#but also. i have terminal embarrassment so

[icksick]

hi have catboy

ok bye i love you mwa

[elfdyke]

"you're fucking crazy"

"its a disorder ^_^"

[sweetangelanon]

When something bad happens to my friends: I think he needs to die,,, I think he needs to be executed by the state, I am ripping out his guts and tying them around his throat.

[astonmartinii]

(piano) keys to your heart | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem fan reader

who knew the fan stages could be so romantic?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1

liked by liamlawson30, yukitsunoda0511 and 1,340,667 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, lewishamilton, oscarpiastri & landonorris

f1: it's always chaos at the fan stages

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user1: what is in the air today?

user2: i think it's so early in the season that they haven't lost the will to live yet

user3: there's still light in their eyes LMAO

lewishamilton: let me just say... that was an experience

georgerussell63: i wish all media commitments were this entertaining

lewishamilton: we can only pray

user4: wait i'm so lost what happened at this damn fan stage

user5: there was a girl with a baby toy piano who played one of charles' songs for him 😭

user6: and he was SO IMPRESSED

user7: he was impressed? I WAS IMPRESSED like it sounded so good and it has five keys that make ANIMAL NOISES

user8: aniMAL NOISES???

pierregasly: i think i watched that man fall in love in real time

charles_leclerc: are you not also enchanted?

pierregasly: by animal sounds? no?

charles_leclerc: so rude! you wouldn't know real art even if it hit you in the face

pierregasly: nuh uh !!!

user9: girlies i do think he might be in love what is going on?

user10: has he even spoken to her other than through hundreds of people on a microphone?

charles_leclerc: can a hopeless romantic live ?

user11: yeah it's terminal people

user12: well i'm not gonna lie if someone learnt my music on such an esteemed instrument i'd also be flattered

charles_leclerc: EXACTLYYYYYY

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 12,309 others

yourusername: got to play a pretty boy piano this weekend, what about you?

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user15: PIANO WOMAN MY QUEEN

user16: you have a real piano?

yourusername: where do you think i honed my skills in order to play it on such a crazy model

yourbff: MAMA THERE'S 12,000 PEOPLE ON YOUR POST 💜

yourusername: act natural

yourbff: how can i ACT NATURAL BABE THE HOTTEST MAN IN THE WORLD IS IN YOUR LIKES

yourusername: as he should be

yourbff: i know for a fact you are not that chill rn ... i can hear you screaming from my house

yourusername: *harmonising

user17: we're all stalkers for being here but i'm pleasantly surprised with how funny she is

yourusername: damn ask me out on a date first

user18: so you are single queen?

yourusername: chronically so ...

charles_leclerc: i FOUND YOU

pierregasly: * i found you

oscarpiastri: not that i want the title of chief stalker but it was me (you have very niche mutual friends with my sisters)

yourusername: OMG OSCAR !!!!!!!!!!!! (tell hattie i said hi and take me to the next kpop concert)

charles_leclerc: so fuck me i guess

yourusername: i would love to fuck you, yes

charles_leclerc: oh hehehehehehehehehe

yourbff: for a man who is the sexiest in every room he's in, you're embarrassingly easy to please

lewishamilton: he's not the sexiest in every room, that is lewis hamilton erasure

yourbff: WHAT THE FUCK

user19: so is like all of the current f1 grid here?

maxverstappen1: i'm just here to watch charles embarrass himself

danielricciardo: i am retired but i must be interested in the exploits of my countrymen

pierregasly

liked by yukitsunoda0511, charles_leclerc and 885,489 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & kika.c.gomez

pierregasly: he's making us take a flight on our one week off

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user20: deadass if they're going to australia

user21: these are levels that i would actually completely expect from charles

user22: pierre and kika are better than me because a flight to AUSTRALIA oh no baby

maxverstappen1: well this is an update that SOMEONE (i'm talking about you pierre) forgot to put in the group chat

pierregasly: i'm kind of in the middle of a flight and sat to the nosiest motherfucker in the world

charles_leclerc: what group chat?

georgerussell63: nothing!

oscarpiastri: nothing!

landonorris: nothing!

alexalbon: nothing!

maxverstappen1: we're laughing about how down bad you are behind your back 👍

charles_leclerc: thanks max!

charles_leclerc: WAIT?

user23: oh charles how can you be so smart yet so dumb

user24: all brain power goes to f1 and piano

user25: and piano girl now apparently

yourbff: you're not being serious ....

pierregasly: deadly

yourusername: this is so charming

yourbff: this man is flying 24 HOURS TO SEE HER ???

yourusername: i'm not appreciating your tone rn

yourbff: oh no you're more than worth it pookie but DAMN the air miles

charles_leclerc: i chartered a private jet :D

yourbff: you're crazy

yourusername: i'm in love with you?

user26: guys i think they're just as insane as each other

user27: a match made in heaven i fear

liked by charles_leclerc & yourusername

yourusername

liked by yourbff, charles_leclerc and 41,298 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, pierregasly & kika.c.gomez

yourusername: guys there's a cute guy at my door (and a guy with a bad hairline but he doesn't matter (i love you kika))

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user29: chat - it's never been so over i fear

user30: we've lost him

yourusername: :P

user31: she's so unserious i love her

user32: i know every other wag wants to be this in our face so i respect it

charles_leclerc: i'm very happy to be the cute guy at your door

yourusername: you best be :)

charles_leclerc: i'm here to swipe you off your feet

yourusername: believe me you won't have to do much

charles_leclerc: i saw you have a proper piano ...

yourusername: you don't want to serenade me with my animal noise piano ???

user33: so like this is real? how did this actually happen?

user34: like surely they had met before this - it can't be the animal sounds piano of monaco that did it

user35: have you ever considered that maybe someone doing something as ridiculous but as time consuming as that is incredibly endearing

charles_leclerc: my love language is acts of service :)

pierregasly: i am sat in your living room and you're blasting my hairline on instagram?

yourusername: yes!

pierregasly: you know what? you two are perfect for each other

yourusername: i know :D

user36: oh to be a girl who has charles flying across the world for her

user37: if we get a video of them playing piano it might just kill me

maxverstappen1: interesting.... very interesting....

yourusername: can i help you?

maxverstappen1: just observing ....

yourusername: you're observing very loudly

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 1,894,300 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: obviously we had to take the real piano for a drive

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user38: killing myself <3

user39: the most rational reaction

user40: THEY'RE SO FUCKING CUTE (i want to die)

yourusername: as if you needed to be any more handsome

charles_leclerc: i gotta match your beauty some how

yourusername: SHUT THE FUCK UP

yourusername: YOU'RE SO CUTE

yourusername: and also objectively the most beautiful man in the world

lewishamilton: once again, stop lying to him please 🙏

yourusername: okay queen..... whatever you wanna hear

user41: lewis not being in the GC but always being here to stunt on charles is killing me

user42: getting in the psychological warfare for next year

yourusername: lewis hamilton psychological warfare (immovable object) vs sleep deprived y/n y/ln (unstoppable force)

lewishamilton: YOU'VE KNOWN HIM MAX A WEEK ???

yourusername: there's no set timeline for love girlypop

maxverstappen1: piano? this is boring

yourusername: i would post me treating him the way he should but that would violate instagram's guidelines sorry!

charles_leclerc: no !!! i don't wanna share you with anyone

maxverstappen1: i don't wanna see all that anyway

charles_leclerc: don't lie buddy

yourusername: you're just intimidated :P

user43: couples who bully max together, stay together

maxverstappen1: it seems that way ...

yourusername: omg we're so couple goals

charles_leclerc: we so are <3333

user44: CONFIRMATION???

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff and 68,309 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: guess i'm a recording artist now? oh and i have a bf, he's there i guess?

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user46: oh they want me dead

user47: ignoring this for my mental health

user48: they're 😭 so 😭 cute 😭 i'm 😭 so 😭 happy 😭 for 😭 you

charles_leclerc: no one i'd rather work with!! we've been in a whirlwinf but i'm glad i have you

yourusername: you have had the (piano) keys to my heart long before we met

charles_leclerc: i still had to charm you though ;)

yourusername: oh i was smitten straight away i was just trying to play it cool

pierregasly: you weren't very convincing

yourusername: i was ???

yourbff: the day you found out he was flying over to aus you did 20,000 steps just pacing in the living room

yourusername: well...

charles_leclerc: i found it very cute no worries

user49: they're so hilariously embarrassing for each other it's so cute

user50: i mean they're both insanely attractive so yeah i'd be just as nervous around them

user51: everyone is just hating on their whimsical love

arthurleclerc: so you're official and you've still not met us 🤨🤨🤨

yourusername: well............. i'm in aus what do you want me to do about that?

arthurleclerc: charles irresponsibly uses a private jet - i expect to see you for dinner this weekend ! (that's an order from maman)

yourusername: CHARLES I CAN'T LET YOUR MUM DOWN

maxverstappen1: does this mean i might get air max back in europe?

yourusername: you've been hating this whole time but it was YOUR JET THAT GOT CHARLES HERE?

maxverstappen1: and what?

yourusername: i'm just observing, loudly

charles_leclerc: he loves me really <3

yourusername: but not too much 🤨

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff and 2,398,099 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: i am never complaining about media again

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user52: so when i do an interpretative dance as a cat to seduce max then what?

maxverstappen1: if you dare do that anywhere near me i am getting a restraining order

user52: anyone tell you you're no fun?

maxverstappen1: all the time, i'm still not going to fuck someone dressed as a cat 👍

yourusername: loving you is the easiest thing in the world

charles_leclerc: the most natural thing in my life - we were made for each other

yourusername: forged by the gods for each other and they decided to give me the prettiest boy in the world

yourusername: @lewishamilton i dare you to say otherwise

charles_leclerc: she's so protective 🤭🤭🤭

roscoelovescoco: ...

yourusername: i'll still fight your dog i have no shame when it comes to defending my man

user53: see this ^^ is appropriate action for wags i too would fight a bull dog to defend charles' honour

yourusername: it's the least i can do

charles_leclerc: i will literally run someone over with my ferrari

yourusername: considering i've seen your road parking - that's a real threat, so romantic

pierregasly: so i really am stuck with this for the rest of my life?

yourusername: it doesn't have to be a long life

pierregasly: you're breaking up with charles ???

yourusername: i'm threatening your life 👍

pierregasly: oh!

charles_leclerc: so romantic

user54: childhood friends being thrown under the bus? this is real romance

user55: and this all started with an animal sounds piano?

yourusername: i owe my baby cousin everything

charles_leclerc: does she want a ferrari?

fin.

note: HAPPY CHARLES LECLERC BIRTHDAY DAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE

[astraystayyh]

The snow falls, we fall apart.

summary: when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

genre: producer student!hyunjin x reader. roommates!au. friends to lovers. acute descriptions of heartbreak and general sadness. slow burn. hurt/comfort. healing and hopeless romantic hyune. very inspired by long for you so lots of pining and yearning. (wc: 13k)

warnings: mentions of alcohol. it is implied that reader was in an a very toxic relationship but no details are shared.

a.n: happy birthday to my hyunjin, my muse, my light. thank you for being so full of love that it made me love love again in return. this is i think my most personal piece, and i hope it reminds those who need it that love should be soft and kind, that it shouldn’t hurt, that it should heal not break. i love you guys and i love you my xi, writing this collab with you has been a true honor <3 also!! please listen to long for you while reading :,)

winter falls masterlist.

You’ve only ever felt utter despair twice in your life.

First, when you were seven years old, playing hide and seek with your cousins at your grandma’s house. It was a warm summer afternoon, the air sweetened by pastries you devoured hours ago. You decided to hide in a wooden cabinet up in the attic, only to end up stuck there. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, the oxygen seeping away from the cracks underneath the door, leaving you deprived of air, of life.

Second, at twelve, when you've come to discover sorrow's new facet, clad in grief's heavy cloak. Your parents adopted a hamster for your birthday, but they did not know he had a terminal disease. You were distraught, to say the least, when you awoke to its still form, death claiming a frail heart unaware of its imminent fate.

And now, third, many many moons later, you are knocking on Hyunjin’s door a few minutes after midnight. It is cold out, tears tracing rivulets on your cheeks, your fingers tinted pink from roaming outside in the harsh winds, your heart much heavier than when you were a child. More grief-stricken, at your own hands, this time.

A disheveled Hyunjin opens the door, his blonde ash hair tousled and sticking upwards, a clear indication of the many times he had run his hands through it in fits of frustration. His gray hoodie zipped up hastily, revealing the silver cross necklace he was wearing, nestling perfectly against his honeyed skin.

You've always had an aversion to seeking comfort, saw it as revealing your deepest vulnerabilities to a world that isn't always kind. It was easier, much simpler to do so when you were a clueless child— when you sank in your cousin Lia's hold as she attempted to steady your breathing, when your mother cradled you in her lap after Pinky died.

It is much harder now, much more embarrassing because Hyunjin has never seen you this sad, never glimpsed your shadows that now swarm his doorstep, unannounced.

“What's wrong?” he quickly asks, eyes darting over your figure in a rapid search for visible wounds. He wouldn’t find any. All your injuries stem from within— blood doesn’t have to be spilled for your heart to weep.

You had rehearsed a lie as you walked up to his doorstep. You would say that your car broke down near his place and ask if you could stay over for the night. He would insist he could drive you to your place and you’d refuse, saying that it was too late and you did not wish to bother him. You’d sleep on the couch and slip away in the early hours of the morning.

Yet, it is the genuine worry etched in his eyes that dismantles the fortress you've hidden in, melts the lie in your throat, morphing it into a steel lump coiling in your throat. He looks concerned when all you’ve had directed towards you recently was anger. And you missed someone looking at you in care, not reproach.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You admit, your voice shattered, fragments of your vocal cords scattered out in the wind like a broken mosaic, the sound of it scraping against your ears.

Blow one hurt. It felt like your body turned against you as it deprived you of oxygen. The sobs that escaped you once you perceived the light pained you, perhaps more than being confined in the darkness.

Blow two was even worse, it was your first time experiencing grief. It was too hard of a concept for your innocent heart to grasp, too complicated for you to find solace in anything as adults do.

You promised yourself that you’d reserve blow three for monumental agonies— big pains and big sorrows only. That’s how you managed to keep all your tears at bay for most of your life. Would they be worth losing your third sob for? No, you've always found the answer to be.

And in all the twisted scenarios you’ve conjured up in your mind, deaths and illnesses and the haunting tale of failure, you did not imagine that it would happen on Hwang Hyunjin’s doorstep. That you’d burst into sobs at the compassionate look in his gaze, and the sad smile he sent your way. As if he knew, as everyone did around you. That you had handed a knife to a serial killer and it was only a matter of time before he stabbed you in the heart.

Two weeks ago.

“I’m trying to understand you but you aren’t helping me,” Seungmin is frustrated as he paces relentlessly before you from left to right like a swinging pendulum. You sit on the couch, beholding only his shoes, avoiding his gaze that would reflect the truth you dare not confront.

“He’s sucking the life out of you, can’t you see that?”

You can, out of everyone that surrounds you, you can see it the most. You feel as if you are carrying a skin that isn’t your own, weighed down by a relationship that has taken everything from you. But admitting it is admitting that you were wrong, in trusting him, in loving him. You couldn’t bear it.

“We are fine!” you shout back, the defiance in your voice surprises even you. This is a familiar script with Seungmin, a recurring conversation spurred by your puffy eyes and diminishing appetite. He tells you, begs you to leave, but where could you go? How could you leave a home where you've shed all your treasured belongings at the door— your skin, your bones, your very self.

What place would welcome you now that you're stripped bare of your soul?

“When was the last time he made you smile, huh? All he does is hurt you, and you...” he chuckles incredulously, running his hand through his hair. “You are letting him.”

Deny, deny, deny.

“This isn’t true. He loves me,” the words taste foreign in your mouth like rusty metal dragging across your lips. A small voice whispers that love shouldn't feel like this, but you quiet it down.

“Are you hearing yourself? Yn, I…” he kneels before you, his hands resting comfortingly on your knees. This is Seungmin, your best friend of five years. You know he has your best interests at heart, you are even more sure of it when his voice softens, shakes slightly when he utters your name. “Yn, please. I’m trying to help you. Please.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you push away his hands, standing up. “I don’t want your help, and I don’t need it.”

You quickly leave Seungmin’s dorm, your heart heavier than when you entered it, foolishly hoping that he'd ignore your distressed state after yet another fight with your boyfriend. But Seungmin doesn't understand, no one around you does— you’ve gambled your heart, and you cannot stop drawing the cards, even in the face of losing strikes.

❁ ❁ ❁

Hyunjin offers you a cup of tea with a gentle smile and you grab the steaming drink from his hands. The smell of chamomile wraps around your senses, and your brain fizzles out for a second before the soothing aroma. But it is a fleeting respite, the tempest of your thoughts crashes back onto you with an unsettling force, causing you to almost drop the drink as your hands shake. You place it down the table without taking a sip.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced,” you apologize, wincing at the intrusion, “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I always sleep late. Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, but you know it isn’t a genuine grin, because his eyes betray an unsubdued concern, refusing to morph into their usual moon crescents.

