#“i'm only here because i have no other choice”

[theladybrownstarot]

𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤-𝐀-𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 ?

✧ HOW TO PICK A PILE ? Take a deep breathe , close your eyes after your open them up choose the pile where your sight goes first in calming inner silence . If you are called up by more than one pile you please feel free to choose it .

✧ ABOUT THE PAC : Wishing everyone a very happy new year , the month of chaitra or the April is the starting of a new year according to ved . Now, with the starting of this new year let's promise ourselves to be our best version . I'm late lmao but it's okay we will get through it 😭🤍

✧ Masterlist - for more , support me by following .

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ᯓ★ 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏.

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

⋆˚ You can expect a good news related to pregnancy or you can expect yourself to have good relation with your mother or relationship with your mother or any female figure. Even isn't this , I can see that this year you're being told to focus more on yourself emotionally. Even I can see you taking care of yourself emotionally.In this sense, it is not that you are providing more to the others or loving them first, it is about loving and knowing yourself first , then to proceed with someone else. I can see that the more you will actually try to analyse yourself, know yourself. You're gonna find something very precious about yourself that you didn't know was actually inside you and was to be treasured before, so overall, it's gonna be a self journey to know yourself to know your those aspect that you didn't know by nurturing yourself and loving yourself profoundly , This Will be the only way to manifest and achieve what you couldn't or wanted to.

⋆˙⟡ I can see that in between the year or around you may have to face an emotional upheaval.It could be a break up or any emotional fight or something , For Some is it's gonna be that you have to face some sort of disappointment With the things expected to give you, but it didn't and that's why you will realize that something from the past is what will give you all . It's kinda vague and Hard to explain but yes like you realise that past was right or it could be a decision or choice you took first left it went for other when it didn't give you the result you realise that the 1st one was right.

⋆˙⟡ Okay this is gonna be a bit tough but brace yourself with mental breakdown too because here I can see that someone or more than one person are going to betray you , if not , than you are going to be overthinking a lot almost leading your negative impacts taking over you health wise. You may deal with self-esteem/confidence issue around but this all is gonna be a test for you by universe to measure how inner-strong you have become.

⋆˚ You guys do not release and express yourself properly which leads to the accumulation of bad energies on you which impacts you so when facing any negative situation(s) remembers it's because you are too realise the energies reciprocating the situations or any life circumstances - all to change yourself internally and your perceptions .

⋆˚ If we come to the guidance than you are being told to release. JUST RELEASE - energies , people or anything that your heart calls for just release. Next , dont let yourself be too pratical because you are in too be emotionally strong because I see majority of people lack emotional balance and strength which over all harms their practical side and puts on negativity to their actions leading to failure . Only listen to your heart and nothing else no matter what because heart is more intelligent than the mind. Accept whatever that happens in life - good or bad since all will happen to make your strong.

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ᯓ★ 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

⋆˚Okay , so the first thing that hit me was healing and next wish-fulfillment . This year is going to be one where you are going to heal yourself in any way or context possible not necessarily related to any traumatic event but rather most towards self-improvement on a wider sense . Now , if we go to wish-fulfillment than many of your wishes are going to be fulfilled in such a sense that it will grow you more confident , some may not be successful but you will surely some major life lessons from this . This year is really good to start any thing new you wanted - setting up goals . Apart it is going to be smooth majorly with peacefulness you deserve , whatever you will bow will reap so be careful little darlin ! birds and small plants are going to be very important , significant or beneficial for you so have them . If you were dealing from some past health issues than it seems that its gonna be healing too here as I said before healing on a wider sense but all through self-initiations .

⋆˙I see that you all will blessed with self-confidence , idk why but self and inner like words that I'm getting here is related to you this gives the feeling that rather than external achievements its going to be about inner or personal achievements . You people can have babies here too like this year is auspisicioius for you pregnancy - July , september and october will be prominent or you can go for these months to conceive . There is going to be a lot of positivity coming this year , there prosperity but at same time expansion of things coming up . Your manipur chakra is going to strengthen up a lot this year - think positive and act positive is going to be your motto or the guiding statement . Some people can expect good job opportunities - promotion , travel , salary increment or job change can be seen here. You people are going to make a big progressive jump this year making up for the past ones . you are being reassured that divine is with you .

⋆˚Travel is going to a prominent thing here because many things are going to follow up after this only , you are being recommended this year that change your location or just change from anywhere . It is possible that you people may meet someone from foreign or overseas job is possible for you all . 7 number is prominent here for you all and next could be 9 . This year will be followed by various opportunities but you need to be very open - receiving , analyzing and selecting it out for you . YOU are being told that along this year journey karma is going to be completed here - yours and others.

⋆˚For extra guidance you are being told to accept yourself more than seeking external validation from people for yourself , trust more when people don't do or when things seem to fall apart just don't leave you side - self-love and relax more , worry less .

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ᯓ★ 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑.

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

⋆˙⟡ Okay ,at the first go the message is about clarity - since you will dealing many things. This year I can sense very well that you will be more influenced by the external factors than internal factors - New decisions to take upon yet you will indecisive and quite unsure of it . Do not let multiple thoughts hit you at the one time when you're dealing with anything because I can see that it will only make fall your self- esteem and confidence more . You will be kept a lot busy with the things I can see here . You are being advised to keep yourself grounded and peaceful so you can prevent major set backs from the things diverting the things positively. Your mind will be running fast this year - turbo speed with work . For right now do not make any hasty decisions . You will have to face situation which will indeed triggers your deepest or we those dark aspects which let you know how much work is more needed or is needed on accordingly.

⋆˙⟡ I can sense something very major here regarding you - major self transformation. I Can very well see that you're not among those who are not actually putting Efforts to prevent their bad habits taking control on them , I Can see that you are still struggling To get things to the right place.Accordingly this year will be very A roller coaster since it will shake you up and down getting the stubborn parts out permanently yet will be quite earth-shaking . This is all taking place before the next half of the year only. I'm repeating again in short- no hasty decisions, meditate often to peace and ground urself only this will help you for now and further , your life is well framed by divine but you are asked to transform and make yourself as wished for .

⋆ You will be a lot firm this year along that it's possible that you may have to face- betrayal or robbery in any sense possible other than that you will be leaving certain things which won't be serving you mentally that too by being emotionally withdrawn since you people are quite high on emotions which at times takes over your mental well being . Number 8 and 7 is prominent in the reading along air signs that I can see.

⋆˙ You will be learning how to forgive and heal forward in life, unlike pile no. 2 which focused on the broader aspect this piles is being gently called to heal their inner house - values, esteem , belief and concept which will smoothly and gently take you to the life which awaits for your elegant arrival into the undiscovered part . This whole year will be about you away from outside world mostly - such a gentle energy 🤍

⋆˙ I'm feeling so EMOTIONAL like what a beautiful ending I'm getting- a fully transformed person gently smiling entering to the world they deserved after so many mental battles to make themselves best but looking the past not with shame rather gratitude ; it's you who will be this person. Now If I go further if you are someone who wasn't connected with outer world or for time being as per reading so you will later on even infact you will get travel related opportunities but most important you will learn to navigate your life in your own pace and flow and that's when you will soon meet the love of your life ~

⋆˙⟡ But at same time I see that It will be not that you will be actually getting this all done by yourself.Rather , you will be taking help from the others too who will be genuine and kind to you , who really care about you and never leave you. I see a male here mostly for people and if not than ummm you may go through this journey along with someone who is facing the Same thing . You will meet the people - genuine and true friends who will be the rock and beat of your life so belive in good and let it come manifested to you soon !

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©️ @theladybrownstarot 2025 all rights reserved. Any stealing or copying of work will be a punishable offence.

[levanterhaze]

── GAMEBOY, BANGCHAN

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader praise kink, protected sex, rough sex, fluff & angst.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[12.3k words ]♡― here we are, at the last chapter of gameboy. writing this series has been so much fun and having the opportunity to tell the stories i love to write is a privilege. i hope i don't disappoint you with this ending, that you understand each choice made for the characters. i also hope you continue to support me, this has been so special and welcoming to me, i can't thank you enough for everything. thank you for embracing gameboy, for continuing to read and for all your support. from the bottom of my heart. PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS!!!! that said, have a good read.

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡ [part one] ♡[part two]♡ [part three] ♡[part four] ♡[part five] ♡[part six] ♡[part seven]

'Cause I'm right here waiting for us 때로는 두려웠어 다신 오지 않을 것 같아서 두 손 꼭 잡은 채 그 어떤 순간이 덮쳐 와도 널 놓지 않을게

After all the chaos, the only thing that made sense was leaving.

So you did.

You shot Hyunjin a text, practically begging him to take you to the bus stop. He didn’t ask questions—he was too pissed off about the whole thing, ranting the entire drive about how it was bullshit that you had to be the one to go. In his mind, Eunji and Mingyu should’ve been the ones packing their bags.

And maybe he was right. But you were exhausted. Your body ached from the tension, your head was a tangled mess of emotions, and honestly? You just didn’t have it in you to fight anymore.

By the time you got back to campus, you had a plan—or at least, a temporary bandage disguised as one. You marched straight to the admin office and spun some tragic, half-true sob story about needing to “regain focus” on your studies. A few forced tears later — maybe slightly real ones— they handed you the keys to a new dorm on the other side of campus.

No hesitation. No second-guessing. You packed what little you had and moved in before anyone even realized you were gone.

And then you disappeared.

One day after another, like clockwork. No calls, no texts, no explanations. Just silence.

Your life has shrunk down to a routine: rehearsals, studying, sleep, repeat.

Hyunjin and Seungmin still tried to pull you out of your self-imposed exile, inviting you to lunch, cracking jokes at rehearsals to get a reaction out of you—but you always politely refused. You weren’t rude, just... distant. Like a ghost of yourself.

Bangchan had tried. Over and over. Messages sent and then deleted, calls he never made, moments of hesitation that stretched into frustration. He wanted to give you space, wanted to respect whatever it was you needed, but that didn’t make it any easier. Every time he saw you, it felt like his chest was caving in.

He’d even asked Hyunjin about you, but the guy was like a vault. Hyunjin wasn’t about to betray you—not even for him. “She’s busy,” was all he ever got. “Leave her alone, man.”

But how could he, when you were right there? When you were always the last to show up at rehearsals and the first to leave, slipping away before he even had a chance to try? It was torture. Watching you go about your life like he wasn’t part of it anymore. Like he never had been.

And it was worse because he could still feel you.

In his bed, between the sheets. In his hands, aching for your touch. In his mind, where your laugh and your voice were stuck on a loop, growing more distant with every passing day—like a dream he was trapped in, running but never getting anywhere.

And you wouldn’t even look at him.

If your eyes ever landed on him in the theater, they flicked away like it physically hurt you to see him. If you spotted him on campus, walking with the boys, you immediately turned your head.

So you buried yourself in anything that wasn’t him. Anything that wasn’t Eunji. Because thinking about either of them was the only thing more unbearable than being alone.

And Eunji—who didn’t even look at you, let alone speak to you. Every time your paths crossed, she barely acknowledged your existence, like you were something rotten in her periphery. A stranger. No, worse—something beneath her.

And that hurt. Maybe even more than Bangchan.

Because you’d believed in her. In you two. In the kind of unspoken loyalty that came with late-night talks, inside jokes, and secrets exchanged under dim dorm room lights. You thought there was sisterhood in that. Something unshakable.

But in the end, it was nothing. A mirage. A mist that vanished the second you tried to hold on.

A few weeks had passed and you were enjoying your own company in the library, an iced coffee and your headphones. You were studying your lines for the next class, until someone took the seat in front of you and your eyes looked up in surprise to see Sohee sitting with her arms crossed.

“Sohee.” you murmured, almost not believing she was there.

Sohee arched her brow, unimpressed. “Oh, so you do remember me.”

You blinked, scrambling for words. “I—of course, I do. I just—”

“Disappeared?” she finished for you, leaning back in her chair. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Guilt twisted in your stomach, but you kept your expression neutral. “I’ve been busy.”

She let out a dry laugh. “Right. Busy. Too busy to text? Too busy to tell me why you packed up and moved to the other side of campus?” Her eyes narrowed. “Eunji won’t tell me what happened. Neither will Hyunjin. Which means something happened, and I need you to stop bullshitting me.”

Your mouth went dry, fingers tightening around your coffee cup. The truth sat heavy on your tongue, bitter and unspeakable. 

What if she looked at you the way Eunji did? 

Sohee exhaled, her sharpness softening just a fraction. “Look, I don’t know what went down, but I missed you, okay?”

Your heart clenched. She wasn’t angry. She was hurt. And that somehow made it worse.

You put your headphones aside and took a deep breath, gathering the courage to begin.

So you started from the very beginning. Bangchan, the secrets, then Mingyu, Eunji finding out, all your emotions, the fight between Bangchan and Mingyu, and how completely broken you’d been ever since.

Sohee listened, her expression shifting from shock to disbelief. “That’s... insane. I can’t believe Eunji would do something like that.”

“I know.” You gave a small, bitter smile. “That’s why it hurts.”

“And rightfully so. She had no right to interfere in your life or come at you like that.” Sohee leaned on the table, eyes searching yours. “But please, don’t let this kill your spark. Everyone misses you.”

And you missed them too. All of them. Without exception.

“If you must know,” Sohee drawled, cocking her head with a little smirk, “I’d already kind of guessed there was something going on with you and Bangchan.” 

You shot her a look, but she kept going, unbothered. 

“I just figured you’d spill when you were ready. No pressure. Not my circus.” She shrugged, then narrowed her eyes playfully. “But seriously… you do like him, right?”

Your chest tightened. Because the answer was obvious.

Sohee gave you a pointed look, like she could see right through you. “Oh, come on. Don’t give me that I guess it doesn’t matter bullshit.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “It doesn’t.”

“It does.” She leaned in, voice low but firm. “You’re miserable. He’s miserable. And all of this is because of what? Miscommunication and some high school level drama?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “It’s not that simple.”

“Yeah, it kinda is.” She shrugged. “You like him. He clearly likes you. But instead of dealing with it, you ran.”

“That’s not fair—”

Sohee held up a hand. “I’m not saying you didn’t have your reasons. I’m saying that if you keep avoiding it, you’re just gonna hurt yourself more. Let things cool down, sure. But don’t wait until it’s too late.”

You stared at her, words caught in your throat. Because the truth was, you were terrified. Terrified that if you faced him, he’d look at you differently. That the damage was already done.

But another, quieter part of you—the part that still remembered the warmth of his touch, the way he looked at you like you were it for him—wondered if maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late at all.

You were alone in the theater, the crumpled sheets of your solo scattered around you like forgotten love letters. You were dead set on nailing that high note — the heartbreak one, the kind that’s supposed to rip your chest open and bleed on stage. Humming through the first verse, you air-strummed like your life depended on it, lost in the rhythm.

“Am I crashing a rockstar's private concert?” Changbin’s voice broke through your focus, making your head snap up so fast it almost hurt. He was in his basketball jacket, the team logo front and center, and that usual mischievous grin was pulling at his mouth. He stepped closer, then plopped down next to you on the edge of the stage like he belonged there. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re fine.” You flashed him a crooked little smile as you scooped up the sheets from the floor. “I’ll just pretend you weren’t suspiciously wandering the theater.”

“Busted.” He lifted both hands in mock surrender. “What can I say? If you hadn’t pulled a full-on undercover mission and vanished from campus, I wouldn’t have to play detective just to track you down.”

You shot him a look. “Busted.”

His smile softened a bit, but it didn’t reach his usual brand of easy humor. Changbin had always been the steady one — loyal to Bangchan, to the whole group really. But right now, there was something quieter in him, like he’d pocketed the jokes for later.

And even though you kept your expression cool, you felt it too — the weight of whatever he wasn’t saying yet. “The guys miss you, you know that, right?”

His voice was casual, but it landed heavier than he probably meant it to. You dragged in a breath, sharp like it might actually clear out the guilt clogging your chest. 

Spoiler: it didn’t. You’d gone ghost on them, the second life got messy, and there was no pretending otherwise.

Before you could open your mouth, probably to spit out some lame excuse, Changbin raised a hand like he could see it coming from a mile away. “And no, before you even ask, he didn’t send me,” he said, shooting you a knowing look. “Didn’t even bring you up. But it wasn’t rocket science, you know? Mingyu stormed off, then Chan showed up looking like he lost a bar or something.”

