#my own souls warning is still my FAVE tho

[chocosvt]

HER | part five.

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

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader word count: 23.8k genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.

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

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

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

all major timeline events are organized through chronological dates

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

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

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

posting a bit earlier tn since i've got work tmo morning! i can't believe there is only one part left after this one!! :o

last chapter was angst up to the eyeballs so hopefully this one mends some of that heartache <3 still, much has yet to happen! this chapter contains one of my fave scenes teehee.

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

—AUGUST 3RD.

The last time Wonwoo had been at your apartment to help you write, it was around the evening, into supper. He remembered the scent from the three-wick candles lit up in the kitchen—bonfire and vanilla—which you insisted was a necessity because it was the perfect way to relax your tense mind. Deciding not to cook, you had ordered Chinese takeout instead, and the entirety of the evening was spent sitting criss-cross on the comfortable rug splayed across the living room floor, indulging in warm food, writing, and letting the TV flick through a random season of your favourite drama show.

It was perfect.

Even now, as he sat on the bench across the street from your apartment complex, Wonwoo could still recall all the infinitesimal details—the fried crunch to every vegetable-filled spring roll, how the candles softly crackled when you blew them out at the end of the night, your small and very sleepy voice bidding him goodbye as you walked Wonwoo downstairs into the lobby—each memory sprung alive with such vividness. Wonwoo wished he could be poised outside your apartment knowing everything was the same; undamaged and intact. But that was an outcome too blissful for reality to maintain.

You had a specific nightly routine, particularly on Thursdays, after work: showering, followed by having a quickly thrown together dinner, applying a face mask, and then a movie before bed. He found himself memorizing a lot of your patterns over the months.

Wonwoo hadn’t texted you—he was doing this completely unprompted, without an inkling of his arrival. Maybe that was a terrible idea which should be discarded for something gentler and less likely to explode in his face, but that would only lead to more ruminating and more ruminating meant less doing.

The thing was, it was nearing eight o’clock. Wonwoo had been sitting on the bench for almost a half hour while the sun gradually sank, watching the occasional green leaf flutter down from the chestnut oaks adorning and shading the parkway behind him. The longer he waited, the further the shadows of the trees stretched, until he was completely engulfed and framed alone underneath their dark, cool silhouettes. Light still spilled across the street, igniting the space where everyone else was strolling, each person steadfast in their pace to be somewhere that wasn’t a sunset orange city street.

Breathing out slowly, Wonwoo glanced down at his hands.

It was like the first time he met you.

Just suck it up. Go do it.

He walked between the trimmed hedges that led to the complex door. The lobby area was exactly as he remembered it, though Wonwoo had come to learn those little complimentary desserts and cucumber waters set out the first day he visited you were no longer a thing, which you had vehemently complained to him about during a brief promenade through the park—another one of your palate cleansing ideas.

“Oh! Those pastries, by the way—they stopped doing them! I heard about it from my neighbour when I went down to get the mail. I was pissed, pissed, pissed! Apparently, there’s a lady who made them specifically for our complex because her grandson lived there. Well, he’s moved out now, so we all got fucked! If I don’t get my cute little lemon square with the raspberry on top and the powdered confectionary sugar all placed in a decorative doily, I will legit kill myself. Something has to be done… hey—can you bake, at all?”

Hence your immeasurable disappointment when Wonwoo revealed to you that he wasn’t notably talented at baking. Still, the incident provoked him to spend at least an hour a night researching different recipes for lemon squares that he could manage to pull off if given enough time and a handful of supplemental trial and error.

Wonwoo pushed the button to the elevator.

The heartbeat heavied in his chest while waiting for the doors to pull apart, the anticipation and nervousness coming down hard like thick snow flurries. A commercial ding at last echoed throughout the vacant lobby. Wonwoo immediately stepped into the small, confined space, feeling his breaths begin to drag, becoming almost audible in his desire for more oxygen.

Without a doubt, this was probably the hardest thing Wonwoo had ever done in his life. Even moving away from the comfortability and closeness of his family in Changwon—no matter their disagreements or quarrels—couldn’t compare to the emotion so palpably tugging within him akin to an ocean tide under a full moon.

He felt every twinge, but he was still doing well to maintain his composure, though Wonwoo couldn’t help himself from fearing that the control might leave him in the cold wind of seeing you again.

To look into your eyes could feel quite dissecting and Wonwoo didn’t know if he was yet strong enough to stomach the scrutinization despite how warranted it was. The best he could do was to expect nothing—this wasn’t about gaining closure, or basking in the liberation from righting a wrong—it was about the effort of accepting a profoundly hurtful problem he caused. You were hit front and centre by the shrapnel and you deserved to hear acknowledgement.

At the moment of reaching your floor, he didn't knock straight away.

Wonwoo stood outside the unit for a moment, removing his glasses and pulling at the sleeve to his large black hoodie, massaging away a smudge from the lens. After fitting the frames back to his face, he knocked. Each breath was fluttery. He tried so damn hard to soothe himself because life was unfortunately not a loop of constant aid and permanent reassurance and sometimes there was no other option but to be discomforted. At least he had his own company.

There was no movement from behind the door.

Swallowing very dryly, Wonwoo knocked again.

Nerves twisted in his stomach and turned his complexion pallid, though it was just on the edge of manageable and Wonwoo would have otherwise been quite proud if not for the lock suddenly clicking and the gentle, slow twisting of the doorknob. His fist clenched, the blunt nail on his index finger picking at his scarred cuticle.

Even when he saw you—Her—for the first time in over a month, accompanying the liminal doorway, staring back at him with an expression that he could use an entire pencil detailing, Wonwoo was able to sustain his control. Still, his heart was fucking racing.

Your eyes were wide, glassy, though somewhat veiled by the dip in your brows that began to gradually furl deeper in their recognition of his presence. He felt his stomach drop faster than lightspeed when a frown twitched into your lips, distorting the surprise in your face to anger, while the fingers at your leg curled into a rigid fist. There was a dewiness to your bare cheeks and a sweetened aroma from your skin that suggested you had gotten out from the shower not too long ago.

Wonwoo relaxed his hands.

“Hey.”

Expectantly, you said nothing.

There was a rolling, emotional sea unabashed to your face, continuously morphing between every shade of wrath within the sticky silence. Wonwoo worried you might slam the door shut.

He needed to say something fast.

“I know what you want to do—you want to close me out. I get that. I can see it all over your body. And, believe me, I understand.”

Your hand grabbed the edge of the door. That initial glassiness in your eyes only grew glimmerier; the frown tacked onto your mouth somehow threaded with even more fulgurant rage. He could see that you were going to snuff him into nothing, like grabbing onto a candle wick with your fingers despite the hot wax and flame.

But it couldn’t end so abruptly.

Wonwoo held up his hands, baring his palms in defense.

“Just—okay. Her, I hurt you. Hurt is even too weak of a word to use. I know that. I promise I do. I know what I did… and… and I know that I must have some fucking gal to come here unannounced after everything I said, but I've got an explanation. I swear.”

There was notable uplift in his chest, watching your grip loosen on the door, fall down to the handle, losing the hostility. Wonwoo paused to catch his breath, ensuring his eyes never wavered.

 “And… if you decide to listen to me… and you still really don’t want me in your life… I-I can respect that. If all you want is for me to disappear and never bother you again… I can respect that…” he felt sick just voicing it, like he could faint at the prospect. “It might be such a stupid fucking thing for me to say, considering how I treated you, but I genuinely want to do whatever will make you happiest.”

Was it good enough? Feasible, even marginally?

Wonwoo didn’t know. He could only stand in place and study the metamorphosis of your face—from deep-seeded anger, to something pained and unintelligible, and now, contemplation. The inner monologue in your head was probably running on overdrive.

Your fingernails carved into the door.

He kept quiet, waiting, until you quickly wiped something from your cheek and swallowed the lump in your throat.

“… Fine,” you uttered in a raspy, weak tone.

Relief struck him like a breeze during a heatwave.

“Thank yo—”

“But if I say I want you to leave, then you will leave, and you will not say one word on your way out my door or spare me one glance, even if it’s from the corner of your fucking eye.”

Wonwoo was staring straight into your gaze, then shifting to the pointed finger sticking in his face. You were deadly serious.

He nodded.

Finally, however, you stepped aside to let him in.

Wonwoo didn’t know if he should sit or stand. If he should grab a stool at the marbled kitchen island or come to fit himself at the edge of the cream sofa. The interior was pretty much identical to his previous visit, though he realized that a few potted plants you once kept by the elegant floor-length windows were missing—he’d assumed they’d died—it was probably somehow his fault.

“Um, where should we—where do you want to—”

“Kitchen.”

With your arms folded stiff, you walked behind the island.

He stood on the opposite side, knowing it was likely not a coincidence that you opted to put a barrier between yourselves.

It was a foolish idea and he would certainly not extrapolate, but Wonwoo wanted to ask about you. He wanted to know how your work was going at the beauty salon, if you had any more obnoxious dinner parties with your parents—were you still writing? To even look at you from across the hard countertop, captured in the quiet dimness of your kitchen, with your soft and bare face and those cute silk pyjamas, was enough to stop his heart if he allowed it.

Wonwoo pushed up his glasses, sighing.

“Before I explain anything… I just want to say—”

“I don’t care about that,” you interrupted without hesitation, eyes scalding and sharp, “I know you’re sorry. It’s the least you could feel after everything you said to me. I don’t care.”

“R-Right…” he trailed off, sensing the heat from the overhead lights as though they were shining directly into his face. Wonwoo pulled at the sleeves of his hoodie, gulping, “I guess you want to know—"

“Why. I want to know why you did what you did.”

“Why?” He echoed dumbly.

“Yes, why. Pull out an entire script and apologize—I don’t want that. Acknowledge what you did—good for you. I’m glad you can see how fucked up it was, all while I had to cope with your analysis on why I’m such a god-awful person. People say sorry all the time. I know it can be genuine. I just don’t care. Sorry doesn’t help me understand. Sorry doesn’t take away the weeks I lost, tearing myself apart. Sorry doesn’t mean fucking anything to me if all you’re apologizing for is something I already lived and breathed.”

“No, that—yeah, it makes sense...”

His fingers suddenly gripped the edge of the island, knuckles ivory white. Your intensity was more disorienting than a drug, but Wonwoo knew he needed to stay calm. Breathe. Listen.

“Okay, so?” You shrugged. “Tell me, then.”

“Why I did what I did…” Wonwoo exhaled, staring at his reflection in the marble while his mind twitched into complete blankness. “Well... I-I guess I was feeling… there was a lot I was feeling and... fuck.”

At the last second, he scraped everything he was going to say.

Wonwoo then looked up at you, who was so cold and reluctant.

“You know, um… before I met you, I had a girlfriend. I know I've never mentioned it. But her name was Jeanie. I met her at the university, actually. She worked in the Morrison library—like, the big stone building that looks like a castle, almost. Anyway. I met her because I needed to sign out a textbook for this elective I was taking and she helped me find it… Jeanie. Yeah. I don’t know if you ever saw her or—she was really shy. But I felt like she listened well, no matter what you were saying, or what you were talking about. She would give you her full attention. And… I just remember thinking… I could tell you anything, Jeanie. I could tell you I fucking pushed someone in front of a bus and you would wait and listen and hear me out until the end. She would make you feel… normal… human.

But—the thing is—I’m sort of laughing because I’m saying all this now, but… at the time, even despite my love for her, and how much I trusted her… I just… I kept her out. I didn’t think it was a bad thing. She knew I had anxiety, but never knew how bad. I never told her I stopped taking my pills. I never told her my actual feelings about anything… like, despite having this perfect person in my life, I still couldn’t open up. I didn’t think there was much harm to it, either. It would cause tension. Things would get… uncomfortable… but as long as she was there, I was like—I can get away with this. I don’t need to really discuss anything. She will always be here.

And then… one day… she just… wasn’t… uh—ahem—sorry, just—something in my throat, b-but, uh… yeah. She was gone. All her clothes, all her belongings: toothbrush, makeup, clothes, stuffed toys, notebooks, mugs, house decorations. It was all gone. I remember coming home to an apartment that was stripped bare. Like a skeleton. She took every part of herself from it. And all I could do was dumbly stand there and look at the bones.

Her number was disconnected, too. There was no one I could get a hold of that would tell me anything until I got this weird, vague email from her mom. ‘My daughter won’t be seeing you anymore. She’s safe. No need to worry.’  Those words picked themselves into my brain. I would go to sleep seeing them. I would repeat them in my head all night, and wake up with them still chiming. And I thought to myself, with all the weight in my heart… how could she do this? How could she leave and take everything and erase me without a word? It had to be her and it had to be the world just proving my point: being vulnerable, trusting, expressive—it isn’t worth it.

I really, truly believed it. I mean, I held onto it. I always looked at her as the one with the issue, but—fuck—it was me. I was the fucking issue. I… I must have made her feel so unimportant. I probably confused her, destroyed our trust, fucked up her concept of love. Like… I made her feel so trapped… that she felt the best thing to do was disappear, because there was no other way out… I made her feel that way. Me. It was me the entire time. And… I never really processed that until you were six feet away, screaming at me, cursing me up and down in the same living room I came home to that day, all emptied out. I had it out with you, the way I never had with Jeanie…

And the truth is, Her… I kind of… I always sort of knew I had that problem. I lived without ever wanting to acknowledge it. But I never really… I-I basically… I didn’t care about fixing it until I met you.”

Wonwoo tilted his head and stared at your quivering bottom lip, the shininess to your razor-sharp eyes, the manner in which your fingernails were sinching indents upon the skin of your biceps.

He paused, chuckling.

“I know I already told you… but you used to terrify me. I didn’t think we would ever mesh. Whenever I looked at you, I saw someone who knew herself, and I was so severely the opposite. But miraculously, I guess, you ended up being the person I feel the most comfortable with… when I see someone strong like you unravel, it makes me want to unravel, too. The trust I had for you was infinite.”

From across the island, Wonwoo noted how your eyes momentarily drifted down. A lump was sitting square at the base of your throat and it took a very dense swallow for you to even speak.

“… Had?” You whispered with a sniffle, hugging yourself.

Rolling out his shoulders, Wonwoo frowned.

“It was the party, Her. If you remember us talking in the guest bedroom… I told you that story about my brother and I, about my decision to move from Changwon… you’d nearly grappled Bells down to the ground an hour before. You apologized to me because you thought it ruined my night, but I promised you that it was fine, that I would always be here for you. And then we split ways. And you… you were… well, there’s really no clean way to say it but—”

“I had sex with Mingyu.”

“Uh, well… yeah.”

You shook your head. “He’s my boyfriend, Wonwoo.”

“I know, I know. It makes it sound stupid but—”

“No—wait. You’re pissed at me because I chose to have sex with my boyfriend? Are you—are you hearing yourself?”

“Her, please, listen—”

“I went through all of your bullshit because of that!”

“Can I just—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“It was because I liked you!”

Wonwoo’s heart was thumping almost audibly against his chest while his veins soared with adrenaline. Your fists were sitting, balled, on the kitchen island, though they began to unfurl as the weight cupping his confession—which was a mild version of what he truly meant to say—hung in the air like the plumes from a wildfire.

“I liked you, a lot," he admitted, watching your eyes slim with confusion, "and I’m sorry if that ruins us even more… but it’s true.”

“Wha—what—no. What do you mean you liked me? You liked me as in what? You liked me in a crushy silly way that’s just for fun, o-or you liked me in a serious way, that’s like, you want to… you want…”

Your mouth hung open, shoulders hunching.

His teeth gritted. “I thought I could… I wanted to…”

“Please just spit it out.”

“I wanted to be with you. I wanted to be your boyfriend.”

Flares of heat melted slow across his face. Wonwoo could feel his temperature climatically rising. Still, it wasn’t the entire truth. His likeness wasn’t just that—it was a fully blossomed and unshakeable love. Though, he figured it might be too much, too suddenly.

“O-Oh…” you stuttered, “… and, you thought that…”

“Maybe you felt the way I did. Not that I’m going to ask if you did or didn’t. I mean, this was over a month ago. I’ve had lots of time to myself. I’ve been thinking plenty… the point is, I let those feelings affect my clarity and that’s why I felt so hurt. I felt like I was so open and candour just to kinda have it… thrown back in my face. But it just seems like every relationship I have, I sabotage it somehow… I didn’t go about us in the right way—not at all. It blew up into something terrible. I wish every day that I would have handled it differently. But I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut when I should have just talked to you.”

“Oh… god, Wonwoo.”

“I-I don’t know. It was late, and I was high—you were off a line of coke for fuck’s sake—I just—in that moment, didn’t it feel… like we were something? More than friends? Maybe you don’t remember everything. Some of it’s a blur, even to me. Like some fever dream.”

“No… I do remember some of it. I remember the spare bedroom. I remember how fucking comfortable that bed was. You were there… you were… helping me… and we... I know at some point we were lying down together but I don’t remember what I was thinking or everything I said… it’s just—it’s a lot… too much, almost.”

A groan reverberated from within your deepest cavity and he could only watch through the warm kitchen light as you leaned forward into your hands, your body slumped against the countertop and radiating with agony. Wonwoo didn’t know what to make of the spectacle, though he chose to let you swim in whatever sentiment was swallowing you whole, your head beginning to shake back and forth.

“Wonwoo… listen… I get that—I get what you’re saying, okay? I get that you have this fucking problem with vulnerability, and trust, and the—the, um—the self-sabotaging. I know. I have that, too. And I can understand that it was possible to misinterpret us…”

That word was like a decommissioning punch to his gut—misinterpret—as though it was merely wishful, ditzy thinking and it was him and him alone living inside the delusion despite the fact you were snuggling up against him. However, Wonwoo bit his tongue and simply listened. He didn’t need his bruised heart getting in the way.

“But that night was just—it was irresponsible, okay? On both our parts. I have a boyfriend who I very much l-like, and… and we’re just—you and I, I mean—we’re good at being friends. And you said it yourself that you’ve had time to think and get past it, so…”

“… Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Wonwoo didn’t need his love to be reciprocated nor did he want to know if you actually harboured any feelings toward him back then. All he desired was for you to get what you had plainly wanted—the why. Perhaps it was unsatisfactory, lacklustre, or maybe it was beyond ridiculous and too inconceivable for words.

He was grateful that he’d even made it this far.

With a heavy, laboured sigh, you managed to push yourself from the marbled counter. A hand then propped onto your hip.

Your nails clicked once against the island.

“So… that’s it, huh?” There was a nasally tone to your voice.

Biting his lip, Wonwoo adjusted his glasses, nodding. “Mmhm.”

Your head tilted straight back, like you were attempting to stop a runny trail of tears from escaping down your cheeks. You suckled in a breath, pressed your lips together firmly.

And then, abruptly, you laughed, pinching at your nose while your eyes squeezed shut. It was an exhausted, humourless laugh.

“Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He didn’t exactly know what it was you were cursing, whether it be the realization of what the fight actually meant, or a reaction to his timid, but expired, confession. It could be that the information was too daunting and you were left with no instinct of how to manage it. Wonwoo chewed down on his tongue, keeping silent.

When your eyes opened again, they fell toward the fridge.

“Um… wasn’t it your birthday? Back in July?” You asked with a wet sniffle, brushing a wrist underneath your nose.

“Yeah… July seventeenth.”

Not bothering to speak, you walked over to the fridge and pulled the door open, pale light emanating from inside as you rifled around, moving containers and cartons and fresh produce. It was then that you revealed a cardboard box. Returning to the counter, you set the box in the very centre, and with trembling hands, you began unsticking the corners in order to reveal the surprise inside—a decent sized cupcake, frosted high with thick, white icing.

You sniffed again, turning to grab something from a utensil drawer, and then another item or two out the cupboard.

“It’s from Terra Cotta—it’s just a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese icing—which I ordered as a dessert when I ate out with Princess the other night. But I was too full to eat it after stuffing my face with pasta, unfortunately. So, I got it packaged up. Stuck it in the fridge. Forgot about its existence until now.”

A butter knife fell onto the island, followed by a lighter and a single pink candle. You sighed, eyes turning waterier by the minute, and Wonwoo felt a twinge in his chest that ached like hell.

“Do you like red velvet cake?”

Wonwoo huffed, shrugging. “Um, I’m not sure. Never had it.”

You picked up the candle. “Want to?”

He smiled. “Sure.”

Rather than keeping the cupcake inside the box, you moved the dessert delicately onto a clean porcelain plate and proceeded to shut the lights off. The orange sunset that painted the streets had bled out all its lurid colour. Wonwoo was just beginning to realize how dark it was in the apartment. You propped the pink candle into the expertly piped cream cheese frosting and ignited the tiny wick. A shivering halo of fire reflected in the marble countertop as the flame wriggled and the wax burnt.

Honestly, he didn’t know what the moment signified—if it was a mere gesture of forgiveness, or just a simple means to release all the tension—Wonwoo had not a clue. He thought he should be looking at the cupcake but Wonwoo was looking at you and the lambent glow flickering across your very upset, still face.

Sniffling again, you picked up the butter knife.

“Okay… hurry up and make a wish, please.”

“Really?” Wonwoo chuckled. “You want me to make a wish?”

“Uh… yes. That’s what people do when it’s their birthday.”

“It’s not my birthday.”

“Well—fuck—the spirit of your birthday, then.”

“You're asking a lot of me, you know. All this pressure.”

“Oh my god—it's just one ditsy little wish. I'm not asking you to write out your will, or solve world hunger. It's one stupid, tiny wish. For the sake of the moment. Hurry up before the wax drips on the icing.”

“I think you can just peel the wax off once it hardens—”

“Fuck! I don’t care, Wonwoo! God! Just—” he watched with a satisfactory smirk as you leaned forward and impatiently blew out the candle for him, “—there! Now, you don’t even get the opportunity to make a wish. Hope it was worth it.”

“So, you made a wish in my place, right?”

“Shut up. I’m cutting you the smaller half.”

“You didn't answer my question, though.”

“You didn't answer my question, though.”

“Hey, I don’t sound like that.”

“No, I didn't make a wish in your place—here.”

“Thank you.”

“… How does it taste?”

“Uh, it’s good. A little firm. The icing is really rich, but I suppose that’s typical of cream cheese stuff. But overall, I like it.”

“I really love red velvet. Especially in cupcake form.”

“Hm. Didn’t know that.”

“I wonder if I could get a dozen ordered for my birthday...”

“We’re celebrating my birthday and you’re already thinking of your own? Can you at least wait until I’m out the fucking door?”

“You said it doesn’t matter!”

“Now, that’s not what I said.”

“Don't act like such a smart ass.”

Wonwoo knew he missed your quippy retorts, but he hadn’t realized he’d missed it this much. It was filling a pitted crater within his chest that had remained empty and stone cold ever since the argument.

As you turned the kitchen light back on, Wonwoo stuffed the rest of the frosted cupcake into his mouth and dusted his hands clean.

He didn’t know what was supposed to happen now.

Stubbornly, Wonwoo didn’t want to leave your apartment. It had been too long since he’d last seen your beautiful face, and half his summer was already wasted to lamenting the relationship he’d ungraciously snipped in half like a fresh garden rose. If you wanted him to leave, then he would oblige, because Wonwoo could never go back on his word to abide by the choices that might make you the happiest. That was what he cared about most, anyway.

From the opposite side of the island, you began to cross your arms again, fingers digging tight into your ribs. Wonwoo could see that the hues of grief and melancholy hadn’t really abandoned your face since his arrival, and the tears that had earlier welled up in your eyes were steadily returning, glinting along your bottom lashes as though they were dew droplets. Feeling his throat turn dry and sensing the air become dampened with your sadness, Wonwoo knew what you were going to ask—he braced himself quick.

“So… um…” you began pulling at the short sleeve of your silk-buttoned top, rolling the fabric between uneasy fingers, “it’s getting a little bit late and I just t-think you should go now, Wonwoo…”

He nodded, pushing at his glasses. “Yeah… of course.”

There was such an evident somberness about the way his feet dragged toward the door. You had walked him over, and now that the space between you was significantly less, Wonwoo had never battled so hard with his self-control to keep himself from touching you—even if it was just a slight, chaste brush of his fingers against yours—the simplicity and feel of your strawberry-scented skin would appease his constant aching. He glanced at you, saw that your arms were still crossed and your eyes trained to muse over the floorboards.

Wonwoo scraped against the cuticle of his thumb.

Does he just… leave?

It felt too abrupt.

He smiled at you, keeping it soft and mindful.

“Thank you for listening to me… I mean it… you didn’t have to but you did anyway and… uh, I don’t know. Just—thank you.”

“Mmhm…”

You were squeezing at your ribs even tighter now, pressing in your fingers so unnaturally deep. In fact, Wonwoo was beginning to feel worried, especially when he noticed the quivering in your frame and the hard bite you were sinking into your lower lip—how there were tears streaking one by one down the slope of your cheeks.

Wonwoo’s hand had been lingering on the doorknob, though it slipped off absentmindedly. He wanted to reach for your shoulder and give it a comfortable, warm massage, but he was still too fearful.

“Her… are you alright?”

After a cautious step closer, Wonwoo paused, attempting to peer at your face despite its pointed direction toward the floor. The question was worthless, he realized. You were crying and choking up.

“Do you… should I go?”

God—what an even more stupid question to ask—the thing he wanted to do least was leave when you were this hurt. But Wonwoo needed to know if it was his presence that was disturbing you.

You shook your head, sniffled up all the wet, runny congestion in your nose. He watched the teeth free from your lip as you gasped.

“I-I don’t know… I’m really, really sad, Wonwoo.”

He thought he might panic in the midst of your crumbling, however, there was too much guilt and heartache inside him.

“I know…” he murmured.

Somehow, it felt so criminal to just stand there and watch you weep, hearing every desperate attempt for a breath as you could only clutch onto yourself harder and let the tears helplessly fall.

Wonwoo swallowed, feeling his throat burn.

“Can I comfort you for a bit?”

You hiccupped, and your face pinched up in complete misery, the response struggling to escape through the large sob you cried out.

“Please.”

Immediately, his hands braced against the edges of your very warm, wet face. The heat was radiating like a summer blacktop, and the tears were quick to pool against his fingers as he did his darndest to softly clean and wipe them from your skin—though, Wonwoo came to accept that it might be futile—and he opted to cup your cheeks for just a brief moment, staring into your damp lashes and puffy eyes.

“Still such a gorgeous girl, even when you’re crying.”

You huffed at him, grasping onto his hoodie and tugging it.

“I need you closer, please.”

Waddling into his arms, your face smushed right against his shoulder. In the dim august dusk that meekly glowed through the windows of your downtown, sumptuous apartment, Wonwoo cradled you, coaxing a hand nice and gentle along your trembling head while his arm kept you secured firm into his body. As wonderful as it felt to hold you in the way he always dreamt of, Wonwoo knew that those tears wrinkling his clothes were mostly driven by him.

Your arms dug into his chest. It seemed like you wanted to burrow impossibly closer, into his ribs if you could, but the desire frustratingly couldn’t be fulfilled. To compensate, Wonwoo attempted to squeeze you even more, though he was somewhat afraid of cracking you in half. Maybe that’s what you were craving.

But he liked you very much alive.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair, still damp from the shower and rife with the scent of fragrant blossoms, “I know you don’t want me to apologize, but I have to. Everything I said to you… it was just stupid, pent-up rage from my own shortcomings… so much was building inside me and I made such a dumb fucking mistake—taking our situation and using it as a target—it was all bullshit..." inhaling a breath, Wonwoo sighed. "I shouldn’t have let you walk out that door… but I don’t think you would have wanted to listen, anyway... you probably would have just told me again to go fuck myself… you know, that was actually the first time I’ve ever been told that?”

Your cheek nuzzled against his shoulder. The breath you proceeded to cough out made it sound like you were terribly ill.

“T-That’s hard to believe…”

Wonwoo smiled, smoothing a hand down your back. “You think so?”

Threading your fingers deeper into his hoodie, you nodded.

Stopping to contemplate, Wonwoo ended up agreeing, “hm… yeah... you’re right. There were probably a lot of times in my life where I deserved to hear that. But you’re the first, anyway.”

“Y-You… you deserve to hear it again… I mean, what were you thinking, Wonwoo?” Raising your head from his shoulder and sucking in a much-needed breath, you rubbed at the glisten iridescent to your face. “I didn’t know… I was just trying to t-tal-talk to you…”

Wonwoo unstuck some small, matted hairs from your forehead, guiding them away with the daintiest movements.

“I know you were...” he answered, keeping his voice quiet.

“And then, in the car… I-I just sat there and cried for so long that the sky got dark. I didn’t know what to do—like, I thought I might call Mingyu but he was at work a-and I had no idea what I would even say to him... and then, I called Princess. And she said I could come over and I legit couldn’t get one fucking word out to her.”

Meanwhile focusing on your choked, heavy sentiments, Wonwoo continued to clean the tears from your face. A warm hand had grabbed onto his wrist, not stopping him—just gently holding—as though you needed the contact to ground yourself, even a little bit.

“The shitty part was… even when I was at my angriest… I still couldn’t get myself to hate you. But I wanted it so bad, Wonwoo. I stayed up almost every night, trying to convince myself that you were the worst person I ever met, a-and that I would be better off without you—that you were a poison to me and everything about you is just a ruse to hurt people. No matter what I told myself, nothing would ever work… because I would—I-I don’t fucking know—I would think about how fucking good you make me feel inside. H-How happy I am when I’m with you. You listen to me, a-and you care about my thoughts and my interests and you’re just—you—you fucking live inside me somehow and I want you out so bad but there’s nothing I can do.”

Wonwoo had removed his hands from your face.

They slid down to your hips. He squeezed them tight, digging his thumbs into your flesh and bone over the silken shorts.

“You live inside me, too.”

Rubbing off your nose, you shook your head angrily.

“It can’t be like that.”

His throat twisted up.

“Why?”

“B-Because it—it can’t. You know I have Mingyu…”

“I only think about you. It’s always you. I don’t want it to change.” Wonwoo pleaded, hanging onto every word—trying to search for your eyes despite the adamant refusal to meet his gaze. 

“But I just—I can’t do it.”

“Why?”

“Because!” You pushed at his broad chest, forcing him away as the anguished, grief-stricken shout reverberated between the high ceilings. Gripping at your head, you started to cry again. “I-I’m still so fucking angry at you, Wonwoo. I hate holding onto it and I hate that it’s been over a month and I’m still processing everything, but I can’t just move on from those feelings! I have to see it through. ”

The air was ice cold against him.

He just wanted your perfect body back in his arms.

“O-Okay… okay. I get it.”

“You do? Because I can’t keep reliving this. I just can’t.”

Wonwoo sighed, curling his fingers in and out.

“No, I—I hear you. I promise.”

You still needed time. You weren’t ready to forgive him. That was okay, and he wasn’t the least bit vexated by it. If he had to wait an entire year, then he would wait. Nothing would shake him from you.

Slapping a palm against your cheek, you shoved away the further tears which were seeming to become an annoyance. Wonwoo wanted desperately to be the one to wipe your pretty face and kiss away the salty taste of your sadness, but he knew not to push his luck.

Beyond the windowpanes, the sky was nearly pitch black, pinpricked by all the distant lights from the city buildings.

“I’ll go now, okay?” Wonwoo murmured.

Folding your arms, you sniffled a little, nodding.

“Okay...”

He wanted to say goodnight to you, but then he thought of that rule you had proclaimed during your late-night phone conversation many moons ago—you had to say it first as courtesy.

Except, you were silent.

Nonetheless, Wonwoo had liked to think it was sitting right on the tip of your tongue, just as it was sitting on his.

—SEPTEMBER 8TH.

When he thought back on his summer, Wonwoo couldn’t believe the quickness with which it had flown by, especially considering how nauseously slow some parts moved while he existed, trapped, inside them. Still, it was probably Wonwoo’s most eventful summer since his move from Korea, in more ways than one. Now, it was back to university for his final year as a maths student, and Wonwoo actually couldn’t be happier for the introduction of routine and the opportunity to test all the inner workings he’d accomplished.

Just last week, Vernon had thrown together a small party in the backyard of his friend’s rental home. He was housesitting, and though Wonwoo wasn’t sure why the friend in question would pick a promiscuous drug dealer for hospitality upkeep, the party was apparently approved and Wonwoo had made the effort to attend.

