#lol cash money isn’t real it doesn’t count

[lazyspeedy]

man..

[soramei]

From Resentment (hhj)

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader (she/her)

Summary: After a fated meeting involving a cute and fluffy puppy, you found yourself drawn to Hwang Hyunjin: the school prince. Everybody in high school loved him. It was hard not to. Not only was he rich, smart, and athletic, but he was also incredibly kind-hearted.

However, one day seemingly out of the blue, everything that you thought Hyunjin was came crashing down.

Now a freshman in university, you were excited to live out your dreams. That was, until Hyunjin came hurtling back into your life like an uncontrolled meteor. His presence threw a curveball on all your plans, and would eventually change your perspective on everything that you thought you knew.

Genre: studentl!hyunjin au, angst, enemies to lovers

Warnings: cursing, tw puking

Word Count: 8.8k

Masterlist

A/N: Not an Intentional update but a hyunjin oneshot!! disclaimer: no aspect of hyunjins personality here was drawn from real life — irl hyunjin is a ray of sunshine <3

You looked at your math homework, proud that you got all the answers correct. Since it was a slow afternoon at your job today, you had extra time to focus on your homework. The boss at the convenience store you worked at allowed you to have your homework out, as long as it was hidden behind the cash register.

As you stared at the rest of your homework, you started to feel the weight of tenth grade pile up on you. Because it was your first year of high school, you were still trying to adjust to everything; your grades, your teachers, and all the new students walking around the halls.

You stuffed the rest of your homework in your backpack. It was the end of your shift, and you wanted to go home as soon as possible to start with the rest of your studying. Crap. No matter how hard you tried to zip up your backpack, it wouldn’t close. After trying one more time, the zipper tore from your backpack.

You cursed under your breath. You couldn’t afford to buy a new backpack right now.

You had just been able to afford your new school uniform by taking up extra shifts at the convenience store, and you still needed money for your grandmother’s prescriptions. You sighed, annoyed to have another monetary stressor weighing on your shoulders.

Walking outside with your now torn backpack, your eyes widened at the group of boys in front of you. You immediately recognized them from behind.

The school princes. These three seniors were all known for three things: being extremely smart, handsome, and talented.

On the left was Seungmin, and from what you’ve heard, he was the smart and quiet one. He was always helping the teachers, being the class president and all. Any time a girl or a boy needed academic help, Seungmin was there and happy to assist.

The person on the right was Jisung. With his charming and charismatic personality, he had dated tens upon tens of girls in his grade. Just in the last year. It helped that he was really good looking — and also stinkin’ rich. His father was a notorious restaurateur, and with him being the first son, he was basically given unlimited spending rights.

The only person richer than Jisung was the boy in the center of them both: Hwang Hyunjin. This boy was the school prince. The prince of princes. He somehow managed to participate in music clubs, engage in study groups, and captain the soccer team all the while keeping up excellent grades. Every girl that Jisung had dated was said to have been rejected by Hyunjin first. That was his only flaw: he was notoriously cold to any and all romantic confessions.

You followed behind the three princes, staring at your torn up sneakers. You knew you didn’t exist in their world, but even being near three handsome and rich teenage boys made you nervous.

Suddenly, you heard a whimper coming from behind a bush to the left of you. It sounded like a hurt animal.

Worried and curious, you walked over to the bush to see what it was.

It was a puppy. Small and fluffy, it looked up at you with it’s beady black eyes and cried out. His paw was bleeding.

You panicked. Having never seen a hurt puppy before, you had no idea what to do. You called out for help.

“Help!” you cried, hoping that somebody had heard your call for help. You desperately wanted to help this hurt puppy, but you hesitated to touch it, afraid that you would hurt the animal even more.

The puppy howled in pain, making your panic rise. You were about to call out for help again, when you heard somebody running up behind you.

“What is it?” The voice asked.

“I-I don’t know. I just saw this dog here, and-and his paw is bleeding,” you anxiously stuttered.

“Here, let me take a look.”

You heard the voice behind you, so you shuffled over to make room.

It was Hwang Hyunjin. The person that responded to your cry for help was the most popular and well-liked person in the school. You were shocked, a bit intimidated actually, so you silently moved to the side for him. His black hair shone in the sunlight as he bent down to examine the dog.

“Come here, boy,” he chirped. The puppy listened, and started limping to him. “Something hurt you, didn’t it.”

He stood up, picking the puppy up along with him.

“C’mon,” he gestured with his head, “my vet isn’t too far from here actually. We can make it by walking.”

You silently nodded and followed him.

He was right. The walk to the veterinarian clinic, though very awkward, wasn’t too far. The clinic was empty at this time of day, with the receptionist being the only person in the room.

“Hyunjin! Always a pleasure,” the receptionist beamed. It seemed like Hyunjin’s likeability wasn’t only confined to your school. “My, what do we have here?”

“There’s something wrong with his paw,” Hyunjin tried to show the receptionist where the blood was coming from, “is the doctor free right now?”

“As a matter of fact, he is,” the receptionist said whilst checking the schedule. “I’ll take this little boy to the back where he can get prepped for the veterinarian.”

Hyunjin handed the puppy carefully to the receptionist. The receptionist took out a crate for the dog, put him in, and then disappeared through the back door. The two of you were now left alone in the waiting room.

“Uhm,” you coughed, “thank you. I know you probably want to get back to your friends, so you can leave now.”

“No, I’ll stay,” he looked at you and smiled, “those idiots are just playing LOL at the PC room anyways. Plus, I want to see how this little boy turns out.”

You smiled back at him, nodding your head. A few moments of awkward silence passed.

“I’m Hyunjin by the way,” he said.

“I know. I’m Y/n.”

“You’re in your first year, right?” he said, looking at the colour of your uniform.

“Yeah, it’s so hard to get used to though. I’m trying my best with my homework, but I think this school stuff just doesn’t click with me,” you rambled.

“Oh?”

“I want to go into dance. I’ve never been able to afford professional lessons, but I’ve always wanted to go to university for dance. My grandparents said they would let me if my school grades were high.” You didn’t know why you were giving your life story to Hyunjin. He just had this natural charisma that made you want to spill everything to him. It was the way he looked at you with those cat-like eyes.

“I know what you mean. It took me forever to convince my parents for me to major in dance. I got in by early admittance, but I’m sure they still have their reservations about my major.”

“You’re majoring in dance?” you asked, eyes wide.

He smiled. “I’ve loved dancing ever since I could remember. It’s my passion, and truthfully, the only thing I’ve got going for me.”

You were shocked. At school, Hyunjin was known for so many things other than dancing. Hell, you didn’t even know he enjoyed dancing and you thought you’d heard everything about him already.

The two of you chatted for a while longer before the vet came out with the now happy looking dog.

“It seemed like this little guy got into a fight with something, and he got a pretty large gash on his paw. Luckily, it wasn’t bleeding too much so I just gave him some anaesthetic and stitched it right up.”

You sighed in relief. “Thank god he isn’t too hurt.”

“Yes, it’s good that it wasn’t too bad,” the veterinarian agreed. “I’m assuming this is your dog? As soon as you finish with the bill, I can release this little guy and the both of you are ready to go.”

Oh yeah. The bill.

Although you knew you couldn’t afford to pay the vet bill, you didn’t know where this little dog would go if you couldn’t take him home. You did the mental calculations, and if you worked some extra shifts, you could probably be able to pick up the bill today. Buying a new backpack could be saved for another day.

“Sure, where can I pay?” you asked.

“Just over by the receptionist.” The veterinarian pointed.

You walked over to the receptionist, and she handed the bill over to you.

You almost fainted.

Just the anaesthetic and the stitches alone cost over two hundred dollars. This was extremely over your budget, and probably even more than the amount in your savings. You felt uneasy.

“Uhm, actually, I don’t think I can-”

“Do you take cash?”

Hyunjin had interrupted you, walked up to the receptionist, and pulled out his wallet. He peaked over your shoulder and took out a huge wad of cash to hand to the receptionist.

“Hyunjin, you don’t have to,” you begged. You felt bad that this guy you didn’t even know had just offered to cover you for over two hundred dollars.

“Think of it as a good luck gift from a fellow dancer.” He smiled.

That was when it clicked. You didn’t know what clicked, but it just did. It was his smile. It was the way the corners of his eyes crinkled up and how the corners of his lips pinched at the end. You now understood why all the girls at school were in love with him. He was quite literally perfect.

You thanked him profusely, even after the two of you had left the clinic. With the dog in your hand, you walked side by side with Hyunjin.

“So,” he started, “have you thought of a name for this guy yet?”

Oh yeah — he was your dog now. “Hmm, I don’t know yet.”

“What about Coco?”

“Coco?”

“Yeah, let’s see if he likes it.” Hyunjin leaned in and cooed at the little puppy. “Hi, little Coco!”

The puppy’s eyes lit up, and with his tongue stretched out, he started panting.

“I guess he likes it,” Hyunjin smiled. God, his smile could melt all of Antarctica.

“Coco it is.” You poked at Coco’s nose.

Hyunjin was about to say something back to you when his phone buzzed. He took a peak, rolled his eyes, then smiled. “My friends are god awful at games. I swear, they can’t even win one round without me. You’re okay with going home alone?”

He was going to walk you home? Could he be any more perfect?

You nodded your head. “Thank you, Hyunjin. I’ll pay you back for the bill one day.”

“No need,” he winked. “Like I said, it’s a good luck gift. Oh, and you can ask me if you need help with any school work. Anything to help a fellow dancer.”

He waved goodbye, then went running off in the other direction. You held Coco close to you, heart pounding. Although you didn’t want to be like all the other girls who fell for him, you felt like you were already falling for Hyunjin.

-

The next day, you had planned to go shopping for dog supplies after school. After a really long and arduous debate with yourself, you decided to sacrifice all of your savings in order to buy everything that Coco needed. You knew Hyunjin owned a dog himself, so throughout the whole day, you worked up the nerve to ask Hyunjin to come with you.

At the end of last period, you gathered all your stuff from your desk and headed to the soccer field where you knew Hyunjin and his friends would be. Whilst you crossed the field, you noticed Jisung staring at you. You found his stare intimidating, but you tried to brush it off. He then whispered something in Hyunjin’s ear.

“Hi, Hyunjin,” you said anxiously, biting your lip. “Umm, do you want to come with me to shop for Coco?”

He stared at you for a couple seconds, then, a look of disgust appeared on his face. “Why? So you can use my wallet again?”

You stared back at him, wide eyed. Who was this person? It wasn’t the Hyunjin that so graciously helped you out yesterday.

“W-what? No!” you exclaimed. “I-I just wanted your opinion…”

“Sure,” Hyunjin smirked coldly, “opinion my ass.”

“Hyunjin,” tears were pooling in your eyes, “I don’t understand.”

“If you need money so much, here.” He reached in his pocket and turned up a wad of cash, throwing it at your feet. “Just don’t come to me next time. And buy yourself a new pair of shoes while you’re at it.”

You looked down at the money, trying to hold back your tears. Why was Hyunjin being like this? You didn’t understand. His two jockeys beside him didn’t even bother to stop him. As you tried to stop yourself from crying, you felt your sadness turn into rage.

“I don’t need your stupid money,” you said, kicking the cash back to him. “Maybe you can use your daddy’s money to buy yourself a new personality.”

Hyunjin’s two friends tried to hold back their snickers at your words. Hyunjin heard, turned around, and gave them both death stares.

You didn’t bother to listen to whatever he was going to say next and simply stomped away, rage burning inside you. Everything about him was a lie. His charming and charismatic personality, his generosity, his kindness. They were all lies. He really was nothing but a rich, spoiled boy living with his father’s money.

There was rage behind every step you took. Wiping away your tears, you headed to your locker. You didn’t need him anyways; it was better to realize his true personality earlier rather than later. Hands shaking from anger, you dialed the combination to your locker.

“Hey, sorry about what happened earlier.” A voice came from behind you. “He can be a real jerk sometimes.”

It was Jisung. You rolled your eyes. You didn’t want to see him either.

“Why didn’t you do anything about it then?” Your voice came out shaky. It was obvious that you had cried.

“Once he starts, there’s no stopping him. It’s usually better to let him finish uninterrupted, or else he will get more mad.”

“Oh,” you said. Your hatred for Hyunjin grew even more.

“I could come with you, though. I don’t know much about dogs, but I can help you carry your bags.”

“I don’t know…”

“C’mon, no way you can carry everything by yourself.”

You hesitated. “Okay, I guess.”

And so, you left for the pet store with Jisung, still confused about everything that had happened. It was strange with him. He was nice and cracked a joke every now and then, but it was just different from being with Hyunjin. At least he was nice, you thought.

Your trip went well. You managed to buy everything you needed for Coco. In a turn of events, Jisung had actually come in handy as he offered to carry the huge bag of dog food you bought. He even offered to buy you a coffee.

“Thanks for all your help, Jisung.” You stood outside the door of your apartment, smiling at him.

“No problem, gives me an excuse to work out my guns.” He pretended to flex his arms.

You choked back a laugh.

“You should get going now. It’s late,” you said.

“Alright,” he started to leave. “Hey, if you see me in the halls, feel free to say hi.”

You nodded and waved to him as he turned and walked away, remembering his words. Every time you saw Jisung in the school hallways, you gave him a small wave in which he happily returned. However, whenever you saw him walking with Hyunjin, you made sure to purposely avoid them. You didn’t want any negativity in your life.

You kept up the waves, and soon, waves turned to small conversations which soon turned to flirting. By the end of the semester, you and Jisung somehow ended up as a couple. Jisung was polite and sweet, unlike a certain person. With every free moment you had, you hung out with Jisung — all the while avoiding Hyunjin.

The two of you stayed a couple for the rest of Jisung’s senior year. Somehow, the two of you had even kept up your relationship throughout your whole high school experience. It was hard at times as he went to university, but with a lot of effort, you had made your relationship work out. You barely had time to talk with him, but you enjoyed the little time that you did have. Jisung had never even once mentioned Hyunjin when you were together, and with time, you had totally forgotten about that jerk. You weren’t even sure if they were still friends.

You worked hard in school and reaped all the benefits. Your rank had consistently been in the top twenties amongst all the other students, and you even had time to practice your dancing. You remembered the day that you received your acceptance letter from university. Hands shaking, you had barely managed to open the letter all the way before you screamed. You had gotten into university with your dream major: dance.

Because of your excellent grades, you were able to pay a lot of your tuition with scholarship money alone. You hesitantly decided to quit your job at the convenience store to focus on university. Although quitting meant that your bank account would take a big hit, you decided that it would be best in the long run. There was a lot in your savings, and you even had a little extra to buy a new outfit for your first day of school.

Jisung had been busy on the first day of university. He had previously promised to show you around campus, but with him being a no-show, you wandered around by yourself to try to find your classes. You had trouble with the campus map at first, but after walking around for a bit, you were able to find all your classes with ease.

Your first few classes were a snore. Because they were all theory, you had to down two cups of coffee in order to stay awake. Somehow, you managed to take coherent notes despite being bored out of your mind. You just wanted to dance.

The good thing was, after sitting through many classes, your time to dance finally came. Your last class of the day was an introduction to dance course, and you couldn’t wait to go. You wanted to know your teacher, your peers, and most importantly, express yourself.

The dance class was in a studio in the university’s fitness center. It was huge, way bigger than the tiny gym in your high school. Upon entering the studio, you were immediately met with the sight of students, exactly like you, already stretching. You chose a spot in the room and started stretching as well, making good use of your time before the instructor comes in.

After some time, most of the students — including you — had finished stretching and were sitting in silence waiting for the instructor. The door swung open, breaking the silence. The instructor had come in.

“Hello new students,” he said, “welcome to Dance 100. Today, I will go through the curriculum with you as well as introduce your final project.”

The instructor whipped out a projection of the curriculum and started explaining the purpose of the course, what you would be graded on, and how you would be graded. He then read through his class expectations before moving to your final project.

“This final project will act in place of a final exam,” he explained. “You will be required to create a dance that includes everything we’ve learned in class and write an essay explaining all the elements in your dance. It will be worth half your grade.”

The class gasped in surprise. Not only did this project sound extremely difficult for a first year course, but the fact that it was worth half your grade made it borderline unfair.

“I know it might seem difficult, but worry not, you won’t be doing this alone. Every year, the first year dance students get mentored by the third year dance students for the final project. Each student has already been assigned a random mentor which will be introduced this class.”

The whole class murmured, talking amongst themselves and expressing their opinions on this project. It was definitely an interesting project. You hoped that you would be paired with a good mentor that would actually care about how well you did.

There was a knock on the door.

“Ah, this must be them.” Your instructor opened the door and a wave of third years came flooding in. Each one of them had a name tag pinned on their shirts. “Class, these are the third year students.”

You all politely greeted them.

“Now,” the instructor continued, “I will put the class list on the projector, and each of your names will correspond to a third year mentor.”

The instructor put out the list for display. You scanned down the list of names, eventually finding yours. Following the dots to your corresponding mentor, you almost choked on air when you saw yours.

It was Hwang Hyunjin.

You were at a loss for words. Just when you thought he was out of your life forever, the man that was so incredibly mean to you — the man you hated with your whole soul — was now your mentor. Just the thought of being in the same room as him filled you with disgust.

You scanned the sea of third year students, and your eyes immediately found him. He was staring back at you with the same shocked expression that you had on.

He looked different. Not only had he grown taller, but he had lost all his baby fat as well. His hair was different too. It was bleached blond and it almost hit his shoulders. What was the same, however, was his intense stare and his plump lips.

You walked over to him.

“You look different.” His eyes scanned up and down.

“So do you.” You clenched your jaw and sighed. “I guess we have to work together.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said flatly.

“Listen,” you copied his tone, “I’m not excited about this either, but I want to get a good grade for this class. If you don’t wanna help me, just say so and I’ll just work alone on this.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he rolled his eyes, “this is part of my grade too. I can’t let you fuck this up for the both of us.”

You rolled your eyes back at him and pressed your lips in a thin line. Ignoring what he said, you asked, “where do we start?”

“Let’s find a time to meet every week.” He pulled out the newest iPad model from his bag. Of course he would have the newest iPad. “I’m busy every day except Saturday, so let’s meet then.”

Way to consider your opinion. He was lucky that you weren’t busy on the weekends.

As Hyunjin worked on sorting his schedule, you took your time to look at how he had changed. With his hair blonde, he looked like a completely different person. You didn’t understand why he kept his hair long though. It kept falling in his eyes.

“Stop staring at me. It’s freaking me out.” He narrowed his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t.” You crossed your arms, defending yourself.

“Whatever.” He tucked his hair behind his ear and put his iPad back in his bag. “Don’t be late on Saturday.”

And with that, he left. You looked around the class. Most of the other students were still with their mentors, presumably getting to know each other and discussing the project. You almost wanted to ask your instructor to switch with somebody else, but that would mean passing on the nightmare known as Hwang Hyunjin onto a perfectly innocent person. You had your moments, but you weren’t evil.

The interaction with Hyunjin had left you in a sour mood for the rest of the day. You tried to study, but you were too distracted by the thought of having to work with that monstrosity for a whole semester. It was worth so much of your grade, too. You had just hoped that Hyunjin was as good at dance as he previously told you. You remembered him saying how dance was his passion in life. That was when you still liked him. Who knows, maybe he only said that so he could play you like every other girl he played with.

