#................................anyway hello <3

[luveline]

Ooo can we have a blurb where bombshell! R and Spence were either on a date or were about to have their first time but got called into work? They both look a little annoyed at being interrupted. The bombshell reader series has my heart 🥺

im picturing boyband reid here maybe <3 fem

cw suggestive content

“These are trick buttons,” you accuse. 

Spencer laughs for the tenth time in as many minutes, perhaps tickled under your hands, more likely that he’s just feeling the same rush of hormones (namely adrenaline) as you are. “They’re not trick buttons, it’s ‘cos your hands are shaking.” 

He takes your poor hands in his. “It’s okay,” he adds softly, “I can do it.” 

“I’m not nervous, I’m excited,” you say, less soft, more desperate than he is, or at least on the surface. 

“I know, I know–” He catches your lips in a sudden eager kiss, a hand jumping to your cheek to ferry you closer, the other sewing down between your two chests to work open his fiendish buttons. 

“See,” he says between kissing, “easy.” 

“I’d like to see this level of dexterity when you unclasp my bra,” you mumble, kissing with every bit of hunger and love you have for him, lips drifting to his cheek, and then down to his jaw. Your mouth opens of its own accord. Spencer lets a breath slip from him coloured with wanting, the most amorous sound he’s ever made under your hands as you kiss, and nip, and—

Your phone rings from the nightstand, a heavy, repetitive vibration. 

“Ignore it,” you say easily, climbing up over Spencer’s lap, hand to the side of his face and rubbing tenderly. 

“I was planning on it,” he says. He was shy at first, those first few kisses, but Spencer’s a person like any other and he squeezes your hips closer to his without further argument. 

Your phone stops ringing a half a minute later. You smile into his mouth, even more when his fingers climb the length of your spine to slip playfully under the clasp of your bra. “How many tries do I get?” he asks. 

You sit back just a touch to meet his charming gaze. “As many as you need, handsome… I’m very patient.” 

He pulls you in to kiss your neck just as his phone begins to ring. 

“It’s work,” he guesses, paused regretfully under your chin. 

“We don’t know that.” 

“That’s my ringtone for work.” 

You breathe heavily atop him. “Can’t we be late?” 

He smiles at you gently. “I’m sorry, angel. If we’re late again this week he might actually bite your head off.”

Things were so perfect. This was it, this was the moment you finally knew each other to the very core, and your stomach aches with how badly you want him. You're startled at the heat behind your eyes knowing it’s not gonna happen. 

“Not tonight,” Spencer says, like he can read your mind. Maybe he’d been thinking a similar thing. “But soon, okay?”

You wrap your arms around his neck. 

His phone stops ringing before he can catch it. Both of your phones ping with simultaneous text messages quickly afterward, before your ringtone begins again in earnest. 

He leans graciously toward the nightstand, allowing you to continue hugging him while also answering the phone. “Hello?” you ask. 

“Agent Hotchner’s calling you in.” 

You press your nose to Spencer’s shoulder. “Okay. I have Dr. Reid with me too. Please stop calling, we’ll be there as soon as possible,” you say, flustered. You hang up quick. 

Spencer pats your back with his fingers, palm flat to your shoulder, apparently the less gutted of the both of you at your missed moment. “Let me get you dressed, okay?” he says. “You’re too sulky. It wouldn’t have even been that good.” 

“How rude.” 

His teasing continues. “I’m serious. I haven’t been with anyone since that girl in Vegas–”

“What girl in Vegas?” 

“–and anyways,” he says, tilting your head back, his smile both playful and adoring at once, “you shouldn’t have been on top.” 

“Spencer,” you laugh, pressing your hand to your eyes. 

“I have a head full of statistics on female pleasure and I don’t need them to know you should be laying down when we–”

You kiss him. “That’s enough,” you say, pressing the tips of your noses together. “I get the picture.” Your arm curled around his neck feels right, and you’re heartbroken to let it slink back to your side, but you do. “I love you. I wish we’d chosen different careers.” 

“I love you, too, but I don’t. Then we never would’ve met,” he says simply.

You let out a happy breath. “I guess not.” 

Spencer hoists you off of his lap in an impressive show of strength, but then he dumps you in the mess of sheets, which is less lovely. “What do you want to wear?” he asks, springing up, heading straight for his closet. “I pressed your pinstriped dress yesterday, that would look cute with your stockings. And you won’t need a jacket, it’s hotter out there than it is in here. Why are you looking at me like that? We literally don’t have time for this.” 

You love him. You’re gonna rock his world when you get home. “The dress is fine.” You put your arms up in the air. “I’m waiting. And look! We’re half undressed already. How convenient.” 

#spencer and bombshell reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds

[hotpinkstars]

GIRL DAD OR BOY DAD? - sunday, boothill x reader

- or more clearly, to what gender would they want to have more, and general headcannons of them as papas ☺️

- brainrot brainrot brainrot BRAINROT AHHH... i love these guys and i can do a part 2 for others later but godd theres absolutely not enough dad stuff for these men (especially sunday... if there is its all yandere) so never fear novas here! ahem anyways enjoy

- warnings none! pure fluff!!! wc 711

Sunday is so a girl and boy dad.

Reason why I say this is because he likely needs an heir to take over his position when he gets too old to do so, but he also wants a baby girl he can spoil as well.

Don’t worry! He loves both of his kids the same! They’re the greatest things that have probably ever happened to him and he cherishes them with his whole life. He thanks the stars above every single day for the opportunity he received to be a father to multiple beautiful children, and thanks you for granting him the chance. 

Dunno, but I could see this man wanting a handful of kids. He wants at least one girl and at least one boy, but I could see him shooting for 3-4. Will he be around to care for them? Not all the time, but he tries his hardest (and he definitely has the resources to care for that many).

Considering they’re half halovian and half human, they look pretty much just like their father! Some have your eyes, but they all have his hair. His hair and his gorgeous wings. They have your features though, such as your face, body type, etc.

His favorite part of the day is when he gets to collapse on your shared bed, his kiddos following behind him to cuddle their dad, and most of the time you all fall asleep together. Normally, you wake up just you and him because he’s good about putting them in their own bed once they fall asleep.

Once his kids get older, he’ll teach his son(s) combat and good form. He wants them to protect, and wants to raise them to be strong and independent. With his daughter(s), if they ask to be taught combat, then he won’t see much of an issue with it. He also wants to teach them independence, but in a more subtle form. 

Just expect that his children as teenagers are going to be the prettiest kids around holy shit. They’re obviously enrolled in a private school due to their fathers high status but they always come home and list the compliments they’ve received that day. Thankfully you two have raised them well enough for them to realize that it’ll be bad if all of these get to their head and stroke their ego too hard…

Supportive father asf! All I’ve gotta say here

Don’t play Boothill is SO a girl dad hello have you met the man

He’s so excited when his little girl is born ahh he’s always dreamed of being a father to a girl and his dream has officially come true!!

Obviously, if you had a boy, he’d love him the same. He just wants children of his own tbh lol

His daughter knows western culture fresh out of the womb my friend. It’s like she was born for little cowboy boots and the cutest little cowboy hat. She’s even got a western name, he brought it up and you liked it, so the name you two settled on was Cassidy.

She has his hair! It’s absolutely gorgeous once it starts coming in- a pearly white color with little black streaks stemming from the roots. She has your eyes and your face, and his slimmer body type (before he was turned into a cyborg. This isn’t canon I actually have no clue what he looked like pre cyborgification lmao).

Oh lord, your daughter is so spoiled. On every mission he goes on he’s always bringing something back for her. It could be a super fancy necklace or even just a little trinket he picked up from a street vendor, but she has a whole shelf full of the things her daddy gives her.

She thinks it’s so cool he has a metal body. She asks about it alot but she’s really fascinated with it tbh. She likes to call it “daddy’s special feature!” and he always melts to that sentence gosh

He probably teaches his daughter how to use a gun when she gets older. He, similar to Sunday, wants his daughter to learn self defense tactics and learn how to fend for herself when necessary.

She totally has his accent. Change my mind period.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai #honkai x reader #sunday #sunday hsr #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #sunday x reader

[maxwellatoms]

Hello Mr. Atoms, I'm an animation student in college and fan of your work. I got this assignment in which I need to ask questions to a professional in the area. Could you pretty please answer them? It'd mean a lot to me.

1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.

2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?

3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?

4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?

5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?

Okey dokey.

1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.

Not really, in that there seems to be no career left.

The animation industry swelled its numbers greatly before 2020. Almost immediately after that, corporate greed synergized with a pandemic to reduce animated programs and the number of people working on them to almost zero. It takes almost a year from beginning to end to make a single episode of an animated show (by the modern standard). There was nothing being made in 2020 and four years later, we''re not in a much better spot. It's going to be a long drought for (especially) Kid's TV Animation.

Recently, many of my former co-workers have hit the financial wall and can't continue, moving away after (sometimes) 20 years in the industry. I begin to wonder if I'm very far behind.

A "bounce back" a year from now would need to start today. There are still some animated shows being made now, but those are almost universally "library" properties. That means it's an existing I.P. (Intellectual Properties like Garfield/Mario/Batman/Star Wars) so as an artist you're immediately in that box. Depending on the property and the studio, it can be an unpleasantly tight box. I grew used to holding and maintaining the vision for a show, but it's less fun when it's not my vision. It's even less fun when you can't inspire someone to follow your vision because they've been so ruthlessly abused.

I'm pretty sick of how big media corporations treat their employees. If I inherit one more burnt out crew due to mismanagement, I'm gonna lose it.

Over a decade ago I fought hard to get board artists story credit for the episodes they were actually writing, and felt like I'd won a big victory for everyone. The second my back was turned, it all reverted.

Mostly... what is the point now? My career is/was developing ideas, crafting those ideas into a workable show, then managing teams of thirty to seventy people to produce a couple of dozen episodes per year. Studios actively do not want new ideas right now, and are actively searching for ways to eliminate what artists from the process. I'm not sure what my job would be under this new system, but it feels like they decided to hang onto the anxiety-inducing deadlines while removing anything remotely pleasurable from the experience.

2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?

It's the only way to get anything done, currently.

The current state of the industry is not sustainable. I (along with a lot of other animators I know) are trying to decide what's next, and pretty much everyone agrees that "you just have to make something".

It is (in that very specific way) a great time to be a young animator. The system was never going to treat you well anyway. If you can get something like a Hazbin Hotel happening without studio help, you can currently write your own ticket. I'm super proud of Vivsie, because that's a LOT of stuff to handle. I never had to handle my own marketing or drum up money to make Billy & Mandy happen.

There are opportunities there, but it's definitely "Hard Mode". The best idea is probably to team up with a few other people you like and like to work with.

Hopes? I hope that the young animators take over and make something new on top of the bones of the old industry, rather than just allowing that industry to patch its rotting hide with their collected works.

3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?

I suspect true AI might just peace-out like ScarJo in "Her", but we're not there yet. What we have now isn't Artificial Intelligence at all (though I do believe it may be the underpinnings of the Artificial Suconscious of what may one day become an actual Artificial Intelligence.)

The LLMs and "Generative AI" are (so far) a big dumb waste. They consume tons of energy and aren't great for doing anything creative. If you've sat down with Chat GPT for a creative writing session, you've probably run into the "out of the box" limitations which prevent it from talking about sex or violence-- which happen to be a major component of most stories.

Still, the technology has come incredibly far in an incredibly short amount of time. I imagine we're going to hit the point where we're being hazed by artificially generated political ads way before Generative AI can produce a consistent and usable character turnaround, so that'll be the test. Whatever the legal fallout is from this stuff over the next few years will set the tone.

Still, studios have a vested interest in pleasing their shareholders. Generative AI potentially has the capability of not only replacing swaths of money-eating artists, but handing that control directly to the billionaire studio heads. Mark my words: We're headed straight for billionaire-generated content.

I don't think the public at large will want to watch Elon Musk's fever dreams, so there's that. So law and general distaste might stave it off for a while, but I think there's just too much impetus for studios to continue to try to please their investors. "AI Art" is here to stay.

Eventually that will lead to millions and millions of bots generating millions and millions of songs and paintings and movies all day every day. Most of it will be utter trash. Right now (so I'm told) viewers are already burnt out, and will generally only click on what they already know. On Netflix, where there are twenty things you've never heard of and one you have, you're more likely to pick the thing that gives you comfort and gives you a guarantee you're not wasting your time. With exponentially more A.I. trash, how would you even begin to filter it out?

You'd need absolute control of an already existing distribution system. We currently have a few of those, and all of the media companies are desperately trying to merge with them to insure their own survival.

To me, the post-Gen-AI landscape looks a lot like old-school Cable, but with endless I.P. and fewer masters.

4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?

The real question is, maybe, "What am I even doing?" These days I try to do a lot of gardening. I'm trying to learn new art skills, because suddenly twenty five years of experience managing, drawing, and writing isn't worth much. I recently worked on Jellystone until Zaslav lost 2.5 billion in the wash and had to find justification for his new yacht. The show before that? Also culled midway through to save money. The days of multi-year gigs seem to be over, and if I'm going to scrape by doing freelance, maybe I can do that somewhere else.

I'll always make art. I can't seem to help it. Ideas aren't my problem-- it's executing those ideas without the help of a structured pre-existing system. I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to pull that off. My strengths are great, but were always supported by friends I worked with.

Can I start an indie cartoon with all of these cool friends? Sure, maybe. Most of those people have gone on to have other careers of their own and got used to being paid. Now nobody is getting paid and no one can pay anyone else. My immediate circle are all now middle-aged people with families and no jobs. Convincing them to give up a large chunk of their day for an idea that's not guaranteed to pay off is going to take some real effort.

I technically have fifteen years until I can claim my "retirement", assuming that still exists by then. That's a pretty big hole to fill with... I don't know what.

The difficult "What comes next" discussions at home are really just starting.

5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?

There are a lot of cool animation people out there. I already mentioned I was proud of Vivsie. I was also reminded recently just how great C.H. Greenblatt and Mr. Warburton are. I know they're my friends. They're both just really upstanding, creative people who take good care of their crews.

The treatment of animation industry professionals by the studio system has been one of the most demoralizing and heartbreaking parts of this demoralizing and heartbreaking time.

---

So there ya go. If you want to look for someone whose attitude is a little more upbeat, I won't blame you a bit.

Wherever you are, I wish you the best of luck. For me, just climb up there and crush it. I would very much like to add you to #5 someday.

#maxwell atoms #animation industry #grim reaper

[godslino]

IN BLOOM | jisung first date series. second chance lovers.

pairing: jisung x fem!reader word count: 13.2k genre: childhood friends au, angst, fluff, songwriter!jisung, florist!reader warnings: swearing, minor character death, grief/loss (nothing to do with any of the members!) summary: it's february. the tulips are in bloom. jisung is back.

chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

a/n: *taps mic* hello?? is this thing on?? oh good. yes. hi. hello! it's been a while, as most of you can tell. thank you all SO MUCH for sticking around. if you've been reading my asks you'll know that march and april were rough months for me personally. shout out to my anons and mutuals who kept my spirits high and made my days brighter. uhhh, this was originally supposed to be a stand alone fic but i figured hey, what the hell, and made it into jisung's first date chapter. it's pretty heavy stuff. lots of feelings, lots of love. i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it! again, thank you so much for waiting for me. i'll be back soon with more updates! all the love <3

also thank you kenzie for being such a light during all of this. i hope all my screaming in your messages was worth it!

“All of these had to be pulled.” Hyunjin huffs, dropping a few crates just past the doorway. 

