#yes I haven't posted everything yet lol

[ayuamarca25]

gorgeous

[cheeseceli]

SKZ arguing over the bill

Pairing: ot8!skz × gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff

Request: yes!

Warning: mentions of food, reader never pays lmao. Changbin, Chan, Seungmin's were heavily inspired by "Telling your Stray Kids boyfriend you can’t afford to eat out with them" by @ronnierites . If you don't allow this pls lemme know and I'll delete this post. Not proofread

A/n: that's kinda a new format, hope you guys like it! And this have been on my to do list since forever lol sorry for the wait

Bang Chan

Doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable

But he wants to spoil you so badly

Would let you pay if you were uncomfortable but he wants to make sure you get it he would love to pay for you as well

"You know Chris, I can pay for it."

"I know."

"So?"

"I'd rather do it. But thank you baby."

"But-" you stopped talking once you saw his card swiping. You truly should be used at this point "oh."

"Why do I feel like you're unhappy?"

"It's not that I am not happy, it's just that you always pay."

"It's my pleasure."

"But I don't know, I don't want you to think you're being pressured or something like that."

"Babe, I don't feel like that at all. Don't you worry. You're always doing so much for me, that's just a little 'thank you' of mine."

You gave him a little smile and proceeded to hug him, feeling safe in his warmth.

"I'm so lucky to have you."

"I should be the one saying it."

Lee Know

Bro you don't even spare a chance

He's paying before you even have a chance to take your wallet out of your pocket

I'm surprised you even try tbh

"Should we ask for the bill?"

"Oh, I already paid for it, don't worry."

You looked dumbfounded at him while he was finishing his food. You didn't see him talk to a waiter and you're sure he didn't pay for it before you two had your meal.

"What? When?"

"When we were asking for the dishes. Didn't you see it?"

"No?" you tried to recall the moment with no success "Why would you pay? I feel bad that you pay for everything all the time. I don't feel like reciprocating enough."

His eyes soften and a little smile comes to his lips while he watches you pout. If only you knew how much you did for him.

"Hey, look at me. It's okay. You already reciprocate with everything you do. That's already perfect"

Changbin

He pays with the money, you pay back with kisses

Sorry but that's his boyfriend duty

He is physically incapable of not paying for everything

"Hey baby. I'm off work in 40 minutes. I'll pick you up so we can have lunch, okay?"

You were glad that for once you were on a voice call with him instead of being in a face time like you'd usually do. This way he didn't see the way your smile dropped so quickly.

"Um, I don't think I'll be able to."

"Oh? Why?"

"I'm kinda... broke right now. I haven't received my last payment yet."

"Okay? What does that have to do with anything?"

"I don't want you to be the one who always pays for our things. I should be able to pay sometimes."

"You don't need to. That's my boyfriend duty. You know I don't mind, I actually enjoy it quite a lot."

"Still bothers me though. I'd hate to not contribute at all."

"You can always cuddle with me and shower me with kisses. That will make me happier than anything money can buy."

Hyunjin

Stop he'll be like genuinely so sad if he can't pay

He would let you pay if you were really insistent

But then he'll go like :( and you would let him take the bill out of pity lmao

"Hyunjin, stop looking at me like that."

"But darling, I can pay. You know it doesn't bother me."

"Just this once, let me pay, okay?"

"Okay"

"...Jinnie I really need you to stop that."

"I'm not even doing anything."

"Oh God" you sigh and let your head fall, knowing the man beside you won the argument once more "Fine. You can pay."

He didn't waste a second, swiping his card as fast as possible just so you couldn't have the time to change your mind. After he payed the meal, he took your hand in his and started to walk in the direction of the restaurant's exit with a triumphant (and really sweet) smile.

"I swear I don't get why you like to pay so much."

"My love should be treated as royalty, and that includes me paying for everything you wish for."

Han

Bro is offended

Believes with all his heart that he should be the one paying

Tries to distract you when the time to pay comes

"Were you paying while I was in the restroom?"

"... perhaps."

"Han."

"Baby. You know I like to pay for you."

"But you do that all the time."

"It's my way of showing love! If you ask me, I actually don't think it's enough. It's the least I can do."

He could see in your eyes that you weren't convinced. Unfortunately (for you), he only saw that as an opportunity to spend even more money. Maybe then you would believe him.

"C'mon, lemme show you a little bit of love. You can pay me back with thousands of kisses if that's what's bothering you."

Felix

He loves to pay.

If he could, he would pay for absolutely everything that you could ever want or need.

But if that's something which really bothers you, he will let you pay as well

Tries to do that "the one who invites is the one who pays" thing and fails

"Felix. Don't even dare."

He looked at you confused until he realised you were staring at the credit card in his hand, probably hoping that it could disappear before the waiter came back with the bill.

"C'mon, it's just a small lunch. I can pay for it."

"No. I invited you. I pay."

"Actually, if you think about it, I'm the one who suggested this place."

"Two years ago."

"Still counts."

"Not as an invitation though. I'm the one who asked if you wanted to come here."

Felix sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to convince you of otherwise. If only he could.

"Okay. Next time it's on me."

Seungmin

LMAO sorry you're 100% not paying

Don't even try

Boyfriend duty pt 2 except he is even more dedicated somehow

"Why did you bring your wallet?"

"I wanted to pay for this one."

"... why?"

"You always pay for everything."

"And I don't plan on stopping so you can take your wallet away."

"Minnie, please. I don't want you to be the one who always end up paying for everything."

"But I want to. I wouldn't mind paying for every single thing for the rest of our lives. So you can't take your money away of my sight because I'm paying."

"For the rest of our lives huh?"

"Don't tease." But you didn't miss how the corners of his lips lifted once he thought you weren't looking anymore.

I.N

Rock, paper, scissors. The winner is the one who pays

It's funny and neither of you can complain about the outcome of it because it's technically fair

Except you always throw scissors first and never noticed it

And Jeongin doesn't have the heart to tell you

"We should change this game."

"No way" he said while giving the money to the cashier whilst trying to hide his grin from you "Not my fault you are horrible at this."

"Seriously though, I think you're cheating. It's impossible for you to win every single time."

"How does one cheat at 'rock, paper, scissors'? Besides, you won yesterday."

"After losing at least 50 times. And I got to pay for some ice cream. It's not the same as paying for a whole meal."

"Get better at this and maybe you get to pay for a whole meal one day. C'mon, we can have some milkshake now. Maybe you'll win this time."

You had a feeling you wouldn't though. He was sure you wouldn't.

Reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[somelazyassartist]

Pspspspsps come listen to music and be emotional about a guy you don't know. Mr blorbo from my DnD game <3

what r u cosplaying as?

Ah, sorry I didn't see this sooner!! I'm cosplaying as one of the NPCs from The Infinite Dungeon (a DnD game my friends and I played)! I might have to dye it again bc I'm not sure the kind I got is a strong enough color but I won't know for sure for at least another hour, the dye's still setting right now lol

He's had a couple iterations bc the game's been run multiple times with different players and it's ended differently every time so far, but if you've seen me post about my OC Hallows you might have seen him included in some artwork before bc he's from the 2nd campaign she was in :] he's a sweet silly little author who's kinda sad all the time and the world likes to keep kicking him while he's down and also we've kinda murdered him before but it was okay he's our friend now <3 have some assorted doodles of him I don't think I ever posted on here lmao

(oh also I got permission to cosplay my friend's OC I promise it's cool lmao 👍)

[kanmom51]

WHO JM

This is going to be a bit of a ramble of thoughts on my part. It took me around 24 hrs. to take it all in.

Before I start talking about everything, I do want to thank my good friends, you know who you are, with which we had these discussions and back and forth trying to figure it out. Said it once and will say it again: Love you guys!!!

And on that note, let's get to it.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything we got with Who, not to mention the whole Muse concept, the configuration of the album, the order of the songs.

Unlike Face this is less of a autobiographical album. This is more about a concept. We have the connecting thread from Face to Muse through Rebirth (Oh, I'm gonna talk about that song for sure). Then we go into Interlude: Showtime, leading into SGMB and then Slow dance, Be mine, Who and Closer than this in that order. Interlude showtime being the switch from personal (ME) to showtime/performance (US) perhaps. A show themed around love. And an interesting thing happens when you look at the placement of the songs. First of all, Who, the only song JM isn't credited for writing, is last. Then, and this to me is the interesting part of it, the songs go from SGMB having that love, being sure of it, wanting even to help others find it as the first song you hear all the way back to searching for that unattainable love (Who). Starting the story from the end, when love is found, rather than from the beginning when love is being searched for. Starting from the happy ending. And if you do want to link it to his own story (not sure it is, but for funsies) then it's basically going back chronologically. SGMB is the now JM, the happy one who found love, while Who is the JM who didn't even know what he was looking for, or more so Who he was looking for. And if we are already going in that direction than basically going full circle with Face in the sense of Face being in chronological order of things and Muse mirroring it in the sense of going present to past rather than past to present (yes, I definitley did not major in arts and it shows, lol).

Let's talk about Who now.

First thing first, once again, and thank you for that amazing post, I'm going to link to @andy-wm's post right here. Because basically it says most of what I wanted to convey, and as usual, written so so well.

You would think this is all about a guy looking for a girl, right?

NOT.

More so a guy looking for love, thinking that it's in a girl's image. "HER". @andy-wm explained it beautifully. I am going to emphasise a couple of points and/or add to them.

No. It's not just you. Although I do admit, it took me several reads and re-reads to have that eureka moment. When you take in the full picture. It's there.

JM is looking for someone. In his head he thinks it's meant to be a girl. That's what society has told him. That's what is expected of him. That's what makes sense to him. Again, in his head.

And yet, his heart, it's still searching.

And he continues to search but he isn't finding 'her'.

First the use of "think" again. The mind thinking versus the heart finding.

And pay attention to the lyrics: "If every day I think about her..."

Not "Every day I think about her..."

The way I see it, this is again about challenging society's expectations of him. If he's doing it right, if he's thinking about finding 'her' every day of his life, then why hasn't he found her? And the emphasis is on the question why, repeated multiple times.

He's asking why not how. And why do I think that means something?

Think about it for a second.

If he's looking for her every day, thinking about her all the time, wouldn't the question be "how is it that I haven't I found her?" But by asking "why haven't I found her", it feels more so like "am I doing something wrong here? Why isn't this working?" Perhaps because the Who he's looking for, the Who his heart is looking for, is not a "her"?

And this kind of disconnect between what his mind thinks he is looking for - "her", and what his heart is looking for "who", continues throughout the song.

Another thing I noticed, and I don't know if it means anything, is the repeat of the number five in the song.

That second one hit me the first time I heard the song. Why? Why count to five? So random. And yes, I know it could mean absolutely nothing, and yet, it is curious why we get these two fives.

So I went looking what the number five could mean, cause we know numbers do mean something to them.

On my search I found this:

And this is about this piece of art:

The name of that piece of that famous piece of art: "Sun, Moon and Five Peaks".

And this:

The sun and moon are incarnations of yin and yang and symbols of brightness. The five peaks represent the center of the Earth and correspond to the sky and the seat of the king, who is the Son of Heaven. The number five is significant, as it is the midpoint of the decimal system.

Another coincidence?

Then there is what the number 5 symbolises spiritually (not specific to Korean culture):

Was this on purpose? This is one of those things I really don't know. And yet...

But again, we have to remember that this is the only song on JM's album that he isn't credited for being part of the lyrics writing.

And yet, we know that he did sit with John Belian telling him what the story was he wanted him to tell.

We don't know just how much of it is JM and what he wanted to convey, at least with the lyrics. We don't know just how much say JM had in the direction the MV went in, but it does feel like at least some of these things we are seeing are not pure coincidence and are intentional, for example the next thing I want to talk about.

Let's talk about the falling billboard screen for a sec.

The timing of it falling, the WHO without the question mark, the why...

JM is singing, dancing, the storm is brewing, wind blowing, he sings about "her" and then asks: "who is my heart waiting for?"

The dancers split up, and he starts walking towards us and this falls from the sky:

"Who is my heart waiting for?"

It has a blue frame that breaks apart (perhaps symbolising how this love is framed differently or that the barrier that was there between them now broke - yes, pure drivel on my part, but let me have this, I'm really enjoying it, lol).

This is who, is what the screen is screaming out!!!

"keep going" it tells him, as he's walking in it's direction.

But the screen, it's facing us. We can see it, but he can't see it yet.

He is walking in it's direction but still oblivious to what it's showing him.

Another thing I noticed there is that the screen falls from the sky but doesn't collapse or break or topple over. It stands there, strong and stable. Just as strong and stable that love is. The Real love he talks about in Rebirth. And then we cut to the next scene. We don't see what happens when JM comes closer in. Does he see it? Does he see Who?

Thank you @theendiswherewestarted  for sending me the next couple of links I want to address.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 🌞La_93🌜 (@jikook_la93)

This one I noticed myself - the colours of that fire stood out to me, seeing as they were different from other fires on screen.

The Yellow purple that we also got in the poster question mark.

The way the signs are basically around him (the fire, the screen), but he passed them by unnoticed, perhaps because of how he perceives his love is meant to look like. It's a she, not a he, and even if it is on fire or on a neon sign, something he should be noticing, he just doesn't.

The second is this:

I have seen some that noticed this and I admit, it took me a very long time to see the face (some saw a face in smoke in the teaser as well), but I have to admit, it does look like a face. Could it be JK? Idk. Is this intentional? Well, it doesn't look like the actual smoke, it does look like a projection or add-on, so... I guess this one I'm going to leave as a question mark. A possibility.

But this one, I'm feeling the need to go back to this one because this is just WOW...

I am aware there are those that claim it to be another member. All I will say that they are wrong.

Also want to thank @lastride1981 for your ask.

And then the MV ends with this:

You know, if we didn't get the message just yet (which I can assure you many didn't), then let's end it with rainbows. Yes, that is who your heart is waiting for!!!

Nothing JM does is not thought about, is not intentional.

And that rainbow at the end is again one more of those things!!

As I said, not everything is intentional. But a. saying not everything is intentional inherently means some of it is. and b. this is JM we are talking of. The master of layering his art.

This is art. Intended for us to ponder about. It's up for interpretation. Even a song with rather simple lyrics like Who, especially with a MV attached to it and JM being the artist behind the two.

So this here is how I see it. My interpretations. Sharing them with you.

