#did I go overboard with white highlights

[sugarxlumps]

All Riled Up

I went overboard with the smut, if that's even a thing. So consider yourselves warned!

CONTENT: explicit, explicit smut,Gojo hard dom, uses his infinity as punishment, gojo being annoying, mating press squirting, choking, degradation, pet names (princess, sweetheart), multiple orgasms, etc.

You were fuming by the second. Gojo has been driving you insane showing up uninvited, crashing your missions, interrupting your training, and all the incessant, teasing comments. At this rate, Nanami wasn't going to grant your promotion… it’s either Gojo’s trying to completely redirect your mission or he takes it upon himself to show off and end it so you two can get something to eat… it’s been going on for over a week now.

Granted, he knew you were more than capable, you didn’t need that promotion from Nanami. He found himself rather jealous you weren’t his student instead. That way he could never take his eyes off you. You were intoxicating to him since the day he laid eyes on you. He had to have you, simply watching wasn’t cutting it.

Just as annoyed you were of him, you knew to keep your head straight. You felt like prey, intimated by his intense six-eyes gaze alone that could swallow you whole, even through his blindfolds glasses. At night you wish he did, when you tossed and turned, with an ache in your belly that couldn’t be satisfied, that you knew could only be satisfied by him. It drove you insane, imagining what he could look like under his black sleek uniform. Or the way his skilled hands would work over your body, the way his tongue could dip into your aching pussy. Or better yet, his c-

“Y/n!” Megumi called you back from your imagination once again. You couldn’t explain it, the more annoyed you were throughout the week, the ache in your belly grew… making you even more annoyed that you couldn’t get rid of it yourself.

“What’s got you riled up?” Megumi grunted, “Your cursed energy just burnt up my books.”

“Oh! Geez, sorry Megumi. I didn’t mean to, I’ve just got a lot on my mind. I’ll get you new ones” you apologized.

As the day ended, you headed over to Gojo’s office to request new books for Megumi, attempting to wrangle in your energy before seeing him. It’s the last thing you needed to hear about right now, especially from the source of it all.

“Hey sweetness, come to give me some company?” He smirked, reclined in his seat with his feet propped on his desk.

“Luckily, no.” You crossed your arms, you annoyance already peaking. “I’ve just come to get some new books for Megumi. His… he needs new ones”

He chuckled “And why couldn’t he get them himself? Are you doing favors for everyone around here but me?” He smirked “I’m jealous”

Your annoyance continues to build, your body heating up “No, I-“ you huff in annoyance, “ I burnt them by accident”

He laughed, standing up from his seat to walk around to the front of the desk, leaning on it with his arms folded over his chest. He still towers over you despite his leaning posture and he looked different out of uniform. Dressed in tan slacks and a white button down shirt, that encased his frame perfectly. Highlighting his neck and chest as he left the top two buttons open. Tapering perfectly to sculpt his broad shoulders. His sleeves rolled up and hugging his forearms, accentuating his veins. You shifted in your stance, trying to resist the temptation to rub your thighs together for relief.

“I can guess how. Seems like someone needs to get their cursed energy in check, hm?” He smirked devilishly

You clenched your jaw, grinding your teeth to the point you thought they might crack. “Well if it weren’t for your incessant annoying face, there wouldn’t be anything to check, Gojo” you spat, finally snapping. Your energy was flaming now.

Gojo simply threw his head back laughing. “Easy, sweetheart.” He raised his hands up in defense. “Now I’d consider it an honor if you’re getting that riled up just for me” he tilted his glasses, his eyes devouring yours. He stepped closer, peering down at you as he fully removed his glasses to reveal his celestial blue orbs.

You glared at him still, no matter how intimidating it was to be standing beneath him, like hunter and prey.

“I wouldn’t. And it’s not just for you, Gojo. Last I checked, the world didn’t revolve around you." you lied through your teeth, refusing to back down.

He chuckled deeply, taking another step toward you, only mere inches from your lips. The heat in your body rises even more, making you uncomfortable as you swallowed for air. His whole demeanor darkened, even his eyes… something… dark hid beneath them.

He licked his lips “Mm is that so? Well,” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, making you gasp in surprise at the contact as he traces it down your neck “Last I checked princess, your world has been revolving around me lately.”

You swear your skin is hot to the touch. You feel your wetness threatening to drip down your legs, wishing you would’ve taken the moment to rub your thighs at the least a little to ease the tension.

“N-no Gojo Sensei.” You mutter as you shake your head timidly.

He laughs darkly, “Sensei? Now you’re getting really desperate.”

He traces his fingers down your arm and over your waist. “I can see right through you, y/n. Your cursed energy is the worst I’ve seen it. I know you're dripping wet and I know you haven’t been able to satisfy yourself. I know you’ve been-“ he sweeps his hand under your skirt, burning a trail up your thigh with his fingers. He slides past your underwear trailing up your stomach. He leans in close to your ear, his breath sending hot shivers down your spine “Thinking about how I’d fuck you right”

You feel dizzy. You whimper softly and grab onto his arm to steady yourself. God he knows just how to push your buttons. So this is what it’s been. This is what you needed.

“If you wanted my attention sweetheart, all you had to do was ask” he chuckled at your reaction. You sighed loudly as he finally kissed you. His hands wrapping around you and roaming you body all at once. It was slow and intense, the way his soft lips melded with yours and the way his hands pressed against you. It was overwhelming, but everything you craved. You moaned into each others mouths, savoring how good you felt against each other, regretting how long you both went without this

His hands ripped the buttons of your uniform, exposing you bra cupping your supple breasts.

“God you’re beautiful” his eyes raked over your face down to your torso.

“But you- you haven’t fully seen me yet” you blush.

“I don’t need to princess, I know you’re perfect. But I agree we should” be smirked, licking his lips. He tore you bra apart as you gasped at his carnal behavior. “See? Perfect.” He said as he sucked and gently tugged on your nipple.

You moaned loudly again, whimpering as he teased you. He kneaded your breasts as he kissed his way up your neck and bit hard, making you bruise to mark you as his own. You hands entangle in his hair and gripped at his expensive shirt.

His hand made its way up your skirt again, his knuckle grinding against your clothed entrance, making your eyes roll as you yelp out another moan. He places a hand over your mouth to muffle you as you grab onto him to brace yourself.

“You’re gonna get us caught baby” he chuckled.

“I-I’m sorry Gojo please. Please just don’t stop, I’ll be quiet” you whine.

“Begging already and I haven’t even begun, huh?” He laughed. “I’d love to show everyone how good I'll make you feel on my cock, but I want your screams to be for my ears only tonight”

He folded his hands, and in the blink of an eye, you were suddenly in his bed. This was really happening. Here, in your professor’s bed. Gojo’s bed.

He wasted no time returning to make marks on your neck, his hands burning trails down your abdomen as he feverishly roams your body. He’s never craved, no, needed anything so badly before. He needed you as much as you needed him, and he was intent on showing you.

He lowered his head down between your thighs, massaging them as he kissed his way down.

You felt like you could explode right then and there, just from this. That the moment he touched you there again you might be done. The heat and tightness in your core was so intense, almost unbearable.

“Easy Angel,” he chuckled sadistically, “I’ll take good care of you.”

He fingered your clothed pussy, the fabric of it rubbing your clit was a different sensation, your mouth opening up in a silent moan. “Though,” he smirked, “I absolutely love how wet you are for me. Looks like you were all riled up just for me after all, huh baby?”

He bit your thigh before lowering himself to press flat licks of his tongue onto your cunt, soaking it more. You gripped his expensive sheets so tightly, tossing and turning your head as he continued. He slid them aside finally getting to see your sweet cunt for himself and his eyes darkened with something beyond lust.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re gonna be the end of me” his hot breaths on your sopping pussy sent shivers down your spine.

He pushed his tongue onto your wet folds, devouring you feverishly, making you scream loudly at the sensations. He groaned into you at the sound of your voice, the vibrations on your folds causing your hips to grind on him for more, but he’s quick to pin you down with his arms pressing your legs to your chest. You feel vulnerable like this, sopping wet and spread out just for him. You never thought you’d be like this, at Gojo’s mercy, begging for his touch.

The heat in your core was building, the tightening feeling in your stomach threatening to snap. He sucked on your clit harshly, then prodded his tongue into your pussy, dragging out a series of moans from you. Meanwhile Gojo’s committing this to memory, all of it. Your screams, the way your skin feels, the way your pussy drips just for him, your sweet taste. He knew he wouldn’t be able to live without it. Your moans we’re so lewd, so desperate, it almost didn’t sound like you.

“G-gojo, I-“ you cry out, “I’m gonna cum!” Every muscle was tightening in your body.

You feel a sudden emptiness where his tongue used to be, quickly snapping your head up to look at him.

Gojo laughs, “You thought I’d let you have it that quick? I wanna play around with you more, pretty girl”

You pout and huff, but quickly grip the bed again as he pushes two fingers into you. You throw your head back and scream in ecstasy. The stretch was so sudden, almost too much, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what his cock would feel like.

Gojo chuckles in satisfaction “Fuck, just as I thought. Your pussy’s so tight princess, it’s sucking my fingers right back in” he fingers you slowly, your legs shaking; but he pressed them open, his bright blue eyes taking in your body.

“And it’s just with two fingers, can’t wait to feel how you’ll wrap around my cock” he teases. The tightness in your core builds again, you legs shaking dangerously as your cries fall upon his ears like a melody.

“Gojo please. I want them off- I need to feel more of you, please” you whine, tears threatening to come to your eyes, but you choke them back.

He chuckles again “we both have been waiting too long for this y/n, I’m gonna make sure I take my damn time with you”

You sigh and roll your eyes in frustration. But he was quick to put his large hand to your throat, quickly silencing you.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” He Gojo growled, making you whimper in submission, his fingers halted inside you still.

“That’s punishment number one princess. You’re gonna be a good girl for me and take what I give you.”

You sigh as your pussy clenches at his new name from you. You wanna hear it again, his eyes boring into yours as he claims you.

He lets out a dark laugh “So you like that, baby? You like being my slut?”

You whine and attempt to nod your head, but he wasn’t satisfied. He grips harder at your neck, “Answer me.” He growls.

“Ah! Yes! Yes, Gojo I’ll be a good girl, I love being your slut!” You scream in desperation. Waiting for him to move his fingers again.

“Mm so good for me.” He smiles, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you, eliciting another groan from you.

“Say my name princess. I’m sure we’ve become comfortable with each other by now” he smirks, licking his lips before delving into your folds as he continues to drag his fingers against the walls of your sopping pussy. You know you’ve already made a mess all over his sheets, but he devours you as to not waste anymore of your sweet juices.

He pushes against your sweet spot with ease, throwing your hands in his hair as he sucks relentlessly on your clit, his fingers continuing to torment your sensitive spot, quickly bringing you into the brink of cumming again.

“Oh my god, fuck- S-Satoru!” He groans hearing your name spill from his mouth, “Satoru, I-I’m gonna cum!” You tense and your pussy tightens even more, the heat in you body rising and the coil in your stomach threatening to snap.

Gojo continues to bully your cunt, continuing to suck on your clit “Come on, slut. Cum all over your senpai’s face” he encourages, bringing you into ecstasy.

Your body tremors as you cum, your screams almost making your throat hurt you’re sure you won’t have a voice tomorrow. You ride out your orgasm, making a mess on his sweet lips as he replaces his fingers with his tongue to collect every drop of you.

As your body winds down and your out of breathe he wipes your mess from his face

“Atta girl, knew you’d be so good for me. You taste so fucking good.”

Gojo tears your panties off with ease, wasting no time to finally lay you bare. His bright cerulean eyes rake over you intensely, studying your body to ingrain it in his head. Your cheeks burn as you avert your gaze.

He gently brings your chin to face him, leaning over you.

“Don’t be shy now sweetness, I’m just getting started. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this” Gojo kisses you intensely, grinding against you and you can feel the large bulge in his pants making you gasp at the sheer size.

He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips, kissing you heatedly swallowing your whines while he massages your breasts and pinches your nipples.

He rises from the bed and undresses, and you pause like a deer in headlights captivated by his god-like torso that he reveals. His broad chest towering over you, your eyes trailing down his chiseled abdomen and down to his v lines. Only until he removes his boxers is when you’re really stunned in awe. Your mouth drops at the sight of it. He’s a truly perfect human being, and he’s here at your fingertips. About to deliver you the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt in your life.

“See something you like, baby?” He teased chuckling, towering his way over you. You crawl over and meet him on the edge of the bed, his overwhelming cock right before you. He grab it gently, making him groan.

“That’s all it took, huh?” You teased, you had no idea what got into you, but seeing him like this under your touch soaked you even more. Here, the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer, your professor, feigning for your touch.

He grabs your hair behind you, tilting your head to look up at him. “Don’t think you want a reminder of who’s in charge here tonight, sweetie.” His other hand traces your jaw, his thumb sweeping over your lips to open your mouth.

“Now open wide and take it like the slut you are”

He pushes your head forward as your mouth wraps around his cock, tears welling in your eyes as he fucks your mouth with it. You relinquished all control and put your hands on his thighs to brace yourself, gagging on his cock trying your best to take in his length, trying your best to open up enough to accommodate his girth. He fights the urge to close his eyes in euphoria, he loves seeing you like this. Vulnerable, eager to please him, your teary doe eyes looking up at him.

“Ugh fuck princess, you suck this cock so fucking good. You like making me feel good, huh?” He bites his lip peering down at you. You look up at him, moaning in agreement, swirling your tongue around him eliciting yet another groan as his grip on your hair tightens.

“Jesus y/n, if you keep going like that you’re gonna make me cum” he groans. You take the opportunity to try to force him deeper, sucking him even more intently. Excited with the thought of him cumming because of you makes you wet and the coil in your tummy begins to tighten.

He groans loudly before pulling you away from his cock, a string of saliva connecting from your lips.

Gojo chuckles, grabbing your cheeks. “Someone WANTED me to cum, huh? What a needy little slut you are, hungry for my cum that bad?” He turns you around to spank you hard, causing you to yelp and whine from the sting of the contact.

He flips you around on your back and slowly sweeps hot kisses over your body, making you squirm with anticipation, but he’s quick to hold you down. He trails up your thighs and lands a kiss on your clit making you yelp.

“Satoru please! You’ve teased me enough! I-I need you inside me!” He whine

“God I love hearing your voice sweetheart. But I’m done teasing when I say I’m done.” He growled harshly, pinning your hands over your head and sucking on your nipple, making you arch your back for more of his touch, anything from him.

He finally reaches down to grab his throbbing cock to put it between you slick folds. You whine at the weight of it. It’s so heavy and thick as he drags it over your clit.

“Satoru, please!” You whine, scratching at his back, bucking your hips to meet his in hopes he’d give in. Instead, he grips your hips tightly, tight enough to leave bruises the next day, and puts his hand to your throat.

“Be fucking patient, angel” he threatened, his eyes darkening onto yours. “Or I’ll really teach you what it’s like to wait”

He slides his thick cock over your clit twice more, lubing himself up before he prods at your entrance and you look down to see it.

“Eyes on me right now princess” he demands. His eyes devour yours as he slowly sinks his cock into your sopping cunt, you both moan loudly. His cock delving deeper into your walls inch by inch and you do nothing but arch your back and dig you nails into his in attempt to tolerate his size.

It seems like forever until he bottoms out, hitting what seemed like far past your cervix.

“God damn baby, f-fuck!” He bit his lip, “your pussy’s so fucking tight for me.” He drags his cock back out, to shove it back into you roughly. He begins fucking you mercilessly, taking no time to pin your legs to your chest, making you scream his name at the spot he’s able to hit, to bully over and over until you’re shaking once again.

He plants harsh kisses in your neck as he continues to thrust into you. Your sinful moans fill his ears and encourages him to fuck you harder, if it was even possible. The room filled with the sounds of the headboard denting the wall, both of your moans, your screams, the sound of your bodies clashing relentlessly. God you loved it. Loved him. Everything he did, everything he was. Your mind was going blank, only thinking of the euphoric sensation of his cock stretching your walls and punishing your sweet spot. It wasn’t long before the heat in your tummy began to build, and it came suddenly.

“Ah! S-Satoru! I-I’m im gonna cum! God please don’t stop! I’m gonna c-cum!”

You grab a hold of him tighter, digging your nails into his back, making him groan aloud.

“C’mon slut. Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock, yeah?” He urged, his hand moving down to play with you clit and you lost all control. Your body shook and you screamed his name like a prayer. Your vision flashed white as your orgasm overwhelmed you, as Gojo continued to fuck you through it. And he didn’t let up.

“You can give me another one, huh sweetheart? I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good in my cock” he promised, continuing to thrust into you as you moan. He kissed you hungrily, as you begin to lose your vision, your mind only focusing on how good Gojo's fucking you,

"Whatta cute face. Only for me, hm? I don't want you making those faces for anyone else, got it?" He growled, toying with your clit to send you over the edge.

Your third orgasm came quick, washing over you again as you trembled in his arms. He slowed his thrusts to allow you to catch your breath.

He slowly pulled out of you, admiring the white ring of cream you’ve left on his cock. Admiring your fucked out state when he’s not even close to being finished with you.

“How are we feeling, sweetness?” He checks in, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear tenderly.

“A-amazing” you managed to breath, your hands placed on his chest. You pussy ached for more already, missing the way his cock filled you just right and clenching around nothing.

“Ready for me to fuck you against this head board, baby?” He smirked. You nodded eagerly, propping yourself against it on all fours, your ass in the air ready for him.

He laughs at your excitement. “Someone’s eager, hm? Why don’t you do it yourself, slut”

You line yourself up with his cock, his tip at your entrance and you move back to meet it, but a force prevents you from impaling yourself on his cock. You try again, and your confusion builds. You look behind you at him in desperation for help, to see he’s not holding you back. Instead, he’s watching you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Satoru?” You questioned warily.

“Punishment number one, angel” he chuckled. You attempt again to try to move back on his cock, your pussy aching even more, clenching tighter and tighter around nothing.

You realized he’s turned his infinity on, and you whimper in frustration. “Don’t underestimate me y/n. You’re getting too greedy baby, where are your manners?”

“P-please, Satoru! I’m begging you, please fuck me. I-I wanna feel how your cock stretches my pussy when your behind me like this, please! Fuck me hard against the headboard” you beg endlessly, as you peer from behind at him, tears now falling past your cheeks. He is eyes rave at the way you beg for him, the way your pussy begs and drips onto his sheets.

He chuckled sadistically “That’s a good girl, wasn’t so hard, hm?” Without warning, he grabs a hold of your hips, and impales on his thick cock, reaching a new depth inside you, you swear you’re gonna burst. You scream loudly, loud enough you’re sure everyone around you heard.

He continues to fuck you hard and thoroughly, making you feel every vein, every inch of his cock, as he memorized every fold of your cunt. “That’ll teach you to mind your place, huh pretty girl? Such a good fucking good girl for me” he grunts.

Tears continue to stream down your cheeks, this time, in response to how overwhelmed you are with the pleasure he’s giving you. Easily, your orgasm threatens to burst, “O-oh my g-god Satoru! Satoru, you’re gonna m-make me c-cum!” You scream, clenching the sheets.

He grabs a hold of your hair, and tugs on it. Helping you up as you grab the headboard, your back pressed to his chest and your head leaning against his.

“You better, slut. C’mon, make a mess for daddy” he growls in your ear. Your eyes widen at his words, and you squirt all over him, dripping against his balls and ruining his sheets even more. You grip the headboard so tight, you’re convinced it’ll break.

“Satoru, Satoru, Satoru!” You yell his name like a mantra. He chuckles in your ear. The second your orgasm slows, he flips you over to your back forcefully, not giving you time to adjust as he enters you again, forcing your legs to your chest.

“S-shit princess, your pussy’s so damn perfect. You’re gonna make me cum” he grunted, thrusting sinfully into you, your moans incoherent and your mind blank.

“Y-yes please, Satoru. P-please cum. Cum inside me!” You whimper, already close to another orgasm as they keep coming.

“Shit baby don’t say that.” He growled, putting a hand to your throat as an attempt to silence you so you don’t drive him over the edge. But your wet cunt is squeezing him ruthlessly and he’s using all of his strength not to give in. He grits his teeth and growls, brutally pounding his cock deep into your cervix at an unforgiving pace. All you could do was whimper and take it, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your brain melts, another orgasm approaching that you didn’t think was possible.

“Ah f-fuck fuck fuck take it baby, I’m gonna make sure you fucking take all of this” your body tightens and your whimpers elevate to screams of his name, your nails digging into his back you were almost positive he bled.

“S-satoru, I-I’m, i-it’s too m-mu-“ you stutter, you can't manage to make out the words

“I know sweetheart, but you can take it for me yeah? Be a good girl and give me one more” Gojo urges, his voice cracking as he struggles to keep himself together, removing his hand from your neck to abuse your clit.

“Oh my god!” You scream, using whatever your throat can muster as your orgasm surges through you, bigger than the previous. Your mind goes numb, existing of nothing but him.

Seeing you cum sets him over the edge, after a few more thrusts to ride your orgasm out, he gives into his own, groaning as he fills you up, yet refusing to look away from you, he wouldn’t miss you in this state, knowing he’s the only one that can put you there.

As he stills inside you, you come down from your high, both of you panting. He pulls out of you, making you moan from the emptiness of where his cock was for the whole night, yet feeling so full from how deep his cum was inside you.

He tenderly kissed your forehead and laid himself next to you. He gently shifted his arm to pull you closer to him, wanting to study your features again. You were breathless looking at him, his touch such a sharp contrast to his actions just minutes ago when he was pounding you.