It gave him the chance to reunite with Seungcheol and Seokmin who he’d unintentionally given the cold shoulder. He was just thankful they were relaxed about everything. The night was spent swapping stories from their summer by the makeshift firepit, drinking cold beers, and watching the fireflies twinkle in the dry backyard brush. Vernon had spent all his time sweet-talking some new girl he’d invited from the club, and when they disappeared inside for about half an hour, Wonwoo prayed his bladder could hold out.

Wonwoo had also invited Sierra.

He figured she was just too warm and amicable and he knew she would get along seamlessly with everyone there.

Since they last spoke downstairs in the pottery shop during late July, Sierra had gotten herself a girlfriend—a patron of the Honeymoon who worked up the courage to ask Sierra out after admiring her bartending skills, as he’d heard it—and Wonwoo was more than happy to extend the invite. Seungcheol had predictably brought along Princess, though Wonwoo hadn’t been too worried. They seemed to be on good terms despite the chip in the relationship.

If you had been in town at the time, Wonwoo would have invited you, too. But you weren’t, instead accompanying your mother on a three-day venture outside the city for some publisher’s trip.

But he kept you in mind the entire night. He saw you in the wide, bright moon sitting squarely above the crackling fire, and he felt you in the colder breezes that whispered the beginnings of a soft, fresh autumn. You were everywhere inside him, just like his blood.

Wonwoo had liked to think he’d done it right. All those conversations he shared with you over the phone since the reunion at your apartment seemed promising—even when they flared and ached like a broken bone—Wonwoo had just wanted to hear your voice and know your heart. Though, the conclusion had dipped him in a strange, confusing predicament he still struggled to reason.

“I think we work best as friends… we’ll always be friends.”

The moment was followed by the most intense silence, and then Wonwoo had shifted the phone against his ear, spreading on an audible smile that couldn’t have looked any faker in person.

“Yeah… I see that, too.”

But he didn’t.

He was still in love with you.

And now Wonwoo didn’t know what to do.

You had come to an agreement that he should no longer help you with the book as it had been a point of contention since the start. Plus, you were now confident enough in your skills to finish it.

Surprisingly, Wonwoo was okay with that.

Nonetheless, he did offer his help if you ever needed it.

In fact, as Wonwoo sat in the small auditorium for his newest elective—the continuation to last year’s creative writing—he was scrolling through an old document you had sent him months ago, containing a litany of the same messily written paragraph, just rehashed as you attempted to find the best wording for it. Wonwoo couldn’t help but smile against the palm squishing at his chin.

Your mind always did seem to work in twelve different ways.

Since he’d shown up early to the lecture, Wonwoo was able to pick a good seat in the middle. He recognized a few faces from last year as more students began to trickle in. Wonwoo kept his bookbag on the chair to his right because he liked the extra space, though he began fearing he might have to move it when the lecture hall filled to a degree past his expectations. Since when did all these people take the class last year? Was it because of the new professor? He spun a pen between his fingers, observing everyone rather judgementally.

“Hey—are you saving a seat for your non-existent friend, or are you leaving your bag here to make sure no one else would sit beside you? Not that anyone would want to with the way you’re begrudgingly staring down every single person who walks in here.”

Wonwoo grinned, the pen stilling into his hand.

He knew your attitude like the ducks on his aunt’s shower curtain.

“If it’s such a big deal to you, you can move it.”

“Oh, can I? Do I get the pleasure of moving your bookbag, Wonwoo? Are you really that kind as to save such a life-changing, personal, and intimate experience, just for me?”

Smirking up at you, Wonwoo dropped his bag onto the floor.

He was promptly greeted by a very shiny smile.

“That’s what I thought,” you said matter-of-factly, setting your iconic cream purse onto your lap after sliding into the chair.

“So,” Wonwoo huffed, leaning back and casting you a curious glance, “you didn’t tell me you were going to take creative writing.”

Pulling out some chapstick, you laughed. “Uh—you didn’t tell me, either,” the comment was wry and muttered through the obstacle of moisturizing your lips.

Scratching his temple, Wonwoo chuckled, “fair.”

“Gosh, there’s so many people in here. Way more than I was expecting. I mean, who even are these goddamn people? I hardly recognize any of them—oh my gosh, do you think it’s because of the new professor? I looked her up, you know. She’s published three books—they’ve all got crazy good accolades—and one of them was even made into a movie! That has to be why. Should I try to get face time with her after class? No—actually, I won’t. Then I look totally desperate. I’ll play it cool. I’ll wait until, like, three classes from now.”

“Well, you’re never short of making an impression.”

“Meaning what?”

“Fuck,” Wonwoo laughed, “what the fuck do you think it means? It’s not like I’m talking in morse code. You make an impression.”

You smacked a hand down on his knee. “Well, how do I know if you mean good or bad! And don't curse at me like that.”

“Okay, okay. You're right. I'm sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” he replied, softening his voice, “I am very extremely sorry.”

That little smile you gave him was enchanting.

Wonwoo cleared his throat. “And I meant good, obviously.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If you say anything to her, she’ll love you.”

“That’s a bit extreme.”

“She’ll keep you reasonably in her thoughts?”

“Hm. Yes. I like that better,” you agreed.

While you busied yourself with removing the laptop from your purse and taking an extra minute to inspect your face with a small, compact mirror, Wonwoo glanced around the room again. A few people standing by the professor’s podium at the front were looking at you, their mouths moving in conversation, though Wonwoo could hear none of it from the general chatter. He supposed you were used to getting those dissecting, curious, maybe even sometimes hurtful stares. There was always a light shining on you, wanted or not.

As Wonwoo pulled open the class syllabus on his laptop, he felt a tap against his shoulder. Slightly turning his head, he spotted someone shuffling by in the cramped row behind him, waving.

“Hey, Wonwoo,” the stranger said quickly in passing.

Squinting at him through his glasses, Wonwoo nodded. “Uh, hey.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Who was that?”

He shrugged. “No idea. Someone from last year, I guess.”

“I see. Mr. Popular. Taking names and breaking hearts.”

Wonwoo laughed, shaking his head. “The opposite, actually.”

You giggled so lightly at his response, and for a very slow moment, Wonwoo saw and felt the heat of your eyes stilling in focus upon his face. He squirmed somewhat in his seat, fingers picking at the rough, dark blue material upholstered over the chair’s arm. But then you resumed staring back at yourself in the compact mirror while applying another layer of lip balm, and Wonwoo had to subtly breathe out all the butterflies that fluttered up from his stomach.

With a satisfying snap, you’d shut the mirror, stuffing it back into the purse that was sitting atop his bag on the floor. He wanted to ask you how the book was coming along, how much progress you had made since he last proofread anything, if you were still engaging in those messily long sentences or had you since learned to clean them up.

But it was hard for Wonwoo to ask.

He studied the nervous hands in his lap.

“So… are you free after class?”

You tilted your head in thought. “Uh, I think so? This is my only class today, actually. No more SSA. I’m beyond happy. No one else seemed to take it well but me. I don’t care, though.”

“No, you made the right choice.”

“So, why do you ask?” Angling your body toward him, you smiled, and Wonwoo felt this pool of warmth expand in his chest.

“Do you want to stop at the café on Sunnyside?”

“Maybe. Is it good? I’ve never actually ate there.”

“I think it’s good,” he said, bouncing his knee. “I used to sit in there all the time. I don’t as much anymore, but it’s a cute place to visit. About a ten-minute walk from here. Plus, it’s nice outside.”

You nodded. “I’ll think it over.”

Knowing that class was starting soon, Wonwoo moved the phone sitting on the edge of his tabletop into his back pocket.

“Actually, can I ask you something?”

He stiffened in his seat, hardly managing a nod. That always seemed to be a weighted question, especially in your hands, and the fact that you were biting the skin of your bottom lip only stirred forth more worry. Wonwoo folded his arms and nodded, feeling his heart beat.

“Well, it’s just—there’s no exact date yet, okay? But sometime in very late September my family is having another dinner party.”

Wonwoo’s fingers dug into his arms.  “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah…” you trailed off, continuing to bite your lip, “and, I basically—I-I’ve kind of been blabbing to my mom and stuff. You’ve definitely come up in some conversations. She made a comment that I could invite you and even though I disagree with her on, like, millions of things, I thought it might be a good idea…” your eyes flashed at him doubtfully. “So, like, I’m not gonna force you or anything. I’ve ranted to you about these dinner parties before so I’m sure you know how awful they can be. But… I don’t know… I mean, you don’t even have to stay the entire time. You could just pop by, o-or, or something like that. I just… I think seeing you before will help calm me down.”

Out of everything you could have asked, Wonwoo was least expecting the dinner party question. It seemed to have a very routine structure and Wonwoo couldn’t help but think that his presence there might throw everything off-kilter and the last—the very fucking last—thing he wanted was for your parents to absolutely loathe him. You always complained about them. Even with Mingyu and Seokmin there to accompany you, it seemed never to be enough. However, Wonwoo would hate to leave you hanging so dryly out in the open.

Even if he dreaded it, you mattered more to him than any awkward or nervous sentiments he harboured about the situation.

“Uh… okay. Yeah. I can go.”

You straightened up like a hair standing on end. “Really?!”

He nodded, pushing up his glasses. “Yeah.”

“Oh my gosh! You’re the best!”

Leaning over the chair rest, you bracketed your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, squeezing him into a quick hug that left his heart racing. Your sweet smell lingered in his nose as you slipped away.

“That’s such a relief… and—yes—for as much as I complain about it, I promise I’ll do my absolute best to keep everything on the rails. I’ll get you out of anything awkward or uncomfortable. And if you feel like it’s too much, I’ll be right there. I promise.”

Wonwoo smiled bashfully, shaking his head.

“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. I can manage a few shit conversations and uncomfortable silences. I’ve got my own problematic parents. I appreciate the thought, though. Means a lot.”

It would be another matter to anxiously dwell over until it actually happened, but Wonwoo was okay with it knowing how receptive you had become to his mood. More than anything, he didn’t know how to deal with Mingyu. The party had been decent. There were multiple people to bounce off and uplift the weight, substances to mellow the tension and distract the mind. But this felt very different. This would be more intimate. Less room for error in the form of lasting, arduous glances and short but gentle touches.

All he hoped for is that it might end better than the party.

—SEPTEMBER 29TH.

“So, I’ll come pick you up, okay? Just gotta text me.”

“… Yeah, that works. Okay.”

“Take a breath, Glasses. If anyone’s got this, it’s you, alright? No negative Nina shit. You’re lookin’ gorgeous, even more than me.”

“It’s Nancy.”

“What?”

“It’s—never mind.”

“Who’s Nancy?”

“I said never mind.”

“Okay, okay. Jeez… make sure you drop the attitude when you get in there. It’s not very cute of you, yeah?”

Wonwoo felt Vernon’s hand grip onto his shoulder, bestowing him a confident shake that somehow only served to reveal how jellied and weak he’d become. But Wonwoo also knew he couldn’t sit inside the mint-scented interior of his friend’s vanilla Camry the entire night, waiting for some lightning bolt to strike him with the energy he blatantly needed. Consequently, his attitude had gotten a bit snappy.

Vernon was right, though. Wonwoo had to find it within himself to relax, take a breath, and realize the time would fly once he was past the initial haze. Besides, you were there. That was all he really cared about. It made the most impossible things possible.

Looking down at the sleek, unwrinkled material of his black suit jacket, Wonwoo gave it a final and deciding tug. He then reached for the gift bag sitting by his feet. Inhaling, his lungs filled deep with air and Wonwoo was clicking his fist against Vernon’s.

“You’ve got this, playboy.”

“See you on the other side, I guess.”

Exiting the vehicle, Wonwoo spared one last hopeful glance at his face-studded friend before slamming the door shut, now caught outside underneath the moon’s shimmer. Late nights in September always seemed to be somewhat dewy and cold, with golden, ruby, and amber leaves slicked against the streets like flowers pressed into paper. Wonwoo shivered, smelling the earthiness in the atmosphere.

After tightening his fingers around the straps of the gift bag, he began making his way up the smoothly paved driveway, toward the welcoming and aglow ambiance that beamed from your family house.

He grabbed the rung at the door, slamming it a few times.

The anxious breath slowly flowed from his mouth as Wonwoo’s mind raced with who would be the one to answer. Feeling his circled glasses slip, Wonwoo pushed them back up using his finger. At the same time, the front door swung open, and in the clarity, relief washed over him like the caress of that autumn wind.

“Fuck! You’re here!”

Before Wonwoo could get a word out, your arms were already thrown around his neck. The hug was fleeting. As quickly as your body was pressed flush against his, it was gone a second later.

“Uh, yeah. Just got dropped off.”

“Oh my gosh. Come in, come in,” you chirped like an excited bird, pulling at his elbow, “I’m legit so happy you’re here. Don’t worry about taking off your shoes. I know I’m barefoot at the moment but I’ve been so freaking scatterbrained that I haven’t even picked out a pair of heels yet. You look amazing. I’ve never seen you dressed up!”

His face began to burn at the compliment.

“I don’t attend many things that require fancy clothes.”

“Well, there’s a first for everything.”

Smiling, Wonwoo realized that he hadn’t really marvelled your dress, but there was something awfully familiar about it—the shiny olive-green colour, the elegant, revealing slit at the right thigh, the thin yet simple straps draped along the open, lowcut back—he then remembered it was the final dress you had tried on from that expensive boutique in the mall. Somehow, the material looked even more stunning on you now than it did before.

His face grew warmer, sizzling almost.

“That dress has always looked perfect on you.”

There was so much more he could spew in the moment, some cloying, sweet thoughts and some very impure ones, too. But Wonwoo wasn’t trying to cross boundaries and he had to respect your wishes of staying as friends, even if it tore him up inside beyond words.

Fiddling with your fingers, you gave him a soft smile. “I’m glad you recognized it.”

The hallway suddenly got very quiet. You were both just standing there, staring at each other, biting lips and scratching skin.

“So, um, I guess I can show you arou—”

“Oh, there they are! Honey, they’re out here!”

Wonwoo’s tender gaze had suddenly snapped toward a woman barging out from an illuminated doorway, a wine glass poised in her hand while the largest, most bedazzled necklace he had ever seen weighed down to her chest. Weathered heels beat the floorboards, echoing between the walls as she stalked toward him.

“You must be Wonwoo!” 

Her hand was gripping onto his wrist and Wonwoo could only prompt a weak smile that was indicative of his racing, feeble heart.

“Yeah, correct. Pleased to finally meet you.”

 “Oh, charmer. Pleasure’s all mine, sunshine. Okay, but—let me get a good look at you. Don’t feel like you have to stand by the doorway, all polite-like. Come a bit more into the light, over here.”

“Mom, don’t pull him,” you warned between clenched teeth.

“Ah, it’s alright, it’s alright. Don’t fret so much. Sheesh.”

Standing beneath the warm and yellow glow from the hallway chandelier, there was notable heaviness in Wonwoo’s chest as your mother’s dilated, intensive gaze wracked along his every feature, as though she were the reading the fine print to one of her catalogues.

“You’re certainly gorgeous,” she complimented, “and that voice! So soothing. How do you not have a lovely lady on your arm?”

Wonwoo’s eyes skipped to you in complete and utter panic.

Grabbing onto her shoulder, you gently guided her away.

“Mom, come on. You’re smothering him, alright? Remember the thing with Mingyu? I told you not to do that anymore. He just got here and I want him to actually enjoy himself. Don’t be so… pouncey.”

“Okay. I got it,” the mom said, lifting her hand and wine glass in submission, seeming serious for no less a few seconds. “The princess of the house, FYI. She always gets what she wants.”

You knocked her touch away as she wriggled your chin, very poorly veiling your annoyance through a grumble, “it’s not like that.”

“Didn’t I call in your father? What’s taking so long?”

“I don’t know. He’s probably hiding in his office.”

“Is that where he is? Really? When I asked him to set the table? Jeez. You spend all day cooking a meal, chopping and dicing and braising and frying, and the man just can’t be bothered to put out some knives and forks. This is why I opened the wine early, y’know.”

Your arms folded, and you appeared so much smaller.

“Seokmin set the table already.”

“Oh! What—he—he did? I didn't even notice!”

“Yes, like an hour ago.”

“Oh my gosh! That boy’s an angel. Raised so well, wasn’t he? You know Seokmin, right, Wonwoo? You’re all friends?”

Awkwardly shifting in his place, Wonwoo nodded. He couldn’t help but wonder where Seokmin or Mingyu were. There was dulled music echoing softly from a distant room in the house. Down the hallway corridor, it seemed to open up into a big living space.

Suddenly, your mom began to wiggle her finger at the bag he was holding limp in his hand, and for a moment, Wonwoo had even forgot it existed. She sipped from her gradually disappearing wine again, her words sounding muffled as they fogged up the glass.

“Is that a gift I spot in your hand, dear?”

“Oh, yeah,” he answered.

Flattening a palm over the intricate jewel necklace glittering down her chest, your mother fawned adoringly, and Wonwoo’s stomach immediately dropped knowing it wasn’t her gift at all.

“Gosh! You shouldn’t’ve!”

“Uh, a-actually, it’s not—it was—I got this for your daughter.”

His gut twisted, watching the excitement and gleam drain from your mother’s face, her smile wiped away like an eraser to a penciled drawing. At least you had brightened up, though it wasn’t without caution, and Wonwoo wasn’t entirely sure what to say.

Straightening her spine, a grin then twitched unnaturally to her mouth. She was directly back into the wine for another drink.

“Well, that’s certainly thoughtful.” Wiping off her lips, she unnervingly held Wonwoo’s gaze for a brief moment, her eyes harder than diamonds. She then turned toward you, proceeding to gesture in a swirling motion with her finger at your face. “Sweetheart, if you don’t mind, could you take a few minutes to just fix your makeup?”

Your expression faltered, shoulders sagging.

“My makeup? What’s wrong with it?”

“Well, the lashes are lifting a bit. It’s not too noticeable in this dusky hallway but out in the proper light, everyone will be able to tell. And I wouldn’t use that shade of lipstick. Remember the tip I gave you? When we take photos that colour is not going to show well.”

“I do remember, yes. But I thought it could match with—”

“No but’s. These dinners are important for us, alright? Go fix.”

Wonwoo held his breath. In all his time spent getting to know you—your likes and dislikes, your pet peeves and oddly specific rules about the way things should work—the one cardinal sin was to never interrupt you. Even when he was fighting tooth and nail against you in his apartment, aching with hurt and bitterness, he didn’t cut you off once to get his word over yours. He doubted Mingyu had ever done it, and he was positive Seokmin hadn’t, either. To actually witness it felt somewhat like a crime requiring swift punishment.

Though, for all that Wonwoo was expecting in response to the rage that had just rippled across your face, there was nothing.

Because you’d choked it down like foul cough syrup.

He watched the fist unclench at your side.

“Okay,” you stated in surprising simplicity, “I’ll go fix it,” still with a sprinkle of attitude that your mother opted to ignore as she announced her trip into the kitchen to check the food.

The second she was obscured from view, a noticeable glisten of tears and exhaustion glimmered in your eyes, though you sucked all the emotions back with a deep, deep breath.

“Do you want to come with me, upstairs for a second?” You asked in a tight, shaky voice. “Unless you want to find Seokmin.”

Wonwoo shook his head. “No, I’ll see him later. Of course I’ll come with you,” he answered, smiling at you with all his tenderness.

He proceeded to follow you up a dimly lit staircase draped in a chocolate brown rug. The house looked quite small from the outside, hidden almost, by the inky night, but as Wonwoo accompanied you at the robust, wooden dresser kept against the corridor wall, he realized just how long the house actually was.

Your lower back pressed against the dresser, hands gripping the edges and fingers scraping the underside of the chestnut.

Wonwoo left the gift bag sitting next to an amorphous, black metallic sculpture that he couldn’t even begin to understand, then dusting off his palms and watching you shake your head.

“I mean, you’ve only been here for five minutes, and I’m already breaking out my seams,” you laughed, dabbing at a tear travelling too far down your cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for it to be like this so soon and I’m not gonna force you to stay.”

“Stop saying that,” Wonwoo urged, tucking his hands into his pockets, “I told you I would come. I’m not going to abandon you.”

You paused, biting the swollen skin of your bottom lip.

“… Okay.” Looking down at the ground, you wiped your damp face again before hugging yourself. “She always does this… she always has something to point out. Nothing can ever be perfect for her. I’ve spent, like, all day, preparing myself, because that’s what she wants, and it’s still not enough. I don’t get it. I feel—” you sucked in a needy breath, pinching at your nose, “—I feel like I’m just some stupid doll she’s trying to perfect, but I never came perfect in the first place, so it’s all a big waste, and somehow, it’s my fault… I know I’m unloading and I’m sorry for that, too. This day has just been—I hate it. I hate these dinners. I fucking hate everything about them. I want to bang my head against the wall.”

Wonwoo smiled at you.

He untucked a hand from his pocket and reached for the clenched fist at your hip, spreading apart your fingers into his.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m listening, okay?”

Though your eyes were misty with tears and tiredness, you managed to return a frail little grin that was deeply sincere. Your hand tightened in his for a moment, and then you were stepping into him like he was a fresh blanket straight from the laundry. Fingers bunched up his suit jacket and your face was warm against his neck.

“I think it’ll be a little better tonight,” you whispered. “You’re the only one here who doesn’t make me feel like I’m going insane.”

Wonwoo passed up and down your bare back with his hand, admiring the softness to your pampered skin and the luscious scent of your hair, though he knew you had probably hated every moment trapped in the hot shower, exfoliating and shaving and scrubbing your body clean. He felt you squeeze onto him harder.

“Can I see what your gift is?”

“Oh, yeah…” he muttered, pulling apart from your heat, “it’s kind of a two-in-one thing. It’ll make sense once I explain.”

“That seems exciting,” you answered, returning to your lean against the chestnut dresser, folding your arms and smiling.

“So, um—if you remember the poker game—I owed you a pretty big lump of cash,” Wonwoo said, reaching inside the bag to grab a smooth, matte box, “and then there was the day at the museum, of course. Running home in the rain. You lost a shoe.”

“Oh my gosh, yeah…” you giggled fondly at the memory.

“I was at the mall—and, yes, I know. Why would I be at the mall when I hate the place?  But I was getting my laptop fixed at that tech store on the third floor, and I also needed wires for my—okay. Never mind the rambling. Fuck, I’m turning into you now. Anyway, I walked past that one store you love and get pretty much all your clothes from. They had these heels in the window. The white ones, which you said to me are actually not white, but a very specific shade of ivory that I couldn’t see and still fail to see, to be honest. And they had that little bit of gold in the straps… but the point is—I got them for you.”

You glitched for a second, and it wasn’t until Wonwoo was basically pushing the box into your chest that you seemed to realize.

“Wait… you actually went to Rosette?”

He nodded matter-of-factly. “Yes.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Immediately, you flipped the box open and began flicking away the neatly trimmed cover of glittered tissue paper. “You got me the Gold Crystal Rope-Strapped and Ivory Ankle four-inch from Mirabella? Wonwoo! I-I was just talking when I saw them in the mall! I mean, you didn't have to actually get them!”

“I know,” Wonwoo answered, helping you pick the heels out from their imprints, “you’re always just talking, though.”

“Unnecessary.”

“To you.”

He was thankful you were too enraptured by the shoes to bother retaliating. Under regular circumstances, Wonwoo wouldn’t ever have been able to make such an expensive decision, but he still had some leftovers from winning the other poker matches at the party, in addition to a work bonus, and he knew that he still needed to repay you those favours even if they weren’t being held against him.

“They’re so freaking gorgeous,” you fawned, inspecting each heel like a jeweller would to their collection, “I can’t tell if I want to hit you or jump on you in happiness. I love them so much.”

“Well, I’m glad.”

“Oh my gosh, can you help me put them on? Pretty please?”

“Uh—yeah, ‘course.”

You gripped the edges of the dresser, slightly sitting on the surface as Wonwoo squatted down to your bare feet. He collected the first ivory heel and loosened the anklet buckle, proceeding to help slide the shoe on until it was fit perfectly. As he busied himself with loosening the buckle to the other heel, Wonwoo felt the ghost of your fingertips brush through his hair. In a spilt second, he froze, staring up at you, who was grinning back in utmost beauty.

“Just fixing your hair a little,” you stated innocently.

Wonwoo readjusted his glasses, nodding. “O-Okay.”

The action hadn’t felt that innocent, and as Wonwoo swallowed tight and continued sliding your ankle through the heel, he was overwhelmed with the most blaring, vivid, heart-hammering thoughts of smoothing his hands along each your soft thighs, pinning up the slippery silk to your olive-green dress, tugging aside your thin panties, burying his face and tongue so hot and heavy into your—

“Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes!”

“Fuck,” you groaned, lolling your head back while Wonwoo finished settling the heel onto your foot, “just in case you didn’t connect the dots, that means we need to get downstairs.”

He returned to height, straightening out the sleeves to his suit jacket. For some reason, there was such an intense disappointment burning in his chest, as though his carnal thoughts were not just thoughts but an actual intent to pleasure you—which was completely ludacris given your friendship and the fact your boyfriend was probably downstairs—that had now been ripped away from him by the shrill pitch of your mother’s beckoning voice.

“Should I take the box—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

You grabbed onto his hand, tugging him toward the staircase.

“C’mon. Let’s get this shit over with.”

And Wonwoo followed, though he couldn’t help but note how you carefully dropped his hand upon rounding the corner into the kitchen, where Seokmin and Mingyu were standing about.

“Hey!” Seokmin exclaimed, pointing toward him. “Wonwoo!”

Expectantly, Seokmin looked like he belonged in a suit. That dark cherry red colour was rather fitting and only served to amplify the glow of his indestructible enthusiasm. Wonwoo awkwardly sauntered over to them, playing with the threads in his pockets.

Mingyu’s suit was more charcoal in tone, with his hair expertly gelled and combed. He mirrored a suave movie star as he leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping from his partly-filled wine glass.

“Uh, hey guys.”

You were hovering at the stove alongside your mother, talking in a hushed manner, while she stirred a large and bubbling pot of aromatic sauce, smelling like rosemary and perhaps cooked off vodka or some other alcohol. There was food everywhere—warm bread plates and fresh salad bowls and artistically painted casserole dishes covered by tinfoil. A window had been cracked open to help alleviate the heat swarming the kitchen, which Wonwoo could feel a little too uncomfortably in the air.

Seokmin grabbed at a couple crackers and cubed cheese organized onto a charcuterie board behind him.

“Don’t you clean up well?” He complimented with a big grin.

Wonwoo shook his head. “Not that well.”

“Hey—” Seokmin suddenly grabbed onto Wonwoo’s shoulder and pointed a finger at him, “—you’re here, alright? That’s an honour.”

Mingyu brushed the cracker crumbs off Seokmin’s suit.

“Don’t snack too much. She hates when you can’t eat.”

“Uh—I made this stupid board. I get to eat from it whenever I want. I’ll be fine, anyway. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Mingyu stopped tidying Seokmin’s suit, instead grabbing his wine glass off the countertop, sighing aloud, “that was a stupid idea…”

From the dreariness to his words and the slouch pulling down his shoulders, Mingyu didn’t seem to be all that excited or even half as chipper as Seokmin, though Wonwoo suspected that he knew the dinner parties to be a complete trainwreck. If Mingyu could hardly stomach a night with your parents despite all the stunning food and drink, then Wonwoo had no idea as to how he’d survive.

“So, um…” Seokmin lowered his voice, tipping his head close to Mingyu’s ear, “should we give him the rulebook?”

“Rulebook?” Wonwoo echoed.

“Uh,” Mingyu sipped quickly from his wine, “yeah, guess we can do that. Not in here, though. Let Her talk to her mom.”

“Easy peasy lemon squeezy.” Seokmin smiled, flashing a sly wink at Mingyu. “Hey, we’re gonna give Wonwoo a quick tour, alright!” He then called, his hand wrapping around the boy’s bicep, already beginning to tug him toward the hallway. “It won’t take too long; we’ll just show the bottom floor! Be back in a few!”

“Oh, uh, I guess that’s fine,” your mother replied while grabbing onto the pot handles with two tea towels, moving the sauce from the element, “but please do be quick! And, Seokmin—do you mind fetching the hubby from his office after you’re done?”

“I can do that, for sure,” he answered, smiling bright.

“Thank you, dear. I appreciate you so much.”

He was escorted out the muggy kitchen and down the corridor, flanked by Mingyu and Seokmin until they reached the living area where the piano music had been coming from.

Before he could issue even one question, Wonwoo was pressed down onto the red, very large-cushioned couch. Seokmin sat on the marble coffee table while Mingyu fixed himself onto the arm of a sturdy leather chair, crossing an ankle over his knee. Neither boy spoke for a moment and Wonwoo couldn’t help but feel a bit frightened as he listened to the elegant, soft piano tune fill the space.

“So… what’s the rulebook?”

“Well, it’s not an actual rulebook,” Seokmin corrected, “that was just for dramatics, allure, etcetera. But that’s what we call it.”

“We? You and Mingyu, you mean.”

Shifting in his place, Seokmin nodded, and his voice dropped an octave lower, "play the game long enough, you learn the rules.” 

Mingyu’s chuckle dampened into the wine glass. “And there a lot of fuckin’ rules, that’s for damn sure,” he said with a scary smirk.

“But—we’ll just give you the crash course for now, as to lessen the overwhelmingness of what it takes to endure a dinner party.”

“Um, does Her know—”

“There are three principal rules; I’ll give them to you quick, so listen good,” Seokmin interrupted, leaning further into Wonwoo’s space, speaking quietly. “Rule one: do whatever the mom says, even if she doesn’t say it directly, or scarcely alludes to it. Makes everything ten times smoother, and gets her to like you, which is very important. Rule two: there is a guaranteed argument between Her’s mom and Her every fucking time—you stay out of it—never pick sides.

If you do get roped into whatever petty, passive-aggressive shame-fest they rake up, insert a compliment. Example: this steak is so tender and perfectly cooked! FYI—we’re not eating steak, so think of your own thing—and rule three: Her is like a freshly shaken can of carbonated soda and she can explode at any given moment. As her dear friends, and boyfriend, we have to make sure that doesn’t happen or else you’ll want to axe yourself.”

Wonwoo furrowed his brow heavily at Seokmin, noting a few crumbs left on his cherry suit from the cheese and crackers.

“How do we stop that?” He asked genuinely.

Mingyu proceeded to lower the nearly emptied wine glass against his knee, clearing his throat, “you don’t stop it.”

“But I thought—”

“It happens every time, without fail,” Seokmin answered, shaking his head, “but you can prolong it. You know, like cracking open the cap and letting out some air instead of the bottle fizzling into obliteration right away. The explosion’s not as big then. It’s easy. You just keep the conversation pushing. Don’t leave any space for bickering. Mingyu sometimes takes Her downstairs, or outside. To be fair, you don’t really have to worry about the last part.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu huffed, hardly amused, “lucky you, huh?”

“What happens if that fails?” Wonwoo asked.

Seokmin leaned back, tipping his head to the side. “Last year Her’s mom spent six hours braising these honey-garlic barbeque ribs with asparagus and stuffed potatoes. Guess where the food ended up by the end of the night? Because it wasn’t my starving mouth.”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Wonwoo sighed.

Bobbing his head approvingly, Seokmin smiled. “Exactly.”

“If these dinners are always such a mess, why do they keep happening? I mean, it doesn’t seem like anybody enjoys them.”

Fiddling with the thick folded cuff of his dress shirt, Seokmin shrugged. “I don’t know, to be honest. They used to a be a lot bigger in the past. Way more relatives and family friends. Just get-together's with a lot of food and drink and intoxicatedness. A way to maintain community and repore or something. But it’s shrunk down over the years. I still can’t tell if that makes it better or worse.”

Mingyu rubbed tiresomely down his neck, somewhat wincing as he massaged a sore spot. “It definitely makes it worse.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Seokmin agreed, “it puts more pressure on the rest of us… anyway, I should grab ‘the hubby’ as per request.”

Snickering, Mingyu flashed his pointed canine teeth and raised the wine back to his lips. “Makes your skin crawl, doesn’t it?”

With an uneased laugh, Seokmin smirked. “Every time.”

As the boy disappeared down a dark hallway to the right of the large living area, Wonwoo assumed he and Mingyu might return to the kitchen as it was probably not the best idea—leaving you alone for too long with your nitpicking mother—but when Wonwoo began lifting himself from the plump couch cushions he was sunken into, Mingyu’s hand touched at his shoulder to stop him.

In an instant, trepidation surged throughout his body.

Wonwoo’s face had most certainly gone white, though the lighting in the living room was too warm and orangey to tell.

