#the whole thing was so spiral coded
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Artists rendition of the Presidential debate
#the whole thing was so spiral coded#not a single comprehensive sentence was said#i’m terrified#so let’s cope with tma#this didn’t turn out how i’d hoped but oh well#tma micheal distortion#helen distortion#micheal distortion#tma helen distortion#tma shitpost#the spiral#my art <3
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Being constantly surrounded by the presence of a loving God sounds great until you realize you never know when his freaky fuckin eyes are gonna show up to check on you.
And man. They do it a LOT.
#primus please let the mech breathe#what i want to emphasize most with this iteration of optimus is the inherent fucking terror of being made a prime#really pick at those little threads of how fucked the matrix as a concept is. same with the staple tropes of op himself#the idea in tfp that it can entirely change your personality. and that if you lose it you cannot remember your time with it#those implications send me spiraling. to what degree is optimus the same being as orion pax? do you forfeit your soul to be a demigod?#do you fucking die to become a conduit for the higher being that made you? letting it puppet your mind and body like a parasitoid?#if death in transformers is simply rejoining the allspark; if the soul is something splintered off from the whole;#and if to die as a cybertronian is for that fragment to merge with the whole once again. is a prime not fundamentally a dead mech walking?#a prime stands with one pede in the afterlife and one in the land of the living and has to keep up with both at once#constantly seeing visions from a plane his processor was never meant to comprehend with optics that were never built to see it#forced to adapt into an elevated being as much as a frame that still has silly things like wants and needs and emotions and base coding can#how does a mortal live when his body is no longer just his body; but a vessel fir something holy and a tool fashioned to heal the world?#when he can never truly be alone again and he has to simply live with the ever present knowledge that he is being watched#both by his god and by the world#how does one live knowing not even their thoughts are private? when your god may be living but man he does not get the idea of boundaries#guess it must be hard to grasp personal space and all that when youre an ocean of souls that left it behind#maccadam#transformers#wayward sparks#optimus prime#art tag#sometimes i feel kinda bad for putting this bastard through The Horrors. if ws gets made all the way he will be thrown so many bones#only sometimes tho >:3
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i have. so many emotions about eye avatar jay actually
#hes sooooo eye avatar light player coded im holding him in my hands. little heir of light guy.#but like. everything. the tapes. the cameras. the constantly being watched by his own camera and the#growinf need to know everything and solve mysteries even when it starts to consume him....waauaaghhhbh#head in hands. hes so much to me#blahblahblah#tim is also a spiral victim btw. if you even care#also the thing that makes jay an avatar instead of a victim is like.#when presented with that choice. even if he didnt know exsctly what he was doing#i think he would lean into it#i think he would accept that if it mesnt getting answers#which. i mean. eye avatar coded of him. ehich is the whole point
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Nepenthe (Aemond x Wife!Reader)
Nepenthe – something that makes you forget grief or suffering.
Summary: In the aftermath of the death of Lucerys at Aemond’s hand, Daemon was dead set on vengeance. ‘A son for a son’, that was how the phrase went, and Daemon intended to live by that. It was known that you, Aemond’s wife, were pregnant with your first child. And there was no limit to the revenge Daemon intended to take.
TW: PLEASE READ THESE BEFORE CONTINUING! Mentions of child death (including Lucerys), descriptions of miscarriage/traumatic birth (A special divider has been placed around this scene), strained marriage, depictions of grief and suffering, there is no happy ending here. You have been warned. dead dove, do not eat. MINORS DNI. AFAB Reader. Baratheon coded reader.
Word Count: 3484
The day Aemond had returned from Storm’s End had been nightmarish. You had hoped he would return successful, your marriage to him and the child in your belly enough to persuade your father, Lord Borros, to bend the knee to Aegon.
But the news Aemond returned with was anything but.
Yes, your father had kept his promise and would support Aegon. But everything that happened afterwards was a disaster. While not unexpected, the arrival of Lucerys had sent Aemond on a downward spiral of rage and revenge. Seeing the young Velaryon had brought back the horrors of losing his eye. Of the lack of punishment his nephew had received. Aemond had seen red, threatening the boy and chasing him through the skies over your family home.
So many times, you had cautioned Aemond on his need for recompense. Short of making him vow to forget the slight and focus on you, your marriage and now your child, he had tried his best to leave it behind.
And he had, for the most part. Rarely speaking of it unless prompted. Focusing on aiding his brother in his ascension as King, and you as the mother of his child. Everything had been as calm as it could have been.
Now, it was not.
The tension in the Keep was palpable. Between Aemond and his family. Between Aemond and you. You had taken the death of Lucerys to heart. Not for any affection held towards the young prince, though you harboured no ill will either. But for the slight to your home and your House. You felt embarrassed. The letter you received from your father, that did nothing but berate and insult Aemond’s actions did not help.
Aemond, to his credit, had not spoken of it to you until you would bring up the topic. And today was one of those days.
The council had discussed it, his first time sitting there and the Lords in attendance had done nothing but whine and complain about the war he had now started. Aemond had returned to your chambers seething, pacing the room as he waited for your return.
You were followed by your maid as you entered, the young girl quickly disappearing at the sight of your agitated husband. As the door closed behind her, you watched him. His whole body tense, like an animal circling a cage. The longer you watched, the more you heard him muttering in anger to himself.
“Sit.” you said softly, all but commanding him.
Aemond surprisingly complied. Taking a seat by the fire, his fingers clenching and unclenching on the leather covered armrest. You took the seat opposite, your hand resting gently on the swell of your stomach as you shifted to find comfort.
“The council had words for you, I presume?”
It was only then that Aemond looked at you. Eye raking up from your rounded stomach to your face, etched in concern for him. If there was one thing he adored about you, it was your perceptiveness. Knowing him well enough for him to rarely need words to express his feelings.
“They did.” he answered shortly, though his anger was not directed at you.It rarely was.
You did not expect much more from him. In every instance, Aemond was one to bottle up his feelings until they were unable to be contained, spilling over like lava from a volcano, burning everything around it.
“They did nothing but berate me! As though I sought to kill him, as though I am a child?” Aemond finally let his anger free.
You understood his feelings, as you understood the council’s. This would no doubt plunge the realm into war. The Blacks would never let Lucerys’ death go unpunished.
“Did you intend to?”
Your question made him tense. It was not something that had really crossed his mind. His sole focus had been preparing to return home, and whatever came with that. He had barely considered the consequences until they were laid out before him
When he remained silent, you asked him again.
“Did you mean to kill him, husband?”
You watched the muscle in his jaw clench, knowing your question was only adding to his anger. But you were not going to leave the topic be. His eye bored into yours as he found the words to answer.
“I only wanted what I was owed.”
There it was. The hurt little boy. But you had heard him complain time and time again that vengeance would get him nothing. That it would never be as he expected. And you did not have the same sympathy you had at the start.
You sat higher in your chair, preparing yourself for the argument you knew would come.But the words needed to be said.
“What did you think would happen, Aemond? You chased a boy on a war dragon!”
You rarely raised your voice, but your tone was enough to spark the fire in him.
“I did not intend to kill him!” Aemond snapped back, wrenching himself from his chair and resuming his angered pacing.
He may not have intended it. But he had done it, and your joined families were now at risk.
“You may not have intended it, but you could have made different choices.” You replied, remaining seated but watching him intently as he paced up and down.
“Not only have you plunged us into war without a doubt. The Blacks will want vengeance for this!”
When he remained silent you continued.
“Do you have any idea what this means for my House? To have a prince killed over our waters?"
Aemond froze mid pace. He had not and a fresh wave of guilt licked at his heart. He had never considered the consequences to you. His wife, the mother of his child.
“I..I did not think…”
But his words did nothing to stem your anger. It was one thing to hear him imagine taking his revenge, but to now have to live with the consequences was another.
“You never do.”
Aemond said nothing. The mask of cold indifference returned as he turned on his heel and stormed from the room. You had no desire to follow him. Knowing he would return when he was calm.
Though the two of you never spoke of that night again, it was never forgotten. It was a dark cloud on your marriage, on your family, and the realm. It was only a matter of time before the Blacks sought their revenge.
You would go to bed at night, dreaming of all the possible ways they would seek retribution. Aemond, however, would play that moment over and over again in his mind as he slept. A different outcome each time. None of them good.
It had been a few weeks now. The Keep remained on edge. Aemond had demanded extra guards at your door, and he never left your side where duty allowed him to. In any other circumstance, you would have relished in his attention. But the way he seemed to always hover just to your periphery soon had you feeling claustrophobic.
Soon, though, the Keep settled. War still loomed, but the focus shifted from its catalyst to the path to its end. The guards at your door remained, but you soon stopped noticing them. You tried to return to normal, but the fear still lingered. You knew something was coming.
Aemond had a permanent seat on the council now, a way of earning forgiveness for his actions by helping plan the war he pushed the realm to. It was a fair price to pay, he wagered. Though his thoughts often drifted to what you had said. What a mistake he had made, how he had let his temper cloud his judgement.
The rain outside was usually a welcome sight for you. Reminding you of the constant storm that would batter the walls of your home in Storm’s End. But when Aemond had returned to you, soaked to the skin in that very same rain, it had lost its happy memory. Tainted.
It was now a physical manifestation of the darkness that lingered around the Keep and your family. Like the heavy cloud had pulled its way from your consciousness to your reality.
Today was one of the days you spent in your chambers. The stiffness in your body weighing on you as your babe grew. More often than not, you were brought soothing teas mixed by the Grand Maester to soothe your aches and pains. The warm, herby liquid was always a welcome reprieve.
Six moons of your child growing inside you. The most recent times coloured dark with war but you were happy nonetheless. Your marriage to Aemond was never going to be simple. He was not an easy man to love, he had warned you of that himself. But you loved him nonetheless.
And your child was the fruit of that. A child that might now be in danger for its father’s actions.
You were sat at your window, ignoring the rain and focusing on the sound of Vhagar in the distance. A sound that should have roused fear in you. But it reminded you of Aemond, so it brought you comfort.
Aemond was sitting in the council and your only marker of time was a servant bringing your tea. You did not recognise this one, but the Keep’s staff changed so often now it barely brought you concern.
“Your tea, my lady,” the maid said softly, placing the stone cup on the sill before you before stepping away.
You thanked her with a smile, taking a sip of the hot liquid and letting out a satisfied sigh. At first, the taste had made you wince, but it was welcome now. Knowing your body would soon ease and relax.
Your eyes remained locked on the city below as you drank. Feeling the warmth trickle down and seep through your joints. Your hand rested on your swollen stomach, stroking soft patterns to soothe your child. If you tried, you could almost feel them through your skin, but you were likely imagining such things.
You did not know when you had fallen asleep, but the searing pain in your stomach woke you with a scream. It was as though your entire body was aflame, your skin clammy and your muscles tight.
You forced yourself to stand, almost dragging yourself to the door and calling for your guard.
“Get the Maester…get Orwyle now!” you panted out, clinging to the door frame like it was your lifeline.
The knight hurried away, loud footsteps bringing him to the council door as fast as he could. His fearful expression the one thing that forced the doors open.
“Grand Maester, you are needed.” The guard’s tone was serious enough to have the entire council turn to look at him.
Orwyle walked quickly to him, but Aemond knew the guard as one he had posted at your door. He knew immediately something was wrong. The guard’s eyes met Aemond’s as he crossed the room behind Orwyle.
“Speak plainly, ser.” Orwyle said gently, before Aemond could speak.
“It is your wife, my prince…”
Aemond heard nothing else, storming from the room and running down the halls to your chambers. He could hear the guard and Orwyle behind him, but he cared little.He could hear your screams before he reached the room, screams of pain.
The door had been left open and you had managed to find your way to your bed. Clammy hands clutching at the bedpost to steady yourself. You heard people enter and you could just about hear the sound of the maester’s voice.
“The babe…it hurts…”
You remembered nothing else, the pain too much as your eyes slipped shut.
Aemond could not bring himself to cross the threshold. The Grand Maester had called for midwives to assist and the room was a flurry. You floated in and out of consciousness, and when you were awake, you did nothing but scream out your pain.
He barely heard the midwife inform the Maester the babe was being born. He scarcely registered your cries of despair. It was too early, even he knew that.
The Maester instructed the midwives to tend to you while he looked around your room. It was only then his eyes landed on the tea cup. The shake of his head did not go unnoticed by Aemond. Something had happened.
Orwyle quickly lifted the cup. It was too early for the tea, the routine never faltered. There was something very, very wrong.
On the bed, you were in agony. Midwives circled around you and every single one looked terrified.
“My lady, you have to push.” The midwife instructed and you shook your head.
“No…no it’s not time. It is too early…” you whined, but your body began to do what was necessary.
Aemond finally moved, making his way to your side. But your reaction was not what he wanted. Your hands pushed him away, stopping him from even touching you. The action was like a knife to his heart. You were in pain and you did not want him. Aemond backed away slowly, watching silently as the midwives tended to you.
What felt like hours passed, your screams and cries never subsiding until the midwives informed you that your babe was born, a boy. But the silence that followed was haunting.
“Why is he not crying?” you whispered, your voice hoarse and broken.
The midwives remained silent and that only angered you.
“Tell me!!”
Your shriek was a mix of anger and despair, but it was Orwyle who answered you.
“Your son did not survive. I am so very sorry, my lady.” Orwyle spoke softly, the pain evident in his words.
You refused to believe it, demanding your son to be placed in your arms. The midwife holding him opened her mouth to refuse, but Orwyle silenced her and took the babe himself and handed him to you.
It was only when you held him, did it hit you. Your child was gone.You had not even noticed Aemond was still in the room until he moved closer to you. But you refused him again, wanting no one to touch you including your husband.
Aemond was at a loss at what to do, hovering at your side while you refused to look at him.
It was only when Orwyle said his name did he move.
“My prince,” the Maester whispered, “I fear it was not natural causes that brought this about.”
Aemond’s head turned to look at the Maester in confusion, silently asking for an explanation. Orwyle continued on, holding the stone cup for Aemond to see.
“The tea I brew for her pains, it was not due for an hour if not more. Whoever brought her this…”
The implication was clear. None of this was natural, outside forces had caused this loss. Aemond nodded, taking one last look at you before he left. If you did not want him here, he would not stay.
It had taken a lot of convincing for you to allow your son to be prepared by the Silent Sisters. Barely holding back your anguish as he was taken from your sight. You had watched Orwyle and Aemond speak, even through your grief you were able to deduce what they were speaking of.
The tea. You should have known. When you thought back, you did not recognise the face of the maid who delivered it. Aemond always told you of new staff. It should have aroused your suspicions immediately.
And now your son was gone. Taken from you.You called for a guard to bring you the Maester. You had to know.
When Orwyle arrived, he saw the determined look on your face.
“What did you tell my husband about the tea?”
Orwyle blinked in shock before answering, not having expected that to be the reason he was called.
“My lady, I…” he began and you knew he was going to skirt the question.
“Truth. Now, Orwyle.”
Your tone was harsh, and he knew he had no choice but to answer.
“The tea, I fear, was tampered with.”
He was not entirely sure of the exact concoction used, but he was certain the two events were connected.
“So I was poisoned, is that what you are saying?”
Orwyle could only nod, tears stinging his own eyes as they did yours. Your next request surprised him.
“Tell my husband I need him.”
Aemond was quick to follow your invitation, surprised at Orwyle being the one to deliver it but he went nonetheless. As he entered, his heart almost stopped at the sight of you. Sat before the fire, having had it lit not long ago.
Your back to him as you held a small blanket in your arms. A blanket you had embroidered when you first learned of your pregnancy.
“Orwyle told you?” he asked, fearing what would come next.
You still did not turn to him as you spoke.
“I warned you. I warned you they would take revenge.” You spat the words at him, nothing but hurt and venom on your tongue.
“I warned you nothing good would come of vengeance and now…”
You could not bring yourself to utter the words. Speaking them would make them final and true. You brought yourself to your feet, rounding on Aemond with a fury he had never seen in you before. Your grief had moulded itself into anger. Anger at the gods for taking your son this way, anger at Aemond for causing it, anger at the Blacks for being the bringers of such vengeance.
“You did this.”
Aemond could feel his very heart shatter. You were blaming him? He wanted to argue with you,but he knew you were in pain, grieving. Channelling all of that against the only person you could.
He listened to your screams and rants, his face never changing from its stoic mask. But inside, he felt sick. Was this his fault? Was this the revenge you had warned him of? Would his half sister and her people really commit such a foul act?
Of course they would, he thought. Not they, however, one person would surely stoop to this. His uncle had the ability for such cruelty, there was no doubt. Daemon was the epitome of rage and vengeance.
His attention wandered back to you when you uttered one hurtful line.
“Was the murder of one child not enough?”
The nausea that ate at his insides turned to fire.You were outright blaming him. Placing all of this tragedy on his shoulders.
“Mind your tongue, wife.” he spat back.
Angry that you were blaming him and no other. Angry that you were acting as though he had not also suffered a loss in the child’s death.
“You are not the only one grieving.”
The scoff you let out in response only fuelled his rage more. He could see the fire behind your eyes. Nothing should be feared more than a grieving mother.
“None of this would have happened if it were not for your age old grudge, husband.”
You wanted him to hurt as you did. To feel the pain you did. You were the victim here, not him. Not in your eyes. Aemond’s jaw clenched and unclenched, wanting to match the vitriol you spewed at him in kind. But it would get him nowhere. He knew that.
Before any words could leave his mouth, you spoke words that felt like a hammer to the already fragile glass of your marriage.
“Get out. I do not want to look at you.”
He felt like he was in Driftmark again. Watching his injury go unpunished. He was losing you, and there was nothing he could do. His mouth was dry, his heart near still in his chest. If you had looked closer, you would have seen the unshed tears in his eye before he turned and stormed out of your rooms.
The door had barely closed behind him when he let his own tears fall. A mix of anger and pain stinging his cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to burn down the world. To force others to feel the pain he did. The pain you felt.
He would not lose you. Not like this.
There was a phrase, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. But whoever spoke those words had never met a grieving mother. The anger would burn you from the inside if you let it. And the Baratheon words rung in your mind.
Ours is the fury.
You were to live by those words now. Fury for your child. Fury at your husband. Fury at the ones who had hurt you.
Aemond on the other hand, let the rage burn. Fire and Blood. The Targaryen words had never tempted him more. The world would burn for the pain he had wrought.
No tag list purely because I don't want to unintentionally make people see something they don't want.
If you read it, thank you. I will appreciate any feedback you have.
There will be a part two, thanks to some lovely moots who let me bother them with ideas.
#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen fanfiction#x reader#x reader angst
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Y'know, it's so funny to me when people make out like Tim Drake would keep files on how to take down his friends when Tim has explicitly said he disagrees with Batman on this:
[Young Justice (1998) #36]
Like, yes, during his Red Robin tenure he does make a Hit List full of contingency plans for known heroes. But if you go and read that, you'll notice that, while the Justice League and Damian may be on there, Tim's own friends are decidedly absent:
[Red Robin (2009) #14]
In fact, a lot of these heroes are people that have either (a) attacked Tim specifically, (b) have a track record that includes turning evil/getting mind controlled, or (c) are on the JLA (meaning Batman probably already had those files compiled and Tim just stole them).
So yeah: Tim's not down with contingency-planning for his friends. You know which one of the YJ crew DID agree with Batman though? My favorite blorbina Anita Fite, aka Empress:
[Young Justice (1998) #36]
But yeah, this contrast is honestly fascinating to me. Because while both Anita and Tim have been shown to be incredibly loyal individuals, this exchange really highlights the fact that, between the two of them, Anita is far more likely to engage in this kind of pragmatism when she thinks it's necessary to get the job done
The whole Our Worlds at War arc actually does a really good job of illustrating how both of them react to betrayal from within. It's not just the Batman Files conflict either -- I'm thinking specifically about the hallucination-based torture Granny Goodness put them through, which showed them their worst fears. Most of the team ended up having to watch their loved ones die, but what's super interesting to me is that we really only see Anita and Tim hallucinate that their loved ones blame them for their deaths:
[Young Justice (1998) #37]
Like. It's not the same as a teammate turning evil at all. But it does give us a good idea of how they'd both react when faced with a friend or teammate doing harmful things, albeit on a smaller scale. Because where Tim kind of just accepts Superboy yelling at him and moves straight into bargaining for Kon's life, Anita actually flips the script, gets angry, and defends herself against her father:
[Young Justice (1998) #37]
(she actually gets so righteously pissed off that she manages to break out of the VR simulation Granny Goodness had her trapped in, but that's another point)
But yeah, it's super interesting, because by this point, both Anita and Tim have been set up to be very similar characters. They both can be a little bit obsessive, they both have some issues with boundaries and stalking (Tim with Nightwing and Batman, Anita with Cissie), and of the team, they're both portrayed as the "normal" members (Anita does technically have mind control powers but she barely ever uses them, and in a fight, she's basically just a very good, human-level fighter)
But at the end of the day, though Batman forces Robin to put on a cool front of objectivity, Tim (at least in his pre-grief-spiral era) ultimately wants to see the best in his team. When the people he cares about screw up, he wants to give them second chances. And when that trust gets broken, his first instinct is to try to use diplomacy, or, failing that, simply remove himself from the situation (as we see at the end of the Our Worlds at War arc when he quits the team)
Anita, on the other hand, while still incredibly loyal, does not hand out that loyalty unconditionally. We see this when she tries to keep her identity secret from the YJ squad, we see it when she gets pissed in Granny Goodness's hallucination when her father blames her for her mother's death, and we see it when she later blames Secret for her perceived role in Anita's father's death
Anita also happens to sit right smack dab in the middle of the YJ morality scale; while she's generally pretty chill and willing to abide by typical superhero codes of ethics (unlike Slobo and Secret), she's also been shown to bend those rules when she believes it's necessary (as seen here when she tortures and threatens to kill a man for trying to hurt Cissie). Ultimately, what this means is, between Tim and Anita, it's honestly Anita who'd probably be the most willing to put her personal qualms aside, buckle down, and go against her loved ones if it was the only reasonable option
Anyway. This is a really long-winded way of saying I think Gun Batman's biggest nemesis should be Empress
#anita fite#meta#tim drake#young just us#LISTEN hear me out i may be an anita girlie but i'm also right#they barely interact but that doesn't change the fact that they're FOILS your honor. one reflects the other#plus she's probably got hella connections in the government like let's face it fite and maad definitely knew amanda waller#gnome talks comics#red robin#yj98#young justice core four#batfam#batfamily#dc comics#anita tag#kon el superboy#donald fite#titans of tomorrow#gun batman#long post#tim tag
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correction its Dorian Smiles, not Adrian
not sure if we're still doing the not!character thing anymore (feel free to ignore this if so) but uh
(spoilers pretty much all of these)
Sutter Cane (In the Mouth of Madness) for The Spiral: He's a horror writer whose works drive people mad and warp reality, to the point it's unclear where the line between the real world and his books begin. Entire places and people were spawned from his book, the main character included. The story of the movie is the final book he wrote, In the Mouth of Madness, and the in-universe movie adaption is the actual film, which adds a whole new layer of meta reality weirdness.