“Again?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stare at yet another wasted supply. “I don’t understand, they sold so well last year.”

Hyunjin gives you a sad smile. “It’ll pick up eventually, don’t worry. I mean the holidays just finished and business usually slows down in the months after anyways.”

He’s being sincere, you know that. But there’s a part of you that also knows it’s a lot more than just the usual ebb and flow of sales. He’s being nice for your sake.

“Maybe we could try coming up with other ideas?” he suggests, because Hyunjin is nothing if not kind. Always willing, always finding a way.

He moves past you to grab a fresh pair of gloves. The ones he’s wearing are dirty, pollen-stained and ripped at the edges. 

“You’ve always been really good at basket arrangements. We could try to make some for Valentine's Day. Different sizes, maybe? The big ones will probably do well for online orders since they’re more optimal for things like office deliveries and stuff like that.”

You hum in approval. “True. I mean, I was kind of worried we would have to skip out on deliveries this year since we don’t have the manpower to handle all of that, but I think Jeongin’s been looking to pick up hours around here again. He said something about his program giving them a month of independent study, so he’ll be home for a bit.” you say, scribbling down a reminder in your notebook. “I could ask him to help with driving the truck in his free time?”

Hyunjin lights up– he always does when Jeongin is mentioned. 

It’s been a lot quieter ever since he left for college. There were so many tears and so many hugs that were met with countless 'you guys are dramatic's in return. But it’s hard to not feel sad when people leave town; when they decide the borders lined with apple trees and rice fields aren’t enough to stop their dreams from blooming into more than what’s capable of being pursued here.

That, unsurprisingly, is something you know all too well.

“Can’t believe he’s driving.” Hyunjin laments as he wipes his floral scissors with a rag. “I used to spend my days changing his diapers and spoon feeding him redbulls– but now? Driving? My baby is all grown up.” he fake sniffles. “By the way, I’m gonna take my fifteen after I’m done snipping these tulips.”

You snort, bending down to take the crates of wilted flowers to the back for disposal. Hyunjin moves to help but you shake him off.

“Sounds good. Also, don’t let Innie hear you say that. I’m about a thousand percent sure he has the strength needed to throw you into the dumpster with one arm now.”

“My baby would never do that to me!” Hyunjin calls out as you round the corner, bumping open the back door with your hip. 

February brings a lot of rain in Jeju. Today is no different; fat drops landing on your head as soon as you stumble out into the alley behind the shop. Footsteps heavy on wet brick, you curse under your breath as you run as fast as you can to the dumpster.

There’s still a few supply boxes from yesterday’s shipment laying around. You meant to bring them in, but you were so exhausted that it slipped your mind while you struggled to make sure everything inside the shop was figured out.

Scrambling, you haul them in one by one, shoes squeaking against the floor as you alternate in and out, soggy cardboard pressed against the front of your apron. 

Hyunjin’s on break. A necessary one at that. You can’t bother him, especially not when he’s done enough by taking on more responsibility both as a physical worker and a newly actualized business partner recently. A few stacks of boxes and wet hair seem like a fair trade off for what he’s had to sacrifice in the past year now.

“Idiot,” you mumble, cursing yourself for carelessness. Your slip ups have been more frequent lately, evident in the way you constantly forget things and can’t seem to push away the haziness clouding your mind. 

If it weren’t for the timing of it all, you’d blame it on the weather. The gloominess. The overcast skies probably have some sort of hand in your lack of clarity. Shrouded.

But it’s February. And in Jeju— it rains.

By the time you make it back inside, you’re drenched. 

“You look like you just got dunked in a pool.” 

You frown, ringing your hair out into the trash bin by the door. It’ll definitely take time to dry off, both your hair and your clothes are soaked through.

Hyunjin watches with an amused look, arms crossed as he leans his back against the counter.

“Might as well have. It’s insane out there.” you sigh. “How was your break?”

You look up to find that his face has gone unreadable.

“Yeah, about that…” Hyunjin trails off, voice suddenly smaller than before.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah it’s just–” Hyunjin chews at his bottom lip.

You push past him into the supply room to switch out your apron just as he says, “Do you mind if I leave a little early today?”

You scoff, turning to face him. “Hwang Hyunjin,” you scold, lips twitching when he visibly startles at your tone, “You don’t have to ask me that. We’re partners now, remember? We run this place.” 

He shifts on his feet, still unsure.

“Besides,” you huff, tying a knot behind your back, “We were friends way before that, too. You don’t have to be all proper with me. Of course you can leave early. It’s slow today, I can take care of it.”

Hyunjin sighs after contemplating for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?” 

When he stares at you for a moment too long, you know the real reason for his hesitation. It makes something twist deep in your gut.

Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.

“Of course.” you shrug, doing your best to seem nonchalant. 

Hyunjin’s ability to read people is kind of intense, a little scary at times. You happen to be one of his favorite subjects in that regard.

“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”

He pales, sputtering around words as he struggles to say something. It’s cute, his plump lips opening and closing, eyes wild.

“I’m not going to see her! I’m–it’s just a movie! How did you—God, you’re so annoying. I should’ve made you trim the tulips. Hah!”

You giggle. “It’s funny that you think I wouldn’t know, especially with the way you love to actually make yourself look busy whenever she stops by to say hi.”

“I am busy.” he mumbles, looking away. “I just emphasize it a lot more when she’s here.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, “Let’s go with that.”

He whines a couple more times, trails after you around the shop and laughs when you swat him away with a rolled up newspaper that’s used for wrapping vases.

It’s loud. Easy. Hyunjin is a gentle reminder that normalcy still exists in your day to day, even if it’s hard to find. 

When he finally decides to leave, he lingers for a moment, triple checks that you’ll be okay. You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time today, but deep down you’re grateful. 

“Love you,” he says, one foot out the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

You shake your head, ignoring him. “Love you too.” 

And then he’s gone, a skip in his step as he heads down the sidewalk, leaving you with nothing but freshly-trimmed tulips and the sound of rain. 

“Herb snips, shears, tape…” you mumble, scanning the supply shelf. 

There’s not much to do in-shop right now. Almost all the arrangements have been tended to by Hyunjin already, his specialty being his keen eye. That’s why he handles the appeal of the shop, leaving you to figure out all the logistics. Learning it all was easier said than done.

In reality, it was never your intention to take over the shop at all. 

“When I die,” your grandma would always say, ignoring the way you groaned and begged her to stop bringing it up, “Sell this place. Use the money for something worthwhile. A trip to Greece, maybe?”

“Nana,” you would scold, glaring at her where she stood next to you, trimming a batch of roses.

Wrinkled hands that still held all the skill of youth. Fingers moving at a speed others could only ever dream of having– you included.

Your grandma handled flowers with the same amount of care she did everything else. It’s no wonder that when they grew they would lean in her direction, drawn to her like they would be the sun. 

“I’m not selling this place. It’s too special, too important. A vacation only lasts so long, Nana. This is forever.”

She would smile, turn petals over in her hand. Sometimes the marigolds would match the glow in her eyes, a testament to the belief you harbored as a child that she had the ability to sprout blossoms from her fingertips.

“The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.”

You wish you hadn’t been so hard headed. Wish that you would’ve believed her, taken the time to listen, cherished the moment a little bit longer instead of relying on the promise of tomorrow.

I’m sorry for your loss.

Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.

She’ll be with you in your heart, forever.

Oh, what a lie forever is.

The shop stays empty for the rest of the day. There were a few passersby, all of whom simply stopped to scan the arrangements along the windows before giving a polite nod and carrying on their way. 

Realistically, the shop has no problem with attracting customers. It’s a sight to behold: mid-floor to ceiling windows with various displays, hanging baskets of winding greenery, countless arrangements that fill the shelves and add a pop of color, and a wide assortment of flowers for each season. 

The real issue lies in your inability to sell. Most people regard the place as being good for nothing more than window shopping and the usual photo-op.

Business has slowed since your Grandma passed; since you took over as the sole owner and were suddenly face to face with the task of making decisions in the shop’s best interest– both integrity wise and from a business standpoint.

“I know, I know,” you say around the pen cap between your teeth, “You used to be the brains around here, not me. I’m not creative enough for all of this, you know? No matter how much I try to be.”

You look up from where your notebook lays open, dozens of scribbles for arrangement ideas and planning. The picture on the wall stares at you, unmoving, eyes as bright as marigolds.

“Don’t give me that look.” 

She stares. A gaze that holds all the answers while also saying nothing at all.

“Ugh.” you groan, leaning your palms on the desk.

You allow your head to hang forward, defeated, exhaustion flooding your bones. 

Just as you’re about to speak again, to complain about yet another thing that probably has her rolling around in her grave, the bell at the front counter dings.

The clock on the desk reads 6:55pm, five minutes until close. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

“Be right there!” you call out, rushing to grab your apron from where you’d thrown it on one of the chairs. 

In your haste, the box of seed packets you’d been inventorying goes tumbling to the floor.

“Fuck,” you mutter, bending down to pick everything up. One more thing to add to the list today. 

Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted. 

You sniffle a few times, blinking against the sting behind your eyes as you stand up to put the box back in its place.

One deep breath, a shake of your shoulders. Just enough to chase it all away until later. 

“Sorry about that,” you say cheerily, pushing past the hanging beads that separate the front of the shop from the back. “How can I help you?”

There’s a stranger, his back turned, attention focused on a batch of tulips. Freshly cut. White, blue, purple.

You realize, belatedly, that you’d forgotten to grab your apron in your haste to clean up the seed packets. Another slip up. Nana always prided herself in her apron, wore it like a badge of honor, raised you to do the same.

Just as you spin around to grab it, the stranger says, “It’s okay. I just, um, I wanted to say hi.”

You freeze. There’s a long moment where his voice rings loud in your ears, reverberates against the walls of your brain until it travels through your blood, the feeling like wildfire in your veins until it settles deep in the pit of your stomach. 

Slowly, you turn, heart clamoring in your chest, threatening to stop altogether as soon as you come face to face with the one person you never thought you’d see again.

Because there, at the front of the store, is Jisung.

Jisung, with wide eyes and parted lips. Jisung, with hair that still curls at the ends and falls in shags around his face. Jisung, broader, more actualized, now grown into his features but still undeniably soft around the edges. Jisung, with thick framed glasses pushed up his nose and silver hoops dangling from his ears. 

A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung. 

“You look…nice.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand.

Three words is all it takes. Ice turns to fire. The blood that had drained from your face returns with the blaze of a thousand suns, anger burning your throat. 

You reach forward, grab the remote for the neon Open sign and click the power button. Jisung watches in confusion.

“The shop is closed.” you manage on a shaky breath.

Jisung sighs, something heavy. “Listen, I’m—”

“The shop–” you try again, louder, “–is closed.” 

Jisung stares. His eyes are still the same velvety brown; big and round and just as you remember. 

There was once a time where the sight of Jisung in your Grandma’s shop made your heart sing. A soft tune, the thrum of a thousand harps, a song only for him.

His heart-shaped smile as he helped her hammer some of the shelves onto the wall. The sound of his laughter whenever you’d enter a sneezing fit from accidentally rubbing your face with a gloved hand. His rosy cheeks, burnt from the wind whipping past his face as he ran on foot to make sure you were okay the one time an angry customer smashed a vase on the floor and you called him crying.

But now, seeing him here, a stranger in a body you once knew like the back of your hand— it feels wrong. 

“I…” he trails off, registering the way your fists are clenched at your sides. 

“Okay,” he resigns, licking his lips. “I, uh– have a good night.”

He gives you one last look, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and then slips out the door. You watch his retreating figure through the glass panel, dark gray skies muting the sound of your rattling heart.

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is back.

And in Jeju– it rains.

There’s an apple tree in the middle of town where Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. 

Off the corner, a few minutes down the road from where your houses stand a mere five hundred feet away from one another.

Your grandparents were farmers. Your grandma started her floral business a few years before you were born, a dream she always had that your grandpa urged her to pursue once he decided to sell the animals to a younger, more capable couple that could take care of them. 

Jisung’s parents, new residents on the island, looking to settle down and start a family. 

That’s how it happens. Yours and Jisung’s story, two authors of the same book, destined since the start.

Jisung was born on the same night your mother left you at your grandparents’ doorstep. One note, an apology, is all you’ve ever known about her. Your grandma never cared to indulge you. You’re glad in a way. She provided more than enough love to make sure you never felt an absence in her wake. 

The townspeople used to say you and Jisung were soulmates. Something about the heavens knowing he would need a friend, hence why you were delivered that night. From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable. 

Attached at the hip, you and Jisung grew up together. First steps, first birthdays, firsts for everything under the sun.

Jisung was there in the morning to walk with you to school and he was there at night when the two of you tucked into bed, sleepovers a regular occurrence, both of you counting the pale green stick-on stars dotting his ceiling until you fell asleep. 

Jisung was always around. He held your hand and walked with you to the nurse’s office the first time you got stung by a bee. He wiped your eyes when the boy you liked told you he only ever saw you as a friend, your first rejection. He sat with you under the stars the night your grandpa died, your face tucked into his neck as you stained the collar of his shirt with tears until you were too tired to cry. In the years that followed, he took care of you and your grandma like the two of you were his own. 

Jisung, for lack of a better word, was your first forever.

“You could come with me, you know.” 

Under the stars, real ones that time, Jisung had turned to you and offered the world. 

The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll be together, we’ll experience new things. I can do music and you can study all that history stuff you like to learn about. You know, nerdy things.”

“They’re not nerdy things, Ji. Don’t you know everything we have now is because of what’s happened before us?” you’d asked. “Doesn’t it make you wonder? Learning about the past helps us better understand the present, and ultimately the future.”

Jisung had hummed softly, an agreement. “I don’t care about the future, though.” he’d said. “I care about right now. You, me, this.” 

When you turned to look at him, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at you from above as the moon casted a halo around his head. 

“I love you,” he whispered, “And I want you to come with me.”

Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the ambition to make it his own. 

You, with all your hopes stuffed tight into a suitcase and chained to a boulder, thrown into the ocean. Sinking and sinking until it hit the bottom.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

Images of marigolds flashed behind your eyes when you closed them, a tear rolling down your cheek. Jisung’s mouth was soft when he kissed it away, salt on his lips. Burning. 

“But I can’t.” you choked. 

Under the apple tree, Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. He promised that the distance would be no match for him, that he would traverse oceans to find his way back. He promised forever.

It was February. The tulips were in bloom. Jisung left to pursue his dreams with a guitar on his back and your heart in his hands. Your understanding of forever was shot at point blank. The bullet passed clean through you. 

And in Jeju– it rained.

“I think you should talk to him.”

The sun is out today. Perfect weather for another field harvest. The distributor had called you early in the morning to ask if you’d be willing to accept a drop off even though it’s the weekend. You’d agreed, calling in your most reliable help for the job.

“And I think you’re not helping.” you huff, snipping the head off another hyacinth.

“Agreed,” Hyunjin parrots from beside you, currently in the middle of putting together an arrangement, “This guy sounds like a total dick.”

Chan sighs from behind the two of you, his knees knocking against the legs of the desk when he swivels back and forth in the chair. 

Besides Hyunjin and Jeongin, both of whom moved into town after you’d already graduated, and of course, Jisung– Chan is your oldest friend. 

Chan was also a neighbor of yours. Three years older than you and Jisung, he was the one who acted as a role model for the two of you when growing up. Nowadays he helps his parents run the largest orange grove on the island during the day and DJs one of the clubs in the tourism hub at night. 

“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”

“An asshole.” you finish, smirking when Hyunjin cackles. 

Chan sighs. Again. “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that one.”