You winced. “Bin… I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” He shook his head, like that wasn’t what he came here for. “This isn’t a guilt trip, alright? Whatever Mingyu pulled, he had it coming. Trust me, no one’s crying over him.”

A pause. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

You straightened up, catching the shift in his tone. Less playful, more real. The kind of real that you couldn’t dodge even if you wanted to.

“I’m just—look, I’m just trying to knock some sense into both of you,” Changbin went on, like he’d been carrying this around too long. “I don’t know all the details, and honestly? I don’t need to. But I do know my best friend’s been walking around like the lights are on, but nobody’s home.”

Your chest tightened, the words slipping past your guard way too easily.

“And I’m not saying this to dump it on you, okay? I swear,” he added, catching your expression before you could speak. “It’s just... he’s a mess. And it’s not just the basketball thing, or the usual stress — it’s you. He misses you. Bad.”

The way he said it — simple, no drama, no exaggeration — hit you harder than any speech could’ve.

And you hated it. You hated that part of you wanted to hear it. You hated that it hurt more than you expected. Because deep down, you already knew.

“I’m only doing this because he’s my guy,” Changbin started, running a hand through his hair like this whole conversation weighed more than he let on. “Chan’s always been the one to clean up after the rest of us, you know? First to show up with advice or some half-baked plan to save the day.”

You tilted your head, a small smile sneaking onto your lips despite yourself. Classic Chan.

Changbin caught it, and his own grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, softer this time. “Yeah, exactly. And when he met you? Man, it was like someone turned the lights on in his head. Swear to God, I’ve never seen him like that. He was just... lighter.”

The way he said it twisted something in your chest, but you held his gaze, letting him finish.

“What I’m saying is,” he went on, “even if you two don’t go back to being, like, whatever you were before—” he waved a vague hand between you, “—at least talk to him. He’s stuck in that ‘she hates me, so I better give her space’ spiral, and you know how Chan is. He’ll bury it to do what’s best for you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how much that stung. “Wait... so he doesn’t hate me?”

Changbin actually laughed at that, a real, rough-around-the-edges laugh. “Hate you? Please. I don’t think that man has it in him, even if he tried.”

Your fingers tangled together, fidgeting without you meaning to. The truth slipped out before you could stop it. “I care about him. I really do.”

“Yeah,” Changbin said simply, no teasing this time, just plain fact. “I know you do. And I know you’ll figure this out.”

After a beat of quiet, Changbin pushed himself up, casually brushing nonexistent dust off his jersey like he’d just wrapped up something way more dramatic than a heart-to-heart.

“Thanks, Binnie,” you said, flashing him a crooked smile as he gave you an overly formal little bow.

He started toward the door but paused right at the exit, glancing back over his shoulder with that familiar spark in his eye. “You know I love you, right? But if you mess with my best friend’s heart, I will write the nastiest diss track you’ve ever heard. Full production. No skips.”

That earned a laugh out of you, real and warm. “Gonna throw in choreography too?”

He smirked like you’d just dared him to. “Obviously. Backup dancers and everything."

And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall, his voice echoing back as he called out, “You’re not getting off that easy!”

And just like that, you were alone again—surrounded by a whole storm of thoughts you weren’t quite ready to untangle.

You’d swallowed that whole conversation with Changbin like it was a bad shot of cheap tequila — still burning in your chest, still impossible to forget. And yet, life rolled on, dragging you with it while you kept trying to figure out when the hell would be the right time to talk to Bangchan.

Problem was, the whole thing still felt like an open wound — not bleeding anymore, but definitely not ready for anyone to poke at it either.

Sohee was in your new room, fussing with the straps of her dress in front of the mirror. The place wasn’t as roomy as the one you used to share with her and Eunji, but it did the job.

“I talked to Eunji," Sohee said, swiping mascara on with laser focus. "Well — argued is probably the more accurate term. She wouldn’t even let me finish when I tried to tell her she was being a bitch."

You were sprawled across your bed, cozy in your oldest, softest pajamas, like this whole conversation wasn’t tying your stomach in knots.

"I didn’t want you two fighting because of me," you muttered, playing with the hem of your sleeve.

Sohee whipped around, one eye still missing eyeliner but her energy fully charged. “Please. I’m morally allergic to bullshit. What she did was a straight-up foul. And until she figures out how to act like a halfway decent human being, maybe it’s time we put that friendship on ice.”

You sighed, a tangled mess of guilt and low-key relief knotting in your chest. "Yeah, well... it still kinda sucks."

“Everyone’s gotta make their own choices…” Sohee went back to her makeup like it was no big deal, but then spun around again, narrowing her eyes at you. “Speaking of choices… you’re really not going to the game? It’s the final. Literally, everyone’s gonna be there.”

You let out an exaggerated sigh and flopped onto the pillows like your life depended on it.

“Yeah, hard pass. Not in the mood to humiliate myself in public, thanks.”

“Girl, come on,” Sohee groaned. “This is your perfect excuse to finally talk to Bangchan and fix things. I know he’d love to see you there, especially at his last game this semester.”

You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know… Feels like showing up would just make it worse.”

Sohee snapped the mascara shut like it personally offended her. “Stubborn as hell, I swear. Fine. Just—promise me you won’t do something you’re gonna regret later, alright?”

“I know, I know,” you waved her off, a little smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll figure it out when the time’s right. Go have fun, kiss your boyfriend, and drink an unreasonable amount of beer in my honor.”

She grabbed her bag off the bed, but before heading out, she paused at the door and shot you a final look over her shoulder. “Last chance. Are you sure you’re staying?”

“Yeah. Have fun at the game,” you said, forcing a half-smile.

Sohee shrugged like she’d expected that answer. “Alright… I tried. Don’t say I didn’t.” She shot you a quick grin over her shoulder as she headed out. “Catch you later!”

As the minutes dragged on, boredom hit you like a brick. Your brain was way too wired to even think about running lines for the play. You tried putting on a movie, but you zoned out every five minutes and had to keep rewinding just to figure out what the hell was going on.

That’s when you decided: screw it. Time to hit the campus café and drown your existential crisis in hot chocolate and maybe the most sugar-loaded cupcake you could get your hands on. Comfort food therapy, top tier.

You threw on some cute but cozy clothes, something to shake off the emotional slump clinging to you like a bad ex. Skirt, sweater, your trusty boots — the holy trinity.

The second you stepped outside, it felt like the whole weather system had joined your pity party. What started as a light breeze had upgraded to full-blown dramatic gusts, and the sky was throwing major moody vibes with all those gloomy gray clouds.

The cafeteria was basically a ghost town. No surprise there — most people were off hyping up the basketball final, the very game everyone had been pushing you to go to. But showing up last-minute just to cause a scene was so not your style. If you were going to fix things, you’d do it on your own terms, not crash the party like some soap opera twist.

Inside, the café was warm but dead quiet. The staff looked just as miserable as you felt, probably counting down the seconds till they could ditch work and catch the game too. You kind of felt bad for bothering them. Kind of. But hey, desperate times. Your soul needed sugar before life threw another plot twist your way.

You went for the hot chocolate — obvious choice — and threw in a slice of strawberry sponge cake for good measure. Not exactly a gourmet pairing, but at this point, flavor combos were the least of your problems.

You slid into the table by the window, pulling out your phone like it could somehow save you from your own restless brain. 

Sohee had just posted a story: her, Minho, and Felix, all grins and mid-cheers. Typical. You kept scrolling, letting the endless stream of everyone else’s highlight reel wash over you. Felix, Jisung, and Hyunjin had apparently hit up a barbecue place recently, and yeah — that one stung. Hard. Like a punch right in the ribs, just above where you’d been keeping all your unresolved guilt.

Brilliant. Love that for me.

“Hey.”

The voice snapped you out of your spiral so fast you damn near fumbled your phone like it was evidence in a crime. Guiltily, you locked the screen and glanced up.

Mingyu stood there, iced coffee in hand, wearing that soft, easy smile.

“Hi…” you answered, a little awkward. He hadn’t exactly been on your recent contact list either.

"Can I sit?" He gestured at the chair across from you. "I won’t take up too much of your time, scout’s honor."

You nodded, curiosity getting the better of you. Might as well — it’s not like you were killing it at the whole “alone with your thoughts” thing anyway.

“You kinda vanished,” Mingyu said as he set his coffee down and folded his arms casually over the table. “Haven’t seen you around at all.”

You let out a humorless little laugh, more of a scoff really. “Didn’t exactly feel like I had a choice.”

“I see,” Mingyu exhaled, slow and steady, like he was gearing up to unload something heavy. “Look, I’m really sorry about everything. Honestly. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, coming out swinging at Bangchan like that.” He shook his head, as if still baffled by his own actions. “That’s not me. At all. And I’m sorry for dragging you into the mess.”

Well. That was... unexpectedly nice of him.

You weren’t sure what you’d expected — maybe some half-baked excuse or him brushing it off — but an actual, straight-up apology? Kind of refreshing.

“I should’ve seen it, you know?” He gave a small, hollow laugh. “The way he looked at you... yeah, it was pretty obvious. Can’t really blame the guy.”

There was a flicker of something in his smile, something resigned and maybe a little bit sad.

 “I’m sorry for hurting you,” you added, softer this time.

He shrugged, a wry twist to his lips. “No need. Things happen the way they’re supposed to, right? We had a good run. And well... I guess that’s it.”

“No hard feelings?” he asked, reaching his hand across the table like he was closing a deal.

You didn’t even hesitate — you took it, gave it a firm squeeze. “No hard feelings.”

“Right.” He nodded, like it was the final period of a sentence. Then he got up, grabbed his coffee, and shot you a parting smile. “I—I just hope you’re happy.”

And just like that, Mingyu walked out through the glass doors, disappearing across campus like he was just another passerby in your life. It wasn’t until the door swung shut behind him that his words really hit you, settling deep in your stomach like a lead weight.

I hope you’re happy.

And you weren’t happy. Not even close.

The brutal truth? You had no one to blame but yourself. Every twist, every wrong turn, it all traced back to your own fear, your own hesitation. If you’d been just a little braver — if you’d let people in instead of keeping them at arm’s length — maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe you’d be happy.

The cruel part? It took hearing it from Mingyu to finally see it for what it was. It was always you.

Your half-eaten cake sat abandoned on the table, the hot chocolate cooling into something sad and forgotten. Without thinking twice, you pushed back your chair and stormed out of the café, straight into the chaos waiting outside.

The wind hit you like a wall, and then, as if the universe was feeling especially theatrical today, fat, icy drops of rain began to fall — fast and merciless.

Karma? Maybe. Challenge accepted.

You didn’t slow down. You ran.

Your biker boots pounded against the slick grass, water splashing up your legs as the rain came down harder, so heavy it blurred the world into a messy watercolor. But you didn’t care. You weren’t stopping now — not when your heart was finally awake after pretending to sleep for so long.

The gym was all the way across campus, of course it was. Far enough that you were completely drenched by the time the courtyard came into view. Your chest heaved with every breath, burning like you’d sprinted through fire instead of rain. Your clothes clung to your skin, soaked to the bone, and your hair stuck to your forehead, your cheeks, your neck — like the rain wanted to wear you down.

But you kept going. You had to get there. No matter how soaked, no matter how late.

You had to.

You squared your shoulders, puffed out your chest like you had a whole army at your back, and stomped straight toward the gym doors. No hesitation. Okay — a little hesitation. Your heart was doing somersaults in your chest, adrenaline crashing into nerves like they were fighting for control.

But you pushed the doors open anyway.

Only to be greeted by... absolutely no one.

Just the janitor, casually mopping the far end of the court like this was any other boring Saturday.

Your pulse stumbled, like it tripped over itself. No way.

You yanked out your soaked phone, fingers slipping against the drenched screen, and checked the time. Way too late. The game had ended — you’d missed it. They were probably already at some bar downing cheap drinks and yelling over greasy plates of fries, and here you were, a walking raincloud with nothing to show for it.

Your thumb hovered over Sohee’s number, ready to call, beg, something — but before you could hit the dial, a voice cut through the empty court.

“Your plan is to flood the gym or what?”

Your heart flat-out stopped.

Slowly, you turned, every inch of you shivering from the rain and a healthy dose of panic.

Bangchan.

He was right there, leaning against the entrance like he hadn’t just flipped your entire internal system upside down. His hair was a mess of wet strands, some falling over his forehead in a way that should’ve been illegal.

Your mouth went dry, brain buffering like a bad connection.

"I'm... um... a little soaked," you managed, glancing down at yourself and the puddle spreading beneath your feet. A tremor ran through you, part chill, part nerves, leaving your words thin and shaky.

Bangchan gave a quiet, amused breath — almost a laugh, but softer — before he started walking toward you.

It was only then, as he drew closer, that you really saw him. His hair had grown longer, the damp curls now brushing the nape of his neck, framing his face in a way that felt painfully unfair. Draped over his shoulders was a black jacket, the kind that made him look like he’d stepped right off a movie scene.

"What are you doing here?" Bangchan’s voice cut through the hollow echo of the gym, roughened by surprise but threaded with something deeper.

With one simple movement, he removed the jacket from his shoulders and placed it over yours. You gulped, the words knotting in your throat. "I—I'm leaving," you managed, barely above a whisper.

"You're leaving?" His brows pulled together, like the thought alone caused him genuine pain.

Instinctively, you took a step back, clutching his jacket tighter around your soaked frame. Coward. Even now, even with him standing right in front of you, you were slipping into old habits, retreating when you should be reaching out.

Bangchan tilted his head, eyes flicking over your rain-soaked figure. "You really think I’m gonna buy that? After you ran through a damn storm to get here?" His voice was low, rough around the edges, but his gaze was soft.

Your throat felt like it was closing in on itself, your breath turning shallow and uneven. "I thought the game was still on," you confessed, your voice small, almost childlike.

"It ended early," he said, his tone softening. "Thunderstorm warning." He gestured toward the windows, where the rain continued to batter the glass in relentless sheets. "Most people cleared out fast. But I stayed behind."

Why? you wanted to ask. But maybe you didn’t need to — his eyes already told you everything you needed to know.

"You stayed," you echoed, almost in disbelief, as if saying it aloud would make it real.

He stepped closer, his gaze dipping to your hands, which clung to his jacket like it was the only thing keeping you afloat. When his eyes met yours again, something flickered in them — something deep and quiet, something that felt dangerously close to hope.

Bangchan’s gaze didn’t waver. "You came here for a reason," he said, his voice rough at the edges. "So stop pretending you didn’t."

Your heart twisted painfully, tangled in the unsaid. The truth clawed at your chest, desperate to surface. I wanted to see you. I wanted to stop running.

"I..." But your voice trembled, fragile as glass stretched too thin.

Bangchan’s expression softened, like he could see straight through the façade, like he saw every crack you were trying to hide. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached up and brushed a damp strand of hair from your cheek. His fingers were warm against your chilled skin, and despite yourself, you leaned into his touch.

"You’re freezing," he murmured.

"I'm fine," you lied, even as your body betrayed you with a violent shiver.

A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Liar."

"I need to ask you something," you said, your voice tighter than you wanted. "That night on the beach… were you serious? About everything you said?"

His expression twisted, disbelief written all over him. “Really? Really? Don’t waste my time pretending you don’t know.”

You let out a breath, sharp through your nose. Fair enough. But you had to say it, get it off your chest before it ate you alive.

"I messed it all up," you admitted, the words tumbling out. "I kept telling myself I didn’t care what people thought, like I was above all that crap. But it turns out I care. Way more than I should. And that fear? It had me choking on my own feelings."

You risked a glance at him. He was watching you like you were the only thing left in the world worth looking at. No interruptions, no sarcastic quips — just quiet focus.

"I mean, you were— God, you were so good to me," you kept going, voice thick with regret. "And I think I freaked out because I’d already fallen for you way before I let myself admit it. Like, properly fallen. And that scared the hell out of me because I never thought I’d actually… like you. Not like this."

Your throat tightened, a painful lump that wouldn’t go away. "I liked everything. Being around you. Talking to you. Even the way you annoyed me." you smiled softly.

Your eyes stung, tears slipping free, but you kept going like you couldn’t stop. "I hate what I did to you. I hate that I messed this up beyond fixing it. And I know it’s too late... yeah. I get it. I understand."

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, words tumbling out too fast. "I just needed you to know, before I go — I’m sorry. For everything. You didn’t deserve any of it."

Your breath hitched, but you met his eyes anyway — full on, no flinching. "I’m so sorry."

