#she says that because of the genre of the poem romantic love is not a big concern

[twelvemonkeyswere]

The ultimate form of love is to see no difference between the self and the beloved.

—Emily Wilson's Introduction to The Iliad

[avis-writeshq]

platform ten – spencer reid

summary: two months after he embarrassingly got caught ogling at the pretty girl on the train, Spencer’s team begins to suspect something.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: friends to lovers, rated G for mutual pining and second hand embarrassment. no use of (Y/N).

warnings: fluff, boy band spencer reid (caution, hot!), reader wears lipgloss, excessive mentions of Edgar Allen Poe (one of my favourite Gothic authors), not proof read

wc: 3.4k

part one: carriage six

“So, I’ve been reading Poe’s works,” you begin, your headphones around your neck and you pull out ‘The Complete Poetry of Edgar Allan Poe’, flipping to ‘Annabel Lee’. 

Spencer watches as you flick to the page, his heart soaring at the sight of the annotations that litter the page. There are different colours and highlighters across the words and from what he could tell pink talked about language and that was the colour that stood out to him most. You bring the book closer so that he can read your annotations too and his heart stutters in his chest at the close proximity. He can smell the strawberry and honey shampoo in your hair and the heat rises up to his cheeks. It’s intoxicating. 

“I really don’t think the narrator is a crazy psychopath,” you say, glancing at him. “It just sounds like he’s really, seriously in love with her which just makes a bunch of people jealous.”

He watches the way you point to a certain line, ‘But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee.’ 

“Does that not sound like something you would say when you’re in love?” You ask, swooning a little. “It’s romantic, don’t you think? And their love is so brilliant and pure that the angels stole her away from him. I mean, it’s sad, but it’s kind of a picture of how amazing their love is.”

He nods along, his cheeks flushed because that’s what he thinks when he thinks of you. But he’ll never tell you that. How could he even dream of you feeling the same? The idea in itself is just so bizarre that he doesn’t even dare to entertain the thought. Not even when it’s late at night and he’s by himself, thinking through every single interaction you’ve had with him since he finally talked to you two months ago. 

“And I mean, think about it,” you continue, gesticulating with every word, eyes wide with excitement. “The last stanza. He’s still in love with her even after she’s passed away. How romantic is that?”

“Very romantic,” Spencer agrees, and he wonders if that’s how he looks when he rambles. “Alright, it’s definitely a love poem.”

He relishes in the way your eyes light up at his acceptance, the way you grin up at him and he wants to make you smile this way every day. His eyes wander to your lips and he swallows thickly. You’re wearing that lipgloss again, a cool berry tone that makes your lips shine and–

“Spencer? Are you okay?” 

He all but jolts out of his trance and he coughs awkwardly, his cheeks flushed. “Yes!” He squeaks, before clearing his throat and repeating the word. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay.”

He watches as an amused smile quirks at your lips as you ask, “are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he manages to croak, his ears red. 

He can’t even look at you. His eyes turn back to the book you’re holding, reading through the annotations you’ve made on the page for the nth time over. This is an example of one of the instances he doesn’t want to remember and prays that his stop would miraculously be next. 

“I’ve been reading The Tell-Tale Heart,” you say, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Spencer forces himself to maintain eye contact with you and he manages a small, “really?”

You laugh and nod. “Yep! It’s really good. Kinda creepy.”

“It is a little creepy,” he admits, his gaze flicking to your lips again. He’s kicking himself internally, asking, ‘who’s the creepy one now, weirdo?!’

He figures that you’re either incredibly gracious or incredibly used to it because you don’t mention the way his attention wavers. 

“You don’t seem okay.”

Or so he thought.

“What— um— what makes you say that?” He asks, clearing his throat.

You shoot him a smile. “You’re not going on about the text like you usually do.”

He opens his mouth and then shuts it again, his brain short circuiting. He can imagine Derek snickering and Emily commenting her usual, ‘IQ of 187, slashed to 60’. 

“Spencer?” You look amused, a smile on his face and a mischievous glimmer in your eye. “Are you—“

“I’m fine!” Spencer says quickly, ears burning. “I’m just— thinking? Yes, thinking.”

You laugh. “Dangerous pastime.”

“What?”

“I— never mind,” you shake your head, continuing to laugh. “But I do want to hear your thoughts on ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’ at some point.”

“Totally!” He jolts, and he’s kicking himself internally for being so eager. “Yes. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

The train lurches to a stop and Spencer gets up from his seat. 

“Bye, Spencer,” you say, smiling brilliantly at him, and it takes every ounce of self control in him to not just grab your face and kiss you.

“Bye,” he says, saying your name, before getting off the train.

*** 

Spencer has been acting weird. That is the conclusion Derek has come to as he watches the youngest member of their team enter the bullpen with the widest grin on the planet for the fourth time that week. He watches as Spencer sits down at his desk, looking like a literal teenager, and gets down to work. He has his earphones plugged in, the kind you would get at a dollar store, or the complementary ones you get from airports that never fit your ears right and leave you with headaches because of the horrible audio quality. Derek supposes he’s just listening to Beethoven or Bach or another dead classical musician. But as he passes Spencer’s desk, he hears something that makes him stop in his tracks. Spencer is humming. No, not just humming. He’s muttering lyrics under his breath. Since when did classical music have lyrics?

“What the hell…?” Derek asks under his breath to no one in particular. 

“You talking about Reid?” Emily asks, an amused grin on her face. “He’s acting weird.”

“Thank God, I thought I was the only one.” JJ seemingly appears out of nowhere, standing beside them with her arms crossed and a sly smile tugging at her lips. 

Rossi enters the bullpen, nodding towards Spencer who was sitting at his desk, blissfully unaware. “We talking about the kid?”

“He’s been acting weird all week,” Derek insists, his brows furrowing. “What do you think it is?”

“Maybe he won a chess tournament,” JJ says with a soft laugh. 

Emily rolls her eyes at the idea. “Please, Reid’s probably the winner of every single chess tournament in the state.”

“Maybe his mother is doing better?” Rossi suggests.

“Doesn’t explain why he’s listening to, I don’t know, not Mozart,” Derek points out.

There’s a silence that pulls over the group as they stare at the back of Reid’s head. It isn’t long before he turns around to face his coworkers, raising an eyebrow.

“… Why are you staring at me?” Spencer asks, giving them all pointed looks. 

“You’re acting weird,” Morgan says, cutting straight to the chase. “Care to share with the class?”

Spencer offers them all confused looks. “I’m… not acting weird? If anything, you guys are the ones acting weird.”

“Ohh, no, don’t turn this around on us.” Emily grins, walking over to him. “What’s going on?”

“What— guys, what happened to ‘no profiling each other’?” Spencer spluttered, shooting accusatory looks towards his coworkers.

“We’re just worried, that’s all,” JJ says with maternal sympathy, but Spencer can tell that she’s hiding a smile. 

He groans, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “I’m fine guys. I’m not acting ‘weird’ or anything.”

“Who are you listening to, Reid?” Rossi asks quickly, nodding towards the ear phones. 

“What?” Spencer’s head snaps up, redness crawling up to his ears. 

Emily smirks. “Yeah Reid. Who are you listening to?”

“No one,” he answers, avoiding their gaze. “I’m uh— I’m going back to work.”

He quickly turns his chair around, busting himself with his files. His co-workers all exchange glances, mischievous grins on their faces. 

“You know, I could just ask Garcia to dig into your phone,” Derek says with a shrug. “Or you could tell us yourself.”

Spencer shoots him a light hearted glare. “You wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You wouldn’t.”

***

Spencer thinks he’s going to die of mortification. He spent that entire week downloading all of the released songs by Taylor Swift, dutifully listening to each song and reporting back to you on his opinions. He has since come to a conclusion: Taylor Swift is a lyrical genius. Granted, he doesn’t have much experience with other branches of music that involves lyrics, but he figures it’s pretty similar to poetry. Regardless, he’s one hundred percent sure that he’s in for a world of teasing and tasteful jabs towards his sudden shift in music taste.

He’s also been doing this thing called texting, and he even went as far as getting a new phone and email address just so that he could properly contact you. He’s been in contact with you for the past eight weeks, going as far as messaging and calling you during break times and hiding in the bathroom to have an ounce of privacy. He feels like a changed person, all because of a tiny handheld device that fits in his back pocket. And you. Mostly you. The worst thing about this entire situation is the fact that Morgan did in fact manage to convince Garcia to snoop into his phone. 

“Alright, Reid, quit hiding. Who’s the girl?” Derek demands, slapping a piece of paper onto Spencer’s desk. It’s a log of calls and downloads. In other words, it’s a log of all the times he’s called the same number and all the Taylor Swift songs he’s downloaded. 

“Girl? What— what girl?” Spencer asks, playing dumb and willing himself to look Derek in the eye. His mind is spinning. ‘Blink evenly. Maintain eye contact. Don’t stutter. Answer his questions evenly. Play dumb. There is no girl, there is no girl there is no—‘

“Reid? Reid? Spencer!” Derek snaps his fingers in front of his face, jolting him out of his trance.

“Huh?” Spencer jolts, snapping out of his trance. “What?”

Derek snorts at his reaction. “Look, kid. This person calls your cell every day at 12:30, which just so happens to be in two minutes. So, either you tell me and I let you have your fun, or she calls you and she’ll be hearing my voice instead of yours.”

Spencer scoffs, holding his phone firmly in the palm of his hand. “There is no girl, Morgan.”

“Right.” 

“I’m serious!” Spencer says, his voice going up and octave and he cringes internally. Smooth. “There is no girl.”

“Totally believe you.”

He groans, wiping a hand over his face to calm himself down. Before he could respond, the phone in his hand begins to ring. A smirk tugs at Derek’s lips and he immediately lunges for the phone, eliciting a yelp from Spencer who leaps from his seat. 

“Morgan— Morgan no—“

“C’mon kid, it’ll be a lot easier if you just give in!”

“No! Nope, nope, Morgan I swear to-“

In seconds, Derek snatches Spencer’s phone out of his hand, a triumphant look on his face. He keeps Spencer at arm’s length as he picks up the phone.

“Hey Spence!” A voice rings through the phone.

“Sorry, sweetheart, not Spencer,” Derek responds, his voice smug.

“… that’s concerning,” The voice responds slowly, cautiously. “Who is this?”

Spencer grabs the phone out of Derek’s hand, running out of the bullpen as quickly as his long legs could carry him, flipping his coworker the finger before he leaves. 

“Hello?” He asks into the phone. “I’m so sorry, that was Derek, my co-worker.”

“Oh, the bald one!” You say quickly, recalling his name from the photos Spencer had shown you beforehand. “I thought it was like… a bad guy or something.”

He laughs softly into the phone, his cheeks warm and wearing a smile that could split his face in two. “Don’t worry, he’s not a bad guy. A pain in the ass, maybe, but not a bad guy.”

He hears you chuckle from the other side of the line. “Yeah, he seems like a nice person. Your entire team sounds really cool.”

“Maybe you could meet them at some point,” Spencer says quietly, his heart thundering in his chest. “I mean, they kind of already know you exist.”

“That would be fun,” You muse, and he hears the soft ruffling of cling wrap in the background.

“Lunch?” 

He hears you hum in response, and he can’t help but chuckle. There’s a silence for a few seconds, and he assumes you were eating, before your voice picks up again.

“I’d love to meet your team at some point, Spence. They seem like really amazing people.” 

He can’t help but smile, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. They are. You’d love them, and I’m sure they’d love you just as much.”

Before long, lunch break is over and Spencer begrudgingly hangs up and returns to the bullpen, his team all wearing frustratingly smug faces. He rolls his eyes, not paying them any kind as he returns to his desk. He ignores the very blatant whistle Derek does in his direction and the snort Emily fails to hide.

“So…” JJ begins, dragging her words out. “You’ve got a girlfriend?”

Spencer chokes on air and bites his tongue, grimacing at the taste of blood. “I do not have a girlfriend.” It’s not a lie.

“But you want her to be,” Emily says, smirking. 

“No! Yes. I don’t know, maybe?” Spencer feels like a teenage boy being lectured by his parents. Not that he knows what that feels like.

“Alright, well, have you asked her on a date?” Derek asks as he raises an eyebrow.

Spencer coughs, reaching for his mug of stale coffee. That’s all he needs to do to answer Derek’s question, because in moments Derek is screaming in his ear. 

“Why haven’t you asked her out yet?!”

“We talk loads of times,” Spencer insists, hiding behind his disgustingly old coffee. “We just never… we’re just friends.”

Rossi bites back a chuckle. “Yes, because friends call each other every day during their lunch breaks.”

Spencer feels his face grow impossibly hotter and he chugs the last of his coffee. He cringes before turning his attention back to his files in an attempt to calm himself down. It doesn’t work.

“How did you meet her?” JJ asks, gentler this time. 

Spencer flushes and plays with his watch. “On the train.”

“That’s very you,” she laughs, ruffling his hair. “She seems really nice, Spencer.”

He preens at the compliment, his mind drifting to your pretty hair and glossy lips. He sports a grin and he nods. “She’s really, really nice.”

*** 

Spencer sits next to you on the train as usual. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is combed to be a little neater, only for his efforts to be destroyed when a strong gust of wind hits his face the moment he left his apartment. He reminds himself to put a comb into his bag after work. You’re talking about another one of Poe’s works, this time ‘The Raven’, another love poem. Your eyes are bright with excitement as you go on and on about the writing style and whatever else. 

Spencer is far from religious but your existence alone is enough to have him thanking the heaven’s that he is alive. He can’t help but smile every time you do, his gaze perpetually on your lips. He feels a little guilty about it, about how he can’t even control himself when he’s around you but you’re just so beautiful that he can’t help himself. He feels even guiltier when he realises he hasn’t processed a word you’ve said. 

“... and that’s why I think Edgar Allen Poe is really just a huge softie who wants to be loved,” you finish, snapping the book closed. “What do you think, Doctor Genius?”

“Totally,” Spencer agrees quickly, almost biting his tongue. “Absolutely.”

You laugh and Spencer thinks he’s going to faint. 

“Where are you up to in your Taylor Swift project?” You ask teasingly, nudging his arm. If it were anyone else, Spencer would have grimaced and shrugged them off but you aren’t just ‘anyone’. You’re the most amazing person in the world. 