[kaiju-krew]

So I know this is like, a month late (forgot to ask when you posted the pic lol), but what's up with Labra? He got like a backstory, lore, or something like that? I'm curious and wanna know more abt him.

drew him again :3c

UHMMM yes i am lore building for him........ i haven't decided everything yet but i know i want him to be a distant cousin species of goji's. everyone's fangoji lore is different but i def imagine him as a part of my personal monsterverse au rather than existing in his own world with no friends haha loser

putting a cut here so i dont spam people's feeds lmao

likeeee for comparison it's probably similar to Crocodylia encompassing crocodiles, alligators, and gharials?? labra is in a similar niche to zilla for me. goji is the largest/apex species of the gojiran order, whereas zilla & labra are smaller and occupy a different niche. Big bruiser lion vs. carcal or lynx type thing.

my hc is that the vast majority of labra's species (pre-mutation art is what they looked like) was wiped out when ghido got into hollow earth. which is also the same time he wiped out most of the divine moths and a couple other species :''(

it ended with ghido iced but it fucked up the hollow earth ecosystem for a while and led to a lot more radiation leakage since he tore the place up real bad. labra was Almost Dead and ended up hibernating to recover by a radiation vent, but he'd laid down in feldspar vein that kinda grew to cover him and turned to labradorite and idk magic radiation nonsense it fused with him and caused him to grow/mutate.

the ghido massacre also caused battra to hibernate/mutate too so it's a Big Event in my silly au world. most of the kaiju that are clearly a result of mutation fuckery (biollante, kessho too) may be related to it as well but i haven't fully fleshed it out yet. it would mostly be based around goji's hyper-regeneration doing the thing where like.. if a big enough chunk of him gets lobbed off and has access to energy it mutates and tries to regenerate and causes a fucked up clone siblings thing idk omg ok i'm in tangent city good god sorry i was supposed to be talking about my gay son

ANYWAYSSSSSS for more general hc/character stuff: >labra is genuinely terrified of ghido and even gets freaked out when he hears wing beats without warning. (mosu beats rodan's ass bcuz he divebombs labra for fun sometimes) >he lives on monster island and ventures down to hollow earth sometimes, but he won't return to his old home because it just reminds him everyone else of his species is gone. (he isn't even his own species anymore bcuz of the mutation. so they're basically extinct.) >he loves swimming and sometimes just lays in the shallows to absorb sunlight. stretches out like a lazy ass cat. cat boy behaviour >he's loyal to goji and doesn't start shit with humans unless they attack first. even then he does his best to steer clear. >mothra likes his dorsal plates and talks with him sometimes (Moth Therapy) they can bond over ghido hating it's a good time >he has a mutually bitch-bother dynamic with rodan where rodan bothers the shit outta him until he manages to grab that turkey and idk sits on him or something. but if rodan really pisses him off he doesn't mind actually throwing hands because he knows goji won't care if he puts the bird in it's place. >he also likes angy, zilla, and bio a lot too.

there's more but i'll stop there for nowwwww

tldr: big gay lizard is traumatized but doing ok ig

[dixons-sunshine]

Saw your birthday post and I’m here to say dad!daryl especially during pregnancy would be act like a caveman. You’re growing his child? He’s hunting for a mounting of food (more specifically animals especially deer) and presenting them to you like he’s at an altar. You want something. He’s already got it. Craving something that’s lots to the old world? Don’t worry he’ll do his best and if not he’ll find a suitable replacement. Dad!daryl would do anything for you already, and now you’re with his child… you really get to see how far he’d go.

Let’s not mention if you were ever in a position where he thinks you’d be in danger because he’s animalistic ensuring that you and his baby are okay.

Thank you for listening to my ted talk

Also happy early birthday!!

No because I think about this on a daily basis. You'd think I'm lying but I'm not. The amount of times I think of Daryl as a dad should be illegal lol. My own thoughts under the cut. (Sorry this isn't a proper fic. I didn't know how to write this in a way that would be in a way you deserve, but I loved this so much and didn't want this to go to waste, so I'm doing this. Hope it's okay!)

Basically everything you said is so freaking true. As far as I'm aware, aka on what I've seen in movies and what my mom has told me, the correct meat is an essential part to a pregnant woman's diet. Oh, boy, once you're pregnant and the doctor says that you need protein? You be rest assured that Daryl is not resting until he finds you the best goddamn venison he can. No rabbit or squirrel meat for the love of his life and his unborn baby. Y'all deserve only the best. He'd even fight tooth and nail if he could only find a small deer and there wouldn't be enough venison for everyone in the community and everyone wanted some. You needed it more than they did, and he'd hold someone at gunpoint if he needed to.

I've also wondered a lot about Daryl finding whatever you're craving. A few nights ago, I was really craving chips (fries) but I couldn't go buy any, so I had to make my own. While making it (at 3am if I may add) I thought about Daryl making you what you're craving during your pregnancy. If he can't find what you're craving outside the walls, he's gonna try his damn best to make it. Fries? He's picking potatoes out of the community's garden to make you that. You want a sandwich? He's gonna make you a sandwich. You want some crisps (chips)? He can't make it, but he's not gonna rest until he finds you some. It may be stale, but he doesn't care. Anything for you.

I've seen a couple of videos where the guy stands behind his pregnant partner and raises their belly to relieve some pressure. Daryl would do that! I read it in my favourite dad!Daryl series (Blood Ties by @celtic-crossbow. If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend it!) and I was like “yes, he would totally do that!” Anything that would help make you even the slightest bit more comfortable, he'd do it. Also, I feel like it would bring a sense of comfort to him when he does that. It'd make him feel more connected with his baby before they're born, y'know?

Don't even get me started on Daryl being extremely overprotective of you. He doesn't want you to be in any sort of danger in general, but the need to keep you safe when you're carrying his baby increases by a tenfold. Your escapades beyond the walls are put on a hold for the foreseeable future. Anything you need beyond the walls, he'll get it for you. And if you don't want him to leave you, he'll get someone else to do it for him. He wouldn't ever let you willingly put yourself in danger, and if you ever were in danger, the people responsible for it would pay dearly.

I have a lot of thoughts on this but my brain isn't working with me right now. Thank you so much for sending this in! I really loved this so much.

[wincore]

indelicate | liu yangyang

pairing: yangyang x fem!reader

synopsis: missing the last train out of new shanghai was not on the to-do list. however, your project partner liu yangyang promises fun, dazzling lights, and the warmth of a human connection for this festive weekend. perhaps even in the era of diamond and steel, the human touch means something after all.

genre: oriental cyberpunk, f2l, fluff

warning(s): swearing & several innuendos. also out-of-date jokes sorry guys i wrote this in 2021

words: 11.9k

a/n: this is just a rework of an old fic i posted here with another character! if you find any inconsistencies, it's probably because of that LOL also this is not a wincore revival but i did miss everyone on here !!

i. city plaza

Some idiot, somewhere along in history, decided to renovate a city into something so dazzling that the population shoots up to a hundred and fifty percent of what was before, and the rest of the damage comes along with the people. Promises are made and broken to build this city of extravagance. You have the belief that the more people there are in one place, the more difficult it gets to live there. This dazzling hellscape means colliding into too many people on the streets, too many bright lights outside your dorm room when you’re trying to sleep and the god awful sound of deafening firecrackers at every new year celebration.

Another idiot somehow roped you into his ‘midnight adventure: traditional version’ once he heard you missed the last train ticket out of the city. Liu Yangyang has a terrible way with words—but he has a way.

You were, by some unfortunate gamble of the gods, partners for a project that accounted for sixty percent of the grade. While that affair is over, you still haven't rid yourself of the predicament that is Yangyang. Gorgeous, yes, but too overwhelming. You smack your head against the car window only for him to jump in his seat beside you, hand gently driving over your forehead to check for damage. The neon city lays around you, and festive light projections float across the sky in intricate shapes of the ox and written messages. This is going nowhere. You came to this city sacrificing everything and yet suddenly, everything’s hanging on a string again.

The city lights of New Shanghai are cruel. Everything in this place is cruel.

Which is exactly why you’re in Yangyang’s car, parked by the middle level city plaza on New Year’s Eve. It is, in fact, illegal to hover by the city plaza on New Year’s Eve but Yangyang seems to either not care or simply doesn’t know. You forget the law doesn’t exist for rich kids. Out of all man-made wonders, rules are the most interesting. 

“Shall we go?” he asks, voice bubbly as ever. Every morning, he chirps like the alarm birds outside your window. Yes, it has made you want to sleep forever at times.

“It’s just one night. And I’ll be with you, so you don’t have to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” you snap. 

“Not afraid of the dark either?”

You pull your jacket closer to you. Here, the cold streets of the techno-jungle make you shiver more often than not. If you dare go out without friends, a city so grand will inevitably drain the life out of you. Your body alone cannot withstand the dazzle. And—you can’t be afraid of the dark after you’ve complained about the lights.

You look at Yangyang and back to the cityscape outside—large conglomerative blocks of buildings, some hosting advertisements with the faces of inhumanly beautiful models and some with the ‘Happy New Year!’ text animation floating about in increasingly complex patterns. You see the revolving top of one of the grandest skyscrapers, a Dior hotel, not the tallest but certainly the most pleasing to look at. It gleams from red to orange like the pulsating heart of a giant metropolitan beast. There are more funky buildings to look at, some not even the shape of austere corporate skyscrapers.

“Do you wanna go there?” Yangyang asks all of a sudden. “I heard the lounge is closed off from eleven. I can call some friends and we can book a room though—”

“No. No way. I’m not going to spend new year’s eve in a Dior suite.”

He grins. “Thank god. It’s so boring there. Only models and businessmen and whatever freak shit they do.”

You sigh. Liu Yangyang is a whole story in itself. He’s rich and popular—a dream of many—but so few are as welcoming as he is. When you’re in that position, you’re bound to have a little metal seep into your heart. Some hidden part of you, however, tells you to loosen up when you’re with him; just let it go and have a good time. There’s no reason why you shouldn't. The economy is on a steep incline, the people are happy and no other city compares to this place. You could learn a thing or two from Yangyang.

He looks at you questioningly, eyes waiting and the curve of his lips still. You notice his platinum blond hair is more styled than usual, you can almost smell the gel on it, and for a moment, you wish you looked as good as he does. A dark leather jacket accentuates his shoulders, the plain T-shirt underneath not of the flashy type. He looks like he’s ready for club-hopping and you, anything but. If you knew earlier that you’d be by the Strip around midnight on New Year’s, you'd have dressed better. 

“If you stay any longer in my car, people are going to assume we’re…y’know,” he states, quirking his eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal, though. Like, who thought fu—”

You were wrong. There is absolutely nothing to learn from Liu Yangyang. 

“I would get out of this car immediately and fall to my death before I let that happen,” you retort, crossing your arms.

“No, hey. What an inauspicious sentence. Besides, and I’m not bragging but you should know I’m really good at using my assets—”

“Don’t say a word.”

The heat of embarrassment flows into your cheeks at his implication. You look out the window, weighing out the pros and cons. The scenery is so bright that sometimes it hurts to look outside. It’s not midnight yet but the main streets are already getting crowded for the processions; the sound of laughter and conversation ring in the air. It makes you somewhat sad to not be home for this. But as they say, living in a big city can only be done if you sell your soul to it.

You’re directly above the level one city plaza, the people below looking unsettling in the way they’re so small and far away—they don’t even seem human at this distance. You wonder if you look like that to the people above this, to the level three elites who sit on top of the whole city..

You look back to your companion, who’s transfixed on the bakery across the road—either that, or just really, really zoned out. Knowing Yangyang, it could be either. When you tilt your head, waiting, you find that he has pretty features—a shaped nose and round, curious eyes, all in perfect alignment with plump, pink lips. His metallic ring earrings shine when the light hits them right. No wonder you get girls asking how close the two of you are often. Even in a world pushing manufactured love, boys like him make others daydream. You wonder why you’re the one he loves to drag in with him.

Yangyang flinches when he finds you staring at him. You clear your throat, looking away and hoping you can sweep this under the rug.

“Are you- are you by any chance mad at me?” he asks, a nervous smile awkwardly tugging at his lips.

“I- what? No. I’m not mad at you.”

“You look like my mother when I don’t clean my room. Or Ten's cats when I try to kiss them.”

A tiny laugh escapes you before you get back your poised demeanor. “I’m- I’m not mad at you.”

He smiles at you wordlessly and you feel a little conscious. You glance outside when the plaza music starts to get loud and look back at him, debating whether you should just give in.

“So… you’ll let me brighten your life now?” he asks in his regular baritone, grinning wider. “The semester’s over and it’s festival time! I bring good luck, I promise.”

Liu Yangyang is not a happy serendipity. He simply cannot be. However, he does make you laugh more often than you’d admit.

“Whatever. Go ahead. I just don’t want to be hungover on a Friday.”

“You don’t- you don’t have to drink to have a good time.” He laughs. “I would know. I’m sort of a lightweight. I don’t know why I told you that. I’m supposed to be cool.”

You giggle, taking a moment to think.

“Fine then. Show me your magical access key to our beloved Mobius Strip, the mightiest, grandest structure in all of New Shanghai.”

“Well, if you put it that way… I am pretty cool, huh?”

His smile is too harmless for you to roll your eyes. He’s too gentle, you realize all of sudden, to be as awful as all the uni frat boys you’ve had the misfortune of talking to. You watch him as he drives; his arm moves with ease and he tries to make conversation but you can only hum and respond in singular words. The closer you are to the Strip the more nervous you get. It’s like visiting all those dark places that your mother explicitly warned you not to visit as a teenager—but you’re an adult now. No one owns you. No one should be able to own you. The determination builds up slowly over neon lights and hazy street shops.

Nights here are the fun part. Everyone says that. Other than the fact that you can barely make out the colour of the sky under the vivid city lights, there’s something very enticing about the streets, the upper streets that wind around the city.

Yangyang drives the car to a level three street, the behemoth structure of the Strip now so close that all you can see beyond your window are its placid, white walls stretching out to infinity. You can see little gardens and shops, peeking out from between each strip and one of the shopkeepers wave at you the moment you pass. Yangyang says something along the lines of “thanks for the free noodles” to the woman, before gliding higher. 

“Grandma makes the best glass noodles here,” he says, excitedly. “I’ll take you sometime. If you like.”

You hum, noting the joy he expresses at the idea of something so simple. 

Level three streets are already thousand and a half feet above the ground. You try not to look down; heights aren’t something you’re very fond of even if you love the sky. You note construction work for street levels four and five, shivering at the idea. The winds of change are fucking cold.

Yangyang swerves the car off-road at one point and you clutch his arm by reflex.

“What the fuck? Don’t do that without warning me,” you say, breathing quicker. You do not do well with: sudden movement, jumpscares and boys with pretty smiles.

“Sorry,” he says, looking at you with concern. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You let go of his arm, more embarrassed at yourself than mad at him. Driving the car closer to the Strip, he brakes carefully by the parking lot. The walls are covered in red wallpaper, a few lanterns attached to drones, floating along the path inside. It looks like a rooftop parking lot, though the mysterious dim lighting makes you walk closer to Yangyang.

“I heard this is gonna be a really cool event—they’ve got the latest AI tech hosting and crap but let me tell you the best part.”

He pauses for dramatic effect. 

“The food!” He says, spreading his arms and grinning. “The food at private events is the best thing you’ll ever taste.”

You open your mouth but close it again in part horror, part confusion. “You’re… taking me to a private event?”

“Ah, don’t look like that. It’s really fun, promise.”

“I’m not even dressed for it,” you blurt, embarrassed.

Yangyang shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. It’s for rich kids, you know? If I’m being honest, none of them know how to dress.”

His confident statement gets a giggle out of you and you relax a little. You walk with him, further into the square platform and away from the cars. The sky disappears behind the dark roof and for a moment, you feel like you’ve entered a different dimension. It’s like the architecture models that your professors had on display for the Shanghai History class in your freshman year. Old stuff, that is. Before this place even had the first skyscraper.

You turn to your side and narrow your eyes at Yangyang, suddenly wondering how he finagled his way into bringing you here. Your iron-clad will is not so much iron after all. It’s not even steel, you think, once you catch yourself staring at Yangyang a bit too long.

