it all - she had thoroughly enjoyed every moment.

Lewis gently rolled Y/n onto her side, concern etched on his face as he brushed a few strands of hair from her flushed cheek. "Are you okay, baby?" he asked softly, his thumb caressing her skin.

Y/n nodded, a lazy smile spreading across her face despite her labored breathing. "Mhm," she managed to get out, her voice hoarse from all the moaning. "I'm more than okay."

She shifted slightly, her leg brushing against Lewis's thigh. The contact sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through her veins, and she knew she wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot.

"I think," Y/n began, her voice low and seductive, "I think I need a round two."

Lewis gently flipped Y/n onto her back, his strong hands guiding her until she was sprawled out on the couch cushions. Y/n let out a small protest, her brow furrowing in concern.

"Lew, wait," she said, her voice breathless. "I want this, but... my couch is gonna get dirty."

Lewis silenced her with a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth. When he finally pulled back, he gave her a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry about it, baby," he murmured, his fingers trailing down her side. "I'll take care of it later. Right now, all I want to do is make you feel good."

Lewis's fingers traced delicate patterns over Y/n's sensitive pussy, eliciting a soft whimper from her lips. The delicate folds were puffy and tender from their previous activities, but that didn't stop Lewis from exploring every inch of her.

"Shh, relax," he cooed, his other hand coming up to gently stroke her hair. "I've got you, baby. Just let me make you feel good."

His fingers dipped lower, teasing her entrance before slowly pushing inside. Y/n gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily at the intrusion. Lewis held her down with a firm hand on her hip, his fingers curling and stroking her inner walls.

"That's it, just like that," he murmured, his voice low and encouraging. "You're doing so well, taking my fingers so deep. Such a good girl for me."

Y/n moaned softly as Lewis's fingers continued their gentle exploration of her sensitive folds. "Your rings are cold," she whispered, her voice tinged with a mix of discomfort and arousal.

Lewis leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. "You can handle it," he murmured against her mouth, his fingers never ceasing their movements. "You're a good girl, aren't you?"

Lewis groaned, his fingers still buried deep inside Y/n's slick heat. "Fuck, I should've done this sooner," he admitted, his voice rough with desire. "I'm getting addicted to how good you feel, baby."

He curled his fingers, stroking her inner walls in a way that made Y/n see stars. Her hips bucked against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction.

"You like that, don't you?" Lewis purred, his thumb circling her clit. "You love having my fingers inside you, stretching you open."

Y/n let out a breathy moan, her hips rolling against Lewis's hand as he continued to work her over. "Yes," she gasped, her voice strained with pleasure. "I was so jealous of your ex, hearing you guys fucking while you were in the studio."

Lewis grinned, his fingers pumping in and out of her slick heat. "You should've been there with me," he growled, his thumb pressing down on her clit. "Should've been the one taking my cock, screaming my name."

Y/n moaned wantonly, her body writhing beneath Lewis's skilled touch. "Lewis, fuck that feels so good," she panted, her hips bucking against his hand. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Lewis chuckled, his fingers never ceasing their relentless assault on her sensitive folds. "I won't stop, baby," he promised, his voice low and rough with desire. "I'm going to make you cum so hard, you'll forget your own name."

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body trembling under Lewis's touch. "I was so jealous of your ex," she confessed, her voice breathy and strained. "I wanted it to be me, to have you all to myself. To feel your tongue worshipping my body."

She emphasized her words with a roll of her hips, grinding against Lewis's fingers. "I wish it was me, Lewis. I wish I could've been the one to make you feel good, to hear you moan my name."

A wicked chuckle escaped her lips as she added, "It's her loss for breaking up with you. Because now, I have you all to myself."

Lewis grinned, his fingers still buried deep inside Y/n's slick heat. "Mhm, it's such a win for me," he agreed, his voice low and rough with desire. "Now I have you, all to myself. So good, so tight, so fucking mine."

He punctuated his words with a particularly deep thrust of his fingers, eliciting a sharp gasp from Y/n's lips. Her walls clenched around him, as if trying to keep him inside her forever.

"You feel so perfect, baby," Lewis murmured, his thumb circling her clit. "Like you were made just for me. And now, I'm never letting you go."

Y/n's body tensed, her back arching off the couch as her orgasm approached. "I'm gonna cum," she panted, her voice strained with pleasure. "Lewis, I'm gonna cum!"

Lewis held her close, his fingers never ceasing their relentless assault on her sensitive folds. "That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice low and soothing. "My good girl, squirt for me. Let go, let yourself feel it."

With a final cry of ecstasy, Y/n came undone, her body shaking and trembling as she squirted onto Lewis's hand. He worked her through it, his fingers and thumb stroking her through the waves of her climax.

"That's it, just like that," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. "You're doing so well, baby. Such a good girl for me."

Y/n's moans grew louder as Lewis continued to pump his fingers in and out of her sensitive pussy, even as she rode out the waves of her intense orgasm. "Lewis, stop," she pleaded, her voice strained. "It's too much, I can't take it anymore."

But even as the words left her lips, Y/n found herself grinding against Lewis's hand, her hips moving of their own accord. The overstimulation was almost too much to bear, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.

Lewis grinned, his eyes dark with lust. "You're such a pretty liar," he teased, his fingers never ceasing their relentless assault. "Your body doesn't lie, baby. It knows what it wants."

As if to prove his point, Y/n came again, her pussy clenching and fluttering around Lewis's fingers as she squirted onto the couch once more. The sensation was almost too intense, but Lewis held her through it, his fingers and thumb stroking her through the aftershocks of her climax.

Y/n was still shaking from the intensity of her orgasms, her body sensitive and overstimulated. Lewis rubbed the head of his cock against her slick folds, teasing her entrance with the promise of more.

"Do you want me inside again, baby?" he asked, his voice low and rough with desire. "Do you want to feel my cock stretching you open, filling you up?"

Y/n nodded slowly, her eyes glazed with lust. Despite the sensitivity, she craved more of Lewis, more of the pleasure only he could give her.

"Yes," she breathed, her hips lifting to meet his. "Please, Lewis. I need you inside me."

Lewis slowly pushed forward, his cockhead parting Y/n's slick folds. He went inch by inch, savoring the tight heat of her pussy as it enveloped him. Y/n moaned, her walls fluttering around his length, still sensitive from her previous orgasms.

"Fuck, so good baby," Lewis groaned, his hips rocking shallowly. "You feel like heaven wrapped around my cock."

He set a slow, teasing pace, pulling out almost completely before sliding back in. Y/n whimpered, her hips lifting to meet his, desperate for more. Lewis grinned down at her, loving how responsive she was to his touch.

Y/n arched her back off the couch, her body undulating with each slow, deep thrust of Lewis's cock. "Oh god, Lewis," she moaned, her voice high and breathy. "Feels so good, so deep. You're hitting all the right spots."

Her hands fisted in the couch cushions, her knuckles turning white as she held on for dear life. Each drag of Lewis's cock against her sensitive walls sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body, making her whimper and praise him.

"Yes, just like that," she panted, her hips rolling to meet his thrusts. "Don't stop, please don't stop. I need more, need you deeper."

Lewis moaned Y/n's name, his hips snapping forward as he drove into her. "Fuck, baby, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "Not even my ex could make me feel this good."

At the mention of his ex, Y/n felt a twinge of jealousy. She tightened her walls around him, clenching down on his cock. "Well, you might as well moan out her name if you keep bringing her up," she said sarcastically, her tone a bit sharp.

Lewis grinned, undeterred by her comment. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. "I'm not thinking about her," he murmured against Y/n's mouth. "I'm only thinking about how perfect you feel wrapped around my cock."

Lewis thrust sharply, making Y/n moan loudly. "You don't need to worry, baby," he assured her, his voice low and soothing. "I'm not thinking about anyone else but you. You're the only one who makes me feel this way."

To emphasize his point, Lewis changed his angle, hitting a spot deep inside Y/n that made her see the heavens. She cried out, her back arching off the couch as pleasure coursed through her veins.

"Oh god, right there," she panted, her nails digging into Lewis's shoulders. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Lewis grinned, his hips snapping forward in a relentless rhythm. He could feel Y/n's pussy fluttering around his cock, her walls tightening with each thrust. He knew she was close, and he was determined to push her over the edge.

Lewis continued to thrust into Y/n, his cock hitting all the right spots inside her. Her breasts were still constrained by her bra, the lacy fabric a tantalizing contrast to her flushed skin.

"Fuck, your tits look so good from this angle," Lewis groaned, his eyes dark with lust. "Maybe later, I'll bury my face in them, suck on those perfect nipples."

His words of praise sent Y/n over the edge, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm. She came hard, her pussy clenching and fluttering around Lewis's cock as she squirted onto the couch.

"Oh god, Lewis," she cried out, her voice strained with pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Lewis pulled out of Y/n, his cock still hard and throbbing. He stroked himself quickly, his hand flying over his shaft as he chased his own release. With a final groan, he came, his seed splattering across Y/n's stomach in thick, white ropes.

Y/n lay there, panting and trembling from the aftershocks of her intense orgasm. She looked down at the mess on her stomach, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.

"Mmm, you made quite the mess," she purred, her voice low and seductive. "But don't worry, I'll clean it up later."

Lewis grinned, leaning down to capture her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. "I'll help you clean up," he murmured against her mouth. "And then, maybe we can go another round."

Y/n laughed, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her intense orgasms. "My pussy can't handle another round," she admitted, her voice breathy and strained. "You've worn me out, Lewis."

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii

kinktober masterlist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world @lewishamiltonismybf

[tojipie]

I love your prison bf toji series so much!! Also, in the newest installment of the series Toji says that Shiu has had a crush on the reader for a while? I’d love to see how this crush developed, how Toji found out and how Shiu dealt with his feelings!!

ughhhhgghgg i love this prompt so much :(( bless your heart you’re a genius <3

prison bf toji series linked here <3

context ! -> fic takes place very early on in reader and toji’s relationship. this is pre-prison and at a point where he hasn’t introduced him to his men yet :D hopefully this makes sense !

content: fem reader, brief piv smut, mentions of incarceration, objectification of reader by stranger, fluff, they make up dw ! jealousy, angst, unrequited love

purple hickeys bloom across your chest as toji makes his way from shoulder to shoulder, pinching bouts of delicate skin between his teeth while length ruts into you.

the drag of his cock is delicious, hitting that special spot at just the right angle from the way he has you laid out on the couch, both legs thrown over his shoulder with your head propped up on a cushion.

toji was always like this after securing a deal at work, soft, sensual, taking his time with your body as an act of celebration. half-empty glasses of champagne still lie on the coffee table where you’d left them, leaving rings of cool sweat on the glass surface.

“gonna cum,” he groans, pulling away from your neck with a pop and blowing cool air against the saliva-soaked hickey. you squirm at the stimulation, throwing your head back as your high creeps up on you t— was that a key in the door?

toji pulls out of you with unmatched speed, reaching for a couch cushion to shield his manhood. he rucks a throw blanket over your body with a string of curses, using his massive build to hide the silhouette of your body from view. 

“what’d i tell you about waltzing into my fucking house?” your boyfriend yells, staring down the suit-clad stranger with a look that screams blood-lust.

the smile that breaks out on the man’s face is nothing short of filthy, eyeing you up and down like a piece of meat

“awww didya get us a hooker boss-man?” he sneers, cigarette hanging from his lips. “could’ve waited till i showed up to start but i’m down for whatever.” he laughs, gingerly placing a pristine briefcase on the coffee table before taking your discarded bottle of champagne as a parting gift.

“don’t have too much fun, alright?” he teases, stepping out the door as quickly as he’d come in.

the two of you are speechless for several minutes, looking back and forth between each other, the door he didn’t even bother to close, and the mystery briefcase you’re not sure you want to see opened. 

toji sits up with a string of curses, stalking over to kick the door shut with a sigh. 

“that’s.. shiu,” he mumbles, clearly embarrassed. 

you sit up from your spot on the couch, letting the blanket guarding your modesty slip down to your waist. toji settles down on the opposite side of the couch, arms outstretched to let you climb onto his naked form. 

“handles money,” he clarifies, tracing abstract shapes onto your spine. “my cut from today is in the case.”

“do you trust him?” 

he nods, resting his head in the crook of your neck with a sigh.

you figure that’s all you need to know.

˚ ✧ ──────────────────────

the apology shiu gives you the next time you meet goes on for ten minutes. variations of “fuck i didn’t know” and “i’m so so sorry i really am” spill from his lips while he bows at your feet, forehead firmly pressed to the wood floor of your dining room.

toji sits at the head of the table, shoveling bites of dinner into his mouth in between heart laughs.

“mmf— tell her again i don’t think she heard ya.”

the truth is you’d kind of forgotten about your boyfriend's right hand after the incident was over. was the hooker comment uncalled for? sure, but judging by the saturated fear in the suit-clad man’s eyes you figure toji had done something to set him straight.

plus you’d both gone two more rounds after the initial embarrassment had died down, making up for the little roadblock on your path to an orgasm. 

“it’s okay, promise,” you say quietly, not entirely sure what to say at this point. the suit-clad man stands again, bowing to both of you with a sigh. 

“now give her our little present,” toji says, stalking over with his arms crossed. 

a sealed bottle of champagne— the same kind he’d so graciously swiped from your home— is placed in the palm of your hands before you’re able to question either of them. 

you shoot the other man a greatful smile, and shiu realizes he quite likes the feeling of your soft hand shaking his.

˚ ✧ ──────────────────────

toji’s annual new year party was a sight to behold. alcohol, dancers, and booming music was the typical atmosphere, though the event had taken a complete turn once you’d entered the picture. 

gone were the days of loose dollar bills and stray panties littering the floor, the smell of sex and smoke in the air.

in were the days of… a modest bar and fancy catering, much to his men’s dismay.

toji didn’t quite know how to throw a party that could be deemed “professional” but he figured not having strippers at the house might’ve been a step in the right direction. some of the guys even brought their wives this time, fun right?

and so, toji sits toward the back of the room, watching you socialize with a drink in hand, his best friend beside him. 

tension hangs in the air as both men watch you from afar. one with pride, the other with longing.

“do you want her?”

“… what?”

toji doesn’t elaborate on the cryptic question, peering at his friend over the rim of his glass.

shiu pauses, downing the rest of his drink as he thinks of what to say. a warm hand settles on the meat of his shoulder, letting him know it’s ok.

“yeah man, i do,” he admits, too ashamed to look up from the floor.

greed. the word that’d graced toji’s knuckles since the day he turned 19. black ink needled into a canvas of tan skin, bleeding into the rest of the tattoos like water flowing upstream. 

it fit him perfectly. it did then, and it does now. toji always gets what he wants, regardless of how other people feel. a man overcome by what he believes he deserves. 

the hug he’s pulled into isn't filled with malice. the threat of violence isn’t there, unlike the time toji had taken him by the collar and threatened to gut him like a fish over the comments shiu had made the first time he met you. 

this hug is.. soft. inviting. an embrace that tells him “it’s okay, i trust you.” the fact that toji hasn’t bashed his nose into his skull is a telltale sign that there’s no fault in feeling the way he does, so long as he doesn’t act on it.

shiu truly doesn’t know what to say other than yes, he does want you. he wants you to be the one he comes home to each night, he wants your soft skin on his, wants to spoil you and make you smile.

you were kind, attentive, shy at times. the complete opposite of toji and his brutish demeanor. a flower cradled in the hand of a dragon.

but you weren’t his, and you never would be. not when toji had been the one to sweep you off your feet, securing a place for himself in your heart that shiu could never fill. 

and that was ok. he was here for his job, not you. shiu was fine with you being oblivious to his feelings, in fact, it was better that way for the three of you.

that’s exactly why he breaks away from the hug as you pad over to their table, shooting you both an apologetic smile before heading over to the bar. as long as he’d still be able to catch a glimpse of you every now and then, he’d live. 

edit: forgot abt the taglist oopsies 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82 @freebananabeard @vivian-555 @kentokaze @subarusuguru @aroxwq @i-literally-cant-with-this @emikokomura @moonriseoverkyoto

[rraaaannnn]

Summary: All Minji did was stop some books from killing a nerd.

It's clear that I put effort into the picture😝

— fem reader🧍🏽‍♀️

It was too early for public humiliation.

YN muttered a quiet curse under her breath as she adjusted her crooked glasses for the third time. She stood in the far corner of the university library, struggling with a stubborn book lodged high on the shelf. Her hoodie sleeves were pulled over her hands, her expression pinched in frustration. She knew she could’ve asked for help—but she didn’t do help. She did solitude, sarcasm, and a healthy dose of avoiding all human interaction.

With a determined huff, she stepped up on the very bottom edge of the shelf, fingers stretching toward the book she absolutely needed for class.

Bad. Idea.

With a terrifying creak and a swift betrayal by gravity, three other thick volumes gave up on life and came crashing down toward her head. Her eyes widened, body frozen, mouth opened in a silent scream—

—and then, arms.

A warm, solid arm curved around her shoulders just as the books slammed into the air where her skull should’ve been. Her back was pressed against something—or someone—tall, strong, and inexplicably citrus-scented.

“What—” YN gasped, blinking up into—

No. Freaking. Way.

Kim Minji.

The girl who had a fan club without even trying. Who looked good doing nothing. The cool, tall, “of course she plays basketball and gets straight A’s” type. Universally loved. Universally not in YN’s life. Until now.

Minji raised an eyebrow as she looked down at YN, a crooked half-smile forming. “You okay? You looked like you were about to become one with the Dewey Decimal System.”

YN pushed her glasses up in a flustered panic and immediately scowled, stepping away as fast as she could manage. “I had it under control.”

“Sure you did.” Minji crouched to pick up the fallen books. “These just volunteered to attack for no reason.”

YN grabbed one of the books and clutched it to her chest. “I didn’t ask for help.”

Minji handed her another book, unbothered. “You also didn’t die. You’re welcome.”

YN turned, ready to disappear into a hole—or at least the nearest exit—but Minji followed her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I’ve seen you around, right? You’re in that, uh... abstract painting class that smells like turpentine and sadness?”

YN narrowed her eyes. “How would you know what sadness smells like?”

Minji grinned, undeterred. “It’s a talent. I’m Minji.”

“I know who you are,” YN muttered, already walking away.

Minji kept pace beside her. “Cool. So, who are you?”

YN sighed. “Someone who’s trying to study alone.”

“Noted.” Minji gave a mock salute but didn’t leave.

YN stopped in her tracks. “Why are you still following me?”

Minji tilted her head, like she was trying to figure something out. “Because, I don’t know… You look like the kind of person who forgets to eat while studying. And fall off ladders. You might need supervision.”

YN’s jaw dropped. “I’m not a hazard.”

Minji just shrugged, lips twitching like she was holding back laughter. “Could’ve fooled me.”

YN groaned loudly. “Unbelievable.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Minji said brightly, and for some reason—annoyingly—YN’s heart skipped a beat.

YN absolutely hated mornings. She hated mandatory events even more. But what she hated the most… was walking into a crowded auditorium where the only thing louder than the echo of her footsteps was the collective energy of people who actually wanted to be there.

A university-wide “Vision Conference.” Whatever that meant. Probably just another excuse for the administration to hand out tote bags and pretend they cared about student input. She dragged her feet inside the hall, hoodie half-zipped, earbuds dangling but not even playing anything. It was her last line of defense—if people thought she was busy, maybe they’d leave her alone.

She scanned the room. Packed. Great.

Some overenthusiastic emcee at the front was already shouting into the mic about student potential and growth and future excellence. YN tuned them out instantly.

Her eyes locked on the one safe space: the very last row, right by the wall. Perfect. Shadowed. No chatty people. Minimal eye contact.

She made her way toward it, clutching her water bottle and notebook like a shield. But as she weaved between knees and backpacks, her boot caught the strap of someone’s oversized designer tote.

Of course she stumbled.

Her arms flailed like a windmill in crisis, and she mentally braced for impact—

Again.

Except... again, it never came.

Because of course.

Because standing there—like some guardian angel with a basketball scholarship and a smug smile—was Kim Minji.

Again.

“Do you fall a lot, or do I just have amazing timing?” Minji asked, holding YN upright by the elbow like she didn’t just appear out of thin air like a protagonist.

YN blinked up at her, stunned. “Are you stalking me?”

Minji tilted her head, smirking. “Please. If I were stalking you, I’d know not to sneak up while you’re about to faceplant.”

“I wasn’t going to fall!” YN snapped, yanking her arm free and immediately regretting it because she nearly lost her balance again.

Minji caught her again, with one arm, like it was nothing. “Yeah. Super stable.”

“Stop catching me!” YN hissed, cheeks burning.

“I’d love to,” Minji said cheerfully. “But you keep launching yourself into the floor.”

Several students in nearby seats turned to look, curious about the chaos in the back. YN shrunk into herself, mortified.

“Just—go sit with your fan club,” she muttered, finally making it to the empty chair and throwing herself into it like a sack of bricks.

To her horror, Minji didn’t move.

In fact, she sat down right next to her.

“What are you doing?” YN whispered, horrified.

Minji leaned back in the chair, arms crossed behind her head like she owned the place. “Keeping an eye on you. Safety hazard, remember?”

“I am not a safety hazard.”

“Tell that to the bookshelves. And the tote bag. And gravity.”

YN groaned and buried her face in her hands. “This is a nightmare.”

“Then why is it kind of fun?” Minji said, glancing sideways at her with that maddening sparkle in her eyes.

“Stop smiling at me,” YN muttered.

“Can’t. It’s a reflex when I see you trip over your own feet.”

YN looked away, jaw clenched, but her ears were glowing red. She didn’t respond—and Minji didn’t push.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence as the presentation continued, filled with overly enthusiastic buzzwords and PowerPoint animations no one asked for.

Then Minji leaned over and whispered, “Bet you ten bucks the next speaker says ‘innovation’ at least seven times.”

YN blinked, then... almost smiled—before catching herself. She elbowed Minji lightly instead.

“Shut up.”Minji grinned, victorious

The laundry room smelled like lavender detergent and bad choices.

YN pushed open the heavy basement door with her elbow, her laundry basket balanced on her hip like a baby she didn’t ask for. Her hoodie sleeves were rolled up, hair tied in a messy bun, and oversized glasses sliding down her nose. It was already a bad day, and the last thing she needed was other people.

She let out a long sigh when she saw it: only one washing machine free.

She marched toward it like a soldier in battle, muttering to herself. “Just ten minutes. In, out, peace.”

But when she got there—

Click.

The door to the machine shut just as her fingers touched the handle.

YN blinked.

A beep. A cheerful whirr.

No.

She slowly turned her head, and there she was.

Sitting casually on the folding table, legs crossed, back leaning against the wall like a scene from a youth drama, was Kim. Freaking. Minji.

She had her AirPods in, a half-eaten granola bar in one hand and a book in the other. She looked cozy. Calm. Incredibly annoying.

YN stared at her in disbelief. “Are you serious.”

Minji looked up, startled, and paused her music. “Hey.”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me.” YN gestured dramatically at the machine. “I was literally reaching for that.”

Minji tilted her head, blinking innocently. “I didn’t see you. You move real quiet for someone who walks like she hates the ground.”

YN’s jaw dropped. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Minji just grinned. “You want me to cancel the wash and give it to you?”

“Yes,” YN said, without hesitation.

“Too bad,” Minji replied, hopping off the table and walking over to the dryer. “Laundry rule #2: First come, first wash.”

“There are rules?” YN groaned, setting her basket down with unnecessary aggression.

“Yeah,” Minji said, opening the dryer and pulling out a hoodie. “Rule #1: Don't bleach your roommate’s black shirt unless you’re ready to move out.”

YN sighed dramatically and sat on the edge of the empty counter next to the vending machine. “I hope your machine explodes.”

Minji glanced back, folding a sweatshirt neatly. “It’s not the machine’s fault you’re late.”

“I wasn't late. I was precisely on time. The universe just hates me.”

Minji chuckled, stuffing clothes into a laundry bag. “Maybe it’s trying to throw us together.”

YN looked at her, deadpan. “Is that a pickup line or a threat?”

“Would you prefer a threat?” Minji’s voice was light, teasing.

YN didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled out her phone and began scrolling aimlessly, pretending not to notice the way Minji leaned casually against the washing machine now, looking at her instead of her book.

Minutes passed like that—soft humming of machines, awkward silence, and that quiet tension hanging in the air like steam.

Then Minji casually said, “So… Do you always sort your laundry by color like a perfectionist, or is that just a nerd thing?”

YN raised a brow. “I am a nerd.”

“Yeah,” Minji said, smiling. “It’s cute.”

YN choked on her own breath. “Excuse me?”

“I said it’s cute,” Minji repeated with absolutely no shame. “Your whole glasses-wrinkled-shirt-angry-girl-who-knows-how-to-fold-socks vibe.”

“I’m not angry,” YN protested, clutching her water bottle defensively.

“You literally just wished death on my washing machine.”

“You deserved it!”

Minji let out a real laugh then—low, genuine, relaxed. The kind that filled the echoey room and made YN’s face go hot. She hated how nice it sounded. She hated how warm she felt.

“I’ll be done in like…” Minji checked her watch. “Seven minutes. You can have the next machine.”

“Wow,” YN muttered. “So generous.”

Minji leaned closer, elbow resting on the machine. “Or… we could share.”

YN looked at her, appalled. “I’m not mixing my laundry with a stranger.”

Minji shrugged. “I’ve seen you trip three times. We’re not strangers anymore. We’re a recurring event.”

YN tried to hold back the smile tugging at her lips. “You are so annoying.”

“Yet here you are,” Minji said with a wink. “Again.”

The campus bookstore was unusually crowded that day. A new shipment of specialty notebooks had arrived—something about recycled paper, limited cover art, and QR codes that linked to calming lo-fi playlists. In other words: Gen Z bait.

YN didn’t care about the trend.

She just needed one decent notebook to replace the one that got coffee-bombed earlier that week. (Still a sore subject.)

She ducked inside the shop, sleeves tugged over her hands, hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside. Her glasses fogged up instantly, and she muttered under her breath while trying to wipe them clean on the edge of her hoodie.

“Ugh. This is fine. Totally fine. I love communal humidity.”

Navigating between displays, she headed to the back wall where the last stack of the limited edition sketch notebooks sat on a shelf—glorious, untouched, perfectly organized.

She reached for the top one—

“Whoa, déjà vu.”

The voice made her freeze.

She knew that voice.

She despised how familiar it was becoming.

She turned slowly to find Minji—again—standing across the display, holding the same exact notebook, her smile far too pleased.

