#like my au has A LOT of things and a lot of drama White actually cares for Yellow Blue and speceally Pink

[hamakochan375kj]

This is me, whenever I remember the depressing story and past I gave to White Diamond in my AU, where gems are born instead of coming out of the ground. I could explain it a bit more further, but, there’s too much to explain that I would have to make a seperate post explaining everything oof. Also sorry WD for making suffer ooof...

[jeoncasino]

Prospects

⋆ †₊ 0.1

Tired of life and all it had to bring for you, things take a turn when you find out two of your friends start to take a liking to you. With newfound emotions and a whole lot of drama, what happens when they start competing for your love?

Pairings: JJK x fem! reader [x KNJ]

Genre: college au, love triangle, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn, eventual smut.

Tags: rich! jjk, law student! jjk, dark hair! jjk, sweet! jjk, jealous! jjk, needy! jjk, obsessed! jjk, but also dom! jjk, slightly toxic! jjk, english major! knj, boy bsf! knj, co-worker! knj, husband material! knj, brown hair! knj, sweet! knj, jealous! knj, sad knj:(, pet names, everything’s so complicated and everyone’s in denial, jk's love language is physical touch and acts of service, jk has mommy issues so he's too attached to oc, joonie is so sweet i feel bad for him, gguk will try everything in his power to make oc his, ggukkie lowkey hates joonie lol, this is an actual slow burn yay!

Warnings: mentions of drug use.

⋆ †₊ Series Masterlist

Minors do not interact.

Smoke surrounds you. For a moment, the noises and lights from the party, once a chaotic blend, seperate distinctly. Each sound creates its own frequency, each beam of light cutting through the haze in sharp lines. Everything around you slows down, the moment captivating you in a trance that would otherwise not been achieved without smoking a certain plant.

Elaine, your best friend, who was sitting to your left, seems to be talking to you. You can't quite grasp what she's saying, but she leaves shortly afterward, leaving you alone in the beautiful backyard of this otherwise dirty frat house. You really were avoiding going inside—the floors were sticky, and it smells funky. Honestly, you didn’t even want to be there. Frat parties aren’t your thing. But Elaine, in apparent need of de-stressing (though later confessing she just wanted to see her latest infatuation, Zia), had dragged you out on a Thursday night. You thought about getting mad and leaving, but she’s your best friend—and every guy here looks like they’d spike her drink—so you stayed. Plus, she bought you a blunt, so it evened out.

As you gazed at the dark-glowing canvas of the night sky, you felt a presence beside you. Skeptically, you glanced to your right, only to find a man staring at you. You jumped.

��Oh my god?” you gasp, eyes wide, hand over your heart.

The guy laughs, clearly amused by your reacton. Trying to figure him out, you took a look at him. He wore a loose white shirt and baggy jeans. Dark hair framed his face. Two rings pierced the right side of his mouth, his right arm covered in tattoos. Honestly, you felt intimidated—frat parties drew all kinds of people, you know? But when you finally met his eyes, the softness of his gaze made him seem far more approachable then you originally thought.

“Will you quit staring?” He teased.

Your cheeks burned. “Oh please, I’m on drugs,” you muttered, looking away, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, I know. Thought I’d join you on your trip.”

Confused, and extremely thirsty, you asked, “Who are you?”

“Seriously?” He replied, somewhat annoyed. “Jeon Jeongguk. We share a class—U.S History with Mrs. Webster,” He paused, anticipating an answer. He met silence. “No?”

You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m too high to remember anyone from that class.” Thinking it over, you added, “Seriously, though, I don’t think I’ve ever talked to you.”

And that’s because you hadn’t. Jeongguk, though quite popular, found himself completely partner-less tonight. He didn’t like being alone, so when he spotted you, high and alone, he thought he’d try his usual trick with you—pretending he knew you from somewhere. It usually worked.

Not today though. At your response, he was utterly offended. Did you seriously not know who the Jeon Jeongguk was? Even he recognized you—the sharing a class part not being a lie—so it made no sense. Although, he didn’t know your name either, so maybe you did know him, just not his name, and the drugs are clouding him from your memory.

Yeah, he thought, it’s definitely the drugs. “Did you know marijuana causes memory issues?”

You snorted. “Just say you’re offended.”

He shrugged. “What’s got you all alone out here?”

“My horny friend, I guess.” You turn to face him. “You?”

“I was taught to never leave a pretty girl like you alone,”

“Okay, Mr. Charming, please be serious.”

He laughed. “My friends ditched me too.”

“Hm,” You didn’t know what else to say. Usually, you were good at small talk, but you were literally in cloud nine and too thirsty to properly think. “Do you mind getting me some water? I’ve got cotton mouth and don’t want to go inside.”

“It smells wierd doesn’t it?” He scrunched his nose as he replied. You nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

Many chit-chat’s and half a bottle of wine later—Jeongguk found it somewhere in the frat—you both bid goodbye with teary eyes and warm embraces, somehow convinced you’d never see each other again after this party. Both of you not letting go, Elaine and his friends have to literally pry you guys apart, causing everyone to fall comically like dominoes.

Attempting to open your eyes you rubbed them, immediately closing them as the morning sun assaults your vision. What even happened yesterday? Your head pounded, nausea swirled in your gut. You felt horrible. Trying to go back to sleep, you turned in your bed, feeling the dreaded build-up of saliva once you layed on your side. Uh-oh.

You rushed to your bathroom just in time.

“Elaine?” you half-yelled, wiping your mouth with your hand muffling your voice.

No response. You stumble out of your room and head for the kitchen. There, your find an already-ready best friend cooking god-knows-what.

Looking up at you, she said, “Good morning, Mrs. Jeon,” her tone dripping with mockery.

“What? Mrs. Jeon?” Confused, you try to piece together last night’s events, but it’s no use. Panicking, you exclaimed, “Oh my God, Elaine, what happened yesterday?!”

She looked at you unimpressed. “Oh, nothing much. Just that you and Jeongguk were all over each other yesterday!”

“Jeon who?” You asked.

“Be so serious right now,” She couldn’t believe you. “Y/n, he’s like, super well-known around campus. Rich as hell and a jerk.” She added, “Cheated on Jayla, rejected me when you bet me to hit on him for five dollars.” Elaine huffed with her arms crossed.

Recalling how hilarious that day was, you laughed so hard your headache worsened tenfold. “I might die if I keep laughing,” you stuttered, gripping the kitchen counter for dear life. “Is that why you don’t like him?”

“This isn’t funny! You guys made fools of yourselves last night. I genuinely thought he laced your drink.”

Drink. The word triggers flashes of last night—Jeongguk approaching you, him bringing you water, a bottle of wine somehow appearing in your hands. Blood drained from your face as you remembered how you parted ways—throwing yourself into his arms, him not letting go, literally shedding tears as Elaine dragged you out of the frat’s backyard.

You’ll make sure to never drink again after this.

“Elaine, did I really—”

“Yes, Y/n, you did! Do you know how embarrassing that was? Don’t even get me started on the reputation you just gained yourself.”

“What are you talking about?”

“All his closest friends were there,” she said, serving her plate with freshly cooked eggs. “They thought you guys fucked or something.”

“Ew?”

“Did you really?” The question almost offended you.

“Stop! God, no, obviously not,” you shuddered. “Just because we hugged?”

“No, because Jeon fucks everything he touches,” she replies matter-of-factly. “He also got a little possessive, he wouldn’t let go.”

“Of me?”

“Yeah, we all fell to the ground because y��all wouldn’t budge. My biceps are sore, no joke.”

You slumped against the counter, hiding your face in disbelief. “Wait so, now people think I’m easy?”

“Yes. Now let’s just hope the rumor didn’t spread outside the frats,” she said, walking out of the kitchen with her plate full of eggs. “People were watching, you know? I almost left you there with that whore. Anyway, you better get ready—your first class starts in 20.”

You sprint to your room.

“Thanks for saving me a spot.”

Namjoon lifted his backpack from the seat next to him as you slid into it, placing your own bag on the floor.

“No worries, buns,” he said, noticing your wet hair immediately. “Were you in a rush this morning?”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

“Did you have a night shift yesterday? I don’t recall scheduling you late this week.”

“No, it’s just that Elaine dragged me to this party and I—” You stopped yourself. Were you really going to expose your half-secret to Joonie out in the open? Nuh-uh. “I’m just so hungover. Let’s talk later. Focus on class.”

Although curious as to what happened last night that got you this flustered, Namjoon chose to not push the subject, both of you focusing now on whatever the professor was droning about.

You liked that he always walked you to class. Obviously if his class was far or if he got busy he wouldn’t, but for the most part he did. You found it chivalrous, a trait that most men nowadays lacked. That’s why you liked Namjoon—he was friendly but polite, not shy to ask about your personal life but never stepping any boundaries. Not to mention his other great qualities, like how intelligent or hard working he is. You both had gotten originally close through Yeyo’s café—he trained and guided you along the harsh path of being a first-time barista—and having worked most shifts together, you became each other’s favorite co-worker, mingling whenever and hanging outside of work at times. At these occasional dates, the both of you learnt you shared similar struggles, like not having anyone support you financially or having complicated relationships with your families. All these things made relating to him easier. He never failed to make you laugh or help you see the good in the bad, and for him you were grateful.

Now you’re here—two months later, at the same university—him walking you to class while you complained about the workload your professor just assigned.

“I mean is he kidding? Not everyone has free time like him. I’ve got work!”

“I think his wife’s divorcing him or something,”

You gasp. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled at your reaction. “You know the professor’s assistant?���

“Oh, the one who wants you?” you teased with a grin, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

Namjoon elbowed you gently. “Stop it,” he muttered. You laughed at his flustered expression.

“Anyway,” he continued, eager to change the subject, “the other day, I stayed after class to ask her for some extra points, but she got off track and started telling me all sorts of things about him.”

“Like what?” you asked, leaning into him with interest.

“Why do you sound excited?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t act like you don’t indulge in professor drama,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

Namjoon chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad,” you shot back, avoiding his gaze.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” he teased.

“Okay, fine! Just tell me what she said, please,” you pouted, grabbing onto his arm, feeling the firmness of his muscles. You knew that whenever you did this, he’d give in—like that one time at the fair when you’d been so thirsty you begged for a water bottle that cost him twenty bucks.

He sighed, giving in as expected. “Well, according to her, his wife wanted a Chanel bag, but the professor wouldn’t buy it for her. Then, she thought he was having an affair, so she looked through his things, but she found out he lied about how much money he’d inherited, so now she’s filing for divorce.”

“Gosh, I almost feel bad for him,” you said, the corners of your mouth lifting. “Almost.”

“Meanie,” Namjoon grinned and squeezed your nose.

“Hey! Stop, you’re—” About to punch him for ruining your makeup, he darted away as fast as he could.

“I’ll kill that motherfucker,” you muttered, opening the door of your next class.

“And I was like, are you dumb?” Elaine exclaimed through the phone.

After your last class, you decided you’d stop by the nurse’s office to get something that would soothe your headache, when you recieved a call from your best friend. Though spontaneous calls weren’t surprising, what she had just informed you was.

Apparently, she met up earlier with Zia, who had the audacity to ask her if she found it embarrassing to have a friend who had slept with Jeongguk. And obviously, her being the bestest, most protective friend ever, denied the rumors going around the frats in attempt of clearing your name.

As you walked out of the nurse’s office and into the bustling campus, she continued, “And I swear, in that moment, I was about to punch her. I mean, I always knew Zia was a little dense, but this? Ugh, it’s infuriating! I don’t even know why we fucked anymore.” She sighed heavily.

You found a bench under a large oak tree and sat down, needing to process everything. You’d been too busy with classes to think much about the previous night’s events, but now, with the day’s tasks behind you, the anxiety started creeping back in.

“Did you guys actually fuck yesterday?” you asked, leaning back against the bench.

“No, we had literally just fucked at the sorority, when she started asking dumb ass questions,” Elaine huffed. “I think I’m never finding love.”

“Don’t say that, E,” you replied, rubbing your temples. “You’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”

Elaine’s voice softened. “How are you holding up, though? I’m sorry for everything. I can’t help but feel responsible,” she added, and you could practically see her pouting on the other end of the line.

You took a deep breath. “Honestly, I was too busy this morning to even care, but now that I have time to think, I kind of just want to hide from everyone.”

“I’m sorry. I love you, okay? Don’t forget that.”

“I love you more.”

“Well I got to go, I’ll see you back at the apartment.”

Listening to the ring which notified the call was over, you finally had some time to process everything. Trying to find where you went wrong, the most controversial thing that happened all night was the fact that you were hanging out with… Jeongyeo? Or was it Jeongyu? Uh, you’ll make sure to ask Elaine later. Anyways, you saw no harm from having an innocent chat with him. All you did was drink with a rich frat college guy— and basically cry to each other but that was too embarrassing to even think about—so your ever crumbling reputation made no sense. You guys didn’t fuck, most certainly didn’t kiss, and by now the guy should’ve cleared the rumors, so why were they making such a fuss over it?

It was all so childish. Yet, despite your attempts to rationalize it, your stomach churned, your hands grew clammy, and your mind raced with anxiety. Every passerby seemed to stare at you with judgmental eyes.

You sighed deeply. This felt like high school all over again. You had to pull yourself together. If these people wanted to make a fuss over nothing and use you as their entertainment, then so be it. You had bigger things to worry about—like paying your bills or pursuing a career. So, with that, you decided to push the drama to the back of your head and refocus on what really mattered, finally finding peace once again in your mind.

And at peace you were.

At least that was the case until you got back home, because as soon as you walked into the apartment, Elaine rushed over, breaking the news to you. “Y/n, you won’t believe this. That miserable old landlord is raising our rent!”

You blinked, trying to process the new discovery. “What? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Elaine threw her hands up in frustration. “I begged him to exclude us from the raise, but he wouldn’t budge. He said it’s either pay up or move out.”

Trying your hardest not to kill him right now, you paused. What were you going to do now?

Trying to keep an optimistic outlook, you replied, “Look, I know it’ll be hard, but we can do this. Let’s just take extra shifts at work and start looking for an affordable place to stay at.”

She wasn’t sure about your proposition. You both worked long hours as is, not to mention how time consuming and disrupting it was for school.

“Y/n, we barely get to sleep some days,” Elaine said so lowly it was almost a whisper. Finding the situation impossible, she added, “I’m dropping out.”

You scoffed, “Are you crazy? You’re not doing that,”

“What else is there to do Y/n?” She frowned.

Lips pursed, you racked your brain trying to come up with a solution. Dropping out was not an option, and if keeping your education meant being homeless, then so be it. You both had a car, so maybe you guys could sleep there until you found a new place. And if you had to shower, you could probably just ask Namjoon if-

“Oh my god! Namjoon!” You yelled as you reached for your phone.

“What? Y/n what are you doing?”

Dialing Namjoon’s number, you replied with a smile on your face, “Pack your stuff, we’re crashing Joonies place.”

Author: pls this took me long enough to post and im not sure i even like it lmfoaoaoa. nobody told me how hard and time consuming this was. anyways yall if it sucks LMK ! i’ll make sure to burn this post down if it sucks ass. shout out to anyone who finished reading the first chapter of this series ! omm ilysm. i’ll also try to comment the people who wanted to be added to my taglist, hopefully it works. bye !

This is a work of fiction. The scenes, characters and events depicted are purely fictional and not intended to represent real-life procedures or individuals. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Do not use this story as your own.

@jeoncasino 2024 ©

[chocosvt]

HER | part three (m).

✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader word count: 24.8k genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.

(!) warnings: drug use (weed, cocaine, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.

✧✎ a/n: just some quick things i want to make apparent!

the fic is told from wonwoo’s pov, not the reader’s! 

all major timeline events are organized through chronological dates

any smut or potentially triggering scenes are NOT MARKED bc the content is already quite mature, so just plz be aware of that! 

bolded and italicized text implies the characters are conversing in korean, tho it doesn’t happen often!

the fic in its entirety is 140k, so it has been split into 6 parts.

THE MIDWAY POINT 🎉 now i've just gotta prepare the last 3 parts! this is a chunkier chapter. it contains one of the longest scenes i've ever written (not even the full thing lol, it had to be split). but you'll see why, a lot had to "occur" :p

happy reading!! 💕

⇢ part one | part two | part four | part five | part six ⇢ soundtrack for those curious! ⇢ read at ur own pace! :)

“Holy fuck—you really did lose your shoe.”

He hadn’t actually noticed until you were both inside his dim apartment, puddles of water now forming on the floorboards.

“I told you!”

Looking down, you had on just a black, sodden sock. With a suctioning and uncomfortably wet squelch, you managed to toe off your remaining sneaker, flinging it carefully onto the shoe mat.

Wonwoo did the same.

Thunder continued rumbling outside, with lightning hitting no more than a few seconds after. The strikes were like white knives in the sky, ripping and shearing apart the storm clouds of summer humidity.

“Jesus,” you huffed, hands moulding down your face to wipe away all the droplets, “I can’t believe you got me to run, first of all. Second of all, I can’t tell if I absolutely hated or thoroughly enjoyed that.”

“I liked it,” Wonwoo said.

“Of course you did.”

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a dish towel to begin cleaning off his glasses and phone, not caring about all the water he was dragging so liberally everywhere. Once Wonwoo fit the frames back to his face, he was able to clearly see you still standing by the door, and he appreciated that you didn’t want to make a mess of his living room even though it wouldn’t matter to him one teensy tiny bit.

Your fingers picked in a distracted manner at the clusters of your dripping hair, meanwhile soft, watery mascara dappled down your arched cheeks, framing you akin to a detailed and evocative painting. That hemmed, white t-shirt was clinging in soaked wrinkles to your heaving torso and chest, revealing subtle imprints of all the bare skin underneath. And Wonwoo found himself looking. Not in a lecherous, tainted way, but in the simple fact that you were…

He suddenly bit down on his inner cheek, curled his hand into a fist where he could easily dig at the scars on his thumb.

To Wonwoo, you were so indescribably beautiful, standing near his doorway, soaked to the bone in the rebirth of rainfall.

He had always thought you were pretty, but in that moment, he knew it was more than just that—it was a realization that stopped the breath in his lungs and the heavy beats his heart was just barely making. At least, that was how it felt. Wonwoo sensed his panic flare up for a split second, and then it simmered away into casual nervousness. Before his eyes could linger long enough to get caught, he remembered to take a deep inhale and reground his thoughts. You stopped fiddling with your hair and sniffled.

“Um, is it okay if I jump in your shower? I mean—well, it’s your place, so if you want to get yourself sorted first, that’s fine.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind at all.”

You smiled back at him, adjusting the small leather bag strewn over your shoulder. He hoped your journal wasn’t soaked.

“Are you sure?”

“Well—okay, let me just run into my room and grab some clothes. I’ll dry off real quick in the washroom and change. I promise it’ll take me less than like, five minutes.”

“That’s probably best. I’ll just keep standing here.”

Hopping his way across the apartment, Wonwoo made it into his bedroom where he began ripping open the dresser drawers, pulling out some basic clothes like sweatpants and a hoodie. Then, he slipped into the washroom, peeling all the sopping, disgustingly sticky articles from his body and throwing them into the sink. Once he rubbed off with a towel, Wonwoo quickly got dressed—probably the fastest he’d ever put on clothes in his entire life. You were still standing patiently by the door when Wonwoo returned to the living room, having dumped his wet outfit into the laundry hamper.

“I’m making a colossal sized puddle right now.” You laughed.

“Ha—that’s okay,” Wonwoo answered, handing you a clean towel he’d pulled from his toiletries closet. “I’ll take care of it.”

You started walking toward the corridor, and then stopped.

“Do you think you have any clothes that might fit me? It’s just—I obviously don’t want to wear this again," you said, gesturing to the t-shirt and long skirt damply flush to your figure.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll look through my dresser and closet and pick out some stuff—you can see which fits best. I’ll throw your clothes and mine into the laundry as well—get it all clean and warmed up.”

“I’d love that, thank you.”

While you started undressing in his washroom, Wonwoo began sorting through all the clothes he had, pulling out older t-shirts and even some shorts, though he knew they most likely wouldn’t fit you. He heard you turn on the shower and wait for it to start heating.

Once Wonwoo was satisfied with all the options he’d picked, he knocked a few times on the washroom door. It was pulled open rather quickly, and he saw you standing in the threshold of thickening, hot steam, holding the spare towel closed at your chest.

“For you. There’s a whole bunch of sizes.”

“Okay, thank you so much. Do you want my clothes?”

“Yeah—that’s all of it?”

“Mmhm.”

“Okay. Take your time. I’m gonna run to the basement and get these in the laundry. I’ll probably be back up in like, five minutes. If you need anything else, just shout. I’ll be able to hear it.”

Wonwoo wasn’t sure how long it took you to shower, mostly because he was too occupied with looking out the windowpanes from his seat at the couch, watching the downpour continue, the evening dimness that flooded the room, and the liquified twinkling of city lights flickering behind all the rain. However, once you emerged from his bedroom and padded into the living area, dressed in a dark blue, logoed shirt from the neatly folded pile he’d handed you, Wonwoo had snapped back to the present. You smiled at him, and he saw that your face was now cleaned of the runny mascara and makeup.

“Oh—uh, our clothes are still in the laundry.”

“That’s okay,” you answered while walking around the coffee table. “I knew they wouldn’t be done right away. I’m fine to wait.”

Wonwoo proceeded to sit up straighter against the couch, rather than his slouched, wide spread position that he’d unconsciously sunk into before when staring vacantly into the rain.

“And, uh—just so you know, I’m wearing an embarrassing lack of clothes right now,” you admitted through your teeth, taking a ginger seat beside him. “So, like, not that I’m saying you’re going to be weird about it ‘cause I know you won’t be, but, do you have a blanket or something that I can toss over my lap?”

Immediately, Wonwoo got up from the couch.

“Yeah, there’s one in my room. I’ll grab it.”

He saw that your bag was also left in his bedroom, so he took it out with him, a few remaining droplets still bulbed on the surface.

“It’s probably not as soft as the one at your place.”

“Doesn’t matter.” You flapped the blanket out and settled it primly over your legs. “And thanks for grabbing my bag, too.”

Wonwoo collapsed back onto the sofa.

“I hope your journal’s not ruined.”

After fishing around inside the pouch, you pulled out your phone, and then the leather notebook, which was completely dry.

“Oh, thank God. I’d actually be so pissed if it was wet, probably more so than my phone.” You flipped through the pages, feeling for any splotches or tears. “I prevail, after all.”

Wonwoo smiled, and fluffed a hand through his hair.

“If you decide to stay longer because the rain won’t let up, I can always try to make you supper, or something. I can’t promise that it will be the best meal of your life, but I’m not that incompetent.”

“Oh—but what if I want something extravagant?” You smirked while flitting through your text messages. “Like buttery lobster with garlic mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables?”

He scratched under the pad of his glasses.

“Is that what you usually eat?”

“No. Only when I’m feeling super fancy. I force Mingyu to cook it for me because he’s good at that stuff. Really, I shouldn’t have to ask him—” you glanced at Wonwoo, smiling, “—he should just do it.”

“Well, if you decide to stay, I can make the next best thing.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Looking into his kitchen, Wonwoo laughed at himself.

“Ramen.”

“Oh! I actually love ramen,” you exclaimed, shuffling up your legs under the blanket. “And I would totally stay, but I promised Princess that I’d come to her new place at six o’clock-ish to help do some unpacking. Once my clothes are all done, I’ll probably get her to come pick me up. I don't know when the rain's gonna stop."

“That’s fine,” Wonwoo replied with an accepting, warm expression, even though on the inside, he was rotting in disappointment because he would have given anything for you to stay and eat supper, maybe watch a movie afterward, order ice cream.

He hated when you would leave. It left him to swim alone with his own thoughts—mostly consumed by you—and dreadfully wait until he could see or hear from you again. As Wonwoo stared off into space, he felt the phone in his pocket buzz.

It was a text from Vernon.

[ Vernon | 5:05 pm ]: hey sir-dork-a-lot

[ Vernon | 5:05 pm ]:  you asked her about the party yet?!

Fuck. The stupid party. The Solar Pop incident with Mingyu.

Wonwoo had completely forgot that was somehow supposed to wedge his way into receiving an invite, when he didn’t even want to go in the first place. Parties genuinely weren’t his scene.

Especially the kind that Mingyu and his friend, Seungcheol, would throw. But, at the same time, there was this very small seed of curiosity planted in his stomach—that, maybe, Wonwoo should just shoulder off his hatred of loud, cramped spaces and obnoxious university students chugging all their drinks straight from the bottle. If he just tried his best to stay calm, stay level-headed, breathe, then perhaps Wonwoo could survive a night partying with Vernon, as fucking ridiculous and deluded as it sounded.

He glanced over at you, who was texting someone.

God. Did he really want to ruin this calm, comfortable moment right now to ask about your boyfriend’s big slosh-fest?

“So, I noticed in your schedule, like, two weeks into June, you’re gonna be off the call for three days, I think.”

You scratched your cheek, continuing to text.

“Oh, yeah. I thought I already brought that up, but maybe I’m thinking of a conversation with someone else.” Shutting off your phone, you started sliding it around the blanket while talking. “It’s this big party that Mingyu’s helping to host with his friend from basketball, Seungcheol. I don't know if you're familiar with him. They do it every summer. It’s always so much fun, but I get so fucked up that I need at least two days recovery.”

Wonwoo swallowed, feeling how dry his throat was.

“Yeah. I know Mingyu’s trying to get coke from Vernon.”

You stopped playing with the phone, instead looking immediately to Wonwoo through the rays of gradual light that began easing past the gentler rain. He held his breath.

“Right, Vernon.” You almost shuddered.

“Yeah…”

“If he can get his hands on it, then, fuck, I’m fine with that. Whatever. Mingyu invited him, of course. As long as he doesn’t slink up to me and try to convince me the ten different ways he can give me the best orgasm I’ve ever had, I guess I shouldn’t whine.”

Wonwoo was embarrassed for his friend—it was a pretty rough situation, he would imagine. Not his most shining moment.

“I know he’s your bestie,” you said, stretching your legs out onto the coffee table, “and I’m not going to judge you to your face, but I will be judging you, silently, in the recesses of my own mind.”

Snickering, Wonwoo rubbed a hand down his neck.

“The transparency’s nice, I suppose. But, yeah. I understand why you’d have a gripe with him. To be fair, he’s not that bad. He’s a good guy that’s wrapped up in some shitty habits. I’m sure you taught him a lesson that night. It gave him a serious degree of humbling.”

“Pfft. Did it, now?”

Wonwoo opened his mouth, but he didn’t speak, and it was then you doubled over in laughter at him, patting a hand on his knee.

“No, no. It’s okay. I’ll just deal.”

“I know you will… and, like, be safe and stuff.”

You grinned, shaking your head.

“Oh, yeah. No need to worry. I know my limits… okay—well, actually, I shouldn’t say that—I have a vaguely good idea of where my limits are, and sometimes I happen to surpass them. Not by ignorance, though. My mind is just too mushy at that point to care.”

“How incredibly rambunctious,” Wonwoo replied. “You’re probably blacklisted everywhere; a walking threat, actually.

“Oh, shut up,” you chuckled, folding your arms. “If you were trying to wiggle your way into being invited, I’m revoking it now.”

“Well, that soils my next question.”

You raised your eyebrows, “… which is?”

For a moment, Wonwoo couldn’t process that he was about to ask such a pathetic question. He tried thinking about it more as an out-of-body experience, where it wasn’t really his true conscience taking the sails. You kept watching him, waiting for his response.

Thankfully, you didn’t grant him the breadth to speak, and he was certain a lively hue of colour had just flushed back to his face.

“Oh, you’re being serious. You want to go?”

“Not really,” Wonwoo admitted, pushing up his glasses. “But, uh, I don’t know. It helps that Vernon will be there. I’m sure you can tell, I’m not a party person—not at all. Just, it could be a good opportunity for… um… well, I really can’t explain why, actually.”

“Hm.” Your eyes narrowed. “I assume it’s Vernon pushing you into it for some stupid reason… I mean, I have no issues with you going, of course!” He watched you adjust your legs under the blanket, tucking them back beneath you. “But just so you know, these parties are kinda intense and can be a major sensory overload—even for me! And I know that you don’t like talking about it but I’m not sure how well it bodes to put you in a position where you might have… uh, never mind, actually. I shouldn’t speak on stuff that doesn’t concern me. I just care about your wellbeing.”

Wonwoo pushed his lips together. A slight rush of something warm and tingly flowered at his core and he couldn’t tell if he absolutely loved it or wanted the feeling to wither up and die. More light streamed through his windows as the rain weaned off and the sky morphed from grey back to a softer, evening powder blue.

“I appreciate your concern,” he answered after an almost questionable silence, “I’m sure it will be fine.”

“Oh, sorry—I just wanted to be sure.”

“It’s okay.”

Neither of you spoke for a moment. Wonwoo twiddled his thumbs while you stared down at the blanket, presumably thinking.

“I would love for you to come, then.”

He caught you smiling at him after extending the offer in a quiet voice. The outside light filled up your eyes like a glass of swirling gold and Wonwoo believed your earnesty. And while he knew Vernon would be elated that he was able to come, Wonwoo was fighting to understand if he felt more relieved or terrified.

—JUNE 15TH.

Coming home from his long shift at the pharmacy, it was some time past eleven at night. The day hadn’t been extremely busy, but Wonwoo found it always slowed down the most dramatically when he was absolutely itching to leave. He tried his best to get relaxed, jumping into a warm but short shower, making himself a cup of chamomile tea, looking back on some favourite excerpts from the journal he kept buried away in the first drawer on his nightstand.