Tears blurred your vision as you crossed the court toward the exit, not even bothering to shield yourself from the rain. What was the point? You were already soaked, inside and out.

You let out a choked sob, hating yourself for being such a coward — for always running when it mattered most.

“Wait—” Bangchan’s voice cut through the downpour, rough and almost swallowed by the storm.

You froze, eyes narrowing against the sheets of rain, blinking fast to see through the water streaming down your face.

“Wait," he called out again, sharper now, like the rain itself had finally lit a fuse. "What gives you the right to drop that on me and just walk away?” His anger was written all over him, carved deep into the lines of his face.

"What?" you shot back, breath catching, but the storm swallowed your voice, forcing you to yell just to be heard.

Bangchan raked a hand through his soaked hair, slicking it back as he stepped closer, chest rising fast, like he couldn’t breathe right with you this far away. "You’re running," he said, rough and tight. "Running from me. From us. Again."

And hell, he wasn’t wrong.

"Everything I’ve done," he said, the words rough-edged and raw, "since the second I met you — it’s been about you. Always you." He caught his breath, like saying it out loud made it real. "Because I wanted you. More than anything."

The confession hit like a punch to the ribs, sharp and breath-stealing.

"Since Hyunjin introduced us and you barely noticed I existed," he kept going, like he couldn’t stop now. "Since you breezed right past me without a second thought. Since you crashed into my life and wrecked every single thing I thought I had figured out."

Your heart was beating out of rhythm, too fast for your own body to keep up, like it was trying to outrun the storm — or maybe run straight to him.

"You don’t get to stand there and tell me it’s too late," Bangchan shouted over the rain, his voice tearing through the downpour like it had something to prove. His eyes burned so bright, it almost hurt to look at him. "Not when I’ve been standing here this whole time, heart wide open, just waiting for you to see me."

His chest heaved, rain sliding off him like he didn’t even notice, like all he could see was you. "I’ve been waiting for you," he said, softer this time, but it was the kind of softness that carried weight. Heavy. Unshakable. "So if you want me — really want me — you’ve got to say it. I need to hear you say it."

The storm raged around you, but it felt like the eye of it had landed right here, right between the two of you. Your pulse throbbed in your ears, every muscle strung so tight you could barely breathe.

This was terrifying. This was exhilarating. This was everything you had been too scared to want.

Your lips parted, but for a heartbeat, all you could do was try to swallow the lump in your throat. Then, steadying your breath, you let a small, shaky smile tug at the corner of your mouth. A flicker of defiance, maybe even a little hope.

"Bangchan," you said, your voice rough but sure, "there’s never been anyone else. It’s only ever been you."

There wasn’t a second of hesitation when your lips found his — only the wild, breathless certainty of two people who had run out of ways to pretend they didn’t need this.

The desperation between you felt electric, almost feverish, like your skin couldn’t decide if it was burning or freezing in the rain. You’d never felt anything like it — like the whole world had finally spun off its axis and was crashing headfirst into this moment. Into him.

When his hands, just as cold and trembling as yours, cupped your face like he was terrified you might slip away, you gasped, a sharp breath of shock and longing tangled together. Bangchan made you feel reckless. Young. Like you were caught in the middle of one of those ridiculous romance high-school movies you always scoffed at, the kind where the girl lifts her leg during the kiss — and for once, you understood why.

This kiss, soaked to the bone and laced with every scrap of resentment and longing, felt like proof. Proof that what you had wasn’t just real, but unstoppable.

You clung to him like he was the only thing anchoring you to the earth, fingers fisting in his drenched shirt as the rain poured over you both, careless and wild. And still, beneath the chaos, something pure unfurled in your chest — something terrifyingly beautiful, raw and undeniable.

Bangchan kissed you like he was starving, like he had been starving for you. He deepened the kiss, tasting every inch of you like it had haunted him in dreams and in every quiet, aching moment you’d spent apart.

It wasn’t new, this hunger — you’d felt it before. But tonight, in this storm, in his arms, it felt entirely different. Like you’d finally let yourself give in to the fire you’d been dancing around for far too long.

How you ended up sprinting down the hallway with soaked shoes that squeaked like a bad joke didn’t even matter at this point. Thunder growled overhead like it was personally offended by your existence, and Bangchan was fumbling with the dorm keys like his life depended on it.

“Could you not kill the key while you’re at it?” you shot at him, half breathless, half laughing despite the anxiety twisting in your stomach.

“I'm trying, damn it,” he muttered, jamming the key into the lock with a speed that was both impressive and completely ridiculous.

The door finally gave in, and the two of you stumbled inside, drenched to the bone. The room was dim, only lit by the bruised grey daylight leaking through the window, and for a second, the world just... stopped spinning so fast.

You didn’t even think about it. Your hand found his face like it belonged there — like you were tracing something ancient and sacred, a statue carved by the gods, Apollo himself if Apollo wore wet hair and a breathless grin. Your thumb brushed his cheekbone, and you caught yourself smiling, then sinking your teeth into your lip to hold it back.

Bangchan swore under his breath, like your touch was enough to short-circuit his whole system. He closed his eyes for half a heartbeat, then caught your hand in his, holding it like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I missed you…” you admitted, your voice low and honest, like the words had been burning a hole in your lungs.

Bangchan’s breath hitched. He caught your hand gently, his fingers wrapping around yours like he was scared you might vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough. His eyes — god, his eyes — they searched your face like you were something holy, like every answer he’d ever wanted was written in the curve of your smile.

He kissed your knuckles, slow and passionate, and that tiny gesture nearly undid you. The way he was looking at you sent a shiver down your spine. Tears pricked behind your eyes, not from sadness, but from the insane, overwhelming relief of finally feeling. Like your chest had cracked open and light was pouring in, fierce and free.

And damn, it felt so, so good to finally breathe again.

The best part, freedom didn’t need an invitation — it just showed up, slipped right between you two like it belonged there all along.

And then, his lips found yours. No hesitation, no second-guessing, just there — warm and certain and carrying every shred of doubt far, far away. If those questions still existed, you sure as hell weren’t looking for them.

Bangchan kissed you like he knew. Like he knew exactly how long you’d been waiting for this, and he wasn’t about to ruin it with panic or rush. He was careful, but not shy — calculated without making it feel forced, a perfect balance of hunger and restraint that made your heart stutter in your chest.

This wasn’t reckless. No, this was something else entirely. This felt like he was handling something precious, like you were made of glass and he wasn’t sure if you’d shatter or melt in his hands. Maybe a bit of both.

Your arms looped around his neck, a familiar move, but now it felt charged. You’d always been secretly obsessed with how he towered over you, how his presence alone seemed to wrap around you like a second skin. Like gravity had picked favorites and he was yours.

Without even breaking the kiss, you found the hem of his drenched T-shirt, fingers brushing over cool skin as you tugged it upward. He caught the hint, helping you pull it over his head in one smooth motion before tossing it somewhere behind him like it didn’t matter — because it didn’t.

The jacket he’d draped over your shoulders slipped to the floor with a quiet thud. Your lips were still tangled in his, tasting rain and fire and something dangerously close to forever. Every brush of your mouth against his felt like a spark in a storm, friction building and building until you were certain you’d catch flame.

You didn’t know how long you’d been kissing him, and honestly? You didn’t care. All you knew was this moment — soaked skin, racing pulse, and the wild, breathless certainty that whatever this was between you, it was finally, finally real.

Before he even thought about sitting down, Bangchan stripped off every soaked, useless layer like it personally offended him. His shirt hit the floor with a wet splat, followed by the rest, and then he dropped onto the edge of the bed like he owned the damn place — which, technically, he did, but still.

You stood between his knees, and for a second, it felt like the air got thinner.

Slowly — painfully slowly, because he had to know exactly what he was doing to you — he tugged your skirt lower, knuckles grazing your skin like it was an accident. His fingers made quick work of your boots, then your sweater, all without breaking eye contact. His gaze had this impossible mix: soft but hungry, steady but burning with something you couldn’t quite name. Like you were some kind of inevitable he’d been waiting for without even realizing it.

Without a word, he curled his hand around the back of your thigh and coaxed you onto his lap, like you were gravity and he didn’t stand a chance. You went willingly — of course you did — knees bracketing his hips, your palms finding his shoulders, solid and warm beneath your hands.

He hovered at your mouth, maddeningly close but not quite there. A ghost of a smile played at the corners of his lips, easily teasing you.

His breath skimmed yours, electric and careful, until finally his lips brushed over yours, so light you almost convinced yourself you imagined it. His hands tightened at your waist, fingers sinking into your skin like he needed you closer. Like breathing wasn’t enough anymore.

The room fell into this heady, perfect silence, just the sound of your breathing, uneven and shallow, and the rain tapping against the window like it was keeping rhythm.

Your voice barely rose above a whisper, but it carried all the weight in the world. “Can we just freeze this?” you asked, your eyes tracing every line of his face like you were afraid it might vanish. “Right here, right now. Forever.”

You felt him shiver beneath your fingertips — or maybe it was you. Hard to tell anymore. His answer was the way he kissed you like yes. Like hell yes.

Bangchan let out a low, rough sound, like you’d just stolen the last ounce of self-control he had left. His mouth trailed along your jawline, barely-there kisses that felt like they were searing into your skin.

Normally, he was the one filling the space with words — teasing, coaxing, making you dizzy with how easily he could wreck you. But tonight, you wanted him to feel it. To really feel it. Not just in his head, but in his bones.

You cupped his face between your palms, your thumbs brushing the damp heat of his cheeks. God, he looked at you like you were the whole damn galaxy — like he’d waited light-years for this exact moment. And you traced your fingertip along his parted lips. He didn’t even hesitate; he kissed your fingerprint like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I’m yours,” you breathed, your voice barely louder than the rain tapping at the window — but it hit him like thunder all the same.

He froze, like your words had short-circuited every nerve in his body. His chest rose on a sharp inhale, his eyes drinking you in like you were the only thing keeping him alive. “I’ll always be,” you whispered, like a vow only he was meant to hear. 

His eyes softened, something raw flickering in them, right before you kissed him — full of every unspoken promise, fearless and certain, like you were stitching your heart straight into his mouth.

His hands found your waist, grounding you, as he shifted you effortlessly to the center of the bed. His lips brushed your neck, making you shiver all over again.

“My heart is yours,” he said softly, his lips brushing your skin like he was confessing a secret. “I’m all yours.” His words melted into kisses — first at your lips, then your cheek, and finally at that place beneath your ear that made your breath hitch.

You couldn’t help it. You laughed, breathless and a little reckless. He grinned against your throat, like he liked you like this — alive, teasing him back.

For a heartbeat, you just looked at him. At this man who somehow made the world quiet and loud all at once. Like maybe, just maybe, life could actually be this simple.

“God, you’re so beautiful…” he said, brushing a damp strand of hair away from your face, his fingers cradling your chin. His gaze dipped to your lips, dark with hunger. “Wanna touch you everywhere…”

His hand slid to the curve of your neck, making your eyes flick up in challenge.

“Make you feel so good,” he added, voice rough with intent.

You bit your lip, settled deeper into his lap, and gave him your signature smirk. “Then what are you waiting for?”

He didn’t need an invitation twice.

The kiss deepened, turned heady and hungry, but never rushed. Bangchan’s fingers toyed with the side of your panties, lazy and teasing, like he had all the time in the world to drive you insane. He hooked his finger under the edge, barely grazing your skin — just enough to send a sharp, electric pulse through your entire body.

There was heat, sure. A wildfire between you, no doubt. But underneath it, something steadier, something that felt terrifyingly like eternity. He wasn’t rushing it. He wasn’t just touching you to have you — he was memorizing you. Worshipping, almost.

“I want you,” you breathed in his mouth, voice rough around the edges, like it had been sanded down to the truth.

He didn’t waste a second. Quick, practiced, a little frantic but still smiling that lazy half-smile of his as he reached for protection, slipping it on in record time, like every second apart was unbearable.

You shifted your knees, adjusting for him — for both of you — and his eyes darkened like you’d just flipped a switch. He tugged the last stubborn scrap of fabric away, his hands lingering like he couldn’t quite let it go.

Without thinking, without hesitating, you sank down onto him, the movement natural, inevitable, like your bodies already knew this rhythm by heart. A gasp escaped you both, caught somewhere between surprise and relief.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, not for balance, but because you needed to hold on to something real — and he was the only thing that felt like solid ground.

Bangchan buried his face in the crook of your neck, lips warm and wet against your skin, like he couldn’t get close enough. Like he wanted to taste every inch of you, commit you to memory, down to the last shiver.

You moved against him slowly at first, like you wanted to feel every single second of it — to let it burn through your nerves until it became too much to hold back. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer, anchoring you to him as if he couldn’t stand even a breath of distance.

Every shift of your hips dragged a sound from him, rough and raw, like he was barely holding on. His head fell back for a moment, jaw clenched tight, but then his gaze was back on you — dark, devouring, full of need that felt like it could swallow you whole.

You tried to swallow the sounds tearing out of you, sinking your teeth into your lip, into his shoulder, into whatever you could reach — but it was useless. Every slow thrust made you unravel a little more, made you feel like you were coming apart right around him. He filled you so deep, so perfectly, it felt obscene, like your body was made just to take him.

And he knew it too — the way he moved inside you was relentless, unhurried but devastating, like he wanted to make sure you felt every inch of him, every inch of what he was doing to you.

And he wasn’t any steadier.

He fought to hold himself together, but the moans kept breaking free, rough and desperate. He was lost in the delirium of being buried deep inside you, of feeling you stretch and clench around him like you were made to take him. The way you took him, so eager and tight, had his control fraying fast.

He was pulsing with need, every second of restraint twisting into something almost unbearable — too good, too much, almost painful in its pleasure.

His hand slid up to your hair, fingers threading through before he tugged it aside to expose your neck. His mouth found your skin without hesitation — warm, open kisses trailing along your pulse, his tongue tasting the sweat-slick heat of you. 

He worked his way down your neck, lips brushing teasingly over every inch of your sensitive skin. At your chest, he paused, let his tongue explore the soft skin there, coaxing a sharp gasp from you as your body reacted without thinking. He wanted to ruin you with his mouth, to taste every inch until you were dripping for him, until the only thing you could think about was how good he felt owning you like this.

You found your rhythm together, perfectly in sync, like you’d been built for this. Built for him. Each roll of your hips sent a fresh wave of need spiraling through your veins, building, tightening, pulling you both closer to the edge. His hands held you like he couldn’t bear to let go, his touch rough but reverent, worshipping every inch of you.

The room felt molten, the air thick with heat and desire. Moans tangled between you, breathless and desperate, until all you could hear was the storm outside and the sound of your bodies moving together.

"Can’t get enough of you—fuck—" Bangchan’s voice tore out of him, rough and wrecked, words slipping into broken sounds as his hips snapped into yours, chasing the high with a desperation that felt like it might kill him.

Sweat and rainwater dripped down his skin, slick between your bodies, his hair clinging damp to his forehead. He looked like sin, like every fantasy you’d ever had but filthier, messier, better.

You crashed your mouth to his, swallowing the ragged moan that escaped him, tasting the heat of it on his tongue.

“Please,” you begged, breath trembling as your lips brushed his. “God, please, just—”

"You feel—fuck," he choked, breath catching hard as you rolled your hips, grinding right where he needed you. His eyes fluttered shut, helpless to the way you squeezed around him.

"Say it," you demanded, your voice all heat and sin, lips brushing his ear like a spark to gasoline.

He groaned, wrecked. "So good, so fucking good, baby, you drive me insane."

Your lips parted on a shaky exhale, your entire body tightening around him. The knot low in your belly twisted, pulling you closer to that breaking point with every relentless thrust. The storm outside thrashed against the windows, but it was nothing compared to the storm inside you.

Your forehead pressed against his, breaths tangling, sweat-slicked skin sliding together as you moved in sync. His gaze burned into you, wild and wrecked, like he couldn’t get enough.

"That's it," he rasped, rough and hungry. His thumb worked your clit in tight, relentless circles, dragging you closer to the edge. "Cum for me, baby. Be my good girl and soak my cock. Let me feel you lose it all over me."

“Fuck, you were made for me,” he rasped, voice thick and raw, every word dripping hunger. His hips snapped into you, fast and relentless, hitting so deep it made your mind spin, had you gasping his name over and over like it was the only thing you knew how to say.

