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#but I had no reason to understand it then
natalieironside · 2 days
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I think recurring themes in Junji Ito's work generally resembles classical tragedy in interesting ways. Let me explain.
It's like a meme to reduce the themes in Ito's work down to "It sure would be fucked up if XYZ happened for no reason," and that's of course silly and simplistic, but let's look at its nugget of truth. A better way to put it might be, "It sure would be fucked up if [incomprehensible horror] happened to somebody who was utterly powerless to understand or influence things or to do much at all besides bear mute and wondering witness." I think a big appeal of these types of stories is that that's a pretty good description of, like, day-to-day life here on God's own Earth. Shit just...happens to ya, and you don't why, and you can't stop it. How could there be a truer reflection of life than a tale of Some Guy stumbling into a raw deal?
Finding a hole you know you're gonna have to crawl into because somehow you just know it's your hole and it was made for is one good example. Another might be if you found out everybody in your city is dying because God hates you personally and God hates you personally because your wife of 20ish years is actually your mom and you had no idea about any of this.
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thydungeongal · 14 hours
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You do of course understand that the reason most people prefer DND 5E is that it's one of the easiest systems to learn? Like I'm sorry it's all well and good to 'break up the cultural monopoly' but I have Dyscalculia and DND is seemingly the only tabletop system that doesn't consistently ask me to do a hefty amount of complex math. I've never given WOTC a penny but the reason I've primarily played 5E over basically everything else is it's the only system that was extremely easy to learn and completely self explanatory. (Also - I like elves and magic and shit.) You roll one dice to see if you can do a thing, you add whatever your plus or minus is, and then roll damage where appropriate. Easy. Meanwhile seemingly everything else is like "Okay so you roll two dice except sometimes it's four and then you take this stat and you divide it by that dice roll and then you add a number equivalent to the day of the week unless it's a leap year then you times that by three and if you get a prime number you can lift that coffee cup." Like have you ever heard of Villains and Vigilantes, for instance? It's fucking insane. Like I'm not saying I don't get why you wanna make this point? But I feel like I have to point out that most people who make indie TTRPG's don't seem to focus on accessibility when designing their systems and they are EXTREMELY intimidating for new players. And often, what people who are big into TTRPG's do is assume that because THEY fully understand this system and how it works, new players will too just as easily. The amount of times I've spoken to a GM, said "This sounds a bit complicated", and they've gone "No no no it's easy" and then described the most complicated set of rules I've ever heard is ridiculous.
Okay it sounds you've had a very narrow range of experiences with RPGs then because D&D 5e is on the higher end of complexity when it comes to RPGs and most indie RPGs are actually a lot less complex than D&D 5e. Like, Villains & Vigilantes is not the median when it comes to RPG complexity. There are systems even lighter than D&D out there. :)
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miley1442111 · 19 hours
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stalker- s.reid
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
summary: spencer saves you.
pairing: spencer reid x reader
warnings: general criminal minds topics, gore and brief descriptions of harm, mutual pining, heavy topics, stalking, reader if from Texas
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Spencer sat at his desk, a less than pleasant expression on his face. His glasses had slid down his nose, his usually perfectly gelled hair was messy, and a frown played at his lips. 
“If you stare any longer you’re going to end up with your face stuck like that,” Jj joked as she placed herself in his eyeline. Spencer’s frown deepened and Jj chuckled. “Come on, we have a case.”
Spencer got up, falling into stride with you as you left your desk, hanging up the phone.
“Who were you talking to?” He asked, trying to make small talk. You were new to the team, an old contractor Strauss had hand-picked, you were smart (smarter than him), beautiful, and you were so polite and dutiful that Spencer couldn’t tell if you were actually his friend. You just had an air of coolness that seemed so unreachable for Spencer. You and Derek had worked together in Chicago, you two made sense as friends, Penelope, Emily, Jj, and you all got along well, that made sense. David and you had a shared love of cooking, something SPencer couldn’t even begin to understand. You even made Aaron laugh on the worst of days with some witty comment or sarcastic joke. 
Had Derek just asked you to befriend Spencer for the team's sake? Why would you be interested in him? It made no sense.
You smiled. “My friend from home.”
“Where are you from?” He asked as you two sat in the conference room, Aaron shot you two a look that Spencer clearly didn’t see so you didn’t answer. 
“Tell you later,” you whispered as the briefing began. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Walking into the sweltering heat of Texas from the lovely air-conditioned plane was quite the shock to the body. 
“Fuck it’s hot,” you sighed, pulling off your hoodie to reveal a tight black top beneath. Yes, it was work-appropriate and completely within regulations, but Spencer’s eyes all but popped out of his head like he was in one of those cartoons. 
“You’re drooling,” Derek joked from beside him, pretending to wipe his chin. Spencer pushed his hands away with a shy smile, trying to recover from his embarrassing moment. 
“Ok, Spencer and Derek you two go to the latest crime scene, Y/n, Jj and I will go to the precinct, David and Emily you two will go talk to the deceased family,” Aaron gave out jobs. “Oh and Y/n, I want you with someone at all times, this unSub is going after women with your exact description and our team is a definite hit for him. He’s made contact with the police asking specifically for you and me,” Aaron explained. 
You all dispersed into your separate cars and began working the case. The precinct was full of slimy cops who all promised to ‘protect you’, just not from themselves.
“We want you to wear this,” Jj handed you a bulletproof vest and you rolled your eyes. 
“Seriously? I’m not a porcelain doll, I can handle myself-” You tried to reason with them but the look on Aaron’s face made you stop. He, himself, was wearing one too. “Fine.”
“Good,” Jj smiled. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spencer was worrying himself sick at the crime scene, rambling about all the ways the unSub could get to you and how you shouldn’t even be in the state.
“Spencer!” Derek exclaimed. “Go to your girlfriend, send Jj back after you. You’re no help when you’re like this.”
Spencer didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the keys and drove down to the precinct, finding Jj immediately and making up a poorly executed lie about feeling sick. She saw right through him.
“Hope you feel better Spence,” she smirked. “Y/n is with Hotch interviewing a suspect here,” she pointed it out on a map. “See you later.”
After grabbing the keys to Emily and David’s vehicle (they’d just come back from the crime scene) and driving there, anxiety ran through him as he found the door to the farmhouse open. He turned the corner, finding three figures. One was on the floor, shouting in agony, the other was standing, hands above their head. The third was holding a gun.
He turned back, dialling Derek’s number. 
“We need back-up, we’re at 34 Terrace Avenue! Agent down!” He spoke quietly into his phone. 
“We’re on the way kid, don’t go in without back-up,” Derek told him. Spencer didn’t respond. “Spencer?”
“She’s dying,” he reasoned and hung up, walking in. “FBI! Put your weapons down!” 
The unSub, Mitchell O’Hara had been obsessed with you since high school, you’d rejected him in senior year when he’d asked you to the prom since you already had plans with friends. All over the farmhouse, there were photos of you from every stage of your life. Childhood to teenage years, to college years, to your various positions before joining the BAU just a few months ago, including your CIA and covert Ops positions. 
Spencer could see you on the ground, multiple knife wounds in your exposed torso, he’d made you take off your vest, Spencer thought. You groaned in pain on the floor. “Spencer?” You asked hazily. Spencer kept his gun trained on Mitchell. 
“Yeah?” He was stalling, waiting for Aaron to get his own gun or for back-up to arrive. 
“Good,” you were slipping out of consciousness. “I’ve always liked you,” you smiled hazily. Spencer would be elated at those words if the circumstances were different. 
“This is your dream guy Y/n?!” Mitchell shouted. “Him?!” 
“He’s nice,” you managed. “He’s funny.”
“I’m nice! I’m funny!” Mitchell screamed. 
“You’re not Spencer,” you mumbled as everything went dark. 
SWAT suddenly filled the room and Spencer ran to you, trying to stop the bleeding. Thank god Derek had ordered for an ambulance to follow them to the scene.
As Aaron cuffed Mitchell, Spencer went with you in the ambulance. He watched as they attempted to treat your wounds, needing to cut open your shirt. Spencer was shocked to find what looked like 50 different scars. Some from bullets, others knives, others things he couldn’t name. He knew you’d been in the CIA and on a Cover Ops team, he never thought you would’ve been hurt this many times and still have the strength to go on. The ambulance pulled up to the hospital and you were brought straight into emergency surgery. 
He waited for hours there just pacing, nervously biting at his nails, or attempting to sit there as no one told him a thing. He lied, saying he was your boyfriend. Technically it wasn’t a lie, you liked him, he liked you. He just hadn’t asked. 
“Dr. Reid?” A nurse called out. He stood immediately. “She’s stable and should be waking up soon, you can see her.”
Spencer nodded a ‘thanks’ her way and entered your hospital room. 
You were alive. You were here. You were awake. 
You smiled at him. “Hey.”
Your voice was hoarse, tired from the shouting you’d done. 
“Hi.”
“Thanks for saving me Spencer,” you smiled. “And about what I said… if you don’t feel the same I’d totally get it. I just thought I was… y’know dying so…”
Spencer shook his head and smiled. “I like you a lot too.”
You grinned. “Good.”
He leaned down, a sudden surge of confidence ran through him and he kissed you softly.
“I’m from Texas by the way,” you smiled against his lips. 
“I actually guessed that, yeah,” he joked, making you laugh. God, he loved your laugh. 
He loved you. He just wouldn’t tell you that yet.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
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moonstruckme · 1 day
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I recently found ur page and omfg I spent hours yesterday reading all ur work!!!! What a lil fic of Sirius and reader but like pre relationship where she's in the hospital (u can pick reason) and she refuses to see anyone and just asks for Sirius
Thanks for requesting my love!
cw: hospital, mention of stitches
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 906 words
Sirius feels awkward and stiff as he pulls back the curtain, though for all he knows you’re too hopped up on pain meds to even know it’s him. Really, that’s the only reasonable explanation for the directions the nurse had just delivered: “She said she’ll only see Sirius right now.” 
He has no clue why you’d ask for him. He’s probably the least comforting of your roommates, and as soon as he catches sight of you, knees tented in front of your chest and hands clasped around your ankles, his worry for your choice deepens. 
Someone’s tried to clean you up, but they’ve done a shit job of it. There’s still blood crusted on your chin, and your face is blotchy, your cheeks smeared with dark gray like you’d wiped across them with your hands only to spread your makeup off to the sides. James had said you’d cried the whole car ride to A&E, but Sirius still wasn’t prepared to see you like this. His chest feels hollow and achy. 
“Hey,” you say, voice scratchy. If hearts have strings, you’re playing his like a fiddle. 
“Hey, doll.” He goes for a smile as he sits on the edge of your little cot, managing to sound halfway normal. “Come here often?” 
You start to grin, then stop like it hurts. Sirius stops, too. 
“Yeah, you know,” you say, “now and then.” 
“Don’t see why.” He makes a show of looking about him, at the papery blue curtain and beige-ish linoleum floors. “Place is sorta depressing.” 
You roll your eyes, and Sirius’ heart lightens to see you in a better humor. “Yeah, I think I’ve judged my hangout poorly. I’m dying to get out of here.” 
He’ll bet. You’ve been here hours longer than him. James had been the only one home with you when you’d tripped on the stairs and bitten through your lip, and Sirius and Remus had only found out when they’d gotten home and seen the note James left, his already scribbly handwriting worsened by haste and panic. By the time they’d arrived they’d missed most of the action (Sirius was secretly thankful for that) and James had filled them in before the nurse had come out to inform them that you’d gotten three stitches in your lip and summoned Sirius back. 
“I can understand that.” He gives you his best approximation of James’ easygoing grin. “You ready to go home then, gorgeous?” 
The shift is slight, but Sirius sees your bravado fade, a shyness entering your expression. “That’s actually why I wanted to see you,” you say.
“Yeah?” He doesn’t bother to hide his curiosity. “Why’s that?” 
“Because I know you’ll be honest with me.” 
He feels his eyebrows go up. “About what, doll?” 
You shrink a bit, knees drawing closer to your chest. Your voice is small when you ask, “Is it awful? I mean, do I look awful?” 
Ah. Sirius can see why you’d want him for this, but you’re wrong in your assumption. He’d absolutely lie to you if he needed to, just like Remus or James would in his place. But you’ve asked for him, so Sirius tries to do right by you. 
“You could never look awful, dollface. Be sensible.” He squints his eyes teasingly, reaching for your ankle and giving it a reprimanding little shake. “It’s just a couple of stitches, you haven’t been warped unrecognizable.” 
You frown, and it’s even more upsetting than usual. Your eyes look heart-breakingly insecure. “Are you sure?” you ask softly. 
“Yeah, I’m fucking sure.” Sirius scoffs like you’re unbelievable. “You said it yourself, babe, I wouldn’t lie to you.” He definitely would, but there’ll never be an occasion for that. He can’t imagine you genuinely looking bad. “I can clean you up a bit, though, if you’d like.” 
You blink. “Um, yeah. If you think it would help.” 
“Brilliant. Sit tight.” Sirius gets up and starts going through drawers, sifting through medical supplies for something he can use. 
“Fairly sure you’re not supposed to do that.” You sound like you’re trying not to smile. 
“Fairly certain my taxes pay for this place, and they’ve left my best-looking roommate with a dirty face.” He finds a box of mini-wipes, turning back to you. “Don’t tell James I’ve said that.” 
“Oh, I’m definitely tattling on you,” you tease, and Sirius is caught between feeling triumphant and worried that you look very near to grinning. He has no clue how easy it is to tear your stitches. 
“What, you want us to match? That’s cruel, sweetheart.” 
You roll your eyes. “He won’t punch you.” 
Sirius huffs a laugh, holding you still with a hand on your jaw as he wipes gently at your chin. “You haven’t known him as long as I have.” 
Your brows flick up as you meet his eyes, disbelieving. “Our James? You really think our James would hit you for saying he’s not the best looking roommate?” 
“Well, not if you’re in front of me,” he muses. He throws out the first wipe, ripping open another. “He already feels bad for you, so maybe that can work in my favor. If you are going to tell him, lean on me as we walk out, okay, doll? Give me a fighting chance.” 
The corner of your lips twist as you close your eyes and Sirius wipes sideways across your cheek. “Yeah, fair enough. I’ll do my best for you.”
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thegnomelord · 1 day
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Okay fuck after reading @killerkillerkillher 's fic with demon Soap and Price, and angel Ghost and Gaz, it got my own brain worms multiplying (as if I don't have enough going on lol) so here's the au draft that's been rotting for a while lol.
So here's an idea for an au:
Reader is part of a small group of friends that are Ghost hunters/DIY exorcists (read: They're all drop out college students and the ghost hunting youtube channel's putting food on the table). Reader doesn't believe in the supernatural but the friends keep reader around because you're the group's 'ghost deterrent' because spirits GTFO when reader's near and reader thinks the friends are just bullshitting you.
Anyway the group are moving to a bumfuck town in the middle of nowhere where an old haunted house the reader's grandmother left is. Then their pos car breaks down an hour away from town. 'Luckily' the town's mechanic, Johnny, was just driving by and helps you lot out. And ain't he a handsome devil (emphasis on devil) thinking he can con a couple of young and dumb humans out of their souls. Soap's all hooded eyes and husky voice as he lures you away like a lamb to a supply closet, oil darkened hands sliding under your shirt and lips sucking dark hickeys into your throat.
He pulls away when you tug on his mohawk, raising his head until his lips are just inches from your own and you don't even notice him mutter a verbal contract, nor do you understand you've agreed to one when his lips crash on yours like he's drowning.
And Johnny's grinning into the kiss like a loon as he tries to take the soul of the stupid but hot mortal he's just met only to find out he... he can't. No matter how consuming his kisses are or how aroused both of you get your soul sits stubbornly in your chest and doesn't even budge.
When your friend bangs on the door and yells for you to "stop shagging every guy you meet!" you're forced to give an awkward goodbye and scurry away. And Soap's left completely bewildered and confused as fuck wondering what just happened and thinks he needs to tell Price.
Meanwhile, while your car's being fixed up, your friends drag you to the town's only pub that's run by a Simon Riley. He's an intimidating man without trying to be, but he doesn't immediately chase you out like some bar owners. He's quiet, listening to your friends chatter while cleaning a glass rough scarred hands, but the way he looks at you is... odd. Like you're an interesting bauble he's found on his gran's shelf.
He's there to catch you when you trip on a raised floorboard you swear wasn't there before. "Thanks, I owe you one." You say with a small awkward laugh, though for some reason it feels like him catching you had been an excuse to touch you.
"That so?" His thumb traces the dark hickeys across your throat, surprisingly soft, and you can feel your cheeks getting hot. "You let Johnny have fun with you?" His chuckle is rich like aged wine, fingers gently pressing down on a hickey; it feels possessive. "You'd let any old thing like me take from you, yeah?" There's something in his words that has a shiver running down your spine, though from apprehension or arousal you're not sure.
"Ye- eh, yeah." You don't know which question you're agreeing with, and you understand the weight of your words, quickly walking away from him before your friends can embarrass you by wolf whistling at you and him. And you completely forget to ask on how he knows it was the mechanic who gave you the hickeys.
With still some time to burn before sun sets you decide to visit the radio station in town, mainly because your friend swears on his life that those are always haunted or have some decrepit old host that knows all the gossip in town. And when you meet the man you had heard softly yet confidently talking on the radio? He's handsome, pretty brown eyes as enticing as his voice, and you're starting to sense a theme with you meeting all these very nice looking men.
But Kyle, or Gaz as he asks you to call him, is a wealth of knowledge to the point you're not sure where the gossip stops and some crumb of truth begins. He talks all the way into the night with you and your gang of amateur ghost hunters, and you see why he is the radio host because his voice is like the song of angels, silk soft on your ears and you feel like you could fall into the best sleep of your life from listening to him.
And all he wants from you in return for his knowledge? "Nothing much mate, just a small favor, I'm sure you'll manage." Kyle leans in and pecks your lips like he's sealing a promise, or a bargain, but that's just you being stupid after getting kissed by the second hot guy today, surely. Gaz already knows he can't just nab your soul, he has ears in every wall in this town, but at least he can put his own claim on you.
Day, for the most part, well spent you and your friends go to the house for a good night's rest. It isn't any good as you're woken up numerous times and by morning you have several broken vases and an exploded lightbulb — everything you explain away as the house being old as fuck, but your friends claim it to be the work of spirits — your friends drag you to the church on the hill at the asscrack of dawn.
And that's how you meet Father Johnathan Price. (Insert devil in church joke here)
He listens to your friends explain the situation, calm and collected, but you swear his eyes stay on you the entire time. "That's quite a predicament." Price hums, offering to bless you and your friends in hopes of protecting you from evil spirits.
You're the last to go, nearly jumping out of your skin when he grips your chin. "Relax my boy." Those words frazzle your brain enough for him to easily pull on your jaw until your mouth opens, his thumb almost playing with your bottom lip. The look in his eyes is dark, the air between you far heavier than it should be between you and a bloody priest. But Price doesn't see anything wrong with this, pressing a thumb down on your tongue and then putting a wafer on your tongue. "There you go, you are now blessed in the name of a lord. Now consume it, my boy."
You obey automatically. You're not quite sure if a communion wafer is supposed to taste so... weird, it has a coppery and peppery taste to it. Almost like spicy blood or something but that's just you being stupid again, especially as you can feel heat burning between your legs.
Sufficiently embarrassed about getting hard at a priest you give an awkward goodbye and leave, trying to fix your pants before your friends see your... problem.
Johnny appears by Price's side in a small flicker of flames and brimstone when you leave, confident smirk on his face. "Ooh, couldn't resist claiming a piece of him fer yourself?" He smirks, nudging Price on his side.
"I suppose he is more interesting than the usual rabble." Price hums, already imagining of how handsome you'd look laying naked on the altar, and how to get you to that point.
Congrats! Now you've got 4 hot dudes trying to take your soul :D
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robbie-wallis · 3 days
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I need to vent about Watcher, endure it if you can
Relax, this isn't a parasocial thing, but it is a long ass post, which suits me as a long ass human.
I need an outlet to discuss the terrible business decision Watcher has made by announcing their plan to leave YouTube, and this long-forgotten Tumblr account reached from its grave to grab at my ankle.
If you didn't see their video, good for you. It's extremely cringe-worthy in its sentimentality and editing, with blurry shots, pensive pauses and obligatory sad piano.
But at least there's no f'ing Ukulele.
Although, I think we might get the Ukulele in a few months.
Even though anyone who reads this is probably familiar with what the "Ghoul Boys" have done, I feel as though I need to add a little history.
WATCHER HISTORY
You can skip this part if you've been obsessively following the shenanigans, this is for the noobs who were never a "shaniac" or a "boogara".
Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara used to work at Buzzfeed. They hosted the successful Buzzfeed Unsolved shows. In 2019 they followed in the footsteps of the Try Guys and Safia Nygaaard and left Buzzfeed to create their own YouTube channel named "Watcher".
They brought along Steven Lim, another Buzzfeed person who is most known for the "Worth It" series. This series followed Lim and his friend/s spending obscene amounts of money on obscenely overpriced and indulgent products.
Think of it as being similar to the $100 V's $10,000 Sidemen content, only without the self-awareness and British "bad lads" humor.
Notably, even the Sidemen seem to have cut back on those adventures, perhaps understanding how bad it looks when so many people are struggling to pay their essential bills.
Steven became the CEO of Watcher while Shane and Ryan continued to create and present for the new channel.
They were wildly successful by YouTube standards. At the time of their self-spanking on Friday they were close to achieving 3 million subscribers, in just 4 years, based on basically only 2 cornerstone shows. If Social Blade is still a reasonably trusted source in everything but estimating income, they were gaining thousands of new subscribers every week.
Their most successful shows were Ghost Files, Puppet History, Too Many Spirits and Mystery Files.
Ghost Files is the only one of these shows which requires heavy investment, travel, a large crew and impressive production costs. These videos are shot on-location and require a lot of work. The rest are basically Good Mythical Morning style, just the two hosts and their banter.
Aside from Ghost Files, their content could be created with 3 cameras, 2 lapel mics and a good editor.
They were massively successful, solely because of Ryan and Shane.
THE DEMISE
So, what did they do on Friday 19th April? They decided to announce the launch of their own subscription platform.
Not a Patreon for extra content, behind-the-scenes, audience interaction etc, (they already had a Patreon with 6,000 paying subscribers earning them at least $50k a month), but a bespoke streaming platform which looks like a clone of Netflix.
The cost is $5.99 a month, or $60 a year.
Comparable to Netflix.
And by that I mean the price is comparable to Netflix while the content is comparable to a 4 year old YouTube channel.
Don't get me wrong, their production quality is incredible. The quantity, however, is not.
From the end of May viewers will have to pay to be a subscriber on their own platform in order to watch their shows.
They'll still be posting their trailers on YouTube, and the first episodes of new shows, but to watch it all you'll have to pay up or miss out.
Edited to add: Variety originally reported the Watcher crew were planning to remove all their existing content from YouTube to monetize it on their own platform. It's since been confirmed they will not be removing their old content. Fans are undecided whether this was a back-track after the announcement or a misunderstanding by Variety. You be the judge.
Of course, they're entitled to do this. They are creating a product and you can either enjoy it or not. No one is entitled to see it, for free, whenever they like.
Why did they do this?
Half of the sombre video gushes about their "humble beginnings" as "struggling young guys in a big harsh world", which comes across as extremely self-indulgent and ego-stroking.
A quarter of it explains how insanely successful they've been on YouTube and how this is all thanks to the fans who stuck with them after Buzzfeed, how it's allowed them to hire 25 people, how it's given them the freedom to create what they enjoy making and what the viewers want to see, and - most importantly - how it's allowed them to increase production quality on Ghost Files.
The final quarter of the video explains that this isn't good enough, the quality isn't high enough, the finish not glossy enough, it's not "TV caliber" enough! They want more, they need more, you have to give them more, mostly (apparently) because their CEO Steven Lim wants to bring back his show where he flies around the world with his bestie sipping Champagne and eating gold-leaf-covered lobster.
In short, they want more money to make even bigger things, even though their audience never asked for that.
WHY IT WILL NOT WORK
Oh my goodness, this is going to be a ride so strap in.
I'm not a YouTube creator so there are a lot of things I do not know. Having said that, I know a little about business.
This ain't Buzzfeed, y'all
Watcher became successful because of Ryan and Shane. It was their friendship, their personalities, and the content we loved to watch featuring them at Buzzfeed, that brought us along for the ride.
The audience they poached from Buzzfeed is there for them and Ghost Files. It's not there for Steven Lim and "Worth It". His show worked under the Buzzfeed umbrella only because they had numerous sub-categories in that community to support it.
The Try Guys left and created their own channel from their Buzzfeed fans.
Safia Nygaard left and created her own channel from her Buzzfeed fans.
Shane and Ryan left and created Watcher from their Buzzfeed fans.
Steven Lim left and became the CEO of Watcher. He didn't take his audience with him.
The audience of Watcher is not the audience of "watch me fly around the word with my pal and spend $100K on hand-reared, Whiskey marinaded, diamond-encrusted Kobe steak".
And... IN THIS ECONOMY?
Steven chose to become a CEO instead of a presenter. He's missed the opportunity to take that Buzzfeed audience with him.
This is made clear by the Watcher channel itself. Their "man eats food" content rarely breaks 500K views while their Ghost Files breaks 2 million consistently.
If a million of their viewers followed them from Buzzfeed to Watcher, the other 2 million have joined them since, based almost entirely on their spoopy content.
Not only did they base their channel on this genre and format, they have distilled their audience further ever since the creation of their channel and no matter how hard they try to diversify into "man eats food" it's just not working.
This ain't Netflix, y'all
As mentioned, the $5.99 charge is comparable to Netflix and just about every other streaming platform. Only Watcher can't give you even 5% of what a competing platform can offer for that price.
Other platforms also tailor their content and their pricing based on geographical location and localized economics.
You're paying far less than $5.99 a month if you live in an economy where the median household income is $300 a month. YouTube has a global audience. Their subscribers don't all live in a stable economy where $5.99 is considered disposable income.
We don't know the numbers, but I would guess only 60% of their subscribers are based in the USA, Canada, and the UK.
Even for those who do live in a stable economy, their audience is predominantly young adults and students. Most young adults are currently facing the reality that they will possibly never own their own home, they're living day-to-day trying to budget.
They've instantly priced-out a large % of their audience.