You step forward to find the entrance to the club; it’s a little lonely to look at in the beginning. Then it clicks that it’s probably the back door. The red pillars encase a black door between them, the overhang of the gateway just a little above Yangyang’s head. You can see the hip-and-gable style roof of the larger building behind, looking like a skyscraper instead of the usual historical buildings you’ve seen on the internet. In glowing red letters, it displays a blinking ‘Club 2’ near the top of the door.

The moment you step on the stairs, a bunch of advertisements pop up on the door, bright bubblegum colours hurting your eyes. Yangyang taps at the little x at the corner of the display till it disappears and finally the door is a regular door. The colour is jet black like any other screening platform. 

“I thought the rich were exempted from ads,” you say.

“They’re… more likely to buy things though.”

You make an ‘ah’ sound in contemplation when a whirring makes you jump into him. A little spherical drone flies its way out of an opening in the wall and stops right in front of the two of you. 

“Sicheng-ge!” Yangyang says, waving frantically at the camera.

The little drone circles around Yangyang’s head before stopping right in front of his face. It runs a scan before turning sharply and beeping at you. 

“My plus one!” Yangyang declares, pulling you by the waist. “Or whatever it’s called.”

Your ears feel warm but you don’t push him off. The camera focuses on your face, likely scanning to identify your age and occupation. When it’s done, a beep resounds and the door slides open to reveal a dimly lit pathway. The main entrance is much brighter, Yangyang promises, but for now it’s just the warm glow of the lanterns, Yangyang’s neon red striped jacket and the mechanical whirring of some sort of device in the darkness.

“What’s that sound?” you whisper and Yangyang stops. 

He pauses to think. “Oh, they’re Sicheng-ge’s drones. He’s got like a million of them. I'll introduce you—he’s hosting this club event, by the way.”

He smiles at you reassuringly. If Yangyang’s not bothered by it, you’ll follow his lead. Though, you do take more nimble steps and stay close to him like he’s your lighthouse. (In a way, he is, with all that neon shining on his jacket.)

You’re surprised to find a garden, but then it gets stranger when you see brighter lanterns in the middle area. You see figures and before you can react, Yangyang takes your hand and into the central platform.

ii. orchid club square

Yangyang was right. None of them know how to dress.

The two of you stand in the middle of a crowd, who are in fact dressed either for: a) an impromptu pool party or b) a Sunday morning lecture. You blend in somewhat well given the variety though Yangyang’s painted looks have attracted the attention of quite a few giggling, murmuring onlookers.

You clench your jaw in mild annoyance. 

“This is a tour,” Yangyang whispers to you. “I thought… you’d like to know what everything’s about.”

You feel grateful to him for once. Having some sort of knowledge about what you’re getting into makes you feel better about any situation. A set of mechanical clicking fills the air.

A woman—no, an AI bot is the first to greet you. She has pale white metallic skin and her dark strands of hair are in a traditional updo. Her lips are imperial red, shaped in a way that makes her seem as though she’s smiling but also not at the very same time. She holds an extravagant fan by her face at the perfect right angle, the patterns on it painted to imitate an ancient cherry blossom tree. 

“Good evening, everyone,” she says, her voice pitched up and enthusiastic. It’s a little funny to imagine metal so lively.

You smell oranges and lavender as soon as she flicks her fan once and precise. 

“Welcome to the New Shanghai nightlife!” The bot continues jovially. “The oldest surviving city on planet earth, the birthplace of the human race.”

“You are in virtual space,” she informs. “It might look like a courtyard stretching to infinity but it is only an illusion. However, the club is five hundred and sixty one metres wide and six hundred and twelve metres long. It is large enough to hold twenty-one blue whales in a line. That is, if they still existed of course.”

She giggles algorithmically.

“Where you stand right now,” she says, turning her head in a swift mechanical motion to you and you flinch. “This place is called the orchid club square. As you know, only VIP access lets you in.”

You glance at Yangyang worriedly and he shrugs. There’s no way she could know, right? That was oddly specific. But then she moves her head left to right to address the whole crowd in perfect grace. When her movement starts to get a little too eerie to watch any longer, you fix your eyes on the garden instead. You have no way of telling part real flowers from virtual ones and even so—all of them are beautiful. Maybe reality doesn’t make things any prettier.

However, when you look at Yangyang, the thought gets tossed out. You shake your head, in an attempt to get rid of the image of his face. It’s a little too late to be feeling this way. Either that, or the night is taking its toll on you already. The day was exhausting, considering it was the end of the semester.

The AI guide’s chatter fades into something quieter when you move the club square. It’s a rather empty space, fitting for a rave or just housing large crowds. The decorations are for the new year celebrations, banners of the ox in auspicious colours and a few drones projecting the rest. There’s a garden of evermore orchids lining the area in a perfect square and it’s so precise that it’s pleasing to look at. There’s a door at one edge, similar to the one you encountered before entering the club square.

The music that wafts through the air is so gentle, you almost forget there’s a celebration. The beat makes it livelier and even so, the rhythm of your heartbeat matches it in a soothing sort of way. Turning around, you spot the musical ensemble. It’s another AI, peering over a guqin with trained habit.

She looks the same, except she wears an electronic mask over the lower half of her face. It displays a blue musical note made up of noticeable pixels. She has no fan—instead, her fingers strum the guqin rhythmically, programmed with precision and grace. The sound is accompanied by the woodwind notes of a flute, though you’re not sure where that sound emanates from. There’s also a soft drumbeat which seems to come from the guqin bot herself.

You gasp when a few painted goldfish float through the air, almost real to look at if it weren’t for the glitch effect of holograms. One of them swims closer to you, opening and closing its mouth in rhythm and you giggle at its face.

Yangyang laughs, long finger pointing at the critter in amusement. “That’s adorable.”

He looks like a little kid and you giggle at his expression, with wide, delighted eyes and mouth open in focused mirth. He pokes at the goldfish and it makes a bubbling sound, gears shifting in ticking time before suddenly biting at his index finger. Yangyang lets out a low yelp, retracting his hand before clearing his throat in embarrassment.

“You’re like a cartoon,” you tell him, in between laughs. “No way are you real.”

He grins, in that same way he always looks at you and you look away, feeling hot in the face. It’s too enamored a way to look at someone. But of course, that couldn’t be true—he’s Liu Yangyang and you’re you. Parallel lines do not meet, even if they’re headed in the same direction.

“I think you’re unreal,” he mumbles.

iii. club 2

The doors open to a rather spacious arrangement, with several tables one one side and a sort of dance arena on the other where people are trying to out-dance each other. The intensity makes you move further away from it. It seems a little too festive and you can feel the energy slinking away from you. The music is more upbeat but you suppose the DJ tried to make it sound more eastern; the result is pleasing. He wears a smooth black helmet with a neon red beat visualizer on it, with written SFX appearing from time to time. Two pulsing golden horns glow at the sides of his head. You stare at it for longer than you’d like before composing yourself. You’re very impressionable when it comes to parties. 

There are two floors to the club, above the bottom floor itself. The other two floors mostly seem to consist of private booths, however, covered with gossamer silk that glow iridescent. A few floating lanterns sway by the upper floors. The ceiling is open to a midnight blue sky and the stars look much larger than you’ve ever seen them—you suspect it’s an AR mesh over the ceiling. A few light shows project little dancing dragons and coins over the sky and you find them too cute to not stare at.

“Wow,” Yangyang says, right after walking in. “Why is Dejun on the table?”

You look where his eyes are focused on, though it’s difficult through the crowd of people, and find Dejun and Kunhang in some sort of old anime transformation pose atop one of the tables. It’s surprising that they’re not the weirdest pair here. 

“Now, bear with me, it’s going to be boring as hell till the countdown and the fireworks,” he explains, waving his hands around. “But it’s a good place to have fun and make friends. You know?”

“Friends?” you ask, a little nervous. You’re not very proficient at making friends and it makes you anxious.

“Yeah! Don’t worry. ” He makes a strange gesture, bordering between posing for a beer ad campaign and looking like a motivational speaker for the army, before furrowing his eyebrows. “You just have to be confident! I’m learning too!”

He lets out a sweet laugh and it makes you laugh in turn, hand covering your mouth so you don’t embarrass yourself too much. You don’t believe the words much, but the glow over his cheeks makes you reconsider.

“You look really nice when you laugh,” he comments, a bright glint in his eyes.

“Whatever,” you reply, punching his shoulder lightly.

Just then, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder to find Lana from your ethical AI class, smiling at you warmly. She looks a little tired, of people more than the time. Like you, she is also a scholarship student—and not a day has gone when she hasn’t soothed your anxiety about your classes. In stark contrast with Yangyang, you would trust her over him for most tasks. Even if you weren’t partners, you’re okay with the outcome. You glance at Yangyang.

“(name)! Oh my god, I didn’t know you were coming here,” she says. “Did Yangyang kidnap you?” 

“I mean, sort of.”

“Hey.” Yangyang looks at you with betrayal.

“And how did you even manage to do that cool ass project with him as your partner?” she continues, squinting at him.

“Honestly, I don’t know either. He can be surprisingly helpful though.”

Yangyang looks from Lana to you in exasperation. “I’m literally right here,” he grumbles. 

Lana laughs at his expression, patting his shoulder sympathetically. 

“I just can’t believe you let him kidnap you and not me,” she says in mock indignance. “I’m a much better chauffeur, you know?”

“Do you even have a driving license?” Yangyang asks, laughing.

“I got mine before you, rat. Anyway, (name), I’m playing the guzheng. Do you wanna come see?”

“No,” Yangyang interrupts, suddenly grabbing your hand. “I… I mean you guys can go, of course. It's just the countdown’s close, so we have to go to the viewpoint.”

“That’s exactly where—ah. I see.”

"We'll join you another time, Lana," he says quietly, a cute grin on his face like a little boy would make to an older sister for more shares of chocolate. 

"No, no. I actually remembered I left my friends in the corner. See you!"

She leaves her epiphany unsaid, offering you a smile and taking her leave abruptly.

“I thought you told me to socialize,” you complain to Yangyang. 

“Yes, I’m so proud of you for that.”

“Yangyang, I swear if you treat me like a kid—”

“I’m not, I’m not. Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “I just need to borrow you for tonight. After all, I promised you, didn’t I?”

You sigh. “Fine then, what’s this viewpoint you’re talking about?”

“Oh, we’ll get there.”

Someone’s watching you. You turn around a full three-sixty but find only the same crowd of college-age kids. No one sticks out much, apart from Dejun, Kunhang and Ten, who are at this point performing some sort of strange ritual unbeknownst to any new year tradition, with a hell load of yelling.

“Oh my god, you’re dancing too?” Yangyang says, grinning ear to ear. “I didn’t know I’d have that much of a positive influence. Wow.”

“I’m- I’m not- never mind.”

Yangyang furrows his eyebrows. “What did I tell you? More confidence! See—”

He takes your hands in his, pulling you further onto the dance floor. You feel a rising panic but swallow it. There’s a beat of silence in which the two of you look at each other. Yangyang proceeds to perform the stupidest sequence of movements you have ever seen, certainly too awkward for his body to accept as natural but it doesn’t seem like he cares. He’s having fun.

You find yourself laughing. Taking timid steps, you try to loosen up although the inevitable embarrassment arrives in flushes of heat across your face. There are stars in Yangyang’s eyes when you join him—not the artificial jewels in observatories but the real kind that you used to see in your hometown.

You take a wobbly step back. It’s starting to get disorienting. If it were the real sky above you, you might even have felt better. Perhaps the purpose is to get dizzy.

“I’m a little thirsty,” Yangyang says, motioning to the table with food and drinks at a corner. “I’ll head over and be back.”

Unsure what to do, you follow him like a lost lamb and though it would be embarrassing at any other time, any other place, now and here are not part of that.

The red and golden lights of the neon patterning the walls don’t seem as harsh anymore and you let your eyes rest on the boyish figure of Yangyang. You haven’t figured him out yet. Something tells you he’s more than a shallow image of the party-loving rich kids of Shanghai. In fact, in quiet, personal moments, he looks more out of place than you do—despite all that bright neon. You open your mouth to ask something when you’re interrupted by a dizzy Yangyang spinning into you. 

“Sorry, (name),” he says, rubbing the base of his palm against his forehead. “I genuinely thought I was going to win that game.”

You shake your head, letting him get back to whatever spinning game they were at. He smells like wine and something tells you he’s poor at holding his liquor. The stakes must be high for that game, you figure, because you see Yangyang set aside his beloved shoe on the floor. To be the only scholarship student here suddenly feels scary and awkward.

Yangyang once again tugs at your arm, the touch reassuring as though he understands how you feel. But it isn’t true. There’s no way someone like him can understand someone like you.

“Yangyang,” you call. “Do you come here every year?”

“No, no. I do come for drinks though. I’m only here right now because a friend is hosting this.”

You shrug.

“And you,” he adds and you feel a hot flush rise to your face. “New years are the only time this place is PG-13.”

“I’m not a child,” you snap.

“My mom says childish people say that.”

“Then it's very rich coming from you, Liu Yangyang.”

He laughs heartily, leaning away. A creeping thought grows in your head that you missed out on a lot. But then again, you’ll always miss out on things if you’re not rich enough for them.

Yangyang flinches suddenly, almost knocking a plate off the table. He moves quickly, turning so that his side leans against the wall and the other arm cages you between him and the wall. His frame covers your view from whatever, or whoever arrived at the entrance that made him react so obnoxiously.

However, his lips hovering just a little over yours makes your breath hitch in your throat. This is the worst possible position you could've gotten into. The smell of mint interrupts your thoughts and you look at him with as annoyed an expression as you can muster over the heat of your face.

"Yangyang, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

“I am… admiring the wall. Ooh, it’s got velvet over it, did you notice?”

 “You’re going to have your head in it too if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

"Just… sorry. Let’s stay like this for a few moments."

He flashes you an apologetic smile, his face close enough to make yours grow even hotter. A nervous chuckle erupts from his lips. 

"Oh my god, get off. People are going to think we’re making out."

"We could do it for real." 

"I'm going to scratch your eyes out."

"Sorry, sorry."

“Who are you even hiding from?”

“I’m not hiding… okay, forget that. Bodyguard-watcher-dude. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“You have a bodyguard?”

“More like a babysitter.”

You try not to laugh, considering the proximity between your faces. “How come you have a babysitter? Actually, wait, I think I know.”

He huffs over your face and you restrain yourself from landing a swift uppercut to his jaw. Now you know the minty smell comes from mouth freshener.

“He’s a prosecutor. It’s weird that he stalks me in his free time. Even- even if… my parents are paying him.”

“They think you’re doing something illegal?”

“No. I don’t think I am.”

You rest your head back against the wall, rolling your eyes. “Really? That’s your answer? God, your brain cells rotted somewhere along the way, didn’t they? It’s all those parties.”

“I’m starting to feel like my mom hired you too.”

He looks back, and noting the absence of his so-called babysitter, he pulls back from you. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath and you let it out in a shallow effort.

“Your babysitter’s gone?”

“Not a babysit—I regret saying that. Look, I really don’t think they appointed him because they think I’m doing something illegal. I have never done anything illegal. Except that one street race but that’s because Lucas told me it was perfectly legal.”