“Are you following me?” YN accused immediately.

Minji raised an eyebrow. “This is a public bookstore. You’re not the main character, Nerdy.”

YN blinked. “Did you just call me—”

“Nerdy? Yeah,” Minji said, flipping the notebook cover open and inspecting the pages. “You’ve got the glasses, the emotional damage, and the tendency to argue with shelves. It fits.”

“I do not argue with shelves,” YN snapped.

Minji didn’t even look up. “The laundry room shelf still hasn’t recovered from what you said to it.”

YN looked skyward, as if asking the ceiling to take her. “Why do you keep showing up everywhere I go?”

“I think you’re underestimating how much you go where I go,” Minji replied easily.

“I’m not stalking you!”

“Never said you were,” Minji said with a grin. “But you’re definitely consistent.”

YN groaned and turned to leave with the notebook clutched in her hands—but not before Minji noticed which one she picked.

“Of course you went with the one with the tiny constellations,” Minji teased, falling into step beside her. “Very on brand.”

“Why are you walking with me?”

“Because I’m bored,” Minji replied. “And maybe I like watching you pretend you’re not flustered every time we run into each other.”

YN stopped in her tracks. “I’m not flustered.”

“Sure, Nerdy.”

“Stop calling me that.”

Minji tilted her head, pretending to think. “Hmm… Nah.”

YN glared at her. “Do you just collect nicknames for people you annoy?”

“No,” Minji said, taking her notebook to the counter. “Just for the ones I like.”

YN blinked. Hard.

Like actually froze-in-place kind of blink.

Minji was already halfway through paying when she turned back around and saw YN still standing in the same spot, eyes wide.

She smirked.

“Relax. It was a joke,” she said with a shrug. “Unless you want it not to be?”

YN didn’t answer—mostly because she couldn’t remember how to use words at that moment.

Instead, she quietly walked up beside her, placed her notebook on the counter, and muttered under her breath, “You’re so annoying.”

Minji bumped her shoulder lightly. “You keep saying that. Yet here we are.”

It was already a mistake.

YN knew it the second she stepped into the tiny, overly warm on-campus café. The lights were dimmed to “emotional damage” levels, and fairy lights were strung across the ceiling like someone tried too hard. A sign near the door read: "Open Mic: Pour Your Soul or Go Home."

She absolutely should have gone home.

But her roommate had begged her to come. “Come on, YN, it'll be good for your soul or whatever. You’ve been staring at that same brushstroke for five hours.” And like an idiot, she caved.

Now she stood awkwardly near the espresso machine, clutching a cup of lukewarm tea and trying to pretend she didn’t want to disappear.

A girl onstage was reciting a poem about being left on read. Someone in the crowd actually snapped their fingers in response.

YN grimaced. “I hate this timeline.”

“Wow. That’s the most dramatic reaction I’ve heard and you’re not even on stage yet.”

YN froze.

No way.

Not again.

She turned slowly—and of course.

Minji.

In jeans, a black bomber jacket, hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside, and that same cocky smile like she was here for entertainment—and YN was the show.

Minji wasn’t alone this time. Behind her was a whole squad of chaos:

Yunjin, who wore headphones around her neck and smirked like she knew everything about everyone.

Hanni, who was already waving excitedly at someone across the room and half-spilling popcorn.

Jiwon, the fashion major who looked like she’d stepped off a runway and was judging the fairy lights.

“Please tell me this is a simulation,” YN muttered, sipping her tea like it had answers.

Minji just laughed, nudging her shoulder. “What, you don’t like poetry?”

“I don’t like people.”

“Fair,” Minji said, then motioned toward her group. “Come on. You already look miserable alone. Might as well suffer near us.”

Before YN could protest, Minji had already grabbed her by the wrist—lightly, casually, like it was no big deal—and was pulling her toward a corner booth where her friends were camped out.

“Guys,” Minji announced as they sat down. “This is Nerdy.”

YN nearly choked. “Don’t call me that in front of people!”

But it was too late.

Yunjin grinned. “Nerdy? I love her already.”

Hanni scooted over excitedly. “Hi! You’re so pretty! Do you write poems? Can you write one about bread?”

Jiwon just raised an eyebrow, unimpressed but curious. “So this is the girl Minji keeps talking about.”

Minji’s face didn’t even twitch. She just sipped her iced Americano.

YN turned to her sharply. “You talk about me?”

“Only when it’s relevant,” Minji said. “Like gravity. Or fate. Or sudden disasters.”

YN buried her face in her hands.

But despite the embarrassment, she didn’t leave.

She stayed.

Because the energy around the table was stupid and chaotic and oddly warm. Yunjin made dry jokes under her breath, Jiwon kept critiquing every poem with fashion metaphors (“This piece has strong 2019 Pinterest vibes”), and Hanni kept offering everyone snacks from her oversized tote bag.

Minji, meanwhile, kept leaning closer to YN every time someone read a dramatic poem, whispering sarcastic commentary:

“Oh my god, he said ‘I am the moon, and she was the tide.’ That’s, like, peak Tumblr 2014.”

“Ten bucks the next one mentions ‘rain’ as a metaphor for depression.”

“Okay wait… that one was actually kind of good.”

At one point, the host called out, “Anyone else want to sign up for the mic?”

And Hanni—traitor—shot her hand up and pointed at Minji. “SHE DOES!”

The crowd clapped automatically.

Minji looked stunned. “What the hell, Hanni?!”

YN burst into real laughter for the first time that night.

Minji narrowed her eyes. “You're enjoying this, Nerdy.”

“Absolutely,” YN grinned.

Minji stood up with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

She walked up to the mic, stuffed her hands in her pockets, and with no prep, said:

“This poem is called: ‘I wasn’t supposed to be here tonight, but then I saw someone trip on a bookshelf and now I can’t stop showing up.’”

The crowd laughed.

YN blinked, caught off guard.

Minji smiled—not at the crowd. At her.

It was raining. Again.

Not the dramatic storm kind, but the annoying drizzle that clung to your clothes and made everything feel damp and inconvenient. YN tugged her hoodie tighter, adjusting the sleeves over her hands as she jogged toward the small ramen shop tucked between two convenience stores near campus.

It was one of those hidden places that didn’t even have a sign—just a flickering neon bowl in the window and the smell of broth that could bring tears to your eyes. It was comfort food for tired students and broke souls. Exactly what she needed.

She pushed the door open and stepped into the warmth. The bell above the door gave a soft chime.

The place was full. Great.

There were barely any seats left, and the one corner booth that she usually claimed was already occupied by a group of students who looked like they were planning a group project—or maybe a coup.

She glanced around quickly, hopeful.

Then saw it.

One empty seat. At a two-person table. Already taken on one side by— Oh, come on.

Minji.

Sitting casually, long legs crossed under the table, chopsticks in hand, already halfway through a steaming bowl of ramen. Her hair was slightly damp, strands curling at the edges. She wore a grey hoodie under her jacket and looked like she’d just wandered out of a music video.

YN considered walking out.

Truly. She turned toward the door.

“Don’t even think about it,” Minji said without looking up.

YN froze.

Minji raised her eyes, one brow lifted. “There’s nowhere else to sit. Come on, I don’t bite.”

YN narrowed her eyes. “You absolutely bite.”

Minji shrugged. “Only people who deserve it.”

“Perfect. I’ll eat standing.”

Minji slurped some noodles, completely unbothered. “Suit yourself. But the owner does get passive-aggressive if people loiter.”

And as if on cue, the ahjumma behind the counter shouted,

“You eat, or you leave!”

YN groaned and shuffled over to the table, dropping her bag and sitting across from Minji with all the grace of someone being punished by fate.

“Thanks,” she muttered dryly. “I love being stalked by you across campus.”

“Right,” Minji said, chewing slowly. “Because you totally invented this ramen place, and I just followed your scent like a wolf.”

YN gave her the most exhausted glare she could muster. “You are unbelievable.”

“And yet,” Minji said, pointing to her with her chopsticks, “you’re still sitting here. Across from me. Again.”

YN huffed and waved at the owner for a menu, refusing to meet Minji’s eyes.

“You always eat ramen alone?” Minji asked after a moment.

YN didn’t look up. “You always talk this much?”

Minji leaned back, stretching her arms behind her head. “Only when I’m bored. Or entertained.”

The menu arrived. YN ordered the extra spicy bowl, mostly out of spite. Minji raised an eyebrow.

“Spicy?” she asked. “Didn’t take you for a masochist.”

“I didn’t ask you to take me for anything.”

Minji smirked. “I’m just gathering data. Nerdy’s got layers.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Never.”

Silence fell for a while as they waited for YN’s food. The rain pattered gently against the windows. The warm yellow lights made everything feel slower, softer.

And for a moment... it wasn’t so bad.

Minji tapped her chopsticks against the bowl. “You know, I don’t usually like sharing meals with people.”

YN looked up in surprise. “Why not? You’re everyone’s favorite.”

Minji shrugged. “Too much talking. Too many expectations. I don’t like pretending to care about shallow stuff.”

YN blinked. “That’s surprisingly honest of you.”

“You bring it out of me,” Minji said without missing a beat.

YN stared at her, suspicious. “That... sounds like a pickup line.”

Minji just grinned. “Wouldn’t work anyway. You’re immune.”

YN’s ramen finally arrived—red, steaming, dangerous.

Minji leaned in slightly. “You sure you can handle that?”

YN broke apart her chopsticks with the confidence of someone lying to herself. “Watch me.”

One bite later, she regretted everything.

Her eyes watered instantly, face turning red.

Minji burst out laughing. “Oh my god. You’re dying.”

“I’m fine,” YN coughed, grabbing her water.

“You’re not fine. You’re actively ascending.”

YN glared at her between gulps. “Shut up.”

Minji handed her a napkin, still laughing. “You’re cute when you suffer.”

YN nearly spit out her water. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Minji said, smiling. “You’re just really fun to mess with.”

And as the rain continued outside, they sat together—two stubborn souls, sharing warm food, sarcastic banter, and something neither of them would admit just yet.

By the time they left the ramen shop, the rain had gotten heavier. Not storm-heavy, just that steady kind that soaked through your sleeves and made the world smell like wet asphalt and fresh beginnings.

YN tugged her hood over her head, but it was too late—her hair was already damp. She groaned quietly, pulling her sleeves over her hands as she stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Beside her, Minji was unfazed. Hands in her pockets, face tilted slightly up to the sky like the rain didn’t bother her at all. She looked annoyingly cinematic, like she belonged in a slow indie film with Korean subtitles and lo-fi music playing in the background.

They walked in silence for a moment, the only sound being their footsteps on the wet pavement and the cars whooshing by on the road.

Then Minji broke the quiet, as usual.

“So,” she said, kicking at a puddle. “That wasn’t horrible.”

YN glanced at her. “The ramen or your company?”

“Both.”

YN smirked. “Well… you’re tolerable in small doses.”

Minji grinned. “Wow. The highest praise I’ve ever received.”

They turned a corner toward the main road where a few taxis idled under the shelter of a bus stop. YN spotted one with its light on and picked up her pace a little.

“Hey,” Minji said behind her. “Before you go—what’s your actual name, anyway?”

YN slowed just a little. “It’s YN.”

“That’s it? No middle name? No tragic backstory attached?”

YN rolled her eyes. “Just YN.”

Minji stepped closer, smirking. “Still gonna call you Nerdy.”

“Don’t.”

“Too late. It’s branded now. You even respond to it.”

“I do not respond to it.”

Minji leaned in just a fraction. “You literally turned your head in the ramen shop when I said it.”

YN stopped in front of the taxi, hand on the door. “I was trying to figure out if I should throw miso in your face.”

“And yet,” Minji said, stepping beside her with a slight shrug, “you didn’t.”

YN shook her head and opened the door, then paused.

Minji tilted her head. “What?”

Without a word, YN reached behind her, shrugged off the black hoodie Minji had tossed over her shoulders when they left the shop earlier, and handed it back—folded clumsily but warm from her body heat.

Minji blinked. “You could’ve kept it. It looks better on you.”

“I don’t borrow things from people who call me Nerdy.”

“Ouch.”

YN smiled faintly, already half inside the car. “Well... Thanks for the meal. Or the seat. Or whatever.”

“Anytime,” Minji replied, taking the hoodie with a slight grin.

YN closed the door, rolled the window down halfway, and leaned out slightly as the taxi started to move.

She gave a casual wave, as if they hadn’t just spent the weirdest, warmest evening together. As if she hadn’t just memorized Minji’s stupid smile.

“Bye, Minji,” she said, emphasizing her name teasingly.

Minji stood on the curb, hoodie in hand, rain still falling softly around her. She didn’t say anything—just lifted one hand in a lazy, smug wave.

But as the car pulled away, she watched it go with something restless in her chest.

A hum.

A flicker.

Something that felt like… “See you soon, Nerdy.”

Even if she didn’t say it out loud.

YN had made a very clear decision when she entered college: no sports. ever.

She hated noise. Hated uniforms. Hated the very concept of teamwork. (Also? She once got hit in the face with a volleyball in middle school PE and never emotionally recovered.)

So how, exactly, did she end up standing at the edge of the university’s indoor basketball court, clutching a bottle of water like it was a weapon?

It started when she got dragged by her roommate to “watch the legendary Kim Minji at practice, just for fun.” Apparently, it was a thing—Minji’s practices often attracted a crowd. There was even an unofficial fan club:

Front row girls with matching headbands

A dude with a DSLR zoom lens the size of his arm

And one girl actually holding a handmade sign that said:

“Minji, step on me (respectfully) 💘”

YN had rolled her eyes so hard it hurt.

She had every intention of hiding in the back row of the bleachers and sketching quietly on her iPad. Until the coach’s voice boomed across the gym:

“We’re short a player for the scrimmage—anyone want to volunteer?”

And before YN could process what was happening—

“She’ll do it!” Minji’s voice. Loud. Clear. Pointing straight at her.

YN nearly dropped her water bottle. “WHAT—?”

Too late. The coach waved her in. Minji was already jogging toward her with that damn smirk on her face.

“Come on, Nerdy. Let’s see if you’re useful outside of sarcasm.”

YN whispered harshly, “I don’t do sports!”

“You’ll be fine. Just run around and pretend you care.”

YN found herself somehow in gym shorts (borrowed, too big), standing awkwardly on the court, surrounded by tall, intimidating athletes and... Minji, who looked completely at home, spinning the ball on one finger like a showoff.

The scrimmage started.

YN didn’t run so much as she panicked while moving forward.

She got in people’s way, ducked instinctively every time someone passed the ball, and screamed once when someone just looked like they were about to throw it at her.

The team was wheezing with laughter.

“MINJI! YOUR GIRL’S GOT DEFENSIVE MOVES LIKE A CRAB!” “CAN WE GET A HELMET FOR HER?” “YO, FAN CLUB, CHEER FOR HER TOO!”

Even the fan club started chanting:

“NE-RDY! NE-RDY!”

YN wanted to dissolve into the floor.

Minji, of course, was thriving. Effortless dribbling, perfect form, tossing the ball in with a casual flick that made people in the bleachers scream.

Every time Minji passed near her, she’d throw in a smug:

“Having fun yet?”

YN’s answer was always a death glare.

But then... it happened.

Someone threw a clumsy pass from behind. YN—too shocked to react—just stood there.

The ball flew past her ear.

Minji shouted, “Watch out!” and ran to intercept—only it was too fast, too close, and—

CRASH.

They collided.

Hard.

The ball bounced somewhere off-court. People gasped.

Minji instinctively grabbed YN’s arms to keep her from falling completely—but the momentum pulled them both down to the floor in a heap.

And just like that…

Silence.

The gym faded. The laughter stopped. Even the fan club paused.

Because suddenly, Minji was on top of YN, both breathless, tangled limbs and pounding hearts.

Their faces—

Centimeters apart.

Minji’s hands were braced on either side of YN’s shoulders, her breath hot and fast. YN’s glasses were askew. Their eyes locked.

And stayed locked.

Too long.

YN’s voice came out barely a whisper:

“…ow.”

Minji blinked. Her voice was weirdly soft.

“You okay?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Neither moved.

Not yet.

Minji’s eyes flickered—YN’s flushed cheeks, the rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips parted slightly like she wanted to say something but couldn’t. Her breath hitched. Just a little.

It was the closest they’d ever been.

Closer than teasing. Closer than sarcasm. Real.

And that was what made it terrifying.

The spell broke with a loud whistle.

“YOU TWO GONNA MAKE OUT OR GET UP?” someone from the team yelled.

The gym exploded in laughter.

Minji’s ears turned red. She scrambled up quickly, brushing her hair back.

YN just lay there for another second, staring at the ceiling, silently begging the universe to end her.

Later, outside the gym, Minji caught up with her near the vending machine.

“Hey.”

YN didn’t look at her. “Don’t.”

Minji grinned. “You didn’t completely die.”

“I literally got tackled by a basketball and you.”

“You’re welcome,” Minji said, handing her a sports drink. “For the hydration and the trauma.”

YN took it silently, cheeks still pink.

Then, softer: “Thanks... for catching me. Again.”

Minji glanced sideways at her, smirked.

“It’s becoming a habit. Guess I just like falling into you.”

YN choked. “Minji—!”

Minji only laughed, turning away, her voice echoing in the hallway.

“Nice fall, Nerdy.”

The moment YN woke up, her brain kindly played the memory of Minji’s face hovering inches from hers on repeat. Again. And again. And again.

The way her hair had fallen into her eyes. The way her voice softened when she asked, “You okay?” The way their noses almost touched—

“NOPE.” YN flung a pillow at the ceiling and rolled out of bed like it had betrayed her.

This was fine. She would go to campus. Avoid Minji. Pretend the incident was a dream. Maybe she hallucinated it from sodium overload.

9:22 AM — Art Building Courtyard

YN ducked behind a stone pillar, clutching her iced coffee like a weapon.

Minji was standing across the courtyard with some friends, her bomber jacket slung over one shoulder, laughing at something Jiwon said. She looked carefree, magnetic… exactly how she always did.

YN didn’t even mean to stop and stare. It just… happened. For like, three seconds.

Five.

Maybe eight.

Until Minji turned, as if she felt the stare— and locked eyes with her.

YN’s soul left her body.

She ducked back behind the pillar so fast she hit her own elbow.

“Nope. Nope. Just a ghost. She didn’t see me. That wasn’t real.”

She spent the next ten minutes taking the long way around campus to avoid passing within five meters of Minji.

11:03 AM — Library

YN tiptoed into her favorite section and crouched behind the philosophy shelf, clutching a book she didn’t intend to read.

Safe.

Alone.

Until—

“Are you hiding from me, or do you just like creeping next to Nietzsche?”

YN’s blood ran cold.

She turned slowly.

Minji was leaning on the opposite shelf, one hand in her pocket, smirking like she’d just discovered YN’s search history.

YN cleared her throat. “I’m not hiding.”

“Oh really? Because you ducked behind a literal pillar earlier. I thought you were reenacting a spy movie.”

“I was just… admiring the architecture.”

“In the opposite direction?”

“Yes.”

Minji stepped closer. “Is this because I tackled you?”

YN stepped back, hitting the shelf. “You fell on me.”

Minji shrugged. “Tomato, tomahto.”

Silence.

Too much eye contact again.

YN stared at the floor. “I just didn’t sleep well.”

Minji tilted her head. “Was it… the emotional damage? Or the physical proximity?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Minji grinned. “You’re blushing, Nerdy.”

“I’m literally not—”

“You are.”

YN pushed past her, muttering. “God, you’re so annoying.”

Minji followed her, slow and smug. “You keep saying that, but you never leave.”

“Because you keep showing up!”

“Maybe I like watching you panic.”

YN spun to face her. “Why?!”

Minji’s smirk flickered, just for a second. Something real passed behind her eyes.

She leaned in. Not close, but… closer than necessary.

“Maybe it makes me feel something.”

YN blinked. “What?”

Minji leaned back with a shrug, already turning away.

“Anyway. I’ll see you in class, Nerdy.”

YN stood frozen in place, heart hammering against her ribs like a drum solo.

She whispered to herself, “What the hell is she doing to me…”

Later That Day — Cafeteria

YN finally sat with her roommate, trying to zone out and eat in peace.

Then, out of nowhere, a tray slid next to hers.

She didn’t have to look.

Minji sat beside her, biting into an apple like she belonged there. Then casually, softly:

“You still taste like blushing.”

YN almost choked on her rice.

Minji reached out and handed her a napkin without a word. When their fingers touched—just briefly—

It was worse than yesterday’s fall.

Because now, she was aware. Every breath. Every graze. Every heartbeat. Louder. Closer. Realer.

“Remind me again why I’m awake before sunrise and holding a hiking backpack?” YN muttered, adjusting the strap on her shoulder with the enthusiasm of a hostage.

Besideها, her roommate—Sohee—beamed like she was going on a honeymoon.

“Because you never go out, you live like a vampire, and I’m worried for your social development.”

“I’m perfectly developed. Socially deficient, by choice.”

They reached the university bus parking lot, where students were already milling around, chatting and loading their bags. A large chartered bus waited with the engine running, its front plastered with a big printed sign:

“Faculty Cross-Department Nature Retreat: Art x Media x Sports”

YN groaned. “I can already feel my soul dying.”

Sohee shoved a paper into her hands. “Group B. Sit wherever. It’s a two-hour ride, so make friends or at least don’t bite them.”

“Zero promises.”

Inside the bus, it was already buzzing with energy. Someone was playing K-pop quietly from a speaker in the back. A couple of athletes were throwing snacks across seats. Fan club girls had already claimed the row behind the driver and were whispering excitedly while scanning the aisle.

YN climbed aboard and scanned for the least chaotic spot. Spotting a window seat halfway back beside a quiet-looking student from media studies, she slid in without a word and immediately put in one earbud.

Safe.

She slouched, pulled her hoodie up, and stared out the window. If she ignored everyone long enough, they might forget she existed.

But of course, peace doesn’t last when Minji’s fan club is within a 20-foot radius.

The bus erupted in noise as soon as Minji boarded.

Cheers, claps, and someone actually gasped. Minji walked down the aisle, unbothered as ever, wearing a black baseball cap low over her eyes, hoodie sleeves pushed up, and a duffle bag slung casually over one shoulder.

“Why is she dressed like a main character…” YN muttered under her breath.

Fan club girl #1:

“Minji-unnie! Sit with us!”

Minji gave them a small wave, barely smiling. “I’ll find a spot.”

She passed YN’s row. Didn’t glance. Didn’t stop.

Good.

Forty minutes in.

The bus had settled into soft chatter and occasional snoring. YN had almost managed to doze off, forehead resting lightly against the window.

Until—

“We’re stopping for a break! 15 minutes!” The bus driver’s voice echoed through the speaker.

The bus jolted slightly as it turned into a rest station.

YN blinked awake, grumbling, and followed the crowd off the bus to stretch her legs.

Sohee appeared out of nowhere with a coffee and handed it to her.

“Drink. You look like you fought sleep and lost.”

“I did.”

As she wandered toward a vending machine, Minji passed her in a soft jog, earbuds in, doing small stretches like she wasn’t made of bones and fatigue.

YN tried not to look. She really did.

But the way Minji flicked her ponytail, took a long sip from her water bottle, then leaned against a railing with her head tilted back— It was criminal.

YN huffed and looked away.

Back on the bus.

The seat beside YN… was taken.

Great. Someone had filled it while she was out.

She turned, looking for an open spot. Everything toward the back was now filled. A group of three girls had merged into two seats. Someone had their feet stretched out.

Then—

“There’s a spot here,” a voice said behind her.

She turned and froze.

Minji. Sitting alone. Patting the empty seat beside her.

YN opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “Why?”

Minji tilted her head. “Why not?”

“The fan club will start a petition to assassinate me.”

Minji leaned back casually. “Let them try.”

YN stood awkwardly, debating. Her old seat was gone. Everyone else was paired.

Minji gave her a slow smile.

“Come on, Nerdy. I won’t even talk if you don’t want.”

YN groaned and slid in beside her. “Only because I have nowhere else to go.”

Minji shrugged. “Sure, let’s call it that.”

Ten minutes later, they were back on the road.

The bus vibrated gently under them, mountains rolling by through the window.

They sat in silence at first.

Minji was looking out the window, one earbud in, foot tapping lightly.

YN stole a glance at her.

Minji’s profile was… calm. Unbothered. Like nothing could shake her. Like falling nose-to-nose yesterday didn’t faze her at all.

YN turned her gaze back forward and sipped her coffee.

“You really didn’t want to sit next to me, huh?” Minji said suddenly, voice soft.

YN tensed. “I didn’t say that.”

Minji looked at her, eyes narrowed playfully. “You said everything but that.”

YN hesitated. “You’re… distracting.”

Minji raised a brow. “That’s a compliment, right?”

YN flushed. “No. It’s a warning.”

Minji chuckled, low and warm.

“Well, Nerdy… we’re stuck on this ride for another hour. Might as well get used to being distracted.”

The bus finally rolled to a stop at the retreat site — a cozy mountain camp nestled between pine trees and misty hills. The crisp air bit gently at everyone’s cheeks as they stepped out one by one, stretching, yawning, groaning.

YN rubbed her eyes and looked up at the cloudy sky. “Great. Nature. Dirt. Cold. Love this.”

Sohee bounced beside her, camera out already. “Don’t be grumpy! Look how peaceful this place is.”

“Peaceful until the mosquitoes find me.”

In front of them, a staff member was setting up a whiteboard. She banged a metal triangle loudly for attention, like this was summer camp for overworked adults.

“Alright everyone! We’re assigning tents now. Two people per tent. Grouped randomly from the sign-up list. No swaps!”

YN whispered, “Please not Minji. Please not Minji. Please not Minji—”

“Group 4,” the staff called. “Kim Minji and... YN.”

Complete silence.

YN stared blankly at the board. Minji, standing a few feet away, looked over her shoulder with the most smug face YN had ever seen.

“The universe is getting bold.”

One of the fan club girls gasped dramatically. “WHAT?!”

Another muttered under her breath, “There must be a mistake. Minji-unnie wouldn’t voluntarily—”

Minji ignored them completely and strode toward YN with her duffel bag, stopping just a foot away.

“Guess we’re roommates now. Try not to kill me in my sleep.”

YN looked up at the sky. “Take me, Lord.”

Their tent was small, beige, and way too intimate. It had just enough space for two sleeping bags side by side. Maybe six inches apart.

Minji tossed her bag down on the left side, flopped back like this was her private studio apartment.

YN stood at the entrance, still clutching her backpack like a shield.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” Minji asked, head tilted.

“This is a nightmare.”

