#but i actually hate it so im talking about it

[lnfours]

focal point ☆ chapter 5 | l.n

summary: oh damn, never seen that color blue…

warnings: art student!reader, best friend/college student!oscar, college student!lando, slight enemies to lovers!au, slight grumpy x sunshine, some more filler (IM SORRY ITS FOR THE PLOT!!!!!), fluff (EEKK!!!!), subtle foreshadowing, unedited as fuck, and hints at a strained family relationship (trauma!!)

message from jordan: hi everyone! long time no see, huh? 😅 i'm so sorry for being mia and for not updating this series in so long, i decided to take a small break from almost all socials. but don't worry, we're back and better than ever <3 as always, thank you for being so patient with me. i hope this chapter is worth the wait!! see you soon, for real this time :) - p.s i hope you enjoy that taylor swift reference in the summary, cause, iykyk 🙂‍↕️

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“hellloooo earth to oscar!”

it was no use. this was the third time he had unintentionally interrupted your conversation to respond to a text. all while doing so with a giddy smile, one you had never seen light up his face quite like this one did.

you had come over right after class, the two of you agreeing to hang out and catch up. it had been a while since it had just been the two of you hanging out, the inevitable busy schedules really hitting hard during your last semester. you missed your best friend.

missed meaning past tense. because although he was your best friend, right now, you wanted to snap his neck.

"oscar jack piastri!"

"oh- sorry," he mumbled the same apology for the third time this afternoon, "sorry, i was just texting someone. it's nothing, what were we talking about?"

you gave him a blank stare, "were you texting your secret girlfriend?"

you noticed the way his eyes widened a little upon mentioning the word ‘girlfriend’, "okay, one, she's not my girlfriend. and two, no. i was texting max."

and for the four years you've known oscar piastri, you could always tell when he was lying. and this time, he was lying right to your face.

you decided to play along with his game, letting him think he won this time. so you hummed, nodding your head, "okay, fine, if you say so."

"i'm sorry," he apologized again, locking his phone and placing it face down on the kitchen counter, "you have my full attention now, promise. what were you saying?"

"i was telling you about last week."

"right, with lando and the diner thing, right?" he asked and you hummed, taking a piece of popcorn from the bowl in between the two of you, "wait a minute, how'd you go from hating his guts and it being unbearable to be within 5 feet of him to 'oh my god he took me to breakfast'?"

"you know that party lily practically dragged me to?" when he nodded you spoke again, "apparently i really suck at beer pong and he helped me back to the apartment and helped lily take care of me. it was really sweet, actually."

he smiled softly before letting out a quiet snort, "sorry, just never thought i'd hear you say the words 'lando' and 'sweet' in the same sentence."

"i'm serious!" you sighed, pouting ever so slightly.

"no, i know!" he laughed softly, "it's just... you're just now finding out what i've been trying to tell you for the longest time? that he's actually a really good dude?"

you bit down on your lower lip softly, "i didn't really give him a chance, huh?"

"not really, no," he chuckled softly, "but it's okay. he didn't exactly help out his own case either, in all honesty."

you nodded in agreement, the front door to the apartment creaking open. you both turned to see lando kicking off his shoes, placing his keys on the hook by the door.

he smiled at you and oscar, "hey,"

"hey," oscar smiled, answering for you as well as you took in his appearance. messy curls, tight black t-shirt, grey sweatpants, duffel bag on his shoulder and a soft glow on his skin, you could tell he had just gotten back from the gym.

arms. biceps. veins. god, you should probably speak before you embarrass yourself...

it was too late though, he had already seen the way your eyes traveled over his body. he decided to put the mental note in the back of his mind for now, instead checking the watch on his wrist.

"oh shit, i didn't mean to keep you waiting, y/n."

you tapped your phone screen, looking at the time. it was 4:35, just five minutes passed when you said you'd meet up. it really wasn't a big deal. you didn't even know it had gotten that late already.

"no, no, it's fine. didn't even notice, if i'm honest," you smiled and he sent you a smile back. oscar watched the two of you like a tennis match, cheekily grinning at the counter.

"i have some of those papers you had me work on the other day, they're in my room if you wanna..."

"oh- yeah! yeah, sure," you smiled, grabbing your things as oscar silently laughed at the way you acted around his roommate. how you were unintentionally tripping and stumbling over your own feet and your words, how lovestruck you became.

you followed lando to his room, placing your things down and taking a seat on the edge of his bed as he looked through his closet for a change of clothes, "i'm just gonna shower real quick, make yourself at home, though."

you smiled, nodding his way as he closed the door behind him. after all this time, you had never thought you'd see the other side of this door. his room was slightly messy, due to his busy schedule and his active lifestyle. posters of cars and, seemingly, his favorite video games hanging on the walls. the bookshelf that sat in the corner of the room was littered with different textbooks at the bottom and little die cast models of his favorite cars, along with a few formula one cars that you had recognized. the top shelf stood out the most to you, though.

a picture frame of him and who you had assumed to be his family. a family photo taken during christmas, all of them dressed in matching pajamas. a big happy family.

the photo, for whatever reason, brought tears to your eyes. a smile on your face as you sniffled quietly, putting the photo frame back down on it's designated shelf.

the door opened, causing you to turn around as he closed the door behind him, "sorry, i figured you'd prefer if i didn't smell like a guy's locker-room."

you laughed softly, wiping away the small tear that came from your eye, "god, yeah,"

"hey," he said, sitting down on the bed beside you, immediately disregarding the notebook he was grabbing beforehand, "what's wrong? you okay?"

you nodded, waving a hand dismissively, "yeah, yeah, i'm fine. i just- for whatever reason, when i looked at that picture of you and your family it just uhm..."

he patiently waited for you to finish your sentence, "it just brought back some feelings that i wish it hadn't, that's all."

"fuck, i'm so sorry," he said.

"no, no," you shook your head, "you don't have to apologize, if anything i should be the one who's apologizing."

"you don't have to apologize for having emotions."

you smiled softly, feeling another tear fall from the corner of your eye. this time, he gently brought his hand up to your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he wiped it away.

the action made you breathless, as if the way he was looking into your eyes hadn't already. a mysterious color you couldn't quite put your finger on. it was a mix between blue, green and grey.

whatever it was, it was gorgeous and captivating at the same time.

you cleared your throat, the two of you moving away from the gap that had slowly been closing. your fingers untwisting themselves from his, you growing flushed at the fact that you had, at some point, interlocked your fingers with his unknowingly.

"sorry," you mumbled softly.

"'m sorry," he said at the same time. you both shared a soft and awkward chuckle before he grabbed his notebook from behind him.

"so, i had a few questions about chapter 15."

"go on," you said, studying his side profile as he explained the areas he was having trouble with. pretty tanned skin littered with freckles and moles, curls that perfectly kissed the skin on the back of his neck and his forehead.

the sentence lily had said to you last week repeating itself into your brain:

“...and it’s not like i don’t see the way he looks at you. he definitely is feeling something he doesn’t want to show just yet,”

oh, fuck.

[erix-detergentt]

bleh doing a reblog-addon instead of tag-talk cuz the tag-talk seems too lenghy to me. even though i said basically nothing. WHATEVER

scout kinnie (eugh) at heart but in reality an unstoppable member of the w+m1 army (pyro having almost double the hour count on scout. which is fuckin. wow). so the top 3 list being pyro - scout - med.

(im not actually playing it nowadays cuz ive been into other stuff; but during last year ive mostly been learning to play heavy. so maybe in a year or so he could overtake med's place lol)

i guess the reasoning for me maining pyro is that ive been a controller gamer when growing up so my aim is shit (PYRO MAIN = BAD AIM JOKE!! LAUGH!!!) and as i hate going slow (contrary to me now trying heavy) pyro gives me speed without forcing me learn to aim better. basically scout lite (tm). or scout plus (tm) because pyro got more health and i dont instantly die like a mosquito from a light tap from solly's whip. but then again my most played classes after are scout and med so i guess my aim is not THAT bad. much to think about *thinking emoji*

Remade because I forgot to extend the poll to 1 week lol

Feel free to add context in replies/tags!

I'm nosy and want to know your hours and reasons!

[cherryxbooo]

Helloooo hehe 🍒

Could you write a pedri fic where perdito and reader are both in college but he’s the popular kind and reader is quiet and almost invisible.

How at first she doesn’t wanna get involved but slowly warms up to him and start dating and her getting welcomed by his family.

Make it angst to fluff like real angst tho.

Whether you write this or not im grateful 💚

You make sense to me

Summary: Being introverted and choosing the background over the spotlight is already hard enough, let alone when the popular guy suddenly takes an interest in you.

Note: Thank you so much for your request! I decided to switch it up a bit and go from fluff to angst and obviously ending in fluff. Hope you like it! 🫶

Reader x Pedri

Genre: fluff/angst

University is a strange place.

It’s a world where people reinvent themselves, the loud get louder, and the quiet, like me, learn to live in the spaces between.

That’s how I’ve survived my first year at university, blending into the background.

I’m not a recluse, but I keep to myself.

I study, I go to class, I read in the corner of the library, and I go home.

No unnecessary interactions. No unnecessary attention.

That is, until he noticed me.

Pedri.

Everyone in our uni knows who he is. He’s that guy, the one with effortless charm, always surrounded by people.

Popular, not just because he’s good at football, but because he’s him. He moves through life with a kind of ease I can’t even imagine.

And yet, for some reason, he keeps looking at me.

I don’t get it. I don’t know what he sees.

At first, I ignore it. I convince myself I’m imagining things. But then, it happens again.

And again.

Until one day, he does more than just look.

It started off small.

"Hey," a voice says, casual but confident.

My highlighter sits on the page.

A thick streak of neon yellow bleeds over a sentence I was trying to mark, but my brain suddenly forgets how to function because someone is talking to me.

Slowly, very slowly, I turn my head.

He’s already sitting beside me, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

A dark hoodie, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a grin that’s just a little too amused.

His presence feels loud, even though he’s not making any actual noise.

My first instinct? Escape.

My second? Stare.

I do both in rapid succession, my eyes flicking toward the exit, then warily back at him, as if assessing how much of a threat he poses.

He doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does, and just doesn’t care.

"...Hi?" I say, but it comes out more like a question than a greeting.

His grin widens, like this is completely normal.

Like we talk all the time.

“You’re in my psychology class, right?”

I blink at him. That’s what this is about?

I nod once, not trusting my voice, because I don’t know why he’s here, or what he wants, and I hate not knowing things.

He leans back in his chair, completely at ease.

His dark eyes scan the open book in front of me, then flick back up to my face.

“You’re quiet.”

I exhale slowly through my nose. No shit.

I don’t reply.

I just wait. People like him, people who talk first and think later, usually get bored when they don’t get the response they want.

Any second now, he’ll lose interest. Any second now—

"Like, really quiet," he continues, undeterred.

His chin rests on his palm, elbow propped on the table, as if he’s studying me.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a full sentence.”

I resist the urge to sigh. Or groan. Or bang my head against the table.

Instead, I press my lips together and attempt to salvage my poor, over-highlighted page.

"Maybe because I don’t have anything to say."

He chuckles, low and warm, like I’ve just told some inside joke we both share.

Except we don’t.

“I don’t buy that,” he says.

I glance at him again, this time with actual irritation.

"Why do you care?"

His shoulders lift in an easy shrug, like he hasn’t even considered the question before.

“I don’t know. You’re interesting.”

I actually laugh. A small, startled sound that slips out before I can stop it.

Not because he’s right, but because that has to be the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.

"I’m not interesting," I say, shaking my head.

"You just don’t know me well enough to be bored yet."

His smirk deepens. "See? That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile."

I roll my eyes and refocus on my book.

"Congratulations. You’ve unlocked a new achievement."

He leans forward slightly, like I’ve just confirmed something for him. "So you can be sarcastic. Good to know."

I bite back another sigh. He’s not leaving. He’s settling in.

For a moment, I consider my options.

I could:

A) Ignore him until he gets the hint. B) Pack up my stuff and relocate to another part of the library. C) Say something so cold and blunt that he’ll regret ever sitting here.

I’m still debating when he speaks again.

"You always sit here," he muses.