“I’m up to 1989 track 9, Wildest Dreams,” Spencer recites, pulling out his notebook from his inner jacket pocket. It’s a small leatherbound notebook that he’s been writing all his thoughts in regards to the Taylor Swift songs, all in chronological order. He’s actually quite proud of it as he flicks to the latest page. “I really like this one. I did some research and I found out that the bass sound in the background is actually her heartbeat. That’s pretty interesting.”

You almost scream in excitement, leaning closer to him to read his notes. “I love this song! It’s my favourite Taylor Swift song ever and it’s just so pretty, you know?”

He nods in agreement, his cheeks flushed at the close proximity and he finds that he can no longer feel his tongue. He should get that checked out. 

“It reminds me of you sometimes,” you say, completely unabashed. Spencer thinks you’re trying to kill him. 

“What?” He asks meekly, recalling every lyric from the song. 

You freeze, flustered and you pull away from him. Spencer frowns at the sudden space but he watches as you stammer and stumble over your words.

“I just meant– you know, it’s a good song! That’s all.” You laugh anxiously, fiddling with the book in your hand. “Never mind, just ignore me. Tell me more about what you like about the song.”

In an almost uncharacteristic bout of confidence, Spencer reaches out to take your hand in his. At first, he thought his head was going to explode. It felt heavy and light all at the same time and he was almost about to pull his hand away when you squeezed his fingers. Just like that, all doubts are gone. You’re smiling at him and Spencer knows that he would do absolutely anything to make sure to keep it there. 

When the train lurches to a stop at Quantico, Spencer doesn’t make any effort to move. He’s grinning ear-to-ear, intertwining your fingers with his. 

“Isn’t this your stop?” You ask gently, loosening your hold on his hand. 

He shrugs, holding onto your hand tighter. “I’m always early. I can be late for once.”

Besides, he thinks to himself, inching closer to you, this is so worth it.

Pride bubbles in his heart when he hears you laugh again and his smile grows impossibly wider. 

“We’re almost at my stop,” you say, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand. “We should go out. You know, instead of just meeting on the train.”

Spencer nods immediately at the suggestion. “I’d like that. Are you free on Saturday?”

“I’m definitely free on Saturday,” you respond, squeezing his hand again. 

Spencer sits there with you until you make it to your stop. The corners of his eyes are crinkled and he feels happy, so goddamn happy, and he wonders how he’s lived without you. Before you get off the train, he calls your name. He relishes in the way you turn around, the confusion palpable in your eyes. 

“Yeah?”

He takes a step closer to you, his face in front of yours. His heartbeat is in his ears but at the same time he feels an incredibly ironic sense of calm. In seconds, he presses his lips to yours in a short kiss. He grins at you as you stumble out of the train dazed, waving goodbye. From the window he could see you press your cold hands to your cheeks before reaching for your phone. 

The smile that grows on his face when he sees your face light up his phone is embarrassing. It’s goofy and silly and he is so grateful that the carriage is empty. 

“Hello?” 

“You cannot–” your voice comes through the speaker and he grins again– “you cannot just kiss me randomly and then leave.”

“Technically the train left, not me,” Spencer says with a small laugh.

You’re quiet on the other end before replying, “We need a re-do on Saturday.”

Spencer has no complaints. 

reblogs are always appreciated!

taglist: @sunshineyottie @cerulean-turtle @tortelliniturtle7 @bucxkysdoll @awitadecoca

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[reikissu]

❥･• kaedehara kazuha and wanderer dating hcs.

a/n: might be ooc, i’ll try my best to edit it and make it more accurate to their character huhu

ꔛ genre: fluff, romance

ꔛ reader: gender neutral

ꔛ warnings: corny stuff, cursing

my, you're a lucky one to be the paramour of kaedehara kazuha.. because life is about to change.

he's swift as the wind, with just his way of words and voice.. he can make you turn flustered in a matter of minutes.

with just a call, you feel as if you're on cloud 9.

"dearest, may you come here?" "huh? uh sure...! (⌯❛௦❛⌯)" then he asks why your cheeks are red HAHA

his petnames for you are like a sweet flavor to his tongue, calling you out by using his petnames makes him feel warm.

he calls you dearest, dear and love. they vary in different days when he chooses one.

his love language is definitely gifts and physical touch, he loves writing poems and giving it to you, since you are his inspiration of the poems he gives to you.

and they turn out to be so romantic that you start giggling while reading it, after all.. it is all about you and he wrote it full-heartedly.

everytime it’s autumn, he would bring you to a cliff where the trees are in view, sitting next to you as you both behold the sight of the maple leaves flowing along with the wind.

he would take one leaf and put it behind your ear as an accessory, "you look beautiful, my love." he says as he gives a soft smile. 🤭

as i also mentioned, his other love language is physical touch. he likes to feel your soft skin against his, he'll kiss you, hug you, hold your hand.. anything that’s comfortable with you.

on certain occasions he would hold your hand, whenever you both are alone of course.. wouldn’t want anyone prying on your moments with kazuha, no?

he would share his experiences when he traveled with beidou or by himself, it would always have interesting events happening in them. so it’s very entertaining to listen to.

HE DEF KNOWS HOW TO SEW, because i hc that when tomo had rips on his clothes, kazuha would fix them. so kazuha would gift you handmade clothes, handkerchiefs, scarfs… you name it, and it will always be in your favorite color. “Ah, shit! My sleeve ripped!” “Mm? Oh, give me the top you’re currently wearing tomorrow, i will fix it.” “You know how to sew?” “Yes, my dear.” “Aw, thank you..” “You’re welcome :)”

sometimes when you both are in the mood to hangout on the ship, Captain Beidou always teases you both “Hey, hey.. no one told me the lovebirds would board the ship!” “Captain beidou…” you and the other crew mates just laugh it off.

you and Beidou would talk about Kazuha and tell stories, and she had one piece of advice for you. “Just come to me if Kazuha hurts you or did something wrong, i’ll teach that kid a lesson.” “Is that a threat, captain?” you laugh, kazuha mutters under his breath, leaning on the wall of the ship "Why would i ever do that to them.."

all jokes aside, having kazuha in your life is a blessing from the gods that you can never thank them enough for.

at first, wanderer wasn’t the sweetest boyfriend. But after learning about relationships and love.. he started showing how much he loves you.

after he regained his memories, he was back to his old, sassy and arrogant self. But that didn’t stop him from being soft around you.

in public, he’s the biggest asshole you’ll ever meet istg, but when alone with you, he just suddenly melts into your touch.

he’d let you play with his hair, cuddle with him or more. you’re one of the people he trusts and loves, so he doesn’t mind it. he likes being pampered and pampering you.

he doesn’t have a petname for you, he just calls you by your name. but if he’s feeling nice enough, he’ll call you babe.

“Babe, can you-“ “Huh? What did you call me? 🤩” “..Babe. Are you deaf?” “OH MY GOSH 🥹” then he’d just stare at you like “what’s so shocking about that?” HAHAHAHAHA

his love language would mainly be physical touch, but in my opinion his love languages would be all, depending on his mood.

he would make fun of you sometimes, if you trip he’d definitely laugh his ass off but will help you stand up, if you accidentally say something that is SO stupid he’ll literally never shut up about it.

he would try food or things that you like, so he’d understand your preferences. But if you like sweets, he’d have a hard time with it. he’d spend an hour just trying to swallow it, he hates it.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like dango?” “….No. I like dango.” (He’s about to puke.)

wanderer wasn’t very good at showing his love through physical touch, but he would give you soft yet quick kisses, it’s like cotton grazing on your lips. after a while, he would be able to kiss you more confidently without any hesitation in private.

he is slightly showy in public, just subtle hand and waist holding as you two walk through sumeru, eat somewhere, or do any activities outside. like stargazing, watching a play etc.

whenever he would see you eyeing something you want, he would click his tongue and say “Tsk, buy it yourself.” then later night he’s holding a bag with the item/food you wanted earlier… “Hm? Isn’t that the food/thing i wanted?” “…Yeah.” “I thought you told me to buy it myself?” “Shut up, i changed my mind.” (he will get absolutely pissed off and flustered if you tease him about it 😭)

he would help you in any way he can, cooking, laundry, blahblahblah. just anything, so he could take the weight off your shoulders. you’re a hardworking person in his eyes, and he admires that, and he’s willing to be one with you.

he would surprisingly like cuddling, but not the one with those type of cuddling where it turns into some steamy stuff. i have a gut feeling he would love chill and tender moments with you, like talking about past experiences and laughing together, watching a movie together, etc. he loves seeing you smile and laugh, it makes him feel warm inside.

would kill for you, if anyone tries to harm you, they’ll be buried 6 feet under for that. even though he acts hard to get, he loves and cares for you a lot. he does not give a single shit if you’re bigger and taller than him, he knows he’s capable of protecting you.

overall, his life with you is the happiest one he has ever had. wanderer loves you with all his heart.

© reikissu do not repost/steal any of my works and repost it on other platform/s. I do not own the characters i write for at all, reblogs are appreciated though ♡

[astrologuzzy]

★ MY ASTRO OBSERVASHUNS ★

Disclaimer before I start: I’m no professional astrologer so don’t come for me, mkayyy? MWAH 💋

♡ 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, more specifically those with Gemini placements in their personal planets loveeeee playing around with their voice a lot. Just utilizing their voice to be a silly goobert. Like making voice impressions or funny sound effects is very natural for them. Which is why I think so many Geminis are comedians, artists and actors. Whenever I see someone who makes goofy sounds or is very into voice acting I instantly know they must be a Gemini/have heavy Mercury placements and up until now i was 100% correct each time lmao. (As someone who has Gemini placements myself: I love to make funny voices or impressions, sometimes I do it without realizing lol)

♥︎ Which actually brings my to my second point on 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 but those that are musicians; I noticed they frequently love to play around with different genres of music and different styles of singing/rapping in general, even all in one song simultaneously. Good example would probably be Kanye West or Kendrick Lamar. Their music and style tends to be very versatile and they tend to incorporate even very random notes/effects/sounds to it as well.

♡ Oh my goodness, all the 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒 I’ve ever known have this damn thing where if you don’t ask them specifically for what you wanna know, they’ll never even tell you it. I had a friend with a full blown Libra stellium that I finally caught up with after months of no contact and this girl only told me about her having a girlfriend and getting into a car accident only 3 days later!? That was thanks to me for randomly mentioning romance and cars, otherwise she wouldn’t have even shared it. So if you wanna hear a Libra disclose something specific with you, just be direct with it.

♥︎ I haven’t met an 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 that wasn’t impulsive and would jump from one relationship/project into another and then complain about how everything turns out a mess (but then get back up and repeat the cycle again smh).

♡ 𝟏𝟐 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐒 and their hidden enemies is actually very fukkin real. I got to witness it closely for the first time and oh boi am I shook lol. My boyfriend has a 12H moon and I’ve witness multiple times strangers come up to us, start a conversation and then just become insanely rude to him outta absolutely nowhere as if they been having beef with him since kindergarten?! Randoms tend to get mad or hostile so easily at him even if he doesn’t say anything bad... it’s so weird.

♥︎ Every person with an 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 in their big 3 has this feistiness to them. Even when they’re super sweet and chill type of Aries I still notice that they have moments where they’re quite direct or don’t really care about what you think. They’re gonna say what they wanna say one way or another and it’s honestly so natural to them, I don’t think they even notice. Even the quiet Aries in my life have this demeanor to them that you just don’t fuck with because they’ll bite back at some point.

♡ In my experience, every 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒 that I’ve ever known always expressed their appreciation and affection in letters/poems/metaphors very frequently. Very romantic, very abstract, Shakespeare who? Every time they’d send a whole ass paragraph like 🥀”you are like a rose that fell in this chaotic ocean and turned it into a tranquil lake” 🍂 just to describe my eyes or something. I don’t think my Aquarius moon is cut for such stuff lmao, it makes me cringe a bit but I do appreciate it! Although every Pisces mars guy I ever knew had additional water placements in their big 3 (like Cancer sun or a Pisces moon) which probably only doubled that sentimentality they had.

♥︎ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 and their anger issues is something and that something is very real... That’s it, that’s the Tweet lol

♡ Idk what it is about 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 men but they always make me wanna take care of them and like baby them when they’re in their feels and retract and act like they aren’t on the verge of tears... Make me wanna go and cuddle them lol. Especially Cancer moons for wtv reason really soften my Aqua moon when I’m around without them even doing/saying anything.

♥︎ Also 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒 are insanely great at faking their true state of being. I’ve met so many Libras that on the outside look like they’re having a blast but when you actually get to know them you see that their house burned down, their granny died, they almost choked to death twice last week and their partner broke up with them for 15th time that day and now they’re homeless... And you’re like damn bro, I’d literally never guess. They really know how to mask everything, put up a great front for others and do it insanely convincingly. You literally would never guess what that Libra is actually going thru, it’s probably worse than you can image. Please check up on your Libra friends and Libras - it’s ok to ask for helpppp. You guys deserve it <3

♡ 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 are one of the funniest mothafukers everrrrr, they always make me laugh so much! Double points if they have Gemini or other Fire placements with it. Just hilarious individuals.

♥︎ 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 are actually pretty chill people, you won’t see them angry often (but they make sure you know when they do). Usually our anger and passion is more so hidden and works backstage. Compared to 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 that are loud with it and don’t hold back.

That’s it for todayyyy ☀︎

[moonlit-midnight]

The kind of heart (I can bet my life on)

Characters: Malleus Draconia, cameos from the Prefect and Lilia Vanrouge.

Genre: Hurt Comfort, Romantic Fluff.

Summary: Wherein you were lucky enough to spend your last moments with your beloved prince.

Warnings: Reader is a female, has an illness, and is a resident of Ramshackle.

—

Do you even truly love her?

If you treasure her dearly, you should also be lovers during the hard times, not only during the happy times.

Malleus Draconia felt pathetic as he recalled what the Ramshackle Prefect told him two weeks ago.

He felt pathetic for not paying proper attention to your wellbeing, and for not noticing the tiredness in your eyes and the exhaustion in your body which followed you like a dark cloud during your dates and hangouts.

He failed detecting the signs of your bad condition because he was too focused on the happy moments.

He was too focused on the bright side to the point of forgetting that even strong people could break, and even optimistic happy-go-lucky people lose their shine sometimes.

So by the time you confessed to him regarding your deteriorating health, the dragon fae prince didn’t take it well.