“So” he smirks, tracing your jaw, “I take it I should annoy you more often, huh?”

#gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojou x reader

[pocketsizedquasar]

how do you draw water so well what the fuck. please tell me your secrets

thank u very much FALSKJFSDJ!!! <3<3 and also uh i honestly like. don't know what to answer besides i did a lot of water studies early on in the production process and i use a lot of references

for me a lot of it is about getting the ~feel~ or the ~vibes~ of it right rather than going for pure realism (and obviously my style isn't like.. realism tm). so . focusing on where the big shapes and shadows and light fall and building up smaller details from there. if you zoom in on a lot of the water in the comic pages it kind of just looks like scribbles, but the whole image altogether conveys the mood and scene and vibes of what i want

i think something i've noticed too over painting lots of different water and looking at different references over the years is how many colors are in it? like you look at a standard photo of waves or whatever and it's dark blue. sure. but even in neutral lighting some of the shadows are more purple or green or even red. some of the highlights are yellowish or pink. some areas are super saturated blue while others are more gray -- the shadows are often some of the most saturated parts, which was counterintuitive at least to me early on. there'll be the smallest flecks of hue variation that you can't really see from far away, but including them contributes to that overall ~vibe~ when looking at it all together. even within splashes or sea spray, there's more than just the white.

and that's not even beginning to consider what the water looks like in different lighting (ie sunset or dusk ahaha or even cloud cover vs sunshine, morning vs afternoon, etc).

i also was lucky enough to grow up in california near the beach and have spent a lot of time around beaches. and, particularly as a Lot of the early comic production was during the early parts of the pandemic, i would spend a lot of time at the beach by myself and just observing the water, so I got a pretty good feel for how the ocean changes color drastically even over the course of a single day, just depending on where the sun is and how many clouds there are and etc etc. most ppl only tend to think of it having special colors at sunrise or sunset, but even over the course of a normal day, there's such a wide range of blues and greens and grays and yellows

and then i try not to go overboard with this or use it too much, but adding like an Add or Overlay blend mode over the water and putting in small strokes of light (yellow or orange or whatever the lighting color is) to give it that feel of translucency/radiance that large bodies of water have. it's a small touch but i feel like whenever i add it it elevates the water from "yeah that's water" to "OUUUGHGH THAT'S WATER," at least for me (these two side by sides are with and without that light layer — it’s also used in the above example)

I also like, don't do all this stuff if the water isn't important to the shot? like if it's just in the background (as it often is, because u know, boat) i sort of just make sure it looks vaguely . wavey . uknow. with some help of procreates wavey brush lol

anyway uh. that might have been a lot / kind of incoherent but i hope that helps hghdsfld?? it's hard for me to describe my process beyond "uh idk i look at it and i make it" adslfkjadskj but i hope this was at least a bit helpful

#ask #quasartalks #long post #art #my art #art tutorial #sort of??? #resident-dumb-fuck #uh. here u go. ihope this helps. if i can clarify anything lmk #undescribed

[nullcanary]

15, 26, 32 for the writer asks! :3

Sorry it took so long to answer, but I've really been chewing on the line that has stuck with me and I may have gone a little overboard.

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

Yes, I write in the margins as well as underline/highlight phrases that stick out. I used to dog-ear pages, but I now have plenty of bookmarks that I regularly use. I read in the bath and at the pool. I do not judge people who do these things. Yes, let's be friends 💌

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

Getting in: Firstly, I'll listen to voice lines, read related canon material. I'll emulate their gestures, facial expressions, and tone of voice. Act them out.

Next, Disco Elysium skills helped out with this one a bit because it really helps to pick apart a character's inner dialogue and mind map. What are the strengths and weaknesses in their intellect, psyche, physique, and motorics? How do they play off each other? How do they clash?

I'll use a grounding technique to settle into my setting: Identifying 5 things said character can see, 4 things they can touch, 3 things they can hear, 2 things they can smell, and 1 thing they can taste.Try to fit into their skin, try to imagine thinking like them.

From there, I try to imagine the emotion they both are trying to convey and conceal. What are they feeling? How do they respond to physical touch? What burdens them? What spark drives them forward? What do they fear most? What do they crave most? If they're in a position of power, how do they maintain control?

Getting out: Crafting something with my hands. Going for a long walk outside. Making a warm cup of tea. Listening to some vinyls. Essentially, separating myself from the character and it's associated media. 

Regret: Oh, but of course…

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

This will not just be a single line. The entire chapter might have been able to exist outside of the story. It feels like a painting, which is fitting given the context of the chapter.

Excerpt from Chapter 15 of Kinesthetic by littlewhitemouse

Noriaki had been lying to himself when he said, if he had ever said, that he had been ‘corrupted’ by anything.  The concept that an outside force can create something inside you that is not already there is a self-deception. Intensify, curate, encourage, maybe alter, but not create. Corruption as a noun is inherent, necessarily pre-existing; corruption as a verb can only be self-directed.  Were Noriaki to explicate his realization of his inherent corruption, he would like to start with his taste in art. Not that that is necessarily the best way to tell the story, but that is what he would like.

.

The stranger was silent. Trying to quash irrational nervousness but not quite managing to keep his curiosity at bay, he looked up at him, turned his neck to gaze up at his height, like he was turning to the sky.  He was staring wordlessly at him, his lips slightly parted. Stilled and subtle, something turned his face soft and white, like satin. He saw with eerie curiosity that it seemed like that face almost didn’t fit him, as if he were wearing a fantastically articulate mask. It seemed as if, almost, he floated above his body, his pale face unnaturally pure and light, an angelic visage coming out of the darkness.  “…Who sent you?” asked the stranger.  Noriaki’s heart suddenly started up. The strangeness of the situation. The surreal, patchwork miasma surrounding the whole situation, a new life starting in a room of graves. What was he saying? “I came here myself,” he told him. A smile spread on his face like a slash of pale yellow watercolor paint, splitting the red waters of his lips on either side.  “But you shall not leave that way,” he said, solemn conviction, and he lifted his arm for Noriaki to grasp. “Shall we?” It was as though he was watching something that should not move extend its clutching hand to him; Lucifer of Liège lifting high his crown and whip. With no manners, no bow or placating grin, he asked him, “Shall we what?”  The only change in the strange stillness of the man’s unearthly pose was his smile spreading into his glittering eyes, which he hadn’t noticed weren’t smiling before. “Go.” 

I found this fic when I was first reexploring fanfiction. I was really into Jotaro/Kakyoin because of the angst and tragedy. This fic… was different.  It was written with a very train-of-thought, loose prose, synesthesia-esque, textural repetition, language of the mind style. In many ways, I kept reading because I couldn’t look away? 

This fic was a formative experience, highlighted by chapter 15 in particular. An analysis of corruption. An ode to historical dark art. The formation of taste for the macabre and grotesque. The exploration of how that shapes one's inner landscape. And furthermore, what another can do to exploit, abuse, and manipulate those feelings. The temptation to interact with a mysterious force that ultimately expects complete and violent devotion.

I think this fic is what relaunched my love for art, for museums, for history. I feel in many ways it was the first thing that made something in my own mind click into place and begin processing both my love for dark art and fiction and the traumas that suppressed my ability to allow myself to enjoy it.

Each referenced piece of art has an attached link with the image, so as to pull you further into the visual scenery, the spiraling descent of this madness and trauma.

When I think of Dio’s “dubious sensuality”, I think of this scene. I think of the raw, defense-crumbling experience of meeting a powerful, influential force within the very setting that has shaped who you are as a person. Someone who you feel sees you exactly the way you wish to be seen and accepted. Noriaki never had a chance. Dio is a living, breathing sculpture that he can explore and in turn, be shaped by. His fault is in thinking he ever had control of the situation. 

I love the character study this provides for Kakyoin. There is a violence, a viciousness, a cruelty that roils underneath his skin, independent of outside forces. 

Knowing Kakyoin as he did now, knowing him to be self-controlled, conspicuous, patient, considerate, it was hard to even recall or explain the cruelty he possessed, not until and whenever he chose to display it again. And again, and again. Kakyoin was cruel on occasion, not as his rule, only when provoked, never without a defensible reason, but he was cruel. He was beat you to the brink of death cruel, but Jotaro understood that. He was also lick my heel and apologize for what you did cruel, which he didn’t understand.

He tries to hold it down, hide it away, in order to atone for his sins, his “corruption”, the horror of what Dio was able to convince him and, later, command him to do. There is an underlying bitterness to it all after the fact. This chapter, these lines, add context to why that is. How exactly Dio shaped him into a weapon. How after escaping and freeing his mind from Dio’s impulses, he recognizes that the cruelty still remains. Sculpted and sharpened. But ultimately, something he will be able to reclaim for himself in a healthier setting with proper reflection, character development, growth, and healing. There's something cathartic about the entire experience.

#asks #fic ask game #sybaritick

[everafterfrisk]

Are the RWBY Mangas Canon?

Going over stuff like the Ice Queendom Manga(2022),RWBY Anthology Manga(2017,RWBY Manga(2015) and Finally "RWBY Official Manga(2018)"

I'd say despite minor changes here and there

They are overall canon to the series

"RWBY Manga(2015)"

-Miles Luna and Kerry Shawcross were involved with this Manga's Development

Ambiguously canon(described by Rooster Teeth as being "not non-canon" and "canon until it's not")

- Ruby's Fight with Cardin emphasizing a flashblack to Ruby's past when Yang had to protect her from the Grimm at a young age which is reflected by Volume 2 Chapter 6 Burning Candle

Yang: (off-screen, while her younger self looks petrified) "There we were: A toddler sleeping in the back of a wagon and a stupid girl too exhausted to even cry for help. We might as well have been served on a silver platter. But, as luck would have it, our uncle showed up just in time".

As the Beowolves leap into the air to devour their young prey, the familiar sound of a gun-scythe follows the sight of them all being cut into pieces by a caped warrior. His bird-haired silhouette fades away to present day, where Yang has just finished drawing a clockwork eye.

-Chapter 3 has Weiss fighting the Arma Gigas and claiming that her father only got her into Beacon due to her proving her capabilities

-Chapter 4 Jacques is confirmed to have faced threats of white fang terrorist activities

☆Weiss highlights this notably in Vol 1 Chapter 15

-Chapter 5 highlights the Black Trailer with Blake and Adam going their separate ways

Chapter 6 has the team being visibly aware of Blake's Ears making this take place at the end of Volume 1 to the start of Volume 2

Chapter 7-8 had Yang's Fight with Junior like the Yellow Trailer

Chapter 10 provided more Blake and Ruby bonding moments like

☆Blake encouraging Ruby's interest in Weapons during their fight against the Eight Headed Grimm Snake

Rwby "Official Manga"

(2018)

- Glinda saving Ruby during her encounter with Roman & Cinder

Just like in V1 Chapter 1 "Ruby Rose"

- Chapter 4-5 Team Rwby & JNPR worked together against the Grimm Bird like the Chess and pieces episode

- Chapter 6 Encountered Sun Wukong in the same way as like in "The Stray"

Rwby IQ Manga(2022-)

- ^ Chapter 1 gives insight of the Creation of Crescent Rose prior the beginning of the series alluding to Volume 1 Chapter 3 "The Shining Beacon"

Ruby: (giggling)"Well, I'm kind of a dork when it comes to weapons, sooo... I guess I did go a little overboard when designing it".

- Ozpin's Mention of Ruby's silver eyes as well as expanding on that scene

How there were Silver Eyed Warriors in the past who have been legends and expressing a similar line in Canon that Strength alone doesn't guarantee Victory

- Expanding on Yang & Ruby's Home life with Taiyang as well as Tai & Oz having some sort of history together[Alluding to his time as Team STRQ]

-the Appearance of Zwei,Ruby's dog, lives with them at home

Reference to Volume 2 Chapter 5 Field Trip

Yang: I don't know yet. Dad sent it to us. I thought we could open it together!

Ruby: Ooooh! Something from home!

Ruby zooms over to Yang and wraps herself around Yang, trying to take the cylinder from her. The package opens, and another cylinder, hairy and black, falls out onto the floor and starts to shake. The object suddenly transforms into a corgi. Team RWBY leans in, staring at it.

The animal barks twice. While Weiss and Blake continue to react with great shock, Ruby and Yang react excitedly, with Ruby jumping in the air. Ruby, still airborne, is depicted among a changing blue background and four shots of the dog, two full body shots and two headshots. She then poses as she shouts the dog's name.

Ruby: Zwei!

Blake: He sent a dog?

Weiss: In the mail?

- Chapter 2 has Weiss fighting the Arma Gigas just as she's done in the White Trailer and within the Icequeendom anime

-Adds onto Weiss's Rocky relationship with Whitley [Whitley making fun of her for failing to live up to expectations during her Arma Gigas]

-Weiss's/Ruby's argument are more or less the same

-chapter 3 has Weiss doubt Ruby's leadership skills like in the OG & IQ series

Rwby Anthology (2017)

stated, by Kerry and Gray, to be "very much in tune with the show" and that "very minimal feedback had to be given on canon stuff".(26:15)

As well as side stories they didn't have time to put into the show

Red like Roses: Volume 1

-in the "partner" side story,Roman was taken into custody and RWBY & Co are at the school dance

☆Referencing the Episode "Dance Dance Infiltration"Vol 2 Chapter 7

In the "Just trying to help" side story, Weiss confirms that Ruby and Cardin has fought before

☆ Referring to the Cardin v Ruby fight from the (2015) Manga

Mirror Mirror: Volume 2

- in "Snow White's Melancholy" & "The princess, Showcases Weiss's Neglection from childhood

- in the "Who is the Ice Queen meeting?" Side story, Weiss is shown training in secret so she wouldn't be considered a liability due to her loss against the White Fang Grunt

☆Referencing Vol 2 Chapter 11 "No Brakes"

- in the "Soft Warm Ears" side story,Weiss is still adjusting to the new change that Blake was a faunus and at the end she begins to embrace it freely (touching Blake's Ears).

☆Takes place after the events of Vol 1 Chapter 15 "The Stray"

-In "The Moon" side story, Weiss has a talk with Winter about her training and making connections

☆Referencing Vol 3 Chapter 3 "It's Brawl in the Family" & Chapter 4 "Lesson Learned"

From Shadows: Volume 3

In "the Monster" sidestory,Goes other Blake's Grim past as a white fang member with Adam remarking Faunus as Monsters

It also expands more on Ruby's & Blake's relationship

+Where Blake recalls her convo with Ruby in Vol 1 Chapter 3 and wanted to learn me about Ruby's way of thinking as she believed that just this once

A Fairytale can become reality.

In "Friend" Blake connects with a lost cat and ended up happily crying after he found his new home

+Which could parallel how Team RWBY became Blake's "new home"

In "Curosity killed the Cat" side story, Weiss mentions a train accident

☆Most likely alluding to Volume 2 "No Brakes"

In "Proof of a Black Cat", Yang provides Blake a way to open up more leading to Blake to be a bit less pessimistic and welcoming her as a teammate [Seemingly after Burning Candle]

I Burn:Volume 4

In "You can't have that bear", Yang battles and is fully aware of Melanie & Miltia

☆The Twin sisters she fought against in Junior's Bar during the Yellow trailer

In "Semblance Challenge" Ruby points out that Yang destroyed Roman's Paladin

☆ Notably referenced from Vol 2 Chapter 4 Painting the Town

In"The Reader" side story, it plays on Yang's perspective as a child dealing with her harsh reality of responsibility after summer never came back.

#rwby #rwby analysis #Are the mangas canon

[pancakeke]

Did you get diagnosed with adhd as an adult? I ask because I'm an adult woman of color that can get up and go to work and can kind of interact with people around me, so I feel like I'll never get it

I got diagnosed when I was 29 but looking back I should have been diagnosed when I was in middle school lol. When I sought out a doctor I was technically functioning at my job and home but I was doing piss poor work and was stressed out beyond my limit 100% of the time.

I have a really hard time talking to doctors because I get anxious and forget what I want to highlight a lot so it may be helpful for you as well to list out your struggles and how they are negatively impacting your life. then you have a point by point list your doctor can use to help with diagnosis

for examples, a bunch of stuff I listed:

Work:

I forget to follow up on problem orders constantly, creating larger problems for myself later

I have to keep ridiculous amounts of notes to keep myself on track, but then the amount of notes becomes overwhelming and they become impossible to use

I question my memory at all times which keeps me in a high level of stress and anxiety

After dealing with some extra temporary responsibilities I hit a wall and have not been able to bounce back and do my normal duties very well anymore. Even my boss has noticed that I have had a hard time keeping up and talked to me about it. Nothing has permanently changed with my work, the problem is something with me.

home/personal life

I volunteer to help people with plans often but very quickly forget my responsibilities and only remember when reminded at the the last minute, putting myself in the position where I have to work until 2 or 3am to prepare for what we're doing

often I feel very creative and have the intention to work on home improvement or personal projects but either cant force myself to initiate a plan or after starting a plan I can't focus enough to get remotely close to completing it

along with the above, when actually starting a project it's generally on impulse and as soon as the impulse dies down I cant force myself to continue no matter how hard I try

I create constant messes and always feel disorganized no matter how hard I try to maintain an acceptable living space

I buy things on impulse for personal projects but then can't bring myself to work on the projects, meaning I often waste money on impulse buys that never go anywhere

I have a difficult time remembering to pay bills

General

forgetfulness causes me to accidentally procrastinate almost constantly, always putting me in a position where I have to rush while fueled by anxiety to get anything accomplished.

I basically rely on anxiety to push me to complete anything. if I'm not afraid of failure or causing problems it's almost like tasks don't exist

there isn't a day where one or more of the above things causes me problems.

kind of overboard but you get the idea. take some time over a week or two and note every time your ADHD symptoms affect your quality of life, and also add to your notes that all these things are negatively impacting you on a daily basis (if its true, which I don't doubt it is). If you share any of these problems with me feel free to tell your doctor you know someone diagnosed with ADHD who had the same problems to emphasize that you don't just have generalized anxiety.

My doctor made a copy of my notes to keep on file which I greatly appreciated. I've had a LOT of problems with doctors in the past not taking me seriously for physical problems I had so I'm like extra aware and suspicious of how doctors behave now.

I was genuinely surprised at how serious my doctor took all my issues. She didn't dismiss anything and agreed this sounded like ADHD. I'm white and can't talk to the issue of being POC and trying to get taken seriously by medical professionals but my generic advice is: don't be afraid to fire a doctor who doesn't seem to listen to you or is dismissive of your struggles. You don't even need to tell them they're fired, you can just cancel your next appt right after you make it and then ghost them. I went through 5 doctors (and hundreds of dollars....) getting a physical problem diagnosed once. I seriously wish I'd jumped ship on two of these guys sooner and stopped wasting my time and money on morons who had no investment in my health.

Also if possible, talk to local people you know or check out support groups (there are a lot of various ones on FB. also there may be forums out there for this kind of thing) for POC who struggle with finding doctors who actually listen to them. There may be recs you can use.

One more little bit of advice, if you're more comfortable with video chat than going to see a doctor in person you can do telehealth visits to speak with psychs about mental health issues and even get a diagnosis. It's what I did at first because it was easier to fit into my schedule. The only caveat is they can't prescribe you any medications for controlled substances (like adderall) without seeing you in person at least once. So if they do diagnose you with ADHD you'll have to go see them in person one time to get a prescription.

I always rant when I get asks for advice aaaa but I hope this helps at least somewhat!! If you have any other questions or want to talk feel free to send another ask or DM me!!

#ask #adhd

[hemihr12005]

fundies (software) homework task

brief:

plan and draw simple objects of your choosing

apply colour to objects and change the thickness of the stroke

use the gradient palettes and gizmo

use the pathfinder tool to create objects from two or more objects

use 'paste in place'

use the layers palette to organise things in front and back 

requirements:

look on moodle tutiorals for help: here

planning:

thought of shapes i could use hybrid curves/broken points on, thought of palm trees.

I wanted to keep it simple, so the backround is a simple block (or maybe gradient) colour sky, sea and sand. The tree branches I decided on design 3 (earlier planning) cause it's easy but I'll do some freehand shading with the pen and opacity and maybe some free hand lines with pen for details. I wanted to include coconuts so I could freehand some circles (more like elipses). I might add more details to the leafs with broken points and hybrid curves. I think the hammock will be the hardest so will only do it if I have time. I want to add some shadow to the ground as well, to give the illustration more depth. I might use something like paste and rotate for this.

i started with creating a layer 1 - which was my background. I used gradient to create the ocean. For the sky i picked one colour and freehanded pen shapes and used swatches to keep the same colour and make it lighter. for the sand i used freehand pen and just make the shape I wanted that looked like sand. I ended up adding a white strip to look like the white water I waves. So the waves looked like it was coming onto the shore. I did this with freehand pen again. Layer 2 was called "tree" in which I created the tree branch and leaves of the palm tree. I freehanded the tree trunks using lots of better curves. I then added a gradient to the tree and changed the angle so it would align to the tree. i went from dark brown to light brown to add a shadow and colour variation. I used hybrid curves and broken points to make the leaves. I also used the "pen +" tool to add points if I needed more. I used / tool a lot when making my leaves beacsue the lines kept having fills. I probably could have used shift c as well to swtich curves to corners, but i sort of forgot some of the tools we learned when i was making the illistration. When i finished all my leaves I ended up grouping all the origanal leave parts together so each leaf had its own group, but when I went to use fill to colour it in the fill want working and I realised I had to ungroup everything and have the middle lines on top in adjust object order. I origanally made the coconuts on this tree layer too, but when I tried to add shadows on a new layer the rest to the trees, the coconuts kept getting in the way, so I ended up giving the coconuts their own layer. For shadows I wanted more shadow on the tree so I did what we did for the penguin task and just freehanded a shadow with pen tool and lowered the opacity to 26%. I tried to make the shadows look realistic on the tree without going overboard. I tried to add some shadow to the coconuts too but i made the back ones darker originally so it didn't need too much shading. I didn't really add that many highlights which could have made it better. Maybe that's a good step for next project. I then used option shift to make copy of the entire trees and rotated them + changed fill to create shadows along the sand. I used the swatch colour tool to make the shadow colour a shade darker than the origanal sand colour.