I confidently predict that diehard fans who can't see anything wrong with this will sign up for $5.99 a month, binge watch for a couple of weeks, realize there's no new spoopy content and cancel.
They'll come back when a full season of Ghost Files has arrived, pay again, binge it and leave.
Steven Lim thinks they're gonna get $5.99 a month, every month, from thousands of subscribers. In reality they're going to get maybe $12 a year, from people signing up to binge watch what they want, then leaving.
This will then decline naturally as attention wanes during the months where there is no spoopy.
This ain't good marketing, y'all
They're going to be posting "trailers and season pilots" on YouTube.
Sure, I bet YouTube is gonna be totes okay with a channel doing nothing but trying to hijack traffic for an external site.
Posting nothing but trailers and season premiers will mean maybe one full video per month during busy seasons. That's not enough to remain relevant for the algorithm.
If 80% of those posts are also just trailers saying "leave YouTube and come here", the channel will be smacked down quicker than a crypto scam using an AI generated Elongated Muskrat.
Their channel was growing steadily, but that was with full content regularly posted. When the schedule drops off, and when most of it is considered spammy by YouTube, it's going to collapse like a flan in a cupboard.
A streaming platform needs a constant flow of new subscribers just to replace the gradual drop-off (maybe ask Rooster Teeth about that). When your global audience at YouTube is gone, where are those new subscribers coming from?
The platform is also an additional overhead. It's going to cost thousands a month to keep the servers going.
This ain't good financial management, y'all
I don't know if they've already spent hundreds of thousands of $s on Lim's "men eat food" gamble, but I suspect they have.
I know they have spent hundreds of thousands of $s on a new season of Ghost Files, flying to the UK to host live events while filming those episodes.
This means they've over-extended their finances just at the moment where they've cratered their opportunities to see a return on investment.
Just that, on its own, is enough to destroy a production company.
They do not need 25 employees any more than I need an editor and proof-reader for this long ass post.
They do not need a production studio in Hollywood any more than I needed an office to write this.
They do not need to spend tens of thousands of $s on glossy graphics that appear on screen for maybe 4 seconds in one episode any more than I needed to add screengrabs to this painfully long essay.
By leaving YouTube they've lost:
Adsense revenue (which might not be much on a per-video basis but adds up with a back catalogue over years of productions)
Sponsorship deals, which allegedly contributes almost 50% of their annual revenue.
Merch sales, which is about to crash if the only people they can promote merch to are already paying per month in their smaller ecosystem.
Patreon. Why would someone pay $5.99 twice, for the same or less content?
And they've abandoned all of this for maybe a few thousand people who will probably end up paying just $12 a year when a new spoopy season arrives for them to binge.
I'm no Will Hunting, but no matter how hard I try to make the numbers work they just don't, and I don't need Robin Williams to tell me it's not my fault.
This ain't nice, y'all
Some of you are feeling like Ned's wife right now, and some of you will have no idea what that's in reference to.
Most of you will hate that I made that reference more than you hated the SNL skit.
I get it.
Maybe the worst part about all of his, from a viewer's perspective, is the dismissive nature of their sign-off.
They didn't mention the Patreon members once, not one single time in the whole video. It's like they consider the Patreon "too YouTube". They're the deformed cousin locked in the attic. They're the relative who wasn't invited to the wedding because they can't afford a Tom Ford suit. They're the colleague who isn't invited to the staff night out because they only work in accounting and no one has anything in common with Janice anyway.
These are diehard fans who were actually paying them extra to support them and enjoy a little bonus behind the scenes, and the boys didn't even consider them worthy of an utterance.
They also finished with "If you don't follow us and pay up it's been real, peace out". I'm paraphrasing, but that's basically what it was.
They spent so much of the video saying how awesome and great it was that the fans and YouTube got them to this point, but they didn't thank their Patreon members, and they ended with a blunt suggestion that if you don't follow them and pay more then you're not a real fan anyway and they don't really need you.
"Thanks for getting us here, sucks to be you, bye now!"
You made them wealthy, you helped them hire 25 people, you helped them increase production value to "TV caliber" even though you didn't ask for that, but your job is done and now you're superfluous. Only the real fans are wanted.
In the words of the great George Carlin - "It's a big club, and you ain't in it".
They're okay losing the vast majority of the people who got them here if a few thousand of those are comfortable enough to be able to pay $60 a year for a YouTube channel.
Can it get worse? Sure!
We've had a weekend to enjoy the constant heat of this bonfire and it's predictably worsened with each hour of silence from the company and its employees.
The fact that they haven't back-tracked, despite almost unanimous agreement that this is badder than the baddest thing that could happen to their company, suggests they're okay with it.
Consensus seems to be that they knew it would be this bad, and they're cool. They predicted 90% of people would scream "Boo to you good sirs! Boo indeed!" and they could still survive on the 10% who don't see a problem here.
The lack of response reinforces the narrative that they're totally fine with discarding almost their entire audience if they can just squeeze the cash they need out of whoever is left.
This ain't fixable, y'all (maybe)
Note: I don't want this to be mean, but it's going to sound a little bitchy no matter how I try to say it.
If they'd brought out the Ukulele on Saturday, or even teased Ukulele's on their socials before putting out a video on Sunday, they probably could have survived this with much hand-wringing and a little groveling.
But now I think they've grilled this Kobe steak for far too long.
They've lost 100K subscribers, and counting. The venom among Patreon members is allegedly worse than the public comments section under the video, which is startling. Dozens of YouTubers are torching them harder than a $100 crème brûlée.
People are scraping their channel content in case it's nuked.
Shane "eat the rich" Madej's sentiments over the last few years look disingenuous, to say the least. To shamelessly steal someone else's comment: "Imagine being all 'eat the rich' right before throwing yourself on the plate". He's silent while his McMansion burns down, at his own hands. "Why not!?" indeed.
Steven "I drive a Tesla" Lim's socials now make him look like a tech-bro try-hard and his use of words like "early adopter" and "soft launch" in the video only compound the belief that this was all his brainchild. He is the CEO, and that comes with responsibility and the associated blame. You can't steer the ship into the Bermuda Triangle and then disappear without looking like the bad guy.
Okay, you can disappear, but that convoluted metaphor is a mystery for someone else to solve.
Ryan "TV caliber" Bergara now sounds like an elitist who thinks YouTube is "too pedestrian" for his big plans, not big enough to meet his artistic vision. You see, he's more James Cameron, while YouTube is more like your student film club. He's grown beyond this pesky platform with billions of daily hits offering exponential growth with almost zero financial risk.
Even if they released a video today admitting they messed up big time it's still going to be hard to get the taste of this Ghost Pepper Warhead out of the collective mouth of their viewers.
This hasn't just burned their shared brand, it's singed their individual reputations among an audience upon which their careers rely.
What they should have done, on Saturday, is release a video (Ukulele or no) confessing their error. They should have announced their new platform will instead just be a bigger and better Patreon, with early access to everything, behind-the-scenes content, extra features, audience interaction etc.
They should have reversed to make clear their YouTube channel will stay the priority, their main source of revenue, but that you could get more on their own platform if you want it.
And, maybe, over time, people will pay for that. If they grow their channel to 6 million subscribers in the next 4 years there will be a couple hundred thousand of them willing and able to pay $5.99 a month for 8 years of shows, 8 years of behind the scenes content, 8 years of community involvement and regular early access to new episodes.
Maybe then they could try out their "privileged guys eat expensive food in expensive places" show and see how it does? Maybe a majority of people won't be living on the cusp of poverty by then and it won't look as tone-deaf as a 13 year old YouTuber trying to cover Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah"? Maybe then they could hire another 50 people and make Bergara's "TV caliber" (I still don't know exactly what that means) game shows and reboots?
The clock has been ticking since they hit that "publish" button on their career ending video, but that clock is about to count down to zero and silence will permeate throughout their previously lively community.
That 1980s basement set needed someone crying in the corner, right?
The problem is, their own platform is not a terrible idea. Really, it's not the worst thing they could do. The badness came in the timing, the switch, the middle finger and the f you. They could have released this as an extra, their own Patreon alternative, waited, developed it over time into something sustainable and established.
They could still try to do that and hope this dark chapter is forgotten.
Maybe I'm wrong? Maybe Lim is a financial genius with more skill than the management of Rooster Teeth and their corporate parent company combined? Maybe this gamble will be wildly successful despite all streaming services down-sizing or just going bankrupt? Maybe they won't be back on YouTube in 3-6 months begging for views after having to lay off 20 of their employees?
I know this... if I were one of those 25 employees blind faith would not be enough to stop me from looking for another job.
I suppose this will, for now, remain... a mystery.
EDIT:
I'm not writing another essay about this, but I'm glad to see they've backtracked and made the right choice to use WatcherTV as any sane creator would - to host early access and exclusive content in addition to their YouTube channel.
Over time, while promoting it in every video, building up that trust and fan base, it can be a secure and long-term financial bonus helping them to expand their business incrementally as finances allow.
Why this wasn't the plan all along is anyone's guess. Gambling everything on this was never the sane decision.
I still think they need to scale back on costs. I still think the food content is not currently a viable source of income while being a serious drain on resources. I still think they need to stop hiring all their friends and they need to hire one person who doesn't have personal relationships with everyone there and can make the tough business decisions.
No one likes firing people, it's ten times worse when it's a friend. But this is a reality of business and just wishing it wasn't so isn't going to make it go away. It would be awesome if we could all run a business where we can hire all our friends and family, never have to rely on any outside funding, make whatever we want, make a great living in one of the most expensive cities in the world and continue to grow.
That's just not the reality.
Their apology was genuine, in my opinion. I just hope they can work out the right financial balance.
189 notes · View notes
msgexymunson · 8 hours
Text
The Ink Shop Part 2
Description: After your encounter with Eddie, things are beginning to get a bit more complicated; especially when you ask him for another little favour. But, will Eddie go for it? 
Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI this ain't for you, angst, tiny bit of fluff, smut, fem oral receiving, male masturbation.
A/N: OK when I said this will be in 3 parts I lied, it's totally going to be at least 4, maybe 5! Thank you for the love you've shown the first part, it's incredible! You're superstars. 
❤️ If you like it please comment and reblog, it really makes my day!❤️
7k words 
Masterlist Part 1
For some reason, the shop seems more welcoming today than ever. It might be the fact that the sun is shining, it might be the radio seemingly playing all your favourite songs, or it might be last night. Either way, you feel loose and free, laughing at jokes, smiling at everyone, and genuinely just happier. 
Eddie saunters in thirty minutes late and you barely notice, apart from flashing him a bashful smile. 
“Well hello there sweetheart, you seem chipper today.”
You roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation, but your smile is warm. “I had a good night's sleep, that's all.” 
“Bet you did,” he grins, “you look real pretty.” 
Looking down, you consider your outfit; you'd decided enough of the corporate clothes, this is a tattoo shop after all. So, you'd paired a roll neck sweater with a short jean skirt and sneakers. A more relaxed outfit to go with a more relaxed attitude. Before you can say anything in reply he strolls over to his station. 
Right, so a few jabs, but he's being nonchalant. So put it out of your mind.
The morning moves quickly, a messy blur of clients and phone calls. After a fast lunch, the shop finally calms down a little. When you're focusing on sorting the mess of the heavy bookings tome in front of you, Eddie approaches, mischief glinting in his eyes. 
“I see London, I see France…” 
You follow his bowed head and cross your legs in sheer embarrassment, realising a sliver of your panties must be on display. 
“Eddie!” 
He simply laughs, throwing his head back far enough that your gaze drifts to his Adam's apple. 
“Sorry, I couldn't resist, I'm a big fan of this skirt,” he says, drinking you in with his eyes, “anyway I wanted to ask-” 
His sentence is stopped however by the loud ringing of the old corded phone. You and Eddie share a look, yours begging and his smug. Before you can grab it, he picks up the phone, putting on a ridiculous British accent. 
“Good Afternoon, London Underground Airways, this is your captain speaking- Oh shit Mac- Yeah she's- I know I'm not supposed to answer- Sorry I- Fine, here.” He brandishes the phone at you. 
“Hello? Oh, of course I'll let them know- I understand- It'd be my pleasure- see you soon.” replacing the receiver, you make a note on the pad at your side. 
“What'd he say?” Eddie asks, hovering over you. 
Not giving him the satisfaction of a look, you continue to make your note, however perfunctory it may be. “Mac's going to be a little late, he told me to tell his next client.” 
“He said my name, I heard it. What'd he say?” 
Placing your pen down with a loud click, you turn to him. 
You tell him as you smile smugly. “He told me to hit you for answering the phone.”
If anything, his grin grows broader. “Oh? Go on then princess, I'd hate for you to break the rules.” He turns his face, no doubt expecting a cuff to the back of the head.
Spinning on your stool, you slap him right across the cheek; not with all your strength, but certainly hard enough to remember. Eddie's face is a picture of shock, pink handprint already flushing his cheek. 
But that just makes his smile wider. 
“Harder.” He asks, eyes flashing arousal at you. 
“Eddie!” you shout, pushing him away, but his laugh echoes through the shop. Before he has a chance to continue, a burly biker type walks right in the door. 
“Good afternoon, can I help you?” 
“Yeah, It's Jimmy, I'm here for Mac?” 
“He's running a little late, but he'll be with you as soon as possible. Can I get you a coffee or something while you wait?” 
You can't help but hear a huff from Eddie, but before you can question it he's drawing in his book, entirely oblivious to the outside world. 
At the end of the day, you're tired, but still in fairly high spirits. It's the first time you've seen everyone in the shop at once. There's an edge to the air though, as if an expectation hangs over everyone. 
So… bar?” Mac asks in a defeated tone, although he's smiling. Everyone reacts; Eddie woops, pumping his fist, even the usually reserved Miranda is clapping quietly. You smile and nod, finally understanding what the atmosphere was about. 
As you all enter the dimly lit bar, chatting and laughing, you hear a low huff. 
“What did I do to deserve this?” John is standing behind the bar. An imposing figure, his arms crossed and face surly, but there's a kindness in his eyes. Mac leans straight over and hands him a card.  
“Easy John, I got this,” he chuckles. The card is accepted gratefully, the gruff demeanour lessening with the promise of payment. 
You accept a bottle of beer and slide into a nearby booth, the rest of the group filtering in. Mac walks over, eyes the space next to you, then grabs a stool to sit at the head of the table. It throws you for a minute; surely he knows he can sit there? Before you can tell him so, Eddie waltzes across the room with a tray of tequila shots and all the fixings with a cheeky look in his eyes. He slides right in next to you, tray and all, and places it on the table with exaggerated care. 
“Ladies, gentlemen.” He says, gesturing to the tiny glasses like an old timey butler. There's a succession of groans from the party, but despite this they all grab a shot. All except you. 
“I don't think I-” you begin, but he's waving a hand in the air. 
“Come on, you drink. It's a shot. Never had tequila before?” 
Fixing him with a sharp look, your cheeks begin to redden of their own accord. Eddie smirks and tosses his head back, hiding his eyes with one hand. 
“Shit princess, what did you do at college?” 
“Study.” You say primly, but take a glass tentatively and place it in front of you. 
“Right, so for the new guys…“ Eddie smiles right at you and licks his hand between his thumb and pointer finger. That hint of silver mesmerises you, the ball of his tongue piercing catching the light. It's almost sensual the way he does it, your eyes automatically following the movement of his tongue. “salt right here…” he sprinkles some on the spot he moistened, “then, lick, shoot, suck.” 
In a few fluid movements he licks the salt from his hand, downs the shot, and sticks a wedge of lime in his mouth. As your brain finally engages after that display, the little show that shouldn't have heated your insides up, you follow along, and take your shot with everyone else. It's easier than you would have thought, the lime easing the burn somewhat. 
Eddie squeezes your thigh under the table and whispers low enough for you to hear. 
“Good girl.” 
Shooting daggers with a simple look, he just smirks, leaving his hand on your bare leg as if challenging you. Dimly, you hear the echoes of a conversation in front of you; it's Julio, arguing about good tequila not needing salt and lime, but you're lost in the deep pools of Eddie's chocolate eyes.
For a moment, your body flashes red hot and you regret your choice of the high necked sweater. Tearing your eyes away you look at something, anything, but Eddie. 
The conversation drifts between all manner of subjects and you start to relax, the beer and tequila swimming in your belly loosening your tongue. It's nice, having a chance to chat and giggle with your coworkers in a setting not interrupted by the constant buzzing of tattoo machines. 
Julio and Chloe end up in a full scale argument about the karaoke machine in the corner. Before you're subjected to the horror of having to sing in public, you get up to grab another beer. Perching on a stool by the bar with your purse in hand, you're waiting patiently to be served. 
Eddie strolls over. You see him in your periphery; that confident walk as if he owns the very ground he walks on. Casually he hops up on the stool next to you, making no effort to hide the way he undresses you with his eyes. 
“Quit staring Eddie,” you say testily as you knock the bar with your bank card. 
“Now I can't look at you?” He asks with an amused grin. 
“I said quit staring, not quit looking,” you huff out. 
“What's the difference?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching his nose at you.
You groan, turning on your stool to face him. “You are impossible,” 
He sticks his long tongue out childishly, flashing his piercing at you. 
Thankfully, John's voice cuts through the squabble. “What can I get you?”
“May I have a beer, please?” 
“You certainly may.” John cocks his thumb in your direction, addressing Eddie, “I like this one, she's polite. Don't scare her off.” 
Eddie dramatically holds his chest. “You wound me, sir!” 
Two beers are placed on the bar and John waves your card away. “Don't worry about it, Mac's treating you guys tonight.” 
As you swig your beer, you contemplate for a moment, trying to work out something.
“You're staring, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, as he gulps his drink. 
“I wasn't staring, I was thinking! I know that's a foreign concept to you.” It's catty, you know that, but he just seems to bring it out in you. No one else has annoyed you so much in your life just by… being. 
“That was rude. I thought we were playing nice?” he pouts playfully. 
“Sorry. I- Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure, shoot.” 
Turning to him, you speak what's on your mind. “Why do people get their tongues pierced? No one really sees it. I get like, nose and eyebrow piercings and stuff, but the tongue one I don't understand.” 
Eddie's grin is wide as he bites his bottom lip and stares at you. Well, you couldn't call it a grin. It's a flash of teeth, almost wolfish in its delivery. 
“Oh princess, you are too cute.” 
Staring at him with your brow furrowed, you try to work out what he means, but the longer you take, the more amused he looks. 
“What? What is it?” 
Sighing, he leans closer, the scent of aftershave, cigarettes and man clouding around you. “It's got a purpose, sweetheart.” 
“What, like, kissing?” 
Shaking his head, he looks you up and down. “Kinda. Kissing somewhere… specific.” 
Realisation breaks across your face, followed by a fierce blush that you can feel to the roots of your hair. Laughing, Eddie pulls away a little and takes a mouthful of beer. 
Voice an airy whisper, you lean over to him as you speak. “And girls like that?” 
His laugh is so loud it reverberates around the bar. 
“Yeah, a lot, in my experience.” 
“Oh.”
Well, the thought is there now, and you're pretty sure it won't ever go away, not without some sort of mind bleach. Eddie's head between your legs, his long tongue exploring your sex. The image is burned into the back of your brain, playing on a loop.
“You're looking a little hot there,” he says, as if he can read your thoughts. It's fair to say it wouldn't take a psychic to know what's rattling around your head right now. 
“I'm fine, this sweater is too warm,” you shake out, pressing your thighs together. 
“Liar.” 
Mouth opening and closing like a fish, you finally snap it shut with a crunch. Curiosity is eating away at you, and it's too easy to say what's on your mind after a couple of drinks. 
“Eddie, could you… tell me, what- what it's like?” 
He chuckles lightly and scoots closer to you. “you know I can't, I've not exactly had the pleasure.” 
“I know that, I mean…” 
For a second he just gapes at you. 
“Wait, princess, are you asking me to tell you or… show you?” 
Flustered, you turn away a little. “Sorry that's- that's too much isn't it. It's just you… did such a good job with the, you know, the other thing, I was just curious.” 
Eddie bites his lip, puffing out a little breath. “You know, flattery works with me. I did a good job, huh?” 
“Well, yeah. I can imagine you'd be really good at… that too. I could, owe you a favour?” It's bold, especially from you, but the way he's looking at you, the slight flush to his cheeks, you'd put money on him agreeing. 
Eddie stares at you incredulously. “Wait, you're saying you want me to stick my tongue in the holiest of holes and then you owe me a favour?” 
“Yeah? Like a little… arrangement.” 
He rubs his face with his hand, his voice muffled as he speaks. “I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you.” 
That confuses you for a moment. Surely you were the one who asked him? Hesitantly you reach out and touch soft fingertips to the back of his hand. 
“Please?” 
“Fuck.” He looks around, and turns to you, gazing into your eyes for a moment. 
“Fine. Right now.” 
“Oh I didn't-” 
“Listen, before I change my mind. Meet me out back. I'll tell the guys you're not feeling well and I'm taking you home.” 
Wordlessly, you grab your purse and head to the back door, heart hammering in your ears. It's a little dank out here, with the sound of a dripping pipe and moss covering the cement. Eddie comes out a moment later looking more serious than you've ever seen him. 
“You sure about this?” He asks, searching your eyes. 
‘Yeah, but…” you look around the small yard, gesturing vaguely. 
“Oh. Oh! You thought- oh Christ no, not here. I'm not a complete asshole. Come with me.”
Letting out a relieved breath, you follow him. He walks over to a gate in the fence and opens it, which leads down a narrow alleyway, a little shortcut between yards. That eventually opens up to another road with a couple of apartment blocks. The one he moves towards looks mostly clean, if a bit lifeless, with a creepy looking van parked out the front.
“This way sweetheart,” he says, leading you through the courtyard and to the stairs. 
For a second you stop in sheer surprise. 
“Wait, you live this close and you still manage to be late for work?” 
He chuckles, looking at you over his shoulder. “I have a condition, you know. Chronic tardiness; I'm afraid there's no cure.” 
You bat him on the arm playfully and he grasps your wrist, stopping on the stairs briefly, giving you a look that is wickedness personified. 
“If you're gonna hit me, do it properly.” 
“Eddie!” 
He laughs loud and grabs your hand, holding it in his until he reaches his door. That alone is enough to shut you up. It's warm and rough, and the feeling of his skin on yours, no matter how tiny, sends bolts of sensation through you. 
“Right, here is my castle,” he says as he opens the door and lets you inside. 
Chaos. That's the first word that crosses your mind. It doesn't look dirty, there's just things everywhere. A bookshelf stuffed with books and weird little trinkets placed any which way dominates one wall, and another on the other side with a huge music collection. There's a poky little kitchen with a couple of pots still in the sink, and a big couch with mismatched cushions takes up the remaining space. A tower of board games is precariously leaning next to it, and on the wall over the TV is an honest to goodness sword.
“It's nice,” you say as you walk in, as if you're not mentally organising it in your head. 
“You hate it.” He scoffs, pulling his boots off and dumping them by the door. 
“No, no, it's very… you.” 
“I stand by my previous statement.” He grins at you, clearly indicating he wasn't being entirely serious. 
“This is the bedroom.” He walks over and nudges the door open with his foot. Surprisingly, apart from an open clothes rail, an overflowing laundry hamper, and an enormous bed, there's not much in it. The wallpaper is a pretty purple colour, and looks oddly familiar. 
“Eddie isn't that the same wallpaper-” 
“-As the shop? Yeah. Mac let me have the leftovers. I was broke and this room was fucking pink.” 
You snort out a laugh; the thought of Eddie with a pretty pink bedroom was rather unbelievable.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I can live with purple.” He roots around and grabs a pair of sweats. “Make yourself comfortable, I'm gonna change real quick.” 
Then he walks out into another doorway, you assume the bathroom. The urge to snoop is real, but you resist. It looks like he spends less time here anyway. 
The question is, how comfortable are you supposed to make yourself? Nerves start settling in, the thought of what you've asked him to do is finally sinking its way into your mind and down your jangling spine. What if he doesn't like the underwear you're wearing? God, you've been at work all day, what if you smell bad? Or taste bad? What if- 
“You can sit down, princess.” 
Eddie saunters back in, shirtless, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging so low on his hips you see his cut groin. A little squeak hiccups out of your throat at the sight. You stay standing, ready to make your excuses and leave, but the signal hasn't reached your legs just yet. 
“What's wrong?” his eyes are brimming with concern as he steps toward you. 
“No I- I was- maybe this-” 
“Hey, look at me,” he says, grabbing both of your hands. You stare up at him, his face gentle. 
“Whatever you're worried about, I'm sure it's nothing.” 
“But i haven't showered-” 
“When did you last?” 
“Well… this morning.” 
“You're fine. Trust me.” 
He backs you up onto the bed, your knees folding as you flop down. The air around you feels full, humid with anticipation. He's so close, your bodies almost pressed together. 
“I wanna kiss you.” He says softly, stroking a lock of your hair out of your face. Heart leaping into your throat, you try to suppress the urge to lean forward. The last thing you need is to fall for this man. Chloe's words echo in your head; he's not boyfriend material.
He'll break your heart. 
“That's not part of our deal, Eddie.” 
A frown flickers across his face. It's just for a second, a flash of vulnerability, before his usual cocky smile returns. 
“That's not where I wanna kiss you.” He winks and tugs at your top, “can I take this off?” 
Nodding wordlessly, you help him and wriggle it up and over your head. 
“God damn.” Eddie props up on an elbow, running a finger between your breasts, before following the edge of your black cotton bra. 
He looks up at your face, grinning wide, and points at your neck; little purple marks adorn it. “That why you wore that sweater today?” 
Flushing crimson, you run fingers across your neck. 
“Yeah, you marked me Eddie. Not exactly discreet.” 
He chuckles, stroking the side of your neck. “Sorry sweetheart, I won't do it again. Well, not anywhere that anyone can see.” 
Heat floods your stomach, the stark realisation that you want him to mark you clings to your insides. If he notices your reaction he doesn't say, instead he leans toward you pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 
“You're really pretty. I don't know if I said that before.” 
Awash with a new heat in your cheeks, you smile bashfully. “Thanks, I don't get told that very much.” 
Staring at you, he shakes his head.
“You should. You should be told every fucking day.” 
You open your mouth, but before you can reply he kisses your jaw, running his tongue down your neck, before he presses his mouth to the top of your breast, sucking roughly. A gasp flies out, and your hand makes a decision entirely on its own to grab his hair. 
