#self-evaluation ish

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

I've just re-read my previous requested fic for tf 141 x reader with high pain tolerance, and I think we could extend this prompt (and as always you can take it or leave it, no pressure a yea 👍🏻)

What if TF 141 almost lost F!Reader again, this time she got caught by enemies and got tortured for crucial/classified information. While being tortured, you can't help but feel a little grateful that you have such an extreme pain tolerance. You finally managed to get out that place by your own (and of course after unaliving your enemies) and got back to your team. Men are worried as hell cause 1) you look like shit, like someone has just crawled out of hell (which in your part it isn't wrong), 2) the fact that you have extreme pain tolerance just make it worse

And when you finally got evaluated by medics, including clothes off, that's when they knew you'd have it worse than what they've imagined. Black-ish bruises almost every where, broken bones, dislocated joints, dried blood etc. It's heartbreaking seeing you like this. Probably some will have self blaming, guilty, rage, and other mixed emotions. Hmm imagine the heavy angst but also the massive comfort after that.

Thankskie 🦈

Summary: high pain tolerance F!Reader get tortured, after you getting rescued, enjoy the FLUFF between you and TF141

cw: very slight gore (interrogation), canon swearing, canon violence

blahaj, FLUFF, TF141*F!Reader

last req about high pain tolerance F!Reader

Oh, This isn’t great. You probably going to die this time.

You licked your chapped lips, the bitterness of iron is obnoxious, making you regret the motion and go back to try to piece together your memories again.

You counted the time when you first got caught, but after endless rounds of interrogations, your mind is too hazy to keep up the measurement.

With your hands bounding tightly on your back, chains and steel bars preventing your legs from moving, all you can do is just prey for your teammates to come.

At least you aren’t afraid, no fear of death, nor fear of pain. It’s always these moments that you feel grateful for having almost no feelings of pain, it makes you keep composed and adamant.

Well, starving kind of sucks though, you guess you’ll even devour those vegetables you hated and shoved into Kyle’s plate if it’s presented to you.

Your mind wanders, from your pudding hiding in the deepest part of the fridge in case someone (Soap) eats it, to how Price will scold your ears off for being too reckless when you’re back, until the footsteps outside the door remind you to concentrate.

Damn, you need to get out alive if you want to listen to your dear Captain recite the rules.

The door creaks open with the broad man stepping in and his dogs tailing after with weapons.

The cool water gets splashed on your face when the man stands still in front of you.

“New toy, yeah?” you spot the machete in the man’s grip

“Glad to see you awake, sergeant?” The man laughs “Seems like the mouth still works pretty well, I hope your mind is clear too so we can cooperate perfectly today.”

“Sober enough to tell you ‘no’, I guess”

Red pours from your shoulder the second after your taunt, and you frown slightly at the little sting.

“Fucking bitch still has a sharp tongue after these wounds...” He eyes down at you with a bit of disbelief.

Even though you can’t see yourself, you know you look like shit either. Burnings from the lighters, slash wounds from various tactical knives, dark bruises forming on your thigh and other parts after countless punches and kicks.

All you need to do is buy time, but even if you barely feel pain, you still will die from blood loss if this keeps going.

The rest of the interrogation is just adding more injuries to your broken body, and your consciousness starts fading.

You really want to take a nap... but will you wake up again? you’re not sure especially when another smash lands on the back of your head.

Just about minutes before you sure will pass out again, you hear the noise. Gunfire, yelling, screaming of a massacre.

They arrived...

“Go check what’s wrong.” The broad man gestures, and one of his subordinates walks out to

“Guess your saviors have come... now” You look straight into the man ’s eyes when he puts the muzzle between your eyes. “No time for playing, one last time, tell me the people gave you the intel.”

The chaos outside is getting louder and closer. Buy time, you tell yourself again, so you whisper

“Okay... Okay... I will tell you, please don’t kill me, please...” You sniff, and start sobbing while your head stays lowered.

“Finally giving up, huh? Tell me, I need their name, who do they belong.” The smirk on the man’s face gets wider, god, you really want to punch his face.

“It’s...” You murmur, and the man leans closer to hear clearly.

“It’s go fuck yourself, you bloody bastard.” You spit the blood on his face and grin like a maniac.

and the door swings open, the gunshot splatters the man’s blood on your face, but you don’t care.

You win.

“Hey, guys, long time no see.” You smile at your teammates after the man collapses beside you.

“You’re fine now, don’t worry, we got you.” Soap rushes to your side “Price is calling the exfil, Ghost and Gaz are outside making sure everything’s clear.”

“Thanks...” You melt into Soap’s arm when he unties the rope and carries you.

“I tell the bastard to go fuck himself, hehe.”

“Stop talking, bonnie, ye need to rest.”

“Did I do great?”

“Yes.” The gravel voice of Soap’s becomes softer as he answers.

“May I rest now?” you blink slowly.

“Of course, lassie.”

Getting the confirmation, The warmth radiating from Soap is too soothing, you want to tell him how much you miss them, but those words are unable to come out as you get dragged into a coma instantly.

“damn...”

Your eyelids flutter open, the familiar white ceiling is the first thing you see.

“Morning, bonnie, how do ye feel?”

“dizzy as fuck.”

“pain?”

“Nah.”

“Sometimes I think you’re not human...” Soap laughs, but he’s worried, or worried can’t describe his mood when he saw your wounds as you were sent into the infirmary.

That day when they back to base, all of them followed you, and didn’t pay any mind about getting their gears off first.

You looked like someone who just found her way out of hell, beautiful face swollen, large bruises spread across your skin like some nasty paintings, and the situation was worse than they expected after the medics cut your clothes off and started their evaluation.

Soap couldn’t forget the rage swallowing him like flames when he saw what you went through in those days, the more wounds they spotted, the more tension in the air became more insufferable.

Gaz and he cursed when they saw the huge burn on your back, skin obviously inflamed, and when the deep cuts that exposed the bones revealed from the cover, he noticed Ghost clenching his fist to suppress anger.

Price stormed out of the infirmary and called Laswell between the medics surmising how many of your bones were broken.

“Wait...” your voice pulls Soap back to reality “blahaj! 4 blahaj! Where do they come from?”

“Price gave them to you, as rewards for your hard work. He said you keep rambling about wanting to have one.”

“awwww” Soap grins as he watches you struggle to hug all of them at one time.

“There ya go.” He helps adjust the plushies so you can get them all in your arms.

“Oh yeah, where’s others?”

“Price’s on op, will be back in a week. Ghost and Gaz will visit you soon.”

“Hmmmm.”

You caress one of the blahaj’s head and turn your face

“Thank you.” you grin “For coming to save me.”

“What are you talking about?” Covering his hand on yours, he looks into your eyes, without those playful glints in his azure ones.

“We’re a team, or more than a team. Ye think we will throw ye there and do nothing?”

The seriousness on his face infatuates you, you meet his gaze without darting, and finally, break into tender giggles.

“yeah, sorry, you’re right.” You chuckle “You know what? In that basement, All I wanted was to get out of there and come back to eat my pudding.”

“Pudding?”

“Yeah, I have one in the fridge.” nodding in excitement, you continue “I should ask the doctor if I can eat it.”

“Wait that’s yours?!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ehhh...” Soap’s smile freezes on his face under panic “I ate it.”

“...”

Soap MacTavish gets kicked out of the room with a new mission: buy 10 puddings.

When Gaz knocks on the door and steps into your ward, you are staring out the window, but turn to him immediately when you hear his arrival.

“Hey, Kyle.” You wave with your better hand.

“Feel better?” The sugar-coated smile he has always provides you with energy, your mood lights up as he takes the seat beside your bed.

“mmhmm, not that dizzy anymore.”

“loves those sharks very much?” He points at the blahajs you squeeze close to you.

“Damn, they’re my new babies now.” You show Gaz each of them.

“This is Pricey, this is Ghostie, this is Gazzy, and this is Soapy.” Proudly introducing them to Gaz, you give the sharkies a few pats.

“Such Innovative names, hm?”

“I don’t think Gaz is some special name too, Kyle.”

You both giggle at the stupid names you granted to the sharks, while Gaz lands his eyes on your arm hanging mid-air, his laughter gradually comes to a halt.

“Hey.” He watches you raise an eyebrow when he calls you “Sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Just...” His eyes stay on your bruises, traveling along them, and he hates that they lead his gaze to roam your whole figure. “We should be there faster.”

His brown eyes are full of distress when they meet yours again.

“Garrick, come closer.” You beckons, and he follows suit.

“Don’t apologize. When I saw all of you on that goddamn chair, I knew I was safe now.” You cradle his cheek in your palm “You guys are my shelter, my home, and I never thought the chance that my team wouldn’t save me, Soap said it yesterday, and I’m sure you’re the same, yes?”

“Of course.” His eyes soften, and you return him a reassuring smile when

“Time for you to go train the rookies, right?” Shooting a glimpse at the clock, you ask.

“yeah, time to deal with those troubles.” He stands up from the chair and looks down at you “See you, lovie.”

“see ya.”

You watch him walk towards the door, but stop after a few steps.

“Why does Soapy have a huge dent on his head?”

“Oh.” You pout “He ate my pudding, so I punched his shark since I can’t spar with him now.” another punch hit Soapy when you finish speaking.

“Wow...”

Gaz mourns for his brother’s future with his whole heart.

“Still awake?” The gruff yet gentle voice floats into your ear the moment the door slides open.

“Been sleeping the whole day, LT.”

Ghost watches you shift, and lies on your side to face him.

“How’s the day, Ghost?”

“Shit as usual.”

“How about seeing me, feel better?”

“Feels worse.”

“Hey, honesty is a virtue but not here.”

He scoffs at your retort as he observes your face.

“The bruises on your face look smaller.” Ghost indicates.

“Oh yeah, my face! How does it look like?” You point at the hand mirror Gaz brings you, and after Ghost hands it to you, you open the lid.

“Jesus Christ!” you shout when the reflection shows you how shit you look like “I’m so ugly right now!”

“We all know.”

“Damn, if there’s an award for honesty, you will be the winner, Simon.” You throw the mirror back into his grip.

“Will you congratulate me?”

“I will give you an ‘I’m a winner’ sticker for you to paste on your mask.”

He chuckles at your banter, but you can sense his exhaustion, from his limp body to his half-lid eyes.

“You’re tired, Simon. Go back to rest.” You coo softly.

“I’m not leaving until you sleep.”

“but I’m not that sleepy now.”

“Should I sing you a lullaby, sergeant?”

“I’m afraid that my ears don’t have the honor the hear your beautiful singing, Sir.” you feign an ‘oh hell no’ face to him, but your eyes light up when an idea comes to mind.

“Hey, how about you lie on my bed? it can fit 2 people.”

“I don’t know you’re such an active woman.”

“Fuck you, Simon. If you want me to fall asleep then get on the bed right now!”

Sighs in compromise, Ghost rises from the chair and sits on the edge of your bed with a grunt, and you scoot inward to leave him more space to lie down.

“You’re like a bear, Ghost, I’m gonna squash into a pie by you and the blahajs!”

“Then throw those bloody sharks on the floor.”

“No! they’re Tf141 blahaj!” You pet the one in your arms when Ghost gives you a confused face. “This is you, Ghost.”

“The real Ghost is beside you and you choose him over a fake one?”

“I don’t know you’re that active, lieutenant.”

You smirk at him, he’s only wearing a balaclava, so you’re able to see the corner of his eyes crinkle at your words.

But Ghost must have some magic, you grow sleepier under his presence, maybe it’s his steady breath sounds like a lullaby, or it’s because safety he always generously offers to you.

“Sleepy now?” He speaks slowly and quietly as if he’s fear of scaring your sleepiness away.

“a bit...” A big yawn answers the question better than your slurry voice.

“Close your eyes then.”

“mmm.”

You secure the Ghostie blahaj in a tight embrace as you follow Ghost’s command.

you feel light pats on your non-injured part, and you scoot closer to the bulky man, letting him lead you into a peaceful sleep.

Ghost watches you fall asleep, and he moves off the bed as gently as he can.

“Sweet dreams.” He chants in a low voice, and he takes other sharks in his hand, placing them closer to you.

Making sure the sharks are cuddling you, he leaves like a ghost in the serene silence.

You look down at yourself, ankles tied to the chair, blood dripping from the knife that’s barely in your sight.

Aren’t you already out of that basement...?

Is it all a dream? In reality, you’re still getting interrogated?

You try to fixate on the noise outside the door, but you feel the cold metal touching your forehead.

Am I never going to see them again? I want to see them again...

I want to hear Price’s praises, want to hear Soap and Gaz fighting over the last biscuit, want to hear Ghost’s annoyed voices at my frolic.

Tears gather in your eyes when you hear the click from turning off the safety of the gun.

“... geant...sergeant... sergeant.”

“Ahh!” You let out a yell as you snap your eyes open, which are wide with horror.

“Cap-Captain...” You pant whilst you recognize the person pulling you from your nightmare.

“Yes, it’s me, love. You’re safe now, you’re in the base, infirmary, remember?” He caresses your hair to calm you down.

Oh, yes, you aren’t in that basement. You’re back.

You’re with the people you love.

“Why are you here, Captain?” after you breathe steadily again, you notice it’s 1 am, and the aisle outside is silent.

“Just came back from the op, and want to see you.”

“You should have some rest, Price.”

“You mean I leave now even when you just woke up from a nightmare?” He crooks his eyebrows.

“Well...”

“Be selfish, love. I will stay here.”

“You don’t blame me for being too stupid and getting caught by the enemy?”

“Things went south sometimes.” He shakes his head “It’s not your fault.”

“...”

“Say it, luv.” He encourages you when you hesitate.

“I...” “I thought I was not afraid of anything... at least in that basement, pain’s not a big deal for me, starvation is bearable, and death... if that means I won’t lose to those dorks, then it’s nothing to me.”

Price gives you a grunt as acknowledgement, so you continue.

“but... I think I’m still afraid of dying...” You fidget your fingers “I want to see all of you again... I want to come back to you.”

“I don’t want to die...”

You haven’t noticed tears staining your cheeks until Price’s finger — calloused yet warm — wipes the tears away.

“We all know you’re brave, kid.” Price cups your face, hand barely touches your skin, must be avoiding trigger your pain, but you don’t care, nor you can feel the pain, you shove your cheek in it and earn a chuckle from the man.

“Your high pain tolerance makes you look forward to your target without worrying yourself, but keep in mind.”

“Don’t make us worry, you need to come back to us, we can’t lose you, just like you can lose us. Understood?”

“Yes, Capt.”

“You want to go back to sleep?”

“If you tell me a bedtime story, then I will.” the mischievous grin returns to your face.

“Greedy, eh? I thought those sharks could satisfy you.”

“I want your bedtime story too.”

“How about I tell you a story about how to become an attentive soldier?”

“Fuck you, Captain.”

You hit Price with the plushie, which he catches easily, and put it on his lap, letting you give the shark little punches to drain your excessive energy, as he starts telling what happened when he met Soap the first time.

You aren’t afraid of pain, and you become an undaunted person on the battlefield. Yet still, you now keep in mind that there are people who love you, and are worried about you.

You all are a team, a home, and a haven for each other, always by each other’s side, or waiting for others to return safely.

and it’s really nice to be able to come back home.

a/n: thanks for reading! and thank you sharkie for the request, I hope you will like it (or not too disappointed) !! :D

Have a nice day/night, everyone!

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 10 - Convergence~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: The fight with Vox triggers memories of your life on Earth, but a familiar voice calls to you. When you wake, you find an unexpected hand has helped you but of course their aid comes with a catch. More secrets are brought to light and you must choose whose side you're truly on.

Themes: Huge warning for depictions of war/ bombings/ injuries/ death. With everything going on in the world I understand if it is hard to read so feel free to skip the ~8 ish paragraphs. The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, actual plot, mentions of blood/bodily harm, slow burn, Lucifer can't take a hint, Alastor is full of surprises, eventual smut, and of course 18+

3k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5  Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 (You're on it!) Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

Like a movie, you watch different places around the world flash before your eyes. Each scene, you’re surrounded by the same small group of people. A feeling of pride filled your body when you looked at them. Are these people my family? They feel like it. You knew you’d do anything to protect them. 

~~I’m here love…

A final flash puts you at an eerily familiar scene. You sit at the end of a small table, watching everyone laughing, eating, singing - just enjoying the down time together. The sound of an air siren puts an immediate silence over the tent. All eyes snap to you, waiting for your guidance. You stand from your chair, “Alright just like training guys, take your assigned positions around the camp and keep a clear - “, ringing pierces your ears as everything goes black. 

~~You’re stronger than this…

In what feels like a second, you are lying face down on the warm ground. How long was I down for? Pushing yourself to your knees, you watch blood from your face make little droplets in the dirt below you. Dust and smoke fill the air, burning your lungs when you try to take a breath. Fuck…Where is everyone? You look at what remains of the camp around you. Piles of brick, wood, and rock litter the area. The night around you is hauntingly silent, interrupted only by the occasional pop of electricity from what remained of the generators. As the dust begins to settle, you’re able to make out multiple sets of boots under rubble nearby. No…no...no…no please...

You attempt to run towards them but stumble back to the ground. A mix of dirt and blood coat the front of your uniform. Other than the pain in your side, you have no way of knowing the true extent of your injuries as a numbness washes over you. 

~~Fight…please my dear…

Sounds of tumbling brick and coughing distract you from your self-evaluation. You crawl towards the sound and find a man trying to sit up, pushing away the rubble that buried his lower body. “Thank God, you have no idea how relieved I am to - “, an involuntary gasp leaves your mouth when you see the piece of metal sticking right through him. 

He half-heartedly laughs, “I was going to make some smartass comment like - How bad is it doc? Think I’ll be home for dinner? - but uh…I think that answered my question.” Fucker always had to make jokes, even the face of death. 

“No it’s not..It’s not that bad. I just need to find my bag, I can stop the bleeding….just…k-keep talking to me.” Your hands fumble across his chest. You try to apply pressure while your eyes frantically scan the area for your medical bag, but Lord only knows where it ended up after the explosion. 

~~Please…we need you…

Warmth continues to spread under you, his blood now staining your hands and arms. He grabs your hands, stopping your efforts and gently setting them on his face, “Don’t do this - ya know how it’s going to end.” A single tear slips past your lashes and down your cheek. His breathing begins to labor, “Hey now boss lady, no cryin’. We all knew what we signed up for. This ain’t your fault.”

~~I need you…

A deafening sound fills the air followed by a blinding flash of white light.

Your eyes bolt open as you sit up gasping for air. Alastor nearly jumps out of his chair, hastily sitting himself behind you in bed to wrap his body around yours, “I’m here, dear. Breathe. You’re safe.” You try to relax in his arms while your mind reels. Was that a dream? A memory? Is that…how I died?

You look down remembering the fight with Vox. Other than a few blood stained cotton bandages, you appear to be mostly healed. “How -?” you begin to ask. Alastor tightens his grip on you, making you wince from the pressure on your still healing wounds. “Please…just…give me a moment.” he begs quietly into your neck. You feel his chest rise and fall against you with ragged breaths. If it was anyone other than Alastor, you would think he was crying. 

Gentle sounds from the wooded bayou fill the room. After a few moments, he breaks the peaceful silence, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” he breathes through a raspy voice. You lean your head back to look up at the demon. He looked just as rough as he did that night in the tower. 

You bring your hand to his cheek and pull him into a tender embrace against your lips. He sighs into your mouth as his body relaxes. He needed to feel you, to know you weren’t gone. The corners of your mouth curl into a smile, “I don’t know how but I heard your voice…through the darkness you were calling to me. Even as I dreamt of my life on Earth.” Alastor huffs amusingly, “My dear, I never left your side. Charlie said talking to you might help. I thought it was silly really but I was willing to try anything. Good to know my efforts weren’t in vain.” 

Alastor delicately brushes his fingers through your hair, “I didn’t think it was possible to feel something worse than the initial fall into Hell, but you seem to enjoy keeping me on my toes. As much as I hate to say it, you might not have made it if Lucifer hadn’t -”

“Lucifer!?” you yell in surprise at how casually Alastor mentions him, “Why would he bother saving me?” A few taps on the door interrupt before you can get an answer. Without waiting for a response, Lucifer walks into the room, “Ah good you’re awake.” he chirps casually. 

