#guess whos my least fav character is

[nes-meshno]

my take on the trend

the captions are from some teenager magazine😭

[ozsvessalius]

im like sincerely so sorry bc my most shameful flaw is that envy is one of my favorite characters in the entirety of fma which is like. listen it's genuinely irredeemable but she knew exactly what she was doing when she made envy the pinnacle of gender envy bc my non-binary ass is NOT immune to feeling the gender envy to the highest degree for that little freak

[itendtothinkalot]

certified hater

summary: jake sim’s got a new roommate. and he hates it. he hates you. until one random wednesday afternoon, you look at him with those eyes, and suddenly he’s noticing things he definitely shouldn’t. now jake’s stuck trying to ignore the fact that his least favorite person is somehow making his heart beat faster. he didn’t sign up for this. but hey, neither did you.

genre: fluff | enemies to lovers

characters: jake x f!reader

words: 15.3k

warnings: curse words, kissing i guess

a/n: based on in this economy's jake! our fav hater is back!

“Well,” he sighed dramatically, hand over his heart. “There she goes. The only decent roommate I’ve ever had. The only one who cleaned the hair out of the drain without me having to beg. Who made late-night ramen taste like a Michelin-star meal. Who laughed at my jokes, told me when my shirt was inside out, and didn’t steal my shampoo.”

His best friend rolled her eyes, already halfway up the porch steps with her bag. “Jake, we’re literally 30 minutes away. You’re going to see me every other day.”

Jake turned to Heeseung with a sunny smile. “Well…take good care of her, yeah?”

“I do take care of her,” Heeseung said, voice flat, eyes sharp.

She snorted. “I’m not being shipped off to war, Jake.”

Jungwon—boba in hand, sunglasses on, posture far too relaxed for someone witnessing emotional carnage—finally spoke.

“Alright, drama club,” he called. “Wrap it up. People are starting to stare. Mostly me. And I’m starting to lose interest.”

Jake turned to him with a deep sigh. “What’s even the point of going home? The apartment is going to feel empty.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You do realize I still live there, right?”

Jake waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, but you don’t count. You don’t talk to me. You just throw protein bars at my head and call it a meal.”

“And yet somehow, you’ve survived,” Jungwon deadpanned, like Jake was some tragic survivor of mild inconvenience. “Anyway. You got to live with your best friend. Now I get to live with mine.”

Jake froze mid-chew, narrowing his eyes. “…Wait. Wasn’t that hypothetical?”

Jungwon didn’t even look up from his phone. “No? I meant what I said. She’s moving in today.”

“She? You mean to tell me… I’m coming home to a stranger? A female stranger?”

“She’s not a stranger to me,” Jungwon said with an infuriating shrug. “Anyway. She’s chill. You’ll love her. I think.”

Jake pointed accusingly at Jungwon. “I swear if she does something annoying, I’ll—”

“You’ll do what?” Jungwon said, already walking away. “Write her a strongly worded Post-It? Sue her?”

“Ugh. First, I lose my best friend to my annoying boss now…now this? I’m going home!” he yelled, heading for his Uber. “But before I do…Heeseung,” Jake called out.

Heeseung took a slow sip of his coffee. “That’s Mr. Lee to you.”

“Yeah, I’m not calling you that when we’re off the clock and you look like a walking beige napkin.”

“This is Gucci,” Heeseung said flatly, glancing down at his designer shirt—then at Jake’s outfit. “And whatever you’re wearing is…”

Jake sneered. “Is a gift. From your girlfriend.”

“Oh. Then I love them,” Heeseung said sweetly, turning to kiss her on the lips without breaking eye contact.

Jake recoiled. “Tell your boyfriend to back off.”

“Tell your ex-roommate to get a grip.”

Jake narrowed his eyes. “I hope your new place has ants.”

And then... standing there on Heeseung’s stupidly spotless porch, watching them disappear into their stupid new house (because of course Heeseung could just casually buy a house like he was adding a new hoodie to cart), Jake squinted thoughtfully at the disgustingly perfect front yard.

Jake’s eye twitched. God, he hated rich people. To be specific, he hated Heeseung. Stealing his roommate and his best friend, just like that. Selfish bastard.

But then — just by the edge of the driveway — movement.

Tiny. Crawling. Full of untapped petty potential. Jake’s lips slowly curled into a grin.

“Well, well, well,” he murmured to absolutely no one, crouching down like a villain in sweatpants.

“Nature provides.”

Cut to twenty minutes later:

Jake crouched like a criminal in Heeseung’s yard with a plastic cup. Scooping ants off the sidewalk like he was foraging for revenge. Whispering to himself like a lunatic.

“This is what betrayal gets you, Heeseung. You bitch.”

By the time he had an entire squad of confused ants swirling around in the cup like unwilling accomplices, Jake stood up, dusted his hands off, and jogged across the lawn.

He rang the doorbell.

Once.

Twice.

Three times — annoying, spaced out, just to be a menace.

Finally — the door yanked open.

Heeseung stood there, deadpan, already exhausted. In socks. Mug of tea in hand. 

“What.”

Jake grinned, wide, sweet, feral. “Miss me?”

Heeseung blinked at him like he regretted every life choice that led to knowing Jake Sim.

“Didn’t you leave with Jungwon?”