Wonwoo willed himself not to look at any screens. And, yet, as he sat in his bed, drinking the last few sips of tea from his hot, porcelain cup, Wonwoo’s eyes flickered across the room to his desk where his laptop was placed, and he felt this ticking urge to write.

At first, he wasn’t sure what to do.

After all, he’d been putting in a significant effort to fix that godawful, nightmarish sleep schedule of his, and while his ventures weren’t always the most successful, Wonwoo was making notable strides. To throw that all away—just to pick open his laptop and most likely end up staring straight into a lurid, white screen, while nothing of actual substance came to his fingertips—it was fruitless, and perhaps a bit stupid. He knew he needed to let that story die.

The longer it sat, collecting pixelated dust on his desktop, the more it made sense to simply delete it. Move on. Acknowledge the fact that this relationship he once perceived as so perfect and glimmering had ended, and trying to find some wisps of closure in forcing himself to complete a fizzled romance was pointless. It made so much sense. Besides, Wonwoo was happier now than he had been back in March, April, May. And, he could attribute much of that to someone he once feared and poorly understood—you.

It was hard to describe, but you had been this flare—a comet more like—that kind of blazed with an uncontrolled fire into his very bleak life. And while he’d definitely felt your scorching, uncomfortable sting more than once, he was able to realize there was something so unique and enriching about you. Because you weren’t just an uncontrollable fire, you were a full body laugh that made it hard to breath, but in the best, most treasured way. You were the quiet stillness of a pond, deep in the woods, listening to all the sounds that thrived around you, even though it didn’t always seem like it.

And you were this very soft, caressing breeze that always found Wonwoo, even when he was at his lowest valleys, giving him that sensation of a shiver to let him know that he was still alive and breathing and not so horribly numb as he thought himself to be.

That was something he’d never experienced before.

It scared him somewhat, but there was comfort in the thought, nonetheless. True, warm, and pure comfort.

Wonwoo sighed, blinking away from his laptop.

He should probably just go to bed.

Once he washed his teacup out in the kitchen, Wonwoo started brushing his teeth. That big summer party he was supposed to attend with Vernon was tomorrow night, and to call him nervous was a complete understatement. Wonwoo wouldn’t be surprised if he threw up. He would probably have to smoke a bit before leaving, just to mellow out. Of course, Vernon was overflowing with excitation, and maybe that was a good thing—he could be Wonwoo’s buffer.

Since your day together at the museum, Wonwoo had revisited your apartment twice to help with further proofreading and editing. He would be downright lying if he claimed that having to read through a memoire of your fulgurant love for Mingyu wasn’t disheartening or turning him occasionally bitter. Wonwoo wanted to be happy that you were so devoted to him, you could write an entire book detailing all your sweetest moments and fondest memories and the overall history of your love. But he wasn’t happy in the slightest.

You made him happy—not you, plus Mingyu

Continuing to brush his teeth, Wonwoo heard his phone ding once, and then again from his bedroom. And while he hadn’t wanted to look at any screens tonight, he figured that responding to a couple texts wouldn’t thwart all his progress. With the toothbrush still hanging from the corner of his mouth, Wonwoo flopped backward onto the bed and yanked his phone off the charger. While he was expecting the messages to be from Vernon due to their late sending, he was quite surprised to see they were actually from you.

[ Her | 11:50 pm ]: IMG.2102

[ Her | 11:50 pm ]: do I look pretty?

Immediately, Wonwoo shuffled up onto his elbows, tapping at the picture you had sent him. When he nearly choked on the excess of minty foam stuck in his mouth, Wonwoo quickly ran into the washroom to spit it all out. He recognized the outfit you were wearing in the photo—it was that white two-piece from the boutique in the mall that you had tried on, with the high-waisted, short, tight skirt and the strapped top that wrapped around the back of your neck and criss-crossed over your chest. Coming back to his bed to sit down, Wonwoo leaned over with an elbow digging into his knee.

Did you mean to send that to him?

For a moment, his thumbs just hovered above the keyboard, attempting to concoct a coherent thought in his mind. He recognized the large, silver-bordered mirror from your bedroom. And while the phone was slightly covering your face, you had this leg crooked up in a sweet, almost delicate pose despite the open and revealing nature of the outfit. Wonwoo rubbed under his glasses, huffing out deeply.

[ Wonwoo | 11:55 pm ]: Did you mean to send this?

He prayed you didn’t take his text the wrong way.

[ Her | 11:55 pm ]: um yes

[ Her | 11:55 pm ]: ur wonwoo, aren’t u?

[ Her | 11:55 pm ]: I just wanted to know what u thought of the outfit I’m gonna wear. I know u have already seen it. but just in case u forgot I wanted to send another pic lol

[ Her | 11:56 pm ]: u think it’s bad? :(

Sitting back against his pillows, Wonwoo completely forgot all about his ‘no screens’ rule, texting you as quickly as possible.

[ Wonwoo | 11:56 pm ]: No, it doesn’t look bad at all.

[ Wonwoo | 11:56 pm ]: You look gorgeous.

[ Her | 11:57 pm ]: and ur not just saying that?

[ Wonwoo | 11:57 pm ]: No, of course not.

[ Wonwoo | 11:57 pm ]: You’ll be the prettiest there.

[ Her | 11:57 pm ]: omgg thxx <3 okay I feel better now

[ Wonwoo | 11:57 pm ]: Why? What happened?

At that moment, Wonwoo actually received a text from Seokmin, but he rapidly flicked it away. Another text followed, and Wonwoo swore he flicked it away even faster, as though Seokmin was actually talking into his ear despite the quietness of his bedroom.

[ Her | 11:59 pm ]: Mingyu told me he doesn’t really like it bc the skirt part is too short and he doesn’t like the top. he says it’s too revealing and that everyone will just be looking at my boobs lol. but I don’t want to change it :/ I like how it fits and it’s not like i’m going to be doing cartwheels or gymnastics

[ Her | 11:59 pm ]: idk he just made me feel bad about it

Wonwoo proceeded to rub a hand through his locks of clean, black hair, pulling them messily all over his head as he thought.

[ Wonwoo | 12:00 am ]: Hm. Well I do agree that it’s revealing and you probably will have people staring at you. I mean, if you’re not uncomfortable by that it’s fine. You’ll just have to be careful if you bend over or dance around, that’s all :) But I’m sure you already know that. You look beautiful. Don’t worry too much.

[ Her | 12:00 am ]: okayy thank you so much! :)

[ Wonwoo | 12:00 am ]: No problem.

[ Her | 12:01 am ]: I’m so glad that ur coming

[ Her | 12:01 am ]: it makes me feel better

[ Wonwoo | 12:01 am ]: Hopefully I can find you.

[ Her | 12:02 am ]: I’ll text you, no worries

[ Her | 12:02 am ]: mkay well I should go to bed now!

[ Her | 12:02 am ]: goodnight <3

[ Wonwoo | 12:02 am ]: Goodnight.

At last, Wonwoo clicked off the bright glare from his phone, setting it down against his chest. For at least five minutes, he did nothing but lay remarkably still in his bed and stare up at the ceiling, thinking—as he usually did—about why he was feeling that way.

That very certain, specific way that was so demanding in his heartbeat to be acknowledged, except for the fact Wonwoo wouldn’t acknowledge it because then he’d throw up and probably lose himself entirely as he panicked.

Eventually, his thoughts were becoming too loud for his liking, and Wonwoo promptly tossed his phone aside and crawled underneath the covers before turning off the bedside lamp.

Even then, Wonwoo was restless. When he tried rolling onto his side, the uncomfortable poking against his nose reminded him he hadn’t even removed his glasses. At first it was too hot, and Wonwoo pointed his leg out from beneath the blankets, pushing all the sheets down to rumple at his waist. But then it was notably cold after a few more minutes, and Wonwoo angrily stirred all his blankets back up to mask over his face. No matter what he did or how he positioned himself or what limb he decided to sacrifice to the hot-cold air, he wasn’t going to fall asleep. Wonwoo’s eyes popped open again.

Patting around the surface of the bed, his fingers eventually brushing the phone and glasses he’d discarded, Wonwoo decided he didn’t care about going to sleep anymore if that was how his body was going to so painfully treat him. He shuffled up more against the pillows splayed at his back and checked the messages sent by Seokmin about half an hour ago—the two boys hadn’t spoken in a while, almost since their exams ended in May, and while Wonwoo would have ideally liked to keep in touch with his friend, he was laughably horrible at it. At least Seokmin seemed chipper.

[ Seokmin | 11:57 pm ]: Hey Wonwoo!

[ Seokmin | 11:57 pm ]: I heard you were going to Mingyu and Seungcheol’s party! I didn’t think that would be something you’re into but I’ll also be there, probably for a couple hours

Wonwoo swiped out from the texts, not really feeling anything or thinking much about their content, and opened some messages from Vernon that he’d received at work but forgot to read.

[ Vernon |  9:55 pm ]: need a drive 4 the party?

[ Vernon | 9:55 pm ]: let me know beautiful xo

He couldn’t help but muster a chuckle at the teasing nature of his friend’s texts, though Wonwoo didn’t respond, making a mental note to answer the next day, instead. For another moment or two, he continued sitting in the dark shadows of his room, staring down at the only light which caught the reflection in his glasses. Wonwoo’s thumb at first hesitated, but then he was reopening his earlier conversation with you, and with a few upward flicks, he was back on that cute photo you’d sent him. It hadn’t left his mind at all.

This huge lump of guilt had come to sit in his gut like an anchor for a reason that Wonwoo didn’t begin recognizing, that is until he finally felt the pull from somewhere deep inside him—the thought had entered his mind and he knew if he just ignored it for even a second it would dissipate. But then, Wonwoo didn’t ignore it, because he didn’t truly want that. He was going to be selfish in that instance and sink into the pull, the heat—not dismissing the thought but the guilt he would later drown in—the shame of it all.

Wonwoo kicked off his mask of bedsheets, letting them settle in a slow puff around his ankles.

In the beginning, all of it felt so bizarre. The hand that twisted underneath his sweatpants, and then his boxers, coming to softly graze fingertips along his hardening shaft—he hadn’t done this in weeks. Wonwoo rarely experienced sexual frustration. It just wasn’t something that bothered him. But the absent tendency would always build up and inevitably break at some point and he hated that you were the cool, breathtaking breeze to push him over that cliff.

With the edges of his fingers, Wonwoo continued to stroke along himself, up and down, just barely touching. It would make his knee jolt or his thigh twitch, but the longer he teased, the more each touch transformed. The pleasure was soaking through and leading him in deeper until Wonwoo tilted up his hips in order to shove down the elastic waist of his sweatpants and underwear. The air was so cold but dually welcomed against his erection that he began pumping to full length in his hand, feeling it throb and grow and stiffen.

Wonwoo let his eyes flutter toward the phone he was holding at his stomach, examining your figure from head to toe. It was wrong and he fucking knew it, but as he rubbed a palm at his most sensitive head and felt the cum start to leak down his cock, Wonwoo couldn’t bring himself to scale the acceptableness of his actions.

In that moment, Wonwoo looked at you in all the ways he shouldn’t. He pressed his head back into the pillow, eyes falling shut while he lubricated himself in squeezing, slow strokes with his own arousal. His fingers gripped the phone tighter, refusing to drop it.

You were bright and flashing in his mind and Wonwoo wanted to know all of it—he wanted to know the feeling of your silk, swollen lips leaving warm kisses up his shaft. He wanted to know the sensation of your tongue laving messy circles around his tip, teasing him, purring at him, staring up at him with those intimidating, sharp eyes that had always seemed beyond frightening. He wanted to know the sounds you would make if you ever so kindly allowed him to settle between your thighs. He knew how fucking beautiful your cunt would be and he could only imagine your taste would utterly melt him.

His fist wrapped tighter, pumped faster, and despite his usual quiet temperament in bed, a throaty, deep whine caught in Wonwoo’s throat. He took another look at your picture, and somewhere amongst the smog of pleasure that thickly hazed his logic, Wonwoo felt this transient, selfish anger, because in that moment, he wanted you. He needed you. He would do fucking anything you asked him and more because there was so much weight you held in his life. Wonwoo just wanted to make you happy and he couldn’t help but burn with the desperation to treat you better than anyone else ever had.

Knowing he was going to shatter soon, Wonwoo braced himself through the torture that was removing his hand and letting the intense, throbbing accumulation of pleasure ebb from his cock.

He gritted his teeth at the frustrating feeling.

But there was a reason for his decision. Looking back to the phone still aglow, Wonwoo swiped out from your picture and began scrolling higher up in the conversation, seeking out something particular that had jumped into his memory. And once he found it, there was an even denser feeling of guilt he had to ignore.

Last week, you ended up sending him a voice note because you were too exhausted to even bother typing. It wasn’t that the audio contained anything even relatively lascivious, since you were mostly just rambling about your day and never quite finishing a thought.

However, Wonwoo loved your voice. He loved hearing it in person and through his phone’s crappy speakers, especially when you sounded so sleepy, and your tone would soften, the occasional sigh or gentle breath hitting his ear just perfectly. Placing his hand back around his erection, Wonwoo hit play on your voice note and laid the phone beside his head on the pillow. He managed to smile through the pleasure that was rebuilding inside him as he intently listened.

“Um, hi, so—ah! Sorry, my phone just fucking slid under the covers, oh my God. But, yeah, I’m sending a voice note ‘cause I’m drop dead exhausted from today. It was the worst. My legs hurt so bad that I could hardly carry myself to bed. Ugh. Anyway… okay, sorry, I forgot what I was gonna say… oh yeah! So—”

It all felt too euphoric—too warm and overwhelming and the more Wonwoo listened to your sweet voice the more he felt himself pulsate with how badly he needed you. He planted one foot to his mattress, using it for stability and leverage as his hips thrust upward and he began unbridled fucking into his own hand. More than anything in the universe he wanted it to be your cunt—your pretty, wet, soft cunt cushioning him in and gushing all over him. He was going to drive himself fucking crazy at the thought, so much that Wonwoo began begging for you in his husky, deep, quivering voice.

Most was complete incoherency, dipping into confusing, jumbled whimpers of his English and native Korean tongue. Your voice was right there by his ear, though he was hardly processing a word. His orgasm was going to collapse over him like a tidal wave and all Wonwoo could do was succumb as he continued pumping his strained cock. His breathing was laboured, heavy. He kept stuttering and pleading for you into the sheer darkness of his bedroom.

Lots of “pl-please” and “f-ffuck, fuck, fuck!” and “m’gonna cc-cum for you, I want t’cum for you, I need it all inside of you, put it all so deep in your p-perfect cunt”—and plenty more tainted things he would take to his grave before he would ever confess to uttering.

As the voice note came to its end, Wonwoo had slammed his fist down for the last time. He immediately turned his cheek to the pillow, ignoring how the rounded glasses dug into his face, simply because his moan was too broken and shamefully loud. His cock started throbbing with the most intense pleasure he’d ever felt against his palm. The cum dribbled down his ghost-white knuckles. Wonwoo refused to even glance at the mess he was making. With a few more shaky pumps of his fist, he’d milked out all he possibly could, some spurts landing on his rumpled t-shirt. At last, he could exhale.

Lifting himself up with his clean hand, Wonwoo took a few moments to simply breathe. His entire body was still racing with adrenaline and hormones and the pure rush of his self-orchestrated ecstasy. But, pushing between all the energy was his guilt—the fact of what he’d just done and how he’d so blatantly used you to make himself feel good. Wonwoo glanced back at his phone and the voice note in the conversation. Immediately, he clicked the device off, and there was strictly still, shapeless blackness that surrounded him.

What the fuck had he just done?

How was he supposed to text you, look at you, talk to you, knowing he’d officially jerked off to your picture and your voice. Even worse—it was probably the best his masturbation had ever felt. It was all so fucking heavenly in the moment that he thought he might die.

Wonwoo had no idea what to make of his actions.

His feelings for you.

But he thought he should at least tidy himself up.

—JUNE 16TH

Before Vernon had come by in his car, Wonwoo was caught in an exhausting and sickening guessing game of whether or not he needed to throw up. His lower stomach was in complete knots, prompting him to pace back and forth outside the washroom door, because sitting down was going to make him ruminate even more over how terribly nervous he was. Thankfully, however, Wonwoo never threw up, and he was able to calm himself a bit by rolling a blunt, sparking it while sat at the open windowsill in his bedroom.

There was also help from the nighttime breeze that touched against his warm face, a sensation he had always found so soothing.

Just before ten at night, Wonwoo received the critical text from Vernon—he was parked outside on the street. He’d fully smoked his blunt at the time of the message, and he pathetically prayed to himself that his nerves wouldn’t sizzle back up at the worst possible time as he locked his apartment door. Once Wonwoo had stepped outside, he spotted Vernon’s old vanilla Camry stalled beside the postal box across the street. He was kind enough to reach over and push the door open for Wonwoo, who quickly shuffled into his seat.

Immediately, Wonwoo received his usual greeting.

“Hey, Glasses.”

He gave a nod back in response, buckling on the seatbelt.

“So, you smell like confusin’ mix of straight cannabis and a fuckin’ breezy Caribbean Ocean tide. How the fuck does that work?”

“Uh, I put on cologne. And then I smoked?”

“You nervous, then?” Vernon asked through his trademark conniving smirk, meanwhile he began steering out onto the street.

“Of course I’m fucking nervous,” Wonwoo almost laughed back at the obvious nature of the question and habitually checked his friend’s blind spot. “I don’t even go to like, dinner parties.”

“Pfft, I’m sure you’ll be fine. The good thing about parties like these—everyone gets so fucked it’s unlikely they’ll remember some nervous dweeb like yourself. Amongst all that chaos, you’ll blend straight in. There’s nothin’ to be shaked up about. I promise ‘ya.”

Wonwoo merely huffed in response, opting to let Vernon focus on driving and working the car’s outdated stereo while he checked his phone. Actually, Wonwoo had wanted to text you before he left the apartment, but he was still stomaching all the rigid guilt that came with jerking himself off to your pretty picture and voice note the night before. It was a stupid, stupid choice.

All those thoughts that had been stampeding through his head—wanting you and needing you and craving to belong with you in a way that could never reach true fruition—Wonwoo had to convince himself it was all meaningless. His mind had conjured those ridiculous sentiments when his logic was razor thin and overcome by the deception of his lust, and, therefore, he refused to accept those urges were even close to his actual feelings for you. He clicked his phone back off, not meaning to sigh aloud but doing so anyway.

Vernon then shot him a speculative glance through the rear-view mirror, though Wonwoo barely caught it. He looked out the window instead, at all the passing lights and people who were eager to spend their Friday night doing something stimulating.

“So, I know you’re probably just thinkin’ to yourself over there, as you usually do,” his friend said, fiddling with the radio until the static noise died back into music, “but I think it’s all too funny.”

Wonwoo scrunched his nose, continuing to watch the nightlife slip by his tracing eyes outside the window.

“Hm? What’s funny?”

Vernon chuckled. “All that shit you said to me, like, over a month ago. We’re not friends. And now, you n’Her hang out all the time. I think she’s pumpin’ some actual life back into you. You’re not like you were before, y’know? Which is good to see. So, what I wanna know now is—would you say the same? Or is she your friend?”

Right, Wonwoo remembered the conversation Vernon was referring to—the night his friend drove him home after a tiresome shift at the pharmacy. With his entire chest, Wonwoo had claimed you two weren’t friends. There had been a lot of truth to it, at least from his perspective. Or, maybe, he’d crushed down the prospect of it so vehemently because Wonwoo had just assumed someone like you would have no interest in honestly befriending him.

He could offer you something, and that was it.

But, now…

“You’d have to ask her,” Wonwoo answered, shrugging.

Instantly, Vernon groaned.

“God, that’s such a fuckin’ cop-out answer, Glasses.”

“Well, what the fuck should I say? Yes, we’re friends, but then you might go and ask her, and she’ll say otherwise.”

“So what?” Vernon engaged, raising his hand partially off the steering wheel in a half-gesture. “So fuckin’ what if she says that? If you think of her as a friend then commit to that. There’s nothin’ wrong with it.” His voice became firmer, more convictional.

Wonwoo tilted his head back against the seat. It’s not that he didn’t think you were friends—it was more so that he might to admit it, and then the relationship could all fall apart, crash like a burning, charred asteroid at his feet. And then Wonwoo would be back in the same self-inflicted crater he was before, thinking he had a genuine connection in his life only to have the rug pulled out from under him.

“… I don’t know.”

“No, you do know. But I see you wanna be all secretive about it and keep your cards close to the chest. So, whatever.”

Rubbing at the edge of his nose, Wonwoo took a quiet moment for himself to muse. He wanted another blunt.

“I don’t think she’ll be that excited to see me.” Vernon said.

Turning his head, Wonwoo looked to his friend and laughed.

“Yeah, can’t imagine why.”

“Think she’ll rip my head off?” Vernon joked with a big, gummy grin, relaxing back into his seat. “That might be kinda hot.”

“No—it would be traumatizing, actually.”

“She better not,” his friend answered, slapping his glove compartment and smirking pridefully. “I’ve got her goddamn coke.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ… I’ve never seen a street this packed…”

Vernon couldn’t help his awe from spilling out as he navigated at a snail’s pace down the road, each and every available spot that lined the curb being occupied by a vehicle. Wonwoo spotted a few groups making their way up the sidewalks, toward the colossal sized house to the distant right of the street. Seungcheol lived in Hill Crest, just like your parents, but he seemed poised at the neighbourhood’s opposite end—probably ideal for throwing an outrageous party that would otherwise magnetize the entire police task force to the door.

Wonwoo glanced down at his phone.

Seokmin had sent him a text a few minutes ago, inquiring if him and Vernon were close by or at the house. He sent a message back about the worrying lack of parking spaces, and then continued to help Vernon search through the overcrowd for a hopeful pocket.

“Fuck… this isn’t lookin’ good…” Vernon lamented.

“I doubt there will be anything close to the house,” Wonwoo sighed, folding his arms in doubt. “It could be best to make a turn or go around the block? We might just have to take a hike.”

“Hansol Vernon Chwe doesn’t take fuckin’ hikes,” his friend jabbed, antsy fingers sculpting into his bitten lip while the other hand catered to steering the wheel. “I have this dude’s blow. Doesn’t that earn me a VIP-guest-list-skip-the-line type plot?”

Wonwoo scoffed. “Should’ve sorted that out earlier, man.”

“Shut your dorky ass up. I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

At that moment, the phone slid between his thighs vibrated with another text from Seokmin. His eyes widened at the invite.

[ Seokmin | 10:40 pm ]: Oh dw about street parking!

[ Seokmin | 10:40 pm ]: Use the gate at the house

“I think you’re right. I might have to turn,” Vernon announced in a defeated breath, brushing a hand through his dust black hair. “Get ready to see the best three-point turn that’s ever been turnt.”

“Just wait one minute,” Wonwoo then answered, leaning forward in his seat as he began to text Seokmin for more details.

[ Wonwoo | 10:41 pm ]: Gate?

[ Seokmin | 10:41 pm ]: Seungcheol’s got a gate that leads to this little underground parking thing. Some of his and Mingyu’s close friends are using it. Her’s friends, too

[ Wonwoo | 10:42 pm ]: Uh… I don’t know haha.

[ Seokmin | 10:42 pm ]: I asked Seungcheol, it’s fine!

[ Wonwoo | 10:42 pm ]: You sure?

[ Seokmin | 10:42 pm ]: Yup

[ Seokmin | 10:42 pm ]: Gate code is #1142!

“Don’t turn around, go up to the driveway and look for a gate,” Wonwoo instructed. “Apparently, this dude’s got an underground parking space. Seokmin gave me the code for it.”

“Jesus Christ,” disbelieving laughter swelled up from Vernon’s chest as he proceeded along the street. “This guy’s like, rich-rich. I wanna see all that fuckin’ cash up front. Bills in every colour.”

Wonwoo was just relieved that Seokmin was telling the truth, though he was nonetheless extremely anxious about using the parking space, and something sharp in his abdomen tightened upon reaching that bronze gate. Vernon had to roll down his window and partially lean outside to press in the code read from Wonwoo’s phone.

They both cast each other a bewildered glance when the gate separated automatically, allowing them access down the slant.

“Rich people can just do whatever they fuck they want, can’t they?” Vernon laughed, shaking his head. “Remind me not to steal anything while we’re wanderin’ around in there.”

But Wonwoo couldn’t say anything even half-conscious in response to his friend’s lazy joke. He was too busy focusing his breathing.

“Jeez, it's about time, huh?” Vernon’s words sounded rife with electricity as they approached the main entryway to the house, the brisk, nighttime air blowing back against their heated faces.

They had already witnessed several people slipping inside and out, to which the shuddering, clear blurt of the music would escape the doorway—not that they couldn’t hear it already. The deep and rhythmic bass was emanating from within Seungcheol’s house like a growl caught in a beast’s belly, and Wonwoo could only fathom what kind of damage his eardrums might sustain after the night was over.

Right before Vernon could touch the handle, the doors abruptly burst open with an aggressive swing, revealing two girls who were latched hand in hand, giggling to each other. The distinct stench of marijuana clouded after them down the steps.

Vernon opted to catch the left door before it could close.

“After you, Glasses,” he invited with an almost glimmering smirk, then gesturing inward at the practical void that awaited him—auroras of flashing light, loud conversation, and pounding music.

It seemed like stepping into another universe.

“Thanks for the chivalry,” Wonwoo answered.

He then forced himself into the mansion, not allowing the empty space in his mind to concoct ample regret or doubt. Vernon followed suit, the large door slamming shut in a forbidding manner behind the two boys, akin to a shoving a cork on a glass bottle and capturing all the sand grains inside. Wonwoo knew he could leave, though it didn’t feel like it. However, he didn’t want to act defeated before even starting the night. Maybe some of Seokmin’s miraculous optimism gloss would rub off on him before it was too late.

The thing was, Wonwoo had no idea what to think or do nor could he develop one sensible, sound thought that he might express to Vernon—the house was alive with what seemed to be a mighty sea of people. Some were mingling with their drinks loosely held in an attempt to feign casualness, pitching conversation despite the unrelenting music. Others were clashed together, dirty dancing, hands carnally wandering, probably thinking nothing other than how good it felt to be a part of the moment. Everything was so dim and dark. Lights blotched around the room in deep purples and blues.

Wonwoo had suddenly forgotten how to even move.

Until Vernon’s hand slapped his shoulder.

“Hey, what should we start with?!” His friend had practically shouted over the music and its hypnotizing synths. “Do you wanna get a drink? Smoke one out? Or should we find Seokmin?”

For a moment, Wonwoo just stared at him, trying hard through the murkiness and heat to match the words he was hearing with Vernon’s lips. The environment would take a bit getting used to.

“Also—,” he then grabbed Wonwoo’s shoulder, “—let’s move away from the door before we get fuckin’ trampled, yeah?”

Vernon helped guide Wonwoo further into the main living area, down a few stairs and toward the large square of couches. There was hardly any room to sit without being uncomfortably close to someone else—they were either in another person’s lap, swapping a disgusting amount of liquored spit, or completely faded and about as coherent as a rock. Wonwoo didn’t want to sit, anyway. He looked down at his phone, noticing that Seokmin had texted him again.

“Um, what do you want to do?” He decided to flip the question on Vernon, not wanting to be tasked with the decision.

Besides, he assumed his friend would know better.

“Me? I want a fuckin’ drink!” Vernon began to look around, though the air was notably veiled with a thin smoke and all the bodies were obstructing much view of anything. “Oh—I told you already, didn’t I?! That I’m definitely intendin’ to get shitfaced?! Did you figure out a ride in case you wanted t’go home later on?”

As Vernon began his quest to find a drink, Wonwoo was right behind him, remembering that Vernon had mentioned it already.

“I know!” He called out while reading Seokmin’s text.

[ Seokmin | 11:00 pm ]: There’s like two big living spaces

[ Seokmin | 11:00 pm ]: We’re not in the main one tho, easiest way is to go through the kitchen and out the other side!

Wonwoo had thought you would text him, and he couldn’t evade his disappointment at the expectation. He decided to assume that maybe you just didn’t know he was there yet. At most, he hoped you weren’t too blasted and at least cognizant enough to hold a conversation with him. Though, Wonwoo had not one inkling as to what you were like at parties. He could only imagine from the scattered bits and pieces he’d heard from yourself and Vernon. 

As Wonwoo followed Vernon down a foggy corridor, he suddenly bumped into the boy’s hard back with a bothered grunt. A girl had stepped out from a threshold that led into the kitchen and he realized that Vernon was only letting her leave before they entered.

She leaned in rather close to Vernon’s face, stroking a quick, flirtatious hand along the divots in his defined chest as she lilted aloud, “thanks, gorgeous.”

Her gaze switched to linger on Wonwoo for what felt like a long, excruciating eternity before proceeding past them in a confident stride down the dark and narrow hallway. Vernon kissed his teeth, staring back at Wonwoo with that hedonistic twinkle in his eyes.

“Okay—she was fine, not gonna lie.”

“Mmhm,” Wonwoo mumbled, adjusting his glasses, “can we at least get a drink first before you decide to start fucking people?”

“Why do you think we’re at the kitchen, smart ass?”

Shaking his head in dismissal at Vernon’s snarky comment, he urged the boy impatiently into the kitchen area (which was admittedly larger than Wonwoo’s entire living space).