You swing yourself to the edge of the bed in an attempt to stand but Alastor keeps a firm hold on your hips, slotting you between his legs to keep you sitting. He scolds quietly in your ear “Easy love, let’s not move too quickly. You’re still healing.”

Lucifer makes his way across the room, puffing his chest out arrogantly as he leans against his cane, “There were only a few wounds I couldn’t get completely healed but you seem to be a strong one! Of course someone had their doubts.” he glares at Alastor, lip nearing a snarl. 

He did help when he didn’t need to, ulterior motives or not I should be grateful. You muster a smile and cool tone, “Well you did wonderful, sir. I am feeling pretty good to be honest. Thank you. I suppose I owe you.” What the fuck did I just say?

Alastor exhales against your neck and digs his fingertips into your sides, making you curse at him under your breath. It didn’t help how smug Lucifer suddenly looked. He nonchalantly fiddles with his suit, “Well we do have some private matters to discuss. If you’re feeling up to it of course.” No but do I have a choice?

“Sure! What’s going on?” 

“I uh - would prefer there to not be an audience, if you don’t mind.” Lucifer shuffles his cane to his other hand. Your chest hitches at the request. I rather not be alone with this man right now. Alastor notices your apprehension, “Anything you have to discuss can be said in my company. You have quite a nasty habit of putting your hands - amongst other things - where they don’t belong.” his tone cut with such sharpness even the well collected King looked visibly uncomfortable. You feel him disappear from behind you only to reappear in a chair by the fire behind Lucifer, “You may continue sir.”

Lucifer scoffs but doesn’t speak right away. You fumble nervously with your hands as his eyes burn into you. Chills creep across your skin from the tension filling the room.

“Soooooo - what did you need to speak about, sir?” you ask wearily, wanting to get this conversation over with. “I told you to call me Lucifer,” he takes a seat next to you on the bed, “And I think you know damn well what we need to talk about.” his once sickeningly sweet voice now harsh with ire. 

Cool, nothing like pissing off the King of Hell. You try to hide the anxiety building in your chest, “Lucifer, I appreciate your offer from the other day however I am staying here. With the sinners and with Alastor. I am capable of  -”

“Yes, yes - you looked quite capable as you were dying in my arms just a few nights ago!” he bites, “Do you think you’re of any use to the people you claim to want to help if you’re dead? Do you think he will actually support you in your efforts?” his eyes dart to the demon across the room.

“Oh and you will!? You want to keep me like a pet in your little castle! Remind me, how did wanting such things from Lilith turn out for you?” 

An unsettling smile crosses his face, making a pit form in your stomach, “You tread on thin ice my dear. If you wish to take low blows, fine. You’re naive to think he actually loves you. You said yourself, he just wants to use you -”

“I was wrong. I was only naive to think you did not want to use me.” you interrupt plainly. R̷͈̈u̸̦͌l̸͍̍e̴͔̅ ̷͉͛#̸̗͒1̶͍͂ ̵̮̐B̵̬̊e̷͖͐ ̵̡́o̵̡̿p̵͎͂e̴̢̋n̷̡̆ ̵͚̋t̵͕͠o̵͔̽ ̵̺̉t̶̰͗ȓ̴̠ů̷̹s̶̩̄t̴̙̅,̸̈́͜ ̶͉̓b̶̘͗ǔ̵̮t̶̯̂ ̸̝̿n̴̳̍ȅ̷͔ṿ̵̀e̴̗̾r̸̨̔ ̵̻͒ḑ̶̾ǫ̴̉ ̴͎̉ś̴̤ō̴̩ ̴̣̒b̶͉͠ḻ̸͗i̶̳̽ṋ̷̀d̶͉͒ĺ̵̘y̸̙̕

He cocks his head and raises an eyebrow, “I - I don’t know what you mean. I - I saved you. I protected you when - when he couldn’t. Of course I would have never allowed you to get hurt in the first place.” Alastor clears his throat and shifts in his chair, using every ounce of restraint to not lose his tongue. His eyes pinpoint to Lucifer through a sharp grin. 

I’m not the only one on thin ice here. “I appreciate you helping me, truly. But I think we both know deep down…you’re scared. You’re weaker than you let on. Locking yourself away, ignoring your duties. Without Lilith you’ve become just a shell of the ruler you once were. And, not to sound arrogant, but I get the feeling you think I can somehow change that.”

Lucifer’s look softens and he takes your hand, eyes glued to his thumb tracing across your palm, “I’ll admit there’s some truth to your words. She was my strength. She knew how to lead better than I ever could. The city has gone to shit without her. But…” his other hand cups your cheek as he meets your gaze, “...you can change all of that. Standing by me, you can do so much good for our people. Isn’t that what you want?” his words seem to plead with you. You hear a crack from Alastor’s grip tightening on the arms of his chair. 

You shoot a glance at him, silently asking him to calm down. With a gentle touch, you take Lucifer’s wrist to remove his hand from your face, “I want to save souls, Lucifer. Charlie’s dream is incredible and I plan on helping her see it through. I do not wish to assist in the rule of Hell.” You say soft but stern, trying to make him understand. He stands abruptly to look down at you, “Does this demon share these same sentiments?” 

Fuck he does NOT let up. “I don’t understand. Why are you so against him!?” you raise your voice making the Radio Demon’s ears twitch. 

Lucifer kneels in front of you, tightly gripping your shoulders, “Listen to me…” Alastor stands to say something but you raise a hand to stop him. You wince as slender fingers dig deeper into your skin and the King’s voice darkens to a whisper, “He will never stop trying to gain more power. You want to save souls yet you stand by someone who would sacrifice anyone and anything to get what he wants. You help bring him to power…and he will destroy everything. You, me, Charlie…He - won’t - stop.” 

Your heart pounds against your chest, fighting against the thoughts racing through your mind, “How are you so sure about his intentions?” you squeak out. He gently brushes some hair away from your face, “My sweet girl, there are darker secrets to him than you know. Secrets, I fear, that will destroy you.”

“That is enough.” Alastor’s voice warns with a heavy static. 

Lucifer angrily stands back up, bringing you to your feet with him, “Why can’t you just trust me? Have I not proven myself enough? He will take away everything.” Your hands press against his chest in an attempt to keep him from getting any closer, “Please, stop! He -”

The lights of the room begin to flicker. Alastor grabs Lucifer away from you by his jacket collar and pins him against the wall, “I said that was enough.” he spits. The two men snarl nose to nose before Lucifer lets out a jarring laugh, “Oh-ho - so she really doesn’t know? How far are you going to try and bury the truth?” he peeks over Alastor’s shoulder to you, “See my dear this is what I mean. If he truly loved you, he would have been honest about his - situation.” 

Alastor pulls back and slams Lucifer’s smaller body against the wall again, seething through gritted teeth, “You have no right to -”

“W-what is he talking about?” You brace yourself against the bedpost and take a step towards them. Lucifer shoves Alastor off, sending the pissed off demon half way across the room. His body hits the wooden floor hard enough for the planks to creak beneath him. He half-heartedly struggles to pull himself up onto one knee, panting like a dog about to attack. 

Lucifer saunters over to you. You hear a low growl from Alastor as he watches the small King move his hands over your waist and his lips to your ear, “His soul is bound to another. He only needs you because your power combined can break him free. And what do you think he’ll do the moment he is unchained?” he breathes through a wicked smile. Your entire body tenses, both from shock and how intimately his hands run against you. 

He gives a coy chuckle, raising his voice to ensure Alastor hears him, “Come see me tomorrow. Alone. We can speak further on how you can repay me for helping you.” with a flick of his wrist his cane flies into his hand. You flinch as he presses a kiss to your cheek before disappearing behind his red ribbons.

Alastor remains frozen, kneeling in the middle of the room. His eyes stare into you while flickering between red and black dials. You can’t tell if he’s about to explode or break down. Although a hundred questions are running through your mind, you know better than to poke an already agitated bear or in this case, deer. 

In a moment where you should be angry or confused, where you should yell and scream, you instead do something that takes both yourself and Alastor by surprise. Ignoring the pain and soreness in your body, you drop to your knees in front of him and throw your arms around his neck in a tight hug. He moves his hands up but hesitates before touching you. “Wha-what are you doing?” he asks with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. 

Within an instant, a plan forms in your head. This is going to get messy. But it’s the only way to protect me…and protect us. R̶͚̀u̷͍̿l̷̦͛ȅ̸̥ ̸͔̀#̷͇̿4̶̫͝ ̴̧̌Ț̶̈ù̷̫r̸͓̃ǹ̷̩ ̸̘̚y̴͔͊ò̵͜u̸͙͝r̸͜͠ ̶́͜w̸̮̉ẻ̴͚á̵͚k̶͎͌n̵̘͛e̶̪͐s̵̜͝s̵̛̤ ̸̼̋ĩ̸̭n̴̘̈t̷͙̎o̴̡̓ ̵̩͌ŝ̷͉t̴̺̊r̴͈̍e̶̡̔n̷̝̓g̶̭̚t̴̺̓h̸̩̓ You pull him closer and run a hand up into his hair, caressing the back of his head, “You already know the questions I have and I fully expect answers. However, at this moment, I only need to know one thing…” you move away to rest his head in your hands, forcing his crimson stare to you, “...if I help you to break your deal, are you willing to keep your chains and bind your soul to me?” Your tone is serious but affectionate. He needs to know I’m not asking from a place of selfishness. Ȓ̸̤u̷̞͗l̶̫͂e̸̛̩ ̴̬͝#̴̼̒3̶̙͝ ̷̣͂K̵̜̓e̴̘̽ë̶̤́p̸̳͑ ̷̣͘t̷̥͆ẖ̸͐o̶͉̐s̷͗͜e̷̛̻ ̵̪̍y̴͎͗ǒ̴͎u̵͘ͅ ̸͇́ĺ̵̮ö̴̧v̴̩̏ę̷̀ ̷̝̋c̸͠ͅl̶̫͑o̸͈͆s̴̟͠ë̵̢́

“Yes.” he says without hesitation. His immediate response takes you aback. The last thing you expected was the ‘all powerful’ Radio Demon to give into your request without a second thought. For a moment you are left completely speechless. 

Unassured by your lack of response, Alastor places his hands over yours, “You’ve already managed to obtain my heart and my mind. The second my deal is broken, I will give you my soul. I will give you everything.” Your heart flutters at his words. 

There isn’t a single hint of anger or regret in his voice. His eyes lock to yours as he peppers kisses into your palm and down your wrist. The image takes you back to the first night you spent with him just months prior. That night he looked hungry and desperate but now there’s nothing but devotion, a silent plea for your trust. 

You can’t fight the heat rising in your face from his affection. He always has a way of clearing your mind yet clouding it all at once. You’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear the pounding of your heart from his willingness to give everything to you. Well phase one of this plan is already going swimmingly. He cocks an eyebrow at how smug you suddenly look, reading you like an open book, “What schemes are you concocting behind those eyes?” 

You lightly peck his forehead, then his nose, stopping just above his lips. A sly grin spreads across your face, “I have a plan but you’re not going to like it.” He rolls his eyes and groans, “It involves Lucifer, doesn’t it?” 

He helps you to your feet and pulls you into him. Your hands rest perfectly against his broad chest as you smile up at him without an answer. His eyes close with a deep sigh, “My dear, I already do not like where I think this is going.” he mumbles, knowing you’ve already made up your mind. 

You stand on your toes to give him a quick playful kiss, “I believe it’s time for me to go make a deal with the Devil.” R̸̢̉u̷͙̔l̷̺̇e̴̡͌ ̷̢̿#̶̠̍2̷͊͜ ̵̤̕D̷̦̐o̴̞̒n̷̠̈́’̷͔̆t̵̪̀ ̴̬̊b̸̺͋ẽ̶͈ ̴̣͘a̴͚͋f̶͔͗ṙ̶͔a̵̻̕i̸̪̾d̵̲̂ ̸̙͗t̷̛̥o̸͕̐ ̸̟͊s̵̖̒h̸͔̊ö̷͇́ẃ̶ͅ ̷̯̓y̸̭̔o̸̮͆u̴̠͐r̷͙͝ ̶͚͝p̵͔͌ǫ̷̛w̵͔͝ė̶̝r̴͎̂

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

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[mysillytdsideblog]

My headcanons for mike & co

Vito

Co-host w/ Mike from ages 14-16

Mentally 18-19 ish

System big brother

Handles a lot of the family issues

The one who steps up fr

Sexual Protector Alter

Trauma Holder, but doesnt have a full picture of their trauma

Sexualizes self for attention

Just a cool guy if u get to know him

Wishes he was more built irl lol

He was the one dating their first girlfriend

She didnt know about their DID, both Mike and Vito would rather keep that private

Wants a normal life

Also held down their first job (semi-canon)

He gives a shit but can be emotionally reserved

He doesn’t hate Mal, he just finds him frustrating

A bit of a troublemaker but not out of wanting bad for the system, it’s just the way he is

Creeped out by Mal, thats why he doesn’t like him

Secretly holds grudges but doesn’t tell them unless he’s picking a fight

Kinda a pothead

Chester

Mentally 60s-70s

No specific trauma memories, but he was split from trauma

Has never been the host but he switches in quite often

One of the first alters to have been discovered by their psych

At first the psych thought they were faking just cause of how theatrical Chester was, and how much it annoyed Mal

The psych thought they were faking to get out of juvie

Not to help, Mal said it was a “voice in his head” and would talk to him out loud, not caring who heard

He’s not an introject, but they don’t know why he’s old

He just is who he is

They don’t know why he has a scar over his eye, they presume there’s a trauma reason for it but nobody has any memory of something bad happening to their eye

He feels like he’s a grandfather to Mike, but the feeling’s not reciprocated

Not yet at least

Mike learns to love him

He gets annoyed by Chester still but he finds him more endearing

He likes his hot beverages and pastries

And yelling at the tv

He finds commenting on everything so entertaining

He’s co-con 80% of the time

He finds fronting to be physically exhausting, like it makes him physically feel his age

Has chronic pain in his hips and joints, his psych says it’s phantom pain

He loves his psych, he could go on for hours

He loves little kitty cats! There has never been a cat he couldn’t pet

He wishes he was more welcome when visiting nursing homes, he feels lonely but they don’t like his “portrayal” of an old man

He had gotten kicked out before

Actually, he gets kicked out of places quite often

He has health anxiety and constantly thinks he’s going to fall ill and die

His doctor is so fed up

He believes so many wives tales and basically you can tell him anything and he will believe you (unless he’s in a mood, then he’s just going to shout at you)

Mal

Ambigious early childhood to age 13 host

Mentally shifts between 13 to 17

Persecutor/Protector

Mainly a physical protector, kind of the mind’s back up plan for when things get rough and he needs to protect himself or take action

Holds most of the memory of the physical abuse

Split directly for that reason

He was one of the first

Hates his parents and tries to cause problems as a revenge for all the abuse he endured

Sadistic for this reason

He knew from a very young age that nobody was coming to save him, and they never did

Telling all the trauma he knew about in a court ordered psychiatric evaluation was the main reason he got diagnosed, but he was hoping it was going to put his parents in prison

It didnt

He was originally going to be diagnosed with ASPD before they scrapped that for just a DID diagnosis, mainly because his symptoms were too mixed and inconsistent due to the other alters existing

He still agrees ASPD fits him though and after TDAS he does more specific treatments for it in therapy

They do get diagnosed with ODD though

Basically everyone but Svetlana shows symptoms for it

Mal has it the worst because he has so much pent up hatred from everyone who hurt or failed him

And he only gets the bare minimum when he takes it into his own hands, but its better than nothing

Really clashed with Zoey at first but he was the one to make her understand them more, in his own roundabout way

Actually became close friends with Zoey even if they have their conflicts

Mike

Same age as body

Kinda bigender tbh but he’s not ready for that

Thinks he should be the one to call all the shots because he thinks hes the original

Hes not, there is none

Doesn’t have a lot of childhood memories

Nobody tells him about their trauma

Besides Mal when he’s trying to prove a point

He hates Mal because Mal threatens his sense of control

He overcompensates, being a system scares him so if he’s in charge he will be able to make sure everything’s ok

Just finally coming out of denial, still half in it

He hates being a system

Rude to his alters!!!

After All Stars, he sees his psych again who scolds him

And teaches him to accept his disorder

He does better

He compromises more, he learns that his alters are people too, he adapts to his multiplicity and eventually is the key to achieving functionality between all of them

He struggles to accept Mal, because of his persecutory nature, but he learns why Mal does what he does and with a little work from them both they are able to compromise

Mal has to grow and learn too don’t get me wrong

Svetlana

Same age as body

Transbian

Doesn’t mind being a system tbh

She likes the company

Hosts for short periods but only for upcoming competitions really because its hard for her to pretend to be a singlet

She doesn’t like hiding who she is, she’s way more open about her DID than the others are

She wishes she has more girl friends to talk with but they all know her as mike or mal :(

Total sporty girl she is multi talented in soooo many sports

Gymnastics is her fav obv

Why she has an accent? Who knows? Possibly an introject or maybe shes just like that but as far back as they remember she was there

They are all confused

Has good childhood memories, trauma free

She definitely loved recess and fronted a lot during the school years

Loves making friends, shes very social and kind!!

She’s also the most understanding and gives the best advice

Very emotional and it can be quite theatrical, on par with chester

She’s the one who gets along the most with their parents

Picky eater

She likes to eat clean and hates that the other alters eat meat because she finds it soooo gross

Has her own separate drawer in their dresser for her clothes

Bird lover and has owned pet birds before

Manitoba

Introject, half indiana jones-half steve irwin

Not a fusion he was just made like that

30s-40s

The most recent split

Has a fleshed out part of the interworld including NPCs (like his wife) and spends most of his time there (semi-canon)

He doesn’t prefer to front, he just found total drama fun to compete in

Dreams of traveling the world

Really longs for his innerworld to be real

Tries to keep everyone in line

Wishes they would be less trouble

He doesn’t side with anyone, which makes Mike very angry but he can also see a side to Mal that Mike can’t

He’s the most logical and level headed one

Loves collecting things especially memorabilia from places he’s been

He knows so many animal facts and just general knowledge

It makes Mike feel stupid cause he doesn’t know all that but its in his brain, it confused him how that works still

[cupidjyu]

clair de lune

changmin x reader

summary: you and changmin are polar opposites in the dance studio. you're graceful and with a "perfect" image while he goes off on his own way, experimenting with different styles. you hate him and want nothing to do with him. until he chooses you to be his partner in a duet.

genre: dance rivals au, their dance styles are opposites (ballet/hiphop etc), enemies to lovers ish, unknowing pining, self-esteem issues (stop self projecting!), slight hurt/comfort, if you ever watched pride and prejudice (2005) you will recognize scenes, "moonlight" notes: based on the classical song clair de lune, fun fact: i can play the piano! also ik u want me to open requests but gimme like another two weeks to not be exhausted from studies PFF hope you enjoy! word count: 13k (it just keeps growing im sorry)

“Again.”

Wiping off the bead of sweat that traveled agonizingly slow on your forehead, you glanced at the woman—your instructor who was also the bane of your existence–with a furrowed brow. She only stared at you sternly, causing you to sigh with frustration as you turned back to the mirror.

You stretched your arms, trying to make that picture-perfect angle that would satisfy her, and then you pointed your toes, just like you had been told to do since you were young. And then you began to move, your fingers outstretched, your back in a neutral position, and your shoulders–

“Again.”

And this time, you couldn’t constrain the groan that escaped from your lips. You let your muscles relax as you broke out of position to face her with a slightly annoyed frown.

She marked something on her clipboard. Oh, how you hated that clipboard. You once took a glance at it and you had almost cried in bed for the next two days over her incredibly harsh remarks. Constructive criticism, she would say. That… that was just bullying in your opinion.

“Are you giving up?” She practically barked, her voice loud and obnoxious. 

“I’m not–” You rolled your ankle, making sure you didn’t injure it. “I’m just tired. We’ve been practicing for hours.” And then you turned your neck, slightly wincing at the pang of soreness. 

You could’ve sworn her eye twitched as she faked a smile. “For hours because you’re simply not adequate enough to–”

“I am,” You interrupted, your face contorting with exasperation.

She gazed at you with slight surprise. And then she sighed, running a hand through her graying hair. 

“Then why do you keep messing up?” She spoke softly this time, but it was enough to shoot straight through your heart.

“Because I–” You bit your lip, looking down at your pointe shoes. You couldn’t even finish your own sentence because you yourself weren’t sure.