Minji smiled. “You say that, but you still came on the trip. Must be fate.”

“I was blackmailed by my roommate.”

“Fate with extra steps, then.”

YN finally threw her bag down on the right side and sat, arms crossed.

Outside, they could hear the others setting up nearby. Laughter, gossip, zippers opening and closing, someone struggling with a lantern.

From just beyond their tent, a whisper:

“I heard Minji was smiling when she read the tent list.”

“Do you think she likes her??”

Minji and YN froze at the same time.

YN whispered, “Do they not know we have ears?”

Minji grinned. “Let them wonder.”

“You enjoy this, don’t you?”

Minji turned her head slowly toward her. “What, sharing a tent with you? The best sleepover I never asked for.”

YN glared. “I hope you snore.”

“I hope you talk in your sleep. I’m curious what secrets are locked up in that head.”

They stared at each other for a beat too long.

Then—

“CAMPFIRE IN TEN!” someone shouted outside.

Minji stood up, stretching. “Let’s go, Nerdy. I’ll save you from the mosquitoes.”

YN sighed. “Can you save me from yourself?”

Minji smirked. “Unlikely.”

By the time the sun dipped behind the trees, the campfire was already crackling, painting everyone’s faces in warm orange light.

Students gathered in a messy circle, legs crossed, marshmallows in hand, mugs steaming with cheap cocoa.

Minji flopped onto one of the camp chairs like she owned the mountain. YN stood at the edge of the group, clearly evaluating if this was worth her social energy.

Sohee tugged her arm.

“Come on, just sit! Stop hovering like a socially anxious bat.”

“I am a socially anxious bat.”

“Then come hang upside-down next to Minji, Batgirl.”

Before YN could object, Sohee shoved her into the only empty spot. Right beside Minji.

Again.

Minji looked over, casually raising an eyebrow.

“Look who’s back. Can’t stay away from me, huh?”

“I was forced. This is a crime.”

Minji offered her a marshmallow on a stick without a word.

YN narrowed her eyes… then took it.

The first activity started: “Pass the Question” — someone spins a bottle, and whoever it points to has to answer a random prompt.

The bottle spun wildly.

Landed on Minji.

Jiwon grinned. “Alright, superstar. The question is… Describe your type.”

Minji didn’t flinch. She sipped her cocoa.

“Someone who doesn’t annoy me.”

The entire circle booed dramatically.

“That’s too vague!” “Cliché!” “Be specific!”

Minji smirked. “Fine. Someone smart. A little weird. Quiet but secretly deadly.”

Someone laughed. “You mean like… a cat?”

YN, trying not to react, sipped her cocoa like her life depended on it.

Minji glanced sideways at her. “Yeah. Like a cat.”

A few rounds later, the bottle spun again— and landed on YN.

“YEAHHH let’s gooo!” someone shouted.

Question:

“What’s your most embarrassing school memory?”

YN blinked. “...There’s a list.”

“Pick one!”

She hesitated. “...In 10th grade, I accidentally entered the boys' bathroom, panicked, ran into a urinal, knocked it off the wall, and then slipped.”

The circle exploded in laughter.

Sohee was wheezing. “You told me it was a faucet!”

Minji leaned in closer.

“You broke a urinal?”

YN groaned. “Please bury me in this fire.”

Minji grinned, voice low:

“That’s iconic, Nerdy.”

Later that night, everyone broke off into mini-groups.

Some were roasting marshmallows. Others doing riddles. A group was playing “Guess Who” — where they stuck post-its on each other’s foreheads with a name, and had to guess who they were.

“Sit here!” someone from media waved at Minji.

“No—sit here!” her fan club chirped, patting the log beside them.

Minji ignored them, walking straight to where YN sat cross-legged on the ground, doodling idly in a small notebook.

Without asking, she sat beside her.

“Busy drawing how much you hate this trip?” Minji asked.

YN didn’t look up. “No. Drawing ways I could disappear.”

Minji peeked over. “That’s… actually kinda cool.”

Just then, someone tripped over a rock near them and fell forward— accidentally bumping into Minji—

Who fell sideways—

Straight into YN’s shoulder.

Both froze.

Minji didn’t immediately move. Neither did YN.

Their heads were practically touching.

Silence.

“...You’re warm,” Minji murmured.

YN, heart hammering: “That’s because you landed on me.”

Minji didn’t apologize. Just leaned back slowly, that unreadable smile on her lips.

From across the fire, someone whispered, “Are they flirting? Or about to fight

The next morning started with a megaphone and far too much energy.

“WAKE UP CAMPERS! Stretch, hydrate, and meet at the flagpole in fifteen!”

YN sat up in the tent with a groan. Her hair was a mess, her back ached from the thin sleeping bag, and Minji… Minji was already up, stretching outside like a human anime protagonist.

Sohee passed by with a protein bar. “Minji’s already awake? Of course she is. Did she even sleep?”

YN stepped out, blinking at the sunlight— only for Minji to toss her a water bottle without turning around.

“Drink before you pass out, Nerdy.”

YN caught it, scowling. “Thanks, I guess.”

The first activity was a group hiking challenge.

Teams of five had to follow a marked trail, collect puzzle pieces hidden at waypoints, and return in under an hour.

YN tried very hard to be placed on any team but Minji’s.

It didn’t work.

The coach called out:

“Team Three: Minji, YN, Sohee, Jiwon, and Lina.”

YN stared at the trees like they were the gates of doom.

Minji shouldered her backpack with a grin.

“Don’t worry. I’ll carry your body down if you pass out.”

Sohee whispered, “Why does she say stuff like that like it’s sweet?”

Thirty minutes into the hike,

YN was sweating, breathing harder than she wanted to admit, and absolutely regretting all life decisions.

“Why. Are. There. So. Many. Hills.”

Jiwon looked back. “You okay back there?”

“I’m fine!” she snapped—just as she tripped on a root.

Before she could hit the ground, Minji caught her by the wrist, pulling her upright with one quick movement.

Their faces were close again. Too close. Familiar close.

Minji tilted her head. “That’s twice now.”

YN muttered, “Stop catching me like I’m fragile.”

Minji replied without thinking, “You are fragile.”

Silence.

YN looked away quickly. “I’m not made of glass.”

Minji, softer this time:

“No. But you walk like you're allergic to the ground.”

Later, at the clearing,

The teams had a short break. Everyone spread out on blankets, eating snacks and chatting.

One of Minji’s admirers approached YN with a sugary voice:

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be here? This is more for, like, active people.”

YN raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I didn’t realize gatekeeping fitness was trendy now.”

The girl pouted. “Just saying. Wouldn’t want you to slow anyone down.”

Before YN could snap back, Minji walked up behind her—slow, calm, dangerous.

She stepped right beside YN and said simply:

“She didn’t slow anyone down. I was watching.”

The girl blinked. “Oh—I didn’t mean—”

“Yeah, you did.” Minji’s voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.

The girl shrank away with a nervous laugh and scurried off.

YN blinked up at her. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Minji sat beside her on the blanket. “Sure I did. That was my job.”

YN narrowed her eyes. “Since when is it your job?”

Minji looked at her like the answer was obvious.

“Since you keep needing saving.”

Final activity: Sketch & share.

All students were told to find a view, sketch something they felt described the trip, and present it to the group.

YN sat on a rock, pencil in hand, drawing the surrounding forest—but her focus kept slipping.

Minji walked up, tossing a snack into her lap.

“Eat something.”

“I’m fine.”

Minji sat behind her this time, back against a tree, arms crossed.

YN tried to draw. But her mind kept returning to the way Minji caught her earlier. The way she stood up for her. The quiet comfort of her presence now—even saying nothing.

“Minji.”

“Hm?”

“Why are you always near me?”

Pause.

Minji opened her eyes, voice low, teasing.

“Maybe I just like your gravitational pull.”

YN snorted. “That’s not how gravity works.”

“It is when it’s you.”

The late afternoon sun began to dim behind the trees as the last activity of the day commenced: "Solo Exploration." Pairs were given small paper maps and told to collect colored tokens placed along a short forest loop trail. "Short" being a very generous word.

Minji and YN were—of course—paired again.

“It’s only a fifteen-minute loop,” the staff reassured. “You’ll be back before sunset!”

Spoiler: they were wrong.

Ten minutes into the trail, the path had become narrower, rockier, and completely unmarked.

YN held the map upside down. “This is either a hiking route or a prank.”

Minji leaned in to glance. “You're holding it backwards, Nerdy.”

“I’m not used to manual orientation! My GPS is emotional support.”

Minji took the map gently from her hand. Their fingers brushed. YN didn’t comment, but her heart did a little skip.

“We’ll figure it out,” Minji said, folding the map and tucking it in her pocket. “Just stay close.”

And for once—YN didn’t argue.

They walked in silence for a while. The forest around them grew quieter… thicker.

The path forked, and Minji took the left instinctively. YN followed, careful not to step on anything slippery.

But then the wind shifted, the trees creaked— and the trail ended.

Like, fully. Gone. No signs. No markers. Just ferns and shadows.

YN stopped, chest tightening slightly. “Wait… this isn’t right.”

Minji scanned the area. “We didn’t turn wrong…”

YN spun. The way they came now looked… unfamiliar. The light had changed. The air felt colder.

“Okay. Slightly terrifying.”

Minji pulled out her phone.

No signal.

“Cool,” Minji muttered. “Nature’s so welcoming.”

YN folded her arms, trying to stay calm. “Okay, it’s fine. We’re probably not lost-lost.”

Minji raised a brow. “Define ‘lost-lost.’”

Just then— A loud crack echoed nearby. Like a branch snapping hard.

Both of them froze.

YN instinctively moved closer, almost pressed against Minji’s side.

“…That was probably a squirrel,” she whispered.

Minji smirked, voice low. “A demon squirrel?”

“Shut up.”

They kept walking—slowly, now.

Minji lit her phone’s flashlight and held it out.

YN shivered slightly as the air grew chillier, evening creeping in fast.

“…Here.” Without warning, Minji shrugged off her hoodie and draped it over YN’s shoulders.

YN blinked. “What are you—”

“You’re cold. Your shoulders were tense. I noticed.”

YN clutched the hoodie tighter. It smelled like detergent, pine trees… and Minji.

Her voice softened. “Thanks.”

Eventually, they reached a mossy log and sat for a moment to rest. Everything was quiet now, almost too quiet.

YN leaned forward, elbows on knees. “I always hated being lost.”

Minji watched her. “You panic?”

YN shook her head. “No. I just hate not knowing where I stand.”

She wasn’t just talking about the trail.

Minji picked up a small twig, twirled it between her fingers.

“You always try to control things, huh?”

“Only because I’ve seen how messy people are when they don’t.”

Minji gave her a look. “You're not one of those ‘people are disasters’ people, are you?”

“I am the disaster. I just try to limit the damage.”

Silence. Then:

“I like your damage,” Minji said quietly.

YN turned to her slowly.

Their eyes met. Neither looked away.

A cool gust of wind passed, and YN shivered again without meaning to. Minji noticed.

She leaned slightly closer, shoulder brushing against YN’s.

“You okay?”

YN nodded, but her voice came out small. “Yeah.”

Minji didn’t move away.

They sat like that a moment too long. Close. Warm. Uncertain.

And then—

YN quietly reached out and held Minji’s hand.

It was small. Almost nothing.

But Minji didn’t pull away.

Her thumb gently brushed against YN’s knuckles.

Neither of them spoke.

Because words… would’ve broken whatever this was.

Eventually, voices in the far distance echoed—staff calling names.

They stood, still hand-in-hand for a beat longer, then let go as if nothing had happened.

But something had.

By the time Minji and YN made it back to the campsite, the sky had gone deep blue and the stars had started to blink through.

They emerged from the treeline quietly—calm, walking close, a little dirt on their knees, leaves tangled in their hair.

The fire was already lit again. The others turned at the sound of footsteps.

Then—

“They're ALIVE!” Sohee practically shouted, clutching her chest dramatically. “I thought we’d have to call mountain rescue!”

Jiwon grinned. “Where the hell were you two? It's been, like, an hour and a half.”

YN opened her mouth, but Minji answered first.

“We took a wrong turn. It was... scenic.”

Lina raised a brow. “You mean romantic?”

Minji didn’t respond. She just walked past them all, brushing leaves off her shoulders. YN followed, flustered, head slightly lowered.

But the fan club girls?

Laser-focused.

One of them whispered, way too loudly:

“They came back together?” “They weren’t even talking last week!”

Another one crossed her arms. “Minji’s probably just being nice. Like always.”

As if on cue, Minji turned, looked directly at them—then right back at YN.

And smiled.

It wasn’t a wide smile. Not smug. Not sarcastic.

Just... soft.

Like she was seeing something no one else did.

YN froze in place.

Her heart: not beating. Her brain: rebooting. Her body: floating.

And everyone noticed.

Later that night, the campsite quieted. The stars stretched across the sky like scattered wishes. Inside tent 4, everything was dim. Soft. Breathing slow.

YN lay on her back in her sleeping bag, eyes fixed on the ceiling of the tent.

Minji lay a few inches away, hands behind her head, staring at nothing.

Silence.

But it wasn’t awkward.

It was loud in its own way. Like every breath was saying what mouths couldn't.

Finally, Minji spoke, voice hushed.

“Are you mad I dragged you off trail?”

YN turned her head slightly. “You didn’t drag me. I followed.”

Minji looked over. “You didn’t have to.”

YN’s voice was quiet. “I know.”

Pause.

The moonlight barely lit Minji’s face. But even in shadow, her eyes were visible—watching.

“Back there,” Minji said. “You held my hand.”

YN swallowed. “…Yeah.”

Minji didn’t tease. Didn’t smirk. Just looked at her like she was trying to figure something out.

Then:

“I didn’t mind.”

YN’s throat tightened.

She rolled to her side to face her. They were so close now. Only the thinnest air between them.

YN whispered, “You always act so calm. Like nothing fazes you.”

Minji gave a tiny smile.

“You faze me.”

The words dropped like a match in dry grass.

Neither moved. Neither blinked.

Then—Minji’s hand reached out slowly, like she wasn’t even thinking, just drawn—

She brushed a strand of hair from YN’s face.

And her fingers lingered. Just for a second.

“Goodnight, Nerdy.”

YN whispered, “…Goodnight, Minji.”

But neither of them slept.

Not for a while.

The final morning of the retreat arrived with sleepy yawns and messy hair. Students packed up their tents, laughed over spilled toothpaste, and posed for last-minute selfies with the mountain in the background.

The vibe? Lighthearted. The emotions? Chaotic.

YN zipped her bag with a yawn, ready to disappear into the bus and sleep for three hours straight. Sohee, however, had other plans.

“There’s still one last group activity, sleepyhead! Don’t you want to say goodbye to nature properly?”

“I want to sue it.”

Sohee dragged her anyway.

At the camp center, the instructors had set up a fun final activity: “Compliment Circle.”

Each person had to give a quick compliment to someone they appreciated during the trip.

“Let’s end on a positive note,” the coach said, clapping. “Spread good vibes!”

YN immediately tensed. “This is a trap.”

Minji leaned behind her, whispering:

“You’re gonna compliment me, right?”

YN turned, deadpan. “I was thinking the squirrel that didn’t attack us.”

Minji smirked, hand brushing her shoulder.

“Rude. I literally gave you my jacket and my hand.”

“Yeah, and now your fan club wants to curse me.”

When it was Sohee’s turn, she stood with sparkly eyes and announced:

“I want to compliment my roommate YN—who actually came on this trip—and was super brave even when we thought she got eaten by a bear.”

Everyone laughed.Then Sohee added, smiling playfully:

“Also… Mr. Jaehwan from the media department for helping us find the trail again.”

YN blinked.

“Who?”

From the side, a tall guy in glasses raised his hand with a polite smile. “That’d be me.”He walked up to give Sohee a high-five—then turned to YN.

“Glad you made it back safely. You were… walking with Minji, right?”

YN nodded. “Yeah.”

“You looked cool. Very survival-movie aesthetic.”

And then—

He winked.

YN: (processing error)

Across the circle, Minji stared.Expression: neutral. Body: stiff. Aura: “Who is this tall discount actor and why is he looking at Nerdy like that.”Sohee whispered to YN, “Oh no. She saw the wink.”

YN looked at Minji—And yep. The glare. The micro-pout. The crossed arms.

She wasn’t even trying to hide it.Later, during the goodbye group photo, Jaehwan walked past Minji and casually said:

“You’re lucky to be her tentmate.”

Minji tilted her head. Smiled.

“Oh, I’m not just that.”

He blinked. “Oh?”Minji leaned slightly closer.

“I’m the reason she made it through this trip alive. So, yeah. Luck is a funny thing.”

YN, watching this from a few feet away, muttered to herself:

“What is she doing? Marking territory?”

Sohee whispered, “Are you jealous now?”YN: “No. I’m annoyed. Very different

Back at campus, the world felt louder. Traffic. Cafeterias. Lecture halls.YN walked across the quad with her sketchbook, headphones in. Trying very hard to pretend her heart wasn’t still on a mountain trail holding Minji’s hand.

From a distance, she spotted Minji across the lawn.Surrounded by her usual group. Laughing. Hair down. Head tilted back. That easy charm.

And yet— Her eyes scanned the crowd.Until they landed on YN.Just for a second.They didn’t wave. Didn’t smile.Just… held the gaze. Too long. Too much.And then looked away. Like nothing happened.YN exhaled and walked faster. “This is getting stupid.”Later that week, Minji passed by YN outside the art building.Their eyes met.Minji slowed.

YN didn’t.Minji called out, casual:“Still ignoring me, Nerdy?”YN turned just enough to reply:“You seemed busy. With your fanbase.”Minji blinked, amused. “Are you mad?”YN didn’t answer.

Minji leaned in slightly.“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”YN stopped. Turned. Eyes blazing.“I’m not jealous.”Minji grinned.“Sure, Nerdy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”YN’s heart was racing.But she said nothing.She just walked away.Minji watched her go.Still smiling.But now— A little softer.Like she already knew:This war? Far from over. The party was loud. Of course it was.It took over the campus quad like a swarm—fairy lights hanging overhead, music pounding through portable speakers, half-spilled drinks sloshing in red cups, and students everywhere. Dancing. Laughing. Falling over.

YN stood on the edge, hoodie on, expression blank.Sohee nudged her. “You promised to stay at least an hour.”“I didn’t promise. You threatened.”

“Same thing.”Sohee twirled away toward a circle of students, leaving YN alone under a swaying light.As usual.

YN took a seat near the fence, where the music felt more like distant thunder than a personal attack. She pulled out her sketchbook, only half-seriously.

Just as her pencil touched paper—

“Is that your version of dancing?”

YN didn’t look up. “Is bothering me your version of flirting?”

Minji’s voice curved with amusement. “You admit I’m flirting?”

YN finally raised her head.

And immediately regretted it.

Minji was… Wow.

Hair tied up loosely, skin glowing under the golden lights, leather jacket slung casually over a fitted shirt. She looked like a scene from a movie. Unreachable. Unapologetic.

And the worst part?

She was smiling at her.

YN looked away. “Didn’t think this kind of party was your style either.”

Minji shrugged. “I go where the chaos is.”

“Then you’re in the right place.”

“And apparently…” Minji stepped a little closer.

“So are you.”

Soon enough, other students spotted them.

“Look who came out of hiding!” “YN, you clean up nicely!” “Minji, is she your bodyguard or your girlfriend?”

The teasing escalated. Minji shot back with sarcasm, YN rolled her eyes.

Then—

A guy stepped into their space. Tall, energetic, clearly tipsy.

“Hey—you're Minji, right? I’ve seen you at the gym.”

Minji nodded politely. “Yeah.”

The guy turned to YN. “And you’re... the artist? I’ve seen your stuff in the atrium.”

YN gave a stiff nod.

“You two together?” he asked, not really caring about the answer.

YN opened her mouth to say something biting— but Minji beat her to it, jokingly:

“She wishes.”

Everyone laughed.Even the guy.Everyone… except YN.

Ten minutes later, YN sat back down, face unreadable.

Sohee came over, cautious. “You okay?”

“I’m going back to the dorms.”

“What? It’s still early—”

“I’m tired.”

Sohee didn’t argue. But she watched her walk away with quiet worry.She wasn’t the only one watching.

From across the party, Minji saw it too— the way YN left without a word, shoulders tense.

Something in her chest twistedIt took Minji a few minutes to shake off the voices around her, the noise, the drink in her hand. She followed the direction YN had gone.Away from the lights. Past the quad. Into the garden path behind the library building.

There she was. Sitting on a bench under a lamppost, hoodie up, arms crossed.Alone. Again.

Minji didn’t say anything at first. Just walked up and stood in front of her.YN didn’t look up.

“…Why are you here?” she asked quietly.Minji's voice was low. “Why did you leave like that?”

YN scoffed. “Why does it matter?”

“It does.”

YN finally raised her eyes. There was fire there. But underneath it? Something brittle.

“You act like you care,” she said. “But then you joke. In front of everyone. About how I wish we were together.”

Minji stiffened.

“That was—”

“A joke?” YN stood up suddenly. “Right. That’s what you do. You flirt, then pretend it was nothing. You’re always half in, half out. You always act like you’re in control, and I’m just—what? Entertainment?”

Minji’s jaw clenched. “That’s not fair.”“Neither is this!” YN said, her voice cracking for the first time. “I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t want to feel anything. You just kept showing up. Every time I tried to keep space, you closed it. Every time I hated you, you saved me. You made me need you and now—”

Minji stepped closer.One step. Then another.

Their faces were inches apart now. Breathing heavy. Words gone.“Say something,” YN whispered, voice trembling.And Minji said nothing.

She just kissed her.

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t soft.

It was need.

Fingers tangled in the hoodie’s collar, pulling her in. Lips pressed like they’d been waiting for this exact moment to stop pretending. All the teasing, the fights, the denial—it melted, burned, collapsed into this single kiss.

YN didn’t freeze. She melted into it.Hands finding Minji’s shoulders, then her hair. Their bodies fit like puzzle pieces. Like a crash and a landing at the same time.Minji pulled back just slightly, eyes half-lidded, lips flushed.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” she whispered.

YN, breathless, shook her head.

“Then show me.”

Minji kissed her again.Slower this time.But deeper. More desperate. Like she wanted to memorize every second.

It was hot. Messy. Real.And when they finally pulled apart, foreheads resting together, the silence returned.But this time, it wasn’t empty.It was full of everything they couldn’t say.

The kiss had ended. But they hadn’t moved.

Minji’s forehead still rested against YN’s. Their hands were still tangled in each other’s sleeves. Their breaths? Still fast. Still shared.

YN blinked slowly. Her voice came out low.

“So… that’s what all the teasing meant?”

Minji pulled back a little—just enough to look into her eyes. Her gaze was raw. Stripped.

“No.”

YN blinked. “No?”

Minji’s voice was quiet. Shaky. Real.

“It meant less than this.”

Then she leaned in again— and pressed a kiss to YN’s cheek.

Then the corner of her lips.

Then her jaw.

Tiny, desperate kisses like her body was acting faster than her brain.

“I didn’t mean to…” A kiss near the ear. “Fall this hard.” A kiss against the neck. “But I did.” A pause. Their eyes met.

Minji swallowed. Her voice broke just a little.

“And now I don’t know how to stop.”

YN didn’t move.Her heart was pounding, but her body felt frozen. Not with fear. With the terrifying softness of being truly seen.Minji looked at her like she was standing on a cliff— And falling.

“I kept telling myself it was nothing. That I was just being stupid. That the reason I noticed when you were cold, or mad, or quiet was because… I liked annoying you.”

She smiled, weakly.

“But I wasn’t teasing you. I was… looking for reasons to be near you.”

YN felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Minji touched her face again, this time slower, her fingers brushing her cheek.

“And then tonight—when you walked away—I panicked. I thought, ‘She’s leaving. And I’ll never get to tell her what she does to me.’”

A pause.

Her thumb traced YN’s lower lip, eyes flickering.

“How every time you look at me like I’m a problem… I want to be solved by you.”

Then— Another kiss.This one softer. Lingering. Barely there. Like her mouth was writing an apology against YN’s lips.

Minji tried to pull back. Her voice cracked.

“I should stop.”

But she didn’t.She kissed her again.Once. Then again.

Each kiss shorter. Hungrier. Like she was trying to hold back but failing.

“I told myself just once would be enough.”

A kiss.

“But I lied.”

A longer kiss. Slower.

“I don’t want to stop.”

YN whispered, breath catching—

“Then don’t.”

And just like that—

Minji sank into her.A tangle of fingers in hair, jackets slipping from shoulders, lips pressed with desperation.But in all that heat, there was something achingly gentle in the way Minji held her.Like even as she consumed her— She was trying to protect her.When they finally broke apart—again, breathless, quiet— Minji leaned her forehead against YN’s and whispered, almost like a secret:

“I don’t know what we’re doing.”

YN nodded slowly.

“Neither do I.”

Minji’s hand closed around hers.“But I don’t want to pretend anymore

It was almost 1:00 AM.

The campus laundry room was dimly lit, humming quietly with the low mechanical growl of washing machines and the occasional clink of zippers tumbling in metal drums.

YN shoved a basket of clothes through the door, hoodie halfway off her shoulder, hair tied in a lazy knot, eyes half-closed from lack of sleep—and mood fully grumpy.

She muttered under her breath as the door squeaked behind her.

“Why are college students incapable of doing laundry at reasonable hours?”

She made her way down the row of machines—only to find them all either full… or blinking “OUT OF ORDER.”All except one.The last one.YN narrowed her eyes.And then—

“Oh. You again.”Minji.

Leaning against the last washing machine like it was hers by divine right, sleeves rolled up, hair down in soft waves, wearing a T-shirt way too big to be anything but stolen from YN’s drawer.

She was smiling, of course. That soft, slow, smug sunshine smile.

“Fancy seeing you here, nerdy.”

YN sighed. “Please tell me you didn’t actually use the last one.”

Minji shrugged. “I was here first.”

“How much is in there?”

Minji peered through the door.

“Well… about half of my stuff. And half of yours.”

YN blinked. “Wait—what?”

Minji looked over her shoulder, feigning innocence.

“You left your laundry basket outside our room. Again. I just figured… joint life, joint wash.”

YN stared.

Minji took a step closer, arms crossed.

“Or should I separate your socks out next time?”

“You washed our clothes together without asking?”

Minji tilted her head. “I mean, we already sleep together. It felt symbolic.”

YN blinked twice. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet.” Minji grinned wider. “You’re here.”

They stood like that for a beat.