“Listen, I know I’ve never met him, but isn’t it weird that he just, like, showed up?” Hyunjin asks, setting down his scissors. You continue trimming the hyacinths, listening halfheartedly.

“I mean, think about it. Dude disappears to pursue music, right? He’s gone for what– three years?”

“Four.” you correct.

“God, even worse.” he grimaces.

“But yeah, okay, four years. And then boom! He just strolls in through the front door without so much as a word during the time he was gone? No letters, no phone calls, not even a damn visit. Nothing! All so he can pop up and go ‘oh, you look nice’? Come on.” he scoffs, crossing his arms.

You wince, caught off guard because you’ve never really heard it phrased as bluntly as Hyunjin put it just then. It’s no surprise that he’s annoyed, having only just heard the full story thirty minutes ago. He’d been shocked, partly because you never told him and also because he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Okay, yes, he was wrong for that. But isn’t part of you even just the least bit curious as to why?” 

You pause mid-snip, mulling Chan’s words over in your head.

The most frustrating part about it all is that you are curious. You wish you weren’t, though. Not when you’ve spent the past four years trying to convince yourself that you don’t need to know what Jisung’s been up to, don’t need to know if he’s been okay since he clearly held no concern for you in that regard anyways.

“What?” you ask when you realize that both boys are staring at you. 

“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”

You shrug. “No, not really.” 

There’s a total of five seconds that pass before Hyunjin is stomping over and hauling Chan up out of his chair, pushing him towards the front door as he protests.

“Out! Out, out, out, we have important business matters to discuss.”

“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”

“We’re taking a rain check!” Hyunjin fights back, shoving him out of the shop before he has a chance to answer. He drops the shade to cover the glass, Chan’s sad figure left alone on the other side.

You gape at him. “What was that for?”

Hyunjin scoffs. “You think you’re convincing? Think again.” 

He hops up on to the counter and gestures for you to do the same. When you do, he pulls you closer, grabs your hand in his, and pushes your head down until it’s resting on his shoulder. 

“Tell me the truth now,” he says, soft. “I know there’s more to it.”

Hyunjin’s warm to the touch. The heat seeps through the fabric of his shirt, igniting the skin of your cheek until you feel like you’re standing too close to the sun. A star. Hyunjin is a light in your tunnel.

“I am curious,” you start, “About him, I mean. I’ve– I don’t know. It’s been so long. I tried to pretend I didn’t care when I saw him, but the minute I looked into his eyes it was like I was eighteen again. Eighteen and happy and looking at someone that I always thought would be there, you know?” 

Hyunjin hums but doesn’t say anything. He squeezes your hand once, a signal to keep going. 

“I’m scared, though. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”

Hyunjin takes a deep breath. “What are you scared of?”

Through the gaps in the beads you can see into your office, the picture of your Grandma hanging on the wall. She stares at you, unblinking. 

“What if he tells me that it’s true?” you ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “What if he says that I was right, that he didn’t care? That he left and didn’t want to call because it no longer mattered to him? That he loves his life there and only came back to clear his own conscience?” 

“Oh honey,” Hyunjin soothes, pulling you into his chest. You hadn’t realized you were crying, that the anger and fear had bubbled over until there were tears falling down your cheeks, wetting the fabric of Hyunjin’s sweater. 

He lets you cry for a while. It’s nothing new; Hyunjin has seen you break down countless times. He’s been there through the worst of it, held your hand even in the aftermath. He’s picked you up off the floor more times than you can count, has grounded you when you felt like the world was gonna open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Salt of the earth, returning you to its core.

Once you’ve quieted into nothing more than shallow breaths and a few scattered hiccups, Hyunjin speaks again.

“Can you be honest with me?”

You nod, the hair stuck to your cheek with tears rubbing against his shoulder. 

“Do you love him?”

It nearly knocks the wind out of you. This concept, so foreign to you now, shoved to the back of your mind to make room for the things that matter most. Hospital visits, labor cuts, wage increases— none of it left any room for love, let alone the thought of someone else. Especially someone as all-consuming as Jisung.

Slowly, you inhale, breath shaking on the exhale. Hyunjin squeezes your hand to remind you that he’s there.

“I don’t think I ever stopped, Hyune.”

The silence stretches thin. The realization is dizzying. Years of suppressed emotions, of telling yourself and everyone around you that it wasn’t a big deal. The sad eyes of the townspeople whenever they’d see you sitting beneath the apple tree. The gentle touch of your grandma’s hand when she’d find you on the front steps alone, staring at the stars. The soft hum of the radio in the shop, set to a playlist of all the songs he’s written, the only reminder that somewhere out there he was doing well.

The final crack in the dam, its water pushing until it gives way.

“Then you owe it to yourself,” Hyunjin says. “You owe it to your heart to get an answer. Free yourself from this pain, love. Don’t let yourself suffer forever.”

Forever. That word again. No matter how many times you’ve tried to escape it, it always comes back.

“It’s gonna hurt.” he sighs, tightening his grip when you sniffle. “It’s gonna hurt so fucking bad, babe. But you can take it. You’ve got people who love you enough to stand in front of you and soften the blow from time to time. But you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

He hops down from the counter and moves to stand in front of you, right between your legs. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he pushes until you’re sitting with your back straight and lifts your chin. 

“You deserve an answer.” he says, with conviction this time. “Okay?”

He lets his thumb swipe beneath your eyes, smiles softly. Unconditional— that’s what he is. Hyunjin burns brighter than any star in your sky, the heat wrapping its arms around you like it’s too scared to let go, to watch you freeze and die out like so many others. 

“I don’t deserve you, though.” you say, laughing wetly when he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug, “You deserve everything and more.”

When Jisung comes into the shop two days later, you’re ready for it. 

Chan had talked to him. No surprise, really, not when he’s been letting him crash in his spare room ever since he figured out that he was holed up in one of the hotels out in the tourism hub. 

If there’s one thing about Chan, it’s that he’d rip the shirt off his back to clothe anyone in need. Housing a friend is nothing, especially when that friend is Jisung.

“I don’t know how much of a consolation this is,” he’d said nervously, watching as you regarded him with an expectant look, “But he’s pretty cut up about you not wanting to see him. Which, I know, is stupid. He is the one who fucked up. But I just– I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this, I guess.”

It’s not a consolation, not really. Knowing that Jisung is struggling is far from anything you want to hear. 

Sure, there’s anger present. Anyone would be stupid to not feel the least bit frustrated with what’s happened. Years lost, time stripped away. But you’ve long since come to terms with it, the anger turning to sadness in the meantime.

“Also, he leaves tomorrow.” Chan smiled sadly. “He really wants to talk to you before then.”

Hyunjin left early again today to give the two of you space. Not before making a show of his own though, threatening to incite violence with his arms that are supposedly ‘shredded’ from years of lifting boxes filled with petunias. 

The shop is slow again, not many sales nor a lot of foot traffic. Usually when the sun is out there’s more to do; people to see, smiles to give. But there’s nothing, just the chirping of birds and the sound of cars rolling by. 

Maybe the world knows that this is what you need. The calm before the storm. 

Five minutes until close. You’ve spent most of the day pacing back and forth. Waiting. Anticipating. 

Chan had said Jisung planned on stopping by, trying again. You’d told him that was okay, and his eyes lit up. Too much hope, maybe, that something might come of this. 

You’re seated in the back office, staring at marigold colored irises when the front door opens. You hear it this time, ears fine tuned, waiting. 

Slowly, you stand, make your way to the front. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you pull back the beaded curtain and Jisung’s figure comes into view. 

He looks the same as he did the other day: curled hair, thick glasses, parted lips. His sweater, fluffy and striped, hangs off of his shoulders in a way that boxes off his tapered waist, one that you know is hidden beneath all the layers. The sleeves are way too long judging by the way it curls over his fingers. 

“Hi.” he breathes out, watching as you step into full view.

You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”

His name feels weird on your tongue. Bitter. It’s been years since you uttered it, forbidding yourself from the luxury out of fear that it would make his absence more real. Talking about him in the past tense always scared you off before you could even get the chance. 

“How– How’ve you been?” he chews on the inside of his lip.

You want to scold him, tell him to stop the habit just like you always would in the past. He’d make a joke then, tell you to kiss him so that he had something else to do instead. You would laugh, feign disgust, but in the back of your mind you’d wanted it more than anything. 

You’d waited for it, the day you could kiss him without warning and melt into his touch as he kissed you back. Another stupid bet on forever; the belief that you had all the time in the world for things to get to that point.

“I’ve been better.” you say, taking a deep breath. “What about you?”

Good, you think. He’s been good. He looks good. He doesn’t need this place.

“Me too.” he says instead. “I’ve been better.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Silence fills the room, heavy on both your chests. The anticipation feels like it might kill you before anything else does. 

“I’m sorry that–”

“Is that all you came here to say?” you cut him off.

“What?” he asks, confused. “No, I– no.”

“What, then? What is it you want to say, Jisung?” your voice is firm. He winces when his name leaves your mouth. “Because, honestly, I’ve waited all this time to hear literally anything from you, and if all that comes out of this is that you’ve ‘been better’ I might actually lose my fucking mind.”

The words tumble out faster than you intend. You can’t help it, not with the way anxiety has been bubbling over in your chest since the moment you woke up this morning. You could barely sleep last night, not when you were playing out every possible scenario in your head, the anticipation of it all making your sheets feel scratchy against your skin and the lumps in your pillow more discernible. 

“No, no, of course I wouldn’t do that.” he says quickly. “It's just that I didn’t know where to start. I don’t know how much you’ll allow me to say, what the boundary is here. I didn’t want to just barge in and demand you listen to me. You don’t owe me that. You don’t owe me anything. Not after what I did.”

What I did, his voice rings loud in your ears. He’s aware of it, of the pain he caused. 

He takes a step forward, and then another, again and again until he’s right up against the front counter, an arm’s length away. 

Your breath catches then, when you see him up close for the first time in four years, see the way he’s grown and changed with your own eyes. 

Stubble dotting his chin, laugh lines around his mouth, the dip and curve of the bow above his lips that you always loved. Brown eyes, soil and stardust. 

“Tell me what your conditions are,” he says quietly, “And I’ll give you every explanation I have.”

The sincerity on his face is blinding. Your stomach twists at the thought of hearing what he has to say, that same fear brewing in the pit of it. You take a deep breath, feel the phantom ghost of a hand squeezing yours and a crescent moon eye smile. 

“I waited four years for you.” you say.

“I know.”

“I trusted that you’d be back. That you would keep in touch during the time you were gone.”

“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”

“You lied to me.”

Jisung tips his head back then. Swallows down a lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly at the ceiling, veins of ivy crawling along the expanse of it.

“I know.”

“So you owe me everything. I deserve that. I deserve answers.”

When he brings his head down to look at you, it’s unreadable. A mix of emotions that you aren’t familiar enough with anymore to decipher. Fear, guilt, sorrow. Hope, too. Maybe.

You stare at him head on, fully letting your eyes meet for the first time in what feels like an eternity. He holds your gaze, unwavering. Determined. The sight makes your heart clench. 

“Okay,” he says after a beat of silence. “Okay. I can do that.”

Despite the ever-growing mountain of things to address, you decide that the first thing you want to hear from Jisung is about his time in Seoul. 

You’re only human, after all.

Best friends from the start– you can’t stop yourself from wondering what life has been like for him. Jisung’s always been good at storytelling, animated in his features and gestures to the point that you’d be rolling around and clutching your stomach from laughter. It’s one of the things you missed the most, just talking and being present in one another’s lives.

The two of you end up at one of the diners down the road. The owners, an elderly couple, coo as soon as they catch sight of you.

“My flower girl,” the old lady, Mrs. Kim, greets.

“Mrs. Kim,” you beam, moving in for a hug. When you pull away, Jisung is behind you, hands clasped behind his back and feet together like he has his tail between his legs.

“Halmeoni,” you say, gesturing at him, “Do you remember Jisungie?” 

His eyes go wide at the nickname, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, avoiding his gaze and instead watching as Mrs. Kim blinks in surprise.

“Oh! Oh my goodness, our Jisungie? Honey! Honey, look, Jisung is here! Oh you crazy boy,” she scolds, rushing forward to hit his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. “Where have you been? It’s been ages!” 

Jisung lets out an oof! as her body slams into him, all of his anxiousness dissolving into laughter as he hugs her back. 

“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?” 

“Me?” she asks, pulling him away to hold at arm’s length, “Nevermind about me! I’m old! How have you been?”

Good, you think again, a mimic of earlier. Jisungs eyes flit over to yours for the smallest of moments before he answers.

“Better,” he says. “I’m doing better.”

Once both Mr. and Mrs. Kim are done doting over the both of you, they seat you by the window.

The island is always beautiful on sunny days: trees swaying, golden rays painting the rooftops in hues of pink and orange, the indigo shimmer of the ocean off in the distance.

“So,” you say, catching Jisung’s attention, “Tell me about Seoul.”

He hums. “It’s busy. Stinks. Lots of people.”

“Dream come true, yeah?” you joke, taking a sip of your water.

Jisung chuckles. “You could say that, I guess.”

“I mean, it was yours.”

“It was.” he sighs, looking down at the table. “I don’t know. It’s nice. I met good people, made even better connections. I live in this one bedroom studio apartment just outside of Itaewon, so I’m close to where all the foreigners hang out. I’ve learned a lot, gained a lot of inspiration for my music.”

You follow along, staring at him intently. His mouth, still heart-shaped, twitches when he catches you in the act.

You clear your throat, glancing away. “Yeah, I’ve– uh, I’ve heard some of your songs.”

He raises his eyebrows, almost like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I hear them on the radio sometimes.” A lie. “It usually takes me a second to realize that it’s you.” Another lie. “But they’re good, you’re doing well.”

Pink dusts the tops of Jisung’s cheeks as he turns back to the window, clearing his throat.

He looks younger like this, like he’s still the same boy who would sit across from you all those years ago. Cherry-stained lips and a smile so bright it put the sun to shame.

He talks a bit more about his music, about how he’s with a good company that gives him creative freedom and enough support to pursue more if he desires.

His eyes light up when he tells you about his studio, a small room on the fifth floor of a building in the middle of the city where he does all of his writing. It’s equipped with an entire soundboard, full of instruments that he says he’s been able to get signed by artists that come in and out. Most notably, his guitar, the same one he left with. 

Slowly, like a flower blossoming, petals opening one by one, you feel yourself falling back into step with him.

Everything is so familiar: the curve of his smile, the tilt in his voice when he gets excited, the rumble of laughter when he recounts an embarrassing run-in with an A-list celebrity in the company’s cafeteria. He shares stories that fill your heart as the two of you fill your stomachs.

But with the ease comes something more, something you recognize as longing. You hadn’t realized how much you longed to be there through this part of his life, how you wished you’d been the one to answer a video call as he showed off his apartment the first day he moved in, his company badge when it was newly issued, every moment of happiness that you’d been absent for just as much as he was absent for yours.

He seems to share the same sentiment then, when he sets down his fork and stares at his empty plate. 

“You run the shop now,” he says, “How’s that been?”

You purse your lips, nodding your head slowly. You knew this conversation would happen, that it was coming.

“It’s good, I guess. Been almost a year now since, uh, it was left to me.” you shrug. “I’m not alone though, Hyunjin is a big help. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Jisung noticeably bristles. Eyebrows pulled together, staring more intently at a crumb on his plate. It looks like there’s a lot he wants to say, like he can’t find the words to say them.

So, naturally, you do it for him. 

“I assume Chan told you so I wouldn’t have to, by the way.”

