#new fic idea that will take me eight months to write lol leave me ALONE

[crybaby-bkg]

potential angst fic where the world just….collapses in on itself right before your very eyes. the sky is deep red in color, clouds gone, night doesn’t fall behind the horizon of your trees anymore. land is splitting into millions of pieces, people are falling into the ocean by the thousands. there’s chaos everywhere, and you’re sure that this is the official end of the world.

only thing is—you can’t die yet. not because you haven’t fulfilled your life’s destiny or whatever bullshit, no. you refuse to die a virgin. but luckily, so does your childhood best friend Bakugou.

the earth is still shifting and rocking when you both agree to it, sure that by tomorrow the house shattering storms will have moved to your region, that you’ll be dead by sunrise. so you spend the entire night encased in his arms, tangled in his bed sheets. you wish you had more time to try more positions, but you tick off most on your bucket list.

he’s surprisingly shy the whole time, a little huffy when he tries to stick it in and misses your hole because he’s so nervous, and also, there’s another earthquake happening at this very moment. he kisses you gentle, and breaths hotly against your neck whenever you squeeze down on him. it’s not enough time in the remainder of the world to make fun of him for being a one pump chump, and you can only hook your leg around his waist to make him keep going so you can experience your first orgasm with another person.

and the night is heavenly, blissful, full of sweet moans and tender touches. it all goes well, and you expect to wake up in some afterlife by the time ‘night’ is over.

….only thing is; you wake up the next day. in bed. beside Bakugou who looks at you just as confusedly.

“I thought we were supposed to be dead by now?” He asks you, turning on your tv that hasn’t worked since the birds fell out of the sky. but miraculously—the tv works. and it’s broadcasting extremely important news, a headline that makes you swallow.

apocalypse seemingly over: or are we being fooled by an angry god?

“What the fuck are we gonna do now?” You can hear Bakugou mutter, but you’re still stuck on the paler sky that’s starting to look more blue and the one bird on the branch outside your window and the people who’ve stopped wielding axes and started picking up shattered pieces of their homes. but you’re still even more so stuck on the fact that you just fucked your childhood best friend in his too big and expensive bed and lost your virginity for nothing. what the fuck are you gonna do now?

#new fic idea that will take me eight months to write lol leave me ALONE #but I love n cherish this idea sm #so much chaos for days #everyone’s convinced they’re gonna die #and then boom #nothing lmfao #imagine the awkwardness that ensues after #do you start a relationship with him? do you pretend it never happened? become fwb’s??? #so many options and so many feelings surface #okay I’m done rambling lol #I keep getting these bouts of nausea and I hate it #someone put me down pls I just wanna feel NORMAL #also I started my mythology course today and I actually really like it #idk why I’m surprised Ive always love mythology lol #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #bakugou treats! 🍬

[writingwithcolor]

B’nei mitzvah in spaceship without Jewish community | Jewish character celebrating Christmas

Hi! Thank you so much for running this blog. I appreciate how much time and effort all the mods have put into it. I finished reading through the whole Jewish tag a few days ago, and I’ve learned so much! I’m writing a Voltron fic (I *know* lol) and decided to make one of the protagonists a white nonbinary Ashkenazi Reform Jewish girl. Her astronaut brother mysteriously disappears in space and is presumed dead, so she runs away from home a couple of months before her b'nei mitzvah to find him. Now, she’s in a group of rebels in space fighting against an Empire. I have two concerns:

1. Everyone on the ship misses home, so part of the way they cope is through getting in touch with their cultures. They’re gonna celebrate (a mostly non-Americanized) Christmas because it matters a lot to some of the characters for non-religious reasons. To what extent can my Jewish character participate in the celebration without it being weird? I want her to enjoy herself more because she’s with her friends than because Jesus etc. They’ll also celebrate Chanukah, if that helps. I know Chanukah isn’t a major holiday, so I also want to have her celebrate a more significant one like Rosh Hashanah and/or Purim with them. Is it okay for gentiles to participate in those holiday celebrations, or should she do that alone?

2. Throughout most of the story, she’ll struggle with choosing whether to prioritize fighting the Empire or finding her brother and bringing him home. When she eventually does find her brother (who also turns out to be a rebel), he lets her decide whether they stay or go home. I thought it would be nice if she decided to stay and keep fighting for the greater good after she finally has her b'nei mitzvah. Her friends and other experiences are also a big part of why she decides to stay, but the b'nei mitzvah would be what gives her the final push she needs to decide. I don’t know if it would be okay for me to write the ceremony itself or if she can even have one if only two of the eight people on the ship are Jewish. I read that not everyone has a b'nei mitzvah and that it’s not required, but I feel like it’d be a big deal to her character. Should I keep the b'nei mitzvah idea, or am I heading towards appropriative territory here?

I want to make her Jewishness a big part of her character’s growth, and I really want to make sure I do it respectfully and accurately. I plan on finding a sensitivity reader when I’ve made more progress with actually writing everything out. Thank you for any insight you might offer!

It feels off to me to join a community symbolically when you’re far away FROM the community. Why not just have had her already have done the ceremony before she has all these adventures? That way it could just be a straightforward story about a Jewish teen having exciting heroic adventures in space, rather than a story about what happens when you have to miss aspects of Jewish life because you’re in space. It would also make the “….well, I guess I’m around for Christmas” bit less weighted because then that would be the only one of those instead of having two of those.

–Shira 

I’ll cover some other territory here. For those who don’t know, b'nei mitzvah is something you just automatically become at the correct age, the ceremony is simply to celebrate that with the community. Not all people have the ceremony, but if you are Jewish, and of age (for religious purposes), your status changes with or without it. Personally, I’m comfortable with showing a Jewish character finding a way to have a Jewish celebration when the circumstances are less than ideal, for me the other aspects of the story are more troubling. 

On the subject of having a Jewish character celebrate Christmas with their friends… look I don’t like this trope. There are many Jewish people, who are completely secular, who don’t celebrate Christmas, because it is explicitly a Christian holiday, and secular Jewish people are still Jewish. Some Jewish people (secular or otherwise) do choose to celebrate other holidays, and I am very comfortable with those folks telling their own stories. What I’m not happy with is the push from outside of the community for every Jewish character to slide into assimilation. 

Some Jewish people will go to Christmas parties and not eat the food, because they keep kosher, or won’t stay for a tree-lighting, because that feels like it goes too far, or will give presents but not receive them. There are a huge number of ways we might handle Christmas, and I appreciate that you plan to show holidays other than just Chanukah (and yes, it’s fine for non-Jewish characters to join her in her holidays, if she invites them), but I always question why a non-Jewish writer is so keen to show Jewish characters celebrating Christmas. The most generous version of me wants to assume that you get so much out of Christmas that you want to share it, but the part of me that knows about the pressures to assimilate, and the history of increased antisemitic violence around Christmas thinks… just leave this kid alone. She missed her celebration, she’s far from her community, and now she has to go put on a Happy Assimilated Smile for the culturally Christian folks around her. From a nonbinary Jewish perspective, it’s a little unusual for your nonbinary character to use she/her pronouns, and use b'nei mitzvah as a gender neutral alternative to the gendered bat mitzvah. In secular life, at least in the US, it’s not uncommon for people to use multiple pronouns, but I haven’t met, or even heard of, a single person using gendered pronouns secularly, and using new neutral alternatives religiously. It absolutely could happen but, because it is so unusual, to me it reads as either invalidating the character’s gender, or tokenizing her in the religious sphere. 

–Dierdra 

Shira, I think that’s a really good idea to make the character post-b'nei mitzvah. That way you just have a Jewish character having adventures rather than her culture being The Conflict. (And also, a pre-b'nei mitzvah seems a bit young for this storyline? Can she really consent to fighting alongside the rebels? Do they habitually take unaccompanied children on their ship? To me a teenager would make more sense, but hey it’s not my story!)

Dierdra, your answer regarding the Christmas aspect was awesome and really thorough. Thanks for your thoughts on the pronouns as well, it also jarred with me but I was waiting to hear your opinion as you have lived experience. My worry is if you use gender neutral terms for one but not the other, you risk falling into to the stereotype that only marginalised religious folks have to change our language etc to be inclusive to LGBTQ+ people, but everyone else is fine. 

I wanted to come back to the point about Rosh Hashana. First of all, thank you for acknowledging that we have holidays that are more important than Chanukah! Sooo many OP’s don’t know that. In terms of how she would celebrate it, I agree it’s fine to invite non-Jewish people along. However, given how community-based Jewish life is, making her keep Yom Tov on her own feels a bit like a torture story, especially when others have people to celebrate Christmas with. I wonder if you’ve thought about giving her a Jewish friend on the ship? Especially if you want her Jewishness to be part of her growth as you mentioned, an older Jewish friend and mentor could be a huge help :)

–Shoshi

As you can see, we have a wide range of possibilities for “what happens when you ask a Jewish person about celebrating Christmas.” I didn’t mind hanging around it as an outsider myself until a certain subset of Christians started being mean-spirited about it in the news plus some personal trauma that time of year, as long as everyone involved was clear that I was just participating from the outside and this didn’t somehow change me. (If I may make an analogy: compare it to going to a baby shower when you want to support your friend or family member but also really don’t want kids of your own. You’re going to have a whole different experience if your decision is respected vs. if all the other guests treat you like you being there means you’ll change your mind about not wanting kids.)

That being said, it’s still all over the map. Some people IRL are okay even going to mass with their partner’s Catholic family (without participating in communion obvs.) Some would never, ever do that and are sitting here with shocked faces that I even typed that. But what becomes important is the way it’s written. Sitting around listening to the Christmas story is probably a bad fit for your fanfic, but helping other people bake Christmas cookies or put ornaments on a tree could work. The ornament thing could remind her of decorating a sukkah, and she could point that out to the others. 

I guess I’m saying is 

keep her participation secular, and 

keep her participation from leaning into the idea that we’re unhappy with our customs and would prefer to do it their way. 

I have literally never in my life felt jealous of the kids who “got to do Santa” (for example) and while I’m sure some kids were and they’re valid too, I think it’s important to show that it’s not a universal phenomenon.

–Shira

#jewish #non binary #B’nei mitzvah #holidays #Christmas #Jewish Holidays #submission

[greycappedjester]

Since I log the fanfictions I read, I’m realizing that June 19th marks the first day I read one of your fics! I read All in the Cards and was blown away by the storyline. Then, I continued to read your HQ series, the other cards fics, and your Dr.STONE fic too. I want to read your DC fics as well. I don’t know much background on it though, so I’m working on it. I just wanted to say how much I appreciate your writing and how it has honestly made this past year a lot better. With all that being said though, what’s your favorite thing/theme to write in each of your individual series? Like world building, relationships, etc.? Also, what inspired you to write in the first place?

Ahhh, thank you so much! This is honestly such a sweet ask and I am so, so glad that I could make your year better.

For what's my favorite thing/theme to write in each series, that's a tough one as a lot of times in changes; but, after thinking about it, I think these are my favorite things overall for each....

(I also thought I'd do something fun and put what my favorite line to write was in the last few chapters for the ongoing works. I always wonder what lines are people's favorite so figured it would be fun to add mine)

Hq at Hogwarts: I really love writing Oikawa and Hinata's relationship. Which is kinda an odd thing to say since they purposefully only have a few conversations spread out through each story. But, they're my two favorite Hq characters to write hands down and so I absolutely love showing them as foils to each other in the series. That said, I also love writing them (and especially Oikawa and Suga) as foils/parallels to the Giant and Hisashi (Suga's grandfather). I love both foil relationships and writing parallels between generations--especially if the next generation is completely unaware/uninformed of the previous generation's mistakes

Favorite Recent Line to Write: Kenma met his eyes and his voice broke: “Why am I the only one you have to hide?”

*Note: Okay, technically not the most recent chapter but fun fact: I wrote the Kuroo/Kenma conversation waaaay in advance and used it a lot as a reference to where I wanted this relationship to be headed and I viewed this line as one of the biggest break points (along with "I am waiting" from the dance)

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Cards: This one is the most tricky for me to think of one since it changes a lot. I love doing the world building for this one (like the huge long time line I have for the history of the country). I love writing fantasy politics. As I consider a Hearts Civil War story more, I'm getting back into the groove of just really love writing Oikawa's complicated relationship with being King. And, of course, I love writing Tsuksihima and Hinata's relationship

Favorite Recent Line to Write: Oikawa swept across the office, never seeming to pause for even a second as he pointed a quill at Iwaizumi. “So, tell me, are invasions just like a semi-annual thing?”

-------

The Hq/Scooby-Doo AU (Investigations Inc.): the humor and banter

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Walking With My Eyes Open: I think this might be my favorite romance thing I've ever written. I really, really wanted to show a view of romance that emphasized the choice to be in love (and the work that goes into a functioning relationship). I especially wanted to do this with Hanahaki since this trope is so tied to the forfeit of choice on the patient's end and the inherent unfairness/weight on the person they're in love with. Couldn't imagine it with any other characters but Senkuu and Gen tbh.

Favorite Recent Line to Write: But, human shoulders weren’t meant to bear the expectations of divinity.

*Note: Lol, this scene got cut and reworded so many dang times in editing, the one thing that stayed consistently I feel like is me really wanting to keep this specific line

-------

After the Fall of Olympus: Three things and I find it really hard to pick which one is my favorite.

(1) I love that this story format lets me show the slow growth/aging of Dick as a character and (I hope) that each chapter shows how he's grown to the point that Dick at age 14 in Ch. 1 is noticeably younger in internal monologue than Dick in his 20s in the latest chapter.

(2) I love writing tricky political/social issues where all characters have their points and there truly is no write answer...with that, I love writing Dick and Jay Garrick's relationship.

(3) If I had to pick, I don't know if it's my favorite but I think it's the most important element of the story. I very much wanted to show a more realistic view of grief where it feels like the world ended; but, it's not actually an apocalypse. They recover. At the start of the story, it is without a doubt the lowest/most devastating point, but they rebuild. It's slow and there's set backs but they are rebuilding a world that isn't (and shouldn't be) the same but is there and is new and is important. I know a lot of stories that focus on grief view it as a tragedy and an end which it is in a huge way. There's the phrase "it gets better" but a lot of times I think it's viewed as "things will go back to what they used to be" which is understandably hard for people to believe because a lot of times, it fundamentally is impossible for what's lost to be regained. That doesn't mean it's the end of everything. I think sometimes we forget that the previous world (be it actual in this story or what feels like the entire world) may not exist anymore but something different can still be built. The new world and old should never be compared because they can't be. It won't be the same. But, it can be good and they can be happy.

Which is honestly the recovery of what Dick Grayson, to me, should represent rather than the constant grief/vengeance of Batman.

Favorite Recent Line to Write (technically the last line here, just doesn't make sense out of context)

“You need someone with you. I’m not just leaving you alone!” Selina shouts.

“No? Why not?” Dick spits back. “You’re so good at it !”

Selina flinches back and Dick is viciously, painfully glad.

“You don’t get to care just when it’s convenient, Selina,” he says and it hurts, a wound that’s never going to heal. “I needed someone eight years ago. I needed someone when Bruce died, when Batman was gone, and the city was falling apart, and you weren’t there. You didn’t call. You didn’t check on me. You didn’t even say bye. And that’s fine. I lived, I rebuilt it.”

He steps away. “But, you don’t get to come back now and pretend it never happened. I don’t have to let you just because it hurts either way.”

-------

Flash Facts of Bart Allen: Lol, what might be my least popular but in my opinion best written story. Favorite thing is Bart and Len's relationship hands down, followed by showing Bart's relationship with how he navigates the weight of the Flash legacy while feeling like he's fundamentally different than the Flashes that came before.

Partly since this is getting so long and partly because personal story, I'm putting why I started writing under the break.

I started writing for a lot of reasons.

My first fic--and the first book I ever finished--was the first Hq at Hogwarts story (Mirror of Erised). For background, I started the story when I was in my first year of getting my master's degree (which was surprisingly a lot less busy than my undergrad for a number of reasons but me getting sidetracked into that is a whole other ask about grad school).

My first reason I started writing was that I had more time. I'd had the idea for the story for years; but, I finally had enough details that I was like "okay, now, I gotta write it" so I did. I'll say exactly what the final straw was when I actually get the series finished since it's a major spoiler.

My second reason probably didn't consciously occur to me at the time but is what I consider the most important reason I write and continue to write. I fundamentally want to write stories that make people's days better. It doesn't have to be anything big; I just really wanted to write the kind of story that people could get lost in for a few hours when they're scrolling through AO3 and looking for a distraction. I wanted to write something with happy endings.

Here's the more personal part. I really don't mean this in a sad way so please don't take it as such. However, when I started writing and posting, my dad had just died completely unexpectedly a few months earlier and right before I had to move cross country for masters. It was definitely a hard time (though I had friends and a good support network, again please don't worry--it was years ago now). But, writing then definitely helped me be in a positive happy attitude while thinking of plots and friendships in my favorite anime that always puts be in a better mood.

My point here is that while that was never the reason that I wrote, it's something I reflect on a lot for why fanfic can be such a positive force. Someone can have either the worst day ever, a mildly inconvenient day, or a perfectly fine day and still want distraction. To have a community with both writers and readers interested in the things you're interested in. To have a site where fic can be easily shared and for free. There's something just wonderful about that.

So, most of all, why I write: I want to show people that care about each other. I want to make someone's day better and often that day is mine.

That's really all there is to it.

#atfo #hq at hogwarts #cards #wwmeo

[thewritingstar]

Up in the Clouds

Fandom: The PowerPuff Girls

Pairing: Blossick (Brick and Blossom aka Reds) 

I have been on a hype for the Reds lately and i have almost forgotten how much i love my og otp. This fic is kinda of all over and messy but its cute and i like it. A little out of character but i have a soft spot for the hc that the boys grew up and soon they all became closer, so the most unoriginal idea ever. 

Hope you enjoy! I should prob right for the other pairings too lol. 

------

“For this assignment, you will be given an emotion at random and must write AND present about.” The class groaned as she handed out the papers. “You can look at it however you want. Whether its stating things that occur during emotion or what you personally feel, be creative. You’ll present at the end of the month.” 

Brick took the papers and passed them back to the next student as the teacher came by and dropped a folded piece of paper on his desk. 

“Also there will be no changes. You get what you get.” She stated and he rolled his eyes as he opened the small piece. 

Love. 

His hands crumbled the paper in his fist and he knew it would be pathetic to try and get someone to change. He could do this. All he needed to do was make up some sappy shit and piss on about it. He thought about talking about platonic love or family love. How even though his brothers made him want to smash their faces into walls until their blood flows down his hand, he still cared about them. It felt more like he was obligated too anyways. 