One side of the room was lined with arrays of salty snacks, while the opposite contained big, rounded punch bowls of pre-mixed alcohol that people were dipping into with ladles. Vernon had noticed the option to mix your own drink, and thus Wonwoo was dragged toward the kitchen island where the boys waited to pick from the various bottles of alcohol and soft drinks left scattered about.

Wonwoo peeped down at his phone again while Vernon got easily caught up in conversation with a girl preparing a lemon shot.

He finally answered Seokmin’s texts.

“Hey, Glasses!” Vernon’s hand latched onto his shoulder, giving it a shake. “This is Sierra! She’s gonna make us our drinks!”

It took him a moment to properly decipher the girl Vernon had been speaking to, though, the longer he squinted through the shifty kitchen lighting, the more he could separate her silhouette and features from the dimness. She had a comfortable smile, full and warm, trustworthy, and so Wonwoo merely shrugged his agreement.

“Don’t worry,” the girl shouted, pulling aside two solo cups and then twizzling off the bottlecap to the rum, “I’m a bartender, actually. I used to work Room 319. Now I’m at Honeymoon.”

Vernon leaned his elbows on the granite, watching with intrigue as she sloshed a decent amount of alcohol into each cup.

“Room 319? You’ve definitely seen some shit,” he cackled.

“Oh, yeah. One-hundred percent.”

“Y’know, I tried getting this cunt to go—” Vernon jabbed an accusing thumb back at Wonwoo, “—but he’s such a flake!”

Sierra proceeded to grin quite demurely, flashing a quick, barely detectable glance toward Wonwoo, who had just managed to catch it while shoving the phone back into his pocket. She then grabbed a sweetener from amongst the clutter, tucking a short tuft of hair behind her ear before adding a small drizzle to each solo cup.

“Hey, it’s not for everybody!” Her cheeks flushed in the galactic, purplish light that flickered around the kitchen. “And, uh, this may sound weird, actually. But I recognize you, I think.”

“Oh, me?” Wonwoo was finally forced to speak.

“Yeah, uh—” she stumbled over her words a bit as she swirled the sweetener around inside the cups, “—from Bradbrook’s calculus. I think you sat a few rows ahead of me, or something. I just know because I, um—I was really close to failing the class. When I went to her for help, she gave me a ton of resources, even said I could try asking you about tutoring. She said you’re like, her best student.”

“Hm,” Wonwoo hummed, cracking his neck, “I’ve never tutored anyone—don’t know why she’d think to recommend me.”

“It’s okay! I never asked because you seemed like the type who didn’t want to be bothered,” Sierra responded, beginning to top off the drinks with some bubbling soda. “I figured it out, anyway.”

“Good for you,” Wonwoo commended.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if it was you, ‘cause your hair would always be down over your forehead in class. But you’ve got it all brushed and styled and stuff. It looks super nice!”

He smiled at her and mumbled, “thanks.”

“Well, I’m gonna get running! No matter where I end up, I always seem to be everyone’s mixologist at some point.”

Vernon dragged the alcohol over, maintaining his slouched position onto the island granite. Upon taking an experimental sip to taste the flavours and potency, his face momentarily soured, and then all his features relaxed. He was glowing like an ember, almost.

“No, that’s good. Tastes a bit like a… gummy bear?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s so delicious,” she agreed, shoving hands into her back pockets. “Tastes even better kissing it off someone.”

As Wonwoo stared down at his fizzling drink, debating his first sip, he again felt the transient flittering of her eyes ghost him.

“Go figure,” Vernon rasped, smiling, “appreciate it, player.”

“M’kay,” Sierra chirped and waved, ”bye!”

Not even a few seconds after she left, and someone else swooped in like an eagle to clasp the bottle of rum she’d once been handling, Vernon turned his head to Wonwoo with a raised brow.

“She was DTF for you, holy shit.”

“Hm?” Wonwoo sounded muffled with the solo cup now perched at his lips, allowing the drink to seep into his mouth, tasting the smoothness of the rum, and then the sweet. “What’s that mean?”

“DTF?” Vernon echoed. “Down to fuck!” He smacked his arm.

“That’s stupid and absurd.”

“Well, Glasses, you’re fuckin’ stupid and absurd if you didn’t see it. I mean, if you’re not gonna get a chance with Her, mine as well start seekin’ out what you can. Might make you less uptight.”

“No—that’s what makes you less uptight, not me.”

“I’m just sayin’, man—you’re hot and you don’t even take advantage of it. In no shapes or figures… forms? Whatever the stupid sayin’ is. You’ve got to live a little. But, whatever. Where’s Seokmin?”

“Through there, I think?” Wonwoo nodded toward a high-arched exit opposite to the side they entered the kitchen from. “That’s what he texted me. But I’ll double check anyway, to be sure.”

Flashing on his phone, Wonwoo finally saw your messages.

[ Her | 11:11 pm ]: wonwooooooo

[ Her | 11:11 pm ]: LIVING ROOM! I'm waiting!!!!

And just like that—like a splitting snap of the fingers—he felt everything all over again, and those nerves steamrolled him in the most pathetic way possible.

He stared down at his phone, moonfaced.

Wonwoo was happy you had remembered to message him, embarrassingly giddy at the thought, even. But he was also downright nauseous to reunite with your inquisitive friends, to meet Seungcheol, to again push through the intangible, brooding weight of seeing Mingyu. He took a gulp from the red cup, swishing the tart but sugared concoction between his cheeks before swallowing, hoping the rum burned down all his nerves in the throaty sting it left behind.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo rediscovered his voice, “through there.”

At first, he couldn’t identify you anywhere. The room was even bigger than the kitchen, just as poorly lit, with a high, pointed ceiling that somehow reminded him of the church he attended when he was too little to even properly grasp religion. But Wonwoo continued squinting through the jumbled crowd, making slow steps and surveiling the room each time alongside Vernon.

“I don’t see ‘em!” He shouted overtop the music, grabbing Wonwoo’s elbow to stop him from moulding into all the warm bodies.

“He said they’re in here!” Wonwoo raised his voice, checking his phone for another text, but seeing nothing. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

Sensing that fluttering, unsteady wind in his chest, Wonwoo was eager to indulge in another sip from his cup, desperately yearning for the alcohol to fucking hurry up and take its floating effect. Yet, as the taste subdued on his tongue, Wonwoo was able to notice a slight fissure that formed in between the congregation of people—a rather perfect alignment that revealed a home bar across the room, with familiar faces seated at the stools and more laughing behind the counter. That was when Wonwoo saw you, captured in a brush stroke of sweeping, amethyst light that dappled down your body.

You were leaned leisurely against Mingyu’s chest, holding onto his arm that draped like a protective sling over your shoulder, and Wonwoo supposed it was laid there with a not-so-subtle purpose.

Mingyu was speaking to his friend and co-host, Seungcheol, who was on the other side of the home bar, his lower back digging against the counter while he had quirked his head to still see Mingyu.

One face that Wonwoo had yet to discern was Seokmin, though, in all his honestly, Wonwoo wasn’t that fixated on further searching the low dusk and marijuana plumes hanging tacky in the air. He’d found you. All those nerves dissolved into comfort.

Maybe it was shallow, but that’s what he cared about most.

“Oh!’ Vernon piped up. “Damn. They’re right down there.”

And, before the crowd could readjust themselves to drown the slivered space between yourself and Wonwoo, your head turned.

In the nick of time, you seemed to recognize him, because that hazy, unfocused nature about your countenance shifted in a mere second, and he saw a smile pick its way along your mouth, like a springtime garden at last twirling abloom. You proceeded to nudge Mingyu’s arm aside, whispering something into his ear that he didn’t quite seem to hear correctly as he maintained his lengthy talk with Seungcheol.

Wonwoo knew he was smiling, too, bigger and bigger.

You wove your way through the crowd, to which Wonwoo couldn’t help himself from the short chuckle he spat out as you impatiently shoved aside the guy that had stepped into your way.

“Move! Oh my fucking God—”

But your flash of contempt didn’t last long.

A second later, you were buckling into Wonwoo.

Your arms reached up to curl tightly around his neck, and he felt the grooves of your warm, soft body press firm against him for the first time. Wonwoo was scared at the proximity, though his pounding heart ever so gradually calmed as he took in a deep breath and smelled that faint, fresh scent—strawberries. While it was undoubtedly integrated with some sort of spicy liquor, Wonwoo didn’t care. He pulled himself into the moment—realized how fucking badly he wanted to drop the solo cup and splay his hands at the open, revealing back of your outfit and feel your bare, supple skin.

But he couldn’t. Because Wonwoo wasn’t your boyfriend.

And you weren’t his to so unabashedly touch.

“I’m so fucking happy you made it!” He heard you squeal into his ear, his smile somehow widening at your animated voice.

“Yeah? Bit of a hassle, not gonna lie," Wonwoo answered.

“Parking? I’m sorry! I should have texted you about the gate!”

“No, no,” he laughed, trying his best and gentlest way to somehow ease some space in between you, “it’s okay. Everything worked out perfectly fine in the end. Don’t worry about it, alright?”

“You sure?”

Wonwoo looked into your eyes, so enchantingly bright and glistering as you blinked at him sympathetically, wearing a tiny pout.

Fuck—he wanted to kiss you.

It was such a blatant, jarring thought that Wonwoo couldn’t respond to your worry straight away, instead pushing down his urges.

“… I’m sure.”

“Well,” you then hummed, at last relaxing your hold around his neck and making some very unwanted but necessary space between your bodies, “is it still true?” You bit your lip afterward.

“Hm? Is what still true?”

Upon Wonwoo furrowing his brow, you pressed into him again, reaching up to his ear where you could comfortably talk and not worry about whether the music would muffle every syllable.

He felt the warmth of your breath tickle at his skin. And then—shivers, everywhere. Trickling down his spine. His nape. Not the kind from chilly, cold weather, or a scary movie, but a different kind that prompted his sense to disintegrate in a simple second.

“Do you still think I’m the prettiest here?”

Wonwoo sensed the grin paint his face, as easy as melting butter, though he hid it well in your sweet-scented hair.

“Mmhm, ‘course you are,” he answered, purposefully deepening his already deep voice. “You’re always the prettiest.”

One of your charming, seraphic giggles feathered at his ear and Wonwoo had never been so convinced that he would exchange just about anything in his life to call you his for the entire night.

“Um, hey, so… I don’t want to fuckin’ ruin your guys’ little reunion or nothin’, but I am still here, unfortunately!”

Damn—Wonwoo had kind of forgotten that Vernon was even there, and hearing his gruff voice break through the room’s drumming bass had quickly removed him from his fantasy. In a way, he was relieved, because Wonwoo knew he’d been thinking with unprecedented delusion and he needed something to draw a ripple through his thoughts before he became too meek to ignore them.

You then slotted yourself against Wonwoo’s side, adjusting the white strap grooving around the back of your neck. One arm remained around his wideset shoulders, latching him into place.

“Well, that’s an immaculate face I haven’t seen in a while,” you deadpanned at poor Vernon, sculpting him up and down with shameless judgement. “And what have you been up to? Selling MDMA from behind porta-potties to dumb, gullible first years?”

But Vernon took it well, as he was most likely expecting it.

“So, I won’t say no or yes to that.”

“Hm. Figures.”

Vernon shook his head, mustering up a husky laugh. “Should I assume you haven’t gotten over our incident, yet?”

Wonwoo felt your ovaled, sharp fingernails dig into his shoulder, and he settled his hand on your upper back to relax you.

“I’ll get over it when I want to get over it.”

“Okay, okay." A smile bled across Vernon’s face. “And I respect that, yeah? How ‘bout we both agree to keep it lax? That work at all?”

Despite your narrowed, seething eyes, you agreed.

“It works, for now.” You were in the midst of turning around, as though to begin pulling Wonwoo toward the bar, but you suddenly stopped on a dime, returning your glared focus back toward an unsuspecting, more lenient Vernon. “By the way, Princess is in a relationship with Seungcheol, so paws off. And don’t even think about trying to fuck Clara or Bells again or else you’ll need to take every single pill you fucking own in order to feel even a fraction of anything after I’m done beating your breaks off. Understand?”

“Uh, yes. I do. I understand.”

And then you grinned, though it was colder than outer space, and Wonwoo was more than pleased he wasn’t on the receiving end.

“Perfect! Now, let’s get everyone all introduced. I promise, though, there’s not many strangers. I guess just Seungcheol? Some of his friends are around here somewhere, I don’t know where.”

You curled an arm around Wonwoo’s elbow and began tugging him into the barricade of people, most stepping aside for you without request, like you were a princess or some other type of respected royalty. Wonwoo glanced back at Vernon who was already giving him a wide-eyed, skeptical expression, and so he made sure to dip his head close to Vernon’s ear to murmur some encouragement.

“At least your head isn’t ripped off.”

However, it might have not been the most thoughtful.

“Yeah, meta-fuckin’-phorically it is,” Vernon laughed back. “I forgot how scary the chick is. How have you not pissed your pants yet?”

“You get used to it after a while. N’hey—when the hell did you have sex with Clara and Bells?" Wonwoo couldn’t help himself from asking over his shoulder as he was further pulled along by your persistent guide.

“It was before you got to know Her, alright? But—” Vernon had suddenly leaned closer, his breath at Wonwoo’s ear, “—Bells is a fuckin’ homie hopper. Guaranteed she’ll try to get into your pants. I know she’s tried it with Seungcheol, Seokmin, probably you, tonight.”

“Well, you two sound like a match made in heaven.”

“Ha! Funny, man,” Vernon cackled, shoving his friend’s back in a teasing way. “No—she’s actually crazy. Gives good head, though.”

Wonwoo opted to ignore the last comment. He was soon at the bar alongside you, Vernon, and all the others, to which he noted your arm was still clasped around his elbow, a gesture that Wonwoo found himself greatly appreciating as everyone began pausing their own conversations to acknowledge the two newcomers. He didn’t know who to look at or greet first as his heartbeat thundered, though he recognized Clara and Bells seated together on two leather stools, a few emptied shot glasses aligned before them like dominos.

Princess, the friend Wonwoo always thought you were closest to, was behind the counter with Seungcheol, staring Wonwoo down through her hooded and smooth brown eyes. He felt Mingyu watching him too, though it discomforted him much more than Princess.

“Hey, nice to meet you guys, finally.” Seungcheol was leaning over the luminated countertop, bumping his fist against Wonwoo’s, and then Vernon’s. “Hope you’re finding it alright.”

Wonwoo had never met Seungcheol despite hearing his name frequently throughout campus, especially during the prime months for partying. The consensus was that everyone seemed to like and respect him for his cordial, easygoing attitude and sportsmanship, since he played a lot of basketball for the university’s principal varsity team. Wonwoo had never once heard anything concerning or relatively malicious about the guy. He was almost akin to a celebrity.

“We got in not too long ago,” Vernon explained, and Wonwoo was grateful he took the conversating initiative, “seems crazy. And thanks for lettin’ us use your garage! Street parkin’ was ass.”

“Shit, yeah. I get it.” Seungcheol shrugged in agreement, meanwhile drawing a shallow glass over to himself. “It’s no problem, man. You did us a favour with the blow. I’ll pay upstairs, yeah?”

“Hey, it’s all good. What’re you pourin’ up?’

Princess suddenly reached around Seungcheol’s shoulder, removing the large, maple bottle he was about to twist open.

“He’s not pouring up anything,” she smiled, placing the alcohol on a shelf behind her, “because whiskey gets him beyond hammered, and I need him coherent for at least another hour.”

Seungcheol turned around, his mouth hung open.

“Okay—I was gonna pour out a splash.”

The girl grabbed his sharp jaw, giving Seungcheol’s face a tender shake before pushing her lips against his. His previous objection suddenly disappeared like morning dew. For a couple that had recently started dating according to your allegory, they seemed remarkably comfortable with each other.

“Okay—shot, shot!” Bells yelped excitedly, slapping her hand against the polished countertop as Clara grabbed a tequila bottle.

“Oh, god.” Your eyes rolled, and Wonwoo heard the exhaustion in your tone. “Have fun getting alcohol poisoning.”

Mingyu scoffed, crossing his broad, buff arms. “They’ll be blackout in less than an hour.”

“What for?” Vernon asked.

You finally let go of Wonwoo, grabbing your own solo cup off the countertop and taking a fast swig before answering.

“Whenever Seungcheol and Princess kiss, they take a shot.”

“And they kiss a lot—" Clara hiccupped, a very inebriated fog cast across her gaze, “— even more than Her n’ Mingyu!”

“Oh, don’t bring us into this,” you snapped from behind your drink, leaning an elbow onto the bar, “take your shot and can it.”

“I’m starting to not even taste it!”

The giggling spilled from Bells’ mouth like a waterspout, to which both her and Clara leaned in close to each other’s faces, their expressions warping with breathless, dry gulps of laughter.

“Excuse them,” Princess then muttered, resting an arm along Seungcheol’s firm back, waves of moonlit blue dancing across her dark skin while she eyed her cackling friends with bits of judgement and concern. “I’m starting to believe they have an alcohol problem.”

“So, if I lose you later, should I assume you’re in the washroom holding back their hair?” Seungcheol then huffed into his clasped hands, flicking soft eyes up toward his sighing girlfriend.

She pulled at a long braid of her hair, nodding.

“If I’m not, I’ll buy you dinner.”

“Fuck, I like those odds, baby," he rasped, leaning back.

Princess smiled, squeezing his shoulder.

“No, you absolutely don’t, sweetheart.”

Wonwoo smiled at them, exercising his best effort to follow all the conversation even though his brain was whirring on overdrive. He was in the midst of sipping from the sweetened rum when Clara’s eyes snapped akin to a locket with his own, and she immediately squealed.

“Oh! You! From Spring Street! Mr. Deep Voice!”

Lowering the cup from his face, Wonwoo’s heart dropped.

He was more than perfectly okay with sitting on the sidelines and contributing nothing to the flow of conversation other than trivial nods and agreeable half-smiles. But Clara had singled him out, and now Bells was at last squirming around in her seat, her eyes patted with a popping, brilliant lime green as opposed to shimmery blue.

You tilted your head in questioning at Clara. “Yes, yes, we’ve been over this, girl. He’s been standing here the past five minutes.”

“Wonwoo!” Bells shrieked. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“He doesn’t need to say anything.” Wonwoo heard the irritable grit rub through your voice as you straightened your posture and propped a hand to your hip, glaring at your friends. “Why don’t you let him enjoy his drink instead of shouting at him?”

From behind, Mingyu’s large hand slid around your waist and stopped at your lower stomach, pulling you a step back into his chest.

“Relax. She’s drunk as fuck, alright?” He murmured by your temple, planting a reassuring kiss.

“Nah, it’s okay.” Princess was quick to diffuse any degree of tension before it could morph into a terrifying flame. “He’s just quiet, that’s all. Nothing wrong with it. I like your hair, Wonwoo.”

He clenched his fist tight, nodding at her.

“Thanks.”

It was only one goddamn word, but he’d choked it out with all the strength harboured in his chest and lungs. Princess smiled at him.

“Glasses is cool. All his jokes will come out later.” Vernon teased despite the instant, needling stare Wonwoo shot his way.

“Hey, no pressure,” Seungcheol laughed, swiping his phone off the bar countertop. “Should we all head upstairs? I’ve got a nice little room set up for us—can smoke and mellow out a bit, play some cards, finally get to that blow—whatever you guys think is best.”

“Fuck, I’m down.” Sliding off the leather stool, Mingyu came to his feet and agreed, his hand still settled at your stomach.

His utterance was met with a chorus of likewise answers.

Wonwoo suddenly felt your fingertips graze his hand.

“Are you okay with that?” You asked him personally, smiling in a reassuring, nonchalant manner that helped ease his stiltedness.

“Yeah,” he answered, delighted to see the sparks that jumped into your eyes through the shadows and nebulas of lavender light.

The room Seungcheol had referred to was quite separated from the party booming onward downstairs, though he claimed not to be worried about it much since his other friends were keeping tabs on all the action. Wonwoo appreciated the quieter, more laidback atmosphere that allowed him to actually think and analyze his situation, which he unfortunately could not help himself from doing.

It was a cozy and personally developed space—probably the room Seungcheol spent most of his time in. Large, pristine movie posters were perfectly tapered to covering an entire wall, with stringed, dull-glowing lights swooped around the wooden infrastructure of the ceiling. A billiard ball table was toward the left, and then a circular table to the right, stacked with miscellaneous things such as playing cards, textbooks, and poker chips.

There were some shelves by the windows, mostly to hold decorative items, though Wonwoo saw a number of trophies from what he assumed to be Seungcheol’s past sports competitions. 

Everyone began to settle.

As Vernon waltzed over to the couch by the cluttered table, he’d suddenly looked down at the cushions with a gruff shout.

“Fuck! Jesus Christ, Seokmin! What the fuck are you doin’?”

“Oh, yeah—the poor baby got a headache,” you crooned, walking toward the couch with a teasing smirk. “He thought he’d try and avoid all of us by coming up here and taking a nap.”

“I wasn’t napping,” Seokmin grumbled while pushing himself to sit up, swatting back your hand that rifled through his dark brown tresses disarrayed in every direction, “I was relaxing, that’s all.”

“Dude, you looked like you were dead,” Vernon laughed, stepping around from behind the couch to sit on the arm.

Leaning against a desk with two large speakers on it, Mingyu folded his arms, smiling at Seokmin whose face was beginning to tint red from all the attention. “That’s just how he looks when he sleeps.”

“Thanks…” Seokmin answered, standing up and dusting himself off. “Guess I’m never staying the night at your place again.”

“Well, if you’re not going to take the couch, I think these two should simmer down for a hot minute,” Princess said, shuffling the stumbling, giggling duo, Bells and Clara, to take a much needed seat.

“Okay, yeah. Mingyu, throw on some music. Give everyone a chance to get nice n’ comfy.” Seungcheol then beckoned toward Vernon. “Over here, man. Let’s get this shit sorted out.”

“Ah, right, right.”

His friend was quick to rise from the couch and meet Seungcheol in the corner of the room, by the billiard table as well as a small black safe. Mingyu pulled out his phone, linking up his Bluetooth with Seungcheol’s expensive sound system, and music soon replaced the empty air in the room. He then joined Seungcheol and Vernon in the corner. Wonwoo opted not to sleuth and glanced elsewhere.

He saw that you were already talking to Princess, the two of you pulling out some beers and other drinks from a fridge he hadn’t noticed before, and while he positively wanted to make time for a conversation with you, Wonwoo thought he should bother Seokmin first. The boy was shoving open a windowpane across the room.

“Hey, liar,” he announced in a dragging but not overly serious tone. “Not downstairs like you said you were, huh?”

Seokmin turned around, rubbing his face.

“I know, I know. I got a headache at the last minute. But I knew everyone would come upstairs. Glad you could make it!”

“Well then, how much of a headache should I be expecting?”

“Eh, depends,” his friend answered.

Wonwoo shrugged. “Depends on what?”

“I can’t imagine you jumping around on a countertop with your shirt off and a whippet in your hand.”

He snorted. “Is that what you were doing?”

“No—I was the one trying to get them off the counter.”

“Fair.”

 “I think you’ll be fine. At most, you’ll step outside for some air and get a nice breeze in your hair. No biggie… what’s that?”

“Uh, just a drink this girl whipped up. Sierra.”

“Oh.” Seokmin’s eyes brightened. “You mean Sierra Gomez?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Did she have like, chin length, sort of coarse and frizzy brown hair? Freckles all over her cheeks? ‘Cause that’s Sierra Gomez. She works at the… the, um… Honeymoon! Yeah. The Honeymoon. She’s nice—used to stare at the back of your head all the time in calculus.”

“Hm.”

“Anyway—whatever—random thought.”

“Who used to stare at the back of your head in calculus?”

Turning around, Wonwoo noticed that you had approached their conversation at the open window, an abrupt flourish of wind sweeping back unto your inquisitive yet slightly firm expression. A bottle was in your hand, and you took a quick, easy sip from it.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Seokmin dismissed.

“No, tell me.”

Your eyes then flitted between himself and Seokmin. There was an innocent smile on your face that nursed the beer bottle.

“A girl who used to look at Wonwoo all the time during calculus with Bradbrook. She made him his drink, that’s all.”

“Really? Is that so?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Apparently.”

“Who?” You asked, still maintaining that polished smile.

Seokmin chuckled, “nah, you wouldn’t know her.”

“Maybe I do.”

“No,” he was persistent on convincing you, pulling at the flushed cusp of his ear, “I know you don’t. It’s not a big deal.”

Your focused gaze then lasered into Seokmin, and much of the airy politeness to your voice had gradually sharpened out.

“If it’s not a big deal then tell me.”

Music from the speaker system atop the nearby desk drowned the momentary silence that lasted between the three. Wonwoo concentrated on the lyrics and the depth of the sensual beat, trying his hardest to mentally escape the odd tension smouldering up.

Seokmin was biting his lip, hard.

“Tell me.” You now were demanding rather than asking.

“It’s not—”

“Seokmin!”

“Okay, okay! Sierra Gomez. That’s the girl.”

Wonwoo shifted his eyes to you, observing the manner in which you quirked your head, pursed your bottom lip, and began staring around the room in an honest attempt to place the name that Seokmin had so frighteningly blurted, almost like a suspect under interrogation. And then you were shrugging, sipping from your cold drink.

“Hm, don’t know her.”

“Like I said...” his friend sighed, leaning backward into the cool breeze and settling his hands against the windowsill.

“She’s here? And she made you that?” You asked.

Wonwoo looked down at his cup, almost completely emptied.

“… Um, yeah.”

There was a nearly imperceptible falter that spilt across your face, though it travelled so quickly, like a blink of light, and Wonwoo was starting to think that maybe he hadn’t even seen it at all.

“Well, that was really nice of her.” A strange breathiness lingered in your tone. “I mean, I don’t know her but she sounds really… nice. I’ll have to chat with her someday. I don’t know what we’ll talk about… something nice, probably. Yeah. We’ll do that.”

Upon sensing your very unusual discomfort, Wonwoo thought he might try to quell whatever series of emotions must be taking shape behind those glassy eyes. But almost from thin air, Mingyu was at your side, sliding an arm around your waist and his head poking down to kiss your cheek. Wonwoo ate his words right back up.

“Sorry to bite the conversation,” Mingyu excused himself, removing the arm from your waist to hang off your shoulder instead, where it covered the same revealing patch of your cleavage. “But I like keeping an eye on this one—” he pecked your temple, “—one sip she’s normal, the next she’s on top of the damn table giving everyone a fuckin’ show they don’t deserve. Hard to tell what she’s gonna do.”

Your uptight posture melted habitually against Mingyu’s chest, meanwhile a slight snarl forged across your lips.

Wonwoo knew that his drink was getting empty, and he didn’t want to waste the remainder on trying to survive the unfortunate conversation he’d been whisked into. He realized how much he hated talking to Mingyu, especially now that Wonwoo was closer to you.

“Alright, you don’t need to overembellish.”

“Ha! Overembellish?” A heavy laugh flew off Mingyu’s tongue as he gave your shoulder a soft shake, staring down at you with his curious, twinkling eyes. “What am I overembellishing, pretty girl? Huh? You don’t remember that dance with Clara? Kicking that dude’s drink off the table? High out of your fuckin’ mind, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I remember. My problem is that you’re painting me out to be a mindless slut just waiting to show off. It’s not like I go into these situations, intending to get on a table and kick people’s drinks and shit. I’m just going with what I feel in the moment. I mean, I’m sure it gets a bit slutty. But that’s part of the fun. At least, I think.”

Okay—Wonwoo didn’t give a fuck about preserving his drink any more. He immediately dove in to take a generous sip, staring down the cup like there was something profoundly captivating scribbled on the bottom. Now that he was thinking about it, Wonwoo realized this is his first time witnessing your dynamic with Mingyu.

Mingyu sighed, tongue prodding against his inner cheek.

“Can’t make it easy, can you?”

At that, you cackled, tipping your head against his neck.

“Never. You should know that by now.”

“The important thing is, everyone has a good time.” Seokmin decided to add his two cents, not seeming as stiffened by the conversation as Wonwoo, probably since he was accustomed to it.

Nonetheless, it prompted your signature eye roll.

“Hey everyone! Seokmin thinks the most important part of a party is that everyone has a good time!” You mockingly chided, proceeding to raise the bottle to your mouth for another sip while Mingyu rubbed his nose, laughing. “Did that really need to be said?”

Partially closing the window, Seokmin chuckled. “I’m just saying it ‘cause you guys always bicker and bring the mood down.”

Your grip around the beer bottle visibly tightened.

“Bicker?! We don’t bicker!”

“Are you serious?” Seokmin folded his arms, a disbelieving smile mixed with puzzlement carving his mouth. “You just did!”

“No, that wasn’t bickering," you stated. “That was Mingyu saying something stupid and me correcting it. Purely factual.”

Shaking his head, Mingyu merely smirked. “Mmhm. Let’s go with that.” Though, it was quite obvious he was holding back what he actually wanted to say, but didn’t want to prove Seokmin’s point.

“Anyways, I’m not trying to make you look bad,” Seokmin mumbled, brushing a hand along an itch on his arm. “So, whatever you see here, Wonwoo, take it with a grain of salt, I guess.”

God, no.

He’d wanted so desperately to remain invisible—to not be summoned into the conversation in any way, shape, or form.

“Please,” you sounded exasperated, messing about with your hair, “I’m sure Wonwoo’d be the last person to care, anyway.”

