#but I didn't learn every word there is to know

[aziemniak]

For those who somehow missed this gem, yes the polish written Z spam is true and yes "Grzegorz Brzęczyszczykiewicz" still has a fuckton of consonants even if you account for the fact that all of its Z's and the consonants before them are treated as a single phonetic sound, and it does pass as a normal Polish name but the funniest part is. It is actually a fictional name made up by a fictional character specifically to fuck with the nazis (and after the transcriber finally gets that bs down he gets a "Chrząszczyżewoszyce powiat Łękołody" for a place of residence)

But ya'll better strap in 'cause I don't wanna talk about the Z's, their double-consonants or how we eat all those consonants like they're snacks. Those at least are simple, consistent and easy to memorize. You know what's convoluted, makes no sense, and will take you a decade of on-hands experience if you didn't have the luck of being raised with the language? Fucking declensions. Like I get that Polish is neither the exception nor the champion of convoluted grammatical cases but I'm just Very Normal about grammatical cases and how they are nearly absent from English. So, picture this: you've managed to learn the world "woman" and want to use it in a sentence! Is: 1. the woman executing the verb in the sentence? 2. it about the woman in the sentence? 3. the woman subjected to the actions in the sentence? 4. it about the woman in the sentence because for some fucking reason you can have two different cases for most nouns depending on the verb used even though this case's function is so similar to No.2 I can't come up with a better example right now? 5. the verb executed with the woman? 6. the action about the woman? 7. Or are you simply trying to call out to or adress her? And while this is an exhaustive list of cases it is by no means an exhaustive list of supplementary questions (tbf the questions I supplied are pretty ass because analyzing linguistics funtions is hard). Good luck memorizing which verb calls for which declension. Oh and the general declension suffixes change depending on the grammatical gender and whether or not the noun's non-animate, animate or personified. Good luck with that too. You're still not done yet because a lot of nouns just like having exceptions to either the general declension suffix or the word's core. Once again, good. Luck. You have to do this for all nouns, pronouns, adjectives and numbers, by the way. And yes, the natives can all tell if you mess up a single one but they're not gonna bother correcting you because they'd have to interrupt your every other sentence and that's rude (and we like to hear people struggle I guess). And you'd think it's just one of those language quirks that is stupidly convoluted for no reason but no. All of this actually does serve One Particular Function I can think of off the top of my head. All of this is just what it takes for a language to have sentences capable of leaving their grammatical subject at the gas station while also having a word order made of liquid that are perfectly understable and sound entirely natural about 80% of the time.

tumblr: on languages

[natanielkovack]

hii katsuki x shy reader headcannons maybee??

Omg, Yess!!! Thank you for the request, Qyuin! :3

I'm scared of flies... I'm scared of guys...

Katsuki Bakugo x Shy! Reader headcanons ; gn, fluff, comfort.

Ever since the entrance exam, Bakugo didn't pay much attention to you. It wasn't because he was actively ignoring you, you just didn't really talked or participated.

The first time he realized your existence was in the physical testing with Aizawa. It was just a brief moment, but he tried to learn your quirk to somehow beat you in battle.

To him, you were just another extra in the way, another person he had to beat in order to be the N° #1 hero, so he was surprised by your sudden calm and friendly behavior as days passed by.

Of course, he answered with his usual yelling and cursing, telling you to go away and leave him alone. But you never gave up in trying to know him.

Bakugo would secretly keep every detail you give him. At first he would do this with everyone, but as his closet grew full of things he got rid of almost everything... Still, he couldn't get rid of what you gave him.

He would look at you with annoyance when you miss his Monday doodles, silently handing you his notebook for you to draw something small.

At first it feels like a one sided thing... Until you notice how he gives you the bigger portions of the food he cooks for the class, the juiciest parts and the sweetest servings of those cakes Sato bakes.

He knows you're shy, it used to annoy him so much. You would always take so long with talking while handing him something, but now he finds himself looking forward to those clumsy speeches you give.

He's really understanding, but he also understands that you have potential and a lot of it. In class he would tell you to rise your hand when you know the answer, taking your wrist in his hand and raising it for you. It feels like a mini heart attack, but that satisfactory feeling that you answered correctly is so relieving.

He will always follow those with an "I told you so" and a grin before looking back.

Everyone noticed his change in behavior, how he grew sweeter with you. He even knew what you wanted without you even talking... Everyone knew except Bakugo himself and that made everyone so angry at him.

That man is so oblivious to his own feelings.

You can't really tell when your "nervous because of people" turned into "nervous because of Bakugo". Your heart beats faster, you want to be so close to him, you start drawing more hearts and writing sweeter words and oh it makes Bakugo so... Happy?

He thinks that you've somehow infected him with your shyness or something because why else would he blush and feel so warm when you're close? He sees you running away more often, now the letters and drawings just appear in his backpack and he feels his heart missing a beat everytime he sees it.

It takes a few hangouts with the bakusquad before Mina snaps and hits the back of his head, saying "You're more annoying than ever! Can't you see that you like them? Like, you blush and all! Everyone knows! Get a grip!" And he seems to contemplate his whole life while everyone laughs, is that what that was?

He tries talking to you once... Twice... The third time he starts getting angry and there's no fourth time because he decides to do it your way.

His writing is honestly so lovely, a drawing at the end with a heart saying everything he feels. From how he hated you for being like a scared mouse to how he wanted to protect you.

He didn't knew how to look at you the next few days, his eyes darting from you to any other space he could.

When he grows the courage to ask you out you feel like fainting, because why is Thee Bakugo Katsuki asking you out? But you're with him holding hands while walking in the blink of an eye.

He's so sweet and knows when to stop his borderline cruel jokes and comfort you, never judging when you feel so much anxiety for things that are common for others.

He doesn't care that you go speechless when he holds you while watching TV on the common room's couch, it is nice and even you know you'll get used to it... Right?

He cooks for you constantly, he thinks is only fair to give back all you've given him that way.

At first he takes his hand away from yours because of how insecure he is of his sweat, but you just slowly search for his fingers to intertwine yours and the world stops around him.

You slowly grow more comfortable, being more vocal with him about your thoughts and even rambling about nothings. He doesn't ever complain, getting to listen to your voice is such a privilege that he doesn't ever wanna risk losing.

He's so proud to see you growing, working with your shyness instead of against of it, your charm never lost and you're so kind, he could never get tired to see you interacting with the world.

Bakugo makes fun of you from time to time, Joe red you get when he's too close and how your voice lowers when he teases you, you're just too cute, can you blame him?

But he would never be cruel to you, he likes to comfort you. Both of you laying on his bed and hugging, something he would never admit but he loves.

He just loves being around you, you're polar opposites and he can calm down around you while you get more talkative with him.

You're shy, not quiet, at least not around him. And he has learned to be a lot calmer when he's with you, the way his heart beats like crazy balances out that need for constant stress.

A/N: I hope I did good TwT I've read a lot abt Bakugo but I still feel like he's ooc, he's actually really complex! Thanks for requesting, this was so much fun!! (^з^)

Hey! Natan here! ; wanna read more about Bakugo? ; check out my masterlist.

[edenesth]

5 Steps to Losing to You

Pairing: student council president!Yunho x vice president!fem!reader

AU: high school au (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: The student council president of KQ High had five simple steps to surviving his vice president: outshine you, outsmart you, outlast you, annoy you, and — definitely — never fall for you. Too bad every step brought him closer to late-night arguments, unexpected truths, and one unforgettable confession under the fireworks. Somewhere between enemies and uneasy allies, Yunho took five steps too far — and ended up losing (his heart) to you.

Genre: romance (duh), comedy

A/N: Thank you, @itstheghostofmypast, for giving me the urge to write another high school AU. This one's heavily inspired by one of my favourite animes of all time, Kaguya-sama: Love Is War.

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Do you ever meet someone for the very first time, and somehow, without a single word exchanged, you just know — from the very core of your being — that you can't stand them? No logical reason. No past history. Just pure, gut-level irritation.

That was exactly how Jung Yunho felt the second you stepped into the student council room, your posture straight, your expression unreadable, exuding the kind of effortless confidence that set his teeth on edge.

You were the new transfer student — the one the teachers haven't been able to stop raving about, the one who somehow landed the coveted vice president title before even learning the school layout. And now, here you were, standing beside him, the council's golden boy, as if you belonged there.

"Dude, that's her? Oh, they weren't lying when they said she'd be eye candy," Wooyoung, the council treasurer, whispered with a smirk, elbowing Yunho's side. Yunho didn't even glance at you. He just scoffed, nudging Wooyoung back hard enough to make him stumble. "Yeah? Well, too bad a pretty face isn't enough to survive my council. I give her two weeks before she runs back to wherever she came from."

He said it loud enough for you to hear — on purpose — just to see if you'd flinch. But you didn't. You only lifted your chin slightly, eyes flicking toward him for a single, scathing second. And in that moment, you hated him just as much as he hated you.

Because from the moment you locked eyes, you knew exactly who he was — the adored, untouchable president who had everyone wrapped around his finger. The boy who carried himself like the school was his kingdom, and every student his subject. And now you were supposed to serve under him?

Absolutely not.

You hadn't transferred here to play second to anyone — least of all some arrogant, overhyped, self-proclaimed king. Back at your old school, you were always at the top: top grades, top leadership positions, top of every ranking that mattered. You weren't just a vice president — you were a future president in the making.

If Yunho thought you were here to play a supporting role in his perfect little reign, he was dead wrong.

You weren't here to make friends.

You were here to take his crown.

────

Yunho leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he watched you skim through the thick binder of council documents that Seulgi, the council secretary, had just handed over. His eyes narrowed slightly, studying you like you were some kind of unwelcome intruder trespassing on his territory.

"Hope you're not too overwhelmed," Yunho said, voice dripping with fake concern. "Student council here isn't exactly… beginner-friendly."

You didn't bother looking up, flipping another page instead. "Don't worry, President," you replied, tone sweet but sharp. "I've dealt with more organised councils before. This is nothing I can't fix."

The room went still for half a second — just enough for Seulgi to glance between you both like she was watching a fuse being lit.

Yunho's smile sharpened. "Fix? That's a bold word for someone who hasn't even seen our term plan yet."

You finally met his gaze, leaning forward just slightly over the table. "Oh, I've seen it. Last year's records were so charming, especially the part where half the events went over budget and the spring festival had a typo on the banner. Spring Festivel, was it?"

The muscle in his jaw twitched, but his grin didn't falter. "Funny. You talk big for someone who just transferred here. But I get it — new girl syndrome. All ambition, no clue how things actually work."

You rested your chin in your hand, elbow propped on the table. "And you talk big for someone who's clearly too comfortable sitting on his throne. Guess we'll see who adjusts faster — me to this school, or you to having actual competition."

The president's smile froze in place. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was being challenged — especially not by someone who hadn't even been here a full week.

Seulgi cleared her throat awkwardly. "So! Uh, why don't we go over this semester's goals together? You know… as a team?"

You and Yunho didn't break eye contact. Neither of you smiled.

"Can't wait," you said.

"Neither can I," he replied.

And like that, the war had officially begun.

────

To the outside world — to teachers, students, and anyone not trapped in this cursed room — Yunho and you were the dream team, the picture-perfect president and vice president duo. Smiling side by side during assemblies, coordinating in perfect sync during meetings, and even exchanging polite nods in the hallway.

But inside these four walls, away from the prying eyes of your adoring audience, it was an entirely different story.

It started small. The first time Yunho reached for the meeting agenda, it was mysteriously missing from his file. "Alright, let's get started with today's agenda—" he paused, flipping through his folder, only to find the neatly printed schedule gone. His eyes snapped up, narrowing instantly at you.

You sat across from him, filing your nails with deliberate slowness, not even trying to hide your smug smile when he had to wing the entire meeting from memory. "Looking for something, President?" you asked sweetly.

Wooyoung watched the exchange from the corner, whispering to Seulgi, "That's the second time this week. If this keeps up, he's gonna staple the agenda to his forehead."

The secretary sighed, already immune to the madness. "At least they're creative."

Then there was the presentation. Monthly council update in front of all the teachers, a perfect opportunity for the president to shine — until Yunho confidently clicked to the next slide… and instead of student council statistics, the screen flashed an embarrassingly tragic childhood photo of him mid-sneeze, teeth crooked, hair tragic.

Gasps filled the room. His eye twitched. From beside him, you covered your mouth, the picture of shocked concern, while under the table, your finger rested innocently on the laptop's trackpad.

"Oops," you whispered sweetly.

"You're dead," Yunho mouthed back.

The teachers would later praise your teamwork for handling the "technical difficulty" so gracefully.

The coffee war escalated next. Yunho, ever the gentleman, brought you coffee before morning meetings — extra bitter because he knew you hated it with a passion. You retaliated the next day, handing him a cup that smelled amazing but was actually salted beyond salvation.

Wooyoung took a cautious sip from his own drink, eyeing both of you. "This is why I only drink from the vending machine now."

"Smart," Seulgi muttered.

When it came time to make festival posters, the battle turned artistic. The school festival posters were a joint project — one half handled by you, the other by the president. What should have been a cohesive design turned into visual warfare.

Yunho's side was classic and professional, clean fonts and crisp colours. Your side? Bold, flashy, practically neon — and just slightly crooked, making his side look off-balance.

"It's like watching a couple divorce through graphic design," Wooyoung whispered.

"Except they were never married," Seulgi muttered. "Thank god."

The final straw — at least for that week — came during the morning announcements, when the president confidently read out the list of upcoming events — only to realise someone had swapped his script. Instead of the council's official calendar, he was now announcing a fake bake sale where Yunho himself would supposedly be dressing as a bunny mascot to promote sales.

His death glare found you through the broadcast window. You waved back cheerfully.

The students roared with excitement. "Bunnyho!" they chanted.

Seulgi buried her face in her hands. Wooyoung filmed everything.

And yet, the moment those council doors swung open, you both snapped back into your roles like pros. Smiling in sync at the cameras, cutting ribbons together with practised grace, even finishing each other's sentences when teachers asked about the upcoming festival. It was a performance so convincing that even Wooyoung — who knew the truth — found himself applauding.

"It's terrifying," the treasurer started, watching the two of you gracefully cut the ribbon at a new club opening ceremony. "They look like they actually… get along," he whispered, equal parts horrified and impressed.

"Tell me about it. They're scarily good at this," Seulgi agreed, clapping along with the crowd. "It's like they're starring in a romcom where only they missed the memo."

If only they knew.

If only the rest of the school knew.

If only anyone knew that beneath all the staged smiles and synchronised speeches, it would only take five steps for the mighty president and his infuriating vice president to lose — not to each other, but to something neither of them ever saw coming.

────

Step One: seeing each other.

It started like any other day in the student council room — a battleground polished to perfection.