“I got happiness, which is pretty vague. Hey Blossom? Which one did you get?” A fellow student, he thinks is named Alicia asked the pink puff. 

“Oh I got sorrow.” She responded and everyone had gone into discussions about their ideas and assignments. 

A guy turned to Brick to ask about his but he was already out the door as the bell rang. 

The cafe welcomed him as the small bell chimed. His head had been a mess after the assignment was made and although he had seven drafts planned out, none of them seemed to work. He even asked Boomer about it and as he went into detail about a blue eyed, pig tailed super hero, Brick was already regretting asking him. 

He ordered at the counter, just a simple soda and a crepe and turned to find a seat. He saw an empty table pressed against the wall to his left but as he turned to the right he saw another table. Occupied with a pink eyed, bow wearing superhero. 

He was already at the table before he registered what was happening. She seemed to be alone and he took her by surprise as she looked up. 

“Oh, Hi Brick.” She said and he gestured to the seat and she scooted a book out of the way before he plopped down. 

“What are you doing here, its like eight o’clock on a school night.” He noticed that the sun was dying down. 

She shrugged and pointed to her milkshake. “I had a craving, plus I have a late start period for school so I came here to clear my head. Plus Bubbles was being especially loud on the phone.” he already knew that she was referring to her and Boomer. They had been talking nonstop and not even a lamp thrown at his head would shut him up. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked him and he mimicked the shrug and pointed to his crepe. 

“Cravings. And needed some space, this English assignment is kicking my ass.” He didn’t know why he admitted to that and he saw her eyes perk up. 

“The emotion one?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah. Me too.” 

That took him by surprise. She was the one who was always raving with emotion, this should be a breeze. 

“What did you get?” She asked him. His eyes traveled to his plate were warm chocolate and fresh strawberries collided. 

“Strawberry.”

She let out a small laugh and he furrowed his eyebrows. 

“I meant for the project.” 

oh. 

He felt incredibly dumb at that moment and she bubbled out another laugh. That small sound was actually pleasant to hear and for some reason, he wanted to hear it again and again. 

“Oh. Um I got love.” He didn’t know why he felt slightly embarrassed and he picked up his drink to chugged it down as she held a puzzling expression. 

“Hmm that is a tough one. There’s all types of love.”

“That’s what i was thinking. Well, what about you?”

“Sorrow.”

“Well that’s easy, just pick something sad.” 

She said nothing for a moment and instead went to her milkshake, which he noticed was also strawberry, not that it mattered. 

“I don’t think its thats simple. Jeremy got sad and I got sorrow so i need to make sure it doesn’t sound similar.” 

“But they are similar.” 

“Well yes but-”

“Just talk about a loss you had as a superhero. What it feels like to not be able to save the day or something.” He was met with another round of silence. 

Her eyes traveled outside the window. the sun was now in its sunset glow and the sky had become a mixture of purple and pink as it faded out the blue. From the cafe you could see the lines of the city skyscrapers blending into the sky. It was quiet on this side of town and he wondered what it would be like to float onto those clouds, careless and free. 

--

And so they did. After she finished her milkshake and he his soda, he posed that they traveled to where only they could go. Why? He didn’t know and neither did she. 

Her legs dangled off the cloud that hovered just above the ocean. Some would be afraid that they would fall through but they had used their powers to keep them up. 

The cool air blew against their faces and he felt like he could breath better than on the ground.

“Have you ever been in love?” She asked out of the blue, her eyes were focused on the small waves rolling onto to the shore. 

“No.” A simple answer that he wasn’t to sure of. he should of been certain. he didn’t know what love, a romantic connection felt like. He had dated girls before, all throughout middle and high school but never once did those words cross his mind. 

“Me either.” She responded and he turned towards her. 

It was almost as if he couldn’t breath. A swell inside his chest had taken hold and he wondered why she looked so...beautiful against the light. the soft glow of the sun setting made her hair more vibrant and her baby pink eyes sparkle. He wanted to scream at himself for thinking like that but when she turned and caught his eyes, he watched the blush spread slowly on her fair skin and that protest had been silenced. 

They held each others gaze. He was right, he had never been in love before, but if he had then he would need a new word for what was happening to him now. His memory fled back to every girl he had ever dated and some how, somewhere, she was there in the background. During their fights or even civil conversations, she was the only one to catch his attention.

They had grown up together, viciously of course but after spending his adolescent wanted to rip her head off, he just wanted to pull her close. He never believed in fate or soulmates or what not but sometimes, even as a stupid kid, he wondered if that pink counterpart of a girl was actually made for him. 

“Thats a shame.” He whispered and he leaned closer as she did the same. 

“For the both of us.” But they barely beard her words as their lips connected. 

Her lips were soft as the cloud they were on. The taste of strawberry was on her lips and her hands wrapped around his neck as his got lost in her long ginger locks. They had spent all their time avoiding each other when they both knew that they would always return to each other. 

Every break up was about her. The girl getting mad at how he stared at her or made time to study but not for them. he didn’t realize it until now but that hatred he carried at the start of his creation had melted away slowly like an icicle at the end of winter. 

They pulled away and it felt colder than it was before. Her eyes still locked to his. Pink and Red. Just like the sunset and sky. Just like the glow of a bright raging fire. Just like them. 

it felt like eons had passed before she looked towards the city. That vibrant sunset was long gone as the sky had turned a deep black and was now painted with stars. 

“i should go.” She said but it sounded forced as if she was saying she didn’t want to. 

He nodded and they agreed that it was best to part separate since she lived on the other side. He helped her stand up, their feet sinking into the cloud and she turned to him with a soft smile. “Have a nice night Brick.” And soon the dark sky had a flash of pink that disappeared quickly under the stars. 

--

Bricks mind was lost and he tapped his pencil to his desk quietly. the presentations had started for the week and so far happiness, anger, fear and sorrow were up. His mind finally came back to focus towards the end of Blossoms piece and he had cursed himself for barely hearing the first half. 

“Its empty and cold, like an unforgiving stare. It haunts you in your dreams and leaves you feeling numb. It lingers and when you think that the pain and suffering is done, it washes over you again, taking and taking until the only sensation left is a hollow shell. 

My sisters and I have felt this on multiple occasions. When you can’t save everyone and feel the pity and sadness within the air. But joy and laughter can bring the sadness to a end. The sorrowfulness lasts longer than you think. And it makes you believe that nothing matters anymore.” Blossom finished the last of her piece. Her eyes, along with others in the class had glazed over and she was sure her teacher had been brought to tears at her story and ending. 

The applause from the class surrounded the room and she took a small bow before returning to her seat.

Maybe after class they could talk.

The bell sounded through the class and Blossom made her way out of the class. Another school day over.

“Hey.” She turned to see Brick. The students around them were bush trying to leave and get out quickly before a line at the parking lot formed.

“Hey” She returned softly and it dawned on them that they really didn’t know what was between them. 

That night a few weeks ago had not be forgotten but was placed high up on a shelf, they almost forgot about it, almost. Its not like they were avoiding each other, no, school and work had overcome both of their lives, mostly hers of course. 

“So do you maybe wanna go-” He started but the red pair was interrupted with a flash of blue between them. 

“Hey Blossom! Hi Brick.” Bubbles smiled brightly. “Oh Bloss just to let ya know tonight is Sister Showdown.” Her smile held a evil glare and she turned and exited school. 

“What the hell is Sister Showdown?” He asked and Blossom blew up her bangs. 

“Its a competition thing between Bubbles and Buttercup. Last time one was held, we had to replace our roof so I’d rather not be there.” The hallways were no empty and it was just them. “So what were you saying?” 

--

They ended up at the cafe for the third time that week. Every milkshake and crepe was finished with a trip to the clouds as they watched the sun set. They never spoke about what they were or the emotions, just enjoyed each others company and maybe left the night with a kiss or two. 

They talked about anything and everything, sometimes just sitting quietly and counting the waves. 

Her sisters would asked where shes been and she had the same studying excuse before humming to herself and falling asleep with a smile at her lips. 

His brothers would hound on him, teasing him and slapping him until he would throw them off and the subject would be dropped, but they never missed the fact that he was in a better mood. 

It was their secret. The clouds and them. He found it easier and easier to write his paper after watching endless movies, though in the back of his mind, the two main love interest were always replaced with a pair of redheads. Pink and red. 

--

The end of the presentation days came and of course Brick was the last to go.

“That’s the thing about love. You think you know yourself as the days go by, that you recognize every moment as what they are. Love can’t blind you if you’re always aware. It won’t bother you as you keep it in line, making sure that you don’t slip up as you keep reminding yourself there’s no point.” He looked up and was met with a wide pair of eyes. 

Pink. Bright pink. 

“And then you jolt awake. It hits you faster than the speed of light and soon you are falling. Your lungs squeeze tight as you gasp for air and only when you admit to yourself is when you can breath. Love will force you to look at all the positives. It forces that other person onto a silver platter and a podium that is so small, only they can stand on it. They might not think they are perfect but your mind becomes numb and blind to the heart, its the only explanation. That’s the thing about love, right when you think you’ve fallen, you hit the ground.” 

He hadn’t even looked at his paper as his eyes were still lined with hers. The applause in the room shook him to his core as he broke the gaze held with the fiery redheaded girl. 

“And when you never think love will come towards you, you might find that its been there all along.” 

He couldn’t tell you what the teacher said as he returned to his seat and his mouth was parted open slightly as it dawned on him what he had just done. 

He wrote that for the assignment. Based off of shitty romance novels and movies. But in the end, it had been for her. 

Always her. 

--

She found him high up in the clouds that night. They hadn’t spoken since and every word he said had ran through his mind. 

Their shoulders touched as she sat next to him. Both their eyes focused on the waves below. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it felt natural and good. Although the quiet night was peaceful, he was ridged and frozen in place. 

Even with his blank expression, she could tell his mind was racing. He was choosing his words and mapping out the thoughts and scenarios one by one. And she was doing that too but there were times where planning and perfection weren’t always the best plans. 

He turned towards her, his mouth open as if he were ready to speak but she had already decided that he had said enough. The next thing he knew, her lips were connected with his. 

Its soft and sweet. Delicate but fragile. His eyes had closed and his hand gently rested on her cheek as she leaned into his touch. He could hear her heartbeat thumping at a fast pace and knew his was just the same. A small sound escaped her lips as he tilted his head and soon her arms were around his shoulders as they fell deeper into each other. She could feel the smirk on his lips as they pulled away. 

Both breathing heavily for air as their foreheads rested against one another. 

“Did-did you mean what you said.” She whispered and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Everything you said?”

He rested the urge to not pull her back into another breathtaking kiss but instead raised an eyebrow. “What if it wasn’t about you?” He teased but they both knew the truth. They couldn’t lie anymore, not to each other at least. 

She smirked as she placed down between them before meeting his eyes. That motion alone had him spiraling as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing his. “Then I guess it would be a shame to say that I’ve fallen.” 

“It would be a shame for the both of us.” He kissed her. “But I’ve been on the ground for a long time.” 

“Good.”

---

I hope you liked it!!!

#blossom x brick #blossick #blossick fanfic #powerpuff girls #ppg x rrb #ppg #rrb #ppg fanfic #thewritingstar #reds #blossom ppg #brick rrb

[echodrops]

My KH3 Fix-It Dream

(Warning, long post is long because part way through I just started writing bits of the actual fic, oops.)

There’s a lot of people complaining about this and that with the KH3 plot, but I honestly don’t have too many complaints because the story we were given was about what I expected (did anyone realllyyy believe that Kairi was going to become a badass Keyblade wielder? Search your heart, you know you saw this travesty coming), except on one front: Vanitas was tragically under-utilized. After being hyped up so much in the trailers, you’d think that he would have at least had a go in the game that was worthy of his character. But KH3′s Vanitas was little more than a shadow of BBS’s, and that’s a darn shame.

So, I present to you: a fix-it fic plot bunny that fixes several things at once:

1) Vanitas doesn’t die. Okay, actually, it still works fine if he does die, but we’ll take his “I’m always with you” suggestion literally--Vanitas is a heart of Darkness wrapped in a body made of bad feelings, and that final battle was one brutal attack on the feels after another. The fear, anxiety, horror, and desperation the Lights, especially Sora upon witnessing what happens to Kairi, manifests as so much accumulated negativity that Vanitas--even though he actually wants to!!--can’t stay dead, and his heart, which naturally lingered with Sora and Ventus even after his defeat, gets shoved back into another body made entirely of other people’s suffering and pain, now even more unstable and dysfunctional than before.

2) The final battle happens. Kairi is saved, but Sora disappears. While the finally-reunited good-guy crew are busy coming out of shock planning how they’ll inevitably rescue Sora, they’re also struggling with another major issue: what to do about Vanitas, who is as comatose as Ven was at the beginning of BBS, a broken heart in a broken body.

3) Nobody wants to say “mercy kill”... The idea is there, but none of the gang is really willing to do it barring maybe Roxas, whose practicality is actually alarming (”You’re not going to be feeling so sympathetic when he wakes up and stabs somebody, you know. Don’t say I didn’t warn you”). Even Aqua, who knows as well as Ven how much of a danger Vanitas is, can’t really convince herself to attack someone who's completely helpless. But what to do, if not that? He isn’t waking up, and anywhere they leave him, he’ll have to be guarded around the clock--he still, technically, has the ability to trigger the apocalypse if left unattended to chase hearts of light, you know.

4) It’s Ven’s idea to take him to Destiny Islands. That was Master Xehanort’s plan for Ven, after all, when they were first separated: let Ven’s empty body waste away, forgotten, in a backwater world. Instead he’d made contact with Sora--and nobody wants to say that either, that maybe there’s the tiniest bit of hope: somehow, some way, maybe Sora can still be reached, maybe the call of yet another heart in need will be irresistible enough to make the unfailing hero claw his own way back from the brink...

5) What really happens is this: Sora’s mother has had MORE THAN ENOUGH. Spaceships start dropping out of the sky, the deserted play island is somehow brimming with grown men and women running around, she sees Kairi of all people wandering right back into town as if she hasn’t been inexplicably absent for months... So where is Sora? Where is Sora and why is he not coming home? Finally, after three days of radio silence from Kairi and Riku (Riku’s been gone for years, and now he’s suddenly here, without Sora? When has there ever been a such thing as Riku without Sora?), Sora’s mother prepares a scolding on the level of God casting humans out of the Garden of Eden and indignantly rows her way out to the play island. It seems there’s a whole crowd gathered at a bonfire down the beach, but she never makes it there. Because there’s Sora right there on the paopu island, there’s Sora, only everything’s wrong--who let him dye his hair like that, what is he wearing, why won’t he wake up--”Sora? SORA!”

6) It’s Riku who tells her the truth. That Sora is gone, in the wind, not even a body to bury except this one, this boy who’s wearing the face of the son she hasn’t held in her arms in ages--maybe never will again. This is what he looks like now, Riku says, but this isn’t him. (How? How is this not her son? Under his bangs there’s the same freckle at the edge of his forehead she used to give good night kisses to--)

7) They make several attempts to stop her (”Ma’am,” the man with brown hair and guilty eyes says, “Ma’am, you really can’t--he’s a danger to--”) but none of them stopped her son either and if they’ll stand by and let the light of all the worlds extinguish itself, let’s be honest, they’re just not that good of guardians. She takes Sora the boy named Vanitas home. In Sora’s old bed he looks comical, the only time, maybe, that he’ll ever look tall, and the shadow of the toys and clutter she hadn’t had the heart to clean (not after the day she remembered that the room up the stairs wasn’t just sealed up storage, that a boy had lived there, that his worn clothes were still strewn across the floor, that she’d had a son at all, Sora, for a whole year she’d forgotten the name, the sound, the jut of his lip in a pout--) falls over his face. They say he’s not her son.

8) Well, she thinks, we’ll see about that.

And lol I know that was a million words but like that was the prologue and the actual rest of the fic goes like this:

Sora’s mom takes care of Vanitas’ comatose body because hey, she’s a pediatric nurse, that kind of thing is literally her job. Riku and Kairi try to bodyguard her for a couple weeks, but the longer Vanitas stays asleep, the less and less often they come around--they’ve got to find Sora, after all.

The longer she takes care of Vanitas-not-Sora though, the worse her loneliness gets, until the deep vein of Darkness sadness (she lost her son not once, not twice, but three times) resonates with the shattered remnants of Vanitas’ heart and she forcefully because Sora got his busybodiness from somewhere generously connects with him enough to wake him up.

(“Go away,” answers a voice without speaking.

“Why?”

“You’re annoying me. I’m tired.”

“You’re hurt.”

“That’s what I said.”

No it isn’t.

There’s a certain sort of sadness only people who’ve lived through losing the light of their lives will ever know. There’s a kind of kinship in surviving separation. Her heart aches, goes out of her all at once, reaching--

“I made my decision. Leave me alone.”

"Did you make that decision because you were alone?”)

Only, you know, Vanitas doesn’t want to be awake or even alive now that he has absolutely no purpose, no master, no X-blade, no mission, nowhere to go, and no chance of ever reuniting with Ven--so fuck off, he’s not going to eat those home-made muffins and he’s not going to go take a bath even if he does stink, and he’s not going to talk, and he’s not coming out from under the covers for anything less than the sweet release of a swift execution.

...But that’s so boring.

So he insults her instead. And threatens her and mocks her and knocks over the water glasses she brings and lets the Unversed chase her out of the room and picks out all the stitches on this ugly hand-sewn quilt and asks her why she’s got a room full of toys but no kid to go in it.

No sell: she’s a pediatric nurse and dealing with sick, miserable, screaming children is what she does every day. And anyway, from seven to eight Sora threw a year of temper tantrums that make this boy look positively mild.

There’s one more thing working in her favor: he’s still curious. She learns: he’s never had a fruit smoothie, read a comic book, or slept in sheets fresh from the dryer. Sora’s old action figures aren’t played with so much as dismembered in effigy (is it that Vanitas is vindictive or that he’s jealous?), but the new electric toothbrush somehow wins grudging approval. The vacuum cleaner startles him the first time she turns it on, but one night when she goes for a drink at 3am, she discovers he’s been teaching himself to use the TV. Finding out the water can come out of the taps already hot buys her a whole seven minutes of intrigued silence, but the existence of ice cube trays might as well be a mortal offense. (”Don’t tell me you people actually wait for the water to--?” Given that he then summons a block of ice longer than the dining room table out of thin air, she thinks on this occasion he might be right though when he leaves said ice block to melt, her charitable feelings dry up.) He has to watch her pick herbs from the garden and cook with them before he can be convinced that the “weeds” are food. In short, he’s barely half way back from feral, and if the man who made him wasn’t already dead, she’d happily go kill that piece of shit herself.

