#this scene was so hard to watch but sooo good to paint

[polarship]

I loved her

42 x 30 cm

acrylic on canvas

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[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ace Trappola - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National  Museum of Art]

Ace: Huuuh, so this museum's been open for 100 years, huh. It's got some pretty cool exhibits.

Ace: Tryin' to appreciate art just seems boring, and I totally thought bein' a supporter was not my bag, but I might be able to enjoy myself here after all.

Ace: ―Ooh, found me the painting of some card soldiers! Look at 'em, all cool the way they're standing at attention like that.

???: Mhm, their perfectly aligned call to attention is quite the spectacle.

Ace: Ah, hey, Lilia-senpai. You must have great taste to see the true quality of this painting here! Haha.

Ace: If the rank and file are in disarray, then it doesn't look good at all. They gotta be in perfect formation, especially when marching.

Lilia: That's correct. So, you understand what it means to march as they do… Not bad, kid.

Ace: Not that much. I mean, back in my dorm, we just have certain days that all the students are required to march in formation.

Lilia: Kufufu, I heard that practice for that begins as soon as you enter. I've heard many a classmate complaining about it here and there.

Ace: Yeaaaaah, I can see why they'd want to complain. It's not just the Housewarden; even our usually nice upperclassmen come down on us hard during the training.

Ace: The first time I had to march after joining the dorm was the worst. We definitely looked nothing like the card soldiers in this art piece.

Ace: When we looked at the video that Cater-senpai took for us, we could see that the first years' walking was ALL OVER THE PLACE.

Ace: Every one of 'em couldn't get their arms and legs up and moving properly, and they were all looking down. It was sooo lame. I couldn't even laugh at how bad it was.

Ace: By the by, I got praised pretty much right out the gate ♪ They all said that my spirit fully embodied the heart suit card soldiers.

Ace: It's easy for me to just copy what I see the upperclassmen are doing, or what the video's showing. I don't get why all the rest of them were havin' a bad time.

Lilia: OHO～～～?

Ace: Eh? What's with that grin? You're kinda giving me the creeps all of a sudden.

Lilia: How rude of you to call someone as cute as me creepy! But aren't you actually quite the diligent one.

Ace: DILIGENT!? I don't think that word suits me at all!?

Lilia: Not only did you follow the examples set by your upperclassmen, you also watched went further and watched the videos and practiced on your own… I'm seeing you in a whole new light, Ace.

Ace: Ahh, c'mon. Stop patting my head like that. It's not like I was trying to study for it or anything.

Ace: It woulda been a pain and pretty lame if I had to stay behind to practice. That's why I just wanted to get it done ASAP. That's all!

Lilia: It's nothing worth getting all worked up to deny.

Lilia: I think it's rather commendable that you put in the extra effort in order to seek what you think is "cool."

Ace: I'm not getting worked up…! Wait, I got a feeling that if I keep responding, he'll just keep stringing me along to tease me.

Ace: Uh, I'm gonna go to check out the cool-lookin' painting over there!

Lilia: Hey now, don't leave me behind. Kufufu, this must be that adolescence I've heard much about.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Lilia: Let me see, what cool painting were you talking about… Oho, it's of the King of Beasts. He looks oh so dignified, I can't help but find it charming.

Ace: Aaand he followed me… But yeah, I definitely agree that's he's pretty dignified.

Lilia: There are many legends swirling around the King of Beasts. Just from looking at this painting, I can't think of which scene they're trying to depict here.

Ace: Uhhh, based on this info they got plastered next to it…

Ace: Looks like… Oh, it's where he was talking about his vision for the country's future with his hyena retainers.

Ace: I actually really like the story of how the King of Beasts would always trust in his hyenas.

Ace: Oh yeah, and that one where he performed songs for his people!

Lilia: Mhm, that's a good one. He is a sophisticated king indeed to utilize singing to vow to improve his country.

Ace: Riiiiight～? Totally get why the hyenas were so excited that they were singing and dancing all through the night.

Ace: The King of Beasts looks pretty unapproachable from just a glance, but he must have had a ton of charisma.

Lilia: Well, he did have the power to move his people's hearts through song. If he had his due, perhaps he would have been able to sway the whole world with his song.

Ace: Totally. If I had lived during the same era, I would have loved to go and karaoke with him.

Lilia: Speaking of karaoke… I heard you and Sebek went for that.

Ace: Ah, did you hear that from Sebek? We went with Deuce and the two from Ramshackle…

Ace: Jack and Epel also tagged along. But maan, it was pretty insane.

Ace: So many of them were new to it, so I had to teach them everything, from how to choose a new song, to ordering food. You'd think they'd have common sense to figure out, but c'mon.

Ace: We literally couldn't sing a single song for the first 30 min or so, I was like, what did we even come here for!?

Lilia: Kufufu, now, now, you can't say that. I'm sure there's things you're not familiar with, too.

Ace: But c'mon～ …Well, I guess it was kinda fun to have a small competition using the karaoke's scoring system.

Lilia: So, you had a karaoke competition! I would love to tag along next time. So, who won?

Ace: Well, that's obvious… IT WAS YA BOY ACE-KUN HERE!

Ace: When I hit 100 points, everyone was lookin' up at me like idiots, all like, "you gotta be kidding!"

Ace: As a bit of a handicap, I chose of the recent viral songs and did the dance that went along with it, too～

Lilia: Oho, that's amazing that you can sing while moving your body without missing a beat.

Ace: I mean, unlike those guys, back in middle school I would go karaoke a lot.

Ace: And all those guys kept shouting that they'd practice singing so they could sing next time, but y'know…

Ace: There's actually a trick to getting the high score on that machine's scoring function. It's not enough to just be a good singer.

Ace: At this rate, I think I'll be taking home the win next time too ♪

Lilia: Kufufu, looks like even the ones who don't get to spend that much time together with you all had some fun, eh?

Ace: Well, I guess it wasn't too bad.

Ace: They'd choose stuff like old songs that were popular during my parent's heyday, or minor folk songs…

Ace: It was kinda neat that I heard a ton of songs that I normally wouldn't listen to. It was completely different to how it'd be if I was with my friends back home.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Ace: This painting is of those eels that served the Sea Witch…

Lilia: Mhm. It's said that whenever they found merfolk in distress, they would encourage them to seek the guidance of the benevolent Sea Witch.

Ace: Huuh, they look kinda scary, but… Guess you can't judge a book by its cover.

Lilia: Speaking of… Ace, I heard you went a little viral on Magicam the other day.

Ace: Geh! So, you saw that post too…

Lilia: Kufufu, I took it all in.

Lilia: "This scary-looking young man in a flashy shirt was kind to a kid in this burger shop," it said.

Lilia: You did a good thing, Mister "Scary-Looking Young Man in a Flashy Shirt."

Ace: C'mon, can you not tease me!?

Ace: The comments section was going wild with stuff like, "I love that personality gap～" and "The scarier the person looks, the softer their heart is."

Ace: I definitely don't like people just deciding that I'm scary just from how I look, or just assuming that I'm nice.

Ace: More like, I think it was 'cause I was with all my basketball teammates that I ended up looking scary too.

Ace: And 'sides, that patterned shirt I was wearing wasn't even something I'd pick out on my own.

Ace: Floyd-senpai made me buy it sometime back, so I thought it'd be bad if I didn't wear it, that's all…

Lilia: Hm, guess it was a mistake of them to comment on your appearance, then. But it was true that you were nice to the kid, right?

Ace: Nope. I just was throwing something I didn't want at 'em!

Lilia: You gave them something you didn't want…? So how does that turn into being "kind" to the kind?

Ace: So, when my clubmates and me went to the burger shop down in town, we got a free card with our orders.

Ace: Something about how they were doing a collaboration campaign with a movie that was recently released.

Ace: I at least knew what the movie was, so I opened it up, but just as I was thinking to myself that I didn't really need a card, or anything…

Ace: This kid who was nearby just randomly started crying. Apparently they wanted a hero card, not a villain card.

Ace: That's why I just gave him the card I had. It just happened to be the one he wanted.

Ace: I was able to get rid of something I didn't want, and I didn't have to listen to the sound of crying in the background. Win-win, right?

Lilia: Well, when you explain it like that, it definitely no longer feels like a heartwarming story.

Ace: Riiight? But then all the folks on Magicam had to go and try to treat me like a nice guy. Everyone's been teasing me about that too…

Ace: In the end, even the Headmage got wind of the video and just wouldn't stop praising me, saying "This is a fantastic thing you've done!"

Ace: Maan, preconception can be a crazy thing. I bet if I was wearing my school uniform, it definitely wouldn't have taken off.

Ace: They say that it's not all about appearance, but I guess that first impression you get is still important.

Lilia: Kufufu, I bet if the parents of that child were to hear your true feelings about it, they'd be shocked.

Lilia: Well then, I think I'll go on to check out the other exhibits. Bye then, Ace.

Ace: Whew, Lilia-senpai just couldn't stop teasing, huh. Wellll, what should I go and look at next…? Hm?

Ace: Woah, it's a painting of a walrus and the oysters. Lookin' at it here, the walrus really looks like a proper gentleman.

Ace: I bet those oysters were also tricked by how the walrus looked. Can't help but feel sorry for them… Heh.

Requested by Anonymous.

[etherealising]

( hope I’m requesting this right ) can we get a mini part 2 , or however long you want to make it , of baby and carmen first night together of intimacy -🐻

🐻 anon bestie you requested this perfectly! also i wasn’t sure if you wanted emotional intimacy or physical intimacy but there’s both sooo…moments by victoria monét heavily inspired the writing 😉

for reference this scene takes place during interlude 2: anyone who had a heart BEFORE the Polaroid scene!

warnings: p in v | fingering | bodily fluids | orgasms | minimal to no editing | nasty (at least for my standards) |

wc: 3.5 (can’t write anything short to save my life)

A sliver of sunlight peeking through the blinds seemed to be aimed directly into your eyelids, whatever peaceful dreamland you’d been in was slowly snuffed out as the bright rays assaulted your sleep. You couldn’t remember falling asleep but the slight ache between your legs as you stretched was enough to remind you what had you so exhausted, a grin painted your features as you thought back to Carmy cleaning you up before helping you into an oversized tee shirt you’d packed.

A slight scratching noise could be heard somewhere above you. As you allowed yourself to fully wake up, for a moment you thought you were just hearing things but as you titled your head up your body your eyes caught sight of Carmy. He sat with his back propped against the wall, pencil in hand as he worked in some type of notebook. It was quiet as you watched him trying to understand what he was, watching from your position laying down how his veins popped out with every grip of the pencil.

You smiled watching how entranced he was, his entire focus was taken up by the notebook. The only other movement aside from his hand moving across the page was the slight way his eyes danced across the page. You hadn’t realized his attention turned to you until you felt the heavy caress of his thumb across your cheek.

“Hey.” Carmy’s voice caressed your ears in a whisper.

As you looked up at him the smile on your face seemed to grow tenfold the longer you held his gaze, “Hi…why are we whispering.” You watched as his shoulders moved up and down in a shrugging motion, a small smile lining his lip as his eyes fell back to the notebook in his hands.

You scooted closer to him doing your best to get a glance at his notebook only for him to move it from your line of sight as he placed the notebook on his nightstand before turning his body towards yours, giving you his full attention. Your eyes narrowed at him and your smile might have grown even wider. “Were you drawing Carm?”

Carmy rolled his eyes, your question wasn’t much of a question at all. The way he hid his sketchbook was obvious enough to you, it was a habit he’d picked up when art became one of his hobbies, he’d only show you his finished works. But recently he hadn’t had any finished works and today was the longest time in a while he got the urge to indulge in his creative outlet.

“How’d you sleep.” His eyes roved over your face, there was a glow about you he couldn’t quite place, a glow that was hard to capture in the confines of paper and graphite.

You scoffed your hand reaching out to playfully shove his shoulder, “Great actually, what were you drawing?”

Carmy gave a non-committal shrug, this moment reminiscent of many you spent together in your younger years…well aside from the physical intimacy. “You can see it when I finish.” His words were punctuated by his hand finding yours in the space between your bodies, neither of you brave enough to admit how this whole encounter didn’t feel like it was just a one-time thing.

“Please Carm it's been years, feed a girl's curiosity.” It was pitiful but you hoped a good old-fashioned guilt trip would force the man's hand.

Carmy’s eyes darted around your face, the time the two of you were apart easily showing there. It wasn’t that you looked old beyond your years now or something, but you were a woman now and the fact that the two of you had experienced adulthood without each other and it was Carmy’s fault would always haunt him. “You make me nervous.”

The words that left Carmy’s lips gave you whiplash, your eyebrows pinched together as you sat up moving to rest your cheek and part of your chest atop Carmy’s thigh looking up at him as you tried to understand when you ever made Carmy nervous. “I make you nervous?”

You hadn’t meant for the question to sound as incredulous as it did, but you were curious how you’d unconsciously been affecting the man. Carmy gave a small laugh at the look on your face, he didn’t think the idea was as far-fetched as you believed it to be. His hand moved down to caress the side of your face losing himself in the moment before he spoke, “Baby look at you… you're beautiful.” A heartfelt smile raised to his lips as you playfully rolled your eyes, but he needed you to know it wasn’t all just physical for him.

“You’ve always made me nervous ever since we were kids.” Your eyebrows raised in surprise, eyes darting around his face for any tell that he might be lying. “You were just so fuckin cool to me you know?” The sound of your quiet laughter tinkling through his room caused Carmy’s smile to grow infinitely wider.

Carmy allowed his eyes to trace around your face for a moment, his mind doing the mental math to try and figure out how he’d gotten so lucky to have ever met you. “You’ve always been so headstrong and independent,” he paused committing your features to memory. “You're book smart you’ve got the degree you always wanted. You write fuckin profiles and think pieces for a living, that used to just be a dream for you.”

The shyness was evident on your face as you avoided his, not sure if you could deal with whatever emotion was swimming through his eyes as he looked down at you. Not sure you wanted to give yourself that hope. “And you’re one of the greatest up-and-coming chefs Carm, looks like we both got what we wanted.”

Carmy’s smile dimmed for a moment as he listened to your words. Carmy hadn’t got everything he wanted but he also had enough sense to know that voicing that thought wouldn’t ever be fair to you considering he made his decision clear about a relationship.

His thumb never stopped its gentle caress on your cheek as the two of you spoke, “And you always know exactly what you want, there’s n-no indecision you know exactly what you want and you go after it…it makes me nervous.”

You didn’t need any further explanation to understand what he meant, and you were thankful that he was wise enough to mince his words. But you couldn’t help but wonder why you continued to subject yourself to this hurt, this hot and cold routine the two of you had going on. You were worth commitment, you deserved commitment, and knowing that the one person you’d felt truly, genuinely in love with was opposed to giving you that was one of the worst truths you’d ever been faced with.

Carmy could see the emotions souring your face the longer you were quiet. At one point in time, it used to be so easy for him to talk to you, and sometimes it took a little pushing. But now even as he had you in his presence for the first time in years he still found that whatever fears and insecurity he still needed to work through was what stopped him from speaking his feelings for you into fruition.

“Baby,” he paused waiting for his eyes to find yours his landing on the soft faux smile you were putting on for his benefit. He sighed the longer he stared down at you before motioning for you to sit up, his arms helping to maneuver you in the position to sit in his lap. The two of you stared at each other for a moment longer before both of his hands found purchase on your cheeks a smile gracing his lips at you just being there physically with him.

“I…I’m so proud of you Baby.” He held your face in place as you tried to wriggle out of his hold emotion easily overcoming you. “C’mere.”

You did as told face easily pressing into the space between Carmy’s neck and shoulder. You felt the warm press of his lips against your temple as one hand stroked your head and the other moved up and down your back. You sank into his arms automatically unaware of just how much you needed this hug, there were plenty of things for you to miss in the time lost between you and Carmy, but his hugs would probably always be at the top of the list.

You pulled away to let him know that you’d felt the same sentiment for Carm and the life he made for himself. But you never got the chance as he captured your lips in a soft kiss, it wasn’t messy there was no tongue. It was really just both of your lips slotted perfectly together like they were designed for each other.

Carmy’s hands were still on your face as he slowly pulled away his eyes still closed as he relished in the tingle your lips left behind. Neither of you spoke just staring at the other with a plethora of emotions swimming through the eyes of the other. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that your first dalliance together would be the only one that happened while you were in New York, it was easier that way. But the longer the two of you sat in silence, eyes glazed over as you drank each other in, the air charged with tension, it was obvious the agreement was null.

He pulled you flush against him as your lips met once more, the softness of the kiss was still there yet the urgent undertone couldn’t be denied. It was tentative but the slide of Carmy’s tongue into your mouth lit you up, your hips rocked dangerously into his pelvis, a strangled groan leaving Carmy’s lips as his hands dropped to your hips selfishly rocking you against his now semi-hard cock as he chased the ecstasy you’d bestowed upon him earlier.

The need for air drove the two of you apart, though it did nothing to quell the movement of your hips. Shockwaves pulsed through you with every brush of your clit against Carmy’s throbbing cock, the stimulation proving to be too much for him as his blunt nails dug into your hips, his head falling to rest against your collarbone as ragged breaths escaped him.

“Carmy,” his name left your lip in a soft cry the underlying question in your tone obvious to him as he nodded his head against you rapidly. Neither of you wasted another minute after he tapped your hip twice to give home space. It was almost comical how quickly Carmy shoved his boxers down his leg not even bothering to fully remove them as they sat at his mid-thigh.

You’d meant to pull your shirt off but watching as he hastily pulled his tank top over his head and the hunger in his eyes was a firsthand experience you needed to savor. Your frozen appearance didn’t deter him as he found the hem of your shirt pulling it off of you so fast it sent you careening backwards.

Carmy’s hands found your hips to help you regain your balance an embarrassed smile gracing his face as he realized how eager he appeared, the look enough for you to devolve in a fit of giggles, his hoarse laughter following after.

“Sorry…I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.” You could tell he was beating himself up internally as he avoided your eyes, hand moving to right the chain against his skin that’d gotten tangled.

Your eyes lingered on the chain before your hands quickly moved to his neck, Carmy’s hands dropped thinking you were fixing it for him only to be surprised as you held the glimmering gold chain in your hand and sent him a small smile before clasping the chain around your neck.

“How do I look?” Your voice was teasing, hoping to alleviate whatever lasting embarrassment Carmy may have felt. Your eyes searched back in forth between his as he eyed the way his chain delicately kissed the skin on your neck.

Carmy knew you were a vision, but at this moment, seeing you straddled atop him completely naked wearing nothing but his gold chain, he was sure you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Made just for him. The scene awoke something in him as his fingers reached up to trace the path his chain made around your neck before his hand ensconced the area gripping your neck with a firm hold and pulling you down to meet his lips.

If you weren’t already surprised by the sudden movement, you were surprised as you tasted his tongue against yours. Both of your tongues languidly massaging each other, Carmy’s hand against your neck squeezing every so often sending your mind in a spiral.

No words were spoken as you raised to your knees, Carmy’s free hand diligently helping to guide you forward. The kiss broke the moment you gripped Carmy’s cock to line him up with your entrance. There was no hesitation just a look of confirmation shared between the two of you as you gradually sank onto him. Your mouth dropped open in a quiet cry as he bit his lip head falling back against the wall.

One of Carmy’s hands moved to grip your hip, while the other found purchase just under your breast. Garbled words slipped out of his mouth and if he wasn’t stretching your cunt so deliciously you might have tried paying more attention.

You gave him a seconds reprieve before putting your thigh muscles to work. Slow bounces to start as you reveled in the way he stroked your walls, head thrown back as your clit brushed against his pelvis bone just right.

“Baby…I-I can’t,” his words cut off in a groan as you sped up your pace, clenching every so often at the intoxicating ache his cock offered you, hitting exactly where you needed him to.

Carmy pulled you flush against his body, his forehead finding purchase against your collarbone. Something about this position was different from the last time as he squeezed his eyes shut doing his best to last as long as he could, whatever control he had earlier felt like a fluke, he could have come this time from the dry humping alone. He wanted to warn you but each slap of your perspiring skin against his thighs tempted him.