For the rest of the week, whenever you thought of the dance project, you were filled with dread. You tried to ignore it, and sometimes it worked, but most of the time it kept reappearing in your mind like a virus. The way Hyunjin had infected your mind bothered you to no end.

Time passed fast though, and before you knew it, Saturday had already come. Searching through your closet, you picked out a simple outfit for practice today. You slid on your tattered old sneakers and headed off to the studio that Hyunjin had told you to go to.

Entering the dance studio, you noticed that you were right on time. However, Hyunjin was not. Great… He made such a big deal over you being on time that he himself forgot to be punctual. You sat on the wood floors and started to do some stretches to warm up.

Eventually, after you finished your stretching, he entered the studio. With a girl. Holding a textbook, Hyunjin handed it to the girl and put on his signature deceitful smile. His ugly, perfect smile. The girl batted her eyes and waved her fingers goodbye before strolling out the door. You rolled your eyes at this, feeling bad for the girl. Hyunjin was playing her right in front of her own eyes and she didn’t even realize it.

“Were you really late because of a girl?” you sneered.

“Why do you care?” he retorted, flinging his bag to the corner of the room.

“I don’t.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Not wanting to waste time with that childish banter, you decided to end the conversation then and there. “Okay, well anyways, I’ll show you what I learned in class this week.”

Hooking up your phone to the speaker, you chose the song that you’ve been practicing with for the whole week. As the song progressed, you found it hard to not get lost in the music. Just dancing was the easy part; incorporating everything learned in class was another story. Although it was fairly difficult, you thought you executed everything very well as the song came to an end. Finishing up, you panted from exhaustion and looked at Hyunjin for his comments.

He stood, with his arms crossed across his torso, leaning against the speaker. There was a blank expression on his face.

“Not bad.” He started to walk up to you.

“But?”

“But you’re too stiff. You’re too focused on perfectly executing the technical moves that you forget to just move your body. Do what you did half-way through the song again.”

You turned the music on, trying to do the dance with Hyunjin’s criticisms in mind. Looking in the mirror, you did your best to show as much emotion as possible, all the while moving more fluidly. The room was filled with heavy bass and the squeaks from your sneakers.

Suddenly, the music was abruptly cut off.

Hyunjin had stopped the music and was making his way over, face still unreadable.

“You’re still trying too hard and it shows.” Hyunjin shook his head.

Clenching your jaw, you did your best to hold back your anger. Were you just not supposed to try? This annoyed you. Just because he didn’t need to try to be good at anything didn’t mean you couldn’t.

“Well,” you tried to say calmly, “how can I do this then?”

“You have to relax.” He put one hand on your hip and started to guide you. “Don’t focus on each individual aspect, but try to imagine everything as a whole. Then, things will come naturally.”

You followed his hand, allowing Hyunjin to guide you to his own rhythm. After a while, every movement felt so fluid and you didn’t even notice that your face started to match your movements. Glancing at your reflection, you gasped, noticing how different your dancing looked. You whipped your head to face Hyunjin, the two of your inches apart and breathing heavily.

“See,” he mumbled, looking down at you. “Once you stop thinking, everything just comes naturally.”

You looked back at the person inches away from you. It almost felt as if he was being kind. But you knew the type of person he was. You weren’t going to let this happen again. Snapping out of what weird trance you were in, you pushed him away in an act of self perseverance.

He didn’t say anything.

“I’ll try again,” you said.

Hyunjin strolled over to the speaker and turned on the music. This time, you didn’t think about anything you learned in class or Hyunjin’s criticisms. You just trusted in your body. Everything else was blank.

Taking a step forward while still in your trance, your shoe lost its grip on the floor, causing you to fall right on your knee. You cried in pain, holding on to your knee.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin hissed. He ran over and bent down to your level. “Can you move it?”

“I think so.” You tried to straighten your knee. It hurt, but you were still able to do it. There would most likely be a nasty bruise there the next morning.

“You’re still wearing those scraps that you call shoes? They’re literally coming apart at the seams. This is going to happen again if you don’t get new ones.”

You blushed in embarrassment from his remarks. “I’m not going to spend money on things that I don’t need.”

“Well, you need shoes. Just go buy a new pair later.”

Was he being serious? Or was he just spoiled?

“Hyunjin, not everybody can just go spend money whenever they want,” you loudly sighed. “Unlike you, I need to consider my budget for most things.”

“Well, why can’t you ask your boyfriend to buy it?” he sneered. “Seems like you’re good at doing that.”

How did he know you were still dating Jisung? What did he mean by ‘good at doing that’?

“What?” You crossed your eyebrows. “Do you think I’m with him just for his money? Do I really look like that kind of person to you?”

“You used me for my money,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What?” You couldn’t hear him right.

“Nevermind, rehearsal's over.” He stomped off, leaving you alone in the practice room holding on to your injured knee.

-

You busied yourself with everything and anything you could do over the weekend in order to forget what happened during rehearsal. However, no matter how hard you tried to forget, Hyunjin’s comments on your shoes stuck in your mind like glue.

During your shift at your job, you couldn’t help but keep staring at your worn sneakers. You never paid attention to your shoes before until now. They did the job, so why would you need to buy a new pair? Still, you unconsciously paid attention to every step you took.

On Monday’s dance class, you decided to go early. It was always nice to warm up in a room with other try-hards. They felt less judgemental than the others.

The studio barely had anybody in it this early before class. Everybody was either stretching or had already started going over what was taught last week. Shuffling your way over to your locker, you couldn’t help but compare everybody else’s shoes to your own. You’ve never cared about trivial matters such as shoes, but you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious as your worn-in sneakers squeaked its way over to the lockers.

Opening your locker, your eyes widened, shocked at what you saw. Inside was a box containing a brand new pair of sneakers. It was an expensive brand as well, a brand that you never thought you would be touching in your life. You turned your head around, scanning the room. Everybody seemed to have been busy with their own thing.

Did somebody put these in your locker by mistake?

Taking the shoes out, you noticed a small slip of paper fly out. You picked up the note.

Keep these. I was a jerk.

You knew who had sent this. It was Hyunjin. You didn’t know what game he was trying to play at, but you weren’t going to fall for it like you did that day in high school. Gingerly putting the shoes back in your locker, you decided to return these back to Hyunjin at your next practice.

-

“No, I gave them to you as a gift.” Hyunjin turned his nose up at you, refusing to take back the shoes.

“Why would you give these to me if you think that I only use people for their money?”

“Because,” he rolled his eyes, “if you’re unable to dance then my grade is screwed as well.”

He made a good point, but you were stubborn. “Still…”

“You know what? Keep it, give it away, sell it, I don’t care. Let’s just start practice.”

After that dance practice, you threw your old shoes in the trash.

-

It was midterm season a month into school. You thought you had gone to hell and back with high school, but this was even worse. Each day consisted of waking up, studying, and going back to sleep. You lived on coffee and toast. It wasn’t much, but it gave you the energy to sit at the library for hours to study.

You didn’t see anybody during the midterm season, Instead, you chose to hermit yourself up at the library for days on end. This meant that, at least for a couple of weeks, your dance practice with Hyunjin was put on hiatus. Not that he minded, of course. He happily deleted the practices from his schedule.

You also didn’t see much of your boyfriend, Jisung. Ever since school started, he seemed to always be missing in action. He would almost never have time to be with you, and with the few moments that he was, it seemed like he was always so apathetic towards you. You brushed this off as stress though, as you finally knew what it was like to experience university exams.

It was a clear and sunny day on the morning you finished your last midterm. Leaving the exam room, you looked up to the sky, basking in the sun. Today was going to be a good day. Not only were you now stress free, but you were also invited to an end-of-midterm party for your dance class tonight. You had never gone to a university party before, so when a classmate asked if you wanted to go, you eagerly accepted.

Wrapping up your dance class, you stood at your locker, gathering the rest of your stuff.

“Hey.” An arm wrapped around you.

“Hey, Jisung.” You smiled, turning around to face him.

“You’re done all your midterms?”

“Yup.” You nodded happily.

He took a look at your shoes.

“New shoes?”

You hesitated in answering his question, not knowing where Jisung was with Hyunjin in terms of friendship. It was better to be truthful now rather than apologizing later.

“Hyunjin gave it to me.” You looked down, fiddling with your fingers. Why were you afraid of Jisung’s response?

“Wait, what? Hwang Hyunjin? Like from high school? Y/n, I thought you hated him.”

“I did! And I do,” you tried to explain, “but he had a reason to give me this.”

“Bullshit, Y/n. You’re really gonna believe any reason he pulls out of his ass? I thought you actually matured from high school.”

“Well, you would understand if you were around more often!” you yelled. You knew it was wrong to address other problems and blow this out of proportion, but you couldn’t think straight. Your mind was clouded with anger.

“What does this have to do with anything?” Jisung barked back. “What we’re talking about is how you, no matter how shitty of a person Hyunjin is, keep going back to him! Y/n, all that man does is take. He takes from you and he sure as hell takes everything from me. I won’t let that happen this time.”

When had he taken anything from you? All he had done was give.

“Jisung, let’s end this.”

“You’re right. Let’s cool down and talk later tonight.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I mean, let's end us.”

Jisung looked at you in disgust. “It’s Hyunjin, isn’t it?”

“No,” you vehemently denied, “Jisung, you never have time for me, and the little time we do have together you act like a different person. And now you’re being all possessive just because Hyunjin gave me a gift? I’m sorry, I just don’t see us recovering from this.”

“Fine, whatever.” Jisung turned around. “We’re done. But Y/n, don’t come running back to me when Hyunjin screws you over like he does with everybody.”

After Jisung left, you stomped your foot on the ground, tears pooling in your eyes. It was for the best — breaking up with him. For the past month, you hadn’t been happy with where your relationship was going, but this wasn’t the way you wanted to end an almost three year relationship.

Wiping away your tears, you tried to compose yourself before heading over to the pub. Jisung wasn’t worth the tears.

The walk to the pub wasn’t far as every establishment catered to students was a short walking distance from campus. For your entire walk over, you kept your head down so as to not receive looks from others. The headache from your cries and a blush of anger still lingered with you. Hopefully you’ll look somewhat normal by the time you reach the bar.

Checking your reflection once more in your phone camera, you fixed your hair a bit before going inside.

The bar was filled.

With students from both your dance class and the third year class, there was not an empty corner in sight. The music was loud, but the sounds of chatter coming from the students were louder. The place was dark, with the only source of light coming from very dim, bright blue LEDs.

It was surprising to see everybody in a different setting. You were used to the sight of your classmates being only in sweats and workout clothes, but now that they actually had time to get ready, everybody seemed like a completely different person.

You saw a few of your classmates wave at you, beckoning you over to where they were sitting. As soon as your butt landed on the chair, they spared no time to push a shot glass filled with clear liquor in front of you. You gladly took the drink, wanting to just let go and forget about everything that happened today. Holding back a cough, you scrunched your face as you felt the alcohol burn in your throat. It had been so long since the last time you drank.

After five you stopped counting. Partly because you knew you were going to drink more, but mostly because your head couldn’t even count to five anymore. Scrunching your eyes, you tried to focus on the blurry figure of your classmate complaining about her professor. Bored out of your mind as her mindless babble went on forever, your eyes started roaming around the bar. As your eyes wandered, you noticed somebody behind your classmate staring at you.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Even in your inebriated state of mind, you knew that it was Hyunjin. What other university student had the balls to bleach their whole head blonde? Your eyes met, and he ran a hand through his golden locks. Why do the most beautiful people harbour the most wretched personalities?

You tried to ignore his staring by focusing your attention back on your classmate, but eventually, you couldn’t help but glance back at him. He was still looking at you.

You saw a girl come up to him. She was the same girl that showed up with him on your first ever practice session. Because of the dimly lit bar and your drunken vision impairment, you had to really squint to make out what was going on. The girl, all smiley and giggly, put her hand on his shoulder, making Hyunjin break his eye contact with you. He smiled at the girl, mouthing words that were drowned out by the music. For some reason, this made you furious. Why was he so nice to everybody else but you? What had you ever done to him to make him hate you so much?

You kept your eyes on the girl, knowing full well that you shouldn’t have. You hated that — even on your night off, even when you had just broken up with your boyfriend — Hyunjin was still in your mind like an unkillable parasite. You hated the way he tucked his hair behind his ears. You hated how the corners of his eyes crinkled up when he smiled at her. You hated him.

You watched as she leaned in and whispered something in his ear, causing him to laugh. That was the last straw. In a drunken haze, you took your phone and bolted out the door, ignoring the concerns of all your classmates. Maybe it had been a mistake breaking up with Jisung. Maybe he really did know what was best for you.

Stumbling out onto the street, you tried to dial Jisung’s phone number. It proved to be too difficult of a task, however, as your drunken fingers could only tap on random numbers on the screen. You cried out of frustration.

“Y/n.”

The voice coming from behind you startled you, causing you to lose your grip on the phone. It dropped on the cement with a loud crack. Tears welled up in your eyes as you bent down to pick up your phone. There was a huge crack right down the middle of the screen.

“You cracked my phone,” you said, trying to keep your composure.

“So? It’s not like it’s worth much anyways. Just ask your boyfriend to buy you one.” Hyunjin’s evil eyes squinted down at you.

“Why are you still on about this? Hyunjin, I’ve never used anybody for money and I never will!” You couldn’t control the tears flowing down your face. “Plus, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I broke up with Jisung today.”

You didn’t know why you were spilling your guts to the last man in the world you would trust. Surely, it was the alcohol.

“Y/n.” His tone had completely changed. He almost looked — concerned?

“Whatever, Hyunjin,” you slurred. “Just leave me alone. You can go back to that girl and have your fun with her.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t care.”

“Y/n, why do you care?” His tone got louder.

“I don’t!” you yelled at him. Your tears made everything even more blurry.

“Y/n! Tell me, why do you care?!” He spat back at you with just as much fury.

“Fuck you, Hyunjin. News flash, not everything in the world revolves around you and your rich and prestigious life. Maybe you wouldn’t be so toxic if you would just understand that.” You screamed at him through your sobs. “Also, I don’t know where you got this stupid story of my being a cash whore from, but I will say this one last time: I have worked for everything in my life and I have never and will never use anybody for their money.”

Hyunjin looked back at you, shocked. You stared back at him in disgust. Not wanting to waste anymore time on him, you stumbled down the street to look for a taxi. However, as you wobbled down the pavement, everything became even blurrier than before. You felt nauseous. You couldn’t control it anymore.

You threw up. All over the sidewalk. You couldn’t stop. Every time you thought that it was over, more and more came out. Your throat burned, and it wasn’t just the alcohol.

As you hurled out all the remains of today’s lunch, your hair was held back.

“Get away from me, Hyunjin,” you groaned. You didn’t want him to see you this weak.

“Who else is gonna take care of your drunk ass, idiot,” he mumbled.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

-

It was a blinding white light that woke you up. You groaned, trying to block the light with your forearm. Cracking your neck, you tried to holster yourself up.

You were on a leather couch. Squinting, you surveyed the room you were in. It was clean, spacious. The floor was a white marble — there wasn’t a single speck of dust to be seen. Across from you was an incredibly wide TV with many game consoles scattered around it. You looked behind you. There was a large kitchen island illuminated by warm pendant lights. Sitting at the island, on his laptop, was Hyunjin.

“Wh-what happened to me?”

“You’re the worst fucking drinker I’ve ever seen, that’s what happened.”

You rolled your eyes.

Hyunjin ignored you, standing up and leaving for another room. Less than a minute later, he reappeared with a toothbrush and a roll of toothpaste.

“Go clean up. You look disgusting.”

You snatched the toothbrush from his hands. He pointed over to the bathroom and you trudged your way over. His bathroom was huge, almost bigger than your bedroom at home. You felt as if you were in a hotel.

“Your bathroom is huge.” After washing up, you felt not only cleaner, but more awake. “You’re really living the life with your family’s money, huh.”

Hyunjin sighed, slamming his laptop shut causing you to flinch. “Why, after everything, do you think I’m this rich, pretentious fuck?”

You rolled your eyes. Not this again. “Well, why do you still think I’m this money hungry monster?”

“You really wanna know why, Y/n? It’s because Jisung told me so. He was the one who told me that all those years ago.”

You were shocked. Jisung was the one who told him that? Your ex-boyfriend that you had loved and dated for almost three years? You didn’t want to believe it, you really didn’t, but there was this tiny whisper in the back of your mind telling you that it was true. He had a reason to — Jisung was always going on about how Hyunjin always took from him.

“But Y/n, I-” He stopped mid-sentence.

“You what, Hyunjin?”

He pressed his lips to yours, caressing the back of your head. You were shocked, but almost autonomously, your lips parted feeling the heat of his breath against yours. He pressed his body to yours, running his hand down your waist. His lips, the same lips responsible for his perfect smile, felt so soft against your own. You heard the thuds of his heartbeat as he held you closer.

You broke apart, gasping for breath. The realization of what you had done just hit you.

In a panic, you used your whole strength to push his body away from you. “I-I have to go.”

“Y/n, wait!” Hyunjin called.

You paid him no attention. Instead, you ran across the marble floors, hoisted the front door open, and sprinted out. Hoping that Hyunjin wasn’t following you, found your way outside and took a taxi home.

You sat in silence, trying to process what had just happened. You had just kissed Hyunjin. You had just kissed Hyunjin. Hands shaking, you grasped at the ends of your hair, trying to calm yourself down. Did that just happen?

You were more mad at yourself than at him. How could you have just kissed Hyunjin? You hated him. He was nothing but rude to you, never smiling and always accusing you of things that were clearly lies. He made you feel self conscious, nervous, and everything in between. You hated him.

But he was so sweet on that fateful day in high school. He gave you a new pair of shoes when you had slipped during practice, and he held your hair for you when you were drunk. His hair glistened in the sunlight, his smile made your heart race, and his lips ignited sparks of every colour in the rainbow in your chest.

You hated Hwang Hyunjin. You hated how fast you became infatuated with him on that day in high school, and no matter how much you tried to deny it, you hated that your feelings haven’t changed ever since. You hated Hwang Hyunjin. You hated that you loved him.

Curling up in your bed, there was no stopping the tears flowing down your face. You cried and cried upon this realization, and you remained this way for the rest of the day. The effect Hyunjin had on you was bigger than you ever expected, and you hated it.

-

At school, you tried to avoid as many people as possible. The kiss you had shared with Hyunjin was plaguing your mind, distracting you and igniting the fire that was your inner turmoil. Even the thought of Hyunjin put a strain in your heart. It was the way his breath fanned over your nose, gently tickling it like a bird’s feather and the soft silk of his blonde locks brushing up against your cheeks.

You shook your head, trying to erase any and every thought of that man. Walking to your locker, you were stopped in your tracks, the dam in your eyes starting to crack. You couldn’t do this today. You turned around to go somewhere else — anywhere else.

“Y/n, wait.”

You sniffed, wiped stray tears from your eyes, and picked up your pace.

“Y/n.” He grabbed your shoulder, turning you around to face him.