I glance at him. "What?"

"In the library. Right here. This exact table." He tilts his head, thinking.

"You come in, you pull out your books, you highlight the hell out of your pages, and you don’t talk to anyone."

I stare at him, my pulse kicking up a notch.

"Have you been watching me?"

He shrugs, completely unapologetic. "More like... noticing."

"That’s the same thing."

"Not really," he counters, that lazy smirk still in place.

"Watching is weird. Noticing is just, paying attention."

I frown, my grip tightening on my highlighter.

"Why are you paying attention to me?"

He tilts his head, considering. "I don’t know. Maybe I like mysteries."

I scoff. "I’m not a mystery."

"Debatable."

I shake my head and focus very intently on my book.

But the problem is, I can still feel him there, his gaze lingering, his presence impossible to ignore.

And for the first time in forever, I feel seen.

I hate it.

Pedri doesn’t leave me alone after that.

At first, I tell myself it’s a coincidence.

A fluke.

That first conversation in the library? A one-time thing.

A moment of fleeting curiosity on his part.

But then it happens again. And again. And again.

It starts small.

A casual wave when he spots me across campus.

At first, I ignore it, assuming he’s greeting someone behind me.

But when I glance over my shoulder and see no one there, I realize, he’s waving at me.

I don’t wave back.

But that doesn’t stop him.

The next time, he adds a grin to it. The time after that, he calls my name, loud enough that people turn to look.

(Which, obviously, mortifies me.)

Then, there’s class.

He used to sit on the other side of the room.

I know this because I used to specifically sit where I wouldn’t have to be around too many people.

But one day, Pedri is suddenly there, dropping into the seat next to me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like he’s always been there.

I glance at him, suspicious. He just shrugs, pulling out his notebook.

"Better view from here."

I don’t buy that for a second, but I also don’t argue.

And then there are the conversations.

Or, more accurately, the ones he forces me into.

"So, what’s your verdict on our professor? Secretly a vampire, or just really hates sunlight?"

"If you had to survive on only one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? And if you say something boring like ‘salad,’ I might actually cry."

"I bet you secretly have a list of people you’d commit crimes for. I respect it."

Some days, I ignore him completely.

Other days, his persistence wears me down, and I give in with a sigh.

"Pasta," I mumble one afternoon.

He blinks. "Huh?"

"If I had to survive on one food. Pasta."

His entire face lights up like I’ve just gifted him something.

"Yes! Solid answer. Now, important follow-up question: are we talking plain pasta, or are you a sauce person?"

I sigh again, but this time, it’s less annoying. Maybe even a little amused.

Just a little.

And that’s how it starts.

I don’t even realize it’s happening at first.

How, little by little, I stop avoiding him.

How my replies stretch from one-word answers to full sentences.

How my body relaxes when he shows up, instead of tensing like I used to.

How I catch myself looking for him in class before he even arrives.

I try to convince myself that it means nothing.

That it’s just habit. That he’s just there, and I’ve gotten used to it.

But habits don’t make my heart skip when I see him across the quad.

Habits don’t make me bite back a smile when he says something stupid.

Habits don’t make my chest ache in ways I don’t know how to handle.

And somehow—without me fully understanding how or when or why, we become friends.

Or something dangerously close to it.

And it terrifies me.

Because Pedri is warmth, and I am used to distance.

Because he is effortless, and I have spent my whole life trying to be untouchable.

Because the more time I spend with him, the more I feel.

And feelings?

Feelings are dangerous.

Then it started with an invitation,

A casual one. Like it’s no big deal.

"Hey, wanna grab lunch with me?"

I glance up from my book, blinking at Pedri like he just asked me to rob a bank with him.

"What?"

"Lunch," he repeats, standing beside my table with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.

"You know, that thing people eat in the middle of the day?"

I roll my eyes. "I know what lunch is."

"Great. Then let’s go." He gestures toward the door like this is already decided.

I hesitate. "Why?"

"Because we both have to eat, and food is better with company," he says simply.

"And don’t say you weren’t planning to eat, because that would be tragic."

I chew on my bottom lip, searching for an excuse, any excuse, but nothing comes to mind.

Pedri doesn’t give me time to think too hard about it.

He reaches for my bag, lifting it from the table before I can protest.

"Come on," he says, grinning. "I promise not to bite."

I sigh, knowing I’ve already lost.

"Fine," I mumble. "But if this place is loud and crowded, I’m leaving."

He smirks. "Noted."

The restaurant he takes me to is small and tucked away, a quiet little place that somehow doesn’t feel overwhelming.

It’s warm inside, the air rich with the scent of fresh bread and spices.

There’s soft music playing in the background, and to my relief, no overwhelming crowd.

"See?" Pedri says as we step in. "Not too bad, right?"

I nod slowly. "It’s... nice."

He grins, clearly pleased with himself. "Told you I’d pick a good place."

We find a booth by the window, and for the first time, I feel oddly at ease.

We order our food, and somehow, Pedri keeps me engaged in conversation the entire time.

It’s easy. Effortless.

He talks about everything, his classes, his teammates, a hilarious story about how he once fell asleep in the middle of a Zoom lecture and got called out for it.

I laugh before I can stop myself.

He looks ridiculously proud of this accomplishment.

"You like my suffering," he accuses, eyes gleaming.

"I’m just impressed by your ability to sleep through an entire class," I tease.

Pedri gasps dramatically. "So she can joke. This is a breakthrough moment."

I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling.

We eat slowly, the conversation flowing without effort.

And it’s nice. Too nice.

Because for the first time in a long time, I feel something dangerously close to happy.

After lunch, Pedri suggests a walk.

I should say no. I should go back to my dorm, back to my safe space.

But instead, I find myself walking beside him, our steps slow and unhurried.

The campus is quieter now, the afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the trees. It feels peaceful.

We eventually find an empty bench near the park and sit down.

I exhale, tilting my head back slightly to feel the breeze on my skin.

Pedri watches me for a moment before speaking.

"You don’t let a lot of people in, do you?"

I glance at him. "That obvious?"

He shrugs. "I just notice things."

A beat of silence. Then—

"Why?" he asks softly.

I chew on the inside of my cheek. I don’t usually talk about this. I don’t talk about myself at all.

But with Pedri, it feels... safe.

"I like peace," I admit finally. "I like being quiet. Being unnoticed. It’s easier."

Pedri stays silent, waiting. Letting me talk.

I take a breath.

"People... they take up space. They expect things. They need things. And I—" I pause, searching for the right words.

"I don’t know how to be what people need. So I just don’t try. So I won't end up getting hurt."

Pedri listens carefully, nodding like he understands.

I look down at my hands.

"I spent so long blending into the background that I guess I forgot how to be anything else."

Pedri exhales softly. When he speaks, his voice is gentle.

"I get that," he says.

I glance at him, surprised.

He leans back against the bench, gazing up at the sky.

"You know, people always assume I like attention just because I’m popular. Because I’m always around people, always talking."

I nod slightly. He’s right. I did assume that.

"But the truth is," he continues, "I don’t care about any of that."

I frown. "Then why—"

"Why you?" He turns his head to look at me. "Why did I notice you?"

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry.

Pedri smiles, but it’s softer this time. "Because you’re real."

I blink. "What?"

"Everyone else is so... loud," he says.

"Always trying to be something, trying to impress, trying to fit into whatever image they think they need to be."

He shifts slightly, his knee brushing against mine.

"But you? You’re just you," he murmurs. "And that’s rare."

My heart does something weird in my chest. I don’t like it.

Pedri studies my face for a moment, then sighs.

"Look, I know you like being on your own. I know you don’t trust people easily. And I get that. But..." He hesitates, then turns fully toward me.

"Give me a chance," he says.

I inhale sharply. "Pedri—"

"Just a chance," he insists.

"Let me prove to you that I’m not like everyone else. That I don’t just want something from you."

I bite my lip, staring at the ground.

"You scare me," I whisper.

He blinks. "Me?"

I nod. "Not in a bad way. Just... you make me feel things. And I don’t know how to handle that."

Pedri’s gaze softens, and he reaches out, hesitating for a second before lightly brushing his fingers against mine.

"You don’t have to handle it alone," he says gently.

"Let me in. Just a little."

I look at our hands, barely touching, then back at him.

His expression is so open, so earnest, that something in me cracks just a little.

Maybe just a little wouldn’t be so bad.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

I take a deep breath. Then, slowly, hesitantly, I nod.

Pedri smiles, squeezing my fingers lightly before pulling away, giving me space.

And for the first time, it doesn’t feel terrifying.

It happens gradually.

One moment, he’s just there, the way he always is, persistent, warm, impossible to ignore.

The next, he’s everywhere.

And suddenly, Pedri is mine.

Which is strange...

If you would've told me I would end up with the most popular guy of my uni, I would've straight up laughed in your face.

But, here we're... I guess.

It’s funny how quickly I get used to him.

To his presence, his warmth, the way he seamlessly fits into my life like he’s always been there.

And maybe it should scare me.

Maybe I should keep my distance, hold onto the walls I spent so long building.

But with Pedri, distance feels... impossible.

Because he refuses to be anything less than close.

It doesn’t take long for people to notice.

Because Pedri isn’t subtle. At all.

If anything, he seems to take genuine delight in shocking people.

Like the time we’re walking across campus, and he suddenly grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

I freeze.

"Pedri—" I start, eyes darting around, but he just squeezes my hand.

"Relax," he murmurs, glancing down at me with a small smile.

"It’s just me."

I exhale slowly. It’s just him.

I tell myself to pull away, but I don’t.

And then I really regret it when I hear a group of students whispering nearby.

"Wait—are they holding hands?"

"No way. Pedri and y/n?"

"How did that even happen?"

I feel my entire face heat up, but Pedri? He doesn’t care at all.

If anything, he likes it.

Because the next day, when we’re sitting together in class, he casually reaches over and plays with my fingers under the desk.

Like it’s a habit.

Like he just wants to touch me.

"Pedri," I hiss quietly, trying to pull my hand away.

He smirks but tightens his grip. "You’re cute when you’re flustered."

I glare at him. "You’re annoying."

"And yet," he hums, "you still let me hold your hand."

Damn it.

Outside of school, it’s even worse.

Because Pedri doesn’t just want to see me in class, he wants to see me all the time.

"Are you free later?" he asks one afternoon.

I glance up from my notes. "Why?"

"Because I wanna see you," he says easily.

I blink. "You see me every day."

He grins. "Yeah, and?"

I sigh but don’t argue. Because, honestly?

I want to see him too.

Some nights, he comes over with zero warning.

Like when I’m sitting on my bed, fully prepared to spend my evening reading, and suddenly—

Knock, knock.

I groan, already knowing who it is.

When I open the door, Pedri is standing there with two cups of hot chocolate and a ridiculously pleased expression.

"You didn’t text me," I say, raising an eyebrow.

"Didn’t think I needed to," he says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

I sigh. "What if I was busy?"

He flops onto my bed, looking completely at home. "Then I’d just sit here and wait for you to be un-busy."

I shake my head, but my lips twitch. I hate how much I like this.

One day, we’re supposed to grab lunch, but it starts pouring out of nowhere.

Pedri and I sprint across campus, completely drenched by the time we duck into the nearest café.

I groan, wringing out my hoodie. "Well, this sucks."

Pedri grins, shaking water from his hair like a golden retriever.

"Nah. I kinda like it."

"You like being soaked?" I deadpan.

"No," he chuckles. "I like that it means I get to stay here with you longer."

And damn it, he means it.

I shake my head, trying to ignore the way my heart clenches.

We sit by the window, watching the rain while sharing a plate of fries.

Pedri drapes his hoodie over my shoulders because I’m still shivering, and when I glance at him, he just shrugs.

"What’s mine is yours, princesa."

I roll my eyes, but the warmth in my chest doesn’t go away.

One night, we’re lying on my bed, facing each other in the soft glow of my bedside lamp.

It’s quiet, comfortable.

Pedri reaches out, tracing lazy patterns on my wrist.

"You ever think about what would’ve happened if I never sat next to you that day?" he murmurs.

I blink. "What?"

"In the library," he says. "If I never sat down. If I never talked to you or approached you. What do you think would’ve happened?"