He’d hoped not watching you would help but instead, your soft cries of satisfaction had him twitching even more inside of you. Carmy moved to raise his lips to lavish your collarbone in love bites, but as he opened his eyes he got an eyeful of the way your cunt so easily swallowed his aching cock.

All it took was mere minutes of Carmy’s eyes focusing on how easily you slid up and down his cock before he felt streams of his sperm spurt inside you.

“Fu-fuck!” He was sure his grip would bruise you and he knew he should’ve felt bad, but he couldn’t rationalize anything with the way your cunt continued squeezing out whatever he had left to give you. The pleasure slowly began to feel painful as he descended from his high consciousness enough to realize you were so lost in it all that you hadn’t noticed what just happened.

“Baby…Baby.” The second call pulled you from the daze you were in, your glazed eyes finding his blissed-out face, the sight of him causing you to stop.

Your chest heaved up and down as you stared at Carmy with confusion, unsure why he would stop something that felt so good. You did your best to catch your breath before speaking, “Is everything okay?” Your voice was hoarse as you watched Carmy’s body flush a darker shade of red than it already was.

Carmy nodded signaling for you to give him a minute as he rested his hand against your chest for a few moments trying to work up the courage to tell you that the five rhythmic motions of you bouncing atop his cock was all it took to bring his release.

“I…I uh came.” You did your best to school your features at his admission but you were sure you hadn’t done a good job with the way his cheeks flamed with color. “It was too much. Y-you in my chain and I…I wanted you to get off too but I just…”

You smiled at his shyness, you raised yourself off of him slowly making sure not to make any sudden movements. As soon as you were up far enough for him to slip out you sat between his legs, your own falling on either side of his, “Carmy honey, I promise it's not as bad as you think it’s actually…kinda hot.”

You knew the words made him feel shyer than he was already feeling but you weren’t lying. Knowing Carmy came from just a few minutes of stimulation sent warmth racing through you. “You know,” you paused gently drumming your fingers against his thigh. “There are plenty of other ways to make a woman come.”

Carmy’s eyes found yours before the feeling of your fingers drumming against his thigh drew his attention. He watched with rapt intrigue as your finger traced from his thigh, delicately tracing across the sheets beneath you before delicately circling your dripping entrance. Carmy could feel your eyes watching his every move but he was so focused on your finger gentle circular motions to care.

The bob of his Adam’s apple was apparent as you slowed the circling motions before your middle finger found any excess cum leaking out of you and both fingers began to easily fuck Carmy’s cum back inside you. No matter how sensitive Carmy was at that moment the twitching of his cock was enough evidence of just how much he enjoyed the show you were putting on for him.

Garbled moans escaped you as you picked up the pace squelching noises filling the room as you fucked yourself with reckless abandon. Your head fell back wanton huffs of breath escaped with every pump of your fingers.

A clipped whine left you, you weren’t greedy but this would never be enough, even as you began to grind down on your fingers. A surprised gasp ripped through your body as another finger joined the fray the length and dexterity of the finger had your eyes flying open, mouth slack-jawed as senseless words babbled out of your mouth.

The hunger with which Carmy was looking down at you as he helped you fuck yourself would be seared into your mind long after you left this room. Your eyes met his as his skilled finger probed the spot you could never quite reach.

There you sat speared open on Carmy’s bed in New York as he helped you fuck yourself with his cum, fingers moving in and out in perfect timing with your own. The feeling was too much but not enough all at once, tears pricking your eyes as you could feel your release hanging on by a thread.

You weren’t sure what came over him but you felt Carmy’s hand roughly grip the back of your neck as he pulled you forward lips finding yours, as his finger kept pace with your own. The feeling of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip was all it took for your cries of ecstasy to fill the room, tears streaming down your face at just how overwhelming this experience was.

Carmy pressed his forehead to yours as your body trembled with aftershocks of your orgasm. Your sweaty chest rubbed against him as the arm you were leaning on finally gave way to exhaustion, your body melting into his as he helped maneuver you to lie down against the mattress.

You felt boneless, your whole body on cloud nine. Carmy nuzzled his face into your neck placing small encouraging kisses all over the place. His hands reached to gently wipe the tears off your face a small smile sent your way as he just watched you, your body far too tired to give the look on his face a second thought.

Carmy settled down next to you, eyes landing on the Polaroid he’d gifted you in the process, the vision of you deserved to be frozen in time.

a/n: uh so this definitely got away from me…someone take away besties writing privileges 😅

also this is part of my 1k celebration i’ve left it open for a little longer for anyone else who wants to send in a request!

[bread--quest]

just watched my first ever performance of les mis and i'm experiencing every emotion ever and i need to write them all down quickly before i go to sleep so i don't forget them .ok . in some approximate order

the prisoners during look down would each like. look up for their individual line and then whoever was next to them would reach over and pull them back down which i thought was so good

hoogh the staging. the STAGING .

several of the scenes looked (i think very intentionally) like.....religious paintings...??? im sorry i dont have a better way to describe it im not catholic but like. the first one im thinking of is jean valjean and the bishop during the "i have bought your soul for god" scene . there were like definitely Intentional Pauses so you could Admire the Staging and Lighting. which i did

incidentally i wasnt counting the amount of times people crossed themselves in this show but it was A Lot

after "i'll escape now from this world... from the world of JEAN VALJEAAAAAAAAAN" the stage went black and then the words "les miserables" were projected on the screen and my dad (who was next to me) went "OH that was just the PROLOGUE??"

ohhhhh god fantine's death scene hit me like a truck. that was the first moment i cried at and oh god i cried really hard. i had forgotten that it was to the tune of on my own. awuagh

after little cosette sang "she says...cosette, i love you very much..." i distinctly heard someone in the audience GASP and go "ohhhhh...."

madame thenardier was GREAT, she sang every line like she was rolling her eyes. also she made some. Gestures with a baguette during master of the house

beautiful little moment: after jvj gave cosette the doll she gasped, kind of backed away from him in shock, and then paused and ran towards him and hugged him, and then there was a noticeable moment where he sort of didn't know what to do for a second and then hugged her back and scooped her up to carry her away. waugh

look down paris 1832!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAA

i didn't realize until just now that it works so well to have gavroche be singing what's basically the intro to "okay so here's what's happening now. this is paris and it sucks," because gavroche is the character introduced at the start of the 1832 book!!! the gamin expresses paris!! i love that!!!! also gavroche was excellent. adore that boy

marius was such a dork <3

eponine fully Threw his book across the stage and he was like "haha i love the way you..... tease. Hm"

the paris sets were so cool!!!! they were like. whole apartment building sets and actors would pop out of windows and stuff!!! very neat

one of the women had a "vive lamarque" sign hanging out her window lmao. rip

grantaire kept hugging people/flopping on them

enjolras was Very Blond and Very Enjolras-y. when grantaire tried to flop on him he pushed him away and then they made Intense Eye Contact about it

gavroche delivered "general lamarque is dead" surprisingly solemnly and quietly, and there was a moment of silence that i thought really brought in the gravity of the moment well

also he got up on a table to say it and afterwards enjolras patted him on the shoulder (which he did a lot) and then picked him up and lifted him off the table :)

DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING <3 AAAAAAAAAAA

grantaire kept pulling gavroche back from joining with the rest of the revolutionaries :(

marius actually CLIMBED OVER THE GATES to cosette's house, i was very impressed

ONE DAY MOOOOOORE was sooo good

the thenadiers peered out of one of the really tall windows and had a little periscope (??) to look at the revolutionaries with

the barricade was very striking, if lacking in Symbolic Coffin. very pointy looking though

my dad said "is that javert??" a few minutes after javert appeared at the barricade and his reaction to the reveal was EXCELLENT

gavroche flipped off javert LMAO

little fall of rain was very good but the thing that hurt me the most was that towards the very end gavroche came on stage, saw what was happening, stepped towards her, and was pulled back a bit by grantaire. and then after she died gavroche went forward and picked up her hat and gave it to marius, and then walked away, and when grantaire reached out towards him he just kind of walked past. it was a really really good bit of like. subtle characterization and plot and just AAAAAA

"is your life just one more LIE" in drink with me was very directly addressed to enjolras, who then had another moment of Very Intense Eye Contact with grantaire. then they stormed off to opposite sides of the barricade and gavroche, who was sort of standing between them looking worried, looked back and forth a few times and then went over to grantaire and hugged him :((

the barricaders in general were so good

jvj hit an INSANELY high note at the end of bring him home

THEY DID SOMEHTING VERY CRUEL AND FUCKED UP and had gavroche's song of little people be interrupted by a gunshot and a gasp from the barricade, and THEN he started singing AGAIN, and everyone seemed relieved, and he came back up over the barricade and THEN. GUNSHOT. and. enjolras caught him and held him and then like. passed him down the barricade to grantaire??? in this incredibly lit and really like. again. like it looked like a painting . i am rapidly losing coherency. it hurt so bad man

the one thing i am sad about (WELL. IM SAD ABOUT A LOT. BUT I MEAN SPECIFICALLY ABOUT THE ADAPTATION FROM BOOK TO MUSICAL) is that grantaire and enjolras didn't die holding hands :((

at least they got one more moment of Very Intense Eye Contact in (after gavroche's death...)

oh GOD enjolras in the cart hurt so bad. WITH THE FLAG. i really thought he was evoking some famous painting but i could be wrong

javert knelt down over gavroche's body, shook his head, crossed himself, gently tapped gavroche, and then stood up and pointed at him so the cart guy would take him away

enjolras had like. one hand dangling out of the cart when it came in, but as it was leaving the stage the other hand dropped which was a FANTASTIC acting moment . also damn those actors were great at pretending to be dead

javert's suicide was BRILLIANTLY staged, somehow the actor really made it look like falling while standing up the whole time (possibly being raised somewhat? unsure)

he was also the only character who's death was not shown in illuminating light . which. damn.

turning turning hit me unexpectedly hard. ooooof

and then empty chairs at empty tables was. well. i dont think i need to say more. the lights were a fantastic choice

i think i started crying at "it is the story of those who always loved you" but honestly the entire last song was really blurry. IT OPENED WITH JEAN VALJEAN LIGHTING THE CANDLESTICKS. THE CANDLESTIIIIIICKS

THE BISHOP CAME OUT AND HUGGED JEAN VALJEAN. AUGH

also gavroche was standing between enjolras and grantaire when they first came out which i have to think was intentional

there was basically nothing on stage but the actors for the last song which made it incredible imo . i briefly considered becoming french. a lady offered me a tissue. the end

[itsukismoon]

I Vow to You, the Shape of My Love - Moon route chapter 2 (Cyrus)

>> moon route chapter 3

Continuing the patrol with Cyrus—

Before I knew it, the setting sun had painted the town red.

Cyrus: It's about time we head back to the castle.

Emma: Oh yes, it's almost time for the party to start.

It seems that the Fata Musica performance had finished, and I could hear people passing by commenting on the show.

Woman: Ahh, I was so moved I cried. I want someone to pledge their love to me like that...!

Man: It's not our silver wedding anniversary, but maybe I should pledge my love to her too...

Cyrus: ...The audience seems to have loved it.

Emma: Hehe, that's right. The scene where they pledge their love seems to be particularly popular.

Cyrus: That was certainly a wonderful scene.

Cyrus: Not only were the actors' performances great, but it's clear that Suzuka has worked hard on the dialogue. (TN: Suzuka is the script writer of Fata Musica)

Emma: Um, Cyrus-san... Do you usually watch a lot of plays?

Cyrus: Not really, why?

Emma: I think that watching the play while analysing the dialogue is quite professional.

Cyrus: Ah, I see... it might be that way because I read a lot of books.

Cyrus: Then, general knowledge and... maybe it's because I’m also very familiar with the folklore that inspired the story.

Cyrus: Suzuka has amazingly managed to adapt the script to be more moving while still keeping in line with the original.

Cyrus: Also, the impression you get from realism and the atmosphere is something you can't get from reading...

Emma: (Cyrus, it seems you enjoyed the Fata Musica performance more than I thought).

Emma: If you have the chance, would you like to go see another play with me?

Cyrus: Yes, I would love to. Let's take some time off sometime.

As we headed towards the royal castle, savoring the joy of making a new promise—

(change of location: royal palace)

Kent: Cyrus-san!!!

As soon as we entered the party venue, Kent came running up to us, waving.

Kent: Listen up, Emma! Vel-san and Suzuka-san praised me!!

Kent: "Your sword fighting, which was already good, has gotten even better." It's all thanks to Cyrus-san's guidance!

Cyrus: I didn't do anything special

Cyrus: It was you who worked hard and mastered the technique in a short time.

Cyrus: I hope you will continue to use the skills you have acquired on stage.

Kent: Nghh... for real, you're sooo cool, Cyrus...!

Kent: Today's performance was a great success! I wanna have a toast with you two!!

Cyrus: Oh, of course.

Emma: I'll go get some drinks!

The toast the three of us raised was delicious.

(change of location: town)

Cyrus: ...The town is pretty calm at this time of night.

Emma: There was a little scuffle, but I'm glad the festival ended safely.

We were on the way home from the fun party.

The day after was going to be a day off for both of us, so we decided to spend the night without any worries. As we walked to the inn...

Cyrus: ...Huh? The ceremonial/wedding hall is open at this time.

Light was streaming in from the windows of the wedding hall, and there was a sign propped up next to the door.

Emma: "Feel free to use if you have something to vow." Is it open just for today...?

Cyrus: Now that I think about it... people on their way home from the theater were saying "I want to pledge my love to my special someone."

Cyrus: They might have been referring to this.

Emma: (I can certainly understand why you'd want to pledge your love to someone after seeing that play...)

Emma: It would be a nice occasion, so why don't we give it a try as well?

I was a little tipsy, so I went ahead and asked him out.

Cyrus: ...what a coincidence. I was thinking the same.

Cyrus smiled and opened the door to the hall—

[naffeclipse]

Ok so chapter 19 SURE WAS A CHAPTER! HOLY CRAP THINGS ARE GOING DOWN NOW!! NAFF THIS IS SO GOOD I AAA I CAN’T!! THE BETRAYAL!!!! THE POSSESSION!!!! VANESSA!!!!! AAAAAAA!!!!!!!

I cannot believe there’s just one part left of this episode… I can’t…

(gonna try to make it easier to see the difference between my comments and the parts of the fic by making the fic parts blue)

You wring your hands together as Moon tilts his head slightly.

“Are you scared?” he rasps.

They’re so gentle.. aaa my heart… When having finished reading and knowing what’s about to unfold later this question becomes sooo much more intense..

The claws lightly pressing into the bone of your jaw causes you to breathe out. You cover the hand and slowly turn to press a kiss into the cool, smooth palm. A low spasm races through the animatronic. When you lift your gaze, Moon’s pale eyes are bright, flashing almost in a frenzy.

Hehe, they blush! Or maybe they’re getting restless, ether way they have mad butterflies X3

Thank you for giving us a sweet little moment like this, we really needed it for what’s about to go down..

You wonder if you’ve ever missed anything they said because of their demon voice. Could they have spoken and you mistook it for a grumble?

I can just think of the low purrs being words of adoration and praises aaaa!!!

As promised, the next page is decorated with diaphragms and charcoal illustrations of the curious and creepy function of the demonic cryptid, painting an image of the bear beast’s stomach splitting open to reveal a bony cage of dripping goo, dark brown fur pulled back.

THIS IS SICK! FREDDY IS SICK!! I LOVE HIM!!

They return to their vessel, sated. It’s not a rule breaker’s heart, but it returns the energy that was taken by the cursed seal. They are strong. They are eager to see your lovely, tired face.

‘Lovely, tired face’ really got me :’0

The man’s heart is missing.

Something or someone ate it.

Meep live reaction: “No,,, no no no nooo I know where this is going and I hate it!!!”

A metallic hand seizes your wrist. Glowing eyes flash crimson. A warning echoes your name in betrayal. You tilt your fingers and watch the salt spill out, forming a thick mound that stretches from end to end of the salt circle and completes it.

I’M CRYING!!!! DAMNIT!!!!!

“No, no, that wasn’t—we never meant for that to hurt you—”

“I was in a cornfield just like that. That hunter could have been me. That hunter was me .”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! Man this hits HARD. You're not holding back any punches anymore huh (not that you haven’t punched us hard before). Also it’s so easy to visualize Sun spasming animalistically and act like a caged animal in this scene from how you describe everything! The whole scene is so beautifully written!

"You are abysmal,” you whisper, at last turning back to face Sun’s frozen smile. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re a demonic cryptid.”

This is where you ripped my heart out and held it in your claws right in front of me. Naff, this is where you killed me.

Abysmal…

To think I was worried when they were in the middle of fighting the rake, when emotions were running high and that wall formed between them. All those other moments of complex feelings feel so tame now compared to this.

“Do not come back to me. You leave when night falls, and you don’t come back.” You lower your hand and force away a shudder in your breath. “I will treat you like any other cryptid I’ve hunted before.”

And here is where you ate my heart. Killing me again.

NAFF I’M RATTLING YOU SO HARD!!! THIS IS SO GOOD AND I’M CRYING SO HARD!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!!!! After aaaaall this time and through the good and the bad, this moment, these lines feel so earned, so right but also so wrong, it hurts so soooo bad.. You’ve been building up to this through the whole story, it feels so satisfying but so painful.

“I’m going to take care of the scary thing, then I’m going to take care of you.”

This line will never get old I swear!!! NEVER!!! <3<3<3

“Nessie!” You reach out as more black fluid emerges from underneath the neckline of her shirt, phasing from her body underneath the edges of her open jacket and spilling over the orange and red leaves.

She gasps. A wretched gag escapes her as more darkness spews from her skin, leaking from every pore before she twists towards you, eyes wide, and vomits. Dark goo falls underneath her. You swiftly nab her arm, dragging her away from the pile of twitching, unholy matter, and clutch her close.

I love how visceral this exorcism is, it’s sooo horrible and disgusting and I applaud you for writing it this way, the goo leaking from every pore, the demon having a physical presence as it gets vomited out and pools on the ground. Just aaaaaAAARRGH!! LOVE IT!!!

You don’t shy away from writing and describing things like gore, violence and in this case possession in full detail. You don’t have to do that, but you do! It’s part of why I enjoy your writing so much. You also write it in a way that doesn’t just make it a gross mess. Idk how exactly to describe it, but there’s beauty in the horrific, it’s not all just one homogeneous color of violence and gore, you can tell what’s what in the mess.

Violet eyes glow with black halos for pupils. A terrible coldness douses you in horror. The shadowy being stands on legs bent like the hind legs of an animal’s, inky body black and tinted violet. Long arms sway with razor-sharp claws grasping at the air. You stare at its teeth, saber-like and bared, prepared to tear into skin and bone.

GOD HE’S UGLY! I LOVE HIM AND HATE HIM AND WANNA TEAR HIM TO SHREDS!

The demonic cryptid eyes flash. Black pupils devour you. It lowers itself closer and your breath fogs the narrow space between you and the cryptid. Your heart stops.

It shoves its mouth upon yours in a crushing kiss. The world turns violet.

You gag on the liquid invading your tongue, your throat, your senses, then jerk sporadically. A burning, unearthly agony overtakes you. Something sinks into your flesh, spilling over your face.

It’s taking you.

OH NO OH GOD OH FUCK NOOOO!!!!! Ok so this is TERRIBLE and I hate it with every fiber of my being, but damn I love it!!!!!! HE ENTERS YOU BY KISSING YOU!?! NO GOD NOOO!!! Also again, I love how you describe the possession! It’s not just smoke or shadow seeping in to control you, it’s a physical presence that chokes you, invades you and hurts you. It’s like a giant demonic parasite living within you.

But also I love the concept of it entering through the mouth in a “kiss” and what it’ll do to the first kiss that will eventually be shared between Y/N and Eclipse. Oh gosh that’ll be a rough memory to try and not remember in that moment…

Silent, still, and suspended, you are possessed.

A low growl reverberates through the purple pitch-black along with a terrible, dark voice.

My vessel, reluctant follower.

You will serve me well.

Eclipse will be SO MAD when they realize that Y/N is/was possessed. They will be FURIOUS.

Naff I’m going absolutely insane. INSANE INSANE INSANE!!! Holy fuck! Wtf!!! AAAAAAAAAA!!!! I’M SO EXCITED!!!! AND SO SCARED!!!

