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moonlightjeno · 4 years

Text

ten things and then some | l.j

𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 :: jeno x reader 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞 :: based on the poem from 10 things i hate about you if you haven’t watched it fo yourself a favor and go watch the movie bc it’s a m a z i n g. ty 𝕨𝕔 :: 15.5k this is the longest thing i’ve ever written wow. 𝕒/𝕟 :: y’all jeno fits the concept to this p e r f e c t l y, and no i am not being biased :) and a massive massive thank you to @smoljh for helping me and giving me feedback, you’re the sweetest. and ofc to my soulmate girl yk i love you to the moon and back, and i hope you enjoy this piece @mangotexts ( truly the best hype woman anyone could ask for ).

everything in bold is part of the poem, from “10 things i hate about you”

I hate the way you talk to me,

Sweetheart. love. angel. The words that spin from his mouth every time you hear him talk to you, made you aggravated. It was a constant stream of words that had begun as a prick of annoyance. Every time, he opened his mouth, looking at you with his dark brown eyes.

“Earth to y/n” the snapping of fingers disrupts your train of thought, eyes glancing back to the dark-haired boy on the other side of the school grounds, before landing back on your friend.

“What?” the words slip from your mouth with disinterest, a lack of concern for whatever your friend had been rambling on about for the past five minutes. The small amount of conversation you’d registered was she’d been talking about a party that johnny suh, school alumni, and constant talk around school grounds were throwing as a “welcome to the end of high school”. Though as parties went, you were almost sure that it would encompass school graduates, seniors, and the occasional sophomores and freshmen that would manage to sneak their way in, eyes glittering with excitement as they entered their first high school party.

“Are you coming?” her words were drawn out as if she’d ask you five times before, she might have, and it was only now that you had finally heard the question. The question slightly baffles you, because everyone in school knew you didn’t go to parties since freshman year.

“Uh, no. you know what i think of parties, they’re a waste. An excuse for seniors to think they're above everyone else, as they tell off the younger students that they’ve deemed aren’t ‘cool’ or mature enough, while the freshman walks around with some sort of desperate hope in their eyes as if the world will drastically change if they show up at a senior party. Someone should tell them” you say, looking past your friend whose excited smile has dimmed to a small frown, eyes slightly annoyed, something that doesn’t surprise you at this point. It isn’t a secret what you think of parties either, even if you are best friends with the queen of parties herself. You stop yourself before your eyes have a change of drifting to the brown-haired boy with a leather jacket that tends to sit by the foot of the football field, whom you can’t seem to find, probably smoking the thought is bitter and places a scowl on your face before you look back at your friend, “nothing changes''.

“Just once, one time is all i ask of you” the pleas that come from your friend make you focus on her, her hair is loose ruffled by the light wind that has blown over the course of your conversation. It’s almost enough for you to agree to go to the stupid party, when you see her glance towards mark lee, the boy she’s been crushing on for as long as you’ve known her. It hadn’t surprised you, that she’d fallen for him, when you saw him. The boy who made most girls swoon, but who had somehow managed to beat all the stereotypes of “hot” because mark was also talented, more than you’d like to admit when it came to music, he’d helped you a couple of times when you’d been stuck on a composition, always a smile on his face. so when she glanced towards him, the glittering in her eyes and rose tainted cheeks as mark looked back, flashing a small smile, you couldn’t help but give in.

“I’m going to regret this,” you say, the words a mix of a grunt and an exasperated sigh, but your friend is almost jumping up and down, giving you a quick hug and promising that you wouldn’t regret it, not at all, you’d have the greatest time before she was turning around a skip in her step. A smile graces your face at your friend’s happiness, and it remains there unfaltering until you hear “hello love”

Brown hair made its way into your view, as jeno’s face presented itself in front of you, a cocky smile grazing his features that made your smile falter and eventually turn into a scowl.

“What” the word isn’t a question, more like a complaint as you try to turn around and head in the opposite direction, away from jeno and his sweet words. But his voice trails behind you only a couple of steps away before he’s next to you leather jacket glaring against the end of the summer sun, and you wonder only for a second how he isn’t passing out from the heat.

“Oh come on angel, a lil smile wouldn’t kill you” his words are filled with a tone you can only describe as intolerable, making you slightly gag.

“A smile wouldn’t kill me, but i might kill you” you smile at him, a grin adorning your features, “luv” the words that left your mouth are meant to push jeno away and have him leave you alone, but the boy is persistent and though his smirk falters slightly at the glare you give him, the grin is up and running again as he stops in front of you.

“And then who would you have to glare and fight with luv?” the moment the words leave his mouth he turns away, proud of his line. The dumbass, you think, insults quickly forming in your head and ready to be thrown out towards him but your phone pings, and you thumb it open. The message “see you at the party angel” makes your blood boil slightly, but you can’t hide the way your cheeks slightly turn red and the smile that slowly grazes your face before you make a vulgar gesture to the sweet mouthed boy, and turn away.

As much as you hated to admit, you looked forward to the party only just slightly more than you did five minutes ago, the small nicknames swarming around your head.

And the way you cut your hair.

The too-loud music and blinding lights that could be heard and seen from multiple blocks away, and you almost stopped in your tracks, ready to turn around and head back home. But a pull from your friend as she squealed in excitement at maybe having a chance with mark managed to keep your feet moving towards the flashing lights.

Strong alcohol, tequila, or vodka is something you’re hoping they have at the party so that you can attempt to get away from the sex-craved teenagers that are lined up against the walls, pushing against each other. Just walking into the house, and the stench of cigarettes, weed, and sweat floats through the air almost enough to make you gag, as your nose scrunches up at the sight and smell.

Drinks are set far too far from the entrance of the house, the kitchen seems to be miles away not close enough for your liking until you finally reach it. Johnny, black-haired slicked back, the sunflower tattoo on his forearm a stark contrast to the leather jacket he wears and it makes you smile just slightly at the different personalities the dark-haired boy has. Yet you can’t deny his loud and extravagant personality as he talks from person to person whether senior or freshman, making drinks, even if some of the spillover the sides, you sit by one of the stools ready to get a mixed drink of whatever the alumni is able to concoct before getting the courage and energy to head back into the party and socialize with people you really have no interest in socializing.

In the short minute that it takes johnny to get your drink, the lemon drink shot with a strong tequila is set in front of you just as your friend has left you with the only warning being a sharp look, as she smiled to a brown-haired boy that you can only presume to be Mark, by the way, her face flushes, and she takes a swig from the drink in her hand before leaving you, and you yell a sharp “go get em” before gulping down the liquid inside the red solo cup.

Alcohol you’d forgotten burned down your throat, it’s lingering sharp and bitter taste leaving a tang in your mouth as it traveled down your mouth. You forget that the effect of the drink doesn’t come into effect a little later, where you are jumping up and down on the table, dancing from side to side as the music pumps through your blood and body. You won’t be able to tell that it’s the alcohol that you’d sworn you wouldn’t drink unless surrounded by friends, but most definitely not in a social gathering, that makes you jump from table to table and grab other’s next you as you dance with them. Hair slightly plastered to your face from the sweat, and though you’re dancing your words are slightly fuzzy from the multiple drinks you’d had from random tables you’d pass by.

A sharp tug and pull gets you off the current table and you begin to complain, wanting to continue to let loose to the rhythm of some constant beat song that sounds all too vaguely familiar to your ears, but the arms that are wrapped around you feel oddly warm and comfortable and the protest die slightly on your lips as you turn around to see who’s holding onto you.

Dark brown hair, almost black frames the boy’s face perfectly and you want to run your fingers through it. Some sense of longing for love and being loved passes through you, and now you’ve realized how drunk you truly are as you push down the emotions of attraction to the boy in front of your face showing only the traces of what would be a smile if he wasn’t so concerned for your safety.

“y/n?” the boy asks, and you’re still in a light haze of alcohol that buzzes through your skin and blood making everything fuzzy that you can’t quite picture whose face it is in front of you, whose voice that is soft and gentle towards you and sounds so familiar, to which you only manage to nod your head slightly hair falling in front of your eyes as you smile. It’s small, fluttering, and the boy in front of you smiles too, as he repeats your name, and then the words that leave his mouth make him click into place.

“y/n? Luv? How much have you had?” The word luv, makes you push away from the strong arms that hold you, the classic leather jacket that tends to adorn his body has somehow managed to be wrapped around you, and you realize that you are no longer inside the house with loud music. Instead the music and flashing lights have been replaced by trees and twinkling lights that flash in the dark sky and the distant background of loud music that is too low for your ears to register anything more than a constant drone. Your smile has been replaced by a scowl, and you grunt at the jacket you’re wearing, hating to admit that it’s warm and comforting. You try to speak, the words a slur before you hurl, holding onto your stomach as the content of your lunch and too much alcohol are spilled on the grass floor in front of you.

The acid from your stomach burns your tongue, a bitter taste seems to linger even as you chug down the water that jeno offers you, a small smile gracing his features. And you blame the alcohol, but you smile back at him, and can’t think that maybe he isn’t as bad as you thought he was. You can’t shake the feeling of his hand wrapped around your waist, another holding up your hair as you hurled, and coughed no mocking grin or satisfactory smirk making their way onto his face. Instead a small smile was present, his dark hair that you finally admitted to yourself, made him look hot, was tousled and messy by the wind and it looked cute.

You blame the day’s events and the words that were thrown at you at the beginning of the party making you head straight to the intoxicating drinks. You blame the chemicals that are still in your system, as you sit on the grass dragging jeno to sit next to you, hand intertwined with his. The grass that is cool against your touch, making your skin feel less hot, less sticky, and more conscious. You blame the alcohol and everything it changes in your core, for letting you lean your head against jeno’s shoulder, as his arm wraps around your shoulders pulling you in only slightly, scared to scare you away. You most definitely blame the alcohol as the words that fall from your mouth as you hold onto jeno’s calloused hand.

“I like it” the words are a mumble, whispered into the night air, and it causes jeno to turn just slightly his lips almost touching the crown of your head, “like what?” he whispers back, and you can almost swear a small kiss is placed on the crown of your head.

“Luv”

I hate the way you drive my car.

It seems that the stars want you to hate jeno more than you already do, as he half carries you half drags you to your parked car. The moon shines on the car surfaces mixing in with the dull yellow lights from the evenly spaced streetlights. You wished that you could walk straight, but you still stumble a little, your steps not sturdy until jeno has placed his arm around your waist lifting you up, that you manage to walk to the old vintage car that is parked under one of the dimmed out streetlights.

The sequence of opening the door and you get inside the car occurs in a slight blur, but you find yourself on the passenger seat, head resting against the cool window that makes you jump slightly from the contact. It isn’t until you turn your head as the engine roars to life underneath you that you see jeno by the wheel, adjusting the rear view mirrors to his height and gripping the steering wheel.

Time seemed to stop as you lay in the grass, head tucked in between jeno’s shoulder and his head. It stopped when the last words that had left your mouth had made jeno’s smile widen and his eyes match the moon that shone brightly above the two of you. The droning music has stopped, flashing lights no longer as constant as they were when you had first dragged jeno into the cool grass. In that position did you two lay for hours, a comfortable understanding and silence settling between the two of you until your breaths became constant and your eyes had begun to droop threatening to close that jeno shook you lightly. The only response he got was a small humm that you were still awake, as he pulled you up and started to make your way to the car. Something that seemed almost impossible as jeno had absolutely no idea where the fuck your car was and you didn’t seem to quite remember in your hald drunken half sober very much about to fall asleep state.

Jeno could have almost jumped from joy when he’d seen your eyes brighten up at the sight of a beat-up old red mustang, and you pointed towards it. The moment he had opened the passenger door you had climbed inside curling up next to the door like a cat, and he couldn’t help but think that you were adorable, even when you snapped at him for taking your keys. It was a different side of you that he’d never seen, and he doubted many people did see. One where you weren’t putting on a sort of facade of hating everything around you, but instead you let your eyes relax holding a sort of brightness and glow jeno hadn’t seen before but now couldn’t stop himself from looking at. Stop, jeno scolded himself as he turned to look at the road, car roaring to life.

“Nu-uh” you grunted at seeing jeno aggressively change gears, “stop being so aggressive,” you say as you sit up. The smile that adorned jeno’s face turns into a grin, as he continues to aggressively switch gears as he turns the corner, and you regret ever thinking he was kind.

“My car doesn’t deserve this” you grunt out, and jeno chuckles looking at you from the side, and he loosens his grip slightly on the gear stick.

“You mean my presence? I’m gonna have to agree, sweetheart” you’re not sure if it’s the light trace of chemicals that still surround your brain, or if you’ve really wanted to do this for a while but you don’t stop your fist as it punches jeno in the arm.

“The fuck” leaves jeno’s lips, as he rubs his arm where you’d hit him and you do a little dance on your seat, “don’t hurt my car dumbass” is your only answer before you continue to laugh at the face of confusion and mocked hurt that jeno fakes.

Your laugh rings around the car, and echoes through the street, as the windows at some point where rolled down. The way jeno looks confused makes you laugh harder, and he turns just slightly, his eyes narrow and eyebrows slightly scrunches, and he looks like a confused dog. Alcohol might have made you hit him, but you can’t fathom why you would be laughing at jeno, no not at him but with him as his laugh has joined yours as he drives the car down the street. The ridiculousness of the night catches up with, making you hold onto your stomach as jeno parks into your driveway smile never faltering.

From the way, both of your eyes shine from joy and amusement one could almost swear that the two of you were friends, almost lovers by the way jeno looked at you. But no one was looking at two in the morning, and no one can be there to tell you that the way you two look at each other is in a new way. No gazes filled with mocked sympathy or non-wanted flirtatious remarks, instead, you two seem to gaze into each other’s eyes for what seems too long if it weren’t that neither of you seemed to mind.

And because you are still slightly tipsy, and the stars and moon make jeno look like some sort of angel as his hair is illuminated by a white light, that lights up his face making his eyes a warmer brown that they usually are that you think about opening up yourself to him. Maybe he isn’t as bad as you think, maybe just maybe the nicknames he gives you make you feel a flutter because he could be someone to trust.

Possibilities for the maybes and wants to fill your head, and you don’t realize your eyes have fluttered shut and you are leaning in only slightly a sway towards where jeno is until you feel his hand on your shoulder stopping you, a pitiful gaze grazes his features and you are almost sure you want to go crawl in a hole. Instead, you push him back, opening the car door and slamming it behind you, chin held up as you walk back towards your house, the water in your eyes threatening to spill. But you manage to make it, as you walk into your house, and slam the door behind you the words “maybe not now” replaying in your head, because why the fuck would he actually like you.

You don’t notice when you go to sleep music blasting from your headphones that you’ve wrapped yourself in the leather jacket that smells slightly of cat and boy, the lingering stench of cigarettes and fire from the jacket given to you by the boy who had managed to hold your heart for only a second.

I hate it when you stare.

in and out. Your breaths match the classes metronome, a constant beat to keep your breaths even and focused on whatever the teacher is saying, which happens to be the importance of pentatonic scales when composing a new song. He drones on about the way modern pop music isn’t really music and that the same fours chords and rhythmic patterns are used over and over again with a slight variety to them. You would have looked around the class, taking in the beautiful instruments that are set on display around the class, most of them hanging on hooks and nicks that cause the brass instruments to gleam in the classroom light. Admiring the way the guitars were filed neatly, basses next to them and the small ukuleles that the school's “hipsters” would pretend to play every so often at the talent shows. Some of the guitars and ukuleles were decorated by the art classes, the flowers blooming from one end to the other making it impossible to tell the difference between where the original brandished wood begins and ends. It almost seems at times like the flowers in full bloom are consuming the wood, taking away its air and nutrients that then allow the students to play melodica tunes without the professor yelling at them to tune their instruments. You would be admiring the piano that lay at the front of the class where your professor is currently pacing back and forth, his hands waving in grandiose gestures that make you cough an attempt to hide the rising laughter in your throat. The piano that you’d heard most of the students in the class play and almost lull everyone to tears or sleep depending on who it was, as the keys would rise and fall with each stroke.

Admire. Stare at the instrument you longed to strum and let out the bundle of emotions that were piled up in your stomach, taught and knotted together waiting to be untang;ed by the strum and finger pattern of the acoustic guitar. That’s what you would be doing if you weren’t slightly interested in the way that your professor was taking down and criticizing modern day music which you could only nod your head too, agreeing with most of his points. The rest of your class seemed to be disgusted, their faces shriveling and eyes rolling to the back of their heads.

“Well yeah, music today doesn’t, well shouldn’t really constitute for “real” music. It shouldn’t be dictated by a constant talk of sex and the drugs, what about the power in music? The way that it is in itself a universal language?” you speak out of turn, your arm coming down slightly aching from having to hold it up for so long with no acknowledgment. The moment you speak you can almost feel the class sigh and grunt, their heads dropping slightly.

“Now miss y/n” his voice is grainy and unpleasant, but you nod, eyes defiant at whatever critique will come your way even if you just agreed with your professors point of view, “did i ask for your opinion on the universal language and power it has on your feelings”

“Well no but-”

“No buts” you want to roll your eyes and flip him off, and decide to do both as you sigh, “not like you’d understand what that is” you mumble loud enough for your the boy at your right to hear you and his mouth falls slightly open, and you roll your eyes flipping him off as he turns around facing the scribbled blackboard.

You can feel eyes staring at you, analyzing the way you bite onto the top of your pen or how you doodle across the margin of your paper, random notes and lyrics that pop into your head as your professor drones on and on about the theory of music. It’s a pity you think that it’s those eyes that make you want to stand up and hit someone, those eyes that seem to want to dig a whole through your brain are what cause the feeling of uneasiness in your stomach every-time you turn around.

in and out. The metronome beeps constant again, and you loosen the grip on your pencil. Turning around slowly before locking gaze with jeno, who seems startled, you turned around and looked at him in the first place. Replaced is the mocking grin by a sheepish smile, and you can almost swear there’s a speck of guilt in his brown eyes as he looks at you with a small pleading look until you flip him off, mouthing the words “fuck you” into the air. But he seems to register them as he breaks the contact, eyes darkening and head bowing down just slightly, making a small smile graces your features.

Tick tick tick - ring. The bell goes off and you can’t seem to get up and out of your seat quick enough, following pursuit of the other students that have already packed and are counting down the seconds until class is over. You’re almost at the door, fingers stretching to reach the handle when you feel a light tap on your shoulder, a brush of your hair to the side, as you swirl around. You bite down the curse that is about to slip through your lips as your professor stands in front of you an amused smile on his face as he tells you that even though you’re an exemplary student you should tone down on the whole “power to the people” role you hold and you have to stop yourself from turning around and walking away. “Uh sure…” you are ready to leave, feet beginning to turn but your professor isn’t done and he holds you back telling you about the inconveniences of being a teacher at this day and age and you wonder what the man had wanted to be if not a teacher but the question and pity are quickly erased when he tells you that you about the end of the year assignment, “a project of sorts” he drawls, one hand stroking the light beard that sticks in odd patchy places around his face. “that will test what you’ve learned this year” you say nothing, waiting for what the punch the goal of the assignment is, “a song based off shakespeare’s sonnets”

You don’t have time to clap and jump from joy at the assignment and thank your professor before the fire alarm goes off and you are walking towards the football field. You don’t have the time to register the way people are looking at you, the way jeno is staring at you with a goofy smile and hopeful eyes as the intro chords play to i.f.l.y by bazzi and he gazes towards the crows that has gathered around him, eyes finding yours.

I hate your big dumb combat boots,

The clunk of boots against the aluminium causes the bleachers to shake slightly, a vibration of clashing echoing through the field as it mixes in with jeno’s voice. The dark haired boy that scares the school away on most days bounces along from one side of the bleachers to the other.

You can feel the warmth spread to your cheeks, the heat spreading through your body and you shake your head slightly at whatever is going because you truly aren’t quite sure. The only thing you know is that it seems to be the whole school’s eyes are darting from you to jeno, who can’t seem to take his eyes off even as he jumps from one row of bleachers to the next the microphone on his hand a he raps along to the lyrics to the song. Lyrics that sound as familiar as a midnight drive and cooling moonlit fields.

The way he conveys the words and raps is not something you hadn’t heard before, you’d heard him speak his poems to you that late night in the midst of summer heat when you had been in a need of escape from the world that surrounded you. The summer heat had been too much, too suffocating that in a whim you’d driven to the highest point in the city. City skyline had been laid before you, the hues of the city changing as the sun slowly dipped itself over the buildings, and it seemed to want to disappear like you did. Slowly, leaving a mark in the world as it reached past the buildings and water that lay far beyond the city, stretching it’s red flames that would slowly flicker and turn into different hues of pink and purple. It was mesmerizing, a way to get away as the sun went down and the moon shone brighter than the city lights, no amount of light pollution that littered the air enough to you were in your own world. Your mind travelled to that safe and peaceful place that would only come out when you were surrounded by the twinkle of stars that seemed to flicker hope, while the moon remained a constant reminder of the light in the darkness. That is until the crunch of leaves behind you, a sign of the coming autumn disturbed you from your silent peace.