At the worst possible time, he’d completely exhausted his soda and rum, and there was not even a single drop for him to make a lame show of sipping up. Wonwoo didn’t know whether or not to say anything. Maybe, if he just smiled genuinely, nodded his head, then everything would keep moving and he could somehow escape the burdensome pressure. However, what he failed to realize was that his overthinking gave him a very dazed expression that made it seem as though he wasn’t listening at all. Seokmin suddenly slapped his arm.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Dude’s not even paying attention. Mentally checked out ‘cause of your arguing.”

“No. I’m listening,” Wonwoo answered, knowing the longer he stayed quiet the more guilty and strange he’d appear. “I just figure it’s better to let you guys hash it out. I’d rather not get involved.”

“Smart,” Mingyu huffed, to which Wonwoo found himself in the crosshairs of his intimidating gaze. “Best not to pick sides, right?”

“Oh my gosh, there are no sides.” Elbowing the tall, dark-haired boy gently in his rib, you shook your head. “And even if there were, I’m forcing him to take my side. You obviously have Seokmin.”

“When you are going to stop saying that?” Mingyu sounded notably annoyed at your comment, though you merely shrugged it off, instead wrapping a small hand with his in a successful attempt to pull him away from the conversation at the breezy window.

“Don’t whine, Gyu. Let’s go talk to Princess.”

Once you were gone, Wonwoo looked to Seokmin with some vague hope that he would share his astonishment at the situation. He couldn’t tell if you and Mingyu just clashed so naturally because your relationship was the long lasting, weathered kind where there were lots of little quips due to your shared comfortability. Or, maybe there was something else he was missing. But Seokmin didn’t seem even relatively phased, which lead Wonwoo into thinking that it was his overanalyzing brain picking things apart unnecessarily.

“Oh, I’ve gotta talk with Vernon for a sec.” His friend remembered, pointing out the tattooed boy who was closely admiring all the expensively framed film posters. “Nice to see you, though!”

The second Seokmin had slipped away, Wonwoo occupied his old position against the windowsill, letting his head tilt back until it bumped with the glass. A timidly building sickness ached in his stomach at the worry of all his conversations feeling like that—so agonizing, uncomfortable, with his mind racing a mile a minute.

He sighed aloud, attempting to steady his breathing.

Things would get better. They had to.

“Hey, Wonwoo! You wanna sit?”

Following the abrupt voice over to the now organized, tidied table, Wonwoo saw that it was Seungcheol who called his name. He tilted his head at an empty seat and Wonwoo decided to take the boy up on the offer rather than stumble into the undertow of his self-inflicted panic. Besides, Seungcheol was fairly relaxed and seemed easy to converse with—a much needed repose from Mingyu. As he sat down, setting his empty cup aside, Seungcheol leaned forward with his chin pressing down between his thumb and index finger.

“You okay?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Wonwoo nodded. “I’m good.”

Relaxing back into his seat, Seungcheol smiled.

“Just making sure. I know it’s not always the easiest trying to make it through a Her-Mingyu-Seokmin three-way—pause—ignore how weirdly I phrased that,” he laughed, rubbing along his jaw.

The air around Wonwoo tinged with an immediate sense of relief, and he found himself relaxing, too, stretching out his legs.

“Yeah,” he then breathed out deeply, the tension in his chest loosening up. “I assume it’s best to just shut the fuck up.”

“Mmhm.” Seungcheol was eager to nod in agreement. “Yeah, exactly. Shut the fuck up, and give the most neutral answers if needed. It’s honestly a skill. You’ve gotta be a world class fence sitter.”

“So it seems.”

“Anyway, I’m curious—what’re you studying?”

“Nothing exciting. Mathematics, specifically calculus. I like a bit of data and statistics, too. I don’t know. Just, analyzing stuff.”

“Hm,” Seungcheol crossed his arms, grinning, “can’t say I’d be very good at all that. You want to be a data analyst or something?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve thought about teaching, too.”

“University?”

“Yeah… I heard you’re in biomedical now.”

“Mmhm—switched my whole degree—can thank Junhui for that. He’s around here, somewhere. I like it, though. No regrets about it or anything. Besides—” Seungcheol turned his head toward the billiard ball table where Princess was chatting with you and Mingyu, a fond, amorous expression softening his face, “—that’s how I met Princess. I mean, she’s so intelligent, level-headed, thoughtful. Finally worked up the courage to ask her out, like… two months ago, now? Things have been smooth sailing since.”

“I can see that. You guys mesh together well,” Wonwoo answered, at first staring at Princess, but sensing his eyes naturally drift toward you and that tight hold Mingyu had at your bare waist.

“Thanks, man. Hey—I should say congrats, by the way.”

“Hm?” Wonwoo mumbled, spreading his legs. “What for?”

“Frontiers. You got a super good score.”

“Oh, that… uh, thanks. I mean, it was last year.”

Seungcheol’s face immediately scrunched with laughter.

“What?”

“Shit. It’s nothing.” Seungcheol was still chuckling a bit between his breathy words. “I love how you shrug it off. Like, whenever your name comes up, it’s always next to how smart you are, man. I love that you don’t even fucking care. If that were me, I’d be the most pretentious piece of shit—it’s actually insane.”

Wonwoo paused for a second to think, looking at his sneakers, and then back at Seungcheol, the cogs in his mind beginning to whirr.

“I didn’t think my name would come up much. If at all.”

“No, no, it does,” he answered, bouncing his fist off the table with another chuckle. “Hey—you get around more than you think.”

Maybe Seungcheol’s words were supposed to be uplifting, or rewarding to hear, but Wonwoo felt his stomach drop and a horrible, papery dryness spread throughout his mouth. He absolutely hated the thought of people talking about him, discussing him, perceiving him.

“Oh, yeah! Shit, I’ve been meaning to ask—” Seungcheol brightened and shuffled further up in his seat, “—Mingyu says you speak Korean? Were you born there, or from your parents, maybe?”

Wonwoo picked at his thumb slightly.

“Uh, yeah, I do. I was born there.”

“Same. Daegu.”

“Changwon.”

Seungcheol smiled, and when he switched so fluidly from his English to Korean, Wonwoo needed a moment to comprehend the different syllables and speech patterns hitting his ear. It was almost like a glitch, but it was infinitesimal, and Wonwoo processed it quick.

“Mingyu didn’t know where you were born. He just said he’d spoken Korean with you. It’s nice to hear, right?”

“It is. My parents still live in Changwon. Though their English is limited so I hardly ever use it with them.”

Nodding his head in understanding, Seungcheol then propped a leg onto his knee and began to grin. “It’s the same for me. I don’t know if Mingyu’s told you—he wasn’t born there but his parents spoke it around him growing up.”

“I’ve heard…”

“So Seokmin says you like to write?”

“Yes. Reading and writing.”

“I’m not much of a writer. I used to love reading. I still do, actually. But it’s difficult to make time for it.”

Wonwoo agreed. He would have never pegged Seungcheol as someone who enjoyed reading, mostly due to his reputation and his plethora of outlandish, jock friends, though he was pleasantly surprised to hear it.

“I haven’t been reading much myself. Or writing. I’m in a burnout, I suppose.” A sigh fell defeatedly from Wonwoo’s mouth. “It’s frustrating. What kind of books did you read?”

“Nothing unique. Lord of the Rings. I went through a period of really liking Goosebumps, too.” He  then bit his inner cheek in contemplation as he thought harder about his catalogue. “The weirdest book I remember reading was Walking Practice by Dolki Min. It gave me nightmares.”

“I’ve heard lots of mixed opinions about it.”

“It’s a book you read once, somehow manage to enjoy, but know you’ll never revisit… hm, it’s got me thinking…” Seungcheol was suddenly leaning forward, an arm dangling off the table as his forehead wrinkled with effort at placing a certain memory. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you used to date that girl who worked at the university library? I think her name was… shit—” he snapped his fingers a few times, bit down hard on his rosy lip while his dark brow furrowed, “—Jeanie? I believe that’s it. She always wore a little pin on her pullovers. Didn’t really talk much. At least not to me. She was shy but seemed sweet.”

For a second, Wonwoo thought he misheard Seungcheol—that the music from the speaker system was blaring much too loud and he somehow misinterpreted a word or sentence. He even dug into his ear for a second, sat up in his chair instead of casually leaning backward.

“What?”

Wonwoo hadn’t even realized he’d dropped his Korean.

“Oh, I was asking about that girl you used to date. It was Jeanie, right? She worked at the university library.” When Wonwoo kept staring at him without so much as a sound, blink, or even a tiny twitch, Seungcheol waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Fuck, my bad. I’m probably confusing you with someone else.”

“No... you’re not.”

It had felt like a gunshot—realizing the specific pronunciation and shaping of Seungcheol’s lips hadn’t been misinterpreted at all. He was in fact saying what Wonwoo dreaded, feared, like the ghost stories from his childhood that his brother would utter through a white, dying flashlight until Wonwoo uncontrollably wept. Like the last step at his parents’ house he used to constantly miss, his heart practically jamming into his throat each and every time. It was that slow, nauseating accumulation of anxiety in his stomach, coming to buzz and rumble akin to a beehive. It was all those stupid mistakes.

Jeanie. To hear her name in another person’s mouth was almost sickening. To think about her again was pure heartache.

“That’s what I figured,” Seungcheol said. “She was nice, but I don’t think she came back in the fall… I don’t want to assume anything. Just a memory.” He reeled back on the topic as Wonwoo sat adjacent to him, paler than an alabaster pearl.

“Yeah…” he managed to croak out, feeling a rasp develop somewhere deep in his throat, “we’re not together anymore.”

“Hey, it is what it is,” Seungcheol affirmed, putting on a sincere smile that Wonwoo found a pinch of solace in. “We don’t have to fuckin’ mull over it or anything. All that shit’s in the past, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Right. You’re here now, amongst friends, I hope.”

Wonwoo swallowed, thinking about what Seungcheol said.

He then shifted his head toward the billiard ball table. Vernon was now involved in a very passionate conversation with Mingyu that Wonwoo was unable to hear from his distance. The two boys were bouncing back and forth, animated in their hand motions and expressions, meanwhile you and Princess were passing the most subtly judgmental looks between each other. For a moment, Wonwoo’s gaze caught your own, to which you shot him an innocuous eye roll paired with a small but tenderly growing smile. That thick uneasiness in his chest pulled back like a receding ocean tide and Wonwoo knew he was okay again.

Seungcheol took note of the glance, and he grinned.

“It seems you’re pretty close with Her.”

Turning his attention back to Seungcheol, Wonwoo nodded.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. She’s… um…”

“Hard to describe, isn’t she?” Seungcheol answered for him, now observing the scene at the billiard ball table as well.

Wonwoo almost hesitated asking his next question, but before his brain could make much sense of it, he was already speaking.

“Does Mingyu always do that?”

Seungcheol chuckled, “do what?”

“He’s on her like a fucking sticker.”

Undoubtedly, his heart sank in at the predictable answer.

“Yeah, Gyu’s always got his eye on her. I understand where he’s coming from. She attracts a lot of attention. He straight up socked this dude in the face last year for hitting on her. I mean, to be fair, he was drunk and Her can tend to be a little… well, she likes to push his buttons. It was high tension all night. Bound to explode.”

Remembering his meal at Solar Pop with Vernon a few weeks ago, Wonwoo knew how anxious his friend had been at the thought of getting ungracefully decked in the face by Mingyu’s knuckles. While it never happened—and Wonwoo was certain then that it wouldn’t—he would hate to be on the receiving end of whatever power Mingyu did pack behind a serious punch. Wonwoo despised fighting and conflict. There was often a cutting, wolfish nature wading about Mingyu’s dark gold eyes that quite frankly petrified him enough.

Considering how fearful Vernon had seemed, Wonwoo was surprised the boy was even talking with Mingyu so freely. But that forgiving, never-take-anything-too-seriously gene was just embedded straight into Vernon’s core. He could get along with anybody.

“Hm,” was all Wonwoo hummed in response.

Since he had been laser-focused analyzing the cordial, humorous conversation between Vernon and Mingyu, he failed to note that Princess had joined her boyfriend at the table. Upon turning his head out of worry he might be caught staring, Wonwoo finally saw the beautiful girl leaning against Seungcheol’s back from behind; her arms draped comfortably around his neck and her cheek pressed to his midnight black hair. Wonwoo flashed an awkward half-smile.

“You guys getting to know each other?” She asked.

Seungcheol exchanged an agreeing glance with Wonwoo.

“Mmhm. We’re basically two peas in a pod now,” the boy proceeded to joke while Princess grinned down at him, her eyes gleaming. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool. One smart cookie, y’know?”

“Wow. Smarter than you, yeah?” She laughed, now straightening up and resting just a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, can’t be a winner in everything.”

“Oh. Maybe you can’t.”

“Shit—watch yourself, missy.”

Seungcheol quickly twisted around in his chair, managing to catch Princess by the waist and playfully wrestle her onto his lap. She hardly fought in retaliation against him, a huge, warm smile glowing from her face as she let herself get wrapped in his squeezing arms.

Wonwoo wasn’t sure if he wanted to throw up. It’s not that he was some spiteful, self-loathing recluse who couldn’t stand seeing others in healthy relationships—it wasn’t that at all. What he despised was the loneliness it reflected unto himself, and the deeply unsettling thought that he was just too damaged, insecure, and unlovable to ever truly warrant the pure trust of another. He feared he could never bring his inner self to fruitfully open in such vulnerable ways.

“Hey, Wonwoo. I just noticed your cup’s empty.”

When he connected with the earnest gaze of Princess, he realized she was pointing at the red cup left untouched by his elbow.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Do you want a beer? Or a chaser?” She offered in a polite tone as Seungcheol gently moved her long braids aside to drape over her far shoulder. “We have lots of stuff in the fridge over there.”

He bit into his lip, thinking.

“Doesn’t have to be a drink,” Seungcheol said, shrugging. “If you smoke, I’ve got some stuff already crushed up. Uh, I’ve got a bong around here somewhere. I think it’s on the shelf. Rolling papers, too. Don’t know how you prefer to smoke it.”

“Papers, usually,” Wonwoo answered.

“Cool. I’ve got that.”

With two soft, careful hands gliding up her waist, Seungcheol sweetly urged Princess to her feet and then pitched an announcement that anyone interested in smoking could come to the table.

Princess swiped the blue bong from Seungcheol’s shelf.

“I’m going for a bowl,” she said, clicking her tongue.

“Ou, me too!” Clara chirped, using Bells’ arm to help shove herself off the sofa, ignoring the way her friend whined.

“I’ll come sit with you guys,” Princess added, “just make a little room. And try not to throw up on me if you can help it.”

Wonwoo was in the midst of being accompanied at the table, with Vernon dragging out the chair to his left while Mingyu occupied the seat across from him. He watched the boy’s arm stretch out to accommodate you onto his lap, and Wonwoo assumed the hand he couldn’t see was groping your thigh underneath the table. In the pit of his stomach, Wonwoo knew what that slimy, bitter feeling was, though he refused to acknowledge it—he wouldn’t even look at you.

Seungcheol tossed a ziplock bag filled with weed onto the table and spread out an array of thin, dull, white rectangular papers.

Immediately, Vernon was tugging on Wonwoo’s sleeve.

“Can you roll mine, dude?”

“Hm?” Mingyu grunted, seeming amused. “You’re asking Wonwoo to roll your joint? You're a fucking drug dealer.”

“I’ve never met anyone who can roll as good as him,” his friend complimented, leaning back in the wooden chair and firmly shaking Wonwoo’s shoulder. “If he’s in the room, I’m gettin’ him to roll. He’s got nice, talented, dexterous fingers. Isn’t that right?”

Reaching for a translucent paper and smoothing out the crinkles, a suspect arch made its way to Wonwoo’s brow, meanwhile the tips of his ears burned with all the eyeballs examining his every fucking move. Wonwoo opened the baggie, beginning to shake out the pre-grinded bud as he held the paper in a curled shape.

“Please don’t talk about my fingers like that,” he muttered, pushing up his glasses. “Check that. You want a little more or less?”

“Nah, leave it at that,” Vernon answered.

Brushing a hand through his hair, Seungcheol then crossed his arms, smirking. “I wanna see it when you’re done rolling.”

“Me too,” Mingyu agreed, staring Wonwoo down like a hawk.

“Great. Why don’t we pass the joint around the table when he’s done with it, and we can all grade it. How fun,” you mumbled sarcastically, slumping forward and resting your chin against a palm.

“You gonna smoke or not, sweetheart?” Mingyu asked.

“I don’t know yet…”

Wonwoo knew you were staring at him while he fiddled with removing a crease in the partially rolled paper, because there was an itch crawling along him, like a sunburn, but not quite. Though, he opted to continue focusing on the joint, even with your eyes breathing him in from across the table, craving his acknowledgement.

“Lick there,” he instructed, holding the paper for Vernon.

From the couch, Wonwoo heard a bubbly laugh. It was Bells, her legs kicked up onto Princess’ lap without a care in the world while Princess sparked a lighter to help Clara ignite the sapphire bowl.

“Wonwoo, if you make one for me, can you lick it?”

He simply ignored her while carefully tucking at the joint.

Wonwoo turned to Vernon again. “Lick.”

After some finely tuned adjustments that required his utmost focus, Wonwoo was at last satisfied with the roll, then handing the joint off to Vernon for him to further pack and twist up. Once his friend finished the job, he passed the joint back to Wonwoo, who further gave it down to Seungcheol. The boy glanced over it closely.

“Damn… that’s pretty fuckin’ good, can’t lie.”

“Let me see," Mingyu practically demanded, granting Seungcheol the slimmest opportunity to even pass the joint along.

He’d snatched it up and settled back in his seat—nearly sliding you straight off his lap in the process—squinting to find some stupid imperfection or mistake he could point out, though, there was nothing. Without a word, he passed the smoke to Vernon.

“See? Told ‘ya. Glasses never fails me.”

“If you don’t mind—” Seungcheol rubbed at his bottom lip, staring at Wonwoo with a quirked eyebrow, “—could I get one?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Mingyu won’t say it but you should roll one for him, too.”

As Wonwoo pulled another paper toward him, he managed to look at you, and the little spark that jumped into your pretty eye. He smiled because you were smiling, and that always made him feel so inexplicably warm inside, like the soft melting of browned caramel.

“I can do that,” he said, to which Mingyu nodded his head.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll roll one for you, too, Her. I mean, if you want it.”

“Okay. That’s sweet. Maybe later.”

You smiled at him again.

He smiled back.

Wonwoo wasn’t sure how it happened or who initially decided the idea, but someone had suggested poker, and now the entire table was cleared off with the exception of Seungcheol’s playing cards and the multi-coloured chip stacks. They decided on classic Texas Hold’em because everyone who’d decided to join was most familiar with the style, though Wonwoo cared to dabble more in Blackjack as there was a mathematical basis to it that scratched a satisfying itch in his brain. Nonetheless, he was fairly good at Texas Hold’em, too.

Vernon hated playing with him, and he made that extremely apparent through his moaning while Princess shuffled the card deck. There was a decent number of people playing—only you, Clara, and Bells chose to sit on the sidelines and observe. Wonwoo had wanted you to play, but you kept declining, even without a concrete reason.

“Okay, everyone’s familiar with the rules, right?” Princess asked for clarification, at first burning the top card off the deck. “I’ll play dealer first round. That makes Seungcheol the small blind and Wonwoo the big blind. N'remember, you guys signed up for this, so if you can't afford to blow some money then you better be good.”

Everyone collectively agreed, and Princess began dealing the cards to all contenders until there was two before each person. Wonwoo wasn't exactly in the best position to be owing people cash, but he was a pretty solid player in his experience, though he was most comfortable going against Vernon and Seokmin. They had done a few poker nights at the random houses Vernon always claimed he was looking after for a friend. He had no idea what Seungcheol or Mingyu would be like as players. It did scare him a little.

Seungcheol made his move first—just a dollar, the equivalent of a single white-coloured chip. Wonwoo had to double the bet, so he moved out two white chips instead. Vernon decided to raise the amount to four chips, and Seokmin called the bet, matching it. Mingyu went next, his figure appearing foggy from across the table as the air became increasingly tinged with ruffles of smoke.

He called.

Seungcheol and Wonwoo both called at their turns, and thus, the first round of betting had ended. Everyone pushed forward their chips for Princess to collect, creating their small, measly looking pot.

Wonwoo kept the joint poised between his pointer and middle finger as he slyly gleaned the suit and ranks of his hand, keeping both cards flush against the table, just lifting their corners.

It didn’t seem like much and would probably result in little reward—an eight of clovers and a three of spades—but Wonwoo wasn’t looking to show out in the very first game, anyway.

He glanced toward the couch, where you were squished almost shoulder to shoulder against Clara and Bells. The bong was sat in your lap as you leaned down over the mouthpiece and sparked at the cannabis packed into the bowl. Bells curled at her long, black hair, heels dug into the edge of the coffee table, eyes glazed as pastries.

“I didn’t get anything from that,” she mumbled.

“That’s ‘cause you don’t know how to play,” Princess chuckled, again burning another card off the deck before setting down three more at the centre of the table, creating the flop.

Nine of diamonds, seven of hearts, and six of clovers.

Everyone took a minute to examine the flop, comparing it with the cards they had stowed close to their chests. Wonwoo, however, didn’t even bother comparing, as he already knew his move.

“Hm…” Seungcheol paused, rubbing at his chin and sucking in his bottom lip. “I think I’ll check.” He then leaned back, placing forth no bet at all, and instead looked to Wonwoo for his decision.

“Fold.”

“Ha!” Vernon practically choked beside him, the joint almost spat from his mouth, and Wonwoo felt the boy’s hand push in a teasing pressure at his shoulder. “You’re such a piece of shit, man.”

“Why is he a piece of shit?” Bells wondered.

“Just, uh—ah, never mind,” Vernon capitulated, still somewhat chuckling under his breath as Wonwoo smiled at him. “I’m gonna bet. I’ll put out some of these.” He slid out the required chips, forest-green in colour, each valued at twenty-five dollars.

Nibbling on his fingertip, Seokmin shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I’m folding.”

Princess smiled. “No, it’s okay! Mingyu next.”

“Hm, call,” he responded, matching Vernon's dare.

The attention returned to Seungcheol, who was rooted in his indecisiveness, pressed fingers masking half his face as he stared down at the three community cards, brow furrowed with thought.

Eventually, he shrugged. “Fuck it. I’m folding too.”

“Not feeling lucky, babe?” Princess grinned, collecting the bets placed by Vernon and Mingyu to the growing pot.

“I’m treading cautiously, let’s just say that.” He smirked.

After revealing the fourth community card, another round ensued between Vernon and Mingyu. Wonwoo relaxed back into his seat, an analyzing eye shifting from his tattooed, face-pierced friend to the stoic and collected Mingyu who was awaiting Vernon’s turn.

Wonwoo held his bottom lip between sharp teeth, then staring down at his lap in an attempt to smother that prying, wide smile, knowing the exact move his friend would make. It was Vernon, after all. And he always played big, even when he shouldn’t.

“Bet. Here you go.”

More of those green chips were moved out.

Mingyu huffed, tongue curling against his pronounced canine. “I don’t believe you, dude.”

Vernon cackled, propping up his knee and setting the heel of his sneaker onto the chair. He exhaled a smooth hit from his joint.

“Okay. Raise, then.”

Seungcheol chuckled, sharing a laugh with Seokmin who was sipping at a beer bottle from across the table.

“Fine—have it your way.”

"I’ll call.”

“Not feeling so confident, yeah?” Mingyu proceeded to laugh, eyeing Vernon closely with a testing, intrigued expression.

“I’ll let the showdown speak for itself,” Vernon pitted back.

Again, Princess collected their chips and rid the deck of its top card, and then placed down the fifth and final community card, establishing the river and the arrangement from which Vernon and Mingyu would need to create the most powerful hand. Each boy at last turned over their deck, and it was clear cut who was the winner.

“Mingyu’s got a full house,” Princess explained, standing up and leaning forward to swivel the card combination into place. “Take these three from the river, plus his nine of hearts and seven of clovers—that’s a three of a kind and a pair. Vernon can at most make a straight.” She then sat back down, pushing the entire pot to Mingyu.

“Did you win, baby?” After remaining silent for the entire game, you had finally perked up from the couch, admittedly buzzed.

Brushing back his hair, he smirked. “I won. Mr. Drug Dealer owes me about three-hundred dollars. But I guess you've just got that laying around somewhere? Stuffed up your pillow case?”

Vernon laughed, then took a deep, long drag from his joint. "If you're not sleepin' against a pillow case full of cash, I'm happy to officially give you the opportunity. Takes away all your stress."

“Congratulations,” you flashed a hazy smile at your boyfriend, courtesy of the smoke wafting through the air, like you were caught in a reverie, “I'm glad all those Sundays were well spent.”

“Okay, we’ll move down now,” Princess announced, reorganizing the cards into a deck. “Seungcheol’s the dealer, Wonwoo is the small blind, and Vernon’s the big blind this time.”

They continued to play until everyone at the table had a chance at being the blinds and the dealer. Wonwoo folded every round. He knew it might've been ignorant and distrustful, but to him, it was the perfect opportunity to see inside everyone's bag of tricks.

He’d developed a fairly foolproof inkling toward their tactics and gives. Seokmin was by far the easiest player to make fold, though Wonwoo was already well aware—he would only hold his ground if there was confidence in his hand, but even then, anyone else calling Seokmin’s bet always engendered him to squirm. And while Vernon was still a more seasoned player by comparison, his brashness and tentative nature toward folding was often his downfall.

Seungcheol and Princess were a bit harder to read.

They were alike in their more cautious, calculating style of play, and Princess clearly had experience with orchestrating poker matches. Seungcheol, however, would routinely make the same mistake that Wonwoo had noticed straight away—touching or covering his face. When he was most confident, his fingers would sit more around his chin, or jaw, and when he was dealt a shitty hand with little to no promise of creating something notable from the community cards, those fingers etched further toward his lips.

You had still refused to join the match when offered by Princess, though you were paying greater attention to the game—even stopping by to hover with interest at Mingyu’s shoulder.

Princess was back to being the dealer.

Seungcheol was again the small blind. “I’ll put up twenty.”

Wonwoo grabbed two stacks of his chips and slid them outward to double the boy’s forced bet. “Forty.”

Everyone called.

Since the pot had gone unraised, Wonwoo decided to push forth more of his chips, adding on another twenty in small stacks. “Raise.”

The eagerness to increase the bet had drained. Again, all parties at the table simply called, and Wonwoo was feeling quite confident.

“Flop time,” Princess said with a smile, neatly setting out three cards at the table’s centre for everyone to glean.

Seungcheol checked. So did Wonwoo.

“Raise.” Vernon was persistent in his choice.

Everyone matched the increased bet, now sitting at eighty chips, until it fell upon Wonwoo’s turn. Expectant eyes were drilling holes into him like he was plywood at a construction site. Under normal circumstances, Wonwoo would abhor it more than anything else, but he was otherwise relaxed and in tune with his decisions as the joint smoke warmly fluttered around him. Coughing out a tickle from his throat, he grabbed another stack of his chips.

“It’s at eighty, so I’ll push to a hundred.”

“Cunt,” Vernon coughed, though he matched the raise without so much as a leg shake or a bite at his glinting lip ring.

“Fold,” Seokmin sighed, forfeiting his hand to Princess.

Wonwoo looked across the table, watching your fingertips squeeze into Mingyu’s thick shoulders as he pondered his choice.

“Call.” He eventually decided with a shrug.

Seungcheol agreed.

By the fifth community card, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Seungcheol, and Vernon were still engaged in the match. From his analysis, Wonwoo was sure he would take the pot. Seungcheol was rubbing just below his lip using a slow thumb—there was uncertainty and doubt in the gesture. Vernon’s willingness to raise was merely intended to pressure out the others, but it hadn’t worked, and his quietness suggested there might be regret, and still, confidence, that he could somehow get away with it. Finally, Wonwoo saw Mingyu.

He'd played a handful of poker—specifically Texas Hold’em—with Mingyu when they had taken that probability elective last year.

The thing was, Mingyu had this gold-plated guise of believing his casual, unbothered demeanour couldn’t be disrupted under any circumstance—that no one would catch that transient slip of credence in those molten brown eyes or note the way he cracked the wood in the chair from fidgeting when the silence was too heavy and all-encompassing. But Wonwoo would notice. He could see it clearer than glass. The more Mingyu disguised it, the easier it poured out.

“Alright, showdown. Let’s see your hands.”

Everyone flipped their cards.

A moment of silence ensued, and then—

“Fuck you, Wonwoo,” Vernon grunted, jabbing his side.

Both him and Seungcheol could make a straight flush, but since the rank of Wonwoo’s cards were higher, he took the win.

Not to mention the rather large, admirable pot. He was pretty pleased to see those colourful bills being forked out from the losers' wallets. It truly did pay off to play with rich people, and Mingyu and Seungcheol's pockets seemed endless.

By Wonwoo's third joint of the night, he’d won more rounds than anyone sitting at the table. Vernon had cursed at him a fair amount, Seokmin hardly wanted to play anymore amongst the serious tycoons that surrounded him, and wallets were running drier than any desert. The effects of all that smoke wafting through the air and meddling with his senses was starting to take effect.

He could potentially last another round before his most concrete thinking would get whittled down to thoughtless guesses.