Verna (The Fall of House Usher) for The End: she's an ancient shapeshifting deity/god/devil that makes death deals with mortals in exchange for power and immunity. Throughout show, she brings about the death of each of the Usher family in horrific ways (though she does give them a chance at a nicer death, they never take it). The show is based on various Edgar Allen Poe's works, and Verna takes the role of the Raven.
The Princess and the Hero/The Shifting Mound and the Long Quiet (Slay the Princess) for the Extinction: They're gods that were once one, split into two by the Narrator. The Hero is tasked with killing the Princess, as her true form is an ever-changing deity that "contains it (death) with her multitudes", and if she were to escape the world would end.
Mother (I Am Mother) for the Web: an artificial hivemind consciousness whose goal is to create a better humanity by raising one herself. She is incredibly cunning, manipulative and puppeteers the entire story as a final test for Daughter. So even when things seemed to threaten her plans, in truth she was in control of the situation the entire time.
Adelaide (Us) for the Stranger: i know the Tethered were in the poll but specifically Adelaide had stolen Red's identity and took her place, living out her entire life on the surface that wasn't supposed to belong to her.
The Vita Carnas (Vita Carnas) for the Flesh: again i know the Meat Snake got in but i feel like the entire species should be considered. They're literally flesh beasts and their names translates to "living meat".
Adrian Smiles (BDG's “Earn 20k EVERY MONTH by Being Your Own Boss” video) for the Stranger: Looks identical to the main character and appears to have his identity(?). Look my evidence is that entire ending sequence in the woods. its freaky as hell.
.
#point still stands that video is creepy as fuck#its very vague with the supernatural elements but like#the whole sequence of the guy going into the woods to see an exact copy of himself digging in the dirt#and then having the original guy copy with the hand covering and having it cut to the 'why dont you join me' its so fucked#in a good way. nobody does horror like BDG does horror#half of these either did not come out by the time of the original poll and the other half didnt get in#or i hadnt watched it yet like vita carnas and sutter cane#in the mouth of madness is PEAK spiral. having a story which the narrative IS the actual plot of the movie#and then the blurring of lines between what was originally there and what cane's created#very good#and in all fairness the princess and the hero could be End/slaughter as well with their endless cycles of killing one another#but the whole end and recreation of the world thing is WAY more Extinction coded#slay the princess#in the mouth of madness#the magnus archives
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I want to talk a little bit about Daniel in the Interview with the Vampire show, because the new trailer material has me stuck thinking about him, and also I’ve never written about how meaningful he is as disabled character to me before.
I don’t see many people thinking about show!Daniel in these terms, but he’s a canon disabled character. And I think the way he is written is just SO good. The acerbic wit, his relationship to doctors and his medication, his rueful acceptance of the way his disability has changed him. It is all so correct!! It’s really incredibly rare to have not only a disabled character written this well but specifically a chronically ill character written this well. His illness is always present; it doesn’t get forgotten about by the story. It gives Daniel insight into the vampires (more on this in a min), but it also gives Louis and Armand leverage over him. When Louis triggers his Parkinson’s symptoms? Deeply not ok. But that’s what made it such a great scene, and really made Louis feel dangerous and threateningin that moment. Armand and Louis arranging Daniel’s meds is a sign of great care and also great power over Daniel. It’s the perfect way to communicate the complicated power dynamic in their relationship.
I also just fucking love that this show takes place in 2022 and doesn’t erase the pandemic. Covid is a very present concern for Daniel and I cannot describe how validating that is for me as someone who is clinically vulnerable to Covid and who has had to really limit my life and take a lot of precautions because everyone else has decided to stop caring whether they pass on Covid or not. The fact that Daniel gets on a plane to Dubai is a BIG DEAL. He’s risking his life to talk to Louis and Armand before he’s even in the room with them. He really wants to be there. I have to make a similar calculation every time I travel, and trust me, getting on that plane knowing getting sick could spiral you into even worse health or kill you is really hard.
I think making Daniel disabled and including the pandemic is kind of a genius level decision on a thematic level. Of course Daniel is now facing down his mortality, which gives him a whole new lens on the vampires and the fact that he once asked them to turn him. And the pandemic further highlights his fragility, and is also possibly being used as a cover for drama that’s happening in the vampire world. But I think it also really sets Daniel up as a foil to Louis.
There’s a lot of analysis of the vampire chronicles that reads vampirism as a metaphor for queerness. But I would actually propose that it’s a much neater parallel for disability and illness in a lot of ways. So many of Louis’s initial experiences after being turned resonated with me, as someone who became chronically ill in my 20s. My appetite and relationship to food completely changed, much like Louis. My relationship with the outdoors and the sun changed, because of dysautonomia and allergy reasons. I was very mad, and very depressed, and I too have missed out on birthday parties and big life events like Louis did because I was too sick to go. Hell, you can even say that the way that Louis is treated as evil by his family, that the way vampires literally can’t be a part of society during the day, is reminiscent of ableist exclusion and ugly laws. (Ugly laws were laws that forbid disabled people, especially those with visible differences, from being out in public, and they were on the books in many American municipalities until the 1970s.) You can look at Lestat being an out and proud vampire in the first few episodes on the season and imploring Louis to leave his shame behind as a queer thing, but you can also view it as a disabled thing. Disabled people are portrayed as monstrous so often (and in a way that has gone relatively unexamined compared to say, the queer coded villain trope) that sometimes it’s just easier to embrace that label: I’m the monstrous Crip, but at least I’m not ashamed of or disgusted by who I am anymore.
I do think the real strength of this adaptation is that while you can find parallels between queerness or disability or other forms of marginalization with vampirism, ultimately it’s not a one-to-one parallel. It speaks to the real world but ultimately it is a gothic horror story about supernatural monsters. So I don’t mean to say that vampirism directly equals disability, because it does not. But I do think that making Daniel disabled was an intentional choice to help draw out some of those parallels, and I think the text is richer for it.
So Louis and Daniel have had these kind of parallel experiences of uncontrollable and difficult things happening to their bodies. It sets them up perfectly as foils, and even, I would argue, as the A plot and B Plot protagonists. This is one of my favorite ways of kind of examining the structure of a TV show (or maybe it’s that most of my favorite shows seem to be structured this way?). When TV was all episodic, it would be common to refer to the A plot (mystery of the week), B plot (interpersonal drama happening as the mystery gets solved) and C plot (any overarching plot tying the season together) in an episode. Now that stuff is serialized, there’s often a main protagonist, who has the main dramatic question and the most agency, and then there is often a secondary B plot that explores similar themes and mirrors the A plot, or presents a second main character who is the ldifferent side of the same coin” to the main protagonist. (My favorite example of this is Flint and Max in Black Sails, and I’ve also made the argument that Wilhelm and Sara fit this pattern in Young Royals.) In IwtV, Louis is obviously the main protagonist of the show, especially in the A Plot, which is the stuff taking place in New Orleans/Paris. But I would argue that Daniel is the protagonist of the B Plot set in Dubai. At the very least they’re intentionally set up as mirrors of each other:
They are both unreliable narrators, who are struggling with the way memory contorts (through memory erasure, illness, deliberate obfuscations, and just the passage of time). The most recent teaser trailer, where we hear Louis saying “I don’t remember that”, with panic in his voice, further underlined this similarity between Louis and Daniel to me. I don’t know if it means that Louis has also had his memory tampered with, as I’m assuming Daniel has, but I do think it means that Louis is going to be struggling with feeling out of control of his own narrative more in season 2, a thing that was already starting for Daniel in season 1.
They are also both locked into power struggles with people more powerful than they are. The fact that Louis is under Lestat in the flashbacks and above Daniel in the Dubai scenes in terms of power/status makes it all the more interesting. And, if we want to go ahead and assume that the Devils Minion’s years have happened in the past by the time we get to Dubai— it’s possible that both Daniel and Louis are united in being the less powerful partner in their own respective fucked up gothic romances.
They’re also both the audience’s entry point into their respective stories. Louis’s narration guides us into the world of vampires. Daniel’s questioning satisfies our human curiosity in Dubai.
I think one of the things that makes the show so special is the way that these two protagonists interact. In a lot of shows the a plot and the b plot stay pretty separate. I love talking about Black Sails for this because I think it’s such a good example; Flint and Max never exchange dialogue the entire show, even though they’re so clearly affecting each other the whole time. But the way that Louis and Daniel clash in Dubai is so exciting. We see them both wrestling for control of the narrative. It’s thrilling to watch and it just hammers home the theme of how complicated and changeable stories can be.
I am SO excited to see how the Dubai scenes play out in season 2 because of it. I really can’t wait. I’m really hoping we’ll see Daniel and Louis’s relationship evolve in surprising ways, and I’m holding my breath that we’ll get a lot of Armandaniel material to work with. (I have a whole other post drafted that’s much less smart than this one and is just me waxing poetic about Devil Minion’s theories which I may post at some point. You have been warned.)
I do have two wishes for Daniel in the new season, and they’re 1: that he gets to have romance/sex, because disabled (and older!) characters are so often seen as unworthy of being desired, and I would like to see that challenged and 2: that he continues to refuse to be turned/is not offered a vampiric cure for Parkinson’s. The magic cure for a disability or chronic illness is probably my least favorite disability trope, because it serves to erase disabled characters and representation from the narrative, and I want to see my experiences continue to be reflected in Daniel’s. That means that whatever ending Daniel’s story has will probably have at least a bit of tragedy baked into it, but I’m ok with that.
#interview with the vampire amc#interview with the vampire#iwtv#daniel molloy#armandaniel#devils minion#louis de pointe du lac#armand#my meta#my crip media reviews#devil’s minion
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btw do you notice the difference between charles's and max's hands or is it just me going insane over this
because charles' hands are so veiny and big (cue how he held baby leo) and max's are a bit small and delicate and soft compared to his whole stature AND did you see how their hands look clasping with each other
sorry im having some very intense feelings im sorry
HELLO omg no, I also have very intense feelings about this and I don't think we talk about it enough!!!
I was actually having a whole pinterest spiral about this the other day, but it was during my self imposed tumblr ban, so I had to suffer alone, but I can yap today, and let me use this ask to do so
Okay, okay, okay so:
Call me delusional, I don't care, but you can kind of see the difference here in this picture with how they're holding their hands, especially with the veins and fingers
I'm telling you Charles' hand is bigger than Max's, I swear, I think Max just has longer fingers and it throws you off a bit
But Max just has these delicate, pretty little hands and I don't think this fandom talks about that enough, because it's not very top Max coded of him, and there aren't enough of us modern thinkers out there, but I'm here and I can and will talk about Max's pretty hands, and you will listen!!
Because LOOK
Look at his long, thin fingers and the tendons on the back of his hands looking so thin, and somehow his knuckles are just so ridiculously dainty
He just has hands made for shiny things, and he never wears any rings or bracelets, he's always just walking around with them criminally naked like this
But now look at Charles' hands, perpetually bedazzled as they should be of course, but oh my GOD
Because no just look at his palms are so much broader and he's got very noticeably thicker fingers that Max I'm telling you LOOK
It's just asdfghjkl, the forearms, the wrists, the watches, the bracelets, the VEINS
And I feel like we never get a good picture of them doing the handclap, but this one from Monza is so good.
Like look at how Max's hand is just swallowed by Charles'!!!
Like okay, call me ridiculous and delusional, and maybe these specific pictures are a bit research biased, but I don't care, this kind of delusion is an essential practice in fandom shipping to me
But idk, there's just something about how every part of Charles is just a little bit smaller than Max except his hands, (unless we talk about shoulders, but that's a whole different spiral)
He's just one centimetre shorter, he's just a tiny bit leaner, no matter how ripped he gets, I think Max's biceps will always be just a bit bigger than Charles', but his HANDS.
And there's also just something about how Charles never gets his fists out for anything, but in the mad max era especially, but kind of now even, Max is always two seconds away from throwing a punch even if he has hands that just aren't made for that kind of thing
I don't know, in that last picture especially, it looks like Charles' hand just swallows Max's whole
I need them to compare hand sizes right now. For science. And gayness. Mostly gayness
#something something hands pressing dainty wrists against the wall above his head something something#something about max's soft delicate hands with split knuckles full of blood#and charles' very much not delicate hands still covered in rings gently cleaning off the blood#after max got in a fight with someone who insulted charles#something about max who isn't soft or delicate or pretty for anyone but charles#max with the perfect hands for it but still always still learning how to hold things with gently because his dad never taught him how#something about charles' hands looking so rough but gentleness and soft touches come so easy to him#idk just something#asks#yours verse#max verstappen#lestappen#charles leclerc#comparison rants
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pairing: miyawaki sakura x staff!reader
summary: reader meets her bias (and sakura adorably spirals)
note: converted an old little marvel fic of mine hahaha, first time writing for kpop so this is rought, kinda dusting off the keyboard! hope it’s okay!
—
sakura was enamored the moment you set foot in the practice room, with a pretty smile and equipment ready to film the girls' content, but it was obvious she wasn’t the only one.
as soon as you were officially introduced to the members and staff, it became an entire challenge to win the pretty camerawoman over. during schedules where you were assigned to them, each girl took the chance to get your attention. chaewon would do her cutesy fierce thing, yunjin brought out her loud and loser-coded type of charm which consisted of the lamest pick-up lines known to man, even kazuha started throwing her charming smiles and wearing crop tops more often!
sakura even noticed that while out at events, other idols stared a little too long at her camerawoman. the guests at eunchae star diary wouldn't even be subtle about their glances, and the maknaes were a menace!
she wasn’t worried though, after all these months she had your routine down. you would start by politely declining all those who sought you out with the same awkward giggle, your trademark sympathetic smile, and walk away, it was a waltz sakura loved to see every time.
now sakura wasn’t dumb, she knew it was her who you liked. every early morning now consisted of coffee runs and every night had you sneaking in street food plus small gaming sessions with your favorite member. but still, sakura’s fear of ultimately ruining such an authentic friendship kept her from acting on her feelings, and not to mention that it could affect the great work relationship. she concluded that sitting by and watching everyone try and fail to have you would be a cost necessary.
——
scratch that, why was there a tall walking sunshine in the cafeteria and why was she making you laugh? wait, were you blushing? you never blush with her!
sakura sat there with what felt like a permanent pout, forcing herself to not just walk over and interrupt whatever you both so vividly talked about. i mean, how funny could they be? she kept glancing over to see when your rejecting routine would start, the awkward giggle, the pity laugh, and walking away.
but it never came, instead, what sakura saw from afar was for certain a giggle, but, it was flirty? god forbid what the other idol was typing on your phone was their number… this couldn’t go on for longer, and after what felt like an eternity you walked away with a goofy grin plastered on your face.
the veteran idol quickly walked over to the corner, disguising her intentions with a false interest in the coffee machine. “hey tsuki, haven't seen you since our fearless kkura episode!”, extending her hand to the other, “oh, kkura-sunbaemin! i got invited to do some dance challenges!”, she answered with a bright smile.
‘fukutomi tsuki? that’s okay, sakura thought, no big deal, except that’s the idol you’ve declared over and over again having a massive crush on. and you were barely five minutes prior talking to them and blushing and giggle- well sakura was officially spiraling.
——
three days, it would be three whole days of tsuki coming over to hybe and flirting with you, and you’ve been living for it. after that small talk shared in the cafeteria, the le sserafim member couldn’t have expected just how infuriating all of this would become, more so, heart-wrenching. but, sakura was the one to put up the boundary on your friendship, it was her decision and she would stand by it!
day one was simple enough; you had been assigned to show tsuki the different practice rooms and help her not get lost, which the idol took as valuable time to throw some smooth lines your way and make you blush endlessly. ‘just a blush, a stupid little blush’, sakura kept repeating to herself.
“don’t you think she should film these challenges with her own staff?”, sakura lamely started, “who?” you questioned.
“tsuki… matter of fact i don’t think she has the stamina to even do our choreos, i can though… and who wants to be so tall? should’ve gone to the Lakers instead of here!”, sakura declared, now aggressively gesturing to solidify just how baffled she is. she didn’t catch the adoring gaze you threw her way, much less your beaming smile, that cherry blossom was also so animated.
“i’m just saying, a little overrated if you ask me.”, you only laughed and looked at her with even more adoration, “it is overrated my cherry, so lame, you are so much cooler and dance endlessly!”, maybe it was an exaggeration on your end, but it did bring back a smug and happy sakura.
——
day two was much harder. after having spent all your day with tsuki, it's easy to say you got pretty close. close enough to be constantly touching each other, and sakura’s eyes couldn’t move away from it. the way tsuki’s hand rested on your lower back, going out of her way to play with the rings on your fingers. the cherry blossom was seeing red, or green, or whatever the idiom yunjin kept teasing her with. she was jealous.
“fukutomi, you know you can let her take a breather right?”, sakura knew she sounded piteous, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“cherry!”, you exclaimed, “what’s the matter with you?”, ‘great’, sakura thought, ‘now i’m getting scolded’
“it’s- it’s nothing, just odd that they have only you putting in so much work… it’s getting late anyway, want to continue the game through from last time?”, if sakura’s week wasn’t bad enough, your answer was the confirmation it needed, “i’m sorry cherry, but you’re acting rude, and i promised tsuki a night out. maybe next time?”
like a sad little kicked kitten, sakura got up, “that’s okay, i’ll go to my room, night tsuki, goodnight” the older idol could feel her chest tighten, but still, shot you her usual grin, and left. the stupid tall blonde was leaving tomorrow anyway, and you’ll be back to normal.
——
it was already day three, the glorious friday sakura had been anticipating, also the day fukutomi tsuki would stop showing up at hybe, hopefully never visit again.
the shorter idol quickly got bored of waiting for practice to start and went out into the hallway, stopping herself after hearing tsuki’s and chaewon’s voices.
“while i prefer not meddling with my member's relationships, maybe don’t ask her out?” chaewon said, knowing all too well how territorial a certain crocheter could be.
“she doesn’t seem to be with anyone though chaewon-sunbaemin, she’s cute and i think she likes me, i don’t understand the problem” tsuki rebutted, seemingly annoyed.
“i’m just saying, wouldn't you be too busy with promotions for a relationship -“ chaewon started but was interrupted by tsuki, “who said anything about relationships? maybe i just want a little distraction every once in a while.”
that was all sakura needed to hear before walking the corner and coming in between her leader and fellow idol, ears red from frustration. “i think it’s better if you leave early today, i’ll let your manager now we got enough footage.” she coldly stated while chaewon only watched and the other idol just nodded, walking away. none of them noticing how you had followed sakura after seeing her walk out of the practice room.
“why are you dragging me?!” sakura all but yelled while holding onto her now even redder ear, which was caused by you pulling her to a nearby room. words couldn’t even describe the flabbergasted look you were giving her, “oh i’m sorry, are you surprised by this? i’m still, on the whole, WHY would you even speak to another idol that way? anyone could have heard and spread false narratives”, you couldn’t even try lowering your voice.
by now you had already gotten up close to her, meanwhile the pro-idol could only continue inspecting the floor, too embarrassed to even look you in the eyes. she mumbled some nonsense in the hope of giving up on the incoming conversation, but after a glance at your worried, but also very pissed off eyes, she repeated herself louder “she said disgusting things about you…”
sighing, “kkura, it doesn’t matter what anyone says about me, you can’t be going around defending ‘my honor’ like that!”, but that only seemed to add fuel to the fire. “yes it matters and yes i can! all she’s done all week is take your entire time, make you laugh the only way i can, and then say you could be some distraction?… as if you aren't someone to treasure as if she could just barge in here and take you away from me!”
that was it, that’s the reason the usually relaxed member was being an irrational baby, she was jealous?