I think about it for a second. "I guess... nothing."

Pedri frowns slightly.

"You wouldn’t have noticed me," I explain. "And I would’ve kept living my life the way I always have."

His grip on my wrist tightens slightly. "That’s a terrible answer."

I laugh softly. "It’s the truth."

"Well, I hate it," he says.

I tilt my head. "Why?"

Pedri exhales.

"Because I can’t imagine my life without you now," he murmurs. "And I don’t want to."

My breath catches.

He’s staring at me with so much emotion, like I’m the most important thing in his universe.

"I meant what I said," he continues softly.

"I don’t care that you’re quiet. I don’t care that you like being in the background. I don’t care that people think we don’t make sense."

His fingers brush against my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You make sense to me," he whispers.

I don’t know what to say.

Pedri smiles slightly like he can hear all the things I’m too scared to say.

"You don’t have to say anything," he murmurs.

"Just, promise me you won’t push me away."

I swallow. "Pedri..."

"Please," he breathes. "Just let me love you."

My chest tightens, the weight of his words settling deep inside me.

But instead of answering, I reach for him, fingers threading through his hair as I pull him closer.

His lips meet mine, slow, soft, certain, and in that moment, I know.

I know that Pedri is different.

I know that I’ve already fallen for him.

And for the first time in a long time,

I don’t want to run.

It’s a normal day at school.

Or at least, it should be.

Except nothing is ever normal when you’re dating Pedri.

We’re sitting outside on one of the campus benches, a rare moment of peace in between classes.

I’m trying to eat my lunch, but Pedri, ever the distraction, is making that very difficult.

"You’re not even paying attention to me," he pouts, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Because I’m eating," I say, taking another bite of my sandwich.

"But I’m right here."

"And?"

"And I require attention."

I roll my eyes, but I can’t hide my smile.

Pedri grins, clearly pleased with himself.

He reaches up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, then lets his fingers trail down my arm before entwining our hands together.

"Better," he hums, like this was the missing piece of his day.

I shake my head but squeeze his hand anyway.

For a moment, it’s quiet, and comfortable, like it always is with him.

And then he drops a bombshell.

"So, I was thinking... you should come to my parents’ house this weekend."

I nearly choke on my drink. "Wait—what?"

"To my parents’ house," he repeats easily as if he’s asking me to grab a coffee, not meet his entire family.

"For dinner. Just something casual."

Casual?

Meeting his parents is casual?!

My brain short-circuits.

"Pedri, I—" I pause, exhaling. "That’s... a big step."

He tilts his head, studying me. "Is it?"

"Yes," I say, nodding vigorously.

"I mean, it’s your family. What if they don’t like me?"

Pedri immediately frowns, turning his entire body towards me.

"First of all, there’s literally no way they won’t like you."

I bite my lip, looking down at my hands. "You don’t know that."

"Yes, I do," he says firmly.

"You’re smart, and kind, and funny, and—" He pauses, squeezing my hand.

"And you make me happy. That’s all they need to know."

I feel my heart clench.

Damn him. Damn him and his words that make me weak.

I hesitate for a few more seconds before exhaling. "Okay... I’ll go."

His face lights up, and suddenly, I know I made the right choice.

"Good," he says smugly.

"Because if you said no, I was gonna beg."

I snort. "I would’ve made you suffer a little first."

"That’s mean."

"That’s justice."

Pedri grins, tugging me closer. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

That weekend, I stood in front of my mirror, stressing out.

What do you wear to meet your boyfriend’s parents?

I don’t want to be too formal and look like I’m trying too hard, but I also don’t want to look like I just threw on the first thing I found.

After way too much debating, I settle on something simple yet cute, just enough effort to look put-together.

And right on cue, my phone buzzes.

Pedri: I’m outside <3

I grab my bag, take a deep breath, and head out.

As soon as I open the door, I see him leaning against his car, arms crossed, a lazy grin spreading across his face the moment he sees me.

"Wow," he whistles, giving me an obvious once-over.

I shift on my feet, suddenly self-conscious. "What?"

"You look—" He pauses, stepping closer. "Beautiful."

My face heats up. "Shut up."

"I’m serious," he murmurs, eyes shining.

"My mom’s gonna love you even more now."

I roll my eyes but smile as he opens the car door for me.

As we drive, I feel the nerves creeping in again.

My hands rest stiffly on my lap, and I stare out the window, chewing on my lip.

Pedri notices immediately.

Without a word, he reaches over and takes my hand, intertwining our fingers.

"Breathe, princesa," he murmurs.

I exhale shakily. "I just don’t want to mess this up."

"You won’t."

"How do you know?"

Pedri lifts our joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.

"Because you’re you," he says simply.

And just like that, some of the nerves fade.

As soon as we arrive, Pedri barely has time to knock before the door swings open, revealing his mother.

"Hola, cariño!" she exclaims, pulling Pedri into a tight hug, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

He laughs, hugging her back. "Hola, mamá."

Then, her eyes land on me.

And suddenly, I forget how to breathe.

"And this must be y/n, the girl I’ve heard so much about," she says warmly, her gaze kind and curious.

I hesitate for a moment before stepping forward, offering a polite smile. "Hi, it’s really nice to meet you."

To my surprise, her face softens even more before she pulls me into a gentle hug.

"Oh, you’re adorable," she murmurs before pulling away.

"Come in, come in."

As we step inside, I glance at Pedri, who is smirking at me like he knew this would happen.

He leans down, whispering, "Told you she’d love you."

I glare at him, nudging him with my elbow, but the warmth in my chest doesn’t fade.

The house is warm and inviting, decorated with framed pictures of Pedri and his family.

Some are from his childhood, others more recent, like his love for football evident in every corner.

I take a moment to glance at one of the shelves, where several of his trophies and awards sit proudly.

"You’re staring, princesa," Pedri teases, nudging my shoulder.

"It’s just weird seeing your entire life displayed like this," I murmur.

Before he can reply, a deep voice cuts through the room.

"So this is the famous girl?"

I turn to see Fernando, Pedri’s older brother, leaning against the doorway with an amused expression.

"The one and only," Pedri says smugly, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

I shoot him a look but manage a polite smile. "It’s nice to meet you."

Fernando nods, eyeing Pedri. "Well, I have to say, I’m impressed. I thought you were just making her up."

I snort, while Pedri glares. "I hate you."

"Love you too, hermano."

His mother shakes her head, laughing. "Boys, enough. Let’s eat."

Dinner is incredible, and not just the food (which is honestly some of the best I’ve ever had).

Pedri’s mom made a full spread, and every bite tastes like it was cooked with love.

"This is amazing," I say, genuinely in awe.

His mom beams. "Thank you, cariño. Eat as much as you want."

"Careful," Fernando jokes. "She’ll try to adopt you if you say that too many times."

Pedri smirks. "Too late. She’s already mine."

I nearly choke on my drink.

His mother laughs while Fernando groans.

"God, you’re embarrassing."

Pedri shrugs, completely unfazed, squeezing my knee under the table.

Throughout the meal, his parents ask me questions, not in an overwhelming way, but enough to show that they’re genuinely interested in getting to know me.

His dad is quieter but still warm, occasionally chiming in with a question or a story about Pedri as a kid.

"Did he tell you he used to cry when he lost board games?" his dad asks, smirking.

I light up. "No, but I love that."

Pedri groans, slumping in his chair. "Why are we exposing me?"

"Because it’s fun," Fernando says, grinning.

I giggle, and Pedri shoots me a betrayed look.

"You’re supposed to be on my side," he mutters.

"I am," I say sweetly. "Just... not right now."

After dinner, I insist on helping with the dishes.

"Oh, no, cariño, you’re a guest," his mother says, waving me off.

"Please," I say, offering a small smile. "I want to help."

She eyes me for a moment before nodding. "Alright. But only because you asked so nicely."

As we stand by the sink, washing plates, she suddenly speaks up.

"You know," she starts, her tone thoughtful, "I wasn’t a fan of the other girls Pedri has dated."

I blink, glancing at her. "Oh?"

She nods, rinsing a dish.

"They only wanted him for his name and popularity. But you... you seem different."

I swallow. "I just like him for who he is."

She smiles softly. "I know. And that’s why I like you."

Something warm blooms in my chest.

"You’re good for him," she continues.

"He’s always been surrounded by people who want something from him. But with you? I see the way he looks at you, the way he talks about you."

She pauses, drying her hands before turning to face me.

"I can tell you care about him."

I nod, my throat feeling tight. "I do. A lot."

She smiles, patting my hand. "Then that’s all I need to know."

As we drive back, Pedri is grinning like an idiot.

"That went amazing," he says, eyes flickering to me.

"It did," I admit.

"See? You worried for nothing."

I sigh. "Yeah, yeah. You were right."

He gasps dramatically. "Wait, say that again?"

"I will never repeat it."

He laughs, reaching over to squeeze my thigh. "I’m proud of you, princesa."

I glance at him. "Why?"

"Because I know this wasn’t easy for you," he says softly.

"But you did it. And my mom loves you. My dad and Fernando too."

I bite my lip. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he murmurs. "But more importantly, I love you."

My heart stops.

Pedri, realizing what he just said, suddenly tenses.

"Wait—" His eyes widen. "I mean—"

I laugh softly. "It’s okay, Pedri."

He swallows. "I just... I love you, okay? And I don’t care if that scares you. I’m not going anywhere."

I look at him, really look at him, and feel something inside me settle.

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I reach over, lacing my fingers with his.

"Drive, Pedri," I whisper.

He exhales, squeezing my hand. "I’ll wait for you, princesa. However long it takes."

And as we head home, I realize—

I don’t think it’ll take very long at all.

It was another boring uni day. A day full of back-to-back classes.

I’m in the library, stacking my books neatly into my arms, already mentally preparing for my next class.

My mind is quiet, calm, focused on anything but him.

Pedri had texted me this morning, telling me he had early practice and would see me later.

"Have a good day, princesa ❤️ Miss you."

I had smiled when I read it.

I shouldn’t have.

I adjust my grip on the books and turn toward the exit. Then I hear it.

Laughter. Loud voices.

At first, I don’t think anything of it. Until I hear my name.

I stop. My heart stutters.

I tell myself it’s nothing, that maybe I misheard, that maybe it’s just some random conversation.

But then a voice cuts through the noise, A voice I know better than anyone else’s.

His voice.

Pedri.

My stomach twists, my fingers tightening around the books as I take a cautious step forward.

The voices are coming from the hallway just ahead, around the corner.

I shouldn’t listen. I shouldn’t. But I do.

"Bro, you’re actually still with her?" one of his friends cackles.

"I swear I thought this was just a bet or some shit."

Pedri laughs.

That’s the first stab.

"Nah, man. No bet."

"Then what the fuck is it?" someone else scoffs. "There’s no way you’re actually into her."

Pedri lets out a low chuckle. "Come on, man. You really think I’d go for a girl like that?"

A girl like that.

"Exactly," another voice chimes in.

"She’s fucking boring, bro. Always sitting in the back, never talking, just reading like she’s in some old-ass novel or something. You could have literally anyone, why waste time on her?"

"It’s not like that," Pedri says easily. "She’s just… convenient."

The air leaves my lungs.

"Convenient?" one of his friends laughs. "What, like a little charity case?"

Pedri doesn’t deny it.

He fucking laughs.

"Nah, it’s just easy, you know?" he shrugs.

"She doesn’t ask for much. Doesn’t complain. Doesn’t make a big deal out of shit. I don’t have to try too hard."

"So you’re with her because she’s easy?"

Pedri snickers.

"More like… low maintenance. She’s quiet, doesn’t bother me when I’m busy, doesn’t start drama. It’s just chill. I don’t have to worry about her blowing up my phone or expecting too much."

I feel sick.

"Damn, so you’re basically keeping her around for convenience?"

"I mean, yeah," Pedri mutters. "She’s just... there. It’s not that deep."

The laughter erupts around him.

I think I might throw up.

"Fucking knew it," one of them howls. "You had us thinking you were actually in love with her or some shit."

Pedri laughs harder.

"Come on, man. You really think I’d fall for her?"

My heart shatters.

I can’t listen anymore. I can’t.