Moonlight shone on black boots, the combat boots seemed to dull the moonlight, taking away all it’s light by absorbing it as it crunched the leaves underneath them and stopped in front of you. Eyes landed on a hooded figure, their black hoodie being slightly too big, as it drooped over their frame, reaching slightly past their hip, where you could see the tears in the boys jeans, and you hated to admit that the outfit wasn’t bad. The boy’s face wasn’t visible from the shadows caused by the moonlight, but it wasn’t that it mattered as you went back to looking at the city below you, waiting for the boy in front of you to sit down next to you. It would have normally bothered you to be disturbed in what you had claimed to be your “spot” but maybe it was the way the boy held his head down, or the way the stars shone and illuminated portions of his face, maybe it was just that there was a mutual understanding between the two people that had seeked comfort in the middle of the night underneath the stars. For whatever the reason, you stayed next to each other not touching, not leaning against each other but there was a sense of comfort by each other’s presence and a mutual knowledge of what each wanted. The silence was one of comfort, a blanket that seemed to surround the field that two of you sat in, and when the boy with the worn out combat boots began to speak, a light melody and rhythm to his words all you could do was nod along and enjoy the melodic and soothing sound of his voice. His words shocked you, reaching somewhere inside of you that seemed to be dormant for a long long time.

“Summer’s been lonely, time seems wasted and passing. But when the stars shine, and the sun goes, Summer becomes a lil less lonely Little less wasted Because when i'm with you Time’s gonna stop”

You couldn’t help but feel drawn to the warm voice that rapped next to, as he talked about lost time and love that seems to be a long lasting one that makes you feel like you’re gonna burst from everything that you feel for them only for them to leave in a quick second. And though you don’t know the boy next to you, you don't know his story, you don’t know why he decided on this very day much like you too climb to the top of the hill and admire the busy world from afar, you know the melody. The song that follows his heart, it’s something out of a movie you think, the way the two of you met, lost souls finding themselves by watching everything around them fade into the dark. You don’t know each other but you do, you know the way his song goes and it’s an understanding beyond words beyond actions as the two of you sit next to each other, hours passed midnight a boy with combat boots that crunch through leaves and a voice with thoughts that seem to connect to everything around you, and you. A lost soul with music in heart, that sways and calms down in the brightening moon of the night, as you give each other mutual company in a field of moonlit flowers, and blinking concrete.

Jeno has made his way down the bleachers, his cheeks are red and you can’t help but feel amused and honored. Because as much as he annoys you and makes you want to hit something you can’t deny the way your heart flutters when he smiles at you as he is doing right now, steps bringing you closer and closer to you, his warned out combat boots make you laugh because you’d never seen him wear anything else. You can feel the anger fade away from the week, anger at him for embarrassing you, anger for not feeling loved like you wanted to be loved, but there was a sort of bond that was formed when the school's resident bad boy decides to sing a love song to someone he’s hurt and cares for. There’s something vulnerable by the way he looks at you, a light in his eyes and embarrassment and all of a sudden he’s in front of you. Faces only centimeters away, his breaths fanning your face slightly, their heavy and uneven but he’s smiling tune slightly off-key as he sings the last verse.

“So I guess what i'm saying” the mic is lowered, and the space between the two becomes your own world. No longer are aware of the hundreds of teenagers surrounding you, some of the whistling others video taping.

“I guess what i'm saying” you hum back, smiles adorning both of your faces,

“I fucking love you”

And the way you read my mind.

It seemed as if the world had suddenly shifted. No longer where you are grounded on earth, goals set to go to the other side of the world away from your family, instead you feel alleviated. Where the ground used to be now there was air, a lightness to your movements and words that weren’t there before. It isn’t that the world suddenly changed, the clouds didn’t suddenly become more bright, the world didn’t suddenly become a bright ball of colors and sunshine.

Falling for someone was based upon the little moments spent together. The way the world seemed to feel a little less heavy, a little less lonely when brown eyes would meet yours, greeting you with a lopsided smile. You had read in books that falling was like falling asleep, slowly and then so quickly that you didn’t even notice the way your heart would take skips when hand touched hand, calloused fingers from constant strumming of a guitar, grazing yours. They say it’s supposed to be too fast for you to notice, as if you were in a dream state that you had fallen into and slowly when your heart is shattered or turned over do you wake up from the dream-like state wishing you had stayed in it. In your opinion falling was neither of those, and it was both.

Falling was being dragged out of an arena, filled with a whole school student body, where laughter trailed behind you as the boy with worn out combat boots took you to the place you first met. It was the way his eyes would light up their dark brown becoming a lighter color, almost matching his honey colored hair when the sun would hit him from behind, when he looked at you while you talked about the project you were working on. Falling seemed to be the way that the first sentences after the boy sang bazzi’s confession song was a banter over why the song was chosen, you two debating which of his songs was better, an ongoing debate whether smile or i.f.l.y was a better show of emotion. The argument lasted the whole car ride, you drove and it hadn’t taken much convincing after you threatened to keep his leather jacket, that you had shoved back at him only previously that morning. It was only a matter of seconds after that conversation, that jeno pride smile on his face opened the passenger's seat to the beat up mustang and let you slightly, well more like lecture him on how to be gentle on the old car. If jeno would have been tested on the way that your hands would flit back and forth, moving from side to side and up and down making grand gestures and soft ones in order to justify and further prove your point, jeno was sure he would ace the test. But if it came to what you were talking about, how he shouldn’t force the car to change gears or how one button should be pressed before the other he would have passed, he loved hearing you talk passionately about anything and as much as he loved to get on your nerves to see you get flustered cheeks growing slightly red, but would have failed on purpose just for you to smack him in the arm. The punch, which he would never admit kinda hurt the first time you’d hit him what seemed like ages ago, but was really only a season ago, had softened and felt now more like a “you’re stupid but i don’t mind it”, it made him smile. Banter that flitted back and forth between the two of you, constant little arguments that weren’t truly arguments but more of a facade at the emotions and hidden feelings that grew between the two of you.

The coming winter air was sharp against your ungloved hand, making you shake it up and down, which only caused jeno to look at you with a confused look.

“You know luv” the nickname no longer made your blood boil, and you’d finally admitted to yourself that it made you feel warm, “there are pockets for a reason” he put his own hands in the stitched pockets of his leather jacket for emphasis, and you huffed.

“And then how would i be able to carry this?” you lifted your hand, the what had been hot chocolate was now cold all thanks to the new barista at the cafe, jungwoo you think his name was. Your fingers that had seeped up all the warmth they could get from the previously steaming cup of hot chocolate were now pink at the ends, the cold biting into them, and you slightly shook from the cold air you hadn’t been ready for these type of temperature when jeno had sent you a message this morning, the contact “soft bad boy” appearing repeatedly in your phone, with the vague instructions to get ready to go out in the span of fifteen minutes, he’s been by your door in fifteen minutes leading you to your car where he opened the driver's seat for you as he headed into the passenger. It had taken you arriving at the snow covered school to realize where jeno was taking you, and when you had realized it was the school protests were coming. Questions such as “jeno? It’s winter break, why the fuck are we in school?” and “fuck it’s cold”, or jeno’s favorite which you were almost sure he would forever tease you about, “my hands weren’t made for this” you’d been talking about the numbing of feeling in your thumbs when you had been holding the chocolate, keys, phone and wallet in your hands because your jeans had been made without proper pockets. Fuck the patriarchy you hat thought. Jeno has heard the whole situation out of context, and has made it his life goal to tease you on and on about your small hands. It was torture.

“You could ask for help?” his little bow almost made you laugh, but you rolled your eyes pride getting in front of his help

“And hear you brag about how you don’t feel the cold” you sigh, changing the drink from one hand to the next letting the pocket in your hoodie heat up your hand slightly, “no thank you”. The next thing you know though, is jeno’s jacket is placed around your shoulders, their warmth heating up your bones, and his hands are wrapped around yours, “no, i’d just do this” his voice is next to you, breath stirring the hairs at your ears, warmth sweeps through your body, by the contact his skin makes with yours, and for a second you want to turn around and kiss him. You want to know what it’s like to kiss his lips that seem so soft, want to know what it feels like to wrap your arms around his neck while you kiss him, and play with the black strands of hair at the back of his neck. The feeling doesn’t leave as much as you try to push it away, as jeno holds your hands and drags you towards the school gate, and into the music room.

Falling is about the invisible things. Falling is noticing the way he can read your mind like no one else can, falling is making dumb jokes at each other smiles on both of your faces, it is the way you seem to have conversations about what you want from the world at two am and still poke fun at each other in a passing by through school. Falling you think you finally understand, isn’t singing i.f.l.y by bazzi in front of the whole student body because you don’t want someone to be mad at you, no. falling is the way from summer to fall to winter you get to know each other, until your hearts seem to be in-sync with each other, as jeno who fiddles with the rings on his fingers tells you to sit down on a chair in the music room. It is the way he picks up the guitar your breath catches on everytime you see it, the flowers swallowing and making the wood more vibrant than it was, and looks at you in the eyes. Falling is how his hands tremble slightly when he begins to strum the guitar, and his husky voice fills the empty room, as he sings about the way you make him feel less alone, and part of the universe.

But there’s a thing about falling, there’s the way that you can feel your eyes tear up when he finishes a goofy smile plastered on his face, the last g chord ringing throughout the room and into the hallways. When you fall, you can never tell when the bottom hits, you can never be prepared for the way the ground lurches before you, a slap in the face, right as you let go of the moon boy in front of you breaths still a little uneven from the shared kiss, which made a star fall seem small. Once that rock bottom is hit, the world falls back into place and you aren’t held at freefall, when you hear the “click” and whoops and yells from the hallway and you try to ignore the invasion trying to take in the boy in front of you, until your phone dings and then so does his. A new text message from an unknown contact, with a photo image attached,

“Turns out the bad boy took the bet after all, and y/n isn’t as cold hearted as they seem”

I hate you so much it makes me sick;

Crashing, falling and burning. Emotions that seem to curse through you days, a weeks later after the text is sent, the one that follows is worse.

“Turns out, jeno was being paid all along to make cold-hearted y/n to fall for him. If you don't trust us, ask him” you knew the message was a taunt, a test to see if you would break but you’d plummeted down down down, and the way jeno’s eyes had shuttered and the light was no longer the way gave you the answer you wanted.

A breaking point is what they call you’ve heard when one can no longer hold in the anger or sadness or any sort of emotion that seems to be too much. The breaking point that causes one to lose control over their actions, or thoughts because things you thought to be true, are flipped on their side, and the worst part is you wanted yourself not fall for the boy with the easy smile that shone like the moon, and sweet words that made your blood boil and melt all at once.

Sick, that’s how you felt when you pushed him away, leather jacket dropping with a heavy thud onto the wooden floor. A twisting and turning of emotions rammed through you, anger coming out strong as you shoved him away again before walking out of the room, leaving jeno mouth wide open as if he’d wanted to say something, hands clenching and unclenching as if he’d grabbed onto to you or hadn’t let you check your phone it would change the world worked. The light that had shone in his eyes left, it seemed to be squashed out by the water that threatened to escape because it was true, he had been paid. It isn’t something that made him particularly, it wasn’t that he wasn’t intrigued by you, from the night you two first met all those months ago under the moonlight.

Payment, green paper that would be slipped into his hand by haechan, a fellow senior he barely knew apart from the school’s biggest flirt accompanied by na jaemin, he did wonder at times how they weren’t at each other’s throats most of the time, but substantially he truly didn’t care. It didn’t matter to him the more he got to know you, the more he held your hand and felt the way his heart would swell and at times skip a beat or two, maybe even three if you looked at him with light in your eyes, laughter ringing in his ears from a joke he had said.

The first time he’d been offered the paper, fifty bucks to see if the cold hearted bitch that everyone seemed to fear was capable of giving her heart to someone, he had denied because as much as the world thought of him as a cold hearted human being he truly just didn’t want to be bothered or be torn apart from his music and dance. The second time haechan offered, he accepted on a whim. There had been a sort of argument in music class, you leading the conversation against something he couldn’t quite remember but he remembered you taking down student after student, a defiant look in your eyes as you gave point after point on what you believed was right. He had accepted, because seeing you standing on top of your chair, passion driving you away from the textbook and to speak clearly voice ringing through the room, made him wonder if it was even possible and if he gave up with what he thought was to be your overly cold demour then at least he's earned some money and the freshman that had walked up to him that morning telling him about the plan they’d set up would work. The plan chenle, a boy who was taller than him, but a freshman nonetheless broke it down in simple steps, it was entertaining to say the least, the way he discussed how he would get his new found jisung to go out with your sister, but that would only be possible if you would date. If he wanted to lie to himself, he would say that he accepted the deal because he wanted to help the kids out, but he was never one to not follow the truth. But now, his hands feel cold and empty, lips still feeling the ghost of yours against his, and he remembers a quote he read not long ago on the story of how the sun died everyday in order to let the moon live at night.

Jeno is sure that he should be the sun that should die, not because the sun was where the world gravitated towards but because you were the moon. The moon that seemed to hold him together and stand by him even after the lies that are spun about his background at school so when you walk out the door, and he sees the tear’s shining beneath the classroom lights he knows he’s lost. If only you knew that he had stopped taking any sort of money the moment he caught feelings, if you only knew the money that he’d earned had gone to help his fostered cats that hung out by his house every now and then. But even if you did now it didn’t make him any better than Haechan who had sent out the text message, informing the world about the stupidities and decisions he made and had regretted two weeks later when you had scolded him about how to drive your car.

Sick. From your stomach to your head a loud and never ending thump went on and on like the metronome in the music room all those weeks ago. The headache seemed mocking of your developed feelings for jeno, and you could feel your heart twist into itself, as you went over the events of the last few months. What was real, what was done as an act, you didn;t know but you hated it. You hated the way he made you feel, hated the way one text one yes or luv had led you into this snowball and fall that had hit harder than you’d ever wanted it. You hated him so much, it made you sick.

It even makes me rhyme.

Melodies follow structured patterns, like the rhythm to a song and the lyrics that accompany it, never missing a beat a simple dun dun dun that tends to lead people into a dance like trance. Yet that was the problem with melodies, it was the way that they held onto certain chords, following the same stroke of keys the same vocal riff or bass slap that would drive you insane but would also drive modern days love songs whether they dealt with the infatuation that was love or the consequences of that love which lead to the inevitable heartbreak all followed the same sort of patterns and lines.

Rhyming, that’s what you did as you recited the end of the year Shakespeare inspired song. A mixture of words with similar sounding words with the same syllables, like car and stare or hate and fate a juxtaposition between the two. Rhymes where everything you tended to avoid, the stereotypical and overused notes digging into your brain, playing and replaying over and over but you didn’t care anymore, as you recited the scribbled lines on the old piece of notebook paper. Some of the yellow had faded from the drops of tears that had dropped weeks ago, as your mind thought of jeno, his smile no longer the same comfort it held when he drove you out to the beach and led you late at night to admire the stars and watch the sunset. Some of the blue ink bleeding through, making smudges across the paper you were to run in, the doodles that had been scratched and re-drawn only to be scratched and drawn in different shapes the notes written down almost everywhere except in the five bar staff that was supposed to hold the notes.

The shaky breath you let out helps you calm down as you look out into the pinned up pictures of the bedroom wall and the view that gives out to the dying sun set out in the horizon making space for the ever present and shining moon in the blue now purple and lilac sky. Hands grip at the paper, making it crinkle slightly at the force being used, and you read halfway through the lines you can’t fully get through before tears begin to spring up at your eyes.

I hate it, i hate the way you’re always right. I hate it when you lie.

The words feel raw, and posion, vile seems to rise up at your throat the further you go down, and thought the tears don’t fall heavily they steam. A dashing race down your cheeks and back into the yellow notebook paper, as if they were being recycled. The words on the page breaking you, the emotions a sway of everything they say you aren’t, written by you to the boy who shared his heart and then stole it taking it far far away. Salty water drops onto the paper, until they dry up and then they fall again the next time you read them, and you read them and fix them and read them again rhymes embedded into your brain until the tears no longer fall and the paper is no longer in crinkles.

I hate it when you make me laugh,

The memory flits back to you when you are met with brown eyes on the first day back from winter break. The air is no longer sharp and threatening to cut into you, but nevertheless you wear your sweater, hoodie slightly up, headphones popped into both ears. You didn't realize the figure in front of you, until you’d bumped into the halfway through a new invented dance move you had decided to create as you bopped and moved to the music that surged through your headphones. The toppling into one another was fast, rushed almost as you collided against each other, a stutter back from both of you before you saw who exactly you had crashed into. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, you should have realized who the boy was from the worn out combat boots that had been dyed black again, and the leather jacket that had a couple of new patches adorning it’s sleeves.

“Sorry” jeno murmurs, but you don’t hear music still flooding in, and you are too focused on the way his eyes shift from your face to your hoodie, and then back to your face not being able to look straight at you, it causes you to scoff. Of course he was able go behind my back, get paid to play with me, and when he gets caught he can’t even look me in the eye, the thoughts are slightly disappointing but not surprising - boys you had learned tended to follow patterns. It isn’t until jeno shifts his focus entirely from you, brown eyes darkening that you are intrigued by the change emotion, guilt and a sort of plead to apologize is wiped from his face and you soon realize the purple haired boy, who couldn’t help himself from laughing at your situation, calling more students to him that had set jeno off.

“If it isn’t the schools biggest joke” haechan’s voice is mocking, and you truly don’t know why the rest of the student body is laughing with him, when there isn’t anything humorous, sadly this is what you expect from the school by this point, it happened in ninth grade there was nothing to say it wouldn’t happen again. You think about ignoring his comments, there truly was no use getting involved, haechan just wanted a reaction, that is until he flaunted his money around, the constant taunt of how you had been manipulated thanks to the douchebag in front of you not leaving your mind for a second and you’d had enough. Haechan or his group of friends couldn’t have stopped you even if they tried, as you walked up to him, hood down, the rings on your fingers shining in the morning sun, as you punched him.

“Bitch!” his voice broke as the word escaped his lips, blood beginning to swell on the side of his face, “i have a photoshoot tomorrow” you punched again in response, this time his lip was cut, and you snickered.

“Hmmmm” you hummed looking at the boy’s eyes, they held anger and a hint of mist that threatened to escape and not being the schools ‘perfect’ boy, “guess they’ll have to find someone else, you know someone that’s actually, how do i say this in the nicest way possible” placing a hand on your chin you pretend to think about it before a grin spreads on your face, “nevermind there isn’t a nice way because you don’t deserve shit. rot in hell fucker” the last word is almost a yell as you’ve turned around and have walked away from the scene, a shit eating grin on your face, at the look of defeat Haechan held.

It isn’t the way Haechan looks at you with disgust, no that gives you some sense of pride by taking him on, it’s the way jeno’s eyes are filled with pride and warmth. A plea to hear him out at least just once, and as much as you try to deny it his eyes take you back to hot chocolates on random days, snowball fights late at night and random drives through the city to calm you down, music blasted through the stereo of your old car. Memories of him being next to you, arms around yours holding onto you as if you would disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. Memories that as much as you wished wouldn’t flood up every time you saw him did and though you kept telling yourself that it was just an act, you can’t help but think that maybe just maybe not all of it was an act. The hope you hold close to your heart, is what leads you to be stuck back in the place that the mess started, stuck inside the music room yet again, jeno hand centimeters away from yours which just gets you to sit far far away from him.

“So…” he starts, fiddling with the bracelets that adorn his wrists.

“So…you gonna say something or can i go because i have class to attend to” the words come out harsh, as your annoyance slightly rises, mixed in with being emotionally exhausted you really weren’t here to sit around the boy who had played with you.

“The cafeteira is having french fries today” the second the words leave jeno’s lips he regrets them, because how stupid is he to start an apology by talking about food, when he looks at you he sees you laughing. Laughing so hard that he manages to walk closer to you so that you are only a couple of feet away from each other, but it isn’t a laugh that fills up the room. Your laugh is dry and humourless, empty and broken, it reminds him of the way one laughs when they have nothing to lose and have given up all hope.

“You know” you start, willing the tears to not fall, your voice to not break because just being in the room with him feels like too much, like one wrong step and the glue that has tapped your heart back together might diffuse into thin air, “for a second, a short second i thought you were gonna say something meaningful” the words are like poison, as you spit them out wanting them to strike and hurt the black haired boy with the perfectly chiseled face to hurt as much as you do, as you begin to head out of the room, the tears threatening to spill again. You’re about to reach the door before you hear your name being called, and you wouldn’t have stopped if it weren’t for the desperation that was laced with his words. If it weren’t for the words that followed your name, “Summer’s been lonely, time seems wasted and passing” the lyrics, the way they roll off his tongue as if he’s heard them a million times catch your breath and make you turn around.