“I just wanna talk to you about something real quick,” Mingyu said, stretching forward to leave his empty glass on the marbled table.

“Oh—um, okay.”

When he thought about the past few months, Wonwoo realized he hadn’t even spoke to Mingyu since the blowout party back in June. So much had happened since then, good and bad. Wonwoo could only suspect that he was about to hear the worst talking-to in his life, though he attempted to feign the terror for casualness.

Mingyu swooped a hand behind his ear, brushing back his perfectly styled hair, and looked to Wonwoo almost… forgivingly?

“I know you and I haven’t seen each other since the party at Seungcheol’s. I know some shit went down between you and Her and that it really blew up and you guys weren’t talking for a bit. She said, like, it was something to do with the book she’s writing and you were having differences about the direction and it kinda exploded.”

Wonwoo prayed it was imperceptible, the gigantic breath of relief he fought to exhale without too much giveaway, knowing that you hadn’t told Mingyu the truth to the argument. He was happy about your work-around, though he didn’t know if it was… morally right… that you opted not to tell your boyfriend—the person you supposedly trusted most—one of your biggest miseries.

“Oh… yeah,” Wonwoo exhaled, “it got pretty ugly.”

Mingyu nodded. “I honestly don’t even know if she’s still working on it. She doesn’t tell me about it. I don’t get why it’s so fuckin’ important to her but… I digress. Anyway, like Seokmin said, you’re here now, so you two obviously hashed it out. She seems to really appreciate you as a friend. And—hey—it helps takes some of the weight off my shoulders, y’know? Girl’s a fuckin’ handful sometimes.”

Wonwoo swallowed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation and the alcohol he was beginning to smell from the boy’s clothes. He understood the situation was stressful for Mingyu, that he might be teetering between things absentmindedly, yet he nonetheless questioned what Mingyu’s intentions even were with you.

“Well, uh… I really enjoy spending time with her, too,” he murmured as Mingyu reclaimed his emptied wine glass.

There was a strong grip on his shoulder, shaking it.

“You’re a good person, man. Seriously.”

Using Wonwoo as a support crutch, Mingyu heaved onto his feet, then proceeded to straighten out his charcoal suit jacket.

“M’kay, I’m going back to the kitchen. We’re probably gonna eat soon so don’t spend too long losing your head out here.”

“Yeah, got it.”

He watched Mingyu amble down the long and subtly aglow corridor, carrying his wine glass low at the hip until reaching the threshold to the kitchen. You had suddenly popped out, stumbling into him with a smile and some hushed words that were impossible to comprehend as Wonwoo sat alone, listening to the jazzy piano tunes from the record player. After nipping a quick kiss against your boyfriend’s lips, you entered the living room with a crooked head.

“What’chya doing out here?” You inquired, pressing a hand against the grand, wooden frame adorning the entry way.

Wonwoo grabbed at his knees while pulling himself up.

“Just a quick pep talk. And a fly-by of some rules.”

“Oh,” you chuckled, “Seokmin’s crash course, was it?”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes I call him John Green just to piss him off.”

Wonwoo smiled, stepping around the marble coffee table. “I feel like that might serve to stroke Seokmin’s ego above all.”

“No, it starts to irritate him after a while. You should know at this point I can piss off just about anybody. Even Seokmin. It’s a talent. Though I don’t think it’s enough for me anymore. I want to start pushing people to rock bottom or I haven’t done enough.”

There was a teasing sparkle in your eye as Wonwoo approached you. He could smell all that deliciously cooked food from down the corridor and his stomach was certainly responding to it.

“I can get you there,” Wonwoo said. “Don’t stress.”

“Forgot to fix my makeup. Want to come with me?”

He agreed, and you began to guide him across the living room, swathed in all its expensive mahogany fabrics, obtuse looking vases, and jade-green lamp shades that reminded him of late-night study sessions at the campus library. You pulled him past a wide shelf that was organized with much smaller, glazed sculptures that caught his attention as they lowly glimmered in the mellow light.

“Woah,” he gripped at your wrist, stopping your swift walk, “someone in your family loves ceramics, I’m guessing?”

You ricocheted back into his side, then taking a few seconds to adjust some invisible flaws in your hair before responding.

“That’s just some pottery I did when I was younger.”

Wonwoo squinted at you. “Really?”

“Mmhm.”

“You took classes?”

Shrugging, you muttered a simple, “yeah.”

“Is that why you were so interested in that vase back at my apartment?” When you continued to stare at him blankly, Wonwoo cleared his throat and reiterated, “the red one? It was really round at the bottom, but the stem was tall and skinny. You really liked it.”

“Oh—yeah—sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve last been to your apartment. I don’t know if that’s why I liked it. Probably.”

He smiled at you inquisitively. “I’m surprised you never mentioned that to me, considering my landlord is a ceramics teacher. I mean, as you know.”

Your eyes seemed reminiscent and adrift, glancing from sculpture to sculpture—lopsided teapots, poorly shaped toadstools, crooked little spoons—there were a plethora of your small creations laid across the shelf, gathering dust and appearing untended to.

Wonwoo cleared his throat, hands buried in his pockets. “I just didn’t peg you as someone who liked getting their hands dirty. I suppose it’s different when you’re younger, though.”

Pursing your lip, you nodded. “Things are always different when you’re young. My mom used to use the spoons I made to scoop sugar into her coffees. But she doesn’t drink coffee anymore. Just wine.”

“Well, it’s nice she appreciated your effort.”

There was a beat of silence. Your expression twitched.

“I had to beg to take those classes, y’know?”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow at you. “How come?”

Your arms folded, and you shrugged again. “My parents honestly saw it as a distraction. I mean, why let your daughter play with some clay when she can hardly pass her math tests. But there was this super artsy girl in our recreational class who always made the best teacups from the clay, and she would paint them so beautifully… I wanted to be able to do what she did. So I asked my parents again and again and again until they fucking gave up and found a pottery class to enroll me in. Although, I'm pretty sure they supposed I would drop it sooner or later. Like it was just an itch I had to scratch. It was in this little art shop that looked similar to your landlord's.”

He smiled at you. “Was your instructor a polish lady?”

“No, she was not polish,” your head shook as you swept some dust from the black shelf, rubbing your fingers together, “I remember that much, but I don’t remember her name. It was after a flower, though. Something too complicated for my eleven-year-old brain to retain.”

“Probably Chrysanthemum or some shit,” Wonwoo muttered.

You laughed at his comment, “probably.”

“… Well, you must have liked it. You made so much stuff.”

“Oh, I loved it. I mean, looking at some of this stuff now, it’s not that great. But I didn’t really care that much at the time.”

“Considering you were a child, it’s pretty damn good.”

Wonwoo felt your elbow dig shallowly into his ribs. “Don’t try to flatter eleven-year-old me,” you warned him. “If you would have seen the other girl’s creations, mine would turn from pretty damn good to: well, at least she tried something new!”

“No,” Wonwoo chuckled, “that’s dumb.”

“Honestly, there was so much stuff that I made. More than half of it’s not even on this shelf. There wouldn’t be enough space.”

“Shit. What happened to it?”

You pinched at the olive fabric of your dress, massaging the silk between your fingertips for a moment while examining each and every sculpture moulded and grooved by your tiny childhood hands.

“My favourite part was destroying it,” you answered.

Wonwoo narrowed his brow, “I don’t think I could do that to something I spent so much effort and time creating.”

“Yeah, and that’s all good and fine,” you reasoned, adjusting your shoulders, “but I just didn’t see it like that, I guess...”

Intrigued, Wonwoo smiled at you. “How did you see it, then?”

For a moment, you thought, staring off into space.

 “Well, I just don’t understand why people are so afraid of things being ephemeral. When you’re an artist, or a writer, or a musician, I feel like you want to make something that will last forever, transcend eras, touch people for a lifetime, or, I don’t know—you want it to stay preserved, like when they embalm things. But I feel like there’s just as much worth and importance to the things that hardly last at all. I feel like there’s so much freedom and self-assurance in building something up and then crushing it down.

That’s what I loved about it. When the clay would explode from between my fingers and stick into the lines of my palms because I was squeezing it so hard—it just felt good. Like it was supposed to happen. Like I was letting go. It doesn’t have to mean I… failed. It doesn’t have to mean I’m good at it either… I guess I just want to enjoy things without the burden of having to prove I deserve to enjoy them. Why can't I just do it? Why can't it just be between me and myself, you know? Why can't I decide what to take from it?"

Wonwoo nodded at you.

Contrarily, that was the opposite to his own beliefs surrounding his art, and maybe even his life. Wonwoo could never let things go, nor was he sure when that quality had permanently wedged its way into his human nature. For some reason, Wonwoo saw the past memory where his older brother had scampered away into the bushes surrounding the public pool during that game of Lifeguard all those hot summers ago, leaving an adolescent Wonwoo to get dragged from the water and thrown onto the sun-scorched concrete as everyone watched.

He saw the fuzzy, white glow that beamed from his laptop left open in the darkness, sitting still with all those pages he wrote, and yet to be filled with the words that he could never string together.

Unlike you, Wonwoo had never figured out the mechanism to letting things go. Instead, he held everything—between his fingers, across his shoulders, on his tongue, under his skin, deep inside his chest. Hence, for a split second, he was incredibly jealous that it seemed you could live without weight. You were just a breeze.

And just like everyone else, you were still discovering yourself.

“Anyway. That’s my take on it."

"Why'd you stop? This seemed like such a big part of you."

You flicked your eyes around, shrugging. "Things got in the way."

Wonwoo wondered what things, though he didn't ask.

"But we should hurry. Dinner will be ready soon and my mom will flip if we’re not at the table in time. She interprets it as ‘we don’t care’ and that will open a can of worms nobody wants to see.”

You sighed, then grabbing onto Wonwoo’s arm to pull him down another mysterious, long corridor in your maze of a house.

“Oh, Mingyu, that’s brilliant! I’m so glad the interview went well! I had him slip in a good word for you, too. But I’m sure you put the nail in the coffin. Walking straight into a promotion, you know, that’s something so hard to come by. You’ll settle just perfectly.”

“Yeah, thanks. To you as well. That word went a long way.”

“Making the right connections is certainly key.”

“It is. But I’m just lucky, is all. Your daughter is the real key. She’s given me so much—you all have—I just wanna let you know how grateful I am. Seriously. You’re some of the kindest people.”

“Shush! Before I give you a lash from this towel. It’s been sitting under the potato tray so it’s nice and hot… I’m so excited for your future together. A real power-couple! That’s for sure.”

“Hm. Yeah.”

Wonwoo was pressed flush to the wall just outside the kitchen, simultaneously holding his breath while listening to the conversation between your mother and Mingyu as everyone was presumably sat around the dressed table. Your fingers were hurriedly ruffling out some wrinkles in his tie while you repeatedly cursed at both your tardiness, and he simply let you do what you pleased. After a half-second adjustment made to his collar, you wasted not an instant more—Wonwoo was suddenly thrust into the warm kitchen with you impatiently in tow.

As expected, everyone was sat and waiting. Even your father had been at last pulled from his study, and he was positioned at the head of the long dinner table while twiddling a fork around in his fingers.

Your mother had an elbow propped on Mingyu’s chair.

She was the only one standing.

“Quick,” you whispered into Wonwoo’s ear, practically shoving him down into the empty seat beside Seokmin, “sit there.”

Upon the nervous side-eye that his friend shot at Wonwoo, he suspected that he may have just wriggled his way into an unfortunate ticket straight to hell. You held up the flowy, billowing silk of your olive dress while making your way to the seat across from him and beside a very unenthused-looking Mingyu, who was evidently chewing on his inner cheek. Wonwoo caught Mingyu’s stare for no less than a second, and there was nearly enough electricity in the glance to make a crackle.

A few more dishes had been squeezed onto the table since he was last in the kitchen. Despite the fact there was only six people eating, nearly every corner and crevice of the table was occupied. Your mother had cooked enough to feed an entire party, unless she was planning on sending everyone home with tupperwares full of leftovers.

“Looks super delicious,” Seokmin complimented.

Mingyu nodded in agreement. “Smells even better.”

Wonwoo didn’t know if he was also supposed to throw out some off-the-tongue compliment and keep the train chugging. The atmosphere was just so heavy—everything felt like an extreme effort—he could hardly breathe without the sensation of his lungs itching, as though they were adorned in cobwebs. Unconsciously, he’d started picking at his thumb, his appetite disappearing by the second in place of dread.

“You boys are so lovely, thank you,” your mother commented, straightening out the orange tea towel in her hand while continuing to lean into the side of Mingyu’s chair. “This was all a labour of love.”

Seokmin flashed a picturesque smile that Wonwoo had seen many times before. “Well, I’m feeling the love. That’s for sure. Are we ready to dig in all?” Still, there was a bit of anxious haste in his actions. 

“One moment, first,” your mother stated, pausing Seokmin in his reach for a large casserole spoon. Wonwoo clasped his hands together even tighter as she said, “we’re going to wait a few minutes more.”

You had pulled out your chair, but you didn’t sit.

“Mom, I was just fixing my makeup. That’s what you asked me to do. There’s no reason to make everyone keep waiting.” You removed the towel from her hand and laced it through the oven handlebar. “Just take a seat, okay? I’ll start making everyone’s plates if they pass them.”

She smiled at you. “Well, that’s a very sweet gesture. But it doesn’t take long to fix an unstuck lash or change a lipstick. You’ve got yourself a makeup chair. You should know better than anyone, my love.”

Wonwoo hated this—he hated the way your mother’s criticizing was buttered up nice with a practiced, insincere smile and a crooning voice. He hated the way Mingyu was pushing fingers against the knot in his stiff eyebrow like something horrible was about to happen. He hated the way your father was uncomfortably mute, sitting only with a pursed lip and folded arms in complete disinterest, like he’d rather be anywhere else. He hated that Seokmin was continuing to beam his signature-watt smile even though the air was dense enough to crush everyone flat.

You picked up Mingyu’s plate, presumably because it was the closest to you, and started slopping some hot casserole onto it. Every movement was autopilot, thoughtless, as the steam from the breached casserole rolled up into the air and shrouded you.

“I was only trying to make it perfect,” you muttered.

“Make it what?” Your mother questioned, staring you down.

“Perfe—”

“Stop mumbling, my love. I can’t hear you.”

Mingyu’s messy plate was collapsed back onto its placemat with a very loud thud, and you looked to your mother with utmost annoyance.

“I was trying to make it per-fect.”

She quirked her head. “And you needed Wonwoo to do that?”

Just as he ruminated—the universe had a fearsome penchant for whirlpooling him into the centre of everything and anything horrible, like his name was written in the water. Though, Wonwoo couldn’t say he was expecting to survive the dinner party unscathed. He tried to remember the quick spiel of rules Seokmin had relayed to him—was it better to get involved or just shut the fuck up? Wasn’t Mingyu supposed to do something? Wasn’t Seokmin supposed to keep the conversation pushing?

“Mom, please, just—I was showing him around, okay? He’s the guest. He’s never been over before. Wonwoo has nothing to do with us being a few minutes late to dinner. So just leave him be.” You removed the tinfoil from another bowl. Grabbing a wooden spoon, you started slapping creamy mashed potatoes onto Mingyu’s plate. “Trying to make something out of nothing… why can’t we just eat for once?”

“Honey, we could be eating, but you’re choosing to sulk.”

“I’m not sulking! I’m trying to help!”

“No, no, no. Mingyu’s plate looks like an animal that got squashed by a car. If you can’t even properly fix your future husband a nice-looking plate of food without pooling all your anger into it, then there’s an issue, there.” She shook her head. “A very big issue.”

Wonwoo could see your eyes burning.

Mingyu had then sighed, removing the wooden spoon that was clenched up in your hand like a weapon and slipping it back into the mashed potato bowl. The boy tugged a few times at your wrist, keeping his tired voice as soft as possible while imploring you to sit down.

“It’s alright, everything’s fine,” he said, probably to soothe himself more than anything, “all the food goes straight into my mouth, anyway. Same goes for all of us. Sit down, Her, alright? Please?”

“No,” you snapped your wrist free, “I don’t want to sit.”

In a desperate hope to experience some sort of consolidation amongst the tension, Wonwoo angled a glance toward Seokmin. When his friend wouldn’t look back and merely opted to keep biting his blistering lip, Wonwoo quite literally felt a meteor sink into his stomach.

Slicking a hand along his shiny hair, Mingyu sighed even deeper. “Please just sit. You know what’ll happen. Please.”

Again stepping away from Mingyu’s attempted touch, you began to shout, and Wonwoo’s breath froze as your voice echoed around the kitchen in a hauntingly similar manner to the quarrel at his apartment.

“I already said no!”

From the head of the table, your father pushed out his chair. His voice was oddly gruff when he spoke, like he hadn’t said a word all day and his throat was hoarse by consequence.

“Don’t shout,” was all he warned.

Your mother shook her head. “She will raise her voice when she doesn’t get what she wants.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help but feel the cut from her disappointed eyes even though she wasn’t even looking at him.

“I’m raising my voice because you’re not listening! You haven’t listened to me all fucking day! Oh my god! It’s eating me alive!”

In an instant, Mingyu was to his feet, almost trying to court you into the corner by the open window with his hands that you battered away. Wonwoo gripped onto his knees. He couldn’t choke out a damn word and Seokmin seemed to have become stiller than stone.

“Calm down,” Mingyu urged, “take some breaths.”

“You still won’t listen!”

“I’ll listen later, I promise.”

“Mingyu, do you even hear yourself?!”

“Just—you’re blowing this out of proportion again.”

“Stop trying to control me!”

“Calm down and—hey!”

With a frustrated groan, you squirmed away from Mingyu and rushed back to the dinner table where your mother continued to stare at you with such conflict in her expression, as though it was mentally taxing her to compute how such a seemingly perfect, established daughter could simultaneously appear so unraveled and incomplete before her. For a second, Wonwoo thought you might take the mashed potatoes or casserole and just completely drench the wall in their remnants.

But you didn’t do anything. Instead, you looked across the organized table—the vibrant food, sparkling drinking glasses, and expensive, unpopped bottles of alcohol—at Wonwoo, who had admittedly felt pretty useless and paralyzed throughout the ordeal. You looked straight into his eyes and he could see that you were almost physically begging him for an out. And, if he could see himself as an outsider, it was probably the same damn look he was giving you.

Wonwoo hadn’t even noticed the silence in the room.

Your father coughed, retrieving his utensils, ready to sweep the argument and very obvious hostility under the rug—put a small little bandage on a gigantic wound that had been festering for years.

“Same dance every time. Come sit, Mingyu. Let’s just eat.”

That would be nice, if Wonwoo had any appetite.

That would be nice if he wasn’t pushing out his chair, getting up from the table, keeping his gaze level and connected with yours, watching you swallow hard, hold back your tears, anxiously flex your fingers in a momentary contemplation and then—unprompted—run. Just run.

Wonwoo fled into the corridor with you right behind him, your hands kneading against his lower back as he threw open the door to the quiet, dimly lit front porch where that damp and black September night was ready to breathe him in and whisk you two away. He heard the very confused shouting from the kitchen, but there wasn’t any time to waste.

Wonwoo flew down the wood steps and splashed through a shallow puddle reflecting the moonlight, running toward the long street drifted in thinly strewn mist. He continued to run, only stopping for a brief moment to turn around and observe you quickly fling off your heels before scooping them up while everyone crowded onto the porch, yelling.

In your bare feet and a smile so pearlescent, you sprinted straight into Wonwoo’s outstretched arms, giggling aloud while he gripped your body firm and spun you in a circle that saw your dress twirl like a ribbon and your legs brush through the alive air.

Mingyu began stalking down the driveway, visibly angry, his face twisted into a snarl that might see Wonwoo getting split in his nose.

“Fuck, fuck!” You cursed, squeezing your fingers into his. He was suddenly being tugged down the empty, dark street, as though there was some invisible curtain for you to magically disappear behind. “Let’s go!”

Wonwoo didn’t mind one bit. Indefinitely, he would let you tug him over a cliff if it meant you two could fall together. The street was long and wet but the air was so fresh. Every breath he took was pure.

He didn’t know where you were going.

But he didn’t need to.

“Be careful. I don’t want you to step on something sharp.”

“I think I already did.”

Wonwoo pulled tight on your warm hand, stopping you.

“Seriously? Let me look.”

You made a slight huffing noise while sitting down on a large boulder, not caring that the surface was sandy and damp, forming a dark imprint against your olive dress. Wonwoo squatted down, looking at the dirty underside to one bare foot, and then the other, realizing there weren’t any cuts. He then used the cuff to his suit jacket, brushing off the small pieces of grit stuck into the skin in case he missed anything.

In all honesty, Wonwoo had no idea where you two were. After running far down the fancy Hillcrest Street until your family house was completely obscured into mist and memory, you led Wonwoo off onto a separate footpath by the treeline. Your fingers were slotted into each other’s. This was the first time Wonwoo had let go of your hand since running away, and the chilled air felt like prickles on his palm.

Removing the phone from his pocket to shine a light, he wasn’t at all surprised to see the missed calls and texts that had collected minute by minute from Seokmin earlier. You didn’t even have your phone. The only thing you carried was the ivory heels that Wonwoo gifted you at the start of the evening, which were still clutched in your hand.

“No blood. No lacerations. Just dirt,” Wonwoo said. “If you did cut yourself, you might not even feel it with all that adrenaline.”

You smiled at him. “Your phone a graveyard of Seokmin texts?”

He smirked, flicking through them all. “Precisely, yeah.”

Leaning backward on the boulder, you at last let go of the heels and stretched your arms out behind you, staring up at the moonlight patterning between the forest trees, their branches more barren as the autumn leaves came loose in the breeze. They fell down one by one, rustling softly whenever they hit the ground. He heard you sigh.

“Everyone there can go fuck themselves.”

Putting his phone away, Wonwoo smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“That line’s a classic, coming from you.”

He attempted to sit beside you on the boulder, ignoring how uneven and rough it felt under his butt. Wherever you were along the footpath, it was perfectly hushed, almost felt hidden. The tree branches above him had framed the moon akin to a picture—except, he felt like he was the one painted, and that it was the moon who was watching him.

“I’m sorry.”

Wonwoo began to look at you rather than the night sky.

“Don’t apologize.”

You stared at him deeply, licking your lips and shaking your head. His eyes were now well adjusted to the scarce light. Just the silver through the trees was enough to read and inspect your pretty face.

“It went off the rails.”

He shrugged, staring back. “It seemed like it needed to.”

“I made you part of it.”

“I made myself part of it.”

“But, I mean—just—if you… if you never…”

Wonwoo raised his eyebrow. “If I never what? Met you?”

Puffing out a long breath, you looked down, picking at something on the boulder with a manicured nail. “… Yeah.”

“No,” Wonwoo was firm to correct, continuing to stare at you intensely even if you couldn’t face him in the turmoil of processing all the emotion and chaos, “you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

You lolled out your tongue, smiling and sheepish. “Blah.”

He laughed, “I mean it.”

Sighing again, you glanced back at Wonwoo, your eyes flickering along his every detail in the dewy night. Your hand reached out to his collar, making another brief, probably unnecessary adjustment to it before sliding the gentle fingers down his chest. Wonwoo’s mouth ran disgustingly dry in that moment, to the point that he was relieved when you removed your hand because you might have felt how fast his heart was beating and thought him to be quite pathetic.

Tightly swallowing, he brushed an itch off his nose and opened his mouth with a question, his gaze catching yours. Although, at the last second, he weened himself from speaking when the doubt found and froze him. A breeze tickled through his hair and Wonwoo shivered.

Your brow furrowed.

“What?” You urged him.

Wonwoo chuckled. “Fuck. Nothing.”

“Not nothing. Please. What is it?”

You were leaning closer into him, enthralling him with those earnest, gleaming eyes. He swore the nighttime wind was pushing your sweet, blossomy scent against him—was pushing you against him—because now your thigh was squished right beside his and your shoulders were warm together. Wonwoo adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat.

“Who are you?” He paused, but didn’t falter. “Actually?”

Your forehead wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

Wonwoo examined every aspect of your face that he had come to know so well over the months—the face he gradually couldn’t stop thinking about, to the point you would appear in his dreams. The face he was once completely disinterested in, because you were not someone that should have any reason to be in his life, just as he had no reason to be in yours. He felt his body move closer into your inviting warmth.

In fact, you two were so close that if he moved even an inch or few forward, then his lips might find themselves pressing to yours and his hand might settle and smooth up along your thigh to your cheek. Then, it would be impossible to leave the footpath without digging into you right then and there, kissing and tasting from you everywhere.

“What’s your name?”

It sounded like an obvious, warranted question that just about anyone would ask given the opportunity. But Wonwoo had never found himself wondering it. The things he wondered about you were much different and more character-driven, yet Wonwoo had come to realize that your name was just as important and precious and intact with your identity as everything else. He almost felt like it was the very last piece of you that he hadn’t shifted into place—his last chapter in a very long, complicated, topsy-turvy, seemingly-never-ending book.

Wonwoo thought you might laugh at him.

Tell him, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” in that very smug tone of voice he’d hear from time to time while smiling hot with your secret.

Instead, however, you just stayed silent.

His hand touched with fragile softness at the edge of your face, a thumb then stroking along the space before your ear as you swallowed.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he whispered, hearing the leaves rustle above him, “it’s fine either—”

“No, one second.”

Wonwoo bit his tongue, opting to watch you lean back while digging fingers into the cleavage of your dress. From somewhere—he could only surmise—you had pulled out a thin tube with a cherry lid.

“Was that the lip stuff you put on?” He snorted.

“Lip liner. With a sticky patch on it right here. Figured I should keep it close. You know, in case a crumb managed to remove a single spec of it. Can't have my mother passing out from shame.”

“Clever thinking.”

“Give me your hand.”

Stretching out his fingers, he let his hand sit in your lap while you pulled the lid off with your teeth, then gripping his wrist and halfway leaning down to push the tip of the lip applicator against his palm. The sensation was cool and smooth. He felt each letter you traced, though he refused to let himself guess until you were done.

Under the moonlight, Wonwoo raised the calligraphed hand to his face, pushing up his glasses as he realized—at last—the complete gist of who you were. And with your name came the understanding of what you were, in fact, doing in his very meaningless life.

Wonwoo kept staring fondly at his hand. But, as he was staring, you suddenly reached forth and smeared your thumb across the neat letters until they were lost. A memory made, and then covered.

Only between you.

When Wonwoo looked to you again, he saw everything about you so clearly that it was almost shining. Every decision you made, every word you said, the way you walked and dressed and flourished so openly before crashing so hard—Wonwoo could snap all those pieces into place.

“Can I ask you something?” You said.

He blinked at you absentmindedly, too caught up in his daze.

“Wonwoo?”

“Sorry—yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

Pressing your knees together, the wind fluttered the fabric of your silky olive dress, and he could tell you were getting cold.

“When you were at my apartment, apologizing to me about our fight, that was the first and only time I ever heard you mention your ex-girlfriend.” Clicking your nervous feet, you looked over his shadowy face and the moonlight dancing in his glasses, “was she your first love?”

Crushing his hands tight into each other, Wonwoo bit his lip. “Yeah.”

Keeping your eyeline steady, you nodded. “Was she… like… what did you love about her?”

He almost couldn’t breathe. “Everything.”

You frowned. “Even the bad stuff?”

“Yeah…” he mumbled, “even the bad stuff.”

It was very quiet for a moment, with you simply sitting in reflection and staring into the dark silhouettes of the trees. He was sure you already knew the answer to your initial question, although he understood that hearing him say it was different than infinitely assuming about a past that wasn’t yours. Wonwoo had been in love before, and then heartbroken down into little fragments of himself that he spent months soullessly dusting around. And somehow, he was in love again—a new love that felt so much different but still fit him so right.

“Hm…” you hummed.

Wonwoo placed his hand on your bare back, beginning to sweep his fingers up and down, sensing your skin quiver in response.

“It’s late,” he whispered, nudging his knee into yours and warming your ear with his breath, “I know you don’t want to go home, and that’s alright. I get it. But we should figure something out before my phone battery dies, yeah?” He proceeded to grab your hand and squeeze it. “I don’t wanna leave a pretty girl like you out in the cold and wet.”

When you looked at him, you were pouting, exhaustion shining on your face like the dew in the moonlit leaves. “I don’t want to go anywhere without you.” Your fingers gripped his impossibly tighter.

“Do you want to stay the night at my place?”

You snuggled your head into the crook between his jaw and shoulder, wrapping your arms around his elbow to hold him close. “Yes.”

“Well, I’ve got one call,” Wonwoo sighed, fishing out his phone and squinting against its lurid light, “better hope he fucking answers.”

Vernon was confused to say the least, beckoned down a random street at near midnight when he could be in bed with the girl he was happily feeling up just half an hour ago, until a certain phone call ruined it. Wonwoo could tell from the manner in which his friend’s heavily furrowed brow remained creased when he opened the vanilla Camry’s back door, allowing you to slide in first with your heels in hand while Wonwoo followed. Tugging the door shut, Wonwoo could then only smile at poor, disgruntled, face-studded Vernon who was continuing to inquisitively stare him down through the rear-view mirror as though there was something smeared across his cheek or stuck in his hair.

Perhaps it was the patches of dampness and dirt on Wonwoo’s suit and your once very elegant dress, but it didn’t matter anymore.

“So… uh… dinner went well, then?” Vernon asked in a big huff after no one offered to break the silence, slightly turning his head to analyze the backseat using his busted, buzzing ceiling light.

Wonwoo and you were pressed together. Both unreceptive.

“Woah. Stop talking over each other, guys,” he joked dryly.

“Couldn’t have gone better,” Wonwoo decided to say.

“… M’kay…” Vernon replied, still perplexed but probably sensing it was best to save all the questions for later. “Music?”

Wonwoo nodded and turned off the ceiling light. “Sure.”

That was the beginning and end of the conversation.

Vernon pulled out from Hillcrest, keeping his elbow against the half-opened window during the drive, meanwhile you were allowing your heavy eyes to at last flutter shut. Leaning your head against Wonwoo’s broad shoulder, he noticed that your fingers were playing with his—you had gently grabbed his thumb and started rubbing his pigmented scar in absent circles, massaging into all the weathered years spent scratching himself until his anxiety would peddle away. The lip liner was still smudged against his palm in a cherry-tinted blur that he never wanted to wash off.

Smiling, Wonwoo let his cheek sit atop your hair, sensing the delightful breeze from Vernon's window flow into the backseat.

He was glad he went to the dinner party.

“Here are the keys. This copper one here is for the shop. This blue one is my apartment key. Go inside and get warmed up. I’ll join you in a few, alright? Promise… be careful on the steps,” Wonwoo instructed after opening the car door, proceeding to wrap his keychain in your fingers once you had emerged into the wind and sodden air.

With the white heels strung through your arm, you nodded at him sleepily and walked up the three little stairs to the pottery shop.

After you disappeared inside, Wonwoo turned around and opened the passenger seat door, climbing back into his friend’s Camry kept stalled but running at the curb. At first, there was silence between them. They both gazed down through the illumination of the headlights washing out the empty street. Vernon then slid his hand off the steering wheel, letting it cascade through his messy black hair instead.

“Do I even wanna know what fuckin’ happened?” His friend asked, his head clunking back against the upholstered seat.

Wonwoo blinked down at his lap. He started to smile, feeling it creep along his mouth even though he knew how suspect it looked.

Then, Wonwoo chuckled.

“We ran out.”

He finally looked to Vernon, who was staring back with highly quirked eyebrows and a dropped jaw. After exchanging an incredulous glance with each other, the two boys were laughing and ripping apart the silence. Vernon crossed his arms, sunk further down in his seat.

“Never would I picture you doin’ that…” he said through a lazy grin, “runnin’ out with another dude’s girl is insane, can’t lie.”

Wonwoo rubbed a palm along his cheek, still fucking smiling. “Think he’s gonna beat my ass?”

Vernon stared at him, deadpanned in his expression. “Is that even a question, Glasses? I’d beat your ass. I don’t even have a girl.”

“I don’t care.”

“If he beats your ass?”

“Yeah.”

Suddenly, a hand was pushing against Wonwoo’s shoulder. Vernon was smirking at him hard, teething over his bottom lip.

“Damn. She’s got you by the scruff, huh?”