You’ve always thought that Hyunjin wears his emotions openly— when he laughed, he did so loudly, his boisterous giggles traveling around Seungmin’s dorm. When he hurt himself, everyone in the vicinity would know so from his loud yelps. And when something worried him, he would bite his lip, toying with the plush flesh to ease his nerves.

As he is doing now. Looking at you.

“We broke up,” you quickly say, and your words hang over you like a gloomy cloud. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you want me to fight him? I’ll bring changbin too,” he suggests a serious tone underlying his playful offer, and it manages to tear a reluctant giggle out of you.

“Changbin doesn’t know me well enough to fight for me,” you counteract and he shakes his head. “He’ll fight for me, I'm his princess.”

“Are you now?” The giggle escapes your mouth less forcefully, and the smile that graces Hyunjin’s face is a genuine one.

“I am. My proposal stands,” he extends his hand and you wrap your fingers around his palm. “Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind,” you smile but he frowns, flipping your hand around in his hold.

“You are freezing,” he whispers, using his other palm to rub warmth into yours.

“It’s fine,” you lie, slipping your hand out of his grasp, not feeling deserving of his kindness.

Wordlessly, Hyunjin stands, walking into what you assume is his bedroom. You only know of his place because you dropped off Seungmin here some time ago. You are too exhausted to even drink in the interior.

“Here,” he returns, handing you a navy hoodie of his and black joggers. “This will keep you warm at night.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, hesitating for a few seconds before speaking again. “Can you please not tell Seungmin, I... I can't face him right now.”

“Of course. I’ll be awake still if you do need something.”

Hyunjin’s clothing is warm, although peeling away your own garments felt like shedding layers of your skin, as if the fabric melted into your very flesh, just like memories from the day did. You have never felt this worthless before, discarded like a forgotten leaf on the roadside, one he stepped on for his own enjoyment, leaving you crushed in his wake, unable to fly away again.

Hyunjin’s rose perfume wraps around you, and you find relief in sleeping somewhere where your, his, scent was no longer around. You foolishly hope that if you close your eyes hard enough, you’ll manage to convince yourself that you’re someone else, tonight. Someone who isn’t tethered to the heartache, someone who can slip away from the clutches of a love that hurts more than hate could ever manage to do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Heartbreak isn’t beautiful, no matter how eloquently you try to dress it in the syllables of poetry, no words can soften the burn in your lungs, the searing ache that courses through your very core, reminding you that deep within, down to the fundamentals of your being and the most basic alchemy that ties your atoms together— you are unlovable. Whether you cut your hair or allow it to grow, change your heart, or leave it as it has always been, you will remain so.

You don’t remember much of the past week, blurry fragments here and there that float in your mind like a distorted water reflection. There is little room for memories when you are busy trying to remember how to breathe— one inhale in, one exhale out. The simple concept seems harder when there are unkind hands permanently lodged into your heart, squeezing it tight.

What you do remember is telling Seungmin through text the next day, because you couldn’t bear the way his eyes would soften if you spoke to him in person. No signs of surprise cast on his figure, because he knew that it was long coming, a train with one final inevitable destination— you in shambles, him okay.

You remember Seungmin cradling you in his arms when he came to see you, and you trying desperately to keep the tears at bay— too focused on pinching your arm to let Seungmin’s warmth radiate through your being, Hyunjin lingering uncomfortably by the entrance of his living room.

You remember begging Seungmin to grab your belongings from the apartment you shared with your ex because you were unable to face him, him, and everything that your old place spelled out for you. Stand in the ruins of what you once thought would be your permanent home.

And now, you watch as Seungmin and Hyunjin bring suitcases full of your stuff into the latter’s place. And you feel like an outsider in your own body, standing at the corner of the room gazing at utter destruction, unable to stop it, unable to mend it. Seungmin quickly reassures you that you could crash in his and Minho’s place until you find a new one to live in, already taking out his laptop to search for new apartments for you.

But you did not care for it, your eyes zeroed in on the satin shirt peeking out of your suitcase. The one he bought you on your first month anniversary. Back when love felt like a gentle feather running down your spine, and not a dull knife slicing away at your skin.

“This place's expensive too,” Seungmin sighs, rubbing his temple warily. Your logical best friend could not fix your heartbreak but he took it to heart to alleviate your other troubles. You would thank him for it, later, when your tongue finds enough will to move.

“What if you move in with me?” Hyunjin suddenly says and his words filtrate through the fog in your mind easily, as if he rehearsed them enough times so they’d roll out smoothly out of his mouth. “I mean, Felix is away for the next year since he went back to Australia. And I was looking for a new roommate anyway.” He shrugs and Seungmin turns to look at you, his eyes convey the question his mouth doesn’t articulate— is it okay with you?

“I don’t…” your voice is croaked, so you clear your throat. “I don’t want you to do things out of pity.”

“I’m not. If I was, I would've told you to move in with me for free. I still need you to pay rent,” he raises his eyebrows, a playful tease and you smile in relief, nodding, “Okay, I will. thank you.”

Heartbreak is ugly and all-encompassing, weaving through the roots of your heart and infecting each organ with its insidious touch. It renders you immobile, incapable of performing the simplest tasks, burdened by a weight unseen by the world. But you try your best, your very best to contain it.

You smile at the cashier as she hands back your money only to wonder if her soft, well-manicured hands would too crush a soul without remorse. You go to all your classes without fail but your mind is elsewhere, contemplating why the sun filtering through the windows no longer warms your skin. Can nerve endings perish when subjected to too much pain? What's left of life when you can no longer feel the caress of the sun?

You watch a movie at Seungmin's dorm but your mind is elsewhere, fleeting to this morning and how you refused to stay in the shower for more than three minutes because your thoughts might become haunting ghosts tempting you to follow them. You brush your hair and spray your perfume, only because you have to, because you live with Hyunjin and you wouldn’t want your sadness to taint him too. You wonder how long you’ll have to bear it. You wonder if it’ll ever leave you or if the veins in your heart have molded themselves after the pain and they wouldn’t know how to accept happiness anymore.

You greet Hyunjin as he walks past you, shaking your head when he asks you if you want to eat dinner with him, quickly retracting back into your room. You have ten unread messages and a pile of growing laundry you need to do, but all you can muster is to gaze at the empty walls, mirroring the void within you. Your mom told you to call her again and you don’t know how you’ll speak to her without bursting into a sob, how you’ll tell her that all it took was one person to break you. Or maybe it was two people, your hands and his tearing apart your flesh and bones. Maybe that’s the worst part about it. So you don’t call her.

And you only ever emerge from your room when you need to, just like now because your water bottle is finished and you need to refill it. You go to open the kitchen door when you hear Hyunjin’s muted shatter, Felix’s distinctive deep voice coming out of the phone speaker.

“Next you add the melted butter and stir it,” Felix instructs, the sounds of pots and utensils clinking in the background. You fidget slightly, mustering the strength to paint a fake smile on your lips.

“What next?”

“Sift the dry ingredients then add them to your wet mixture,” Felix explains, met with a few seconds of silence. You can almost visualize Hyunjin's perplexed expression, blinking rapidly in confusion.

“Explain it to me like I’m five years old,” he requests, prompting a small smile to etch itself onto your face.

“How are you surviving without me?”

“I’m not please come home,” Hyunjin sounds horrified as Felix’s rich chuckles fill the air. “Why do you suddenly want to make brownies anyway?” he then asks.

You go to open the door when Hyunjin’s response catches you off guard.

“They’re for Yn.”

Hyunjin's words resonate in the air, causing a hitch in your throat and Felix’s teasing whistles simultaneously, but Hyunjin is quick to stop him. “No, no, no, it’s not like that. They’re just a bit down and I remember them loving your brownies. So…”

It takes you a fleeting moment to dig the memory out of your mind, a year ago, right before your ex came to pick you up from Seungmin’s dorm. You had a bite of Felix’s brownies, a surprised gasp escaping your lips at its delicious taste, back when food had taste and happiness came easily to you. It was an insignificant memory, you did not imagine Hyunjin, out of everyone, would remember it.

But he did, and he’s now pacing before your closed door, contemplating how he’ll convince you to finally eat something with him. He throws a thumbs-up in the air for no one but himself, inhaling deeply before knocking on your door.

“Hey,” he greets with a hopeful smile, his gaze meeting your tired form. He hesitates for a second, clearing his throat. “Brownies?” You remain unmoving and he falters, “Hm? Please?”

“Sure,” you nod and a wave of relief floods through Hyunjin as you step out of your room. His joy is short-lived when he takes the brownies out of the oven, only to find them thoroughly burnt.

His mouth hangs agape, and he walks back shamefully to the oven, lowering its door only to scream inside of it.

“This will be more therapeutic,” you say, pointing nonchalantly to the fridge and he agrees, opening its doors and yelling once again in the much larger space.

Your melodic laughter fills the kitchen, Hyunjin’s embarrassment is suddenly a forgotten memory.

“I’m craving kimbap. Should we get it instead?” you propose, a touch shyly and he quickly agrees, afraid you’d change your mind and walk back to your room where he can no longer ensure you are okay.

Hyunjin absentmindedly dances along to the music blasting through the convenience store when a girl sidles up to his side, a saccharine grin on her lips as she looks up at him, “hi,” she greets and his tentative smile mirrors hers. “Hey.”

“Are you single?” she asks, her gaze briefly fleeting to the window. “I think you are really cute.”

“I’m…” he glances at you but you're suddenly engrossed in the ingredients of the tuna kimbap you are holding, pretending not to listen. “I am but I’m not interested, thank you.”

“Oh, come on,” she places a hand on his arm and he physically recoils. “Give me your insta and we could talk.”

“No,” he repeats, grabbing her hand to remove it when a loud voice startles him. “Baby, what’s taking you so— What are you doing?” Hyunjin watches in horror as the girl’s eyes grow wide, before she scrambles to the man’s side, feigning fear.

“He kept hitting on me when I said I had a boyfriend, baby.”

“What?” both you and Hyunjin gasped in comical unison. He would find it amusing if not for the escalating anger radiating from the man, who looks like he spends all his days in the gym. Hyunjin suddenly regrets not working out with Changbin.

The man strides towards Hyunjin. “Do you want to die?”

“No? there’s a misunderstanding,” he replies, swiftly standing before you and shielding you with his arm. “Your… baby,” he wiggles his finger in front of the man's face, “she was the one hitting on me!”

The man scoffs loudly, his face growing redder from the anger seething in him. “So you hit on my girlfriend and then accuse her of cheating?” His fist rises threateningly, prompting Hyunjin to step back, accidentally bumping into your chest.

“Wait, wait, wait! Let’s go talk outside, man to man,” Hyunjin pauses, his voice taking on a taunting edge, “unless you're too scared?” he smirks as he feels you pull at his shirt, whispering an incredulous- “What are you doing?” He shakes his head, grabbing your hand and leading you outside, throwing a sly wink at the man behind you now.

“Are you seriously going to fight him?” you ask, your gaze shifting towards the deranged couple who are about to step out of the grocery store. “No, of course not. I'm a lover, not a fighter.”

“You said you'd fight my ex,” you point out and his eyes soften surprisingly.

“You are an exception.” He looks back at the man, who's now walking towards you both. “But anyways, do you know how to run?” he asks and you frown, “who doesn’t know how to—” you pause as realization dawns on you. “No," you whisper furiously.

“Yes.”

“No,” you shake your head, horrified and he nods, eyes apologetic.

“Yes.” His fingers entwine with yours, he squeezes your hand once before he takes off running.

“Hwang fucking Hyunjin!” you shout and he looks back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m sorry Yn my face is too pretty to be beaten up.”

“He’s following us!” you yell, looking back horrified as the, even angrier, man runs after you.

“Well, run faster!”

“I’m wearing fucking slippers!” you curse and he giggles, tipping his head back, the wind slamming into you both, his hand never letting go of your own.

“Oh my god why is he still running!” you groan and Hyunjin picks up speed, moving you even closer to his sprinting figure

“I know, is it ever that serious?” he yells above his shoulder and you dig your nails into his palm.

“Shut up, this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so gorgeous.”

“So, you think I’m pretty too?” Hyunjin grins proudly and an incredulous laugh escapes your lips.

“Really? Is this what you’re getting out of this situation?”

“Silver linings, Yn, silver linings,” he shouts as you round a small alley, finally stopping to catch your breath. You both fall to the ground, heavy breaths escaping your chests.

“Holy shit, I’m not athletic at all,” he heaves, his eyes meeting yours. He expects to find anger lingering in your gaze but all he can grasp is your amused smile before you collapse into a fit of laughter, clapping loudly and clutching your stomach with your hand.

“Oh my god, I’m crying,” you laugh harder, wiping away at the tears falling from your eyes. Hyunjin’s weariness disappears in the blink of an eye— he did not realize how much he missed your smile until he glimpsed it again. And it is beautiful. Happiness looks beautiful on you.

“Idiot,” you hit his shoulder playfully, and his response is delayed for a few seconds, the warmth from your smile rendering him immobile.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, pulling you up. “Here, I’ll carry you home,” he squats slightly before you. “How impolite of me. How dare I make your majesty run.”

You shake your head, amused, before climbing atop his back, his warm palms holding your thighs securely. “Only because the slippers hurt my feet.”

You walk in silence for a while, your arms wound up around Hyunjin’s neck, the ghost of a smile still lingering on both your faces.

“They said it will snow tomorrow,” Hyunjin speaks suddenly and you stay silent for so long he starts to wonder if you even heard him.

“Mm? That’s nice,” your tone is melancholic, and he pauses at the peculiar sadness in it— as though you were trying to act nonchalant about something that has once meant the world to you.

“Don’t you like the snow?” he asks and your hold on his neck falters.

“I loved it. Loved ice skating and building snowmen.” Your voice is light and airy, like Hyunjin’s favorite mint chocolate ice cream. “But now it reminds me of bad times, bad memories.”

“I understand.”

Hyunjin knows what it feels like to relinquish parts of yourself you never wished to part from. For someone to grab your happiest places and to cast a gloomy filter atop them. Sometimes it is the loss of a season that hurts more than the departure of a person.

And Hyunjin loves winter.

He’ll do everything so that you’ll come to love it again too.

❁ ❁ ❁

Is it a nightmare if the person in it is one you once loved, looked forward to beholding with your gaze, hoping they’d never slip out of your reach? You don’t know, but you are growing tired of having the same dreams every night. Of waking up with an exhaustion that goes beyond your restless sleep but pleads from your soul to rest after almost a year of torment.

You sigh wearily, rubbing a hand through your face before walking to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. You find Hyunjin there, eating a cupcake while standing shirtless, scrolling through his phone. You blink at the sight.

“Hey,” you clear your throat and he startles, dropping the cupcake on the ground. He goes to pick it up only to bang his head on the table, a loud yelp escaping his lips. You barely contain your giggles as you walk to his side, rubbing your palm soothingly on his head. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.”

“At least pretend you are sorry,” he mumbles, pointing to your amused smile and you chuckle, taking his hand and helping him to his feet.

“What are you doing up now?” he asks as he grabs some napkins to clean up the pink frosting smeared across the floor.

You hesitate for a few seconds before whispering, “Just nightmares. And you?” you quickly add, not keen on pushing the subject any further.

“I'm working on a song,” he explains, as his gaze lingers on your sunken eyes, weighed down by dark circles from too many sleepless nights.

“And the cupcake?”

“Some people need caffeine to function. I need flour.”

“I literally see you drink three americanos per day.”

“Okay well maybe I need both,” he admits sheepishly and you grin, drumming your fingers along the countertop.

“Can I sit with you while you work?” you ask quickly, before the words linger enough in your mouth that you no longer wish to spit them out.

The smile that Hyunjin sends you is kind, pushing the shadows of your nightmares just slightly out of reach.

“Of course, yeah you can. Don’t even need to ask.”

Hyunjin walks first into his bedroom, quickly slipping on a hoodie while you take in the interior. It is a quite simple room— a large bed with gray covers, and a desk filled with what you assume to be his producing equipment sits adjacent. But what catches your attention is the dried rose hung delicately on the wall, and the array of paintings surrounding it. You edge closer to it, drawn to the well-crafted paintings— a sun-drenched beach, a couple lost in an embrace so intimate their forms can no longer be separated, and an elderly pair riding a motorcycle, their love radiating vibrantly as if enclosed in eternal youth.

“You paint?” you ask, turning around to find Hyunjin watching you. He steps closer, enveloping you once more in the fragrance of his rose perfume.

“In my free time.”

“You are amazing, Hyunjin,” you compliment sincerely, your gaze fixed on that imagery of the old couple, one that most likely grew together. It tugs at your heartstrings, stirs a painful longing within you, a memory of a time when you too believed you’d find such boundless love.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, before brushing his fingertips gently against your forearm, for a fleeting second. “Are you okay?” he asks, a tenderness you’ve been aching for latched into his question. Your eyes refuse to peel away from the paintings and the love spilling from each paint brush stroke, a love that refuses to rest on your being as if you were harboring an armor that repels it.

“No,” you reply sincerely, turning to face him. “It’s really hard,” you say with a smile, hoping that the mechanical display of happiness would keep your tears at bay, tricking your brain into believing you're not as sad as you feel.