Your instructor stood up, picking up her bag with heavy eyes. “At this rate,” She exhaled lowly. “I might have to give this solo to someone else.”

You widened your eyes and you were immediately rushing to her, hands clasped together. “No, please,” You pleaded. “I– I promise I’ll perfect this. No mistakes. Promise.” You emphasized the last word so clearly that it echoed throughout the room. 

She stared at you with skepticism. 

“Then go,” She uttered. “Start practicing. In two days’ time will be your evaluation and then we’ll decide.”

With a huff of determination, you watched as she opened the door and left. Turning back to the mirror, it was then that you realized just how worn out you looked. Your hair was a mess, the front pieces slightly sticking to your forehead from the “practicing for hours,” which you weren’t exaggerating about at all. Your cheeks were flushed from the constant activity. But despite this, you rolled your ankle once again and began to dance.

Vigorously.

A bit too vigorously.

Every twist and turn started to become more sloppy, more painful. As the song progressed, you found yourself stumbling more and more over your own feet and your lungs began to feel like they would collapse in on itself. 

But you kept going, determined to keep this solo that you’ve worked so hard to get a spot for. 

And it was going well! Amazing actually! Or maybe you were just telling yourself that because soon after your fake words of affirmation came the tripping of your feet and the falling of your whole body against the floor. Your shoulders stiffened as your hands came in contact with the floor and you groaned. 

Luckily, you weren’t exactly hurt anywhere. But you were frustrated. Your friend would always tell you to just take a break but you couldn’t afford that. Instead, you made a move to get up again until your eyes wandered over to where a water bottle had rolled its way over to you. 

Still completely agitated, your hand closed around it and threw it as far away as you could. You watched it skid, all the way down until it hit someone’s shoes. Pointe shoes were nowhere to be seen. Just simple sneakers. And you knew exactly who it was.

“Just when I thought I was being nice,” Changmin hummed, picking the bottle up. “Guess this is mine then.”

His voice was just so… cocky at the moment that you couldn’t help but glare up at him as if to non-verbally tell him to just leave.

The two of you were different. Not just from the pointe shoes and sneakers or from the tight balletwear and the comfortable t-shirt. It was just a lot. While you specialized in the more graceful choreographies and genres like ballet and contemporary, he was the more powerful, sharper one who thrived in hip-hop, popping and the like. And while you spent most of your time perfecting intricate moves, he was frequently finding ways to make his performance more… out there. 

Polar opposites, some people would say.

The only thing that you two had in common was being popular. Not your biggest feat, in your opinion, but it was the truth. In the dance studio, if either of your names were spoken, it was immediately recognized. The both of you were praised, criticized, and talked about on the daily, whether you liked it or not.

Opposites attract, was what other people would say.

But that wasn’t true. At least for the two of you. 

He was just so… arrogant.

“You look worse for wear,” He remarked with an amused smile.

“Thanks for pointing that out,” You snapped, brushing yourself off as you stood up, wincing at the forming bruise on your knee. “What are you doing here?”

“Walking by,” He simply replied.

“You could have just walked by the room then. Not in it.” You took that extra second to look him over. He must have been heading for practice because unlike you, he wasn’t sweaty and didn’t look like a mess. His hair softly fell over his forehead and he had those typical bulky headphones that he always wore to ignore you around his neck.

He smirked. “Just wanted to see how horrible you were doing.”

Fuming, you completely threw away the thought that he looked particularly nice that day. Clenching a fist, all the failed moves in the mirror came rushing back to your vision like waves of the ocean.

“Satisfied? Did you see all the mistakes I made?” You bitterly laughed. It was often just bickering with him. But with your instructor’s voice ringing through your ears obnoxiously, you couldn’t help but snap. With a sigh, you motioned to the door harshly. “Great. So leave.”

You had expected him to retort back. But instead, he just looked at you with an incomprehensible expression. And then his eyes traveled down to the water bottle still in his hand. Out of nowhere, he threw it to you and you scrambled to catch it.

“At least take this,” He replied quietly, no malice behind his tone. 

To say you were confused was an understatement. “Did you put anything in this?”

He laughed. “What? A love potion?”

“No,” You sputtered, toying with the cap of it. “Like a sleeping potion or–”

“And who’s going to take care of you when you’re asleep?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You.” You glared with narrowed eyes. 

“You’re funny,” He sarcastically replied. 

“Are you too much of an asshole to?” A smile tugged on your lips. “Is that why?”

“I’m perfectly capable.” He rolled his eyes. “Just not for you.”

You nodded, fully expecting his answer. And then you jabbed a finger at the door. “Get out then. I need to practice.” Without bidding him goodbye, not even a single wave, you turned around to start the music again.

But then you heard his voice again, calling out to you from across the practice room.

“Moonlight.”

At first, you just thought that he was rambling, saying random things to bother you. But he said it again when you didn’t respond.

“Moonlight,” He said again, a teasing tone suddenly appearing in his voice. With an annoyed exhale, you turned to face him. That was when you came to the revelation that he was addressing you. As moonlight.

“Me?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Yes, you.” He tilted his head slightly. “Good luck with your practice, moonlight.”

Your hand was already raising, threatening to throw the music speaker into his face. “Don’t call me tha–”

“Moonlight,” He repeated. “This song. Clair de lune?”

“What about it?” You eyed him suspiciously.

His gaze searched yours silently for a moment. You’ve always hated it when the two of you locked eyes. It always left you feeling weird inside. Agitated, probably.

“It means moonlight. Which… reminds me of you.”

If you weren’t so exhausted, you would have noticed the way he nervously fumbled for the door and you also would have noticed his small stumble out into the hallway.

–

The lights blared across your vision and the bass of the music pounded from your stomach, all the way down to your ears which only worsened your growing headache. You dreaded this party. But, no matter how many times you complained about it, it happened every single year. Annually, it was a good luck party for those performing at the recital.

You didn’t want to go and you usually never did. But since that solo was meant for the recital, you had forced yourself to dress up and finally open that party invitation with the gold lettering.

You kept to yourself, occasionally waving at fellow dancers and friends. But even while there was a particular amount (read: a lot) of people questioning you about your performance and whether you were dating a famous celebrity (you weren’t), you managed to slip away and grab a drink.

You couldn’t even tell the color of the liquid because of the bright lights flashing about. But hey, at least it tasted good. Weaving through the crowd, you were desperate to find a more secluded place. But that was when you ran into someone.

Him.

Changmin. Of course, you rolled your eyes, he would be here. He had a performance too. Which frankly, you didn’t care about. At all. 

Your eyes skimmed over him for a moment, taking in his party attire. His hair was finally styled up and you were almost jealous over how well the purple lights complimented him.

He looked at you with slight surprise before schooling his expression into something obnoxious. Or teasing. You couldn’t quite tell.

“How’s the solo going?” He spoke with an amused smile. Thankfully, the music had died down. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you had to lean even closer to him just to hear his infuriating insults.

“Amazing,” You immediately replied, maybe too fast and not very convincing. It had gone badly. Fewer mistakes but still much too many. But who were you to tell him that? Not when he would use that as his new monthly taunt. And out of sheer politeness, you smiled disdainfully. “Are you performing?” 

He raised an eyebrow at your obviously faked, higher-pitched voice.

“Drop the formalities.” He shook his head. “But yeah and it’s going to be better than yours. Though, I’m missing a dance partner.”

“A duet?” You tilted your head in confusion.

He nodded, a small, amused smile appearing on his lips. “Why, desperate to sign up?”

“No,” You retorted, scoffing. “Why would I ever want to dance with you?”

He simply shrugged with a smile, which only infuriated you more. With a huff, you stepped forward, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I hope you know that dancing with you is like stepping on a piece of dog sh–” You were interrupted. By your own yelp of all things. It was a common occurrence that when interacting with Changmin, you often forgot your surroundings. It was like this cloud of anger engulfed you constantly.

For example, right now, you completely forgot that you were at a party.

A guy dancing, probably having the time of his life, suddenly bumped into you, causing you to stumble over your own feet. At that point, you sort of just gave up, choosing to accept the embarrassment. But, that was when you felt a hand rush to your side to steady you.

It only briefly brushed against your waist but it sent sparks down your whole spine. Inhaling sharply, you snapped your head to look at Changmin.

“What are you doing?” You hissed.

“What?” He stared at you. “Nothing.”

“You touched me,” You spoke in utter disbelief. The feeling of his fingertips just merely grazing you left you stuttering and you weren’t quite sure why.

“So you don’t fall flat on your face,” He muttered, leaning closer, right up to your ear. Immediately, you were engulfed by his cologne that… much to your demise, smelled really good. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty face.”

You felt your mouth go dry and you harshly pulled away, swallowing thickly. And now, you were incredibly grateful for the bright lights of the party because you couldn’t bear for him to notice your embarrassed expression. Visibly or not, you weren’t sure. Your cheeks felt oddly warm though.

“Well, I hope you–” You cursed yourself for stumbling over your words. “I hope you ruin your… your horrific face.” God, you mentally slapped yourself.

He only grinned. And this time, his hand actually closed around your waist. At first, you thought he was teasing again but you realized that yet again, someone was going to bump into you.

“Don’t lie,” He whispered, quiet enough only for you to hear.

“I’m not.” But your voice wavered.

“Definitely.” His lips pulled up into a teasing smile–one that you couldn’t help but think was attractive–and he walked away.

With a groan, you fixed your clothes and turned around. You let out a low breath, completely overwhelmed by the sight. The crowd was larger than before and the music only increased in volume. And so, holding a hand to your chest–ignoring the weird pounding of your heartbeat from… past events–you navigated through the bout of dancing and laughing people.

At some point, you found yourself in another room, the thumping music only heard through the walls. No matter if you were one of the most popular, successful dancers of the studio, you were still closed off. Like right now, you were pretty sure your instructor would ridicule you for literally hiding behind the curtains, sipping another drink.

Leaning your head back against the wall, you allowed yourself a deep breath as you tried to forget everything. The struggle of your dance routine, the immense and loud party, him and his stupid playful smile. 

But of course, that same him happened to pop up again. But this time, he was with Juyeon. Juyeon was a sweet man and you didn’t mind conversing with him. You had seen the way he danced powerfully yet gracefully at the same time despite his long limbs. His only flaw was that he was friends with… him.

“You still haven’t found a partner?” In the corner of your eye, they walked by, causing you to hide further.

Changmin sighed. “I’m trying.”

“What about Y/n?” Juyeon asked, nudging him with a small smile. “They seem suitable. Beautiful too.”

Your rival paused in his tracks, turning to Juyeon with an unimpressed look.

“Beautiful, but completely intolerable.”

It took all of your willpower not to jump out and throw your glass cup straight into your face. You were about to be flattered, maybe even confront him and tease him for calling you beautiful. But to counter that right after with intolerable?

You hated him.

–

The party was slowly dying down, now reduced to slow music for those couples who kissed in the hallways. You would think they stopped that after high school but apparently they still do so now. You were sure you looked like a mess but you couldn’t care less as you spotted Changmin in the background, leaning against the wall and simply observing the crowd.

Approaching him, you stood next to him. He only regarded you with a glance.

“What about her?” You spoke up, gesturing to a girl. She was talented, most definitely. You’d seen her do all sorts of dances, specializing in the art of tango which you admired.

“Helping me now?” He muttered.

You ignored his question, choosing to stare ahead. With a sigh, he shook his head.

“Her style is completely different from mine. So no.”

“That’s what you look for?” You scrunched up your face. “You know it’s boring when your styles are exactly the same.”

He turned to you and you tried to ignore the fact that when his hair was slightly disheveled and the top few buttons of his shirt undone, he didn’t look half bad. Still, his looks didn’t quite fit his irritating personality.

“Then what should I look for in a dance partner?” He looked at you, bored.

You thought for a moment. And then you let your hand trail down to his sleeve. Grasping the fabric, you pulled him closer.

“Someone who compliments your own dancing,” You whispered. He stared down at you in surprise. This time, his expression wasn’t an act to make you annoyed. His wide eyes, lips parted… were all real as his gaze traveled across your features, gulping nervously. “Even if…” You paused, marveling in the way his cheeks flushed under the party lighting. “They’re completely intolerable.”

He inhaled, about to walk forward. “Y/n–”

But you were already stepping away, creating that distance that you were most familiar with.

–

Often, dance played out in steps. One-two, one-two-three, et cetera, et cetera. The wave of your arms and the placement of your feet moved in these rhythmical steps. Or at least, you tried to get them to move in the right rhythm. It seemed that the only thing that was on time was the fast pace of your breath.

Breathing heavily, you stood up to face your three evaluators. Two of them had a somewhat satisfied look on their face, barely writing anything on their clipboards. But one… her. You grimaced, remembering the sight of her constantly picking up her pen in the middle of your routine, even frowning and shaking her head.

Your hair was messy and probably damp with sweat from the vigorous evaluation but you still stood tall. Up until that one word, that left everything crashing down on you.

“Out.”

Stricken, you turned to face your own instructor. 

“What?” You stuttered.

She stabbed her clipboard with the pen, tip down. “I said, you’re out,” She spoke in an obnoxiously calm voice. “I already found someone else to take your spot the other day.”

“But I–” You sighed in frustration, stepping forward, ignoring the searing pain of your joints from all the constant practicing that resulted in absolutely nothing. “I tried so hard for this. You taught me this solo, how could you–”

“I’m sorry,” She interrupted firmly. “Next time, Y/n.”

You watched each of them. There was some sense of remorse behind their expression but you could see something else. Something that pertained to… greed, money. You always knew that this dance studio–with its esteem and popularity–always would have those people who bought their way in. Those people who wanted your solo so badly that they obtained it with a simple check from their bank.

But you couldn’t change anything about that. So, with a deep breath–one that was concerningly shaky–you stepped backwards to the door.

“Fine,” You muttered. “It’s fine.”

Before you could even register it yourself, you were running out the door, the sound of it slamming behind you. Again, like those rhythmical steps, you tried to breathe in and out, tried to compose yourself. But, as soon as you turned the corner, away from any watchful eyes, you found yourself sliding down the wall. 

Bringing your knees up to your chest, you buried your face in your arms, allowing a few tears to slip. It was refreshing, really. You were always expected to be the perfect, most graceful dancer of the studio. But sometimes, it was hard to keep that up.

You let yourself relax, sniffling occasionally as you remembered all the hard work that turned into pointless frowns, sighs, and pen-writing. But then the sound of footsteps approached you. Still, you didn’t bother to look up.

“How’s the solo going?” A familiar, dreadful voice. You felt the warmth of a shoulder bump against yours as the person sat down next to you. Even through your muted ears, you could hear the thump of his head as he set it back against the wall.

With an exhausted exhale, you looked up, only to come face-to-face with Changmin. You already knew it was him but just the sight of your rival still brought you a scowl as you looked back down into your lap.

“Is that the only way to start your conversations?” You spoke softly.

He only stared at you wordlessly. You could feel his eyes on you, studying the tears that trailed down your face.

At his lack of response, you groaned. “It went horrible. I lost it. Happy now?” You bitterly smiled, wiping at your cheeks harshly, wincing at the burn of the fabric of your sleeves. When you turned to face him again, you realized that his face had fallen. 

“You… lost it?” He asked quietly.

You forced a roll of your eyes. Though, you knew it was useless to try to pretend that you felt perfectly content with this.

“Yes,” You breathed with frustration. “Yes, I did. So go. Laugh in my face and leave.”

But you didn’t hear a single huff of amusement. It was completely silent. Except for the shifting of clothes–the shifting of him moving closer to you. Now, his whole side was pressed to yours and again, you were reminded of how nice he smelled.

“I won’t laugh,” He whispered.

“Okay then.” You glanced at him briefly. “Fine. What are you doing here then?”

He turned to you slightly and you flinched when you saw his hand lifting up towards your face. You stayed frozen once you realized that he was picking up a thread of fabric stuck in your hair. Probably from your constant rubbing of your tears.

“Small talk,” He eventually replied, his voice surprisingly soft and… gentle.

You snorted, slapping his hand away. “With your rival?”

“Best to learn your enemies,” He humorously responded.

And even with your tears drying on your skin, you laughed. It was quiet, slightly weak from emotions of failure. But you still laughed. Because of Changmin of all people. With a sigh, you patted at the drying tears.

“God, I probably look like a mess.”

“You don’t.”

You turned to him in slight surprise before narrowing your eyes. “How can I trust you?”

“Just do.” He smiled. 

You hummed, shutting your eyes with exhaustion. “Then I’ll take your word for it.”

“It’s quite the opposite actually,” He continued. Perking up, you grinned playfully at him. 

“And what do you mean by that? What’s the opposite of looking like a mess?” 

“Looking…” His voice was barely a whisper now. “Looking pretty.”

Your breath hitched at his words. You didn’t know what you were expecting but you weren’t expecting that. But again, he was your rival. He was probably just teasing you.

“Are you saying I’m a pretty crier?”

He paused. And finally, without any dark rooms or party lighting, you could see the flush on his cheeks. “No comment?”

You laughed softly. But your content expression quickly turned into a small frown. “Shouldn’t you be practicing right now? You have a performance for the recital.”

He never answered your question. Instead, he looked down to where your hands and elbows were bruised from constant practice. Then he faced you with an incomprehensible look in his face.

“But you’re not performing at all?” He asked instead. 

Biting the inside of your cheeks to keep the tears from bursting out of your eyes again, you shook your head. 

He grew quiet again. You always hated how hard it was to decipher Changmin. He often trailed off and wouldn’t say anything, leaving you to decide if he was either going to throw another insult at you or finally leave you alone.

With an annoyed huff, you finally asked him, “What’re you planning?”

“Nothing.” He faked a smile. “I’ll… see you around?”

You stood up, your legs wobbly from the drained feeling after you poured out all of your emotions in the span of a few minutes. “Not for a while,” You sourly remarked. “I’m useless now. See you in two months.”

He tilted his head, his faux smile turning into an amused, almost mischievous one. “See you tomorrow.”

You were never one to question his odd responses. He just got the time wrong. That’s all.

—

You watched numbly as your ballet shoes tumbled to the floor. With a clenched jaw, you reached down to pick it up and shove it into your bag before turning back to your half-empty locker.

As you stood there, contemplating if you needed to bring home any of this stuff since you weren’t going to be dancing for a while anyway, your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Looking up, there was a woman poking her head in.

“Y/n?” She looked straight at you. 

“Me?” You pointed at yourself in disbelief. For a second, a spark of hope appeared in the depths of your heart. But it quickly flickered away. Maybe she was about to shove it in your face that you weren’t supposed to be here today. Which, you weren’t. But, you just needed to pack up some of your belongings.

“Y/n.” She smiled in strange relief. As if she was searching for you for a while. “You’re needed in the practice room.”

When you only stared at her in utter confusion, she laughed, completely relaxed which only caused to spiral into more perplexion.

“I forgot to mention which one! It’s the one at the end of the right hall.” 

You only raised an eyebrow at her, clutching your bag. Why was she acting so natural? As if telling you that you needed to report to practice when you were told very clearly that you were out as if that was the most normal thing in the world. 

“I don’t… I don’t have anything to perform though?” You stared at her.

She gazed back, looking at you as if you had just confessed the worst murder of all time.

“Yes you do?” She replied. “Come on. You’ll be late.”

Maybe this was all some sick joke. Still incredibly confused, you followed her out onto the hallway, all the way down to an unfamiliar practice room. This whole section was dedicated to something else. Something that wasn’t… ballet or contemporary.

She gestured for you to open the door. Looking at her with a bored expression, you pushed the door open and in just a split second, you were gaping at the person who stood at the doorway.

Oh my god. 

Your hand tightened around the doorknob, threatening to slam the door closed in hopes that this was all a bad dream. But the door refused to budge. 

Changmin. Changmin had placed his foot down to stop it from moving an inch. He tilted his head and lifted an eyebrow.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He looked at you completely seriously. Which you hated. Because you had really hoped this was all a joke.

“What are you doing here?” You still attempted to shut the door. But he still held it open.

But suddenly, another man appeared. You didn’t recognize him but you assumed he was Changmin’s own dance instructor. He had on a bright, enthusiastic smile, much unalike to your own who constantly had a stern, disappointed frown.

“Y/n!” He spoke marvelously. “Splendid choice, ‘min.”