He looks up then, as if he wasn’t expecting you to address the very obvious elephant in the room.

“He did, yes.” Jisung says after a while. His voice is quiet, gentle, like he’s walking on eggshells. “I– I didn’t know how to bring it up. I assume you’ve heard it all already but– I really, really am sorry to hear about Nana.”

The way her name sounds coming out of his mouth turns your mind to static.

Suddenly you’re in the hospital again, monitors beeping, hands as soft as petals cradled in your own and wishing that you could bury your face in a familiar neck as you cried and watched the marigolds wilt. 

“I don’t need an apology for that.” you croak, blinking back tears. Jisung is somewhere in your periphery, your vision blurry around the edges.

“It wasn’t sad. Her life, I mean. It was full. Of love. Of light. She left this place happy. That’s what she told me, at least.”

You take a deep breath. “So don’t be sorry about it.”

Jisung sniffles, and the sound shoots straight through your chest. 

“I know. I just– I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been. I had no idea that–”

“Nobody did, Jisung. Don’t punish yourself for that.”

He sees it then, when you finally meet his eyes, the acceptance. You’ve come to terms with things a long time ago, have fought tooth and nail to come out on the other side of all the guilt and resentment and grief alive. Scathed, but alive nonetheless.

“You’re right.” he sighs, wiping at his eyes quickly. “She’d probably yell at me for saying that.”

You laugh, suddenly, the noise startling him. Jisung looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I think she has a lot more to yell at you for than being sorry that she died.”

The bluntness punches a chuckle out of him, and you giggle at the thought.

Your grandmother was always such an outspoken person. She always said what was on her mind, speaking it loud. There’s no doubt that if she was here she’d be berating Jisung, smacking him upside the head before pulling him into a hug and cooking his favorite meal. Tough love, but still, love.

“She would’ve loved to be able to see you.” you say once your laughter dies out, the air a bit lighter between the two of you. “She always wondered if you’d grow your hair out without her around to nag you about keeping it short.” 

He reaches up to run a hand through his curls, the strands falling around his face in a way that has your heart stammering in your chest.

“Well, clearly I don’t know how to listen.”

“No, you don’t.”

Jisung smiles softly. “Maybe I’ll cut it now. You know, since I’m here. And because I know she’d want me to.”

You watch him carefully, searching his eyes. For what, you don’t know. All that’s in them are stars. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “You’re here.”

By the time the two of you leave the diner, stomachs full and enough bags of extra side dishes hanging off of your arms to last you at least two weeks, courtesy of Mrs. Kim, the sun is almost fully set. 

The ocean is calm, the evening breeze just barely brushing the surface of the tide. Jisung walks in step with you down the street, one side of his face cast in a glow from the sun’s fading rays. 

“Do you think you’d maybe want to stop by the arcade that Old Man Park runs? Just for a little?”

You snort. “Why? So I can embarrass you?”

“Hey!” he puts a hand on his chest, offended. “I’ll have you know that I let you win all those times.”

“How do you let someone win after spending hours practicing while I worked at the shop?”

“I was being nice!”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t believe me?” he grins. You try not to look, afraid of how bad your blood pressure might spike from the sight. 

“I’ll have you know that I’m one of the best Kart Rider players in the PC Bang scene back in Seoul.”

“Jisung,” you scold, “That’s a computer game. These are coin-ops. There’s way more skill needed.”

“No there isn’t!”

He knocks his shoulder against yours, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his smile when you try to fight back.

It’s easy. Nice. There’s a soft melody echoing in the dust-covered chambers of your heart. You still know all the chords.

Old Man Park’s arcade is a few doors down from the shop. You stop there to drop off the food, spare a glance in the mirror hanging in your office to fix your hair.

Your grandma’s picture stares at you from the other wall, eyes bright.

“Love you,” you say, kissing the skin of your fingertips and pressing it gently against the frame.

Jisung is toeing at a few rocks on the sidewalk when you walk back out. He doesn’t see you, too busy with his eyes casted down at the concrete, hands shoved into his pockets. 

It’s still hard to believe that he’s here. Flesh and bone. For a long time it felt like he was nothing but a distant dream, someone who only existed in the memories that you kept locked deep within your heart, the key somewhere on the streets of Seoul.

“Ready?” you ask.

He looks up, his glasses moving when his cheeks round into a smile.

Something passes across his face– a myriad of emotions in just a fraction of a second. Hesitantly, he holds out his hand. Long, delicate fingers.

You stare at it, swallowing roughly around the butterfly wings flapping inside your throat. 

The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.

Forever isn’t promised. But even then, there are things you know for sure:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is here. Living, breathing, in the flesh. 

So you take his hand, watch as relief floods his features, and let yourself feel.

The wind in your hair, the calluses on Jisung’s palms, and the warmth radiating out of the smile that threatens to split his face into two.

And with that certainty, the two of you start walking. A silent agreement to focus on the now.

You. Him. This.

“God, I can’t believe everything is only one coin.”

You laugh, watching as the multi-colored lights cast a glow on Jisung’s face. 

“Stop acting like you don’t remember this place.”

“I don’t!” he argues, smiling. “We stopped coming here, what, in middle school? Once Chan hyung started driving? We would always ask him to take us to the other one out in the big town!”

Chan’s first car was an old Camry with leather seats and enough room for the three of you to pile into after school. Used, but still with enough juice to satisfy three young kids who felt like they were on top of the world.

You used to sit in the back, the wind whipping your hair every which way while yours and Jisung’s hands lay side by side in the middle seat, pinkies brushing but neither of you willing to take it further. 

“Oh, shit!” Jisung gasps, letting go of your hand as he runs up to the space invaders machine. 

“Here we go,” you sigh, following after him. He’s like a kid in a candy store, face filled with innocent wonder and joy.

“Aren’t there, like, I don’t know– things better than this in Seoul?” you ask as he shoves a coin into the game.

Jisung turns to look at you with a devilish grin. “Obviously,” he says, “But I can’t beat anyone’s high score over there. Here though? Ha! This place is ancient. I can finally be at the top of the leaderboard in something.”

“We’ll see about that.” you mumble, the noise of the game booting up drowning you out. 

Jisung sticks his tongue out when he focuses really hard on things. It’s cute, the way the end of it sits between his lips, spit-slick and parted just a little bit.

He’s glowing, probably because of the lights, hues of red and green and blue flashing across his face. But then again, Jisung has always shined brighter than anything. 

The game beeps to signal that he has one life left. He grunts a few times, his fingers tapping the buttons madly as his other hand handles the joystick in a frenzy of movements.

When it ends, he groans, throws his hands up in defeat.. 

You shake your own head knowingly, watching his eyes bug out of their sockets as soon as the leaderboard appears on the screen, the 8-bit letters blinking at him. 

“You’re joking.” he laughs in disbelief, turning to stare at you. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

There, on the screen, is your name. The highest score. Jeongin and Hyunjin’s names sit just below you, respectively.

“What was that again about finally being able to be at the top?” you mock him, smirking.

“Since when did you get good at this?”

You shrug. “Had to find something to do in my free time.”

“No,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Nuh-uh. No way. This is not happening. I will beat you.” he holds out his hand for another coin, to which you roll your eyes and place one in his palm. 

“You might as well give up now. We’ll be here all night.”

“In your dreams.” he scoffs, assuming his position as another round loads onto the screen.  

Jisung has always been competitive. It’s one of his more hidden characteristics. 

It persists still, you realize, as you watch him burn through the styrofoam cup of coins that Old Man Park had given the two of you. Free of charge for old time’s sake.

Fort-five minutes. All he’s managed to do is bump Hyunjin down to fourth.

“Ugh!” he groans, kicking the machine lightly with his foot. 

“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum.” he pouts. You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.” 

“Thought so.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks. “This is, like, our first date. And I’m sucking. Hard.”

“Our–” you stop, eyes wide. Jisung mimics you, almost like he didn’t mean to say what he did. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Your mind goes blank. But the world doesn’t end. Time keeps moving. Jisung is still here.

“I didn’t–”

“I like the sound of that.” you say quickly. “Of this being our first date, I mean.’

He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.

“And the fact that you suck.”

The moment is shattered, his resulting whine echoing throughout the arcade.

“Come on you big baby,” you laugh, grabbing his hand. “I know a game you can beat me at.”

He lets himself be pulled, pretending that he’s upset, but you can see the smile tugging at his lips when you lace your fingers together.

The feeling is still new, this ease you have with him. The wounds you sported all those years are still healing, some more fresh than others. But with each laugh that comes out of Jisung’s mouth and shared glance, every note that your heart sings, you can feel them beginning to fade. A balm to soothe the burn.

The Pac-Man game is situated in the back corner of the arcade, right next to the jukebox. It used to be your favorite, because Jisung would always use his own coins to play songs for you while you tried to score higher than twenty-five thousand points. 

When you get there, he frowns. “The only game you think I can beat you at is Pac-Man?” 

“I don’t think,” you say, grabbing a coin before shoving the cup into his chest. “I know.”

The game boots up instantly, and you smile softly to yourself when Jisung moves wordlessly behind you, slips a coin into the jukebox.

“Play something good, Jisungie.”

He freezes. Out of the corner of your eye you watch him stare at you for a long moment. And then he smiles. Stardust.

“You got it.”

In a matter of seconds, Lovers In A Dangerous Time by Bruce Cockburn rings throughout the arcade, the speakers on the ceiling fighting past the static.

An old song. The same one your grandparents would dance to in the mornings, eggs on the stove and love in the air.

Your grandma used to say it was written for them, because when they fell in love the war was at its peak and she didn’t know if he’d ever come home. 

After he passed, she still played it, except those times it was Jisung who twirled her around and painted a smile on her face as you watched from the same spot you grew up in. Always there.

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung. 

When the game starts, you try your best. It’s hard. You’ve always been terrible at anything involving quick decisions. Focusing on everything at once isn’t easy for you, that much is still true. 

“Shit.” you mumble, the top right corner of the screen reading ten thousand points as the ghosts run into you.

Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

“You wanna go back to space invaders and waste the last of our money?” you raise an eyebrow. 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.” he says, holding the cup out for you to take another coin. 

You try a couple more times, failing each and every one. You can tell that Jisung is growing more and more amused with every attempt, and the smugness radiating off of him is starting to rub you the wrong way.

“If you’re so good,” you say after a particularly sad attempt, turning to glare at him. Jisung has his lips pulled tight to stop himself from laughing. “Then why don’t you try?”

He chuckles then. “I’d rather help you, if you’ll let me.”

“How are you supposed to do that? We only have one coin left.”

Jisung doesn’t say anything. He puts the cup down, the last coin held between his fingers. You watch as he slips it into the machine, move to get out of his way once he’s done, but he stops you by grabbing your hand and spinning you back around, his fingers placed over yours on the joystick. 

With your back flush against his front, caged in by his arms on either side, Jisung takes a deep breath.

“This okay?” he asks right next to your ear, the curls on the side of his head brushing your cheek when he leans down to get a better look at the screen.

Warm. He’s so warm. The material of his sweater only worsens the heat, and the faint scent of vanilla makes your head swim.

It’s more than okay. Great, even. It’s Jisung. Everything and more.

“Yeah,” you say, letting him control your hands as he flicks the joystick. “It’s okay.”

The hair against your cheek moves when he smiles. “Good.” he says, and then hits the start button.

The game begins but you’re barely processing what’s happening, too aware of the feeling of his body pressed against yours. 

A firm chest, different from what’s observable on the outside, what with the fluffiness of his sweater and soft features. His arms too, encasing you, the bulge and flex of his biceps every time he moves.

It’s all so intoxicating, so much so that you don’t even realize you’ve beaten the highest score in the system by the time he loses his last life. 

“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”

You laugh, spinning to face Jisung who’s grinning from ear to ear. In your excitement, you jump, flinging your arms around his neck. He’s surprised, but catches you nonetheless, circling his arms around your waist.

“Holy shit how’d you do that!” you squeal while he swings you around, feet off the ground.

“Magic, I guess.” he chuckles. 

The closeness of his voice brings you crashing back down, suddenly aware of what position you’re both in. You pull back quickly, clear your throat, and watch as his face falls from the loss of contact.

It’s been a long time since you hugged Jisung. The thought transports you to that day four years ago, standing under the apple tree, the future uncertain. Forever promised.

Things are different now.

“Sorry,” he backtracks. “I didn’t– um, I wasn’t trying to–”

You cut him off by throwing yourself at him for a second time. Intentional. Breathless. Tired of running and acting like it’s not the thing you want most in the entire world.

Jisung doesn’t react until he feels your face against the skin of his neck. On instinct, he hugs tight, hands around your waist, breathing in the smell of your hair.

“Hi.” you whisper against him. 

One word. Simple. However the weight of it sends a chill down his spine. It feels like home. 

He tightens his hold. A silent understanding. The two of you never had much of a need for words anyways. 

“Hi.” he whispers back.

The apple tree is much bigger now.

Long, thick branches, a wide trunk, a slight tilt in its shape.

It’s bare. The season is long gone. But it’s okay, because it means that the view of the stars isn’t blocked when you and Jisung lay beneath it.

It’s the same but it isn’t. There’s gaps– periods of time where the two of you grew separately. There are moments and memories tucked away that neither of you know about, whole lives to discover. 

But even so, it feels right. His arm wrapped around you, your head on his chest. The stars and the moon. You and Jisung.

It’s nice. Perfect, even. But there’s a conversation that needs to be had. One that can’t be put off any longer.

“Ji.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Jisung shifts beneath you, tightening his hold. The grass is damp. Neither of you care, too caught up in each other to stress about whether or not it’ll stain.

“Of course.”

“Am I ever gonna see you again?”

He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“You said that last time.”

“I know.”

“So what makes this different?” you ask, sitting up. He watches you carefully, eyes trained on every movement like he’s scared you’ll get up and run away.

When he realizes you’re waiting for an answer, he sits up too, pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. 

He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly reaches into his pocket. Silently, he hands whatever he grabbed to you. A guitar pick.

It’s white, a marbled design. Golden flecks infused into the lines. There, on the front, is a singular marigold. When you flip it over, you’re met with a tulip. 

“Do you remember that one time, when you called me crying at midnight because Nana told you that she didn’t know if she’d be able to afford school in the city?”

You nod silently, still turning the guitar pick over in your hand. 

It was one of those nights where the rain was relentless. Monsoon season always tagged on to the tail end of the school year, bringing with it a more intense gloominess than usual. 

You’d been angry. Stressed. Irritated that other kids at school were making plans to go to the mainland for college and you were stuck helping your grandmother trim foliage and wrap vases in newspaper.

“You told me that you couldn’t do it anymore.” Jisung whispered, staring up at the sky. “That you were tired of being here. That you needed to get out.”

You remember. Jisung had walked through the rain to show up at your window. Had climbed in with muddy shoes and sat on the floor of your room with you until the downpour stopped and your tears dried.

“And I said that I would make it happen, that I would invent a way to live amongst the stars so you could be as far from here as possible.”

“So what?” you ask, looking at him. “Did you finally do it, then? Is that why you came back?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“No, Jisung, I’m gonna fucking be like that.” you scoff, rising to your feet. 

There’s a fire in your veins, stoked until the embers are burning hot against your throat. Too good to be true. You should’ve known that there was no explanation left for him to give.

Jisung scrambles to his feet. “It wasn’t like I wanted to–”

“Oh like hell you did.” you say, turning to face him. “Four years, Jisung. I waited four years and you just– you come back and decide to tell me about some make-believe bullshit to save yourself and feel less guilty about the fact that you left.”