The pain is too much, the walls around me caving in, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

I need to get out of here.

I don’t know how long I stand there.

Seconds? Minutes?

Everything is a blur.

Their laughter rings in my ears, mocking me, haunting me.

Tears burn at the back of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.

I won’t let them have that power over me. My body moves on its own. One step.

Then another.

Then I’m walking away.

I don’t care where I’m going.

I just need to get the hell out of there.

I don’t go to my next class. I don’t care about my next class. I walk. Fast.

Away from the library, away from the voices, away from the truth clawing at my chest.

I feel numb.

Like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and I’m just walking around with a hollow, empty space inside me.

My phone vibrates in my pocket.

I don’t check it. I don’t need to. It’s him. It has to be. I ignore it.

I ignore the ache in my chest, the sting behind my eyes, the lump in my throat that makes it hard to breathe.

I just keep walking.

By the time I finally return to my dorm, the sky is a deep shade of blue, the sun barely peeking over the horizon.

I close the door behind me, my body exhausted, drained.

And then there’s a knock. I hesitate, my pulse spiking.

I already know who it is.

I take a slow, shaky breath, gripping the door handle before pulling it open.

Pedri stands there.

His brows are furrowed, concern laced into every inch of his face.

"What the hell, Y/N?" he asks immediately. "Why haven’t you been answering me all day?"

I stare at him.

He looks so… confused. Like he has no idea what he did.

That makes me angrier.

"Go away, Pedri."

His eyes widen slightly. "What? No. What’s going on? Did something happen?"

I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you ask your friends?"

He freezes. And I see it.

I see the exact moment realization hits.

His lips part slightly, but no words come out.

"Yeah," I say, voice shaking. "I heard you. I heard everything."

"Princesa—"

"Don’t." I take a step back. "Just don’t."

His jaw clenches. "I didn’t mean it."

I laugh again, but it hurts.

"Right," I nod. "Because saying I’m just some joke? Saying you’re pretending to like me? That just… accidentally came out of your mouth?"

"It’s not like that," he says quickly, stepping forward. "Please, Y/n. Just let me explain."

"Explain what?" I snap. "That I’m just some quiet, boring idiot who actually believed you cared about me?"

He flinches.

"That’s not true," he says, his voice softer now.

"It doesn’t matter," I whisper.

"It does."

"No, Pedri. It really doesn’t."

I exhale shakily, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze one last time.

"I can’t do this anymore."

His breath catches. "What?"

"We’re done."

I step back, my hands shaking as I close the door in his face.

For a few seconds, I don’t move.

I don’t breathe.

And then I hear it—

A soft, desperate whisper from the other side of the door.

"Please don’t leave me."

Tears stream down my face.

But I don’t open the door.

And I don’t look back.

The days blur together, a mess of sleepless nights and suffocating thoughts.

I barely eat, barely leave my dorm, barely exist outside of my own mind.

Every time I close my eyes, I hear his voice.

Every time I let my thoughts wander, I remember the way his words sliced through me like a blade.

My phone buzzes constantly, but I ignore it.

At first, I let it ring, let the messages pile up, let his name flash across my screen like a cruel reminder of what happened.

But he doesn’t stop.

"Y/n, please." "At least talk to me." "I need to explain." "I miss you."

Every day, every hour, his messages come in, desperate and persistent.

And every time, I stare at them with tears burning in my eyes, fingers hovering over the screen before I lock my phone and shove it under my pillow.

Then, after a few days, I finally block him.

I expect that to be the end of it.

But Pedri doesn’t give up so easily.

It starts with soft knocks on my door, hesitant at first, then firmer when I don’t answer.+

I stay curled up in bed, biting my lip to keep from crying out in frustration.

Then, when I wake up one morning and open my door, I see flowers.

A bouquet of my favorite ones, left neatly against the doorframe.

The first time, I hesitate.

The second time, I stare at them for a long time before stepping over them.

The third time, I pick them up, hold them in my hands for a moment, and then drop them in the trash.

And yet, the next day, there’s another bouquet.

Every single day, without fail, there’s a new one waiting for me. And every time, I feel my resolve cracking a little bit more.

But I’m not ready.

I don’t even know if I ever will be.

One week later, I finally force myself to go back to school.

I can’t hide forever.

I tell myself I’ve had time to heal, that I’ve built up enough strength to walk these halls without feeling like I’m suffocating under the weight of my own emotions.

That I can handle seeing him again.

But the second I step onto campus, my chest tightens, and my heart pounds against my ribcage like it’s trying to escape.

I keep my head down, moving quickly, avoiding eye contact, avoiding him.

But I can feel it. His presence. His eyes.

I know he’s seen me. I don’t look.

I don’t want to see the desperation in his expression, don’t want to acknowledge the way my stomach twists painfully at the thought of him standing somewhere nearby, watching me, waiting.

I force myself through class, focus on my notes, pretend everything is normal even though nothing is normal anymore.

But later, as I leave my last lecture, I barely take two steps before I feel it—

A hand gently grabbing my wrist, pulling me back.

I freeze.

His touch is familiar, careful, like he’s afraid I’ll run.

"Y/n."

His voice is quiet, raw, holding a plea that makes my throat tighten.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before finally turning around, my expression carefully blank.

Pedri stands there, looking at me like I’m the most important thing in the world and he’s terrified he’s already lost me.

"Please," he says softly, his fingers still around my wrist. "Just let me explain."

I exhale slowly, trying to keep my voice steady. "There’s nothing to explain, Pedri."

"Yes, there is," he insists, stepping closer.

His hold on my wrist loosens, but he doesn’t let go completely, like he’s afraid that if he does, I’ll disappear.

"Just give me five minutes. That’s all I’m asking."

I hesitate, my mind screaming at me to walk away. But something in his eyes, something so painfully real, holds me in place.

I sigh, crossing my arms. "Fine. Five minutes."

He pulls me aside to a quieter part of campus, away from the crowd, away from prying eyes.

I stand stiffly, my arms still crossed, my body tense like I’m ready to run at any second.

"I never meant what I said," he starts immediately. "I swear to you, Y/n. I didn’t mean a single fucking word of it."

I let out a hollow laugh. "Right. You just happened to say all those things for fun? Just to impress your asshole friends?"

"No," he says quickly, shaking his head. "It wasn’t for fun. It was to protect you."

I blink. "Excuse me?"

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair.

"Those guys? They’re not my friends. They never were. But they have a way of making people’s lives hell. I knew that if I admitted how much I cared about you, they’d go after you. Mock you. Make your life miserable. I thought if I played it off, if I made it seem like I didn’t care, they’d lose interest and leave you alone. Trust me Y/n iy happened before and it had gotten really ugly. I didn't want that to happen to the person I love."

I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "You really think that justifies what you said?"

"No," he admits, his voice softer. "It doesn’t. I was an idiot. I should’ve told you. I should’ve trusted you to understand. But I swear to you, Y/n, I would never actually think those things about you."

"Be a fucking man Pedri and instead of doing this shit stand up for the person you supposedly love. You're nothing but a pussy."

I swallow, my emotions warring inside me. I don’t know what to feel.

So I leave. Again.

Later that day,

It all happens too quickly.

One moment, I’m walking across campus, lost in my own thoughts, and the next, there’s chaos.

A crowd gathers around a scene near the student quad. Loud shouts and yells fill the air.

My heart skips a beat as I push through the mass of students, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s going on.

I’m not expecting to see what I do.

There’s Pedri.

His fists are flying, and the guy he’s fighting, the asshole, is holding his jaw, clearly stunned.

But Pedri doesn’t stop. He throws another punch, fury in his eyes. I see the red in his face, the anger, and it’s not just at the guy. It’s everything. The hurt. The frustration.

The last few weeks have been hell for both of us, but in this moment, it’s all coming out.

His fists are like his words, punching through everything that’s built up, everything that’s been left unsaid.

But I can’t watch it anymore. I’ve seen enough violence in my life to know when things are about to spiral.

“Pedri! Stop!” I shout, pushing through the crowd to grab his arm, pulling him back.

He jerks his head towards me, his expression wild, eyes wide with a mix of rage and confusion.

I hold onto his arm tightly, trying to calm him down.

I don’t know why I’m even doing this for him, but it’s like I’m drawn to him, like I can’t just walk away.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, but slowly, the fight drains out of him as he looks into my eyes.

His breath is ragged, and his hands are clenched into tight fists, knuckles covered in blood.

“Are you stupid?” I mutter, my hands trembling slightly as I grab his arm and pull him away from the scene.

The crowd disperses, some murmuring, others filming with their phones.

Pedri doesn't fight me.

He lets me drag him away, and somehow, I find myself leading him into the first-aid room, a small quiet space where the tension in my chest can finally loosen, even if just a little.

I shove him onto the chair and kneel down, rummaging through the first aid kit.

“Why do you do this?” I ask, my voice shaking. I try to stay calm, but my hands are shaking as I pull out the bandages.

I clean his bloody knuckles carefully, avoiding looking at him too much. I can’t let myself soften. Not yet.

He sighs deeply, his voice low, raw. “He was talking shit about you again. That guy, he just won’t leave you alone. I had to make it stop.”

My heart sinks, and I bite my lip hard. I don’t know how to feel. My stomach churns.

Why did he feel the need to fight again? Why did he let it get this far?

“But why do you keep doing this?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

"I... I don’t understand, Pedri. You say you care, but you keep pushing me away in the worst ways possible."

Pedri doesn’t answer right away. He stares at me for a long moment, his brow furrowed as though he’s considering every word carefully.

I can see the guilt in his eyes, the regret, the desperation. He wants me to understand. He needs me to.

“I—” He hesitates, his voice cracking slightly.

“I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you feel like you were a joke. I thought... I thought I was protecting you, Y/n. From people who wouldn’t appreciate you the way I do. Those guys... They’ll never understand how much you mean to me. But they will hurt you if they think you matter to me."

I’m speechless, blinking at him. There’s a part of me that wants to scream, to tell him he’s full of shit, but the truth in his eyes catches me off guard.

He’s being real, and it’s so hard for me to reconcile that with the image of the guy I heard talking shit about me, degrading me, the guy I’ve been blocking out of my life for a week.

“You should’ve told me that before, Pedri.” I swallow hard.

My voice trembles with the weight of everything.

“Instead of... doing that. I don’t understand why you had to hurt me first.”

He doesn’t look away. He looks... guilty.

“I didn’t know how to explain. I didn’t want you to think I was using you as some kind of... shield or something. But I wasn’t. I swear, I wasn’t.”

His eyes soften as he gently reaches for my hand, his touch so careful now, like I might shatter at any second.

I pull away, feeling the heat of his gaze burn into me.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you yet, Pedri,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath.

“You hurt me too much. And... I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel anymore.”

He nods, his lips pressing together in frustration. “I’ll do anything to make it right. I don’t care what it takes.”

I turn away, my heart heavy, my thoughts too tangled to untangle.

It’s not so simple anymore. I don’t know if it ever will be.

I walk away, feeling like a piece of me is being pulled in two different directions.

The days that follow are both long and quiet. The silence between Pedri and me feels deafening, like an invisible wall built higher with every moment.

He’s not giving up on me, though. Not even close.

It’s hard for me to stay distant. Hard for me to ignore him.

But it feels like I have no other choice. Every time I open my phone, I see his name.

Every time I hear a knock on my dorm door, I know it’s him. But I don’t answer. I won’t.

Still, something is different now. I notice his absence more than I expect.

The void he left in my life isn’t easy to fill. His quiet persistence is eating at me, but I won’t let it show. Not yet.

Pedri, however, doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let up.

At first, it’s small gestures. One morning, I find a handwritten note slipped under my door.

Just his name at the bottom, a few simple words.

“I’m sorry. Please give me a chance to prove I’m worth it.”

It’s the first time I’ve seen him so vulnerable. He’s always been confident, cocky even.

But this? This is different. I can feel the weight of his apology in the paper, and I fold it carefully, slipping it into my pocket.

Then, the flowers start.

He leaves them outside my dorm door every evening, sometimes daisies, sometimes sunflowers, always with a small note attached that says the same thing, “I’m sorry. Let me make it right.”