Changmin only glanced at you, slightly sheepishly and with his ears were tinted red. He quickly recovered though which made you wonder why he was shy in the first place.

“Surprise surprise?” He smugly grinned.

You were absolutely speechless, unable to say anything. All you could do was stare—gape at him with a dropped jaw.

“What?” You blurted out.

Changmin almost laughed at your reaction. But still, he led you out to the hallway. Hopefully for some sort of explanation.

“You’re my new dance partner.”

Okay, that wasn’t the explanation that you wanted.

“You’re what?” You practically exclaimed.

“You heard me,” He whispered. His eyes darted to the practice room briefly. “He’ll be teaching you the moves for the first few days and then we’ll practice together,” He explained in a completely calm voice.

What was up with everyone and acting completely natural in such an absurd situation?”

“Are we not going to talk about the fact that you chose me to be your dance partner,” You deadpanned. “We’re supposed to hate each other.”

“Then still do,” He sighed. “But trust me on this.” He stepped closer and in the corner of your eye, you could see his hand twitch—almost like he was going to grab yours.

“How many times will you ask me to trust you?” You asked quietly. “That’s not very easy, especially after you’ve practically insulted me all these years.”

“I know, and I’m—“ The apology that threatened to escape his lips was interrupted by the door opening. His instructor poked a head out with an excited smile.

“What’s taking you lovebirds so long?” He wiggled his eyebrows. And now that you looked closely, you could read his ID card that read, “Eric.” He looked oddly young to be an instructor but you didn’t question it, too focused on the fact that you now had to dance with your one and only rival.

Changmin scowled. “Give us a minute won’t you? I’m still older than you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He sighed before disappearing back into the room.

Changmin turned back to you, looking at you with soft eyes that only caused your stomach to twist even more.

“Yesterday,” He breathed. “You looked…”

“Like shit? I know,” You snapped.

“No! You—“ He groaned. “I can’t explain it right now. But Y/n.” Again, his hand twitched to hold yours.

“What?” Your voice was meek. Why were you suddenly so nervous?

“I’m not blind to see that you’re talented. And who was it who told me that I should find someone who complimented my dancing?” He paused and winced sheepishly. “Even if completely intolerable.”

“You think that I compliment your dancing?” You whispered. “But we never danced together before.”

“All the more reason to test it out?” He gave you an unsure smile.

You bit your lip, completely conflicted.

“Changmin… I don’t know.”

He looked at you, his gaze gentle. “If you want to back out, that’s fine. I just—“ His cheeks were flushed again, a pretty pink. Pretty? “I wanted to do something. For you.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for any spark of amusement. But, he still looked back at you earnestly.

“Aren’t we rivals?” You asked again.

“Are we?” He simply replied, never providing you with an actual answer.

“We are,” You breathed out, but the way your voice trembled slightly wasn’t very convincing. 

“Whatever you want,” He whispered. “So what do you say, dear rival?” The way he said the last word wasn’t convincing either. None of this was convincing.

You sighed, defeated and unable to find a reason to say no. Hanging your head low, you noticed the way his hand ghosted over yours. Was it there all that time?

“Fine,” You muttered. “But don’t expect much.”

He hummed teasingly. “I expect a lot from someone as talented as you.”

And much to your horror, you felt yourself blush. Shoving him with an annoyed (embarrassed) scowl, you stepped away, finally noticing just how close he was to you.

“Shut up,” You said. “Let’s keep this completely professional.”

“Whatever you want,” He repeated, smiling softly.

—

You hated to admit it but the duet was fun. It was so unlike what you usually learned. You were used to the perfectly practiced poses, the straightened back, and the straining of all your limbs to get that pristine, elegant image that you were supposed to keep up. But this dance… was more freeing. It had a romantic aspect to it but it was fun and energetic while still telling a story through the choreography. 

A love story of all things.

However, you did notice that it was hard to learn the dance alone. Even if you asked Eric to dance in place as Changmin temporarily, he would refuse, saying it would ruin the “chemistry” between you two.

What chemistry? There was none. You were sure of that. 

But even the voice in your head wavered over that statement.

Now, the time that you dreaded has arrived. The one when you would actually have to practice the choreography with your dance partner.

To say it was awkward was an understatement. It was appallingly difficult.

The two of you wouldn’t stop bickering. It wasn’t really Changmin correcting your dance like you had thought. It was just… bickering.

“What if I stepped on your foot right now?” You grinned.

“Don’t,” He groaned. “It already hurts.”

“But it would be funny.”

“My ankle is twisted,” He replied with a frown, grimacing.

Immediately you were widening your eyes and stepping forward. You didn’t even notice that you were looking him over with worry.

“It is?” And just like he had done before, your hand ghosted over his. “Why didn’t you get it checked? You should be resti—“

Except he only regarded you with a smug smile.

“Is someone worried for me?”

You stared at him, your mouth agape. And then you grumbled, stepping away, only to feel a spark through your wrist where it brushed against his knuckles.

“Your ankle isn’t twisted,” You gritted out.

He grinned wider. “It’s not but I appreciate your worry anyway.”

“I was not worrying,” You muttered, looking away.

He huffed. “And my name isn’t Changmin.”

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Get what over with?”

“This… move,” You mumbled, letting your eyes travel down to his hand. What was up with you and his hands? You didn’t know either.

And by this move, you meant the move where the two of you would have to hold hands and he would twirl you and pull you close, and— you hated everything about it.

“Don’t we just—“ He was the one who took the lead, guiding your hand gently to his. But he paused in his tracks once he felt your pinky link with his. And like he was electrocuted, he pulled his hand back.

You held back a smile, finding this awkwardness all too painfully amusing. 

“Do we intertwine the fingers or…” He trailed off.

“Or just hold palms?” You offered, cringing at how warm your face felt at the moment.

“No, we’re supposed to—“ He reached forward, grabbing your hand in an odd way, his fingers hilariously stiff.

“Ah,” You whined. “It feels weird.”

He huffed, his ears red. “Of course it does. We never…”

If Eric was monitoring the two of you right now—which he said he would in an hour or two—he would have bursted out laughing at the sight. The both of you facing each other, hands fumbling with frustrated faces—one would think you were playing a game of rock, paper, scissors.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, staring at the way he just poked one finger into your palm.

“What are you doing?” He whispered back, glaring at the way your fingers closed around his ring finger.

“I can’t—“ You groaned. “I can’t do this with you.”

“You have to. Just—“ And like a leap of faith, he finally reached forward properly and grabbed your hand in his. After all those instances of your hands merely hovering, it felt almost… nice to feel his warm skin properly. His hand was comforting and you watched with wide eyes at the way he so naturally intertwined his fingers with yours.

Your breath was caught in your throat and you observed silently as he brought your connected hands up to his chest, holding it close. He looked up at you, his gaze softening.

“Like this?” He whispered.

“Yes,” You replied, almost breathlessly.

He gave you a small smirk. “Then focus.” 

And without a warning, he brought your hand up and twirled you around. You stumbled slightly but managed to gain your balance as he pulled you in, right up to his chest. Instead of just your hands, it was your whole body against him.

“See?” He smiled down at you, slightly out of breath. “Wasn’t so bad right?”

“Professional,” You breathed out. “It’s because I’m being professional.”

“Mhm,” He eyed you teasingly. His eyes trailed down. “Do professionals still hold hands even after practice is done?”

You gasped quietly, embarrassment flooding through you.

“Oh, I—” You tried to pull your hand out of his grasp but he only tightened further, keeping your hand in his. His hold was gentle and warm, which put a funny feeling in your chest. You narrowed your eyes. “Changmin,” You warned.

“It’s comfortable,” He murmured and before you could protest, he was bringing your hand up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

Your breath hitched in your throat. “You’re so annoying.” You glared.

He only pressed another kiss as a response, leaving you stuttering.

–

Another thing you hated to admit: you had grown closer to Changmin. Blah blah, you’re still rivals of course. Just maybe… with more smiles and friendly remarks. That’s normal, isn’t it? For enemies?

The dance routine drastically improved. The two of you were comfortable with holding hands now, moving past each other with fleeting touches. It became almost natural. But then again, that was just what happened when you were being professional. Obviously.

But still, nothing could compare to the growth of your relationship with him. You didn’t hate it. It felt nice to have someone who understood you. You learned more about him as a person. You learned that he was always exhausted after dancing and then learned that he often forgot to eat anything after practice. They go hand-in-hand. So it became–much to your disliking–your job to bring him a small snack every day so that he wouldn’t faint. 

He learned more about you as a person too. He learned that you weren’t used to freestyling or experimenting since you were so trained to have a picture-perfect image. When he learned that, it became–much to his… liking–his job to make you laugh and relax whenever you got too caught up in your internal expectations.

He wasn’t so bad after all. 

He was still annoying though. Just like right now.

“Just once,” He pleaded. “Try it.”

“I’m not– used to the choreography being changed. Or anything being changed.” You gave him a nervous look, your fingers fidgeting restlessly. “And you know that.” Your voice quietened as all the memories of people criticizing you came rushing through. 

His gaze softened as he studied your anxious-ridden features. “I do know that. But that doesn’t mean you can’t.”

You looked at him skeptically. “I’m not like you.”

“You’re not,” He agreed. “You’re you. And that’s what I find amazing.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “That’s not–”

He shook his head, taking a step forward. He opened his mouth to speak but you shushed him with a simple glare.

“And don’t you dare ask me to trust you,” You ridiculed. 

He gave you an amused smile. “How’d you predict that?”

“Because you’ve asked me plenty of times,” You deadpanned.

“Ah…” He grinned. “You’re right. And every time I do, you reply that you don’t.”

You grew silent at that. And then you let your eyes trail down, away from his gaze. You noticed that whenever you did so, he never let his own eyes wander. They were always on you. Across the room, the hallway, even when you were sitting right in front of him.

With a deep breath, your cheeks beginning to flush already, you spoke something so quietly that he had to lean in to hear.

“I trust you now though.”

You heard his breath hitch, causing you to look up into his eyes. And were his eyes always so… bright and sparkly?

“You trust me?” He whispered.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“If we weren’t so short on time, I would.” He smiled. He reached down and like it was the most common occurrence, he took your hand in his, leading you to the middle of the room. “Then, if you trust me, won’t you do the thing?”

“What thing?”

“That thing.”

You stared at him, trying to feign innocence so that you could somehow get out of it. But he only looked at you, almost challenging you with his gaze.

Eventually, you groaned in defeat. “Fine,” You grumbled.

The next move, which the two of you had already perfected, was a simple touch on the waist and that was it. But Changmin just had to come up with a new idea. He insisted on a dip. The type of dip that was reserved for people who were actually in love and… had feelings for each other. Which, the two of you definitely didn’t fit in that type of category. Professional dancers was all.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” You spoke over the music. 

He smiled charmingly. “Just enjoy the moment. It will.”

And so, holding your breath, you approached him. His hand automatically came to your waist, just like it had in the original move. But then, he slowly, guided you so that you were leaning backward. Feeling yourself grow warm over his gentle touch that held you steady so that you wouldn’t fall, you allowed yourself to fall. Literally, into his arms. 

After the count was over, he gently brought you back to stand up. And yet another thing that you hated to admit: that new dance move left your heart pounding. And it wasn’t from exhilaration. 

You were breathless as you stared at him in shock. It all came rushing to you. The small details–the softness of his eyes, the hands that held onto your waist tightly but never enough to hurt, the small smile on his lips when he probably noticed that you had blushed.

A quiet “oh” was all you could muster.

He gave you a soft smile. You noticed that was the only thing he regarded you with these days. Occasionally, it would be his usual, teasing, mocking smile. But recently, it’s just been that one that left your hands feeling sweaty.

“And if I said I told you so?” 

“Don’t,” You scowled.

But he only leaned closer. You weren’t even doing the move again yet his hand still found its place on your lower back again. And like you were in a trance, your eyes fluttered as you drew closer to him. You looked straight into his eyes, only for you to realize that he wasn’t returning that same eye contact. Instead, his gaze flickered down to your lips. You sputtered and your hands flew to his chest, trying to create more distance.

“Don’t get too carried away,” You murmured.

“I wasn’t,” He whispered. “It was you who was leaning closer.”

“No,” You breathed. “It was you.”

He watched you fondly. Of course, he would notice the way you stumbled over your words.

“Maybe it was the both of us.”

—

One would think that after the routine was perfected—which it was—the two of you would be off to perform it, get those congratulatory flowers, and be off. But no. There was always that extra step of the stage rehearsal.

It was the one where you had to practice the routine on the actual stage, in front of two people: Changmin’s instructor Eric, and your instructor. You haven’t seen her since she kicked you off, so you couldn’t help your eyes from darting to her ever-growing sneer.

You always despised this part, mostly because it was nerve-wracking. Even though there were only two people in the audience, the spotlights, and the music blaring through the speakers made it all feel real.

It didn’t help that your instructor kept writing things in her clipboard. And it was only when you were in the center. For heaven’s sake, Eric didn’t even own a clipboard.

“You’re shaking,” A deeper voice whispered.

You blinked and turned to where Changmin was standing in front of you. It was no use hiding anything from him. It was almost like he could read you like a book.

You shook your head, pulling him into position. But, it was hard as it was him facing away from the crowd while you… you had to face the audience—more specifically, your instructor.

“I’m just tired,” You whispered as your eyes glanced down. Eric was smiling softly while she picked up her pen, leaving your heart pounding. Changmin turned to look at you briefly and you could feel his gaze, focused on how you fidgeted nervously.

“I tried to tell her that she didn’t need to come to the rehearsal,” He muttered back, his hand coming up to your waist just like the choreography asked. “But she insisted.”

You hummed. “I wonder why.”

“Ignore her,” He replied, guiding your hand up to his shoulder. Just like the choreography asked.

“I can’t,” You whispered, your voice almost pleading. “She’s looking at me.”

Suddenly, you felt his hand close around your waist tightly as he shifted the position. You watched, bewildered once you realized that even though his back was still to the crowd, he was shielding you with his body. Away from prying eyes, away from anyone who would make you nervous, he stood in front of you, his arm protectively around your body.

This was not the choreography. This wasn’t what it asked. Yet it made you feel that smallest bit of solace that you needed all this time.

“Better?” He spoke in a hushed tone, giving you a reassuring smile.

Unable to do or say anything, you only looked at him with flushed cheeks before nodding quietly.

He only continued to follow your features with his soft gaze. He never attempted to make you move, knowing that you were still nervous, your hand on his shoulder tightening in intervals whenever you remembered that you were still being watched. Instead, he just stayed put, watching you and making sure you were okay.

Alarms blared in your ears, telling you that you needed to start dancing or else you would be scolded. But, with Changmin’s hand closed around your waist, you couldn’t help but melt. You were sure that the two instructors were watching–probably extremely confused, but you were more focused on someone else. Changmin–whose body shielded you from the blinding stage lights and whose eyes scanned over you attentively.

“Thank you,” was what you could finally muster up with a soft voice.

He gave you a small tilt of his head, accompanied by a lilt of his lips. 

“Of course,” He replied. “Take your time. Whenever you’re ready.”

You bit your lip, shaking your head with a growing smile. “They’re waiting.”

“So let them wait.”

Your shoulders shook with a silent laugh. You were about to joke about how endearing he looked when protective but you stopped for two reasons. One–you were supposed to be rivals and that wouldn’t be a very rival-y thing to say. Two–Eric spoke up, his loud voice echoing through the concert hall.

“Alright,” He yelled, his voice laced with a teasing tone. “Lovebirds, let’s take five!”

Clearing your throat, your cheeks flaming, you pulled away from his hold. You didn’t notice Changmin staring after you longingly.

–

The five-minute break came and went a bit too quickly for your liking. Luckily, Eric had somehow convinced your instructor to take a lunch break. As you were fixing up the laces of your shoes, he approached you with a kind smile.

“She’s all done and taken care of,” The younger man joked, brushing off his shoulder comically. You smiled in relief. And then he sat down next to you. “Listen. On the agenda, I’m supposed to evaluate each of you individually, to make sure everything’s down and ready. So, during her lunch break, let’s get that done. Yeah?”

You nodded and stood up, approaching the stage. Oh, but you hated how steep the stairs were. Trying not to stumble, you took the first step. You were about to take the second when you felt another presence behind you. You hated how you could recognize him immediately.

You felt Changmin’s hand, gently take yours as he helped you up the stairs. When finally up on the stage, you turned around to tease him about being such a gentleman. But, his back was already turned, walking away.

But when you narrowed your eyes and looked closely, you could see his hand flex. Almost like he was embarrassed and… nervous after helping you up on the stage.

You caught yourself smiling, your heart blooming into something new. Except, you weren’t quite sure if it actually was new.

But Eric’s voice caught you off guard, shaking you out of your little trance.

“What’s so amusing?” He grinned.

You shook your head, biting back a shy smile. “Nothing.”

–

“How’s it feel? Your stylist looked you over, even giving you jazz hands to help you cheer up. Dress rehearsal–literally meant that you had to wear your performance outfit even when the audience was practically empty. 

You scrunched your face up in discomfort, looking at yourself in the mirror. You had to admit, it was a pretty look. It incorporated various little details of what you were most familiar with, ballet. It was a graceful, flowy outfit but there was something different about it. There were other… parts to it. Spontaneous colors and pieces stuck out, representing your dance partner.

And of course, there was romance in it. Roses specifically, delicately sewn into the fabric. And there was a bright red one, tucked behind your ear.

“It’s beautiful,” You whispered. But just at that moment, you twitched awkwardly. “A little itchy.”

Your stylist laughed, pulling at a loose seam. “It’s just one night.”

You froze, your shoulders raising. “Yeah,” You breathed. “One night.” And it would all be over. This impetuous thing. After that one night, you would be forced to go back to keeping up that image that you hated and loved at the same time. You would return to the same routine of scolding because you didn’t do well enough and the scorn looks because you couldn’t lift your leg high enough. 

And Changmin.

He would be over too. He would go his own way, dancing with experimentation and freedom. You wouldn’t see him except on your breaks which only resulted in petty arguments and glares. What would happen to those kind smiles that you would share occasionally and the fleeting touches even when you weren’t practicing the choreography? Would it all disappear?

“Is everything okay?” The stylist asked. 

You blinked and straightened up. “Great,” You said as you forced a smile. With a deep breath, you headed to the door, ready to greet Changmin who must also be dressed in his own outfit. 

As you walked onto the stage, you froze once again when you saw him standing in front of you, a sheepish smile on his lips. 

“Hi,” You whispered, looking him over. Oh, you hated it. You hated everything–how he looked charming with his hair so meticulously styled, how the flowy, white shirt hugged his shoulders and waist so perfectly, how his eyes naturally sparkled, even when the stage lights were off.

“Hey, you.” He grinned. And you hated how his gaze traveled over you slowly, taking in the sight. Suddenly, you felt the urge to wrap your arms over yourself.

You gave him a small laugh, stepping forward. There was no one else in the concert hall right now. Eric and the director of the recital must be running late. And yes, somehow, Changmin managed to keep your instructor from coming back in the meantime. It was just the two of you, standing in the middle of the stage, unlit but bright enough to emphasize both of your shy smiles.

You hated him. 

But… his smile and his soft gaze. It was all too hard to resist.

Clearing your throat, you played with the hem of your clothes. “What do you…” You trailed off, fighting the urge to stumble over your words nervously. “What do you think?” You looked at him expectantly. He only stared at you wordlessly, which only furthered your anxiousness. Forcing a roll of your eyes, trying to act natural, you shifted on your feet and avoided his watchful gaze. “And don’t say I look bad because I’m sure that–”

“You look pretty.”

You inhaled sharply, whipping your head to look at him again. His smile looked almost fond and he never seemed to take his eyes off you. Instead, he only leaned closer, bending his head forward to observe the rose tucked behind your ear.

“Very pretty,” He whispered. You could only stay there, completely rigid as you felt his hand come up to the side of your face to adjust that same rose, his touch light and gentle. 

“Oh,” You finally breathed out. “Thank you.” You cursed at yourself for lowering your voice from embarrassment. It only made him lean closer to hear you.

And it seemed that Eric had burst through the doors, only to witness the two of you stupidly smiling at each other.

–

Just like you had expected, Eric and the director watched your routine. Over and over, you had to perform it so that they would catch any mistakes. By the fifth time, the two of you were practically gasping for air.

“One more time?” Eric suggested, looking at you with pity once he noticed you almost fall over from exhaustion if it wasn’t for Changmin who steadied you with a simple touch on your waist.