Thursday morning due date now

I rotated the shadow on the left tree beacsue the shadow was on to much of an angle and looked unnatural. I found and removed a random line on horizon. Then I decided to add a fallen coconut on the sand and gave it some shadow.

Had fun with this especially since I haven't really used illistator before and it's fun to learn new things. Could have been better and used some better tools but I thinks it's a good first attempt.

[mintytrifecta]

You know the best thing about bubble net feeding isn't the fact that it's a learned skill by whales, but the fact that you can imagine the whales going :<> when they rise up to get their food

#did I go overboard with white highlights??? no you can never go overboard with highlights #art #traditional art #marine biology #whale #whale art #bubble net feeding #artist on tumblr

[geek-png]

What is your coloring process? If you don’t mind me asking 🤔

I assume you mean my shading / rendering process. If so it's, a wholeee process alright hahahh,, hhh- It get's a bit complicated when you're talking about rendering specific forms (Skin, hair, fur, clothing, glass/metals, etc.), but the core steps usually remain the same. I've been asked this a lot in the past so I might as well try to go over it extensively now. Fair warning I'm really bad at explaining things but I'll try to be as detailed and coherent as possible, that being said this might get long so hold on- If you have any questions afterward then please let me know!! GEEK'S COLORING / RENDERING PROCESS BELOW THE CUT (with photos to follow along)

- I'm gonna be using practice sketches for base reference, the first is for fur / clothing with my Bear!Otto design to start. The second is gonna be for exclusively skin at the very end- - NOTE: Keep in mind the way I do my rendering is just a mess of combined stuff, but your art program must contain Layer Modes (multiply, overlay, luminosity, shade, etc.) if you're gonna follow step-by-step. The program I'm using is Paint Tool SAI, but there's plenty of other programs that use layer modes just the same!

STEP 1: Flat-colors! (I just used a basic marker brush to fill in, keeping the fur, clothing and extra bit layers separate. His fur is a bit dark but we can make it work subtly.)

STEP 1.5: Coloring the Line-art! (This step is optional, and can come either before OR after shading, but makes your artwork look much softer in the process. A very quick way of doing this if you don't want to do it by hand is as follows:) 1. Flatten all your color layers and copy them, unflatten by hitting undo a few times. 2. Make a new layer above your linework layer and paste those combined colors onto it. 3. Find your blur tool and gently blur all those colors, then clip it to the linework layer below, adjust opacity/saturation as you see fit!

STEP 2: Cel Shading! (Or just the block-shading step, although I combine my cel and blended shading together all in one, I'm separating them for simplicity's sake on this.) [ When shading I use both the Multiply & Overlay layer modes as bases (for multiply I'd use lighter, dull pastels, while for overlay I'd use darker, more saturated colors. Combining them both can give a little bit more realism when doing the lighting effects later on. It all depends on the colors beneath and the effect you want to achieve with whatever atmosphere the artwork is showing! I NEVER go straight black/white for colors, especially while shading, it's literal hell and won't look good, imo. ]

STEP 2.5: Blended Shading! (Same process as Cel Shading except you're gonna get into the nooks and crannies and blend it out! Define where the darkest parts are and fade it using a blending brush and opacity, keep in mind I use multiple layers for this step and stack it a lot, but it's up to personal preference how far you want to go with it. Use both Multiply / Overlay for this bit and experiment with different warm / cool shades!)

STEP 3: Base Highlights! (Using Overlay and a light color to accompany, add some basic shapes of light from whatever direction it's coming from on your piece. Always keep in mind the general location of prominent light, minor sources can be added on after. Blending can be used at this stage, which is what I did for the fur tufts.)

STEP 3.5: Final Highlights / Details! (Now for the fancy shit [part 1]! Keep in mind it's incredibly easy to go overboard with this step and it's entirely up to preference! I usually try to keep it pulled back a bit but for the sake of this example I'm going all out- I basically just added more detail to the fur, highlights on the nose / eye / glasses / girdle using Overlay & Lumi+Shade, and added in shadows & highlighted bits I might've missed.)

STEP 4: Mess Around with Colors / Layer Modes! (Fancy shit [part 2]! Experiment with different color combinations to set different moods for your piece! I tend to lean more towards the oranges / reds / purples, but that's just my personal preference. Light obstruction, rim lighting, anything and everything- Go fucking buck-wild LOL References for certain lightings can come in really handy too!!!) ------- That's it for the basics, but here's an extra tidbit for how I do skin specifically:

1+2: Same process as above, cel shading and blended over it with warm but pale pastel pinks / oranges. This can work with any skin tone, I don't suggest using cool colors for base shading as it can make the skin look kinda,, dead- 3: That being said I'm using cool colors for the overlay part- It works well for getting the darker areas and for creases / eyebags usually. For darker skin tones I tilt more towards purple rather than blue. 4: Final details, coloring the linework and adding highlights. (I added a lot more blush than I normally do but yeah that's up to you lmao) ----- Hope this gave enough insight on how I generally do my stuff, not a strict guideline or anything but there's the basics as best as I could explain :^) Have any questions? Please let me know!

#art tutorial #digital art #digital art tutorial #how to art #fanart #this took ages for me to put together so I would appreciate reblogs a fuck ton ;; #I hope it's concise enough without being confusing #I tried to make it seem fairly straightforward but when I'm doing it on my own I jump around in between steps a lot #but again it's entirely up to preference that's just how I do my stuff #geek png #geek asks #paint tool sai #alfred molina

[ichorai]

pearls and pastries ; j.jk

pairing ; pirate!jungkook x baker!reader (gender-neutral)

summary ; a crew of pirates have been pilfering your village for several weeks now and one particularly keen buccaneer has stopped by your bakery practically every visit; whether it be for the delectable pastries or for the sweet baker he's taken an interest to, jungkook couldn’t say. but there’s a catch - the baker doesn’t know that he’s a pirate.

themes ; fantasy, angst, fluff, pining, slight action, pirate au, baker au, medieval au

words ; 3.6k

warnings / includes ; descriptions of weaponry, stealing (from the rich), jungkook being a sad lovesick sap, pirate!bts, poetic sadness but when do i not do angst lmfao everything i touch turns into written sorrow </3

a/n ; written for the @ficscafe fic exchange event for @sunshinerainbowsbts !! i hope you like it <3 i'm definitely considering writing a part two to this :D

Jungkook wasn’t quite fond of parrots. Well, his mislike wasn’t necessarily directed towards the multi-hued rotund bird itself, but the fact that the wretched thing was squawking out a poor rendition of what Jungkook had announced earlier whilst clambering down the crow’s nest.

“I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery!” the winged devil screeched from atop Jimin’s shoulder, ruffling its bright feathers as if taunting him.

Shooting it the nastiest of scowls, Jungkook reached behind his head to untie the vermilion bandana holding his overgrown locks away from his narrowed eyes. “You better shut that bird up before I toss it to the sharks, Jimin.”

“If I let you do that, I’d also have to throw you overboard. The both of you are equally annoying,” the other pirate snorted in contempt, glancing up at his younger friend striding across the ship before moving his gaze back to the knapsack he was emptying for the pilfer. Out fell several empty bottles of rum, a few gold pieces glinting in the harsh midday sun, two jewel-encrusted daggers, and a worn eyepatch that suspiciously looked to be the same as the one Yoongi always wore over his left eye. “You seem to forget that we’re here to steal from the rich, not buy fancy breads! You’re lucky that Namjoon has half the decency not to kick you off the boat. Jin, however fond he is of you, still calls you a moocher.”

Rouge faintly dusted across Jungkook’s cheekbones as he coughed into his fist, lifting his shoulder in a half-shrug. “I steal stuff sometimes,” he muttered under his breath. It was useless to defend himself against someone who saw straight through him.

“Sometimes, my foot!” Jimin scoffed, hiking the bag over his shoulders. “Bringing back a goblet you found rolling down the street doesn’t count, you know that, right?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes to the cloudless sky, far too stubborn to admit that Jimin was right. With not another word, the young pirate clambered off of the large vessel and onto the rickety docks, grunting upon landing. It didn’t bother him much that Jimin was irked at his lack of contribution. They were rich enough as it is; what was the rush?

The air was tangy with sea salt and damp wood as he inhaled a deep breath, setting off for your bakery. Walking there took exactly three hundred and seventy two steps. Jungkook had memorized the shortest route to your little shop, mumbling the numbers under his breath with a growing grin blossoming across his lips. He subconsciously rolled the sleeves of his white tunic down, the fabric concealing the pirate tattoos inked all over his arms.

When the youthful sea wolf stepped foot into your store, a familiar chiming of the bell hooked atop the door echoed across the cream-walled room. At the reverberating sound, your head peeked out from the kitchen situated in the back. An illuminating beam danced on your features, eyes lighting up with mirth at the sight of Jungkook.

It made the muscle within his chest slam against his ribcage, desperate to be freed from its confines because it belonged to you, and only you. He wasn’t quite sure when the sudden fixation for the village baker his crew was stealing from started, but he had acclimated to his own change of heart by visiting you as often as he could.

“Fancy seeing you here today. Are you coming in or are you now my human door stopper?” Your heavenly voice floated towards Jungkook, snapping him out of his thoughts. Sheepish, he shuffled inside, engulfed by the warm scents of chocolate cakes, powdered pastries, caramelized fruits, and toasted almonds. His stomach gave an impatient snarl at the sight of tempting desserts. You had also walked to the front of the counter, dusting your flour covered hands on an apron. Some of the white powder had managed to smudge on your cheek, and Jungkook had to resist the urge to reach over and thumb it away.

“Hi,” he said with the brightest of grins. “I’ve missed you.”

At his bold statement, you suppressed a chortle. “I think you missed those chocolate cream puffs you like so much, not me. What’ve you been up to while you were gone?”

Jungkook hesitated at that. For the short amount of time he’d been visiting you, not once had he mustered the courage to tell you of his true origins. A savage pirate like him shouldn’t even be around the likes of you. You had no idea that he was part of the crew that was robbing your village, and the very thought of you finding out had him terrified. You were a taste of all the goodness in the world, and Jungkook was afraid you’d crumble into ash if he dared touch you. The sinner had no rights touching an angel, after all.

“Visiting family,” he hummed, quick to move on. If you noticed his strange demeanor, you didn’t say anything. For that, Jungkook was grateful. “I brought something for you.”

There was something about your smile that seemed to expel any and all feelings of gloom in a room. Jungkook was no exception to this feat, his knees almost buckling against the soft pink counters. He righted himself by leaning his elbows on top and propping his chin up with a palm. Gods, he didn’t know he was in this deep.

“Oh?” you set your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side. “To what do I owe such pleasures?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “For those cream cheese tarts you made me last time I visited. Thought I’d repay you.” Whilst saying this, he used his free hand to reach into his back pocket, fishing out a string of authentic pearls, adorned with a glimmering clasp of gold the same hue as the sun.

Your smile melted into a confused pucker, brows knitting together in a muted painting of hesitance, yet you ogled the expensive necklace dangling by one of his spindly fingers nonetheless. Where on earth had he gotten such a valuable treasure? “But you already paid me with money. I really can’t take that, Jungkook.”

Disappointment was easily detected as he slanted his lips to the side. “Alright, then.” He tucked the pearls back into his pocket. It surprised you how easily he had complied.

The worrisome atmosphere was quick to dissolve when the bell jangled once more. A small child meandered in with a toothy beam, holding a small pouch of clattering coins in their palm. They were no taller than Jungkook’s midriff, and he liked it a little more than he should have watching a certain softness adorn your features at the sight of the kid.

“I recommend the cinnamon apple pie. Or maybe the brown sugar crepes if you’re looking for something sweeter,” Jungkook said, gesturing to the treat behind the display glass. The child angled their head to stare at the taller man with wonder. “Anything Y/N makes is to die for, though.”

The child excitedly babbled something in return, but you didn’t quite pick up what they had said. You were far too focused on Jungkook’s animated features when he kneeled down to point at some more desserts. Sure, he was a handsome man, you’ve known that since day one. You’ve never really looked at him in this light. It was as if he were carved from pure luminosity, whittled by the hand of the most skilled sculptor. Everything about him was practically perfect; the gentle slope of his nose, the angles of his raised eyebrows, the dappled rouge of his lips, the beauty marks mottling his dewy skin, the dangerous cuts of his jaw, the twinkle of gaiety you found in his irises. With the sunlight filtering through the windows, it basked Jungkook within a golden radiance, the shadows casted along his face only highlighting his best features, doing nothing to aid your fluttering pulse. Has he always been this beautiful?

“I’ll have a slice of apple pie!”

The sudden clinking of coins being dumped onto the counter snapped you out of your trance, and you kindly wrapped up what the child ordered and handed them the paper bag. Both you and Jungkook watched as they smiled in thanks and trotted out of the bakery. Curse his handsome physique.

A little flustered by your earlier thoughts, you busied your hands by sorting the coins the kid had coughed up. Jungkook, ever the kind soul, merely stood with you as you worked, engaging you in entertaining conversations to keep you occupied while your store was empty. Where did the sun go once it disappeared down the horizon? Why did everybody else seem to enjoy the bitter taste of coffee except him? Why did his heart beat so quickly when around you? The last question he couldn’t muster the courage to ask, and much to his perturbation, he already knew the answer. You enjoyed Jungkook’s company very much; to the point where you couldn’t quite remember what it was like before he had sauntered into your life.

Before the both of you knew it, the sun was already setting. Jungkook noticed the way you deflated just slightly when red kissed the sky. It was a telltale sign that Jungkook was long overdue to go back to his ship. Yoongi would have his ass if he was late again. The whole situation was ridiculous, really. He felt like a fairy tale princess running away from the ball before his clothes grew into tatters. Well, in his case, he supposed it’d be pirate-wear.

Your smile betrayed only the gentlest hint of disappointment as you thrusted a bag of warm cookies into his arms. “Take this for the road,” you had said.

And so Jungkook did, smiling like an idiot the whole way back. A part of him absentmindedly wondered what your face would look like when you noticed that he had left the pearls on the countertop for you.

The ship rocked as the young pirate scampered across the deck at a startling speed, flinging the doors to the cabins open. Six older pirates stared at his panting form, a few looking on with unsurprised indifference, most glaring at him in disappointment. Jimin merely stuck his tongue out, his childish way of saying I told you so. There was expectancy in the captain’s eyes, but it waned away at an instant upon seeing that Jungkook carried nothing of value. Namjoon pinched the space between his brows in mild frustration.

Stiffly, Jungkook jerked his arm to thrust the bag in his hand forward. “Cookie?” he asked. Nobody said anything. Jungkook slowly brought his appendage back down, guilt roiling in his abdomen. “I take it you guys don’t want the cookies?”

With a huff, Namjoon stalked forward. “Of course we want the cookies, give me that.” He snatched the bag out of Jungkook’s hands and tossed it to Taehyung, who caught it with eagerness vividly splayed across his ruffled features. “I do have to admit, we’re getting tired of you bringing back nothing but sweets every time we go on raids, Jungkook. C’mon, kid, this is a team effort here. Look, just today Yoongi managed to steal a dozen coffers from a nobleman. The least you can do is try.” True to the captain’s word, there was a mountain of chests and boxes full to the brim with gold coins and shimmering jewels piled to the side of the cabin.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Jungkook nodded in understanding, though not without a miniscule frown twinging his lips. What was a pirate without his treasure, right?

Taking note of his glum demeanor, Namjoon clapped a hand to the younger man’s shoulder. “We’re not mad at you—”

Yoongi snorted at that.

“We just… want to help you help us,” Namjoon finished, ignoring the salty pirate’s quip from behind him.

The youngest man on deck raised his hand to his forehead in an awkward salute. “Yes cap’n!” Shame prowled within his chest; just thinking about the dishonor he brought to the pirate reputation by loitering in a bakery all day, ogling at sugary treats (and the sweet baker, but Jungkook digresses).

A part of him felt even worse knowing that he’d see you less and less, what with the other pirates breathing down his neck. He could only hope that you’d still look forward to his visits, though few and far in between.

Authentic bottles of expensive wines were shoved into his knapsack by Taehyung, lacing chains of aureate crammed into his hands by Hoseok, bars of cold silver wedged into the pits of his arms by Jimin, and more treasures thrown at the youngest pirate to hold as they lithely ran across the village. Being one of the stronger and more agile ones of the group had its downfalls, after all. He was being treated like a pack mule, hauling all the treasure for them. Not that he was going to complain; Jungkook knew that he deserved the rough-housing.

“Hold onto these for me, will you?” Yoongi gruffly uttered as he slid the thick hilts of gem-encrusted daggers into his belt. Jungkook complied hesitantly, but not without a suppressed groan of annoyance. “They’ll sell for more than a pretty penny, so don’t lose them.” The older pirate seemed to be in a grumpier than usual mood, considering he lost his eyepatch and the mottled scar crossing over his eye was on display for anybody to gawk at. It would’ve been worrying to Jungkook if he wasn’t aware of the fact that Jimin was merely prolonging his juvenile game of ‘keep away’, attempting to dance away from Yoongi’s inevitable wrath.

Perhaps being a pirate wasn’t his true calling, because Jungkook found that his mind kept wandering off to the matters at hand—running away from the guards. Though it was a relatively easy task (the guards were quite thick-headed in this village), he thought about the pretty plants dangling from the balconies of a building they jogged by, or the scents of exotic spices carried by the souq market not far from where they were. Most of all, much to his expectancy, his thoughts were centered around you. Had you gotten many customers for lunch rush? Were you lonely without him? How many times have you smiled today? Jungkook was all too fond of your smile.

Blinded by his unsaid affectionate ramblings, he only barely caught on to Namjoon’s quiet, “We shook the guards off for now. Be careful next time, Seokjin. The sun’s about to set soon; we should head back to the ship before it gets dark.”

Jungkook hissed out a small sigh of relief, bending over to catch his breath. Jogging across the village would have been no problem, but running with treasures twice his weight draped all over him was a different story.

When he righted himself back to standing, the sudden pit of shocked trepidation unfurled within his abdomen. There you were, beautiful as ever, but a terrifying sight to see. Normally you’d be the only person he would want to see, but as of this moment, you were the absolute last person he fancied bumping into.

Why now? He had the most rotten of luck.

Today you weren’t wearing your regular apron, but a pair of fitted grey trousers and a soft beige blouse far too large for you, hanging off of one of your shoulders as you cradled a basket of breads and cheeses and other groceries in your arms. It was a simple outfit, but one that made his heart clench nonetheless. The glinting of iridescent pearls draped over your décolletage had his breath stolen away from him as raw sentiment overtook his form. You were wearing the pearls he left for you and you never looked more beautiful. Jungkook, on the other hand, was clad in clothes that practically screamed pirate; a golden-clasped corset tightened about the small of his waist, a tattered white button-up tucked into his dark trousers, worn sea boots covering his feet. A large gun was also slung over the belt cinched around his hips, along with multiple daggers of the like, and not to mention all the riches and jewelry the other boys had thrown at him.

You couldn’t see him. No, it would absolutely ruin Jungkook.

Perhaps dropping everything he was holding in a panicked effort to dash away as quickly as he could was the worst possible thing he could have done to not warrant any attention.

The concerned and confused questions erupting from the other pirates as they whipped their heads towards their youngest comrade went completely ignored. He scampered away from them, lunging towards a shadowed alley and hiding behind a teetering pile of musty boxes. A stray cat nuzzled against his leg, but Jungkook merely shooed it away with a frustrated glare and not-so-subtle shushing gestures.

What a fool I am, the young buccaneer berated himself, pressing a knuckle against his temple in frustration. He waited for another minute, before slinking out from the shadows, peering around the corner to see if you were still there.

No sign of you. Relief seized his chest, but not without the gentlest flower of disappointment staining whatever solace he felt, a weed amongst the roses. Jungkook’s mind was still reeling from the fact that you were wearing his pearls.

Treading carefully, he strode out of the alley, turning the other direction before halting in his tracks completely. A queer, garbled noise tumbled past his lips.

It was you, a confused smile gracing your features, and all Jungkook could think about was how the sunlight was made for you, how you glowed in front of him, how he wanted to cradle you into his chest and murmur confessions of his pure, unadulterated love into your ear. But Jungkook didn’t do any of that. Instead, he merely stood there, as if he was imitating a statue in all of his pirate glory. Terrified, regretful, and ever so angry at himself.

Fate was a cruel game.

The pearls shone prettily on your skin. A reminder of the best mistake he’s ever made.

Your eyes had yet to wander down to fully take in his appearance, for your expression still held fondness for the man that’s visited your bakery so often, still having no idea that he was a filthy pirate, locked into his molten gaze. “I think you dropped something…?” The golden chains dangled loose between your fingers as you held them out to him. Jungkook didn’t take them, frozen on the spot.

It was as if he could pinpoint the exact moment you found out his true origins. Your brows furrowed upon seeing the weaponry strapped onto him, one of his pirate tattoos on display (Jungkook cursed himself for not thinking of rolling his sleeve back down), and the six other men watching in silent despondency behind them. You had always been a sharp one, far too smart for your own good.

Or, perhaps, it's always been obvious. Jungkook was only wishing for the impossible.

“You’re a pirate.”