This comment is a mess, I’m sorry.. But this chapter left my brain in a mess! Not in a bad way though, It’s a good kind of mess! I have so much Cryptid Sightings brainrot you don’t even know!

These chapters are coming out so fast I’m honestly scared that the ending is so near :’0

AMAZING CHAPTER AS ALWAYS!! AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

AHHH MEEP I LOVE SEEING YOUR REACTIONS ESPECIALLY TO SPECIFIC PARAGRAPHS/SENTENCES AHHHHH

I'm especially happy you enjoyed the possession scene! I wanted to depict it as all-consuming, that there is no piece of a human left untouched by a demonic cryptid. It's a very disturbing visual but I didn't want it to be too gratuitous! Just get it across that it's a very, very bad thing.

Do you remember the scene in the vampire episode when Y/N opens up the abandoned animatronic to see a lot of unearthly goo dripping inside? Now imagine that, but in a human. Not pretty ;-;

Don't apologize, I love this so much! I am rattling you so hard right now, ahhh! Thank you so much, babe! ♥

[just-some-guy-joust]

how are you mx. narrative!!

if we're chatting about things related to this tournament i will mention that I did end up checking out Vanitas no Carte specifically because of that one huge propaganda essay someone submitted for him regarding Vanitas Paintings and the preclusion of his death. (and i indeed loved it. thank you to both the submitter and the essayist.) and i plan to eventually try bad end theater too. and i will never forget the mechanisms either though i listened to one thing once and it doesn't seem like my thing in an audio sense. but mad respect for them regardless.

if you're looking for asks about other things, uhhh what's the food you enjoyed the most this past week??

oh that makes me SO happy to hear <3 i never finished watching vanitas no cartes and honestly probably never will but it holds a special lil place in my heart from the stuff i did watch. i actively took inspiration from one of the scenes in my own work and it turned out fucking awesome, it was exactly what that scene needed. and bad end theater is one of my favorite games ever it's sooo good <3 the mechs is also not my jam audio wise but they really do go hard anyways

as for your question, i ordered a sandwich from a place i never get food from and it was ok when it arrived, but after letting half of it sit in my fridge for a night, it was one of the tastiest sandwiches I've ever had. AND they gave me extra fries for free

[negative-citadel]

For the dbh ask game: 3, 14, 17, 18 💙

I'm apologizing ahead of time because I ramble like hell. LOL Thank you for the ask!

3. Which character do you relate the most to?

Aaaaah, almost really hard to answer. I relate to most of the characters in the game to some degree. Grew up in a broken home like Alice, taken in & cared for people like Kara. I can go on and on but if there's a character I really, really relate to - It's probably Luther, the protector, guardian, however you want to refer to him. He really deserves more lines but I can firmly say I can relate to giving everything in my power to see those around me be safe. I won't type an essay about it because my response is long enough but I can really relate to Luther in many ways.

In a way, I've also really related to Hank lately but I don't want to trauma dump on here or make anyone worried.

14. How do you feel about Kara’s role in the game compared to her role in the Kara short?

Admitly - I'm torn. I actually love both. When I first saw the Kara Short (as a bonus in Beyond: Two Souls), I thought it was AMAZING. I remember my brother and I saying "I wish they'd turn that into a full game". Lmao, and obviously they did. However, I feel in-game Kara is faaaaaaaar different than the Kara in the short. The short is, well, short, and says what it needs to convey and shows Kara moreso as an android that just wants to live life free, whereas in the game, Kara does have those wants, but her main goal is to protect Alice. I love them both and her story in the game is very much packed with the angst I know & love... It's hard to choose which I like more but the Kara short is probably better written (let's face it, it's harder to have plot holes in a 7 minute video rather than a long video game with branching paths).

17. Favorite moments of each playable character?

Oh I have sooo many but I'll try to narrow it down to 2 for each character.

Markus: I love his introduction with Carl. I know the subtext is bad but the moment Markus does his painting, always swells my heart (I think it's partially the amazing soundtrack that gives me emotions). All of the different arts he makes are just...sooo good.

However, I also ADORE crossroads & I love Markus making his way down to blow up the ship while rescuing any androids can. Oh the music, the action, I love it lol.

Kara: There's so many moments I love with Kara. The river endings always have me sobbing my eyes out lol (even if both Alice & Kara make it). I do love the humanity in when you enter the checkpoint and the soldier hands Alice back one of her gloves. I always found it really heartwarming.

Also, Kara talking with Rose. The two just feel like really close friends and Rose cares for Alice on the same level Kara does, I feel. At the final checkpoint at the border, I love Kara finally being able to cry & getting one last hug from Rose before you hopefully make good choices. LOL

Connor: Oh man, hard to choose but I will ALWAYS laugh at Connor breaking into Hank's house via the window...then "Sumo, attack! ...good dog." It gets me every time. Connor convincing Hank to go to the Eden Club in the most sly and manipulative way - I love Russian Roulette as a chapter so much. The depressing subtext is just, *chef kiss*. I love angst & I also love humor.

Then, the chase in the nest. Watching Connor just gun it and run, doing stunts that are impossible for a human being. The music, the action, watching our RK800 dash at probably 15 or 25 mph. Idk, I love it. I'm a sucker for it everytime. I also feel obliged to mention the "I like dogs" & the interrogation sequence. I'm a sucker for interrogation scenes in movies, games, etc. (I also love his little chat sessions with Amanda).

18. Which NPC gave you the most feels?

It's hard to just pick one! Rose gives me mega feels when she brings up how hard it's been since her husband passed. Alice for - obvious reasons. Hank's self destruction, past, addiction, I've seen it irl, I've been it irl. I feel so sorry for him. North - just thinking about her history. It is sooooooooo hard not to feel bad for all the NPCs. I really can't pick one. D:

Thank you for the ask! :D

[rebeljyn-moved]

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better

Last song:

I think Full Moon by The Black Ghosts? I remember listening to it today and it's stuck in my head so I'll go with that lmao also YES ITS FROM THE TWILIGHT SOUNDTRACK DON'T LOOK AT ME

Currently watching:

Scavenger's Reign! GORGEOUS animation and very fun world building

Three ships:

Ooh this is hard😭

Rebelcaptain obviously no explanation needed beyond my blog's existence

Spirk bc I love how there's both the old married couple(TOS) and young just started dating couple(AOS) tropes in one ship lmao

Korrasami because I love them together they're both badasses and they just fucked off to the spirit world for a honeymoon like I wish I could do

Currently consuming:

Not currently consuming but currently waiting for my delivery of pasta with cheese sauce so I'll go with that

First ship:

Probably WonderBat because I used to watch the Justice League cartoon and they were sooo ✨FHWKHFWKJDWJJDWK✨ in that show it was GREAT I love it and ship it to this day lmao

Relationship status:

Delusionally married to Hatake Kakashi, realistically single since the day I was born👍

Last movie:

Poor Things!! Watched it yesterday in theaters with my parents and I loved it! It's definitely an uncomfortable movie to watch but that's kind if the point of it so it ended up being good anyway lmao Bella Baxter is such a wonderful character and Emma Stone deserves all the awards for her acting in this. Also the way literally all the scenes look literally like paintings is BEAUTIFUL!!

Currently working on:

Cross stitching small butterflies and a big dragonfly to put on a black jeans jacket I have! But also trying to get rhino3D without paying almost US$1k to have it😬

Tagged by @bruceewayne thank youuu💕 this was very fun

No pressure to anyone I tag on here! Also I'm not tagging 9 people sorry BDJSJD @jynjackets @underwaterporcupines @andorerso @dindjarism

[dorefasolsido]

2.

1. What are you doing at this exact moment? (I want details, people!)

Details, okay. Sitting on the floor in the living room and doing a survey on my laptop while half listening to this true crime video my sister is watching. Occasionally checking my phone too.

2. The one song you will never get sick of? Additionally, any song recommendations?

I feel like there are sooo many songs I won’t get sick of. But I’ll go with Blood Sweat & Tears by BTS -- that song is just *chef’s kiss*. Alsooo, Jimin’s whole new album is fantastic, so that’s my recommendation.

3. Name everything you have ever wanted to be (occupations and random things, like animals!)

Oof, I’m pretty sure I won’t even be able to remember it all. But here goes nothing: writer, translator, chocolate factory owner, astronaut, archaeologist, Santa Claus, teacher, wizard in Harry Potter, actor, singer, artist, and ever since I got a cat, I’ve really wanted to switch places with it too.

4. What is the best fanfic you have ever read?

Ahahah so honestly, I only read really bad fanfics since I find them so funny. When I was younger I used to read some good ones too. But at this stage of my life, the more messy they are, the better. My absolute favourite of all time is My Immortal and well, it’s not good per se, but it’s a work of art.

5. Name every fandom you have ever been in! 

I’m a fan of many things but I used to avoid fandoms, so it’s only recently that I’ve actually got involved in a few. So I’d say just AoT fandom (a complete mess btw) and Army.

6. What is the saddest movie you have ever watched? Additionally, movie recommendations?

Any films where dogs die or watch their owners die, like, why. I think I cried my soul out watching Hachi and I’m not even much of a crier normally.

As for movie recs, Oldboy. Korean version though. Thank me or curse me later.

7. If you could direct your own TV show/movie, what would it be like?

I’d probably go for psychological horror with some really bizarre twist or so.

8. The cringiest account/fan account you’ve ever made? (oh god) 

I didn’t really have any, I think. There was a time I had this weird Google+ account where I followed anime pages and even became an admin of one, but I don’t think there was anything super cringy there.

...I hope.

9. What’s your aesthetic? Describe it to us.

I’m not really sure I even have an aesthetic, but I’m like a mixture of K-pop and rock/alternative/grunge scene with a little dash of Halloween (so, all in all, lots of black clothes).

10. One thing you’ve always wished you could do / be good at?

Dancing or painting.

11. Put a picture of your best (or your worst!) fanart/drawing ever!

I only do little chibi doodles here and there but they’re all pretty horrible lol

12. The best book you have ever read? Additionally, any book recommendations?

Oof, that’s a hard one. I guess one of my all-time favourites is The Trial by Kafka, but I have to mention Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata because I feel like that book both fully understands me and also changed my entire outlook on life. It’s really short too, so everyone can and should read it!

13. Most exotic food you’ve ever had?

Idk, I don’t think I’ve eaten anything too exotic. I guess octopus is kind exotic in these parts, so I’ll go with that.

14. Post a picture of the weirdest/funniest text conversation you’ve ever had!

I don’t really save pictures of my convos with friends and I won’t go looking for anything now.

15. Random fun fact about you!

Last summer at 4 am in the morning, I decided to just chop off my bangs, so I grabbed regular kitchen scissors and did it, no planning, no idea what I’m doing, no nothing. Surprisingly, they turned out okay -- not the best, but acceptable. I shudder to think what could’ve been now that I actually watched some tutorials and know how I'm supposed to do it.

16. What do you think of me?

You’re a real engima.

17. Do you have any fake names? Pseudonyms? Idk, stage names, street names? If not, what would it be?

Nah, and I don’t know what name I would give myself anyway.

18. What is your idea of a perfect life?

Just having the financial freedom to travel the world whenever I want and health to support such adventures for as long as possible. 

19. Finish the sentence: “Oh, to be a _____”

Cat.

20. Is there a stranger you would like to meet again?

A sweet old woman I met on the bus once who was telling me about her health problems. She was so grateful because I adjusted something on her phone, and I really hope she’s doing better now.

21. Post a picture of you/someone you know doing something weird. Do it, you won’t. Coward. (Obviously the pic doesn’t have to have a face in it)

Nah, I’m definitely a coward

22. Is there a place you feel homesick for even though you’ve never been there? 

So, I wouldn’t really call that homesick, but I desperately want to visit Japan. And sometimes when I watch stuff related to Japan and see the nature and the streets and all, I just go like ;-; take me there already

23. Basic, but what’s your sign?

Leo

24. What sign do you act like? What sign do you wish you were?

Idk for sure, but I always think I act more like my rising sign, Aquarius. And I don’t know which sign I’d like to be, it doesn’t really make a difference to me

25. What is one unusual thing you do?

I’m in the process of making 1000 origami cranes because a legend says you can make a wish once you’re done. I don’t actually know what I’d wish for, but by the time I’m done, I’m sure I’ll figure it out

[husbandhoshi]

OKAY. the time has finally come for me to read this award winning fic and yall are gnna get the FULL almost comp lit major breakdown

greed had always been your deadliest sin, despite everything. you want, and want, and want. you want what you can’t have, you tell yourself, but you stop at the thought. that's not it. pause, rewind, play. because the truth of the matter is, you just want what you don't deserve. you don’t deserve this—the sun-soaked kitchens, the teasing glances, the rhythmic sway in each others' arms as you wait for the rice cooker to beep, your timer set for the oven to ring, the world to finish turning from gold to dark blue to midnight.

ok this one ALWAYS hurts my feelings bc not ONLY is the "greed deadliest sin" line soooo good, the way this part is phrased is soooo..... guilt-laden and weighty and burdened. like a perfect example of show not tell.

it's 12:03AM when your phone lights up again, eyes burning in the brightness. you can only watch as you bleed.

i just love this one. that's all. it just sounds so good

he scoffs, harsh breath crackling over the speaker. “he didn’t need to. he’s locked himself in his room since last night and won’t talk to anyone else. it isn’t hard to figure out when you were the last person he called.” the influx of questions almost come pouring out before you bite your tongue—doesn’t he have schedules today? do you know if he slept last night? did he even eat at all since then— “oh,” you manage to breathe out.

HEART HURTY.... imo the kindest form of love is worry. also you truly made sunwoo sooooooo sad and pathetic.

(heat surges to the bridge of your nose, pressure builds at the back of your eyes. those three minutes had passed, so it was okay now, right? it was okay to let go?) on monday morning, six minutes past ten, you sit tourniquet-tied in a pool of dried blood of your own making, and you cry.

grrrr the prose is sooo good. also just a side remark here but the dialogue is GOOD in this scene too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! idk What you were worried abt. like the flow is good and it sounds natural

sunwoo furrows his brows, leaning closer. the earbud wire dangles precariously over the desk, headphone jack connected to your phone in the middle. breath held, you try to ignore the close proximity in favor of focusing on the chords, the bass, the melody. even with just the guide melody, each note sounds like a confession, like a secret waiting to be unveiled, wanting to be stripped and laid in the open.

i just grabbed this paragraph bc it sounded good but i like this section! it's like....wattpad au grown up bc yn has depth and you can already see the Cynical School Politics (tm) that shape yn's view of being an idol!!!!!!!!!!! like there's that element of passion and duty and capitalism and it isnt just baseless apathy towards sunwoo or like shoddy characterization but like more Informed motivations. you know.

(for when he calls, they had said gently, pushing the cupcake and the unopened candle towards you. you can blow it out with him, make your birthday wish together.) it paints you orange, the soft glow just warm enough for you to barely feel it as shadows dance on the table. ten minutes away from midnight, you hold your breath, something in your chest deflating as you close your eyes, readying yourself to blow out the candle.

NOT.....the taylor swift all too well moment. prose is chefs kiss. but alsooo i love how there's a reciprocal element here. like i hateeee one sided things bc it just feels so unfair and unrealistic but the fact that there are Actual Problems in the relationship is so refreshing

"sunwoo," you call softly. the line goes quiet. you almost regret it, the words catching in the back of your throat when you try to speak them, but you imagine what it would be like if you forced your tongue to form them anyway, awkward and wooden and hurt. “i…” it was my birthday, today. did you know? did you forget?

i loveee this part. idk

it wasn’t so much that sunwoo had forgotten your birthday, but it was everything that it encapsulated, everything it makes you realize. how he was so much bigger than this, than you, how you shouldn’t have expected him to remember every little thing when he already has so much on his plate and a hundred more important matters to worry about. didn’t you hear the rasp in his voice? the exhaustion that coated each word? how he still took the time to call you at three a.m even after a full day of work and schedules?

ugh and the guilt comes BACK. i love how this scene is interspersed with yn wandering thru their psyche + this is tied in with the environment and setting and the prose. like thematically its so good and also it really puts you into the scene. i dont even normally think like yn but this got me thinking Like That.

“i mean, i’m fine,” chanhee says, a hint of ‘of course i take care of myself, who do you think i am?’ in the retort, “but.” he pauses, taking a breath, and you can tell he tests the words on his tongue before he speaks them. “are you sure it’s me you’re worried about?”

mwah chefs kiss!! the dialogue is just a window to the nature in their relationship. it doesn't do Too Much and yet you just know how good and vulnerable the friendship is

(the memory flashes by in an instant. the chill of a cool spring night, the squeak of the swing, the dim golden light of the street lamp above. you can still feel it, sometimes, the condensation slick on your fingertips, the bite of cold metal through your palm—the warmth, in spite of that.)

the parentheticals are sooo good. as someone who uses and abuses them i think when u do it its like perfect

“and also, i just really want to see you in another one of my shirts.”

ur so mean for this. ouch

“how could you!” he exclaims, pulling his hand away. “ye of little faith…” sunwoo’s voice goes grave and solemn. “don’t you want to see me in a sexy apron.”

and then

“i mean, i know i don’t have to,” he purses his lips, frowning. “it’s not like i feel obligated or anything, but i want to.” i love you, he means. i want to love you, i choose to love you.

the whiplash this scene gave meeeeeeee........................under all the laughter and unseriousness there is STILL the guilt. bc it never goes away. its just sooooo. bangs head against wall. why does love hurt!!!!

“you were in my dream last night.” you remember the morning you’d woken up to this voicemail, remember your thumb hovering over play but not finding it in yourself to press it. you know—you’ve known since the beginning that the recording would only add to your troubles, but on a night like tonight where the noise of the work party still echoes in your head and the apartment feels lonelier than ever after a tipsy ride home, the bruise feels too tender for you to do anything but press into it, over and over and over again.

THIS SHIT HURTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also idk if ive said it too many times but the prose is soooooooooooo good. like i find it hard to read thru long introspective prose but yours always hooks me in

you ignore the calcified shame within you, play ignorant to the cycle that will inevitably repeat itself the next time a night like that comes again, and you pretend that this is the one thing you won’t let go of, even if it turns into all you have left.

ur end of scenes are always sooo good

“of course i will.” tonight’s moon waxes, its light peeking through the clouds. “i’ll always be rooting for you, kim sunwoo.”

again just grabbing the end of scene to talk abt the whole thing but THE SWINGS....................we have come full circle. and i love how yn isn't wooden. likee we love a stoic personalty but HERE i like how the roles are reversed and yn is the cheerful supportive one.

but you’re trying, slowly in your own way, to not do things like that anymore. after all, eventually the shirt needs to become just another shirt, and your voicemail will one day go back to having no more recordings saved. 

ok i love this line. i feel like the prose here is fresh its lik a good syntax change.

and yet you were the one who had smeared the paint before it could finish drying, the one who had felt so alone in watching the wear of a bridge you had deemed impossible to save. and at the end of the day, maybe the fault fell partly on both of you, stepping onto that unsteady footing together with the rope of the bridge fraying with the weight of time, but you were the one who had taken that last step to the other end without him even knowing.

yass we love that character development!!!!!!!!

but you suppose it’s always been like this, ever since the night you broke up with him—how sunwoo has been choosing to love you still, even after, and how you’ve been choosing to still love him too by refusing to truly let him go, orbiting around each other like how gravity is both the reason why a planet circles a star and why they can never ever fall into one another (again). perhaps this is just where the frayed edges of fate have left you, coming together only once before your ends are split away forever.

this is excellent i love the way the title comes back and the way this whole fic has been wrapped in such a wonderful paragraph

and despite everything, gravity fails, just for an instant, and you and sunwoo collide into each other once again.