It seems it was the right thing to do, judging by the deep groan that comes from him. It seems to spur him on, and he yanks the cup of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. His tongue teases it, rubbing his piercing over the pebbled nub.
“Oh Holy fuck!” Back arching with the foreign sensation, you revel in it, wriggling underneath him. He smirks against your skin, and takes your nipple between his teeth. Moaning loudly, you pull his hair. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” He looks up at you, pupils blown to black, “can’t hold back if you do that.” 
It's not a dare, but it tastes like one, and before you can think you're tugging at it again. Eddie's eyes roll back, and a hard look crosses underneath his eyes. 
His actions turn a little feral, pulling you up so he can unhook your bra, practically ripping it off you before his mouth is all over your chest, firm fingers digging into the flesh of your hip. 
“Fuck, Eddie” you stutter it out, voice laced with need. 
“Yeah?” He whispers out breathlessly between urgent kisses, making his way down your stomach. Suddenly he takes the flesh of your hip in his mouth and bites down little before sucking a bruise as you writhe under him. 
He reaches your skirt, hooking fingers into the waistband as he looks up at you, his tone urgent. “Can I?” 
As you nod frantically, he reacts immediately, yanking it down along with your underwear. 
“Fuck, look at you.” 
The urge to close your legs is real, embarrassed at the way he's ogling you right between your thighs. They quiver with tension, but Eddie forces them open with his large palms. 
“Don't hide from me. You still want this?” 
You nod, and his head snaps up to look at you. His voice is hard, swirling around your insides with an intensity you're not used to from him. 
“Say it. You need to say it.” 
‘Yes, please Eddie.” 
That satisfies him. He leans forward, breath ghosting over your clit. You're waiting for his mouth, his tongue, but that's not what happens. He inhales you, nose so close it's almost touching your sex. 
“Jesus Christ, you smell so fucking good.” 
“Eddie!” you cry it out, cringing at his words as you bury your face in your hands. 
“Relax princess, it's a compliment.” 
Before you can retort that it's not a compliment, it's weird, and he's a freak for saying it, it no longer matters. He's licking a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, long tongue pushing against you hard in an animal-like gesture. 
The noise that expels from your chest is inhuman, a choked, guttural breath that belongs in a cave somewhere, not a bedroom. 
He doesn't relent, his mouth exploring every inch of you with a ferality that has you tingling all the way to your toes. His fierce movements, accentuated by the bump of his piercing, have you nearly leaving the mattress. You're not sure if you're trying to get more, or move away. Not that it matters. His hands are holding you so firmly that all you can do is wriggle helplessly like a fish on a line. 
Fingers trace the outside of your entrance before they slide in, beckoning your release. Whimpering, you grasp the bedsheets in a need to keep contact with something real. 
“Talk to me,” he says between mind numbing messy kisses to your clit, “good, yeah?” 
“Eddie, f-fuck, its incredible, please, oh God, k-keep going!” 
You can practically feel the smirk on his face as he dives back in, suckling at your clit with an unmatched fervour, his tongue piercing flicking expertly as he does so. Suddenly, you're not creeping toward your release, you're being hurtled toward it, thrown into the depths of absolute pleasure. 
Hands finding their way into Eddie's hair again, you hold on tight, buckling up for the ride. It's almost violent the way he pulls your climax from you, and you scream loudly, almost folding in half before you fall back onto the bed. 
Eddie sits up, hands placed on your thighs, as he grins proudly, face shining with your slick. 
“You OK princess?” 
OK doesn't seem to cover it. You're panting wildly, each breath shallow and ragged, brain melted into soup. 
“Think you can go again?” 
That gets your attention. You sit up, gaping at him. “Again?” 
Chuckling, he runs a finger up your slit and circles your clit in a teasing manner. The slight touch has your thighs trembling. 
“I think you've got at least one more in you.” 
Without a further word he presses his tongue against you. On instinct you grip his hair once more, bucking your hips up. 
“Fuck, that's it sweetheart, ride my face.” 
This time he slips his tongue inside as his nose nudges at your clit, the thick muscle curling and writhing. Holding on tight, your hips know what to do, your body reacting and rolling to meet him. 
You're yanking his hair hard as you grind against his face, pulling deep grunts and moans from him which vibrate inside of you. It feels primal, sheer need clouding your mind, a fog that rolls into every limb and leaves no part untouched. 
“Eddie, fuck!” You moan loudly as your walls clench around his tongue, another climax bubbling its way to the surface. He doubles down with his efforts almost as if he needs this as much as you do. 
With one final thrust of his tongue you whine out your orgasm, back finally touching the bed once more. There are no thoughts, only your heavy breath and beating heart keeping you in the moment. 
After a few seconds that seem to stretch on for a year, he hovers over your face. He's wiped off your release, but nothing could wipe that smug grin. 
“So? Good?” 
It's not like he doesn't know. You pat blindly at his arm, words stuck in a puddle on your tongue. In an unexpected tender gesture, he swipes his thumb over your chin, his gaze pensive. You stare back, fingers reaching out to gently touch his cheek. 
“Are you going to kiss me?” You whisper, the words pooling from you unbidden. 
For a split second you think he's going to lean in and close the gap, but he flashes his teeth at you and flicks the tip of your nose. 
“That's not part of the deal.” 
Disappointment leaks into your stomach. Which is entirely unfair. He's using your words after all. Fighting the feeling, you force a smile. 
“I think I'll need a wheelchair to get home.” You chuckle, indicating to your still twitching legs. 
“Stay here. I'll take the couch.” 
“Oh, no, Eddie, I couldn't kick you out of your own bed thats-” 
“Hey, it's fine, honestly. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it.” He shrugs and rolls off the bed and onto his feet in one quick movement like a cat. “Here. If you want something to sleep in.” He hands you a faded t-shirt. Hesitating for a moment, your hand hovers over it, but he stuffs it into your grip. 
“Honestly, it's fine. I can drop you home before work so you can get changed and stuff. No big deal.” 
“What about your chronic tardiness?” You joke, smiling softly at him. 
“You're here, I'm sure you'll whip me into shape.” 
“You'd probably like that,” you tease. 
“More than you know.” He winks again, and walks to the doorway. “Night, princess.” 
“Night Eddie.” 
When he's gone you shrug the shirt on. It's clean, but there's an undercurrent of pure Eddie still there that's more comforting than you'll care to admit. Then, you lay there, staring at the ceiling. 
Well. You certainly weren't expecting to end up in Eddie's room, in his bed, but here you are. You're not sure what this all means just yet and processing it is just hurting your brain. A part of you is saying that you should get out now whilst you can. Another, louder part is telling you this is where you should be. The only problem: is this message coming from your heart, or much lower down? 
Chloe drifts into your mind whilst you lay there. Did they hook up in this bed? Are you in the same place she was? And how did that end? Clearly it was on good terms, considering how friendly they are, but how many girls have been where you are right now? A few? A dozen? A hundred?
After a while your thoughts just start to ache, leaving a migraine behind your eyes. Shifting on the bed, you try to get comfortable, but it's no use. You wonder if Eddie is still awake. After all, he's the only one that can answer your questions. 
Sitting up a little, you listen intently for any signs of life from the next room, but no matter how hard you strain your ears, you can't hear anything. 
As you quietly get up and creep to the door, you press your ear to it. Maybe that was a word you heard, a loud breath, or the signs of an overactive imagination. Turning the doorknob like a safecracker, you inch the door open ever so slightly to peek beyond. 
There he is, laying on the couch, eyes tight shut and face contorted in concentration. Odd. You slowly guide the door open a little more and your eyes nearly bug out of your head. 
Eddie's laying there, hand down his sweats, tugging at himself like there's no tomorrow.
You almost cry out in shock but manage to swallow the noise just in time. For what feels like a full minute you stand and stare, mouth gaping open. It's like you're hypnotised, unable to tear away from his urgent movements. 
A particularly good stroke has him bucking into his hand, and he lets out this strained whimper that shoots directly between your legs. 
Right, stop. This is wrong. How would you feel if he caught you? …OK, bad example. 
Reluctantly, you close the door again as quietly as you can before climbing back into his bed to stare at the ceiling once more. 
It looks like it's going to be a long night. 
********************
“You look really great,” Chloe says as she strolls into the shop, handing you a coffee, “like, happier, more relaxed.” 
It's a few days after your impromptu sleepover at Eddie's place, and she's absolutely right. You do look more relaxed, even you've noticed the change. There's more confidence in you, and a smile that was once a little forced is warm and genuine. 
“Thanks, I think I'm getting more comfortable here.” It's not a lie, exactly, but it's certainly not the whole truth. 
“Good, glad to hear it!” She beams at you and heads to her table. 
The bell over the door chimes once again startling you. Miranda and Mac are already here and it couldn't possibly be Eddie this early. 
“Um… Hi.” A gangly youth walks in, all arms and legs and bright blonde hair. He shuffles over to the counter awkwardly. 
“Morning, can I help you?” 
“Y-yeah, you do walk-ins today, right?” He asks, brandishing a crumpled flyer at you. 
Face lighting up, you fix your best smile. 
“Why yes we do, it's walk-in Wednesday. It's a little early though. Can I see some ID? 
He hands it over. The guy's freshly 21 and knows it, puffing out his little pigeon chest with pride. 
“Excellent. It's about 10 minutes until we open, but Miranda will be with you. Miranda, you got a book for this guy?” 
Confusion paints Mirandas's face, but then she smiles. 
“A walk in? Wow.” She strolls over and hands him her portfolio of designs, introducing herself. 
When Eddie finally turns up, there's another guy waiting. 
“You're not my 10:30.” 
The poor boy looks at him nervously like he did something wrong. 
“Eddie, he's a walk-in.” Mac says, calling over his shoulder. 
Eddie smirks at you and leans over the counter. 
“Well well, bet you're happy. Atta girl.” 
Blushing profusely, you move to tap him on the arm in warning, but he grabs your hand and kisses it. Heat flies straight to your belly at the gesture.
“Let me know when my 10:30 is here, alright sweetheart?” 
He's still holding your hand, brushing his fingers over your knuckles. Weakly you nod, gazing at him as your toes curl in your shoes. 
Shooting you a wink, he ambles over to his station as you watch him, eyes drawn to the way he moves. 
There's three more clients asking about Wednesdays; granted, one didn't have an ID, but the other two were seen and inked, and one even booked a follow up with Miranda. 
Buzzing with job satisfaction, you're grinning when you nip to the restroom, walking through the narrow corridor. As you exit, you're immediately accosted by Eddie. He stands close, a hand loosely holding your wrist to keep you there as he bends to whisper in your ear. 
“Now, you're not supposed to touch fine art, but someone's gotta pin you against the wall and nail you right.” 
“Eddie!” You whisper shout at him, only serving to make him chuckle low in his throat. 
“Sorry, couldn't resist. I have an idea, for that favour you owe me?” 
Body tensing of its own accord, you look up at him, your cheeks flushed and mouth slightly parted. Before you can ask what it is, a voice cuts through the tension. 
“Hey, keep it at home guys.” 
Mac's standing at the other end of the corridor with his arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Pursing your lips, you wriggle from Eddie's grip. 
“It's not what it looks like Mac, I promise.” You say, shouldering past Eddie. 
“Come on sweetheart, don't get all shy on me now!” He shouts, walking after you.
You ignore him, giving Mac an apologetic look, and sit back down at the counter. God, that was embarrassing. Seems like professional and discreet are out the window. 
“So, as I was saying-” 
“Eddie, stop, not now.” you say, cheeks bright red. 
“I was only-” 
“Eddie please! I don't want to get into trouble!” 
Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, but backs off finally. 
You make a very clear point of being busy until the rest of the day, completing any ad hoc tasks you can think of. Tidying the stock cupboards, refreshing the consent sheets, and even organising the sparse counter. Anything to avoid further comment from Mac. 
When six rolls around you turn to talk to Eddie, but he's already leaving without a glance at you. 
Sighing, you make your way outside and home, trying to ignore the little sting in your chest. 
********************
It's Saturday before you see him again. Your day off was mostly spent worrying about how you upset him and thinking about everything you could have done differently. 
By the morning you're an emotional wreck, anxiety having done her job and left you a bubbling mass of maybes. When Eddie storms in the shop with a proverbial rain cloud over his head your heart pangs in your chest. 
He's such a big character, and you didn't realise until now the influence this has on this place. Usually he's energetic and upbeat; however, with this melancholy energy coming from him, everyone seems to stoop a little more, eyes a touch downcast, movements more shuffled and broken. It's like a black hole has descended on the shop, pulling joy from your soul and sucking everything into its gravity.
The tattoo shop is quiet for a Saturday. Not from lack of customers; it's just a more hushed and sullen atmosphere. By the afternoon you decide enough is enough and you grab Eddie's arm between clients.
“Eddie, can I talk to you?” 
He gets up, stretching his back in a feline movement, and walks with you slowly to the stockroom. 
“Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened on Wednesday, I didn't want to upset you and I can't stand seeing you like this and-” 
“Woah, sweetheart, slow down. You been worrying? About me?” He tilts his head, giving you a small lopsided smile. 
“Yeah? I thought you were mad at me.” You mumble out. 
“Oh, princess, come here.” He wraps you in his arms, holding your head close to his chest. A relieved breath puffs from your chest as you melt into the hug. 
“That's not what I'm upset about, I promise.” 
You pull from the embrace to look at him, a hopeful smile tugging at your lips. 
“Really?” 
Stroking your cheek softly, he presses his lips together. “You're adorable,” he moves his hand away and starts waving his arm about as he tells you what's wrong. 
“You know I'm in a band? Well we've got this regular gig at Hatters, which is great and all, but I found out they're looking for more bands at The Pit. That big rock club on Main? I've been trying to get hold of the damn owner but he's ignoring all my calls and I'm pissed off.” 
Grinning, you grab his arm. “Eddie, I can totally help you with that.” 
His gaze is soft and warm as he asks “Really? You'd do that for me?” 
“Of course I would. You got their number?” 
He digs around in his pocket and passes you a wedge of shiny paper. Unfolding it, you look at the details, smiling even wider when you see they're attempting a ladies night. There's a telephone number at the bottom, the contact listed as William. 
“I gotta idea. Just roll with it, OK?” 
He looks confused but nods at you. Skipping to the counter, you pick up the phone and dial the number. When it's answered by a young woman, you speak with a nasal voice, sounding almost bored. 
“Is Bill there?- Tell him it's Barb- oh trust me he's gonna wanna take this call honey.” 
Eddie's staring at you with an amused expression; you look back at him, flashing a smile while you wait. 
“Bill! How long has it been! Oh, don't say you don't remember me… oh, you do!- I'm good, I'm good- I'm managing this band, yeah, you've gotta book them- Corroded Coffin- yeah, yeah- They are hot right now, selling out their shows- look I know you're struggling getting the ladies in, but that's about to change. Their lead singer is-  well lemme tell you, if I were a younger woman- haha yes, sounds great! Next Saturday?- Nine- Great stuff- I'll speak to you soon.” 
Placing the phone down with a little click, you cross your legs and look at Eddie smugly. 
His jaw may as well be on the floor, eyebrows so high that he resembles a cartoon character. 
“Barb? Selling out their shows? If I were a younger woman? Where the fuck did that come from?” 
You giggle, “I thought he'd listen if he thought I was a business connection. I took a shot, a little bullshit can take you far.” 
He swoops over to you and grabs you in his arms, lifting you bodily from your seat and swinging you around as you squeal helplessly. 
“Saturday? Not even midweek? Princess I owe you big time.” 
“Eddie I already owe-” 
He's not listening, running over to Mac and bouncing on the spot like a child. “Mac, Mac, did you hear? I'm playing at The Pit!!” 
You watch as he explains what just happened; he's so animated, gesticulating wildly as loose locks of hair fly from his bun. Mac beams at him and hugs him in a fatherly motion before Eddie springs back over to you. 
“Who the fuck is Barb?”
“I dunno, she sounded worldly.” 
He grins, shaking his head, “I can't believe you lied for me. You seem… different lately. More confident. It suits you.” 
Blushing, you thank him. For a second you stare at each other, both lost in the other. 
Eddie shakes his head, and looks at the time. 
“Fuck, right, I got 20 minutes, I'll be back!” He grabs his coat and runs out of the shop shouting “personal errand!” 
Chuckling, you sit back down at the counter. Mac approaches, smiling softly. 
“You did good Miss, he's really happy.” 
“Thanks, I couldn't bear the sulking.” 
He laughs and touches your shoulder, “he cares about you. In case you didn't notice.” 
He walks away nonchalantly as if he didn't just drop a bomb at your feet. Eddie cares about you? You're still pondering it when he returns a half hour later looking sweaty and dishevelled. 
“Princess, I got you a present,” he whispers, brandishing a nondescript black bag at you. You peek inside and shut it immediately. 
“Eddie what the fuck!” You whisper, face flooding with blood at the sight as you hide it under the counter. There's a sex toy in the bag, well at least one, but you were so shocked at the sight you didn't get a good look. 
He chuckles and leans in close. “Thought you'd like it.” 
“Eddie I don't know how to- to use this stuff,” you mumble quietly, looking around to make sure no one's listening. 
He smirks at you in response.
“You free tonight? I can show you.” 
Taglist
@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes @tlclick73 @reidsgubbler @siriuslysmoking @keanureevessmile @fhsbsvy @yourdailymemedelivery @aurora-austen @rach5ive @honey-teaaaaaaaa @nina211544 @bbabycass @cactusangie @skrzydlak @took-me-hours-to-steal-those @hereforshmut @nabiiturner @darlingbravebelle @freak-of-hawkins @randomworker @serenadingtigers @1paire2vans @sapphire4082 @xmasterofmunsonx @steamystrangerfics @vol2eddie @storiesbyrhi
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spacy-snail · 2 days
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Don’t get me wrong, I completely understand people wanting to go back to how everything was before this debacle
But I can’t in good faith ever look at these guys the same way again. It doesn’t matter who’s decision it was, or why they did it, all three of them sat on that couch and were full send ready to leave their community behind to make some more money
I’ve been around since the Unsolved days and I was so excited to help them build up this new channel that was all theirs, free of the control of Buzzfeed, and them not even taking 5 seconds to think of how that community would feel leaving them behind for a payed service would feel tells me everything I need to know about them
So many people have been saying it, but it bares repeating, they had SO many other options to fix their financials. Downsizing, moving out of LA, not doing Worth It, not going international with Ghost Files, fucking promoting their Patreon. And from all of the analyzing from those who know what they’re talking about, it doesn’t sound like they were hurting for cash it all, it sounds like they don’t want to give up the lifestyles they currently have, want to do more, and were willing to throw their community under the bus to do it
I think what really sold it to me that the guys in the “Goodbye YouTube” were the real version of these guys and not the “We’re Sorry” video was the fact that in the small amount of time they had, they still had time to bemoan about how they were doing it so they wouldn’t have to “bow to the whims of the advertisers” and “oh well now we can’t pay our staff a good wage but if this is what you want :/“
Like yeah, they apologized, but they still double down that they were doing it for “the right reasons”
I’ve been around on YouTube long enough where I feel like I can tell when people are actively having to bend their backs to appeal to the almighty algorithm and advertisers, and Watcher is not one of those channels. They have NEVER made a comment about having issues with the platform before this, they have never done anything to ask for extra support, or help, or even plugging their fucking Patreon
I still want to watch their content, I still think they’re funny and I still think their shows are creative and entertaining, but it’s going to be a long while before the bad taste in my mouth from this decision goes away
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tanadrin · 1 day
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so if i am understanding this correctly, the argument is that round about 2019 somebody decided the best way to measure how well google search was doing was by absolute number of queries, and a lot of subsequent changes were made to google that were aimed at increasing that number. which had the effect of making google search suck more, because that meant people had to work harder to find stuff, which increased the amount of absolute searches people were doing. because, you know. it was harder to find stuff.
A day later, Gomes emailed Fox and Thakur an email he intended to send to Raghavan. He led by saying he was “annoyed both personally and on behalf of the search team.” in a long email, he explained how one might increase engagement with Google Search, but specifically added that they could “increase queries quite easily in the short term in user negative ways,” like turning off spell correction, turning off ranking improvements, or placing refinements — effectively labels — all over the page, adding that it was “possible that there are trade offs here between different kinds of user negativity caused by engagement hacking,” and that he was “deeply deeply uncomfortable with this.” He also added that this was the reason he didn’t believe that queries were a good metric to measure search and that the best defense about the weakness of queries was to create “compelling user experiences that make users want to come back.” In the March 2019 core update to search, which happened about a week before the end of the code yellow, was expected to be “one of the largest updates to search in a very long time. Yet when it launched, many found that the update mostly rolled back changes, and traffic was increasing to sites that had previously been suppressed by Google Search’s “Penguin” update from 2012 that specifically targeted spammy search results, as well as those hit by an update from an August 1, 2018, a few months after Gomes became Head of Search. While I’m guessing, the timing of the March 2019 core update, along with the traffic increases to previously-suppressed sites, heavily suggests that Google’s response to the Code Yellow was to roll back changes that were made to maintain the quality of search results.
which seems like a pretty plausible, if stupid, way to fuck up your product!
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cold-kitty · 3 days
Note
Hello! Can we please get more Yan!Naga? Maybe after reader is healed and reader is trying to leave?
Dear lord I'm praying for you.
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Contains: kidnapping, abuse (just really really bad), terror, regret, angsty(?), non-human yandere.
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Yan!Naga who expected it honestly. he knew you were scared of him, so he saw it coming.
Yan!Naga who prepared for this, he had a whole plan ready. he gave you a double dosage of affection after it, trying to give you every reason to stay.
but... you try again?
Yan!Naga who is heartbroken. he doesn't know what to do. i did everything right! everything and he still doesn't love me... *sniffle*
Yan!Naga who definitely cries. like, bawling and sobbing. he knows he can't waste time getting to you, but it's so hard to get up for him.
Yan!Naga who lugs himself off the bed - still sniffling - and bursts out of the cabin.
Yan!Naga who doesn't find you as quickly as the first time, but he does nonetheless.
Yan!Naga who tackles you, full on body slamming you into the ground and knocking the air out of your lungs.
Yan!Naga who buries his face into your stomach, crying. why!? i'm really trying, really really trying! *wailing*
Yan!Naga whose heart only breaks more as you try to pull away, and he knows he has to do something.
you couldn't move when you were injured, you had to stay. you had to.
Yan!Naga who cries as he moves down your body, his tail keeping you tight in place. i'm sorry! i'm so sorry but i need to do this, i need you to stay!
Yan!Naga who grabs your ankle, cradling it like a baby. but that doesn't last long before-
CRUNCH
oh. oh no no no no no no no no no no no no no that was worse than it was supposed to be...
Yan!Naga who wails, his body shaking. he looks so heartbroken, so disgustingly desperate.
Yan!Naga who purposely had his tail in your mouth, muffling your scream.
Yan!Naga who only meant to twist your ankle, not to have a bone sticking out of your leg. i-i can fix it! please, PLEASE DON'T HATE ME!
Yan!Naga who keeps you silenced, letting you bite down on his tail as hard as you want to help with the pain. he can't even look at you right now he's so ashamed.
Yan!Naga who picks you up as gently as he possibly can, cradling you like stardust. he moves as fast as he can to get to the cabin, still sobbing his heart out.
Yan!Naga who handles the wound well, and it heals pretty good for such a thing.
Yan!Naga who had refused to go around you unless needed, ashamed.
Yan!Naga who dislikes the way you stare at him from them on, pure terror.
Yan!Naga who really tries to make things normal again - and almost succeeds - but there's always something, an underlying something that was different.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Naga is a crybaby, but this time it was reasonable. And I know what you're thinking, "how does he do that instead of twisting your ankle? he meant to!" non-human. he doesn't understand exactly how brittle your bones are.
~🐈‍⬛
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websterss · 3 days
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐓 𝟏/? — 𝐀𝐙𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Even the healthiest flowers wilt one day. It’s nature's way of teaching us that nothing lasts forever. Azriel learns that the hard way.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): some fluff, no angst yet
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6,107
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Azriel x fem!Reader
𝐀/𝐍: I use any excuse to use flowers in fics lol. I hope you enjoy it!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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Azriel wasn’t sure what the Mother was trying to tell him this year round. It was confusing. One minute he’d think he was feeling the bond snap in place, then the next, he was left watching his family display their love for each other in front of him. He had half the mind this year to even consider the possibility of meeting his mate, but he was still so sure that it was Elain till the end. Guided blindly by the three brothers', and three sisters' fate. It's too coincidental to not be true. It was his very own motivation to keep going on with his life. Though it wasn’t his sole purpose in life, his reason to breathe. He was more enraptured by the idea of wanting love in his life than actually trying to see love wasn’t something to be defined, it was something not to take lightly, nor for granted. He wanted it though, so why wouldn’t the Mother grant him his heart's sole wish?
He could have enjoyed spending the day in the markets, he never denied a stroll through the city, but the day appeared to be one that wasn’t going to be a happy occurrence. The one thing he refused to be for Elain’s birthday was angry and annoyed, but Rhysand had other plans for him, and it seemed his shadows were out of his control today. Zipping past shoppers and merchants. He’s had to pull them back five times now after they knocked a sack of fruit from a woman’s hands, almost ruining a stand, and dropped a child's ice cream.
“You know…It wouldn’t kill you to smile now and then. Just a slight upward curl to the corners of your mouth and you’ll be set.” Azriel snaps out of his troubled thoughts. A moment's worth of a distraction was enough for his walls to stay down long enough for Rhysand to sympathize with the Shadowsinger and his thoughts.
Azriel didn’t look at Rhysand as he replied with little care. “I have no reason to.” Azriel did smile, when wanted to of course, when his family butted heads, when they made a joke he found amusing. When a pretty female would glance his way. It was rarely suited to see one on his face in public but it wasn’t uncommon. You just had to simply be close to him and let him get comfortable around you. But today, he couldn’t keep his eye from twitching every few seconds. It was frustrating and he didn’t understand what was wrong with him. With his shadows. Azriel grits his teeth attempting to recall his shadows once more. “I have no reason to today, Rhysand.” He huffs as his shadows recoil back into him.
The peculiar entities seemed to grow in their frequency, moving around people more erratically than before. He just makes out a few words from their whispers in his ear too. Something about she's coming, she's here. Was that a warning or just part of his imagination? With the shadows distracting him more than usual, he almost didn’t hear Rhysand.