The statement wedged a stake into his chest, splintering his heart into pieces. When you stepped away from him, confused horror marring your beautiful features, Jungkook knew that it was over.

He lost you.

A flurry of emotions, overwhelming and tumultuous, evidently took over you at his lack of denial. You looked to be just as heartbroken as he was.

“You’re a pirate,” you repeated, dazed. You wanted him to say something, anything. Much to his surprise, you didn’t sound angry. You took several steps back this time. The weight of pearls around your neck suddenly felt choking.

The sudden calling of his name had his head whipping around to look at his captain, watching the brutal exchange with gentle sternness. “We have to go.” The guards’ll be coming soon, no doubt.

Jungkook looked back to you, any and all words lodged in his throat. Despite the fear in your irises, a soft expression of acceptance folded over your visage, for under all his pirate exterior, he was still the same man that you thought so fondly of from your bakery. The look was short-lived however, quick to fade away when Jungkook reached out for you hesitantly. A part of him pondered how a simple baker managed to steal from the stealer. You had robbed him of his heart, and Jungkook didn’t even try to stop you.

Upon seeing you inch away in mortification at your new revelation, Jungkook retracted his arm and pursed his lips. The agony clawing at his stomach was begging to be set free. He wanted nothing more than to get onto his knees and plead for your forgiveness.

I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I’m not the man you thought I was. I’m sorry I fell in love with you.

His name came out again, this time from Yoongi. That meant it was serious.

“I’ll come back,” Jungkook said, tears rimming the bottom of his warm doe eyes. You watched him start to trek backwards. “I promise.” The words felt heavy on his tongue, like he was swallowing down a knot of thorned ivy.

Before you had the chance to say anything back, he was gone, bounding back to his ship with his comrades. Not long after, the distant barks of guards pursuing them rang throughout the village. You took that as your cue to leave. Swallowing down the urge to cry, you forced your eyes away.

You hoped he wouldn’t uphold his promise, for the both of your sakes.

#ficscafe #kdiner #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fantasy #jungkook fantasy #pirate bts #pirate jungkook #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts x you #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios

[lesbianrobin]

hello em i have a request. can u please rate mr harrington's looks/outfits i just feel like u have the best takes and i'd LOVE to know how you'd rank his choices 👀

this is the single greatest ask i’ve ever received. i will be ranking the outfits, not steve’s moral alignment or actions in each scene. in order of appearance:

The Introduction

4/10

hair is tragic

steve copied this entire fit from a mannequin in the ralph lauren polo outlet store

would honestly be a 0/10 except for the obvious valiant effort being put forth by his lower half to resist the sexless curse of khaki pants. the devil (st costuming department) works hard but by god steve harrington (joe keery’s body) works harder

nice brown watch that certainly came from a department store

also gains points for being next to nancy’s anemic librarian fit, thus looking better by comparison

The Rich Bitch

8/10

thank god he ditched the khakis

hair looks much less demonic

it’s a simple look but the sweatshirt rides up when he shotguns the beer

he also gets wet

solid 8 for sluttiness alone

The Whore

10/10

wet

please note that his chest is waxed. keep this in mind.

The Heterosexual

2/10

hair looks like he dipped his head in glue

bold choice with the grey pants. unfortunately that choice was wrong

matching outfits with your comphet girlfriend isn’t as cute as you think it is stevie

you only get points because despite that ungodly pastel stripe pattern the polo’s decently fitted and makes your arm look kinda nice

The Dickhead

3/10

glue head pt. 2

at least the stripes aren’t pastel this time

The Cuck

6/10

hair slightly less glue-y

yet another striped polo is peeking out unfortunately

but! it’s green and green looks good on him

finally wearing jeans like a normal fucking human instead of weird slacks

pivotal moment in steve’s fashion evolution from preppy male model to sexy morally upright king

his morals are stored in the denim

The Final Girl

9/10

an outfit with a character arc to rival steve’s own

pretty fucking good hair if i do say so myself!!

it’s fluffy!

that shit looks like if you touched it it’d be soft... no glue here!

finally not copying from the goddamn l.l. bean catalog

iconic green slut sweatshirt? check! jacket and nikes? check! fucked-up gorgeous face and baseball bat full of rusty nails? check, baby!

looks good on its own OR with some blood on top

overall a very solid look

The Darling Little Drummer Boy

7/10

babe no... please don’t go back to the khakis... they won’t treat you like jeans do...

not quite glue head but not his best

apparently steve owns a single green sweatshirt, a thousand striped polos, and one very precious christmas sweater

almost makes up for prep-related khaki crimes by being really fucking cute

The Simp

8/10

glue head is DEAD

further evidence that steve harrington’s entire closet is just striped polos

this is his fifth unique striped polo

most of these points are for the sunglasses and the hair

actually all of these points are for the sunglasses and the hair

he’s finally let go of the fucking pastels thank jesus

and you can’t see it but he did wear jeans with this fit i just forgot to make sure they were pictured and it’s 4:15 am so i don’t feel like going back to remake this collage

cannot tell if this is a lighter blue version of the jacket he wore three times in s1 or if it IS the jacket he wore three times in s1 and the color grading is just that different

either way he loves jackets and i think that’s very sexy of him

The Intellectual

9/10

i’ve been waiting for this one... turn it up!

literally invented vests

excellent hair

loses a point for unfortunately introducing steve’s SIXTH unique striped fucking polo

i can’t see the collar but i know it’s there i know you’re wearing another fucking polo steve you can’t hide from me

can’t decide if he looks gay or just really preppy but either way he’s got some repression going on

still a very solid look

The Oh No Oh God It Hurts I’m Looking Away I Can’t Watch This

10/10

yes that middle picture is absolutely to show off the texture of his blazer and not at all me making sure that if i have to see his heartbroken little face then you all do too

anyways i Know that blazer cost at least $100 like i Know that shit’s expensive

excellent gorgeous soft-looking hair that someone ought to run their hands through but only people who haven’t dated him for a year while pining after someone else

emotional devastation... but make it unbelievably fucking sexy

stevie baby i know you’re a colorful guy but please wear more black

The Meathead Jock

9/10

aw christ whatever happened to standards?

introduction of the blue nikes <3

god his hair looked fucking good here

could have gained that final point by using tube socks with blue and GREEN stripes to tie together the shoes and the gym uniform :/

shorts could be shorter but are an altogether appropriate and enjoyable length

fun sweatstain to customize the look <3

The (is there a word for victim of bullying?) Serious Athlete

8/10

the yellow stripe was more fun

still cute though

The Sudsy Boy

11/10

wet

suds indicate that he’s washing his hair, presumably with faberge organics. is this why he’s being bullied?

steve brings his faberge organics shampoo and conditioner and his farrah fawcett spray to school with him whenever he has basketball practice

steve either has shampoo, conditioner, and hairspray in his backpack at all times, or he has a separate gym bag that’s mostly haircare products

just need to make sure we all know that

excellent freckle showcase

his chest is still waxed. please, i beg, keep this in mind

one of his strongest looks

The Babysitter

10/10

his most versatile look to date

a different jacket than the one(s) he’s worn before but it still has the same kind of collar. steve found a jacket he liked and bought it in at least three colors

the whole thing fits So fucking nicely! shirt, jacket, jeans... baby boy is TAILORED

return of the white nikes with the red check indicate that they are his fashion nikes, while the blue nikes with the white check are his sport nikes. interesting.

this fit lasts like 48 hours and steve simply looks sexier as time goes on which is a testament to its quality as well as his inherent power

every new accessory elevates his appearance. roses, nail bat, rubber gloves, blood, sweat, band-aids, bandana, goggles... each element complements the look in its own way!

an overall win

The Chauffeur

8/10

we can’t really see the whole fit but he’s not wearing a striped polo so i’m calling it a win regardless of what’s on his bottom half

cannot give him a 10/10 though because he might be wearing khakis

red is such a nice color on him when it’s not just from his blood

i lied when i said he should wear more black he should wear more colors

that plain sweater absolutely cost $85 or more

hair looks very nice and soft

excellent look!

The Sailor Man

9/10

very precious

absolutely the best hair i’ve ever seen

baby boy got highlights for his hot girl summer!

bright colors make his very red lips pop

shorts could be shorter

love the little accents! especially the white pockets and belt

excellent color coordination on steve’s part with the blue sneakers (notably different than his s2 blue basketball nikes) and the red bruising/blood

i hope you remembered that steve’s chest was waxed. as you can see his chest is now unwaxed. some change between s2 and s3 drove this decision, presumably either his breakup with nancy or the fact that he no longer showers in front of other guys at school. up to your interpretation

shock blanket at the very end is a nice touch so we don’t forget he’s traumatized

The Drowned Rat/The Man Overboard

10/10

wet

shorts could be shorter

the decision to purchase and wear a hoodless raincoat is absolutely ridiculous and stupid

however it is also very steve harrington and i value self-expression

The Chick Magnet/The Flaming Homosexual

100/10

what can i even say about this fit?

the absolute best pants he’s worn thus far. amazing fit, excellent classic wash. i say this as a former american eagle outfitters associate and the winner of my freshman year dorm’s “best at folding jeans” award

manages to make blue jeans with a half-blue denim vest work effortlessly

bold primary colors make him stand out without being too gaudy

excellent pairing of t-shirt with simple stripes and vest with simple color blocking to create a complex yet cohesive and flattering look

simple brown belt gives the look a put-together yet down-to-earth vibe

hair has only gotten better

still wearing that same brown watch that he’s had since the introduction

this man looks like he waxes his chest

this is steve in his final form

thank you for your time

#em talks #asks #long post #steve harrington #stranger things #battleonthedeathstar

[putschki1969]

Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 Review

Note: I FINALLY got my package. Now that I watched the full live in HD, I thought I would share m thoughts and a little present below the cut ^_^ As always, I would like to encourage everyone to SUPPORT Wakana by BUYING her Blu-ray!!! Her sales numbers aren’t the greatest which is a huge shame since this is a solid release.

Overall thoughts: I got the Limited Edition of course since I couldn’t resist the pretty sleeve packaging, the bonus documentary (so insightful) and the photobook (scans coming up soon). It is quite pricey but totally worth the money, especially if you are among those fans who liked “Magic Moment” much more than Wakana’s debut album. The release comes with a gorgeous clearfile as tokuten so be sure to get it! Try going for the Regular Edition if you want to save money. As for the live itself, it was a pleasure to watch and I can see myself rewatching it a lot (skipping a few songs though :P). Wakana’s voice coaching lessons are definitely starting to pay off. She has so much stamina these days. Can you believe that this was her SECOND live performance of the day? Her vocals were solid, even during her high-demand power ballads. At rarely any point did she sound overly-screechy to my ears, there were certain sections that didn’t sound 100% smooth but those parts definitely didn’t take away from my  overall enjoyment. On a side note, this live was a feast for the eyes, Wakana looked absolutely beautiful in her white dress and I even liked her encore outfit even though it was a little “out there” XD During the more up-beat songs, her smile literally lit up the entire hall. Seeing her have so much fun on stage is healing. I feel like they may have gone a little overboard on the blurry filters from time to time but I guess that was on purpose. 

1.揺れる春: 6/10. This is obviously the perfect cute intro for a Spring Lives so I understand why Wakana put it here but I would have much preferred “breathing” as a grand entrance. Still so sad that this is the only song from the “magic moment” album that didn’t make it onto the setlist of this live. I know, we already got an official audio recording but I would have loved some video footage to accompany it :P Anyways, back to Yureru Haru. I haven’t really warmed up to the song yet. It’s not bad and I honestly love the verses since they are super precious and feel kinda nostalgic but the chorus doesn’t stand out imo. Also, her singing style during parts of the chorus isn’t my favourite and not overly flattering. 2.where: 4/10. Oh no!! I was hoping Wakana would be singing the “ohhhohhhs”. She could have easily done it during the start and middle part of the song since it wasn’t overlapping with her other vocals. This seems so rushed? Is it just me? I haven’t listened to the studio version in a while but I know that I quite enjoyed that and it definitely didn’t make me feel as fidgety as this. Don’t know what it is exactly but it keeps me from getting into the song. I guess this is the biggest disappointment for me because I wanted to like it. 3.君だけのステージ: 4/10. I will admit it, this is not my favourite song. It’s just way too long :P But it is a very good and energetic performance, really no complaints when it comes to Wakana. But experiencing it live at the venue would have made it so much better for me. Oh well, nothing that can be done about it. The scat part at the end was a pleasant surprise. Would have loved to hear more of that. 4.442: 100/10. Honestly a masterpiece. One of Wakana’s best solo songs up-to-date and so very perfect to show off her vocals. Hearing it live like this with a band arrangement is a revelation. I love the wailing in the beginning and all the strength she conveys throughout the rest of the song. 5.ひらり ひらり: 3/10. Another song I haven’t warmed up to yet. No real thoughts. It’s one of those songs that’s just very forgettable, not bad per se but there is just nothing at all that attracts me to it. :-( As you can tell, I wasn’t entirely happy with some of the setlist choices. Wakana obviously wanted to include all the album songs but some of them are just not my cup of tea T_T 6.夕焼け: 6/10. This is one of the pieces that gets better every time I listen to it. And the latter half of the song is generally much nicer. I am always surprised by how much I actually like it when it’s over :P 7.アキノサクラ Acoustic ver.: 7/10. I am distracted by that harmonica sound-alike thingy Satoshi Takebe is playing XD Still, I have come to really like this song last winter so it is always appreciated, especially the acoustic version. Wakana is struggling a bit during the ending but nothing too bad. 8.myself: 100/10. Utter perfection. So much better than the studio version. And I am not saying this because I disliked the studio version, quite the contrary actually, I LOVED it but these two versions are honestly miles apart. Wakana’s live performance feels so much more raw and emotional. And her vocals in this are pretty much flawless, I can’t even begin to describe how this song makes me feel. A perfect ballad for Wakana. 9.メロディー (Cover): 8/10. My first reaction was boring. But by the third listen I was totally smitten and now it’s among my faves from this live. Be sure to give it a few tries, it really grows on you. I can tell why Takebe would choose this for Wakana. 10.元気を出して (Cover): 8/10. Ahhhhh, so freaking cute and old-school. Nothing beats a nostalgic, fluffy pop song from the 80s. I am here for this content. The “lalalas” at the end are LOVE. 11.オレンジ: 6/10. I like the song but I have to be in the mood for it. And here we have that fake harmonica thingy again. I enjoy the sound of a harmonica about as much as the sound of an accordion (which means not at all :P) but it fits the vibe of the song so I am okay with it. The bridge is usually my favourite part but Wakana’s delivery wasn’t as smooth as I would have liked. It was nice to have this right after “Genki wo Dashite” because both are encouraging pick-me-ups. 12.恋はいつも: 10/10. One day I wanna hear her sing the “baby, baby” part!! Please! Another absolutely highlight, you all know that I ADORE  this song, I could listen to this FOREVER. It’s such a shame the corona guidelines do not allow the audience to sing along because the ending is so much more powerful if everyone is actually singing instead of just clapping. 13.Happy Hello Day: 8/10. Such a feel-good piece. Initially I didn’t like it much but seeing it performed with an audience during her Music Party and now here, has really made me fall in love with it. I have mentioned it before in my initial reaction to the YouTube leak but I wish she would have sung some lalalas at the end just as she did during her Music Party. 14.magic moment: 9/10. I KNEW I would love this song more once I got to hear it live. I still feel like the composition is a bit choppy and thus not as flowy as I would have liked from a power ballad like this but OMG, Wakana’s live performance is EVERYTHING. Blown away by her powerful vocals, she OWNS this song 15.時を越える夜に: 10/10. Two power ballads back to back. What more could I ask for? I know not many people liked Wakana’s solo debut but I personally always thought it was perfect for her. I consider this to be one of her best songs. Say what you will about Takebe but he certainly knows how to make Wakana shine, at least in my opinion. And the song has only gotten better with every live performance. Although I think I preferred the version from her Voice Tour. So very glad we got at least one track from Wakana’s first album. The original setlist actually included Kinmokusei and Kioku no Hito which are two of my faves (they were later exchanged with the two covers). 16.春を待つ (Kalafina Cover): 8/10. Despite this being one of Keiko’s favourite Kala-songs I never could bring myself to really appreciate it. It’s just an okay song for me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy it quite a bit but I don’t go out of my way to listen to it. However, I very much loved Wakana’s cover though, she does a good job singing everyone’s lines and since the original doesn’t have any harmonies her solo performance doesn’t feel too lacking. 17.あとひとつ: 10/10. Always a treat. Can’t believe this STILL hasn’t gotten an official release :P  But I understand Wakana’s reasoning, she wants to keep this song a unique live experience and it really is. I can’t help but tear up whenever she is singing this.

Documentary: I haven’t watched all of it yet but OMG, this is so cool. The first 20 minutes are dedicated to rehearsals. I love seeing Wakana like this, just being her cute dorky self. But poor baby, it was hard seeing her this exhausted after the big studio rehearsal (that’s what the gif is from - being her overdramatic self, she literally dropped dead to the floor). The second half of the documentary is Wakana talking about the production of the live and the different songs of the setlist. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 Google Drive (3,11 GB) 🎁

Documentary of Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 Google Drive (1 GB) 🎁

Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 MP3s Google Drive 🎁

FOR ❗PERSONAL❗ USE ONLY DO ❗NOT SHARE ON OTHER SITES WITHOUT PERMISSION❗  

#kalafina #wakana #review #video #Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 #it took forever to encode this T_T #audio #mp3 #mp3s

[wlntrsldler]

No Clue (Bucky Barnes Imagine)

PROMPT: Y/N and Bucky hate each other. Nobody knows why. Whenever someone asks, the pair just say, “I have my reasons.” Some think that something happened between them when Bucky was in hiding. Some think that Bucky did something to Y/N when he was the Winter Soldier. Some think that there’s no actual reason- they simply hate each other.

MASTERLIST

-

There was an ongoing bet in the Tower. What was the real reason as to why you and Bucky hate each other? The problem is, nobody really knew exactly why you two did. It was like an unspoken truth that you both kept to yourselves and promised to take to the grave. The only thing people knew about you two was that you knew each other before you both joined the team. But of course, everyone on the team had their own experience with Bucky and yourself, individually, more so terrible and potentially life-threatening experiences over a pleasant ones. 

“Can you not fight in front of the food?” Nat rolled her eyes, taking another spoonful of cereal to her mouth. “Your energy is upsetting me.”

“It’s not my fault Barnes doesn’t know how to say excuse me.”

“Who the fuck stops in the middle of the hallway?” Bucky hissed. “Like seriously? Who walks then just stops?”

“Who the fuck doesn’t look at where they’re going?”

“Again, your energy is upsetting me.” Nat said again, this time her tone harsher. “Stop bickering.”

“He started it.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did no-”

“I give up.”Nat stood up, taking her bowl of cereal with her to her own room. 

Bucky stared at you from across the table, his eyes burning holes through your skull. His nostrils were flared and you could see exactly where the coffee stain hit his white shirt. “So you’re not even gonna apologize for spilling coffee on me?”

You didn’t mean to make him spill his coffee. He ran into you, not the other way around. “I didn’t do shit to you, Barnes.”

“You spilled my coffee on me!” He exclaimed, waving his arms up and down to emphasize the stained state of his shirt. “And it was hot too. It burned me.”

“That sucks.”

Bucky sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. “You’re such a bitch, Y/N.”

“Thanks.”

He shook his head one more time before picking up his half-empty coffee mug and walking out of the dining room. You giggled under your breath, loving the way you were able to piss him off with the smallest things. He was so fun to mess with.

You can’t lie. Sometimes you purposely did things just to piss him off. What can you say? It was funny. Bucky always reacted so dramatically whenever you were involved and it was more fun pushing his buttons than doing the paperwork you were meant to be doing. You had a way of getting under his skin. You were the only one that had that effect on him so naturally, you took advantage of it. 

Bucky’s skin got irritated by this one brand of dryer sheets. He’d break out in small patches of rashes and he would always end up having to go get medical ointment to calm his skin down. Bucky was shy as is, so him, a 100+ year old super-soldier, chunky and built, having to make himself as small as possible to go unnoticed to buy some ointment was the highlight of your long, long days as an Avenger. So of course, whenever you did the shopping, you made sure to pick up that exact brand just to make him take that humiliating trip.

He also hated Strawberry jam, stating that it was too sweet for his tastebuds. You’d joke about how he probably had diabetes because of his old age- to which he would reply with his own witty comment. Just to spite him, you always picked up Strawberry jam, even if you were a Grape jam lover yourself. He would curse you, irritated that he wasn’t able to have his PB&J sandwiches because of your practical joke. The man was attached to the snack, it was borderline unhealthy. 

But, as fate has it, he was also the only one who had that effect on you, too. Just as much as you bothered him, he bothered you. He would purposely embarrass you in front of important people and find ways to make your life just that bit harder so he could have the final laugh. 

You were the only one in the team who drank almond milk, not being able to stand the taste of regular cow milk, so whenever Steve went grocery shopping, he always made sure to buy you a carton for yourself. And low and behold, you would drag yourself out of bed at around 11AM to make yourself some breakfast and you’d find Bucky in the middle of the kitchen, a smirk on his stupid face while he drinks out of the carton of your almond milk. 

You’d start yelling at him, calling him an asshole, a dick, and just about every name in the book. Steve would come rushing in, worried at all the commotion just to walk away disappointed because you and Bucky would be arguing again. Steve would just slide you a $5 bill to buy yourself another carton of milk, just for the same thing to happen the next day. 

You and Bucky had a special relationship, indeed. And only the two of you understood it.

- 

“Sam,” You laughed, wiping the sweat off your forehead. “Give it up. I’m not telling you.”