It turns out, with spit, polish, and proper motivation (read as: bribes, read as: hot pot and honey castella), he’ll do the things she asks (sometimes). When he actually commits himself to a task, he’s focused to an alarming degree, meticulous and self-critical, and he stubbornly refuses to give up until he’s content with the results, which means that sometimes on her way to work she finds him where she left him the night before, still glaring, bleary-eyed and bratty, at the broken stand-mixer or mantle clock or book spine that she hoped he could fix with magic. If he spitefully tracks mud all over the house after he relentlessly weeds the whole garden, well, she’d say the benefits still outweigh the costs.

The hoard of creatures that follow him around (”They’re my feelings,” he says, and kicks one without the slightest hesitation) take getting used to, but it’s easier to share space when they make themselves so useful--sometimes even when he can’t be badgered into work, he’s willing the boss the underlings into action: the crooked door on the backyard shed finally gets rehung thanks to a towering brute with a banana peel on its head, and once she opens a jar in the kitchen she doesn’t remember buying and finds it full of rich, warm apple pie.

He gets... better. It’s not linear. They have bad days, days when he breaks things without warning and won’t talk except through stinging barbs, one day so bad he let a flock of his worst feelings pound enormous holes in the living room walls, burns up her favorite rose bush--but they have good days too. Some days he laughs and it isn’t malicious at all; some days he eats with her at the table without even being asked; some days she comes home late to find he’s still awake, ready to poke fun at the tired way she toes off her shoes, and it takes everything she has to keep from saying You really didn’t have to wait up for me.

One day he smiles for no reason at all, and she thinks: The boy’s going to be okay.

(But how in the world is she going to explain all this to Sora?)

And there’s sooo much else I want to write but I can’ttttttt, I don’t have time, so here’s a bullet list of “also featuring:”

Vanitas being a natural Heartless deterrent because none of them want to mess with the biggest Darkness on the block.

Ven, Terra, and Aqua sniffing around trying to figure out whether they need to take Vanitas back (just to make sure he’s properly under watch, of course); Sora’s mom giving them the politest “Fuck you” this side of the universe.

Kairi and Vanitas friendship. Vanitas doesn’t even know it’s happening. Kairi is devious. Vanitas taking over Kairi’s training even though they can’t physically spar because they’ll literally end the world if they fight lol. Kairi taking advantage of Vanitas’ lack of interest in social cues to get him to do things none of the other boys will do with her like clothes shopping.

Kairi and Axel friendship with Roxas being the weird middle man who doesn’t know why they can’t just text each other instead of sending handwritten letters back and forth through him of all people.

Vanitas and Roxas reaching grudging levels of respect because sarcastic bitches gotta support each other.

Roxas and Sora’s mom being hilariously awkward because Sora’s mom doesn’t know if she should also be claiming responsibility for this child too and Roxas is absolutely clueless about the concept of having parents in the first place.

After many chapters of redemption arc, Sora’s mom taking Vanitas with her to work at the hospital so he can turn the sick children’s negative feelings into Unversed and then defeat them. She doesn’t know this hurts him and he sure as fuck isn’t going to tell her.

Everything going to shit when Chirithy shows up, insisting Vanitas is its master and calling him “Ven.” Vanitas was getting better--he was getting over the fact that he’d never be “Ventus” again--

Discovering memories of Daybreak Town and the first Keyblade War with Chirithy’s (and Namine’s!) help. Remembering the existence of old friends--Ephemer, Skuld, the other Union leaders--and the realization that they might still be alive, trapped in a timeless world of sleep.

Vanitas and Riku teaming up after someone (Mickey? Yen Sid?) suggests that Sora’s heart may have returned to the place where all hearts eventually go--the core of light that lies sleeping in the deepest depths of the realm of Darkness. Realm of Darkness road trip! (This is just my excuse to wax philosophical about how being made of Darkness doesn’t actually make anyone evil.)

Finding out that saving Sora will mean finally, actually opening the door to the true Kingdom Hearts, which can only be accessed via Scala Ad Caelum, or, more specifically, the ruins of Daybreak Town that lie beneath it.

Insert some Nomura-esque convoluted plot here about how the clock of Daybreak Town isn’t actually a bell tower but the mechanism for protecting the original X-blade and the door to Kingdom Hearts, and Daybreak!Ventus’ very existence was somehow tied to this clock tower--that’s why Ventus’ and Vanitas’ Keyblades form the two halves of a broken gear: they’re maybe literally the gear that turns the hands of time in the world that once lay closest to the heart of all things. The bell, the sword, the door--they’re all linked, and the only way to save Sora--to save everyone, including the sleeping Dandelions--is to reunite (to wake) their fractured dream of Daybreak with reality, restore the X-blade, and retrieve Sora’s wandering self with the power of Kingdom Hearts’ connection to all worlds and all hearts.

In short, like Nomura, I don’t actually know how I’d ever make it make sense, but the X-blade would get forged by Ven and Vanitas in a safe and sane way (this is just my excuse to give Vanitas a scene where he finally recognizes that he is content to be a separate being from Ventus; that he wants to stay his own person)... Kairi wields the X-blade because fuck you KH3, and everyone gets the damn happy ending they deserve--but most especially Vanitas, who gets to be the big damn hero to finally bring Sora home safe to their mother.

Like guys, I just need Vanitas’ narrative arc to feel coherent and complete. I need to know why he and Ven have a gear motif. How they’re connected to the Dandelions. Whether or not Ventus and Vanitas could ever both simultaneously be at peace despite remaining separate people. Whether Chirithy would have recognized Vanitas. Why Ventus alone had the power to forge the X-blade by reuniting with his other half when it would otherwise have taken 13 Darknesses and 7 Lights. What Sora’s mother would say finding out her son has like five clones now. If anyone would ever recognize that Vanitas had never been shown basic fucking human kindness.

Nomura. Plz.

#Vanitas #Kingdom Hearts 3 #Kingdom Hearts #fix-it fic #Kingdom Hearts 3 spoilers #Kingdom Hearts fanfiction #plot bunny #tl;dr: Sora's mom adopts Vanitas #because she's not a Keyblade Wielder and doesn't know shit about Light vs. Darkness #and like two ounces of love and decency #turn Vanitas into the hero he always had the potential to be #also there's Chirithy #because Vanitas deserves to hug a talking cat #no hurt all comfort #so just like imagine everything I wrote here #but actually in-character #and infused with my typical over-emotional hyper-focus #and that's the story #I'll almost inevitably never actually write this #RIP

[writesaboutbangtan17]

the right bite | 01

vampire!minghao x reader fluff, angst, and (eventual) smut

16,180 words

a/n: sooo...here’s the vampire minghao fic...it is...very explicitly halloween-themed lol...but i changed the whole concept at the last minute n it’s taken me awhile to write...so here it is in early november instead of on halloween as promised. i’m sorry. it was hard for me to get into halloween this year :( so this is my love letter and “i’ll try harder next time” to my favorite holiday. part 2 has the smut! it’s almost done n will be out in a couple of days. enjoy!!!

~ in which you fall for some guy at some party without meaning to and soon discover he’s not exactly what he says he is...

Tues., October 31st, 2017 @ Kennedy South Residence Hall, 6:24 P.M.

 In the grand scheme of things, you knew that you’d been through a lot worse than this, and if history was any indicator, there was worse yet to come. But right here, right now, rolling around on your friend’s closet floor on the verge of tears—you decided this was the worst moment of your life.

 Momo wasn’t of much help, of course, with all of her attention hyper-focused on her phone instead of anything you were up to. If you had only one chance to guess exactly what she was doing or be mauled to death by a bear, you'd bet your entire life that she was sexting Mina...and your suspicions were confirmed when you popped your head up out of the laundry pile you'd buried yourself beneath and caught sight of the "racy" picture that your friend was drooling over. A pout, a loose sweater, some sort of bedroom eyes. Gross.

 "It's just her shoulder," you whined, "you've spent the better half of the last two years elbow deep in her front bottom and you're gonna bust a fucking nut over that?" Any other time Momo's glare would have split you in half, but after this long, exhausting month you'd had, you were impenetrable. It was a shame, really. You'd have preferred to melt under her gaze than live just one agonizing second longer.

 And you couldn't believe you were feeling this low in October of all months. Sure, you'd had a few bad Marches and a shitty September or two, but you loved Halloween. You loved pumpkin spice everything and leaves falling and screaming at all the scares you knew were coming in movies you'd seen eighty times and running out of haunted houses—you lived for all that shit.

 Leave it to some stupid boy to ruin your favorite time of the year.

 They were always ruining everything. That's why you had, up until now, happily remained the one forever-single friend in the group.

 "How dare you call my girlfriend's vagina a 'front bottom'?" was all she said, and she didn't even have the decency to admit it was ridiculous to get all hot and bothered over a selfie with some off-the-shoulder sweater action, let alone get off her ass and give you a hand trying to throw yet another costume together. You regretted helping her pack all of the boxes stacked up in the living room if this was how she was going to repay you.

 Off her shoe rack, you grabbed a pair of knock-off Louboutin pumps and all you could think up in your wilted, dusty little brain was to dress up as a hooker. One of your friends had to have some sort of little metallic tube dress and faux fur jacket you could borrow, too. He’ll have to take me home tonight if I show up at the party with no underwear on, right?

 "I can call my best friend's vagina whatever I want," you insisted, "do you think I could squeeze into these?" Finally, finally, Momo locked her phone and tossed it onto a pillow before coming over to kneel at your side. At last, she gave you a look filled with all the pity and shame that you deserved, and reached out to ruffle your hair in some sort of attempt at comfort.

 In the softest, most tender voice she could manage, she reminded you, "No, Bigfoot, I'm like two shoe sizes smaller than you are." And with the moment effectively ruined and your mood suddenly five times worse, you dropped the shoes and threw the closest (softest) thing within reach right at her head. You didn’t even see what it was until she was trying to pull it off, only becoming more and more wrapped up in it. It was an ratty old black blanket with red lining—and there you had it, the lightbulb gone off over your head.

 "Give me that!" You screeched, making frenzied grabs at the fabric. You pulled one way and Momo pulled another and if the gagging noises happening in there were any indication, you were pretty sure you were strangling her to death. She totally would have chokeslammed you when she was free of her fleece cocoon but you had that manic look in your eyes that meant trouble and she knew that one of you needed to remain calm. For once, it was her.

 "I'll get the scissors and the fabric glue," she sighed before she disappeared out of the room and left you spreading the blanket out on the floor.

Thurs., October 5th, 2017 @ The Yard, 9:13 P.M.

 "I can't see anything," Nayoung whined as she ran into yet another tree. The fourth, to be exact, since you’d all gotten out of her car. You'd seen her heading right for it, but out of tough love had just allowed the collision to happen before your very eyes.

 "That's what you get for wanting to dress up as the three blind mice," you lectured her for the five thousandth time that night, "that shit's ableist." From her side, in a matching black dress and mouse ears and sunglasses, Minkyung flicked you off as she helped Nayoung pick leaves out of her perfectly styled red hair. The third blind mouse, Kyungwon, ran up from behind to smack you on the head with her walking stick.

 "Fuck you! We look cute!" She cried indignantly when you ripped the walking stick out of her hand and threw it into the crowd. A painful yelp cut through the sound of "The Monster Mash" warbling out of speakers set up around the courtyard, and you relished in the fact that if that poor unintended victim of your frustration came looking for somebody to rip a new asshole for hitting him, his rage would be directed at one of these insufferable three.

 They did look cute, but it didn't stop the concept from being any less…offensive. You, on the other hand, had gone the safe route and dressed up as Rosie the Riveter for the third Halloween season in a row. Even if you gained a few pounds over the holidays and through summer and the beginning of a new school year, all you needed to recreate the outfit was the same red bandana, a denim shirt from the thrift store, your trusty high waist jeans, and boots. It wasn't the cutest costume, or the sexiest, but it portrayed exactly what you wanted it to: you were an independent, strong woman who wasn't looking for a guy to ply her with booze and sneak her back to their dorm tonight.

 Momo promised it would only attract girls, and all the women-loving-women you knew were taken for now—so you were safe. Being the forever-single friend in the group was a tough job to keep up, that was for sure, but someone had to do it. If you had to not waste money on a new costume and not have your boobs hanging out when the fall chill was coming in, then so be it. You would take one for the team.

 "Where are the boys? Can you see them?" Minkyung tugged on your sleeve to ask you, and you reluctantly scanned the gyrating crowd of bodies for Seokmin and Mingyu—she and Kyungwon's boyfriends of the semester. You had only met them a few times before, when your friends dragged you out to the movies, refusing to let you spend a night in instead of being the thirteenth or fifteenth or seventeenth fucking wheel on their massive group dates. Catching sight of Seokmin and his smile by the drinks only reminded you of being introduced to him before the movie, and then having to sit through it trying to focus on the plot and the characters and the god awful dialogue instead of every one of your friends making out the whole time.

 "They're over there," you pointed them out flippantly, and you were about to turn and head off in the opposite direction to find the rest of your friends when Minkyung latched onto your sleeve again and asked in a tiny voice,

 "Can you take us over to them? I really can't see." You were too soft for she and Kyungwon, you knew it and they knew it and they were always using it to their advantage. Tough love wouldn’t work with them the way it worked with Nayoung, either, so you didn’t do what you should have: stolen her sunglasses and run off with them, not giving her an excuse to make you walk all eight yards or so over to their annoying boyfriends.

 You didn’t know it yet, but it was over by their annoying boyfriends that your life was about to change forever—so it was pretty lucky that you’d somehow inherited two children over the course of the past year. You wouldn’t be thanking them any time soon, though. They were still juvenile, petulant little babies who had a whole lot of growing up to do.

 Arm-and-arm with Minkyung, who grabbed Kyungwon to drag along behind the two of you, you made your way through the crowd. You passed Eunwoo and Hansol yucking it up, Yebin grinding with her not-a-fling-but-not-yet-girlfriend, Jihyo and Nayeon showing off their angel and devil costumes to Seungcheol and Jeonghan (Nayeon was the devil, of course.) Somewhere in the crowd, you were sure Momo and Mina were in the middle of a heated dance battle with another couple from their exclusive lesbian squad. They'd dressed up as the tap dancing girls emoji, which had been your idea, not that they'd give you the credit for it.

 "Oh Y/N! I'm so happy to see you!" Minkyung sent you pleading eyes not to murder Seokmin right then and there as his screaming sent spittle flying all over your face. You didn’t, just for her. He threw his arms around your body to engulf you in a bear hug that only two people who had known each other for years, knew each other intimately and personally should share—he was a weird kid. Nice, super nice, but…too nice. Weird. Mingyu, on the other hand, went right by you to get to Kyungwon, which was much more normal and you didn’t mind at all. You’d only met them, what, twice? Three times?

 You tried to shuck Seokmin's arms from around you in as friendly a way as possible, and Minkyung came to your rescue by squeezing in between the two of you and pushing her boyfriend away. Air rushed back into your lungs, free from being crushed by the lively boy, and next on your agenda was getting your hands some liquor—right there behind Kyungwon and Mingyu in a sudden liplock was the table endlessly full of glass bottles and juice to mask the alcohol with and red plastic cups.

 There was a lot more vodka in your drink than the blue punch allowed you to taste, which was exactly what you were going for, and you were already feeling much more light and loose after you downed your first full cup. Had any of your friends been paying attention they might have stopped you from immediately pouring yourself another, but they were too busy with their significant others to pay you any mind—as always.

 So you were a little bitter, how could you not be? You were a strong, independent woman, yes, but...kissing was kind of nice, at least from what you could remember of it. Admittedly, your romantic history was sparse. You'd gotten used to being single, it was just that seeing your friends in happy relationships made you wish you had someone's hand to hold and someone to show off a cute couple's costume with sometimes. Even bad single bitches were allowed to feel lonely every once in awhile.

 "Hello there, are you alright?" And it was in that moment that the clouds parted, and God himself, should he truly exist, shone the light of the sun down on you—well that's what it felt like. It was the middle of the night. But when this new voice chimed in your ear and the sight of this handsome new face came into view, perhaps the stars twinkled a little brighter, excited just for you. This concerned stranger with golden skin that looked warm to the touch, large brown eyes, this darling round nose, and perfectly kissable petal pink lips had come at just the right moment.

 "Oh, I-I'm fine?" Too bad your stupid mouth couldn't keep up with your brain and your heart that were screaming at you not to fuck this up! This was the Prince Charming you'd been waiting for, obviously. He was relieved to hear your answer, running a hand through his dyed bleach blonde hair and letting his pout relax into a grin.

 "Good. It seemed that your mind had wandered off somewhere," he said. Belatedly, you noticed the pointed pearly white fangs he was wearing and the fake blood smeared across his chin, splattered onto the collar of the crisp white button-up he had on beneath a vest made of crushed red velvet. There was a pair of black slacks and shoes to compete the outfit, but what pulled it all together was the cape that he had draped over his shoulders, black lined with a rich, rosy red. You didn't miss the bat brooch pulling his collar together or the cross dangling from the ear, either.

 It was a little embarrassing for you that a cliché, basic Dracula costume could seem so impressive just because it was on a man this beautiful. You weren't used to being reduced to nothing by college boys anymore.

 "It...it did but...I'm back now," you explained, piecing the words together slowly, "I'm Y/N." The good-looking stranger's smile shifted again into something darker, the tips of his fangs peeking out from beneath his upper lip, as he took the hand you held out to him. When he lifted it to place a delicate kiss upon your knuckles, you didn't cringe the way you knew you would have had he been any other guy at this party.

 "My name is Minghao," he offered. You repeated the name in your head a few times, then finally allowed yourself to taste it on your tongue,

 "Hello, Minghao," and it tasted good. That was a name you could get used to saying, could get used to moaning underneath him in bed. The dirty thought gave your cheeks a pink tint that Minghao noticed straight away. He lowered your hand but instead of letting you go, moved to link your fingers with his.

 "Would you like to dance with me?" There was no answer but yes, please, right now, f o r e v e r. He led you away from your friends, deeper into the crowd until you'd reached the exact middle of the yard, and "Disturbia" by Rihanna might as well have been a brilliant waltz with the way Minghao began to twirl and dip you down to the grass. Lucky for you that you were wearing your heavy boots instead of one of the pairs of break-your-neck heels that any of your friends had on with the way you tripped over and over again, but Minghao always scooped you back onto your feet and kept going.