You felt impossibly full, stretched around him to the point of unbearable pleasure, and you craved it — you wanted more, wanted him to take you apart until you were nothing but his.

Bangchan’s hand slid up to your throat, not choking, just holding you there, steady and close, like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you. His other hand gripped your waist tight, dragging you harder onto his cock, like he was chasing something dangerous and beautiful all at once — like he needed to claim every part of you.

“Take every inch of me,” he growled against your skin, his lips hot at your neck as his teeth sank in, just sharp enough to make you shiver. “Fuck—yes, just like that, my perfect fucking girl.”

Your body clamped down on him, another violent wave of pleasure wracking through you as you moved together, desperate and wild. His breath stuttered, sharp and wrecked, his hips jolting hard when you clenched around him again, milking him, pulling a raw, broken moan from deep in his throat.

“Fuck, angel,—” His voice cracked, strangled on a gasp, and then he lost it completely. His hips slammed up into you, rough and frantic, burying himself deep as he spilled inside you with a helpless, guttural sound, like he was unraveling from the inside out.

The second you felt him pulse, you shattered, pleasure crashing through you in devastating waves. Your whole body jerked, trembling in his hold, your mouth falling open on a cry of his name that sounded like both worship and ruin. He groaned through his release, grinding up into you as he emptied himself fully, like he couldn’t stop, like he never wanted to stop.

Even when the aftershocks tore through you both, he kept you tight against him, breathing hard, lips brushing your skin in shaky, reverent kisses. He kissed you like he was trying to swallow your moans, like he was desperate to keep every last sound of you for himself.

Your breath was wrecked, your chest heaving against his as you clung to him, still pulsing around him like you never wanted to let him go.

“Such a perfect little thing for me,” he rasped, dark and tender all at once, “my pretty girl.”

And in his eyes, you swore you saw it — the words he didn’t say yet, thick and heavy and dangerous on the tip of his tongue.

After basically spending the entire weekend barricaded in Bangchan’s apartment — more specifically, in his bed — where you’d thoroughly explored every possible way to kill the mutual longing, you figured it was time to rejoin society. Preferably not looking like you’d just crawled out of a two-day sex coma, but well, damage done.

The perfect excuse arrived in the form of Changbin and the rest of the soccer guys throwing a victory party after their game. They won, obviously — and Bangchan had not let you forget it for even a second. He’d been strutting around the dorm like some smug MVP, dropping lines like, “You’re literally sleeping with the best basketball player, babe. Iconic behavior.”

You were so gone for him it was almost embarrassing. Almost.

It was Sunday night, and looming over you like an anxious little storm cloud was the fact that this was your last week. Final week. Curtain call was Friday, and you were already spiraling.

The panic over your performance felt like it had its own pulse — quick, sharp, and completely unnecessary, considering Hyunjin and Seungmin had basically held your hand and all but screamed, “You’re going to kill it. Stop overthinking.”

Still. Easier said than done.

Although, to be fair, the crippling anxiety had taken a temporary vacation over the last 48 hours — because Bangchan, bless him, had thoroughly, repeatedly, and almost heroically, fucked it right out of you.

Like a true gentleman.

He kept your hand in his the entire walk, fingers tangled like it was the most natural thing in the world. And you couldn't help but smile at the way he casually included you in every plan for the mid-year break. Like he couldn’t imagine doing any of it without you. You didn't even realize how much you needed that feeling until you had it.

When you got to the frat house, the party was already in full swing—music thumping, laughter spilling out into the yard. The moment you two stepped through the door, a few of the basketball guys waved, greeting Bangchan with their usual teasing banter. And, surprisingly, they were actually kind of polite to you. No eye rolls, no snickers. Just the usual ‘Hey, Bangchan’s girl’ vibes. But that was enough.

You’d chosen a dress that was a little daring—tight, short, and definitely not the kind of thing you’d wear to a casual party. But you didn’t mind it. Especially when Bangchan’s leather jacket was draped over your shoulders. It was a nice change, wearing something of his, and you kind of liked how it made you feel like you had a little piece of him with you.

And, of course, he didn’t complain about it. In fact, he was practically glowing, the way he looked at you, like he couldn’t wait to show you off. You could tell he was enjoying the attention, and somehow, that made you want to pull him in closer, just to remind him that yeah, you were his too.

The party was already in full swing when you and Bangchan walked in, fingers laced. When he squeezed your hand like a silent promise, you didn’t think twice about holding tighter.

The music was loud, people were already half-drunk on cheap beer and good vibes, but it was the way your friends froze mid-conversation that really caught your attention.

Changbin’s eyes went wide first, like he’d just seen his parents kissing. “Hold on. Hold on,” he said, pointing between you and Bangchan like he was trying to solve a crime scene. “My two pretty best friends are... doing this now?” He made a vague swirling motion with his finger that you hoped was meant to represent holding hands and not something filthier.

Hyunjin didn’t miss a beat. He scoffed and threw his arm over your shoulder, grinning like the devil himself. “Back off,” he shot back. “She’s my best friend.”

You raised a brow, looking between the two of them. “Okay, can we not make this weird?” you deadpanned, shrugging Hyunjin’s arm off with a smirk. 

Your friends were loving every second. You could see it on their faces — the shared glances, the knowing smirks, like they’d been waiting for this moment longer than you had.

"Honestly," Jisung chimed in from the couch, raising his drink dramatically, "about damn time."

Seungmin just gave you a slow, nodding approval, the corners of his lips barely twitching into a smile. “We had a pool going,” he said, as if that explained everything.

You shot him a playful, but suspicious look. "A pool? Seriously?"

"You're a very predictable couple," Seungmin replied with zero shame.

Bangchan chuckled under his breath, his smile tugging at the corners of his mouth in that way that made your knees go a little traitorous. "Told you they’d figure it out."

You nudged him with your shoulder, smiling but with a touch of sass. “I was kind of hoping for more mystery. You know, make them work for it.”

"Yeah, well," he said, leaning closer so only you could hear, his voice low and warm in your ear, "I’m not that good at pretending I don’t want you."

And just like that, you were the one who had to fight back the stupid, giddy grin threatening to take over your face.

The night rolled on with teasing jokes and too many toasts in the team’s honor, but somewhere between the crowded kitchen and the messy dance floor, you caught Bangchan watching you — like you were the only person in the room worth looking at.

And you looked at him the same way.

You were still breathless from Bangchan’s kiss, your smile stretching so wide it almost hurt. You two were dancing and kissing almost the whole night. When you felt someone step into your line of sight.

You turned, and there she was — Eunji.

Her gaze flicked between you and Bangchan, catching the way he still had his arm slung lazily around your waist like he belonged there (because he did). For a split second, something unreadable passed over her face, but then she forced a smile.

“Hey.” Eunji’s voice was quieter than usual, almost hesitant, as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Congrats on the game. You played really well.”

Bangchan blinked, caught off guard by how soft her tone was. “Uh… thanks,” he said, a little wary.

She shifted her weight, eyes flicking to you for a beat before landing back on him. “Do you think we could talk for a second?” she asked, nodding toward the hallway. “Just us?” Her gaze lingered on you, like she was asking permission. Or daring you to say no.

You shot Bangchan a quick glance. He met your eyes with quiet understanding and gave you a little nod, squeezing your hand before letting go.

Curiosity pulled you to follow her.

In the quieter corner of the frat, Eunji took a breath like she was gearing up for something heavy. 

“Look, I probably don’t have the right to even ask you to listen,” she began, voice tight. “But I need to say this.”

You didn’t move. Arms crossed, not hostile — just careful. “Okay. Say it.”

She nodded, like that tiny bit of permission gave her permission to fall apart.

"I was jealous," she admitted, the words tumbling out too fast, like they’d been bottled up for too long. "It’s stupid, I know. But it felt like you had everything — both of the hot guys," she gave a bitter, awkward laugh, "while I had no one. And it got in my head. Made me ugly inside. I hated how small I felt next to you."

Her honesty was disarming. You hadn’t expected her to just lay it out like that.

"I guess I thought," she went on, voice wobbling, "if I could tear you down, maybe I’d feel less... invisible. But it didn’t work. It only made me feel worse. And I am sorry. I’m sorry for how I treated you."

You searched her expression, looking for cracks, for any sign of performance — but what you saw was genuine. Flawed, but real.

You studied her face. No defenses. Just raw regret and maybe a little shame. For the first time, she looked like someone trying to unlearn the worst parts of herself.

You tilted your head. “Is this because of Sohee?”

Her head jerked up. “No,” she said quickly, eyes wide. “This isn’t damage control. This is me... finally being honest.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. Finally, you let out a breath.

"I can’t speak for everyone," you said honestly, thinking of your friends who had long since cut ties with her. "But for me... I need more time. You hurt me, Eunji. Really hurt me. And that’s not something I can forget overnight."

Eunji’s eyes shimmered, but she didn’t argue. She nodded slowly, lips pressed together like she was holding back a hundred other apologies. “That’s fair,” she whispered. “And... I’m happy for you. And Bangchan. You look really happy.”

You didn’t say thank you. But you didn’t walk away, either.

And maybe that was enough — for now.

Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked away, her figure disappearing back into the noise of the party. You stayed there for a beat, letting the moment settle in your chest, then spun on your heel and made a beeline for Bangchan.

He caught sight of you immediately, his whole face lighting up like you were the only thing that mattered in the room. "Hey," he said, pulling you back into his arms like you were gravity itself. "Everything okay?"

You slipped your arms around his neck, your heart finally settling. "Yeah."

His grin went lazy and warm, and he kissed you again, slow and certain, like you were home.

You were pretty sure your organs were about to revolt — heart somewhere in your throat, stomach twisted in knots, lungs forgetting how to breathe. Your hands trembled as you peeked through the velvet curtain, catching a glimpse of the packed house. First row, all family. Behind them, a blur of students, teachers, and more faces than you wanted to count.

Seungmin was adding the final touches to his makeup with clinical calm, while Hyunjin stretched dramatically in the corner like he was about to run a marathon instead of hitting the stage.

You were ready — or as ready as someone could be when standing on the edge of a dream. The makeup they had given you was soft, radiant. Perfect for Seulgi — the wild, bright, untamable girl you’d spent months breathing life into. A character made of longing and light, all wild heart and messy hope. You’d love her instantly.

And tonight, you were going to give her everything.

Then, right on cue, you felt him — warm arms sliding around your waist, steady and grounding, a kiss pressed to the top of your head like a silent anchor in the storm.

You leaned into him without thinking, soaking in the calm he carried like it was oxygen.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you, his grin wide and full of awe. “My girl’s a star.”

And for a moment, everything stilled — nerves, noise, the chaos behind the curtain — like the whole world was holding its breath just for you.

You felt your face flush, your cheeks burning in that dizzying, weightless way that only came when someone made you feel so properly, soul-deep loved that it scrambled your entire system.

“I’m so nervous, I think I might faint,” you whispered, pressing a trembling hand to your stomach. The silky fabric of your dress did nothing to calm the storm underneath.

You peeked through the curtain again, heart stuttering at the packed audience. It looked endless. A sea of eyes. A million possible failures.

Bangchan gently cupped your chin, coaxing your gaze away from the chaos and back to him — steady, warm, certain.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and fierce in that quiet way of his. “You’re gonna walk out there and blow their minds. There’s not a single universe where this doesn’t go amazing — because it’s you. And you’re the best.”

It was stupid, how quickly your throat tightened. How fast your chest got all shaky, like his words had knocked the air clean out of your lungs. You blinked hard, refusing to let the tears fall and mess up the makeup Nahee had so carefully painted on you.

“Stop,” you whispered, biting back a wobbly smile. “You’re gonna make me cry and then everyone’s gonna think my character dies in act one.”

He laughed, quiet and warm, and you took a shaky breath. Because suddenly, you wanted to say something that had been burning at the edges of your mind for days.

You wanted to leap, to risk it all.

“Bangchan, I—”

“Guys! It’s time!” Miss Baek’s voice cut through the moment like a bell, bright and urgent as she clapped her hands, motioning everyone to gather backstage.

You stepped back, breath caught, the confession stuck in your throat. But you weren’t ready to let go of him just yet, so instead of finishing your sentence, you reached for his hand and pulled him into the small circle forming around the cast and crew.

Miss Baek stood in the center, her eyes gleaming with pride. “All right, everyone,” she said, voice a little breathless with excitement. “This is it. You’ve worked hard for this show. Now go out there and own it. I trust you — every single one of you. So... break a leg.”

You felt Bangchan’s thumb brush over your knuckles again, grounding you.

And even with your nerves still coiled tight in your chest, a flicker of something brighter pushed through — like maybe you could do this. Maybe you were ready.

Especially with him right there, holding your hand like he never planned to let go.

The curtain rose slowly and steady, gliding open with a faint hum that made your pulse spike. Lights warmed the stage with a golden hue, soft and rich, like the first rays of sun spilling through a window on a quiet morning. The theater was silent — not the heavy, awkward kind of quiet, but the kind that buzzed with anticipation. Like everyone was holding their breath at the same time.

And then Seungmin stepped into the light.

Dressed in his costume — something timeless and simple — he looked completely at ease, the softest confidence in his posture as he took his place center stage. No theatrics. No build-up. Just him. And then he opened his mouth to sing.

It was like the world paused.

His voice slipped into the room like silk — clear, effortless, pure in that heart-wrenching kind of way that doesn’t just touch you, but clutches at something deep inside your chest. Notes floated from his mouth like a secret he trusted the whole room to keep. 

Someone in the third row audibly gasped. Someone else sniffled. And no one even cared about hiding it.

You could feel it ripple across the room — the moment where everyone realized this wasn’t just a student play. This was something real. Something alive.

And a huge part of that was Bangchan. He made a real effort to help.

You could see him in the sound booth, lit only by the glow of his equipment. His headset was on, hands gliding over the controls like he was conducting his own invisible symphony. Every rise and fall in Seungmin’s voice was perfectly balanced, wrapped in a sound that felt warm and cinematic.

The reverb was subtle, giving Seungmin's voice the echo of a cathedral without drowning him in it. The background instrumental, faded in at just the right moment, swelled like a heartbeat — quiet and steady — then soared.

The lighting shifted with the rhythm, delicate hues melting from gold to soft blue, and you knew that was Bangchan too. Timing everything. Perfecting everything. Making the show feel bigger than the stage it stood on.

The audience didn’t move. No one dared. It was like they were afraid that even a single breath might break the spell.

And when Seungmin hit the last note — long and gentle, the kind of note that settled into your bones — the silence lingered for one suspended second before the applause burst like a wave, loud and relentless, crashing against the walls of the theater.

You clapped with everyone else, heart pounding, chest full, eyes shining.

And somewhere backstage, you caught Bangchan glancing up from his booth just long enough to shoot you a grin.

As if to say, Yeah. We did that.

It was Act Three.

Your act.

The final, sweeping moment you’d been rehearsing in front of mirrors, empty classes, and late-night voice notes. And now, standing just behind the curtain with the theater buzzing like a live wire around you, it hits you all at once — the weight of it. The lights dimmed, the overture swelled, and your pulse was racing so hard it felt like it might echo through your mic.

You smoothed your dress with slightly trembling hands, eyes darting through the curtain gap to catch a glimpse of the full house. Your chest rose with a shaky inhale. 

“Hey—hey, wait,” a voice said, breathless.

You turned, confused — and there he was.

Wild-eyed, flushed, a little out of breath like he’d just run across the building — and completely not where he was supposed to be. “What are you—? You need to go,” you whispered, eyes wide. “You’re supposed to be in the booth! I’m literally about to go on—”

He didn’t answer. He just grabbed your face and kissed you.

No warning. No hesitation. Just lips on yours like it was the most natural, necessary thing in the world. And everything else — the voices, the music, the sheer panic clawing at your ribcage — melted into static. It was just him. Warm and real and grounding you in a moment that didn’t feel like it could possibly exist in real life.

When he pulled away, he didn’t go far — his forehead pressed to yours, and his hands lingered like he didn’t want to let go just yet.

“Break a leg,” he whispered. Voice low. Serious.

You were about to respond, maybe something witty to cover how stunned you were “Thank—” but then he said it.

“I love you.” He mumbled.

Just like that. No build-up, no performance. Just soft and real and tossed at your feet like a match he was willing to watch burn.

Your breath caught.

You looked up at him, eyes gleaming, lips parted — something in your chest cracked wide open, but the words stayed stuck behind your teeth. Not because you didn’t feel the same. God, you did love him back. But the moment had too much weight, too much emotion, and not enough time.