ROARING..... RIPPING MY HAIR OUT......what a superb way to just. wrap it up. thematically artistically and the sentence reads soooo well . also YAY happy ending. i couldnt be happier

OKAY those are all the grabs i took BUT overall i loved this!!! i do NOT read angst but i greatly enjoyed every moment. there's a good mix between the heavy melodrama and the lighthearted flashbacks and i actually really like how you mixed them because the mood isn't as dour BUT you also see the happy moments through a new lens. so all of it just works well together and the pacing benefits from it.

in terms of the characterization i've said most of my thoughts. BUT like one of my pet peeves is when someone is one-dimensional or like totally blameless OR just totally impenetrable/cynical and it's all For The Drama. but i feel like you did such a good job at realistically balancing ppl's personalities and motivations and it felt organic. sunwoo is romantic BUT naive and out of touch is yn is steadfast and sincere BUT goes thru the whole arc of like becoming emotionally Unconstipated. it all works well tgt.

loved the chanhee friendship and yn's Mind Palace was so well developed and thought out. there were times i was like Yeah totally! and i don't really identify with yn at all.

ok rant over. i know i've seen bits and pieces of this over the past few weeks but it all works beautifully together and you really pulled it off. SOO proud and i can't say it enough. i am not nearly as coherent as this deserves and im writing this on my busted ass keyboard too but i hope the admiration i have for u comes thru!!!! excellent wondrful work but i didn't expect anything less <3

gravity (is the distance between you and me)

kim sunwoo x gn!reader

you tell yourself that this is for the best, that you’re only doing what needs to be done. even if it hurts now, even if it never stops hurting, maybe this is truth you’ve been running from this whole time. maybe this is just acceptance. — or: you break up with sunwoo because you love him, because you refuse to let him fall back down to earth with you; everything that follows after is an inescapable gravity.

idolverse!sunwoo x non-celeb!reader, exes!au, mostly reader-centric // 13.6k // angst with a teeny bit of fluff in between // told in alternating past and present timeskips, vaguely canon timeline but don’t look too close // 🪐fic playlist (for full experience)

if you enjoyed the fic, please leave feedback!

prologue. (love is…)

it occurs to you on a sunday night, the second-hand of the clock only a few ticks away from midnight, that this was never meant to be.

you try to not hear echoes of sunwoo’s voice in your head, admonishments scolding you gently to go to sleep, but it plays in your head regardless. truthfully, it had always sat on the edge of nagging, but you supposed that when it was him, it ended up more endearing than anything else: the pout in his lips, the scrunch in his brow, the worry in his eyes as he'd brush a strand of loose hair out of your face. 

there was always something else in his gaze, something you could never quite pinpoint—like he saw something you couldn't, like his gaze had stripped you bare of everything you'd put up to protect yourself. you try not to chase the rabbit's trail thinking about it, shoving the ghost of the memory beneath a quick, heated blink of the eyes.

it doesn't matter anymore. you've lost the chance to figure out what it had meant.

you almost laugh at the reminder; it seems you haven’t changed, even now. greed had always been your deadliest sin, despite everything. you want, and want, and want.

you want what you can’t have, you tell yourself, but you stop at the thought. that's not it. 

pause, rewind, play.

because the truth of the matter is, you just want what you don't deserve. you don’t deserve this—the sun-soaked kitchens, the teasing glances, the rhythmic sway in each others' arms as you wait for the rice cooker to beep, your timer set for the oven to ring, the world to finish turning from gold to dark blue to midnight. it's softness that makes your lungs collapse in on themselves, tenderness that burns your skin from even the gentlest brush.

you've been selfish for long enough, you think, indulging in pleasures that should have never been yours. and no matter how tightly you want to continue clinging onto sunwoo's sweet words and empty promises, the little voice in your head drowns it all out in the end. 

it's not supposed to be painless; it's rational, practical, inevitable, but so is snipping off the dead leaves off your plant after they've died, tying a tourniquet to a limb before cutting it off to prevent the infection from spreading. 

(it's for his own good. you should have done this a long time ago.)

so you pick up your phone, send a single text message to sunwoo, and wait; your knuckles turn white with the knife in your hands, like the first press of the blade to your skin. tie the knot tight, grit your teeth, you can never go back to what once was.

it's 12:03AM when your phone lights up again, eyes burning in the brightness. you can only watch as you bleed.

after. (love is sacrifice.)

chanhee calls you monday, the morning after.

it’s not so much that you weren’t expecting it, moreso that you were hoping that you’d be proven wrong, that maybe chanhee could have let it go, let it all play out without any extra fuss, but thinking back on it now, you suppose the mere thought of that was already a hopeless endeavor. phone vibrating on the counter, the caller id blares ‘choi chanhee’ in big white letters, predictably incessant. 

you can practically feel the pensiveness in the buzzing. the bated breath, the knit brows, his finger tapping on the table as chanhee waits for your voice to replace the dialing tone over the speaker. you have half a mind to just let it ring.

after all, what more could he really say? it was all over and done with, and he’d just be wasting his breath trying to convince you otherwise. but still, your phone continues to ring, and despite your better judgment, your finger slides to accept.

(if you were going to start it, you might as well go until the very end of the aftermath.)

“hello?”

chanhee lets out a sharp breath, his voice falling to a hush. “are you serious?”

not even a ‘hello’ back, you lament silently. your bottom lip catches between your teeth, nail picking at the loose skin on your thumb as you try to form a reply on your tongue. “about what?”

he calls out your name in response, exasperated. you can practically see the wrinkles knit tight in his forehead, each word stressed more than the last as he continues to scold you. “don’t play dumb with me,” chanhee retorts. “did you seriously break up with sunwoo?”

ah. straight to the point, as expected. you shift your gaze to the clock on the wall, focusing on the rhythmic ticking as it works its way through a new hour. your breathing slows to match, heart steeling, your voice thinning out into something you know you can control. “he told you?”

he scoffs, harsh breath crackling over the speaker. “he didn’t need to. he’s locked himself in his room since last night and won’t talk to anyone else. it isn’t hard to figure out when you were the last person he called.”

the influx of questions almost come pouring out before you bite your tongue—doesn’t he have schedules today? do you know if he slept last night? did he even eat at all since then— “oh,” you manage to breathe out.

“what are you doing?” he asks plainly. it’s a simple question, and it’s one you don’t know how to answer.

“i…” you chew your bottom lip, eyes picking out a small scuff on the side of your coffee table. funny, you don’t remember it being there before you had moved. “i’m not sure what you mean.”

“don’t do that, you know exactly what i mean,” chanhee counters back. “why did you break up with him? and don’t give me some bullshit excuse, because we’d both know you’d be lying.”

the clock continues to tick on the wall, and you drag your eyes over to it once more, its needle in a constant state of motion. three minutes. you could unravel the truth to chanhee in three minutes, at least the parts that really matter. choi chanhee is many things—nosy, opinionated, a gossip, but he isn’t tactless. no matter who he ends up spilling his complaints to about you and sunwoo and this entire situation, you know not a single word from his lips will ever reach sunwoo’s ears. no matter how close you and chanhee are, you would have ended the call then and there if you weren’t certain of it.

“it’s for the best,” you say softly, and it sounds so simple when you put it like that. like the nights toiling over sending that final text were all for nothing because this was just how it was meant to be, like you were just fighting the inevitable.

“you can’t actually believe that.”

something in your chest sparks, a flicker of a flame that lends itself to “we both know—” before you cut yourself off, catching the growing volume and thickness in your voice before chanhee can pick it out and lay it bare. “we both know it was never going to work out like how we wanted.”

you tense, waiting for chanhee’s incoming rebuke, but he goes quiet for a few moments before trying to speak again, slowly and carefully. “what happened?”

“nothing happened,” you stress, shaking your head, and you smear over the memory that flashes by, the hurt and loneliness that fades into nothing more than streaks of color and silence. “i just did what i should have done a long time ago.”

“you—”

“i have to go, chanhee.” choke it back. hold it in. “take care of him, okay?”

chanhee makes a noise of protest, but you hang up before he gets the chance to say anything more. you try not to look at the clock on the wall again—you already know those three minutes had passed a long time ago.

(heat surges to the bridge of your nose, pressure builds at the back of your eyes. those three minutes had passed, so it was okay now, right? it was okay to let go?)

on monday morning, six minutes past ten, you sit tourniquet-tied in a pool of dried blood of your own making, and you cry.

before. (love is youth—)

it all starts out as whispers at first.

rumors of a new transfer student spread quickly through the halls, jokes about new competition within the school said just as easily and nonchalantly as discussing the new main course added onto the lunch menu, or the latest news about which celebrity they think would make it onto dispatch headlines within the next year. it’s routine, at this point, their gossip becoming just another common occurrence during the school year. all of it is just too familiar, too predictable, your classmates’ voices droning on in your head as their gossip goes through one ear and out the other.

the new kid gets introduced during homeroom first period, and the whispers grow to a murmur. the clacking of the drumsticks from a couple kids in the back of the class stop, and the boys playing guitar in the corner of the room go silent, eyes bright and watching.

he introduces himself as kim sunwoo, an applied music major, and you wonder if he’s just another kid wanting to fulfill their idol dream—a trainee? a trainee-wannabe? there certainly weren’t a lack of those in the applied music department, and at a school like hanlim, most transfer students ended up being one of the two. repressing a sigh, you bury your head inside the crook of your arm, slumping against your desk. as if there weren’t enough empty desks scattered around the classroom belonging to students skating by their classes in favor of trainee and idol life.

you’ve heard too many whispering aspirations from other trainees about gaining fame and popularity, thousands of adoring fans loving them through their music, but you know it never really is about the music—it’s always just a means to an end, not that you could really fault them for it. everyone was working hard in different ways for their dreams, but after months of being paired with and surrounded by people who were barely around and hard to reach with a noticeable lack of passion for the same music you came to hanlim for, you’ve grown a little tired of it all. 

even the class president, park jihoon, couldn’t be excluded from that nasty habit. with more absences than attendances on his record, you had to wonder if all that struggle as a trainee at such a major entertainment company was worth it. but still, at least he tried his best at his job whenever he was here: leading the class, keeping everyone under control whenever they inevitably got frisky, and—(your eyes catch him walking over to the sunwoo’s desk and introducing himself)—making small talk with the new kids.

“where are you from?” jihoon asks, head tilted curiously. “seoul?”

sunwoo nods, and from the bits of conversation you overhear from a few desks away, it’s just as you guessed. the transfer to hanlim was only to get him one step closer to becoming an idol. you can see it all so clearly, another empty desk, another dream of wanting fame.

“are you in a company, then?”

“no, i…” sunwoo rubs the back of his neck, shaking his head half in a stupor. you can practically hear his thoughts in his poorly-veiled expression, the culture shock of the applied music department in a school like hanlim striking him swiftly. “not yet, i’m looking for one now.”

“ah, i see,” jihoon nods faintly, a spitting image of a cool class representative, and you stifle a snort beneath a hidden smile. as if jihoon didn’t only just get accepted into yg entertainment two months ago. he’s lame as always.

the boy sitting behind sunwoo chirps in after, asking him questions and starting up conversation along with another kid in their column. chin rested on your hand, you turn your head towards the window again, tuning out your classmates in favor of watching the clouds outside drift slowly along with the wind. 

(he was planning on being a trainee, after all; there wasn’t really a point in becoming invested in someone you knew you were never going to see much of again.)

except, a couple of weeks later, your teacher announces a month-long songwriting project, and sunwoo’s name gets called out next to yours as random pairs are chosen as partners. he meets your eyes from across the room, giving you a small nod of acknowledgement, and you try not to let the apprehension show on your face when you give him a polite smile in response.

you don’t even know if he knew how to write lyrics.

“so we’re writing lyrics given our assigned theme, right?” sunwoo asks after class, chair pulled up to your desk as you brainstorm for ideas.

you nod, peering over at his sheet cautiously. “do you have any ideas on how to start?”

“well,” sunwoo starts, lips pursed as he taps his pencil on his paper. “the theme is ‘love,’ right? so we could do anything about that, but…”

“it’s too broad of a topic,” you finish, frowning.

“yeah,” his eyes flicker to yours, mouth gaping open slightly, his eyes a little wide. “exactly.”

you hum in thought, a few seconds passing in silence before you pull your wired earphones out of your pocket, offering him an earbud after. you figured if you were partners, you might as well work hard together. “let’s start with this, then,” you try. “what do you think when you listen to it?”

songs were stories, after all, even without the lyrics. like putting together parts of a puzzle and assembling it piece by piece, it was your job to find what part of the story was untold and fill in the missing words.

sunwoo furrows his brows, leaning closer. the earbud wire dangles precariously over the desk, headphone jack connected to your phone in the middle. breath held, you try to ignore the close proximity in favor of focusing on the chords, the bass, the melody. even with just the guide melody, each note sounds like a confession, like a secret waiting to be unveiled, wanting to be stripped and laid in the open.

“it’s a sad song,” you comment, breaking the silence, “but it’s like…it sounds like there’s more to it than that?” you let the question hang in the air, looking at him half-expectant.

“it almost sounds…” sunwoo begins, trailing off as he mulls over his words.

“bittersweet?” 

sunwoo nods as he hurries to scribble down a few words onto the sheet of paper. the puzzle piece clicks into place. “that’s what i was thinking too. like there’s still something left to remember even if it’s all over, like…”

“like even in the hurt, it’s still—“

“—love.”

before. (love is lonely.)

party streamers littered on the floor throughout the living room, the metallic gold strips of paper and plastic scattered amongst silver glint in the darkness, catching in the lowlight. balloons of all different types of assortments were sprinkled throughout your apartment as well, regular colorful latex balloons floating above your couch and set atop your coffee table and fallen beneath your stools, while the fancier balloons had been pinned on an empty wall of your kitchen, ‘happy birthday’ with an extra exclamation mark and heart balloon spelled out in big bubble letters.

sat at the kitchen table, you watch in silence as a small candle flickers in front of you, placed in a single cupcake that your friends had insisted on saving for you after the party. 

(for when he calls, they had said gently, pushing the cupcake and the unopened candle towards you. you can blow it out with him, make your birthday wish together.)

it paints you orange, the soft glow just warm enough for you to barely feel it as shadows dance on the table. ten minutes away from midnight, you hold your breath, something in your chest deflating as you close your eyes, readying yourself to blow out the candle.

your phone lights up, ringing; you scramble to salvage what lingering traces of hope you have left.

you try not to think too much of it when the incoming call shows up as a voice call rather than video like it usually is, but your greeting slips out a little too quickly, too obvious to tell that you were waiting for him to call. “hi, sunwoo.”

“hey,” sunwoo greets back, words spoken slowly, his voice tracing the edge of a drowsy rasp. any trace of bringing up the voice call goes out the window. if this had been any normal circumstance, you would have teased him for mistapping his screen, playfully badger him to switch over to video call so you could see him in all his bare-faced glory. (but then again, a small voice in the back of your mind interrupts,  if this were any normal circumstance, he would have just been here instead of across the world.) you push the thought away; a small drop of wax begins to melt down the candle.

“we just got back to our hotel,” he tells you, and you can see it clearly almost as if you were there. the contents of their luggage messily splayed about the carpeted hotel floor, outfits for tomorrow draped on the chairs, and dirty clothes piled in a hamper in the corner. you can faintly hear a shower being turned on in the background, and sunwoo comments on it before you can ask. “can you believe this? changmin-hyung kicked me out of the bathroom as soon as we came into our room,” he complains, and you know that his lip is jutted out in a pout of indignation at the injustice of it all. “he said that i’d take too long and use up all the hot water if i went first.”

“well…” you chide softly, a smile faint on your lips. “he’s not exactly wrong, sunwoo.”

sunwoo whines, and you can hear him kick the sheet on the mattress. “you’re siding with him?”

“sorry,” and you don’t sound apologetic in the slightest. “you know i can’t lie.”

he grumbles something unintelligible as you breathe out something resembling a laugh. silence lulls for a few seconds, your shadow long on the tabletop, and you try to harden the twist in your gut, gathering the courage.

“i—”

“today—”

you stop, and so does he.

“oh, you go first,” sunwoo offers, but you hesitate, offering back.

“no, it’s okay, you go.”

sunwoo insists again, but you can sense his fight against his heavy eyelids growing closer by the second, the yawn that he stifles every time he pauses, so you force down the confession, keep your wish tucked away within the flickering candlelight. he would know, right?

“no, i mean it—what were you going to say? how was your day? how was the flight?”

there’s a moment of uncertainty where sunwoo tries to decide whether or not to continue the exchange, but he gives in eventually. “the flight was good,” he begins, albeit still reluctant. “the plane food was better than usual, surprisingly.”

you hum in acknowledgement, encouraging him to continue.

“and i fell asleep an hour in and—chanhee-hyung,” he interrupts himself, suddenly remembering. “i fell asleep and chanhee took these photos of me and—”

“were you drooling?” you guess, sympathetic.

“how did you—i mean no! i was not drooling!”

“chanhee’s newshots will never lie, you know.”

“ugh,” sunwoo groans. “remind me why you’re friends with him again?”

you contemplate, humming. “birds of a feather?”

(chanhee had actually sent you the photos earlier this morning, along with the text “happy birthday, here’s a loser as your gift.” he followed it up with an additional message of “your loser…i guess.”)

“oh, speaking of birds,” sunwoo adds, “that reminds me. i saw two ducks swimming in the river today. mandarin ducks, i think.”

“oh?”

“yeah.” his voice grows quieter, almost embarrassed as he mumbles, “they reminded me of you.”

you go still. you try to fight the hardened knot in your stomach from softening and twisting further. he’s just a hopeless romantic, you tell yourself, but the knot wrings tighter, creeping up into your chest the more you try to not think about it. mandarin ducks, the symbol of love.

(“they mate for life, you know?”)

sunwoo tries to change the subject, ears surely burning red as he stammers his way to the next topic while half-muffled into a pillow. “anyway, i didn’t call you too late, did i? it’s three a.m. over here, and i wasn’t sure. i didn’t wake you up, or anything?”

your ears ring as you swallow hard, eyes burning as you look at the clock on the wall. it ticks, once. “no, it just turned midnight here.” 

(you suddenly remember that chanhee had sent you another message afterwards, one that you never opened properly to read. “he’s said happy birthday to you already, right?” you had wanted to open it when you could respond with a “yes.”)

“oh, okay,” sunwoo smiles over the phone, love and affection still tangible even through the tiredness in his voice, the drowsiness that permeates through the speaker. “that’s good to hear. you should probably sleep soon, though, i don’t want to keep you up too late.”

“yeah,” you say, barely audible. were you expecting too much? “changmin should probably be done by now, too.”

“hey,” he frowns. “you okay?”

“yeah, i’m okay. just tired,” you tell him, tight-lipped as you smile.

“we never got to talk about your day,” sunwoo mentions, a reminder with gentle insistence. even on the verge of sleep, he was still trying.  “i’m free after dry rehearsal, so we can call again tomorrow night? i wanna hear about it first thing.”

you draw in a breath to agree, but something else slips out instead, the one thing you had tried to keep contained since the beginning. maybe you had brought this upon yourself, holding out for it until midnight slipped between your fingers, the hope in your chest slowly unfurling. you wonder if it was obvious, the remnants scattered at your feet.

"sunwoo," you call softly. the line goes quiet. you almost regret it, the words catching in the back of your throat when you try to speak them, but you imagine what it would be like if you forced your tongue to form them anyway, awkward and wooden and hurt. “i…” it was my birthday, today. did you know? did you forget?

by the kitchen, the big trash bag tied to the outside of your trash can is filled to the brim with plastic cups and paper plates. there’s still wrapping paper you need to throw away left on the counters, leftovers that need to be transferred and stored and put in the fridge. you wonder if you would have felt better about the hassle if sunwoo was there with you—to toss an empty cup into the open bag from across the room, to listen to you talk about your favorite memories from the celebration, to turn off the final light with you at the end of it all. like the old times.

even on call, he could have done most of those things, maybe even save you time from giving him a chiding look when he’d inevitably miss throwing the cup into  the trash bag by half a foot. he never really had to be here, he had just always been with you, in one way or another.

but it wasn’t not really your sunwoo anymore, was it? not really. not since he became more than that kid in the practice room with a pen between his teeth and a metronome in his hand, not since he became synonymous with the brand his name was attached to. and it was unfair of you to expect those kinds of trivial things from someone so far out of your reach now, right?

so the question remains a lump as you swallow it down—close your eyes, blink back the tears, it's your fault in the end, anyway—and smile. "no, nevermind. you must be tired, you should sleep soon."