 It was strange, that was for sure. You should have felt embarrassed, and the two of you got your fair share of stiff stares and unkind chuckles thrown your way, but if Minghao didn't mind them than neither did you. It was just like a dream. He never took his eyes off of yours, and he never let go of your hand.

 Well, not until, per standard stereotypical Halloween playlist rules, "Disturbia" faded out into "Thriller". Minghao immediately disengaged from you, grabbed you by your shoulders, and yelled over the opening sound effects, "Oh, shit, I've been waiting for this to come on all night! Stay right here, I've gotta find Chan!" Then he was sprinting through the crowd looking for this so-called Chan and leaving you behind.

 Who...was that person? His name was Minghao, he was dressed as a vampire, and one second he was acting like a Victorian prince straight out of a an old English romance novel but the next he'd reverted right back to the average frat boy you knew he had to be. Still, you waited. At least his sudden shift in behavior was just to excitement and wonder instead of to that of some sleazy fuckboi trying to to get in your pants.

 "It's close to miiidnight and something evil's lurking from the dark…" Michael Jackson was singing as Minghao returned with this short, bright-eyed boy, definitely a freshman, and the pair of them immediately stepped into choreography that there was no way they hadn't prepared beforehand. You honestly didn't know what to do or what to say, just stood with wide disbelieving eyes as they perfectly mirrored each other's moves, a tick of the head here and a two step there and thrusts all over the place.

 And yet the most mystifying part was when Mingyu and Seokmin came jogging over and started dancing, followed by Hansol and Jeonghan and a few other guys from their frat. As shameless as ever, Nayeon threw herself into the mix, picking up on the moves quickly, and Minkyung and Kyungwon stood beside their boyfriends showing them what to do. It was like watching a scene from a cheesy 80's movie play out in real life—too bad you didn't fit into any of the cheesy 80's movie stereotypes.

 The least surprising part was when Momo and Mina ran by you to join the fun, but as soon as they turned and saw you attempting to be nothing more than a peaceful spectator to this performance, Momo grabbed your hand to pull you in. "You know I can't dance," you hissed as Mina grabbed your arms to move into the right position, "God, this is why I hate you guys so much!"

 "You're doing great," you heard Minghao say, and behind Momo there he was, but he was faced away from you pulling off the perfect moonwalk for the crowd. Holy shit, you hoped this was all just a weird dream, because if that wasn't the case you were going insane and imagining the voice of some guy you'd just fucking met in your head.

 You let Mina and Momo puppet you through the whole routine, until the ending narration was echoing through the yard and they let you go. Before you could escape into one of the nearby houses to hide in the bathroom until you woke up, you felt the telltale tug of Minkyung grabbing your sleeve.

 "Minnie, I really can't talk right now," you were saying as you turned around, "I've gotta get out of here, I think I've finally gone off the deep end and made up everything that's happened over the past twenty minutes in my—" She wasn't standing there alone. Seokmin was at her side, of course, so was Kyungwon, and Mingyu was coming up behind her with his arm thrown around Minghao's shoulders, the two laughing like old friends.

 "Y/N! What did you think?" Minghao asked as they approached you, and he was so eager to hear your praise that you couldn't just duck out to make the getaway you so desperately wanted to.

 "It was amazing," you said, and you meant it, even though your heart had been filled with dread and confusion and panic for much of it. And that's when he slammed the final nail down into your metaphorical coffin—the son of a bitch giggled. It was a twinkling sound, one that skipped into your ear and danced around while it embedded itself into your brain, swam through your bloodstream so that it could take a dip in your heart. He giggled and you were gone—gone for him.

 "I know it was kind of silly," he said quietly, so that only you could hear, "but dancing is one my simpler pleasures." The shift back to the language and speaking rhythm of this classic gentleman you'd first met gave you whiplash. At a loss for words, you could only present a soft smile and nod, and let him take your hand back into his. From the corner of your eye, you saw Minkyung's jaw literally drop at the sight—now that you thought about it, she'd never really seen you flirting with or getting any attention from a guy, and especially hadn't seen you turn into complete and utter mush for one.

 Just as she was lurching forward to grab you and demand answers, Minghao whispered, "Would you like to find some place quiet to talk?" into your ear, and he was whisking you away. One of the houses further from all of the action had a porch swing swaying lightly in the breeze that he led you to, and when you were finally alone you had so many questions that you wanted to ask him: Why did he talk like that? How did he know Mingyu? Did he make that Thriller choreography himself? Where did he learn how to waltz? Who was Chan? Why did he dress up as a vampire?

 (He pulled it off, of course, but to settle for a default vampire was kind of lame. Minghao didn't seem lame.)

 You didn't ask any of those questions, though. The two of you settled down onto the swing and he smiled down at you leaned against him and all you could say was, "You're an...interesting guy, Minghao."

 "That's one way of putting it," he laughed, and then his laugh tapered off into a warm, pleasant silence. The swing rocked you back and forth and you might have fallen asleep if Minghao's presence alone didn't make you feel like you were at the end of a live wire, packed with all this energy that only wanted to direct itself into one action—kissing the hell out of him.

 You considered for just a second that maybe he could read your mind when he bent down to bring his face closer to yours, but you quickly abandoned that thought so you could concentrate on only what was so physically him. He had one arm curled around your shoulder to pull you into his chest, and his other hand found its place resting on your thigh. Both of your own hands gripped tight onto the lush fabric of his vest, knuckles turned white with anticipation.

 He was so close, and you let your eyes close just as his lips were about to touch yours...but at the last second, you felt a finger on your chin turning your head to the side, and his nose brushing along your collar. You'd never felt so much before like your heart was going to beat out of your chest as the tip of his nose traced a line along your collarbone from your chest to your shoulder, than back up your shoulder and your neck to your jugular.

 With his nose and lips against your throat, Minghao inhaled as deeply as if he'd just come up after a trip to the bottom of the ocean for that first sweet breath of fresh air.

 You didn't see it happen, didn't feel the swing move or feel his hands slipping from his hold on you—you must have been just that lost in your thoughts and the overwhelming bliss of the moment. One moment Minghao and you were nearly melded into one being beside each other, and the next he was on the opposite end of the porch, breathing as heavily as a marathon runner at the finish line.

 It took a few blinks and steady breaths of your own to disconnect from what had just almost happened and come back to reality, but when you did and saw him gasping and clawing at the air for something to grip onto, you felt a physical ache in your chest. Why did he look so scared?

 "Minghao, are you okay? What happened, what's wrong?" You were back on your feet hurrying over to him, but instead of letting you back him into the corner, Minghao hopped over the banister and landed gracefully back on the grass behind him.

 "Did I...did I do something wrong?" You asked, because that's what it fucking seemed like if he couldn't so much as bear to be within two feet of you all of a sudden. He was backing up slowly, wiping his palms against his pockets, stammering and grasping for any words to explain himself to you. You would have run off of the porch to chase after him, but you had a strange feeling that the moment you turned your back, he'd disappear.

 "No, of course not," he stressed, "you didn't do a single thing wrong. I just...I just, um...I remembered something really important and I have to leave. Now. Right now." You wanted to say that you couldn't believe it, but the pesky part of your brain that knew just how repulsive you could be to the opposite sex was singing I told you so! I told you so! You'd been trying to quiet it to control your nerves this whole time, but...well, it really had told you so.

 "Please, don't look so sad," Minghao said before you even realized you were frowning and glowing red with embarrassment and there were potentially tears building at the corner of your eye, "it was really so special to meet you here tonight, Y/N. I mean it." And with that, he was gone, bolting around the house and into the dark instead of back towards the party.

 The mocking chant in your head died down at once. There was something about Minghao, about the way he spoke. At least to you, it was clear when what he was saying was the truth or a lie. 'I remembered something really important and I have to leave right now,' was an obvious excuse for...something. But 'It was special to meet you tonight, I mean it'? You'd never heard anybody sound so honest before.

 You untied your bandana from around your head to dab away your useless tears, and felt a steely resolve settle into your chest as you walked back to your friends and remembered: Kyungwon had mentioned another party that she was meeting Mingyu at tomorrow night. Maybe Minghao would be there, and you definitely would be, too.

Fri., October 6th, 2017 @ Green Heights Residential Complex, 3:46 P.M.

 "I can't believe you're going to that party," Minkyung whined from where she was curled up on her couch, "that party that he's going to be at." You ignored her while you spooned the comfort ramen you'd rushed over to make for her into a few bowls for the two of you and Kyungwon, who was sitting on the counter speaking in hushed tones over the phone with Mingyu. The two of them couldn't go a single afternoon without drama.

 "First of all, you broke up with him, so how is he the bad guy?" You asked as you set her helping down in front of her on the coffee table. She slid down onto the floor and immediately started slurping noodles into your mouth, not bothering to thank you or answer your very reasonable question. Which was fine, that was just how you knew that she knew you were right.

 "Secondly, ex-boyfriend of yours or not, Seokmin is a decent dude. I'm not going to put him on some blacklist to avoid like the plague just because you decided you think he's gay or something," you continued. Minkyung huffed into her bowl, making the broth splatter over the rim and onto the table. Trained as you were, you reached over to wipe it up with your own napkin.

 "You should have seen him with that Soonyoung guy!" You had seen him with 'that Soonyoung guy', whom he introduced to both of you as one of his best friends. They had gotten into an argument with each other about which one of them looked more handsome in their costumes, which you hadn't even realized were a pair before you saw them together—Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy. Seokmin thought the clam shell bra accentuated Soonyoung's figure—you knew because he'd said so approximately thirty times.

 Soonyoung, for his part, gushed over how the blue latex of Seokmin's gloves really brought out the color of his brown eyes. They truly belonged together.

 "Maybe they're just good friends?" You said, "Or maybe he's bisexual? Or pan? I don't know, Minkyung, but you made an assumption and I'm not gonna judge the guy based on your crazy ideas." You were leaning more towards him having an attraction to men than not. There was something about the way he'd slapped Soonyoung's ass at one point that seemed explicitly non-platonic.

 "Last and most importantly," you concluded around a mouthful of chicken, "is that it's not his party and I'm not going for him."

 "Then why are you going? You don't even like parties, you just go there to babysit us," Kyungwon made a good point as she came back into the room with her phone tucked between her ear and her shoulder and her bowl of ramen cradled safely in her arms. She dropped down onto the couch where Minkyung had been, throwing her legs into your lap, and waited expectantly for your answer.

 You weren't going to give her one, of course, especially not with Mingyu on the phone since he and Minghao were apparently so chummy. All you could do was shrug and stuff your mouth full to avoid having to explain yourself.

 "It's because of that guy! The one who started the Thriller dance!" Minkyung was hopping around on her toes at the realization, self-pity and irritation forgotten as she remembered seeing you disappear with Minghao. Somehow it had slipped her mind until just now, since she hadn't mentioned it at all once you returned to the party after he left. Actually, that had been around the time that Soonyoung made an appearance and ruined her night.

 "What guy? Is she talking about Minghao?" You heard, just barely, from the speaker of Kyungwon's phone. The name sparked a light in her eyes that struck fear in your poor old heart. With reflexes you didn't even know you had, you managed to safely put your bowl down before flinging yourself on top of your friend, grabbing her phone, punching the red button that you knew would end her call, and throwing it behind you somewhere, anywhere away from her.

 "Oh, my god," she didn't even care that you'd done all of that, and that was how you knew you were really in for it, "you're into Xu Minghao."

 "Wait, the Chinese exchange guy? The astronomy major? That's who you were with last night?" It was unfair the way all those tidbits of information slapped you in the face and rendered you unable to make a hasty retreat while they all three were filed away in your brain. So far you knew all of this about Minghao: His last name was Xu, he was an astronomy major, he was from China, he could dance, and he talked funny. It didn't seem like enough to make your heart race the way it did any time you thought of that giggle or the feeling of his nose running along your collarbone.

 "She was with him!? When!? What were they doing!?" The conversation went on around you, Minkyung explaining Minghao seeking your approval of his dance, the way you ran off together, and...the way you came back alone not too long later, and Minghao wasn't spotted again for the rest of the night.

 "What was that all about?" She asked, settling down at the edge of the table in front of you and going into concerned guardian mode. It was rare that she did, and it always made you super uncomfortable to see her eyebrows knitted together that way and the worried frown against her cheeks.

 "He ran off," you relented, "we were about to kiss and then, he just...I don't know. He got spooked and left." Minkyung sighed, taking your hand in hers and hooking an arm around your neck to bring you into a hug. Her cooing and awwing like you were a child was kind of annoying, but you appreciated that she cared about something that happened to you for once instead of all her own made up problems.

 In contrast, Kyungwon laughed.

 "So you're going to the party to show him what he missed out on," she decided, and you would have told her how dead-wrong she was, but your face was smooshed against Minkyung's chest and you couldn't get a word out, "I have just the costume for you to wear. He'll regret bailing on you like that."

Fri., October 6th, 2017 @ Delta Omega Delta House, 8:59 P.M.

 As expected, you felt fucking ridiculous. Ridiculous, exposed, embarrassed, angry at Kyungwon (as always), angry at Minghao for starting all of this, angry at the world for letting Britney Spears' "...Baby One More Time" happen in the first place. You'd walked into this building less than five minutes ago and already two guys had tugged on your pigtails, one of them had grabbed your ass beneath your tiny black skirt, and the wolf whistles were getting out of hand. Tonight you hated your life.

 At least the guy who grabbed your ass had been shoved up against the wall and threatened by Mingyu. If you had to walk around a frat party like this, you were glad to have a big guy there to back you up, even though you were pretty sure he'd never actually hurt anybody. Maybe he'd punch someone for you if he had to, but he'd definitely cry about it afterwards.

 "You look hot," Kyungwon said, "stop frowning like that." It was physically impossible for you to smile at a time like this, when it felt like everyone's eyes were on you judging the way you pudged out of the cropped white button-up knotted together just beneath your chest and the way you stumbled in the patent black pumps you'd been forced into. It kind of felt like you'd be telling your therapist about this night years from now, recalling the way all of your anxieties and fears had culminated in those one awful moment.

 "Y/N?" And then, like a sun ray in the dark, Minghao was in front of you to make everything okay. You were frozen a few feet away from him, but Kyungwon assisted you with a violent shove from behind until you were tumbling into his arms. He scanned your face with hard eyes, taking immediate notice of your shallow breaths and the way your own eyes were glossed over. Twice in as many nights now that you'd almost cried in front of him—how humiliating.

 Once he'd finished his assessment, he immediately righted you and brought you into the kitchen, out of the spotlight. There were still plenty of people there to gawk at you, but significantly less of them. Minghao grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge, then ushered you into the corner of the counter so that he could stand in front of you and shield you from your audience.

 "Breathe, love," he instructed you, "deep, steady breaths. Don't be frightened." He was petting your hair back out of your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands after he handed you the bottle of water. You held it to your chest, and it was freezing to the touch but at least you could focus on that instead of the black closing in around your eyes. With the guidance of Minghao's gentle touches and his firm voice, you were anchored back to reality and found your way out of the fog of panic.

 "Take a drink," he suggested, and you gulped down half the bottle. The whirring in your ears died down to become the bass of whatever song was playing in the background, the dull roar of party-goers’ conversations happening all around you. You realized no one was looking at you anymore, and it occurred to you that most of the stares had probably been because you were having an anxiety attack in the middle of a frat party—you felt so stupid.

 Minghao was having none of that—"You're not stupid," he said, "you were just scared, but it's over now. I've got you." Had you said that out loud? You must have. You relaxed with his words. Another thing to add to the list of things that you knew about Xu Minghao: he was the calm in the storm.

 As reassured as you felt, a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you as it sunk in: you'd just almost had an anxiety attack. In the middle of a frat party. In front of Minghao. And he had to ease you out of it...so much for looking sexy and making him regret leaving you alone last night.

 The suffocating feeling that you were going to die was gone, only to be replaced by mortification. It was like when Minkyung comforted you, but so much worse—it only happened because you were so weak and pitiful. But at least the shame wasn't debilitating, and you were able to squeeze out of the tiny space Minghao had put you in and get away from him.

 "Uh," you started, with no idea what you wanted to say, making it up as you went, "thanks. For that. I should...I should go." There was a part of you that hoped Minghao felt like you had felt when he abandoned you last night, and then there was the larger part of you that figured he was relieved he wouldn't have to handle a girl on the verge of a mental breakdown for the rest of the night and could just enjoy the party. The look on his face as you walked away didn't give away which of those inclinations were true.

 "I'll walk you to the door," was all he said, and he did just that. Mingyu perked up when he saw the two of you come out of the kitchen together, pointing you out to Kyungwon, but she recognized the look on your face and felt her heart sink. The couple was coming up behind you as Minghao opened the door to let you out, and Mingyu was complaining about having to leave already before Kyungwon elbowed him in the gut to shut him up.

 "Get home, then," Minghao sighed against your forehead when he leaned down to press a gentle kiss there, "sleep well." You didn't say thank you, you didn't say goodbye, you just turned on your heel and rushed down the steps towards Mingyu's car so that Minghao wouldn't see you start to cry.

 Why were you crying now? You couldn't decide if it was because you'd blown it with Minghao or because you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone at the party or because your feet fucking hurt in these shoes. Maybe it was because it'd been a long time since someone was that sweet to you, but he didn't even ask you to stay. He seemed pretty eager to get you out the door.

 Mingyu didn't say anything when you were dropped off outside of your apartment building, letting Kyungwon do all the talking. She wouldn’t stop apologizing for putting you in that situation and making you uncomfortable, and that only made you feel worse. You were just about to wave her off so they could get back to the party, climb up into your apartment and stew in your self-pity, when she added, "But he's totally into you, you know that, right? Oh my God, that look on his face when he first saw you."

 You hated her. You hated her so, so much for making you hopeful. You hated her for reminding you that there was another party the next night. You hated her for telling you she had an idea for a different costume—something cute, not alienating and crippling like this one. You hated her for making you promise that you'd be there for her to pick you up at 6 so that you could get ready with her tomorrow. You hated her.

Sat., October 7th, 2017 @ Club Nebula, 10:07 P.M.

 "I don't think he's here," you said, again, for the thousandth time. Minkyung glared at you over her shoulder, then turned around fully to fix the cat ears tucked into your hair when she noticed they were askew.

 "I know he's here, Y/N," Kyungwon said from ahead of you both, "Mingyu came here with him." It was a wonder you could hear her over the mix-up of "Despacito" and "Ghostbusters" blaring through the packed little club, but when you did you could only wonder why she didn't text and ask where he was, then. The three of you had been wandering around looking for them for the past half hour. Admittedly, you'd stopped to get drinks and dance a few times, if the music moved you.