“Hyunjin, please, I can’t do this today.”

“Are you… Are you crying?” He touched your face, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Y/n, why are you crying?”

You shook your head. You were scared of what would happen if you opened your stupid mouth.

“Y/n, please.” Hyunjin begged. His voice was shaking. “Tell me why.”

You shook your head again.

“Y/n, please.” His voice cracked.

“Hyunjin,” you paused, taking a shaky breath, “it’s because I love you. I’ve loved you ever since the first moment you smiled at my pathetic ass. Even when you hurt me more than anyone has hurt me before… I never had a choice, Hyunjin. It’s always been you.”

You tore yourself away from Hyunjin, embarrassed to your core. That was the most humiliating thing you’ve ever done, but at least you had closure now.

“Y/n…”

“No, Hyunjin. You’ve torn me down and humiliated me enough already. What more could you possibly want?” You demanded, aware that everybody around you was staring.

“Y/n,” Hyunjin rasped, “It’s only ever been you. I’ve spent the last three years miserable knowing that you were with someone else. I’ve-I’ve never even been with another girl in the past three years. I know you have no reason to believe me because I was such an ass. I am such an ass. Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for projecting my insecurities on you, I’m sorry for accusing you of things I know you’ve never done, and I’m sorry for anything else I might have fucking done. Y/n, I love you. Please, I don’t fucking deserve it, but is there any way you could forgive me?”

You stared at Hyunjin’s bloodshot eyes, tears freely flowing down your cheeks, and before you could even think, you found yourself pressed against his lips. Your eyes closed, savouring the feeling of his soft lips touching your own. His wet cheek pressed against your own, and with a nudge of the nose, Hyunjin deepend the kiss with a raw passion in which you’ve never felt before.

You cradled his head, relishing in his silken blonde hair as you brushed your fingers through his locks. He sighed in response, his breath tickling against your cheek. You were fully aware that everyone on campus had seen both your messy confessions of love, but you didn’t care. All you could do was replay the moment that Hyunjin had said those words — those three tiny words — over and over in your head as you ran your fingers through his hair and kissed his soft, honey lips.

[alluringjae]

until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

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

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome​ (dm me if you want to be added) 

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

 To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

 Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

 Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

 (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

 Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

 A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down.  Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

 I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

 Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

[americankimchi]

ok and I GET the concept of attachments leading to vulnerability and therefore weakness but to impose that on a CHILD who so desperately needs a family, someone he could bond with, its honestly tragic. and since qui gon isnt there to do it anymore it falls on obi wan, whos basically a kid himself, whos dealt with rejection his whole life, and how can you expect him to provide anything, much less mentor a padawan?? idk i just have so many FEELINGS abt this and can’t put it into proper words lol

okay you know what i think that’s on qui gon because why!!! would you make the decision to rip a child away from his home like that so quickly!!! i get that they were making a movie and thus needed to speed things along for pacing reasons but COME ONNNNN

i feel like if it wasn’t restricted for movie reasons it would have gone down very differently. difference being: hey, maybe we don’t rip anakin away from his mom and leave not only his mom still in slavery but also punt a tiny child directly into a warzone.

hear me out

so assuming qui gon decides not to take anakin with him (at that moment in time because anakin is still going to be heading to the order just in a more meticulous fashion) right after meeting the skywalkers on tattooine, he still needs to get off planet. so he does the whole race thing yadda yadda he gets the engine and they take off

so here’s where it diverges: anakin stays on tattooine and never goes to naboo.

(bro this got so long i had to put it under a cut omfg)

but cindy!! you might say, leaving anakin on tattoine??? stuck in slavery??? how could you!!!

YES, but this is a temporary thing, just stay with me for a second

padme disagrees but relents because qui gon says he’ll come back for the boy when he’s not, you know, neck deep in the middle of tense wartime negotiations that could trigger a full scale onslaught at any moment. that’s no place to bring a small child into no matter how powerful in the force he is.

qui gon heads back to the council, gives his report, and then mentions anakin. mentions his fuckin. midichlorian count. which is still so ridiculous to me oh my god the midichlorian is the powerhouse of the force i GUESS

anyways

the council still disapproves, but qui gon makes the case that even if they don’t believe him about the chosen one thing it’s still dangerous to leave such a powerful force user out there untrained and vulnerable to the stresses and traumas of slavery. what if he turns to the dark side??? he’ll have ample reasons to if he’s stuck there, and the amount of destruction he could unleash by being untrained and powerful is unspeakable!! qui gon, being the master diplomat he is, even if he is constantly butting heads with the council, could probably convince them of the importance of at least meeting the child. hell, it’s not as if they haven’t broken people free from slavery before it’s honestly jedi basic training at this point

so the council agrees on the condition that qui gon is not allowed to personally mentor the boy because as it stands now he’s too close to the situation, too eager which honestly??? might have been a good chunk of the reason why the council was so against it in the first place. qui gon pushed for it too hard and for no real solid reason. and for fuck’s sake qui gon your padawan is right there

obi wan, awkwardly shuffling on his feet like..... yeah i’m here too master

SPEAKING OF OBI WAN

imagine how gutting it must be to hear that your master wants to get rid of you for the newer, younger model. like at this point obi wan is so used to this shit. abandonment? by qui gon??? it’s more likely than you think,

and obi wan’s ALLL ready to be like “yeah okay. i’ll just. go over here then i guess. fuck me for thinking that you respected me as a person or anything lmao right”

and qui gon’s just “ah fuck. i can’t believe i’ve done this”

anyways hand waves qui gon explaining his reasoning to obi wan and saying that he just wants to ensure that the boy gets the training he needs and obi wan understanding but asking if he really thinks he’s ready to be a knight genuinely or if he’s just saying that to get him out of the way and wow that thought actually hurt a bit lol!!! no problem though qui gon whatever you want haha i’ll just... be in pain. over here. ((:

and qui gon being like, “honestly obi wan the only reason you’re not actually knighted is because i cherish your companionship and i don’t want to let you go” because ANAKIN ISN’T THE ONLY ONE WITH ATTACHMENT ISSUES CASE IN POINT: MY MANS JINN

let’s be honest obi wan could’ve been knighted ages ago. the only reason he hasn’t been is because the master dictates when that step should be taken and qui gon wasn’t ready to let his surrogate son go.

anyways RECONCILIATION WHOO kicks that insecurity off of obi wan’s already weary shoulders because that gnarly bit of tension could’ve been avoided so easily with just a simple conversation!! wow!!! communication can do wondrous things who! would! have! known!!!!!

anyways

they get to naboo. how do they beat the trade federation without anakin? the force works in mysterious ways alright it happens they win boom.

now, onto qui gon. in this au qui gon lives because of that healthy bit of communication up there that went down. see that conversation? where they affirm how important they (qui gon and obi wan) are to each other? and how that bond was repaired and confirmed between their leaving coruscant and fighting maul on naboo and thus their harmonious fighting wasn’t impaired by that underlying resentment and betrayal and tension??? TELLING YOUR KIDS THAT YOU LOVE AND RESPECT THEM CAN DO AMAZING THINGS WITH YOUR ABILITY TO COORDINATE WITH THEM IN THE FIELD IMAGINE THAT

coughs

so they fight maul and maul gets turned into maul 1 and maul 2 and qui gon almost gets got but is saved just in time by his padawan who is!! right there with him!!! because qui gon WAITS 5 SECONDS FOR HIM TO CATCH UP so they can F I G H T  T O G E T H E R. qui gon has a permanent limp and an ache in his spine that never really goes away but he’s ALIVE TO SEE THE NEXT SUNRISE BABEY

celebrations happen. and the most important bit of all here: palpatine never meets anakin on naboo.

why would he? anakin’s not fuckin there mate!!! maul wouldn’t even know anything about anakin because qui gon never bothered to take him with them to coruscant and maul was chasing the delegation from naboo, not going hunting for babies in the tatooinian sands

/kicks the palpatine was anakin’s experimental force daddy theory to the curb because. i don’t like it that’s why. suck it dickpatine.

ANAKIN NEVER MEETS PALPATINE!! ripples in the fucking pond babey

qui gon and obi wan ask a boon of padme, that boon being “hey can you give us truly disgusting amounts of money so we can go free those delightful people we had to leave behind on tatooine due to the fact that we were on a time crunch and also ripping people away from a familiar environment without a stable plan of action to provide them a better quality of life is actually called, as the professionals say, a dick move.”

and padme’s like “um fuck yeah here’s some cash let me know how this goes and give anakin and shmi my love”

SO OFF THEY GO TO TATOOINE TO FREE THE SKYWALKERS. shmi tags along to the temple because why wouldn’t she. she wants to see where her son is going to be going. she also pesters qui gon and obi wan constantly about the order and its philosophies and etc. etc. and subsequently gets a crash course in jedi doctrine that anakin also gets to sit in on and you know, educate himself on.

“we want you to know that being a jedi is a choice. being a jedi is a religion unto itself.” they say

“but it’s a set of philosophies that are meant to at its core help others live happy and free lives?” anakin (and shmi) ask

“that’s a very very very large generalization but i guess for the purposes of this conversation that could be seen as true. from a certain point of view,” they respond. qui gon then lets obi wan loose on his musings about the code because the code is simple, and complex in its simplicity, and how the beliefs of the jedi should be taken very seriously because it reflects their connection to the force and by extension the world around them etc. etc.

anakin makes it to the temple. anakin knows (at least a little) what it means to be a jedi. it’s not all light sabers and noble battles and fighting the good fight. it’s about sacrifice and humility and nobility and above all kindness and empathy and loving all things, great and small, and not letting your personal hatreds cloud your judgement even if it takes all your strength to do so

and most importantly to anakin: no attachments.

and that’s what anakin struggles with the most. that never changes. but this time shmi is there to explain it to him, and coming from shmi, the most important person in the world, makes it stick

“it doesn’t mean you love me less,” shmi explains. “it just means you don’t love everyone else less because you love me. it means not loving me to the exclusion of all else. it means love, but for everyone. for everything.”

and then the two jedi reaffirm that it’s a choice. it’s always about choice. you can’t be a jedi without choosing to be one, it’s not something that can be forced. either you believe in the lifestyle, or you don’t. simple as that.

“can i leave if i want to” anakin asks.

“yes. of course you can, any time.” qui gon responds.

“not sure why you would want to though, being a jedi is kind of super cool” obi wan adds, with a wink.

but anakin isn’t a jedi yet. he’s not even an initiate. he doesn’t want to leave his mom, not until he knows she’s safe. he wants to be a jedi he burns with the need to be a jedi, but he’s not sure if he can be a jedi. not the way that was explained to him anyways. but that’s okay because he has the time to decide!!! there are no sith lords breathing down his neck!!! he has two (2) in the flesh examples of what jedi can do, what jedi are, what they can accomplish in the world!!! most of all he has his mother there, supporting him either way!!!

maybe he does go into the order. maybe he does ultimately choose that life for himself. maybe he does manage to untangle himself from the snarls of attachment and apply himself wholeheartedly to the ways of the jedi. he might even succeed this time since palpatine has no fucking CLUE anakin’s even there!!! he’s not nine years old and freshly braided and attached at the hip to a mourning brand new knight, he’s nine years old and trying to figure out how the fuck you levitate off the ground with your legs crossed under you while his crechemates balance things onto his nose!!!

and you know what!! maybe he chooses to leave the order because it’s not for him, but this time he’s got enough stability in his life, in the way that he manages and examines his feelings, that he’s not a threat to himself and those he loves. maybe he becomes a mechanic and lives a nice, simple life with his aging mother and becomes penpals with a pretty girl from naboo. WHO KNOWWWSSS

and that’s important for anakin: knowing that it’s always a choice always his choice and that he never has to have anyone tell him who he can and cannot be because he is his own master now he has full autonomy and the jedi cannot and will not take that away from him

this got so long oh my god i just have so many THOUGHTS

qui gon taking anakin like that in tpm was such a rushed decision my man can you CHILL AND THINK

anyways,,,,, that’s all thank u for coming with me on this journey,,,,,,,

[phoenixhalliwell]

Waking Up In Vegas

Pairings: Benny Miller X Gender Neutral Reader (I have given them a call sign ‘Tink’ cos I love that nickname lol)

Word count: 2490

Author’s Note: Tumblr is being a wee weirdo and I cant find the link for this fic and my other frankie one for my masterlist so I have to report again *cries*

Archnemesis Benny and reader wake up the morning after a wild night in Vegas with the boys to a surprise revelation.

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG 

 It takes a second to realise that the noise isn’t just your head pounding but in fact someone knocking rapidly at the door. A whimper leaves you as you try not to throw up. You wiggle around the bed, trying to get loose from the heavy blankets but fail miserably.

“Please, stop….too loud. Dying” is all you’re able to croak out. Your mouth is drier than the desert and a one man band is marching in your head. Looking down you realise that it is not a blanket weighing you down but an arm. An arm that is now pulling you backwards to firmly press you against their warm chest. A groan comes from behind you and a face  nuzzles into your throat. You can feel the panic starting to build in your chest.

'Oh god, oh god. What the fuck!’ You are brought out of your freak out by a familiar voice.

“Are you going to open the door willingly Tink? Or am I going to have to come in there myself!”

Frankie! Relief rushes through you at your saviour. Frankie is a good guy, he won’t give you shit for this like the other boys. It’ll be swept under the rug and no one else has to know. That’s why Frankie is your favourite. The person behind you suddenly makes their displeasure at being rudely woken known.

“Will you shut the fuck up Fish, some of us are trying to sleep”

A coldness rushes through you. NO. FUCKING. WAY. Not him. Please not him. Slowly turning in the arms that have you in a death grip, you let out a low moan. Benny Miller is lying there in all his glory. He looks almost angelic with the way the morning sunlight hits him just right, making him glow. But you know the truth.

That man is the fucking DEVIL.

To say you and Benny dislike one another was an understatement. There is a long standing feud between you and the younger Miller that goes so far back you can’t quite remember how it started. You were originally a medic under the command of his brother Will, but over time (with Will vouching for your skills) you’d been pulled into other little jobs that involved his old army buddies and his dipshit little brother. You were welcomed into this little make shift family with open arms (well by most people anyways).Will, Santiago and Frankie - you thought the world of.  Benny…. let’s just say you wouldn’t piss on if he was on fire. There was just something about Benny that just irks you. The way he calls you names and winds you up until you explode and end up being separated by Will who is sick of both of your shit. That god damn cocky grin rubs you up the wrong way. The way he thinks he’s god’s gift to mankind and struts about. Sure, he is a handsome man and is talented at his profession.He can be kind when he wants to be. He’s loyal and he’ll have your back if the situation calls for it,  but it doesn’t mean he has to show off all the fucking time! He’s a god damn pain in your ass!

So to wake up this morning and find out you two have evidently slept together causes a small part of you to die inside. This bastard is never going to let you hear the end of it. You try to cast your mind back on what actually led you to your current predicament.

You and the boys were spending the weekend in Vegas for Santiago’s bachelor party. The wild stallion had finally been tamed and he wanted one last hoorah with his family before the new chapter of his life. The original plan was to have a nice dinner at the Bellagio before hitting up the tables in hopes of winning some cash. That part you could remember, it is the rest that comes in drips and drabs.

The chant of “Shots! Shots! Shots!” echoes in your mind and there is still a faint taste of tequila in your mouth. 'That explains why I can’t remember jack shit. Did we do Karaoke?’ You can see Frankie and Benny screeching “I want to know what love is ” with Will swaying along and Santi throwing money at the them from the front of the stage. 'Why can I hear bells ringing?’ There is also a familiar body ache you know the exact cause of. More flashes come to mind that make your heart race : Stumbling into walls, the desperation of trying to undress quickly, a hot breath on your neck, hands gripping your waist, filthy words being whispered into your ear….

'I’m never drinking again’

The banging at the door starts again, Frankie is clearly pissed at being kept waiting.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your marital bliss but check out is at 11 and I know for a fact neither of you fuck heads have packed”

Marital bliss? Who the hell is married?

You eyes drift down to your left hand and its suddenly hard to breathe. There is a nice new addition to your ring finger. A gold band that sure as shit was not there yesterday. This seems like the perfect moment to start screaming. Benny is up in an instant, scanning the room for the unknown threat. Once he realises it’s just the two of you, his body relaxes and he scrubs his hand over his face. It takes him a moment to notice the feeling of cold metal on his skin and he stares down at his hand, an unreadable look on his face. You are just able to hear him whisper

“Fuck, its real”

This whole situation is suddenly too much and everything becomes blurry as tears fall from your eyes. You can feel yourself start to hyperventilate and Benny is at your side in an instant trying to console you.

“Come on sweetheart you need to calm down. Feel my chest and breathe with me yeah? In… and out…. It’s ok I’ve got you.”

He repeats his reassurances over and over again. You try to focus on the sound of his deep voice, try to follow his instructions to help regulate your breathing. Gradually it returns to normal and you slump forward into Benny’s arms suddenly exhausted. He rubs his hand up and down your back, somewhat soothing you. You  feel him sigh before he turns his face into your hair and presses a gentle kiss to your head. It suddenly occurs to you that Benny has never been this gentle with you and your heart clenches a little. You feel him pull away from you and have to stop yourself from squeezing him tight.  You stand there for a few seconds in silence before you hear the door opening behind you. Frankie must have found the spare key to your room.

“Are you guys still alive in here?” he asks timidly, glancing between  you and Benny,  eyes zoning in on how close the both of you were.

“Yeah man, we’re good.” Benny  replies, moving to stand on the other side of the room.

“Look I am really sorry to rush you’s but Will’s anxious to get on the road and he might end up murdering Santi before the wedding if we all don’t hustle” Frankie says apologetically.

“I’ll catch you guys downstairs. I won’t be long” Benny grabs his things off the floor before making a break for the door, leaving you and Frankie to stare at each other awkwardly.

“Not a word Morales” you threaten.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Tink. Let’s pack your stuff and get the fuck out of dodge yeah?”

Like you said. Frankie was always your favourite.

Awkward doesn’t even begin to cover breakfast. Those little shits planned it so you and Benny are forced to sit side by side in the booth. Frankie is looking somewhat sympathetic when Santi slides a piece of paper over to you with a shit eating grin. It’s photographic evidence of the worst decision of your life. You still weren’t sure how you guys ended up in the little white chapel saying the big 'I Do’. None of the boys seem to remember either or were just refusing to give up any information about it in case they incriminated one of their brothers.

'Bet you it was all that bastard Santi’s fault’

Sighing, you finally look down at the photo in front of you. It was the 5 of you all lined up. You and Benny stand in the middle of the photo, clinging to each other. You were snuggled into his chest as he gazes down at you in awe. You swallow sharply and tear your eyes over to Will who is off to Benny’s left and appears to be crying? (I was just so happy someone took the little shit off my hands) Obviously Will stood in as Benny’s best man, that was a given. On the far end of the photo on your side stood Santi who looked dishevelled and pissed off. Was that blood on his shirt? Between him and you stood Frankie who (unusual for him) was sporting a Cheshire grin. Confused, you looked up at the two men in front of you and suddenly noticed real life Santi had a black eye.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

The two men glanced at each other in embarrassment before Santi quietly admitted that he and Frankie had got into a fist fight over who was going to be your right hand man. Will snorts into his hand in the corner.