Someone offstage hissed a frantic “Places!” but neither of you moved.

Instead, you smiled. A little too wide. A little breathless. Tears covering your eyes.

And he got it. He didn’t ask for anything else. 

His entwined fingers slid unhurriedly, inch by inch, until the last touch. Then he backed away like it hurt to leave and vanished into the shadows like he’d never been there at all. 

You wanted to cry — not from sadness, but from the overwhelming weight of it all. Being loved like this, so completely, felt like being wrapped in sunlight after a lifetime of gray. It was terrifying and beautiful and everything in between.

You never expected to fall for Bangchan. Not like this. Not so fully.

But somewhere between the late-night conversations, the lingering looks, and the quiet ways he held space for you, your heart cracked open — and he simply walked in.

And that was it. You were his. And he was already yours.

And then the curtain rose. The light hit your face. And you stepped into it like you were made for it.

And as the first line left your lips, steady and clear, you weren't just playing a part anymore.

You were living it — heart full, eyes bright, and finally, finally, not acting at all.

♡ taglist ― @kenia4 @chrizrizz @meerabmalik @gnabnahcsworld @gncbnahc @jinniejjam @skzworldx @itsacatastrophe-xo @soonie1010 @4ng3l-ch1ld @justwonder113 @tsunderelino @eastjonowhere @lyracarvahall @akindaflora @victoriaaf @ebnabi @wickedbutlovely @bitchysunflower11 @ravengxbss @letrascafeymar @letrascafeymar @twentytwofour @pacha02 @skzaddictsincedebut @strayk1ds143 @micr0c0soms @vixy-vix

[nemisuki]

𐔌 ✧.* ᴘɪxᴇʟꜱ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ || Only he could be needy in minecraft!

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, pure fluff, no smut or angst, short oneshot, dating au, he’s just a lil guy, cute foreshadowing, 391 word count

"What the fuck do you think 'yur doing?"

His gaze breaks away from the computer screen, only to glare back at you — currently snuggled up in his bed, underneath the plush blankets — returning his look with confusion.

Clearly caught off guard by his sudden mood switch, you slowly lower your phone in response.

"Huh— doing what?"

The blonde scoffs, looking at you as if you just committed a crime if not worse.

He spins back around to face the screen, his minecraft avatar sprinting over to your own.

"Why'd you place ya' bed over here and not beside mines, stupid?"

You couldn't hold it in and immediately bursted into laughter.

Only causing him to destroy your in-game bed with a grunt, walking away to place it beside his with a frown.

"What's so damn funny, hah?!"

"N-nothing! You're just cute is all."

You can see the way his shoulders tense from afar — not daring to turn around and meet your teasing gaze — and you knew he must be blushing like a schoolgirl right about now.

Who would've thought he'd be so clingy even in a game?

"I'm not cute, shuddup! Just hurry up and sleep, woman!"

You couldn't stop the giggles, moving your character to lay beside his. Your [fav color] and orange beds squished against each other, and according to him, the only way to sleep in minecraft.

With that, it successfully completes their first night.

It didn't take long for him to get decorating while you went mining, safe to say, it was both surprising — and incredibly impressive — to see the whole house fully refurbished so realistically.

You were a little confused on all the questions he asked though — asking your preferences on every room and design choice — as if trying to understand something greater.

"Oi, do you prefer an open kitchen?"

Your brows furrow with contemplation.

"Hm? Actually yeah, I hate when houses feel cramped, how come?"

He shrugs.

"Nothing much."

It was indeed something much.

Because much to your shock, many years later, you'd be surprised to see just how much the house he built — in real life — would resemble that silly home you both worked on back in highschool.

And yes, he made sure to have an open kitchen.

Guess he got his wish of you sleeping beside him, only this time, in the same bed.

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

ᴀ/ɴ ||| sorry my posting schedule has been weird lately u guys [and for the short works]! im rlly trying to focus on the bkg birthday fic, which is gonna be the next work I post so fyi (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ ɴᴇxᴛ ꜰɪᴄ ||| katsuki bakugo x f!reader (fluff) ᴛᴀɢꜱ ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 @qyuin @sunnyalmighty — ໒꒰ྀི ´๑  ̫๑`  ꒱ྀིა

[thatcryptidinthesea]

So I've been thinking way too hard about the ISAT role!swap aus by @anxiousapplepie (hi! hope you don't mind the tag :]), especially the Housemaiden!Siffrin AU, and I was planning to draw fanart with my ideas but my university assignments have been looming over me *head in hands*. So in the mean time here's all my thoughts rambled out onto paper so maybe they'll stop haunting me while I'm trying to do work.

Starting with some HCs:

• Having depression is an inherently Siffrin trait, the different Sifs just deal with it differently. HM!Sif was able to get access to antidepressants due to being in the House of Dormont, but wasn't able to take them with him when he had to flee from the King's curse. So like OG!Mira, they had to go through their journey unmedicated. Isabeu and Odile's ractions to finding this out was something like

• All Miras are medicated for their anxiety, and most of them were able to have access to their meds throughout their journeys (OG!Mira and T!Mira I'm so sorry but you had to do it scared). F!Mira made double sure she brought her's knowing HM!Siffrin didn't have their's.

• Once T!Bonnie started warming up to and trusting the party, they'd hide behind the others' legs when they didn't want to be seen. Hiding behind Siffrin had the added bonus of being able to hide under his cape.

• When T!Bonnie has had a particularly rough night, they'll go sleep next to Siffrin because they know Sif WILL end up cuddling them in his sleep and it makes them feel safe. <- I imagine a lot of their sibling relationship was built on Bonnie going to Sif and just silently clinging and Sif just letting them and not forcing them to talk.

• C!Odile is the best fusion cook ever. This woman can take any two cuisines and mix them together flawlessly. Even things that arguably should never go together.

Ok now for a character ramble under the cut because Housemaiden!Siffrin is that one character I want to put under the microscope like a beetle. Argh. The angst of being the Universe's walking talking religious contradiction...

There's so much potential for HM!Siffrin's inner struggle with the Change belief. For one thing he doesn't really get to choose how he Changes much, he doesn't really have control over it. You can't decide how you'll be a different person if you have no idea who you originally were. Yet the Change belief has this whole thing about choosing to Change yourself and choosing to leave your past self behind. Can you imagine being Siffrin and being told you have to decide to be a completely different person when the only info you have about yourself are the clothes on your back, your accent and a love for malanga fritters? Meanwhile everyone else can choose to Change however they like because they know who they are and how they can be different, and they get to choose to get rid of the mementos of their past because they still ultimately have the memories if they ever want to go back for whatever reason.

And the fact Sif can't really choose to Change kinda shows in the ways he does decide to change because they're all physical changes. They recut their cloak into a cape, they dyed their hair and then let it regrow, they trade weapons or headgear with Mira. Those are all things that he can actually control, and thus can actually make choices about.

Which also makes me think about how he got the "worst/laziest Housemaiden ever" title. It probably felt to any outside perspective who knew the Change belief that Siffrin wasn't putting in any effort to Change and was instead skirting around the rules by just physically changing. So people started to say he's lazy and not following the belief right, and because Siffrin didn't have an identity he internalised being the Worst Housemaiden Ever as his identity and kind of stopped trying because why bother? Which SUCKS because can you imagine losing literally everything about your home/culture/language/family and then trying to make a new home and identity with another community only to be told by that community "hey you're terrible at this actually"? That's awful. Siffrin can probably never really feel truly, confidently part of the Change belief because they were alienated from it from the start.

And then to finally top it all off when Euphrasie chose him to save Vaugarde it's likely no one believed that Sif was the saviour because he's known across the Houses as the Worst Housemaiden Ever, why would the Head Housemaiden of Dormont choose him?!? Which probably only cranked up Sif's self-esteem issues because they'd also think Euphrasie could've picked better.

So yeah *head in hands* Housemaiden!Siffrin feels like a character locked in a constant feedback loop of "can't be part of the community despite their efforts because the system is inherently flawed for them" and "doesn't bother trying so the community disregards them".

[ladykyriaa]

I think one thing I'm gonna say to the people who are, in a way conflicted and/or waiting to watch the series is that you're honestly gonna have to be okay with grey areas. That's literally it.

KnH isn't going to explicitly show nor tell you how good/bad things are. it's an incredibly realistic story set in ancient China tackling its many issues; starting from societal problems, political, norms, gender roles, and so on. What might be problematic now isn't necessarily something the characters are going to think about more than twice.

I think a slightly controversial example would have to be abt the pedo emperor. YES, an incredibly horrible person and deserves to die in the most painful way possible. But KnH also tackled the issue that he had been human, all too pathetic and pitiful to rightfully rule the empire-never had the spine to talk to proper women thus resulting in him only talking and being attracted to (gag) little girls. You're not gonna see the characters talk ill of him more than necessary, they know its fucked up and frankly weird, but there's nothing to be done but to live with the consequences of his actions.

(Why I set this as a grey example is because I've seen people expecting the pedo to be this horrid-abusive person-and he is of course- but they certainly weren't expecting him to be depicted so pitifully and hurt, like he himself was a literal child still in need of protecting.)

don't also expect the characters to do one good thing after another just because you expect them to. Under different situations, different feelings, different place, their choices vary from one another depending on what's necessary. Don't even expect their relationship to be one linear from start to finish, thinking you can guess which way its gonna go.

in fact this is what maomao says when Jinshi questions her explicitly about their relationship

and i just think this genuinely applies to the series as a whole. Natsu Hyuuga isn't going to outrightly spell it out for y'all what Maomao nor Jinshi feels for each other, what the empress dowager feels for the pedo, what Ah-duo feels for the emperor and vice versa. She expects people to understand and come to their own conclusion.

She pieces together puzzles and expects you to fit them together, if you somehow got a different result from the way she intended then, well, that's on you I guess.

don't expect a "yes" or "no" answer to whatever questions you're about to ask. There's always gonna be a "but" and "however" to it, I think. At least from my experience of reading the novel and questioning the choices they've made.

People in this fandom throw away the word SA so easily, TOO easily I'd say. from here on out you're gonna read a lot more "problematic" things that other characters have done that they think are more or less for the good-whether that be their own good or other characters' sake.

The anime honestly does paint the series in a lighthearted way, and compared to other series it's certainly not as "dark". However I do think the strength of this series lay in its realistic choices and stories, how the characters feel so utterly human, not just driven by plot.

[scary-grace]

certain stars - a shigaraki x reader fic

Nothing in your training prepared you for this: A deadly virus that burnt through Space Station Ultra, leaving only two survivors -- you, and Mission Specialist Shigaraki, trapped together in the command module. With time, food, and life-support running out, you have a choice about how you'll spend your final hours. You just wish you had any idea what you're supposed to do.

This is for @shigarakislaughter (happy birthday!) who asked for a forced-proximity roommates to lovers situation. Being me, I had to make it weird, and being one of my fics, it had to get away from me. I'm posting part 1 now so you'll have it for your birthday, and part 2 as soon as it's done! Shigaraki x reader, rated M, space station au, angst + suggestive content. dividers by @cafekitsune.

You stare out the windscreen, into the darkness. As empty as what lies before you is, a pure black void pierced here and there by distant stars, it’s less disturbing than what lies on the other side of Station Ultra’s rotation – Earth, wrapped in clouds, brown and green and blue. It’s only four hundred kilometers below you, no distance at all when compared to vastness of space beyond your high orbit, and yet it’s never felt further away.

It shouldn’t be. There’s nothing wrong with the space station, no malfunction that would prevent the shuttle docked to this very module from bringing you and your fellow astronauts home. It’s not a mechanical problem that’s keeping you here. And as if you needed a reminder, your control panel blips at you, the shipboard computer speaking up in its cool, mechanical voice. “Ventilation recycling complete for all compartments. Parts per million remains unchanged.”

You knew it would. Your heart still sinks. “Understood. Contact Mission Control.”

Mission Control picks up right away. Director Sasaki’s voice fills your headset. “Status?”

“I recycled the ventilation system in all compartments. Parts per million in the affected compartments hasn’t changed.”

“All other systems?”

“Normal,” you say. “Propulsion, auxiliary, heat-shield, life-support. It all works like it’s supposed to.”

“And what about you?” Sasaki asks. “Are you functional?”

You haven’t slept well in three weeks. You aren’t eating much, to conserve food, but even if you could eat as much as you wanted, you’d still be too stressed to be hungry. You’re getting claustrophobic in here. The air feels stale, even though you know it isn’t. “As functional as can be expected. Given everything that’s happened.”

“Yes,” Director Sasaki says after a moment. “This was not an outcome anyone could have predicted.”

Someone, somewhere must have, though. You’ve taken three trips up to Station Ultra since you graduated from the academy, and every time you’ve come back down, you’ve spent a month in quarantine, just to make sure you didn’t pick up any deadly space bacteria while you were in orbit. It was kind of a joke to you, like it was a joke to everybody. The vacuum of space is completely inhospitable, incompatible with any form of life. There’s no way anyone could come back to earth with a disease.

But a virus isn’t life, not the same way other things are. A virus could survive inert, waiting for the correct conditions to claim a host and multiply within them. Conditions like warmth and light and ample food. The kind of things that exist inside a space station. It came inside on Togata’s spacesuit, when he returned from a walk to fix some of the reflective tiles on the propulsor housing, and as soon as it touched air, it exploded to life.

You were in the command module, because it was your shift. By the time the viral load in the compartment was significant enough to trip the ventilation system’s alarms, it had already spread to six other modules, infecting everyone it found. You sealed off all the modules in response, isolating each ventilation system from the others. It’s the only reason you’re still alive.

You, and one other person. “What about Mission Specialist Shigaraki?” Director Sasaki asks. “Is he functional?”

“Close enough,” you say. Shigaraki’s been climbing the walls, but then again, this is his first trip into orbit. Most first-timers are anxious enough without being walled up in a single module, hiding from a virus that’s deadly on contact. “He’s sleeping right now.”

“I’d like to speak to him as well. Wake him up.”

You’d rather not. He’s been having a hard time settling down enough to sleep. Still, you’re not interested in getting busted by Control right now. “Right away.”

You pick up a pen, stand it upright in the air, then give it a flick, sending it rotating end over end across the compartment to bump against Shigaraki’s cheek. He’s a light sleeper. He jerks awake at once, grabbing for his mask. “Is it –”

“Everything’s fine,” you say, then wince. “Control wants to check in with you.”

“Don’t know what they want me to say.” Shigaraki rubs his eyes. “Same shit, different sol.”

“Then it’ll be a really short check-in.” You hold the headset out, and Shigaraki makes his way across the compartment to you. Station Ultra’s gravity is about a quarter of Earth’s, enough to make smaller objects float and enough to let Shigaraki get from his makeshift bed to you without touching the floor once. “Director Sasaki, he’s here.”

Shigaraki settles the headset over his tangled white hair, and you go back to staring out the windscreen, listening with half an ear. “It’s shit,” Shigaraki says, in response to whatever Sasaki just asked him. “I’m sick of listening to you all pretend we aren’t going to die up here.”

Your stomach clenches. You can’t hear Sasaki’s response, but Shigaraki’s comes through loud and clear. “You all are stupid if you’re thinking about taking that kind of risk. If this thing gets down there, everything’s fucked, so stop lying and figure out a way to off us both. Go to hell.”

He takes the headset off, ends the call, and tosses it back to you. “You were right. It was short.”

“I told him you were functional,” you say lamely. “Now he’s going to think you’ve got Pandorum or something.”

“We’d be better off with Pandorum than whatever got in here,” Shigaraki says. You’re expecting him to go back to bed, but instead he sits down next to you at the windscreen. “At least Pandorum fucks off once you’re planetside.”

He stares out the windscreen. You study him, like you’ve been doing when you get the chance. Out of all the crewmembers you could have picked to get stuck with at the beginning of the mission, you wouldn’t have chosen him. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t happy he’s here.

Shigaraki was a last-minute addition to the crew, after the mission specialist who was supposed to go caught the flu, and he was unhappy about it from the second he set foot on the shuttle. You don’t think anybody in the history of manned spaceflight has ever bitched about going into space as much as he did on the way up, but once you docked at Station Ultra, you figured out why in a hurry. He has motion sickness – bad – and short of being on a fishing trawler in the North Sea during a storm, there’s no worse place for that than a space station that orbits the earth while moving in a constant rotation. In his spot, you’d have bitched, too.