“Stop” you hold your hand out in emphasis, trying to calm your beating heart down, trying to stop the idea that this boy, the one that held your heart and broke it is the same boy that made you feel at peace in a day of chaos, on a midsummer night. But he tries again to talk, a small smile on the ghost of his lips and you have the urge to laugh and smile at him.

“Just stop” you almost plead, and jeno takes a deep breath, waiting for you to continue, “stop because dam you have no right to sing that. You had no right, no right at all to make me laugh like no one else that day and day’s after, you had no right”

Even worse when you make me cry.

Jeno has never been one to convey emotions with words. It was never, his forte as people call it, but in the music room that felt stuffed and almost suffocating he reached for words. Any word that might be sufficient, no, not sufficient, words that would convey his truth. Somehow, some way to get rid of that look of disgust, anger and defeat in your eyes that made his heart ache. He can feel you pull farther and farther away even if you are only a couple of feet away from, a couple of inches until if he held his arm out he could catch your hand in his. There was some part of him that thought the moment you two shared what seemed to be years ago, would help, would stop your eyes from shining every-time a light would hit them, the tears he knew you were holding back, because you weren’t one to cry in front of others threatening to spill. In response, he could feel his heart ache for longer, his hands clam up, eyes look at yours pleadingly.

“I know” his voice is defeated, almost as broken as you feel and the way it still manages to pull at your heart makes you look up at him, willing if only for one second, or to prove yourself that you can listen to him. The pause seems to make the room feel slightly more bearable, less stuffy, a little less suffocating, because two words are more than just an acknowledgement at the past but also at the present and the recent fuck ups. You hear more than see jeno take another shaky breath before he opens his mouth, closes it and opens again, a hand squeezing his eyes shut before he begins.

“I know” the words are repeated again, and you aren’t sure what to make of them but he isn’t done, “i fucked up” you scoff, and jeno has a faint smile, “i know that anything that i say will seriously not make up for anything i did because no one in there right mind would ever accept to what i did. No one who knows you, would ever even consider agreeing to being paid to approach you. No one, because being around you, getting to know you is a gift itself. And yes i did agree at the beginning, it’s a long story” the words become clustered, a mumble and you want to leave again, because they feel like an excuse,

“A long story, that still ended with you winning right?” the words snap from you before you stop them, and jeno is left wordless for a second before his eyes focus in again, mind running at a million, “yes?”

“No. no, i mean no” the sound that escapes from his lips confuses you, it’s a grunt and a sigh but he looks exhausted, “this isn’t going well”

“You think?” The question is more of a fact but that doesn’t stop jeno’s lips twitching slightly upwards, and you're mirroring his. Banter is good? I guess jeno thinks.

“What i mean” he starts again for the uptenth time, “is that the moment i saw you smile, the moment i got to know you, not the cold exterior you present the moment you laughed at something stupid i said, because for some odd reason you seem to find my jokes funny when no one else does. The moment you... i saw you, eyes dazed as they looked at the sky i knew that the whole thing was stupid. And i stopped it, i promised i stopped taking money from haechan the second i knew you because you didn’t deserve that. Does that make me any less of a shitty person? No it really doesn’t” he stops for a second, catching his breath and you're trying your best to not let the tears drop to not scream or yell or hit him over and over again, but he makes it so hard. So fucking hard when his voice and eyes seem to convey everything you need to hear, everything you want to hear, but then the word money is said and you remember what he did and you can feel yourself recoil back, but not before a silent tear slips.

“It doesn’t make me a better person if i had stopped the moment i had accepted the deal because I considered it. But y/n the way I feel about you, the way you manage to center me and be the single thing that keeps me afloat in this hell hole. The way that being next you whether it’s holding your hand that tends to be cold because you hate wearing gloves in winter and rather let them freeze'' another smile, and another tear slips making its way down your cheek, “can make me so happy and completely infatuated to the point i don’t know what to do with myself. It is the way I can feel your body next to mine hours after you’ve gone home from one of our random late night drives, or the way you steal my jacket and then i can feel you with me even when you are in class. It’s the way the stars and moon seemed to align that summer day, when we were both lost and found each other in the same lyrics, the same words and melody that sang to us. So yes, i was so stupid, so dam stupid for ever thinking i could be anything other than a stranger to you, and accepting that. But I can feel the way my heart seems to forget how to beat, anytime you look at me, and you smile, and unlike what the world wants us to believe. You aren’t my sun, or my stars. You are the center of the universe that i stand for, the moon that no matter how much i tried to get away from continues to rise and remain even on the never ending days, because i didn’t mean it all those months ago in the bleachers when i just wanted you to stop being mad at me for being the dumb ass i am, and i will never be the best when it comes to words and emotions luv, but i mean it now. I truly truly am sorry, and -” his voice breaks, and his hands shake, a tear slips from his eyes and you can see it’s reflection by the light.

“St…” you take a breath, the word not leaving your throat, your breaths are shaky and jeno tries to reach out to you, tries to wipe away the silent flow of tears that continues to stream down your face, “stop”. The word finally manage to leave your lips, harsher than you wanted them too but it stops jeno from grabbing your hand, from taking away the warmth of his hand against your cheek, his eyes that had begun to light up slightly to be shut down again, as if someone had doused water on him.

“Luv…” the moment the words leave his lips you know you have to leave, because if he does say those words, the ones you know you’ve been dreading to hear because you feel the same way. Because you have fallen and though you have hit rock bottom, and have been smacked back into reality your heart has never stopped reaching towards his. It doesn’t help, when his eyes look at yours with love, and you want to forgive him, you want everything to be okay, and in order for that to happen you can’t break down in front of him. Slowly do you shake your head, arms wrapping around your body as if they could provide some type of warmth, and heat up your bones, give warmth back into your eyes the way they do when you look at jeno. Which is why you don’t look at him, why you turn away leaving his arm outstretched and hanging. You can feel his eyes trail you, as you open the door the noise of the outside world rushing into the room, startling you for a second, but jeno doesn’t seem to hear it. The only thing he can focus on is you leaving, your footstep getting farther away, and his world becoming a little darker, more grey. The last thing he sees is your - well what used to be his - grey hoodie, the marking of sharpie that have been used to doodle on the piece of clothing one late night, flashing before the wooden door closes shut, surrounding him in a lonely silence again.

I hate it when you’re not around,

The world seems to mock you for falling for lee jeno. The black haired boy seemed to follow you everywhere you went no matter how far away you tried to get away from the memories that plagued you. Days had passed since the world had yet again seemed to shift on its axis, and you had seen jeno less and less, but that didn’t stop your mind from making you remember his laugh anytime you heard a bad joke.

No longer did brown eyes meet yours right after school ended in the cafe next to school, you weren’t greeted by the easy smile, that turned eyes into moons, or called the obnoxious pet names of angel and luv that used to make you want to punch a wall, only for you to find the words to be missing from your everyday life. Moments when the radio would play the song about summer and hazy love would worm their way into your heart, and it was like he was there. Smiling at you, his hand intertwined with yours as you drove your car to the top of the mountain where you first met, and just when the chorus would hit the two of you would belt out the song at the top of your lungs. It was only when the song ended, the melody fading into the back and replaced by the rapid voices of an ad for some car dealership you really didn’t care for, that you would look to find an empty seat beside you. No boy with a leather jacket, and combat boots that might have been propped up on the dashboard much to your protests, instead the seats were either empty and cold with no presence or soul in them, and the car would suddenly feel small and distant.

Other times, the pang of not hearing his laughter diffuse into the air, over your clumsy self either tripping over words or almost falling over due to there being a small rock in the sidewalk. The problem wasn’t that you didn’t have friends. Your best friend, the same one that had dragged you into that party all those months ago, would never miss a beat to be with you, to take you out for a random karaoke night or a late night drive on her car. It wasn’t that you didn’t love them, you loved how they would always make time for the small nuisance you would bother them about, even if it was just to tell them about a new meme you’d found but the way their presence would fill only a small space in your heart made it hard. Especially because you would see how happy they were anytime they talked about Mark, the stories of their lazy dates filled your heart with happiness and joy. It had become a habit to prioritize other’s happiness above your own, and soon it became a habit to prioritize getting jeno out of your memories out of the place in your heart he had seemed to crawl into and not leave.

Memories you come to realize are fleeting, and unpredictable. They are made from what one process to be from the emotions they feel in the current moment that the memory is being stored into your brain. The thing about memories, it’s a thing that they don’t tell you in 12th grade biology class. School or teachers don’t teach you about the different emotions and images that memories bring along with them. The figments that surround every memory you have for the past year seem to somehow always lead back to jeno. He comes when you think about your favorite drink, hot chocolate, and the drink transports you back to jeno bringing you hot chocolate late at night after long after hour practices. His black hair makes a presence, when you think about the essay you had to turn in a week ago, you don’t remember much of the project but your brain, against your conscious will remembers the way jeno’s hair felt through your fingers as you played with his hair one late afternoon. The threads come together slowly, on a random day, in which the sun seems to almost be desperate to stay on the earth’s surface, as it turns the buildings around it into purple hues. It almost seems like it’s gasping for air, and as the purple slowly turns into pink and lastly disappears beyond the horizon it’s last breath taken and long gone you realize something. Like the sun, and the threads that are tied together in order to form memories, in order to form the segments of life that when pieces together form a picture that lets one create the story of a person or a setting, jeno seems to form in front of you. You sit on top of the mountain where you first met, but this time you are alone, the skyline displayed out in front of you. The trees have lost their leaves and some of them even still have some white specks of snow in them, that with one push of wind would make the tremble and shiver, letting go of the white covering.

Jeno is next to you, his hand only a mere centimeter from yours, but you continue to look at the sky, the buildings that go on for as long as you can see. His memory, the way you rest your head on his shoulder and he listens and listens no judgement ever from his eyes, only support and encouragement to let you choose what will make you happy. A memory that repeats over and over again, but that isn’t your favorite memory from jeno. The last memory that forms in your head, after the roadtrips, to sweet make out sessions that led you two to leave whatever homework you had to work on for another time, or the sweet messages left at your phone that would bring a smile to your face even if he just texted you about the weather, to then get a back hug as he called you angel.

Your favorite memory was the day you had been on the exact same spot you where now, except jeno had been next to you, breathing a little harder than normal he had just shown you a dance routine he’s been working on for as long as you could remember. His eyes didn’t shine like they usually did, they didn’t take in the light around him, and his face didn’t have traces of a grin that you had grown so used too. Instead he pushed you away, dark roots from his bleached hair he had decided to try out for the month had begun to show and you could see the stress that seemed to suffocate him. This was a different side of jeno, a side you hadn't seen, one that you tried to approach with a joke, only to be quickly shut down. A small argument over school and life had formed, in which you two had gone from being right next to each other to being feet apart, a scowl on your face, the same one that jeno bore. It was this memory that was your favorite because it had been the first time you had truly seen jeno be vulnerable, it had been the first time from the weeks you had gotten to know each other that you felt that the walls on walls he built around himself, the walls you built around yourself had been torn down. There had been no shared kisses, no shared moments in which one hadn’t jokingly filtered with the other until the first droplet fell down jeno’s face. The only reason you had seen it was because the sun, punctual as always, had descended flickers of light reflecting in his face. It was a small action but enough that there was some part that managed to push aside your pride and you approached him, arms wrapping around his waist. The memory makes you remember that it took him a second to wrap his arms around you, but in that moment, it seemed as only for a second in which you could provide some support for the boy in front of you, then he could give you the support you needed. Threads of the memory are vague, movements in which you can’t fully pinpoint what happened in between or later, in which you know that at one point music had begun to make its way up the mountain from one of the daily parties the teens would throw, but you two held onto each other. The song, isn’t one you can seem to recall, but it wasn’t one that people slow dance too, it wasn’t one in which you are supposed to hold onto the boy in front of you arms around his neck, as his eyes looked into yours, smiles grazing both of your features as your foreheads touched, a small kiss placed on your forehead. Moonlight cascading the both of you, pushing away the shadows that surrounded you both.

It was any memory that you had in which jeno took part, in which you could feel him next to you, that was your favorite. Memories, you remember reading somewhere are your subconscious telling you something, it is the way the body and mind admit what you are too scared to take in for yourself. Memories of jeno next to you, and then not are what make you realize how much you hate not having the black haired boy, with the overly kind personality next to you.

And the fact you didn’t call.

Days turn into months, as the winter snow leaves the tree’s branches leaving them barren. Only for the spring rain and occasional sun to let the leaves and flowers begin to spring back up again. Teachers are at the point in the year whether they aren’t quite sure if they want to give everyone in the class a pass just so they don’t have to hear the constant complaining on the amount of assignments a student has due by tomorrow, or if they’ll give more work, more assessments as a sort of payback for the hardships they’ve had to endure throughout the year.

You are in music class, your professor going over the final assessments guidelines one last time before they are presented at the start of class tomorrow. The weight of the written sonnet feels heavy, and though the physical copy of the assignment is types out neatly somewhere in your computer, the original draft that you had begun to draft all those months ago is crumpled up in your jacket pocket, a constant reminder of everything you want and everything that you feel you can’t have.

If you close your eyes just for a second you can see yourself back in your room, until the space changes and you are no longer in your room but are at the school’s roof. The warm spring breeze tangling your hair, and making the page in front of you flutter. You didn’t need the paper, the lyrics to the musical sonnet that had been shakespeare inspired seemed to be embedded into your brain so that when you weren’t thinking about the thousands of words you still had to write when it came to the labs for biology class, or the analysis of catcher in the rye for english class, the words would replay in your head over and over. The soft melody accompanying them. Humming to the song had become a habit, one that had developed like how one realizes that they bit ethier lip, or thumbs when they are stressed or bored. A habit that once you realize it’s there you can’t help but notice it every time you do it. The notebook paper continues to rustle, and you fold it and place it into the pocket of the black jean jacket, taking a deep breath as you do so. Unlike summer nights and winter afternoons, spring doesn't feel suffocating when the sun is out, because the clouds do a job of covering the sun before it burns your skin. The wind dies down, and you begin to humm to the sonnet, the words so familiar you were almost sure if your memory was to be taken, those words would remain embedded, and make their way back up because they were an acceptance of everything you were and everything you felt.

The final bell has rang, and you can see the swarm of teenage bodies rush out of the school, some go directly to the bus stop in groups, others head to the grass fields that make up most of the school's building. You don’t think much about where others go, don’t dwell much if they get home safely or if their parents will pick them up. Dwelling too much on thoughts a feeling never helped anybody, it’s a mantra that has been drilled into you and almost every other teenager and young adult in this lifetime as movies and books tell you to focus on the present never on the future and most definitely not in the future. Yet you wonder if these books written by great authors that make you question the world around you, or movies that seem to transcend time if the authors themselves that preach about not dwelling too much on one moment if they themselves spent too much time focusing on the sound of their love’s laughter, or the way their nose would scrunch up a reaction to the world around them anytime they found something amusing. You wonder if the person or memory they were told or did think about so much that it caused them heartache had the ability to make them write the poems you had written. So you try to not dwell on the people, no larger than your thumb as they rush from one side of the campus to another, because if you thought about him, it, for too long the memories would rush back in. Instead you look down, the light vertigo causing you to snap back into some realm of reality.

Sitting down on the roof’s edge, legs dangling off the edge you continue to hum and sing to the melody that plays in your heart, confession to yourself, a confession to the dark haired boy that captured your heart. The tears seem to swell up over and over as you reach the bridge, and they stream silently, down your face. They run down landing on your hands, on the ripped jeans and doodle converse. Your mind drifts to the memories connected with the lyrics and the fact that as much as you wanted to not want to hear jeno’s voice especially after you had pushed him away, you couldn’t get rid of the way he knew you. He knew you better than at times you almost thought you knew yourself, it was a nuisance the way your heart would skip beats months after everything went down, how it would still accelerate when you two would make eye contact because he had apologized and you don’t know if it was because you had never felt this way before, or because you two kept meeting underneath the moonlight the same song that seemed to connect the two of in one string of fate that you had forgiven him. But forgiveness didn’t mean forgetting, it didn’t mean that you had wished he’d called and you hate him - or lack thereof to do so - when days passed and the beep boop ba a compilation of random noises jeno would make whenever he was confused, and your ringtone for him didn’t disturb you.

Your voice breaks slightly as the melody in your head falls, fading into a non-existent background. The sun had begun to fall, but you don’t notice, eyes closed as you take in the world around you. Notes ending, song and the hum of love never confessed, never expressed, stolen by the wind. And that’s the thing about having your eyes closed, oblivious to the world and the people around you, because you don’t hear the opening and closing of the slightly rusted door. You don’t notice the boy with a leather jacket, hair almost covering his eyes that are filled with so much love but confusion by the words that leave your mouth. It’s the thing about the wind, that it takes a message and delivers it to whom it wants you unlike a phone call that is directed at who you choose. The wind is a free spirit, and it doesn’t travel far. To be more exact it travels the short span of a mere seconds, a mere feet to jeno whose mouth has fallen at the sound of your voice so raw and pure. It is the wind that calls him to you, the wind that makes him take slow steps to you.

Wind, a warm breeze in the coming summer air, love that you don’t realize you have, you need until it’s wrapping its arms around you.

But mostly i hate the way i don’t hate you.

The moment you feel arms wrapping around you still. Every bone in your body stops moving, your legs stop swinging and your voice catches in your throat. It isn’t until you spot the small cassette tattoo on the wrist of the arms wrapped around you that you breathe again and push yourself back, a curse escaping your lips. Laughter rings in your ears as jeno holds you up from where you sit, and turns you around so that you face him. You begin to push him away, on instinct from weeks of telling yourself that you wanted nothing to do with the boy in front of you. That the way his eyes dimmed, and lips curved down by the light gesture of pushing him away didn’t affect you. It was a mantra, push him away, don’t get hurt, a mantra produced by a time of hurt and fear for being broken again. Something that you had come to realize though in the past week, the past day, past couple of minutes when someone’s arms had warped around you and you had wished it had been jeno, that the heart and the mind don’t always coincide.

It is when you look up again, and jeno is already looking at you, hair illuminated by the descending sun, as it casted flames dancing across his features, and lighting up his eyes, that you smile. Some sort of smile that repairs something in jeno, because his eyes seem to be filled with hope again and he opens his mouth ready to speak, ready to tell you everything he wanted to say again, mostly to apologize but when he opens his mouth the words seem to be caught in his throat. Stuck, as if there was some force pulling them back, not letting them escape and reach you. Mouth opens and closes again, and it’s the sound of your voice as you call to him, and say something he can’t quite process, blocked by the noise that doesn’t leave his head that he can finally speak again.

“June 21” those weren’t supposed to be the words that lef this mouth, and your confused look didn’t give him any confidence to continue whatever the hell he was gonna do, which at this point he truly didn’t know because this was supposed to be an apology but he had already apologized. Jeno decided to do his best, and try again, “that was the day we met. The day you helped me finish composing this beautiful song that helped me get into music school. The day where the second i heard you singing off the words i threw out into the open air hoping for someone to grab onto, you did, and my heart seemed to begin it’s freefall” a small smile graced your features, as you remembered the day, not knowing how much life would change. The small smile is all jeno needed to continue, gaining confidence even as happiness filled every inch of you, tears that you promised you wouldn’t shed in front of him steamed but not from sadness or anger this time. This time they were from a place of loss and happiness to the boy whose eyes conveyed so much more than the words he spoke, whose hand had come up to your cheek wiping away the spare tears that would come down. Ever so gentle and full, always him.

“It was something I didn't think was possible, you know? Coming to this new school, everyone had come up with their own ideas of who i was, because of stories they had heard, only to find you. Headstrong as ever, always standing by whatever you believe even some like pluto is still a planet” you both laugh, it’s a quick one, more like a chuckle but it’s filled with joy, at the memory. “You who didn’t care what the world thought, only that if you put your mind to it you would get it done. I never meant to fall in love with you, never meant to make you cry because of something that shouldn’t have ever happened, I never meant to get you too hate me the way you probably do” his eyes softened, and he pulled away ever so slightly, “but here I am. And i now i most definitely don’t deserve it but y/n, i can’t deny it because since i first heard your voice that late night i think i fell for you, and it has been a constant free fall from there. So when i say it now, i mean it i fucking love you” the end was more of a ramble, a long list of words that made your heart flip and expand in your chest, making your smile grow and you could see the doubt in his eyes, you could see him retreat back into himself, he completely let you go when you spoke up again, “you want to know what i hate the most?” you didn’t wait for a response before speaking again, grabbing his hands in yours, and you willed him to look at you.