“are you sure—“

“bye, sunwoo.” 

you watch as the reflection of the flame trembles in the small pool in the center of the cupcake; the wax has long since melted onto the frosting. you blow it out, and the candle leaves only a trace of smoke curling in the air in its wake—silent, alone.

it wasn’t so much that sunwoo had forgotten your birthday, but it was everything that it encapsulated, everything it makes you realize. how he was so much bigger than this, than you, how you shouldn’t have expected him to remember every little thing when he already has so much on his plate and a hundred more important matters to worry about. didn’t you hear the rasp in his voice? the exhaustion that coated each word? how he still took the time to call you at three a.m even after a full day of work and schedules?

you place the melted candle into the trash, carving out the tainted top with an extra knife lying on the counter. don’t be a bother. don’t hinder him with needless things.

the next morning, sunwoo calls in a panic, hurried apologies blurring all his words together in a flurry as he frantically promises to make it up to you when he comes home. you tell him it’s fine, you knew he was tired and busy and you didn’t want him to worry about it, but the soft assurance can’t hide the underlying hurt that splinters between him and you.

and he does keep his promise when he returns. the day after the plane arrives home, sunwoo’s first order of business is to insist on a full day spent together, making it his mission to be at your beck and call the entire time. he showers you with countless presents from his trip overseas and twice as much affection for each day that he was gone, but even underneath all the cheery smiles and excited banter, you can’t shake the feeling from that night. the mess on the floor, the shadows distorted in orange light.

it never really is quite the same, after that.

after. (love is a martyr.)

life goes on; it always does.

not much changes, at least nothing that isn’t glaringly obvious. you throw yourself into your work like you always have, going to countless songwriting camps and workshops, sending in drafts of songs to a&r teams of various companies only to be rejected then revised and then offered again for other songs and artists by other companies, a continuous cycle that seems to blur all the following days together. the only difference is that your phone stays eerily quiet—no scheduled ding at lunchtime reminding you to eat, no pictures shared throughout the day, no good night phone call to lull you to sleep.

though, you still talk to chanhee from time to time, if only because of his persistent insistence on the matter.

“we’re recording tomorrow,” he mentions, voice crackling over the speaker. you pause for a split second over a half-open cardboard box, hand faltering over the frayed edge of the flap. you’d only recently gotten around to unpacking the rest of your boxes from your move months ago; it wasn’t as if you were too busy to get around to it, but you suppose a part of you wanted to prolong the finality of it all, whether consciously or not. and on this wednesday afternoon on a day off, you figured it was better to do it now than never at all.

you let out an “oh”  in response, grabbing a few things from the box and placing it on the floor to reorganize later. “another comeback?”

chanhee’s chair squeaks as he hums, leaning back. he was in his practice room at the company—you can tell by the way he doesn’t whisper his words to you like they were a secret kept and hidden away. not like whenever he calls you at the dorm, careful of what wounds may open up again if someone were to overhear. “the teasers should be released soon.”

“you seem busy, lately,” you comment distantly, placing the phone on the table and setting it to speaker as you collect as many mini decorative plates and bowls in your hands before you stand up, ready to place them in various places around the living room and kitchen. remnants of the afternoon’s rain slips down the window glass, clouds casting the sky and your apartment a wash of dull gray. “first the tour, then a japanese album, now a comeback—are you sure you’re okay? you’re still taking care of yourself, right?”

“i mean, i’m fine,” chanhee says, a hint of ‘of course i take care of myself, who do you think i am?’ in the retort, “but.” he pauses, taking a breath, and you can tell he tests the words on his tongue before he speaks them. “are you sure it’s me you’re worried about?”

you place a bowl down on the windowsill a little harsher than you mean to. “chanhee.”

“sorry.”

chanhee at least sounds apologetic when he says it, but he interrupts the silence that falls soon after slowly, tentatively asking. “you’re going to listen to it though, right?”

you swallow hard, breathing out a long sigh as you pick up the phone again, holding it to your ear as you speak. “of course i am. did you even need to ask?”

“no,” he replies, a second’s pause where you think he shakes his head. “i just wanted to hear it from you for certain. to hear that you were still listening to us.”

 ‘to sunwoo.’ the words go unspoken, lying heavy in the air. it’s almost cruel, the way chanhee picks and pulls at the confession you have hidden like a wound just finished scabbing over, especially when he knows your answer just as well as you do. of course you would still be listening to sunwoo—that’s what you had promised him, way back when.

(the memory flashes by in an instant. the chill of a cool spring night, the squeak of the swing, the dim golden light of the street lamp above. you can still feel it, sometimes, the condensation slick on your fingertips, the bite of cold metal through your palm—the warmth, in spite of that.)

a small part of you whispers, what were promises really worth, in the end? you aren’t the same person you used to be, and neither is he. sixteen is a far cry from where you are in your twenties, the weight of the years lived through making you let go of the things a teenage-you wouldn’t have ever dreamed of—and that was normal, letting bits and pieces of your past selves be carried away by the passage of time. you know the same holds true for him, too.

but still. even if everything else had changed, you feel like it’s your duty, almost. to always be listening to him till the end.

“i have to go, chanhee,” you tell him, quiet. he makes a small noise over the phone, and before he can apologize, you interrupt with a small, “you’re fine. i just need to finish unpacking my stuff, and i promised myself i’d finish it all today.”

“you still haven’t unpacked?” he asks, baffled. “it’s been months?”

“i know,” you sigh, giving a little shrug. “i’ve just never gotten around to it. that’s why i have to finish it today or else i know i’ll never get back to it again.”

chanhee tells you to take care of yourself, to which you dryly remark to focus on following your own advice first and you say your farewells goodnaturedly, pressing to end the call.

it’s like a switch flips, silence falling almost immediately throughout the apartment, the heaviness in your chest weighted down even further in your solitude. you run a finger along the textured edge of the cardboard flap again, staring blankly at the items still wrapped tight in the box. a breath—in, then out, and then you blink it away, getting to work.

the box of posters and prints gets emptied out first, a roll of tape by your side as you hang up any remaining decorations that you’d left to a later affair when you’d first moved into the apartment. afterwards comes the books that you shelve carefully in alphabetical order in the small slot beneath the tv, then the living room curtains, the pack of postcards and holiday wishes kept in a tin case for safekeeping, the old journals you wrote in years ago and never looked back on since. you sometimes wonder if you should just throw them away, but you could never bring yourself to do it; you try to chalk it up to being too attached to the idea of the memories, even if you could never truly look at them again.

you heave the final box into your bedroom, hours later, huffing as you set it down in front of the drawers. sliding the bottom drawer open, the crumpled pile of clothes stuffed inside stares back at you. outside the window, golden hour peaks through your blinds, the sunset shedding just enough light for you to see in the dimness of your room. you crouch down onto the floor, knees knocking against the wood as you slowly take each article of clothing out, one by one to refold.

it was all clothes that you could afford to spare a second glance at, old shirts and pants that you never truly wore on a daily basis, clothes that were kept as another ‘just in case.’ and like the postcards and the journals and everything else in those boxes, the clothes crammed in that small space just seemed like something you kept choosing to not look at, to refuse to address in any way but in brief memory. you had told yourself that you’d always come back to it whenever you’d unpack the rest of the box of clothes, but looking back on it, maybe that was just a way of comforting yourself amidst the avoidance.

still, in the faint darkness of the room, you take each shirt out carefully, smoothing out the wrinkles and folding each crease to be in its proper shape. you had forgotten some of them existed, drawing out a small smile when you see the old mickey mouse shirt your mom had gotten you on her trip to disneyland, the student-made shirts from your high school graduating class, the club shirts you had joined in college. each refolded shirt gets stacked onto a pile beside the box, a reminder to go back and put the clothes from the box back in the drawer as well, but when you pull out the last shirt jammed in the far end of the drawer, you stop.

it’s nothing special, really, just a faded pink t-shirt with what seems like some semblance of a barely legible logo printed onto the front, but you clutch the fabric between your fingers, a memory from long ago surging back.

(“sunwoo…”

“yeah?” sunwoo pokes his head around the corner, morning sun dyeing his black hair a shade of light brown. he has a towel half-folded in his hands, corners lined up unevenly with one another. “what’s up?”

you frown, partially because you see a very near future of refolding all of the laundry he didn’t pay enough attention to, and partially because of the thing in your hands. “...you didn’t happen to put that one vintage white shirt you had in the latest pile, right?”

he frowns, eyebrows scrunching as he thinks. “i don’t know, maybe? why?”

slowly, as if to make him bear witness, you present to him his formerly treasured white shirt, freshly washed and dried, now dyed a clean shade of pale pink. “you put them in with my reds.”

sunwoo’s mouth gapes open just slightly, a small ‘ah’ escaping his lips. “i’m guessing we can’t do takebacksies on that?”

you groan, smothering your face into the shirt as you let out a long, exasperated “kim sunwoo…”

he tosses the towel in his hands onto the edge of the hamper as he steps into the laundry room, taking a closer look at it. “hey, it’s not even a big deal!” sunwoo reasons, trying to gently pry the shirt from your hands, but you wave it around accusingly before he gets a chance to get a firm grip on it.

“what do you mean,” you stress, waving the shirt that much more vigorously. “it was vintage! who knows how much you spent on this damn thing! and now it’s…” your eyes fall to it, defeated. “pink…”

“you know what, though?” he begins, taking your hands in his, and you meet his gaze, doubtful. “this is good. i’ve been wanting to give you one of my shirts anyway.”

“wha—”

sunwoo’s eyes light up, holding your hands excitedly. “it’s like, symbolic, you know? your shirt with my shirt dyed all together, it’s like…” he pauses, giving you a cheeky smile. “it’s like it’s you and me together forever.”

you can’t control the giggle that escapes after he says it, letting go of the shirt as you smack him lightly with bubbling laughter between your lips. as infectious as his smile is, dust floating in the streams of sunlight between, you call him lame for the cheesy comment because he is—he is lame for coming over to your place on his rare weekend off and of all the things he could do, he offers to fold your laundry together while simultaneously ruining one of his pieces of clothing in the process of trying to help, and then spins it in a way where none of it really matters because at the end of the day he knows it’s always just going to be him and you.

“and also, i just really want to see you in another one of my shirts.”

you throw the abandoned towel from the hamper into his face and tell him to go fold it instead, affection ever-present in your eyes. lame.)

that morning seems so far away when you think of it now. you bring the shirt to your face again—maybe for nostalgia’s sake, maybe to get some trace of what once was. wrinkles littered throughout the fabric, the smell of old wood from being stuffed in a drawer for months permeates through the shirt; darkness falls in the room as the sun fully sets, leaving only a sliver of dark orange lining the horizon.

you remember it, still. the scent of freshly washed fabric softener and the soft morning light and the heap of other clothes you and sunwoo had painstakingly gone over twice to make sure nothing else had leaked through and been dyed other colors, playful and teasing. you wonder what he would say to you if he saw you now, sitting on the floor with piles of clothes folded even with the wrinkles still tight. what he would say to you, if you listened.

and when you hold the shirt still for a second longer, breathing it in again, you realize that even the small traces of his old cologne were gone, too, all washed out with time.

you remember it all, and none of it is there anymore.

before. (love is like clouds, like fog.)

it’s a bit floaty, how the night comes to an end.

(sunwoo had arrived at your place around one a.m., hands shoved in his jacket pockets as he rocked back slightly on his feet, giving you a half-cheeky half-abashed grin. “i don’t suppose you’d be in the mood for a midnight snack, would you?”

already clad in warm pajamas and almost all finished washing up, you had stared at sunwoo for a long moment, slowly blinking, before creaking your door open wider and stepping to the side. “it’s cold. do you want ramyun?”)

he’d come immediately after practice, the sessions where they’d spent the entire day at the studio and only managed to come home at the insistence of their managers. it was for something they were preparing for, you know that for sure, so you hold your tongue from chiding him for not calling you ahead of time and instead shuffle to your kitchen, pot clanging onto the stove.

he was under enough stress as of late; you tried to support him in the ways you could, no matter how little they were.

when you both finish the two packs of ramyun and he offers to wash the pot, you shoo him away with a threatening slap of the pink rubber gloves by the sink, telling him to go wash up instead under the pretense of his post-practice sweat stinking up your entire apartment. sunwoo gasps, retorting that he smelled perfectly fine, but you give him a single look and he trudges away into the hallway, a weak indignant kick to the floor as he mumbles under his breath.

it never really comes up directly, the topic of disbandment, from you or from him. you talk of the preparation of road to kingdom, the exhaustion and stress that comes along with it, the weight its potential success carries unspoken between it all. you’re not entirely sure if the avoidance of the topic is deliberate on his part or not, but you try not to push for it too much. you know just as well as he does, and neither of you try to make it anything more than that.

“you know what,” he starts, later in the night when both of you are washed up and curled up in bed. “i’ve been thinking about it recently; it wouldn’t be so bad.”

you raise a curious brow, propping your head up as you turn to get a better look at him. “what wouldn’t?”

“you know, becoming a house husband.”

“sunwoo,” you blink. “what.” it was way too late for him to just be saying shit like this.

“i am just saying!” sunwoo gestulates dramatically with a hand, trying to prove his point. “if it doesn’t work out, i can definitely do the cooking and cleaning around this place while you go to work.”

“you can’t even clean up after yourself.”

“i can, i just don’t want to!”

you cast him a doubtful look, one filled with the knowledge that eric still complains daily about the pile of clothes tossed in the living room that are definitely sunwoo’s no matter how hard he tries to deny it, and that changmin loses half a year of his life every time he discovers another face mask sunwoo had slapped onto the wall or ceiling of their dorm room, and that the electricity bill at their dorm would run them to mere pennies if younghoon was never there to turn off the lights that sunwoo was supposed to. “is there a difference…”

“yes!” sunwoo insists, a strangely adamant look on his face. “i could totally do it. you would come home from a long and busy day of work and i’d have your entire dinner hot on the stove with a warm bath ready for you—you wouldn’t even have to lift a finger if i was there.”

you place a hand slowly on his, a placating gesture. “baby…” you coo, appeasing, and sunwoo tries to control his expression to keep up the indignancy. poorly, with the way he almost fumbles his entire stance at the mere mention of the petname, but at least you can tell he’s trying his hardest. “i think you’d burn my entire apartment down. or flood it, depending on which one goes horribly wrong first.”

“how could you!” he exclaims, pulling his hand away. “ye of little faith…” sunwoo’s voice goes grave and solemn. “don’t you want to see me in a sexy apron.”

“if i wanted to see you in a sexy apron, i would just give one to you.”

and even though sunwoo sulks and pulls a face at you, his insistence turns a bit softer when he repeats, “really, though.”

 he goes quiet, picking at a loose thread on your comforter. “it wouldn’t be so bad, if…if it doesn’t work out.” ‘it’ being road to kingdom, ‘it’ being their next album, ‘it’ being the boyz as a whole; your heart sinks. “i think the rest of us would just go back home, you know? maybe we’d pretend that these past years never happened, maybe all these memories would just turn bitter, but…” sunwoo gives you a lopsided smile, soft. “i would still come back home to you.”

the sentiment aches a little, your breath hitching as you try to rifle through the layers of emotions that sink to the bottom of your stomach, like picking at skin still raw underneath and not yet ready to peel. you wonder if he means it, if he truly sees you as a home to come back to or if you’re just something familiar, something safe; it’s not much of a distinction, but the details make all the difference—whether you’re somewhere he belongs, or if you’re simply kept sepia-tinted as a place to keep his preserved youth. the words escape from you before you can stop them.

“you don’t have to, you know.”

sunwoo pauses, and there’s a silence that falls soon after that makes you shrink into yourself, regretting words that can’t be taken back. “what do you mean?”

“if it doesn’t…” you don’t want to speak it into existence—they’ll do well, they have to. you try to form your words carefully, deliberately, so that they’ll be spoken correctly and convey exactly what it is you mean, but it all comes poorly anyway, clumsy and messy as you trip over your own tongue. “you don’t have to…you know.” your mouth goes dry. “stay.” 

sunwoo tries to not look offended at the suggestion, even if his furrowed brows say it all. but despite his own feelings on the matter, he tries his best to reign in his instinctive reaction, instead going to slowly coax you away from the ledge you’ve driven yourself to.

“i mean, i know i don’t have to,” he purses his lips, frowning. “it’s not like i feel obligated or anything, but i want to.” i love you, he means. i want to love you, i choose to love you.

there are a lot of things about sunwoo that you don’t quite understand—how he can internalize his envy to fuel his ambition, or how he still remains soft-hearted even after all these years, but you can’t begin to understand why sunwoo still holds onto you when you’ve long since stopped being something that he needs, nothing but a safe reminder of what once was. does he know? can he sense the way the two of you have started constantly tiptoeing around each other while trying to keep up an easy sense of normalcy, the memory of youth neither of you can return to? 

you’ve been holding back from each other—not just him, but you too. it’s easy, to slip into old banter and avoid the things bothering you, to play the part of your teenage selves full of passion and hopeful, unattained dreams, and maybe sunwoo knows this too. maybe he knows and he doesn’t want to admit it, allowing his world to be rose-colored to cling onto a past that leaves him loveblind to what he really needs, to keep him from acknowledging the fact that you’re nothing but a fragment of the past, something kept to fester.

sunwoo is a star, you think—no, you know. you’ve known for quite some time now, how he was bright and shining and meant for things lightyears away from anything you could ever see, and yet here he was instead: inside your apartment late at night in your bed, talking about how he was ready to fall back down to earth to be with you. like you were tying him down to somewhere he was never meant to stay, he was never meant to be.

and an hour later, when time sits between the precipice of twilight and dawn, you whisper an apology to him so faint it lingers in the air, floating between you and sunwoo’s still form. you’re sure he doesn’t hear it, that he’s been sound asleep for the past couple of minutes and it remains a secret between you and the not-yet-risen sun, but sunwoo shifts slightly, blinking at you in the dark, and ah. he wasn’t asleep after all.

turning to fully face you, he sits up to match your posture and takes a breath, a hand coming to rest on the back of your head as he bumps his forehead gently into yours. his eyes flicker over your features, concern etched clear even in the blinking drowsiness. “what?” what are you talking about, are you okay?  “what for?”

you shake your head, leaning into his touch as if to have the memory of him last just a little longer on your skin. it’s too much to say, too much of a weight to have sunwoo shoulder alongside you. so you tamp it down, swallowing back the lump in your throat as you blink away the heat behind your eyes. i’m just sorry. for everything.

sunwoo’s brows furrow, sheets rustling as he shifts again to sit up straighter, but you find his hand gently, threading your fingers through his as you smile—something soft and tender and so full of burdens it slips through and becomes fragile instead.

“it’s okay. nevermind.”

after. (love is a dream, lingering.)

you’re not sure if you can feel your face by the time you come stumbling back into your apartment.

fresh from a work dinner, the alcohol still buzzes in your system even through the barbeque you’d eaten along with the soju, even after the taxi ride home. too many seniors had offered to pour your drinks, all attributing them to the success of the most recently released song you’d worked on, and of course, you had to take it all with two hands, a polite smile, and the burn of the liquid on its way down. even if the taxi ride home had sobered you up slightly, your head still remains fuzzy and unfocused by the time you find the right key to your apartment and fumble with it before opening up the door.

you kick off your shoes by the front and drop your bag somewhere by the kitchen before making your way to the living room, coat thrown on the ground as you crumple yourself in the space between your coffee table and the foot of the couch. slipping your phone out of your pocket, you wince at the sudden brightness of the screen as it lights up. the apartment always seemed loneliest, like this.

it’s late, almost two in the morning from what you can make out from the glare of the screen, but you only look at it for a second before you swipe up, squinting as you enter your passcode. everything after this, you know, has morphed its way into being muscle memory more than anything else. 

you ignore the warning that pops in the corner of your phone in a red-laced ‘20% remaining’ and you let the practiced motions take over, tapping phone, then voicemail, and before you know it you’re back where you always are, staring at the only recording in your inbox before you press play.

a few seconds of silence fill the air, static crackling over the speaker, and then a voice speaks.

“hey.” it comes out shaky, just barely enough for you to tell. you want to say you probably wouldn’t have been able to hear it if you hadn’t listened to it so many times by now, but truthfully, you’d heard the slight tremble in the voice since the very first time.