Wonwoo shrugged, beginning to shake his head. “You should see the way he treats her… there’s some weird ties between him and her family. I think he’s playing the long game… getting what we can while he can and then parading her around as a trophy or something. But she's miserable with him.” Running a thumb along his knuckles, Wonwoo grinned. “He can beat my ass if he wants to.”

Vernon clicked his tongue. “Well, just to float the idea, I’m s—”

“No,” quickly laughing away his friend’s questionable response, Wonwoo merely rubbed under his glasses and refused. “I’m not trying to get locked away for first degree murder. And neither are you.”

“I’m just tryin’ to say I’ve got you is all,” Vernon said with his usual nonchalance, as laid back as an ironing board, “but—you’re right. Save that for when I’m an actual drug lord. He’s not gettin’ anything from me. Not even a Flintstone gummy.”

“Well, I appreciate the favour. Sorry to interrupt.”

“Nah, I could tell it was somethin’ important,” Vernon excused, giving Wonwoo a comfortable smile, “s’not like I can’t ever get brain again. Your situation seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime thing.”

Looking back at the pottery shop and the single light within keeping everything aglow, Wonwoo wondered if you made it into his apartment okay. He was worried about leaving you on your own for too long, especially when taking into consideration the extremities of the dinner party (that hadn’t really been a dinner or a party when he thought about it). Rolling out his shoulders, he turned to Vernon again.

“She needs to eat something. I’ll order food. You want any?”

Vernon scrunched his face. “What—you’re askin’ me to come inside with you two? I’m not on real good terms with her, y’know that, right? Just ‘cause she’s fuckin’ with you doesn’t mean that for me."

“It won’t be like that.”

“How do y’know? You guys gossip about me?”

Wonwoo smiled, pushing up his glasses. “I just know.”

Vernon paused to think for a moment, his hand returned back to the steering wheel while sharp teeth pulled at the skin along his bottom lip. With just the edge to his face streaked in yellow light from the outside street lamp, it was difficult to interpret his mindset, although Wonwoo knew it was a done deal when Vernon removed the glittering keys from the ignition and the rumbling car at last went silent along the empty midnight street.

Besides, Wonwoo would pay for it all, anyway.

Vernon quietly trailed behind Wonwoo into the apartment, the front door left unlocked and the living area bathed by the warm-coloured light fixture but absent of your presence. His friend placed the car keys onto the coffee table with an uncharacteristic softness, and Wonwoo figured that Vernon was probably still feeling uncertain about spending time with you—which made sense—the last time Vernon had spoken to you (spoken probably wasn’t an accurate word) was the confrontation at the gas station where he feared you might light his hair on fire.

Though, when Wonwoo poked open his ajar bedroom door, he found you standing near his desk, peering across the walled corkboard and all its pinned photos from his life back in South Korea.

He flicked on the light, pulling out the deep blue darkness from the air, and smiled at you.

“Everything alright?”

With your arms folded, you seemed smaller than usual. “Yeah—sorry that I came in here without permission.”

He was quick to shake his head. “No big deal—you don’t need permission.”

You were silent for a few seconds, grinning to yourself, and then gestured to one of the glossy developed photos stuck to the cork.

“That’s Bohyuk?”

Wonwoo nodded, “yeah.”

He realized you hadn’t spent much time in his room over the months that you’d known each other. For the most part, Wonwoo would always be at your apartment, or some unique location necessary to your story-telling when he was still helping with the book. At one point it would have perturbed him to see you gazing along the finer details of his room so curiously. Now, however, he welcomed it.

Stuffing hands into his pockets, Wonwoo let you observe the corkboard, watching you with a very amorous, kind smile that he hadn’t even processed until his cheeks started flaring with a heated ache.

“Wonwoo?”

“Yeah?”

“… I’m hungry.”

Unable to flatten out his smile, Wonwoo walked over to you and smoothed his hand along the side of your face, then caressing his thumb underneath your twinkling eye and against your cheekbone.

“I know,” he murmured, “I’ll order food.”

“Chinese?”

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll make it happen.”

Delighted to see your expression brighten, Wonwoo at last removed his hand from your skin. He knew he shouldn’t touch you or look so fucking pathetically in-love into your eyes, but he didn’t care.

“Do you think I can shower? I want to take all this makeup off.”

“Yeah, of course. Go for—”

Suddenly, from the living room, there was a loud bang that distinctly sounded like Vernon plowing straight into something heavy.

“What was that?” You asked, covering your mouth.

Wonwoo chuckled, “Vernon. Hey—you alright?!”

“All good!!” His friend shouted back. “Just—how ‘bout don’t keep your fuckin’ weights right beside the couch, yeah? Almost broke my fuckin’ foot!”

“Oops.” Wonwoo shrugged very unapologetically, staring into your amused eyes and giggling together. “He’s gonna eat with us… he did a big favour coming down to get us and everything, you know?”

“That’s okay,” you answered, “I just want to shower.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll give you the room. Wear whatever you want. I’ll just take the keys so I can lock up downstairs.” He was nearly on his way out, but stopped abruptly. “Should we… uh… should I at least text Seokmin and tell him you’re safe? I mean, just in case—”

“Sure,” the response was quick and muttered with little care, “I’m sure they can surmise where I am, but you can do that, too.”

“Yeah, okay… well, I’ll leave you be. Food will probably be here by the time you’re out and dried off. I’ll make sure it doesn’t get cold.”

Finally, Wonwoo clicked his bedroom door shut. Keys in hand, he re-entered the living room to find Vernon plumped down on the couch with a pillow in his lap, all spread out like he owned the damn place, texting away on his phone. Wonwoo laughed as he walked by.

“Writing out your apology letter?”

“Somethin’ like that…” his friend mumbled, clearly more focused on his pixeled screen, “I might not be gettin’ that head after all.”

“Life’s all about sacrifices,” Wonwoo sighed while opening the front door, pausing briefly to mention, “we’re getting Chinese food by the way. She didn’t care that you’re staying. Anything you want?”

Vernon smiled while keeping his eyes trained to the phone. “No way. That’s a relief… n’yeah—I like the chicken balls with the sweet and sour sauce. Pork-fried rice is good, too. I’m not picky.”

“Noted.”

“So—wait—I have to ask, and you can tell me to fuck off if you want, but how did you become a drug dealer? Like, at what point did you even realize that was your… I don’t know… calling?”

Sitting cross-legged on the carpet with a carton of noodles in hand and a napkin splayed upon your bare lap, pointed chopsticks were being angled at Vernon from across the coffee table. He took a sip from his can of bright red soda, placing it back onto the coaster with a thud.

“Uh, fuck,” Vernon coughed, smiling subtly while beginning to pick through his own personal container of pork-fried rice, “well, I can answer it, I guess… do I get to ask a question in return?”

You grabbed the napkin, wiping off the sauce from your mouth.

“I’ll allow it.”

“Fair enough,” his friend answered.

Wonwoo had heard the story only once before during a smoke session on the apartment rooftop, though he doubted Vernon would trudge through all the details. Despite seeming like an open book who couldn't care less, there really were some sweet spots he didn’t like having prodded. Nonetheless, Wonwoo thought it was a good, earnest opening between the two of you, so he opted to stay silent while pulling the meat off his ribs with his teeth.

“Uh, I was a stubborn kid, let’s say that. Tried my hand at school but I could never get the hang of it. Could never keep a job long. My parents caught me usin’ once, weed and ecstasy, and they said if it happened again, I’m out.” Vernon fed himself another forkful of rice, taking a moment to swallow while you listened intently. “I thought I could keep it straight, but no luck. Yeah. They had no tolerance for it. I was out the next day. My mom was the most pissed, but she tries to reach out every now and then. I dunno... I feel done with ‘em, if I'm bein' honest. I’ve got somethin’ that works so I just run with it. The money speaks for itself so I can’t complain.”

As Wonwoo expected, it was the heavily watered-down version of everything that happened between Vernon and his family, however, it was enough to paint the picture. Taking a moment to slurp up some spicy noodles, you soon set the carton down and patted along your gradually swelling lips. The crumpled napkin was placed on the table.

“Yeah, I bet the money speaks for itself. You’ve got a bunch of stupidly rich university students on your roster. They go through just about everything they can get their hands on. It’s fucking insane.”

Vernon propped his elbows onto his knees, gathering more rice onto the plastic white fork while smirking at you knowingly.

“You’ve got that coke sniff, y’know?”

Wonwoo widened his eyes at Vernon, suspecting a wildfire.

But you merely shrugged, quite honest in your response.

“I know. I did it once with Mingyu, some friends, and I thought never again…” with a sigh, you massaged at your shoulder, staring off into a random spot that Wonwoo couldn’t pinpoint. “Mingyu was getting it for me at almost every party we went to. I don’t know. I thought, since he paid for it, since it’s right here, I might as well do it.”

Slipping the fork out from his mouth, Vernon grinned. “Coked-up sex is crazy. Especially when you've got the right cut. It hits.”

“Vernon,” Wonwoo immediately chirped at him while setting down his emptied container of food, his voice sounding particularly stern, like he was scolding a child for making an ignorant comment.

“What?” His friend laughed, raking a tattooed hand through his loose and shiny black hair. “It is. Feels like you’re on another planet.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just think a little before you speak, please.”

Again, Wonwoo was surprised to see your nonchalance.

“It’s okay. I know what you’re saying. I think… like… Mingyu only wanted me to have it for that reason—I’m making it sound like some non-consensual, pressured shit—it’s not,” you muttered, waving around your hand in dismissal, “I just… the thing is I don’t like how I feel afterward. But it was never enough for me to say that I didn’t want it. I liked that it would take me out of my head for a bit. My mind would stop running on overdrive.” Then, you pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “The last time I did anything like that was the party at Seungcheol’s, though.”

Whenever the party was mentioned, Wonwoo would always bite down on his lip and tightly curl his fingers. He had discussed it with you in the past, beyond the summer evening spent at your apartment with a red velvet cupcake in between you and a painful, aching hug he could still feel all the warmth and regret to.

There were long, long phone conversations. And somewhere, stuffed in his mind, was the memory of you and Mingyu behind the door as he listened to every little sound—skin hitting skin, the desperation in your voice, wood smacking the wall.

“Yeah, is what it is,” Vernon replied. He pulled a toothpick out from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. “Do I get my question now?”

“Uh… sure.”

Wonwoo had almost missed you staring at him. There was a concernedness to it, but when he smiled back you seemed to breathe.

“Still think I’m a gigantic fuckin’ tool?”

Immediately, you started laughing. Wonwoo followed suit, on the brink of embarrassingly blowing out the soda he just sipped from in a big spray. He was actually quite relived that Vernon had picked a more light-hearted question rather than something intimate. His friend swirled the toothpick around with his tongue, continuing to smirk in confidence.

“Giggle away. I’m curious, is all.”

Kissing your teeth, you held Vernon’s coppery, honey eyes. “You are a tool, one-hundred percent… but, I think you know that about yourself. And, um, you’re a good friend to Wonwoo. So… I guess my opinions about you have shifted. Appearances are deceiving.”

Pleased with your candour, Vernon grabbed his drink, leaned against the recliner behind him, and nodded his head approvingly.

“That tickles my fancy well enough.”

"Don't you think you'll want to settle down eventually?" You asked.

Vernon scrunched his eyebrow. "What?"

"Like, what if you find a girl. A really nice girl who could change your perspective. Do you think you'd want to settle down?"

With a quick laugh, Vernon shook his head. "Nice girls don't use half their last pay check to buy drugs. It's business at the end of the day."

Seeming skeptical, your eyes narrowed. "Right..."

"Vernon has his mind set on very specific things," Wonwoo smiled.

Straightening out the large shirt that draped around your frame—another garment belonging to Wonwoo that you had pulled from his dresser—you glanced between each boy and smiled.

“So... now I'm curious. How did this unlikely pairing meet?”

As Vernon was busy with navigating his toothpick, Wonwoo decided to tell the story, prompting him to sit up straight and alleviate his spine from being crooked against the hard bottom of the couch.

“I was convinced into attending a little New Year’s Eve party thing by these guys I don’t talk to anymore. Spent about half an hour wandering the halls, doing aimless laps, hating every second of it, debating if I should just take off. Not like anyone would notice. Then I bump into this guy—” Wonwoo nodded at Vernon, “—who was all tattooed and pierced up with this girl all over him. She was on the kitchen counter, one hand gripping his bicep while she was laying hickies to his fucking neck from behind.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Who was that?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Fuck if I know. Vernon?”

“Uh—I don’t know if I remember, honestly. She used to buy poppers off me like every damn week so I called her Poppy. That’s not her real name, though. She’s long gone. Moved cities months ago.”

“Yeah, well, he told me I looked like a lost ghost. Asked if I wanted a swisher. I agreed for some reason, and we went out back.”

Brushing a hand down your neck, you giggled. “A lost ghost?”

Vernon nodded, folding his arms.

“Yeah. Glasses always used to have that look to him. Dead man walkin’ kinda thing. Just wanderin’ around with no purpose.”

Wonwoo hoarsely chuckled at his friend, “jeez—thanks.”

“You can’t deny it.”

“I know. But to be fair, I was fucking going through something.”

“Mmhm, that’s why I took you under my wing,” Vernon sang, his eyes swimming with their usual gold-tinted mischief, “I could just tell you needed some guidance. Gave him the swisher of eternal friendship.”

“Is that what you call it?” Wonwoo huffed sarcastically.

“I call it many different things.”

You smiled sweetly at Wonwoo while your fingers played with the long cuff on the borrowed t-shirt. “Whatever it was, I guess it turned into something pretty good... and, Vernon, I am sorry for how I acted at the gas station. There was just a lot going through my mind.”

True to his casual, untroubled nature, Vernon swung his head dismissively while letting an arm collapse across his knee, the toothpick now in his hand and being spun between his ringed fingers. “No, you’re good. Don't worry 'bout it. It was just ‘cause you care n' shit. I get that.” Quirking his expression in an endearing manner, he proceeded to flash you a solid grin. “You didn’t singe my hair off so, I’ve got no grudge.”

You laughed, “I wouldn’t have actually done anything to you.”

“Eh, it’s hard to tell, isn’t it?” Vernon answered in a smirk.

Reaching for your drink, you sipped from it and then snuggled the can between your criss-crossed legs. Wonwoo examined that very intriguing smile opening its way across your mouth like a spring blossom, wanting to know the exact moment that sparked it.

A quiet pause passed, and then you were sighing with bliss behind it—that relaxed kind of sigh when everything seemed to click.

“It’s nice hanging out with you guys…” you murmured, staring across the coffee table scattered with ripped-open sauce packets, empty cardboard containers, wood chopsticks, and unfurling napkins. “It just feels lighter… I don’t know… making friends has always been so tough for me. The right friends, I mean. Friends that actually feel like friends.”

Wonwoo pinched his lip in his teeth.

“It can take a while before you hit the right people.”

Vernon shrugged, concealing a burp that had him rubbing down his broad chest. “If we’re all friends, then we’ve gotta be the weirdest fuckin’ collaboration of people I’ve ever seen.”

You snickered into your hands while Wonwoo lounged an elbow onto the couch to help prop up his head, rolling his eyes toward Vernon.

Though, Wonwoo could easily understand what Vernon was getting at. You, a popular and high-fashion campus honorary who at first glance seemed to have very little patience for anyone but yourself, followed by the guttural and unbothered drug dealer without a care in the world, beside an anxiety-ridden hermit just trying to exist and somehow not turn to a puddle in the process. Vernon was right—it was a strange grouping of people suckled together despite their completely different paths and choices. Somewhere, somehow, though, there was a connection.

Like a fated string weaving everything into a knot.

Since Wonwoo had already ordered the Chinese food fairly late, it was quite difficult to find an ice cream place in the area that was open past midnight. Vernon and his sudden craving for cookie dough had offered the idea, and you easily caved, which led Wonwoo on a spiral of searching through his phone. Unfortunately, the only ice cream they could order was vanilla soft-serve cones from a twenty-four-hour fast-food chain which arrived to his apartment dripping. But no one really cared, and Wonwoo threw on the television for some background noise.

The conversations lasted until about two in the morning.

Vernon had not so gracefully taken up the entire couch, his face shoved into the embroidered pillow, an arm left dangling limp over the edge, and a smear of soft-serve dried to his cheek. You and Wonwoo were sitting side by side on the floor, a blanket spread around your shoulders with your knee spilled onto his lap, attempting to finish up the random movie that he couldn’t even remember playing. When the credits began rolling, it took him a moment to process that the drama flick was even over. Your head was tucked against his shoulder, eyes shut but still twitching against the dull, meek light flooding from the screen.

He placed his hand on your bare thigh, fingers stretching eager over the warm and soft skin to carefully grip it and give you a squeeze.

Then, with his lips feathering at your forehead, he mumbled your name to get you awake. Wonwoo did feel somewhat guilty about stirring you, but he’d rather you have a comfortable sleep on his bed than the living room floor. He continued to rub your thigh nice and slow, watching your eyelids flicker open and squint at him through the dark room. There was a shallow grin that you gave him, full of contentment.

“You’re all fuzzy…” you yawned, proceeding to rub at your eye.

“It’s late,” he answered quietly, almost whispering, “I think I should get you to bed. You’ll be much comfier in my room.”

“Is Vernon asleep?”

“Mmhm.”

Turning back to glance at the couch, you yawned again.

“… Oh… so, we’re going to your room?”

“Yeah… c’mon, I’ll help you up.”

Wonwoo didn’t turn on the light in his bedroom since there was already a small separation in the curtains, allowing just the right amount of moonlight through to outline everything around him in bluish-silver.

You sat down on his bed, letting your fingers travel along the sheets to feel all the slight rumples and divots, only to look up at Wonwoo with a tired smile and sincere, blinking, gorgeous eyes that felt akin to a gut punch. As much as he wanted it—needed it—Wonwoo knew that he couldn’t sleep next to you. He couldn’t trust himself. He couldn’t fathom having you so fucking close in the intimate, cocooning darkness and not being able to squeeze his cold hands along every perfect part of you.

But you weren’t making it easy.

In fact, you were making it excruciatingly hard.

“Are you not going to lie down with me?”

Wonwoo felt the twig snap in his chest. You wouldn’t stop staring up at him through those wispy eyelashes and nibbling on your lip.

“I’ve got the recliner in the living room…” he could hardly choke it out. There was so much heat in his body that he could melt.

“Why sleep there? The bed is big enough.”

His deep voice twisted into a laugh he couldn’t avoid. “Yeah, the bed’s not the issue… uh, it’s fine, though. The recliner’s nice.”

He took a step back, but then you had grabbed his wrist.

“Wonwoo,” you said his name in a tender, breathy, desperate sort of way that sent his heart shattering to his feet, your eyes glistening through the sparse light like two comets, “I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Fuck—it was all he could think—fuck, fuck, fuck.

With your fingers still wrapped to his wrist, Wonwoo pushed his hand gently against the side of your face. He was closer to you now, applying a soft pressure to angle your head up at him. You were breathing thick per every second that passed, holding his eye contact without one fracture, smiling arch. Wonwoo wanted to drink you.

Leaning into his palm, you swallowed and squeaked, “please?”

His thumb was on your chin. Right under your bottom lip.

“Fuck, you can't look at me like that…” Wonwoo rasped in a low, hushed voice that was struggling not to crack.

Truly, he meant it.

Your hand slid further along his wrist, almost tickling him.

“Ple—”

Immediately, Wonwoo pressed his thumb past your bottom lip and onto the ridge of your lower teeth, stifling that dangerous little word before it could hit his ear the wrong way and render him spineless.

“No more, okay?” He murmured, slowly sliding the digit from your warm, damp mouth, feigning obliviousness to your thighs clamping together and the manner in which your fingernails dug at his skin.

There was another moment of intense, humid silence while he wiped the wetness against the edge of your jaw.

“Seriously,” Wonwoo firmed up his voice, “no more.”

When you at last seemed compliant, nodding, Wonwoo let his hand drift from your heated-up face. You stayed in place, quiet as ever, on the edge of his bed, watching him disappear through the doorway.

As he collapsed onto the recliner and pulled the blanket once pooled on the floor over his body, Wonwoo didn’t even bother shutting his eyes or removing his glasses. Instead, he stared up at the popcorn ceiling, letting his heart thump, thump, thump and his mind wander until he naturally couldn’t fight the imminent feeling of sleep.

It certainly didn’t help that you had wandered into his dreams—dreams that he should probably keep to himself, warped fully by desire and longing.

—END OF PART FIVE.

[lackablazeical]

I'm hella loving your version of Mikey, and I hc him having a soft side (kinda; in his own way), so whats his reaction to physical touch?

I love this version too, I'm ngl! Asshole Mikey is my fave!

And anon, your headcanon is pretty spot on! I'd say it has the softest side of all of its siblings, even if that's basically just him being the tallest dwarf. Hey, Mike still has to be the heart!!! They must!!!

Depends on who is touching him! If it's his brothers, he's fine! He enjoys it! He doesn't melt but he likes the snuggles. Typically it's Leo just holding onto him, or Mikey sitting on raphs shell/in his arms, but Mike still enjoys it. He also likes people laying on top of him, it likes its soul being crushed back into its body.

Anyone else touching him will probably get their jaw broken. He needs a warning first, at least lol. He doesn't like people he doesn't know/like touching him, and his first inclination is always violence. He very rarely gives permission for anyone to touch him either, except for Kenichi.

Mikey is also fine with touch if he's the one initiating it, tho no one should assume bc he's touching them, they can touch him, if you get me lol.

This is a doodle I did cus happy flu season that kinda showcases this! (Not Tcest, tcest/proship/neutrals DNI, my content IS NOT for you greasy slugs)

[halorocks1214]

okay so i just steamrolled thru detective pikachu returns over the past 2 days because i was sick and had nothing else better to do and right after finishing it i went into the tags and WOWIE the negative reception is very large!! i do understand and even agree with some of it but i just felt the need to get my own thoughts down (again. sick with nothing better to do) so take a peek under readmore for very typical elongated halo ramblings about his fave video game series

for the record i never played the first game (only watched a few clips of it on youtube even) but i did go see the movie in theaters. just figured i'd mention this ahead of time so my favoritism is known and to prevent myself from coming off as a perfectly unbiased reviewer

BEWARE THE SPOILERS BTW

(post-editing note: it be long under here, you have been warned)

to start off YEAG this game is not worth 50 bucks! the story's pacing is all over the place and is very basic, the graphics are not particularly well refined, the characters' expressions do not fluctuate as much as they should (professor gordon in particular ;-; i felt so bad for him), and the voice acting outside of merloch and detective pikachu himself are kinda phoned in! it felt like an early 2000s 4kids dub for real. even the gameplay aspects themselves were rather meh in presentation; the button hitboxes were annoying to deal with and as cool as i thought the "main" mechanics were they were incredibly clunky and the tension they tried to build up in the "solving the case" climaxes was just Not It. there was absolutely no reason for the loading/pauses to take that long

(the pokemon gimmicks were okay tho. i would die for growlithe)

however, this isn't a problem specific to this game. while i enjoyed scarlet it was definitely not 60 bucks material (and when i went back to it for the teal mask i even went "good lord, did it always run this badly?"). i gotta give credit to detective pikachu, at least this game ran properly for the most part and never crashed on me lmao

while that doesn't negate the criticisms i previously mentioned i simply wanted to say that this is going to be a problem for as long as pokemon keeps making money. this isn't me finger-wagging at anyone in particular (i certainly have no room to talk, i did say i liked scarlet), i just wanted to say: yeah, pokemon has been A Mess

"but halo!" you cry. "you talked like the negative reception was overblown! what gives the giant negative paragraph??"

because much like scarlet, i still really enjoyed this game sdfjnsdk. how can i say that with confidence, though, when i largely agree that there were many, many issues to be had with its performance?

the word of the day: expectations

and perhaps this is where my bias comes into it. whenever i play a spinoff game (like snap or pokepark for instance), i don't really go into it for mindblowing gameplay and stories, i do it for the same reason this series has kept me enraptured for over a decade of my life:

the pokemon themselves!!

there are SO MANY little things that the regular games don't go into, and while i have my own headcanons and OCs i can play off of, it is so much fun to see actual canon material acknowledge certain things you've only ever theorized about!!

the whimsicott were so fun to watch float around, the article asking where a furret's tail began and ended made me laugh out loud, the fact that they went hard into the "slowpoke tails are eaten as food" thing, and the "let's not get into that right now" jokes about venonat hunting other pokemon and dusknoir eating souls LIKE. i LOVE when pokemon goes into its more "serious" aspects. i know main series games do it too occasionally but outside of offhanded mentions or pokedex entries, do they go this hard into them? if they do and i'm just stupid pls tell me about it i'll eat that shit up

being reminded of less-talked-about pokemon is always a plus and how can you not pop off when you see one of your faves included in the story? (INTELEON AND WOOPER I'LL KICK THEIR ASSES 4 U) it's simply fun immersing yourself into the world of pokemon and getting a glimpse of what it would be like to have pokemon walking down the street and how that affects everyday life! maybe the story is basic, but it served its purpose and i had fun going along with it!

perhaps it's just my mental illness talking, but walking around and seeing all the pokemon and THEN doing the quiz girl's quizzes was actually kinda nice! even if the puzzles weren't that hard, i can't lie and say i didn't pump my fist when i guessed where the mystery was going like with cramorant swallowing the jewel or how the passimian statues needed to hold different berries. overall, i just enjoyed being reminded of how much i know and what i love about this series

also, the ways they incorporated the movie were pretty baller. i liked how they didn't just do a repeat of the mewtwo plot from the movie and let me tell you, even tho i called it early on, i liked that my suspicions about the aurora drop being deoxys were confirmed!! (i suppose it's not that hard to guess bcs what other pokemon comes from space, but i just recently finished playing omega ruby again and i normally don't think about deoxys a lot so LET ME HAVE THIS)

plus "i heard they made a movie about the R case" MADE ME SCREAM. i thought they were just going to ignore the movie and do their own thing but then they DID THAT. incredible. you can call my expectations low (which is valid) but holy fuck

so the TLDR for those who want this: if you want a sweet but cliche game exploring the world of pokemon with a lot of funny moments + worldbuilding, then this game is perfect for you. if you want a game with a groundbreaking story with graphics to boot, then yeah, you're not gonna find it here. i've even seen people say their own nostalgia of the original spinoff wasn't enough to get them to enjoy this game, so take my words with a grain of salt

i would say just watch compilations of the game on youtube, but not every youtuber is gonna go fully exploring the game for all of its little details, so if you care about that kind of stuff, buying the game is your best bet. also if you don't care about that kind of stuff then you should just ignore the game altogether etc etc anYwAY

as for a TLDR for the TLDR: new pokemon snap is goated and i would say a more enjoyable experience than this game esp if you didn't like it so PLEASE buy it the game's only 30 bucks and you can throw treats at pokemon PLEASE it has so many sidequests and interactions you can partake in PLEASE i prommy i won't bite PLEASE stick your fingers in my enclosure PLEASE PLEASE PLE

[1-up-chump]

An mk ask thingy i did! Warning, its very long tho so its under the cut. Here's the blank https://www.tumblr.com/arttrampbelle/714499370612113408/mk-various-asks

Enjoy!

SFW:

• What is in your opinion the best stage?

Have to say the living forest, not just bc i love nature, but it's always left a big impression on me. The menacing trees with a life of their own, that random dead guy returning to the foliage. The whole atmosphere is just so unique to mortal kombat in terms of a fighting game. In shaolin monks its my favorite level just how memorable the scenery is, from the lumbering zombies to the trees themselves to the clay status to the snakes all around.

My second favorite might have to be the shirai-ryu fire gardens. Its just so beautiful and a perfect place to have a good fight. Reminds me truly of those old martial arts movies

• Who is your main?

Raiden, simply because i always found his flying electric move so funny bc he just flings himself and screams.

Although kung lao and scorpion are close second to who i prefer to play as, even though sub-zero is my second favorite character of all time.

• What powers/fighting type would you have if you were in mk?

Probably fire moves like liu kang, but with the legs. Something like a cool cartwheel of flames attack or breakdancing move as a special.

Although for something more sinister... bones and shadow would be a cool ability, like a cross between shinnok and noob-saibot's attacks

• Who is your fave kharacter(s)?

Raiden, baby me thought "haha funny screaming triangle man" as good enough reason to like him. Upon growing my first and only brain cell however, i appreciate his role in the lore as a mentor and protector. But also feel his character could have so much more, how i see him is a combination of many iterations of him in media. And it saddens me that, canon and fans alike, only put him in a one dimensional box thats, no offense, a generic lawful good paladin type who has all the humor and personality as wet cardboard.

Second favorite is sub-zero. Short answer: heehoo blue is my favorite color :)

Long answer: sub-zero, specifically kuai liang, is an interesting character who goes through many trials. Having to deal with the sins of not only his brother, but his clans' grandmaster as well. Having to fight a vengeful specter to having to fight those he once called brothers in arms in steel prisons that contain their souls in code.

• If you had to pick a representative realm,who's side would you be on? Or would you be on your own side,acting alone? Aka neutral.

Earthrealm, because i fricken live here!!

• If your found yourself on shang tsung's island,washed up on the beach. What is your first reaction,and what would you do first?

Panik, calm, remember as much survival tips as possible and encounter shang tsung, panik

• Would you have a master/teacher/sensei? If so...who?

(Do i really need to say it?)

Raiden and fujin would be the best teachers (both with their similar yet different approaches)

However, i would so vibe with master bo rai cho. One, i laugh at fart jokes. Two, i may like drinking. And three, approaching things with cautious optimism is always the best tactic for me.

• Fatalities,brutalities,or friendship?

I love friendship HOWEVER this is mortal kombat...

My favorite fatalities and brutalities are varied amongst characters and the games. So i would describe my favorite kinds to be...

How exaggerated they are, as in how unnecessary you are killing someone from ripping them apart to blowing them up.

How much gore there is, from gushing blood and guts to a whole skeleton popping out.

How quick they are, slow and painful or quick and... still painful.

• What stage would you NOT wanna be stuck in?

Dead pool, the smell must be atrocious. Like someone filled a chlorine soaked pool with road kill. The mix of chemicals unknown and death has to at least made one kombatant throw up.

That or the kytinn stage, god i hate that stage who thought THAT was a good idea??? The gore i can handle but bugs and the hives and the eggs eeughhhh!!! No thanks >:(

• Who would be absolutely terrifying to fight in mk. Even if it was at its fairest and you had the highest advantage.

Shao kahn due to trauma fighting this asshole many a times.

Although i gotta say the scariest might have to be either shinnok or onaga. Those two are literally beings who will end realms, compared to them? Shao kahn is a little kitten.

• Who's your least faves and why?

To be honest, i dont have a character i hate and wished didn't exist, but rather be written better. But to pick someone, it'd have to be either kronika or Stryker. Kronika bc in canon shes stupid, ugly, and annoying to fight not even fun to beat in the sense of accomplishment but rather getting it over with.

Stryker bc (acab) his character is literally just some dude. Yeah Johnny cage is a Hollywood star but also a serious fighter with chi energy, and sonya is fckin military and has her own agendas. Stryker is just some riot cop thrown into all of this and while that type of character can be done good as a vessel for the "every man" i just think he's boring.

Same goes for cassie cage and Jacqui Briggs but even with them they can be developed in the right hands. Cassie being more of Johnny's protege and Jacqui being her own woman, both who are defenders of realms through and through.

• Who's in your opinion the best character to play as? Who is the worst?

Raiden, liu kang, scorpion and sub-zero (if you can get used to them)

I'd say there is no "worst" character to play as. As that is mostly due to how they are programmed in various games. I will say in terms of "not fun" to play with, is characters that feel op with just button mashing or learning only one special move and spamming that. Yeah its easy cheese but it feels cheep and ruins fun for both the opponent and myself. Against ai? Lol. Against a player? Unfair on both sides.

• Fave game?

Shaolin monks hands down, it shows its age with the gameplay and story BUT despite that its such an amazing beat em up. From running around and throwing hands, to the fatality meter and input. To the shaolin monks shared braincell and raiden dishing out hot gamer tips. Its silly stupid fun and honestly has the truest spirit of mortal kombat.

Senseless violence in the name of survival. Morals be damned, you have a realm to defend. Feel guilty after you slice this man in half ok? Now kick the big bad guy's ass!

• Least fave game?

I've heard the special forces game is the worst and i believe them, but i haven't played it so i dont count it for me.

I gotta say playing armageddon i hate how clunky it feels.

