#my people went from around 10000 to hundreds

[deprecious]

This kind of feels like that time Taika Waititi won the Oscar over Greta and white feminists were like "another MAN winning an Oscar" not realizing the significance of an Indigenous man winning an Oscar. Like, I'm gonna watch the movie and enjoy it but that smallpox reference is always gonna be there for me now.

[honeys-hotties]

No Es Suficiente (It’s Not Enough) (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Alexia x f!Reader,

Part 1/?

Warnings: buckle up babes, she’s angstyyyyyyy

Also, this is my first fic ever!! Big milestone, but quite honestly I’m not 10000% sure how I feel about this? Anyways, I hope you enjoy!! xxx Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight playing out below her, her mouth dropping open and eyes filling slowly with tears. She had known, of course she had known that Y/N would be at the event. Y/N quickly excused herself from the conversation, making her way outside onto one of the mostly abandoned balconies. 

Y/N and Alexia had been much more than friends, but had skirted around labels. The closest one would probably be friends with benefits, but that seemed to be simplifying an exceedingly complicated relationship. The two had met at an event held in Barcelona for famous women in the media a year and a half ago, Alexia the star football player, Y/N the stunning, highly accomplished young actress. The two had immediately clicked, and had spent the night talking and laughing like they were the only two people in the room. Alexia had seen some of Y/N’s work and considered herself a casual fan, in awe of the younger woman’s obvious talent. Y/N, on the other hand, who absolutely adored football and specifically Barcelona, had been a fan of Alexia’s since the midfielder had first begun playing for the club. As the night wore on and the two did not seem to be running out of things to talk about, Alexia invited Y/N to her apartment, where they spent the rest of the night getting to know each other in a number of ways.

And thus began their relationship. Y/N flew out to Spain whenever she could, and between new films and projects spent as much time as possible wrapped in the arms of the Catalonian, who adored spending time with her estrella. However, as time went on and Y/N’s feelings for the football star grew, she began wanting more. Any time the actress brought it up, however, Alexia shot her down, saying that what they had now was perfect, and that they were both so busy and saw each other too rarely for anything other than what they had. Alexia would never say it, but Y/N knew she was scared. Scared of what being in a relationship would bring, especially with the both of them being such public figures. So Y/N let it be, content to be the football star’s secret, at least for the time being. 

Y/N had met Alexia’s teammates, who treated her like family, and soon enough her Spanish visits became something she looked forward to more than almost anything else. Of course, these visits were not perfect, and many times she ended up feeling used, waking up to Alexia’s empty bed, cold sheets in her place while the older woman went on with her busy life. But Y/N was busy too, busier than she had ever been, and with her career on the rise and every director imaginable wanting to cast the up and coming actress in their new projects her Spanish visits became less and less frequent. She still texted Alexia as often as she could, FaceTime becoming her best friend, and was able to keep in contact with the rest of her Barca family, watching games at ungodly hours of the morning and accepting phone calls no matter the hour. She had even begun to carve out a life for herself in Barcelona, and while it did still mainly revolve around Alexia, she was feeling happier than she ever had. She attended many football matches, letting her inner Barcelona superfan break free, and soon became the life of the party, interacting with as many other Barca fans as possible. 

Hundreds of photos of her, sporting a number 11 jersey and waving a FC Barcelona flag littered social media, and she voiced her support for the club as loudly as she could. There were also many photos of her with the players, specifically one midfielder, sparking a number of rumours about the relationship between the two women. While these rumours had been circulating for a while, a photo taken of the two at a small coffee shop near Alexia’s apartment looking especially cozy had sparked an online frenzy, with Y/N’s fans and Alexia’s fans speculating on the relationship the two shared. These rumours had sparked the worst argument Y/N and Alexia had to date. Y/N had stayed relatively unbothered with it all, knowing how these things worked and that eventually people would move on to something else. Plus, a small part of her hoped that maybe this would show Alexia that things between them could work. I mean, they already knew they were insanely compatible, and an extremely attractive power couple to boot. In addition, Y/N had realized recently how deep her feelings for Alexia ran. She would even call it love, and Y/N was hoping more than anything that these rumours would be the push Alexia needed to make them an official couple. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Alexia was furious, blaming Y/N for the rumours, saying that if the morning when the photo was taken if Y/N had just gone somewhere else instead of insisting they go out together then they wouldn’t be in this mess. Y/N told Alexia she didn’t understand why the older woman thought it was a bad thing, that it was just talk and it would die down soon enough.

“Ale, this is a good thing!” the actress told her, crossing the room to take the older woman’s hand in hers. “This just proves what I have been telling you, that we can have a real relationship and things will be okay! Everyone online is being so amazing and supportive, we can make this work bebe! I do not understand why you are upset.”

“I am not surprised you do not understand,” Alexia seethed, ripping her hand away from the actress and walking to the other side of the room. “Unlike you, I need to have extreme focus every day I go to work, and you will be nothing but a silly distraction. This online interest just proves what I have been saying all along, people are more focused on our supposed relationship, and I need to be able to tune everything out and focus on the Champion’s League. I didn’t have time for a relationship when we first met, something I made very clear, but you still refuse to listen.”

“I know you don’t mean that, Ale.” Y/N’s voice shook, tears filing her eyes. She had never seen Alexia like this, not her sweet, silly Alexia who would cook her breakfast when she had tired the actress out the night before and give her piggy back rides after late nights out with the team. “You are just stressed about the league. But you don’t need to be, amor, you are going to be amazing, I just know it, and I’ll be there for you every step of the way. Just please, let me in.”

“I have never meant anything more in my life.” Alexia bit out, turning from the actress who was now sobbing quietly, curling into herself on the end of the couch. “Spending time with you this past year has been fun, but it is time for me to focus on my career now, something I advise you to do as well. I am the captain of the club and the national team, I need to focus and I cannot do that with you here, or with people thinking we are in a relationship. I think you should leave.”

“Ale, please, let’s talk about this.” Y/N cried, standing and walking across the room towards Alexia, who put out a hand to stop the younger woman. 

“Leave,” she said, without emotion.

Y/N turned, refusing to let any more tears fall until she was out of the Catalonian’s sight. She stumbled down the street, and sat on a bench, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. She stayed like that for who knows how long, thanking her lucky stars that there were very few people out that night, and none who seemed to recognize her. Once she managed to calm down, Y/N pulled out her phone and booked the next flight home, eager to get out of Spain for the first time in her life.

Fast forward to the present; Y/N had been invited to another event, this one for some sort of charity that had partnered with one of the companies that Y/N was a spokesperson for. Coincidentally, this very same company sponsored FC Barcelona, as well as a number of other sports teams and athletes, and was held in Madrid, meaning the odds of Alexia being there were very high. However, Y/N had done her best to put the footballer out of her mind, focusing instead on the smaller details of the night she could control. The dress she wore. The jewelry she had chosen. The drink she had been nursing all night. The people she talked to. One thing she hadn’t counted on was seeing Alexia in the shadows by the dancefloor, locking lips with another party guest.

Y/N practically ran out of the room to the balcony, where she allowed a single tear to fall, looking out over the beautiful city. She stood there attempting to compose herself for a few minutes, before mentally preparing to head back inside. However, before she could turn back around, she felt a hand on her arm, turning her around. Spinning towards the person, Y/N felt her jaw drop for the second time that night, as someone who she had never expected to speak to her stood before her.

“I saw Alexia,” the woman offered in explanation. “And I think I can help you. To get back at her, I mean, or to at least make her feel as upset as you obviously do, because a woman as beautiful as you doesn’t deserve to be crying over someone who could never realize what they had.”

“I-what? How do you know?” Y/N questioned the taller woman, staring at her in shock.

Esther Gonzalez shrugged. “You two were less than subtle. Plus, I saw you making out after we played Barcelona last year. So, what do you think? Can I help you?”

Let me know what you think!! xxxx

*Update* Part 2 is now out!!

[shadowtraveled]

May the people hear about the pantheon 🤲

hi i love you 🤲🫀 (the heart is in my hands like the twilight cover)

the major gods are modeled on the major arcana of a tarot deck (with it going the other way around in-universe because that sounded fun) so their domains correspond roughly to themes of the various cards :}

here they are!

the gods come to exist when the concept of a domain becomes important enough to need an entity to manage it, so even though some of them are regarded as having familial ties to each other, that's almost kind of figurative? the idea of a hero is so frequently tied to the idea of justice that avreum is considered a parent to leo; the celestial bodies are all so associated with each other that silraeth, hanthe, and sohelon are viewed as siblings, even though none of them actually really came from anywhere, they just started existing. even so, gods that are associated with each other are frequently worshipped together and often even share temples :3 (it is so important to me that you know that selor and hanthe are in love)

the only exception to this is en, actually, who is like the asexual reproduction twinsiblingchild of an. an is Nothingness, so as soon as they created Something, en split off from them in a very literal sense

a lot of the current main pantheon are actually fairly young! the elder gods among them belonged to an entire different generation which featured ten additional deities who essentially did not ask to exist, did not want to be responsible for running a universe, and briefly (for like a few hundred years) imprisoned an so that they would not have to do all of that. most of the gods named on the list came into being as a result of this or the ensuing conflict as some of the named elder gods went searching for an to sort of mitigate the effects of Nobody Is Running The Things The Universe Needs To Continue Functioning Properly. this was nearly 10000 years ago and it came very close to an apocalypse. eventually, the new deities sort of took on the domains of those that did not want to be deities anymore, and the ten gave up their godhood. their names are now lost to time, but there are rumors that some people still attempt to worship them

as a side note, the gods of this world are relatively distant. they don't really interact directly with people, they don't often make their presence known even to those that do use divine magic derived from them, etc. religion is losing popularity in the world partially because of this and partially because the largest governmental power at the moment is an expanding empire that is very proudly officially atheist

[lakesbian]

#idk who skitter even is so i’m voting glados sorry…

how are you rb'ing this from me and you don't know who skitter is

you WILL respect taylor skitter hebert

once again the people must be informed of her actions

rotting a guy's dick off with brown recluses. on accident.

realizing due to her accident that it's actually pretty effective to put bugs on genitals and starting to threaten people with putting tapeworms up their asses on purpose. and also putting bugs up asses and peeholes on purpose. really if theres an orifice she puts bugs up there on purpose

dips her bugs in capsaicin before putting bugs up orifices on purpose so it hurts more. [skitter voice]i just dipped every tarantula hawk wasp in my villainous lair in liquid pepper spray so nows not the time to get stupid with my ass

using spider silk to create rube-goldberg machines of suffering i.e hauling a dude 3 stories up into the air and then dropping him, shattering all of his limbs on impact. all while casually holding a conversation w/ someone else

using centipedes to hollow another villain's eyes out and then putting maggots inside and just Leaving Them There with the intent of the heroes she hands the villain over to finding the maggots later and being scared of her

killed parahumans' wonder woman equivalent by putting bugs in her lungs and then using those bugs to make silk in her lungs to block out airflow. while monotone-quoting something wonder woman had said to threaten her earlier back at her as she died. wonder woman wasn't even in the room to hear it she just did it anyway.

only time she has ever successfully been jailed is when she turned herself in on purpose

made a phone call using bugs once. not villainous but very funny and iconic

used bugs to swang around a disintegration knife on a massive length of silk, killing like 50 people instantly, because she wanted one (1) person in the room dead and was willing to just shotgun that shit until it worked out for her. and then immediately after proceeded to think of herself as "not much of a fighter." because she has psychological issues.

mind-control kidnapped several thousand people once

literally made fun of god's dead girlfriend until he got suicidal and died about it

drove a car. blind. using bugs. no one realized she was blind for like 12 hours because she's a bug freak superorganism of a girl who walked around using bugs to triangulate perfectly w/o vision. also not villainous but still iconic

wanted to put 10000 black widow spiders in a shared villainous base to make costumes out of spider silk w/ and when the other dude who lived there was like "wtf can we not??" she was like "huh that's surprising. you don't want 10000 black widow spiders in your home? why? are you arachnophobic or something?" because she's a freak.

fucked, got up, and immediately made several hundred bugs crawl across her naked ass body to clean her off. because she's a freak. her boyfriend has had spiders on his dick he's just going to have to live with this

literally psychologically cannot refrain from putting bugs in the hair and clothing of everyone within a several block radius to keep track of them at all times because she's a panopticonic freak. like i'm talking "her friends occasionally talk to bugs they see under the assumption that it's her spying on them, and they're Right" level panopticonic freak. she rocks.

did i mention she's 15. world's most autistic freak 15yo dissociates hard enough to kill god more at 7

you can make tumblr posts about how glados is sort of funny and pathetic but taylor is just like. that's an iconic villain right there. shoutout to the time someone w/ precognition told a police chief that there was like a 30% chance of him dying in agony in the next 2 hours and he was like "psshh ok" and then he went to go interrogate taylor and within 2 hours he was dying badly of Bugs In All Of His Orifices.

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Nineteen. The Bench Trio and Sapnap make Phasmophobia 10000% Funnier

warnings: swearing maybe, word count: 3.5k (not including pictures) 

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

note: wooooo last chapter before... the trip........ be excited >:) 

**********

Y/n grimaced in anticipation as she looked at Karl’s wide eyes and open mouth as he leaned against the kitchen counter. He hadn’t said anything in almost a full minute and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take.

“Say something, Karl,” she mumbled as she tugged on the strings of her new, lime green hoodie. She stared at him as he switched between leaning his elbows on the countertop and standing up straight with his palms pressed to it instead.

“I... wh—what?” Karl finally voiced his scattered thoughts, cackling abruptly as he threw his head back and clutching his stomach. “WHAT THE HECK, Y/N?!” He stood up straight and beamed at her, his eyes darting to her hoodie and then to her face. “Dream sent you his own hoodie?? How am I suppo— what in the— WHAT? Is this one his?” His fingers gently tugged at the hem of the material as he stared at it, eyes full of curiosity.

Y/n shook her head, face burning at Karl’s joy and surprise. “This one is just the merch one he sent. His hoodie is… very obviously his.”

“What do you mean?” he asked cautiously.

Y/n laughed lightly before leading him to her room, where the maroon hoodie lay neatly folded on the end of her bed. Karl picked it up and laughed. “It has a Florida thing on it?” he giggled and shook his head, not being able to get enough out of the whole situation and his best friend’s clear embarrassment. “Why aren’t you wearing this one? Too shy to flaunt your boyfriend’s clothes?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she clarified quickly, sending Karl a sideways glance. “But I’m trying to… you know… preserve it.” And because she worried that if she never took it off, she would only get more and more attached to the boy who lived three states away, hundreds of miles from her. She preferred sleeping in it over wearing it around the apartment. It was more comforting that way.

Karl lost it. He cackled maniacally and nearly fell on Y/n’s bed, losing his mind at how stupid the two were. “Preserv—Y/N! If you just tell him you like him, he’ll probably give you a new one when we go to his literal house.”

Y/n’s face heated up even more as she hummed. “About that…”

Karl’s laughter stopped abruptly, wide eyes staring at the girl. “No way.”

Y/n cowered lightly, nodding her head ever so slightly.

Once again, the curly-haired boy acted like he won the lottery. “NO WAY! Y/N, NO WAY! You’re lying, you told him??”

A wide grin spread across her face and she nodded as she recounted the details to him, almost like telling a little kid a fascinating fairytale. Karl’s face was glowing the whole time, his excitement for his best friend clear in his toothy grin and bright eyes.

He nearly tackled her when she finished, her hands tugging roughly at the hoodie strings, but tried to compose himself instead.

“Y/N! THAT’S SO AWESOME!! Wait, wait, wait, so, are you guys, like…?”

She shook her head. “We’re not dating, we’re just two people who like each other who are going to go on a date in…” she paused to the check the date on her phone and her stomach fluttered with excitement, “like, a week??”

Karl laughed and wiggled a little, his excitement nearly bursting at the seams. “Please, can I please give you a celebratory hug?”

Y/n laughed and opened her arms. “Of course.” He jumped at the opportunity, wrapping his arms around her in a huge hug and squeezing tightly. “Wait a minute, I’m mad at you!” she pulled away and Karl’s smile dropped.

“What did I do?”

“You and George knew how Dream and I felt and didn’t tell either of us anything?”

Karl raised his hands in defense. “No, hold on, to be clear, Dream himself didn’t say anything to me until, like, a week ago. I only knew before that because Sapnap and George told me stuff.”

“What the hell, Karl!! Sapnap too?”

“Yeah, of course Dream told him stuff, they live together and are best friends. Why wouldn't he know?”

“You’re all traitors.”

“We were sworn to secrecy! Both of you made us promise to not say anything!”

“That didn't stop you from talking to Sapnap about my feelings?”

“Ah, but I kept my promise and didn't tell Dream… you never said anything about Sapnap.”

Y/n gave him a deadpanned look and crossed her arms over her chest.

Karl paused. “Does it help if I tell you that we talked to Quackity about it too?”

“WHAT?” she snapped, though a small disbelieving laugh chased her words. “What, are you all just talking about us behind our backs? You told Quackity and Sapnap about my crush but you couldn’t have hinted at it to Dream? Or told me you knew how Dream felt?”

“You think I didn’t?” Karl laughed. “I hinted to you about his crush all the time, but you just never believed me!”

Y/n paused, recalling all the times Karl was super encouraging, promising things would work out, and even the times Karl straight up told her he thought Dream liked her. She pouted. “You know that I’m stupid.”

Karl stuck his bottom lip out in a smile. “You are. But you’re also ballsy and finally admitted you like him so all this can be in the past and you don’t have to be mad at me anymore. Right?”

“I’m not actually mad at you, Karl. I am embarrassed that you've told them things I’ve said.”

“Oh, no, no, don't worry. N one of us really explicitly said things you or Dream have said. We all mostly just complained to each other about how stupid you two were being,” he assured. “Well, Sapnap is Sapnap though, so he did tell us some very specific things Dream has ranted to him about regarding you.” He giggled as Y/n’s jaw dropped lightly.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “No, I don’t want it to ‘be in the past’ anymore; I want you to tell me everything Dream has told the others about me.”

“No! That’s private information. You can ask him yourself on your daaateee,” he sang, making her face heat up more.

“I’m going on a date with Dream,” she whispered in disbelief and Karl beamed at her. “Even better, you’ll see him in person in exactly a week.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “That’s so soon. Karl, I’m going to faint or something.”

The boy just smiled at her. “You’ll be fine. Naomi and I will hold you up if you need.”

A few days passed and Y/n found herself with her tucked her knees to her chest as she greeted her chat enthusiastically. “Today, it’s gonna be intense. Today we’re playing Phasmophobia!! So if you don’t like scary games or paranormal stuff or anything like that, feel free to not watch and just listen or even close out completely. I don't want anyone to get triggered or be actually scared or anything.”

She watched as hearts flew by in her chat and she smiled.

“Yeah, don't feel bad if you need to leave! But if you do want to stay, it’s going to be super fun and probably very chaotic. Today we’re playing with Sapnap, Ranboo, and Tubbo, and Tommy is in the call but he’s not playing.”

“And me!” Karl said from beside her and she laughed.

“Oh, yeah, and Karl is here in real life because he’s clingy.”

“That’s a lie; Bugsy is terrified so she asked me to be here for emotional support.”

“If I wanted emotional support, I would have asked Naomi to be here instead. You get scared easier than me.”

Karl laughed and looked at her chat

“Okay, so, yeah, remember to leave if you need to and take care of yourselves but I’m going to join vc now!” Y/n unmuted in the call, announcing her presence loudly. She switched her stream screen to the Phasmophobia lobby where her, Ranboo, Tubbo, and Sapnap’s lanky characters walked around aimlessly messing with stuff.

“Hiiii,” Tubbo dragged out sleepily. “Are you ready to be spooked by the scary game, Bugsy?”

“Yes, I'm so ready.”

“The Scary Game,” Ranboo laughed. “Trademark.”

“Hello, Bugsy Games,” Tommy greeted robotically and she laughed, responding in the same voice.  

“Hello, Tommy Innit.”

“How are you doing?” His voice was monotonous and reluctant, almost like he was being forced to be nice to her. She knew it was all a joke between them though, as Tommy had come to her for advice about things before.

“I'm doing well, how are you?” she laughed.

“'I'm doing well’,” he mocked. “How pretentious of you to say.”

“TOMMY,” Sapnap called out. Her nerves spiked at the new knowledge that Sapnap knew more than she had told him about her feelings for Dream. Not that he would ever say anything on a livestream in front of tens of thousands of people, but it still made her nervous. “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO HER?”

“I'm not scared of you, big man,” Tommy explained. “I will say what I want to Bugsy and you can't do anything about it.”

“What about me and Sapnap combined?” Karl asked from her side. “We are the BugsyGames protection squad.”

“I think George is on it, too,” Sapnap declared.

“Can we be part of the protection squad?” Tubbo asked. “We can intimidate people with Ranboo’s height.”

“I'm the least terrifying person you will meet,” Ranboo claimed. “I am only tall.”

“I'm not scared of any of you,” Tommy assured. “I will continue to say mean things to Bugsy if I feel like it.”

“Okay, but you might be scared of someone we know, though. Someone who lives with me?” Sapnap hinted obviously. Everyone, including chat – who were spamming the name of that certain someone –  knew who Sapnap was referring to. Someone, who the mere mention of, made Y/n’s face heat up.

Tommy went quiet for a moment before mumbling close to his mic, “I'm sorry, Bugsy, you are not pretentious. You are actually a very kind person.”

She absolutely loved the fact that so many of their friends, joking or not, knew that Dream cared about her so much. Had it really been obvious all along, even to someone like Tommy?

“You're a menace to society, Tommy.” She smiled to herself as Karl laughed.

Tommy sputtered in surprise. “WHAT!”

“Are you guys ready to play?” Y/n asked as she went to the whiteboard in the game to start.

“Yes, let’s go!!!” Tubbo cheered.

Phasmophobia was eventful to say the least. Between Ranboo’s panic, Sapnap’s screams, Karl’s cackling laughter, Tommy yelling as he watched the stream, and Tubbo being blissfully unbothered by all of it, Y/n could barely catch her breath between laughing fits.

An outside observer might have thought the group was insane, and she felt bad for her chat having to put up with the obnoxious screams and cursing each other out, but it was the most fun she had had in a long time being able to mess around with this group of chaos she called friends. It only made her more and more excited for the upcoming trip, which was days away now.

“Okay, okay, I think I’m going to end here, is anyone going to stream?” she asked, still giggling from Ranboo’s latest bit involving him crying in the corner of the haunted building.

“I will be,” Ranboo announced.

“Then go start and I’ll raid you,” she offered, leaving him to thank her and leave the voice call to start his stream.

“Okay, thank you so much guys for playing! Wait, fit check?” she interrupted herself as her eyes caught the spam going through. “Chat…” Y/n trailed off with a laugh at the end. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but… you can’t see me. How am I supposed to give you a fit check?”

Tommy laughed from the other side of the call.

“Bugsy, does your chat not know you are faceless?” Tubbo joked, making her laugh.

“I-I guess not? Chat, we need to talk…”

“I can give a fit check for them,” Karl offered as he looked up from his phone. “I’ll just describe what you’re wearing.”

Y/n laughed but agreed.

“Do it, Karl,” Sapnap encouraged. “Feed the Bugsy stans. Then send me a fit check picture of you, Karl.”

Karl laughed. “Okay,” he said distractedly as he looked at Y/n. “She’s wearing, uh...”

“Can you even see her outfit or does she have the comforter around her like always?” Tommy asked, half genuine, half mocking.

“Actually, she doesn’t because she has her new hoodie on. So that, and just, like, black pants. And fuzzy socks.”

Y/n held her breath as she looked down and realized what hoodie she was wearing. The good one. Normally it was reserved for sleeping in, but she wanted the extra comfort it provided while she played Phasmophobia. Any hoodie would have done, but having Dream’s clothing wrapped around her body gave her an extra level of security that she was too embarrassed to ever admit aloud.

“New hoodie?” Sapnap asked. “Give the people some more info, Karl. What does it look like?” She couldn’t tell if there was malice behind his words or if he was genuinely curious. Did he know about Dream sending her one of his hoodies? They were roommates after all, Sapnap had to know, right? Especially since Y/n now knew that Dream told Sapnap a lot.

Karl looked at her with a huge grin, knowing exactly where the piece came from. “Yeah, super new. It has a Flori—”

“It’s just red,” she said quickly, giving Karl a wide-eyed look.

“Oh?” Tubbo asked. “W-why did you sound so suspicious? What kind of red?”

“Suspicious?” she scoffed. “What’s suspicious about a hoodie?” she paused before adding quieter, “And.... it’s maroon.”

“Interesting…” Sapnap said, his smile clear in his voice. He knew. He definitely knew.

The accusatory tone of his voice paired with Karl hiding his giggles behind his hand made Y/n pull her collar over her face in embarrassment. The action only caused the lingering smell on the material to fill her nose, but she wasn’t necessarily complaining.

“I have a maroon hoodie!” Tubbo related, oblivious alongside Ranboo and Tommy about the teasing going on between her and Sapnap. “What kind is it? Maybe it’s the same one?”

“Tubbo, you should not sound so pleased at the possibility of matching Bugsy,” Tommy sneered and Y/n momentarily forgot about the embarrassment of knowing Sapnap knew.

“Tommy, when we meet, I will personally make sure that you do not have fun.”

“Oh, I’m so excited for that!” Tubbo said obliviously. “It’s going to be so fun!”

Y/n glanced at her chat again and smiled at all the accusations that she was meeting up with some of the other streamers in the call. Little did they know how many of them were not only meeting up, but spending a week and a half vacation together.

“Me too, but chat doesn’t get to know anything about it.”

“Right, right, sorry chat!” Tubbo apologized. “You all are forced to stay out of the loop.”

“Oh, Ranboo went live, I’m going to end. I’ll talk to you guys later! Thanks again for playing!”

“Thanks, Bugsy!” Sapnap said. “It was fun.”

“Bye Bugsy…” Tommy dragged out and she laughed.

“Bye guys,” she said finally and muted, turning her attention back to her stream. “Thanks everyone for watching! And for everyone who donated or subbed or anything like that, thanks! I’ll stream again on Friday but after that I won’t be able to stream for a while, but I do have YouTube videos I will be posting so look out for those!”

She finally ended and turned to Karl after everything was shut off.

“Sapnap definitely knows about the hoodies,” Karl giggled at her expression. “Man’s voice was pure teasing, he knows.”

Y/n laughed and shook her head. “I know! What the heck. Thanks for hanging out with me, by the way.”

“Of course! I like hanging out even if I don’t get to play.”

“Even over your secret friend?”

Karl turned pink. “She’s busy. I’m also still not talking about this.” He stood up and Y/n smiled, dropping the topic.

“Karl, I was joooking.” She followed him out to the kitchen, where Naomi sat typing rapidly on her laptop, most likely cramming for an exam. Y/n’s phone buzzed from her pocket so she pulled it out and couldn’t help the smile or heat that made its way to her face.

Y/n excused herself from the kitchen — where Naomi was still typing furiously and Karl was now thoroughly entertained with something on his phone — to answer the incoming FaceTime call from Dream. She hit accept as she fell on her bed.

“Hi,” she greeted.

“YOU’RE WEARING THE HOODIE I GAVE YOU? HOW EMBARRASSING! HAHA LET’S ALL LAUGH AT Y/N FOR WEARING MY HOODIE!!”

Y/n frowned at his joke and hit the red end button underneath Dream’s face. Her screen defaulted back to her home screen before a new call lit up.

She answered again. “Are you going to be nice?” she asked, pulling the soft, red material over her face, leaving just her eyes to see Dream’s adorable pout.

“Yes,” he said softly. “Sorry.”

She smiled and released the fabric, showing her whole face again, which made the boy smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I watched your stream,” he started and she scoffed.

“I know, how else would you have known about the hoodie?”

“Well, Sapnap also texted me so even if I wasn’t, I would have found out.”

Y/n shook her head as her face heated up with embarrassment. She knew the trip was going to be full of teasing from practically the whole group.

“But I was saying I watched your stream and it looked like a lot of fun. Sounded like you had fun, too.”

“I did,” she confirmed. “I love those guys, they’re awesome. I love how everyone just bounces off each other, it’s so funny.”

“I can tell,” Dream laughed, “I haven’t heard you laugh that hard before.”

“Oh gosh, did I sound like a crazy person?”

Dream smiled and rubbed one of his eyes sleepily. “No, well, maybe a little but, like, in a cute way.”

“In a cute way? So I’m crazy but in a cute way? Yeah, okay, Dream.”

“No, I mean, like, your laugh was just super loud and energetic but it wasn’t obnoxious or gross or anything, it was adorable. It’s probably the cutest sound I’ve ever heard.”

“You might be a little biased.”

He hummed as he smiled at his screen for a few seconds. “Maybe a little, but so what?”

“You weren’t supposed to agree to that!” she said.

“Secret’s out that I like you so I get to say things like that now, Bug. As long as it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, I’m going to call everything you do cute.”

“Shut up.”

“Cute.”

Her stern expression broke with a laugh and she hung her head. “Got any ideas about our date yet?”

He smiled widely. “Yes.”

“What are they?”

“You really think I’m going to tell you? Absolutely not. You have to wait.”

“Can you at least tell me what day? You’re not making me wait until Georgia, right? The date is while we’re in Florida?”

“So eager, sheesh!” Dream teased. “But so am I, so yeah. I was thinking maybe the 23rd? Since you guys will get here on the 22nd?”

“Oh, who’s eager now? The day after I get there?”

Dream pouted so she smiled and assured him that she was just as excited for their date as he was. “I’m kinda nervous because it’ll be the day before Christmas Eve, so a lot of places will be super crowded and I know you said you don’t like big crowds so we might have to work around some stuff—”

“Dream, I’m honestly just excited to see you. Anything we do will be fun, I promise. I’m just happy I’ll get to see you and spend time with you.”