You tried to help him. Whenever you were on shift in the command module, you altered the gravity of whatever compartment he was in, trying to make it more like Earth’s and less like whatever his version of Hell is. You parted with most of your share of Dramamine, then all of it, hoping it would help. Maybe if you’d let him know you were doing it, he wouldn’t have been such a jackass to you – or maybe he’d have been exactly the same. Worse, even. Based on the way he snapped at people who asked after him, he doesn’t want anybody’s pity.

As far as mission specialists go, though, he’s great at his job, using the lack of signal interference in orbit to gather data from the most distant unmanned probes that have been sent out, ones that have been lost to contact on Earth for decades. Voyager, Pioneer, New Horizons, Odyssey, Earendil – all of them in interstellar space, all of them still transmitting. One time you wandered into the observation module on an off-shift and found him hunched over something, headphones clamped down over his ears. You knew better than to ask what he was listening to, but when he looked up and spotted you, he kicked out the chair next to his.

You were so surprised that you didn’t question it. You sat down, accepted the pair of headphones he pushed at you, and settled them over your ears, too. At first there was nothing but silence, the quiet of deep space without a hint of static. And then you heard it, so faint it was almost a mirage – soft humming, interspersed with high, clear notes that reverberate endlessly, overlapping with others before growing too distant to hear. It sent chills down your spine.

The two of you listened in silence for a long time, until even the humming faded away. You pulled off your headphones and turned to Shigaraki. “What was that?”

“Earendil’s been picking it up. This is the first time I caught more than a few seconds.” Shigaraki tapped something on his console, and a red light flickered off. He was recording. “It’s music.”

“From where?” you asked. “Aliens?”

Shigaraki shook his head. “It’s not a signal,” he said. “It’s something else. People used to theorize about it, back before science existed, but –”

“Musica universalis,” you said, and he nodded. “The music of the spheres. It’s real?”

“If that was what I think it is, yeah.” Shigaraki’s expression was thoughtful, softer than you’d seen it before. “Cool, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, even though it didn’t feel like the right word. Eerie. Awe-inspiring. Unreal. You watched as Shigaraki bent back over his console, pulling out an old-fashioned jump drive and feeding it into the nearest port. “Cool.”

It was hard to look away from him then. It’s hard to look away now, even though he’s the only person you’ve seen for weeks, the only person still alive in here with you. His white hair, which needs a trim. His red eyes, half-lidded as he looks out the window. The scars on his eye and his mouth, which you’ve wondered about but never asked after. You’ve got questions about him. And even though he’s right, even though you probably are going to die up here, you still can’t get it together enough to ask.

The two of you sit in silence until one of the alarms you’ve set goes off. You know what this one’s for. “Virus check,” you say, and Shigaraki nods. “Let’s get this over with.”

Every six hours, you check for signs of the virus. Temperature, pupil response, blood pressure, pulse oxygen level – and then a self-exam to make sure the pale splotches that signify infection aren’t anywhere on your bodies. The air in your module is clear, still, but you and Shigaraki still act like you’re in quarantine. Like at some point you’ll be declared virus-free and safe to go home.

Your vitals are normal. So are Shigaraki’s. “I was thinking,” he says as you put the blood pressure cuff away. “I’m pretty pale. I don’t know if I’d be able to pick out the spots on myself.”

“Do you want me to check for you?”

“We should check each other,” Shigaraki says. Your face heats up, and you look away. “Accountability or something. In case one of us gets infected and tries to hide it.”

“If one of us got infected, it would be too late for the other one,” you say. “Fine, though. Let’s check each other. I’m sick of trying to look at my own back without a mirror.”

You feel beyond awkward stripping down in front of Shigaraki, even though you leave your underwear on. He leaves his on, too. “I’ll check you first, since you’re the one who’s worried about it,” you say. “Turn around.”

His back is more muscled than you expected, not that you were expecting much. Other than patches of eczema, dry and angry red from the bone-dry air, he looks clear. “I’m not seeing anything.”

“Check for texture,” Shigaraki says, and your face heats up again. “Himura was pale like me, and they thought he was clear until they touched him.”

You set your hands on Shigaraki’s back, and he startles at your touch, even though he asked you to do this. You try to think back to what you’re looking for, what the others in the infected modules reported before they succumbed. Hard, pale circles on the skin that don’t change color when pressed on. Shigaraki’s skin is clear, everywhere you run your fingers over it, but you check again, and again. You haven’t touched anyone in weeks, not even to high-five or shake hands. It’s hard to pull away.

You make yourself do it before things can get weird. “You’re clear. On your back at least.”

“Your turn,” Shigaraki says, and you turn away immediately. At least now you won’t have to keep your arms crossed. He takes one look at your back and laughs. “A tattoo? Are you yakuza or something?”

“People get tattoos where I come from. Not just gangsters.” You jump as the rough tip of one finger traces over the design on your shoulder. “Don’t touch it if you’re just going to make fun of it.”

“I’m not. What is it?”

“I thought you didn’t care about backstory stuff,” you say. “Isn’t that what you said when we got stuck? We’re not gonna bond just because we’re breathing the same air?”

Shigaraki doesn’t answer. He usually doesn’t answer when he’s wrong about something. “Are you going to tell me or not?”

“Are you going to check me for the rash or not?” You wait until Shigaraki’s hands move, then answer his question, mainly to give yourself something to think about other than the fact that he’s touching you. “It’s Centaurus. The constellation.”

“I know what Centaurus is,” Shigaraki snaps, almost absently. His fingertips drift across your shoulder blades. “Closest stars to the sun, right?”

“Yeah. Alpha Centauri.” For some reason, your throat goes tight. “I always wanted to be an astronaut, even when I was a little kid. But kids are bad at distance, and time – the stuff that tells you what’s actually possible when it comes to space travel. I used to say I wanted to fly to Alpha Centauri and back. Just a few light-years away.”

You wait for Shigaraki to make fun of little-kid you for not understanding how spacetime works. He keeps quiet, his hands moving down your spine, and you don’t know what to do except to keep talking. “I don’t remember who told me. Probably some smart kid in elementary school. And I felt really stupid about it for a long time.”

“So you got a tattoo of it?”

“Yeah. When I got accepted to the academy,” you say. “Everybody was talking about why they wanted to be astronauts – I know we seem like a bunch of meatheads to you scientists, but it’s not easy – and I thought about how excited younger me would have been to be where I was. All the amazing things I was going to get to do and see. And if it was daydreaming about Alpha Centauri that got me there, even if I could never go that far, I didn’t want to be embarrassed about it any longer.”

Shigaraki’s hands come to a stop at your lower back, fingers curling around your hips in a way that’s not strictly necessary for what he’s supposed to be doing. “Did you ever think you’d die out here?”

“I knew it was possible,” you say. In the academy, they take you through every fatal accident, one by one, teaching you ever detail to demystify it. “I didn’t think it would go like this.”

“Yeah.” Shigaraki exhales, and you feel his breath against your shoulder. “You’re clear, by the way. Turn around.”

You turn to face him and realize that the two of you are standing much closer together than you started out. Shigaraki’s hands lifted away as you turned, but they settle back on your hips at once. “Um –”

“I’ve seen you watching me,” Shigaraki says. Of course he has. There’s nothing for the two of you to watch here but each other. You should have known better than to think you could get away with anything. “What do you think about when you do that?”

You’re going to die, right? Both of you, up here, whether Mission Control finds out a way to kill you humanely or just lets you starve. It doesn’t matter what you say. “You’re pretty. I like looking at you. I look at you and I can think about something other than this.”

His grip tightens ever so slightly. “Were you ever going to do more than just look?”

You’re both going to die. It doesn’t matter anymore. You lift your hands, set them on his shoulders, and step in close. Close enough to kiss, if Shigaraki wants to – and he closes the rest of the distance himself.

It doesn’t mean anything. You’re the last two alive. If it wasn’t you, it would be someone else. You aren’t special. You remind yourself of that as his lips press insistently against yours, as you tangle your hands in his hair and hear him mumble your name. You could be anyone. It doesn’t matter that it’s you.

It’s an effort to detach yourself from Shigaraki long enough to lead him over to the pile of blankets you’ve each been sleeping in when it’s your turn to rest. You’re both mostly naked already, so it’s not a question of where things will go. It’s not the best sex you’ve ever had. With what’s hanging over the two of you, what you’re both trying to forget, you don’t think it’s possible to have really good sex. What you get instead is what you need – connection, contact, a way to ground yourself in one moment, with the only other person in the universe who understands what it’s like to stare this down.

Shigaraki’s desperate in a way that surprises you, responsive in a way you wouldn’t expect, even though this was his idea in the first place. Clingy, too – you’ve both finished, and he won’t let go of you, not even to let you get more comfortable. “I’m not leaving,” you say, exasperated. “Where would I even go?”

He finally shifts to one side, and you’re able to get settled, just in time for him to crawl all over you again. “Touch-starved much?”

“I waited too long,” Shigaraki says. You make a questioning sound. “I should have done it when I figured out who was messing with the gravity.”

Maybe you’re hallucinating. There’s no way he’s liked you that long. Or at all. “Okay, but if we’d hooked up in the command module back then everybody would have known about it.”

“They’d have been jealous.” Shigaraki’s eyelashes flutter against the side of your neck. “And alive.”

And now they’ll never find out, because they’re dead. You feel sick when you think about all the people who will mourn your crewmates, who are mourning them right now – their friends, their families, their girlfriends or boyfriends or spouses or children. Some of them have kids. Who lived, and who lived a little longer, came down to luck. Being in the right place at the right time. Being on shift in the command module for you, and standing in the doorway for Shigaraki, just as the alarms started to sound.

Something crosses your mind. “What were you doing at the command module that night, anyway? I never asked.”

“Why do you think?” Shigaraki’s voice is blurring with sleep, and you resign yourself to being stuck here until the next timer goes off. “Tell you later.”

You’re not all that familiar with hookups – you didn’t have a lot of time for that stuff with your job, or maybe you didn’t make time. You’re pretty sure you’re not supposed to fall asleep together, all but intertwined. But maybe the rules are different when it comes to hookups when you’re both about to die. Hookups where you like each other. Where things could have gone somewhere, maybe, if you’d had more time.

Sleep is tugging at you, trying to lure you down. It’s hard to resist when it’s warm. How long has it been since you were warm? Your sleeping pouch in the dormitory module feels like a distant memory, and with the ventilation isolated, the heaters haven’t been able to shift warm air to the command module in weeks. You and Shigaraki should have been sleeping like this the whole time, if it was ever appropriate for both of you to sleep at once. One person needs to be awake in the command module at all times. That’s you.

Station Ultra completes half an orbit, putting you on the dark side of the planet, and when the module rotates to show you the blackness of space, you look through the windscreen and pick out the stars. Alpha Centauri is right there, close enough to see, millennia away. You’ll never get there, but some virus could drift through space, right up close to Earth’s atmosphere? Bullshit. Then again, a virus isn’t as complex as a human. It doesn’t need air or atmosphere or water to survive. The only thing you and the virus have in common is –

Heat. The virus is inert in the vacuum of space. It activates in sufficient heat. Out in space, it can’t hurt anyone. What if you could send it back where it belongs? You sit up, shifting Shigaraki out of position, and he swears sleepily at you. “What the hell? Lie down.”

“No.” You tolerate Shigaraki’s attempts to drag you back down for about two seconds, then use the hand-to-hand training you received in the academy to pin him. “Listen to me. I have an idea.”

He stares up at you, wide-eyed, a weird flush in his face. “About how to die painlessly?”

“No,” you say. “About how to get home.”

taglist: @atspiss @baking-ghoul @boogiemansbitch @handumb @agente707 @warxhammer @shikiblessed @cheeseonatower @koohiii @stardustdreamersisi @xeveryxstarfallx @lacrimae-lotos @aslutforfictionalmen @evilcookie5 @issaortiz @lvtuss @dance-with-me-in-hell @minniessskii @f3r4lfr0gg3r @deadhands69

[yarafamily2022]

It’s been 3 days since the last donation came in…

Every day that passes, I feel more overwhelmed and helpless.

I'm a university student from Gaza, and I’m in my final year.

I still haven’t paid my tuition fees — and without that, I can’t register for my internship.

This isn’t just about a degree… it’s about my future, my family, and my only way to move forward.

At the same time, my family is struggling.

We’re lacking basic essentials — food, supplies, even the simplest things are becoming harder to find.

Everything is expensive, and the situation here is beyond what words can describe.

I started this campaign because I had no other choice.

Not for luxury. Not for extras. Just to continue my education and support my family with the little I can.

Every donation, every share, every prayer makes a difference.

Please, help me reach my goal — help me stand on my feet and give back to the ones who believed in me.

176£~~2200£

إذا كنت تقصد إنك بدك تضيف جملة بالإنجليزي توضح إن حملتك موثقة أو رسمية ومعتمدة، فممكن تضيف سطر زي هاد في نهاية البوست:

"My campaign is officially verified and legitimate."

@irhabiya

@bilal-salah0

@gaza-evacuation-funds

[sixth-light]

A few more musings on The Thing, the nature of fandom, and the future of the show

I'm not here to tell anybody what they're feeling or why they're feeling it, but for me, one of the reasons I feel very sad about Siuan is that, yeah, her book arc post-the Coup is...pretty grim taken in whole, and part of a pattern in the later series of powerful women being humiliated and forced into heteronormative boxes. But it is also an arc that had immense never-quite-realised potential - the potential for someone to be thrown from most powerful person in the world to rock bottom and come back from it in an empowering way. Even the Gareth Bryne romance had that potential buried in there, two middle-aged people who'd lost everything they'd spent their lives doing finding a joint cause and also each other. Extreme emphasis on potential, because that's not how it played out.

The show killing Siuan this way, setting aside what R2J2 has said about a plan for Siuan appearing again later in some way, is the end of any chance for the show to realise that potential - and I'm probably as sad about that as I am about Siuan's death in itself. The grief of lost possibilities is a very real thing.

The thing is also...as we get into the real meat and eventually endgame of this story, this is going to keep happening. At the start the show had a thousand places it could go with this story, once it demonstrated (in 1x04) that it was prepared to make some very radical changes in order to tell a coherent story overall. As we go on that list of possibilities is going to get whittled down faster and faster.

As fans, it's normal for us to get really attached to those possibilities - for example I was really hoping for Tuon to appear in Tanchico taking Egeanin's story, I would have loved that - and yet, lots of them will not happen. The show is one particular set of choices on how to tell the story of the Wheel of Time and it's not our choices.

I guess, in the end, what I'm saying is that over a couple of decades in fandom I've seen people really burn themselves out on fandoms because they talked themselves into believing the path they'd plotted was the only right or good way to tell the story. This is not in any way to suggest the show or this particular decision is exempt from criticism! It's more like, if you want to keep enjoying it, the only way that's going to happen is if you hold some futures lightly (unless you either have predictive powers or an incredible ability to figure out the show's plans and all the possible Doylistic roadblocks that might constrain them).

Is that compatible with fandom? Holding the future of the show lightly? Maybe not, maybe that's just the price of entry. But for me I think it's the only way the show stays fun long-term.

[narcjsistx]

— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒 ᡣ𐭩

all the information here ; PART SIX

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

The next morning, with Tanzeku still asleep and a warning to be at least half an hour late to practice, you and Sae are sitting in front of the computer he's had at home for years but has probably used less than 10 times. You haven't even had breakfast because of the anxiety, while Sae is sipping his coffee as if it's a normal Friday morning, and he's not about to talk to a lawyer. You still don't know if suggesting it last night was a good choice, but after a crying fit thinking had become quite difficult. You sigh, sitting down next to him "Are you ready?" you ask, and he nods "Whenever you want"

The video call connects: on the previously black screen appears your friend Tiffany, sitting in her law office. You smile at her nervously, not yet convinced that you are making the right choice. Last night you suggested to Sae that he should consult a lawyer who is a friend of yours, who after explaining the situation could advise you on what to do and above all would keep the secret about Tanzeku. He accepted, even at the cost of paying her ten times more than you would pay a normal lawyer. Tiffany smiles, greeting you both "It was nice to hear you needed my help. How can I help you?" she says, and you see her grab a pen and a piece of paper to write on. You turn to Sae, who raises an eyebrow when he sees you "Do I have to explain?" he asks, perhaps annoyed, and you shake your head "No... I can do that" you say and start explaining, making Sae speak from time to time to make the situation more understandable from both points of view. You spend at least half an hour just explaining the situation which Tiffany writes down in her notebook, you often see her surprised by the revelations but honestly you would be too if you discovered something like that. After all the explanation Sae clears his throat "So? Do you have any suggestions?"