But then, the director stepped forward. “Actually,” She spoke up. “I think that we just have to get the ending right.”

You glanced at Changmin, only for him to do the same. Just like your brief glances, the position at the very end of the performance was always awkward. The two of you could never quite get it down.

Since the dance was more on the… romantic side, you were expected to face each other, hands intertwined and held close to your chests. And Eric had especially emphasized staring very deeply into your eyes, much to your dismay. Oh and to stand very close–so close that you were practically kissing.

But, you always refused. Changmin as well. You would take a step back and he would hold your hand a bit further away from his chest, creating an odd-looking distance.

So that was what you did. Which, didn’t seem to satisfy the director at all.

“That’s all you can do?” She questioned, leaning forward in her chair. “Put more into it!”

You bit your lip nervously, taking a half-step closer.

“More!” She exclaimed, causing Eric to laugh evilly.

Changmin glared at them playfully before yanking you forward, right up against his chest. You sputtered, looking at him in surprise. He gave you a small, soft smile, though there was still a hint of teasing behind his eyes.

The director stayed silent and for a moment, you thought that she was satisfied enough. But then, she slammed her hand down. “More! You can do better than that!”

Your palms were practically sweating from how long you were holding hands and your face also felt incredibly hot from how close his lips were to yours. But still, with a sigh, you shuffled ever so closer, until the front of your shoes were touching. Changmin simply watched you with gentle eyes.

“Mor–”

Eric groaned, and you could see him standing up in protest in his peripheral view. He threw his hand out to the stage. “Is this not close enough?”

The director snickered. “Oh, definitely. I just wanted to see how close they willingly would get.”

Immediately, the two of you were blushing. But still, Changmin didn’t make a move to step backward and away from you. And so, you gulped, choosing to avoid his gaze.

“On second thought,” Eric called out. “You’re kind of off-center… if you guys could move to the right a bit?”

After this, you would be done. You would perform the routine on the recital night and this would all be over. Except, you weren’t too sure if you wanted it to be over. You were still deciding on that. When you looked up into Changmin’s eyes, you found that invisible weight–the one that leaned to you wanting this to last forever–to become heavier and heavier.

Ignoring your rushing thoughts, you shuffled to the right, your hands still grasping his. He shuffled along with you, taking mini-steps backward until you reached the tape on the floor that signaled the center.

You stared at Changmin, eyes sparkling as he did the same. And then, you found yourself laughing. Laughing for what? You weren’t sure, but you felt like you were brimming with joy. The awkward shuffling to get to the center, the warm hands intertwined with yours, the surprised yet oddly fond look on his face when you giggled–you couldn’t help but just… feel a certain emotion. You weren’t sure what. Was it relaxation or something else?

He looked at you, his own smile growing on his lips. And then he joined in on you with the laughing, leaning closer to hide his face in your neck.

And yes, you were still in that same ending position. Except, it wasn’t awkward anymore.

“I envy you,” The director sighed, dramatically falling back into her chair. “You have such heart-pounding, romantic chemistry!’

The both of you froze and turned to her in panic.

“Oh, no–” You rushed to say, only to be cut off by Changmin who was also panicking.

“We’re not like–”

Eric only raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “You cannot be that blind,” He deadpanned. “Just look in front of you.”

When you looked back into Changmin’s eyes, you not only saw it–the eyes that you dreamed about more often and the lips that you sometimes wondered how they tasted–but you could feel the now familiar pounding in your heart. You wondered if he felt the same.

–

On the night before the performance, you found yourself sitting on a bench outside of the dance studio. The crickets were chirping, keeping you from being completely alone with your thoughts. You tried to count the stars or the cars that passed by, but it was of no use, as all you could think of were the endless possibilities of the recital going completely wrong.

But your ears picked up the sound of someone’s footsteps, slightly kicking at the concrete. And then he sat next to you. Changmin. It was always him. And for some reason, you found his warmth almost comforting–something that melted away the rigid clasp around your nerves.

“Okay?” He asked, his tone quiet to match the atmosphere of the calm night that differed from your tight chest.

“Yeah,” You whispered, turning to him. He wasn’t looking. Maybe he was trying to count the stars too. “Just…” You sighed, embarrassed. “Nervous.”

“Don’t be.” He smiled as he turned to face you. “You’re amazing.”

“I’m…” You tilted your head and furrowed your eyebrows.

“What?” He widened his eyes cutely. “You don’t think so? Though,” He laughed briefly. “Better than me? Probably no–”

“No,” You blurted out, catching him off guard. “I’m just–” You exhaled with frustration and confusion. “Why are you so nice to me? I thought we were…” You trailed off then, choosing to turn back to the twinkling stars. Yet they only reminded you of his eyes.

“Rivals? We still are,” He joked. 

You could only give him a weak laugh in response. He looked at you cautiously before turning his gaze down to his lap where his fingers were fidgeting nervously.

“But as for caring for you…” He spoke quietly. “Take a wild guess.”

You looked at him, trying to decipher his strange behavior. But, all you could get from your observations was that his cheeks and ears were oddly red. 

“Because…” You thought for a moment. “If you weren’t you would be kicked off the team?”

He gave you a small smile but shook his head. 

“Because you’re in a particularly good mood?”

“No,” He breathed out.

And you knew that there was one more reason. But you were terrified to say it. You didn’t know why but it was just… frightening. But, when he only gazed at you expectantly, you knew that you were being forced to say it.

“Because you…” Your voice quietened, but you knew that Changmin could see the way your mouth formed the word ‘like.’ Slowly, your voice grew in volume to finish the question. “...me?”

And what was even more terrifying was that he nodded wordlessly. Or was it thrilling? You couldn’t tell. But all you knew was that your heart was beating fast again. And it was all for a different reason.

“Changmin,” You whispered, too shocked to form a cohesive sentence. “I–”

“I do,” He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for an answer. “It’s because I like you.”

And it hit you like the spot lights did to your eyes. He would always smile at you softly, distract you whenever you were nervous, and his touches were always gentle. You thought it was just part of his demeanor but now, things were different now. He never regarded others with that affectionate smile and soft gaze. It was only when his eyes would land on you, that his expression would change into something strangely affectionate.

“I don’t know what to say,” You shakily replied, watching as he stood up from the bench. He gave you a small smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” He mumbled, about to turn away but your hands grasped onto his sleeve. 

“Wait,” You rushed to say. He turned to you, his eyes filled with hope and disappointment, all at the same time. “Changmin.”

“Hm?” 

“After this night… will we go back to the way we were?” You looked up at him. And instead of pulling his wrist out of your grasp, he reached forward, enclosing your hand in his. Your eyes flitted down to his action, breath held.

“Do you mean when I would think of you every day?” He raised an eyebrow.

You playfully slapped him. Or, at least tried to, until he tightened his hold on your hand, keeping you still.

“Don’t lie.” You rolled your eyes.

He shook his head before gently guiding you to stand up with him. You followed and then you gasped quietly when you felt a rose being tucked behind your ear, just like your stylist had done for your outfit–for your performance tomorrow.

“I’m not lying,” He whispered. “I never was.”

You swallowed thickly. “Even when you said that I remind you of… the moonlight?”

He hummed before adjusting the rose slightly so that it sat perfectly in your hair. And that was when you realized the rose was blue, rather than the classic red. You watched him curiously until he gave you a soft smile. 

He tapped the rose gently, his fingertip brushing against your ear. 

“You’re just like the moonlight.”

–

You breathed in deeply, closing your eyes until you heard the curtains rise and the shuffle of the audience, expectantly waiting for your performance. It only took you a few hours before to find out that your duet with Changmin was the most anticipated one. In fact, it was on the front page of the pamphlet and displayed brightly on one of those LED screens outside of the concert hall.

When you blinked your eyes open, you were met with millions–at least it felt like it–of faces staring back at you. Immediately, you felt the need to freeze up and forget everything that you’ve worked so hard for. But once you felt that familiar squeeze on your waist from the man who stood next to you, everything came rushing back to you.

Soon enough, the music started and like it was automatic, your head snapped up to face him. The beginning move, the one that you practiced the most unintentionally, was easy to spot the differences over the time. When you first started practicing together, he wouldn’t even look you in the eye out of arrogance.  Now, even though he still wouldn’t, you could see that it was for a different reason. He was too embarrassed to.

As you moved to the rhythm, fleeting touches on his shoulder and down his chest before breaking apart, you realized that so much has changed. The hesitant grasp on your waist was firm now–protective. 

He wasn’t always too embarrassed to look you in the eye. Sometimes, when he would pull you into his chest, he would stare so deeply that the stage lights that already felt hot, began to feel much alike to the sun. 

Sometimes, you would hear the occasional baby crying in the crowd or the applause when Changmin would do that dip that you were so adamant on not doing, only for it to be one of your favorite parts to do, but other than that, all that resonated through your ears was the beating of your heart. Partly from exhilaration and partly for someone else. Him.

You hated him, but oh, you liked him so much. 

And when the ending came and he would pull you close while intertwining his fingers with yours, you allowed yourself to fall. Maybe not physically because that wouldn’t end well on the tall stage, but in some other way. A way that signaled to him to pull you so close and for him to lean down so that his lips hovered right over yours.

The music had already ended and the audience was clapping and whistling. Yet to you, it went silent. All you could hear was Changmin’s breathing against your lips and all you could see were his soft, loving eyes.

Slowly, you felt his hand let go of yours and for a second you thought that you might have gone too far. But then, you felt that same hand tighten around your waist, yanking you close enough that his bottom lip brushed against yours, sending shivers down your spine.

There were no words spoken but the two of you immediately got the message to close your eyes and… fall once again. You leaned forward, about to press your lips to his in which he hummed softly. But then, the curtain fell with a loud thump and you broke apart. Before you could say or do anything, you were being rushed out by the staff, with only a glimpse of the longing in his face.

Your hand came up to where the rose tucked in your hair and you pulled it out. You observed the red petals, twirling the stem of it until it broke apart in your hand. You liked the blue version better.

–

Your fingers lingered over your own lips, wondering what it would feel like if you had just leaned that tiny bit closer–wondered if he would kiss back. His warm breath that fanned over and his soft, soft gaze as his eyes wandered down came rushing back until your stomach was fluttering with butterflies all over again. 

“Y/n?” One of the staff poked her head in. “The curtain call’s in five.”

“Oh, right.” You abruptly stood up, smoothing down your outfit. Your hair was down now, rid of any clips and pins. The rose was long gone. 

She ushered you to the door. “You and your partner have a separate spotlight. Since… you know,” She laughed shyly. “Everyone just loved your performance.”

You froze. “They did?”

She looked at you like you were crazy before leading you down the hallway leading to the stage. “It’s all the crowd’s been talking about! The chemistry, the romance, the love… it was all so clear. How did you do it so naturally?”

Your breath hitched, unsure yourself. “I… I guess because it was real.”

She hummed, eyeing you teasingly before gesturing to the stage. You took in a deep breath, and walked to the center of the stage. It was dark–the curtains down with only the sound of the murmuring crowd. When you looked up, you could see Changmin approaching you, a warm smile on his lips.

As he stood next to you, his hand grasped yours and he nudged you with his shoulder.

“Nervous?” He joked.

You smiled shyly. “I am actually.”

“And why’s that?” He glanced at you with bright, sparkling eyes, even without the stage lights shining on the two of you.

“Because I’m with you. You make me nervous,” You whispered. His eyes widened slightly and his hand tightened on yours.

You could hear the countdown for the curtains to pull up, but you ignored it once Changmin had leaned closer.

“Listen,” He watched you cautiously. “What we did back there… did you mea–”

“Yes,” You rushed to say. 

Before he could respond, the curtains were rising up and again, the stage lights blared in your vision. Now, you could hear the loud cheers of the audience and you were filled with that exhilarating, heart-beating feeling all over again. When you turned to Changmin, you realized that he was staring back, a dazed look in his eyes.

With a squeeze of his hand, the two of you bowed, smiling brightly. You were about to let go of his hand to wave at the crowd when suddenly, you felt him tug on your hand, hard enough that you were pulled right against his chest.

He steadied you with a hand on your waist. And in the corner of your eye, you felt something being tucked behind your ear. You couldn’t see it but you knew exactly what it was. A blue rose.

He leaned in, just like before with his lips right in front of yours. You held back a smile as you looked up into his soft eyes.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, quiet enough so that only you could hear.

“Yes.” You spoke your loudest, over the growing cheers and applause from the crowd. “This is perfect.”

He smiled before pulling you in and pressing his lips against yours. For the third time that evening, you felt butterflies in your stomach as your eyes fluttered closed. You allowed yourself to finally and completely fall into the moment—into him, into his arms, and into his love as his grip on you tightened ever so slightly so that he could move his lips comfortably against yours. 

When you pulled away, eventually interrupted by the staff gesturing to you hurriedly when you peeked an eye open, you looked up at him before bursting out into a shy smile. The cheers were even louder now, which only caused Changmin to blush a pretty pink.

–

After being led off the stage and changed out of your outfits, the two of you met at the hallway that led to the exit–away from the spotlights. It was just you now, holding his hand, swinging it shyly as you occasionally stole glances at him. 

But just before you reached the door, he was turning you around and kissing you up against a wall. You allowed him to, feeling your heart beat erratically. But then again, that was a common thing now when with him.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for the longest time,” He muttered, breaking apart with flushed cheeks.

You smiled. “How long?”

“Ever since you gave me that playful smile when you called me a piece of shit that one time.” He grinned.

You burst out laughing. “That was so long ago,” You joked. “There’s no way you– you’re serious?” Now you were gaping at him.

He nodded shyly before hiding his face in your neck. “I loved your smile. I thought you were so beautiful when I first laid eyes on you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Can’t say I felt the same,” You muttered. “I actually despised you.”

He chuckled, pulling away to press another kiss to your lips. “Do you despise me now?”

You blushed. “No, I don–” You were cut off by another kiss and his adorable laugh. You grumbled, slapping him shyly. “I take it back. I still despise you.”

“And I’m in love with you,” He replied, playing with the rose tucked in your hair, a fond smile worn on his lips.

—

“What is this?” You giggled, approaching where he was sitting on the floor of the balcony, completely ignoring the chairs that were perfectly placed there for sitting.

You didn’t take into account that giving your boyfriend the code to your apartment door would lead to him breaking into it without permission. One time, you came home, completely exhausted from practice and he popped out of a corner to scare you for the fun of it. It ended in a lot of screams and slapping. But still, he apologized and took care of you for the rest of the evening.

The two of you did go your separate ways…in terms of dance of course. You went back to ballet and high expectations. But at least you had someone to listen to you—someone who always told you that you were doing amazing whether that be through whispered words or kisses and hugs.

He, on the other hand, continued to experiment through various dance styles. One of the recent ones that he learned was the art of tango, ironically enough. And yes, he often pressured you to practice with him. You hated to admit it, but whenever he “serenaded you with his body” (as wrong as it sounded, that’s literally what he said when he danced with you), you couldn’t help but flush slightly, especially when he would kiss you before twirling you.

All of your friends, Eric especially, were delighted to find out you were dating. According to them, you’ve been in love with him this whole time and vice versa. You couldn’t deny it.

Everyday, you fell more and more in love with him. Apart from his constant teasing, he was the sweetest boyfriend one could find. He supported you in all of your endeavors, pressing kisses all over your face while whispering “I’m so proud of you.” Even when you insisted that it was corny, you secretly loved it.

And just now, you walked in on him setting up a picnic on your own balcony. Candles were lit and it seemed that he even cooked for you.

He gave you an adorably warm smile.

“To celebrate your special solo performance coming up, I present to you a coupon for a free date with me.” He grinned, gesturing for you to sit down.

You laughed bashfully, kneeling down in front of him. Like usual, he greeted you with a kiss.

“Are you saying I have to pay for every other date?”

“My love is priceless.”

“Fine,” You huffed playfully. “Let’s break up.”

He gasped. “You would never.”

“You know I wouldn’t.” You scrunched your nose. He smiled in response, watching you silently. You began to grow shy, looking away to stare out at the city view. It was the evening, the street lights and the unfortunate view of small windows lit with overtime office workers twinkling. 

But you felt a gentle hand cupping the side of your face, guiding you to look back at him. Then, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he gazed at you affectionately.

“My beautiful,” He whispered, tilting his head.

Your heart thumped but you still found yourself frowning grumpily.

“Don’t call me that.”

His eyes widened slightly as he pouted. “Why not?”

“Last time you called me beautiful you said I was intolerable right after,” You grumbled.

He whined, slapping his hands over your cheeks to squish them playfully which in turn, caused you to yelp.

“You know I didn’t mean it,” He breathed. “How was I supposed to tell Juyeon that I had the biggest crush on you?”

You laughed loudly, smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt. The candles flickered before they blew out, leaving it dark enough that the only source of light was the moon.

“Then what would you like me to call you?” He asked. He glanced up at the night sky before smiling back down at you. “Moonlight?”

“Mmm…” You thought for a moment. And then you smiled shyly. “You can only call me moonlight when you feel the happiest and… the most in love.”

It took him a moment to register your words but then his eyes lit up. He scooted forward so that his lips lingered right over your forehead. And then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your skin.

“Moonlight,” He whispered.

“Oh,” You stuttered. He didn’t respond, instead, moving to press another kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Moonlight,” He muttered again, louder this time as his hand trailed down to caress your jaw.

You shut your eyes, suddenly overcome by the need to hide your face. But still, you felt his lips now hover over yours. He tilted your chin up, pulling you into the softest kiss you’ve ever experienced.

“My moonlight.”

You flushed pink, looking at him with wide eyes. “You—“

“I do feel the happiest and the most in love.” He smiled. “Right now.”

Immediately you were melting into his touch before gaining enough strength to lurch forward, throw your hands around his neck, and kiss him as much as you could. 

“Me too,” You giggled.

Even though you were expected to keep up that model image, you secretly enjoyed the beauty of letting that go for someone who saw you for who you were. He saw you without the practiced poses and faked smiles, instead choosing to love your random quirks and imperfect features.

He smiled, wrapping his arms around you.

“You are my Clair de lune.”

[copperbadge]

Hi, I have started a new office job! It's good, I like the people I work with and the work itself but it's sooo different from what I'm used to? I don't always feel I have enough to do, which is partly b/c of the time of year and cause I'm still new, only 30 days, but is this normal-ish? I am trying to be self directed and going thru my responsibilities but somedays, there's just not a lot? Have you ever found that in any of your jobs?

Yeah, a lot of office jobs are like this -- mine have almost all had a great deal of empty space in them. It's not universal for sure, but it's not at all unusual. The only time I've had an office job where I really didn't have any time free during the average week was right at the end of my last job when we were heavily downstaffed and I was doing about three peoples' worth of jobs. Even then, my schedule had some flex to it.

Especially as a newbie you're going to have a lot of downtime because people are giving you time to settle in, or they're trying to work out what they can assign to you, or they're waiting until you're fully trained to start assigning you more responsibility. And you may have less work at this time of year because a lot of people are out of office or for other reasons (this is actually a busy time for me and my crew, because we get a lot of end-of-year donations, but a ton of nonprofit work is backwards to the rhythms of normal for-profit office work).

I recommend never, ever telling anyone at work that you are not busy, however. For one, most people in any given office know that we aren't working at 100% for 100% of the time, because if we were we'd all be exhausted. Two, it means you'll be given more work. :D Which, okay, some of that is "Why work when you don't have to" but some of it is also that it is GOOD to have slack built into your schedule. It means you can ramp up when needed, and also that you get periods of brain rest, and also that you have time to work on independent projects should you wish, whether those are for work or, say, fanfic. I actually at this point tend to lower expectations by waiting to submit work -- I'll finish a project a day early and submit it the day it's due regardless.

In one job, I had to process documents being converted from PDF to Word, then pass them on to our proofer; he could only proof about four documents a day, but I could process about 20. So on Monday I'd process all 20 documents, and send him four of them -- and the rest of the week I'd send him four a day, and write fanfic for hours on end. Occasionally they gave me other jobs to do, but at that job I was essentially paid full time to work one day a week and show up to do nothing the other four.