His worried expression softened as it was replaced with a fond smile. “Down bad, huh?”

Just like that, the tender moment was ruined and Y/n groaned, a laugh bubbling in her throat. “What is wrong with you? You’re the one stressing out so much about a date! You’re the one who’s down bad.”

“Yeah, but at least I can admit it.”

She shook her head at him for what felt like the millionth time and sighed. “I can’t believe I put up with you.”

“You must like me a lot, I guess,” he said, pushing her to admit it again.

“I guess I do.”

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[redbeardace]

I was asleep.

Everyone remembers where they were. I was sleeping.

I was in college then. Summer quarter had ended a few weeks ago, and Fall quarter was a few weeks away, so I had nothing to do that Tuesday. I was sleeping.

My mother would get up to help get my father ready for work. He'd leave a little after 6 AM. Then she'd stay up and turn on the KTLA Morning News. We weren't in Southern California, but we'd lived there and had family connections there, so it felt like a "local" newscast, even though it was a thousand miles away. So most weekdays, I'd fade into consciousness, hearing the rhythm of the broadcast.

Carlos to Mark, Mark to Jennifer, Jennifer to Sam, Commercial, Repeat.

That morning, none of that.

I couldn't really hear what was going on, but it wasn't normal. There were no jokes, no music, no commercials, no changes. Just a steady drone.

I started to listen, to try to hear what was happening.

I heard something about the Pentagon and a bomb at the State Department.

Well. That's not good.

I roll out of bed and into the living room. It was a little after 7:30.

There's a helicopter shot of giant cloud of dust on the TV. Dust. A few buildings. here and there. But dust. Everywhere. It looked like Mt. St. Helens had moved to the city and erupted.

It wasn't the Pentagon. It wasn't the State Department. Was that New York?

"Planes hit the World Trade Center towers." My mother's voice is shaky.

Okay, then, somewhere in that dust are the towers. They build those things to survive plane strikes. It survived the bomb in '93. The Empire State Building got hit by a plane and it's still standing. She told me that they'd fallen, but I didn't believe her. I couldn't believe her. They're just hidden by the dust and the dust will clear.

The dust will clear. The towers can't just fall. You'll see.

The dust will clear.

There was nothing there.

---

We watched what was unfolding on the other side of the continent all day long. I think my father got sent home early and joined us.

Watching a day like that unfold live is an experience that's hard to describe. You look back now, and there's a clear timeline, there are clear events. But on that day, nothing was clear. The news was an unbroken stream of numbing repetition and confusion. The anchors narrating what's going on have a worse view of it than you do, because they're squinting at small monitors halfway across the studio. You can flip between CNN, ABC, NBC, CBS, and pick up little tidbits here and there, but they can't. They only have what comes through their earpiece, what ends up on their TelePrompTer, what's handed to them on paper. No one knows what's going on, not even the people telling you what's going on.

That day was full of rumors and confusion. There were attacks at the State Department and the FBI, there was a plane that had crashed in rural Pennsylvania, there was a plane that had been hijacked in Alaska. We didn't know what was real, and what was a phantom of fear. But mostly, it was just the numbing repetition. There was nothing new to add. Nothing more to say at 1 PM that hadn't been said at noon. What got repeated is what had happened, what didn't get repeated hadn't. The plane crash in Pennsylvania got repeated. The attack at the State Department didn't.

All day long, it was the same video from earlier in the day. Maybe a new angle as reporters and survivors got their footage to a TV station. But we watched it again and again. Maybe there'd be a new detail to see, something to fill in another piece of the What The Fuck Just Happened puzzle we were now living in.

In a weird way, that day didn't seem as bad as it went on and the rumors subsided and the scope became clear. My morning started with a dust cloud that covered all of Lower Manhattan and obscured what had happened. Had the towers toppled sideways and crushed dozens of buildings for blocks around? It was 9 AM on a Tuesday, a work day, those buildings were full, and the area was a major commuter hub. 10000 people in each building, maybe tens of thousands passing through, hundreds of thousands in that cloud of dust. There's no one alive down there. The initial estimates they gave were 20-30 thousand in the collapsed towers alone, to say nothing of the people suffocated by that cloud of dust and smoke. And then Washington DC is under attack and they're even hijacking planes in Alaska. What are they going to do to us next? But the death toll steadily dropped, other rumored attacks were found to be false alarms, they didn't come back for a second round. But that "good" news didn't make us feel any better. What would've made us feel better would've been word that they had been rescuing dozens of people from the rubble, stories of survivors being found days later, but that news never came.

---

Where's the President? Why haven't we seen the President? Why hasn't he said anything?

"He's safe and in an undisclosed location."

On September 10th, George W. Bush was just a bumbling dumbass who'd stolen the election from Gore. He wasn't yet a warmonger, although he'd surrounded himself with them.

On September 11th, Bush was still a bumbling dumbass, but he was our President. I was actually glad that he was invisible and hidden most of that day. We didn't know what in the hell was going on. If I knew where the President was, then the assholes who did this to us would know where he was, and no matter how much I didn't like the guy, I certainly didn't want to see a terrorist attack on Air Force One or the White House.

But I was worried that he'd send in the missiles and bombers and turn everything from Morocco to Pakistan to ash, which is what some people were calling for before we even knew who was responsible. And that's not what happened. All that happened that day was... nothing. I respected that, and I still respect that. Rushing headlong into revenge isn't what we needed that day.

---

We ended that day, not with Dan Rather or Peter Jennings or Tom Brokaw, but with Hal Fishman, legendary anchor on the KTLA News at Ten. He was a plane guy. He'd know what happened. He was comfortable to us, familiar, and we needed to know there was still something out there comfortable and familiar.

---

The next day, my mother wanted a break from it all, so we went shopping. I don't think we needed to, and Wednesday wasn't the normal shopping day, but we just had to get out, so we went to Wal-Mart.

Throughout the store, there were TVs hanging from the ceiling. Normally, they'd show ads and music videos and things. Not that day. They were all tuned to CNN. People stopped in the middle of the aisle, watching Condoleezza Rice or Donald Rumsfeld or Colin Powell or whoever giving a press conference.

There was no break from it.

---

Does everyone else know it was a Tuesday? I mean, just know. Like somehow that is an important, integral part of what happened that day. Because I know it was a Tuesday with that same fierceness as I know that the towers fell. I don't remember all the flight numbers or which tower was hit first or which one fell first or even a single word of what the President said that night, but I know it was a Tuesday. And I don't understand why.

---

I've cried over it. I just did while writing all this. It's one of the few things I have cried about. But it's never sustained weeping. One tear. Maybe two. It feels like it should be more, but then it's like the scale becomes incomprehensible and unreal and it stops. What good will my tears do? They won't fix it. They won't change it.

---

"Never Forget", they say, but twenty years on, many of you have no memory of that day, maybe even weren't born yet. You've only seen the packaged videos from the perfect camera angles. You know what happened, the full story told from beginning to end across three acts in a two hour movie. You know the death toll, you know about the box cutters, you know how Osama Bin Laden ends, you know where the undisclosed location is, you know about the plane that said "Let's Roll". We didn't know any of that, sometimes for days or weeks or years. We only knew shock and confusion and sadness and anger and numbness and a giant cloud of dust that has not cleared and will never clear and still coats everything in our lives, even if we were thousands of miles away.

For those of us who saw that day...

Never forget?

How could we?

[1kook]

late fee

jeon jeongguk x (f) reader

summary: “Captain Underpants isn’t glorified by all the tryhards, so when I pick those books, you’re unknowingly more interested in me.” tags: f2l, flirty kook, jk’s obsession w/captain underpants, he’s a fuckboy but he’s a soft fuckboy dont get it twisted, campus boy crush jk(yes again), jk abuses the FuCK out of pet names, miss koo1aid actually writes some PLOT warnings: much flirting, nsfw bc of a lot of heavy petting, pussy eatin’, a lil dirty talk, very s l i g h t coochie sniffing, BUT!!! protected sex :) wc: 10.3k

i wrote another fic (applause) and the entire thing is based off my belief that jungkook 10000% would enjoy captain underpants books. not proofread bc i am a hermit and speak to exactly 0 ppl on here, que dios los bendiga

“Helloooo, sexy librarian,” Jeongguk says the moment he steps through the door, lopsided grin adorning his features as he swaggers over to obnoxiously lean against your desk. You can’t even pretend you didn’t see him, his presence so blaringly consuming, and evident in the way some dorky high schoolers glance over to gawk at him.

“What book are you checking out today, Jeon?” You muse instead, leaving your desk chair to head over to the stack of new books that needed to be stamped. As you turn, Jeongguk whistles at the sight, and you don’t even have it in you anymore to retort back the same way you would when he first started bugging you. “Also, are you aware that your copy of Captain Underpants and the Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants is due tomorrow? It’s a dollar for every day it’s late—”

“You needn’t worry longer, baby,” Jeongguk interrupts, and the loud smack of a hardcover against the desk catches your attention. There lies Jeongguk’s Captain Underpants book, alongside the paperback copy of Beloved that has definitely seen better days.

You furrow your brows. ��When did you check out this one?” You question, checking the spine to make sure the book belongs to your library. Much to your surprise, there’s no barcode on the side, and no stamp on the inside.

Your question goes unanswered as Jeongguk jumps into a full-length novella recapture of the hot frat party he’d been to last weekend, and how the Zeta Theta Psi guys knew how to party. That Jimin fellow that Jeongguk frequently mentions had apparently snorted a line of coke off their friend Seokjin’s broad shoulders just to prove his friend had godly proportions. It’s weird, but Jeongguk says it’s because you have to ride for your bros. You try to act uninterested, but Jeongguk’s a funny guy, really, and you can only hide so many chuckles with the sound of a stamp.

He’s in the middle of trying to cover up of one of his frequent trysts after accidentally exposing himself—”Don’t get it twisted, baby, I just took her upstairs to call her friend.”—when Namjoon comes out of the back room looking for you. He barely glances at your guest, before handing you a list of overdue books.

“Would you mind calling these people?” He asks, voice soft, just as everything else was about Namjoon. “They’re all a week past.”

“Yikes,” you say, eyes scanning over the list. Surprisingly, Jeongguk is still there, hovering over you as if waiting for you to dismiss him. “Do you mind, Jeon?” You say, channeling your best customer service voice. As much as Namjoon was wary of him, he still considered Jeongguk a patron in your establishment and hated to see him treated poorly, no matter how many library rules Jeongguk broke.

“Of course,” he sighs, and you miss the hostile glare he throws Namjoon when you whirl around for a highlighter. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” he says when you turn back around, stretching ana rm in your direction.

Half of you knows exactly what he’ll do, but the other half of you, the one trying desperately to act like his advances have no effect on you, have you placing your palm in his. You’re not super surprised when he tugs your hand upward, pecking your knuckles with a flirty wink. “Adios, Juliet,” he smirks.

“Wrong language,” you inform him, rolling your eyes nonchalantly even though your heart is beating one hundred miles per second. Jeongguk cackles, loud as all hell in the silent library, before making his exit.

It’s silent for all of twenty seconds before Namjoon jumps right into it. “So are you seeing him, or…” he interrogates, trying to act like he’s hardly interested, but you’ve known and worked alongside Namjoon long enough to know he’s secretly the community gossip.

You ignore him, choosing to jam the buttons on the phone instead.

The weird thing about Jeongguk, was that, although he was notoriously known amongst the undergraduates (and even some graduates, because he just had it like that, you suppose) as one of the biggest fuckboys, he was different. Not to sound like every teen romcom you’d ever scanned, but he genuinely was. For starters, he’d fuck your brains out and then make you his best friend the morning after. He definitely had a very peculiar, and backwards, way of doing the whole one night stand thing.

All this you’ve gathered from your friends, who, at one point have had some sort of encounter with Jeongguk. Dahyun’s was last spring at a club event, when he’d oh so smoothly flirted with her for a solid hour before realizing she didn’t swing that way. Which is how they become close friends, which is how, by association, Jeongguk set his sights on you.

Your introduction to Jeongguk wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; he’d been tagging along behind Dahyun like a lost puppy, begging her for some class notes, and had subsequently followed her all the way to your favorite meeting place. From then, he’d dropped his petulant, childish act and put on his macho face, chest puffed and eyes hooded as he devoured your very presence.

The next time you see him, it’s at a frat party where some guy had been harping on you go upstairs with him. Another weird thing about Jeongguk, he hated when other fuckboys didn’t utilize their brains. You assume it’s because it gives the fuckboy community a bad rep as a whole, but Jeongguk hated when guys were overbearing. So he’d taken the initiative to snatch you away from that fellow, guiding you all the way back to Dahyun and friends just to make sure you were alright. Somewhere along the way, you’d informed him you worked at the local library—”The one that does bingo on Tuesdays?” “That’s for senior citizens only, why do you know that?”—and he’d never left you alone again.

This time, he spots you in the dining hall.

“You come here often, dollface?” He says the moment he slides up beside you, instantly zeroing in on the burrito wrap on your plate. Like the little immature baby he is, his hand immediately snakes out to touch the precariously wrapped white tortilla holding the deliciousness inside, and you have to physically slap the offender away. He jumps, bumping into a girl standing in line behind him, not that particularly cares. “So, it’s fuck Jeongguk hours, huh?” He huffs, adorning his face with that uppity glare he mastered from watching Mean Girls on repeat a few months ago.

“Your plate is stacked, but you wanna grab the one thing on mine,” you point out, and his lips curl into a smile at your response. “By the way, your book is past due.”

At this he gasps, all real, no Regina George effects added. “You’re lying,” he chokes, switching his plate to his other hand, and you nearly jump when the muffin balancing dangerously on top shifts. He tugs his phone out of the pocket of his sweats, scanning through his remind app until he sees that his book is overdue by three days. He groans, staring at the ceiling in shame.

You nod, breezing over his inner meltdown. “Was wondering when we were gonna get the wedgie winner, or whatever its called, back.”

He scoffs, giving you an unimpressed glare. “Wrath of the Wicked Wedgie Woman,” he corrects, looking so disappointed that you don’t have these bizarre titles memorized. “For such a pretty librarian, you sure are ignorant to these literary masterpieces.”

This makes you cackle, and your cheeks flush when at least three people turn to stare at your outburst. “You aren’t seriously calling these Captain Underpants books masterpieces,” you snort. Jeongguk shrugs, and you begin to wonder if he really is as airheaded as the characters he admires. “Jeon,” you try to reason, giving him a pleading look, because arguing the credibility of kids novels in line for lunch simply does not seem real. You must have been warped into another dimension where all pretty boys are as dumb as the movies make them out to seem.

“Listen,” he says, smiling when you grow desperate for him to prove you wrong. “I’ve read a lot of good books, but nothing tops a hypnotized superhero principal fighting crime in his underwear.”

You sigh, paying for your meal, and then, surprisingly, waiting for him to pay for his. You tell yourself it’s because you want to finish this conversation, but part of you just genuinely enjoys being in Jeongguk’s presence. Gag.

“I saw you with Beloved last week,” you carry on the second he’s done giving flirty eyes to the middle-aged cashier. “Now that’s a masterpiece.”

He nods in agreement. “But, baby,” he purrs, and the sudden switch from weird, 12 year-old literary enthusiast to grown as hell, suave bastard has you jolting a step that you try to play off by pretending to look at something on the ground. “How else will you remember my face?”

You blank. “What the hell are you talking about.”

Jeongguk gives you a pointed look. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t remember a damn thing about me if I did what every other stuck-up bastard did trying to pick up chicks at the library.” You tilt your head in confusion. Jeongguk sighs. “If I went in every rainy Friday and checked out a Tale of Two Cities, or Oliver Twist, or some other Charles Dickens shit, you wouldn’t glance my way.”

“Do people still read Dickens?” You say instead, glossing over the fact that apparently Jeongguk’s visits were apparently blatant attempts to flirt with girls. Finally, you find a suitable spot at a long, dinner table so you don’t have to sit completely alone with Jeongguk.

“You know damn well better than I do that that those wannabe sophisticated books have waitlists.” He shoves half a pizza slice into his mouth, and you hate how your eyes immediately laser in on the strong movements of his jaw. “My point is,” he says through a greasy mouthful. “Captain Underpants isn’t glorified by all the tryhards, so when I pick those books, you’re unknowingly more interested in me.”

You cradle your burrito in your palms, rolling his words around your head for a bit. Jeongguk doesn’t particularly seem like he’s awaiting an answer, munching through the mountain of food on his plate as you revel in your thoughts.

It’s right when you go to take your first bite that you finally come to a conclusion. “But have you ever considered I’m interested in you because I think you’re funny?”

Silence. Jeongguk stares at you through his fringe, pizza slice slowly going limp in his hold as he absorbs your words. Before you know it, his ears flush red. He splutters. “I-You think I’m funny?” He asks, cheeks slowly growing rosy as well, and his lips quirk in a cute way to the side, as if he’s trying desperately to hide his excitement.

You nod, because it’s true, why would you lie? “Duh. You come in every week and just talk about your day, Jeongguk,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “I think you’re very interesting and entertaining without trying.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, and for the first time, you’re thrown off by how adorable this man looks, lips pressed tight to contain a smile from your compliments.

Realization hits you all at once, but you’ve long since trained in the fluid art of avoiding your emotions.

“There’s a party tonight,” Dahyun announces from her desk, not even bothering to glance at you when you return from the showers. You hum, not really that interested in whatever is going on this fine Thursday evening. You plop down at your own desk, starting your skincare routine.

Dahyun lets you relax in the soothing motions of self care for all of three seconds before she adds, “Jeongguk wanted to know if you’re coming.”

You press down too hard on the pump of your moisturizer, sending a large glomp onto the tips of your fingers. “That’s nice,” you say, trying to play it off, but you doubt Dahyun hadn’t heard the little spaz you had, or that she couldn’t sense the way your body immediately lit aflame at the mention of him and you in the same sentence.

She turns in her seat, and you catch sight of her in your mirror. You avert your eyes right away, because Dahyun had many talents, and her best one was reading your mind with a single gaze. You maintain an aura of unbothered and uninterested, finishing with the rest of your skincare.

Just when you think you’re safe, Dahyun pounces.

“Y’know,” she says, and you can hear the grin in her voice. “He hasn’t slept with anyone in almost a month. In fuckboy time, that’s the equivalent of two years.”

You roll your eyes, putting away your products before trying to busy yourself with anything else. “He probably has, but with people who know how to keep their mouths shut.”

Faintly, you hear Dahyun’s chair scrape against the carpet, and then suddenly she has you in a headlock. “Admit you like Jeongguk or I will throw your toothbrush into the toilet on the third floor.”

You choke, grappling her arms in an attempt to pry her off. “No,” you huff, switching tactics to tangle a hand in her silver locks. “Why would I confess to something that isn’t true?”

She shrieks when you give a sharp tug, sending her careening sideways against the foot of your bed, but not without taking you with her. “You are lying to yourself and to the entire librarian community, you sick fuck.”

You snort. “The fuck does Namjoon have to do with this?”

“He told me Jeongguk’s been bringing you Starbucks.”

Her reveal has you halting in your tracks, cheeks flushing at being exposed. “That gossiping fuck,” you seethe, finally loosening your grip on your friend. Somehow, you’ve ended up sprawled on the floor of her side of the room, nestled into the stupidly fluffy carpet she thrifted. She rolls onto her belly, propping herself up on her elbows to narrow her eyes at you.

“So it’s true,” she sighs. You shrug. “Well,” she claps her hands together. “Shimmy into that sexy dress from Windsor, we’re going out.”

You groan, rolling over in metaphorical agony. “Dude, I just washed my face. No way in hell, I’m putting on makeup now.” She considers your point for negative three seconds.

“The Glow Kit is in my bottom left drawer,” she announces right as she exits the room with her towel and shower essentials in hand.

The Glow Kit is in fact in Dahyun’s drawer, which is a little suspicious considering it’s the same one you thought you lost three months ago. Nonetheless, it never lets you down, and by the time you’re done with your makeup, you’re looking like a shimmering, little succubus in the hot dress from Windsor.

Normally, you and your self-esteem were rivals; never on the same page, always bickering, sworn enemies from birth. But right now, as you admire yourself in the closet mirror, you can’t help but marvel at how good you look in the slightly loose dress.

“Damn,” Dahyun says as soon as she returns, all fluffy in her towel. “You will fuck tonight, or else.”

“Hey, baby,” Jeongguk smiles at you the moment you walk in, hooded eyes raking over your body in an agonizingly slow manner. Dahyun chooses then to do her party trick—disappearing without a word.

“Hi…” you respond, voice meek in this party setting. There’s more people than you anticipated, which is weird because it’s a Thursday and surely some of these people have morning classes. You can’t comment, though, because you’re here knowing damn well you have an eight am tomorrow.

The music is blasting, so loud you can feel the bass shaking the floor, sending jolts up from your toes to your head with every beat. There’s people in every crevice of this household, some even taking refuge on the staircase leading up to the bedrooms. Someone brushes by you, and you instinctively step closer to the wall to avoid being in the way. You should have known Jeongguk would follow.

He ducks down to shout into your ear. “Wasn’t sure if you were coming tonight,” he tells you, right as one of his friends rushes by, thrusting a cup into his hand that Jeongguk doesn’t even stop to question. He takes a sip, then offers you some.

“Dahyun didn’t wanna come alone,” you lie, tentatively sipping from his cup only to realize it’s worse than any alcohol here: it’s Sprite. Jeongguk seems amused by your subtle disgust, immediately taking the cup back. You send out a light prayer for his stomach and his skin. “Aren’t you supposed to be out pulling hoes or something?” You say, trying to go for teasing and playful but missing by a mile.

Jeongguk grins. “Why would I do that when the only girl I want is right here,” he motions, and then does that cliche move where he places a hand by the wall behind you. The worst thing is, even though Jeongguk seems intent on pulling every cheesy act known to mankind, your heart actually races.

“Shut up,” you laugh, “you just like that I don’t charge you the late fees on your books.”

At this, Jeongguk genuinely smiles, nose scrunching up as he gazes at you. “False,” he argues, and then leans forward, same stupid dopey smile on his face. “I love a woman who snorts milk out of her nose.”

“Jeon!” You shriek, smacking his arm as embarrassment washes over you. “You said you would forget about that!”

Jeongguk cackles, all boyish and rough like he does when he’s around Hoseok for too long. Somehow, knowing you’re the cause of that charming laughter has your annoyance fading away, a soft smile crawling onto your features.

“I hate you,” you say instead, looking up and meeting his gaze dead on for the first time that night.

Jeongguk smirks. “Do you now?” He throws back, then takes a step forward. Your shoulder touches the wall when you take a tentative step back. You give a half-assed shrug, entranced by the playfulness that lurks behind his eyes. He gives you an exaggerated pout. “That sucks, because I,” he steps closer again, and this time he’s looking down at you over the bridge of his nose, “really like you.”

“I…” you trail off, too hypnotized by the pink tongue that swipes across his lips as he gazes at you. There is no hesitation on his face.

When you don’t say anything for another moment, Jeongguk ducks down. His nose bumps against yours, his breath warm as it fans across your face. “Y’know, I’d treat you so right,” he suddenly says, and your panties immediately turn into Niagara Falls at the newfound deepness of his voice. You feel lightheaded from his close proximity and promising words. “Could make you feel so good, baby, if you just let me.”

You shiver, nearly jumping out of your skin when a hand snakes its way around your waist, tugging you forward gently. Not overbearingly, because you know the last thing Jeongguk would ever do was want to make you uncomfortable. He pulls you close enough that it ends up being you who steps completely into his embrace. Your trembling hands find their place on his shoulders, and Jeongguk has never looked more content.

“You... only want sex,” you softly accuse, and the only reason your quiet voice doesn’t get lost in the noise is because of how close the two of you are.

Jeongguk bites his lip at your words, and you wonder if part of him is surprised that you’d so openly say such a thing. “Not with you,” he says eventually. “Wanna hold you like this forever, ___. And if that leads to you cumming on my tongue every now and then, well,” he smiles, “all fine by me.”

“Jeon,” you scold, scared that someone might have heard him.

“What?” He grins, pressing impossibly closer. His lip gives the slightest pucker, and you find yourself unconsciously leaning closer, the hand around your waist tightening. “I want you, baby.”

You can’t hide the lovestruck expression on your face as you look between his mouth and his eyes, and you wonder if he’s being honest.

Right as you’re about to throw all your doubts out the window and kiss him, you’re bombarded with the sound of obnoxious air horns from a DJ who obviously knows shit about, well, DJ-ing.

You jump at the sudden sound, bumping your head against the wall behind you. Jeongguk’s eyes widen. “Oh shit, are you okay?” He fusses, all traces of that suave, heartthrob replaced with a fretful Jeon.

“I’m fine,” you say, though you’re not because you’re absolutely dying right now. From the fact you almost gave into Jeongguk but also the embarrassment of hitting your head. “I-I need to find Dahyun,” you announce, and give Jeongguk no time to process that before you’re bolting into the crowded house like you just broke something.

jeon tell me you got home safe jeon please

You pause in the middle of removing your makeup, one eyelash on to symbolize the mess you are right now. Dahyun is humming some tune as she does the same, the both of you clad in your pajamas and fuzzy socks. Carefully, you pick up your phone.

you im home! me and the girls ubered home lol you sorry i didnt get to say goodbye :(

jeon dont worry abt it babe jeon just happy to know ur ok

“You better be texting Jeongguk, since you failed to complete the one job you had tonight,” Dahyun calls and you curse. You whirl around to face her, and she snorts at your one eyelash.

“Be honest,” you say. “If you were the campus crush who could get coochie every time he breathed, would you leave all that for me?”

Dahyun freezes. “Well, not when you’re only wearing one eyelash.” You groan, flopping into your seat uncomfortably. “Babe,” Dahyun sighs, as if sensing the gravity of your dilemma. “You’re hot! Everyone knows this except you.”

“But am I?” You whine. “Am I attractive or do you just feel obligated to say that because you’re my friend, be honest.”

“Oh my god,” she huffs, climbing into her bed, phone in hand. She doesn’t even bother looking your way when she’s all settled in. “You have this weird idea that Jeongguk is some intangible idol, as if you haven’t seen the dude deepthroat an entire bratwurst at the diversity fair. If anything, you’re the dream girl on campus, you stupid bitch.”

“The only true thing I heard is me being a stupid bitch,” you mope, and Dahyun throws a pillow at your face. You take this attack as initiative to finally take off your other lash, finishing your cleansing and moisturizing (for the second time) routine.

“Listen,” she says, setting her phone down to stare you dead in the eye. Her voice is devoid of any emotion. “If it makes you feel better, he wrote JK + __ on our group handout last week.”

You don’t sleep that night.

The last person you’re expecting to see at this secluded cafe on a Saturday morning was Jeon Jeongguk, yet here he was in all his delicious morning glory. By morning glory, you mean the soft, sleepy eyes that stare at you from across the table, voice so deep and husky.

“Why are you here if you just woke up?” You interrogate, settling into the empty seat in front of him. Carefully, you begin pulling things out of your bag, trying your best to not look away too long. This sight was rare, Jeongguk usually being at an energy level of about eighty seven at all times. To see him so tired and sluggish was unheard of.

He gestures over to where Taehyung is in the middle of what looks like a job interview. “Moral support,” Jeongguk informs you. You nod in understanding, before returning your gaze to the sleepy angel in front of you.

He’s ridiculously tired, eyes dropping shut every time you so much as pause for a second. He seems apologetic too, murmuring I’m sorry I’m sorry whenever his eyes flutter shut. Your heart was going haywire at the sight. “Jeon,” you say softly, and get one, soft hum in response. “I think you should go home, Taehyung seems fine.”

He shakes his head. “Needs me,” he murmurs, trying desperately to snap his eyes back open to no avail. Eventually, you make the call, packing your things up way earlier than usual. You haul Jeongguk out of his seat, him sleepily trailing after you as you drag him out of the shop. He sleeps on the short bus ride back to campus, and even almost sleeps on the elevator up to his dorm.

“In we go,” you announce, unlocking his door before nudging him inside. His roommate is nowhere to be found, oddly enough given the early hour. Jeongguk stumbles inside, plopping down on his bed right away. “Sleep.”

He lets out a high pitched whine the moment you turn to leave. “Come cuddle,” he huffs, face pressed against his pillow. His hair’s haloed around him, pout smushed against the cushion as he stares at you.

“You need to sleep,” you point out.

He rolls onto his back, patting the mattress beside him. “Wanna feel you,” he says. Your cheeks flush red. As if realizing the meaning behind his words, sleepy little Jeongguk takes the initiative to push you further. “Pressed against my body,” he drawls, his deep chuckle resonating throughout your body. “C’mon, baby, too scared to be in bed with me?”

You scoff, though your cheeks are warm. “You wouldn’t do anything anyway, you’re half asleep.”

Jeongguk shrugs, lips quirking to the side as he motions to his side again. “So? Can tell you like it slow anyway,” he grunts, before sitting up and shuffling to the edge of the bed and assuming a sitting position. Without warning, he catches your wrist in his hand and tugs you between his spread thighs.

He’s more awake than he’s been all morning, and part of you is happy but the other is anxious. God, was this boy dangerous.

“You’re half asleep, Jeon,” you say, trying to diffuse the sudden sexual tension. Jeongguk smiles up at you.

“Cmon, baby,” he exhales, and one fluid tug has you plopping onto his thigh. You startle at the sudden change, grabbing onto his shoulders for support. All he does is laugh some more, nuzzling his face against your neck as your heart goes into panic mode. “Bet I could get in so deep,” he murmurs, breath tickling your neck and you feel your legs turn to jelly.