You arrived first, flipping open your notebook, already plotting your next move. Yunho followed shortly after, shooting you a glare so subtle no one else would notice, but you caught it. You always did. The latest round in your ongoing war had been yours — you'd managed to replace his entire project folder with a stack of fake documents detailing a made-up proposal for a "Student Council Talent Show," featuring him as both host and performer. He'd spent an hour in front of the principal before realising the whole thing was a setup. You were winning.

So when Yunho swept into the room, you were already bracing for his retaliation. And sure enough, it came — a stack of freshly printed minutes from the last meeting placed squarely in front of you. Except every instance of your name had been replaced with "Her Royal Highness, The Vice President of Perfection".

You stared at it. He smiled, all teeth and zero remorse.

"Thanks for the edit," you said coolly.

"Anything for my vice president," he shot back.

But that wasn't the real blow. The real sabotage came during the club funding review later that afternoon. It was your turn to present the approved budgets for each club, a dry, boring task — until Yunho, in a voice far too innocent, asked, "By the way, Your Highness — didn't your old school have a fencing club? You were captain, right?"

You froze for half a second. It was microscopic — no one noticed. Except for Yunho. Of course, he noticed.

"Yeah," you said, flicking through the papers like the question meant nothing. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing. Just wondering why you transferred out so suddenly. From what I hear, you were practically royalty back there, too."

You knew what he was doing. Fishing. Trying to unearth whatever dirt might be hiding under your perfect exterior. You forced a smile. "It was boring," you lied. "Needed a challenge."

He hummed, unconvinced.

Later that evening, you found your chance to return the favour. You'd overheard a conversation between Wooyoung and Seulgi, something about Yunho always leaving in a rush after school, barely staying long enough to clean up. So you set a trap — a simple one. You "accidentally" scheduled a last-minute meeting that ran late, forcing him to stay behind.

You expected him to blow up at you afterwards. You were ready for it. What you didn't expect was to follow the tall and lanky boy out — purely out of curiosity — only to watch him walk straight to the convenience store down the street, throw on a part-time apron, and start restocking shelves.

You stood outside, stunned, watching the golden boy student council president clock into a job like any regular kid. Except he wasn't just any regular kid, was he?

For the first time, you saw him without the shine — no polished uniform, no cocky smirk, no sharp words ready to fire at you. Just a boy with his sleeves pushed up, quietly stacking instant noodles, stopping every so often to check his phone like he was waiting for a message.

And when his phone finally buzzed, you saw him smile — small, tired, real.

You didn't mean to see the text, but you did.

Mum: Yunho-yah, don't forget to bring home eggs if they're on sale.

You stepped back before he could notice you watching, heart thudding with something you couldn't quite name.

That was the first crack.

The next day, Yunho found a neatly folded discount coupon for eggs tucked into his student council folder. No signature. No note. Just a coupon.

He stared at it for a long time.

For once, neither of you said anything.

But it didn't end there.

Later that week, Yunho caught sight of you outside the school gates, long after the council room had emptied. He hadn't meant to linger — in fact, he had every intention of ignoring you like usual — but something about the way you stood there caught his attention.

You weren't scrolling through your phone or chatting with anyone. You just stood there, posture straight, hands clutching your bag like it was the only thing keeping you upright. A sleek black car pulled up, polished until the surface gleamed, and a middle-aged man in a pressed suit stepped out to open the door for you.

He scoffed quietly to himself. Of course.

Princess treatment. Figures.

But as you slid into the back seat, something about the way you moved made him pause. Stiff. Formal. Like you were stepping into a stranger's car, not your own. He caught a glimpse of your face through the tinted window before it rolled up — your gaze fixed straight ahead, unfocused, mouth pressed into a thin line. You looked... distant. Detached.

Not proud. Not smug.

Not like someone who had it all.

Just... tired.

Yunho frowned, stuffing his hands into his pockets, muttering under his breath, "Must be nice to have everything handed to you... so why do you look like you've got nothing?"

He didn't have an answer. And that unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

That night, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the memory of your empty eyes lingering longer than they should.

Neither of you knew it yet — but the game was already changing.

────

Step Two: the unexpected rescue.

The rain came down hard — the kind of storm that soaked you to the bone in seconds, drumming against the pavement with no mercy. You stood just outside the school gates, shoulders hunched slightly under the awning, arms crossed tight as your phone buzzed non-stop in your hand.

Driver (5 missed calls)

Driver: Stuck in traffic. 15 minutes.

Driver: 20 minutes.

Driver: Sorry, Miss. It's a mess out here.

You exhaled sharply through your nose, locking your screen before shoving the phone into your pocket. This was typical — your family's staff was always prompt when it came to your father, but for you? Delays. Excuses. You were used to it. Didn't make it any less irritating.

The rain intensified, and you took a careful step back, just barely avoiding a splash from a passing car. That's when you saw him — Yunho, already halfway down the sidewalk, hood pulled up, backpack slung over one shoulder.

He could have kept walking. You expected him to. Hell, you would've preferred it.

But he stopped.

He stood there for a second, back still facing you, before you saw his shoulders rise and fall in what looked suspiciously like deep, begrudging contemplation. Then, without a word, he turned back, marched toward you, and thrust his umbrella out with one hand.

"Don't make it weird," he muttered, hood shadowing half his face. "I'm not leaving my vice president to drown. People would talk."

You stared at him, dumbfounded, before slowly stepping under the umbrella's cover. Your shoulder brushed his — just barely — but it was enough to make the air between you heavier than the rain itself.

"You're still an arrogant ass," you said, mostly out of habit.

"And you're still annoying," he shot back.

But neither of you moved away.

The walk to the nearby bus stop was silent, save for the rain pattering against the umbrella's canopy and your synchronised footsteps on the wet pavement. The silence should have been awkward — it always was between the two of you — but this time, it felt... almost easy.

At the stop, he held the umbrella steady over both your heads until the bus pulled up, wiping rainwater off his forehead with his sleeve.

"Don't think this means I like you," he said, voice quieter than usual.

You snorted, climbing up the bus steps. "Please. I'd be more worried if you did."

But when you found your seat by the window, you caught a glimpse of him outside — standing there in the rain, umbrella still in hand, watching the bus pull away. Neither of you knew why this moment stuck so firmly in your minds. You just knew something had shifted.

The next morning, you were absent.

Yunho should've been pleased. A day without your sharp tongue, your constant presence, your infuriating need to challenge his every decision — it should've felt like a vacation. But instead, an uncomfortable unease gnawed at him from the moment he entered the council room and saw your usual seat empty.

He shouldn't care. He knew that. But for some reason, his mind kept circling back to the night before — the rain, the bus, the fleeting glimpse of your tired face in the window.

Did you even get home safely?

He scowled at the thought. Not my problem. I already did more than enough. But no matter how much he tried to shake it off, that knot of regret just sat there in his chest, stubborn and unrelenting.

By mid-morning, his irritation boiled over. Slamming his pen down, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Where's Vice President Pain-in-the-Ass today?" he asked, tone far too casual to be casual.

Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up — before a slow smirk stretched across his face. "Why? Miss her already? You two were so cute sharing that umbrella last night."

Yunho's chair scraped violently against the floor as he sat up straighter. "What?! Who said— That's not— I'm only asking because I was expecting her to submit the student committee reports today!"

"Suuure," Wooyoung drawled, dragging out the word until Yunho was ready to fling a stapler at his head.

Seulgi, ever the peacekeeper, stepped in with a sigh. "She called in sick. Probably caught a cold from getting drenched yesterday."

The president's stomach did an uncomfortable flip, though he masked it with a disinterested shrug. "Serves her right for not bringing her own umbrella," he muttered.

But later that night, during his shift at the convenience store, he nearly rang up a customer's items twice — his mind completely elsewhere. Each time the door chimed, he half-expected to see you storm in with some ridiculous complaint about student council policies. He hated the way that thought made his chest tighten.

He hated it even more when, the next morning, he found himself at his kitchen counter — brewing herbal tea.

When you returned to school the next day, you dropped your bag onto your desk, only to pause, brow furrowing. Sitting there, completely unassuming, was a flask of warm herbal tea. No note. No explanation.

You glanced around the empty room — only one other person was there this early, and of course, it was him. Yunho, head down, pretending to be engrossed in a report he had already read twice.

You nudged the flask aside and pulled out your notebook instead, determined not to play into whatever weird game this was.

Across the room, his pen froze mid-sentence. After a few beats of silence, he huffed, loud enough for you to hear.

"For heaven's sake, it's not poisoned," he said, still not looking up. "Drink it if you want to actually recover."

You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious — but curiosity (and the faint scratch in your throat) won out. You unscrewed the lid, steam rising in a gentle curl. It smelled... comforting. Soothing. Like something homemade.

Reluctantly, you took a sip.

"...It's good," you admitted quietly.

He didn't respond, but when you looked up, you caught him — just for a second — sneaking a glance at you over the top of his file.

Again, neither of you said another word.

────

Step Three: forced vulnerability.

For a while, it seemed like the umbrella incident and the flask of tea never happened. Whatever fleeting kindness had passed between you both was quickly swallowed by your usual dynamic — sharp words, constant one-upping, and a relentless need to prove the other wrong.

That fragile truce didn't stand a chance.

It all came to a head after yet another brutal fight — the kind that had papers flying across the table, voices raised loud enough to make the underclassmen passing by the council room door wince. Seulgi had to physically step between you, arms stretched out like a human barricade.

"You always have to hog the spotlight, don't you?" you seethed, finger jabbing toward Yunho. "President this, President that — it's like you can't function unless the whole school is watching you."

"And you're any better?" His voice came sharp and fast, eyes blazing. "You waltz in here acting like you're saving us all, like this council should be grateful to breathe the same air as you. Spoiled little princess who can't handle not being number one."

The silence that followed was deafening. Even Wooyoung, who usually lived for drama like this, suddenly found his folder of expense reports incredibly fascinating.

You stormed out before anyone could see the flicker of hurt flash across your face. No way were you going to let Jung Yunho of all people make you feel small.

You walked blindly down the hall, fury pulsing in your veins, until you froze at the sound of his voice — quieter, softer, so unlike the boy who had just ripped into you moments ago.

"…No, Mum, I can't cover that shift. I already stayed late for council." A pause. "It's fine, really. I'll figure it out."

The reminder hit you hard. Yunho, the golden boy, the president everyone envied — was working part-time jobs after school. The same boy who seemed to have it all was just another kid juggling too much, carrying more weight than he let on. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you couldn't move either. Something about the edge of exhaustion in his voice made you stay.

Suddenly, the arrogant bastard didn't seem so untouchable after all.

A few days later, the roles reversed.

Yunho had gone to the library to grab an old council binder when he spotted you tucked away at a corner table. You weren't working — just sitting there, blankly staring at an open textbook like the words weren't even registering.

Next to you, a small pile of letters lay scattered — some still sealed, others torn open, the papers inside slightly crumpled like you'd held them too tightly. He didn't need to read them to know what they were. Letters from parents who cared more about achievements than feelings, words dressed up as 'encouragement' but laced with disappointment underneath.

He hadn't meant to stop, but something about the way your shoulders curled inward — that tiny, defeated slump — made him pull out a chair across from you without a word. He opened his own notebook, flipping through pages like he had a reason to be there.

The silence stretched, but for once, it didn't feel awkward.

Eventually, Yunho broke it.

"Not everyone's parents show up for them either, huh?" he said quietly, still pretending to read.

Your head snapped up, startled by the unexpected understanding in his voice. But he didn't look at you. He just kept twirling his pen between his fingers, as if the words had been said casually — like it wasn't the first time either of you had ever acknowledged this shared emptiness.

You didn't answer, but you didn't push the letters away either.

And just like that, things further shifted.

For the first time, you both saw each other — not as rivals or enemies, but just two kids quietly drowning under the weight of expectations neither of you had asked for.

────

Step Four: defending each other.

It happened so fast, you didn't even have time to think.

You were passing by the courtyard on your way back to the council room when you heard them — two students sitting on the low wall, voices pitched just loud enough to be overheard.

"I heard she only got vice president because her family donated a new wing to the school."

"Yeah, everyone knows Yunho's the real deal. She's just there to smile and look pretty. Riding his coattails the whole way."

Your hands curled into fists, steps already veering toward them — but someone else got there first.

The sharp thud of a bag hitting the ground made the gossipers jolt upright. Yunho stood there, shoulders squared, eyes dark with something dangerously close to fury.

"Say that again," he said quietly — and somehow, the softness of his voice was far more terrifying than if he'd shouted.

The students stammered, scrambling for excuses, and he didn't even spare you a glance as he slung his bag back over his shoulder and walked off, leaving you standing there — stunned silent.

Because for all the times you had accused him of being full of himself, Jung Yunho had defended you like it was second nature. Like the idea of anyone else insulting you was unthinkable.

You didn't know what to do with that.

The universe, however, was nothing if not fair. Because just a few days later, the rumours shifted — this time, about Yunho.

"Did you hear? Student council president's working at some convenience store. Imagine seeing him behind the counter after school, bagging snacks for pocket change."

"Golden boy's not so golden after all."

The words grated against your ears so sharply, you were standing in front of them before you even realised you'd moved.

Arms crossed, chin lifted, you gave them a smile so sweet it made your words all the sharper. "Funny. I didn't realise students who can't even pass basic math had opinions anyone cared about."

The stunned silence that followed was delicious. You didn't wait for their response — just turned on your heel and walked off like they weren't even worth your time.

That should've been the end of it — except Yunho was waiting for you by the lockers later that afternoon, arms folded, gaze unreadable.

"I didn't ask you to defend me," he said, tone somewhere between exasperation and confusion.

"Yeah, well." You shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "Couldn't let my rival's reputation get dragged through the mud before I beat you fair and square."

He stared at you for a long moment — long enough that you felt heat creep up your neck. And then, to your utter disbelief, he smiled. Just a little.

"You're insane."

"You're welcome."

Neither of you admitted what was really happening here.

Neither of you wanted to.

Because rivals didn't protect each other like this — right?

…Right?

It was supposed to be a one-time thing.

That's what you both told yourselves. Yunho stepping in when people ran their mouths about you? Just defending the council's reputation. You shutting down rumours about his part-time job? Basic professional courtesy. Nothing more.

Except it kept happening.

You noticed when he looked more tired than usual, dark circles smudged under his eyes like he hadn't slept a wink — and then you caught yourself caring. Which was ridiculous. You didn't care. You were just making sure the president didn't screw up his responsibilities because he couldn't handle his personal life. Right?

And Yunho? He wasn't watching out for you. No way. He just… happened to notice when you didn't eat lunch (because of course a spoiled princess would be picky), and maybe that's why he tossed a protein bar onto your desk without looking at you. Totally normal. Not thoughtful. Just practical.

The mental gymnastics you both performed to justify each and every concern were Olympic-level.

When you caught the president absently saving you the better seat during meetings, you told yourself he was just being tactical — easier for you to see the projector, of course. And when Yunho overheard you grumbling about forgetting your calculator before a math quiz, and then somehow one appeared on your desk five minutes later, you were definitely not touched. It was probably a spare he didn't need. Nothing more.