“The what?”

“Anyway, the point is, let’s look forward to good fortune for this year, hm? Leave all the burdens to last year.”

“Fortune doesn’t favour fools.”

“I’m not stupid,” he complains, spreading his arms to express it further. “Mostly.”

 You laugh, turning your attention to  the food table.

“Ooh, pineapple tarts,” he exclaims, hand reaching out to grab one when you smack it.

“You’ve had, like, fifteen already.”

“Mhm,” he says, with a few more stuffed in his mouth.

There’s a pause.

“It’s me, isn't it?” you ask quietly. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

He gulps, lips parting and closing. “I brought you here. So you don’t worry about it.”

Rich people suck. You believe that strongly. But sometimes, just sometimes, when you have everything you can ever want, you start to want the same for everyone around you. Some people are special. You find Yangyang genuinely fascinating for being someone who makes friends when he’s supposed to be making more connections. You find him fascinating. 

It makes sense for someone like him to be the way he is.

iv. fireworks viewpoint

“That’s the old Shanghai Tower,” Yangyang points to a building in the distance. “It used to be the tallest building once but… well, it looks like the little guy now.”

Lunar New Year’s celebrations are a big, big deal in New Shanghai. It means a break from university, work and every other affair to have as many priorities sorted in anticipation of the new year. And the impact is evident from this height, when you can see the city in its golden glory. It looks warm out there for once—although you’re not very sure if it’s because of the warmth that comes from right beside you. The little wooden boats float by on the river a little far off, various images blooming as holograms above them. You giggle at the large animated fishes swimming above the river with blank expressions and painted button eyes. 

The golden clock shines bright in the sky, its holographic hands ticking down to midnight. It looks like something out of a fantasy movie, scattering golden pixels everywhere with each minute passing. The size of it alone reminds you of the scale of this city.

This is an empire. It's owned by the kings and queens who built it over the bones left from sacrifices. It's going to be owned by heirs and heiresses. You feel a looming sense of dread come over you. It's so beautiful and it can never belong to itself. It must always belong to someone. It’s the terms and conditions of human creation.

"Hey." Yangyang taps you on the shoulder and you try not to flinch. "What are you thinking?"

You hum. "Stuff."

"This place is pretty cool, huh?"

That, you can agree with. "It is. It's so amazing that I can't believe I'm here sometimes."

Yangyang laughs slowly. "I hope more people can live here. Not in level one. You know. No one should live in desperation."

You hold back a scoff, though you end up frowning. What does a rich kid know of desperation? He might as well be prince, and princes do not know how to beg. It must be something of a saviour complex. You shrink away from him. The new year music is starting to ring a little too loud in your ears.

"That would be difficult," you mutter.

"Not if you lower the cost of living conditions—ah. Sorry." He pauses and you feel a flicker of surprise in you. “It’s not appropriate to discuss. Or so my parents tell me…”

The expression comes from empathy. You’re sure of it. There’s some sort of passion and not the kind of coloured fire that flames up in parties, but a different one. The kind that says, if you can’t bear the heat then you can’t learn how to forge. You scoff. Which prince has possibly known heat?

“I- I get angry too,” you say quietly. “I think it’s something to be angry about.”

He smiles at you, leaning against the balcony railing. 

You’re interrupted by a man in the attire of a waiter and it causes the two of you to jump away from each other. It’s not like you were very close in the first place but the proximity of shared words can play tricks on people. The man offers the two of you a screen and Yangyang’s face lights up almost immediately.

“We can order food with this,” he says. “Or book a table. The top strips are all reserved for members of the club. That’s the big daddy restaurants.”

“That’s… pretty cool,” you say, leaning in to glance over the browsing menu. “But don’t say that phrase to me again.”

“I can. And I will.”

“Ugh. Move on.”

“Okay, so we should drop by the convenience store for some ramen. I heard they taste better in the middle of the night,” Yangyang suggests all of a sudden, leaning in further.

It gets difficult sometimes to not be bothered by him, especially when there is a lack of distance. You look at him, pause and then sigh. “Sure. I guess. Are those free too?”

He opens his mouth in sudden realization and grins sheepishly at you. You roll your eyes.

“Do you have money then?”

“Uh.”

“How do you not have money? It’s the New Year!”

“I… uh—”

“Okay, you don’t have to answer that. But I’m not paying for you,” you complain. “You could always ask your parents for some money. What’s the point of being a party kid?”

‘Party kids’—it makes you laugh in amusement—is the colloquial term given to the children of businesspeople who had a direct hand in the economic progress of New Shanghai. You would sell your kidneys to be one and it still wouldn’t be enough.

His smile wavers at your statement but he shakes his head. “If I call my mom, she’ll start scolding me again about how my apartment room needs to be cleaner. Blah, blah, blah. You know.”

“She’s right- wait, you don’t clean your room?”

“Don’t take her side, (name).” 

You bite down a smile and he offers you his biggest one. 

“Oh, that place looks new,” Yangyang exclaims, a long index finger pointing to the preview of a sushi restaurant. You glare at him, his face nearer to yours than you would prefer but his eyes are fixed like a child ogling halloween candy.

“Let’s go,” he urges, looking directly at you. 

You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head vehemently. “We don’t have money. Or bit-credits.”

He sighs, deflating as though you just snatched the candy right from his hands. “But… I haven’t been there before.”

“So?” You exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You don’t have to try every food place in the city.”

“I need to eat,” he says as though it’s a very reasonable response. “I’m still growing!”

“Not mentally.”

He drops his smile, looking at you blankly. “You don’t have to get so smart with me, let me tell you.”

You snicker at the ‘offended’ expression on his face.

In the next moment, your attention shifts to the sudden crowd of people rushing to the balcony. Yangyang pulls you closer to avoid getting pushed by them, and you look around confused. It all makes sense when they start chanting the numbers, counting down from ten. You can only stare in awe at the clock and the otherworldly glee in the rhythmic chants. It’s like they don’t feel anything but joy at this moment. You let yourself smile.

The clock strikes twelve. The sound of the bell resounds throughout the city and the firecrackers burst into a thousand shades of red and gold across the sky. There’s moving images of animals, floating text and other animations which make the night sky seem like a screen. The sparks of the fireworks look like golden snow, or even happy little pixels.

You point your finger to the sky excitedly but when you turn, Yangyang’s eyes aren’t on the sky but on your hand outstretched towards it. He faces you, rather hesitantly as though caught red-handed.

“You’re- you’re… so pretty,” he says, softly and shrugging as if answering a question.

You wish he wouldn’t look at you like that. It’s the lonely speaking, right? The euphoria of human connection in this time and age—it can make you believe anything. There’s a myriad of colours blooming in the sky behind you, a city dazzling with diamond and ruby lights, people with much more stories to tell than you do. This city, this city, this city. This city will break your heart. 

“It’s kind of crappy,” you mutter, to which Yangyang quirks an ear.

“Wh-what is?”

“This city. It’s got bright lights and fun and all those promises of success. But all I see are people desperately trying to survive. All I see are the same faces at the top and—I’m sorry. I’m getting carried away.”

“No, no.” He makes a vague gesture. “I’m listening.”

“We’re at their mercy,” you whisper. “My life is not my own. That’s crappy.”

Yangyang hums in response. “You're right. What’s the point of living a life that’s not your own?”

Looking at him again, you see the entire figure of his being against the fireworks and all the beautiful creations of the human race. His almost silver hair falls perfectly by his forehead, the contact lenses looking like glazed frost over his eyes. Just as vibrant and excessive as the city itself, Yangyang belongs here. This is his kingdom. 

No, that’s not quite right perhaps. Yangyang belongs anywhere because he brings warmth. You're suddenly grateful he's with you because no one you know would possibly go out of their way to make you feel comfortable like this. You know Yangyang loves people and crowds. No one would do that for you at the expense of their own enjoyment. You smile at the prospect of solving the blinding mystery that he is.

"We… should leave," Yangyang says, all of a sudden. He eyes a man at the corner of the balcony, dressed in a business suit and looking blank. He sticks out like a sore thumb. You're not sure why he's in that getup.

"Okay," you say, not sure why you're so agreeable tonight.

Maybe it's the night. Sometimes all you can do is drag your feet over the asphalt and hope it'll be sunnier tomorrow.

v. two-four-seven convenience store

College boys are the most god-awful creatures on earth.

“Hey, do you always reach class on time?” Yangyang asks, eyes curious. He keeps asking a question every five minutes or so, trying to keep up conversation. You've already told him he doesn't have to. However, it makes you strangely comfortable to hear the sound of his voice periodically. You won't tell him that.

You nod, returning your gaze to the window, though the advertisements block your view. You can always try skipping the ad every five goddamn seconds. 

It's your first time riding the train that travels through the Mobius Strip, and certainly the first time in a luxury cabin. Since it’s free for members of the new year club, you can heave a sigh of relief. You will never in your life, even if it’s genetically elongated, ever be able to afford a luxury cabin.

"Oh, that looks so good," Yangyang says, large hand smacking against the window to get rid of the colourful advertisements. 

"It's a convenience store, Yangyang," you say. "It's got everyday ramen."

"No, look. It's a different brand. And they're giving a burger for free with two ramen cups!"

You furrow your eyebrows at him. "Well, I guess it's cheaper too."

"Oh, we can go to one of the upper restaurants too. They're free, remember?"

"I like convenience stores," you mumble. There's something about the lack of even lighting and crowds that made them a comfort spot for you.

“Quick,” he says, pulling you off the seat when the train stops.

“Yangyang!” you warn. He's so easily excitable that you find it hard to believe he's real sometimes.

However, when he turns around with his big puppy-dog eyes, you curse at yourself before you curse at him. Sighing, you follow him down the steps, his hand tenderly holding yours. Sometimes, you wonder if the human touch means anything at all in this diamond and steel era. Yangyang’s palm is warm against yours.

The ramen tastes awfully delicious on stolen time, and you would complain more if it weren’t for Yangyang looking at you with so serene a look. It annoys you and you try to grab his attention by waving your chopsticks in front of him. When it doesn’t work, you resort to swearing. You’ve never seen anyone respond with a smiling hum after being told to “eat shit”.

“Oh, this tastes so good,” he states, cheeks puffed with food. “I think I’m going to cry.”

“I- I think you’re crying because it’s spicy.”

“Oh.”

As usual, Yangyang pokes and prods at you with questions about your daily life, like you’re the most interesting thing in a city full of blinding lights, world-class robots and cyber-enhanced technology. You don’t understand how he doesn’t just grow tired of asking every single detail about you.

Apart from the fact that Liu Yangyang is most certainly an environmental hazard, some part of you cannot believe that he's truly terrible. There's something innocent about him, but all at once, something quiet and mysterious. 

“Why are you always so curious, Yangyang?” you ask finally. “Why are you always running off to different places?”

“Because experiences never come twice,” he answers after some thinking. It seems to be a little difficult for him to articulate, deep contemplation over his features when he continues. “This city… all the lights and clubs and arenas, all of it will be gone someday. Like we don’t have telephones or those big computers anymore.”

You rest your chin on your palm, leaning in.

“This moment, right here with you… I’ll never experience it again,” he tells you. “We can have more midnight convenience store ramen sometime later but… each time will be different. I’d rather live now.”

You smile softly. “That’s a funny thought to live by.”

“Yours isn’t any better,” he says, patting your head. “Also, I’m like hot and young and popular and not a cyborg—how can I miss parties?”

You shake your head, laughing. He’s ridiculous. He’s completely ridiculous. In that moment, when you look at him, Yangyang seems to be smiling in a daze, eyes on your face.

“You look nice when you smile,” he says quietly.

"Thanks," you respond. "I should keep it a secret then, huh?"

"Not from me," he says, smiling. 

Somehow, the extra minutes you have at the convenience store turn to a few multiplayer games and then, ditching technology, to an arm wrestling match.

"I feel like this game is kind of unfair," you say after losing almost immediately. He's clearly got stronger muscles. Does he work out? Probably against his will, you bet.

“My right arm’s a lot stronger than my left arm,” he says, before looking a little horrified. “That wasn’t a masturbation joke, by the way. I am so sorry.”

You roll your eyes. "Give me your left hand then- wait. You're right-handed?"

"That's not the- uh." He thinks for a moment, trying to gather words. “That’s not the reason.”

“I, uh, I heavily damaged this arm when I was a kid—don’t look like that, there’s a fun part to this. It’s made of titanium! And some other things. The names are too complicated.”

You drive your fingers over the arm, so warm and real and flushed red, anything but metal and code. You find curiosity blooming in you more than ever before.

“You know why I’m not with family,” you say, straightening. “But why aren’t you celebrating with your family?” 

He gets quiet, thinking to himself for a few more moments. You almost regret asking when he answers, a hesitant sound leaving him first.

“None of us, uh… none of our parents can spare more than three hours. They’ll come in the afternoon tomorr—today.”

You can’t exactly respond to that very well.

“So all of us go hang out at the New Year’s Club.”

You frown. "But it's not a celebration without family!"

"We have new year lunches. And… it's the future. Traditions die. Very few grieve them for fear of being stuck in the past."

You feel partly horrified and partly dismal. "I… You could come with me next year, if you like."

You're not sure where the offer comes from but Yangyang lights up at the idea.

"I can? Oh, we'll have so much fun!"

"Slow down. There's a year to go."

Yangyang laughs. It's surprising the way he turned out. He must have gotten tired of waiting by the door. And now you know all the things about him that his parents don’t.

You smile at him, warming up to the idea of you and him as friends before scoffing at it again.

Right in the next moment, Yangyang dips suddenly to the ground, crouching below the table. You look around in surprise and fall to your knees with a yelp at the tug on our wrist from Yangyang.

“What the hell?” you hiss. “You’re starting to act really weird.”

“I- Sorry. It’s an emergency,” he says, but there’s no sign of distress in his voice. He simply smiles at you. Perhaps he’s never heard of the emotion as of yet.

“Your babysitter?”

“I say that once and on accident—yes, it’s my babysitter.”

You chuckle. He’s simply too cute at times. 

“We have to be discreet now, okay? It’s like—what’s the movie called? Oh, Mission Impossible.”

“I’ve never seen that.”

“What? How can you not? It’s a classic! It’s got so many cool—ah, I’ll show you another time.”

You hum, staring at Yangyang’s facial features tense up and relax again as he scans the vicinity outside the window of the convenience store. It’s full of people, even at this hour so you can’t possibly know who’s looking at you from there.

Yangyang turns back to you. “Have you ever been to blue moon station?”

“The one with the pretty walls? No. No, I’ve never even gone beyond Strip Two.”

Yangyang smiles at you and right then, you feel like you’re about to resent whatever’s going to happen next. It’s in the ebb and flow of tonight’s itinerary, however, and you relax your shoulders just as he does a roll across the floor, looking back at you with a grin for executing it flawlessly. 

“You’re so silly,” you mutter. 

“I heard that,” he whisper-shouts back.

You’re not as afraid as before, you realize. The lights are absolutely mesmerizing.

vi. blue moon station

It drops a few degrees in temperature once you step foot onto the platform. You can see a bunch of scattered tourists, cameras hanging around their neck and a look of awe over their faces. 

Yangyang takes off his jacket, shivering immediately but offering it to you nonetheless. When you refuse, he places it gingerly over your shoulders.