Two people who still clashed like fire and ice— but now, the warmth in the middle belonged to both of them.

Minji leaned back against the machine, arms open in mock surrender.

“Go ahead. Glare at me. Grump about it. I’ll still kiss you.”

YN stepped closer, expression unreadable.

And then—

She did glare. But only for a second.Then she leaned forward and kissed her.A slow, drawn-out kiss.Soft at first—just the press of lips. Familiar now. Easy. But then… longer. Warmer.Minji smiled against her mouth. YN sighed through her nose and deepened the kiss.Their bodies leaned closer, comfortably tangled. Fingers slipped into hair. A hand brushed down a waist. A soft, muffled hum filled the space between them.Outside, the night kept moving. But in here? It was just them.

The washing machine beeped.They didn’t flinch.Minji pulled away just enough to whisper:

“Cycle’s done.”YN tucked her face into Minji’s neck.“Let’s stay a little longer.”Minji smiled. “We can dry them later.”Eventually, they opened the machine. Pulled out a pile of warm, tangled fabric.Minji held up a hoodie. “Yours.”YN held up a black t-shirt. “Yours.”They looked down.The rest? A mix of shirts, jeans, socks. No difference. All blended.Just like them.

“You realize,” Minji murmured, “we really are that couple now.”YN smirked, brushing her shoulder against Minji’s.“Gross.”

Minji kissed her cheek.“You love it.”

YN didn’t answer.She just smiled—soft, hidden, shy.The kind of smile only Minji could bring out of her

End

[elswhore]

۶ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 —۶ৎ

۶ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 — @syraxsbigfanfr

OCTOBER 14. 2016 HOPKINS HIGH SCHOOL GYMNASIUM

The Fall Art Fair was a big deal at Hopkins, a chance for the art kids to shine and paige, a freshman already turning heads on the royals’ basketball team, was here mostly because her best friend, azzi fudd, had dragged her along.

Paige adjusted her hoodie, her blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail, and scanned the room, she was all limbs and confidence, her easy grin and quick wit making her a favorite among teammates and classmates, she’d already played in varsity scrimmages, her silky handles and impossible layups earning whispers of “prodigy” from coaches.

But tonight, she was just paige, dodging a tray of cookies offered by a PTA mom and pretending to understand qzzi’s excitement about pottery. “Yo, azzi, you owe me for this” paige teased, nudging her “I could be working on my crossover right now.”

Azzi, her dark eyes sparkling, rolled them “You’re gonna thank me when you see something cool. Art’s not just for nerds, Buckets.” Paige snorted, her nickname earned from her knack for sinking shots feeling like a badge of honor.

“We’ll see about that.” As Azzi darted to a table of ceramic bowls, paige wandered, her nikes scuffing the gym floor, the art was fine—colorful abstracts, a weird clay foot—but nothing grabbed her, she was about to text azzi to bail when she stopped dead, her breath catching.

At the far end of the gym, near the bleachers, a table stood alone, its display stark but magnetic, a single sketchbook lay open, flanked by a few framed drawings, each rendered in pencil and charcoal with a precision that felt alive.

The open page showed a minneapolis skyline at dusk, the IDS Center’s spire piercing a smudged sky, every window and shadow so detailed it seemed to pulse, another frame held a portrait of an elderly man, his wrinkles and half-smile so real paige could almost hear his voice.

But it was the third drawing that rooted her a basketball player mid-layup, her form dynamic, ponytail whipping, the ball an inch from the rim. the energy, the motion it was like watching herself on the court.

“Whoa” Paige muttered, leaning closer, she didn’t know art, but she knew this was different. It wasn’t just good it was alive, a soft laugh broke her trance. “You’re gonna smudge the glass if you get any closer.” Paige straightened, cheeks warming, and turned to the voice.

A girl her age stood behind the table, arms crossed, a playful glint in her dark eyes, she was striking, curly hair pulled into a messy bun, a smudge of charcoal on her cheek like a badge, her faded denim jacket was covered in paint splatters, and a pencil was tucked behind her ear.

She wasn’t tall like paige, but her presence filled the space, confident yet guarded, like she was sizing paige up. “Sorry” Paige said, flashing her trademark grin. “This is… insane, you drew all these?” The girl nodded, a flicker of pride crossing her face. “Yeah, took me forever, but worth it.”

Paige glanced at the name tag on the table, Xai Celeste, Freshman. “Xai, huh? That’s cool. i'm Paige. Paige Bueckers.” xai’s lips twitched, like she was suppressing a smile. “I know who you are, fancy Jump Shots, saw you at the pep rally last week. You’re kinda a big deal.”

Paige laughed, rubbing the back of her neck “Nah, just tryna keep up, but seriously, this art? you’re the big deal, this basketball one it’s like you were in my head.” Xai’s eyes softened, and she stepped closer, flipping the sketchbook to another page a sketch of a dallas street, food trucks and neon signs buzzing with life.

“Thanks, i just… see things, you know? Try to make them real. That one’s from home.”

“Dallas?” Paige asked catching the warmth in xai’s voice. “Yeah. Moved here a few months ago. Minnesota’s cold as hell, no offense.” Xai smirked, and Paige burst out laughing. “Facts! you’ll get used to it. or, like, buy a bigger coat.”

Paige leaned against the table, her usual shyness around new people melting away ​​​​​​away “so, what’s it like there? cold, yeah, but you’ll survive.” xai tilted her head, studying paige.

“You’re not what I expected.” Paige raised an eyebrow. “What, you thought I’d be all ego and no brain?”

“Something like that” Xai admitted, her grin teasing. “But you’re… i dunno. Real.” Paige’s heart did a weird flip, like she’d just nailed a game-winner. “You’re not so bad yourself, Dallas. Bet you could draw a mean crossover.” Xai laughed, a sound like summer, and paige knew, right then, she wanted to hear it again.

OCTOBER 26. 2016 HOPKINS HIGH SCHOOL GYMNASIUM

Across the gym, tucked against the folded bleachers with a clear view of the court, Xai Celeste sat cross legged on a blanket, her sketchbook balanced on her knees, her hair were pulled into a loose bun, a pencil tucked behind her ear, and her denim jacket splattered with paint and now sporting a new dallas mavericks patch draped over her shoulders.

The smudge of charcoal on her cheek was a constant, like a signature, and her deep brown eyes flicked between her drawing and the chaos of the gym, she’d come to hang with two art-class friends, Maya and Liam, who were sprawled beside her, munching on vending machine chips and gossiping about homecoming.

But Xai’s attention kept drifting to the court, to the fluid motion of a certain freshman guard who moved like she was dancing with the ball. “Xai, you’re not even listening” Maya teased, nudging her with a chip crusted finger. “What’s got you so zoned out? liam’s dumb crush on the debate kid, or…” She followed Xai’s gaze, smirking.

“Oh, it’s Miss Fancy Jump Shots.” Xai’s cheeks warmed, and she ducked her head, scribbling harder at her sketch a half-finished outline of the gym’s rafters, with light streaming through high windows. “Shut up, Maya. im just… observing, for art.”

Liam snorted, pushing up his glasses. “Yeah, ‘art.’ Sure. You’ve been staring at Paige Bueckers for, like, ten minutes. Her and her stupid perfect crossovers.” Xai rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Y’all are dramatic. I’m working on perspective, okay?” She flipped her sketchbook to hide the truth a smaller, secret sketch in the corner, the rough lines of a girl mid dribble, ponytail flying, unmistakably Paige.

She’d only known Paige for a couple of weeks, since that night at the Fall Art Fair when paige had gawked at her drawings like they were magic, they’d run into each other a few times since in the halls, at the cafeteria trading jokes and easy grins that left xai’s stomach fluttering.

Paige was… different, not just the basketball prodigy everyone hyped, but real, funny, the kind of person who made you feel seen, xai hadn’t expected to like her this much, not when she was just passing through minnesota, her real home waiting back in Dallas.

But paige had a way of sneaking past her walls, like a layup no one saw coming, on the court, practice paused for a water break, and paige jogged to the sidelines, gulping from a Gatorade bottle. Her eyes scanned the gym, landing on the bleachers where xai sat.

A slow grin spread across her face, and xai’s heart did a quick stutter, like she’d missed a step, paige said something to her teammate azzi , handed off her bottle, and started weaving through the crowd toward the bleachers, her nikes scuffing with purpose.

“Oh, crap” Xai muttered, closing her sketchbook as Maya and Liam exchanged smirks. “Yo, Celes!” Paige called, her voice cutting through the gym’s hum, playful but loud enough to turn heads.

She stopped at the base of the bleachers, hands on her hips, sweat glistening on her brow. “You just gonna sit there drawing the ceiling, or you got something cooler going on?” Xai’s friends snickered, and she shot them a glare before meeting paige’s gaze.

Those blue eyes were trouble sparkling, teasing, like paige knew exactly how to get under her skin. “Maybe im drawing the ceiling ‘cause it’s more interesting than your layups, buckets” Xai shot back, her dry wit sharp but warm.

Paige laughed, a bright, unguarded sound that made xai’s chest tighten “Ouch, celes, you wound me.” She climbed the bleachers, ignoring maya and liam’s not-so-subtle stares, and dropped onto the blanket beside xai, close enough that their knees brushed.

“Lemme see what you’re working on, bet it’s fire.” Xai clutched her sketchbook, her pulse quickening. “It’s not done. And you’re all sweaty, so, like, don’t ruin my vibe.”

“Ruin your vibe?” Paige grinned, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a mock whisper. “Come on, I saw your stuff at the art fair, you’re basically Picasso, show me.”

Before Xai could argue, paige pulled her phone from her pocket, her fingers quick as she swiped through photos. “Hold up, i got an idea” she said, her eyes lighting up, she turned the screen toward xai, revealing a picture of herself and a younger boy, with warm brown skin, a wide grin, and a basketball tucked under his arm.

They were on a court, paige’s arm slung around his shoulders, both laughing like they’d just pulled off a prank. “This is my baby brother, Drew. He’s, like, my favorite human, well, most days.” Xai leaned in, studying the photo, drew had paige’s energy, that same spark, and the way paige’s face softened talking about him made xai’s heart do a weird little twist.

“He’s cute” she said, smirking. “Looks like he might have better game than you.” Paige gasped, clutching her chest. “Okay, wow, you’re ruthless, Celes, but for real…” She hesitated, a rare flicker of shyness crossing her face.

“Could you draw us? Like, me and drew? I’d love to give him something cool, you know? your art’s… it’s special.” Xai’s breath caught, paige’s voice was earnest, her usual swagger softened by something real, and the compliment your art’s special hit deeper than xai expected.

She glanced at the photo again, then at paige, whose eyes were locked on her, hopeful and a little nervous, maya and liam were watching like this was a rom-com, but xai barely noticed, her mind already sketching the lines of paige’s grin.

“You’re really hyping me up, Buckets” Xai said, her voice lighter than she felt, she flipped open her sketchbook to a fresh page, her pencil hovering. “Fine. i’ll draw you and drew, but you gotta tell me something about him first, like, what’s his deal?”

Paige’s face lit up, and she launched into a story about drew how he was obsessed with basketball, xai listened, her pencil moving as she started a rough outline, capturing paige’s animated expression from the photo, drew’s playful stance.

Paige leaned closer, pointing at the sketch. “Yo, that’s his goofy smile! You’re too good, Dallas.” Their shoulders brushed again, and xai didn’t pull away, her heart racing as paige’s voice filled the space between them.

“Don’t jinx it” she said, but she was smiling, her usual walls crumbling under paige’s warmth “And you owe me for this, like, big time.” “Name your price” Paige said, her grin sly. “Pizza? Ice cream? Or…” She paused, her voice teasing.

“I could teach you how to shoot a three.” Xai laughed, the sound bright and unguarded, echoing in the gym. “You think i need your help? Please, i’d school you.”

“Oh, it’s like that?” Paige’s eyes sparkled, and for a moment, the gym faded the whistles, the chatter, her friends’ smirks until it was just them, two kids with dreams bigger than the court, inching closer to something neither could name.

As the whistle blew, calling paige back to practice, she stood, stretching. “Finish that sketch, celes. I’m serious—I’m framing it for Drew’s room.”

“Only if you say ‘Xai’s the greatest artist ever’ first” Xai shot back, her grin matching paige’s.

Paige leaned down, her voice a soft, playful whisper. “Xai’s the greatest artist ever. Happy?” Xai’s cheeks warmed, her heart pounding. “Yeah. Happy.” Paige jogged back to the court, throwing xai one last grin over her shoulder.

Xai opened her sketchbook, tracing the lines of Paige and Drew, and knew this moment paige’s laugh, the photo, the spark—was already etching itself into her heart.

OCTOBER 23. 2016  HOPKINS HIGH SCHOOL GYMNASIUM

The gym hummed with the fading echoes of practice, the court now quiet as the players trickled out, their laughter bouncing off the walls, outside, the late october evening had turned crisp, the minnesota air biting at xai's fingertips as she sat on a low brick wall by the gym’s exit, her sketchbook clutched against her chest. It was nearly night, the sky a deep indigo streaked with clouds, streetlights casting a soft glow over the frost-dusted grass.

Xai’s breath puffed in small clouds, her denim jacket barely enough against the chill, but she didn’t budge, she’d finished the sketch of paige  and her brother drew, a week after paige’s request, and the framed drawing, wrapped in brown paper, rested beside her.

Xai had poured hours into it, her charcoal strokes capturing paige’s confident grin and drew’s goofy energy from that driveway photo, she hadn’t planned to wait this long practice was supposed to end an hour ago but something about paige’s earnest “It’s special” kept her rooted, even as her eyelids grew heavy.

Xai shifted, tucking her tight curls under her hood, her deep brown eyes scanning the gym doors, she’d told maya and liam she’d head home after sketching, but the truth was, she wanted to see paige’s face when she handed her the drawing.

The gym doors swung open, and paige stepped out, her navy hoodie zipped over her practice gear, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder, her blonde ponytail was loose, strands sticking to her sweat damp forehead, and she was laughing, her voice carrying as she waved to her teammate azzi, who headed toward a waiting car.

Paige’s blue eyes swept the lot, landing on xai, curled on the wall, her head dipping as sleep tugged at her, xai’s sketchbook had slipped to her lap, her hands slack, and a soft snore escaped her, barely audible.

Paige froze, her grin fading into something softer, her breath catching. “xai?” she called, her voice low, almost a whisper, as she jogged over, xai didn’t stir, and paige crouched beside her, her duffel hitting the ground.

“Yo, xai, you’re gonna freeze out here” she said, her tone teasing but laced with concern, she nudged xai’s knee gently, and xai’s eyes fluttered open, bleary and confused.

“Wha—?” Xai mumbled, blinking at paige’s face, inches away, those blue eyes sparkling under the streetlight, her heart jolted, and she sat up, nearly dropping her sketchbook. “Oh, crap, i didn’t mean to—” She rubbed her eyes, cheeks warming as she realized she’d dozed off.

Paige laughed, a warm, unguarded sound, and sat on the wall beside her, close enough that their thighs brushed. “You good, sleepyhead? What are you even doing out here? It’s, like, Arctic level cold.” Her grin was all mischief, but her gaze lingered, searching xai’s face.

Xai’s breath hitched, and she pulled the wrapped drawing closer her fingers trembling—not just from the chill. “I… finished it” she said, her voice quieter than usual, her dry wit buried under nerves.

“The sketch, you and drew. Didn’t wanna give it to you in front of everybody, so i waited.” She paused, glancing at paige, who was staring like she’d just hit a game winner. “Didn’t know you’d take forever, though.” Paige’s eyes widened, and she leaned closer, her voice dropping.

“You waited this whole time? For me?” Her usual swagger softened, a flicker of awe crossing her face. “Xai, that’s… i don’t even know what to say.”

“Don’t make it weird, Buckets” xai said, forcing a smirk, but her cheeks burned as she handed paige the package. “Just take it, and don’t, like, drop it or anything.” Paige took the drawing, her fingers brushing xai’s, sending a spark up xai’s arm.

She tore the paper carefully, her breath catching as she revealed the framed sketch, it was stunning paige and drew in charcoal, their driveway moment frozen in time, paige’s arm was slung around drew, her grin cocky yet warm, while Drew’s toothy smile and basketball tucked stance radiated scrappy charm. Every line, every shadow, felt alive, like xai had bottled their bond.

“Whoa” Paige whispered, her voice barely audible, she traced the frame, her eyes shining. “This is… unreal, xai. Like, I’m framing this for drew’s room, but I kinda want it in mine too.” she looked at Xai, her grin wide but soft, like she was seeing her for the first time.

“You’re a freaking genius, Celeste.” Xai ducked her head, her curls falling loose, her heart pounding. “It’s just a sketch” she mumbled, but paige’s awe was unraveling her. “Took me a while to get drew’s grin right. Kid’s got a lot of teeth.”

Paige laughed, clutching the frame to her chest “You nailed it, he’s gonna flip when he sees this.” She paused, her voice dropping, almost shy. “You didn’t have to wait out here, you know. But… I’m glad you did.” Xai met her gaze, those blue eyes pulling her in, and for a moment, the cold, the gym, the world faded.

“You falling asleep out here? That’s some dedication,  You sure you’re not just tryna impress me?” Xai smirked, her wit resurfacing. “Impress you? Please, i just didn’t wanna carry this frame all the way home.”

Paige laughed, her shoulder brushing Xai’s as they headed into the night, the sketch a silent promise of something growing between them, something neither could name yet but both felt in the warmth of their steps.

Paige shifted the frame under one arm, her gaze flicking over xai’s thin denim jacket and the way she hugged herself against the cold. “Celeste,” she said, her voice dropping from its playful lilt to something softer

“you eaten yet? Like, dinner or anything?” She tilted her head, her blonde ponytail swaying, her brows knitting with sudden concern.

Xai blinked, caught off guard, her stomach growled faintly, betraying her, and she realized she hadn’t eaten since a granola bar at lunch, she’d been too focused on finishing the sketch, then too nervous waiting for Paige.

“Uh, no” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck, her curls bouncing loose from her hood. “I was gonna grab something at home, it’s fine.” Paige’s eyes narrowed, a determined glint sparking in them.

“Nope, not fine” she said, slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder and grabbing xai’s wrist with her free hand, her touch warm and firm.

“You’re not going home starving after waiting out here like a popsicle, come on, we’re eating. My treat.” Xai’s pulse jumped at the contact, and she tried to pull back, her wit kicking in to mask her flustered state.

“Whoa, hold up, Buckets, you don’t gotta kidnap me. I’m good.” Paige didn’t let go, her grin turning sly as she tugged xai toward the lot where a beat up silver Honda waited—her mom’s car, borrowed for the night.

“Good? You’re half-asleep and freezing, Celeste. No way I’m letting you walk home like this. Get in, we’re hitting Rosie’s.” She opened the passenger door, gesturing like a chauffeur, her eyes daring Xai to argue.

Xai hesitated, her breath puffing in the cold, rosie’s was a cozy diner in St. Louis Park, all warm lights and greasy comfort food, the kind of place she’d passed but never entered.

The idea of sitting across from paige, just the two of them, made her stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with hunger, but paige’s grip was insistent, her smile impossible to resist, and xai’s resolve crumbled.

“Fine” she muttered, sliding into the car, clutching her sketchbook like a shield. “But if the fries suck, you’re in trouble.” Paige laughed, shutting the door and circling to the driver’s side, the framed sketch carefully placed in the backseat.

“Fries at rosie’s are elite, trust me,” she said, starting the engine, the car smelled faintly of gatorade and lavender air freshener, and as they pulled out of the lot, paige cranked the heat, glancing at xai. “You’re gonna thank me when you’re warm and full, Celes” Xai rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips, her fingers thawing against the heater’s blast.

Rosie’s Diner glowed like a beacon on the quiet street, its neon sign buzzing, windows fogged with warmth, inside, the air smelled of burgers and coffee, and a jukebox played a soft Motown tune.

Paige led xai to a red vinyl booth by the window, dropping her duffel and the sketch frame onto the seat, the waitress, a woman with a perm and a name tag reading “Barb” handed them menus, winking at paige. “Back again, kid? You’re gonna eat us out of fries.”

Paige grinned, all charm “Gotta keep the team fed, Barb, this is xai, by the way. She’s an artist, so don’t mess up her order.” Xai’s cheeks burned, and she ducked behind her menu, muttering “Don’t hype me up like that.”

But Paige’s laugh was infectious, and soon they were ordering a cheeseburger and fries for paige, grilled cheese and a chocolate shake for xai, who insisted she’d pay her share (Paige waved her off).

As they waited, paige leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her eyes locked on xai. “For real, though..” she said, her voice softer “that sketch? I’m still freaking out, drew’s gonna lose it when I show him, you put, like… us in there. Not just our faces, you know?”

Xai fiddled with her straw, her heart racing. “I just tried to get you right,” she said, glancing up. “You and Drew, you’ve got this… vibe. Like you’d fight the world for each other. It’s cool.” Paige’s grin softened, her eyes flickering with something deep.

“Yeah, that’s him. My little shadow. Always stealing my ball, talking trash.” She paused, studying xai. “You get that, though. Like, you see stuff other people don’t. That’s why your art’s so good.” Xai’s breath caught, and she looked away, her fingers tracing the table’s checkered pattern.

“You’re making it a big deal,” she mumbled, but paige’s words lit her up, like a spark to her dream of museum walls lined with her drawings.

Their food arrived, and Paige shoved a fry at Xai, grinning. “Eat, Celes, before I start feeding you like a kid.” xai laughed, biting into her grilled cheese, the warmth spreading through her, chasing away the night’s chill.

They talked—Paige about a botched layup in practice, xai about a dallas food truck she missed, their voices weaving easily, like they’d done this a hundred times. paige stole a sip of xai’s shake, smirking when xai swatted her hand, and xai doodled a tiny basketball on her napkin, sliding it to paige with a mock-serious.

“Your next tattoo.”As they finished, the diner quiet except for the jukebox’s hum, paige leaned back, her eyes soft. “Thanks for waiting tonight, Xai” she said, her voice low. “Means a lot, you didn’t have to.” Xai met her gaze, her heart pounding. “Yeah, well” she said, her voice barely above a whisper “I wanted to.” Paige’s smile was slow, warm, like a promise.

She paid the bill, ignoring Xai’s protests, and they stepped back into the night, the sketch frame tucked under paige’s arm, as they walked to the car, aige nudged xai’s shoulder.

“Next time, you’re not waiting in the cold, got it? Text me, and I’m dragging you inside.” Xai smirked, her breath puffing in the air. “Next time, you’re buying me two shakes, buckets.”

Paige laughed, her shoulder brushing xai’s as they climbed into the car, the warmth of the diner lingering between them, a spark growing brighter with every shared moment.

[slowlyoats]

The Lost Boys: How They Dream

Marko

- Bright bold colors and random images

- Distance sounds and physical sensations

- He dreams in a lot of red and blues

-He hears pigeon chirps and motorcycles engines

- very abstract

- He knows how the dream makes him feel, but what the dream is about is always unclear to him

- I think his jacket is based off his dreams

- He started with a plan jacket, and then every time he had a dream he would add something to his jacket that looked like what every he dreamed about

- It’s why his jacket is so wild and unhinged looking

- He spent many months digging through dumpsters and searching through thrift stores to find pieces for “the jacket” as he called it

- I think all the boys tried to contribute to the jacket too

- Dwayne cut a piece of his red bandanna off for Marko to use on his jacket

- David found a some scrap fabric and burnt pieces of it with a cigarette to attempt to make a cool looking design

- And with all my being I believe that Paul was the reason for the fishing lures on Marko’s jacket shoulder

- Dwayne and David thought they looked ridiculous, but Marko thinks they are cool looking

Paul

- Doesn’t usually dream

- Which he HATES

- He wants to have dreams sooooo badly

- He tries all the tricks that he reads about from magazines or picks up from various “spiritual’ people on the board walk

- He has tried special teas

- Turning his clothes inside out

- Mediating (which is really hard for him since he can’t sit still )

- Walking around the cave counter clockwise before morning

- Wearing “magical” trinkets while he sleeps (this one David makes fun of him hardcore for)

- But nothing works!

- He even paid a local Boardwalk witch once to “cast a spell” so that he could dream

- He gave her 50 bucks, and she said some magical words and sent Paul on his way

- It did not work

- He went back the next night and overheard her talking to someone about a “dumb blonde” trying to dream that she ripped off

- Paul, uncharacteristically, moped back to the cave

- When he told the boys what happened, well…..let’s just say that Santa Carla had once less witch by the end of the night

Dwayne

- he has very vivid dreams, with complex story lines that sometimes carry over to the following night morning

- The problem is that 8 times out of 10 he doesn’t remember his dreams

- This frustrates him to no end

- He alway remembers how the dream made him feel or sometimes the general theme of it

- Like he will recall that he dreamed about an exciting adventure or a sensual romance, but he can’t really tell you what exactly happened in it

- There is one exception to this though

- When he has a nightmare

- His always remembers his nightmares so vividly and can recall them clearly when he wakes up

- He would rather dream like this though, then to not dream at all like Paul

David

- David dreams pretty normally

- Sometimes he has a dream sometimes he doesn’t

- He dreams a lot about his past and his present family

- Sometimes they are good memories, sometimes not

- The bad memory dreams always seem to be recurring too

- Like if he has a bad dream one day, he will probably have the same dream over and over again for a week

- If he has an s/o then he definitely would dream about them ( in both G and X rated form hehehehe)

- I think because he has power of the mind he can also influence people’s dreams

- He finds this quiet entertaining, and has been trying to hone this skill for sometime

- He practices on the people who fall asleep on the beach while stair gazing

- He likes to give them the most weirdest or scariest dream he can think of, and then run away and watch from a distance when they wake up in a panic

[unicoo]

0 - Welcome to Mississippi

Clarksdale, Mississippi 1909

Down in the Mississippi Delta, over on the side of the colored community, they had to be smart to survive. Everyone, no matter their age or gender, had come to some understandings that kept them alive. The first and most important, white folk on the other side of the dirt hated them, enough to kill, so they kept their distance. Second on that list, they were all they had, their community was family. You look out for the little ones, you watch the backs of whoever is around and they’ll watch yours, or simply give when you can and watch it be returned tenfold. Trouble for one meant trouble for all, that was another one. The list was long, with no need to be taught, the lessons were simply engraved into their bones, placed there by those that came before them. New conclusions were drawn everyday, just a part of the art of life.