“It wasn’t make-believe to me,” he argues. “It was real. Everything I said was real. I left and I tried for years to make something of myself so I could come back here and get you.”

“Oh so it’s my fault? I made you leave, is that it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“So then say something else!” you yell. The stars rumble, threatening to fall out of the sky. “Say something else, then, Jisung. Why didn’t you call? Huh?”

“Because I–” he stops, licks his lips. “God. Fuck. I couldn’t face you if I had nothing to show for myself, okay? It wasn’t fair to you for me to leave you behind just so I could fail.”

“Ha!” you laugh, running a hand through your hair in disbelief. “So you decided to go radio silent instead? Decided to not only leave me alone but let me suffer and wonder about where you were because that’s so much better than telling me that you were struggling, right? Great choice, Jisung. Really.”

He blinks a few times, watching as you pace back and forth in the grass. 

Anger bubbles deep in your gut. This whole time, he knew. It was a conscious decision. Jisung deliberately didn’t contact you because he chose not to.

“Did you ever even love me?”

The words tumble out before you can stop them. Jisung’s entire body goes rigid, his face falling and eyes hardening within a fraction of a second.

“Watch what you say.” he says, his voice low in his chest.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just be honest.”

“I’m trying.” he pleads. His eyes are glossy. Big and round behind his glasses. Illuminated by the moon. 

“I fucked up, okay? I prioritized myself and the way I felt over you and fucked everything up. But I tried. I tried so fucking hard. And I’m sorry it took me so long but I wanted– no–  I needed to make sure that I had everything figured out before I came back. I promised I would.”

“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”

“I’m not talking about you.” he says then, taking a deep breath. “You weren’t the only one I made promises to back then.”

Before you have a chance to speak, Jisung says, “I promised her. I told her I’d get you out of here. That I’d give you a life that you deserved, because she knew she couldn’t.”

You drop to your knees when the first sob hits, the force of it racking your body so hard you feel like you’re drowning. Jisung catches you on the fall, holds you up, lets you bury your face into his neck like he had so many times before.

“She told me you believed in forever. She wanted me to give that to you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Jisung lets you cry. He holds you through the storm, your wails as loud as thunder and tears as heavy as rain. Four years in the making; the sky and the earth colliding until the dirt and layers of sediment give way to the molten core that’s been hiding beneath the surface all along.

Pain. Grief. All of it pent up and leading to this moment. 

“You should’ve told me.” you cry, beating a fist into Jisung’s chest. “You idiot. You fucking idiot. You should’ve told me.” 

Jisung pulls you in closer, takes each hit as long as it means that it’ll soften the blow on your heart. He whispers apologies in your ear, runs a hand through your hair. 

When it quiets again, the worst of the storm gone, he shifts so that your head is in his lap, his legs crossed and tucked beneath him. A few stray tears wet the fabric of his jeans, your eyes focused on the field of flowers across the street.

“I won’t ask you to come with me.” he says after a long while, when your breathing has evened out. “I know that things are different. You have a life here that you’ve made for yourself, responsibilities to bear as well.”

He pauses to push a few strands of hair out of your face. His fingers are gentle against the skin of your cheek.

“But I promise it’ll be different. I spent too long away from you, was too selfish for my own good. I won’t disappear again. I’ll call every day. I’ll visit. You’ll get every part of me that I kept away from you all this time, and I’ll get every part of you in return.”

Your heart thrums. The thought of having what you’ve wanted for so long. Of having Jisung.

“And when you’re ready, when you feel like you can’t do it anymore, there’ll be a place for you.”

His voice is firm. Confident. More sure than he’s ever sounded before in his life.

When you turn to face him, he’s already staring back. Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the offer to make it yours.

Under the apple tree, Jisung leans down and kisses you for the first time. Twenty four years in the making, soft and slow, his lips a perfect fit against yours. A starboy and his flower girl. His glow is so bright it makes blossoms sprout from her fingertips.

Soft curls tickle your eyelids when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. You reach up to run a hand through them, smiling softly when he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“I love you.” you say first this time. 

He reaches out a hand, closes it over your fist that’s still clutching the guitar pick. A marigold and a tulip, both working together to make a perfect harmony. 

“I love you, too.” Jisung whispers back. “Forever.”

Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.

There’s less tears this time, less of a reason to be sad. But still, when he wraps his arms around you, vanilla filling your nose and curls against your face, you feel your composure crumble.

“Every day.” he says, repeating the same thing he did all night. “I promise. Morning and night. Also at lunch. Oh, and on your days off. Matter of fact, you can call when you’re on the toilet too.”

The last part earns him an elbow to the ribs, his laughter bubbling up and out of his throat as he tries to dodge any and all subsequent attacks.

He kisses you stupid before he goes, Chan rolling his eyes from his car out front. You flip him off blindly, Jisung’s lips still attached to yours, earning a loud honk in response.

When he leaves, the shop is quiet, the only sound being the buzzing of your phone as Jisung blows it up with text messages the second the car pulls away.

You’re too busy replying, giggling to yourself when a slew of cute emoticons start appearing one by one, that you nearly fall over out of your chair when Hyunjin bursts through the door.

“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, breathless. 

“Uh,” you blink, glancing round. “Working?”

“Is Jisung not on a damn plane right now?”

“I mean he’s on his way to the airport. Chan is–”

“Chan hyung told me that Jisung wanted you to go with him.” Hyunjin says, brow furrowed.

You sigh. “He didn’t want me to go with him. Well, okay, he did. But I told him I can’t just pick up and leave. He knows that. Nana left this place to me and–”

“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs. 

“Excuse me?” you ask. You stand up, crossing your arms as you walk closer to the counter. 

“Come on. We have to go.”

“Go where, Hyunjin? I’m not leaving to–”

He cuts you off, places an envelope on the wooden surface. “And I am not letting you stay here and pretend that this is what you want.”

“What is that?” 

“A plane ticket.” he says, pushing it towards you. “To Seoul.”

Your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. Hyunjin is already moving around the counter, pushing past you with an expression the most serious you’ve ever seen on him.

“Hyunjin I– I can’t– where did you even…?”

“Chan hyung has a friend.” he mumbles as he begins pulling stuff out of the office. Your planning notebook, your apron, the picture of your grandma off the wall. All of it thrown into a small box he managed to snag from somewhere off to the side.

“His name is Seungmin or something. Met him out in the tourist hub. Dude’s super rich with tons of miles and apparently owed Chan for a drunken night where he needed to be escorted to his hotel. So thanks to him, you’re leaving.” he explains as he grabs the box with both hands and starts walking towards the door.

“Wait.” you stop him, watching as he turns to regard you with a look that says his patience is running thin. 

“I told you I can’t leave, Hyunjin. This place is where I need to be.”

He huffs, places the box on the ground in front of him. His hair falls in waves around his face, a shimmery dark brown beneath the rays of the sun poking into the room. 

“Can you be honest with me?” he asks. 

You nod, slowly. 

“Do you love him?”

Hyunjin watches you with careful eyes. Reads you like a book, something he’s always been good at. You don’t doubt that it’s written on your face. Star-kissed cheeks and eyes as bright as marigolds. 

“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”

Hyunjin smiles, eyes watery. “Then you deserve to go. You deserve your chance to be free. Don’t worry about this place, I’ll take care of it.”

The familiar sting of tears sits behind your eyes. Your heart swells full of love for this friend, this light, this beacon of unconditional love in the shape of your best friend.

“I don’t have clothes.” you manage to say around the lump in your throat.

Hyunjin shakes his head, tears spilling down the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll send them to you.”

“There’s a lot to do around here for just one person. What if you need me?”

“I’ll manage.” 

You round the corner quickly, throwing yourself into his chest. He catches you with ease, wraps his arms around your body as the both of you cry into each other.

“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.

Hyunjin’s throat bobs against the top of your head. “I’ll always be here in our little corner of the world.”

The two of you stay like that for a while. Hyunjin’s warmth seeps into your skin, lights you ablaze. By the time he pulls away, his hands on your shoulders, you feel like you’re floating. Unreal.

“I don’t have a way to get there.” you say quickly, glancing at the clock. 

Jisung’s plane leaves soon. The airport, the only one on the island, is a thirty minute drive. You’re at a disadvantage the more time you spend not moving. 

“Don’t worry,” Hyunjin chuckles. “I’ve got that taken care of.”

You open your mouth to ask him what he means when you’re cut off by the sound of honking from outside. Confused, you run to the door, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize who’s waiting for you.

“Hurry up people we don’t have all day!” Jeongin calls, his upper body hanging out of the window. He’s parked outside in a beat-up truck, arms waving wildly when he spots you.

“Innie!” you scream, pushing through the door to run at him. He jumps out of the truck just in time for you to barrel into his chest, laughter loud in your ears as he spins you around. 

“You’re here! Oh my god I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.” you say in disbelief once he puts you down.

He looks older, more sophisticated. His hair is rusted and falls past his ears, the ends just barely touching his shoulders. 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I figured I’d show up earlier. You know, see you before you leave, catch up with my parents, help Hyunjin break into your house. The usual.”

“Help Hyunjin break into my what–” you say, but you stop when your eyes fall on the small suitcase in the backseat. Your own bag, the one that’s been sitting in your closet untouched for years now.

“For the last time,” Hyunjin says from behind you, carrying the box in his arms. “It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key. Which, by the way, I told you would come in handy one day.”

He sets the box down next to the luggage and dusts his hands on his pants. When he turns to face you, he’s smiling, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.

With tears threatening to spill once again, you stare at the both of them, your heart bursting at the seams. “I love you guys.”

Jeongin grimaces, opts for getting back in the driver’s seat as you laugh. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and ushers you inside of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” he says. “Right now, you have a plane to catch.”

The airport is crowded. 

There are tons of people everywhere, some saying hello and some saying goodbye. Hyunjin explained the gate system to you before you left him and Jeongin on the curb, and you keep glancing down at your ticket to make sure none of the information has changed in the past thirty seconds since you last looked. 

Thankfully, your gate isn’t far. With twenty minutes to go until boarding, you can feel the sweat building up beneath the hand that’s curled around your suitcase handle. 

It’s scary thinking about the fact that this is it. That you’re finally leaving. 

It’s bittersweet, too. There’s an excitement in the pit of your stomach as well as a feeling of dread in your chest, both of them meeting in the middle somewhere. 

You let your eyes scan the crowd, searching for wavy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. However, the first thing you see is the familiar neck of a guitar, strapped right on to a back that you would know and recognize anywhere without warning.

Jisung is seated near the gate, his eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a pout as he glares down at his phone. You realize that he’s probably wondering why you won’t answer, why all of his emoticons are going ignored. 

Quietly, you come up behind him, reach into your pocket, and say, “Excuse me? I think you dropped this.”

Jisung startles, his eyes falling on to the guitar pick being held out in your hand. Slowly, he lets his gaze follow upwards, wide-eyed and shocked.

“What– what are you doing here?” he asks. 

You place the pick in his hand. “I'm on my way to Seoul. There’s a guy there that I’ve been trying to find for a while.” you say. 

Jisung catches on quickly. “Oh, really?” he asks, moving over so you can sit beside him. “This guy must be pretty great if you’re leaving for the mainland.”

The rain starts hitting the tarmac outside right as you sit down. “Hm, yeah. He is. He really likes the stars. He says that he found a way for me to live in them, too.” 

He laughs, the sound making your stomach flip. “Sounds like you’re excited.”

You nod. “I am. He promised me that we’d do a lot together, experience new things. Apparently he’s gonna write songs and I’m gonna be a nerd.”

Jisung snorts and reaches across to link his hand with yours.

“He’s really lucky.” he says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips.

You smile into it. “So am I.” you whisper into his mouth, your heart stuffed to the brim with flower petals. 

And when Jisung smiles back, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek and give you another kiss with the force of a thousand suns, you feel the key you’d been searching for finally click into place. 

Salt of the earth. Soil and stardust. A boy who glows so bright that his girl sprouts blossoms from her fingertips. 

Forever isn’t promised. But then again, with Jisung by your side, there are things you know for certain:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. In Jeju– it rains.

And no matter what, despite all odds, you and Jisung will always find your way back to each other in the place where marigolds grow.

[tags: @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @drhsthl @strwbrrychannie @shays-library @giuliadesu @iknowyouknowminho @linocz @pynchkilledme @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @chans1aptop @liknws @realrintaro @beeracha @vxllxnsworld @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]

#skzstarnet #han x reader #jisung x reader #han jisung x reader #han angst #jisung angst #han jisung angst #han fluff #han jisung fluff #jisung fluff #han au #han jisung au #jisung au #han imagines #han jisung imagines #jisung imagines #han scenarios #han jisung scenarios #jisung scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #skz au #skz imagines #skz scenarios #han #han jisung #jisung #han fanfic #han jisung fanfic #han fanfiction

[mcalastor]

Ooc:

hello everyone, but this is an important post. Please read it if you have the time.

My name is Shello, the mod of this blog.

@/soberhusker has been making racist jokes towards me, and excusing themselves with "sleep deprivation", not even bothering to apologize.

As some people may know, I am chinese. Fully chinese, and they knew this, still decided to make racist jokes against me.

Despite all this, there are some matters I'd like to discuss.

It was starting from a discord server, roleplaying suggestive things in a public server where all members are able to see the messages.

1. They was being inappropriate with in a server full of young minors.

More so, if you remembered the mean anon that said "sober husk barely has any followers", etc etc.. I suspect that is they are the person that made that ask. Easy reason: they immediately noticed when the ask was answered, despite not being mentioned. Reblogged it, etc. I could very very easily tell it was them, by their spelling, grammar and everything.

2. They attacked me for fame.

Speaking of fame, that is all he cares about. In the vcs, all he talks about is fame.

Something along the lines of:

"Why the fuck do I only have 10 notifications from tumblr?"

"I only have 77 followers."

etc.

Theyve been asking the members to interact with their blog. As you can see, I promoted said blog many times. Guess that isnt enough for him.

3. He only cares about fame.

Anyways, here are proof of the racism allegations

Many more were said in VC.

Heres his response. Which was absolute shit. I feel fucking offended.

With the screenshots by MJ. (ilysm bestie/p)

oh, and did I mention? They put my trauma in a notes channel, publicly, for all members to see. To "help me".

I feel genuinely hurt by their actions

now, please dont go attack them. I dont want that.

I want you to not interact with them. I dont feel comfortable around them, nor do I feel comfortable with the people I rp with around someone who has been racist towards me.

just please spread this as awareness. And dont attack them, like I said. Thats stupid.

love you all

-mod shello

#alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin roleplay #notmcalastor #SOBER HUSK DRAMA

[icyg4l]

PAC: May 2024 Predictions

Hello beautiful people! Later on this week, I will have a Five Dollar Friday Sale where any topic can be talked about. Please refer to my guidelines if you are interested in booking with me! Today, I will be giving you all some predictions about the upcoming month. I hope that those who resonate will continue to support me. For those of you who have been supporting me, I thank you. Without further ado, please select the quote that resonates with you.

Left-to-Right: (1-3)

Pile One: I am getting Taurus energy from this pile. I feel like you are going to be walking away from a situation that no longer serves you in May. It's going to hurt. But on the bright side, at least you are done with that chapter in your life. I feel like you are inviting new energy into your life though. It feels lively. I think that you need to be careful though if you go out to a hookah bar, or just go out into the nightlife in general. I am seeing that you will be going to a cookout. I am seeing the image of a thermometer's heat rising. I feel like you may have tension with someone that's super thick, lol. All in all, I feel that this month for you will determine the theme of this summer for you all. You got your wings, you've been promoted! It may be hard to focus on the positives because of your circumstances but you will survive. This month will feel weird because it’s like your on two ends of the spectrum. One part is good and the other is gone to shit, but all will work in your favor boo! See the good in life.