"Is that a…?"

"A tourist bot, yes."

"Oh my god, it's so cute," you say, crouching by the little red robot, a teal-colored smiley face popping up on its monitor.

"A lot of tourists in this station," you note.

"Yeah. It's very… visually pleasing."

That's true. The walls are screens with three dimensional graphics, immersive enough to catch one's eye. A single tree grows through the middle of the station, evergreen and alive with holographic flora and fauna. The sun shines eternally over the tree. It's so beautiful that you had trouble taking your eyes off it at first.

The walls next to you are currently displaying a walk through a fantasy forest, crafted by a visionary artist, no doubt. A blue butterfly flies past you and you stare at it before zoning out.

Sometimes, the lights are too disorienting. You start to feel dizzy, massaging your forehead when Yangyang brushes the tips of his fingers against your shoulder.

“You good?”

Yangyang crouches beside you with watchful eyes.

You nod, turning your attention to the tourist bot. It displays a plethora of information about the architecture of this place which you're sure no tourist will bother to read beyond the first two lines. 

“You can make it do cool tricks too,” Yangyang says. “Watch.”

Yangyang pokes at it with his index finger, drawing a pattern over the screen. The bot proceeds to do an old internet dance, waving about its arms and hips. You laugh at it and Yangyang looks at you with the pride of a third grader with first place on their science project.

The colours on the walls change and you see the animation of a man and a fox, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to recall that image. They seem to be broadcasting fables through the holograms. You can’t deny that they’re pretty—glowing with auspicious colours and as animated as the real world itself. As if by compulsion, you hold Yangyang’s hand. It’s nice to feel the human touch real once in a while, especially in the overwhelming loneliness of city nights.

Yangyang looks at you brightly and right then, you feel less inclined to leave him.

“You know, I could teach you better ways to flirt than just grab my hand,” he says, grinning like an idiot.

“What?” 

You move your hand. “I’m not flirting.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he responds quickly. “Can I please have your hand back?”

You shake your head, laughing. He worries you. Some part of you says you shouldn’t be worried. It’s not like you’re close friends. (Friends, maybe. Close, not yet.)

The night has a different opinion.

—

“Found you,” a voice declares, and the two of you jump into each other with a scream.

The man in the suit looks at you with a fatigued look in his eyes, hair somehow still neat though he breathes like his lungs are on fire. 

“Care to tell me why you’ve been skipping my calls?” he asks after catching his breath. “It’s not like I wanted to follow you—you just needed to tell me.”

“I… I was busy?” Yangyang flashes a smile. “Kun-ge, I honestly had no idea you called. I don’t even have my phone.”

The man shakes his head. “Fine. Just head over to Jasmine for the night. And you can bring your date too.”

He gestures at you and you want to deny it as quick as you can. You do not, however. It’s almost like you’ve warmed up to the idea of it rather well.

“Okay,” Yangyang answers quietly. 

vii. jasmine private lounge

You enter a lounge with the capacity of around a hundred people. Despite that, there are hardly five present. The walls are black with neon jasmines pulsating from blue to red. A grand piano lies still in all its elegance in the middle of the lounge, played by a plain white AI. It feels like an expensive place to be, and more so, it feels like someplace you’re not supposed to step foot into. There's a bar table at one side, opposite to the entrance which glows a hypnotizing purple. A flat lettering on the wall declares the time to be 3 A.M.

You and Yangyang sit a little too close on the artificially warmed couch, waiting for Kun to return. Yangyang reassures you that you haven't done anything wrong but the illicit outing of yours certainly says otherwise. You contemplate tasting the cocktail Yangyang ordered before finally giving in and find it pleasantly warm to taste. You take another sip.

“It’s a little strong,” Yangyang warns. “Don’t have all of—you had all of it.”

You shrug. Your throat certainly feels better now. This lounge is fucking cold.

"You know, Yangyang," you say with the warmth of confidence on your face. "You're a really nice guy."

He smiles incredulously. "Thanks. You're really nice too."

"And you're pretty decent-looking—"

"I know that."

"—and also popular. So why are you always hanging around me?"

"Uh, that's your question?"

You nod. Placing your cheek against your palm, you try not to sink into the couch.

"Because you're really cool!" He answers before clearing his throat. "I mean. I think you're fun to be around. You make me see things clearer."

"And what exactly are you wanting to see clearer?'

"You."

You blink aside your astoundment, straightening. "What?"

Your question is left unanswered because a man enters and sits across the two of you, a loud huff of annoyance leaving his mouth. It's not just his disposition but the architecture of his face that grabs your attention. He looks like an AI robot so perfectly crafted with coloured lips and flawless skin that you end up staring till Yangyang elbows you.

“He’s not an AI,” Yangyang whispers.

You furrow your brows and notice it is, in fact, true that he's not an AI. There are no ridges over the joints or hollowness in the eyes. He wears the same frost-patterned smart lenses as Yangyang does. However, it doesn't change the fact that the man is beautiful to look at.

“I’m never hosting a new year party again,” he mutters, sinking into the couch.

“It actually sounds kind of fun,” Yangyang interjects. “I can’t wait for my turn.”

“I’m sorry. Good luck standing at Longhua temple for three hours till midnight just to make sure nothing goes wrong. Without dinner.”

Yangyang makes a face at that.

"That's Sicheng-ge," he says, turning to you. 

"Ah," you say in response, remembering the name vaguely. 

"He let us into Club 2," Yangyang says, noticing your lost expression.

"I think Kun's looking for you," Sicheng says, eyes trained at the back. 

His hands fidget with the dim blue buttons at the edge of the table, till a small compartment reveals itself under the glass. An old world-style cigarette is slowly pushed up and Sicheng picks it up. He offers the next one to Yangyang, who accepts it hesitantly. No one smokes tobacco anymore when nicotine is so readily available. Alas, human nature is to want things deadly and out of reach.

“So how’s Cat?” Yangyang asks, fumbling with the plasma lighter he picked from a compartment on the side.

Sicheng smiles a little, the smoke from his cigarette snaking around him as he raises a hand to dissipate it.

“She’s doing fine. Running everything as usual.”

“Of course. Boss lady.” Yangyang does an awkward salute.

“Oh, a new hair color too. As pretty as flower fields in the spring of ‘22.”

Sicheng’s lovesick rambling is interrupted by Yangyang hacking his lungs out. You turn to him and he avoids your gaze, reaching for a crystal blue  glass of water one of the helper bots offer. So, he’s not even a smoker? Why did he think you would care? 

“Anyway, Kun is glaring daggers at me now. You better get out of here.” Sicheng grimaces.

You turn around to see Kun by the bar table, gesturing towards Yangyang to come. You're not sure why but either of those men make you nervous. 

"I'll be right back," Yangyang says, scrambling up and leaving you in a long awkward silence with Sicheng.

“So, uh, I’m assuming you’re oblivious to that lovestruck puppy following you around?” Sicheng asks, raising an eyebrow. “Or is this some game you guys are into? I’m not judging you for that.”

Your face heats up and you fidget with your collar. “The- A what? Game? Uh? I- huh?”

Sicheng tries to press down his smile but it’s evident enough for you to see. Did you say something funny? Did Yangyang say something funny about you? Oh, you’re going to kill him.

“For all that he talks, he’s kind of terrible at pulling together his own love life.” 

“I- I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

It still unnerves you to look at him. He certainly looks more android than human when he’s not making any particular expression.

“Don’t mind me,” he says, offering you a reassuring smile. “You should find Yangyang before he lands the two of you in trouble.”

You turn to look at Yangyang through the glass and turn back nodding. Sicheng offers you a parting smile and you hesitantly make your way to the bar table.

"This isn't in my job description," Kun tells Yangyang just before you arrive. "I didn't know being a lawyer included babysitting."

The tips of Yangyang's ears heat up when he notices you.

"It's not babysitting," he murmurs. “Also, you’re not my mom.”

"You, Ten, Kunhang, all of you give me such a hard time," he continues but pauses right when he notices you. 

"Oh, hello. (Name), isn't it?" He says, smiling politely. He's quite young and handsome for a lawyer. "Yangyang talks about you a lot."

"Oh," you respond. "Really?"

Yangyang glares at the older man. "You don't have to say everything, Kun-ge."

"You interested in law?" Kun asks, offering you a seat between him and Yangyang.

You make a face. The law is a tool for the rich and powerful. But then again, what isn’t? The world is in your hands when you have billions to spare. However, you still can’t imagine being a rich man's guard dog your whole life.

Kun chuckles. "You kids are interested in tech more, aren't you?"

Yangyang interrupts, "You talk like you're fifty years old."

Kun grimaces, resting his face against his hand. Shooting a glare at Yangyang, he finishes the rest of his wine.

You're not exactly interested in tech or engineering or the big kid jobs either. You just want a way to survive this man-made food chain. Rich eats the world till there’s nothing left on the plate. Then again, you'd rather be a pet than get eaten.

"Anyway," Kun turns to Yangyang. "If you see Ten, give me a call."

Yangyang signals with a thumbs up gesture, watching as Kun’s figure slowly makes its way out of the gate. It’s the two of you again and suddenly, you feel a strange sort of feeling overcome you. Leaning your throbbing forehead against Yangyang’s shoulder, you take some soft breaths and skip the part where you question your actions. It’s pleasant, at the very least. He shifts his chair closer, extending his arm around you so that your head rests against his shoulder more comfortably.

“You must be tired,” he mutters.

“You didn’t answer me,” you say. “Answer in a way I understood, at least.”

“Hm?”

“Why do you hang around me?”

“Do you not… want me to?”

“No. I like your company, actually. I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

Yangyang laughs. “You’re… you’re really perfect. As a person. At least to me, you seem that way.”

You scoff. “You’re a long way off there.”

“No. No, you felt like clockwork,” he continues. “When I first met you. I couldn’t believe you were real.”

You do work like a delirious robot on clockwork steroids. But you’re not very proud of it. You don’t think overworking is a good personality trait to have—even if it’s for survival. However, the faraway look in Yangyang’s eyes suggests that’s not what he means.

“I felt like I understood you,” he continues after a short pause.

You find it unbelievable. That’s the one sentence you could never imagine coming from him to you, much less agree with. But right then, as his warmth seeps into you, you want to agree desperately.

Yangyang feels an unexpected trickle of doubt down his throat. No matter how many times he’s practised in front of the mirror, the words don’t come out right when you’re with him. With everything you do, he feels more drawn in. There’s something familiar and something honest. And if he’s honest himself, he just likes you. What sort of a hypocrite should he be categorized as, to tell his friends to ‘just confess’ to their crushes when he’s a complete idiot when it comes to you? It can’t be that little voice from his childhood that tells him to stay in order.

Yangyang understands that there are rules to this world but he doesn’t get what those have got to do with him. He sighs, the sound somewhat grim when it comes from him.

"I've seen it before," he says, "People come from all over the country with hopes and dreams, and they get their hearts broken by capitalism."

You frown.

"I don't want you to go anywhere," he mumbles. "I hope you'll stay… even if- even if you feel like that, you know? If you're feeling lonely, I could—"

"Yangyang." You smile. "I’m quite comfortable here."

When you bury your nose into the crook of his neck, Yangyang thinks this is it. This is how he ends the sorry excuse of flirting he’s been trying with you and says something he regrets. It was never this difficult with the other crushes he’s had. He’s always left opening his mouth and then promptly closing it like a goldfish out of water every single time he wants to bring up dating with you. He’s always honest. So, what’s the big deal this time? This is so horrendously not cool of him.

You straighten. “We should get back home.”

“Can you- Can you not move so far from me, please?” Yangyang murmurs, hands gripping yours.

You smile, to yourself more to him but that’s one he likes the most.

“You’re a really interesting person, Yangyang.”

“I am?” He clears his throat and repeats the question. 

“How are you so nice to people?”

“I think people are nice.”

“Why do you like parties?”

“They’re fun.”

“When the party’s over, who do you go to?” you ask, words mushing into each other.

“Home,” he answers, gulping down what seems like more words. “Like always.”

A hush falls between the two of you. You’re asking quite the questions.

“I’m sweaty,” you mutter. “I hate being sweaty.”

“You look wonderful though,” Yangyang mumbles, more to himself than to you. “Not that being sweaty makes you wonderful. You’re just nice.”

There’s another hush, the notes of the piano playing a faraway, romantic tune. He turns away and looks back at you again, but right in that moment, you lean forward to press your lips against his. It’s so sudden that he almost falls over backwards, his feet planted firmly on the ground the only thing preventing that from happening. The next thing he thinks is that your lips are on fire and it’s the most comfortable feeling he’s ever experienced. 

The two of you fit into each other like clockwork, Yangyang thinks. It’s the one thing in his life that feels whole. Not that he isn’t whole by himself—he just loves your warmth. For a moment he feels like he’s on cloud nine and the next, his heart plummets when he feels you go limp in his arms. 

It breaks his heart a little but he doesn’t—can’t bring himself to say much. He’s not this bad when he’s drunk, is he? Pulling you up by the waist, he texts Kunhang to bring his car down to the lounge.

This is going to be a long night.

viii. home 

You wake up to the sun in your eyes and immediately know you're someplace you shouldn't be. This isn't your bed. The sun doesn't reach your bed in the morning. This isn’t the dormitory. You see a cubical alarm clock, a pixelated smiley face on it as it displays 10 A.M.

You get up and immediately shriek. You’re not wearing any clothes. Pulling the blanket up to your chin, you look around the room. It’s huge; the walls are multicolored with a little section opposite the bed reserved for photographs. There’s a lot of junk all over the floor that you don’t pay mind to when you notice Yangyang.

“Yangyang?!”

He rouses blinking slowly, hair going every which way and his eyes still unfocused. He looks like he’s had a difficult night.

“Why are you on the floor?” you ask, shrinking further into the ridiculously soft bed when he gets up. Massaging the back of his neck, he looks like he's looking at a mirage instead of a real live person. Unfortunately, he’s not wearing a shirt and you look away after a prolonged minute of staring. This is getting ridiculous. What are you doing here?

“Yangyang!”

“Huh? Oh!”

He seems to be finally awake. You should pop the question before it eats you alive.

"Did- Did we…?"

Yangyang blinks at you in confusion before a loud "oh" erupts from his mouth.

"No!" He says in between laughter. "No, we didn't. Oh my god, you’re so funny. You took off your clothes saying it's too hot and smacked me with them. I didn’t look, by the way.”

Your jaw drops. You can’t even form words through the pulsing headache.

“Your clothes are on the chair. And I didn’t touch your underwear. Out of respect."

You avoid eye contact in embarrassment. 

“And… well, you did kiss me once. Twice.”

You look up alarmed and he raises his arms in defense. 

“You- you were drunk so I had to push you off. You cried a little after that. Sorry.”

“Oh god.” You cover your face with your hands, sitting down on the bed. That has to be the most embarrassing thing you could have done.

“You- Don’t worry about that. You’re a good kisser. I was kind of surprised,” he offers in an attempt to make you feel better but you only grow hotter in the face.

“And- And I liked it,” he adds in a panic. “Wait, I don’t mean it in a creepy way.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t anyone else.”

“What?”

“You. It’s okay if it’s you.”

You give him a weak smile, still not over the embarrassment.