“Come on, Y/N,” He whined, trailing behind you as you walked out of the training room. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“I am not telling you why I hate Bucky.”

This was a phrase you grew to memorize. It seemed like everyday someone from the team would practically beg you to tell them exactly why you hated Bucky. You were sure that they also bothered Bucky with their annoyances after they bombarded you. Thankfully, Bucky was smart enough, shocking to you, to not tell them a thing either. The team was frustrated at your stubbornness, wanting nothing else but to know what lies behind the mutual hate and absolute resentment for one another. 

You bid Sam a farewell and walked to your room, ready to take a shower. You looked down at your bruised knee from a mission for one second, not realizing someone was in the middle of the hallway to your room. You looked up to apologize but your sympathetic smile quickly turned into a scowl when you realized who it was. Bucky. “Get out of my way.”

“It’s not fun when you’re on the other side, huh?” Bucky smirked, referring to your encounter in the morning. “Now imagine getting burned by scalding coffee with that too.”

“Did you seriously wait in the hallway just for me to bump into you?” You tried to shove past him. His hard chest made that difficult. His feet were planted on the ground he stood on, not showing any signs of leaving any time soon. “You don’t have anything better to do?”

“I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine.”

“Fuck off.”

“I actually had something to tell you, if you would just shut your pretty little mouth for one second and let me talk.” You could practically feel his smugness. It was dripping off his voice like sweet, poisonous honey. “We have that mission together tomorrow. Or did you forget?”

“I’m a professional, Barnes. I don’t forget.” You replied, you took a sip from your water bottle, nearly moaning at the refreshing feeling of the cold drink. “I don’t get why they choose to pair us up knowing we don’t like each other.”

He finally moved out of the way, leaning against the wall to let you pass. “They know we work well together.” 

That was true.

Despite the way you two were at each other’s throats all the time, no pair could ever accomplish a mission as efficiently and flawlessly as you and Bucky. You shrugged before walking away from him, disappearing into the dark hallway, but not before you raised a finger up in the air for him to see. 

And yes, it was that finger.

Bucky chuckled when he saw you raise your hand to flip him off. You were truly something. He was about to retreat to his own room for the night when Sam saw him, running towards him excitedly. Oh, great, Bucky thought, here we go again. 

“Buck nasty,” Sam started, cocking an eyebrow. “Will today be the day when you finally tell me the history between you and Y/N?”

“Not a chance, Wilson.”

“What the hell is wrong with the two of you?” Sam groaned, punching Bucky’s metal arm in absolute annoyance. “For two people who hate each other, you two seem to have a mutual trust pumping through your veins. You remain loyal to each other over the rest of the team.”

“What can I say? Me and Y/N are an unusual pair.”

“You two are the devil’s incarnates.”

Bucky just laughed at the comment, silently agreeing. There was something devilish about the way the two of you kept your secret between just the two of you. There was a rush, like you were in on a secret that would blow the team’s minds. Quite frankly, if they knew why the two of you despised each other, they would be shocked. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Sometimes Bucky thought that the reason was so obvious, basic even, but other times he laughed silently at the reactions the team might have upon finding out. Such a shame that he’ll never know if they’ll actually respond as he imagined because the team would never find out about the truth.

-

“Okay, now that they’re off on a mission, any updates?” Tony asked, looking around the room. 

It became a tradition in the tower to hold these meetings whenever you and Bucky were off to a mission. The team did their own individual research about your past lives and reported back to the team before you two got back home. Sure, maybe, it was a bit overboard for them to basically hold a town-hall meeting just to find out information that they truly had no business even looking into, but what were they meant to do? You and Bucky both had hard exteriors that nobody could ever crack. 

Even Steve, Bucky’s oldest pal, was left in the dark by his best friend. Every time Steve brought you up, Bucky would just get up and walk away. Even when they were in potentially dangerous situations, midst missions and all. 

There was a time when Bucky and Steve went to Russia to capture a HYDRA agent. They hid behind a shipping container for a few minutes to get some protection before running back into the field of gunfire. Steve thought that there was no way Bucky could avoid answering the question now. But he was mistaken.

“So Buck,” Steve started, checking the surroundings to make sure they were safe for the time being. “What’s the story between you and Y/N?”

Steve stared at Bucky long enough to see the brunette roll his eyes. Steve heard some shuffling behind him so he turned to look, only to find nothing. When he turned around to face Bucky, he had already emerged from behind the shipping container into the open space, blocking bullets with his arm. 

Steve sighed, “If you didn’t wanna answer, you could’ve just said that, Buck.”

Because of that story, the team understood just what great lengths the both of you would go through just to avoid answering the question. So since neither of you would ever give them the time of day, they had to do their own research.

“Nada for me,” Nat groaned, throwing a stack of papers that lead to a dead-end onto the coffee table. “It was like Y/N was a ghost story, just like the Winter Soldier.”

“Okay, whatever they’re hiding might just be the cause of the possible end of the world because this is just ridiculous.” Sam stated, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Why are they so adamant about not telling us why they hate each other?”

“Who knows?” Wanda chipped in, shrugging and returning her attention back to her phone. She was one of the few who completely gave up on trying to figure things out, following Steve. She accepted defeat, realizing that the two assassins simply did not like each other. It never bothered her personally so she let it go. “Why are we still trying to figure this out? It’s been months. I say we give it a rest.”

“I agree.” Steve replied, nodding towards Wanda’s direction. “It’s their business, guys.”

-

You leaned back on the back seat, chest rising up and down, a bead of sweat rolling off your temple. You shifted your leg to get more comfortable in the small space in the car. You looked over your shoulder to look at him, a smirk displayed on his face as his breathing mimicked yours. 

“You good?” You asked, giggling after catching your breath. 

“Perfect,” Bucky nodded, reaching over your waist to pull you closer to his body. “Always so good with you.”

You playfully shoved him off, starting to clean yourself up. You would never admit it to him but you always loved to relish these short, yet sweet, moments that you two shared. Your shirt was on the floor, next to his pants and your hair was in disarray. The windows were fogged and the car smelled distinctly of sex and fresh pine, the car freshener that Bucky picked up in the liquor store on the way home, knowing what will happen next as it always happened after every mission. You looked out the tinted window seeing the outline of the Avengers tower. “How long do you think it will take for them to finally realize we��re fucking?”

You felt him shrug behind your skin. “Who knows? I thought we’d only have to keep this up for a few weeks but it’s been a few months now and they still have no idea.”

“Some Avengers they are.”

Bucky laughed at your comment, leaning over to leave a quick peck on your lips. “Agreed.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #the avengers #the avengers imagine #marvel #marvel one shot #marvel imagine #winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier one shot #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

by your art, put the wild waters in a roar

(a prompt fill for the one, the only, the magnificent @limrx, who requested ‘competent pirate Jaskier’. title from Shakespeare’s ‘The Tempest’)

“Geralt, what do you want us to do now?” Jaskier called over the sound of the wind. His Captain didn’t reply. Suddenly concerned, the Kaer Morhen’s newest crew member twisted around to glance across the quarterdeck. Through the pouring rain and swirling mist he could see how Geralt lay slumped against the ship’s enormous steering wheel, held up only by the ropes around his chest and waist. His knees had buckled and his arms were resting haphazardly against the turning pins. He looked like a scarecrow or a puppet that had been snipped free of its strings.

Geralt was in trouble and so was the ship if no one was steering against the swelling waves.

The deck was slick with rain and crashing seawater but Jaskier knew he was the only person close enough to help. He checked the knot securing the tie around his waist to the thick oak anchor of the mizzenmast. He wouldn’t go overboard so long as the rope and the mast remained intact. The young man took a deep breath, steadied himself, and took a slow step forward. The deck was pitching and rolling but he’d been aboard this ship long enough to know what storms were like. His legs adjusted to the tempest’s rhythm and he slid even closer to his lover’s crumpled form. 

“Eskel! Lambert!” Jaskier shouted to the first and second mate over the gale. “Secure the forward jib and get belowdecks! Starkey, Jukes, Silver, you batten down the mizzen sails and make sure the portside belaying pins are secure!”

“Aye Captain!” Eskel called automatically. He stopped halfway to the forward jib and glanced back over his shoulder. Geralt was still tied to the Kaer Morhen’s massive steering wheel but Jaskier was the one directing the ship’s course. The Captain himself was passed out cold, probably hit from behind by a wave and knocked against one of the wheel’s heavy beams. He’d seen it happen before but this was the first time since he’d signed aboard the Morhen. 

“Shouldn’t you be up there?” Lambert asked, gesturing vaguely through the rain towards Jaskier’s wide-legged stance at the helm. “Aren’t you the first mate?”

“Fuck it!” Eskel replied. “We don’t have time for petty nonsense. He’s making the right decisions, anyhow!”

“Grab that rope and pass it this way!” 

The men followed Jaskier’s instructions and soon the ship was battened town tightly against the raging winds and roaring waves. Somehow, with the ex-noble at the helm, they made it through the gale alive and intact.

---

Geralt woke up in his bed with a pounding headache and sunshine streaming in through the small, round porthole. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here; the last thing he remembered was...“The storm!”

“Long since passed, love.”

The bright eyed half-siren was sitting next to him, running his long fingers through the Captain’s white hair. “Jaskier, what happened?”

“You got hit from behind by a particularly nasty wave and knocked against one of the pins,” Jaskier held up a small hand-mirror. There was a mottled purple bruise above Geralt’s right eyebrow. “It’ll heal soon enough but I wouldn’t suggest getting out of bed today. Maybe even tomorrow. You could have a dizzy spell and fall overboard.”

“Hmm.” The pirate ignored the advice of his little nymph; there were things he needed to do. A ship that needed its Captain. He tried to sit up but found it nearly impossible, waves of nausea and vertigo pushing him back down against the straw mattress pad. Jaskier smirked as if to say I told you so. “Did Eskel manage to get us out of the gale alright? Was anything damaged?”

“No,” the first mate answered, poking his head through the open door. He looked tired but no worse for wear. “Your little nymph managed to steer us clear of the worst bits. There are a few torn sails but we expected that. The winds were strong and the waves were high.”

Geralt looked up at Jaskier, totally awestruck. The pride and reverence in that honey-golden gaze held Jaskier frozen in place. The siren blushed and waved a dismissive hand towards Eskel, still unable to look away from his enraptured Captain. “Go annoy Lambert or something, dear. I’m busy with my patient.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

Eskel disappeared from the doorway as soon as the siren commanded it.

“Hey,” the White Wolf frowned. “I’m the Captain. That’s my title. You’re the minx or the nymph or sometimes you little bastard but I’M the Captain.”

“It’ll be your rightful title again when you can get up from bed without hurling,” Jaskier insisted. “For now, though, let me have my fun.”

“And me?”

“I’ll take good care of you, my sweet. A good Captain always takes care of his crew.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish.”

Jaskier brushed a gentle kiss to Geralt’s bruised forehead and tangled their fingers together over the Captain’s chest. With the glow of the early morning sun framing his face and illuminating the golden highlights hidden in the noble’s brown hair, Jaskier looked like some character ripped straight from a fairytale. 

The Captain squeezed his hand where they were connected and smiled. “My little nymph.”

The half-siren laid a less-gentle kiss to Geralt’s lips.

#geraskier #geraskier pirate au #geraskier swashbuckling au #geraskier swashbuckler au #geraskier fic #geraskier ficlet #pirate au #captain geralt #siren jaskier #half siren technically but we'll get into that later #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #inspired by their art of course #ily duderoo

[crying-over-supersoldiers]

aahhh I have so much to say about this episode but as always I can barely wrap my head around everything that happened but I guess I can highlight these (read more because I went overboard and it got too damn long, also, very messy): 

John Walker talking about Steve being a role model and then daring to say (to mine and Bucky’s faces) that he’s like a brother to him. (Buck’s face will stay with me forever, props to Seb Stan)

Sambucky reunion!!!! bucky being a lil shit and bragging about reading The Hobbit when it was released (probably even had a signed copy)

Bucky being upset about Sam giving the shield

Which leads to explore more of Sam’s reasoning behind giving up the shield, and demonstrating how the very system that he’s trying to save and protect (because of the people that gets in the middle) is also against him.

 The Big Three™ (androids, aliens and wizards)

Bucky suddenly joining Sam’s mission because, imo, he’s doing what he thinks Steve wants him to do, he wants to understand more of Sam’s situation after giving the shield and convince him to steal it back. 

The Banter

Bucky having a one sided beef with Redwing (rip, little guy, hopefully we’ll see you again soon) (also, i love that we all pretend Redwing is a living being)

Both Sam and Bucky trying to don’t punch Walker while they’re on the truck and “Does he always just stare like that?” “You get used to it”.

“Battlestar?” And Bucky NOT having any of that bad hero names shit. 

Sam reminding Bucky that stealing the shield is probably not the best option, name dropping Sharon (SHARON!!!) 

Both visiting Isaiah!!!! (AND ELI!!!!) and revealing yet again another layer of the legacy that the shield carries, GOOOODDDDD, I have so many thoughts about this and how rightfully angry, disappointed, sad, Sam feels. Because this just shows that carrying the shield does not mean you suddenly become a hero, it doesn’t automatically give you respect and it won’t change that the world is fucked. 

I mean, Sam was about to be arrested in the street for daring to rise his voice to a white man. fuck that dude

John Walker trying to buy sambucky by releasing Bucky from prison 

The therapy session and Bucky once again asking about why Sam gave the shield: “If Steve was wrong about you he was wrong about me”. Showing how he’s still trying to put Steve as his moral compass. As this larger figure who believed that people can be more than what they are, and if Steve thought Bucky could be a good person again and that Sam could be Captain America, but it’s not happening; then I think Bucky has this weird equivalence of sorts where he thinks “maybe then I cannot change either”. He just doesn’t want to disappoint Steve, you know?  (Saying this again here, but I do think this is why Bucky is not trying to completely get rid off of his Winter Soldier persona, but instead reclaiming those aspects and abilities To Do Good and earn his redemption.)

BUT THEN AGAIN, Sam explaining how neither of them could understand what really is happening, what the real issue is and how he’d have to face issues that them would never have to experience. Because Sam did what he thought was right, and now he got to experience first hand (through Isaiah) what the world does to black heroes.

 ZEMO!!!! I knew they’d go to him for help, I Knew he’d be on the other side of this flag smashers at least for now. And I’m pretty sure the escenes we’ve seen on the trailer are either of the last episodes where he maybe escapes and re-emerges as a villain. Or maybe he’s also involved in everything from the inside, who knows, I’m very excited to have him back.

This got waaaay too long, thanks for reading up to this point if you’re still here :) 

#tfatws spoilers #tfatws #mine #long post #head full. many thoughts #could i have worded this better oh yes absolutely #but i would need a rewatch and to wait until i finish work so here it is

[dropsofletters]

mellow

title: mellow pairing: lee taeyong/reader genre: candy store!au/crush!au summary: candies in all shapes, wrapped by all types of papers, end up pressed to the confines of her backpack for her to enjoy when she gets back home—but she doesn’t buy them, much less does she steal them, this all comes from the mere opened heart of her secret admirer. with little notes attached, someone is trying to make her life more dulcet…and it’s obviously lee taeyong, her coworker. type: fluff/romance/humor word count: 16,364

This morning of summer can almost be tasted.

It’s humid and dense, with a sense that reminds her of the dripping of popsicles. Most of the time, she likes a passion fruit popsicle—it has some taste and is a thousand times more refreshing than some general strawberry one, but the stickiness that clings to her fingertips in reminders of the sugar overload that will follow soon after brings some sense of guilt to the back of her brain. That, maybe, a juice would be more beneficial for an adult like her, or, in this case, with all the metaphors aside, that working at a candy store is quite clearly what anyone but a Willy Wonka enthusiast wants.

Though the heat outside the store is a thousand times more unbearable than what one would imagine. The streets are filled with people in ripped shorts, oversized t-shirts and enjoying the sweetest treats from them. Though, ice cream parlors may be working on the business with more efficiency than them. She takes interest, with one hand propped underneath her chin, for the one boy that did buy a lollipop from them and he has been dipping the dulcet treat into a cup of water. He takes a lick, dips it in water, and repeats. Her bets go on the fact that this child may end up drinking the water in about ten minutes, but that may be the boredom speaking.

How not to be bored when this place is so big, yet so unpacked? The shelves, locked and only opened by workers, showcase variety of sweets, some prepared by the workers, others simply bought. The yellow walls with white flooring only remind her of the intense cleaning that comes on Wednesdays and Saturdays for her, and it will only be more of a headache with the heat that is welcoming this summer. In a way, her mind tries to wrap around the idea that there is some purpose to this: to being a candy store worker, other than simply hating the smell of sweets now that she has been there for over a year.

To make money.

And maybe, feel functionable.

But this is not a lifetime worth of dreaming.

When she hears her name being spoken, her attention diverts from the kid that broke her internal monologue—as it turns out, it takes him four minutes to drink that reddened water—. Someone’s fingertips hook on the edge of her jersey, one that includes the name of the candy store in the back; yellow is the background, but the letters are highlighted in red, and when she is pulled towards someone’s chest, she feels the strong smell of Miyoung’s vanilla scented perfume. She may have gone overboard with the coats today.

“I need you to do me a big one.” Miyoung whispers, mischief clear in the tone of her voice, wrapping up nicely with the redness of her thin lips. The woman is the light and the beam of the Valentine’s season; the reason as to why there is a business around February to start with. Miyoung goes overboard with the concept of candies—what may be cavities to some is a job for her. Daughter of the owner of this place, nothing else should be expected from her.

But she knows Miyoung’s favors. They are the type of favors that come with the youthful sense of being able to do anything, as long as there is someone to cover you. Miyoung may be cupid in February, but once summer arrives, a party is more important than being behind the white counters of the candy store. “Do I have a choice?”

“No.” Miyoung whispers, a giggle following after her voice when she lets go of her coworker. “But the solid favor I’m asking from you is simple—” She nods, not quite eager to hear about Miyoung’s rendezvouses, the solid taste of the vanilla in the air already dizzying her. “There is this new guy that works in the sports store across the street. I need him to…look my way.”

That shouldn’t be difficult. Miyoung is the epitome of fireworks, exploding in beautiful colors, leaving people entranced even when the noise is sometimes unbearably loud. Some fear her. Some love her. Life just isn’t the same without someone like her. “…Do you need me to talk to him?”

“No. You’re not much of a talker to start with.”

“Case closed, then.”

“What? No, no, no!” Before she could scavenge away into the depths of the candy store, perhaps wishing to have a bag of chips instead of being surrounded by future cavities in all shapes, Miyoung grabs at her. Something about the way she holds her always triggers something inside of her. It sets the fire alarms up inside her head, makes her feel as though she needs to prick her hands away, as if being held too strongly only reminded her of the position she is in. In a place in her life in which she cannot do anything more than…not care. Not care that she has a job she doesn’t like. Not care that she doesn’t have a dream. Just…pretend ignorance. “A client contacted us via Instagram today. They need a bouquet of chocolates for this afternoon at four,” One look at her watch is enough to tell her that she has two hours to work through this order. “And I should be the one to do it, because I’m normally in charge of that…but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

But it is not.

She doesn’t know when this somberness started inside of her. When looking at her messages only brought her dread, instead of that warmth that should wrap her up when people care about her. When the taste in the back of her tongue turned bitter. When, in some way or another, she’d find herself looking in the mirror, quirking her lips upward, sometimes doing half a smirk, other times just showing all teeth and gums, trying to find the shape of her smile. It has not been there in a while. Someone once told her to love all of her—the light side, the dark side, the in-between, but now she doesn’t even think she has color to her personality. Not a bubbly yellow. Not a subtle pink. Not a relishing blue. Not a green for calmness. Not a purple for complexity.

Blank, because she doesn’t think she knows the difference between the past and the future. It doesn’t represent her as a blank canvas, but as someone who doesn’t know how to paint themselves, instead. Miyoung, on the other hand, has taken every opportunity of what she has wanted and whatever the outcome has been—positive or negative—has shown her that every decision will only make her grow. Meanwhile, she doesn’t think she has changed. At all. No growth. No worsening. Just…invisible.

“Go get that number.” She tells her, because that smile on Miyoung’s face reminds her of hope. The type of woman who’d date a thousand times and believe in true love, still, Miyoung is. She’s the personification of summer, throwing that jersey on the counter with a swoosh before trotting towards the entrance, not before leaving her with a:

“I’d kiss you if I could!”

And the door closes, not as harsh as one would have imagined, simply leaving her with the ringing of the bell on top of the door, and strangely enough, not alone. Her hands work on folding the jersey; firstly, folding it in half, then pulling the sleeves in, making an ‘L’ shape with them, and folding it in half once again, and it’s settled. A bit puffy, but settled. This is what she does until she feels someone’s gaze on her, not burning, not making her feel uncomfortable, but it’s there—like a flickering light. It leaves. It stays. It makes itself known again, and then it fears her.

Once she does turn and decides to get to work, nearing the chocolate area of the store, she realizes that the only person that can be looking at her is, of course, Lee Taeyong. She catches herself wondering, for a second, if he’d look better with dark hair, for all she has seen is that bleached blonde, summer bombshell look on him. Sometimes, he sleeks it back; other times, he just plays with the heartstrings of people to show the two stances of his eyes. When shown at their full expanse, paired with his straight eyebrows and his nicely shaped face structure, they almost feel as though they pull her in…as in one step closer becomes a hundred, and a breath never is enough. When they are hidden behind his bangs, most of the time working on placing the candies on bags and giving them to the clients, he almost appears shy. Most of the time, the latter overtakes him.