One of life’s more abstract pieces came in the forms of Elijah and Elias Moore, or as the community knew them, the SmokeStack twins. The boys were known for their constant hustles; selling warm soda for five cents less than the corner store or using the horses meant to pull the cotton carts to give kids a ride for a quarter, and do not let those two get involved in any jacks and marbles game. By the time those boys were fourteen, they were known as little hustlers, always finding a way to put some money in their pockets and they weren’t too stingy with that coin either. While the twins had the same understanding as the rest of the community, but there was one thing that topped all those other: no matter what it was always them versus the world. That was until Celeste and Louie LaFleur showed up, only then they didn’t go by LaFleur, at least not in public.

It had been a hot day in June. The sun beat down like the world was its drum. Kids laughed on both sides of the dirt, enjoying ice cream on one side and shaved ice on the other. Mothers walked the cool grocery aisles and grandmothers fanned themselves as they gossiped. Men in denim overalls hopped off the back of trucks as they returned to their families and friends after a long day in the fields. Their loud voices quickly joined the symphony from the choir of the community.

Over on a porch sat four boys, Elijah, his brother Elias, and their friends Cornbread and Jameson. They each held an ice cold coke, a treat Elias managed to get with a few slick words, accompanied by a confident smile and easy charm. The four of them worked the same fields day in and day out, sharecropping with their fathers and grandfathers. The heat had beaten them badly, left them sluggish on Jameson’s porch. His mama wasn’t home yet, so they couldn’t get inside on account of Jameson losing his keys a few days ago. Cornbread was still jiving him about it, Elias laughed every so often, while Jameson smacked his lips and rolled his eyes. Elijah wasn’t paying them much attention. His brown eyes swept the streets, watching familiar faces pass by as he sipped from his bottle. He had been the first one to see them, to see her.

A tall chocolate boy and a girl with slightly lighter complexion behind him. They didn’t look much older or younger than the four of them. The boy wore denim jeans and a simple white shirt with more dirt stains than their overalls. His hair was cut neat and low, a long line cut into the side. The girl wore a yellow shirt and the green skirt she wore dragged through the dirt, even though she held some of it in her hands as she walked. Her black shoulder length hair was braided back, intricate with designs and very neat. Hanging off her left arm was a straw brown bag, her left hand was curled around the strap and her right shielded her eyes from the sun.

“Y’all wanna make some money?” The boy asked, his accent was real thick and nothing like theirs. He had looked at them with big brown eyes while the girl behind him dragged her gaze through the street of people. Four pairs of eyes moved between the pair before them and then they began to spare glances at each other.

“Shit, yeah!” Jameson spoke first, his eagerness was way too strong for Elijah, who hadn’t stopped eyeing the two teenagers. From his spot on the corner of the porch Cornbread nodded excitedly, the only thing that got him more excited than food was money and he ain’t play about either. Elias had his eyes set on his brother, only prepared to move if he did. Both Jameson and Cornbread stood, ready to walk towards the pair, when Elijah held his arm out and stopped them.

“How much and what we doin’?” Elijah’s smooth voice caused the girl to finally look over at the porch. A faint smile curled at the edges of her lips as her eyes met the boy’s, who had looked over his shoulder at her. Elijah noticed her nod, as if telling the boy with her to go on. It made him curious about their dynamic.

“My family just moved here, the house my granny bought need some work. We already got some people, but we need mo’.” His accent curled thicker around certain letters as he pointed off handedly in the direction of said home. Elias finally looked away from his brother, his attention turned to the kids in front of him. Of the twins Elias was always the more outgoing and friendly of the two. He prided himself on his relationship with his community and the knowledge that came with it. He hadn’t noticed anyone new moving into town and nobody was talking about it, at least not to him.

“Ya’ get a dolla’ a’hour and we feed y’all too.” Her voice surprised them all, every set of eyes around her turned to view her. She moved forward and stood right next to her companion. That was when she actually looked the four boys over. She stared at each of them, studied them and the space they occupied. Her face stayed controlled, neutral. Her eyes stopped on Elijah, she looked at him longer than she did the rest.

“Feed us what?” This time Cornbread is the one who stepped forward and threw his arm out. His action was lowkey mocking Elijah’s something Elias caught, he threw his friend a pointed look as he chuckled under his breath. From his spot on a stool by the door, Jameson muttered something along the lines of, “This fat ass nigga,”.

“Gumbo, crawfish, red beans and rice, fried okra, and hot wata’ cornbread.” She offered a soft smile as she told him. Her dark brown eyes watched as they all looked between each other. The promise of a dollar per hour and a meal was too promising to pass up.

“Well lead the way.” Cornbread said as he pushed past Elijah, his hand motioned for Celeste to guide them. The little silly smile on his face made her chuckle under her breath as she turned on her heels. They all stood, left Jameson’s porch, and followed after her. The boy she came with stuck back a bit, walking in step with the twins.

“My name’s Louie, that’s my sista’, Celeste.” His palm landed flat on his chest as he motioned to himself. Multiple brown eyes looked at Louie, they looked him over again, this time they kept his name in mind as they did. After he introduced himself, his hand moved out as he gestured towards the girl they now knew was his sister. She didn’t turn around or respond, instead her feet kept moving, guiding them away from the streets of houses and towards town.

“I’m Elias, this here my big brotha’ Elijah. Over there is Jameson and the fat nigga Cornbread.” His pointer finger moved between everyone as he gave their names to the siblings before them. Celeste looked over her shoulder, following Elias’ finger as it moved from body to body. Louie, friendly as always, stuck his hand out for Elias to shake. His hand moved towards the other twin next. Elijah stared at it for a beat before he recuperated the gesture. Jameson was the next to receive a firm handshake.

“Think I know why they call you Cornbread.” Louie joked as he shook hands with Cornbread last. The taller boy smacked his lips and pushed Louie, who dramatically stumbled into his sister. Celeste caught their weight, which kept them from falling. She used her shoulder to push him off of her back.

“It ain’t much to do, it’s already people working on the roof, y’all gon’ be helping Louie with the porches and the stairs.” She told the four boys, who followed her and her brother, with a thicker accent than him. Elijah took notice of the fact that they’d veered away from the main part of town, now turning down a beaten up path that led deeper into the country wildlife than the blooming town.

“Where y’all from? Don’t sound like nowhere in Mississippi.” Jameson asked the question they’d all been thinking, his eyes lingered on Celeste when he did. Louie turned on his feet until he faced them, his feet still moved all the while. The boys hadn’t ever really met anyone outside their community, hadn’t traveled further than the river or cotton fields.

“New Orleans, deep in the Bayou. Bayou babies my mama use’ta call us. Always in the dirt, the mud, chasing after baby gatas and snakes longer than you.” Louie told them as he pointed at Jameson, a beaming smile on his face as he did. He still walked backwards, occasionally he’d bump his sister, who would bump him back into place. As the four friends looked at the siblings again, it made some sense from what they’d heard of their neighbor state.

“Y’all left the Bayou for the delta?” Cornbread asked, his brows curled in and his mouth twisted down. The air around them grew tense. Finally, Louie turned the right way. His once relaxed posture stiffened and his sister looked up at him.

“Wasn’t no easy choice, but ya’ do what ya’ gotta do.” Nothing else is said as they took a right, a thicket of trees and overgrown weedy grass greeted them. The path they followed diverted away from everything, covered in overgrown nature. Eventually, a medium sized family home came into view. It wasn’t in horrid condition, but it was definitely in need of some tender loving care. What puzzled the boys, was the fact that instead of leading them to the front, Celeste and Louie guided them through the backyard. Compared to the surrounding area, their backyard looked taken care of, with the grass trimmed down, weeds plucked up, and a clear clean path that leads right to the back porch.

“Let’s introduce y’all to granny so we can start.” Louie told them as he guided them around to the front of the house. Celeste hadn’t followed, instead she walked on the rickety back porch and pulled the new screen door open. The front yard looked worse than the path that led them there. Large trees with falling and dying branches were pretty much everywhere. Untouched grass, planets, and weeds turned the front of the yard into a mini jungle. The stone walkway that leads to the porch was broken and messy. Voices spoke over them, men on the roof making it like new, and a few more echoed from inside.

Just as Louie had said, they were introduced to his grandmother. She’d told them to call her madame, her voice stern, but kind. She was a taller woman, with long salt and pepper hair braided down her back. She wore a white dress with long sleeves and multiple beaded necklaces. Her hands were covered in black stains and her nails white. They’d been given simply instructions on what to do, “Take this hea’ mesh and wrap it ‘round the porch, from this hea’ part, all way down. Afta’ y’all gonna fix the po’ch floo’, loose nail gotta go and broken wood replaced, same wit’ these, I reckon y’all might wanna do these first, then the mesh. Get a break, then do the same in the back, feed ya’ afta’ that”, Louie already had tools and materials ready to go by the time she was done. The sun had begun to set slowly by the time they finished the back, wood replaced, new unrusted nails, and mesh covering the entirety of both porches. The back had been harder to do, on account of them having to install a half dutch door right between two wooden beams in the middle of the porch. Cornbread had asked what the point of it was and Louie simply told him, “For granny’s work, can’t have everybody in ya’ home, so she’ll do business right here,”.

That evening, just as the sky started to glow orange, they sat at the table inside the old house in the middle of nowhere and ate good. Celeste made everyone a considerate bowl of gumbo right over that red beans and rice, crawfish placed on top, fried okra right next to the hot water cornbread on a little plate. They’d been given a glass of sweet tea and even sweeter beignets dusted in fine powdered sugar. Afterwards they helped patch walls and fix the floor inside until purple crept into the sky. That night each boy left with four dollars and full bellies.

That was the first time they were around the LaFleurs, but it damn sure wasn’t the last.

The next time the twins saw Celeste it was in town. They’d been at the Chow store, the colored one of course, shopping for food when they saw her. They watched from the window as she climbed off the back of the truck. She dusted off the short sleeved blue dress she wore before grabbing that same bag and throwing it over her shoulder. New cornrows decorated her head, each one a different swirl leading to the unbraided hair pinned up in the back. Her eyes moved along the other side of the town and after a while she turned around and went to the passenger door. Both doors popped open, her uncle Ben stepped out of the driver’s side and her Aunt Monáe the other. They kept watching, as her aunt passed her Harriet, her three year old baby cousin. Seven year old Micchael was the next to climb out the car, he immediately took her other hand. The three of them followed the kids’ daddy and step mama into the building next to the Chow’s store. Elijah and Elias finished their shopping at the same time that Celeste exited the building. In front of her Michael was helping his little sister walk, diligently their older cousin followed.

“Y’all buying it?” Elias asked as he smacked away on some caramel. Both of the twins held a brown paper bag in their arms, still wearing their overalls from work. The question took her attention off of her baby cousins, who were kicking a can around the truck.

“Been did.” She said, brown eyes looked them over, it was as if she already had them completely figured out. From Elijah to Elias her eyes moved and her hand fell down to palm her bag. For the first time since she’d got in town that day, she relaxed, her body twisted until she was positioned between looking at them and the little kids.

“What y’all gon’ do wit’ it?” Elijah asked next. The twins hadn’t seen much of Celeste or her brother since they’d helped with the house a few days ago. Nobody knew much about the family other than the fact that they were from New Orleans and how many of them there were. Celeste, her brother Louie, and their grandmother, obviously. Along with her aunt, uncle-in-law, two cousins, and their big sister joy. There was another uncle, Clifford. Clifford was wheelchair bound, completely cared for by his mother and son, seventeen year old Clifford Junior, or CJ. It was just them ten, five of them living in the three bedroom that sat smack dab in the middle of everything and nothing. The other five lived closer to town, which now made sense, seeing as how they’d be setting something up over here.

“Make food, not a sit down type of thang, ya’ orda’ then take it with ya’. We had one back home.” She explained to them, twisting the cheap rings on her fingers as she did. The twins immediately began to think back to the meal they’d had after helping fix their house. The gumbo had been so flavorful, the okra fried to perfection, and the cornbread soft, yet crispy. Even the crawfish was so good, Elias who normally disliked them wanted more. They didn’t doubt it would be successful, especially if Celeste was gonna be in the kitchen.

“Also gon’ be selling moonshine out the back, give y’all fifty cents every customs’ you bring in. First time only though, afta’ that you gon hav’ta go find new ones.” She dropped the information and proposition as if it was no big deal. The twins looked at each other, a silent conversation passed between them. Their eyes occasionally flicker over to look at Celeste before they’d turn back to each other. After a few moments they went silent and then they nodded at each other.

“We’ll see what we can do.” Elias told her with a cheeky grin as he grabbed another carmel candy from the clear bag at the top of the grocery bag. He held it up before tossing it to Celeste, who caught it and nodded before she left the twins to tend to her cousins. Elijah spared her one last glance as they walked by, catching her eye as he did, at least it seemed that way. The sound of his brother’s blabbering didn’t fully register, his focus on Celeste’s now grey eyes. He hadn’t known then, but she had been looking at him, as well as beyond.

It only took two weeks of the family being settled in the Delta before trouble came knocking. The first month of summer was coming to its end, still hot as hell, but clouds sat in the sky more than the sun these past few days. The twins had been walking with Cornbread and Jameson, heading out of town when they saw her again. Dressed in a red skirt with white polka dots and white blouse, with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and that same bag hung off her arm. Hair all new once again, this time multiple cornrows curl and curve towards the middle, each braided all the way down. The many braids are separated into three buns.

“I won, fair an’ square, so gimme my fuckin’ money.” They’d only known her to be a quiet girl, who stayed to herself. The version of Celeste they saw, full of fiery sass and a foul attitude was a surprise. Her lips were curled up in anger, her brows frowned down, and nose scrunched up. One hand on her poked out hip and the other outstretched as she demanded her money. The boy in front of her wasn’t somebody the twins found themselves around, but they knew of him. Darius, or D as he liked to be called, was only a few years older. He was tall, bigger than the other boys his age on account of him working in construction instead of out in the fields.

“Or else what?” D taunted, his body bent down until his eyes were on the same level as Celeste’s. From behind him, his friends laugh, which only egged him on more. Eijah noticed when Celeste’s fist balled up and her jaw clenched before she relaxed again.

“Or else ima go get my brotha’.” She replied as she took the steps forward to eliminate any space between them. She was nose to nose with D, who didn’t flatter. He smirked before he looked over his shoulder at his friends as he pointed at her with curved brows.

“Go get your brother, ain’t nobody scared’a him.” Apparently he’s a comedian, because all of his friends laugh like he told some joke. Elias expected to see Celeste heated with anger, after all he would be if somebody disrespected his brother like that, but instead she smiled. Her head moved in a nod before she stepped back, all eyes stuck to her as she moved calmly, fearlessly.

“Wap konn Jòj!” She said as she bent down and picked up the cards by her feet. Her words had been loud enough that they echoed in the air. Nobody knew what she said, but they did know whatever it was, was in Creole. It made the bugs stop buzzing and the birds start flying. She turned on her heels and walked towards her aunt and uncle’s home.

“C’mon.” Elijah said as soon as Celeste was out of eye sight. She wouldn’t be alone with D and his friends, her brother was on his way, so they could leave now. Cornbread and Jameson began to walk, already ahead of the ringleader. Elias had other plans, with an amused chuckle he went and plopped down on an old tree stump.

“Naw wait, I wanna see this.” He told them as he got comfortable. With crossed legs and a handful of hard candy he’d gotten from his pocket, Elias waits for Celeste to return with Louie. Cornbread looked at Jameson, who looked back at him. Eventually the two shrugged before they joined the younger twin. The other sighed, but gave in, as always. After he joined them, he pushed his way into the small space next to his brother on the stump.

The sound of boots stomped into the dry dirt and grass hit the air around them. All eyes turned to Louie, dressed in denim overalls that hung around his waist, showing off his white undershirt. He walked with purpose, his expression was stoic, but his fist balled tight. Behind him, his sister walked with a smirk on her lips.

“Hannit to ha’ or ima knock you out and she gon’ take it.” Were the first words to leave the big brother’s mouth. His voice was steady, body stood tall and confident. The eyes that had been watching, waiting, went big as they moved between the two young men.

“You won’t do shit. Who this nigga think he is?” Darius spat at Louie before he turned to his friends and laughed. His thumb jabbed in the direction of the shorter boy. Louie let out a sigh as he slipped his overall straps back onto his shoulders.

“Ya’ new daddy.” Louie said the words so naturally, as easy as inhaling and exhaling. Six pairs of eyes went wide as saucers. Louie smirked at the reactions D and his friends gave, the first crack in his facade.

“Nigga what you say?” Darius asked, his feet moved him closer to Louie, who looked at him with a raised brow and curled lips. Perry and Harvey, the two other teens with Darius, hopped to their feet. Elijah watched as they took steps closer and then stopped. His body leaned forward, his arms rested on his legs as he watched more carefully and alert.

“I said ima ‘bout to step up and do what ya’ daddy shoulda been doing, raisin’ ya’ to be a real man.” Louie’s calm and stoic demeanor was back as he slowly rolled his sleeves up while the insult rolled past his lips. His next move had been to remove the beaded bracelets on his wrists, he placed them in his sister’s outstretched hand. Darius seemed genuinely taken back by the statement, his eyes blinked rapidly and his jaw dropped a little.

“Fuck you, ima man.” The response earned multiple chuckles, from Louie and his sister to Cornbread and even Elijah. It made Darius madder, his eyes looked back at his friends to make sure they weren’t laughing. He looked back at Louie, puffed his chest out and stepped forward a bit.

“Yeah, nah. Y’ain’t a man if ya’ can’t take ya’ loss to the chin. A real man woulda put his pride to the side and kept his enda the deal. So, a bitch.” While Louie gave his brief speech, he also started to stretch. One arm across his body while the other came up and pushed it back. He switched arms and did the same thing before rolling his neck. That same sly smirk wormed onto his lips when he saw the raged out Darius, clenched muscles and face frowned deeply, he even had a few veins pop out from how hard he was clenched up.

“Beat his ass D.” “Yeah, you can’t let him talk to ya’ like that. Fuck ‘em up.” Perry and Harvey instigated, but the two still stood back. Darius looked around, weighing his options. He was bigger and stronger, but he’d never really been in a fight before and nobody knew a thing about Louie’s abilities, but he couldn’t do nothing. He wouldn’t risk damage to his reputation by walking away from this.

“Yeah D, beat my ass.” Louie’s smirk grew so large that all his teeth showed, the apples of his cheeks popped up and he nodded his head at Darius to make a move. The older and bigger boy walked towards Louie and as soon as he was close enough, he swung. His posture was sloppy and the way he moved with his left hand bared his right to vulnerability. Louie ducked, his left hand already geared up. The punch landed before Darius even knew what hit him. The first hit was followed by another, a right hook that lined him up perfectly. With one more fast and powerful punch, Louie laid him out, sending his big ass flying into the dirt ass first.

“Na’ gon’ head Celeste, get it.” Louie said after a moment, his eyes scanned the area and his hand brushed his nose. He nodded at his sister to move after he’d placed his boot covered foot on D’s chest. She hadn’t needed to be told twice, hell she barely needed to be told once. Her hands patted down all his pockets until she found what she was looking for. Darius groaned as he tried to sit up, but Louie pressed his foot down harder.

“Let this be a lesson boy, don’t fuck wit’ my sista’ and have some ho’na.” Louie told Darius strictly as he watched his sister hold up three dollars in between her index and middle fingers. After she did that, her brother turned his eyes to the two stragglers. He tilted his head and raised a brow. Both boys swallowed hard and shook their heads.

“Bet you wish I left my brotha’ where he was, huh?” Celeste winked with a smile as she stood up and dusted herself off. Louie waited for her to gain some distance before he moved his foot. Elijah watched her tucked the bills into her bag while his brother and their friends cackled at D’s current situation. By now the four boys have all stood and slowly began to make their way towards the siblings. Louie gave his opponent one last look before he started backing away.

“Oh, and if I hear about you cheating anybody this side of the river again, I’ll kick yo ass so hard ya’ ancestors gon feel it. Ya hea’ me?” Eventually, Louie looked to D’s two buddies. He nodded at them then threw his head in their friend’s direction. The two struggle for a moment to pick up their friend’s slightly dead weight, but eventually they stood him up. He ended his threat with a question dipped in a tone that left no room for anything, but compliance.

“Yes.” Darius answered quickly, his eyes stuck to the ground. Celeste chuckled before she looked over her shoulder at the four familiar faces. Louie watched them turn around and leave with an amused smile.

“Well y’all have a good day now!” He called after them teasingly before he turned around and made his way towards his sister and their new companions. Celeste laughed at her brother as he held his arms up and flexed before he kissed his muscles. She held his bracelets out, he took them before he carefully slid them on.

“Whoo! Boy you colder than a motha’fucker.” Elias hyped Louie up, which made his sister roll her eyes at the encouragement. The smirk pulled its way back onto Louie’s face as he rolled his sleeves back down. Nobody knew it then, but those two together would be like fire and fuel.

“Where ya’ learn to move like that at?” Jameson asked in awe. Celeste walked over to her brother, she subtly checked him over. She ends up behind him and Elias, the letter twisted his neck and the two of them scanned each other before he shifted back. She’d felt someone next to her, when she looked over she met the same face, only that time it belonged to Elijah.

“Our daddy. He was real fast on his feet and with his hands.” Louie told the younger twin, his head nodded back towards his sister as he talked about their father. The older twin looked at the girl beside him. He took notice of the look of nostalgia that took over her features as she listened to her brother’s words.

“He always told me a real man fights for what he loves, I held that lesson close, right next to the one on how to duck and swing.” That got a real laugh out of Celeste, which made her brother turn around with a wink. His attention fell on Elijah next, the younger nodded his head in respect. The gesture was returned by the other, who then turned back around. Cornbread slowed his steps until he was walking just ahead of Louie and Elias, Jameson by his side.

“Remind us to stay on yo good side.” The hefty boy jested as he pointed at Louie. Jameson nodded, his hand tapped his friend’s arm in agreement. Louie chuckled as he shook his head and raised his arms in a harmless manner. When the path that they took to the old house in the middle of their small world came into view, Celeste grabbed her brother’s belt loop and they veered away from the others.

“See y’all ‘round.” Louie offered as he reached up and took ahold of one of his sister’s buns. She swatted his hand away before she slapped his arm. Her brother laughed at her as he held his arm out for her to take. The group watched the brother and sister disappear within the thicket of nature.

After that Elijah and Elias would see them around, setting up shop or walking back home, but it wasn’t until the beginning of August that they were actually around them again. In front of their newly opened store, Louie came outside with Bo Chow, dressed in tan pants and a green shirt and his hair freshly cut. He tossed a ball up into the air before he caught it, his eyes scanned the opposite side of the road. Then, the two of them kept walking. The twins watched from the curb as they walked past them, but then Louie stopped, looked back and sized them up.

“Y’all know anythan’ ‘bout baseball?” His finger moved from Elias to Elijah, Elijah to Elias, and then he did it again as he waited for them to answer. The twins looked at each other and then looked at Louie, who tossed the ball in the air once more before he caught it. Bo came to a stop just ahead of Louie, bat in hand as he watched his new pal talk to the familiar faces he’d checked out in his family’s store.

“Nah, not really.” Elias told him, his head shook and his bottom lip pouted. Elijah looked between the two young men before him, his shoulder shrugged at the same time that his brother spoke. Louie nodded, his eyes moved to Bo, a silent question asked. The youngest of the four tilted his head to the side and raised his brows before he nodded.

“I learn y’all sumin’ real quick.” Louie told them, his hand motioned for them to join him and Bo. The twins looked at each other again, both shrugged insync before they pushed themselves to stand. Louie smiled and then nudged Bo, who shook his head playfully.

That day the four of them stood at the old railroad by the town line and played baseball until the sky turned orange. Louie was able to teach them the basics pretty fast, the twins were smart and quick, after about 15 minutes they were playing a rough version of baseball. Louis took Elias on his team and Bo took Elijah, seeing as how Louie and Bo knew a lot about baseball. The afternoon was fun, full of laughs, teasing, playful jabs, and a decent game. By the time the orange began to turn purple, Louie picked up his ball and looked at the sky before he turned to everyone else.

“Y’all hungry?” He asked as he tossed the ball into the air. Bo didn’t answer, he simply jogged over to Louie with a look that said it all. Louie watched the twins look at each other, talking in a way that only they understood before they too jogged over. The four boys walked back to Louie’s family’s store, ‘Taste of the Bayou’.

“Y’all done for the day?” His Aunt Monáe asked after they walked into the place. It had chairs lining the windows, meant for sitting and waiting for their order to be completed. Hung all over were flower pots with various flowers. The counter was decorated with taped down menus, candles, baskets filled with condiment packets, and small bottles filled with herbs. The walls were freshly painted, now blue, completely different from the once red walls of the last business, a floral shop. Amazing smells floated from the back up to the front of the store.

“Yes ma’am.” Louie told her as he walked up to the counter. His aunt looked to his new friends, offered them all smiles and a nod before she turned back to her nephew. Each of them gave her respectful hellos instead of opting for a silent greeting.

“Well sit down, I’ll have Star bring y’all something out.” Monáe told her nephew, her head nodded towards the chairs before she walked into the back. Louie spun on his feet and walked over to one of the chairs before he plopped down. While they waited, Louie and Elias made Elijah and Bo laugh by talking about the white people on the other side. They made exaggerated mocking voices as they said foolishness about each one. It didn’t take long for Celeste to come out of the kitchen, dressed in denim jeans and a black shirt with a white apron tied around her waist.

“Hea’ ya’ guys go.” Celeste spoke as she approached with four bundles of tinfoil. Each boy took one, Bo being the first one to eagerly unwrap his. The smell of chicken invaded the air as they all tore the foil away. Celeste disappeared again and after a few moments returned with paper cups of ice cold water. Each boy thanked her with a mouthful of chicken sandwich, which made her smile and shake her head before disappearing again. The four of them sat there till closing. After they’d finished eating they talked about work and themselves. At one point Celeste had even joined them.

By the end of the summer the two sets of siblings were practically inseparable. On days when Celeste worked at the store, Louie and the twins would keep her company. They’d make her laugh, bring in more business, and if she were extra lucky they’d help cook and clean. On the days they weren’t at the shop, they were at Louie and Celeste’s house. They’d play games or explore the area around the house. Sometimes their granny would give the four of them moonshine to taste test and then they’d do something foolish like play hide’n’seek or tag. Other times they’d lay in the living room and listen to records. And on the more relaxed days, they’d walk around town, sometimes they’d talk and others they’d enjoy silence.