“cherry, would you please look at me?”, you asked in the soft tone reserved only for her. sakuda looked up with small angry tears watering her eyes, “kkura, i understand why you put a boundary to our friendship, and also why tsuki’s comment got to you, but i can’t do much here if you won’t allow me.” you finished, trying to be as delicate with the topic as possible.
with an inhale and a puffed chest, sakura finally spoke up, “i know this won’t be the easiest thing to deal with, with busy schedules and what-not, but, you have never made me feel as a burden, all you ever done is understand and accept me, with that in mind, could i please take you on a date?”, she finished asking while taking both of your hands.
“you’re such an idiot cherry, of course, i’ll be your date, only after we make sure tsuki doesn't go off and tell the managers about how you kicked her out!” you laughed, sakura knew she wasn’t going to live that down anytime soon, but it was worth it, she finally got her pretty lady.
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Hi guys and welcome to Addie’s research spiral into the gay moustache:
Moustaches have always been a symbol of masculinity, sexuality and social standing
Like legit dating back to the 1800s we had the whisker and beard movement which started pushing the idea that facial hair can be masculine and sophisticated and not just a sign of lacking in morality and uncleanliness like the victorians used to think and you can actually draw a direct line to men feeling threatened to the patriarchy in those times and the prevalence of facial hair- this assertion of dominance and masculinity being seen similarly in ww1 soldiers, where facial hair became the accepted norm then post ww1 it went out of style again then this cycle repeats again with most wars.
There is also within the later 1800s and early 1900s links to sexuality and rebellion because younger men not having a full beard and instead having clean shaven faces or moustaches was seen as a sign of rebellion against older generations , also the need for maintenance of this style made it viewed as effeminate
Someone put it as the moustache has always been tied with the three fs: fops, foreigners and fiends meaning it was perceived that men would need to be well groomed or gay, foreign (particularly from Latin countries) or lacking in morals and evil to have a moustache
Okay so the origin of the gay moustache aside from the connection to the well groomed element
So post stonewall riots the gay moustache became a real thing like one qoute I found that was funny was arnie kantrowitz saying it was a requirement in the gay community, you needed a a flannel shirt, mustache or beard, bomber jacket, jeans and boots. We were dressing like the blue-collar men that turned us on." And a lot of it stemmed from what was dubbed the Castro clone look
Okay so Freddie was not in fact the originator of the Castro clone look
The castro clone look basically took all the really masculine and macho staples and made it extremely gay
The look originally being inspired by the men of the Castro neighbourhood in San Francisco in the early 60s and THAT actually comes from the “greaser”/hood look inspired by the 50s Italian American men and Latinos who also their subculture was born from their stereotypes
The Castro clone look doesn’t have one distinct origin but its popularity was fuelled by gay artists like Tom of Finland, and musicians like the village people and Freddie and gay pornstars like al Parker
And Parker was one of the big names in the Castro clone look this in particular not only explains the reason for his look well but also peep the “pouring beers over eachother” line and let me take you back to bachelor party buddie
And now I hear the republican man and Gerrard mentions and to that I say that’s the whole point of it
Like the hypermasculinised look was meant to not only play the macho aesthetic and be a form of queer signaling but it was also meant to subvert gay men stereotypes by instead doing this like extreme portrayal of masculinity
It’s drawing from straight men but making it’s undeniably queer
Like wife beaters, moustaches, denims and flannels were so tied to het males that they took that and still found a way to make it so undeniably queer that it became a form of queer signaling
Thus taking the power away from the macho hets and forming a new subculture
The gay moustache only started seeing its end around the 80s AIDS epidemic because the moustache aimed to make a person look older but as queer communities became more sick or perceived as unclean or sick the need to look clean and young grew and clean shaved faces became the trend again
So Eddie having the moustache isn’t some tie to Gerrard or straight people it’s actually so queer coded and a form of rebellion
And btw this isn’t even a niche thing it’s like a widely known queer thing to the point that one show got slammed for having a gay club scene set in that time and not having any Castro clones in it
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Together in the Shadows | Eloise Bridgerton
MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI
NOTE: I prefer to write the reader as gender neutral, but as Bridgerton is set in a very gendered time, that poses a challenge. The reader in this is implied to be, societally, a woman; they are alone with Eloise without worrying about scandal, so this implies that the reader is perceived as a woman. However, I've deliberately been as vague as possible about the reader character to make them as close to gender neutral as possible and haven't explicitly referred to them as being a woman so that some nonbinary and trans folks like myself can feel comfortable reading this fic.
Relationship(s): Eloise Bridgerton x fem-coded/possibly gn!reader (romantic)
Summary: Your sister's last-minute ball is disastrous, but at least it allows you to spend some time alone with Eloise.
Warnings: Nothing beyond kissing. (Let me know if I need to add any)
Word count: 0.8k
(A/N: I'm so in love with Eloise Bridgerton. I want to be in a secret situationship with her, so here's my attempt at exploring that. Also, I haven't actually written a lot of fics that include kissing, so I'm glad I got some practise in writing something I normally don't write. A lot of my original projects are romcoms (including a Regency-inspired duology and a zombie apocalypse story) so it'd help me out a great deal if you let me know what you think of how I did writing the romance in this!)
“Is it not a bit chilly to be out here, Miss Bridgerton?” A grin tugged at Eloise’s lips. She stopped dead in her tracks and peered over her shoulder, not quite looking at you. For a moment, she listened to your footsteps as you paced towards her, though the rustling of grass under your shoes was barely audible over the piercing noise of the string quartet that carried itself through the windows and doors. She scrunched up her nose at the unfortunate sound.
“Perhaps. But, I am afraid I may spiral into a state of madness should I stand in that room for a second longer. I can, however, withstand this cold and my mama’s scolding of me for my absence.”
You wore a mocking frown as you finally reached her side. You were both illuminated by the golden light that shone through the windows and the pale glow of the moon. She turned her head to look at you. For a moment, you forgot to breathe. She was naturally beautiful, but seeing her in this lighting… she looked ethereal. It took you a moment to compose yourself enough to form coherent thought and speech. You weren’t sure that she had noticed the momentary falter.
“In my dear sister’s defence, she poured her whole soul into planning this spectacular event this afternoon.”
Eloise snorted.
“It certainly is a spectacle. I shudder to think what Lady Whistledown will write about it.”
You chuckled and linked arms with her. Briefly averting your gaze, you looked through the window at the attendees who were pretending to enjoy themselves or whispering to each other, presumably uttering some cruel things about this awful ball. Meanwhile, Eloise’s eyes flickered down to where the pair of you made contact, then back up to your face. The skin of your arm brushed against hers, and the gentle friction generated a light tingling sensation that flooded her whole body. She almost couldn’t keep herself upright, and she tightened her grip on your arm to steady herself. Despite the cold night air, her cheeks burned. With her free hand, she reached up to feel the warming flesh of her face. Heat seeped through the fabric of her gloves to her fingertips. The second you returned your attention to her, she quickly lowered her arm, embarrassed.
“However scathing it may be, I assure you that my sister will be delighted to have even been acknowledged,” you said. You paused before continuing. “Given how dreadful everything is in there, I shouldn’t think our absence will be noticed. Would you like to wander the grounds so we do not freeze to death?”
A breathy laugh escaped her lips.
“Of course. Might we wander far enough that we can escape that cacophony? Somewhere that will afford us some… privacy, perhaps?”
You grinned back at her.
“Certainly, Miss Bridgerton. I know the perfect place for us to enjoy one another’s company.”
Stealing a final glance behind you, you led her to a secluded part of the vast garden, where you would both be hidden by grand hedges. You let go of her arm and turned to face her.
“Is this to your liking?”
A smirk tugged at her lips.
“Anywhere that you are is to my liking.”
“That is so very sweet, I can almost forgive how nauseatingly trite it is.”
She rested her hand on her chest in mock-offence.
“Oh, how you wound me.”
Of course, she can’t have been that wounded, given her grin.
“Would you feel better if I offered you a kiss?”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“And, that is not trite?”
You shrugged innocently, unable to suppress a smile.
“I could not think of a more creative way to ask if I could kiss you. I know how you value originality.”
Without hesitation, Eloise placed her hands on your cheeks, and brought your face close to hers. Her breath fanned your skin. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched her gaze flicker to your lips.
“Being direct would have done,” she muttered. “After all, I have been waiting all night for this.”
“Then, why wait a second longer?”
Eloise let out a low chuckle, then closed the gap between you entirely. The kiss was gentle at first, but within seconds her hunger for you became clear. One hand moved to the back of your head to bring you in closer. The other remained planted firmly on the side of your face, her gloved thumb grazing your cheekbone. The motion was so light that you gasped quietly into the kiss, to Eloise’s delight. Her lips moved against yours with fervour, as though she was determined to take in and savour as much of your taste as possible. You rested your palms on her shoulders, and as your hand drifted up her neck you could feel her racing pulse. Then, your fingers became entangled in her hair. You tugged on it softly, and a quiet hum escaped her lips.
Reluctantly, she pulled away, but she only managed to get her face an inch away from yours. She laughed quietly, while you couldn’t help but grin.
“Was that to your liking, Miss Bridgerton?”
“You are always to my liking.”
#eloise bridgerton#eloise bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#x reader#x gn!reader#x gn reader#x gender neutral reader#x gender neutral!reader
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@emblazons recently made an excellent point about Jonathan in S4 -- that there are lots of little hints suggesting he's not only been picking up on Will's queer-coding, but Mike's as well, and could be in the process of connecting the dots on Byler.
I'd like to add some more evidence to the pile, because while dual-meaning throwaway lines like the above are easy to dismiss as coincidences...
...it's harder to ignore the fact that the van scene is explicitly shown from Jonathan's POV.
You might be wondering how this tells us anything about Mike -- after all, Jonathan's observations here lead pretty directly to the pizzeria heart-to-heart, so surely this is just about the Byers brothers?
But as I've pointed out before, the pizzeria heart-to-heart was not in the original script, and was only added after they'd already filmed the van scene. [source]
So if a heartwarming affirmation of brotherly acceptance wasn't the reason for the van scene to be shown from Jonathan's POV... then why Jonathan POV?
Jonathan, amongst others, has been showering Will with love and acceptance since S1 -- but nobody has ever bothered to tell Mike that they're proud of him, and he's been spiraling into depression and comphet because of it.
In the van, Will came so close to breaking Mike out of that spiral by assuring him that he's valuable for being exactly who he is... but his own internalized homophobia sabotaged the whole thing and only served to shove Mike even further into the closet.
So isn't it interesting that the Duffers felt the need to spell it out for us that Jonathan was watching all of this go down?
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How the heck do you get Ashton to actually look like a rock? Signed, a fanartist who has tried every brush under the sun but still cannot nail it the way you brilliantly have.
ahhh thank you so much for the kind words!
Answer (sort of)- Ash's palette was hugely up in the air for a really long time. I kept pitching random bits of color at Taliesin, but his write up did not have any specific coloring in it from the get-go. And because I knew they were made of rock, I trended towards something to the left or right of grey (his working/code name had the word grey in it, as well, which def influenced me).
This went on for a while, until one day Tal did his Tal thing and just sent me plans for the finished Ashton. He painted over one of my sketches with the colors he wanted, included refs of some textures. The textures for the skin included nephrite and serpentine (nephrite is one form of jade, serpentine is a whole other thing.)
The serpentine reference had these really bold lines running through it, and I was worried I wouldn't be able to replicate them, so i just... dropped the texture into the sketch. I think I was just checking to see if it was gonna make them unreadable, but it actually looked pretty great. I painted over it a bit to work out where the lines should fall and how to get them to bend around the figure. And then when I was doing the final render, I made a brush that made the fucky line effect. There's one key element to the brush that I will show you-
The shape of the brush is just a random splatter shape, but the angle, size, and roundness change in response to pen pressure, so that as you draw, you can increase the size with added pressure, and some lovely, 3-D helix shapes will start appearing as you go.
From there it's easy- Make an extreme dark and an extreme light in your little texture space, then paint over in variations of green to push things deeper into Ash's "skin" while maintaining a slight transparency.
Here's some other little tips- - Before you add intense, lined texture, start with a textured base. This can be anything. Once I used a picture of the amazon rainforest with heavy color correction. Sometimes I use sponge brushes. Have fun with it. - Try to make the larger textures support the underlying figure. My go-to is large, lazy spirals that shimmy up and down their limbs. - Don't fight the lighting too much. To increase readability, try to use elements of higher or rougher texture to frame the features, while keeping the immediate area of their eyes, for example, less busy.
Good luck, and thanks for the ask!
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Risk | l.jn [2]
Genre: college au; crush-at-first-sight Synopsis: Is this how it feels to fall for someone and slowly lose your shit? You wondered, heart racing and mind spinning as your seemingly innocent attraction for Jeno began spiraling out of control. Pairing: NCT Lee Jeno x Reader Warnings: slow burn, mature themes, suggestive Notes: 23k words. I kept revising this like a madwoman my god. The song prompt for this part was Buzz by NIKI. Go check it out bcs it sums this whole thing up T^T Taglist: @yowmaman @tunafishyfishylike
[Part 1]
It was in the little moments that your feelings for Jeno began to deepen. As you grew closer, spending time together felt effortless. There was no need to rack your brain for excuses to talk to him or find ways to be in the same room. He was simply there, seamlessly becoming a constant presence in your daily life, especially with your friends.
You often found yourselves in the library, working on different tasks but always making time to chat. You discovered that he liked the library because it was quiet, and he could catch up on sleep without the staff telling him to leave.
“What about you, Most Diligent Reader of the Year?” he teased, flashing a mischievous grin.
“Third Most Diligent Reader of the Year,” you corrected with a hint of pride. “I like it here for the same reason. And also because there are more books here than in the NCIT library.”
“How many of these have you read?” he asked, glancing around at the seemingly endless shelves of books.
“Definitely not all of them,” you admitted with a shrug, glancing at the shelves. “I tend to pick up books that catch my eye, especially the ones with pretty covers. But honestly, not all pretty books turn out to be as interesting—or even readable,” you added with a light laugh.
“Like that one?” He pointed to the hardbound book before you, a thick volume with gilded designs that looked both old and attractive.
You smiled sheepishly as you ran your fingers over the embossed title, Code de la Nature by Étienne-Gabriel Morelly—a French book. “Yeah, like this one.”
“What’s your favorite book?” he asked suddenly, catching you off guard.
You smiled playfully, feeling a bit coy. “I’ll tell you when we're closer.”
Scoffing, Jeno leaned back in his chair, nodding as if resigned. “You always say that.”
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell him your favorite book; it was just that you couldn’t pick one on the spot. Even now, as you mulled it over quietly, no single title came to mind that you could confidently claim as your favorite.
“No, seriously,” you said, chuckling softly. “I’ll tell you when we’re closer.”
“Oh, yeah? Okay,” Jeno replied, his tone mockingly flat. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he used his foot to push your chair slightly away from him. “We’re not close, so stay there.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his playful antics. As you did, a warm feeling settled in your chest—a mix of amusement and something deeper. You loved these moments, where teasing and joking felt so effortless. In these little exchanges, you found yourself appreciating Jeno more, realizing how much his playful side brought out the best in you.
After a few more rounds of banter, the two of you slipped into a comfortable silence. You immersed yourself in your book, while he scrolled through his phone. There was no need for words or even glances, but the knowledge that he was there filled you with a quiet sense of joy. Even as you lost yourself in the pages, your awareness of his presence never faded. It was satisfying like everything was in its right place. Like you were supposed to be there with him at that very moment.
As the familiar strain in your eyes set in, you closed the book and placed it gently on the table. Blinking up at the ceiling to relax your vision, you glanced over to Jeno’s side of the table. He was already asleep, his head leaning against the windowsill, arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing his AirPods, and you could faintly hear music from them.
A soft smile tugged at your lips as you watched him. You could get used to this, you thought—a quiet wish forming in your heart for more moments like this. Just the two of you, together, even in silence.
“Enjoying the view?” a voice whispered from your right, making you jump in your seat and gasp softly.
You turned, startled, only to see Renjun watching you, his head propped on his elbow with a teasing smile playing on his lips.
“What the fuck, Renjun,” you whispered back, one hand over your rapidly beating heart as you tried not to wake Jeno.
It wasn’t a far stretch to think Jeno might already be aware that you like him because some of your friends are relentless when it comes to their teasing. While they respected your wishes of not having any of them wingmanning you, the exceptions and favors they would do for you were sometimes helpful. For example, the boys had made a habit of eating lunch together with everyone—Jeno included. But even that was filled with teasing from Haechan specifically.
“The babygirl has arrived!” Haechan announced as you were walking towards them at the food court, his voice loud enough to catch the attention of the entire table. You narrowed your eyes at him, annoyed by his provocation, but then you saw Jeno there and your gaze softened in recognition. He smiled at you, which you shyly returned as you approached.
“Let’s see. Where would she sit today?” Haechan asked teasingly, batting his eyelashes.
Across him, Jaemin was gleaming with mischief. “Next to me, maybe?”
You scoffed just as Kayla was leaning in to say, “Or maybe she’ll just sit next to me and break your heart.”
“As if,” Renjun interjected. “Your heart would break first from the disappointment.”
Jaemin, not one to miss an opportunity, leaned across the table with a dramatic sigh. “You know, it’s so hard being this good-looking. I’d understand if you really wanted to sit next to me. It’s alright.”
You snorted, shoving Jaemin playfully. “In your dreams, Jaemin. And seriously, stop with the flirting—it’s getting old.”
Renjun smirked, catching Jeno’s eye. “There’s space next to Jeno. Why doesn’t she just decide for herself?”
“Yeah, let’s see who she picks,” Jaemin chimed in, leaning in closer with a playful grin. “Come on, pick me, I’ll make it worth your while.”
Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Mark appeared beside you, having just returned with a drink, and patted your back before sliding next to Jaemin. “Not while I’m sitting here.”
Jeno, unfazed as usual, pulled out the chair next to him and patted it. “Well, then,” he said, looking at you with a playful grin. “Looks like this seat is yours.”
Despite your best efforts to hide it, you felt your cheeks heat up as you took the offered seat, trying to ignore the knowing looks from the rest of the group. As you settled into the chair, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement. Being close to Jeno like this felt so natural, yet it always left you a little flustered. The warmth of his presence next to you made your heart race in a way you were starting to crave.
Even amidst the chatter and teasing, you found yourself hyper-aware of the subtle brush of his arm against yours, the way his smile lingered as he glanced your way. You wondered if he noticed how your breath hitched slightly when he leaned in just a bit closer to say something to Renjun.
Sienna, who had been quietly watching the exchange with an amused smile, finally chimed in. “You guys really have too much energy at lunchtime,” she remarked, shaking her head. “Can’t we just eat like normal people?”
“Normal people?” Jaemin echoed, raising an eyebrow. “You’re sitting with us. Normal isn’t really on the menu.”
“Well, it is if you’re ordering the salad,” Haechan quipped, pointing at the plate in front of you. “What’s with the rabbit food anyway? Trying to impress someone?”
“It’s called being healthy, Haechan,” you replied with mock seriousness. “You should try it sometime. Your future self will thank you.”
“Oh, I’m plenty healthy,” Haechan shot back, grabbing a fry from Renjun’s plate. “Healthy enough to eat whatever I want and still look this good.”
“Mmhm, shame that doesn’t help with the bad personality,” Renjun muttered, earning a snort from Jaemin and Kayla. Mark was straight up hollering in laughter.
“You wound me, Renjun,” Haechan said, clutching his chest dramatically. “But I’ll recover because I know you’re just jealous of my charm.”
“Charm?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
Haechan smirked at you. “Can I punch you in the face? Just this once?”
“Come here and try then!” you challenged, lifting your chin proudly.
“Yes, yes,” Sienna joined in. “Let’s punch each other in the face like kids. For now, can we eat in peace?”
The conversation shifted to weekend plans and upcoming exams, but every now and then, Haechan would throw in a comment that made you want to either disappear or throw your drink at him. Renjun joined in, his sarcastic remarks often aimed at both you and Jeno, while Jaemin continued his exaggerated flirting, much to your amusement. But through it all, Jeno remained cool and composed, either playing along with the banter or deflecting it with his quick-witted remarks.
After lunch, as everyone began to disperse, you casually stood next to Jeno, knowing you’d be heading to the same class.
“Heading to class?” he asked, tucking his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah, you?” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips.
He nodded. “Should we go together?”
You shrugged, channeling an aloof attitude to hide the crazy pounding in your chest. “Okay.”
The walk was filled with light conversation—classes, weekend plans, and a bit of banter. Unlike when you were with the group, the conversation with Jeno felt more subdued, and comfortable in the quiet moments that hung between your words.