I feel the pull to just let him back in, but I resist. I’m not ready. I’m still broken.

Days go by, and I finally decide to leave my dorm to go to class. I walk through campus, trying to focus on the routine, trying to shut out everything else.

But I can’t. Pedri’s presence is everywhere.

I see him talking to the guys he used to hang out with, but now he’s different. He’s distant. Not laughing. Not joking around.

I can see it in the way he avoids eye contact, the way he doesn’t engage with them anymore.

His posture is closed off, like he’s shutting something down. I don’t know what it means, but something stirs in me.

Maybe it’s guilt, maybe it’s hope.

That’s when I notice it, his transformation.

Pedri has made a point to distance himself from the very people who encouraged him to hurt me.

He doesn’t hang out with those friends anymore. The ones who always made fun of me, belittled me, and tried to convince him I wasn’t “good enough.”

The ones who laughed at my expense and pushed him to do the same.

He’s even going out of his way to take different routes on campus, avoiding his old crew altogether.

It’s subtle at first, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. He’s proving to me, in the smallest ways, that he’s changing.

That he’s fighting for something that matters more than his pride.

One day, I’m walking to class when I hear footsteps behind me. A familiar voice calls my name.

“Y/n.”

I don’t turn around, pretending like I didn’t hear him.

He’s been trying to talk to me for days, but every time I shut him down. It’s easier that way.

It’s safer.

But then, he’s right beside me, his presence undeniable.

“Please, just let me explain,” Pedri says, his voice low. There’s a softness in it now, no trace of arrogance. Just sincerity.

I finally stop, reluctantly meeting his eyes. He’s standing there, his expression full of regret, but something else, too, determination.

“I’m listening,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I... I’ve been thinking about everything,” he starts, hesitating, as if searching for the right words.

“I was an idiot, Y/n. I should’ve never listened to them, and I should’ve never pushed you away like I did. I wasn’t protecting you. I was just being selfish. And I never should’ve treated you like you were second best. I was wrong. I’m so sorry.”

His words hit me hard, and I want to yell at him. To tell him that his apology doesn’t fix anything.

But the truth is, he’s right. He was selfish. And I was hurt.

But there’s something about him, something in the way he’s looking at me now, that makes me wonder if he really means it.

“I don’t know, Pedri,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“You say you’re sorry, but it doesn’t undo everything. It doesn’t fix what you said or what you did.”

“I know,” he replies quickly.

“And I’m not asking for you to forgive me right away. I’m asking for a chance to show you that I can do better. That I can be the person you deserve. But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me prove it.”

For a moment, we stand there in silence, my mind racing with all the things I’m still unsure about.

But then I notice it, the genuine effort in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice. He’s not just saying the right things.

He’s living it.

“I’ll prove it to you every day,” he says, his voice firm.

“I’ve already cut ties with the guys who put you down. I don’t need people like that in my life. They can think whatever they want, but you? You matter. You always have. I’ll prove that to you, Y/n. I swear.”

I swallow hard, his words breaking through my walls. I want to stay angry.

I want to stay hurt. But everything in me is telling me that maybe, just maybe, he’s worth another chance.

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” I whisper.

“But... I’ll try. Slowly.”

Pedri’s eyes light up, and for the first time in weeks, I see a glimpse of the boy I used to know.

“That’s all I need. Just a chance.”

From that day on, I watch him like a hawk.

Pedri is relentless. He’s not just sending flowers or leaving notes anymore, he’s putting in real effort.

He spends his free time sitting with me in the library, helping me with schoolwork, never pushing for anything more.

Every time I see him talking to his old friends, he’s distant, his back turned, never engaging with the people who once made him feel like he was better than me.

He’s proving to me, with every small action, that he’s serious.

One day, as we sit in the park near campus, he looks at me quietly, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup.

“I know it’s not enough,” he says softly,

“but I hope one day you’ll look at me and see someone who actually cares. Someone who will fight for you, no matter what.”

I look at him then, really look at him, and for the first time in a long while, I believe it.

He’s not perfect. He might have messed up. But he’s doing everything he can to make it right.

“Okay,” I whisper, my heart beating faster. “I’ll let you try.”

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough for now.

A few months later,

the tension between Pedri and me starts to ease. He’s patient, more so than I’ve ever seen him.

And with every day that passes, he seems to be putting more and more effort into proving that he’s not just saying the words.

He’s showing it.

But there’s something else. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.

Pedri hasn’t stopped trying to make things right, and it’s clear he’s not giving up on us.

It’s not just the grand gestures anymore, but the small, thoughtful ones, like leaving me my favorite coffee in the library, or texting me random jokes in the middle of the day to make me smile. (bare minimum fr)

And when I finally start to look at him again, I can see it. There’s real change in him.

And so, when he asks if I’ll go out with him on a date, I don’t say no.

But I don’t expect what happens next.

It’s a Saturday evening, and Pedri messages me earlier in the day, asking me to meet him at 6 PM sharp.

When I arrive at the spot he texted me, the park near campus, I’m greeted with something that takes my breath away.

There, in front of me, is a blanket spread out on the grass. The soft glow of fairy lights surrounds the area, strung between trees, creating a romantic little nook in the middle of the park.

On the blanket, there’s a picnic basket, candles, and even my favorite flowers, lilies, pink and white, arranged in a vase.

It’s not what I expected from him. At all.

Pedri stands beside it all, hands in his pockets, looking nervous as hell.

His eyes light up when he sees me, and for the first time in ages, I see a boy who’s trying harder than anyone ever has to make me feel special.

“Y/n,” he says, his voice shaky but hopeful.

“I know I’ve messed up. But I wanted to show you... that I’m serious about this. About us.”

I stand there for a moment, blinking at the effort he’s put into this.

The last time we were together like this, things were so different.

It feels like we’ve both come a long way.

“Are you serious?” I ask, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

“I’ve never seen you do anything like this before.”

“I know,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But you deserve something better than what I gave you. You deserve to feel appreciated. And not just with words, but with actions. I know this isn’t enough, but... I hope it’s a start.”

I can’t help but smile, my heart beating a little faster as I walk over to him.

“I think it’s a perfect start, Pedri.”

He grins, relief flooding his features.

“I’m glad. I thought I might’ve messed it up with the flowers and all that.”

“Honestly? It’s the most effort anyone’s ever put into a date for me,”

I admit, my voice soft, but sincere.

Pedri chuckles, and his eyes soften.

“Well, then I guess I’m doing something right.”

We sit down on the blanket, and the evening goes from awkward to comfortable, and then, as the conversation flows, it becomes something even more.

We talk about everything, the past, the mistakes, the ways we’ve grown.

We laugh about stupid stuff, and he even admits to being terrible at making dinner (something I’d suspected from the start, but now it’s confirmed).

He makes a joke about how he can barely toast bread without burning it, and I can’t help but laugh.

“I’ll cook for you sometime,” he says with a playful grin. “And you can judge my terrible cooking skills.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” I tease, nudging him with my elbow. “But sure. I’ll take you up on that.”

We settle into a comfortable silence for a while, just listening to the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.

It feels... nice. Simple. And yet, it’s everything I’ve been wanting. I can feel the trust building again, piece by piece.

“Y/n,” he says quietly after a long pause, turning to face me.

“I know I messed up. But I need you to know that I would do anything to make things right. I’ll spend every day proving to you that you’re the one I want, the one I need.”

I look into his eyes, eyes full of sincerity, full of hope, and for the first time in a long while, I believe him.

“Okay,” I whisper, my heart thudding in my chest. “I’ll give you that chance.”

Pedri’s eyes widen, and a grin spreads across his face so fast it takes me by surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I say with a playful smile. “But only if you promise to keep the flowers coming.”

He laughs, his face lighting up like I’ve just given him the biggest gift in the world.

“Done. I’ll keep the flowers and the dates coming. Just don’t leave me again, okay?”

I laugh softly, nudging him again. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“And you’re lucky I’m good at dates,” he grins, leaning in close, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper.

“Otherwise, I’d be in serious trouble.”

“Oh, you’re already in serious trouble,” I tease back, rolling my eyes.

“But I guess I’ll give you another chance. For now.”

Pedri leans back, throwing his arms around me in a mock dramatic fashion.

“I’ll make the most of it, I promise! I’ll win you over... one bad joke at a time.”

I can’t help but laugh as I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body next to mine.

It’s easy now. It’s natural.

“I’ll hold you to that, Pedri,” I say softly, closing my eyes for a moment.

And for the first time in months, everything feels right again.

The end

[crossbackpoke-check]

"Bees" [remixed, abridged], Claudia Emerson // "Letter to Someone Living Fifty Years from Now" [remixed. abridged], Matthew Olzmann // "Letter to my Great, Great Grandchild" [remixed, abridged], J.P. Grasser | Len Redkole, Nina Weiss, Brian Babineau, Christian Peterson, Mitchell Leff, Dave Isaac, Megan DeRuchie

[cautotelic]

Chapter 6: Last Piece of the Puzzle

Ambessa Medarda x Reader

Synopsis: When you get taken away from your home land and thrown into the palace of the infamous warlord, will things be as bad as they first seem?

CW: PURE FLUFF, alluding to sexual acts

A/N: last part, let’s go out with some love

~5 years later~

“Come on, the kids I teach could do better than you, Rictus,” I say as I circle the commander.

Rictus laughs. “Your lucky I’m pulling my punches. The General would not be happy if I actually hurt you.”

“How about you let me deal with Ambessa and you fight. Deal? Deal.” I say as I go to attack him head on.

I’ve switched my regular staff for a more traditional Noxian dual sword staff. I jab it in his direction and he goes to block it. I flick my wrist and summon a shadow reaper that comes at him from the side, distracting him enough so that I can sweep my staff at his feet, having him land on his back.

He’s quick enough and disperses the reaper before swinging his blade over to me. I drift my hand in front of my stomach, erecting a force field, his blade pinging off of it. He looks at me with a mix of relief and anxiety as the blade deflects.

I rein in my breathing as Rictus comes at me with an attack. Using my staff I counter his attacks but I’m not able to get back on the offensive so I stick to blocking. In no time I can tell my motions are getting slower, my body being wracked with fatigue.

Rictus stops his attacks and looks at me concerned. “That’s enough for today, little lady,” he orders.

I roll my eyes at him and catch my breath. “You’re no fun anymore Rictus,” I protest but silently I’m agreeing with him.

“I thought I told you no more sparring,” an ever so familiar voice booms from behind me.

Rictus bows his head in Ambessa’s direction before leaving the arena. I turn around to my ever so brooding wife.

“You’re no fun these days either,” I chide as I watch her stalk over to me with her hands behind her back.

When she’s close enough she hums and pulls me closer to her by the waist. “How is my little one doing?” She asks, concern lacing her voice.

I bring my hands to run over my enlarged stomach. “She’s fine. Restless, but fine,” I say my voice tinged with exhaustion. Ambessa’s large hands come to press against my stomach, her cold hands a nice contrast to my warm skin as she looks at my pregnant belly.

“I’m not talking about the baby, dear,” she clarifies as she looks at me expectedly.

I huff and bring my hand to cradle her cheek. “I’m just fine, you worry too much.”

She looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. “Obviously I’m not worrying enough. Going behind my back and sparring with my most trusted commander? I should punish you for it…” she says

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh please do General,” I egg on sarcastically.

She chuckles and lays her head into my neck. I pull her head away from me and give her a good once over. “You look exhausted. How many times have I told you not to be staying up so late to do paperwork?” I ask, noting the stress lines etched on her face.

She nuzzles her cheek into my palm and turns her head to kiss the band of my wedding ring. “Don’t worry about me, it’s not good for the baby. Plus that's my job.”

“I told you I hate when you say that…” I huff as my hand makes its way to her hair where it sits in a low military style bun, clearly having been like that for multiple days. “Come on, you're in deep need of a good bath and some T.L.C, my love,” I command as I kiss her cheek.

•••

I sit on the edge of the tub, my legs in the water. My hands work on lathering and detangling the hair of the woman sitting between my legs. I take the last section of her hair and take some cream in my hand, spread it on the section before taking a comb and brushing her hair out, bottom to top. I’m gentle with brushing out her hair not wanting to pull too hard.