It fails to do so, and the tears well in your eyes like a gathering storm. Frustration twists your features as you shut your eyes, tilting your head upward in a desperate attempt to contain the flood. It pauses as Hyunjin cradles the back of your head, drawing you close to the warmth of his neck. His palm glides soothingly along your spine, before patting your back ever so gently.

Your back stiffens, hands curling into tight fists, breath catching in your throat. You've grown accustomed to pushing away comfort, putting up tall barriers to shield yourself. But tonight, Hyunjin seems to break through your defenses.

Tonight, you soften, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, head nestling deeper against his tender skin.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers and another sob wracks through you, but he only holds you tighter. “It’ll get better soon.”

“I loved him,” you hiccup, your voice breaks, “a lot.”

“I know, that’s why it hurts.” His voice is gentle, and yet his hold on you feels secure as if you could stumble and fall, and he would be there to catch you

“I want it to stop hurting.”

“It will, with time.”

Your next words are tinged with a childlike vulnerability, reminiscent of blow one, then two. But you do not care for it, in that instant, you crave the reassurance, you need someone to plant a seed of hope in your soul because your hands are too frail to dig for it.

“Do you promise me?”

His response doesn’t come hastily, carelessly thrown into the air like idle chatters. He takes his time, considering it with the gravity of an oath.

“I promise you.” He finally says, each syllable infused with sincerity. A brief pause hangs in the air before he adds. “And if it doesn’t then you can hit me.”

“On your pretty face?” you ask, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“On my pretty face,” he confirms with a chuckle.

“What an honor,” you roll your eyes playfully as you lean back and he grins, tenderly wiping away your tears with the back of his fingers.

“I can't believe it took three minutes for you to cry in my room. This isn’t good for my reputation.”

“Good thing this will never leave this bedroom, right?” you point a finger at him threateningly, and he pretends to zip his lips, tossing away the imaginary key. “You got it.”

“So what are you working on?” you ask as you settle on the edge of his bed, knees drawn up to your chest.

“It’s a pretty sad song, wanna hear?” he offers, sitting across from you on his chair.

“Yeah, I'd love to,” you smile, and Hyunjin deftly adjusts a few buttons, before his melancholic whistles weave through the air, coupled with the somber melody of a piano. Your breath catches in your throat, the music reaching into the very depths of your soul. It's as if the notes are calling out for a loved one, for a time that has long passed, for a past that will never come back no matter how much we long for it.

The instrumental continues, each piano note and each violin string echo like a bittersweet lament, springing tears to your eyes. But the melody remains beautiful, akin to the beauty always found in the sadness— in the tears that cascade down your cheeks like glistening crystals, in the tremble of your hands akin to branches swaying in the wind, in the rise and fall of your chest with each breath, mirroring the ebb and flow of the waves.

Hyunjin watches you intently as the music envelops you both, his gaze softening with each passing moment. You bring a hand to your chest, almost unconsciously, too engrossed in the melody to even blink. He feels a blush sprout on his cheeks as your teary eyes hold his with the last fading guitar strings.

“You keep on making me cry,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion, and he grins, tilting his head shyly against his shoulder.

“You like it?” he asks, a tad eager and you nod, not bothering to wipe the lone tears that are falling down your cheeks.

“I think this is what my loneliness sounds like,” you confess softly.

“As do mine.”

A silent beat runs between you both, it isn’t uncomfortable, but safe. Because you understand him, just as he understands you.

“Sometimes I long for things that have passed," he admits, “although I know I can't get them anymore.”

“The most terrible thing you can long for is yourself.”

“Because no one’s to blame for that loss but you?” he muses and you nod, a sad smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, exactly.”

You bite your lip, casting a glance back at the paintings adorning the wall. “I don't love him anymore,” you begin quietly. “I stopped a long time ago because there was no room for love anymore to grow amid weeds and thorns.”

He remains silent, sensing that this is a weight you need to unburden yourself from.

“But in the midst of it I think I stopped loving myself too,” you whisper, a confession too terrible to be uttered out loud. “That's what I long for. The things I used to love that I'm indifferent to now.”

“Like you’re a stranger before everything once familiar to you.”

“Yeah, you express it prettily,” you remark with a small smile.

“It's my job,” he grins lightly.

“I think when your heart is pure,” he begins after a while, pausing to carefully choose the words that will soothe your burn, help sleep come more easily to you. “You give love to others more readily than you do to yourself. And it takes time, patience, to redirect that love back to your own heart once again. But it's not a mistake to love, you shouldn’t hate yourself for it. Nor should you blame your past self for loving the wrong person because they did not know what you now do.”

“Think of it as a caterpillar in their cocoon,” he continues gently, “when they finally emerge from their chrysalis, they might long for who they were, where they once were because it is the only place they've ever known. But they do not realize that they've transformed into a beautiful butterfly, that they can now fly, and witness much more than their chrysalis. So maybe, your new self will love the same things as before, or maybe you’ll find new, better things to love that you would have not known before. But in either way, your heart is beautiful. That is what matters, no?”

A small pout draws on your lips, your eyebrows scrunched as you gaze at him.

“You have a very tender soul, Hyunjin.”

Your words linger in Hyunjin's mind long after the sunrise, as you lay peacefully asleep on his bed. The melody of the instrumental he produced continues to play faintly in the background, serving as a gentle lullaby that eases you into slumber, entwined in his sheets, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself, one hand cradling your shoulders and the other resting gently on your stomach. The image sears into his eyes as he sketches the outlines of a figure holding itself absentmindedly, long into the night.

Hyunjin has had his fair share of compliments, mostly pertaining to his face, and others to his craft. but it is you who seems to have sensed that a part of his soul resided in his art, that he left pieces of his heart hidden in the notes he composes and the lyrics he writes, hoping they’ll find soft hands that will take care of them, just like your own.

Five days later.

hyunjin [11:34 p.m.]: are you home?

yn [11:34 p.m.]: yeahh, do you need anything?

hyunjin [11:35 p.m.]: come downstairs, im waiting for youu

if you say no i’ll freeze to death..

hurry i can’t feel my fingers anymore (please please) ㅠㅠㅠ

“This better be a life and death situation Hwang Hyunjin,” you say threateningly as soon as you appear before Hyunjin, causing him to straighten up from the wall he was leaning against.

“It is a very dangerous life-altering situation that requires your immediate assistance, indeed,” he responds solemnly, ushering you gently to his car and opening the door for you.

“Which is?” you ask as soon as he settles inside the car and he simply grins at you, his left dimple coming forth like the very sun on a gloomy day.

“You’ll see.”

Hyunjin’s eyes fleet to your figure every now and then, but you do not seem to notice, your gaze lost into the blurring lights ahead. He can tell you're still not entirely yourself, so he was prepared to forcibly drag you along with him. He’s almost surprised you accepted to come down so easily.

“Is that… Seungmin?” you speak suddenly, pointing to a man waving in the distance, as Hyunjin parks his car near an empty field.

“And Changbin? And Minho?” you continue, squinting your eyes, “and a bonfire?” you giggle with a hint of excitement.

“You love s’mores during the winter, right?”

Hyunjin smiles, your soul softens.

“I do,” you say quietly, “I really do.”

You quickly exit the car, running into Seungmin's arms with a grin of disbelief plastered on your face. “This is insane,” you almost shout, squeezing him tight in a hug.

“It was so hard to find the perfect middle of nowhere for this,” Minho grumbles as you move to greet him, but the warmth of his embrace assures you he's only teasing.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile as you hug Changbin, who affectionately ruffles your hair. “It was Hyunjin’s idea,” he reveals, and you glance back at Hyunjin, who stands with his hands buried deep within his sweatpants behind you. You mouth a silent “thank you” to him, but he shakes his head modestly as if it is nothing to bring happiness to a bruised heart.

The night unfolds in endless laughter, with Minho and Hyunjin taking turns roasting marshmallows over the crackling bonfire, and Seungmin serving you hot coffee to keep your hands warm. Your stomach aches from the uncontrollable fits of giggles that overtook your being as Minho recounts the time he danced so vigorously on stage for his dance club that he ripped his pants, feeling a breeze where there shouldn't be one; and Changbin tells you the story of the time his voice cracked in the middle of a rap battle, and how none of the boys stopped teasing him about it for months to come.

And as the four of them take turns making you laugh, a quiet, tender realization dawns on you—you are loved. It is something he tried to convince you was impossible, that no one around truly cared for you but him. And even then, you weren’t deserving of his love whole, only scrapes of it, as if you were a beggar tugging at the outskirts of his heart.

But Hyunjin reminded you otherwise. And if your friends found something worthy of love within you then perhaps so will you again, one day.

“Did you have fun?” Hyunjin asks as he opens the door to his, your, apartment hours later. What he doesn't expect is for you to respond by wrapping your arms around his slender torso, squeezing tight in gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he nods, though you cannot see him, returning the embrace by wrapping his arms around your shoulder blades.

Hyunjin doesn't let go first, sensing that perhaps you need this hug more than he does. He smiles as your eyes meet his again, but his grin falters when he notices your gaze flickering towards your bedroom, a hint of unease clouding your expression. It's as if behind that door lie monsters only you can grasp, wearing the faces of people you once knew, once loved.

“Wanna stay with me while I work on the song?”

“Last time I ended up sleeping on your bed,” you say a bit shamefully, recalling the morning you woke up to find yourself covered with a thick blanket that wasn’t there before, alone in Hyunjin's room.

“It's okay,” he shrugs, “I missed sleeping on the couch.”

You stare pointedly at him and he chuckles, “Fine, I did not miss it. But you needed the sleep, so it’s okay with me.”

“Fine,” you concede, though you did not need much convincing for it. “But only if you promise you’ll wake me up if I end up falling asleep again.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, thinking to himself for a few seconds before shaking his head stubbornly, a small pout drawn on his face, his eyes semi-closed. “No.”

“Hyunjin!”

“Nu-uh,” he insists, shaking his head once more as he walks back towards his room. “I'm waiting for you!”

“I'm not coming!”

But you do eventually join him, after changing your clothes and washing your face. You find Hyunjin clad in beige and white checkered pajamas, his glasses pushing back his silky hair as he hunches over his journal, scribbling away before erasing what he wrote.

“Struggling with lyrics?” you ask, leaning against the wall and he startles. “Do you float on the ground? Why can I never hear you come in?”

“Or maybe you just love being dramatic,” you sing-song, laying atop his bed, much more at ease than the previous night.

Hyunjin sticks his tongue out childishly in response, and you playfully mimic the gesture before both of you dissolve into happy giggles.

“Kind of,” he explains once you both settle down, “I have this specific feeling in mind that I need to convey.”

“You'll do well,” you reassure softly, “your lyrics are always so beautiful. Remember Cover me?” you smile and he scratches the back of his ear, a shy grin spreading across his face.

“You still listen to it?” he asks and you nod eagerly, attempting to belt into Seungmin’s ending high note. You fail horribly and Hyunjin throws a crumpled piece of paper on your face to get you to stop singing.

“My poor ears,” he laughs loudly, and you retaliate by throwing back a pillow on his head.

“You just don’t get my artistic abilities.”

“I’d get them more if you stayed silent.”

You gasp, faking offense as you stand up to tickle Hyunjin on his chair, he starts squirming immediately, his loud giggles spilling all over the room, coating it in vibrant hues of happiness, and you’re suddenly captivated by the sight of him— his head thrown back, a golden lock framing his laughter-filled eyes, his top lowering slightly to reveal glimpses of his collarbones and the delicate veins that trace enticing paths on his neck.

You pause, your hand hovering over the side of his stomach, as a long-forgotten warmth spreads through your heart, like the first rays of dawn greeting the earth after a long winter night. It doesn’t diffuse quickly through your being, but rather drapes like sticky honey on your veins, making you well aware of your growing blush, of how beautiful Hyunjin is in his joy.

“Never singing to you again,” you clear your throat, laying atop his bed once again, and quickly reaching for your phone, anything to avoid his eyes which rival the crescent moon outside his window.

Hours pass before a warm hand gently settles on your shoulder, rousing you from your slumber. Blinking away the fog of sleep, you find Hyunjin leaning over you, his grin wide and infectious. “Wake up,” he whispers, but you only groan, burying your face deeper into his pillow.

He doesn’t yield, taking hold of your wrist and guiding your drowsy figure upright, before wrapping the blanket snugly around your shoulders. Without a word, he leads you out onto his balcony, carefully putting his neon green beanie on your head to shield you from the cold.

“It’s snowing!” he smiles, and his excited tone manages to dissipate the fog in your mind. You blink repeatedly and soon enough, you too behold the fallen snowflakes, each one resembling a tiny speck of light bidding farewell to the sky to greet the earth.

“You missed the first snow so I didn’t want you to miss this one too,” he explains, and his thoughtfulness blankets you with a warmth that seeps into every crevice in your body, drips down your fingertips and makes the cold of 4 a.m. seem less harsh, less biting to the touch.

You don’t know how to say thank you, because those two words don’t encapsulate the depths of gratitude that you feel for Hyunjin. Because he is speaking to the person within you who still loves snow, the part buried underneath layers of dust from a ground heartbreak. But you still manage to hear him, and you squeeze his hand tightly, and he doesn’t let go until you finally do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Remembering has become easier for you these past two months— both the good and the bad. And each day, the scale tips towards one side or the other. Sometimes you recall the suffocation you felt with him, the feeling that no matter what you did you could never please him, that your hands were crafted to break rather than mend. And on those days your wound grows, it throbs and bleeds different emotions.

Sometimes it's anger— at him for treating your heart so carelessly as if you were a being devoid of feeling. And then at you— for staying, for giving him excuses and desperately searching for goodness within him, for the one redeeming quality that would convince you he was worth the pain.

And other days bring an excruciating sadness along, a weight that presses down upon you until you're paralyzed. Because you feel bad for yourself and for everything you went through. Because you’re unsure how to rise when unseen hands push you deeper into the abyss.

And on these days, Seungmin becomes your anchor. He buys your favorite food, skips classes with you, and takes you to your favorite gardens. He talks and he talks and you try your best to laugh because you do not wish to worry him more. It is enough to be your own burden, you do not wish to burden him too.

But when he drops you home, your facade slips away, the smile fading from your face as if it were never truly yours to wear. You are too tired to pretend so you don’t, and Hyunjin doesn’t let you, either. He brews you tea and orders takeout because he knows you lack the energy for cooking. He goes with you on walks and drapes you in pieces of his clothing— scarves and beanies and gloves because he knows you couldn’t care less about a cold when there is a frost coating your bones. He lets you sit in his room while he works on his songs, and while he paints. Sometimes you talk and often you don't need to. But he’s there. He's there with you.

But you also remember the good. You remember your movie night with the boys, Hyunjin building an entire fort for you, adorned with twinkling lights and the softest blankets. How you watched movies until 5 a.m. your bodies so closely huddled together that there was no room left for sadness.

You recall Hyunjin begging you to build a snowman with him at the crack of dawn, the two of you collapsing in fits of laughter as you threw snowballs at one another, your footsteps marking the fresh fallen snow.

You remember being so exhausted after one of your showers that you simply laid atop the couch, gaze fixed on the void, too drained to even untangle the knots in your hair. Yet, it is not the tiredness that you exactly recall, nor the salty tears you shed underneath the scorching water jet. But it is Hyunjin's tender hands as he brushed through your hair, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck, his knuckles ghosting over the slate of your shoulder. You remember whispering that it was a particularly hard day and Hyunjin understanding. You remember him watching many YouTube tutorials to prepare your favorite seaweed soup, only for it to end up being too salty. But you still ate it all, because he made it for you, to lift your wounded spirits. And that alone was enough for it to taste good.

You remember your heart hardening then softening again, breaking then stitching itself back together, closing off then blooming like flowers on the first day of spring. You remember smiling only to cry then smile again. And you remember liking snow, a bit more than you thought you would. Because Hyunjin was there, holding your trembling hand, steadying it enough for you to rewrite your memories with winter.

So, you want to say thank you.

You do not wish to spell it out, because there are too many things to thank Hyunjin for and too few words to do so. Instead, you drag him to the farmer’s market near your home, and you tell him to help you pick flowers.

“I could be in bed watching my favorite show and yet here I am bestowing you with my enchanting presence,” he sighs, not too modestly, as you both eye the array of colorful blooms.

“Okay, Shakespeare, are you done?” you roll your eyes, attempting your best to hide your grin.

“Done annoying you? Never. These are very pretty,” he adds, pointing to the white roses in full bloom, their delicate petals emitting a sweet fragrance into the air.

“I agree, what else should we add?” you ponder, picking out four roses.

“Mm, Hibiscus? The red in the center is so vibrant,” he suggests, taking out his phone to capture the flower.

“Cute. Baby breath’s would look good too,” you say as you gather the flowers, heading to the cashier with Hyunjin trailing behind, still admiring the delicate blooms.

“Can I write a note?” you ask the middle-aged man as he wraps the bouquet in a powder blue paper.

“Sure,” he replies with a smile, and you return the gesture, quickly jotting down your words.

“Are you done?” Hyunjin grins when you return to his side and you nod, exiting the flower shop.

“What do you think?” you ask, angling the bouquet towards him.

“It's beautiful.”

“It’s yours,” you smile, growing shier at the intensity of his gaze as it lands on you, then the flowers, then on you again. “Take it,” you hand it to him, your cheeks flushing like the hibiscus’s crimson core.