He got mad at you for keeping it a secret from him although deep down he knew that you hid it unintentionally, and he even had the audacity to avoid you for a while.

Two weeks later, Malleus regretted his harsh actions towards you.

He felt awful for firing hurtful words which he shouldn’t be saying to you.

Sure thing he was hurt, but the pain he felt was nothing compared to the anguish and agonizing pain gnawing at you everyday.

“Are you going to keep wasting your time sulking, and let your beloved girl slip away from you?” The prefect of Ramshackle casted a dark glare at Malleus. “You owe her an apology. Her days are numbered, so get a grip already and be with her.”

“What if she doesn't forgive me.” Malleus was sitting on the floor, staring blankly at your pastel blue bedroom door.

“Nonsense,” The prefect scoffed. “She’s not a vile person. She’s too soft on her friends, especially you.”

“I don’t deserve her forgiveness.” Closing his eyes, Malleus ignored the wrenching pain clawing at his heart violently.

The prefect let out an irritated grunt, fed up with the fae prince’s gloomy mood and persistent negativity.

“If you still won’t talk to your girlfriend by tomorrow, I’m going to drag you to her myself.”

With that, the prefect left the dorm, spending the night at Heartslabyul with the Adeuce duo.

They weren’t sure if Malleus would budge from his spot, but they were hoping that he would finally have the guts to knock on your door and talk to you.

★ —

Malleus stirred slightly upon feeling something soft making contact with his forehead.

Slowly fluttering his eyes open, your beautiful face came into view, smiling radiantly at him.

“Good morning, love.” You brushed another tender kiss on his forehead.

It was a good morning indeed.

You were alive, very much alive, breathing and living another day.

Despite your hopeless condition, another bright morning came to greet you.

“I missed you.” Malleus suppressed the urge to cry.

“That’s my line.” You chuckled, putting your arms around him in a warm embrace.

He nestled his face in your hair, breathing in your soothing scent which always smelled like gentle rainfall in a cool spring morning.

He whispered his sincerest apologies over again and again.

He begged you to forgive him for hurting you with insensitive words, for reacting in a bad way after revealing your sickness to him, and for not being there for you when you needed him the most.

You remained quiet, delicate hands patting his back ever so gently.

Your little actions was enough to convey that he was forgiven.

★ —

Malleus was busy reading the collection of haiku poems you wrote recently, too engrossed in your impressive writings when an impatient knock interrupted him.

“Malleus Draconia, get out of your room this instant.”

Rushing to the door, the young fae was greeted with a look of disbelief from his vice housewarden.

“Have you forgotten about your beloved’s invitation to a sleepover tonight?” Lilia raised a brow at him.

“Oh,” Malleus’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe I almost forgot about it.”

“Get moving boy, can’t keep your precious princess waiting.”

Malleus gave Lilia a thankful smile before teleporting to the Ramshackle dorm.

★ —

Glowing green fireflies surrounded your dim lit room, illuminating every nook and cranny.

No matter how many times you witnessed this scene, it still managed to steal your breath away.

“I hope I’m not late, my love.”

“You’re just in time.” You chortled, beckoning Malleus to join you.

He took in his surroundings, astonished at the simple yet pretty transformation.

You transformed your small room into a cozy fortress.

The floorboards was covered in three layers of comforters, fluffy pillows scattered everywhere, and the pink fairy lights Malleus once gifted you was finally put to use.

You were sitting nearby the open window, letting the night breeze caress your hair.

Malleus quietly plopped down beside you, engulfing one of your slender hands in his gloved ones.

The entire time the two of you didn’t say a word.

You plainly basked in each other’s comforting presence for two hours, and honestly it was more than enough.

At the stroke of midnight, you drew him into a kiss.

As tacky and silly it might sound, you often kissed at midnight because you thought it was romantic.

The stars in your dorm in the middle of the night always gleamed splendidly, as enchanting as the vivid fireflies that Malleus always left in his wake.

Once you broke the kiss, he gazed at you with a look filled with melancholy and deep sorrow.

Smiling at Malleus, you cradled his face in your loving hands, telling him that he shouldn’t feel bad for you.

To begin with, you were already afflicted with illness before you were swept into Twisted Wonderland.

You assured him that he shouldn’t feel sorry for letting you engage in adventurous activities during your dates which strained your health sometimes.

Your dates were either too simple; strolling at night while holding hands, writing poems in the library, making ice-cream cakes at his dorm and sharing your baked goods during lunch in a quiet place. Or too extreme, mostly racing each other in the sports field and soaring high in the skies.

Being able to fly was a childhood dream of yours, so Malleus never hesitated to make your dream come true.

He took you to the skies whenever he could.

Although it drained your energy sometimes, it was worth the risk.

You were an adventurer, a girl who wanted to live her life to the fullest, so any activity spent with Malleus even if it was exhausting was definitely worth it.

“Why did you choose to love me?” He asked after a long silence, tone laced with bashfulness and curiosity.

“Because you have the kind of heart that I can bet my life on.” You exclaimed in delight, gentle voice overflowing with devoted love and sincerity.

“You also have the kind of heart that I can bet my life on, my dearest.” He echoed your words as he smiled fondly at you, green eyes glistening with joyful tears.

Both of you were sure that you could pursue happiness together and love each other endlessly no matter the circumstances.

Before drifting to sleep, you gave him one last kiss for the night, and told him something that he would remember for the many years to come.

“My dear Malleus, when I leave this world, honor me by celebrating the life I lived with you, and don’t mourn my death for too long. It might take a very long time for you to move on and start over again with someone new, but I promise you, you’re going to fall in love again and it’s going to be amazing.”

[hwaightme]

Your fan, San (part 2)

(part 1) (your fan ml)

💬 pairing: san x interpreter!reader 💬 genre: romance, fluff, mutual pining, drama 💬 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if san was stanning you 💬 wordcount: 4.5k 💬 warnings/tags: language, conflict, two shy dorks, homie sabotage?, misunderstandings, love above all, touring, busy life, reader is a pro linguist, we stan simpteez, unedited oop- 💬 taglist: @acciocriativity, @doom-fics, @layzfeelit @jcngh0-hq @black--awsum @honey-lemon-goose @i-luvsang @jackinmyarea , @izuijin @justhere4kpop 💬 a/n: Hello there <3 here is PART 2 of YOUR FAN SAN!! Hopeless romantic? Check. Chaotic? Check... and the FINALE is coming soon??? ;~; P.S. that uni life do be getting wild so apologies if I'll be haphazardly uploading or if trains of thought are derailed~

'The Beauty of Falling in Love - a collection of short stories, poems and musings'

That was the title of the book you had to translate. And if you were not a (fully) sappy and sentimental mess before, you sure as hell were now. Because each little chapter, be it an anonymous recollection of favourite moments with a loved one, or a vignette dedicated to someone special, was some of the most heartwarming work you have ever read.

Each piece sounded so personal, so real, that you found yourself spending more time than usual on this commission. You had made an agreement with the client that they would be sending chapters out one by one, and prior to receiving one, you would send back a completed translation.

It was an easy enough arrangement, and was not too taxing when it came to your personal time. You could ruin your sleep schedule to your heart's content by watching dramas that you had missed whilst on tour, could make late night trips to the convenience store because you did not want to be caught in the businessperson rush, could catch up with people who you had inadvertently ghosted because of work and inability to find words when you wanted to.

Outside of your preferred mode of relaxation, you kept in touch with some of the members of ATEEZ, thanks to a group chat that San had created and 'simply had to add you' - at least that was how he had advertised it. The group chat consisted of him, you, Wooyoung, Yunho and Yeosang, who to you seemed like a random pick, since you did not interact with neither Yunho nor Yeosang as much.

But over a very short period of time this had changed for the better, and you had grown very comfortable, attached even, to the chaotic quartet. If anything this it was a top up vaccine for being able to keep up with the ATEEZ chaos - otherwise you would be familiarising yourself with it again for tour, as if it was the first day of work.

Little did you know, you were talking with the Operation ring leaders + Yeosang who was in it for the gossip, and to control the fire... in the way he wished. It was more or less a regular conversation, aside from San occasionally panicking and running up to one of the guys for advice.

"Yeo why did you write 'AMOGUS'?"

"Don't question me. This is art- ah see, Y/N sent the prayer hands emoji, she agrees." Yeosang responded, pointing at his phone screen.

"I feel like you guys are six parallel universes ahead of me and I don't like it."

"Make that ten, you boomer."

"This is an ancient meme you are quoting Yeo~" Wooyoung joined in, trying to poke fun at his friend.

"Say that again, the king of social boomers? Are you salty that I did not put hyung after AMOGUS because it's old?"

"What even is this chat-" Mingi, who was observing from his position lying across three dining chairs, threw the question out into the air.

"It is us trying to force San to dm Y/N by pushing them together like two dolls." Wooyoung, slightly irritated, explained.

"Man, you really are done." Mingi responded, chuckling

"I don't know, am I? San is breaking up with me so I am going through all stages of grief."

"Double u tee eff?" San raised an eyebrow and stared at Wooyoung, phone loose in his hands.

"How far along is she?"

"She isn't pregnant dude."

"Ugh you know what I mean."

"Like... a third of the way?"

"Damn you guys are slow as shit. We planned for this to take how long? You even have the confession already written up for the last chapter, this is kind of ridiculous. You know what, hold up."

Wooyoung tackled San, and thanks to the surprise nature of the attack, got the perfect opportunity to grab his friend's phone. After securing 'the bag', Wooyoung strode off to the other side of the room, clicking away, while San attempted to stand up, shouting.

Yunho seemed to have caught onto what the other was about to do, as he launched himself at the shorter man sat on the sofa and splayed himself right over like a blanket.

"No hard feelings bro this is necessary."

As San way trying to battle his way out, but was further restrained by Yeosang who had finally stopped taking photos, Wooyoung giggled deviously and locked the phone again, sauntering back with a devilish grin and handing it to San.

"It is done. You can thank me later."

"What did you do?"

"Something that you should have done like... a year ago."

"DID YOU TEXT HER?"

"Yeah. And don't worry, nothing Woo-style, you grilled me enough times for me to remember her preferences. Plus, I know how to text like you."

"And when did that come in handy?"

"Uh... I have to go water my fish BYEEE~" Wooyoung quickly departed from the living room sprinting back to the dorm, while San remained in shock, swiping at the screen to reveal the message that his friend had sent on his behalf.

Damn. It really was just like him.

The text came to you as a surprise. Though you have had some conversations over private message before, most of them had been in some way work related. Not San messaging you out of the blue to ask how you were and that you should catch up.

With the group chat all but abandoned, you happily launched into texting San. There was never any pressure for a phone call, which you greatly appreciated, and there was no specific guidelines that either of you enforced - without a care you double, triple, quadruple texted, abruptly disappeared only to reappear with a link or a photo... main things was that together, you kept your conversation alive and thriving.

You would have never, not in a million years, imagined yourself getting this close to San, or anyone with a celebrity status for that matter. Simply because you felt like they would need and deserve more than you could offer socially. You were all about human connection and uniting minds, but when it came to your own personal preferences, you would much rather write out your thoughts in astonishing detail and hit send, than say the same things out loud and to somebody in person.

And yet, contrary to your assumptions and what you could only say had been prejudice on your part, San was supportive of you and of your choices, saying he could 'imagine your voice well enough anyways'. He steered clear of pushing you to communicate in a style that was not yours; though you did enjoy hearing his voice, and would be lying if you said he was not a charmer, you could not bring yourself to reciprocate that approach. It was too overwhelming to do during the time that you had allocated for yourself as your regenerative state. And San made your heart melt by showing that he got that, without you having to tear yourself apart and explain.

To him it had been fairly easy to figure out that you were a text over call kind of person, and was something that he had advertised to the Operation Love Language squad. Given your notes app being packed, post it notes sometimes threatening to pour out of your bag, and him spotting you willingly sitting far away from any groups so you could watch something, earphones in, all pointed to that conclusion. And San found that he liked it more than he would have guessed.

Each text was like a memory, and an expression not only of something that they wanted to blurt out, but more often than not of a considered, weighed out opinion, even if it was onomatopoeia or a string of emojis. He would have never been able to get to know you like he did over text, and get so close to you that you were now happily discussing with him your own worries, and passions, and dreams, not just responding to his stream of musings and questions.

It was through one of these extensive texting sessions that you had revealed to San your endeavors as a freelance translator, and gushed about the commission you were working on.

This made San's thumbs freeze midway through typing. Carried away and impatient, he had tried to strike on all fronts, and now that he was in continuous communication with you, he regretted it. Deeply. Except he did not yet know just how risky the decision to parade as someone he was not could be.

After the first time you had mentioned your side work, he had begun to get progressively more quiet. Bit by bit. Until his responses to you turned almost into a conversation with a wall. You were unable to figure out just what had gotten into San, what had changed?

You turned to the work you were meant to translate as a distraction, expecting that the client would have shared the new chapter with you already... but no such thing.

Instead, there was an order cancellation, and a short apology.

What did you do wrong?

What happened?

Was there something that had not been quite right?

You looked over your already completed translations - you were searching for anything to suggest a reason for cancellation. The words appeared blurry, fading into one big mush. It was all terrible... wasn't it?

Who were you kidding you were probably rusty after not working with fiction for so long, and for not focusing hard enough. You had stopped paying attention to the craft. Who even were you? And interpreter, a translator, or a fraud?

You looked at the cancellation email again, knowing full well that it was pointless to try and reach the customer - they might have blocked you for all you knew. This hurt. This really hurt.

You saw that San had responded to your messages, again in a weirdly cheery tone, asking you how you are and what you have been up to? San would understand... right? San would listen to you...?

So you did something that you yourself did not expect, and pressed on the call button. He picked up on the first ring.

He sounded nervous, and almost tearful as you bared all and talked him through what had just happened. You needed him. He was the only one who had understood your language.

When you told him that you were probably over reacting and just humiliating yourself by being 'so deep in sad mode' over a whole lot of nothing, he instantly was there to catch you and call you out. He emphasised the importance of your work, of the beautiful job you had done so far... but then halted, unsure of how to proceed.

This left you confused. He then picked his words in a strangely careful manner, and almost beginning to side with the customer, saying how maybe it was for the better, and that now at least you could relax and find another project...

"San. This is really unlike you. What is up with that personality switch?"

"What do you mean Y/N? It's nothing-"

"I have an ear for speech, San, if there is anyone who could be a bullshit filter, it is me."