“G-Gguk,” you try to warn, but it ends up sounding more like a plea. For what, you’re not entirely sure.

A sudden kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder has your spirit ascending into another plane. Jeongguk smiles at your pliant body. “Look at you,” he continues, kissing down your neck until your body is physically quivering. “So sensitive. No one ever touched you like this before, doll?”

You shake your head no, and nearly jump out of your own skin when a hand clasps onto the inside of your thigh. “Jeon, we shouldn’t…” you choke out, even though your traitorous hand clamps down on his and pushes it closer to where you need him most.

“We shouldn’t?” He teases, and then cups your sex.

You transcend.

Jeongguk laughs, airy chuckles fanning across your jaw. “Then stop,” he tells you, the both of you watching as your hips unconsciously grind into his palm. Even when you tell yourself you need to stop, your body feels heavenly being touched by him, so you physically can’t.

“I can’t,” you reiterate, and muffle a moan against the side of his face when he presses a finger down on where he knows your clit is hiding. The thin leggings you’d worn did nothing to spare you.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he sighs, watching you work yourself on his hand. He traces his index finger over the seam of your leggings, where your folds meet and you moan again. “You gonna let me finish you off, princess? Gonna let me finger your tight little pussy until you cry? But I bet you’d make the prettiest noises if I licked you down there. Or are you gonna cum in your panties like this?”

All the different ideas he stuffs into your brain are overwhelming, especially when the only thing you really want is to be stuffed with his fingers and cock. “J-Just do it,” you beg.

“Do what?” He plays, watching the way your face contorted with every brush against your mound.

“Whatever you want,” you cry, biting down on your fist to stop any more noises from spilling out.

Jeongguk smiles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Such a simple gesture, but it has your stomach somersaulting. God, you needed this. You were practically sobbing for his dick, which was embarrassing in itself, but actually getting dicked down sort of cancelled it out. PEMDAS or whatever. 

Just as his hand creeps to the hem of your leggings, there’s a rattle of the doorknob, and you jump. The cloud of lust that had engulfed you two fades away and you’re suddenly aware of the jingling of a key outside.

“What the fuck,” Jeongguk whisper-shouts, looking absolutely scandalized that his roommate is coming home at this moment of all moments.

“Should I hide?” You whisper back, never having been in such a situation before. Jeongguk looks at you like you’re stupid.

“Just,” he sighs, standing up. He ruffles his hair anxiously. “Just… act natural.”

You sit perfectly still. “Not like a Sim!!”

“Captain Underpants and the Invasion of the Incredibly Naughty Cafeteria Ladies from Outer Space (and the Subsequent Assault of the Equally Evil Lunchroom Zombie Nerds),” you read, gasping for breath by the end of it. Jeongguk beams at you. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Nope,” Jeongguk says, leaning over the counter and watching as you scan his book under his name. “I’ll let you know how it is.”

You roll your eyes, writing down the return date on a piece of paper you stuff inside. “Please do, I’m absolutely dying to read this book.”

You hand the book over to Jeongguk, and try to ignore the way he stares at you for a second too long. Namjoon chooses this exact moment to take his lunch break, sauntering off whistling the the Angry Birds tune.

Right before Jeongguk can jump into an interrogation, the door swings open and Jisoo from your sociology elective saunters in, carrying the same mountain of books you had checked out for her two weeks ago.

“___, hi!” She exclaims right away. She, too, was infected with the same bimbo disease as Jeongguk, the one where they both had no concept of being quiet in a library.

“Hi,” you greet back, immediately standing to take the books from her. “Did you actually read through all of these?” You ask, trying to make polite small talk. You’re not particularly close to her, but it’d be rude to act like you didn’t know her.

She laughs at your comment. “Oh god, no. I just open random pages and reference them for essays,” she admits.

You try to make more small talk with her as you scan through her books, but the girl literally almost hit the material limit, which is fifty books, so you soon become consumed in scanning the barcode, briefly flipping through the book for any damage, and then repeating it all over. You’re not surprised when she drifts away, and you’re mentally cursing Namjoon for going on break now of all times.

It’s about ten minutes later when you’re all done, the computer’s library system going haywire on you, the same way it had when she first checked out all these books. You look away from the screen, standing to face Jisoo, only to find she’s drifted to the other end of the welcome desk, where a certain someone had gone to while you served her.

Oh.

You’re not anticipating the wave of jealousy that hits you watching gorgeous, smart Jisoo talk to Jeongguk. She matches him perfectly, both so beautiful it hurts. It’s when she says something to him that you snap out of it. “When can I come over again?” Soft enough that you wouldn’t have heard if you hadn’t been paying attention.

Jeongguk’s toying with a bookmark stand, but you still see the quirk of his lips on his face when she says that.

All you can do is watch from the sidelines, so close yet somehow miles away as he says something back to her that gets drowned out by the thundering of your heart. You suppose it’s only natural for a guy like Jeongguk to flirt with girls, and he’d never said he only, exclusively wanted you. Really, you shouldn’t be as surprised.

But you are.

You’re surprised and, dare you say it, discouraged by the scene. He’d been so eager to finally win you over the other night, so much so that he made you feel special with every word he uttered and every look he gave you. You’d almost believed in his sincerity, but seeing him so easily converse with Jisoo about whatever past they have, served as a cold reminder that you and Jeongguk believe in two completely different relationship styles.

So you sit back down, gnawing on your lip as you try to do other duties, clicking around uselessly on your computer until eventually, Jisoo wanders back.

“Am I all set?” She smiles, and you can’t even find it in you to dislike her. You plaster on your best customer service smile, nodding and handing her back her library card. She thanks you three times over for the hassle, before waving goodbye to you and Jeongguk.

When the door falls shut behind her, you immediately drop the facade, though Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice. “Whew. She left a lot of work for you,” he laughs, eyeing the big stack beside you. You don’t even bother responding, as, at that moment, Namjoon returns from his lunch break.

(How convenient! You swear this fucker had a sixth sense for knowing when work was about to become hard.)

“Joon, I’m taking my break now,” you announce, and Namjoon stares at you like a deer in headlights, the last bite of a sandwich raised to his mouth.

“Uh,” he says, 140 IQ and all. He glances behind you at Jeongguk, who also is confused as all hell. “Okay, then.”

“___?” Jeongguk questions. You stalk off, pushing the gate away from the desk before bursting into the employee break room right across from it.

You cry the moment you get home, and Dahyun jumps ten feet out of her bed in shock. Her girlfriend, Momo, is sitting on the floor painting her toes. “Oh no,” she cries, sweet and understanding in all the ways Dahyun wasn’t. “My poor baby, what’s wrong?” She asks, waddling over in the my-nail-polish-hasn’t-dried-yet way to hug you.

“He was flirting with another girl,” you sob, dropping your bag by the door as Momo continues fawning over you, wiping your face with tissues. Dahyun gets out of bed, cracks her fingers, and promptly announces:

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Initially, you would have let her. But after a while you manage to calm down, loud Kim Kardashian sobs fading into tiny hiccups as the two of them coddle you. You tell them all about what terrible, good for nothing Jeongguk did, and in true female solidarity, they vow to kick his ass for you. Eventually, you settle on not whooping his ass, just cutting any romantic notions with him off to avoid further heartbreak. After all, you were kinda friends before you had your little crush revelation.

It’s later in the night when you announce you maybe got 2% over him, which the girls count as an absolute win, but then Jeongguk texts you and they groan at the way you jump for your phone.

jeon hey can we talk ? jeon did I do something wrong today? jeon felt like u were mad at me lol, and then u took a really long break and I had to leave for class so I didn’t even get to see u again jeon just wanna know if everything is ok

You read through the messages a couple times, and wonder if he’s being serious and didn’t see anything sus with his actions, or if he’s just toying with your emotions. Momo tugs Dahyun away to give you some sort of privacy, and then you’re left alone in your thoughts.

you everything’s fine ! you I just wasn’t feeling well lol

He responds right away.

jeon please don’t lie to me ___ jeon I know what you’re probably thinking and I just want to say it’s not like that

For some reason, him saying he knows you enough to know your thoughts irritates you. He obviously didn’t know shit about you if he was out here making you look like a clown. Your fingers type before you can even think.

you lmao you thats funny

jeon ?

you you most def do not know what I’m thinking so please just take my word when I say I felt sick

jeon lmao. what do you mean...

you you barely know ME besides the fact I work @ the library and dorm w Dahyun. don't say u know what I’m thinking, bc that would imply you know me on a closer level which you don’t

jeon ok seriously what's up with you?  jeon im trying to make sure ur okay but ur just being difficult as fuck

you I’m not being difficult I’m just being real

jeon ur not tho, ur being defensive for no reason at all

you so? we’re barely friends and we barely know each other, how I feel is none of ur business

jeon lmfaoooo, so now we’re barely friends?

you thats what I said didnt I

You set your phone aside when you don’t immediately see the texting dots appear, assuming your dry response is probably enough to ward Jeongguk off. Your face feels warm, and you’re not sure if it’s from frustration or anger, but you guess it’s both. You’re not sure what set you off, the fact Jeongguk wants to act like he knows you, as if he wasn’t just chasing after you for some pussy, or the fact he wanted to act like some all-knowing being when it came to your feelings.

Eitherway, you’re extremely heated, grinding your teeth together when five minutes pass and he hasn’t texted you back. As if sensing the tension, Momo and Dahyun abruptly announce that they’re going to the ice cream place down the street, offering to bring something back to which you decline.

They leave, the heavy door slamming shut behind them. You get exactly two seconds of peace and quiet before your phone starts going off like crazy, all from Jeongguk.

jeon you’re starting to piss me off jeon drop the attitude baby. jeon bc I can be just as mean as u jeon and I won’t hesitate to make you cry

You blink. Every ounce of your body that had been consumed with an unknown anger slowly fades away as you stare wide eyed at Jeongguk’s messages. This was nothing like the Jeongguk you knew; he was soft and playful. He never raised his voice at you, and he’d never been anything less than a sweetheart.

you I don’t have an attitude

Is your feeble reply, too scared to reply to any other part of his message because you truly had no experience with this Jeongguk.

jeon so then put your big girl pants on and tell me what’s wrong jeon enough w this other shit

You sigh, snuggling into your covers as you absentmindedly tap the back of your phone.

you nothing is wrong

He doesn’t reply for a couple minutes again, but Dahyun sends you a text letting you know her and Momo decided to go to an event on the other side of campus, and telling you not to wait up. You reply back a simple ok right as Jeongguk responds.

jeon ok. so let me tell you what’s wrong then jeon you’re mad bc I was speaking to Jisoo today and she asked abt coming over jeon she comes over all the time jeon bc she is my roommates girlfriend

Your mind goes blank.

How embarrassing to have your mind read word for word, even more so when apparently, your worries weren’t even plausible. God. Instantly you feel stupid, replaying today’s entire scene and trying desperately to find something to catch Jeongguk in a lie. But other than asking that one question, there had been no other interesting talk between the two.

Your phone pings again, and you scramble to type a response, only to freeze at the words on the screen

jeon what blows me is that i don’t even owe u shit especially not an explanation jeon u don’t give 2 flying fucks about me. U just like the attention I give u and watching me make a fool of myself for u jeon I bend over backwards chasing after you, trying to get you to notice me, but you’ve done nothing to show me u feel the same jeon but you’re the one allowed to get mad when I speak to other girls? like u said “ that’s funny ”

Oh, no. Immediately your heart comes crashing down, and your fingers tremble as you watch Jeongguk slip away right before your eyes.

you Jeongguk you it’s not like that please you I like you so much, it’s just hard for me to

jeon to what? Get over your stupid stereotype of me?? jeon lmfao. Yeah that must be sooo hard jeon it’s whatever tho bc I had one of u too jeon my dream girl

This is not what you expected when he said he’d make you cry.

“Honey, you just have to talk to him,” Momo says the next morning, pressing a cucumber slice onto your eyes. You flinch at the initial iciness, but then relax when she brushes your hair out of your face. You’d gone to sleep a wreck, crying and sobbing as you thought desperately on how to win Jeongguk back, but everything he had said was true.

You’d done nothing but reject him since the beginning, had only just begun treating him as a friend, yet you instantly placed the blame on him at the first signs of trouble. God, he was right. You’d been selfish this entire time, and now he wasn’t responding to your messages anymore.

Dahyun nods from her cocoon at the foot of your bed. “I’m sure it’ll be easier in person, text convos are always weird,” she tries to comfort you. “But keep those slices on, those bags under your eyes are no joke.”

Momo smacks her calf. “Be nice! She’s going through a crisis.”

Right as you’re about to pay for your meal and sprint back to hide in your dorm, you spot a coconut head of hair facing the windows in the far corner of the dining hall. Fuck. Faintly, you can hear Dahyun’s voice shouting for you to stop being a pussy and go talk to him. You pause by the exit, one leg in one leg out, before saying fuck it. If worse comes to worse, you transfer schools and live with heartbreak and three cats for the rest of your life.

“I-Is someone sitting here?” You say before you can chicken out, and mentally curse yourself for stuttering. Oh, the social horror.

Jeongguk visibly jumps at your voice, wide doe eyes staring at you as if he expected to never see you again. After all, it’s been a week since your little fight, three days since you last tried texting him. He shakes his head, turning his attention back to his plate, but not before tugging the hoodie of his sweater over his head in a classic self defensive tactic.

You slide into the seat, staring at the plate of food like you’ve never seen it in your life, never mind the fact you picked it out less than fifteen minutes ago. You accidentally scrape your fork against the bottom, and the both of you cringe.

Jeongguk clears his throat, hands clasped together between his thighs as he stares out the window. “Don’t you have work?” He asks, voice raspy.

You shake your head. “I took the week off,” you confess, hoping he doesn’t press for more, because then you’d have to tell him your reasoning was due to heartache.

“Oh. That’s nice,” he says, and then you fall into a pit of awkward silence.

You push the food around on your plate, hoping he’ll say something, anything to save the two of you. In the end, he stays silent, sleepily glancing out the windows.

When you look closer, though, Jeongguk doesn’t look much hot than you. He’s got the same bags as you under his eyes, and his hair looks messier than his usual messy style. The fact he’s wearing his blue crocs out in public only confirms your theory.

After a solid five minutes of silence, even your hungry stomach managing to stay quiet, you decide enough is enough.

You shift ever so slightly, until you’re somewhat facing him and clear your throat; Jeongguk barely spares you a glance. “The Preposterous Plight of the Purple Potty People,” you blurt. Jeongguk blinks, face slowly morphing into one of confusion. Your cheeks feel hot under his gaze, having missed his brown eyes in the past week. “It’s your favorite one,” you announce. “Of the Captain Underpants books.”

After a moment, Jeongguk snorts, turning his attention away from you. “You’re not gonna win me over with that,” he says curtly, and your heart tightens at his emotionless tone of voice.

But you’ve done your research, and you’re not letting it go to waste. “You like George more than Harold because you think he contributes more. You love the characterization of Mr. Krupp the most, but you hate his theme song. You think the cover art could use some work, but you enjoy the overall art style. You hated the movie adaptation because Kevin Hart was in it,” you list, recalling every bit of information you’ve ever heard Jeongguk share about the stupid novels.

There’s a small quirk in the corner of Jeongguk’s lips, but it’s not the one you’re aiming for, so you switch tactics. “You hate the smell of bananas because you don’t think it should have a smell. You can’t put your left sock on first, because it’s bad luck to you. Your mom still washes your sheets for you. You know the lyrics to the original Dragon Ball series in three languages. You like wearing rings because it makes you feel like a pimp. You hate when Hoseok calls you the baby, because, according to you, you bench press his weight times two.”

“And a half,” he softly corrects, gazing at his hands, cheeks slightly tinged with red. You bite your lip, tentatively reaching a hand out to place on his arm. He looks at you right away, doe eyes so vulnerable and scared, like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

“I said we barely knew each other, but that was a lie,” you chuckle humorlessly, suddenly feeling your eyes tear up just remembering the conversation. “I know so much about you because I love listening to you talk. I love hearing your voice, and watching you wrestle with your friends, and fight with Dahyun. But I never tell you,” you bite your lip, blinking your eyes to backtrack the tears.

“And you’re right, I made you do all the work and I’m sorry, but I’m just so scared, Jeongguk,” you admit, voice cracking on his name. Your press a hand over your mouth, trying to collect yourself. Suddenly, a soft hand gently pats your thigh, and you find yourself reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “You can have anyone, Jeongguk, and you obviously know this,” you sigh. “I’m scared that I won’t be enough for you.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Jeongguk says, voice soft in the way you’ve missed so much. His hand, shaky and unsure, reaches up to brush a tear from the corner of your eye. “Look at me,” he commands, and you do. “I think we’re both stupid, because I feel like I’ve never been enough for you,” he confesses with a chuckle you try to replicate through sniffles.

Suddenly, he’s close, forehead pressed to yours. “And maybe it’s true,” he says. “You won’t be enough for me, and I’ve never been enough for you.” Your heart aches at his words. “But that’s okay,” he assures, squeezing your thigh between his fingers. “We don't have to be right now, but we can try.”

You nod, clamping down a sob. “God, I hate how optimistic you are,” you laugh, and he smiles, cupping your face in his hands.

“And I hate watching you cry,” he says, fingers wiping your cheeks. Before you can say what you’re thinking, he’s snatching the words right out of you, “yes, I know I said what I said, and I felt like such a dick typing it, I made Jimin flick my forehead right after.”

You giggle, and he beams that dreamy smile at you again. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he announces, and your heart thunders in your chest faster than the wings of a hummingbird.

And he does.

“I don’t know, I think Kevin Hart sounds great in this,” you mention, and you feel the hard scoff Jeongguk lets out from your position cradled on his chest. “It’s not the worst thing in the world,” you defend.

“You’re sick,” he says, then pauses the Captain Underpants movie to engage in your third debate of the evening. You’re barely fifteen minutes in. “You think that weirdo did George justice? How? In what world?”

“Babe, it’s just a voice actor,” you placate. “No one died because Mr. Hart voiced him.”

Jeongguk splutters. “Mr. Hart—you don’t know this man! And something did die! My hopes for a sequel!”

You shush him, pressing your index finger to his lips. “Enough complaints, Rotten Tomatoes. We won’t even finish at this rate.”

Jeongguk hits play, grumbling under his breath.

Just as you’d predicted, you don’t even make it to the halfway mark before Jeongguk’s got you on your back, plush lips working yours until they’re bruised, tongue halfway down your throat. “The mov—“ you mumble.

“Fuck Mr. Hart,” Jeongguk says, kissing down your jaw like he can’t allow himself to miss a single spot. When he reaches the collar of your shirt, he wastes no time tugging it off of you. You whine, instinctively covering your chest. “Don’t be shy,” he chuckles, “here, look-,” he tugs his sweatshirt over his head, and you’re met with the strong muscles of his abdomen and pecs, “-twins.”

You roll your eyes. “Just kiss me, Mr. Jeon,” you tease, wrapping your hands around him to bring him closer. He chokes, and mumbles something about saving that for another time.

Before you know it, he’s kissing between your thighs, soft lips producing the most erotic sounds with every smooch he gives. “Can I take these off?” he asks, one lone finger creeping beneath the hem of your panties, right where your hip is. You nod, biting your lower lip hard the moment he begins sliding them down. His hands are soft as they glide over your legs, and when he finally tugs them away from your ankles, he wastes no time nudging your legs open for him.

“Don’t just look at it,” you whine, jabbing his ribs with your foot. Jeongguk grins.

“Sorry I stare, you’re just so pretty,” he smiles, and you muffle an annoyed groan into your palms. “Gonna eat you out now,” he announces, finally, and you uncover your face to watch the way he lowers his mouth onto your throbbing pussy, pink tongue coming out to lick at your clit.

The first press of the wet muscle has your toes curling, back arched. You’d been craving this for the longest, and just as you’d expect, it’s better than any fantasy. “Right there,” you moan, reaching down to tangle a hand in Jeongguk’s wavy hair, the other fisting the pillow beneath your head.

Jeongguk absorbs all your tiny reactions, toying with your clit just how you like it. He rolls his tongue around it, making sure every part has been in his mouth at least once. When he suctions his lips around it and moans like this was getting him off, your body melts. “Fuck,” you cry out, your thighs quivering around his head. Part of you wants to slam them shut, hide from his tongue and all its devious ministrations. But the other part has never felt so good in your entire life.

When Jeongguk decides he’s pampered your swollen clit enough, he gives it one final kiss, wet and slippery. “Good?” He smiles up at you, lips slick with your juices. You nod, probably already looking fucked out. He smirks at your response, and your heart backflips in your chest, when he reaches up to knot your fingers together.

He kisses your knuckle and you whine. “How many fingers do you want?” He asks, and you blurt out the first number you can think of.

“Eight,” you choke, and immediately flush in embarrassment afterwards.

Jeongguk laughs, dropping his head to your thigh in a fit of giggles. He looks absolutely ethereal there, soft brown hair sprawled across your skin like an angel. “Smaller numbers, baby, please,” he chuckles. You shrug, so he decides for you. “How about I just use my tongue instead?” You think you might love him.

He settles back down, lips pressing against your mound one final time, before he’s diving in. You mewl right away, body becoming one with the mattress beneath you at the first brush of his tongue.

“Oh, Jeongguk,” you gasp, hands burying themselves in his scalp again. He hums in response, and the sound has every nerve in your body lighting up. His tongue prods against your folds, slowly licking his way deeper and deeper into your cunt.

The worst comes when he sighs against your pussy, literally sighs, like he’s so blessed to be there. “You’re s-so good at this,” you cry out, trembling fingers twisting his hair so tightly that you manage to pull him off just an inch. He pinches your thigh in warning, before stuffing his tongue into you again, absolutely plunging into the depths of your hole.

Just when you think he couldn’t possibly outdo this, he jolts up suddenly, nose brushing against your clit. His eyes go wide for the slightest second, as if he really hadn’t planned that, before flickering at you.

To your utter embarrassment, he takes one long whiff, eyes rolling to the back of his head in pleasure.

He pulls away from your dripping hole. “You smell so fucking good,” he informs you, spreading a fiery blush across your cheeks.

“Thanks?” You say, and he grins, shuffling onto his knees all of a sudden. You mope the loss of his tongue on your pussy, but forget about it the second he reaches for his desk and returns with a condom.

He tears the foil packet open with gentle hands, eyes weirdly zeroed in on that only. You nudge his hip, and when he meets your gaze, he instantly averts it. Like he’s suddenly shy.

Oh he was gonna be the death of you.

You tug his boxers down and get to revel in more of those bashful glances, but you soon forget about that when he grips his rock hard member in one hand, jacking it to its full potential. “Ready?” He says, one hand gripping your hip, the other his cock. You nod, and then shift up onto your elbows to watch him sink into you.

You can barely keep your eyes open, the second the tip of his cock brushes against you your eyes roll back into your head. You moan, letting yourself flop back against the mattress, chest heaving with each inch he sinks in. “Fuck, you’re big,” you cry, biting down on your fist.

Jeongguk chuckles. “Yeah?” He grunts, and then stills as he waits for you to catch your breath. He gives you exactly four seconds before he’s thrusting the remainder of the way in.

Your back arches off the bed, a high-pitched moan ripping itself out of your throat. “Jeon!”

“Relax, relax,” he croons, releasing your hip to lean over you, peppering your face in kisses. You’re heaving for air, so overwhelmed with emotions. “You’re doing so good for me, doll,” he comforts, kissing every inch of you until you regain your wits. “So wet and warm for me, you have no idea how bad I wanna just ram my cock into your tight, little pussy.”

You huff, heart still skipping by the time you grow familiar with the sheer size of his dick inside of you. When you’ve finally come back down to earth, eyes fluttering at Jeongguk, he gives you one affirmative nod before he begins really fucking you.

He starts carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll break you with one push. You’re thankful that he’s at least somewhat aware of his own bear strength, but you’d prefer if he picked up the pace. Before you can file a complaint, he’s hiking your thigh up onto the crease of his elbow, and ramming himself into you.

“Could already hear some smart ass comment coming,” he groans, snapping his hips into you with a newfound intensity. You moan, trying desperately to reciprocate some movements back.

“Wasn’t gonna say anything,” you gasp, fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders, scratching lone lines down his back. Jeongguk snorts, pushing in, and then grinding your pelvises together deliciously.

He rolls his eyes, then chooses that exact moment to capture your lips in his. You groan softly, body boneless beneath him at the gentle way he kisses you, like his entire life depends on this single kiss.

When he finally releases your lips, he’s huffing against your mouth, hips having not stopped a single time. You know he’s tired and so riled up; you’d felt the brush of his half-hard member from the moment you first laid down to watch the movie.

But Jeongguk was a gentleman, through and through. You’d felt the brush of his cock, and heard the thundering of his heart, but he hadn’t pushed you further a single time. He basked in your presence, waiting until you crept your hand beneath his shirt to finally pounce.

“I’m close,” you tell him, reaching down to toy with your clit. Jeongguk had treated it like the finest treasure earlier, but now your gentle caresses feel mediocre compared to the way he’d touched it. Jeongguk nods, the tips of his wavy hair sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck. You abandon your quest to finish yourself off and focus on brushing his hair away from his face. “You’re so good to me,” you moan, lightly picking the corner of his mouth. “Don’t deserve you.”

He rams his cock into you, the arm not holding up your thigh weakening, until he’s leaning on his forearm over you. “Don’t say that,” he chokes out, and you wonder if his orgasm is as close as yours.

A particular brush of his cock against your cervix has you seeing stars, thighs clenching around him. “Just a little bit—more,” you beg, body writhing beneath him, pushing yourself up to meet his thrusts.

“So perfect,” he praises, kissing along your jaw. “Come for me, baby.”

You nod, but not before cupping his face in your hands, and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He makes a soft little sound of surprise, smile pressed against your mouth, and the heat in your abdomen finally explodes. You disassociate for all of one second, consumed in a wave of bliss never before heard of, his pistoning thrusts working you through it.

You nearly cry from how good it feels, throwing an arm around his neck to pull him closer. You’re babbling like an idiot, saying shit you won’t remember later. What you do recall is the chuckles Jeongguk had muffled against your neck, hips never faltering as he chased his own high.

He finds it a few beats later, the muscles of his back suddenly going rigid. He moans your name, somehow making it sound like it’s the best song in the world, before his hips begin stuttering in their mission. He eventually goes slack, slumped over you without completely crushing you beneath the weight of his muscles.

By the time you’ve fully recovered, he’s sliding out of you. Right as you go to speak, he stuffs two fingers into your sensitive cunt. “Jeon!” You wail, reaching down to push him away before you come again.

He snickers. “What? It’d be a waste to let it out,” he says, letting go when he’s decided he’s done his job, popping the digits into his mouth. You groan, trying to quell the excitement that builds in your chest from watching him suck your cum off his fingers.

“You’re the worst,” you sigh, snatching his t-shirt off the edge of the bed to tug over your bare form. Jeongguk tugs his underwear back on, retrieving yours from where he’d flung them across the room. When you’re settled into the blankets again, you’re not expecting the laptop to return as well. You raise a questioning eyebrow.

Jeongguk shrugs, nestling into your chest. “Hit play, this is when Professor Poopy Pants begins attacking the city.”