Wooyoung and Seulgi, meanwhile, were losing their minds — because the two of you were so deep in denial it was physically painful to watch.

"She just snapped at him for using the wrong pen colour for the event banners, then turned around and gave him the last slice of cake at the meeting," Seulgi whispered, wide-eyed.

"And he's been pretending to hate her handwriting, but I caught him saving one of her post-it notes in his folder," Wooyoung whispered back.

"Should we help?"

"Nah. Let them suffer."

Because to everyone else, it was painfully obvious: the two of you cared, far too much, and it was eating you both alive.

Neither of you could sleep without replaying your arguments, wondering if you'd crossed a line. Neither of you could look at the other without searching for signs — were they okay? Were they pushing too hard? Were they... thinking about you too?

Of course not.

You hated each other.

That's what you told yourselves.

That's what you needed to believe.

────

Step Five: the breaking point.

The final planning meeting for the year-end festival — the crown jewel of student council events — was supposed to be smooth sailing.

Supposed to be.

Instead, it turned into a sudden crisis and full-blown disaster. Miscommunications piled up like wreckage, schedules clashed, vendors were double-booked, and somehow, two essential permits vanished into thin air — all thanks to the endless assumptions of he'll handle it or she'll settle it.

In truth, the entire student council had been stretched too thin. With final year exams looming and everyone juggling revision sessions alongside festival planning, it was inevitable that details would slip through the cracks. Messages were missed, notes went unshared, and somewhere along the way, every member — even you and Yunho — had trusted that someone else would catch the mistakes.

No one did.

And now, with barely a week left until the biggest event of the year, it was all on the verge of collapse.

The council room was a war zone by the end of the day, with papers scattered across every surface, and half-eaten snacks abandoned next to rapidly-drained cups of instant coffee. The rest of the council had long since been sent home after nearly combusting from secondhand stress.

That left just the two of you — sworn enemies, or at least that's what you both kept telling yourselves — sitting across from each other in the wreckage, sleeves rolled up, hair undone, exhaustion written into every breath.

Somewhere between fixing the vendor placements and rewriting the schedule for the third time, you both cracked.

Laughter. Actual, delirious laughter. It started small — you snorted at something he mumbled under his breath, and he stared at you like you'd grown a second head before dissolving into laughter himself. The kind that made your stomach ache and your shoulders shake, the kind fueled by stress and sleep deprivation until it was impossible to stop.

"This is actual hell," you groaned, collapsing onto the table, cheek smushed against a poorly drawn map of the festival grounds.

"Yeah," he leaned back, arms hanging off the back of his chair, head tilted to stare at the ceiling. "But at least it's not boring."

You turned your head to look at him — hair sticking up in every direction, tie loosened, shirt wrinkled, sleeves unevenly rolled, and yet somehow still the same Yunho who drove you insane. Except, right now, he wasn't the 'golden boy president.' He was just… a boy. One who was just as tired, just as human.

"Yunho," you said softly, surprising even yourself. "Why do you hate me?"

His laughter faded. He didn't look at you right away — just exhaled long and slow, fingers tapping against the table.

"Because you make me feel like I'm not enough," he admitted, voice low, like a confession dragged straight from his chest. "And I hate feeling that way."

The honesty knocked the air from your lungs. Because it was exactly how you felt too — and you'd never meant for him to see you like that, just like you never thought you'd see him like this.

"I never wanted to hate you," you whispered, voice small. "I just wanted to beat you."

He finally turned his head, gaze meeting yours — and for the first time, there was no sharpness, no competition, no battle lines drawn between you. Just understanding.

And maybe, just maybe, something softer underneath. Something neither of you were ready to name.

"It's late. We should go," he murmured.

The air was cool, the sky stretched inky black above you, and the silence between you wasn't exactly uncomfortable — just unfamiliar. After months of snapping and snarling at each other, the absence of sharp words felt almost too quiet. Too fragile.

The two of you walked side by side down the empty street, your steps slower than usual, like neither of you wanted to be the first to break the strange peace that had settled over you.

But eventually, you couldn't hold back.

"…Are you okay not making your shift tonight?" you asked softly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

He took a moment before answering, the faint scrape of his shoes against the pavement filling the gap. "I'll just work a double another time," he said with a shrug, like it was no big deal.

It made something pinch in your chest — this casual acceptance of overworking himself like it was second nature. You hesitated, then asked the question you realised you'd never actually known the answer to.

"Why do you work so hard?"

He didn't answer right away. His hands slid into his pockets, shoulders hunching slightly under the weight of the question. But eventually, his voice emerged, quieter than you expected.

"For as long as I can remember, it's just been me and my mum," he said. "She works really hard, but money's always been tight. When I was old enough, I took as many jobs as I could — bagging groceries, tutoring, working at that convenience store. And I kept my grades up because… I just wanted to make her proud. Wanted to give her a life where she didn't have to worry anymore."

You slowed your steps, turning your head to look at him properly. And once again, you saw him — not as your rival, not as the frustrating golden boy — but as a son. Someone's son, trying his best.

"You're a good son, Yunho," you said softly, with a smile that felt more genuine than any you'd given him before.

He smiled back — just a little — until you added, just as softly, "Can't say the same for myself though."

Yunho's footsteps halted. You stopped too, eyes falling to the sidewalk beneath you.

"You wanted to know why I transferred here, right?" you asked, voice quieter now.

Without waiting for an answer, you bent down and pulled up the edge of your right sock, revealing a thin line of surgical scars tracing across your ankle. The streetlight caught on the pale skin, glinting faintly.

"One bad match," you said, almost to yourself. "One opponent who played dirty during championships. That's all it took."

His brow furrowed, but he didn't interrupt.

"Like you said, I used to be fencing captain. Top-ranked in my old school." You let out a soft, bitter laugh. "And after the injury, I couldn't compete. I fell from first place — took months off to recover, missed exams, missed everything. To my parents, that was all it took for me to become… a disappointment."

You let your sock fall back into place, hands brushing down your skirt, voice tight with forced cheer. "So, they sent me here to start over. To rebuild whatever glory I lost. To make me their perfect trophy again."

The president didn't say anything right away. And for once, you didn't try to fill the silence either. You just stood there together, in the middle of a quiet street, under a flickering streetlamp — two students who had spent so long trying to outshine each other, only to realise they were both just chasing shadows.

When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you'd ever heard it.

"They were wrong."

You glanced up at him, blinking.

"They were wrong to make you think you're only worth something if you're perfect."

Your throat tightened, and you had to look away — because if you didn't, you might actually cry, and you weren't ready for that. Not in front of him.

"Come on," he said gently, nudging your arm. "We still have to survive this festival. One tragedy at a time."

You laughed — watery, but real. And without thinking, you bumped your shoulder into his.

For once, he didn't bump back harder.

────

Five steps later, you were finally here.

The festival had somehow, miraculously, come together — the chaos you and Yunho had wrestled into order was now a blur of glowing lanterns, flashing booth lights, and bursts of laughter floating up into the night air. From the rooftop, you could see it all — your shared battlefield turned into something beautiful.

You should have felt victorious. But instead, your chest ached with something you couldn't name.

Footsteps behind you.

You didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Shouldn't you be down there soaking up the praise, President?" you asked, arms folded across your chest, voice deliberately casual.

He stepped up beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, gaze flicking down over the festival before settling on you. "Shouldn't you be down there taking credit, Vice President?"

You side-eyed him, lips twitching up despite yourself. "I thought you hated sharing your spotlight."

"I do," he said — quieter this time, almost too honest. "But… maybe I don't mind sharing with you."

You froze.

This wasn't the usual banter. There was no smirk, no teasing edge to his voice. Just Yunho, standing there under the open sky, the glow of the festival washing a soft colour over his face.

"I spent this whole year trying to beat you," you admitted softly, your fingers curling around the cool metal railing. "Trying to prove I was better."

"Same," he said — too quickly, like he'd been holding it in. Then he shook his head, a breathless laugh slipping out. "But every time I thought I was close to finally taking you down, I just… ended up liking you more."

Your heart stuttered. "Liking me?"

"Yeah." He exhaled hard, like saying it out loud physically knocked the air from his lungs. "I hated you so much I couldn't think straight, and then somewhere along the way, I just wanted to know you. All of you."

The first fireworks burst overhead, painting the sky in red and gold. The light caught in his hair, in his eyes — and you realised you'd been staring at him this whole time.

"You're such an idiot," you whispered, even though your throat was suddenly tight.

"Why?" He turned toward you fully now, his shoulder brushing yours. "Because I confessed first?"

"No." You took a step closer — close enough that the heat of him bled into your skin. "Because I've liked you too. For longer than I wanted to admit."

Another firework cracked, sending sparks raining down like stars.

Neither of you looked at it.

Yunho's hand found yours on the railing — the touch hesitant at first, until your fingers curled back around his. His thumb traced along your knuckles like he couldn't believe this was real.

"I still want to beat you," you said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Good." He leaned down, forehead almost brushing yours. "I wouldn't like you if you didn't."

And then — under a sky exploding with light — he kissed you.

It wasn't sweet or shy. It was a clash of everything you'd ever felt for each other — every argument that left you breathless, every late-night meeting where silence spoke louder than words, every sharp-tongued insult meant to cut but only carved deeper into longing.

His lips were warm and urgent, tasting faintly of festival cotton candy and the mint gum he always chewed when stressed. His hand slid up, fingers threading into your hair before settling at your jaw, his thumb tracing a line along your cheekbone so softly it left your skin tingling.

He pulled you in like you were something fragile and precious and dangerous all at once — something he couldn't risk breaking, but couldn't stand losing.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, hands fisting in the fabric of his blazer, tugging him closer until there was nothing between you but heat and heartbeats. You could feel the tremble in his breath, the subtle shudder that ran through him when your fingers brushed the back of his neck. His heart hammered so loudly against your chest that you could swear it was echoing your own.

The fireworks painted streaks of gold and crimson across your closed eyelids, but none of it compared to the colour blooming beneath your skin — the dizzying warmth curling low in your stomach, the ache of every unsaid word bleeding into every touch.

When you finally broke apart, panting slightly, foreheads pressed together, you both laughed — breathless and dazed — like you couldn't believe it took you this long to get here.

The fireworks were beautiful.

But they were nothing compared to this.

────

The following Monday after the festival, the entire school knew.

Some claimed they'd caught glimpses of you and Yunho sneaking off together just before the fireworks, while others swore they saw his arm casually draped around your shoulders during the late-night cleanup. And, of course, the boldest rumours came from those who witnessed you both at the council table, sipping from the same straw like it was the most natural thing in the world.

But none of that was the real giveaway.

The real giveaway was how you two fought — exactly the same as before, except now he called you baby in the middle of arguments, and you shot back with a saccharine sweetheart, both said with enough venom to curdle milk. The council meetings were still battlegrounds, but now they were laced with something sharper — affection disguised as irritation, fondness hidden under barbed words.

"We should focus on next month's fundraiser," Yunho declared, tapping his pen against the table.

"We should focus on midterm review sessions first," you countered, not even looking up from your notes.

"You just want to show off how perfect your study guides are," he accused, eyes narrowing.

"And you just want to procrastinate so you can rewrite your precious 'president's welcome speech,'" you fired back.

"It's called leadership."

"It's called an ego trip."

The room went silent — council members exchanging wide-eyed glances, already bracing for the explosion.

But instead of storming off like you used to, Yunho just leaned back in his chair, tilting his head with that infuriating smirk. "I'm still your boss, Vice President."

Your smile was too sweet, too dangerous. "And I'm still the one who covers your ass when you forget deadlines, President."

Somewhere in the back of the room, Wooyoung silently started a betting pool: kiss or kill — which would happen first?

Together, the two of you became the undeniable, unstoppable force of the student council — a perfect storm of brains, charisma, and sheer chaos. When Yunho's charm and golden-boy smile couldn't win over the principal, your cold logic and flawless presentations sealed the deal. When your sharp tongue and brutal honesty made freshmen tremble, his easy grin softened the blow. Together, you raised more funds, pulled off bigger events, and terrified more slackers than any council duo in school history.

And yes — you still argued like your lives depended on it.

But now, the fights ended with lazy kisses behind closed doors, fingers brushing under the table during meetings, and softly muttered threats of "I'm still going to beat you at this" whispered like a love language.

Some days, he walked you to your chauffeured car, fingers laced with yours despite the stunned looks from every passing student. Other days, you waited at the convenience store until his shift ended, pretending to browse the snack aisle while secretly watching him work — admiring the boy who once drove you insane, and now, somehow, made your heart ache in the best way possible.

And every night you walked home together, sharing an umbrella or splitting a can of soda, your shoulders bumping softly in the dark.

"We're still enemies, right?" you asked once, voice quiet under the stars.

He grinned, tugging you closer by the waist. "Always."

Then he kissed you again — and just like that, the fight for power had never tasted so sweet. Because somewhere between rivalry and romance, between every clash and compromise, you both realised: there was no winning without each other.

If you've watched Kaguya-sama: Love Is War and are also a fan of it, just know that I love you. The way Wooyoung was initially going to take Miyuki's role, but on second thought, Yunho seemed more well-suited for it. Wouldn't you agree?

Also, I hope y'all liked the rooftop kiss🙈

And if you haven't watched the anime, I love you too! For taking the time to read this, I genuinely hope it was enjoyable hehe I know I had a lot of fun writing this.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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Anyone Can Cook

as the wise tale of ratatouille states "anyone can cook... but only the fearless can be great"

{Hello! Second fic, this time pure fluff for recovery! Warnings: kitchens being messy, mentions of bland food, cooking, mentions of the french and reader is french, picky eaters, incorrect cooking terms (probs) // word count: 2.2k}

masterlist

Leah always mentioned Ratatouille around you, like a little disease that you could never shake. The little blue rat named, Remy, had become a staple in your household- even earning you a nickname based on the rat. She thought herself funny, with you being French and all- even a native Parisian, which apparently made it even more of a gag. One that you didn't enjoy very much.

You didn't get it- the film, while good in a general sense and clearly a children's film- had no idea of what a professional kitchen actually looks like and you liked to point out the serious misconceptions to Leah every time she forced you to watch it.

"Seriously, Lee- I have had enough of this film!"

You grumble when Leah once again picks Ratatouille to watch on your weekly movie night- this makes it twice in a row that she's picked this. Making you absolutely devastated that watching Notting Hill was being put on hold, once again.

You wonder whether revoking her TV rights on film night would fix the problem but then remember that Leah could do absolutely anything and you'd probably let her do it anyway. Even if it's a chef rat based torture.

Still, it's actually getting to the point that you remember practically every single line of the film and the plot never surprises you. Not when Leah insists on watching it all the time.

You don't even think she actually enjoys the film enough to watch it all the time either so it must only be to see your reaction.

"But it's so good- really lets me get the idea of what you do at work," Leah giggles and presses start and the obnoxious "French" sounding music starts to play.