"Rhysand, ouch!" He chuckled, placing a hand over his heart in feigned hurt. “Smile.” Azriel turned to him realizing he was starting to lose it for real this time.
“What on earth for?” He furrowed his brows at him.
“You're scaring my inhabitants." He gestures to the child who is still clinging to his mother. The adolescent sparing glances at him. A few passersby walk past the High Lord and Spymaster with haste. A few of the elderly stare with caution. "You okay there Az, your walls have been a little unguarded today. I haven’t had to use that amount of effort to try to get inside that head of yours.” Rhysand's boisterous laughter fills his ears. Azriel slaps away his hand that palms his scalp, messing up his hair. He staggers to the far side of the cobblestone streets as he pushes himself away. Rhysand only continued to laugh as Azriel threw him a glare and straightened himself out. The streets of Velaris were busy and crowded this afternoon much to his joy. His shadows didn’t find it bothersome as they continued to torment the people of Velaris.
Azriel cursed under his breath as he noticed his shadows continuing to go astray. This had been unusual behavior for them and he still couldn’t figure out the reason for the sudden change. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat and scoped the busy market. Why? Why can’t I just relax for a minute on my day off? Why can’t these shadows just relax? What am I missing?
“Yeah, whatever…stay out of my head.” He grumbles as he lets his eyes wander around the market stands and shops. He was about to give Rhysand his full attention when he double takes. He straightens up when he narrows in on the littlest of his shadows dashing around a corner in a hurry. He tried pulling it back but it ignored his recall. The little whisp liked to ignore him any chance it was free.
Go get him. He thought to them. Watching as two bigger forms zoomed forward, carefully dodging and weaving through various bodies with ease and practiced skill after the small whisp of black. Once they catch up to it they’ll be able to merge him into them and bring him back, but no matter how much Azriel tries to keep the whisp at bay, he always gets out from the depths of his bigger shadows. He didn't miss the surprised yelps and curses of the citizens as the small whisp wreaked more havoc.
“Yeah, whatever.” Rhysand mocks him. “Quit sulking about your lonesome life and help me pick out a gift for Elain.” Rhysand stops at one stand and picks up a necklace, a flower pendant shining gold-like in the sunlight. A soft green tint was barely there but noticeable. He inspects it closer and then turns his attention to the grumpy bat, who is doing just about everything but providing his assistance to the High Lord. “You’re not even listening you useless male…Just this please.” He sighs and gives the merchant a few coins for the fee. The lady takes the piece of jewelry off his hands and wraps it into a pretty red velvet pouch. He bids her goodbye with a smile and walks back over to berate the male watching his six, surveilling the market as if danger lurks and waits in the shadows.
As High Lord, Rhysand was quite the male to keep a calm composure in public, but today wasn’t that day, so he didn’t care if the smack he landed on Azriel’s headside looked ridiculous to others.
“What the hell Rhys?” Azriel gapes at him as if he’d grown two heads. He groans as he grips at his ear. “I would never have agreed to join you had I known this is what would await me!”
“I’d say sorry but I wouldn’t mean it. Bought your gift. You’re welcome.” Rhys shoved the velvet pouch into his chest. Azriel barely caught it in time in question. Brows pinched together.
“My gift? But I already bought Elain a gift…What would I need another for? You said we were coming here to buy your gift for her.”
“About that…” Rhysand hissed.
“Rhys…” Azriel’s eyes darkened.
“I took your gift.” Azriel was met with a shit-eating grin.
“No, you didn’t…” His voice lowered.
“I did. Nice job on the custom rose pendant, quite the sentimental touch with the soft brush of pink on the E. She’ll love it.”
“You didn't...Give it back.” He growled.
“No.” Rhysand started walking away down the streets. More shops caught his eye.
“Rhys I’m serious!” Azriel walked after him, his hand reaching out and clutching his brother's shoulder. His grip tightened. Rhysand raised a brow eye at the hand creasing his jacket. Azriel huffed and let go. “Why the hell would you take it? I bought it for her.”
“And I’ll pay you back the fee.”
“No, I don’t want you to pay me back. I want you to give it back. Now!”
“You don’t like the necklace then? Fine, we can find something else if you’re not satisfied with it. Perhaps a new scent, or arrangement. How about a vase?”
“Rhysand—“
“Oh, why you little—look what you’ve done!” Rhys and Azriel stop and look at one another then hurry off toward the sound of the woman in distraught. When they rounded the corner they were met with flower pots scattered amongst the cobblestones. The dirt and flowers itself spread out and ruined. The pots were in pieces. When they approached, Azriel’s little whisp was floating in the air, above the mess. His eyes widened. Of the two shadows he sent after it, one was holding a broom trying to salvage the dirt and clean the mess up and the other was trying to absorb the little blob like a parent pulling and trying to scold its child. It wasn’t like anything Azriel had ever seen in all his years of life. He remained still not knowing what to do as he and Rhys balked at the scenery before them.
“Those flowers were the last of its bunch, I’ll have to wait until next year for them to bloom in season!” She sighed, disheartened at the thought of the flowers being flattened and their petals falling off. She bent down to retrieve a piece of the broken pot. Collecting the ceramics one by one.
Azriel wasn’t sure how to react. He was baffled by the wisp’s sudden behavior. This was never something his shadows did. He couldn’t make sense of it. Why are they misbehaving? Why can't they listen? Why was it till now they began to take on their own decisions, out of nowhere? He was confused by the whole scene that presented itself and he was even more shocked that he just stood there. No wonder the woman had lost her cool about it. It was just one disaster after another.
His shadows never behaved like this. He had no idea what to do with them. They were always calm and collected. But today they had been all over the shops, the tiny terror most of all. He watched his wisp floating above the mess trying to make itself appear smaller than it already was as the others attempted to fix the mess. He turned when Rhysand spoke to him.
“They're not listening to you…” Azriel was speechless and looked to his brother, who seemed equally perplexed by the situation as him.
“Madame I am sorry for the mess let me repay for the damages—“ Rhysand and Azriel then stepped forward. Azriel approached the steps into the shop and bent down to help clean as well. His scarred hands barely brushed against a piece of green ceramic before the other shadows that remained put, alerted him of someone's approach.
“Poppy?” Azriel’s head perked up at the sound of another voice speaking over Rhysands. “I heard something break. Are you okay? Better not be Sailors boy again. I warned that kid if he ever got his hands on another pot–" The voice was soft and airy, low but not deep, new and unfamiliar. He stiffened when two pairs of feet dawning red flats came into his vision.
Before his head snapped upwards, his shadows reacted faster. Rushing forward, they all wrapped the new voice up like a blanket, a harsh gust of wind broke out as they spun a whirlpool around the poor female. Poppy, Rhysand, and Azriel covered their faces, squinting at the shadows that began growing like a storm.
"Azriel what are you doing?" Rhysand backed up.
"This isn't me!" He pleaded.
"Oh my dear Y/n, help her!" Poppy exclaimed with fear.
"Enough!" Azriel's voice echoed out low and firm. The shadows halted their movement, growing eerily still as they dispersed from the female. Your frame came into their sights first, then your face, your arms were put out in front of you, shielding your face from the sudden wind that wrapped around you. "That's enough!" He repeated, recalling them back, you watched with curious eyes as they all flooded back to his side, dispersing into thin air. Azriel's shoulders relaxed, releasing the tension they were in. A few seconds passed before his eyes slowly trailed up your form, catching your softened eyes staring at him already. You were a wonder. "A-Are you alright?"
"Yes thank you…" You stood still as he spoke and watched as his shadows expanded out from him again. As if your presence somehow made them behave, they calmed, but still wanted a peek at you. You smile faintly at the Spymaster. "I'm just fine, promise. But I will admit they caught me off guard there for a second…" You breathe out, feeling the effects of what you just underwent. You opted to leave out the part where they exclaimed and expelled their excitement at you. It's you, you're here. It's you, we brought him to you. Your safe. Was it him they were referring to?
"They're never actually like this, my shadows..." He explained, rubbing his temple. His eyes never left your face, a small smile was daring to form on his lips, which he quickly hid. "They never misbehave. I can't explain what made them act in such a way toward you. I apologize." His brows pinch together. He brought his hand up to lay over his chest in sorrowed guilt. You had only come out to check on your friend, only to be put into a risk situation. He'd never let them hurt anybody innocent though.
"Do I unsettle them?" Your eyes shifted down to where they swiveled and smoothly circled and curled around their master's body. As if noticing and sensing your inner turmoil, they stopped their snake-like slithers. The little wisp zoomed forward, leaving the two bigger ones to continue with the cleaning and sweeping. Azriel flinched and reached a hand out as though that would stop its approach to you. Your eyes fell into a squint as the littlest one swiveled and swept in and out of your hair. Azriel thought to recall it back but stopped when your lips spilled bubbles of laughter. The sound was symphonic and melodious, he wanted nothing more than to entrap the sound into a music box. Your eyes crinkled with delight as the little wisp curled all over you in what Azriel assumed was a playful manner.
"Don't see that happen often." Rhysand chuckled lightly.
You laughed at the sight of the little wisp picking up the strings of your dress where they tied in the front. You wondered if Rhysand was right, maybe he doesn’t see this often or maybe he sees it all the time. You noticed when you looked at Azriel that he was already watching your interactions with the wisp. The edge of his lips curved ever so slightly upwards. You couldn’t help the soft smile your own lifted into when he directed a gentle look at you. “Unsettle isn't the term I'd use for what I'm witnessing right now." He dipped his chin. Letting out a breath.
You bubbled out a laugh once more before you shooed the poor thing back to its master. "Go on then. He's called you back, it'd do you good to listen to him..." You gently blew on the black air and watched as it reluctantly floated back to Azriel. He watched flabbergasted at its obedience to you. You laughed alongside him as he scoffed in disbelief, watching the little wisp do as it was told. Azriel looked more and more perplexed as the little shadow disappeared back into the bigger shadows.
To break and expel the shock, the two big shadows that cleaned up floated over. Extending the broom out to Poppy gently as if to say here we're done. Poppy bowed to them and took it gratefully. You couldn’t help the small grin that crept up to your lips as his shadows wrapped around her in their farewell, being polite. The shadows were behaving so oddly and it was intriguing. They got off her then coiled back against his body.
The shadows then disappeared, vanishing into thin air. Azriel sighed in relief as they did. He rubbed his temple and closed his eyes for a moment. And when he reopened them, your smile caught his attention and it was hard to pull his eyes away. You were breathtakingly sweet, good, pure, like the flowers that now lay scattered and crushed. “I don't know what just happened, the day has been rather strange...” He muttered softly, but it was loud enough for you to catch it all.
"If it's of any reassurance to you, I won't resort to a complaint towards the High Lord about this occurrence." You jokingly gesture to Rhysand. Who fights the urge to bite back a smirk? He was rather amused by this odd encounter. Amused by the way he noticed Azriel tuck his hands slowly behind his leather-worn pants. Just like he did as a youngling when he arrived in Windhaven all those years ago. He mirrored his younger self’s image. Timid under playful smirks, and beautiful females. But even Azriel knew how to play the game you took the lead in.
He rolled his eyes. “You could if you wanted to. No one would hold it against you.” The soft tone of his voice indicated he wasn’t angry. No snark, no annoyance dripping past his lips, just pure lightness. Azriel wasn't one to hide behind his words and it was rare for him to watch what he was saying. “But I know you wouldn’t file a complaint.”
“You seem so confident. How so?” You dared him, crossing your arms over your chest. You didn’t miss the not-so-subtle rake of his eyes over where your ties held your dress together, his eyes practically devouring you quietly. Your confidence faltered, your shoulders falling for a second before you cooled down your beating heart.
“Cause Rhysand here, our High Lord, is going to generously buy you out.”
“What?” You uncrossed your arms in surprise.
“I am?” Rhysand scoffed, though his eyes showed his amusement. His jaw slackened, as he pocketed his hands into his dress pants. He was going to kill the son of a bitch. He supposed this was Azriel’s payback for the stolen pendant. “Yes, I am.” He pitched in, stepping forward the shop's entrance where you remained.
“My mate's sister’s birthday is tonight and we are in dire need of flowers. She has quite the admiration for them you see, even gardens her own at home. It would mean the utmost world to us if we could make it special for her big night tonight.” His emphasis wasn’t lost on you or Poppy. You met each other’s gaze in amusement.
“We can most certainly assist you my Lord, but I’m afraid buying us out is not possible. We have many other orders we need to make sure are seen to. Perhaps we could accommodate your wishes and make a special arrangement for her in place instead? Does she favor a specific flower? Perhaps a certain color she gravitates towards often? Oh, is she familiar with flower symbolism, it’s quite an extraordinary part of flowers. See flowers hold certain meanings, for instance–“
“Roses.” Azriel’s voice cut off your excited rambling. “She favors roses….and she likes the color pink.” Your heart skipped. You’d have assumed such a male to be eligible but at last, your little crush was crumbled in an instant. A male as devoted to knowing a female's favorite color as well as her favored flower, was surely spoken for right? Mated and to have his boundaries respected, though the sudden hope for a chance with a gorgeous male was always one that was watered down. Many that came through the shop were taken and happily mated, in complications with a female, or simply attracted to the same fae. Your favorite by far had been a male buying two completely different sets of bouquets, the flowers in contrast to one another, two different favored interests, you and Poppy tethered the line of their being two different females in the man’s life. Or perhaps he had a mother, daughter, or mate, and he was trying to make them feel special. You hadn’t known, and you wouldn’t know.
Poppy liked to remind you it was never your job to settle in between the lives of those who walked through the door. Your only main concern was creating and giving. And you did, you loved working at Poppy’s shop. You loved seeing the way someone came in for an arrangement made for a loved one or someone special. It made your heart swell with the overwhelming feeling you received from a customer's smile. You loved the idea of someone showcasing their feelings, and their love through that of flowers. The only real part that connected you to your customers, the only real getting involved you did, was knowing what each flower meant and what they could be for. Yet on rare occasions, the customers would let you in on their orders. In who they were for. Just like Rhysand had now. A birthday party for the High Lady’s sister. You did your best to contain your excitement. Knowing the extra care and love you’d put into the arrangement.
"Roses...love." You smiled through a breath, lost and enamored in the idea of having someone who'd love you as much as Azriel did Elain. You weren't a stranger to Rhysands mate and her sisters. The infamous cauldron made High Fae's. Word spread fast around Velaris. Their existence was not lost on you. "Or perhaps..." You paused, really taking your time to observe Azriel. "A sense of courage? Feelings waiting to be unleashed..." You muttered softly. The shift in the atmosphere changing. Azriel tensed feeling exposed and naked under your keen attentiveness and your ability to read someone like a book.
“No. Just a friend.” He shook his head. He was still aware of your eyes upon him. Everything about him tightened to deny you the chance to read him like an open book. You were so good at that something he would come to know about you. He felt as if his whole life was laid in front of you, waiting for your eyes to catch every little secret that his shadows usually hid and protected.
"How about we get to choosing those flowers, Miss Y/n?" Rhysand clasped his hands together for enthusiasm. The hot tension between two strangers was unbecoming and he needed to move things along. He had promised Feyre to gather and bring something beautiful. She hadn't quite specified what that entailed as a present for her sister, but surely flowers could fall into that category, right?
You had put an end to your and Azriel's intense staring. You inhaled quietly as though at a loss for air. Then snapped out of it. You double-take towards your High Lord and nodded hastily remembering what the real purpose of their arrival had led to. He wanted an arrangement for his sister-in-law.
"Oh. Of course. Right this way!" You nodded, your cheeks burning slightly from the exchange with Azriel. You wanted to ask if he was taken, but you already knew the answer; of course he was. Surely he was? His eyes, the way he spoke, his devotion to knowing the things no typical male would care to remember. You'd be hard-pressed to find a male as kind as him with such a gift, with such attentiveness.
Your eyes shifted off of him one last time then you headed towards the door back into the shop. “I can't say I recall any roses in pink left in stock, but I can double-check to make sure,” You smiled timidly, as you ushered them to follow. Poppy was the last one in the shop. "Poppy can show you our book to help you decide on what you would like to add to the arrangement. I'll be just a moment." Rhysand dips his chin as you turn and walk past the opened peach curtains.
Rhysand steps up to the counter and gestures for Poppy to go ahead. "Shall we?" He smiles graciously.
Poppy nods and opens the book, laying it in front of Rhysand. "The flowers are organized by type and color alphabetically and the information about a flower's symbolism and message are listed just below each one. Feel free to ask me any questions you may have as you look through it. Or if you already have a few in mind I can direct you to their pages."
"What kind of flower would send the message of merely showing my brotherly love?"
"That would be our gypsophilia, my Lord. In simpler terms a baby's breath. A delicate white flower. It would be perfect as a filler in the arrangement."
"Yes, I've heard of them. My darling Feyre has spoken of them once with Elain. I can quite put my finger on its symbolism but I believe they'll be a wonderful addition." He agreed.
"Everlasting Love..." Poppy and Rhysand turned to catch Azriel peering down into an oddly shaped plant with spikes. He had reached his hand forward to touch it when you came out from the back again. He immediately let his guard down.
"Brushing up on your Floriography I see, brother." Rhysand gave him his best shit-eating grin ever possible. "Those lessons with Elain have paid off."
"Shut up..." He grumbled.
"So I did manage to find the pink roses. Though I wasn't quite sure whether you wanted more or less, so I decided towards a middle ground of 3 dozen. I hope that's alright." You hailed in a green bucket filled with three dozen pink roses. You cut their stems in the back room to make it easier for you and Poppy to assemble the arrangement. You huffed quietly as you set it down and stood straight to look at Rhysand. "If you want to add more just let me know!" Your smile was more gentle this time. Rhyand bit back his amusement as you turned to glance at his brother again, then double-take. A frown now adorning your face.
"Oh! I wouldn't touch her she bites— Your hand!" You warned hastily with worry over your features. You flinched.
"What?—Shit!" Azriel groaned as he peered down at the plant who had a grip on his forefinger. Shocked that this thing had life to it, he didn't register your hurried footsteps.
"Goddammit, Petunia!" You cursed as you tried to pry open her mouth.
"It's named?" He scoffed though you registered the laugh in his tone. He was flabbergasted by this whole situation.
"I almost— Got it!" You huffed as her mouth widened. Azriel retracted his hand and held it close to his chest. He watched as you took a vile from the apron with pockets around your waist and dropped a fly onto the flat surface of her mouth. You stumbled backwards falling into Azriels chest as her mouth shut with a loud snap.
"Don't see that every day." Azriel raised a brow of interest at the plant.
"Afraid not. For me, daily." You turned to look up at his hand. You pulled it down for closer inspection. You sighed in disappointment. Hoping she wouldn't have caused harm to the members of Rhysands court. But at last, she had. "I'm sorry. I should have made sure you were aware of her. Though in all honestly I try to forget her existence..." Azriel watches as you spin the apron to reach the back pockets. You dig into the one on your right side and pull out a bandaid. His heart warmed at the gesture, at the thoughtfulness. "May I?" You glance up at him timidly, perhaps embarrassed. How could he tell you no? He gave you the okay to continue and it was only then that he took notice of all the different-sized bandages that covered different parts of your skin on your hands.
He understood it now. Your want to forget her. She was a vicious creature who you were afraid to go near. He hadn't meant to reach forward, hadn't meant for his thumb to caress over the bandages. Some were newly placed, and some needed to be replaced.
"Finn our delivery youngling gets too scared to go near it, and Poppy won't even attempt to feed her. She pretends to have lost her hearing when I ask her to." You make a face at her.
"I do no such thing!" You roll your eyes at her.
"Anyway, no one wants to tend to her, so I take on the injuries." You laugh at how ridiculous your hands look. "She's got her moments though like keeping the pest away."
"Male or insect wise?" Azriel mused.
"Oh, both!" You smirk. Your eyes crinkled at his joke.
"So you're the only one crazy enough to take care of her huh?" He hummed in agreement. You looked like a mess. An adorable mess of bandages, but a mess all the same. He couldn't help the urge to reach out to you again but he kept his hands to his sides.
He smiled softly at you. This must have been a difficult task for the two of you. Dealing with this pet. If you could call the plant such a thing?
Your hands caught his curiosity. He hadn't noticed the wounds on your hands, nor had you said anything about his known. He would have to ask you about it sometime. As if aware of his attention, you pulled away and he let you. His eyes watched as you applied the bandage over his forefinger. "Who knew a precious thing could be so vicious?" He said calmly with his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes fixed on you.
"You don't know the half of it, Shadowsinger." You giggled softly. The sound had caused a stirring in his chest. A feeling so foreign he wasn't sure what it was. The way your voice was suddenly muffled and distant. He felt a panic settle within him as you gave him one more smile and turned back around to begin the arrangement.
"I thank you Y/n, I couldn't be without my ten-fingered Shadowsinger. Unfortunately, he needs them all."
"I wouldn't know what'd I do without any of mine, and there have been close calls, my Lord." You raised your battered and cut-up hands.
"I bet." His hearty laugh reached your ears.
It wasn't just your voice alone that felt muffled, that felt far. Azriel turned as he attempted to catch his breath. It felt like he was drowning.
What was this?
He watched as his shadows danced and bounced around him, almost cheerful and celebratory-like. His shadows were practically jumping for joy. As if they were thrilled with what was going to happen between you and him. He gasped as he heard your voice settle into its right tone and pitch again in his ears.
"Oh hello again?" Your giggles had him staggering backward when he turned his whole body to face you. "I hope you'll listen to your master this time. You just about gave him gray hairs a few moments ago and I personally like him as a dark brunette. Gray doesn't quite suit him." You turned your attention to him. Your smile widened from the corners as he caught your eye.
"You..." A calmness slowly overcame him, where confusion overtook you. A gentleness and a sense of peace. The shadows' jumping grew softer and softer until it became a gentle flutter. Something had changed. Whatever had been bothering and unsettling him, had now disappeared and had been replaced with a new feeling. A feeling he never experienced before.
The snap of the bond.
The bond that tethered him to you. His mate. The gasp he released unsettled the other three in the room, he felt your worry grow as he clutched at his chest, and stumbled backward.
"Azriel, what's wrong?" Rhysand straightened up, trying to reach for him. He hadn't made the connection of why flower pots were ending up shattered onto the floor until he looked back at his wings extended. He couldn't keep them tucked in any longer.
"Oh my goodness!" You reached out for him as he fell. His wings knocked down anything and everything in their vicinity. "Azriel!" Your concern had only made him more embarrassed. He had to get out of here.
"Azriel!" Rhysand called out to him, but his thoughts had given him away.
It's her. It's her. It's her. My mate. I need to leave.
"I need to leave!"
Rhysand's eyes widened as he stared at his brother in utter disbelief. In awe. He never imagined that his mateless brother would finally find his mate, but he'd be there every step of the way. "Az…" He stepped towards him tentatively. "Azriel, it's okay!" Rhysand had merely touched his shoulder before his brother was warped by his shadows and was gone.
You gaped at the mess and his sudden hurry to leave. You slowly took your eyes off the broken ceramic pots and over to Rhysand. "Is— He alright?" A small frown rested on your features. He couldn't have just left for no reason.
You watched as Rhysand stared over to where Azriel had stood. His concern was etched on his features. He hummed and sighed heavily. "He will be..." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He inspected the mess and turned to you and Poppy. "I'll pay for this. All of it." He reassured. He directed it towards Poppy more who was looking at Azriel’s empty spot with wonder. "Pink roses will do just nicely along with the baby breaths. I give you free rein to add to the arrangement as you wish. I wish I could stay longer but I must head home to help with the celebration. I'll see to it you have a ride to the house of wind. I bid you ladies a good day." Rhysand dipped his head, then snapped his fingers as he winnowed away. The mess was cleared and fixed seconds later. You were left standing flabbergasted and shocked. Things had been going so well. You hoped it wasn't your doing to cause him such a reaction.
"Well, that's not something you see often..." Poppy voiced her thoughts at the whole mess that unfolded before you both.
"Afraid not. Perhaps he felt an emergency with his mate. I've heard that the bond is strong in such ways that allows you to feel what your other half does. So perhaps he felt her get hurt and rushed off. I mean did you see the panic in his eyes, the fear? I couldn't imagine feeling such a thing. I hope she's alright..." You sighed heavily as you began picking up the roses from the bucket.
"Who?" Poppy gave you an incredulous look.
"Why the High Lady's sister that is. Elain. His mate!" Your eyes widen to emphasize the obviousness of the situation.
"The Shadowsingers mate?" She asked for clarification, hoping that she was hearing you correctly.
"Yes, Poppy!"
"Oh, you poor child!" Poppy looked up at your confused expression.
"What? What did I do?"
"At least you received your mother's beauty." She reached forward and patted your cheek.
"Her beauty? What does that have anything to do—"
"Now, now. Back to work, go and get me my good scissors and purple ribbon. Oh, we'll need some begonias, and irises too!"
"Anything else?"
"A new brain for that head of yours..." She tapped against your temple with her knuckles, ushering you away. "Go away, I can't look at you!" Once you were in the backroom, she began muttering to herself. "Back then the females weren't so incognizant. They knew right away who it was. I mean did she not see him practically fall before her? Even Petunia saw it. Right, my sweet!" She called out to the plant. Petunia turned her head and opened and closed her mouth. "Even the plant noticed it. I know I swore to you my dear Daisy that I'd look after each strand of hair on her head, but I am this close to pulling each one off if she doesn't come to her senses soon." Poppy pointed to the ceiling in false threat, but a mere reminder she would if you didn't realize how oblivious you were to your situation.
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lyv-writes · 1 day
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OKAYY WE NEED DAD!SPENCER REID‼️
okay so Reader is going out for the day for like a little girls day with her best friends and says bye to Spencer and the cute little toddler! Buttt then the toddler starts missing reader and Spencer isn’t sure how to handle it at first, but then he gets the hang of it! <33
AAAA this is so cute omg thank u for this!!! i hope i was able to do it justice <33
spencer reid x mom!reader
words: 1,395
warnings: none really! just spencer being a good step-dad to your daughter, fluff, baby crying, that’s it!! :]
୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀
“Thanks again, Spence,” you say, pressing another sweet kiss to his lips before tugging your coat off the hook and making for the front door. “Remember, Lila is allergic to kiwi. And her bedtime is 8, no exceptions. She has to go to daycare tomorrow morning.”