Because Lee Taeyong is so different from Miyoung, and so different from herself. So different from Jonoh, who is off to the doctor’s today. Miyoung may be the example of summer, she radiates flirtation just like she radiates innocence, she never settles, never quite meets a man that meets up her expectations and falling out of love comes as second nature to her. She believes someone will sweet her off her feet, though. Jonoh is an enthusiast of pretending like he has his life figured out—and she may be judging, he probably does have it sorted out—but there is something about him that just screams faux. The poems he recites, the way he always knows what to say and when to say it, no one should be like that all the time.

And herself, of course, when unwrapping the plastic paper to put around the bouquet of chocolates, sunflowers glistening on the almost invisible material, she finally gets to compare herself to Taeyong. Not to say that she always felt empty, like there was something lacking in her—but it started surely. One day, life tried to show her that no matter how many workshops she installed herself in, how many shows she watched in order to find a road for her to take, she’d never be anything memorable. Not the kind to be a muse, no, she’s not that—she’s not the kind to lead a group of people, much less is she the one to speak first, but the one to speak last and go ignored. The more she tried to come up with a reminder of what makes her interesting, she’d find blankness.

But Taeyong is not too dulcet, just like he’s not too acid. But he’s definitely softened up, like chewing gum, in a way. He stays and stays, makes people addicted, waiting to have some more of him before someone else stops them. Chewing gum is said to stick to the stomach—and she has never proved if it’s right or wrong—but something about it resonates with her image of Taeyong. As if, once inside his life, no one would even dare to go out.

The process of making a bouquet of chocolates is not generally easy. To pick the chocolate bars and arrange them in place in order to make them stay in position, as well as nicely shaped, is an art-form on its own. Taeyong and Jonoh normally verge into the depths of making candy, while Miyoung is the one in love with the arrangements. Now in her position and opening the shelves that include some chocolate bars of differing tastes, she wonders if it’s up to her to make herself memorable.

It may be.

“What’s your favorite type of chocolate?”

The sound of Taeyong’s voice, a bit deepened, surprises her. So much so that the chocolate bar could have slipped in between her fingertips had she not caught it with more precision. He rarely talks to her, for the same reason that Miyoung states—she doesn’t talk much to start with, and he just simply seems to back away whenever she is around. The only times that she does talk with Taeyong is when clients are around, but that is not their situation currently.

Gently closing the lid of the shelf, she moves onto another one, looking for white chocolates to match. Perhaps, some Hershey’s…and she may grab some kisses on the way there, too. May add a good touch as small flowers for the bouquet. “I don’t like sweets,” She says with her whole chest, like she prides on being an irony. Being exactly what no one would ever expect from her, because she has no expectations whatsoever. “I feel like they are overrated.”

When moving towards the counter, sprawling the chocolates in between her arms onto the surface, she catches a glimpse of Taeyong’s brown eyes glistening and she’d say she has met the beauty of the earth in that simple glisten. It feels as though the desert is being illuminated by stars, and she gets to see it on the front row. “Oh, I’ve never heard that!” He says, excitement in his tone, but then it dulls back into that scared, softer one. “I’m supposing you have allergies to some of them, or they don’t settle well with you.”

To suppose something about someone may come off as rude to some, but to listen to what Taeyong envisions of her feels as somewhat of an experiment. He, who clearly doesn’t know her, has already painted an image out of the invisibility she imagines herself to be. “Not really,” She says, slicing some duct-tape to put the chocolate bars together. “I’ve just been surrounded by sweets while working here, and I got tired of them.”

“I could never.” He says, and she wishes she could dive further into the lack of knowledge that she has of him, but maybe it’s the task at hand…or it’s this fear of filling that void that she has grown inside of her, sulking her and leaving her all alone, trying to grow used to it and now too entranced to ever let go that is keeping her from doing so. “Don’t even get me started on Kit Kats. I can’t go for more than two weeks without having a Kit Kat.”

When she looks at him, she can only smile in return—because that smile of his reaches his eyes, creates the sun on his face alone, leaves her astounded at the mere existence of him. Strangers, they are, and they shall remain that…for she’s far too lonely, far too somber to ever eat up the light that is Lee Taeyong. “I see. That’s good.”

And he looks like he wants to say something else, tongue peeking out to wet his lips, as if wishing to leave a poem for her to think about for the rest of the day, a memory that tells her that he has seen color in her…but it’s up to her to discover which. Instead, Taeyong leaves it as a hum, as if he changed his mind.

Or maybe, she’s just trying to make her life more interesting by daydreaming about him.

“Yes.” He says. “If you need help, I’m somewhere around here.”

“Thanks.”

The air is suddenly too sweet, but not because of the chocolates in between her fingers or because she works at a candy store…but because she finally has found a conceptualization for Taeyong.

The aftertaste of the best sweet someone could have in their life.

###

The complexity of the passage of time has merged into nothingness for her. It could be Wednesday, and the only difference in her routine would be that she has to stay for a while longer—clean up after the envelopes that the clients plucked away from their desired candies and put anywhere but in the trash can. She rarely looks at her watch to check the time, simply lets the broom touch the flooring thanks to her motions, knowing that after going back home, there wouldn’t be much to do.

The reason why she is there without caring about the world around her may be deeper than the boredom she feels towards life. It may have to deal with the man with the matching yellow jersey, with his skinny hands working on playing with his special dough for the cookies that have been selling out in the store. To see him working after hours is enough of a question mark for her—because he likes this job, likes the dulcet smell around the store, and adores creating the little pieces of baked goods that they sell every once in a while.

Taeyong, unlike her, either conforms with his life or he thinks there is some pride in what he does. Some beauty in splaying chocolate kisses on the dough before parting his fingertips, the beige tone of the mixture sticking to the olive skin. She still tries to figure it out…or figure him out. As to why Taeyong sticks to her brain whenever she sees him, and why someone like him can barely hold her gaze before he has to depart it.

The broom becomes the companion of her dance, the envelopes of candy and plastic bags being thrown into their respective recycling bins. Leaning her weight on the broom, the woodened material of the stick digging a bit on her chest, she lets herself think of the reason why Taeyong seems to be scared of her.

Is she terrifying?

Is her lack of words the reason of his awkwardness?

Is her taste too sour, her lips too closed, her mind too closed up?

Someone as bright as him probably thinks she is crazy.

Blowing out oxygen into her surroundings, with her lips parted and her back hurting from the bent position done for cleaning, she thinks of leaving…but she doesn’t. Instead, she leaves the broom on the storage room, passing by the opened doors of the kitchen and staring at Taeyong’s profile.

Unleash her from her thoughts of beauty, because she has a concept of him that could never be erased from her brain. The scar underneath his eye shows that perfection was never the rule, that tainted and memorable is more of a notion for remembering. His hair is parted today, thick strands a source of questioning because that hair-dye he has on his hair looks everything but nourishing, eyebrows drown into a frown, thin lips puckered up while he tries to integrate every bit of the chocolate. His jaw protrudes, giving angles that match the ones of his shoulders, of his hellishly elongated legs.

“Did you add Kit Kats?” She asks, not noticing that her voice is too low, and she repeats herself again to capture his attention. Taeyong looks up from the rolled doughs that he is placing on a tray, shining with flour and butter to stop them from sticking to the surface. If she had to describe this situation, she’d say that confusion is more of what he must be feeling.

“Don’t make fun of me.” Taeyong quirks an eyebrow, already working on parting a little bit of the dough and holding it up with gloved fingers. “Have a taste and see if you can guess which brand of chocolates I used.”

“I am not Willy Wonka. I don’t think I will get it.” But she gets closer, because there is a reason as to why Taeyong has people sighing at the mere sight of him—everyone wants a bite of him, and under other circumstances, she may have gone for it. When her converse shoes have dragged her close enough to him, she parts her lips and lets the taste coat her tongue. Taeyong’s cheeks dust themselves in heat, reddened because of the hotness of the oven.

“It’s pretty easy.” He shrugs, once again forming little balls of cookies. Instead, she lets the colorful taste serve as some pointing arrows as to what this candy is about. It tastes like it has some color in it, as weird as it is to explain that, as in there is some substance that has Taeyong’s gloves painted in colors of red, green and yellow. Soon after, the creaking of chocolate mixed with the unbaked dough brings a feeling of recognition. Something she may have had in her youth, when she was a child and plopping sugary treats inside her mouth was less of a headache.

“M&M’s?” She asks softly, only to have Taeyong gasping at her words. The widest of smiles appears on his features, and it is one of the most…prohibited features she has seen on Taeyong, as if it’s a rare occurrence, or it has never been directly thrown her way. Bags form under his eyes, guests of his sweetened lips, and he likes to move a bit—as if the happiness is too much to overtake inside him.

“You do know your sweets!” He says.

“I never said I didn’t. I just said I’m not much of a sweets lady.”

Taeyong turns around, the expanse of her back the art she looks at when her tongue peaks out to capture her lips in a tight line. The bones on his back become prominent, his arms folding to get the tray inside the opened oven before closing it softly. “Why is that?”

“I grew up, I guess.” Nothing more escapes her lips, and she swears she sees some movement of Taeyong patting his cheeks, letting out some soft breaths before turning the lights low just by looking at her while smiling shyly.

“Want me to give you some candy recommendations?” Taeyong asks in the sweetest of tones, and she may get diabetes just from hearing him speak. So, instead, she shakes her head, always returning that grin to him.

“I think I’ll pass. Sweet is not something I’d pair up with me.” She replies, walking away from the counter with kicks of her shoes, as if dragging her steps will make her stay longer and learn that she could see inside a world much brighter, filled with tastes and smells of nothing but happiness.

A little whine leaves his lips, not expected from someone like him. For someone so scarily pretty-looking, Taeyong has softened edges. “Aw, it’s okay!” He says, looking around the room before folding his hands in front of his body, not sparing her a glance when he says: “If you want to try some candy, you can always tell me. I know my way around here.”

Why isn’t he looking at her? She wants to voice this out, but instead, she leaves it all with a hum. “Alright.” Just like the finalization of any conversation in between the two, she leaves it as is. “It’s my turn to close, so I’ll wait outside—”

Taeyong finally looks at her, shaking his head at her words. “I’ll close, don’t worry. I ran out of time to make the cookies and I have to bake them and let them rest for tomorrow morning.”

“Are you sure?”

With his lips barely parting and his voice spoken in a breath, he says: “Yes.” Which could have been a caress of the wind for how soft it was, leaving her with a twirl of her heart inside her chest, dancing at his might.

God, she doesn’t know how Miyoung hasn’t gotten her hands on him when Taeyong is just that absolutely astonishing.

“Thank you, Taeyong.” She finishes, only to have Taeyong leaning far too close to the oven, before wincing at the heat.

“Yeah, no worries.”

One good look at his face is enough to scream at her to be more open, to not make someone like him uncomfortable, but unlocking her heart for anyone would only suffice as self-anger and pain. Instead, she decides to be flavorless again, leaving with a curt nod of her head and a wave of her hand.

If he saw inside her, he’d be past terrified—he’d be completely uninterested. He’d think of her as a miniscule, insecure woman.

Isn’t that what everyone thinks?

###

The song that is stuck to her head almost sounds like a choir of angels.

But goddamn it, she has forgotten the name.

It is stuck inside her head, repeating itself in the chorus but even though she has looked up the little words she can remember, nothing comes up. With one look at her face, she wonders if her mind is trying to tell her something—if this love song is supposed to be the personification of her today. Hair tousled, lips reddened with the faint existence of the kiss of Miyoung’s lipstick—the one that Miyoung has insisted on having her try before smearing it on top of her lips, far too bright for her to enjoy—, dust of her mascara falling under her eyelids, the curl that she had put on them leaving its trail for something straighter. For some reason, today she feels like she is a bit different.

Maybe, because the candy store has not been too packed, or because Miyoung is here and doing her best in having her try the new pieces of makeup she had bought just to see how they work. Because, for today, she actually feels like a glimpse of the word beautiful but no one is there to see her. Taeyong, who had started his day in the kitchen, had practically stayed there for the rest of the day and even though she would want to complain about the lack of him, she knows that if he was there, she wouldn’t utter more than a few words.

Some people are songs. Once, she said that Taeyong was chewing gum…and that still stands, but she wonders what kind of song Taeyong is. His playlist, whenever the speakers of the store are at his mercy, includes a lot of rap beats, chiller ones, songs that have the oddest of sounds leaving his lips…overall pretty fashionable, but what we like as humans is not what we are. Taeyong is not a jazzy song, he’s not an upbeat disco tune, he’s also not a rock song that speaks about sex and the complexity of the political system.

Taeyong is that one song that roams her head, but that she, in the depth of her soul, doesn’t know.

That one song that she fantasizes about.

That one song that, in retrospect, she’ll never find.

Someone closes her hand that had been wrapped around the little compact powder mirror, and her skin gets caught in between the lid, wincing at the small yet intricate pain. The culprit of such appears in front of her, with his buzzcut and sharp features, a matching yellow jersey and a quirk of his eyebrow. This is Jonoh, now much better from the flu that had overtook him.

“Yes, Jonoh?”

Just like Miyoung, Jonoh always expects something in return. She once heard Miyoung say that he’d drink the blood out of a corpse if he could with how much of an opportunist he is. A nice guy, not to be mistaken, but simply a copy of Miyoung in what comes from asking favors out of her. “Care to lend me your backpack?”

Even when a question is about to slip from her tongue, she lets her hand blindly look for her backpack under the counter. “Why do you need my backpack?”

Though, it does go well with Jonoh’s slim frame, the black backpack spacious enough to hold pockets in its pockets. He grasps it in between his fingers, splays it on top of his shoulder, once she throws it at him. “I’m going to buy some stuff at the supermarket, and I’d carry a watermelon on my hands all the way here, but I just started in the gym and I want to get my back muscles to pop out.”

She wants to question it, she really does, but all she dares to do is squint. “…Okay. Weird.”

“You should try it some time.”

“Working out?”

“Yep. With me.”

“No, thanks.”

The art of not caring—one of those isms that she wishes she could have never discovered. Letting go of a thread only to be left by the gray colors of life is not what she expected in the first part of her adulthood, but it is what happened. To sit down and think about what could have gone differently is not like her, to pretend like this is normality is more of what she does. To live in this limbo, this flowing nature of a lake that swims her away from her dreams…the ones that she never got to know or to explore.

Jonoh is someone she doesn’t question, not when he speaks some more and she doesn’t listen, not when he leaves. Jonoh is living his life in the most expected of healthy ways—his body says so, his skin screams so, and his nature just sends off the vibes of someone who will, probably, last until he is eighty or some years old. If he wants the backpack for some watermelon, then who is she to question those who have their ways of living?

“What’s the watermelon for?” She asks Miyoung, who looks up from her phone to let her eyes glisten in excitement.

“We’re trying some watermelon limeade cocktails, so I asked him to buy some. If everything goes well, we may sell them to our friends and create a business. I’ve been dying to get into cocktail-making.” The woman responds, and she doesn’t question their actions further.

Coming back home, she feels like rubbing all the worries away with some scrub and some lotion. The smell of baked goods from the kitchen in which Jonoh left her backpack, she wants to wash away, just like how she wants to feel more alive. Hair cleaner, smelling like that one chocolate conditioner she felt like buying—it’s a dense product, but the smell reminds her of something that she can’t quite pinpoint. Taeyong, maybe, in a way, in the shape in which he wraps his lips around a slice of a chocolate every once in a while, to taste it before adding it to his concoctions.

Looking at the moles on her body, the hairs on her arms, the mere reflection of her in the mirror, there is something that bothers her. Those inner thoughts that sometimes have no reasoning, like how she feels the need to search for that one song again, and hence, she has to look for her headphones. In one of the pockets of her backpack, it is, she knows this much, but she kneels down and hears the cracking of her bones, letting the zipper of said backpack slide in between her fingertips, she realizes that there are little thoughts that unconditionally appear to make bigger discoveries.

Her damp hair falls on each side of her face when she lets her knees fully fall on the flooring, taking the number of candies that are in her bag. The first one that she grabs are some coffee-based candy, the bitter reminder that once left her lips when talking to Miyoung a few months back. She said that coffee candy is the worst conceptualization to ever exist, because candy is normally aimed at children, and to have the taste of caffeine—something that, normally, is not aimed for little people—on the hard candy is just too much for her to understand. It’s not sweet. It’s not bitter. It tastes like dirt. Those were her words.

And whoever placed the bag filled with five coffee candies must have heard her conversation, because a small piece of paper glued to the surface read: “These don’t taste like dirt. I know how difficult it is to find good coffee candies, but these are my favorite. I hope you enjoy them.” A smiley face finishes that message, and the other ones in the other seven small plastic bags she finds inside her backpack.

Curiousness is what she feels when a bag of M&M’s is presented, but only the blue ones because: “The blue ones taste like almonds, and I want you to ease into sweets!”

She finds more notes, ones that always leave her with that smiley face. Two dots, and a crooked line, sometimes bigger, sometimes smaller. The thought of anyone but Jonoh doing this could almost be foreign, because he was the one with the backpack and he was the one that never returned it, but it has her scrunching up her nose when she unleashes some of the candies from their bags and lets them plop inside her mouth.

She has never paid enough attention to anyone’s handwriting—Miyoung’s, Jonoh’s or Taeyong’s. This could have been a clear indicator of who had listened to her conversations and given a piece of their mind in the form of sweet knowledge. Jonoh is the clear sign here, but he’s not a romanticist…much less has he thrown any signs that he might be into her. Much less Taeyong, he just seems to be absolutely terrified of her.

So, this leaves Jonoh…since Miyoung would never.

But this brings a flutter to her chest, has her smiling when she finally enjoys the sweetened taste of the blue M&M’s and they do taste different, like almonds with chocolate. It relishes her skin, makes her feel a little bit more given to life when she plops down on her bed and stares up at those smiley faces. They drag her into a mindset of warmth that she doesn’t think she has felt in a while, the pool of wet hair under her making her skin shiver at the touch of the pillow. A smile finally appears on her face, genuine when she licks her lips and wonders about the certainty of this.

Jonoh…huh?

###

“Ooh, who’s that cutie over there?”

Miyoung’s tone is nicely coated in a compliment, the flirty existence of her palpitating in her words when she pulls the edge of her skirt down. The motion from her coworker has her looking down at the expanse of her legs, the jersey matching the white t-shirt underneath paired with her high waisted skirt. It’s a difficult outfit to pull off—not because it’s anything special, but because it’s the first time that she tries doing something different with it to go to work, and it has her feeling…not that empty.

Because, for the last two weeks, the taste of something sweet has ended on her tongue and it is the felicity of feeling like she can care as much as this secret admirer does. Care for herself, treat herself nicely, let life have colors and shapes. Well, secret admirer as in Jonoh, because he’s the only person that has been, clearly, in contact with her backpack, asking for it every once in a while.

“Am I the cutie?” She asks, playing around with the remote of the television that should be changing channels by now…but as it turns out, the remote is not working. Giving up on the task, she looks over her shoulder to see Miyoung nodding, a gleeful smile given to her when she wraps an arm around her shoulder.

“Yes. That skirt is…whew, it’s a killer for sure.” Miyoung compliments and that is enough to have her chest filled with some hope. Perhaps, she’s not as dulled as she thinks she is. “You have to lend it to me some time soon. I’ve been trying to get the sport store guy’s attention since forever, but it’s like—like, fuck, like he doesn’t notice me.”

“I’m sure he does.” She says. “What did you say he was called the other day?”

“Yoonoh.”

“Want me to help you out with him?”

Miyoung moves her head from side to side, pointing out each word that she had heard at least once. “You don’t talk much. How are you going to get a guy to pay attention to me?”

She shrugs, because she doesn’t know…but she feels like doing something different with her life. Not something risky, or something that could potentially leave her in a frustrated state, but talking more and seeing what could happen along with that. “I could. I have nothing to lose.” And she thinks about grabbing her phone from her backpack and strutting towards the sport store to ask for Yoonoh’s number, and invent the possible ways in which Miyoung may find another prince charming, but when her fingers come in contact with the initially empty backpack, she is surprised to feel packages of candy. Again.

Not to say that happiness does not bubble inside of her when she receives said candy, because it feels like something is popping within her heart when it happens—but just like those kinds of pop rocks that make noise but dissipate after a while. Whoever is doing this—Jonoh, apparently—is spending way too much money on her, as well as invading her privacy in one way or another. She lifts her backpack to rest on top of the counter, hearing Miyoung speak as she plays around with her phone.

“…And like, yeah, I think maybe it could work. Since you’re so quiet, it could help you out—”

But she is not listening to her, because across from her she can see the image that she has inside her head when she reads those notes that Jonoh writes. Taeyong. The blond man that is yawning, head thrown back for the slightest second to show the expanse of his neck, and then he continues preparing a box which purpose must be to become a gift. Whenever she looks at him, she always thinks of sweets—even past that but of the taste itself, as if any fruit that dares fight the sugar in him will never come close.

Taeyong shares a glance with her, the kind that makes his lower eyelashes look longer with the tilt of his head and that leaves his lips plumper, with shadows that she dares herself to not think about. Ever. He’s a daydream, in the color of yellow in his jersey, in the way he simply diverts his gaze and breaks away that dream that she wants to be true. Because…all arrows point at Jonoh, at the lingering laughter and the comfort that he has around her, but Taeyong would be a better option. It would feel sweeter.

“What’s Taeyong’s deal with me?” She speaks softly, finally looking away from him when he widens his eyes to himself thinking that she is not staring. But she is. And whatever Miyoung has said is interrupted by this question, that has the woman with the big, dolled-up curls on her hair checking the culprit of her thoughts out before Miyoung sighs.