“Actually?” he says softly, his fingers trembling slightly as he accepts the flowers and you nod in response. You bite your lip as you watch him take out the note, his eyes softening once he reads the words inscribed in it— thank you for making my winter less cold.

“Should we go?” you say a tad too cheerfully, turning away, but Hyunjin grabs your wrist, spinning you around once more. His fingers trail up your arm, coming to rest gently on your cheek as he leans down to plant a tender kiss there.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. You think that if his soft lips grace your skin a few times more, your nerve endings might forget the harshness they were subjected to. If his gentle hands remain on your cheeks, then maybe, your heart would heal quicker, better. Maybe your past self that you long for would emerge again, maybe Hyunjin would be able to unearth it.

Your hopeful thoughts disappear as quickly as they arrive, overshadowed by a sense of helplessness that crashes over you, all of the sudden. You sense him before you hear him, the familiar anxiety that is only synonymous with your ex’s presence.

“Yn?” the sound of your name feels harsher in his mouth, the syllables spat out rather than spoken tenderly, as they are when Hyunjin pronounces it. Your veins run cold as his voice pierces the air, your heart skipping three beats at once before plummeting to your knees. You wrap your hand around Hyunjin’s forearm instinctively, and he looks down at you, his expression morphing into one of concern.

You’re unsure of what he sees in you— whether it is your pale face, the quiver of your lower lip, or the fear that has coated all your features— but his eyes harden, his brows furrowing as he gazes at the man behind you.

You refuse to turn around, bracing yourself for his next words. “Yn,” he repeats his tone laced with anger, his fingertips grazing your arm as if intending to force you to face him. But before he can touch you, Hyunjin intervenes, swiftly stepping in between you and your ex, shielding you with his own body protectively.

“Leave,” Hyunjin's voice is cold, dripping with a venomous edge you've never heard from him before, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury.

“Is this your new shiny toy, Yn?” your ex taunts and his voice cuts through your being against your will, triggering a flood of memories you've tried so desperately to suppress. Memories of his cruelty, his manipulation, and the pain he inflicted upon you—using your love as a weapon to bolster his own ego.

“What's in it for you?” you find your voice again, though it trembles when you speak. He is the very embodiment of your pain and everything you loathe about yourself. You wish for the ground to swallow you whole, for a bolt of lightning to strike the earth, anything to spare you from facing him.

“It's only been three months, I didn't know you were a whore.”

Hyunjin's fist connects with his cheek before you can register his words. It all unfolds so rapidly that you barely have time to comprehend it. Your ex staggers back, blood trickling from the cut on his lip, while Hyunjin stands before you, his chest heaving with restrained anger, his right hand clenched into a fist, the bouquet still held tightly in the other.

“Fine, I deserved it,” your ex chuckles, his voice laced with mockery as he wipes the blood from his lip. His gaze meets yours briefly behind Hyunjin's back.

“You might not be a whore but you are unlovable, keep that in mind.” He spits out before walking away, crude words that tear at every scab covering your wounds, reopening them with a brutal force. Hyunjin moves to follow him, but you grab his shirt, pulling him back.

“He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Your words seem to snap Hyunjin out of his haze as he turns to look at you, worry cast across his figure. He moves to cradle your cheeks but you step back, refusing to meet his eyes. He swallows thickly, clutching the bouquet in his hands. “Are you okay?”

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping as you shake your head slightly. “Let's just go home,” you whisper, eyes fleeting to his for a split second. All the lights in your gaze are muted.

You’re crumbling before him once again and he cannot stop it, no matter how much he yearns to.

It's long past midnight when you find yourself seated on the floor of your living room, a bottle of red wine placed between you and Hyunjin. You exchange it wordlessly, taking turns sipping from it, the alcohol warming your insides but doing little to ease the ache in your heart. You don’t exactly recall when Hyunjin sat next to you, but you don’t mind. You were too lost in your own thoughts to even register his presence.

“Yn,” he calls out softly and you hum absentmindedly, memories of when your ex spoke your name haunting you, each time he yelled your name, uttered it in disdain as if it was the starting point of everything wrong with you.

“Talk to me, please?” he pleads, angling his body towards your own. But you refuse to meet his eyes and Hyunjin’s heart twists in his chest. He is afraid of all the ugly thoughts that must roam your mind. He wishes he could enter it, open the windows wide, and usher the light in.

“I'm sorry you were dragged into this,” you say, your gaze fixated on the bouquet placed atop the table. The crimson painted on the hibiscus’ petals reminds you of the blood that spilled from your ex’s mouth, and your gaze fleets to Hyunjin's hand, slightly bruised from the punch.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, “there is nothing to be sorry for.”

It’s as though you don’t hear him, your fingers trailing gently across his scraped knuckles, tears pooling in your eyes the more you stare at his hand.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice thick with emotion, and Hyunjin’s quick to shake his head. “No, don’t worry about it. He deserved it.”

“You didn’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Neither did you.”

Your disbelieving scoff that follows scares him. What if you’re slipping away into a dark place yet again, one void and barricaded, in which the only sound that echoes is your ex’s hurtful words? What if he can’t reach you again?

“If the only person I’ve ever loved says I’m unlovable then maybe I am.”

You’re drunk, you wouldn’t have said such an ugly thing otherwise, wouldn’t have allowed this sentiment to materialize into the air, to take a tangible form apart from your abstract thoughts.

“No,” Hyunjin says in a panic as though he’s trying to quickly pull the brakes on your free-railing thoughts. He cups your face between his palms, your tears falling freely atop his hands but he does not move away.

“No,” he repeats, more calmly this time. “How he treated you is a reflection of who he is. And how you see him is a reflection of who you are. And you wanted him to be loving because you’re full of love. You wanted him to be good because you are a good person. And he can’t stomach that, can’t stomach that you are happy without him so he’s trying to ruin you again.”

“Hyunjin…” you shake your head but he only inches closer to you, his thumbs gently caressing your cheekbones. “No, listen to me. Seungmin loves you so much he couldn’t eat properly for the first few days you stayed here, texted me all the time asking me how you were and if you were feeling better. He isn't good with words so instead he tries to make you laugh. He wishes he could give up parts of his happiness for you.”

A sob swells within you but Hyunjin presses on. “And Minho, he tried to memorize all your favorite recipes so he could cook them for you. It isn’t a coincidence that every time we go over to their dorm it is your favorite food that we eat. He takes more pictures of his cats these days so he could send them to you because he knows it cheers you up.”

“You told me Changbin doesn’t know you well enough to fight for you but when we saw your ex across the campus one day he wanted to get up and beat him. He always asks me if you are well and if there is something he can do for you, anything.”

He inhales deeply, tears welling up in his eyes as well. “And me…” a tender smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, “you make this house a home. I feel like my true self when you are around and loneliness doesn’t come to me as often as it did. Because you are here. You are like a beam of sunlight that lightens up every life you touch, mine first,” he’s baring his soul to you, vulnerable yet resolute. “So tell me, Yn, what’s not to love in you when you yourself are so full of love?”

“Hyune,” you speak the nickname for the first time, and Hyunjin’s heart thrashes achingly around his ribcage. “If you keep talking like this I might end up loving you,” you smile sadly at him as if it is a terrible thing to be loved by you.

“But I don’t want to love you, because I won’t know how to, not anymore. So I'll end up leaving. And I'll long for you, and I don't think I can stomach longing for you from afar.”

“So please,” you place one hand atop his own, wipe away the lone tear rolling down his cheek. “Don’t make me love you, hm? You deserve more than to be loved by someone like me.”

You leave Hyunjin in the living room, alone before the white flowers you gifted him. He doesn’t want to put them away in a vase, for as soon as he grabbed them from your hold, everything around you both crumbled. So he leaves them there for the night, the creamy white petals aglow underneath the moonlight. He spends the night painting the bouquet from memory, but the petals end up too tinged with red, perhaps mirroring the blood his heart refuses to stop spilling still.

He did not realize it before, maybe he blinded himself so he wouldn’t see what was before him all along. But it is all the clearer to him now— that in his attempts to make you love winter again, Hyunjin only ended up loving you.

A week later.

hyune [1:25 a.m.]: i miss you

You and Hyunjin spent the last seven days avoiding one another, well you more than him. He just understood your silent plea when you took a step back the one time he tried to talk to you in the kitchen, swallowing thickly before inching away, allowing you to move past him.

You did not know how to face him after what he said, partly because you were embarrassed by your own response, mostly because even in your drunken daze, his words etched themselves permanently into your memory.

It is his reassuring words that echoed in your brain for the past week, not those of your ex.

hyune [1: 26 a.m.]: and i miss sleeping on the couch

You giggle, shaking your head before replying.

yn [1:26 a.m.]: no you don’t

hyune [1:26 a.m.]: no i don’t ㅠㅠ

but i finished the song

wanna hear?

Walking to Hyunjin’s room feels as familiar as going into your own. And when your gaze finally meets his you can’t help but break into a relieved smile. It was foolish of you to punish yourself, enough people have done that for you already.

“Hey,” he greets tentatively, and you respond with an awkward wave, a moment pregnant with anticipation passes before both of you dissolve into laughter.

“What is this? Are we in middle school,” he teases and you giggle, settling comfortably on his bed once more.

“I know. We are so lame.”

“You are,” he corrects with a grin and you gasp, pretending to leave but he quickly catches your hand, stopping you. “No, please stay. I meant it when I said that I missed you,” he repeats quietly, as if afraid that his confession would make you run away once again.

Your heart aches, the knots in your stomach tightening and unraveling all at once. “I missed you too,” you admit softly, and he smiles, his thumb tracing a gentle path above your pulse before releasing your hand.

“So it's done then?” you ask and he nods, running a hand through his hair with a hint of anxiety. “How do you feel about it?”

“Good. I hope you’ll like it, mostly.”

“I'm sure I will,” you reassure him with a soft smile, and he nods once more, pressing a few buttons before his melodious whistles fill the air once again.

Nothing could have braced you for the sound of Hyunjin's voice that followed, its timbre soft as silk yet imbued with profound sorrow. It's as though he recorded the song on one of his loneliest nights, his honeyed vocals dipped in an excruciating nostalgia that seeps into every corner of the room, every corner of your heart.

In the faded photo, I come across a smile spread across a youthful face, overlapped with the seasons.

Your gaze flickers to Hyunjin as a shadow of recollection dawns on you. You remember telling him that you couldn’t stomach looking at pics of your past, ones in which you smiled so freely because you were blissfully unaware of what was to come.

The night’s so cold that it’s almost unreal.

Because you weren’t aware of the winter that will follow and the biting cold that it would bear, for everything that will go astray in your relationship, for your ex's facade to crack like a glacier succumbing to the pressure of lies and pretense.

I wake up in another silence, and I close my eyes.

You remember Hyunjin confessing that silence haunted him more than words ever could, and you had agreed, sharing how sometimes you shut your eyes, pretending that the reality you woke up to wasn't the one you were living.

The white flower we planted together has bloomed. I do not dare pick it. Now it withers away.

You gaze at the white flowers you brought him, now wilted in the vase placed on his desk, yet Hyunjin refuses to throw them still. You see the card you wrote for him hung on the wall, right next to the dried red rose. He kept it. Though it withered, he kept it all.

So I long for you. And I long for you. And I'll long for you.

You remember the longing you both spoke of, how he understood a feeling you felt so incredibly alone in. How he tried to reassure you when he too was caught in the webs of the past. How you longed for him in the past week. How you wished he longed for you just the same.

So I can keep loving you. So I could be loving you. And morе.

The violin swells and so does the emotion in your chest. You remember him asking you ‘What’s not to love in you’ and how you've spun those words in your thoughts ever since. You remember thinking that if he gave you a few more weeks, just a bit more time, you might have found it in you to believe them.

You see Hyunjin’s glimmering eyes holding yours, you see his heart atop a platter handed to you, and you see the resignation in his being. Don’t make me love you, you told him. You didn’t dare to tell him not to love you in return, deemed it too foolish of thought to entertain.

For he was Hwang Hyunjin, the quiet producer who paints in his free time and who wears his heart on his sleeve. Who remains hopeful, loving, and tender, despite the thorns pricking at his side. Who is beautiful, so much so that he allowed you to see beauty in the universe once again, through his eyes.

How could he love you?

How could you not love him?

“The song,” you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips as you stand, trembling, on your feet. Hyunjin rises too, meeting you in the center of his room.

“It is about you. For you,” he says simply as if his words don’t cause your world to burst at the seams only to mend itself once again, too eager to fix itself and exist in the same timeline as Hyunjin.

“I don't… I don’t know what to say,” you say earnestly, feeling your heart pound in your chest, its beats resounding loudly in your ears.

It is wrong of you to assume he wishes you to say something. He is Hyunjin, the one who finds words in your silences too, after all.

“I don’t need you to say anything,” he shakes his head, taking another step closer to you. “I don't want an answer, I don't wish to pressure you. I just wanted to tell you that my love is here, it is yours to take or to leave, to cherish or to discard. But it is yours, because this is who I am. I am someone who loves you.”

“So do not tell me to forget you because I don't know how to. And don’t tell me that you’ll leave because I will love you still, because you’d still be you, near or far, you are you. And you are someone I long for.” He pauses, his voice softening. “And I long for you, Yn, more than anything I've ever longed for. And I've spent all my life longing.”

His lips meet your forehead tenderly, and you feel your entire being grow limp at the chaste kiss, as if your limbs wish to liquefy and form a puddle on the floor. His touch is soft, and you miss it the moment he parts from you.

“There must be something in this room that keeps on making you cry,” he smiles and you bring your hands to your damp cheeks, surprised to find there tears you didn’t realize had fallen.

“It’s you,” you pinch his arm playfully and he squirms away from your hold, stabbing his toe on the desk in the process. A loud fuck echoes around the room, and your laughter dissipates the tension clinging into the air.

“Can you play it again?” you request softly and Hyunjin’s theatrics fade as a shy smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Is it good?”

“It's everything to me.”

“It's called ‘long for you’, by the way.”

“Long for you,” you repeat quietly. There has never been a prettier combination of words.

The title all but makes sense as you lay on the bed, your gaze fixed on the paintings hung on the wall, Hyunjin sketching quietly on his desk, the song resonating softly in the background. You've longed for many things in your life—the person you once were and the tender love you once craved—but amidst it all, nothing has weighed heavier on your heart than the longing for the man sitting just two meters away, almost in your loving grasp. Almost.

❁ ❁ ❁

It is an excruciating five days that Hyunjin spends apart from you, the both of you too caught up in your assignments to find a moment to properly speak. But you do not shy away from him when he greets you, and your grin is kind as it drapes across his being, and Hyunjin swears he has never seen a prettier sight than you smiling.

On the sixth night, Hyunjin completes the cover for the song— a figure wrapped around itself protectively, mirroring the way you hug yourself in your sleep. He hangs it on the wall, right next to your thank you card and the white bouquet he drew once again, wishing to properly immortalize its beautiful flowers, to purify that memory from the tumult that followed it.

On the sixth night, the house is quiet, the full moon high up in the sky, snowflakes falling softly to the ground. Hyunjin wonders if you too mimicked the snow’s descent— both of you falling apart with it.

But then, there’s a knock on his door.

His heart catches in his throat, his body freezing as if it forgot how to move. You are here.

“Come in,” he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. You push the door open, and Hyunjin's words wilt on his tongue as he sees what you're carrying—another bouquet, filled with white flowers, yet again.

“Hey,” you smile, standing by the door.

He remains silent, unsure of what to say, or how to speak. He longs for you when you are away, even more so when you’re before him.

“We shouldn't let these white flowers wither away too, right?” you smile slightly, placing the bouquet on the desk before walking to Hyunjin’s bedside. His voice falters, vocal cords refusing to move and overshadow your voice.

You sit beside him, gently pulling his hand so that you’d both lie on the pillows. Your hand doesn’t leave his own, instead, it moves to rest on his cheek, reminiscent of the many times he had cradled your face before. Inch by inch, you close the gap between you, nuzzle the tip of your nose against his own. “Hi, Hyune”, you say softly, and he swallows thickly, his voice coming out just as quietly.

“Hi, my Yn.”

“If we take care of the white flowers together do you think they’ll survive a bit longer?” you ask, your gaze never wavering from his, countless stars twinkling in the depths of your irises.

“I believe so,” he says tentatively, too aware of the warmth of your palm against his skin, of the sweet ache unfurling within his being.

“Mm, and even if they wilt we can always buy new ones. We can learn how to care for them better, with time,” you say, and he nods in agreement, laying his hand atop your own, tilting his head to bestow a chaste kiss on your palm.

“With time,” he echoes softly and you smile, vulnerable yet secure in his gray sheets, in his hold.

“Will you give me time too?” you ask, and Hyunjin reads in your eyes what you mean, understands in the shake of your voice the question you are too afraid to voice. Will he give you time to heal in order to love?

“As long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, pressing his forehead gently atop yours, and you both close your eyes, as a running warmth encloses you both, blooms a blush on both your cheeks.