You groan, "This is not what I do."

"Yeah, yeah, Remy- You do some cooking with fancy things, I know."

"Actually, I-"

You're about to correct Leah with the most attitude you ever have when she presses her lips against yours and you melt like butter in a pan. She knows that you can never resist her when she has her soft lips against yours and it works without fail each time- even when you're terribly angry.

Leah smirks and wraps an arm around your shoulders. In turn you sigh, knowing that there is no winning when Leah has her mind set on something or whenever she uses her ultimate weapon.

It's around half way through the film, when the famous line is said that you come upon the genius idea. Taking Leah through cooking something that cannot be made via a machine- a cooking lesson with the most inept chef you've met.

The words anyone can cook are true... to a certain extent- It comes down to personal opinion mostly, what does one truly classify as cooking? In theory, if making toast with butter was considered cooking then Leah was the expert but when it came to the taste department- that is where your girlfriend falters.

Before Leah, when you still lived in France, you swore up and down you could never date anyone with the taste buds of a five year old- saying that it was the ultimate deal breaker. Now here you are, dating a famous Arsenal footballer that has the diet of a primary schooler.

At first, it had come as a shock- you went to a restaurant on your first date (not your ideal place for a date but Leah insisted) and she ordered the plainest thing on the menu. You were in such shock that you double checked the menu to see if you weren't misreading because who orders chicken nuggets at a Michelin star restaurant? And why did they even serve such a dish?

It also happened to be the moment that you fell head over heels for Leah, so you learned to get over the food very quickly.

Yet, this was a moment to teach Leah a lesson in taking you seriously... or maybe at least putting a stop to rewatching Ratatouille every single week.

So you take a week to prepare everything perfectly, you plan out what you're going to teach Leah to cook, even survey your kitchen staff before opening with a little questionnaire.

Then you make sure that all knives are sharpened, pots and pans are present- even though you're the only one who uses them- and that all other additional equipment is on hand if needed.

After all the prep work, you go out to the market early on Friday morning to buy a whole chicken since Leah is most likely to actually eat it after it's cooked- you're against wasting food in any circumstance. Then circle around to the other side for fresh vegetables. Once you have acquired all that is needed, you return home perfectly on time.

It leaves you enough time to get your chef coat that you wear when working and find the spare one you had borrowed for Leah, then set out all the ingredients on the marble countertops. It looks absolutely perfect and tickles that ocd part of you brilliantly.

In hindsight, you should have given Leah a slight pre-warning as to what the two of you were doing today but the expression on her face when she walks in is priceless- so priceless, you wish you had recorded it, so you can show it to all her teammates and your co-workers.

“What’s all this?” Leah says, clearly confused as she drops her training bag by the discarded sneakers. 

You fan your hands out, presenting all the different things across the countertops with a large grin- just as large as Leah’s everytime she picks Ratatouille over any other mildly interesting film. 

“This, my love, is your cooking crash course with the best chef in London.” 

It’s true, the London’s society of restaurateurs had voted you best chef for the third year in a row and you couldn’t be happier to flex it in Leah’s face. It’s your personal victory and you like to compare it to her Euro win with England- just to watch her turn a little red as she fiercely defends it to be harder. 

You'd normally agree but maybe she won’t be so quick to correct you next time though because as soon as she’s in the white coat with you (and after you had taken a photo of her that will be posted on instagram later.) the two of you are off, cooking what you think is going to be the driest chicken ever. 

“No- not like that!” 

You’re quick to correct her, it’s automatic and you feel as though it’s a little harsh but this is payback for making you suffer through a cartoon rat cooking. 

You place a hand on top of hers and you swear she blushes just a bit but you ignore it, instead guiding her hand to correctly dismantle the chicken into its individual parts. After helping her with one side, you watch as she tries to complete the other- and to her credit, it is not a total disaster. The cuts are a little jagged and some of the chicken looks more like it’s been massacred rather than taken apart but albeit still looks edible. 

Then she looks up at you with proud eyes and you forget about everything for a moment- all the mental gymnastics- and focus on her sweet smile that warms your heart. You come a little closer and give her a kiss on the cheek, careful not to touch her since you've just been cutting chicken.

"You're doing so well, sweetheart."

Maybe it's an exaggeration but the blush appears on Leah's cheeks after it is completely worth a white lie.

"Thanks, Remy, I have the best teacher," Leah wiggles her brows at you suggestively and you roll your eyes in return.

"Well, I do have three Michelin stars to my name," You grin and Leah smiles back at you.

Then you add, "It's like having three of those golden ball thingys that you all pine after."

Leah's face drops a bit, "You mean a ballon d'or?"

Your face lights up and you nod rapidly, "Yes, exactly!"

Leah pulls a face and furrows her brows, "Okay, baby... maybe we should focus on the cooking?"

You nod and turn your attention towards the dismantled chicken in front of the two of you- You resist the urge to cringe and put all the different parts into a bowl that you then place into the fridge.

"Let's wash hands before the next part."

The two of you take turns washing your hands, Leah flicking water at you playfully when it's her turn and you frowning when she does so.

"Take this seriously, Lee- In my kitchen-"

"Our kitchen-" She corrects you.

You raise your brows in question, "Who uses it the most?"

Leah suddenly fiddles with her coat and looks anywhere but you, you scoff but a smile finds it way to your face anyway- then you wrap an arm around her waist.

"Whatever, just focus- as if it were a match!"

Leah chuckles but steps up to the cutting board where various different vegetables are laid out with one of your personal knives that you bring to work besides it.

"So what now?" Leah asks, evident confusion in her voice.

"I want you to cut the peppers julienne and the carrots paysanne."

Leah looks at you with the most confused expression you've seen to date when the French leaves your mouth and all you can do is sigh.

"Peppers thin like matchsticks and the carrots into circles, please."

"Now that, I can understand," She laughs and begins to chop the peppers, first gutting them and throwing the seeds in the bin beside her then slicing them into strips.

You're leaning your head on her shoulder and your arms are wrapped loosely around her waist as you watch what she is doing- Leah's fingers are wrapped around the wooden handle and she guides the blade down each pepper part with some kind of precision.

You smile and encourage her by giving a light squeeze that you feel she leans into-

"Focus, that knife can cut your finger off."

You hear Leah scoff, "Maybe you shouldn't distract me then?"

You don't say anything nor do you move your arms away from her waist instead focus on the way she's slicing the various peppers- somehow, Leah begins to stray from the very thin slices into thick chucks without even acknowledging it.

You smile, "Stop for a second, Lee."

Leah pauses instantly and turns her head to look at you from where you stand behind her, she raises a brow in question and you grin in return. Then pick up a slice of pepper, holding it up for the two of you to inspect.

"Too thick, darling."

You press yourself closer to her back, forcing her to face the board again- this time you place your hands on top of hers, they are slightly warmer than yours and the heat immediately spreads, then begin to slice as you had instructed.

The rest of the vegetables go smoothly and you let them rest to the side before taking the chicken out of the fridge again-

"We are going to bake the legs, use the bones to make a sauce with the peppers and boil the carrots."

You explain, pointing to all the different elements as you do so and all Leah does is nod before stepping closer to you so she can wrap her arms around your neck.

"Yes, chef Remy," Leah chuckles when you scoff.

She gives you a quick kiss that you so desperately want to deepen but she pulls away before you can. Instead, she turns to the board and looks at you with the same focus you see on the pitch.

"Alright, let's start."

The rest of the evening goes... as well as you'd imagine- the kitchen is thankfully still standing, but in a state of utter disarray. The sauce that Leah made under your guidance had boiled over after she turned the temperature up, so that it would "cook faster". You didn't even get the chance to explain that it doesn't work like that, when a blob of sauce landed on the floor.

So there was a large spillage of sauce all over the stove and countertop but that was the least of your worries since the fire alarm had rang... once... twice... and a third time when the chicken was in the oven. Turns out that Leah cannot preheat an oven to the correct temperature either- so that chicken wasn't even dry, as you'd predicted, it was just simply not even there anymore.

All the meat had burned into crispy back sludge and the bones smelt disgusting- so disgusting that Leah had to stand on the balcony as you threw it out. Stating that she would throw up if she had to do it. 

It turns out that nothing was safe from Leah's horrid cooking skill since the carrots suffered a death by over boiling- turning into mush rather than keeping their shape after the plunge in the steaming hot water of the pot.

In the end, Leah and you end up on the plush sofa with white styrofoam take out boxes in front of you and the normally tidy kitchen left in a rather untidy state, much to your dismay- but none of you had the energy to clean on an empty stomach.

You're shoveling food into your mouth when Leah picks up the remote and you dread what's coming. You see disney being opened and the pit in your stomach turns into sickness-

"So... Ratatouille?" Leah giggles and presses play, you music ringing out of the speakers. 

"Darling- No, please!"

[littelovelunette]

hiii i’ve never requested anything b4 so idk but i wondering if u could do one where sevika mentions love the light freckles and beauty marks (i have both🤪) on readers face and reader being shocked that someone would notice such small details about her since no one had ever made her feel seen and cared for before (idk if this makes sense but🤷🏻‍♀️)

Little Bits

You and Sevika had only started dating and every single date would be a test of your makeup skills because you would take atleast an hour to settle the concealer on your face, hiding your freckles and beauty marks.

It wasn't that you were insecure but you just wanted to look like everyone else who didn't have freckles or beauty marks. Just to fit the beauty standards.

With a sigh, you reached forward and uncapped the tube of concealer and began your makeup. Where would Sevika take you today? You both were relatively shy about the entire relationship and you knew Sevika wasnt one for grand gestures but that's fine.

You put on some lip tint to end your makeup and brushed your hair, doing a loose braid. Your phone chimed and you instinctively smiled at the screen seeing Sevika's text. "Where are you?" You walked to the balcony that was curtained and peeked a little and there she was.

Sevika stood by the pavement in front of your apartment, eyes on her phone's screen and mechanical hand holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

"Come inside." You texted her back and saw Sevika walk into the apartment unit. You opened the door before she could knock, greeting her with a smile.

"Flowers for m'lady." Sevika said giving you the bouquet, you laughed. "Where'd you learn that from?"

"Nowhere." She grumbled you had the gist she learned it from Jinx who was the matchmaker afterall. You stepped aside to let Sevika come inside the apartment, "It seems like it's gonna rain." Sevika said as she took a look out the window and up at the grey clouds.

You put the flowers in a vase, taking in a small whiff, smiling.

"Mhm. You agreed and quickly put away the concealer tube you were holding, "I just have to put something back in my room, I'll be right back." You said hurriedly and made for an awkward half-run half-walk to your room.

You stuffed the tube hastily into your makeup purse and walked back to Sevika.

"You have a nice apartment." Sevika looked around, eyes fixing in the decorations of the spacious apartment. It was minimalistic and you liked it that way.

"Thanks." You blushed a little but tried your best recompose yourself.

"You live alone?" Sevika asked, finally turning to meet your gaze.

"Yeah, why?" You inquired

"It's just— it's not the safest to be living alone in a place like Zaun, I mean it is but that's only if you're good with self defense." Sevika rubbed the back of her neck.

"Are you saying I don't know how to defend myself?" You smiled, a little teasing tone picking up with your words.

"Do you?"

"You bet your sweet ass I do."

You heard the dripping outside, you knew it was raining. The soft scent of rain filled the air making you rush to be window like an excited kid. "It's raining! It's raining!"

Sevika chuckled coming up behind you and holding your waist. "You like the rain?"

"A lot! Let's go out!" You made for a run but were held back by Sevika.

"You'll catch a cold." Sevika grumbled under her breath but watching you stare up at her with those pitiful puppy eyes really had an effect on her. "I guess a few minutes in the rain will be fine."

As you stepped on the rain, Sevika followed you there. You smiled up, letting the rain droplets soak your face, dancing around happily and splattering water everywhere.

Sevika laughed at the side, a full and hearty sound, something you were glad to be the one to hear. Sevika held you by the waist to ensure you didn't slip and fall. Everything felt perfect, until...

Your hair came up instinctively to rub your face because the water was getting into your eyes, once you withdrew your hand there was your concealer on your hand. It was smudging off due to the water...

Panic stroke your brain and you tried to gesture Sevika to go back inside but she didn't let you. "We just got here, what's the deal?"

Once Sevika's grey eyes locked onto your face she smiled, "You have freckles." She raised a hand and cupped your face with her flesh hand, stroking the side lovingly. "And they're so pretty."

Your heart almost stopped beating. "They're p-pretty?" You stuttered making Sevika chuckle, eyes softening as she gave you a nod of affirmation.

"Very," Sevika pushed your hair out of your face, "So are your beauty marks."

"No one's ever said that to me," you said looking down as water droplets fell out of your hair and lashes. You looked so beautiful right then if Sevika could take a picture of you, she'd keep that in her wallet.

"Others don't matter, you and I do," Sevika said before slowly tilting your head up for a soft, tender kiss. A kiss in the rain for you.

[bunny-jpeg]

on my telly, kyle "gaz" g. - cool summer evening. kyle was enjoying a beer with his feet up on the coffee table. a beer in one hand and visibly relaxed after being away for almost six months.

he missed this, much better than the muggy hell he was in across the globe. he could watch the football game, enjoy a cold beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and of course, his favourite activity. watching his girl give him the messiest oral sex she could muster.

he exhaled smoke out of the corner of his mouth and tapped the ash off his cigarette into the ashtray that was rested on your back. he said in that honey-sweet voice of him, "careful there, lovie. i'd hate to make you clean up all the ash."

you loved his cock in your mouth. it felt perfect just like that. kyle's cock wasn't porn star levels of huge, but it was big enough for you. you once told him that you liked his cock because it fit just right and wouldn't end in an emergency room visit. you had been trying to deep throat him and the way that your throat would constrict when you tried to go too deep.

you felt tears prick your eyes and you'd whimper. you wanted to pull your head away to gasp for breath, but it was a balancing act. you couldn't tumble over the ashtray and ruin your lover's evening. he had been in peru for a mission and without your pretty plush lips around his cock. he didn't need to stop to clean up a mess you made. and while he loved when you played maid for him, he'd rather you service him in another way.

he took another drag of his cigarette and the heavy smell of cigarette smoke filled your head, it only added a level of pleasure to your needy core. you were soaked, evident by the wet spot in the crotch of your pretty pink panties. panties you gave to him as a gift for his deployment and it took two wash cycles to wash all the cum out of it. now the soft pink fabric was stretched across your fat ass as you sloped your back to near drool all over kyle's cock while you choked on his cock. fuck, you looked divine.