You had spent the morning holding Lila, playing with her and soaking up her laughter as much as you could. Spencer knew you had never really been apart from her—going to work was one thing, but there was a guilt that came with taking the day for yourself. He watches with a fond smile as you ramble through the list that you had already repeated to him twice and does his best to reassure you, nodding along despite having already memorized it.
Pre-made food in the fridge.
Medical information on the fridge in case of emergencies.
Call if she gets too fussy.
“Oh!” You say, halfway out the door before turning back to Spencer, a smile gracing your face. “And don’t let her convince you to give her sweets after dinner. She’ll ask you for fruit snacks, all cute, then she won’t sleep and it will be hell in the morning.”
“No fruit snacks after dinner, got it,” Spencer said, following your line of sight to Lila sitting on her plush rug in the living room, toys surrounding her as she played. Your face softened, affection swimming in your eyes and he could practically hear the thoughts going through your head. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he gently guides your face back to meet his eyes.
“We’ll be fine,” he says, tone soft as your shoulders sag at the understanding behind his words. “You deserve to have a day with your friends. I think Lila can handle playing dolls with me for a few hours.”
His phrasing made you giggle, picturing Lila’s pouting face, wagging her little finger at Spencer when he takes something too literally, or doesn’t do it the way she wants. For some reason, Lila is never happy with the voices Spencer does, and after a year-and-a-half she still gets that same little pinched brow whenever Spencer holds a doll in his hand, high-pitched voice mimicking a princess’s until she yanks the toy out of his hand with a firm, yet cute, “No, ‘Penth.”
Without fail, hearing his name in her little voice makes his heart soar, pride filling his chest even if she’s scolding him, wagging her little finger as she says it. He’d always been hesitant at the idea of being a father, whenever he pictured his future that was always a blurry part, but now he couldn’t imagine not having you and Lila in his life.
Searching his face, you finally come to the conclusion that he’s being sincere and a bright smile covers your face. Spencer had come to terms a long time ago, far before the two of you were even dating, that he would do anything to make you smile. A sense of pride wells in his chest knowing that the smiles you give him are just for him, a special glint in your eyes every time.
Between work, and Lila, there was hardly any downtime to just relax. Your evenings were often spent wrangling Lila into bed, usually with Spencer if he’s not away for work. Spencer made it a point to be home in time to have dinner with both of you as much as he could, slowly getting involved in her night time routine. She was 6-months-old when you and Spencer began dating, and while it took some getting used to at first, Lila began reaching for Spencer with a giggle and a giddy squeeze soon enough.
When your friends suggested a girl’s spa-day, Spencer was quick to encourage you to go. Having a toddler made it hard to have a social life, especially when your friends weren’t moms themselves. Lila had warmed up quickly to Spencer, which was the biggest relief, and it was hard to find a reason to say no when Spencer offered to babysit.
“She’s gonna be my daughter,” Spencer said, a fond smile on his face as the two of you spoke conspiratorially in the kitchen. “I already think of her as mine, I’d be happy to watch her for the day.”
Your heart swelled hearing his words, and you couldn’t help but say yes when he put it like that. Spencer, you, and Lila being your own happy little family was all you could ever ask for, and it meant more than Spencer could ever know that he had been so welcoming and understanding. He was a dream.
With a final glance at Lila and a sigh, you’re pressing another unhurried kiss to Spencer’s lips, that same lil dazed smile on his face that he got after every kiss, even after nearly 2 years. “Thank you, Spence. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he replies, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your forehead—you were gonna be gone all day, he had to get his fill while he could. “Now go before you miss your appointment.”
With a final kiss, Spencer watches as you walk down the front steps, drive away, waiting until he can't see your car anymore before he’s turning around and closing the door behind him. When he looks up, Lila is already looking at him, eyes glancing between the door and him before her small voice is heard over the cartoon playing on the tv.
“Mama?”
“Mama went to the store,” Spencer cooed, lowering himself down to sit on the floor in front of her and her array of toys. “She’s coming back, don’t worry.”
“Mama s’ore?” she whispered in her small voice, her wide eyes blinking slowly at him before her lip began to tremble. It broke his heart to see her eyes, which looked so much like yours, gloss over with tears.
“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Spencer said, scooping her up in his arms. “She’s coming back for you. She’ll be here soon!”
With a sharp wail for her mom, the tears that had been welling up began falling in big drops, hands gripping tightly to the fabric of his shirt as she cried. Hurriedly, he began to bounce her in his arms, mimicking the way he had seen you do it countless times. He’s shushing her in a soft voice, whispering soothing words in the hopes that they’ll at least calm your crying.
Spencer wracks his brain, trying to sift through the information he had gleaned from the parenting books he had been reading for the past two years—he had started as soon as he came to the conclusion he would ask you out. Would showing her pictures of you work? He didn’t want to make things worse by making her miss you more, but maybe seeing your face would soothe her.
Transferring Lila to one hip, he fishes his phone from his pocket and opens the album of your photos, showing her various selfies, focusing on pictures he has of the two of you. After a couple of minutes her sobs quieted to sniffles and soon enough she was swiping through the pictures herself and giggling every time she saw your face.
With her swiping, it landed on a video, one he had taken of you reading a story to her before bed. At the time he had thought the voices you were using for the characters were so funny, hiding his own laughter behind his hand so that he could capture the sound of Lila’s giggles.
Spencer watches as she giggles along with herself, laughing at the way she reacts when you tickle her tummy. Spencer cant help the fond laugh the slips from his lips at the sight, bright grin tugging at his cheeks at your rosy smile.
When you arrive home that evening, only the kitchen light is on downstairs, the faint light from your bedroom guiding you as you softly push open the door. A warm smile paints your face as you slip your phone from your pocket, taking quite a few pictures of Lila, fast asleep atop Spencer’s chest, her favorite book lying next to his relaxed hand. His soft breaths rustle the hair at Lila’s scalp, her hand loosely gripping the edge of his sleeve as she sleeps.
Tip-toeing around the room, you shed your clothes from the day, slip on some pajamas before placing Spencer’s book on the nightstand. Slipping softly under the covers, you curl yourself around Spencer’s side, hand resting on Lila’s back as you fall asleep, comfortable with the people you love the most.
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teaboot · 1 day
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Hi there, I hope you don't mind me sending you this, since it's a very different kind of kitten advice than the ones you've been receiving, and I totally understand if you don't want to reply to it.
But I highly recommend you get your little kitten a friend. Kittens really shouldn't be alone. It's essential for them to socialise with other kittens (and usually the mum, but she's obviously not in the picture) to learn Very Important Kitten Behaviour.
A few people have sent in the importance of not letting him play with your hands, and to discourage any biting and scratching. That's what the friend would be for. That kind of biting and scratching is part of typical play behaviour and kittens learn from each other (and the mum) what is acceptable and what is not. And if they have a kitten friend, they won't feel the need to do it with you.
If you do some googling you'll find that most cat behaviour experts will recommend adopting kittens in pairs and it's for this very reason. It's also important not to wait too long for that. The socialisation period for kittens, basically when they learn how to be Cat, is between the weeks of 4 and 16 weeks - that's a very wide estimate. A more narrow one, covering the most important weeks, is between ages of 6 and 12 weeks.
The good news is that if they become fast friends - and the earlier in age you introduce them the better - it will give you many cute kitten cuddling moments to enjoy.
Sincerely,
a kitten foster parent who has hand-reared +50 kittens
PS: I'm sorry if I misunderstood your situation, but as far as I could read, it sounded like you had received/adopted a solo kitten. If that's not the case, then please feel free to disregard this information.
No no, you're correct! Thank you, this is great. My brother has a cat we're gonna try to socialize him with, but I have no idea, really flying by my pants here
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cupofjeon · 1 day
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Lion’s Den (Preview)
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↳ Summary: You should have seen the warning signs. It’s been there since the day Jungkook started showing his more than friends affection towards you. Hindsight is, indeed, twenty-twenty, and now you’re reaping the false belief you sowed about the man you once loved. By the time your rose-colored glasses shattered, it was too late. You’ve already entered the lion’s den. 
↳ Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Producer!Fem!Reader
↳ Genre: Yandere | ↳ Type of fic: Oneshot
↳ Disclaimer: The story below the cut is fictitious only. It does not depict Jungkook or any of the other idols mentioned and featured in this story in real life. The author does not condone this type of behavior. Minors do not interact with this story. Ageless blogs will be blocked on the presumption that you are underaged.
↳ Warnings: Blackmailing, threats, noncon, slapping, marking, hair pulling, manipulation, forced marriage, control over women’s reproductive health, physical assault, violence, abusive behavior and relationship. 
↳ Teaser Word Count: 782 | ↳ Release Date: Within the month
↳ Taglist: Open (To be added, you must have age in your bio or anywhere in your blog that is easily seen. Otherwise, you will not be tagged and will be blocked.) Please comment below or send author an ask off anon.
━━ “Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is.”
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You look at the time on your computer, 12:17 am. You haven’t even realized it’s past midnight already. Jungkook slides the box towards you then flicks the can of soft drink on the side, a trick he swore would make the drink less carbonated, before opening it and placing it beside the dish. How can he act so sweet one minute and then be cruel the next? You take the chopstick from his hand, pulling them apart, and shift on your seat as you begin to eat. 
“What are you working on?” he asks as he prepares his own meal. 
You chew and swallow your food before answering him. “Song for Enha.” 
“Yeah? What is it called?” 
“Bills,” you tell him. He glances at you, giving you a knowing look. You understand what the look means. You sigh. “It’s a song about a break up, but it’s not about our break up.”
“Why? You didn’t want to write one ‘cos you know you’ll come back to me anyway?” Jungkook asks with a chuckle. 
“No, I didn’t write any songs about our break up because it wasn’t worth it,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders as you continue eating. Instinctively, you glance at him, and you see Jungkook looking at you with his jaw tensed. You hit a nerve—you hit more than just a nerve, but perhaps his entire ego, and nothing is more fragile than a man’s ego. 
A part of you swells in pride knowing you’ve hurt his ego, but the other part of you mentally scolds yourself for saying what you said. Jungkook is a ticking time bomb; the last thing you want is for him to explode. “Sorry,” you say, sucking your teeth. “Forget I said anything. Let’s just continue eating, please.” 
“How did you go from loving me to hating me, Y/N? I’ve done nothing but love you. Why did you suddenly leave me?” Jungkook asks, his tone indicating he’s hurt which takes you aback. 
Jungkook—the man who forced himself upon you last night, who slapped you, who threatened to kill your brother if you don’t oblige to his requests and blackmailed you—hurt? It gives you a whiplash just thinking about it. He’s fucking delusional, you conclude. 
“Jungkook, you changed,” you say. “You—,”
“Just because someone you love changed doesn’t mean you leave them,” he hisses. 
“You leave when they’ve changed for the worst, Jungkook, and you changed for the worst. You became controlling,” your breathing is ragged, but you swallow the lump in your throat as you continue your tirade. 
“At first, I let it go because I loved you and I’ve known you since we were fifteen and I know how possessive you can be, but I told myself it was just because you’ve always been insecure even when you had no reason to. Then, it escalated. Suddenly, you always wanted to check my phone, always wanting to be here at my studio or wherever I am when I’m working because you’re paranoid about the people I work with, dictating what I should and shouldn’t wear, and you disrespected my boundaries when I clearly established them with you especially in sex. You no longer see me as your girlfriend or even as Y/N, your friend before being your girlfriend; you treated me like I’m an object, like I’m your property.” 
“I did all those for you, Y/N. You didn’t see what I saw. Those people you work with—that fucking Jang Yijeong and Kim Woosung—it’s clear they want you. They practically eye fuck you every time you’re in the goddamn room! You’re my girlfriend. It’s only natural that I do everything to let them know you’re mine,” Jungkook reasons, shaking his head at your tirade. 
“They’re my co-workers, Jungkook! Yijeong, he’s like family to me now much like how Yoongi is because they taught me everything I know about songwriting and producing. And Woosung? He’s my friend. I’m allowed to have male friends.” 
“You’re so naive, baby, it frustrates me so much,” he scoffs, poking his cheek with his tongue as he narrows his gaze at you. 
“Tell me there’s a part of you that understands where I’m coming from,” you desperately say, but you’re met with the coldness of his eyes. You shut your eyes tightly. “Jungkook, I broke up with you because I finally saw you for who you truly are. You don’t love me; you want to own me.”
“I told you I’ll show you how devoted I am to you,” Jungkook quips, chuckling to himself. You shiver at his lighthearted disposition. “I love you, Y/N. It’s only right that I get to you all to myself because I’m all yours.” 
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━━ “You wrap around me and you give me life.” END
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yerimbrit · 1 day
Text
10 hour flight : p. hanni
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synopsis: you bump into a girl more than once at the airport. you learn that she's on the same flight as you, and to top it off, sits right next to you on the plane.
# pairing ! trainee!hanni pham x art student!reader
# tags ! fem!reader, slowburn...?, strangers to lovers, fluff, hanni's debuting soon, reader did some... insane shit in her past, but tbh she's not all that insane herself i swear, she's just reckless, hanni's afraid of flying, reader is '04, reader is a loser unfortunately
# wordcount ! 16k
# warnings ! lots of mentions of injuries/scars
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today was probably one of the biggest days of your life.
you had just graduated from high school in australia in may about 2 months ago, getting into SNU's college of fine arts. you intended to pursue your passion in painting. ever since you were a baby, you've loved to have a hand in art — always scribbling colorful images on everything you could touch, from big pieces of scrap paper to the walls of the living room.
from a young age, you have won a significant amount of trophies and medals for your paintings entered in art competitions. your parents were highly supportive of your hobby, pouring months worth of paychecks into your art lessons and academy tuition fees.
although you were quite grateful, you thought they could be overbearing sometimes. that's why you chose to attend a school far away; to have a breath of fresh air, away from your overprotective mother and father. you could never relax and let loose like you wanted if they were worrying over every little move you made.
for example, the time your parents had left you alone in the house for the first time because they were going to a friend's wedding. they made an extensive list of things to do and not do, and of course, you used the 'not do' side as a checklist.
in your defense, you hadn't planned to have so many people over, just your friend group. but your friend chaeyoung knew a girl that knew another girl that knew a guy, and suddenly your house was hosting a massive party for the entire student-body. it was an honest mistake on your part, vowing to never host a party like that ever again, and sticking to stunts that you could do yourself for some healthy adrenaline.
obviously your parents weren't pleased when they returned, seeing the aftermath of the events taken place the day prior. you were given a big scolding, but you didn't let that stop you from attempting to wreak havoc the next time they were out.
now, family gatherings weren't your favorite. you couldn't get away with anything so long as someone older was watching you. they thought you were a demon. an artistic prodigy demon. they didn't understand how someone like you could be so good at something that was supposed to be so peaceful. you think you've matured enough though; it's been years since you've actually done something bad.
a few of your relatives stayed in seoul after your parents left for melbourne, including your idiot cousin hyein and her parents. it was decided that you were going to live with them, since you've already stayed there on previous visits.
speaking of hyein, it had been a while since you've seen her, last being christmas, which was a disaster. did you say it's been years since your last incident? well, you lied.
all the adults were out for something that you don't remember anything about, and you, being the troublemaker that you were, had convinced the younger girl to help you hang yourself from the ceiling right above the tree. your reasoning was that you'd "wanted to be the star for the night," and sweet little hyein agreed because why wouldn't she agree to her cool older cousin?
(you don't know where hyein got the harness and rope, or how hyein managed to wrap the rope around the beam on the ceiling that extended past the second floor, but the younger lee's eyes practically sparkled at the thought of accompanying you in one of your schemes, so you decided to ignore it.
hyein buckled the harness, tightening it as you squirmed against the restraints. she flashed a mischievous grin at you.
"ready?"
"i was born ready.")
both of you failed to realize that the rope you were using was extremely frayed at the ends and had definitely gone through years of wear-and-tear. it ended up snapping, and in the process, dropped you onto the christmas tree that had just been decorated that morning.
your relatives came home to you and hyein on the floor, wide-eyed, with wounds littering your face and arms from falling onto the tree.
needless to say, you and your little cousin were never allowed alone without supervision again.
on another note, you finally arrived at the airport!
your dad went around the car to open the trunk and started taking your luggage out. shortly after, you and your mom got out of the car and went to join your dad in getting your things.
"so, SNU huh? you're going too far, kid!" your dad chuckled, extending his hand for a handshake.
you gripped his hand firmly, feeling the roughness of his palm, and moving your hands up and down once.
you grinned. "i'll be back before you know it, dad."
you were about to let go until your dad brought you into a tight hug, leaving a kiss on top of your head.
"i know... it's just, we'll miss our star girl, you know?" he patted your back. "it'll be hard for this old man without his little girl around all the time."
you stared amusedly. "even though i always cause trouble when you're not looking?"
your dad let out a hearty laugh and ruffled your hair, much to your chagrin. you took this moment in, absorbing as much of it as you can so you could remember every detail. there were more wrinkles in his skin, and there were visible bags under his eyes. even though he's aged physically, you could tell in his laugh that he was still the same old dad that you've adored since you were little. (he was always the more spoiling parent between him and your mom.)
he stepped back, allowing your mother to rush in for a passionate embrace. you slowly felt your sweater getting damp as your mom sniffled into your shoulder.
"be sure to call when you land, okay? and eat on the flight, it's a long way there. also, the plane is cold so use that blanket i put in your backpack, and-"
you gave your mom a squeeze and briefly pulled away.
"i got it, mom. you told me all of this last night, remember? i even checked everything you said off before we left this morning so i wouldn't forget, so don't worry about me."
she managed a small smile and brought you back into the hug.
"let us know when you've arrived at hyein and her parent's house. and tell them we said hi and to take care of you."
you gleamed. "of course."
after making sure you had everything you needed, you gestured to your parents for a big group hug.
"i love you guys."
"ditto." your mom slapped your dad's shoulder, and you all laughed.
once you made it to the security checkpoint, you waved your parents one final goodbye, before the start of a long journey ahead.
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"excuse me," you mumbled, narrowly avoiding bumping into others in the bustling crowd of the airport. there was a lot of people going back home after vacation, or going back to school or work after visiting home.
heaving a sigh of relief after making through the crowd, you took a moment to look around the area, a plethora of shops and restaurants standing before you. in doing so, you failed to realize you were still in public with thousands of people walking around you, and bumping shoulders with a girl.
"ah!" "ow!"
you widened your eyes as you turned to look at the person you just walked into, swiftly picking her bag up from the ground and handing it to her.
"oh my god, i'm so sorry. i wasn't paying attention," you said, bowing out of habit. the girl giggled. 'oh my god. she has the cutest laugh ever,' you thought to yourself, before looking up to see her face. 'oh my god. she's the cutest girl i've ever seen.'
"it's okay. at least we didn't fall over, right? are you hurt?"
snapping out of your daze (you were staring, and she definitely noticed, you think), you shook your head.
"no, i- i'm okay. are you?"
"mhm, i'm fine! don't worry about me."
you tried to muster out any words relating to asking the girl out, but when you opened your mouth she was already waving to you and turning around.
you cursed to yourself, frowning. "damn it, y/n. you can do all sorts of stupid stuff but you still can't even talk to a girl?"
for as long as you could remember, you've always been unlucky with the girls you talked to. for example, the girl you met at a music festival, who you went on a few dates with. she stopped talking to you after hearing about all the risky things you've done. or the girl who you were paired up with in your advanced painting class, who you almost dated. she cut things off with you because you were too much of a "genius" in art. you still thought that was an asshole move, because what does that even mean?
shaking your head, you forced yourself to stop thinking about your love life in ruins and instead started strolling around the spacious corridors of the airport. you made a mental note to buy something for hyein upon seeing the variety of gift shops lined up next to each other.
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you sipped on your steaming cup of coffee, mindlessly scrolling on your phone to pass the time. your croissant laid half-eaten on the plate. the chatters of the people around you became white noise as you fell into the cycle of liking a post and scrolling down to the next one. if you zoned out enough, you could make out some of the conversations around you. you sighed.
'i miss mom and dad already...'
a bag being placed on the table interrupted your inner monologue before it could even start. startled, you looked up to see a girl. 'oh, a very pretty girl. wait, isn't this the girl from earlier?' you blink. 'shit! it's the girl from earlier!'
"excuse me, but could i take this seat?" she glanced around, then met your eyes. "there's, well. not exactly anywhere else to sit, ahaha..."
opening and closing your mouth, you wordlessly moved some of your things so she could set her cup down. she smiled at you, eyes crinkling up into slight crescents, and you think you've met the love of your life, judging by the way your heart thudded in your chest after seeing the human embodiment of an angel.
she took a sip of her drink. "thanks."
the atmosphere became suffocatingly awkward, and you nervously tried to redirect your gaze to anything but the pretty girl sitting in front of you. your attempts failed, unfortunately, because apparently trying not to look at someone is a lost cause, and your mind automatically filled with the brief memory of the stranger's laugh, smile, and face. giving up, you let your eyes find their way back to her face, surprised to see that she was already looking at you. you coughed.
"so," you started, "whEre-" 'what the hell. leave it up to me to have a voice crack while starting a conversation.' she giggled, and you bit your lip trying not to scream.
fiddling with the hem of your shirt, you cleared your throat and started again. "ahem. i um, meant to say... where, where are you headed to?"
she hummed, taking another sip of her drink. "korea. i'm... hoping to make music there. where are you going?"
you nodded. "music, huh... that sounds really cool," a look of realization dawned on your face, and your eyes widened. "wait, did you say korea?"
a questioning look appears on the girl's face, and she nodded. "yeah, korea. why?"
"i'm going to korea too! i got accepted to SNU's college of fine arts. i paint and stuff."
her mouth formed an "o" shape and she gave you an impressed look.
"that's impressive! it must've been stressful for you."
you grinned, taking a small bite of your almost-forgotten croissant. "it was. i almost lost hope, refreshing my email page over and over at night," you said, shaking your head. "by the way, what's your name?"
the girl looked startled, clearly not expecting the sudden question. the flash of surprise only lasted briefly, however, and she hastily cleared her throat to reply.
"hanni," she smiles, "hanni pham. what's yours?"
"y/n. lee y/n."
"well, y/n... it was really nice meeting you. maybe i'll see you in korea. you could design one of my album covers, haha."
you gulped, trying to ignore the burning heat rushing to your cheeks at the way your name rolled off her tongue. "oh! yeah. it was great talking with you, hanni. and if we do meet again... i'll do my best with the design."
she took her finished cup of whatever she ordered, and her bag, and waved to you with that angelic smile of hers as she walked away with her suitcase.
"nævis, calling-" as if right on cue, your phone's ringtone went off, the beat drop of aespa's next level playing at an extremely loud and embarrassing volume. you sheepishly mouthed sorry to the people around you, who were staring because of the noise, and picked up the call.
you cleared your throat, lowering your voice. "hello?"
the excited voice of hyein rang out into your ear, "unnie! y/n unnie!"
you winced and moved the phone speaker slightly further away from your ear.
"hi, hyein. what's up?"
you heard some shuffling around, and what seemed to be like your aunt's voice scolding hyein for yelling.
"hello y/n, sorry about hyein, she's really excited to have you here soon."
you subconsciously smiled at the thought of your little cousin counting down the days until your arrival. "don't worry about it, auntie. did you need something?"
there was some whining from hyein in the background, and your aunt sternly called her name, effectively shutting her up. "nothing, nothing. just wanted to check in with you. you're at the airport now, yes?"
you nodded, even though she couldn't see you. "yeah, i am. i got some coffee at a cafe and i'm about to head to the gate. by the way, did you guys want anything for the last time in a while? the chocolates at the gift shops are always good, i know you and uncle like them."
there's a thud, and you blinked at the silence that followed. you waited, checking your phone to see if the call was still connected, and raising an eyebrow when hyein's voice finally crackled out into the microphone.
"haah... haaaah... finally..."
"hyein?"
"i want a kangaroo keychain! the cute plush ones!" you once again pulled the phone speaker away from your ear when she yelled again.
'aren't those really expensive?' you thought, slightly grimacing at the thought of your soon-to-be empty wallet. 'oh well.'
you laughed as you pressed the phone to your ear to speak again. "okay, okay. anything else?"
"get two. i wanna match with you, unnie!" by now your wallet was really crying. 'the things i do for you, hyein.'
"alright... well, i have to get to the gate now. i'll see you later? say bye to auntie for me," you told hyein, finishing your pastry and cleaning up your table before getting up from your seat.
"okay! bye unnie!" and the call dropped. you sighed, shaking your head while smiling, and started making your way towards your gate.
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(you held the small keychains in your hand. they were the size of your palm, and you turned it around to check the price tag.
"holy shit, 15 dollars for this tiny thing?!"
"it's for hyein, she wants to match. it's for hyein, it's for hyein, it's for hyein...")
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"hanni?"
"y/n?"
well, that was sooner than you thought. as soon as you made it to the seating area, you spotted a familiar face: the pretty girl named hanni that you bumped into earlier. before, you couldn't start a conversation with her without stuttering and stammering, but the feeling of your lighter wallet must've left you more easygoing after mourning your diminished funds on the way to the gate. (you were at least glad you could make hyein happy.)
she gestured to the seat next to her, her bag occupying it moments prior. grateful, you thanked her, and moved to sit, setting your suitcase in front of you. just as you started to relax, hanni gently tapped your shoulder, nearly making you jump.
"fancy seeing you here?" she said, her grin accompanied by a lighthearted tone.
you breathed a sigh of relief. her lopsided smile sent waves of comfort through you, allowing you to ease into the moment.
"yeah, what are the chances? we're on the same flight," you remarked, a small grin settling on your face as well—hanni's smile was very contagious when you weren't distracted by her beauty, you noted.
hanni nodded, grin widening. "seems like the universe has its plans. maybe it's fate?" she quipped.
"haha, maybe."
a moment of silence passed, and you both burst into a fit of giggles.
you never believed in fate, despite your friends talking your ear off about it. whenever they asked for your input, you brushed it off as a silly superstition. comes with messing around doing stunts all the time, you supposed. after all, you were unpredictable, and so was the world. the thought of your future being predetermined made you shudder.
wanting to continue the conversation, you racked your brain for anything she told you earlier. what was it she was doing... ah, music!
you cleared your throat, bringing hanni out of a daze. she turned her attention to you, eyebrows raised.
"you're doing music, right?" she nodded, "yeah, i've already signed with a company and all."