The average office worker only works four hours a day. In some jobs I've literally booked out those four hours and fucked around the rest of the time. When I needed to, I'd break into Fuck Around Time in order to do more work, but otherwise -- they're paying me for results, not for sweat. As a front-desk receptionist it was baked in, actually; they said to me "There's going to be long periods of time where you are doing nothing. Your job at those times is to entertain yourself in ways that don't make it look like you're goofing off if someone important walks in." I wrote a lot of fanfic and novels, read a lot of books, did a shitload of origami. I loved that job; if it paid better I probably never would have left it.

Eventually, too, you will learn the rhythms of your job and workplace, and figure out when you're most likely to have empty time, so that you can build around it. For instance, on Fridays I get a data document that I have to evaluate and present to my colleagues the following Wednesday. Friday and Monday are therefore my busy days; Tuesday and Wednesday are for work I might have put off during the busy days. Thursday is generally just an open day; I can do long-term work projects, or I can spend the whole day dicking around. If a rush job comes in, I can push work into Thursday to get the rush job done, regardless of when it arrives.

In any case, you have a couple of options for continuing to look busy even when you aren't. If you can read on a computer screen, queue up some books or fanfic (be careful what you access on company internet, of course; I have more free range than most and am not monitored because my job is researched-based and I have to go to some weird shit places). Read newspapers you might have access to, or work on your own writing/creative endeavors on cloud-based apps. A couple of times a year I'd dedicate the empty space in a week to going through old files and organizing them, or cleaning out my email inboxes.

You can also, if you desire, work on independent projects for your actual employer. In my spare time I've built several tools to make my life easier, some of which I've shown to my bosses to impress them. Some just make my work go faster and my bosses don't know that, and don't have to. Again: they are paying for results, not for me to sit there like a booby doing work I don't have to do. If there are ways to streamline processes, you can use the time to think about implementing them (although ask other people they may impact, first). The other day I was giving a mailing list one last scroll-through before sending it to my boss, and idly realized there was a fantastic opportunity to do a little data visualization, so I whipped that up and added it to the email I was sending, like "Hey I also noticed this, see what you think."

For a while, in my last job, I had enough lee time in my schedule that most days I could work my second job as a transcriptionist while at my primary job. That can get perilous and I don't recommend it, but it can be done...

Anyway, be at ease, this is supposed to be the case and it's a great bonus when it actually does happen :D Do your work competently and efficiently and don't worry too much about the empty spots, just take breaks and keep yourself entertained.

[prettyrealm]

billie eilish mini personality reading

positives + negatives

+ positives

extremely compassionate (this came up in MANY cards), she may be very serious about issues like racism/sexism/homophobia etc and tries to advocate for these different causes (i honestly can even see her having a secret social media account where she argues with people about these things or just posts about it a lot) overall, she’s not afraid to take action in this area, imaginative and creative mind that can see the beauty in many things others may not (may have unconventional taste because of this), she’s introspective and genuinely tries to reflect on and learn from her mistakes, extremely charming, charismatic and romantic. very generous, loyal, fair and a source of not only inspiration, but emotional support for those around her , she can be pretty chill and serene (i get that if you hangout with her she might have a super mellow stoner-ish vibe), bold and a quiet, yet dominant personality, she doesn’t seem like the type of celebrity to misuse her power or mistreat others to be honest. she seems pretty grounded despite her position. i also get the vibe that she was sort of like meant to be famous.. like destined for some sort of power/leadership and that she will use it well.

- negatives

extremely co-dependent on others and needs a lot of approval and validation, stays in bad relationships/friendships for way too long and holds onto them (mentally) even after they’ve ended, very controlling in personal relationships, exaggerates her experiences (or even appearance) for the sake of her art and can over do it (for ex. having to create some sort of dramatic story to explain why she did something to make herself look a certain way when it isn’t necessary), always trying to move on and reinvent herself rather than processing and evaluating things (she may change up her look/style or take up new hobbies to distract herself), arrogant, self destructive, very rebellious, falls victim to peer pressure easily (i think she’s very easily manipulated and pressured by men as well), she can be very stuck in the past and give up easily.

[ownworldresident]

Side by Side Chapter 6: Parent or Guardian

Book: The Royal Romance. Premise: With new additions to their family, King Liam and Rayne are forced to re-evaluate their relationship dynamic. Themes: Found family, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, family. Word Count: 3.2k (ish) per chapter, 18 chapters. 57k. Note: This story started just after TRR3 ended, and has no association with TRH. Side by Side Masterlist Link and Master Masterlist Link

Rayne

Rayne tensed as cold swelled at her core, knuckles whitening on the doorknob she still clutched. Her mind raced with questions but for now only one applied.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she spat, surprise giving way to anger. Genevieve had the gall to look affronted.

“It was a long flight, Ray.” She made as if to enter the room. Rayne stood firm, feet apart, blocking the way.

“No one asked you to come.”

“But I haven’t met your family. Is that your partner?” She looked over Rayne’s shoulder toward Drake.

“Kham, what..?” Drake asked, confused, as Rayne glanced briefly at him.

“He isn’t my partner, and if you cared you would know that.”

“I know about your children,” she said, “don’t I at least get to see them?”

Rayne scoffed, unmoving. “I thought they were just pawns in your game.” Her voice was cold. “I don’t care what you claim, you haven’t earned that right.”

Genevieve frowned, but didn’t protest again. Rayne could feel Drake’s discomfort. She recomposed herself, reminded her instinct driven self that there was no real threat, and stood aside. Immediately the woman came into the suite, and Rayne eyed her coldly.

“And who is this gentleman, then?” It was just like her to fawn over younger men. Taking a deep breath, Rayne reminded herself that even though there was nothing there now, she had loved her once.

“This is my friend, Drake. Drake, this is Genevieve O’Mara. My mother.”

Drake knew who her mother was, everyone did, but he hid his shock well and extended a hand.

“Nice to meet you, Ms O’Mara.” He glanced at Rayne for some indication of how he should react and she nodded slightly. Her mother had caused a lot of grief for Rayne and Cordonia, much of it recently, but hostility wouldn’t get answers.

“So wonderful to meet you,” Genevieve said. “And call me Gen, please. I’ve heard such good things about Rayne’s new friends.” She turned back to Rayne, who betrayed none of the bitterness she felt. Most of her efforts in concealing anger were reserved for Madeleine and her ploys, but she could spare some for this monster.

“So when do I get to meet my beautiful little grandchildren?”

“You don’t, and you haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?”

Genevieve looked almost believably hurt as she removed her coat and placed it over the back of one of the lounge chairs.

“Well, I never received an invitation from my daughter. I had thought you would wish me to meet your new family, especially considering you named one after me.”

Rayne stared at her. “I did invite you” she said, incredulous, “months ago. I invited you by email, message, and letter, to visit so I could show you my home. You never responded, but I know that you got that correspondence, because you used it to stab me in the back.”

The room quieted. That had been the end of her relationship with her mother. Nothing could repair that public damage. Genevieve bit her lip and tried a different tact.

“Baby I was so busy. I wanted to come but I couldn’t afford to leave work at that time and—”

“Drake can you leave us please?” Rayne cut her off, looking to her friend. She tried to communicate without words that she could handle her mother alone. A few moments later, though clearly uncertain, he nodded.

“Of course.” He smiled at Genevieve, then started toward the door, pausing beside Rayne. “Call me if you need.” He muttered, then squeezed her shoulder gently and left.

As soon as Drake was gone and the door was closed her mother’s smile vanished, and she looked Rayne straight in the eyes. This was the mother who had missed her own son’s funeral and ignored every attempt to contact her. Had ignored Rayne since she left for Cordonia, had publicly disapproved of her remaining here, had damaged Liam’s reputation for weeks and almost driven Rayne out of the country as a result. It had been one of the hardest things she and Liam had been through.

This was the woman who, despite everything, she wanted to trust.

“We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you, mother.” But she did. As irrational as it seemed, Rayne still wanted to forgive her for everything she had, and hadn’t, done. She wanted her mother in her life, but Genevieve was a stranger to her now. Naming her daughter after her had been one way to hold on to the memory of a time when her mother had been there for her and Warner. Evelyn’s name along with Leo’s had been publicly displayed in newspapers all over the world, along with a picture of the four of them outside the hospital. Still, her mother had done nothing.

“You need to hear this.”

“Unless it is an apology for twenty years of neglect and injury, you need to leave.”

They stared at each other, but no apology was forthcoming.

“I think you are in danger, Ray.”

She laughed. “Wrong answer.”

Genevieve sighed. “I only ever wanted what is best for you.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it You only ever wanted what was best for you.” She took a step forward. “You have done an excellent job of losing your credibility and my trust. If you wanted what was best for me, then you would respect my decisions, and would try to show you cared.” Her voice shook, and her hands trembled, and she hated it.

“I do care.” Genevieve’s voice quieted. “You are my only daughter. My only child.”

“Because you weren’t there for him!” Rayne shouted, tears suddenly stinging her eyes. That hole in her heart was old, but it was still raw. “You have no one to blame but your own inaction.”

“And I will regret that for the rest of my life.” Genevieve said with halting breaths. The expression might be construed as remorse, but Rayne knew her better than that. Her career revolved around lies and manipulation, and Rayne wouldn’t be fooled by acting. “I will not lose my daughter, too. I came to warn you.”

“To threaten me you mean? To take advantage of me? To use my position to one for yourself? To say again, what was it, that I must be embarrassed to be having the king’s child, and that would be the only reason I was confined to the palace. To avoid scrutiny from Cordonians? There is nothing you can say that isn’t for your own advantage, Genevieve, so take your warning and leave. Leave the palace, leave Cordonia, go home, and don’t come back.”

Even as she said it, her whole body shaking, she wished she hadn’t. If there were some way for Genevieve to redeem herself, she would have to be here to do so.

“You need to listen to me. I think your life is in danger. I can help you, if you listen to me. We can work together.”

“Get out,” she said, voice venomous.

“Rayne, you—”

“Get out!” she yelled, breathing hard, and regretting her volume. Sure enough, the baby monitor on the coffee table started up, and she recognised Evelyn’s cry. Genevieve’s expression softened.

“Is… is that…”

“Nothing to you,” Rayne stated coldly, moving between her mother and the hall leading to the nursery.

“I can help.”

Rayne nearly laughed. “In no way have you the right to presume I would want or need your help.” She stepped forward, not taking her eyes off the woman. “And you have no right to intrude on my life after years and assume you’re forgiven.”

Genevieve glanced at the door to the hall, where Evelyn’s cries continued. When she said nothing, Rayne spoke again.

“You will leave, you will stay away from my family, and you will never come back. Do you understand me?” The last words caught in her throat but she didn’t falter in her resolve. Genevieve watched her for a time, with Rayne wanting desperately to go to her daughter before Leo was roused.

“Yes.” Visibly Genevieve deflated, looking years older than when she had arrived, and collected her things. “I raised my daughter to be strong,” she said as she reached the door and turned back. There was sorrow in her eyes, but also pride, and Rayne hated that.

“I am not your daughter,” she said, a slight tremble in her voice. They locked eyes for one tense moment, then Genevieve nodded, and left. Gone, but still much too close.

Rayne made it to the hall but fell, shaking, back against the wall, cheeks hot and wet as she slid to the ground and tried to steady her breathing.

Leo started crying, adding to the calls of his sister. She pulled herself up, breathed deep, wiped away her tears, and went to them.

Liam

Taking a break from his workload, Liam opened a bookmarked folder on his laptop and pulled a different notebook from a drawer in his desk. The following Monday marked one month since Evie and Leo were born, and though Rayne might not think it significant, he wanted to do something nice for her. It was something he had been thinking about for a while.

His assistant delivered a fresh cup of coffee like clockwork, but his current task had him so excited that the fatigue barely registered.

The palace, though accommodating and grand, held some danger of interruption and some less than wonderful memories. It was home to him and his family, but for Rayne he wanted to go somewhere new. Hopefully she would be as enthused as he was to take a few hours for themselves, even though it would be the first time she had left the children. Already he had asked Drake and Olivia to look after them while, Drake’s sister was several years younger than him and he had cared for Savannah before. At some point Liam hoped to get his old nanny to look after the twins occasionally to give Rayne a little more freedom. That would take some time to warm her up to the idea.

When someone knocked on the door he put his notepad away quickly, anticipating Madeline. He called for the visitor to enter and Drake walked in, scowling.

“Drake?”

“You need to go to Rayne,” he said after a few moments of apparent indecision, running his fingers through his hair. Liam stood.

“Is something wrong?”

Nothing in Drake’s body language suggested disaster, but Liam’s chest tightened anyway and he moved around the desk.

“She said she would be fine… I should have stayed anyway.”

“What are you talking about?” Liam’s heart beat a little faster. “What happened?”

Drake looked up darkly.

“Genevieve is here.”

No further explanation was necessary. Liam sprinted from his office to Rayne’s apartments and burst in, heart racing, to find the front room empty.

“Rayne?” he ventured cautiously, with no answer. It appeared Genevieve was gone, unless she had forced through somehow. At this point Liam didn’t doubt what that woman was capable of. Closing the door, he moved further into the room, but still made out no sound even as his heart stopped pounding in his ears. No one was in the hall, or in the nursery when he peeked inside save for his children. When he approached the main bedroom, her heard her, and his heart sank. He stepped inside.

She sat on the chest at the end of the bed with her body curled forward and trembling with soft tears. Despite her height, only in these moments, with her face in her hands and shoulders slumped, did Rayne seem small.

“Rayne?” he asked as he stepped in and closed the door. She flinched and looked up, sniffing and wiping tears from red eyes.

“Li-“ she sniffed, “Liam.” Even as he watched, Rayne tried to mask her pain with a long perfected stoicism.

“Don’t,” Liam said, coming forward to kneel before her and taking her hand. He pushed loosed hair out of her eyes. “Please don’t,” his words became a plea, and after a moment meeting his gaze, she nodded.

As soon as he sat beside her she collapsed into his embrace, shaking as she cried fresh tears. Liam felt a deep ache in his chest to see and feel her in pain, but as hard as it was to see, he new this was only a much needed expression of Rayne’s internalised pain.

“I’m - so - sorry - Liam,” she choked, voice muffled against him.

“No,” he said firmly, “never apologise.” He held her closer, a lump rising painfully in his throat. “Never apologise for anything,” his voice cracked, and hot tears tracked from his own eyes. He had so much to apologise to Rayne for, so many times he should have done better, had failed her, and was still failing her.

Liam ran his fingers through Rayne’s hair, holding her secure against him and rocking gently. He wanted so badly for her to stop hurting, but until she let him in, he didn’t know how. And that tore at him.

“I love you so much, Rayne.” His voice shook as he whispered, resting his cheek against the top of her head and closing his eyes. “So, so much…”

Drake

“Fuck!” Drake slammed the door behind him and drove his foot against the bedpost and that hurt. Good. He should hurt. Two years now he had stood by and watched two of the best people he knew breaking piece by piece by the situation they refused to rectify, until he could hardly recognise the Liam and Rayne the day they met each other.

He knew Rayne too well to be fooled by the mask over her pain, and Liam expressed his pain openly to Drake, for all the good that did. There had to be something…

“If you’re planning on breaking something, do it in Maxwell’s room.” A bemused voice came from his now open door and he spun, still scowling, to face the intruder.

“What do you want,” he growled, running his fingers through his hair. He did want to break something - it was one of the only outlets he had for this frustration.

“Our appointment?” She raised a brow, leaning on the door frame.

“Sorry.”

“Mm. Who is it this time?” she asked, coming inside and closing the door before. “Liam or Rayne?”

“What?” His anger began to subside as he watched her take up one of her stiletto knives stored last time she was here.

“Please, Drake, use some sense. Those two idiots are the only ones who can get this reaction from you.” She leant back against the dresser, twirling her favourite knife and watching the light reflect on the blade. “So which is it?”

Drake breathed a long sigh, feeling the initial rush of frustration slowly leaving him. He collapsed on his bed and ran a hand over his mouth.

“Both.”

“Mhm.” Olivia nodded. “So are you going to do anything this time? Or just mope about like their stupidity is a personal attack on you?”

“What am I supposed to do, Liv?” Drake stared at her, at a loss. “I had another discussion with Rayne an hour ago and again she told me she was fine. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

“Mhm.” She tapped her knife against her palm, then rested it back on the dresser and folded her arms. “Maybe you shouldn’t be the one talking to her.”

“What? She won’t hear you, or Max or Leo. She’s on permanent defence mode. No one can break it.”

“For christ’s sake, Walker. You’ve been moaning for months and we’ve been over this. Liam refuses to do anything, Rayne refuses to even listen. No one is considering poor Drake Walker’s precious feelings.” She rolled her eyes as he frowned. “I’m saying it’s past time you put aside your ego and actually called someone else to help.”

“I can’t go behind her back, Liv… she’d never forgive me.”

Olivia scowled, stepped forward and hit the back of his head before he could react.

“Hey!” He rubbed his head as she returned to the dresser. “What was that for?”

“This isn’t about you, Walker! You found her details weeks ago so grow a fucking pair and call her. Get backup. Use your brain for once in your life.”

He considered her words, grinding his teeth and rubbing the back of his head. Her points were difficult to argue with.

“Fine. I’ll send her a ticket.”

---- ----

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[okayyeros]

So if this is too personal please disregard this ask but I saw in a recent post that you're on the AroAcespec. I was just curious about your experience worshiping/being devoted to Eros being on that spectrum?

I have started worshipping Eros, but it's mainly just saying hello every once in awhile as I heavily worship his wife, Psyche. I do want to get closer to him but I think I have some sort of mental block about it? It's probably multiple things but I'm realizing it might be mostly because I consider myself on the ace spectrum as well. Not that I feel ashamed or think Eros would dislike that part of me but when I start thinking about it a lot I just get super in my head about it.

Its not too personal at all! I have been worshipping Eros I think since like 2020 (?) ish??? Honestly the passing of time is super blurry for me, and it was before I realized what I was doing was actually hellenism!

But anyways, I'm not someone who is explicitly sex repulsed. My relationship with Eros and with Sexuality has been tied to my image of self-expression. I grew up doing theatre, and one of the few times I felt empowered and confident was when doing roles that were more sexual in nature. There was something so comforting about being able to take control of my sexual image and turn it into what I wanted. That I'm in control of my own sexuality, and no one else can take that from me.

I think its because for a long time I didn't know that how I related to sexual and romantic love was just being AroAcespc (funnily enough the friend who told me I was most likely pagan was also the one who told me i was aroace LMAO) but nonetheless, I found comfort in the control sexuality could bring me. Eros was also a God I had discovered in the midst of major trauma related to theatre, and his stories gave me some semblance of control back. To me, He is a god of sexual love, but there is so much more that encompasses it. It's loving yourself and your own sexual experiences. It's feeling comfortable in your sexuality whether you enjoy sex or not. It's loving someone so deeply that you can trust them with everything you are.

The concept of love is something I've worked heavily with for the past few years (I plan on doing my senior art thesis on it!) and its so deeply personal for each person. I think evaluating your relationship with your own sexual orientation and trying to find comfort and power within it could also possibly help you connect to Eros more! In some interpretations, Eros is a patron of homosexuality, which is something I think a lot about!

Idk if this helps you but I hope it does!!!! It definitely takes time, and remember nothing is linear! <3<3

[luna-is-lost]

UNDERWELCOMED

CHAPTER 13

Sir POV:

A fleet of great men and women lost in a signal day…

15 of our best hounds lost; 5 no longer able to serve…

All because of him…

So, “WHY WAS I SPARED!”

I scream staring into the mirror, which shatters as my fist collides with it, knowing we need to get him back…

Sans’ POV:

…This is probably fine…

Papyrus is lying unconscious on Snowdin’s floor, Flowey is most likely watching still, and I have no clue what to do now that Pap remembers.

‘Maybe start with healing that crack in his skull’ Yelled the analytical part of my brain, but I was still frozen in shock.

After a few seconds I gather my self and begin to evaluate the situation. Papyrus looks okay, provided the exception of the small crack in his skull (it could be easily healed, Papyrus had always been stronger than him), a few marks from the thorns of Flowey’s vines, and a small fracture in his left arm… Papyrus will be fine. Papyrus is ALWAYS fine, he has to be… ‘Cause I’m not sure how to do this without him… He’s my little brother, so I’ll do what’s needed to protect him. That’s my duty, always has been.

I gather Papyrus the best I can into an almost hug and prepare to teleport… I’m going to feel horrible tomorrow with all this used magic, but Papyrus is worth it. He’s always worth it.