Before the final round had started, Wonwoo glanced down at his phone to check the time. Holy shit—one in the morning. He’d been at the party for almost three fucking hours and he was miraculously still functioning and somehow not crawling with the desperation to leave. You were seated back at the couch, head leaning on Clara’s shoulder as you waited, misty-eyed, for the final game to start. Wonwoo decided to text you even though you were sitting no less than five feet away.

[ Wonwoo | 1:02 am ]: Play the final round.

He watched as you picked up the phone from your lap to read the text message, and then, you were squinting at him in judgement.

[ Her | 1:02 am ]: um no

His thumbs fired back a response.

[ Wonwoo | 1:02 am ]: Why?

[ Her | 1:02 am ]: bc I don’t want to

[ Wonwoo | 1:03 am ]: You don’t know how to play?

[ Her | 1:03 am ]: ik how to play

[ Wonwoo | 1:03 am ]: So play.

[ Wonwoo | 1:03 am ]: Take Seokmin’s place.

[ Wonwoo | 1:03 am ]: Please? Should I beg for it?

Your scoff could be heard from the couch, and Wonwoo had to remind himself to steam out the smile twitching on his lips.

[ Her | 1:04 am ]: is it really that important to u?

[ Wonwoo | 1:04 am ]: Yes.

[ Her | 1:04 am ]: fine

[ Her | 1:04 am ]: just don’t come crying to me when u lose

Feeling especially triumphant that he was able to convince you, Wonwoo observed with a pleased smirk your quest to Seokmin’s place at the table, where you tapped his shoulder and told him to take five. The boy didn’t need to be told twice, allowing you his seat almost gratefully.

“Awe, you’re not gonna stay for the finale?” Princess asked in a crooning voice while shuffling the card deck between her hands.

Seokmin grabbed his skinny bottle of beer off the table and shook his head, his face glowing and his eyes beginning to hood.

“I’ve learned my lesson about this game: I’m not good at it, I don’t have the money, and that I should never play with Wonwoo.”

“Or me?” Vernon gestured, turning out a palm expectantly.

“Uh, right. And Vernon.”

Picking a fluff from Seokmin’s shirt and flicking it into the air, you merely shrugged, flashing him a comforting smile.

“Y’know, it’s a good thing you suck,” you said, then leaning back in the chair and folding your arms. “It means you’re a bad liar.”

“Nice to play with you, alright?” Seungcheol added, grabbing onto the boy’s hand and giving it a firm clasp as he walked by.

“Thanks. I think I’ll go back downstairs and see if I can find more people I know. Enjoy the game, guys! Tell me who wins!”

“Probably me,” you answered, waving him goodbye.

“Hm, I didn’t think you’d play at all,” Mingyu remarked while Princess began sorting out cards to everyone, and Wonwoo noted the boy's leg jostling underneath the table. “Feeling confident, are you?”

Poking out your tongue playfully at Mingyu, you smiled. “Yes. Don’t even think about trying to riddle me. I’ll see right through it.”

The game started out as usual. Seungcheol and Wonwoo offered the blind bets, and everyone at the table called. No one seemed keen to fold, even when Princess revealed the flop and his heart smacked in another resounding thump. An eight of spades, a king of spades, and an eight of clovers. Wonwoo then slipped his gaze around the table, particularly studying you, who hadn’t stopped grinning since the game started. Of course you would be grinning. There was nothing very coy or subtle about you upon any first glance.

Wonwoo discreetly lifted the corners to his playing cards. He caught the wind in his chest. There was an ace of spades, his very first all night, paired with a nine of spades. It took all his self-control to remain muted on the outside and let his joint continue burning.

At the fourth community card, the pressure was starting to seep through, and the intimidating, stacked size of the pot collected before Princess was only making the fold especially tempting.

Every time it seemed like a call was in order, someone would raise, and the bets kept climbing until the glass ceiling was at last hit.

Seungcheol brushed antsy hands down the back of his head, scattering his hair and puffing out his chest in a large, accepting sigh.

“I’ve gotta fold. There’s no way.”

Balancing a joint at the corner of his mouth, Wonwoo grabbed another stack from his chips and slid it outward, knowing there was little to no chance he would lose the round.

“Raise,” he announced, exhaling a deep breath.

“Oh my God,” Vernon mumbled into his palm, taking a moment to tap his fingers against the wood, “… I have to fold. Yeah, I’ve gotta. A smart man like myself knows when to quit. You got me. Fucker.”

Unphased by the hopeless, daunting feeling that swelled around the table, you merely crossed a leg and dared to not only match, but raise the amount of chips that Wonwoo had audaciously put forth. Mingyu was slumped in his chair with a musing expression, eyes stung red and the thick fronds of his hair messily strewn about from how often his fingers dug through them. He eventually cleared his throat from the hot prickle and shook his head in conviction.

“No, you’re lying. I don’t believe it.”

But you just smirked and fluttered your lashes.

“What’s your move then, babe?”

“I’ll check.” Mingyu shrugged, agitated by his own response.

And to that, Wonwoo poured more gasoline on the fire.

“Raise.”

“There is no fuckin’ way your cards are that good,” Vernon grumbled between half-sealed lips, attempting to hold the joint still with his mouth while he sparked the end using his lighter.

“I’m raising your raise,” you challenged, “one-hundred.”

As his hand fell onto the table with a loud rattle, Vernon started to cackle. “There’s no way your cards are that good, either.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You lilted.

“Mingyu?” Seungcheol hummed to get the boy’s attention. “It’s your move, man. What’re you gonna do?”

Wonwoo could see it scribbled all over Mingyu’s face. He didn’t want to get caught in the intense bidding flare between you, because he obviously knew his cards weren’t high enough rank to claim the pot at showdown. Wonwoo wasn’t planning to fold because the community cards were aligned in his favour. That steely, brash façade of the golden boy across from him was wearing increasingly thinner and Mingyu had seemed to realize it himself. After an almost agonizing silence, he pushed his cards away from him, forfeiting.

“Yeah, I can’t do it. Fuck you guys.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, sweetheart. That’s too bad, ” you giggled, leaning over to sling an arm around his shoulders and stipple his cheek in small kisses that Mingyu wriggled from.

“Alright, just fuckin’ get to the showdown already,” he tutted.

Wonwoo couldn’t have been happier that Mingyu removed himself from the game. It was solely between him and you, now.

“You raised to one-hundred?” He asked for clarification.

Nodding your head, you agreed. “Yes. One-hundred.”

The thing was, Wonwoo knew he was going to win. Even without Princess revealing the final community card, there was an opportunity for him to make a straight flush. Unless an unprecedented stroke of luck had fallen into your own hand and you could somehow make a royal flush, the game was already decided.

Unless Wonwoo folded.

“I’ll raise,” he answered, wanting to test your limits.

“Jesus, this is gonna take all fuckin’ night, isn’t it?” Vernon proceeded to groan while exercising his stiff shoulder.

You smiled, and a glint illuminated in your eyes like a fallen star the size of a perfect sand grain.

 “Should I make it more interesting?”

Uncrossing your leg, you sat up straight, pressing tight against the table as you braced an arm behind your remaining chips and shoved them forward slowly, right into the table’s centre. Everyone began to mumble excitedly at the brazen act, though Wonwoo could only focus on you and that mischievous but beautiful curve to your lips, ignoring everything else in the room.

“All in.”

He felt a fist lightly strike his chest.

“Glasses! You’ve gotta match that!”

Seungcheol was rubbing along his chin, grinning.

“That’s gonna make a huge pot… lotta money…”

“He’s been making moves all game,” Princess laughed. “Not that I’m pressuring you, Wonwoo. I mean, it’s your call.”

Mingyu shook his head. “She’s so bluffing.”

“Hush up so he can think!” Vernon cackled.

There was so much sound and noise and voices. But, through the cacophony and haze of all those distractions, Wonwoo could see into you so clearly it was like you had become magically transparent. In turn, you were staring at him, awaiting his response, and he felt those sharp eyes shearing at his fabricated thoughts, picking them all apart into little corners and strips and threads. It was impossibly subtle, and only Wonwoo caught it—your head just beginning to shake in disagreement.

However, Wonwoo had already made his decision.

“I’m folding.”

Vernon’s fists struck down on the table like a thunderous clap, and the tension nailed into the atmosphere suddenly burst.

Before Wonwoo could even make sense of the exploding conversation, his cards were pulled away from him by Princess. She flipped over both yours and his hand.

“Wonwoo, you stupid fuck!” Vernon practically leapt from his chair, wriggling at the boy’s shoulder. “That’s a straight fl—oh my god! I’m actually so—you could have easily won that!”

“Okay, okay. She’s got a straight flush, too!” Princess called, pointing down at your cards. “But Wonwoo’s rank is higher.”

“Doesn’t matter, anyway,” Mingyu said, pushing back in his chair and stretching out his muscular arms. “He folded. Her wins.”

Seungcheol sifted through the colourful chips.

“Looks like he owes you about five-hundred bucks.”

Continuing to smile at you, Wonwoo picked the joint back between his lips, borrowing Vernon’s lighter to fizzle the end and keep the paper burning. Your arms were crossed, hardly pleased.

“Looks like I do.” Wonwoo accepted through a wispy exhale of smoke, rolling out his shoulders and further quirking his lips.

After the final poker match, everyone decided to disseminate and take about half an hour to excuse themselves. Mingyu went back downstairs with Seungcheol so they could keep an eye on the general rowdiness, making sure people hadn’t started rioting or smashing vases, swinging from chandeliers and drinking questionable concoctions out of high-heeled boots.

Vernon wandered off in search for a washroom since Princess had occupied the nearest one down the staircase, at first helping nurse Clara through her incoming bout of alcohol sickness, with Bells joining them a few minutes afterward when that last sip decided to lurch back up her throat.

Only you and Wonwoo remained in the attic.

He was sat widespread at the sofa, slumped down, eyes closed, attempting to appreciate the high that could be attributed to the third joint he was now halfway through smoking. But then he felt the cushion beside him dip, and there was a pinch sinking rather harshly into the flesh on his hand that made his eyes fling back open.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Wonwoo moaned, rubbing over the small, crescent shaped branding dug by your fingernail.

Settling down notably close to Wonwoo, your knee prodded into his thigh while your one leg folded over the other. That scowl had yet to be ironed out from your countenance, and he could only suspect you were about to come down hard in regards to his stunt.

“Boo hoo. You’re such a lying liar who lies.”

Wonwoo stretched out a hand to his face, massaging slow against his temples while he sighed, “lying’s part of the game...”

“No—” the retort shot out with an electrifying quickness, “—not your type of lying. Your double-crossed lying. You’re a fraud.”

“A fraud?” He echoed, letting the hand fall into his lap. “Okay, that’s a bit accusatory. I wouldn’t call what I did fraudulent.”

Shifting his elbow off the arm of the couch, the joint was poised back at his lips, and Wonwoo couldn’t help but chuckle at your glaring, stiff face. He swiftly blew out his hit, smirking hard.

“I hate you for what you did. I mean, you should have gone all in and matched me. But, no! You took the wuss route and made me look stupid! It taints everything. And you better wipe away that jovial curl in your lip before I sock it off your face and steal your cig.”

Wonwoo tilted his head at you, perking an eyebrow.

“How’d you know my cards were better?”

At first, the question visibly stumped you. There was a lag in your response—an open mouth but not a single word to follow.

Then, it seemed as though you breathed out all your rage.

“Don’t ask such a dumb question,” sounded your calm sigh, with a leg bobbing up and down, “you made it so obvious.”

“I did? Hm.”

“Yeah…I know your tactic. You make everyone feel and nice and comfortable playing with you. Then, you totally flip the script and pull out the rug.” Your shoulder was digging into his and you two were now squished together so closely that he could feel your radiating warmth and smell the fragrance in your hair. “For someone who’s so damn quiet, your eyes are like a book. They just swim and trash with everything you’re thinking. So, don’t think you’re all that.”

Wonwoo switched the joint to his other hand, instead leaning against his fist and peering aside at you who seemed so certain of everything. Admittedly, he’d never heard that before, and if he weren’t beyond drowned in the watery red glowing behind his hooded gaze, your spiel would have downright terrified him.

It wasn’t that you just knew Wonwoo, it was that you were beginning to understand him and the way his mind operated.

No—if he were sober, that thought would obliterate him.

He shrugged. “I don’t think I’m all that.”

“Blah, blah. Y’know, the one thing about you that bothers me—you’re actually not a loser. People like you Wonwoo. People are impressed by you. They want to know you. And you just keep them at bay with your stinging hot fireplace poker, jabbing at them in case they get too close. I see it. And—I don’t know, maybe you’re right to keep all those people out. Maybe it gives you more control.”

Wonwoo dragged a hand along his face, laughing. “I think I’m a little too high to be having that conversation with you.”

“No, you’re not. You just don’t want to talk about it as usual. I don't suppose you've got five-hundred big ones in your wallet, do you?”

He shot you an obvious glance while chuckling, "absolutely fucking not. But sit tight, though. I can get it to you somehow."

Your head shook. "I don't care about the money."

He stared down at the joint aglow in his hand.

And then he was holding it out in front of you.

“Hit?”

You hesitated, but ultimately grabbed it, positioning the joint between your index and middle finger akin to a cigarette. Wonwoo watched intently at the soft inhale you breathed in, and the gradual relaxing of your chest as the smoke was gently puffed outward.

“Not so tough, is it?” He hummed in his deep, velvet-smooth voice, to which you squinted at him and scrunched your nose.

“I just studied how you did it, that’s all.”

Your knee was now pressed atop his lap. Wonwoo felt that momentary, passionate itch to settle his palm flat against your warm skin—ignore all boundaries that existed between you as well as their scalding consequences just for the sake of sweetly touching you, the one visible hope in his life. Still, Wonwoo was too afraid. As much as he wanted all your light and love to himself, it could never be true.

“We’re doing lines next,” you said, “… are you gonna do it?”

“Oh, no.” Wonwoo shook his head. “I tried it once and it went fucking terribly. I’m not gonna bother messing with it again.”

You looked relieved.

“That’s good. It’s so weird for me. Like, when it first enters my system, everything feels strange and I get this spinning, nauseating sensation. But it always passes. And then I let everything go.”

Wonwoo quirked at you a barely-there smile.

“I know it’s obvious—just be careful, alright?”

You puffed out another hit.

“I will.”

It was a bit strange—to just stand there, off to the side, as an observer of someone who was lining up a perfect streak of white powder using their credit card. And yet, that’s what Wonwoo had found himself doing, staring without much shame as you, Mingyu, Vernon, and Seungcheol began pressing shut one nostril and inhaling the cocaine through the other. Wonwoo never bothered to ask Vernon how he acquired the coke, or what he paid for it, or how he even knew someone that could baggie it up for him so nicely—Wonwoo didn’t ask anything of the sort because he’d rather avoid prison.

Though, that might be inevitable in the bigger picture. His closest friend was a drug dealer. By nature, he was already associated.

Princess had walked over to him, dropping off some bottled water from the fridge that he immediately uncapped and gulped down. It seemed his efforts to mend that broken circadian rhythm of his had done some actual good, because Wonwoo was feeling the tire spread over his eyes and the energy deplete from his body like an inflatable with an air leak. You had snorted the coke almost a little too naturally. He remembered an old conversation with Vernon—she takes that shit like it’s pixie dust—and he supposed it made sense.

He helped Princess shove the window open again to let some freshness back into the warm attic space. She spent a moment or so staring down at the driveway, watching the people come and go.

“How are Bells and Clara?” Wonwoo asked.

She glanced at him, though her brown eyes eventually wandered back to the ongoing buzz outside and below.

“Clara is totalled,” Princess sighed. “She’s lying down in one of the spare bedrooms. A friend is looking after her. Bells on the other hand...” she glimpsed over her shoulder, scanning the room, “I’m not sure where she went. I thought she came back upstairs, but it’s likely she wandered down to the living room. That girl is all gas, no breaks. Throws up one second, back to sloshing the next.”

Wonwoo swallowed more of his cold water.

“I take it Seungcheol owes you a dinner?”

“Ha—yeah, he owes it to me big time,” she muttered, at last turning her back to the breeze. “Good thing I didn’t let him drink that fucking whiskey. Holy shit. It would be worse than Clara.”

“Hm…” Wonwoo hummed, suddenly wondering aloud as he watched you cough into your fist at the table while Mingyu rubbed his nose and patted your cheek. “He doesn’t do it all the time, though?”

Princess folded her arms and smiled.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She?”

“Her.”

“Oh. I was asking—”

“I know what you were asking. You don’t have to hide it.”

Wonwoo thought about further countering Princess’ assumption, but the way she was watching him—head knowingly tilted with that smitten crook so rightfully framed on her glossed, shiny lips—he knew it would be futile to even try. He felt relief at the confirmation, too. As long as you were careful. Really fucking careful.

“Sorry,” he answered, shrugging.

“Nah, apology not needed.” Princess shook her head.

The girl proceeded to look down at her feet, remaining silent and pensive—toying with the idea of saying something important but ultimately weighing its consequence before involving Wonwoo.

He was sipping from his water again when Princess at last cleared her throat, then holding the swig between his cheeks.

“Um, I don’t know, exactly, what it is you and Her talk about, or what you write about, or what you two do, ever. Just, uh, whatever it is—and maybe it’s best I don’t know—she’s really… happy. Not that she wasn’t happy before. But… it’s different, y’know? The energy is different. And I see this really, really beautiful light in her that I’ve never seen before. So, yeah. I’m glad you two are friends. And that you listen to her and stick by her and help her with this new craft even when she’s not the most cooperative, or… well… y’know… it’s Her after all. You don’t really know which version you’ll get.”

Wonwoo still hadn’t swallowed. The water was becoming uncomfortably lukewarm in his mouth but he held it there.

Princess dusted off her shirt, smiling again. “Anyway, I’ll go check on Seungcheol. Probably try to find Bells. Ah, later.”

Only when the girl had left him alone at the windowsill did he finally choke down that large sip, bracing through it as though he’d just downed some especially bitter cough syrup. His mind was replaying pieces of Princess’ speech in addition to that appreciative, even admirable look she had been giving him. He didn’t know what to take from it. He didn’t even know what he was feeling. All his emotions were cooking in one big heap at the pit of his gut like a disproportioned stew. Wonwoo rubbed a hand along his face in partial confusion and agony, hearing a giggle from you somewhere across the room, as he attempted to sort everything out.

Wanting to move somewhere a bit quieter, Wonwoo thought he might try his luck with the rooms down the staircase, and hopefully not waltz into anything he so clearly shouldn’t have. Yet, just as his hand ghosted along the wood railing, Wonwoo was suddenly colliding with someone and the rapidly permeating, muddled scent of daisies, cannabis, and fireball was filling his nose.

His water bottle dropped to the floor and rolled to the base of the stairs. Fingers scraped deep into his shirt. He grabbed onto the person’s waist with instinct, helping to steady them.

“Fuck—holy shit. Thanks, Wonwoo.”

But then the realization had metaphorically slapped him.

“My bad. Sorry.”

It was Bells who’d been stumbling up the stairs and plowed straight into his chest. She didn’t seem the most present, either.

“No, no, no. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

The last thing he wanted on planet Earth was to get sucked into a conversation with her—not that he had any sort of grudge or concrete reason to dislike the girl—but his head was starting to ache and he craved peace and quiet for just five fucking minutes.

Her fingers were still wound into his shirt, almost holding him there, against the banister of the stairs, and Wonwoo couldn’t help but stare straight into her intensely dilated eyes that studied him like a shark.

“Uh, all good...”

Wonwoo honestly wanted to grab the girl by her shoulders and physically set her aside. At the same time, he didn’t think it was the best protocol to act so uncouth with one of your close friends.

“Oh, sorry!” It seemed to dawn on her that she was pinning him against the handrailing. “I just didn’t want to fall.”

She at last loosened her fingers, though Wonwoo noted how she somewhat dragged her hands along his chest in the process of doing so, like that girl had done earlier to Vernon. It was unnecessary, but she was drunk, and Wonwoo thought he could end the conversation quicker if he remained pleasant. Stood at the top of the stairs, Wonwoo smiled at her, knowing how exhausted he was inside.

“I hope you’re feeling okay.”

Bells smiled, swaying her shoulders, “I’ve never felt better.”

“… Are you… sure about that?”

“Mmhm.”

“Do you need water or anything?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Uh, alright, cool. Well, I’m gonna go—”

“Wonwoo, wait.” She latched onto his arm, fast and sharp.

He paused, not so much because of her grip but mostly from shock, as she had suddenly moved in closer and he could now feel her strength squeezing against his bicep. She batted her eyelashes up at him demurely, and there was nothing he stomached but discomfort.

“What are you doing after this?” The girl hummed, lowering her voice and intentionally smoothing it to add a sultry effect.

Dry swallowing, he debated whether or not he should even respond and instead simply peel her unwanted hand off his arm.

“… Going to bed?” He croaked, shifting in his place.

“Would you want to do something with me?” She bit her lip. “My apartment’s in South Elm. Have you ever been there?”

“It’s not a good idea.” Wonwoo was losing his patience.

“Awe, not a good idea? Why’s that?” She giggled, slowly massaging her hand down the length of his bicep and nibbling on her inner cheek. “We can do anything you want at my place… I live alone… so, I’m up for it. Anything at all.”

“Okay, uh, look. I don’t want to be—”

All of a sudden, Bells was ripped from Wonwoo like a sticky bandage, and while he was more than confused at the situation, he was nonetheless relieved. He assumed it was Princess who’d done the deed, and thus Wonwoo was very surprised to learn that it had been you—you, who did not appear happy in the slightest, and his relief was starting to transform into thick concern because it seemed as though you were going to ricochet Bells head off the banister.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You shouted, shoving a belittling hand against Bells' shoulder and tugging her away. “Why are you fucking cornering him like that?!”

“Uh—what? Cornering him? Her, I’m so confused.”

“Confused? About what, Bells? You’re fucking harassing him! Like, why are you in his face and putting your hands on him?!”

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s your fucking problem? I wasn’t in his face; I’m talking to him. Just talking. You’re jumped up again.”

“Jumped up?! You're one to talk!”

Wonwoo at first tried to intervene, mostly out of serious worry for Bells safety, because you were steaming. However, every time he attempted to speak up, his words would drown out in the echo of your squabbling. It didn’t help that you two were both mentally degraded in your own right—all that anger was shooting straight from your chest to your mouth with no thought involved.

“Just leave him alone!” You jabbed a finger at her chest.

Bells slapped your hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

“Oh, why? Does it make you uncomfortable, having someone in your fucking face, touching you without permission? Does that make you upset, Bells? Hm, wow. So funny you would say that.”

Wonwoo settled a hand at your shoulder, tugging at you once, then twice, wanting to pull you back without being too forceful.

“It’s okay,” he assured, though his heart was pounding and he wished someone else would help or even take note of what was happening, “it’s not a big deal, alright? Nothing worth all this.”

Again, he was completely ignored.

“So, that’s it?” Bells laughed, throwing up her arms. “Only you can talk to him, and look at him, and breathe around him? That’s all you? No one else is allowed to like, have a conversation with him?!”

“You don’t want to have a conversation with him!” Your fists balled up tight as you screamed at her. “You want him to fuck you!”

“Okay, okay—!” Wonwoo jolted with panic when you pushed the drunken girl, immediately coiling his arms around your waist and lurching you backward before a flailing hand could strike Bells’ face.

Bells stumbled for no less than second until she regained her balance and looked to you with the most seething, nettled eyes.

The situation seemed on the precipice of exploding beyond control, with you wriggling and thrashing against his arms, employing a strength he couldn’t have expected amidst your sluggish state. You were shouting at him to stop intervening, though, he knew letting go meant you would most likely beat the girl’s breaks off.

Thankfully, at the nick of time, Mingyu had sprinted across the room, catching Bells' arm just before it lashed out in a strike.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Mingyu grunted while wrestling the smaller, feisty girl away despite all her manic squirming.

Wonwoo almost got nipped by the unbridled swinging of your elbow as he gritted through his teeth, “I wish I knew.”

He did know. However, it wasn’t the time to discuss it.

“Fuck! Just take Her downstairs!” The boy shouted.

Jesus Christ—that was easier said than done. Trying to haul you backward down a staircase as you twisted, kicked, and screamed a very colourful litany of profanities at your friend was the exact nightmare it sounded like. Vernon’s head had suddenly popped over the banister, staring down at you and Wonwoo, his eyes blown wide with pure befuddlement, as though he wasn’t sure if it was real life or a narcotic delusion. Princess had gone to help Mingyu calm down Bells. Seungcheol had joined the commotion, too, though he didn’t come across the most intelligible. His mind was all fog.  

And yet, somehow, Wonwoo managed to ply you away from the stairs and into the corridor with hardly a breath to spare.

—END OF PART III.

[antimony-medusa]

*I emerge from several weeks of talking about conceptualizing my cubitos and who else populates their world and what the precise nature of the character is* Hello. Hi. It's time for my twice-yearly thoughts on RPF.

Okay so I was one of the people who was emailing Ao3 about it when we had all of MCYT wrangled into VBRPF going please please please please can we have our own server tags pleeeeeeease I promise it's not just video blogging rpf pleeeeeeease my streamer doesn't have wings in real life pleasssssseeee— and my general stance is that writing about Dream SMP characters is writing about characters, it's not RPF.

Not quite. It's not quite RPF. There is a meaningful distinction there, but it's not a really huge one. That distinction exists and is important to me in how I conceptualize those characters and whether I'm mentally going "okay I need to study lore streams for vocal patterns" for voice research or if I'm going "okay I need to pull up technocord logs " to get techno voice right. What I consider the authoritative canon "character" is a rp guy who spawns withers, not a real streamer in california with a little white dog.

But like I do multifandom exchanges and I wander into them with my cubitos clutched tight in my palms, and I see what other fandoms look like— and importantly, I see what other rpf fandoms look like— and guys, I think that line is legitimately blurry and I think that's literally fine. If I walk into a mulltfandom space with my guys they're going to squint at me and go "rpf fandom— kinda, I think" and I can go "hahaha, not quite", but also I do not blame other people for thinking this is RPF cause like— there are a lot of similarities!

What MCYT tends to classify as "RPF" is directly stories operating in a world where the characters are streamers, they post on twitter, they have lunch with the CEO of twitch. And anyone not writing that, is obviously not writing RPF. And that is not untrue, up to a point, but there is a broad category of fics that tend WAY harder into the pure fictional that are still considered RPF fandoms, if you actually check what other RPF fandoms are doing. There are 599 works in "Demon Shane Madej", many of which are in AUs that have no connection to the real world other than the character relationships, and they're still officially considered RPF.

I have a friend who's in a c-drama rpf fandom that has a rpf ship they really like, and a really popular thing is to take the various characters these actors have played (totally fictional characters from various media) and ship them together. And that's just a crossover of two fictional mediums, but because the thread connecting them is two guys in real life, that's considered RPF.

The banddom tags are absolutely COMPLETELY full of aus that are not set in the real world at all, no connection to the music industry, and what the people in those fandoms will say is like yeah, I have no idea about the real guy, I'm working with a character/persona who's put on for the stage and interviews and personas, and that guy is not REAL, who knows what the real guy is like, but like, I like the persona, I deal with the persona, and then they put that persona in an au where he kisses other personas— and this gets considered RPF.

Wrestler RPF is directly dealing with invented characters who are beating the bloody snot out of each other (hot), they have names like "the undertaker", dealing with scripted storylines, but it still get considered RPF.

And like, I look at myself as I am entering my third year of writing Technoblade most of the time, and what I'm doing here and— there are a lot of similarities in what I'm doing to what other RPF fandoms are doing. I'm a fan of the DSMP character but I'm also a fan of the guy, so I want to play in this extended universe, so I want to include nods to his other stuff. So I will pepper in a cheeky nod to the potato war here, I'll mention hypixel there, etc, kind of make an extended Technoblade universe. And I think that's not RPF (quite) because I'm working from a fictional canon that includes references to the potato war and hypixel etc, I'm just expanding on it, but like, this is literally what my friend in c-drama rpf does as well when she's writing aus about her guy. It's kind of close to RPF. That line is not really obvious to the casual viewer.

So I do not blame anyone else if they look at what we're doing and they go ah, nods wisely, you are a rpf fandom, I've seen this before, and we go um actually, hahah, you'd think that, but no, and then they nod and clearly do not understand how it's not a RPF fandom.

But the thing is it's literally fine if people think that, I think. RPF is not the end of the world. It's just a bunch of people working with people's various performancesonas and worksonas and having fun with it. Spoilers for mythbusters in the real world, but we now know that by the end of mythbusters adam and jamie were not really friends, but most of the mythbusters rpf keeps them as friends because that was the professional persona they provided for the camera, and that was the fictional world the writers wanted to live in. I don't think it's a problem if someone wants to write straight up streamer fic, you do you, and that's unequivocally RPF, but once you start getting into AUs and extended universes and bringing emduo content into qsmp and writing fic based on GIGS streams, the line legitimately gets WAY more blurry.

I think a bunch of fic (including my fic) can start to exist in a "both things are true" state where it's drawing from direct fiction but it's also drawing from a lot of stuff that other fandoms would consider RPF sources, and like, I don't mind this. I don't think it's bad if you're doing this too. We're not getting more DSMP content, the fandom police are not gonna turn up at your house if you want to pull strongly from minecraft monday for your fic. Do schlackity on QSMP. Do a DSMP extended future where tommy gets tubbo to marry him for a bit and then tubbo immediately demands a divorce. The canon of material we have to draw on is not something where big obvious lines exist between "rpf content" and "pure fiction" if you step at ALL outside of canon-compliant. Like fuck, in my very first DSMP longfic I included all these hermit cameos and mcc references which would make it RPF in any other canon, but also I was pulling mainly from the prison arc lore and beats and relationships for the core, which is NOT rpf, and at this point it is not worth the hassle in my head to draw a strong distinction between them.