(it was sunwoo, after all. how could you not know?)

sunwoo takes in a sharp breath, the beginning of an apology readying to end the call caught in his throat; you sometimes try to imagine a world where the apology goes through, where he instead tells you sorry, i shouldn’t have called and hangs up before the point of no return, but you’re glad this is the world you live in instead. the one where sunwoo swallows past the regret and starts to speak again, too light and full of faux casualness for his easy demeanor to be sincere, the one where you have the chance to hear his voice again. “strange hearing from me, right? shit, i don’t even know if this is still your number—i guess i could have asked chanhee-hyung to make sure but i’m not sure he would have been too happy to hear me ask about you.” 

he pauses, and from the amount of times you’ve listened to it you’ve made into something resembling a little game, filling in the gaps of what he could have done in the pockets of silence—like he’d squeezed his eyes shut at the thought, or he’d pressed into the spot between his eyes to fight away the image of chanhee’s disapproving stare. “he always did that, you know. for a long time after…” sunwoo bites his tongue. “i think it was pity, like he felt bad. not that he needed to, or anything, but you know how he is.”

he pauses again, as if scrambling for what to say next, what direction to take the one-sided conversation. “i, um, i don’t know if you heard, but we recently moved to a new dorm. we split into three separate ones, so we all got our own room, and you think that’d be great and everything after sharing a room with kevin-hyung for the past few years but we played rock, paper, scissors for our room picks and—” indignancy sneaks its way into his cadence, and you smile at this part always “—i really think i got the smallest room. i’m pretty sure it’s smaller than the bathroom. and jacob-hyung got the biggest room!” sunwoo continues, grumbling. “i’m not mad about it or anything, it’s fine… it just seems a little unfair, don’t you think? and, and…”

your eyes flicker, watching the seconds on the timestamp tick by as sunwoo continues to ramble about the most miniscule of things: more dorm shenanigans that sunwoo insists he was completely innocent in, how he’d run into jihoon backstage during a music show after not seeing him for a while, the pictures his members had posted for his birthday that he claims could have potentially ruined his ‘sexy and charismatic’ image with the fans forever. it all feels like he’s scraping the surface, the real reason he called still buried deep beneath all the frivolous hedging; it’s become almost obvious, given the amount of times you’ve listened to it, how each word is just another second stalled trying to build up enough courage.

and finally, when all of sunwoo’s pretense dies, when the lull at the other end of the line comes again, whatever he was planning on saying next deflates as he goes quiet, finally gathering enough courage for the whole truth. you mouth the words, ears buzzing, the timing and cadence seared into your memory.

“you were in my dream last night.”

you remember the morning you’d woken up to this voicemail, remember your thumb hovering over play but not finding it in yourself to press it. you know—you’ve known since the beginning that the recording would only add to your troubles, but on a night like tonight where the noise of the work party still echoes in your head and the apartment feels lonelier than ever after a tipsy ride home, the bruise feels too tender for you to do anything but press into it, over and over and over again.

“i’m not even sure why i called you just to tell you that—i didn’t even get to say it to you.” sunwoo lets out a wry laugh. “i mean, of course you wouldn’t pick up, it’s five in the morning, i don’t really know what i was expecting, but i…no.”  the confession tumbles from his lips, shaky and vulnerable and no matter how many countless times you’ve heard it, it still feels like slicing open an old wound. “i think i just wanted to hear your voice.”

sometimes, you let this section play out fully, his words like tiny shards of glass forming cuts on your skin without stopping; other times, you press pause just to replay it, just to hear him say it again, just to feel the sting and ache as you try to recreate the rawness you’d felt the very first time you heard it. salt in a wound is still salt no matter what name it tries to go by, but you suppose that’s why you’ve trapped yourself in this routine in the first place—to make sure the bruise still hurts, to pick at the scab just to see it bleed.

“i guess it just didn’t work out though, did it? your voicemail’s still the same automated message it’s been since high school, so all i’m really doing here is embarrassing myself.” everything laid down and exposed with no walls left to hide behind, sunwoo’s words come quiet and fragile. “i think a part of me expected it to still be the same, but—maybe the other part of me hoped things had changed. isn’t that ironic?” he breathes out a small resigned laugh. “change is what got us here in the first place, and now here i am, talking to myself and leaving a voicemail to a number that i’m not even sure is yours. pretty stupid of me, right?”

sunwoo swallows hard and so do you, the memory of the words ringing in your ears before he speaks them. “i miss you,” he says eventually. “i’m sorry.”

the faint static on the other end of the line tapers on for one, two, three seconds more before the recording finally ends, stretching into true silence. the first few times you had listened to it, you’d kept your ear pressed to the speaker, replaying those last few seconds desperate for anything else you could have missed, anything you could make out after his final words. now, you simply stare at the screen, still burning bright in the dark.

it’s almost funny, the way this has formed itself into something resembling a bad habit. every time, you go through the motions like they’re old and used and worn because they are, no matter how much you refuse to admit it; and each time, you take the shame and the guilt that curls in your stomach and ball it up inside of you, letting it seep into your bones, so that the next morning when you wake up, you can look at yourself with your newly polished and clean exterior and pretend that it’s merely something left in the past.

but for now, you hit play on the recording again, watching the seconds tick by once more.

(the next morning, you wake up to your phone still in your hands, battery completely dead, the previous night nothing but a pounding headache and a blur of what might have been. a new day, and yet it all feels like the same motions all over again. 

you ignore the calcified shame within you, play ignorant to the cycle that will inevitably repeat itself the next time a night like that comes again, and you pretend that this is the one thing you won’t let go of, even if it turns into all you have left.)

before. (—you were my youth.)

it’s a tuesday night when you see sunwoo again.

dressed only in sweats and a jacket for extra warmth, you had just finished your regularly scheduled convenience store snack run, plastic bag in hand, when you turn the corner and see a glimpse of him: backpack slung over his shoulder, trudging steps, wearing single gray hoodie that was no doubt too thin for him to not catch a cold on an early spring night. blinking, you register the familiar face for a split second before you call out after him, half-jogging to catch up.

“hey! hey, sunwoo!”

for a moment, it’s almost as if he doesn’t hear you; and then, his foot stops in front of the other, hand moving to take out an earbud. sunwoo turns around, gaze wandering until he meets your gaze. his eyes light up in recognition as he makes out your face in the residual light from the convenience store windows, the glow of the street lamp a few feet away.

he holds up a hand for a polite wave. “oh, hey.”

“heading home?” you ask, peering at him. you hadn’t really seen much of him these past few months, other than the increasingly sparse times you’d spot him in class.

“yeah,” sunwoo nods, a slight smile to go along with it. “just got back from training.”

“ah, i see.” it’s a little strange, looking at him now. even if you hadn’t taken a good look at him recently, you could still tell something was a little off about him; maybe in the way he was carrying himself, the heaviness of his step, the half-hearted way his smile didn’t look quite like the one you were used to.

then again, what did you know? it wasn’t as if you were best friends or anything—after you’d partnered with him for that one project months ago, you’d only talked to him a handful of times, either in passing or when you saw each other around. calling him a close friend would be far from the truth, but calling him just a classmate wouldn’t exactly be accurate either. you suppose he stood in a strange middle ground, one you didn’t seem to mind.

but even so, maybe even just the implication of friendship was enough for the concern to fully settle itself into your mind, the reason why you can’t bring yourself to just brush off his exhaustion as a result of the late hour, and why you impulsively jab your thumb towards the neighborhood playground a block away, the plastic bag in your hands rustling from the motion. “you wanna make a small pitstop before you go?”

and surprisingly, despite a moment’s hesitation, sunwoo takes you up on the offer.

it’s how you find yourself sitting together on the swingset, the subtle squeak of metal on metal almost serving as a familiar comfort as you rock back and forth, heels digging into the bark beneath. “i heard you got into loen, right?” you try, peeling your awkward stare from the chipped paint on the side of the swing over to the boy next to you. “how is that going? i never really got the chance to congratulate you on it.”

“it’s good,” sunwoo replies, almost on instinct, but before he can continue, he closes his mouth instead. the rest of the sentence tapers off into an awkward silence, leaving you to fill in the gaps.

“tough?” you ask, more of a rhetorical than anything else. maybe you were overstepping your bounds by prying, but the least you could do is offer a lending ear, especially now that you were both here anyway. “i might not be a trainee,” you offer, “but i know it can’t be easy.”

sunwoo presses his lips into a line, swallowing in contemplation, before nodding.

“i don’t know,” he confesses, the toe of his shoe digging a hole into the woodchips. “it’s definitely hard, but it’s not just that… i like that it’s hard, you know? it means i’m challenging myself and it means i’m learning, it’s just—they said they’re selecting the debut lineup soon.” the swing chain squeaks between the rustling of the bark. “what if i don’t make it?”

(what if i never make it?)

you get it—the uncertainty that haunts every step of this path. you’ve seen enough of your friends and classmates drop everything to pursue their dreams, only to have it thrown back in their face, failures either resulting in a renewed perseverance or the battering of their soul. and even if you weren’t taking part in the same rigorous and merciless training process that plagues them, the crumbling foothold follows you too, at times, all for a dream you can’t ensure will spare you even pennies in return.

but you do it because you want to, because you have to, because you love it too much for there to be any other option you’d be willing to fathom. and in spite of the short time you’ve gotten to know him, you’re sure the same holds true for sunwoo, too.

“then you try again.” his head shoots up, and you meet his eyes with a smile. “and you keep trying and trying until you can’t anymore—because you love it, right? dancing, singing, performing? you wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t.”

you watch his expression carefully as your words land, waiting for the smallest sign to back off, but instead, sunwoo gives you a resolute nod, taking each word to heart.

“you can do it,” you tell him, every word sincere. “i know you can.”

there’s a certain weight in his gaze afterwards that almost makes you regret having said it, almost like you’ve overstepped in your own direction instead. what were you even doing?

 the sudden intimacy of the moment settles into your stomach all at once, and you try to grasp at anything to bring back the lighthearted mood of a few minutes ago—for your own sake. clearing your throat, you try to dispel the sudden heaviness in the air.

“in any case,” you start, rifling through your bag. fishing out a container of strawberry milk, you stand up and walk over to sunwoo, pressing it against his cheek; he jumps from the sudden cold against his skin. “you know we have exams coming up, right?”

sunwoo groans, raising a hand to take the milk. “what if i just dropped out like jihoon?”

before he can grab it, you press the container harder into his face, frowning. “don’t even think about it!”

“but…” sunwoo looks up at you with sad, shining eyes, panhandling for a single ounce of pity. “that means no more exams…”

“and then what,” you reply dryly.

he finally takes the milk from your hands, pressing it to his forehead with his eyebrows furrowed, the beads of condensation threatening to slip down his palm. “okay, you have a good point.”

you roll your eyes, but sunwoo snaps his head up after a second of thinking longer, milk sloshing in the container at the sudden motion. “you wouldn’t leave me out to die all on my own, would you?”

“huh—”

sunwoo pleads your name in a dramatic fashion, hesitating a little before grabbing your hands to continue his spiel. you have a brief yet vivid image of his resemblance to a raccoon digging through your trashcan in your front yard. begging for scraps… “you have to remember me when you’re famous, okay…”

“sunwoo,” you exasperate, trying to pry your hands away from his, freezing and wet from the cold milk. “you aren’t dropping out and you are not becoming homeless.”

he nods enthusiastically. “right, because i’d have you!”

“don’t you have any other friends?”

sunwoo looks you dead in the eye, his grip tightening. “i have friends, but you would have the songwriting royalties.”

“for the last time,” you groan, finally slipping your hand away from his grasp. “you’re not gonna drop out, and you’re not going to become homeless! and you’re going to make it!” you rub your hand gingerly on the side of your jacket to wipe off the excess condensation. “enjoy the strawberry milk, i’m gonna head home.”

you turn and take a few steps, only for sunwoo to call out to you again. “hey, wait.”

pausing, you look back curiously. “yeah?”

“if…” he starts slowly, staring at the milk in his hands. “when i debut,” he rescinds, meeting your eyes. “will you listen? to me, i mean—even if you’re the only one?”

“i definitely won’t be the only one,” you chide, stuffing your hands in your pockets. the night air was growing colder by the second, remnants of winter lingering in the beginnings of spring. funnily enough, you don’t really seem to mind the chill. “we’ll make it, okay? we’ll make it together.”

you attempt to leave it at that, but the way he looks back at you, sunwoo holds the question between the two of you, still waiting for your answer—like he would have waited forever for it, if he needed to. and despite your previous unfamiliarity with sunwoo in this sort of setting, you figured it would be cruel to deny him of at least an earnest answer.

“to answer your question, though.” you try to look away to break the weight of his gaze, but you find yourself pulled back to it anyway. finding the resolve to match his, you step forward again. he needed to hear this; and maybe, you needed to say it, too. 

“of course i will.” tonight’s moon waxes, its light peeking through the clouds. “i’ll always be rooting for you, kim sunwoo.”

after. (yet. love is always, always, a choice.)

the first few times you see the video on your recommended page, you try to ignore it.

you shove it to the back of your mind and you tell yourself it can wait just a little longer, that there’s no difference from watching it a few days from now. except the days stretch on into weeks, and it still remains untouched, lingering forever in an endless present. the video itself isn’t anything big, objectively speaking, but the heaviness of it weighs on you every time you see the title, knowing what it consists of: special release from kim sunwoo of the boyz, self-composed track.

it’s not exactly breaking the promise you had made to him all those years ago, more like putting it on hold. and maybe it’s for the best, the waiting period, but the longer you wait, the more things just keep piling on and shoved into the shelf to collect dust over the past few months—their last single, the mini-album that followed after, and now this. you had tried, that first time chanhee had asked you about it. you couldn’t make it far before you had to turn it off.

you tell yourself you’ll get around to it when it stops hurting, a soft assurance to still keep your promise, but you know it’s hypocritical to give yourself that easing comfort when in the same breath you’ve been pressing into the bruise again and again, never giving it the time and space to heal. the pain has never stopped you before, rather, you’ve grown close with the ache, the faint memory of the wound, but there’s something distinctly different about listening to his music that hurts too much for you to continue. 

maybe it’s the way it brings you back to that classroom and that swingset and everything you know you can never go back to; or maybe, despite the voicemail that you still come back to on the loneliest of nights and the wrinkled shirt that remains crumpled in the corner of your room, a part of you knows that the salt in the wound would be nothing compared to digging an even deeper, uglier wound in a cut scabbed over. that’s only what it could feel like, if you listened to him before you were ready. 

you want the memories as a lingering taste alone, but you’re scared that if you go back to that promise with two feet planted and an open heart, if you delve into the memories completely, you won’t be able to come back out.

tonight is different, though.

you want to blame it on the hour that hosts the beginning of dawn, or the way you can’t go back to sleep, or the dream you’d had before you had woken up, the details fading more each second. but when the video appears once again, thumbnail ingrained into your mind, you don’t even need to look at the title before you finally click on it.

(you had dreamt of him, that night. 

it was a good dream, you think, at least in the moment—more of an old memory than anything else. sunwoo had come over the night before his birthday for an early celebration, insisting on being congratulated by you first thing once the clock struck twelve. you remember it being a small celebration, just the two of you in your apartment together with cheesy decorations and balloons blown up spelling out his name and a golden ‘hbd’ strung along the walls. 

the rest of it comes in and blurs together in flashes: the strawberry cake you’d bought to share together, the way you’d wiped the frosting on his nose only for him to smear a bigger chunk onto your cheek, the shoddy match that came with the cake that sunwoo couldn’t light, no matter how hard he tried to save himself from the embarrassment.

and usually when you wake up from a good dream, you fall asleep again soon after, just to catch the traces of the dream before it’s gone forever. but you’re trying, slowly in your own way, to not do things like that anymore. after all, eventually the shirt needs to become just another shirt, and your voicemail will one day go back to having no more recordings saved. 

you want to think you have it in you—to let the wound finish scabbing over and heal, to finally let it fade into almost nothing but a brief mark of time in your skin.)

the music starts the second the video starts to play, and you feel a pull at your gut, an inner voice whispering. you can still back out, it says, soothing. you haven’t hit the point of no return yet. it’s okay if you’re still not ready.

but then sunwoo’s voice cuts through the noise, each word sung with his heart on his sleeve, and that part of you grasping for any form of protection left instantly goes quiet. if it were about anything else, maybe you could have rationalized it to yourself and clicked out of the video, convince yourself to go back to sleep and that it was okay to wait. another time, another day, another world.

when he sings, he sings of you, he sings to you, and you remember that you had never truly listened to the words he’d wanted to say to you since you’d sent that text that ended everything that night—not really. didn’t you owe him, then, at least this?

so you swallow hard, and you blink until lights dot the inside of your eyelids, and you listen.

(sunwoo’s lyrics talk of love, how he had wanted to be yours. he had wanted to be yours forever, and yet he ended up losing you and maybe that was his fault; maybe if he had shown you his love better then you wouldn’t have let him go, then you would still be by his side instead of appearing only when he closes his eyes, unsure to call you a dream or a nightmare. not that it mattered, you were still his universe, no matter what. even in the hurt, it was still love)

it’s all wrapped up in pretty lyricism and intricate metaphors to keep the listener guessing for the true meaning, but you’ve always understood him best when it was through song. you think you had forgotten that, after so many years together and knowing him through everything else, but with the music playing through your headphones and the screen of your computer flashing the images in the silence of your apartment, it was like coming back to your roots. like you were in that classroom with a pen and paper and that playground with the chill of spring still warm on your beating hearts and how you’ve known him intimately before you even knew you could.

it all felt so simple, back then. like budding love was all you would ever need, before everything else got in the way, but—no. you stop at the thought. that’s not quite it.

(pause, rewind, play.)

it was always simple to sunwoo. he was a star burning bright and blind to you, growing farther from your reach each passing day, but to him, you were never anything less than the universe itself. was it truly so horrible—bearing attachment to his youth? you were still growing beside him, right? you were the home he wanted to return to, weren’t you?

and yet you were the one who had smeared the paint before it could finish drying, the one who had felt so alone in watching the wear of a bridge you had deemed impossible to save. and at the end of the day, maybe the fault fell partly on both of you, stepping onto that unsteady footing together with the rope of the bridge fraying with the weight of time, but you were the one who had taken that last step to the other end without him even knowing.

lit match in your hands, you had burned that bridge for what you’d perceived to be the greater good, to destroy it before it could collapse and take both of you with it. an act of cowardice disguised as selflessness, you’re left to stare at nothing but the ashes and cinders you had set aflame. but in the wreckage, only after everything do you finally understand what that indiscernible emotion was in his eyes when he looked at you, what he had meant that night by choosing to love you.

in the silence, daylight breaks, your once dark apartment beginning to tinge a soft yellow glow.

(the ground beneath your feet steady, you look to the other end of what once was, carrying the pieces of wood in your hands. if you tried to build that bridge towards sunwoo again, panel by panel, could you rebuild something stronger from the ashes? would sunwoo help if he knew, repairing each step together with you?

you’re not afraid of finding out the answer—not anymore.)

epilogue. (love is gravity.)

the sun rises fully soon after, the sky turning into a brighter, deeper shade of blue as the hour passes. still lingering along the edge of dawn, you know if you looked outside you would see the frost beginning to melt on the blades of grass, the slow trickle of cars onto the road as people were starting to head to work. it’s subtle, the difference between five a.m. and six a.m., but it’s enough for you to feel the shift in the air.

gnawing at your lip, you reach for the phone lying on the table. it’s an aching sense of déjà vu as you unlock your phone and scroll through your contacts, searching for a single name. you can only imagine if this is what sunwoo felt like, the night he’d called you, half-hopeless as you press the phone to your ear, the first dial tone ringing. 

(you want to let yourself not hurt anymore—to allow the wound to heal, to finally let go of all the shame inside of you. it’s your first step in trying to repair that bridge you had once burnt down, your first choice where you try to move forward. but sometimes, to move forward is really to move back to where you want to be, back where you belong.)

each additional ring that repeats comes with decreasing expectation, and you brace yourself for the voicemail message that will inevitably come. of course he wouldn’t pick up this early in the morning, you tell yourself, another ring echoing. you wonder if this will become a new pattern, one voicemail to another, always barely missing each other in efforts to reconcile, always a little too late. trading in one bad habit for another, maybe this was just how it was meant to be.

but you suppose it’s always been like this, ever since the night you broke up with him—how sunwoo has been choosing to love you still, even after, and how you’ve been choosing to still love him too by refusing to truly let him go, orbiting around each other like how gravity is both the reason why a planet circles a star and why they can never ever fall into one another (again). perhaps this is just where the frayed edges of fate have left you, coming together only once before your ends are split away forever.

but when the sixth ring sounds and you prepare to hear the automated message, drawing in a breath to scramble together a message to leave at the beep, you hear a single voice instead. your breath hitches.