[bakug0stw1nk]

Hello, everyone! This is the LONGEST TEXT EVER! I was inspired by the various other "longest texts ever" on the internet, and I wanted to make my own. So here it is! This is going to be a WORLD RECORD! This is actually my third attempt at doing this. The first time, I didn't save it. The second time, the Neocities editor crashed. Now I'm writing this in Notepad, then copying it into the Neocities editor instead of typing it directly in the Neocities editor to avoid crashing. It sucks that my past two attempts are gone now. Those actually got pretty long. Not the longest, but still pretty long. I hope this one won't get lost somehow. Anyways, let's talk about WAFFLES! I like waffles. Waffles are cool. Waffles is a funny word. There's a Teen Titans Go episode called "Waffles" where the word "Waffles" is said a hundred-something times. It's pretty annoying. There's also a Teen Titans Go episode about Pig Latin. Don't know what Pig Latin is? It's a language where you take all the consonants before the first vowel, move them to the end, and add '-ay' to the end. If the word begins with a vowel, you just add '-way' to the end. For example, "Waffles" becomes "Afflesway". I've been speaking Pig Latin fluently since the fourth grade, so it surprised me when I saw the episode for the first time. I speak Pig Latin with my sister sometimes. It's pretty fun. I like speaking it in public so that everyone around us gets confused. That's never actually happened before, but if it ever does, 'twill be pretty funny. By the way, "'twill" is a word I invented recently, and it's a contraction of "it will". I really hope it gains popularity in the near future, because "'twill" is WAY more fun than saying "it'll". "It'll" is too boring. Nobody likes boring. This is nowhere near being the longest text ever, but eventually it will be! I might still be writing this a decade later, who knows? But right now, it's not very long. But I'll just keep writing until it is the longest! Have you ever heard the song "Dau Dau" by Awesome Scampis? It's an amazing song. Look it up on YouTube! I play that song all the time around my sister! It drives her crazy, and I love it. Another way I like driving my sister crazy is by speaking my own made up language to her. She hates the languages I make! The only language that we both speak besides English is Pig Latin. I think you already knew that. Whatever. I think I'm gonna go for now. Bye! Hi, I'm back now. I'm gonna contribute more to this soon-to-be giant wall of text. I just realised I have a giant stuffed frog on my bed. I forgot his name. I'm pretty sure it was something stupid though. I think it was "FROG" in Morse Code or something. Morse Code is cool. I know a bit of it, but I'm not very good at it. I'm also not very good at French. I barely know anything in French, and my pronunciation probably sucks. But I'm learning it, at least. I'm also learning Esperanto. It's this language that was made up by some guy a long time ago to be the "universal language". A lot of people speak it. I am such a language nerd. Half of this text is probably gonna be about languages. But hey, as long as it's long! Ha, get it? As LONG as it's LONG? I'm so funny, right? No, I'm not. I should probably get some sleep. Goodnight! Hello, I'm back again. I basically have only two interests nowadays: languages and furries. What? Oh, sorry, I thought you knew I was a furry. Haha, oops. Anyway, yeah, I'm a furry, but since I'm a young furry, I can't really do as much as I would like to do in the fandom. When I'm older, I would like to have a fursuit, go to furry conventions, all that stuff. But for now I can only dream of that. Sorry you had to deal with me talking about furries, but I'm honestly very desperate for this to be the longest text ever. Last night I was watching nothing but fursuit unboxings. I think I need help. This one time, me and my mom were going to go to a furry Christmas party, but we didn't end up going because of the fact that there was alcohol on the premises, and that she didn't wanna have to be a mom dragging her son through a crowd of furries. Both of those reasons were understandable. Okay, hopefully I won't have to talk about furries anymore. I don't care if you're a furry reading this right now, I just don't wanna have to torture everyone else. I will no longer say the F word throughout the rest of this entire text. Of course, by the F word, I mean the one that I just used six times, not the one that you're probably thinking of which I have not used throughout this entire text. I just realised that next year will be 2020. That's crazy! It just feels so futuristic! It's also crazy that the 2010s decade is almost over. That decade brought be a lot of memories. In fact, it brought be almost all of my memories. It'll be sad to see it go. I'm gonna work on a series of video lessons for Toki Pona. I'll expain what Toki Pona is after I come back. Bye! 'm back now, and I decided not to do it on Toki Pona, since many other people have done Toki Pona video lessons already. I decided to do it on Viesa, my English code. Now, I shall explain what Toki Pona is. Toki Pona is a minimalist constructed language that has only ~120 words! That means you can learn it very quickly. I reccomend you learn it! It's pretty fun and easy! Anyway, yeah, I might finish my video about Viesa later. But for now, I'm gonna add more to this giant wall of text, because I want it to be the longest! It would be pretty cool to have a world record for the longest text ever. Not sure how famous I'll get from it, but it'll be cool nonetheless. Nonetheless. That's an interesting word. It's a combination of three entire words. That's pretty neat. Also, remember when I said that I said the F word six times throughout this text? I actually messed up there. I actually said it ten times (including the plural form). I'm such a liar! I struggled to spell the word "liar" there. I tried spelling it "lyer", then "lier". Then I remembered that it's "liar". At least I'm better at spelling than my sister. She's younger than me, so I guess it's understandable. "Understandable" is a pretty long word. Hey, I wonder what the most common word I've used so far in this text is. I checked, and appearantly it's "I", with 59 uses! The word "I" makes up 5% of the words this text! I would've thought "the" would be the most common, but "the" is only the second most used word, with 43 uses. "It" is the third most common, followed by "a" and "to". Congrats to those five words! If you're wondering what the least common word is, well, it's actually a tie between a bunch of words that are only used once, and I don't wanna have to list them all here. Remember when I talked about waffles near the beginning of this text? Well, I just put some waffles in the toaster, and I got reminded of the very beginnings of this longest text ever. Okay, that was literally yesterday, but I don't care. You can't see me right now, but I'm typing with my nose! Okay, I was not able to type the exclamation point with just my nose. I had to use my finger. But still, I typed all of that sentence with my nose! I'm not typing with my nose right now, because it takes too long, and I wanna get this text as long as possible quickly. I'm gonna take a break for now! Bye! Hi, I'm back again. My sister is beside me, watching me write in this endless wall of text. My sister has a new thing where she just says the word "poop" nonstop. I don't really like it. She also eats her own boogers. I'm not joking. She's gross like that. Also, remember when I said I put waffles in the toaster? Well, I forgot about those and I only ate them just now. Now my sister is just saying random numbers. Now she's saying that they're not random, they're the numbers being displayed on the microwave. Still, I don't know why she's doing that. Now she's making annoying clicking noises. Now she's saying that she's gonna watch Friends on three different devices. Why!?!?! Hi its me his sister. I'd like to say that all of that is not true. Max wants to make his own video but i wont let him because i need my phone for my alarm.POOP POOP POOP POOP LOL IM FUNNY. kjnbhhisdnhidfhdfhjsdjksdnjhdfhdfghdfghdfbhdfbcbhnidjsduhchyduhyduhdhcduhduhdcdhcdhjdnjdnhjsdjxnj Hey, I'm back. Sorry about my sister. I had to seize control of the LTE from her because she was doing keymash. Keymash is just effortless. She just went back to school. She comes home from school for her lunch break. I think I'm gonna go again. Bye! Hello, I'm back. Let's compare LTE's. This one is only 8593 characters long so far. Kenneth Iman's LTE is 21425 characters long. The Flaming-Chicken LTE (the original) is a whopping 203941 characters long! I think I'll be able to surpass Kenneth Iman's not long from now. But my goal is to surpass the Flaming-Chicken LTE. Actually, I just figured out that there's an LTE longer than the Flaming-Chicken LTE. It's Hermnerps LTE, which is only slightly longer than the Flaming-Chicken LTE, at 230634 characters. My goal is to surpass THAT. Then I'll be the world record holder, I think. But I'll still be writing this even after I achieve the world record, of course. One time, I printed an entire copy of the Bee Movie script for no reason. I heard someone else say they had three copies of the Bee Movie script in their backpack, and I got inspired. But I only made one copy because I didn't want to waste THAT much paper. I still wasted quite a bit of paper, though. Now I wanna see how this LTE compares to the Bee Movie script. Okay, I checked, and the Bee Movie script is 50753 characters long. Not as long as some of the LTEs I mentioned, but still longer than mine and Kenneth Iman's combined. This LTE is getting close to 10000 characters! That means it'll be half the length of Kenneth Iman's LTE. That's pretty exciting. Also, going back to the topic of the Bee Movie Script, I tried to write the entire thing out by hand once. But I never finished it, especially since I'm focusing on this thing now. Maybe I should write this LTE out by hand. Nah, I don't think I will. Yay, we're at 10000 characters! Let's celebrate by talking about MUSIC! Music is cool. That concludes our celebratory discussion about music. Thank you, and have a good rest of your day. Hi, I'm back now, and I got a book! It's a dictionary for a language called Elefen. It's like Esperanto, but better. Now I can learn Elefen even without internet! That's pretty cool. I will now write something in Elefen. See if you can understand it! Here goes: Si tu pote leje esta, tu es merveliosa! Elefen es un lingua multe fresca! Did you understand that? Maybe you can't speak Elefen, but you still understood that because of your knowledge of other languages. Elefen is cool because it's an actual language, not an English code like Pig Latin or Viesa. Oh, I forgot to mention that my sister is back from school. She's blasting Rhett and Link songs right now. Have you seen that picture of Rhett and Link standing with a bunch of *******? Sorry, I almost said the F word there. That would've broken my rule of not saying the F word. I wrote something in Elefen, so I will also write something in Toki Pona. See if you can understand it now! sina sona e toki mi la sina pona mute a! I can speak Toki Pona fluently, by the way. It's also a pretty cool language. My sister is still playing annoying songs. It's hindering my focus right now. But it's fiiiiine. Okay, luckily she's run out of songs to play. At least for now. She's trying to think of another annoying song to play. Now she's playing a song by Green Day. Not NEARLY as bad as the other songs she just played. I should go for now. Goodbye! Hello, I'm back once again. I don't know why I feel obligated to say that every time I come back. But I'll keep doing it anyway. My sister stopped blasting annoying songs, so that's good. She's cooking something in the microwave. I'll go check to see what it is right now. Nevermind, it's already done cooking. Right, I remember! It's mac and cheese! Now she just started singing "I have a tongue, you don't, because I cut it off yesterday". I don't know what goes on in her mind when she does stuff like that. I've been messing around with my Elefen dictionary for a while, looking up whatever random words I can think of. By the way, the whole reason I'm doing this longest text ever is because of pointlesssites.com. That's how I found the Flaming-Chicken LTE, which inspired me to start writing this LTE. So thanks, pointlesssites.com! I check that website every day to see what new pointless websites they add. You know, I could double every letter I type so that this text would be twice as long as it normally would be. But nah, that's kinda cheating. So I won't. Also, SUBSCRIBE TO PEWDIEPIE! There, I did my part. Not that anyone will read this, but still. 'Twould be nice if you subscribed to PewDiePie. That's another word I invented. Actually, I looked it up, and I didn't invent it. Someone came up with it before I did. That's pretty sad. Also, LEARN VIESA TODAY! IT WILL CURE YOUR DEPRESSION! Seriously though, learn Viesa. It won't actually cure your depression, but I'm desperate for speakers. I only have one other person to speak it with. I should go now. Goodbye. Hi, I’m back. I just came up with an idea: SIMPLIFIED ENGLISH! Or, in Simplified Engish: Simifid Enis. It’s where every group of consonant letters is reduced to the first consonant in that group of consonants, and same goes with the vowels. If a word ends up being just a single consonant with no vowel, put ‘a’ at the end. So “I like eating my waffles” becomes “I like etin ma wafes”. Isn’t it the most amazing thing ever? Nah, it’s not quite as amazing as Viesa. Actually, Viesa isn’t a real language, so it’s less amazing then Elefen and Toki Pona, both of which are cool languages. I kinda figured that half of this text would be about languages. Oh well. I just really want this to be the longest text ever, without using copy and paste, keymash, etc. If you remember, my sister did a little bit of keymash in this text a while ago. I would’ve deleted it, but nah, I didn’t feel like it. And besides, it’s not like it took up half this text. I have an estimate for how long it’ll take me to be the world record holder: about one month. I think I can manage one month of writing this. You know what? I’m just gonna break my rule of not saying the word “furry”. There, I said it. Now I’m allowing myself to write “furry” whenever I want. So with that out of the way, let’s talk about how I first became a furry. For some reason, I have the exact date when I became a furry memorized. It’s May 4, 2018. At that time, I discovered that I was a furry by watching some furry YouTube videos. I knew about the existence of furries years before this, but I didn’t know much about it until this time. I said to myself, “You know what? I’m a furry now,” and that’s what started it all. And I’ve been slowly learning more about the fandom ever since. I would like to participate more in the fandom when I’m older, but I’m too young for most of it right now. Guess I’ll just have to wait. But in the meantime, I can write about it in this text. I should sleep now. Goodnight. Hello, I'm back once again. Happy Pi Day! I memorized a bunch of digits of Pi once, not sure how many I still remember... I have literally nothing to write about now. I've been trying to come up with something for the past 10 minutes, and I still have no idea. Literally nothing is happening right now. It's pretty boring. My sister is watching Friends, as usual. Okay, since there's nothing for me to write about, I should go now. Bye! Wow, it has been a while since I last added to this. It is now July 10, 2019. Last time I edited this page was Pi Day, which was March 14. Those 4 months of this thing being untouched end today! Wait... 4 months? That means I was supposed to get this past the world record three months ago. Oh well. I have put many things into this text. A lot of them were cringy, like how I keep mentioning furry-related things. You know, I should stop putting things in here when I know I'm gonna cringe at them later. I'll try not to do that from here on out. I just know I'll fail though. I'd hate to be aware of someone reading this entire thing... like, if I had to sit and watch a family member or something read this entire text, I would cringe so hard. I would not want that to happen. I am currently pasting the entirety of the FlamingChicken LTE onto a page on OurWorldOfText. The frustrating thing about pasting stuff there is that it pastes one letter at a time, so it takes forever to paste long text. And when the tab isn't open, I'm pretty sure it just stops pasting, so you have to keep the tab open if you want it to continue. Why am I even doing this? No idea. I might not even paste the whole thing. I probably won't. Hey, I just had a thought. What if, in the future, students are reading this for a class assignment? What if this LTE becomes part of the school curriculum? If so, hi future student! I hope you're enjoying reading my CRINGE. What is my life coming to? That's enough writing for now. Goodbye. Hey again. Might as well continue writing in here for a bit. Hey, have you ever heard of 3D Movie Maker? It's a program from the 90s (that still works on modern computers) where you can make 3D animated movies. It's pretty cool. I've made a few movies with it myself, and many other people use it to make interesting stuff. In case you want to try it for yourself, I'm sure if you google "3dmm download" or something like that, it will take you somewhere where you can download the program. It's kinda aimed at younger children, but hopefully that doesn't stop you from making absolute masterpieces with this program. I have a keyboard in my room (the musical kind, not the one you type words on), and I don't really know how to play it properly, but I do it anyways. I can play a few songs on the piano (albeit with weird fingering because like I just said, I have no idea what I'm doing), including HOME - Resonance and PilotRedSun - Bodybuilder. You might not know one or both of those songs. If you don't know one of them, why not google it? You will have discovered some new music, and it will all be because of me. Why are you reading this, anyways? How did you even find it? Were you like me, and you were browsing pointlesssites.com, eventually finding the FlamingChicken LTE and going down a rabbit hole of discovering random LTEs? Literally the only reason I'm writing this right now is because that happened. I just discovered a new LTE: the RainbowFluffySheep LTE. I'm gonna see how many characters long it is. 75,957 characters. Pretty long, but not as long as the top two LTEs (FlamingChicken and Hermnerps, both with around 200,000 characters). I wanna write as much as possible into this text today. I'm gonna see how much LTE-writing I can do in one day. Hopefully it's a lot, because I wanna hold a world record! Imagine having a world record. Well, would it really be a world record? Because I don't know of any world record books that have "Longest Text Ever" as a record. Oh well, I just hope this LTE passes exactly 230,634 characters. That's all my goal is. I'm not even a tenth of the way there yet, but give it a month and I'm sure I'll get there. Hey, remember last time I said it would only take a month? That was four months ago. I should just stop promising things all together at this point. Forget I said anything about that. Did you know my sister has an LTE? That's right! It's not very long, though, and you can't read it because it's on her phone. She made it while bored at the library. That library was where I used to have web design classes. Those were fun, but I don't do them anymore. Now all I do it sit at home and write stuff in here. Well, I'm exaggerating. I go to the convenience store with my sister sometimes. But that's pretty much it outside of being bored on a computer. I should be a less boring human being. One day, I should translate this entire LTE into Viesa. That would be a big waste of time, even bigger than writing the LTE itself. But I could still do it. I don't think I ever will. This text is simply too long, and it'll be even longer than that by the time I pass 230,634 characters. By the way, if you think I'm gonna stop writing this once I pass 230,634 characters, you're wrong! Because I'll keep writing this even after I pass that point. It'll feel nice to be way ahead the record. My sister's alarm clock has been going off for half an hour and I haven't turned it off. Why? Because LAZYNESS! Actually, I really should turn it off now. There, I turned it off. First when I tried to turn it off, it started playing the radio. Then I tried again, and it turned off completely. Then I hurt myself on the door while walking out. So that was quite the adventure. I'm gonna go sleep now. Goodnight! Hey, I'm back again. My computer BSOD'd while writing this, so I have to start this section over again. That's why you save your work, kids! Before I had to start over again, I was talking about languages. Yes, I decided to bring that topic back after a while. But I no longer want to talk about it. Why? Because it'll probably bore you to death. That is assuming you're reading this at all. Who knows, maybe absolutely zero people will read this within the span of the universe's existence. But I doubt that. There's gotta be someone who'll find this text and dedicate their time to reading it, even if it takes thousands of years for that to happen. What will happen to this LTE in a thousand years? Will the entire internet dissapear within that time? In that case, will this text dissapear with it? Or will it, along with the rest of what used to be the internet, be preserved somewhere? I'm thinking out loud right now. Well, not really "out loud" because I'm typing this, and you can't technically be loud through text. THE CLOSEST THING IS TYPING IN ALL CAPS. Imagine if I typed this entire text like that. That would be painful. I decided to actually save my work this time, in case of another crash. I already had my two past attempts at an LTE vanish from existance. I mean, most of this LTE is already stored on Neocities, so I probably won't need to worry about anything. I think I might change the LTE page a little. I want the actual text area to be larger. I'm gonna make it a very basic HTML page with just a header and text. Maybe with some CSS coloring. I don't know. Screw it, I'm gonna do it. There, now the text area is larger. It really does show how small this LTE is so far compared to FlamingChicken or Hermnerps. But at least I made the background a nice Alice Blue. That's the name of the CSS color I used. It's pretty light. We're getting pretty close to the 1/10 mark! That's the point where we're one tenth of the way to making this the longest text ever, meaning all I have to do is write the equivalent of everything I've already written so far nine more times! Not gonna make any promises, though. How come every time I try to type "though", it comes out as "thought"? Why do I always type the extra T? It's so annoying that I have to delete the T every time. Okay, only mildly annoying. Not as annoying as I previously described. I apologize for my exaggeration of the annoyance level of me typing "thought" instead of "though". I just realized that most of the games I play are games that I've been playing for at least six years. I started playing Garry's Mod in 2013, Minecraft in whatever year version 1.2.3 came out. Now I have to look that up. March 2, 2012. So I started playing Minecraft approximately during that time. Wow, seven years ago! Coincidentally, I was also seven years old then. I remember the days of 2012-13. That was when I still played Roblox and made terrible YouTube videos. I was called "Infinite Budgets" back then. I also remember the days of 2016. A lot of people thought that was a terrible year, but for me personally, it brings me a lot of nostalgia because I talked a lot with my online friend at the time, and I did livestreams on YouTube and stuff. It was fun. 2016 was also when I got the phone that I still have to this day. Yup, my phone is three years old. My life was completely different when I got this phone: I was 11 years old, my YouTube channel actually had activity, and I wasn’t writing this text. I’m currently writing this in the car. We are on out way to the dollar store. And since I’m writing this on my phone, I’m making a lot more typos than usual. Some of them might make it through, so be prepared for that. Anyways, we appear to be getting close to the dollar store. I have a gift card for that place. I think so anyways, it might be for a different store... Yup, this dollar store is different. Oh well. My sister has an obsession with sponges. I’m sure she’s gonna find the sponges and go crazy over them. Why does she like sponges so much? No idea. She just found a bag of tiny baby dolls, and she wants to put them in ice cubes and call it “Ice Ice Baby”. She is truly a strange human being. My sister also has an obsession with stuffies. She has such an addiction, that she’s banned from them. Now she found the wigs and she’s considering buying one. She’s been looking at them for quite a while now. We’re out of the dollar store, and now we’re going to the computer store. I have no idea why we’re here. I guess we just are. Now we’re going home. Welp, that was a fun adventure. Stay tuned for more fun adventures as you read through this LTE. I should go now. Bye! Hello again. I made a private world on OurWorldOfText for my sister and I, but she doesn't want to join it. She doesn't think it'll be fun. Now I'm just editing it alone. How sad. But oh well. Now I’m here adding more to this text. I once made a Discord server specifically for a language called “Bo”, where the only word is “bo”. I made it almost four months ago, and somehow, it’s still going. People are still spamming nothing but “bo” there. It’s great. I also once made a server where you’re not allowed to use any vowels. It was a very strange server. I deleted it after some time though, so all that insanity is no more. I also used to own a Pig Latin server, but it got inactive so I deleted that too. We had some good memories in that server though. Now there’s a new Pig Latin server, but it’s not owned by me. Dang, my YouTube channel has been dead for so long. I haven’t posted a video in a year. I want to revive it, but I don’t know what to post there. I’ll figure it out. I doubt my channel will ever go back to it’s 2016 legacy, but I’m sure I’ll post something eventually. Random fact of the day: there are thirty-nine question marks so far in this text. Am I about to make it forty? Yes, I just did. Now the fact I initially stated is no longer true. Or is it? Because I said “so far” in the fact, that implies that we’re talking about the moment that fact was said, disregarding any future events. Now I’m pretty sure that fact is still technically true. Welp, I guess I should just accept that I’m editing that world of text alone for the rest of my life. I originally put a bunch of complaining in there, but I deleted it all. The thing is, now that world will never be same without all of that complaining about my sister not being here. But that’s fine. Hey, I just had a cool realization. Basically, there’s this conlang (constructed language, for those not in the know) server where we have a Sentence of the Week activity. In this activity, someone posts a text with a maximum of nine sentences, then people translate it into their own conlangs. My realization is this: if we take nine sentences from this LTE every week, there would be a whole year of sentences for people to translate. There are approximantly 523 sentences in this LTE. Divide that by 9 sentences each week, and you get 58 weeks worth of sentences, which is approximantly the number of weeks in a year. Quick maths. I actually suck at math, but that’s besides the point. I should go now. Goodbye! Hello, I’m back again. I really need to come up with different hello and goodbye messages, because I’ve already said “Hello, I’m back again” once before. Same with the “I should go now. Goodbye!” I said at the end of the previous section. I was going to explain what a “section” is, but I’m terrible at explaining things, so I’m not going to anymore. I guess you’ll just have to figure it out yourself. It’s probably not very hard to figure out, anyways. I guess I can just say that a section starts with me saying hello, and ends with me saying goodbye. That should be enough explaination, now that I think about it. Hey, do you ever feel like you never have any idea what you’re talking about? That’s my entire life. I just summarized it all in one sentence. On an unrelated note, I feel like half this LTE is just me talking about the LTE itself. I mean, press CTRL+F on this webpage, then type “LTE”. Look at all the times I use it in this text! Not counting the ‘lte’ in the word ‘multe’, of course. Dang, now the search results will include that, too. Anyways, half of this text is just me talking about how I’m trying to get this text to be the longest. Well, the longest LTE, anyways. I still have a long way to go. I’m only 12.7% of the way there. I mean, minus the four month gap, my estimation is that I’ve only been writing this for not even two weeks. So it makes sense that this LTE isn’t very long yet. Whenever I look at this webpage, it looks long at first glance, but the longer I look at it, the more I realize how short it actually is. It’s something that I can’t explain. For real this time. I just realized that none of this is helping the fact that half this LTE is about the LTE itself. I should bring up a new topic, but I don’t feel comfortable talking about much else. Why? Because, like I said, I never have any idea what I’m talking about. Most of this LTE is just me talking about LTEs or languages. Sometimes furries, but I don’t wanna go back into that territory at this point. But it doesn’t matter, because I’m still gonna write this LTE for as long as possible, even if it means talking about the same things half the time. Also, LEARN VIESA! Haven’t said that in a while, so I might as well bring it back. The documentation for Viesa is on this very website, so go ahead and read it! You might need to know some linguistic knowledge to understand it, though. In fact, you probably won’t understand most of it unless you know some amount about lingusitics, so you have been warned. If Viesa is too much for you, Pig Latin will probably be better for you. If it's so easy that kids can learn it, you can too! It's a language you can learn in probably five minutes, so why not give it a try? You may also enjoy Ubbi Dubbi, where you place 'ub' before every vowel sound. It's also a very easy language to learn, although not quite as popular. The thing is, none of these are even real languages. They're just codes, and very simple codes at that. You could probably crask Pig Latin or Ubbi Dubbi rather easily. Viesa too, actually. But I still enjoy them occasionally, even if Pig Latin and Ubbi Dubbi are inefficient and easy to crack, and Viesa is easy to crack yet unneccesarily difficult. I do make real languages, but I never put in the effort to learn them to fluency. At least I make them at all. Here’s a fun game: I will open up a random page from a book, and tell you the first word I see. English. That’s the word. Stay tuned for more fun games as you read through this LTE. We’re back, and we’re gonna play the same game as before. Ready? Subject. Now we’re gonna do it again. Reading. And again. Itself. Constituent. Grammar. Colloquial. Black. Outline. Add. About four of those words were language related. You’ll never guess why! (Spoiler alert: it’s a conlanging book). I’m running out of ideas now. I’m just gonna generate a random word and try to talk about it. Forbid. That’s the opposite of “allow”, I’m pretty sure. I don’t really know what else to say. Well, I guess I failed at generating a topic I could talk about. You know what's weird? My favorite word hasn't been used once in this entire text. I'm about to change that forever. Epic. Yup, my favorite word is "epic". I use it on a regular basis. I say "That's epic" all the time. It's a word I can't live without. Hey, I've now written more of this text after the 4 month gap than before it! Just thought I'd share that fact. Also, I'm gonna try and write as much as possible in this LTE today. I've already written more today than the day I first said I was gonna write as much as possible, so that's a good sign. The thing is, I don't know what to write about. I need to write about something, otherwise I won't write at all and I won't accomplish my goal. Wait, what goal should I set? How many characters should I write today? I'm gonna try and get 10,000 characters. I've already written almost 5,000 today, so from here I just have to write the equivellant of everything I've already written today. I'm just gonna try it and see if I make it. Maybe sometime in the future I'll do a bigger goal, like 15,000 or even 20,000 in one day. Actually, I don't know if 20,000 would even be possible for me. It might be, but it sounds like somewhat of a stretch for me to write that much in a single day. We'll see how long 10,000 takes, though. I'm already doing a bad job at this. I haven't typed anything here in several minutes. I need a topic. Um, Vabungula, I guess? Basically, it's a conlang created by Bill Price in 1965. It amazes me how one can work on a single conlang for that long. Most of the conlangs I start making die after 15 minutes. Anyways, I really like it because... um, I don't know, actually. There's not really anything about it that's super interesting (other than how long it's existed), it's just his personal conlang. Maybe it's the amount of development that went into it. It has over 5,000 dictionary entries and several texts written in the language. I'm sure most people reading this don't care about my language related talk, but I gotta make this long. I'm desperate to reach my 10,000 character goal. I've got 4,000 to go. I just found a website that generates random art from a seed. I just put this entire text as the seed, and it generated something quite nice. I would put the picture here, but I want this LTE to be nothing but text, so I won't do that. I've been playing with this for a while now. Many of the seeds produce boring pictures, but some of them are nice. For example, I just used "e" as the seed and it produced a nice looking picture. "a" looks nice too, arguably nicer. I've been using nothing but the word "nice" to describe these pictures. Maybe it's time to get a bigger vocabulary? "b" looks, um, good? I don't have the right vocabulary for this. I also don't feel like doing every single letter, because the pictures take some time to generate. But if you want to do it for yourself, just go to random-art.org and try it out! By the way, this is another website I found through pointlesssites.com. You know, the same website that lead me to the FlamingChicken LTE, which lead me to begin writing this whole thing. But what made me discover pointlesssites.com? Vsauce mentioned it. But what made me discover Vsauce? YouTube Reccomendations, probably. But what made me discover YouTube? As far as I remember, my dad showed it to me when I was 6. So I would like to thank my dad for being the reason I started writing this. He's the one who showed me YouTube, which reccomended me Vsauce, which mentioned pointlesssites.com, which brought me to the FlamingChicken LTE, which inspired me to start my own LTE. If he had never shown me YouTube, I wouldn't be here writing this text, and you wouldn't be reading it. Well, that's probably not true, because I probably would have discovered YouTube by other means, thus leading me to Vsauce, leading me to Vsauce, leading me to pointlesssites.com, leading me to the FlamingChicken LTE, leading me to... okay, I really need to stop now. I've gone too far. But you know what I haven't gone too far with? This LTE. I don't think I even can go too far with writing this text. Unless this text gets so long that it surpasses the 1GB storage limit of Neocities. In which case, I'll need to upgrade to Supporter in order to get a 50GB storage limit. But what if the text gets so long that is surpasses that? I don't think I'll ever make it there. I mean, 50GB is about 50 trillion characters. So I think we're good. I still need to get to 10,000 by the end of today. I've got 1,500 to go. Currently watching a livestream. It's reminding me of when I used to livestream back in 2016. I still kinda miss those days. But at the same time, I was quite awkward and had zero social skills, so I'm not sure if I'd want to go back. At this point, everything I've written today is longer than what can fit on the screen at once. At least on my computer screen. It probably changes with different screen resolutions and devices. But anyways, it's pretty unusual for that much of the LTE to be written in a single day. I don't want to pressure myself into writing this much every day, though. Last time I forced myself to complete a certain amount of something every day, it was overwhelming and I ended up losing motivation, thus letting down all my fans who were anticipating the August 30th, 2016 release date. Okay, the amount of eager fans was probably a number you could count on one hand, but still. By the way, if you're wondering what this "something" was, it was GoAnimated Garbage: The Movie, which was supposed to be an hour long episode of a series I made to make fun of random GoAnimate videos. In case you're not the type of person who knows what GoAnimate is... hoo boy. Basically, it's a drag-and-drop animation website infamous for the "grounded videos" that people made with it, among other types of videos. It's this whole community that I neither can explain nor want to explain. But I had somewhat of an association with that community back in the day. On my YouTube channel, I used to make a genre of GoAnimate video known as the "OS video". Typically an OS video is where some sort of hated character within the GoAnimate community forcefully installs their operating system onto a user's computer, and the user has to deal with this OS until they eventually find a way to "destroy" it. I made five of these videos. In chronological order: Caillou OS, Boots OS, Franklin OS, Little Bill OS, and Crap OS X. Caillou OS is the most viewed video on my main channel, which is unsurprising since Caillou is pretty much THE character associated with the GoAnimate community. When I made that video, it was a big transition for my channel. The channel's name was changed from Infinite Budgets, which had been my name since 2013 when I made crappy Roblox videos, to Allisima. All of my old videos were deleted, with the exception of my "Barney Errors", which was yet another genre of GoAnimate video. Basically, a Barney error is when a user's computer/console/whatever session is interrupted by a "Barney Error", a message informing the user that Barney has been killed, and the device must not be turned off because it's an "important message". There's also a bomb that's placed in Barney's "lair", the timer for which is displayed in the error. The user gets some amount of "chances", and every time the device is turned off, the user looses a chance and the time until the bomb explodes decreases. Eventually, the user turns off the computer enough times that there are no more chances left, the bomb explodes, and some sort of punishment happens. These punishments can range from having to downgrade your operating system, to having your computer destroyed, and in extreme cases, even to death. I once made a whole channel for Barney Errors, where I made about twenty of them before quitting. After that, I eventually quit GoAnimate all together, but I still made Crap OS X, an OS video made with Powerpoint. I also made an interactive OS parody called Windows Poop Editon, again with Powerpoint. Before that, I also made one called "Atch OS" using my old Windows XP netbook. I just checked to see if my old Weebly website still exists, since there's an Atch OS download on there and I wanted to see if it dissapeared from existence or not. Appearantly it does! I'm getting so much nostalgia from this website. It's like a window into 2016, when I had fun making these videos on a regular basis. I'm way past my 10,000 character goal now. I'm kinda glad I set this goal, but again, I'm not gonna force myself to do it everyday. I think I'm gonna stop writing for today. Bye! Hey, I'm back. Yes, that hello wasn't original either, since I already said it once. Specifically, after my sister seized the LTE and started spamming. You remember that, right? I hope you read through this whole thing instead of just picking a random part (which just happened to be this part) and reading only a tiny bit. Nah, I'm just kidding. Read this text however you want to, it doesn't matter if you read this entire text from start to finish or not. I mean, I did put some cringy stuff in here, as I keep mentioning. But it's on the Internet, and since recently, on my homepage, so I know people are gonna read it. Really the only reason I'm making this is because I have a weird obsession for writing giant walls of text. Guess what? I just added translations of this LTE into various conlangs on my website! But they're all very incomplete, and I probably won't finish them ever... I mean, if I'm gonna finish any of them, 'twill probably be the Viesa translation since it's the easiest to do. Hey, 'twill's back! I remember the very beginnings of this LTE, when I first mentioned 'twill. That was 40,000 characters ago. Appearantly I'm measuring time with characters now. Hey, what's the average amount of text I write per day in this LTE? The four month gap probably significantly drops that amount. Let's see! The trouble is finding out when I started writing this LTE, because I don't know the exact date. I'm just gonna estimate that it was March 12, based on the amount of times I said goodnight before I said "Happy Pi Day". It's not a very accurate measurement, though, because sometimes I stop writing for the day without saying goodnight. But anyways, from March 12 to today, July 16, is 127 days. As of that previous sentence, there are 42,549 characters in this LTE. 42,549 characters divided by 127 days equals about 335 characters per day. That's not very much at all. To get an idea of how short that is, the first 335 characters of this LTE consist of about 64 words and 8 sentences. As I predicted, the four months of no activity had a big impact on this number. But what if we ignore the 4 month gap, which was from March 15 to July 9, I've only been working on this LTE for ten days. 42,549 characters divided by 10 days is about 4254 characters. That's much better. It might be that big because of the 12,600 characters I wrote yesterday. I said I wouldn't do it every day, but honestly, I'm feeling like doing a goal again today. I think I might even go a bit higher than yesterday. Let's do 15,000 characters! I have zero life outside of this LTE, anyways, so I think I'll make it. As long as I keep typing about random stuff for the entire day, I'll probably get past 15,000 easily. I think I'm insane. Literally all I do anymore is write this LTE. My mom is almost certainly concered for me, because I was in my room pretty much all of yesterday and my sister told her about how I'm trying to write the longest text ever. But enough about my descent into insanity for now. Let's get this LTE to over 55,000 characters today! This is probably the most meta LTE in existence. Like I've said, I talk about the LTE itself as much, if not more than anything else. By the way, if I were to write as much as I did yesterday every day, I would reach my goal in just 15 days. Now I'm tempted to do that, even though I said I wouldn't set a goal like that every day. I think I might end up doing it subconciously. I kinda wanna convince some other people I know online to start their own LTE. Wouldn't it be fun if we all had our own LTEs? They would probably all die within a day, but at least I wouldn't be the only one writing an LTE in 2019... The most recently updated LTE I've seen is the RainbowFluffySheep LTE, which I believe was last updated in late 2018. That wasn't really that long ago, but still, I don't think it's being updated anymore. Now let's do an LTE Timeline! The original FlamingChickens LTE was probably started sometime in 2004, and Hermnerps was started the same year. The FlamingChickens LTE stopped in 2005, while the Hermnerps LTE actually lived on until 2009, although edits after the end of 2004 were rather sparce. The Kenneth Iman LTE was started in 2013 and was last updated in 2015. The RainbowFluffySheep LTE both started and was last updated in March 2018. And of course, the WhileTrue LTE was started in March 2019 and is still being updated today. Wow, 15 years of LTEs! I think my LTE is the only one still being updated. It would be nice if someone else was writing their own LTE along with me. But 'twill be hard to convince other people to waste their lives writing a useless wall of text. You never know, maybe an LTE that stopped being edited years ago will come back from the dead. That seems kind of unlikely though. Very strange fact incoming. A certain word has not been used since the very beginning of this text. Ready to learn what it is? I shouldn't tell you, actually. Of course, that would ruin it. Unless you want me to ruin a really cool fact. Surely you wouldn't want that to happen. Okay, I'll just tell you, because I'm probably gonna end up using it again someday or another. The word is "various". If you search for "various" in this LTE, you'll only find it at the very beginning as well as here. And I was gonna keep this a secret, but just now I did this thing where if you take the first letter of each sentence, it spells out "VARIOUS". Kinda clever... I guess? Anyways, for those who are insane enough to be reading this entire thing from the start Wow, you have quite the dedication. My LTE isn't even the longest yet, but perhaps in the future, when it is the longest, people will be challenging themselves to read the entire thing. And maybe you're one of them! Perhaps you're reading this long after I've passed my goal, in which case you still have quite a bit to go. So I wish you luck on your Longest Text Ever reading adventure! I've been talking about LTEs all day. For the past 6,000 characters, in fact. I need to find something different to talk about. But first, I just had an idea pertaining LTEs. I should compare this LTE to the longest joke in the world! The longest joke in the world is 56,554 characters long, which is about how long I'm trying to get this LTE by the end of today. So if I reach my goal today, this text will be longer than the longest joke in the world! That's pretty cool. I would also be a quarter of the way to my goal. But let's get back to finding something different to talk about. I can't think of anything. My sister is singing a song about wanting Subway. I will never understand her. What goes through her brain that makes her decide "Yeah, I think it would be a good idea to sing about how I really want Subway"? I don't get how her brain works. She also likes eating paper. I asked her and appearantly she was perfectly okay with me writing that in here. She probably thinks nobody's ever gonna read this. But she's gonna be wrong! Eventually. Now she's asking me to write about how she likes yogurt. "Because I didn't used to", she says. She's eating mango yogurt, and she has water in a Gatorade bottle. Now I'm asking her what else I should put in this text. She says I should write about how there's wild sage where we live. Now she's having hot chocolate. She didn't ask me to write that, but I told her I was going to write it and she said okay. My sister might start her own Longest Text Ever, again. She says it will have only one word repeated throughout the entire text. But I told her that it defeats the purpose of an LTE. In the original FlamingChickens LTE, one of the very first things that is written is "I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste". Okay, I just made a webpage for her LTE (it's gonna be an actual LTE this time). Stay tuned for "The Best Longest Text Ever", as she calls it. I think it should have just been called "KKs Longest Text Ever" or something, but whatever. She types really slow, but I hope her LTE will be successful nonetheless. Warning: if you do go and read her LTE, she spoils Spiderman: Far From Home at the very beginning, so be careful about that. In fact, she's basically typing the entire plot of the movie. Well, that's one way to increase your LTE's length, I guess. My sister is listening to her terrible songs instead of writing her LTE. Well, she has her LTE page open, but she's not writing anything and is singing instead. Actually, she's writing stuff now, so ignore everything I said previously. She's still writing the entire plot. Her LTE is now 2,000 characters, which isn't very long, but she's only been working on it for an hour. Plus she's a slow typer. She types everything with one hand. It might take a while for her LTE to get to this level. But assuming she keeps writing it and doesn't forget about it after today, it'll get pretty long eventually. I still need to write 7,000 characters today. My sister is watching a cringy video made by our old elementary school. They became a French immersion school after I left. She found one of the videos I was in... oh god, I can't stand to look at that video. It hurts me to think about those days. My sister's LTE webpage has text now! Maybe I should create a page linking to all the LTEs I know about. I think I'll do that. Boom, it is done. I think I'm gonna also put a link to it on this page. There, that's done as well. Guys, I'm not sure if I'm gonna make it to 15,000. I still have 5,000 characters to go (I was completely off earlier, I don't have 7,000 left to go), and there's not much left of the day. In retrospect, it was probably a bad idea to make a goal for the day in the first place. After all, LTE writing is supposed to be fun! Sort of. There's zero need to make unneccesary deadlines. I think it just reduces the fun, as well as the part of my life that isn't just writing huge walls of text. From here on out, I declare character-per-day goals abolished. I will no longer make attempts to write a certain amount in a single day. I should have listened to my past self, who said not to do goals every day. But I didn't, and now I regret it. But anyways, here's a fun fact about this LTE: excluding my upcoming usage, the pronoun "he" is only used twice in this LTE, and they both refer to my dad. On the other hand, the pronoun "she" is used forty times! Almost all of these refer to my sister. Only one refers to my mom. I guess I just really like talking about the weird stuff my sister does. But not as much as being meta and talking about my own LTE. Here's another fun fact: "LTE" is the fourteenth most common word in this text! That's insane. It's more common than words you'd expect to be common, like "you", "I'm", "for", "be", "about", "was", and so on. I really need to talk about other things once in a while. But since I have zero creativity, I always resort to talking about the same topics. From what I've seen, most other LTEs are pretty diverse, but mine isn't at all. Honestly, this is likely the most boring LTE to read. But my absolute lack of creativity means it's probably gonna stay that way for a long time. I'm tired, so I'm gonna go to sleep. Maybe I'll be more creative by tomorrow. Probably not. Anyways, goodnight. Hey, I'm back, and I don't feel any more creative. But I did have a dream last night, so I'm gonna talk about that. Last night, I dreamt that I was in one of our old houses, and I saw that someone made a video roasting Viesa. They talked about how you shouldn't say "dog" in Viesa, because appearantly "deeg" is bad or something? I don't know. Then they said the rule where W becomes V is weird, but I don't remember the reason they said it. I didn't really care about how they roasted my language. Then I watched a Minecraft video for whatever reason, and then the dream ended. How do other LTE writers have so many topics to talk about? All I ever talk about is either LTEs themselves, or the fact that all I ever talk about is LTEs. There's no diversity. I very rarely talk about anything else. And when I do, it's usually about languages and lasts only a few sentences. There, I deleted it. Oh, you don't have any context. Basically I wrote a bunch of depressing stuff, then I decided to delete it all. I knew I was going to regret it later, in the same way I regret writing all that stuff about furries. Not that I think there's anything wrong with being a furry, it's just that it personally makes me uncomfortable looking back on it. I'm not even into that stuff as much anymore. I don't watch furry YouTube, and I don't talk about how much I want a fursuit/go to a convention. That's a part of me that's slowly disappearing. Okay, I'm gonna stop talking about that, because I literally just said how I regret talking about it in this text. You know, I've been feeling kind of down about this LTE lately, because as I just mentioned, all I ever talk about is this LTE itself, there's no diversity, blah blah blah. It's especially been like that ever since the four month gap. In fact, I barely talked about LTEs before that gap. It's like I lost all my creativity after four months. You know what? I'm officially gonna say this: If, for some reason, you are reading this before you decide you want to start reading this entire text, READ EVERYTHING FROM "WOW, IT HAS BEEN A WHILE" TO HERE AT YOUR OWN RISK, BECAUSE YOU WILL LIKELY DIE OF BOREDOM DUE TO THE MONOTONOUS TOPICS! There, now I'm gonna try and forget that half this LTE is the same exact boring topic. I will also try to avoid writing about the same exact boring topic for the rest of this text. Let's celebrate the End of Monotonous Topics (EMT) by talking about how we (my sister and I) had lunch and did various other things with our grandpa! So grandpa asked if we wanted to have lunch and spend an afternoon with him, and we said yes. Then he picked us up, and we went to a nearby town where we had lunch, went to a museum which was a house built in 1909 as well as the town's first hospital, and got ice cream from what is appearently one of the best ice cream places in the country, according to grandpa. So today was a fun day. I'm gonna go now. Bye! Hey, I'm back. That's the fifth time I've said that. I need to come up with more original... nah, whatever. Anyways, I had a dream last night which was basically a whole movie I don't remember most of. All I remember is playing a keyboard at the store for some reason, and that the dream ended with a random car horn. Oh, and there was Minecraft involved in the beginning, which I'm pretty sure is becoming a recurring theme in my dreams. I don't know why that happened, because I rarely play Minecraft anymore. Do any of y'all remember the DVD screensaver meme? That was one of my favorite memes. For those who don't know what I'm talking about, many DVD players had this screensaver where it was a DVD logo bouncing around the screen. The big moment that everyone anticipates is when the logo hits the corner of the screen perfectly, because, well, it's just so SATISFYING! I used to watch a livestream that was literally just this screensaver running endlessly. And when it hit the corner, it was a huge celebration for both me and everyone else watching. I got so excited when the logo hit the corner. My computer's screensaver is even still a DVD screensaver. But nowadays when I see it hit the corner, I don't have as much enthusiasm as I used to. I've just seen it too many times for it to be exciting anymore. Plus, the meme isn't even a thing anymore. I doubt that livestream is even still running. But you never know, so I'm gonna check to see if it's still going. Oh wow, it is! That was the last thing I expected to see in July 2019. But only four people are watching it, which makes sense. The title now says "DVD Logo Screensaver For 1 Year", even though it hasn't quite been going on for a year. But when it hits that point, perhaps that's when it will finally end? It should have ended months ago, if you ask me. Yup, I was right. There's a countdown on the livestream to when it ends, and it says 181 days, 9 hours, 12 minutes, and 3 seconds. Wow, the corner hit and wall hit numbers are much bigger now. The most corner hits I'd seen is around 1400 or so, but now it's at 4776! The wall hits used to be in the hundred-thousands, now it's at over two and a half million! Hello, I have returned. There, I came up with something original to say! Anyways, I just combined every single LTE I know of (including this one) and put it onto one single page on a Wikia wiki called "No Rules Wiki". That wiki exactly as you would expect from the title. I found it a while ago, and I thought it was about time I made a contribution, even if pasting over half a million characters into a single article is breaking some rule... I've been wanting to make Viesa an actual conlang for so long now. I think it's long overdue at this point. Hey, I'm back again. These sections are getting shorter and shorter each day. But oh well. I just discovered how much I like the word "number". I don't know why, but it's just so fun to say! I think I've liked that word ever since I was a toddler learning my numbers! I remember thinking it was a fun word even back then. At that time I had two little electronic toys: one was orange and for numbers, and one was purple and for letters. I'm pretty sure those were the colors. I also vaguely remember having a fan that lit up and displayed custom messages. I haven't seen anything like that since then. All I hear right now is Baby Shark being blasted upstairs. You know that song, right? I don't know who doesn't know it at this point. I can't think of a single person I've seen that doesn't know what that song is. Dang, ever since the EMT I haven't been writing as much in this text. Looks like LTEs were all I could talk about. Oh well. How many times have I said "oh well"? Probably a lot. About eight times, in fact. I'm back again. I went a full day without writing anything into this LTE yesterday! There were a lot of things happening that day, so I didn't feel like writing. I could've written at least a little bit, but I didn't. Time for me to use this LTE as my dream journal yet again! I had a dream where my domain was "exin" (or something like that) instead of "whiletrue", so that was a thing. I also had a dream where there was this game that I thought existed in the real world, but it didn't. Dreams do that sometimes. I don't remember much about the game, but it involved the Simpsons, I guess? Also, I was in a weird store where they had an... iCarly laptop? And a bunch of gift cards. That's all I remember. For now, at least. My sister does not like synthwave. She says "it's repetitive", "the sounds they use don't sound like music", and she doesn't like how it doesn't have lyrics. First of all, she's hypocritical because she always listens to the same songs on repeat. And why does it matter that it doesn't have words? Why does she think every single piece of music in existence has to have words? YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR OPINIONS THERE! (That was a reference to a cringy GoAnimator that no one reading this will get, unless you came to this website from my YouTube channel which you subscribed to during my OS video days). Anyways, synthwave is objectively the best genre of music. I remember hearing HOME - Resonance for the first time in a Discord voice chat, and it was magical. I wish I could listen to that song for the first time again. That was how I got into synthwave. You know what my favorite color combination is? Yellow text on a magenta background. Oh, and don't forget the Comic Sans. That is just pure beauty right there. In fact, it's used in the first frame (well, close enough) of "history of the entire world, i guess", which makes me love that video even more. We're at 60,000 characters, 1,000 sentences, and 12,000 words! Weird how all those counts hit such round numbers in one day, huh? I need to stick to the EMT, so I should stop talking about that. My sister is attempting to build a Lego city. Her goal is to have three buildings, since she doesn't have THAT much Lego. Have you noticed how quickly I've been switching topics in this text? That's because I can't talk about anything for a long time. That is, unless that thing is languages or LTEs. I am currently trying to revive a language my sister and I started making a while back. Sometimes my sister has days when she doesn't hate languages for some reason, then she ends up starting one. But of course, she regained her hate and abandoned it. Now I'm the only one working on the language. By the way, the language is called Lazay, which was the successor to Zula, the first language we made together which is now deleted. We started writing the language on paper, but then I started a Google Doc. I'm sure the papers are still here somewhere. I'm just too lazy to find them. I’m back again. I haven’t been ending these sections with goodbyes recently. But whatever. We’re on our way to IKEA to get a dresser for my room. We’re listening to Queens of the Stone Age right now, and I’m just waiting for “Fortress” to come on. I sing that song in Viesa, but I make up half of the lyrics. It goes: Ванавар јак фиртрас кува, ма башег ђара, ја сок. Try and translate that! The song is playing now. I like this song. We’re back from IKEA now. Actually, we’ve been home for hours now, and we’ve already built the dresser. My computer crashed (but don’t worry, I started writing this in Google Docs on my phone), and now Google Chrome won’t open. So I have to use Microsoft Edge for now. I’m gonna sleep now. Goodnight! Hello, I'm back. My sister is brushing my back with a hairbrush, and I don't know why. I asked her what I should write about (because I have zero creativity), and she said I should write about that. I'm gonna type whatever comes to my head now. Hi, I'm a boring human being who has zero creativity whatsoever and still happens to be writing an LTE. Isn't that insane? How could this be? Nobody knows, and nobody will ever know. It is a strange mystery that has yet to be solved. Hmm, I wonder if I should go and eat pancakes now? I'm so random right now. In fact, there's an entire subreddit for that: r/iamsorandom. You should check it out! I mean, you don't really have to, but it would be nice if you did. I use Reddit a lot, but I only use it for language-related stuff. Well, I make posts in language-related subreddits, but the non-language subs that I look at are ones that I don't post anything to, because I know nothing about literally anything that isn't languages. And heck, I don't even know much about languages! I only make English codes and call them "conlangs". Sort of. I usually don't actually call them conlangs, but I use them for such purposes. I speak Viesa as if it were a real language, but it simply is not. Why did I make Viesa in the first place? Well, you see, it all started out as a joke for April Fools' Day. I called it "the new universal language", despite it literally being a cipher of English. What!? A cipher of English being a universal language? How silly! What a funny joke, right? Maybe? Somewhat? Anyways, I then made a SECOND VERSION! DUN DUN DUN! This second version had CLICKY SOUNDS which, spoiler alert, dissapear in the next version of Viesa. Sad, right? RIP CLICKS 2018-2018 NEVER FORGET! I also added WACKY GRAMMAR STUFF and PRONOUNS! WOAH! How crazy! Then I made the next version: VERSION 3.0! This version added CYRILLIC! (you know, that alphabet the Russians use, as well as the Serbs, whose version of the Cyrillic alphabet I stole for Viesa. Hehehe!) And that's the entire history of Viesa, explained in a Zany way! Do you like how I capitalized "Zany" there? Aren't capital letters so cool? They let you YELL AND SCREAM AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS! They add EXCITEMENT! And most of all, they let you capitalize words like This. lowercase letters are also cool. without them, we'd all be yelling and screaming all the time. That would be pretty tiring, wouldn't it? I see two water bottles. One is empty, while the other still has some water in it. The empty one is blue, and the one with the water is pink. I should also mention that the blue one is mine, while the pink one is my sister's. I got that water bottle because I lost my other one at school. But GUESS WHAT? I FOUND IT IN THE LOST AND FOUND! Wow! Now I had two water bottles. How Wacky and Crazy and Zany and Bizzare and all those adjectives that perfectly describe this epic moment! Wow, writing your mind is a great way to increase your LTEs length! Before I was actually THINKING about what I was writing. But now I barely do, and it's greatly improving my LTE! Except the overuse of capital letters might throw the reader off guard a little because of how sparingly I've used them in the past, but oh well. I could fix it, but I don't feel like it. I want to continue writing, but I need to sleep now. Goodnight! Hi, I'm back again. My computer crashed AGAIN, and I was ignorant enough to not save my work, so that means I have to start this part of the text all over again. That's quite unfortunate. But did I mention that my Google Chrome is working again? That's the good news. It's good news because Google Chrome has all my logins, websites, and stuff like that. Hopefully you know what I mean when I say that. Maybe you do, maybe you don't. I don't even know what I mean right now! I'm probably insane right now. Especially since I'm writing this right now, as I have been for about 18 days minus the four month gap... I think. I hope I did that right. As I've said before, I'm bad at math. My sister just read the entirety of what I've written today for some reason. My sister just sang "I want your computer to crash again because I'm evil". She IS evil if she wants my computer to crash. At least I'll have this section saved. In fact, right now I'm pressing Ctrl+S after every sentence! Including this one. And this one. Also this one. I think you get the point now. My sister keeps typing into this LTE without my consent, and I keep having to delete it all. It's pretty annoying. Hey, flashback to when I said that way at the beginning of this text! You know, the part where I talk about the Teen Titans Go episode called "Waffles" where the word "Waffles" is said a hundred-something times. You know what else is said a hundred something times (in this LTE)? The letter J. So far it's been used 115 times in this LTE. That's your Interesting LTE Fact of the Day! Well, not really "daily", but whatever. Here's a story: Once upon a time, people got tired of starting off their stories with "Once upon a time", so they stopped doing that. But one person decided not to stop using "Once upon a time", and used it at the beginning of this story. And that person is ME! The end. Wasn't that a lovely story? You're probably not thinking that. Again, I'm not creative in any way whatsoever. That's why I don't usually write stories and instead write giant walls of text full of meaningless information, like the one and only WhileTrue's Longest Text Ever that you're reading right now. Hopefully nobody died of boredom from reading between "Wow, it has been a while" and the EMT. That's the most boring part of the LTE! 90% of it is just me talking about LTEs themselves. How uninteresting is that? Very uninteresting. Penguins. What are they? I don't know. What am I even writing right now? I haven't a clue. Isn't it weird that I said "haven't a clue" like that? Normally "haven't" isn't used if it's alone as a verb, as in "I haven't my keys". Who says that? Nobody, that's who. And yet "I haven't a clue" is an actual thing I've heard people say. Anyways, AFRICA! That was random, but let's discuss it anyway. Africa is a well-known song by Toto. It's a good song. I can kinda sorta play it on piano? Maybe? I don't know. Another song I can play on the piano is All Star by Smash Mouth. You know, the Shrek song? Anyways, I once made a video called "All Star but it's played on a Sesame Street piano" and it got almost a million views. It's been stuck at 900,000 for what seems like forever now. I'm gonna check to see if it's at a million now. I doubt it, though. Nope, still at 926,000 views. And I doubt it's gonna get any more, to be honest. It had a good run though. My sister is chugging applesauce. She thinks she's epic because of it. I don't know anymore. I seem to keep saying that after everything I type at this point. It's strange. Hello, I have returned after yet another long absence. When was the last time I added to this? I think it was somewhere in July. So yeah, it’s been three months, as it is now October 17, 2019. The end of the decade is approaching fast. I’m a bit excited, because I’ll have significant memories from more than just one decade! My earliest significant memories started in Kindergarden, which was in 2010. This means that I only really remember one decade. But now that an entirely new decade is coming up, I’ll be able to remember another! Part of me feels like I shouldn’t be excited over this, since the boundaries between years is arbitrary, and a decade is 10 years only because we count in base 10, so if we counted in base 12 or something, a decade would be 12 years long. That was kind of a run-on sentence, but I don’t really feel like making this text perfect, anyway. Have you heard of the Library of Babel? libraryofbabel.info is a website containing every possible combination of the lowercase letters a-z, space, comma, and period. The library is divided into hexagonal chambers. Each hex contains four walls. Each wall contains three shelves. Each shelf contains 32 volumes. Each volume contains 410 pages of 3200 characters each. Everything you could ever say or write is on this website. Even this LTE! See for yourself: https://libraryofbabel.info/bookmark.cgi?lte. Okay, that’s only the first bit of it, but every other bit of this LTE is somewhere in the library! In fact, here’s the next bit: https://libraryofbabel.info/bookmark.cgi?lte:1. It’s split up into about 20 different pages. I don’t feel like putting links to all of them here. It also removes punctuation that the library doesn’t use, like the exclamation point, question mark, colon, and so on. But it’s pretty mind-blowing stuff, if you ask me. If you try and browse the library yourself though, you probably won’t find much more than total gibberish. It’s crazy to think that everything we could ever possibly say or write is massively outweighed by meaningless strings of letters and punctuation.