Undyne’s POV:

A bright blue flash appears and out comes the silhouette of the skeleton brothers. “Sans? Where were you…?” My question is lost to the wind as Papyrus drops from the arms of a dizzy-looking Sans. I run up to them and throw Papyrus over my shoulder (rather easily I might add) as I grab Sans’ shoulders to help him steady out. “ ran into a certain flower that really makes my anger ‘bloom’. heh… oh… and pap needs some help with…” He trails off as he gestures to the rather pained skeleton on my shoulder (who happens to be my best friend, and if I find who did this I WILL TAKE REVENGE), looking kinda sad. “Let’s get HIM healed and YOU some food, not to be rude, but you look awful.” I chuckle as I (not so) gently lay Pap on a floor mat, and apologize to said sleeping skeleton when he winces. “yeah… prob’ly for the best…” Sans yawns as he walks to the kitchen-ish area, though it isn’t much. One day, when the humans accept us, we can have the wonderful thing the surface offers, but for now, we need to work to get our prize. We WILL Win. We have to… I am DETERMINED to make it work.

“Papyrus?” I nudge my friend in an attempt to wake him up. It’s weird to think that not long ago I had no idea he was capable of doing that, but I feel more and more like Papyrus is part of something MUCH bigger than anyone thought… Maybe he is…

“…owie…” Papyrus’ broken voice responds. “Can you eat something so you can heal?” “Mmhm…” He sits himself up with a tired groan and a worried look on his face. “I-Is… Sans A-Alright?…” As if he was called on, Sans appears right next to Papyrus. With another yawn; seriously, how tried can one monster be? He hands him some sort of canned fruit and a piece of monster candy, before settling down next to him, leaning against his brother’s shoulder for support. “Okay, NOW, tell me what happened!” “really it was nothin’ “ Sans gives me no helpful information while Papyrus shivers and grips his skull painfully. “Are you okay Papyrus!?/you okay paps!?” Sans and I ask him simultaneously. His eye sockets are wide as he repeats, “I R-Remember…” “WHAT EXACTLY DOES HE REMEMBER?!” I yell out but Sans is already falling asleep… What happened…

Sir’s POV:

The tracking device on the giant skeletal monster was going haywire earlier. Appearing from an undisclosed location to Mt. Ebbot in seconds… That should be physically impossible… Maybe monsters are more powerful than we thought. Even Papyrus rose high in military ranks swiftly. Actually, he did in three weeks what take humans 25 years… He became a general… If Papyrus and his race are similar, there’s no way we can win this… They’re to powerful to destroy. So not only is our government’s power and the country’s military strength in danger, but they could easily overpower or destroy us. Destroy everything… There would be nothing we could say or do. They’d win… Unless…

…we destroyed their order…

…we destroyed their king…

Papyrus’ POV:

Sans… The King… Undyne… The Royal Guard… The Web Of Lies… Muffet… The Machine… The Army… The Underground… Humans… SOULS… The Human Frisk… Death… Resets… Timelines… Flowey… Manipulation… Loneliness… Forgettable… Useless… Dust… …👎︎☼︎📬︎ ☝︎♋︎⬧︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎…

How do flowers talk. Why did he hide. Why did she lie? Why didn’t they live? Can I trust him? Did he mean to? Why did he disappear? Will the world go back? How can silence scream? Why does it hurt…

I wanted them back. I wanted to remember… But the memories bring more questions, bring more pain. I wanted this… WHY DOES IT HURT SO MUCH! … I just wanted to remember… It hurts… Why?…

I feel tears stream down my face as I begin to shake… Why does it have to hurt?… I don’t think I like this very much…

“U-Undyne…?” I catch the captain’s attention in a second. “Papyrus! Are you alright?!” “I T-Think?…” I try to sit up, but Undyne shakes her head in disapproval as she sits next to me. “So… uh… are you feeling any better?” “A l-little?…” She smiles and compliments my strength. “If you’re feeling up to it, could you tell me what you remember?” “E-Everything… M-My Childhood, The Royal Guard, The Base I W-Was Kept At… You and S-Sans and Everyone Else T-Too…” She looks shocked for a moment then she just smiles. … The Human… “Papyrus? Is something wrong?” “No… J-Just… I M-Miss My Friend…” She looks down sadly. “Yeah, a lot of monsters are missing or dus- on vacation” “I…” I sigh. What’s the point of talking about the human if it will make Undyne sad? My friends deserve the world, my brother does too, despite being lazy and slightly self deprecative… “Undyne” “Yeah?” “I T-Think Everything Is Going T-To Be Alright, We J-Just Need To Believe!” Right?…

CHAPTER 14 COMING SOON-ISH

[utilitycaster]

So I wanted to cover that bit about the "not everyone gets the same amount of Christmas presents" that I mentioned here. The original quote from the EXU Calamity Wrap-up is:

"I didn't want it to be like Christmas where it's like, 'Everyone gets the same amount of presents.' (...) There's some people in this Brass Ring that are up to an asymmetrical amount of shady shit and that's realistic and that's going to create fun dynamics."

I think with actual play, there can be this artificial expectation that every does get the exact same amount of presents - focus, plot, items, etc - that we don't have as much for scripted works. Some of that is that in D&D, a few of these things are objectively quantifiable and some aren't and people struggle to evaluate equivalence (my endless struggle to get people to understand that the fact that some sorcerers get more spells is not game-breaking or unfair is indicative of this). Some is also that I think people take their own experience of playing D&D, in which you are deeply attached to your character and often see them as the main character of their story, and struggle with their favorite PC not being obviously the main character of the story on screen.

Critical Role gets this more than other shows, and I think some of it is that most other shows either have significantly smaller (3-4 people) parties or in the case of D20 are often more heavily plot-driven. Critical Role is also alone among the more popular shows in its lack of editing, so if one player is in focus, there's no way to condense all the little hems and haws and backtracking that is typical in D&D and so the plot focus seems longer. Its particularly long runtime means that a ten-episode arc focused on a character you're less invested in will take 3-4 months in real-time and 40-ish hours to watch. And finally, I think Critical Role's fandom has groups of people with pronounced preferences for certain actors that at least to me have little to do with acting/d&d skill or recurrent themes explored, and I have not seen this phenomenon elsewhere.

Getting to the actual topic though: the fact is, different characters require different stories! I think a prime example is Fjord having a particularly cool sword; he is a hexblade, and having a sword is a fundamental part of that class and serves as a symbol of the source of his powers, and on top of that he grew up having very little and so the possession of a special material item is meaningful to him in a way it wouldn't be to (for example) Beau, whose story is much more about overcoming the self-hatred she learned from her father's abuse; finding a position in the world she loves and in which she can excel; and in finding family in the Mighty Nein, in the Cobalt Soul, and with Yasha. Percy's story is deeply tied to a particular location and enemy such that it belongs in a self-contained arc with largely background development afterwards; Vex's story is a highly internalized one of constant slow progress with notable and consistent beats but no specific clearly defined arc throughout the entire campaign; and Keyleth's arc is a mix of concrete trials and ongoing personal growth. Or, going back to Brennan's original statement, Patia, Nydas, and Laerryn have background information that isn't present for the rest of the party because that's the story being told! It doesn't mean that Zerxus, Loquatius, and Cerrit don't have compelling backstories; it means that they are differently positioned within the city and the story and have their own specialized knowledge. In fact, giving these characters the knowledge that Patia, Nydas, and Laerryn had would significantly change the intent of those characters from what the players had planned.

Which is in fact another part of this issue: overall, I think most characters get a decent number of "christmas presents", but sometimes the fandom response goes further not just to quantity but also a belief that everyone should get the exact same things, too. I still recall people asking me about TLOVM and whether Vex and Keyleth had comparable screentime with each other, or if they had comparable screentime with the men in the story. These remain among the more baffling questions I've gotten - and I've gotten some weird ones - because it's such a profound lack of understanding how stories work. One would hope that all D&D characters get the same amount of development overall, but that does not necessarily mean the same amount of screen time.

Anyway: the questions to ask are not "who gets the most presents" because most people aren't great at defining what a "present" is or which presents are equivalent in the first place; it's "is this character getting developed in the story in a way that makes sense, and is the plot compelling to other characters around them even if it is for the moment centered on them."

[fulfillingbineeds]

Misfits Series One Timeline

The first seasons timeline makes the most sense and the easiest to map out... the other seasons, on the other hand, get messy and make little to no sense. So send regards to my future self for having to figure it out lol

(BTW, this timeline will only contain events from AFTER Curtis's timeline fix from 1x4)  

PRE COMMUNITY SERVICE:

Curtis, Nathan, and Simon all get arrested the same night. Curtis was arrested in the club, Nathan at the bowling alley, and Simon presumably later that night. Kelly is presumed to have been arrested a few days later, and in Alisha's case, it's either the same as Kelly or she was arrested the same day as the boys were. The exact date of their arrest wasn't stated within the series or the extra content, but it was likely during early September.

In the Girl Talk video on Simon's official YouTube channel, he shows his physiological assessment, which shows the date the evaluation was done. It's pretty blurry, but it looks like it says 14/9. (The 14th of September.) It may be a four instead of a nine, but in Simon's conversation with Sally in 1x5, he says his arrest was a few months ago. So we can cross their arrests taking place in April off the list. While the 14 could literally be any other number in the teens, hell, sometimes I see a 16 instead. (I suggest watching the video for yourself to decide.) That aside, we at least know Simon's physiological assessment was done during the third week of September 2009. This means he likely got out of the unit the same day or a few days after the evaluation was done. (I personally believe he was in the unit for only a week-ish, but others have different opinions on the matter.)

(This was one of the best screenshots I could have gotten... it’s pretty awful lol)

COMMUNITY SERVICE:

I made a lil timetable :)

I plan on doing series two but it would be more of a theory timeline versus a realistic one. (Cause the writers really fucked it up)  

[otakebi-cam-wao]

produce 101 ep 4 - from a harowota (thoughts in real time)

Okay so i guess just the teams

Hype Boy

HypEST

Kokona says they mixed acting in it

Fuka's group now!!! (second group shown)

Fuka's cute

oh right this group has Koto in it

Rinon stands more says Yumeki, on the other side Yuuki doesn't stand at all...

Yuuki tells Nakasone she doesn't know how to express the song, flashbacks to the audition mainly and solo part choosing

I want Nakasone as life coach and to teach me how to dance with what she told, not only for Yuuki, but mainly

Rinon has what usually happens to me, i run some lines, sometimes

Kokona has no confidence to be center...

Kokona started to cry on rehearsal w Yumeki but the rest literally told her she can do it, they're SO SWEET

I trust this group more

friends intro with selfie?

uuuuu Koto!

Everyone at the moment

this group is wearing more jeans lol

awww Fuka

who was the blonde here? nice nice

Fuka speeded up a bit

Koto being cool while Kokona freezed in cute

cute Kokona tbh

nice nice, but sometimes they speeded up says Yumeki

cute tho

Yuuki nice

Kokuhaku kenkyuusei? (CONFESSION TRAINEES)

Runa reveals they sand in korean appear

shown first!!!

so this is true

Arisa studies korean as hobby, Natsuho says she can read hangul, Airi says sometimes she understands meanings

Runa felt anxious while rehearsals okay

Lee Hongi? tells Runa to practice pronunciation makes sense, one of the reasons i'm not into kpop (like the #100) is that the pronunciation is so weird for me as spanish speaker

Nakasone says good ideas colliding with emotions to make others understand okay okay

Natsuho suggest to add ballet, interesting

Yumeki is a sweetheart with them in the general rehearsal

Hongi says Aiko voice is nice

Performance

In line is cute intro from them

Emi? with intensity in the intro

wow their coreo arrangement (i guess) is nice with the ballet-ish moves in between

cute performance, i agree with EVERYONE

Natsuho ballet is the best

dunno if the other team is better yet, but i don't think they win as team in vs, but! i agree with Nakasone, feels fresh

Comments

Airi (group 2) said they choosed characters for each one

Points time!

let's see this!!!

Koto 31 Natsuho 5, i mean Koto is class A, but she is also so cool at dancing

noooo Fuka 3 Aiko 13 (i like Fuka she cute and soft and funny)

Aki (Blonde!) 10 Emi 45 now i really wonder who will win

Rinon 61 Arisa 3 wow (Arisa felt a bit discouraged as couldn't find anyone with a sign w her name, sad)

Yuuki 64 and Runa 35, so group 1 or 2?

Kokona 84 Airi 37, yeah group 1 won, i knew it withouth seeing them perform, sadly

FIESTA

random fact i say "i zone" but is like "ice(?) one"? "easy one" makes more sense in my mind, but okay (also, i didn't follow them nor P48)

ONever

I see gyaru!

apparently group had it hard vocally...?

lotta dancers here (w experience)

this are the tone deaf ones? i'll oshi Yurara? (i must oshi a tone deaf girl)

Sakura (gyaru) also tone deaf

Miyu saves w singing? i hope

Ah Tsuzumi helps for their last day of rehearsals!

the gyaru has nice voice, but she cant (as most of her group) hit the right notes

poor tone deaf girls!, i swear i hope Miyu saves it, this is a dance team...

i hope the best for them now

well nice dancing ofc, and charisma

Gyaru went out of tone badly on her solos

Rena also went a bit out

I'm Tsuzumi yelling "Rena kawaii yo"

Miyu's killing, yeah, she's saving this group

Yurara looks cool cute

damn, the vocal senseis are complexed rn

dance senseis seem nice w dance

NON blink

the 'murican!

oh here's the ex-HKT48 Rimika.... i don't trust her... (not as harowota, as someone who felt iiiiiii whit her re-evaluation video)

I trust Jueri, nice Jueri leader

oh, Jueri is changing the choreo they have?

Rimika got hit by Nakasone words

WAIT HERE IS THE OTHER BBY TAKAHASHI... eh... Hina?

hmmm Rimika troubles in many things apparently (everything in the show must be hitting her HKT48 former idol pride...?)

fake self confidence revealed, also the reason of her isolation (not wanting to be in the group apparently)

awww Jueri

Nakasone is so nice!!!! this is like group therapy

LET'S GOOOO

Ameli looks so cool cute

awww Hina!!!!

wait Hina is main vocal?! nice

Rimika is center then

Jueri deserves a lower pitched song or lines at least

ahhhh Jueri's voice hurted me as it broke a bit

Ameli reminds me a bit of my dear crazy english speaker Arisawa Ichika... this is random thought

winners i think

POINTS

Rena 2 Jueri 6 (sad for both)

Miyu 22 Ameli 10

Sakura 28 Honoka 68

Rio 2 Yuka 71 this is a big gap, so sad for rio

Yurara 26 Rimika 64, undestandable tbh, i think, i still like Yurara cute cool more tho

Riro 4 HINA BBY 82 OH MY GOD, well done bby, deserved it, i even forgot Riro was main vocalist here

CHEER UP

Love Potion

Karen looked for cute girls

ah this one has the twins! she definitely wants cute

wanted the song cuz cute lyrics

everyone except Maho (leader) wanted to center

Riko center (i thought it)

Sakura cant talk cuz scared as a C class girl

she felt bad and stopped practice and they became a mess, sad

complex communication here (twins afraid to talk as they're not close to the rest)

they bring it up a nioce atmosphere when Sakura recovered, nice

show time

i can't they're too cute!!!!

Mikoto out tone?

nice rap i guess

Sakura goes wild!!! (not really, but yeah)

cute cute cute cute

everyone cute

Sakura amazing

Twins not 100% twining tho(?)

Honey and Chili

Aruha tried to make everyone stand out w the dance

No one seems to suit the song at first (too cool for such a cute song)

Aruha and Seia are the ones i think could fit cute if they work hard

problems w choreo

ohhh the "doesn't fit me/haven't done this so i can't give my all yet"

c'mon Nakasone cheer up the 2nd cheer up group!!!

they're finding the way!!!

embrace cuteness (says the one who neglects cutness even tho they want to cute)

performance!!!

surprise kawaii!!!

i think the same nakasone, energy up pls

who's the red headed? i forgot the biggest cuteness surprise with the tall one sub vocal 2

ohhh coolness on the rap part

nice end

they were able to get the cute they didn't thought they could

Points

Mikoto 10 Seia 7

Kotone 11 Mitsuki 46 i wonder if no one get mikoto and kotone mixed up

OHHHHH A TIE Karen- Aruha 35

Riko 12 Ayaka 37 the cool ones are winning, had better vocals in my opinion (and Anon surprised, lol her name)

Maho 4 Anon 56

Sakura 139 Sayaka 6 OH MY GOD SAKURA GAVE THEM THE WIN! (i agree she was 10/10 between both teams

Tokyo Girl

Mel-fish

group without experience, in general, please surprise me

ahhh Haruka is a INTP girly i forget but i support anyways (also her face reminds me of Yanagawa Nanami)

heavy preassure from the other group lead by Ran and Kassa

Mana is leader? she pretty... ohhhhh she's older than me, i was looking for the older one!!! cyz i forgot who was

awww Haruka has many troubles to remember all, Haruka is me (?) (not really...)

Mika? and Mana are the ones that can handle it more...?

even tho Yumeki says she's not focused, makes sense she's worried for the babies she has there

Okay Mana being mom/teacher here

I'd think the same as Haruka if i was against that other team!

Rio was leader ooooo

this team needs hardwork, and Mana is nee-san for them so must do her best

relying on each other, good

i don't expect a lot from them but to surprise me considering who are they going against

ohhh rehearsaling whole day

final class lets see!

Yumeki smiles!!!! good sign!!! he's surprised!!!

they'll surprise me, right? especially if i compare my expectations from them, theyr performance and the other's group they'll surprise me, i hope so

performance

wow nice

perfume is so good btw and i always forget to listen

ooooo haruka

i'm being surprised

same Hongi, nice expressions

Mana is beautifull btw

what was Mana's previous experience? the theater girls?

Haruka makes me awww so hard here

dance break-end wow

yeah, they surprised me, they will lose but surprised me a lot

😮AWAKE (had to add the emoji)

the name sounds so... something Kassa would come up with

btw... KASSA! (Momona for the non harowotas(?)) RAN! MOMOKA! KEIKO!

"aruku aruku cha cha cha" -Ishii Ran

I trust them cuz Kassa was a while on H!P's dance club, has a nice voice, and then many girls i liked a lot

tho i'm worried bout Momoka's voice with this song, will it fit?

LET'S GO RAN!!! Ran's wants to compete w Miu againt

Kassa showing the experience

Tsuzumi bby helping them randomly lol (mostly Momoka, right?)

oh right, Kassa center!

Yumeki says they're the best group as far as first class i guess

Miu's group visiting, this is to fuel the rivalry, specifically Ran's and Miu's

But also to study

Nice rivalry love it

Ran feels she lacks something after seeing Miu's grouop oooooo

Ran is doubting OMG

Nakasone knows, she's so mother, be my 2nd mother please, therapist, life coach, dance teacher pls!!!

ohhh Keiko glasses

let's go Ran...

show!

uaaaaaa!!! ahhhh Kassa, Ranm everyone

nice Keiko

Momoka fits v well omg

aaaa Ran nice

nice Keiko yelling omg boosting this up

Ranka cool btw

me too touched nakasone

ohh wait Momoka is main vocal? nice

wow Ran killing this

they slay!

a bit over expcted, specially from F class girly i forgot (ranka?)

will win

Points

Mana 20 (me bit sad) Ranka 23 nice smol gap

Haruka 18 Keiko 21 smol gap again, don't worry Haruka, you also did good

Mika 3 Nonoka 7... tbf, i ignored them unvoluntarily, so...

Nana 7 Momoka 73 i want to celebrate for my husky voiced girl, but Nana did well i feel sad to celebrate (goooo momoka)

Rio 12 Momona 93, expected sorry, AND I WATCH THIS CUZ OF KASSA SO I MUST CELEBRATE, i feel bad tho... (go Kassa)

POOR SARA, DUDE THIS IS BRUTAL GAP, EXPECTED BUT BRUTAL

Sara 1 Ran 123 DUDE! i really feel bad i cannot celebrate a girl in my ranking now (i mean Ran)

61-340 is brutal, but again expected in a way

awww the hug!!!

NOW FINALLY MIU'S GROUP!