Back then, nobody would’ve been able to predict just how those four would change over time. How their relationships would grow. How their lives would go. Simpler times, before the SmokeStack twins made a name for themselves, before any of them grew to hold slivers of power within their communities. Love hadn’t wormed its way into the paths they walked. The hardest decisions weren’t anywhere close to being made. By 1932, that was a completely different story.

Chapter 1

Taglist 🏷️

@darkseidex @zomqiez @secretlysamcro @queenofklonnie22 @thewifeoflevi

[alexetbishop]

THE SUN AND THE MOON

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Demigod!Reader

Summary: Kate makes a visit in your universe after weeks of not seeing eachother.

Word count: 2.5K

Pure fluff. Kate is such a dog mum. This is taking the sapphic long distance experience on a whole other level. Reader is a daughter of Apollo.

a/n: there might be a prequel of this on the workings. It's still an abstract idea but I already got something laid out.

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"Okay, I'll come and pick you up tomorrow morning at 10:00. And if I find you two doing cheeky stuff again you can say bye-bye to your personal multiversal taxi." America warned Kate as she was opening a portal right on the fire escape outside your bedroom window.

"Just to clarify, we were just making out." Kate points out. "We were half naked but only making out." She adds mumbling to herself. She took a step forward, finding herself in your universe. "Whatever. You own me so many pizza balls for this." America grumbles before closing the portal.

You were sitting at your desk, music was blasting through your headphones as you were finishing up an assignment on your computer.

Kate opened your window and jumped inside your room. She smiled as she saw you concentrated on your work. Her backpack slips out of her shoulder, hitting the hardwood floor. She sneaks behind you and takes your headphones off.

"Whatcha listening to?" She whispers in your ear. You jump on your seat and turn around.

"Oh my god!" You whisper shouted. "Kate? What are you doing here?" You stood up from your chair, a smile plastering on your shocked face. You weren't supposed to see her until next week, so this was certainly a very nice surprise.

"Hi, baby. 'Was just popping by. Wanted to see what my beautiful girl was up to." She shrugged as her hands found your waist, immediately connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. When you draw back you notice she has cuts and bruises all over her face and probably on her body too since her suit was all ripped and a bit bloody. You tilt your head. "Did you come here because you wanted to see me or because you want me to be your personal nurse again?"

"Both?" She raised her eyebrows and made her famous puppy eyes at you. You shake your head and chuckle. "Take off your suit." You step back, crossing your arms under your chest. "Eager, are we?" She teases as she peels off her archery suit, throwing it on the floor. Now she's left with a black tank top that accentuates her muscular form and some boxers that had purple hearts on them. Of course she was wearing something like that.

You roll your eyes. "Just stay still." Your hand reaches her jaw, where a fresh and deep cut was glaring at you.

You took a deep breath: a golden aura began to shine around your body. Kate felt your warmth streaming from your fingers to her jaw. In a matter of seconds the cut disappeared. "Who did you fight this time?" Your hand moved to her forehead. "Just some thugs that were trying to steal some kind of dangerous substance. It was a pretty cool fight, actually. I knocked out three guys with only one shot." She says proudly. You smile at her being all cocky of her actions. "That's amazing, love."

As your hands were moving all around her body, healing her from every single bruise and cut, she rambled on and on about her mission. You had to force her to stay still because she was moving around trying to demonstrate how she back flipped and knocked a guy out kicking him in the nuts with her left foot.

Once her skin was smooth again you removed your hands and returned to a normal non glowing human. "Thank you, princess." She smiled at you and gave you a quick peck on the lips. "You knows you're always so hot when you do that. Literally and figuratively."

You chuckled and sat down on the bed, reaching for a bottle of soda on your bedside table and drinking it to get your full strength back.

Kate crawled on the bed, laying on top of you. Her arms cradled around your hips and her chin rested on your midriff as she gazed up at you with her dazzling angel eyes.

"I missed you." She whispers and leans her head forward. She starts to leave a trail of butterfly kisses from your collarbone to your lips. You can't help but giggle at that sweet action.

"I missed you too, Katie." Now her face is right above yours. Your hands find the small of her back and caress her there, your touch is as soft as a feather while you draw heart shaped figures on her bare skin.

"Lucky misses you too." You could feel one of her calloused hands sliding up your back and reaching your neck. "He's always so excited whenever I say your name." She then lets go of you, and goes to retrieve her phone that was in her backpack. "I've got a few videos of that, actually." She crawled back next to you, opened her gallery and pressed play on a video of Lucky being all happy and stomping around as his tail was wagging like an helicopter. You chuckle at the adorable sight.

For the next few minutes Kate proceeds to show you every single video of Lucky she had. (even the ones that you had seen a million times already) "Wait! I almost forgot." She reached in her backpack, taking out a small folder. She opened it and inside there were dozens of pictures of her, Lucky, and a couple with her team too. "I printed some more pictures for you." You melted. Kate knew you couldn't have a phone (being a demigod was really shitty sometimes.), and every time she made sure to print a lot of pictures (and yes, some of them were spicy too). You, in the other hand, were more prone to writing. So while you had an album full of pictures, she had a folder with all your letters and poems.

You couldn't help but to lean forward and kiss her on the lips. "Thank you." You looked at the pictures for a few moments and then looked up. "I got something for you too." You stretched your arm to open the drawer of the bedside table and took a small notebook, handing it to her. "It's a small scrapbook I've been making for the past couple of weeks." There's all kinds of things: poems, flowers, pictures and small things that remind you of her.

The corners of Kate's mouth reached her ears. "You're amazing, princess." She took the scrap book in her hand, starting to open it and flip through the pages. You stopped her. "Nah uh." You put your hand over hers, shutting the scrapbook closed. "That's for later. When you're back home."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Fine." She carefully puts the scrapbook in her backpack. She crawls back to you, fully laying on you and burying her face in your neck. She starts giving you little kisses on the same spot. "Come with me." She says in between kisses. "Come back to my universe."

"Katie, you know I can't." You sigh. Being long distance was certainly not easy. Especially if you both live in different universes, and don't have any type of communication besides iris messages, that you discovered can work between universes, but those can last just for a couple of minutes. (One time you left the "call" go on for the whole night. You had to toss 15 drachmas to pay for it. The inflation has reached the mythical world too apparently.)

"Please." Her soft voice was humming against your skin. You wanted to. You wanted to be with her, be close to her, falling asleep in eachothers arms and waking up to Lucky jumping on the bed and licking your faces. But you had your family to take care of. You were the oldest of the family. Your mum worked all day long, leaving you to take care of your two little siblings. And also you had college. You had missed the whole first semester due to the whole "disappearing into another universe thing" and now you had to catch up.

"I promise that I will, just not now. I have so much going on right now. I can't just disappear again after being away for months." You made her look at you, cupping her cheeks. "You promise?"

"I promise." You whisper, a small smile tugging on your lips.

She leans in and kisses you. She wants time to stop. Tomorrow morning she'll have to go back and it's going to be another couple of weeks until she can see you again. So she doesn't dare to pull away from you. She wants to be in your arms forever.

Soon her tongue slides in your mouth, sinking into you. But it's not enough. Touching you isn't enough. Her hands move up and down your sides, squeezing your waist over your sweater. Or better, her sweater that you stole the last time you went to visit her. Her fingers graze your stomach and slides her cold hands under the soft fabric. Your skin perks up, a shiver running down your spine to Kate's electric and intoxicating touch.

"Katie..." You whisper when her lips detach for a millisecond. She just hums against your mouth, her hands sliding upwards. She knows you're not wearing a bra underneath.

"Darling..." You say again a bit louder but she continues. And right when her fingertips are about to reach your breasts, you stop her. She leans back from your face, her hands don't move, they're warm, now having stolen the heat of your body. She's looking at you with her mouth agape, she's slightly panting, her pupils are blown out and tendrils tickling your now rosy cheeks. "We can't do that right now."

She furrows her eyebrows and she's about to ask why when someone knocks on your bedroom door. "Y/N?" It's your mum. You totally forgot that on Sundays she only works in the morning. Shit. She tries to open the door. This is the only time you thank the gods for having a crappy and old apartment. The handle of the door is almost broken, so it's pretty hard to open it unless you know the right mechanism to not tear the knob out.

"Quick. Hide somewhere!" You tell Kate as she panics and jumps out of the bed. She looks around and then she hears a click. The handle slightly turns and the door opens. Kate crouches down and slides under your bed right before your mum walks in your room.

You quickly put all the pictures that were next to you on the bed under your pillow and smile innocently. "Hey, mum. What's up?"

"I've made tea, do you want some?" She asks.

"Uhm- no. Thank you. I'm fine." You fold your arms under your chest.

"Are you sure? You've been in here for the whole day. You need to take some breaks from those books." She points at your messy desk.

"Yeah, I know. I'm taking one right now. You know, laying in bed and- looking at the ceiling." Kate has to hold in a laugh for your lame response. "It's very relaxing. You should try it."

"Alright." She says reluctantly. She takes a step back when she notices Kate's backpack on the floor next to your bed. Fortunately her suit was on the other side so she couldn't see it. "What's that?" She points at the black backpack.

"Oh. That's uhm- Will's. He left it here yesterday." You lie. But it was pretty effective because Will actually came to visit you the previous day. He would never own a backpack like that but your mum buys the lie and nods. "Hm. Okay. Well, if you need anything I'll be in the living room. Your siblings want to see Cars again." She states and closes the door behind her.

"Okay. Cool, thanks. Have fun!" You hold your breath until you can't hear her footsteps anymore and pat the side of the bed. "Coast is clear." Kate rolls out from under the bed and lays on your bedroom floor, a smirk on her face. You sit criss cross on the edge of the bed and look down at her. "What?"

"You're right. It is relaxing watching at that nice and smooth ceiling." She mocks.

"Shut up." You dangle down one foot and lightly kick her on her hip. She fakes a hurt face and pouts. She stands up and now she's the one looking down at you. "So, I gather you haven't told her yet?" You shake your head. You did want to tell your mum about Kate. But you know she would freak out. She's... very protective, to say the least. The first time you heard of camp half-blood or the term 'demigod' was when you were 15. You didn't even suspect anything since monsters wouldn't attack as you weren't as powerful as some other demigods. So she took that as an opportunity to keep you safe next to her. But the time comes for everyone and one day, after a big fight with her, you sneaked out, walking all the way to camp. And it wasn't a nice little promenade at all with monsters attacking you left and right every single step.

You only reconciled after the whole thing about your dad getting transformed into a teenage boy. Now you were on pretty good terms again, but her protectiveness hasn't ceased that much.

"I want to. I really do but... She'll definitely ban me from going to see you." You look down. "If she even finds out that in those months I've been in another universe and not at camp she'll probably get into a coma." You scoffed.

"Yeah, but you're an adult now. You are way capable to make your own decisions." Kate sat down next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

"I know. But the past months we became so close, more close than we've ever been and I don't want to ruin that again." Your eyes are fixed on your lap. You stop the urge to take your fingers to your mouth and bite your nails. Kate sees you getting anxious and she places her hand that wasn't around you over your hands. She speaks with a calm and smooth voice. "Hey, get those bad thoughts out of your head. In the first place, you didn't ruin anything. And secondly, I'm okay with you taking your time. I won't push you to do anything you don't want to." She kisses your temple and then presses your forehead against it.

You lean into her touch and exhale deeply. Then you turn your head, your eyes fix on her collarbone, the sun necklace you gave her is shining on her toned skin. You had a matching one, but with a little moon charm instead of the sun ("That way, it's like we will never be apart." Kate said when she gave it to you.). Then your gaze travels along Kate's features until you meet two oceans rumbling in front of you. "I really love you."

She smiles. "I love you too, baby." She pauses and her sweet smile turns into a cheeky grin. "So no head?"

You chuckle and shake your head. "Can't risk having my whole family hearing your pretty sounds." You peck her nose, making her scrunch it in an absolutely adorable way. "Those are only for me I'm afraid. I can propose some cuddling with a little make out session if you'd like." You suggest.

"Okay. That's fair." She nods in agreement. "Let's get started then, we have so little time and I have to tell you so many things." She climbs on top of you and gently pushes you down the bed. You giggle and your lips press together.

You stayed up all night. Talking about random stuff, taking breaks to make out, and chat again trying to maintain your voices and giggles as quiet as possible.

And it's in these moments where you understand that whatever happens, you won't ever let go of eachother. Because despite the distance you need eachother. The sun and the moon will always need eachother.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Sorry to bother ya again, but my brain is literally on overdrive with this show and this clown who hws beckme my first kin and lives in my head rent free as she quietly sits there with a cup of hot chocolate and a warm blanket like she deserves, buuut

What if the gang found out the reader could abstract at will, including restricting it to certain parts of their body, ooor what if they found out you were a shapeshifter when you accidentally sneeze and turn into Wario or something

TADC cast x reader who can shapeshift!

i have returned from eating my silly dinner (sweet n sour chicken with rice!) it was very scrumptious i went ahead and did the shapeshifter idea since i feel that would be more fun to write (we can pretend they can still shift to mimic an abstracted body shhh) these ones are a little short i hope thats okay!

CAINE:

its not totally unheard of people getting unique abilities when they enter the digital world, its just not very common (this is a hc!), so when caine found out you could manipulate your appearance he wasn't all that surprised! i think he was more intrigued more than anything, because its not everyday you see something like that! he would be absolutely thrilled if you shifted into him; both from being amused of it and this man probably loves himself as much as someone can

will try to pop you if you mimic bubble, kind of feels bad for a second but your disguise was just so so convincing! say, were you by any chance an actor in your past life in the real world? you totally had him fooled!

POMNI:

pomni would be a little freaked out, especially if you just. suddenly sneezed and OH! now it looks like you're abstracting in front of everyone! first response is to run away before the transformation is complete, but when she notices no one else is freaking out (ragatha even blesses you!) shes more than a little confused

you offer to demonstrate your abilities to her, but she probably politely turns you down; she understands... for the most part... really its mostly just her trying to become used to the digital world as a whole

RAGATHA:

ragatha makes sure that you know that she thinks its cool; and as long as you're not morphing into a giant bug shes encouraging you to hone in on that cool power of yours! compliments whatever form you choose for the day

oh? you changed your hair color! she likes it, the new look is amazing on you! oh? you made yourself a little taller and gave yourself some new characteristics! points out nearly every detail shes noticed, no matter how small. ragatha pays attention, ragatha cares

JAX:

tries to drag you off to the dark side (ie being a menace to the others), whether or not you agree to be his partner in crime and 'use your power for evil' is fully up to you!

makes random requests to see just how far you can take your shapeshifting, usually listing off things at lightning speed to see if you can catch up.. if your shapeshifting takes a toll on you (like lets say it takes energy out of you) he might let up when he realizes how tired and pale you look all of a sudden.. at least for now

KINGER:

speedrunning to kinger for a moment before i forget this idea but imagine shapeshifting into him and hes just totally confused. leads to him making weird movements and you copying him (he thinks caine added a new mirror in the middle of the room for a solid minute before you break the illusion)

unless you have a set 'base form' hes going to keep thinking youre a new person if you drastically alter your appearance.. which, fair, since i think if you made yourself look unrecognizable, people would think youre a new person entirely. has probably introduced himself to you multiple times before realizing it was you

kinger gets a technical third bullet point but its not fluff. i just remembered the scene from steven universe where amethyst shapeshifts into rose in front of greg. but instead its kinger and instead of rose is queener/queenie. i hurt my own feelings. im gonna stew over this now

ZOOBLE:

honestly if you look just a mixmatched as them they would be into it and say you look cool. i had an idea that zooble has spare pieces and sometimes switches out their pieces for a new look, so imagine the two of you make matching looks or something, i think that would be cool

otherwise i dont think zooble would treat you any differently than if you were friends and couldnt shapeshift... though... i will admit, they think its funny when jax annoys you and change yourself in order to get him to back off. serves him right!

GANGLE

imagine she asks you to be a model for her art.. asking you to do different poses as well as different figures so she can better her craft. i absolutely love the idea of gangle being really into art, and this idea is just so cute to me

you have probably shapeshifted into her and pretended to be her when she needed someone to stand up for her... imagine how jarring it would be to see 'gangle' snap back at jax after he does something particularly mean

[jokeringcutio]

Joost Klein x (F) Reader – I kissed a girl (Rating:Teen and up)

Summary: After your best friend kisses you, Joost comes to your rescue by pretending to be your boyfriend.

Words: 3469 Warnings: Homophobia/Lesbophobia (from friend's dad), cigarettes & smoking mentioned, a few curse words (mostly as thoughts), being kissed by your best friend, being kissed by a girl, Joost and his crew being cool about it, Joost and his crew to the rescue, not beta-read. AN: This came to me in a fever dream.

The streets hummed with life, a blend of soft murmurs and boisterous laughter as groups of people weaved between buildings. Outside, old artifacts lay scattered on the cobblestones, decaying and rusting, remnants of a time when the factories still buzzed with activity. Now, these same factories were the home of all sorts of art projects.

You followed a small group into another narrow hall, your best friend walking close beside you. Colorful canvases and installations filled the room. The two of you paused to admire a towering abstract sculpture of twisted metal and blinking lights.

You and your best friend hadn’t wanted to be bored so you’d decided to walk the art route – hey, at least it was something to do! And you were in the area already. You were having a good day. The time had flown by, filled with laughter, shared admiration for the artworks, and deep contemplation amidst the artistic beauty. Just being in each other's company had transformed a potentially dull day into a delightful one.

The two of you came to stand in front of a piece of very modern art. The painting was a swirl of abstract shapes and vibrant colors, with two distinct male figures in the center. The figures were entwined in a passionate kiss, their forms blending seamlessly into one another amidst the chaotic background. The brushstrokes were bold and expressive, capturing a moment of intimacy with an almost palpable intensity.

You and your best friend giggled as you took in the artwork. "Well, they’re really going at it,” you said. “The artists hid no details.”

Your friend chuckled.

“What do you think was the underlying thought he had when he painted this?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "I don’t even want to guess, but it’s definitely interesting."

You hummed.

“It’s nice to see more of this art though. Like… Men kissing,” she said after a moment, her voice more contemplative.

You turned to her, noting the thoughtful expression on her face. “Yeah.”

“I mean, makes me wonder. I’ve never kissed a girl before,” she lamented.

“You’ve kissed me,” you said, grinning.

“That was your cheek,” your friend exclaimed. “That doesn’t count.”

You both laughed, but then fell into a more serious silence. You glanced at her, noticing the curious glint in her eyes.

“Have you never wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl?” she looked at you, and you frowned slightly.

“Have you?” You asked in turn.

She bit her lip, clearly hesitant but also intrigued. "Yeah, I have. Especially after seeing this painting. It just makes me curious, you know?"

You nodded slowly, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. "Yeah, I get that."

She hesitated, then looked at you with a shy smile. "Do you think it would be weird if we tried it? Just to see what it’s like?"

“Well,” you said, your heart pounding in your chest. "I mean, if you want, we could...give it a try? Just to see what it's like?"

Her eyes widened. "Really? You'd be okay with that?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I think so."

You’d placed kisses on each other's cheeks in the past. Would this really be so different? To be fair, you were curious too.

Tentatively, she took a step closer. You mirrored her movements until mere inches separated you.

“I’m sorry,” she said, hiding her lips behind her hands as she burst into giggles. “Nervous.”

You smiled and patiently waited till she recomposed herself and lowered her hands. She stood a little straighter. “All right,” she said, “I’m ready.”

Now it was your turn to giggle, but only shortly. Slowly, gently, you leaned in. Your eyes fluttered shut. And then her lips met yours, soft and warm and tasting faintly of cherry chapstick.

Your eyes opened, slowly, and you saw him.

Most of the group had dispersed and had already continued to the next building, leaving you only with an Asian-looking mum and her teenage son – both too busy looking at the art -, two elderly ladies – too busy gossiping – and a tall bald man wearing a Hawaiian shirt whose gaze snapped away from the sight of the two of you kissing.

Pulling away from your friend, you saw the tall bald man fumbling with his bag, trying to pull out his phone as quickly as possible, lens pointed directly at you. Panic seized your chest.

"Someone is trying to film us!" you whispered urgently. Or take photos, you had no idea. All you knew was that this wasn’t normal, and the man seemed oddly keen to get the two of you on camera. Luckily, he was so rushed with his movements that his camera dropped on top of his bag again. He picked it up with trembling hands.

Your best friend whirled around and the blood drained from her face. "Shit,” Her hand was instantly upon your wrist, tugging you along. “That's Peter, my dad's friend. We’re dead."

Raw fear shone in her eyes as she started to pull you towards the entrance of the building to make your escape. “We need to run!"

Feet pounding, hearts racing, you tore through the narrow streets hand-in-hand. Peter's heavy footfalls echoed behind you, too close, always too close.

"We can't let him catch us!" she panted, breathless, while she urged you to keep running. "My dad...he's so traditional. If he hears I kissed a girl... If Peter shows him proof."

Tears streaked her flushed cheeks. You squeezed her fingers, pulling her around a sharp corner. “He can’t get us on camera,” you needed a moment to gasp for air, “not kissing.”

So you'd be safe, right? You could stop running?

“But he can show Dad your face,” your friend said, and you realized that you usually hang out at your place because of her situation. Not your friend’s, because of her strict parents.

Did her dad even know what you looked like? The two of you spend a lot of time together. What if he thought that you weren't just friends but were dating? Would he forbid the two of you hanging out together after this?

Shit.

"Just keep running," she urged you, and you did.

Winding alleys, cobblestone paths, your burning legs propelled you forward. Faster. You had to go faster. Lose him in the maze of backstreets and side lanes.

Your best friend’s palm was slick with sweat against yours. Ragged breaths tore from your lungs. Each gulp of air seared your throat.

Rounding another corner, you realized the two of you were trapped. A small alleyway was ahead, but you could already see the barbed-wired fence behind the rubbish bins. A dead end.

"There!" You veered to the left, tugging her with you. An old rundown building, tucked out of sight. Your only hope. Praying it was unlocked, you shouldered through the weathered door, your friend close behind you, following.

The door fell closed behind you as you stumbled right into the midst of the rundown factory shed. Then you looked up, only to find it wasn’t empty. Music pounded. A group of people stood all near the entrance of the building, talking, and smoking. All eyes turned to you and your friend.

Your best friend took an instinctive step backward, backing up against the now-closed doors.

But you weren’t focusing on her. Your eyes landed on the cameras that stood behind the group of people. You recognized that they had built some kind of set, with the way lamps were positioned to light the area. They were filming here.

And then your eyes slid past the people who looked at you with annoyance and you recognized him. A cigarette dangling from his lips, his piercing eyes locked onto you.

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart skipped a beat.

Joost Klein?

An artist you admired, someone you were a huge fan of. Here? In a rundown building? Filming a new video clip to one of his songs? Of course, you’d be making a fool of yourself in front of someone you admired. Fool, fool, foolish.

Dread knotted your stomach. Well, as they say: out of the frying pan, into the fire. Peter could be here any minute. And when you glanced at your friend, you could tell she still stood frozen and wasn’t going to say anything soon. The two of you needed help and it seemed to be up to you to get it.

“We need a place to hide, just for a moment. There’s this man chasing us, trying to-"

"Whoa, slow down." One of the crew members stepped forward, holding up his hands. "What's going on here? You can't just barge in like this."

Another girl in the crew, one with dark brown curls took a step toward you, her gaze never leaving you. "Start from the beginning. What's this about a man chasing you?"

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts. Joost took a drag from his cigarette, eyeing you coolly. You tried not to look at him.

One of the blonde girls present cocked her head. All these gazes directed at you unnerved you. There were mostly young men here. You thought you recognized a face or two.

“This guy, he’s a friend of her dad,” you pointed at your best friend here, silently hoping she would take over, but seeing she was still shaken to the core. “He saw us kiss because we were curious and we were at this art thing and,” ah… you were rambling. Get to the point. “Never mind,” you shook your head.

“So you kissed?” The brown-haired girl asked, raising a brow skeptically. “So?”

“So?” Finally, your friend spoke up. It was as if the girl’s words had triggered her back into motion as she stepped away from the door. You could swear you saw the shadow of Peter pass by, probably heading to the dead end as you had hoped. It would buy you a little more time. But would it be enough?

Your best friend’s eyes were fiery as she stepped away from the door. “I kissed a girl,” she said, voice firmer now.

“So?” The brown-haired girl repeated herself. “So you kissed a girl. So what?”

“You don’t understand,” you piped in.

“My parents are very strict and if my dad hears I kissed a girl he’s going to kill us,” your best friend raised her voice, trying to convey the urgency of the matter.

“And this guy chasing us wants to take a picture of us to show to her dad so he knows who to kill,” you helpfully added.

This had the crew murmur, and you looked from one face to another, hoping they would understand. “So can you hide us for a minute, please?” You concluded.

Joost's crew exchanged glances, a mixture of surprise and concern on their faces. The girl who had spoken earlier frowned. "That's messed up."

“He could be here any second now,” your friend squeaked. You could see that she was constantly casting glances at the door.

“Go stand with one of the men,” the brown-haired girl said while she folded her arms in front of her chest. “You said he can be here any second now. Let’s get rid of the problem.”

You blinked, not quite understanding what she said.

“I-I’m sorry? How does that-?”

But she cut you short. “He’s got nothing against you if he comes in and sees one of you with your boyfriend.”

Wait a minute.

"Who..." You licked your dry lips, glancing around at the crew. "Who would be willing to pretend to be my boyfriend?"

As your gaze swept over the group, you were shocked to see every man raise their hands in a united show of support. Your dry mouth instantly turned parched as you dared to hope that they would all stand with you and your friend.

But before you could respond, Joost broke free from the crowd. His hand yanked the cigarette from his lips, leaving a trail of smoke behind as he strode towards you with determined purpose. His fingers clasped tightly around your wrist, pulling you forcefully against his chest.

Your eyes widened in alarm, and your heart nearly stopped at the proximity between you. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up into his intense gaze, seeing flecks of gold in his eyes. This close, you could smell a scent that was uniquely Joost – hidden away underneath the smoke. He held his cigarette to the side, mindful not to have it graze past your skin.

Then, without warning, he dipped his head. Smoke rolled from his parting lips and tumbled over yours. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you, or how weak your knees suddenly felt. Grateful that Joost was still holding you, your eyes flicked to his lips as they moved, brushing ever so lightly past your own.

The ghost of a kiss.

Then suddenly, he moved his head away, tilting it as he looked behind you. “Do you mind?”

His voice was sharp all of a sudden, as if he wasn’t happy to be interrupted. And only then did you notice that the doors had been opened. The man who had chased you stood in the doorway, looking bashful and caught. Your friend was off to the side, some of the members of the filming crew standing protectively in front of her, shielding her just in case. Neither of you knew if Peter had actually seen her, but he appeared to be too shocked by what he did find.  