[donteattheappleshook]

AU Prompt: Emma pushed Killian away when he confessed his feelings to her. He’s finally returned home, a bit broken by the world. Will she finally have the guts to tell him what she always regretted not saying? (Can be smutty or not)

Sorry this took a few weeks but here it is! Thank you for my first ever prompt! I don’t know if this is what you wanted but this is what it turned into... nearly 10000 words of friends to lovers angst.

You can read it on Ao3

Send me your prompts!

Emma met Killian Jones when she was seventeen years old and she hadn’t liked him one bit. From the moment he’d first said hello to her she’d read him as a cocky, smooth talking broody type who probably liked to win over girls with his accent and his Edward Cullen like aloofness. She had not been a fan. She’d let him know too, on multiple occasions. 

She’d spent most of her time avoiding him for the first month of the semester and she was doing a pretty good job of it actually. That is, until she got detention. For being late. How unfair was that? It wasn’t her fault that Ruth’s car wouldn’t start in the morning and so she and David had had to walk to school. David got away with it, he always did. He was sweet and friendly and he could charm teachers like it was nobody’s business. 

Emma had scowled and defended her innocence and had ended up with detention. She loved the guy, really. Ever since he and Ruth had taken her in a year ago she was nothing but grateful for their kindness and love. She’d even started referring to him as her brother. She just hated how much better he was at being a person than she was sometimes. 

That was the second time she met Killian Jones. She was shocked to find him there. Despite her first impression she had managed to discover that he was, at his core, a nerd. He may dress like the love interest in a teen movie but he spent most of his time in the library or sitting under trees reading or doing homework. He even wore glasses sometimes, these big, awful square things that took over half his face. So what was he doing in detention?

“Afternoon, Swan,” he said when she walked in. He was immediately shushed by the teacher who had gotten the unfortunate role of supervising them. “I’m just being friendly,” she heard him mutter under his breath. 

They were the only two in there today. They had to stay for an hour after school. She guessed the punishment for being late to class was being late to dinner. They were told to sit silently and to either do homework or read. Emma figured she might as well try to get through some of her English homework. She was crap at it and it was the one subject that David couldn’t help her with. She’d rather do it here then at home. 

She started working through the questions for Act 1. Why the hell did they still study Shakespeare? The guy was dead four hundred years now. Give it up already - let him rest in peace. She was working on the third question - guessing the answer to the third question was more like it - when she heard a small cough beside her. She looked up to find Killian leaning over in his seat, his own homework in front of him.

“That’s the wrong answer,” he said quietly and she raised a brow at him.

“What?”

“Your answer, Mercutio isn’t Romeo’s cousin. Benvolio is. Mercutio is just his friend.” Her eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t being condescending or self-righteous. He was just… letting her know. Trying to help her, she realised. He looked nervous as he glanced at her and then back at his book. 

“How do you know that?” she asked.

“I’m in your English class,” he said, looking down, ears turning red. Right. And she was a jerk. She felt bad, he looked a little dejected and it was her fault. She hadn’t seen him hanging around with many people, he was usually alone. Like her. She wondered then, a bit sadly, if maybe he wasn’t alone because he wanted to be. Maybe he was alone because he didn’t have anyone - like her. 

“Thanks,” she said with a smile and he gave her a small one in return. “Um, do you know who the hell Tybalt is?” 

His smile widened and he nodded as he leaned over to help her. The teacher told them to knock it off but he insisted that they were trying to help each other complete the same homework. He even argued that it was more character building than just sitting in silence. He was damn lucky that he seemed to have some of that same charm that David had when it came to teachers. The teacher waved them away, letting them continue to work together. 

She finished her homework a lot faster than she would have without him. And she understood the story a little better than she had coming in to detention. She was reminded then that that was where they were and as she looked at Killian, with his red ears and his shy smile and hunched shoulders and his dumb glasses, she had to ask. 

“What did you do to get in here?” His smile faltered just a tad. He scratched behind his ear nervously. 

“I, um, I punched Eric.”

“You what?” she demanded, loud enough that the teacher glared. Of all the things she’d expected - that was not one of them. 

“He was picking on Belle. He threw her book in the snow and made fun of her for liking to read - I mean, who the hell makes fun of someone for reading?” 