"pretty girl." he mused after he had another exhale, "letting me come home to a proper meal, a proper wife, and a nice night in. eh, think it's about time i bring home a ring. make you my bride. you'd like that." he put the smoke in his mouth and patted your behind then gave it a swift smack. he chuckled when you moaned. he spoke around the cigarette in his mouth, "can't be letting some idiot waste your talents. got all the makings of a good wife." he slapped your ass again as you continued to bob your head quickly. he took the smoke out of his mouth and held your ass. he made sure not to burn his girl with the lit end, "no other man knows how to handle you the way i can." his voice was smooth and you shuddered, "careful with the teeth, i know you're eager."

you were mindful, for a moment you got too lost in the feeling. your eyes fluttered shut as you focused on making him feel good and not letting the ashtray fall off of your back. it was like a performance and kyle was going to give you rave reviews once the match was done. you teased the tip with your tongue. nudged it against the slit and kyle tensed up for a moment before he had a sip of his beer.

"i see you've been learning." he mused, "i feel like i should be worried you've been stepping out of the relationship. but you sent me more than enough videos to show that you've been a good girl for me." he said lowly before he stamped out the cigarette in the ashtray. that was enough smoking for tonight.

while you still orally pleasured him, he was generous enough to get the ashtray off your back and onto the table. once he was relaxed back into the couch, he slapped your ass with his wide palm and your back arched as the wetness between your legs grew. the feeling was immense, the pleasure was overwhelming. you felt like such a whore, but it was hard not to when kyle made the word feel like a badge of honour.

"such a pretty thing on my cock. bet you thought about him every night. thinking about bouncing on it until the walls shook from those screams of yours. you'd get us in trouble with the landlord again, right?" he slapped your ass again before he slapped your ass and palmed the skin under his palm. he loved the feeling and he knew that you did too. you were soaked right now and kyle knew he had a long night ahead of him.

he relaxed and played with your hair while you continued to move your head up and down his cock. he loudly exhaled and tugged your hair a little. he said without looking away from the game on the screen, "careful there, watch your teeth." then felt you adjust yourself so you took him so much better. he felt the tension out of his shoulders. nothing quite like a smoke, a beer and some head.

tomorrow you'd go out on your dates and be the sweetest couple in the entire country. but tonight, it was about feverish sex. any way you could get your body on kyle's. he cursed under his breath while you picked up momentum and were able to sink down a little further. he held onto your hair tightly and tensed up. he swore a little louder as he clutched his beer can a little tighter.

you were quick with your movements and moaned with his cock shoved into your throat. kyle pressed you a little further down and he raised his hips to he could finish down your throat.

"fucking hell, love. all mine, missed you." he said as he watched you pull your head away from his cock and looked at him with a blissed out gaze. he reached for your and stroked your soft cheek lovingly.he smiled at you, "look at you. someone's needy."

you swallowed and nodded, "yeah. i need you." and then flung yourself at him with such force he almost dropped his beer. the kiss you shared was sloppy. you tasted like cum and he tasted like cigarettes.

but by morning you'd both be reeking of reunion sex. <3

a/n: feedback is lovely <3

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Even without an answer (perhaps the search will be enough)

carry me slowly, my sunlight (these colours, they fade for you only) - series masterlist here

pairing: damian wayne x reader (gender neutral)

length: 2.2k

genre: angsty hurt/comfort

warnings: non-sexual nudity, they're in the shower the whole time, injury / chronic pain talk, hmm trauma lasts forever and you have to live with it ig

a/n: I hope this makes sense I hope it's gooood I hope y'all like it <33

The ache that sets further in as you stand in the steam of your shower, you think, should be more familiar by now. The pain that surges through your back and your shoulder should feel a bit more like home. 

But as you stand with your head bowed under the spray of the shower, hot water cascading over you and tingling your skin as it throbs, you find that you've never felt quite so far removed from yourself. 

It's only the sound of the bathroom door opening, the quiet click of the lock and the shuffle of clothes on the other side of the fogged-up glass that makes you blink. But it doesn't make you move, and you stand, upright and trembling, as Damian slips into the shower behind you, hissing at the temperature of the water but stepping closer nonetheless to press a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

"He shouldn't have said that to you," he murmurs softly, and as he traces his knuckles up your spine, you squeeze your eyes shut.

"He didn't mean anything by it."

"He's a detective," Damian continues, and there's a razor-sharp edge to his voice that feels so familiar. "He should've known."

"He's your father… I hope you didn't fight with him because of me," you say dully, and your voice is strained in a way that makes Damian put his hand on your shoulders and try to turn you around to face him. When you resist, though, keeping your head bowed, he sighs and squeezes your shoulders ever so gently. 

"I'll close my eyes if you don't want me to see you cry." And he offers it up so easily, holds it out to you like it's a simple allowance that you deserve. It's enough to make your head snap up, and when you turn to face Damian in his arms, your eyes are red-rimmed and sensitive from your tears.

"You've seen me cry before, Dames," you say softly, smoothing your fingers over his soaked, dripping hair.

"That doesn't mean I have the right to see it every time," he responds patiently. "And I'd rather you cry whenever you need to than have the privilege of seeing it every time you do." You hum in understanding at that, looking down at your palms as you press them against Damian's chest, ignoring the ache in your shoulder as you watch streams of water splash down his skin and onto yours. 

"Bruce is… incredibly aware of the toll that this work can take on your life and your body," he continues quietly. "He's made mistakes and learned from them so that we don't have to. For the others who learned to fight under him, it's…"

"It's ok, Dames," you say softly, the rush of water in your shared space nearly drowning out your voice. "I know the difference between me and the rest of you. Bruce reminded me of that."

"He shouldn't have."

"He just said the truth." 

You'd known that in the moment, as well - of course you had. When you'd ventured back into the Cave after a long night of patrol, rolling your shoulders and fighting against the onslaught of an old injury, you'd known that his words came from a place of help - of healing.

"You need to be careful with that," he'd said, and his voice, through the cowl, had made your hair stand on end in a way that only the Batman could. "It's your rotator cuff, isn't it? Easy to wreck if you don't pay attention to taking care of yourself."

"It's… fine," you'd replied hollowly, frozen and shifting on your feet in the face of being caught. 

"There's no use pretending you're not in pain when you are - you'll just make it worse," he'd sighed. "Anyway, there's nothing you can do to fix it now, not when the damage is already done. And it's not your fault that you weren't taught properly. But you need to learn how to take care of yourself out there. You're no use to anyone in Gotham if you wear your body into the ground. You need -"

"That's enough, Father." Damian's voice had been clipped as he strode between the two of you, his eyes narrowed at Bruce. You're sure he had more to say than that - sure that you'd caused some kind of conflict between the two of them, but you'd been too concerned with slipping out of the Cave and away from it all to really care. And Damian, with worry-clouded eyes, had let you go - let you run away once more. 

"Where'd you go, beloved," Damian's voice brings you back, his forefinger tapping gently against your nose as you blink the memory away. 

"Hm?"

"Your mind went somewhere else," he says softly, understandingly in a way that makes you bristle. "I'd prefer if you take me with you, wherever you're wandering off to."

"Bruce was wrong," you say stubbornly, looking up at Damian as he smoothes a hand up and down your spine.

"I know he was. I told him -"

"It is my fault."

"Oh…" he frowns. "No… it's not, my love."

"It is," you continue, plowing over whatever reassurances were about to be offered. You're not sure you could handle it if they really were. "It's my body, it's my problem, it's - I should've…" But you're not sure, really, what you could've done - a child puppeteered by something bigger than you, a soldier fighting a war that should not have been your own. 

"Does that make it better?" Damian asks kindly. "If it's your own doing? Does it make it easier to think that it was self-inflicted?" Your mouth snaps shut at his words, your eyes wide as you stare up at him with an exposed sort of understanding.

Damian takes your hand in his, smoothing your palm over a scar on his abdomen. You remember the incident in which he'd gotten it, of course - it had been some slip-up while he was training, all those years ago with the League of Assassins. His mother had called it a lesson, had declared that the scar should be a reminder of what he'd done wrong. 

"Our scars may be different shapes, beloved," he continues, his voice too kind for someone who's bled so much. "But they come from the same war. It is not your crime that you were controlled as you were. It is not your burden that you were used in such a way."

Your shoulder throbs as Damian speaks and you find yourself crumpling, just a bit, leaning into him and pressing your forehead against his chest as you begin to weep again. He stands, through it all - just as he always has, and you feel a pang of guilt at having shoved him back in the way that you did. 

"Damian, I-"

"It's ok," he soothes, quieting your wavering voice. "I'm right here." And as you sob into his chest, one of his hands coming up to the back of your head to press you more firmly against him while his other hand rubs up and down your back, Bruce's words echo in your head over and over and over.

The damage has already been done. The pain has already been inflicted. The scars have already been carved.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it," you choke out, heaving in a shuddering breath against Damian's chest.

"With what?"

"With all the things that are wrong with me now," you say as you breathe deeply, closing your eyes and forcing calmer exhales past your lips. 

"There is nothing wrong with you, my love," he says, and he offers it up so willingly, voice hushed and earnest like a prayer. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"My body is broken," your voice wavers as you speak, fresh tears building in your eyes. "My -  it doesn't work the way it should, or… or the way it used to. And it's not my fault, I didn't  - I didn't want this and - it's not my fault, I swear -"

"I know it's not," Damian interrupts your rambling, shushing you gently and pulling you closer with an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, his skin warm against yours. You bring your hands up to dig the heels of your palms into your closed eyes as you lean into him, matching your breaths to the steady rhythm of his own as the heat of the shower continues to dull the pain in your back and shoulder ever so slightly. 

"I don't know what we're supposed to do now," you admit slowly. "I don't know… How are we supposed to just live with this? How are we supposed to go the rest of forever trying to, I don't know…" You sort of trail off at the end, but you've found that, at this point, there are few words that really need to be spoken between the two of you. You let your fingers trace over the scar on Damian's abdomen and he hums in understanding. 

How are you supposed to live like this? As relics of a war that never should've happened - as altars to something that you'd never wished to pray to?

"I don't… know," he says haltingly, and you feel a bit guilty for asking him such an impossible question. But as you begin to shrink back from it, Damian cups your jaw in one of his hands, his palm warm and calloused against your cheek, and when he dips down to press a kiss firmly to your lips, you find that it's all a bit easier to deal with.

"I don't know, my love, what we're supposed to do with this. But we'll do it together, won't we? Whatever it is, we'll find a way together?"

"You don't have to ask that, love," you reply with another kiss, quick and gentle and promising. "Of course, it'll be together. It always is, isn't it?"

Always," he assures. "Although, I am sorry."

"For what, Dames?" you ask, a frown tugging at your lips as you reach to wipe a trail of water off his brow before it makes its way into his eyes. You can't imagine, in moments like these, when he holds you and shushes you and curls around you in such a way, what he could possibly be sorry for. 

"For not having an answer," he says simply, like he should know what's written in the stars, like he should be able to pluck the impossible from the heavens and lower it down to the earth for you. 

"You don't have to have all the answers," you assure, but a frown pulls at his lips all the same.

"I hate that you're in pain. I hate that… Beloved, you don't deserve it." You hum at that, pressing your lips together as more tears prick at the back of your eyes. You hate it, too, he knows, the dull pain that lives in you inescapably. It wears on you, too, he sees, the way that some days every movement is an ache.

"It's not your job to have all the answers," you say soothingly, and he shoots you a look, like he's pleading with you, asking you to stop comforting him so that he can comfort you. One day, you think, he'll realize that it goes both ways.

"I wish I had just this one."

"Yea," you laugh, and something flutters in his chest at the sound. "I'm sure you do. But this is all I ever need from you, you know. I'm not…" you trail off, shifting your stance as you look away. Damian lets you - always, lets you hide in plain sight in whichever ways you need to. 

"I don't know how we're supposed to live, most of the time," you continue, the uncertainty of it all rocking your stance just a bit, and Damian's arm tightens around your waist as if he knows. And, really, you're sure he does, somehow. "But I - I have always only ever wanted it to be you that I figure it out with. Even if… even if we never really get there."

"We will," he assures, and when you shoot him a long-suffering look, he brings your hand away from the scar on his abdomen and up to his face instead, pressing kisses along your knuckles. "There's nothing else we haven't been able to figure out, my love. This, I'm sure… even if it takes our whole lives, we'll figure this out, too.

"But if we don't -"

"We will -"

"But if we don't -" you continue, "I'm… I'm happy, at least, just to be right here with you. Even with all the damage that's been done. Even…" But you don't have to say it aloud, don't have to speak any of it into existence. Damian knows, and the proof is in the tender way in which he holds you, smoothing a hand over your hair and anchoring you against him with that hand on your waist. He knows. Even without an answer, perhaps the search will be enough.

[fizzyapplecandy]

The one with the shy bunny and the rowdy cat Part 2

Part 1

Ateez Seonghwa X Wooyoung X Reader

Genres and warnings: hybrid imagine, poly relationships (no mxm), strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, mild language, mild smut (in the last chapter), mature scenes

Word count: 4.7k

Special tags: @pshmars @itzbrigitte-blog @atiny-dime-p1ece

You tell the boys your story, and the three of you decide what to do next.

"Wake up you rodent!"

The blanket was pulled off you and you were grabbed by the arm. Jisung lifted you up, and you could see the anger seeping through his eyes.

"What did I say about sleeping in? Huh?! When are you gonna learn?"

He let go of you quite harshly and you fell to the floor.

Your hands went over your ears immediately, because you knew he'd pull on them otherwise.

"I-I'm sorry. I w-was so tired f-from yesterday."

He laughed. "Tired? Don't tell me you're softening up? Should we go over your morning routine, again?"

Jisung rolled up his sleeves and crouched in front of you. He was trying to intimidate you, and it was working.

"N-No Sir, please! It won't happen a-again!"

Your chin was roughly yanked up. His sinister smile brought chills down your spine.

"We'll see about that."

You were yanked from your nightmare, and you could see you were in unfamiliar surroundings. Thankfully, you escaped the events that were about to unfold in your dream. Or was it more of a memory? With everything that happened at that house of horrors, you can't quite decipher.

The room you were currently in was not yours, and you vaguely remember the events of the previous day. This is Wooyoung's and Seonghwa's house, and they were kind enough to let you rest and eat. You had to get going soon, otherwise they'd think you're greedy and regret helping you.

You glanced at the alarm clock on the table, your every bulging out in shock. How have you slept past 12 o'clock? That never happened, you weren't allowed. What would the boys think?

Oh God. Would they think you're doing this to stay longer than you're welcomed? How would you explain this?

Thankfully, your train of thought was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

"Bunny? Are you finally up? I'd let you sleep more, but I'm so bored out here! Can I come in?"

Why was he asking for your permission to enter his room? He could go whatever he wanted. You were too lost in your thoughts to answer, so he lightly knocked again.

"Bunny?"

"C-Come in." You whispered, hoping he'd hear you.

Wooyoung slowly opened the door and stepped inside. He was wearing comfy clothes that seemed too big on him, but he looked cute. Maybe he'd give you something to take with you when you leave today. His sweaters seemed warm enough for the weather outside.

"Good morning sleepyhead. How was your night?"

You leaned up against the headboard, hugging your knees to your chest.