His arms wrap around your back, drawing you close until your chests are pressed together, your head resting naturally in the curve of his neck. And it is long forgotten in your mind, all the nights you slept in this very bed alone. You feel safe, safe enough to long for love knowing that it patiently awaits you behind the door, once you find enough courage to turn the doorknob. You feel serene, as Hyunjin’s warm palms glide soothingly up and down your spine, as every muscle, every nerve, every atom in your being relaxes in his hold.

You are healing, slowly, with each fleeting second that passes in which Hyunjin’s heartbeat resounds within your chest, as its melody runs through your veins, melds with your own as if it was destined to be there all along. As you rest in Hyunjin, as you find a safe home within his soul to discard your worries at the doorstep and breathe.

“It did get better,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Hm?” He leans back to look at you, and he’s so beautiful, so tender as he gazes at you, you can’t help but trace the contours of his face with your fingers, hoping to commemorate him with your eyes, with your touch.

“You promised me it’ll get better, and it did,” you smile, as your legs further intertwine with his, and his rose perfume becomes an indelible mark on your skin. “Too bad I can't hit your pretty face now,” you joke and he giggles, tipping his head back.

He's so beautiful, body and soul, and he longs for you, you alone.

“But I can still do this,” you murmur before finally pressing your lips against his like a boat finally reaching the shore after months of sailing. You both exhale, in yearning, in relief, as your mouths move together in a slow, languid dance, his hand finding the pulse on your neck, yours settling atop his jaw.

He would kiss you again, this intimately, in the coming months, when your heart expands enough to contain the love Hyunjin deserves. He would kiss you again, when your past comes to haunt you, and healing sounds like an elusive myth you’d never encounter in your life.

And he would kiss you again, over the kitchen table and under the fridge’s light, in between paintings and in supermarket aisles, while picking flowers and watching the first snow.

He would kiss you, this tenderly, in the next winter, and the ones after it, as if his longing for you never wanes. Till blow three disappears from your memory, till all you remember is the love, the true one, the kind one, the soft one Hyunjin alone could have brought you.

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬

order 85 | scenarios | Riddle, Leona, Azul | Gender Neutral

❀ NOTE: Can you guess what my inspo is? (In English class my nose randomly started dripping blood)

Small description of blood (nosebleeds specifically)

➺ Riddle Rosehearts

It happened at the worst time, during a small tea party with Riddle. With Trey serving tea and all these little pastries you felt like nothing could go wrong.

You felt something come out of your nose and you sniffle, just dismissing it until it doesn’t stop.

“MC…” Riddle gives you a harsh look.

It was sorta embarrassing when Riddle gives you that look. “Sorry sorry maybe something triggered my allergies!” You cover your nose and then you look down at your hand, you understand why he was staring.

Riddle rushes over to you with a hand towel and presses it against your nose while he leans you forward.

“Does it hurt? Are you okay? What did you do??” He continuously asked questions one after another.

Even after you insist you’re fine and nothing in particular caused it, he’s adamant on keeping an eye on you.

“I think you need first aid…” He says while staring at you from the other side of the table.

“Riddle I’m fine—“

“I can’t let you leave, maybe you need a check up.”

༻ Leona Kingscholar

You were talking to him, you weren’t there to talk to him because you wanted to but you just owed Ruggie a favor and he asked you to get Leona and bring him back at Savannaclaw.

He was laying on the floor looking the other way while you stared down at him. “Look, Ruggie really needs you.”

“He can wait.” He grumbled.

“He said right now. Seriously he sounded really concerned when he sent me.” You tried to reason with him.

You went from politely asking, getting angry, whining, then to just pleading. Throughout the entire time he didn’t look at you once.

In the middle of your sentence you sneezed, you felt something drip out of your nose and you quickly covered your nose with your hand.

“Bless you herbivor…” he trailed off and turned his body towards you.

“Sorry this is kinda gross.” You said while covering your nose more.

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s alright this will go away.” But it just kept going, with his napkin you had no idea what to do.

He stared at you trying to clean your hand up and also your nose until he had enough. He mumbled under his breath before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“I’m only doing this because I don’t like the smell of blood. Let’s go to the infirmary.” Though when he said that, you couldn’t see the look of concern on his face.

⊱ Azul Ashengrotto

He was locked up in his office as per usual but you had some business to deal with. You had a temporary deal where to work for Mostro Lounge for money just for a week. Despite being a temporary employee you had the same expectations.

“Azul, please…” You bowed deeply to him. “Just let me go home early.”

“I don’t see why. It’s only been 3 hours and you have 2 more. Why not just finish off your shift for today.” He replied back with a displeased look.

“Because I have homework! I need those hours for studying.” You argued. He simply rolled his eyes and returned back to his paperwork.

“Very well, if you leave though you are terminated and won’t receive any compensation for the hours you’ve worked this week.” He said calmly with a smug look on his face.

You were about to grab him and shake him around. Until you sneezed, you covered your sneeze with your arm and held it there, feeling something was wrong.

“Your sleeve, that’s not sanitary for customers. You should get changed.” He grabbed a tissue and held it out to you. You removed your arm away from your face and stayed silent.

He almost yelled, key word almost, and stood up rushing over to you. “I don’t think this is normal for humans?! There’s so much blood…”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to get the uniform dirty.”

“I don’t care about that.” He abruptly said, “You need first aid.”

Even when you protested and guided you into his seat and pulled out the first aid kit.

[palms-upturned]

Just adding on that Strawberry Seed Collective is another org that apparently has been doing outreach to verify fundraisers, I’ve been contacted by some ppl citing them as a verification source and they’ve compiled a list here of accounts that they’ve vetted

Ok so i got this reply on this post talking about how palestinian bloggers are getting their accounts deleted and banned by tumblrs automated moderation system, and listen i have no interest in putting this person on blast cause i genuinely Dont think this sentiment is coming from a malicious place.

But i do want to talk about this nonetheless because i dont think you guys are realising that the people making these accounts and reaching out to us are doing so in english for OUR benefit, so that they can be understood by the english speaking majority on this site.

A lot of the people (not all but quite a few probably) are just not comfortable speaking in english!!! They may be using google translate to reach out to us and understand what we say back, and we all know how janky those translations tend to be. On top being completely unfamiliar with Tumblr's posting etiquette (which i do recall a lot of people were all taking pride in for being SO different from other sites not too long ago), there's a very obvious language barrier too.

Of course their posts will not be "natural sounding" enough for you.

And that's fine. Good on you for staying vigilant etc etc.

All I'm asking of you is to understand what you are asking of people when you demand that they "sound more natural" so that you can find them "convincing". You are demanding them to be fluent in language and culture they are not familiar with, when theyre already here at all because theyre in the middle of a genocide and just trying to survive.

So if you do get messages from palestinian people who want to spread their campaign and want to call yourself an ally, please dont immediately report them. There are places you can check to see if they are legit or not, there are palestinian bloggers who are working really hard to make sure any money you donate are going to people who actually need it instead of disgusting scammers who are trying profit off their misery.

Literally all you have to do is type their url into the search bar, and most likely you will find out if theyre a scam or not. If there arent any results you can just ask someone. Just dont outright dismiss thats all i ask.

This is the least effort you can put in from your side

[burstinn]

REQUEST!

as a male!Reader, I feel very represented in your works,

could you write a male!Reader that’s really tall? Like, humongous? In hight, and body? (In the military as well)

I always see male!Readers that are so small and tiny and baby.

like, no. You get me? Just saying. Thanks!

Male! Reader with the height and body of a goddamn Monster.

(Headcanons)

Note: some mentions on top reader but I like to keep it ambiguous. So you can read it as a switch! Reader. This is a quick drabble of some Hcs

People shown: Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Price, Keegan, Graves, Nikto, König, Horangi, Logan Walker,Roach, Makarov, Krueger

-Reader is 6'5.

-Basically built like the Russian terminator guy

GHOST

- Got shocked when he first saw you, wanted to seem more intimidating than you.

-So he puffed out his chest and glared at you.. Bro wants to challenge you nahh 😭😭🙏🙏

-You would fold him tho ngl (in the ring and in bed fr fr)

-when he got comfortable with you kinda jealous his title of the big, tall intimidating man got taken away.

-When you sparred with Ghost it was a tough fight but you managed to get Ghost in a chokehold wrapping one of your tough bulging sexy ass arms around Ghost's neck.

-Never knew he wanted to be man handled so bad it was Hot he had to excuse himself and run off because he got hard.

-Starts imaging if your cock is just as big.. Spoiler alert.. It is..

SOAP

-Looks at you then Ghost mind blown that there was someone more humongous than Ghost

-Teased Ghost for awhile

-Drools over your pecs..

-He totally dreams of being crushed by you..

Or being crushed between Ghost and you.. Or both..

-Asks if he could feel your guns (Your arms..)

(IT COULD ALSO BE YOUR HUGE THROBBING CO-)

-Keeps glancing at your cock. Even though it's clothed.. I mean look at you.. Your manhood is basically too tight for your pants he can literally see your outline.

-Soap asked if he could measure your Length.. So he could see how far it could go inside of him YK?! YOU UNDERSTAND.

GAZ

-More interested than having dirty thoughts.

-Keeps asking how you got that big

-Wants to be just as strong as you

-Cutie patootie (T_T)

-Basically hangs around you to see how you work

-Even follows you so he could watch you train and spar

-Asks about your diet and if how your body looks is genetic

-inspired by you. Like a child (😭😭WHALUAAHHAH GAZZ)

PRICE

-Beneficial for him I mean he gets to have another soldier that's just as intimidating as Ghost.. Maybe even more.

-Is like a proud father

-Talks to everyone about you and how bla bla bla

-Trains with you

-He'd show you tricks and tips on how he trains and you show him tips and tricks on how you train

-Probably has a picture of you at his desk.. Beside the other pictures of his other not biological family. Aka. The whole 141..basically has a pic of everyone they all family up in 'ere

KEEGAN

-Heh.. Yknow.. Pictures..

-In the showers in lockers makes sure he's there near so he can see you in all your glory

-Probably had wet dreams about you

-Also makes sure he's there when your training. It's not like he's obvious everyone there is fuckin watching you

-What's that? You wearing a compression shirt? 🤨🤨 nuh uh in the sex chamber you go 👉

-Touching, touching, touching EVERYTHING

NIKTO

-Quiet

-What the fuck

-Silent panicking

-Jealous very jealous

-Compares himself to you, would train harder just so he can look like you (bb nooo 😭😭)

-Would watch also how you train your body so he could copy it

-You caught him once training in the middle of the night.. And he's using your technique on how you use the punching bags.. He's just getting some stuff wrong..

-When he notices you he got.. Slightly embarrassed and angry.. Panicked inside when you came closer asking him if he was using your technique in training

-You trained him properly on how you do it.

-so like now.. You train him in the middle of the night..

GRAVES

-same as price shows you off but more in an annoying way

-Hes boasting

-Would face you off against his strongest shadows no diff you still win.. Yuuuhhh

-Subtle touching like hand on shoulder, arm, head whatever.

KÖNIG

-Relieved that he has someone that looks like him.. Albeit slightly shorter.. Still!

-Got nervous meeting you first.. Forced himself to act tough to impress you I mean he is a colonel

-Makes sure to be in missions with you. Wants to see you in your most serious and intimidating

-Got intimidated himself once he saw how you act on field

-Tries to be on your good side the whole time

-One day he was watching you and just started thinking about YOU KNOWWW!!

-Blasphemous! He got red and cried to Horangi about it

HORANGI

-You know about this guy

-He's silly

-He'd read fanfics thinking it's him and you

-he'd make fanfics too, about you and him maybe adds König

-Shows it to König all proud and shit as if König isn't looking at him with absolute horror in his face when he reads what Horangi wants to do with you or you with him.

-He's delusional

-Slapped your ass and blamed it on someone else that's near him. It was König.

-Is it as veiny as your arms? A man can only dream.

-gives you a soda can and tells you to crush it in your arms.. Better yet in between your legs.

-Would then tell you like "good now do my head"

-PlEASE let him be between your thighs

LOGAN WALKER

-Rolled his eyes when he saw you

-Avoids you like the plague

-Why doesn't he like you? No idea. He a big pussy bitch is what. He sad you get more dick n pussy than him.

-Complained about you to Hesh

-He may not like you. He can't lie tho. You are good at your job so like he can't do anything about that

MAKAROV

-Sex Chamber. Now.

ROACH

-Quiet around you..

-Looks up at you like a damn bug. It's cute. He likes it when he looks up at you

-He'd jump on you and crawls around like a cockroach

-haha funi jok

-Would use your shoulder as a seat.

-If you do pushups he'd be on top of your back

ALEX KELLER

-Oh..

-Audible gulp sound (haha he's drinking your seme-)

KRUEGER

-Curses in German

-Dreaming about HAHAHAHAAHAH

-If he's fingering his gun to clean it he just.. Thinks..

-If he sees YOU finger your gun to clean it.. That's it he's done.

-He's dragging you somewhere

[strwberri-milk]

hihiii, hope you've been staying hydrated!!!

i have had brainworms about touch-starved genshin men being extra sensitive in every way possible when it comes to being close/intimate with the reader - cuddling, casual affection, sex, etc. etc. obviously write what you're feeling, but i was thinking about diluc, dainsleif, kaeya, and alhaitham!!

Diluc doesn't realise how badly he needs your attention until he's suddenly deprived of it when leaving for a business trip. Upon his return to you he refuses to let go of you. You end up walking around with his arm around your waist or his chin resting on your shoulder.

He doesn't seem to be able to get enough of you, spending the day holding you and the night making you forget everything but his name. He kisses you with a vengeance, hands running all over your body and squeezing you tightly, not leaving an inch of your body untouched.

He'll be a little embarrassed about it when his brain is less fuzzy with need for you, refusing to admit that he missed you as much as he did. It's really a moot point though considering the fact that he's still holding your hand, not wanting to let go of you.

Dainsleif isn't super into physical affection - his preferred method to show you affection is through acts of service. However, sometimes he does look at you and just decide that he needs to squeeze the shit out of you but like, in a loving way.

You squeak a little when he comes up behind you to wrap his arms around you, holding you close. You give him a confused look when you feel his grip tighten around you a little. He's worried he's already hurt you, backing offYwhen you pull his arms back around you.

You don't mind that he's staying attached to you. It's a little awkward with how big he is and how he's hanging off of you but you decide not to question it. He's not normally this affectionate with you but you really like it, not wanting to drive too much attention to it in case he gets too in his head about it.

Kaeya also suffers from cute aggression and when he looks at you it's terminal. You know he wants to hold you when he stares intensely at you, not saying anything but his hands almost twitch a little. He wants you to come closer but he doesn't know how to ask, staring at you longingly until you sit yourself down on his lap.

His arms wrap around you, sighing happily as he cuddles you up, You let him lightly pinch and tease you, letting him work out some of his feelings towards you through other physical means. That ends up with you underneath him, Kaeya deciding not to tease you too much right now in favour of drawing as much pleasure out of you as he can.

His stamina is normally pretty good but now it seems endless. He's holding you tightly, wrists pinned above your head as he has his way with you. His voice threads itself into your ear, cooing sweetly as he praises you for taking him so well. He's pretty happy with himself when it seems that he's melted your brain a little, peppering your forehead in kisses so sweetly it's like he never fucked your brains out.

Al Haitham's neediness manifests very subtly. You can barely tell that he's craving you until you feel his sigh on your shoulder as he pulls you into his chest. He puts his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling against you a little as he leans against the counter while he holds you.

He remains fairly quiet, not really responding to anything you say to him because all he can think about is how much he missed you and how badly he needs to feel you pressed up against him. He turns his head to press some kisses against your cheek, telling you quietly that he missed you after a while.

You end up directing him to the couch so he can hold you in a more comfortable manner. You manage to convince him to put his head in your lap, running your fingers through his hair and talking at him about nothing. The noise allows him to relax, closing his eyes as he takes all of you in, subtly nuzzling against you as his brain goes quiet for once.

[midnight-pluto]

COMPARISON — scar

You know Scar, and you know why he’s so obsessed with this ‘Rover’ character — he’s told you why, but why does it still hurt watching him act as if he was a lovesick puppy to them?

contains: established relationship, the relationship is lowk toxic, jealousy, insecurity, rovers gender is left ambiguous, canon-ish, swearing, angst, short fic

a/n: scar is so pretty omg; also the lack of scar x reader content is CRIMINAL

‘IT’S JUST FOR the mission, it’s just for the mission,’ is what you kept on repeatedly telling yourself in your mind, but it really doesn’t look like it from your side.

You can tell that this ‘Rover’ is prone to noticing the little things and figuring out everything with just one piece of the puzzle, so you decide that it’s best to keep your distance from the matter at hand occurring in the village.

The conversation they were both having was being played clearly in your ear — a hidden microphone on Scar’s waist, his idea, not yours. He offered up this idea as a way to assure you nothing special was happening, but you wish you would’ve never accepted it in the first place.

Hearing the words Scar say would’ve been sweet, if only they were directed towards you. You weren’t dumb, you could hear the flirtatious undertone in his voice as he spoke to them.

Swallowing thickly, you take a look at the picture given to you previously as to what Rover’s appearance was like; suddenly Scar’s words made more sense in your head.

Their dark hair was disheveled but still managed to look effortlessly good on them; did Scar ever think of you that way whenever he saw you get out of bed? Their clothes complimenting their natural appearance beautifully; did the red and white of your clothes really suit you?