Cards Used: Page of Cups, Queen of Discs, Ace of Cups, 5 of Discs, The World, 10 of Swords, Justice.

extras: arrogance. cheap labor. pennyslvania. slabs. coney island. sweet! livelihood. perfume. body shapewear. antisocial club.

Pile Two: Idk why but your energy reminds me of Natalie Nunn lol. Not the messy parts but the part about her where she's unintentionally funny and fun to be around. Your energy feels very much party girl, I could easily get in this section if I wanted to type of vibe. Anyway, I think that you are going to be strengthening some platonic connections that you already have. But I also think that you're going to cut someone loose --- someone who has been around for a while. The name Harold comes to mind. Have you eaten Harold's Chicken as of recently, lol? I think that you're going to have sharper instincts as a result. You're going to see people for who they are. I am seeing the image of a butterfly flying on someone's nose. You will be growing up in the month of May. There is an emphasis on meditation. You're being called to devoting your time to staying in the present. You're being asked to go within and get more introspective. Also, cut back on the refined sugars. I think you'll be listening to Amaraae and Solange more often this month as well.

Cards Used: King of Cups, 3 of Cups, Strength, Death, King of Swords, The Hermit, Prince of Discs, 2 of Swords, The Lovers.

extras: big eyes. blonde hair. shapely. wiz khalifa. stunna shades. "i ain't going nowhere." "get comfy." gloomy. rainbow tips.

Pile Three: Someone in this pile is going to be reuniting with their family at a prom sendoff, at a graduation, a party. Either way, it will be a celebration. This pile will also be very grateful in the month of May. You are also going to have many opportunities to make quick money with the people that you love (not necessarily family but anyone that makes you feel safe). A love opportunity will be coming through for you as well. I don't see this as something you should take serious. I think you want to be independent right now, that person understands and they will give you your space for the time being. If you're trying to curate an event, don't worry too much about what people will think because it's going to be a big turnout regardless. I think some of you will be going to a wedding or will be getting married. So, congratulations to that! I also think that some of you will be meeting your future spouses in this pile (you won't know it yet though). Overall, I feel that this month is a great month for you to focus on community building.

Cards Used: The Emperor, The Hierophant, 9 of Swords, King of Wands, Justice, 3 of Discs, 8 of Wands, 4 of Wands, Ace of Cups.

extras: entrepreneurial spirit. aquamarine. blue butterflies. single father. "something cute, something for the summertime."

#occult #hoodoo #tarotreading #tarot #astro notes #pick a pile #divination #metaphysical #pick a card #pick a reading #divination readings #channeled message #tarot reader #dailytarot #witchblr #witch community #oracle deck #tarot deck #free tarot #spirituality #spiritual #intuitive readings #tarotblr #paid readings #tarot reading #manifesting #law of assumption #neville goddard #daily tarot #tarot cards

[lillybearrie]

Hello I would like to remind everyone that the first (technically second if you wanna get really technical but who cares) thing we heard from fable was

"Release Me,

You are free of Enderian, now focus on purpose"

Directed at Icarus

"Now focus on your purpose"????? WHAT HAPPENED TO "HI" "HELLO" "HOW ARE YOU MY SON"

BECAUSE NEWSFLASH SIR THAT'S NOT HOW YOU TALK TO YOUR FUCKING CHILD

THEY AREN'T A FUCKING ROBOT TO TAKE AND CARRY OUT YOUR ORDERS THAT'S YOUR GODDAMN KID!

PEOPLE TREATED SEVEN WITH MORE FAMIARITY AND RESPECT

no offense to seven great guy rip man BUT STILL

Anyway on to actual analysis

After reading this note, several deductions can be made about our antagonist's character right off the bat, which in season 3 we see to be accurate assumptions

First of all the sending of the note "release me" constantly at the beginning of every reset presumably for the past several ones gives us a base line of a few things A) whoever wrote it is trapped B) they really want out C) whomever was to recive the note presumably can help with this D) this person is either very angry and resorting to formal wording as a form of passive aggression or they are simply a very formal person Had this not been the case they would have written "let me out" or "get me out" or even "help me"

Now for the post-corruption portion

"You are free of Enderian"

1) this person knows Enderian 2) This person knows at least of Icarus 3) They intentionally have been sending these to Icarus 4) despite being trapped they have some way to know what is going on 5) their particular view of Enderian is not favorable it's not overtly antagonistic however this is the one part of the not that can be read as at least partially sympathetic to Icarus

Finally "Now focus on your purpose"

1) they don't see Icarus as anything but a means to an end 2) tone wise it feels like both the chastisement of a child and an order to an unthinking being 3) "your purpose" seemingly refers to the prior statement of "release me" either implying that the writer believes Icarus is only here to get them out of wherever they are or that Icarus's sole purpose in life is to aid and assist them and 4) the use of "now" after the previous statement implies they view the corruption arc as simply something that was inhibiting the progression of them being let out

First off once again SIR THAT IS YOUR CHILD YOU MOTHERFUCKER-

In conclusion deductions that can be made from this note with the knowledge that i now hold are as follows: Fable wanted out of purgatory, they issued Icarus with the fulfillment of this task and saw the corruption arc as merely a speed bump on the road of getting his ass outta there. Fable is a pretentious douchebag. Like everyone else in his life Fable is constantly using his own son as a means to achieving his end goal.

Other notes:

Had Fable's motivations not been his underlying obsession with keeping what he believes is "his" even when it disrupts and disregards the rules of the universe and the sanctity of life he likely wouldn't have given 2 shits about Icarus.

If we view Fable's interactions with others through the lense of him thinking of those of the overworld as "his" his people his creations his world then it starts to become clearer that he only sees individuals as tools and for their potential usefulness to him. And if we want to take this view even further we could even say that he at least on some level viewed Alerion giving a place for his deceased mortals to restate something akin to how a child views their sibling stealing a toy from their room, which then implies that the war of the gods is just a big temper tantrum where Fable hurt his brother then his other siblings stepped in and went "hey woah man not cool you can hit Al dude he is literally just playing the game" to which Fable's response was to hurt them as well and now he's just got out of timeout and basically started blaming his parents for everything wrong in his life which is so silly goofy of him until you remember that these were people he was upset about his brother "stealing" from him and it becomes less silly goofy.

"But Lilly!" I hear you say because you've totally read this far, mhm definitely "If he doesn't actually care about the dead people, then why does he act nice? Why is his charisma stat so high?" Well to that I say is it easier to keep someone in one spot when you make them believe this is where they wanna be or when they know the whole truth?

#someone take my Tumblr privileges #why is this so fucking long #and how have i not made this post before?? #once again #thank you for coming to my ted talk #fable when i get you fable #i have hated this man since before we knew for sure that he sent that note because deep down i knew and i wasn't gonna let that slide #Icarus deserves better #so much better #also apologies for how discombobulated this might be i had like 4 separate trains of thought while writing this #so idk how coherent it is #fable smp

[silverflqmes]

I was curious about a HC for Sephiroth with a quiet S/O that loves to sing when they’re alone?

໒⦂ 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐎𝐔𝐒.

notes. hello anon! i’m not sure if you just wanted one hc so i added a good amount to suffice enough for a post, hope you enjoy and that they are to your likings<3

genre. fluff + comfort

sephiroth x gn!reader.

⌗ sephiroth has known you to be a rather soft spoken individually, often reserved amongst others — though he didn’t particularly mind it. he had similar habits, anyway — if anything it made him feel less alone..

⌗ with him, however, you were thankfully a bit more talkative — as was he, with you. it just felt more comfortable for you both to fully express yourselves, especially your lover.

⌗ but something told your beloved that you were keeping some quirks secret.. certain little things — habits of yours.

⌗ particularly the melodic voice that greeted his ears one chilly evening when he’d arrived home from a dragged out meeting.

⌗ you had been so engrossed in whatever you were busy with, that you hadn’t even heard your boyfriend come in. normally you greeted him at the door if you were home- a cute little routine of yours and sephiroth’s — which made it all the more strange that you hadn’t done so.

⌗ given the late hours, part of him would have assumed you to have fallen asleep as a reason for not expressing your usual ‘welcome home, sephiroth!’ but would you have left the record player on..?

⌗ sephiroth tried not to question it and just assumed you wanted noise with whatever you had been occupying yourself.

⌗ only.. the record player was not in use. interesting.

⌗ with his enhanced hearing, the silver haired first decided to give into his curiosity, leaning against the cool wall as he listened in on that mellifluous tune.. and that was where he reached his conclusion.

⌗ the person singing was you!

⌗ for a moment sephiroth flushed and recoiled, thinking that perhaps he had intruded on your privacy somehow — which brought a slight feeling of guilt.

⌗ he hadn’t heard you sing before. maybe a soft humming while you were busy with your paperwork.. but not full on singing. were you not comfortable doing so in front of him? a mild case of stage fright, perhaps..

⌗ even still, he couldn’t help but feel lulled by your voice — at ease.

⌗ so much, that shinra’s famed hero hadn’t even noticed his body sliding down the solid surface, feline-like eyes fluttering shut.. until his rear made contact with the hardwood floor.

⌗ naturally, sephiroth.. given his height and muscle mass — would make a bit of a thud. guys look at that cushy tushy, come on which might have been ignored by him, since his focus was on your voice, but the sound had very much found your ears.

⌗ the song you’d chosen to sing came to an abrupt pause, concern overcoming you as you beelined out of your shared bedroom with a loud gasp.

⌗ “s-sephiroth..?!”

⌗ but your beloved was.. pretty much fast asleep, a serene smile on his lips with strands of silver framing his relaxed countenance.

⌗ now how could you possibly wake him up? he was likely exhausted from his work, the war in wutai — everything that came to mind regarding shinra.

⌗ a sigh left your lips as you tucked a lock of hair behind his ear before crouching to wrap his arm around your neck. no way would you allow him to sleep through the night like that. especially with his restless sleep schedule.

⌗ and so, you poured every ounce of your strength into your legs, lifting the two of you up with a slight wheeze. sephiroth wasn’t light by any means, but you wanted him to sleep comfortably — which in turn, kept you going with your ambitious, and quite possibly foolish, endeavors..

⌗ a few steps was all it took before you were easing him onto his side of the bed, prying off his boots and pauldrons so that he could relax better. there wasn’t any danger in your shared flat, so he could do without them for the rest of the evening. you’d protect him, anyway.

⌗ crawling into the space beside him, you then curled into his side, fluttering your eyes shut as you allowed sleep to envelope you, just as it had your lover.

⌗ when dawn broke and bled through the curtains, sephiroth stirred a little before opening his eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust to his surroundings — specifically you, cuddling into his chest.

⌗ had he fallen asleep so suddenly that you had to carry him into bed all on your own?

⌗ you murmured something incoherent, likely from a dream, as he smiled tenderly, pushing aside the thought to slide a gloved hand into your hair, petting you gently.

⌗ perhaps he wouldn’t move just yet to prepare breakfast.. and instead, enjoy your warmth for a little while longer.

⌗ however, he would have comments upon your wake, wanting to know why you’d hidden such a lovely voice from him all this time.

⌗ but, for now, it would just be him, his fluffy bedding, the morning rays, and yourself.

⌗ gingerly, the first class SOLDIER leaned in to press a tiny kiss to your temple, whispering a soft, “sleep well, my love.”

notes. i may have indulged a little here, but it’s sephiroth aiakwhdjsjs sleeping with him sounds so nice rn😵‍💫 ahem- hope it was good tho, anon!

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

#— ; 🏹 ) final fantasy vii fics. #ffvii sephiroth #sephiroth ff7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #final fantasy sephiroth #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth x y/n #sephiroth headcanons #sephiroth x reader #sephiroth x you #ffvii x reader #ff7 x reader #ffvii crisis core #crisis core #sephiroth crescent #final fantasy 7 x reader #final fantasy vii x reader #sephiroth imagine #sephiroth ffvii #sephiroth x gn!reader #sephiroth fluff #final fantasy vii crisis core #crisis core reunion #one winged angel

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

*creeps in* *looks around furtively* *relaxes* HELLO MAGGOTS I HAVE NOT BEEN HERE FOR A WHILE BECAUSE OF THE HORRORS™ BUT LIKE THE ANTICHRIST SAID WE STAY DELULU AND MANIFEST OR SOMETHING. LIFE IS KINDA UP IN FLAMES BUT ALSO THERE ARE GOOD THINGS AND I TURN TWENTY IN FOUR DAYS (MAY 7) WHICH IS WILD. ANYWAY WE PERSERVE AND I HAVE YOU ALL <3.

HERE, IN HONOUR OF @howmanyholesinswisscheese AND HIS GRANDMOTHER'S BOYFRIEND BRIAN (THE REAL MVP OF EVERYTHING EVER) HAVE AN AUSTRALIAN MEME COURTESY OF ME AND @1800ineedshelp.

YOU'RE WELCOME. THROW THIS ON PEOPLE'S DASHES SO THEY CAN EXPERIENCE THE ARTISTRY. THIS KANGAROO HAS HAUNTED ME SINCE THE PANDEMIC.

OKAY I LOVE YOU I SHALL SCOOT BEFORE THE HORRORS™ CREEP IN OR WHATEVER BYEBYE~

#good omens mascot #australian memes #australian fandom #weirdly specific but ok #good omens #good omens adam #asmi #maggots #australia

[darkmagic-sweetheart]

Hello everybody, my name is CHICA!!!! XD

Anyway, my Blind Date w/Markiplier charms are back up for pre-orders and now you can buy them individually as well (besides Chica)!

I am working on new designs that will be added to this pre-order. I'm hoping to add in at least 3 new drawings, but if time allows I do have up to another 7 in total! This includes a brand new mystery charm that is only available in the blind bag!

I hope you all look forward to those! I'll be posting the WIPs of them soon as a preview and then the finals when they are ready :3

#markiplier #cute #chibi #etsy #warfstache #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #iswm #ahwm #adwm #wkm #markiplier fanart #charms #keychains #blind bag #mystery bag #ahwm yancy #yancy #googleplier #dr iplier #markiplier egos #noir iswm

[kerubimcrepin]

Live-Read: The Remington Comic [PART 2]

TOME 11

We go, we steal, we leave… I don't want any trouble, Remington, got it? Wohaa, as if… I'm telling you, we steal Beating Heart and that's it.

The way Luis is drawn in this comic is so cute, sorry...

Very intrigued by the books standing on top of a flowerpot standing on top of a stool, the random kettle on the floor, a blanket half-covering an unidentified fucking object, more books, and what seems to be a bell, or a bottle, standing on the floor.

Kerubim and Atcham seem to have been away for A While. And Joris doesn't like to clean.

Make less noise when you walk. If we wake the guy up, meow to make him think a cat got into the home. Uh uh.

This idea is so stupid for so many reasons, both ones Remington and Grany should know, and ones known only to us... It's kind of admirable.

Also I still can't get over how fucking messy Joris is. Either it's his depression, his ADHD, or Kerubim's Upbringing that made him that way. Man...

Anyway,

Do you remember where it was stored? Don't worry. Here it is!

THE RANDOM ELEPHANT FIGURES?? I bet they're Keke's... Also, once again, many, many books left everywhere. He's insane.

Come here, you. What was that? No idea… You must have moved something that fell.

While I wish it was Luis, it's actually an unrelated monster under Bonta that will be a big problem in the next issue of the comic.