Silence.

More silence.

You were about to call out to him again, when you hear a muffled, barely there whisper:

"I'm sorry..."

You were sent reeling. What did he mean? Why was he sorry?

"I... it was me. Y/N. I am sorry. I really did not mean it to turn out that way I-"

"Okay first of all, why?"

"I..."

"Second of all, whilst I am grateful for your support and stuff, it does make me uncomfortable."

"I'm-"

"Thirdly, actually you know what focus on point number one."

When you did not hear an answer, you tried again: "Hello? I am waiting."

"I like you."

"...What?" you were left in shock.

You had suppressed your feelings for San in the deepest caverns of your soul out of the terror that it was bound to be unrequited, but here you were. Listening to that same man who had supported you from the beginning of your career to now (and exposing yet another ridiculous attempt at that), who had read your quirks and style and knew you better than most. Listening to him confess.

"I... how do I say this... it has been a while. A long while. I have been trying to approach you but... I was either too shy for it, or the attempts were just ridiculous. So we- so I came up with this idea, to try and tell you... this book right. The Beauty of Falling in Love. It is... it spoke to me. And I had planned to give it to you piece by piece until I could then reveal myself to you... but then we started talking outside of that and then I panicked and- yeah, I am... I am just so sorry, this is confusing as hell."

"Wait... wait wait... this is... so were you paying me to get me to like you? Was that what you were doing?"

"GOSH! NO! NO, DON'T MISUNDERSTAND!"

"Look. As much as I do like bringing joy to people through my work, this crosses a line. And it's not the fact that you ordered something from me - hell, support the artist right? It's the fact that you decided to be somebody else. You decided to conceal yourself to talk to me. Like you did not trust me. Even though you want me to like you.

I'll be returning the money to you shortly. M-kay? And... talk on stage, I guess."

Before San could respond, you ended the call sharply. No more phone calls. They were cursed, apparently.

With these thoughts, and a heavy heart, you departed for Japan.

---

"Maybe... just maybe if you had seen it through and not abandoned ship... your ship could have sailed?"

"Yunho just because it's your idea does not mean is good!" San retorted, having recounted the story to the members, gone into full crisis mode.

"Hello!? You agreed? I am just generating ideas here."

"I think we all blew this out of proportion and did not consider risks... at all." Mingi interjected, massaging his temples.

"You guys, I have an idea-" Wooyoung began, but was quickly cut off by San, who was already half way out of the door.

"You know what? I am done with the ideas. I will just do what I think is right."

---

You were conflicted. In a way, you had gotten what you wanted. A confession from your crush that you had been quietly keeping in the shadows. But at the same time, your anxiety spiked. Were you that unapproachable that San had to have twisted everything to get to you? Was your work more entertaining than you could ever be?

With these thoughts, and a heavy heart, you departed for Japan.

If your presence was not explicitly required at the venue, you would not go. Once an event ended, you would leave. If anything, you were acting just like any employee would.

You were trying to bury the conflicting feelings that you were experiencing. To an extent, you felt disrespected. Like you had been mistreated via the means of 'i am using your translation services so you should love me'. And it was one unpleasant thought.

So, you stuck to what you knew and were more or less confident in. Words that were not yours. ideas that were not yours. Feelings that were not yours.

In a matter of an hour after the first small event, however, you could not sulk in your room how you wanted, thanks to a random slip of paper being shoved under your door. You ran across the room and slammed it open in an attempt to catch the culprit, but there was no one in sight.

You gingerly picked up the papers, and read. It was unmistakable. It was the next chapter of the book, with an interesting translation on another sheet of paper, and an additional note.

"I am sorry, and I can only hope that you will read this and let me fight. <3 San"

As much as you were ready to forgive him then and there, you decided that you wanted to see just how far he was going to go.

The next morning - another letter had arrived. The next chapter, a translation, and another note.

During filming for a morning show, San had shot you numerous glances in an attempt to see whether you were even reading what he had been Amazon Priming to your room, but with a cheeky smile dancing on your lips, you let your fun continue.

Another package.

And another.

And another. Until, finally, the last chapter had arrived. At least that was what you thought right up until the evening of the same day. You had assumed that it was going to now be your turn to act, or at least to start talking again, but a loud knock jolted you out of your thoughts.

And another.

And another knock on the door. This man was an unstoppable force.

"I... I translated the last one. Well, tried to."

"But there were only eleven stories-"

"Nope, twelve. Here."

You saw a two pieces of paper appear from under the door, just like before. Except instead of the Korean page being a scan from the book, it was evidently a document that either San... or somebody else, had typed up, and then managed to print.

To be respectful, you attempted to read the Japanese, but soon enough gave up since the kanji somehow managed to look cursive, and instead took the Korean text in your hands.

You took a seat with your back against the door and knees almost flush against your chest, and began to read, your heart rate picking up pace as soon as you saw "Dear Y/N,".

It began as a little story. A re-telling of how both of you had met, and how you had come to own a little space in his heart, eventually leading to him simply giving it to you.

"Did you know that you look so beautiful in those moments when you don't think anyone is watching? The more I think about it, the more I feel like it has been what had drawn me in. How you typed and typed on your phone. If time allowed, I liked to try guessing whether you were going to switch the keyboard at some point or not. How you were and are in your element. And of course, how you are, simply, you."

He recalled the moments that you two had shared. The levels of pride and admiration he felt when he saw you being approached and congratulated by the fans, and when he could take a moment to just enjoy what you did.

San moved to explaining 'the plan' to you, and though you were ready to scold him then and there (especially since there was the door between you that made confrontation easier), you could not help but admit that the general notion (aside from making affection and crushing on someone a monetary exchange - better not put feels on Etsy) was heartwarming.

As it turned out, both of you were shy dorks who could not act on feelings. Admittedly, one of you was a LOUD shy dork and the other a 'language is life but still can't read between the lines' shy dork, but at least you made it here.

San was a nervous wreck, barely stopping himself from either pacing up and down the corridor or going into a meltdown and lying face down on the carpet. He already looked suspicious enough as is, just standing by a random hotel number like a vampire who had been refused entry.

Or perhaps more accurately, like a cat who had been shut out of the house and was now desperately trying to claw its way back in.

But that stress was quickly washed away when your form suddenly appeared before him, peeking out, drowning in an oversized hoodie. The papers were still clenched in your hand as you motioned for San to come in.

You waited until he was right in the middle of the room before closing the door. Part of you was afraid that he was going to nope out at any moment. You needed the reassurance. The confidence that was normally there when you were working. But every fiber of your being was screaming in protest, wanting simply to hide.

You observed him. He looked like he was barely breathing.

"I... really I am... so sorry... again... I know that it was so fooli-"

"私でもあなたのことが好きだ..." (I like you too)

"eXCUSEME?!"

"All this translating and you still can't process?" you joked, but began to pull on the drawstrings of your hoodie in an attempt to make your face disappear.

"ohHH NoONOOO I just want to hear you say it in every language that you know!!!" San exclaimed and in a matter of seconds was inches away, peeking at what was not yet concealed by the fluffy cotton.

As he leaned closer and closer, flustering you (and himself) in the process and took both of your hands in his, in the last leap of bravery you whispered:

"Well that, you'll have to earn, San. And I don't take traditional currency."

"You will never let that go."

"Never ever, Choi San, it's a core memory now."

"Well hey at least it means you are not letting go of me~"

"Oh the way you twist words..."

"Like you twist me around your finger, not to give you an ego trip or anything..."

"It's 'wrap'. The correct word is 'wrap' around a finger."

"Okay you know what how about I translate it to body language?" he puckered his lips, making you giggle.

"As long as I don't need to correct grammatical errors."

"Now now I'd say I'm fluent."

--

The habit of sliding notes under your door or passing them to you did not stop - it only got stronger and became an 'any location', Mission Impossible note transfer agreement.

It had become something of a game, muddling languages together and writing near-nonsense just to sit there almost crying, trying not to laugh.

Soon enough, the game spread to Wooyoung, who would on occasion intercept the messages and add in his own flair, and soon enough to a curious Yunho and Mingi, who then turned it into impromptu paper plane throwing tournaments.

Really, the only reason why Hongjoong did not intercept was because you managed to at least keep the messages under strict PG rating and had good aim - with a saving swoop you had managed to return one such airmail right into San's lap during a fan sign, leading ATINY to give you an additional "aimbot" title.

It did not matter what the schedule was, you left each other encouraging notes (and without the other knowing, stored them away in your luggage).

"Good luck being the first one to get hair and makeup done..."

"Good luck with the translation deal on the book <3" (after an entire evening of a pouting and pleading San, you had reached out to the editors of the romance book you had translated for him, and now were in very promising negotiations)

You raced ahead, in time with each other, creating your own language.

The extended time ATEEZ had spent in Japan was coming to an end, and in the blink of an eye, it was the final concert. The "closing remarks", the epilogue.

You were prepared to interpret in full, as always. One member down. Another... finally, it was only San left. The other members were looking at him expectantly, while some sent glances in your approximate direction.

You took Hongjoong's tranquility and him nudging San in the shoulder as a sign that no, you will not have to pretend he said something different and double speak it - whatever he was about to do was, apparently, captain certified.

At that moment, San pulled out a note from a pocket that you had no idea even existed. The action seemed to have the same effect on ATINY as they "oooohed" - Yunho fake whispered into the microphone that San was now a part-time magician, so these things were the norm.

You had your microphone at the ready. With bated breath, you waited for San to begin. And that, he did.

In Japanese.

Grammatically correct, coherent and well-delivered Japanese.

Even though some of the phrases were obviously not his style and word selection, leading you to imagine him poring over this text like he was writing the declaration of independence with the boys, it was him. It was his feeling. It was his message.

Your arm fell to your side with a thud, and you were grateful that your microphone had been turned off for the time being. You caught yourself gaping, and had to forcibly compose yourself to reveal only a soft smile, as you took the scene in.

San was not exactly trying to hide that he was paying special attention to a specific part of the arena, with his body turned almost completely in your direction and only a few glances off to the sides and at the note.

"...and I hope that we will always be together, as one, and share this world. sometimes there may be struggle, there may be darkness, but WE," he makes a grand gesture with his hand, as if highlighting the area in front of him, but really it was just to, again, symbolise that certain someone at the forefront of his mind, "will last, and be the light."

The crowd roared, and you could allow yourself to internally combust as you watched ATEEZ wave, bow and bid their farewells.

Some things did not need a translation to be understood, and some things were not up for interpretation.

Like how San sprinted to you as soon as he was out of public sight. How he swept you off your feet both literally and metaphorically.

How Jongho muttered 'get a room', but still smiled at both of you when he passed by.

How, upon your return to South Korea, he had practically made it his mission to dote on you, and any moment he got, show that you were together.

Matching plushies? Check.

Basically exposing you both on Late Night Dive (though there was not really anything to expose because the entire ordeal was almost a live streamed ATEEZ drama)? Check.

Happily chatting away with ATINY about love and about finding it, sending loving stares your way? Check.

This was the love language you shared. No hiding, no scheming. Two native speakers, who found each other in translation.

[whorediaries-09]

make confessions 🤍- send in a request and i'll ship you with a character.

Hi!! I love your valentine's day event, the false god theme is so fun, it's my favorite song from lover!!

I'm a straight female and my pronouns are she/her

Physical description - I'm 5'9 and I have long and curly dark brown hair and brown eyes. I have a fair skin tone, I'm slim and I've got full lips and fairly large eyes. I also have these dimples that I really like!

I love reading, my favorite genres are poetry, Russian lit, and mysteries! I love learning about new things and knowing a little bit of everything. I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching films very much! It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people but once I do, I become really talkative and outgoing. I love helping out and I'm the therapist friend, people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm smart and ambitious; I love being the best at everything I do. I'm quite the hopeless romantic and I love being in love! I adore big and small romantic gestures and I love domesticity sm!! My love languages are acts of service and quality time. I'm a ravenclaw, my mbti is infp and my enneagram is 4w3!

Thank you very much!! I hope you have an amazing valentine's day regardless of dates and all!

<3

hi angel, thank you so much for sending this in! <3 false god is my fav song from lover too! it's so underrated.

i ship you with remus lupin!

remus and you would love to read and talk about the books the both of you picked up during the week. and during quiet rainy nights, you'd light up cinnamon candles, putting your head on his lap while he'd read to you, and playing with your gorgeous curls. BUT if the both of you picked up the same book, you'd have contrasting opinions about them and would banter endlessly about who's right and who's wrong. it was a tradition the both of you had since you were friends, but it didn't stop even after you started dating, because it was one of the roots of your relationship.

remus is the mastermind behind the shenanigans of the marauders, and the two of you would pull a few fairly devious pranks on your mates. maybe color sirius' hair in a fluorescent color or maybe change the power on james' glasses or maybe set a few harmless spiders under peter's bedclothing. it was all fun and games until it fired back on both of you.

the two of you have very intense conversations sometimes, discussing about mostly about psychology, literature and art. he likes to listen to you and your views about different aspects. and sometimes if you'd rant about something he didn't have an idea about, he'll learn about it and discuss it with you the other day (and vice versa).

remus loves to sketch, so maybe when you're daydreaming or sleeping, he'll sometimes sketch a portrait. but he'll never show you them, of course. because some of them he'd sketched when the both of you were friends. he didn't know you had your own stock of little paintings and poems about him where you describe every other feature of his in a mesmerizing way. eventually his secret is revealed, and so is yours.

remus wouldn't like your choice of music at the beginning. but it starts to grow on him over the time. because the music reminds him of you, and he feels it's a piece of you and your mind which he wants to keep close by him.

remus was never one for parties and neither were you. so the both of you sulk around when james and sirius run around like little children, drinking endlessly. it's not alcohol or any other substance to abuse, but it sure as hell feels like it. he'd very happy to say the least, to find a sulking partner at parties. it fuels his introverted side, because he knows once the both of you escape the party with pizza boxes tucked under your shirts, you'll open up once again and fill his eardrums with your voice.

at an aspect, of your love for him, it becomes like fire and ice. because he's loathing himself after a dreadful full moon, but you're sitting by him, taking care of him. it melts his poor heart how much you take care of him and how much you love him. but he thinks he doesn't deserve it. he thinks he's holding you bounded. he thinks he's being selfish. but you advice him, and even scold him a little, telling him that being selfish sometimes wouldn't harm anybody. you'd also tell him that if you wanted to not be with him you'd leave him in the blink of an eye. but you wanted him, and loved him, so he could hold you bound as long as he wanted to.

remus loves your affection. he likes how you remember certain details about him and do little things for him. he likes how you ask for permission before you hug him, because he's very sensitive to touch sometimes. he thinks he's living in one of the books the both of you made fun of one day.

all in all, the both of you are blissed with each other! <3

[munsonshire]

Hello! Can I please get a matchup for supernatural?