It took you years to achieve what you have with Scar now, but Rover was able to see and receive genuine interest from Scar in just a matter of moments.

Just listening in on their conversation felt like you were the one interrupting something, like you were third-wheeling your own boyfriend, as if you were a side piece in your own relationship.

Embarrassing.

“Huh?” you audibly let out, tapping your earpiece with your gloved finger multiple times. Only the sound of static could be heard. “Shit.”

Scrambling for your binoculars in your messenger bag, you shuffle them out and life them to your eyes to see what has occurred in the village below. Narrowing your eyes, you see that Rover had skillfully disabled the microphone on Scar’s waist with their blade.

“Of course,” you scoff out, dropping your binoculars back in your bag and proceeding to walk away from the scene.

Your terminal beeps and lights up and you pause, seeing that Phrolova had called you. “Leaving so soon?”

Huffing out a sigh at her words, “I see no point in staying.”

Humming in thought for a moment, she merely says, “Alright, go on then.”

The soil beneath your feet crunches underneath you with droplets wetting them at the same time; the sky is clear today.

SCAR’S EYES WIDENED at the sound of the mic clattering onto the ground, falling from his waist. “Well, aren’t you good? I thought you wouldn’t notice it so soon.”

“And I thought you said you didn’t want anybody else intruding on our conversation, seems kind of hypocritical to have a microphone attached at your hip,” they taunt.

“Perhaps,” he shrugs, burying down the feeling in his stomach. “But they too, were special to me, I just wanted to share a conversation with two very special people, and what’s the matter with that?”

“So they’re special to you?” they raised a brow, suddenly interested in the newfound topic raised.

Scar laughed at their attempt to get him to reveal information about himself, but he would never put you in jeopardy like that — never in a thousand years. “Did I say that?

“Well, it’s not like you’ll ever get to find out any time soon,” he stomps on the already broken microphone, smashing it to pieces.

Rover simply rolled their eyes, “Just give me back Yanyang so we can be done with already, I’m bored of your story.”

“And here I thought that we already established,” Scar took a few strides forward, “That you aren’t in the position to bargain.”

Unbeknownst to Scar, you had left your earpiece in, the sound of static becoming wonderful white noise to you. The unfortunate part was that you could only hear a few bits and pieces of their conversation out of context.

“…were special—“ were? What does he mean by that? Why is he using past tense? Is he saying that to fuck with them or because he thinks you can’t hear him anymore? Or are you just reading to far into it?

“..two very special people—“ it should only be one, shouldn’t there? Is he saying that Rover’s already as important — if not more important than you?

Harshly taking out your earpiece, you throw it into the dirt. Unable to let out a frustrated scream you let your anger out through crushing the earpiece under your foot.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you glare back down at the shattered earpiece beside you. Rubbing the corners of your eyes, you begin to walk away, “The white noise wasn’t even that good anyways.”

a/n: not my best work — obviously — since i wrote this in an hour, on my phone, with fake nails. but i was feeling like shit so i dumped it all here, sorry kinda sorry

[awfulalignmentcharts]

what the f%#$ does ____ mean on that stupid ass ship chart

saw a few questions, so ask (the air) and ye shall receive.

top section

"describe their vibe" — you can interpret this at will. it's just a space to put whatever you think encapsulates the vibes of their dynamic/them as a relationship. it can be like a list of tropes, a dumb tweet screenshot, some other type of image, anything really.

everything else should be straightforward lmao.

rest of the shit below the cut so i don't take up your dash space.

continuums section

"repressed vs (sexually) open" — as it sounds. repressed as in like they're a prude or open as in they're down to bang on the regular.

"no libido vs terminally horny" — not horny to very horny lmao

"aggressively romantic vs allergic to PDA" — kinda like how private the character is/how embarrassed are they by the notion of displays of romance. do they prefer lowkey displays of romance or are they dramatic about it?

"(severely) mentally ill vs mentally stable" — fairly self-explanatory. are they full of mental problems or are they actually mentally sound?

"kms'ing over being in love vs blushing giggling twirling hair" — pretty much their reaction to being in love, specifically with the other person. do they hate the fact they love the other person, or are they super giddy that they're in love?

"doomed by the narrative vs blessed by the narrative" — it's a little open to interpretation but my usage of it for individual use is like how fucked over by the canon events are they individually? (if the relationship's doomed, they're probably both on the doomed end; if the relationship ISN'T doomed but one was severely fucked over by the story's events, then they could be in the doomed section while the other one could be hovering elsewhere)

"big spoon vs little spoon" — self-explanatory. it's cuddle time. who's the big spoon, who's the little spoon.

"the weapon vs the wielder" — ngl, this continuum may not actually work too well for some healthier ships, but the general vibe of it is like the weapon is the one who tends to do things at the wielder's behest. the weapon is commonly more of a warrior type, more of the "protector" (and may also have self-worth issues), while the wielder is the one that typically gets protected, may have a great deal of importance for some reason, and is sort of the "user" of the weapon. you're more than welcome to make your own interpretations of it lmao

the pyjamas — based on this image: (who's the sleepy old man with the candle that goes snork mimimimi vs the beautiful wife who's likely also a damsel in distress)

"jealous vs chill" — should be fairly self-explanatory, but like is the person chill with their partner, or do they easily get jealous when the attention isn't on them?

"has zero game vs insane game" — are they bitchless or can they pull bitches? regardless of charisma (or lack thereof), can they actually get laid or not

"functional vs soggy loser" — are they a functional member of society with their shit together or are they born-in-a-wet-cardboard-box, perpetually soggy, capital P Pathetic?

the other shit

"what brings them together?" — what are some reasons that this ship actually has grounds? what do they have going for their relationship?

"what is keeping them/kept them apart?" — were/are there any reasons why they haven't just kissed yet? what are those reasons?

"poorly describe their meetcute" — describe how they met but be funny about it.

"list their reductive fandom tropes/fandom appeal" — reasons why people might ship them or like the ship. (e.g. enemies to lovers, angel and demon dichotomy, etc.)

"who's the armrest?" — two guys. one likes to turn the other into an armrest by sticking their arm on the other's shoulder (or something; done possibly with the intent to annoy). who's the one that's being used as the armrest more often?

"who's the headrest?" — two guys. one puts their head on the other more frequently. who's the one that's more often turned into a head rest?

"who fell first?" — who fell in love first?

"who fell harder?" — who fell in love harder?

"who cooks" — should be obvious lmao

"who cleans up more messes?" — can be literal messes, or who more often deals with the fallout of the bullshit one of them gets up to.

"who's the bigger yearner?" — who yearns more?

"who confessed first?" — should be literal.

touch

should be fairly self-explanatory, but it's kinda like what is or isn't off limits to contact of any form from the other person. say character A is entirely red while character B is entirely purple. A is allergic to any form of contact anywhere from B, while B fucking loves anything from A.

[hamsternella]

[PART 2] Yandere!Muzan (+other demons) x Elusive!Reader

cw: yandere themes, stalking, blood, gore, violence, forced relationship, r*pe/non-con elements, mdni

characters in this one: muzan, kokushibo, douma, akaza, hantengu, gyokko

FIRST PART HERE

TIP JAR

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Of course your arrival would not only interest the Pillars; now you also have the demons. Your missions have been encompassing the lower ranks, but as you eliminate them with simplicity and speed the word spreads, and with it comes the most anticipated interest.

Akaza is the first to bring the news to Muzan, the father of demons. It doesn't take long for Dōma to find out through gossip from Gyokko, alerting Hantengu in the process. You're a celebrity!

But fame is merely a temporary thing. Muzan finds your appearance curious, perhaps because you went unnoticed all this time until Ubuyashiki required your talent. What more could you bestow beyond a couple of acrobatics and the basic ability to wield a sword?

Yeah, sure.

He was wrong. And that's saying a lot—for Muzan, at least. But to have to see for himself who you were was to accept the first defeat: he had been wrong. You didn't just brandish a sword, leap and twirl in the air; nor did you seem to smell the scent of demons on the wind, much less contort your face into a grimace of horror. You had had one of the most powerful demons in front of you and the first thing that had seemed sensible to you was to ask the most ridiculous question of all:

'Who are you?'

Muzan

Muzan thinks you're an idiot. It's the only justification he sees possible to explain why you don't know who he is. Even when he introduces himself to you, the most logical thing you have to respond with is that 'he has to prove it instead of just saying it'. Ridiculous. As if that wasn't enough, you don't carry the weight of his revelation on your shoulders, let alone the fear hanging in your eyes, and you don't even put your hand on the handle of your sword. What are you waiting for? Was this all a plan of Ubuyashiki's to distract him? Was this a trap?

Muzan genuinely believes that there must be something wrong with your head. Maybe some terminal illness; or maybe you really are afraid. Possibly you were a coward. But the more time passed between you, the more the demon realized that he was still wrong about that. You just didn't care. About him, his name; neither did you care about fighting or defending yourself. It wouldn't be surprising if neither did death, if you could stand and be silent—the boredom eating your face.

It took Muzan an —embarrassing— moment to realize that the reason for your disinterest was because there were no longer any humans in that village. Or perhaps you had evacuated them, or one of your companions. You yourself confirmed to him instantly that Ubuyashiki was suspicious of a supposed appearance of him in the area, and that's why you went ahead. Muzan had to admit that the move was clever; but your way of making him feel humiliated, even more so. If that's what you wanted to achieve, at least: make him angry at your audacity.

"You should wield your sword."

"You could kill me now," you replied simply. "No one will stop you."

"Aren't you afraid?"

"Of what?"

"Death, of course."

"I find no point in being afraid of such a good friend."

Muzan finds your ability to remain calm throughout the encounter fascinating. He could feel the rhythm of your breathing alter as his blows increased; not exactly the strongest, but useful enough to bring out a hint of your nature. You knew full well that the demon in front of you was playing games. It would be ridiculous to think it would be that simple to dodge and hit back a couple of blows as if it were nothing—but you continued to give it your all.

The resolution of this encounter has two paths with the same ending. The first is that you decide to escape, taking with you the demon's deep gaze on your figure melting in the night, in the distance. The wind dragging the murmur of your breath among the leaves. The second is you deciding to strike full on; the edge of your sword reflecting off the ruby surface of Muzan's eyes, before being stopped by his hand in midair. The flow of your blood would pulsate beneath your skin—the life coursing through your veins in a confrontation with death.

Whatever you do, Muzan can think of only one thing as he recalls the way your smile was planted on your face, perhaps the product of a state of pure adrenaline: you could become a demon.

Your laughter burst in your chest, vibrating along your throat, against his hand.

"Do you think my proposal is funny?"

"I think it's ridiculous."

"The idea of outwitting death all this time didn't seem entirely ridiculous to you."

"I plan to live as a human, and die as one. I don't understand the need for something as ridiculous as immortality is."

Your sword fell to the ground; your hands dangling in an instant from Muzan's arm.

"You do not fear the Gods," you muttered between your teeth, "but someday your judgment will be mortal—of that same mortality you once denied..."

"Mortality? Divine judgments?" he interrupted. A choked laugh escaped from between his lips; corners quivering in a crooked smile. "There are no such things. Have I ever been punished or even prevented from committing all the atrocities that haunt my name?"

His fingers caressed the skin of your neck, sliding the tips of his fingernails along your blood pulse.

"There is no such thing as Gods," he whispered. "Have I ever seen one, ever?"

A reflection of his smile appeared on your face, and Muzan had a bad feeling for the first time in a long time.

"You must look for them in the light," you whispered back. "Look at the light, Muzan. Look at the sun."

Clever little shit.

Muzan is turned away from you in an instant, trying in turn to hide a genuine smile as he watches you speed away into the light. You were going with the Gods—those who are cruel, unjust. You were leaving with a smile plastered on your face; more like a tense gesture, not exactly serene. He took the road back, almost disappearing into nothingness itself before being devoured by the sun.

After this encounter you may consider yourself unfortunate. The eyes of the beast were set on you with wild interest; humiliating memories behind them, and intrigue growing as time goes by. Muzan considers you weak but interesting. He believes your potential could be of help, both to you and to them—if you are a demon, of course. At first it is a proposal that he intends to offer you again, and that if rejected then you would have to die... if that's possible with you.

The dynamic with Muzan is somewhat strange. What makes him start obsessing over you is your ability to avoid death; even if you have it next to you, you never feel affected by it. He begins to designate different demons to find a weak point, something with which he can seriously hurt you or keep you cornered; but he soon realizes that there is no way to keep you between a rock and a hard place unless he uses force majeure. The most obvious is to choose some upper moon—marking you like an animal going to slaughter, with one of his best executioners.

Muzan would be an obsessive and possessive yandere to extremes. He is a violent demon, who enjoys sadistic practices towards you; and who can only come to experience some kind of 'love' for you if you yourself seek to manipulate behind the scenes his weakest point: you.

Whether you're a demon or not, it's pretty clear he doesn't plan to kill you anytime soon. He would never admit it, but losing you would be far worse than having to chase you all his life.

Kokushibo

Kokushibo regards your transformation with the same intensity as Muzan. He thinks it would be a waste of talent for death to come to you so soon; especially with how pleasant you appear to the eye, and how easy it is to exchange a couple of words without the need for a sword fluttering in the air or those uncomfortable, bitter vibes common to fear and anger. Nothing emanated from you—not even a hint of joy.

Kokushibo notes with deep curiosity how little you care about being in front of him. It is intriguing, but eventually annoying. He doesn't understand what is so wonderful about you that Muzan would extend his mercy to you. Of course, you are useful to some extent; but also extremely ridiculous and purposeless. If you had one it wouldn't matter either—even you didn't take your situation seriously enough.

It would take Kokushibo a long time to become obsessed with you, but once he does, he recognizes it; and with that, he becomes a real threat. At first he would be so because of his own demonic nature—his lack of principles and his lack of even psychological mortality, a product of years of living as a monster surrounded by other monsters. But being obsessed with you, Kokushibo becomes possessive and constant; never stopping in his tracks, whether he has to kill thousands or even exterminate villages to take over your humanity and condemn you to immortality.

Kokushibo is upset at the idea of sharing you, but he knows that if he were to refuse, everyone would fall victim to Muzan's wrath. Because of this, he only demands a certain amount of attention from you, within certain times and moments. It's very specific—but necessary to quiet his need for you. Kokushibo, being in a good mood, a product of your good attention and complete devotion, is a great training partner; as well as being an interesting individual to chat with thanks to his experience over the years. The anecdotes are plentiful, and will certainly keep you entertained.

Like Muzan, Kokushibo would be a possessive yandere in extremes. When angry he would be sadistic, but extremely passionate in intimacy. Both do not enjoy displaying in front of others acts of affection or appreciation, but would certainly do so in private; especially if you ask them to. It would cost much more with Muzan, being that he has a big barrier due to his own ego—but that is not the case with Kokushibo.

Should you earn their respect, you can rest assured that Kokushibo would be a pleasant companion, capable of providing you with something far better than those mundane pleasures you pursue as a human. Isn't that appealing? Immortality, power, and death in the palm of your hand; whenever you need it, wherever and however you like it best. Not that it matters, of course. By hook or by crook, sooner or later, you're going to fall—right in with them, where they await you with deep longing.

Dōma

Dōma is a danger to humanity, but especially to you. He becomes obsessed with you from the first moment, with all of Muzan's words fluttering around him as he engages in a fight with you. He finds your frustration amusing, and your incredible ability to hide it alongside other pure emotions—a serene face is the only thing visible to one who doesn't know how reason and heart work. But Dōma knows; and of course after the encounter he is fascinated.

He understands Muzan's obsession, just as he understands why Kokushibo chooses to agree with him. You have potential. You're not exactly a person who fights, because it's clear that you prefer to avoid it, but you know how to move and how to use your words to reach people. Dōma finds it entertaining; plus he can find that aesthetic 'charm' that Kokushibo talked so much about, referring to how nice it is to have you in front of him. Your aura is amazing.

Although Muzan and Kokushibo are dangerous because of how sadistic and violent they become, this is mostly a response to anger or disappointment. It's something that with Dōma is quite different. This guy is fucked up, because he may seem happy and nice, but he still enjoys sadistic practices and even sexual punishments —if necessary— for no apparent reason. He just wants to get his hands on you.

Dōma is excited about transforming you into a demon, so that he can see you accomplish many other things better than just wielding a sword and dying of old age. The idea of having you by his side for eternity is exciting, and unlike other demons, sharing you is not a problem for him; he finds it fun to watch you bond with other upper moons.

Dōma wants to teach you that life is something to be cherished, and that's why you need to be a demon if you plan to persistently seek to play with death. Impossible for you to get hurt that way! Besides, isn't it amazing to be able to have a lot of power and have amazing individuals like them on your side? Dōma loves devotion, and especially if it's directed towards him; constant attention, companionship... Let him know that you're not listening to him or that you don't believe him, and rest assured that some punishment will be laid upon you.

Dōma is an annoying and dangerous yandere. If you're the type who enjoys peace and quiet, then rest assured that you'll find it impossible with him around. You're going to need to assert your own dominance if you don't want to end up being considered a pet in his eyes—but not too much, anyway. Don't let him feel it necessary to punish you to remind you of certain ideas.