You didn't dare to fully turn around, but you heard the hasty retreat of footsteps, and the slam of the door. No apologize, no nothing. But at least, Peter was gone.

Joost released you, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Guess that takes care of that problem."

Your legs threatened to give out, your heart still racing. "I... Thank you. For saving us. I don't know how to repay you."

He waved a dismissive hand and brought his cigarette back to his lips.

Those lips… You had to tear your eyes away from them, having unintentionally followed the movement of his hands.

Your friend emerged from behind the crew, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "I can't believe that just happened. Joost Klein, of all people..."

You couldn't quite believe it either. But as you stood there, surrounded by the understanding faces of Joost's crew, you had no way to deny this wasn’t real.

Your breath caught in your throat, your pulse quickening at the sight of him. You'd admired him from afar for so long, never dreaming that you'd find yourself in a situation like this. But here he was, ready to step in and play the role of your savior.

You wanted to say something, to tell him how much you appreciated what he'd done, but the words stuck in your throat. He’d already turned his back to you, though he was still lingering a few steps away from you. All you needed to do was speak up. But…He probably had groupies throwing themselves at him all the time. He didn't need another needy fan.

One of his crew members noticed your hesitation, elbowing you gently in the ribs. "Go on," she whispered, nodding towards Joost.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Joost, I..." you started, your voice shaking slightly.

He looked at you, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his head cocked to the side. He tapped the cap of his head, waiting for you to continue.

But you couldn't do it. Couldn't ask for what you really wanted. Damnit. Around you, you heard the voices of the other crew members. The voice of your best friend was among them as she explained in greater detail how life at her home was and how she’d been afraid to lose your friendship. But you didn’t take it all in. To you, these were just voices that were drowned out by the rhythmic beating of your own heart.

"I just wanted to say that I'm a big fan," you said instead, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I'll make sure to show you extra support online."

Joost's eyebrows shot up, a look of surprise flashing across his face. Then he grinned, shaking his head slightly. "Here," he said, with his hand outstretched. “Give me your phone.”

You instantly reached for your phone, fingers fumbling, and stood frozen as Joost – the one and only Joost Klein – stood in front of you with your phone in his hand, typing away as he added his details to your contacts. You must be dreaming… The way he leaned a little forward, the cigarette held between his lips, his blonde bangs brushing the edge of his black-rimmed glasses. Then, all too quickly, he pushed your phone back into your hands.

"In case you ever want to chat."

Your jaw dropped, your fingers trembling around your own phone. "T-thank you," you stuttered. This wasn’t real. Couldn’t be.

Joost just grinned and winked at you before turning away, sauntering back towards his crew. You watched him go, your heart pounding in your ears. You couldn't believe what had just happened. Joost Klein had given you his private contact information.

The brown-haired girl from Joost's crew sauntered over, peering at your phone in your hand.

“Well, that happened,” she said, her eyes sliding from your screen up to meet yours. “Don’t look so shocked. Just don’t share that with anyone else, will ya?”

“I wasn’t planning to,” you stammered. You glanced at your friend, who was watching the exchange with wide eyes. You couldn't help but smile.

This day had taken such an unexpected turn.

For the next couple of minutes, you talked to the girl by your side and slowly got down from your adrenaline high. The crew around you started to bustle, preparing for the next take. Cigarettes were stubbed and you understood it was the end of their break – you were just grateful you’d not interrupted them while actually recording.

Your friend joined you. And although you listened and talked to Joost’s crew and friends, your eyes would at times drift over to where he was, observing him as he talked to others and laughed, swung his arm around one of their shoulders, and smoked the last of his cigarette.

You wished he would turn and look at you, but he never did. Not wanting to be caught watching him, you focused on the conversations around you as best you could. Calls for quiet on the set sounded and the music was turned louder. “It’s time to continue recording,” one of the crew told the two of you. “You can stay and watch if you’re very, very quiet.”

But your friend shook her head, smiling shyly. “Thank you, but I really need to be home in time.”

Ah right, curfew. Her strict parents’ schedule. You forced a smile and joined your friend on the way out. As the two of you prepared to leave, you waved shyly at the crew members who weren’t already back at work and happened to glance your way. They waved back, much to your relief. You ducked your head and pushed against the heavy doors until a sliver of light from outside appeared. You intended to slip out as quickly and quietly as possible, but suddenly, a voice rang out above the music.

"Message me when you get home safe, okay?"

Joost.

You looked back at him, your heart skipping a beat. He was watching you, his expression serious for once, as he stood amidst the others on set. The dancers or extras – you weren’t quite sure – who stood around him looked up and halted their moves. The cameras were already rolling and Joost just stopped midperformance to call after you.

Wow.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

Then you slipped out the door, your friend at your side. As soon as it closed behind you, you both broke into giggles, giddy with excitement and disbelief.

"I can't believe that just happened," your friend gasped, clutching at your arm.

You grinned at her, feeling warm and happy and safe. "Me neither. But I'm glad it did."

[islandinthestars]

Symbol

All Might x f!Reader

Also posted on Ao3

Masterlist

—

The world had always been hungry for absolutes. It begged for an incantation of virtue; someone to embody the very essence of integrity. Plato might have wept to recognize the approximation of Goodness in a man like him. Justice turned into flesh as some would dare say. Yet the philosopher’s error, of course, lay in his hunger for permanence.

Ideals, like all heroes, are perishable. And symbols, even ones like him, were destined to die.

But who was he to be thinking in such philosophical terms?

All Might’s body tensed and he leaped, clearing the distance from his place on the pavement up to the rooftop. The flicker of his legacy was almost mistaken for a glimpse of sunlight. His hand landed on the ledge and he pulled himself up and onto the flat surface. He often came up to this height to think nowadays, when the wound at his abdomen ached and reminded him of mortality.

He put his hand to the throbbing hole in his flesh, feeling the skin where there should have been more than half a stomach. An unbidden cough ripped out of his mouth and a splatter of blood sprayed violently onto his fingers. The pain subsided. He wiped his hand against the lining of his jacket and sat slumped against the ledge, his tensed muscles slowly relaxing into the cool concrete until his body eased into its usual state of exhaustion.

The weight of the world felt heavier in this form, when the brawn and bravado were stripped away and there was nothing but the old, tired frame that remained. It was only here in the quiet that All Might was allowed to be vulnerable, to lay on the rooftop, to look up at the indifferent sprawl of clouds and breathe.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, you know.”

Toshinori’s eyes snapped open. He had always forgotten how quietly she could move with that quirk of hers. Silent as a phantom slipping between Musutafu’s streets. It was through years of familiarity that he recognized the tell-tale sounds of her presence, and that was the sound of nothing.

He turned his head and squinted into the light of the rising sun. She stood above him, her confident figure casting his scrawny form into shadow. A small smile found its way to her lips, but he could still recognize the ever-present sadness in her eyes.

“Relax,” She said, lowering herself next to him, “I just wanted to see you.”

She was a friend. Sometimes more when convenience allowed. Sometimes less when they were both too busy to care about being human. To make the terms between them any less abstract and more palpable had never been attempted. And to define the lines that were blurred was to sever the very connection they had so precariously built over the years. It was an unspoken agreement.

After all, what more could be expected of two people who were just as much concepts as they were individuals?

“You look tense,” She murmured, nudging him with her elbow until he yielded space. He did. “Bad day?”

“Mmm.” Toshinori grunted. “Not particularly. I’m just thinking too much, that’s all.”

“Oh?”

He nodded, “Yeah. I’m getting tired. Or old. Or both. Either way, it’s starting to get to me.”

There was no need for him to elaborate. One for All was not something to be discussed in passing, especially not when the secret of the quirk had been passed down from generation to generation. It was enough that he could confide in her, that he didn’t have to keep up his unceasing smile, at least around her.

She raised an eyebrow but did not press. Instead, he felt her hand run down his arm, felt her lean into him, and her soft hair brush against his cheek. He closed his eyes and exhaled. Even in this diminished form, she still saw him as he was. Perhaps even more so.

“You need to relax,” She murmured again, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, the way you have.”

“I can’t just—”

“You can.” There was no room to argue. “Even for just an hour, you need it. And you know that.”

She was right, of course. But to admit that would be like conceding to his weakness, and even alone with one of the few he could trust, it was not something to be done lightly. Plato had failed to account for the descent of the ideal. How the perfect form might falter.

A distorted shadow was not easily rectified.

Toshinori sighed. His first instinct was to cough up some hollow justification (and likely more blood). “I can try,” He conceded at last.

“That’s all I ask.” Her lips graced his sticklike throat. He held his breath. She shifted then, turning so her back settled against his chest. She relaxed as though they had always fit this way. His arm encircled her waist by instinct, his fingers splaying across the dip of her ribs. For what she was asking of him, this small, impossible stillness…

Perhaps it was not too much.

He exhaled.

“Close your eyes.”

He obeyed.

Her fingers slipped between his. They were warm and soft and small in comparison to his own. He could feel the rhythm of her pulse on her wrist where their skin met. Steady and slow. “What now?” He murmured.

She laughed, low and quiet. “Now you relax.” Her thumb rubbed the base of his palm. “How do you feel?”

“Tense.” The admission surprised even him. More surprising still was the gravity with which she received it, as though his tension were a tangible thing she could unravel with her hands.

“What do you need?”

He could have answered in a dozen different ways. He might have begged for the return of his youth and strength, his golden age when his body was whole. He might have wished away the pain and fatigue that rooted itself in him like a parasite. But philosophy’s perfect Forms meant nothing here. Not when reality offered him this.

“Just...this is fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.” His eyelids lifted. “Maybe just...stay like this for now. Please.”

She studied him and smiled again. That sad little smile of hers before she leaned her head back and kissed the hollows of his cheeks. The gesture was small but he knew it to be one of familiar comfort.

“You don’t have to crucify yourself,” She said. “You’re allowed to be human, Toshi.”

“Hm.” He settled his chin atop her head, staring off into the distance as Musutafu pulsed with life and chaos and all the imperfections of this material world. Symbols existed beyond such frailty. But then again, symbols didn’t bleed. Didn’t tremble. Didn’t cradle beautiful women on rooftops while their wounds throbbed in time with their heartbeat.

The clouds continued to drift and roll across the afternoon blue. In his arms, she shifted, her breathing easing into sleep. Evening would come. The shadows would lengthen, stretching like prisoners toward a truth they’d never grasp. And the world would once again demand its hero.

Maybe for an hour...maybe even less, the world would have to wait.

[arasinchahonghong]

Never mine || C.Sc x H.J

Pairings : C.Sc x reader x H.J

The following content contains a little swearing, feeling betrayed,lashing out,separation,yn's life has other plans.....

It was the smell of freshly baked bread and Seungcheol's booming laugh that usually kicked off Y/N’s day. Every morning, like clockwork, Seungcheol would swing by her bakery, The Daily Crumb, and wait for her to finish her shift before heading over to their usual cafe. The best part? He’d always call her and her best friend, Mina, to coordinate their plans. Y/N's heart would flutter a little whenever his name popped up on her phone, a secret crush she’d nurtured for months.

Today, however, was different. Seungcheol seemed more fidgety than usual, his eyes constantly darting towards the door. “So,” he started, picking at a croissant, “I was thinking we could all go to that new art exhibit downtown this weekend. Just the three of us.”

Y/N’s mind raced. An art exhibit, just them? Could this be it? Was he finally going to confess his feelings? She tried to play it cool, a shy smile gracing her lips. “Sounds good, Seungcheol. Mina, you in?”

Mina, ever the enthusiastic one, beamed. “Absolutely! I’ve been wanting to check that place out.”

Days turned into a whirlwind of texts and calls from Seungcheol, each one making Y/N’s hopes soar higher. He’d ask about her favorite artists, her thoughts on different styles, making her feel like he was genuinely interested in her. He even started bringing her favorite iced americano to the bakery, a gesture that made her colleagues tease her about her "secret admirer."

The day of the exhibit arrived, crisp and bright. Y/N chose her favorite dress, a soft floral print that made her feel confident and pretty. When Seungcheol arrived, he whistled, a genuine admiration in his eyes that made her blush. "You look great, Y/N," he said, and her heart did a happy little jig.

Inside the gallery, Seungcheol was attentive, explaining pieces, laughing at her jokes, and even taking a few goofy selfies with her and Mina. Y/N felt a warmth spread through her, a comfortable ease she only ever felt around him. As they stood in front of a vibrant abstract painting, Seungcheol turned to them, a nervous smile playing on his lips.

“There’s something I wanted to do today,” he began, his voice a little shaky. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.

Y/N’s breath hitched. This was it. This was really it. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears of joy.

But then, he turned.

His eyes, full of adoration and a hopeful vulnerability, weren't on her. They were on Mina.

He got down on one knee, holding out the open box. “Mina, you make every day brighter. You’re my best friend, my confidante, and the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Will you marry me?”

The world tilted. Y/N felt the blood drain from her face, her carefully constructed dreams shattering into a million pieces. Mina gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, tears already welling up as she nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! A thousand times, yes!"

The cheers and applause of other gallery visitors, who had gathered around, sounded like a distant roar. Y/N could feel a cold, hard knot forming in her stomach. Every sweet word, every thoughtful gesture, every hopeful glance – it had all been for Mina. She was just a prop, a convenient conduit to get closer to her best friend.

Without a word, Y/N turned on her heel and pushed her way through the small crowd, the sound of Seungcheol’s happy laugh and Mina’s joyous sobs echoing behind her. She burst out of the gallery, the cool air doing little to extinguish the fire of humiliation and heartbreak burning within her.

Tears streamed down her face as she stumbled blindly down the street. "He used me, that fucking moron!" she choked out, her voice raw with betrayal. The floral dress that had made her feel so confident now felt like a costume in a play where she was merely a forgotten extra.

The sting of betrayal lingered, a bitter taste in Y/N’s mouth for weeks. She avoided calls, skipped their usual cafe, and even considered selling her bakery. But then, one rainy Tuesday, a new regular walked into The Daily Crumb. He had warm eyes and a quiet smile, and his name was Joshua.

He started with a simple black coffee and a croissant, but soon, he was asking about her day, listening intently as she talked about the challenges of running a small business. Joshua was a software engineer, surprisingly empathetic, and he had a way of making her feel seen, truly seen, in a way Seungcheol never had. He never pushed, never pried, just offered a comforting presence and a genuine interest in her.

Slowly, carefully, Y/N started to heal. Joshua didn’t try to replace Seungcheol, or even make her forget him. He simply offered a new, gentle path forward. They started going on walks in the park, discussing books, and sharing quiet dinners. He’d make her laugh with his dry wit, and his steady kindness was a balm to her still-fragile heart.

Then came the wedding invitation. Mina and Seungcheol's wedding. The thought alone was a punch to the gut. Y/N stared at the ornate card, the perfect calligraphy mocking her. She knew she had to go, for Mina, but the idea of facing Seungcheol, of witnessing their happiness, twisted her stomach.

“I… I don’t know if I can do it,” she confessed to Joshua one evening, tracing the rim of her teacup.

Joshua reached across the table and gently covered her hand. “You don’t have to go alone,” he said softly, his eyes full of understanding. “I’ll go with you, if you want. As your plus one.”

His offer was a lifeline. Y/N looked at him, really looked at him, and saw not just a good guy, but a genuinely kind and supportive soul. “Would you, Joshua? Really?”

He nodded, a reassuring smile on his face. “Of course. I’ll even wear a ridiculous tuxedo if it helps.”

The wedding day arrived, bright and sun-drenched, a cruel contrast to the storm brewing inside Y/N. Joshua, true to his word, looked impeccably handsome in his dark suit, his presence a comforting anchor as they walked into the opulent venue. He subtly guided her through the bustling crowd, making small talk with distant relatives and offering a quiet word of encouragement whenever he sensed her waver.

When Mina walked down the aisle, radiant in her white gown, Y/N felt a pang of conflicting emotions. Joy for her best friend, yes, but also a lingering ache from what could have been. She glanced at Seungcheol, who was beaming, and for the first time, she felt a flicker of genuine indifference towards him. He looked happy, and she realized, with a surprising sense of clarity, that his happiness no longer dictated hers.

During the reception, Joshua was a revelation. He charmed her aunt, laughed at her uncle’s terrible jokes, and even managed to get her usually reserved cousin to dance. He never left her side, always there with a quiet smile, a comforting touch on her arm, or a whispered joke to lighten the mood.

As the evening wore on, Mina, flushed with happiness, made her way to Y/N. "Y/N! You came!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her best friend. "And who's this handsome man?"

Y/N smiled, a genuine, unforced smile. "Mina, this is Joshua. Joshua, this is Mina, the bride."

Joshua bowed slightly, his smile charming. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mina. Y/N has told me so much about you."

Mina beamed, then turned to Y/N, her eyes twinkling. "I see you're doing just fine, my dear."

Y/N's gaze met Joshua's, and in his warm, steady eyes, she saw a future that was bright and filled with promise, a future entirely her own. She was more than fine. She was finally free.

Do you want to explore what happens next for Y/N and Joshua, or perhaps delve into how Y/N's friendship with Mina evolves after the wedding?

The wedding had been a turning point. Y/N felt lighter, as if a heavy burden she hadn't realized she was carrying had finally lifted. With Joshua by her side, navigating the polite smiles and veiled glances at the reception had been manageable. She even managed a genuine hug with Mina and Seungcheol, feeling a strange sense of peace.

Life with Joshua settled into a comfortable rhythm. He was steady, reliable, and his quiet humor often made her laugh until her sides hurt. Their dates were simple but meaningful – cooking together, exploring new neighborhoods, or just spending hours talking on her bakery’s porch swing after closing. Y/N found herself looking forward to their time together, a warmth blooming in her chest that was far more enduring than the fleeting infatuation she’d felt for Seungcheol.

The Unsettling Call

A few months later, the calm was shattered by an unexpected call from Mina.

"Y/N," Mina’s voice was strained, thick with unshed tears. "Can you come over? Please? I… I need to talk."

Y/N’s heart sank. She hadn't heard Mina sound so distraught since before the wedding. Rushing to Mina and Seungcheol's new apartment, Y/N found her best friend huddled on the sofa, eyes red and swollen.

"He… he wants me to quit my job," Mina finally choked out, her voice barely a whisper. "He says it’s too demanding, that we’ll be starting a family soon and I should focus on that. He wants me to be a stay-at-home wife."

Y/N frowned. Mina, a fiercely ambitious architect, had always dreamed of building her own firm. "But that’s your dream, Mina. You’ve worked your entire life for this."

Mina nodded, tears welling up again. "I know! And he just… he dismisses it like it's nothing. He says I’m being selfish. He says I don’t care about our future." Her voice rose, tinged with a bitterness Y/N hadn’t heard before. "He used to be so supportive! He used to tell me how amazing I was for pursuing my passion. He even told me he wanted me to work harder and get recognized! Now, it's all about his needs, his plans, his future."

The Cracks Show

Over the next few weeks, Y/N found herself spending more time with Mina, listening to her increasingly frequent complaints about Seungcheol. He was becoming possessive, constantly checking her phone, questioning where she was, and making snide remarks about her friendships. His once charming assertiveness had morphed into controlling behavior.

One afternoon, Mina was at The Daily Crumb, recounting a particularly nasty fight they’d had. "He actually yelled at me, Y/N. He said I was 'ungrateful' for everything he provides. He told me I should be lucky to have him."

Y/N felt a cold dread creep up her spine. "Mina, this isn't right. He's trying to isolate you."

Mina scoffed, a brittle, humorless sound. "And you know so much about relationships, don't you? You've always been the one who gets dumped, or used! Remember how he used you to get to me?" The words, sharp and laced with a sudden, venomous resentment, hung in the air.

Y/N flinched as if slapped. The old wound, barely scarred over, ripped open. Her mind flashed back to the art gallery, to the crushing realization, to the feeling of being a pawn. "Mina, that's not fair," Y/N said, her voice shaking. "I'm trying to help you. And yes, I was used by him, and that makes me understand exactly what kind of person he can be."

"Oh, so now you're the expert on Seungcheol? Because you had a little crush on him?" Mina retorted, her eyes narrowed. "Don't pretend like you weren't obsessed with him! You were practically throwing yourself at him! Maybe if you weren't so transparent, he wouldn't have had to go through you to get to me!"

The accusation hit Y/N hard. "That's a horrible thing to say, Mina," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. "I thought you were my best friend. I thought you understood."

"I do understand," Mina snapped, standing up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly across the bakery floor. "I understand that you're just jealous. You always wanted what I had, didn't you? Even Seungcheol." She grabbed her bag, her face contorted in a mix of anger and hurt. "Maybe you should just stick to your little bakery and your perfect new boyfriend. I don't need your judgment."

With that, Mina stormed out, leaving Y/N alone amidst the comforting scent of baked goods, the silence deafening. The argument left Y/N reeling, the echoes of Mina’s words a fresh wound. Was this truly the end of their friendship? And what did this mean for Mina's own happiness, caught in the grip of a man who was slowly revealing his true, toxic colors?

Years, like fallen leaves, drifted by, each one carrying with it echoes of the past and the steady hum of the present. Y/N's bakery, The Daily Crumb, was thriving. Joshua had moved in with her, their shared life a comforting tapestry of inside jokes, lazy Sundays, and unwavering support. Their love had grown, quiet and deep, built on understanding and genuine affection.

One crisp autumn morning, as the scent of cinnamon rolls filled the air, Y/N found herself staring at a beautifully embossed invitation. It was white and gold, simple yet elegant, announcing the wedding of Y/N and Joshua. After years of building their life together, they were finally ready to tie the knot.

A knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach. There was one person she knew she had to invite, despite the lingering sting of their last encounter. Mina. Their friendship had never fully recovered from that harsh argument in the bakery. Brief, stilted phone calls on birthdays were the most contact they'd had, the old intimacy a distant memory.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N drove to Mina and Seungcheol's house, a spacious suburban home with a manicured lawn and a bright red swing set in the yard. As she walked up the path, a small, cherubic face peeked out from behind the curtains. A moment later, the door opened, and Mina stood there, looking older, perhaps a little tired, but still undeniably Mina.

"Y/N?" Mina's voice was a soft whisper, laced with surprise.

"Hi, Mina," Y/N replied, a nervous smile playing on her lips. She held out the envelope. "I… I came to give you this."

Mina took the invitation, her eyes widening as she read the names. "Oh, Y/N," she murmured, a fresh wave of emotion washing over her face. Just then, a little girl with bright, curious eyes and Seungcheol's mischievous grin toddled into the hallway, clutching a worn teddy bear.

"Mama, who's that?" the child asked, peering shyly from behind Mina's legs.

"This is Auntie Y/N, sweetie," Mina said, her voice catching. She knelt down, gently pushing a strand of hair from her daughter's face. "This is my daughter, Hyejin."

Y/N’s heart softened immediately. Hyejin was beautiful, a perfect blend of Mina and Seungcheol, innocent and unaware of the complicated history that had shaped her parents' lives and her mother's friendship. Y/N offered a gentle wave, and Hyejin, after a moment of hesitation, waved back with a tiny hand.

Mina stood up, her gaze fixed on Y/N, tears welling in her eyes. "Y/N," she began, her voice cracking, "I am so, so sorry."

Before Y/N could respond, Mina stepped forward, enveloping her in a fierce hug. It was a hug that spoke of years of unspoken guilt, of regret, and of a deep, enduring affection that had been buried under layers of hurt and pride.

"I was awful to you," Mina sobbed into Y/N's shoulder, her tears wetting Y/N’s shirt. "I was so lost, so miserable. He… he had me convinced I was the problem. I lashed out at you because you were the only one who saw it, the only one who was brave enough to tell me. I let him isolate me. I was so angry, and scared, and I took it all out on you. Please, Y/N, can you ever forgive me?"

Y/N held her tight, a lump forming in her own throat. The anger, the hurt, the feeling of being used – it was all still there, but muted, softened by time and by the raw vulnerability of Mina’s confession. She felt a profound sense of relief, a release of tension she hadn't realized she was still carrying.

"It's okay, Mina," Y/N whispered, her own eyes now damp. "It's okay. We were both hurting." She pulled back slightly, looking into Mina’s tear-streaked face. "I'm so glad you called."

Mina nodded, sniffing. "I'm so happy for you and Joshua," she said, clutching the invitation to her chest. "He seems wonderful. You deserve all the happiness in the world."

The hug was renewed, longer this time, a silent promise of mended bridges and a rekindled friendship. In the background, little Hyejin, sensing the change in the air, toddled over and tugged on Mina's dress, her big eyes observing the emotional reunion. The past was still a part of them, but in that moment, with the warmth of an old friend's embrace and the innocent curiosity of a child, the future felt brighter, and the possibility of a truly healed friendship stretched out before them.

The Wedding Day and Mina's Confession

The wedding day dawned, a vibrant symphony of spring. Y/N, radiant in a flowing ivory gown, felt a serene joy as she prepared. Joshua, waiting at the altar, looked at her with a depth of love that made her heart swell. The ceremony was intimate, filled with laughter and tears, a testament to the patient, enduring love they had built.

During the reception, as the fairy lights twinkled and soft music played, Mina approached Y/N, a quiet determination in her eyes. Hyejin, looking adorable in a little dress, clung to her leg. "Y/N," Mina began, her voice steady, "I have something to say, not just to you, but to everyone."

A hush fell over their small circle of friends and family as Mina took a deep breath. "Many years ago," she started, her gaze meeting Y/N's, "I made a terrible mistake. I hurt my best friend, Y/N, deeply. I was in a difficult place, caught in a relationship that was slowly eroding me. I lashed out, unfairly and cruelly, at the person who truly cared for me and was trying to help." She squeezed Hyejin's hand. "It took me a long time to see clearly, and even longer to find the courage to truly apologize."

She turned to Y/N, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Y/N, I am so profoundly sorry for everything I said and did. Your friendship means the world to me, and I cherish you. You deserved so much better from me."

Y/N, her own eyes moist, simply nodded, a silent acceptance of the apology she had long awaited.

A New Beginning for Mina

Later that evening, after the last dance and as guests slowly departed, Mina lingered. "Seungcheol and I… we're separating," she confessed softly, her gaze distant. "It's been a long time coming. The patterns, the control… it only got worse. I stayed for Hyejin, thinking it was best for her. But seeing you and Joshua, seeing what real partnership looks like, I realized I was doing her a disservice by staying in such an unhappy, unhealthy environment."