I'm a straight female and my pronouns are she/her

I'm 5'9 and I have long and curly dark brown hair and brown eyes. I have a fair skin tone, I'm slim and I've got full lips and fairly large eyes. I also have these dimples that I really like!

I love reading, my favorite genres are poetry, Russian lit, and mysteries! I love learning about new things and knowing a little bit of everything. I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching films very much! It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people but once I do, I become really talkative and outgoing. I love helping out and I'm the therapist friend, people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm smart and ambitious; I love being the best at everything I do. I'm quite the hopeless romantic and I love being in love! I adore big and small romantic gestures and I love domesticity sm!! My love languages are acts of service and quality time. I'm a ravenclaw, my mbti is infp and my enneagram is 4w3!

Thank you very much!

Anonymous x Supernatural Matchup

Hello there!! Here is your request, I hope you like it!!

Disclaimer: its been a long LONG time since I last saw supernatural, so keep this in mind hehe.

I believe you would match pretty well with Castiel.

Learning and knowledge

Castiel shares your intellectual curiosity and thirst for knowledge. We is constantly learning about the human world, pretty much like you enjoy knowing about different genres and subjects.

Also, his vast knowledge of everything, having been an angel that has lived for thousands of years would be amazing, he'd talk to you about so many topics most would include angel themes such as celestial lore or even the intricacies of angel weapons and so on.

You two would always (playfully) challenge each other on knowledge of different things

You'd also tease Cas a lot because of how outdated some of his information about human history is.

You'd provide a grounding presence for Castiel as he tries to understand and learn human emotions and relationships. While he would introduce you to the Supernatural aspects of the world (lets be honest, you'd be a hunter and his tips would be useful)

Potential Banter

Castiel's literal interpretations and occasional social awkwardness could lead to some truly hilarious moments.

Imagine trying to explain sarcasm or a pop culture reference – the possibilities for amusement are endless!

Also his straightforward nature and close to no filter when he talks would bring so many funny moments between you two, especially due to your playful personality. Also, expect the most unhinged comments ever

Your playful personality could help him loosen up and discover the joy of wordplay.

Artistic connection

Being an angel, Castiel's appreciation for art may not rely on human traditional art forms, though he does marvel at the complexity of human creations

You say you're interested in poetry and I can imagine Castiel asking you to recite one of your favorite poems to him. Then him being awestruck by the emotional depth of the poem you just read to him.

I believe he would be very interested in painting and sculpture, especially the ones based on angels and god (cuz he's an angel), enter The Piety by Michaelangelo or Crucifixión de San Pedro. Caravaggio (1601). He'd also be amazed by modern ways of painting, such as digital art, he can't quite grasp how it works but he likes learning about it.

You two go to a lot of museums

His ability to transport everywhere is beneficial, he'd take you to all the different libraries, museums, and historical buildings that you might want to visit

Challenges to overcome, growth Together:

Castiel's angelic nature can be a double-edged sword.

His loyalty to Heaven could create conflict if it ever clashes with your values

However, open communication and a willingness to understand each other's perspectives could lead to a deeper bond and a stronger relationship.

Your nurturing personality could be a balm to Castiel's struggles with understanding human emotions

As he opens up (slowly, but surely), you'd be there to offer support and guidance

In turn, his unwavering loyalty and angelic perspective could provide a sense of security and stability in your life.

The hopeless romantic meets the loyal angel:

Castiel, despite his initial awkwardness, is a deeply devoted being.

His angelic expressions of love might not be what you see in human relationships, but his unwavering loyalty and willingness to protect you speak volumes

Together, you could create a unique and beautiful love story, filled with grand gestures and quiet moments of domestic bliss.

I really hope you liked it, if there's something you'd like me to add, anything you don't like of somewhere where you want me to in-deep more just tell me!!

[minniepetals]

i’ve read lots of fics. from the very emm unorganised storyline, to perfecto storyline. or the messed up vocabulary/grammars to the most AI-like vocab and grammar fics. or the fluffiest fics to the most disgusting/ disturbing fics - i’ve read it all throughout my reading fanfics journey-

and i must say that cmar is really quiet the disturbing one- no hate though seriously, i just read all the genre and appreciate the story as it’s the art of literature in language and story. i love literature btw and right now pursuing my degree in this field.

thus im here just to share my two cents, that cmar is really quiet near to the masterpiece. why quiet near? because i have to wait till this piece of story finish- to comprehend the whole storyline and the ending. eheks- not doing research don worry, i just here learning to analyse since i have class that i learned how to analyse a poem/ stories etc. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ something akin to review ?? yes. and my prof said that to be a great writer you have to get feedback from readers- and i love you, ergo you know what i mean right ;)

what is disturbing? the character development. mc’s character quiet disturbing as she’s been through a lot of abusive past. also she lives is criminal environment, dark and vicious, thus i understand why she’s act like how she is. also, i like it how she stands up for herself even though she’s broken. she’s really strong for that even though i might say it’s 50-50 she’s strong yet she’s broke - so that’s a whole lot of a person could endure but she had it all.

what is more, the antagonists characters, her father, leehyun, karl, kihyun, etc- lots of them, like really lots- and honestly? i can’t keep track on them, and confused between these characters and their bad deeds. and i am so so sorry that sometimes i keep skipping some parts,thereby after awhile i go back and re read it again to understand the plot better-

sometimes i feel like, the focus on throwback were too much?? but somehow i feels like it’s necessary because the flashback will justify the current action why the characters do that. right?? but is there any other way to write it so that the readers don’t feel like to skip the part?? i’ve been meaning to ask that - welp it can be a question in my next class . :3

for the boys (our tannies) there’s not much i can say though, because there’s not much exposure on them for these few chapters- thus, im hoping in future chapters maybe?? well that’s up to you ;)

overall, i really hope that you take this as a compliment im so sorry if i misled or something but i am really said this as a compliment. because, i had this one assessment and i really tried hard to write something that out of my comfort zone. i was trying to write something like this for my assessment but my prof said that i don’t quiet reach there yet- thus i just opted to write something small and sad and not quiet like this, a bit shame on me but still got an A so yeah- ㅋㅋ

thereby, i really speak highly of you writing cmar. because it’s really fun reading it !! btw thanks for the update on new chapter <3

take care and stay healthy ❤️

asdfghjkl thank you for using your pursuit for literature and looking at my work through an analytical standpoint lmao. it's honestly so great to hear insight from the perspective of a reader. one thing i'd definitely like to note on is your point on the antagonists. i completely understand with just skipping over a few things when it comes to them, which is honestly fine lmao, i tend to do that when i'm ready other stuff as well. i'm not sure how i can write it in a way where you wouldn't feel like skipping through some stuff to be honest. y/n's traumas are highlighted through these antagonists and i guess when it comes to cmar, it just isn't your typical romantic fanfiction stuff. whereas many fics focuses on their y/n and the character they're writing the fanfic based on, or they just mainly focus on the boys in general, cmar's focus is on y/n and her trauma.

i guess you can say in a way, it's less fanfiction and more story-like, since there are insights into these antagonists, as well as y/n and her people, her reapers, instead of the main focus being on mending the relationship between y/n and the boys.

i do see that i definitely should incorporate more moments with the boys. next chapter focuses on one of the guys so you'll get that there.

all in all, i enjoy writing cmar so much, as difficult as it is, and having this part of the work (your analysis) is really nice and refreshing, so thank you for that 💛

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

A submission for @anikasenkujo​ ’s Valentine’s Event, a little bit late, but still here for the month of February~

Summary: Solara wonders about what she could do for Fue on Valentine’s Day, as he is usually the one to make plans. And eventually she simply asks him about how he would like to be loved on a day such as this during a conversation. 

Genre: Fluff with romance

Pairing: Fuegoleon (CC) x Solara (OC); Fuelara

Length: ~2.3k 

Warnings: Mmm maybe a theme of self-doubt if you squint

A year. It had been a year, or a little more that they had been married. Some would say that they were well on their way to the two year itch, she supposed. Though she liked to think that it was more so about two years of being in a relationship, rather than marriage.

But still. Most would probably argue that after so long of staying together, people fall out of love and into confines of routine. And it is because of that routine that it becomes harder to leave, as leaving would mean stepping into unknown. Thus, people simply continue on going through the motions, and stay together because it’s easy, simple, passable. There’s nothing particularly wrong, so why bother changing it?

Too often she had heard of people saying such things, though she couldn’t exactly say that her parents seemed like they were simply going through the motions. And she couldn’t say herself to be feeling in such a way; that she was simply going through the motions of marriage.

Yes, routine was routine, and everyday life was hardly anything… special, in a way at least. But there was comfort in it. A gentle lull into which to sink, and rest one’s head. A warm embrace on the road known as life.

Marriage, as much as the person she was married to, was home. Not just a place in which to be, because it was the only things she had grown to know.

It was, he was, home.

And she was happy.

Perhaps there should have been something grander that she should have strived for. Tried to be more romantic and forthcoming. She wasn’t quite sure. But maybe she should have tried to be something more.

People most definitely seemed to try to be something more.

And that was precisely the reason why on the 13th of February, as she sat by herself at a café, since she had simply wanted to get out the base, the headquarters and the castle, she looked at people going by with boxes of chocolates, plushies and flowers as they were getting ready for the next day. They were trying to rekindle something. Or maybe simply uphold the flame. Something that she couldn’t say was a bad thing. Oh heavens no.

Remembering your spouse, trying to build up the relationship and appreciating one and another were all wonderful things that ought to exist in a happy marriage. And so, she couldn’t say that the gestures, the people going by, were vain. Not for the reasons of wanting to show their appreciation to their loved ones.

But that brought forth another thought as she sat there, sipping her tea. The question of: “what should I do for him?”

They hardly had a routine when it came to dates, or traditions when it came to anniversaries or other such dates. But there had been smaller gestures. Gifts, celebrations… a dinner. But Fue had usually been the one to book them a restaurant, as he was more familiar with those in Clover.

Roses and heliotropes had been placed into their room again just the other day, so there was no need for more flowers. And she couldn’t say that he seemed like he would, particularly, enjoy flowers. The same came with sweets and plushies.

There was nothing that he needed. And though she did have something in mind for his birthday, although that wasn’t for a good six more months, this wasn’t a notable occasion enough to give it.

So, what could she do for him, on The Day of Love?

A poem? A letter? Both seemed rather foolish since they would get to see each other during the day, and he’d be busy with work. He always was. And so was she too, at least fairly busy. Though she couldn’t claim that her workload came even close to his, not these days anyways, even if she did her part to help around, sometimes even asking Randal if there was something more that she could do, because Fue had a bad habit of not giving her tasks she could complete if he thought her to have done enough already.

A smirk rose to her lips with the thought.

You really are stubborn. And … a fool, but in the best possible way, she mused within the confines of her mind. Because though she couldn’t blame him for not wanting to burden her with work, she felt like scolding him for it, as silly as it might have sounded. Since one isn’t supposed to scold their spouse for something nice they do. Even him distributing more work for her could translate into more together time.

Or not, if their schedules wouldn’t match up.

So, she supposed there was no way of telling if it was better this way. But she could always continue doing what she was already doing on that front. So, there was no real issue. They both did what they could.

And yet, she thought that she could do more.

She could, almost certainly, be a better wife, in some way. She could show her love and appreciation in some manner; more prominently, just to make sure that he knew.

But it’d have to be a gesture that wasn’t superficial, just for show. Something that would touch him, rather than give him flowers or chocolates or plushies at which he’d smile, he’d say ‘thank you’ and it’d be forgotten the next year.

Or… not downright forgotten, perhaps, but it wouldn’t be something he truly enjoyed. Not that she thought him to enjoy such gestures at least.

However… nothing more came to mind. And so, she wasn’t any more original than any of those people walking by with the traditional Valentine’s Day gifts. Instead, one could say that she was lacking, as she didn’t have even such a gift.

I could get one though… she pondered, thinking that perhaps she should regardless have something to present, despite it seeming hollow in comparison. But then again, what would he say if she was to present something like that to him?

“Thank you, but you didn’t need to get me anything.” It would be said with the best of intentions, but it would make the gesture seem… not useless, but something that was without special meaning. Not that he meant it like that. Of course he didn’t. It was simply a statement of ‘you didn’t need to’, which was true.

She didn’t need to.

But she wanted to.

She wanted to show him again, and again, and again, that she did love him. More than she could possibly say. Because words had fallen to be mere echoes in comparison to what she felt. The words were lacking, so very, utterly… horridly, lacking.

And yet she didn’t have much more to give him than those gentle love confessions, utterances spoken with words and whispers, or the little things she could do, here and there. It all felt so mundane, but… even so, the gestures, she thought, spoke more of her emotions than words ever could. Which is why, as she got up from the table and headed home, she decided that she’d continue to do those little things, of course.

Naturally. As obviously as she’d need to keep breathing.

But. She’d also tell it to him, later that evening, so that he might, perhaps, tell her just how he wanted to be loved on the Day Of Love.

Perhaps. So that she might. And even if he couldn’t tell her what he wanted, then maybe he’d understand the depths of her sentiment, as much as mortals can.

As much as mortals can, in their limited state of being that bears a kind of yearning for the other that one struggles to understand. Which sounded so awfully difficult to believe that at times even her herself had to question it; to feel so deeply and fondly for another. But. She felt it in her bones, beneath her skin within a place that couldn’t be touched by winter frost.

Maybe I’m simply lucky, she thought to herself, while wondering how she had come to such emotions. Because is it not a kind of luck, a blessing or alike, to feel such a way.

A faint smile, appeared on her lips as she made her way through the corridors of the Crimson Lion Kings’ headquarters, and with each step that took her closer to her husband’s office, the smile grew wider. Only a little bit, but it did. And she couldn’t help it, had she wanted to help it for some reason.