Yangyang laughs. “I… I think I should’ve said this before but… can I take you out on a date?”

“What were we doing last night then?”

“Well, that was- ah. You’re teasing me. Motherfucker.”

You giggle into your palm. When he takes a seat on the bed, you make a distressed sound and he jumps up immediately.

“My clothes,” you hiss. “Get out of the room so I can wear them.”

“Right,” he says, pointing an index finger at you.

He turns around right then. "By the way…"

You shriek, pulling the cover up all the way to your nose.

"Sorry," he says, averting his eyes immediately. "If- if that was a date, did you like it? Do you wanna go on another one?"

You can see him practically sweat bullets and you laugh at the innocuous questions. He’s too cute. You can’t believe you made yourself shake off the thought every time it crossed you. However indelicate his touch is, you welcome it nonetheless.

"Yes. Yes, I'll go on a date with you. You annoying, stupid, bratty idiot." 

“Okay, that was mean.”

Watching his figure leave through the door, you relax your shoulders. In the end, people will always be people. No matter what shiny new toy you give them to play with, people will always search for happiness, and they will laugh and cry and fall in love with people and places and things over and over again. It's lovely to be human in an era of diamond and steel.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part twenty-four

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: yayyyy omg i didn't mean to wait so long to post this sorry y'all. also i think i have a coryo oneshot on the way soon maybe. unrelated to BOTH of these series, which is unheard of from me lol. oh, and i'm planning a few for this series for once it's done. (which is creeping up on us, somehow)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"Coryo." Tigris says as he comes back from walking their grandmother back to her room. With the "horrible" news that a District girl would be living with them, she insisted she had to lie down or she may just die.

"She's fine." He waves his cousin off, brushing past her to grab your bag for you. "Just her typical theatrics, she'll love Y/N when she gets to know her. Don't worry."

"It's not grandma'am I'm worried about." She whispers, grabbing his arm to stop him.

"Y/N?" He frowns, pausing and looking at her. "Is she okay? God- I was scared of grandma'am saying something like that to her..."

"She's fine, but you called her 'love', Coryo. In the elevator. Is she your girlfriend now, or something like that?" Tigris asks, looking back down the hall to make sure neither you nor their grandmother were overhearing.

"I mean, kind of? Not really, I don't know." He stammers, avoiding her eyes. "We never talked about it."

"Coryo!" She hisses. "If grandma'am finds out she'll have a heart attack!"

"Okay, then she doesn't have to know yet. As I said, one, we haven't talked about it and two, grandma'am will get used to her eventually and it will be fine."

"I know that." Tigris sighs, taking a step back and rubbing her head. "I'm making up the guest room for her. Just... don't let grandma'am find out."

"Obviously not." He mutters, picking up your bag to carry into the guest room.

"But Coryo-" She stops him in his tracks and he turns, looking at her expectantly. "Don't think I'm not happy for you, okay? She's incredibly sweet. Just... keep it between you guys for now. Be gentle with her."

He nods, giving her a small smile before carrying on down the hall.

When Coryo opens the door to his bedroom, you're sitting in the middle of the floor, leaning over your crossed legs as you write against the floor. "Y/N/N." He laughs slightly, closing the door behind himself. "What are you doing?"

You look up, and can't help but smile when you see him. "Hi." You grin, straightening up and standing, unfinished letter and pencil still in hand. "I was writing a letter to Lennox."

"On the floor?"

"Yes."

"There's a perfectly functional desk right behind you, love." He points as he closes the gap between the two of you.

"Yes, well, I did not want to overstep or seem nosey." You explain, looking at the desk and then back up at him.

He smiles, placing his hands on your waist. "This is my room."

"Exactly."

"What I meant," He chuckles, thumbs running over the sides of your stomach on your top. "Is that you can do whatever you want."

"Oh, well, thank you." You nod, looking down at the bed. "I'm glad to hear that because Tybs has already taken over your bed."

When he follows your eyes to the cat sprawled out on top of his sheets, he laughs. "See? He's already made himself at home."

"I am so sorry, I tried to keep him off. His hair gets on everything." You quickly say, already reaching to pick up your stubborn cat again.

"I have a lint roller." He shrugs, grabbing your wrist to stop you and leaning down to kiss your cheek.

"A lint roller?"

"Oh, love..." He chuckles, crouching down slightly to be able to pull you closer as he lifts you and spins you in a circle.

You laugh, trying not to crush your letter as you hold onto him.

"I can't wait to show you everything. You're going to love it here." He grins, letting you back down onto your feet. "I know you will."

You bite your lip over a fading smile, nodding up at him.

"I know it's scary, I know that." He assures you, once again running his hands up and down the side of your waist. "But you'll get used to it, and you'll be happy here. I promise."

"How are you finding things so far?" Tigris asks, curious as you make eye contact with her while making an extremely conscious effort to not spill the tea from the cup in your hand. It felt so delicate in your hands, and you have never felt filthier- as if just sitting on their couch or touching their things would ruin them. "Not that you've seen much, yet."

"It's..." You start, deciding just to put the steaming tea down so you don't spill it on your lap. "It really is like I've never been here before. Which is nice, because I was scared to come back, if I am being totally honest."

"I can imagine." She nods in understanding.

"When, um, when I was last here," You clear your throat. "We didn't see much of anything. We were always moved in vehicles with no windows except for the funeral, so..."

We.

"You could see some of the city from the zoo, though." Coryo adds.

"I could." You nod, swallowing over the dryness suddenly overbearing in your mouth. "Tigris, Coryo says you're a designer?" Changing the subject was the only thing you could do to help it.

"Yes, well, I'm trying." She laughs.

"My Ma is a seamstress." You tell her. "She's made everythin' I've ever worn." The way your District accent seems to reappear makes Coryo smile to himself- that's who you were at home. He can hear the tension and nerves leaving your tone.

"Really?" She smiles. "That's amazing. I've made much of our clothes, too, but it's just so hard to find the time."

"It is extremely time-consuming." You agree, looking over at Coryo next to you as he pats your shoulder. He points to the tray of snacks Tigris had brought out, and you reach out to take a cookie. You hadn't eaten all day, which was likely contributing to your shakiness. Though, you also hadn't felt hungry at all since you left home.

"Your mother is very talented." Tigris says, taking a sip of her tea and gesturing to the skirt and top you were currently wearing. "Does she embroider too?"

You look down, taking note of the detailing on the trim of your sweater. "Yes. All by hand."

"I've never tried it, I wouldn't know where to start." Tigris laughs.

"Oh, me neither." You laugh slightly, shaking your head. You did know, you weren't as good at it as your ma, but she still put in the effort of teaching you the basics.

"Don't talk too much about this- Tigris will turn you into a human pin cushion." Coryo teases, looking back to the hall to make sure grandma'am hadn't somehow made an early recovery and come out of her room before he can place his arm over your shoulders.

"Oh, hush." She laughs, pretending to throw a cookie at him as you chew slowly on yours, smiling. They remind you of you and Lennox, almost. The way they talk to each other, and how much it's obvious they love each other. Anywhere in Panem, kids are just kids.

The wave of a sick, gut-wrenching feeling hits you so fast that you stand up before you can even think about it. "Would you excuse me?" You mumble, turning and retreating down the hall to look for the bathroom Tigris pointed out earlier without even hearing either of their responses.

By the time you gently close the door and slide the lock shut, you're near hyperventilating. You hadn't even said goodbye to your own brother. You wrote him a note promising to write him every week and call once they had the phone that Coryo left them money for, but it wasn't enough. The idea of him waking to find you just gone, again, was all it took to have you sliding down the wall and curling up with your knees to your chest.

You were alone, and you missed your brother. Your family, the Covey. You should have said a longer goodbye to Lucy Gray, you should have woken Lennox and faced his anger about you leaving because that would mean you could have at least given him a hug. You felt like an awful sister, and an awful friend.

Even as you screw your eyes shut to try and pretend you're in your own bathroom, it doesn't do a thing to hold back the tears that have begun to stream freely down your face.

You have to be quiet.

What helped last time? Last time, you ran over lines. Coryo asked you to talk to him. Coryo was there.

Oh, she tore the letter into a thousand half-pence; railed at herself, that she should be so immodest to write to one that she knew would flout her. 'I measure him,' says she, 'by my own spirit; for I should flout him, if he writ to me; yea, though I love him, I should.

Thinking about it does very little as well, so you continue. With your forehead pressed to your knees, random lines and quotes flow through your head and are endlessly whispered from your lips. You don't have time to think of anything else.

You were getting better at managing your own panic attacks before Coryo came to Twelve, but since then you had been set back to square one. The games ended over two months ago now, and it still feels like it was only a week ago; the shock had worn off and you felt like you were losing your mind. Other times, other days, you were completely fine. As if none of it had ever happened, but would this move be the beginning of round three? Was this what your life was now? A never-ending cycle of feeling normal followed suddenly by the need to pull yourself up and out of rock bottom?

You didn't know if you could take it.

The nightmares came back day in and day out in that first week. You hadn't slept well, and you only left the apartment a small handful of times and even that was only for the sake of sending letters, getting things for Tybalt, and taking him to the vet.

Coryo really wanted you to get out with him for something you wanted to do or see, but at the same time, he understood why you wouldn't want to leave. When you finally agreed to leave with him, to go to the university campus with him to pick up an application and so he could give you a tour, he felt like a kid on Christmas morning.

"So, we live in The Corso. That main street we were just on, obviously. That's where all the Capitols Elites live, for the most part." Coryo explains, but you're having trouble paying attention. There were just so many people. You'd seen large groups of people before in Twelve, at the market or The Hob or the reaping, but never when everyone looked so different. At the same time, this also made it easier for you to blend in. Hardly anyone had stopped you, and you hoped it would be less and less from here on out. "Hey- you still with me?"

You look up at him, nodding. "Yes, that's lovely."

"You have no idea what I just said, do you?" He laughs, reaching out to gently fix the orange scarf you had draped around your neck and over your head that had begun to slide back over your hair. It was another effort to hide- it made you feel safe. You intended to return the scarf to him, but he insisted you keep it. Suddenly, you went nowhere without it.

"Sorry, it's just... quite loud. There's a lot of people." You explain, and he has to lean down slightly to hear you.

"Yeah, well, it is a Monday morning." He says, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Lots of people going to work."

You just nod, subconsciously drifting closer to his side as you walk.

"I was just saying that this is the route we'll take to get to school." Coryo grins, gently nudging your side.

"If I get accepted."

"You will." He assures you. "I don't doubt it for a minute."

Walking onto what must be the university campus, you already see fewer people. Classes for the fall semester didn't begin for a couple of weeks, Coryo said, so that allowed you to tour the buildings and property peacefully after you picked up your application.

It was another ornate building- outside and in, you realized as Coryo opened the double doors for you. You look around, eyes wide.

"Nice, hey?" He smiles, taking your hand. "Come on, the registrar's office is this way."

You follow him blindly down a few hallways, looking up at the tall ceilings and the paintings and out the windows and even at the architecture of the building itself. It was a lot to take in, but you were pleased it was so quiet. It wouldn't always be like this, and given that you do get accepted the way he promised, you wouldn't have time to process the beauty of it later.

Entering the office behind Coryo, you decide to keep your position mostly behind him as he walks up to the desk. There's not an ounce of hesitation in his gait- or in the smile on his face. He's all confidence. This is him in his natural state- it was nice to see him truly happy.

"Good morning, Mister Snow, what can we do for you? Did you want a paper copy of your schedule?" The woman behind the counter asks him, neatly stacking some papers and placing them down next to some books on her desk.

"Hello," He grins. "I actually was hoping I could get another copy of the application forms."

"Oh? Registration and acceptance closed weeks ago."

"I know that, but..." He steps to the side, nodding for you to join him. Nervously, you do, grabbing his hand under the counter. "This is Y/N, she'd like to apply. I know it's late but she just moved to the city so I was hoping we could work around it."

The woman's eyes widen. "I- Uh, yes, okay. Yes. We can certainly try." She nods quickly. "What program will you be applying for, Miss Y/L/N?" Of course she knew who you were, and maybe now it would benefit you.

You look up at Coryo, but he just nods at you to answer. "Oh, um, English Literature, please." You answer quietly.

"Arts." Coryo corrects you kindly, squeezing your hand and nodding to her.

"Alright, let me just grab those for you." She smiles, heels clicking on the floor as she walks toward a back room.

"And I would like my schedule, if that's possible!" Coryo calls after her and she turns to give him a quick nod before disappearing behind a polished dark-wood door. "English Lit will be your major, love, but you don't need to decide on that yet." He whispers to you.

"Gosh, I'm already embarrassing myself." You laugh slightly.

"No, no you're not. It's a little confusing. I should have told you."

"I didn't know registration was already closed, Coryo." You frown. "If it's inconvenient for them we should just go. I'll just find a job instead."

"Nonsense." He shakes his head. "Like I said, they want you here. They will make it happen, trust me."

"That's not fair though, is it?"

"It's more fair because you couldn't have handed it in on time if you wanted to." He says, dropping your hand in favour of sliding his onto your lower back.

"I suppose..."

"Okay! I've got it here..." The woman reappears and you paint on your smile, reaching out for the small folder as she walks up. "There's the application and some testing questions. If you could get it to us by tomorrow night that would be amazing."

"Yes, of course, I-"

"Tomorrow night?" Coryo asks, eyebrows raised at her. "Miss, respectfully, I worked on my application for weeks, and my tests were conducted by the school."

"You'll do just fine. Just try your best." She winks at you and he purses his lips, displeased that they hardly were even giving you a chance to submit an adequate application that would accurately reflect the extent of your intelligence.

"Thank you." You tell her honestly, clutching the stack of papers to your chest. "I shall have it done tomorrow."

Coryo assumes it must be different- shorter or lacking one (or several) of the essay portions. He grabs his schedule from her with a small smile, nodding before guiding you out of the room.

"Are you hungry or anything, love?" He asks you, sliding his hand up your back to rest between your shoulder blades as you move down the same empty hall. "I could show you around and then we could stop on our way back."

You chew your lip, papers clutched against your chest. "Perhaps you can give me the tour tomorrow when we come back to drop this off?" You ask, looking up at him. "I think it is more important I go home and get this finished, there is no time to waste."

He smiles, leaning over to kiss the crown of your head while you walk. "Yes, of course. Whatever you want."

'The lessons we take from obstacles we encounter can be fundamental to later success. Recount a time when you faced a challenge, setback, or failure. How did it affect you, and what did you learn from the experience?'

Staring at the essay question on the page didn't make it any easier to answer. You almost wish you had started with this so you had more time, rather than filling out all the personal information on the first and second pages and the financial information Coryo helped you with.

The answer was painfully obvious. You didn't want to write about the games, how they challenged you both mentally and physically, and what you learned from them. A lot about yourself, very little about the city you now found yourself living in.

Tapping your pen against the desk, you roll over in your mind how you want to word this. It was a delicate line to walk- it had to be honest, but also favourable to the people who lived here.

"Coryo?" You call out, turning in your chair and standing up to head across down the hall to his room.

He had left the door open, laying overtop of his ironed bedsheets and reading one of the many books you brought for him. "Can you come help me, please?"

He smiles, dropping the book immediately. "What do you need?"