"really? which company?"
she hummed thoughtfully, and pursed her lips. "sorry, i'm not allowed to tell."
"ah, that's okay," you said, scratching your neck. "do you play an instrument? or do you sing?"
"i do both, actually!" she said with a smile, her voice warming. "but i'm focusing on singing. what about you? you do art, right?"
you perked up at the mention of art. "yes, i do, i love painting," you said, eyes brightening.
"actually, there was this time where i tried to smash my head through the canvas for a project- hey, don't laugh, let me finish! i tried to make it so that the end product would be my face, with action lines outside the rip marks, but the canvas broke in half, and i ended up with a ton of scratches on my face..."
the two of you continued to chatter away, the conversation flowing effortlessly between you. your surroundings became a blur as you lost yourselves in the moment, unaware of anything happening outside of your bubble of conversation.
you suddenly remembered that you were waiting for a flight, and frowned. "hey, don't you think it's been a while since they've said anything? it's close to boarding ti-"
the calm voice of a flight attendant interrupted your question.
"attention all passengers going from melbourne to incheon: there's been some technical difficulties, and we are disappointed to inform you that your flight will be delayed. departure time will be pushed back by approximately one hour. thank you."
as murmurs spread through the gate and disappointed voices filled the air, you felt a sense of frustration wash over you. fishing your phone out of your pocket, you quickly sent a text to your aunt about the delay, your irritation evident in your furrowed brow.
hanni puffed out her cheeks in frustration. "ugh, unlucky."
you nodded in agreement, a sigh escaping your lips. "yeah, it's frustrating. now we're gonna be there even later in the night," you replied, your gaze shifting from your phone to meet hanni's disappointed eyes.
"i guess there's nothing we can do about it now."
"yeah, i guess so."
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hanni always thought she led an honest life, steering out of trouble and focusing on her passion for music. she made sure to feed the dogs, keep up with her studies, help her mom cook, and get along with her younger sister. she had a lot of friends, and she was in a dance cover group with some of them too. she played the ukulele, guitar, and piano, and she sang as well.
then she auditioned for hybe, and passed. her family was proud of her, and she left to korea for training shortly after. she missed home a lot. like waking up to milly and mia's excited barks for breakfast, or bickering with her sister in the car on the way home from shopping, or having family bonding time during dinner.
love was the last thing on her mind when she started training. sure, she's had some crushes here and there, but she's never pursued any of them. that was all there was to it; just a silly crush. when she became a trainee, any thoughts of crushes in hanni's mind were pushed aside for dancing and singing lessons, as well as korean classes.
but after your fateful encounter (or, well, encounters) at the airport, hanni thought she could forget about coming back to training for at least one day.
from the moment she saw you, hanni pham was dazzled. when you bumped into her, you immediately apologized, and even picked up her bag for her. when you finally looked at her, and she could see your face, hanni almost screamed. you were so, so, beautiful. and she had to make her leave before she actually screamed.
then hanni saw you again at a random airport cafe, and everything clicked. lady luck must've finally looked on her side this time, because there were clearly open tables all around you, but you still let her sit with you. with that, she let the conversation flow between the two of you.
by the end of your second encounter, hanni must've thought her luck ran out by now and left with an open offer, knowing you would never see her again after she left.
and then you finally reunited at the gate. well, if hanni thought her luck ran out at the cafe, then it had definitely run out now. there was absolutely no way she could get any luckier than being on the same flight as you.
was it bad she's started to develop a crush on you?
there was a thump next to her, and hanni felt an added weight fall on her shoulder. she turned to see if you dropped something, but it seemed that your head dropped on her shoulder, having fallen asleep. your head. on her shoulder. you fell asleep on her shoulder.
hanni's face was bright red at the realization. you fell asleep! on her shoulder! her body immediately tensed, instinctively trying to get you off, but gave up after you only shifted closer to her. and well, she didn't want to interrupt your sleep, since you seemed exhausted just moments ago.
she couldn't help but think your sleeping face was beautiful too.
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"attention all passengers going from melbourne to incheon: apologies for the wait. boarding will begin in 15 minutes. thank you."
the announcement jolted you awake, and you sleepily rubbed your eyes and lifted your head from where you were leaning it on, stretching your neck to hear a few satisfying cracks.
"did you sleep well? you just suddenly passed out; i was worried," a soft voice asked.
you tried to blink out more of the sleep out of your eyes and focus on the voice next to you, finally seeing hanni's concerned expression.
clearing your throat, which was hoarse from your nap, you offered her a sheepish smile. "yeah, i slept well. i was so anxious last night that i went to sleep really late, that's probably why. sorry about that."
hanni nodded. "no worries! going away from home is scary, i agree."
you tried to reach for your phone, only to look down and see hanni's jacket draped over you. 'huh?' you thought. 'wait, come to think of it, what was i sleeping on?'
you shot a glance over to hanni, who tilted her head. you squinted your eyes, trying to connect the dots. then, it hit you like a pile of bricks: you fell asleep on hanni's shoulder. your cheeks dusted pink in embarrassment, and you cringed at even the thought of it.
'god, that's embarrassing!' you thought, feeling a sense of mortification burning in your chest. 'she even used her jacket as a blanket for me, and she asked if i was okay when i woke up...'
"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" you blurted out, the words tumbling out of you in a rush. "i really didn't mean to fall asleep on you, i mean i didn't even realize i was falling asleep, but-"
hanni giggled, the pleasant sound resounding through your ears.
"it's okay, y/n. i don't mind."
'ah... it's almost like an angel got sent down from earth.'
despite you intruding on her personal space, hanni was still so kind and considerate to you, even though you only met each other a couple hours ago. a heavy blush overtook your face.
"here's your jacket back, at least," you offered, a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment showing in your tone.
she shook her head, waving her hands. "oh no, you can keep it on. you must be cold in only that sweater."
you opened your mouth to protest, but ended up just smiling.
was it too soon to say you liked her?
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the flight attendant walked up and down the aisle, checking for everyone's seatbelts. you and hanni sat comfortably towards the front of the plane, flashing friendly smiles at each other.
you and hanni sitting next to each other? what? wait, let's rewind. how did you find yourself sitting next to hanni, the girl of your dreams who you were talking to at the gate, and at the cafe, and outside of the security checkpoint?
well, the two of you were in the same boarding group. and taking a look at your tickets, you were actually seated right next to each other.
funny how fate plays out, huh.
it seemed like hanni was thinking the same thing, because she started giggling, nudging your shoulder.
"it's funny how fate plays out, huh?"
"absolutely," you replied with a grin, matching hanni's playful tone. "seems like fate has quite the sense of humor, doesn't it?"
hanni giggled again, her laughter echoing softly in the aisle.
"definitely," she agreed, a hint of amusement sparkling in her eyes. "who knew our paths would cross like this? and especially so many times in a day?"
as the flight attendants made their final rounds, you relaxed in your seat and turned to observe hanni, who was looking out the window. her gaze wandered, from the people on the ground crew to other planes preparing for takeoff. you noticed her shiver, and quickly took her jacket off from your shoulders and draped it over both of your laps.
surprised, she looked over to you with raised eyebrows, then smiling at you, mouthing a 'thanks'. she turned her attention back to the window.
you directed your gaze to your lap, leaning back in your seat. your seatbelt kept you from slouching back. you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you unlocked it to see a text from hyein.
from: mom's favorite child (🐣) UNNIE!!!!!! 😚😚 what do u want for dinner moms asking also did u get the keychains 😈
you laughed to yourself, typing in your response. you purposely waited between each message sent, to tease her; hyein always hated when you did that.
to: mom's favorite child (🐣) hi hyein 🤓 i want kimchi jjigae!! also [attachment: 1 image] yes i did
you almost drooled at the thought of your aunt's kimchi-jjigae. the first time you had it, you were hooked. no matter how many times your mom tried to recreate her sister's cooking, it never hit the same as when you'd stay at hyein's house for the holidays and wake up to the smell of your favorite dish in the morning.
from: mom's favorite child (🐣) got it o7 (replied to [attachment: 1 image]) ↪ AHH THEYRE SO CUTE OMGOMG (replied to "hi hyein 🤓") ↪ who are you calling a nerd.
giggling to yourself, you decided to leave hyein on read, swiping out of her contact after reacting to her text confirming your request with a heart.
the jets of the plane fired up, starting to taxi down the runway, and you pocketed your phone and joined hanni in looking out the window.
"have you flown here before?" she asked, keeping her gaze outside.
you hummed, thinking back to your very eventful past visits to your aunt's place for vacation.
"yeah. i have family here, that's where i'm staying for college." you said. "i've gone over a bunch of times for the holidays."
the girl next to you stayed quiet, still staring outside. the plane started to tilt up, and you could see hanni bite her lip. as the aircraft gained elevation, going higher and higher, her eyes grew shut and her face scrunched up.
then her hand flew to yours, clasping yours with an almost crushing grip, eliciting a slight wince from you.
"hanni...?"
her eyes remained tightly shut as she stuttered out a response. "so-sorry! i'm a bit... afraid. of- of planes."
you felt the plane make a sharp tilt to the right, and the left, and hanni's grip only intensified.
"no matter how many times, i- i fly... it doesn't seem to get any better... i'm sorry," she mumbled. if you weren't craning your head to listen, you wouldn't have caught half of what she was saying, considering she was trying to focus on containing her fear.
her hold on you loosened, almost as if she was ashamed, but you only responded by firmly squeezing her hand back. if she's scared, then you should comfort her, right? it's only the right thing to do.
the action caused her to whip her head towards you, her gaze darting between your hand tightly grasping hers and your face. this went on for a few seconds, your concern for the girl growing as the moment stretched on. you watched her closely, noticing the furrow in her brow and the tension in her soft features.
when she finally stopped at your face, you offered her a comforting smile. she blinked a few times, widening her eyes, and reciprocating the gesture.
the plane started to stabilize in the air, letting hanni's anxiety simmer down while you rubbed soothing circles into her palm. it seemed to help, since her shoulders visibly relaxed as she took deep breaths, flashing a grateful smile to you. despite the plane now flying steadily, you never let go of her hand, continuing to offer a sense of solace in case the girl's anxiety spiked.
after around 10 minutes (you didn't really know, your watch was in your bag and you still hadn't let go of hanni's hand) a flight attendant started making her first round down the aisle for drinks and biscuits. as she reached your row, her cheeks raised up in a cooing smile, her gaze clearly lingering on you and hanni's now-intertwined hands.
"aren't you two just the cutest couple," she remarked, her smile widening.
hanni's cheeks flushed, and she quickly shook her head, stammering, "oh, no, i'm, we're not-"
before she could deny the attendant's assumptions, though, you swiftly interjected, flashing a grateful smile to the attendant. "thank you. we'll have a cup of water," you glanced at hanni, thinking for a moment, "and some hot tea."
the attendant gladly poured your refreshments, sending you a "hwaiting!" gesture before moving on to the next row.
"i'm so sorry," you turned to hanni, releasing her hand. a wave of disappointment hit you at the loss of hanni's warmth. she seemed to share the feeling, although you didn't notice.
"it's fine. it would've been embarrassing for all three of us, anyway."
"yeah..."
the two of you turned away from each other, blushes overtaking your features.
'the thought of dating her doesn't seem so bad.'
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it had been about an hour and a half since takeoff. you texted some of your friends, who checked in on you frequently, asking things like 'are you dead' or 'did the plane crash yet', to which you replied 'not yet sadly' or something similar. you were doodling random cats in your notes app in between texts.
to your left, hanni had pulled out a book, seeming invested in the pages filled with words of plot. she was almost at the end, you noticed—there were only a few pages left.
a few more minutes passed, and the girl closed the book with a content sigh. after tucking the book safely into her carry-on bag, she peeked around her, her eyes landing on you, scanning your features.
"hey, how'd you get this scar on your cheek?"
you felt a poke on your upper cheekbone, hanni's finger pressing lightly on the tender patch of skin. you brought your hand up to your face to touch the already fading scar, and tried to remember which incident it was from.
"i think it's from when i jumped out one of the school windows," you answered, turning to look at hanni.
"oh," she replied, then raised her eyebrow. "wait, what? you jumped out the window?"
you scratched your neck, feeling embarrassed. 'she's definitely gonna be scared away after i tell her,' you thought ruefully. glancing over to hanni, you quickly realized you weren't going to get away with not telling her the backstory of the scar.
you sighed. "it's not that interesting, i mean..."
the girl beside you watched with expectant eyes, eagerly awaiting your next words. you pondered, wondering if you should really tell her.
"i set off some firecrackers on the school roof, and they found out it was me not even five minutes later," you explained, "i sped down the stairs and hid in some cleaning closet. but they somehow knew i was in there, so i had to jump out the window and run home before they caught me."
a few beats of silence followed, your self consciousness catching up to you as the tip of your ears flushed bright red. when you sneaked a glance to your left, you saw hanni's mouth agape.
"wow," she blinked. "that's insane."
"i know."
you rubbed your elbow, fidgeting with the fabric of your sleeve. 'she's definitely weirded out. see, y/n, this is why girls never-'
"but you're okay, right?"
'huh?' you thought to yourself, then facing hanni. she had a worried smile on her face, head tilted to the side. your cheeks burned. you couldn't win against pretty girls.
"oh. yeah, i am. i just landed in a bush, and a branch scratched me."
she nodded, scanning your features. aside from the one on your cheek, there were a few other minor scars on your face, from similar events, although those were more hidden. there were a lot of them around your body too, from burn marks to scratches and cuts.
"what's this one from, then?" she pointed under your ear, where a small scar from a healed cut laid.
"this one? it's kind of recent. i was trying to make an outline of myself with throwing darts, but my friend had terrible aim. it grazed my neck."
hanni winced, cringing as she imagined how that felt for you. "yikes."
she thought for a moment, a memory resurfacing at the mention of darts.
"that reminds me, there was a time me and my friends were playing darts, but we all kept missing the board," she smiled, reminiscing on the past moment. "we hit everything in the house but the dartboard."
you smiled as well, finding humor in the similarities between you and hanni's experiences. well, except for the fact that your friend was supposed to miss you, the target.
"what did your parents say?" you asked, genuinely curious. your parents usually restricted your actions, like not letting you go out after school or supervising your purchases, but ultimately let you off the hook in the end. you thanked them for that mentally, albeit feeling a tad guilty for being spoiled.
she tapped her chin. "they just scolded us and told us not to do it again. and we had to clean up our mess—there were a bunch of darts on the ground, and things that fell because of the darts."
you laughed, finding her memory relatable. there were countless times you were made to clean up your messes, although you didn't exactly learn from your "mistakes." (you considered them "happy accidents," as bob ross said. alas, your peers, relatives, and teachers alike, disagreed.)
"how did your parents react to your injuries?" hanni questioned, her expression softening.
"well..."
you and hanni started getting to know each other better, warm and lively conversation filling the air. you learned that she was raised in melbourne, and that both of her parents were vietnamese. she had two dogs and a younger sister, and she played a variety of instruments.
you told her about some other incidents, to which she was amused by, and touched lightly on the awards you've received for your paintings.
topics shifted constantly, the two of you seeming not to run out of things to talk about. with debates on something as trivial as which juice flavor was better, more memories from your childhood came flooding back, the two of you sharing your experiences and bonding over them.
'this is nice,' you thought, a glimmer of hope rising. 'maybe, things will go well this time.'
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from: 🆕👖 (soon) meanjee 🐻 hanni are you on the plane? kitty kang 😾 did you bring the tim tams dani ☀ omg did you get tim tams for us 🥺🥺 you yes dw i also made a friend meanjee 🐻 who dont lie 🤣😂 you excuse me her names y/n shes an artist guys shes so cute 😭 we kept bumping into each other and guess what kitty kang 😾 you tripped over yourself? dani ☀ you asked her out!? you (replied to kitty kang 😾: you tripped...) ↪ do you want the tim tams or not kitty kang. (replied to dani ☀: you asked her...) ↪ NO we just met but i was TRYING to say that we bumped into each other accidentally like 3 times and we're on the same flight and sit next to each other dani ☀ it's destiny!! meanjee 🐻 i never thought i'd see the day hanni having luck in girls 💀 you WOW im js gna ignore that. remember my fear of flying? she held my hand the whole time bc she saw i was scared :(( shes js so AUGH :] i think she likes me too kitty kang 😾 she has more game than you im glad she could comfort you though dani ☀ AWW that's so cute you two are so cute i wanna meet her! you maybe if things go well with her hyeinie THE BEST MAKN😎E hiii whats going on (replied to you: excuse me her names...) ↪ wait did u say y/n?? you yeah why? hyeinie THE BEST MAKN😎E um actually its nothing i have to help mom with cooking bye unnies!! you ???
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hanni stared at your hand, which was holding out an earbud, in confusion. she tilted her head.
"ah, sorry. do you want to listen to something with me? you can choose the song," you smiled, showing your phone screen which displayed the spotify search menu. (you made sure that it stayed on the search bar and not showing one of your many embarrassing playlist names.)
her eyebrows raised, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes as she processed your words. you swallowed nervously, about to retract your hand until she took the earbud from your hold, her hands brushing against yours briefly.
"sure," she agreed, then reaching for the device from your other, outstretched palm. "do you like daniel caesar?"
your bangs fell over your face as you nodded eagerly, blocking your vision. you moved to tuck your hair behind your ear, though hanni beat you to it, her cold hands contrasting with your now-burning-red ears.
hanni cleared her throat with a quiet cough, breaking into a smile shortly after. the two of you listened to the melody of the song that was being played into your shared earbuds, hanni occasionally humming along.
"and i'd love to make you mine," she softly sang, her gentle voice filling your ears. she sounded like cotton candy, so sweet, like honey drizzled over warm toast on a sunny afternoon. each word that she sang sent you into bliss, arrows of cupid piercing your heart. 'maybe,' you thought, 'just maybe. i'll ask her out on a date by the end of this flight.'
the last few seconds of the song faded out and started playing whatever was recommended by your spotify (which was a wave to earth song) but you couldn't pay attention as you found yourself replaying hanni's singing in your head.
noticing your furrowed eyebrows and your dazed look, hanni nudged your shoulder. "sorry, was i too loud? i tend to sing along sometimes; it's always been a habit of mine."
you widened your eyes, shaking your head no. "no, you're fine! i think your singing is quite nice, actually. you have," you blushed, "a very pretty voice."
her cheeks lifted into a closed smile, sending a flutter through your chest. you took a few deep breaths, trying to calm your thumping heart. at least you didn't panic at everything she did, unlike the past 10? 20? times she did so much as smile.
"thank you," she giggled, leaning her head on yours. deep breaths were not going to help in your situation, since it seemed to get even worse for your heart every time. instead, you focused on the song playing in your ear, and the rise and fall of hanni's chest. it wasn't too long after the next song started when you started hearing small snores next to you.
'ah,' you thought. 'she must've been tired.'
moving her head to sit more comfortably on your shoulder, you brushed her bangs out of her face, unconsciously smiling at how peaceful she looked asleep. you adjusted the jacket that was laid over both of your laps to cover more of her legs instead of yours, slightly shivering as you instantly felt the cold from the cabin aircon replacing the warmth from hanni’s fleece jacket.
‘oh, well.’
you rested your head on top of hers, sarah kang’s once in a moon quietly playing into your shared earbuds, and you let yourself slowly drift off to join hanni in dreamland.
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"mmph..."
you groaned as you rubbed your eyes sleepily. your neck was stiff, your shoulder was sore, and you had 12 different cramps in your legs from your uncomfortable position in the airplane seat.
hanni shifted on your shoulder, and you panicked, thinking you might've woken her up from your stretching. thankfully, her soft snores continued after a few moments.
you sighed in relief. you would've felt insanely guilty if you ended up waking her.
stretching your shoulders back, (though still careful not to wake the sleeping girl leaning on you) you reached into your backpack under the seat in front of you, and pulled out your sketchbook.
the thing itself was around a year old. over that year, you'd nearly filled it to the brim with dozens of drawings, including ones you drew on buses, trains, at parks, in history class, on your bed, everywhere. similarly, you kept a sketchbook for each year prior to the one currently in your hand. it was almost time to retire this one; you only had about 3 pages left.
taking a small pen out from your wallet, you pressed the fine tip to the smooth beige paper, soon letting your arm move freely across the page, sketching things you could see around you—the overhead aircon, someone's paper cup of water from the recent beverage round sitting on their tray table, and...
you looked to hanni, then back to your sketchbook. you'd subconsciously started drawing hanni while looking around your surroundings (or, lack thereof). although it was quite difficult to get a decent look of her features as a whole, you managed to sketch out the way her bangs framed her face, the curve of her eyelashes, and her mouth slightly ajar.
the people around you must've thought you were crazy watching you try to lean forward to look at hanni, while also trying to keep your movements minimal as to not wake her. but that was okay. people back home already saw you as crazy when you did anything, especially after the wheelie incident, which you didn't want to think about.
after finishing the initial sketch, your hand appeared to have a mind of its own, because it moved to the next page over and started doodling more of hanni. you squinted your eyes, trying to remember what she looked like when she bumped into you, when she sat across from you at the cafe, and when she was sipping from the cup of tea you called for her a few hours ago.
the page was filled with hanni's face in the blink of an eye. you didn't know how it happened, but it would be really embarrassing if said girl woke up and saw this right now.
"mmm..."
...why didn't anything go your way?
you flipped back to the page full of doodles of the cabin before she could see anything, covering the page with your sleeve. you tensed your shoulders in nervousness, quietly clearing your throat.
"sleep well, hanni?"
hanni's lips upturned into a sleepy smile (you screamed a little mentally at her cuteness) and she nodded, giving you a thumbs up.
"thanks for letting me use you as a pillow," she said, rubbing your numb shoulder.
you laughed to yourself, mostly because you couldn't feel your shoulder as hanni touched it. "it's no problem. i wasn't going to let you have neck cramps from leaning on the wall."
she nodded again, stretching out her muscles and letting out a big yawn. her eyes shifted back towards you and down at your lap, where you placed your sketchbook.
"what's that?"
a bead of cold sweat rolled down your forehead, and you gulped. what if she was creeped out at your drawings of her? then, your mind wandered to the moments you shared just earlier, and you thought, 'there's no way hanni would act like that.'
you shyly uncovered the page, passing the book to the girl, watching intently as she pored over the details that you'd meticulously drawn. her mouth gaped in astonishment, in awe of your ability to capture the scene around you.
she turned her head towards you, eyes sparkling. "this is amazing, y/n!"
you bashfully scratched your neck, giving her a sheepish smile.
"it's nothing, really," you tried to say, but her attention was already on the next page.
"this is... me?"
crap.
"um, yeah. it is. there's not much to see from our seats, so i ended up drawing mostly you," you tried to defend, hoping she wouldn't take your actions badly. "you're also, very," you cleared your throat, blushing, "pretty. very... pretty, yeah."
she grinned, cheeks dusted pink, and trailed her hand down the page, tracing over the soft features—her features—that you'd effortlessly drawn as she slept.
"can i keep it?" she asked, looking into your eyes for approval.
shrinking back from the unexpected eye contact, you gulped and nodded. you were thinking about giving it to her anyway.
"yes. i'd love to give it to you, as something to remember me by, haha."
after you finished your sentence, you gently grabbed the sketchbook from hanni's already offering hands, and left your signature on it. the ripping sound of the book hummed as you removed the page from the confines of the spiral spine, handing it to your seatmate.
her grin grew wider as she accepted the paper. "thank you so much, seriously. this is so cool!"
"it's no problem," you laughed, tipping your invisible hat to her.
the flight intercom beeped.
"hello, this is your pilot speaking. we have arrived in incheon, local time is 10:42 pm. please make sure your seatbelt is secured and your seat trays and window blinds are up, and also unplug any devices you may have. enjoy your stay in korea and have a good night."
hanni, who just tucked your drawing into her bag, looked over to you with surprised eyes. "it's the end already? i swear we've just been here for like, 3 hours."
you were shocked too, your eyebrows raised. "i know, right? but i guess we did spend a lot of it sleeping."
"yeah, you're right," she giggled.
you took a deep breath, not knowing what to say. "it was, um... really nice getting to know you. i know it was weird seeing each other so much in a day by chance," you said, "and uh, if you'd like, we could, um, go out on a date sometime?"
a scarlet blush overtook your face, and you think the people behind and in front of you must've heard you say that because you heard a gasp or two from your surroundings.
hanni's face was terribly red as well, and it made you feel a little better knowing you weren't having one-sided feelings.
"o-okay. deal."
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the rest of the time spent after that was a blur to you, and it took you until you sat down on hyein's living room couch that you forgot to give hanni your number.
holy shit, y/n. you asked a girl out on a date. and after spending basically the whole day together, you forgot to exchange contact info with her? this was on a whole new level of sick and twisted, even for you.
"we're home!" a gruff voice called, followed by the sound of the heavy door closing, and the sound of excited footsteps followed, rushing in your direction.
a minute later, you got tackled by a very hyper hyein.
"unnie! unnie, you're here!"
her hold on you was incredibly tight. you don't think you could squeeze out even if you wanted to. nonetheless, you returned the embrace, patting her on the back and nuzzling your nose into her messy hair.
"hey, hyeinie. i missed you," you murmured, moving your hand up to card through her dark brown locks.
your younger cousin's eyes sparkled, and she broke out into a huge grin. you felt yourself being squeezed even tighter, before you coughed and wheezed out, "can't- breathe."
your uncle gently separated hyein from you, and you stood up so you could bow and give him a hug.
"welcome back, y/n!" he laughed, giving you a rough slap on the back which made you stumble a little.
your uncle was a warmhearted man, much like your father, even though they weren't blood-related. you didn't exactly know what he worked as, but he was always dressed to the nines whenever he went out, regardless of the occasion.
"i'm glad to be back. i'll be staying for a while, too," you added.
turning and smiling at hyein, you ruffled her hair, making her stand up and do it back to you. thankfully, you dodged in time. wait, did you shrink? or...
"hyein, you got taller again!" you exclaimed. last christmas, she was at about your height; a little above average, a solid 5'6. but looking at her now, she was probably around 5'7, almost as tall as her dad.
the younger girl blinked, staring wide-eyed at you. she slid her hand from the top of her head to the empty space above yours. being honest, the difference wasn't all that much, but your brow twitched at having to even slightly flicker your eyes up to make eye contact.