 You were back to your normal self—you couldn't for the life of you understand what the fuck had happened last night. Realistically, you knew there was no reason for you to overreact like that. Your brain was just doing it's own thing, as usual.

 In your little black babydoll dress, cat ears, lace choker with the bell, and whiskers and pretty pink nose painted onto your face, you felt much more relaxed. Although your hope that he was even there was dwindling, you hoped you could fix whatever it was you had with Minghao. You'd promise that you didn't normally freak out like you had, because you didn't. You were always the one who had to be cool under pressure. And in this fantasy, he'd accept that as fact. He wouldn't bail and the two of you would bone tonight.

 A girl could dream.

 "Oh, there's Mingyu!" There he was indeed—it was a wonder you hadn't been able to find him this whole time with the way his head on top of his freakishly tall body stuck out above the crowd. You made your over to him at a booth in the corner, where he was stationed with some of your other friends. There was Hansol and Eunwoo wrapped up in each other, and Nayeon thrown across Jeonghan's lap, but no Minghao in sight.

 There was, however, a very pale Seokmin whose wide-eyed gaze was stuck on Minkyung. She hadn't noticed him yet, as she poked Mingyu in the chest and demanded to know where his Chinese friend was.

 "I dunno, I told him you guys were here and he went to dance," Mingyu shrugged, but sent a sympathetic look over her shoulder at you. You looked away, redirecting your gaze back to the mass of bodies you'd just powered your way through. "The Monster Mash" was playing—now that you thought about it, it had been playing when you got to the party last night, too. A third time around, you didn't enjoy it any more than before.

 "I'll go find him," you told Kyungwon, putting your brave face on, and reentering the swarm of sweaty, smelly ghosts and Pennywises and slutty nurses and Donald Trumps. You encountered plenty of cats along the way, too, but no "...Baby One More Time" era Britney Spears costumes. There weren't any Rosie the Riveters, either.

 "Here, k-kitty kitty," you heard at the same time as you felt someone tug on the tail that Kyungwon had stuck onto your skirt. You would have slapped him, or at the very least smacked his hand away—but when you saw the guy, you just felt bad for him. He wasn't bad looking at all, but he was wearing a bright yellow sweater, dark denim overalls, and a yellow beanie with blue goggles glued onto it. The poor son of a bitch was dressed as a minion.

 "Wanna dance?" He was also very, very drunk, stumbling on his feet, nearly ending up on the floor a few times in just the thirty seconds you'd been watching him. You grabbed the beer out of his hand and chucked it into a nearby trash can, then got an arm around his shoulders to take him over to sit.

 "What's your name, dude?" You asked once you'd gotten him out of the crowd, and through a boxy smile he told you, "I-I'm...hic...Kim Tae-Taehyung." Taehyung flopped down into the chair you found for him, then made grabby hands at you as you backed away from him.

 "Nooo, stay with me," he begged, but your sights were already back on the club's horizon, scanning for that familiar head of bleach blonde hair.

 "Stay right here until one of your friends finds you, alright? No more beer," you told him, "promise no more beer and I'll give you my number." He slurred out the promise faster than any normal drunk person should have been able to speak, and you rewarded him with a fake number scribbled down onto the palm of his hand. He was cute, but he was a mess. Not to mention you had already accidentally fallen head-over-heels for some other guy you barely knew. There was no time or space or energy in you for Kim Taehyung.

 It was only two steps back into the masses before you saw it. She was sitting at the bar with her pretty caramel-colored hair curled out of her face, her pom-poms forgotten on the counter top beside her drink, her tiny cheer skirt spread across legs split for Minghao to nestle himself in between. You could tell it was him thanks to the black cape hanging off his shoulders and the velvet vest and the telltale blonde hair—not because you could see his face.

 No, his face was buried in the crook of her neck doing God know's what to get her making that expression, eyes screwed shut and jaw hanging slack and all. You looked away before you could decide whether he was kissing or licking or biting, before you could see exactly where his hands were. Bile bubbled up in your throat, tasting like the buttery nipple you'd thrown back with the girls when you first got here.

 The girls. Kyungwon. You would end her. You desperately wished she had never brought you here, had never given you false hope. You wished that you could go back in time and stay curled up in your bed feeling sorry for yourself instead of getting all dolled up again and making the drive downtown.

 "I'll take you up on that dance, actually," you blurted out as you stalked back over to Taehyung, because fuck Minghao. Okay, so he wasn't your boyfriend. He wasn't even your friend, really. But what gave him the right to go fooling around with other girls when he didn't even know you were there and had no accountability towards you? What a piece of shit.

 So you danced with Taehyung, who miraculously managed to stay on his feet the whole time, and tried very hard to ignore the fact that he was dressed up as a minion. At some point, you "accidentally" knocked the yellow goggled beanie off of his head, which made it a little bit easier. And he was a good dancer, even if he couldn't keep his mouth shut for a full sixty seconds.

 "I was...was ssseven-years-old when my h-hamster escaped and...and got eaten by a ssstray c-cat," he informed you as he ground his dick against your ass, "that was the day I...hic...I truly learned about life 'nd death." You nodded if only so that he wouldn't ask ten times in a row if you were actually listening to him, as you'd learned he would do without any acknowledgement.

 "That's great, Taehyung," you monotoned at him, turning to wrap your arms around his neck and grind against his front. He could barely talk, but the guy could body roll like a pro. Over his shoulder, you saw that Minghao and his mystery girl were long gone. It had been over a dozen songs since you and Taehyung started dancing, after all. Apparently that girl was worth taking home, you snarked instead of letting yourself feel self-conscious about it.

 Of course, it wasn't just that simple to not feel self-conscious about it. What did she have that you didn't? Well, perfect hair, for one. And probably decent mental health, for another. Only a girl with decent mental health could have hair that well-styled and maintained.

 "Hey," you leaned forward to say close to Taehyung so that he could actually hear you, interrupting his story about the day his sister got his first period and he learned about womanhood or something, "can we kiss now?" You figured it would distract you, and drunk or not, with a face as pretty as his, you figured Taehyung had to be a good kisser.

 He didn't need to be asked twice, he barely even needed a moment to register the question before he attached his lips to yours. They were soft, that was for sure, if a little chapped. And his kiss was kind of...slimy. Then again, it had been awhile since you properly kissed somebody, so maybe you'd forgotten exactly what a kiss was supposed to feel like (you didn't think so, but you were willing to give Taehyung the benefit of the doubt).

 But it just felt wrong. Kissing anybody but Minghao felt like a betrayal to your own heart, which was screaming at you to leave this club and find that asshole wherever he was and hand over the lips that were rightfully his.

 Your brain rebelled at the thought—your lips weren't Minghao's. Your heart wasn't Minghao's, your soul wasn't Minghao's. He was some guy that you'd literally met barely 48 hours ago and there was absolutely no reason you should feel so hopelessly attached to him.

 So you kissed Taehyung harder and tried to forget about everything else. Maybe if you cocked your head just so, teased a little tongue, ran your fingers through his hair, this would feel halfway nice? Maybe you could let him consume you and make the world melt away the way that Minghao had when he was barely even touching you?

 "You taste like...salmon," Taehyung informed you the moment you had to break away for air, and yeah, this just wasn't gonna work. One grumbled curse under your breath and Uber request later, the two of you were spread out in the back of a Prius desperately trying not to throw up on this poor guy's floor. He kept nervously glancing at you in his rear view mirror, ready to pull over and drag you out of his car at less than a moment's notice.

 "You're a nice guy, Taehyung," you told him as he leaned against your shoulder, every once in a while letting his eyelashes flutter in an attempt to stay awake, "and you're really hot. Sorry I'm just not into you like that."

 "H-Hey, there's...there's a back road up there onnn...the left. It'll make the...hic...the drive like five minutes shorter," Taehyung said to the driver. You were substantially less drunk than he was, and figured you should get him home safe and sound before you, "and as for...as for you. Th-That's...okay. 'm not sssuper into g-girls...hic...a-anyways."

 You didn't feel guilty leaving him dumped out on his driveway after that. To be fair, you didn't take off until you'd pounded on the door enough to wake up his roommate to let him know Taehyung was there, and you left him your real number. He really was a good guy. You figured he'd make a pretty good friend after you tore him a new asshole for fucking around with girls heads like that.

 Not that you were any better using him to try and distract yourself from Minghao but...he didn't ever have to know about that.

[1:03 A.M.] Unknown: heu

[1:03 A.M.] Unknown: heu?

[1:03 A.M.] Unknown: heu heu heu. Y/N

[1:04 A.M.] You: stop texting me taehyung

[1:04 A.M.] Dumbass: jsut wanted too say thhnaks

[1:06 A.M.] Dumbass: heu................................................who ws that gyu u kTOE starring st........................teh one at the b ar......wsa he ur ex r sehtm,thin...............is taht wyh you sa id u wr;ent into em

 Shutting your phone off was almost cathartic. With the go-ahead from your driver, you rolled your windows down and smelled the garbage piled up underneath the highway and even this shitty moment was better than any moment back at the club or any moment you might have spent explaining who Minghao was to Taehyung.

 You decided you would forget the last few days ever happened. The dumb lace choker, well that was Kyungwon's, so you dropped it into your purse after you unlatched it from around your neck. When you did that, you saw the wet naps littered at the bottom of your bag, and used those to wipe off the ridiculous whiskers and nose painted across your face. The annoying ears and tail, well those you'd bought at the dollar store today for two bucks and change. With absolutely no concern for the world around you, you flung them both out the window (you'd feel bad about that later).

 Clearly, the last three nights had been some sort of glitch in your timeline. All you had to do to right the world's axis was return to your normal routine tomorrow morning and convince your friends to let all of this Minghao nonsense go—easy enough. Back to being the bad ass single bitch it was, then.

Thurs., October 12th, 2017 @ the corner of South and Porter, 8:26 P.M.

 "Get out of my car," Taehyung repeated himself for the eighth time (you were counting). Said car was off, and you were tucked comfortably into the passenger's seat. Taehyung had already gotten out and was leaned in where you'd left the window wide open on your side, thinking of all the ways that he could kill you right now...there were probably a dozen ways he could end it with nothing but the keys in his hands and some patience.

 You'd deserve it. When he asked you to meet up for coffee a couple of days after your failed make out at the club, he probably hadn't expected for the sad single girl to latch onto him like you had. What could you say—you were going through a strange time in your life. You'd never felt quite this way before, so torn up over a guy for no particular reason.

 And Taehyung, bless him, was kind enough to go on with whatever you needed at any given moment. Sunday morning you'd told him that you wanted to put everything Minghao-related of the weekend far behind you and move on, and after forcing a thorough explanation out of you, he was on board. When you sent an early morning text on Monday recanting all of your previous statements about forgetting Minghao, he was fine with that, too.

 He'd never known someone who could change their mind as many times and as quickly as you did, though, and keeping up with whether or not he had to be pro or anti-Minghao at any given moment was proving to be difficult. Just a half hour ago when he picked you up to bring you to this party, you'd been deadset on finding Minghao and hashing things out with him, but now you'd anchored yourself to his passengers seat and currently stood at never wanting to see Minghao's beautiful stupid face every again.

 At least that's what he thought you were trying to convey to him with your wild hand gestures and angry groans behind lips sealed tight. If he'd known you were planning on dressing up as a mime (so that you'd have an excuse not to talk to Minghao if and when you changed your mind about wanting to hash things out!), he never would have agreed to come along with you.

 He had no other choice than to put the muscles that Jungkook—one of his roommates, you'd learned—had cultivated in his arms and legs to good use dragging you out of the car by force. Because he was Taehyung, he was especially careful not to scratch you against the metal or bump your head on the door as he did so. This friend you'd known for less than a week was so much nicer to you than the ones you'd known for years.

 Momo and Mina were jealous of him already, mostly because they lived in your fucking head and just knew there was something Taehyung knew about you that they didn't. That's why they'd suggested you bring him along. Unbeknownst to either of you, he was soon to get the third degree from the most aggressive of lesbian power couples.

 But for now things were relatively pleasant. Taehyung liked skinship, apparently, and was happy to platonically hold your hand as the two of you approached the house—Jackson Wang's place, you were pretty sure. You didn't know him that well, he was a friend of a friend of a friend of Momo's, but you did know that he was a nice guy who everybody liked and who liked everybody right back, so you weren't worried about showing up uninvited to his party.

 Evidently Taehyung was also really good at forgiving and forgetting, since the car hostage incident from less than two whole minutes ago was already far from his mind. "Jackson's a Chinese exchange student, too, so Minghao will definitely be here," he told you, "ready for that?"

 You sent him a thumbs-up just as the door swung open and the man, the myth, the legend Jackson Wang himself, welcomed you inside. For being someone so well-liked, the obnoxious stripper cop costume he had on really caught you off-guard, but at least he had the pecs and the abs to back it up.

 "Make yourself at home, guys," he said without even getting your names, already half-swallowed whole by the horde of dancers in his living room again, "please don't fuck in my bed, though."

 Jackson was already gone, but just for you, Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows and purred, "I can't make any promises."

 Of all four things to do—get a drink, start dancing, head outside to smoke, or get in line for the beer pong tournament going on in the basement—Taehyung chose beer pong. "The Monster Mash" started in the living room just as you closed the door to the basement behind you and you thanked God for the dodged bullet. Once this Hell month was over, you'd do everything in your power to make sure you never heard that song again.

 There were way too many people shoved into the room and too few of them that you knew, so you stayed glued to Taehyung's side as he waited. When he asked if you were going to be his partner, you shook your head frantically—there was absolutely no way that was happening. And when he asked why, you demonstrated 'why' for him by grabbing a beer cap off the floor and trying to throw it into the trash can that was barely three feet away. It was unnatural the way it flew right out of your hand and backwards, hitting whoever was standing behind you in the face.

 You turned around with every intention of apologizing, truly, but as luck would have it your latest victim was none other than Minghao, rubbing the tip of his nose gently over the saddest pout on his lips. Mingyu was bent down next to him, picking up the bottle cap and looking up with venomous rage.

 "Why would you throw this at---oh! Y/N! What's up what are you doing here? Who's this?" Rather than let you answer any of his questions, Mingyu held out a hand to introduce himself to Taehyung. You hadn't known Taehyung very long, but you'd already learned enough about him to know that he was somebody who instantly became everybody's best friend. Mingyu liked him immediately, you could tell by the bro-hug.

 "Wait, do you live with Jungkook?" Taehyung's eyes lit up at the mention of his roommate, one who he had spent hours gassing up to you already in the less than a week you'd been friends, and he replied, "Yeah! He's one of my best friends!" Up to that point you'd kept yourself focused on Mingyu and Taehyung, pointedly ignoring Minghao who didn't bother saying anything to you, either, but it was kind of hard to keep ignoring him when Mingyu brought him directly into the conversation.

 "Minghao! Taehyung lives with Jungkook! You just hung out with him yesterday, didn't you? Playing games at that internet cafe," Mingyu nudged his friend to speak up, and the word slithered out of Minghao's mouth much more quietly and with much less enthusiasm than Mingyu had,

 "Yes." That was all he said, too. The other boys waited a beat longer for him to expand upon that, but Minghao stared back at them blankly until they continued their conversation without him. For what it was worth, Taehyung squeezed your hand that he was still holding as acknowledgement after hearing Minghao's name. You squeezed back to confirm—yes, this quiet, weird, handsome guy dressed up as a vampire was the Minghao.

 "Hey lovebirds, you're up," someone announced as they tapped your shoulder, and Taehyung finally let go of you and wrapped up with Mingyu so that he could turn to the group amassed to watch and ask who would be his partner. Some guy with blue hair stumbled forward, "I'm only doing this because I can't find anymore beer in the kitchen," and the round began.

 The new guy's name was Yoongi. He didn't offer that up on his own, no, Taehyung had to squeeze it out of him, and after that he didn't say much. The two guys on the opposite end of the table, who'd won their past four games, were apparently named Yugyeom and 'BamBam.' They easily got their first ball in, and Yoongi was happy to drink the first half cup of beer. When it was their turn and Taehyung stepped up to take the shot, Yoongi grabbed his wrist before he could.

 "I was a basketball player in high school," he said coolly, "watch how it's done." It would have been funny if it wasn't so sad—Yoongi bent his knees to crouch down eye-level with the cups, lifted his hand to toss it towards the middle of the table, obviously going for a bounce shot...but the ball just fell once and rolled away. There were few times you'd ever seen a man look so devastated in your life.

 "It's okay, Yoongs! We'll get it next time!" Taehyung encouraged him.

 "Call me 'Yoongs' again and I'll rip your balls off," Yoongi warned.

 "So Y/N," Mingyu popped up beside you as the game went on, "how do you know Taehyung?" You narrowed your eyes at him, thinking for a moment on his motives. He was Kyungwon's boyfriend and he knew that you had a weird thing going on with Minghao, but Minghao was one of his friends. Whose side was he on? And then you were mentally backtracking because there weren't sides, of course. No one had done anything wrong, you, least of all.

 Relief flushed over you as you remembered—your costume. You were a mime. You didn't have to say anything. With an exaggerated sweep of your arm, you directed Mingyu's attention to your outfit. He might have recognized the black-and-white striped top as his girlfriend's, and the suspenders holding up your black jeans were Momo's. Mina had offered up the black beret on your head and done your makeup, too.

 "Okay, so you're not gonna talk," Mingyu deduced, "have you known him a long time?" You shook your head. "Weeks or months?" You shook your head. "Days?" Nod. Behind Mingyu, you heard Minghao scoff and tried to temper the simmering ire in your belly at the audacity.

 "Wait—is he the minion you went home with?" You wiggled your eyebrows at him in a poor imitation of the way Taehyung had earlier. When he did it, it was funny, obviously a joke. When you did it, it just seemed creepy.

 "Excuse me? And when was this?" Minghao elbowed himself in front of Mingyu to ask, and Mingyu was shoving Minghao back to the side demanding to know, "Did you sleep with him? Is he even straight?" As it was, whether or not you slept with Taehyung and whenever it might have happened was none of their business. You shrugged and pulled your fingers across the seam of your lips to indicate zipping them closed.

 "I won't play this game, Y/N," Minghao scolded you like your father would have, "what evening did you go home with this 'Taehyung' and—" Before he could complete his intrusive question, two groans rang out in harmony across the pong table and Taehyung was screaming at the top of his lungs, jumping up and down in place. Even Yoongi was smirking some, watching Yugyeom pluck a ball out from one of their cups and chugging the lukewarm beer.