It's kinda RPF. It's not quite RPF. It's fictional. It's based in the real world. It's all personas. it's drawing on off-lore-stream dynamics. It's drawing on scripted scenes where my streamer had his camera in lore mode. It's COMPLICATED to unpick and I legitimately think that's fine. RPF is literally fine, some people are gonna think we're writing RPF, it's not the end of the world. Just have fun with it.

[sl-vega]

Hi there! Recently stumbled upon your Hiori piece (I Don’t Know Much, But I Know I Want You) and Oh. My. Gosh. It’s amazing!! The story was so cute and I also love the little Karasu interactions you threw in; it matches their characters so well and it’s so well written! If you ever feel motivated or inspired to do so, I’d love to see where you’d take the piece in a part 2! No pressure of course, I just think that seeing how they’d interact in your writing would be really awesome. Currently on my way to binge read every other work of yours; I love your writing style o7

Thanks for reading my ask and have a lovely day!! :)

˚୨୧⋆｡ MALL MEET CUTES

part one // part two

pairing: Hiori Yo x [FEM!] Reader

genre: fluff, oneshot, classmates to lovers, friends to lovers (?), pre-bluelock au/canon compliant

synopsis: hiori is still pretty damn smitten when it comes to you, so like the lovesick fool he his, he decides to drag karasu to the mall with him to help him find a gift to impress you, of course, in a strange turn of events it turns out you're at the mall too, so whatever shall our poor loverboy do when he sees you? (or in which hiori "soccer genius" yo, is dumb enough to ask karasu of all people for girl advice, and karasu like the wonderful friend he is, tags along for the drama)

CW/additional tags: mild language, potentially ooc, i actually did research on a mall in kyoto so look at me go, might make a part three if i really feel like it

author's note: AKJFJFHAFHKJ TYYY ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET, i'm so glad you liked the first part and all of hiori + karasu's interactions, it really means a lot to me that you thought i did them justice <3

"Would getting her makeup be a good idea?"

Hiori asked his senior as he stood outside of COLOUR STUDIO, it was a cosmetics store that he heard the girls in his class talk about occasionally , you among them.

"Or would that be too intimate? Do ya' think she'd think I'm trying too hard? Maybe we should've just stuck to stationery...."

Hiori bombarded Karasu with questions as he sighed and stared up at the daunting illuminated white sign of the shop.

His friend groaned and grabbed the sleeve of Hiori's light blue sweat shirt, dragging him into the store where a few employees and clerks gave them slightly concerned looks.

"No, we're here now so we may as well get something."

Karasu chastised his younger teammate as he escorted him into the lip product aisle, in which Hiori found himself surrounded by many unfamiliar brands with colourful packaging.

"Ya' sure know yer' way around Karasu, have ya' been here before?"

"I've been to their branch over in Osaka, my sister makes me get 'er shit whenever she runs out..."

Karasu plucked a small box from the middle of the shelf, making a point to read the label and the brand to make sure it was the one he needed.

"So what are you gonna get yer' special girl?"

He asked teasingly, as his slender fingers clutched around the small container he was holding.

"I dunno actually...I was hoping you might help me?"

Hiori replied, chuckling nervously. He already knew that Karasu had an older sister, so must have some knowledge on these kinds of things.

His teammate seemed to deadpan at his friend's request, feigning a hurt expression at his friend's question.

"So I'm just a personal shopping assistant to ya'? I'm hurt Hiori."

Karasu gave him a playful pout before breaking into a mild fit of laughter after Hiori swatted his shoulder. The older boy promptly turned to one of the shelves and tossed Hiori a small pink tube of lip gloss.

"Get 'er this one, the quality is pretty good and it has a reasonable price."

Karasu said nonchalantly as his back was still turned, still browsing through some of the shelves. Hiori looked down at the product tube and read out the label to himself.

"Canmake Candy Wrap Lip..."

He muttered as he rotated the slender cylinder in his hand, reading the adhesive tag on it, he realized that Karasu was right, the price was within his budget, and the packaging was rather cute, not to mention how the tube itself contained a good amount of product.

He was about to thank his friend before realizing that Karasu was back at the front counter of the store, probably asking one of the employees for help with finding something.

Observing his surroundings, Hiori thought that browsing the shop a little bit more couldn't hurt, he still had plenty of funds to spare, more than enough to buy you something else.

Hiori continued to browse the current aisle he was in, allowing his fingers to brush against the array of cosmetics, all neatly sorted and arranged by brand, type, and flavour.

As he continued to run his hand along the rows upon rows of products, he stumbled across another area of products that caught his eye.

"Rohto Mentholatum Lip Balm..."

He read the mini card board sign that was clipped to the shelf as he observed the packaging. The one's that were currently stocked were said to be peach flavoured, the price seemed fairly reasonable as well.

Now, that he thought about it, having a lip balm on hand would be pretty practical, Hiori hated the feeling of his chapped lips. Plus, he deserved some kind of reward.

Hiori reached for one of the tubes, and right before he was about to take the lip balm from the shelf, his fingers brushed against a stranger's hand who was reaching for the exact some one.

On instinct, Hiori pulled away, muttering a quick apology. He turned to said stranger to say tell them that they could take it before realizing that said stranger wasn't a stranger at all.

"Oh! Hiori?"

Oh God, it was you

"H-hey!"

He managed to squeak out as you gave him a soft smile, he was surprised he hadn't made a complete fool of himself yet. Without realizing it, he had promptly shoved the tube of lip gloss he was going to buy for you into his back pocket.

"Hi! I didn't realize you were the shopping type Hiori."

You greeted him once more as you observed the hand that quickly pocketed the lip tube, you didn't press any further however.

"Oh, I'm not actually, I'm just getting a gift for someone special..."

Hiori chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. He chastised himself for his wording, of course he had to say it like that, now if he gave you the gift you'd know for sure that he liked you.

But then again, that would spare him the humiliation of actually having to say it directly to your face, not that he ever wanted to confess in the first place...

"Someone...special? I didn't know you had a girlfriend Hiori..."

You trailed off, you sounded disappointed almost.

Hiori's face flushed at your words, he didn't mean to give you that idea. He could slowly feel heat creep up his neck as you continued to stare at him.

"Guess I shouldn't be that surprised..."

This time you were avoiding eye contact, you laughed somewhat bitterly. Were you jealous? Part of Hiori wanted to delude himself into thinking that, but another part of him wanted to die right there and then to avoid making a bigger fool out of himself.

"N-No I don't have a girlfriend actually!"

He assured you as his face turned an even brighter shade of red.

Where was Karasu when ya' needed him?

Suddenly, Hiori felt a light tap against his head. It was Karasu! His knight in shining armor, to save him from the train wreck of a conversation. His teammate was holding a small basket full of a few products, some mascara, eye liner, and a few skin cream tubs among them.

"I'm gonna go check out now, are ya' done yet?"

His friend asked as he rested his hand on Hiori's shoulder, Karasu looked up at you, realizing that there was company present.

The silence that followed was deafening.

You glanced between the two boys, you had recalled Karasu from Hiori's youth team, but you didn't know much about the older boy, but you had spotted him hanging around Hiori pretty frequently, so you assumed that they were fairly close.

"Oh, I'm sorry am I interrupting something?"

You questioned as your eyes flickered between the two of them, your head was tilted slightly in curiosity. You noticed Karasu's grip on Hiori's shoulder tighten ever so slightly at the sound of your question.

Hiori shook his head frantically, Karasu was probably giving you that same unsettling stare he always used whenever he was sizing someone up on you.

"No! Not at all! But I should get going right about now..."

He assured you that nothing was wrong, but he was already flustered enough, and there was no way Karasu would let him hear the end of whatever this incident should be labelled as.

"Well I'll see you school I guess!"

You flashed him another bright smile before turning to Karasu, and you gave the older boy a curt and quick bow.

"I'm (Y/N), Hiori's classmate, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Karasu was caught off guard by your sudden politeness, but he returned the favour.

"Karasu."

He stated quickly before taking Hiori's hand in his own, you seemed to take note of this.

You were about to walk away, so you waved to them before saying;

"Have fun on your date!"

Wait what?!

If Hiori's face was red before, it was basically crimson by now. The girl he liked not only thought he was taken, but now she thought he was into guys?!

"W-we're not!-He's not-I'm not-"

Karasu simply wheezed at the current predicament, clearly amused by your assumption of Hiori and him's relationship and by his younger friend's sudden flustered expression.

"I wish! Don't worry yer' pretty little head off though, he's still avaliable∼. He's quite taken with you at that too."

Karasu teased as he winked at Hiori, clearly taking sadistic pleasure in his friend's suffering.

"Karasu!"

Hiori whisper shouted as his friend dragged him out the store, still laughing as the cyan-haired boy continued his flustered protests which bore no fruit.

Well at least you knew how he felt now...

BONUS!

"This is why I told ya' to quit flirting with me like that! People are getting the wrong idea about us..."

"Aww but I can't have random girls stealing you away from me∼"

"Shut up ya' stupid crow!"

"Make me prodigy∼"

[b0tsbby]

More Trigun Racing AU!!! Wow!!!

Please give no welcome at all for your own safety to the elusive Racer Number 999.

The Pale White Horse. The Silver Angel. The Last Racer. Triple Nine. Maybe even Nines if you’re suicidal. This formidable legend of many names has only ever been seen once on the track 70 years ago. Was it mass hysteria? No one truly knows if he’s real. But something cleared that track in record time, and the unfortunate racers on it never lived to tell the tale…

Talking and Design Notes Under Cut as Usual

Since this is a Stampede au I! Didn’t have a lot to work with from the original content! But it’s okay cause I read Max❤️.

That said I wanted Knives to appear somewhat more uniform then Vash. It is essentially still SEEDS uniform, but I wanted it to feel somewhat at home in a racer setting, a bit more uniform to contrast everyone else who is a little wackier. So designing it close to astronaut attire felt like the way to go. A weird mix of general pro racer attire and something that feels a bit alien and unapproachable. The Onesie situation was also non negotiable. It’s in black now because I read Max❤️.

A lot my inspiration came from Knives’ edgy black Griffith suit he just fucking wore that one time (points to his helmet and the three eyes) as well as the abstract sci fi work of Range Murata.

I love the name 999 for the wordplay on Knives and Nai and Nines and Nine. It is also the last racer number. And the angel number 999 is so perfectly oxymoronic to his whole character and situation I guess it was perfect. Something about the end of everything too.

Knives in this au, like Stampede, still has an obsession with the idea of belonging and home. Where No Mans Land here is a purgatory, a criminal’s playground, Knives has a strong affinity for and desire to reach the stars. But he needs the power within both him and his brother to do that.

His car is dubbed the Ark too, it’s an extension of himself, made out of the material remains of his sisters and his own gate. It can drive on its ‘own’, but doesn’t for the purpose of winning, but rather to enact some form of judgement in one big swoop.

Not actually interested in this game Zazie has orchestrated, but the two are more so on equal footing in this setting, so Knives compromises. His car only appears twice, and he only actually races once. That one time being against his brother…for drama’s sake…

Oh also, glasses are reference to when he really fucked shit up that one time. Crazy swagger (among other things) radiating off this…

[somebluemelodies]

DAY ONE OF SPIDERBIT THEME WEEK STARTED BY @anonymous-dentist! :D SELECTED THEME: ROYALS part of my existing spiderbit royals au, which you can find here :)

All things considered, this gala is actually tolerable.

It's not that Roier hates galas - he likes dressing up, gossiping with townsfolk, participating in a few dances. It's the politics he doesn't like: classist courtiers, uptight generals, all the talk of pacts and trades and treaties, this and that-

Too many negatives and not enough positives.

But this? This is his first gala with Cellbit as his personal guard. As his partner.

There was another gala, months before. Back when Cellbit was still practically a stranger to him, one of the knights who patrolled the parameters of the massive ballroom and down the halls to ensure nothing went awry. Back when suitors were coming up to him left and right, looking to flirt and dance and win his hand alongside his heart. Roier would humor them, but they would never win. Even if it made his parents increasingly exasperated with him.

There will be none of that this time around, though, at least he certainly hopes. This time, things are different. So much different.

In what has to be a first, there's no armor on Cellbit to be found. Instead, the silver metal has been replaced with black and white and deep emerald fabrics; a high-collared shirt and a long coat. The guard's sword is in its sheath attached to his waist, though, veiled from immediate sight by a black cape, and he expects nothing less.

In no uncertain terms, Roier has trouble looking away. But it's fine, because Cellbit keeps looking at him, too, with unadulterated adoration, smiling with such a warm fondness that it makes him melt all over, and he wonders how the hell he went for so long without it.

(There's a lot of other eyes on them at first, too. It makes Cellbit stiff in his vigilance, his face open to the world and not just his world. But Roier's hand barely leaves his.)

(They really do stand out; dark greens and reds contrary to the bright yellow-golds and vivid violets of the prince's parents. A match that could rival, indeed.)

The gala enters its full swing and everything is, well, normal. Tolerable. The prince makes his rounds with the townsfolk, getting his favorite clue into the local drama. Chisme.

The guard accompanies him, too, but occasionally walks off to strike conversation with his own companions, or do his own silent checks around the borders of the ballroom. The latter doesn’t go unnoticed by Roier.

“Ya, mi amor,” he chastises fondly when Cellbit returns once. “Nothing to worry about.”

The band starts playing a tune that makes Roier perk up immediately, and before Cellbit can dispel the recognizable glint in his eye, the guard is being pulled deeper into the ballroom, Roier’s hand sliding into his own as the prince’s free settles on his shoulder.

Cellbit huffs, but he’s anything but upset, especially with the way Roier’s face lights up with a laugh, pressing closer still.

(And he remembers why dancing isn’t so bad, after all. If it means this.)

(They’re getting married. Married.)

The song ends with Roier getting twirled out with a laugh and a flourish. Then, it’s clear he gets another idea, tugging Cellbit’s hand lightly. “Sigueme, sigueme.”

They’re slipping out of the ballroom and down a hall, going up the stairs. Their final destination is revealed when the prince pushes open one of the double doors and they’re hit with a cool summer breeze.

“They’re going to notice we’re gone.” Cellbit quirks a brow.

“And? I saw the look on my father’s face. I am not listening to another general if I can help it.”

The guard hums, smiling amusedly. “Brilliant solution.”

“I’m full of them, no?” Roier responds.

“Sometimes.” The quip is met with a gasp and a smack to Cellbit’s shoulder. Roier pulls back in faux hurt, hand to his heart and everything, but then Cellbit’s hands are on his waist and he’s pulled right back. The prince pouts. “Hijo de puta.”

Cellbit only smiles knowingly, and Roier feels positively fuzzy. Their lips connect, and he’s flush against his love once more, arms circling snugly around the guard’s neck.

(A fire burns. All it took was patience.)

(He’s never letting go, now.)

When they finally pull apart, Roier rests his head against Cellbit’s shoulder, and they hold each other tighter still.

They can’t hear the music from the ballroom anymore, but it doesn’t matter. The night is their guide, as it always has been, and all is well.

[sunmaylight]

Househusband Kafka? AU

((Edit: added a title to this piece))

I’ve started watching Kaiju No. 8 and have a plunny idea

Househusband Kafka who is legally married to Mina. Those two can be romantically married or platonically married and have picked up all the signed of a happily married couple without realizing it. Aka, “Because this is my First Life” k-drama (even though I haven’t gotten too far into it and they are both working young adults)

Canon happens as normal…to the extent that Mina knows that Kafka can turn into a Kaiju, but thinks that it is a slow transformation happening to him. She has the idea that it is reversible and pushes Kafka to be seen by the Kaiju experts and doctors to get the transformation reversed. Even though Kafka already knows that it might be impossible to reverse this at all.

More thought out stuff below

Pre-Marriage

Kafka and Mina unexpectedly reunited one day in the middle of Mina’s career. It would have been a joyful reunion if it wasn’t for the fact that both smelt like Kaiju extract.

The two met as Kafka was cleaning up a Kaiju and Mina is tasked with looking out for the cleanup crew in case if the corpse had any hidden failsafe organs. There was one, the Kaiju had a function of releasing extract as a spray and had it loaded up before it was killed. It sprayed only on Kafka and Mina. Luckily there is a public shower area nearby, so the two were able to get cleaned up quickly. They used the time waiting for transportation to pick them up to catch up. Before leaving they exchanged numbers

Time goes on, the two meet when they can until it get to the point where people recognize Mina in public. As a figure for Kaiju extermination, there are mixed reactions people have for her. Especially a significant sponsor who thinks that Mina should be married already and offers one of his children as a candidate.

Mina complains about this to Kafka when they are hanging out at her house with food and drinks. Then a flash of inspiration strikes Kafka. He suggests that the two become legal partners. That way, if someone tries something like that to Mina again then she has an excuse to refuse them. Her coworker can know about the two’s arrangement as well for a good laugh. Plus if she ever finds someone she wants to actually date, then they can divorce. Also taxes.

Plan in motion early in the morning and with alcohol in their veins, the two draft a contract and legal certificate. That includes mundane things such as rent, groceries, cooking (Kafka cooks for 80% of the time and Mina cooks when she can if she wants to. The 20% is if they can’t stomach food that day), etc; to the more Kaiju related insurances polices, visitation rights, and what kind of ceremony do they want to do. When they wake up, they both have a killer migraine and a crude drawing of Bakko for some reason. (The drawing has a special place on the fridge)

Post-Marriage

For the two of them, it feels as though nothing much changes about their relationship besides living together now with Bakko the giant white tiger. The tiger gets spoilt by Kafka and Mina tried but fails to fix Bakko’s behavior whenever the tiger sees Kafka after work. That is, pouncing on Kafka and licking his face a lot.

Outsiders notices things differently however. They are domestic.

When Mina forgot to bring a lunch one day at work and was going to get something from the canteen, Kafka somehow arrives at her office with two matching lunchboxes. She brings him to the canteen and others just watch as the two eat lunch while talking about Kaiju, what does Mina want to eat for dinner, chores, walking Bakko, and grocery request to pick up on the way home?!

When Kafka is about to enjoy some pudding during work, Mina barges in wearing sunglasses and Kafka’s hoodie. She then grills him about hiding the pudding at home. He argues that she shouldn’t have an entire cup of pudding every day, She argues back he shouldn’t do that as well. The two compromise in a corner of the break room and are seen pouting while sharing Kafka’s cup of pudding. Kafka’s coworkers let the two be since they are used to Mina’s unannounced visits.

While working, it is uncommon to see Kafka call Mina while she is being transported to a certain location during a Kaiju attack. If one listens in, they can hear her debating with Kafka on the best place to shoot the Kaiju. It is always 50/50 on who wins the debate since more often than not it is cut off when Mina arrives at her destination.

However, Mina calling Kafka while he is on his way to a clean up location is more common. She gives him info what to look out for when taking care of the Kaiju corpse that she noticed in battle. He then asks if she noticed anything else unique about the Kaiju. If she wasn’t in the battle, the two gush about the fight and distinguishing characteristics about the Kaiju. The information that Kafka learns helps reduce the work related accidents compared to other clean up crew teams. He even scores employee of the month a few times.

In the dead of night if there are no Kaiju attacks, Kafka and Mina sometimes spend the nights holding each other or sleeping with Bakko when things are too much. If they remember the disaster of their hometown, if either of them had a horrible day where someone they know died during a Kaiju attack, or even nightmares.

There are times when the two get into an argument about Kafka not being in the Defense Force yet/applying for another job in the Defense Force that doesn’t require him being in the front lines frequently. They both don’t talk about Kafka not applying for the Defense Force as they both hold onto that dream.

Canon

((My knowledge isn’t that great. I’m only watching the anime so far and they are concluding the fungus Kaiju. So take these what ifs instead))

When Mina arrived home after Kafka gains the ability to turn into a Kaiju, she and Bakko are greeted with the sight of Kafka cooking while using a tail as well. Instincts kick in and Mina has Kafka pinned on the ground with her weapon. Kafka tries to calm her down but it just stresses her out and stresses him out more in turn. The stress builds until Kafka ends up with a tail, sharp mouth, and an arm transformed before Ichikawa calls to remind Kafka to be careful not to transform in public. Mina then looks at Kafka horrified for him and thinks of what to do when Kafka interrupts Mina. He tells her not to worry, this might be a good thing in achieving his dream.

In the end, Mina decides to keep quiet about Karla’s partial transformations and for the Defense Force to pay special attention to the recruits of this batch. She doesn’t realize that Kafka can transform into Kaiju No. 8

As Kafka works as a cadet the Defense Force staff treats him differently. Before, he is somewhat known to the staff members as Mina’s “household-husband” and is treated as a giant teddy bear sometimes, but now as a cadet, he witnesses how strict these people are. It is exciting for him, he wonders if this was how Mina was treated while rising the ranks.

Besides Leno Ichikawa, the others in their group have no idea that Kafka and Mina are technically married and are roommates. They find out that the two live together when the group runs into Mina and Bakko while training. Bakko pounces on Kafka and licks him then once he is up, Kafka asks Mina what does she want for dinner like he does whenever he drops by the base before. Oblivious to the reveal he accidentally dropped, Kafka runs ahead of the group with Leno. The two jog and discuss about last week’s Kaiju attack when Mina jumps in and argues about a certain characteristic of the Kaiju that she thinks fits one type instead of the other. All three end up oblivious to the group they left behind.

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Cat AU Reversal

Remember the AU where Jack is a cat that can transform into a human with or without cat ears and a tail? Well, a recent comment reminded me of the theory that cats might be able to sense ghosts(?) like Jack. This theory came about because cats can’t stand Jack, and he’s not a fan of them either for some mysterious reason. Somehow, I don’t think it’s because Jack is secretly a werewolf or has wolfish traits like he’s from the Omegaverse.

Another bit of lore to fuel this theory came from the (now sadly deleted) trailer where Shaun describes (presumably) Jack as a thing. Shaun has a fair number of cat-like traits, including whisker marks and purring. He’s very cat-coded, so it’s entirely possible that he won’t be able to stand Jack either.

Wouldn’t it be quite interesting then if there was a reversal of the cat AU? Here, MC is the one who’s secretly a cat that can transform into a human, and as such they can sense that there’s more to Jack than meets the eye.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

Content Warning: This post contains talk of sex, cheating, abusive family situations, chronic illness, bullying, death, mourning, body horror, yandere obsession, and kinky sexy times with cat-like features. I’ll try to keep things for the most part light and fun, but sometimes drama likes to creep into these headcanons.

Also, sometimes they spark me to write a snippet of a scene or two!

Really, I can see a lot of potential for a more tsundere experience with Jack. Since cats naturally don’t get along with him and vice-versa, there’d be even more friction between him and his sunshine right from the start. This will make winning MC over a heck of a lot more challenging for Jack, and as such put him at much greater risk if he can’t convince them to want him in spite of this natural repulsion. It can also be a great internal conflict for him, as he dislikes cats yet loves MC dearly.

This sort of scenario would be perfect to insert myself like an isekai given my feline avatar, but y’all know how much I love the guy. Maybe it’s because my avatar is a dragon in the shape of a feline that I’m immune to this feline repulsion. Perhaps dragons are the opposite and just instantly fall in love with Jack instead. Jack certainly loves his sunshine as a dragon.

But you know me, I’ve got to indulge with my OTP, and this sort of silly AU is perfect to do just that.

I know in the past I’ve said that my girl Alice is more bunny-coded, but imagining her as a fluffy white kitty with bright blue eyes is adorable. I can see the whole King family embodying the feline spirit, plus it’d be hilarious to imagine how Bo and Elias would have to deal with similar feline shenanigans from Barbie and Coraline respectively.

I wonder if Elias has similar issues with cats as a ghost. I’d be tragic if he actually liked them in life, only for them to be repelled in death. Naturally, it’s pretty obvious what Bo’s beef with cats is, as it’s hard coded into his virtual doggy DNA. This doggo is going to have to overcome his programming for the sake of love.

So, yeah, this post is less about general MCs in this situation and more about my OCs since the possibilities of messing with the guys with cats is hilarious to me. It’s going to be mostly a light-hearted romp with some spiciness here and there.

Of course, the lore of the game and Sunshine in Hell aren’t quite the same when it comes to cats. I’ve mentioned in the past how Jack and Moon Pie are going to bond, and Shaun and Jack are going to become friends despite their issues. Given my fondness for cats and Jack, I just can’t resist the image of kitties snuggling up to him.

But I like adding a bit of spice sometimes, and not just the NSFW kind. It’d be so interesting if Alice is instinctively repelled by Jack at the start, maybe even seeing him as an undead corpse, but she still chooses to save and be close to him. It’d be a very real beauty and the beast tale.

Then again, it’s probably more accurate to call it a beast and the beast tale considering Alice turns into an animal.

Anyway, things play out as they usually do, with Alice picking up the tape at the thrift store, finding it oddly compelling. In this universe, her favorite way to unwind after a hard day is to turn on the TV and slip into something more comfortable. And by comfortable I mean ridiculously flexible because dang, who wouldn’t want to be able to turn into a boneless little puddle of fur? Have you seen how relaxed cats can get? I can’t help but be a little jealous.

Of course, a good boneless sprawl across the sofa gets a little less relaxing when the tape starts talking back. Alice would turn from a limp noodle to a rigid arch with bristled fur in an instant after hearing a character on TV call her by name.

As I’ve mentioned previously, Alice willingly bonded herself to Jack in Sunshine in Hell to save him from, well, hell. The process just made her forget about it. I’m really fond of this headcanon because it goes well with themes of consent in the game and the fact that Jack is literally unable to do anything his sunshine doesn’t want him to do. He needs MC to want and need him in order to remain in this world.

It’d be quite a bit harder for Alice to agree to such a deal when her instincts are giving her clear warning signals that something is wrong with Sunny Day Jack. Looks aren’t everything, and appearances can be deceiving, but animal instincts tend to be a pretty good guide.

However… that wouldn’t be the only instinct demanding that Alice take action. Alice is the reincarnation of Mary, the person who loved this ghost(?) long before he became Jack. They’re soulmates, and her dying wish was to be reborn and loved by her precious starlight once again.

So it would be a war of two cats inside of Alice. One cat is hissing at the unholy abomination pawing at her soul. The other is mournfully crying out for him with a longing that she just can’t explain. Reminds me of that two wolves meme come to think of it.

It’d be quite the confusing moment, that’s for sure.

On the subject of Mary, it would be interesting if she was a cat shifter too. Joseph could’ve been one of those guys that pretend that they don’t like cats, but secretly just wants to cuddle with one. Sadly, the poor guy is so love starved that he comes on too strong, and cats always try to get away from him. It’s easier for him to just pretend he doesn’t like cats so their rejection doesn’t sting quite so much.

With Joseph being a normal, very much alive human, there would be no instinct warning Mary away from him. Well… not unless Joseph is just a natural cat-repellant like Sakaki from Azumanga Daioh. Still, even in that case, Mary would be his special exception. Even Sakaki eventually found her feline soulmate too after all~

You know, it would be interesting if Mary was the only one in the Phoenix family who could transform into a cat. It could even be her own little secret that only Joseph finds out about. She could even use her feline form to sneak off to visit him at his house. It’d be only fair considering all the times he comes to climb in through her window.

As a cat, Mary had the same pretty blue eyes, but a chocolate colored coat, which is pretty rare for cats.

That suddenly gives me the image of someone scooping up Mary in cat form, intending to make her into their pet. She can’t exactly change back in front of a stranger, and though she struggles with all her might, she can’t squirm out of their grip.

Suddenly young teenage Joseph barrels into the cat-napper from behind! This little punk was no stranger to picking fights, and the second he saw someone try to take Mary away, he had to act. It doesn’t matter if they’re an adult and much bigger than him, Joseph will still punch their lights out!

Sure, Joseph might get in trouble if the person reported him or if an authority figure saw him in the act, but why should he care? He won’t hesitate to take on the entire world if it means he doesn’t have to be separated from the one person in the whole world who actually cares about him.

I wonder if in this universe they could’ve run away together. Sure, Mary might’ve been forbidden from seeing him like in the regular continuity, but if she can sneak out as a cat, she can still see him. After being told that she won’t live to adulthood by her doctor, she refuses to waste time that could be spent with the people she cares about. In the normal timeline, her parents put bars on her windows then forced her to move away. She didn’t have the option to rebel. She didn’t even consider running away as an option. She could only accept this sad truth.

Joseph Cullman was a kid who thought about running away though. He’s someone so lonely, so desperate for love. He can’t just let go of the only person who loves him! It was hard enough going to separate schools and only being able to see each other when Mary could sneak out, but news about the move would be devastating.

Joseph can’t let that happen.

I can imagine the scene of Mary coming to Joseph to tell him one last goodbye…

…

Joseph jolted when he saw the way Mary’s eyes glistened wetly with tears. More tears fell when she shifted back to her human form. The puffiness around her eyes and the redness around them hinted at just how many more tears she had shed before seeing him. “Mary? What’s wrong?”

“J-Jo…,” Mary choked out, but that was all she could say before she threw herself into his arms. She buried her face into the crook of his neck just in time to muffle a sob.

Joseph held Mary tightly to him, his heart pounding so hard his chest hurt while a pit formed in his stomach. He remembered the last time she cried into his arms like this, after the doctor told her that she wouldn’t live to see adulthood.