Emma felt her lips curling up a bit at his incredulous tone. “What, is Belle your girlfriend or something,” she teased. He frowned at her, looking confused.

“No,” he said. “She’s with that strange Scottish exchange student who’s name I can’t pronounce. But she’s a person and she’s sweet and Eric is an asshole and well, Belle is only about yea big,” he said, bringing his thumb and index finger close together. “I couldn’t do nothing,” he insisted. Emma laughed. 

Two things changed that day. One, Emma understood Shakespeare for the first (and last) time in her life. And two, she decided to make Killian Jones her friend. 

They were inseparable after that. At school  they spent almost all of their time together. In class they sat next to each other, they chatted in the halls between bells, they ate lunch together, and Killian ate dinner at their house regularly. Emma learned fairly quickly that his own home wasn’t a place he liked to be when he could avoid it. 

His mother had died when he was young and his father had raised him and his brother for a few years but finally decided that he couldn’t handle raising his sons on his own so when Killian’s brother went off to university, he had sent him to live with his aunt Cora in Boston. She was, in Killian’s own words, not a very nice woman. 

It was then that Emma realised how similar she and Killian were. They’d both been abandoned and left behind by the people who were supposed to care about them more than anyone. His father had sent him away. Her parents had abandoned her by the side of the road. Both their parents had chosen to give them up. And so she invited him for dinner, because Ruth and David were the best thing that had ever happened to her and she thought he could use a little bit of the Nolans in his life. 

He and David got along like a house on fire. She was surprised considering how David was such a jock, and Killian revealed dorkier and dorkier interests with every day that she knew him. But they were similar, she could see that, in their friendliness and openness and their humor. Killian told her that David reminded him of his brother and that made him miss him less. 

David also quickly became the bane of her existence, insisting that she and Killian were secretly in love with each other and getting on her case to just admit it already so that they could get married and have lots of babies like they both clearly wanted. Emma usually punched him for that. 

She and Killian were friends. That was all. She’d had few real friends in her life and she wasn’t going to screw this one up by developing feelings for him. No matter how cute he looked when his hair fell onto his forehead despite his best efforts to push it back. No matter how much he made her laugh or how much she enjoyed when they watched a movie late on the weekend and he let her fall asleep with her head in his lap. No matter how she thought he looked kind of hot when he got mad every time she beat him at Scrabble - which was all the time. They were friends. 

Emma had tried love once. She was sixteen, just when Ruth and David had first taken her in. There had been a guy. He had been in one of her group homes a while back, before he aged out and they had stayed in touch. They’d reunited when they found themselves both in the same city. 

He was older but she didn’t think that mattered. What was five years when they’d lived so many of the same experiences? Ruth hadn’t approved of the situation but she’d stayed mostly quiet about it - their relationship not strong enough for her to impose her views yet. 

She’d thought Neal was the love of her life. But then, she’d had a pregnancy scare and he’d run away faster than a bat outta hell. She’d never heard from him since. She hadn’t been pregnant, thank god. She was not ready to be a mother. But to see how little she meant to him, how despite all his pretty words and promises he had left her so easily the second he was faced with her being in his life forever… it had hurt. It had destroyed her, really. So she figured love wasn’t really worth it in the end. 

She’d met Killian less than a year later and at first she’d hated him because that easy charisma and confidence and air of a damaged soul had reminded her so strongly of Neal that she’d headed for the hills. But after she’d gotten to know him she realised how different they were, and so she did love him - not in that way, maybe in that way- but in the way she loved David. She trusted him and liked being around him. 

He was her friend - even if she had had that weird dream about him one time… several times… too many times. It wasn’t her fault that she thought about him when she woke up and before she went to sleep. He was usually texting her at that time - what else could she think about? They were friends. He was her best friend and he had been for nearly a year when everything changed. 

“I um, I got in,” he told her when they were sitting at the kitchen table one weekend near the end of their senior year. They’d decided to open their letters together. Emma had applied to a few colleges nearby and the local community college. She had her sights set on becoming a police officer or a social worker. She wasn’t sure which yet. Killian wanted to be an English professor. He’d told her so one of the first days they’d hung out. She’d called him a nerd but gave him credit for at least finding a way to make money off of it. 

“Got in where?” she asked. She’d missed which envelope he’d opened. He had a lot - they were all the big envelopes too. 

“Oxford,” he said, his eyes wide in disbelief and amazement. 

“Holy shit, Killian!” she shouted, standing up and throwing her arms around him, nearly knocking him right off his chair. “That’s amazing! Isn’t that where your brother studies? That’s an amazing school! Oh my god, professor Jones here you come!” 

She was beaming, so proud of him, so happy for him. She knew this was his dream school. But there was something off. He didn’t look as thrilled as she expected him to. Maybe it was just shock but she thought he could at least smile about it. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, nudging his shoulder. “I thought this was what you wanted?” 

“It is - sort of. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“It’s in England,” he said and for the first time since he’d opened that letter it hit her. Oh. Oh. That meant… that meant he’d be leaving. Moving hundreds of miles away. 

“I don’t have to go there,” he said, giving her an awkward, embarrassed smile. “I got into Harvard too.” 

“You what?” she practically screamed. She punched his arm. “You weren’t supposed to open letters without me!” 

“It was Harvard, Emma,” he deadpanned and she couldn’t really be mad at him. She wouldn’t have been able to wait either. 

“Where do you want to go?” she asked and he looked at her hesitantly. She tried not to think about the way her heart was racing in her chest. Or about how blue his eyes were. Or about how she might not get to see them every day if he went to Oxford. 

“I don’t know,” he started and she knew he was lying. 

“Yes you do.” He looked away, not meeting her eye. “Killian, I know you hate it here,” he opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “I know you like me and David and Belle and some of the others but… I know you miss home. I know you miss your brother. I also know it’s the better program because you’ve told me so. Multiple times.” She held her breath for a moment, surprised at how much it hurt to encourage him to follow his dream. “Oxford is everything you’ve ever wanted.” 

“Not everything,” he said and she tried to meet his eye. He wouldn’t look at her. 

“What do you mean? What’s missing.” 

“You,” he answered, finally looking at her and her breath caught in her throat. Not just at his words, but at the way he was looking at her, like he’d been holding something back a long time and now the floodgates had opened and it was rushing out, plain on his face. “Oxford doesn’t have you,” he said. 

“If I stay here,” he continued, “we could go to school in the same city. We could keep hanging out between classes and on the weekends - we could even get a flat together!” he said a little excitedly and Emma’s chest hurt because she wanted all of those things, so badly. But she couldn’t have them. She couldn’t let him choose her over his future. They were friends. They were seventeen. He would regret it and resent her for the rest of his life. 

“But Oxford is your dream, everything you said you wanted,” she reminded him. “Oxford is where your family is, your brother and your old friends.” Her argument sounded weak to her own ears. 

“Maybe I have other dreams, other things I want more,” he said, looking at her that way again. It scared her. 

“What dreams,” she asked, barely whispering. 

“Emma,” he said, taking her hand and her heart started racing. “Emma you have to know, there’s no way you couldn’t. The whole school knows, your brother knows.” Her breath was coming quickly now, all of her senses on high alert and her blood rushing in her ears as he leaned in.

He pressed his lips to hers, tentatively, nervously, but with a passion that Killian always had for anything he did, anything he cared about. She shouldn’t let him kiss her, she thought. She couldn’t. She couldn’t because she wanted him to and if she wanted that then she had to admit to everything she wanted, to how much she wanted him. 

Of course she knew. She’d always known and… he knew too. But this was his life. His future. She couldn't let him throw it away for her. She loved him, regardless of which way, and so she had to let him go. So she did let him kiss her, for a moment, let her lips slide over his own, let herself enjoy how natural it felt, how right it felt - because she knew she’d never get to again. She pulled away first. 

“Killian -” she started and he must have heard it in her voice because he raised his hand, cupped her cheek.

“No,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. His words were frantic, desperate, like he was trying to hold on to something he knew was slipping away. “I love you, Emma. Ask me not to go. Ask me to stay.” 

She couldn’t. She couldn’t ask him that. It was selfish and she couldn’t let him give up his dreams for her. She wasn’t worth it. She knew he wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t let her convince him to leave just like that. She’d have to hurt him - for his own sake. And it would hurt her just as much. 

“I can’t,” she said and she felt his hand tighten slightly in her hair. She pulled back. “Killian. Don’t stay for me. Whatever it is you feel for me… I don’t,” she lied. “I’m sorry. But you can’t stay in Boston for me. Not if you’re staying because you hope something will happen because… it’s never going to happen.”

She felt him tense. His hand still in her hair, her hand still clasped in his. Then he pulled back all at once, looked down, and then back at her. He was hurt, but there was guilt there too. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Emma, I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s fine.”

“Will you still be my friend?” he asked. “Even after…”

“Yes,” she promised. 

“You really want me to go?” he asked. She nodded, hoped he didn’t see the tears she was struggling to hold off. 

“Yeah. I really want you to go,” she said. 

When Killian went home that night, earlier than usual, Emma let herself cry. 

Killian left in the summer. Their goodbye was awkward, as had most of their interactions been since his confession. They’d tried not to make it awkward, to go back to how they’d been but now he had this huge vulnerability hanging between them and she had this huge lie hanging between them. It tore at the fabric that made them what they were, that made their friendship what it had been. It stained it. 

“Keep in touch,” she said as she hugged him outside his aunt’s house, the cab waiting behind them. 

“Aye,” he promised. He got in the cab and David’s arm was around her suddenly. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

“Fine,” she lied again. She was getting good at it. 

***

They were still sort of friends, for the first year they kept in touch - really made an effort. Killian told her about the residence and the people he had met and his professors and Emma told him about her forensics courses. She’d decided on becoming a police officer - but she wanted to be a detective. David was in the same program. It was nice to do it with someone else. 

But slowly, unavoidably, life got in the way. The phone calls were few and farther between, he didn’t have the money to go to Boston for Thanksgiving and she didn’t have the money to go to England for Christmas. Plans were broken, texts went unanswered, new friends were made, new interests developed and slowly, they drifted. 

It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just one of those sad, unavoidable realities of life. Only, he and David still talked, still texted and emailed and spoke on the phone. So maybe it wasn’t so unavoidable. Maybe they’d both needed it. 

She still had him on Facebook, still checked in on his profile despite the years that passed, trying to stay aware of the things that were happening in his life. She learned about his brother’s death from David. She sent him a card with her condolences but she didn’t go to the funeral. It had been three years since he left, two since they’d spoken. He probably wouldn’t have wanted her there anyway. He hadn’t come down for David and Mary Margaret’s wedding a year later, despite having known both of them since high school. He’d had exams and had sent his apologies and a gift by mail. 

She saw online that he was in a long-term relationship, someone called Milah, a pretty dark haired woman who looked a few years older than him, a professor at his school she discovered after a little bit of snooping. He was with her for two years during which Emma was accosted with pictures of the two of them, until finally, one day they just stopped. She wondered what had happened there. 

She smiled when she learned that he got his PhD. He’d posted a picture of himself with a beer in one hand and his diploma in the other. He’d captioned it ‘that’s DOCTOR Killian Jones to you’. She hit the like button. He changed his job status to ‘employed’ at one of the smaller nearby colleges shortly after and she was proud of him. He’d done it. He’d gotten everything he wanted. It had taken ten years, but he was exactly who he’d hoped to be. 

So was she. She had made detective a few years ago, alongside David. They were even allowed to be partners since technically they weren’t related. She was happy, she had a job she loved, a nice apartment that was all her own, good friends, family… but she still checked his Facebook. She still spent evenings sometimes with a glass of wine looking up the boy who had told her he loved her when she was seventeen. 

She and David were sitting in their patrol car, staking out a coffee shop of all places that they’d been told their perp liked to use to make his drops, when he told her Killian was moving back. 

“What?” she demanded, her voice practically squeaking. 

“He got a job at Harvard,” David said dismissively, as though he hadn’t just turned her world upside down. “He’s got a one year teaching contract. I guess they liked the idea of a Brit teaching British lit,” he smirked a little at his own joke. 

Emma was reeling. She wasn’t prepared for this. She didn’t know how to handle the guy that she’d loved in high school and then stalked on Facebook for ten years suddenly coming back into her life. 

“You okay?” David asked, looking at her strangely. 

“Fine,” she said quickly and he rolled his eyes, not buying it. 

“Whatever,” he said, picking his battles. “We’re having a party at our house to welcome him home,” he told her. “You should come.” Emma forgot sometimes that David and Killian were still friends, even after all these years. He and Mary Margaret had even taken the time to visit him when they’d gone to Europe for their anniversary last year.

“Maybe,” she said dismissively. 

“He still asks about you, you know,” David said after a moment. Emma stayed silent, pretending to look through her binoculars at the front door of the cafe. Pretending her heart wasn’t racing in her chest at the idea of seeing the man whose heart she’d broken a decade ago. 

She’d debated not going to the party. Had walked to her front door and back into her kitchen a few times, had hesitated at her car, but she’d finally told herself to snap out of it. It had been ten years ago. They’d been teenagers. He was surely over it by now and she should be too. So she went. 

She hadn’t been prepared. She thought she was but when she walked in and saw him standing with David and Mary Margaret, smiling at something one of them was saying… it was brutal. It was brutal because he was different. She’d expected him to be different of course, but not like this. 

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. He looked sadder and older. He held himself more confidently than he had in high school, but something about it told her it was a facade. Maybe she just knew him, she thought. But she didn’t anymore, did she, she was reminded. Her heart stopped when he looked over, met her eyes. He smiled a little but it wasn’t the easy smile she’d loved so much. He raised his bottle at her and she gave an awkward wave. 

“Long time no see, stranger,” he said later, coming up behind her to say hello and honestly scaring the absolute shit out of her.

“Jesus, Killian,” she said, hand to her chest. “Don’t you know not to sneak up on a cop like that?”

He smiled, that teasing smile she remembered. “I think I could take David if we’re honest.” She laughed. “I heard you made detective,” he said. “Congratulations.” 

“Thanks. I hear you’re finally Professor Jones.”

“Aye. It seems we both got what we wanted in the end,” he said and there was a bit of sadness in the way he said it, the kind that she could tell was unintentional. 

“So,” she started awkwardly when the silence dragged on. “How have you been?”

“Good, good,” he said. “You?” This was brutal. They continued the small talk for a while. She missed how easy things used to be between them. She missed all the stupid, fun things they did when they were kids and they didn’t have all this baggage hanging between them. 

“You know what I miss?” she said out loud and he raised a brow at her. 

“No, Swan, what do you miss?” 

“I miss when we used to steal Ruth’s whiskey and climb up onto the roof and drink it there,” she smiled, remembering how many long, slightly drunken conversations they’d had as kids on the roof of Ruth’s house. 

Killian smiled, fondly and then a little mischievously. He leaned in a little and Emma couldn’t help but notice the way his face had changed. His jaw was sharper, some of the roundness of his cheeks having faded with age, and he’d grown into his nose. He was sporting a short beard now too, something he’d always wanted to complete his professor look but hadn’t been able to grow. He dressed better too, no more jeans and band tshirts. Now he wore… well, jeans and a tshirt but nicer ones with a jacket and boots instead of converse. It was pretty unfair, Emma thought, that he'd gotten better looking with age. He’d been good-looking enough to begin with. 

“I think I spy a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen there,” he hinted and Emma smirked. 

“This place does have a roof,” she said, matching his tone. 

“I’ll get the bottle, you distract Dave,” he said, winking - well, trying to. He’d never mastered that one and it made her smile a bit to see that some things hadn’t changed. 

They successfully managed to steal the bottle and hurry their way up to the guest room that Emma knew had a window they could walk out onto the roof from. They sat there, knees pulled up, passing the bottle between them as they looked out at the slowly darkening sky. Emma let the liquor warm her, let it make her a little looser, a little braver. 

“How are you really, Killian?” she asked eventually. He sighed, reaching for the bottle and taking a sip. 

“Tired,” he said. “It’s been a rough few years.” 

“I saw, about your brother,” she said. “I’m sorry.” 

He nodded. “Thank you. I’ve learned to live with it.”

“There was a woman too,” she said, not quick enough to catch the words before they slipped out. He raised an eyebrow at her teasingly.

“Been stalking my facebook, have you, Swan?”

She shrugged, deciding to be honest. “Only a little.” He looked surprised at her confession, a small smile breaking out on his face. 

“Aye, there was a woman,” he said and she wanted to roll her eyes at the fact that he sounded like some old dandy poet, lamenting over a lost love. “Milah. She went back to her husband.” Emma’s eyes shot up to her hairline. Husband? Wow. That was not what she’d expected. “There was a child involved,” he said, not turning to see her surprised look. “It was for the best.” 

He didn’t sound like he totally believed what he said, but he sounded like he’d made peace with it. Emma felt for him. His life had continued on the way it had been when they met. He’d lost more people, been left behind by more people he cared about, loved. She’d managed to avoid that. But she hadn’t let herself love anyone new. Not since him. 

“And what about you?” he asked, turning to hand her back the bottle. “What great loves have you lived and lost? Or is there a great love now?” he asked with a cheeky smile. She laughed.

“Nah, not for me,” she said. “My love affairs usually only last until the next morning.” He huffed out a laugh as she took another drink from the bottle. 

“Ah, you’ll find it someday,” he said. “One day there will be a man that you can’t dream of living without and that one will last a long time.”

“Two nights?” she joked and he laughed again. His laugh was the same, she thought with a small smile. 

“Aye, two nights.” 

They sat in silence for a while, continuing to share the bottle and Emma decided to blame that for what she said next. “I’ve missed you,” she told him and he turned his head to face her, away from the stars they’d been gazing up at. 

“I’ve missed you too, Swan,” he told her. He lay back, stretched his arm out and she took the invitation, snuggled up next to him like they had when they were teenagers watching scary movies and she lay her head on his shoulder. 

They stayed out there for another hour before David came to find them, scolding Killian for sneaking out of his own party. But he smiled at them as they climbed back through the window and Emma knew he was happy they’d found their way back to each other - that they were finding their way back to the friendship she’d once valued more than anything.

The next night, Emma invited him out for a drink with her and some of her friends from college. He’d made a comment about going out two nights in a row and she’d mocked him for being an old man - ‘I’m sorry, has it been ten years or fifty since we last saw each other?’ - and he agreed to join her. 

Emma was surprised, tough not really, at how well he fit in with her friends. They all loved him, loved his stories from teaching and the fact that he had dirt on Emma from before any of them knew her. He and Will and Robin hit it off immediately and she figured it was probably a brit thing. They spent over an hour talking about soccer. 

He fit in well here. Emma tried not to think about the fact that he fit so well into her life. Or about how much she liked that he fit there, how much she’d missed having him there. She also, really tried to ignore the way that his shirt clung to his biceps. He hadn’t had those in high school. It was difficult when Ruby seemed so intent on pointing it out. Ruby was being herself, pretending to be more salacious than she really was for a laugh, making comments about how she could just spread him on a cracker, when she looked at Emma and her face changed. 

“Oh,” she said and Emma didn’t like the knowing tone of her voice.

“What?” Emma asked, realising that her arms were crossed over her chest. She let them fall, tried to strike a more casual pose. 

“I didn’t realise… you like him,” she said with a sly smile. Emma scoffed.

“We’re friends,” she said flatly. 

“Mhm,” Ruby smirked. “You don’t look at me like that,” she pointed out. “Or Will, or Robin, or even Graham.” 

“Shut up,” Emma said, crossing her arms again as Killian looked over and she accidentally, automatically smiled at him. Ruby only laughed. 

They were friends. They’d only just started being friends again. She wasn’t going to ruin it now. She’d been the one to ensure that they would always, only be friends. ‘It’s never going to happen’, she’d told him. She’d made her bed. Now she had to lie in it - alone. 

She still couldn’t help wondering though if he still kissed the same way. She’d only kissed him once but she’d had yet to have another that lived up to it. And he’d been a teenager then, she was pretty sure she was the second girl he’d ever kissed. She wondered what it would be like now. 

She pushed the thought away. She’d thrown that possibility out the window a long time ago. She’d done it for his own good. And look who he was now, a professor, he had a goddamn PhD. He’d gotten everything he wanted. So why did he look so sad most of the time? Why was she so sad most of the time? She hadn’t noticed that she was before - it had only been since he came back and she had become aware of the gaping hole where something had been missing from her life. 

Having him back helped a bit. Like a bandaid over an open wound. She just hoped that the awkwardness would fade and they would find their way back to the friendship she had mourned for so long, had never really gotten over. She hoped he would let her earn it back. She looked at him laughing at something Robin said and she realised that regardless of time, her life was a little better with him in it. 

The awkwardness did fade. It wasn’t instant and it wasn’t necessarily easy - there was a lot between them, a lot of years and disappointments and broken trust, but soon, they found their way back to what they’d had as kids. It wasn’t long before they were spending evenings in each other's apartments, curling up on the couch and watching bad movies. She found herself smiling a lot throughout the day when he would text her a funny message or a stupid meme.

He was there for Christmas, only the second they’d gotten to celebrate together. They’d both spent the night at David and Mary Margaret’s and Emma had only been disappointed for a second that there were two guest rooms. She’d been looking forward to staying up late talking with him and laughing… and flirting. She’d noticed that there had been a bit more flirting, more than there used to be. On second thought, having to share a bed might not have been a good thing. Not if she wanted to keep him as a friend. She bought him a tweed jacket with leather patches on the shoulders that year. It was meant to be a joke but he’d worn it every day for a month. 

He was there for New Years and Emma felt her heart skip a beat when he kissed her at midnight. It was a small thing, a peck on the lips, barely a second, and he’d smiled at her in a way that made her feel that she shouldn’t read into it - no matter how much she wanted to. It was just a European thing, she insisted, weird boundaries. 

There had been a moment, once, when they’d been sitting on her couch in her apartment, watching another terrible movie. Nothing had happened, nothing specifically, but suddenly she found herself looking at him and he was watching her too, something heavy hanging in the air between them. 

Their hands were close and he moved his little finger, brushed it over hers and it made her breath stop. It was ridiculous, considering her legs were thrown over his and they were already sitting so close, but her breath stopped anyway. It was the way he was looking at her, the uncertainty and the affection and just a tiny bit of longing - there was no other word for it. She recognized it because she’d felt it every day since he’d come home - every day since he’d left ten years ago. 

His fingers had continued, collecting more of hers and slowly intertwining them. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to kiss her. She was pretty sure that he would for a moment. He held their hands up between them, looked at them and then at her, pulled her a little closer. And then a loud noise had come from the TV and he’d jumped, dropping her hands and scratching at his ear. They didn’t bring it up again. 

He was there for St Patty’s Day and Easter and the Fourth of July and birthdays, and before she knew it a year had passed. Well, nearly a year, eleven months to be exact. She knew that because it was August and he was complaining about having to go back to teaching the ‘little entitled shit’s’ as he called them. 

“Weren't you one of those students a few years ago?” she reminded him, flicking at his ear as she walked around him into her kitchen to grab them a snack. He was sitting on her sofa a few feet away. Her apartment was small, but it was cozy.

“I was a little shit,” he allowed, batting at her hand. “But I was never entitled. It’s the entiledness that really gets to me.”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” she taunted, as she put the popcorn in the microwave and turned it on. 

He turned, throwing his arm over the back of the couch and looking over his shoulder at her. “You really want to question an English Literature professor?” 

“Being a professor doesn’t mean you get to make up words,” she told him. “Besides, I still beat you in Scrabble so I’m pretty sure I’m the expert.” 

He scoffed, hopping over the back of the couch and joining her in the kitchen. “Scrabble is a game of luck, nothing more,” he told her. “You can’t make words if you don’t get the right letters.” 

“Sounds like something a loser would say,” she shrugged. He looked at her in shock and Emma saw the glint in his eye a second before he moved. “Don’t,” she tried to warn him but he was too fast. He grabbed her and the idiot started tickling her, actually tickling her like he was seven years old. 

“Admit I have a superior mastery of the English language,” he demanded. She shrieked as she laughed, her sides burning, cursing him. He had her trapped against his body, his arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her back to his chest.

“Never!” she saw her opportunity and she took it. She grabbed his arm and spun him around, managed to pin him against the fridge, her arm braced against his chest, holding one of his wrists, she held the other down at his side. 

“Woah,” he said, eyes wide. 

“I keep telling you not to mess with cops,” she pointed out. 

“That was kind of hot,” he admitted, looking more impressed than turned on really. But that was enough for Emma to realise that she had him pushed up against the fridge, her whole body pressed to his. She could feel her face warming, could feel all of her skin warming where she touched his. Oh. She saw it in his eyes when he noticed too. 

She let him go, moved to step back but he caught her, putting his hand on her lower back and pulling her back in. Her heart rate picked up as he pressed her against him, that look in his eyes he’d had that night on her couch back again. He licked his bottom lip and Emma’s eyes darted down to it immediately. 

She saw the way his expression changed a little when she did, curiosity there as he cocked his head, looking her over. He seemed unable to settle on a single part of her face until he stopped at her lips. His own parted, his chin tilting slightly, drawing closer and she couldn’t think of anything except the heat of him against her and her heart running a marathon in her chest. She could feel his breath on her face and that he looked so damn handsome and she just really, really wanted him to kiss her. 

The microwave beeped and Emma cursed the shitty timing that seemed to keep ripping them apart anytime she was given the smallest bit of hope that there could be something more, that they could be something more. Because that was what she wanted. She’d stopped denying it that night on her couch. 

She wanted Killian. She loved Killian. She had since she was seventeen years old. She’d thought it would go away, had almost believed it had at one point. But then he’d come back into her life and that part of her that had been on mute, on pause but never truly gone had reared its head, made sure she knew that she was still, completely and hopelessly in love with the boy she’d met in detention. 

Killian released her, cleared his throat and she stepped back. She held back her sigh, her disappointment. She couldn’t tell him. Not now. Not after all they went through, not now that they were back to who they’d been. She’d turned him down ten years ago. She’d broken his heart. To tell him now that she loved him, that she’d always loved him... She feared his reaction, feared his rejection. 

“I have to tell you something.” He said to her back. She was pouring popcorn into a bowl. 

“If it’s that you don’t want Milkduds in your popcorn you’re shit outta luck,” she said, trying to lighten the heavy mood between them. 

“No, well, yes, but that’s not what I wanted to tell you.” She turned around, recognizing the serious tone of his voice. She leaned back against the counter, waiting for him to say whatever he needed to say. “I’ve been offered a job,” he told her. 

“Killian that’s amazing!” she started but he stopped her. 

“It’s at Oxford.” She felt her heart drop into her stomach. No. Not again. She’d only just gotten him back. “A former professor of mine, Nemo, he pulled some strings when one of the faculty announced her retirement. He says the job is mine if I can get there for the fall semester.” 

It took Emma a moment to speak, trying to process what he was saying, trying to cope with the way it was ripping out her heart. “What about Harvard?” she asked, a little hopefully. 

He scratched that spot behind his ear like he always did when he was nervous. “That position is still up in the air. They’re still reviewing my candidacy.” 

She didn’t say anything, not for a long time. She couldn’t think of what to say. She felt like she was seventeen again, having the exact same conversation they’d had then. Please don’t go, she wanted to beg. Don’t leave. Stay here with me. Be with me. Choose me. But he’d chosen her once before. He’d chosen her and she’d practically thrown it back in his face. 

“It’s a pretty great opportunity,” he continued. “Rare too. It usually takes years to get a position like that.” She could hear him speaking, was aware that he was talking to her, but she couldn’t hear him over the thoughts that were rolling around in her head. She couldn’t lose him again. Not like last time. Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go. 

“The English program there is renowned and-”

“Don’t go.” 

He froze. “What?” 

Shit. Shit, she’d said it out loud. He was looking at her with disbelief and shock and maybe a tiny bit of hope, but maybe she’d imagined that. Well, it was too late now to take it back. 

“Don’t go,” she repeated, stronger this time. She watched the emotions playing over his face, so many that she couldn’t track all of them. But the last one was anger, a desperate kind. 

“What do you mean don’t go?” he reeled on her. “How - How can you ask me that? After all these years?” 

“I know,” she said, hanging her head. “I’m sorry but I just,” she took a deep breath. “I let you leave once and it was the worst mistake I ever made. I was in love with you and when you left I lost you and... Don’t go.” His eyes widened in shock, his jaw dropping. If this moment hadn’t been so serious it would have been almost comical.

“You were in love with me?” he demanded, disbelief clear in his voice. He stepped forward. “Why didn’t you tell me that ten years ago? Why did you push me away?” His voice cracked a little. “I was in love with you, Emma. I’d have done anything for you and you - You broke my heart.” 

“I know,” she could feel tears burning her eyes. “I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought that if you stayed you’d resent me, that you’d hate me eventually. I wanted you to get everything you wanted.”

“You were what I wanted!” he practically shouted at her. She flinched a little. “I wanted to be with you but you turned me down. And then you cut me out of your life.”

“I didn’t-”

“You did, Emma. You stopped answering my calls, my texts, my emails. You didn’t come to the funeral…” She hung her head again. “And now, now we’re finally speaking again, finally back in each other’s lives, finally friends again and now you say you loved me? Now you ask me to stay?”

“Are you not anymore?” she asked and he looked at her in confusion. “In love with me," she clarified. She shouldn’t be asking him. She knew she wouldn’t like the answer. Just because her feelings hadn’t changed in ten years didn’t mean his wouldn’t. He tensed, stood up straighter.

“Are you?” he demanded. 

Emma bit her lip. She was. She was as in love with him now as she was at seventeen but it was different now. She was an adult, she understood the difference between love and infatuation, knew how they were different. Her love had grown from missing him for a decade, had grown more from being with him this last year. It was all consuming, all she thought about. All she wanted was him, if he turned her down now… she didn’t know if she’d recover. 