"I-It was fine. I s-slept well." You cleared your throat and continued.

"W-When can I go? I-I'm sorry I didn't wake up earlier."

He looked flabbergasted for a second.

"Go? What do you mean go?"

"Well... I have to leave today, r-right?"

He was next to you in a flash, grabbing both of your hands and squeezing them tightly. Your eyes widened, and you froze in place.

"You're not going anywhere bunny! I... We told you yesterday that you're staying here! Hwa told me not to talk to you about it before he gets home, but he knows I won't listen."

Wooyoung noticed your stance, so he softened his hold on you. He shuffled closer, placing his head on your knees. You could see the mole under his eye clearly, and he did look adorable. The smile on his face soon reflected on you, and you loosened up.

"Y-You really want me to s-stay?"

He nodded, placing a soft kiss on one of your knees.

"We really do. Hwa said it's up to you in the end, but just so you know, I won't stop until you're ours."

Your gaze now softened. Wooyoung was serious about keeping you, and Seonghwa seemed to be on the same page. The cat was rooted in the spot, not moving his head from your knees, and then you remembered something from yesterday.

Almost shyly, you placed your hand on his head. His eyes widened, but surprisingly, he kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to ruin the moment. After making yourself comfortable, you placed your fingers behind his ear and started scratching.

Immediately, he began purring, and you felt the vibrations from his chest on your legs. His eyes closed, and the cat looked absolutely blissful.

"That's the spot... You're so good at this bunny. I could crash out right here."

Which he literally did. He pushed your knees down until your legs were flat on the bed before he laid himself over them. His head was now on your plush thighs, his arms around your waist. Wooyoung looked peaceful, and you weren't about to ruin the moment, even though you felt a bit nervous.

"Keep going, I'm just getting comfortable."

Your hand went back to his ear, the other one smoothing down his ruffled black hair.

The purrs were only getting louder as time went on. You didn't even know for how long you've been at it for.

Wooyoung shifted on the bed, and you could see his tail swishing more rapidly in the air. The energy changed, and the room became stuffy all of the sudden. You weren't used to this feeling, so you tried moving, but it only made the cat protest.

"No, no, don't stop. I was just about to..." As if he suddenly realised something, he shot up from his position and you could now clearly see the deep flush of his cheeks. His gaze was intense, and you didn't know what to do, or say. Luckily, Wooyung always had something to say.

"That was the best scratch of my life, bunny. I wish you'd let me do it to you as well."

You cowered away a bit, placing your hands over your ears. He wouldn't do that now, would he? You told them yesterday that you didn't want that. Wooyoung sensed your fear, and shook his head.

"Don't worry, I won't do it. I respect your wishes. It's just a shame..." He glanced at your bunny ears again before standing up from the bed.

He clapped his hands excitedly. "Now! Off we go, we have breakfast to make. Well, lunch to be precise. Hwa knows I like to sleep in, but I was too pumped to see you so I woke up really early. But, I didn't do a thing, so now we have to hurry before he comes home."

The cat turned around and went towards the door. He glanced back at you, still frozen in your spot.

"I'll set out some clothes in the bathroom, go change and come keep me company."

With that, he left you alone again to process the last thirty minutes.

He was a peculiar being, and you kind of liked him because of that. He was unapologetically himself, and he showed affection towards others with no problem.

Wooyoung made you comfortable, and you were thankful for that.

You got out of bed feeling a bit lighter, and made your way towards the bathroom. You could hear pots and glasses being moved in the kitchen, so you figured Wooyoung started on lunch.

There was a fresh set of clothes on the washer that smelled strongly of Wooyoung, so you knew those were only his clothes. He probably made sure to scent them even more before he placed them in the bathroom, because you also noticed his possessiveness along with other quirks.

Your morning routine was cut incredibly short because Wooyoung was shouting for you to hurry up every two minutes. He followed up with 'I miss you, I need you here.' and it honestly gave you a headache. You kind of understand Seognhwa better.

"There you are! I was about to pass out of boredom. Look at you! So cute in my clothes!" He sniffed around you, looking pleased with himself. There was still a trace of your scent left, but it mixed well with his. He grabbed you by the hand and sat you on a chair by the kitchen island.

"Now, my little helper, you just sit here and look pretty."

"B-But I want to do s-something."

He crouched down and gently placed his hands on your cheeks, squishing your face and cooing at you.

"You're doing so much just by being here. I won't be so lonely anymore, and that's the best thing you can do."

You looked into each other's eyes, and you had to admit, he was incredibly handsome so up close.

"I w-won't be lonely either." You managed to say.

"Oh sweetie..."

Before you knew it, his arms went around you and he pushed his face into the crook of your neck. Wooyoung inhaled deeply, letting himself enjoy the moment of closeness with someone that wasn't Hwa.

The other thing he noticed was how you made him feel something Seognhwa certainly didn't, and that might become a problem.

He smiled when he felt your tiny hands on his back, unsure, but eager to reciprocate the affection.

"Take your time, bunny. You can hug me, and pet me, and kiss me anytime you want, you know?"

You pulled back to look at his face, now extremely close to yours.

"K-Kiss?"

He nodded. "Yeah, kiss. You know what that is, right?"

"Kind o-of." You whispered.

The grin on his face made him more wolfish than a cat, and you kind of shied away.

"I can show you, you know. I promise you'll like it."

You didn't know what to say. On one hand, his offer was tempting. You were sure Wooyoung wouldn't do anything harmful, but the idea of a kiss was new to you.

"Hmm? What do you say, bunny? Can I show you?"

His finger traced your cheek, slowly going over your bottom lip. He paid close attention to your reaction, and he was pleased to find you almost completely relaxed around him.

His hand went back to your cheek, caressing it softly, before he began leaning down.

You kind of wanted it to happen. You remember the other hybrids at the shelter talking about how they wished they'd get many kisses, and how it was such a lovely thing. You don't remember it being quite like this, but you didn't want to complain. Having Wooyoung so close made you feel kind of warm inside.

The universe seemed to think this wasn't the right moment, because you heard the front door opening.

"Guys? I'm home!" Seonghwa's voice boomed through the apartment, and the both of you froze in place. Wooyoung was quick to snap out of it, going back to the counter and grabbing a knife to cut the vegetables he laid out. You, however, sat completely still, cheeks probably red, and couldn't get a single word out.

"We're in the kitchen! Lunch will be served a bit late today!"

"What? You know I have to go back to the bakery in two hours."

Seonghwa was about to complain some more, but when he rounded the corner and noticed your dazed expression and Wooyoung's tense back, he stopped.

"What's going on?" he asked, pointing at you.

Wooyoung turned around, and now he saw his flustered expression matching yours.

"What? Nothing? What are you talking about? Come and help if you want to eat."

Seonghwa turned towards you. "Is everything okay, Y/N?"

You managed to nod slightly, but he didn't want to pry anymore. There were more serious topics you needed to discuss after lunch.

He went over to Wooyoung and the men made a quick meal for all of you. There wasn't any conversation flowing between you after they encouraged you to take a bite like yesterday.

It wasn't until Seognhwa was washing the dishes that he cleared his throat and got your and Wooyoung's attention.

"I suppose you've already told Y/N about our offer?"

Wooyoung nodded rather enthusiastically from his spot on the couch. You were perched on the sofa, too far away for his liking, but you were still apprehensive about your little encounter.

"That I did. Ask her hyung, please, please!"

Seognhwa put down the dish towel he was holding and made his way over to the two of you. He sat beside Wooyoung, who was gleaming from joy.

"Well, Y/N... We know you have had a tough time, and we figured you'd be safer with us here. Wooyoung needs a friend, and I find you really lovely. What do you say about staying with us permanently?"

You glanced at them, keeping quiet even though your thoughts were scattered. Wooyoung has made it clear that he wants you here, and now Seonghwa only confirmed it. Could you really start over with them?

"I... I w-want to stay, but... T-There's nothing special about me. I-I'm not fun to be around."

The cat's eyes widened, and he dropped to his knees in front of you, holding onto your knees as if you'd disappear any second.

"Don't say that! You're so small and soft, and so pretty. And! You give the best pets. I'm sorry Hwa, but this girl right here, she's a pro."

The blonde man chuckled at his hybrid's antics. At least he managed to bring a small smile onto your face.

"You hear him Y/N? Wooyoung thinks you are special, and so do I. It's up to you in the end, we won't force you to stay. If you want to go, then-"

"No! Absolutely not!" Wooyoung tightened his grip around your legs and shook his head.

"Woo, let go of her. We need to let Y/N answer for herself."

Wooyoung got quiet, but he didn't let go. You somehow knew he wouldn't, and you didn't mind.

Thinking it over in your head, the logical option would be to keep living with them. You wouldn't be in fear 24/7, and you would always have a warm bed, and some company. You were starting to like the black cat, and Seonghwa seemed like a person you could trust. He wasn't like other humans you've met, but you doubted there would be anything worse than Jisung.

Speaking of him, you probably had to tell them about yourself and your situation. You were still legally Jisung's, and that could cause problems.

"I-I'd like to stay here w-with you."

"Yes! Oh yes, yes! Thank you bunny!" Wooyoung shot up from his place on the floor and practically climbed onto your lap. It was a tight fit on the sofa, but you moved around to accommodate him. Seonghwa watched with amusement at you, coming to sit on the floor in front of you both.

"That's wonderful. We can take you shopping tomorrow, you need new clothes. Although Wooyoung wouldn't mind sharing his, I still think you need your own wardrobe."

You lifted your head from the cat's chest and gazed into Seonghwa's kind eyes.

"Are you sure? I-I can manage with anything."

He nodded. "Absolutely. You deserve it."

Seognhwa took a deep breath before continuing.

"Now comes the not so fun part. We need to know what happened to you. Do you have an owner, or are you really a stray?"

Even though you knew the question was coming, it didn't make it any easier to answer. Wooyoung stoked your arm and it encouraged you to start telling them your story. Surprisingly, your voice didn't tremble one bit.

"I lived at a shelter before Jisung came and adopted me. He seemed nice enough, and I really wanted to have a home to call my own. It didn't take long for him to show his true colours... Life with him..." You kind of got lost in your thoughts for a moment, but the boys didn't pressure you to go on. They waited until you took a couple deep breaths, and Seonghwa intervened.

"It's okay sweetie. You don't have to go into detail, we kind of get it now. You, and Wooyoung, have to realise that we can't just keep you here. It wouldn't be legal. We have to find your owner and get him to sign over the paperwork."

Your eyes widened and you de tangled yourself from Wooyoung.

"Please no! Please! I can't see him again, he'll take me away!" You were now on your knees in front of Seonghwa, pleading with him, hands clasped together.

The poor man didn't know what to do. Seonghwa knew this wasn't going to be easy.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but we can't do this without him. We can give it a couple more days, but we risk losing you forever if we keep quiet about it. If we look at this from a legal perspective, it will seem like we stole you from him."

"That's not fair! That's pure crap!" Wooyoung's ears were now pinned straight on his head, and his tail angrily swished behind him. The boy was angry, and if Wooyoung managed to get so angry, it was serious.

"I'm sorry Woo, but I'm just stating facts."

Seonghwa carefully took your hands in his, sensing how stressed you became. Your nose was twitching constantly, and your fluffy bunny ears were down turned.

"Y/N, I promise you, I will do everything I can to make you ours. We won't give up on you. As I've said, let's give it some time before we do anything drastic. We'll let you settle in, but then we have to get serious."

You sniffed, and tears were about to fall out of your red eyes.

"But what if he wants to take me back? I don't want to go with him Seonghwa."

If you weren't in such poor shape, he'd feel even better hearing his name coming from you in that sweet voice of yours. But now was not the time, so he took a chance and wrapped his arms around your small frame.

"We're not giving you up. If he wants to fight, we'll take him. Isn't that right Woo?"

The cat was behind you in a flash, wrapping his arms around Seonghwa's, squishing you between them.

"Yes, absolutely. I won't let him have you bunny. You're ours now. Don't think about the bad stuff anymore, from now on, we're going to be so happy together. To celebrate-" He stood up and went over to Seonghwa's bag on the counter.

He rummaged around and Seonghwa groaned.

"-We will be going shopping right now! We can't wait until tomorrow, we want to make our bunny happy. Ah, here it is!"

He pulled out Seonghwa's wallet and took out what seemed to be a credit card.

"This right here is Y/N's ticket to happiness! Come now, we have to hurry! We've got a long day ahead. You don't mind Hwa, right? I mean, you're practically rich, so let us enjoy it."

"I work hard for that money, you know?"

Wooyoung pulled you away from his, no, not his, your owners hands.

"I know. And we will appreciate it even more, isn't that right bunny?"

You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded.

"See, we agree. Now, let's go! We'll see you tonight Hwa!"

Wooyoung quickly pulled you out the door before you had a chance to protest, and off the two of you went. It gave Seonghwa a chance to assess their situation in peace.

They wanted you with them, that much was certain, but what about your owner? He must be a bad man, otherwise you wouldn't have ran off. They had to build a good case and present it to a judge. That way, they could have you without much hassle. It would be better for you as well, seeing how easily frightened you became at the thought of going back to your previous home.

He had another half hour before he had to make his way back to work, and an idea popped into his head. It was time to use some of his friend's legal skills. With his phone in his hand, he dialed a number he knew by heart. After two rings, the person on the other end picked up.

"Hey there Hongjoong, how are you? Good, good... Say, would you be interested in taking on a new hybrid case?"

.

.

"Do you want a blanket? I can share my kitty one, but some nights I like it all to myself. Oh! We can sleep in the same bed, that way we can both have it at the same time!"

Wooyoung was too enthusiastic about this shopping trip. The rollercoaster of emotions you went through didn't seem to phase him, or maybe he was just trying to distract you from thinking about anything as well.

It was working, to some degree.

You were now in a random store, picking through shirts and pants for you. There was an obvious colour pallet of soft pinks and lilacs going around, and Wooyoung couldn't get enough of making cute outfits for you. It was a stark contrast to the black mini skirts and tight tank tops Jisung made you wear.

After two bags filled with clothes, you moved on to some personal things for your room. You'd obviously have to share with Wooyoung, according to him, so you could pick something to add to his shelves.

You were interested in the colouring books, so he picked those up, as well as a bracelet making kit. He said you'd do it together, and make the three of you friendship bracelets.

"I can sleep on the couch, you know? It's your room after all."

He almost looked offended by that.

"On the couch? No, not a chance. We're sharing now, I want to do it. Unless..." He looked kind of sad.

"Unless you don't want to? I can be a bit much, I know... But I really want us to stay together."

Maybe even the confident cat needed some reassurance from time to time. You came close to him and took his hand in yours.

"I think I will be just fine."

He quickly covered his surprise with a smile, which you mirrored back at him.

Before you knew it, your hands were filled with bags, your feet were killing you, and your stomach hasn't stopped growling for half an hour.