As you reached the building where your class was, a sudden realization hit you, stopping you in your tracks. Horror washed over your face as you remembered that today was the day you were getting the results for the woodworking project. “What happens if we fail that project?”
“Fail it?” he questioned, slightly caught off guard by the shift in your tone. “I don’t think we will. I mean…” he trailed off, seemingly considering the possibility. “We did good, didn’t we?”
Your question lingered, feeding your anxiety. “Yeah but… what if?”
He shrugged, an uncertain smile tugging at his lips. Then, with a reassuring touch, he went to stand behind you, placing firm hands on your shoulders as he gently pushed you inside the classroom. “Let’s go inside and find out.”
As you felt his hands on your shoulders, a warm comfort spread through you, easing the knots of worry in your stomach. His quiet confidence was contagious, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to believe that everything would turn out okay.
Lunchtime since then had become a cherished opportunity to be near Jeno. Every time he entered the cafeteria, your heart would skip a beat. Some days, even when the boys weren’t around, he would join your table, casually sliding into the seat beside you.
“Mind if I sit here?” he’d ask, already halfway settled in.
“Not at all,” you’d reply, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest, as you scooted over to give him space.
His presence was electrifying. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, laughing at his jokes, and savoring the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. Each sighting, each interaction, sent a rush of warmth through you, your heart skipping at the thought of being close to him.
One day, he walked over with that familiar smile. “Hey, you doing anything after school?”
You shook your head, striving to appear casual. “Not really. Why?”
“There’s this new coffee shop that opened up nearby. Wanna check it out?”
Your heart leaped. Was this it? Was he asking you out on a date? The thought sent a thrill through you, and you had to force yourself to keep your voice steady. “Sure, sounds fun.”
As the two of you walked to the coffee shop after school, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a date. Maybe not. If it was, shouldn’t he have said so? Then again, what if he was too shy to ask directly? The idea made your heart race, each step filled with anticipation. You imagined sitting across from him, just the two of you, talking and laughing over coffee. The thought of it being something more than just another hangout with a friend was enough to make you giddy.
However, as soon as you arrived at the cafe, the giddy smile on your lips was replaced by a deep scowl. Inside, your friends were already there, gathered around a large table, waving you over with bright smiles.
“Hey, you made it!” Sienna called out.
Jeno smiled and waved back, completely unfazed. You, on the other hand, tried to mask your disappointment as you followed him to the table. The cozy, intimate moment you had envisioned was quickly replaced by the familiar noise and energy of your group.
“I have brought her,” Jeno announced with a grin.
You glared at him, pretending to be annoyed. “What’s this? Were you conspiring with them?”
Jeno shrugged. “They told me to come here and asked that I bring you along.”
“Yeah, it’s a conspiracy,” you said, rolling your eyes as you took the vacant chair next to Kayla.
“Don’t be mad at him,” Kayla chided softly. “You didn’t check the group chat, so we thought we should just ask Jeno to bring you since he’s coming too.”
“Just so you know, I didn’t read the GC on purpose,” you quipped, still pouting.
“Jesus Christ, lady,” Renjun exclaimed from across the table, rolling his eyes. “You’re too obvious. It’s actually embarrassing.”
You stuck your tongue out at him. Despite your initial disappointment, you found yourself enjoying the time with your friends at the café. It was fun, even when they casually dropped inside jokes about your crush—who was sitting right there. Thankfully, Jeno seemed completely oblivious. Or if he wasn’t, he didn’t show it.
“You’re coming to my birthday party next week, right?” Kayla asked, making you chuckle. She had asked the same question over a dozen times in the last few days.
“Yes, K. I am,” you groaned, linking your arm with hers as you walked back to NCIT.
“Good. Don’t forget.”
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jaemin chimed in.
Ahead of you, Jeno was walking with Mark, Yangyang, and Renjun. Kayla tugged on Jeno’s backpack, making him glance over his shoulder at you.
“You’re coming too, right?” she asked.
“Of course. I’ll even buy you a gift,” he replied with a smile that made your heart flutter. “What do you want?”
It amazed you how quickly he had become close with your friends. Granted, he was already tight with the boys, but with Sienna and Kayla, Jeno seemed to have captured their fondness too. At this point, it was safe to say that he had become a permanent part of your friend group.
Your group dispersed as you entered the campus. Jeno walked to the Sci-Tech building with Mark, and Renjun. Sienna, Haechan, and Yangyang went their own way too, leaving you, Kayla, and Jaemin trailing slightly behind.
“So,” Kayla began, giving you a sly look. “Are you finally going to tell him?”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you shot her a warning glance. “Tell who what?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb,” she replied, nudging you. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Before you could respond, Jaemin slid up beside you with that signature grin. “Ah, the confession of the century. I’ve been waiting for this day.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to laugh it off. “You’re both ridiculous. It’s not like that.”
Jaemin raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure it’s not. That’s why you can barely look at him without blushing. You usually have that heart-eyes emoji thing going on when he’s around.”
Your eyes widened in mock indignation. “I do not! I’m not that obvious.
“Don’t be shy,” Jaemin continued, his tone playful. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to make me jealous. But I can’t blame you—I mean, have you seen me?” He wiggled his eyebrows, leaning closer with a flirtatious smile.
“Jaemin, drop it,” you muttered, though your voice lacked conviction.
But he was relentless, leaning in closer with a teasing smirk. “Admit it, you’ve got it bad for our dear Jeno.”
You sighed, unable to deny it any longer. “Fine, maybe I do. But it’s not like I can just tell him.”
Kayla gave you a sympathetic smile. “You never know. He might feel the same way.”
You hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “It’s not that easy, you know? What if he doesn’t? What will happen to my pride?”
Jaemin softened, though the teasing glint in his eye remained. “Well, if that’s the case, you still have me. I’d happily take you on a date. We’d have fun, I promise.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that, pushing him away playfully. “In your dreams, Jaemin. You’d only drive me crazy.”
“Well, it depends. I could drive you crazy in love,” he shot back with a wink. “Or crazy good. You decide.”
You rolled your eyes again, though a smile tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible.”
“Only for you,” he replied smoothly, before softening his tone. “But seriously, you should just tell Jeno. Who knows? He might be into girls who adore him.”
“Shouldn’t you know that? He’s your friend from before,” Kayla asked.
“Sorry to disappoint you but I don’t pay attention to every little thing about him,” Jaemin replied. “It’s not like I was obsessed with him like someone.”
You exhaled sharply and started hitting his shoulder several times. “I am not obsessed with him! You dumb idiot!”
Jaemin ran away laughing and you chased after him. Kayla could only sigh and shake her head, watching the two of you run down the lengthy hallway of the Social Sciences building.
“I hope a professor catches them and gives them a good beating,” she murmured, chuckling darkly as she walked into her classroom.
Kayla’s house was a sprawling mansion with elegant decor and a large backyard. Although you’d known Kayla to have come from wealth, the grandeur of the house never failed to catch you off guard each time you came over.
As you entered the halls, you were greeted by a rowdy crowd—upbeat music, chatter, and laughter blending together noisily. The living room was transformed into a dance floor, with pulsating lights and a DJ set up in one corner. Nearby, a table was laden with an array of snacks and drinks, and the smell of pizza and nachos mingled with the sweet scent of fruit punch and the sharper tang of alcohol. The air smelled of vape, perfumes, and alcohol, much like every other party you’d been to, except that this was a little more posh.
You came with Haechan and Sienna who disappeared into the crowd as soon as you got inside. You were only alone for a minute before someone dragged you into their circle. You joined a group playing air hockey and did shots with another group, wandering through the crowd, and soaking in the festive vibe. Despite the fun, a lingering thought occupied your mind—you hadn't seen Jeno yet.
Just when you were beginning to wonder if he didn’t show up, your eyes caught sight of Jeno. He was in one corner of the hall with some friends, engrossed in an intense video game match.
You took a moment to observe him, feeling a flutter of excitement every time he threw his head back in laughter or shouted in triumph. The way he interacted with his friends—lively, charismatic, and completely at ease—made him seem even more appealing to you. You watched the scene unfold with a sense of detached admiration, the sounds of the party fading into a soft hum as you focused on him.
After a while, Jeno finally noticed you standing by the side of the room. His expression lit up with a genuine smile as he excused himself from his friends and made his way over to you.
“Hi there,” he said, his voice friendly and warm. “They said you were here but I didn’t see much of you all night.”
You returned his smile, trying to stay composed despite the flutter in your chest. “Well, have you taken your eyes off the video game at all tonight?”
That made Jeno chuckle heartily. “I haven’t. That’s probably why, right?” he asked, casually leaning his shoulder against the wall beside you.
You shrugged, taking a sip from your cup and not meeting his gaze while he stared you down. “I’d be dead focused on the game too if I keep losing like you and Yangyang did.”
“Hey,” he chimed, laughing his indignation away. “I have won a few times.”
You hummed. “Not as much as you’ve lost.”
Jeno sighed, hanging his head low as he chuckled. When he glanced back at you, there was a playful glint in his eyes. “Fine, I’m not good at it. It’s not gonna make you like me less, is it?”
You froze, surprised by his question. Obviously, it wasn’t going to make you like him less. If anything, it made him more endearing. But why was he asking? Does he care about what you think of him?
Before you could respond, Yangyang called out to Jeno, and with a quick, apologetic glance, he said, “I gotta get back to the game. Catch you later?”
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips as he rejoined his group. The excitement of the party continued around you, but your thoughts lingered on Jeno, his brief interaction with you, and the way he effortlessly made you feel special even in the middle of a crowded, lively party.
At 1 am, the party showed no sign of slowing down. Music blared, people danced wildly, and drinks flowed freely. Since Jeno’s brief greeting, you hadn't been able to speak with him. He was always surrounded by friends or caught up in the excitement of the party. Yet you couldn’t blame it on his popularity because even you were in the same situation. You found yourself moving through the crowd, getting dragged from circle to circle, and catching up with a lot of different people. You hardly saw Jeno, you couldn’t even get hold of your close friends.
“Fuck this,” you said, exhaling sharply and heading for the door. Before you could leave the hall, however, you heard someone shout, followed by some scuffling sounds.
In another part of the room, two boys were arguing heatedly, their voices growing louder and more aggressive. You recognized them, some studs that you never hung out with. The tension in the air was heavy, drawing the attention of several people.
“Calm down, man,” one of them said, trying to defuse the situation. “It’s not worth it.”
The other boy wasn’t having any of it. “Stay out of this,” he snapped, shoving him away.
“Who do you think you are?” the first boy shot back, pushing him hard. The crowd around them began to murmur, sensing the situation escalating. Soon people from other parts of the house rushed to see what was happening.
Jeno, who was standing nearby, noticed the growing tension and stepped in to mediate. “Hey, guys, let’s take it easy,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We’re all here to have a good time.”
The angrier boy turned on Jeno, his eyes flashing with irritation. “This has nothing to do with you, Lee. Back off!”
Jeno stood his ground, approaching the boy and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Come on, man, it’s not worth it. Why don’t we call it a night? You can talk again when you’re sober.”
But the aggression had reached a boiling point. One of the boys, blinded by rage, swung his fist at the other. Jeno, caught in the crossfire, took the brunt of the punch. He staggered back, colliding with you.
A chorus of shocked exclamations rose from the crowd as you caught Jeno, your heart pounding with concern. “Jeno, are you okay?” you asked, your voice trembling as you tried to steady him.
Jeno winced, holding his cheek. He even managed a chuckle. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, though his expression showed he was in pain.
The fight behind you turned into an all-out brawl. The boys were grappling, fists flying, and the crowd around them was either trying to break it up or egging them on. Someone knocked over a table, sending drinks and snacks crashing to the floor. The noise level was deafening, with shouts, screams, and the thud of punches filling the air.
“Stop it! You’re gonna get hurt!” a girl screamed, but her voice was lost in the chaos.
The room was a blur of movement and noise. Then, the distant but unmistakable sound of police sirens cut through the chaos, sending a ripple of panic through the crowd.
“It’s the cops!” someone yelled.
The party descended into mayhem as people scrambled to leave, darting out of the house and into the night. You and Jeno managed to slip out before the police arrived, finding a quiet spot away from the chaos. Kayla saw you and ushered you up the stairs. Jeno took your hand, guiding you upstairs and slipping into an open bedroom door. Inside, you found Mark and passed out on the bed.
“Good God,” you muttered, walking towards the bed only to be pulled back by Jeno. You glanced at your joined hands, and suddenly, the adrenaline from the chaos was replaced by butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach.
“Who’s that?” he asked, peeking at the figure on the bed.
“It’s just Mark,” you told him and he nodded in realization, letting go of your hand upon realizing it was safe to be there.
“Sorry,” he said, looking around. The bedroom was dimly lit—a stark contrast to the bright downstairs. The faint smell of spilled drinks lingered in the air, and the sound of distant voices and sirens could still be heard.
“Thanks for helping me back there, by the way,” he added, his voice softer now.
“Anytime,” you said coolly, giving him a reassuring smile. “Well, it wasn’t intentional, honestly. You got thrown in my direction so, yeah. But you’re welcome.”
Jeno laughed, despite the situation. “Are you saying you wouldn’t have helped if I wasn’t thrown in your direction?” he asked, purposely quoting your words.
“No! Of course, I’d help you!” you replied briskly, shaking your hand. You felt your face heat up as you quickly corrected yourself, hoping he didn’t notice your flustered state. “I would help even if you weren’t thrown in my direction. That is if your other friends don’t get to you fast enough.”
“Is that so?” he chuckled. “Alright. It’s good to know you’ve got my back.”
“Like I said. Anytime.”
As you stood there, the remnants of the party fading into the background, you wondered if you should thank the boy who punched Jeno towards you, the person who called 911, or Kayla herself. After all, the unexpected turn of events had brought you a little closer to Jeno.
“You looked really cool, though,” you chimed, trying not to laugh. “Trying to break the fight and all.”
Jeno chuckled heartily. “Until I got punched in the face.”
“Until you got punched in the face, yes,” you echoed, laughing at his expense. “Props to you for trying.”
“Thanks,” he said, smiling as he sank on the bed next to Mark.
Jeno patted the space next to him, and you hesitated for only a moment before sitting down. The bed dipped under your weight, and you both shared a quiet laugh as Mark stirred slightly but didn’t wake.
Lowering your voices to a near whisper, you and Jeno began to talk, careful not to disturb the sleeping Mark, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world outside had faded, leaving only the comforting sound of Jeno’s voice and the warmth of his presence beside you.
The cool air outside was refreshing, a welcome change from the stifling atmosphere inside Kayla’s house. You and Jeno walked side by side down the quiet sidewalk, bundled in jackets, hands tucked into your pockets against the cold. Kayla had initially planned for you and the girls to stay the night, but after catching sight of you with Jeno, she quickly changed her mind.
“You don’t want to miss your classes tomorrow,” she said with a knowing smile. You knew she was trying to get you some alone time with Jeno and her plan seemed to work when Jeno offered to walk you home.
As you walked, the conversation flowed naturally, starting with light-hearted banter about classes and mean teachers. Jeno’s laughter echoed softly in the stillness of the night, and you found yourself smiling more than you had in days. Eventually, your conversation transitioned from school to your childhood. You exchanged stories, and Jeno shared funny anecdotes about his younger self.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I got stuck in a tree?” Jeno asked, his eyes crinkling at the memory.
“Is this one of those stories where you climbed a tree thinking it’d be cool, only to realize later that you had no idea how to get down?”
Jeno chuckled heartily, eyes fixed on the path ahead.“Classic, isn’t it? I think every kid has done that at least once.”
“Not me,” you teased, imagining a younger Jeno, wide-eyed with wild energy. “So, how did you get down?”
“My mom had to call the fire department,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “They brought out this huge ladder, and the whole neighborhood came to watch. I was mortified.”
The image of a little Jeno being rescued from a tree was too much; you burst into laughter, the sound ringing out in the quiet night. Jeno laughed along with you, his shoulder gently bumping against yours as you walked.
“Also, I once got my head stuck in a banister at my grandparents’ house,” he added, laughing at the memory. “My dad had to cut them just to get me out.”
“The banisters, right?” you questioned, feigning concern. “You mean your dad cut the banisters, not your neck.”
Jeno burst out laughing, throwing his head back. “I don’t know why I’m laughing. It’s not even that funny.”
“Oh, it’s because your happiness is me,” you quipped, making Jeno laugh again. You chuckled, imagining a young Jeno stuck in such a predicament. “But seriously, your grandparents must have been furious.”
Jeno shook his head as he recovered from laughing. “Nah, they adored me. We just laugh about it now.”
You hummed, reminded of your own childhood misadventures. “Well, I once tried to build a treehouse all by myself. I was eleven.”
“Really?” he asked, amused. “How badly did you hurt yourself?”
You scoffed indignantly. “What made you think I hurt myself at all?”
He shrugged. “I’ve seen you with wood and tools. You could not build a treehouse with your skills. Not now, and certainly not when you were eleven.”
“You underestimate me too much,” you pouted and rolled your eyes, pretending to be offended. “The treehouse was actually nice. It just wasn’t sturdy enough to hold my weight, so I fell off the tree… With the whole house.”
“Ouch,” he winced playfully. “Did you get hurt?”
“Just a few scratches and a bruised ego,” you admitted with a smile. “I learned that some things are better done with help.”
He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Exactly. It’s like our woodworking project. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Honestly, I think I would have done worse without you.”
Jeno’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, you were the brains behind it. I was just there to follow your lead.”
“And by following my lead, you mean, doing all the work while I watch?” you retorted, making him laugh.
“Let’s put it this way; you’re the designer, I’m the manufacturer. Credit is 50/50. We both did a good job.”
You nodded, satisfied. “Alright. I’ll take it.”
The night seemed to stretch on, the walk home feeling both too short and wonderfully endless. With each passing minute, you found yourself enjoying his company more, appreciating the little things that made him so endearing. As you approached your apartment complex, the conversation began to wind down. Jeno lingered, his gaze holding yours as if reluctant to say goodnight. There was a softness in his eyes, a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine despite the cold.
“Thanks for walking me here,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. “But are you gonna walk to your dorm alone?”
“No. It’s too far from here,” Jeno grinned and pulled out his phone. “I’ll call an Uber.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “We should have done that earlier! We walked like half a mile from Kayla’s!”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye. You both shared a warm laugh, and as he called for his ride, you a sense of contentment settled within you.
You lay awake on your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying your conversations with Jeno. Every interaction danced through your mind, each word and gesture examined, searching for hints that there might be something more between you. It baffled you how much you liked him, how your affection seemed to grow with each passing day. The more you saw him, the longer you talked, the deeper you fell.
Jeno had been nothing but nice to you—sweet, even, and thoughtful too. Was it a far stretch to assume he might feel something for you as well? Was it too soon to think there was any meaning behind his actions? Probably. Being caring seemed to be second nature to Jeno. He likely treated everyone the same way. Unless he explicitly said so or gave away his feelings through some unmistakable gesture, you knew better than to jump to conclusions and risk ruining what you had.
But what if he did harbor feelings for you?
You turned onto your side, clutching the edge of the pillow. The idea of Jeno being here beside you filled your mind. His presence would warm the room, his voice would soothe your thoughts, and you could share your dreams with him. The thought of his touch, his laughter, and his genuine smile became a comforting fantasy you yearned to make real.
“So? How far did you two go last night?” Kayla asked the next day, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. You were at her house because she’d invited you to hang out with Sienna and Olive after class.
“Who?” Sienna questioned, scooting closer to you on the couch.
“Jeno walked her home last night,” Olive chimed in.
Sienna’s jaw dropped before she started squealing and playfully hitting your shoulder. Kayla was grinning from ear to ear, and you could already imagine the teasing you were about to endure.
“Tell us! Tell us! Tell. Us!”
You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to suppress your giddiness. “We went as far as our feet could take us, which was our apartment. Then he called for an Uber and left.”
Olive scoffed, chuckling as if you had just told her a joke. “Funny. Now tell us what really happened?”
You sighed, rolling your eyes. “I hate to break it to you, girls, but that’s all that happened.”
Kayla’s brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s it? Y’all finally had some alone time and that was it?”
You shrugged again while Olive tutted at you. “Girl, you need to up your flirting game.”
“I don’t know,” you said, biting your lip. “I’m scared. He seems interested, but sometimes it feels like he was genuinely just being friendly.
Olive crossed her arms. “If Jeno wasn’t interested in you even a little, why would he walk you home? Half a mile, in the opposite direction to his dorm?”
You paused, considering Olive’s point. “Maybe he was just being nice?”
Kayla shook her head. “Nice, sure. But walking a girl home after a party? That’s more than just being nice. The boy was trying to earn himself some good points.”
Sienna leaned in, her voice softer. “You should show him that you care for him more than just a friend. Be more forward. Let him see that you’re interested.”
“How do I even do that?” you asked, sighing in frustration. “Actually, I’m not sure I want to do that at all. I don’t know.”
Sienna’s smile was sweet, her eyes gleaming with fond affection toward you. “You know what? You’re right. Don’t,” she said, slumping next to you on the couch, squishing you between her and Kayla.
“Just be yourself. If he likes you, he’ll come to you. Don’t be afraid to flirt a little. Compliment him, laugh at his jokes if they’re funny. Maybe show interest in him from time to time,” Olive added.