“hello?”

your lip trembles as you press the phone harder to your ear, heat surging to the bridge of your nose, the back of your eyes. you try to keep your voice steady but it comes out watery instead, words spilling over before you know it. “hi. it’s me.”

and despite everything, gravity fails, just for an instant, and you and sunwoo collide into each other once again.

[xgryffinwhore]

Hey! Can I request a jaeden martell x reader where basically their charters are dating on a tv show and they are really really good best friends in real life and they they both go on the Jimmy fallon show and he keeps on asking if they’re dating because everyone thinks they are and when they say no he obvi doesn’t let it go lol and it ends up slipping up that jaeden did/ does have a crush on reader and they maybe end up sharing a kiss in front is Jimmy & audience & stuff😶just an idea i had 😂:)

i love this idea wow, thinking i’m going to put my own little twist on it but i think you’ll still be pleased ;)

just friends

warnings!: suggestive topics, fluff

word count: 2.1k

five

your face was being touched up with powder, the cotton pad dabbing at your nose as the white powder absorbed into any oil your face may have had.

four

you look over at jimmy, this wasn’t your first talk show, but it had been the biggest one with the most following. it was intimidating, you bounced your foot up and down and played with your hands.

three

behavior jaeden had grown to recognize. he knew you better then you knew yourself, your anxiety was worse then you put it out to be. “you ok?” he questioned, “fine, i’m fine” you painted a small smile on your face. but he wasn’t easily fooled.

two

he grabbed one of your hands and rubbed circles into your palm, this sent vibrations of relaxation down your spine.

one

his eyes locked with yours, you swore they were a different color each time you saw them. sometimes more blue, sometimes more green, sometimes dark with mystery, sometimes light and playful.

‘aaand where on air’

you wiped the hand that was interlocked with his off on your dress, it was clammy. the curtain came up fast, and your vision was soon flooded with bright lights and silhouettes of bodies.

making out the faces in the sea of people was impossible, but you knew your friends were out there. they had flown out to see you, a) they could go see new york and b) you were on national television, and they wouldn’t miss it for the world.

jimmy was talking, you knew that much, but your nerves took over and honestly you weren’t registering a damn thing he was saying. the crowd cheered, you snapped out of your daze.

“and here tonight, we have jaeden martell and y/n l/n from the new HBO tv series: turning tables”

he turned to both of us, and gave everyone time to clap. he tired to speak over the loud hands, moving on with his show, but the crowd made that difficult. eventually the clapping died out and he could continue.

“now, i’ve watched all of the episodes but, for the people who haven’t seen: can you explain what the show is about?” he looked a jaeden, you let go of a breathe you had held in.

“s-sure” jaeden turned to face the audience more, he was soft spoken and shy, so it was important he projected as much as he could.

“turning tables is a teen drama. it’s about families of poverty in the seattle washington area and how they struggle to go to school and work. my character, jennings cooper, is the main protagonist. the show is mainly from his point of view, and how he struggle to support his family.”

jimmy nods and smiles, he looks pleased with his explanation. i’m truth the show wasn’t that simple, he knew that. but, it would take so long to explain.

“and y/n, who do you play?” he knew the answer to this obviously, but you were becoming a crowd favorite. everyone loved your personality, and you were an up-and-coming a list celebrity.

“i play parker marlow, jennings girlfriend” you blushed at this statement, the crowd giggled and ‘ouuu’ed. jimmy rubbed his hands together, getting excited at the upcoming topic of discussion.

“so, your romance on season one was steamy” you thought back to the scenes you did together. all of the kissing, which felt normal at this point. he wasn’t a bad kisser, in fact- you didn’t mind it at all. your romance through the season built up to a sex scene, your mind flashed through the memories of filming it.

filming those scenes isnt half as steamy as you think it is. it’s awkward, you laugh a lot. you had never felt that exposed in your life! however watching it was different, it looked so real, so perfect.

you blurred out your thoughts, mr. fallon still speaking on the subject. “can we expect more -“ jimmy searched for your ship name, it was on the tip of his tongue. the combination of your first names on the show didn’t make an attractive combo. it was either jarker or pennings. your last names matched a little better.

“-carlow” jaeden finished for him. jimmy nodded and smiled “yes- carlow- can we expect more carlow next season?” you both looked at each other and smiled. the writers for the show already had the next four seasons laid out. you knew that carlow was a continuing relationship on the show.

“yes, you should expect more of that sort of content from us” you stated. the people in the crowd had a positive responce to this, the applause lapping until it died out once again.

“right, your characters have so much chemistry in the show. two struggling teens just trying to break even.” jaeden agreed “yes, our characters balance each other out, and being from the same background helps them associate. jennings is kind of a bad boy-as the ladies say- he’s a felon, he steels cars and sells them to counterfeit manufacturers and dealers for money. parker, y/n’s character, has a job at a diner. she shows him the light at the end of the tunnel if he chooses to go down a good path.”

“yes, parker gets jennings a job at the diner with her, and he falls for her sweet disposition even after everything she’s been through” you add.

jimmy licks his lips and pops another question: “so id imagine the chemistry in the show heightens the real life thing?” he cocked an eye brow, the group gasping at the intrusiveness.

“jaeden and i are just friends” you blurt out, your nerves working up again. it was hard, you liked jaeden ever since you had your first kiss with him.

“y-yeah” he stutters, he obviously wasn’t expecting this either “friends” jimmy shakes his head and puts his finger on his lip “recently, you both have been showing a lot of pictures of you two together on social media.”

the audience ‘awwwed’ at the photos that displayed behind you. on the screen, there were pictures of you and him that were on both of your instagrams. you two at gardens, getting food, even watching movies at each other’s houses.

“for just friends, these photos looks intimate , wouldn’t you say” a bunch of ‘yes’’s and ‘mhm’’s came from the crowd as both of your faces became red.

“we’re just best friends, honestly” jaeden laughed nervously, he fixed his hair with his hand has he always does.

“right right- can you tell me when this photo is from?” jimmy asked, the last picture flashing on the screen. it was of you both, you had just filmed your first scene together.

the first scene you filmed together was episode two, he saved you after you fell into ice cold water. it was how the characters met, and it was filmed at a cove on a windy august day.

the picture was a little blurry, but it added character. he had his arm around you, both of your hair soaked, and you share a huge towel. you remember how cold you were, your teeth chattered so rapidly. his hair was stuck to his forehead and more small pieces went up. and your lips were almost purple, half from the makeup, half because you swore that was the coldest water you had ever went in.

“that’s from when we first started filming, it was the first time we met in the show” you recited, re living the memory in your head. you remember jaeden pulling your head into his chest when the wind began blowing. you remember his thumb trying to create friction on your back to make you just a little warm.

“yes yes- you two look so adorable!” jimmy squealed, he was the most teenage-girl-grown-man you had ever met. his hand opened one of the drawers in the faux desk he sat behind, pulling out a small blue camcorder.

the camcorder.

you know how on tv shows, there is special footage? sometimes it’s just behind the scene specials but sometimes- sometimes - it’s footage the actors document when they were just having fun? yeah it was one of those camcorders.

the camcorder was brought in by the two other co hosts wyatt oleff and finn wolfhard (i know this cast is sooo original not really) they played jaedens two best friends on the show. while they weren’t filming, they’d dick around and talk about stupid stuff. you’d never seen what they filmed, but you had been featured quite a few times; their by them pranking you, or invading your personal space.

you looked over at jaeden, you watched his adam’s apple bob and a thin layer of sweat flush over his face. he bounced his leg slightly, a habit he had picked up from you.

“let’s just review our material here” jimmy teased, his tongue darting out between his teeth. the video began to play, the sound was loud; assumingely for jaeden quiet voice in the tape.

the video started with wyatts unsteady hand, him and finn were running around set, they stopped at jaeden, he was playing on his phone in his trailer.

“jaeden wesley we have come for you” finn yelled. you could see jaeden shoot up from his chair. “hey guys” he waved. they talked for around a minute, jokes and all. then finn started to giggle, wyatt zoomed in on jaedens face.

“so jaeden, how’s y/n?” he chuckled, jaeden blushed “she’s ok i guess dunno.” wyatt stopped zooming in when the only thing in frame was jaedens head. “the kiss was good hm?” wyatt asked. jaeden continued to play on his phone, he nodded. “yeah, she’s pretty cute too.”

the video cut to another segment, this was filmed after the sex scene. you knew because jaeden laid on the bed you, in the same underwear that he wore during the scene. the boys were jumping on the bed, and jaeden took the camera and talked to it.

“this is for memory and memory ONLY! h-hey y/nnn” he was talking to the camera like it was you “you’re amazing and cool” you could hear finn explode into laughter as he stole the camera back and started running “yeah! and he wants your babies and loves you so much-“ “SHUT UP FINN!!!” and jaeden chased him around.

the video was taken off the screen. your face had become close to ghostly white. it was weird, it was almost like he was dumb enough to think finn wouldn’t give jimmy this blackmail goldmine. you looked at jaeden, he hit his bottom lip until it was red, he itches his neck and laughed it off.

“yeah ok-ok jimmy, maybe i liked her back in the day” jaeden tried so hard to be casual, but jimmy hit him with a heart stopper: “but mr martell, the last clip was filmed less then a month ago!”

your mind flickered with memories and ideas of him.

your first time meeting, how good his hand felt in yours. when you wiped icecream off his chin, and him dotting icecream on to the top of your nose. the way his hair always fell perfectly above his eye brow. and SHIT how he always smelt so fucking good. how he let you fall asleep in his arms and how he never complained when you put on some stupid romcom and-

“y/n?” jimmy questioned. “huh?” you spaced, come on y/n you gotta stop doing that. “i asked how you felt about all of this.” “well, there isn’t a right word i can use.”

jaeden took this has a bad reaction, he did a small wave to the crowd and stood up to get off the stage.

you stood up, grabbed his hand, and laid one right on him. kissing him felt normal, but now that there was emotion behind it, it just felt so right.

you both stopped for air, the crowd went wild. jimmy was clapping too, you could barley hear them, your heart was pumping throughout your whole body. you swore jaeden could hear it.

after the show, you sat in your dressing room for a bit, contemplating the events of tonight, and how they were all broadcasted for your embarrassment. but it was only the beginning. only the beginning of what was to come for mr. and mrs. jaeden martell.

[royalelusts]

Could I have a request for upper demon moons with s/o gender neutral in a date in modern world ?

A/N: Here you go anon! I hope you enjoy these.

Kokushibo

I feel like he really enjoys quiet places

A day at the book store is usually you twos go to date

Just helping each other pick out books

Or finding really funny ones to make fun off

Another date you two go on regularly is to the park with your dog

Just watching you play fetch with her is enough to make Kokushibo laugh to himself

His favorite part about the walks though dont happen until the sun goes down

You two were walking hand in hand through the part

“Hey is something wrong?”

Your question caught him off guard. “Why would you say that love?”

“Well you keep checking your watch like somethings going to happen.”

Knowing you caught him he sighed leading you toward the tunnel of trees

As soon as the clock hit 9 the fairy lights in the tunnel turned on

“Oh so this is why you were in such a hurry.”

Pulling out his phone he put on a slow song and held out his hand

“May I?” “You may.”

And you two danced in the tunnel like you were the only people left on the planet

Doma

Did somebody say shopping?

He will buy you anything and everything

Oh you want that new book that your favorite author just dropped?

We’re picking it up right now

You want those shoes?

On it

Want the new video game that’s really hard to get?

Already in the bag

He absolutely loves to take you to buy clothes the most though

He pushes you out of your comfort zone in a good way

“Come on out darling. Let me see~”

“Doma I don’t know...”

“Nonsense. I bet you look amazing.”

After taking a deep breath you walked out of the changing room

“Look at yoooouuuuuu.” He squealed. “Do a turn for me won’t you.”

Rolling your eyes you complied to his wishes

“Ah you just look amazing. Yep we’re buying it.”

Yeah dates with Douma are a real confidence boost

Akaza

His dates are usually very chill

He’ll walk around town with you all day if he could

Doing whatever you wanted to do

But there is one time of year that is absolutely necessary for a date

And that my friends is fair time

You two wear matching outfits cause you’re that couple

He definitely makes it his mission to go on all the rides

Even the pirate ship

“Babe just one more time.”

You’ve had to pull him away from things more than once

You two were walking around having just got done eating when a certain clown started flying insults at your boyfriend

“Oh look at the big tough guy.” The clown teased

Of course Akaza ignored him cause he’s got self control like that😌

You two were walking away from the clown until he made a comment

“Oh I see you got a nice looking s/o with you. I would love to take them on a date.”

Yeah all self control out the window

Akaza walked straight up to the dunk booth and paid the vendor

“Come on big guy. Lemme take your lovely s/o on a date.”

Akaza smiled at the clown before hitting the target sending the other in the water

When Akaza came back you laughed

“Seems he got under your skin~”

“I can’t stand assholes like him.”

“Haha my hero.” You say giving him a kiss as a reward

Nakime

Dates with her are somewhat difficult

Don’t get her wrong, regardless of what you pick she’ll love it

But you really wish she would have some input sometimes

But that aside, stay home dates are more her style

Cuddling on the couch watching a movie, cooking together, self care nights?

The whole package

Absolutely loves when you play with her hair

Makes her soft

Lo-fi music played in the background as you typed away on your computer

Nakime, who just got out the shower, got behind you resting her head on your shoulder

“Rough day?” All she did was hum a yes

“You know what that means~” You turned around hugging her tightly

“Self care night!” She let out a soft chuckle at your antics

Hantengu

Like Kokushibo, his ideal date would be someplace quiet

But with less people

So he always has weird places to take you

There was this bookstore in this part of town very little people knew about

Or rooftop cafe that served your drinks in the strangest cups

Your favorite thing is when he find small events to take you to

“Sweetheart...I found this new cafe. Would you like to go with me?”

“Of course I will!”

The cafe was a little bigger than the ones you usually went to but not by much

There were plants everywhere, chairs were shaped like teacup mugs, and there were teddy bears of different sizes at each table

“Tengu this is adorable”

“It makes me happy you like it” He gave your hand a soft squeeze before deciding to head to the counter

Gyokko

He’d probably take you to an art museum

Since he himself is an artist he goes there to analyze insult the art pieces

“My art looks way better than whatever this is”

He said that about the Mona Lisa….THE MONA LISA

I actually see him to be a really respected artist in the art world

So he’s constantly being invited to art galleries

Of course he brings you along

Before you two met he went alone and got bored really quickly

None of the art truly caught his eye

But with you there?

He has the absolute time of his life

You two were staring at a painting

“...what is it supposed to be?” You asked tilting your head

“It’s fucking atrocious that’s what it is.”

You laughed at your boyfriend’s comment

The artist having overheard you two didn’t like the comments you were making

He was so fed up he went right up to your boyfriend

“You don’t know the first thing about art. How would you know what looks good?”

Already knowing where this was going you unhooked your arm from your boyfriend

“How would I know? Anyone with eyes can see that this doesn’t deserve to be here. These brush strokes aren’t even going the same way and you have the audacity to yell at me for not knowing anything about art?!”

(please know I know nothing about art so I’m sorry if I offended anyone🥲)

The artist having been embarrassed in front of everyone quickly exited the room

Gyokko wrapped his arm around your waist again smiling

“Ready to go love?”

Kaigaku

Dates with Kaigaku will either be super chill or chaotic

He once took you both to a rage room

It may or may not have ended with either of you crying

Another time he took you to paint pottery

It really depends on how he’s feeling that day

Tonight was going to be a chill night though

You two were laying on a mountain cuddled up on a blanket staring at the stars

“Babe look it’s orion.”

After a few seconds of him not saying anything you raised your brow “Babe?”

You looked over to see him staring at you

“Sorry I was just looking at the prettiest star ever”

You laughed at his horrible pickup line and pecked his forehead

“Thanks babe.”

Gyutaro

(ah the love of my life)

He’s not a guy who would take you to an extravagant restaurant or to walk around in a crowd

Unless that’s really want you want of course

Even then it would take a lot of convincing

You know that he doesn’t see himself that highly

(no baby you’re literally perfect please don’t talk down on yourself🥺)

He would much rather stay at his/your house and vibe

But if you REALLY REALLY want to go out he’ll arrange something

He has a spot he goes to that overlooks the city

It lets him forget his responsibilities for a while

Gyutaro: i’m outside get dressed

You raised your brow at the text but got dressed regardless

Outside he was waiting next to his motorcycle staring at the sky

“Sooo what’re we doing?”

“It’s a surprise. Here.”

He held out one of his hoodies and a helmet

You two drove for about 30 minutes before he stopped on a cliff

“We’re here.”

You walked up to the edge in awe

“Taro it’s….it’s amazing”

He hummed wrapping his arms around you resting his head on your shoulder

Yeah this is all he could ask for

Daki

Did someone say parties?

She 100% sees going to parties together as dates

I mean you get to see her in an amazing outfit

Who wouldn’t want to see that?

Now if this is your scene then there’s nothing to fix

If it’s not you’re going to have to explain that to her

You would probably take her to a flea market

Daki look around the building in utter disgust

“What the fuck? Why are we here?”

“Babe please just trust me.” You gave her a soft smile

Remembering this was supposed to be a 'date' she begrudgingly goes along with it

First you take her to the food section

She’s never seen food like this before so she’s a little hesitant

“...what is that?”

“It’s ox tail. Try it.” Hesitant she ate a piece and omg she absolutely loved it

You walk around some more until you get to the section with the perfume and jewelry

She’s absolutely amazed. They are so many different sizes with different colors.

“I want them all.”

“Babe no-”

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I want a movie with debunkers the heroes, not the anti-science, mystic mumbo jumbo scam artists! Yes, I have just tried to watch a Conjuring movie. And every time they go back to our “heroes” or belittle the idea of doubters I get so damn pissed off I want to throw stuff at the screen!

Look, I get fiction needs to be able to play in the impossible. I adore science fiction, fantasy, and all that in surreal and hallucinatory. But that doesn’t mean fiction has to encourage the already too common belief that skeptics, scientists, and the like are the fools for not having some sort of blind faith in the irrational!

Really, you CAN have skeptics and scientists in supernatural horror, just have them using some sort of an evidence based system to prove it exists and figure out the rules. See, that’s not so hard. You don’t have to suggest that having a brain that questions is a damn weakness!!

I get tired of the conservative, pro-faith, anti-science agenda lurking in so much fiction. The blind faith crowd already dominate, so the rest of us don’t need them to be encouraged more into mocking us for asking for a modicum of scientific proof of outrageous claims.

Yes, I am sensitive on the subject.

The rural south is not a fun place for the doubter. I grew up when my local community saw devil worshipers in everything from our annual Halloween Carnival to a Star of David someone spray painted on a sign. In fact, celebrating Halloween was all but killed in the town, and it has reached the point if I get one trick or treater it’s a good year. My parents, who had degrees in area of science, were treated as outsiders to be shunned while preachers that were actual abusive assholes were respected because they were “men of god”. I was told that people like me, atheists and agnostics, were secretly devil worshipers being nice just to trick them so we could steal their souls. They believed Ouija boards, Dungeons and Dragons, and certain kinds or rock music would bring on the demons….seriously. They believed faith was everything and doubt, questions, needing evidence, or having an imagination were flaws the devil would exploit.

These people would once upon a time have happily stoned a non-believer like me to death. They do NOT need encouragement!

I know, I know. It isn’t still the 1980s, and a micro small town isn’t the whole world. I am sure there are some very religious people out there that haven’t decided shutting off their brains is a proof of faith. I just never seem to get to see my side ever reflected except as characters that need to be “cured” of their lack of faith or figures to be ridiculed. And the religious hardly need MORE fiction to glorify them.