“I hate the way that I don't hate you” you take a step closer to him, your faces so close the sun casting glows on you both. Two shadows becoming one behind you as the sun set, as one confessed to another the way they felt. “Because i don’t hate you, jeno. In fact it’s the opposite, because hate is not even close, not a tiny bit in resemblance to what i feel you for you,

Not even close, Not even a little bit, Not even at all.”

adfghjk and it’s finally done !!! i had so so so much fun writing this piece and seriously hope you guys enjoyed it !! im such a sucker for jeno and this movie in general lol. i struggled w the ending so i hope it came out well :) n e ways,,, please please tell me your thoughts on it, what you liked? what you didn’t like? things i could improve on. much love to you all !!

masterlist

#nct fluff #nct smut #nct angst #nct imagines #luna writes #nct scenerios #jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno imagines #lee jeno #nct dream #nct dream scenerios #nct dream imagines #jeno scenerios #jeno x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #fanfic

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kitty-av · 2 years

Text

Ok, so I don't know how this whole Tumblr thing works yet. I know how to search on tags, but still on clue on what to actually do really. I guess I'm just going to dump some of my favourite things I have on my Instagram for starters, then I'll double post here and there when I make something?

Starting an account on a new social media site is definitely going to be weird at first I suppose, but I'm willing to try. Anyways, some art

( Yes my signature is different than my user. That's because one is my initials, and one is pleasantly symmetrical so I like it - AV as letters fit together ok? )

In order: The Zagreus piece is literally the only time in recent memory I attempted to do a composition, and it's still my favourite purely for that ( I have issues with picking back up after a break, my mind goes all or nothing, so large pieces make me intimidated. That one took me 6 hours and I was exhausted by the end. I need to figure out how to work day by day, I'm getting there but definitely not there yet ). I really had fun with it because I wanted to experiment with lighting, colour, and framing. I think I did that quite well, considering how looking at it from a distance gives you a clear read on what's happening. I definitely should've tried to refine it further, but you know what, I think the roughness gives it some charm. Now if only I used reference for the muscles, then it would've been perfect. But yes, this drawing is still my baby, a baby with flaws, but still my baby.

The skull was a random study. My favourite portrait like painting. Working on the details was fun, and I also made it pink because why not. Pink is a nice colour, especially for skulls. I don't know why but it just is. I put it on my profile because it's aesthetic. Nothing really to note here other than that, it's a funky lil pink skull and that's all it needs to be.

The big mountain guy was my first drawing with my new tablet, so I feel obligated to put them here. It's just a small test piece, hence the simplicity. But then again, as I said before, it is what it is, and that's fine. Simple is good, and this is a nice calming piece of a mountain dude chilling with a crystal. Also I remember I tried to make this look kinda like the northern lights because they're cool.

Moon lady is my best portrait from back when I was using my old tablet, and still holds up really well. I wish I remembered how I drew her cheekbones/ skin because I highly doubt I can pull off that smoothness again. Not like it matters, styles evolve after all - but I also enjoy finding things in my art I still like even after months of not looking at it. Moon lady's smooth skin is one of those things. Also playing with dark values is fun, especially when there are glowing details.

Last but not least, still from my old tablet era, we have January. Literally January. We had an assignment to turn a month into a person ( I think so at least, it was related to turning January into something ) so I decided to be quirky and draw a weird ice humanoid thing instead of a pretty lady. They do not look like they're made of ice at all because I didn't and still don't really know how to paint ice, but you know what - they're cool looking. They have a mask because mysterious things are nice, and the gem things are there because I was getting into my Hades phase and Nyx's and Chaos' designs are dope and they have gems so why not do the gem thing. I remember I wanted them to be very thin and unnerving with fabric fusing into body and what not, and I did it, so I'm proud of it.

So yeah. Just a little summary type thing. Like a recap episode of an anime or something. Putting myself in here so I can continue when I start doing the art thing again. I've never really stopped, but digitally speaking I haven't in a while due to the previously mentioned ' I literally can't for the life of me turn in for the day and continue the next day so I feel obligated to complete everything in one session and so I just rarely sit down to draw ' issues.

I've done quite a bit of sketching and traditional art outside of digital though, this crayon death for example:

Not really perfect, but it is completed and it's proof, so yeah.

Anyway, I have literally no idea how to tag these now. Probably will add Hades because of my Zagreus. Maybe someone can help me figure out how Tumblr tagging works? Anyway, I'm also going to leave my Instagram here. Unfortunately, I cannot find a way to link it, so I hope a screenshot will do for now

Yeah, that's all for now I think

Bye for now!

#new to tumblr #digital art #zagreus hades #artwork #art #new artist

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galaeus · 3 years

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What do Contraxians look like?

idk they look like echo

I'M KIDDING OK BUT I will try to not make this a dissertation but here's a lil descriptor of Contraxians ( tw discussion of violence, foot shortages, gladiatorial fights, involuntary tattoos)

Contraxians resemble humans in terms of skeletal structure (two arms, two legs, five fingers, ten toes) yet possess a thicker skin in order to withstand the near sub-degree weather. A typical Contraxian varies in complexion, but they tend to have a bluish-scale tint depending on the heat of any given environment. Many tend to get sick in overly hot environments such as deserts and lava-core planets, so they will use regulated suits to offer a cooling sensation for their body temperatures. Their blood is blue, yet when mixed with air it congeals and turns a muted green. Their hair grows in the way humans do, though it can be more coarse. Many Contraxians tend to grow it long to almost drape it like a scarf; extra warmth when clothes don't suffice. There are preferred braiding patterns in order to lock in this warmth, and those methods are typically taught generation through generation.

Many Contraxians adopt an athletic body composition rather than slim or slender in order to withstand the brutalities of training, as some of the main modes of income are the universally famous (yet highly controversial and ethically depraved) gladiator fights that reside in an underground fashion in major cities. Given there has been decades, if not centuries-worth of foot shortage on the planet, however, there are plenty that have adapted to reserving the need to eat daily. Usually those who earn spots as ring-runners, casino owners, brothel matriarchs, and ring Champions eat the best.

Something incredibly important to the aesthetic of a Contraxian, especially those of a fighter, are their tattoos. It is not uncommon to see warrior hopefuls walking around with an Introductory Mark to signify that they have been chosen (or, in more unfortunate cases, bargained) to fight in the coveted arenas. Many tend to display these markings where they are easily visible -- arms, legs, the back of the neck, face, feet, and hands. You are able to distinguish a new Champion from a more seasoned Champion through just how many tattoos one owns: if they have something similar to this adorning their body, they are most likely a 4-7 fight Champion. The average fighter will win 15 matches before expiring, dying in a brutal yet honorable demise. The highest amount of wins a Champion has ever had is 41 -- and she looked relatively similar to this.

Champions Marks are involuntary; if you win, you must receive the marking to signify your glorious success. The winner, however, does have the opportunity to choose where these tattoos will be placed. Many take hours upon grueling hours of completion.

For reference, Echo Galaeus is marked to have won 33 matches before her disappearance from Contraxian rings.

As for reproduction hooplah, I will just simply say that they function relatively close to a human but there are some difference that I can go into if someone wants to actually ask SKDJFKSDF but I think I rambled on long enough. Thank you for sending this in, hope this added some insight! I'd love to answer anything else.

#;headcanons #v; mass effect #asks #ooc #about echo #v; to the stars #v; starfleet #ahhhh this was so great to answer thank u for sending #i am always jazzed to delve more into the contraxian lore!#ASK ME EVERYTHING I'LL ANSWER TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITY

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masquerade-story · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3 - Changes

Rayne pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to suppress the headache lingering behind her eyes. Being awoken by Crystal having one of the worst seizures she'd had in years was stressful enough, but the strange unexplainable nonsense going on was a whole new level of headache.

"Who can I even blame for this?" Rayne muttered, rebelliously stabbing at the cheesy eggs and chorizo frying in the skillet. "Grey wanted us to stay in a haunted house and picked this one, but the rest of us agreed to it, and it's not like Grey could have possibly even suspected ridiculousness like this to happen! I thought there'd be some weird cult kidnapping shenanigans going on so I slept on the bed near the door to catch intruders and instead of shifty robed intruders we get an impenetrable fog and an enormous snakey voidbeast that definitely doesn't exist anywhere on Earth!"

"Do you have any idea what Crystal was talking about?" Lillian asked, flipping over a tortilla on the griddle. "She was more incoherent than usual, but it seemed like she knew what it was."

"She was having a damned seizure, I bet she barely even knew who we were!" Rayne snapped, then sighed with sagging shoulders. "Sorry, Lils. I just... I don't like not knowing what's going on. I know she said she felt like things were going to change, but this... This is a bit too much change, isn't it?!"

"None of us are good with big changes," Lillian nodded her agreement, completely unbothered by the brief outburst, much to Rayne's relief. Being mean to Lillian felt like being mean to a starved, abandoned puppy in the rain. "We got popular pretty fast, and we all panicked, remember? We were scared by so much attention. You and Grey handled the public relations for a bit since you have retail experience and excellent poker faces. Me and Crystal had to hide behind you and breathe into little paper bags."

"It wasn't that bad."

"It was absolutely that bad. Our first video addressing all our new fans? It's hilarious, we look so nervous and panicked. Crystal was frozen and pale, and I was shaking so bad my face was blurred! And it got us even more fans somehow?"

"Pity, probably."

"Probably. That spooked us even more though! We wanted to make music and we wanted people to like it, but I don't think any of us were ready for the amount of attention we got. It took ages to adjust!"

"Yeah, but Lils... That's all... That's different. It's just... That's normal life stuff, you know? We got lucky, but it happens. People get lucky like that sometimes. People go viral every day for different things. But this?" Rayne turned, gesturing with her spatula in the vague direction of the nearest curtained window.

Before they started cooking, Lillian went around shutting the curtains for every window in the house, just in case. She glanced over her shoulder nervously in the direction Rayne was gesturing, then turned her attention back to assembling scrambled cheesy eggs, hash browns, chorizo, black olives, grilled onions, mango salsa and sour cream into delicious burritos she tossed back into the pan to grill shut, then topped with fresh pico de gallo once they were back on a plate. Lillian was the only one who knew the perfect balance between a fully stuffed burrito bursting at the seams, and a burrito that could still be closed and eaten with some semblance of civility.

"Life is stranger than fiction," Lillian muttered, deftly flipping three burritos into the greased pan. "People always say that, don't they?"

"Yeah well, we've reached downright fantasy at this point. I signed up for a haunted house, not whatever this shit is!"

"Maybe this is just what happens to people who go missing in haunted houses?"

"I-" Rayne opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again when she couldn't think of a counter argument. She heaved a sigh, turning off the stove burner once the last of the chorizo and eggs were finished cooking. "You're right. We should just wait for Crystal to hopefully explain something, then we can figure out the rest together. One step at a time, like always."

Rayne refused to think about anything in particular while she wrapped up a plate of burritos in foil, setting it aside in the stove for Crystal to eat once she woke up. Grey made his way downstairs shortly after everything was finished cooking, snagging a plate for himself and choosing to eat on the porch, staring intently out at the creepy fog. Lillian went out to keep him company, but Rayne chose to eat quietly in the dining room, staring at the pretty floral design around the outer edge of the plate.

Every time her thoughts dragged in the wrong direction, she forced herself to think about song lyrics, or melody composition, or clicked out different metronome timings with her tongue against her teeth.

Worrying and freaking out wouldn't help anyone, so why wouldn't her hands stop shaking?

Though she took her time eating, Crystal still hadn't descended the stairs by the time Rayne finished breakfast and washed her plate. She tossed dirtied cookware into the sink for Grey to wash later, then hurried up the stairs to check on her sister.

To her surprise, Crystal was sitting up in bed, staring out the window with a vacant expression. Winding tear tracks left shimmering lines on her pale face, causing Rayne's heart to skip a beat.

"Coco? Are you okay?" Rayne asked softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her sister took a moment to acknowledge her presence, turning her head with slow, hesitant movements as though doing so was a tremendous effort in itself.

"I... I'll be okay. We'll... be okay. But..." Crystal's voice trembled, a hoarse whisper that caught in her throat. She bit her lip, then forced a pained a smile. "Can you... Bring my food?"

Rayne waited a moment more, but Crystal didn't seem ready to explain. So she sighed, nodded, and went back downstairs to fetch her sister's plate from the oven, and poured her a cup of juice in case she needed a drink.

Crystal always ate slowly after a seizure, and sometimes made faces like the food was unfamiliar in taste or texture, even if it was something she'd eaten dozens of times before. She'd take a bite, wrinkle her nose, look momentarily confused, and spend about thirty seconds slowly chewing one mouthful.

Once she finally finished eating, Crystal slowly slid out of bed, and shuffled downstairs while leaning on the arm Rayne offered for support. Grey and Lillian were still outside, empty plates on their laps, shivering in their pajamas yet unwilling to look away from the fog, and the strange creature diving within it.

"It helps if you don't look directly at it," Grey mumbled as the screen door creaked open, squinting his eyes. "If you try to focus on it, the headache comes back."

Rayne tapped his shoulder to pull his attention away, gesturing back to the house. "C'mon, if we're all gonna sit out here, we should have some blankets."

"Yeah, okay."

They fetched some quilts from the linen closet, brand new blankets provided by the realtor that still smelled like detergent. Everyone bundled up, sinking comfortably into the patio chairs, sitting so close together that all their knees touched.

"How are you feeling?" Lillian asked Crystal, finally tearing her gaze away from the fog for a moment.

"I'm okay," Crystal whispered, staring down at her knees. "I just... We never got to go to the Grand Canyon, you know? We never got to go visit our hometown again. We never got to tour Europe."

"It's not too late to do those things," Rayne pointed out, pulling the blanket close around her shoulders. "Once we sort whatever this is-"

Crystal was shaking her head, and Rayne's voice trailed off when she saw tears welling up in her sister's oddly bright blue eyes.

Grey, Lillian, and Rayne all felt an odd sinking feeling in their chest. They exchanged concerned glances, but no one could find the voice to ask the question weighing on their hearts.

Luckily, she didn't make them wait long. Crystal looked up suddenly, exhaled a shaky breath, and extended one hand from the blanket to point toward the fog. "It's finished."

The sinuous unknowable creature in the fog twitched its many fins and tendrils, bringing all its coils together into one big Gordian knot of inconceivable nonsense. Then the whole thing surged, diving into...

The air?

The ground?

Space?

A point beyond the fog, vanishing into nothingness. Once the last trailing tendril was out of sight, the fog began to gather as well, rushing around the house to follow after the strange creature. Waves of mist, undulating and twisting into deceptively solid-looking shapes that twisted and churned around the house and its property, colors appearing between gaps in the waves filled with shapes and blurry figures that took one's breath away to stare at for too long.

"There's no earthly way of knowing, which direction we are going," Crystal sang softly, as colors and lights flashed through the mist in strange, pulsing patterns.

"There's no knowing where we're rowing, or which way the river's flowing," Grey continued, half-singing and half-laughing incredulously at the whole situation.

"Is it raining? Is it snowing? Is a hurricane a-blowing?" Rayne picked up while an odd shiver traced down her spine.

"More than a speck of light is showing though," Lillian muttered, ending their Willy Wonka reference before it went too far. "So is the danger growing or not?"

"Yes and no," Crystal whispered, pulling her blanket up over her head as a makeshift hood.

After more than half an hour, the last of the fog and lights and strange shapes finally surged forward to disappear into the same mysterious point of space as the unknowable creature.

With their view of the surroundings beyond the property fence no longer obscured, Grey, Lillian, and Rayne all turned as one to stare wordlessly at Crystal, who had a sad, wry smile on her face. As they struggled to find words, a single snowflake drifted down and landed gently on the tip of Rayne's nose.

Grey sneezed, disturbing a flurry of flakes that threatened to land upon his shoulders, and the rest took it as a signal to run inside as fast as their suddenly cold bare feet could carry them.

-----

"What is that?" Rayne asked, pointing toward the largest front-facing living room window which was rapidly being covered by a thick layer of frost.

Crystal, wedged on a sofa seat between Grey and Lillian, stared up at her sister with innocent puppy-dog eyes. "A window? Or the window seat?"

"Don't sass me, young lady!" Rayne groaned, dramatically sweeping back the curtains and gesturing toward the window again. "I meant on the other side! Beyond the fence! What is that nonsense?!"

"Ahaha..." Crystal laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck. Grey grabbed her arm and pinned it to her side, while Lillian did the same with the other arm.

"No avoiding us, this time! I knew things were getting weird but that's beyond weird, Crystal!" Grey's voice cracked mid-sentence, echoing the panic building in everyone's hearts.

"I only know a little, really!" Crystal muttered, carefully avoiding their heated gazes. "Not much more than you all probably guessed. I know why I had the seizure, and kinda what that creature was doing, though not what it exactly was cuz I don't think it even has a name as we conceive of them..."

"How about you start with what you do know," Lillian said, pointing toward the window to echo Rayne's earlier gesture.

"Like what in the world is THAT!?" Rayne gazed past the frosted glass and rubbed her upper arms, the chill in her body having nothing to do with the sudden drop in temperature, or the snow falling to gently coat their property in a blanket of soft white powder.

Just a day before, they'd hiked through a lovely, dense, deciduous forest thick with life. But what waited on the other side of the fence once the fog cleared was certainly not green North American woodland in the midst of summer. Snow fell gently from the skies, large snowflakes working to bury everything beneath a blanket of white, and the trees...

The trees beyond the property fence were massive, gargantuan even - the smallest had trunks that looked to be at least thirty feet in diameter, labyrinthine crowns of branches reaching toward the snowing clouds, dripping with icicles where foliage was absent. Crystal and Rayne were from the western coast of the US, where they spent plenty of time among redwood trees as children, yet the trees outside were much taller and wider than they'd ever seen.

For the trees still clinging to their foliage despite the bitter cold outside, the leaves visible were dusky shades of blue and purple instead of familiar greens. A roughshod dirt path led away from the forest down a field of gently rolling hills, toward a port town nestled in the basin of a small valley surrounded by mountains on one side and a frigid steely gray ocean on the other, which they could see clearly from the living room thanks to their new location.

Their house and its property looked exactly the same, but it was all situated halfway toward the top of a rocky mountain wedged between the end of the mountain range and the lengthy shoreline. On the section of beach closest to their forest, large white creatures that resembled giant plesiosaurs were laying on rocky outcroppings, heedless of the icy waves splashing their enormous bodies.

A wide stream broken only by a single cobbled bridge was visible from the front porch, winding through the trees and presumably turning into the wide river that eventually bisected the distant town before escaping into a natural harbor. Several ships dotted the horizon, white sails like puffy clouds against the cloudy sky, bobbing to and fro in the choppy waves.

It was definitely not the view they enjoyed before going to bed the night before. The trees alone were alarming, but the creatures on the beach in the distance were what Rayne had pointed one shaky finger at.

"Where the hell are we?" Rayne hissed, but Grey just laughed, a hint of hysteria in his voice.

"Another world, obviously!"

"No shit?!"

"What, you think there's any beaches on Earth that just have plesiosaurs vibing on an arctic beach?" Grey turned to Crystal and waggled his eyebrows to distract from the trembling of his shoulders. "It's another world, right? We're not on Earth, right?"

Crystal laughed, nervously twisting her fingers together. "Aha, yeah, well... You're right. It's not the arctic though, it's just early winter..."

"Can you explain a bit more than that?" Rayne asked, struggling to keep her voice calm while her sister hesitantly nodded.

"Okay, it's just... It's kind of an out there explanation?"

"This is kind of an out there situation, so..."

"That's fair, but... My seizure, see, was... I was having... I got a bunch of information. Just, like, downloaded into my brain I guess, and it's still taking me awhile to sort through some of it."

"And you're sure this information you... Received... Is legit?"

"Sure as I can be about anything right now."

"Valid."

"Bear with me, alright?" Crystal glanced around, waiting for everyone to nod before continuing. "Okay, so... I need you guys to imagine a field of flowers."

"What?" Rayne said, turning away from the window to arch an incredulous eyebrow.

"I said to bear with me! Imagine a field of flowers, and it's the most perfect field for flowers that you can think of. Rich, fertile soil. A clear babbling brook nearby. Warm weather, but not too hot. Lots of butterflies and bees. And little creatures that maybe sometimes nibble a few flowers, but also clear out all the harmful weeds. It's basically flower paradise."

"Alright..."

"Now imagine a huge breeze sweeps through the field, and carries a bunch of seeds far away. They're taken out of the paradise, but manage to set root somewhere really nice. But then once they're grown, then their own seeds are taken by the wind again. Over and over, further and further from that beautiful field... Until one generation ends up on the edge of a desert."

"A desert?"

"The edge of one. Where the soil is semi-arid, the sun is harsh, and even the wind is hot and unforgiving. Rain rarely falls, but somehow these seeds still manage to survive. They plant their roots deep and they endure. It's nowhere close to their ideal environment, but it's all they've ever known. And then one day someone comes along and digs up a few of the plants from the edge of the desert, and takes them to be replanted where the rain is gentle and the soil is rich. It's not the meadow paradise of their ancestors, but it's infinitely better than anything those flowers had ever known."