Storywise mk 11 is the WORST (sorrynotsorry) it just... they take everything built up in 10 and spit on it. Dark raiden who? Shinnok who? They added time nonsense and basically just copied avengers infinity wars homework (i say this as someone who once loved marvel to death and still loves spiderman)

And with the addition of aftermath they did some good changes but also did worse ones too so in the grand scheme of things, nothing changed. They added these "titans" that just replace the elder gods they just killed off for funsies rather than DO SOMETHING WITH THEM.

They fucking killed off kotal UNCEREMONIOUSLY (and while im kinda neutral with him i feel for the poor kotal fans)

they fuck up Sindel's character to turn her into a "hashtag girl boss thats powerful and sexy but really in a male gazy way still"

they make raiden even more useless with their clear favor of fujin (i love him but ffs stop treating him like the nicer bro in touch with mortals more than the fucking bro who's been with them LONGER and has a mortal son figure)

Oh i forgot they kill off future hanzo so all that progress he made? For nought. For fucking nought. In the dumbest way possible (the favoritism d'vorah has REEKS she killed off two popular 2d era characters and gets no real repercussions. Love her but fuck off man)

Shang tsung is the only good thing about that whole ass game. And his ending is better than liu kangs, which feels so intrusive to kung lao's whole ass legacy. Like fuck him he can't bring honor to his own bloodline but his "bestie" can???? Tf?!?

Liu kang is favored the most but suffers from "protag syndrome" and gets dbz levels of treatment. Gets all the power ups in the end and just goes "yeah im the chosen one fuck the rest of you" without saying it like good god.

I hate it bc bad writing. But i don't mind some things about it, i love sheeva and nightwolf and frost looks so good and geras and cetrion are pretty cool and kollector is kollector.

But the pre battle dialogue? Dog shit. Most ooc writing i ever fucking saw. 90% of it i skip going "he would not fucking say that"

"DEmi GoD" my nonexistent left nutsack.

(Sorry for the rant but i just have strong opinions on this as a long time fan)

• Favorite iteration of your faves? The least fave?

The best iterations of raiden are always the most weirdest places of media. For instance, defenders of the realm cartoon and conquest. Both with their uniquely 90s stank, raiden remains the best aspect of both media. The 95 movie also has the best raiden

Least iteration is mk 11 because he just feels so... wrong, if he was dark raiden i would accept it but he's supposed to be "light" yet his personality doesn't show it. Even in the moments where he goes "dark" it doesn't feel significant enough to have impact to me. Especially with how they take his character to be too detached (yet emotionally charged, but in a way that is writen by someone who hasn't had these feelings before of caving in under pressure and responsibility)

The ideal raiden is: wise, calm unless provoked, sassy, dilf.

• Who would you love to have a drink with?

I would say bo rai cho but i think my organs would explode with alchohol.

My safest bet would either be raiden or Johnny cage (he may hit on me but i know he'd fight another drunk guy or a coat rack for me)

• Who would you play board games/videogames with?

NOT shang tsung i know this fucker cheats (and is just too smart)

I wanna play street fighter with liu kang bc he's like a big brother to me :3

• Who would you have as a sparring partner?

Liu kang, i would pick kung lao but honestly i feel like kung lao is just slightly more ferocious than liu. So my bruises would be less with the dragon than the rabbit

(Fun fact: rabbits are more aggressive than you think)

• Who is your arch nemesis?

i honestly have no clue bc i don't like having beef with anyone. So it would have to be some random antagonist who declares me to be a nemesis bc i beat them hard that one time. (I genuinely dont know, someone tell me who my nemesis would be!)

• Who if given the chance to. Would you love to sit down and have a deep conversation with?

Raiden or fujin, I'd love to hear stories from their eternal life. Asking questions about what they see about life through their eyes, their opinions about humanity, what has changed about it and what hasn't.

Shang tsung I'd actually love to talk to just to hear what he has to say. I bet he's dying to info dump culture onto someone, either ming dynasty era culture or even cultures of outworld folk. Talking about magik, dark and "light" magiks. Religion, spirituality, politics and everything else.

• Where would you like to live in the mk verse?

I mean i already live in "earthrealm" but as in a place? Sky temple, or any temple really bc temples are cool and tranquil. Aesthetic af. Although shang tsung's island is really cool as long as its cleaned up a bit.

• Would you help johnny cage with a movie if given the opportunity?

Hell yeah! Although I'd rather take a minor role.

• What's your main outfit look like?

Fitting the old style kung fu aesthetic but with a sort of modern twist. Matching more with liu kang's aesthetic but blue and more accessories

• Do you have a self insert(s/i)? If so what do they look like?

See above for self insert.

I did have a self insert turned oc, katsumi. Look on my blog for them for their convoluted lore.

• Do you self ship? If so. With who?

Raiden, but also kuai liang in a complicated genderfluid fuckery of "only when i feel masculine" way i cant really explain in short.

• If you could change 3 major things about the story. What would you change?

Mortal kombat being more important than a tournament. There are tournaments that decide fates of the realms, and there are personal challenges that have a little more lax rules.

The elder gods actually enforcing these rules via divine intervention.

I have many ideas for many characters but one thing i have in mind for kabal is that, he actually is more involved with destiny than led on. Kabal is working in the black dragon to play the long game of taking it down for good, but cetrion is secretly and subtly using him to manipulate destiny in a sort of "butterfly effect" for what she perceives as "greater good" but its biased to "order and light" and actually messes up the balance of the universe.

• If you could have the power of the crown,would you take it? If so what would you do? If not,who would you give it to and why?

I would not change anything, that sort of power has too many variables. I would still keep it so others can't access this power. I would be lying if i said i wouldn't be tempted to "juuusst change a little thing, just one thing, one little tiny insignificant thing" but ultimately any change no matter how minor always has that variable of messing things up. Changing destiny itself is always a gamble.

• What is a race/species in mk you want to be explored or expanded upon?

The kytinn, they should be more than "disgusting bugs" because there are like billions of insects with so many different shapes and sizes and colors. And not all are slimey and ugly some are so beautiful and some are really beneficial to the environment.

More shokan, can't get enough of those four arms.

Whatever species that birdman was in defenders of the realm

And the saurians, more on reptile's people plz and thank.

• What part of the lore is underrated or underused?

ELDER. GODDAMN. GODS!!!

More about the lin kuei and the shirai-ryu, esp the shirai-ryu.

Hell, just gods in general. Raiden and fujin can't literally be the only ones. What about other pantheons? What about other realms and their gods? Rain cant be the only demi god argus produced. More about this god war thingy that happened in the lore that one time and just never gets brought up.

• Opinion on the special forces?

Good but should stay out of the spotlight as much as possible. This is mortal kombat, not call of duty and certainly not s.h.i.e.l.d.

• Opinion on the elder gods?

as useful as politicians, which is to say NOOOOOOOOT.

Jokes aside. The elder gods are so interesting and i wish we knew all of their names or most of them. How many are in counsel? What do they do most of the time?

What really IS their role in the mortal kombat universe? Were there elders before and no longer? What was shinnok really like before he went mad and evil?

• Opinion on the old timeline? New timeline?

Now here's a hot topic, i gotta say both have their pros and cons like anything.

I will say though, no writers can hold a candle to john tobias and (when he wasn't too big for his britches) ed boon's writing.

• Opinion on the "kombat kids"?

Loads of potential!

I dont mind them, hell i love kung jin and takeda. Cassie and Jacqui however leave a little room for improvement (more so on cassie's part) but i blame the writers being mostly dudes who haven't met a lot of women.

• Are you a heroic kharacter,villainous,neutral,etc?

Im probably neutral leaning heroic??

• How dirty are your willing to fight?

Depends on how dirty, are we talking dirt in the eye or psychological warfare?

For me it may depend on the stakes and context. I might fight dirty in a hairy situation. But if there is a lot at risk, probably not afraid to utilize every dick move possible.

• If tempted by an enemy to join them if it ment saving your realm,home,loved ones,friends.....would you?

Yeah, but not without trying to figure a way out/eeking out the benefits of playing mole

• If you were to be in an arranged marriage with a "bad guy" who would you rather be with? What about a "good guy"?

Had a hilarious idea cetrion gives raiden a "handmaiden" as a gift. And he's so mad bc he feels weird about being served and worshipped in that way (although all gods have an inherent desire to be worshiped)

Gotta say shang tsung may be an evil sorcerer who would steal my soul, but he'd give me a better time than shao kahn at least. At least be a bit nicer

• If you could kiss any kharacter,who would it be?

Who do you think~?

Although i gotta say mileena deserves a big smooch, she deserves a lot of tender love and care C'mon ppl are so mean to her give her sharp teeth some love

• Would you show your opponent mercy?

Yes, buuut if it's someone who's fatally wounded a "mercy kill" would probably be best. However accidents happen and "fatality" may be the only result.

But letting someone live isn't always the nicest thing to do anyways. Especially if you wound them, and their spirit, and let them deal with it.

• If you had to pick a kharacter to die or killed off,for good. (Aka no bringing back for plot,like actually they ded ded bro) who would it be?

Gotta say kabal but only at the most opportune time that really hits the hardest.

Quan chi, killed by scorpion in the most le epic way possible.

Jerrik (lol sorry jerrik)

Ermac (sorry ermac but maybe its for the best you have eternal rest. No more mortal kombat for you at least)

• Who would be a better guest kharacter?

Any street fighter bad guy (or character in general. Their crossover is LONG OVERDUE MAN. Long overdue.)

Terminator can stay bc he's been referenced before in mk as easter eggs.

Deadpool because his inability to die plus his chaos is just on brand for mortal kombat.

• Opinions on guest kharacters?

THERE SHOULD BE NONE WHATSOEVER

Or at the very least be the only payed dlc, and take at maximum 3 slots. And make fucking sense. And WILL NEVER EVER IN AN INFINITE AMOUNT OF YEARS BE CANON

noteverythingneedstobeacrossoverandnoteverycrossoverneedstobecanonforfucksakeguys

• What rules of mk are absolutely necessary and what rules do you think would be absolutely bullshit? (This one is for people who actually give a damn about tournament rules,lore rules,and general rules that were established in lore. If you dont care. Skip this.)

The whole of mortal kombat being as fair as possible to mortals to defend themselves against threats is necessary and i wish they'd show rules against magiks. Like an official tournament they show that kombatants can't use magic, chi or otherwise, only pure skills with their physical bodies. They can use weapons provided that they were in the arena prior to kombat, they cannot use weapons given outside of kombat.

There's no bs rules that come to mind i would get rid of. There's loopholes that can be taken advantage of and getting rid of those we'd have no plot.

My problem lies mostly with canon never showing the full set of rules until convenient. And even then just how enforced are those rules? How much can raiden and/or the elder gods really do? Can someone just say "fuck the rules i can do whatever i want actually" and have 0 consequences? Some media depicts shao kahn breaking some established rules but nothing really happens except in 9, but even then im pretty sure he already broke a few minor rules anyways?

• What features would you keep,get rid of,and better utilize or polish up. Or even add?

Keep the x-ray moves those were awesome.

Turn the weird defence/offense thing into one whole convenient energy bar.

Maybe trim the fat with augments, as fun as those are, i think they shouldn't have had that much in 11 as it felt personally to me more like a mobile game with getting them and putting them on.

KEEP all of the accessibility options in 11 like i dont use half of them but i was very happy with how accommodating it was.

Fuckin ACTUALLY balance the characters, use the "tank, long ranged, short ranged, speedy, glass canon" type method of balancing these characters. Give them reasonable strengths and weaknesses that can be beaten with any character with a certain strategy. If they have an op move give a fair punishment like a long cooldown time or a one time use.

For additions. I had an idea for a "karma" system (that could be optional.) For instance, certain things you do in battle can rack up good or bad karma, like for example spamming the same power move (bad karma) or blocking a lot (good karma) and once this meter fills up either way, you get a buff or debuff. Good karma could give you reduced damage or heal a little bit of health. Bad karma could disable block or disable a certain power move. Giving kombat a new experience, to your benefit or detriment. (Changing your strategy of spamming hellport when you play scorpion, you know who you are)

• Who is more aesthetically appealing?

They all have their aesthetics tbh. No one kombatant is the same (we dont count the ninjas they have to share clothes)

NSFW:

• If you had to have a one night stand with a kharacter who would it be?

Im not a person to really have those, but I'd have to say either raiden or Johnny cage. Im sure Johnny is no stranger to drunken one night stands

• Who in your opinion has the biggest pp? Whether in energy or literally the biggest

Shao kahn, i KNOW this man's cock huge and he has the metaphorical and literal balls to match.

Close second is raiden and hanzo. They are packing down there ;)

• Who would you say gives the best oral?

Shang tsung and fujin, Although shang tsung would win overall bc fujin wants to tease how you squirm under him, but it's rude to talk with his mouth full~

• Where in the mk verse would you liked to get fucked the most?

Shang tsung's throne room and sky temple. So sacrilegious~!

• Who would send the most chills if they did dirty talk to you?

Fujin is the master of dirty talk, he can say the most utter filth with the sweetest of face. But for me personally raiden just has a really nice voice so he could say something so tame and i melt from the vibrations of his voice.

• If you woke up next to your mk blorbo,naked,in their bed. What is your reaction?

Oh no! Anyways~

• Sexual tension training session? Thoughts?

Y e s. Although raiden would prefer such acts to a minimum, especially with anyone else present. But in private, tease him enough and he'll teach you a "personal lesson~"

• What god,elder god,or immortal kharacter would you smash?

If i couldn't pick raiden, either fujin or rain. Maybe cetrion, maybe.

• If a god caught with your mk f/o (if you have one) doing the do. What would your reaction be? Theirs?

Raiden being caught with cetrion barging in with divine nonsense and just gets so mad. The audacity of this elder, smh... i would probably be like anyone else being walked in on, shocked and annoyed.

• Who is the most husband/wife/spouce material? Who is the least?

Liu kang and kung lao are husband material the most.

Scorpion and jax are canonly husband material.

Raiden is a dilf so yeah he's husband material.

The least husband material? Im sorry it probably has to be sonya, relationships to her are already so complicated i can't see her being the upmost wife/mom material regardless what canon said. Although if you mean in the sense of "married to her work" then yeah, match made in heaven.

• Would you bring back sexy outfits? Skimpy attire for everyone? Or just keep it rather tame or realistic outfits?

Everyone in mortal kombat should have at least one sexy alt costume.

Everyone.

• The smuttiest,filthiest,hc you have for your faves.

Raiden enjoys eating sushi off his lover's body. And fucking in the water, either a hot springs, a bath, in the rain shower. Raiden also has to constantly hold himself back from going too rough, otherwise he's going to slam into his lover too hard and give them bruises. He wants to go deep and be as close as physically possible.

• How loud is your mk blorbo in bed?

Raiden is just very loud, especially when he kums. He's a god of thunder, how can he remain quiet when he's getting the best head of his life?

Abahyeahhh~

• Mk Blorbo,angry sex? What's it like? What about other faves?

Raiden doesn't like to have angry sex even if he probably should let off steam like that. But when he does, he's rough, stern and commanding. May accidentally zap his lover with the occasional stray lightning emanating from his body. But afterwards he's very attentive to make sure he didn't completely wreck them.

• Mk Blorbos Opinions on virginity?

Raiden does not care at all. Although he'll tease you if you are rather perverted for a virgin and know some things about sex.

• Mk blorbos opinions on breeding kink? Would they have this kink? Would they be willing to get into this kink?

Raiden is too cautious to actually go through with it, but if he thinks about it, he'll blush like crazy. He might indulge but he's mad careful about not accidentally having any little demigods.

• How would your fave go about asking for sex? Would they be straight up or would they give hints and play around with you? What about you?

Raiden would be straightforward but tactful about it. He probably would be dropping hints he needs sex more than he cares to admit by accident.

• How long would they wait to have sex with you? Would they be ok with rather early on or would they actually wait a bit?

Raiden tries to wait as long as possible for an established relationship. But if the tension is too much, he may crack sooner than he wanted to. But he's very resistant to such temptations first, so him asking someone for sex means there's probably been a century's worth of sexual tension.

• Would people know about your affairs or would they keep it under the radar? Or would they kinda have something in between?

Raiden prefers keeping affairs between the person he's seeing. Not that there's anything against the rules about having an affair, gods care less than mortals about such a topic. Raiden rather just not deal with the headache of being asked unnecessary questions. And not want to embarrass the person he's having sex with. On a "need to know" basis.

• Would they fuck after a fight? Would they fuck during a sparring match? Would they do this during training? What is their opinions about sexy times during kombat?

"You can have sex AFTER mortal kombat." Raiden is far too serious to desire any sort of sexual activities during kombat. However, there are certain exceptions if one can rile him up enough. But be prepared, he'll show no mercy for such "distractions."

• Turn ons? Turn offs?

Raiden will immediately pin you against the nearest surface if you kiss, lick, and or suck his neck. Especially if it's bare. He's sensitive there and its a surefire way to get pounded one way or another.

He also likes "purity" and "innocence" in a playful manner. Wear white or light colored garments under an outfit where its easy to reveal them, and it can easily make him blush and turn his hat down to hide it. Raiden will definitely make time to find a secluded area to "get a better look at such inappropriate training attire"

Raiden is immediately turned off from causing too much damage to his partner. He can cause a few bruises here and there, but hates drawing blood, and leaving scars. Kombat already does that enough as is.

He's not exactly turned off by degradation, but it just does nothing for him. Either way.

• What they seek in a sexual partner (aka what they find sexually attractive) vs what they seek in a significant other/spouce (aka marriage material)

Someone who is honest about what they want, someone who is also respectful and polite about it as well. And is good at teasing just enough to imply some sort of cheekiness. Sounds like a contradiction, but really, raiden prefers his attention grabbed, and then gently taken to reveal intentions.

But for marriage material? Has to be good with kids and has a strong sense of fairness. Who loves life and wants to defend it with their own, for themselves and others. And have a good sense of humor, and be able to get him out of a grumpy mood.

• Who would they have a dick measuring kontest with. Aka who would they have to throw hands the most with for your affections?

Shao kahn is competing for raiden's love interest solely for the flex. And is willing to do many dirty things to rile raiden up.

Which is the worst idea ever, since raiden will not be afraid to hold back and pummel shao Kahn even as a mortal within every inch of that tyrant's life.

Shang tsung would play around but unlike shao Kahn he's not stupid enough to piss raiden off to that degree. He knows when to get out when the static builds up to critical level.

• Do you like them softer/romantic or more spicy/kinky?

Depends on the mood but soft and spicy is a nice touch. Raiden can go any way, but usually he'd be more soft and romantic.

• What "bedroom" nicknames would you call them? What about what they'd call you?

Raiden loves being called "lord" or "master" in the bedroom. But he'll laugh at particularly silly nicknames like "lightning rod" or "thunder daddy". They are absolutely not sexy but its funny to him, and laughter during sex enhances it so much.

A personal nickname would be "raiun" which means "thunder cloud" but other than that his name is hot enough when you pronounce it with a Japanese accent.

[etheraltale]

etherealtale char facts bcoz idk (wip?)

big fat ass fucking spoiler warn ✨✨

lets start with snas

he owned a wheat farm with papyrus but he rarely ever tended to it. it was usually papyrus who took care of the crops. sans was the one quality checking the groups of wheat and separating them in two groups. half of the harvest was to sell, the other half was to eat and turn into bread. usually it would be papyrus walking to the market and selling them too.

he wears a quartz pendant of an upside down heart which represents his soul for some reason. papyrus has a pendant like this too.

now were getting into spoiler territory, continue sans' segment at ur own risk :)

since papyrus left for the royal guard, he was left with money by papyrus, as he went to fight in the war going on between the monsters n humans. although, the money was originally given to him to pay off the taxes. but instead, he spent the money on wine and other alcoholic stuff. he also spent money on cigarettes. which stained a few of his clothes.

papyrus ✨✨

papyrus didn't just tend to the crops, he also happened to be training. he often punched trees and made training equipment using the materials he had on hand. he fenced using long, thin sticks with sans sometimes. he took his training quite seriously.

he also happened to cook alot, he loved baking bread and stuff and his favorite ingredient was probably any fruit jam. he normally cooks sweet things, but whenever he comes back from the market he always brings home a few tomatoes for sans cause apparently he really likes eating them raw. none of them are sure why though.

sliightt spoilers ✨

unlike classic paps, ethereal paps isnt too childish, but that doesn't mean hes given up on his childhood dreams. hes always dreamed of fighting somehow. back then, undyne didnt exactly trust papyrus with fighting. he wishes undyne could see him now.

Friskk yaay

frisk grew up to be king (im sorry i dont know what the nb term is))

they ruled about half the country. the other half was taken over by the monsters since they escaped. frisk's castle is decorated with undertale references and icons EVERYWHERE. (this also includes asgore's castle but eh i need more facts)

for example, their ballroom floor has the 7 souls of the innocent. and there are buttercups painted everywhere, and a few real ones. frisk, chara and an unknown child have their own massive stained glass window portraits. maybe flowey's face is painted on the floor somewhere too but idk.

Alphys!!

first of all i wanna get this outta the way but, alphys is definitely my fave so far lol but anyways this whole segment contains spoilers so keep reading at ur own riskk

Since undyne sacrificed herself for frisk and the rest of the human race, as soon as alphys stepped foot onto the overworld ground, she promised to dedicate her life to a new invention, the telescope (sorry gallileo-) she and undyne have always dreamed of seeing the stars together. she dedicates the invention to her in hopes that she can maybe watch undyne in heaven, probably just a metaphor tho.

she lives in an abandoned watchtower with mettaton as her assistant she often paints the stars too. she sometimes paints on her walls too. she also paints undyne occasionally.

i believe she also dreams about showing her invention off to the world, but she's very shy and stuff so she refuses. the old watchtower was built beside a beachside. alphys thought this would be a nice place to live because first of all, its rlly pretty duh, second, sand = glass so she can use it for the lenses of her invention.

i loaf ethereal alphys so much hGhHGHHghH

(this is still a wip! expect more bios in the future i guess)

[b-flows]

Alright upon my initial listening to Imploding the Mirage my faves (minus the songs released earlier) are:

Blowback

Imploding the Mirage

My God

[mrstsung]

Rules:

Plz read before interacting

💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚

I am well above being a minor. I am also not your babysitter. If you are not of age nor comfortable looking at content that is intended for 18+ audiences. You need to either leave,block me,or find another blog. Course this is a mortal kombat fanblog and self ship blog. YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER.

Psa: I am not a babysitter. If you don't feel comfy looking at certain content. Plz do not look. I try to tag ass much as i can that my nsfw writing is for mature audiences and try to inform others that if you are not comfortable with said content, are not allowed to view said content,etc. Plz do not consume said content. You can't blame bloggers and content creators for responsibly tagging and you still consume it and then complain to them about said content when you looked when they gave you warning. But if you still insist on consuming the content. This is in your responsibility. Im not discouraging anyone fron reading smut. (We've all done it,don't lie) but you should know about safety and the consequences of going into nsfw spaces or spaces that have that available. Dont complain the rain is wet because you were stupid to go out into that storm knowing full well you'd get wet without your umbrella. Same goes with nsfw writers,content creators,and artists. Tho tumblr is hella oof when it comes to this stuff anyways. But i want y'all to know this upfront. I tag my posts accordingly to the best of my ability. And give a fair amount of warning. The rest is up to you.

I am a huuuuuuge mortal kombat fangirl. Been a fan of the games since i was but a baby gamer,been a fan of the 95 movie too. So expect me to oogle at this. I have very little people to properly talk to. Also im hella awkward but friendly.

I have my own au and mixed bag of nuts timeline. Because the main timeline is so messed up and all over the place. It feels like a rip off of the mcu. No offense. I'm oldschool with mk,so this is a way of me keeping it simple. If thats not your cup of tea thats fine too. But that's what i go by.

Plz no slander,rude comments,or creepy shit in my askbox. I will leave it open till further notice. Anons will be turned off tho. As i dont trust like that. If there is any whiff of disrespect,hate,etc. I will turn off the askbox.

I am a shang tsung simp and mostly post about him. But a few of my other faves will have honorable mentions. But this is a shang type thang goin on here.

💚heart and soul🐍 : self ship tag with shang tsung

Everything else will be tagged as normal and accordingly. I have other self ship tags as well.

I mostly write for myself,i don't really take requests. I used to in the past but it got so overwhelming. So i mostly just do stuff for me. I apologize if that sounds a tad selfish of me in this small fandom we have here. But i really feel more comfortable just doing content stuff for myself. But i will share and reblog as much as i am able to.

I have adhd,anxiety,and i get overwhelmed easy. So plz be gentle with me. This is important for you to know.

Added on. I actually do have a irl significant other. (I'm adding this just because ive had weirdos in the past be creepy to me,i forgot to mention this. My apologies. My significant other follows me on this blog too. Plus he likes some of my content as well and wants to support me too)

If you wanna see my content you will have to follow me. Tumblr has either wrongfully banished me to the void or the app is absolutely garbage. Either way. You will have to follow. I will try to get back with you asap.

That's all for now. Just the basics and important things. If you wanna know anything else just ask. Enjoy your stay 💚

[soysaurus]

i’ve wanted to make a dabihawks fic rec list of my faves for a while now, so here they are (below the cut)!

when you’re flying high (take my heart along) — eliestarr

T, 10.4k, complete, jet mechanic!Touya and fighter pilot!Keigo WW2 au

this is just a super sweet fic and it has a happy ending!! (yes, even with seeing the happy ending tag i was still so fucking scared and screaming in their dms—it was not fun. i was actually terrified, but this fic is so so fluffy and sweet and, yo, i was actually crying ngl)

Matchbox (Strike Gently and Away from Body) — SkarySkylar

M, 15k, complete, college au where Hawks summons demon!Dabi

honestly, so fucking funny. this author has great taste; it’s definitely reread-able and i just love it. the friendships included are such a treat, too!

Like real people do — Starlightbright

T, 15k, ongoing, youtube au

god, this fic is just so so cute. ALL the fluff!! i’m just a sucker for youtube aus tbh, and this person writes them so well.

Seven for a Secret (Nine for a Kiss) — Kendrick_Harlow

T, 35.7k, complete, quirkswap au

KH may just be a god ngl

Second Lap Around The Block — teaandtumblr

T, 19.6k, complete, de-aged!Dabi au

it would have been illegal for me not to include this fic tbh... it’s so perfect

He’s A Married Man — CelestialCata

T, 0.8k, complete, Hawks visits Dabi in Tartarus

so fucking good, but i cried; this is your warning. i might just be a really soft gay tho... sigh, dabihawks is my undoing ;;w;;

Unexpected, Unmasked. — nickyfics

G, 3.9k, complete, masquerade au

fuck, dabi is such a smooth fucking asshole. also just the aesthetic of this fic. the a e s t h e t i c. smh, i’m still drooling over it.

heart a canopy of shame — wellthengetouttathesoupaisle

T, 5.6k, complete, soukoko (from bsd) au

no kidding, this fic actually OWNS my entire heart. i love bsd. i love dabihawks. [insert incoherent gay screaming]

Love Letters to My Landlord — pandorasv13

T, 26.8k, complete, Keigo is sent away to relax and Dabi is his landlord au

URGH THIS FIC IS SO GOOD. the pining? immaculate. i cannot stress enough how fucking good this fic is aaaa i wanna reread it. seriously, if you haven’t read it yet go!! [shoos you away lovingly] gooooo!!!!

Equivalent Exchange — inexchangeforyoursoul

T, 57.3k, ongoing (but very soon to finishing), canon divergence wingless!Keigo au

i’ve had the wonderful pleasure of beta-ing the recent chapters of this fic and i love it with my entire soul. sigh, i’m still here crying. of joy!! ksdfbdskfbskhf this is a happy fic. i’m just...a really, really weak person [laughs in casually dying]

not the only one (with music in your ears) — bittermoons

T, 24.9k, complete, mute choreographer!Dabi and burned-out pop star!Hawks au

this is honestly just the softest shit, folks. like, yo. it’s just really fucking good. moons is an excellent writer and the queen of fluff.... until she started turning into a bit of an angst hooligan... @bittermoonswrites​ yes, this is a public callout (jk ily) BUT this is a very, very good fic and aaaaaaaaa

space between us — vitane

T, 55.3k, complete, getting back together college au

oh, what a surprise. another fic that owns my entire fucking heart and soul. hnnng this fic hurts but in the best way... the pining ;;w;; i am a sucker

this....has gotten very long lmao so i’m going to stop now!! ty to all the fic writers and content creators for this ship <33 you are all feeding me very well, and i’m loving every moment of it. i may make a part two to this because there are a lot of fics that definitely should be in this list... sooo maybe look out for that? cya, folks [wave]

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟒)

part three

note - i wanna thank everyone for reading once again! i'm currently in the process of writing imagines, those will be posted throughout the week, i don't want to clog up my blog bc i want y'all to see this chapter!

this one switches pov a lil more frequently, so bear with me <3 also not as smutty as other chapters, this is more of an emotionally-charged chapter!!! still a teensy bit smutty thooo. i want to make it clear that while this fic is definitely rooted in smut & sex & sex work, it is not porn without plot & will not ONLY be smut as i put effort and time into plot development / character development! i'm sure y'all know that tho. there will be conflict, there will be plot!!! i feel like that's clear already but there's discourse on smut happening rn and i wanna voice myself! omg anyways luv y'all enjoy the reaaad <3

new taglist!

playlist

word count - 8.3k

warnings - age gap, sex work, smut, vibrator, ANGSTYYY like hella dramatic, dirty talk

That slight shift that you and Steve both felt, that happiness that you realized came from talking to one another, only lasted so long... for you. You could hardly sit in your feelings about your situation with Steve before another thing that occupied all your time came crashing down upon you. Except this time, the thing brought you no such happiness or curiosity.

    You had spent almost your entire senior year working on a special lab project about drought tolerant plants in Southern California where you lived and went to school, and your professor was making completing your project incredibly hard for you. And you felt incredibly stressed out about the entire situation - not only was the project necessary to graduate, but it was your heart and soul for the past year. Now, your professor was basically saying it was "ineligible."

     "Ineligible?" Aaliyah repeated after you, after you told her what your professor had said.

     "Whatever the hell that means," you huffed as you power walked down the street, hand in hand with Aaliyah, your free hand holding a coffee.

     "That's so fucking annoying, holy shit," Aaliyah pressed a hand to her forehead. "He had the whole year to talk to you about changing your topic and...”

     "And he never did," you sighed, frowning. You settled down onto a bench where the two of you sat next to each other, staring out into the busy streets and sipping your iced coffees.

California was a beautiful place, and you were a native, you'd lived there all your life. You knew the ins and outs of your city, knew Southern California like it was your backbone. And you loved it here - loved the sun, the beaches, the way the people were either shady in the best way or incredibly friendly. You'd never really known any other place like you knew this place. You were just glad that if you had to be stressed, you could do so in California.

Aaliyah pouted, feeling for you. She placed her hand on your knee to be comforting,

     "Babe..."

     "It's okay," you sighed. You sucked it up, like always, because you had learned how to fend for yourself ever since you realized that depending on others could only lead to downfall. You would figure this out the same way you figured everything else out... on your own. You figured out your house on your own, your job, your finances.

     "Is it, though?" Aaliyah pursed her lips and squinted at you. Despite how much you tried to fend for yourself, Aaliyah was always there for you. She was one of your biggest supporters.

     "I'll just keep visiting during his office hours and work this out."

Aaliyah rolled her eyes,

     "Men are so annoying, girl. You know what, he probably wants to fuck you. With your fine ass. That's why he's doing all this."

You chuckled, shaking your head and covering your mouth, trilling back in response,

       "Okay girl, don't get too ahead of yourself."

       "I'm serious! Men are evil. Oh, except your fave."

You made a face, nearly choking on your iced coffee. This was news to you,

       "Who are we talking about?"

       "You know," Aaliyah sang slightly, nudging you and leaning against your shoulder. "Mr. Won't Show His Face."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, but bit down on your straw with a knowing smile, eyes peeking out over the top of your shades. If you were being honest, this idea of Steve, whoever he really was, had been a fun thing to entertain during this period of stress. You'd been talking and engaging with him for two and a half weeks now, and the connection you two had was undeniable.

But you knew better - maybe he wasn't just another customer, because you could really talk to him and felt like he was real - then again, he was strictly a customer. You liked him, a lot, but you couldn't like him any more than you already did. That would be dangerous and silly, and create unrealistic expectations. It wasn't like you could go on dates or anything.