"Let me think for a minute..." Tiffany says, and you nod, remaining silent. Shortly after you see her clear her throat, looking at the notes she took during the explanation "I'm thinking about... a possible cover marriage. You get married, everyone thinks you're a couple and that Tanzeku is your son from before the wedding, who Sae hid for privacy with your relationship so as not to worsen your privacy. You keep the secret from his son, who at one year old won't remember that Y/n isn't really his mother, and if Sae eventually meets another woman who loves him, he will maintain an extramarital affair that, if he wants, will marry after divorcing you. The same path is the same for you. Both of you will be aware of the other's possible extra partner, and upon divorce Tanzeku will still have two parents who love him, he will simply see you divorce. Fake relationship, basically" explains the woman

You and Sae turned to each other at the same time. It was impossible not to be surprised by this possibility, but as the seconds passed, it seemed like the only real solution to the problem. It was absurd, but it made sense. You didn’t know if he was considering the option, but you were starting to do so even though your heart was still reeling from the proposal. You were young, Sae was too, and most importantly you didn’t love each other, it would have definitely ended in divorce… but Tanzeku would have known that you were his mother, and not someone who didn’t want him. Marriage would have meant nothing to either of you after all, just a cover until one of you found a partner. You hear Sae sigh, his grip on his cup of coffee a little tighter "What if… what if no one finds another partner?" he asks, and Tiffany scratches her chin "You’ll stay with Y/n, if that’s okay for both of you. You can divorce whenever you want and maybe tell Tanzeku the truth when he’s an adult too, if you want to" explains the woman

It's the only option, you know it well. Hearing Tiffany's words had shaken you a little, but marriage didn't sound like such a bad idea: you had been used to Sae's rhythms for almost a year, you already lived in his house and once married it wouldn't change much from how it was now. This was the only option for the fate of the kid who probably considered you his mother. You look up, determined "I want to do it" you say, and Sae turns, surprised "Do you want to? Are you sure?" he asks perplexed, but not offended by your determination, in fact maybe the opposite. You nod "If it's the only way to love that kid, I want to do it" you say seriously. You're so young, you still have your whole life ahead of you, but for Tanzeku you would do it even if he's not your son. You see the boy a little hesitant, but then he sighs, nodding "It's fine for me too. But he will never have to know the reality, only us and Tiffany" he says, and you almost smile hearing his words. You nod, contentedly "No one will ever know. Not even Tanzeku himself. None of us will ever talk, no matter what" you say, and he nods with you

It's a big choice, you know that perfectly well, but you're okay with it if it means knowing that Tanzeku is safe. The call ends a few minutes later, and before you can get up, Sae stops you by grabbing your wrist "Are you sure? Because I'm going to buy the ring" he says, and the words have a certain effect on you because you know that the ring is for you, and it's a wedding ring. You nod, taking his hand and squeezing it in yours "I have no second thoughts. I hope you don't either" you say, and he shakes his head "I have none, you know that when I make a decision it's final" he says, and you nod "Okay, Sae"

"But... let me be honest. I have to thank you, I don't even know why you're doing this, that child isn't yours and yet you're showing him more love than I could in my entire life. You're practically sacrificing your life, and that's not exactly what I wanted you to do for him and... and me" he says, and his sincerity almost moves you. You shake your head, trying to hold back the tears at his words, because you know Sae isn't the best at expressing himself "You don't have to thank me, I want to do it because I know it's right this way. We'll deal with the consequences later" you say, and he nods, actually seeming to have no second thoughts about this big step

An hour later a photo appears on his profile, a post among many about soccer: the photo of two hands intertwined with two wedding rings stands out among the other posts. The description, a simple "She said yes", sends the world of his entire fanbase and soccer crazy for so many hours

TAGLIST: @lincqx ; @irethepotato ; @nevvynev ; @vaelils ; @levihanmyotp ; @lil-lia12 ; @princesssae ; @chuurinnie ; @llearlert ; @medd2005 ; @captainshindo ; @inojinieeee ; @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee ; @rroxii ; @mwezieclipze ; @cellephone ; @simp-for-wanderer ; @beepbopzlorp ; @sugurus-star ; @chiizuyu ; @tenjikusstuff4 ; @syleepy ; @saeris-world ; @s4-mmy ; @itsssyagurll ; @ar1sc0rn3r ; @tsukimoon-chan ; @90s-belladonna ; @kiokos ; @appl3-0rchard ; @linsay0 ; @certifiedyapperrrr ; @werfiedeii ; @mariaelizabeh21-blog1 ; @ann242629 ; @vashyuu ; @pjofics ; @dontmindtheevie ; @otakusimp1 ; @n0tbelle ; @kaikaidenkai ; @palegardenrebel ; @bubybubsters ; @xiavbi ; @3ve88 ; @imas1mpp ; @luvsymai ; @the-original-skipps ; @bruisedchickensoup ; @bogearts ; @zemiiinnee ; @cafem3wcuryy ; @byzantiumhollow ; @r3yk ; @sabrina-senpai

[sugurusladyknightt]

i'm thinking of introducing sukuna to the culture of binge watching and comfort films/television. i think he'd frankly be so confused by it, a little put off too. the idea simply not appealing to him. after all, this is a centuries old curse we're talking about. but oh the old curse loves you. he cares for you, and that means he also cares for the things you care for.

you'll explain to him that it's like when you enjoy a book so much you'll spend the night trying to read as much of it as possible instead of sleeping. he wants to reply that it wouldn't be truly enjoyable because you aren't taking the time to fully understand and digest the contents of the book ignoring how tired you would be (not him you stay safe out there), but he doesn't. choosing to curtly nod along to your words instead.

that's how he got here, sitting together on the couch, your smaller form resting between his strong thighs. the blankets are thrown aside, there is no use for them. his warm body against your back and four arms wrapped around you are enough to keep the nights coolness of the air at bay. there's an array of snacks on the table (your favourites and a few of the ones you know he loves but would never admit) and your favourite franchise playing on the tv.

the development of his interest starts slow, as critique. hardly there at all really but it builds. slowly gaining more and more interest in the plot (or lack there of), more invested in the lives of the characters and their choices, he's even beginning to mentally pick his favourites. watching through the series you've raved about so passionately and he starts to get it. not that he doubts you have good taste, i mean .. look at him, this really only acts as reinforcement to that belief.

now sukuna is picking up the remote and trying to click for the next part. cradling you in a pair of his arms as the other holds the remote and brings the snacks you've set up to his mouth (the one his face since you're laying there). it goes on, he hardly feels the time pass. your little giggles at his annoyed comments, you're recitation of parts from the dialogue from memory, and 'shhh shh, this is a really good part', defending your favourite characters as he does the same for his own. until he feels your breaths slow, and your voice getting heavier, chest rising and falling in calm against him. you've fallen asleep, the episodes over, and sukuna doesn't know how to work the remote to find the next one.

(he could figure it out is he tried just a little, it's really not all that difficult. but no, he's just gonna sit there like a fat old grumpy cat until you wake up and do it for him. because why would he bother if he can have a pretty thing like you take care of him instead)

[year2000electronics]

I think you should regale us with your thoughts on the addisons

THE ADDISONS! i like them a lot. i don't think i need to reinvent the wheel much though and claim that i have my own totally unique avant garde nouveau interpretation. i think people have done a really good job over the years of extrapolating what little dialogue we have of the addisons to think up some character traits The Addisons may have as a group of, say, five entities. one for each colour we see.

speaking of them as a group:

i headcanon them as a group of coworkers rather than siblings!

i prefer a more humanoid look for the addisons (given my track record) and i like it when people make them luminous/glowing. its fun!

i give them little cheek marks for fun. ive been calling them addison cutie marks

i'm of the belief that spamton was one of the orange addison's mannequins brought to life, and that's why he's so short/gains more doll features later on- his inherent differences are invisible at first (i draw him with very faint mouth lines and a far dimmer glow than the others as well as with no cheek marks) but the further he slips, the more they slip out. it makes sense to me because as a spam email he's inherently more malicious/less desirable than regular ads and it isn't until he slips through the cracks that he stops being able to mask as a regular addison

(yeah im drawing a bit from neurodivergence here. "for some reason he's different from us" being echoed by the addisons and nobody can really see why until it gets so bad that spamton's different traits have no choice but to bleed through because he's going through a total meltdown)

pink:

diva. catty diva. ambitious to a fault- a lot like spamton

based on the fact that pink is the one to have the lines that outright imply jealousy towards spamton when he got big, and also the fact that pink is the one who offers kris and noelle the freeze ring

he and spamton had a homoerotic rivalry where they were always butting heads and annoying each other, even including picking up stock of two rings nobody wants, but pink doesn't realize how much he really liked spamton until spamton's gone

but at that point he and the others had already walked away from him. it'd be a blow to his pride to ever reach out. not his fault spamton went wrong anyways. he made his choice

blue:

bleeding heart. bit of a pushover. kind but that kindness won't kick in until it's too late

based on the fact that his role is one that literally gives people stuff for free (free samples) and the fact that a blue addison is given the lines about going back to check in on spamton after everything's said and done

enjoyed spamton's company and worried about him but he was never able to grow a spine and make things his problem until it was too late. he's a bystander and that's the problem

tended to coddle spamton a little bit

orange:

the one who introduced spamton to the others, cos obviously i think it was HIS mannequin

the addison with the biggest ideas and the biggest quirks

if pink has spamton's ambition, orange has the same outspoken eagerness spamton does

fashion mogul (is the one with the mannequins!)

treated spamton as a bit of a "mini-me" because of being the one to find him, but that meant he never really saw spamton as being able to be on the same level as him

probably shied away from even thinking of spamton because he thinks "well HE messed up but that would never happen to ME". self recognition through the other (derogatory) basically

takes the biggest risks (aside from spamton) so he's about middle of the road in terms of profits cos he gains and loses a lot

yellow:

quiet, a bit distant, more businesslike

based on the fact that the yellow addison can only be seen from behind in the trash dump after spamton neo is defeated. perhaps he's more on the managerial side of things? or in even higher company than the city?

the one who most openly views spamton as a level below the rest of them thanks to his failing profits

still, he tries to rein in the others like pink from trying to push him down. wanted to see spamton prove himself once and for all

saw spamton's fall and disappearance as being unable to make it in the business world once and for all. that's showbiz, baby.

tl;dr:

[spaceasianmillennial]

Where Pope Innocent disciplines Aldo Bellini and Goffredo Tedesco to do joint prayers in a catacomb chapel

Like, the two cardinals have a choice not to do it, but Pope Innocent insisted because he thinks a joint prayer-meditation together around the sleeping saints might benefit them, and maybe help Tedesco see some light.

The two cardinals also don't want to even turn down the Pope's suggestion (not even Tedesco). But then Tedesco has the harebrained idea to insist that they can both lock themselves in an empty chapel in the SCARIEST PART OF THE CATACOMBS overnight, and even Bellini (desperately saving face before his Pope) agrees to it. And Pope Innocent just shakes his head as he watches the two cardinals seclude themselves in the catacombs.

Only for this to happen:

Aldo Bellini: Tedesco, don't you realize that you locked us in with the ghost?

Goffredo Tedesco: Coward! We're surrounded by sleeping saints! Are you so blasphemous to believe our sleeping saints will threaten us?

Aldo Bellini: No, I'm not joking. So there was an excommunicated priest who fasted and prayed so hard around the saints that he died there and he haunts the place now at night because it's said that his misdeeds were so great that God didn't take him into Heaven!

*the lights flick on and off, omniously.*

Goffredo Tedesco: Bellini, stop flicking the lights!

Aldo Bellini: I'm not doing that!

--

LATER

*A shadow stands before them*

Goffredo Tedesco: Very funny, your Eminence! I appreciate that you took the trouble to dress as a ghostly cardinal and stand ominously at the end of the hall just to entertain old Goffredo.

Aldo Bellini: Uh, your Eminence, I have a problem with your theory! How can that be me when I'm STANDING RIGHT HERE?

Goffredo Tedesco:...

Aldo Bellini: ...

Tedesco and Bellini: AGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!

*Tedesco and Bellini clinging onto each other*

Goffredo Tedesco: Aldo, I-I... no matter what I said, I sorta not hated you sometimes!

Aldo Bellini: Goffredo! I used one of your vapes to unclog my toilet!

Goffredo Tedesco: Wait, huh?

*Bishop Joseph Tremblay emerges from the shadows*

Tedesco and Bellini: Tremblay?

Joseph Tremblay: Look, I'm sorry. I just... really wanted to get in on impressing the Pope, after all that I've done, so I saw what you were doing and decided to join the cool guys into the catacombs for an overnight prayer.

*lights flick on and off*

Goffredo Tedesco: Wait, who's flicking the lights?

*Pope Innocent grinning at the light switch*

--

Based on SpongeBob Squarepants

[mangofanarts]

Foolish: "There's just something, Owen, I don't know. I appreciate your larking skills, but like I said with this whole we're playing poker right now. I feel like, I just somehow feel like right now, me and you are the ones playing poker. And while today, I thought I started this off with - playing it with Bad- maybe, maybe Bad was just simply the dealer."

Owen: "Hmm, you're good. Alright! I don't think you-I don't think you really understand the genius it took to get you here though, and the timing- I mean, one life?" Foolish: "Ohhh, where is this going?" Owen: "I had to work so hard to make sure Bad didn't kill you." Foolish: "Honestly, I could see that. He did- he has mentioned many times that he's wanted to take my life. So, you're-you're telling me you wanted a little bit more?" Owen: "More then he does, that's for certain. I actually have reason, he's just killing mindlessly." Foolish: "Ohhhh!! Wait a second, maybe, maybe- I thought I had-had it decently figured out, but maybe, there's a little bit more, go on." Owen: "I weighed the value of a King's core at compassion, and with you, I've been left wanting. You rule a kingdom of bullies and abusers, a bunch of punch-down trigger-happy mercenaries and you just like any other ruler I come across, not only permit but encourage this senseless killing of anyone and anything. Time, and time again, you've been tested and presented opportunity to rebuke- Sneeg killing me, Ros killing me, PrinceZam killing me, Ros killing Lukey, me killing Krow- all with one constant theme. A powerful entity killing a defenseless individual, but because it was done in your name and you wanted to protect your ego and power. You allowed, and at times rejoiced in it, I have reasonable cause-" [mutters about a message the realm keeper sent in chat]- "Oh okay." Foolish: "I was wondering about that time actually, thanks Keeper. Now go on." Owen: "Their-their inability to handle their emotions was a test, and your respond was a failure. I allow every King the exact same test, will they show compassion to their jester? And each one has failed. And so despite all their resources, and tenacity, they couldn't stop you from being slain by the one person that Sneeg so boldy states that he has control over, that he has read. They laughed at my misfortunate, and the only thing I'm upset about is that I'm not going to be there to see their faces when they see the chat." Foolish: "Ohhh, you're telling me this is already checkmate?" Owen: "It's been long past that. It's been long past that when Ros allowed me to get under her skin." Foolish: "Can I- can I say a couple of things before uh- it seems like something's getting started. Well, one thing or I guess two things. First of all, was it- was it over for me in the beginning when I invited you to join my kingdom? or was there still a chance?" Owen: "There was always a chance." Foolish: "Okay." Owen: "You always had a choice." Foolish: "Okay, it wasn't over from the start." Owen: "But every king is the same." Foolish: "But the second point- okay, this is kind of to your credit- almost paying my dues, to my respects- I thought this whole time, you were a run-of-a-mill chaos stirrer, okay. Really no aim, no goal, you just wanted to uh- make something happen. But, I guess to my surprise, it really wasn't chaos. But, almost more of an attack this whole time, a precise-a precise plan, and even-even with the little amount of chaos you stirred, there was always precision there. You never strayed from your task, you never strayed from your goal. You kept one thing in mind the whole time, and I think that's impressive." Owen: "You don't- I hope you don't think flatter is going to save your life." Foolish: "No, no, no. I'm not here to try to uh- butter you up and hope you spare me. I guess I just wanna say I took a gamble, and it seems like, I had you wrong." Owen: "I appreciate the kind words, Sire."

[nanavn]

In b4 the serious:

Do you wash your emotional support water bottle? Have you washed your emotional support water bottle? Will you wash your emotional support water bottle? When will you wash your emotional support water bottle?