"The essay... I don't know what to write." Mostly a lie, you just needed clarification on the best possible route to take the paper.

"What was the question again?" He asks as he gets up.

"What is a challenge I faced, how did it affect me, and what did I learn from it."

"What about the games?" He suggests as he brushes past you, heading into your room as you trail behind.

"Well, yes, but I don't know how to best approach it. I feel like that is a very delicate subject from my perspective." You explain. "I want to be honest but I also want them to like it."

Coryo hums, leaning over your desk to look at what has been completed on the application so far. "That's... yeah that's tough." He agrees. "If you were to answer it fully honestly, no watering it down for them, what would you want to say?"

"That..." You pause, thinking about it for a moment. "That it ruined my life. I'll never be the same person again- and neither will my loved ones, and I learned that my morals crumbled quickly under pressure." And that it's better to die in the games than live to tell the tale.

"Okay, so... it gave you a new outlook on life and a more profound appreciation for the life you had before, and you learned that people can change quickly to adapt and overcome their circumstances," Coryo says, and you frown. "Not that it is necessarily true, but that's what they'd like to hear and you wouldn't be completely lying."

He was good at twisting words and telling people what they wanted to hear in order to get what he needed from them; after all, he'd been doing it his whole life just to stay alive. His future depended on it, but you had never noticed that before. Maybe that came with a Capitol education, 'people pleasing' could be a course they taught at his academy, you wouldn't know. Power is everything here, apparently.

"And... I suppose if I had to think of an honestly good thing, I did make some friends out of it." You say, smiling up at him hopefully.

"And I am so glad," He nods, patting your shoulder. You always tried to look at the bright side- he remembered getting that impression from you even just watching the reaping. "But you can't include that."

"Why not?" You tilt your head at him.

"They won't like it, love. I mean, I would, but unfortunately, it's not for me to read."

"I see. Okay." You nod, biting your tongue. Your priorities had to shift if you wanted to get into the university, and that is a condition you could accept with a bit of practice.

"Want me to stay in here?" Coryo offers. "In case you have more questions?"

"I would like you to stay regardless." You giggle, sliding your arms around his waist to hug him.

"Good." He chuckles. "I didn't want to leave."

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[naomistares]

since your art style has changed (and i love how expressive and mischievous? it feels now, idk if that makes sense but i admire the heck out of your growth) what does your process look like now? do you use the same brushes as before? do you want to talk about what you love about your work now? i saw your tag about tlt redraws now that you like your art and it made me curious. anyway love your art so much, nori!

hi!! thank you so much for this very cool question!! i guess before i just drew without much putting any thought to like... anything at all haha, only when i started doing comics was when i actively tried to make myself enjoy the process more.

i just thought about what I hated and tried to change it and just do a lot more art studies in my own time and try to really think about everything... like composition ! and like with colors, i didn't like how i only used to use desaturated tones, when i enjoyed more colors in other art i see.

or with poses, i didn't like how everything i drew felt very static to me, it still does but i'm getting better!! so i've studied dynamic-ness and whatnot.

i didn't like how "realistic" i would naturally go with proportions while drawing when my personal taste enjoyed more cartoon-ish and whimsical proportions, so i tried to be a little bit more loose with that but i'm not all there yet. for example, when i do some reference studies in my own time i find myself copying it 1:1 as it is, so now i try to incorporate it into a specific style without just copying it, it doesn't feel like i benefited otherwise!

i'm also trying to currently improve my lineart, i'm finding it much more enjoyable to draw with a thin brush! my lines were often thick and bulky and not super clean.

and yes!! i used to be loyal to like one or two brushes but i'm just trying new things constantly and it definitely affects the general vibe of the drawing, i've been obsessed with pencil brushes but i'm retiring it for a bit for a more jagged brush that i'm obsessed with now lol (still haven't posted anything with that, (working on it) but it totally changed the vibe.)

i feel like i often know when something looks right but i struggle on how to get there at times, but lately i've been seeing more right than wrong and just generally enjoying drawing.... drawing is my favorite thing.... i clocked in 9 hours yesterday on procreate.

[pocket-raven]

What's this au you speak of? Can we hear more about it? 👀

👀 You mean my radioapple murder husband au? One moment *screams into the void* YES YES

Okay, So where do I start? Well it does have a name: It's the Foresaken Lovers Au, so any further posts will refer to it as that. If I write it up however, it will have a different name. Haven't figured it out yet though. Anyways some basic details that i wish i could draw because then people might be more interested but for now you get my rambles instead.

Lucifer and Alastor grow up together in New Orleans. Think Tiana and Lottie from Princess and the Frog. But there is a few differences. Like the obvious racism from Lucifer's family/others around them.

Infact Cecelia (Alastor's mum) tells Alastor (who's like.. 5 when he and Lucifer first meet). Not to get too upset if Lucifer doesn't send him any letters.

Also Alastor and Lucifer are essentially childhood sweethearts in this tbh.

Lucifer is pretty much raised by Michael. Michael was a little shit/got into a lot of trouble so the family was like "You can look after your baby brother now" to teach him responsibility

This unfortunately leads to Lucifer actually be infantilized his entire life. Only Alastor and Cecelia treat him like a person and not some delicate Doll.

Now not spoiling the entire plot yet lol. But basically they grow up together. Kind of.

I really don't want to spoil much unless more people ask. But Lucifer is actually the first to kill someone. And doesn't bat an eye when he finds Alastor stabbing his father's body repeatedly. Infact Lucifer gets everything cleaned up and tells Alastor how to dump the body.

They have their first kiss after they dump his body in the bayou-

They don't actually start killing till Cecelia passes away and Alastor is at his breaking point.

Alastor kills, Lucifer cleans up. Thats it. Their both cannibals too

They both die within a week or two of eachother, but don't find eachother for a few months, nearly a year.

Vaggie fell to hell years before Alastor died. So she and Charlie are in a relationship and have opened the hotel already. Charlie is also just Liliths daughter. But they are the reason Alastor and Lucifer find eachother again

I can't think of anything else right now and this is already long, so I'll stop right here. And hope more people are interested lol

[dbacklot99]

2024 fic roundup game

Can I just create an ask game? said @cheeseplants

Yes!! Thanks to @cheeseplants and anyone else you tagged me.

What fandoms do you write in? Good Omens! Only Good Omens, Forever Good Omens.

How many words have you published in 2024? Ok, including some chapters for an upcoming [redcated] collab, I'm estimating 150k that I actually wrote. Which....isn't much in this incredibly talented fandom BUT was a lot for me.

What is your greatest achievement this year? Getting out there and collaborating!! I talked to artists (y'all are magical and terrifying), I joined the [redacted] project and wrote amazing angst with @gaiaseyes451, @sixbynine-da, @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon, @groovynightstrawberry, and MxThirteen, PLUS more artists, @apocalyptic-scenes & babyrubysoho.

And then kept on writing with a lot of those folks to create some amazing crack - and Lucicrow?

My point is, once you start collaborating, you have no idea where it will take you!

What are your top three fics you’ve written this year? Mirrors (E, WIP but almost finished): Angsty reverse omens AU, but there's a happy ending I PROMISE. With amazing art from @daneecastle and @c0smicdisaster.

Cracked Pepper (E): Utterly absurd birthday crack for @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon. I'm still tickled that I somehow wrote this.

Have We Been Here Before? (E): A one-shot love letter to the fandom (also podfic from the amazing @nosferatini )

What was your biggest pit of despair moment? Hmmm, I got kind of lost in my subplots in the middle of After Heaven. But it worked out and I actually love the ending.

I regularly despair that I will never have enough time to write - or to write as well as I want.

What have you learned? I've gotten some sense of the things I'm ok at. And learning to work on adding descriptions and feelings, not just plot.

Still need to improve my gif game!

What fic did you want to do but never made it off the ground? I have three historical scenes hopping around, but not fully formed yet...

Did you beta any fics? Any favs you want to shout out? Yes!! I can't name all of them - and some aren't published yet (looking at you, @on1occasionfork). But some to throw love at:

Saint of Lost Things (E) by @gaiaseyes451. This would have gone on my year's best list, but I'm sneaking it in here. Post S2 angst and redemption is absolute marvel of story telling!

What Have I Lost (M) Another post2S fic, from MarieCuriosity that I can't wait to see how it comes together!

The Show Must Go On (M) A great 1941 follow-up by @vieux-yeux

Lady of Rheged (E): A West Essex historical AU by @mageofthepeople

Seasons of Nightingales (M): A massive, sweet post2S fic from @nosferatini that is almost done!!!

but i still want more (E): An intense but heartachingly lovely postS2 fic from @cordsycords

Confeitor (M): pure poetry from @adverbian

What three fics have you read this year that you love? Lol, 3!!!

Tethered (E): WIP by MarieCuriosity based on a Gleafer prompt

Someone is Calling Him Shorewards (E): by @harlotofupdog. Gah, if you haven't read it yet, what are you waiting for?

Trial & Error (M) by @fellshish. I love everything postS2 and this one was so original!

Anything ginger_cat wrote

Angel-Centered Therapy (G) I thought this was the perfect counterpoint to its big brother (sister?), Demonology.

Rosae series (E) by UKCalico. Sure, it's incredibly hot, but then hits you with these deep insights into the characters and their lives.

If I loved you less, We Could have Coffee (M): The Chapell Roan fic you didn't know you needed; excited to see what happens next! By @spectrallydistracted

Teach me, both the art from @gahellhimself-blog and the fics from Jeans. A really amazing collaboration!

What ideas are percolating for next year? Going to start off with a couple sequels, and then we'll see where the plot bunnies take us.

Who do you want to thank? @goodomensafterdark for endless support and entertainment. Wibly for maps!! @ireallyneedmoretea & @moderndayklutz for being beta rockstars on [redacted]!

Are you somewhere in this post? Should you be? Go on and play the game!

[cruyuu]

hello 💕 love your sukuita analyses and edits 🙏 my friend and i were looking through Gege's official chosen songs for each character specifically for yuji and sukuna now that the manga is over and i don't know if many people noticed Yujis first song was "Heart ni Ho wo Tsukete" and the lyrics are??????? literally canon sukuita 😭 "burn your loneliness" "don't turn to ashes" "you and i are together" "will we love each other? will we turn to ashes?" like 😭😭😭 if you haven't checked it out please do because we were losing it

Hi jenjen and thank you!

I already heard Heart ni Ho wo Tsukete and I agree. The lyrics are crazy. The song is quite beautiful, tho, shipping aside.

As someone who loves looking into stuff and finding connections, it's interesting to me that a character song is hinting at having a deep emotional connection with someone as a way of pushing on through the worst of "the worringly bad state they are in".

Sure, some would say "It doesn't have to mean that" as in "It doesn't have to be abt sukuita" but I like to think that it does because it's not like the story itself relied heavily on Sukuna and Yuuji- beginning with their reluctant union and ending with their parting- right? It's not like Yuuji taught Sukuna something about love and managed to reach him, right? That definitely didn't happen lmfao.

Also... how do you even begin to explain these lines?

I’m attached Deeply attached to you It doesn’t go in a single line I’m attached to you And the lies we tell each other

Remember that this is coming from a song picked for Yuuji, so it's supposed to represent him. Who is he deeply attached to, so much so that the attachment he shares with that person "doesn't just go in single line"? Who does he tell lies to?

Who, again, said he'd do anything to kill that creep and then asked for his return to his body, said that he is the only one who can accept him and would live with him?

It's all so mind-numbingly sweet, very confusing and terribly funny. It makes me want to hurl myself off a cliff. Gaze into the sunset with the cigarette in my hands and just sigh like I'm seventy thousand years old. It makes me want to squeal, screech and not at all act composed like I usually am.

Like, sukuita's relationship has been at the very center of the story even if it was out of focus for a while. Yuuji was with others and Sukuna was with others but then when they met again... those others just couldn't compete. One of my friends joked that they're lowkey that sentence "I have been looking for you in other people only to realize you've been right in front of me this entire time." and I can't help but giggle. Hell, the story itself is proof of it lol

Like I keep mentioning in my posts, these two tend to just act weirdly around each other. It's not even "just hate", neither "indifference", because everything that Yuuji did made him reluctant to part with Sukuna in the end, and no matter how much Sukuna dismisses Yuuji, he's also praising him and acknowledging him over and over and over. Yes, they can't see eye to eye, yes, they're fundamentally different from one another but Yuuji still managed to try and understand him. Sukuna also ended up accepting Yuuji's viewpoint and considered taking on a different path, finally changing after years of remaining stuck in a single mindset.

Like not one person had managed to change his mindset for all those years yet Yuuji- the idiot, brat, thing, whatever- did. In just a couple of months lol. That was the final seal on just how important he was to him in the end. The only one to beat him, the only one to reach him, the only one to come running back with arms open to still allow him to live no matter if he destroyed everything in his life.

Lol.

Which brings me to:

If we burn our union If we burn everything Won’t we love each other? Won’t we love each other? Won’t it become ash?

It fits them all too well. Love under the guise of hate, killing as an expression of love, hate as an expression of fondness. Everything flipped onto its head because, after all, aren't they too, (from human to curse in Yuuji's case, from curse to human in Sukuna's) when around each other?

I swear figuring out these two (and, in general, just trying to think about their relationship or write an analysis) makes me want to bang my head against the wall. All I'm saying is, if Gege ever goes to create a tragic romance manga, they have my full support because they knew what they were doing, twisting and intertwining these two to perfection before they ripped them away. They made them so entertaining, both as individual characters and when they collided with each other.

Yeah. I despise it here (affectionately).

I hope both you and your friend have an amazing day or night and thank you for the ask!

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

Hi, are your requests open? If not, ignore this please, but I would really, really like a chishiya x reader fluff where readers love language is "nah I'll do it for you" but not like grand gestures, just random things. Kinda like the peeling an orange thing, or going downstairs to get a snack or running a bath after a hard day. But like, it goes both ways, reader doing stuff for chishiya and vice versa. Also, could it be post borderlands where they remember everything? Feel free to change anything or don't do it at all, I wouldn't mind. Also, I haven't ever actually requested with my real username, so I don't know if it would notify me if you post with this, but can you @ me? Bye and I really enjoy your writing!!!