    Still, talking to him (and performing for him) did help to distract you from your stress, at least for a small amount of time. Steve was becoming less shy, less inhibited. He cracked jokes and was starting to keep up with your innate sense of sexuality, starting to navigate you, find you the way a bee might find its nectar, hidden deep inside the curvatures of a flower.

If you were a flower, you'd probably be a sunflower - bright, yellow, almost always in a positive mood, or at least trying to keep yourself in a positive mood. More than that though, sunflowers were tall and looming - you felt like that represented your put togetherness and how hard you worked, how smart you were. Only sometimes it was hard to keep yourself up and tall, but you always did it, time and time again.

But when it came to Aaliyah's comments about Steve, she mostly just made you laugh.

    "Haven't seen him yet, have you?" Aaliyah asked, raising her brows expectantly.

     "No. And I'm fine with that. He's simply another very loyal customer who I happen to like."

     "Hm," Aaliyah hummed, and you could tell her mind was up to something - some very wishful, and mischievous thinking.

     "What are you up to?" you narrowed your eyes at her and glared at her, and she just shook her head with a lazy smile,

     "Nothing. Just thinking that maybe it would be cool if he really was this really hot guy that you actually knew and he wasn't creepy and y'all... you know... started dating. Just to get your mind off a lot of crap. I know, I know, strictly against the rules, blah blah blah. No feelings for customers, it's basic shit. But in a perfect world..."

      "I know," you sighed without thinking, sipping at your drink.

     "You know?" Aaliyah questioned, surprised.

You shrugged,

     "So I've thought about it. Except, you know, in a perfect world, I'd meet a guy like Steve in like, a farmer's market or something. Not on my shady ass cam shows."

Aaliyah snorted laughing, and at the sound of her laughter, you joined in.

You continued,

     "I mean, not Steve exactly, because that would be weird. I just mean, a guy like Steve."

     "You mean a guy who makes you feel the same way he makes you feel," Aaliyah corrected you, and you glared at her again, pushing her gently.

     "Don't push it," you teased, but you meant it - you might have liked Steve, but that was all there was to it - you liked him, he was a distraction. And maybe even that was too much.

✺ ✺ ✺

As for Steve, he thoroughly enjoyed his time with you. He thought constantly about how you made him feel, how much he looked forward to talking to you. How everyday, his worry about your situation becoming more serious dissipated slowly. He could feel himself easing into you, everything that made up this character you created called Moonrose. Conversation seemed casual, like you knew each other in real life, it felt easy, and there was no pressure.

As for your connection, he had finally acknowledged that it was real, and more than either of you had wanted to realize at first. But now, there was no shame, no worry in acknowledging what the two of you had, because you were both smart enough to keep it at this level. It was like a shallow pool. There would be no drowning.

He mostly talked to Bucky about you when it came to the emotional aspect of it. He still feared that if he talked to Tony, it might come across as an issue, and might put a pause on what he had with you. But everyone noticed how different Steve was acting. Even without the phase he had gone through where he was sexually frustrated and angry, he still acted different.

Lighter on his feet, more smiley. And he was always on top of his work. You weren't distracting him from his duty, so that made the fact that he knew you had a unique connection with him more bearable. Because of you, he was learning to worry less. To have a little more fun.

    It was a bright day that week, the sun filtering in through the large windows of the meeting room where everyone was gathered. Steve was engaging in some mindless conversation with Sam and Bucky in which they were debating whether or not pineapple belonged on pizza.

     "No. I'm not sure why everyone keeps trying to put all these twists on pizza. It's pizza," Bucky scoffed, Sam rolling his eyes as a result.

    "You're just closed off. With your old ass," Sam retorted, and Steve made a face. Sam raised his hands up in surrender. "You know what I mean. What about you Steve?"

Honestly, Steve had never even tried pineapple on pizza and he didn't understand why there was such a big fuss about the banal question.

    "I don't really have an opinion," he shrugged, not expecting Sam and Bucky to start clamoring over him and trying to force him to pick a side.

    Before he even got to grasp the situation, he felt Natasha patting his shoulder,

"Hey, mind if I use your laptop? Mine's gone haywire, don't really feel like messing with it right now."

"Yeah," Steve agreed without a second thought, setting his laptop on the table and letting Natasha handle it- she was better with tech stuff than he ever was.

Natasha would use his laptop to showcase some data and start off their morning. It seemed innocent enough —a simple, barely impacting sacrifice. But Steve clearly hadn't thought everything through, because the moment Natasha logged in and hooked up Steve's computer to the holographic projector, more than just data appeared on the screen.

In fact, a whole array of women, all of them engaging in various sexual acts or preparing themselves to, showed up on the screen. And at the top, where the browser was, were the words "girlsonfilm.com."

Steve hadn't noticed all the clamor, too busy thinking (thoughts of you and thoughts of work), until Bucky called it to his attention.

"Steve," he nudged him frantically, his voice a loud whisper.

When Steve looked up at the screen, his face couldn't have gone any redder. He hadn't thought about this at all, and he had clearly forgotten to close out his browser. His heart sunk all the way to his stomach - because it wasn't just Natasha seeing this, it was everybody. And that included Tony, who was glaring pointedly at Steve from the head of the table. Meanwhile, all the others were too busy heckling Natasha and making brash comments about what was appearing onscreen. To Steve's relief, your face didn't show up, but this just might have been worse than only your screen appearing.

     "Woah, Nat, I didn't know you got down like that!" Sam hooted, cupping his mouth with his hands.

Natasha, though she was in shock as well, rolled her eyes,

     "This is Steve's laptop."

Now a hush, then another clamor of confusion and heckling, all directed towards Steve. He couldn't recoil any more, feeling the pangs of embarrassment as his eyes flashed between every one of his teammates. He felt as if there were an asteroid approaching fast, and he was right where it would land, too slow to move out of its way.

     "Steve, what do you know about 'girls on film'?" Sam nearly cackled, reading the name of the site.

Steve sighed deeply, locking eyes with Natasha as he mouthed "turn it off" to her.

     "I am, I am," she ensured him, quickly disconnecting the laptop from the projection, unplugging completely.

A beat passed, everyone staring expectantly at Steve, who was staring down at the table, trying to process his own thoughts. Like for starters, why didn't he log out the last time, and why didn't he remember to log out? And then his mind went to deeper places. He hadn't been intentionally secretive with his actions, but he had been intentionally private. It had to do with his own growth, he was learning how to navigate a world that was new to him and somehow helping him at once. He didn't want to have to share this with everyone, it was nice having this to himself, he had no intentions of revealing what he had been doing in his past time that made him so happy.

One of the reasons he didn't want everyone to know about his situation was because he didn't want to have to be concerned with what everyone else might think. Because to begin with, being on a site for cam shows wasn't exactly everyone's idea of what Captain America might be up to these days.

It was a matter of his image, what values he was supposed to hold. This didn't exactly match, and Steve had just gotten over the idea that he was a bad, sneaky person because of what he chose to indulge in. At least here he knew it was ethical and not causing harm to you as a human being.

He also didn't want to have to deal with the insufferable questioning and teasing his team would put him through, or the judgment he thought they might put him through. He felt embarrassed, exposed, and like he had been ill prepared for a situation like this. He was just grateful they hadn't seen more, because that would've been a disaster. What they had seen was only at the surface level of what he'd been doing.

But his thinking was interrupted by Tony's voice, which broke through all the silence, and made Steve realize again the eyes that were on him.

     "Well, jig's up," Tony sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Care to explain?"

Steve locked eyes with Tony, as if hopeful that he wouldn't have to, but he knew it was best for him to just spit it out. Tony shrugged apologetically, and Steve took in a deep sigh, looking around at everyone at the table.

     "What was that?" Scott whimpered, probably the most distraught by what they had all seen.

Steve nodded solemnly and began to explain himself. He would tell the truth, but that didn't mean he had to tell them everything. You would be left out of this, if anything. He'd just explain to them that sometimes, duty calls - and sometimes, it's not at all work-related.

✺ ✺ ✺

It was just hours before your cam show when another disaster struck, the first one being the fact that your professor was giving you shit about your project. You were in the bathroom, getting ready for your show, fixing your hair up and doing your makeup, laying out an outfit, doing all the things you did to feel pretty before a show.

    Your phone lay beside you on the bathroom table, pinging with messages every now and then. You ignored it, leaning closer into the mirror to get a look at your lipstick, dabbing your fingers into the pigment on your lips.

You smiled, feeling that gratifying sense of achievement. Despite what was going on with your professor, you felt like you were doing well in life. You usually had a positive mindset, enjoyed your work although you sometimes felt as if you were buried deep in all your occupations: student, office worker, cam girl, designer, young woman. Your life was never dull, and you wouldn't trade it for anything. Talking to Steve helped too, but it was more than that.

But that sense of satisfaction all seemed to dissolve when you looked down at your phone, and saw a text from an unsaved number, glaring bright on your glowing lock screen of you hiking with Aaliyah. Still, you recognized it immediately.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

I miss you. Text me back.

✺ ✺ ✺

Steve wasn't exactly keen on joining your live show today, but he did so anyway, because he still had time to himself despite the spiral of events that had happened earlier. There was nothing else to do, and he didn't want to miss out on you after attending almost all of your shows for the past almost three weeks. Didn't want to just leave unexpectedly.

It felt strange that he felt this tug of commitment, but he brushed it off. He was just fulfilling his needs, which should even be expected of him. He was stressed again, after being caught up like he was. And maybe that was all the more reason not to watch your show tonight, but he wouldn't devoid himself of the simple pleasures of life. He'd learned that lesson a while ago, from a special someone called Moonrose.

After everything transpired, he explained himself calmly to his team, slowly to ensure that they'd understand that this wasn't the beginning of a deviant phase, that he wasn't throwing away his work responsibilities to lurk on the NSFW side of the internet. Not that they ever thought that to begin with, they never questioned his abilities or his authority for a minute, not even in the midst of what they'd seen that had shocked them.

This was the product of Steve's own insecurities and his admittedly silly fear that he was somehow letting his team down. He told them that he was on the site, as recommended by Tony, to relieve some "frustration" that he felt he didn't have the time or the means to release in real life. He said that while it had helped him do that, he wasn't throwing away his responsibilities, nor was he dependent on the site or the things on it, or the people on it for that matter.

He knew that if they knew about you, all those private sessions, all those conversations you'd had, the connection you had built between the two of you, it might be a different story. But because they didn't, they appreciated his honesty. They were confused, it didn't seem like the kind of thing Steve would be into, and he ensured them that it was a shock to him as well.

But they didn't mind on the whole, it was just a shock to everyone at first. They didn't think it called for a meeting, thought it was almost humorous how serious Steve was being about such a trivial situation. Wanda had joked about how we've all been there, Thor denied ever having to do such a thing because: "I have all the romantic partners anyone could ask for. I could introduce you Steve, but these Asgardian women are fiery, far beyond anything I believe you could handle." In the end, Steve was relieved, felt like it didn't have the disastrous outcome he'd been expected.

But he could feel his guard slowly coming back up. That was a close call, and it was a little too close for comfort. He didn't want to disregard you, but he couldn't afford to sink further in, and get his team involved. He just didn't want to face the consequences he could imagine if they knew how much he decided to stick with you, how much you talked, how it was teetering off the range of normal customer to cam girl interaction.

It wasn't like he was careless when it came to his interactions with you, but he also didn't want his team to know about his business when it came to you. He didn't want them thinking he was engaging too much, didn't want it to get to the point where he was worrying again or felt like he needed to deny himself such wonderful feelings.

All these things were on his mind while he waited for your live show to start. When it did, and he saw your face, he felt a little bit alleviated. Just for now, he could have this fantasy to himself. If they knew about the site, so be it. At least he had you to himself.

      "Hey guys," you mustered a smile, waving to the camera.

Unbeknownst to your viewers, you had spent the past few hours off camera panicking, on the verge of tears, calling Aaliyah frantically so she could help calm you down. That text from that mysterious unknown number had been from your ex's number. The same ex who made you fall into dependency patterns that you worked so hard to get out of, the one who made you feel like you had to work for his love. Like it wasn't something you deserved, just like anyone else.

You had worked so hard to finally wring out all the effects of him, all the bad habits you had fallen into because of him. That was part of the reason why you worked so hard. Not because you were actively avoiding him specifically, but because you were actively bettering yourself. You weren't looking for a relationship. But you knew that if you were in one now, the same things would never happen to you.

When you got that text, it triggered a flood of memories. Feelings you had to work to suppress and actually get over for months so you wouldn't fall back into the same desperate, needy patterns when it came to your relationships with people. All over a simple text from someone you hadn't heard from in almost a year. It hurt you how easy it was to get you to crack, even if you didn't spill out all the way. But on top of the added stress because of school, you were damn close.

You would do the show tonight, anyway. It helped you to escape, although Moonrose was a part of you, it didn't one hundred translate into real life. So in a way, this helped you escape real life. Just for a while. Just like Steve.

You grinned when you saw concerned comments from your watchers:

johnGuy182

Are you okay, moonrose? You seem a little sad.

zenongirl

Girl r u ok? i missed seeing your face!!!

     "Guys, I'm okay," you grinned. And you actually felt better seeing comments from your supporters. It reminded you to cheer up - they were looking for a good show, not a sob story. You leaned back, revealing your stomach in the sheer, sparkly fringed bra you chose to wear (another piece you had designed by yourself). "It's been a looong day."

Steve watched silently, observing your behavior. He didn't notice drastic changes, but you did appear less chipper. Then again, he brushed it off. He didn't expect you to be smiley all the time, you were human too, and this was your work.

"But I'm okay," you reassured, giving that signature grin, genuine and charming and alluring. You were trying to gently distract yourself, get into your act. "I hope you're all just as lovely as I am. I have a special game for you today."

You directed your viewers to your spinning wheel, which you had been working on crafting that week for a game. You grinned as you spinned it. Each act on the wheel cost a certain amount of tokens, and by the end of the game you would garner a bunch of funds. The show went by relatively quickly as you played the game, eventually ending up completely naked.

As ordered by the spinning wheel, you were to use a vibrator. You held it against your clit at the highest setting as you watched the numbers of viewers and the tokens jump up, Steve watching as he stroked himself leisurely. Your legs shook as you restrained yourself from your orgasm so as to increase the length of your showtime, garner more coins to encourage you to come.

     "Mm," you moaned, massaging the vibrator against your clit, getting wetter and slicker by the minute, sliding the toy between your folds. You laughed, breathless. "Fuck, this thing is so powerful. Someone make me come, please make me come. Just a few more tokens for me to come for you."

Steve was hesitant, but he decided to go ahead and give you the amount of tokens you needed. And when you heard the chime of the tokens being added to your account, and saw the name it was attached to, it was like a blast of euphoria. When your legs started to shake, when you started to moan and your stomach started to rise up and down, it was genuine. It was like you were back in a private room with him, although you weren't.

Your orgasm was blood-curdling in the best way, and you felt like you were releasing part of the stress of the past day, the past week. It didn't get any realer than this, once again you felt like he was really there to satisfy you.

      "Oh!" you exclaimed, your mouth dropping open and your blood flowing, moaning. "Yes, Steve, I'm coming for you. Thank you for making me come, Steve!"

Steve had been stroking himself along with you as he watched, and only let himself come now that you had come, his cheeks heating up as he heard you moan his name, something he hadn't been expected. Something about you saying his name like that where everyone could hear, even though he enjoyed the intimacy of private rooms, felt victorious. It felt lewd, salacious, but he couldn't help but enjoy that aspect of it. He moaned through grit teeth while he came, stroking himself to completion.

You came down, thanking everyone for attending and ending the show. But it wasn't long after that you had requested Steve for a private chat. He accepted, because he had gotten used to you doing this a little more frequently. It didn't scare him any more, he just thought of it as making conversation, taking advantage of this connection you had with each other. So when you requested, who was he to say no.

When the chat log opened, you put on your best happy face for Steve, trying to conceal how fatigued this week, today in particular, had made you. But your tired, bleak voice gave it all away, buried deep beneath your smile,

    "Hey, Steve."

Steve was surprised at the sound of your voice. Again, while he understood that you wouldn't be a happy go lucky fairy like personality all the time, he wasn't expecting this. You were smiling, but the weariness in your eyes was hard to miss. And your voice, which usually told light hearted tales, sounded worn down as if from tragedy. He was concerned, his eyebrows furrowed gently,

     "Hi. How are you?"

     "I'm good!" you exclaimed, trying your hardest to really sound "good."

But you were just tired. Tired and sad, and scared - scared of what the future had to hold. You were already dealing with school stress, and the text from your ex-boyfriend was like a bad omen, an anxiety-provoking assurance that things actually would not get better and they would in fact get progressively worse. You weren't even sure why you thought you should be talking to Steve if you were tired and just wanted to sleep off the weight of the week. It would be a weekend tomorrow, and one of your very rare days off.

Maybe you figured that you wanted to talk to him despite your fatigue, because conversation with Steve was a nice distraction. You had let yourself forget that this was still your job, and that you were too tired for anything sexual — you knew he liked talking to you, but you hadn't put into consideration the fact that he might request a sexual act from you. You would be burnt out if he did. The fact that you didn't think about that should've been telling, but your brain was too scattered to think straight.

Anyway, Steve called your bluff, and laughed quietly, his voice inquiring and pressing,

      "How are you really?"

That was all it took to get a deep sigh to come from out of you, all it took to allow yourself to show your true feelings, at least the surface of them, what you felt comfortable showing a customer. You felt a sense of relief and gratefulness for Steve, like he was letting you breathe. And if anything, he especially wasn't enlisted to listen to your problems. But he wanted to, and for that you felt foolishly grateful.

    Steve noted the deep sigh that came from out of you, and he frowned slightly. He could tell you had been holding this in for a while, and some part of him felt remorse for the fact that even though you clearly weren't in the right mindset, you went on and did your show anyway. He felt some guilt for being a part of the reason why you did your show.

    You answered, allowing your voice to be as honest as possible.

    "Honestly?" you chuckled a little, albeit bitterly. "I don't know if you really want to hear me rant to you."

Steve shook his head.

    "Don't be silly," he grinned. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to."

You felt a warm rush in your chest from the reassurance, and the corner of your lip quirked up in a small smile, before you decided to dive in. You'd spare the emotional details, spare your private life. But it would be nice to talk to someone, just about the general things, right?

    "Well, it's been a pretty stressful week, honestly. I mean, school's been the main source of my stress. My professor's such an asshole, he's basically been telling me my entire senior project, which I need to complete to graduate, needs to be redone? And I can't even fathom how I would have enough time to do that with like, two and a half months left of my senior year. I mean, he said I can keep most details, but I'd have to rework it, whatever that means."

    You kept your emotions at bay, sighing in annoyance just at the story you told, because it really was irritating you. But then you felt deeper things, even more went into why you really were upset.

    Steve nodded, just listening. He was prepared to offer advice, but in your situation, he thought that maybe just letting you rant would be best.

    "That's gotta be annoying," he shook his head understandingly. "Whatever your project is, I'm sure it's wonderful. He shouldn't be forcing you to rework it or make any last minute changes."

    "I know!" you nearly jumped up, feeling amped up now. "And it's just so fucking annoying because I work so hard and I'm really passionate about this project and it just feels like..."

    It felt like you were about to overflow, like a pot of water that had been left on for too long. You were ranting almost uncontrollably now, maybe because of the fact that it was more than this that was tugging at you. Because you'd been carrying the weight of your life on your shoulders all the time, like Atlas carrying the sky, and it felt like that weight was finally starting to mean something.

    Steve could see you were unraveling and he let you, he let you take the time you needed to feel everything you had been holding. If your connection was strong, it was at its strongest here. Sure, you and Steve chatted about a little bit of everything, even had deeper conversations here and there as the weeks went by. But you had yet to genuinely complain to him, because every time you spoke with him, you were happy go lucky Moonrose, with nothing to complain about to begin with. But now, you needed a release by any means, and you were just glad Steve was there for you, even if he wasn't really there. How unlike you to unfold in front of strangers.

   Your breath stuttered as you took in a deep breath in a failed attempt to calm down, only further driving yourself into your rambling. You felt yourself tear up, your voice becoming watery as you continued,

    "It just feels like all my work is turning to shit, and it's so fucking frustrating because I work so hard all the time, I do so much and I manage so much all the time."

     The "hard work" you were talking about wasn't just school and work-related, it pertained to your journey, and how hard you had worked to be a better person. To support yourself. The emotions pent up inside of you, they were more than just being upset over a school project. The idea of someone toxic trying to re-enter your life, someone who had forced you to rework the entirety of your life, made you feel like you were on the verge of crashing. You knew better, but you didn't want to return to those dark days, where the light at the end of the winding tunnel that was your relationship seemed so far away. It was why you were so weary of relationships today. It was crazy how one person could change your life so easily.

     Now you were crying, before you even noticed that you were crying. Tears just seemed to leak out of your eyes, sloshing wet and sudden against your cheeks and underneath your lashes. You wiped them away quickly with the back of your hand, frazzled at the fact that you were crying in front of a customer right now. Steve said he'd listen to you, he didn't say he'd watch you cry and be your therapist. You instantly regretted it, although you couldn't stop yourself, tears threatening to emerge again. If you were cracked before, you were spilling now.

    Steve was surprised too, at the fact that you were crying. You appeared so put together to him, it was almost something he didn't expect from you. He was in shock at first, so much so that professionalism was not on his mind - it was an afterthought. Right now, instead of wondering if this was appropriate, he was occupied with you.

    "I'm sorry," you murmured, but you still hadn't stopped, tears falling out as you blinked. Composure was nothing now, you were sobbing, your shoulders slumped and your head hung as you sniffled. Still you enforced control, wiping away every tear that fell with the back of your hand. "I'm really sorry, I don't mean to cry to you over this, that's so-"

Steve cut you off, shaking his head slowly,

    "It's okay to cry, doll. We all have those days. I know better than anyone that we all have those days."

    You mustered a smile, feeling cared for, feeling accounted for by someone who wasn't even obligated to have to see you like this. Still you shook your head, sniffling,

    "I know. But it's-it's stupid, I shouldn't be crying in front of you."

    "I'm not judging you," Steve said, so nonchalantly and firmly, so genuine that it almost scared you.

You blinked. He should've cared, and he should've judged you. To cry in front of Steve, a customer, was to imply he had some duty to comfort you when he probably just wanted a show. You knew that you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to, but even you had rules when it came to what your customers got to see, and to you, that meant they didn't have to deal with your blues.

     "Really?"

     "Really," he reassured you with a nod.

    Was Steve scared that by giving you this reassurance, this entire situation could become deeper than either of you could handle? Yes. But did he let himself shut down because of those pervasive thoughts that he might get himself into trouble? No. He didn't see you as a liability right now. Right now, even though the situation was certainly questionable (and this was something he had no doubt about. When emotions get into the mix, things could get tricky- he knew this), he saw you as someone who desperately needed someone to talk to. Maybe it wasn't smart of you to make him that someone, but regardless, he was, and who was Steve Rogers not to listen to a person in need?

    You blinked away the last of your tears and swallowed hard. You were making this choice consciously, to tell Steve what had really gotten you to your breaking point. And maybe telling him meant you had trust in him, maybe too much trust for someone who, while great, was still a customer. But you felt like there was nothing you could lose from telling him. Maybe you'd even feel better after the fact.

    You looked down, picking at the body glitter on your arm that you had applied before the show. Your voice was considerably quieter now perhaps because you were looking back on the moment with a clear mind for the first time since it happened. You hadn't been thinking straight ever since you received the text just hours ago. Now your brain was a little quieter with the help of your tears and Steve's reassurance.

       "I think that the stress of this school project is making me resent how hard I work for everything, just to be met with this kind of result, you know? And it's even worse when... things seem to be going backwards. You know, like when you make so much progress, moving on from things that don't serve you, and you've finally done it and you get to flourish in it and then, it just gets taken away from you. Maybe I'm being dramatic, but that's just how this feels."

     Steve nodded, his jaw ticking as he let your words settle in. Somehow, although your situation was so different from his, he felt like your words perfectly described how he felt with the world sometimes. It was even part of the reason he'd held off on talking to you like this, held off on getting too involved. He too had made so much progress in this world, which took so much getting adjusted to in a way that absolutely nobody else could relate to.

    It was a world that he didn't even know, a world that he had never been properly introduced to. He'd had to fend for himself. He did his healing on his own, just like you had. And yet sometimes it felt like he had no control, like the universe was going the opposite way of all his plans. Then he felt stupid for even having plans to begin with, because in life, making plans was like comedy for the gods.

    There was a weird feeling in his chest and stomach, like he'd been stabbed with a gutting realization, and the knife was just turning inside of him, churning his insides. He began to feel a sense of unease, because this deep conversation was beginning to feel incredibly personal. Even though you were talking about your own situation, he couldn't help but think about how much he resonated, and the fact that he felt like he could relate to you on such a deep level scared him. This was more than the conversations you'd had before, more than the simple similarities you and Steve shared. This felt like a conversation that might be too telling for his good and your own.

     He swallowed his words as he listened to you continue. You chose your words carefully, but you had shed yourself of your inhibitions when it came to being truthful.

     "Earlier... I heard from someone I hadn't heard from in a long time. And it kind of pushed me over the edge," out of your mouth stumbled a laugh. You were calmer now, and looked up at the camera, Steve swallowing hard when you did so. It was all so real, just like it was when you touched yourself and moaned Steve's name. "I think it just made me feel all those things I just explained. Because I feel like I worked so hard to rid myself of this person and them trying to come back just feels like all the things I worked so hard on are going to unravel. Even though I know they aren't, it feels like a setback. And that was like, the icing on the cake to this already terrible day, I guess."

      You let out a breathy laugh and smiled gently, shaking your head slowly.

     "I normally wouldn't be telling this to a customer. But here we are. Again, I'm sorry... I feel like I shouldn't have said anything? Should I... have said anything?"

In the brief silence that followed your question,  both you and Steve were thinking the same thing - were you going to regret this? Intimacy both physically and emotionally was good when you capped it at what you both knew to be appropriate. When it came to the physical aspects, you each let your fantasies unwind.

    And on the emotional aspect, though you had both grown closer and more open, some things just didn't get touched upon. But now you had just cried over the screen, and spoke from the depths of your heart. It was scary to open up in such an uncertain situation where your own privacy was an aspect that got involved. There was no doubt that it was too much. It was just a question of whether the result would be negative.

     Steve sighed deeply, a crease forming in his forehead as he furrowed his brows together, folding his arms over his chest.

     "I don't know..." he trailed off, took a breath, a leap, his body practically lurching forward. "But... it can't be a bad thing that you feel comfortable talking to me about this, can it?"

      And there it was, that glint of hope he was trying his hardest to conceal. That feeling he got when he got off that call with you, the one where you both started giving into those unspoken thoughts. That this couldn't be so bad, that you could enjoy each other's company without worrying.  

     You smiled gently,

    "I guess. It does feel weird though, it's not something I normally do. It feels like something I shouldn't be doing."

    You could hear Steve breathing in deeply, and for a moment, you imagined what he might look like, envisioning the outline of a troubled face, eyebrows knit together. You snapped back to reality and made a face, confused by your abrupt thoughts. You had long gotten over the very brief desire to see Steve's face- why was it coming back again?

    "I'll be honest, same here," Steve agreed with your sentiments.

    "Do you always feel like you have to restrain what you say when you talk to people? Or is it just with me?" you added that last part in a quiet voice, biting your lip.

Steve chuckled briefly,

      "Are you asking me if I have trust issues? Because I'd tell you, but I'd have to trust you to do that."

You shook your head and laughed at Steve's stupid joke, and shrugged.

     "I could say the same thing, I think. This person I heard from earlier is... I developed those trust issues because of them. Or, my already existent trust issues became worse. But what's funny about it is that this person was once someone that I loved," even as the words were coming out you questioned why you were letting them, why you were allowing yourself to be so truthful in a situation like this at a time when you were so vulnerable.

      Steve didn't reply, again feeling that sick feeling in his stomach that stemmed from his fear. The fear that this conversation were too serious, fear surrounding the fact that he was able to relate so much to such a personal situation of yours.

    You spoke again, daring to ask the question that felt like a final blow to Steve's stomach,

    "Have you ever been in love, Steve?"

Now Steve knew he was in uncharted territory. Not because he feared you might try to exploit him, but because he was so struck by the fact that he had allowed himself to feel so safe with you and get so close to you. He was surprised at himself for letting you feel safe enough to have these kinds of conversations with him. It all felt like a mistake now. He wanted a way out, any way out. He knew if he even attempted to answer that question, he would be making a big mistake. He had shared some of his most intimate moments with you, but always keeping in mind a very sharp line he didn't want to be crossed.

And in his mind, he thought of the one love he'd had, the one love that hadn't been fulfilled because of the situation he had been thrown into, one he had never signed up for. He thought of how the things he cared most for in life had been discarded, how, like you, he felt like it had gone to shit. How sometimes, though he tried his best to be grateful and had taken that journey of self-healing just like you, it all felt like some sick joke.

Could he even call it love? He wasn't sure. And he wasn't going to answer. He wasn't going to answer at all, because he wouldn't be talking to you again. There would be no chance for this dilemma to resurface, not with you, not on this site. He made the decision with haste and a heavy heart - he was done here.

      The discomfort was well evident in his voice, answering loud and clear, though his voice was morose and a bit closed off. You sensed the shift immediately.

     "I... I can't talk about that right now. Listen, I have to go."

    You felt a pang in your chest at the sudden switch in his demeanor, straightening up and trying not to frown. All this time you had been letting the words spill out, telling yourself not to worry so much, reassuring yourself it was okay to make your feelings known. Now it felt like you should've never said anything at all. You started to stammer.

      "Oh, I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, I was just... I feel like I got a little overwhelmed." You laughed nervously. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Steve felt his throat ran dry as he blinked, feeling emotions come up to surface that he wasn't quite familiar with. Maybe he was grieving in advance, regretting the decision he was making to no longer speak with you, regretting the fact that he was letting fear get in the way of what he wanted so badly to be a good thing.

    "No, I'm sorry. I feel like I let things go too far," Steve apologized, but the apology felt more like an insult.

Was he implying that whatever this was, you couldn't handle it, and that it was his fault for somehow leading you on? You had both made the connection with each other, it was an equal effort. And why was he acting like the two of you communicating at all was somehow below him, somehow a risk? If anything, you were the one risking it just by talking to him the way you did. You were opening up to him. 

     You almost felt betrayed - you had convinced yourself that he wouldn't want to listen to your problems and you told yourself it wasn't his responsibility to listen. And then he listened anyway, told you that he wanted to hear it, and you cried to him. You felt like you had made so many unusual accommodations just for him to scare off like this. He was just another person you had expressed your feelings to, only to regret it in the end.

    "Too far?" you questioned, furrowing your brows.

Steve swallowed. In your voice he could hear a hint of frustration, but even worse- hurt. It pained him more than he cared for you to know.

    "I don't think we should talk anymore," he said instead.

    "What?" you were taken by surprise. "Steve, I'm... I'm not understanding. I... I don't usually open up to people like this, I mean, I thought maybe it was fine here, because I feel like I know you. But you're still a stranger. I understand you're a customer but I thought we were talking, I thought we broke through that wall-"

    "We did. And we shouldn't have," Steve said, his voice so calm and firm that it was almost cold.

    By now you were just staring into the computer camera, as if you were looking at him and waiting for him to come to his senses. But as you did that, you slowly came to your own. Because you weren't looking at him. You were looking at a black screen with his voice behind it. You realized you hadn't known Steve, not enough to talk about these things. And just like him, you too were full of regret. You kept all those walls up for the sake of customer relations, only to put them down and be met with this disastrous result.

    Steve almost couldn't bare to look at your face anymore. You were confused, hurt. He could tell you regretted the fact that you had opened up. He was hurt too, but he wouldn't show it, or let it overcome him to the point where your methods of communication with each other became something neither of you could control. Still, yes, he was hurt.

    But he had been through plenty of hardships in life. What was one more, even if it shouldn't have come to this point anyway?

    "I'm sorry, Moonrose. We can't. Goodbye."

Chat over.