"So we're the flowers?" Lillian muttered, tapping her chin, and Crystal nodded.

"Yeah. Our ancestors at some point migrated through the Veil to-"

"The what?"

"The Veil. Endless worlds beyond worlds, separated by this thing, this being or deity or construct called the Veil, which I... I don't really understand it, I just know it's important and kinda weird. It keeps the... Worlds? Universes? Planes? All safely separated and compartmentalized. Connected, yet disconnected at the same time."

"Ah, kind of like the Veil in folklore. Avalon, Tir Na nÓg, or Tartarus! Places next to our reality, yet a different space all its own!" Grey muttered excitedly, his eyes sparkling.

"Yeah, exactly."

"Our ancestors moved through this Veil a bunch of times and ended up on Earth?" Rayne scoffed, but considering everything that'd happened that morning, she wasn't ready to entirely laugh it off. "We're aliens? Or fairies? For real?"

"Yes? No. I mean, they were aliens when they moved to Earth? But we were born there so we're Earth native and not aliens. We're still human though, not fairies as we understand them, but... I mean, what we understand humans to be are already pretty weird creatures... Earth humans are very different from humans in other worlds, I think? That's the impression I got from my... Ugh, visions." Crystal cringed, as though the very word felt embarrassing to say aloud. She was always uncomfortable with her ability, since she often questioned her own sanity and the validity of what she saw, so admitting they were genuine supernatural visions with definitive language was something she usually avoided.

Seeing her sister openly acknowledge her own visions made Rayne furrow her brow, but she didn't point it out, and instead voiced a question. "And that creature thing is the one that replanted us... Wherever we are, now?"

"Mmm... Sorta. It lured us to the house because it was a thin point in the Veil, and we just happened to be extra susceptible to its call because of our bloodlines. It was a subconscious pull, the interest we all had in the house, and the... The desire to stay awhile."

"And why did it do that?"

"To eat our bonds."

Rayne grimaced. "Our... What?"

"That... Creature. The Eater. It doesn't eat physical matter, so we weren't in real danger. It eats things that would be intangible from our perspective, and its favorite are bonds. Our ties to Earth. Our connection to that reality, that plane of existence. We, uh... Even if we found a way to cross the Veil again, we... We can never go back to Earth." Crystal braced herself as the other three sharply inhaled through their teeth. Lillian stifled a brief sob, pressing her fingers to her lips, while Grey clenched his hands into fists and pressed them firmly into his shaking knees.

"We can't go home?" Grey whispered. "Like... Ever? For sure?"

Crystal's slow, affirming nod made tears spring to Lillian's eyes, and she covered her face with her hands. "Oh no... Oh no!"

Rayne swore softly under her breath. The weight in her chest had yet to settle. She thought of her boyfriend back home, their slightly rocky but precious relationship, and could tell by the look on his ashen face that Grey was remembering his own lover.

Lillian, meanwhile, clutched one of the sofa's throw pillows to her chest and continued to sob quietly. "Mom... Dad...! They'll be so worried!"

"No, they won't."

The soft whisper had everyone turn to Crystal again, but she avoided their gazes while her own swam behind a curtain of tears. "Crystal," Rayne said, intending to speak softly, only to wince when her sister's name rolled off her tongue like a curse.

"They," Crystal began, wringing her hands together until her knuckles were stark white. "They... Won't remember us. None of them. I told you, our... Our bonds were eaten."

"It ate... Their memories of us!?" Grey snapped, raising his voice for the second time that day. Crystal flinched, but nodded.

Rayne let out a shaky breath, covering her eyes with one hand. "Thank God."

"What!?" Grey snapped, jumping to his feet. "How could you-"

"Thank God!" Lillian echoed, her voice muffled from behind the throw pillow. Grey turned on her, but she kept going. "Thank God they won't realize we're missing. Thank God they won't worry about us, spending the rest of their life wondering where we... Thank goodness!"

Grey visibly deflated, falling back onto the sofa with a soft grunt. "Oh. Yeah, that's... Yeah."

"I'm sorry," Crystal said, tears rolling down her cheeks. She flinched again when Grey draped his arm over her shoulders, and Lillian reached over to hold her hand. "I'm so sorry, I..."

"It's not your fault!" Rayne said, flopping down in the nearest armchair and kicking up the foot rest.

"It might as well be! I could tell change was coming, that it was something weird and something big, and I just..."

"You told us, and we all stayed at the house anyway thanks to... What, the Eater's call? It's not like any of us could see this coming, you know? Going to another world..." Rayne trailed off, her furrowed brow once more raising until her eyebrows threatened to disappear into her hairline. "Wait, if we're in another world... Why does the electricity work?"

Grey and Lillian both froze, then slowly turned their face to look up at the living room light, gently illuminating the room with its glow. Then they all turned to look at Crystal, who rubbed her cheek against Grey's shoulder to wipe off tears since her own nightgown was sleeveless.

"It's an echo."

"Gonna have to give us more than that, Coco."

"The house. It's an echo of the house on Earth. Like a... A metaphysical reflection. The light works because it worked on Earth. The hot tap will make hot water because it's supposed to. The stove will work because it's supposed to. And because it's an echo... Anything viewed as damage will be restored overnight. New plants will grow, we can bring stuff in or add on to the house. But the base line condition will always remain the same."

"No leaky roof? Ever?!" Grey said with more enthusiasm than Rayne could muster for the situation, and Crystal nodded.

"Toilet won't stay clogged more than a day. Nothing will stain. And..." Crystal began, then paused with a strange expression on her face.

"What?" Grey said, leaning against her side. "And what?"

"The food and blankets and toilet paper, everything that was within the fence the instant we opened the front door. It counts as part of the property, so its loss counts as damage. If you want, you can check the fridge. Everything we used for the barbecue last night is back."

"Thank you dear God in Heaven for this bounteous gift of eternal butt paper and free testosterone refills." Grey whispered, holding his hands together in a praying gesture and glancing toward the ceiling while the others laughed. "Wait... Does that mean our phones will never break? All the stuff we carried in our backpacks and the handcart?"

"Yeah. They're part of the house so they'll physically reset every night but it allows for certain conditional changes based on an item's function... We can write on paper in the books or notebooks and it won't be undone overnight, leftovers in a dish won't vanish, stuff like that. So like, new photos can be saved."

"What good does that do?" Lillian grumbled. "Not like we can use them for calling anyone."

"Joke's on you Lils, I've got music and games and books on mine!"

"Mine too."

"Same here. Movies too."

Lillian gaped at everyone, then threw her hands in the air. "I mean, yeah! I do too! But that's not-"

"We gotta be happy for the little things right now Lils," Grey said, flapping the hand still draped around Crystal's shoulders to pat his twin's arm. "Small victories."

"Is there anything else?" Rayne asked reluctantly, almost afraid of hearing the answer. And seeing the look on Crystal's face, she knew she was right to be concerned. "Alright, spill it."

"Um, well... Our powers are real."

"I beg your pardon?"

"They're real." Crystal smiled wryly, knocking her knuckles against the side of her head. "I know we all love and believe in supernatural stuff, but we also sometimes question whether it's really real or us just seeing what we wanna see in a bunch of interconnected coincidences, you know? Or if it's mental illness manifesting in one way or another, you all know my... My feelings on that one, particularly. But uh... No, they're real. My... My visions are real. The way I... Know things is real. And...

"We're not in the metaphysical desert of Earth anymore. This world has the equivalent of decent soil, clean water, favorable weather." Crystal held out her hands, her smile slowly growing into a more genuine grin. "Our powers manifested without any resources to feed them, in an environment almost perfected to suppress supernatural abilities, but this world is different, closer to our ideal environment. How much stronger do you think we'll get now?"

#writing #chapter #original #original story #masquerade #fantasy #isekai

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rhydium · 3 years

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Info dumbo about the StarFinite story?

aright u asked for it anon GET READY [cracks knuckles] this is gonna be long so obligatory cut in 3, 2........

...1!

so the uh, the au! the story!! w/e yall wanna call it! full disclaimer, i only began working on this whole thing a while ago, but it's totally taken over my fukn brain. like, we're talking big hyperfixation hrs. am i cringe for being this invested in my own content? yes? cool i do not Care >:3€

i should also throw it out there real quick that i am kin w/ infinite, n this is actually one of my two canons (both of which are my own aus lmfao wow). i didn't go into it expecting it to be but sfsfsgdfs here we are ig!! for that reason it's got extra importance to me n this definitely contributes to the euphoria i get from it!! it's a lil odd writing ur own canon,,? but i kinda just go w/ the flow!

the au n, the story that i will start Eventually, revolves around infinite n starline (obvi) n it's honestly just ... the tl;dr is big healing momence n, what's this? uh oh sisters !!! they are falling in love 😳😳😳

uhhhh so infinite is an android, made by eggman. that's like, the most notable canon divergence here! super important context to have. i've got a whole big theory on the possibility of sega originally intending infinite to be an artificial being (which i explored in the works for my Other canon too), stemming from not only the scene in forces wherein infinite comments on sonic's "data", but a line of dialogue from tails in one of the last stages of the game where he Literally Says "so this is where eggman built infinite". that ... i mean. that contrasts w/ episode shadow pretty hard don't it?? would explain why that dlc was so rushed, n the comic too. ANYWAY adsfsfs um that's a seperate ramblepost. yeah!!!

they are also agender n use they/them (primarily) as well as he/him!! so i'll be refering to them w/ those pronouns!

after the war, infinite is taken in by the resistance n, instead of being dismantled, they're basically given a chance to rehabilitate themselves. it's agreed that they won't be reprogrammed, as despite the potential risks, it feels wrong to do so; like a violation of their free will, individuality n thinking. if infinite is to be a good person, it's not gonna be bc other ppl recreated their entire personality, it's gonna be bc it's what they themselves truly want. robot ethics idk man!! u can't tell me that sonic n co wouldn't offer this to infinite if they offered it to metal in IDW,,,, i am Standing By This!!!

it's, yknow, a bit rocky, at first. infinite has to really fight the urge to return to eggman (something they already tried once, before the resistance found them; they were cast out). it's a struggle against what they were built to do, against giving into unhealthy familiarity over facing a, while healthier, unfamiliarity. new faces, a new life, turning their back on their mission n creator, it's like, a lot.

they work for/with the sonic crew, rebuilding the world they tore down as deemed fitting justice, being closely monitored for a bit as a natural precaution. as it becomes apparent infinite truly no longer has any ambition to harm others (they don't have much ambition for anything, really), they're then granted more freedom, n start taking on more important missions!! it at least gives them something to do, keeps them occupied. they have issues with dissociation, unreality, whether they're truly a real person bc, well, android. feeling purposeless, n a lack of worth, especially. a need to prove themselves. heavy stuff. i'll kinda go into that a bit more in a sec. their work grounds them, if only temporarily.

n soooooo... IDW comic stuff happens. metal virus time. starline gets kicked out of the empire.

now, as the comics are ongoing, n as this is already an au, there's gonna be divergence, n i must admit i haven't planned out all that yet. there's a lot i have to consider!! infinite being w the resistance/restoration is a big game changer ... tho i Do believe that they were absent, likely on a far out mission during most of the chaos. eggman doesn't know abt them, nor does starline or anyone else other than the sonic crew; n some civilians that recognise them.

i'm not 100% sure of Exactly when it happens, but i think it's just after bad guys, that infinite is sent to locate n bring in starline. it doesn't prove too difficult. there's a whole, starline realising "oh fuck it's you???", some bickering n, the two don't hit it off right away. they're both kinda like. not mentally stable ddgddgdds,,,

so uh. starline ends up essentially going thru the same sorta shit as infinite. careful watch, rebuilding, all that jazz, making sure he can be trusted. he's like... very very lost, quite like infinite is. the world has kinda calmed down, in the meanwhile.

it's at this point i'm gonna go ahead n drop a bit of a ramble i subjected my friends to a while ago, to articulate the way i see the two, n their dynamic together!! i was considering making this it's own post a while ago!

analysing their characters a bit... let's look at starline. Like. so we have this, in bad guys, which SENT ME tbfh;

i feel like it's the moment that triggers starline onto the path he is rn canonically,,, he's clearly like. rly mad n bitter. the core of this?? he wants his work n his efforts to be acknowledged.

he's big angry. still kind of in denial at this stage. he has himself obsessed w/ the idea of making eggman see him as Worthy, that if he just tries hard enough, that'll happen. he's dependent on eggman's validation, n i mean, it's no surprise; he's followed him a Long Time by the sounds of it.

then in the recent issue, hold the fuck up, bc we got, This;

god. my god it's all comin together now homies. this???? this right here??? it is the CLASSIC "i have to do this to prove i'm strong n powerful n smart n worthy n should be respected please Give Me Acknowledgement" ..... n who else is Like That? can u see where im going w/ this?

i think most ppl are aware of infinite's character being extremely indicative of self worth/esteem issues n the need to prove themself, right?? the extreme adversity, repulsion, perhaps even fear toward the idea of being weak. the compulsion to prove otherwise, to show their strength, to become powerful, to conquer to make a point. their theme exudes this same energy as their behaviour in-game; an aggressive attitude, trying to assert themself, while if u rly listen...? the lyrics are actually really sad in places. it reeks of cover up, although composition wise, a v interesting thing to note is a lot of the more telling lyrics are prominent while some of the affirming ones are in the background. indicative of a desire to have their true feelings be heard but caught in a vicious loop?

okay okay that's yet Another different analysis. AHEM.

not to get deep on main (oh who the hell am i kidding that's the point of this entire thing) but i think starline has issues w/ his worth in a similar way to infinite. they both seem to have this need to Prove something, whether it's to others or themselves, n get caught in a toxic spiral of doing worse n worse things for Some kind of validation or acknowledgement. they'll go to really big lengths chasing that, n both of them ultimately sought validation in the wrong place n wrong way.

this is a big part of my starfinite dynamic,, n so, what happens, as they get closer n open up??? we have them BOTH realising together that they don't have to do fuck all to prove anything to anyone. they don't need to do all this to show they're strong n smart n worth something, not to anyone else OR themselves. they're enough as they are. they bond over that shared feeling that they have to do xyz, to prove themselves, n that desire to just finally be acknowledged n appreciated n help each other thru it. to help each other understand that other ppls approval, or lack thereof, doesn't define them, their strength, intelligence, and worthiness.

i feel like they have an interesting parallel between them in like... the above could be taken as a general analysis, but to go more in depth on this au specifically?? ...

starline followed eggman for presumably a long time n it no doubt left him feeling a heavy and deep regret for all that time wasted n spent on an unhealthy path. infinite kinda teaches him that what matters is what he's doing Now n also reminds him that if none of it happened, starline wouldn't have learnt a lot of the serious skills he has. n while starline still feels bad, he also realises himself that, he likely never would have crossed infinite's path if none of it happened. for that reason, he wouldn't take it back.

infinite has only been recently made, on the other hand. they haven't really existed long, yet, but so far their experiences haven't been very positive n it can be .... discouraging. starline sorta, shows infinite their limited experiences w/ the world are a very tiny fraction of what's out there, n things can absolutely change, yes, including for the better; that's the essence of life, a neverending, constant flow of change.

it's a big tale of moving on n letting go, honestly; made easier as they're doing it together. n as they heal n grow, well... these bitches gay. sfshshdgds like, ig that's putting it p bluntly but!! they start to trust each other, understand each other more. as they get to truly know who the other is, they both start developing The Feelings. they're both pretty oblivious n the reveal is totally unknown so far!! yeah, i know, bummer. i suck. boo. adafsfsds however i can say there will be lots of content in the making!! if that soothes the soul! i've got of ideas i hope to bring to life.

ofc there's still a lot of more specific things i haven't covered here so! if y'all want more juice hmu w/ more focused questions but !! this is the overview n i hope it was a decent read now that gave some uhhh! Cool Insight! yea!!! ✌

#jackal.txt #android infinite au #i need a proper name for this #infinite the jackal #dr starline #starfinite #long post #idw sonic spoilers

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kawaiijellymonster · 3 years

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So I’ve got a note in my notes app called “Fanfic lines that should be in a hall of fame” and it’s gotten pretty long so I figure I’ll toss it on here so yall can enjoy it, most of them are: mha, zukka, miraculous ladybug, harry potter, and I think one is from a comment on a hannibal amv, But here you go:

Stain sold papers because he just had an aura about him that drew people in, like people who slow down to look at car crashes.

“The Rumor Come Out: Does Todoroki Shoto is Gay?”

Izuku spent the next week going to his normal martial arts classes, studying, and drinking gallons of coffee. Not healthy but he could deal with it. His body was never meant to be permanent.

So no one was watching when Mei placed her forehead against his, breath fanning across his face as she spoke. "Wake up Loki… the world needs you."

“No probs ‘lil listener!” Hizashi said, striking a dramatic pose. “I’ll be your DJ all through the night, bringin’ you such rockin’ hits as safety, security and sweet dreams!”

“This is stupid! Screw the waiting and screw these stupid butterflies. They're not paying rent, the little shits--”

Experimenting with unstable genetic mutant abominations is more of an art than a science, really."

Several looks pass across both their faces. “No flying for a month,” Sirius declares. That sucks, actually. But he’s also a hundred percent certain he can get them to cave on that in two weeks tops. “Okay. Is that for the breaking into the Ministry, destroying the Department of Mysteries, making a bargain with Voldemort, or bringing all my friends with me?” “It’s for recklessly endangering your own life again,” Remus says, “and while the punishment very much doesn’t fit the crime, we’re a bit at a loss for what else to do.” “It wasn’t reckless!” he protests. “We had a plan and everything, and we even brought an adult! An adult Order member! Also what else were we supposed to do, let Snape die?” Sirius takes a deep breath, but Remus steps on his foot before he can put it in his mouth. “Which is why you’re only getting flying privileges taken away and not thrown in a cell in Azkaban for our sanity and your safety.” As if any cell could hold him. “I accept your terms.”

“Who’s Theophania?” Sirius asks. Harry hesitates. Perhaps bringing her up was his smartest decision, strategically speaking. “If I tell you you’re not allowed to throw me in Azkaban. Or ground me.” “This isn’t a negotiation,” Sirius repeats. If Blaise has taught him anything, it’s that everything is a negotiation. “She’s a friend.” “And?” Sirius repeats. Remus suddenly grabs onto Sirius’s shoulder, “Wait. Petrifying - during your second year - is Theophania - she’s not the basilisk.” “No, they killed it,” Sirius says automatically. Harry remains silent. “Harry!” He rubs his nose. “It turns out I’m not that good at killing things. Unkilling things, however? My specialty.”

“It’s okay,” Nanaia says, “you don’t know. What do you do when you don’t know something?” “Try something you do know and hope it doesn’t make everything worse?” For some reason, Horace looks sad at that answer, and Dumbledore shifts from one foot to the other. “No,” she says, “you ask for help.” Oh.

“It’ll piss off your son,” he answers bluntly. “Fuck that kid,” Riddle Sr. says

“You played me!” “Like a cheap kazoo”

Batman sighed, before speaking in a voice that was so unlike his usual growl that most of the other League members almost fell out of their chairs. Diana and Clark seemed to be used to it. “Damian,” he started. His voice was still deep, but a regular-deep, instead of I-just-swallowed-six-buckets-of-gravel deep.

“She loved James too,” she assures, and the confidence she says that with allows him to breathe, like someone has let go of his lungs. “It is possible to love more than one person at the same time. She loved your father with the type of love that’s – that was like a shooting star, burning and bright and touching everyone around them. Her love for Severus was different, and in the end it wasn’t the type of love either of them could handle.”

You’re better at it now then many people are after leaving a full apprenticeship, and you’ve only had a year of lessons a couple of times a week instead of years of intensive study. Do you know why that is?” “Luck?” he offers weakly. For some reason, he doesn’t like the direction this is going in. “No,” she says. “To be good at healing, the way you are, the way I am, you need a certain combination of things. Intelligence, power, control, but more than that. Stubbornness, a tricky balance of flexibility and inflexibility, and a constant, brutal assessment over your own skills. And something else.” “A propensity towards poor life choices?” he suggests. Poppy shakes her head, not taking the bait. “No. You have to care. You have to care about everyone, even people you dislike, and you have to care so much that if feels like it’s killing you, you have to care and that care has to hurt, until the only thing that hurts worse than caring is not caring. To be good at this, you have to let it hurt you.”

“You two shouldn’t have bothered dressing formally for Albus, he’s a bitch.” Harry doesn’t have any idea what’s going on, but he’s loving it.

“It was on the syllabus,” Zuko whispered conspiratorially to his mother. Sokka gasped. “You know I don’t read those!” “This is your own fault then.” “I like to be surprised. The procrastination keeps me humble.”

sometimes you remind me of the stars youre gorgeous and happy and can always brighten me on the darkest days and even when youre dampened you can guide me home

“imagine you are the only person who loves to play chess more than anything but nobody else in the world has ever heard about chess. and then you see a person holding a chessboard. it’s like your whole world was reborn”

"I wanted to be a stripper in middle school," Izuku said. Yup, that's a good cover.