Her hand comes up out of the water to tenderly squeeze my calf beside her. “Dear im not made of glass, you don’t need to be so gentle,” she chuckles.

I move my hand to the base of her scalp and give the hair there a firm tug, earning a groan. “Better?” I ask teasingly.

“Always trying my patience little one.”

I make a small sound and shrug and go back to brushing her hair before starting to braid her hair into a protective style. Weaving the strands of her hair over and under each other. It’s taken a long time but now I’m the only person other than herself who she will let do her hair, and I carry that badge with pride.

One of my newts floats around in the water by my leg, since my pregnancy I’ve found comfort in having them around more often than not.

I take the bottle of oil beside me and apply it in between each of the braids. Ambessa lets out satisfied sighs as I massage the oil into her scalp.

Once I’m finished touching her hair, Ambessa’s hand reaches back and pulls my head down towards hers as she presses a loving, tender kiss on my lips.

“Always so good to me, hm?” I smirk as I pull away to go put her hair care products away. From behind me I hear her rise from the tub and dry herself off.

I exit the bathroom and into our shared bedroom, going to sit on my couch in front of the fireplace as I pull out my stethoscope and notebook. Placing the earpieces in my ear I press the cool metal to my stomach and quiet my breathing as I move it around, only stopping when I hear the familiar sound of a heartbeat.

I wait and count how many beats per minute before writing it down in my notebook. I do this 5 times. While I’m busy, I don’t hear Ambessa come out of the bathroom dressed in nothing but her silk robe. She places the newt on the couch next to me, the small shadow spinning around before settling down beside my leg. She removes the ear pieces from my ears and places them in hers.

A small, proud smile appears on her face. “She will be strong, just like her mother,” she reassures. “Again, stop worrying, the physician said that everything is going as it should," she adds trying to quell my worries.

I sigh as I take the stethoscope and place it on the couch beside me. “I know, I know. I just feel like something is going to go wrong, something always goes wrong,” I admit as I run my hands anxiously over my swollen stomach as I’m reminded of my own childhood.

Ambessa reaches out and steadies my hands, holding them in hers. “Nothing is going to happen to you or our child, dear. I assure you. Now,” she says as she stands from her kneeling position, pulling me up with her. “I think you need some T.L.C too, don’t you think?” She asks, her tone hinting at more than the usual foot massage.

She backs me up and I fall back to sit on the edge of the bed. I quirk an eyebrow. “While I do enjoy your enthusiasm, is what you have in mind also ‘not good for the baby’?” I ask, throwing her words back at her.

She kneels down again in front of me and starts gently kissing up my bump and I chuckle at the tickling sensation. She trails her way up my chest to my collarbone and neck where she starts focusing her attention. She hums with disagreement as she shakes her head. “Nope, not at all. Actually it’s completely beneficial… for you.”

I roll my eyes with a sigh as I tilt my head to give her more access. “Yeah? What book did you read that in?”

She acts as if she is thinking. “Hm? Mine, it’s called Tough Love and will you very respectfully shut up so I can get on with helping my dear, darling wife relax?” She asks, her hands hooked and resting in the waistband of the flowy pants I was wearing, waiting for my go ahead.

I think a little about it. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt…” At that she presses her lips to mine as she pulls my pants off.

My hand reaches out to her and pulls the tie of her robe loose before opening it and letting it slide off her shoulders, leaving her bare in front of me. She pushes me back to lay on the plush silk sheets of the bed.

•••

The white of my dress is contrasted to the greenery around me

The woman I once hated, who I thought would harm me

A life I once was accustomed to

Is the same woman who now stands before me in a white dress with pieces of her battle armor on

Of course.

A ceremony just for us, vows said in hushed whispers so that they are truly our own

An everlasting promise between two souls

Forged in blood and tenderness

Sealed with a kiss.

•••

I would never admit it but I have grown to be very fond of and love this cold, ruthless, warlord of mine.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

You know I've been meaning to ask.. is everything okay? I mean your pfp is blank. I understand you're uploading, but I also want to make sure you're okay

idk if i have some mental connection with you, anon, because how else i can explain that you sent this ask right when i felt so bad??? but yeah i should really put a pfp, i just can’t choose the right pic and at same time im lazy….

honestly i promised myself i wouldn’t vent online and irl because i don’t wanna be annoying or be the kind of person people get tired of. but i guess i just feel emotional rn sorry again

well 2025 kinda kicked me in the face already LMAO, it already reminded me that some people will always pick someone else and some things are just not meant to be yours. i just got reminded once again that i’m super replaceable to person i really loved and cared about. so now im realising that i was just there to pass the time until they found smth better, someone better. and they did, they did and that’s just unfair for me, i literally loved this person for 10 years and that's how i ended up

not exactly the fresh start i was hoping for lol

been feeling like a ghost in my own life lately so i guess i made this blog to just be somewhere, to talk to people, to share things i love, to feel like i exist in some small way. to find friends? idk. sometimes i wonder if i’m just taking up space here, but deleting this blog feels dramatic so whatever. although i thought bout this a lot and still think about it, but i guess im just being... yeah, dramatic, i mean i am, ive been told. so, i don't know, deleting feels rude ? and i don’t wanna be rude, i hate being rude :( i still hesitate every time i post though. and i don’t want to be that person who craves reassurance but damn, it gets lonely and im embarrassed to even say that rn

+ last year drained me so much that i couldn’t even start anything for a whole month. its about my work, i just felt stuck, exhausted before i even tried. things are getting better now with my work, though. it’s actually tied to people and honestly, i love that?? i mean, i love people very much. in general. so whenever i meet someone kind or understanding in my work, it lifts my mood

but when it comes to writing or fics, i feel like i’m always fighting myself. actually i enjoy writing, ive been writing since… 14? 13? so i try, i push through, but nothing ever feels right lately. i don’t know if it’s just a phase or if this is how it’s always going to be. why i always feel like i could’ve done better or that maybe i shouldn’t have posted at all

anyways….. i don’t usually post stuff like this. i really don’t want to be like this, i hate sounding so negative, i really do. i promised myself i wouldn’t. i usually just keep things to myself, but you seemed like you genuinely cared, sweetheart and i figured i might as well be honest, i appreciate your worry! thank u sm angel! ♡

[heister-shmeister]

holy shit hello saateco. firstly i want to say a huge thank you for reblogging this and having such a long response i love reading long responses and having talks like this. secondly i fucking love your artwork and when i saw it was you my jaw dropped. your art brings me so much joy

i wanna respond to a couple things in your reblog. i didnt intend to be as potentially ignorant sounding or insensitive in my original post as i was. its a pretty old post now i think and seeing my notifications blow up about it made me reread it and jesus christ i dont know if i agree much with it anymore. i guess i can thank you for the boost as well. i wanna say that i was not trying to say anything in the post as fact and the post was inspired by how i see the payday community talk about sokol as well as some of my opinions on him

im gonna admit the primary character trait being communism mark is entirely incorrect and i rescind it. communism does have smth to do with him though in some way, seeing as his mask is based off of the soviet navy flag. in fact it fascinates me how he references putin in his voice lines but also chose the soviet navy flag as the reference for his mask- but it probably doesnt go beyond “russian stereotype” and that makes me sad

another thing is my shock with his technological prowess comes from a character writing standpoint. this is all purely my opinion and how my weird brain processes character writing, but it simply eluded me why sokol built the bfd and has that engineering knowledge when many other characters were equally capable of creating the bfd, considering houston and wolfs engineering prowess is far more emphasized in the games. it just confuses me why sokol made the bfd and not the others and how nobody in the fandom brings it up

as for the comment on jacket. when it comes to the payday community a lot of people notice that logically jacket would not like sokol, even if he is completely neutral in the text of the game. in the game jacket is from, hotline miami, his best friend was killed in a nuclear bombing done by russia. in the hotline miami universe the cold war evolved into a full on war in which jacket fought against mainly russians. the core plot of the game revolves around jacket slaughtering the russian mafia in miami. that is why i mentioned it in the list, because people talk about their potential rivalry a lot. explaining this is not to imply that you didnt know i was just explaining things for example. i agree in not thinking payday 2 jacket actually hates sokol. i actually think theyre a little gay.

also this is not to say jacket is justified in his xenophobia in the hotline miami games just throwing that out there for anyone not directed at saateco just saying this in general. i think wanting to get revenge against the people that killed your best friend is reasonable BUT it is literally one of the points of hotline miami that the patriotism and hatred for russians was stupid.

idk how to close this out

thank you so much for the reblog im genuinely grateful

sokol is a fucking hilarious character

the purpose he serves as a character in payday 2’s story is so fucking funny his skillset is so god damn funny. but like. not even unrealistic

he has so many gimmicks

hes relevant for three seconds in the grand scheme of the payday story

hes.. russian. he is a professional hockey player. he- he can. build. shed-sized laser cutting drills

why can he do that who let him do that

he never mentions his engineering prowess in any of his voice lines (iirc)

he just. can do that

it gives someone with adhd taking their adderall for the first time and it kicking in right as theyre browsing the wikipedia article for nuclear fission and next thing they know theyre wanted by the fbi

its not like its unrealistic for people to have more than one interest but its just so funny how unrelated and irrelevant sokols engineering knowledge seems when put next to everything else about him. especially since theres already other characters who fill the role of awesome engineer dude already

houston isnt THE engineer but hes the mechanic and wolf literally has his own workshop

sokol made. the fucking bfd.

and his primary character trait isnt even that

its communism

his engineering smarts are like the last thing anyone remembers about his personality and it is the reason in lore why he is in the payday gang

sokols attributes in the order most often noticed by people who get into this game

russian

hockey

russian which means jacket wouldnt like him

burgers

prison nightmare voice lines

HE MADE THE FUCKING BFD..

THE BFD!!

[imsiriuslyreading]

AFTG reading update

alright so i finished book 1, the foxhole court.

before i start, a little drive-by from they who will not be named:

anyway!

first and foremost this book was the ultimate escapism. it feels like fanfiction and i mean that with so much love and honour and respect. fanfiction happens to be my favourite 💅🏽

i am so obsessed with these little monsters that i’ve been having lucid dreams about them HAHA. i’ve also ended up on what i believe to be russian aftg fandom tiktok so there we have it! i have no idea what’s happening but im happy to be involved.

there’s too much to cover but holy shit. neil? neil. i want to wrap this poor traumatised boyo up and give him a cuddle and protect him from everyone. when coach was shouting at him and he flinched? stop. my heart. pls.

kevin. poor traumatised kevin. i fear the word traumatised is gonna come up often here. i want to know what’s going on in this boys head all the time. because hello what do you mean you can switch on this little famous boy persona in an instant but the next you’re shaking like a little leaf?

andrew. andrew andrew andrew. what the fuck. i fear i am meant to hate you, but in actuality you consume my every thought. you might be the worst person ive ever read and i would like very much to be your best friend. the way he just knows everything. observes it all, doesn’t talk about it but just like drops made lore and knowledge unprovoked right when neil needs to hear it. ugh. UGH.

that whole talk show thing had me pacing around in utter panic too. i was so stressed and also riko is terrifying help?? that kathy woman, if i ever see you it’s on sight. the image of renee shoving her legs over andrew to stop him moving made me laugh so much. and andrew with the “i don’t share” oh my christ.

anyway some highlights:

i am very very excited to start the next one. @leodores i wanna hear your unspoilered thoughts from the first book asap 👀

[pyro-tf2-but-trans]

After extensive research (scrolling down on my blog a few times) I noticed I have never headcanoned ages, so for my reemergence, here’s how old I think the mercs are and some other stuff :)

Scout

23 (im pretty sure this is canon)

Born April 8th

has a fuckass tooth gap, needed braces as a kid that he hated and refuses to wear his retainer now (medic does NOT approve)

terrible diet, he's only so thin because of his occupation and insane metabolism. He hasn't seen a vegetable since last time he visited his ma.

On that note, he's also TERRIBLE about drinking water and gets confused as to why he always has a headache.

boyfailure <3

decent cook, actually

as in the food he makes is edible, despite however it might look visually

grew up just outside of Boston

Keeps random shit on his walls, constantly needs more thumbtacks. Posters, post its, stickers, pictures, signs... why is there a fucking SPOON taped next to his door this is ridiculous.