'God give me strength not to kill these stupid bastards’  Sighing and rubbing your temples you shot them a glare which has the 3 men across from you cowering in their seats.

“So at no point did any of you guys think to put a stop to this madness?” You growl.

“Is the idea of being married to me really the worst thing in the world?” You hear Benny asks quietly, still not looking at you.

The boys have the good grace to look a little ashamed before Santi decides to pipe up and make his defence.

“Well how could we? Benny spent the best part of the night proclaiming his undying love you. Fuck he even serenaded you at the Karaoke bar.” There is a loud thud and Santi’s face  twists into a grimace. Apparently someone had kicked him under the table.

“Yeah right as if Benny would ever say anything like that! He hates my fucking guts. Right Benny?” You scoff and nudge him with your elbow. An uncomfortable silence washes over the table and Benny refuses to look at you. It’s good old Will who breaks the silence, abruptly standing up.

“Why don’t we go sort out the bill yeah?” looking to his brothers.

Santi squawks in outrage and throws up his hands “But it was just getting to the good part!!!” Will grabs him by the collar of his shirt and drags him out of the booth, muttering furiously into his ear before marching him off to god knows where. Frankie reaches over and gently squeezes your hand before sliding out and giving Benny a pat on the shoulder on the way by.

“Good luck hermano” he calls over his shoulder. You wait for a beat before turning to Benny gearing yourself up for a fight.

“Are you fucking serious right now. Or is this all an elaborate game that you and the boys have cooked up Huh?” you hiss.

“You really think I’m that cruel?” he fires back.

“I don’t know! Ever since I met you, you’ve made my life a living hell Benny! So why wouldn’t this not be the next step in the ’ terrorise Tink’ grande scheme?” The remark clearly hits him hard as he whirls round to finally face you.

“You really have no clue do you.”

“What the hell are you talking about Miller?”

Benny scoffs bitterly and takes a deep breath.

“I don’t hate you Tink! I never have. I’m so far gone on you that Will threatens daily to kill me if I don’t shut up about you. Ask him or any of the guys for that matter”. There’s a look of pleading on his face as though begging you to believe what he is saying that leaves you completely floored. Without waiting for a response he barrels on, the dam broken, clearly needing to get everything off his chest at last.

“Do you realise how intimidating it is to talk to you?. You’re amazing and so fucking beautiful Tink that I feel like I can’t breathe every time i look at you. You are hella smart and watching you work on the job blows my mind every time. And that mouth you have on you, no one else ever calls me out on my shit like you. I know I have a sense of humour that people don’t always get. I know I can be a complete asshole and I don’t really have much going in my favour but  I’m not a bad man Tink I swear. I’ve been sweet on you since the day I met you. For some reason though you just seemed to dislike me from the start so it was easier to play up on being an asshole. It hurt less that way.” He trails off.

What. The. Fuck.

You stare at him. Dumbfounded. You’d been wrong the whole time?

“I remember most of last night Tink. We had been drinking and betting at one of the craps tables. You were on a winning streak and kept saying if you rolled a hard 8 you would do this and that. You were having the time of your life Tink. I’ve never seen you look so free. So Happy. Any time you’re around me, you’re always so closed off. And it kills me. But you were looking at me different last night. And i was so caught up in the game I bet if you rolled a hard 8 one more time that we should get married. And you took me up on that offer. I’ve never felt so fucking happy in my life. I know it was a stupid idea and that we were drunk, but you finally chose me and if anything happened to me after that I could die a happy man.”

He gently brings both his hands up to cup your face and leans in close, not enough for your lips to touch but close enough for him to whisper to you.

“I know this whole Vegas thing has been crazy and I’m not asking you to stay married to me. That would be unreasonable. All I’m asking is that you choose me again. That you give me a chance to show you how much I care about you. Please”

You stare into his eyes for a second, looking for a hint of deception. Finding none, you make your decision. You close the gap between you and feel Benny sigh in relief into the kiss.

I  guess there’s a fine line between love and hate.

[omniswords]

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 10

omni’s on lunch break, quick post a new Chronicles update—

anyway, thank you for continuing to support this fic!!! i hope you enjoy this update and share the love!

from: itsdjbubbles

hey dude! i know you don’t know me or whatever but like, i wanted to tell you that clip you just posted was FIRE. and also i’m pretty sure we’re in the same city? i think i heard you playing this on the champ de mars yesterday. i didn’t have any cash on me but i totally would’ve given you some if i did.

anyway, nice tunes and hope you’re havin a good one

Luka’s only glad this message hasn’t been sitting in his request box for very long. Otherwise, he’d really feel like a total douchebag. And an ungrateful douchebag on top of that, considering the new clip he posted… isn’t doing as well as he’d like. Not even as well as the first version, the thirty seconds he recorded on his phone and slapped on the internet because his soul all but compelled him to. It’s not that he’s comparing himself to other musicians on here; he rarely does this stuff for the numbers, anyway. It’s more that he’s comparing himself to… himself. The thing that he loves doing, puts hours of himself into, versus… these simple, giveaway details of his life that he posts without a second thought, because, well, where else is he going to put them?

Is this the case with every artist? Because if it is, then that’s just… stupid.

It’s half-past midnight, but Luka still pushes himself out of bed and shuffles to the couch, using the light of his phone to guide his path. His mother and Juleka are surprisingly asleep by now—he’s pretty sure at least half of France is, in spite of what this city has to offer—but he’s hardly ever been opposed to the comfort of the quiet and the dark. At least it gives him a chance to read the message a few more times.

It’s not often that people reach out to him privately. In fact, most of his direct messages are from people he’d befriended on other social media platforms, or occasionally someone who, like this Bubbles person, just wanted to let him know they liked his work and hoped he was having a nice day. It’s not that he thinks that he’s better than the people who are brave enough to reach out. He’s just never really known how to answer those kinds of messages beyond a thank you, so he’s tended to leave them be, or worse—never accept them in the first place, so they’d never know he read them at all.

It sort of makes him wonder how people dealt with situations like this a century or two ago. Maybe they just never left their houses, so they could never be called upon. So they never had to be known.

That wouldn’t be so bad, if he didn’t have to make money. Or if he didn’t like the sun so much.

Well. He supposes with technology like this, he’s coming pretty close.

Out of curiosity, Luka taps Bubbles’s icon, just to peek at their profile. He balks at the follower count—it’s well over a thousand—and judging by the content they post, he’s pretty sure almost none of them are those stupid bots looking to make ad revenue or ensure their devices are brimming with viruses. Or worse—argue against human rights, as though they’re something to be argued against. Bubbles’s page is funny, and vibrant, and rife with links to this other website he’s only ever heard of in jokes. It makes him halfway wonder how many of Bubbles’s posts have blown up—and how many they’ve actually responded to with a tip jar link or a peep my Soundcloud.

Whatever this Bubbles person is doing, it’s working. And it’s working right.

They don’t have any pictures of themselves on their page, or even as their profile picture. In fact, the most Luka finds is a silhouette of them from a nightclub, somehow darker than black and highlighted by strobes of bold, bright light. And the most he can make out of that is the rim of a pair of round glasses, and layers of thick dreadlocks.

It probably doesn’t matter. Even if he pulled off some crazed theorist thing with wild hair and enough red yarn to map out every arrondissement, he probably couldn’t have picked out glasses and dreadlocks out of a crowd on the Champ de Mars if he tried and wasn’t distracted by his own work.

But what could it hurt to say hi back?

Luka pops in his headphones, because the music is the only thing that actually lets him concentrate, and starts to type his response in the notes app on his phone. He doesn’t want to accidentally send something he hasn’t read and reread, or hasn’t even finished typing. And if Bubbles just so happens to be checking their messages, he doesn’t want to keep them waiting with all the typing and deleting and re-typing and re-deleting. He’s been on the receiving end of those eerily calm ellipses enough times to never want to subject anyone else to that. Eventually—and eventually is a long time, even for him—he comes up with something he’s actually satisfied with.

to: itsdjbubbles

hey, sorry for replying so late, i didn’t get any notification. but thanks for the compliment. it’s really cool of you to message me in the first place, i appreciate it. sorry about the cash thing, but don’t worry about it. i’d like to do it full-time someday, but it’s more of a side hustle thing for now. maybe i’ll get one of those venmo or cashapp things for people who don’t carry cash. (i mean, you’re right, who does that, anyway? it’s the 21st century.)

With a deep breath and both legs bouncing, Luka taps the SEND button. And then he decides that was an awkward place to end a message, because apparently you can read and reread and edit and re-edit, and you’ll still find every little thing wrong after you post, so he sends a follow-up message as quickly as he can.

anyway, thanks for the message. hope you’re having a good night.

Assuming Bubbles is even awake.

As soon as he puts his phone face-down in his lap, his blood runs cold with relief, and his hands start to tremble and tingle in spite of how the music still blasts in his ears. He tries to calm himself down by placing the color of each song, but after just a few of them he starts feeling that familiar buzz of sensory overload. In the end, he has to lie back and close his eyes and bask in total silence, just to get his head back on straight.

A message.

He sent a message.

His phone buzzes from its place on his stomach, and immediately he scrambles for it, squinting against the bright light of his screen. There’s a single notification.

Bubbles.

He shouldn’t already be this excited to talk to Bubbles.

from: itsdjbubbles

dude, you’re still up? don’t you have work in the morning?

from: itsdjbubbles

no but for real, you should consider sharing on other sites or picking up some other gigs if you haven’t already.

from: itsdjbubbles

like lol i know we just met and all but i know a place i DJ sometimes that’d totally like your vibe. just lmk if you’re interested?

from: itsdjbubbles

anyway, we should probably get some sleep huh. g’night!

It’s… funny. How this is all it takes for opportunity to fall into his lap.

Luka gets to his feet, a tired grin inching its way across his face, and shuffles right back to bed, another message under his thumb. Except this time, he doesn’t bother to open up his notes. If Bubbles knows he’s up, he might as well own it. Just for now.

to: itsdjbubbles

i’m going, i’m going, don’t worry, haha.

to: itsdjbubbles

yeah, i’ll think about it. why don’t you send me their info?

from: itsdjbubbles

you got it, dude.

from: itsdjbubbles

also

from: itsdjbubbles

good luck with CBG and all

from: itsdjbubbles

though from the looks of it, maybe you won’t need it??

Luka’s eyes blow wide open enough to start asking in his head, what does it mean? what does it all mean? Instead, he presses his phone to his face, because asking—and screaming—will definitely wake up his family, and types out one more reply.

to: itsdjbubbles

trust me. vaguely knowing her, i think i will.

[cometcrystal]

work saga updates cause i haven’t posted abt any of this yet and a lot has happened

cause i know at least one of you reads this shit. will be split into 3 parts

mute money incident 

i was the vault custodian that week and i was gonna take up mute money that day. mute is short for Mutilated and it means money that’s too gross/beat up to give out to customers, but is still real money and full enough to accept in deposits n shit. in the vault, we put them in straps marked with highlighters, so we know which ones to ship out to the feds

i was gonna do it the way another teller had done it before: gather enough bills to sell a full strap, with the mute money inside, and mark it with a highlighter and just sell that to the vault

head teller (im gonna say HT to keep it easier) says that’s wrong and i shouldn’t do it that way. according to her im apparently supposed to have each teller sell each individual bill they have to the vault and then i swap it out, swap it out for a good bill that’s inside an already- mute strap (cause they’re never 100% full of mute money), and bring it back (i.e. five 1s, three 5s, etc).

note i am still tense w her from smth she had done the previous evening

so im like Ok I Guess and start writing down how much each person is getting rid of on a piece of scrap paper. which makes sense right? cause if i’m gonna be bringing it back, i need to know how much to GIVE back.

HT sees this, takes my paper and crumples it and throws it away without asking me, and tells me i need to count it. i am upset and i said i WAS counting it and that’s why i had the paper. but apparently i have to hand count it every single time

also im apparently not supposed to give any back to the other tellers and im supposed to sell it back to my box when ??? like.

im trying to sort out this misunderstanding with her and truthfully arguing a bit because she is treating me like a child! and she looks at me and goes “do you want to learn or not. do you take this job seriously. because this is how we do this, and if you don’t want to learn, i’ll call [retail op specialist] and we can find someone else.”

so im abt to go inside the vault and shes like abt to come with me to help SWAP THE BILLS OUT and i was like i think i got it.

so i go in there alone and have to take a second and lean my head on the counter bc i am abt to start crying from how upset angry and insulted i am. she was just 100% talking to me like i was 5 years old and being EXTREMELY fucking condescending to me about the whole thing instead of just... explaining it. i have never once cried at work and i dont cry often in general. but she had nearly pushed me to that point.

when i go back out HT says “see that wasn’t so hard was it” in this I Told You So voice

so abt 20 minutes later i call her into the then-empty manager’s office so i can sit down with her and talk. because i am a petty person but im not abt to lose my job so i wanted to clear shit up w her.

TLDR i said its not that i don’t want to learn, it’s that the way you talk to me is condescending and it makes me feel like you think i’m stupid. and she said sorry and that she would try not to talk like that anymore, she was just frustrated cause she felt like i was arguing with her. so! i assume shit is cleared up

apparently, the next day, when the girl i learned the original mute money technique from came to work? HT pulled her aside and talked to her abt it and told her that we wouldn’t do it like that anymore here. and apparently! this bitch told her “apparently dott just doesn’t want to learn”! after i had that WHOLE conversation with her because i was trying to be a fucking adult! so i guess shit ISN’T cleared up!

and the funny part??? last week was HT’s rotation week so she was gone for the entirety of our new manager’s first week. and the other teller talked w the manager (MN for short) abt mute money and u know what she said????

SHE SAID JUST SELLING IT IN FULL STRAPS WAS THE EASIEST WAY SO THAT’S HOW WE’D DO IT. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

new manager

she officially started monday of last week, but had stopped by friday to get her keys and to introduce herself

HT is EXTREMELY angry that she didn’t get the position and she doesn’t hide it very well. and i like. i get it she’s been here for 10 years but also. just bc you’ve been here 10 years doesn’t mean 1. you have desk experience needed to be a good manager 2. you have the personality to be a good manager

anyway. MN is AMAZING and i love her. in her first WEEK, we got her putting her foot down but doing it in a considerate way, which is WAY more than could be said for our previous one, and is DEFINITELY something we need with HT. she’s very intelligent and i have very high hopes for her.

for one thing, TLDR we were cashing checks for ppl that weren’t there and had sent someone on their behalf, and we had apparently done that for a very long time but i never felt good about that. MN shut that down REAL quick as soon as she saw it happening, and the customers were all chill about it! literally the only issue is gonna be HT being upset that we’re changing that

the other big thing is its own section

Oh You’re GONNA Deposit It

so this one guy comes thru friday before last wanting to deposit a check into his business acct. let’s say his name is john doe, and the check’s made out to jack smith. jack has NOTHING to do with this account; he’s just one of john’s customers.

obviously we can’t fucking do this bc the check is made out to a completely unrelated person and not the business

i explain this to john doe and he immediately gets angry. hes like “oh youre GONNA deposit it.” with venom in his voice @ me. and i repeated myself. and he said “IS HT THERE??”

he’s asking for her because HT babies all these damn customers!! they’re spoiled as shit because she bends all these rules for them and then both of them, customer and HT, get angry when policy is cited at them

i was like ok! i’ll be right back! and i showed it to HT. and she goes over to talk to him. and even SHE tells him “we’re not supposed to do this” so she’s like “we’ll do it this one time because it’s a small check and you’ve been here forever, but we CAN’T do it again.”

SO EVEN HT HAS TOLD HIM THIS.

next friday, john doe calls in and says he has another check made out to jack smith that he’s gonna deposit. and if there’s any issue with it, he’ll close all his accounts out. like. ok lol

so he comes by and i do his first deposit for his personal bc it’s fine and then i pick up the business deposit and sure enough. another jack smith check, this time bigger.

so i don’t even talk to him, MN comes over to do that. she tells him the same thing i told him the previous week. he 100% straight up starts YELLING at her. not just raising his voice, YELLING. i can’t remember the exact convo but she hands the deposit back bc hes telling her to give it back and he speeds off

abt 30min later we get a call from someone at the call center just wanting to know the situation bc apparently he called them abt it and they told him the same damn thing we told him LMFAOOOO

so then an hour after THAT i pick up the phone and it’s him! he sounds calm and collected. he very politely asks for his account info because he’s gonna get stuff together to close all of his accounts and he’s gonna come by to do that. im like ok sir

he never comes by that day so idk if he changed his mind or if he’s planning to do it this week

the moral of this whole story is! this entire week is going to be extremely entertaining because HT’s reactions to all that MN has done so far (ALL GOOD THINGS!) is going to be extremely funny and vindicating! shes gonna be like “I’M GONE FOR A WEEK AND YOU LOST [COMPANY THAT’S BANKED HERE FOR 30+ YEARS]???” YEAH BECAUSE HE WAS BEING A MASSIVE CHODE GOOD RIDDANCE

[kimmimaru]

I wrote more Reno stuff. Unedited again, feeling lazy lol. (for people who don’t know, this is part of a larger fic on ao3 called Infatuation, it’s got tags and warnings so be careful of that). This fic is turning out way more complicated than I first intended, I didn’t think Reno would start just doing his own thing but here we are.

The street is dark. Reno stands in the shadow of a squat building, yellow light splashing against the hard-packed earth beneath his feet. Inside he can hear laughter, a few coarse shouts and an occasional cheer. The bar is as rowdy as ever but Reno's not there to drink. He waits, hands in his pockets, eyes on the street until finally he hears footsteps. He straightens himself up as a figure turns the corner. It's a woman, her dark hair tied back from her face in a neat bun. Her dress is loose around the middle, barely disguising the obvious bump. She tenses when she sees Reno, her steps faltering. “Yo,” Reno offers a greeting, shifting his weight, “You're Bobby's wife, right?” The woman lowers her eyes, “Yes. You must be Reno. Bobby...didn't like you very much.” “Nah, guess he wouldn't.” Reno rubs the back of his head a little, “Look, I'm sorry...for callin' you out here.” “I just...want this to be over.” The woman says, clutching at her purse. “What do you want from me?” Reno reaches into his pocket and withdraws a fat envelope, “It's...not much but...” He holds it out. The woman stares at the envelope for a while before looking up. “What is this?” “Money.” Reno glances around and steps closer, “I'm not supposed to be here, yo...but...me an' Bobby were kinda tight back in the day. I owe him somethin'.” She frowns, “Is this...a bribe? I didn't tell them who he spoke to on the phone and I don't intend to. I just want to stay out of it. I have a child-” “All the more reason for you to take this, yo.” Reno pushed the envelope into her hands. “It's enough to get you outta here. Outta Midgar...maybe to Costa Del Sol, I dunno. But it's dangerous here, too many people know your face.” The woman clutches at her stomach, taking a deep breath, “Was it you? Did you kill my husband?” She whispers, meeting Reno's eyes. “No.” Reno shakes his head, “I swear, I never touched him. I'm not like that, yo.” “You're a Turk.” She says with a frown, “Isn't that what you do?” Reno sighs, “Are you gonna take this or not?” She looks back down at the envelope, “Bobby always said he would get us out of Midgar. He wanted us to raise our child somewhere safer.” She finally accepts the package. “Thank you.” She says, eyes on the ground.