A wave of relief washed over Y/N. "Mina, I'm so sorry you went through that, but I'm so incredibly proud of you," she said, pulling her into a tight hug.

"It won't be easy," Mina admitted, a flicker of fear in her eyes. "But I have my career, and I have Hyejin. And now," she squeezed Y/N's hand, "I have you back."

Y/N smiled, a sense of completion settling over her. The painful past was finally laid to rest, replaced by the promise of a renewed friendship and a future built on genuine connection. The wedding wasn't just a celebration of her and Joshua's love; it was also the dawn of a new, authentic chapter for Mina, and a testament to the enduring power of forgiveness and growth.

Life, like the bakery's daily bread, continued to rise, sometimes slowly, sometimes with a burst of warmth, but always moving forward, carrying the sweet aroma of fresh starts and mended bonds.

[windvexer]

what's your opinion on pop culture witchcraft? i think it seems really fun and cool im just not sure how exactly a fictional god will manifest in the "real" world? i was just curious on what you thought :p thank you for your time!

I think that pop culture witchcraft is beautiful and sacred and I think more people should get into it!

My views on the intersection of popular culture (aka, the dominant cultural beliefs and creations at this moment in time) and witchcraft originate from the fact that when I began doing a lot of energy work, I saw a lot of stuff as video game characters & assets.

If I would binge any video game, for the next little while, a lot of my energy readings would be output in the symbols and lore from that game.

E.g., a pokemon binge, seeing Gengar near the querent: "Yes, you're being haunted by a ghost."

A DAO binge, seeing a dryad writing a letter to the querent: "A tree wants to talk to you."

These experiences have deeply influenced my beliefs on the nature of psychism, communing with the spirit world, and divination as a whole. It has inspired my beliefs on how to work with divinatory tools, especially my concepts of choosing your own symbol sets to work with.

After all, an upright triangle is so abstract, but a charmander? For many of us, that is a deeply rooted symbol of fire indeed! And I can't imagine how a triangle might act if it needs to be revived and balanced in my life, but I can surely visualize a charmander feeling sick and cold, or desperately trying to stack and balance heavy boxes.

This inspired me to consider the intersection of popular culture and the experiential nature of witchcraft. After all, aren't so many of us deeply imprinted on and influenced by what culture has told us about magic and spirits? Where is the line in the sand between how culture makes us interact with magic (path), and how culture makes us interact with magic (practice)?

Let me tell you a story!!

There is some internet monster named Momo. Momo has a *very* scary face (to me at least) so be warned if you google.

But when this story starts, I had never heard of Momo. I had never seen a picture of Momo or heard her name. Yes? Yes.

Now one time, I was doing an energy reading for a person, and I saw a horrifying monster woman with huge eyes and a twisted smile like a V slashed across her face, and not only this, but the horrifying monster woman was standing over the querent's bed, watching them sleep.

As a reader with about an ounce of wisdom, I knew much better than to say, "hey, a horrifying monster is watching you while you sleep." Because that is a dick thing to say to anyone.

As I continued watching to try and gain more information, it struck me that this monster woman wasn't threatening at all. She didn't have bad vibes. In fact she seemed neutral, or perhaps even an ally. She was just watching the person sleep.

I couldn't help but notice, however, that I could see her face so clearly. So distinctly. So I googled something like, "big smile scary woman face."

And there she was: Momo! The exact monster I was seeing. It was a startling moment, made all the more strange by the fact that this wasn't some monster of mythical lore or legend. It was like, a TikTok trend or something.

Finally I had to tell the querent something. Now y'all this happened some years ago and I don't remember exactly how it went down, but it was like this:

"Hey, someone is watching you sleep. The form is scary looking but they don't seem threatening at all. I googled it and it looks exactly like an internet urban legend named Momo."

"What? My cat?"

"No, it's a woman, an urban legend named Momo."

"No, my cat Momo. My cat is named Momo. She watches me while I sleep."

So to answer your question, Anon:

I expect that a fictional god can manifest at least as bizarrely as a real cat, I believe that the simple phrase "real world" is an artifact that fits into few reliquaries of the occult, and I think that pop culture witchcraft is absolutely fabulous.

[acevity]

thats it. smacks you guys with a snippet from a wip.

-

Its not her fault that every new appearance of theirs ignites an urge to draw! How was she supposed to resist when they wander into the common area with such unique accessories and takes on their limbs! Ideas and variations that she could never have considered and worn with such a cool aura!

"Did you make these?" They hummed, a hand flipping through the layers of pinned sketches and studying each intently. Part of her screamed 'No duh!!!! Who's room are you in!!', but the other just rolled in panic. What if Zooble hated them? What if they wanted to mock her for it? What if they think she’s terrible no good awful and should be thrown in the cellar because of her comics? Did they see her art of her ocs kissing?!

Quick, make up a good lie.

"Yeah, I uh. I did." That was not a lie, Gangle!! That was very much the truth! Her nerves grew twisted as she began to ramble. "I think Caine's avatar creation is interesting and I like seeing all the new forms people come in as. Like - Like your’s, with all the variations you can change into! It’s so neat!" 

Zooble blinked at that, their antennae swaying slightly in what Gangle could only assume was pure hatred and wishing for her to explode and die. Their silence lingered, fraying her already rattled nerves further. She twirled her hands together, nearly knotting them up as she spoke, “I just. I think it’s cool. That you can get creative with it.”

Their gaze turned back to the cork board. Gangle wanted to abstract. “Would you draw something for me?” The question startled her, jerking back into reality with a soft ‘huh?’. When Gangle just stared, Zooble continued. “I like your art. I want some in my room.”

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Do they keep a diary/a journal?

Mal - yes, actually. But no gross feelings stuff, ew. Just drawings. ...Of various levels of "disturbing". (Peak being begining of D2, of course)

Jay - nah. Better stuff to do. Also lowkey paranoid it'll be stolen.

Evie - yes, technically, multiple. She keeps one journal to jot down what was when done to any potions she's brewing (the correct scientific procedure), her fashion one, of course, for whatever designs she dreams of, and lastly, one to note down orders and payments for her shop.

Carlos - nah. He's got a collection of loose papers with important and "important" info on them. His cousins still keep finding them in Hell Hall. Jay has to move them from his parts of the room regularly. Mal found papers stuck in between her journal.

Uma - no. WAY more important shit to do, and she finds it way too sentimental. She keeps records of stuff important for the running of her crew, but doesn't consider it a journal, rather a public record.

Harry - yes. To the surprise if absolutely no one, the thing he writes most about is Uma. There are several original songs and poems for her as well. He wouldn't mind if she found it.

Gil - I wanna say yes, he tries. He's not very consistent though. The only thing he writes about is his friends and crewmates – he accidentally puts it down in the common space of the ship often, and most of the crewmates picked it up once. Cos, y'know. You see, you take. If they read it, they began blushing furiously under the excited "My friends are SO cool" Gil wrote and gave it back to him without a word.

Claudine - once she stops living with her father, yes, though it took some convincing. She doesn't write regularly, though, because she just doesn't know what to write, and is afraid of putting her thoughts on the paper. Later, she writes poems in letters so small it's illegible, since poetry masks the true self a bit.

Harriet - yes. She writes regularly, though not a lot of feelings stuff. She writes poems and vague stories draws whatever comes to her mind (mostly abstract stuff) and keeps it tightly locked up in her cabin, since that shit is DARK. Smee twins accidentally found it once and Sammy kept complaining they were afraid of her drawings for two weeks straight.

CJ - ...she tries to. It never lasts more than two days in row. But she adds new disjointed entry every time she's reminded that her older siblings do so. It's actually extremely disturbing in different way than Harriet's since she has ZERO ability to self-censor.

Freddie - two. One for music and one for dreams and card readings.

Celia - one. Dreams and Cards and Friends on the other side. Though, technically, both sisters share another one, written in cryptic code and abbreviations and moved from place to place with regularity but without a set schedule. This one is about secrets of the Isle residents, the ones they bother or dare to write down.

Dizzy - I wanna say yes, actual diary, feelings and all. To utter exasperation of all her older relatives.

Anthony - no, keeping tabs on the salon is enough, thank you.

Dulcia - look, my girl deserves a Burn Book.

Ginny - not really. If she absolutely NEEDS something noted down, she tells Anthony. Exception being medical notes at the Escape but she delegates paperwork away any time she can. Also, I feel like her handwriting is borderline illegible to anyone but her and the three people she shares mental disturbances with (Maddy, Anthony, Harriet)

Maddy - she keeps tabs on the Apothecary and like Evie, writes down the shit she's synthetising. It's only correct to do.

Ivy - Yeah she gets a burn book too. She deserves it <3. It's in one notebook with scraps from fashion magasines and and some kaligrams. (Again, that's a form of self-censure. Can't read it, so it isn't there.)

I think I ran out of Isle kids, so AKs (all regarding a diary):

Audrey - canonically she does, I have nothing else to add.

Ben - he tries to, but he doesn't manage to write regularly, what with being a CHILD KING and all. It's healthy for him tho. Took the habit from his mother.

Chad - I refuse to believe this boy has a diary. He views it as "useless" and "too feminine".

Jane - yes, actual diary full of feelings. Starting each entry with "dear diary". She locks it religiously though, since her mother can and will read it if give an oppurtunity to.

Ally - yes and frankly it should be studied and/or published (with different names for the sake of privacy, but i'd pay a lot to read a diary of Ally Liddel of Wonderland)

Lonnie - ...no. she tried to, few times, but never quite managed more than few entries in a row. She doesn't particularly like sitting still, and fancies the thought of someone actually reading what she thinks about certain stuff even less.

Jordan - ...she uses her blogs and vlogs as a diary. The more private ones. Not her Drama Channel.

[papermatisse]

Lost and Found || B.BH

♔ pairing: dionysus!byun baekhyun x f!ariadne!reader

♔ genre: angst, one-shot, fluff

♔ word count: 3.5k

♔ warnings: abandonment, murder

♔ abstract: Love comes with all kinds of sacrifices, and after everything she'd sacrificed for her own hopeful romance, all she really wanted was a lover to live with for the rest of her mortal existence. Though the universe—and for that matter the gods who inhabit it—has a cruel sense of humor.

♔ author's note: I've been thinking of writing a Greek mythology story for all of the exos (ot8 [minus Chen, the nation's husband and father]). I have a few plans already, though this one felt the easiest and quickest to execute cause I really wanted to test out and fix my link/tag issue on here 😔

for context, here's a rough synopsis of the Theseus story: the king of Crete angered Poseidon who cursed the queen into woohooing with the king's bull, thus creating a minotaur named Asterion. mortified by this creation, they banished him into a maze and alienated him as if he were nothing, thus creating the bloodthirsty monster he was. the king's son went to Athens bc they themselves had a minotaur problem, but their minotaur wound up killing him. the king of Crete blamed the king of Athens and after some altercations, it resulted in an annual tradition of sending a select few Athenians to serve as tribute and be eaten by Asterion. one of these tributes was Theseus, son of the king of Athens, and he actually defeated the Athenian minotaur. to help him in defeating Asterion, the Crete king's daughter, Ariadne, gave Theseus yarn so he'd be able to navigate the maze, which helped him in killing Asterion. afterwards, they sailed to Naxos, where he abandoned her. interpretations vary of course, but most involve Dionysus marrying Ariadne afterwards bc he fell in love w her.

masterlist

Nestled within the Aegean Sea, lost amongst the plethora of islands which dotted the cerulean expanse of the ocean, lays the idyllic yet ever forlorn island of Naxos. Viridescent fields of crops and greenery encompass the entirety of the island, sloped along the verdant hills which make up its landscape. The only obstruction to its rolling plains was that of its mountain at the very heart of the island, as well as the sandy beaches which encircled it all in a protective ring of golden grains.

Upon first arrival, it had seemed nothing short of picturesque—perhaps even going so far as being the most beautiful sight she'd ever observed in her rather dull and sheltered life thus far. The warmth of the sand which greeted her once she'd hopped off the boat felt like the welcoming embrace of a new start, the fine grains sinking beneath her every step as if accommodating to her new presence. The seas lapped against the shores as if reaching out to her, waving—both metaphorically and literally—like it were greeting an old friend. And the winds which carried with it the strong aroma of sea salt and petrichor encompassed her being in a cool and refreshing embrace, nearly cementing the thought that circulated in her head of what a perfectly quaint and romantic escape Naxos was for her and her lover to settle in and establish their new lives together.

At least that's how it had all felt no more than a day ago. It was astounding how much could change upon settling down to rest after the strenuous voyage to Naxos. A mere daytime nap, meant to simply reinvigorate her, had suddenly turned her whole world upside down, because upon opening her eyes, her lover, with whom she'd risked her entire life in order to save, had all but vanished: him, his boat, and by extension, her heart along with him. She couldn't even see a single speck of him remaining on the horizon, and the thought that he had left her the moment she'd fallen asleep felt ever more disparaging.

Now, she sat along the shore. The sands, cooled with the setting sun, cradled her dejected form. The cacophony of waves crashing against the island served to drown out her cries. And the winds, which had grown significantly weaker as the day waned, brushed against her face as if to gently wipe away her tears. Naxos, with its surreal beauty and tender acceptance, had become no more a prison prompted by her own circumstances just as her accomodations had been on Crete. Exchanging one pitiful excuse of a home for another, though now she was utterly alone.

And all she could do was cry to herself. Cry over her foolishness to have risked everything for a boy she'd fallen for so rashly. Cry over her imminent future and the dread of the unknown which lay in waiting for her. Cry over the abandonment and outright rejection from someone she once believed to be her soulmate.

What a miserable life she led.

What a tragic course of events she followed.

What an absolutely pathetic human being she was.

And how utterly vexing it was that she could not even wallow in her own self-pity by her lonesome for very long.

“(y/n)?”

Her body seemed to register the foreign voice before her mind had, as she slowly turned her tear stricken face towards the newcomer. Though once her eyes met those of the familiar deity, now standing a mere few feet away from her, she quickly turned back to her original position, staring out at the sea. By now, the harsh line of the horizon had become ingrained into her corneas, remaining in her vision even when her eyes were closed, yet she continued to stare forward, hoping to find a stray boat somewhere in the distance. Hoping to see her beloved rushing back to her as if his initial departure was nothing more than an accident. Hoping to fall back into his arms and forget the worries incessantly plaguing her mind.

Though once more, these desires went unanswered, and instead, she was met by this ever so gentle touch skimming carefully over her back.

“(y/n), look at me.”

The demand hadn't held much of an authoritative tone, more so that of an insistent plea, one where she could faintly discern the shreds of desperation laced in between. Yet she remained as is, eyes trained on the ocean, waiting. She thought by ignoring him, he'd leave her alone. Allow her to grieve in peace without his mischief and revelric tendencies. Let her sulk in her misfortune without being reminded of her affiliation with him. Yet he could not even spare her this one luxury.

Instead, in her periphery, she found him crouching onto the sand beside her, seating himself in a way so he could remain attached to her side. The heavy weight of his gaze lingered upon her, even as she attempted to ignore his presence as a whole. Though he seemed none the wiser to her efforts, or perhaps he merely couldn't care less what she thought of him—not that she's out right proclaimed her opinion of said god, but from mere context clues given their history together, she was sure he had a general understanding of where she stands with him.

It had been a few years since she first met Baekhyun. A rather untimely meeting with the god of wine and revelry, one marked by unrequited affections which has since plagued her every waking moment. She had never processed how burdensome it could become to be the apple of one's eye, especially if that particular person was a deity of Baekhyun's caliber, and one she felt nothing towards. And even now as she tends to a broken heart, abandoned on a remote island in the middle of nowhere with no means of escape, she still couldn't conceal the discomfort she felt in Baekhyun's presence, knowing fully well of his affections and how he had been waiting for her answer to his proposal.

Though unlike all the other times he’s randomly materialized before her, usually wreaking of that sickly sweet aroma of wine and teasing her relentlessly until she was pleading for him to leave her be, he sat there calmly and quietly, waiting for her to acknowledge him. It was a peculiar shift in his modus operandi, one that did not go by unnoticed by (y/n), yet even with the silence he granted her, she couldn't bear to speak to him as she usually would.

Humiliation silently lingered in the air even before she could say anything. She didn't know what she'd tell Baekhyun had he pestered her in his usual manner. The last thing on her mind was telling the man who proposed to her—with whom she'd essentially left unanswered—that the man she intended on running away with forever had all but left her stranded on an island to die in solitude. Though somehow, there was a small inkling in her that felt like Baekhyun already knew. And perhaps a smaller, more hopeful part of her believed he was here not to torment her, but rather to check up on her, ensure she was fairing well.

Hesitantly, her eyes strayed from where they'd been zeroed in along the horizon, sparing Baekhyun a small and brief glance.

It was odd. His eyes seemed duller now, a more muted umber tone devoid of that trademark glint he usually dons when running amok. He usually always bore this confident, bordering on cocky, grin that seemed all too pleased with himself and his shenanigans, yet now his lips were naturally downturned, perhaps the first time she's ever seen his mouth in its natural resting position. Even his scent was more subdued, and she was able to pick up the rich undertones of grapes usually concealed by his alcoholic carousing. His gaze was dropped, steadily trained on her hands laying in her lap, and the undivided attention only prompted more discomfort on her part as she fiddled with the fabric of her dress.

She had half a mind to ask him if he was okay, momentarily forgetting her own plight once she saw the shift in demeanor of Baekhyun. Though the silence that encompassed them prompted her own wariness in approaching the subject.

And so they remained as is, the sun now meeting the horizon, igniting the sky into a mural of warm, fiery hues. As the sun continued to set, it dyed the blue depth of the waters into a color akin to wine with its deep and rich crimson shade.

Without realizing it, her mind had begun wandering back to Baekhyun, curious as to why he remained by her side even as she ignored him. And though she didn't know for how long she'd strayed with these thoughts, she did know it was his presence alone that managed to briefly distract her from her current situation.

“Why are you here?” (y/n) asked, voice gravelly from misuse. For a moment, she was met with silence, the ocean serving as white noise to fill the void. But as she dared another glance his way, she saw his somber countenance. It was a foreign expression to be gracing his face, and she found herself intrigued by the furrow of his brow as he remained lost in thought.

“I went to visit you on Crete…” He finally responded, the timbre of his voice lowering with raw solemnity. “I know how you get with the annual tributes, so I wanted to be there for you.”

She shied away at this, never fully processing how Baekhyun's sporadic appearances coincided with certain times. And it was true. Every year as the Athenian tributes arrived on Crete, she distanced herself until after these events were done and over with. Though as she now recollected memories from recent years, she began putting together Baekhyun's arrivals were never truly as spontaneous as she first made them out to be.

He was always there whenever she was at her lowest. She thought it was intentional as a way of tormenting her when she's at rock bottom, but as he continued speaking, a pit of remorse began accumulating within her heart.

“Instead, I was met with… chaos. Carnage. Disorder.” He paused, turning his head in a direction she could only assume was where Crete faced. “Asterion was dead. A tribute had escaped. And the princess had all but disappeared.”

At his final statement, (y/n) stared down in shame. She knew there would be repercussions for her actions, but she thought she'd have been long gone at this point. Too far away to even spare a moment of regret for having abandoned her family and her kingdom. Yet it all came back to bite her. Her brother, cursed and estranged as he was, had been killed. Theseus, her lover who she assisted the entire way through, had been the one to kill him. And she, princess of Crete, had run off in the midst of this mayhem.

“I'm sorry…” (y/n) whispered, voice strained as she fought back tears. “I'm so sorry. I just couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't bear to see more death. Every single year without fail they'd send these Athenians off to die by my brother's hands. And we'd just have to sit there and watch. Watch as they all lost themselves to the labyrinth. And Asterion would…”

As if having finally broken the floodgates, tears began streaming down her face without fail. The tragic life of her brother, born a monster and treated as such. And even if she had never interacted with him, even as she witnessed his bloodshed year after year, the knowledge of his death being instigated by her own involvement was debilitating enough to ground her back into reality.

The gravity of her predicament began to settle in. Sitting on an island, hopelessly waiting for a guy she had only just met and was ready to run away with forever. The realization that he used her for his own benefit, exploited her blind affections towards him only to then leave her for dead. He had probably already returned to Athens, assumed the role of hero who killed the minotaur of Crete—as well as that of their princess. And she sat there, longing for him for hours at a time, seated beside Dionysus himself. The absurdity of it all was almost laughable, and she'd probably be doing just that if it weren't for the overwhelming humiliation she felt coiled and festering within her.

“I helped him…” She confessed aloud. “I gave him the thread so he wouldn't get lost in the maze. I was the one who helped him defeat Asterion. I was the one who helped him escape. It was all my doing. And he left me here as repayment.”

Before she could continue, Baekhyun had suddenly shifted from his position, arms wrapping around her tightly and dragging her into his embrace. Any other time, she'd probably have swatted at him whilst yelling profanities, all while he laughed in delight at her hostility.

Yet now his touch didn't feel repulsive.

She could feel his warmth fully encompassing her, shielding her from the outside world. His hands clung to her body as if afraid she'd slip away from him at any moment. And now closer to him than ever before, she could smell his true aroma past the wine. An almost woodsy scent, just as warm as he was. Fruits and earth and nature as a whole. Faintly, she could smell the ocean intermingling with his scent.

It was so peculiar the way that distinct saltiness had first felt like a refreshing start to a new life, though shifted into an overwhelming and paralyzing apprehension that infested every aspect of her being. Though now, in Baekhyun's protective arms, it felt comforting. As if he himself dispelled it and this island of any and all of its negativity that consumed her.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the tension from her body had melted away. The sound of his heartbeat coinciding with that of the calm waves was like a melodious harmony that transcended her into a state of utter tranquility. His breathing lulled her away from the worries that tormented her heart, and she finally felt at peace.

“Did you love him?” Baekhyun asked. His tone was more inquisitive than anything else. There were no hidden intentions with his question, and although hesitant to admit it aloud to him, for fear of hurting him, (y/n) felt at ease with telling Baekhyun the truth he sought.

“Yes,” she responded quietly. “But I regret it. I regret it all.”

“Don't.” His grip tightened around her, pressing his forehead against the top of her head. “You shouldn't regret the love you give people. Don't let this foolish boy disparage you from expressing yourself to your fullest potential.”

(y/n) remained quiet, surprised by the turn of the events, though still listening intently to Baekhyun's words.

“I've always held such deep admiration towards you. From the moment I met you till now. I could see the way you loved so genuinely and fully. And I thought it was beautiful. I thought you were beautiful. You shouldn't grieve over an unrequited love. Loss serves as a reminder of the love we once felt, and the remorse we feel further exemplifies that. Your love is something so wonderful. Something I adore greatly.”

As he spoke, his warmth seemed to intensify. Filled with familiarity and security, coaxing her further into his embrace until she buried herself into the crook of his neck. He held her as if she were everything he had ever asked for. His touch was like ambrosia and nectar, the sweetest of prose to ever be professed, a safety like no other.

“I find myself wanting to be inconvenienced by you. I want to have you distracting me by lingering in my thoughts. I want to take time out of my day just to see you. I want to love you, even if you don't love me.”

At this, a sob slipped past her lips, and she clung onto him harder. Away from it all, everything inside her felt tumultuous and heightened. All of the emotions she'd been bottling up for years seemed to overflow in Baekhyun's presence alone. Her heart ached with grief, remorse, hatred, anger, defeat. Yet it also sang like never before, healing itself from years of anguish and torment.

And after the cathartic intervention came to a conclusion, faces marred by dried tears and eyes reddened with strain, a peaceful serenity had settled over the two. By now, the sun had long set. The cool of the night had begun penetrating the warmth of their embrace. The sand beneath them no longer retained the heat of the afternoon sun. The oceans were calm and still. The winds now settled into a gentle breeze. The world was asleep, silent in every regard. The day had ended and (y/n) had made it out alive, no doubt due to Baekhyun's influence.

Panic begin settling in her as he shifted, rising to his feet and pulling her up with him. Though when she met his gaze, loving and sweet and attentive, she began to settle once more. His hands held her own, thumbs softly brushing over her knuckles, all the while maintaining his sight on her face.

“What would you like to do?” He asked. “I can build you a palace here on Naxos, away from the cruelties of the world and the people who inhabit it.” His smile grew wider, bearing that familiar wickedness whenever he was up to no good. “I could overthrow the monarchy of Crete and reinstate you as its sole sovereign, allow you to redeem yourself and your honor, perhaps even reestablish Crete as a just and fair kingdom.” Both options were tempting, neither having any inherent consequences as long as Baekhyun held sway in their components. And she could tell Baekhyun had more to say, but she quickly intercepted before he could propose another offer.

“I want to be with you.” Baekhyun blinked at this, chuckling as if she were telling a joke.

“I will be there. You can't get rid of me that easily.”

“No.” Her hands slipped from his, reaching forth to cup his cheeks and bring him closer. “I choose you, Baekhyun.”

She pressed her lips against his own, soft and delicate. He seemed stunned for a moment, his body moving subconsciously for the first second or two, but once he had fully processed where he was and what was happening, Baekhyun began reciprocating. He kissed back just as earnestly, his hands reaching up to hold onto her wrists as he poured every ounce of his adoration into her. And (y/n) couldn't help but think how perfect it was.

She'd always thought love at first sight was perhaps the most romantic of gestures one could have. The act of finding your soulmate from a single encounter seemed so otherworldly and unmatched. Yet here in this moment with Baekhyun's body pressed against her own as he drew impossibly closer to her, his hands softly wandering in an attempt to map her form into his memory, she found this very moment to be the epitome of what love should be. A gradual fall into love. In a way, she can reminisce on growth and development, reflect on what was not there and how it came to be.

One of his hands had wandered to her hair, gently carding his fingers through the strands, and the other drew patterns on her waist, amorphous shapes that each portrayed his unspoken love for her. She thought back on every encounter she had with him. Every laugh he coaxed out of her even as she tried to hide away from the world. The bittersweet smiles he gave her every time she rejected or delayed his proposal. His neverending determination and devotion, even when facing adversities like herself. And with each revelation, each tender kiss from Baekhyun, her heart seemed to swell with love for him and him alone.

Once more, he was the one to pull away first, perhaps more in control of his long-standing affections than her, yet he didn't draw too far from her. Just far enough for him to look over her countenance with a lovestruck expression of his own. His eyes glistened with this saccharine-like joy, crinkling at the corners with his sweet smile dedicated to her. And she found herself smiling back, an uncontrollable jubilance bubbling in her as she reveled in his affections.

“Come then,” he spoke softly, hands returning back to hers. He brought one up to his lips, pressing one final kiss to her fingers. “Let's go home.”