"did i?"
this was starting to irk you. you knew that hyein just realized this was something she could hold against you, and that was the last thing you wanted to happen.
defeatedly, you sighed.
"dinner is ready!" your aunt called from the kitchen. your eyes lit up as the scent of your favorite kimchi-jjigae wafted through the air. bless your aunt's soul.
you slowly turned to your cousin, a glint in your eye.
"last one there is a rotten egg."
and then, chaos.
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"y/n, you haven't been here in a while. now that you're here to stay, would you like to do anything in korea?"
you adjusted the bandaid on your knee, and hissed as hyein pressed on the bruise just below it. of course, you hurt yourself while trying to race the younger lee to the dining room.
snapping your eyes to your aunt, who was setting the pot of stew in the middle of the dining table, you tried to think of something you've never had a chance to do. but you've been to korea countless times before, and you'd always gotten to do something new. it'd been around a year since you last came, since your relatives came to you for christmas 7 months ago.
"i guess... just walking around like a local? going to a café, walking around the city. and..." you bit your lip, struggling to remember the name of the theme park that was so famous.
"oh!" you snapped your fingers, "lotte world!"
hyein's hand twitched. one glance at her, and you could see that she was practically buzzing with excitement. she looked as if she was about to bounce off the walls like a pinball. you pinched her arm, causing her to yelp.
"lotte world! that sounds fun," your uncle commented, "i wish i could join. work's been busy lately."
your aunt laughed, "me too! but y/n," she shot you a stern look, "don't go causing trouble for people. i don't want to see you on the news for the wrong reasons."
'that's very encouraging and totally non-threatening!' you shivered. still, her words only tempted you. knowing you, it wouldn't be long into the school year before you were a known figure on campus.
portions of the stew were distributed to everyone's bowl, and you licked your lips. you didn't have anything on the plane, since you'd slept through most of it and missed the in-flight meal.
"thank you for the food," you said, before bringing a spoonful of the stew to your lips.
with that single bite, you think you've ascended to heaven and above. you wolfed down the rest of the food, eating like you hadn't eaten in a week (which you felt like you didn't) and before you knew it, you'd finished your dinner. seeing this, hyein also tried to finish her food quickly, but was stopped by your aunt.
taking a few swigs of water, you looked to your aunt, who watched you in bewilderment. "auntie, that was so good. seriously, that was soooo good. can i have seconds?"
everyone at the table broke out into a fit of laughter.
"of course, y/n."
as dinner went on, and you caught up with hyein and her parents, everyone had finished their serving, and you, your third serving. you tried to help your aunt with the dishes, but she just shooed you away to you and hyein's shared room.
despite already having been in the bedroom to drop off your luggage, you let your cousin lead you to it. it was very spacious, having enough room to hold a sizable tv that you could watch netflix on from the bed, and enough room to walk around comfortably. hyein's desk was messy, as always. it was filled with school papers, colored pencils and highlighters, and a book you got her the last time you visited.
speaking of the bed, it had been replaced by a very charming bunk bed, complete with fluffy white comforters and a surprisingly stable ladder. you already claimed the bottom bunk as yours, your phone laying on the plush pillow.
"tada!" hyein presented to you, doing jazz hands towards the bed. "i know you've already seen it, but try laying in it! it's pretty comfy for a bunk bed."
following her suggestion, you went ahead and sat yourself on the bed, immediately sighing in content. moving your phone so you could lay down, you swung your legs over the bedframe so you could soak in the comforting feeling of the bed. the mattress was fairly soft, perfect for your strange sleeping positions. you flashed an upraised thumb to hyein, who grinned triumphantly.
she puffed up her cheeks. "see?"
"i do see, hyeinie," you said, reaching for your backpack, "before i forget..."
the younger lee gasped at the sight of the matching kangeroo plush keychains, even though she'd already seen them over text. one was purple, her favorite color, and the other, blue. attached to their hands were small magnets, which would allow them to connect together.
she squealed, holding the purple one to her chest. "they're so cute! i love it, thank you y/n-unnie."
you were, once again, brought into a soul-crushing hug. 'at least hyein is happy.'
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10 minutes later and you and hyein were now wrapped up in a fiery race of mario kart. you had successfully hooked up your switch to the tv just a bit ago, and of course you had to compete with her in your shared favorite game. it was a tradition for the two of you to play through at least two rounds of the grand prix mode, usually playing for the special cup for one of the rounds.
a hand covered your field of vision, and you batted it away, groaning at your little cousin. "stop, i was winning!"
she cheekily stuck out her tongue, swiftly overtaking you in the race. you cursed whoever picked the mushroom cup (you did) because the piranha plants in sweet sweet canyon were beating your ass, and your rank just kept dropping after hyein rudely interrupted your groove with her hand.
"ahhh..." you sighed as a bot passed you on the second lap. setting the cpu level at the maximum was a mistake. hastily, you collected the power up block, your eyes lighting up seeing the formidable blue shell on the dice roll. spotting the shortcut, you performed a sharp-angled drift that you were only able to do after years of perfecting the technique, and expertly boosted yourself to catch yourself up to 4th place.
it appeared that hyein was too focused on smoothly driving through the track, so she didn't notice your newly-acquired trump card. you smirked. 'she won't see it coming,' you mischievously thought.
it was now the third lap. you were saving the shell for right before the finish line, and you were currently in a solid 3rd place, with hyein in 1st and a bot in front of you.
the younger lee glanced at your side of the screen and widened her eyes. 'did she just now notice i had the blue shell?'
"unnie! you can't! i'm so close to winning!" she shouted. the finish line was nearly in sight. the bot slipped on a banana peel and your smile only widened as you watched the flailing animation while passing by. hyein tried kicking you to distract you, but it was no use. you had already thrown the power up that would help you win the race.
"checkmate," you smugly said as you patted hyein's back. the girl was watching the finish screen in despair, gripping her controller tightly in annoyance.
she slowly turned to you, a menacingly determined look on her face. "i'll win the next one. it's thwomp ruins, you suck at thwomp ruins."
damn it. she was right.
hyein ended up winning the next race, as she declared. you always had trouble avoiding the obstacles on the track, much to your dismay. with that win, she also won the cup, because she also won the first two races. you blamed it on the jetlag.
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(when you awoke, you felt a heavy weight on your chest. you blinked, barely making out the image of hyein laying on you, softly snoring. you checked your phone. 5:12 am. well, whatever. it was too early to think about anything. gently combing your fingers through her hair, you fell back asleep.)
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“y/n?”
the door to your shared bedroom creaked open, and you shoved the covers over your face. 
“y/n, it’s 11:30, wake up,” the voice called.
slowly, you peeked from under the comforter that was very much doing its job at keeping you comfortable, to see your aunt standing in the doorway with a ladle. reluctantly, you climbed out of bed.
"morning, auntie," you mumbled as you rubbed your eyes, making your way to the bedroom door.
she stepped aside to let you exit the room. "good morning, sleepyhead."
you spent a few minutes to brush your teeth and wash your face in the bathroom before coming out to the living room. the house was eerily quiet without the presence of your uncle and hyein.
...wait, where's hyein?
looking around suspiciously, you still found no trace of the younger girl in the house. she was gone when you woke up, too. where could she have gone? it was summer break, and hyein was barely entering high school.
coughing, you asked your aunt, "um, where's hyein gone?"
"oh, she's at the company. she has practice today, didn't she tell you?"
"what practice?"
"...dance practice? vocal lessons? she's debuting this month, remember?"
debut... dance... vocal... that rings a bell...
'wait, what the fuck? is hyein a kpop idol?'
your heart beat faster at the revelation. hyein? your cute little cousin who you swore had just graduated from elementary school two years ago? you knew she took dance lessons, and her other activities that came to a halt last year, but... debut? she was still a kid! and it sounded like this debut was serious, the real next step in her career.
your emotions were all jumbled up upon thinking more on the matter. why didn't she tell you?
"y/n? hey, how about you eat now," she placed a bowl in front of you, "and maybe later you can talk to hyein about it. don't worry until then."
"easier said than done," you replied, digging into the rice with your spoon. but she was right. you could talk to hyein later; you still had to unpack your bags.
breakfast tasted dry and bland, even though you were sure your aunt cooked it with perfection and love in mind. there were just too many thoughts in your mind.
putting your finished bowl in the sink and washing it, you shuffled back into you and hyein's room, intending to tidy up the space and also set your things down. this was where you'd be living for the next four or more years, after all.
this bedroom brought back memories. what used to be a guest room that five-year-old you would sleep in during the holidays, was now turned into your dear little cousin's haven of comfort. from the moment she was born, you've adored her—it was like having a little sibling, since you were an only child. the guest room was more lively, more full of energy with hyein there.
as she grew up, there were times where she, of course, kicked you out of the room, because it was 'too embarrassing' to have her older cousin sleep in the same room with her. although you always woke up in the middle of that night to see a hyein-shaped lump on top of you. it was endearing, really, to see, to know that the girl loved you as much as you did her.
you traced your finger along the edges of the old closet in the corner of the room. there was a barely noticeable dent on the side, from when you were playing a game of operation and accidentally threw the tweezers too hard in a fit of rage.
a piece of duct tape you'd painted white that was stuck onto it for a good week, because that was the best that a 14-year-old and a 9-year-old could think of. your mom and auntie still got mad, though.
you got to cleaning and unpacking, patiently waiting for time to pass so hyein could come home and you could talk.
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dinner came and went, and you were now sitting on the bed, waiting for your cousin who was washing up in the bathroom.
"hey unnie... why are you just sitting there?"
you wordlessly patted the space next to you, your silence being an indicator that what you wanted to talk about was serious.
"why didn't you tell me you were a trainee?"
"..."
"hyein?"
she stared at her lap, guilty. "i..." she choked out, "every time you came, i was just having so much fun. and i didn't know when to tell you because i thought you would make fun of me, or something. i don't know."
hyein sniffled, and looked at you with tears streaming down her cheeks. you sighed and wiped them away with your thumb. she continued.
"and this training, i know you think it's a lot for me and it is, but my members, they make it so much fun. and i'm so close to achieving my dreams, y/n-unnie! july 22nd. that's in 20 days, i'm gonna be a real idol. topping the charts, i just, urgh-"
you brought her into a hug, rubbing her back as she sobbed into your shoulder.
"...i support you. i'm not judging you, i was just worried about you," you planted a kiss on her forehead.
"you're my baby cousin, of course i wanna protect you from the nasty entertainment industry. but... if this is what you want to do, then i'll cheer you on from debut to retirement."
she sniffled. "that's in like, a gazillion years, you're gonna be dead by then."
"shush," you pulled her back into your embrace, "let's just go to sleep."
at 6 am, you woke up with hyein sleeping soundly on your chest, again. this time, you carefully slid out of bed, brushing your teeth in the bathroom, and then sauntering over to the kitchen where your aunt was already awake and cooking breakfast.
"up so early?"
you groaned. mornings were never for you, especially since you always stayed up to paint during your spurts of inspiration.
"i talked to hyein." a pause. your aunt took a minute to wash her hands, and turned around to face you.
"and?"
"i told her i support her. and we fell asleep talking about which member of bts was the best. and now my eyes are super swollen 'cause we had a crying session right before that."
in the background, you could faintly hear the sound of rushing water. hyein must be awake.
"morning..." the younger girl walked in, rubbing her eyes.
you smiled. "good morning, hyeinie."
"woah, you're awake... you're usually passed out at this time."
"are you disappointed?"
"settle down, kids. breakfast's ready."
you ate in silence, occasionally asking for a napkin, or asking how each other's sleep went, and hyein went in to go get dressed for the day.
the sound of the garage door opening resounded throughout the house; uncle must be back from running errands.
"that's me," your cousin said. you adjusted the cap on her head.
"you're sleeping on the bottom bunk tonight, just so you know. i don't want you falling off in the morning, while i'm 'passed out'."
she slipped on her shoes, grinning widely at you. then, she set off with a skip in her step. you shook your head at the sight, giggling.
a few hours later, around noon, your aunt came into your room holding a wrapped... lunch? it looked like the ones you would get from your own mother for field trips, a boxed lunch wrapped with a cloth with a cute design on it. you paused in the middle of your painting of the view from your window. it was time to take a break, anyway.
"what's this?" you took it from her. the cloth concealed the smell pretty well, so you couldn't tell what was in it.
your aunt crossed her arms. "hyein's lunch."
okay... that's weird. why would she come in and give you hyein's lunch? wasn't she supposed to- oh. "you want me to bring it to her, don't you."
she only nodded, leaving the room right after.
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hybe entertainment was a big building. like, a seriously big building. it was also weirdly pleasing to look at, but you thought that way with how the city looked in general with all those big buildings with their fully windowed walls.
hyein's manager was supposed to come get you at the lobby. it felt awkward waiting there, since it was so prim and proper compared to any other place you'd been to. you felt out of place. you were just a trainee's cousin, not some important figure in the industry. hell, you weren't even in the industry!
from: mom's favorite child (🐣) why'd mom tell me to send my manager down? are you here? to: mom's favorite child (🐣) yeah from: mom's favorite child (🐣) why???
you chose not to answer that. 'did she really forget her lunch?'
after around five minutes (and after receiving some curious looks from staff members) the manager led you to a dance(?) practice room, nodding and opening the door for you.
"unnie!" you were immediately crushed by the tall girl. you think the cramp in your spine was fixed by her intense embrace.
she gave you an excited look. "why're you here?"
you held up the box, dangling it in front of her eyes. "you forgot your lunch."
she took it from you with a straight face, but then changed the topic without saying anything else. what the...
"meet my members!" hyein stepped aside, revealing four girls who looked almost as confused as you were.
but they were all very pretty, you noted. especially that girl on the right, with the bangs. and those pretty eyes. and ah...
'oh my fucking god.'
"y/n!?"
"h-hanni!?"
you stood there in shock. out of all the places you could meet again, it was at your cousin's workplace? and, it turned out that they even worked together?
you were pulled into the practice room, and now you were sitting on a metal folding chair, in an icebreaker circle that took you back to middle school. it all happened in a blur, one second you were staring at hanni and the other you were forced into a chair by hyein. everyone else looked slightly uncomfortable as well.
"this is y/n, my older cousin!" she introduced you to the other girls. then, she pointed to them one by one.
"this is haerin-unnie." the cat-eyed girl nodded at you.
"minji-unnie." she waved, offering you a tight lipped smile.
"dani... danielle-unnie." she also waved, though with much more energy and a wider smile. cute.
"and this is hanni-unnie, but i suppose you two are acquainted already."
you ignored how hyein's posture became stiffer and how she suddenly started talking in a formal tone, like what she did when she was starting to plot something.
nonetheless, you bowed in your seat and waved. "i'm lee y/n... incoming first year at seoul national university. i'm looking to major in painting."
there was a brief period of silence, and you awkwardly traced the bruise you got two days ago through the hole in your jeans.
danielle(?) started clapping, the other members (including hyein) following suit.
"can we see some of your works?" she excitedly asked. you, once again, found it hard to resist a pretty girl.
"yeah, for sure!" fishing your phone out of your pocket, you pulled up the album titled 'finished paintings' and chose a landscape painting of the blue mountains which you did on a short vacation to newcastle in march. you used the pictures your dad took on his professional camera as reference, and it ended up being one of your best projects in your portfolio.
you tilted your phone horizontally so they could see the full piece, chest swelling with pride when their faces lit up with wonder.
"it's beautiful," minji commented, her eyes trailing from your phone screen to you. you blushed at the sudden eye contact.
danielle loudly gasped, shaking hanni back and forth. "oh my gosh, it's the blue mountains!"
another aussie?
"yeah, went there during a trip to newcastle," you replied in english. the girl's eyes seemed to light up even more, if that was possible. her smile became so blinding that you felt you had to shield your eyes.
"newcastle!" she pointed to herself, "that's where i'm from!"
"really? it's so pretty there, especially by the beaches," you said. "i wish i could go back and paint the views."
your stomach growled. right... you hadn't eaten since way earlier in the morning. you scratched your neck in embarrassment when haerin and hyein started giggling.
"have you girls had lunch yet?"
at seeing their heads shake 'no', you stood up and stretched your arms back. "wanna go eat something? it's my treat," you suggested. "i think i saw a tonkatsu restaurant on the way here."
the cat eyed girl, haerin, made a sound akin to the squeak of a cat (ironically) and tugged on minji's sleeve. she whispered in the girl's ear, and minji turned to look at danielle and hanni for approval.
"fine with us," she affirmed, sending you a gummy smile. "i'll tell our manager."
hyein poked your shoulder. "what about my lunch?"
"uh... we can watch something tonight and you can eat it then, i guess. i won't tell your mom?"
"deal!"
[hybe -> new area unlocked: tonkatsu restaurant]
the seating arrangement went as follows: haerin, hyein, and danielle on one side of the booth, and minji, you, and hanni on the other side. you mentally braced yourself for kicks from hyein, but your heart also sped up at being next to hanni again.
the group made their orders, you prepared to empty your wallet, and were now engaging in conversation with danielle and hanni. next to you, hyein, minji, and haerin were having a separate conversation—something about sparklers and filming.
"so, danielle," you started, folding a napkin into an unlimited amount of halves. she interrupted you before you could continue, smiling, "you can just call me dani! i find being called my full name a bit... you know."
you nodded in understanding. "dani, so you're australian too? must be nice to have a fellow aussie in your group," you nudged the girl sitting on your right. she nudged you back, but her hand made its way to yours under the table. you tried your best not to freak out.
"yep! speaking of which," danielle pointed between you and the 'fellow aussie'. "how do you two know each other? there was that whole thing when we first saw you and everything."
by now, the other three girls have tuned into your conversation. it seemed that they too, were curious.
the vietnamese was the first to explain. "we met at the airport, after i visited my family. we bumped into each other like, three times before finding out we also sat next to each other on the same flight."
minji raised an eyebrow, "wait, this is the y/n you were talking about?"
hanni looked to the side and tucked her hand behind her ear. she was talking about you?
you gave her hand a squeeze, causing her to look down at your now-intertwined fingers. when did that happen?
across the table, hyein eyed you suspiciously.
thankfully, the food came and you enjoyed your lunch, which sufficiently tamed your prior hunger that led up to this situation. you recounted more of you and hanni's first meeting, but the more you talked the more it felt like you were introducing yourself as her girlfriend.
"wow, is that why you left me on read?"
you snorted. "no, i just wanted to annoy you."
hyein kicked you under the table. you made a mental note to check your foot for another bruise later.
"to be honest," you said to the group after you finished your last bite, directing everyone's attention to yourself. "i didn't think i'd end up spending the afternoon with soon-to-be idols."
next to you, minji laughed. it tickled your brain, the way her deep voice was so sooth and calming.
"i don't think anyone here expected to spend the afternoon dining with our youngest's relative."
you laughed along with her, dabbing at your mouth with a napkin. "but i mean, we'll probably be seeing each other often. i'd love to get to know all of you."
the girls made noises of agreement, either nodding or approving verbally, and soon everyone was done eating. you paid the bill (rest in peace, wallet) and when you came back from the counter, hanni, danielle, and haerin are gone.
"they went to use the restroom," minji informed. you made an 'ahh' expression and gave an 'ok' gesture, and made to sit down to wait for the three. hyein stared at you and minji.
"i think you're really cool, y/n."
you almost did a spit-take with your glass of water. that caught you way off guard. what are you supposed to that?
"...and i was just wondering, could i get your number?"
you blinked. minji blinked. and out of the corner of your eye, you could see that hyein also blinked.
but... who would turn down an offer from a(nother) pretty girl? not you.
so obviously you punched in your digits onto the girl's phone, saving yourself as 'y/n 🎨' and by the time you were done, the rest of the group had returned to the table.
when you and the girls arrived at the company, minji left with a wink toward your direction, danielle and hyein hugged you goodbye, and haerin waved at you. only hanni was left, but both of you were reluctant to go.
"i hung the sketches up in my dorm room."
your eyes slightly widened. "really? i'm glad you like them. it's embarrassing, but you're sort of turning into my muse."
you coughed as to hide your scorching blush. hanni giggled, her cheeks also tinted red.
danielle called for her from the entrance, and you both looked to the building.
"i should go."
"yeah... oh, here." you handed her a torn piece of napkin paper with your number written on it. "my number, 'cause my dumb ass forgot to give it to you earlier."
she pocketed it and sent you an eye smile, before waving and turning around to catch up with her group members.
score!
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one week later and you and minji became quick friends. she was funny, very dry but very funny. and you were too shy to text hanni much despite your show of confidence when you gave her your number.
you also hung out with the oldest member a lot. just the other day, you went to the mall with her and got frozen yogurt, and since the day you met her you've been texting every night. though not as much as you did with minji, of course you hung out with the other girls too, like when you visited the company a second and third time. (coincidentally, it was because hyein had forgotten her lunch, again)
you actually just got back from visiting minji at the dorm. it was your first time there, and you mostly just stayed in her room after being given a tour. (you ignored the disappointment in your heart after finding out hanni had a schedule, and wasn't at home)
hyein already had some of her things moved to her dorm room, but she was allowed a few more days at home until she had to stay there long-term. but lately, you've been noticing her staring at you. it often happened when you were texting or hanging out with minji. you would just see the younger girl stand in the corner of the room, 'distracted' with her phone as soon as you turned to look at her.
you were resting on your bed when the door burst open. startled, you sat bolt upright and turned your attention to whoever rudely interrupted your peaceful hour of doom-scrolling.
"unnie, do you like minji-unnie?"
"what the fu-" you stopped yourself. auntie would scold you if you slipped up in front of her kid. "no! what!?"
"oh." she sat herself next to you on the bed. "but you talk to her all the time. it's like you don't even like hanni-unnie anymore!"
it took you a second to process the younger girl's words until you exploded into a blushing mess. "how- how did you know i like hanni?"
"it's way too obvious," she shrugged.
hyein left the room, leaving you confused, until she came back in with a rolling whiteboard. where did she even get that?
you watched as she wrote on the board with a pink marker. 'operation... confess... to...' wow. you didn't like where this was going. at all. why should you confess? shouldn't she be focused on debuting? you wouldn't want to be a distraction to her. and you're pretty sure she didn't like you like that.
hyein put a bullet point under the heading, the marker squeaking as the ink dried within a second.
you frowned. "i don't think i should confess, hyein. you can put the board away."
she looked disheartened for a moment, but shook it off and faced you. "i'm like, 95% sure she likes you back. she doesn't shut up about you when she's alone in her room. i don't think she knows that we can hear her talking to herself."
choosing to keep quiet, you laid back into bed and covered your face with a pillow. that was a matter to think about later, and it was hard to stop hyein once she'd started.
"let's see... hey, pay attention; this is for everyone's sake!" the pillow was snatched from your hands. you groaned and sat up. guess it wouldn't hurt to at least hear her out. "you should do something to catch her attention."
you scoffed. "like what?"
she finished drawing two stickfigures (you and hanni, presumably) holding hands with an obnoxious amount of hearts surrounding them, and rested her hand on her hip. "you could... mysteriously take her away after one of her schedules?"
"absolutely not! that's kidnapping."
she crossed the prompt off the list. "take her on a romantic tour around the city with a rented double decker bus?"
"i don't have money for that..."
"you don't have to pay for a driver, can't you drive?" hyein pouted.
you sighed. "what's the point of renting it for her then? also, hasn't she been here long enough to know the city? plus, i don't have a korean driver's license yet."
another prompt was crossed off the list, and you waited patiently as hyein thought of another idea.
"you know, the other day..." you blinked, and now she was in front of you. 'oh god.'
a wide grin spread on her face, and you paled. "i saw some window cleaners the other day. they looked like spiderman."
"hyein..."
"and like, that's so cool! you could do that. we could get a harness from that store down the street..."
"hyein, please."
"and a rope from there, too."
"but-"
"don't you want to catch her eye?"
it was tempting. it'd been so long (christmas) since you've done something fun (insane) and hyein knew just how to push your buttons.
...damn this kid.
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from: hany/n supporters mom's favorite child (🐣) added you, haerin, and mj to the group. mom's favorite child (🐣) heyy 😍 you what is this 🙁 mj ^ haerin ^ mom's favorite child (🐣) planning for hany/n to succeed also dani unnie isnt here bc she cant keep a secret mj oh finally mom's favorite child (🐣) updates will be here 😈
over the next few days, you'd been spending more time at the newjeans dorm, discussing the "plan" in depth with minji, haerin, and hyein. whenever danielle and, you smiled, hanni, dropped by, you always just changed the topic and let them join the circle, leaving the discussion to be finished in the groupchat or the next day.
but hanni's schedules had slowed down, and she was at home more often. on the other hand, it was haerin and hyein's turn to be busy, leading to you and minji hanging out on your own.
it was clear that you and the taller girl had grown way closer since your first encounter, to the point that you could joke around with her with no repercussions or shame. this year's sketchbook was a gift from minji, and the first few pages were drawings of her as a show of courtesy from you.
minji was slowly becoming your best friend since moving to korea long-term. back in australia, you didn't have a best friend, just some people that would tolerate and get along with you. but you could really connect with the stupidly tall girl that reminded you of a bear.
naturally, neither you nor minji didn't think that hanni would pay any mind to your blooming friendship.
according to minji three days later, you were wrong.
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"this is giving me deja vu," you grinned at hyein, who was currently fastening the straps of your climbing harness bought from the sports shop close to hyein's home.
she rolled her eyes, tapping your helmet. this time, there would (hopefully) be no injuries. or splinters... you hated splinters.
"i'm gonna go back to them, i'll let you know where we are so you can drop down with your," she gestured to the piece of cardstock which you decorated last night, "poster."
the ropes were checked for secureness for a seventh time, and you were assisted with being lowered down the side of the building before hyein descended the stairs and to the elevator which would take her to the second floor.
[||] hanni
"what's up with you and y/n?" hanni questioned minji. it's not like she was jealous, or anything. not of how minji got close to you faster than she did, and hanni was the one to spend a whole day with you, alone, with no interruptions before they even found out you were connected. not of how she could hear the two of you laughing away at night, sometimes even including hyein and haerin in your little hanging out sessions. not of how you flashed minji, not her, minji, your signature smile which made her heart go ten times faster, because she had gifted you with a new sketchbook to replace last year's.
okay, maybe she was jealous. just a little bit.
but it didn't help how you called her 'mj' so naturally, like you'd known her for years before. or how you always snuck off or changed the topic whenever hanni appeared, acting like you were talking about something else even though she knew you weren't.