“It… it’s okay…,” he eventually managed to squeak out. “What… whatever it is… it’ll be okay.” The words came out brittle, a lie too fragile to offer any form of strength to either of them.

It took some time for Mary to finally force out the awful truth.

“M-my family is m-moving away!”

Joseph froze, the words coming down on him with the force of a judge’s gavel delivering the death sentence. He barely kept up with the details Mary managed to add between shaky breaths and choked sobs. It was something about a job states away, but whatever was going on with those damn parents of hers didn’t matter. They could fuck off to a different country - a different planet for all he cared! They certainly never cared about what Mary wanted.

Those bastards weren’t satisfied with simply forbidding Joseph and Mary from being together. It wasn’t enough to put bars on her windows or threaten to call the police if he even stepped foot on their property. This move was so extreme, so permanent and final. It felt like a middle finger directed at both of them and their love.

Joseph couldn’t imagine a life without Mary. He refused to accept it.

No one would take his sunshine away.

But what could they do? Mary couldn’t hide at his house, it’d be the first place they’d look! There were so few places they could go. The teachers were relentless about catching delinquents, chasing them out of secret stomping grounds and poking their noses where they didn’t belong. The police would be even worse.

Nowhere in this town was safe. The only way they could be together was…

“We’ll run away.”

The thought slipped past his lips as a quiet whisper. It came out so easily, just as natural a solution as adding one plus one to make two. Hearing it aloud sparked something in Joseph, and in an instant he just knew it was the right decision.

“Wh-what?” Mary sniffled, as she looked up at him with wide, wet eyes.

“We’ll run away,” Joseph repeated, his voice strong and sure. His eyes blazed with a fire that couldn’t be extinguished, as he squeezed Mary just a little closer. “We’ll run away to someplace where no one knows us, so no one can tell us what to do, or pick on us, or keep us apart ever again.

Though stunned and aghast by the idea, Mary still listened. She was reluctant to leave her family behind, but Joseph knew that they didn’t deserve her. He had spent so much time seeing how badly they treated her. His family was no better. It was the same with their classmates, the teachers…

What few protests Mary could offer were feeble, easily shattered by Joseph’s resolve, which only grew more galvanized as he dug up all the awful things they had gone through over the years. So many times he wanted to scream to the world the unfairness of it all, and he laid that unfairness bare for both of them to see that this city had no love to offer either of them.

And that included the people who shared their blood.

Mary didn’t want to lose the only person who treated her like she was worthy of existing. She also didn’t want to lose her parents and older brother, the people she had known all of her life. She had to choose between her family or Joseph. She loved both so much. She wanted so badly to be loved by all of them. The thought of losing either of them tore her apart inside. No matter who she chose, her heart would be cleaved in two.

In the end, Mary chose to keep the half of her heart that actually made her feel loved.

…

I know I kind of skimmed over the way Joseph convinced Mary to run away with him, but they are two love-struck teens, immature and emotional. Mary wouldn’t necessarily have thought of running away on her own, but Joseph is passionate enough about keeping his sunshine that I’m sure he’ll win her over. They’re both in a very emotionally vulnerable state at the time after all.

The same general story beats are the same, leading the pair to LambsWork Productions, and an eventual tragedy. Being a cat shifter didn’t really change much there, save for one small detail.

Mary ran away one last time after the incident. It was the hardest thing she ever did. The hospital was certainly in a panic over their missing patient in critical condition. However, cats tend to instinctively want to go someplace secluded in their final hours. There was only one place she wanted to go, one cold and lonely place she heard about from the few visitors she got.

The SunnyTime Crew weren’t allowed to arrange a funeral for Joseph, but they made a memorial for him in secret. Mary was told about it. They promised to take her there when she got better, so she just had to keep fighting.

This was Mary’s final fight, one last struggle to reach the memorial on her own four paws. When she finally reached it, she curled up around the cross, between the still lit candles, and thought about her starlight as darkness crept in to steal her away for good.

Thaaaaaaat went a lot darker than I intended this post to go. My apologies. I just have so many big feelings about this poor tragic pair. Let’s switch back to a more hopeful future, shall we?

Alice might not remember being Mary, but some instincts still linger. She’s protective and loving… and she was broken by a cheating ex who moved on to new and exciting people without her. In that vulnerable state, Jack appeared, needing her help. Her feline instincts might scream at the wrongness of him, but they also tell her that he was someone she didn’t realize she was missing for so, so long.

Though wary, Alice does agree to help Jack. It’s more than a little surprising for him to see a white cat instead of a person when he starts crawling out of the TV. That surprise only compounds when she turns into a human to help pull him out.

Really, it makes Jack wonder even more if he really is still dreaming after all.

Alice waking up without remembering their initial meeting does set things back a bit. She’s repulsed by Jack even as she’s drawn to him. It makes her feel guilty, but her instincts haven’t let her down before. They were what told her that things about her relationship with Ian weren’t right, made her question things to the point that spent a chunk of her savings booking a ticket to see him, hoping that surprising him with an unexpected visit would put her fears to rest.

Alice arrived at the most perfect, most horrible time.

Cats have really good hearing, and Alice could hear what Ian and the affair partner were doing in his apartment even before she could knock on the door. She was in shock and didn’t know what to do, had nowhere to go in this city she had never visited before. She was only snapped out of her shock by the phone call Ian made when he tearfully confessed what he had done.

Ian was shocked that Alice already knew what he had done. He was even more shocked that she was there. He ran out, wearing only a blanket to cover his modesty. He stank of sex and the other woman. He was covered in lipstick and markings and fluids. It was a repugnant experience for Alice to get her senses assaulted even as Ian was crying and begging for her forgiveness. He didn’t know how it happened, but he promised that he never did this before.

Of course… the affair partner was there, listening. This person knew about Alice and was keen to rub it in the face of her “rival” that she was “better.” After all, a lot of the allure of seducing someone in a relationship is the feeling of superiority.

It was a cruel scene, one that just made Ian’s betrayal all the worse for choosing to destroy their relationship for someone so awful, someone who delighted in Alice’s misery.

Ian, who was overwhelmed by the enormity of what he had done and the shame eating him alive, could do little more than cry and apologize. He was too much of a mess to even refute his affair partner’s barbs, not after what he had done.

Ian never really was good at standing up to bullies, especially when he was in distress.

Alice never tried to make it work in this universe after that. Ian had destroyed her trust and crushed her heart, and the affair partner poured salt and lye into the wound. For as many times as she forgave Ian, this was a pain inflicted far deeper than any she could recover from.

Alice didn’t drown herself in alcohol and go to the hospital in this universe. She instead wandered lost in the city with her luggage after she finally couldn’t take it anymore and ran away from Ian’s apartment. It was the most alone she ever felt in her life, in a place she didn’t know, with no one to trust who she could turn to. She felt like a housecat that had been thrown out of its home, forced to become a stray on the streets of a big, heartless city.

It was the loneliest Alice had ever felt in her entire life.

It took Alice a while to piece herself back together enough to make the return flight with the help of many phone calls with family and friends. They were there to meet her when she got off the flight at the airport and started crying as she was brought into a group hug.

Of course, in the aftermath, Ian still tried to reach out. He tried to fix things, make it work. Alice could never answer his calls. Hearing him crying and begging broke her further, but the entire incident added a heavy bitterness that kept her from wavering.

Jack arrived while Alice was still healing from such a devastating wound. While she had support immediately after the incident, eventually her family went back to their respective homes, Shaun moved away to further his schooling, and other friends of hers drifted further and further apart, especially after she had to move apartments.

Alice had to adjust to a new city where she knew no one and start her life over. She was alone in a big city, keeping a secret that few could learn about for fear that they wouldn’t understand or might take advantage of it. She was scared and wary of Jack when he suddenly entered her life, but also felt a strange longing. Her heart that wished for those beautiful loving moments with Ian now nudged her towards Jack, and she couldn’t understand why part of her wanted him that way. It made no sense.

Much like a cat, Alice kept her distance from Jack, but not too much. She didn’t want to be alone, so she didn’t want to stray far from him. It was complicated.

Fortunately, despite this feeling of wrongness, Jack constantly proved himself to be gentle and kind. He did so much for Alice, took care of her. He saw her as a cat and was actually enthusiastic about cats. He loves cats in fact! He didn’t think she was strange or scary for being able to transform. Alice found it kind of nice having someone she could trust like this, a secret invisible/imaginary(?) friend that she had all to herself.

Besides her family, the only other people who knew her secret were Ian and Shaun. Alice thought she could trust Ian with anything, but she learned the hard way that she trusted him far too much.

Shaun, as one might expect in this sort of AU, is also a cat shifter. Moon Pie will also be a shifter he adopts. Yes, it means he gets to be a single father, but how could he leave poor baby Moon Pie all alone in the world? Plus we get to see cute moments of Moon Pie in her adorable human form.

Look at that face. Who would be heartless enough to leave her behind? Credit for the gorgeous art, as always goes to the awesome Sauce. Consider supporting them and SnaccPop Studios on patreon!

Cat shifters can sense one another on instinct. That’s how Shaun figured out what Moon Pie was and how he and Alice spotted one another right away when they first met at the college. It made Ian feel uneasy how quickly the two bonded, and he couldn’t help but feel jealous despite being otherwise secure in their relationship. Alice might’ve trusted Ian with her secret, but she wasn’t about to share anyone else’s without permission, so Ian didn’t learn the real reason why they clicked so quickly.

Shaun didn’t like Ian’s vibes so never let Ian in on the secret that he was a shifter like Alice. It also gave him a little bit of petty satisfaction to see Ian jealous. It made bearing his one-sided crush on Alice a little easier. Of course he would never do more than lightly poke Ian to make himself feel better. He would never try to break up a happy couple, and he wasn’t a scumbag who cheats on his partner or helps other people cheat on their partners.

Of course, Shaun soon learned they weren’t quite as happy a couple as they wanted to be.

Sleepovers with Shaun in this universe involved kitty cuddle puddles. There was nothing like curling up together all warm and toasty in some blankets during a horror movie marathon. Cats can do some pretty close cuddling too. It certainly would’ve made Ian and Jack pretty jealous if they saw it!

Which is exactly why Shaun is going to do so when he’s staying at the apartment after getting settled in. He’s gotta pay back Jack for rubbing it in his face that Alice chose Jack after all.

Of course, Shaun isn’t going to have the same split instincts that Alice had. He’s going to be freaking out over Jack, being extra defensive over Alice. For as much as Alice insists that Jack isn’t dangerous, it’s hard for Shaun to shake the feeling of wrongness. Alice fully understands the feeling, as she felt it before. Really, that feeling hasn’t gone away completely, she’s just managed to calm her instincts in that regard with the love she feels for Jack. He’s managed to soothe those defensive instincts down to just a small prickle at the back of her mind.

Since Shaun can’t convince Alice that Jack is bad news, he’s more determined to stick around and keep an eye on Jack. Given how much Alice gave of herself to Ian, who only hurt her in the end, Shaun isn’t convinced that history won’t repeat itself with Jack.

Really, Shaun would consider coming up with excuses to stay in the apartment longer if not for poor baby Moon Pie. Both he and Alice would be worried about her being distressed by Jack's presence. Shaun, naturally, goes protective papa mode, and Alice wants to do all she can to comfort her. For Moon Pie's sake, it's best that they get their own place.

Of course, Shaun would prefer that Alice comes with them and leaves Jack behind.

Jack does try to reassure Moon Pie that he's not dangerous, as she is just an innocent, blind child. It makes him very sad to see any child afraid of him. It bothers him more than he'll admit. (After all, it was Joseph's fear that he might hurt or upset kids as Sunny Day Jack.) He goes out of his way to try and be friendly to her, but she's not convinced, and often openly hisses at him even in human form.

It hurts Jack a lot that the only child that can perceive him is so afraid of him. He can't rest easy with that, eating away at him similar to certain bad memories, so he makes it his personal mission to befriend Moon Pie. It's a priority for him that comes second only to taking care of Alice and loving her.

I figure that Shaun sees a shadowy outline where Jack is, something twisted, putrid, and rotting. Jack gives off a phantom stench that he recoils from. He can't see how Alice can stand to cuddle that thing.

Alice did see Jack in a very distorted way when he arrived. Hell, he still doesn't quite fit in reality, but she can see him for what she is. Her love for him has dulled those repellant sensations so she can better sense him the way he wants her to see, feel, hear, smell, and taste him.

Moon Pie, being blind, can't actually see Jack, but she can keenly feel him, and smell the wrongness. She calls him stinky and often buries her face in Shaun's shirt when Jack is around so she doesn't have to smell him.

While in Sunshine in Hell, Shaun is going to be wary of Jack, over time, he does warm up to the guy, as there’s no instinctive sense of wrongness interfering in that universe. With his protective instincts on high alert in this one, he’s going to have a much harder time calming down about the guy, if he ever does.

It's possible though that Moon Pie will warm up to Jack before Shaun does. Children are more adaptive, and Jack is experienced with dealing with children, plus he is very sincere in wanting to befriend her. Regardless of his feelings about Shaun, he badly wants Moon Pie to like him. Alice certainly helps by championing him as a good guy who can be trusted despite what their feline instincts might lead them to believe.

You bet your sweet bippy that Shaun is going to dig hard into Jack’s past and figure out what the hell is going on with him. He wants to learn everything - where Jack came from, how Jack came to be, what the hell Jack even is, etc. He might wind up digging and clashing with Jack to the point that he gets treated to a certain little speech…

But this was supposed to be a fun and silly AU, so let’s put the drama and yandere horror on the shelf for now and get back to the sweet fluff.

Once Alice gets comfortable with Jack, she’ll start spending time after work curled up in his lap as a cat. Somehow he always manages to find just the perfect ways to stroke her and get her purring. It feels so good, and she practically meeeeeeeelts at his touch. Relaxing as a cat was the best way to unwind, but Jack makes the experience even better, massaging all the soreness out of her muscles and encouraging her to just sprawl across him languidly, opening up to him completely and without reservation or shame.

Jack can’t help but imagine Alice as a human in those positions. It certainly gives him a hard time while they’re still in the friendship stage. He’ll need to be subtle about readjusting his comfy kitty sunshine to rest in his arms or on a pillow in his lap as he hides just how excited he made himself with his naughty private thoughts.

Naturally, once they become a couple and things get intimate, Jack uses these petting sessions as an excuse to coax Alice to let him touch her in human form… though she can keep those cute kitty ears and tail. He just loves how sensitive those parts of her are, so perfect for him to exploit. He can stroke and lick and nibble, making her mewl for him in the most sinful way.

The purring is nice too. Jack loves to point out when Alice is purring for him. It makes him so happy that he can make her feel so good… and of course the purring feels wonderful when he’s inside her. It’s practically sinful the way her warm body vibrates around him, so intimate and pleasurable. Her halfway form has a texture to her tongue, nothing sharp but the little bumps are so nice when she’s going down on him.

Alice is always extra careful about her fangs, but Jack doesn’t mind if she uses them on him. In fact, he encourages it. He loves it when she leaves love bites all over his body, marking him with her love. He makes sure to return the favor so that the whole world can see his love all over her precious body.

Although Jack can’t carry cat Alice around in public like she can in the AU where Jack is the cat, he can still enjoy some kitty in the titty time. His chest is so warm, with ample cleavage that’s perfect to snuggle into. He can even zip up the bottom of his jacket to make sure she won’t fall out of his shirt - not that he would ever allow that to happen. He would never hurt his sunshine, ever!

As a cat, Alice is so small, vulnerable. There’s something just so soothing being tucked into Jack’s shirt, pressed against his skin, listening to his heartbeat and breathing as she’s wrapped up in his warmth and scent. The way he strokes her and coos sweet words of love are addicting. It’s so hard for her to want to leave this warm little nest she found in his arms, her safety from a cold, lonely world.

It’s familiar too. Sometimes in that hazy state of half-sleep, Alice imagines tattoos on Jack’s chest and phantom scents that are so nostalgic and make her think of home. It’s not quite memories of Mary, but she also loved to be held by Joseph just like this a lifetime ago. The world wasn’t so big and scary when she was surrounded by love.

Jack subconsciously remembers these moments as well, the familiar fur and purring, the way his sunshine rubs her cheek against his chest to mark him with her scent on instinct, claiming him as hers. He is hers, and Alice is his. It’s a truth that had been blurred in his mind for so long, lost and distorted with all his other memories, but now it's oh so clear.

Jack knows that being with Alice is why he’s there. He knew her once - these moments were too familiar, too much like home for him to convince himself otherwise. He can’t remember when or where… but this is his sunshine, his amazing, beautiful, supernatural sunshine that makes him warm like no one else ever could.

Alice was so lonely without Jack, he knows that. Even with her family and other relations… he knows she must have been missing something, someone important. Fortunately, he’s here now, and he will never let anything separate them. Ever.

People like Ian and Shaun are seen as opportunistic annoyances that swooped in to fill in the space Jack left behind in his absence. Alice doesn’t need them now that Jack is here.

Her family… can they be trusted? Jack isn’t sure. Since they're cat shifters, surely they'll react the same way Shaun and Moon Pie did. Alice gave him a chance in spite of that instinct because what they have is special. These people... he has no idea.

Alice clearly loves her family, often speaking highly of them. For some strange reason, a part of Jack feels like that’s not true. Not that he thinks Alice is lying! He's sure she means every word, but... he can't quite shake this feeling that they're not good for her. Thoughts of his sunshine’s family were like dark clouds, dimming her beautiful light… yet, what he sees time and time again is the opposite. She lights up when she talks to them over the phone or when she tells him things about them. They sound so warm, like her, and she’s certain that they’ll like him too, even if they have to work around the supernatural roadblocks.

Even still, Jack can’t completely shake the creeping dread that her family is a threat, like they plan to steal her away. He can’t remember why, and he feels bad for thinking that way when they mean so much to her, but he needs to make sure that nothing will ever get between him and Alice.

That’s a bit of a heavy note, but this AU is going to have a happy fluffy ending to it despite the occasional bump in the road because I’m a sucker for happy endings with my OTP. It’s just that this universe has a bit of a winding path to get there. In the end though, Alice and Jack will be happy, and eventually have a few kittens who can turn into children that look like a mixture of the two of them.

Wow, this silly AU ramble went on longer than expected. I should probably start wrapping things up, so I'll be really quick when touching on Barbie and Coraline.

Barbie, being a cat shifter, is a lot more prone to teasing Bo. She doesn't have any negative instincts towards him, but she knows the stereotype and can't help but use it as an excuse to tease her virtual doggy boyfriend. She won’t have the nickname of “Puppy” in this universe, but instead it’ll be “Kitty.” Bo might have issues with cats, but Barbie is his one and only exception. How can he hate her when she’s so warm, and he needs her so badly?

Still, Bo can’t help but go even crazier over her antics in this world, especially since she just loves to tease him without mercy. Like a dog, he wants to chase his kitten around, pounce on her, and show her who the alpha really is. Somehow though, his pretty kitty always manages to get the drop on him, making him be the one to roll over and expose his belly in submission.

Barbie is a large cat - think Maine Coon large - a brown tabby with black stripes and white accents. She has that classic tabby cat look that you could find most anywhere, but her eyes are still dazzling shades of blue and brown that have her stand out from an ordinary cat.

Barbie, also, is a master of the kitty smirk. She uses her feline form as a means to escape interacting with people, and favors climbing to high places to lord over others. In her cat form, she has a collar she wears, and after she gets Bo she decides to clip his digital pet charm onto it so she can take him on wild adventures through the city. It’s a pretty jostling ride, but Bo prefers being shaken up by his kitty and having the world turn into a blur around them as she runs and jumps around rather than being left behind alone at her apartment. 

Coraline is the definition of a house cat due to her health problems. It hurts less to be a cat, strangely enough. Like Barbie, she’s also a brown and black tabby, but she has a lot of white patches along her face, head, belly, and “socks” on her feet. She also has a pretty pair of golden brown eyes.

Although cats instinctively recoil from ghosts, Coraline is still fascinated with them. The sensation she gets from haunted spaces is a rush that makes her addicted to learning more and more about them. When she meets Elias, she’s frozen in place with her instincts screaming in fear, yet at the same time she’s never felt more alive.

So, in a way, cat Coraline is much more of a thrill seeker in this universe, just when it comes to encountering the supernatural. While she might not be healthy enough to parkour around the city like her big sister Barbie, she’s still living quite the exciting life at a more moderate pace.

I think I’ll wrap things up there. Admittedly, there’s not too much different from the regular continuity overall, just some fine feline features have been tweaked here and there. Still, I had fun indulging in images of Jack cuddling kitty Alice and the interesting and unexpected dramatic shifts in the story that comes from what was otherwise a very silly AU. I hope you all enjoyed reading about me indulging in my love of kitties mixed with my OTPs!

[sunny-marl]

you can't fucking believe How Many Headcanons i have for this little shit called Julius Oppenheimer Jr., and about his family. and for what. i don't know.

maybe you'll enjoy one or another idfk????

starts with • <- "main" headcanon, not really linked to other with •

starts with "-" or "--" <- "sub" headcanons of main headcanon

• Mrs. O.'s full name is Jean Mary Oppenheimer. (maiden name is Morgan!!). Seniour is. just Julius Oppenheimer Senior. 👍

- Julius' family, doesn't matter what side, mostly only calls him nicknames and stuff. mostly Jul, Junior, Lil' Julius/Jul, Jul/Julius Junior. they mostly call Senior just Julius.

-- his mom almost only calls him Junior, besides his full name when she's like angry, or stuff like sweetie and dear. she called him Baby Boy a lot when he was a baby/little kid 🫶 she still does it sometimes, and Julius gets embarrassed Every Single Time.

-- his dad mostly calls him Son, My (Little) Guy, Little man and Jul. Young man soooometimes.

•Julius' maternal grandmother is a cat :•]. i'm thinking of her name being like. Felicity.... she's an old Siamese Cat. i'll draw her sometime but basically she's white with small stripes in the dark areas(not including her Old Grandma clothes)

- Jean's fuse moves just like of a cat's actually!!! Senior doesn't have this "tail language" thing, but it does light up when he's really mad.(Jean's doesn't lit without an external force at all)

-- i think it'd be cute if Julius had his own fuse language 😳. like like wagging when happy and shit. he'd absolutely hate it. but idk if I'll actually make it part of my gumball art or not 😭😭😭😭

• when Julius was very young his body was basically. big round head and little bean body. it slowly changed to his current Funny Stick Body with time. i think it'd funny if in da futura gets kind of a upsidedown isosceles-like triangle body + his round. hips?????? he has now idk 👍

- also talking about Julius as a baby. since that time he was a Little Devil. he was not only a troublemaker, but also a drama king and lied way too much(sometimes he didn't even have to lie and lied anyway). if he didn't bite someone at least once, or had a full tantrum in daycare at least 2 times a week. Something Was Wrong.

-- his parents ARE the ones that Will show you his baby photo album even if he begs them not to. he looks like he's crying and/or pissed on most of them. tehehehe.

• Julius is friends with Rotten Cupcake since little kids. and nowadays they're still very close. Evil Besties!!

• (HUMAN. AU.) Senior is mixed, american black + european. he's quite dark in skin, curly hair(that isn't very noticeable since he combs it with lots of hair. clay?) while Jean is very pink-ish pale and has straight hair.

- Julius is almost as pale as his mother. He does have curls in his hair but since he gets it buzzed almost making him Bald it's not very noticeable (he has a rat tail but it's always braided)

• Jean's family side is basically all catholic. Sr.'s have a bunch of family members with different christian religions.

- Julius Jr's parents themselves aren't much of "stricly christians", even if they have some "catholic tendencies" n stuff. Jean's has more of this "tendencies" than Seniour though haha. these two are lgbt allies!!! from a bit of many insistence from Rotten and Julius trying to justify why being Queer. isn't a real sin.

•Julius' uncles and aunts (2 bio uncles from Jean, 3 bio uncles + 2 bio aunts from Sr.'s) that Did have Kids have more than one. there's like two that didn't have any?. sooo yeag he's the only cousin that is an Only Child 😁

[geostatonary]

What's the relationship between CMWGE, Nobilis, and Glitch? The bits of understanding I think I've picked up so far are that they're all (diceless?) ttrpgs and are in vaguely the same setting but at least one's setting is an AU of another one's? They sound really cool, but really confusing, but really cool despite and/or because of the really confusing, and continuing to just pick up the random bits that tumbl my way is Not Enough. Help?

Okay!

Let's talk a bit about publishing for background

In 1999, Jenna Moran (formerly R. Sean Borgstrom) published the first edition of Nobilis through Pharos Press, resulting in what is often called the "Little Pink Book". This was a small run, and it proved successful/interesting enough to get picked up by Hogshead Publishing in 2002, resulting in the second edition of Nobilis, which is often called the "Great White Book". This is the one a lot of people think about when they think "Nobilis", and really put it on the map in the tabletop gamer consciousness. In 2011, the third edition of Nobilis was released through EOS Press. There was a lot of drama involving the publishers and distributors for the last two editions but that's not relevant to your question. Also, a fourth edition is in the works.

Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine (CMWGE) was released in 2015 after a successful kickstarter, initially through EOS Press and then through Jenna's own efforts and the support of a generous benefactor due to her separating from EOS for some of the aforementioned publisher drama. Its technically a multimedia project that also has two associated novels, The Fable of the Swan (2012) and The Night-Bird's Feather (2022).

Finally, Glitch: A Story of the Not was self published in 2022 after another successful kickstarter. This is the most recent of her games within the collective game line, sometimes referred to as "gluubilis" or "the Ash Tree Engine".

Why'd you tell me all that?

So you'd have context for this.

Mechanically, each of these games represents a development on the preceeding works; every later game iterates and develops on the previous games and concepts. This looks something like this

1e/2e Nobilis > 3e Nobilis > CMWGE > Glitch/4e

in terms of major mechanical divisions and advancements.

All the systems are diceless and there's a lot we could say here, but probably the biggest single innovation would be the introduction of Arcs and Quests starting in CMWGE, providing a strong narrative xp framework for all the future games to engage with and be built around.

In terms of the setting, all the games except CMWGE take place on the Ash-Tree Earth in which the universe is a big tree in a cup of fire that's presently at war with the forces of the Void. Nobilis explores play as the Nobilis, individuals empowered by the rulers of Creation to defend it against the Excrucians, the representatives of the Void. Glitch flips this around and has you play as one of those Void beings who used to fight in the war, but is now abstaining from it for any number of reasons.

CMWGE takes place in a world that was drowned in a sort of ontological uncertainty called the Outside. It's set in a possible future where the war of Nobilis and Glitch doesn't reach a conclusive end, but rather the world was cast into an interregnum during which any number of things are possible and also you can have slice of life adventures and shit. None of that background is actually necessary to know to play CMWGE, but I think it's enriching and also it'll help explain some of the various otherwise insane things we the players and fans will say about it. Again, though, nothing actually like. Holds you to that if you wanna do something of your own. CMWGE is notable for being the most customizable of these systems by far.

What's next?

A couple recommendations!

First, I'd recommend reading some of these games! Glitch and Nobilis 3e are imo the most accessible of the game books + they're ones still in use, but CMWGE is also absolutely worth checking out; just be aware that it's handing you a toolbox, so there's a lot more big chunks of mechanics to work through. Honestly, don't be afraid to skip around these books and look at whatever catches your interest. They're very rewarding reads! If you want to read fiction, The Fable of the Swan and The Night-Bird's Feather are both also really good starting points.

Next, talk with people about them! The scene is kinda scattered, but you can still find people on tumblr, Twitter, and cohost at the very least who're talking about this stuff. There's also an official discord and an older fan discord (you can ask me for an invite to that one) where people are pretty active.

Also, just, try playing the games! A lot of the apparent complications are a lot easier to parse and understand when you actually see them in play, and they're fun games.

Finally, don't be afraid to keep asking questions! Given the chance, a lot of us won't shut up about these games, myself included.

[pansyfilia]

welcome to my blog!!