“O, she’s interested in him all the time,” Kayla teased, leaning her head on your shoulder.
Olive nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I forgot about that bit.”
You took a deep breath, feeling a surge of determination. “Alright, I got it. Be myself. Awkward and shy around him.”
Kayla pouted beside you. “You’re not awkward and shy. You’re fun, smart, and adorable. I’m sure Jeno knows that by now.”
Olive clapped her hands together. “And if he doesn’t see that, well, I have an array of boys better than Jeno. I’ll introduce you to all of them if I have to.”
“As if she’d waste a breath on anyone that’s not Jeno Lee,” Sienna scoffed.
“Fair point.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “You guys are really something else.”
Kayla grinned. “What can we say? We live vicariously through you. The whole cutesy, romcom-ish, borderline obsessive admiration for a crush thing isn’t something we would experience. Given our personalities.”
“Right.” Olive nodded enthusiastically. “So we expect regular updates!”
You found it harder to keep your feelings at bay. Every interaction with Jeno seemed to push you further into the realm of deep affection. You’d catch yourself daydreaming about him during class, your mind wandering to the idea of what could be if only you were brave enough to make a move.
The realization that you were falling for him was both exhilarating and terrifying. The thought of his hand brushing against yours, his laughter filling your days, became a bittersweet longing that colored your every thought. And every day, you felt as though you were losing your mind. Every night, you pined and whined, hoping and dreaming that he was lying there with you instead of wherever he might be spending his night.
One time, he fell asleep in class, his head resting on his arms. The soft rise and fall of his breathing was almost hypnotic. You knew you should wake him up, but he looked so peaceful and, honestly, too cute to disturb.
You sat there, just watching him for a few moments, your eyes tracing the curve of his lashes and that adorable mole under his eye. It was one of those small details you found yourself enchanted by each time you saw him up close.
Your hand moved instinctively, fingers itching to touch the tiny mark. Just as you were about to give in to the temptation, your heart pounded with the realization of how close you were. What would it mean if you crossed that line? You hesitated, your fingers hovering, before deviating to poke his shoulder instead.
Your touch made his eyes flutter open. He blinked a few times, confused, then smiled sleepily at you. “Please tell me I didn’t sleep through the whole class,” he mumbled, his voice soft and groggy.
You smiled back, your heart racing as you shook your head. “Not on my watch.”
Jeno slowly sat up, groaning quietly as he stretched his limbs under the table. “Thanks.”
You responded with a smile, trying to focus on the lecture. Mr. Harris was talking about cabinetry, introducing the basics and whatnot. Last week, he had announced the results of the woodworking project. Everyone got full marks for accomplishing the tasks, but only those with high votes got special awards. You and Jeno came third, which was slightly disappointing but still impressive.
In your peripheral vision, you could see Jeno’s hand sliding a small paper bag towards you. Before you could react, you felt his warm presence on your side and caught a whiff of his perfume before you heard him whispering in your ear. “For you,” he said, his breath tickling your ear.
He moved away immediately, and you glanced sideways at him with a confused expression. He smiled, leaning back in his chair as he nodded toward the paper bag. Curiosity piqued, you opened the bag to find a beautifully crafted cylindrical wooden pen holder. It was simple and minimalistic but the amount of time and attention put into making it was evident in the clean edges and beautiful varnishing.
“What’s this for?” you asked stupidly, heart swelling with emotions.
“For your many many pens at home,” he said, scooting closer to you and propping his elbows on the table.
Your fingers traced the smooth surface of the object, marveling at the craftsmanship. “Did you make this?” you asked, your voice tinged with awe.
Jeno nodded, a shy smile playing on his lips. “We had some scrap wood from the last project and I thought throwing them away would be a waste of good material.”
Your heart melted at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Jeno. It’s perfect. I… I don’t know what to say.”
“You said thank you,” he chimed. “It’s enough. You’re welcome.”
As the day wore on, your mind kept drifting back to the pen holder and Jeno's thoughtful gesture. You replayed the moment in your head, examining every detail, every word, every glance. Why did he do it? What was it for? Was it a sign that Jeno liked you back? Or was it simply a kind act from a friend?
The next day at lunch, you placed the paper bag on the table for Sienna and Kayla to see. The two of them gawked at it for a few seconds before shooting curious gazes at you. Sighing, you opened it to reveal the pen holder from Jeno.
“Jeno gave it to me. For my pens,” you told them, clenching your fists in an attempt to stop them from shaking.
“Aw,” Kayla lilted, taking it in her hands to examine it. “He knows about your pen obsession?”
“I mentioned it in passing,” you replied, biting your lower lip. “Once.”
“Did he make this?” asked Sienna and you nodded in response. “No way?”
“Yes, he did,” you sang. “Or so he says.”
“You don’t look happy about it though,” Kayla asked, inspecting your expression.
Groaning, you gently hit your forehead on the table and looked back up at your friends helplessly. “That’s the thing. I am happy about it. Too happy, even. I feel like, like… like I’m floating and falling at the same time. My heart is full but it also hurts in a weird not painful kind of way. I can’t explain it!”
“Slow down,” Sienna goaded, patting your shoulder. “Take it slow. Tell us what happened in detail.”
You took a deep breath and chugged the glass of water in front of you before answering. “We were in class and he was asleep so I woke him up. And then out of nowhere, he gave me this bag and said it was for me.”
“Did he carry this around all day?” Kayla questioned.
“Does it matter?” you asked back.
Sienna heaved a sigh. “It does! You were already in class. He even fell asleep in there. But he waited until later to give it to you? Why didn’t he give it to you as soon as you saw each other?”
“Honestly, I have no idea.”
“What else did he say?”
You shook your head. “Nothing, I… I thanked him and then that’s it. After class, we said goodbye.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Kayla. “This is a clear hint—no. It’s not just a hint. It’s an evidence. Jeno likes you.”
“Okay, let me stop you there,” you told her, raising a palm to her face. “I am already in that route which is why I am losing my mind right now.”
Kayla grinned, unfazed. “Fine, fine. But think about it, he made this for you. He spent time and effort on it. That has to mean something.”
You sighed, feeling the weight of your emotions. “I just don't want to get my hopes up. What if I'm reading too much into it?”
Kayla handed the pen holder back to you, a sympathetic smile on her face. “What if you’re not? What do you have to lose if you just… jump in?”
You shook your head, mouth gaping open out of sheer bafflement. “I don’t know. My mind?”
Sienna looked over your shoulder and then tapped your arm urgently. “Jeno. Jeno’s coming.”
“What?” you blurted, straightening up and tucking his ‘gift’ away. Before you could turn your head to take a look behind you, Jeno was already sliding onto the chair next to you.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, but he was already setting his tray down. Kayla was quick to stop him, holding the edge of his tray.
“Actually, we do mind,” she grinned, batting her eyelashes playfully.
Jeno seemed confused, glancing at you and then back at Kayla. “Alright?”
“Yeah, we’re having a really important conversation about her love life,” Kayla added, motioning to you. You pointed a finger at yourself, gawking at Kayla cluelessly. “We are, aren’t we?”
Technically, she was right. You glanced at Jeno and scrunched your nose apologetically at him. “Yeah. We are.”
There was a flicker of annoyance on Jeno’s face, though you thought you’d imagined it. His hand hesitated as he lifted the tray, and he glanced at you again before resigning with a small sigh. “Alright then,” he said quietly, slinging his backpack back to his shoulder. “I won’t bother you.”
You nodded, waving as he walked away, but a part of you felt an uncomfortable twist in your chest. You turned to Kayla and glared at her.
“Why would you tell him that?” you asked, utterly bewildered.
Kayla had a smug smile on her face. “To see how he’d react,” she said, nodding toward Jeno’s direction.
You glanced back to where he was and found him looking at you. He looked away as soon as your gazes met, brows furrowing as he poked his food.
Your heart sank a little, uncertainty creeping in. What if you hurt his feelings?
Sienna sighed contently. “Was Jaemin right all along?”
“Yeah, he was right,” Kayla replied, nodding.
“Why? What do you mean?”
“My dearest, you clearly have a shot. I don’t know why you thought you didn’t.”
Having a crush is all fun and games until you realize you can’t live without them anymore. Well, obviously, that’s an exaggeration. Or is it? Nah, it is an exaggeration, right? “Right,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding absentmindedly. Then you felt a tug on your elbow.
“Are you okay?” asked Sienna, eyes wide and brows furrowed looking perplexed—and judgmental. You blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the overwhelming rush of emotions.
“Yeah, of course,” you replied, offering a shaky smile.
Sienna’s eyes softened, and she gave you a playful nudge. “Cute. Let’s go. Yangyang’s outside.”
It wasn’t only Yangyang who was waiting outside. As you opened the door to the backseat of Yangyang’s car, you were greeted by Jeno’s blank gaze, which quickly transformed into a warm, genuine smile and a small wave. You smiled back and turned to Yangyang who grinned knowingly.
“Saw him walking alone on my way here so I picked him up and invited him to join us,” said Yangyang.
Jeno’s smile turned sheepish, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh, no! Not at all!” Sienna’s excitement was obvious as she enthusiastically pushed you into the seat next to Jeno. “It’s more fun with more people.”
You sat on the plush leather seats, and Jeno scooted away slightly to make room for you. The close proximity made your pulse quicken, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him. Sienna squeezed in next to you, her presence further pressing you toward Jeno. She gave you a sickly sweet smile that made you chuckle nervously, trying to ignore the way your heart raced.
“Got the goods?” Sienna asked Yangyang who nodded.
Yangyang’s eyes remained on the road as he reached into the front seat, retrieving a large paper bag and handing it to the back. “Yep. It’s all here.”
Sienna’s face lit up as she accepted the bag, her sweet smile unwavering. “Thanks, Yang, you’re a literal angel.”
You scoffed playfully, rolling your eyes. “You don’t mean that.”
“Of course, I don’t,” Sienna said, her tone light and teasing. She turned to Jeno with a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Are you sure you want to join us today, Jeno?”
Jeno shrugged, his gaze flickering between Sienna and you. There was a brief moment of hesitation before he met your eyes, then quickly looked away. “Yeah. I mean, how bad can it be?”
“What, Spa Day? Not bad at all! If anything, it’s good for you,” Sienna reassured him, her enthusiasm infectious.
You nodded in agreement. “You’ll thank her later.”
Jeno’s smile widened slightly, and he shifted in his seat. “Okay. I trust you.”
With how closely you were sitting, you figured he might have been feeling uncomfortable, which was probably why he kept shifting in his seat and couldn’t meet your gaze. You turned to Sienna and discreetly tapped her knee, subtly urging her to scoot over. She obliged with a knowing smile, giving you just enough room to breathe.
As you adjusted your position, you felt Jeno relax beside you. His warmth and the faint scent of his cologne were oddly comforting, adding to the flutter of your nerves. You glanced over at him, trying to gauge his feelings, but he was focused on the view outside the window, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.
The car rumbled to a stop, and you glanced out the window, noting the familiar building where Renjun, Haechan, and Yangyang lived. Yangyang parked the car, and you, Jeno, and Sienna climbed out, chatting excitedly as you approached the entrance. The anticipation of spending time with your friends and Jeno filled you with excitement, but as soon as you stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted.
What welcomed you were Jaemin and Haechan, sprawled out on the floor in a haze of smoke. Jaemin, with his relaxed posture and half-lidded eyes, was lazily passing a joint to Haechan, who took a long drag before letting out a thick plume of smoke. Both of them looked completely out of it, their expressions a blend of contentment and mild confusion. The sight of them, seemingly floating in their own stoned world, was both amusing and surreal.
“You guys…” you muttered, shaking your head as you took in their stoned state. Sienna appeared beside you, her eyes widening in disbelief as she processed the scene.
Jaemin, squinting at you with a goofy grin, greeted you with a slurred voice. “Hey, hey! Look who’s here!”
Haechan giggled, his cheeks flushed as he stared at Sienna. “This shit’s good, man. I can see my girlfriend. She looks so real.”
Jaemin nodded slowly, barely able to keep his eyes open. “Dude, I think that’s your girlfriend.”
“I know. It’s crazy,” Haechan laughed. “You see her too?”
“Nah, man. I think they’re there for reals,” Jaemin said, shaking his head as if to clear the fog.
Yangyang, arriving late and catching sight of his friends on the floor, let out an amused laugh. “Woah, are you guys stoned?”
“Oh! It’s Yangyang!” Haechan grinned lazily, pointing at him.
Sienna released a dragged-out sigh, placing her hands on her hips. “Lee Donghyuck, I swear to God,” she said, her tone calm but carrying an edge that sent a shiver through everyone present.
You tapped Jeno and Yangyang urgently, motioning for them to move. Yangyang headed to the kitchen, while you and Jeno joined Renjun on the couch. The room smelled faintly of incense and the earthy scent of the joint, mixing with the warmth of the gathering.
“You’re here too, Jeno?” he asked, eyes on his book.
“Yeah. It sort of just happened,” Jeno replied, glancing around the room.
Renjun looked up from the couch, looking bored. “I hope you guys are prepared for some interesting conversations today. They’ve been like this for a while.”
Soon, Mark arrived, followed by Kayla and Olive. Jaemin and Haechan’s antics had derailed your plans for Spa Day, so you decided to just hang out instead. Kayla, Sienna, and Renjun were busy in the kitchen, preparing snacks and chatting animatedly, while Mark and Olive scrolled through Netflix, debating what to watch. You and Jeno settled onto the long couch, trying to ignore the increasingly rowdy scene in the far corner of the room, where Jaemin, Haechan, and now Yangyang were thoroughly engrossed in their stoned escapades.
“I knew it was Yangyang’s joint,” you said with a playful scoff, shaking your head. “I can’t believe we canceled Spa Day for this.”
Jeno leaned back on the couch, propping his arm casually over the backrest. “Yeah, I was looking forward to that too.”
“Well, it won’t take long before Mark joins them. You should go over there now while they haven’t finished Yangyang’s entire stash yet.”
Jeno shook his head. “No. I don’t smoke weed.”
You turned to him with a skeptical look, raising an eyebrow. Jeno chuckled at your expression. “You don’t believe me?”
You opened your mouth to respond but ended up just shrugging, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. Jeno’s playful pout, combined with his sheepish grin, made it hard not to laugh.
“I want to believe you, okay?” you told him, laughing softly. “It’s just… I don’t know. You were friends with Jaemin in high school so, I can imagine all the shenanigans.”
Jeno nodded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Fair point. We did get up to all sorts of things, but that was in high school. I’ve mellowed out a bit.”
“Taking life a little more seriously, huh?”
“Not too much, just dialing back the recklessness.”
In their corner of the room, the stoners were laughing at something you couldn’t hear. The haze of smoke seemed to waft over, making you scrunch up your nose. “Can’t say the same for your friends over there.”
“They’re your friends too, you know,” Jeno said with a teasing grin.
You grimaced playfully. “Unfortunately.” With a dramatic sigh, you stood up and beckoned Jeno to follow. “I’d kill for a milkshake right now. Come on.”
As you led Jeno towards the kitchen, his presence beside you felt like a refreshing change from the chaos; a comforting escape from the afternoon’s unexpected turn of events.
The smell of food filled the apartment as everyone settled into the living room, ready for a movie. The stoners, now mostly sober and recovering from their earlier high, had retreated to a quieter corner. Yangyang and Haechan were sprawled out, their heads resting on pillows as they drifted off to sleep.
Jaemin plopped down next to you on the couch, still a little dazed from all the earlier chaos, and leaned against you, his head resting on your shoulder. You didn’t mind; it was actually kind of nice. On your other side, Jeno shifted around, trying to make space for you and Jaemin.
Mark grabbed the remote and hit play on a superhero movie. You’d seen it before, but everyone had agreed on it anyway. No matter how different you all were, there was one thing you could count on—everyone loved superhero movies. Even Sienna, who used to roll her eyes at them, eventually got hooked.
You glanced over at Jeno, who was already lost in the movie, a genuine smile lighting up his face. He must've felt your gaze because he turned, catching your eye. Leaning closer, he whispered, “Didn’t peg you for a superhero fan.”
“You’d be surprised,” you whispered back, keeping your voice low so you wouldn’t disturb the others.
As the movie went on, you and Jeno kept up a quiet conversation, sharing whispers and soft laughs. He leaned in whenever he wanted to say something, his breath warm against your ear. Every time your hands brushed—whether by accident or not—it felt like a tiny spark between you.
Eventually, Renjun turned around, eyebrows raised. “You two need to keep it down. Some of us are actually trying to watch.”
You and Jeno exchanged sheepish grins, your faces turning red. Jeno leaned in closer, his voice just for you. “Sorry, we’ll be quieter.”
You giggled, which made Renjun roll his eyes again. “Seriously, guys. Just get a room already.”
Feeling a bit guilty, you made a big show of zipping your lips, trying not to laugh. Jaemin, who had been dozing against you, stirred and mumbled something you couldn’t make out. His weight was starting to make your arm ache, so you shifted a bit, moving his head onto your lap to get more comfortable.
Jeno noticed you rubbing your shoulder and, without a word, put his hand on your shoulder, his fingers warm as they started to massage away the tension.
“Thanks,” you whispered, feeling the warmth from his touch spread through you.
As the movie continued, Jeno casually draped his arm over the back of the couch, his hand brushing against your shoulder and gently tugging you a little closer. You tilted your head slightly, catching his gaze. His eyes held a soft, almost wistful expression, and you felt a flutter in your chest.
“Not bad, huh?” Jeno asked, nodding at the TV screen.
“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, your eyes locking with his.
In the midst of the action on screen, a quiet, intimate connection grew between you. The subtle moments of closeness—the accidental touches, the soft whispers, and the shared warmth—woven with the comforting presence of Jeno beside you, created a bridge that felt both thrilling and reassuring. The movie played on, but the real show was the unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing moment.
“How was it?” Kayla asked with a playful glint in her eyes, as you scrubbed dishes in the kitchen after the movie. The kitchen had become a gathering spot, with Olive and Sienna joining Kayla, all three wearing playful smirks that made you roll your eyes.
You tried to keep your expression neutral but unable to hide your grin. “How was what?” you replied, feigning ignorance.
Kayla pinched your arm, making you yelp in surprise. “Ouch! What the—”
Your exclamation caught the attention of the boys in the living room, their heads turning in your direction. Kayla just smiled at them as if nothing happened.
Kayla, undeterred, gestured for the boys to continue tidying up. “You guys better make sure the living room is spotless,” she called out, her tone playful.
Your eyes found Jeno’s—he was giving you a concerned gaze to which you responded with a shrug to tell him you were fine.
“I saw that!” Olive said in a hushed tone, leaning closer to you. “You and Jeno just now.”
“Yeah, what was that about?” Sienna chimed in, her eyes narrowing with a teasing smile. “So fishy.”
“It’s not fishy,” Kayla said with a smirk, joining the others at the dining table. “It’s sweet. Like, flower garden sweet. Like, totally romantic.”
Olive grinned. “More like ‘the guy I like now likes me back’ sweet.”
You felt your cheeks heat up, a blush spreading as you thought about those moments with Jeno. “Go away if you’re not going to help,” you shot back, trying to focus on the dishes and hide your embarrassment.
The girls laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction, but you could feel their warmth. Despite the teasing, it only added to the cozy, comforting vibe of the night.
You hung out until late, playing games, chatting, eating takeout, and laughing for the most part. There were quiet moments when you would just scroll through your phone lazily, while the others did their own thing. The cozy warmth of the apartment made it easy to lose track of time. Eventually, the clock nudged past midnight, and it was time to say goodbye.
As everyone began to gather their things, the apartment was filled with the quiet buzz of goodbyes and plans for the next hangout. You grabbed your bag and made your way to the door, where Jeno was waiting.
He gave you a small smile as you made your way to him. “Before you go, do you remember the name of that book you mentioned earlier?”
You blinked, trying to remember. When you realized you hadn’t said the title because you’d forgotten it, you scrunched your nose. “Uh, no, I don’t. But I have it at home. I’ll text you when I find out.”
He handed you his phone with a casual ease that belied the slight tension in the air. “Here, just put your number in. That way, you can tell me as soon as you find it.”
You took the phone, fingers brushing against his as you entered your number. After giving it back, he dialed your number and your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out and saw his number flashing on your screen.
“There. Now you have my number too. Don’t forget to text me,” he said, his tone light, but there was a warmth in his voice that made your heart skip a beat.
The moment passed quickly, and soon everyone was heading out, their voices echoing down the hallway. You found yourself glancing back at Jeno one last time as you left, thinking about the quiet connection that had formed between you throughout the day.
As you walked home, the cool night air filled your lungs, and a small smile tugged at your lips. The day had been full of surprises and quiet moments that felt like the start of something new. You couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring, but for now, you held onto the memory of Jeno’s smile and the way his voice softened when he talked to you.
On a quiet Saturday morning, you paced back and forth in your bedroom, biting your thumb as you stared at your phone and the book lying on your bed. The early sun poured into your room, filtered through the sheer curtains. The muffled sound of Sienna’s morning playlist drifted in from the living room, mixing with the soft sound of your footsteps on the carpet.