She knocked onto the door, and opened the door without waiting, just as he had told her for so many times already. ‘You are always welcome.’ ‘You don’t need to wait to come in, because you are my wife.’ ‘My office is much yours as it is mine.’ The last of the statements she didn’t think to be quite as true, but she understood the sentiment behind it; the sentiment that she could always come to him.

“Good evening love,” she greeted while closing the door behind her.

“Good evening,” he replied while glancing to her before looking back down onto the document he was working on. “I’ll be done in a short while,” he continued to assure, as if knowing, or thinking to know, what she was going to ask of him.

“Good,” she quite simply replied as the smile turned into a smirk. “You should get some rest.” She nearly scolded, but more so stated, as she knew, and he knew, that he would continue working hard for the sake of the kingdom. And they both knew, just as much, that she wouldn’t stop him of working towards his goals and dreams. But she would be there to remind him, yet again, for as many times as needed, that he needed to take time off for himself as well.

“I will,” he told her. “And we’ll have a full day off tomorrow,” he continued.

He really is going above and beyond, she thought to herself while feeling her heart becoming overwhelmed with love and affection. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow,” she admitted while taking a seat opposite to him on the other side of the desk.

“Oh?” He looked up from the document and put down the pen while studying her expression. His eyes travelled all around her face as a frown settled on his, one of concern.

“Mhm,” she hummed while reaching over the desk and taking a hold of his hand. “There’s something I needed to ask you…”

“Yes?” He took a hold of her hand as he fingers graced his skin, as if trying to assure her that he would keep a hold of her.

“You are… always the one making plans, and booking restaurants for days such as tomorrow,” she begun, while wondering if this was the best way to go about it.

“And you’d like to make plans for a change?”

“No, no,” she shook her head with a swaying motion.

“Then… perhaps you’d like me to make a reservation to a different establishment this time? It is a short notice but I supp-“

“No,no,” she chuckled as amusement seeped through the near melancholic state of her being.

“Then… what is the matter?” He asked while still wearing that concerned frown of his.

“I’m getting to that,” she noted with an amused smirk. “My point was that… you’re doing all these wonderful things to show me that you love me; making plans for occasions such as tomorrow… And I… can’t help but wonder how…” she wondered for a while about how to ask the question; how to formulate it? And in the end, she couldn’t think of another way of stating it, than simply stating it. “How would you like me to love you tomorrow?” Her eyes rose from the desk, and the hold of their hands, to his eyes.

And her eyes, they held implore to him. As if she was asking him to give her something, asking him to give her something so that she might give him back. But the strangest thing about that implore was the fact that he didn’t think she needed to give him anything more. She didn’t need to do anything else than love him just the way she had been loving him until then.

He didn’t think there was anything more he wanted. There was nothing more he could think to want from her. Quite simply, he just wanted her to love him.

“I…” he begun, closing his mouth for a while as he swallowed, eyes having fallen to the side, trying to choose the words that would flow past his lips; as he tried to think what on earth he could give her. When he couldn’t. He couldn’t give her anything more. “I want you to be there,” he told her, musing ever so slightly to himself.

And as his eyes rose back to look at her, they saw confusion; as if it had floated through the air from him to her.

“I simply wish that… you’ll be there. Just as you have been, until now,” he continued with a  smile, a faint smile that glimmered like the first ray of dawn, or like every good thing that had happened to her, all at once.

Her eyelids fell in a slow blink, as the frown of confusion melted away, seeping into thin air and disappearing from the room. “I wouldn’t dream of not being there,” she told him with a smirk, to which the reply came at first with a faint, pleased chuckle, and then in the form of him lifting her hand onto his lips.

“Good,” he said before placing a kiss onto the ring finger of her right hand, while the ring on the ring finger of his left pressed against her skin as well, as if placing another kiss at the same time.

[tentacledtherapist]

I find it so interesting that humans can grow hair in entirely different colors! Without having any sort of unusual coloration otherwise! It reminds me of how when animals get domesticated the three first things to show up are piebald or multicolor coloration, curly tails and floppy ears. Likely because the opposite of these things evolved for survival. Coats for camouflage, pointy or big ears to hear better, straight controlled tails for emoting and pheromone release. When they don't need these things to survive, of course they're easy to shed.

I mainly collect old books, though I do dabble in bookbinding myself. I am too anxious currently to try and repair any books myself without prior practice, despite knowing how to do so cover to cover. My oldest book is a bible from 1823. You'll find a lot of bibles survived because family records are often kept inside them. But honestly most of my books either hold personal significance or are fiction. My favorite... could it be a genre in a way? My favorite subject is everyday educational texts. I have old school books, books on cooking and sewing, flower meanings and gardening, tea parties and Ladies Etiquette. Books about how they used to live life. My current favorite, which I intend to read and reread, is a book on how to mourn your child from 1871. Each chapter is a question about grief and pain and love. It's sad, beautiful and sad, and a rare find.

As for poetry, I'm not a fan of one poet over another, really, though the romantics were like the first Goths so I have to give them credit. I tend to have the most impactful poems find me on their own, rather than by searching for them. I just find that poetry books hold a sort of emotional weight to them though, so I like to skim through them.

As for symbolism, I think I sort of understand the symbolism in it, beyond the obvious of "Trip to the Moon". You get the Frankenstein Bride hair which also emulates that of the animated woman at the beginning of the movie that Creature originally fell in love with. The Pabst dress probably is about how her experience that night was coated with alcohol and drugs. The scene mirrors the previous scene with Douchebag Doug, except shes with someone she actually wants to be with (the bust of Creature).They hold hands, differently to how Doug treated her by taking advantage of her weakness, where the gum is meant to be Creature taking care of her. The gum is because she threw up, and her accepting the gum is her accepting his affections.

The murderer under the bed was the same as the masked killer who killed her mom (I think?) It may be a sort of "I can't have nice things" feeling, mixed with "if he's already dead you can't kill him so I'm not afraid" hence why she has no reaction.

But this is just my thoughts.

- Creature

my white streak is a birthmark, i’m pretty sure. i’ve had it as long as i can remember? but it’s wild that these things just Happen sometimes. supposedly we do have stripes like a tiger or some other form of patterning, but it only shows up under uv light? i read that a while ago though, so take it with a grain of salt

yes yes yes on your analysis! i like hearing your thoughts about what all of it means. it’s nice to have more thoughts on it than just the ones inside my own head

it’s a scene that feels out of place at first and it’s so full of symbolism? i genuinely love it. the man under her bed is wearing the same mask as the man who killed her mom, and with the way he grabbed at their feet i always read lisa’s expression more as a “he’s here again/already?” for a split second, before swiftly being followed by “oh well. death is going to come eventually. at least i have this while it happens.” lisa does talk about her lack of fear of death later?

i like your thoughts on the gum. its the biggest thing i couldn’t quite figure out what i think it wanted to say, what i wanted it to say, ya know? i’m still pondering why it melted between their hands. maybe having something to do with the actual melty-sticky thing being a sort of ‘physical’ representation of their bond?

i like it. i like picking it apart. i notice new things every time i watch the movie, it’s great

on that same sort of thread: i think my favorite poet is probably john donne, because of how much you can dig into his poetry and peel it all apart at the seams. i like digging into things like that, though i don’t think there’s been any particular poem that’s fully rocked me to my core from him, though. like you said, it’s the poems you stumble into that really affect you

i think my oldest book is a worn down copy of ‘Les Mis’? i’m not sure of it’s exact print date off the top of my head, but it’s a favorite of mine. i dunno if it’s my favorite book of all time point blank period, but it’s up there! a lot of people get turned off of the book when i tell them there’s like 10 pages of ramblings about the parisian sewer system, but i genuinely like long winding prose. i like an author with a lot to say and a mind to do it. it’s in dire need of repair, but i sort of want to leather bind it, and i don’t currently have the skillset to do that

i’d call educational texts a genre! it’s got it’s own category at bookstores, so it’s genre enough for me. wild that it’s your favorite though. like a good wild. it’s not typical, but those books probably give the best insight into what life was like then. sort of like a window into, or back into, the past

- Lisa

[the-casbah-way]

Do you have any book recommendations that inspired your writing style? I’d love to know what kind of things you read

this is hard to answer because i'm not even sure if i have a writing style really. especially since i just write exactly the way i think in my own head if that makes sense. i also almost never read fiction either. that being said there are a few writers who i find remind me of what i would like my writing style to be like some day and who i think may have subconsciously influenced the way i write at least a little bit

carson mccullers does write in a way that really resonates with me and i think of her a lot when i write. she has a way of describing loneliness and the mundane that i feel is hard to find anywhere else. i really recommend the member of the wedding especially, but clock without hands and the heart is a lonely hunter are also very good

wilfred owen has a similar energy to me in a strange way, i know he's a poet not a novelist or anything but there is just something about the way he words things or rounds off phrases that sticks with me constantly (as in so constantly i have several tattoos planned that are just lines from his poems). i think his most well-known poems are fine but nowhere near his best; i would recommend strange meeting, futility and spring offensive but if you can also find an anthology that includes his fragmentary works (i saw his round mouth's crimson is my favourite) i cannot recommend them enough

tony kushner's angels in america is also something i think of a lot whenever i write anything. again this is not a novel but it's written in a way that i am obsessed with and i will genuinely think of it forever, it has had a huge impact on the way i write

kafka, leonard cohen and michael madsen (yes the actor. he writes poetry too) also all have writing styles that speak to me a lot

lastly i will say that my favourite novel of all time is the master of ballantrae by robert louis stevenson. i recommend it whenever i get the chance, and even though the writing style is vastly different to my own it is my favourite piece of writing ever so i have to mention it here. i can't say if you'd enjoy it if you aren't already relatively familiar with the scottish romantic genre (it's a satire of that) but there are still some one-liners in there that i will think of til the day i die

[i23kazu]

I LOVE YOU STILL (oh, you know i always will.)

warnings – none. characters – zhongli, xiao, ayato, kazuha, childe, kaeya, diluc x gn!reader. genre – romantic fluff. a/n – aaaaa. aaa | please reblog!! it rly helps a starter blog like me ><

[zhongli. | 钟离]

zhongli enjoys seeing your face light up with the gifts he purchased. being a regular customer with connections ensures that this man gets your gifts at a discounted price. small trinkets get passed to you regularly, be it from a present at your desk or even asking venti to use the wind to shift the gift towards you, just to hear your chuckle. some things he loves giving you include our favourite tea flavour – often imported; sweets, and that particular set of stationery you love that is from inazuma. being a distant friend of a certain electro archon yields its benefits.

[xiao. | 魈]

xiao shows his love to you in the smallest of ways; whether you see it or not, that's up to you. he's not one to show big gestures – he'd rather smaller ones that you continually appreciate him for. he gently plucks the pretty flowers from the soil that passed through his master's hands eons ago, smiling as he ties them together with scraps of twine that he found in verr goldet's desk. it makes a good gift, he thinks. he likes seeing your face light up as you look at the wrapped bundle of flowers on your tableside. and the kisses that follow after.

[k. ayato. | 神里綾人]

ayato loves being sneaky – he presses kisses to your cheek when he sees you deep in thought, or lays his head on your shoulder while you're working on something for the yashiro commission, or even poking your cheek when talking to his sister. ayato loves cuddling up to you in the morning as well, in secret – where no one can see this particularly soft side of the kamisato clan's head. he loves surprising you with these small acts of affection and he loves seeing the smile on your face as you recognise your lover.

[k. kazuha | 楓原万葉]

kazuha likes creating poems and songs for you – you're his muse. he weaves his words and breathes his creations to life, watching your eyes light up in recognition of the little things the two of you do, enchanted to a melody. every line is crafted to pertain to a quirk of yours, his words always beautifully strung to portray you as the most beautiful person in teyvat – because that's what you are, in his own eyes. he loves you so very much and isn't afraid to show it to anyone he meets.

[childe.]

childe loves waking up next to you in the morning, your face usually buried in the crook of his neck. it guarantees him kinks in the neck for the next day, but he doesn't mind – as long as you're comfortable, he says. he loves snuggling you for the first few hours minutes of the day, watching your sleep-drowsed face slowly start to wake up in the presence of your lover. he can see the joy in your movements as you reach your arm out to touch his. he whispers "i love you" over and over again.

[kaeya.]

kaeya enjoys going big for dates – he likes setting up that big picnic blanket jean got for him when she first heard about your relationship. he loves to dig out that rattan picnic basket gifted to you from lisa – he assumes that the congratulatory gift is a joint effort from the two women. drinks, dishes, candy, fruit, and such fill the basket, a plethora of wonderful-smelling things making his eyes gleam with excitement at the reminder that he'd be spending an entire wonderful day with you.

[diluc.]

diluc particularly loves cooking and crafting drinks for you. he loves sprinkling his food with salt love and seeing your hand reach for the food he lovingly made for you. the man is a good cook – his tastebuds consist of dishes from all over teyvat, so exotic dishes typically have a place at the dining table. he has a special reverence for liyuean food, and would try his best to recreate the chihu-rock-famous (oh, who are we kidding. he's known all over teyvat!) chef's creations. you love his food, and he's always happy to cook for you.

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[thepixelelf]

and the universe said,

03 "this day will make the you of tomorrow"

genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery chapter warnings: language, relationship(s): ot13 x reader

When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren't -- and that's before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.

series masterlist

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It’s not lost on Lee Jihoon that, even though he's written love songs since he was fifteen and poems even before that — which is privileged information he’ll never share with anyone — he’s only been in love once.

And he’s grateful for that. Sometimes he thinks about her; about what kind of life he’d be living if certain things went certain ways. And he smiles. Not because she was beautiful — which she was — or because in his imagination, he acted braver — which he didn’t — but because even though that love would never know if it was returned, he still felt it. He knew it was real. It was at once an infinitely warm and bitingly cold feeling. Jihoon’s written quite a few songs from that first and last love.

Except, he doesn’t think that was his last love. Not really. Maybe it’s true in the romantic sense, but…

He won’t say it, of course. What he feels for his members. His friends. His brothers.

No… no. Speaking it out loud is unnecessary.

Mingyu’s hand grabs his, encasing it in a soft but tight grip as Yejung calls for the attention of the room. Jihoon doesn’t squeeze back, but his thumb lightly curls around Mingyu’s palm.

“If there really is a person that’s attached to all of you through your marks, we need to plan a course of action.” Yejung fidgets with her hands, and Jihoon can tell she wishes she was pointing at a slideshow on the wall and showing them interaction rates, rather than this unquantifiable soulmate business.