“I'm sorry, yo. For...everythin'.” Reno turns and walks away, before he turns the corner he glances back when Bobby's wife calls his name.

“Even if you did have something to do with it...I won't hold a grudge.” Reno watches her disappear around the corner. XXX

Rufus looks at the images on his computer screen. He sighs under his breath, “What are you up to Reno?” He mutters to himself, tapping a finger against the desk. “Poking your nose where it doesn't belong? Tut tut.” He withdraws his phone and enters a number, holding it to his ear he leans back in his creaky office chair. “I think it's time I shortened your leash.” He says before someone answers.

XXX “Reno?” Bruno stares at his visitor through the half-open door, his round face scrunches into a scowl. “What the hell are you doin' here?” “I came for the intel.” Reno says, leaning against the wall. “C'mon, you gonna make me stand in the street?” Bruno curses under his breath but steps aside and allows Reno into his apartment. The place is tiny, most of the space is taken up by computer equipment. “Find a seat. Sorry I can't offer you anythin'.” “It's fine.” Reno pushes aside an old cracked computer screen and perches on the edge of a worn out sofa. “So, whaddya got for me?” Bruno sat on an old office chair in front of a desk. The desk had three large screens on it and several empty mugs. He lights a cigarette and pushes sandy hair from his face, “Found somethin' real interesting,” Bruno says, turning around and putting his fingers to the keyboard. Reno waits while he taps away and brings up an email account. He blows smoke through his nose as Reno stands and moves closer. “A few weeks before he disappeared Bobby was talkin' to someone.” He clicks a few times, “Here, look.” He brings up one of the emails, Reno's eyes narrow and he leans closer. Smoke from Bruno's cigarette rises into his face, “Dunno who this guy is, he doesn't give a name but it looks like he brought all the stock from Bobby's shop. Some dangerous shit, too.” “Damn.” Reno whispers, shaking his head, “Looks like they're arming an...army.” “Uh-huh.” Bruno clicks his tongue, “Bastard was sellin' arms to some shady folk. No wonder he disappeared.” “It doesn't make sense.” Reno mutters, half to himself as he backs off. He turns away a little, staring across the room with a frown. “Why take out your main dealer? Don't they need him? Unless...” He runs a hand through his hair and curses, “They knew he'd been speakin' to me. Maybe they thought he was gonna squeal.” Reno blinks and turns back to Bruno, “Can you trace those emails?” “No.” Bruno shrugs, “They're clever. Hid their tracks.” “Shit.” Reno stares back at the screen until he sees another suspect email, “Hey, what's that?” He points and Bruno shrugs, opening it. Reno reads it, head tilted. “There's...somethin' familiar about the way this guy talks.” He taps his finger on the top of Bruno's cluttered desk. “Big words. Sounds educated.” “Yeah...” Reno sucks in air through his teeth, “This the only email he got from this guy?” “Seems like it.” Reno reads it again and again, “It's a threat.” He mutters, “They met up...when was this sent?” “About a day before his wife reported him missin'.” “Shit.” Reno breathes, stepping back. “I gotta go.” “Hey!” Bruno stands, moving between Reno and the door, “My money.” Reno sighs, “Here.” He puts a stack of cash in Bruno's hands, “What we agreed on.” Bruno counts it, cigarette between his teeth, “Fine.” He steps aside and Reno leaves his dingy home.

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: T

Summary: Luka is just minding his own business. XY is just hanging from the side of his boat.  Of course XY isn't going to shut up and leave him alone... but maybe that's not entirely a bad thing.

Word Count: 1843 | Chapter 1/4

Notes: Special thanks to Janai and Maddy for beta reading for me!! And being inspirations bc I wouldn’t ship this otherwise lol.  Luxy rights [dabs]

XXX

“C’mon, man, please!  This place is such an unsexy trash heap, she’ll never think to look for me here!”

Luka blinked down at XY from the Liberty’s deck.  Straight down, because the other boy was currently dangling from the side of the ship.  How had he even gotten there?  Tried to jump?  They had a plank, but he hadn’t bothered to ask Luka to lower it.  Luka probably wouldn’t have known he was there if he hadn’t watched his face smush against his bedroom porthole.

The smart thing might have been to ask “what are you doing here,” or maybe even “what makes you think I’ll do you any favors?”  But XY would probably have an easier time answering questions when he wasn’t hanging on by his manicured fingertips.

“Fine.”  He reached a hand down to haul him up.

“Woah!”  XY exclaimed at being yanked on deck.  Luka didn’t know why he was surprised.  He weighed almost as little as Marinette.

He dusted off his purple jacket with a sneer.  “Gross, I think I touched a barnacle.”

“We don’t have barnacles.”  Only because Officer Roger made them scrape the hull once a month, but still.  “You mind telling me why you’re here?”

“Pshaw, yeah.”  He plopped down in one of the folding chairs and crossed his feet on the table like he owned the place.  Unsurprising, considering his attitude said he owned everything.  Including his music and Marinette’s designs.

Even though they’d appeared on Bob Roth’s show in the end, that sting never entirely went away.  Maybe it was because it was his first (and only) time being akumatized, but the negative emotions still hung in the air like a discordant note.

Or maybe it was because music was meant to come from the heart, and Luka wasn’t convinced XY even had one.

He sighed and shook his head.  It wouldn’t do any good to confront the boy again and risk another akumatization.

He settled down cross-legged in the chair farthest from XY, where he could still keep an eye on him, but not hear his obnoxious humming quite so clearly.  Maybe working on Marinette’s melody would soothe some of his irritation away.

He was only three chords in when XY started talking.

“Do you know that blonde girl from the hotel?  The mayor’s kid?”

Luka blinked blankly.

“Her name’s er—Cole?  Clover?”

“Chloe?  I think Marinette’s talked about her.  Why?”

“Aaaaanyway, that girl’s been on my tail ever since we started staying at the hotel.  She’s probably my biggest fan.”

“Good for you,” he replied in monotone, strumming a few more chords.  Maybe a D minor would work there…

“No!  Awful for me!  She wants to take me out for pasta.  I don’t even like pasta!  Or girls!”

Luka blinked at that last bit.  “Can’t you just tell her that?”

“Ugh, I wish.”  He sighed, flopping his arms over the sides of the chair so they dangled against the deck.  “Dad says I can’t come out because it’ll be bad for my image.  The only thing I’m good for is my pretty face.”  

He said it like it was a fact.  Something about that turned Luka’s stomach.  He couldn’t imagine hiding being bi from his family.  Juleka knew she was lesbian practically since she was born, which made it a bit easier too, and it wasn’t like their mom cared either way.  

“Music should be about who you are on the inside, not just the way you look,” he said.  “Hiding such an important part of who you are must make it difficult to hear the melodies in your heart.”

XY snorted.  “Not sure what kind of hippie crap you’re talking about.”

Why was he even bothering?  They weren’t friends.  But still, this was the longest conversation he’d had with anyone outside of Juleka’s friends in… he couldn’t remember.

“Why did you tell me this, anyway?”  He asked, shaking off the thought.

“You asked why I was here.  Duh.”  XY dug some wax out of his ear and flicked it on the deck.

“But you said—nevermind.”  

Unsure how else to react, Luka readjusted his guitar and tried to pick up Marinette’s melody again.  But his fingers stumbled over the strings, refusing to press the right frets.

What did it mean that XY had come out to him of all people, when he otherwise wasn’t allowed to?  Didn’t he have anyone else to share his struggles with?  Or was he just trying to draw on Luka’s sympathy to keep him from kicking him off the boat?

Probably that last one.  After all, it didn’t seem like XY even knew this was Luka’s house when he showed up.

“I thought you were supposed to be good,” XY scoffed when Luka butchered another chord.

“I’m just playing the song in your heart.  It’s not my fault you’re out of tune.”

The boy blinked, as if no one had called out like that before.  Luka hadn’t even meant to, really—he should’ve just kept his mouth shut and let his music do the talking.

“I think my heart song needs more bass drops.”

“Wh—that’s what you’re concerned with?”

“Uh, yeah?  Your heart might be a boring guitar solo, but I’ve gotta have some kind of beat.”

Luka just sighed and shook his head.  “Play your own heartsong, then.”

If that was supposed to make XY shut up, it failed miserably.

“Huh.  Sounds like your weird hippie stuff again.”

Luka didn’t point out that he had been the one to argue what his heartsong would sound like in the first place.

“Dad wouldn’t want to hear something like that, anyway,” he mumbled.  “Can’t top the charts with mushy junk.”

“Is that all you care about?  Being number one?”

XY looked at him like he was stupid.  “Yeah.  Why else would I make music?”

Something in his gut twisted.  It was just so wrong, to hear someone talk about music like that.  

“Because you enjoy it?  Because it lets you express yourself?”  

XY snorted.  “Maybe that works for you.  I can’t… it just doesn’t work like that.”

“Have you tried?”

“Yeah!”

Luka jumped at the anger in XY’s voice.  It was nothing like the nasally drawl he was used to.  

His blue eyes flashed with regret before he settled back in the chair. “...Sorry.  That wasn’t very cash money of me.”

XY?  Apologizing?  What kind of nerve had he touched?

“...It’s okay, I guess,” Luka mumbled back.

XY scoffed and ran a hand through his gelled mess of hair.  “This was stupid.”

“What?”  This whole situation was stupid, but probably not for the reasons XY thought.

“You’ve just—you’ve got all kinds of ideas.”

“Yeah?  So?”  Not everyone’s head could be as empty as his.

Luka received another of XY’s are you stupid stares, which was pretty ironic considering which one of them had been hanging off the side of the boat a few minutes ago.

“My dad, no matter what he says—he hates ideas.”

Luka shrugged.  “Sounds like he doesn’t know much about music, then.”

“No, he knows everything about music.  What sells, what doesn’t.  So when he said my original music sucked—I knew he was right.”

“That’s…” That’s terrible didn’t cut it, just like it hadn’t cut it earlier.  He shouldn’t care; it wasn’t like he owed XY his sympathy.  Heck, he didn’t even like him.  

But when it came to having your music rejected… he could only imagine what it would be like to have a family member deny such an important part of his soul.

He might have said that out loud, if the moment hadn’t been broken by a voice from the street.

 “XY!  Where are you?  Stop being utterly ridiculous and come back!  You said you were going to show me your new song!”

“I didn’t say that,” XY hissed, pressing himself flat against the chair.

Luka sat up a bit straighter to see the blonde girl searching the street, her ponytail whipping back and forth.

“I’m guessing that’s Chloe,” he said.

XY clasped his hands together and made a face that was probably supposed to be puppy eyes.  It would’ve worked a lot better if he stopped making those duck lips.

“Don’t rat me out, man, please!  I know you don’t like my music, but you wouldn’t make me—”

“Please, just—shut up.”  Luka rubbed his temples.  XY was going to give himself away by talking that loud.

For once, he actually listened.  Chloe’s shouts rang out for a few more seconds before she decided he must not be at the riverside.

XY heaved a giant sigh.  “Pretty cash money of you to hide me.  I’d better get back now.  Got some new holograms to touch up.”

“You make your own holograms?”

“Pshaw, no.  Dad has people for that.  They like seeing my gorgeous face while they’re at it though.”

Yeah, he should’ve seen that coming.  He didn’t know why even now, he kept holding out hope that XY would show some trace of the real music inside his heart.  Maybe he really was just a tinny pop beat—but when he’d spoken about his dad, he almost sounded like he had a soulful rock ballad hiding under the surface.

Probably just wishful thinking.

XY stood up, brushed off his butt as if the Liberty’s “unsexy garbage” clung to him, and looked over the railing.

“So. Uh.  How do I get off?”

Luka rolled his eyes.  At least he hadn’t jumped off into the river.

“Let me get the plank.”

When he got done rolling the walkway over the edge of the boat to the street, he straightened back up and jumped.

“Didn’t anyone teach you about personal space?”  He glared at XY, whose blue eyes were just inches from his.  They might’ve been pretty if they weren’t so close he could barely see.

Then, as if this day couldn’t get any weirder, XY planted a smooch on his cheek.

“What the heck are you doing?”  Luka moved to wipe the spit off his face, but XY grabbed his wrist first.

“I just increased your face’s net worth by like, a billion euros!  As thanks for getting me out of that jam.  If you’re gonna wipe it off, at least sell the rag on ebay or something.”  He winked.

“I should’ve left you on the side of the boat where you were hanging.”

“But you didn’t.”  

XY, being… himself, almost fell into the river while throwing his hand sign from the plank.  

Luka snorted and shook his head.  At least watching him make a fool of himself was entertaining.

“See you next time I need to hide from Cole.  So probably like, tomorrow.”

“I didn’t invite you back.  I didn’t invite you the first time.”

“Like you’d say no to the number one chart topper in Paris.”

“Number two.”

“Still not a no.  See ya, Lucky!”

“It’s Luka!”

“Luke, right!”

Luka groaned.  That boy was the human equivalent of an out-of-tune trumpet.

But his eyes still followed him down the street until he was out of sight.

[hellospunkiebrewster]

here is a permission slip and excited, encouraging shove to divulge more about what you had told me about MC's impact on Logan. i love ya fam ♡♡♡♡

Lol, I thought for sure you’d have sent this as one of your obvious anons but here we are, out in the open. Anyhow, time to reiterate and continue our conversation on Logan and MC, here we go… after the cut.

I think the reason why I love Logan x MC so much is that, out of all the LIs and romances we have in all of Choices, this one is the relationship that feels like MC has the largest, real, true, and very noticeable effect on the LI. Sure, MC helps all the other LIs realize something about themselves. TRR MC helps Hana with coming into her own and asserting herself. D&D MC makes Ernest realize that he’s capable and deserving of actual, real love. But there’s something about Logan and RoD MC that is fundamentally different. RoD MC has the most profound effect on any of the LIs (that I can remember) in terms of their world view and outlook. Hear me out.

Logan has never had stability. He’s never had someone unconditionally in his corner. He’s never had anyone care for him for who he is, flaws and all. (Cue Mr. Rogers’ “It’s You I Like”) MC is the first person who he sees as noticing his worth beyond his ability to hot wire a car and overhaul a transmission. He says time and time again that he’s ready to cut and run at the first sign of trouble because he has no lingering connection with anyone in his life and that likely stems from what they see (or don’t see) in him.

I’ve seen people refer to Teppei as Logan’s father figure but I don’t quite see it like that. Kaneko is fatherly in a way– in that he’s given Logan a roof over his head and a sort of structure and routine. But the relationship isn’t healthy. Anything Logan gets from Kaneko is earned and not unconditional. It’s not a parent-like relationship. And honestly it doesn’t have to be, if that’s not what the two of them want from it. But I don’t see it as a healthy relationship, I see Kaneko as manipulative, emotionally abusive, and uncaring (or at least unable to show how he cares). He’s just as ready to cut all these guys loose as they are ready to run if they need to.

Logan is intrigued by MC before the drive in theater, but that night is absolutely when he falls, when he realizes he won’t be able to run and forget her like he’s been able to from everyone else in his life up to this point. At the drive in, he tells her to run and fully expects her to. She had no business in that fight (not only because she can’t fight, but because it wasn’t about her) but she stays, she fucking comes at Salazar with a pipe when he’s got Logan beat, and no one has stuck up for Logan in any aspect of his life until that very moment, at least not when they don’t have an actual dog in the fight. He should be nothing to her. She was supposed to run, hopefully out of his life forever. 

Her staying is tearing him up, not just because of his lies, but because she deserves so much more than this so-called life he has. She thinks he has freedom, but he has nothing, and is only clinging to whatever isn’t the worst thing ever to stay afloat. So far she’s seen the glamorous side of his life: fast cars, sideshows, and stacks of cash. She has not seen the bad. But then, the fight (the bad) doesn’t even scare her off, and maybe that’s the adrenaline, but later once things have calmed down SHE STILL DOESN’T LEAVE. She takes care of him, expecting nothing from him, because it’s the right thing to do. No one’s taken care of him and expected nothing in return. Even if we go back to when he was a foster child, it’s assumed these horrible “parents” were in it for the state assistance as he has zero fond memories of it. He’s never had this type of unconditional emotional intimacy with someone and he falls for her.

Let’s talk about the night where Kaneko get’s beat up by the Brotherhood. Up until now in the story, we’re shown Kaneko as an icon in the community. A feared one. He made Salazar key and beat up his own car with a tire iron. People at the sideshow mention how notorious/dangerous MPC is. When Kaneko shows up they’re shocked, scared of what his reaction will be. Teppei Kaneko is a scary motherfucker. He’s the type of guy you’re terrified of, but want on your side because he’s fucking scary and has done some shit. Even later on in the story, Salazar joins up with the crew, after what Kaneko put him through, because it’s better to have him on your side than not. Anyhow, back to my point, the night Kaneko was beat up, Logan had 1000% had enough and jumped in his car to run that night. That was his limit. That was when he realized he didn’t want to fuck with this Brotherhood stuff any longer. He joined MPC to lift cars, to make money, not to get his ass killed. If they can do that to Kaneko, what would they do to a kid like him?

But Logan stays.

And why does he stay? MC jumps in the car with him. He asks her what the hell she’s doing here as she lists off the contents of a rudimentary first aid kit. He’s angry that he’s gotten her in this deep and terrified of what will happen to her. She’s innocent in this whole mess, up to this point she hadn’t participated in any actual (I don’t count the parking garage, because she hadn’t signed up, she went to warn them). She explains how she can’t leave these people, these criminals, that she’s just met, that she calls friends, behind. Something in that resonates with Logan, and suddenly he wants to be better than what he’s always been. He wants to be deserving of her unconditional love for him and the crew. He knows he can, because she says he can, and it changes him.

She has fundamentally changed his outlook on life, his relationships, and the crew. He starts to see the people and things around him as worth caring about because she does.

[lovemesomesurveys]

What’s the most played song on your iPod? I haven’t used my iPod since 2012. I use Spotify on my phone, but I don’t think it tells you what your most played song is. What is one quality you admire most in others? People who are driven and get shit done. What would you do with a million dollars? Sigh. I’d have to first and foremost pay off my debt. I’d also help my parents and brother out. I’d get us a new house. Traveling is a must. What’s your favorite song to dance to? I don’t dance. Well, unless you count a little head bobbin’ and maybe a little movement of my arms or shoulders. lol. What would your ideal birthday party be like? I’m 30 and old so I don’t look forward to my birthday anymore, ha. If I were able to travel for my birthday then that would be nice.