Akaza

Akaza does not cease to be a problem once he becomes obsessed with you, but he might be better than the others if we consider that he does not opt for physical punishment; just as he does not support sexual abuse. Akaza is an honest demon who shares the idea of transforming you so that you will endure over time. He believes you have a lot of potential for the future, were it not for your mortal limitations and your lack of interest in the benefits you could gain from embracing change.

At first your encounters with Akaza are about quarrels and pleasant chats. You find him an interesting demon because you can't quite understand his principles; and he, likewise, is interested in you because of who you are and how you do the things you do. The fact that you have so much potential but no one is interested in the company of slayers to develop it is frustrating to him. There comes a point where Akaza tries to force his blood into you, seeking to bend your spirit to transform you into a demon before Muzan and the others—but you escape at the last moment.

Needless to say, this event corrupts the image you had formed of Akaza, and drives you away from him with a growing hatred in the depths of your heart. He, for his part, regrets having made you react in that way, but only for having driven you away; not for having caused harm in your heart and conscience. What Akaza most fervently desires is to have you bound to the eternity they enjoy. Wouldn't you suffer more as a mortal?

Akaza would be a sweet yandere, but not considerate. He doesn't care about your reasons about humanity, justice or life. What matters is that you are safe from mediocrity and agony, and that you enjoy an eternity of endless power and pleasure. As I said before, Akaza is against the practices of Dōma and Kokushibo—especially with those of Dōma. He doesn't think it's a proper thing to abuse you and seek constant devotion; for what he adores most is your loyalty and your particular —but pleasant— way of being.

He does not enjoy sharing your time, especially if it is Muzan's time to have you by his side. Akaza is quite jealous and can't stand the idea of other demons laying a hand on you, or even addressing you in a disrespectful manner. Unlike him, who is patient and kind, fights with others —or sparring, as they liked to mockingly call it— are violent against you; always pushing your boundaries, forcing them. Akaza feels sorry, but on the other he can't help but feel satisfaction in having you—even if it means you suffer a little in the process.

Sooner or later you will have to go to him, either to learn to command respect and find your place, or to have some healthy companionship. As far as it goes, at least. Akaza is delusional about a lot of things, but have no doubt about how much you'll need him when you want a hug, and need the sweetness of a couple of words whispered in your ear to soothe the bitterness. He will always be there.

Hantengu

Hantengu is too terrified to approach you and complete Muzan's mission regarding your transformation. It is Dōma who ends up forcing him to meet you at the beginning, and who recommends him to use all his 'cards' to make sure you don't escape. What's more: did you know that it's because of Hantengu that you could end up being caught by them?

He alone is pathetic, and it's hard for you to carry on a conversation without seeing his fat tears streaming down his face as he trembles like a miserable wretch. There comes a point where you question whether you could afford to abuse his misfortunes to feed your frustration with life. Whether you do or not is entirely up to you—and no one and nothing will stop you in the process, keep that in mind. Of course, your actions would have future consequences.

It doesn't take long for Hantengu to decide to get into the game in the best possible way: with his manifestations. Each and every one of them is much more active with you than he could ever be; and depending on whether or not you have abused Hantengu, they will react to you in a positive or negative way.

If you decide not to harass him:

Hantengu would be a sweet and shy yandere with you. He would not need his manifestations at all, and at a certain point he would find your company as a soother for his anxiety and misfortune.

Sekido would be the one who holds the reins in the 'relationship', always taking care of your punishments and your rewards depending on how you act with them. He is the most jealous, too. Sekido would be the most likely to abuse you; sometimes even lying about things you haven't done, just so he can lay a hand on you.

Karaku would be the most likely to sexually abuse you, always at Sekido's side, as he enjoys your fear and pain. Other than that there is not much more to tell; he is someone unpleasant and tiresome, but easy to ignore if you beg enough from Sekido or Urogi.

Aizetsu is the most delusional, but also the easiest to handle. Not having made Hantengu's life difficult makes him hold you in good esteem, and he decides to be the shoulder you can cry on while he feeds off your grief and your need for emotional support.

Urogi is hopeless but funny; at least if you start to lose your mind and need to pretend some other kind of normalcy. He's not delusional—he definitely knows what's going on and supports it wholeheartedly. He's quick to admit how much he likes you, but he doesn't lay a hand on you until he notices that you're minimally opening up to him. Urogi can save you from Karaku, but not from Sekido.

If you decide to harass him:

Sekido is much more violent with you. It is a constant. His punishments are brutal, and his abuses habitual. Begging him for help to get rid of Karaku is impossible; it is he himself who invokes the other manifestation to take advantage of you.

Karaku enjoys seeing you being abused by other demons, going to the extreme of making it public and even more humiliating if possible. It is such a punishment, that your body ends up wounded; and no matter how many regenerations you have, the psychological damage is permanent and incapable of being explained with words. Akaza is aware of the fact; Dōma and Kokushibo have sometimes participated in the sexual encounters, adding their own punishments.

Aizetsu believes that you lack something, and that you are afraid to open your heart to new opportunities. So much is your pain —in his mind— that you go to the extreme of harassing the weak and sensitive; taking advantage of them to satiate your bitterness. He does no physical harm—but without a doubt, Aizetsu is a master of psychological torture. The punishments of the other manifestations and his emotional harassment bring out the worst in you.

Urogi recognizes that you need to learn a lesson, and starts abusing you along with Karaku when Sekido needs help. He enjoys adding Aizetsu, because he thinks it's sexy how much your face contorts in shame when they tell you what an idiot and piece of shit you are. Nothing is hotter than raping you while you beg for mercy. He'd still love and appreciate you anyway—you're funny at the end of the day.

Gyokko

Gyokko is the last one you meet, considering he spends his time working on his vases, or being busy devouring humans and collecting them for his artwork. As Dōma constantly describes him you'd rather not run into him; but eventually, at a meeting between the moons, he makes his introductory act, and for you it's impossible not to look away, disgusted.

This demon is particularly sadistic—worse than Dōma, depending on your perspective. Gyokko is narcissistic, so as soon as he recognizes that it is you whom Muzan praised and pursued so madly, his jealousy blossoms quickly. He hopes your fame doesn't go to your head, or he'll have to put you in your place. You have to be very careful with everything you do or say around him if you don't want to end up in pieces.

Gyokko begins to obsess over you as a result of his constant delusions about the two of you being 'rivals'. He is haunted by the idea that you are all the time making fun of him, considering yourself better and more skilled; but it takes some time for all his ideas to turn into an uncomfortable perspective for you. Gyokko believes that you are the one who is obsessed to a certain point.

He sees your attempts to listen to him as a way to get closer to him and his ideas—to mock, steal or destroy them. Gyokko recognizes that on your own you are already amazing and beautiful; but he also considers that you are unfit to be a demon, that you are a worthless piece of shit and deserve punishment to put you in your place. At this point Akaza's advice or help is useless.

With luck and wit you can win his favor, and get Gyokko to consider you more than just a useless piece of meat. You could be his muse! If it wasn't enough with him getting jealous of you, now you'll have to watch him get jealous of others; because Gyokko hates the idea of sharing you, but he knows better than to just break Muzan's golden rule. Because of this, he takes his anger out on you and blames you for others forcing him to have to share your body and charms.

Gyokko's favorite punishment is to force your body to fit inside his best pots, where he enjoys your panic at the cramped space and impending darkness. Sometimes he forces you to be surrounded by blood and gore; or suffocates you as Dōma abuses you. But be careful not to break the vessel! Each piece is a mouthful of pain through your esophagus.

Gyokko is one of the most problematic and tortuous yanderes. I feel sorry for you. Even his jokes aren't good—but if you pretend to be a mess, at least he won't get jealous while teaching you how to make pots.

.

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Fun facts about...

MUZAN,

If you win his favor, he is willing to punish Gyokko; or also Hantengu and his manifestations.

He is ironically one of the most passionate and enjoyable lovers during sexual encounters.

If he's in a good mood, of course.

He gives the longest but most interesting conversations. (He's better than Kokushibo!)

KOKUSHIBO,

He appreciates the moments in silence, staring at you.

He loves the way you fight.

In private he likes to praise how very agile and strong you are; as well as elegant and captivating.

If it's not true, don't tell him; he doesn't like to be contradicted.

DŌMA,

He gets excited if you show you feel something other than hatred for him.

His wet dream is for you to accept a seat next to him in hell.

He likes to watch you sleep; sometimes he even covers your nose so you can't breath.

He likes to hug you.

AKAZA,

It makes him tender to see you wake up when you can't breathe because of Dōma.

He is somewhat embarrassed to have to access you sexually.

Twice he has been a spectator of your sexual punishments.

He is bitter to see you like this, so he decided never to do it again.

HANTENGU,

(If you don't harass him) He secretly admires you.

He thinks you're some kind of lucky charm.

He is a potential stalker.

He loves it when you caress his back.

GYOKKO,

If he is ashamed he becomes violent.

If he becomes violent, you pay.

If you do but he doesn't think it's enough, you'll suffer worse.

So don't say anything when you find out he's looking for the perfect flower to create a unique pot for you.

[autumnmobile12]

My Hero Academia AU: Living Ghost

A little bit different than my other comics; I've never done a time lapse before.

In the Ambush Simulation notes, I mentioned that Dabi has a canon divergence in this AU where he returned home after the three years he was missing/presumed dead, but nothing in the household changed and he was still an unhinged mess.  This is the AU comic behind ‘unhinged mess’ and the partial reasoning behind his antagonistic behavior in The Summer Camp Ambush Simulation.

…

All right, so canonically Dabi is a walking, half-dead, Lovecraftian nightmare of mental and physical health issues who's keeping himself going through sheer willpower/hatred.  Ujiko says that after waking up from the three year coma, he should not have survived longer than a month as a result of the injuries he sustained from the fire.  So even in an AU where he was reunited with his family after the fact, that’s still the reality of his situation.

Enter Endeavor: In this scenario, at that point in his character arc, I think he would have retreated back into his usual pattern of refusing to face the issue. The Todoroki family got Touya back, but they also learned that he wouldn't be with them long. If a missing/presumed dead child turns up after three years, they're immediately going to a hospital to establish mental and physical condition, so the health issues resulting from the fire would have been discovered almost immediately.

From the point of view of Endeavor, Touya's return was cause for celebration and was initially viewed as a second chance/an opportunity to repair some of the damage he'd already done to his family...but then the severity of Touya's prognosis becomes apparent and they're told he has weeks to live. In Ambush Simulation, Endeavor takes the coward’s way out and leaves the problem for everyone else to deal with so he doesn't have to face Touya.  He told himself it was a way of not getting attached and so on, and no matter how much he tries to deny it, the avoidance is his guilty conscious.

The same goes for Rei. She refused to see Touya after he came back just so she wouldn't have to say goodbye to him a second time.

But Touya doesn't die.

Despite what the doctors predicted, he survives '...albeit with complications, various emergencies, experimental treatments to delay the inevitable, no clear answer on how the hell he was still breathing, and no promises that he would ever live a full life...' And now, just like in canon, he has 7-8 years of simmering resentment with the trauma of a near-death experience, the realization of having lost three years of his life due to the coma, the fallout of terminal health, and the crushing disappointment of what should have been a heartfelt reunion turned into a second abandonment.

In this AU as a vigilante, Touya has the Pandora’s Box of being an outrageous public menace and a potential family embarrassment because he figured out the only time his father pays any attention to him is when he’s ‘acting out’ and he decided he’d rather be the problem child than the invisible child.  And unfortunately, this mentality has also ruined his relationship with Natsuo.

In some respect, canon is a happier outcome for Touya because at least in canon, the poor bastard has a purpose instead of reduced to a living ghost.

…

The piano panels are him rehabilitating his hands.  Technically after a three year coma, he should not have been walking and talking as quickly as he did.  Not with that kind of atrophy.  So I’m balancing that inaccuracy out with the headcanon his fine motor skills were likely completely ruined.

Plus, if your life is a train wreck, have at least one positive hobby.

...Yomaha...

[sillylilreader]

a fateful hue (Shoto Todoroki x Reader) (Soulmate Au)

sorry I haven’t posted in a bit :/ haven’t felt well tbh

Summary: In a world of soulmates, where you experience color upon finding your soulmate, you discover yourself entangled with a certain dual toned employee after a rather amicable breakup.

Warnings: angst, fast paced, alcohol, breakup, not a happy ending,

It was a lousy morning, for a lousy day, for an even lousier night. You’d lost your job, your boyfriend, and even your wits all in one day. 

Your job had been threatening you with termination for months now, saying you’d taken too many days off, been late too many times. Today was the last straw, as you showed up at 7:31, instead of 7:30. It was silly, really, that this was the nail in the coffin for them. Surely, someone else had fucked up worse that day. But alas, you had received the boss’ rage in the end, as she kicked you out with your box of little decorations and doodads. 

As for your boyfriend, you knew it was over long ago. You’d known each other for ages, stayed together for the familiarity. But as soon as you shared your first kiss, your first touch, you knew it wasn’t gonna work. You both pulled away with the oh so familiar look of disappointment. As soon as he called you, voice filled with a suppressed excitement, you knew he’d found his soulmate. You let him go, with not so much as an ‘oh no’, and just like that he was packed up and gone when you returned home.

‘The least he could’ve done was clean up…’ you thought to yourself, a slight anger bubbling in your tummy, as you returned to a trashed apartment. 

The apartment wasn’t trashed per say, but there was a slew of trash left in his wake. Anything he didn’t need was left behind. The familiar emptiness of the home left you hollow, feeling little like a home and more like just a room.

You were never one to dwell on the little things, moving through life at a brisk pace. But as you neared your thirties, getting steadily closer by the day, you found yourself becoming more and more desperate to find your soulmate in life. Your now ex boyfriend and you had thought you were being revolutionary by settling for each other, but as made apparent by his absence, neither of you were that happy with the other.

Maybe you should have fought harder.. You wondered. But, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t have stayed for you. It’s not that you thought you weren’t worth it. But you knew if you were in his shoes, you would have done the same.

As the sun went down, you decided a good bit of alcohol would do you some good. Anything to warm the ache in your heart, as you found yourself drowning in your own sorrow. You put on your warmest coat, trekking outside into the monochrome glow of the lowering star. 

Shadows crossed your path and blended into the pavement, making eerie shapes as you walked on by. 

You soon found yourself in the nearby liquor store, scanning the bottles on the rack, looking for something familiar. You were so involved in your search, that you barely registered the dual toned head of hair behind you. 

“Miss..?” they mumbled out, in a voice soft and monotone, causing you to jump in place and nearly knock over the display stand.

You whipped around, almost bumping into the stranger. “Sorry?” you stuttered, embarrassment flushing your cheeks.

The dual toned eyes met yours, two shades of gray, matching the white and gray hair. “Are you looking for something… specific?” It was then you noticed the familiar employee uniform.

You also couldn’t help but notice the beauty of the man. He wasn’t just handsome, he was gorgeous. His bone structure was perfect, and beneath his uniform, he was seemingly fit.

Your brain stumbled over the words, struggling for maybe a minute too long. 

“Um... not really…” you paused momentarily, desperate to continue a conversation with any living being. “…do you have anything for a, um, breakup..?” You tried to maintain composure, even tried for a laugh, but as the words left your mouth, you’d finally realized the weight of your situation. Your lips trembled and your eyes watered, the burden of your body becoming heavier.

The employee reached a hand out in your direction, as if to help you with the weight, but he seemed to think better of it, retracting his hand at the last moment. A frown graced his features, an expression you thought shouldn’t look so perfectly poised on anyone. 

“Um... we have some… stronger options, this way,” he gestured to your left, offering to lead you down the aisle. You sniffled, gratefully accepting the help, following him down the lane. 

Your footsteps fell, quietly in sync with each other. It was a short walk, very short, but as you wiped away your forming tears, you thought you caught him sneaking glances at you. 

If it wasn’t for your shitty circumstances, you’d be flattered by such a pretty guy checking you out. 

I mean, come on, he looked your age, he had a calming air to him, and he even seemed to be a gentleman.

 ‘No, he’s just doing his job…’ you thought, disappointed in yourself. Getting yourself interested in someone so soon after your break up? Bad luck, you don’t want to treat someone as a rebound. 

As you reached the section of stronger alcohol, a brand known for its near toxicity, you turned to thank the boy, but he had already wandered off to continue helping customers. 

You found yourself a bit disappointed at his absence.

Afterwards, you quickly picked out your poison of choice, and made your way to the checkout, surprised to find him waiting for you there.

You waved, softly as if you were scared to disturb him, as you placed your product on the counter. 

“Thank you. For showing me, I mean… I know it must be tiring to deal with unaware people all day..?” You ended your sentence, as if it was a question. Embarrassment crept up your back as you floundered to save your mistake.

He scanned the product, a slight beep filling your ears. It would annoy you, if it weren’t for the boy in front of you.

He simply quirked an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile on his face. “No worries… Happens all the time,” he muttered absentmindedly. 

Once he had bagged the item, he turned to you. “It’s on me..” he spoke carefully, as if he might surprise you again.

You read his nametag carefully as he spoke, barely registering his words.