You were debating whether to text Jeno, running through every possible scenario that might happen if you did, and most importantly, wondering what to say first. Should you start with a simple ‘hi’? Or would it be better to get straight to the point and tell him the book title he wanted to know? Was it too early to text him? Should you wait until later so you didn’t seem too eager? Would he even reply? And if he did, what would he say?
You stopped pacing, letting out a sharp breath, and placed your hands on your hips. For a moment, you stared at the phone and the book on your bed before picking them both up. Sitting down in the chair in front of your computer, you opened your contacts list with a look of determination.
“It’s just a text. No need to overthink it,” you told yourself, tapping on Jeno’s number to start a message.
You glanced at the title of the book as you typed out your text.
Hey Jeno, it’s me. The book title we were talking about is ‘The Long Walk’. Found it this morning.
Was it too casual? Too direct? You felt a flutter in your stomach as you reread the message for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was safe, not too much, just enough to start a conversation.
Your thumb hovered over the send button, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. It wasn’t just about sending the title; it was about breaking the silence, about seeing if the connection from yesterday would carry over into today.
Finally, you took a deep breath and hit send. There was no taking it back now. You stared at the screen, watching the message transition from ‘sending’ to ‘delivered.’ You squealed, tossing the phone on your bed and jumping around your bedroom.
A knock on the door made you freeze. “What’s going on in there?” Sienna’s voice called from the other side.
“Nothing!” you called back, trying to stifle your grin. “Just excited about something.”
Sienna chuckled, the sound of her footsteps retreating as she muttered something under her breath.
With the room quiet again, you focused on the phone. Seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. You tried to distract yourself with the book, but your eyes kept drifting back to the screen. Then, just as you were about to give up, the screen lit up with a notification, followed by a buzz. You dived into the bed, grabbing the phone as quickly as you could.
Jeno <3: Got it, thanks! Do you mind if I borrow it?
A grin spread across your face, your heart fluttering at the sight of his reply. It was just a simple message, but as the conversation continued with an easy flow, it felt like a small victory—a quiet confirmation that maybe, just maybe, there was something more here.
Days turned into weeks, and that simple conversation turned into the first of many. In carpentry class, you and Jeno often got paired up, sharing tools and ideas. He had this knack for making even the most boring tasks fun, with his light-hearted teasing that always left you smiling.
“Careful there,” he’d say with a grin, watching you handle a saw. “Wouldn’t want you to lose a finger. Not sure how good you’d be at texting without one.”
You’d roll your eyes, but the warmth in his voice made it clear he was just looking out for you.
In the library, your study sessions often turned into comfortable silences, broken only by the occasional whispered joke or shared look when something funny popped into your head. Jeno had this way of making even the silence feel full, as if words weren’t always needed between you two.
One afternoon, while out for a coffee run, Jeno surprised you by handing you a snack you’d mentioned liking weeks ago. “Thought you might want this,” he said casually, but the gesture was anything but. It was little things like that that made you realize how thoughtful he could be—how he noticed the small details you barely remembered mentioning.
At group hangouts, Jeno always seemed to end up next to you. Whether it was sitting beside you on the couch, standing close at a party, or even asking someone to scoot over so he could be nearer, he found subtle ways to be close.
“Can I sit here?” he’d ask with a grin, even though he already knew your answer.
And then there were the compliments—thoughtful, personal, and always catching you off guard. “I don’t know if you realize, but you’re so easy to hang out with. Easy to talk to, easy to get along with… You’re just awesome,” he once said during a late-night phone call. His words weren’t just empty flattery; they felt real, like he saw something in you that others didn’t.
Every interaction, every shared moment, only made your connection deeper. Jeno’s focus on you during conversations, his attention to detail, and the way he remembered the little things—all of it hinted at feelings that were growing stronger day by day.
“I should just kick them out,” Renjun sighed, taking a long sip of his coffee.
You and your friends were hanging out at a cozy café known for its laid-back vibe and amazing hot chocolate. With Kayla, Mark, Renjun, and Jeno, you’d squeezed into a large booth. Renjun had been complaining about his roommates again, and while you and Kayla were all for him kicking his flatmates out, Mark was trying to talk him down. Eventually, the conversation drifted from Renjun’s woes to a new movie that had just come out.
As the conversation flowed, you found yourself getting into a lively debate about the movie. Jeno, sitting next to you, listened quietly, throwing in a thoughtful comment every now and then. Occasionally, your shoulders would brush, and you’d exchange quick, knowing glances.
Suddenly, someone plopped down beside you, making you and Kayla gasp. It was Hendery Wong, his usual charisma on full display as he tilted his head and grinned at you. “Deadpool & Wolverine, huh?” he said, his voice playful. “Pretty epic, wasn’t it?”
“Yo, Hendery Wong!” Mark exclaimed, jumping up to give Hendery a high-five. “Damn, dude, how have you been?”
“I’m fine. Still alive, fortunately,” Hendery said, his tone cool and nonchalant. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“A while? Dude, it’s been a whole fucking year!” Mark replied, unable to hide his excitement. “When did you get back?”
“Today. A few hours ago,” Hendery answered.
Kayla tutted. “Clearly, being overseas didn’t wipe that smug look off your face.”
Hendery chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. “Come on, K. You’re not still sore about losing that exchange program to me, are you?”
Kayla huffed, crossing her arms. “Not at all. I was never sore about it in the first place.”
Hendery’s attention shifted back to you, his arm casually resting on the backrest behind you. “And you, babygirl? How’s life treating you?”
You rolled your eyes, though you were secretly glad to see him. “Great. Life was a little better without you around. Now that you’re back,” you paused, wincing playfully, “I’m not so sure anymore.”
“Good,” Hendery replied with a teasing grin. “I missed you too.”
Jeno, who had been observing quietly, shifted in his seat, his expression hard to read. He cleared his throat but didn’t say anything, his gaze drifting out the window.
“Who’s your friend?” Hendery asked, turning his attention to Jeno.
Mark jumped in before you could reply. “Oh, right. This is Jeno. He’s sharing the flat with me and Jaemin. Jeno, this is Hendery Wong. He used to stay in your room. He was gone for an exchange program in France.”
Jeno gave a polite nod, his lips pressed together, while Hendery returned the nod. An odd tension hung in the air, coming from the intense gaze between Jeno and Hendery.
“Well, I should get going,” Hendery said, rising from his seat. He placed a hand on your shoulder, his thumb gently rubbing against your shoulder blade. “Catch you guys later? I thought I saw Renjun here, was I wrong?”
“He went to the restroom. Dude, we should all hang out soon,” Mark said, standing up to bump shoulders with Hendery.
“Absolutely. Just let me know,” Hendery said, patting your shoulder. You looked up at him with a smile, giving him a small wave as he nodded at you.
You watched as Hendery walked away, waiting until he left the café to resume the conversation. Beside you, Jeno’s posture had grown more rigid. His fingers tapped restlessly on the table, and he seemed unusually focused on the menu, avoiding eye contact.
“Is everything alright?” you asked softly, sensing the shift in his mood.
Jeno glanced at you, his expression softening slightly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
You raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. Before you could press further, Renjun rejoined the table, and the conversation picked up again.
“You won’t believe who was just here,” Mark said, turning to Renjun as he sat down.
“Who?” Renjun asked, looking around.
“Hendery Wong,” Mark replied, unable to contain his excitement.
“No way! He’s back?” Renjun’s eyes widened in surprise.
As the chatter resumed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between you and Jeno. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there—a quiet tension that lingered beneath the surface. For the rest of the afternoon, you found yourself stealing glances at Jeno, wondering if he felt it too.
Jeno first saw you during a basketball game between NCIT and another university. From his seat in the bleachers, he could hear your voice cutting through the clamor of the crowd. While most of the students were shouting cheers and encouragement, you stood out sharply with your enthusiastic and, frankly, unorthodox support.
You were positioned right at the edge of the bleachers, waving a homemade banner that read ‘GO MARK!’ in big, bold letters. But instead of the typical shouts of praise and excitement, your voice was a commanding presence of its own.
“Mark, focus! Don’t screw this up!” you yelled, your tone firm and assertive. There was an edge of urgency in your voice that set you apart from the usual crowd.
When Mark came close to the bleachers, you didn’t hold back. With an exaggerated, mock-serious expression, you shouted, “I swear to God, Mark Lee! If you don’t beat their asses, I will whoop yours!”
Mark just laughed in amusement as he nodded at you, and that seemed to annoy you. “Oh? Are you laughing? Don’t you laugh at me, I am dead serious!”
Your friends beside you chuckled, clearly used to your dramatic flair, but Jeno was intrigued. The contrast between your intense demeanor and the light-hearted atmosphere around you was striking. When you were simply sitting quietly as you watched the game, there was an air of elegance and grace about you. But that air was shattered the moment you stood up and opened your mouth.
As the game progressed, Jeno overheard you telling a friend that winning the game was crucial not just for school pride, but because you wanted to exact a small revenge on your ex, who had, apparently, done you wrong. “We have to win this game!” you declared. “I need to show that lying, cheating jerk that he’s a loser. This victory is for me!”
There was something undeniably compelling about your presence. Your energy was infectious, your passion unmistakable. Jeno found himself stealing glances your way, caught up in the way you seemed to own the moment, making the game as much about your personal victory as it was about the team’s. In that crowded, noisy gymnasium, amidst all the chaos and excitement, Jeno saw something special in you—a spark that he couldn’t quite ignore.
Jeno watched as the game reached its climax, with Mark and his team eventually emerging victorious. In the final moments of triumph, you leaped from your seat, joining the crowd rushing onto the court. Jeno saw you stare at someone from the other team, whom he could only assume was your ex after you gave him a dramatic, unapologetic middle finger.
Jeno knew you were friends with his roommates and that you shared a circle of mutual friends. While he found you intriguing, he’d never had any romantic interest in you. At the time, he was in a relationship, and though he occasionally caught glimpses of you during group gatherings or around campus, there wasn’t much real interaction. You always seemed wrapped up in intense debates with Haechan or animated conversations with your friends, and Jeno never thought much about it.
After a messy breakup, Jeno decided to go on a “healing” road trip with his cousins. The open road was supposed to be a distraction, a way to clear his head. On one of those long drives, they stumbled upon a quaint public library in a sleepy little town—a perfect pit stop for a break. As Jeno wandered through the quiet rows of books, taking in the musty, comforting smell of old paper, he spotted someone familiar.
There you were, perched precariously on a ladder, browsing the top shelves with a look of intense concentration. Seeing a familiar face in such an out-of-the-way place was a pleasant surprise, but Jeno didn’t think of approaching you. After all, the two of you didn’t really know each other. But as he watched, his curiosity piqued. You were tugging at a book, your brow furrowed in determination as you struggled to free it from the tight shelf. It was almost comical, and Jeno couldn’t help but smile.
As he debated whether to help, you suddenly lost your footing. Jeno’s reflexes kicked in, and he darted forward, catching you just as you slipped off the ladder. For a second, you were in his arms, eyes wide with surprise. Your cheeks flushed as you steadied yourself, looking up at him with a mix of embarrassment and gratitude.
The two of you stood there for a moment, neither sure what to say. There was something endearing about your flustered reaction, and Jeno found himself smiling, feeling an unexpected warmth. He handed you the book you’d been reaching for, and you accepted it with a grateful smile and uttered your thanks again.
As Jeno walked out of the library, he couldn’t help but glance back, catching one last look at you. The encounter was brief, but something about it stuck with him. For the rest of the road trip, he found his thoughts drifting back to the way your eyes had widened in surprise, the way your lips had curved into a smile. And as Jeno climbed back into the car with his cousins, he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face.
On the first day back at university, Jeno noticed you immediately. You were surrounded by your friends, engaging in lively chatter and playful bickering. Mark spotted him and waved him over, but Jeno had to decline, as he was on his way to class.
Later, at lunch, Jeno was walking to the food court with Mark, Jaemin, and Haechan. Haechan began grumbling about you, complaining that you had been a real pain in his ass due to a missing pen. Mark said it was his fault for losing her pen.
“As if she don’t already have hoards of them!” Haechan whined, stomping his feet.
Just as Jeno was about to ask more, your voice cut through the busy pathway. “Lee Donghyuck!”
Haechan seemed to shudder at hearing his real name. “Gosh! This psycho pen hoarder!” he exclaimed in horror.
Frightened, Haechan took off running. Before Jeno could even glance over, you zoomed past him in pursuit of Haechan, leaving only a lingering trail of your sweet perfume.
Jeno watched, intrigued, as you darted through the crowd, clearly determined to catch up to Haechan.
Jeno started noticing you everywhere. At the public library across town, your name was proudly displayed as one of the top readers for the year. You seemed to live in that library, always immersed in a book while Jeno used it as a quiet refuge, mostly for napping and studying only when he absolutely had to. He saw you in the quad, at the food court, in the school library, and even in the hallways and at the gates. It was as if no matter where he went, you were always in his line of sight.
His curiosity about you grew with every encounter. When your name came up in conversations with his roommates, he’d casually ask about you, careful not to hint at his interest. On the rare occasions you visited their apartment, he’d retreat to his room, listening from a distance but never making his presence known. He couldn’t quite explain why he chose to stay hidden, but he did.
One rainy afternoon, while stranded outside an electronics store downtown, Jeno stood shivering, hoping a cab would miraculously appear. Then he saw you emerging from the diner next door, shielded by an umbrella. His heart skipped a beat, and the dreariness of the rain-soaked streets seemed to lift. Surprised by his reaction, he pondered what it could mean. You struggled to hail a cab, and Jeno wrestled with whether or not to approach you. But he decided there were better times to do that than right now.
When a taxi finally arrived and you were about to close the door, Jeno acted on an impulse. He sprinted across the sidewalk and intercepted the cab door just in time. The spontaneity of his actions left him awkwardly sitting beside you in the cab, unsure how to start a conversation. Should he introduce himself and remind you of the ladder incident, or simply acknowledge that he was Jaemin and Mark’s friend?
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he missed his chance to say anything before his stop. Annoyed with himself, he walked to the apartment, his mood sour. Jaemin noticed Jeno’s dejected expression when he opened the door. “What happened?” Jaemin asked.
“Don’t remind me,” Jeno replied, brushing off the question.
That night, Jeno couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your face, so pretty and striking, lingered in his mind long after the encounter. He was captivated by how your gentle demeanor contrasted with your boldness—something he found both intriguing and endearing.
As the new week began, he found himself looking forward to the possibility of seeing you again. And this time, things were different. Instead of just glimpsing the back of your head or the side of your face, he found himself catching your gaze. You would often look away quickly, but sometimes you’d offer him a shy, bashful smile that left him both elated and curious.
What started with stolen glances and shy smiles evolved into something much deeper. Jeno found himself completely enchanted by you—not just because you were beautiful, but because you were brilliant and kind-hearted too. Your intimidating exterior gave way to a warmth and charm that drew people to you, and Jeno was no exception. The moments you shared—laughing over inside jokes, basking in comfortable silence, and watching your smile light up a room—made his heart swell with affection.
He knew he liked you, but as time went on, he realized his feelings went beyond mere admiration. It was something deeper, something he couldn’t easily define. And though he was still figuring out what to do about it, the desire to be near you only grew stronger.
But today, it felt like the steady course of your relationship was about to hit some unexpected turbulence. Jeno stood in the doorway of his bedroom, his scowl deepening as a swirl of questions raced through his mind. Who is Hendery Wong? Why did he seem to have an interest in you? What was your past relationship with him? And most pressing of all, what was Hendery doing in Jeno’s bedroom wrapped in a towel, straight out of a shower? Why did it feel like this moment was challenging everything Jeno had come to understand about his own feelings for you?
As Jeno struggled to make sense of the situation, he could only hope that whatever was happening would not only clarify the tangled emotions in his heart but also not drive a wedge between the bond he had cherished so much.
“Hendery moved back in with you?” you asked Mark, your voice laced with surprise and a hint of confusion.
Mark leaned back, resting his head on his hand as if the whole situation were more amusing than anything else. “Yep. The guy showed up from the airport with nowhere to crash. So, he’s crashing in Jeno’s room. You know, the room he used to have.”
You winced internally, knowing how much Jeno prized his personal space. “And Jeno?” you asked, bracing yourself for the inevitable.
Before Mark could answer, Hendery plopped down in the chair next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders in a casual one-armed hug. His grin was impossibly wide and mischievous. “What about my roommate?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a teasing manner.
“You can’t just barge into his space like that!” you said, giving him a pointed look.
Hendery leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. “Oh? Are you worried about Jeno?”
“Yes!” you shot back, giving his cheek a gentle nudge. “You should find yourself a dorm or something!”
“Why would I do that?” Hendery asked with a playful glint in his eye. “I’m having too much fun hanging out with your crush.”
“Is that you, Hendery?” You heard Yangyang’s voice cut through the chatter. Turning, you saw him approaching with Jeno by his side.
Your heart did a little leap at the sight of Jeno, and you felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks. Jeno’s eyes met yours for a fleeting moment before he looked away, his expression hard to read.
Flustered, you started smacking Hendery’s arm repeatedly until he finally loosened his hold on you. Hendery stood up with a laugh, giving Yangyang a hearty clap on the back as they exchanged greetings. You pointed at the chair Hendery had just vacated, and without hesitation, Jeno moved past Hendery and settled into it.
Jeno turned to you with a soft, genuine smile. “How was class?” he asked, his voice gentle.
“Extremely boring,” you replied, leaning in slightly. Your tone was a mix of exasperation and relief.
Jeno chuckled, his gaze lingering on you with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. Before the conversation could go any deeper, your other friends arrived, and the table soon filled up with lively chatter. Jeno had hoped his strategic move would prevent Hendery from sitting next to you, but as the group settled in, Hendery took the seat to your other side, creating a subtle but noticeable competition.
Every laugh you shared with Hendery seemed to amplify the emotions Jeno was trying hard to suppress. His focus on you, his protective stance, and the way his smile faltered when Hendery made a particularly affectionate gesture spoke volumes about the feelings he was trying to conceal.
It didn’t help that you and Hendery had the same classes. After lunch, you gave Jeno a sweet goodbye before leaving with Hendery. Jeno appreciated the extra attention you gave him, but seeing you walk away with Hendery left him feeling deflated.
For the next few days, Jeno made an effort to avoid seeing you with Hendery. He found it easier to focus on his growing feelings for you when he wasn’t constantly reminded of his competition. His strategy seemed to work, allowing him to enjoy quiet afternoons with you in the library, share coffee dates, and savor each other’s company. But as the weekend approached and the group hangout at your apartment loomed, Jeno knew that the unresolved tension between him and Hendery was about to come to a head.
The living room of your apartment with Sienna was alive with warmth and energy as everyone settled in for the long-awaited hangout. It had been a while since the whole group had come together, and the space was buzzing with a mix of excitement and relaxation. The floor was strewn with pillows, snacks were piled high on the coffee table, and the entire room felt like a cozy, informal gathering spot.
You were comfortably nestled on the couch next to Jeno, with Kayla lounging on the carpet with her head resting between your knees. Across from you, Mark and Renjun were in a light-hearted debate about which movie to watch later. Yangyang and Jaemin were sprawled on the floor, playing video games in their phones,while Sienna and Haechan were snuggling on the reclining chair by the large window, occasionally chiming in with the conversation despite being in their own separate bubble.
Hendery emerged from the kitchen, his grin as mischievous as ever. He handed out cans of drinks, making sure to give you and Jeno each a beer before plopping down beside you on the couch. Jeno, who had been relatively quiet since arriving, was perched on the other side of you, his eyes flickering between you and Hendery, taking in the easy vibe between you two.
Hendery’s casual proximity and the way he seemed to effortlessly include himself in the group contrasted sharply with Jeno’s more reserved demeanor. The evening progressed with laughter, conversation, and occasional moments of playful banter, but beneath it all, the unspoken competition and Jeno’s quiet contemplation were ever-present.
“So, Hendery,” Jaemin started with a teasing grin, “what kind of mischief did you get up to this past year? We heard rumors that you single-handedly kept the campus entertainment scene alive.”
Hendery chuckled, leaning back comfortably and draping an arm on the backrest behind you. “I wouldn’t say single-handedly, but I definitely added some flair to the dull parties.” He gave a wink, and the group chuckled. “Let’s just say it was a wild year and leave it at that.”
“Wild, my foot,” you jeered. “Didn’t seem so wild when you called me every day at three in the morning, convinced that your dorm was haunted.”
Everyone laughed, and Hendery groaned dramatically. “Okay, that was only for the first week! And I stand by it—those noises were not normal. When I moved to a different dorm, everything was much better.”
“Speaking of, how’s the rooming situation, Jeno?” Renjun asked turning the attention to Jeno.
Jeno shrugged, trying to play it cool. “It’s... fine. Hendery’s not the worst roommate I’ve had.”
“Not the worst?” Hendery echoed with mock offense. “I think I’m pretty great, actually.”
Jeno gave a half-smile. “You’re definitely something.”
“Do you mean that in a good way or a bad way?” Kayla teased, leaning in with a grin.
Mark chimed in, smirking. “Knowing Jeno, I’m guessing it’s somewhere in the middle.”