If you could be reincarnated into anything you wanted, what would it be? I don’t want to be reincarnated. I don’t believe in it. What talent would you like to have? A talent at all would be cool, but in particular I wish I had any artistic ability or was musically inclined.  Are you ticklish? Just my neck. What’s the longest you’ve gone without sleep? 30+ hours. What New Year’s resolutions did you make? I don’t make those anymore. What are three songs that mean the most to you? Everlong (acoustic) by Foo Fighters, Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd, and... I’ve having a hard time choosing a 3rd. There’s so many songs that mean something to me for one reason or another. So many memories and emotions. Who is the one person you miss the most? There’s 3 someones.  What do you think of your parents? I love them with all my heart. I couldn’t keep going if I didn’t have them. My mom and I are super close, she’s my rock. What is one thing you would do to make the world better? I don’t know what I could do. What is your favorite kind of sandwich? My sandwiches at home consist of bologna, sharp cheddar cheese, mayo, mustard, and spinach with olive oil on the side mixed with basil and oregano for dipping. At my favorite deli I get turkey, salami, provolone, mustard, mayo, and oil and vinegar. If you had a puppy, what would you name it? My doggo’s name is Princess Leia. She’s 2, but she’ll always be my puppy. (: If I were to get another dog; though... I’m not sure what I would name him/her, but it’d also be after a character. If you could be invisible for a day, what would you do? I don’t know.  How much cash do you have on you right now? Zero. What do you think makes you attractive to other people? Nothing. Would more money make you happier? It would help with a lot, but I wouldn’t be cured of my mental and physical health. I’d still have that baggage. Money isn’t magic. What is one of your favorite memories as a child? So many. I loved my childhood. It’s not that I didn’t have any struggles or obstacles, cause I did, but honestly that’s not what stands out. I was a strong, brave, resilient kid. Kid me would be so disappointed in current me. What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do in your life? I’ve had a lot of struggles. How do you measure intelligence? I don’t know. There’s issues with the IQ test for one. Grades aren’t accurate representations of intelligence either; neither are exams. It’s a complicated thing.

What cartoons do you watch? Hey Arnold, Rugrats, and Doug. Have you ever used drugs? Only weed. If you were a Skittle, what flavor would it be? The red one I guess that’s the only one I liked. How would you describe your style? Very casual, ha. I wear leggings and oversized graphic tees. If you had to spend $1,000 in one hour, how would you spend it? Christmas presents for my family. What’s your favorite smell and why? I have many. Where do you buy your clothes? Mostly Hot Topic, Boxlunch, and Kohl’s.  What’s your favorite kind of cake? White cake with buttercream frosting, funfetti/rainbow chip with funfetti/rainbow chip frosting, red velvet with cream cheese frosting, lemon with lemon frosting, and strawberry with strawberry frosting. Does intelligent life exist elsewhere in the universe? I don’t think there is in space, but what do I know. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be? I’m good right now. Are you into tattoos? Nah. Do you like photography? I mean, sure? I’m not a photographer, but I can appreciate nice photos. If you were a holiday, which one would you be? I love Christmas, but I’d probably be Halloween cause it’s dark and gloom, ha. Do you have any siblings? I have 2 brothers. If you were to get a tattoo, what would it be of? I’ve wanted to get free bird tattooed on my inner wrist for several years, but I highly doubt I’ll ever get it done. What’s the biggest celebrity you’ve ever seen in real life? Jamie Lee Curtis. I met her at a book signing years ago. How many pushups can you do? Zero. What person in history do you admire most? There’s a lot of admirable people in history. Who is your favorite actor? Alexander Skarsgard. What is the most daring thing that you have done in public? Nothing. Have you ever lied about your age? Only back during the AOL chat room days. :X Have you ever cried while watching a movie? If so, what movie? Yeah, I’m not usually one to cry during a movie, at most I may tear up a little, but there’s been a few who have managed to get me. When The Fault in our Stars came out I ended up seeing it by myself cause no one else I knew wanted to see it and I was in there bawling my eyes out lmao so it was better that I went alone. The Avengers: Endgame definitely got me. Are you afraid of anything that most people are not afraid of? Probably a few things.  Where do you see yourself five years from now? I just gotta take it day by day. What is your favorite candy? I haven’t had any candy in like over a year, but Reese’s are always a good choice. And white chocolate.  Have you ever watched someone struggle with addiction? Yes. Who do you look up to for your style? I don’t look up to anyone for my style.  Who is your favorite sports team? I don’t care about sports at all. How often do you drink alcohol? It’s been 6 years since I last had any alcohol.  What is your life in three words? Blah, bleh, and meh. If you could be anything in the world, what would you be? Healthy. Would you have a pet dragon? If so what color would it be? Um, no. I’m no mother of dragons or whatever. What’s your favorite sport? None. Do you believe that homeless people are dangerous? Just because someone is homeless it doesn’t mean they’re dangerous. Sure, some homeless people can also be dangerous, but it’s not mutually exclusive. If you could be skinny and miserable or fat and happy, which would you be? Well, I’m skinny and miserable now. I’m not miserable because I’m skinny, but it is related to some of the issues I have and also adds to some. I just want to be healthy and happy. Period. If your life flashed before you, what do you wish you would have done? I want to do something meaningful with my life.  If you were to invent something, what would it be? I have no idea. Who would you like to get to know better? No one at the moment. Have you ever had a near-death experience? I’ve had two. Do you fear death? Yes, of both losing my loved ones and dying myself. What is the strangest food you ever ate? I don’t eat anything I consider strange. I’m so picky and basic. Do you think you’re cool? Nope. I’m definitely not. What reality show would you like to be on? None. What’s your favorite thing to order at a Chinese food restaurant? Chow mien, pot stickers, egg rolls, and crab rangoon. I used to love orange chicken and kung pao chicken, but I can’t either one anymore due to the spicy food sensitivity I developed a few years ago. As someone who was once obSESSED with spicy food... it sucks. Are you happy with your life? No. If you could name your own planet, what would you call it? Planet Nowhere. I know that’s already a thing, but shh pretend it’s not. If you could live another 200 years. What would you hope to see? Oh yikes. I mean, the future terrifies me and I don’t want live 200 years, but I am curious about what the world will be like then. Like the advancements made and such. Hopefully it’s not worse... Would you rather be hot or cold? Cold. Definitely. How would you rate yourself? In the negatives. Would you ever move to a different country in an attempt to start over? Not another country, but another city, maybe even another state, yes. My family and I want to move out of here. If you could be a character from any book, who would you be? Hmm. Do you prefer taking baths or showers? I only take showers. I haven’t taken a bath since I was a kid. Do you still collect toys from Happy Meals? No. I heard they were bringing back popular ones from my childhood; though, and I kinda want to get those. What’s the most spontaneous thing you’ve ever done? Uhhhh. I have no idea. I’m not the most spontaneous person. In your opinion what is the greatest challenge the world faces today? * Like, the world or jst humanity? Bc I think humanity is its own worst enemy <<< Most definitely. Do you like dogs or cats better? Cats are cute and all, but I’m a dog person all the way. What have you achieved that you once thought was impossible? Earlier this year I got really sick and it knocked me flat on my ass, causing a lot of issues and setbacks. I didn’t think I’d be able to get to where I am now, which still isn’t good, but not like it was then. It was just really, really bad. If an ex texted you out of the blue, how would you respond? I probably wouldn’t even respond at all to be honest. Do you have a favorite poet? No. What have you tried to quit, but weren’t able to? Picking my nails, picking at/biting my lips, and picking at acne. Would you rather go on a shopping spree with $200 or put it in the bank? Put it in the bank. What was the last rumor that you heard? *shrug* What country star would you most like to meet and why? Blake Shelton. He seems cool. Have you ever been in a car accident? No. Are you an organ donor? No. What is the most dangerous thing you have ever done? Not taking care of myself like I should be...not doing and neglecting certain things.  What is the meaning of life? Uhhh. What word do you like the sound of? I can’t think of an example right now. What’s your favorite ice cream flavor? Strawberry. Wow, I haven’t had ice cream in like 3 or 4 years.  Do you prefer cupcakes or muffins? I like both.  Are you an athlete? Nope. There’s nothing athletic about me at all. What did the last text message on your phone say? I don’t feel like checking. What is the funniest movie you’ve seen in your whole entire lifetime? Hmm. I don’t know what I’d choose as the funniest movie ever of all time. What’s the worst nightmare you’ve ever had? Losing my mom in one and my brother in another. I woke up literally shaking and sobbing. What do you know how to cook? Ramen. What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had, and what was it from? The one that made me a paraplegic takes the cake I’d say. What’s your favorite amusement park ride? Most of the rides at Disneyland. What do you wish you were doing right now? I’m fine with doing this. Who are your musical influences? I don’t have any. I’m not an artist or musically inclined at all. What was your favorite band or musician when you were 12? The popular artists and groups at that time circa 2001. What’s the best pick-up line that’s ever been tried on you? I’ll never forget this one guy in high school who actually came up to me and asked me my sign lol. How many drinks can you handle? I was a lightweight. What was the longest phone conversation you’ve ever had? A few hours. I can’t believe I actually used to spend that much time on the phone at one point. What’s your favorite candle scent? Autumnal ones from Bath & Body Works are great.

[moonsolhyun-blog]

Hi again, it’s me Laina!!! Welcome back to the mess that is me~.  I re-vampred my muse. His name is Solhyun and I hope you adore him, bls.  And don’t hate me for this, but also plot with me cause I am soooo excite!!!<3 TW: parent death, mention of anxiety, depression.

━♡ guess the 22 YEAR OLD MARCH baby just arrived to dallyeong! it makes sense, because MOON SOLHYUN is just as INTUITIVE as the month of MARCH. wait, why do they remind me of KIM TAEHYUNG? beyond that, they seemed CREATIVE and SENSITIVE upon first glance. I heard someone say they’re sort of WEAK-WILLED and FLIRTATIOUS though. I hope they get acquainted here in seoul; he seems to be excited about HIS job as A MUSICIAN AND MODEL

Solhyun was born on March 13th and is a Pisces.

He remembers hearing from his mother that he was born on an unlucky day and it rains every year on his birthday. Though Solhyun has never minded the rain.

He is from a small town in the North East called Yagan and he hates it there. He’ll skate around the topic of where he is from for various reasons. The biggest being that it reminds him of finding his mother’s dead body.

Sol looked up to his father even though he was a piece of shit, but he adored him not knowing any better. When he was seven years old his father told him that Yagan was poisoning the society and he had to purify them. He had no idea what he meant and just walked to school with his best friend.

He went home that night to find his parents arguing, that was when he saw his father stab his mother and there was nothing he could do about it. He was sure his father was going to come for him too, but for whatever reason, he didn’t and took off running. He held onto his mother’s hand until it went limp.

He called the police but nothing was really done about it. His father was never heard from again and his mother’s death was swept under the rug. He was told that someone he never met before was going to come and care for him-- but they never showed up. He didn’t care, he had his best friend next door and she was all that he needed. He spent most of his time with her at her house, only going home when her parents forced him to.

Soon her parents vanished-- so he and Han left their town deciding to never look back to the hell hole. They bought tickets to Seoul and bought an apartment with cash even though they were only thirteen years old. No one asked questions when you had money, that was just a fact.

He was glad they weren’t followed and that no one came looking for them. It was just the two of them and he was okay with that.

The fact that photography was nonexistent where he was from, Sol took a real interest in it.  He loves it and anything art related, that was what made him happy.

He started a youtube channel and modeling to bring in money in high school. There was a teacher there that looked out for him and encouraged Sol to post his music online.

Sometimes to avoid lonely nights Han and Sol would throw parties. It was fun to forget about things and just have fun with others. It made him feel normal even though he knew he was far from it.

The teacher who encouraged him found out that Sol didn’t have parents. He offered to adopt Sol since they had grown close and he considered it. But Sol couldn’t go without Han, no matter how lonely life without parents was-- she was his constant. The teacher offered to adopt both of them, but before Sol got a chance to tell Han-- his wife said no and Sol was crushed.

He pulled away from almost everyone after this just focusing on his music and photography.

That same teacher asked Sol to not tell his daughter Rune why things didn’t work out-- so he ended their friendship as well because it was just easier. He never really gave her an explanation and he feels bad about it. He hasn’t seen her since his graduation when she came to congratulate him despite him not deserving that kindness from her.

After high school, Sol became extremely busy. He worked part-time as a model, full time as a Youtuber to post his music. His popularity grew rather fast and soon he had a record deal.

Despite having all that fame and fortune-- he still remembers the one bedroom apartment he and Han shared. It reminds him of his roots and so he likes to live humbly (most of the time.).

Solhyun is always working and keeping busy despite the fact that he’s been told many times to slow down. He doesn’t think he would know how to at this point.

In present day, Solhyun moved to Dallyeong to be close to Han again after finding out that she lived there. It was private and humble enough for his liking and he missed her. However, just after arriving he was asked to go on tour and he decided to take the opportunity.  He was gone for the last six months and is now just returning to the complex. He is ready to start working on his next album, getting back in touch with those he left behind here in Seoul, exploring other artistic avenues such as photography and modeling again-- and just basking in what he now hopes to call home.

Personality (March Aesthetic):  

Passionate, warm and loving- Solhyun has extreme amounts of passion and empathy for those around him. He is the guy that will rip the shirt off his back to give it to you and express it through his actions, more than his words. He will say nice words, but not as often as he’ll hold your hand to let you know he is there for you.

Reserved, Private and Quiet - When you first meet Solhyun you might mistake him for being cold and aloof because he might not say very much. (Unless he’s nervous then he might awkwardly babble like a cute idiot.)  Most of the time he spends his first few minutes analyzing you and getting a feel for your energy. He enjoys quiet and sometimes just your company is enough. He doesn’t open up very easily with very deep things. If he does share these things with you it means he trusts you quite a lot.

Intuitive and Psychic - Whether you believe it or not, those born in March are said to have a sixth sense and be quite intuitive and psychic. Sol believes in this because he believed it saved him many times in his life. He’s honed this skill, by using it to get a good sense of people. He’s also dabbled in the arts of tarot and fortune telling. Sometimes he used to do it in high school for fun with friends and he’s explored it on his Youtube channel as well. He’s insanely decent with advice because of this.

Insecure, Moody, Escapist- Also like the Pisces and month of March he is moody. His mood can shift just as quickly as March can go from sunshine to rain. His is a deeply emotional person and can be easily wounded because of this. He will put on a hard shell like he isn’t but he is. He will bottle up his emotions and is prone to suffering for those he loves and rarely expressing how he feels. When it finally does get too much he’ll retreat or take a spontaneous trip to get away and clear his head.

Flirtatious and weak-willed - He is very flirtatious, sometimes unmeaning to be. He’s sincere to a fault and sometimes it comes off as flirting. Other times, he is actually flirting. He loves love and is insanely romantic, quick to fall for someone if given the chance. Sometimes his flirtations get him in trouble and he has been in more love triangles than he can count. He doesn’t mean to, but he hates breaking anyone’s heart as it has happened to him so he’ll try to make everyone happy, which often backfires. He will give people way too many chances even when they don’t deserve it, forgiving them when he should stand up for himself.

Fun Facts:

Sol is very touch starved, his love language is Physical Touch, while he does love sex and is a sexual being, just the act of holding his loved ones, cuddling them, and spending quality time with them is very important. This goes for both romantic and platonic relationships. Skinship is a big deal to him.

He loves chocolate and fruit, but most other desserts he can pass on.

Loves music and art more than anything.

Very honest, sometimes too much so. For example, if you ask him if you are a good kisser, he’ll answer you honestly. But if you ask him about a very personal issue he is more likely to bottle up his true feelings.

Will read your tarot cards, palm, aura etc. if you ask him.

Suffers from anxiety, panic attacks and bouts of depression.

He cries easily, but will not let you see if he can help it.

Will also analyze you and get an impression of you upon first meeting you.

Loves the rain, cold weather, plants and pups.

Is actually quite funny and silly once you get to know him better.

He has been called a free and unique spirit before which he takes as a compliment.

Photography and painting, pretty much anything artsy is a hobby of his.

Will act cute one second and then be a complete badass the next, he has a strong duality like the fish (Pisces).

Is a huge dreamer and often seen with a dreamy look in his eyes. Caution: If you look in his eyes or see his big smile you might fall in love. (I don’t make the rules it’s just how it is lol. This is a joke LOL)

Can cook for you and hates a mess, will clean your apartment if it’s too messy and you aren’t doing anything about it.

If you are let into his home studio, you must be really special because he considers this his private retreat.

Loves nature and often will go to it so he can write, takes photos, and clear his head.

Carries around a notebook or often writing notes on his phone every time something inspires him to write a lyric.

Will often be found humming or singing something almost all the time.

Read more stats about Sol here!

Find out about his connections and wanted connections here!

[jordm]

Hudson - Episode 3-6 PLUS overall thoughts

and we’re back - after a brief hiatus due to exams and shit.

read till the end for another idea on how we can better incorporate side characters in the show!

- Oh hello Amy! Let’s count Amy towards the people who like this new app.

- Sloan brags about winning money (through pool?) but then buys a round of beer, so they’re totally cool right? Also guy in blue shirt polished off that beer real quick - a mere 15 seconds!

- Sloan deducts that guy in blue shirt, aka Jade’s friend (will figure out his name later) likes Jade (I tots didn’t see that coming... nope not at all)

- Guy in blue shirt is denying this fact WAY too much which means he does; but then we get confirmation Sloan is LBGT and they bond over the fact they’re disasters with woman! #ladykillers and I am heeere for this friendship.

- Alright i just IMDB’ed blue shirt guy and his name is TRACE. and apparently he was also in Riverdale?! okkkk i defs don’t remember him?!?

- Anyways sponsor promises 500 cans of soup NOT $2,000, which - to be fair MIGHT be worth $2,000 depending on the type of soup and the volume of the  can but OK.

- Sloan gives some sage advice to be “himself” to endear himself to Jade and Trace immediately doesn’t listen so there’s that. Unless himself is the bravado act, then he is himself.

- LOL at the giant cheque:

- Sloan’s ex is really talented and why do I have a feeling Sloan will pull through with the money via her ex? That’s a weird drop.

- Everyone’s showing up to the talent show but there’s no cash prize! Trace Reynolds suggests using ticket money but Jade says no - LBGT Rodeo really needs it and Sloane is lowkey impressed with Jade.

- Oh heeey a Lyndy sighting! Still as cute as always.

- I’m assuming that none of them can pool money together?

- So apparently Trace is funny (which only Sloane knows) so he goes up to talk and lighten the crowd up after Jade announces there’s no cash prize (well - the cash prize is 1/10th of the original prize)

- I really like the montage of the talents - the beer pong, the lasso, the beer pong (for realz, a skill)

- Trace asks Melissa, Sloane’s ex to the talent show WITHOUT TELLING HER. Well... let’s just say I wouldn’t be happy even if he had good intentions.

- Lou asks them both (Sloane, Jade) to WORK TOGETHER and this is really for the best since they both have different strengths.  Just took them awhile to get here.

- Anyways, Sloane meets up with her ex, Melissa and they kiss so I guess they’re back together? Unless we’re talking Lou and Mitch relationship where they kiss then break up in a few episodes.

- Dude reprimands sign owner guy about how insensitive the “tradition” is and i’m like YOU GO GUY! Because he gets the sign back and all and you go sign owner guy for listening!

- Trace says he’s not on Tinder anymore and Jade presses Trace until he says he’s into a girl but she isn’t into him but then aforementioned dude interrupts them and grrrr.

FINAL THOUGHTS ON HUDSON

- this was almost better than season 13

- i want trace to show up in heartland (the show) world, as well as Sloan. Honestly, Jade needs some friends and having LBGT rep on the actual show would be great.