“Oh! Really? Well, thank you… Todoroki.. It was nice meeting you..!” you smiled, as wide as you could given the circumstances. You were sure he could see the sadness in your eyes, but it didn’t matter to you.

“Yeah, you too…” he waved, carefully, as you left, his gaze following you out the door.

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

It wasn’t long before you found yourself wandering back to the liquor store. You were intoxicated, not blackout, but close. You weren’t sure why your feet led you this way, but you were sure you had to get there. 

It had been weeks since you’d last seen him, or even been to the liquor store, but after a night on the bar, your feet drug you ever closer to his place of employment. 

Was this creep behavior? Yeah. Were you following through anyway? Also yeah!

As you were met with the familiar buzz of the neon sign, illuminating the sky around you, you found yourself questioning your motives. What did you hope to get out of this? Another small greeting? Todoroki didn’t seem like the social type, and surely wouldn’t appreciate a random stalker.

Sober you would be stopped dead in your tracks by this realization. But drunk you? They saw this as an opportunity! Maybe he would think you’re special, showing interest in him.

As you took your next step forward, into the shop, a hand grabbed you from behind, covering your mouth, and pulling you into the back alley roughly.

You squirmed and kicked against the strong hand, to no avail. You tried to scream, but nothing escaped you. 

As you began to run out of air, and the lights dimmed around you, you heard a door swing open and a quick set of footsteps. A loud crack went off, and you were dropped to the hard ground. 

As you regained complete consciousness, you were met with dual toned eyes, watching you wearily. 

“Are you alright?” a worried voice reached your ears, as his gaze raked your figure, looking for any injuries.

You quickly collected yourself at the sound of his voice, Todoroki’s voice, no less.

“Mmyeah..” your speech slurred, much to your embarrassment. Your brain was foggy, and you still hadn’t processed the attack. 

Your eyes quickly found the body of your assailant. He was a big dude, with dark hair and, apparently, darker motives. As you searched again for your savior, you caught Todoroki glaring down at him with the utmost look of hatred.

As if sensing your gaze, he perked up, meeting your eyes. “Let me help you up..?” he held a hand out in your direction. You gently waved his hand away, getting up yourself. You almost swore you caught a look of disappointment, faintly visible on his features.

It was then you realized just how beautiful he was, perfect bone structure and sharp eyes. His long lashes fanned across his cheeks so gracefully, you almost thought it was mascara, or falsies.

In your drunken staring stupor, you came to the conclusion that the moment had become awkward. Your cheeks flushed, as you tore your gaze away, hands coming to cover your darkened cheeks. 

His bicolored eyebrows knit together, as Todoroki watched you closely. “Can I walk you home?” he muttered, fidgeting with his phone. “At least let me take care of the 110 call..?”

You nodded faintly, grateful for the help.

As the two of you padded home together, you found yourself admiring him more, and more. You didn’t know much about him, but surely he was a kind soul if he helped you out. Anybody else would have turned the other way. And it was surely helping that he was so good looking.

You hiccuped, covering your mouth, flustered. Todoroki met your gaze, a confused look on his face as his eyes fell on your hand, hovering over your lips. Quickly, a dark hue dusted his cheeks and bled into his ears, as if he had an embarrassing thought. 

“Whatcha thinkin ‘bout..?” Your speech was slurred, bringing heat to your cheeks. “Anything interestin?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he mumbled, a surprising bit of humor laced into his tone. Was he laughing at you? 

You frowned, small enough that nobody would care, but big enough to notice. 

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

Soon enough you found yourself placed in front of your apartment, both of you lingering together.

“Come inside..?” you muttered, barely loud enough to be heard.

His cheeks lit up, dusted with a heavy blush, eyebrows knitting together. “Sorry.. I.. I dont..-” 

Your eyes widened at the implication you made. “No! Not what I meant, ‘m sorry,” your words came out jumbled together, further embarrassing you. 

You sighed, dissatisfied at his lack of a proper answer, and slid down the door to your apartment, head in hands. You felt his careful stare on the top of your scalp, care and uncertainty filling his mind. 

“I guess.. I could come in for tea..?” Todoroki winced as he said it, ever so slightly, a ghost of an expression, really. What was he thinking? You were some stranger he barely knew. He was aware of some connection to you, but was it worth the risk? 

Apparently, it was.

As your face lit up, he knew he made the right choice. Your cheeks flushed, and your features displayed a look of excitement as you raised your head to meet his look. You nodded excitedly, rising from the ground, and clumsily unlocking your front door.

At your reaction, he flushed, a deep gray dusting the tips of his ears. Todoroki averted his gaze, eyeing the lights that adorned the apartment building, illuminating each doorway. 

As you lead him through your front door, he couldn’t help but notice the state of the place. The place was cluttered beyond belief, with little memories hidden everywhere, hard to let go of. His attention fell on a specific doodad, a small cat figure, each side a different color. The left half a pale tabby, the right a dark, patchy hue. 

He tenderly picked up the cat, inspecting it. Holding the dual toned feline, he caught your attention. 

“You like it..?” he nodded in response, a slight look of intrigue in his eyes. “You can have it,” you slurred, plopping down on a loveseat.

“I can’t accept this,” he shook his head. “It’s yours.”

You gingerly patted the space beside you, as you reassured him, he could keep the figure. Todoroki sighed, squeezing into the love seat with you, careful not to touch you. You felt a little hurt at the implications of his fear. You absentmindedly twiddled your fingers, humming to yourself. 

You two tried your best to make small talk, chatting amongst yourselves. You found his quiet nature endearing, but couldn’t help but want him to open up to you.

Wouldn’t that be special? It’s always nice getting someone to trust you. 

“So about the tea?” he gestured towards your kitchen, catching your attention. You instantly rose from your seat, so quickly in fact, you found yourself falling forward.

Todoroki reacted in the blink of an eye, extending an arm to catch you by the wrist. 

As soon as his skin came in contact with yours, your sight erupted into beautiful colors. Every hue of the rainbow made its way into your vision. Todorokie must have noticed it too, as his grip immediately loosened, causing you to drop to the floor.

As you rubbed your head, feeling the pain from the impact, you took in your surroundings. Todoroki stood over you with his hands to his chest, looking terrified. “I need to go…” he mumbled, under his breath. 

You instantly sobered up, hurt clear across your features, and not from the fall.”Huh..? But, surely you see it too?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I need to leave,” And just like that, he sped for the door. “Goodbye..” he muttered, letting the door slam shut behind him.

You let your head fall back to the floor, ignoring the dull throbbing pain it brought. The real pain resided in your mind, your heart. Of course your soulmate would flake out on you.

You drowsily picked yourself up, the cold, hard floor trying to pull you in as your skin peeled off it. You made your way to the bedroom, haphazardly taking off your clothes and throwing them onto the carpet. The bed welcomed you in, dragging you into its warmth. You found yourself drifting off rather easily, thoughts and disappointment consuming you.

[weebsinstash]

Really contemplating the possibilities of yandere Vox but you meet him as his employee

--"this could've been an email" but it's your yandere boss constantly forcing you into unnecessary company Zoom calls which may not be occasionally just the two of you and he may or may not try and make himself look more cool/handsome with some sort of dumb filter or trick of his (and also your coworkers can kinda lowkey tell why they're suddenly getting pulled into calls where your boss is making them cringe trying to make your oblivious ass laugh or something and they all kinda hate you for making their jobs more annoying actually 😅 so then you have Vox potentially being a shoulder to cry on if people are being mean to you--)

Actually, about that office bullying.... something like... you overhear your coworkers in another room or around a corner or something talking shit and making fun of you to the point you start to cry and you turn around and Vox is there watching you totally about to boo hoo baby sob and you like, have to borderline run away from him because you're crying and you're hurting and just want to get away from everyone, but you also don't want to embarrass yourself and make some sort of scene where they'll mock you even more, so you're just, excusing yourself in tears, not even talking to Vox, not even confronting the others.

Here's Vox, just ever so casually popping his head into the room where your coworkers are still mocking you, "hey you guys? :) you're fired! :D and also? Since I own your souls, how about you do as I say aaaaaand go tell Valentino he's allowed to shoot you?" and Vox then goes to comfort you and says the gunshots are "like, a trespasser or something, it's so weird, so, um, anyways, I was thinking maybe you and I could--"

--VoxTek already having or suddenly installing crazy biometric surveillance state level equipment all over their portion of the tower, which includes a security camera in every office/workspace (which of course means there's ESPECIALLY one in yours). This man would be all but drooling over your retina scans, talking about how gorgeous your eyes are, all counting every pore or hair or scale you have on your face in extreme up close detail

--One on one training where if you mention even the slightest interest in something, he's completely indulging you or at least hearing you out. You wanna learn something coding-related? You wanna learn about music production? Oh, you say you have a product idea? And an idea for a commercial for it too? And if you're actually GOOD? If you, at the very least, give him solid ideas to build off of? Now you're getting an even bigger promotion to, say, his executive creator director or something! Maybe he'll invent some new position just for you and absolutely no one in the company will tell you about it because they're threatened with something much much worse than termination if they do

He does want his boo to feel important and special 🥺❤️ like he's a grown man from the 50s, he's older than you no matter what, but especially he's kinda coddling you a little if you're in your 20s or especially young like 18, he's got major cute aggression for you

--You're just in the company break room trying to enjoy your lunch and.... why is the head of the company in here with the normies? Oh, of course it's to sit with you. I can't help but think he probably eats a really shitty, processed, kinda typical modern gamer diet despite having the money to indulge himself, probably does on occasion, but, I can really see him appreciating a home cooked meal and ESPECIALLY if it's by you.

D'ya.... d'ya think he'd just... stick his fork in your lunch... and you wouldn't feel like you could say anything because He's A Fucking Overlord

--Imagine you've been employed like MONTHS before he becomes aware of your presence as an employee and, you started as a barely paid intern or, something real low level, SO low level that, Vox doesn't actually own your soul. So. After several MORE months of buttering you up, really giving you some good raises, some absolutely AMAZING fun times, he's dropping the bomb on you: everyone else at the company has their soul signed over, and you're the only one, and, honey, it's kind of company policy, so--

When I say I would love the idea of Employee Reader just IMMEDIATELY "w wait you wanna... What the fuck do you mean you wanna 'own my soul', why, why the fuck would you-- you know what, nah, I'm, I quit? I quit." And you're literally fleeing the fucking room, potentially having to jump out a window in case Vox has some sort of, lockdown defense mechanism, maybe one to keep angels out, but, you escape, and next thing Vox hears?

"Wait, what do you fucking MEAN 'THEY'RE A SOUND MIXER FOR THE RADIO DEMON NOW'--"

[aikuse]

-> first meeting: first sunset | 1,425 words. gn!reader, reader wears a bikini, alcohol consumption.

author’s notes: he’s so summer love, god. i’ll probably expand on this eventually but this is very selfship coded,,,also semi-inspired by @dearkiryu and i's convos abt him 🤭

you remember the first time you met jo togame.

you’d just gotten off the plane, the smell of the sea tingling your nose as you had bounded into the terminal, your carry-on in tow. you make it to your hotel without issue, and spread out on the bed, rolling around the soft sheets and smiling to yourself.

the beach had drawn you in quickly, pulling you by the strings of your bikini as you wander across the sand. a few chairs are set up, scattered across the beach in speckles of blue and white and teal. you’d sat for a long time in the spot of your choice, sipping on one of the beers in your cooler.

you’d been swiping through the matches in your phone absentmindedly, not really invested but interested to see where things go. you don’t even pay attention to what the guys look like; many of them look so similar. surf body, blonde curls, blue eyes. “yes, i get it, you live in california,” you mumble to yourself as you toss your phone in your bag, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes and settling back into the chair to drift off for a little bit.

a shadow casts over you, and you squint, looking up.

it’s a man. and he’s pretty.

you lean up, squinting. “can i help you?”

the man shrugs, moving out of the sun’s way and sitting on the chair next to you, the supports squealing under his weight. he was tall, muscles rippling underneath his skin; at least six feet with pretty braided black hair, wisps of it falling across the sides of his face. he’s wearing those translucent sunglasses, tinted orange as he leans over, wiggling his phone.

“didn’t think i’d meet one of my matches so soon.”

you gasp, looking through your phone. sure enough, there he was, looking exactly the same as he did before you. except in his photo, he’d had brilliant green eyes.

the same ones that held your gaze now, with nothing but kindness behind them.

“s-sorry,” you manage to stammer out, embarrassment flooding through your system. “i didn’t think i would either.”

he chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest as he leans back. “don’t worry ‘bout it. did ya mind if i kept ya company for a little while?”

there’s something about him that pulls you in. it could be his voice and its lilting tone; perhaps his eyes? or maybe even the way he’s holding the same beer you’re drinking right now, as you look down and notice there’s one extra missing.

you gasp again. “did you steal one of my beers?”

he answers with a shrug, a smirk tugging at his lips as he cracks the can. “maybe.”

you huff, rolling your eyes. “you’re a piece of work already. jesus, accosting me where i can’t say no to you, and then taking one of my beers? you’re ridiculous.”

he doesn’t respond, but instead chooses to smile again at you. “yeah, but i’m hot, so sometimes i can get away with about ninety percent of that.”

“don’t talk yourself up so much. it’s egotistical.”

he takes a sip, smacking his lips. “that may be, but i like t’ go after what i want quickly. i like opportunity, y’know? and ya seemed pretty bored out here, anyway.”

he’s right, you are bored. solo traveling has its perks, but people watching can only get you so far. you hum, bringing your own beer to your lips. the chill and carbonation make you feel a little less nervous with every moment that passes.

“what’s your name?”

“togame. jo togame. you?”

you tell him yours, and he smiles again.

“pretty name for a pretty thing like you.”

well, that was something else. having a man come on so strong to you wasn’t unknown to you, but it felt odd every time it happened. like you were unworthy of such praise and attraction due to, well, you.

he relaxes after that, simply basking in the sunshine next to you, asking questions about where you’re from and why you’re here. you don’t answer him honestly, of course; he seemed fine, but you can never be too careful. he doesn’t chase after more answers, seemingly satisfied with the short responses you’ve given him.

what a weird guy.

ironically, it had been a long, relaxing day with togame; contrary to popular belief, he was quite charming. and his slight ego interested you deeply, to the point where he’s stood and offered his hand to take you for a walk across the beach.

your legs are warm as you walk beside him. there’s a smile plastered on his face, soft with the edges of his lips slightly upturned, his eyes gentle behind his sunglasses.

“so, what’re ya really here for?”

“what do you mean?” you take a sip of your beer.

he shrugs, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back just a hair, his eyes sliding shut. “dunno. jus’ curious.”

you hum. “curious, huh?”

his hand scratches the back of his head. he looks embarrassed, his eyes darting to you and away, as if he’s scared of what he’s about to say.

“someone like you shouldn’t be alone.”

you can’t tell if it’s sunburn or blush that’s making your face feel hot and red, and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “unfortunately, many people don’t tend to agree with that statement.”

you avoid his gaze. you can feel it sizing you up, but it feels nice. it feels like he cares; a stranger, whose taken you on silly errands of his own within hours of knowing only his name. you’d taken a risk, you know that; you know what could have happened.

but it didn’t. somewhere, some solo traveler god has you in their thoughts. and they’d sent him, with braided black hair and pretty orange sunglasses that do nothing to hide the way he’s eyeing you.

instead, he takes your beer, ignoring your protests as he places it on one of the tables between deck chairs. the look he gives you after fills you with dread. you know what he’s about to do. every neighborhood boy had that same look at every pool party you’d been to, when things got a little too laidback.

“jo, don’t you dare—“

he completely ignores you, choosing instead to pick you up like you weighed nothing. your vision goes awry, the world rolling around in your line of sight as he walks into the water, ignoring the battering of your fists on his back.

then, the cold water hits you, saltiness stinging your tongue and your skin as you gasp, hitting the wet, sandy floor of the shallows with an oof.

after some spluttering, you wipe your face and glare at him from where he’s standing, a few feet off to the side with a horrific grin plastered across his face. he thought it was funny.

let’s see how funny he finds this.

you stand up, clothes sticking to your skin as you shake your head to get the water out. then, you lean down, arms in the water.

he looks at you. “oh, seriously?”

his tone is too teasing to be serious, so you smirk, letting loose a spray of water that slaps him all over, particularly in the face. he staggers, removing his sunglasses as he splutters away, spitting the sand and salt out of his mouth. giggles erupt from your chest as you hold your stomach. you haven’t laughed like this in a long time. a very, very long time.

you ignore the forlorn feeling present there. there’s no time to dwell on those thoughts right now.

you had something right in front of you that could take your mind off of it.

you both play around in the shallows for a long time. so long, that the sun begins to set on the horizon, setting the ocean ablaze in shades of red, yellow and orange. togame’s hand is in your own by then, his chest pressed skintight against your back. you’d slid between his legs on the bench, right between his thighs, making yourself comfortable. your beer is long gone, having been finished hours prior.

you fold your fingers between togame’s, resting your intertwined hands against his thigh. you don’t want to leave, but you know you should. not to mention, you could work up the courage to invite him in by the time you arrived at your hotel if you ask him to accompany you.

“walk me home?”

he nods. “thought ya’d never ask.”

divider credit: @/cafekitsune networks: @interstellar-inn @themovingcastlez

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