 Which was kind of gross. You were doubly glad you hadn’t played if these neanderthals were going to play the rules so literally.

 "Y/N! Did you see that!" Taehyung cried, whirling around to face you, and when you held out a hand for a high five, he scooped you into a hug, instead. You could feel the heat of Minghao's stare on your back.

 "Don't look now," Taehyung whispered into your ear, "but I think lover boy is about to combust. Wanna give him a show?" The next fifteen minutes went exactly according to your unspoken plan: once Taehyung made the first strike, he and Yoongi crushed the other team. Every time Taehyung landed a shot, after you'd properly overdone your applause, he would demand another hug or a kiss on the cheek, and every time you got close enough to him, he would explain how much angrier Minghao looked.

 When Yugyeom and Bambam had one cup left, Taehyung beckoned you closer before he made his final shot. "I want a kiss for good luck," he pouted, but when you went to give him another kiss on the cheek, he leaned away.

 "Nope, that's not what I meant," he giggled. Any one of the other girls in this room would have jumped at the chance to lay one on Kim Taehyung right now—you could see some of them tense, watching closely, at the ready in case you denied his request. They would get that opportunity, you thought, because you'd have to tell him no. The only other option was to kiss him and feel your own heart and brain fighting against you the whole time.

 Not to mention, you could physically feel Minghao's warring emotions behind you as if they were your own. It was a dubious mix of wrath, shame, hurt. Whether he had any sort of romantic interest in you or not, it was upsetting to watch you show off with Taehyung in front of him. He wasn't stupid. He knew that you were doing this to get back at him, he just didn't know exactly what for.

 You opened your mouth to speak your first word of the night, a firm "No," but then Taehyung was pressing the tiny plastic ball in his fingers against your lips. "I meant for the ball, dumbie," he laughed, making a quick save. At ease, you gave the ball a peck and stepped back to give Taehyung room.

 The room was silent as he came to the edge of the table, closed one eye and bit his lip in deep concentration—but you only heard the cheers from halfway up the stairs as you were dragged out of there. You were presented with the sight of a half-naked Jackson leading a conga line when Minghao threw the basement door open, and it was going right by, closing you in between the door and Minghao's back.

 You tapped his shoulder once, twice, three times, over and over and over again waiting for him to turn and explain himself to you, but he was just as silent as you'd been all night. You knew...you knew that you should have felt the anger, the indignation. And you could sense it coming from Minghao, but as you pressed your head against his shoulder blade and breathed in his scent—earthy, but scorched like firewood—any thoughts of revenge and resentment were silenced. Your heart was calm.

 Finally the conga line passed, and more slowly, you followed Minghao out into the backyard where it was quiet. A few party-goers were passing around a blunt by a bonfire further out, but you and Minghao just settled down onto the steps. You watched him closely, watched the way he flexed his fingers against each other and worried his brow, searching for the right words to express whatever it was he wanted to tell you. When he couldn't come up with anything, he let out the breath he'd been holding all night, shrugged, and leaned back against the wall. Defeated.

 "You don't have to be jealous," you spoke for the first time, and Minghao looked over at you with large disbelieving eyes, "Taehyung's mostly gay." Another moment of silence passed as you watched Minghao process this information. He open and closed his mouth a few times, as if he was answering his own questions in his head before he could ask them of you.

 "We didn't sleep together, either," you filled in the blanks, and finally watched the tension flush out of his body with the way his shoulders dropped and his forehead smoothed. There it was again—that giggle that made your heart thump harder against your ribcage. Seven days since you'd heard that giggle were seven days too long.

 "I wasn't jealous," Minghao lied after he cleared his throat and fixed his expression back into something blank and unreadable, "there's nothing to be jealous of. You aren't my beloved, nor am I yours." But you are. I wish I was. You couldn’t bring yourself to say as much.

 Still. Here Minghao was at your side, talking to you, not running away or encouraging distance between the two of you. He was smiling and he didn't move when you leaned your head against his shoulder.

 Tonight, this was enough.

Fri., October 13th, 2017 @ A Big Rock in the Middle of Woods, 11 P.M.

 You liked to drink, of course. Liquor was just so good at taking the edge off or helping ease the stress of a bad day. That being said, you didn't make a habit out of getting drunk, not anymore at least. A few times blacking out and waking up in a puddle of your own puke on the floor had turned you off to that long before you turned 21.

 What made tonight any different you weren't sure, but that party back there had been so boring. Momo and Mina tried to convince you not to go, and you knew that none of your friends would be there, but you'd still held out hope that Minghao would make an appearance. You'd even felt particularly good about your costume—a dark red top that you'd yellow-duck-taped the Wonder Woman logo onto the chest of, a gold belt around your navy skirt to match the gold headband holding your hair back. You'd gone so far as to dig some silver star stickers from the bottom of a desk drawer to slap all over your skirt. You knew that you looked cute, and you wanted Minghao to know it, too.

 He hadn't shown up. So you drowned out your rising anxieties about being at this party alone and the chance that maybe last night was your last night, maybe he had pulled off his greatest disappearance, maybe you'd never see him again—with some rum and cokes. And there was a lot more rum than coke in your cup at all times, and no one to stop you from drinking it.

 You had no idea when or how you'd wandered into these woods, either. A very fuzzy memory of walking outside and seeing them across the street from the sorority house hung around at the edge of your thoughts but never cleared up well enough for you to remember why you'd gone into them. What you could remember very clearly, though, was putting your phone behind a fish tank inside because you didn't have any pockets and you wanted to dance...but never picking it back up.

 Now all you could do was sit on this big rock until you sobered up or the sun rose and hope you didn't die. You weren't sure if it was lucky or very unfortunate that you were too inebriated to be properly scared, too. Sure, the fear was there, but subdued behind the sick beat you could hear in your head that made you just want to fucking dance. Then again, that beat might have been the pulsing of a killer headache building slowly.

 The only thing that really bothered you was that you were cold. It was dark and predators could be lurking in any direction, but you just wanted a jacket. You wanted a jacket so bad that you were worried you might start crying again. You really didn't want to cry. You'd cried too much in the past week.

 "You have such a way of getting yourself into trouble, silly girl," and even though your drunk brain was just imagining it, his voice warmed you from the inside out. Like a true crazy person, you replied out loud to Imaginary Minghao, "I like you...lot. You...'re...so nice. Ssso...warm."

 "I like you a lot, too, darling," you imagined he'd say, "now hop up and let me lead the way out of here." There was no explaining how you found your way back to the road after that, or the car that was conveniently waiting to drive you home when you did, or how your phone was waiting on your bedside table in the morning even though you were absolutely certain you'd never set foot back in the sorority house. It woke you up playing "The Monster Mash."

 You chalked it up to a lot of good fortune, and thought that maybe you'd had your phone on you all along. But the warmth settled into your chest all day—that couldn't be explained. Maybe Minghao wasn't as far away as you thought.

Sat., October 14th, 2017 @ Abandoned K-Mart Parking Lot, 9:53 P.M.

 "There's nothing for us to run into out here," Nayoung sighed in relief as she climbed out of the back of Seungcheol's truck, slipping her trusty sunglasses on to once again complete the Three Blind Mice outfit. Kyungwon and Minkyung came out after her, but neither was giving up hold on the walking stick they were fighting over.

 "There are parking blocks, actually," you pointed out, "bright yellow. Hard to trip over unless you're some asshole wearing sunglasses in the dark." Kyungwon got the upper hand just in time to raise the walking stick to hit you again, but Minkyung grabbed her arm to stop her. You heard a small "Remember what happened last time," and felt proud of the fear you instilled in their little hearts. That was how they'd ended up having to fight over just one of them, anyways.

 "And you're not an asshole for carrying around an umbrella when it hasn't rained in like a month?"

 "It's part of the costume," you held up your finger to shut her up before she could argue that the sunglasses and walking stick were just a part of her costume, as well, "and it's not ableist. Everybody uses umbrellas, bitch." Your umbrella was in service of being Mary Poppins—you'd had everything you needed for it in your own closet this time, too. A derby hat that you pinned big fake flowers too, the same white button-up that had once been part of the tragic Britney Spears costume, a red bow tie, a pleated black skirt, tights, and black kitten heels. It was a wholesome costume, and that was all you could ask for after some of the others you'd experienced so far this month.

 "He did the mash! He did the mooonster mash..." you heard playing in the distance. You were ready for Halloween to be over at this point.

 It wasn't in the best interest of your sanity, but the six of you—Jihyo and Mingyu included—made your way across the parking lot to the crowd of people closer to the abandoned store building. There were lights put up there, and on the roof, someone was setting up a few cameras, one in the middle and two at either corner. Momo and Mina were the ones fretting over the stereo, and didn't even notice you come up behind them until you snapped the bottom of their black leotards against their thighs.

 "Y/N! You actually came!" Mina gushed, throwing her arms around you in a hurried hug while Momo stayed focused on the music. "I can't really talk right now. Minghao's around somewhere, though," and she winked. There was a tick of frustration in your head but you snuffed it out for now instead of pulling your phone out to text a bunch of angry face emojis and red sirens and exclamation points at Taehyung. It wasn't entirely his fault that he'd succumbed to their charms and given in during their interrogation—the two of them were very hard to say no to.

 That was part of how you'd wound up here, at the site of their impromptu flash mob-esque dance party (inspired by Minghao’s little “Thriller” stunt at the party at The Yard.) They'd been begging you for days to take part in it, and after inevitably breaking you down, Momo had delighted in teaching you the dance they put together. It brought her a special sort of joy to see just how bad you were at the thing she did best.

 The other reason you were here, of course, was because you knew that Minghao would show up. How could he pass on the chance to take part in some more mass synchronized choreography? Mina pointed somewhere behind you before getting back to work, and sure enough, in that direction you could see Minghao with his friends. As if on cue, he looked up and locked eyes with you.

 It was a certain magnetism that brought you all the way across the parking lot, through the crowd, and straight to him. "Y/N, love," he cooed as soon as you were in earshot, "I'm so happy that you came." There was a burst of panic as you realized that you were surrounded by all of his friends and were about to be subject to their scrutiny, but as was becoming routine, Minghao took your hand in his and you felt immediately calmed.

 "My friends are going to love you," Minghao said as he pulled you closer to them, "don't be nervous. Even if they don't, I'll make them." It was a promise to you and a secret threat towards them all at once, and you had no idea what he meant by that but you'd take it. One of his friends you recognized—the kid who started the Thriller dance with him. Minghao reminded you that his name was Chan before he came up behind him and kicked him right in the ass to get his attention.

 "Hey, kid," he barked, "this is Y/N. Be nice." The first thing you noticed about Chan was that he was kind of short, and you remembered your immediate thought back at that first party that he must have been a freshman. The light in his eyes, the grasp he had on his will to live, reinforced that theory. It was impossible to look that alive after one full college semester.

 "Y/N! Wow, I feel like I already know you. 'Hao hyung has talked about you so much and it's only been a couple of weeks. You are pretty," Chan immediately overshared, and then you got to watch him turn the cutest shade of pink and slap his hand over his mouth. Minghao, on the cooler side tonight, just rolled his eyes at him.

 "Thanks, kid. You're pretty cute yourself," you told him. Chan only turned pinker. From behind him another guy jogged up, this one you didn't know, but he was almost as inhumanly beautiful as Minghao. He beamed down at you as he introduced himself,

 "Y/N, I'm Jun. I'm Minghao's best friend." The accent gave him away, so much like Minghao's. He must have been one of his Chinese exchange friends. If he really was Minghao's best friend, you wanted to impress him, so you dug around deep into the dustiest recesses of your brain so that you could say,

 "Nǐ hǎo, hěn gāoxìng rènshì nǐ."

 Jun laughed. You weren't sure if your feelings should be hurt or you should feel victorious for getting some sort of positive reaction out of him. It had been years since you had taken a semester of Chinese Language, so of course your accent was a little rusty, but you didn't think you sounded that bad.

 "No, don't look so sad!" Jun said, reaching forward to push the corners of your lips back up into a neutral state. If it was any other stranger there was no way they were getting their hands on you, but again—he was Minghao's best friend. You needed him to like you.

 And Minghao, this wonderful lovely perfect boy you'd found, he pushed Jun's hands away for you. "No touching," he deadpanned. The way Minghao said it, it wasn't a joke. It was a rule. Jun raised them up in surrender, taking a full two steps back to put some room between you and himself.

 "Soonyoungie's helping some of the kids over there," Jun cocked his head to the left, at a few of the boys in their group clumped up together to the side. Minghao gave him a short nod, a terse look that you couldn't exactly read—just something to get across that they were going to have a very serious talk later and Jun was probably going to come out of it grievously maimed.

 "I'm sorry about him," Minghao said quietly as you walked towards his other friend, "He's normally alright. Has no couth, though. Too forward." For the first time since you'd met (not that it'd been long since then), Minghao looked...embarrassed. His lips were pursed, pulled tight at the edges, and the tips of his ears were red. God, he was so cute.

 "It's okay. He's not that bad," and you meant it. You hadn't gotten enough out of him to make an appropriate judgement call, but he couldn't possibly be any more annoying than your own friends. You already dreaded the day that you had to properly introduce him to them. Momo and Mina would tear him apart. Minkyung and Kyungwon would probably call him "dad."

 "Well there's only one more of them you have to meet," Minghao told you, "but he's...a lively one. Unique. Always starting little slapstick comedy bits and scaring people off before they realize he's just joking." That all sounded...new. Certainly not like any of your friends. But not...bad. Manageable, at the least.

 "Minghao, thank God you're here! Joshua, he just. He just can't dance and I don't know what to do," came a voice from within the clump of boys, one that you distantly recognized from somewhere. You realized too late from where. The sight of him, those squished eyes and that bright pink hair and Seokmin glued to his side—you'd only met him once, but you'd have recognized Soonyoung anywhere. Minkyung had only made you look at every single picture she could find of him on social media when she stalked him the day after she broke things off with his extra special friend.

 "I can do the backpack kid dance," the guy who must have been Joshua said, but who gave a shit, you were in the middle of a crisis here. One of Minghao's closest friends was Public Enemy Number One as far as Minkyung was concerned—if she you speaking to him from wherever she was lurking right now, she'd skin you alive.

 Minghao was gently pushing you forward to him, giving you an encouraging smile, and you didn't know what to say to him. "That's—he's—Soonyoung is—but Seokmin, and Minkyung—I'm going to die," you sputtered. It just wasn't fair. Making a good first impression to Minghao's friends was an important piece of this puzzle, of cracking his code, of your scheme to make him love you, and it was going about as badly as it could at this point.

 "Yes. Soonyoung is, but Seokmin and Minkyung, you're going to die," Soonyoung joked, and you knew it was good-natured but you really felt like your life was in danger. Seokmin, the big dumb idiot, was just staring at you wide-eyed and frozen and probably close to pissing his pants. Time stood still.

 "'Hao, can your girlfriend dance?" Soonyoung asked all of the sudden, looking past you at him, but he didn't give him the chance to answer before he grabbed you and pulled you over to Joshua, positioning you between him and some other kid. You'd seen the other guy hanging out with Hansol and Eunwoo before...Seungkwan! Right, his name was Seungkwan. He was another nice but weird kid, so overdramatic, always trying to entertain.

 "Never mind, I know you can't," Soonyoung said, "I saw you at The Yard. It's okay, Young Padawan. Let the master teach you." Minghao had already saved you so often in such little time, but back where you'd left him he was just smirking and shrugged, leaving you all on your own.

 "Okay, everybody! From the top! 5, 6, 7, 8!" Momo had made you repeat the dance dozens of times until she was sure it was embedded into your brain, but in the moment, nothing came to you. There were too many things to do with your hands, T's and L's and antennas and crying motions and knocks. As for anything you were supposed to do with your feet—God help you.

 Joshua actually seemed to be doing well. You were tempted to reach a leg over and trip him when he did some sort of...spin...kick...thing, but kept that desire bottled in. It wouldn't be very becoming of you to sabotage an innocent bystander to your failings just because he could do what you couldn't. You managed to do one or two moves here and there, but for the most part stood still while the others literally danced circles around you.

 "That was...wow," Soonyoung said when they'd all finished, and pointedly wasn't looking in your eyes, "On second thought, Joshua, you're not that bad! Minghao, your girlfriend, she...help her." If looks could kill Soonyoung would have been six feet under already. You'd never seen a glare quite as cutting and fierce as Minghao's, and were suddenly sure that the glares he'd given you the other night with Taehyung were Glare Lites™.

 Stumbling away from the others, you managed to mumble, "I'm not his girlfriend," before Minghao scooted you away to save you anymore shame. He looked pretty shameful, himself, kicking his feet into the ground in a rare display of bashfulness and uncertainty.

 "I apologize for their behavior," Minghao sighed, playing with your fingers but unable to look you in the eye, "they're not usually like this. Soonyoung is typically much more agreeable and light-hearted. I forget how he can be when he goes into Coach Kwon mode."

 "Is he gay?" You really hadn't meant to say that out loud™especially not as obnoxiously as you did. You hoped Minghao knew you weren't asking because of any outdated gay stereotypes or anything, either. Just to be sure, you rambled on, "Just wondering. My friend Minkyung, she was dating Seokmin for a couple of months? But she broke up with him when she saw the way he acted with Soonyoung at The Yard and like. Have you seen them? They seem pretty into each other. I dunno, they touch each other's butts a lot. Dunno if there's some sort of 'no homo' nonsense going on there but, uh. Uh."

 Minghao blinked at you a few times, waiting to be sure you were done. For good measure, you added, "Sorry. I probably sound crazy, it's all Minkyung. I'm sorry. I'll shut up now." When he was sure you had nothing left to say, Minghao reached up to brush some of your hair behind your ear as he laughed. It wasn't a laugh like Jun's, stuck somewhere between mean and endeared and ultimately a mystery to you. No, Minghao sounded...smitten.

 Score.

 "He does like boys," Minghao said, "and girls, too. Sexuality has become much more fluid over the years, you know. I personally find that most people like at least a little bit of both. Like your friend. Zae-ung, or whatever his name was." He was fussing over you now, adjusting the bowl hat on your head and fixing your bow tie, finding any excuse to keep his hands on you.

 You leaned closer to him. "Chan...he was alright," you decided.

 "I like him. You don't come across humans as bright as he is very often," Minghao agreed, and if you weren't so taken with him in this moment, with his soft gaze and tentative touches, you would have found his choice of words somewhat strange.