"W-Wooyoung, I think I'm done shopping for today. I don't know how you enjoy this."

Only then did he notice how worn out his bunny was.

As soon as you opened the front door, you could sense a delicious aroma going around the apartment. Seonghwa's shoes were on the rack, so you figured he didn't want to wait for Wooyoung to come back and cook.

"Oh baby! Come on, let's head back. We need to decorate our room, pack your stuff, cook dinner.. If Hwa comes home to an empty stove he'll crash out." Wooyoung giggled, and you sensed this wouldn't be the first time he'd made Hwa wait for his meals.

"Hey! Did you have a good time today?" You heard his voice before you rounded the corner trailing behind Wooyoung. Seonghwa was already seated at the kitchen island, a variety of delicious side dishes and a stew spread across the surface.

"We had the best time! Thank you for your money hyung!" Wooyoung placed a kiss on top of Seonghwa's head before sitting down next to him.

"Is this what kisses are like?" The boys looked over at you, and Seonghwa was confused. The cat next to him froze for a second.

"Well, yes. Wooyoung likes to give kisses. You can tell him no if he tries."

"Maybe... Maybe I'd want one too."

The boys looked at each other, a bit surprised. Well, Wooyoung wasn't, because he knew if Seonghwa hadn't come home when he did, you'd be long past kissing. If you asked him, that is.

"Y/N, do you want kisses?" Seonghwa asked.

You nodded, too afraid to speak up. This wasn't something you'd usually do, but looking at how happy they were, you wanted to try it out.

Before Seonghwa could even stand up, Wooyoung was in front of you, holding onto your cheeks. You looked up at him, and his gaze almost made you melt.

"You're gonna get different kisses than Hwa, and I hope that's okay."

You were confused for a second, before you felt it.

The light peck he left on your lips.

It was fast, and it felt more like a soft touch than a real kiss, but it still happened. The two of you looked at each other, and you hoped your cheeks weren't flaming red. Wooyoung's certainly were.

"Hey Woo, you can't just kiss the lady like that. You have to ask for-"

"It's okay, Seonghwa." You interrupted him before he got too angry at the silly cat. Wooyoung let go of you, and you made your way to your potential new owner. You weren't as comfortable with him as you were with your fellow hybrid, but that was expected. You did, however, find him ridiculously beautiful and kind, and you knew your bond would grow stronger.

"I... Wooyoung is the closest thing I've had to a friend in a long time... He makes me feel... Safe. You do as well. I hope you don't mind me doing this, but I want to show you how thankful I am."

You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, catching his eyes afterwards. He was smiling, and his eyes glazed over.

"Thank you, sweetie. I'd also like to give you a little kiss, is that okay?"

You nodded, and Hwa gave you a tender kiss on the cheek as well.

"Oh come on hyung, you call that a kiss?"

"Shut it kitty cat or I'm taking Y/N all to myself tomorrow."

Wooyoung gasped, starting to ramble about how unfair life was, and many other things you couldn't quite catch on.

Dinner was great, and you ate with a smile on your face. The boys helped you unpack afterwards, and Hwa put all of the clothes in the washing machine. Tonight you'd wear something of theirs again, but tomorrow you'll be in your own jumpers and shorts. You chose them yourself, and that was the most important thing.

Afterwards, all three of you took turns in the shower before Hwa came into your room to settle you for the night.

This will be your first night sleeping with Wooyoung, and he looked more than excited.

"Now remember Woo, let the girl breathe. You can cuddle, but you can't squish her. Ask her before you try, please. And no funny business, I'm serious."

Seonghwa looked like a mom scolding her child, but Wooyoung didn't mind. He only nodded, making sure you were settled in before coming closer to your body.

"Can I cuddle you, bunny? Only till I fall asleep, then you can roll me over!"

You nodded, finding it funny how he eagerly made the two of you comfortable. His strong arms wrapped around your middle, and his head rested on top of yours.

"There we go. Kick him if you need to Y/N." Seonghwa stood up and turned on the little night light across the room.

Before he went out, he called your name again.

"I've spoken to a good friend of mine today. He's a hybrid law student, and he's going to help us with your case. We've got the best or the best here, so you'll be officially ours in no time."

Your eyes softened as you watched him, and you couldn't believe somebody you've met a couple days ago would go through such a hassle for you.

"Thank you, Seonghwa. You're the best."

"That he is! Good job hyung!"

"Oh will you let me have a moment with her? Thank you Y/N." He sighed when he saw his cat pouting.

"Thank you Wooyoung. Now go to sleep."

He shut the door to their room and left them to their own devices.

Today was a big day for Y/N, so Wooyoung made sure to tone down the conversation as much as he could. That didn't mean he could stop talking altogether.

"I'm so happy right now I could jump around!"

You smiled. "Please don't, I'm too tired to watch out for you."

"You? For me? Oh that makes me feel special." He laughed.

His arms tightened around you, and he let out a satisfied sigh.

"You're our bunny now... My pretty bunny..."

With that, the two of you fell into a deep sleep, and for the first time in forever...

You didn't have any nightmares.

.

.

The Final part will be out sometime next week, so stay tuned to see how their story turns out. :)

Lots of love, and happy reading X

[shatcey]

Lover Contract (Victor)

I will not make summary… there is not much plot in this story. They came to this club (for lovers only), noticed the guy they needed to check out, and… look around a bit. That's all. But�� Kate and Victor had interesting (even philosophical) thoughts, and I would like to reflect on them…

But before that… Victor spoils us a lot with his gentle expression at this event. And… because of that, it took me longer than usual to read it… I just couldn't help but stare at him..

(smiles tenderly) He's so cute…

The post turned out to be quite big. Like like my theory post… very big. I am surprised myself. But I mentioned that I liked this event, even though it didn't have much plot, it contained a lot of interesting thoughts and made me think. More than usual… if that even possible.

They came to this club to confirm that one of the Prime Council member is having an affair. And they noticed him right away… Victor was contemplating…

Despite the fact that he seems to be a person who sees everything only in white and black… bad or good… He doesn't divide people based on that. In his eyes, they are all the same. Friends or foes… they all are just people. The only reason he decided he had to use this information against the guy… because he needs to protect Crown. If he didn't have to, what would he decide? I wondering…

And after that, they noticed another acquaintance… The guy who is famous for being a faithful husband and even making speeches about it… But it turned out that he has a mistress.

Victor looks extremely angry here. That's not the right word… he looks at the guy with disdain. The fact that someone is cheating annoys him, as if for some reason it is very personal to him. Had someone betrayed him? Had someone betrayed his loved ones?

At the very end of the main part of the story… Kate… looking at all these unfaithful spouses thinking out loud…

After everything she'd seen… unsurprisingly, she began to doubt…

He's fascinated by love in general. I have a feeling it has something to do with his curse… Freedom and love… All fairy tales are about at least one of these concepts, but they're usually about protoganist, not antoganist. Was there antagonist somewhere who did bad things for love??? I… don't remember… If ANY love is "fascinating"… As Ally said in the Chocolate event, "everything is fair in love and war." It must be somehow related… No, I still can't catch that thought…

A long sentence on the middle screenshot… can be not entirely correct. I found a very interesting dictionary. It's quite easy to split a sentence into words. BUT… most languages have a very strict order of words in a sentence. And if you know this order, you can easily understand that the part of the speech every word should be. But… there are no special restrictions in my native language… as you may have noticed, I'm constantly playing with words.So, out of habit, I could interpret these words as I see fit. Even adjust it to my thoughts. There was a question in the original text, but it was in the middle. But to make it sound more logical, I changed the sentence to this.

And this wording of his makes me think that he is not a human. He talks about them as if he is just an observer… and has nothing to do with them…

And here we go… What he said earlier was… just a fact, and he doesn't judge others, this it their life. But personally he doesn't like cheating. Nice to know.

Bitter ending

After a short walk (I don't see the point in telling you what happened there, it's not relevant) they return back to the main hall. Kate is thirsty (I wonder why), Vivi notices this and orders drinks.

Well, he's a second Gilly-bee. He probably knows more about you than you know yourself…

I played with the words again, but it seems more correct than what the mechanical translation suggested to me. So… she feels like he's far away… for many reasons: age, experience, knowledge, status… But he takes it literally. The distance. We learned from the LINE campaign that he has been looking out for her from a DISTANCE for a very long time. And… he feels lonely because even though he is with her right now, she still thinks he is far away.

If I had read this BEFORE the LINE campaign, perhaps I would have interpreted these words as his usual sad thoughts about loneliness. But now everything is completely different. And in the next part, he literally says it. He took her hand and told her that he was here with her. And he's "just like her." It's a very peculiar wording. I'm not going to talk about it now. I'm more happy about the next part. He never considered himself free.

He FINALLY admitted it. Where it was… in one of my theory posts… I was talking about freedom… here. It was pretty obvious, but Vivi had never confirmed it before… But here… he really became more open, more… naked, as he said in the epilogue… It was as if he no longer had the desire to remain an observer with her… It feels like we're already in the middle of his route. I'll explain why I think so later.

Kate had an interesting thought…

It makes me think about that damn…. fish… again… I know she's not a fish, she's kind of humanoid. Thatever! The mermaid is not the villain in this story… She's a victim. A victim of betrayal. She suffers from the moment she fell in love until the very end. But… It seems that everything fits too well into the story… And the fact that he takes care of her from a distance, and the fact that he used to be free, but no anymore… It's just too similar. Annoying so. Calm down, girl, it's too early to riled up. But if his curse is that damn fish, I'll scream!

And the fact that Kate either thinks of him that way, or already knows about it… It seems that this is already his route.

Premium ending

We talked for a while on the balcony. After Kate said that she now considers love to be freer than she originally thought… Victor suddenly noticed.

IT'S SO CLOSE!!! But not quite. Oh, what a shame! If you don't understand what I'm implying, I've written about it here.

And after Kate asks, "What kind of love is Victor looking for?"

I don't need Harrison to confirm this, it's obvious that he's lying. Well… he wasn't lying, but he wasn't completely honest either. Yes, he's obsessed with taking care of everyone, but… It's more like… a habit. I don't know… or… unfulfilled desire… Projection, maybe?… No one cared about him, so he's doing this for others?........

Kate was more honest when Vivi asked her the same question. She said that despite the fact she had seen many very strange expressions of love today… and she began to understand the difficulties associated with spending her life with one person, but…

It's a very sweet dream… And look at him… he fully shares her dream. But he decided to NOT said it out loud and pretend to be a clown again. Sad…

Don't talk like it's not going to be you or… to be completely honest… already you.

In the epilogue, she thought that she wants Vivi to love her, and the way her heart stops all the time is a great hint of this as well. SO… we are already in the middle of his route. BUT it hasn't been released yet. The paradox.

I will only mention this from the epilogue…

Now I'm curious to see…

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🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[logoleptic-since-06]

Every Corner of This House is Haunted

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader Content: Fem!Reader, Angst, Profanity, Reader and Nanami are in their 30s, Not Proofread

Chapter VIII -> Masterlist if this Series

As you stare at your almost ex husband in front of you, a flashback plays in a film reel at the back of your mind. Meeting him for the first time, your first date, your wedding, moving in with him, him getting promotions after promotions, a distance forming between you, leaving him, signing the divorce papers, kissing Suguru–

You jerk awake from your thoughts, guilt creeping into your chest as your breathing becomes more laboured. It worsens when Kento looks up and for the first time in over a month, your eyes meet. The film reel pauses as if it were truly a movie, and so does everything and everyone around you two. An unknown force moves you closer to the booth he is sitting at.

“Hello, Y/N,” he says simply, his voice collected as always.

For some reason, you tell him, “I kissed Suguru.”

A single tick of his jaw, a single twitch in his eye– his reaction is subtle, almost unnoticeable, but holds more power than the ocean during a storm.

“I didn’t know he was in town,” the calm in his tone is almost dangerous.

Almost.

“He was for a few days.”

“I see.”

There is an electrifying silence until he breaks it. “Did you want it to happen?”

“I didn’t want to do it, it was in the heat of the moment. And that’s not a justification, I know. I don’t want to justify myself, I just want you to know I regret it.” You learn more about yourself as the words leave your mouth. Seeing Kento unexpectedly seems to have opened a gateway in your brain– the gateway that leads you to finally process what you did with Suguru.

He doesn’t get mad. He never gets mad, he never yells. That’s not Kento. Instead, he asks, “Then why did you do it?”

“I was afraid,” you tell him truthfully. “I was afraid that I didn’t know a life without you, afraid that I would need you for the rest of my life. So I kissed him, partially to prove to myself that I didn’t need you, and partially because I was selfish and wanted validation.”

His silence makes your heart clench, so you go on, finally admitting the truth to both yourself and him. “But when I did, I felt nothing. Not validated, not less scared. But one thing I became sure of was that I didn’t need you. I never did. I want you, and I want you to want me. In a way you never did until I walked away.”

“I neglected you,” he says finally. “I neglected you and told myself it was for your own good. That if I had a little more money, a little more luxury, we would lead a happier life. I was so caught up with greed that I’d forgotten to treasure the greatest form of happiness I was blessed with. You.”

This is when your tears come running down your eyes. This conversation has been long due, and it kills you to think it took a disaster for this conversation to happen. He goes on, “I know things will never be the same, and I know we are both flawed people.”

You know what he’s about to say next, so you say it instead. “But I want to make things work.”

He nods once.

The tension in the air doesn’t snap, but it softens. Your heartbeat becomes steadier. “We take it slow?”

His voice is smooth as ever. “We do it together.”

A/N: If you saw me post this a few hours ago, no you didn't. (I forgot to tag)

Tags: @itsafairytalekay  @qualitygiantshoepsychic  @uzuimirika  @coffeeandcrimeshows  @lov3vivian  @lady-of-blossoms  @lavenderdaydream97  @gigiiiiislife  @yeehawbrothers  @heartsforkento  @loveliest-ghostwriter  @darkstudentsaladbakery    @for-hearthand-home  @creative1writings  @corvid007  @realesttruther  @jades-bullshit  @patpatspatz  @yunho-leeknow  @layuhsblog  @luringfantasy  @justbelljust  @nanamiswife22 @belle-oftheball34  @gradmacoco

[ethereacals]

so american

chapter 5: love is embarrassing

synopsis: Remus grows attached to an American transfer student from lIvermorny

trope: idiots in love, grumpy x sunshine

pairing: remus lupin x american!reader

cw: it’s a lil sad, but everything is resolved! kind of?

a/n: sorry it’s a bit of a short one! chapter 7 out tonight/tomorrow morning! love u all and thank you for your patience (:

STANDING ON THE EDGE of the black lake with Remus felt different this go around.

He kept trying to speak— but words continued to fail.

“These are for you.” You shyly handed him the Galaxy Minstrels, his very favorite chocolate.

You gave him his favorite chocolate.

“Y/N, I—“ He paused, running a scarred hand through his already disheveled hair in contemplation.

“It’s okay, Remus. I jumped the gun.” You finished for him.