What you’re asking for isn’t fair or right. You can’t ask a person for more than they’re willing to give

In Mei’s words, “You have about five minutes of ‘fuck that one thing in particular.’ Make them count.”

“Mei, let me introduce your new best friend. This is Momo. She has a Quirk that lets her make anything as long as she knows its composition inside and out. All you have to do is buy her dinner,“ Izuku said,

The cameras were looped. The bots were hacked. It was a good day to be a villain.

“None. The alarm never left the building.” “Really? Why is that?” “Mei finished first and decided to do you a favor. However, you've got the fire alarm just starting to go off and that's on a different circuit. Take a fast way down.” “Understood,” Hitoshi drawled. A moment later he was looking back at the crew. “Ladies and Frenchman. We take the express.”

Quinn is talking like that actually answers his question when it really, really doesn’t. “If you don’t start making sense, I’ll cry.”

“You’re one of my best students,” ze says. “You should understand the importance of timing. Speaking of, you’re late for your next class.”

Fuck, he totally is. “Thank you for that very confusing answer. I’ll think of you while crying myself to sleep.”

He’d wondered if that was what bravery was, to be quiet even when you were hurting so much you wanted to scream.

maybe bravery was also running screaming at the thing that nearly killed you, to keep it from killing someone else.

“Apologies are not difficult. Good apologies revolve around three basic points. One, I acknowledge what I did was wrong. Two, I regret that you were harmed. Three, this is how I plan to make sure it does not happen again. That’s all. Apologies are easy.” Then she’d glanced at them all again, evaluating. “And if you become very, very good at your job... they will be the absolute hardest thing you ever do.”

“Even though we’re a bunch of migraine-inducing hellions who are smart enough to know when something is a bad idea and stupid enough to still do it?”

“You’re like the nice china that Al only brings out for Christmas. Except Bruce just realised that I stole it, and chipped it. Maybe it’s time I give it back before I shatter all the pieces.”

she won’t co-parent my perfectly reasonable and well-behaved children.” Clark snorts. “Damian’s trying to stab Tim, right now.”

"Oh, my knight in shining armour. What would I do without you?" the teen droned, placing a dramatic hand on her head.

"I think you mean 'knight in shining leather', M'Lady. And without me, you would be left alone in this kingdom of lies.”

"It's a kingdom, alright. It'll topple sooner or later." "That's the spirit!" Adrien laughed.

Here’s something that a harbinger of tragedy would never find the courage to admit: there are moments in between the bitter self-hatred and the visceral, tangible consequences of your sins in which you almost think you’re worthy of forgiveness; of second chances; of a life beyond your greatest regrets. It’s a unique brand of pain,

“Go directly to horny jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.”

“You can’t wait around for him to be sorry,” Izuku says. He’s quiet now. This isn’t something that’s meant to be shouted. “Maybe he’ll never be sorry. Maybe he doesn’t know he did anything wrong, or he doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter.” Cautiously he takes a step forward. “You can’t depend on the people who hurt you to be the ones to make it better, or it’s never going to get better. They’ll only disappoint you, or hurt you even worse, and then they’ll be gone and you’ll be waiting forever.”

Midoriya may be strong as hell, but that just means looking out for him has to be a team effort.

How would his new adoring fans react if they knew he raised a villain? He's no All-Might. His pillar's made of toothpicks, and it's not gonna take much to crack it.”

Tensei approaches Rei, “Okay, this plan is childish, unprofessional, and a discourtesy to this school's reputation. That being said, when do we nail the little twat?

Hinata is dead. Deceased. Passed away, laid to rest with a headstone that reads Here Lies Hinata Shouyou, Killed By A Wink And A Blown Kiss.

It’s dangerous to be a bad father when you have life insurance

#long post #fanfic lines that deserve to be in a hall of fame #fanfic #rambles #lol

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pyotatochip · 5 years

Text

just like dancing | hyunjin x reader

what’s up losers. this one goes out to @starhhj thanks for always hurting me so good <3

just like dancing | hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader wordcount: 4k inspired by: sidekick by walk the moon summary: meeting up with a photographer for a day of modelling turns into making a maybe forever friend.

ur a model

well. aspiring model.

ur instagram is a buncha pictures that u make ur friends take of you whenever y'all hang out

u have booked a couple photoshoots and submitted them to magazines

u even got published a couple times!!!!

not in anything big, just photography journals and portraiture mags

BUT IT'S SOMETHING!!!!

photoshoots are hella expensive tho fuckin. rip ur wallet

so u join a facebook group, which is something u never thought u would do

the idea was that aspiring photographers and aspiring models would meet up, get experience, and maybe make professional relationships

you? young and cute

all these photographers? 36 yr old dudes

they always invite you to their studios in their houses

to do artsy half nude shoots

so u were pretty unwilling to meet up with most of them

(understandable)

but then this one schmuck posts in the group, just when u so happen to be looking for weekend plans

“looking for a model this saturday, autumn themed shoot at han river. the leaves are really pretty right now, i wanna catch them before too many fall”

han river was a pretty public place, so u DEFINITELY felt safer

and like, ur school is pretty close to there, so ur familiar with the area

u comment “i'm free all day, give me a time and i'll meet you there”

after it posted, you clicked on his profile and

fuck

he was not 36

and he was CUTE

u freaked the fuck out

this kid looked like he was ur age. and he was hot.

should u delete the comment?

why would u do that?

bc ur nervous?

why are u nervous?

bc the photographer is a hottie?

is that really a good excuse?

before u could debate with urself much longer, ur comment received a like and u got a private message

hyunjin: hi! u look great! meet at the main gates of yeouido park at 9am?

“u look great!”

“U LOOK GREAT!”

(jooe sunbaenim is quaking)

screech

you: so early! okay! what kinda look are u going for?

hyunjin: haha i wanna get that fall morning light!!! i’d like it to be pretty autumnal. warm colors, maybe a sweater/scarf/jacket combo? if u have something like that. minimal makeup & hair, if you're into that stuff. hopefully that's all okay (^ム^)

you: sounds good! see you saturday!

you spend the next few days at school literally just thinking about how ur meeting up with a cutie on saturday

u rlly dont know what to do with urself

i show ur friend a pic of him and she's like “HOOYKY FUXKJGN GODJ”

which was basically your initial reaction too

but then shes like “he looks familiar??? is he a model too???”

u have literally no idea but it's completely possible

like, it's a waste to have that face exclusively behind the camera

and suddenly the two of u are like. obsessively going through his instagram bc WHAT THE FUCK he’s like….. REALLY GOOD

like, he does a lot of portraits, but the focus isn't necessarily always the person in the photo

the composition and background are just as important in every shot and it…. shakes u

there’s a few pictures of him too, all of which are v aesthetic

but how could they not be??? have u seen his face????

he also tags literally every person in his pictures whether they’re models or just his friends while they’re hanging out

and he photocreds everyone who takes pics of him!!

you are literally…. fallin’ in love

because he was cute and had a good eye and wrote cute captions and was so humble!!!

ur friend is like “wow we stan a pro”

“he looks seriously familiar tho, right?”

she's like “yeah i'm confused why have i seen his face before”

and ur shook bc like… if u had seen this boy irl there's no way you would forget how cute he is

finally,,, it's the weekend

you get on the train and head to han river early in the morning, dressed up and made up for your ~autumn photoshoot~

as soon as you get to the gates ur like.. holy fuck

it's so pretty

the leaves are a mix of orange and red and green and there's a couple dusting the ground too

no wonder hyunjin wanted to shoot here

ur kinda aimlessly wandering around the gate when u suddenly spot

him

he’s wearing a bomber jacket and has a camera bag over his shoulder

and his neck is literally at a 90° angle while he's looking at his phone

ur like…. that cant be ok

u get a notif while ur walking up to him and its a message from him asking if u were on ur way

“actually, i can't make it”

he looks up and immediately laughs. “hi! y/n?”

u wave. “hi hyunjin!! nice to meet you!!”

y'all exchange pleasantries and he's suddenly like

“your outfit is literally perfect” he steps back to look at u. “exactly what i had in mind”

u put up a peace sign. he laughs again.

uh oh

u really like his laugh

and his smile

and his everything

uh oh

he leads you further into the park where there's less people and more trees

“i brought another jacket and a couple of scarves in case u wanted something different” u say as he's helping you take off ur backpack

“oooooo a professional”

“not even”

he asks you if he can take a boomerang of u for his instagram story and u do a lil twirl

he gasps

“that was cute!!!!”

he giggles while he's posting it

what is with this kid and his giggles

u cant

if he keeps doin it at this rate, it'll probably be the death of u

which is

cool

he puts your backpack on and pulls his camera out of his bag. “let's take some pics in this outfit and then i'll peek at the other options. i like this look a lot”

and then… he just starts taking pictures

u literally laugh

“where do you want me?”

“wherever,” he goes, checking the pics real fast. “i tend to go for candid shots”

suddenly,,, his entire instagram flashes in your brain

the pictures of people laughing and mid walk and reading books

u thought all the models were just. really comfy and professionals and shit

IT WAS ALL A LIE

“so uhhh…” u literally dont know what to do

u have Never done a shoot Like This

“just walk,” he said. “look around. i'll follow”

you: no fear

hyunjin: just walk

you: one fear

u nervously laugh again and he's hitting his shutter like A MILLION TIMES A SECOND

“okay…… i guess i'll walk then”

u push his shoulder while u walk past him bc he's cheesin at u way too hard for u to handle

“ow”

“that didn't hurt”

“it hurt my heart :(“

ur walking backwards and laughing and he's just. only looking at you through his camera.

so. u wander.

u take a lovely morning walk down the pretty paths at han river

u really were so scared that u would be completely directionless, but hyunjin ends up asking you to do specific things also

“go up on those rocks”

“i'm literally wearing slippery ass boots do you want me to die”

“do it for the shot, y/n”

sIGHHHHHH

so ur up on some rocks trying not to fall into a fucking river

and when hyunjin shows u the pics he takes….

okay

yeah

he was right

the entire time he was shooting, he would just strike up conversation to make you comfy

asking how long you've been pursuing modelling

if u wanna do it as a career or if its just a hobby

about ur family

about ur pets

(he asks a lot about pets)

ur sitting on a bench and he's crouched a few feet away to get those ~angles~ when he asks

“where do u go to school?”

“kyunggi”

hyunjin gasps. “no way! me too!”

you fuckin ALMOST DIE

because u fuckin brainblast and have a recovered memory of seeing hyunjin In Your School's Uniform in the lunchroom and suddenly IT ALL MAKES SENSE

you hop up from the bench and like. YELL.

“OKAY I THOUGHT YOU LOOKED REALLY FAMILIAR ARE YOU KIDDING”

he stands and literally screams and u are. so shocked. “i thought you looked really familiar too!!!! i figured i just had seen your pics on the facebook group!!!! i highkey stalked ur instagram bc i couldn't figure out where i knew you from!!”

okay, wig

he stalked you also which is….. great

“what year are you???”

“i'm a junior!”

you push him.

“boi what the fuck! me too!”

“no way!!!” he's laughing “that's crazy!”

he literally pulls out his phone and opens instagram

u have never seen a person use instagram stories as much as this bitch

like, he intermittently pulls out his phone to get shots for his story

u almost threw hands when u were sliding around on some stupid wet rocks bc he was like “JUMP AGAIN I NEED IT FOR A BOOMERANG”

he does this cute lil hair flip and adjusts his bangs before he starts recording and u…. kinda wanna cry

“I KNEW Y/N LOOKED FAMILIAR”

he spins so ur in the shot with him and puts his arm over your shoulders

“WE'RE LITERALLY IN THE SAME YEAR AT THE SAME SCHOOL”

u laugh out loud

he laughs with you and u have to cover ur mouth so an uwu doesn't fall out

u try not to focus on his literally perfect eye smile as he hunches over his phone to post to his story

like,,,

those crescents

are so cute

and he has this lingering grin every time he laughs

and like. wow. lips. amirite. ladies and gents.

“i cant believe u go to kyunggi,” u say. bc u cant.

“what are the odds. out of all the people in that group, we end up meeting up”

u almost made a joke about it being destiny but then u were like oo no thats creepy dont say that

then hyunjins gasps

and u look at him

and he just looks at you wide eyed

and fucking

whispers

“destiny”

you scream laugh

he's laughing too

but on a real level ur like why would that have been super creepy if u said it but it was cute as hell (and a little heart fluttery) when he did?

he goes on saying it's crazy that you had never had any classes together over the years

“or any clubs,” u said

“yeah!!! what clubs do you do??”

“photography! which is why i'm shocked!!!”

hyunjin gasps again

wtf is up with this boy and his gasps

“i was gonna do photography but they meet the same days as dance!”

BITCH

WHAT THE FUCK

“I DONT DO DANCE BC THEY MEET THE SAME DAYS AS PHOTOGRAPHY”

his entire jaw drops off his damn face

“YOU DANCE TOO?”

“I’M JUST AS SHOCKED AS YOU ARE”

u literally can't believe

“we've been barely missing each other all this time when we could have been best friends :(“

oh ow

ouch hyunjin

that got u right in ur weak heart

like literally u might have a heart condition now bc he just hit u with the “we could have been best friends”

“sorry i already have a best friend”

DGDGSH WHY DID YOU SAY THAT

then he's laughing and ur like… oh fuck wheew

“well, sorry, i'm replacing them now. we have to catch up on lost time.”

and honestly………. he's right

number 1: y'all are both photography nerds

even tho you have begun to skew on the modelling side of it, u always loved taking pictures of scenery and u knew way too much about how cameras worked

and hyunjin really was like a pro

u had watched him adjust settings on his camera for white balance and exposure and everything

and judging by his instagram, he set himself up for some flawless editing too

number 2: y'all are both dance nerds

he tells u basically all his friends are in the dance club and have formed a lil dance crew bc of it

u say u used to take classes when u were younger but now u just go to the gym and hide in a practice room for a few hours every week

he does hip hop! which is so predictable but u still act all surprised

u tell him u used to do ballet but ur much more into urban dance these days

number 3: y'all both don't know how to stop laughing

like literally if either of you do anything remotely funny the other one is fucked for five minutes

ur pretty sure 90% of the pics hyunjin was taking were of you covering your face because ur literally GUFFAWING

and like, y'all ain't even that funny

but the more you laugh the less funny shit has to be for you to be crying

hyunjin told u to stop making him laugh bc his fingers were getting weak and he didnt wanna drop his camera

you, trying not to giggle: its ok u have a strap around ur neck u can drop it

hyunjin, tears flowing freely: PLEASE LET ME BREATHE

number 4: y'all both LOVE UR PETS

like idk man he tells u about kkami and u freak the fuck out because he's just SO EXCITED ABT HIS PUP

and hyunjin almost ditches u right then n there when u say ur more of a cat person BUT he forgives u because ur cat is literally named hot dog

this is highkey the most fun you've ever had on a shoot

like, you feel so comfortable with hyunjin

and every time you take breaks to peek at the pictures he's been taking

u like … literally stop breathing

he's so talented ;;

you eventually swap jackets and scarves and wander around more

and literal hours later hyunjin's like

“are u hungry”

u stare. “always”

he laughs. “do you wanna go to the convenience store and make ramen”

“i thought you'd never ask”

so y'all go to the conbini and pick out ya fave ramen packets

(and some chips and candy bc u have literally no self control)

hyunjin really tries to buy your food for you but you yell at him while ur checking out bc Boi. No.

the cashier: watched the two of you look at food and bump into each other constantly, touching each others arms and giggling the whole time

you: leave me the fuck alone hwang hyunjin or i'm calling the cops!!!

the cashier: ????????

u make ur ramen at the handy dandy hot water dispenser and carefully bring it back to a seating area in the park

“be careful it's hot!!!”

“hyunjin please, u act like i'm not a ramen pro”

“i just didnt want u to burn ur cute lil mouth, damn”

ur entire being goes WEE WOO WEE WOO

u literally almost choke on nothing and you just cough to try to play it off

hyunjin is having none of it

he's laughing his ass off

“wow that got you better than i expected”

“fuck off hwang”

he stands up to leave and u laugh and grab his sleeve

he's giggling before he even sits again

y'all eat ur ramen and chat more about school and hobbies

he tells u about this one time he almost got admitted into a cult

you: wow… pretty AND dumb

hyunjin, flustered: h-hey!

you tell him about how your cat is a rescue and his heart melts

there's a minute where you're staring at nothing in the distance eating chips

and hyunjin is just staring at you

his brain: hoe dont do it

his heart: doki doki

his brain: oh my god

“hey… are you still free all day?”

u look at him. “yeah, why?”

he opens a bag of gummies. “i'm supposed to meet up with some friends to go bowling in like an hour but i wanna keep hanging out. wanna come?”

you groan. “i'm so bad at bowling”

“we can be on a team,” he offers you a gummy bear and you take it. “i'll carry you.”

pls explain why an image of him holding you bridal style popped into ur head sgdhhf

“haha okay. as long as ur friends aren't lame.”

“they are, but i'll be there so it's fine”

“fair enough. i'm in.”

so y'all hop on a bus and head to the bowling alley that (apparently) hyunjin and his buddies frequent

(he's playing pickles with you in the back of the bus and you're giggling so hard that ur struggling to tell him to cut it the fuck out so you don't disturb the people sitting next to you)

((but also feeling his entire body press against you isn't the worst))

you've been to this bowling alley before

it's popular among younger folks because it's cheap lol

the two of you walk in and one of his friends immediately starts yelling

u freeze “dude i thought u said we were gonna be early”

he looked at his phone “we literally are”

this blonde kid is yelling hyunjin's name and ur wide eyed while u follow

“UR LATE”

“I'M NOT”

“IT'S 2:20”

“WE SAID 2:30!!!”

“TELL THAT TO LITERALLY EVERYONE WHO SHOWED UP AT TWO!!!!!”

hyunjin looks over to the group of his friends already bowling a game “oh”

u bust out laughing

hyunjin gets all flustered like “i-i thought it was 2:30!!!”

“who's ur friend, my perpetually late son”

“o-oh,,, this is y/n”

his friend sticks out his hand for you to shake. “hi, i'm chan. were you the model today?”

you grin “are you saying i look like a model?”

“OKAY!” hyunjin grabs your shoulders and you giggle when chan stutters without responding while hyunjin drags you to the counter to rent shoes and pay for a game

hyunjin is: flustered

he's all embarrassed because he was late and got yelled at by his fake dad

and then u went and,,,, u were so smooth with chan

he wondered if you had been flirting with him all morning because you actually liked him or,,, ur just a flirt

he grabbed your wallet out of your hand and shoved it in his pocket so that he could pay for your shoes and game for you.

“hyunjin!!!!!”

“you wouldn't let me buy you food and you wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me if you argue i swear i'll throw you down a lane”

you pout but you let him pay

and ur heart,,, it goes off, dude

like,,,, maybe,,,,,,, u would let him throw you sgdgshsh

y'all walk over to the lane his friends are on, bowling shoes in hand

“y/n!”

your face lights tf up. “seungmin!!”

hyunjin looks between the two of you probably six times while you hug before finally going “w-what”

you and seungmin look at each other, then at hyunjin

hyunjin: you know each other

you and seungmin, in sync: photography club

hyunjin: alright, well,

he announces to everyone your name and you were his new best friend and that if any of them had a problem with it they could talk to his fist

you, softly, but with feeling: f-fuck

y'all change your shoes and watch as his friends finish up their game

while they play, hyunjin points each person out and tells you their name, helping you learn all these new people

since u guys were twenty (20) minutes late, they were already almost done with the first game

they were all pretty good.

well. most of them were.

the guy hyunjin pointed out as jisung kept getting gutter, but he was having fun

everyone else kept getting strikes or spares and u were like oh god

you keep telling hyunjin that ur really bad at bowling

hyunjin: i'll teach you. it'll be like ghost.

you, softly, but with more feeling: f-fUck

you, realization washing over you: wait how would you even-

hyunjin: *giggles*

hyunjin's giggles.

send tweet.

the entire time you were entirely too conscious of how close he was to you

you could feel the burning on your shoulder, thigh, knee - all the contact points where his body bumped into yours

your knee bobbed involuntarily while you watched the game end, nervously anticipating your turn to hit the gutter

and suddenly, hyunjin's hand was gently placed on your knee

it stopped bobbing

you looked at his hand, then at him

he smiled, but kept looking forward

“relax. even if you're bad, i'll hype you up.”

it was barely above a whisper so you wondered for a sec if he was even talking to you

hhhhHHHHH THIS BOY

yall start bowling.

he was. not all talk.

like who the fuck is good at bowling

hyunjin, apparently

he fuckin. chucked that ball down the lane

it made a smooth curve and took out. every. pin.

you stared at the empty lane in disbelief as hyunjin got a couple high fives from his friends making his way towards you

"not bad, right?"