[jimimn]

HI ITS ME WHO'S NOT OVER JJK BLONDE SELFIE AND WILL NEVER BE -💫

HELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO <33333333

HONESTLY ITS THE WAY YOH SAY SUCH NICE THINGS AND I DISAPPEAR FOR DAYS ON END BECAUSE INCONSISTENCY BLEEDS INTO EVERY CORNER OF MY LIFE FNEKALKD BUT I'M GETTING DONE WITH MY FIRST LEG OF EXAMS ON MONDAY SO YAY TO THAT!! OKAY I THINK WE'LL MOVE SLOWLY WITH BABY STEPS JUNGKOOK DROPPED SOME SELCAS JIMIN DROPPED SOME SELCAS IN THE WORDS OF THE LEGENDARY JEON JUNGKOOK ALL WE NEED NOW IS "together..BAM!" (THAT'S LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE MOMENTS EVER THE WAY HE SAYS IT 🤧)

YES IN THIS HOUSE WE SCREAM OVER JIMIN'S DISRESPECT HE IS THE PARAGON OF A MULTI-FACETED MAN THAT HAS US WRAPPED AROUND HIS FINGER. THE AUDACITY 😤

CHANEL X JIMIN LETS MAKE IT HAPPEN AND OMG THAT SELFIE THAT DROPPED?? SIR???? WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?? I MEAN YES BH SAID LET'S DROP SELFIES IN BULK BUT THAT ONE PICTURE OF HIM IN BLACK(GREY? I DONT KNOW FHSKKAJF) WITH THE SHIRTS UNBUTTONED!!! THEM COLLARBONES ARE FREE AND THEY'RE THRIVING IN THE OPEN IN THAT ONE. ALSO HIS LIPS ARE SO PRETTY. OH GOD LITERALLY HE HAS THAT COCKY SMIRK ON HIS FACE WHEN HE KNOWS HE DOES HOT BOY SHIT LIKE SHUT UP OK YOU CANT DO THAT JAIL FOR U NDNSLSKAJJW

SUCH A FUCKING TEASE THATS RIGHT!! EVEN STRAIGHT MEN?? BRO LIKE HOW DO YOU HAVE ALL GENDERS JUST TRIPPING OVER THEMSELVES FOR YOU IT'S INSANE AND OMG MISS SHIVI HAVE YOU SEEN THAT ONE CLIP IN WHICH JIMIN HOLDS HIS GAZE WITH THESE MEN WHO LOOK AT HIM (i think it was bon voyage?) and when they cross each other he JUST SMIRKS AND RUNS HIS HAND THROUGH HIS HAIR LIKE YEAH OK ALEXA PLAY I'M SEXY AND I KNOW IT. AND YES I'LL LISTEN TO EVERYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY ANYTIME 💗💗

12PM KST IS THE HOLY HOUR I TELL YOU ALTHOUGH I REMEMBER WAITING THE NIGHT BEFORE BE CAME OUT WAITING FOR SOMETHING TO COME AND BH WAS JUST LIKE "yea...no" OMG THAT'S AWESOME YOUR COUSIN'S VISITING YOU

HHFJDOSO YEAH IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE THEY DID THE JUMP ALTHOUGHHHH I'M POSITIVE THEY'LL DO SMTH COOL LIKE THAT IN THEIR CONCERTS BECAUSE THEIR PERFORMANCE QUALITY IS JUST.. THROUGH THE ROOF IT'S CRAZY!! WHEN THE PERFORM WINGS?? LIKE HOLY SHIT NO CHOREO NO POSITIONS JUST BTS RUNNING AROUND THE STAGE MAKING THE CROWD GO FERAL I LOVE EVERY WINGS PERFORMANCE SO MUCH MY SEROTONIN LEVELS ARE ALWAYS AT A HIGH THEN. OOHH MY GODDD BS&T IS REALLY THAT BITCH!!!! WHO'S DOING IT LIKE HER TODAY NO ONE IS EXACTLY. AND NOOOO I TOTALLY GET IT WE THINK ON THE SAME WAVELENGTH THAT ACCIDENT HAS THE SAME EFFECT ON ME. IF ONLY YOU'D TOLD ME THEN IN 2016 THAT THAT ACCIDENT WAS THE START OF SO MANY I'D BE PREPARED FOR EVERYTHING THAT FOLLOWED (see: him basically stripping himself that one serendipity performance. holy shit.)

FOR REAL THO CHRISTMAS LOVE DROPPED OUT OF NOWHERE AND DO YOU REMEMBER JIMIN SAYINF uUH iM nOt wORkInG oN a SoLo SoNg aT ThE mOmEnT heHe LIKE ALL MEN DO IS LIE OK AT THIS POINT. BYE. YES TAEHYUNG DID WARN US BUT ARMYS (LIKE MYSELF) PUT THEIR CLOWN WIGS ON AND THOUGHT IT WAS KTH1 LMAO. OMG I HOPE YOU DON'T SLEEP THROUGH ANY OF THEIR UPCOMING SONG RELEASES BUT I'M SURE IT'S THE BEST FEELING TO WAKE UP TO CHECK YOUR NOTIFS AND SEE "Big Hit Labels" BECAUSE THAT'S HOW YOU KNOW IT'S GOING TO BE FIREEE. DUDE SERIOUSLY I NEED JIMIN TO GO LIVE AGAIN (although we've been well fed by namjoon for now🤧😌💗) LIKE THAT ONE YT LIVE WHERE HE SAID "O...M...G" SHUT UP STOP BEING SO CUTE I'M DHJSWLIFJWKALS

LMAO OKAY YEAH THAT'S VALID YOUR BLOG THEME IS BASICALLY ✨jimin✨ AND I LOVE THAT IT REALLY GRAVITATED ME AND YOUR URL OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD YOUR BRAINNN 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️

YES YES YES JIMIN IS SO PERFECT AND THE SOCK DOODLESSS 😭😭😭 oooo so when did you get into giffing? how did you start? BROOOOO YOUR URL'S ORIGIN STORY. I LOVE IT WOW YES IT'S DEFINITELY GOT THE REQUIRED ✨pazzaz✨

NOOO OMG THIS URL IS YOUR BRAND LIKE YOU'RE A LEGEND ON ARMYBLR I LOVE IT SO MUCH. BUT STILL!! IT'S YOUR CHOICE AT THE END 💖

OMG QUARANTINE DID IT'S ONE GOOD JOB AND GOT YOU INTO BANGTAN YAY. OMG YOU AND MISS LIFEGOESMON ARE FRIENDSS??? LEGENDS INTERACTING THIS IS SO COOL. LMAO THE PARADIGM SHIFT YOU MUST'VE FELT FROM LISTENING TO STAY GOLD (WHICH BTW THE MV...THE LITERAL CUTEST OH GOD THE LITTLE DOG AND JIMIN'S LITTLE SMILES DHSJAOWO) TO THEN GOING TO BST IN WHICH JIMIN IS BASICALLY STRIPPING AND JUNGKOOK IS UPSIDE DOWN LMAOOO. YES BS&T HAS EVERYONE HOOKED THE POWERRRR. YOU FALLING DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE WITH YOUR FRIEND'S ASSISTANCE OH GOD THIS IS SO CUTE 💓 EVERYTHING ABOUT THEM 🥺🥺🥺

AAAAH OKAY MY STORY ISN'T AS INTERESTING AS YOURS IS BUT IN 2016 BASICALLY ALL I KNEW OF KPOP WAS GANGNAM STYLE AND WASNT WILLING TO CUANGE THAT PERCEPTION (FOOL BEHAVIOUR I TELL YOU) AND WAS TOO BUSY OBSESSING OVER ONE DIRECTION'S REUNION AND SO ONE NIGHT (THE NIGHT BEFORE JIMIN'S BIRTHDAY 🤧🤧) I JUST STUMBLED UPON THEIR BS&T TEARS MV AND I HEARD IT AND I WAS LIKE OMG!! THIS IS THAT SUPER ADDICTIVE SONG THAT I'D HEARD SOMEWHERE AND IT JUST SPIRALLED FROM THERE I REMEMBER SEEING JIMIN AND BEING LIKE 👀👀👀👀 WHO IS HE I LIKE HIM AND JUST HIS AURA DREW ME IN SOOO MUCH AND WHEN I WAS GETTING INTO THEM I REMEMBER WRITING THEIR NAMES IN MY NOTES TO SEE IF I COULD REMEMBER 🤧 AND I STILL HAVE THAT NOTE FROM 4+ YEARS AGO 💓 AND YEAH BASICALLY SEEING THEM DO ALL THE MUSIC SHOWS AND STUFF AT THE TIME WAS SO COOOL AND MIND YOU BH DIDN'T HAVE SUBS FOR BANGTAN BOMBS THEN SO WENT ON THESE SKETCHY DAILYMOTION TYPE SITES LOOKING FOR ALL THE CONTENT I COULD CHURN OUT LMAO

AND YES!! COURTESY OF YOU I DID WATCH SOME RUN EPS!! I WATCHED THEIR CANADA ONES SPEAKING OF WHICH I LOOOVE THAT PART WHERE THEY'RE DOING THAT SONG GUESSING THING IN THE MORNING AND JIMIN SAYS "are you cold?" 🥺🥺 TO TAE AND HUGS HIM URRHRHEHSJSJSH AND I ALSO SAW THE ONES WITH THE PUPPIES GODDDDD I LOVE THE PUPPIES ONE SO MUCH LITERALLY JUNGKOOK AND HIS DOG (MIRI?) OH MY GOD THAT LIL FLUFFER AND ADAM IS MY ICON WITH HOW HE JUST DID HIS OWN THING LMAO.

BUT ANYWAY!! DO YOU HAVE A FAVE ERA?? LIKE DO YOU EVER LOOK AT THEM AND GO "Damn I wish I was a fan then" BECAUSE HONESTLY I WISH I HAD STANNED THEM IN THEIR DOPE ERA BUT I DON'T THINK I WOULD HAVE SURVIVED JIMIN THEN DHKSOWID-💫

FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME!!!!!!! ITS OKAY!!!!!!!! I TOTALLY TOTALLY UNDERSTAND!!!!! AND YAYYYYY CONGRATS I HOPE THE FIRST LEG OF EXAMS WENT WELL <333333 AND OH MY GOD you’re gonna make me cry with the together baam goddddddd same one of my fave moments and jimin’s giggles after that 😭😭😭😭 my babies <3 :((((

that..... black suit selca....... that opened button...... like open one more dear sir who’s stopping you... just do it <33333 YEAH he totally needs to shut up with his i know im hot side it just kills me every single time 😭😭😭😭😭

LISTEN THAT BV3 MOMENT  S H O O K  ME OKAY????? THOSE GUYS LOOKED AT HIM AND HE WAS SO FUCKING SMUG ABOUT IT (AND HE SHOULD BE) AND THE WAY HE LICKED HIS LIPS AND RAN HIS HANDS THROUGH HIS HAIR????? LIKE HE KNOWS HE HAS EVERY SINGLE PERSON; NO MATTER WHAT GENDER; WRAPPED AROUND HIS LIL PINKY LIKE THAT???????

OH MY GOD ME TOO I LOVEEEEEEEEEEE THE WINGS STAGE AND WATCHING THEM HAVE SO MUCH FUN IS JUST SO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND I ALSO ABSOLUTELY LOVVVEEE THEIR ENERGY DURING THE SY TOUR MEDLEY WITH IDOL AND BAEPSAE AND FIRE AND DOPE ZSXDFGFCHGVJBHJN THEY JUST LOSE THEMSELVES IN THE CROWD AND THE MUSIC AND ITS JUST SO FUCKING SURREAL TO WATCH HOW MUCH THEY ENJOY DOING WHAT THEY DO!!!!! kinda makes me want to find that happiness and passion in whatever i do in my professional life <3 and LISTEN jimin said the break the soul commentary THAT HE COULD DO SERENDIPITY SHIRTLESS TOO. THE AUDACITY. HE SAID THAT WITH HIS WHOLE CHEST. 

YOU KNWO WHAT I THINK JIMIN WON’T GIVE US A HINT BEFORE DROPPING PJM1. HE’LL JUST DROP IT ONE FINE DAY OUT OF NOWHERE LIKE HE DROPPED PROMISE AND CHRISTMAS LOVE (i wasn’t here when he dropped promise but i read that on twitter sdfghjkl) AND NO PLS NO I DO N O T WANT TO SLEEP THROUGH JJK1 OR KTH1 OR PJM1 OR KSJ1 OR NAMGI MIXTAPE 3 OR HOBI MIXTAPE 2 OR ANYTHING BASICALLY YOU GET IT i had slept through dynamite cb because i had NO CLUE that they were gonna drop it at 1pm kst rather than 12 am kst. i was under the impression that since they dropped all the teaser pictures and the teaser itself as 12 am kst, the mv will drop at 12 am kst too. and I woke up like two hours after the mv dropped (which was almost noon my time) and i felt like A FUCKING FOOL AND I JUST 😭😭😭😭 NEVER WANT TO FEEL LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN 😭😭😭 

AND YES BABIE NEEDS TO COME LIVE SOON PLS I MISS HIM SO FUCKING MUCH :((((( AND HIS O...M.....G HAD MADE ME FUCKING SOBBBBBBBBBBB his yt live god he looked sooooooo fluffy with his hair and his tiny hands and his puppy eyes and soft voice im just so 😭😭😭😭😭😭

NO NONNONONONO PLEASE IM NO LEGEND DON’T SAY THAT IM EMBARRASSED im just a normal fangirl who makes okayish gifs 😭😭 and ok yes so i started giffing LONNNGGGGGG time back on a different public fan forum from my country but i never knew the right process and stuff so obviously the gifs were shitty lmao BUT ANYWAY i got into gifmaking PROPERLY this in july last year and obviously struggled a lot in the beginning because i didn’t know shit about colouring and stuff lmao but i kept practicing and even though im not perfect rn i do think that i got better. i love giffing tho. its such a nice creative outlet and whenever i gif the boys it brings me so much happiness :( <33

AND YES ASDFGHJKL ME AND HER ARE FRIENDS SINCE A VERY LONG TIME SDFGHJK LIKE LONG BEFORE BOTH OF US GOT INTO BTS SDFGHJ and ah yes the whiplash lmaooooooo and you’re right god the stay gold mv is SO FUCKING PRETTY THE COLOURS IN THAT ENTIRE MV HELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AND JIMIN AND TAE AND JOON WITH THE DOGGO JUST EVERYTHING SDFGHJK <3333333 AND BS&T DUDE I GIFFED THE MV YESTERDAY AND IM 💀💀💀💀💀 (like i just giffed jimin from the mv but i did watch the whole thing 5647589 times <333333) AND GUESS WHAT!!!!!! I WAS A LILLY SINGH FAN (IDK IF YOU KNOW HER SHE’S A YOUTUBER) BACK IN 2016 AND PEOPLE BACK THEN HAD REQUESTED HER TO REACT TO BS&T MV AND I HAD WATCHED HER REACTION VIDEO AND (although it didn’t stick with me back then because i was a fucking fool) I DID SOMEHOW REMEMBERED THE JIN AND STATUE KISSING MOMENT AND WHEN IN 2020 I SAW THE MV AND SAW THE KISSING MOMENT MY BRAIN JUST!!!!!!!!!!! I WAS LIKE HOLY SHIT I HAVE SEEN THIS BEFORE SOMEWHERE AND THEN I REMEMBERED I HAD SEEN THIS IN THE REACTION VIDEO LMAOOOOO i wish i hadn’t been a fool and gotten into them back then :((((

AH NO OMG YOUR STORY IS SOOOOOOO CUTEEEEEEEEEE ATLEAST YOU WEREN’T A FOOL LIKE ME TO NOT GET ATTRACTED TO BS&T THE FIRST TIME OF SEEING IT!!!! I WANNA HIT MY 2016 SELF LIKE DAMN YOU YOU FOOLISH ASSHOLE AND yes omg how did y’all do the subs thing damnnnnn i can’t imagine

AND YES THE CANADA RUN EPIS ARE LOOOVVVEEEE and that vmin moment plsssssss i cry everytime 😭😭😭😭😭 it is just so soft and innocent and tae’s little smile after jimin just turns around and hugs him 😔😔😔😔 i love soulmates 😔😔😔😔 AND MIRI YES OMG EVERYONE WAS SO IMPRESSED BY THE LITTLE CUTIE AND THE WAY JUNGKOOK JUST KEPT ADORING HER THROUGHOUT MADE ME SO SO SOFTTTT and bro adam is me. i am like that. lazy and un-motivated AF. although if i were a dog and jin were to be my owner i would listen to him so well and jump on him every chance i’d get 😌😌😌

GOD YES RED HAIR DOPE ERA JIMIN 💀 BABIE BUT MAKE IT SEXY 🥵🥵 AND OMG YESDGFHG MY FAVE ERA IS HYYH. ORANGE HAIRED JIMIN. PLS. HE’S EVERYTHING. I WISH I HAD GOTTEN INTO THEM DURING THAT. LIKE THAT ERA IS ..... SOMEHOW SO FUCKING WILD AND STILL SO ASSURING AND CALMING ????? KEEPS ME ROOTED LIKE IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN DFGHJKL AND WINGS TOO DAMN I WISH I WAS HERE TO LIVE ALL THOSE AMAZING ERAS. but even though i wish i had gotten into them earlier... i think i found them when i needed them the most. I was going through a very difficult time last year and they somehow they made me feel so fucking safe and at home that the connection was instant. honestly i’ve never stanned or felt a connection with any celebrity as strong as the one i feel with bangtan. its like... they don’t know i exist but they still know EXACTLY what im feeling and what to say or do at that time to make me feel comforted. Its weird god but its true :((( SORRY I GOT EMO I JUST LOVE THEM A LOT SDFGHJKL

[xfanfics]

Destiel Fic Rec List Part 1

Last Updated in October 2014. Posted in May 2020 for posterity. Listed in no particular order - the total rec list will have ~250 fics. Header graphic used with permission.

This part of the list contains: 48 fics.

Other Destiel Rec Lists: [1]. [2]. [3]. [4]. [5]. [6]. [7].

For Science! by pm_lo E | 21k | ABO, Omega!cas, Alpha!Dean,

Selected transcripts and supporting materials from Dr. Castiel Williams and Dean Winchester’s seminal study on physiological and psychological sexual response by gender designation.

Even though this is a dialogue/email text only story, I still very much enjoyed it and found it ridiculously hot. Maybe I'm just easy. (No I'm not. This fic is good, read it.)

Forget-Me-Not Blues by noangelsinthegarrison E | 68k | Firefighter!Dean, Professor!Cas, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining

Sam and Jess are getting married and Dean couldn’t be any happier for them. Honestly, they’re kind of disgustingly perfect for each other and Dean’s pretty damn excited about staying with them the week before the wedding. He’s Sam’s best man, of course, and he doesn’t even mind that Jess has her own best man to share in all the organizational duties. The more the merrier, right? Except Dean must have done something to epically piss off the universe because Jess’s best man just happens to be Castiel friggin’ Novak. He’s got even hotter since High School, but apparently no friendlier and if Cas wants to spend the week pretending like they’ve never met before? Fine. Two can play at that game.

THIS WAS SO GOOD I'M TEARING UP. tropes abound and I love it!

Cops and Robbers by kinkstiel E | 53k [WIP] | Detective!Dean, Criminal!Cas, Top!Cas, Bottom!dean

They locked eyes for a minute and then Cas leaned back as far as the cuffs would let him go, spreading his legs obscenely wide. “I want you to suck my cock, Dean.” Dean balked, mouth going dry in a second, eyes slipping to the now visible bulge in Castiel’s suit pants. “Um,” he said stupidly, face flushing red, eyes unable to pull away. Cas hummed. “Depending on how well you suck me, I might just tell you everything you want to know.” He licked his lips, smirking slightly when he caught Dean’s gaze. “And with sinful little lips like yours,” he made a low whistling sound, “I don’t doubt you’ll get every last name out of me.

So very good. Love the dark and dirtiness of it. It does get lighter and sappier towards the end tho.

Cursed or Not ❤ by Ltleflrt E | 115k | witch!Cas, shapeshifter!Dean, switching

While experimenting with magic when he was a kid, Sam accidentally cursed Dean. Now, Dean is forced to wear a spelled amulet constantly, or he'll turn into a random animal. For a little over a decade, he's learned to live with the curse, and has even found it useful in some cases, but he sure would be happier without it. When he meets a witch named Castiel, he's offered a deal. Instead of assuming all witches are bad, Dean can spend a season getting to know him. If at the end of the season, Dean still thinks he's evil Castiel will send him away with his memory wiped of the whole experience. But if he learns that Castiel is not the monster Dean assumes he is, he'll lift Dean's curse. It's an offer Dean can't bring himself to pass up.

Literally perfect. Enthralling world, magical relationship.    

Surprise Package by wannaliveindeansdimples E | 3k | Hot, , Dom Cas, Sub Dean, Light BDSM

When Cas' roommate Meg has to go out of town suddenly, she leaves him an unexpected gift.

So so hot. Non extreme Dom!cas and sub!dean.    

Never Have I ever by sweetdean M | 78k | Fluff,  High School AU, top!cas, bottom!dean

When Jo drags Dean along to a game of "never have I ever" with her friends, he finds himself getting caught up in a lot more than just a game. “Never have I ever hung out with such an asshole,” Dean countered, positively shocked at his own sass. Cas smirked again. “Oh, are we hanging out now?fricken adorable  

Road Signs by gemmiel E | 9k| Canon!verse, true form

Dean is curious about how angels have sex. Castiel shows him.

Damn. True form, soul sex, and regular sex. Yes please.    

It's Brilliant, Really by snarkymonkey E | 15k | Fluff,  AU, Professor!cas, Stuntman!dean

Castiel Novak is a History adjunct at Stanford University. He's also the most patient younger brother. When his older brother, Gabriel, decides to start *wooing* one of his younger waiters, Castiel reluctantly agrees to double-date with the intended paramour's older brother. What he didn't expect, however, was how much his own life would flip over such a careless decision.

Adorable. Hot, and adorable.  

Gabriel's Unfortunate Mistake by JackHawksmoor E | 8k | Hot,  AU

an answer to a prompt: Gabriel decides to hire a prostitute for his virgin brother Castiel as a joke, but instead accidentally hires Dean, a professional Dom. The moment Dean first lays a hand on him, Castiel knows he is lost. Dean/Castiel AU.

Um mm.... Damn. That was hot. Newbie sub!cas and pro dom!dean    

Well-Beloved Unto Me by  Moorishflower E | 3k | Alt!Canon, tentacles

The Winchesters don't get rewarded for all the shit they go through, so Dean is understandably wary when a few recharged and promoted angels offer him and Sam the vacation of a lifetime. Title comes from the Song of Solomon.

True form. And sex. MY FAVE.  

How to Date an Angel in 12 Easy Steps by Fourthduckling E | 23k | Fluff,  Alt!canon

It's not that hard to date an angel. All Dean has to do is fight off hordes of vampires, research gay porn, get sucked into a crappy Narnia, endure Sam's comments, creep out on Dr. Sexy, get harassed -- oh, and that's right-- figure out he's into Cas. Easy, right?

SQUUEEEE. Perfect and cute and cuddly.  

Two Wrongs Don't Make A Right But Three Rights Make A Left by the0voice0from0above E | 45k | High School AU, Dancer!Cas, Welder!Dean,

The beautiful Garrison Ballet School becomes home to a reckless bunch of misfits after the Colt Welding Academy is severely damaged in a fire and has to close for repairs. Needless to say, Castiel and his friends clash with their unwanted guests but there's one boy in particular who infuriates him.

Dancer!au. Love it love it love it!    

Rest My Angel by cobalt_wings E | 86k | Fluff,  Season 9 AU

Angels are falling from the sky, and Dean is losing it. Sam is dying in his arms, and one of those burning, twisting figures blazing through the night air might be his very own angel, Castiel. What can he do to help those he loves?

Sex and domestic and lots of fucking. My fave.    

One Species Too Many by wallmakerrelict E | 21k | Fluff,  Alt!canon

While Dean is laid up for a month after breaking his leg on a hunt, Cas decides that it's a perfect time to adopt a litter of kittens. But even though he's gotten better since Purgatory, Cas still isn't quite the same as he was before fixing Sam's head, and being trapped in a cabin with him for weeks on end is making that all the more obvious to Dean. When Sam takes off on a hunt, Dean has to figure out on his own how to navigate his new relationship with Cas while also helping to raise a bunch of fuzzballs that aren't even cute. Not even a little bit. (Well, maybe a little bit.)

Team free will with kittens!! So fluffy and domestic but also a touch of angst.    

It's A Bet by vitamindesi E | 34k | College AU, top!cas, bottom!dean

Destiel College!AU in which freshman Dean is dared by his best friends to hit on senior Castiel at a party. He wants to say no but then someone starts a bet and Benny bets a sum that is ridiculously high for a student and Dean can’t disappoint Benny, right? I deviated only, but hopefully it suffices.

So fabulous and smutty I want to cry. Literally perfection.

Your Call Cannot Be Completed As Dialed by eBob, K_K_TiBal T | 66k [WIP] | Fluff,  College AU

AU in which Castiel accidentally sends a text message to the wrong number and befriends the person at the other end of the line. However, accidents don’t just happen accidentally, and sometimes two completely different people are exactly what the other needs.

LITERALLY THE BEST. So many feelings. I WANT IT TO BE COMPLETE SO MUCH. Abandoned WIP.    

Equinox by luchia E  | 12k | Alt!canon, time travel

In which Castiel is the weird time-traveling freak who just might be the love of Dean Winchester's life.

Confusing but perfect time travel fic.   

If I run by betty days E | 4k | Hot,  AU, sexting, long distance relationship

"Dean Winchester is a red-blooded American male. He lifts all the things. He aims for functional strength. He counts his macros and makes fun of curlbros. He is not a member of the Tarahumara tribe and he will not read Born to Run, no matter how many times Sam tells him to, because Starting Strength is the only book Dean will ever fucking need." Wherein a friendly competition with the mysterious ThursdaysAngel turns into a sexy selfie-trading spree that motivates Dean Winchester to train for his first marathon.

Soo. Hot. Makes me want to actually exercise?    

The Little Things by Alreadypainfullygone T | 2k | Angst,  Cancer, Major Character Death

Au based on 'the big C' in which Dean gets very sick, and deals with it the denial way. Meeting a homeless man on the way. Dean/Castiel Angst. Warning for trigger - Cancer. sorry if you think I dealt with it badly.

This is only 2.8k words, and yet it managed to make me cry.    

Do What Feels Good by  Catchclaw, cymbalism E | 12k | Hot,  Alt!canon, PWP

Castiel learns to love alone time in the shower. And then he learns to share.

Fuuuuuck that was hot. Castubation and shower sex is just so hnnnggg.    

All That Is And Used To Be by MisaChan E | 26k | Alt!Canon, wing!Kink

Dean never even knew anyone was living in the old estate outside of town until its mysterious occupant contracts his shop for a very specific job: a custom piano bench with grooves cut into the back. He finds Castiel and his terms to be eccentric with a capital E but the money is too good to turn down and anyway, Dean can't help indulging his curiosity about the guy and his secretive, isolated life. There are secrets that will not stay hidden and stories that refuse to be forgotten. Especially when they happen to involve Dean Winchester and the angel Castiel.

Ugh, I love this story. Concept, execution, and characterization are all perfect.    

Do I Have Something Like That? by MysticMoonhigh E | 2k | Hot,  horn!kink, wing!kink

based on the tumblr post I made: Does anybody know any demon!Dean fics where Cas makes Dean climax by basically giving his demon horns a hand job because I want this so badly out of lifE | I'm. I've read this about three times and I think I'm finally coming to terms with my alien biology kink. Hot. Wink!kink and horn!kink. Yes.    

The Doctor Will See You Now by  PetrichorPerfume E | 7k| Hot,  PWP sub!dean, gentle dom!cas, wing!kink

Dean has a medical kink. Castiel is more than happy to oblige. Starring Castiel as the slightly unorthodox Dr. Novak who enjoys prescribing enforced chastity and daily tease and denial sessions, and Dean as his needy, submissive patient who will do anything for a chance to come.

Wowowwowowow. Um. This was super hot. Nnnghhhh.    

Into Your Hideaway by thepinupchemist E  | 176k |Angst,  a/b/o, omega!dean, alpha!cas, mpreg

Driving down a deserted road in the Rocky Mountains, Castiel finds something unexpected: An omega. Not only an omega, but a naked, injured, pregnant omega. Dean doesn't talk much at first, but that doesn't change the brightness of his soul. It also doesn't stop Castiel from falling in love with him.

I just... Wow. This was an amazing story. Beware that it is possibly very triggering, because of rape, assault, violence, and general bigotry. But perhaps because of all of that, you get a story that is almost painful in its reality, and it is all the more loveable for that.    

The World Crashing All Around by thepinupchemist E | 36k| Alt!canon, best friends wing!Kink, kid!fic

During a storm in September of 1987, Dean and Sam hear something hit their roof. When they brave the backyard to investigate, they find a fledgling angel. A story about best friendship, spoiled plans, and love, in four parts.

OH MY GOD. This was perfect all the way through. From soul bonds, to slow burn, to growing up together as best friends, it's all my favorite. And it even has wing kink, which is literally the best.    

Share Your Burden by aTimeOfMagic E | 3k Hot,  PWP, Sub!dean, dom!cas

Set at the end of 'Are You There God? It's Me Dean Winchester.' 4.02. Castiel shows Dean that he deserves respect, and Dean comes to see that Cas is not, in fact, just a 'hammer'. He also learns that his 'people skills' are definitely not entirely 'rusty'.

Damn. Um, really hot. Also, unexpectedly sweet.    

Flawless by Vaerin E | 69k | a/b/o, accidental bonding, sub!dean, dom!cas

A contract is out on the Winchesters, a large sum of money the reward for throwing them off their game. A witch in the town they happen to be passing through decides to collect. She sets her sights on Dean, trying to seduce him into leaving his job to stay with her. When she can't even convince him to warm her bed, she decides to turn her job into his punishment. Knowing he fears commitment and can't stand the thought of being with a man, she works a spell between him and Castiel... the one friend he can call a safe haven. When they end up mated the next morning, not only does the Winchester family business suffer... but so does Dean's friendship with Castiel.

Cute long soul bond fic. Contains sabriel.    

Chasing Normal by Donovanspen M | 16k | Fluff,  First time, Cuddling & Snuggling

Dean reevaluates his definition of an 'apple pie life' and what that means for him, personally.

This is the definition of domestic fluff and smut. There's a wee bit of angst because hey, it's set in the canon verse. But so worth it.    

Hold On by somuchforbaggles E | 92k | Fluff,  Angst,   mental illness

Castiel is sure that nothing in his life will ever change. Everything that happens to him is predictable, from the stability of his job to the unrelenting sporadic anxiety attacks, he can rely on his life to stay the same forever - until he saves Dean Winchester from the path of an oncoming train. From then on, everything changes for both of them, and the only way they can deal with it is together.

Woww. This was an amazing ride. Angsty and fluffy, then angsty again, then back to fluffy. So good.    

I said to myself again by avyssoseleison E | 2k | Fluff,  Praise!kink, Self-esteem issues

Dean finally lets himself be appreciated and cared for by his angel.

Praise kink is my ultimate weakness    

The One Thing You Can't Lose by MajorEnglishEsquire T | 4k | Fluff,  Cuddling & Snuggling

You know what I like a lot? The thought that Dean can just tug Cas anywhere at any time and Cas, who can lift tons without effort, who can demolish things with the light of his grace, who has battled and gone to war, has defended and broken, will just let Dean do it.

fluffy love    

Spit Slick by VeraBAdler M | 1k | Fluff, , First Time

[no description]

A super cute fluffy little oneshot :3 (tags say 'happy sex' and 'sexy cuddling' if you need more to go on)  

Late Bloomer by somuchforbaggles T | 7k | Alt!Canon, Wing!kink, Wingfic, Soulmates

On every child’s seventh birthday, a celebration is held to mark the beginning of their journey as a fledgling - a sprouting ceremony. It doesn’t matter if the child hasn't shown the symptoms of emerging wings yet, for it is scientific fact that every child grows wings in their seventh year, sometimes even earlier. Castiel is not every child.

A coming of age wing fic. With mates. Basically, I'm in love.    

Sleight of Hand by aileenrose M | 64k | Angst,  Human AU, psychic cas, journalist dean

Dean Winchester has interviewed them all--mob bosses, serial killers, crooked politicians. Next he plans to unveil the con-man who markets himself as Castiel, a reclusive and secretive "healer" who claims to heal the sick in return for thousands of dollars. Dean's expecting a challenge, but he never expected Castiel to be so clueless or sweet...or that he might be telling the truth.

I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS AU. The one where Dean is a skeptical journalist/professional idiot and Cas is a socially inept healer and mind reader. There's lots of angst, but the payoff is so worth it.    