- i like how we see the everyday lives of the characters - er character? just jade? - we’ve seen and we get to know them more indepth about their goals even more so than we do the flemings/main characters from the show since it was just about jade/sloan and all that.

- could you imagine if they focused on only two storylines each episode, maybe one arc per character throughout the entire season whereby the arcs sometimes intersect and the build up to the final ‘result’is slow? IMAGINE, georgie’s illness, slowly happening and then the the climax is the middle and by the end she’s recovered (like how they did it but... more drawn out so we see more detail)

- i believe this also shows what we’re missing with regards to throwing side characters away and IF WE must must treat side characters as plot points i’d love this type of story showing:

Cassandra/Caleb’s life

maybe Lisa in France 

If Georgie goes to Switzerland a lil 6 mini series on her time in Switzerland

Let’s call it behind the scenes, extended scenes whatever. if it can’t fit in the show, let’s give these characters 3-4 episode mini series. whaddya think?

[lovelyirony]

Checkmate

@thormlm

Tony Carbonell was good at what he did. He knew it, no one else did. Why? Because again. He was good at what he did. Tony stole stuff. Not snacks from the convenience store, not jewelry from an old lady’s home. 

Documents that incriminated some syndicate. Paintings that no one in public had seen them. (Van Gogh had a crazy other side to his paintings, it was wicked.) And mostly, scammed enough people into forgetting his face. He was John Howard, Arno Stark, whoever he needed to be. He was not Tony Carbonell. He was just another face in the crowd. That’s how it was meant to be. 

There’s a new cop in town. “Corrupt,” or so they say. Not corrupt, just a little bit more willing to get criminals in jail than most. They call him Captain. He’s also known as Steven Grant Rogers, served in the army for three years, honorably discharged. Awards and honors out the ass, a degree in art history, and a talent for making posters for local events on the side. 

Captain is smart. He knows exactly where Tony’s kind hangs out, where they get information, and just what they call Tony. 

They call Tony “Iron Man.” It’s a stupid nickname, earned a few years earlier when Tony did a job involving a safe. No one knew how he did it. How the safe was opened, because no one had accessed it in months. And then, of course, they don’t look at who accessed it all those months before. Who pays attention the morning cleaners? 

Tony got in, he got out. No combination, just DNA processing. They don’t know how he did it, because a.) the man was dead, and it requires a recognizable strand of DNA to be done. b.) there were no relatives that thieves knew of. 

Keyword: knew. 

Tony robbed his own father, which really most people would have a problem. But as it turns out, Howard Stark was a piece of shit, and Tony really thought that the ruby cuff links and stacks of cash deserved to see the light of day and not rot in an iron safe in some “secure” bank. 

But that’s not the point, is it? The point is that Tony has to deal with Black Widow texting him “lol ur in deep shit” with a screenshot of Steve Rogers texting someone that he would get Iron Man. 

Which, you know, is great. Wonderful. Tony loves that he’s being pursued by a man with more resources than he needs to catch Tony. He loves knowing this all before he gets his coffee, the one that’s flavored Amaretto, and just sitting in his kitchen saying “shit.” He loves life. Wow. Tony wishes he could live forever, this is amazing news! Great, Tony might die! 

Fact: criminals who are convinced that they will never get caught are the worst. Tony has met many criminals who boast and say they will never get caught. He smiles, says “okay”, and watches from the back of the courtroom as they get sentenced to forty years in prison, rotting. Tony knows that eventually, he may get caught. But he’ll get to that when he gets to it. 

Tony calls Pepper first. She is his lawyer that he loves more than life itself, even though she has called him “an inconvenient goblin” and “really, Tony? This again?” She loves him, though. He knows that she does. So when he calls her and says 

“Hey Pepper, I’m in deep shit! Fun!” She knows Exactly what’s going to go down. Someone is onto Iron Man. Which means that she is on standby just in case things go haywire. 

“You might want to call Jim,” Pepper says. “You know how he gets when people threaten you.” 

“Overprotective?” 

“Careful,” Pepper suggests. “He’s not overprotective, you’re just reckless and paranoid.” 

“Those who aren’t paranoid die, Pep. Consider me an expert on that.” Once upon a time, Tony had not been paranoid. 

Then there was a car crash. An uncle who smiled and said it was so unfortunate, would Tony like to go on a trip to forget about it? Dubai, maybe? And then Tony ended up in Afghanistan where he was supposed to die. 

But that’s the thing, sometimes, about Paranoia: it gets you out of some weird situations. Tony was supposed to die. But he’s just paranoid enough of dying that it didn’t happen. 

Tony calls Rhodey up anyway. “Hello Rhodey! How are you today? I am doing Fantastically Wonderful, It’s So Nice Outside, What? No, I’m Not Bullshitting You--” 

“Yeah, you are. What’d you do?” 

“It’s more of what I’m about to do.” 

“If you’re finally buying that Danny Devito cardboard cutout, I’m legitimately cutting you out of my will.” 

“You can die?” 

“This life around? Yes. What’s your point?” 

“The Captain is coming after my ass.” 

“Like...in a sexy way?” Tony splutters. 

“You are Unbelieve, no, not that way. I cannot believe you thought that within, like, two months of knowing about the Captain, that he would even look my way.” 

“So he’s looking your way,” Rhodey says. “But in a ‘I might be murdered’ type of way?” 

“Exactly,” Tony responds. “So I may die in a couple of months to a year.” 

Rhodey laughs. “You’re so stupid, no you’re not. You ate an egg roll from a gas station in the middle of nowhere and you survived. It’s fine.” 

“I really feel like you’re not getting the severity of the situation,” Tony says. “The Captain is trying to catch me. And he knows more than enough about the criminal world to actually get the job done. He knows people.” 

“Like who?” Rhodey says. “The guy’s in the police force. He just got awarded for rescuing a cat, I hardly doubt that the people he knows can actually pull this off.” He’s kind of laughing. “I got your back.” 

“Against the Winter Soldier?” 

Silence. 

“Oh fuck. You’re screwed. You’re so screwed. Do you know how screwed you are?” 

“Screwed as a nail,” Tony mutters. “So I’m going off the grid. I’ll catch you in a year or something. I don’t know. Off-the-grid schedules are tricky.” 

“Don’t do anything weird, okay? Don’t, like, blow up the White House or something to escape.” 

“I don’t have access to that much C-4,” Tony quips. “Bye, honey bear.” 

Line goes dead. Phone gets smashed. Easy peasy, lemon whatever. 

Tony has fine taste. He’s not gonna deny that much. He has Italian leather shoes, pants specifically tailored for his legs and ass, and a passion for the finer side of thread-counts and furniture. All acquired through a man who goes by Bruce and Bruce only. He used to be a radiation scientist, Tony actually knows about him. But then something went haywire, he has anger issues, and refuses to talk about deep-seated issues. Can you believe? 

But Tony walks to the store, unassuming and beige with everything else. Ugh. Tony hates beige. 

“Bruce! I have a favor to ask!” 

“Yeah, what is it?” Bruce says. “If it’s murder, I charge money for my no-doubt-eventual-counselling sessions.” 

“Nonsense,” Tony says. “I’m not doing murder, and the only thing I need for you to do is deny that I’ve ever shopped here.” 

“Why?” 

“Bruce, only scientists ask questions like ‘who’, ‘what’, ‘where’, ‘when’, and the damning ‘why’. You don’t need to know.” 

“You forgot the ‘how’, Tony.” 

“Damn your perception,” Tony says, light and cheery. He’s actually teetering between the line of “Is this Okay or is it Anxiety Time,” which is better than a lot of other lines he’s teetered on. (One was literal, too, which is not good for your state of health if you’re not trained to go on tightropes, by the way.) “Anyway, promise not to tell anyone that you sell me good cotton sheets?” 

“Sure,” Bruce says. “But you also can’t tell anyone where you got the sheets.” 

“Never have, probably never will,” Tony says cheerily. “Talk to you maybe later!” 

And then comes a text. I’ve been assigned to come after you. Headstart of one hour. 

Well, fuck. Just because you’re friends with Black Widow doesn’t actually mean that she refuses to take jobs referring to Iron Man. She hasn’t refused any, but she also hasn’t been given any. 

I’ll double the sum they’re paying. 

They have blackmail on me, you can’t double that. They know more about me than you. 

Even that you like cherry-nut ice cream? 

Less than one hour, Iron Man. 

So then, Tony has to do something drastic. He may have told his driver/friend/low-key criminal hitman Happy to pose as him, buy a ticket to France, and actually get on the plane. Natasha doesn’t kill those she isn’t assigned to. And she’s real good with faces, so she’ll know when he turns that it isn’t Tony. 

Tony actually gets to an apartment in Brooklyn. It’s his back-up apartment, technically owned by his mother. His mother hates Brooklyn, refuses to go anywhere near the area, and doesn’t technically know that she owns an apartment in Brooklyn. Tony finds it funny. 

He’s wearing a t-shirt that he likes, jeans that he hates, and lugging some boxes in. Maintain the cover. 

“Hey,” comes a voice behind him. “Looks like we’re neighbors. I’m Steve.” 

It takes everything in Tony’s willpower to not just whip the knife out of his pocket, but you can’t do that to neighbors you just met. Even if they signed a contract with Black Widow to get you and maybe-kill you. 

“I’m Tony,” Tony says, because he is an Idiot Under Stress. “Nice to meet you, Steve.” 

They talk. For an hour. Steve is surprisingly funny for a guy who wants to kill him. Steve likes appetizers at restaurants, does art as a hobby, and wants to own a dog. He also used to be allergic to peanut butter but isn’t anymore, and isn’t that the Funniest thing? Tony half-laughs and says “yeah, it is,” and then Steve says it. 

“So, what do you do for a living?” 

Tony does a lot of things. He stole a Renoir. He also has sixty thousand dollars in an off-shore bank account. Which actually isn’t a bank account because Tony doesn’t like banks, but more of a dresser in a house in Manhattan Island. 

“I’m, um, tech support,” Tony says. 

“Really? I’m sure that’s interesting,” Steve says. “A lot of asking people to reboot their computers, huh?” 

“You have no idea,” Tony mutters. “Well, as lovely as it has been getting to know you, I need to get everything set up. See you around?” 

“Definitely!” 

Tony shuts the door, sits on the couch, and looks out the window. 

He can do this. It’s like a game of chess: you just need strategy. Tony used to play all the old guys in Central Park in chess, you could probably call him an expert at this point. Maybe. He’s not exactly sure of all the rules, some old guys made up their own. But still. He could do this. 

(Rhodey would be laughing at him right about now if he could see this predicament.) 

[bigskydreaming]

Like, I realize I was posting a ton encouraging people to vote yesterday, but now that midterms are over, let’s be perfectly clear that those posts were made urging white middle class liberals to vote. Because no person of color has ever needed a white dude to tell them why they should vote in the name of damage control even when they don’t like or ‘feel inspired’ by the ballot choices. And the fact is that many, MANY people don’t seem to get that the reason so many marginalized leftists on tumblr speak critically about the Democrats and liberals even at the height of election season is because they’ve fully mastered the art of doing whatever the fuck they have to while already having moved on to worrying about what comes next. And its patronizing as hell to basically expect them to put their training wheels back on until the rest of us catch up to that level of survivalism meets progressivism.

Which we’re never going to do if we don’t fucking start learning to speak with distinction about the difference between groups who are anti-voting or just critical of voting because voting doesn’t get them ENOUGH of what they want and the groups that are anti-voting or voting critical because voting doesn’t get them ANY of what they want and they’re still stuck doing it because at best its a speedbump in the way of making things WORSE than they already are, but hey even a speedbump helps, I guess.

But make no mistake, there IS a difference, and yet which groups tend to get blamed most for elections not going the left’s way? I’ll give you a hint. It’s NOT the groups that have larger platforms and louder voices than the others.

And which groups do you think actually have the MOST influence in whether or not elections go the left’s way? I’ll give you another hint. It’s absolutely the groups that have larger platforms and louder voices than the others.

We all know that trickle down economics doesn’t work, but some of us apparently are still trying to pretend that trickle down social economics somehow works any better. If you were on twitter last night or this morning, there was a MARKED distinction in attitudes from left-leaning users. And that distinction was between White Twitter and Everyone Else. White Twitter were the ones cheering and celebrating and going ‘we did it’ and ‘this is a victory’ and ‘dont let anyone tell you this wasn’t a win!’ Everyone else were the ones going ‘yes, this was good, but we’re not really celebrating because hey guess what? It still wasn’t GOOD ENOUGH.’

And that’s the real problem we’re facing, White Internet at Large. That’s what’s really holding us back. This thing where we’re all happy to sing ‘we’re all in this together’ when we NEED Everyone Else, when even WE’RE aware that things are dire and our most basic rights and freedoms are on the line....

But the second things take an uptick FOR US, suddenly, its fuck those guys, amiright, lol? Suddenly its ‘omg why cant you just let us have this for five seconds’ and ‘sometimes people need something to feel good about, for morale’ and a dozen other things that are basically us flipping off everyone who’s harshing our buzz by pointing out that however better things might have just improved for us, y’know, the ones who were already least affected and thus the latest to arrive at the We Should Totally Burn It All Down Party, that doesn’t exactly mean jack shit has changed for Everyone Else. Just that at most, things haven’t gotten actively worse over night, and guess what? That’s not something we should ever feel okay telling people they should CELEBRATE, especially not if the people we’re telling it to are afforded less privileges and advantages by their status quo than we are by ours.

Trickle down social economics is ‘wait your turn’ and ‘you have to be patient’, spoken obliviously to the ones who’ve been waiting the whole damn time, about things that nobody should ever have to be patient about because its 2018 and we’re still believing the hype that ‘inalienable rights’ are to be distributed at the discretion of the Ones At The Top.

Trickle down social economics is ‘a rising tide lifts all boats’ and ‘hey this might not have improved things for you THIS time but it put the rest of us in a better position to make things better for you down the line, and you did that, so thanks, that’s why your vote counts.’

Trickle down social economics doesn’t work for the same exact reason trickle down economics doesn’t work: making the 1% flush with more cash doesn’t trickle down the social classes and make everyone else more money through the creation of more jobs and the introduction of more capital circling through the economy.....because the 1% have zero motivation to spend their newfound cash on anyone else, zero interest in creating new jobs and introducing more capital into the economy to boost and revitalize it. They got theirs and now they’re doing just fine. They see no reason to change things or expend any more effort than what they’ve already expended obtaining the Extra that they were after for themselves. The lower classes are of no further use to them at this time, so as far as they’re concerned, they see no further need to interact with or on behalf of the lower classes until the next time they need to make use of the lower classes in pursuit of their own self-interests again.

It’s the SAME DAMN THING here. White liberals, as a whole we are guilty of the exact same shit most of us have only lately found it fashionable to despise the 1% for, just in terms of social capital, WHICH WE ALL HAVE, 1% and 99% alike.

This is what we’re doing. Every election cycle. Without fail. Without deviation. Relying on people of color. Talking a good game. Saying how we’re all in this together, we are the future, we have to come together, democracy’s at stake for each and every one of us, blah blah blah.....and then the SECOND we see things turn around enough that WE personally are able to be optimistic again, take heart, see a light at the end of the tunnel, we don’t want to hear anyone else hampering our celebration with talk of the issues they’re still facing. Have been facing all along, that have in no way, shape or form improved along with the improvement of our fortunes. Who personally have ZERO reason to be any more optimistic than they were yesterday, to take heart, to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Suddenly its ‘We’re TIRED,” and “we’re only human” and “everyone needs to rest sometime” and “nobody can stay this energized 24/7/365, we need to encourage people to stop and appreciate the victories along the way when and where we can.” As though Everyone Else isn’t every bit as damn tired, most likely MORESO, because they’ve been fighting this uphill battle long before our own self interest finally dragged us into it. As though Everyone Else isn’t just as in need of rest. As though Everyone Else doesn’t find it just as hard to stay this energized 24/7/365, as though they too wouldn’t like to stop and appreciate the victories along the way, if they actually WERE victories for them too instead of at best a lack of worsening of their present circumstances.

White liberals and leftists, we have a fucking problem (well, we have a lot) but this one’s name is Taking Too Damn Long To Join The Fight, And Calling Timeout And Taking A Breather The Second It Looks Like WE Personally Can Afford To, Screw How Everyone Else Is Doing.

Crawling over to the sidelines and grabbing a water and waving over at everyone else and saying “You guys got this, you’re doing great, I’m just gonna catch my breath, but I’m totally right here, I’m with ya, I’ll tap back in annnnny second now, just....little winded....still need a sec,” only to stretch that second and drag it out until coincidentally, we only seem to actually tap back in right around the time our own Personal Interests are up for grabs again and the focus of the next battle.

You went out and voted yesterday? Great. Good. That was a thing that you did that helped not make things worse and hopefully gave us some more tools with which to make things better.

But don’t fucking celebrate. Not now. Not yet. Look around at everyone who isn’t White Twitter and White Tumblr and read the fucking room. Look at WHO specifically isn’t celebrating, and wonder why, and then stop fucking wondering cuz you don’t need to because they’re all more than willing to tell us, they’ve been telling us all along, we just don’t like to listen to depressing shit when we could be celebrating our own good fortunes instead.

If we’re really all in this together, then we don’t get to celebrate until ALL of us have reason to celebrate. And guess who doesn’t get to decide when EVERYONE has cause to celebrate? Give you another hint - its NEVER the first people to see their fortunes change or improve. 

And if truth is, you’re really just looking out for number one and are secretly annoyed at having to care about how other people are doing when you just want to be happy for yourself? I mean, you do you, but maybe in the future keep that “we’re all in this together” line out of your mouth unless you’re totes cool with being a disingenuous exploitative asshole who doesn’t actually give much of a fuck about marginalized people or people with marginalizations other than yours. Y’know. When they’re not being directly beneficial to your own self-interests and circumstances.

But still. If you voted yesterday, good job. It wasn’t everything it could’ve been, but it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been either, so you can pat yourself on the back for a job well done at keeping things from actively getting that much worse. Your vote mattered. You did that. Well done.

Now let’s get the fuck back to work.

[nardaviel]

Part 6 / ?, introducing seasons(!) and an exciting new supporting cast member(!!!).

Many images contained within. The tags have spoilers, if you care about that sort of thing and if it isn’t already too obvious to count as a spoiler.

Starting out strong again with a chance card from En, just like in the last post. En would definitely go with the experimental piece but it’s a bit nerve-wracking because he's going to be promoted today, I think, if he doesn't screw this up.

Never mind about the promotion, then. :c

Especially if he's going to be pissed off for the rest of his shift. Poor En-chan. I’m interested in Pig Nose Galaxy.

Congrats, Atsushi! Everyone’s money-earning skills are maxed now. :D Maybe this has something to do with the brilliant centerpieces he once again improvised at work.

Poor En. Rough day, I know.

He shouts some forbidden words to blow off steam. Everything seems a little easier to take after that. Nothing quite like screaming “FUCK! SHIT! COCKSUCKER!” in broad daylight in the middle of the street to cheer you up.