Body & Soul

Miu's group which name i forgot rn

ONCE AGAIN I LOVE HOW THEY HELPED THE OTHER TEAM, AND THIS COULD BE SOMETHING KASSA SHOULD HAVE DONE

not them finding out SPEED was a girl group lol these gen z girls (i knew cuz i've researched jpop)

ohhh Kokoro is leader

ohhh Miu's direct with things she doesn't like, so it seems conflictive (Miu is what i avoid to be)

Kokoro has nice words, for Miu's moment and life i think

Nakasone's classes are so funny

I kinda get you Miu... on those views

NAKASONE STOP BEING SO MOTHER

wow Rino went real mother with Miu, that's so cute and nice

LET'S GO MIU!!!

team meeting group therapy, this is nice

lol Nano fell asleep momentaneusly

they all need group therapies here at every time

nice rap Suzu

Kokoro's voice is so soft idk

let's see what Yumeki says...

over 100 OHHHH

Tsuzumi is cute

Nano is funny in an unexpected way

they're playing somehow, this look so cute

yes Kokoro, i think so as well

showtime

same nakasone, can't believe suzu is 16

ii tsuzumi

ohhhh Tsuzumi is main vocal, nice

Kokoro's voice has something interesting

ohhh Hazuki, Suzu!!!! let's go

Kassa is really focusedto Miu's group

nice nice tbh

they won obviously, but still the other team had a lot of inconvinience and hard work

Points

i hope team one has nice points cuz of the troubles they had and cuz miu's group helped them

Meika 1 Hazuki 11 sad for both

Kokona 11 Nano 26, wow this is close for the moment, i like this

Serina 13 Kokoro 61, somehow expected

Kano 1 Suzu 54, i mean... yeah... expected

Rin 8 Miu 28, expected, but girl Rin had a lot going on, i'm proud of her and her group

ofc Rin, you just can accept it

i hope for a bright idol future for Aito Rin

Shizuku 16 and Tsuzumi something (high ofc... just reveal it)

ofc Miu's group won

cute Tsuzumi btw

awwww Tsuzumi's "daisuki" to her group!

OKAY BUT TSUZUMI'S VOTES?!

Who won?

okay group 1 for how you like that, 2 for love dive, 2 for seifuku no manekin (LET'S GO AYANE!!!), 1 for hype boy, 2 for Tokyo girl, 2 for Fiesta, 1 for Cheer up and 2 for body & soul

over all winner is?!?!?!?!

Body & Soul group 2 (Miu's avengers group)

i somehow expected it... but group 2 for Tokyo Girl (Ran's) and group 2 for Seifuku no Manekin (where Ayane was) were good af (biased tho)

Ohhhh the ranking? here?

many ties wow

i won't write the fricking ranking here

wow Miu had 28 votes and got 43rd, shocking

i won't say the ranking but wow nice the 3 to 11

top 1 is between Tsuzumi and Ayane AAAAAAA

Tsuzumi has the crown, let's go Ayane, you can steal it

this is fun cuz Kassa got 5th and i'm originally and mainly supporting her

ohhh so Tsuzumi had 172 votes

congrats Tsuzumi

clap clap clap clap

oh right the 3000 votes thingy, so unfair

wait, i'm confucción now, how does this work? each wining group got 3000 extra votes? it seems that happened... idk, me confussion

i just want all of these girls to debut

i hope Kotone goes up cuz i don't want her leaving now

oh so it was 1 week learning and rehearsal

next week dance battle

AND I HEARD RENAI REVOLUTION 21?!?!

HIDDEN CAMERA?! OMG

lol explaining MBTI and showing with them nice

lol Tsuzumi guessing IZ*ONE yelling lol lol

and idk who lost her hearing after that lol lol

Tsuzumi loud ENFP bby

Honoka is reaction ENFP lol

S. Miu's unexpresiveness ISTP (crying in the inside, me until i'm alone)

i want to see this more lol

[lyinginbedmon]

I’m on my BS and feeling punchy so here’s my attempt to break down why Stable Diffusion, ChatGPT, et al suck on a mechanical level and why they’re not remotely going to be the future of AI.

Strap in children.

Now I’m not personally privy to the exact inner workings of these systems, I’ve never programmed a Q learning system myself, and my only real claim to expertise in the field of AI is that it’s been my most persistent hyperfocus for, oh, going on a decade and a half now.

Oh and a bachelors degree in Computing. I know some stuff but don’t take me as gospel because I’m also knowledgeable enough to know I’ve got some significant limits in talking about this kind of stuff.

Anyway, that all aside, these systems all work in roughly the same way: Reinforcement learning applied through massive data sets.

Essentially, imagine you’re in class studying a textbook. Your teacher gives you dozens of these textbooks and tells you to learn how to do algebra from them. Whenever you answer a question correctly, the teacher gives you a nice pat on the head. Whenever you answer a question incorrectly, they whack you with a ruler. (For sake of illustration we’re ignoring that laws exist to ideally prevent such conduct in the school environment)

You basically plug in random answers to questions and, as you gradually find the answers that don’t get you punished and get you rewarded, you steadily get better and better at doing algebra. Right?

Well... no, actually. You, a presumably-human person, probably would work it out eventually by actually reading the textbooks, growing your understanding of algebra, and determining the flaws in your reasoning along the way to improve it.

But these AI don’t do that. Their teacher isn’t actually teaching them how to do algebra, they’re just teaching them to pick the answers for which the teacher doesn’t hurt them.

This is the key flaw in these AI and it’s best summarised as an incapability for comprehension. It’s why AI artists started out so obviously plagiarising human artists, down to the garbled signatures in the lower right corner and such. They don’t actually know WHY human artists in their data sets put those pixels there so often, they just know that after looking at a few thousand images they tend to be scored better when they include them in their garbled images.

Similarly, ChatGPT was trained to write about a lot of different subjects by exposing it to human writing on a range of topics and rewarding it when the result was close to human writing... ish. The problem here is that, much like the algebra analogy, the person rewarding the AI didn’t necessarily know if what ChatGPT spat out was accurate or even necessarily completely comprehensible, just that it looked like it was in the brief span of time they had to evaluate it before running the next test iteration.

Because these systems have no concept of comprehension, they only pursue the output that gets them rewards based on the end product, with no understanding of the merit and value of how they actually got there and why. Their only objective is to please the teacher so they don’t get whacked with the ruler.

Now, for comparison, let’s talk about AlphaStar. A very well-known bot that was made for millions of dollars to play StarCraft 2, which uses a variety of integrated commonplace AI systems to approach the game in different ways, with self-composed strategies to move between according to the game state and a Lot of understanding of what each potential move will entail and how/why they compare in terms of their goal of ultimately defeating their opponent.

AlphaStar is a lot smarter than ChatGPT, Midjourney, Stable Diffusion, etc. etc. etc because it actually knows why it’s doing everything it’s doing. It might not be able to articulate that in an image or a paragraph, but it knows that doing one thing will make other things harder and doing another thing will be better in this circumstance but not others. There’s a lot more thinking going on under the hood.

To give you an idea of how far away we are from actual “general intelligence” AI, from actual AI artists and authors, AlphaStar basically only functions at all inside of a fairly small subset of StarCraft 2 games. It was trained predominantly on one of the three factions and, whilst it’s gotten pretty good at opposing human players, it still has glaring flaws and it’s not a system that can be readily adapted to any other possible AI context. And it cost millions of dollars to make.

General intelligence isn’t likely to be available for at least a few more years, maybe a decade, and it quite definitely won’t be affordable for even longer, possibly close to a century (assuming capitalism still matters at that point).

And these idiotic copyright-disregarding labour-stealing systems will not even be able to articulate their own obsolescence when that happens.

[dwellordream]

Initial Impressions of HotD, Episode 6

be warned there are spoilers below.

i have read fire & blood, but i am not judging the show as to its accuracy towards the book, as i had major issues with fire & blood, particularly in regard to how grrm wrote the female characters and handled the Dance.

this is not an evaluation of it as an adaptation but on its own merits.

Seeing the midwives praise Rhaenyra as brave and supporting her while she gives birth was unexpectedly sweet.

Laenor definitely has a lot more personality after the time skip, which makes me wish they had spent more time with him in general, if he does die this episode. Kudos to his adult actor, who gives him a lot more spirit and humor.

It’s nice to see Laenor and Rhaenyra as a cohesive team, as opposed to sniping at one another or Laenor somehow blaming Rhaenyra for Joffrey’s murder by Criston.

How exactly did Criston get away with the murder? Are they ever going to explain this? He caved a nobleman’s head in in front of dozens of witnesses. Is the implication supposed to be that Alicent managed to weasel him out of it? How? 

Alicent’s passive aggressive faux-distress at Rhaenyra ‘exerting herself’ after demanding she see infant Joffrey upon his birth is perfect for how cold and cutting she’s become. She wastes no time in goading Laenor, too.

The happiness of Rhaenyra, Harwin, and Laenor’s uncommon family unit contrasts pretty starkly with Viserys’ rapid deterioration- has he really lost an entire arm?- and Alicent’s unhappy cruelty.

It’s nice to see the process of taming a dragon, after a few episodes where they barely featured at all. Aegon, Aemond, and the Strong boys now all being closer in age means we have an oddly bittersweet dynamic where Aegon actually gets along with Jace and Luke in an abrasive, bullying manner, while Aemond is the bitter outsider, mocked for his lack of a dragon.

I’m glad they gave Helaena an actual personality, even if it’s one that clearly aggravates her mother. Her as a weird bug girl works. Major Luna Lovegood vibes. You can tell she’s used to being completely ignored in favor of her brothers taking all the adult attention.

Alicent directly confronting Viserys about the fact that Rhaenyra’s kids are likely bastards is surprising, but it works for her more aggressive, confident personality after the timeskip. Viserys in happy denial pretty much suits him.

Aegon being a sex-obsessed, self absorbed brat who can’t take any responsibility for his actions is pretty fitting. Alicent is so used to his absurdity that she’s willing to ignore how unhinged his behavior is right before her eyes. In fact, Alicent acts more like an exasperated, world weary elder sister than a doting mother with most of her children, probably because she’s only 15 years older than Aegon.

Getting to see Laena showing off on Vhagar (while pregnant!) after she’s been so minimized as a character for the past 5 episodes was a relief. The scene really brought out her reckless, playful side and how she appeals to Daemon (and her to her).

Rhaena and Baela are super cute, especially Baela, who has major Arya vibes. 

Fatherhood definitely seems to have mellowed Daemon out (slightly) and he seems to genuinely dote on his daughters (or, Baela, at least), but he’s still as ambitious and scheming as ever when it comes down to it. 

Criston setting up the 16-ish Aegon against the 10/11 year old Jace is a total dick move and shows just how much he loathes Harwin and Rhaenyra. Aegon taking it way too seriously and trying to seriously hurt Jace- despite joking with Jace at Aemond’s expense just a few days earlier- is serious foreshadowing for him as a leader.

Harwin beating the shit out of Criston Cole felt really good, despite the huge plot hole as to how the fuck Cole got away with killing Joffrey.

Laenor and Rhaenyra fighting about Laenor’s desire to go to war, just as the rumors are starting to increase about their sons, shows Laenor’s immaturity, but also his underlying resentment about losing Joffrey and the marriage in the first place, even if he’s had other relationships since then.

Laena comforting Rhaena’s distress about her egg still not having hatched (and Rhaena singing to the egg) was very sweet. Daemon favoring Baela over Rhaena because Baela has the bolder personality and a dragon makes sense for his shitty proclivities as a parent.

Laena having a monologue about how she knows she’s not the wife Daemon would have preferred.... yikes. Read the room, writers. You’ve treated your two major female characters of color (Laena and Mysaria) like shit.

The young actors were good, but Olivia Cooke and Emma D’Arcy are a cut above. Rhaenyra actually proposing that Jace and Helaena wed makes a lot of sense and is actually a smart political move on her part, as well as offering Aemond an egg.

At this point Viserys is completely impotent as king. He’s unwilling to override Alicent in regards to the betrothal and is clearly used to pawning off a lot of his responsibility as ruler on her at this point, especially with their children mostly grown.

Lyonel Strong as essentially the only father in the series willing to put his children before his personal power....

The Larys and Alicent dynamic is so fucked up but so fun. Larys is much more confident and suave here but still his awkward self at heart, and knows exactly how to play on Alicent’s anger and insecurities.

Larys having tongues ripped out.... big Varys vibes.

Playing the ‘choose your wife or the child’ card again is extremely hackneyed in my honest opinion. We did it once with Aemma. Laena committing suicide because she fears Daemon will choose the child over her comes across as shitty writing, not heart-wrenching. They’ve done her character pretty dirty. 

The pacing with Larys having Harwin and Lyonel murdered feels really off. Last we saw the brothers interact, they seemed to be on good terms. The pacing has consistently fucked over both the Velaryons and now the Strongs.

Alicent is genuinely horrified by Larys’ actions, which is something, I guess.

Very mixed bag as an episode. The first half was great. The second half kind of sucked. 

[funkymbtifiction]

How do you improve inferior Si? Being an ENFP and all? I feel like I suck when it comes to having friendships in the sense of I see things through rose colored glasses. Like I’ll meet someone and start imagining us as lovers or best friends. Or idealizing a whole new life together. And like I’ll meet a person and then we have a friendship but then like it seems they let me down in some way; they do something that goes against my values or they don’t seem interested in the friendship. And I blame myself or wonder if I’m right.

It's normal for ENPs to leap ahead in a relationship on an emotional and intuitive level and create a fantasy world around another person, but solving it involves learning to set reasonable expectations -- to catch yourself fantasizing and creating a fake version of that person in your mind to react to/against. Part of this happens naturally as an ENP gets older and realizes that life rarely fits their expectations. But you can help it along by pausing whenever you start leaping ahead and asking yourself if these dreams are realistic, how much you know about a person, etc. It's important to see the big picture -- what are they dealing with, who are they, what's their life like? How much can I realistically expect from them and offer them in return?

One thing that's necessaryy to develop is the realization that another person is never going to complete you, be perfect, or believe all the things that you do. It's unrealistic to expect that -- so you have to meet people where they are and allow them to surprise you. Some of them will stick around, others won't. Some will be reliable, others won't. Some will be into you, others won't. You cannot control what others do, only how you respond to situations as they arise.

As to whether it's your fault or not -- that depends on the kinds of feedback you are getting from people. If they don't want to stick around, is there a common reason why? If so, is that something you can work on? Self-evaluation is good for developing better people skills, but there's also the fact that people can't help who they like or dislike and not everyone is going to want to be your friend, any more than you might not be interested in being someone else's friend.

I also feel like my inferior Si sucks when it comes to sports cuz it’s very noticeable. When the sports teacher will show how to do something and everyone gets it right the first time around and then I’m the one to mess it up and it sucks because it’s like I saw it, right? But then in actuality, I couldn’t really do it. Like my body wasn’t able to perform it in that manner. I know what to do; my body just won’t respond in that way, it doesn’t flow that way if that makes sense. Anyways how do you improve inferior Si?

Yeah, there's not much you can do about that, except learn to carefully observe, pay attention, and copy other people as exactly as you can. With sensory-related activities, you will need to practice a lot harder and with more precision than sensing types, because you are not in touch with your body and what it can do, and may also have Ne-ish false beliefs about what you're capable of ('oh, I will naturally be good at this!').

[glammourdale]

Little Top Gun(ish)/Marauders Fic incoming...

“Here’s how this plays out.” Air Vice Marshal Minerva McGonagall states to the room at large. Gaze unwavering as she braces ringless hands across the cool marble table top. “We have our three fighter pilots, as previously detailed to you all in their evaluation and history files, marshaled to our base northwest of Thurso along the Brims coastline and our priority center there, Hogsmeade. At which time, we’ll inform them of the current situation and have them introduced to their French counterparts, whom also, shall join them in Thurso. The team of six fighter pilots will train as unit for the duration of four weeks, at which point we assess their compatibility as a squadron and initiate them into the Horcrux Project. By the deadline of July 31st, MI5 in co-operation with the Royal Marine and Royal Airforce will have all resources necessary to undertake the downfall of these extremists.”

There’s an underlying tension which exists in briefing rooms. Minerva wonders briefly whether or not it ever truly leaves the space, or if the foreboding atmosphere lingers like an unattainable gamble. Not one commanding officer enters into these rooms without some form of trepidation bubbling within them as they await the inevitable delivery of complications and long off outcomes. Whilst there could be some comfort to be found in the familiar and to be expected routine of such briefings, it solemnly brings anyone any comfort. Briefings such as those, Minerva could at least claim to be used to. Having the Foreign Secretary currently sat in the room however, was a different ballpark to be messing in. Though as Vice Air Marshal the matter of acquaintance with such figures came with the territory.

The village of Waddington in Lincolnshire seems the last location imaginable to be host to many of Britain’s highest ranked military officials. Yet inside the intelligence base founded in 1916 to establish intelligence links for the duration of World War I, many lives have been calculated and sacrificed by the people in suits whom seldomly face any true risk to their own lives. It’s a demeaning system when one thinks about it. How easily others’ lives are offered up to the front line. Placed in scenes which rarely provide a safe return home. A sacrifice, some would deem it, self-offering sacrifice of the men, women and people who offer their greatest internal value, their life, in the hope of giving others a brighter future.

It's these decisions McGonagall suffers deliberating on most. The battle-hardened frowns and somber expressions worn by many of her comrades which surround her at the table of marble. Those people, the ones she looks upon now and see the internal struggle they too endure day in and day out, offering up lives for the sake of petty disagreements and struggles, which more often than not would be avoided if only people learnt to communicate effectively and without pride.

“I believe the mission brief states the names of the pilots chosen by each respective country?” Admiral Kingsley states from where he’s seated furthest away from where Minerva stands.

“Indeed. The FAF have sent their profiles of the three pilots, Lieutenant Evan Rosier, Lieutenant Dorcas Meadowes and Commander Regulus Black.”

“Black? Sirius’s Blacks brother? Is that wise having siblings placed within this team? For a mission of such high importance this seems a prime way of encouraging personal bias.”

“Commander Sirius is most certainly one of the RAF’s chosen fighter pilots. To have him not be one of our three would only weaken our chances of success. The Black brothers will cooperate not because of any sworn brotherhood that may or may not exist between them but rather for the sake of their nations and the people of Europe. Simple as that Admiral.” Minerva replies in a clipped tone. Having known placing the two infamous brothers into this squadron would be similar to intentionally stirring a hornets nest, it was fact beyond question that both brothers possessed flying capabilities nigh impossible to rival. Sirius, despite his ego Minerva thought tiredly, was one of the most naturally gifted fighter pilots she’d known in her forty seven years of military service.

“And who else,” Admiral Scrimgeour mused in his west London drawl, “from the RAF has been put forth?”

“Lieutenant Lily Evans and Commander James Potter.”

“Potter and Black, you’ve got to be joking Minerva!”

“I most certainly am not, Commodore.” Minerva answered cooly back to Commodore Sinistra. “Should we wish to dispel this rising threat to our national security, as well as that of greater Europe, then only our best shall do. We can have no more than six air crafts airborne in order for our enemy’s honing devices to not detect us through our newly innovated radar scrambler. Three British pilots, and three French.”

“Surely there must be better choices than Black and Potter? Keep one if you must but surely their antics upon their last international mission when placed in the same squadron ensured that there not be a repeat!” Kingsley spoke out this time.

“Should we wish to succeed we need our best, I hardly think any of you could fly better than those pilots now could you? This is not up for discussion anyhow. Our pilots have been signed off and approved and shall arrive at Thurso as marshalled on Monday at seventeen hundred. Is that understood?”

A general muttering of agreement was heard around the table. Minerva made sure to watch as each official nodded in turn before she was finally satisfied.

National security was her job and if reuniting the estranged brothers was what it took to stop this brewing war before it could truly begin and start to clock a body count, then that was what would have to be done. War didn’t halt to mend broken bonds, it raged on whilst everyone entrapped in its grasp frantically sought to survive it. Relationships could be bound or broken amidst its throws, no amount of training could erase the instinct to protect loved ones yet she’d ask that of her pilots if this was to be the price. She couldn’t risk the security of her country, not of her people and homeland, the needs of the few would not outweigh the needs of the many. A philosophy Minerva had sworn to herself in a decade long since past, one she held onto through all her trials and tribulations faced in a position such as hers. She would ask of these brothers to mend, perhaps not entirely, but enough so that they could encapsulate the meaning of squadron. Of equals, of partners faced with odds no betting person would bid on. She would ask it, no, order it from them, and hope secretly and desperately, that neither young man would end as a casualty.