"huh?" the taller girl stopped in front of the window at the end of one of the second floor corridors. hanni tutted, "it's like you're... you're dating! or something."
minji froze, mouth agape. that wasn't a good sign. but then she started laughing like a crazy woman, making hanni even more frustrated.
"we're not dating. i don't like anyone," she paused, a shit-eating grin slowly overtaking her face. hanni scowled. "what, were you jealous i'd steal away your c-r-u-s-h?"
she dodged hanni's punch to the shoulder, still laughing at the absurdity that was her friend's thoughts.
"but you guys are so close. and hang out all the time," hanni emphasized, making wild gestures in the air with her hands.
that would be a fair point. but to minji, letting her win would be the end of the world.
"that's because-"
"hey guys!" the sounds of three sets of footsteps became louder upon approaching the pair.
"hey, hyein. hey, haerin, danielle." minji greeted, turning to the window as if she were looking for something. haerin and hyein joined her from behind. 'what the fuck?'
"what are you guys doing?" danielle asked, trying to tiptoe to see over their shoulders. unfortunately, she couldn't get past the obstacles that were freakishly tall giants named lee hyein and kim minji.
sighing, she stepped back to face the vietnamese girl, with a pout. "oh yeah, what were you talking about? we watched you try to punch minji earlier."
"it wouldn't hurt to ask for a third opinion," she mused. "do you think there's something between y/n and minji?"
danielle's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "y/n and minji?"
"i mean... they do spend a lot of time together. but i don't think... she—minji i mean—likes y/n like that. actually, it also seems like y/n's got a different vibe to her when she's with minji, but it's not a romantic feeling-y one, you know?"
drats.
"there she is!" hyein shouted, pointing at something that hanni couldn't see from where she was.
haerin quietly dragged her by the hand to join them in looking at the thing hyein was pointing at and- was that you!?
hanging from a rope that did not look like it supported your weight, there you were, in all your glory, outside of the window holding a sign that hanni had to squint to read.
"what the heck," she pressed her hands into the glass. "why is she outside of the window? also, is that rope even secure? and," she was nudged by minji.
"read the sign, bro."
she grumbled but squinted more to make out the words on the paper. there were flowers painted onto it, with two stickfigures holding hands, and the letters written in bold...
"han, let me take U on a d8 <3" with two comically large exclamation marks following after. han? as in, her? hanni? hanni pham who you met two weeks ago? on a date? a date!
hanni was about to shout her answer until she realized you literally couldn't hear her, because there was a window separating you two, and the rope snapped.
the rope snapped! you just fell down the side of the building! what the hell!
next thing she knew she was running out the lobby and on her way to the hospital while the ambulance carried hyein and your unconscious body.
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white walls. blinding lights. faint smell of disinfectant. it had been a while since the last time you landed in the hospital.
except you don't recall the absence of a cartoonish hygiene poster that was always visible immediately when you woke up. or the presence of another girl resting her head on the side of your bed topped with plain white sheets.
on the other side of the door, you could just barely hear two people conversing in korean.
that's right, you were in korea, not melbourne. and you'd fallen from the building after the rope holding you up had snapped.
you knew you were the definition of "fucked around and found out" but... holy shit, your body hurts like hell. looking down, you could see that your right leg was in a cast, and you were unable to move your upper body, feeling immense pain whenever you tried. to add on, there were many, many, bruises along your arms and from what you could see, your other, non-broken leg.
normally, your mother would barge in at this time, scolding you for doing something stupid again. but it wasn't "normally" today. a warm, wet sensation, a tear, rolled down your cheek. maybe it was the pain that finally triggered it, but it was the first time you cried since leaving your home for college.
"fuck," you murmured, lifting up your arm that wasn't occupied to wipe away the waterfall of tears that threatened to burst. in doing so, the girl holding onto your hand shifted. she scrunched her nose, wiping the sleep away from her eyes, and you could finally see her face. hanni. why was she here?
she stopped and stared at you for a moment before her eyes widened. "you're awake! you're- hold on, i'm- here's some water."
hanni helped you sit up, your upper body burning in pain, and you gulped the liquid down in seconds, gratefully handing the glass back to her.
"are you feeling okay?"
that was a good question. "i feel like shit."
she burst out in laughter, and you tried to as well, but ended up groaning in pain. damned body. you felt soothing rubs on your back from hanni, and you shot her an endearing smile. her actions made you feel all warm inside. like a cozy campfire on a cold, dark night.
"be careful," hanni chided, "you broke two of your ribs. and if you didn't know already, your leg too." that explained the extreme pain when you laughed.
you fell into a silence, getting lost in the girl's eyes before she coughed, blushing. "careful, can't have you falling before the first date."
breaking out into a dopey grin, you squeezed her hand. "i'm afraid i've already fallen."
"well then you better hurry up and get better so you can take me out on that date you promised, before you ended up here."
date? promised? the... the... what was it... you searched the depths of your sluggish mind, which was really hard considering you woke up five minutes ago.
sign. the... sign? oh, she saw it! the sign that you and hyein had stayed up making yesterday, to ask hanni out. it was a last minute thing, since you kept putting it off and forgot about it before last night.
a pair of lips pressed onto your cheek, but left as fast as they came. you snapped your head to hanni, touching the affected area with your palm.
without thinking, you surged forward and crashed your lips together, melting into a (not so) perfect kiss, but it sure felt perfect to you. hanni kissed back with even more fervor, hands tangled in your hair and leg moving in a slight crawl in an attempt to get closer to you without hurting you.
you pulled away, stupid smiles on both of your faces.
"you have no idea how long i've been wanting to do that," you said, sneaking in another peck on her lips.
"you have no idea how long i've been wanting to kiss you." she said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
an idea popped up in your head after spotting your sketchbook on the table next to your hospital bed. you'd been wanting to paint her properly since the first time you drew her on the plane. "han, let me paint you. please? after i get discharged, whenever that is."
she blushed, blinking at you without saying a word. then, she pulled you into a short, but sweet kiss, and pulled away to plant a small kiss on top of your intertwined hands. you recalled minji saying something about hanni's strong distaste for kisses, but her behavior at the moment was contradicting minji's words.
"you'll have much more time to paint me, wherever, whenever you want."
you giggled, giving a squeeze to her hand. "does this mean i get sneak peeks of songs?"
"no."
"aw..."
"...maybe a little. just a little bit, because i like you so much."
you pumped your fist, whispering a "yes!" before she captured your lips in another passionate kiss.
"i like you a lot, too. more than painting. wait..."
"y/n!"
you, lee y/n, were a girl who could not get a girlfriend no matter what you tried. but on that fateful day, the day you met hanni, you only had the stars and fate to thank for letting you meet the love of your life.
10 hours, in the sky, let hanni pham wiggle her way into your life. and you had to say, it was a change for the better.
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a/n : i'm finally done... THIS was hell to write let me tell you omg it's been in my drafts since early january GOODBYEE but now i can focus on all my other stuff so....... chaewon next! LOL (and also lovergirl pt. 2 i didn't forget i swear) thank you so much for reading 10 hour flight, sorry it's so long it wasn't supposed to be 😭 ily guys
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digital-domain · 3 days
Text
Retrieval
Alastor x Reader // word count 4.4k
Pt 3 to Spring Cleaning and Clean Slate
In which you attempt to leave.
Tags/warnings: yandere, intimidation, noncon kissing, choking, Alastor’s shadow doing things a shadow should not be able to do
A/N: Really thought this was gonna be a one-off but here we are. I usually don’t even write one follow-up, much less two, so this is unfamiliar terrain for me. Alas, I could not resist. Enjoy (or don’t. I’m not in charge.)
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You remember a time when this was good. Well - no. You’re sure, now, that it was rotten from the beginning. But there was a time when it felt good. When you invited it in. When you wanted more.
Time for bed, my dear. 
He’s said this to you many times. Now, each repetition deepens the never-ending pit in your stomach. But the first time…how long ago was it? You don’t remember. You don’t even remember how long you’ve been here. Here at this hotel, or here, in hell - each one distorts hours and months in its own way. They tug at you until you slip through the fingers of time, and end up on a day you don’t remember arriving at, in a place that is only yours if you forget what has happened there.
It’s far too late for you to be thinking as deeply as you are.
You’d been sitting on the top of the stairs for a long time that night, however-long-ago, fending off the inevitable onset of your dreams. He’d been gone all day, and when he had finally returned (from where, you never found out), he’d seen you from the lobby. Called out to you, in a voice far too quiet and gentle to carry to your ears as well as it did. It wasn’t the first time he’d spoken to you, but it was the first time he’d spoken to you alone. And even if that wasn’t true, there would have been something different about it. 
And, in my opinion, far too fair a night for such misery.
From the beginning, you’d known that nothing about him was entirely unfiltered. The first time you’d met, he’d given a wonderful little performance. Shaken your hand, taken you by the shoulder, quickly escorted you away from the people who would soon warn you not to trust him. And you’d known it was fake. Of course you had. You weren’t, perhaps, the most excellent judge of character, but you knew no one acted like that by instinct. It was calculated. Not to be trusted.
It struck you oddly, then, to hear such an allegedly inhuman character talk about something as mundane as the joy of pleasant weather. It felt entirely real, even at an hour when almost nothing seemed real at all. Hell did have its decent moments, now and then; there were no seasons, so to speak, but very occasionally you’d get a day that felt like summer, and a night to match. It was nice, when it happened. Delightful, even. 
But, if you insist upon staying awake - and I admit, I do understand that impulse better than most - I suggest you do it somewhere with an open window. 
The realization had hit, somewhere in the middle of this, that he was being kind to you. You hadn’t wondered why at the time. You’d take anything you could get, in those early, confused days after your death, and receiving it from an unexpected source somehow made it better. He didn’t do things like this out of obligation. He cared, for some reason you could only guess at.
You’re still guessing, now. But that night, you hadn’t thought so deeply about it. You’d only stared back at him, and nodded almost imperceptibly at his suggestion. 
He’d paused, matching your silence for a long stretch. Considered your expression, in the way those unblinking eyes always seemed uniquely suited for.
Shall I escort you to your room, my dear?
You’d nodded mutely, and he’d ascended the stairs, offered you his hand, helped you to your feet, guided you to your door.
And then, a mistake. Grateful, exhausted, feeling utterly alone in a strange world - you’d invited him in. 
He’d opened your window for you, and lingered beside it for several quiet seconds before you asked him to sit down in your desk chair. He’d smiled strangely at that, softer than you were used to, and left quickly, almost hastily, after only a few minutes. But he’d stood motionless in the hallway for several seconds before you’d heard him walk away. 
After that night, you never invited him in again - you didn’t have to. He came of his own accord. Only occasionally, at first. Then, more often, until hardly a day went by without it. It was almost pleasant, at first, and then a slow, unyielding creep towards what you have now. Something you don’t understand. Something you only started resenting after it was too late to back away. 
You’ve spent a long time wondering why he chose you, of all people. Why he feels so entitled to your space, to your life, why he wants it to begin with. Why he holds onto you so tightly. You’ve even asked him, in roundabout ways, to no avail. But somewhere in your mind, a shoved-down place that only now rises to the surface, you think that it might be your fault. Your fault, for being so desperate for solace, for company, that you’d take it from anyone you could. For feeling proud to have gained his attention, long after the point where it stopped doing you any good.
Now, lying above your bed covers, you toy with the hem of your slip, which you’ve absently pulled up to mid-thigh. Perhaps you don’t need to be wearing it tonight. Alastor has been mysteriously absent from the hotel in the two days that have passed since his last appearance in your room. You doubt whatever’s called him away has left him much time for spying upon you. And still, you feel compelled to act as if he is watching. As if he might return to your bedside at any moment.
Your memory flashes back to two nights ago, and you try to yank it away. You don’t want to think about what he did to you then. You certainly don’t want to think about why. The way his eyes were fixed not on your body, but on your face, as if it was your shame he wanted to see, and nothing more.
It was unsettling. But perhaps not surprising. If it was only your body that he wanted, after all, he wouldn’t be trying so hard to control the rest of you. That, you don’t understand. That - it’s what really keeps you awake.
The light from your lamp, which you have no intention of turning off, stings beneath your closed eyes as you lie rigidly on your back. You barely slept the night before, either, so this day passed in a sort of stupor, the adrenaline of early morning giving way to a numb, heavy feeling as the afternoon dragged on.
But the numbness is good, in a way, you think. It lets you do things you wouldn’t otherwise. With your eyes still closed, you bring your other hand to the hem of the slip. The lace and the silk above it are delicate, and you pull hard with both fists. The light ripping noise that follows is beautiful, for a moment.
Then, the familiar dread snaps back into place, worse for your act of stupidity. 
He will be back, before long. His sudden absence has not been a reprieve, but a looming threat, a two-day stretch in which you have not taken one proper breath, and you have the feeling that he will know what you have done the moment he returns. 
If he does not somehow know already. If you haven’t already summoned him back by the rebellious movements of your hands. There is panic coursing through you, fear not of what is here now but of what has been, and what will be. It’s not the panic you’d feel at an immediate threat, like a wild animal baring down on you in a dark forest - instead, it’s the sort of inescapable head-buzzing sensation you experienced often in life, when you’d been in a room for far too long, and were not yet allowed to leave. An overwhelming feeling that you are trapped, not by physical bonds, but by the consequences that might ensue if you walk away.
If you were to walk away, to run away…what would happen? You do not know, and you don’t want to think about it. You want to leave. No - you need to leave. If you do not do it now, now, you never will. And the idea of never leaving, of this stretching on until he decides that it’s time for it to end - if he ever does -
You sit up, and swing your legs over the edge of your bed. He will be back soon. You’re sure of it. And you cannot bear the thought of being here when he returns. 
What can you do about it? You can do something. You can stand up. You can find the large backpack stuffed into the corner of your closet, and start shoving things inside. You don’t have many things at all, and most of the things you do have are not important enough to keep. You’re certainly not bringing any of these clothes with you. 
All these things, you do quickly, in a sort of daze, driven by a single motive. Get out, get out. It is easy, if you don’t stop moving. If you don’t think more than you have to, if you let this one idea drive you all the way out the door. One set of clothes, you do have to bring - the one that goes on your body. The only one that you feel even remotely comfortable wearing. Black trousers, red sweater. The contents of the small compartments of your dresser have been replaced, so you do not feel comfortable with the things you are wearing underneath these clothes, but they are quickly hidden. You are not in strong enough possession of your body to feel them clinging to your skin.
You’ve discarded the slip onto the floor, and with the way it’s crumpled, you can’t even see the small rip in the hem. It’s not enough. You pick it up and rip it further, until it is torn all the way to the neck, before dropping it like it’s on fire. Perhaps it would be better to take it with you, to get rid of it in a place where he won’t see the remains, but you do not want to have it for a second longer. It flutters back to the floor, and you cover your clean, white, unfamiliar socks with the ragged sneakers you’ve somehow been allowed to keep. 
Where do you go? Where can you go? For reasons that you certainly didn’t come up with yourself (reasons that seemed like cloying but utterly convincing advice, at the time) you barely speak to anyone outside of these walls. You haven’t even got a phone. And even if you did, you can’t imagine pulling anyone into this mess - your mess, a quiet voice in your head reminds you. This is your creation, and you will see it through alone. There is a motel, you remember, a shoddy building a few streets away that you’ve taken notice of every time you’ve passed. You will go there, and you will sleep, and tomorrow -
Tomorrow does not matter yet. Tonight, you only need to leave. 
You’re sure that no one in this building is awake. Or at least, no one is awake enough to check on the noises your feet make as they collide, painfully loud, over and over, with the creaking hallway floor. And yet, you advance as slowly and carefully as you can manage, barely keeping at bay the adrenaline that urges you to run. The night is pleasantly warm, but a shudder runs through you as you crack open the front door of the sleeping hotel. This, too, you keep at bay, instructing your feet to keep moving until you dislodge the disarming chill from your bones, and settle back into your skin. You are walking quickly, but not running, as you wade into the dark streets before you. It is a bad idea, being out here alone, at this hour, and running is loud. 
Then again, you think your breathing might be harsher, at this moment, than any noise the soles of your shoes could create.
You didn’t realize until now that you already had this route mapped out in your head, so clearly that you can follow it without thinking. It’s not far. Quicker if you slide through the little alley to your left. Quicker still if you speed up, just a bit, just enough that your breath catches oddly in your throat, exertion mixing with the faintest glimmer of hope. There is a breeze flowing out from behind you, gentle against the nape of your neck. The streets are mercifully quiet. 
You are not thinking. If you were, you might not be able to tell yourself that all was well. 
As it is, you buy yourself a few more seconds of hope. But your eyes are wide. Too wide and too alert to miss the strange thing that comes your way. Once you see it, you cannot look anywhere else.
Your stomach drops. You slowly ease your bag off of your shoulders, and let it fall to the ground beside you. You will not be taking it any further than here.
You know this, because there is an inexplicable shadow pressed against the side of the alley. It is cast by nothing, darker than the night that surrounds it. A long, abstract shape unfurls bit by bit, extends its tendrils across the worn brick, and drips down until it spills onto the polished boots that have appeared suddenly on the ground in front of you. 
There’s a horribly familiar sigh, but no words. No touch. Not yet.
Soon. Too soon, you’ll hear his voice.
But you find that you do not have the impulse to scream, like anyone else might in this situation. Nor do you want to run. You do not want to take so much as a step backwards. You do not do these things, because you are not scared like you might have expected. No. The thing that quickens your pulse is not fear, but anger. You were so close. You could have made it. And you should have made it.
You should not have had to run to begin with.
You answer a question that you didn’t realize you were asking until this moment. This is not your fault. None of it. Nothing that makes you feel like this could possibly be your doing alone. So, instead of looking up and apologizing, you stare at the ground, and imagine that your eyes shine as intensely as the ones above you. It’s a striking contrast, your worn, comfortable shoes toe-to-toe with polished leather. A victory, in its own small way.
You feel Alastor lean over you, and your hands curl into fists of their own accord. 
“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs, his voice deceptively calm, “what a terrible risk you’ve taken?”
“Some idea.” You’re seething, just as you know he must be underneath the surface - the only difference is that you aren’t bothering to hide it. “You’ll forgive me.”
“Oh…I’m not talking about my own impulses, my dear. Running was a terrible idea for many reasons.” His glove catches you beneath your jaw - you press back against it for a moment before following its guide. Before looking up into the eyes you never wanted to see again, and the grin that bears down upon you. “You might find it hard to wrap your head around, considering its current misguided state, but I assure you that I am far from the only threat that the nights of hell have to offer.”
“But you are a threat.” He’s shown his hand, you think. It’s satisfying to point out - until it’s thrown back in your face. 
“Only when provoked, darling.” His eyes are a brighter red than you’ve ever seen them, glowing with some intense emotion - whether it’s hatred or a deep appreciation, you don’t know, and will never know. He releases your jaw, runs his finger slowly down the line of your neck. “But you’ve no need to worry…it would take quite a lot of provocation for me to hurt you. Even now, I’m not even close to taking such drastic action.” 
Your teeth grind together, clenched as tightly as his pasted-on smile, as the fist wrapped around his staff. “You think you haven’t hurt me already?”
“Oh, my.” He laughs gently, dismissively - but it’s not quite as convincing as usual. He’s standing rigidly, pressing the bottom of his staff tightly against the ground, holding his free hand not behind his back, but at his side. Fingers stiffly curled, practically trembling with the effort of holding still, as if they’re itching to grab onto something.“You are feeling bold tonight. Not as if I couldn’t tell by the little present you left behind in your room…but it is rather strange to experience it in person. You’re usually such a sweetheart.”
You tune out the syrupy condescension of his voice. You’re done with listening to him. Done with beating around the bush, done with getting brushed aside again and again. “What do you want from me?”
“Cliches don’t suit you, my dear,” he intones darkly. “Especially not when paired with that expression.” He slowly raises his hand, and reaches for your face, as if he hopes to rearrange the features he finds so unpleasant. Without a second thought, you jerk backwards, and slap his hand away.
He holds it frozen. Poised in midair. The last time this happened, it was enough to make you tug back everything you’d just done. 
Not this time.
“What,” you hiss, taking another full step back, “do you want from me?”
The corner of his grin twitches so severely that you can almost imagine it dropping from his face. “At the moment, I only wish for you to return home.”
“That’s not what I mean.” You hold your fists at your sides. Spine straight, shoulders pressed back. Toes curled inside your shoes. You can feel the unfamiliar undergarments clinging to your hips, your ribcage - you want them gone. You want him gone. 
“Then pray tell, my dear”-
“All of it.” You hold his gaze as his head tilts slowly to one side. Listen to the cracking of bones, and press on, before you can think better of it. “You won’t let me go. You can’t. And I don’t even get to know why.” There’s a desperation in your voice, rising with the volume of it, quickly spiraling out of your control. “All I know is that you’re - you’re trying to control me, and that I hate it, and that I don’t fucking understand it.”
Images from two nights before descend upon your mind, and your train of thought comes entirely undone. It’s more than images, really. You can certainly picture him standing over you, his red eyes flaring as you stripped yourself bare in front of him, but you can also feel it, the awful heat under your skin battling with the chill of the air, the brush of his finger along your hip, the gentle kiss to your forehead. The hands pulled tightly behind his back. And the way you felt then, the thing you’d be afraid of, if it was anyone else.
“You - you don’t”- You feel strangely distant from your body, as if your mind is a separate entity, floating somewhere slightly outside of your skull. Your mouth takes a sharp breath, and more words cascade out before you can return to stop them. “I was fucking naked in front of you, and you didn’t feel anything. If you don’t want - that”-
Any other stupid words you might say are cut off by a rising buzz of static, which emanates from him as his staff disappears before your eyes, and his newly-free hand takes on the stiff, barely-restrained posture of the other. You wonder, in that detached manner your thoughts take on when you are frightened, if he’s doing this on purpose, or if it’s somehow leaking out in a way that’s beyond his control. 
You feel tears welling in your eyes, and try in vain to shove them back down. You don’t know where they came from. “I don’t understand.” 
For the first time, you see his grin drop - not all the way, but enough that the line of it changes, enough that it becomes a grimace. It’s so unsettling that you wish the usual, terrible smile would return. “That much is obvious, my dear. I wonder if you even realize how tragic what you just said really was.”
You freeze as your wrists are snatched by coils of shadow, smooth and inexplicably solid. Your arms are yanked straight down, and when you try to tear them away, you fail. Your hands are free to form fists, but remain trapped against your sides.
“That you can only fathom being desired in such a shallow way…”
His image flickers before you. You’re already half-turned around when he reappears behind you a moment later, but there’s nothing you can do to stop his hands from curling, one finger at a time, around your shoulders, far too close to your neck for comfort. You stare straight ahead as his face twists into the periphery of your vision. 
And he whispers in your ear, his voice bare of any effect, just the hint of some old, earthly accent slipping through. “I’m afraid that I want much more than that.” 
He slides around you at the same moment the bonds around your wrists release, and effortlessly turns you by your shoulders - he does not push you against the wall that now stands behind you, but you step back out of instinct and flatten yourself against it. He matches your steps with his own, traps you between himself and the rough brick at your back, and latches his gloved hand beneath your jaw, wrenching your face upwards. With his other hand, he reaches down, flips your palm so that it’s no longer facing the wall and interlocks his fingers with your own. His grin springs back into place, and oh - you wish you could run now. You would, if you could.
His eyes slide away from you for a moment as he puts something together in his head. “These little acts of rebellion from you…I think I ought to thank you for them.” He blinks slowly, and returns his gaze to your face. “I don’t think I would have realized just how close I wanted to keep you, if you hadn’t attempted to leave. And now…oh. I understand perfectly, now. I know exactly what I want.” He bows his head, lowers his lips to your ear, so that you can hear the shudder of his breath. “I’ll have your soul one day, my dear. A day when you’re already bound so tightly to me that such a contract will be a mere formality.” 
“And until that day comes…” He draws back from the side of your face, stares not into your eyes, but through them. His teeth part. His tongue flicks out from between them, and slides quickly over their jagged edges. “I feel as if I’m prepared to do anything, if only it will bring you closer.” 
The last vestiges of your anger burst forth, and you attempt to wrench your face out of his grasp. He lets you, and moves his hand to the back of your neck, his long fingers pressing harshly into the sides. You look up, eyes wide with terror, as the palm that has been flattened against your own releases your hand from the wall, and rises to curl tightly around your waist. 
He pulls you close. You do not see the moment that his smile disappears, as it surely must - your eyes are already closed when he kisses you, screwed tightly shut as his hot, rancid breath works its way into your lungs. There’s a hint of whiskey beneath the rot, and something metallic, the same taste that floods your mouth when you bite the inside of your lip a bit too hard. His hand slides around from the back of your neck, and closes at your throat - he keeps it there after he’s pulled away, and watches as you struggle against his grip. 
“You have a decision to make now, darling.” He takes a deep, satisfied breath, the tension leaving his posture even as you fight to breathe beneath his hand. “You can return all by yourself…” His fingers curl tighter around your neck, and tendrils of shadow lash at your wrists and ankles, slowly twisting their way up your limbs. “Or, I can bring you back. I imagine that would cause quite a scene..but the choice is yours.” He tilts his head, stares down at you through narrowed eyes, and - after another moment of watching you struggle - eases his grip just enough for you to answer.
You don’t hesitate for a moment. Even if you had the air to argue, you wouldn’t dare. “I’ll - come back” -
“Lovely.” He releases you, and takes a step back. Pulls one hand slowly behind him, as if doing so takes a tremendous amount of effort. “Since you’re so attached to your freedom, I’ll allow you to walk back unsupervised.” He traces the back of his other hand gently down your cheek, stopping only briefly to press the tips of his fingers against the hardened clench of your jaw. You let it go slack - only then does he pull his hand away. “But as I told you before, darling…there are many threats lurking in the shadows of these streets. So I do suggest that you watch your step.” 
His image fades away before you. In the same moment that you watch him disappear, there is a shift in the surface under your feet. You no longer feel the familiar soles of your shoes, but the ground beneath, rough with the texture of cracks and debris. Cold. Not damp, exactly, but carrying the faint suggestion of something wet having only recently become dry. 
Your toes curl inside your pristine white socks, which will soon be stained by the filth of the ground beneath them. There’s a new shadow against the wall - it slides along with you as you carefully retrace your steps home.
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