Come on… let's go! Yes… that was indeed the talking bow meow… who was transformed by a certain Ush.

The way he's talking about them here is so science-y. As if whether they would come or not was like an experiment to him. It's so funny.

Also, Pupuce!!!!! My beloved Pupuce. <3

My instincts tell me to go hang out in the slums for a while. If only he could stay there...

LMAOOO.

Once again, I am grateful that Ush's weird and creepy relationship with cats (albeit... sentient cats, at least) was retconned into a more positive one in season 4 of Wakfu. I still think it's fucking weird, but it certainly makes him funnier as a character.

Ush hates Bump, and it's really like... "my noble sentient catfucking (while i myself shapeshift into a cat) vs. your creepy and barbarous panty collecting."

Hello, you may call me Joris, I would like to meet the noble Ush in order to ask him a few questions about a rogue and a bow meow that... Master does not accept visitors. ??

THIS IS SO FUNNY. THE WAY HE INTRODUCED HIMSELF?? The way this guy closed the door. God...

Also, his cunty little hand on chest thing.... I CAN'T.

Mhh, very well… Let's see. Mhm... If anyone knows where the beating heart is, then that person is here. YYAAAAHH!

LITTLE GUY!!!!!!!!!!?? YOU SWAG TOO HARD. I CAN'T DO THIS AYMORE. His pure and beautiful whimsy... He's so happy to be running... Like a gazelle.

YAAH AH AH!! Anyone? And who're you? We're prisoners… Get us out of here, I beg you. D'you know a rogue and his bow meow brother?

Y'know, this page does haunt me a little. Because he's so, so informal here — and kind of insane too. HE BRINGS OVER A STOOL TO TALK TO TWO PEOPLE ACTIVELY BLEEDING OUT, JUST TO TALK TO THEM WHILE MAKING EYE CONTACT. After that, no vous/vous for them, and when they ask for help, he's like "yeah no, first tell me — do you know that guy who wronged me?"

I'm obsessed with him.

Do I know them? Of course, I know them. You could even say I'm here because of them. They talked about Ush, that's why I came. You get us out of here, and we'll help you find them. Oki-doki... cross my heart! But you'll have to find the key to open it. A key? To close things it might be necessary, yes, but not to open. You're small but mighty, I say!

While I think Joris is a good person and would have helped them even if they knew nothing, I do think that asking about Remington before he freed them was a way of subtly suggesting they help him in return.

Love the way he says "oki-doki"... this 600yo man and his multitudes...

Also, Joris can bend metal. Now imagine him chained up and just... casually breaking the chains, once he's done pretending to be trapped. No wonder Ush needed dragon slobber to restrain him.

He's a bit shaken up, but he should be fine… Stop that… I'm going to puke.

Beautiful.

This reaction Ush has to this huge-ass thing goes out to the Ush fans among my readers.

#remicomic #ro liveblogs dofus #krosmoz #dofus #wakfu #joris jurgen

[hazbinsimp777]

hello it me again lolol

I'd like to request a Vox x screen faced reader where reader who's like super affectionate? Preferably very wholesome and fluffy. Like maybe while Vox is hosting his late night show, behind the camera's is readers face screen showing a heart emoticon, little sprite versions of them kissing, "I love you" scrolling across the screen, ect.,

You ever seen Rina Tenoji's electric mask? I'm basically picturing something like that for reader. So sorry if the request is too specific!!

-🫖💖

A/N: Hiii again anon 🫖💖! Thank you for the Vox request! I love this so much! I had to Google the mask and I love the idea! <3

May I present....

~Screen to Be~

Sorry if the title is bad-

A vox x reader short

✅️ Fluff ✅️ Flustered Vox ✅️OOC Vox

It was no secret in Hell that you and Vox were an item, an exclusive one at that. Sure, other sinners have had theories that your relationship with the TV might be based solely on sex, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Well, based on what Velvette and Valentino had seen around the tower that is.

For one, you did not talk, you only have a electronic mask, that has what you say and helps you express your emotions. Vox always feels like he can talk to you about anything, from Alastor to annoying things that happen at work. You are always there and messaging his shoulders as he forgets what he was angry about in the first place. Always his number one supporter and fan.

But, however, the number one thing Vox LIVES for is your affection. You crave and give attention just as much as he does! Even more at times. You are always letting him kiss you, cuddles, holding hands, hand on your thigh, holding his shoulder and sitting on his lap anywhere. You are his IDEAL girlfriend. Where you are he will always be found not too far away from you.

This man is so in love with you its actually insane.

But today, Vox had to stay up for his late night show. He was working on the script for two days now and he was quite proud of his work. Vox, wanting to show you how great he is, with a puff of his chest, asked you to attend backstage. Of course you had accepted with a thumbs up emoji with a smiley face. Which read, "Ofc Babe :p"

He wanted to stuff you in his pocket right then and there.

That night, you both had arrived to the studio, where he was getting ready in his changing room. Were you had knocked, in which he said a quick, "come in." while fixing his tie.

You opened the door, peaking your head in, "I brought you some chips and water Babe :3" It read, scrolling across the screen.

Vox laughed, "Come in Babe, I want to see you." He said, his arms open for you.

Your mask said, "Okee ':D" Entering and closing the door behind you, handing him the chips and water.

Vox embraced you in a hug, your head in his chest, taking in the warmth and presence, "You know I love you right?" He whispered, tilting your chin up and looking at him.

"Why wouldn't you >:)" was on your mask. Vox only chuckled, giving you a kiss on the cheek, in which your mask made a flustered face.

Smiling, Vox reached for the water, taking a few sips before taking it, "I will be taking this, thanks Babe." He kissed your forehead before slamming the door shut. You noticed he did not take the chips, rolling your masked eyes, you take them, exiting the room.

"Airing in three, two and one." One of the producers said, holding some papers.

On cue, Vox had put his award winning smile, adjusting the papers in front of him. "Hi am Vox if any of you fuckers haven't heard of me and this is Voxtonight. Where we caught up on..."

You had arrived on the official set, behind the various cameras and production crew. Everyone moving out of their way to make a pathway to the front on the crew for you. Perk of being Vox's girlfriend, you re spoiled and privileged as fuck.

Anyway-

You saw Vox, talking about, well whatever, being his usual charming self. Its no wonder why he is the biggest TV star in the pride ring. Even using his hands to make himself more expressive and entertaining.

You walked near behind the camera, the cameraman was confused but let you do as you pleased anyways. Next thing you know, your boyfriend was making eye-contact with you. So, as an act of assurance, you both know he needs it, you had tons of heart emojis with an icon with you and Vox. Which said, "I love you <3"

"....Thats when I-I-I-I-I-" His screen started glitching, turning blue, sparks of electricity came flying, and his eye twitching. His production crew was panicking, not know what to do but shut down the whole show for that night.

Going to his aid, you rush to his side. "Babe? Are you okay ':( ?!" was written all over your screen.

But no response, only pictures of you all over his screen with heart pixels scattered.

"Code Y/N"

"Pretty Girl Alert"

"Love overdose"

"Cuteness overload"

"Lovesick Vox exe going offline."

You rolled your eyes, carrying him to your shared room. In the mist of all the chaos, you managed to ignore all of it. Ignoring all of the people who tried to ask you questions and are confused.

For the sake of everyone, you never went to any more of Vox's shows. Only visiting him in the dressing room. If you ever ask him about it, he will immediately deny any of it.

A/N: I hope this was up to your standards! Sorry it was short- I love you all and requests are closed! Writers block TvT

Drink water and Stay Healthy Lovlies! <3

#hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #vox x reader #vox x you #vox x y/n #fluff #adorable

[hyeinkiss]

fav moots & why

so fun let’s go!! im sorry if i forgot anyone but i love everyone 💗 also sorry if its not heartfelt, i had to redo this becoz my original one didn’t save 😭 im tired

@sainns — aka my wife!! i love her so much she’s my biggest supporter, like she supports ni-ki and i’s vv real relationship, just how i support annahoon…….. anyways. i mean it when i say i love her tho becoz she acc makes me happy when im sad and always knows the right thing to say, she makes me giggle and i hope she’s as happy talking to me as i am talking to her!! also she’s so HOTTTTT 🥵

@onlyjjong — MY LILI BAE!! i love when i check my inbox and it’s just u sending like 2939 asks hehe. i will never not love reading ur asks ur the sweetest person ever and always check in on me!! also ur stories r so good. u r my fav girl!!! (and jay’s im sure of it 🥰) ANYWAYS i hope we never ever ever stop talking bby becoz ilytoo much!!

@cupidhoons — first person i’ve wanted to be moots with on this app hehe!! she’s the cutest i love liz w my entire heart!!! she’s like the least mentally sane sunghoon stan and that’s saying a lot…….. anyways LOL. i love her as much as she love sunghoon 🥰🥰 ALSO SHES SO PRETTY??? like hello u could pull anyone u want 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ smh. (u pulled me w ur face AND ur fics……)

@reichamii — BLYTHE AKA GFFF!! she’s so cute and sweet im so glad we became moots becoz like i love her basically. ALSO HER DTORIESS UGLLIEJSKSKAN IM IN LOVE she has magic hands (not ina weird way….) but everytime she writes she makes smth not even edgar allen poe can compete with sorry not sorry 😜 ALSO SHES SO LRETTY

@flwrstqr — first moot so ofc she’s special!! nini is so sweet so nice and so beautiful how can i Not love her like be so forreal everyone needs a friend like nini 💗 she’s so silly yet mature at the same time also her works r a piece of art!! if i had a dime for every second i stalked her page and thought of nini id be like rich LOL

@bywons — srubooooo!!!! ahhh my cutie pie she’s acc beautiful im sure, just as pretty as her themes!!! i want to kiss her like mwah mwah mwah 💋 how can anyone be as nice as sru?? they can’t sorry 😢 i love sru. also her stories r so cute i used to read them sm before making my own blog LOLLLL

@lcvclywon — MY DAY 1!!! my biggest hype girl; always first to comment on everything i post and i’ll adore her eternally for that♥️ i hope that im making her feel as loved as she makes me feel, becoz yuya deserved praise more than anyone 💗 yuyayuyayuay will u be my gf plzplzplz 💗 top 3 fav moots everrrr!!!

&& some other people im not vv close with but would love to get closer to!! — @okwonyo (so perfect n poised) | @wvnkoi (the maturest sweetest girl ever) | @atrirose (i love her! seems so sweet!)

#☆ via’s baes #i hope i didn’t forget anyone #i love u all sry for yapping

[pixelnrd]

Hello :D

I wanted to know how do you decide the kids each sim has because I struggle to regulate my save’s population. I saw some people using dice to decide it and others simply have them by the decade they’re on but I still wanted to know your method!

Personally, I don’t ‘plan’ how many kids each generation will have too much but rather have in mind how many I think they would have had in that particular era of time and see how it works out.

If this is interesting for you, here is what informed each generation…

1890: large families were common, especially for working class folk, so I knew I would plan for at least 4 children. When I decided to go for a 5, it was twins.

1900: 2 children, as Ernie was aiming for a more upper class lifestyle. But I knew that Ernie would adopt his sisters daughter Marigold making it really 3 children.

1910: there was no official heir for this generation but I knew that Primrose and Marigold would each have 1 child. Primrose didn’t get to have anymore as she was widowed, but she helped raise Marigolds son which fulfilled any desire she had for more. Marigold was asexual, she had her son but just never fell pregnant again.

1920: Daisy had 3 children by seperate partners, as a consequence of being a very sexual and impulsive person during a time where there was no contraception.

1930: going back to working class farm roots during the Great Depression I thought the family would have more children again, so I knew there would be 4 at least. Having twins on the 2nd pregnancy meant that this happened quickly.

1940: I had planned for 2 children, one born during the war (Margot) and one born after the war, due to Douglas and Joan’s long time apart serving. However there was an accidental 3rd child anyway (Lewis).

1950: in the Baby Boom it felt natural to have a large family, so 4 was the goal again. However I remained open to 5, which is why Stella was conceived.

1960: when Leo became heir I knew he and Valerie wouldn’t be the big family type, and thanks to contraception they didn’t have to be. They were only meant to have 1 child and then realise they weren’t cut out for it, but had accidental twins.

1970: going back to Hippy roots again I felt Eleanor would have a larger family, with a goal of 3 - I decided later that 4 felt more fitting, it just took a long time for her to fall pregnant with Summer.

1980: 2 children was always the goal, as family sizes shrank towards the end of the century and April was a working woman. When River remarried I knew he would have a later-in-life child with his new wife.

1990: playing with early IVF technology I knew that Jenny and Heather would have a multiples pregnancy of at least 2 - having 3 was a fun bonus!

#asks #answers

[mae-gi-writes]

Finders Keepers | Gally [TMR] - Part 3

In which Gally gets soft for one of the boys in the Glade, only…is it a boy? alternatively; In which Mai disguises herself into a boy to fit in the Glade, only to be suspected by the keen eyes of the Builder's Keeper.

taglist: @edynmeyer1 @ss28

Also available on Wattpad.

A/N: I'm sorry but can we take a moment to look at this fine-ass man? Thank you very much.

PREVIOUS | NEXT >>

-----

The first thing that Mai thinks of the moment her eyes spring open is Gally.

Him, and the fact that she's literally made a deal with him. Why? All for a lie.

A lie upon a lie.

Great, Mai wonders what he would make of her if he knew she was a girl. Probably never let her hear the end of it, surely.

It takes a lot for her to drag herself out of bed when she catches sight of Frypan to her left, getting a hold of his shoes and trudging to the kitchen. Mai sighs, running a hand through her short strands before slipping on her own boots to follow the dark-skinned boy.

It's still early and the Maze walls aren't open yet, giving the duo enough time to prepare all ingredients before the Runners start twitching in their hammocks. Frypan gives her the toasting of bread and the cutting of vegetables while he takes charge of the eggs, his good mood boosting the atmosphere and making her feel at ease in his presence. He's a nice guy, Mai decides as she watches him with a small smile, dancing about and humming tunes to himself, tunes probably from his past memory.

"How ya holdin' up, Mai?" Frypan asks as he overlooks his eggs, "you doing okay?"

"Fine," Mai replies, realizing that she'll have to either restrain herself from talking or talk in a deeper voice so that they won't get suspicious of her. Though, with the baggy clothes she's inherited from the storage room, it will take a while. They're all so large they practically dwarf her skinny frame.

It's finally breakfast time and the Runners are up first, getting their load of eggs, toast and bacon before they settle at their usual table. Minho's here too, grinning at her while she loads up his plate, "enjoying your new job, Greenie?"

"My name is Mai." she throws him a scowl, but he just laughs, "yeah yeah, sorry. The name suits you. Anyway, Mai," he makes a good point of dragging the word out, "hope your cooking's as good as Fry's."

"If not better," she answers with a roll of her eyes before moving on to the next Runner.

"Don't forget to pack their lunches!"

"For shuck sake," Mai mutters as she quickly moves on to the lunches.

Minho settles himself down at the countertop, not really caring whether she looks like she's in a panic, "Ever wanted to go out into the Maze, Greenie?" he asks, watching her quickly build up the sandwiches with amusement.

"No," Mai responds as she finishes wrapping up a sandwich, "aren't you scared of going out there everyday?"

The asian boy shrugs, "it's our job. That's what we do as Runners, we try to find a way out of this place."

"And have you?"

"Not yet," he presses his lips together, face drawn and serious, "but we hope we will soon. We've got a clue that might lead us the right way."

"Right," Mai finishes up his sandwich and hands it out to him, "you'll need all of that energy then."