“He’s terrified of you,” Miyoung says, and she takes this as a sign to put the backpack over her shoulder and stop fantasizing about a certain candy man called Taeyong, and simply talk about this issue that has been lasting for two weeks with Jonoh. “But I wouldn’t take it as an offense—”

“Is he scared of you?”

“No, but—”

“Then, it’s an offense.” She conquers, only to have Miyoung taking her by the edges of her jersey and fixing it accordingly.

“Don’t think about it too much. You know how guys who like anime are. They’re weird.”

But that is definitely not it. Miyoung is not looking past this picture of Taeyong that screams that he doesn’t want to be near her.

Her struts are as confident as they can get as she nears Jonoh, whose headphones are tightly placed over his ears, body swinging to the sound of his favorite tunes. His jersey is falling off one shoulder, arranging the candies by color simply to please the boss, and it takes various taps of her fingers against his arms for him to pay attention to her. If she had to conceptualize him in words that she has known for the past year, she would say that Jonoh is one hundred percent cotton candy. He is sweet, dissipates on the tongue, then leaves. His trail doesn’t stay with her, doesn’t cling to her skin, much less does she think of him as much as she thinks of Taeyong, her other coworker.

Her backpack slides off her shoulder, leaving it open for her to show the contents to the man in front of her. “Why are you placing these inside my backpack? I have a lifetime worth of candy in my apartment and now, I have even more.” She tries to tell him, going around the subject that if this is in any way anything more than platonic, she’d have to say no. Nothing against Jonoh, but he simply doesn’t move the boat in her sea.

Jonoh finally lets his tranquil face fall and the quirk of his eyebrow is the woe of her afternoon. Confusion, rather. “Have you gone nuts? I only put a watermelon in, work out, take it out. I don’t put candy inside of it.”

“Well, I’m getting candy. And I’m not nuts.” But the look on Jonoh’s face tells her that he doesn’t believe her, and while initially she believes that he is fronting whatever sentiment issues his heart, she believes that if he got caught, Jonoh would be the type to giggle it out and confess it. “Swear on my life that you haven’t placed anything but watermelons inside my backpack.”

“…I swear?” Jonoh indicates, voice void of insecurity. This alone makes her look over her shoulder, the shadow of Taeyong long gone as he talks to Miyoung. The woman is already placing stacks of chocolate bars on his arms for him to help her with a chocolate bouquet, and the way he eyes the M&M’s settles uncomfortably on her stomach.

…The first type of chocolate she got were blue M&M’s.

Someone grabs her by the shoulders, thick hands wrapping around her muscles when Jonoh leans down to look into her eyes. “…I have nothing to do with whatever you’re accusing me off. Candy theft? Not me.”

That leaves Miyoung and Taeyong as the culprits. Both opened to the opportunity of sneaking some treats inside her backpack.

And Taeyong actually smiles to Miyoung, laughing at something the woman says when she nudges his side, but when his eyes trail towards her and she dares give him a tight lipped smile—the most anyone could ask for her when her heart is racing with confusion, imagining Taeyong listening to every conversation she has had in which she has complained about candy, the only response he dares to give her is a shy beam and soon after, he’s looking away.

Could it be—?

No. Before she gets overexcited about the possibility of Taeyong, out of all people, taking the time to battle his fear of her and communicate in a way that is not face-to-face personal, she shakes her head and opts to push the memory to the back of her head. To stack candy up, she may end up doing, for it would be impossible for him to just do such…a thoughtful thing for her when he can’t even hold her gaze.

###

Summer is gone to leave orange in its wake, the red popsicles that once represented it fading into a softer tone. Her covered feet caress the leaves on the flooring, creaking under the step of her boots, all thanks to her position while waiting for the bus, seated on a bench. This is the part of her day in which times stop, her head lulling back to stare at the cars passing by on top of the gray concrete. Normally accompanied, she gets to hear one or two conversations, update herself in lives of people she doesn’t know. Today, however, the only person by the bus station took the first bus to arrive and she still had fifteen minutes more to wait.

The world is not quiet, but it feels like it is. Friday afternoon and everyone is preparing to do something with their lives; to scald their tongues with recently cooked meals from their favorite restaurants, to meet up with friends and down a few drinks, or simply to binge-watch a show that they have been dying to see. In her part of the world, she almost laughs at her option for what to do on a Friday afternoon, a copy of a retelling of Hansel and Gretel displayed on her phone, the horror of it all exaggerated and hence, not capturing her attention as much.

Something, something candy house. Something, something witch.

What exactly is her Friday afternoon after work?

Letting the screen of her phone rest upside down on her thigh, she decides to look around the bus station to find something to do. A group of skaters are not too far away, clouds of smoke blown into the air as they do tricks on their skateboards, though there are those that lay their bodies against the sidewalk, as if they are owners of the place. Instead of concentrating her gaze on them, however, her mind wanders to the sound of footsteps nearing her. Perhaps, another person waiting for the bus.

The music on this person’s headphones hums lightly in the background, meaning that it is loud enough for her to hear and the song alone should be enough to recognize who it is. Her gaze lifts to connect to Taeyong’s face, looking down at his phone before he lets his brown eyes eat her alive with one mere glance at her. Maybe, part of her imagination is playing a game on her, in the way his eyes softly fall to her lips and then, his lips lift up the slightest. His jersey is long gone, perhaps packed inside his backpack that looks a little bit puffier than usual, leaving the expanse of his arms up for her to watch when he takes a seat beside her.

“Hi.” He greets in a softened tone, and once the word is repeated by her, Taeyong parts his gaze from her. His headphones are resting around his neck when he looks up at the ceiling of the bus stop, legs parted the slightest bit. “Have you been waiting here for long?”

“Kind of,” She asks, her heart palpitating at the image of the letters that she keeps treasured inside her bedside table, organized by date and met with that same smiley face. Taeyong has always been the person she wanted to be the source of said candy gifts, months ago given every day, but now delivered to her through her backpack every few weeks. “You were in cleaning duty, right?”

“Yes.” Taeyong breathes out, running his fingers through his recently dyed black hair and it suits him even more than the blonde. It makes the depth of his eyes almost dangerous, a black hole in the universe for her to get lost in. If he dares look at her, that is. With her attention on him, she watches as Taeyong scowls at something from across the street, his fingers wrapping around the zipper of his backpack. “Those guys are looking at you weirdly.”

Gazes are thrown her way, to the expanse of her legs on her flowy skirt and tights, and she doesn’t miss the way one of them cackles as if one look her way is enough to be considered a comedy. “…I think they’re making fun of me.” She answers, plain and boring, but the warmth of something being placed on top of her thighs confuses her, the image of Taeyong’s jersey splayed on top of her legs engulfing her in the scent of his cologne, his body hovering over the slightest bit.

Taeyong, from up close, shows a glimpse of anger when he huffs at the people from across the street. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not okay to look at anyone like that, it’s creepy.”

“It’s not that big of a deal—”

“It is,” Taeyong softens his voice, finally sparing her a glance that connects her to a part of his train of thought that only showcases his caring nature even more. “Because you were out here alone. What if those guys did anything to you? There are like five guys there and you’re only one person. They could have—”

Her fingers wrap around his hands that are making motions in the air to further explain his point, when she lets a smile graze her features. “You’re here now. Don’t worry.”

The heat of Taeyong’s neck goes up to his cheeks, leaves the littlest bit of perspiration on the surface, caressing his ears in a pink tone that has him, once again, looking away. “I guess, but I’m not the toughest of guys.”

“I know.” Finally, she gets to say something in between a laugh and it comes naturally with Taeyong. As if, for some reason, he’s able to paint colors into her life.

At that, he leans back against the bench. “Are you making fun of me?” She swears there is a pout to his tone, a jut of his bottom lip when she shakes her head.

“I think it’s cute.” Damn her for saying those words, leaving her lips far too quickly, dizzying her when she stares ahead and watches the bus pull up a little bit earlier than expected. Perhaps, five minutes before the time in which she expected it to arrive. With wobbly legs and Taeyong’s jersey being held in between her hands, she speaks up. “That’s my bus. So, that’s—”

“I’ll get in with you!” Taeyong is already up his feet, cheeks tinted in colors that could battle this autumn. “Just in case someone dares bother you.”

With quickened movements, she gets inside the bus, not forgetting to acknowledge the driver to let her pass, along with her coworker. “You’re staying so you can fight the bad guys?” Taking one of the seats by the back, she is surprised when Taeyong hums.

“I’d fight them for you.” And she doesn’t miss the way he fixes his jersey on top of her legs once again, perhaps to keep her warm, or maybe because his senses told him about something she hadn’t seen in those guys.

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.” Taeyong breathes out, limbs interlocked with his backpack that is pressed to his chest, and the scenery outside the windows could never compare to the beauty of him from up close. To the way he finally seems to be more comfortable with talking to her, even when his pupils shake the slightest.

“…I thought you hated me.”

This catches him off guard, his saliva getting caught in the back of his throat, rosy lips letting out short coughs that breathe out his question: “W—What?” Cough. “You really t—thought that?” Two more coughs are added.

In retrospect, Taeyong has been nothing but nice…yet, fearful. The type of fearful that comes with ghosts, with a noise in the middle of the night, with a videogame that has a soundtrack so chilling that it keeps you playing…but you want to do nothing more than run away. That is what Taeyong had exuded for her, and seeing him being the slightest bit more comfortable with her is welcomed, yet foreign. “Well…you always get scared when you’re around me.” A shrug of her shoulders is enough to highlight her point. “I thought it was because you thought I was mean or something.”

“No!” Taeyong speaks too quickly, clasping one hand over his mouth when one of the people in front of them gives them a onceover, and not a pleased one to start with. “That’s not it.”

“So, you’re not scared of me?” She asks, voice hopeful, tiny, albeit a bit breathy.

“Of course not,” And the certainty of his tone is enough to lift the wings of worry off her back, leaving her as a fallen angel. As if, for once, there is a glimmer of hope for something crafted out of the pure beauty of life. “I just—Since you never really talk much to me, but are always talking to Miyoung, I sincerely thought you hated me.”

She raises her eyebrows, eyelids fluttering continuously in blinks. Hating Lee Taeyong? “I don’t hate you.”

“No?”

“No!” She says, watching as Taeyong wraps his fingers around a plastic bag. The reddened sweets inside are elongated and seem sticky, reddened in the shape of licorice. “I think you misunderstand me. I’m just not that talkative, much less with people like…you.”

Taeyong’s confusion is clear on his face, biting down on his lips when he asks: “Like me?”

“Like you,” She repeats. “You’re practically the sun made person. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable with me being…all empty inside and stuff.” The confession has her, for once, looking away from him. As if saying it out loud makes her fear that Taeyong will see her differently, like everyone did. Instead, she feels the licorice being slipped in between her fingertips, just in time for Taeyong to grip her fingertips and help her fist close around the strands of sweetened treats.

“You’re not that,” He says, merely a whisper when he takes a bite of his licorice, and with his lips smacking to fight the sweetness, she mirrors his actions. “You’re just…mysterious?” It seems as though he is trying to look for the perfect word, and she can’t help but laugh.

Her head moves up and down in some form of a nod. “What a way to put it.”

“I mean it!”

“Taeyong—”

The man closes his backpack as he speaks, but a glimpse of it shows particularly wrapped plastic bags with candies of all sorts. Similar to the ones she gets, lacking the notes that she finds herself reading time and time again. Could it be that Taeyong is the candy giver that has earned a piece of her heart with his smiley faces? “I don’t know how to explain people, or you, or anyone. I just know that…ever since you started working at the candy store, I wanted to be your friend.” Taeyong adds. “And I’ve been doing a terrible job, but maybe, I had to be more open about it?”

“Maybe,” The giggle that escapes her takes her off guard. Embarrasses her, really, how could he not realize that a simple glance at him is enough to have her swooning with pieces of her imagination that create a puzzle of him? “Are you going the same way I am or did you just get in the bus to tell me this?”

“…The latter, kind of. I’m making sure you get home safe.”

“Oh, I see.” She replies, letting out a soft sigh when she takes a bite of the licorice again. “These are good, by the way.”

“I did say I have a good taste in candy once, didn’t I?”

That only points more arrows at him, gives him a light that casts down on him and calls him her candy boy.

But Taeyong wouldn’t go through all that hassle just to become her friend, right?

###

One certain image has etched itself in her brain since she started talking to Taeyong regularly.

His back hunched, knees propped near her backpack, slipping those plastic bags filled with candy, fingertips covered in remaining touches of the ink from his black pen, picking out his favorite—yet different—tastes in sweets for her to taste, all connecting with words said in between the walls of her workplace. His eyes, shaky. His lips, drawn into a thin line. His feet moving with precision, wanting to be silent. His scent splayed on that piece of her wardrobe that has brought her happiness for the past few months. Sometimes, she wishes for this imagery to be true, and in the most intricate parts of her brain…she feels as though it is a possibility.

At first, she had thought that it’d be too much for him, for Taeyong said he wanted to be her friend, but someone like him would not have to go to such calibers in order to reach the friendship status with her. But, with the newest addition of candy to her collection, some Hershey kisses in a whitened tone that her candy boy, as she dared to call him, had sent her, she wonders if she’s right. She may be, with the glimpses of her imagination crafting an image of Taeyong that makes her heart races, creates him as more than a mere friend and coworker but paints him as the honeyed name that she wants dripping from her lips, syllables highlighted by the interest in him.

By a crush. The one that she has denied for months, pushed to the depths of hell only to come back to heaven. To him.

When walking inside the candy store, the first thing she hears is commotion. A deep voice, matched with a much sultrier tone, two people arguing that clearly receive the name of Jonoh and Miyoung, respectively. Miyoung is standing on a ladder, putting up the decorations for the anniversary of the store, and Jonoh is doing his best to annoy her by shaking the surface in which she is standing on.

“Jonoh, stop!”

“I’m not doing anything, it’s the wind!”

“I could die. I said stop!”

“Ah, come on. You’re not going to die!”

This is the moment in which she realizes that none of them could be the thoughtful candy boy that has partaken a piece of her heart with sweetened words to match the tasteful candies. Instead, with her hands holding the bag of Hershey kisses, she moves further inside her workplace, looking for that hair of black hair that now contrasts the yellow of his matching jersey. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find him, but the place is a little bit more packed now that the summer season is over.

Some memories in life are meant to heal. They take the heart, bend it to its will until the holes opened in it by the punches of bad decisions are sewn together. He is one of those memories; of late-night talks when he is baking, of staying a little bit longer to help her clean, of getting on a bus that won’t even take him home just to be around her. Comfort earned after a misunderstanding. She thinks that she might have been dumb enough to absentmindedly create an enigma out of Taeyong, when everything had been presented to her. The handwriting, the smiley face, the bags, the candies, the blue M&M’s and coffee candies that started it all—

When she finds him, Taeyong is surrounded by children—half his height, if not lower, all asking him a million questions and while he could have been easily overwhelmed by the amount of orders and attentions, he takes it like an easy task. His hands look for the sweets that they prefer, placing them inside the yellow bags that represents the store, with that same red handwriting on top of it as their icon. His gloved fingers skillfully take the desired candy, weights it, and adds a bit more just because he can.

Because his soul is like that.

“Yong, Yong!” One of the children, who can’t seem to pronounce his name well, lifts his hand to reach out for his forearm. This has Taeyong looking down, getting ready to close the yellow bag and put it inside the basket that he should carry around to have the parents pay for what the children want, or perhaps the representative in charge—like a teacher or a babysitter. Instead, the child continues speaking. “I only like the green gummy bears!”

This alone is enough to have Taeyong looking inside the bag, inspecting the gummy bears that are, certainly, not only green. He doesn’t sigh, doesn’t frown, simply puts the contents back inside its space on their display shelves before taking out the green gummy bears one by one. “I see, I must be too old to look at colors properly.”

“Taeyong,” Another one speaks to him, and the man hums as he continues plucking away the necessary green gummy bears. “What is your favorite kind of sweets?”

He thinks for a moment, lips puckered up while he rummages through the gummy bears. “Does ice cream count?”

“No,” The little girl says. “Ice cream is ice cream!”

“But ice cream is sweet.” Her chest swells at the small confused once-over that he gives to the little girl. “I like baked stuff, mostly. I don’t know if that counts.”

This is her cue to get closer to the group of children surrounding Taeyong, and the majority of them don’t pay attention to her. Once in front of Taeyong, his breath gets caught in his throat, released in a little sigh when a smile overtakes his features. “Let me help you find the green ones, and you can start serving what the other children want.” Her hands are already reaching for a pair of gloves, putting them on and searching for the shiny, chewy green treats.

“Thank you.” And his hand ghosts on top of her back, moving over to the spot next to her to take the chocolate order of one of the children, which keep rambling to him.

That touch billows her heart, leaves a tingle on her skin that makes her feel like something blooms inside of her. As if violins start playing, a piano is in the background, an orchestra making a sonata out of the feelings he brings to her. If she ever dared tell Taeyong about her assumptions of him being the one that gives her candy as a present, would he be taken aback? Would that push him away from her, once again living in fear of what her cold personality could cause to his heart? The questions roaming through her head have her looking at him again, watching how his lips wrap on the words cutely, trying to make his voice a bit higher and softer for the little clients that seem to be glued to his legs.

He is now stuck to her heart, in a way that can only grow, smooth on its movements. Mellow, he is, in the way he has hypnotized her and made her feel that there are matters to discover in this world. That someone saw the sweetness in her that even she couldn’t recognize, made her feel listened and cared for, and that person is Lee Taeyong.

She wishes she could have the strength to try and ask him if he’s the one behind the gifts, and even when her mind is telling her that it is obvious, she doesn’t want to ruin that percentage of uncertainty and lose something that has been growing, healing, easing them into a sense of normalcy. This is something beautiful, and she doesn’t think she has ever had that…no point in losing it now, she guesses.  

###

“You’re going to get diabetes if you keep eating sweets that often.”

“I am not!”

That whine she recognizes perfectly well. It comes with a pout the majority of the time, and with a shy beam at the end. Seated by the entrance of the candy store, not caring that the coldness of the flooring is seeping through his jeans, is Taeyong playing a videogame. One of those that he always talks about—that apparently relaxes him and helps him concentrate on something during his free time, but the slightest bit of an obsession has grown within him. His eyebrows are almost knitted together, fingers moving with precision on the device in between his hands.

By his side, an opened bag of sweets is snatched away by her. She takes a seat beside him, watching the screen of his Nintendo for a while before his fingers absentmindedly reach for the bag of candy. Gone, it is, bringing a surprised gasp from him when he decides to (finally) look at her.

“Let me have my candy!” But there is not a threat in his tone, not in the way that they are far too close to each other, Taeyong’s hair falling over his forehead and covering those orbs that are pulling her in. Instead, she chuckles, placing a container filled with salad on his lap for him to take.

“I made us both salads.” She doesn’t give much of an explanation, for lunchtime with Taeyong has become an often occurrence. Sometimes, he brings her something—from well prepared dishes to something as simple as sliced vegetables and fruits, but this time around, she decided to be the one on the giving end of the spectrum. Taeyong stares at the plastic container, leaving his videogame aside to snatch the lid away and look at the contents inside, a little plastic fork waiting for him to be used.

His hand expands on top of his heart, for he may have felt exactly what she feels whenever he gives her candy behind those smiley faces that are, now, absolutely his. She still hasn’t said anything, relishes in the way he seems to be comfortable with his secret hidden. “You did not,” He whispers at first, his eyes scanning the meal before smiling brightly. Those bags under his eyes appear again. “Oh my God, you shouldn’t have bothered.”

But she should have, because for months to no end Taeyong has done one of two things—for, she hasn’t figured them out yet. He either steals candy from the store, or he buys some for her each time he can. “I totally had to. I’m fearing the day your teeth rot and fall, just eat the salad.” She tells him, voice softened to speak in between the two, extending her legs to ease the muscles from the strain of sitting down in such a hard floor.

“Ah, I’m not that much of a candy eater. You just always catch me at the worst time.” But he’s lying, and the way he takes a bite of the salad before he puts the container down is taking up more of her attention than his excuses are. “Does it hurt to sit like this?”

“No, I’m okay—” Moving at his will, Taeyong takes off his jersey in a swift motion, instructing her to stand up with the movement of his hands.

“Come on, stand up and sit on this.”

“Taeyong, you give me your jersey more than you wear it. It’s okay—”

Following after his instructions after Taeyong puckers up his lips, a little bit in distaste, also because he is this close to complaining, the fabric of his jersey works as some cushion for the back of her thighs and her butt. He takes his seat beside her again, finding his home with his back pressed against the wall before plopping a little bit more of the salad past his lips. “You have to listen more,” He starts. “I’m only protecting you.”

“Oh yes, because sitting on a floor is going to do anything bad to me.” She retorts, watching as Taeyong eats, nodding soon after.

“You could get back problems!”

“Taeyong, I am certain I would not get back problems from just sitting on the floor.”

“…Google it.”

“I won’t google it!”

Their conversation is cut short when the doors of the store open with a harsh bang, clearly someone who does not care about the strength of their actions. The glassed door ends up knocking Taeyong’s leg, a loud wince coming from the man when he uses his free hand to clutch at his calf. The culprit of his pain appears before them, peeking his head inside to show a set of dimples, the thinnest sheen of sweat, and a set of toned, uncovered arms that she recognizes well.

Months ago, she had been the one to get Yoonoh’s number for Miyoung—who, in less than a week, was already going out on a date with him. While nothing had become serious, more often than not they are together, and she may have seen a little scene once, caused by the closeness between Miyoung and Jonoh. Still, neither Taeyong nor herself ever got too involved.

Yoonoh waves at her, calling her name in a rushed tone when he asks: “Is Miyoung here?”