Sometimes he catches himself sucking his thumb at his big age, the loser

when he was a kid he got bullied for not looking like his siblings like at all

Soldier

38

born July 3rd (WHY COULDN'T YOU HOLD HIM IN A LITTLE LONGER, MOM.)

world war autism

both as in intensity and special interest

First got into US military type stuff hearing about the Vietnam war as a kid, it fascinated him and made him absolutely determined to help

grew up in Minnesota, ironically HATES the cold

typa guy to make himself run laps and junk if he realized he was being rude to women or something

probably ace, yes I know he has children shut up

Pyro

probably the youngest on the team, maybe 25?

born December 20th

facial dysmorphia :(

they have burn scars all over their body from an old memory they've since pushed deep into the back of their head

they can handle not wearing their suit if they absolutely have to, but avoid mirrors lest they stare into it for a long time not quite recognizing the person looking back at them

medic and engie are really the only ones that have seen them outside of the suit more than once

sorry that got sad lol

anyway they hate being infantilized, not only for being the youngest but also for being delusional

it doesn't happen as often as you'd think, at least. But sometimes medic will baby talk them when they're getting a checkup or scout will say something ignorant. They can ignore it but it gets annoying.

they enjoy chocolate ice cream

a fan of the cold in general

pretty handy, actually. They built their flamethrowers and a good few of their melee weapons, engie taught them a lot.

cutting this short cause I've been yapping about pyro for too long

Demoman

36

born January 31st

has only actually been to Scotland like twice, he was born in the us with his mum, just grew up with her long enough to gain the accent anyway

doesn't know a lick of Gaelic, sorry. Obviously words like "bonnie" and "Gob" slip out, but that's just basic Scottish vocabulary lmao

he has a collection of eye patches, he thinks his missing eye is kinda cool when he isn't annoyed about his lack of depth perception

he uses bombs specifically because of his lack of depth perception, actually, since as long as he hits within the vicinity of his target he usually wins

he's a fan of the outdoors, hangs around sniper sometimes

crazy smart, specifically a chemistry nerd (obviously) but he can answer crazy specific questions on anything. this also means he's very good at converting measurements, if you're ever baking or something lol

that last part specifically helps whenever the European dweebs say something metric and the Americans need a translator.

"yeah that's 55 kilometers away" "..." "that's about 34 miles, lad" "oooohhh"

Heavy

54, the eldest

born August 16th

hes generally pretty good at English, but certain words annoy him

like colorful? jump

likes working out with soldier, specifically lifting. The most wholesome gym bros.

helps short people reach things on tall shelves

not a whole lot I haven't already said about him lol

Engineer

42

born June 10th

horrific blue eye stare

get brown eye contacts I'm scared

scout clings to him almost as much as pyro does, actually.

he doesn't mind all that much, at least

speaks Spanish pretty fluently, though he has a very obvious accent and has yet to master rolling his Rs, he's trying his best at least <3

he's a fan of fall

used to be the worlds most annoying angsty teenager, if you can believe it

grew out of it, obviously, but he still has a crap ton of old vinyl records of all the rock bands he used to listen to in secret in a box somewhere

(if you're wondering, his parents were NOT fans)

he has four siblings! he's the second eldest, two sisters and two brothers

knows a bit of medical stuff from medic, its how he put the healing factor into the dispenser

Medic

46

born March 19th

never went to medical school, but he did quite a bit of studying in both human anatomy and biology

so yeah he never had a medical license in the first place lol

he has a collection of bones and other bits (organs, wet specimens, etc etc)

human? animal? yes

the med bay smells like birds, its not sanitary

he's a good medic despite all of these, though! just double check that you have all your guts in order before and after an operation! scout still has a bird in his chest, after all.

off topic but he also has really thick hair that sheds a lot, like if he lays down somewhere you can find a bunch of black hairs like little snakes all over the place

^hes just like me for real!

like weirdly beefy? that medigun is heavier than it looks, and the backpack is even heavier

hed be a fan of squid game in a modern au

Sniper

30

born February 23rd

weirdly cagey about his birthday?? like he'll tell you if you ask but he'll be all like "what?? why do you need to know that??"

his footsteps don't make noise, he regularly startles people (scout) by just walking into a room and just standing there

sushi fan

like never gets sick, probably from being outside all the time his whole life but his immune system is made out of steel

medic finds this fascinating lol

blind as hell without his glasses

shaves with his knife just because he thinks its cool lmao

he has a scar on his cheek because of this though he lies and says its because he almost got hit by an enemy sniper

loser hides under his hat when he's embarrased

kisses him with tongue

Spy

50

born ??? (he says a different date every time someone asks)

THIS BITCH ISNT EVEN FRENCH!!!!!

grew up in like Nevada and puts on the whole french thing to be more anonymous

fuck is a petite chou fleur?? your little cauliflower?? come on now

#spyhater

no but I do think he is a spy, and a very good one at that (he managed to convince everyone he's french, after all)

he was supposed to be on a way more advanced team but got misplaced but he was useful on the team so he stayed there (and he felt guilty about leaving his son yet again)

needed braces as a kid, wears his retainer religiously

he's visibly uncomfortable with having his mask off, but not in the same way pyro is. He hates the idea of being seen more than they hate seeing themselves.

If he doesn't like you he won't make it obvious, but he'll just. stare at you for an uncomfortable amount of time. not even in a death glare way, more like he's calculating how many ways he could make you vanish into thin air

sniper thinks he's neat

[tayswife]

— braid my hair, kiss my lips

☆ glinda upland x elphaba thropp

☆ summary: glinda gets frustrated with her hair. elphaba ends up braiding it for her. or, glinda spirals over not being able to braid her hair and gay witches end up kissing.

☆ a/n: when i’m talking about them getting reading for fencing training class im talking about that one clip in what is this feeling but i have no idea if that’s actually fencing or not helpppp…

glinda sat at her vanity, across the room from elphaba who was sitting on her bed with a book opened in her lap. she was waiting on her recently new friend, glinda, to finish getting reading so they could head off to fencing training class. arriving together to class had been something that they had began doing without even discussing it. they seemed to be constantly together lately.

glinda groaned, loud enough for anyone outside of their dorm room to hear, and she threw her face into her hands. elphaba looked up at her frustrated friend and closed her book. even though they were friends now, elphaba was still skeptical of glinda. she wasn’t entirely sure what the girl’s intentions were quiet yet. she didn’t hate her, she was just unsure.

elphaba stood up off of her bed and slowly walked over to her. when glinda heard the delicate clink of her heels against the wood floor, she looked up and carefully watched elphaba through her vanity mirror.

she still looks very angry but her face seemed to soften when she saw elphaba.

“you okay?” elphaba asks.

glinda sighs, and looks down. elphaba’s expecting the blonde to start yelling about whatever problem she is currently facing, but instead, her voice is quiet and defeated, “no. my stupid hair won’t braid. i don’t know what’s wrong with it today.”

elphaba closed the large distance that was between them and stood right behind glinda. glinda’s hair was unkept and messy. elphaba thought she looked most beautiful like this. it was the glory of being roommates and seeing a side of each other that nobody else gets to see.

“would you like me to braid it for you?” elphie says it quietly as if she’s still talking to the old glinda that would cringe at her offer.

instead, glinda’s eyes widened. a soft smile appears on her pink lips. she nods, “you’d do that for me?”

“of course.” glinda’s played dress up with elphaba now that they’re friends; attempting to find her a new style, but elphie hasn’t yet been the one to help out glinda. people typically don’t go to her for fashion, and makeup, and beauty. however, to their disbelief, elphie really is great at braiding hair.

glinda gave her a smile and nod of consent and hands her friend a bright pink hairbrush. elphaba brushed through the golden locks, being extra careful to not hurt her when she brushed through the knots that glinda created from her multiple attempts at braids.

“you’re really gentle,” glinda says, “i like you brushing my hair.”

elphaba blushed. and she didn’t know why she blushed at glinda’s words either, but she did, and now she needed to compliment the blonde witch back. “well your hair is very soft so that helps a lot.”

“thank you,” glinda says softly. and that’s all either of them say, but both girls sit there thinking about the exchange and how intimate this moment feels.

elphaba eventually puts down the brush when glinda’s hair is perfectly untangled. she picks up one section of her hair and, for a moment, all she can think about is how this is the first time that her hands have been on glinda’s hair and she tries to ignore the flutter feeling in her chest.

she then separates that section into three more and starts crossing them over each other. having elphaba’s hands thread through her hair makes glinda so sleepy but her heart beating a mile a second keeps her awake.

eventually, she gets to her ends and ties it off with a tiny clear elastic that glinda handed her. it’s when she’s about to go to the second section of her hair that glinda hands her a string of baby pink ribbon. of course glinda wasn’t going to not have any accessories in her hair. that would be very un-glinda like.

elphie smiles at her through her vanity mirror and glinda smiles back. “how could i forget,” elphaba says, and then ties a perfect bow at the end to hide the elastic.

she then does the exact same thing on the other side of glinda’s head; three strands, cross them, elastic, and then the pink ribbon. frankly, she wishes she wasn’t finished. she wouldn’t admit it out loud, but she enjoyed spending time like this with glinda. unbeknown to her, glinda felt the exact same feelings. unfortunately though, they had to get to class and glinda didn’t have any more hair to braid.

“for once it’s you giving me the makeover,” glinda teases and turns around in her stool to face her friend. they’re now very very close and elphaba thinks she should probably take a step back but her brain and feet seem to be unconnected right now.

“i actually didn’t mind it,” she says, and they both giggle. she wanted to say that she actually very much enjoyed it but she couldn’t blow her cover. “you look nice in braids,” she then adds and immediately regrets it right as it falls off her tongue.

“yeah?” glinda challenges with a teasing glimmer in her eyes, but tones it down once she sees elphaba’s slightly frightened face that she’s trying so hard to suppress after giving out that compliment. “thank you. i like the way you do them.”

elphaba smiles, waiting for the silence that’ll be full of tension. yet, it doesn’t happen. glinda continues on talking. “everyone expects me to be perfect. but i’m not. i can’t even braid my own hair.”

“we all have flaws,” elphaba chimes in, though thinks to herself how she has many more than others. and how glinda is completely perfect besides the fact that she struggled to braid her hair this morning.

glinda sighs and then turns back around to stare at herself in the mirror. “i gave you so much trouble when you first got here—”

“glinda…”

“no, elphie, i did and im not even perfect. i acted like i was. like i was better than you.”

“you’ve changed,” elphaba counteracts. shes still skeptical about glinda, however, her acts at the ozdust make her believe that the pink witch might truly be different than their first encounters.

“but it’s not fair,” she says louder, almost like she’s fighting with herself, “you have to deal with it! everyday! but really, i’m the imperfect one yet i’m the one everyone follows.”

elphaba then sighs. she walks away, and glinda thinks she might’ve upset elphaba and struck a nerve. but then she sees the witch pull up a chair beside her and then she’s grabbing glinda’s hand and holding them so tightly yet so gentle.

“it’s not your fault, glinda. i’ve been dealing with it since the moment i was born and i’ve mostly learned how to deal.”

“but it’s not fair,” glinda says very quietly and then looks down at her lap; at their green and pale hands intertwined. glinda thinks, they clash so nicely with each other.