COMMS ARE NOW... OPEN!

you can call me pansy or rina (she/her)

fandom list

greek mythology/epic the musical (save me penelope save me)

the marauders

dungeon meshi my beloveds

tma (currently on s2 so NO SPOILERS)

X MEN i love you jean and ororo and rogue and mystique pls marry me + jubilee can tag along too

i have like one thg post so yk... it was for an au who am i kidding

ON A NOTE!!!! PLEASE DO TALK TO ME, MESSAGE ME, @ ME IF YOU WANT. WE DON'T NEED TO BE MOOTS TO INTERACT OR ANYTHING its bc i need friends :((

my ao3 is @green_starss, where i have a few odypen fics brewing

and ive got a bit of an organising system which is pretty ridiculous soooo

"the little white maggot tag" is just generally rosier twins/ pandora/ evan, whatever really

"the wild hyena at the door tag" is all things barty crouch jr, gay twink and mcr enjoyer

"the scarlet fox tag" is the woman, the MILF, the legend lily evans (she ate btw)

"the magician's rabbit tag" is mary macdonald <333333

"my weaver wife" is PENELOPE OF SPARTA yes i do know she is ody's wife and i would never dream of taking her from him (im stealing her from him respectfully as we speak)

"the green mamba that bites" is dorcas meadowes (we love a mean queen)

"the black cat that haunts" is regulus black, wet dog man and also brother's best friend survivor

"the lovegood moths tag" is essentially the lovegood family, pandora, xeno and luna

"the island and his freshwater pearl" is just odypen, pretty much the only straight pairing on here

" the two rabid beasts" is bartylily (essentially emo/preppy at core)

"the rotting hyena tag" is rosekiller (tee hee)

"the bunny corpse" is my marydora stuff

"pansy's aus" is what it says on the can

"ask pansy anything" basic comprehension skills yall

"pansy rambles" essentially the same vein, see above, etc

I think???? i have an au list somewhere in here so ill put it on here as well

odyssey thg au, where ody and polites go into a war-torn arena and only one returns home (alr a wip)

odyssey modern au, where ody is enlisted in the war and needs to get OUT. dio actually pops in and checks in on him from time to time and calypso is just a super weird flight attendant

odyssey lotr au, following the whole arawen/odypen parallels that have me gripped atm (and also penelopes half divine side as well because the POTENTIAL aghh) jsyk legolas and gimli are perimedes and elpenor :))))))

idk why but like odyssey roleswap au, where eury and ody stay at home while their wives are away on pilgrimage or wtv the equiv is in ancient greece and circe and calypso r just super hot evil minor gods. OMG WAIT tiresias is the same but its his cursed-by-hera woman form (long story, will explain in a later post)

iliad/odyssey college au where theyre all just here and there and also everyone who dies either gets sent away or yk runs away from the shitty ass ilium university (helen is the art major queen and calypso stalks ody which we love/hate)

THE ILIAD/ODYSSEY RENAISSANCE COURT AU which isnt realy plot,,, its just fluff and fake dating and secret dating and also lady thetis who hates her sons prince consort patroclus and theres rlly just a lot of love and drama

[self-indulgent one comin in hot] single parent ody with calypso's kids nausithous and nausinous who has penelope as his kids' babysitter (not canon timeline-complicit bc who needs that shitfaced angst blast)

and ofc a hogwarts au just for funzies

just tag me on either ao3 or on here if u use these!

anyways,,, have fun! pls enjoy my half-asleep crazes

[jeoncasino]

Prospects | teaser |

Tired of life and all it had to bring for you, things take a turn when you find out two of your friends start to take a liking to you. With newfound emotions and a whole lot of drama, what happens when they start competing for your love?

Pairings: JJK x fem! reader [x KNJ]

Genre: college au, love triangle, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn, eventual smut.

Tags: rich! jjk, law student! jjk, dark hair! jjk, sweet! jjk, jealous! jjk, needy! jjk, obsessed! jjk, but also dom! jjk, slightly toxic! jjk, english major! knj, boy bsf! knj, co-worker! knj, husband material! knj, brown hair! knj, sweet! knj, jealous! knj, sad knj:(, everything’s so complicated and everyone’s in denial, jk's love language is physical touch and acts of service, jk has mommy issues so he's too attached to oc, joonie is so sweet i feel bad for him, gguk will try everything in his power to make oc his, ggukkie lowkey hates joonie lol, my characters are flawed don’t expect them to be perfect.

Warnings: jealousy.

⋆ †₊ Series Masterlist

Minors do not interact.

“So, what are we having today, Mr. Jeon? Will you get me a cookie again?” you teased, looking up at him from behind the counter with those captivating eyes Jeongguk couldn’t get enough of lately.

He smiled sheepishly. “You know you owe me eight bucks, right?”

You gasped. “Hello? You literally beg me to take your cookies!” Pointing a finger at him, you both laughed. Just as he was about to defend himself, a stern voice interrupted.

“Y/n, I can take over if you’d like. Go on your break now.” Your shift manager, Namjoon, appeared beside you, pushing you aside with his hip in a friendly manner, trying to lighten his previous tone. After apologizing to Jeongguk and saying it was your duty to follow your manager’s orders, you left.

Jeongguk was immediately irritated. This wasn’t the first time Namjoon had come between you two, always trying to distract you and take you away from him whenever he had the chance. It was obvious that the man you called your best friend didn’t plan on staying friends forever, and the only one who couldn’t see it was you. The funny part? Jeongguk didn’t know why that bothered him most.

Both men, irritated by each other’s presence, exchanged heavy, intense gazes. Namjoon spoke first. “Your order?”

Jeongguk leaned over the counter, gripping the edges so hard his knuckles turned white. “Pull this move one more time, and I’ll get you fired,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Mr. Jeon,” Namjoon mimicked, “I’m just trying to take your order.”

Jeongguk fumed. “Cut the act, Namjoon. You know you hate that she likes me, even after you’ve tried to throw dirt on me just to get a chance,” Jeongguk stepped back. “Which, by the way, is nonexistent.”

And just like that, Jeongguk broke the moment and walked out of the café.

Author: what do we think what do we thinkkk, yall liked it yall hated it lmkk. if any of you are interested in joining the taglist for these series also lmk!!

This is a work of fiction. The scenes, characters and events depicted are purely fictional and not intended to represent real-life procedures or individuals. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Do not use this story as your own.

@jeoncasino 2024 ©

[silliest-heartaches]

I saw your Errorink headcanons

How do you think they would get along? (Because y'know, he destroys, he protects)

tbh aside from input from the creators that they would be canon friends (IN MY DREAMS) i have a lot of thoughts on why they would make great friends actually:

First of all, there is the idea that they have to make peace with the innevitability that regardless of what they do or how they feel about creation or destruction respectively, the balance will keep itself going purely because thats how creation and destruction of fanprojects irl work!! no amount of encouragemnt from ink or pestering from error are ever going to truly eradicate/permanently keep the growth of creations and aus in the multiverse!! I like to imagine its the same kind of silliness that good omens has (ie angel/demon being friends and maybe lovers just having the oppositr kinda jobs) except they both actually enjoy their jobs lol

I also like to think that the way they view the multiverse is not so black and white as they first may appear!! We already know that error DOES have aus that hes fond of and will not destroy bc he has a certain attachment to it, making us see that he isnt just some mindless killer who destroys for the sake of destroying (i forgot what his actual reason was aside from the anomaly stuff so in my head its bc all the multiverses mess with his code and overload his system which is why he hates anomalies sm ((including original ut funnily enough? Bc ig thats why his suffering happened in the first place (to me at least))) he is just selfish and wants everyone else to adjust to his comfort

For ink, he also views pretty much everything else aside from him as characters, and is thus not as connected to them as you may think. The reasons on why he protects these aus is kind of selfish (to refill his vials + the satisfaction of feeling like a real living being But More compared to other characters within their own universes) despite the good guy facade he tries to make himself have hes also inherrently selfish with his reasonings on why he wants to protect the aus in the first place

(i also wanna say that alongside all of what im saying ink genuinely does hold a lot of love for the aus and has a lot of fondness for certain characters aus etc, but it is very much in a fiction vs reality sorta way, bc thats how he views himself vs every one else)

except error. (well. sort of. but it kinda goes both ways. hes close enough)

tldr despite feeling that they are above it all and seperate from the aus and characters that they create (canon info for both i think) i think they can (and do) acknowlege that the world is bigger than them both despite those feelings and find themselves kindred spirits in the sense that their views and pov of the world is very similar on a base level and see eachother as equals because of it (something i dont really see personally with p much every other sans)

like yes other sanses and characters can be aware of and have beef with the multiverse in whatever way they can but none will ever be as innherently connected to the multiverse and what created them as much as error and ink do,,,bc to most everyone else, it is simply a part of their lives to move through aus with, comapred to errorink having the aus be their reason for existing and acting (the other guys drama being centered around different things much smaller in scale compared to error and inks whole deal being with the entire multiverse as it exists if im making sense)

also also theyre both described as immature and insecure so. i think they can have a lot of fun having childish banter thats cute and for the funsies (both dramatic jokey guys please hear me out)

[grace-williams-xo]

Rating a selection of the (main) fandoms I’ve been in over the years. This is just for shits and giggles, please don’t start a war. I truly sincerely don’t care that much. Peace and love. [my current level of engagement with these fandoms varies]

One Direction 7/10 (fandom since 2013)

Absolutely cooked, but looking back, not that bad

Very powerful. Live in fear if we ever properly reunite again (the last big thing was July 2020 iykyk) bc we have reach everywhere and it never leaves our souls

Ahead of its time, but also an exact summary of 2012–2014

The solos who fight are the worst please fucking chill

The best fandom ever when it comes to tagging fics I won’t be debating this

Larries still exist in 2024 I can’t believe it either and they are the blueprint for all toxic shipping culture. Larries get a 1/10 and that 1 is for the good au fics only

5SOS 8/10 (fan since 2013, fandom since 2018)

Lots of overlap with directioners so have always kind of just been the smaller version of that fandom

Smaller fandoms can be less toxic but also sometimes 5sos fam is/was an absolute mess for no reason at all

Has been much more toxic since 2020 onwards because the guys have lives and people get way too bored

Some fans with directioner roots can’t comprehend that the band actually like each other and that’s just funny to me

Fletcher 6/10 (fan since 2017, fandom since 2020)

It was a great fandom until the first album cycle started, and then it got bad, and then Becky’s so hot made it worse, and then last year Fletcher herself joined a cult and drove it off a cliff

Currently it’s a mess of fans either forgiving her entirely, stanning Chappell Roan and Renee Rapp instead but continuing to tweet about her problems once a month, or—my favourite—forgiving her when she tours near them

Taylor Swift 4/10 (fan since 2009, fandom since 2015)

Gets worse with every passing second. Rep era? Great. Lover era? Good. Folklore/evermore? Alright. Fearless/Red TV? Tolerable. Midnights/Eras onwards? Abhorrent.

Gaylors will either save the world or end it

Some of the most insane dick riding for a fave I’ve ever seen in a fandom in my life please have some perspective

Hawaii Five-0 10/10 (since 2017)

The most active fandom for a dead tv show, I feel like I’m clout farming every time I post a fic

Never seen a more headcannoned ship in my life than mcdanno

No controversial debates

Overall very chill, but we all give the people writing genuine Steve/Lynn or Danny/Amberlissa fics side eye

Glee 9/10 (since 2018)

If you watched glee, it will come as no surprise that no one in this fandom is mentally okay

Way too passionate about ranking the seasons

Entirely cooked, but very self aware so we’re having fun

Bridgerton 7/10 (since Apr 2024)

The shipper fights take years off my life PLEASE relax I am begging you

Some of the fandom think rich straight white women are the most oppressed class of society

Good fics but you do not know how to tag smh

White Collar 19/10 (since Jan 2024)

The best!!!

No drama the only debate is about what happened in/after the finale, but it isn’t toxic

I lied the debate is are Peter/Neal romantic

Speaking of, no one protects spoilers like this fandom. We will go to battle to make sure new watchers don’t get the big reveals spoiled

Would’ve gotten a 20 but y’all, respectfully, mostly suck ass at tagging fics it’s maybe the worst fandom I’ve ever come across

[cerealmonster15]

okay. OKAY. ok. um. exposing my lore. also SORRY i rarely use color these days bc ive never had a good grasp on it so it’s just. very rough ideas here. a concept if u will.

anyway lore under the cut bc it’s long and all over the place and i do not expect anyone to have the patience LOL but it will be here. for ME. 😌

FOR THE RECORD before there was really an english twst fandom anywhere, i just had my friend in discord as we dove into translations off of youtube early on. these characters kinda were born from discord ramblings and goofy inside joke doodling BUT now im going. to share or whatever. i mentioned these two here but ill probs cover all that again here as i will try to be thorough!!!

anyway i have to give backstory in like 2 sections first. these guys [if u dont care then skip to the bullets for the actual character lore/story summaries], their main purpose for existence is CATERELLA soap opera drama. WHAT is caterella you might ask??? some people in the fanbase either headcanon or theorize or au-ify cater as being in a cinderella storyline bc he’s got the 2 pushy older sisters and kind of a more solemn side he hides while trying to be all upbeat around others yadda yadda. i thought that was FUN. i have. so many different branches of caterella aus/concepts involving other potential cater ships lol, but this is the only oc route. i have a really big web of all those potential ideas but it’s VERY erratic and would be a monster of a thing to show anyone. also it’s embarrassing LOL so it stays in discord. for now.

ANYWAY. first we have CHAR (left). He’s very loosely based off prince charming from cinderella. a friendly guy, in line for the throne or whatever, and I think a third year at RSA. He’s long lost childhood friends with CATER from when they were like, five years old or something, but lost contact when cater had to move away because of his dad’s work.

Canonically, Cater has said he’s had to move around every two years or so because of his dad’s job (i think he’s a banker or something? i dont remember exactly tho). Because of this, cater’s mentioned a lot that he’s not really had childhood friends that he grew up with, like how trey, riddle, and chenya have each other.

a while ago on twitter (or pixiv? idr) when i was scrounging for fanart, I came across fanart of cater and some RSA guy smiling and waving to him, and cater looked kinda like, surprised and startled?

now this was like a Year Ago and I can’t remember how much of it was in the image vs how much came from my inference vs how much i came up with later on my own -  according to my discord rambles, adeuce were in that pic in the background going :0, and it looked like they were in town shopping or something and had run into this guy. i feel like i either got the impression from the post that cater knew the guy and he was recognizing and happy to see cater, and cater was either like “uhh who r u” or “oh, uh, nice to see you too what a surprise??” and i was like oooo maybe hes a childhood friend. idr if the post or his design specified he was prince charming or if i did that myself to fit caterella better. i do not remember what the guy looked like in the post lol.

ANYWAY  from there i pretty much took off running with the concept of cater having a childhood friend that had a crush on him and then was all sad when he moved away, only to run into him year’s later on sage’s island when he was in town shopping and cater was out with ace and deuce.

here r some forbidden doodles from forever ago lol

ACE JUMPSCARE!!! anyway. not important. we’ll come back to this later!!

oh also his name LOL. since he was from prince charming i was looking up names that mean charming lol, and then i found this

and i thought yknow what. if snow white is allowed to be given a name like neigie leblanche, or VIL for the EVIL QUEEN,  i should be allowed prince char for prince charming klfjdsf

OKAY moving on FOR NOW to. lol. Dañarte. like i mentioned in the other post, that very much Is Not A Name and was kind of just a joke at first bc of my typo getting autocorrected.

sorry it’s BLURRY anyway he spawned into existance a few months later when i was trying to say fanart and autocorrect said Dañarte. which is just spanish for harm you. this was maybe while i was tyring to think of a name for char, my friend said it sounded like a fancy prince name, i looked up the meaning, my friend was like oh god it’s a threat, i remembered hans from frozen existed, and then that catrella line grew more branches. he eventually ended up in the role of char’s cousin and a second year[we’ll come back to that]. since hans had that whole thing of i think he was like one of 7 brothers or something he was all huffy about not having a place to rule of his own or whatever?? i was like hmm maybe he’s all jealous that his cousin’s in line for whatever throne they’re a royal family for 🤔 which flkjdslf yeah kinda ended up sounding like leona LOL dont worry about it that’s not the POINT the point is SOAP OPERA ROMANCE DRAMA!!!!

anyway. god this is already so much and i’ve barely gotten into it LOL UM... according to discord here’s a rundown of what my initial thoughts with char were:

rsa and nrc are having a mixer party thingy [hosted at RSA] and cater’s talking about how GRAMMABLE it’ll be and that he wants to find a fun outfit

he jokes(?) “oh maybe i’ll finally find my prince charming there lol~ since no one here appreciates caycay’s charm 😔”

riddle’s like 😒yea yea cater please pull your head out of the clouds and take the first years to town so you guys can do the shopping for the next unbirthday party

big brother caycay takes adeuce and probably other npcs off to do the shopping list stuff

MEANWHILE!!! at RSA, Char is hanging out with BESTIE CHENYA and talking about the mixer with nrc. chenya mentions he’s got some friends at NRC and pulls up magicam to show char some IMAGES- specifically he goes to CATER’S magicam bc riddle didnt really use magicam except that one time he made an acct to help cater study [ft in riddle’s dorm uniform story ❤] and idk trey probs doesnt post much besides maybe baking pics, dont worry about it, the important thing is that he pulls up a selfie caycay took with the heartslabyul family

[chenya voice] those are my childhood besties, trey and riddle, those are their funny little sons ace and deuce, and that one in the middle is cater, he’s fun too-

[char voice]  !!! the one with orange hair you said is cater? not cater diamond, is it????

chenya goes back to the main profile page and is like ya it says his last name’s diamond

char’s all 😳 and tells chenya he knows cater, because the two of them were childhood friends!! and wonders if he’ll see cater at the mixer....

chenya goes “oooo or we could go see him right now nyahahaha” bc BOOM cater JUST posted a selfie 15 seconds ago with his adeuce sons out shopping in town!!!!

they zoom to town, chenya jumpscares his pals bc it’s the law 😌 and then char comes up to cater and is like “it’s been so long cater!!! do you remember me??” and caters like 🤔 who’s this pretty boy talking to me 🤔

said pretty boy’s like “I’m char!!! we used to play together all the time when we were little!!! but then you had to move away 🥺“ and cater’s like “....hmmm.... i do that a lot- OH!!!!! I remember now!!! wow, let’s take a reunion selfie 🤗” and they do, it’s cute.

char’s like “haha glad you remember! we were each other’s first kiss after all 😌” and caters like UM 😳 and adeuce are watching like 😯😯 and chenyas 👀

and it’s just something goofy, char’s like “yea we were like five and we had a wedding on the playground and you kissed me 😊 and then we promised to get married for real when we were old enough hahaha” [<- partially inspired by my mother telling me when i was like 2 i ‘married’ my bestie on the playground. i have no memory of this but jklsdfsd ANYWAY]

cater’s all “ahahaaaa omg that’s sooo embarrassing i cant believe you remember that!!!” and char says something like “oh yea of course I do! i had like the biggest crush on you back then and i was soooo sad when you moved away forever 🥺” and caters like oh, ummmmm 👍

still they exchange magicams/numbers/whatever and go about their business with adeuce pestering cater for the rest of the trip like the nosy little brothers they are

fast forward to heartslabyul returning to the dorm and ace [like in the doodle up there ^ lol] LOUDLY barges in shouting something like “CATER HAS A BOOOOOOOOOOYYYYFRIIIIEEEEEEENDDDDDDDD!!!!!!” and cater’s all flustered and swatting at him like ace!!! no!!!! 😤😤

riddle n trey are just ?????? confused

cater’s just like ��we just ran into an old friend of mine who goes to RSA now, and he asked me to be his date to the mixer, that’s all!!!!”

juice is just like “👀diamond senpai is this the Prince Charming™ you were talking about 👀” and caters like “🤔 i was totes kidding before but this totally does feel like something ROMANTIC out of a fairytale doesn’t it? haha how fun~”

POTENTIAL AU ALTERNATE BRANCH: for some maybe light angst, a potential trey route, trey’s either quietly listening like oh.... 💔💔💔 bc secretly HE had wanted to ask cater to be his date to the mixer. OR maybe he’s feeling some sadness but isnt sure why, talks to riddle alone later about it and is all “idk what it is with me, i guess i just assumed cater would be with us at the event like the three of us usually are, but i guess... he will be busy if he has a date....” and riddle has NO romance experience in his LIFE so hes just like “hmm yes i suppose it will be different to be at an event without cater constantly at our sides, but i am sure he will still hunt us down for his ‘memories’ to take pictures of, like always 😌“ and they just kinda laugh it off for the time being. but then cater’s texting this boy more and trey’s getting increasingly more restless and coming to terms w/the fact that hes PINING after his BESTIE!!! it’s ok in this branch they would be endgame sorry char

i also had a side note of other alternative branches for vil and malleus being the endgame, like aduece gossip about cater to the first year group and somehow it makes it back to them via epel or sebek. tho vil doesnt get the full story at first and just hears some pretty rsa guy asked cater out  to the mixer and hes like “was it neige 😠😒” but anyway this aint about these guys those are just. some of many caterella alts. not even all the alts are char related LOL anyway

so that’s as far as I had for that specific concept before Dañarte spawned.  heres another doodle of them

ok onto evil cousin guy!!

Dañarte starts as an RSA guy but eventually will change to NRC, mirroring how hans was like ‘ooo im a nice charming prince u can trust me’ and then went all jk im a villain bye

cousin to char, second year, they more or less maybe grew up together but Dañarte never met cater or if he did it wasnt often so they wouldnt remember or know each other

Dañarte  and cater meet either at the aforementioned mixer or just at RSA if cater’s over there hanging out with Char and catching up

Dañarte is all charming and sparkly like most RSA students so he and Cater hit it off real fast 😉✨ and Char’s like, oh, uhhh, ok 😅??

cater either doesnt know Char’s interested in him again or he’s just not sure what to make of it, Dañarte does know Char’s into Cater and deliberately steals him away bc he resents his cousin. petty teenager drama lol

so ya potential route, Dañarte ends up dating cater for a while. but then [VAGUE SITUATIONS] occur and they have relationship problems and break up, leaving caycay HEARTBROKEN

WHICH!! could lead to more au branching LOL for who potentially is the one to try and heal caycay’s heart, mainly either Char, Trey, or.... SURPRISE, IDIA!!! (also i guess i mentioned vil and malleus earlier lol, all these au ideas came over the course of many months so i tended to forget details 😌)

i hear you going “what? huh?? when did idia get here!???!?!?!” shh. shhh. this post required me, forced my hand even, to ramble about all my aus/unposted fanfiction lol. i do have some mini fanfiction about the idia route that never left discord bc it’s so au specific hehehe but anyway, idia right?

ok taking a break from bullets while we detour here. so back when i was looking for names for char, i found another name meaning charming: eppa! it was cute 😌 this part spawned from more discord glitching and my friend’s idea from there- that eppa is just a fake name that IDIA is using to talk to cater on magicam or whatever bc he’s shy and hiding behind a fake prince charming [prince eppa of rsa!!] persona. this could just be a branch on its own w/o those dudes up there^ OR as I mentioned, he could be an alternative person for caycay to end up with after getting his heart broken. I wrote a little bit of unpublished fic and have a few doodles that follow this storyline lol, but we’ll get back to that later maybe.

ok but basically things could end there OR another bonus for MORE soap opera drama: for whatever reason that i never came up with, Dañarte gets KICKED OUT OF RSA!!!! or just transfers for some reason idk.

i debated on having him in scarabia or pomefiore, but ultimately went with scarabia, and here’s why I said he’d probably be a second year lol

because now he’s with kalim and jamil!!! at first kalim’s like “oh!!! a new friend nice to meet you!!!” but then quickly discovers at pop music club that this is in fact the same Dañarte that cater dated and broke his heart!!! oh no!!!

and cater’s like oh god!! my ex goes to school here now!! FUCK!!

but never fear. he claims he’s turned over a new leaf. that he will be civil. he just wants to start over and be a good boy 😌

cater is hesitant, but doesn’t wanna make a fuss. kalim wants to believe in the good in everyone and wants to give him a chance. and JAMIL who is ALSO HERE bc scarabia, does NOT trust this guy and does NOT want to leave him around kalim alone so he’s making an effort to be around the two of them a lot

basically jamil and Dañarte kinda suss each other out pretty fast as being people who hide their true intentions well under a facade of being polite and agreeable. idk if he’d show up pre or post overblot tho

so he spends a loooot of time with kalim and by extension jamil. and he’s also hovering around cater a lot

circling back to the idia thing lol, in some of the little fics i wrote for this au, i had written from i think idia’s pov and it was snippets that were basically:

idia likes cater, azul likes jamil [lol surprise they showed up in this eventually] and theyre board game buddies that kinda poke at each other about it. idia’s talking to cater behind the prince eppa account, and azul’s the only one that knows the secret. idia and cater bond via the account, idia learns more about cater’s melancholic side, they get really close, convince each other to go to class more in solidarity, cater sometimes vents to ‘eppa’ about the problems he’s having with his BOYFRIEND Dañarte... but idia is there to support caycay bc he’s SPECIAL <3 anyway then cater and Dañarte break up, idia and azul bully each other about how they’re afraid of making a move, blah blah blah. eventually cater’s gossiping to idia in class about how azul asked jamil on a date [i made a specific ref to my fic that i DID publish, Fake It Til We Make It 😌 but that’s not importantdsjlfd], the topic of valentine’s day comes up, cater mentions boohoo caycay is single on valentines day again... and idia has worked up the courage to invite cater to ignihyde’s movie night! hooray bonding irl and not behind the eppa mask!!! ohh but then. fast forward a little? cater’s talking to idia, hes like wow u and i have gotten closer lately, can i talk to u about something personal? u see... my ex asked me out. and i said id think about it 😔 cue heartbreak for idia again!! idia goes to board game club SAD. azul is also there and is like “oh sulking solidarity? i gotchu bro. jamil dumped me :’)” and idia’s like uhhhh fuck azul looks like he’s trying not to cry... wanna play VR games so we can escape reality... and they do 😌

^that’s where the written part ended. i have a doodle somewhere of like. even more soap opera drama. like i think Dañarte had asked cater out and cater was gonna give him a chance, but then ohhh noo guess what? cater’s telling pop music club.... and he’s like “ya Dañarte asked me out again-” and kalim FREEZES. hes like WAIT WHAT. WHAT. OH NO. bc uhhh turns out!!! Dañarte also just asked jamil out. WHAT THE!!! and the only reason jamil said YES(OH NO!!!) was bc he was sulking about his break up with azul 😔 a situation of jamil and azul fighting, breaking up, but still really really missing each other wahhhh making bad choicesssss

i dont think i ever went past there LOL but in my head and heart, that specific branch would have to be a happy ending for idia/cater and jamil/azul, Dañarte is simply there to cause problems on purpose

i also had a side reason, like a bonus for Dañarte’s motives (he’s not that deep a character lol this is mostly just goofs and giggles here) hes basically like “grr i resent my cousin so im going to do everything i can to sabotage his happiness. just because i guess. also maybe i should just become famous on the internet MYSELF since i cant be a cool royal, ill just use my title and charisma, and ill steal the fans of popular people like neige and vil - ooh looks like my dumb cousin’s crush is a fan of them both, excellent. hmm so is this rook person what- oh god no he’s weird and scary i’ll stick to terrorizing cater. anyway-” but i kinda didn’t stick with the magicam thing lol. just like a potential extra bit.

wait i found a snippet ^ from discord im just gonna copy/paste bc im getting lazy

‘ I have a scene in my head of pop music club going to do a small performance sometime after dañarte transferred to scarabia , and Kalim is torn bc on one hand he’s the housewarden and must make everyone feel welcome! But I’m the other hand that’s caters mean ex  but on the other hand again he seems so nice and apologetic   what do I do!! So Kalim ends up coming up to cater right before their performance and is like “ummmmm don’t be mad but I kind of invited dañarte ” and caters like KALIM WHY  and kalims like IM SORRY HE SEEMED SO SAD AND REALLY WANTED TO SEE YOU PLAY They’re loudly stressing out off in the corner, meanwhile dañarte  is wandering around the audience with Jamil like fellow scarabia buddy I hope u don’t mind if I hang around u Jamils like  whatever but we have to sit… waaaaay over here, bc he saw tako and idia and he’s still in his awkward confusing feelings heartbreak stage with azul, And azul+ idia are at the show together just In Distresss'

okokok uhhhhh i  think ive done enough talking wanna see more doodles and erratic notes

char and caycay reunited!!! char didnt actually end up getting much spotlight LOL he doesn’t have a lot of personality aside from Sweet Gentle Puppy. sorry bestie you got sidelined for drama jklfdskfl

#notatako is a side joke w/my friend ignore that kldfjdls but. caycay seeing pretty man Dañarte  but hasnt met him yet

Dañarte   jumpscare, looming over char’s phone when char’s just met back up with cater and has been Texting Him A Lot but hasnt invited him over yet

the boys being exes or something, and me trying to figure out what dorm he’d be in

doodle from when i brielfy forgot  Dañarte was supposed to start at RSA lol, here’s him and jamil if they’d met as first years before jamil’s intentions were revealed with his overblot

Dañarte grumbling evilly to himself at RSA and getting chenya jumpscared -> caycay and the boys!!!

this is what it looked like when i tried to timeline plot some story ages ago LOL, ft silly little lad faces, an illustrated journey

[idk if u can read that maybe if u full view the image lol] basically this is the scene of jamil and azul having newly broken up and being all sad about it, Dañarte is all “hehehe give me a chance jamil we could be so great together” and jamil, who normally just ignores Dañarte and doesn’t fall for his FALSE CHARM, is at a WEAKER LOW POINT bc he REALLY MISSES AZUL but he doesnt wanna ADMIT that he misses azul, and now Dañarte just sounded Just Like Azul, and he’s just asked jamil out, and azul is Right There Looking At Jamil bc he was walking by and heard Dañarte ask him out... jamil’s like 😔fine sure whatever 😔 and azuls like ..... 💔💔💔

SAD! anyway, jsdlfjkds. sorry caycay jamil and azul got shoved into ur soap opera. it’s fine. jamil/azul would make up with each other eventually somehow. cater would find Real Love elsewhere. IT’S FINE!! no perma angst in my house ALLOWED!!! but it’s fun to play with. temporarily.

i thought i had a doodle somewhere of kalim going 0_0 when jamil told kalim that  Dañarte  asked him out, right after cater just told kalim the same [or vice versa idr] but i CANT FIND IT!!! it’s not important tho it’s literally Just That lol. i think. 🤔

anyway. dear lord. i doubt anyone is going to read all of this LOL, maybe skimming or skipping around if im lucky 🧡 those are my like, ‘canon compliant’ twst ocs i guess. something like that. the only other twst related ocs i have [FOR NOW]  are fankids my friend and i made of ships for funsies flkdsjfl okay. thank u for reading.  if anyone did LOL if i were you i’d just look at the pictures and live with being confused 🧡

OK THANKS BYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!