Atsushi is making that face because he's a pastry chef now! He lost one of his days off but he only works five hours a day now, so I guess it kind of evens out?

An uneventful day later, Kinshirou goes out to send a book to the publisher, but when he turns around... there he is.

So that night, Atsushi finally learns how to make those garlic decorations. Here are the wreaths! There are going to be braids indoors as well, in case a vampire ever breaks in. The boys aren’t 100% clear on how they work, except that Sims can't get eaten while there's garlic around. So the more garlic the better, as far as they’re concerned.

One of the saddest things (really the only sad thing besides the expense) about building a second story was that Hou-chan couldn't follow them into their bedrooms anymore. I'm glad she can climb stairs now that she's an adult kitty.

I got this far into the game, then took a long hiatus from TS4, during which time Seasons(!!!!!!!) came out. When I came back to the game, I decided I wanted to play around with the new gardening career and the changes to the gardening skill.

So guess who I made.

That's right. Their new neighbor has finally moved in.

Poor Ibushi, I made him a decent house (or the best house I could make with such an extremely tiny lot and limited budget) and then he could barely afford any furniture for it. No floor plan because I don't intend to spend much (or any?) more time in these posts following the Arima household. This is a Kinatsuen LP, after all. But we can take a look at his welcome wagon.

Ibushi: Ah, hello! Come in, don't mind the lack of furniture... En: *stares across the street at his own house* I could be asleep right now, but no.

Look at that grumpy face. Atsushi just dragged him out of bed ten minutes ago, didn't he. That’s why he’s not in the other screenshot. He was still getting dressed.

Kinshirou: Psst. Atchan. Atsushi: What is it? Kinshirou: There's barely any furniture in here. Atsushi: Shh! Don't be rude.

But the real reason Kinshirou is so uncomfortable is that Ibushi's sudden appearance makes the Veil series—in which the triad have a four-way romance with a guy named Ibushi Arima, who looks and behaves very much like this new neighbor—suddenly very strange and kind of creepy. Hopefully Ibushi isn't familiar with Kinshirou's work.

Atsushi has brought the fruitcake this time. He places it on the one surface in the entire house.

Ibushi thanks Kinshirou for coming very enthusiastically. (The shitty lighting, like the lack of furniture, is down to Ibushi's lack of cash. He has §3 right now.)

Ibushi: And can I say, it’s such an honor to meet you. I'm a big fan of your writing. Kinshirou: Ah... Thank you...

It was impossible to make a decent Ibushi Sim, though. As impossible as it is to take decent screenshots in this house with all these people here. I didn't think about that when I made it because I forgot about welcome wagons. But yeah, this is the best Ibushi I could get. He’s grown on me, though! I like him now. But I remember at first I was a little uncertain.

I ship it. Go sit on the bed with them, Atsushi.

Atsushi waited too long to make his move. En is disappointed too. That, or he's just jealous of Avery's fruitcake but he doesn’t want to get up to get his own.

What's up with Atsushi? Is he just pleased to see plants, or...?

Yep, he's just... talking to them. You have real humans you could talk to inside, sweetheart, but all right.

En: What are you doing out here all alone? Kinshirou: Are you talking to the plants? (Does he feel lonely? That’s the only time he talks to our plants...)

Just a reminder: I can’t control them right now. I’m playing Ibushi’s household. They autonomously came out here, one right after the other, to kiss Atsushi’s cheek...

...then to hug each other and congratulate each other on their good Atsushi-cheering teamwork.

Ibushi doesn’t have enough good things to say about Atsushi’s fruitcake.

Ibushi: One time when my grandmother fed us some fruitcake, it broke my cousin’s tooth, but yours was actually enjoyable. You have a real talent.

He follows up with what looks like a stressful attempt to tell an amusing story while Kinshirou passive-aggressively waters the plants. Look, Kinshirou, you're the one who arrived while he was in the middle of watering, okay. It’s your own fault he didn’t get it done.

En has wandered back in and now finds himself alone with their neighbor Avery. I wonder what’s going on with this interaction.

This is the face Kinshirou makes when he's listening very intently. Ibushi’s love of fruitcake must have caught his attention.

After the welcome wagon has wound down and everyone else has gone home, En remains, eating some of the last of Ibushi's non-fruitcake food. Thanks, En.

Ibushi hangs out with them all several times after this, but I usually don't bother with screencaps. Here's a short mostly-text recap of relevant or amusing happenings:

Ibushi sends Atsushi a happy text. Atsushi responds with something to the effect of "yeah isn't today great, let's hang out!!!" so they do, and Ibushi becomes friends with Atsushi before either of the others

Atsushi asks Ibushi if he wants to meet at the Spice Festival, Ibushi agrees because he was already at the Spice Festival anyway lmao

While they're there they spot En lurking by the curry contest wearing this

?????????????????????????????? Nice bracelets, En.

Ibushi chats with En online and befriends him also, making Kinshirou the last one he's not friends with? Weird

But almost as soon as he and En are friends, Kinshirou texts him asking him to go hang out in the park at 12:03am ... is he jealous ... it's especially suspicious because he takes Ibushi to the park that's mostly just a wedding venue. It starts raining as soon as they get there (Seasons!!!!!! best xpac) but they sit around in the rain anyway and become friends

"Incoming text message: En Yufuin. "Hey, I heard you became friends with Kinshirou Kusatsu! He's pretty cool!"" That is the most OOC thing the game has done so far

Atsushi invites Ibushi to the Romance Festival which is a little bit ??? until Ibushi goes and sees that En's come to sell paintings

Atsushi just wanted to bring his boyfriend more customers lmao. In any event, Ibushi splurges and buys both paintings. The diagram can make him focused which is good for gardening, and he just liked the doughnuts. I like how, when En goes out to sell his artwork, he brings a questionable mathematical diagram and a painting of sweets

So that's how things are going with the four of them, although I will say that by the time I start playing the Kinatsuen household, the inside of Ibushi’s house is looking much nicer and he's actually run out of space to put stuff. So don't worry about him, he's fine.

New with Seasons, a calendar that (among other things) tells me when everyone has a free day. Too bad I didn't have it when Enatsu were still struggling to go on a date.

Here's something troubling, though. The house is decorated that way (I think) because all the neighbors' houses get decorations relevant to the next holiday, and for a little while Kinatsuen were neighbors, not the active household. But they don't actually have the item that lets you add, remove, or change out decorations. So are they just going to be stuck with Halloween decorations forever...?

(No. Kinshirou will get them their box of decorations and insist on putting up seasonally appropriate decor.)

Also they need to get the gardening plants sorted out, now that most of them only grow in some seasons.

Look, I'm just really excited about the new glass roofs, okay. (Although why aren't there any white panes??? It looks so bad right now lol) I don't know why anyone would want to have a greenhouse on top of their bedroom but whatever, the game has HVAC now too. I just hope I don't forget the plants are there.

And now they finally have space (and money) for an observatory :D

I don't know what they're going to have beside the house where the plants were. Maybe that's where they'll make snowmen or whatever.

While Atsushi works and Kinshirou meditates, En explains the meaning of his newest painting to Hou-chan.

En: No, like, it’s abstract, right? So the fact that there’s no Loch Ness monster is the commentary on the Loch Ness monster. It could be anywhere, it could be nowhere. All you can see is the water.

For a while now, Atsushi has wanted to host a dinner party and cook for people. The arrival of their new neighbor (half a year ago since it’s now autumn but whatever okay) is a good opportunity.

As he gets started on a rack of lamb and En gets started on his dessert...

...Kinshirou introduces himself to Avery, even though they met earlier at Ibushi's welcome wagon, and possibly earlier than that at Kinatsuen’s own welcome wagon. Maybe Kinshirou doesn’t recognize him because he’s gotten old? I’ve done this too, forgetting you’ve already met someone. It’s super embarrassing.

It's a shame you have to invite 2+ guests to dinner parties tbh because I wanted it to just be the four of them. Ibushi looks pleased be here, at least.

They bought a stereo for ambiance during the party (i.e. it's part of one of the goals) but Hou-chan is terrified of it. :C

Looks like everyone’s pleased with the food.

And here’s a screenshot with just the important people, where their faces aren’t covered. What a nice dinner party. :D Good job, Atsushi!

screenshots that make you go hmmm

I would love to tell you what happened to En but I have, genuinely, no idea. I didn’t see it happen, there was no notif or informative moodlet afterwards... a mystery.

En and Atsushi are both asleep by the time the party's over because they're terrible hosts, so Kinshirou is the only one who gets to enjoy the confident moodlet they all got for their good party. It wasn't gold, but it was silver and that was all Atsushi needed for his cooking aspiration. So! Mission accomplished.

The next day is Halloween! I had to make it myself because it didn't come with the game. The holiday traditions are trick-or-treating, wearing costumes, telling stories, "spooky spirit", and decorating.

This is how I discovered that Sims can love or ignore traditions according to their personality traits. The more I play Seasons, the better it gets. En hates decorating and will not do it, but he likes wearing costumes... take that however you want. Meanwhile Kinshirou loves decorating (although the house was already decorated), he and Atsushi both love telling stories, and he ignores trick-or-treating because he's a snob <3

As soon as he wakes up, En gets in costume. It’s not a real premade outfit without a clippy hat!!

Kinshirou: What is that vulgar costume? I can't even look at it. En: Really? I thought you'd like it. It's from this porno where a guy—

Atsushi: En-chan, please, I'm not awake enough to play referee right now.

After breakfast En and Atsushi harass Kinshirou about costumes, until:

Atsushi: Kin-chan, your costume looks so good! En: Wow, yeah, it seriously does. Is that the supervillain costume? It’s a good look. Kinshirou: Ugh. These plebeian traditions...

Sims don’t work on Halloween, so Enatsu spend it telling each other spooky stories in costume.

Kinshirou, however, changes out of his costume as soon as possible and happily waters the plants.

Hou-chan is enjoying Halloween too!! As she deserves.

That evening, Atsushi handles the trick-or-treaters. He chooses to give treats to everyone so next year their house is going to be swarmed with kids, I suppose. The first time he does it, I have a minor freakout because it seems like it costs §75 to give a treat, but it turns out En has just spent §75 to start a medium-sized painting...

...which ends up being another impressionist masterpiece, and also, extremely cute.

Atsushi runs out back to burn this leaf pile behind their property that’s gotten gross, and that’s how I learn that adding spooky spirit to a holiday means lots of ghosts come out that night... so um.

Being the polite young man he is, he introduces himself. He’s terrified, poor thing.

Atsushi: Ah, yes, um, hello. Nice to meet you. I'm Atsushi. Ghost: I am Paolo. Atsushi: Paolo! Nice to meet you, Paolo. So um... what... brings you to these parts... eheheh...

This is honestly En’s new favorite place to sleep.

The next morning, they're all happy because of their awesome Halloween. Kinshirou decides to spend this wonderful morning up in the greenhouse researching Atsushi's plants, which are quickly becoming his plants.

The greenhouse which now has a white CC roof, thank god.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CONGRATS, EN

He didn't even need the good easel from the promotion reward lol. That was the only reason he was even working, if you’ve forgotten. To get that easel so he could finish his aspiration. But he's so close to getting it that it seems like a shame to have him quit now. One more promotion then you can quit, En!!

Oh, lord, what should his next aspiration be though. There's no ultimate procrastination advocate aspiration... I think he just wants to enjoy his success for a little while. No need to start on something else right away, right? He can just chill out for a bit.

Honestly, though, I was just trying to get him to make another playful doughnut painting like Ibushi bought, but instead he made a masterpiece-quality playful painting that's in all other respects exactly the same as the playful painting we already had.

Can you tell the difference? No? I'll tell you the difference: The difference is, the painting on the top is a masterpiece that is worth §2,000 more and emits much more playful vibes than the identical painting on the bottom.

Meanwhile, Kin-chan has learned how to comfort himself with plants when he's lonely, even though there’s a cat right next to him.

And Atsushi is happily drinking tea that he believes to be “healthy green” tea. For once, En is the only Sim who has it together.

On the other hand, Kinshirou really is far and away the biggest earner in the household. Jeez. That's §4,621 right there. For comparison, that masterpiece of En's was his most expensive ever at about §2,300, and I almost never sell his masterpieces anyway because I feel bad about it. Atsushi brings in a little more than §500 a day.

En painted a second masterpiece in a row. He's so talented. :D That's a strange choice of subject for a flirty painting, though, since they're all dudes.

In the spirit of letting En have a chill time now that his aspiration is done, I downloaded a custom aspiration for him that's just about fulfilling whims. His life goal right now is to do whatever he feels like at any given moment. Very En, I think. Also I never pay attention to whims, so maybe this will get me to start.

Ibushi invites En over to hang out and En brings Kinshirou with him. A fun, relaxing afternoon at a friend’s.

...is what they think but then they arrive to find Ibushi literally freezing to death outside his home. It’s so cold out wtf why isn’t he wearing his cold weather clothes??

Everyone else is in their cold weather outfits! Why are you just standing around in short sleeves, Ibushi!!! God.

Despite the fact that he is near death, En has to practically drag him indoors and turn on the heat for him.

Ibushi: So cold :c En: Hey, here's an idea. Ibushi: Mm? En: Why don't you change into some warm clothes? You know, since it's freezing cold out?

Ibushi: Oh. You mean like this? En: ...yeah. Nice sweater.

Ibushi: *sensing sarcasm* Thank you. It's a shame I can't say the same about yours.

It’s at this moment, watching Ibushi, that I learned that uncomfortable Sims' lips tremble like they're about to start crying. He looks so sad and pathetic that I feel kind of bad, but like... honestly why didn't he just put on a sweater.

Here’s Woody Arima, the puppy Ibushi adopted. An aggressive little bby who barks all the time, but he's very loyal! And Ibushi was charmed by how he tries to be all fierce when he's so tiny. He’s a bit dirty now but don’t worry about that, it’ll be taken care of.

Apparently, Kinshirou is the type of guy who comes over to your house and then spends the whole time on your computer, chatting with other people.

En: Hahaha, that's hilari... huh? Kinshirou, where are you going? Kinshirou: I'm bathing your puppy, Ibushi. He's filthy. Ibushi: Oh, you don't need to— En: No, let him do it. Cleaning things makes him happy.

Presented without comment.

And then...

En: You're a good guy, you know? A good friend. Ibushi: You are too, I suppose. Despite the state of your winter clothes. En: Yeah, okay, whatever. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I don't think I have a better friend than you. Ibushi: Yes, I... feel the same way, En. En: ...You know what we have to do now? Ibushi: I believe so.

So now En and Ibushi are BFFs.

(I know this is a bit odd but my logic goes like this: Only one Kinatsuen couple can be BFFs since you can't have more than one, Kinshirou has to be married to his BFF for his aspiration so he has to be half of the BFF couple, and Kinatsu is a much more likely BFF duo than Enkin. So I'm glad En has someone to be best friends with now. Even if the lighting in these screenshots still makes me sigh sadly.)

Upstairs, Kinshirou is having a fun time doing his favorite activity: cleaning.

Clean doggo. The true Woody!

En chats with his new BFF a little more before he and Kinshirou have to head home to see Atsushi. In the background, all Ibushi’s plants are growing happily. I told you his house got less depressing.

When they get back, En plays in a leaf pile behind the house. What else are leaf piles for if not to play in, right??? We’ll get an answer to that later on in the post actually. In the background, Atsushi trots around being responsible and burning old piles that have started to rot.

Is this what fulfilling whims does for Sims? I should be doing it all the time. He’s so happy.

Atsushi: *singing under his breath* Cool guys don’t look at explosions... they blow things up and then walk away...

Lmao he won't go up to the door anymore. He just stands awkwardly at the top of the front steps for a while and then leaves.

A rare cutaway walls screenshot to show Kinshirou and En not even sharing a bed but sleeping in each other’s beds. (Also, yes, they leave the bathroom light on at night.)

Zundar begins to show his true colors. Although who detected these trace signatures of radiation, exactly?

Uh-oh. Is this his response to Kinshirou's biography of him? An autobiography written under a pseudonym?? Two different narratives competing for the public's attention???

While En and Atsushi are at work, Kinshirou and Hou-chan bond and become companions. :D He’s not concerned about your autobiography, Zundar.

A true modern relationship: Complaining about work to your gay boyfriend while he cranes his neck to look at you from his adjacent computer desk.

Atsushi curls his lip in contempt. He must have had a real bad day. Maybe he just needs to wear his glasses to work?

I am not gonna lie, he looks really, really attractive here.

Atsushi: You know what, Kin-chan? I'm sick of coming home every day with a headache. I'm wearing my glasses to work and if my boss doesn't like it, I'll talk to HR.

I can't believe it took me this long to google "how to edit someones work outfit in sims 4". God.

In fact, changing out of his work clothes altogether and meditating seems like a good plan right now.

He did it! That’s the easel! Congrats, En, now you can quit your job! That is a huge pay raise, though, it almost seems like a shame...

But look at that sulky face. He just wants to be done.

He and Atsushi both came home really wanting a vacation. Is it getting to be that time again...? I've been kind of wanting to send someone to Selvadorada. If Atsushi starts constantly getting the moodlet, maybe I'll think about it.

But before En quits his job, he has a plan.

En: Hello? Hi, it's Yufuin. Sorry about this, a last-minute thing came up and I'm going to need to take all my paid time off starting tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow. Thanks.

The new easel for which he toiled so long. His first two paintings on it are masterpieces :D

Other Sims just have whims about playing in leaves and stuff during autumn, but Kinshirou daydreams about doing chores. Who am I to deny him?

Oh, no... Hou-chan is scared of their nice cozy fireplace too...

Atsushi: Hey, hey, it's all right, Hou-chan. It won't hurt you.

En: Hey, welcome back. You worked hard out there, huh?

En: How about claiming your reward? ;) Kinshirou: What? En: ;))) Kinshirou: ...Ah.

Kinshirou: Very well.

Kinshirou: This is absurd. You come up with the most ridiculous ideas. En: You say that like you don't like it, but you’re smiling at me.

En: Now come on. Kinshirou: So abruptly—!

En: Yeah.

This is my new favorite WooHoo location. It’s a shame it’s only available during fall.

Kinshirou: Ah, you have a leaf on you. En: Oh, thanks. Kinshirou: Of course, you might not be so disheveled if you hadn’t rolled us around so much... En: Oh, really? Should I do it less next time then? Kinshirou: ... En: That’s what I thought.

Atsushi is having a nice time in front of the fire watching a cooking show, oblivious to the debauchery taking place on his own front lawn.

Kinshirou: ...and now the leaves are scattered around the yard again. Perhaps I should have predicted that. I suppose I should get them back in order. En: You really don't have to, you know. No one's going to care if you wait until morning. Kinshirou: I will care. En: Well, I'm going to sleep. Come find me when you're done. Kinshirou: ...I'll spend the night with Atchan.

How are those wedding plans coming along? Since Kinshirou probably won’t let him sleep all day, what is En even going to do with all his new free time? When will they move out, and what will happen to their neighborly relationship with Ibushi when they do? Are they actually going to go to Selvadorada? I can’t guarantee that most of those questions will be answered soon but I can promise that the next part will include, among other things, such delights(?) as Pretty Boy Day and En doing yoga.