Leaning In by Anonymous T | 15k | Hospital AU

Castiel never changed out his scrubs, Dean had a way of getting himself injured and Sam seemed to think it was a good pairing

Even though I have no idea who actually wrote this story, it's worth a read. I'm always up for a good medical AU.    

Someone I Forgot to Be by  MatildaMavis E | 36k Fluff,  Angst,  Human AU

Castiel is content - sort of - with his quiet life in Boston...at least, until his new neighbor moves in. It's Dean Winchester, the cliched long lost love of his life. Can these two idiots find their way back to each other after eight years, after fame and loss and heartbreak? After Dean has found love again with Cas' neighbor, Lisa? Fate can be a sadistic bitch, they've both learned that, but maybe they've matured enough to be able to handle it this time. The sparks, the attraction, the tension...or maybe not.

I thought this would be extremely painful, and it sort of was. But it was so worth it.    

Didn't Get That Particular Memo by Snarkymonkey E | 5k

Dean has worked with his best friend for years and maybe it's a bit more than that for him but not for Castiel, right? Right. And really, he'd feel so much better if Castiel would just get a companion already. Because it's not like Castiel actually wants him, right? Right.

Damn, that was fucking hot.  

Cas, You Had A Baby? by allthebeautifulthings9828 M | 132k | Fluff,  Alt!Canon, Kid Fic, Slow Build

At some point in every angel's life, raising a fledgling is required. Castiel's turn comes rather unexpectedly when his superiors hand off a newly created infant angel to him and leave him to raise it with all of Heaven's principles of blind obedience. He's not sure what to do, so he tucks the fledgling in his coat and goes straight to Dean and Sam Winchester. Together, Dean and Castiel hatch a plan to raise the fledgling away from Heaven's control. And soon, the angel Hael arrives with news that, after Castiel disappeared, she and four other angels ran from Heaven's oppression with their fledglings. Castiel finds himself the unwitting ringleader of angels choosing to raise their fledglings with the principles of free will. Is angelic parenthood too much for his deepening relationship with Dean? Who can they really trust? (Disclaimer: This story depicts fledglings consuming honey for the nourishment of their undeveloped graces. Human babies cannot consume honey, so please do not feed it to your infants. This is fiction.)

Oh. My. God. I admit that I was skeptical at the beginning about this story, but let me tell you, it sucked me in. Sometimes, you run across a story that has wonderful OCs that you get attached to. This is one of those. And of course, the baby is adorable.    

Healing by Jacqueline Albright-Beckett M | 2k | Fluff,  Canon!verse, PWP

Castiel can heal more than just physical wounds.

Sensual and romantic.    

Better Late Than Never by whelvenwings G | 23k | Fluff,  Alt!canon, friends to lovers,

When Dean first sees Castiel, he's clinging on for dear life - and things never really get any easier. In fact, they get a lot harder; Dean's worst enemy isn't always the monkey bars. Bound together year on year by the ritual pact of being a Guardian Angel, Dean and Cas grow close, showing loyalty and bravery in the face of danger. But will they ever find the courage to admit their true feelings for each other - and will it be too late by the time they do?

i LOVE best friends to lovers fics! and this delivers on that perfectly.    

Like A Candle In The Window On A Cold Dark Winter's Night by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel T | 6k | Fluff,  Canon!verse, asexual Cas

In which Castiel saves Dean, Dean saves Castiel, there is beer and TV watching, and if it weren't for the monsters and assassination attempts, life would be almost perfect.

A cute little fic I've read multiple times :)    

How many slams in an old screen door? by dandelioness T | 15k | Fluff,  Theatre AU, Asexual Cas

In which Castiel is a theatre major terrible at first impressions; Dean is a set designer who likes Cas anyway; and the most chaotic production of Les Miserables in history somehow manages to go off without a hitch. Or, just as you should never give a moose a muffin (because he'll want some jam to go with it), you should never give a blank check to a university theatre department.

This is perfect. I can't speak for the accuracy of the information and feelings given about asexuals/asexuality, but I enjoyed this fic nonetheless.    

Breath of Heaven by solacesnake18 E | 9k

When Dean is wounded and dying in Purgatory, Castiel returns from his self-imposed exile to help him.

Wow. True!form cas and metaphysical sex that somehow manages to be poetic, emotional, and erotic all at once. I approve.    

The Mirror by CloudyJenn M | 24k | Canon!Verse,

When Dean touches a strange mirror, he's whisked away to one alternate reality after another and it doesn't take him long to realize the universe is trying to tell him something.

One of my favorite fics, and a fandom classic. So beautiful. It's a trip, but you'll love it. The ending makes me really emotional.    

Rock 'n' Roll Queer Bar by chasingrabbits E | 121k | Fluff,  Human AU

Ellen and Jo Harvelle run Harvelle's Roadhouse, a bar that unintentionally becomes a beacon for wayward queer souls. Her employees: Dean, the smartass runaway with a big heart and bigger mouth; Castiel, the college drop-out turned hippie; his (surprisingly heterosexual) trouble-making brother Gabriel; and Charlie, who has been told several times that the back room is not to be used for after-hours Dungeons & Dragons games. But there's a lot of love in this place, and a new family for anyone who may otherwise be without.

Sweet little (well, not so little really) universe. Link is to the series.    

A Million Ways to Go by chasingrabbits E | 91k | High School AU,

Castiel Novak is a preacher's son living in a world of black and white. Pragmatic and dutiful, he doesn't understand why anybody would want to make waves. Then the Winchesters move in down the street. Soon many of the skeletons in the Novak family's closet are exposed, and as the family faces them, Castiel begins to understand that there are many ways to see the world and so many more ways to live than what he's been told.

Wow, this was a ride. Set in an alternate!canon where Cas is a repressed preacher's kid and dean still grows up a hunter. Also, lots of Sam and Gabriel brother!feels. Not sabriel.

Like That Foreigner Song... by DevilMadeMeDoIt E | 5k | Hot,  Alt!Canon, Deancest, Time trave

Dean and Cas have been together for a while now, but Dean always regrets that he has been with so many people in the past. He wishes he could go back in time and tell his 15 year old self that there is someone worth waiting for. Cas gives him the chance and the outcome is one that neither of them expected.

Oh god, this was a perfect little story. So much love.    

TutorMate by faeryn M | 21k | College AU

Sam leaves Dean's laptop logged in to some app called "TutorMate" and Dean meets his brother's tutor. Cas helps him with his own work and they strike up a friendship. Before long Dean finds himself growing attached to the cute, clever Cas and flirtatiously suggests they go on a date if he applies himself to his college work. Cas agrees, but Dean discovers his online friend is not quite what he expected. (Or, in which Dean thinks he's met a cute girl and finds out he's actually met a cute boy.)

Wowowwowowow adorable. Perfect little college AU.    

More recs coming soon.

[paycies]

hello  pretty  peeps  !  i’m  already  so  happy  n  excited  2  be  here  tysm  for  the  warm  welcome 🥺🥰my  name’s  dani  ,  i’m  20  &  i  reside  in  torONTO /  the  6ix  /  best  city  in  da  world  ,  which  puts  me  in  the  est  tz  !  i’m  obsessed  w  machine  gun  kelly  n  that’s  really  all  you  need  to  know  about  me  SJFDSFS .  but  i’m  super  excited  2  be  bringing  my  babyg  paycie  ,  she’s  a  wild card  but  also  a  lil  sunflower  &  all  the  more  info  about  her  is  under  the  cut  +  some  wanted  connections  !  like  this  &  i’ll  slide  in  those  dms  to  plot  bc  i  wanna  plot  w  every  single  one  of  u or  you  can  also  msg  me  on  discord  @𝒎𝒈𝒌'𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 .#1958  !!  ♡ ♡ ♡

» • * — ( madison beer , cisfemale , she/her ) . i think i hear righteous by juice wrld coming from apartment 2308. doesn’t paycie miller live there ?? i heard they are a twenty one year old student/model from manhattan ,  nyc , but they’ve been living in the apartments for three years . they come across a bit - reticent and - stubborn , but they also seem like they could be + quixotic and + adroit . whenever i see them , i think of hoop  earrings , graphic  tees  &  red roses . oh , and don’t forget to follow them on instagram at @payciem !  

*  𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑠  .

full  name  :  paycie  anne  miller .

age  :  twenty  -  one .

astrological  chart  :  libra  sun  ,  aquarius  moon  ,  leo  rising .

hometown  :  manhattan  ,  new  york  .

sexual  orientation  :  pansexual .

character  inspo  :  lexie  grey  (  grey’s  anatomy  )  ,  brooke  davis  (  one  tree  hill  )  ,  moe  (  lemonade  mouth  )  ,  mariana  adams  foster  (  the  fosters  )  .

*  𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦  &  𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡  (  death  tw  ) .

ok here we go

paycie was born an only child to the most loving parents

born and raised here in manhattan

her mom was an aspiring model when she met paycie’s rockstar father

they got married only after knowing eachother for a few months , but they were so deeply in love it didn’t even matter

they had paycie about a year after being married

and they couldn’t have been happier to have a lil girl!!

her mom and her were two peas in a pod growing up , her dad would always find them playing dress up together ,  doing  eachother’s makeup , etc

they acted much more like best friends than like a mom/daughter , but there was never a problem w it

paycie was a very well behaved child , always having a soft demeanour even from the very beginning

so ya growing up was great for her , her dad’s career was at it’s peak , her mom stayed home to take care of paycie , so she always had her mom around , she ended up in private school that she enjoyed , made lots of friends & couldn’t have wished for anything in life

( death & car accident tw ) fast forward , paycie’s now 17 , while her dad’s away on tour  ,  her mom dies suddenly in a car accident . this was by far the worst day of paycie’s life , she never in a million  years  imagined that her mom would be taken from her , and with absolutely no warning

her best friend in the whole world was gone and she had no idea how to move on from that

obviously her dad’s tour was cancelled & the tabloids went crazy with the story

the two of them struggled to get any privacy  , paparazzi always waiting outside their house , etc sstuff like that

it was horrible n they hated it

but paycie quickly fell into a depression, stopped going to school , BARELY made it through her senior year but by some miracle she did end up graduating ( she didn’t attend however )

( anxiety tw ) she had to go on medication for depression & anxiety during this time as well , as she was struggling w panic attacks and such and still does sometimes to this day

her dad’s career diminished because he too was lost without her to work , & he wanted to stay home 24/7 to take care of paycie

it took a long time for the two of them to be able to figure out how to continue living life , but they did it together & as a united front

paycie and her father’s relationship continued to grow much stronger after her mom’s death , obviously both of them needing eachother to lean on

fast forward abt a year or two paycie decides she wants to go to college to study fashion , something her mom always loved & got paycie interested in

she’s taking a few music courses as well 

so now she’s here living in her lil apartment that she adores and trying to live a simple life .

she really hadn’t been interested in being in the spotlight like her dad was , although her instagram following is what allowed her to gain modelling gigs after she turned 18 , being able to book a few big ones , to get money to help pay her tuition and other expenses 

she enjoys it a lot but at the same time lowkey hates the idea of being famous , after how the media had such a big affect on her w her mother’s death

so she’s conflicted and tries to focus on school most of the time

*  𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦  &  ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠  . 

paycie is a very kind and gentle soul

she’s quiet and tends to keep her thoughts to herself , when she’s around people she doesn’t know well

don’t get me wrong she can converse very well , but when it comes to meaningful conversations , you’ll only get that out of her if she completely trusts you

ummm she wears her heart on her sleeve tho and dreams of an epic love like her parents had although she gets scared of being hurt the way her dad was

which stops her from forming attachments easily

but at the same time her heart is so huge she can quickly form a soft spot for people once she gets to know them

if you’re her friend she will literally go to the ends of the earth for u , she will do anything for the people she cares about

she’s always experimenting w different outfits !

but she also loves hanging out in a hoodie and sweatpants w her hair in a messy ass bun , it’s her fave

on the weekend you’ll likely find her watching friends for the 100000 time in her apartment w a box of donuts 

she does love to have fun and go out and get drunk w her girls and dance all night yk , 21 year old stuff <3

i’m still developing her always but yAH .

* 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠  .

i want all da connections pls so like if u have anything ur dying for lmk & paycie can fill it  !  i also have my own wanted connections  HERE  , so  pls  come  plot  w  me  hehe  ♡

& ty for reading this whole ass mess , ily  !

[alolanrain]

Hey! It's the anon once again. I was finally able to see your post once I got the Tumblr app. I want to thank you. You and your ideas got me back in the Pokemon fandom and actually inspired me to work on my own Pokemon fanfic. I also have some questions. What do you think of Ash? Who's your favorite and least characters from each game/anime? What's your favorite pairing? Some of your favorite headcanons? Why do you hate Rose so much? (Haven't played SWSH)

I’m so happy that you were able to see it!!! And I’m happy that my work and ideas brought i you ou back! And wnsnans I CAN’T WAIT TO READ THE FIC!!!!

What do you think of Ash?

I’ve always seen myself in Ash. He reminded me of a child with severe ADHD, and me a child with severe ADHD loved having a character I can somewhat relate to than just more than girl characters. I also love how close he is with his Pokémon, and how he treats them very differently from a lot of trainers. Along with how he never actually forces them to evolve, it’s always up to them if they truly want to do that. 

What is your favorite/least favorite character from each Game/anime?

(I’ll do the games another time but I’m sticking with the Anime for now!!!)

Gen 1

Fav: Ash 👀 which is obvious

Dis: Lance surprisingly, I liked him a lot better when he showed up in Johto and during the last fight in Hoenn. But never liked him to begin with.

Gen 2

Fave: Brock, Ash actually gave me some annoyance during Gen 2 and Brocks Normal antics with pretty girls didn’t really upset me like it usually does

Dis: Misty, for the soul fact I didn’t like her voice. It reminded me to much of one of my old pre school teachers that actually hated me so I just associated Misty with her until after the Sinnoh arc

Gen 3

Fav: May, she reminded me a lot like Ash and also with having a little brother. I have two little sisters so I connected more with May

Dis: Wallace. Fuckin’ Wallace for the reason being I hated his fucking outfit 

Gen 4

Fav: Cynthia, she wanted to fight Gods and I love her

Dis: mix up between Paul and Barry for reasons very blatant

Gen 5

Fav: Ash back at it again because Cilan and Iris were to fucking annoying

Dis: Iris and Alder. It’s a tie between the two. Alder because he’s a Bumbling idiot and doesn’t deserve the title of Himbo. And I took personal offense every time Iris called Ash a kid when he ended up doing a small thing wrong or doing something that he just Dose because he’s Ash.

Gen 6

fav: Professor Sycamore, when he found out who the mask Blaziken was it made me smile a lot because the Professor also kept the secret to himself for so long

Dis: Serena, she was a good character and loved by many, I respect that. Her voice was annoying, along with Bonnie but I had a weird connection to her since my sisters loved her, and how blantant she was with Ash. Even though it was his own fault for not seeing the obvious fucking clues

Gen 7

Fav: Professor Kukui and Ash, FAMILY BOND!!!!

Dis: Faba. Do I even have to explain him?

Gen 8

(Ik, IK it’s barley even out tho)

Fav: I’m having a feeling I’ll love Marnie if she comes to the anime. But for now it’s Ash, the art style is amazing and the scene with Lugia? B L E S S

Dis: Chairman Rose and Oleana, I know their not in the anime yet but I still can’t help myself.

What’s your favorite pairing?

Its a toss up between four right now.

Palletshipping- it was literally the second ship I got into and was also another reason for me to continue watching Pokémon after Gen 1 because my friend hinted that Ash and Gary made up, somewhat, after the Johto conference. So it’s an oldy but a goodie and I enjoy a lot of smaller headcanons about them.

Originalshipping- it was, I think, my fifth ship? I loved watching my older brothers play the first Pokémon games every Christmas Eve after dinner at my dads. It was a tradition that still goes on today. But besides that, I love stoic and silent Red with blabber mouth and energetic Green. I screamed when I found out they were going to be at the battle tree in the Alola Sun and Moon game.

(I blame @hiddenbyfaeries for the next two because she talked/screamed with/at me about them)

Ash/Hau/Gladion- their cute separate and together. And Hau and Gladion has a lot of good emotions in the game while both had very good episodes with Ash in the anime. Gladion and Hau just didn’t have any together from my recollection.

Leon/Ash/Raihan- I never stated anything about this in a post. But I will clarify that I mean Leon/OLDER!Ash/Raihan, for Ash would technicaly be around 20-something if the anime would let him age up instead of staying ten. But it’s slowly climbing higher in my heart of ships.

Favorite headcanons?

- Ash is strong, crazy strong. But his body doesn’t shown it, he still has soft baby fat and slightly round edges. Yet he can still chuck you to the moon if he puts enough effort into it

- my Tattoo!AU in general, which I’ll expand later on

- Brock is still the best cook to Ash, even when he gets older and all. Brock is the best

- Gary has a natural attraction to Dark and Fairy types. So when he goes to Kalos for a few month working under Professor Sycamore he ends up getting a sylveon, shiny or not is your chose to interpret

- Cynthia likes watching Dawn during contests, just like Diantha likes watching Serena in her contests

- ^^^ Diantha was slightly sad that Serena wasn’t going to enter in the Kalos contests. But she did warn Wallace about how good Serena is and got the older man to watch some of the girls old competitions. Wallace ends up falling in love with the girl and some how ends up becoming her pseudo weird ass uncle

-^^^^ she calls up May, who Ash sent her phone number to because he doesn’t want to approach Serena yet because of the kiss, and asks about Wallace

- May: *Sighs* he unofficially adopted you?

Serena: *panicked* he’s asking me to call him Uncle Wall!?

May: *seriouse* welcome to the family, you can’t escape

- both Gary and Ash melt when you pet their hair, like really get into it and lightly scratching their skulls. Their puddles of love and whine and complain when you stop.

- this is more canon I believe than a headcanon, but Professor Oak was an Ice type trainer before becoming a Pokémon Professor. So imagine him with an Alolan Ninetails

Why do you hate Rose so much?

I don’t have SWSH either, I watched my little cousins and older brothers play it on the Tv. I had an inkling of Rose since he was first introduced before the game. Something just bagged at the back of my head and grew as more content came out. This is the first time we’re dealing with a Chairman of the League in general, it’s usuajust the Champion that you see running it (or in Alola’s case, Professor Kukui). So having an actual Chairman just set off my warnings signs and I ended up being right that he was the bad guy. Oleana also didn’t help his image to me. But I’ve also felt with people like him and they were all very condescending to me, so just seeing him made my blood fucking boil.

[medleyofswag]

Rant time!

Probably huge unpopular opinion but I need to vent and it's what I use tumblr for, so-

I am genuinely sorry, but Detroit Become human did not live anywhere near up to my expectations.

I'll even say I am dissapointed.

If you love the game more than life itself, I urge you to NOT read this, becuase you will only get pissed at me, probably, which is dumb to put yourself through.

I do love a lot about it- but there is too much I don’t like about it, and I need to rant becuase I’m sad about it, AND NO- I have not played it with my own two hands, but I have watched and analyzed it several times and this is a review of the story/script, which is key for me in any game. (and this review explains why I’m starting to wonder if I even want the game.)

Here’s also my favorite youtube reviewer, Angry Joe, makes several great points about both gameplay and story- [x]

×SPOILERS AHOY×

I saw the trailer of Kara being put together when it first came out, years ago, and I just... expected something... mindblowing.

Let me also say- Me, personally- fucking love, I live, I thrive off of robots with personaleties. Ever since being a kid, I have such a humongous amount of weakness and love for tech that can talk and feel, just having a mind of it's own.

Examples of fave little roboes, for good messure;

The cartoon Transformers probably started it off

R2D2, C-3PO, BB8, K-2SO (Star Wars)

Iron giant (1999)

B.E.N (Treasure planet)

Jarvis (Iron man, Marvel)

Sonny (I. Robot)

Baymax (Big Hero 6)

Transendence (2014)

Wall-e, Eve (2008)

Atom (Real Steel, subtle personality)

Literally every little fucker from Tales from the Borderlands (Telltales)

Carl (Meet the Robinson)

Aaaaand those are just from the very top of my head as I'm writing this, there is such a huge amount of robotic and tech-characters and I adore them all.

My point is- put a robot with a mind and personality of its own in anything- and it'll become my favorite character automatically. (huehuehu yes pun)

And so, my expectations for this game might have been unrealisticly sky-high from the get-go, becuase of the pedestals I put robots on, I'm not sure exactly, but In any case-

The dialog is good enough, the graphics are obviously fucking insane- and the characters are a mix of amazing and just... plain confusing- but the story???

Well, I don't know, I was expecting...

Better imagienation, I guess. Not to mention some type of damn red thread?? (-partly a hint to the red ice, wtf was that)

The only thread is Jericho, which, originally starts as a part of Markus story- as some sort of fucking religious awakening for him?? 

In all honesty, the fastest way to make me lose interest in literally anything- shove some religion into it. And this is even worse becuase they’re suppose to be freaking robots. Being spiritual?  Sure! They seem to have souls, so that makes sense! But straight-up full-on religious all of a sudden???

The whole rA9 thing????? What??WhY

The fact that he became a goddamn massia of some kind, is just??? dumb??? He ressurected like some damn Jesus and saved his people like Mose, but the androids basically moved from being slaves of the humans to being slaves of Markus. There was no way for me to actually trust that every individual android just gained free-will becuase Markus layed a hand on them???

And there’s the damn Lucy-bot who’s a damn oracle of some kind????wAT

He could’ve had a similar story without having it being so...  religious.

And who the fuck is North and why does she have a romance option??? She’s so fucking violent- she responds so easily to hurt humans instead of being peaceful and why would Markus relate to that and like her?? Sure, you can choose for Markus to be violent as well but that doesn’t make sense becuase Carl taught him to fucking chill and treated him well-WHICH ALSO makes it odd that Markus, of all androids, should be the leader of an android-freedom revolution?? 

I cannot be the only one confused about it??

Yes sure- He learned about empathy, so even tho he had it good with his owner, he was quickly shoved in the garbage and then he felt that his fellow androids were treated like shit and they all needed to be free. STILL doesn’t explain how he got out of that garbage as if he knew exactly what to do. He should’ve stumbled around like bambi on ice, confused and upset.

SO, The whole revolution thing, It's simply a concept that doesn't hold up, not on this type of platform anyway, not in a three-parted story. The pacing goes to shit becuase of it and if I expected anything- I expected a lot of logic in this game.

I was expecting a lot more human-android interaction, but all I get is android vs humans.

The best part is definitely Connor's story. (I do love me that boidroid, very much) He has character development that makes sense- for the most part- and the whole concept of androids joining the force is logical, not exactly original, to have a type of super-human on the side of the police, but atleast it made sense. And also- in this part I did get consistent human-android interaction. 

The only one.

And yet- that’s mostly provided that you don't actually die as Connor, becuase he resets as a new copy, which is cool as a gameplay but it fucks up the realistic pacing if you want a friendship with Hank. (yes I'm bitter)

Connor is also the only one who acts like a robot-that is becoming human. This is still testing the limist, as he has potential to die in every damn sequence.

Markus is starting off pretty good, but it’s like he’s becoming more robotic instead? Is it suppose to be a war-thing? becuase it’s not believeble. 

And Kara, to me, just feels like a very awkward jittery human. I can’t really find her droid-yness.

Kara I feel like, she was all over the place, I can't even... 

I don't even know where to start, her story had pretty good pacing I guess... kind of... sort of... almost. I don't know, Luther was amazing, but he seemed so random, I don’t know why. BUT GUESS WHAT?? THE ONLY FEMALE LEAD WANT TO BE A MOTHER??? Come the fuck on, are you fucking kidding me- I assume they wanted to appeal “to the most human part of a woman” for a female android, but it’s just bad imagienation for me.

I mean, Alice is adoreble but, why would she not even know she’s an adroid and fucking TELL KARA???

And please, for the love of games- I can’t be the only one who immedietly thought about Madison from Heavy rain in the creepy phsyco’s house when Kara went to Zlatko?

Quantic dream really love to put women in a creepy-fucker situation, don’t they. (even starting too seem unoriginal, innit?)

-

Alright so, if you read this and hate me- well, I warned you. If you read this and see what I mean, thank you! I love not feeling alone!

Thank you for reading! 

I hope I didn’t steal too much if your time!

-

There are probably some points that I have missed but these are the most frequantly coming to mind.

DBH, My summery- 

Superb desgin

Insane and amazing multi-ending concept

Bad imagienation

I love Chloe, the main menu lady, so much.

[hensart]

So this post by @missd476 made me so inspired I had to jump in! Why? Because Hilda is my fave and robots are cool! \o/ ✨

Also oops, I maaaybe did come up with something more... Under readmore is robot!Hilda headcanons (+headcanon why she made a deal with The Devil).

One night years ago, a shooting star was seen on Inkwell Isle’s sky, which landed somewhere in the forest. Few residents went to investigate and on the place where star had landed, was a young lady who only knew her own name. Nothing else.

Hilda had absolutely no idea where she came from or anything else of her origins. Nonetheless, all the residents welcomed her in, while she slowly started to adapt into the Isle’s lifestyle.

She was confused for a long time, still questioning the same things about her origins, but also something else: What was her purpose?

She once saw someone getting a cut on their finger and bleeding red substance, which made her even more confused. When she got a cut, instead of blood she could only see gears and other mechanical parts inside herself.

She visited Dr. Kahl’s workshop once and learned about robots from him, there realizing that she was one herself. She decided not to tell anyone tho', since everyone already believed her to be a living being and she wasen't sure how they would react to it.

But now new question started to bother her: Who created her and why?

She was capable of feeling emotions and slight physical pain. She could also eat and drink, which made her resemble living creature even more.

With time others and Hilda herself realized how much knowledge she had of astrology. She was like walking encyclopedia about the topic. Also around there she discovered her skills on controlling the weather. Soon she became Inkwell Isle’s astrologer.

Now when she had something she was good at and was infiltrating within other residents, Hilda also started to gain her own personality: fiery, passionate, grumpy, mischievous, loud… She also started to make more and more friends, even she also enjoyed to be by herself a lot too.

She learned just enough about robots from Dr. Kahl so she was able to maintain herself whenever needed, without anyone else finding out about her secret.

But within herself she still tried to figure out, who she actually was and other bothering questions of her origins. She was so hungry for answers.

Eventually despite other residents' warnings of the place, she ended up to Devil’s Casino, with hope that a higher being could give her answers she desperately wanted.

There she met The Devil, who claimed right away to know everything about her and offered to give her anything she wanted if she playes a game. She looked at The Devil straight in the eyes, without fear and said: “Okay, if I win, you have to tell me everything about myself and my origins. Who I actually am, where I am from, why and who created me and why they sent me here.”

The Devil grinned widely and answered with question himself: “Then what do I get if you lose?” Hilda looked at the creature, puzzled. “What do you want then?” The grin widened even more when he hissed: “Your soul would be nice.”

This made astrologer raise her eyebrow. “Do I even have one?” The Devil chuckled deeply and offered two dices with: “Let’s find out.”

Needless to say, she lost the bet and had to make the contract as a promise to give away her soul once she “passes away”.

For quite a long time, she actually had hope that The Devil will never get her, since as a robot she couldn’t technically age. Until one day, two cuptwins arrived asking for her soul contract, which she of course wasen't ready to give away without a fight.

[sugawaras]

Banana Fish, Kimetsu no Yaiba, Haikyuu ofc so do what you want or all c:

tyyy!! id love to do all 3 haha 

banana fish:

haven’t heard of it | absolutely never watching | might watch | currently watching | dropped | hated it | meh | a positive okay | liked it | liked it a lot! | loved it | a favorite

don’t watch period | drop if not interested within 2-3 episodes | give it a go, could be your thing | 5 star recommendation 

fav characters: eiji, ash, singleast fav characters: golzine fav relationship: asheijifav moment: hmm i love the scene in the beginning where eiji pole vaults over the wall to get ash help like that was so badass, and also that scene in the museum where ash totally goes beast mode against some guys golzine sent after him (also a super badass scene haha) headcanons/theories: my fav hc is that a certain character (*no spoilers*) lives and him and eiji move to japan and live happily ever after with a dog and a bunch of adopted kids :’)unpopular opinion: idk if this counts but when I was reading the manga epilogue I was getting very romancey vibes from sing and eiji? and I kinda like the idea of them getting together after everything that happened, esp bc I think itd be hard for anyone except for sing to understand what eiji went through :( asheiji forever ofc but in the canon universe I can kinda see sing/eiji in the futurehow’d you find it: I think I just heard about it being an airing summer anime and it sounded p interesting so I decided to watch it! and the name definitely caught my intention LOLrandom thoughts: it was really good!! the ending definitely wrecked my soul and I was like shocked for days sdfhhdfsh but besides that, theres a lot of good action, character development, etc.! theres also a TON of trigger warnings that could apply tho (ex. sexual abuse, violence) but overall I rlly enjoyed it!! 

(haikyuu and kny are under the read more!)

haikyuu:

haven’t heard of it | absolutely never watching | might watch | currently watching | dropped | hated it | meh | a positive okay | liked it | liked it a lot! | loved it | a favorite

don’t watch period | drop if not interested within 2-3 episodes | give it a go, could be your thing | 5 star recommendation 

fav characters: hinata, suga, tendou to name a few, but honestly every character is a fave!!least fav characters: none?? I didn't really like washijou in the anime (including the ball boy arc) but hes gone through so much development in the manga I have no choice but to stan shhfsdfav relationship: kagehina!fav moment: omg theres so many, but to name a few: when hinata and kageyama finally get their new quick right at the training camp, yamaguchi’s serves in the 2nd seijou match, tsukki’s block against ushijima, nishinoya’s foot save against datekou, and the list goes on and on sfhdhfsdheadcanons/theories: I love the idea that haikyuu will end (well I hate the idea of it ending BUT) with kagehina at the 2020 Olympics on the japan national team playing together again, and some random kid sees hinata on the tv and the kid gets inspired to play vball bc of him just like how hinata started :’) ALSO manga spoilers but I saw this theory that udai tenma is like furudate’s self-insert and that that’s how he actually looks irl (which makes sense bc furudate based hq off his own hs vball experience AND tenma ends up becoming a mangaka soo...hmmm...)unpopular opinion: idk if I have any tbh! but (manga spoilers again) when the timeskip happened I saw a lot of ppl were really upset about it, and I was kinda sad we didn't get to see them as 3rd years, but I was actually so excited for the beach arc?? like holy crap it was such a plot twist and im so happy furudate took this direction, bc I honestly do think itd be kinda repetitive to see them go through second and third year and having to introduce tons of new characters would be a bit much :( how’d you find it: I had just finished watching yoi and I was like “ok im not gonna become obsessed w anime buuuut maybe ill just try another sports anime” and then i saw haikyuu and I was like “why not lol” and that was when I first started watching it!random thoughts: haikyuu is honestly my all-time fave!!! like it literally inspired me to start playing vball and hinata is such a great protagonist and its literally a work of art and actually super accurate and realistic gameplay (mostly, the quick attack is kinda out there BUT STILL) and yeah this show is just so dear to my heart :’))

kny:

haven’t heard of it | absolutely never watching | might watch | currently watching | dropped | hated it | meh | a positive okay | liked it | liked it a lot! | loved it | a favorite

don’t watch period | drop if not interested within 2-3 episodes | give it a go, could be your thing | 5 star recommendation (honestly I feel like almost anyone could get into kny)  

fav characters: inosuke, tanjirou, kanrojileast fav characters: muzan but even he;s rlly complex and fav relationship: shinazugawa/Tomioka and kanroji/iguro! (also zenitsu/tanjirou/inosuke/nezuko are squad goals haha)                                          fav moment: literally any fight scene fshfhsf, like theyre all so well animated and the demon backstories are so sad omg                                      headcanons/theories: sabito was tomioka's first love and the one that got away :’( but he ends up falling in love w shinazugawa and they help each other through the grief of losing their loved ones                                              unpopular opinion: none in particular!

how’d you find it: id heard a ton of good reviews about it, but I put off watching it mainly bc of school and whatnot, but then winter break came and I had a ton of free time and I ended up bingewatching it lmao random thoughts: ok kny gives me serious hxh chimera arc vibes?? i mean personally i would consider it a lot less tragic but the demon backstories are kinda like the ants and the invincible nature of muzan vs. meruem, and also tanjirou willing to die for nezuko being similar to killua and gon ...much to think about ssfshhf