“We still don’t have a dating ban here,” Myungjun says, arms crossed as he lets his eyes roam to each of the boys. “But I think we all know what happens when famous heartthrobs get hitched. I was never worried about it before because you’re all, frankly—” He glances at Jihoon. “—bitchless, but…”

Chan makes an affronted sound, and someone whines, “Hyung!”

Jihoon can only hold in a pout because Myungjun looked at him when he said that, and he’s right.

Yejung lightly smacks Myungjun’s shoulder. “What we’re trying to say is this: Seventeen’s ratings are skyrocketing because of this whole soulmate thing,” she explains. “But I can’t imagine those numbers moving in a positive direction if these fans find out your marks connect you to someone unfamiliar rather than each other.”

Myungjun nods. “Whatever outcome, it wouldn’t be good.”

“Don’t Carats want us to be happy?” Seokmin dares to ask.

“Well—” Yejung's expression turns pained. “Yes, it’s just that—”

“You guys are one of the biggest kpop acts on the block right now,” Myungjun supplies easily. “Despite how good I’m sure most of your fans are, there will always be people who aren’t. Just a few bad apples can spoil the bunch.”

Yejung clarifies, “It’s about safety and privacy. There are sasaengs who follow you around and take pictures without your consent. There are people who would do anything to support their favourite celebrities, including defaming you guys by any means necessary. The internet is a powerful weapon. Who’s to say it won’t be used against you because of this?”

No one argues with that. Each of the members has dealt with the bad side of the internet more than once, if in different ways. Though none of them refute what Yejung said, it’s her next question that really gets their minds turning.

“Who’s to say your soulmate won’t get hurt?”

Your soulmate.

Jihoon’s soulmate.

Hurt? No.

No no no no no.

A rising panic stains the room, and Yejung and Myungjun share a look that all but a few miss.

“Which—” Yejung puts more volume into her voice to grab the attention of the members, and maybe to pull them away from whatever spiralling they were about to do. “—is why we’re asking you all to just lay low for a while.”

“Lay low?” Junhui echoes.

Myungjun nods again. “For now, the short-term plan is to continue propagating the idea that you’re all each other’s platonic soulmates.”

“Just while research is still being done,” Yejung says. “It also gives us at the company an opportunity to figure things out in the meantime.”

Seungcheol’s brows furrow, suspicious. “What are you asking us to do to” —he puts his fingers up in air quotes— “‘lay low’?”

Myungjun and Yejung share another look, and he sighs, knowing that he’s better adept to being the bearer of bad news.

“Don’t go looking for your soulmate.”

The room practically bristles.

Yejung puts both her hands out, as if the irritation in the air is something she can actually push down. “Actively,” she clarifies. “Don’t go actively searching for this person. The last thing we want is to stop you guys from finding, uh, love, but… you can understand how weird this all is, right? The entire situation is a grey area.”

For the first time since this whole meeting started, Jeonghan actually looks a bit put off. "But they're my soulmate," he says, ignorant to the way some of the boys react to his use of the word my.

"They're also an unknown variable," Myungjun replies. He too ignores the mumbles and grumbles of the members; he's had years of practice with that. "This is nowhere near the same thing as one of you having a secret boyfriend or girlfriend or partner. You guys are all connected to this person. We can't just walk into this blind. One wrong move, and your soulmate’s well-being could be at stake. If worst comes to worst, they might be forced to forget what ‘privacy’ even means.”

Jihoon can tell, easily, Myungjun is weaponizing the safety of his — their soulmate to influence their compliance, but shit, it works. He feels something itching under his skin, an urge to protect someone he doesn’t even know. “Okay,” he says.

Scandalized, Soonyoung gapes at Jihoon like he just claimed something truly offensive like, actually, tigers aren’t that cool. “Jihoon! You can’t be serious— my soulmate is waiting for me!”

Everyone’s getting a little too cozy with this whole my business…

But Jihoon just shrugs, his face the picture of stoicism and maturity. “It’s just for now.”

“Just for now,” Yejung reassures.

Seungcheol nods, his lips in a contemplative pout rather than the typical whining one. “You’re right,” he cedes to the staff. “It’ll be a media circus if word gets out.”

“Wouldn’t it be worth it?” Vernon asks no one in particular.

He doesn’t get an answer.

Myungjun clears his throat. “Look, we’re just asking for some time here. Everything I’ve heard about soulmates suggests that you will find this person, whether you go looking for them or not. I, for one, want to be prepared for when — not if — that happens.”

Relaxing a bit in his chair, Seokmin lets out a tiny sigh through his nose. He looks at his hands in his lap for a second, then back up at Myungjun. “Promise?”

Yejung seems to find relief in the gradual lessening of tension in the room, and she smiles. “Promise.”

Jihoon watches the way Seokmin’s smile grows, then gets pushed back as Seokmin tries and fails to hide his giddiness as he looks down at his lap again. The idea that this fated meeting is, well, fated is eliciting a similar reaction in many of them.

“For what it’s worth,” Myungjun cuts into whatever the heck is happening between the boys without care. “We’re asking you guys not to look for them, but if they find you…” He lets out a half-chuckle. “Well, not much we can do about that.”

⭒

Writer’s block is certainly not something Jihoon’s never dealt with, but as he sits there in his studio, one hand hovering over the keyboard and the other clutching uselessly to the mouse he hasn’t done anything with except swirl around for the last hour, he wonders if it’s ever been as bad as this. The same pressure as always weighs upon him. More songs. More hits. More collabs. More More More More More.

It’s strange, though. He’s had days where he’s not coming up with anything. Weeks. He’s gone through longer droughts, so why is this one night making his entire body ache? Why does the dull pain seep from his chest to the tips of his fingers?

He wants to write for you, but he doesn’t know who you are.

“Hyung?” Seungkwan pokes his head into the studio, hair still mussed from when he woke up. “Have you been here all night? It’s almost eight.”

Jihoon just grimaces in response, and Seungkwan clicks his tongue.

“And you say you love sleep so much… tch. We have that radio appearance in three hours, so I was sent to save you from yourself. The makeup team can take care of those dark eyebags” 

Though he could probably use the rest, Jihoon pinches the skin around his wrist to keep himself from falling asleep in the van as it gets driven from the salon to the broadcasting station. If he falls asleep now, it’ll be a whole hassle to get him back up and alert again.

He stares at his mark. The five straight lines just sit there, blank.

His soulmate hasn’t sang in a couple days — not since that meeting about them.

Jihoon has to wonder. Do they not know how the mark shared between them and the rest of the members works? Or… are they doing it on purpose? To sever the mark before it can lead him anywhere.

It’s almost like they know.

Oh? Your company doesn’t want you to find me? You got it, boss. Never liked singing anyway.

He has to admit, though, his soulmate didn’t sing much before, either. When he could catch his mark playing, it never lasted long, but he always pulled his phone out anyway to record it on video. He would play the video back, humming along to a clef and key he’d have to guess, then sing what he’d come up with into google and hope for the best. A couple of Day6 songs, some American artists, one Mozart and one Beethoven, some tunes he couldn’t even identify — maybe they sang out of key or just skipped notes they didn’t feel like hitting. He could hardly blame his soulmate for not singing every day. It’s not everyone’s job.

But if they know their soulmate can see it… wouldn’t they sing at least a little?

Jihoon is hungry.

“I would kill for an iced coffee right now,” Seungkwan says from the backseat.

Joshua doesn’t look up from his phone. “There will be some at the venue.”

“But their coffee always tastes so bad.” Wrinkling his nose, Seungkwan crosses his arms. “It’s like ninety-nine percent water, and then they pour it over a full cup of ice.”

“It’s free. What do you expect?” Jeonghan counters.

Seungkwan frowns. “Coffee.”

Seokmin opens his mouth to join the budding conversation, but he stops short when Jihoon groans out, “Can we pull over?”

Their driver meets Jihoon’s eyes in the rearview mirror, a bit surprised. She asks, worried, “Are you okay?”

“Just wanna grab something to eat.”

The car pulls up in front of a cafe, which looks empty enough for the staff member in the driver’s seat to give it their stamp of approval. The boys don’t generally run into trouble in public eateries, but they still try to be careful.

“I’m going to park around the corner,” the driver tells him.

“Get me an iced coffee while you’re in there!” Seungkwan yells out the window after Jihoon slides the van door in his face.

Jihoon lifts one non-committal hand halfway up in the air as he walks off, not caring if Seungkwan sees it or not.

Neither the coffee shop nor its menu are anything to write home about, but Jihoon stands patiently in line while the person in front of him tries to explain to the tired barista that they had to have the drink they want in stock because they ordered it last time, while the barista calmly states that they’ve never even heard of a frappu-cappu-latte. He eyes the pastries and sandwiches in the display case, and when the customer in front of him finally walks out with a huff, he orders something to eat for himself and a coffee for Seungkwan. Not because of feelings-that-shall-not-be-named, of course. Jihoon just felt like it is all.

He’s about to walk out when that familiar sensation pinches at his right hand, and he looks down at his mark. Notes, for the first time in 79 hours — not that he’s been counting — flit across the staff, and his eyes widen. With his left hand, he puts down the paper bag with the sandwich in it and pulls out his phone, ready to record the music, but he pauses. He recognizes the notes. It’s easy to read because it’s playing right now.

A soft rock song plays quietly through the cafe speakers, going on about zombies or something, and it corresponds exactly with the notes on the hand still holding Seungkwan’s precious coffee.

Jihoon whips his head up and around, desperate for something or someone just on the tip of his tongue. There aren’t that many people in the coffee shop, and he can quickly tell that neither the barista nor the old couple sitting in the corner are singing.

He sees your back first, your face hidden as you look out the window, and then he hears it.

Slowly, he approaches behind you, your humming becoming more and more clear with each step. He wants to roll around in a field of your voice. He wants to drink it like warm soup.

What the fuck? He needs to get his shit together.

Say hello, his brain oh so helpfully supplies. Don’t be weird.

And he means to. He really does. Jihoon is mature and chill and calm under duress. He’s pined after by millions. He’s humble and cool.

He’s pouring Seungkwan’s coffee on you.

Your entire body jolts, your drink flying out of your hand before you turn around with shock and fury mixed in your eyes.

Oh, god, your eyes.

“What the fuck!” you blurt out, and Jihoon’s eyes flick down to his hand, where the notes have disappeared and left only the five lines behind.

You’re real, you’re here, and—

“Hello?!”

—and you’re extremely pissed at him.

“Shit,” he whispers, so quiet even he can barely hear it, and no one could tell he’s saying anything underneath his mask. “Fuck. Shit. Fuck.”

“Why would you do that?!” You step closer to him, and in the back of his mind, Jihoon registers that he’s crushed both the cup in his right hand and the lid in his left. You squint, eyes skirting over his facial features not hidden by his mask. “Do I even know you?”

Jihoon stumbles back, half because this is exactly what his company told him not to do, and half because he’s incredibly intimidated. “I… I’m— Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean? Didn’t mean to straight up pour your coffee on me?”

Intelligently, he says, “It’s not my coffee.”

You scoff in clear disbelief, and Jihoon wants to smack himself. Lifting your hand, you open your mouth to no doubt tell him off some more — well deserved, honestly — but an alarm sounds. Gasping, you turn around and hurry back to your table, grabbing your phone and silencing the alarm with a quiet, “Damn it.”

Jihoon can only stand, frozen, while you quickly pack up your things. You almost speed-walk right past him to leave, but then you seem to change your mind, a determined frown of your face.

Weird how that’s cute, too.

“Give me your phone.” You hold your hand out.

Jihoon blinks. “My…?”

“Phone,” you finish for him, moving your fingers as if to say, come on, hand it over.

Well. How can he argue with that?

You type something into his phone that he can’t see because he’s busy being stupefied.

“Here.” You click his phone off and hand it back to him. “If you block me, I’ll kill you.”

And then you’re gone.

Jihoon just stands there, in the middle of the cafe, his phone in his hand and the plastic cup abandoned on another empty table.

On his phone, a text thread is open to an unknown number. Only one message has been sent, technically from him.

I’ll pay you back for the shirt

He stares at the text for a good while, a text from his soulmate to his soulmate.

Holy fuck this is his soulmate’s number.

Jihoon’s gawking is only interrupted by a message popping up over the unknown number.

[jeonghan] staff says get back here or we’re gonna be late

When Jihoon returns to the van, not just Seungkwan, but he and the rest of the vocal unit all give him a weird look. He’s holding his phone close to his chest, clutched so tight between his fingers you’d think it’s made of pure gold.

Yejung’s words from the meeting, right before dismissing everyone for the day, echo in the back of his mind.

“If you do happen to cross paths with your soulmate, tell us immediately. We need to keep this in-house.”

Jihoon smiles, almost a breath of a laugh, and he shakes his head to himself.

Oppositely, Seokmin frowns, and he leans closer to Joshua to stage-whisper, “I think he’s more sleep-deprived than we thought.”

Seungkwan addresses it directly, though. He scrutinizes Jihoon’s free hand, which is, well, free. 

“Did you even buy anything?”

⭒

In the cafe, a tired, broke, just-trying-to-get-through-college barista mops the floor clean of two drinks, muttering, “One more weirdo and I’m quitting this fucking job.”

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updates for and the universe said, are not on a schedule. there is no taglist. thank you for reading!

[ajaxeology]

6:35PM [Kazuha]

genre: angst

c/w: separation

note: note: so @rxspbrrry and I had a small discussion about Kazuha. Also shoutout to her for beta-reading this , lovE UUU MWAHH AAAAAA. Sorry to those affected by the repost!

You detest the sun for how it sprints across the sky. It wasn't that long ago the sun stretched its rays from the horizon. But somehow you are already at the harbour watching the golden orb tuck itself under its blanket.

Annoyance scalds your chest because you still don’t have an answer even after a whole day. What is it that is between you and Kazuha? Friends? Best friends? Lovers? Even the salty air in the space between the two of you doesn't know.

That scene repeats in your head again. When you told him you loved him just before he left because of the Vision Hunt Decree. You watched his back as he walked away, blending into the sea of people before he vanished from your sight. Even though he said that he loved you the same way, just like how a tree loves the sun.

You redirect your anger towards the Raiden Shogun. If only she did not order the Vision Hunt Decree, it would have been different. 