[whoops. hit the max tags bc I apparently have ~'~feelings~'~ about this subject]

[also actual reasons. like, for real, knowledge]

Anyway.

please. I saw one that was *only* used for water - it was yellow/orange. there's no ochre or other staining chemicals in the water here. that was *bacteria* fed by years of back-wash from their mouth

it was not a setting where I could go 'so this bottle^ you're clearly quite attached to? is full of shit [not literal] that's bad for you. also - coincidentally - how's your baseline health atm?''

the only ““silver lining”" is that they drank water not something sugary

would you drink water from the same glass for weeks or months without cleaning it?

do you know why you brush your teeth? it limits the growth and amount of harmful bacteria in your mouth

this person constantly re-added those bacterias to their mouth

high levels of bacteria in the mouth leads to inflammation/infection which increases the risk of heart disease

[for the poor-pissers: I'm not saying that you will get heart disease from re-using an unwashed bottle. the additional risk is near non-existent.]

^single use. bad choice for a permanent bottle. single use bottles are not made for years and years of refills

*please* buy a bottle that's *meant* to be re-used. (the plastic of a re-usable bottle *is* a different kind, even if they seem similar)

get an easy-to-clean, no-sharp-angles cylinder-type. NOT one w/ hard-to-clean bumps/nooks or 90° corners. flat surfaces and soft corners are your friends. as are screw-on lids *without* straws or other easy-peasy-drinky solutions. are you going to buy that special micro bottle brush and use it every day? for really reals?

instead, level up your grip strength and dexterity with this one easy trick [use a screw-on lid 50 times daily]

in general for both bottle and lid: get one where every surface could be cleaned with a sponge, inside and out. *that's* easy to clean [a theoretical sponge of normal dimensions - there's no need to actually do it that way, it's just to demonstrate ease of access]

if you need an ~'~aesthetic~'~ bottle: get it in pretty colours/use stickers/get a sleeve (which also keeps it cold yanno?)

pro tip? go for a large-ish opening maybe buy a few so it's easier to have a clean one

because

you're gonna fucking wash it. when you're doing the dishes anyway with soap. and warm water. use a brush INSIDE AND ON THE LIP AND LID the dishwasher CANNOT DO THIS

get a bottle brush. yes. seriously. I have one from ikea that's, like, 1 dollar. ish?

it's much easier to scrub the bottom+edges with them

also: please start your dishwashing with the bottle, while the water is warm and clean

then let it airdry.

also between uses. and rinse the bottle before refilling it during the day. helps keep down bacteria and biofilm

which dOEs NOt ADD FLAVOUR NO BAD FOR YOU *smack* *smack* *sma-[I am forcibly removed from the mike]

have you washed your emotional support water bottle recently

[noblehouseofgay]

OH MY GOD WE GET IT YOU LIKE ONLY THE BRAVE NOW WILL YOU PLEASE tell me your favourite scenes <3

Yes !!

Ok otb spoilers below

The pretty cave date <3333

The rubix cube

Dorcas and reg talking before their fake fight "I don't want to give up James, I don't want this stupid thing on my arm. But it can only be me"

Reg mentally making fun of voldemort every chance he gets. From the snakes everywhere being tacky to straight up calling him ugly

Any interaction between reg and eslpeth actually they're so iconic

The cave scene and the black brothers interactions afterwards. Everything from Regulus thinking about James and sirius, him telling dorcas he loves her, and sirius saving reg with the sword, to reg waking up and immediately grabbing onto Sirius like a child and then them having to communicate as best they can. Sirius deciding to trust remus about Regulus.

Wolfstar in the forest

Literally any interaction between reg and James while reg is under the legacy magic. Bc James is still so into him and the shadows are scared of James so you get little bits of Regulus poking out. Oh also stabbing. Yeah I like that bit

Every ounce of moonwater we get. I fuvking love when they teamed up. I fucking love them. And even more- when barty enters the mix and they're this little unlikely team

"Action man"

Regulus literally sacrificing his life for James

"Horrible things"

When Regulus collapses against the door and lily is panic trying to heal him. And then he just stands up and is fine somehow.

The black brothers team up !!

Remus, barty, and sirius defending Regulus against Gideon and the others. Like he's psycho but he's their psycho and they trust him

"Your fight is with me tom"

The entirety of that final battle. Buying time. Regulus fully giving himself up. Him snapping voldemorts neck. Then everyone trying to bring Regulus back. They realize the fight is over and now all they want is for reg to come back to them.

Regulus desperately trying to get back to them all. Friend. Brother. Lover. A string guiding him. A vow. The sun. Silver eyes.

Regulus from here on out absolutely destroying Dumbledore and telling thay bitch what to do. He does not give a shit. He just saved the Wizarding world, he's not gonna let some old fuck deny him the things he deserves

Regulus' emotions and memories coming back. It hurts, it fucking hurts so bad but god I missed my boy yk

James finding out the things Regulus wrnt through. Him and sirius having to deal with the fact that Regulus felt he had to do it alone, he had no choice

Dorcas and reg talking about James, reg confiding in dorcas as always

The black brothers killing walburga together

"James spent a year getting over Regulus, it's reasonable to believe he succeeded"

"It's too mcuh. It should be too much"

Just that entire fuvking scene. The entire scene of jegulus talking again. Regulus not understanding how James can even look at him. James wanting to give anything and everything to Regulus.

"Regulus loves in French music" hfhshdsh him singing against his lips I'm gonna cry

Regulus slowly trying to be used to tovuh again. And James always respecting his boundaries. James is so silly. He puts his hands in his pockets and does exactly what Regulus asks

The tattoo !! Their entire love story on his arm

Sirius' new bike !!

Reg jusy fucking spoiling everyone he loves because he doesn't know how else to show affection

Reg stabbing Gideons hand. All my homies hate action man

Evan waking up and rosekiller rosekillering

Regulus sitting at the meeting table and pulling up his sleeve, showing his mark off to everyone. Bc yeah fuck you he was a death eater bc he had to be. He saved everyone's asses.

"Caught a rat"

This one's a bit complicated but- the scene where Regulus finds out about Harry. He's so fucking broken. He thinks even after James wanted him- he still lost him. It hurts so much he can't even hold back the tears. But James knows something is wrong so he doesn't leave. He needs Regulus to know he still wants him, that he's not leaving

Speaking of the baby, Lily and Harry both almost dying in labor and Regulus shows up and does the doctors job for them. Because apparently Regulus black can do fucking everything and I love him

And they all lived happily ever after !!

I got a bit carried away hehe

[fallenclan]

as promised, here is my deputy contender list! i based my choices off of character traits, character actions (in moon updates, and fallenlore), and also age. there were a lot of characters who i think would be great pics, however they were very similar in age to flamefall and it would be redundant for them to succeed him only to retire the next moon. i will also be including a ✨ next to cats i am particularly wanting for the position. this is also, of course, just for speculation! there's no guarantee any of these cats will be chosen.

✨SOOTSTEP: sootstep is the oldest of the contenders at 89 moons, however i am still including her because i think she'd be a really good deputy. i imagine she was a bit more aloof in her apprentice and young warrior days, but she's mellowed out as she's gotten older. cats tend to enjoy being around her, as she's like a laid-back aunt type. she has the good speaker and beloved kitsitter traits which make me think she's very good with other cats. this probably has something to do with quailcall's influence, however i think sootstep is generally less blunt than her mother nowadays. i also like the idea of her nervous husband (who i guess managed to fall down a mountain.. he seems very clumsy) being super supportive of her. she was also ambitious in her apprentice days! she went from ambitious -> loyal, so i imagine her priorities are the clan and her family, however there's definitely a piece of her that desires to support her clan AS deputy.

MARSHJUMP or BEARSPRING: i'm including them together, but i don't have a ton to say about them individually. i don't think marshjump would want to be deputy, but he would be capable of stepping into the role. bearspring, i believe, really wants to "prove" herself, especially after supporting ravenstar for so long. she's also incredibly clever, which works well for a deputy.

HONEYSONG: i saw this take on the discord a few times, however i personally believe honeysong has ZERO interest in being deputy. i think she'd probably decline if wolfstar asked her. also, i think it's really cute that she's got the good storyteller trait now...also went from ghost sense to ghost sight, so i think now that her powers have (unexpectedly) returned, she might become even more attuned to the spirit realm.

TANGLETAIL: she's lost a lot recently, and as a result was last seen lashing out. i'm not sure she'd be a great deputy, however i think it would be interesting plot-wise.

GIZMO or VOX: grouping them together because the likelihood is very low for both of them imo, however i think they'd both be decent picks. i think vox has a lot of compassion, and his trait being wise is also a plus. i think he probably had to grow up too soon, especially raising a kit at such a young age. i think this maturity and kindness would make him a good deputy. however, i'm not sure how he'd respond to outside threats to the clan, such as rogues or shallowclan. i think vox would want to tread a more peaceful path. i think being deputy would also give him the experience needed to lead, even if he was hesitant at first. gizmo i don't really have much to say about. it's a silly dude. strict, apparently. would make a decent deputy but i feel like i haven't really gotten a good read on what gizmo's personality is, so i'm not sure.

CLIFFBERRY: i think cliffberry was a much more light-hearted apprentice/young warrior, but has become more serious and reserved as he's aged. i think inkynose's death probably hit him pretty hard. being ambitious, i believe he'd want to be deputy, and as a great mediator i think he'd be good at navigating conflicts within the clan.

PALEDAWN: she's spunky and charismatic! i think she'd make a charming and well-liked deputy, and it would be fun to have a medcat & deputy sibling duo. i think she's a bit more of a carefree and chaotic type, but i think she'd maybe grow into the role of deputy. she'd act light-hearted, but i think she'd take her newfound responsibility pretty seriously, especially when it comes down to a conflict scenario. she and cliffberry were flirting at one point and had a mutual crush as apprentices. not sure if they're still friends, but i think it would be interesting if they were, and this scenario occured--cliffberry really wants to be deputy, whlie paledawn is supportive of him. then, suddenly, paledawn is chosen instead. she rises to the challenge, but how does she manage with cliffberry's bitterness? i think he'd try to be happy for her and support her, but he'd definitely have a bit of resentment as well.

✨✨FROZENFOG: my girl. her trait used to be cold, and while i don't think she was ever cruel, i think she definitely was (and still is) very reserved. i think tinybird was more outwardly harsh towards others, probably. the deaths of her brothers hit her very hard, and now her parents are gone too. i think after losing so many cats, frozenfog has thrown herself into her duties. now having the righteous trait, i think she'd be very determined to do look out for fallenclan's interests and her clanmates. she'd definitely be a more serious deputy, but i think she's starting to become more open to having friends with batspring and ryewhistle hanging around her. she'd be a good cat for others to come to with concerns, as she understands loss and responsibility quite well. she was also wolfstar's apprentice, which is cool.

✨RYEWHISTLE: gotta include the prophet. she's confident, so i think she at least believes she has a good shot at deputyship. i think ryewhistle is a bit arrogant but not in any way mean. she's very supportive of her clanmates and easily excitable. i mean, she was literally scarred saving sunnytuft from a hawk. i don't think she's selfish, despite her ego. it would also be really cool to have a leader & deputy sibling duo (would it be nepotism if FLAMEFALL was the one who picked ryewhistle as his successor?). i think if ryewhistle ever became ryestar, she'd pick frozenfog as her first deputy, and vice versa.

BLUESTORM: again, i like the leader & deputy sibling duo thing, especially if the leader didn't like. choose their sibling just because they're their sibling, y'know? i don't know if bluestorm would want to be deputy as much as ryewhistle, but he'd definitely rise to the occasion if chosen.

SNOWBELLY or HARESWIPE: ospreyfeather kits. need i say more?

ROOKFEATHER: another cat i believe definitely has the ambition to be deputy. having the daring trait, i imagine her as a bit reckless at times, especially when trying to impress others. her warrior ceremony was essentially ruined by the ravenstar drama, and i think being "overshadowed" by what was probably pretty traumatizing to watch (leader chokes up four of his lives, then is brutally murdered) has left her a bit frustrated. she wants to be remembered, but not as the poor apprentice whose ceremony got ruined. i think gentledawn's death also affected her pretty heavily, but she doesn't like to talk about or acknowledge that she's sad. another case for the medcat & deputy sibling duo, also. i think iceflower would be a bit concerned about rookfeather's capabilities as deputy due to her rashness, although he'd try to be supportive. i think if iceflower gently tried to tell rookfeather she might not be ready for such responsibility, she'd react negatively, which could create some drama.

GREENBERRY: she's sneaky and incredibly clairvoyant. i mean, come on. also, as revealed by beetle, greenberry has some pretty big ambitions. she definitely has the desire to be deputy. also, in a reset moon, thornwish apparently murdered wolfstar, which i found both bizarre and hilarious (in that it's so random). if i had to make up a reason, maybe so that greenberry could be deputy? he's also vengeful -> insecure, which leaves questions. anyway, i just think the incredibly clairvoyant + valuable insight (no shit) combo is rad.

MINNOWFIN: she's cool. i'd also include GRAYCLOUD, but i think she wouldn't have the desire to be deputy, at least not yet. she'd be super excited and happy for minnowfin, but would probably be uncertain about being chosen herself, despite being responsible (i think she probably has a lot of leftover guilt and self image issues after being the only survivor of her patrol). minnowfin is a skilled mediator and has natural intuition, which makes me believe she's very good at navigating interpersonal relationships and solving conflicts, which is good for a deputy.

PIGEONTOOTH: i don't think he'd want to be deputy, at least not where he currently is in life. however, i'm including him because he's compassionate, a good mediator, and a good storyteller, which makes me think he'd be a really kind and empathetic deputy. he'd be really good at making cats feel understood and supported.

✨JAYSTRIPE: yeah, it was a given that i'd add jaystripe to this list. i mean, come on. she's bold and has a dark forest bond. i imagine jaystripe has warring feelings, wanting to step out of her father's shadow but also wanting to become greater than him, to do better, to lead fallenclan somewhere good as opposed to plunging it into war and chaos. so what if she sometimes listens to his whispered advice? he was a clan leader, after all. he made some bad decisions, but he made good ones, too, surely, or else why would he have been made deputy and then leader...? smiles evilly. i think jaystripe would have a lot of conflicted emotions, but she'd be very determined to be a good deputy. i think a lot of cats would probably side-eye her and whisper nervously about ravenstar, which would make her even more determined to prove herself to be different, better. i imagine she's pretty laid back generally, definitely a brooder and occasionally a glares-into-the-distance sort, however i think she's got her emotions pretty well-wrapped, however i like the idea of a clanmate blatantly suggesting jaystripe is a little too similar to the young prodigy ravenstar which leads her to blowing up, shocking everyone and "confirming" their fears about her. she just. has a lot of plot potential. also, would you look at that, she's just gotten an apprentice! :)

DAISYFRECKLE: she'd make an energetic and eager deputy, but she'd probably be a bit reckless and irresponsible, imo.

BUZZARDCRY: he's currently lost, but he might not be lost forever. i just like buzzardcry, and think he'd be a good deputy. not much else to say here honestly.

CANARYWISH: i don't think she'd want to be deputy particularly, and she is also lost at the moment, however i think it'd be interesting to see her step into the role. i think she's very similar to grandma mossfrog, in that she's clever and skilled, but also horribly lonely at heart. i think she'd probably end up relinquishing her role as deputy and returning to warriorhood. or, even better, becoming a medicine cat. i think it's a bummer that clangen doesn't have the option for warriors to chose to become medicine cats, which is a lifegen event i find delightful. i think it would make a lot of sense for canarywish to want to be a medicine cat, given her history. i think she'd find a sort of peace in the medicine den, surrounded by the "medicine family," if you will. i think she'd get along really well with craneclaw, actually.

cats i would have added if not for their age being similar or older than flamefall: moorthistle, blossomfur, jumbletooth, frecklefox, hazelthorn, and maybe if we're feeling generous, sleepydawn (the greaser).

-🐉

YESSSS FUCK YEAH!!! i love your reasonings.... lots of cats on here that are on my own list!! though in the end the biggest factor is when Flamefall retires. I think he could Technically retire any day now, or he might wait until he's 150. i suppose we shall see! i've got some older and some younger picks, tho i'm leaning younger since wolfstar is getting up there... and of course i have to keep in mind who Flamefall himself would pick, since he'll be the first deputy choosing in a while! much to think about