 Minghao's hands, wide palms and long fingers, were wrapped around your waist now. The music that had been playing quietly from the stereo this whole time suddenly came to life through speakers littered all across the parking lot, some girl group song that you didn't recognize, and if you listened hard enough you could hear Momo screaming at everybody to start dancing.

 Orders from Momo were orders that could not be disobeyed. Much like the first night you'd met, Minghao guided you in some sort of simple ballroom dance, and just like before you were taken to another place. The party-goers around you faded away, there were no more flood lights blaring down upon you, the annoying song drifted into nothing. It was just you and Minghao and his hands on your hips and that earthy, burnt smell that was home to you now.

 "I'll talk you through the choreo," Minghao promised quietly, leading you to the side of the crowd, and you noticed everyone subtly getting into position. With the way Minghao was smiling at you, you didn't even have the chance to be scared of what was to come. As long as Minghao kept looking at that, you felt safe. Nothing could go wrong.

 Of course, he chose that exact moment to let you go and wander away. You grabbed after him, but the abrupt sound of a record scratch stopped you in your tracks, and then the opening synth chords of none other than "Thriller" again. Were there any other Halloween songs besides Thriller and The Monster Mash? You'd have to look into that when you had the chance.

 "Kneel down, love," and there in your head was Minghao's voice again. You really must have been going crazy, imagining him saying he'd talk you through the choreo and then hearing his voice telling you the moves instead of Momo's, the way you'd learned it. By some twist of fate, you managed through the Thriller section of the dance with simple cues from 'Minghao' to “zombie walk” or to do “the thriller claws, you know the ones.”

 When the song switched you ducked down to hide behind the nearest person and started crawling out of the camera's frame. There were lines of duct tape to indicate where the edge of said frame was, and you could only breathe again once you were safely past. You prayed that you'd managed to stay out of view on the journey over here—Momo would have no qualms about literally murdering you if you ruined she and Mina's video like that.

 They were at the front breaking and doing whatever sort of flips and spins they did—you had no idea, you knew absolutely nothing about dancing. The two of them were dance majors, met in the studio, fell in love with each other through the way they moved. To them, dancing was as second nature as walking. They just couldn't understand how it was so much harder for you.

 But your attention wasn't on them, no, your eyes were drawn only to Minghao. He hadn't even broken a sweat. At one point the music dropped out, and most of the dancers fell to the ground. A hollow, tinny beat kept on to which just a few of the dancers kept going—including Minghao. You could hear his voice in your head saying what each move was as he did them:

 "This is a kick step," "A side spin," "The windmill."

 There was absolutely no way you could have known what the names of those dance moves were, even if Momo had ever mentioned them. You never would have remembered or been able to connect the name to the move. A shiver trailed up your spine, goosebumps rising all over your arms. The clouds parted overhead. It was a full moon, and for the first time it occurred to you that there was something...off. About Minghao.

 The light of the moon reflected off of him so brightly and you used that as an excuse to look away from him, but only when the music was fading out and the official choreography had ended. The way he moved was hypnotizing and you couldn't bear to turn your back on him before he'd finished. A normal song came back on, some Top 40's hit, and everyone transitioned seamlessly back into their twerks and sways and grinds.

 You saw the red lights on all of the cameras go off, and finally felt free to move again. Minghao had spotted you on the sidelines and was practically floating across the ground with this wide, effortless smile—but you looked back at him with the most blank face you could manage, blocking out the warmth coming in at the edge of your subconscious, and he halted halfway to you. It felt like he was miles away.

 You wanted nothing more than to cross that distance and let him sweep you into another waltz and not care about any of the things he did, the things he said, that just seemed...out of place. Unfortunately, you couldn't un-realize what you had. You raised your hand in a weak wave to him, one that he didn't return, before rushing off into the maze of cars to get away. He didn't follow.

 Curled up in bed that night, there was a lot to think about. The only thing you knew for sure was that no matter what, you weren't scared of Minghao. Whatever he was, whatever he could do, you knew he'd never hurt you.

 But there had been light conversation while you'd danced with him, most of it forgettable as it were, and one thing was sticking out now that you were as far away from Minghao as you could be and clear of his influence: he'd given you a good once over, asked who exactly you were supposed to be. "Mary Poppins, duh," you told him, and watched his eyes alight with recognition.

 "Oh, I always liked that movie. Remember seeing it in theaters, it was really something." What did that mean? It hadn't seemed like anything important or strange to you in the moment. In the moment, it was just another statement that endeared him to you even more.

 But Xu Minghao was twenty, supposedly, and one Google search later, you knew that Mary Poppins had come out in 1964. It was playing in theaters thirty-four years before Minghao should have been born.

 There was no way Xu Minghao could have seen Mary Poppins in theaters if he was born in 1997. There was no way you should have known the names of those breakdance moves. There was no way your phone could have ended up in your room after your trip into the woods the other night, and there was no way you should have been able to find your way out of them. There was no way a virtual stranger could simply talk you out of a panic attack. There was no way he could have gotten from that spot beside you on the porch swing at The Yard to the banister without you noticing him get up.

 There was no way Minghao was human.

#minghao smut #the8 smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #seventeen scenarios #minghao scenarios #the8 scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #minghao angst #minghao fluff #the8 angst #the8 fluff #i wrote this #i shouldn't post this at like 4 a.m. but #i'm impatient #and i just!!! don't care anymore!!! #whatever BYE

[catsbythegreat]

A Soukoku Fic Rec List From the Authors Themselves!

Hey everyone! This is gonna be a long rec list, so buckle up! My Soukoku Server alongside Chuuya’s Harem have had an event this past week asking Soukoku writers to rec the fics they’re most proud of writing for skk. It can be hard to get recognition in a big fandom, and sometimes as a fic writer it’s hard to feel proud of your work, so we wanted to spread some positivity and visibility while having fic authors be proud of all the hard work they’ve done! 

The submissions we’ve gotten over the past week are amazing! They range from tragedy to angst to fluff to crack and there’s something for everyone. You might know a few of these fics, and a few of them might be new to you, but they all demonstrate our love for soukoku! Here are the fics, with comments from the authors themselves: 

sonderesque

This- http://archiveofourown.org/works/10002131 is an abstract piece that is pretty much just poetry and I actually kinda like it and it'd be amazing if it got checked out, although it is one of my older ones (angst ofc)

And this one- http://archiveofourown.org/works/9912410/chapters/22212713 I'm fond of, because it's Hanahaki and even if it was a gift, I enjoyed writing it a lot, and it was really, really fun to write

Oh my- here's one of the most stupid things I have ever written- https://docs.google.com/document/d/1wkiRRumJYd_67P1XuOXLZn7b6ANSDdTLvx6QLZiZw0M/edit?usp=sharing Dedicated to @Rose and it's a piece of crack and ridiculousness.

@kageyamas-mom

This is a piece I wrote when a certain someone wanted to do a fic trade (I wrote angst for her, she wrote fluff for me) - it's an introspective thing from Chuuya's POV. I enjoyed writing it! http://archiveofourown.org/works/8578450

crimson-snowdrift

These fics have been submitted for SKK Week, Days 1, 2, and 6 respectively. All of these are fluff Soukoku fics and I consider them as my best works so far (in my 1 month of going back to writing lol) and I hope you'll enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them!

Wish - http://archiveofourown.org/works/11304546 (Chuuya reminisces that time eight years ago, when he first attended a festival with Dazai.)

Hanami - http://archiveofourown.org/works/11314278 (Dazai appreciates some of the many things he loves about Chuuya.)

Musings - http://archiveofourown.org/works/11362332 (Dazai's thoughts on Chuuya, inspired with quotes from his real life counterpart. Has a chapter 2 ready, this time from Chuuya's POV)

@kiimone

henlo henlo these are my three favorite skk fics and they might be a little (very) shitty but they're the best ones i got!! i hope you enjoy~

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11171838 this one is a recent one and a greek mythology au abt dazai being a merchant and chuuya being a sea nymph! they fall slowly in love and care abt each other a lot (pain level: 2/10)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10841241 this is a fic that im most proud of!! it was a commission fic about chuuya having scars from using corruption for too long and hating his own image but dazai helping him get through it by showing him his own scars (pain level: 100000/10)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9848708 this was VERY long ago but it was a fic for rose on valentine's day abt a fantasy au! chuuya is a white mage and dazai is a wyvern-riding cavalier who always gets himself in trouble!! they fight demons and monsters together while on a quest to find an abandoned city (pain level: 3/10)

Daanny

these are both old ish

http://archiveofourown.org/works/7919491 - chuuya and dazai make an agreement, it's pretty straightforward lol - the description in the first bit of story was rlly pretty and i spent a lot of time trying to create the flow

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8249605 - soulmate AU and hanahaki AU - used a number of symbolisms thru story also flower language is pretty yeah

@fraink5

I'm going to casually leave my fics here: 

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9942896 “Bah Humbug”- Christmas by Himself this Year - Summary:  Dazai thought he would be spending Christmas alone until he ran into Chuuya, who he supposes is better company than no one. pls I know it's a Christmas fic, but it's my first Soukoku fic, and I'm proud.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11308074 Trust Fall - Summary: '“Don’t worry; you can trust me.” Dazai assured Chuuya, who was at this point already falling. Chuuya tumbled forcefully into Dazai’s extended arms. He squirmed briefly but quickly gave up upon realizing that he could not escape. Chuuya and Dazai had their own trust fall, which worked most of the time.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11336511/chapters/25372383 Conqueror - Summary: After the death of his father, Chuuya inherits the role of the shogun, the most powerful man in Feudal Japan. On the other hand, Dazai is the emperor, a position which holds little to nothing besides money. In their various encounters, Dazai has his heart set on one thing: control of the shogunate. Historical AU. Also my first multi-chapter fic.(edited)

@maiea-maiea

Okay so....... 

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10829463/chapters/24033585 - This is probably my most popular fic, "Leather" it's nicknamed The Ass Fic, becuase it's basically all about how much Dazai loves Chuya's perfectly shaped, firm and pert ass. It's a wip at 11chapters so far. However, I treat this like a sitcom fic, each chapter is like an episode of a comedy show.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10742775/chapters/23813706 - This is "The Seasons" and my first multichapter fic I had ever written. Most people who follow and read my humour fics would probably find this a bit weird because this is legitimately a 5 chapter romance fic sorta slow burn skk. It's based on an ADA tempered Dazai coming back and taking the helm of the Port Mafia, (sorta mentioning he's reforming it), with the focus on him realizing he's maybe in love with Chuya. And I aged them up here so it's my take on how older and more mature skk can get together and actually make a healthy relationship.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11009571 - "The Redhead Gets The Upperhand" - I was conflicted on which fic to choose for my third. I have 3 fave oneshots, and I know some of the others are funnier (I have been so told, haha), but I feel like I really got the pacing of my humour writing the best in here. It's basically Chuya playing Dazai and Dazai knowingly and willingly playing along. I had fun with the idea that Chuya sends Dazai increasingly risque selfies while Dazai is at work during the day. XD

𝓐𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴𝔀𝓸𝓸𝓭 (Asher Blackwood)

This is Gospel

  http://archiveofourown.org/works/9386330/chapters/21248921 - Description; Okay so I have several fics, all of which are pretty fortunately well-regarded (thanks!), but this one is my first and is by a mile my favorite. Inline with canon and captures the way that I think modern SKK works, with both of them kind of orbiting around each other due to being so closely attached as children but without necessarily being very affectionate. Also, Chuuya gets the upper hand and does not die.

@ch-ch-ch-chuuya ( @hybridempresswriting ) 

“You Won’t Lose Me (So Don’t Leave Me Behind)” http://archiveofourown.org/works/9352388 I don’t actually expect anyone to read this all this week because it is a multi-chap fic but it is the one that I am the most proud of. It’s the first multi-chap fic that I’ve ever successfully completed, the word count makes it about as long as the third Harry Potter book, and it was written for my friend Lady based on our soukoku rp where Dazai convinces Chuuya to join the ADA. It’s my proudest work, I love it more than anything. 

“Fair Enough” http://archiveofourown.org/works/9054943 My longest oneshot ever and something I am particularly proud of because tealillie recced it which absolutely made my day. It’s a flowershop AU with a twist--Dazai is still a detective and Chuuya is an ex-convict, and Chuuya gets it bad for this detective; so bad he develops the hanahaki disease.

“Absolutely Ridiculous” http://archiveofourown.org/works/9607931 a bit short and fluffy about how Chuuya and Dazai like to take baths together. This is what really got me into wanting to write more fluff about these two and I just think it’s really funny? I’m very proud of it.

@leio13

Yo! Here are my fics! (I had four actually, but oh well, one of them is barely soukoku anyway): 

Snow Day(http://archiveofourown.org/works/8838169): Chuuya notices a mysterious brunette collapse in the snow. "the stranger collapsed. He fell face-first into the two-feet snow blanket. Amused, Chuuya watched for a minute, waiting for the strange brunette to push himself out of the snow, but he didn’t, and snow began to lightly accumulate onto the back of his thin brown jacket. Oh shit…"

Still Alive(http://archiveofourown.org/works/11260242): It's Dazai's birthday, and Chuuya finally decides to give him what he wants. "Chuuya inhaled slowly, his breath trembling between his lips, and reentered the apartment. He strolled into the bedroom, sweat dripping down his forehead. 'Okay, Dazai. I’m ready.' "'Okay, Chuuya.' Dazai lay still on the white sheets with a small angelic smile gracing his face. He had even changed into a suit for the occasion. It all hurt Chuuya so much."

The Secret Garden (http://archiveofourown.org/works/11070258/chapters/24687762): Dazai, the son of a rich lord, stumbles upon a servant in the courtyard, but the servant isn't supposed to be there. What will happen next? (a multi-chapter fic in the works) "Amongst the array of wild flowers, blooming festively in a multitude of colors, Dazai spotted the most novel specimen leaning flush against the large, vine coiled trunk of one of the several trees that shaded the area. Dazai crept closer. The creature, which he soon reasoned was one of the younger servants, had bright, unkempt hair that fell to his shoulders in messy curls. The boy had the palest skin Dazai had ever seen, almost as pale as the sanguinaria planted nearby, and was currently asleep. Small splotches of sunlight waltzed across his innocent face through the leaves. It was a sight Dazai wouldn’t dare disturb if his curiosity and longing for novelty had been any less overwhelming."(edited)

@unfortunatesylveon

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11390715 Hey everyone, this is my first and only fic I've written. I'm genuinely proud of it ^^

@kevindxy

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11363979  this is the skk fic that i'm happiest with because it's apocalyptic themed and i think i captured the mood of it better than i usually do in my writing ^^

@catsbythegreat

"the beautiful various dreams" http://archiveofourown.org/works/11249238 is a coma au that I thought about for a while and I really like how it turned out because I was scared for a while of trying to write dreams and reality mixing together. 

"Mistake" http://archiveofourown.org/works/10609371 I really enjoyed writing this idea that working in the Mafia has effects and dealing with the effects in a place where you can't show weakness is incredibly hard. This one also had a weird format that I had to plan a lot, and I was happy to pull it together. 

"Once More" http://archiveofourown.org/works/8897146/chapters/20391742 I don't expect people to read this because it's long af but it's basically my love letter to SKK and exploring their relationship and it's also one of the few longfics that I've actually seen through to a conclusion. So I'm proud that I finished it. It wasn't meant to be a longfic.

Kelly 

"And I Will Chase You Forever, If That's What It Takes" http://archiveofourown.org/works/11354586 This is my favourite fic I did for skk week.  I put a lot into it.  It's pretty Chuuya centric with lots of young soukoku and it looks at how Chuuya deals with the imbalance between him and Dazai.  (Also I'm a sucker for happy endings, even when they're mine)

"Winter Wonderland" http://archiveofourown.org/works/9102799 This is the purest fluff I have ever managed to write.  Nobody suffers at all, which in and of itself is an accomplishment.  Plus I had a great time writing it!

"Needs" http://archiveofourown.org/works/8541640 I like the different interactions in this one.  Lots of Chuuya hurting and Dazai comforting.  It highlights a softer side to Dazai and shows how aspects of their dynamic developed.

 @cyuya-nakahara

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10768806 You're Insufferable (We're Inseparable) this one is really important to me because it's a detailed look at the growth of their relationship, and is intended to cover everything. it's an intrinsic look at both sides.

 http://archiveofourown.org/works/10657617 A Typical Tuesday Night This one is a oneshot, set in the same verse as yiwi. I'm really proud of how it came out, the feelings I wanted to convey are, I feel, very well represented.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10817004 A Different Sort Of Dance I really like the interactions I write in this one. it's on going and on pause, but I think what's there is worth a read. I like my writing and description in this one.

#soukoku #skk #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #bungou stray dogs #fic recs #discord

[livinglifelikeyashould]

Jake and amy short fic idea : amy is pregnant and is desperate for a cig from the stress and turns to jake for help ..... too much? 😂

Okay, first of all, thank you for the prompt! Second of all, when I got this ask, it was like 11 PM where I live and it’s now 2 AM and I haven’t stopped writing, haven’t even read through it but there it is, it’s out of my hands and it’s probably gonna be a bit incoherent, so sorry for that. A few notes: this got away from me, lol, I don’t know if 3k words is your definition of ‘short’ but well; I have no clue about pregnancy, so sorry if this is terribly inaccurate, I tried with my limited knowledge and my sleep depravity. Anyways, putting it under a read-more so it doesn’t crowd people’s dashboard and I hope you like it! :)

Being pregnant sucks.

It’s a fact Amy hadconsidered well while making her five-year plan binder but she had always knownthat she wanted to raise a family with the right person and leave her own markon the world through her two amazing children (Amy refuses to go through theinsanity her mother went through that was raising eight children, seven of which are boys; she shudders each time shethinks of being pregnant for that long andthe research and organizational hell it would be to re-plan her wholebinder) that were going to be on the top of their classes in school, graduatewith honors and then take over the world in their own way.

She had put possible careers for herchildren in the binder but then scrapped them, deciding that she should behumble about their future and only be a supporting mother who only gave aslight nudge in the right direction whenever necessary.

(The other reason wasthat Jake had let out such an offended noise when he found out, that Amy wasmore or less forced to admit that maybe she had went a little overboard.

Maybe.)

Amy had planned herpregnancy even before her and Jake got together and she was determined tofollow her Life Plan meticulously despite all the obstacles that got in herway.

Namely: Jake going to WitSec, the precinct nearly getting shut down, her own fears of jeopardizing herrelationship with Jake because of her aspirations to become a sergeant, Jakegetting wrongly convicted and going to jail, her working tirelessly to get himout…

Thank God, she had thebrains to put extra time intervals in her binder and Plan in case those type ofthings happened.