“Emma, how can you ask me to stay if you can’t even tell me how you feel? What are you asking me to stay for?” She didn’t have an answer. She just stared at her feet. He waited for a while, and she heard as his breath slowed and became a heavy sigh. “I should go,” he said, walking back over to the couch to grab his jacket. 

He was at the door when the panic seized her. The dread and the fear that he was leaving, that he was walking out of her life again, that it was her fault again, that she would surely lose him for good this time, overwhelmed her, reared its head and took over. What are you asking me to stay for? he’d asked. He hadn’t answered her question, hadn’t told her he didn’t love her. He’d just wanted a reason. She’d give him a reason if it meant he would stay. He’d been the one to put his heart on the line last time. Now it was her turn.

“Don’t go,” she said again and he stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “Don’t go. Don’t leave the apartment. Don’t go back to England. Don’t leave again. Please,” she begged.

He didn’t turn around but she heard him speak. “Why not?” 

“Because I love you,” she nearly shouted at him. “Okay? I’ve been in love with you since I was seventeen and I thought I could get over it but I can’t. I lost you once and I can’t lose you again so please,” she paused, a small sob leaving her. He turned around finally, walked back over to where she still stood against the counter. 

“Please just don’t go,” she said again, quieter this time. “I should have said it then but I’m saying it now. I’m being selfish and asking you to pass on your amazing opportunity. I’m asking you to choose me and be with me instead.”

He took her chin between his thumb and his finger dragged her gaze up from where it had been staring at her feet, met her eyes and her heart jumped at the softness there, the anger from earlier gone. “I’ll stay,” he said and she thought her knees would give out with the force of the relief, the hope hitting her all at once.

“What about your job?” she said hesitantly. Shut up, Emma. You got what you wanted. But she still cared - about his success and his dreams, even as she asked him to give them up.

“Fuck my job,” he said before his hand moved to her cheek and he slid his mouth over hers. Emma wanted to cry as she felt his lips move over her own. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, slanting his mouth over hers and she opened beneath him, let him explore her with lips and tongue, and his hands on her body. 

Her hands came up around his neck, tangling in his hair and dragging him closer, pressing herself against him until here was no room left between them at all. He backed her against the counter and she didn’t care even as she felt the hard ridge digging into her back. He groaned when she rolled her hips against the hard ridge digging into her belly. 

“Wait, wait,” he said, breath heavy and ragged as he pulled his lips away from hers.

“What?” she asked, suddenly nervous. That had been the best moment in her entire life and now she feared it would come crashing down, that he’d changed his mind. 

“I forgot to tell you that I love you too,” he said, sounding panicked. She looked at him in disbelief and in that moment he was exactly the boy she’d fallen in love with, awkward and sweet and nervous and just so stupid for such a smart person. “I love you,” he said. “I have for a decade. It never stopped for me either.” Whatever quip she had planned died on her tongue at the sincerity in his voice and on his face. 

She smiled before pulling his lips back to hers, standing on her tiptoes so that she could kiss him properly, the way she’d wanted to for ten years and hadn’t been able to. He kissed her back just as eagerly, lips and teeth and tongue driving her nearly as mad as his hands, which were everywhere at once, stoking the fire that had been burning inside of her since she’d pinned him against the fridge. 

“You’ve gotten better at this,” she teased when they pulled back a moment to catch their breath. He gave her a truly wicked grin. 

“I’ve gotten better at a great many things,” he promised, and she knew where he was going with it, was definitely on board with his plan… but she couldn’t help herself.

“Not Scrabble…” 

He bent down then, grabbing her around the knees and hoisting her up over his shoulder. She shrieked, laughing as he carried her the short distance to her bedroom, dropping her unceremoniously on the mattress. He was such a sore loser. 

He looked at her for a moment, standing at the edge of the bed before leaning down over her, bracing his hands on either side of her head, and lowering his face to hers so their lips nearly brushed as he spoke.

“Not Scrabble,” he conceded before that smile came back. “But a great many things.” 

[theastrophilearchitect]

February 2021 wrap-up.

Every book, audiobook, tv show and movie I consumed in February.

The phrase ‘wrap-up’ is so boring. I want to talk about books, TV shows and movies, so I can’t even call it a ‘reading wrap-up’, however pleasingly alliterative that sounds despite the fact that ‘wrap’ actually begins with a W. One of my favourite YouTubers, polandbananasBOOKS (that capitalisation is loud) calls her wrap-ups ‘Stories I Ate This Month’ which I love, but using exactly that seems wrong. I genuinely debated calling this ‘My Media Diet’, but the word ‘diet’ has so many negative connotations to me, so I dropped that. Besides ‘wrap-up’ all in lowercase followed by a full stop is aesthetically pleasing.

The Hunger Games and Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins (audiobook) I’ve read this series countless times. I read the series first time through six years ago, and, after finishing it, I just kept rereading it during silent reading time at school, so God only knows how many times I’ve read it at this point. This is actually the second time I’ve listened to this audiobook, and I still, of course, love it. When I first read it, this book stuck with me. It was the first teen book I ever read and, most unfortunately, put me into a dystopian phase. However, we got over that. I’m good now. I promise.

You know what this is about, but here it is anyway: in a dystopian future (of literally just North America, it never mentions what’s happening anywhere else), a country called Panem (literally the whole of North America) is divided into the luxurious, utopian Capitol, and thirteen districts, all of which gather or produce something for the Capitol. Some of the districts live in poverty, while others are afforded some luxuries but nowhere near those of the Capitol. It never really explains how this system came to be, but then there was a rebellion against the Capitol in which District Thirteen was destroyed, and every year two teenagers from each district are chosen to compete in the Hunger Games, where twenty-four tributes are put in an arena together to fight to the death, and the last person standing emerges victorious. It feels so strange to talk about the basic premise of this book without going into the rest of the trilogy, but I’ll leave it here.

I hate how the media washes this book out and plays it off as just another love triangle, which it barely even is. It has such an important message about society, and the fact that the media does that just proves how accurate it is. I can’t believe when I first read it I was actually Team Gale, but in truth I think that was just because I liked Liam Hemsworth better than Josh Hutcherson, which I still do, but not the point. Anyway, the narrator is excellent.

I’m not giving these booksa rating, both because it’s a reread and I like to base ratings off my initial opinion, and because the first time I read this book I was literally a small child, and part of my love is the nostalgia.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by VE Schwab

This was the first book I read with my eyes this month, and I ended up getting the ebook because it was just so much cheaper than getting a physical copy - I may have invested if I loved the UK cover as much as the US, I’m ashamed to say (above is UK). It was not what I was expecting.

This book was much more contemplation-heavy than I was expecting and actually very light on plot. In 1714, Adeline LaRue runs away from her wedding and prays to Gods, wishing to be free, and is answered by the darkness, who makes her a deal: he grants her immortality, and she promises him her soul when she doesn’t want it anymore. He, wanting her soul, twistedly grants her freedom by cursing her to be forgotten by everyone she ever meets. Three hundred years later, she meets someone who remembers her.

It’s really about life, freedom and time - there’s no direct message or moral, at least not that I picked up on, but it really makes you think. I do enjoy that in a book, but not as much as one where i just love the story. I generally prefer books where I’m rooting for the characters, and it’s full of ships - the kind of stories you would write fanfiction about, but this is the kind of book that I think will stick with me. I take issue with how cliché the ending was, though.

Anyway, I’m not actually sure how I want to rate this. As a British teenager, I’m not actually that familiar with lettered ratings, and I don’t really want to use stars, but I think I’m going to suck it up. Maybe I’ll think of something else eventually.

Rating: 4.5 stars - books that get five stars from me are generally based on the enjoyment factor, but this book deserved more than four.

Arrow Season 1

I’ve been semi-interested in the Arrowverse/DC TV universe for a while, and finally took the opportunity to delve in. This show is so insanely CW - everyone has that look, it has that tone and it takes itself way too seriously. By the 23rd time you’re hearing it, the recap becomes painful to listen to.

This was the first show in DC’s saga - the show picks up as Oliver Queen returns home from being stranded on an island for five years after a cruise ship sank. When the ship went down, his billionaire father sacrificed himself to save Oliver, and left him with a list of ‘the people poisoning [his] city’. Upon returning home, Oliver becomes the vigilante who will eventually become known as ‘Arrow’ or ‘Green Arrow’ (currently unclear; I’m not a comic book person) but is currently dubbed just ‘the Hood’ or ‘the vigilante’, with the goal of taking down the people on the list. It’s very intense.

It took me about ten episodes to actually get invested - which is nearly seven hours watch time - but, ultimately, I’m glad that I did. Aside from the excessive CW-ness of this show, I love the characters and I want to see what happens.

Still, why is everyone so obsesses with Laurel? What’s so great about Laurel? I don’t get it. Felicity is 10000% the best character - she’s relatable, cute, and I high-key ship her with Oliver.

This little rant of mine was unintelligible.

Rating: 4 stars

Guardians of the Galaxy

I’m not explaining what this movie is about. Honestly. This was just a rewatch: I’m currently rewatching every MCU movie in chronological order (as in, starting with Captain America: The First Avenger instead of Iron Man). For every TV season I finish, I watch a a movie, and I alternate between movie series, one of which is, at the moment, MCU films. It’s hard for me to briefly explain my weird watching patterns.

I love this movie so much. It was the first really upbeat MCU movie, and I love the characters.

I don’t really have much to say about this, but if you haven’t watched MCU movies, please watch them. Even if you don’t want to, this movie is absolutely worth watching and you don’t need to watch any other MCU movies for context.

I Am Not Okay With This Season 1

I’m reeling from this show. I literally can’t tell whether or not this is getting a second season; it seems like it was meant to, but then got cancelled, and now I can’t tell.

This show follows a high school student named Sydney. She’s your typical outcast, and isn’t interested in getting ‘in’ - she’s best friends with a girl named Dina; they both came to their school around the same time and ended up friends, though Dina is your typical pretty girl. Then Syd discovers she has powers that operate based on her emotions, and I really don’t want to say anything else. But it does star Sophia Lillis and Wyatt Oleff, who you likely know as two of the kids in IT (the clown movie, not like computing).

Honestly, episodes 1-6 were very chill, more focused on teenage life than her powers, then episode 7 brought it. Up until the end of episode 7, I enjoyed the show and would be happy to watch a second season, but I wasn’t particularly invested or excited by it. Then episode 7. I would love a second season of this show. I have to at least know where the writers were going with it.

This show came out last year, and I only just got to it, but I can’t believe I haven’t heard anybody talking about it. It’s intense, it’s entertaining, and the first season will only take up about two and a half hours of your time (it’s seven 19-28 minute episodes).

Rating: 4 stars

Blue Lily, Lily Blue and The Raven King by Maggie Stiefvater

I listened to The Raven Cycle audiobooks in 2019, and I’m not sure why because I didn’t even enjoy them that much. I did, however, decide I wanted to read Call Down the Hawk, the first book in the spin-off series, and that meant I had to reread The Raven Cycle since I had paid so little attention to the audiobooks, which I started in January and I love this series. Not what I expected from a reread of a series I paid virtually no attention to, but here we are.

This is book 3 in The Raven Cycle series, book 1 being The Raven Boys, which is a paranormal book in which the protagonist Blue, is the only non-psychic in a family of psychics, and has been told her whole life that if she kisses her true love, she will kill him. Then, on St Somebody’s Eve (Mark’s? I want to say Mark’s but I’m not sure), when she goes with her aunt to see the spirits of the people who will die in the next year, she sees one of the spirits, a boy from Aglionby Academy, the local private school, meaning he is either her true love, or she is the one who kills him, which in her case, could very much be both. Then that boy schedules a reading with her psychic family to help him find an old Welsh king, and there is so much more than that to this glorious series, but I’ll stop here.

I think my main thing in books and general media is the characters. They have to follow some kind of sensible plot, but if I’m not invested in the characters, I can’t get invested in the story. I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever been so in love with a cast of characters, not even in Six of Crows - this story is so character-driven, and I can’t get enough. This was an excellent continuation, and so much happened, but it did feel like its purpose was just to set up the final book, so I didn’t enjoy this one quite as much as the previous two.

Rating: 4 stars

As for The Raven King - this was the last book I read this month, finishing it on the morning of the 27th because I knew I would have very little reading time from mid-afternoon until twenty-four hours later.

In complete honesty, I found the climax of this book to be a little rushed - we spend the whole series aware that Gansey’s looking for Glendower, but it never seems to be more prevalent than just their general investigations as to what the hell is happening. As a result, when it came to that in this book, it felt a little out of the blue (no pun intended).

Regardless, this series so well balances strong characters and strong plot where so many others fail, and I love it.

Rating: 5 stars

Fate: The Winx Saga Season 1

This show is a live-action rated-15 Netflix adaptation of one of my favourite childhood shows, Winx Club. And, honestly, you can tell.

I tried to watch this objectively, instead of complaining about how they cut some of my favourite characters and changed so many (Tecna, Riven, Beatrix, Stella, Brandon etc.). While I was upset about some of the cuts, I can agree that they were best for the story. Where in the original, every fairy had their own unique powers, this adaptation splits it into five elements: fire (Bloom), water (Aisha - on another note, screw Aisha, honestly), air (Beatrix), earth (Terra) and mind (Musa), though Stella still has light powers? Which is never explained?

Anyway, this follows teenage Bloom as she discovers she’s a fairy and goes through her first year at a fairy school called Alfea.

I’m not going to go too deep into this because I have so much to say about this show that i think I’m going to make a whole separate review rather than bore you with it now. 

Quality-wise, this show was mediocre, but enjoyment and nostalgia raise its rating for me because I’m biased.

Rating: 4 stars

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

This is both Bardugo’s first adult novel and her first novel not set in the Grishaverse. I read the Grisha trilogy for the first time years ago and didn’t like it that much, but followed that right up with the Six of Crows duology which I loved. I read King of Scars in 2019 when it came out, and started listening to the King of Scars audiobook just before I started reading this in preparation for Rule of Wolves at the end of March.

I loved this. I don’t think I have anything to criticise quality-wise - the characters had depth, there were plot twists and strong subplots, the world was incredibly well built, and the only thing that got me to put this book down was taking a week to start working on my own writing project (post coming soon). Because I took that week completely off reading, this book took me about two weeks total from start to finish, but it was so worth it.

This novel follows Alex Stern, a twenty-year-old whose friends have all been murdered. She was found beside one of them who died of a overdose, with the same drug in her system. But Alex can see ghosts, and, soon after her friends’ deaths, is consequently offered a scholarship to Yale University, on the condition that she works for the ninth House of the Veil to monitor the activities of Yale’s secret societies.

In complete candour, I found this book somewhat convoluted, though most of that was probably mainly my own poor reading comprehension. Regardless, I loved the plot, and am very highly anticipating the eventual release of its as-of-yet unnamed sequel.

Rating: 4.5 stars

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

So I actually finished this audiobook briefly after finishing Blue Lily, Lily Blue, but I’m tacking it on here because I forgot to add it to the list and already explained my Grishaverse experience in my Ninth House comments.

So, yes, I love this duology, and it really opened a new compartment in my writing brain, even though I haven’t really taken advantage of that writing brain until now (again, post coming soon).

King of Scars by Leigh Bardugo

I am realising I’ve read eight books this month, and nearly half of them were by Leigh Bardugo. Which makes sense, considering how much I enjoy her books.

This book is slower-paced than most of hers, but it does follow two (one of which splits again) completely separate storylines, and is still excellent and entertaining.

I listened to this for a recap before Rule of Wolves is released on March 30th.

[thelucyverse]

Andromaquynh fic: In Your Stead

Read full fic on ao3 | WIP trash Part 1-Part 15

Jessus fucking christ lilo it's 4:17 why are you writing fanfic

Alright at this point I don't know whether the timeline lines up switch-wise but who cares I'll fix it for ao3

...it's 5 am now so my inability to care about accuracies and consistencies miight have something to do with that~ perhaps I should wait to finish this until tomorrow

It is now tomorrow and I have a sleep deprivation induced headache, but I'm still gonna keep writing bc I could get an email from my prof any minute now bc that woman apparently hasn't heard of the invention of a weekend, and then I'm busy with thesis again, sooo

Also I looked it up and around England the sea is about a hundred metres deep and the deepest a submarine went is 10000 so yea

I rly gotta rewatch the movie before I post this on ao3 to get more accurate quotes etc ;{

But for now, as is

Part 16:

Andy is so incredibly done with the world.

She has tried again and again to find Quynh, has actually made it to the bottom of the ocean now. Around England, it's not even that deep- what once seemed impossible now easily doable with legally if sketchily obtained military grade submarines... Goodness, there are other submarines that made it a hundred times deeper than the ocean in the areas Quynh is most likely to be.

Still, she hasn't found her.

Getting down there is no longer the problem- finding the correct place is. Kilometres upon kilometres of space. Metal detectors are useless, too, with how much trash humans have thrown into the ocean in the recent past. It feels like every invention, every bit of progress on this planet, is made null and void by people being complete and utter arseholes.

And there are so many of those.

What has Andy's mood down even more is the fact that, when going on missions with the team, she has to deal with people who are plain Evil on a daily basis. Not only that, but their missions all seem to be so useless. There are no longer wars to win on a single battlefield, only single terrorists to stop while five others do their thing elsewhere, criminals to detain and crimes to stop that are so vile they are even new to Andromache.

She keeps fighting for humanity but humanity has yet to prove that it is worth fighting for.

~

For a year, Andy sticks to herself.

Ignoring the missions and the team and the rest of humanity. She barely talks to Yusuf and Nicolò, unable to handle their Cheerful when she is feeling so down. When she texts Booker in-between dives, it's only to commiserate about how there are no good things to live for (later, she will curse herself for that).

At the moment, she has a single focus: she needs to find Quynh, the one person she can count on being Good. The one person she really Loves. (Alright, that isn't fair on the rest of the team, but at the moment she only associates them with misery).

She still doesn't find her.

When she is sitting back in her flat, crossing out parts of her maps of the sea go show where she has already checked and despairing about the fact that even that doesn't mean much when the metal coffin and Quynh in it could have moved who knows how far in the meantime through currents or animals or whatever- when Booker calls her about a mission, she's desperate enough for a change that she accepts.

~

Morocco hasn't changed much since Andy last visited. A smile curls her lips as she remembers Nico's antics with the Baklava. She wonders whether he will have bought any again this time.

“So, why are we here?”

Booker wants to work with an old contact again. Andy knows it’s a bad idea. One of the few hard rules she has followed for millenia, in fact. But... She’s so done caring. She doesn’t have the energy to fight. She wants to go on a successful mission with her friends, and if they can save those kids...

They go to meet the others. Andy hugs Nicky, hard, before she lets Joe whirl her around the room- he’s probably the only person who would do that and survive. Surrounded by her family, Andy feels like her smile is real again for once.

After that, it turns into a shitshow really really fast.

Andy feels exhausted.

It might take years until they take out everyone involved to get rid of the immediate threat, centuries before everyone involved and their children are gone and she won’t have to worry about them anymore.

She just wants to live! It feels like, for centuries now, all she ever did was survive.

Maybe humans just weren’t made for immortality.

Just after she thinks that, of course, they dream of the new one.

~

There's still more to come :)

[gravitasfalls]

A rant on fandom etiquette, the GF fandom, and what they did 4 years ago (and now)

By now, my “bullshit” tag has refuted most of the ridiculous hot takes, fun policing, and harassment that fans of Stanford Pines have had to face from the wider Gravity Falls fandom. But these rebuttals fall short of naming the real problem with anti-Ford wank: we never should have seen it in the first place.

People might have genuinely forgotten this, but fandom used to have etiquette against character hate. We called it “wank” and “bashing” instead of dignifying it as “discourse”. As late as 2014, fandoms on this very site had “X hate” or “anti-X” tagging systems for blacklisting, as courtesy to people who liked X thing...

...a far cry from GF fans of 2015 demonizing Ford in the most inexplicable ways, making every post a platform for that, siccing their followers on anyone fully positive about him, then pretending that never happened post-finale as they continue the bashing more insidiously to this day.

Like, what even was that? There’s a lot to unpack in those people’s arguments but let’s just throw out the whole suitcase.

(Under the cut: Snapshots of discourse I shouldn’t have had to put up with over the years, and snark-based coping with that. It gets ugly, you’ve been warned.)

Ford is irredeemable/deserves to suffer, why he didn’t even thank Stan!!1

Thanks I hate it! “It” being your apparent decision that, because you can’t make the fictional character suffer, real people who like him are the next best thing.

Ford is egotistical! Have I mentioned on literally every post I think his only trait is “egotistical”?

You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means. But while that is just, like, your opinion man, you’re entitled to it on your own posts; you’re falsely entitled about it by forcing it on dissenters’ posts and inboxes.

*dumps negativity into inboxes anyway*

Your Hot Takes have disturbed and insulted me. You fools are unworthy of my great knowledge. The era of human enlightenment shall never come to pass.

You really think Ford is some kind of hero?

Only after you told me I wasn’t Allowed to see him as one and I Examined My Desires™ like you demanded! Funny how critical thinking ≠ agreeing with you.

Ford is your favorite? WHY DO YOU HATE MABEL.

Better question, why are you copying “WHY DO YOU HATE AMERICA” logic? 9/11 did fan drama I swear

Ford is NOT PURE OF HEEEAAART, so you have to Constantly Explicitly Acknowledge his Sins and interrogate what relating to him says about you.

I got no friends ‘cause they read the papers. It’s funny, actually, projecting onto him got me dangerously close to processing some negative experiences from my past... good thing I have you here to shut those thoughts down <3 Thanks for saving me from myself uwu

If you just want to project onto a comfort character in peace, Stan is right there! His lack of fantasy elements makes him more relatable anyway!

Ford brought Bill’s manipulation on himself!

Damn fandom, back at it again with the GROSS VICTIM BLAMING

FFS why is this take as prominent now as ever??? at least the outlandish criticisms were funny, this one just makes me want to be dead.

Ford is abusive/manipulative because he doesn’t make fun of Dipper/ made a case for his apprenticeship/ called Mabel good/ complimented her personality!

(Yes, people did these mental gymnastics; yes, my soul left my body instantly.)

STOP trying to justify Ford’s actio-ma’am this is an Arby’s. also:

Ford is the Epitome of Toxic Masculinity, if you defend him either he’s your Male Power Fantasy or you’re a ditzy fangirl broad with ovaries for brains!

Ah yes, the two genders. Pack it in, everyone, we’ve reached peak feminism and patriarchy is over.

Someone negativity-tagged my Ford post, WTF?! I’m not “anti-Ford”, I’m “pro Ford-learning-a-lesson”!

And pro his-fans-never-having-a-moment-of-peace, apparently! Sorry I assumed you were a hater by your complete lack of positive things to say about him tho

Ford is a sociopath/deserves death for having no empathy!

"Tumblr is as ableist as any majority-conservative site," I say into the mic. The crowd boos. I begin to walk off in shame, when a voice speaks and commands silence from the room. "You’re right," they say. I look for the owner of the voice. There in the 3rd row stands: tumblr.

*Dozens of 10000+ note posts calling Ford stupid, manipulative, solely at fault for everything that went wrong, other inanities*

(This is the fandom that made me get Xkit. I’m sure hundreds of my 1000+ blocked posts are theirs.)

If you like Ford on any terms but ours then I’m sorry, but Gravity Falls just isn’t for you, k?

I don’t have a flippant response to this one. Just... stop. No one has to agree with you about this character; no, nor with me. No one even has to engage with fandom moralistically; I promise it wouldn’t hurt anyone if I were to watch this show without having to Interrogate its Morality. It wouldn’t even hurt if people voiced character hate within reasonable bounds of tagging, as I’ve said. But instead they spread it like the plague in the name of Purity and insinuated (using ages-old “ur a fake fan!!1″ no less) that we don’t get to have outlets. I’m tired.

Look at my hilarious/satisfying art of Ford saying OOC strawman things, Stan beating him up, the kids turning their backs on him! (Srsly look at it I’ve put it in all the tags)

You’re madness, Gravity Falls fandom. Virulent madness. And everything you touch dies with you.

This is only a fraction of shit we’ve had to wade through, practically every day while the show was running. You couldn’t avoid it if you followed popular blogs. I saw the best meta writers of my fandom dogpiled by BNFs, dragging themselves through the blue hellsite at dawn looking for a fix-it fix. And people now expect me to believe it was “just Discourse” or that anything equivalent happened “in reverse” toward Stan. If I didn’t know better that they don’t know better, I’d call gaslighting.

I don’t expect to change anything. In fact, until this blog’s next go-around I don’t intend on seeking out new content anymore. I can’t keep looking at a fandom where the consensus on a canonically abused character’s victimization is that it was stupid, funny, a moral failing, or deserved, and expect anything to improve.

But to anyone else these people hurt: your anger or upset is valid, and I’m sorry. None of us deserved this. And I’m not letting it follow me into the next decade and make me forget why I liked this show in the first place, even if the only way to do that right now is cut off from the fandom a bit. I’m telling you, it never should have come to that. I don’t know if negativity-tagging can ever catch on here, considering tumblr has no boundaries by design and fandom no boundaries by choice... but for the sake of everyone who comes next, Gravity Falls fandom, make an effort.

[lonelier-version-of-you]

Finally listening to Folklore. I did a ‘thoughts on...’ post for Lover, so I suppose it’s only fair I do one for this album too. So, here we go.

I’ll give my thoughts, list favourite lyrics, and rate each track as I did before. Also - because if you’re the type of person who follows me, then we all know this is probably the information you’re REALLY looking for - I’m gonna rate each song based on how Johnrik it is.

the 1:

A gorgeous opening track. It has a lovely, wistful tone to it.

Favourite lyrics: “Persist and resist the temptation to ask you / if one thing had been different / would everything be different today?” “But we were something, don’t you think so? Roaring 20s, tossing pennies in the pool / and if my wishes came true, it would’ve been you / in my defense, I have none / for never leaving well enough alone”.

7/10. Johnrik rating: 9/10.

Rest of the album under the cut ‘cause this is LONG.

cardigan:

Oh, I LOVE this song. It starts out tender and beautiful and slowly turns into sad and equally beautiful.

Favourite lyrics: “You drew stars around my scars / but now I’m bleeding” “But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss / I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs / the smell of smoke would hang around this long / ‘cause I knew everything when I was young”

8/10. Johnrik rating: 8/10.

the last great american dynasty:

PERFECTION. Taylor really shows her gift for not just songwriting, but storytelling here. This is already one of my favourite songs from the album.

Favourite lyrics: “They say she was seen on occasion / pacing the rocks staring out at the midnight sea / and in a feud with her neighbor / she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green / fifty years is a long time / Holiday House sat quietly on that beach / free of women with madness / their men and bad habits, and then it was bought by me”

10/10. Johnrik rating: N/A, because it’s very specific but it’s also a fantastic song so I felt guilty giving 0/10.

exile (ft. Bon Iver):

I wasn’t that into this song but then Taylor started singing and WOW. It’s really good.

Favourite lyrics: “I never learned to read your mind | Never learned to read my mind / I couldn’t turn things around | You never turned things around / ‘cause you never gave a warning sign | I gave so many signs”

9/10. Johnrik rating: 10/10.

my tears richochet:

FUCK FUCK FUCK THIS IS LITERALLY SO JOHN @ HENRIK VIBES I’M GOING TO CRY.

This is also an absolutely stunning song with a brilliant concept behind it, and definitely a favourite. BUT FUCK THE LYRICS ARE SO JOHN’S GHOST HAUNTING HENRIK ARRRGHHHH.

Favourite lyrics: “And if I’m dead to you / why are you at the wake?” “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace / and so the battleships will sink beneath the waves / you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same”

10/10. Johnrik rating: 10000/10.

mirrorball:

Another beautiful song and probably one I’ll have on repeat for a while yet. I could see this one being a really successful single.

Favourite lyrics: “Hush / when no one is around, my dear / you’ll find me on my tallest tiptoes / spinnin’ in my highest heels, love / shining just for you” “I’m still a believer but I don’t know why / I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try / I’m still on that trapeze, I’m still tryin’ everything / to keep you looking at me”

10/10. Johnrik rating: 8/10.

seven:

This song is lovely, but I’m not gonna lie, any song that uses childhood stuff as a metaphor always puts me off because it just makes my traumatised ass feel alienated.

Favourite lyrics: “And I’ve been meaning to tell you / I think your house is haunted / your dad is always mad and that must be why / and I think you should come live with me / and we can be pirates / then you won’t have to cry / or hide in the closet”.

I’ll give this a, fittingly, 7/10. Johnrik rating: 4/10.

august:

I like songs where Taylor does that breathy thing with her voice, so I automatically love this one. The lyrics are great too.

Favourite lyrics: “But I can see us lost in the memory / August slipped away into a moment in time / ‘cause it was never mine / and I can see us twisted in bedsheets / August sipped away like a bottle of wine / ‘cause you were never mine”

8/10. Johnrik rating: 7/10.

this is me trying:

This song is very sonically interesting - it sounds quite unique. So I like that.

It also resonates with me, really hard. Definitely going on my ‘songs to listen to when I’m sad’ playlist.

Favourite lyrics: “They told me all my cages were mental / so I got wasted like all my potential / and my words shoot to kill when I’m mad / I have a lot of regrets about that / I was so ahead of the curve that the curve became a sphere / fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here”

10/10 because I can relate so much to it. Johnrik rating: 6/10, I could see John singing this to Henrik.

illicit affairs:

Oh, HERE it is! The Gay Song of the album! Wondered when we were gonna get around to that. Some of Taylor’s songs, you can just tell are about women, and this is one of them.