I'll Do It!

requested?: yes pairing(s): shuntarō chishiya x gn!reader genre: fluff, angst if you squint warning(s): mentions of nightmares, fluff, mentions of sleeping pills, mentions of very poor mental health, chishiya being sweet towards reader (shock horror gasp), mentions of trouble sleeping, mentions of eating disorder summary: 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘺𝘢, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘺𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 word count: 1k a/n: ofc you can! my requests are practically always open and i do try my hardest to get through them, so sorry if this is late lol. also, think this is so cute and you have a great idea. just to add, can somone request something for bang chan please lmao, i wanna write for him but all my ideas are literally gone lmao. make sure to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah! (P.s so sorry this took a while, ive been busy recently lol) tags: @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer

you and chishiya did absolutely everything for eachother. you both remembered the borderlands, which was a downside for the both of you, but you did both get over it. when chishiya went back to work, a lot changed.

it was almost as though he was never around, and he either worked so late that you were already asleep, or he would just crash when he got home. but of course, on the rare occasions he was working from home, you would bring him snacks and keep him company while he did so.

you had am office in your house that you had both decorated with comfy sofas, so you would sit and scroll through your phone while he worked, occasionally getting up to get a snack or a drink and bringing something back for him. you would also stand behind him sometimes and ask what he was doing, resulting in you being confused with the big fancy doctor words your boyfriend used in order to explain, so you ended up just sitting back down and pretending to understand (which he knew you wouldn't, and just chuckled anyways).

of course, you worked aswell, which also resulted in chishiya doing things for you. your work was mainly based at home, but you would have to go out and about to the office and do stuff sometimes. if it was a particularly stressful day, chishiya would run you a bath for after you finished work, and if you were working in the seperate office you had in your home, he would peep his head around the door and ask if you needed anything. if chishiya knew that you hadn't eaten anything yet, and you had said no to him asking if you needed anything, he would go get you a snack nontheless.

even though you both led very busy lives with your work, you also made time to cuddle in bed on a night, which took chishiya a while to get used to, but it was definately worth it.

there also lead to a problem with sleeping. sometimes one of you would have a nightmare and unintentionally wake the other, resulting in the other holding the other in their arms while the other calmed down and went back to sleep. more times than others, chishiya wouldn't wake you up when he had a nightmare, because he was a silent sleeper. but you, however, did wake him up since you were a quiet sleeper, but a one that moved around quite a lot. so you thrashed around quite a lot, with the occasional mutter of "no" or sometimes even you screamed.

the first time this did happen, however, chishiya thought there was an intruder, so he ultimately went into panic mode aswell, jumping awake and turning the light on, before realising it was just a nightmare you were having. he managed to wake you up as softly as he could, holding you in his arms as he whispered to you that everything would just about be alright. you believed him, well, almost.

the time he woke you up, he was just flinching and twitching in his sleep, and you woke him up. chishiya being chishiya, though, pretended nothing was wrong, but didn't say no to you holding him until he wemt back to sleep.

you almost believed that everything would be alright, because when your mental health started to slowly get worse, so did the nightmares. chishiya did notice you slowly started to eat less, and also sleep less, but he thought you would manage to get yourself back up on your feet. only when you started to get a lot worse, did he start to intervene.

it started off slow, just small snacks, before it turned into small meals, then bigger meals, then you were eating properly again. but that didn't change your sleeping. even though your eating patterns were improving, your nightmares were still getting worse.

almost every night you woke up screaming and crying, but even the nights you didn't, you would still be up throughout the night. chishiya was starting to get worried, even though he didn't show it that much, he worried.

after a while, you got a cat, aswell as sleeping pills perscribed from your doctor boyfriend himself. he thought the cat would help with anxiety, and the pills with sleeping. and they did, for a while at least. as much as chishiya loved you, he couldn't keep waking up due to your screams and nightmares.

the pills worked for around a month, before you started to get worse again. the pills weren't working as much as they used to and you were waking up a lot more. you had both tried everything, from pills to pillow mist, nothing was working.

your cat, did hep with bits of anxiety when you had the occasional anxiety or panic attack. but other than that, you were practically on your own. chishiya did help, but he wasn't there all the time. he did advise you to go get therapy, but even if you did, nobody would believe you other than the man l who suggested it himself.

at this point, you were barely sleeping. you would try not to wake chishiya, but whenever you were awake, so was he. it was almost as though he just knew you would be awake.

this one particular night, you had a worse nightmare, you were thrashing around all night and chishiya was awake. it was only when the screams started that he woke you up, you were hitting his chest in protest until you realised it was him.

"sh, sh, sh" he says, bringing your sobbing frame into his arms, your face soaking his night shirt with your tears. "you're okay, i'm here, everything is okay" he whispers, stroking your hair and leaving soft kisses on the crown of your head.

your sobs eventually died down, and chishiya just about thought you were asleep until you whispered.

"i'm sorry" you whispered into his chest.

"what for?" he says, cupping your cheeks in his hands and making you move your head so you were looking at him.

"keeping you awake every night" you whisper back.

"honey, it's fine, as long as you're okay" he says, bringing you back into his chest.

"i love you" you mutter, and you just about hear him say it back before sleep overcame you.

[lady-phasma]

Auntie, I have a question.

In the books Lestat gives Louis the dark gift towards the end of the 18th century, but in the tv show he turns him in 1910. That leaves a considerable amount of time where Lestat hadn’t met Louis.

I plan to write a (x reader) pre-canon fic about this gap in time before Lestat and Louis meet. Do you know what he might have been doing during this time? (Do you think it might work for a fic?)

Sorry if this is a dumb question! Thank you!!

Hi nonnie! This is not a dumb question at all. In fact, it's so great that I made you a gif set to go with my answer!

This is the series canon about the time between Nicki and Louis. I know we can't trust everything said in the trial, but for this I think it's okay.

I'll answer below the cut.

First, let me say that I am honored and flattered that you came to me about this. If you want to DM me, feel free. If you want to come back as anon you can have 🖋 anon if you want it.

Second, even a 2 year gap is lot of time to work with. We know he would need to feed as soon as he wakes up and he's a non-discriminating slut, so I know he would have some fun even if he's still brokenhearted. I think you could do so much in that time! Whether or not you decide to write smut, you could certainly give him a meaningful interaction with reader. You didn't mention if your idea for your reader was human or vampire, either could work, but my brain immediately went to "Lestat's hungry after his nap so he's probably killing a lot, what if he met a non-coven vampire in the French countryside?"

My nerd brain also had the idea that you could see what ports were most commonly used for passage from France to the US in 1908-1910 and I'm pretty sure the main one is in the south of France (used by the US military in WWI and WWII but I can't think of the name right now). Crap, I had to google it because that was going to bug me. LoL Saint-Nazaire, France. Double check that if you decide to go this direction, but it's about 470 km (292 miles) south of Paris by modern roads. There's a lot territory for him to cover if he used that port.

If that doesn't interest you, please disregard! I just wanted to point out that you have a lot to work with even if it's "only" two years between his sleep and New Orleans.

Lastly, without finding a definitive timeline of Lestat for the series yet, I'm thinking he was turned in the 1760s (or around there). If someone has a better timeline that would be great, but seasons one and two haven't given us exact dates that I can find. Anyway, if future seasons follow his plot pretty closely then you might have some of his time between his turning and when he meets Armand (yes, Nicki is in Paris but we don't have to headcanon monogamy if we don't want to and he is canonically often non-monogamous). Lestat as a horny, awe-struck fledgling might be fascinating!

I can't wait to read what you decide to do! You don't have to come off anon to tag me in it unless you want to. I would love that, but maybe I'll come across it when/if you post it!

I think this is going to be great and feel free to come back and discuss this more if you would like!

[readypanda]

Indigo Park Spoilers (and very long post) ahead

Since Indigo Park is the newest fandom I've been dipping into, I figured I might as well make my own analysis for the game. The question I'll be discussing today is,

WHAT EVEN ARE THESE THINGS?

(sry for bad picture quality lol)

The thing I find interesting about these mascots (Molly, Lloyd, and what we've seen of Finley) that kind of sets them apart from other monsters in the mascot horror genre is...they almost seem like they're just animals. (I'll go over evidence for this in this post)

Think about it. In other mascot horror games, we've gotten:

animatronics possessed by dead children

employees/kids surgically(?) turned into toys

people mutated by a giant ink machine

animals/people who have had their DNA spliced with a mutagenic chemical

A little girl somehow turned into a monster (I think??)(really sorry Amanda I don't know what you are)

etc.

(I'm not up to date on all these properties and I know there's many more, so forgive me if my lore understanding is less than adequate. you know how it is with indie horror)

The important note about all these is that for the most part, these mascots are intelligent, or at least have the capability of intelligence. Almost everything on this list was at one point human, in fact.

So why do I think Indigo Park is any different? What leads me to believe they aren't intelligent? (at least, the animal versions of the characters that we run from in the game. Whether they are separate from the versions of the characters Rambley interacts with is something I'll touch on later)

I think the most obvious piece of evidence in regards to Molly and Lloyd (again, not much info on Finley yet) is how Lloyd acts. He doesn't talk at all, he just stalks the main character and attacks like an animal might (with the exception of a couple times he stands on two legs or props himself up here and there).

As for Molly, I hear you saying, "But she talks! We hear her speak!" And yes, dear reader, you are right. Molly does speak. This would disprove my argument of the mascots being purely animalistic, if it weren't for this kill screen.

Now, do we ever actually hear Molly say something that isn't a repetition or couldn't reasonably be a repetition? Has she said anything to prove her intelligence at all? (genuine question here because I haven't examined every one of her voice lines lol. If I'm wrong about this then whoopsie!)

Despite the past 250 words of speculation, though, whether they act just like animals isn't actually that important. We'll see more of them in later chapters anyway (or Lloyd and Finley at least) so that will likely prove or disprove this point with time.

The more interesting question is, what are they? Like, physically?

When Molly dies, we clearly see blood around her decapitated head. At the very least that rules out animatronics or something mechanical. In addition, in the audio of the hidden tape you get when you show Rambley one of the collectables, you can hear two staff members complaining about being replaced by "new mascots" right after they "got a new raccoon costume." This could mean a few different things, but it seems to imply that the mascots we see in this chapter are meant to be replacements for actors in suits (for meet and greets, promotion, shows, etc) and/or replacements for limited, expensive, and cumbersome animatronics. If this is true, we can also probably rule out them being human. Unless Indigo Park also had a secret human experimentation lab, which I wouldn't put past them.

I think it's too early to definitively state what these mascots are, but based on the evidence of above, I have a theory.

My personal theory is that these mascots are just animals who have been changed or mutated in some way to allow the park to have more "realistic" representations of the characters (also probably to cut down on the costs of paying a human employee). That would explain why they act the way they do and why they are so violent. They literally are just wild animals who have been warped to represent these cartoon characters.

Another important caveat to this theory is that, if this is true, then the mascots who attack us in the game are most likely NOT Rambley's "friends" as he knows them. That would explain why he doesn't call attention to Molly chasing us or Molly's dead body (with the exception of one very small reaction when he talks about the mascots). You would expect him to seem a little more upset if he thought that was his friend, but maybe on some level he knows it's not really her, just a representation of her.

That brings up another question, which is a can of worms I won't fully open here: Do Molly, Lloyd, and Finley have sentient "AI" equivalents like Rambley? If not, does Rambley know his friends aren't real? I'll let you decide.

Anyway, that just about closes my thoughts on this silly raccoon game. Thanks for letting me ramble on about it, and thanks for making it to the end of the post!

Lemme know about your own theories in regards to what these things are, or if there's any key evidence I missed. Kinda threw this together lol. Most of it will likely get disproven by future chapters but hey, thus is the price of theorizing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[eveandtheturtles]

Dating Advice

Ship: Leo X Reader

A/N: Leo can't catch a break it seems lol I am going to continue bully him for a lil bit more. With the help of his fam ;)

Tagging: @madammuffins @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch

Anyone else want in let me know!

Recently Leo has been a bit antsy. A bit more... jumpy? But only in the presence of one person.

April noted his behaviour as you left the lair and immediately pulled him aside.

"Okay, spill." She sat him down in the kitchen and gave him her best 'big sis time' look.

"I- don't know what you mean," he said slowly, clearing his throat and looking away. "Now if you excuse me-" he started getting up.

"Sit," she ordered and he sat back down. "Come on Leo," she softened her tone. "I want to help."

He sighed heavily and tapped his finger over the table. "Fine," he sighed, finally giving in. "It's- well,... How do you ask somebody out? Asking for a friend."

April smiled and was about to answer when as if summoned Mikey popped up behind them.

"Who is asking who out?" He asked.

"No one!" Leo tried to stop the train from crashing but too late.

"I think Leo likes your new friend a little more than 'just friends'," April informed him.

"That's nothing new." Suddenly Donnie spoke up from the coffee spot. He had crawled out of his science cave to inject more caffeine in his blood stream. "You aren't that hard to read Leo," he added seeing the shocked face of his brother.

"Can we stop with the bullying?" The blue masked turtled sighed.

"Who are we bullying?" Raph asked as he emerged freshly post work out with a towel around his neck.

"Leo." All three replied.

The terrapin in question sighed again leaning his head down and rubbing a spot on his forehead. He could feel the headache coming.

"Oh, really?" Raph grinned. "What about?"

"He wants to ask Sweetness out," Mikey informed him.

"I never said I want to! It's for a friend!" Leo protested.

"Really? What is his name?" April asked with a wide grin.

Leo opened and closed his mouth. He then made an undignified noise and slid lower in his chair.

"That's what I thought," she said smugly.

"Bro, you could like make a song for her, chicks are into this kinda thing, right?" Mikey looked at April.

She made an 'eh' face. "Depends."

"Or a poem." Raph placed one hand on Leo's shoulder. "I got one for you bro."

"Don't." Leo glared at him.

"Roses are read, violets are blue." Raph ignored him and continued. "Guess what, my bed has place for two."

"Good one!" Mikey snickered. "How about - twinkle, twinkle little star, we can do it in the car."

The two hollered with laughter, even April had to bite her lips not to join them. Leo was suffering.

"Mikey, if you get anywhere near the turtle tank with that intent I will cut you off the WiFi for life and set your hover board on fire," Donnie spoke up.

"Yes, sir!" Mikey immediately sobered up. Donnie threats were no laughing matter.

"Thank you!" Leo called out, hoping the torment was over. He was wrong.

"That being said -," Donnie took a sip of his coffee and cleared his throat.

"Oh, no." Leo sunk further down.

"Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream," purple terrapin sang. "Merrily, merrily, I can make you scream."

"Oh, my god," Leo groaned. "You are my family, but you are all terrible, you dicks."

"Eh, you love us," April patted his hand.

"Hey guys," you re-entered the lair. "I forgot my bag." You took the scene in and frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Suddenly all the eyes were on Leo and he just wanted to disappear.

"Nope," he jumped out of the chair. "Everything is peachy! Let me walk you home." He rushed to your side and threw a death glare at his snickering family.

You were very confused as Leo escorted you out.

"What was that all about?" You asked. "It looked like you guys were having an intervention," you joked.

"It was nothing, they just thought they were being funny," he huffed.

"Were they giving you shit because you haven't asked me out yet?" You smirked, giving him a side eye.

Leo felt like a scratch record. "What?" He blinked at you, stopping abruptly.

"You aren't that hard to read Leo." You took his hand. "Also I was listening to the whole thing for quite a while. The sewers do carry sounds well."

His heart was about to jump out of his chest. "And um, do you, would you mind if I did?"

"Nope, so come on, shoot your shot." You nudged him gently.

"Alright," he took a deep breath in. Here it goes. He will not mess it up. "Do you take out game?"

Fuck.

"I mean - Will you check me out? No!" He pinched the bridge oh his snout.

You tried so hard not to laugh.

"I can do this," he said probably more to himself than you. "Will you. Go with me. To the Knicks game this Saturday?"

You giggled and stood up on your tip toes giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Yes, with pleasure."

"Great!!" He smiled brightly. "I can pick you up at 6?"

"Sounds perfect. See you then." You gave his hand a squeeze and exited the sewers. A smile never leaving your face.

Once you were gone he fist pumped, excited. You said yes! That was such a relief! He felt so good he was going to clean the dojo!

Figuring out how to prevent his brothers from going to the game was future Leo problem.