It’s my own fault. I should have researched enough to know that these are loosely inspired by frequently debunked hauntings and feature ultra religious protagonists. But golly, people love these movies and I am kind of out of horror classics to watch. I must jumped in. These weren’t made for me. Give me the original The Haunting or The Innocents or even the original Suspiria any day!

Also, I suppose I just have to accept that certain sorts of horror movies don’t work with me, simply because they rely on a certain level of subconscious belief I’m just not wired for. Oh, sure, jump scares, music that cues you that the big “scary” is coming, and some nice creepy cinematography can make a movie fun for even folks like me. But I am not going to find them “scary”.

It’s like The Exorcist is utterly hilarious (other than the medical scenes, thanks to my phobia) for me, yet most people find is extremely scary. I can’t help it if I don’t get why people take it so dang seriously, I mean spinning heads? It’s silly!!!!!

As for The Conjuring 2, ignoring the anti- skeptic agenda (hard to do) , it’s sooo horror by the book. Like, look at the way the camera moves. Obviously, there is gonna be a **Booga Wooga moment over the shoulder when it swings back. It would at least be startling if they wouldn’t telegraph every single scare moment with music! Yawn. Then it just got eye-rollingly hilarious

For the record I DO find some horror movies, even with stuff I don’t believe in, scary. They just have to work a bit harder, a bit more subtly. And movies with things that COULD be real, like serial killers, I avoid entirely. For instance, I will never, ever, watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The closer to what humans can do, the more frightening.

But this? Not scary, just predictable, increasingly funny…. and annoying. REALLY annoying!

** I use the word for small moments that the makers of a movie or show expect you to find very scary. I call them “Booga Wooga” because many years ago a supposedly reputable main stream news show did a thing on a “real” exorcism. What we actually saw was an obviously mentally disturbed girl being interacted with by people that clearly went in with a strong religious agenda. One of their “chilling” moments involved the supposedly possessed girl saying “Booga Wooga!” Really! Like something a four year old would say after jumping out from behind a tree. The show was a disturbing bit of exploitation of a kid by network tv, and hardly convincing proof of anything the slightest bit supernatural. All it did was make me lose all respect for that program, especially since I think it was still the era of the satanic panic so it seemed extra irresponsible. . And, of course, give me this term.

BOOGA WOOGA!! (Ohhhhh, did I scare you?)

[youranxiousnerd]

Spring Break Thoughts

bc i want to get stuck in an airport and break into first class

spoilers below

EJ DOING THE INTRO

the most...profound intro?

“maybe it’s really about other people” looks at gina

i have jumped on the portwell train

when i first saw they were doing zoom backgrounds i was not on board, but they’ve grown on me carlos’ sucks

miss jenn and the zoom backgrounds

NI NI HEL LO

nini didn’t you get cut?

you know miss jenn they could get together out side of school (at least the kids who are here)

olivia is so pretty

aww carlos called miss jenn his madrina

HA I KNEW IT OF COURSE CARLOS INVITED SEB

seblos tension, ill get to that later

they’re so passive aggressive guys i love it

ASH AND EJ

CASWELL COUSINS YESSS

“You guys are watching like, old, old movies”

“This is why we’re soulmates” the redyln goal has been reached bye

this...this is the only line they get?

miss jenn has obviously not gotten the memo

three weeks and you havent blocked act two

“not it”

of course sebby is the last one to leave

“bye” awww miss jenn

GINA THAT LITTLE GIG YESSSS

just one complement after another ej

AHHHH EJ WITH PAINTED NAILS YESSSSS

he looks so good ej should do it more often

ej fell hard guys

jack in the background doing tik toks i cant

gina and signs

RICKY IN A BLANKET

ugh its lynne

i dont care enough to spell her name right

“just being a burrito here”

bitter ricky, i feel ya

“I’m sorry to hear that’s it over” *smiles*

nini you should have just posted a video

ope empty notebook

awww ej’s insta

gina and jack

thats it

“she changed her name” nina is literally her real name 

the leg pull away

ricky and bedding is my new favorite ship besides therapy

“Your boy Jack”

when i first saw the promo for this nini scene i was worried it was gonna be another solo (shes had like 16)

I SPY WITH MY LITTLE EYE A RAINBOW HEART

my gay heart is bursting

nina really said “rainbows are awesome” this episode

and the necklace is off

guys i love improv scenes

it was so goood

soooo howie and kourt just get no closure after that killer song last week? no nothing? 

BAHAHAHA KOURTNEY BREAKING UP

i love kourtney

sofia is so pretty

okay i dont ship jack and gina but they’re fun together, little chaos demons

THE DUKE SWEATSHIRT AHHHH

“my friends, like, my castmates, they think it sucks what you did on opening night”

good talk, long overdo. nothing is solved by any means but little steps

the therapy line omfg 

“HI, CUPCAKE”

“I’ll meet you in the pool” there is an ocean right behind you

 “Don’t ask me”

“Ashlyn, Big Red, Miss. Jenn, Carlos”

the way seb’s face just DROPS when he mentions carlos

“Are you guys fighting” big red looked so happy omfg

“That would imply that we’re speaking”

“Who has time to talk when you’re busy posting selfies with random guys in a cabana”

guys i had to pause for five minutes because i was dying

jealous seb... where did you come from?

ALRIGHT IT IS TIME TO TALK ABOUT SEBLOS!!!!

first off, it seems the writers love to make major seblos things happen off screen. examples include there pinning and officially getting together

where... where did all this tension come from? it has been light the past two episodes then bam, everything they say to each other is bitter. since when is seb jealous? the writers have so many other conflicts to talk about and they choose jealous seb? off all thing?!?! im honestly kind of disappointed because there are so many other things to talk about from previous episodes and instead they choose this?!?!?! hopefully this isn’t the only thing that is addressed next week, it cant be. they better talk about the constant “no seb” because its an issue. 

moral of the story is i hope the fight next episode isn’t about seb being jealous bc there is so much more to talk about

i am loving passive aggressive seb like i hope that doesn’t go away when their conflict is resolved bc it’s awesome

HERE are my thoughts on the zoom call

okay seb’s line about doing public makes sense with the full episode

everyone on the call is just like “wtf happened to my otp”

EJJJJ

EJJJJ I LOVE YOU

THE BEST EJ SCENE 

“Hi Nini!” ejjjj

you have to watch the scene twice, one to watch nini and ashlyn and another for ej

EJ AND THE PUPPET THATS IT IM DONE

sassy gina i love her

guys i just love everybody

ASHLYN AND NINI I MISSED THIS DUO GAHHHHHH THEY’RE ADORABLE

ej is a child i love it

ricky i feel you with the songwriting

look at big red being best friend of the year now give him a plot line

i am under the impression jack recorded gina 

SHIT THE CANDLE TO LAMP TRANSITION YESSSSS

i love transitions and that was it

matt is ripped

julia lester showed up this season. queen shit 

she is perfect

YES BIG RED AND KOURTNEY DANCING I WANT MOREEEE

i am so confused with seb’s gloves

that has been bugging me for two days 

carlos has more style then a hawaiian shirt and khakis

im in heaven the harmonies are soooo good

they are amazing they sound so good

you can hear all there voices

julia popped off

aint seen nothin is really good, i wasn’t sure about it at first but its grown. they sound so damn good the talent they hold. not the best song but its fun

the video actually looks better than i thought it would

“Wow” me too richard

jack is fun, i’d be okay if he comes back. he is a little chaos demon.

i like how the writers didn’t make them romantic (for once), hopefully gina got his number bc i would

i want to be stuck at an airport with jack

“let you go” is genius. so far the best original song this season. josh has been killing it lately. this is the ballad ricky deserves. lyrical genius. he sounds sooo good.

the one time i agree with lynne

EJ YOU CAMEEEEEE

OMFG THEY’RE ADORABLE

PORTWELLLLLLL BABY WHOOOP

HE IS GONNA TREAT YOU SO GOOD GINA 

HE BROUGHT YOU FOOD AND TOOK YOUR BAG 

GAHHHHHH 

nOoOoOoOo thats it?!?! i cannot wait a week i refuse

i normally don’t talk about promos but episode 10 (im a sucker for sleepover episodes) is my most anticipated episode so we gonna do it. 

for starters ricky has a guitar, so he might sing?

AWW THE SETS THEY ARE SO PRETTY

ooo lily is back?

blueprint?

ashlyn and ricky where have you been?!?!

seb and the girls yesss

since in a heartbeat is next episode seb probably leaves? i hope it is a private moment

oh please talk about your other issues pleaseee

“why did i never hear about this?” nina no, it was an accident alright?

gina and nini haven’t interacted this season and the first thing they do is fight.

lets hope there “beef” doesn’t take the a slot 

maybe another seblos kiss?

did you know i love seblos

i have stocked up my tears for next week

[2-cute-4-school]

NCT Dream reaction : you give them a handmade gift

M.list

Genre : fluff fluff fluff

Word count : 2.5K words

Mark Lee

*sigh* my overworked baby, SM pls let him rest

he probably forgets to eat from time to time or just doesn’t time to

which breaks your poor little heart :<

so when Mark stays in the recording room until late in the night once again, you don’t go to him empty handed

you go to him with a handful of homemade cookies!!! ヽ(^◇^*)/

when you enter the studio, Mark’s slumped figure immediately straightens up, tired eyes lighting up at the sight of you

he turns in his chair and stretched out his arms to you with a puppy face and your heart :((( just :((((( melts :(((((((((( wow mark no need to kill us all with your babie culture

but who are you to say no to this angel with somewhat less appropriate thoughts but you didn’t hear this from me so you don’t hesitate to walk into his open arms

he lays his head on your stomach, nuzzling into you and cuddling up to you like a clingy koala bear as you run your fingers comfortingly through his hair, lightly massaging his head 

with the serene atmosphere you almost forgot why you came so you pulled away from Mark, your heart clenching at his whine and bring the bag with the cookies out of your backpack and thrust it in his hands

he looks from you to the bag and back with eyes so wide and innocent your brain almost short circuited at the utter cuteness

he digs into it once you prompt him to, a soft ‘woah’ coming out from him once he was hit with the sight of freshly baked cookies

“daaamn these are so good, babe” your eyes shine with pride

as he sticks one in his mouth, munching delighted at it (◠‿◠✿) , he grabs you with an arm, sitting you on his lap like a baby that you are and prodding your lips with another cookie he grabbed out of the bag

“oh no, I made these for you, I don’t-”

he doesn’t let you finish your sentence as he pushes the cookie in your mouth, watching you fondly as you start munching on it and patting your head with a gentle hand

“you’re so much cuter when you’re not nagging”

*GASP*

the Disrespect

Huang Renjun

this baby probably also showers you in his own gifts such as paintings or drawing of you sooo

it’s only proper that you also gist him something made by you (°∀°)

you work your cute ass off to perfect the most adorable Moomin key-chain you can come up with *huff* 

the day you finally deem it good enough to be shown to the top artist Huang Renjun you sweat buckets as you approach him

Renjun is busy on his iPad as you paddle over to him and stick the key-chain in his face with a dumb but proud smile “here”

Renjun turns to you with a blank face “what is this?”

●‿●

when I tell you the blood drained from your face and you died 50 times internally, your soul just left your body and you saw your life flash before your eyes ‘well life was good, time to say goodbye eyy’

you manage a loud and definitely not artificial laugh

“HAHAHA JUST AN UGLY THING I made I MEAN FOUND HAha ʰᵃ!!! Hey doesn’t it look like you in the morning?!” 

that’s when you knew you gotta bolt the scene

but Renjun of course couldn’t let your embarrassment end there the grumpy little gremlin

he snatched the keychain from you and curled his other hand around you, gluing you to his side and you froze as you looked into his sparkly wide eyes ( Renjun’s eyes are galaxies fite me )

“you made this for me?”

“uh yeah” 

warning : you were strangled to death by Renjun who deemed that a simple ‘thank you’ just couldn’t suffice, you had to die asphyxiated by his bear hug

“thank u thank u thank it’s so cute, I love it so much! I love you so much!!!”

“do you love me more than Moomin?”

warning 2 : he threw you away faster than he captured you in his deathly cute hug

“know your place, no. 2″

(¤﹏¤)

Lee Jeno

so Jeno is just a biiiiit upset at you maybe

okay maybe a bit more than just a bit

because you might or might have not broken his favorite cup which, mind you, was also a gift from you, when you were at the dorms

so now this overgrown baby gives you THE stinky eye and makes sarcastic and grumpy remarks with any chance he gets

and honesty as much as you love him, you’re ABSOLUTELY DONE with his pettiness :’)

that’s how you find yourself seated at your desk with a blank cup, acrylic watercolors and brushes spread everywhere as you squeeze every ounce of willpower to finish what you started

so after 2 mental breakdown, painted fingers and a veryyy dirty desk, you finished painting a cute design on Jeno’s new cup

you let it dry and didn’t waste another second to bring it to Jeno who still sulked at the dorms

once you were let inside, you trudged over to Jeno who was sat at the couch, refusing to get up and greet you with kisses as he usually did and slammed the cup on the coffee table in front of him

his frown turned into a confused puppy face so fast his duality amazed you once again, he lifted the cup gently, running the tips of his fingers gently over the paintings you worked so hard to complete for him

“are you still mad, nono?”

his silence was quite unnerving as you started to tire yourself out, your voice weakened by worry, but he lifted his head, looking at you with eyes so soft your heart fluttered wildly in your chest

“mad? you-you did this for me and you think I’m mad?”

he put the cup down much gentler than you and stood up from his seat, engulfing you in his arms, one of his hands squeezing you impossibly close to him and the other one cradling your head to his chest

“I think I just fell in love with you once again”

“if you fall in love just from a painted cup I should be more careful when I leave you alone”

he chuckled at your witty remark, kissing the side of his neck

once you broke apart, he placed his new favorite cup on the highest shelf and turned to you with a shit-eating grin

“i’ll put this here so maybe you won’t break this one too”

“sleep with an eye open tonight, lee” (☉‿☉✿)

Lee Donghyuck

so another overworked baby of mine bless his soul

his schedule is so packed so even though he’d cuddle with you until the end of times you actually didn’t get to do that as often as you’d like

and we all know how whiny lil cutie baby Haechanie can get when he doesn’t get what he wants :’))))

and since unfortunately you can’t be beside him all of the time like he wants you to, you decide the next best thing : you knit him a scarf !! you even stuck a tag made out of a soft material with a drawing of a smiley sun to one end of the scarf

he looks so shocked when you skip into his room and lovingly strangle him with the scarf

and you swear you could see his eyes glisten when you tell him you made it yourself and he remembers the bandaids that seemed to grow in number every day which you always shrugged of when he asked

although the tears may be from the lack of air  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

n e way, he looks so thankful as he wordlessly cradles your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and taking the time to litter kisses over every single one of your small injuries, whispering a soft ‘i love you’ at the end

you swear your heart runs leaps through your rib cage

he just loves you so so much and would appreciate anything you give him 

you bring his face back up and press a huge *smooch* on his lips and you both giggle in between your kisses

why so cute you lovebirds?!?

he brings the scarf everywhere he goes, to the dorms, to every show, concert, whenever he travels somewhere, no matter the season

it becomes his lucky charm

once, Renjun sends you a picture of your Hyuckie sleeping cuddled up to the scarf, his nose nuzzled into it

“you know I won’t let him forget about this. EVER” you smirk at Renjun’s text, typing back a reply

“pls do” ( ಠ◡ಠ )

Na Jaemin

this sweet boi hold close to his heart anything you give him

so there’s literally no reason to stress over the bracelet you decided to craft for him

but you being you of course you want to rip your hair out every time something doesn’t go your way ah the levels of patience are definitely soaring through the roof

you even swallowed your pride and asked Jeno for help (read as used him as a puppet) so you were sure you’d get the right size

so after doubting the colors, patterns, material, your entire life choices, you asked Jaemin to close his eyes the next time you met up

with extra shaky fingers, you wrapped the bracelet around his wrist and fumbled to tie it properly

“I’m not getting any younger over here, y/n”

“shut up, mommy jaemie”

he managed to slap the back of your head even with his eyes closed (>‘o’)>

so when you finally tied a sturdy knot with your chicken fingers, you let him open his eyes and beach let me tell you the way his entire face broke into a smile at the sight of the pretty bracelet around your wrist

the sun seemed to pale in comparison with his precious smile, jaemin lights up the world no question, there’s no way you can convince me otherwise

“oh my God, my baby spent time making me such a pretty gift, I must have saved a country in my previous life, come here, let me smooch you into next week (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ “

so that’s how you ended up trapped in Jaemin’s embrace FOREVER

he kept on complimenting you the entire day and made it his mission to boast to every member he could get is hands on about his pretty gift made by his even prettier baby, he’s such a sucker for you no joke whipped culture right here m’am

“Jaemin, the the threads are getting dirty, don’t you think it’s time to take it off-?”

“I’ll die wearing this ʘ‿ʘ“

Zhong Chenle

among all of his ultra expensive things he has, he is dead sure that you’re the most precious in his life

he often told you he’d give up every penny in his bank and all his fame as long as he got to keep you by his side

he regarded you as a ray of warm light when the world left him cold and he swore he’d fight off anything and anyone who dared to hurt you

so this is how he found himself a bit confused and extremely guilty over how he is supposed to fight himself, watch and learn baby

he never meant to upset you, especially over something you poured your blood, sweat and tears into perfecting it just for him

sure, you were aware the Chinese patters you sewed carefully into a pristine white material weren’t perfect, but the way he laughed in you face once you offered it to him toppled your negative emotions over

he wasn’t aware that you sewed it yourself when he made fun of it

“jeez, where did you get this from, Y/N, the clownery fair? even though you should report them for to costumer protection for its ugliness”

“maybe I should report you for being a bitchy prick” ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

you glare at him and storm away, slamming the door

chenle, the most oblivious and babiest boyfriend : (Θ︹Θ)ს well shit

but of course you couldn’t stay mad at him for long when he sweet talked his way back into your good side basically every minute of the day after finding out from Renjun (this angry angel helped you bless his soul) how hard you worked to sew that

so even though you’re still sulking a lil bit

you accept to come over at his house and as soon as you enter his room you’re shook

where one of his posters once hung above his bed now stood your sewing project proudly

you stared in awe like （’◎’）

“but I though you said it’s ugly”

“that’s before I knew it’s made by you. Anything you did is directly promoted to gorgeous, admirable, incomparable-”

ヾ(＠⌒▽⌒＠)ﾉ

3 weeks later while cuddling 

you : *GASP* “I’m so sorry for calling you a bitchy prick, baby”

Park Jisung

he is a giant as much as he is a baby and you agree with me even if you don’t 

babies are fascinated by almost anything, especially colorful things

which means Jisung is also fascinated by colorful things ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

so when you met and you pulled out a few origami figures of different, lively colors, Jisung : (✪㉨✪)

“woah, how did you do these?”

“they’re like basic origami figurines”

if he wasn’t amazed enough already

when you picked up a purple frog and pressed on its bottom and it jumped, Jisung jumped up with it

“WOAH, how did you do THAT?”

you didn’t have the heart to break his innocent awe and tell him it didn’t take longer than 5 minutes to make that frog

so you just settled for a shrug and a simple

“magic, Jisung, magic”

at that, he straightens up in his seat, his awestruck expression fading into a serious one as he grips your shoulders tightly （´＿｀）

“you’ve been lying to me, haven’t you?” ~(｡☉︵ ಠ@)>

“what do you mean, sungie?”

“you’re a wizard!!!!!!!!!”

*facepalm* *internal sigh* *whale noises because cuteness levels are just too high* 

“uh, yeah sure, baby, whatever floats your boat”

you try to turn away to hide your growing smile, but jisung isn’t having it

“no, you can’t leave me like this!! teach me!!!1!”

he grips your sleeve and looks at you with such wide innocent eyes as if you’re another wonder of the world and you swear you melt on the spot

“well, you know, my services aren’t free” (¬‿¬)

“what do you want?”

“kisses?” ( jisung shutting down )

“k-kisses? kisses??!? i mean *clears throat and buffs up* yeah sure, that’s all? i can do kisses” ( this baby blushed after only mentioning it but okay boss baby go off I guess ) (*~▽~)

he could’t even be disappointed when he found out origami was nowhere near to magic when you spoiled him with kithes all evening *cue a red Jisungie*