“She went out for her lunchbreak.”

“Alone?”

She nods, even when she knows that Miyoung always eats with Jonoh, but the least she wants is to cause more issues with the one man that Miyoung had taken long to get. “I think so,” One spared glance at Taeyong shows a bit of a scowl on his face, and he is noticeably annoyed but not letting the matter slip his lips. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

The sport store worker slips inside until half his body is inside the store while he speaks. “Actually, yes.” He starts, running his hands through his damp hair, perhaps from one of those work-out routine days they have in their store. Some kind of special, Miyoung has once called it. “I’m going to be hosting a party next Friday, at my place. One of my friends is coming back after travelling around the world and I decided to invite Miyoung, but since she isn’t here…”

“Oh, I’ll tell her.” She shrugs her shoulders, her hand pushing against Taeyong calf to soothe the skin, and she swears she feels him tensing under her touch. “Party. Your house. Next Friday.”

“Exactly.” Yoonoh nods before quirking an eyebrow at the two of them. “You two wanna go?”

Letting go of Taeyong, she looks at him for some kind of answer. His smile expands, as if the pain is suddenly replaced by something else. “Sure, sounds like fun!”

“Good.” Yoonoh doesn’t wait for an answer from her before opening the door wider. “I’ll get going then. Tell Miyoung to call me.”

“Will do.” The excitement on Taeyong’s face plays at her heartstrings, because she knows she is not the most interesting of party-goers. Her lack of emotion towards life had made her want to hide away rather than meet up with others, but the shining light that is Taeyong, in that bright color of yellow that represents him, seems to have other ideas. “I’m not going, though.”

Taeyong stops chewing on his salad when she says those words, shaking his head at her antics. “No, no. You have to go with me.”

“I don’t think I can,” This brings her to stand up, letting the jersey rest on the floor with the memory of the comfort that once existed…but her insecurity still haunts her. Just like Taeyong at the beginning of their meetings, she was scared. Terrified, even, of feeling too much and then going back to not feeling anything at all. She does care for him, to the point she can’t help but feel that she’ll end up getting her heart broken. Taeyong stares at her with surprise, widened eyes and parted lips. “Sorry, Taeyong. I don’t know if I’m comfortable with going and ruining that party. You know how boring I can get.”

He doesn’t relent, however. “I have said it a thousand times, you’re not boring—”

“That’s what you think, though.” She replies softly, not missing a beat to ruffle his hair before straightening her back again. “I’m going to get back to work. I’ll talk to you later.”

When she turns around, nonetheless, she feels as though she could have cried. She doesn’t, obviously, she could never do such thing in front of people—but this little voice inside her head that tells her to stop enjoying the good things in life is making her sick. it has paralyzed her for years, and it does it again. Never has she concentrated on the sun, but on the shadows instead. Never has she truly breathed without thinking it’s one less particle of oxygen in the air. Never has she seen the hours moving without thinking it’s the death of another day.

Never has she had anyone’s eyes trailing after her when she leaves, wishing she could stay, but she doesn’t even think she can have Taeyong on the long run. Someone like him would only perish under the weight of her heart.

###

This is the day of fear, just like when Taeyong asks her how she is doing and the only thing she can do is jump at the sound of his voice.

Maybe, it comes from the fact that the expanse of Taeyong’s chest can be felt by the skin of her back, or because his arm is sprawled to her side as she prepares yet another chocolate bouquet. Though, her best guess would be that the jumpiness of her state comes from the fact that avoiding Taeyong for the past few days has been her mission. After all, talking about the complexity of her thoughts to him—those that tell her that she is not good enough—is not something that she plans on doing soon. Much less in the middle of her workplace.

Thursday afternoon and Jonoh is somewhere talking to clients, meanwhile Miyoung is doing the same. Taeyong seems to be the only one that is not occupied, instead letting his breaths ghost down her shoulder, shivers rising from her spine to her neck to her arms, his eyes feel as though they are scanning her features when she is wrapping the chocolate bars together, excellence in her movements.

“A chocolate bouquet.” She answers slowly, like the words are coming to her brain in spurts instead of a complete sentence. Taeyong hums at that, pulling away from her the slightest to rest his elbows on the counter, legs extending behind him for leverage while his hands hold his head upright. “Why are you asking?”

“No reason. Just wanted to talk to you.” Taeyong says, playing with the edge of the plastic paper that wraps around the chocolate bars, his fingertips catching her attention for a moment, making her wonder how they would feel if they would slide in between hers, if they spread on top of her waist, if they trailed from her thighs to her knees, thumb caressing the soft skin. “You’ve been avoiding me.” He tells her, voice tiny, and she can’t help but close her eyes tightly.

Her ministrations stop for a second, just before she goes back on track. “I’m sorry. I’ve been having a bad week, that’s all.”

“I know where this comes from.” He points in between them, letting out a sigh when he stops looking at her and instead, stares off into another places of the candy store. Taeyong is more intuitive that one would believe. “And I am also here to tell you that I am not going to that party if you’re not. I feel that as your friend I can only support you, and I wanted to go since I thought you would be going so—”

“Taeyong,” She calls out his name, earning a hum from him when the real chocolates—his eyes—look at her face to guarantee his utmost presence, his habit of listening too closely. “You don’t need to stop yourself from going anywhere just because I am not going. I’m not stopping you.”

Unlike what leaves her lips, however, Taeyong shows his stubborn face—that one that is only seen when he is nagging. “But…it’s not fun if you’re not there.”

This is the magic of him, the reason as to why she thinks she has a sugar high or an overdose…and it doesn’t come from the candy that he gives her, but from the sweet tone of his voice. That sticky nature of his. She shudders a breath in, lets her hands splay on top of the counter when she tries to internalize what he just said. Fun, something that she hasn’t had in a while, a word that she would never use to conceptualize herself, but Taeyong compares it to her. He trusts that in the depth of her cold demeanor, there must be something more.

No one has done that. Not in the past. Not in the present. No one has stopped and stared at her, thought that the world was in her tiniest of smiles, and shared a laugh along. No one but Taeyong. She may be afraid, fuck—terrified, but it’s the good kind. The kind that tells her to try it out before she dismisses it, that she’ll regret not taking the chance of going out with Taeyong, even as friends, to a damned party that could surely be fun with him by her side.

Which is why a smile grazes her features, a bit shaky, a bit uncertain, but this is part of the world. Part of becoming brave. “You promise to stay by my side the entire night if I go with you?”

Taeyong perks up at that, blinking rapidly before nodding. “Why would I not? I’ll stay with you.”

So, for the first time in a while, she’s tired of the tranquil state of not caring—she wants to feel. Raw emotions of happiness or pain, wants to live even if it hurts her sometimes, even if she has to let go of some insecurities to earn some new ones. When Taeyong is by her side, all of these things feel as though they are small, intricate parts of her that have disappeared with time but beg to come out again to start a better reality. One in which she can look at the world without feeling like time has become the same, hours turning into days, days into months, months into years.

“Then, I’m going.” She replies, relishing in the way Taeyong’s smile grows exponentially, moving around her until he is placing a quickened, perhaps shy, kiss on top of her cheek. So brief that it is almost as if it didn’t happen, and a soft chuckle growns on her chest, escapes her nose on its way.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! We’re going to have such a great time.”

And for some reason, she believes him.

###

Pink is the drink on his hand—a cocktail, mixing fruits that in their blended state cannot be smelled by her. On his lips, though, sugar takes part of the rosiness of his lips, puckered up while he speaks, reminiscent of something that happened to him in high school, and while the story is involving on its own, the sound effects that he has to dramatize the entirety of the ordeal is what has her smiling. Tipsy, he may be, if the way he plays with the collar of his black t-shirt is anything to go by, and in his own heat, he had given her the denim jacket that he had paired up with his original outfit.

The party is way bigger than she would have expected once she entered with Miyoung and Taeyong by her side. The house is, apparently and these are Miyoung’s words, shared by a variety of men on their twenties and it shows. The smell of smoke is in the air, there is some table that she doesn’t even dare get close to doing body shots, and some people are dancing to their might. When she had gotten there, people were halfway through getting tipsy, now she fears getting out of the kitchen in hopes of not coming across someone vomiting or worse, someone who is passed out on the floor.

At least, Taeyong is having fun…and with her, that is. His messy black hair is hidden under a beanie in the same color, and he fixes it the more he speaks, back leaned against the counter, taking his dulcet time on tasting the concoction in his glass. And she could have tried some, for the beautiful peachy color does seem inviting…but she is sure that Miyoung will, also, get wasted and she has to be the responsible one and take everyone home safely.

Someone enters the kitchen with commotion, screaming at the top of their lungs about something she can’t quite comprehend. It includes shots, and some other people that are in the kitchen rushing out of there as soon as possible. A secure arm wraps around her waist, bringing her closer to Taeyong’s taut abdomen to keep her away from the masses of people and when she decides to look back at the man holding her, she finds Taeyong staring away. What such luck it is that she never gets to look him in the eye and show the awe within her, that one that begs to explore him as a lover. There is nothing she wants more than to be surprised by him.

“Be careful,” Taeyong says, bottom lip jutting out and a smile shows through her features, letting her eyes inspect his face. The man in question finally turns to look at her, his arm still wrapped around her waist, legs parted to the point it almost feels like he is caging her in place. “Don’t want to miss you here.”

His fingers slowly caress over the fabric of her long-sleeved white shirt, they reach her arm and grip there as if to feel her, every bit of her. “I won’t leave your side.”

Taeyong brings his cocktail up to his lips just when he blushes at her words, and she loves that little bit of reaction she can get out of him from her simplistic words. “Keep that promise.” He tells, making her chuckle, only to be shortened when on his tipsy state Taeyong rests his cheek against the side of her face, pushing her closer to him when he speaks, albeit a bit slurred. “I…am so happy to be here with you.”

Her heart is not racing. It’s hammering. It’s about to go into cardiac arrest from the closeness in between the two, and full of romanticism, she lets herself fall into his touch. “Me, too.”

“I must sound so nerdy and silly.” Taeyong breathes out, the coldness of his lips seeping with every word he says, kissing her skin without touching her.

“You don’t.” She admits. “I like it.”

Her coworker, the one candy boy that has taken over her head for the past few months, lets his lips part before he chuckles at himself. Hard, like his mind is eased into a state in which a flutter is permanently inside his chest. “It’s just…when I think of you, I don’t know how to voice things out.” Taeyong does not lie when he is drunk, perhaps, but just when she is about to part her lips and tell some type of retaliation—perhaps a confession in a similar form, she hears her name being called, momentarily pulling away from Taeyong who doesn’t completely let go of her arm.

Miyoung is standing by the door, her hair pushed away from her face by a ponytail, wearing the prettiest cream dress that hugs her body just right and by the way her lipstick has smudged on the cup on her hand, there is definitely alcohol in her body. “Hello, you two! Want you join me on a game?”

“Not really.” She states, looking over at Taeyong who shrugs his shoulders.

“I’ll stay with her, if you don’t mind.”

“Guys, please. They’re going to do this kiss game and I really want to join, but I don’t want to go there alone.” Miyoung gets closer, tugging at her sleeve and pulling her away from Taeyong to gain her trust. The truth is—Miyoung trusts the world, trusts the people around her and the little games that she plays, believes in youth more than she believes in the consequences of certain acts, so leaving her alone would be irresponsible. Someone like Miyoung should be protected at all costs, any friend should, really.

“Right, it would be mean to leave you on your own.” She says, soon after feeling Miyoung interlock their fingers together to get out of the kitchen. Barely grasping Taeyong’s arm, she keeps the man close to her, for no one gets left behind as long as she is there.

The house is lit in different kind of lights, all dim but in various colors—from greens to blues, to simple whites. People were kissing on couches, dancing the night away, sharing whatever it is that they find from one person to the other, but her mind is taken away from that when she feels someone else hold her hand. Taeyong, having understood the situation in his tipsy mind, grabs onto the skin of her hand with precision, afraid of having her away, and his body caging her with the presence of him feels comforting behind her. Almost as if there is no way anything could go wrong as long as he is there.

Strong, he may not be—at least, not physically, but there is this sense of protection that she feels in the depths of her soul. It eases the ache of her heart and gives it a kind of beat that she has never felt. To trust him did not come easily, but he has earned it. This is what she thinks of when Miyoung sits on the floor, on a part of the circle of people who are cheering with cups on their hands, and Taeyong immediately takes the seat beside her, not forgetting to tell her to put his jacket underneath her for her to be more comfortable.

She wishes she could reach for him, that this fear she has deep within her would not be eating her alive—because for the longest while, feeling was forbidden for her. Now older, perhaps a bit wiser, it seems odd to reconnect with that part of herself that she thought was dead.

One of the people around the circle explains the game. Truth or dare, something that she leaves herself out of when she feels Taeyong’s hand still interlocked with hers, far too preoccupied in the way he stares ahead, listens to others, but doesn’t forget to let his fingertips trail in between hers, rubbing soothingly, reassuring her that there is nothing to worry about. Not when he’s there. Not when he plans to stay.

The feeling is right and it shows in his eyes, when they find themselves commenting on the stupid dares and laughing between each other. Taeyong has completed something, and she feels like it should be the same for him, igniting her mind with images that she could have never imagined herself making out.

Instead, this feeling of tranquility is cut short when someone places a cup on Taeyong’s hand, wrapped softly around it when one of the partygoers speak. “I dare you to either drink this or kiss your girl.”

“Ah, I’m not playing—” The idea of kissing Taeyong has her eyes widening, because she is certain of what she feels, but there is no way of knowing what he feels. This is the part of love that is so complicated, or of any kind of union, because everyone’s mind is a universe and there is no way of knowing what can’t ever be heard.

However, the people around them don’t seem to care, someone beside Miyoung speaking louder. “What about passing a honey candy by a kiss?”

He can only be shameful, the tips of his ears covered by his beanie but perhaps reddened like his face. Taeyong turns to look at her, quirking an eyebrow in question, his eyes showing that panic that sometimes overtake him. There is an unopened bag of honey-based candies placed in between them suddenly, and she thinks of the chance she has in her hands. She has never been the type to act in the ‘ride or die’ way, but the touch of curiousness has overtaken her, much more when Taeyong chuckles. “I’m not sure.”

“We could try—” She whispers, only audible for him.

His smile falls, eyes inspecting her features before he looks away. There it is, that nervousness that he masked as fear. “Are you sure?” Soon after, he’s looking at her, chocolate kisses irises staring at her soul when she opens the bag with shaking fingertips, taking one of the unopened envelopes in between her fingers.

“If you want to.” She says, jutting her chin towards the drink. “I don’t want you drinking any more. You’re already kind of tipsy.”

“Quickly, are you taking the dare or not?!” Someone says, but she can only try to read what his eyes are saying. Speechless, they seem to be.

Just when he puts the hard, yet thin, candy in between his lips, people start cheering, a voice that she recognizes as Miyoung’s saying: “Oh fuck, they’re actually going to do it.”

And this sense of confidence she has never had. Not when Taeyong looks down at her lips, his own wrapping around the candy in a delicate touch. His hand splays on the back of her neck, playing with the little hairs at her nape, and nearing her ever so delicately. Her fingers try to find a spot in which to find leverage, instead resting them on each side of his waist.

This is the man that has given her candy for the past few months, the same one that has waited patiently for her…and she has waited for him, too, lied her way through her head to believe that he was not the one gifting her such things. With her eyes closed softly, she lets out a shuddering breath, one that fans over his cheeks when she confesses:

“I know you’ve been giving me candy as gifts for the past few months,” She tells him, only opening her eyes when Taeyong takes a sharp intake of breath. His eyes have lost that hazy glow, instead inspecting her every feature. “I’ve known it for a long time.”

And she wants to say more—desires to say that she loves every card and stores it as reminiscent moments of being cared for, but the feeling is too strong and Taeyong is just the slightest bit tipsy, giving him a push that has his lips tantalizingly touching her own. For a moment, the touch is brief, but to pass the candy along and taste the honeyed layers of its shape he parts his lips. Delicacy is read in his every action; in the way his fingers relax and that breath that he had held is released against her skin. This feels like it is correct, like the sweetness on her tongue when his caresses against her own does not come from the honey on the candy but from him.

His breaths are slow, felt in the way she holds his snug waist with tenderness. The candy starts to dissipate in her mouth, too thin to last too long, but even then Taeyong decides to be greedy—takes more of her in the way they connect, lips to lips, soon after zoning the people around them when he takes her by the cheeks. Her head is tilted to the side slightly when he gives one last caress of his lips, pulling away the slightest before the sound of his giggle is heard through the air.

“You knew.” He says, and she can’t even open her eyes as she romanticizes this moment. Her fingers pull at his beanie, letting it rest lower on his reddened ears, nodding her head at his words.

“I knew.” And someone is speaking, the concentration going away from them and the cup that had been placed in between Taeyong’s fingers is letting its droplets of alcohol fall to the flooring. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“It’s okay.” Taeyong finishes, locking the gates of heaven by looking away once again. His fingers reach for hers once again, bringing the back of her hand up to her lips before laughing against the skin, his lips vibrating at the action. “But let’s talk about it when I’m not about to die from a heart attack, okay?”

But she doesn’t know how to conceptualize it, how to shed the layers of her that she needs him to discover. It is more difficult than simply knowing his secret, and the reality of it all is barely acknowledge after a kiss that united heart with soul and turned it into one. For one night, she believes in fairytales. For one night, no taste could replace the one that is his.

###

She breathes out words that she had never found a meaning for. Hope is one of the, in the way her fingers hook around a few pebbles, shadowed by the apartment complex that is right in front of her—Taeyong’s address. Nervousness eats at her, surely, keeps her tranced while she moves the rocks in between her fingers, lifts them up, lets them fall to her palm and repeats, not missing the way her heart skips since today is Monday. The first Monday after that kiss shared on Friday, when she practically had to watch Taeyong down two more cocktails before dragging him back home on the bus, hearing his rants that matched the nonsense inside his drunken brain.

Time is such a precious thing, one that she had wasted for many years. She thought that time passing meant nothing, since it’s only a concept that has never been proven by science—no one knows what the end is, or when it will be, neither do they know beginnings. The differences between past, present and future blurred for her, but if she’s certain of something is that her future desires to be conformed of Taeyong, to have him smile at her, kiss her lips at his will, give her more than candy but that heart of his that has never lost its essence.

A part of her wonders if the game, the gazes and the dare had put him in a position in which, truthfully speaking, he could only kiss her. He could have backed away, separated from her to simply forget about her existence, but he didn’t. Left her speechless, he did, to the point she shivers even when her jersey is covering her shoulders and she has been standing outside his apartment for more than twenty minutes by now, thinking of throwing rocks to his window to get his attention.

…But that’s impossible, now that she thinks about it. Taeyong lifts in one of the highest roofs.

Sighing is what she does, kicking the flooring with numb steps when she realizes that this is more difficult than she had anticipated. Taeyong may have given her all those gifts, but what do they even mean? He could have kissed her, said plenty of beautiful words…but there is always this voice inside of her that wonders about the ‘what if’s’ of their situations. Tired of doubting, she hopes that one step forward is enough of an initiation for her to get inside the building, hence look for Taeyong on the way—

“What are you doing?” Someone asks her and the voice has her letting the rocks fall on her feet, hands coming up to her ears to cover them, even when the one was soft. Once she looks at the source of such voice, she watches Taeyong with one hand wrapped around his backpack, the other coming forward to hold her shoulder, eyes widened. “Oh, damn, you okay?”

“Taeyong, don’t creep up on me!” Her voice lifts slightly, letting go of her ears to speak to him properly. For a moment, Taeyong remains expressionless—that is until happiness takes over him and he nudges her side.

“Someone’s jumpy today, I see. Any reason?” He asks, a teasing tone matching the glint of his eyes and dare she say that she actually confesses something that day.

Life may excuse her today for irrationality, because she really likes Taeyong. As in, a lot. “You.”

“Clearly—”

“No, Taeyong, I mean that I’m jumpy because I wanted to talk about the kiss.” His eyes don’t divert away from her, as if he has passed the days of nervousness and exchanged them for seriousness. Waiting, he does, and for the first time in such a while she needs to speak a lot. Hooking her fingers around a strand of hair that had fallen on her forehead, she sighs. “First, I don’t need you giving me more candy. It was cute while it lasted, but I’m not in for candy theft—”

“I wasn’t stealing,” Taeyong says, and that is enough to have her world turning upside down in the best of ways. “I bought all those candies for you.”

With a soft, barely there, smack to his shoulder, she retorts. “Taeyong, you must have spent a lot of money.”

“I didn’t.” He continues, letting go of his backpack to keep it resting on his shoulders. “It’s candy, not a diamond ring.”

With that, something lifts up from her shoulders and her mind gets filled with the idea of having him. Past a letter or a smiley face, only to lay her reality in front of him, hoping for him to take it. “Also…” Her voice trails, fingertips playing with one another. “I like you, okay? That kiss…uh…it meant something to me, and I would like to know if you like me.”

His laugh is so joyful that his nose scrunches up, his hand expanding until his thumb is resting on one of her cheeks and the rest of his palm is on the other. Those bags that she has always adored rest under his eyes, lips only closing when he leans forward to rest a fleeting kiss to her lips. “I wouldn’t have given you all those notes if I didn’t like you, silly.”

Her arms wrap around him, perhaps stealing a breath away from him, but now with him in her arms, she feels a sense of serenity. His heartbeat is soft against her eardrums, eyes closing in the delight of having him so close—of having him in a pre-sense of love. Taeyong has stuck to her heart, and she doesn’t think she will ever get him out of her system.

Not when, in perspective, he’s the sweet she likes the most.

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