“it’s not,” elphaba agrees. she doesn’t know where she’d found this current confidence deep inside her but she puts her fingers under glinda’s chin and tilts her head up so they’re face to face again. “but it’s the way it is.”

this sudden gesture from elphie sparks something in glinda. her big brown eyes are open wider than usual, and right as elphaba speaks the last syllable, glinda’s leaning forward and deeply kissing her.

elphaba’s entire body freezes and she doesn’t kiss back because, frankly, she doesn’t entirely process what’s happening at first. she actually isn’t sure it truly is happening.

glinda quickly pulls back and she’s quick to start moving her lips to speak rather than to kiss, “oh my— i’m so so sorry. i don’t know what—” glinda goes to stand up, or at least attempts to, but elphie grabs her wrists and brings her back down to her stool. at this point, glinda doesn’t even bother to finish what she was saying.

elphaba had never kissed anyone once before, but everything feels so easy with glinda. and that’s the most surprising of it all, she thinks. she leans in before glinda can say anything else and starts kissing her for real this time.

she’s impossibly close to her that she can strongly smell the sweet notes of fresh flowers and vanilla that always radiating off of glinda. the blonde witch then places her hand on elphaba’s thigh as to steady herself, or maybe to even work elphie up.

elphaba’s green lips are so incredibly soft but she really didn’t expect any less of her. despite what everyone else thinks, glinda is with her all the time and can argue that elphaba isn’t a disgusting monster but rather a beautiful girl that isn’t any different besides the green color on her flesh.

they finally pull away and stare at each other, both with puffy lips. some of glinda’s pink lipstick had rubbed off onto elphaba’s lips. pink goes well with green, she quickly thinks back to the morning after the ozdust. it so does. she doesn’t even want to tell elphaba because she looks so pretty and she doesn’t want her to wipe it off.

just then, while glinda’s reminiscing, does elphie remember the reason she has braided her hair in the first place, the reason they even ended up in this position. they had to get to class. elphaba’s never late to class but by the looks of the clock, it started five minutes ago.

“glinda,” elphaba says, as if they didn’t just practically eat each others faces off.

the blonde hums a yes, oblivious to where they should be right now.

“we were supposed to be to class five minutes ago.” glinda smirks at her, clearly not as worried. frankly, this wasn’t her favorite class and kissing elphaba seems way more important than fencing training.

“can’t we skip?” glinda asks, knowing what the answer was going to be and so she put her best puppy dog face on and continued, “i wanna keep kissing you.”

“glinda, i can’t afford to miss class. you can’t either!”

“you’ve never missed a class in your life. i think i can get us out of it.”

glinda stares at her with big pleading eyes. elphaba stares back as if though she’s internally fighting with herself. she’s a perfect student yet then again, what would missing one fencing class do?

“alright fine,” she says, and the other girl squeals in excitement, “but we aren’t making this a frequent thing.”

“can we make the kissing a frequent thing?” glinda asks, biting down on her bottom lip as if she were trying to stimulate the feeling of elphaba lips.

“i think we can make that work,” elphaba says, and once again, pulls glinda back in for more. it certainly wasn’t going to be the only time glinda’s charm made her absent for class.

[dearweirdme]

https://www.tumblr.com/dearweirdme/774381954334326784/what-haunts-me-is-tae-waiting-for-someone-to-open

“Not a bad thing to be haunted by”

But if this was a Jikook edit you would have gone on and on about how you hate the way Jikookers sexualize everything Jikook does. Funny how you don’t see to share the same sentiment here💀

Hi anon!

Im getting extremely tired of all the ‘but if this was a jkk’ asks i’ve been getting (probably all you), so let me put some things straight here (and if you come back like this again you will get blocked).

This ask actually says way more about where your mind goes than about mine. Because I never said anything about them having sex, neither did my anon (though perhaps their mind did go there, I don’t know). For me, this would be a moment of intimacy.. a moment for them to be together without having a camera pointed at their faces. I don’t actually tend to think they are sexually intimate when there’s cameras around because that would be an actual huge risk (something Jkkrs don’t seem to understand). You seem to follow my blog very intensely, so you know I hardly ever mention their sexlives and I certainly do not sexualize them.

But also this, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to believe in both Jkk and Tkk? In neither? Do you want me to stop blogging? None of that’s going to happen, so you might as well just block me if it’s so annoying to you.

Moreover, Jikook is fake. It was clear before , but during AYS it is proven to be fake by Jm and Jk themselves. I am not going to be considarate towards Jkkrs, because they are delusional. The moment Jk and Jm said this…

… it was all over. This is strong evidence of Jkk being fake. I know Jkkrs either ignore this (searching for a clip of this is actually hilarious) of twist it into a romanticized temporary breakup thingy), but what they are telling us is that they didn’t meet or hang out or even call for months! Not even just two months… but at least spanning the time Jm was busy with Face until AYS. And they are talking about it in a joking lighthearted way. We could tell that during the time they didn’t meet it was also not an issue, because they mentioned each other just fine during their weverse lives. We actually did see them together (didn’t make an impact apparently) during Hobi’s enlistment and they were just fine. Jm told Jk to visit him more during that dance practice, so Jkkrs idea of Jm being too busy is an idiotic one (especially since he did make time for Hobi and Yoongi, and facetimed Tae several times a month. There was nothing wrong between Jm and Jk.. they just did not make time for each other and that goes against them being in a relationship. This is not even something you can point at as being my point of view or my opinion… this is just facts.

Above all that, please let Jkkrs do research on how queer artists who are out get treated and let them think about if they truly believe Jm and Jk would be able to be out. BH having/letting them do this show is also proof that they are not together. Them enlisting together is also proof that they are not together. Music companies do not take risks.

So.. please go away with your ‘but if it was a Jkkr saying this’ nonsense as if I’m somehow supposed to treat their ideas the same as ours.

[jezebelgoldstone]

YES OKAY DESPAIR NOT I'VE GOT YOU FRIEND.

Briefly: I learned how to crochet when I was six, and did so regularly until I was in my mid-twenties. Then I started getting pain in my thumb. It got so bad and I was so scared of carpal tunnel and arthritis that I stopped crocheting for about 5 years. I didn't talk to a doctor or anything about it because I was convinced they were going to tell me I could never crochet again, and I knew I just couldn't handle hearing that. Somewhere in those five years knitting started to hurt my wrists as well, so I prioritized typing and gave up knitting too.

So like I said about 5 years after I hadn't crocheted at all, I finally managed to work up the emotional fortitude to talk to my doctor about it.

If you have pain from doing your hobbies, things that make you happy, then that means that you are having pain that is lowering your quality of life and you do deserve medical care for it. I'm not a doctor & you should talk to your own doctor too because our situations may be very different, obviously.

That said! I'm going to tell you what worked for me!

Me: my joints hurt when i knit or crochet. I'm worried im developing arthritis.

Dr: How do you manage the pain when you knit or crochet?

Me: I don't. I stopped doing either a few years ago.

Dr, emphatic: oh no no no! You can't STOP! That will just make it worse!

Me: ...wat

Dr: if you stop doing those motions with your joints, or stop using those joints altogether, that will cause them to deteriorate!

Me: so i just... push through the pain...?

Dr: the pain is caused by irritation and swelling, which will ALSO cause deterioration. What you need to do is take an anti-inflammatory like ibuprofen about fifteen minutes before you start knitting or crochetting. Do that for a while and you won't develop arthritis.

Me: sounds fake but okay.

Fam I took an advil and fifteen minutes later knitted or crocheted for an hour or two like three times and i was fine.

So after the doctor told me that there was no reason I should have to give up two hobbies that I love so much, I started paying more attention to how I crochet and I have come up with the below list.

Jez's 3 Easy Steps to Not Fuck Your Joints While Crocheting or Knitting

See above re: talking to doctors and also using ibuprofen to manage joint irritation swelling & pain.

COMFORTABLE ERGONOMIC TOOLS. Can't stress this one enough. For knitting, this means using only wooden knitting needles and never metal or plastic. The lighter the needle the better. For crocheting, this means getting those crochet hooks with the rubber padding on the end. Yes they are more expensive than the plain metal hooks, but guys, these are life-changing. Life-saving, even. Also I know we all hate shein and amazon, but amazon has sets of the lightest bamboo needles ive ever found at like ten pairs for seven dollars, & shein has padded ergonomic crochet hooks in all the normal sizes generally for like under two or three dollars a pop. Get you some bamboo knitting needles & padded ergonomic crochet hooks I am begging.

Pay attention to your actual movements when you crochet! I hold the crochet hook a little funky (like a pencil instead of with my whole hand) but that alone isn't enough to do harm. It turns out one of my problems was that I was using the hook to grab the loop and pull it onto the shaft of the hook, and in so doing I was rolling my thumb. So I was rolling my thumb literally every stitch. I started keeping the hook still and pushing the point through the loops instead, thereby also keeping my thumb still, et voila! It took a little while to get used to, but this also has been life-altering!

Don't give up! You deserve to be able to do the things you love and that make you happy without pain and without stressing that you're destroying your body! I know it seems like the kind of thing that doctors wouldn't pay attention to, but your hobbies causing pain lowers your quality of life and you do deserve medical care for it! Even if your doctor sucks or you don't have access to medical care, you can still do other things that will lessen the stress on your joints!

ok quastion for the crocheters. has crocheting ever caused you pain on the base of your thumb in the hand holding the hook?? I dont think I'm holding it weird or clenching my hand and yet. guess what's hurty

[ssaseaprince]

God, I hate people genderbending gay ships. We so rarely get queer representation, and most of the time, the fandoms have to come up with the main queer ships because 95% of shows don't have any. So we invent our own representation and create our own material based on them, and then people come in and turn it straight. If you want to interact with straight media, go write about the billions of straight relationships represented in media, don't turn our few, personally created, gay ships into straight ones. It's just so gross fr

[shepscapades]

Contrary to popular belief etho and bdubs are not divorced and in this essay I will

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[mukipookie]

this is mostly a reflection for myself, you don't have to read this.

but fyi: i picked complicated lol.

but like tbh i genuinely find ajaw hilarious, i have since the moment we met him and that opinion hasn't changed.

this is a bit long, be warned,

I usually am not a fan of characters who are mean for the sake of being mean (ahem. fuckass. yae miko.), but Ajaw is portrayed in a comedic manner: he's rude as shit but you immediately get the deal that he's just a loud-mouthed, cocky little thing that you can bitch slap to celestia with a flick of the wrist, and that, personally, is the only way to write a bitch-character and that will make me enjoy them. cartoonish over-exaggeration to the point it's funny.

he's an absolute asshole but he frequently gets what's coming for him AND he is, in general, the embodiment of Gen Z's spirit animals smh: he behaves just like about 80% of my friends: death wishes and all. it's literally like watching a part of myself and my entire friend group be stuffed into a character and that is genuinely hilarious imo.

I think tho, since i believe u mentioned (if you, OP, are reading this) in the comments that you like kinich, but don't like the way ajaw talks to him: it would probably be interesting to dive a bit into their lore, because, at face value, they hate each other but once you read it, their duo becomes much more complicated. There is mutual respect for the other, but it's not obvious at all, especially with how they act.

And that, again is also probably why I find Ajaw so fucking hilarious: just like my friends/me fr. We have LORE, good lore, and we care about each other very very much, but the way we talk to each other: you'd think we're #1 opps out for each other's blood deadass. the sheer amount of "kill yourselves" and other violent death wishes we throw at each other has become numb to our ears to the point when someone says that to me and actually means it (like in the hell comments of my pinterest posts), I start cackling because I'VE PLAYED THESE GAMES BEFORE.

I'm completely unphased by Ajaw, if anything, say, for sake of explanation, I was kinich and I had that contract with Ajaw instead, we would get along splendidly. Solely because I would literally lose my shit with laughter every time he says something. We would bond over a shared sense of humour.

so maybe my liking for ajaw comes from the fact that he is literally the embodiment of my friends/myself. He's mean but in the same mean as when me and my friends jokingly are mean to each other so I'm not nearly as bothered by it in comparison to when a character like YAE MIKO is just a bitch in general, has no comedic effect, does not have any reliability, and has no memorable "that's actually wild" moments-

unlike ajaw who's middle name is "comedic effect" (this mf is literally natlan's comedic relief atp, ifa might be joining soon but right now it's ajaw), he can immediately be related to the average friend group of this day and age, and has multiple "that's actually wild" moments:

"kinich? have you ever wondered why you don't have any friends?"

"anemic flying ant"

"HE'S not even a real doctor!! he's a quack!! a charlatan!!"

"were you not given toys to play with as a child? is that it?"

"go bungee jumping without the rope,"

"this is a quartet !!"

*insert literally every time he get's bitchslapped by the back of kinich's hand*

and that list will only get longer as more content is released..

you get my point im sure.

i love ajaw i need to put him in a hydraulic press and watch him bleed as he gets smushed into a meat patty.

he's such a fucking bitch.