"bro what the fuck"

he laughed and held out a hand to help you up "we bowl a lot"

you didnt even process fully that he was pulling you out of your seat because it was your turn.

ur hands: sweaty

ur arms: spaghetti

ur vomit: on ur sweater already

not actually

u picked up the ball hyunjin had helped you pick and looked at him like a deer in headlights

"bro i havent bowled since i was six"

he giggled. "you can do this"

he walked with u and showed you his starting stance, gently adjusting the way your wrists twisted and patting your hip

u. tried to not blush. no word on how well you did.

he guided you through your walk up and when u let go of the ball..

…

……

YOU DIDNT HIT GUTTER

you SCREAMED

"BRO I HIT A PIN!!!!!!!!!!!!"

hyunjin gave you a Sick High Ten, laughing "now you gotta hit the other nine!"

you froze

fuck

the others were starting to calm down from the excitement of your first half-frame, anticipating your second hit

you watched your ball return from the lane n went over to grab it

hyunjin looked at you Once and was likr….. is that caspar the ghost

the color had DRAINED from you

u…. u hit a pin…… thats like the best u've ever done

n now you gotta TOP THAT?

"its like dancing," he said suddenly. u looked at him, desperate to hear advice in terms u understood. "even if you can go through the motions, it doesnt necessarily make you good. you have to trust your body to remember the motions, give it a little finesse, and that's when you start to get Really good."

you blinked at him

"was that supposed to be helpful"

"can you Shut the Fuck Up and Bowl"

you took a deep breath, adjusting your stance as hyunjin reminded you of the steps you needed to take

another breath

steps

swing

let go…..

roollllingngg…………

*HIGH PITCHED WAILING*

"I HIT FOUR PINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

hyunjin scoops u up in a hug, spinning you around

ur too busy SCREAMING to register whats happening until he puts you down

u stare at him a second

he stares at you

"GOOD JOB Y/N!!!!!"

you turn to seungmin, who also scoops you into a hug, the rest of the boys crowding around you

you didnt even have a chance to be embarrassed about the weird eye contact you n hyunjin made

or about how. everyone in the bowling alley was staring at you guys.

because like…… suddenly

you just made a bunch of new friends

and one of them

helped you hit a pin for the first time.

and maybe….

he was still holding your hand

and maybe that felt really nice.

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids #skz #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #stray kids fluff #hwang hyunjin scenario #hwang hyunjin imagine

90 notes · View notes

srcasticking · 5 years

Text

The Dream Chapter: MAGIC Song Analysis

New Rules:

If listening to New Rules didn’t give you whiplash, watching it sure will.

Like oh my goodness what happened to our babies?? But anyway it is, mildly intense? Especially if you aren’t expecting it. This shit is the club funk scene and literally does not mean what you think it does. Like reading the lyrics REALLY threw me off guard more than anything else.

It is just so funky?? And groovy?? And like makes me want to break out of prison?? What I’m trying to say is this song vibe checks you and doesn’t say sorry but you must respond ‘thank you’ because that is just this kind of song.

Run Away:

I’m going to pretend this isn’t my favorite track for a second.

This absolute BOP of a song is the title track we were blessed with? Holy guacamole! From a musician’s perspective, this is honestly the best song they could have released. It is catchy, it is melodically and harmonically interesting and different but familiar, and it is overall something you do not want to stop listening to.

Every listen brings a new experience, something you missed, maybe some lyrics, maybe a harmony, you wont know until you listen again. If I find a flaw in this masterpiece I’ll let y’all know, otherwise 5/5 stars, model pop song (with a bit of an alt twist!!)

Roller Coaster:

Respect Roller Coaster enthusiasts. Like, do you know that kind of taste you must have to immediately appreciate this song for what it is? (its great btw)

It’s not really my type of song, but I feel like this concept and album are meant to appeal to fans who are both around my age and older than I am. I’m not done with high school and I don’t even like thinking about the wild ride that is crushes and falling in love in high school.

So older MOA, please laugh at these silly things you probably went through and MOA my age and younger, we just gotta face the facts man: puberty n shit is the worst and TXT really came through with this album.

Poppin’ Star:

Woah man this is the kind of song where you just hear it once and you’re smiling and tapping along. Honestly what a chill bop. Made me a lil hungry?

Seriously, if you just want something calming to listen to that wont depress you, this song would be so good. The music is like popping? Idk if that makes sense, but like small doo wop vibes anyone?

Can’t We Just Leave The Monster Alive:

YO WAIT IS THIS KIND OF A D&D REF? CAUSE I LOVE D&D. I’M CLAIMING THIS SONG FOR THE NERDS.

Moving on, another chill bop. They really hit home for me on this one, as I can definitely pull the concept into both a fantasy world and real scenario. But tbh musically, it takes an unexpected turn at the chorus, like it builds, but then changes direction. This isn’t necessarily bad, in fact I think it fits the theme of the song quite well. I have nothing else to say other than I’m showing my DM this.

Magic Island:

Lowkey cryin a lil bit. If we don’t get an acoustic cover of this song soon, I’m gonna do it myself. Honestly the type of song you bring to like a campfire. Real sweet. Real simple.

I don’t know about y’all but I was swaying. I feel so relaxed and comforted by this place they have created for us. I hope I see MOA there soon.

20cm:

I’ll be honest, I’m a lil confused about this one. I mean like I get the story of the song and it’s really cute ngl.

But I’m more referring to the musical part of it. It’s a little hard to follow as a first time listener. Now, I was just reading the lyrics for most of it, but the track reminds me more of a freestyle (versed or rap) serenade rather than a song.

I think it’s a nice composition and the story is absolutely adorable, just not very traditional? Or I guess overly traditional? So I mean good on them for making a song that genuinely stands out so intriguingly like that.

Angel or Devil:

This is just Cat & Dog with furry culture being replaced by high school bad-boy culture. I am in no way complaining, Cat & Dog was my fav track of STAR. This goes pretty hard and really drives in the concept for this album.

This song is like me lying to my parents and then just like 😈 in my head. Idk if that’s a good descriptor or not but I certainly ain’t feeling these supposed angel vibes. None of the boys even look like angels anymore 😔 they look like they’re coming to take my money in a very gentle manner and viciously giggle as I rock out to every song on the album.

TL;DR

This was just my opinion. I found it hard to make comments on every track as honestly, some of them were just pretty average sounding and others were unique. My point is that music should make you feel something. Everything can be interpreted differently, the only thing I want you to take out of this is your interpretation. Enjoy the music bros, they put their hearts and souls into making it, so let’s put the same into listening and understanding.

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carinbarba32-blog · 5 years

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Good Music To Cheer You Up

In a broad sense, pop is any music based on memorable melodies, repeated sections (usually, however not at all times, verses and choruses), and a tight, concise structure that retains the listener's deal with these components. The trumpet group contains the instruments with the best register within the brass family. Music is created from small gusts of air which might be blown strategically into the trumpet with a purpose to cause vibrations inside the tube. It takes an excessive amount of talent, breathing strategies and personal energy to understand how and when to blow exactly the correct quantity of air into the tube to create different notes and completely different tones. Bettering these types of expertise can solely be acquired by way of the correct of correct trumpet coaching and observe with a certified teacher In some methods, the trumpet is simple to play. In different methods, it can be argued that it's the most difficult of instruments. On the simple side, it has only three valves; however some of the highest and most tough notes to perform on the trumpet require great air pressure within the lungs. Ross will not be scoring parochial points. He is writing a history whose American focus becomes extra important the more one inclines to ridicule the aesthetic infighting that has plagued European music for the reason that final world battle. After all, the intellectual gridlock in France and Germany was loosened by Cage and broken finally by American minimalists akin to Steve Reich, Terry Riley and Philip Glass. No matter one thinks of those composers' music, its modern influence is unattainable to disclaim, its future significance an open ebook which, to his credit, Ross doesn't try to shut. The bit itself is form of infuriating: Most of his examples actually share solely the first three or 4 quite common chords with the canon, so the whole premise is as silly as ranting about how many people rip off A Story Of Two Cities by beginning sentences with, вЂњIt was the.вЂќ But even when itвЂs disingenuous, the top half continues to be a superb example of what number of memorable songs use comparable constructing blocks. Good musicians out to make a dwelling (like Popper, who mentions money greater than a pair instances in вЂњHookвЂќ) figure out how those blocks match together fairly shortly, and whereas itвЂs sort of fascinating, itвЂs additionally type of depressing. As Popper sings on the finish of the songвЂs tongue-tornado bridge, вЂњWhen IвЂm feeling stuck and want a buck, I donвЂt rely on luck, becauseвЂ¦вЂќ well, http://Www.magicaudiotools.com/ you already know. But rock and roll appeared wild and harmful to many mother and father, particularly when they saw the horny dancing of a handsome younger singer named Elvis Presley. There was nothing they may do to cease their kids from loving rock and roll and being followers of Elvis, nonetheless. He turned vastly profitable and made rock and roll probably the most fashionable styles of music not solely in America, but the world over. Elvis had many hit singles, together with Hound Dog, Heartbreak Hotel and Jailhouse Rock, and he quickly became often known as "the king of rock and roll" or simply "the king".

Lead singer Adam Levine's squeaky Muppet voice grates my nerves, and his band members" dont even do something. The instrumental is a mellow acoustic guitar and a light synth that barely has any punch. Ah, I bear in mind after they launched solid pop music comparable to This Love" and the other band members truly did one thing. Those had been the days. This song features Cardi B as well, who's extremely well-liked proper now, and its most likely due to her that this tune is widespread. Her verse is decent, but there's really nothing of observe. So does anybody truly like this track, or is it simply that it is there? It isn't catchy, its very boring, and the instrumental is extremely bland, and I have a sense the one motive this rotten oatmeal of a track is well-liked is due to Cardi's verse. For as faithfully as they recreate their namesake, YouTube's '80s remixes actually remind me of a newer second. The internet music tradition of the late '90s and early 2000s was a period of speedy transformation, but at the same time as illegal file sharing accelerated music discovery, the shortcomings of the technology stored things grounded. MP3 collections took up vast quantities of digital space and had been playable solely via sure packages. And, like document retailer crate-digging excursions, on-line hunts did not all the time pan out: You may spend hours downloading a track, only to find out it had been mislabeled. A woozy, stop-start rat-a-tat of idle, context-free rap chatter Flex Like Ouu" is catchy in the identical way that toddlers are adorable even once they throw up in your shirt. Lil Pump, a.k.a. Gazzy Garcia — an elfin, 17-year-outdated South Florida rapper with pink dreads and braces — has recorded extra well-liked songs, including the No. three pop smash Gucci Gang," which was spoofed twice on Saturday Night time Stay." But Flex Like Ouu" higher captures Pump's ephemeral charisma. It also embodies the scene that spawned him — the mind-numbed, infinitely boyish D.I.Y. rap motion most sometimes called SoundCloud rap," for the popular audiostreaming platform that gave it life.Amper, alternatively, has an interface that is ridiculously easy. All you need to do is go to the website and decide a genre of music and a mood. That is it. You don't have to know code or composition and even music concept in an effort to make a tune with it. It builds tracks from prerecorded samples and spits out actual audio, not MIDI. From there, you possibly can change the tempo, the key; mute individual instruments, or swap out complete instrument kits to shift the mood of the tune its made. This audio can then be exported as a whole or as particular person layers of instruments (often called stems"). Stems can then be further manipulated in DAWs like Ableton or Logic.Generally it takes a bunch of Canadians to put in writing among the most quintessential American songs in music historical past. Whereas the band is 80 per cent Canadian (with one Arkansan in drummer Levon Helm), they remain one of the vital influential acts in 60s rock and their concert movie, The Last Waltz, stands as one of the greatest moments in rock history. With their 1968 debut, Music From Massive Pink , the Canadian troubadours (Robbie Robertson, Rick Danko, Garth Hudson and Richard Manuel) gave definition to the genre of ‘Americana' with their blues-meets-nation-infused R&B. Even probably the most casual music fan is aware of the chorus to ‘The Weight' and their tune, ‘The Night They Drove Ol' Dixie Down' is likely one of the best rock songs ever put to tape in regards to the Civil War.Critics and fans have discovered three ways to account for this whitening," Hamilton argues, each serving completely different agendas and audiences. The first draws a direct line from rock and roll back to blackface minstrelsy, implicating the music in an extended legacy of white-on-black cultural theft," and charging that Elvis, the Beatles, and the remainder simply stole" their sound from Chuck Berry and his contemporaries. The second contends that black music effectively self-segregated" within the 1960s, in keeping with the splintering of the civil rights motion along racial traces and new, radical expressions of black energy and pride, forging a brand new path into new musical genres and leaving white rock musicians to their own devices.

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thebandcampdiaries · 5 years

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Cyri – Paris

A brand new album from an artist with a distinctive creative approach.

Article Summary: Cyri is a hip-hop artist based in Rhode Island. His sound is a direct blend of hip-hop and R&B, with a refreshingly modern twist. Find out more and read on to get an insightful break down of the album tracks!

Cyri has just released “Paris”, a rich and unadulterated rap album. This release is a collection of great songs, each blurring the lines between different influences and exploring different creative outlooks from this amazing artist. There is nothing quite like a rap album that has a truly eclectic edge, and in Cyri’s case, he definitely managed to accomplish a diverse, engaging record.

More importantly, his vocal flow is distinctive and emotional. Some artists aim to solely entertain their audience. Others, on the other hand, are all about

The first song “Reaper” is a multi-layered soundscape with a kaleidoscopic intro. Just when you start immersing yourself in the complex arrangement, Cryi’s raw and edgy vocals cut through the noise. It’s a strong start to “Paris” and the highs just keep on coming.

“Tripping” starts off with a female vocalist and gentle piano notes with a vintage overtone. This is also interspersed with spoken word and pitch-shifted vocal patterns. The vibe of “Tripping” is reminiscent of classic R&B artists such as Frank Ocean and Kendrick Lamar, to mention but a few. This song is definitely one of the catchiest tracks on the whole album, and I really love how the vocal melodies seamlessly blend in with the rest of the track.

“Need U Back” is one of the most impressive songs on the record. It highlights the sophisticated production aesthetic of the entire album. There is also a fat low end in the mix that highlights the artists’ gritty vocal performance. Although this quality production work is always present in “Paris” it shines through on “Need U Back.” This is definitely one of the album tracks that truly pushes the warmth to the next level!

Cyri changes the tone of the album with the track “VHS Interlude.” This is an upbeat and catchy song that has an engaging lyrical composition. This is a dense track, with a lush, textural sound, that’s also quite catchy.

Following up, the artist explores the feelings of anxiety when you believe you’re going to lose the one you love. It’s relevant and universal subject matter makes “Love Song” one of the most enjoyable tracks on the album!

One of the standout songs on “Paris” is “Headspace”. The unique rhythm in this number echoes iconic rap artists such as Mac Miller and Drake. However, Cyri brings a fresh and creative approach to the track by interlaying “Headspace” with a diverse variety of instrumentals and vocal recordings.

“Time” is a deeply cinematic song that is rich with imagery. The repetition of “Let’s just keep on running” in this song will stay in your mind long after the track is over. “Time” has one of the funkiest beats on the record and it clearly evokes a classic R&B sound.

Although it’s a short number, “Left Me” has a distinctive and engaging lyrical flow. At just 28 seconds, it will definitely leave you wanting more. Because of the intensity and time-length of “Left Me,” it ended up being one of the most memorable tunes on “Paris”!

The last song on the album, “Loner”, takes the music in a different direction. There is a distinct emo pop overtone to the song, while Cyri still sticks to his hip-hop roots. It’s an interesting song that blurs the lines between different genres and shows off Cyri's eclectic influences.

Ultimately, what I really love about this release is the style of the production. The sound of this project makes me think of the work of many modern influencers - including XXXTENTACION, Lil Peep, and Mac Miller, only to mention but a few. The sheer combination of melodic textures, soothing atmospheres, and gritty trap-inspired beats is truly astonishing, giving this release a distinctive feel. On top of it all, Cyri’s unique vocal flow is absolutely outstanding. What’s really amazing about his delivery is that it’s so incredibly versatile. His vocals are melodic, yet soaring and energetic, making for a really unique and charismatic flow.

If you are a fan of great hip-hop with a modern twist, do not miss out on this release and keep this artist under your radar!

“Paris” is now available on Spotify, where you can stream the project in its entirety.

https://open.spotify.com/album/5bKMszVr1HwRGH0IJWx6QG?si=39xVNFgeQU6qZijcvCtT5Q

We also had the chance to ask the artist a few questions: keep reading to learn more!

I love how you manage to render your tracks so personal and organic. Does the melody come first, or do you focus on the beat the most?

Answer: The beat comes first because I can’t lay something down if I don’t have a good composition behind me, that I can turn into something special.

Do you perform live? If so, do you feel more comfortable on a stage or within the walls of the recording studio?

Answer: Not currently, no. I want to make shows people remember. I want to make the stages I perform on become living artworks when my songs come on, once I have the proper resources.

If you could only pick one song to make a “first impression” on a new listener, which song would you pick and why?

Answer: It always changes, at the moment I feel “Love Song” would be the best. It's relatable, and it's fun, but at the same time it's true! Who doesn’t want a love like they sing in a love song? Listening to songs like Differences by Ginuwine or a song like Lucid Dreams by Juice Wrld, these songs take that raw love you have for someone and put it into something that others can actually feel and not just bump.

What does it take to be “innovative” in music?

Answer: Take from your surroundings, and acknowledge that you’re transcribing everything into how you make your work. It helps to be like “oh, this is the song that inspired me. Let me try to make a track like that, but go ahead and put my own spin on it” and then you can keep building on that and look at the next song like how can I do better than I did, or how can be better than the person I’m listening to right now.

Any upcoming release or tour your way?

Answer: New songs are in the works.

Anywhere online where curious fans can listen to your music and find out more about you?

Answer: Through the music. Everything about me is within my music. If you sit down and really listen to the songs and the vocalization you can hear there's more to this then just a good song.

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hepataetis · 6 years

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ot7- how you met them

request: can you write a "how u met bts"?? like how you met them AND how you two got together? thankies ily more than life 💗

author’s note: thanks for the love and support! i’ll be happy to finish some requests uwu i might do a separate “how you got together” or else this one would be looong (also them boys be looking fly as hell)

gif originally posted by sin-taehyung

jin

you met jin at a small hole in the wall restaurant in Seoul. you worked there, being a waitress and chef at the same time, and he happened to be there avoiding fans and the press. you didn’t actually have a shift yet you still ate there, working and enjoying the solitude in the atmosphere.

you had definitely noticed jin, it was strange for someone so handsome and rich-looking to be eating at the simple café. he looked immersed in the book he was reading, and you couldn’t keep yourself from glancing at him every minute or so.

you couldn’t help but notice his jawline, or his soft eyes, or the gentle way he held the novel. there was no denying it—he was attractive. so even after you finished your coffee. you hung around, just to keep observing him.

when he finally got up to leave, placing money on the table, your heart sank. all of the time you spent staring you had been encouraging yourself to go over and talk to him. alas, it had been a few hours and you still hadn’t said anything. you felt yourself becoming more and more down about it. that is, until he slipped a napkin on your table with a message before leaving.

“I saw you glancing at me today, it’s hard to resist this handsome face 000-000-000 p.s. i was staring at you, too. :)”

yoongi

you met yoongi inside a vinyl music shop in America. he saw you and caught your eye, exchanging a smile, since you both acknowledged the fact that both of you were foreign. you separated after that, expecting to never see the other again. then, when yoongi was observing different software equipment, the sweetest piano melody filled his ears.

he was bewitched, frozen, and when the music stopped, he practically ran to the origin. stopping in his tracks, he saw you at the vintage piano at the back, starting to play another infatuating song he didn’t recognize. in any other situation, yoongi would have been too shy to approach someone he was so beguiled in, but since music was his passion, he wasted no time striding to you and interrupting you midway. as he started talking in Korean, you realised you couldn’t really communicate with him. you tried to explain this, and to your luck, he immediately changed to Japanese.

you two talked for hours, finally leaving when the shop owner kicked you out. after exchanging phone numbers, he asked “what was the song you were playing on the piano, by the way?” you beamed, explaining it was your own composition, and his heart practically soared out of his chest.

hoseok

you met hoseok as a new idol signed with bighit. you were introduced to bts at your first show rehearsal, with hoseok’s sunshine smile and namjoon’s reassuring compliments welcoming you. the boys decided to watch your performance, and to say they were shocked would be an understatement.

your act was different than any other idol, since you dressed, sang, and danced like the boy groups instead of sticking to the cute aesthetic of girl groups. you had a powerful yet feminine voice, and your song intended for debut had multiple difficult dance moves. when the song had reached its climax, with you performing a back handspring, you could hear hoseok’s scream cheering you on, which made you giggle.

after you finished, all of them clapped for you and gave you all hugs. the only one that didn’t flatter you with a remark was hoseok, who surprised everyone by giving you tips on your dancing. you happily complied, wanting to improve before you debuted, so you listened and tried to do what he suggested. the guys exchanged a knowing look before leaving. at first, you were dancing seriously, but after a while, you and hoseok were just being silly and running around the stage. you both stopped when bighit teased you for getting off-topic. as they reprimanded you, hoseok caught your eye and smiled, which practically made you melt, before slipping out.

namjoon

you met namjoon during high school. he was known to be the class president who was extremely smart and kissed up to teachers a lot. you, on the other hand, were more known by your peers as kind and empathetic.

because of this, you found yourself with many friends. you didn’t, however, have someone who you called your best friend. as an outcome, you found yourself without a partner for a project, searching for someone else. you decided to pick the class president as you never really talked to him and there was no harm in making new friends.

you plopped down next to him. “hi!” you said. he slowly looked up from his text book and stared at you. then he looked around to for someone watching, assuming you came over from a dare or something. that is, until you opened your mouth.