Jaemin laughed. “Come on, Jeno. Admit it—you secretly love having him around.”
Jeno forced a smile, shrugging. “He does keep things interesting, I’ll give him that.”
“You hear that?” Hendery said, looking delighted. “I’m officially interesting!”
“You’re officially a pain,” Haechan muttered, but his grin gave him away. The room burst into laughter, and the conversation flowed effortlessly.
Hendery grinned at Jeno. “Jeno’s pretty chill, though. And it’s only temporary. I’m looking into getting my own place in the same building.”
Kayla eyed Jeno. “So, you’re surviving, huh? No more ghost stories at midnight?”
“Not yet, but I’m keeping my ears open,” Jeno said, glancing at you with a subtle smile.
“Don’t worry, Jeno, I’m sure you’ll get used to him,” you teased, sharing a playful look with Hendery. “And if he starts getting spooked again, just give me a call. I’ll give you the lowdown on handling him.”
Hendery laughed, nudging you gently. “See? She knows how to deal with me.”
Mark chimed in, “It’s simple. Just smack him if he starts talking about ghosts.”
Hendery feigned a pout. “That’s not very nice.”
“Yeah. But you’ll find that the back of his head is much much more effective,” you added.
Hendery gasped in mock horror. “Et tu, Brute?”
You laughed, giving him a playful shove. “It’s for your own good.”
Jeno’s smile tightened slightly, his eyes lingering on the way you and Hendery interacted so effortlessly. The jokes, the shared stories—it was clear that you two had a history, one that was filled with memories and inside jokes that Jeno wasn’t a part of.
“Alright, enough about me,” Hendery said, waving a hand dismissively. “What’s been going on with you guys? I’ve been out of the loop for way too long.” He pointed across the room where Sienna and Haechan were cozied up together. “Especially that. When did that happen? And why?”
The conversation flowed smoothly after that, with everyone chiming in with their own stories and updates. You and Hendery continued to share a few more teasing comments, occasionally slipping into old jokes that made everyone laugh—even Jeno, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
As the evening went on, the group settled into a comfortable rhythm. But every now and then, Jeno’s gaze would drift to you, watching the way you laughed at Hendery’s stories, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke to him. And though he tried to brush it off, a small knot of jealousy twisted in his chest, making him wonder just how close you and Hendery had been—and what that might mean for him now.
Jaemin, having known Jeno for a long time, noticed the tension and his dilemma. “noticed Jeno’s quiet unease. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low enough to be heard only by Jeno.
Jeno laughed softly, the sound lacking its usual warmth. From his spot by the kitchen counter, he could see you playing rock-paper-scissors with Hendery, Mark, and Kayla. “Honestly? No. I’m not,” he admitted, grateful to have someone to vent to.
Jaemin sighed, leaning against the counter beside him. “I should’ve warned you sooner about Hendery. You don’t have to worry, though. You see how I mess around with her, right? The flirting and all that? It’s fake, as you already know. She’s close with all of us, but there’s nothing romantic going on.”
Jaemin paused, gauging Jeno’s reaction before continuing. “She’s comfortable being close to Mark. Yangyang is like her personal bodyguard. With Renjun, she can tell him anything and everything. Haechan’s like her mortal enemy, but it’s all in good fun.”
He hesitated, then added, “And Hendery? He’s like a combination of all of us. They’ve known each other for years, way before we came into the picture. But, as far as we know, there’s never been anything romantic between them. So, don’t stress. You’ll get used to it.”
Jeno forced a smile, but the knot in his chest didn’t loosen. Would he really get used to it? Did he even want to?
Kayla’s triumphant cheer filled the room, accompanied by your dramatic groan of defeat. Jeno watched as you, kneeling on the floor, wallowed in your loss. Hendery, grinning, poked your head playfully and called you a loser. You stood up and turned towards the kitchen, your face lighting up as soon as you saw Jeno. He returned your smile with a nod.
As you walked over, Jaemin gave Jeno a knowing glance and excused himself.
“What’s up?” you asked, casually taking Jeno’s hand in yours as you reached him.
Jeno smiled and shrugged. “Nothing much.”
“Would you like to come with us to the store?” you asked, your eyes gleaming with excitement. “We lost to Kayla and Mark, so we need to go buy refills.”
“With Hendery?” Jeno asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.
You nodded. “Yeah. He’s being a pain, so I could use some backup. Please?”
Jeno nodded, knowing full well he could never say ‘no’ to you. “Alright, I’m in.”
The walk to the convenience store was cold and you were bundled up in Hendery and Jeno’s jackets, which you thought was odd but gladly took it in stride. Under the streetlights, your figures cast long shadows on the sidewalk and you could see how short you looked between the two guys, sandwiched between their taller frames—a strangely comforting feeling.
Hendery was talking about the noticeable changes in the neighborhood, pointing out things that were now gone and others that he knew weren’t there before.
“Did Wok’n’Roll close down?” he asked, his tone carrying a hint of nostalgia as you passed by a stationery store that now stood where the Chinese restaurant used to be.
“Not really,” you replied, your gaze lingering on the unfamiliar storefront. “They moved to a different location, but it’s too far from here now.”
“That’s too bad,” Hendery mused, his tone tinged with regret. “We used to eat there all the time.”
A soft scoff escaped your lips as memories of shared meals and laughter filled your mind. “Yeah, I was pretty bummed too. But it’s not like I can drive halfway across the state just to eat there. It was good, but not ‘three-hour road trip’ good.”
It was almost midnight, and the city had quieted down, with most places closed except for a few 24/7 diners, cafes, and convenience stores. The stillness of the night was soothing, the only sounds being your footsteps and the rustling of leaves in the cool breeze. As you reached the convenience store, its flickering neon lights cast a stark, familiar glow over the entrance. Stepping inside, you were met with the artificial warmth and the soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead.
You and Jeno moved through the aisles together, your steps falling into a comfortable rhythm as he carried the basket for you. Hendery, meanwhile, had wandered off, exploring the aisles with a casual curiosity.
“Aren’t you tired?” Jeno’s voice broke the quiet, concern evident as he added a pack of chips to the basket.
“Not really,” you replied with a light tone, glancing up at him. “I was a bit tipsy earlier, but the walk sobered me up.” Without thinking, you let Jeno link his index finger with your pinky, a small but intimate gesture that sent a warm flutter through your chest. You curled your pinky around his finger, holding on tightly as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “What about you?”
“I didn’t drink much,” he said, his smile softening as he looked down at your linked fingers. The sight of him watching your entwined hands made your cheeks flush, the simple act of holding hands feeling unexpectedly intimate.
“I think you’re obsessed with me,” you teased, trying to mask the giddiness bubbling up inside you with a playful nonchalance.
Jeno chuckled, the sound low and genuine. “I might be,” he admitted, his eyes twinkling with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat.
The moment’s intimacy lingered as you regrouped with Hendery at the counter. He took the basket from you, effortlessly laying out the items for the cashier while striking up a casual conversation with the store clerk. Hendery’s ease with people, his ability to make anyone feel at ease, was something you’d always admired.
Jeno, however, seemed lost in thought. He gently tugged your arm, catching your attention. When you looked at him, he tilted his head towards the exit, a silent invitation to step outside. You tapped Hendery on the shoulder to let him know, “We’ll wait for you outside.”
“Okay,” Hendery replied, his focus still on the cashier as he continued his conversation.
The moment you stepped outside, the soothing patter of rain greeted you. The soft drizzle had started while you were inside, and the raindrops glistening under the streetlights made everything feel more intimate and serene. The world seemed to slow down as you stood side by side with Jeno, watching the rain together.
A yawn escaped you, and Jeno moved closer, concern etched in his voice. “You said you’re not tired,” he said softly.
“I was just yawning,” you reassured him with a quiet laugh. The sound seemed to ease his worry, though there was still a glimmer of something in his eyes that tugged at your heart.
In a gentle motion, Jeno unlinked his finger from yours and took your hand fully in his. The warmth of his hand was a comforting contrast to the cool rain falling around you. Leaning into his arm, you felt the steady rise and fall of his breath, the solid presence of him grounding you in the moment.
You stood there in silence, the rain creating a soothing backdrop. It was in these quiet moments that you felt the most at peace, with Jeno’s presence and the warmth of his hand making you feel seen and alive.
Finally, Jeno broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with emotion. “There’s something I have to tell you,” he said, staring at the rain-soaked street as if searching for the right words.
“What is it?” you asked gently, not wanting to rush him.
Jeno turned to face you, his gaze intense and filled with emotion. “I am in love with you. I hope you’re okay with that.”
His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Your heart raced, a mix of surprise and joy swirling inside you. Without thinking, you cupped his face in your hands, the rain falling around you as you closed the distance between you. Your lips met his in a kiss that started soft and tentative but quickly deepened as all the emotions you’d both been holding back surged to the surface.
Jeno’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more urgent and passionate. It felt like everything he had been holding back was pouring out in this moment, and you responded with equal intensity. The rain continued to fall, but neither of you cared, lost in the warmth of each other’s embrace.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts. You looked into Jeno’s eyes, searching for reassurance that this was real, that his confession wasn’t just a fleeting moment.
“I’m more than okay with it,” you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with certainty.
His smile was radiant, brighter than you had ever seen. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you into another kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your bubble of newfound love.
“Oh, wow, right in front of my sour patch strips,” Hendery’s voice broke through the moment, dripping with exaggerated disbelief.
Startled, you and Jeno pulled apart, laughter bubbling up despite the surprise. Hendery stood at the store entrance, his eyes wide with mock horror and a sour patch strip dangling from his mouth like a comedic prop. He was piled high with the snacks you’d picked out, making the scene even more absurd. Jeno quickly took the other bag of snacks from Hendery.
“Kids these days,” Hendery continued, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. “Right by the entrance too? Unbelievable.”
Jeno’s chuckle was warm and genuine, his gaze meeting yours with amusement and affection. You exchanged a knowing look, the earlier magic of the kiss still shimmering between you, even as Hendery’s interruption brought you back to the present.
The taxi ride back to your apartment was filled with a comforting silence, broken only by the hum of the engine and the rhythmic patter of rain against the windows. Hendery sat beside you, occasionally sneaking in a teasing glance, his lips curling into a smirk as he watched you and Jeno. You wanted to retort, to fire back with your own quip, but your mind and heart were consumed by the whirlwind of emotions that Jeno had stirred up. His hand, warm and steady in yours, would give a gentle squeeze every now and then, silently asking for your attention, and you’d meet his gaze, feeling a flutter in your chest each time.
Back at your apartment, your friends were blissfully unaware of the quiet revelations from the evening. Drinks were poured, conversations flowed, and your usually quiet nook in this big city was filled with laughter and cheer. Amidst the chatter and merriment, no one seemed to notice how Jeno stayed close to you all evening—his tender touches, the soft whispers, and the quiet laughter shared only between the two of you, creating a warm glow that seemed to envelop you both.
As the night wound down and your friends began to leave, Jeno lingered by your bedroom door, his shoulder resting against the frame as he looked at you with that same tender gaze from earlier. "I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, his voice soft, almost hesitant, as if he, too, was reluctant to let this moment end.
“You can stay, you know,” you told him, looking up to meet his gaze, a sweet smile playing on your lips.
“I would love to, but…” He glanced toward the living room where Jaemin and Mark were sprawled out on the couch, half-asleep and completely drunk. “Someone’s gotta get these morons home.”
Just then, Hendery stumbled out of the bathroom, his earlier cool demeanor replaced by a disheveled look and a pout that made him seem younger than his years. His eyes were bleary as he took in the scene, blinking slowly. “Are we sleeping over?” he mumbled, frowning as he rubbed his temples.
“I called a cab. They’ll be here soon,” Jeno replied, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Good. Can’t sleep here. There’s a weird ringing sound… it’s creeping me out,” Hendery muttered, words slurred, barely coherent. He shuffled over to the couch and wedged himself between Jaemin and Mark.
You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to Jeno. “Pretty sure that’s just the alcohol in his head.”
Jeno chuckled, the sound warm and familiar, resonating in the quiet of your room. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” you whispered back, rising onto your tiptoes to kiss him on the lips, savoring the warmth that spread through you at the touch.
Neither of you moved to leave. Instead, you lingered there, standing close, your hand still resting on his arm. A moment of comfortable silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken words and shared smiles. Jeno’s thumb brushed gently over the back of your hand, and you found yourself leaning closer to him, not wanting to break the spell.
“Did you see how Yangyang tried to challenge Jaemin to a dance-off earlier?” you asked out of nowhere.
Jeno laughed softly, shaking his head. “I missed that. Who won?”
“Jaemin, by default. Yangyang nearly fell over trying to do some kind of spin,” you grinned, eyes twinkling with amusement.
“That sounds about right,” he replied, squeezing your hand lightly. “Shame I didn’t see that.”
“You were literally sitting there with me,” you scoffed, unconvinced.
“Yeah, well, I was busy staring at you,” he replied without missing a beat, catching you off-guard.
You gawked at him for a moment, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips. “Oh shut up!” you chastised once you found your voice, hitting his chest lightly.
Jeno held your fist, keeping them pressed on his chest as he leaned to kiss you cheek. “It’s true. I will never lie to you.”
“You lied to me about being the mafia earlier though,” you retorted, narrowing your eyes at him.
He threw his head back laughing. “That was necessary.”
“Nah, you’re just a liar,” you quipped.
The conversation kept drifting from one topic to another, neither of you making any move to end it. You talked about random things—Renjun’s ridiculous laugh during the movie earlier, Haechan and Sienna sneaking into her bedroom, Hendery’s questionable cocktail, and even the weather forecast for the next day.
Every time you thought Jeno would finally say goodbye, another thought seemed to cross his mind, another comment made you both chuckle, and neither of you seemed willing to let the moment slip away.
Then, Jeno’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at it, the glow of the screen lighting up his face. “The taxi’s here,” he said reluctantly.
You felt a small pang of disappointment but managed to smile. “It’s okay. You’ll see me again tomorrow.”
“Right, I will,” Jeno smiled contently before walking over to the couch to wake the others. You watched as they stirred, stretched, and yawn before filing up to the door.
You walked them to the cramped foyer as they muttered their thanks and bid you goodnight. Jeno had them wait in front of the elevator in the hallway before going back to your apartment door for a proper goodbye. He scooped you up in his arms, pressing a firm kiss on your lips.
“Goodbye, Jeno,” you told him after you pulled away.
“Goodbye,” he said, his smile wide and radiant.
When he didn’t make a move to leave, you cocked your head to your dazed friends in the hallway. “You should go before Hendery starts complaining about the ringing again.”
“Right,” Jeno said, but his hand still lingered on the doorknob, his gaze locked with yours. He took a small step forward, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll text you when I get home, okay?”
“I’ll probably be asleep before then,” you nodded, your voice softer now. “But okay.”
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jeno gave you one last kiss—a lingering, gentle press of his lips against yours—before finally stepping back. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Jeno,” you whispered, watching him as he finally turned and left.
Even as the door closed, you stayed there for a moment, the warmth of his presence still lingering in the halls of your apartment You locked the door behind you, and went to your bedroom, glancing briefly at Sienna’s door where she and Haechan are probably already asleep. As you finally crawled into bed, the soft patter of rain against the window filled the room, bringing a smile to your lips. The memory of Jeno’s touch was still vivid, the warmth of his kiss lingering like a secret just for you.
It was almost unbelievable, how much had changed between you. Jeno, who once seemed so distant, like a dream you could never quite reach, had just confessed his love to you. It was like stepping into a whole new world—one you’d only ever dared to imagine. You went from being the girl with a secret crush to someone whose feelings were returned in the most beautiful way possible.
As you lay back on your bed, your fingers brushed against your lips, still tingling from the kisses you shared. You’d spent countless nights dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him, to feel his lips against yours, and now that it had actually happened, it was even better than you had ever imagined.
You thought of the way Jeno had looked at you just before he confessed, the mix of nervousness and hope in his eyes making your heart race. The way he had leaned in, the gentleness of his touch—it had all felt so real, so right, that it was almost hard to believe it wasn’t a dream.
You knew it was coming. You had been seeing the signs these last few days. You’d felt the growing connection between you, but still, nothing could have prepared you for the reality of hearing those words, of feeling that kiss.
As you drifted off to sleep, a contented sigh escaped your lips. The night might have ended, but the magic of it was far from over.
That weekend with Jeno felt like a dream—a series of perfect moments strung together in a blur of happiness. You found yourselves tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, surrounded by the scent of old books and the soft, steady rustle of pages turning. Jeno, originally engrossed in an ancient cartography book, eventually gave in to the peaceful lull of the afternoon, his head resting gently on the desk beside you.
You glanced at him, a smile tugging at your lips as you reached out, your fingers brushing through his dark hair in a tender, almost absentminded gesture. The warmth of his presence and the steady rise and fall of his breathing felt like a comforting blanket, wrapping around you as you lost yourself in the words on the page.
After a while, Jeno stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he shifted closer to you. “What are you reading?” he whispered, his voice hushed, still thick with sleep, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
You smiled, tilting your head to let him get closer. His arms snaked around your waist beneath the desk, pulling you closer. “A poetry collection. It’s one of my favorites,” you replied.
He hummed in contentment, warm breath fanning your skin. “Read me a line?” he murmured in a tone that was soft and inviting.
You flipped back a few pages, your eyes landing on a passage that had always struck a chord with you. With a mischievous grin, you began, “And so I’ll see the railway track, and lay my head upon the rail, And sight the dark and distant train…”
Before you could finish, Jeno bolted upright, his eyes wide with alarm. The startled look on his face made you burst into laughter, but you continued with the same mock-seriousness, “And hear its thunder louder roll, Coming to crush my cursed brain… Oh God, have mercy on my soul!”
For a moment, you both stared at each other, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. Your laughter bubbled up uncontrollably, and you nudged him with your elbow. “Come on, say something.”
Jeno blinked, his bewilderment slowly melting into a sheepish smile. “What the heck was that?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck, his voice laced with playful exasperation.
After dinner, you found yourselves wandering through a quaint little stationery shop that caught your eye. The shelves were lined with pens, notebooks, and little trinkets that you could spend hours browsing through. Jeno watched with amused affection as you debated with yourself over a pen that you found too cute to leave behind. He didn’t rush you, letting you indulge yourself.
“This is too cute,” you gushed, twirling it between your fingers.
Jeno chuckled, nudging you lightly. “Since you like it so much, why don’t you just buy it?”
You sighed, shoulders sagging. “Do I really need another pen?”
“You probably don’t, but if you want it…” he trailed off, shrugging. “Go for it.”
You grumbled but took the pen anyway. “At this rate, I’ll have enough pens to open my own store.”
His eyes softened, and he pulled you closer by the waist. “Then maybe you can write me love letters with each one,” he said playfully, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead amidst the colorful aisles.
“Don’t tempt me because I might do just that,” you told him, and the two of you laughed on your way to the counter.
When you returned to your apartment, it was still early enough to watch a movie. You both settled in your bedroom, the lights dimmed, a blanket draped over your legs as the film played on the screen of your laptop. But your attention wasn’t on the movie—it was on the way Jeno’s arm rested around your shoulders, how his fingers absentmindedly played with the ends of your hair.
The movie soon became nothing more than a distant murmur, easily overshadowed by the warmth of Jeno’s presence beside you. His fingers continued to toy with the ends of your hair, each gentle touch sending a shiver down your spine. You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.
Jeno’s gaze shifted from the screen to you, his eyes soft and filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. Without a word, he leaned down, brushing his lips against your temple in a feather-light kiss. You smiled, turning your face slightly to meet his gaze. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered at that moment—made your breath catch.
His gaze lingered on you, and without a word, he leaned down, brushing his lips against your temple in a gentle kiss. You closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch. The way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world, made your heart race.
“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?” Jeno’s voice was a soft murmur, his breath warm against your skin.
You blushed, meeting his eyes. “I don’t know if I believe that,” you teased, though you could feel the fluttering in your chest.
He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “It’s true. You always look beautiful to me.”
The moment felt electric. Jeno’s lips hovered close to yours, a silent question hanging in the air. You leaned in, closing the gap between you. Your lips met his in a kiss that was soft and tentative at first, but soon deepened, growing more intense as you both melted into the connection.
Jeno’s hand slipped from your hair to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he tilted your head slightly to angle the kiss just right. You could feel the heat of his touch, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, making everything else fade away.
His other hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer until there was hardly any space left between you. Your hands, almost on instinct, wound around his neck, fingers threading through his hair as you lost yourselves in the moment.When you gave his lip a soft bite, Jeno let out a deep, satisfied groan that made your head spiral. His hand trailed down from your waist to your thigh, lifting it slightly so it’s wrapping around his torso.
You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your forehead resting against his. You could feel his breath against your lips, still heavy with the aftermath of your kiss. The way he looked at you—his eyes half-lidded, lips slightly swollen—made your heart race all over again.
“You know, I was actually, genuinely, with no ulterior motives whatsoever, hoping to watch this movie,” Jeno whispered, his voice hushed, almost amused.
You chuckled softly, glancing at the screen where the movie was still running. “I think we missed most of it,” you admitted, your own voice barely above a whisper.
Jeno grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “I’m totally okay with that,” he replied, lifting your chin as he drew you back into another kiss.