During the decree, you received occasional letters from him. His words are devoid of any romantic love and the thought crushes your cracked heart into itty-bitty pieces. But in between the ink of the poem he's written for you, you think he loves you. Again and again, you pick up the shattered pieces and put them together again with gold.

The only reminder of Kazuha's presence beside you are the light thuds of his steps on the boardwalk. The distant orders of Captain Beidou to her crew grow louder, serving as a cruel reminder of another looming separation. 

When you no longer hear his footsteps, it pulls you out of your mind.

He's always wandering, always moving towards a new destination. So when he stops for no apparent reason, it alarms you. You turn and finally look him in the eye ever since the two of you separated from the others.

Ruby-red. It reminds you of the red you see when you think of him.

Ruby-red. It reminds you how beautiful he is. You don’t know if you can pay the price of loving a diamond like him. One that shimmers with a new kaleidoscopic pattern every time you look at it.

But you don't see the sorrow and remorse that swirls in those red eyes. The breeze has been screaming to him that it is his fault you carry your heavy heart through the days. The salt in the air pricks his eyes, demanding him to return the silent tears that soak your pillowcase in the night.

He sees the red of his eyes in yours, its shade matching the maple leaves that fall behind you. It’s going to be another goodbye again. Kazuha suppresses the urge to take his hand in yours. A touch of you before he departs miles away from you again.

A moment of only the crash of waves lapses. You ask him what’s wrong and he lies that the maple leaves seem to have given him a new idea for a new poem. Forcing a chuckle, you start inching towards the Alcor with him.

He has one foot on the first step when he reaches the stairs that ascend to the deck. Turning back, he asks you if there's anything you want to tell him.

Maybe, just maybe, he would try to stop his feet from running where they please if you asked. Stop trying to run away to another corner of the world, where he'll eventually leave again. 

If you had nothing to say, he’d tell you to forget him.

You feel your desires overflow the bottle you've shoved them all into.

"Stay."

Is what you want to say. But you keep your lips zipped for the weightless word will hold him down as an immovable mountain when you let it loose.

Kazuha is wrong for saying that he loves you like how the tree loves the sun, you think.

You're the tree that stays anchored; feeling the wind come and go. You're the shore that does not move; welcoming the sea when it washes up on the sand and giving farewell when it resides. No matter how hard you clutch onto him, he'll slip through the gaps that you can't see with your naked eye.

"Make sure to send me letters. I’ll be here when you visit again."

Kazuha smiles sadly. He leans down to the crown of your head, lips hovering above your skin. His breath fans your forehead as he asks, “May I?”

He does not have the heart to tell you to forget him and for once, he sees himself as a selfish fool. Unwilling to let go of a gem he cannot appreciate. It’s a pity that he’s the one you love.

You hum. He gives a kiss on your forehead, so light it could have been a feather’s tip brushing against your skin. When he can no longer see the docks from the top of the ship’s mast, the taste of you is already a faded photograph in the museum of his mind. An exhibit he has already made himself walk past.

[ddwcaph-game]

Party Members

Everyone on this list (except Kuya/Ate Paddy) are available as crush options for the MC! If you're not interested in crushes or puppy love, don't worry! Most friendship scenes will play out similarly, whether you have a crush or not.

The interactive desktop version of the characters page can be found here!

THOMAS RYAN HART DELA CRUZ Level 12 Adventurer

PRONOUNS: He/Him FAVE GENRES: Fantasy, Adventure, Romance

MBTI TYPE: ENFP ENNEAGRAM TYPE: 7w6 ZODIAC SIGN: Pisces

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Quality Time IDEAL FRIEND: Silly, Stubborn

The group baby. Wayne is an attention seeker who wants to have fun all the time. He’s the type of friend who will do the stupidest things just because it’s stupid, but he can also be very stubborn when he believes he’s right. For him, there’s always somewhere to explore and something exciting to do.

Wayne lives with his over-protective father, after his mother broke up with him. While silly and very playful, he is also a closet mama’s boy, who loves to write poems and wishes to build a flying ice cream truck someday with his Mommy.

He is the shortest student in your grade, and he says it’s because he’s a leap day baby, and that he spent all his skill points in charisma instead of height. He is a romantic at heart and loves teasing his bestfriend-since-preschool and waltz dance partner, Roselyna.

“Wayne” is actually just a nickname given to him by Roselyna because of an inside-joke between them during preschool.

(You can learn more about Wayne in the MC’s diary in-game.)

PRIMROSE EVELYN AGUSTIN DEL ROSARIO Level 12 Teacher

PRONOUNS: She/Her FAVE GENRES: Fairytales, Fantasy, Romance

MBTI TYPE: ENFJ ENNEAGRAM TYPE: 2w3 ZODIAC SIGN: Pisces

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Physical Touch IDEAL FRIEND: Emotional, Altruist, Knowledgeable

The group mom. Roselyna’s motto in life is, “Eat, Pray, Hug!”. Rosie is an altar girl who loves eating sweets (especially ice cream), and likes to describe herself as “huggable and fluffy”. She is a total cuddlebug who doesn’t know the meaning of personal space.

Even though Roselyna is emotionally sensitive and a bit of a crybaby at times, she’s the glue keeping (or hugging) the group together whenever there’s an argument. She likes to please people due to her insecurities, but she can be spoiled and manipulative at times, especially towards her parents, who adopted her after she was abandoned in a church in Samar as a baby.

Roselyna has been bestfriends with Wayne since preschool, and wishes she had a brother like him. Her dream is to be a teacher someday (if she can’t be a fairytale princess, of course).

The nickname ‘Roselyna’ is a portmanteau of her given and middle names. It’s pronounced “row-sel-LEE-na��.

(You can learn more about Roselyna in the MC’s diary in-game.)

LILYANNE PUNZALAN Level 13 Detective

PRONOUNS: She/Her, They/Them (Starting Vol. 5) FAVE GENRES: Sci-Fi, Mystery

MBTI TYPE: ISTP ENNEAGRAM TYPE: 5w6 ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Acts of Service IDEAL FRIEND: Honest, Independent

Lily is the de facto leader, as well as the tallest and oldest member of Friends 6Ever, much to JM’s chagrin. She established the group back in Grade 2, after becoming partners with JM in a quiz bee, and meeting Wayne in the Scouting Club.

Lily is the class secretary, and acts as the group’s secret-keeper. She likes to play detective, and tries to spend as much time as possible away from her adoptive mothers, who don’t want her to find out what happened to her birth parents. She has also made up a party game called “The Secret Exchange”, where the birthday celebrant exchanges secrets with the group members.

Lily is an outspoken introvert, but she prefers the term “selectively social”. She frequently engages in a friendly competition with JM, and always teases him whenever she knows something he didn’t.

She is keeping an eye on you. Just kidding. Mostly.

(You can learn more about Lily in the MC’s diary in-game.)

JOHN JESSE MICHAEL MAGBANTAY JR. Level 11 Film Director

PRONOUNS: He/Him, They/Them (Starting Vol. 5) FAVE GENRES: Mythology, Supernatural

MBTI TYPE: ISTJ ENNEAGRAM TYPE: 3w4 ZODIAC SIGN: Aquarius

LOVE LANGUAGE: Words of Affirmation IDEAL FRIEND: Disciplined, Sensible

The group dad and youngest member of the group. Proud class president, student council president and future valedictorian.

JM is your typical overachiever—he often stresses himself out with extra-curricular activities, but he’s mostly doing it to earn his father’s love and trust, who sees him as an unwanted child from his now missing mother. He also lives with his surprisingly not-evil step-mother, and his naughty and nice step-siblings, Brandon and Beatrice.

Although he’s very strict when it comes to enforcing the class rules, he is also very dependable and willing to help and tutor other students. While he only tolerates Wayne and Lily’s antics because they’re friends, he grudgingly admits that school life would be boring without them.

(You can learn more about JM in the MC’s diary in-game.)

BRANDON/BEATRICE GARDNER Level 12 Architect

PRONOUNS: He/Him (Brandon), She/Her (Beatrice) FAVE GENRES: Superheroes

MBTI TYPE: INTJ ENNEAGRAM TYPE: 6w5

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Gifts IDEAL FRIEND: Honest, Silly, Emotional

The group’s nemesis and JM’s step-sibling. B’s jealousy of JM’s success in academics and school politics have made them bitter and hostile towards him and the group.

But when a chance encounter with B leads to them admitting that they’re a former member of the group who never wanted to start the rivalry in the first place… Will you trust and help them figure out why they were cast out of the group, or are they just trying to break the group apart?

Brandon and Beatrice are two different characters, but who is which depends on your choice. The other one you don’t pick will be JM’s supportive little step-sibling.

(You can learn more about Brandon/Beatrice in the MC’s diary in-game.)

THEODORE PATRICK/THEODORA PATRICIA VILLANUEVA Level 17 Student

PRONOUNS: He/Him (Patrick), She/Her (Patricia) FAVE GENRES: Fantasy, Adventure, Slice-of-Life

MBTI TYPE: INFP ENNEAGRAM TYPE: 9w1 ZODIAC SIGN: Pisces

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Physical Touch IDEAL FRIEND: Warm, Silly, Emotional

The twins’ 17-year-old cousin. They may be a little irresponsible at times, but they treat their twin cousins as their own siblings, mostly because they grew up as an only child. Ever since the twins’ mother left, they’ve been the one telling them bedtime stories, although they’ve been busy with school work recently.

They may seem like a gentle giant at first glance, but anyone who messes with their little ‘goobers’ will quickly learn to regret it.

(You can learn more about Patrick in the MC’s diary in-game.)

CORDIFOLIA JAY MIMIDAE Level 22 Warden

PRONOUNS: She/Her STORY WORLD OF ORIGIN: Wayne's Story World (Vol. 2) SPECIES: Half-Dwarf, Half-Halfling

MBTI TYPE: INFJ ENNEAGRAM TYPE: 1w2 AVIAN STAR SIGN: Psittacine

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Gifts, Acts of Service IDEAL FRIEND: Warm, Altruist

Cordifolia (better known as Cordelia) is the daughter of Blueberry Mimidae-Goldberg-Corvidae and Huckle Mimidae, two of the founders of D' Warblings Refugee Camp. While Cordelia has her halfling mother's warm, understanding, and caring nature, she has also her dwarf father's fierce protectiveness and unyielding determination. Although she might appear shy compared to her more outgoing parents, she loves getting to know people and learning what brought them to the camp.

Delia works as a cook and tea brewer at her parents' treehouse, the HuckleBerry Inn and Tavern. While she enjoys the peace and frequent gatherings, she feels uneasy and longs to leave the camp—something her father is adamantly against. She wants to venture out into the world to help other people with her abilities, partly because of the call to adventure, and partly to stop the rising tensions between the dwarves and the halflings that drove her mother to live away from the camp and have another flock.

Delia is an apprentice at the nature and healing branches of Avian magic, which she inherited from her mother. She's not an expert singer like her mother is, so she uses her ocarina instead to harness the healing and protective properties of Avia's winds. Although she views violence as a last resort, she is still very much capable of defending herself, having learned various fighting techniques from her Papa.

She also has a pet cockatoo griffin named Odora, which she unknowingly tamed as a toddler after her father caught one from the wild. Dore grew to be protective of Delia, often taking her and her father together to fly and do tricks around the camp, sometimes recklessly as Dore has come to expect Delia's healing aid. She also tends to a hanging garden in their treehouse, her favorites being two Ardan flytraps she has named Goneril and Regan.

Cordelia is slightly muscular and quite tall for a dwarpling—she is slightly taller than Goldilocks-height MC at 22 cycles old, which is roughly 13 Earth years.

While having crushes isn't necessarily on her mind right now, Delia would love to have a girl (or someone non-binary) to go along with her on her adventures. That's how her parents met, after all (or maybe her Papa was exaggerating again)…

(You will be able to meet Cordelia in Volume 2.)

CHAMYRRHA Level 6000 Angel

PRONOUNS: Any Pronouns (Usually She/Her) STORY WORLD OF ORIGIN: JM's Story World (Vol. 5) SPECIES: Angel

MBTI TYPE: ESFP ENNEAGRAM TYPE: 7w8

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Quality Time, Words of Affirmation (Receiving) IDEAL FRIEND: Silly, Altruist

The silliest and most talkative angel you'll ever meet. Chamyrrha may be an angel, but she's more of a mischievous imp when it comes to her personality. Her powers of divine intervention were taken from her long ago for her tendency to disobey rules, as well as granting wishes only meant as a joke.

Since then, she has been wandering the spiritual realms looking for lost souls to comfort and guide into the afterlife. While mostly a thankless job, she has enjoyed doing so for millennia, and she still gets genuinely excited whenever she meets a new person, even if she never meets them again. That's better than being a guardian angel and not being able to do anything fun, anyway.

She can no longer perform miracles, but she has kept most of her abilities as an angel, such as selective invisibility, omnilingualism, and being able to know people's thoughts. In fact, she often forgets that other people can't do that, so she tends to ramble and get distracted talking to a person's thoughts before they even have a chance to speak. She's also of the idea that anything sounds good if you sing it loud enough.

Cham most often presents herself as a young, chubby child wearing a sky blue robe, as she has found out that it's what most people are comfortable with, but they have no problem switching his appearance from person to person as angels don't really have gender. Just don't call her a cherub—cherubim have four faces and multiple wings—and frankly, she gets tired of explaining it all the time. A part of her right wing has been bitten off by a lost Ci Annwn, which has now become her (equally distractable) travel companion.

Although she can be scatterbrained at times, Cham can focus if she really wants to, and she has an impressive memory. Over time, she has grown to be fascinated with magic, weird bugs and critters, and especially machines and clockwork. Through her experiences talking with the lost souls she meets, she has gathered enough knowledge to build gizmos, and even a small biplane, as she has difficulty flying long distances with her broken wing. Besides, if Charon has a boat, why can't she have a biplane?

As a human, Cham appears as a tall and chubby girl with blue eyes, fair skin, and wavy medium-long golden brown hair, although… you might be able to slightly influence her appearance later.

Cham has no preference when it comes to crushes, but that's mostly because she's totally oblivious to it. She knows what it is, he knows why it is, but they don't know how it is. What is this "love" everyone keeps talking about, anyway? How is it the best thing in the world if people fight over it?

(You will be able to meet Chamyrrha in Volume 5, and is available as a poly-crush option together with Wayne. You can read this post for more details.)

***

At least two more crush options will be revealed later!