Anyway, Amy and Jakehad prevailed and had finally gotten married just in time to fit the assortedtime interval she had planned out and the next logical step was, of course,starting their own family.

It had been a coupleof years after tying the knot when they started trying – Amy had wanted tosettle in her new job as a Sergeant and Jake had no qualms about letting her doso – but when they did, it had happened very fast.

As in, two-weeks-very-fast.

(It’s in our blood, mija, her mother hadsaid, as if that gave any explanation.)

Nevertheless, Amy wasprepared with all possible pregnancy books and binders she had put togetherwith her husband’s help and while they had been shocked at first, the sheer joybubbling inside their chests had quickly taken over and the excitement of beingfuture parents was almost tangible whenever they looked at each other.

The first few monthswere not that bad, aside from the morning sickness and adjusting to her strangecravings at ungodly hours of the night, but Amy hadn’t been very fazed sinceshe had done her best to study her pregnancy books. However, as the monthsadvanced and her belly grew, her tolerance for exhaustion drastically droppedand she couldn’t keep reading those books without falling asleep after 15minutes. Amy would wake up an hour later, get frustrated about how 15 minutes is not nearly enough time toabsorb valuable information, Jake! and how this baby growing inside of herwas making her life so difficult.

Jake would then giveher a meaningful look, accompanied by a small smile and Amy would start feelingguilty about blaming this little peanut that was half her and half Jake thatshe had come to love unconditionally even before it was born and she wouldapologize profusely to her belly while stroking it gently.

(This was also veryoften accompanied by crying uncontrollably about how Amy was going to be aterrible mother which would prompt Jake to grasp her hands and tell her in hismost earnest voice that she was going to be the awesomest mom ever and I’m gonna be the coolest dad ever – point is,Ames, we’re gonna be great parents. Amy would then reluctantly smile andsay with a watery chuckle that awesomestis not even a word, Jake to which Jake would reply with something along thelines of you’re gonna be such an awesomemom that you deserve a new word.

She would then kisshim and demand a foot rub.)

Amy was ecstatic abouthaving a kid with Jake and her pregnancy was filled with magical moments.

But this one that shewas experiencing at the moment was, decidedly, not.

As soon as Amy hadwoken up, her fingers were itching to solve something which was very uncool ofher brain since she had started her pregnancy leave two weeks beforehand. Jakehad developed this ability to sense whenever she got too fidgety and anxious,so whenever he came home, he would walk her through his own cases and ask herfor a fresh perspective. It worked, since that itch usually appeared some timeduring the day, most often the afternoon when she was bored out of her mind, soshe didn’t have that much time to dwell on the fact that she couldn’t workbefore Jake came home.

Feeling that itch in the morning was new.

And inconvenient.

(As lots of things that come with this pregnancy, Amy’s mindsupplied which annoyed her even further.)

She was determined notto spiral, though, so Amy forced herself to be positive and go about her day asusual before she could get her hands on a new case from her husband in theevening. It was a positive thought that filled her with energy she didn’trealize she could have, so her hopes went up and her morning was spent with asmile on her face.

Of course, all badthings happen after lunch and Amy cursed herself for not preparing for thebarrage of disasters that occurred during the afternoon.

At her seven monthmark, Amy often had cravings not only during the night but the whole day, sowhen she laid down to watch some daytime TV, she knew she was going to get upto the kitchen at least five times.

She knew what she wasgetting into by laying down, is what she’s saying.

At getting up numberseven in the span of an hour and a half, Amy banged her head on her kitchencabinet (because she had forgotten to close it at getting up number five, butwho cares) which caused her right foot to reflexively fly out forwards and herbig toe getting slammed on the kitchen island.

Amy didn’t bothermuffling her following scream.

Jake’s calm voicechanted in her head In, out, in, outand after a minute of deep breathing, the worst of the pain had passed and Amyforced her eyes open. She then registered that her toe was slightly bleedingwhich was going to stain the carpet and that thought was enough to send coldshivers down her spine. She retrieved a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, somecotton and band aids from the bathroom cabinet before sitting carefully on thetoilet seat. Soaking the cotton in the peroxide, Amy stretched her right legout and then strained to reach it but no matter how much force she put behind heractions, the cotton ball she was holding couldn’t even reach her toe becauseher belly was in the way.

Her belly was in the way.

Amy could feel hernostrils flaring and the faint sound of her mother’s reprimanding about it howit isn’t good for the baby for her to get angry flowed somewhere from behindher.

“I know,” Amy gritthrough her teeth.

Great, now I’m going insane.

After 10 minutes ofbreathing exercises and imagining new binder smell and laminating the list ofnames she and Jake had come up with, Amy felt calm enough to try a creativesolution that more or less got the job done.

(She threw the cottonball on the floor near her foot and pulled out some serious moves to roll hertoe around it and clean the wound.

Amy had never been soglad to be alone than in that moment.)

It took her nearlyhalf an hour of rolling her leg, cursing in both English and Spanish andsweating profusely but in the end Amy had a band aid on her toe and thebathroom was a mess. She took a small break during which she triumphantly grinnedat her toe and then set about cleaning the trash that she had piled up.

Amy thought cleaningwould calm her down as it had always done but she was exhausted and the jobtook her twice as long as it normally would which only served to feed thered-hot ball of anger in her stomach. She felt dirty and tired, her toeslightly throbbed in pain and the weight of her belly screwed up her center ofgravity even more than usual.

She wanted to cry.

Amy didn’t letherself, though, since she was a strong woman who was taught not to depend onanybody, so she sucked it up and took a quick (ish) shower which was colder than she would’ve liked but it wasn’t enoughto break down the wall of determination she had built around herself.

She managed to layback down on the couch to watch Ellen, onlyto find out that she had missed it.

By three hours.

The urge to cry hither even more intensely than before.

However, the urge tosmoke was even bigger.

Amy started pacing theliving room until her hands started shaking and her knees screamed in protest.She sat down reluctantly on one of the chairs at the dining table but couldn’tkeep herself from biting her nails.

Once the idea ofsmoking a cigarette (just one would beenough, she told herself) invaded her mind, it refused to go away. Amy hada big problem and she didn’t know what to do about it.

She didn’t know forhow long she sat there when she heard the telltale click of the door unlocking.

“Babe, you will not believe this case Sarge assigned metoday, I mean, it’s like Inception levelsof mind-blowing, you’re gonna—“

Jake froze when helooked up and saw his wife at the dining table, biting her nails obsessively, amanic look in her eye and her hair done in small braids.

Oh no.

“Babe?”

There was no reaction;it was like she hadn’t noticed him entering or she was just too anxious to evenlook up at him. Jake left his keys on the table before shrugging off hisjacket, satchel and sneakers, leaving them by the door to deal with later. Hetook a tentative step forwards but then moved back to the mess he left andstarted arranging his things in their designated spots, knowing that if Amy wasat Level 4 of the Santiago Panic Scale as he suspected, she would get even moreanxious as soon as she merely glanced at his items on the floor.

When he was confidentenough that his things were in relative order, Jake padded quietly over to Amywho hadn’t ceased chewing her nails. Just as he was about to say her namesoftly and reach out to her, her frantic gaze snapped to his and Jake nearlyshit his pants at how terrifying hiswife looked at that moment.

(Thank God, she hadn’ttaken out the braids yet because then Jake couldn’t guarantee what would’ve orwouldn’t have happened in his pants.)

“Jake!” Amy nearlyshouted, fighting with the table to stand up quickly. Jake immediately moved tohelp her but she shooed him off and he took a step back. “Hey, aren’t youearly? I feel like you’re early, maybe you aren’t, I don’t know, pregnancy screwedup my sense of time.”

“Ames—“Jake started,but Amy cut him off abruptly, grabbing his hoodie with both hands and pullinghim close, her belly slightly digging into his stomach.

“I. Really. Need. Tosmoke.”

Jake blinked.

“What? Why? You haven’thad a craving in forever!”

Amy huffed out afrustrated breath, leaning away slightly from her husband but didn’t loosen hergrip on him.

“I just… I had themost awful day and it’s never been sobad but I’m really tempted to take out that box of cigarettes in the toilet you’vebeen hiding from me—“

“Wait, you know aboutthat one?” Jake demanded in a high-pitched voice but Amy continued as if hehadn’t uttered a word.

“–and light one so Ican stop feeling like, like… this andI need you to stop me.”

Amy’s quick speech wasaccompanied by frantic movements of her eyebrows and a pleading look in hereyes and it was so… Amy that Jakecouldn’t help but grin down at his wife. Her pupils darted left and right tohis own and he could see how worked up she was, so Jake gently pried her handsoff his hoodie, enveloping them in his own before giving them a reassuringsqueeze.

“Ames.”

Her eyes stoppedflitting around and with them her entire body visibly relaxed but the tensionwasn’t gone yet.

“I need you to listento me carefully, okay?” Amy nodded.

“Good,” taking a deepbreath, Jake walked them over to the couch and sat, Amy reluctantly followinghis lead. “Babe, if there is one person strong enough to overcome anything inthe name of their child, it’s the mom. And you’re already an example of that, Imean, how many things did you give up already? Going to work, solving cases,Trivia Newton John, smoking?”

“Jake…” Amy startedexasperatedly but he cut her off quickly.

“I mean it, Ames. Youcan do this, you’re one of the strongest women I know, the strongest even, but don’t tell Rosa or my mom about that.”

Amy let out a smallchuckle and Jake felt his grin widen and his courage expand.

“I can’t pretend toknow how hard it is to be pregnant but it’s my job to help you in whatever wayI can as your husband and our baby daddy.”

“Don’t call yourself ‘babydaddy’,” Amy deadpanned.

“Roger that,” Jakenodded. “Look, don’t give up now, okay? We’ve got a little ways to go and Italked with the Captain and he agreed to give me the last two months off.Apparently I stacked enough vacation time and it won’t be a problem.”

Amy’s expressionshifted to concern and uncertainty.

“Jake, are you sure? Idon’t want you giving up working for me.”

“I’m not giving upanything, Ames. There’s no place I’d rather be than at your and our baby’sside.”

That red-hot ball ofanger and anxiety in her stomach quickly morphed into that warm feeling Amy alwaysgot whenever Jake was being his usual supporting self and said something soromantic that her toes involuntarily curled. It spread through her chest, allthe way to her joints and she tilted her head to the side, an affectionatesmile lacing her features along with the tears she had been fighting to keepback, although they were not tears of frustration anymore. Jake was looking ather in wonder, his expression so unbelievably soft and his eyes sparkling warmly, that Amy didn’t hesitate inuntangling her hands from his, only to cup his face with them and leanforwards. Jake didn’t miss a beat and met her halfway, considering the factthat she would have had trouble reaching with her belly in the way. The kisswas gentle, just a soft brush of their lips but it was somehow just right andboth of them looked at each other with matching smiles when they pulled away.

“Thank you,” Amy said,her voice barely above a whisper.

“Anytime,” Jakeanswered before clearing his throat and smirking slightly. “Now, will you tellme what happened today that got you so riled up?”

He shifted back,making space between them and leaned down to grab her feet and put them in hislap without breaking eye contact. As soon as he looked down, though, Jakeimmediately noticed the haphazardly put together band aid on her right foot’sbig toe and his eyes widened comically.

“What the hellhappened? Oh my God, are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere else? Let me see,”Jake almost shrieked and Amy lifted her hands up to stop him.

“I’m fine, Jake, it’sa long story.”

Her husband glared ather for a moment but she didn’t back down, going so far as to lifting up herchin in defiance, before he sighed in defeat and went to work with his massage.Amy bit back a satisfied moan – Jake really was good at foot massages.

(She would tell him ina quiet but filled with mirth voice the next night when Jake’s wrappedprotectively around her beneath the warm covers of their bed but at that exactmoment Amy didn’t want to be reminded of her bad day – she just wanted to spendsome quality time with her dork of a husband.)

“You were telling meabout a case? Something about ‘Inception levelsof mind-blowing’?” Amy questioned with an excited grin on her face. Jake shookhis head at her avoidance of the subject but said nothing, opting to quicklyretrieve the case file from his satchel and passing it to his wife who had amild look of annoyance on her face.

“Jake, I told you notto bring home case files from the precinct. Captain Holt will be sodisappointed!”

“It’s fine, he won’targue with a heavily pregnant Amy Santiago,” Jake deadpanned and Amy laughedheartily. “Okay, okay, you ready for this?”

“I was born ready,Peralta.”

Jake grinned.

“Okay. Get this: ajewelry store was robbed at around 4 AM yesterday and it had only one exit anda gajillion security alarms.”

Amy faked yawning.

“I was promised ‘Inception levels of mind-blowing’, Jake.”

“I know, hear me out.Crime techs reported that there were signs on the exit door being forced open… from the inside.”

Jake stared at hiswife in anticipation, his mouth open in a wide grin and his eyebrows lifted sohigh on his forehead that it had started to hurt.

Amy was silent for afew moments before almost shouting in a high-pitched voice, “Whaaat?!”

And so Amy’s awful dayended with bouncing theories about an impossible case with her husband whomanaged to not only bring her dinner without her noticing but also continuingwith his massage on her feet and making her laugh in-between with hisimpressions of possible suspects.

God, she loved him so much.

#jake x amy #peraltiago #peraltiago fanfiction #b99 fanfiction #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #b99 #jake peralta #amy santiago #future fic #b99 fluff #prompt fill #my fic #jake x amy fic #fuck i'm tired #i really hope you guys like this

[gretchensinister]

It’s Done

I just realized that percentage-wise, most of my followers might not know what I’m talking about. Well.

On April 24, 2013, I posted  Even Coal Has Value (North/Pitch), which was the fill for the first unfilled prompt in Round One of the Rise of the Guardians kinkmeme on Dreamwidth. This was the beginning of my quest to fill every unfilled prompt on that kinkmeme, no matter what.

And I did it. 

Yeah, I weaseled with the terms and the spirit of a few. Yeah, my preference for certain ships showed. And...I don’t care. I did it. I filled every unfilled prompt on that kinkmeme. So! Round One of the Rise of the Guardians kinkmeme? If there’s a prompt there, it has a fill. Put it in a memorial with any other filled kinkmemes, if there are any.

And I only ran afoul of the mods like, twice. (Both times after I had assumed the mods were long gone, lol.)

Stats!

4/24/2013-1/6/2017 = 3 years, 8 months, 13 days

Number of fics: 583

Number of words: 547,967

Average number of words per fic: ~940 

Median number of words per fic: 796 (this means that most fics were below the average word count)

I had no idea there were so many stories. I feel...sort of afraid of myself right now at the moment. I have to acknowledge that I’m a person who has written 583 short stories for this kinkmeme alone. (I didn’t include tumblr prompts or event weeks or things I just wrote for the hell of it in this number.) Who does that sort of thing? I did. 

I like to think I’ve gained some kind of additional skill in writing after doing all this. Lately, I sometimes felt that I hadn’t learned a thing and had somehow gotten worse after all this time, but in some ways I think that’s because I wasn’t giving myself a chance to write slowly. (I will now, though.) 

And, I’m sure as I start the re-read process to give top fives (or top tens for the big lists) in each ship, I will find that I’ve improved significantly over time (well, still, fingers crossed).

There’s a lot I could talk about regarding the kinkmeme prompts, but I only want to write a little, so if I seem to be talking at random, that’s why.

First of all: the RotG kinkmeme is wonderfully clear and organized, and incredibly polite. There’s some funky-ass prompts in there, but honestly I would recommend it to anyone wondering how a kinkmeme should look. 

Second of all: I noticed that prompts tended to come in waves. While that makes sense for the prompters (you see a prompt about one character, and you want to see something similar with a different character, so you make another prompt), sometimes it could really suck for me (there was a cluster of self-harm prompts; that wasn’t a fun week). I was going to say that sometimes it could be fun, but, no, the only thing about prompt clusters that was fun was that sometimes I made up AUs in frustration at having to rehash the same darn thing.

(I love AUs. I’m going to make a post with the top five kinkmeme-original AUs.)

Third of all: HOLY SHITTING FUCK I swear that I found more prompts for “Jack is super upset about having died” than anything, ANYTHING else. It was at a point where I would have rather seen prompts for the creepy flavor of blackice rather than another “um why didn’t jack break down when he realized he lost his family and also is dead b/c you kno he’s really just a emotional teenager” prompt. These were also the most similar prompts to each other. And almost none of them were filled, and you know why? Because this is not that interesting of a topic, especially when Jack isn’t dead in any meaningful way, and he’s THREE HUNDRED YEARS OLD. THREE HUNDRED. YEARS. OLD. (BTW, I have now developed a creep-out reaction to the epithet “the boy” when referring to Jack. I know that it wasn’t one person doing this but as a fandom habit it now makes me wince.) Um....anyway. I know I’m kind of being a jerk here. I just got so sick of these prompts. Maybe another part of it was because they were rarely detailed? Which meant that I had to come up with everything that Jack felt, and some reason he would be upset that was new and different from the time before, and etc. And I just...Jack is three hundred years old. He knows how long people live. And I don’t think thirty seconds of memory infusion is the same as living a life with a family and then losing them. 

Fourth-whatever of all: Pitch is not that dignified, people. He wants to be, but he’s not. He’s a (scary) pun-lord in a robe. Also, if you have a group prompt and leave out Sandy, I’m going to include him anyway, and I will also FIND YOU. Also, I’ve watched RotG a lot, and where does sugar-high “lol random” Jack come from? Is he hiding in the same place with the Guardians that treat him as a child rather than an equal? Also...actually never mind, I’ll talk about assumed power dynamics/sex positions somewhere else. Also, I still don’t know anything about Australian slang and that’s probably for the best. Also, I’m still not clear what a “snark-off” is, and I’m sure I never wrote one, no matter how many bonus internet points it would have got me. Also, I have read the word “cue” too many times in my life now, and I need to replace it with something else. Maybe, like, BEHOLD. Or something.

Anyway. I don’t want to sound so grumpy. I’m thrilled to have completed this project, and I enjoyed the vast majority of the writing. There are a lot of fics in this project that I’m proud of, and there are a lot of seeds for future projects in all these fills, as well.

But I think I might...(547,967)...take a...(583)...(3 years, 8 months, 13 days)...short break.

But first!

The Shortest Fill

The Top Ten Longest Fills (there’s a lot of variety here, and they might not be what you think):

Ten

Nine

Eight

Seven

Six

Five

Four

Three

Two

ONE (Yes, this is the biggest fill...and...well. *cackling*)

#rise of the guardians #rotg #writing #you haven't seen the last of me! #please give me attention everyone I did this thing I need pats and treats