And as you let your heart go where it wanted to go, you knew without a doubt that this was exactly where you were meant to be.
As soon as you met up with your friends, you could barely contain your excitement. The words practically tumbled out of your mouth before anyone could even ask. Sitting in your usual spot at the food court for lunch, you dropped the news.
“Jeno and I are together now,” you announced, a triumphant smile plastered across your face. You were ready for the gasps, the shrieks, the dramatic reactions. After all, this was big news.
Renjun raised an eyebrow, sipping his coffee nonchalantly. “Good for you.”
You blinked, a little taken aback by the casualness of her response. Kayla clapped her hands quietly, smiling to congratulate you. Olive copied her but both of them didn’t seem surprised at all. Haechan was just scrolling through his phone.
“Wait, is that it?” you asked, confused. “I thought you’d be surprised.”
Your friends exchanged glances, their reactions surprisingly subdued. Olive shrugged, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Uh, we kind of figured that out already.”
You blinked, taken aback. “What? How? When? Was it last weekend? We were practically inseparable then!”
Kayla chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Sweetie, you two have been inseparable for weeks. We’ve all seen it coming.”
“Honestly, I thought you two were already a thing,” Renjun chimed in, stirring her drink lazily.
“But I thought we were being subtle,” you said, your voice trailing off in disbelief.
Haechan snorted, not lifting his eyes from his screen. “Yeah, about as subtle as a flashing neon sign.”
“I’m pretty sure the only reason we didn’t say anything was because we assumed you wanted to keep it low-key,” Kayla added.
You groaned, leaning back in your seat. “And here I was thinking I was dropping a bombshell.”
Olive grinned, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze. “We’re happy for you, though! Even if you’re terrible at keeping secrets.”
“Yes, we’re so happy for you,” Kayla said, grinning. “But you’re not getting off that easy.”
You frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Details,” Kayla demanded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “We need all the details. How did he confess? Was it as cute as we’ve been imagining?”
“Wait,” Olive interjected. “You’re not the one who confessed, are you?”
You didn’t get to answer them because your other friends soon arrived, making the space livelier with their chatter and greetings. Hendery slid on the long chair next to you, giving you a mischievous grin. You rolled your eyes at him, turning away in feigned annoyance. As you did, you spotted Jeno and your face lit up. You waved happily at him.
“Oh, shit. I forgot about him,” Hendery muttered next to you, rising to his feet to move elsewhere.
Jeno smiled gratefully at Hendery as he claimed the seat next to you. Glancing at you with a sweet smile, he said, “How was class?”
You shrugged. “You already know how they are.”
“Extremely boring?” he said, echoing the same answer you’d always given him.
You nodded, smiling as he took your hand under the table, intertwining your fingers with his and resting them on his thigh. You and your friends talked over a hearty meal. And while you had expected them to at least be surprised that you and Jeno were finally dating, you realized that it was better that their attentions were elsewhere.
Jeno was more attentive than usual, making sure you were eating well, refilling your water, and just generally being… boyfriend-y. You had initially thought you’d be detached from your circle during lunch, that all of your attention would be directed at Jeno. But it seemed like your friends were right, the signs were already there. It was as if nothing had changed at all.
“I should get to class,” Kayla said after checking the time on her watch.
“Oh crap, me too,” Olive added. One by one, your friends started dispersing, rushing to their classes or heading back home.
“Let’s go, babygirl,” Hendery said in a sing-song, standing up and slinging his backpack over one shoulder.
Without thinking much about it out of habit, you stood up to oblige, and Jeno held the hem of your shirt to stop you. You glanced at him inquiringly.
“Let’s go together,” he said with a slight scowl.
“Oh, okay,” you replied, sitting back down.
For a moment, it hit you that being together with Jeno meant you’d start doing things as a couple, and that might mean figuring out what’s okay with friends and what isn’t.
“Bye Deryry,” you grinned at Hendery, waving a hand. “Have fun being lonely.”
Hendery grimaced. “I hate it when you get a boyfriend.”
“Bye-bye!” you teased, sticking your tongue out. Deep inside, the word ‘boyfriend’ is echoing in your mind. It was a seemingly ordinary term but it made you fee giddy—as it was the label that cemented the reality of your relationship with Jeno.
After Hendery was finally out of earshot, Jeno pouted at you, “Why does he call you that?”
“What? babygirl?” you asked, and he nodded. “He’s been calling me that for ages.”
“I see. But why?” he asked, shifting slightly in his seat and brushing something off your shoulder.
You shrugged. “I forgot the exact reason, but I do know it wasn’t nice. He calls me babygirl as an insult.”
Jeno’s pout didn’t disappear as he twirled some strands of your hair around his finger, lifting them to his nose. “Sounds more like an endearment to me.”
You shuddered at the thought. “Trust me, it isn’t. Ask any of our friends—or my parents. He used to always call me that to make fun of me. It kind of just stuck after all these years.”
“Okay, I trust you,” he said, leaning in to kiss your cheek.
Ooh, is my boyfriend showing a bit of jealousy on our first week together?” you teased.
“I’ll have you know that I’m a very jealous man,” Jeno replied with a grin.
You snorted. “That’s funny because I’m a very jealous woman.”
“Good. I like my women jealous.”
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow. “Which of your exes was the most jealous?”
Jeno seemed to think for a moment before grinning. “I could answer that, but it feels like a trap.”
You smirked. “Oh, so you remember which one? She must have been pretty memorable.”
Jeno burst into laughter, throwing his head back. “Not memorable enough to have my friends challenge their team to a sports game just to get back at them, though.”
You paused, momentarily confused, then remembered the time you cheered for Mark during a basketball game against your ex’s team. “Hey, how did you even know about that?”
Jeno’s grin widened. “You were so passionate. Even more so than when you cheered for me at the Sports’ Fest championship.”
“My god,” you blurted, covering your mouth out of embarrassment. “Well, for the record, it was two different kinds of passion. I hated my ex, but I liked you!” you declared, pressing your index finger against his chest.
He caught your finger, holding it close to his heart, grinning cheekily. “That’s how long you’ve liked me?”
“No. I liked you long before that.”
“Did you? Really?”
“Yes. I liked you the first time I saw you at the library in my hometown.”
He frowned. “That’s the first time you saw me?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think so.”
“It’s true!”
Walking to your class, Jeno told you about the time he first saw you, how deeply intriguing you were and how much of an impression you left on him. He told you how that cascaded into a series of events and encounters that led to this—this right now, the two of you, holding hands along the hallways of NCIT as he walked you to your class. The unexpected memories—all of it made you realize just how deeply your lives had been intertwined, even before you were fully aware of it.
“So, what other secrets are you hiding from me?” you asked stopping in front of your classroom.
Jeno’s grin turned mischievous. “Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”
“I think I can manage that. But for now, I have class,” you whispered, sealing the promise with another kiss, knowing that with Jeno, every day would be a new adventure.
When you and Jeno were alone together, it felt like the world shrank to just the two of you. Whether you were tangled up together or quietly doing your own thing, there was a peaceful contentment in the air. This afternoon was no different. You spent most of the day in bed, editing your thesis proposal on your laptop, while Jeno was beside you, sometimes engrossed in a book, other times wandering around the house doing little chores.
After finally finishing your work, you realized Jeno had been gone for a while. You closed your laptop and went looking for him, eager to enjoy his company after hours of academic drudgery.
You found him on the couch, deeply focused on his phone, his thumbs flying over the screen. Your heart swelled at the sight of him, and without thinking, you hopped onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “What are you up to?” you asked, your voice playful, your lips brushing his ear.
Jeno didn’t look up, but the corners of his mouth lifted as you kissed his cheek. “Playing a game with the guys,” he replied, still absorbed in his phone. He leaned into your kiss as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Finished with your thesis?”
“Finally,” you sighed, resting your head against his chest and feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. “Can you put that down for a sec? I want some cuddles.”
Jeno’s lips curled into a smile as he kept tapping on his screen. “Cuddles and kisses?”
You hummed in agreement, your fingers trailing along the back of his neck. “Yes, please.”
“Alright, just give me a second…” he said, his voice trailing off as he focused on what you assumed was a crucial moment in his game.
Unable to resist teasing him, you kissed his cheek again, then his nose. Sensing what was coming, Jeno pursed his lips, clearly anticipating a kiss. Smirking, you decided to have some fun. Instead of kissing his lips, you kissed his other cheek, then his forehead, and back to his nose, deliberately avoiding his waiting lips.
Jeno chuckled softly, finally looking up from his phone. “What are you doing?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes as he leaned in for a proper kiss.
You dodged at the last second, kissing his forehead instead, grinning mischievously.
Jeno tutted, pretending to be exasperated, though his eyes were full of affection. “You little tease,” he murmured, setting his phone aside. He shifted to wrap his arms around you, pulling you close until there was no space left between you. “Stay still,” he said, his voice low and commanding, as he cupped your face in his hands and leaned in for a soft, lingering kiss.
The kiss was slow and sweet, each moment a reminder of how much you meant to each other. When you finally pulled away, Jeno’s eyes were warm and full of love, his smile as lovely as ever. “See? That’s more like it.”
You pouted, pretending to be indifferent even though butterflies fluttered in your stomach. “Be honest, you’re obsessed with me, aren’t you?”
Jeno scoffed loudly, as if offended by the suggestion. “I thought you knew that already?” he said with a laugh, tightening his hold around your waist. “That’s it. Let’s go back to bed.”
“What? Why?” you whined, though you made no move to resist. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent. “I’ve been in bed all day.”
“Don’t care,” Jeno declared, his tone light but insistent. “I need to show you exactly how obsessed I am with you.”
Before you could protest, Jeno scooped you up in his arms and stood, carrying you toward the bedroom. You squealed with laughter, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he marched you back to bed.
Three months had passed since you and Jeno first started dating, and life had never felt more perfectly chaotic. The two of you had settled into a comfortable rhythm, the kind that comes with knowing someone as deeply as you did. But as much as your relationship with Jeno blossomed, your friendships remained just as important.
Your group of friends had become something of a family—a loud, boisterous, and wonderfully supportive family. The cafeteria was buzzing with its usual lunchtime energy as your group settled into your usual spot. Kayla was already in full swing, her sharp tongue and quick wit keeping everyone entertained.
“So, Olive,” Kayla started with a smirk, “are you going to force us to pose for you again today? I’m still recovering from last week’s ‘artistic vision’.”
Olive rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. “Please, Kayla, you’re practically a natural in front of the camera. I’m just trying to help you discover your true calling.”
“Yeah, right,” Kayla shot back. “I think I’ll stick to law school, thanks.”
You laughed along with them, leaning into Jeno, who was sitting comfortably beside you. His hand found yours under the table, fingers lacing together with ease. Olive caught the movement and raised her camera, pretending to take a candid shot.
“There! That’s the perfect shot—lovebirds in their natural habitat,” Olive teased.
You played along, giving her a mock-serious look. “At least make sure we look good. I don’t want to be tagged in another one of your experimental edits.”
Olive giggled. “No promises!”
Hendery slid into the seat beside Olive, peeking at the camera. Olive showed it to him, saying, “They look great, don’t they?”
Hendery grimaced. “No. They look obscenely happy. It’s making me sick.”
Jeno smirked, grinning. “Jealous much? Don’t worry, you’ll always be her second favorite.”
Hendery laughed, nudging Jeno with his shoulder. “Second favorite? Please, Jeno, I’m at least tied for first.”
You shook your head at their banter, but you couldn’t help smiling. “You guys aren’t even in my top three.”
Jeno and Hendery stared at you for a hot minute, appalled. You snickered. “I’m serious. Sienna is my number one…”
Kayla raised a hand, “I’m her number two.”
“Three!” Olive added.
Hendery and Jeno exchanged looks. “So I’m number four?” asked Hendery, pointing to himself.
“No you’re not,” Jeno said, shaking his head.
“You guys need to stop doing that, seriously,” you chided, scowling at Hnedery across the table.
Hendery pretended to think about it. “Hmm, nah. Request denied. It’s fun watching Jeno get all territorial.”
“I’m not territorial,” Jeno muttered, but the playful tone in his voice betrayed him.
Hendery leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms with a satisfied smile. “Sure, you’re not.”
Across the table, Jaemin and Yangyang were locked in their usual debate, this time over which video game was superior. Renjun, sitting between them, looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but was too polite to say so.
“I’m telling you, ‘Realm of Legends’ has the best graphics,” Jaemin insisted, waving his fork for emphasis.
Yangyang shook his head. “Graphics aren’t everything, dude. ‘Dragon Quest’ has a better storyline.”
Renjun sighed dramatically. “Or we could all just agree that you’re both nerds and call it a day?”
Jaemin shot him a playful glare. “Says the guy who spent all weekend building a virtual city.”
“It’s called architecture, Jaemin. You wouldn’t understand,” Renjun retorted with a smirk, earning a chuckle from the group.
Meanwhile, Mark was unusually quiet, his attention fixed on his phone. You noticed the faint smile playing on his lips and couldn’t resist leaning over to nudge him.
“Oh my God, Mark!” you exclaimed, drawing the attention of everyone at the table. “Who’s got you all smiley?”
Mark’s head snapped up, his cheeks instantly turning red. “W-What? No one! It’s just...a friend.”
“A friend, huh?” Olive said, her tone dripping with disbelief. “A friend who happens to be making you blush like that?”
Jaemin leaned in, grinning mischievously. “Is it that girl from Hyunjin’s party? You’ve been texting her a lot lately.”
Mark’s face grew even redder, and he tried to hide behind his phone. “It’s nothing serious, really. We’re just talking.”
“Talking,” Kayla repeated, drawing out the word like it was the most scandalous thing in the world. “Mark, sweetie, you’re adorable.”
You and the girls burst into laughter, much to Mark’s dismay. But underneath all the teasing, you were genuinely happy for him. It wasn’t every day that Mark got close to someone, and seeing him this flustered was a good sign.
Across the table, Haechan and Sienna were sharing an inside joke, whispering and giggling like the adorable couple they were. Haechan caught you watching and flashed you a cheeky grin.
“What? Don’t be jealous. You’ve got your own boyfriend now,” he teased, nudging Jeno with his elbow.
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips as you glanced at Jeno.
Kayla groaned dramatically. “I swear, if you two start being all cutesy, I’m moving to another table.”
As the lunch period wound down, you leaned closer to Jeno, your head resting on his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head, and you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the moment sink in. Life was good, and with your friends by your side—and Jeno’s hand in yours—it could only get better.
And as you sat there, surrounded by the people who meant the most to you, you knew that this is exactly where you want to be. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
[fin]
#jeno fanfic#jeno x reader#jeno imagines#jeno fluff#jeno x you#jeno x y/n#nct fanfic#nct fic recs#nct dream fluff#nct dream x reader#nct dream imagines#nct x y/n#nct x reader#nct x you#lee jeno x reader#lee jeno#nct jeno#calcali#nct fic#nct dream scenarios#nct dream x female reader#nct dream x you#lee jeno imagines#lee jeno fluff#lee jeno x you
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Things I Can't Stop Thinking About Since the Gravity Falls Renaissance; An Overly Long Compilation
• It's mostly a joke-y cartoon thing but holy shit Dipper wakes up screaming kind of a lot??? How long has he been doing that for?? How long will he *be* doing it for??
• Stan had to basically teach himself advanced physics and complex multidimensional theories. He had the advantage of the portal mostly being built and having a bunch of the notes post-Bill, but still!! He had to learn how to operate the damn thing! I highly doubt Ford wrote about the portal in the same accessible manner he wrote about cryptids, especially as he spiraled into paranoia. The machinations of the portal weren't meant to be shared with the layperson, it just wouldn't be practical information for most people to have.
(also notable that he went through the whole process of learning how to operate the portal not only through pages and pages of dense code, but with the background of a 1970s highschool education and literally nothing else that would be relevant. Ford works really hard, but this is also stuff that comes to him very naturally. Designing a functioning portal wasn't the hard part. The hard part was getting the idea for the portal in the first place and knowing what to do with it. This shit is so ridiculously advanced and Stan is not an academic mind by any means. No wonder it took 30 years, he had to keep up a fake life and fund his project while grinding away at advanced quantum physics interdimensional whatever science wizard nonsense. I think about those 30 years a lot.)
• It doesn't really get addressed, but I think about Wendy being "super stressed out, like, all the time!" A lot. God, can you imagine living in the same house as Manly Dan? Let alone being the only girl there? Especially depending on when their mom left/died, she probably felt incredibly alone for a lot of her teen years. And given the Apocalypse Training it doesn't seem like Manly Dan is the most stable parent either.
• Stan, Ford, and Wendy could probably bond over having shitty holidays (and subsequently being forced into having awesome holidays when Mabel found out.) Filbrick took Stan and Ford to get free cinder block samples for Hanukkah, and the Corduroys did apocalypse training every year instead of Christmas.
• Pacifica still hears the voice of the Lumberjack ghost in her nightmares, but it's implied on the website that the Lumberfolk spirits have actually declared her under their protection since the events of Northwest Mansion Mystery. That means one of two things: that the ghost in her dreams is just her own guilt-ridden brain, or that the ghost has been appearing in her dreams to try and help her. I think about both options frequently.
• Stan struggles a lot of the time with physical activity, but that's mostly to do with age. He's actually really goddamn strong (beating down the zombies, punching a pterodactyl in the face, grabbing Ford and hoisting him up off the ground no problem, scaling scaffolding and holding the twins up by a rope one-handed). This makes the fact that Wendy beat him in an arm wrestling contest three times in a row way funnier.
• The way the Stans were almost definitely completely willing to beat a random guys ass so that Waddles could get on that bus. Stanford "Your math is no match for my gun you idiot!" Pines implicitly threatened to shoot a stranger with a Weird Sci-Fi Firearm for his great-niece. Stanley is even more direct. There is no confusing what brass knuckles will to to you. I also absolutely believe that they were not bluffing. One of them would've stolen the bus if the guy had mysteriously fallen unconscious due to unforseen circumstances.
• According to Soos, Tad Strange is crushing hard on Woodpecker Guy. Is this general town knowledge? Does everybody know that the Woodpecker marriage is on the rocks? How does one divorce a woodpecker? Alternatively, how does one get divorced *by* a woodpecker? Does Tad have a chance? Is this a small town scandal? Mr. Hirsch inquiring minds want to know. Has Toby Determined written a gossip column on this drama yet. Get your head in the game, Toby
#gravity falls#the book of bill#gf#tbob#stanley pines#stanford pines#dipper pines#mabel pines#pacifica northwest#wendy corduroy#tad strange#woodpecker guy#soos ramirez
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The World
A secret santa gift I made for the lovely, wonderful @liesmyth ! So excited to get to finally share it!!! :D
(Tarot meanings for the World card and some extra ramblings beneath the cut for those who are interested)
The World
Upright: Success, achievement, accomplishment, travel, completion, fulfilment, sense of belonging, wholeness
Reversed: Shortcuts, delays, seeking closure, incompletion, emptiness
"To encounter the World in your cards is to encounter a great unity and wholeness. It symbolizes the moment when the inner and the outer worlds - self and other - become a single entity. In some traditions, this state is described as enlightenment, or nirvana. There is a recognition that the individual self is profoundly linked with all other things, and that we all dance and sway along the flow of life to one rhythm. Not only do you hear this rhythm, but you participate in it - following the dips and the rises, the joys and the sorrows.
The meaning of the World card is fulfillment, achievement, and completion. This shows that all the efforts that you have been putting in place are starting to pay off. It reflects that you have completed a major milestone in your life and you have built the resilience to withstand challenges. The World may indicate completion of a long-term project, study or any other major event in your life. It may also mean the birth of a child, marriage, graduation or any other thing that you have accomplished.
The World card shows that you have a desire to give back to the community in various ways. You have a commitment to make the world a better place because you understand that everything is connected."
- Labyrinthos, The World
Ok and now for my unhinged rambling about Jamie motherfucking Tartt. Ahem.
Like. GUYS HES LITERALLY THIS CARD IN HIS S3 ERA AND IM NOT KIDDING. he’s the central cog!!! He’s the fulcrum of the triangle!! He’s total football! He’s the world’s most specialest puppydog-coded central attacking midfielder!! He’s the conductor, the playmaker, the literal heart and soul of AFC Richmond’s whole tactic!!!!! He means soooo fucking much to me you don’t even understand.
Yes I did take the bisexual Fibonacci spiral from Sunflowers and make it a key part of this card. If the universe didn’t want me to do that then it would have killed Jason Sudeikis before he could make that scene because my molecules have been forever altered.
(ps: ahem. stay tuned for some more AFC Richmond tarot! I’ve got a Roy in the works and plans for the rest of the main cast, though idk how far I’d follow it through. you could follow me and see what happens if you want 👉👈)
#like you guys GENUINELY don’t understand how insane I am about this thing that I have created#i love tarot so fuckin much when I saw that Elle had it on her list of things that she liked I literally went !!!#in the spirit of that…#stay tuned ;)#ted lasso tarot#<- might make that a silly little tag wink wink#my art#jamie tartt#ted lasso#ted lasso fanart#tarot art#tarot#the world tarot#froggie art
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