Favourite lyrics: “Leave the perfume on the shelf / that you picked out just for him / so you leave no trace behind / like you don’t even exist / take the words for what they are / a dwindling, mercurial high / a drug that only worked / the first few hundred times”

9/10. Johnrik rating: also 9/10.

invisible string:

This is cute. I like it. Reminds me a lot of Paper Rings.

Favourite lyrics: “Bold was the waitress on our three-year trip getting lunch down by the lakes / she said I looked like an American singer”

7/10. Johnrik rating: 3/10.

mad woman:

I knew from the title my crazy-and-proud self was gonna LOVE this song. Spoiler: I love it. It’s like a stripped-down version of an Emilie Autumn song, that’s the sort of vibe it has. Also Taylor said “fuck” and it was brilliant.

Favourite lyrics: “Every time you call me crazy / I get more crazy / what about that? / and when you say I seem angry / I get more angry”

“And there’s nothing like a mad woman / what a shame she went mad / no one likes a mad woman / you made her like that / and you poked that bear ‘til her claws come out / and you find something to wrap your noose around / and there’s nothing like a mad woman”

“The master of spin / has a couple side flings / good wives always know / she should be mad / should be scathing like me / but no one likes a mad woman”

10/10, again because it means a lot to me. Johnrik rating: N/A. (Though if you wanted to get a Holby connection in there, you could probably spin it into a Jac song...)

epiphany:

This is a beautiful ballad, and the meaning behind it is lovely.

Favourite lyrics: “And some things you just can’t speak about”

9/10. Johnrik rating: N/A again.

betty:

I said ‘illicit affairs’ was the Gay Song. Nevermind. TAYLOR IS LITERALLY PUTTING OUT LOVE SONGS TO WOMEN AND NONE OF YOU GUYS ARE NOTICING. I know it’s written from the perspective of a male character, but still??

Favourite lyrics: “If I showed up at your party / Would you have me? Would you want me? / Would you tell me to go fuck myself, or lead me to the garden?”

8/10. Johnrik rating: Another N/A I’m afraid. Though I kind of like to imagine young!Henrik and Maja to this song, in an AU where he 1. came back to her after running away and 2. wasn’t probably too mentally ill to be a parent or hold down a steady relationship.

peace:

This is such a lovely song. The theme reminds me a bit of ‘In Love But Not At Peace’ by Dar Williams - though that one’s a much sadder take, this one has some hope to it.

Favourite lyrics: “But I’m a fire and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm / if your cascade ocean blue waves come / all these people think love’s for show / but I would die for you in secret / the devil’s in the details / but you’ve got a friend in me / would it be enough, if I could never give you peace?”

8/10. Johnrik rating: 7/10.

hoax:

OH HEY SHE JUST GOES AND CLOSES OUT THE ALBUM WITH ANOTHER JOHNRIK SONG. THERE GOES MY HEART. “Don’t want no other shade of blue, but you / no other sadness in the world would do”... that’s them alright. Fuck, I’m emotional.

Favourite lyrics: “This has frozen my ground / stood on the cliffside screaming ‘give me a reason’ / your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in”

10/10. Johnrik rating: also 10/10.

Overall album rating: 9/10.

[chemicalmagecraft]

The Gamer Hero, Deku Chapter 25

A/N: Thanks for all the positive comments, everyone! I tried to get this done quicker than the last chapter.

This is a fun chapter, by the way. For one, I realized just after publishing that Izuku just cast a temporary creation-type spell augmented with a temporary enchantment-type spell like a hundred times, and both of those were near prestige. For another, you might have forgotten considering how long ago it was (feels like it's been half a year...), but Izuku got a quest for participating in the sports festival. ;)

xoxoxo

A skill has been created through special action! The skill 'Imaginary Architect' has been created through Bound Blade reaching MAX level!

A skill has been created through special action! The skill 'Item Enchantment' has been created through Elemental Weaponry reaching MAX level!

I closed the text boxes that appeared while I was throwing an inordinate amount of weapons at Kacchan. Those looked insanely useful but there wasn't much rush, so I planned on setting some time aside later to read those, paying very close attention. For now, though, it was time for the rewards ceremony.

The rewards ceremony. For the Yuuei sports festival. That I won. When I went to the podium that the first-, second-, and third-place winners were supposed to stand on I felt like I was floating. "I can't believe I placed first in the Yuuei sports festival!" I thought to myself. I was about to step onto the first place plat- Oh wait I actually was floating. Huh. Weird, it felt almost natural... Luckily the podium was underground for added showmanship, so nobody actually saw me floating.

"Were you just floating, Deku?" Kacchan asked. Well, almost nobody saw me...

I scratched the back of my head. "Haha... I kinda got excited. Didn't even notice."

Kacchan looked skeptical. "How the hell didn't you notice you were floating? I feel like that's the kind of thing you'd notice."

"I'll tell you later." Then I decided to show off a bit. I activated Float, on purpose this time, and floated up onto the podium without turning around. Kacchan snorted and jumped onto the second-place spot.

"Isn't this tres magnifique?" Aoyama asked us as he got on the third place platform. Normally Iida would join him as the other person in third place, but he'd left earlier, telling us that his brother was attacked by a villain. I hoped he was okay...

After a few minutes of us waiting, Sonia alerted me that Midnight-sensei was about to announce us. The hole above us filled with smoke and bright flashes of light from fireworks as our podium started to rise. I got into what I hoped was a distinctive, but not too weird, pose as the confetti started falling on us. Well, it fell around me and on the other two. I flashed a little smile at Halitus and Juniper just before we rose into view.

"Iida is also in third place, but he had to leave for family problems," Midnight added. "Now, to present the medals, we have..." she pointed at the top of the wall of the arena, where a familiar shadow appeared.

"AH HA HA HA!" All Might shout-laughed, then jumped down in front of the podium. "I have come to present the medals!" Midnight presented the medals to All Might. He picked up the bronze medal and approached Aoyama. He smiled at him as he gave him the medal. "Young Aoyama, your resolve was impressive. Even though you suffered hardships, you persevered, and look at where you ended up. You will make a fine hero." He gave him a small hug and went back to get the silver medal. "Young Bakugou," he said as he put the silver medal around Kacchan's neck, "you have shown so much fire today, literal and metaphorical. You might perhaps want to tone down the aggressiveness just a bit, but you are very well on your way to becoming a great hero. I mean it." Kacchan grinned like an idiot as All Might went to get the gold medal.

The gold medal that he placed around my neck. All Might was giving me the sports festival gold medal I had dreamed of this moment, literally dreamed, for years! "Young Midoriya, you are... are you vibrating? And glowing?" I totally didn't stop vibrating because I totally wasn't glowing in the first place. I noticed that in my excitement that totally didn't cause me to literally vibrate I failed to notice a series of text boxes that had popped upholyshitwhatisthat.

Congratulations! The quest Sports Festival was completed!

Completion Rewards: 10000 EXP, 10000 Skill Fragments, Quirk menu unlocked, Mending unlocked, Blackwhip unlocked, Singularity unlocked

Bonus rewards for performance

Placed first in Obstacle Race: Swift as the Wind title, 5000 EXP, 5000 Skill Fragments, +2 to all stats, A copy of the Quirk of one member of Yuuei of your choice added to Quirk Shop

Placed first in Cavalry Battle: Cavalry Leader title, 5000 EXP, 5000 Skill Fragments, +3 to all stats, A copy of the Quirk of one participant of Cavalry Battle of your choice added to Quirk Shop

Placed first in Tournament: Champion of Yuuei title, 10000 EXP, 10000 Skill Fragments, +10 to all stats, The copies of the Quirks of the people you defeated unlocked, Copies of the Quirks of the other participants of Tournament added to Quirk Shop

Your level has increased by one! (x2)

Okay. That was... something. Several somethings stacked on top of each other, actually. I had actually forgotten all about that quest. I mean I know I just got first place in the Yuuei sports festival, but those rewards... Sure I didn't get any milestones from the stat boosts, but +15 to all stats. And it was pretty obvious what "A copy of the Quirk of..." meant, and that was ludicrous on its own even if there was a pretty big downside..."

"Young Midoriya, are you okay?" All Might asked me. "You've been staring at the air and muttering for a while now and even knowing what your Quirk is I'm starting to get worried."

I jumped. "Oh, sorry! I'm fine, I just got a really surprising quest reward." I looked at Kacchan and Aoyama stealthily, noted that they were staring at me, and then had Sonia whisper in his ear.

"I'd like to talk to you later. Hopefully it's not a pressing matter, but it's kind of serious."

All Might nodded. "I understand, young Midoriya," his voice whispered in my ear, just like I'd done with him. "You should have free time later. I'll meet you in my office." He then turned around to address the audience. "This was an amazing sports festival, folks! These three fine young men took the top three, but if could have gone very differently! Who knows, maybe in an alternate universe young Tokoyami reached third place, young Todoroki was in second, and young Bakugou was the one who won out in the end? It's that aspect of the sports festival that I admire the most! The way that everyone works their hardest and challenges each other for the spot at the top! It's wonderful! Now, there's one last thing I'd like to say to the students!" He pointed to the heavens. "Say it with me, folks!"

"PLUS ULTRA!" everyone in the stands shouted at once, at the same time that All Might said, "Thank you for your hard work!"

"WHAT!?"

xoxoxo

I checked out the Quirk menu, which I'd found in the main menu, while I walked to All Might's office. It was a menu that looked like the skill menu, except it was divided into two sections. The first one, labeled Quirks, looked like a list of all the Quirks I had unlocked and man was that an amazing sentence to have just thought. I put aside the two popups asking me to pick from a long list of Quirks, which luckily didn't have a time limit so I would scroll through those later. The first one on the list was surprisingly enough not The Gamer, which was the second. Instead it was that Singularity Quirk I'd gotten with the rest of the quest rewards. I tapped it, bringing up the text box.

Singularity (Emitter)

A distortion in the fabric of reality that can pull in anything, even the immaterial. It fuels The Gamer's miraculous power.

Usage does not use MP but instead lowers HP and MP regeneration, scaling with usage. Overuse causes HP and MP regeneration to stay lowered for longer.

Well that raised more questions than it answered. I... guess it made sense, considering the fact that my mom's Quirk let her pull in small objects, but it was also completely out of left field. I sighed and put it aside for now. I had a lot on my plate already, Singularity probably wasn't going anywhere. I checked The Gamer. That one didn't have anything surprising, just what I knew already from Gamer's Mind and Gamer's Body. Actually, I checked my skill menu and noticed that Gamer's Mind, Gamer's Body, One For All, and presumably the other Quirks that were in my skill menu were gone. I checked the rest of the Quirks from One For All. They looked about right. Mending was a rewinding Quirk that only worked on inanimate objects, which I was actually really excited to play with. It was time manipulation! Blackwhip, meanwhile, had slightly confusing wording, but it looked like it was energy tentacles. That one old Spider-Man theme song may or may not have played in my head when I read it.

Then I looked at the Quirks I got from the tournament. Brainwashing, Half-Cold Half-Hot, Engine, and Explosion. All of them were powerful Quirks, and now I just had them. I felt like they were there, but they weren't... active, I guess. The same went for the other Quirks aside from Singularity, The Gamer, and One For All, now that I thought about it. After a moment of thought I "activated" Explosion. My hands tingled for a second. I carefully, carefully triggered it.

Bang!

I jumped and looked around. It looked like there was nobody around to see the small explosion I just made.

I just used Kacchan's Quirk.

I laughed, then stared at my hands. Next I activated Half-Cold Half-Hot. My right side got colder and my left side got hotter. I laughed as frost spread across my right hand and fire danced on my left. Then I made a few small explosions, proving that the two Quirks were both active at the same time. I activated Blackwhip and-

System Warning: Using multiple non-native Quirks at once may lower efficacy and exaggerate downsides. This can be improved with training.

Fair enough. I turned my new Quirks off. Then I wondered how Mutant Quirks would work with that. I decided not to try Iida's Quirk, at least at first, and instead looked at the second part of the Quirk menu: Quirk Shop. The first Quirk on that part was Sludge Body. From the looks of things it was the Quirk of that sludge villain that attacked me all that time ago, though it didn't have any description aside from saying it was a Mutant Quirk and what looked like a cost in Skill Fragments. I scrolled down the surprisingly long list, though not actually as surprising when I realized it looked like the Quirks of all the people I'd gotten EXP from beating like another kind of spoil, for what I hoped was a Mutant Quirk. If it was, it was hands down the best Quirk I could think of to have it permanently on.

There. I bought it, burning through 2000 SF, and turned it on immediately.

Super Regeneration (Mutant)

Just like I'd hoped, I could turn it off at will. I used Draining Hands on myself to lower my HP by half and stifle my HP regen, then activated Super Regeneration. My HP regeneration skyrocketed for a moment, but went back down to its normal level when I turned it off. That was enough for me to be comfortable testing out Engine. Which caused my pant legs to rip when my thighs grew and sprouted mufflers. Honestly I should've seen that coming. I turned Engine off, which confirmed that turning off Mutant Quirks made the mutations automatically disappear like a Transformation Quirk, which made about as much sense as the fact that I could now copy people's Quirks and there was no indication that it was temporary. Then I tested out Mending. Like I thought, it made my pants good as new. Well, good as it was about one minute ago. That was awesome.

And then I noticed that I was standing in front of All Might's office and he was staring at me through the window, blood dripping out of his gaping mouth. A pink-haired boy wearing a matching cardigan appeared next to me with a sound like a heartbeat. He had oddly-shaped ears that had feelers on them that reminded me of Jirou's Quirk, except they curled up at the end instead of becoming earphone jacks. He was still a basic elemental, which wasn't surprising considering the fact that I'd only thought to Observe All Might at his lower-level form for affinities a week ago. Turned out he had a few points of sound affinity, so he was able to summon Seth. "This is what you meant when you said 'it's not a pressing matter, but it's kind of serious,' isn't it?" He said the quoted words in my voice, which was weird.

"Yeah. I can explain, by the way."

All Might nodded and opened the door. "Let's talk."

xoxoxo

All Might contemplated what I told him. "I see," he said after a while. "That is... interesting."

"I was a little worried because it reminded me of what you said about All For One," I said.

All Might laughed. "You thought I was worried about that? I've seen copying Quirks before. In fact, young Monoma in 1-B has a copy Quirk. If I freaked out at every person with a Quirk that I thought could be related to One For All I'd have lost my spot as number one long ago, if not my hero license."

"Oh good," I sighed in relief.

He patted me on the shoulder. "Really, young Midoriya. Have more faith in me, please."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Sorry..."

"You're okay, young Midoriya. I understand where you were coming from."

"Also I figured I should probably tell you about it because you're my heroics teacher and Quirk copying is probably the kind of thing you should tell a heroics teacher."

"That sounds about right."

Seth placed a tray with two cups of tea on the table. "The tea is done," he said. "Be careful, it's hot." He smiled and faded with another heartbeat.

"He seems nice," I said.

All Might nodded. "He is nice. He helps me around the house, too."

"That's good. Unless you have something you want to talk to me about, I think I should go now. I still have some time before I need to be there, but I should get back to homeroom."

"Goodbye, young Midoriya. Congratulations again."

xoxoxo

Aizawa-sensei was smiling. Even though it was only a little grin it was honestly a little disturbing. "You all performed well today," He told us. "There are a few things I think you could've done better but, well, there's no such thing as perfect. Now I'm sure you're all excited to go home, so I won't keep you long. You have tomorrow and the day after off to rest up. Class dismissed." As everyone got up to leave, Aizawa-sensei said, "Oh, and I want to talk to you, Midoriya." It wasn't too loud, but Sonia made sure I heard it.

I waited until everyone was out of the room and walked up to Aizawa-sensei. "What did you need me for?" I asked.

"Shuzenji wants to see you sometime over the break. Something about your private lessons."

"Thanks for telling me," I said. Then I looked at one of the two popups asking me to pick a Quirk, the one from the obstacle race. I scrolled it down near the bottom of the Es, looking for what was probably one of the more useful Quirks for me. Jackpot. "Actually, I have something I want to talk to you about..."

Erasure (Emitter)

xoxoxo

"I'm home!" I shouted as I walked through the door.

"Leaf hair!" Yang meowed, darting up to me. She purred and rubbed her head against my leg.

"Hey, girl," I said as I started petting her. I picked her up and started rubbing her as I walked inside.

"IZUKU!" Mom shouted as she ran into me, tears streaming down her face. She hugged me, getting my shoulder wet.

"Are you okay, mom?" I asked.

She wiped her eyes and gave me a big smile. "It's just... You won! You did it and you were so amazing and I'm so happy for you!"

I felt my own eyes water. "Ha, thank you. It was so unbelievable, to be honest." I pulled her in for another hug.

"I recorded the whole thing, if you want to watch it," she offered.

I smiled. "Yeah, let's watch it together."

She smiled. "Yeah, let's do that."

"Oh yeah by the way I can copy Quirks now."

She froze. "WHAT!?"

xoxoxo

Annnd now I wanna write the next chapter, but I have things I have to do...

Elemental list:

Midoriya: Halitus, Dune, Rayne, Blaise, Juniper, Mifuyu, Raimon, Iggy, Sonia, and Claude

Bakugou: Pyra and Leaf

Tokoyami: Corvo

Uraraka: Nebula and Ion

Hagakure: Lucy

Tsu: Bubbles

Aizawa: Charlie and Cassiopeia

All Might: Seth

Sorry if it's not obvious, but Seth's name is a play on Stethoscope, which is kinda-sorta what the Pokemon Audino is based on. If he had a last name, by the way, it would obviously be O'Scope. You know what screw it that's canon. His name is Seth O'Scope and I love it.

[titsthedamnseason]

so this is so???random but my family does this thing where every few months or so we buy a puzzle to work on with increasingly more and more pieces and we literally just spread the pieces out on the table where we eat and just work on it as we please so i present you: blackthorn family puzzle escapades 

*im ignoring some aspects of canon here because i dont want blackthorn family puzzles if livia blackthorn does not participate them*

julian had the idea for family bonding a few years ago

he bought a 500 piece puzzle for everyone to complete together a little after the dark war and just spread it out on the kitchen table for everyone to do 

they quickly got bored just sitting there and doing it so it became more of something to do as they came and went or got bored

it took up half the table but they just squished a little closer down at the other end 

after less than a week it was completed and they gave tavvy the honor of placing the last piece 

they were all so proud of themselves 

julian doesnt get another one for a while because everyone was so sick of puzzles by the end including him 

but a few months later he gets one with 700 pieces, then 1000, etc.

over the years they fall into the rhythm of just working around puzzle time 

they cant really squeeze at the kitchen table anymore once it gets to be 1000+ pieces so they all just know to eat in the dining room when it’s puzzle season

(when cristina comes she asks why they dont just do the puzzle in one of the hundreds of empty institute rooms but shut up cristina it’s tradition)

now some specifics

ty is the best at the puzzles because in general he’s just good at puzzley things and he’s also one of the only ones that will sit for hours and work on it without getting bored

livvy is also pretty good and she’ll sit with ty while he works but she cant sit and do it for as long as him so she’s mostly just keeping him company after she tires of doing it for the day

dru is right behind ty on the puzzle train. she would rather die than leave a puzzle unfinished. dru and ty are puzzle buddies that spend hours together working on the puzzle

tavvy doesnt really do that much but he loves to feel like he’s helping so the blackthorns will give him two pieces they know match or show him where to place one so he can feel accomplished

julian is okay at puzzles but he quickly bores and tires of them and the general disorganization of the pieces on the table stress him out so he’ll work on it to appease the kids but not really for his own enjoyment

emma detests puzzles so she’ll do like three pieces the entire time and just talk to and distract everyone the rest which they arent necessarily upset about because she’s good company while working but she does nothing to actually help

when mark comes back puzzle days confuse him but he eventually comes around to them and will get a significantly decent amount done 

diana loves the puzzles and the theme/idea surrounding them and will cancel training to work on it help out when she has time

helen and aline did a lot of puzzles to pass the time on wrangel island so theyre good at them and love helping but theyre also kind of sick of them and can only handle so much puzzle in their lives

cristina is very good at the puzzles and helps to the best of her ability 

kit hates puzzle days and will only sit and talk to ty but otherwise resents the fact that the puzzle takes over the kitchen. he refuses to contribute entirely and never does a single piece except that secret one time ty asked him to

out of everyone emma always seems the most excited when the puzzle is finished and goes on about how she’s “so proud of us” to which everyone grumbles that she is not included in the us

she disagrees 

puzzle days do instill a general air of everyone working together but that’s not to say they don’t start fights because 

“who finished that part i left here that was mine to finish”

“youve had that piece i was looking for this entire time?!”

“kit, for the last time, no food on the puzzle table”

it also is a great way to get back at people 

dru and livvy fighting? what’s to stop dru from removing a few pieces that livvy had just put together and, say, hide them in a very secretive hiding spot??

although that is only in very serious cases because these puzzles are no joke and undoing someone’s progress is only appropriate in the most dire of situations 

the tradition of tavvy placing the last piece with everyone gathered around to watch turns into emma putting in the last piece because tavvy actually gets kind of good and emma is still useless in the puzzle department 

kit actually does start begrudgingly helping over the years when he sees some pieces that go together 

it always worked out that kieran was never really around for puzzle weeks but when he finally is one day and arrives at the institute to find the entire blackthorn family and co spreading out a new puzzle over the table and a little on the counter next to the stove because its just impossible to fit 10000 pieces on that one table, helen he’s a little horrified and decides to just wander until dinner

one time dru is going to the kitchen to work on the puzzle and walks in on emma and julian making out against the kitchen puzzle table and to make matters worse emma is sitting on the puzzle and to make matters even worse she’s sitting right on the section dru had been working on 

dru was mortified(as were julian and emma) but revenge was more important so dru tells everyone and they never live it down

literally never

dru brings it up in her toast at their wedding

[whenthemarshmallowmettheslayer]

I’m happy that you like to hear people’s thoughts about subplots and ideas and such. I just got so caught up thinking about the time right after he was claimed and how “everyone was afraid of him” and how different his experience might have been if instead he could’ve met people with the undercurrent of “this kid might be my sibling” and that’s really neat :) I absolutely, 10000% look forward to whatever you write next!!!

I do! (About hearing people’s thoughts on subplots, ideas, and so on.) :) 

Heads up I’m going to break this reply in two parts. The first part is about claiming or rather Percy not being claimed and what that means later on in the series. The second part will be about his SPQR tattoo. Okay, onto the the first part, claiming: 

1.) Annabeth canonically assumed Percy was Zeus’ son even after Percy became the supreme lord of the camp’s plumbing (which Percy doesn’t become in this verse). It isn’t till she sees the water healing Percy that she puts the pieces together and then BAM Percy gets claimed. 

This is honestly a fair guess because in Greek mythology Zeus had the most children. This is also supported by the fact Zeus has the most demi-god children in PJ series. 

Before someone points out Hazel, Bianca, Nico, and I’m pretty sure it’s hinted in the books Hitler was Hades’ son and that three confirmed children of a big three beats the two (Thalia and Jason) children Zeus has let me remind you that Hades stopped having children after the oath was made that was result of the great prophecy and of their children being too powerful (about WW2).

Hades actually kept his oath which both is something Greek mythology supports in two different ways but that’s a discussion for another day. (I haven’t had caffeine yet. My cup of tea is still steeping.) 

Zeus had two children after the oath - one who Annabeth personally knew - while 

Poseidon only had one and Hades had none after the oath. 

So it was a valid guess to assume Zeus had fallen off the bandwagon again. 

Grover, on the other hand, states that he believed Percy is the son of a minor god or goddess. 

We never officially (key word officially) get Chiron’s guess on Percy’s parentage but 

I think it’s telling that out of everything he could have done Chiron gave Percy  Riptide during the school’s trip to the museum. 

It’s apparent in the chapter after Percy vaporizes pre-algebra teacher that Grover and Chiron knew she was a Kindly One (plus I just remembered in the first chapter that Percy made a remark after sententious that she was pure evil and Grover agreed). There’s also the fact it’s stated several times throughout the series that Grover, and I’m sure it’s a safe assumption Chiron too, could smell monsters. Even if they couldn’t smell that there was a fury in the school they would have noticed her appearing one day and manipulating the mist. (Thalia states TTC that Chiron taught her to manipulate the mist.) 

So Chiron must have known Mrs.Dodds was a monster. If he didn’t carry a weapon with him that would be beyond stupid (maybe he can’t personally interfere since there’s red tape for everyone but a demi-gods who only held back by their own bravery but that doesn’t mean Chiron couldn’t have kept a weapon to give Percy in case he needed it which he does) especially when Percy states in the book Chiron had a collection of weapons he would let the class mess around with. 

Out of all the weapons Chiron - Chiron who manipulates the mist, Chiron who had been training demi-gods for hundreds of years, Chiron who had a stash of weapons he let his class play around with - could have kept on him it’s Riptide - the sword Poseidon gave him - that Chiron gives to Percy. 

So even though Chiron is never officially guessed Percy’s parentage I think he had already guessed right in the privacy of his own mind. (This is something I hint about in the series.) 

Okay, so that’s Annabeth, Grover, and Chiron’s guesses in canon. 

It would be fair for other campers to assume that Percy was a child of Zeus because he was the only big three known to break the oath at the time (Thalia) and seriously the god could not keep in it his pants in Greek mythology. You would be surprised how many people are attributed to being Zeus’s. There actually are a few bad guys in Greek mythology that are sons of Zeus and some of Hades’ children that could be his are also said to be actually Zeus (Macaria, Zagreus, and Melinoe). 

But the kicker is Zeus doesn’t claim him.

It doesn’t matter what you or anyone thinks. If the kid isn’t claimed they have to stay in the Hermès Cabin. (Which really sucks if you’re a child of a god or goddess who isn’t an Olympian. Even if you’re claimed you still have to live in that overcrowded cabin because the camp only had twelve cabins until the end of TLO.) 

Zeus who apparently didn’t just only turn Thalia into a tree to save her life (and finally give the camp some protection) but kicked up a fuss on Grover failing to retrieve Thalia to camp safely.  (It’s mentioned throughout the series Grover was given shit about not saving Thalia and that Zeus doesn’t like him. I know for a fact Zeus still holds it against Grover because I reread the scene in TLO where the gods rewarded the heroes; I’m working on an oneshot with trans female Percy - Helen - that takes place in that scene.) 

So to most campers who were old enough to know about Thalia and the story behind the pine tree that protects them or were told about it by someone who did...it’s very telling and makes them wonder that Percy might not be Zeus’ son. 

That who knows...he could be the son of just a normal Olympian, a minor god, or a minor goddess. 

Who ever thinks not being a son of the big three, Ares, or Athena means you’re not powerful is dumb. We see this (off the top of my decaffeinated head) in Selina (her love for Charlie makes her trick the Ares cabin to defend New York which saves the battle, Clarisse’s love for Selina makes her slay a drakon that Percy with the Achilles’ heel couldn’t do, and there’s also the fact her telling Luke of Percy and Charles plans to blow up the cruise ship could have turned the tides of war if Kronos had been able to kill Percy too) who was a daughter of Aphrodite, when see this in Meg in ToA who is the daughter of Demeter whose children Annabeth brushed off in TLT, and in Luke who was a leader for the Titan’s army until Kronos possessed him and fought Percy (the son of Poseidon, of the big three, while Luke was only the son of Hermes). 

Demi-gods are important- this is stated several times in the series because they are only held back by their bravery, their hubris - no matter their parentage. 

In the last chapter I had a parts where Percy (who was told he was a pawn by Gaea) realize his worth and honestly this can apply to any demi-god who survives long enough and realizes their worth (the gods need demi-gods because the demi-gods are not held back but by their bravery): 

1.) “Percy would not be a victim nor would he longer be a pawn that Gaea had told him he was before promising to persevere him if he went north. Didn’t they know about the thing called promotion in a game of chess? Percy had still had not played a round of the game (he had kept meaning to download an app for it) but he had googled about pawns and the thing was if a pawn survived long enough and got to the other side of the board they could become anything but the king.

And Percy?

He was no longer a pawn because Percy had survived. Yet the thing was Percy had to wonder at what had been the cost. He wondered if had become a monster along the way because don’t you know? Monsters are made, not born. And two wars had certainly made Percy into something: a child killer, a person who watched his best friend die to bomb a cruise ship which Kronos had still survived, someone who intimately knew the smell of burnt human flesh from the pyres of fallen comrades, but Percy had not been made a good person. A good person didn’t talk the person, the titan Bob, they claimed (they lied) to be their friend and convinced them to murder their brother.” 

2.) “There it was again: pawn. Percy was no longer a pawn. He had survived and he had become what was needed of him to save his loved ones and to live after so many quests. (And maybe what he was was a monster that no one else could see because it was under his skin - in his soul. A monster that possibly couldn’t die until this body reached sixteen.)” 

3.) “I lied earlier,” Percy admitted as realization fell upon on him. (Don’t you know the king is the weakest player? Don’t you know if the pawn survives across the journey to the other side of the board it can become anything but the king?) Percy thought of Calypso and of vows sworn to the river of Styx. Percy remembered how Hera had told him he was the glue that held the Seven. (Don’t you know when you make a Faustian contract with the devil you will pay for it even if it’s years later - so many years you thought you escaped him? As if he would forget after what he’s given you. You struck a deal and you were a fool for ever thinking he would let it slide without payment. Not after he’s given for you because he gave you his soul in the end when he only meant to give you victory of your wars.) “When I said I was sorry and that it wouldn’t save either of us.”

Okay, that was the end of part one of my reply. I’ll try to write the second part later today. (When I post the second part I’ll come back to edit this post so there’s a link to the second part of the reply.)