“No, you didn't. I was a dick and you have every right to hold everything against me." Remus communicated.

"Remus, I would never hold something that you cannot psyhically control against you." You promised, grabbing his hand gently.

"You don’t have to accept any part of me ever, please— I would never force anything on you—“

“I cherish every part of you.”

“But you don’t have to cherish any—“

"I don't care what you are, Remus. You are radiant." You emphasized.

Remus froze lightly, as you scanned his features.

"Besides, now I know where all of these beautiful scars came from." You traced your fingers over the carefully carved divots of his face.

"I— I’m not beautiful-"

“And how can you say that?

“Because I see myself in the mirror everyday and—“

"Remus, tell me; When a exquisite sculpture cracks, does that make it any less exquisite?"

"I— Er— no?”

“They still display it proudly, don’t they?”

“I suppose..”

“Like the Venus de Milo, it’s practically adored because it’s broken.

And he was silenced.

"That's how I see you." You smiled sweetly, brushing his cheek as he cracked a small smile.

"You have a way with words, Dove." Remus mused.

"I've learned from the best." You giggled, marveling at his hazel eyes.

“Doesn’t mean i’m going to believe them just yet.”

“As long as I can affirm it to you and get you to believe them one day then that’s all I want.”

A comfortable silence washed over the lake, as Remus pulled you in for a tight embrace.

He got his acceptance, and you got your clarity.

"I'd never wish anything to happen to this, Dove."

“Same here.” You notioned.

“…So about my mistake?” You gazed back up to him.

“Don’t worry about it.” Remus assured kindly.

“I—I still feel guilty, those weren’t my intentions—“

“It’s fine, honey. I’m not upset one bit, okay?” Remus bent down to look you in the eyes.

“Okay…”

“Okay.”

Remus was so incredibly comforting.

He was nearly identical to a large blanket engulfing you after a long tiring day, or listening to your favorite song after something went wrong.

Remus was comfort.

"We both have to make a promise," You started. "No more self-deprecating comments about yourself." "And- for me, no feelings." You attempted to convince yourself that it was a good idea.

"I can try, dove." Remus shook your hand gently, and escorted you back to the castle and up to your common room.

"NO FEELINGS?" Lily gawked, stepped towards you.

"It just came out! I can't ruin our friendship, this was way too much of a close call." You insisted, trust-falling onto your bed.

"Honey, you loved him." Mary visibly delated in her chair.

"And I still do, but I love him so dearly that I'd rather us stay safe and friends then dangerous and together." You explained solemnly.

"Besides, he doesn't like me."

"Doesn't like you? Y/N, the boy looks at you like you hung the stars!" Molly argued, watching you from her vanity mirror.

Molly Prewitt shared a dorm with you, Lily, Mary, and Marlene.

She was an 8th year who was only staying at Hogwarts to shadow Professor Slughorn for potions.

"How did you and Arthur work it out?" Mary asked the ginger.

"You have to train them, like dogs. Good boyfriends are practically DIYs." She taught, finishing up removing her makeup.

"But he's already trained, and he's perfect. I can't ruin him or our friendship." You sighed.

“Love is exasperating.” Marlene attempted to console you.

“No, love is embarrassing.” You grumbled.

The next few days with Remus just improved your friendship once more.

The library dates were back, and the evening strolls around the courtyard too.

You knew your feelings would never go away, selfishly— you never wanted them too.

You wished for them to grow and flourish, weaving into your ribs and spine— becoming permanent.

But you knew selflessly that you couldn’t have him.

Suddenly— a light knock on your dorm door broke you out of your cocooned thoughts.

You were the only one there, maybe someone forgot their key?

“Y/N, could I steal you for a moment?” James asked, smiling pleasantly as he pulled you inside.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, well— it will be as soon as this conversation is finished— hopefully.” He started.

“You’re scaring me..” Your brows furrowed gently.

“I’m not at all meaning too, I’m here to propose something.”

“Mhm?”

“You like Remus, I like Regulus.”

“I- I don’t like Remus.”

James paused, “…Sure.”

“Anyways— Lily and Mary were talking to me and they mentioned that the way they got each others attention was by dating other people to basically make them see how they’d treat each other if they were together.” James rambled, taking a breath before his next point.

“So— you and I, we date each other for like— a month or something and then hopefully we will get the attention of our respective suitors and then it’s happily ever after!” James finished, and quite convincingly too.”

“James— I promised Remus no feelings, he doesn’t want me.”

“That’s the thing, he thinks he is doing you both a favor by being stubborn and staying friends. News flash— he’s not. The bloke is pining, burning, and perishing.” James nearly was gasping for air.

“I don’t know..”

“Please? pleasepleasepleaseplea—l

“Fine! Fine. I’ll fake date you for a little while.” You caved in, but in reality you’d do anything for James.”

“Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthank—“

“It’s no problem, James— but seriously, no feelings.”

“Absolutely no feelings other than happy and friendly ones.” He insisted cheerfully.

“I’m not into extroverts anyways.”

“And I’m into french accents, you’re safe.” He smiled, before taking your hand and strutting into common room with you.

This was going to be embarrassing.

stay tuned for chapter 6 of so american

@hisparentsgallerryy @lydpop @amatoanima @po3tbbygirl @thequeen0fhearts @yourlittlefries @jsprien213 @liviessun @wandasbitch22 @michtellch @hellokitty-girl666 @bmyva1entine @n1ght-vngel @anehkael @wolfstcr @assorted-knives @mrsblackx @moonyswifee @sunset-toast t @sammyreid @wsplalala @msfandomsblog @yimthesynonym @flowerytombx i @rubyinthebooks

so american taglist

[briskchips]

You think SMC is ever gonna get a redemption ? I am saying this because the game seem to heavily hint at that. Unlike mystic flour and burning spice (the previous beast we got) SMC is the only beast so far to actively seek companionship with his counterpart rather than to destroy him.

This is purely speculation but based on the info we currently have, the beasts don’t really seem to….LIKE each other very much. Sure they work together and are on the same side BUT it’s only because they have the same goal. It’s out of OBLIGATION rather than genuine SOLIDARITY. SMC calls them “friends” but the same cannot be said for the others (that we have so far). If SMC truly see the beasts as his friends then WHY does he feel so lonely ? Shouldn’t he feel overjoyed that he has companions at his side ? UNLESS he is lying to himself. He is trying to convince himself that they care about him because they are the ONLY ones he has left.

but there come PV, the first person to ever want to be friend with SMC out of GENUINE KINDNESS instead of OBLIGATION. Once he realize this fact, I think SMC might go on a journey of self reflection and perhaps even betray the other beasts and dark enchantress.

sorry about this rambling, these cookies have consumed my every thought 😭

YES do not apologize for rambling I love to read it

I sure hope they're going for a SMC redemption!

SMC repeatedly insisted that he and PV were the only ones who understood each other all throughout beast yeast 8, and while I do think that could still be SMC lying to gain PV's favour (we really have to take every word outta his mouth with a grain of salt), the way he fell SO easily for PV's lie really shows that he craves some kind of equal. The master of deceit would always know better than to accept anyone's words at face value, but he IMMEDIATELY joined up with PV and allowed him control of the realm just at the offer of partnership. If he was aware of any risk, he didn't care in that moment. I mean think about the wording! PV offers both himself and the soul jam at the same time, but the thing SMC chooses to focus in on is PV!

It might've been about the soul jam initially, and I'm sure he still cares about it a lot, but the possibility of having an actual, genuine friend has to have surpassed it by now. That cookie is LONELY and its so obvious, but I think he's gonna get in his own way. He seems way too stubborn to EVER accept PV's proposal unless he's desperate. Not to mention how betrayed he feels now.

I also don't think that PV would be willing to let SMC go just yet. He felt that same connection too, and after struggling with his own relationship with truth all his life, I can't imagine he'd just give up on the only person who's truly understood him. And with his awakened form now being the light of compassion, I think he'd have a bit of a saviour mentality toward SMC. He experienced the same breakdown SMC did, and he made it out to other side. Of COURSE he wants him to experience the same! If anyone can guide him toward a better life, PV wants it to be him (though I'm sure he doubts his own abilities in that).

I think I could see it beginning as a unition against a common enemy. Same as you said; the beasts don't seem to like each other very much (I know it isn't technically canon but the new SMC tier list video actually alludes to their relationship a little bit), but are willing to work together to further their own goals. Once the main heroes learn that DE always intended to steal the beasts' power for herself, and they somehow find a way to communicate that to SMC (god knows where the trio of deceit have wandered off to) I think SMC could be convinced into joining them. But I'm sure he's gonna insist that he be in charge, and I cannot wait to see everybody's heads clash

[lunarruled]

No she wasn't going to believe that Rick was okay until she had checked almost every single inch of him. Now of course she wouldn't go anywhere near certain spots due to her own shyness and not wanting him to hate her for it, but everywhere else was fair game. She wanted to blame it all on her lycan side's protective nature but she knew in her heart it was all of her that needed to know. From that first group she had lost to those that the family had lost since joining them she could not suffer through it again, especially not with him. Their friendship meant everything to her and now whatever this… thing… was that was growing between them must have been clouding her head. Had her feeling like she would be a total and complete failure should something happen to him. The half lycan was so concerned with her check that she didn't realize he had stopped her until she looked up to actually see that he had grabbed her hands and had spoken words. The intesity in his stare was going to be blamed on that walker attacking him though the tension that rose in its place was beyond blame. She couldn't help but wonder if Rick felt it too or was she just so worried about him being hurt that she was imagining this connection. And though she wanted to whine at the loss of his touch when he realized what he was doing she held the sound back and simply nodded. Pulling herself together she looked around to make sure the dead were truly dead this time around, not hiding the huff of annoyance when Rick asked her about that back room. If it was up to her she would leave those things in there. They would eventually just drop due to lack of something to eat. Rick was different however. He would want to put them out of their misery and probably see if there might be anything of use back there.

Somehow in her demented mind she found herself moving just to keep his hand on her back, the warmth of his touch burning through both her jacket and shirt underneath. As they got closer she could tell there were maybe a handful of them, something they could easily handle if they went by Rick's method. "Alright, yeah there could be some supplies back there. Maybe no one's been in there because of the walkers. I'll get the door open, let them out one at a time." Kyleigh knew the former sheriff was smart enough not to fire off his gun but just for added safety she was going to keep her knife in her hand that wasn't opening the door. To her surprise the knob twisted easily when she tried it. Thank god those walkers hadn't learned how to open doors yet or else they would have really been in some shit. Taking a deep breath she quickly opened it, allowing only one walker out before she shut it closed. Carefully bracing herself against the wood she waited until Rick had taken care of it before repeating the process. Four more times they did this dance until the door opened and nothing met them but silence. Just to be sure Kyleigh banged loudly against it, nothing responding after a few moments let her know it was safe to proceed. Giving Rick a nod she stepped into the small back room, nose scrunching at the stench that met her. "Hey! I think there's some stuff in here we can use! Move your ass old man!" Now that she felt the both of them were safe Kyleigh felt like she could joke again, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk towards @paralyziingfears.

[  ....  ]       rick  knew  going  into  this  building  was  going  to  be  a  task  in  of  itself.  it  would've  been  a  miracle  if  they  hadn't  come  across  walkers  in  any  abdoned  supermarket,  shed,  house.  they  infested  every  place  they  needed  to  go  to.  it's  something  he's  gotten  used  to,  but  he  still  felt  very  fortunate  to  have  @lunarruled  by  his  side.  not  only  because  she  had  powers  that  still  bewildered  him,  but  because  she  was  a  good  fighter,  and  he  could  count  on  her  to  watch  his  back  when  he  wasn't.  despite  all  of  this,  he  still  found  himself  worrying  about  her  when  he  took  out  the  walker  that  snuck  up  on  him.  did  she  hear  his  call  of  warning?  he  looked  over  in  a  panic  when  he  heard  the  shuffles  of  limping  walkers  in  another  aisle,  and  then  a  slight  struggle  of  combat.  he  waited  a  moment,  ❝  kyleigh  !!  ❞  he  whispered  as  loud  as  he  could  without  breaking  any  sound  barriers.  he  felt  his  heart  skip  a  beat  when  he  didn't  receive  a  call  back  but,  just  then,  kyleigh  appears  in  his  line  of  sight  unscathed.  he  sighs  a  deep  breath  of  relief,  feeling  his  heart  return  to  its  normal  pattern.  he  nodded  at  her  words,  ❝  you  know  how  many  ?  ❞  he  asked,  knowing  they'd  need  to  at  least  try  getting  inside.  a  whole  other  room  could  mean  a  lot  of  supplies  they'd  miss  out  on.  ❝  yeah,  m'  alright   —   ❞  he  replied,  but  it  didn't  matter  to  kyleigh.  she  brought  it  upon  herself  to  make  double  sure  that  he  was  by  running  her  hands  over  his  shoulders  and  chest.  he  found  himself  freezing  in  place,  unsure  how  to  react  or  even  what  to  say.  he  grabbed  both  her  hands,  ❝  swear,  m'  good  ❞  he  reassures  again  in  a  soft  tone,  subconsciously  still  holding  her  hands  and  looking  into  her  eyes  to  solidify  that  he  meant  it.  after  a  long  moment,  he  lets  go  of  her  hands  slowly  and  swallowed  thickly  to  push  down  the  nerves  that  suddenly  built  up  from  being  this  close  with  her.

he  felt  the  need  to  divert  the  situation  at  hand.  he  scratches  the  back  of  his  neck,  peering  over  her  shoulder  at  the  forbidden  backroom,  ❝  we  gotta  get  in  there.  i  know  't's  risky,  but  there  could  be  thangs  we  need.  medicine,  water,  food  ...  ❞  he  listed  off.  he  placed  his  hand  on  her  back  and  guides  her  towards  the  door.  he  gets  closer,  only  to  listen  and  try  to  decipher  just  how  many  of  the  undead  were  occupying  the  room  they  needed  to  get  into.  ❝  we  need  t'  do  this  carefully.  we  could  open  the  door  and  let  them  out  one  by  one.  't's  the  safest  way  t'  do  this  ❞  he  suggested.  ❝  whaddaya  think,  kyleigh  ?  ❞

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Someone insisting we don't learn language intuitively unless homeschooled...Did...did your parents put in you in school at 18 months of age? Did a teacher go around a room of toddlers with a dictionary saying, "This is what 'mama' means"? Because if the answer to that is no--and it is definitely no--you learned language intuitively, like everyone else. The finer points you learn in school, and later on your own, but even as you're doing that, you're still picking up words and phrases just by talking to people and reading.

[atalienart]

✧*:･ﾟArt summary 2024

2014-2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020 | 2021

[diy-brain-surgery]

safiya nygaard is my favorite member of the bourgeoisie. she really just has the money to do whatever she feels like, whenever she feels like it. and trust, whenever she posts a new video, i will be seated. (currently watching her run a "custom croissant bakery" for a day)