"Thanks," he tucks it into his satchel, then without warning reaches over to ruffle her hair as Mai protests, "I'll see you tonight."

She barely has time to tell him off about touching her hair with the same hands that touched his food before he's setting off towards the Maze doors. Embarrassed and flustered, Mai pats her hair down in hopes of getting her heartbeat back to normal when a voice causes her to jump.

"You look pathetic."

"Jesus Gally!" Mai holds a hand to her chest, throwing him a glare as she does so, "can't you say hello like any shuck human?"

Gally shrugs, leaning over the counter where Minho had been a few seconds ago, "why you looking at him like that, huh?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mai starts assembling his plate, putting two toasted bread slices before going to the eggs.

"Your face says otherwise."

She scoops up some extra eggs and bacon onto his plate before shoving it into his hand, "just go eat Gally, and leave me alone."

"Sure thing Greenie," he smirks, which causes Mai to scowl even deeper, "you're holding up the line."

Thankfully he doesn't fight her, merely picks up his utensils before trudging off to find a seat.

Mai blows out air from her mouth. Today's going to be a long day.

——-

"Newt, right?"

The elfin-faces boy looks up from his gardening spot, frown dissipating into confusion when he finds Mai looking up at him with an expression similar to a deer in the headlight's.

"Hey Mai, everything okay?"

That's probably the first person to address her with her name and she will certainly not forget that.

"Yes everything is fine. Uhm— Frypan needs more tomatoes for the stir-fry tonight," Mai tries not to fidget under Newt's intense stare, "so..."

"Yeah," Newt looks over to another boy not too far from him, "Oi Zart," he calls out, "think we got some tomatoes to spare them?"

"Should have," the boy called Zart replies, "just need to cut 'em."

While Mai lingers around for Zart's tomatoes, she decides to keep Newt company as he toils through the soil.

"I thought you were second-in-command," Mai's eyes linger over the way Newt seems to drag his leg. It's a small limp, barely noticeable and yet, it seems like it hurts him, "why are you out here in the gardens?"

"Ey well, I like planting," he throws a small smile her way, "but I also tend to walk around and oversee stuff when Alby's not around."

"Where is Alby anyway?"

"He's been up all night, the poor shank," Newt shakes his head as he pulls out a few weeds, "the Runner seem to have made some progress. He's probably busy with that." Only then does he glance at her small frame, "you doing okay with Frypan in the kitchen?"

"He's great," Mai nods, "I like him."

Newt chuckles, "everyone does."

She finds that he's easy to talk to, this blonde boy who barely looks over sixteen yet speaks with the experience of an adult that's lived here for ages. Mai realizes she feels comfortable in his presence and before she knows it, has spent the entire afternoon by his side as he goes through his tasks.

Only at Frypan's call does she clamber back to the kitchen with an apologetic wave in Newt's direction and her basket full of ripe tomatoes.

She's halfway to the Homestead when she collides against a hard wall. No, not a hard wall. Someone. And that someone's angry.

"Hey watch it!" An angry Gally comes out from the other side, causing Mai to yelp out, "I'm so sorry Gally, I—" her eyes are wide as she sways, basket threatening to fall in her hold, "I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going—"

"What're you doing carrying that klunk around by yourself?" He interrupts, glowering at her.

Mai winces, hating the intensity of his eyes because god he can be scary when he wants to be, "I--Frypan needs more veggies for dinner so I--"

"Oh slim it, Greenie." And before she knows it, he's hoisted her basket out of her hold and is already striding towards the kitchen, leaving Mai to run after him in hopes of catching up to his giant strides, "you don't have to help--"

"Too late for that," he grunts out. He reaches the counter and hoists the basket onto its surface, throwing her a glare that makes her want to shrivel up and die in a corner, "watch where you're going next time. You have eyes, don't you?"

"Yes," her mumble barely makes it out of her mouth as her eyes glue themselves to the ground.

"So use them," he turns to go but Frypan's voice echoes through the air, "hey Gally! What brings you over?"

"Nothing," his eyes narrow towards Mai, "just this shank being useless."

"What happened?" Frypan looks over at the smaller Glader, concern swimming in his voice as he asks, "did you get hurt?"

"Of course not," Gally growls out, "but you might want to stick him into the kitchen instead of making him run around to get your stuff. He's weak as shuck."

"Gally," Frypan tuts, though there's a grin on the Cook's face. He turns to Mai, "don't worry about him. He's always this grumpy during the day. I think it's because he hasn't eaten yet."

The said grumpy Glader is already walking away at this point, leaving an amused Frypan and a traumatized Mai in his wake. The brown-skinned boy throws Mai a smile, as if to comfort her, "Don't worry about him, Mai. He's a bit rough around the edges, but his heart's in the right place."

"Not too sure about that," Mai mutters, though it reaches Frypan's ears and causes him to chortle in laughter, "come on," he motions towards the uncut veggies, "we got a lot of shanks to feed."

——-

Night falls and as usual, Mai waits in her hammock, curled up and tucked in to try and look as if she's already asleep as the rest of the Gladers shuffle to their own spaces. The chatter slowly dies down one by one and soon, even Newt, who's done his round around the Glade, settles in and murmurs a soft goodnight to her before turning his light out.

Mai waits, breathing as softly and as steadily as she can.

And then, when silence stretches out before her like a blank canvas, she decides to take the chance.

Slowly letting herself down from her hammock, she pads out of the Homestead as gently as she can, hurrying past the group of Huts where the rest of the Keepers are currently asleep. She hears a soft snore coming from Minho's hut and a small giggle escapes her lips. She can imagine him now, mouth parted and legs akimbo, probably dead tired from this morning's run.

Mai almost makes it to the showers when sudden footsteps echo behind her.

She swirls around, eyes wide and alert, only for her eyes to land on a familiar face.

"Gally?" she whispers hoarsely.

He lets out the most exasperated sigh she's ever heard from him yet, "You again?" He rubs a hand over his face, it's clear that he's tired too and half-asleep, "what're you doing out here?"

"I..." her voice trails off unsurely. What should she say? Should she just make up an excuse about wanting the loo?

Gally lets out another sigh before he regards her with a look, crossing his arms over his chest, "showers again?" he prompts when silence is her only answer.

He gets confirmation at her nod and after a few beats of more silence, the Builder shakes his head before motioning towards the shower, brushing past her in the process, "come on then, you crazy shank." he mumbles.

Maybe his words are a bit vicious, but it's probably the darkness that softens his tone and causes a small smile to quirk at the corner of Mai's lips as she follows him.

Contrary to his grumbling and his groaning, Gally stands outside the shower stalls -- after having been pushed out by the Greenie when he'd walked in and turned away -- a bit confused as to why Mai was so adamant on keeping her privacy. It just doesn't make sense, considering that they're all built the same. Right?

Unless...

Unless there's something that the Greenie is hiding.

Gally's foot taps impatiently out of pure habit, something he's picked up while deep in thought. What is it that Mai doesn't want to show other Gladers? He can't seem to think of one possibility apart from the very literal one that would've been so obvious that--

Wait.

Wait wait wait.

Wait a shuck minute.

No.

That's not possible.

The entirety of Gally's body freezes up like stone. For a moment, he thinks he forgets to breathe.

No. It can't be. Mai's a guy just like all the other Greenies that came up before. And he looks like one, there's no way he isn't one unless this is some sort of sick joke to the Creators. And if he was -- hypothetically speaking -- a girl, then why the need to hide?

Gally wants to laugh at himself for being so stupid. Of course not. He would've seen it since the very beginning. Girls had...well, different assets than guys, so he wouldn't have been able to keep it a secret for so long.

Yes, Gally was certain there was nothing else there. Mai just wants some privacy, as simple as that, because Mai fancies guys.

"Gally?"

His body unfreezes at the sound of the Greenie's voice. He steps away from the door and turns to see the younger boy, at the way his newly washed hair falls into his face and how he's practically swimming in his clothes. With his hair down like this, Gally can almost picture Mai being a girl, all soft features and small mouth and wide eyes that look like he's constantly surprised.

He's a guy, Gally repeats to himself. He is a guy.

But what if there is the possibility that Mai is a girl? Then what?

Doesn't that mean something to the Glade? Doesn't that threaten their supposed peace? Is it a sign?

And if so, is he supposed to tell Alby and Newt about it?

"Gally, you okay?" Mai asks, causing the said Builder to snap back to reality. He clears his throat, "yeah m'fine. Let's go."

He walks a little too fast for Mai's liking back to Homestead, but he realizes that he doesn't care. His mind is spinning too much and there are so many thoughts crowding his brain that he just wants to sleep and forget everything about that new stupid Greenie.

Tomorrow, everything will go back to normal and Gally can go on with his life just like he'd done for the past three years.

#gally #gally tmr #the maze runner gally #the maze runner fanfiction #the maze runner #tmr fanfic #tmr imagines #tmr thomas #tmr newt #tmr gally #tmr minho #the scorch trials #the death cure #romcom #angst #gally x reader #gally x y/n #gally x you #gally maze runner #tmr x you #tmr x reader #tmr x y/n #the maze runner x reader #the maze runner x you

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

hello ari i am gently bonking your head with mine hehehe this is how we exchange ideas ok..... now that i've heard abt arisugu n arigojo first meetings.... i do need to know abt arikenny's first interaction now!!!!! and and and.... is.... is arishoko also a thing.... bc i think she would absolutely love you too like holy fuck you guys would work so well i feel like!!!!!!!!!!! why'd i immediately think of a first meeting that's like a little clumsy and cute?? like smth along the lines of you just bumping into her in like a coffee shop???? and you'd apologize over the shoulder and then she's just staring at you with that little devious smile of hers???? hehehe idk i feel like this could be canon ok anyway ily don't stay up too late my love!!!! mwah<3 - @teddybeartoji

HELLO MICKEY :33 this is us rn

okay so !!! i thought a Lot abt this one….. arishoko n arikenny are definitely the ones that r the least. Clear. in my mind. bUT i love them very dearly so!!!! we’ll see if i can make this cohesive 😭

FIRST OF ALLLL arishoko :33 it’s very very much a Thing honestly i think that. realistically. out of all four options shoko is the one i’d get together w irl… she’s just very much my type n i think i could charm her w my silly ways !!!!! but yes …..

OKAY SO I THINK. that. you’re absolutely right….. it’s a lot more soft n sweet than some of the other ones 😭 THE CAFE IDEA IS SOOOO CUTE cafe dates would be our standard for sure…… BUT I FEEL LIKE. we would meet. at a Bar. i don’t drink so i’d probably just be there accompanying a friend and i’m hating every second of it bc :// there r ppl around :/// the music is kinda loud and the lighting hurts my eyes :////// i’m just suffering and trying to read my lil book while my friends are dancing in the corner and ohhhh would you look at that…… a pretty girl is sitting rlly close to me…………. and i’m trying to subtly stare at her bc i’m enamored and. i think. she catches me in the act and i get flusteredPBDKDBDJD you get the vibes. i’m normal abt her.

so she strikes up a conversation …….. for SURE teases me abt coming to a bar just to read my gay little book and order sweet non-alcoholic drinks smh (may or may not make a throwaway comment abt how she has a friend who’s just like that… i’m forever thinking abt her calling gojo a big kid in one of the light novels bc she had to find a bar that sells non-alcoholic drinks for him LMAOO)…. and i am just. a little smitten. this is 100% an ari falls first kind of scenario i can’t resist the allure of a super pretty mysterious woman !!! :((((( and then i think she recommends a bar . that’s a lot more chill. that she likes. and she kinda just coaxes me into dating her i think 😭😭 i doooo see it as a slowburn but not nearly as much as the others shoko has me wrapped around her finger 💔💔

OH ANDDDD i should mention that i thought more abt the Lore both for arishoko and arigojo and!!!! i think that i’d probably be a non-sorcerer in both…. bc i think satoshoko in particular would rlly benefit from that ?? likeee shoko just meets someone outside of the school / jujutsu society and it’s just. a kind of normalcy that she doesn’t usually have!!! one that she finds rlly precious!!!! :((( and it’s the same w gojo but even worse bc i think he Craves normalcy. shoko already has canonical ties to non-sorcerers but gojo is kinda stuck in the jujutsu world so :’3 i feel like he’d meet a rando and just. fall for them very hard. they don’t know who he is, they don’t know he’s the strongest. to them he’s just. a Guy. and i think he loves that a lot. i’m just their Just Some Guy <333333 i think they’d both be reallyyyy adamant on Not getting me involved in their world at all. gojo introduces me to the students and shoko (begrudingly) introduces me to gojo when he crashes our date (😔) but it’s like. they’re protective … yk ……

…… this is already rlly long T—T BUT THE TRAIN NEVER STOPS i need to let it run its course…….

with that being said !!!! arikenny. the Forbidden selfship. the deranged version of arisugu. where do i even begin w this man….

honestly . this one is… yeah . i imagine it as an established relationship (<- very vaguely) bc it’s hard to picture Anyone capturing kenny’s attention w/o being reallyyyyy special 😭😭 which is why i have less thoughts on the Lore and more on the dynamic itself!!! but ummmm . i can picture us meeting in a coffee shop…. there’s this old wip i have where reader spots him sitting in a corner and eventually they start talking. abt the books they’re reading. nothing much just kenny picking their brain a little and yapping just to yap….. so i could picture it being kinda like that!! maybe i capture his attention somehow? 😭 it only really makes sense if i happen to be beneficial to his plan or something…? BUUT again i’m not super interested in the lore for this one!!!! so i’ll just talk a lil abt the dynamic hehe.

i just think. kenny is a freak. i’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure him out when it comes to x reader stuff bc i think his love is very unorthodox 😭 he’s just so detached yk?? buuut i think he can be very silly and affectionate in his own way :3 i fear he’s a Mother and a Father in one. in the worst of ways…. i could only picture him being in an Actual relationship w someone he views as his equal, but i don’t know if . that could ever apply to me LMAO. so if anything i think it’s similar to moji in that….. he just. finds a puppy in the pouring rain and brings it home. bc it’s kinda silly and good company. so maybe he does see me a little like. a Pet. kind of . I DOOO WANT TO SAY HE CARES FOR ME BUT. yk… he really wasn’t built for selfshipping. he’s a weirdo!! but i think it’s love at first sight for me…. i’m weak for milfs i fear 💔💔 and i think he does develop some kind of soft spot eventually :3 we’re. roommates. roommates who play board games and sleep in each others’ lap. roommates who kiss. i’d like to kiss his brain. WHO SAID THAT…

ok that was a big big ramble but !!!!! standard arimickey interaction let’s be real. it’s funny bc arishoko is so grounded somehow and arikenny is 💀💀 the way it is. i guess it’s sort of like a god/devout believer pairing … but without. the religious aspect. i think there’s very much a power dynamic involved this bitch is ANCIENT….. anyway that’s all tysm for reading my lovely sunflower baby <33333 i hope !! you’re having a nice day!!! ilyvm!!!!

#i saw. you make a post abt the movie i think 👀 so im assuming it was super duper good #IM VERY HAPPY FOR U <3333 i checked and theyre showing it at my cinema rn!!! will def check it out when i get the chance :3 #ty for indulging my silly little selfships <3 arikenny does make me very insane even though it’s. the weirdest one.. #ive said it before and ill say it again!!! single moms r allowed to do whatever. if she asks me to bark i will i’m loyal ‼️‼️ #(if u listen closely u can hear my sanity slipping away) #ily soooo much <33333 sending you my coziest fluffiest vibes :3 #ask tag ✩ #mickey !! ✩