“do you..wanna be partners?” he gaped at you once again. “are you being serious? this wasn’t.... a joke, right?” he thought the situation was too good to be true since you were a bit too popular and a bit too pretty to be talking to someone like him. he looked reluctant, and a lil bit hurt, so you gave him one of you signature genuine smiles. “i want to work with you, honest.”

jimin

you met jimin after one of your ballet shows. he and hoseok had been dragged along by one of their friends and her boyfriend.

at first, jimin was a little reluctant to go, since his ballet memories consisted of harsh dances and bleeding toes. as they took their seats, he read the programme without any thought. once the ballet began, though, he was enticed by your stage presence.

he noticed you right as you leaped your way on stage, holding positions that he knew would be excruciating. he admired the way you danced, having control over everything your body did yet still maintaining a graceful and beautiful presentation.

to say the least, he was impressed. in fact, so impressed that he started to lean forward in his seat. the entire rest of the show included jimin looking for you and sulking when you twirled offstage. at the end, when everyone went onstage again, jimin was the first to give a standing ovation, catching your eye and smiling.

when everyone was exiting, he was determined to see you again and keep in contact. he grabbed a rose from one of the front decoration shrubs and made his way backstage. once he snuck his way in, he searched the hallways for the door that said your name. verifying it was you from the programme, he opened the door softly. you were sitting at your vanity, letting your hair down, when you spotted him in the reflection of your mirror and whipped around to face him. this boi, smooth as ever, walked over to you in three long strides and handed you the rose. “a beautiful flower for a beautiful performer,” he said with a wink.

taehyung

you met taehyung when the two of you were in kindergarten. you had been crying because you had to go to school instead of visiting your grandmother in the hospital. since tears and snot were covering your face, everyone steered clear of you.

everyone, except taehyung. he marched right over to you and demanded why you were crying “i can’t visit my grandma and she’s in the hospital.” you said, sniffling. all frustration and confusion was wiped away and taehyung was instantly empathetic to you.

he got you tissues and crayons, trying to distract you from thinking about it since there was nothing you could do at the current moment. you guys played games and made origami together, with you teaching him how to make a paper boat.

at the end of the day, you had completely forgotten about why you were so upset this morning, and your father was shocked when you jumped into his arms with a smile. taehyung decided to walk over since your father looked like he was about to faint. “sir, you should take her to see her grandmother, she was sad this morning.” “yeah, but tae helped me get over it!” you replied. your father was sent into overdrive and practically fell over, thinking how you had found a friend that was a boy. he hesitantly but greatfully offered taehyung a ride home, and tae accepted with much enthusiasm. (I mean, he was going to walk an hour home to the farm, anyways. Better have it be quicker and less tiring)

jungkook

you met jungkook at a pottery class. after shooting the “bts: run!” episode based on pottery, jungkook decided to take a class to create something for each of the bts members. he signed up for a private class that only had 6 people taking it. one of them, you.

you had only recently gotten into pottery after your friend gave you a handmade plate set. nonetheless, you were talented in pottery, and everyone noticed it. jungkook and the other students were amazed at the way you worked with the wheel, your thin fingers gently pulling up the clay. even the instructor complimented your skill, to your embarrassment.

jungkook had only been planning on watching you from afar until you accidentally made him break one of his pieces. at the end of the class, once the teacher was talking, your phone rang and you gasped, making jungkook accidentally drop his piece. it was the one he made for jin, and his personal favourite. you quickly declined the call and glanced at jungkook guitily, letting the teacher speak once again.

once the lesson ended, you rushed over to jungkook, bowing and apologising again and again. you offered to help him re-make it, and after seeing your talent, he wasn’t going to turn in down. you told him different tips your friend told you, and his final piece ended up being nicer than the one he had before. you apologised again as you took your bags before jungkook shyly offered you his number. you accepted with a dopey grin, leaving the workshop the happiest you had been all week.

(fun fact: jungkook ended up giving jin the piece he made for himself and kept the one you helped him make)

#𝓁𝒶𝓏𝓊𝓁𝒾 #bts #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts reaction #bts scenario #bts fluff #min yoongi #park jimin #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #withhelpfromjiae💖💖

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ughthatimagineblog · 6 years

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i’ll see you tomorrow, boyfriend

draco malfoy x reader | university!au

requested: Hey could I get a draco x reader au from his point of view where he meets her in uni and has a crush but tries to hide it? Maybe they become friends (he goes to her dance shows and orchestra performances and such) and he falls more and more until eventually he just blurts out that he's in love?

word count: 3614

warnings: abuse, draco being edgy, lucius malfoy, maybe ooc narcissa a lil bit (its been 5ever since i wrote anything even mentioning her)

a/n: this is an au soooo yeah idk how this went. i liked it. i added in extra plot to make it semi spicy. also if ur sensitive to abuse then pls go away no offense but youll be triggered and i dont want ppl to get upset so i warned u

She caught him. And he was trapped.

It was late winter. He was focused with school and everything was fairly easy. Platinum hairs like feathers ruffled in the cool wind under the hot sun and he took his time walking to his new class of the semester. He was majoring in Business and Biological Engineering. Nothing would distract him from that. He had a goal. Make his father proud.

Life had different plans. Of course Draco would fulfill his destiny of graduating in those majors, but not without a small distraction. Walking into one of the core classes he had this semester he saw her. At first it was a glance. She was beautiful. He lowered his head and took his seat a few rows behind her.

Class began not much longer and Draco could focus but hardly. He knew he shouldn’t have been distracted by some silly girl but this girl was far more than silly. He noted she had the class with a couple of her friends and he would hear her laugh often. Sometimes she would get called out by the professor and shyly quiet down, her face turning red. It made his heart beat. He found it strangely poetic to note he had one. For so long he had disregarded emotion and feelings. Now, he had a new start.

That ‘start’ began a year ago and life at university had grown on him. Nothing was to get in his way. He was a determined student who rarely spoke to people and when he did it was something snarky or completely neutral. The seas of his life were calm. They were fine. You were the storm on the horizon.

The first day with you

Draco could feel the sun and cool air on his skin as he crossed campus to his English class of the semester. He wanted to sneer. The sun was nothing but a large ball of gas and flame to him today. The sun was not supposed to be out. Just another class to pass and then we move on. He thought to himself, walking into the B Block building. He saw a few kids rush into the building before him and they held the door open for him.

He nodded a thanks, his mouth continuously in a tight line and continued to his classroom. It was fairly small. Only about twenty four students. He knew all of them from the past semester or the previous year. Taking a seat about halfway in between the front and back, he opened up his binder and notebook, waiting patiently for class to start. Of course that meant other people were talking in that time. It was the same chatter, Draco knew. About him.

“That’s Draco Malfoy.”

“I heard he didn’t need scholarships. His dad paid for his tuition.” “He’s creepy. I heard he never talks.”

“Really? I heard he’s mean.” “Probably, I mean how can you grow up with people like the Malfoy’s and not be rude.” “Malfoy? He’s a Malfoy?”

It was all the same and he had come to ignore it. It was best to go through school by himself than spend it with loads of friends. It was easier for him. If something were to disrupt that, he would be a goner. His grades would be a goner as well. His father would make him pay.

Class started not much but five minutes later and the professor began to introduce themself. “Hello, class. I am Professor Eva Beverly and I will be your advanced English Composition and Literature class. This class will be easy if you pay attention. One should always be prepared here and if not-” The professor was cut off by the door swinging open and a girl stumbling into the classroom. Your back was facing Draco, but he could hear you say ‘Thank you’ to an advisor in the hall. Once you turned around, his heart nearly dropped. You were stunning and suddenly, his facial expression was one of shock instead of mysterious resentment. “Miss Y/L/N. You are late.” The professor crossed her arms. “I know Professor Beverly, I couldn’t remember which block this class was on so I had to go back to the advisors. I reality I tried to get here five minutes early and-” “Take a seat.” “Yes, ma’am.” You had rambled. Draco, if it were anyone else, would have found it annoying. But it was you. ‘Miss Y/L/N’ If he could only learn your first name. He was in luck. Empty seats surrounded Draco and for once in his life, he thanked whoever would listen for being the kid not anyone would want to sit by. Of course anyone who had any sense that is. But this girl, Draco could see, did not as you chose the seat to his right, in the row in front of him. To your right, a blonde girl wearing a simple flannel was laughing and Draco took it that she was this new girls friend. He recognized the blonde from the beginning of the semester. The both of you were freshman. To his dismay, however, the blonde was also one of the girls whispering about him. He was a goner. No doubt she would tell his beautiful crush all about what a ‘creep’ he was. As Draco dwelled on this, he couldn’t help but how much less of a creep he would be. . . with you.

Four months spent with you.

Fortunate for Draco, the girl, who’s name he learned to be Morgan, had not spoken of him to you, which gave him the chance to speak with you. It was completely out of character, but he set limits for himself. He would not allow you to distract him. Too much. He was in for a disappointment. In a way, Draco was aware of this. In fact, he had been thinking about it on his walk to class that day. His walk, with you. “Do you have any clue the word count Professor Beverly wants to have for our essay this Friday?” You asked Draco. He shrugged slightly. “Shouldn’t be more than two pages or about nine hundred words.” He replied and you grunted, frustrated. “I was hoping it to be more.” He looked at you, a small smirk forming at his lips. He had learned a lot about you in the past month. Your favorite color, what music you liked. He knew of the latter by looking at your phone from his seat. When you used it in class it was to switch from Spotify to Pandora to the Music app and back and forth. You were quite indecisive with your taste and the connection in the class was spotty.

“What, like two thousand words?” Draco inquired. He also learned you were a performing arts major and loved literature as well. You actually were quite popular in the sense that you knew a lot of people and did a lot of things. You were in the theatre department, the University orchestra, a scout for the local charity and the choir. Right now, you had been stressed trying to balance school work with the outside activities. That upcoming weekend, Draco remembered you had both a choir concert and a charity event all in the same day. You also had three core classes out of four periods on four days of the week. He wished he could take some of the load off of your hands and it killed him that he couldn’t. You and Draco had been spending quite a lot of time together and you only started hearing the rumors about him a month after you were seen as friends. You didn’t believe them though. Draco had an intimidating look, but he was quite kind to you and had a fantastic sense of humor. You also found him extremely attractive. The past four months had been filled with you working around school and extracurriculars all with Draco’s help. He went home once a month but you would see him again the Monday following the weekend and he always helped you study. Eventually you moved to sit next to him rather than in front of him and you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at him every once in awhile. You and him did not compute well in your head though. There was something off about him. Something about his family seemed odd. He never spoke of his parents and when he did he used his father's first name but called his mother ‘mom’. You had asked if they were seperated but when he replied negative you left it alone. Unfortunately, this just added onto your worry.

On the other hand, Draco was also worrying about a similar issue. Over the four months his grades had went down by two points. He still had A’s but if there was something Lucius Malfoy didn’t notice, it would be how big of an arse he is. Draco couldn’t attend your events this weekend. And oh, how he wanted to more than anything. He had seen pictures of you at said events before. For the orchestra concert you wore a black dress that made you look stunning and at your last charity event, you wore a beautiful gown that made Draco want to kiss you right then and there. He wanted more than anything to see you look so magical in person, but this was his weekend trip home. He couldn’t miss it. Not on his father’s watch.

“So, can you make it?” You asked, knowing what the answer would most likely be. “No, I have to visit my father. He wants to make sure I’m doing well in school.” He wants to ask why my grades are still not as good as they used to be. He thought to himself. He subconsciously touched the unseen scars on his back from where his father had punished him many times before. “Ah, well tell your mother ‘hello’ for me. And be sure to give her this. It’s for Christmas. I am a few months late but it took me awhile to get ahold of it.” You smiled and handed him a small box you had quickly pulled from your bag. He opened the box to reveal a medium sized necklace with emerald gems. “Y/N. . . You really shouldn’t have.” Draco was speechless. It was beautiful. And for you to do that for his mother, it was baffling. He really liked you. “It’s alright, Draco. Let’s get to class.” You smiled, realizing you reached your classroom. You opened the door for him and you both entered, only for Draco to find it impossible to focus.

The ride home for Draco was impossible. He lived an hour and a half away and it was not long enough. He was only waiting for the dread of going home. Parking his car in the drive, he already saw his father in one of the windows. Checking the time, Draco saw it was six in the evening. Your concert had started and would end in thirty minutes and your charity event started at eight. He sighed, knowing he would be enduring a much worse night. Subconsciously, he clutched your present in his jacket pocket as he approached the front door, his suitcase in his other hand. His mother opened the door and he almost felt relieved, but the feeling quickly left him as he knew his father was still somewhere in the house. “Draco.” His mother smiled and pulled him in for a hug. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Mom.” He sighed in relief, wrapping his arm around her. “Come in, come in.” She ushered Draco into the house and he left his suitcase by the door, only to be greeted by his father. “Father.” Draco greeted. “Draco.” Lucius said, much less fond than his wife. “I understand that your grades are still not well. Is it still because of this girl?” Lucius asked coldly and Narcissa put a hand on her son. “Lucius, not now. He just got home.” She sighed and Lucius shot her a glare. “I will address whatever problems that need to be addressed. Draco?” He replied. “It’s not because of the girl.” He muttered, feeling small. “Is that so? You told your mother you met a girl about four or five months ago. When did your grades drop? Four or five months ago. Before then, nothing was wrong. Now you have some stupid girl around and suddenly your future is compromised.” Lucius spat and Draco felt his hand ball into a fist. “She’s absolutely not stupid.” Draco said, harshly. His father scoffed. “Oh really? Do you know where she lives? Do you even know if she has both parents? If she even has money?” Lucius scoffed and Draco aggressively stepped closer to his father. “She doesn’t have both parents at home but I’m twice the man you are so even I can look past something as petty as being against that.” Draco spat and was met with a sting on his cheek.

A sting, a gasp, a raised hand and the turn of a head.

The sting was delivered by his father's raised hand, causing Draco’s head to turn on impact and his mother to gasp and hurry to his side. Draco inhaled deeply, trying not to let the salt in his tears make his eyes go red. He turned away from his father to his mother. “Mom, Y/N gave this to me to give to you. She said it was for Christmas and it’s a little late and she’s sorry.” Draco calmly handed her the box. He turned to his father. “She also said to apologize for not getting anything for you because she doesn’t know much about you or your interests, but she says she promises to get you a gift for Christmas next time.” Draco said with a sour look. A tear dropped from his eye. “You don’t deserve anything she will ever give you.” Draco said, shaking with anger. His mother, behind him, had opened the gift from you and covered her mouth in shock. She saw the authenticity in the necklace and based on what Draco had told her about you, she knew that it must had cost you a fortune to afford that present for her. And here her husband was, insulting the girl who her son perfectly deserves, despite her social status. “Lucius.” She said with a tight lip. “What?” He snapped at her, his chin tilted high. “It’s not like he’s in love with the thing.” He spat and Draco balled his fists once more. “Actually. . .” Draco paused and looked at his crying mother. “I do.” She smiled. His father looked disgusted. “You what?” He asked. “I love her.” Draco confirmed and turned to the door. He grabbed his suitcase and pulled his mother close. “I’ll meet you every now and again, but I refuse to meet with him.” He whispered under his breath and pulled her in for a hug. He kissed her forehead before opening the door. “Where are you going?” Lucius asked, angrily. “A much better place to support the girl I love and I’m not coming back until you fix the way you see her.” He said harshly before slamming the door.

Draco stopped at a gas station half way back to Uni so he could change into a nice black shirt and some trousers. The argument at home only took thirty minutes so he was making good time. The only problem was traffic. When he did get to campus, however, he did memorize the building the event would be held in. He found a space to park and rushed in, catching the start just as the lights went down. There were a couple open seats in the back and he thought he spotted you towards the front but it was too dark to tell. He just waited patiently, not speaking to the others at his table.

A few people went on stage and spoke about helping children with cancer as well as a few other charities said people were helping. It wasn’t until a blonde woman on stage mentioned your charity that Draco really paid attention. “Now please welcome the founder for the Arts for Acknowledgment program, a program funded by donations here by students to fund educational programs and arts to acknowledge lost or underappreciated cultures, Y/N Y/L/N.”

And then a girl stood up in the crowd and Draco could no longer believe he had ever known you previous to that moment. You were stunning. He knew it was a black tie event, similar to a gala but you looked like royalty. Your hair was pinned back and your gown was a long and beautiful golden dress that had an off shoulder top but flared out to a large bottom.

And the way you walked so graceful onto the stage. The way you smiled to the crowd. He couldn’t help but snicker in contrast to the first day the two of you met. You clumsily falling into the classroom gave him the impression you would do poorly in heels. He was wrong. “Tonight, i would like to thank the help of my fellow classmates for supporting and donating as well as submitting suggestions and artwork. Thank you. I would like to thank my mother, for pushing me to pursue the goal of helping other people. By using my advantages to help those that had none. Thank you. I would love to thank my counselor who has helped me get through every anxiety attack or depressive episode I have had along the way. Really, without you I wouldn’t be as organized as I am with my life.” You laughed and Draco knew he was in love. He smiled. “And finally, I would like to thank my best friend, Draco Malfoy, who has been a silent push these past four months ton really put everything together. He has stayed up late countless nights with me to help put together final touches on payment plans, architectural deals or gallery organizations. Really, he should get some of the credit. I love that man for everything he’s done for me. Thank you.” Your words wavered in the last sentence and Draco’s world was paused. I love that man for everything he’s done for me. The words rang around his head like a pinball machine. Your voice wavered and it only happens when there was something behind your words you weren’t telling.

Draco felt an impulse and he decided to act upon it. “I am here.” He said as loudly as he could without yelling. Heads turned, yours being one of them. One of the women close to the stage looked appalled. “Young man! I don’t think-” “It’s alright.” You said, breathless yet a smile was glued to your face. The woman sat down with a huff and Draco made his way to the stage, his heart nearly exploding every step of the way. If he was wrong about this, he was about to embarrass himself in front of about, say, four hundred people or so.

He reached the mic and away from the mic, you spoke in a hushed tone. “I thought you were with your parents tonight.” He smirked. “You’re much better company.” He smiled and you mirrored his expression. “Ladies and gentlemen, this woman that stands before you is absolutely incredible. Yes, it’s true I stayed up countless nights to help, however, I barely deserve a mention. This project is hers and hers alone and to take any of the credit would be improper. How hard Y/N has had to work to get all of this done transcends me. But she has done it. For so many people. And she says she loves me for all I’ve done for her?” Draco spoke into the mic. “No. I love her for her generosity and all she’s done for you.” He stated, giving you a quick glance and noticed you were tearing up. He turned to you, but made sure the mic was able to pick up his words. “For me to let her go and be with someone else would break my heart.” His heartbeat accelerated. Little did he know, so did yours. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend? You are incredibly intelligent and ambitious with amazing morals. You are kind, funny, and smart both book and street and I would love to make you mine.” Some noises of adoration were heard from the audience. This only egged Draco on. He got down on one knee. “I have had to keep these feelings inside for the past four months. But Y/L, I love you. Very much. Be mine?” He asked and you nodded. There were cheers from the crowd. You could barely hear them once Draco stood up and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. Your heart was on fire. Once turned away, his arm did not leave your side.

You delivered the rest of your speech and the night concluded itself with food, music, and lots of talking. By the end of the night, Draco was walking you back inside your dorm after driving you home.

“I never knew.” You both ended up saying. You both laughed. “Neither did I.” You said, reaching your dorm door. “You looked stunning tonight.” Draco commented, cupping your face. “You look handsome yourself.” You replied before he kissed you once more. “Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow. . . Girlfriend.” Draco whispered after pulling away. You giggled and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boyfriend.” You replied and left Draco’s ears ringing with the word. Boyfriend.

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