“I was going to but…”

And then — without missing a beat — Jake yeeted the entire cup of ants straight through the doorway.

Heeseung’s eyes tracked it mid-air.

The cup landed with a hollow little plunk on the entryway floor — ants scattering like their Uber just arrived.

Heeseung stared.

“What—” Heeseung’s eye twitched. “Did you just—”

“Nature says hi.” Jake whispered.

And then?

Jake ran. Full sprint.

Cackling like an absolute child as Heeseung’s voice exploded behind him —

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Jake was already halfway down the street, gleefully texting Jungwon like a war general reporting a win.

jake: bro i did smth

jungwon: what did you do

jake: nothing much. Had fun w nature tho…lol

jungwon: wait a min…did u throw ants in their fucking house

jake: yea lol i can still hear heeseung yelling

jungwon: take a vid?

jake: i’ll snap u LOOOL

—-

It wasn’t that Jake hated new people. Well—okay. Maybe he did. A little. Just a bit.

Sure, he looked friendly — floppy hair, easy grin, that dangerously smooth voice that could charm strangers and confuse baristas into giving him extra whipped cream without asking. But deep down?

Jake Sim was a man powered entirely by routine, caffeine, and emotional damage.

At work? Immaculate. Precise. Heeseung’s best guy on every project. The guy you could trust to fix your mess without asking questions.

At home? At home, Jake Sim was powered by rage, Doritos, and spite-fuelled midnight snacking.

And nothing — nothing — disrupted that fragile ecosystem quite like a stranger invading his living space.

Jake sighed and glanced at Jungwon, who sat curled on the couch, no emotion on his face.

“You’re sure she’ll like me?” Jake asked, leaning back like he genuinely needed reassurance.

Jungwon didn’t even glance up from his phone. “Maybe she will. Maybe she won’t. I’m betting my money on the latter.”

Jake grinned, ego inflating instantly. “But I’m charming. I’m handsome. I ooze sex appeal.”

Jungwon finally looked up. Blinked. Paused.

“You’re… okay.”

Jake stared. “Okay?”

Jungwon shrugged, unbothered. “You’re like store-brand charming.”

Jake squinted. “The hell does that even mean?”

“Looks the same. Works okay. Nobody’s writing home about it.” Jungwon deadpanned. “But yeah, sure. Reliable in a pinch.”

Jake clutched his chest like he’d just been stabbed with a plastic spoon. “I am premium charming.”

Jungwon sipped his drink. “You’re aisle seven, bottom shelf, on sale for $2.99.”

Jake looked genuinely offended. “Wow.”

“Look,” he said flatly, “she’s moving in tomorrow whether you like it or not. So dust yourself off… and for the love of God, take down that thing you call art.”

He pointed lazily at The Painting. The painting that Jake did during his “I’m unemployed and spiraling” era. His “maybe I’m just like Van Gogh” phase. A little stressed, a little depressed, and unfortunately — very creative.

Except he wasn’t.

Because if Jungwon was being brutally honest (and he always was), Jake’s 36 by 36 inch masterpiece was…

A giant, aggressively well-shaded dick.

Like, museum-level shading. Art school tragedy. Anatomically correct in ways that made Jungwon genuinely concerned for Jake’s mental health.

“It’s abstract,” Jake had insisted once, dead serious.

“It’s a dick,” Jungwon had replied, dead inside.

“To you,” Jake had said, like he was Picasso defending himself in court. “To me it represents manhood. The transition from child to man.”

Jungwon stared at him. Stared at the cursed, hauntingly well-shaded disaster on the wall. Stared back at him.

"Just take it down by tonight, you moron." he muttered, already walking back to his room. "Because I am not explaining to a grown ass woman why there’s a three-foot dick staring her dead in the eyes while she’s just trying to eat her cereal."

—-

You balanced a box against your hip, car keys jingling in one hand, your phone wedged between your shoulder and ear as you stepped into the apartment for the very first time.

“You couldn’t skip one class?” you muttered into the phone, nudging the door closed behind you with your foot. “Just one? I am literally dragging my entire life through this hallway alone right now.”

Jungwon’s voice crackled on the other end. “And I am literally about to ace my quiz on post-colonial literature. We all have battles we can’t pick.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out. “I hope your professor forgets your name and ends up giving you the biggest F in history.”

“Trait—”

Jungwon cut you off with a yawn. “Anyway, key’s under the mat. Room in the back is yours. Make yourself at home. Don’t fight Jake. Love you.”

You paused mid-step. “Who?”

“Bye!” he said, then hung up like a man with no conscience.

You stared at your phone. “What do you mean ‘don’t fight Jake’?! Who’s Jake?!”

No answer. Just the echo of betrayal.

You let out a long sigh and took in your surroundings. The apartment was… livable. Clean-ish. A little too beige. Smelled like something between cologne and aggressively microwaved noodles. Classic boy territory.

Still balancing your box, you headed toward the back, where you assumed your room would be. The hallway split into two doors. One was cracked open slightly, revealing a glimpse of a desk.

You knocked once, half-hearted and awkward, and pushed the door open.

And then everything happened at once.

Music. Blasting.

Eyes. Wide.

Box. Dropped.

You screamed.

Because standing dead center in the room was a guy in nothing but boxers, aggressively dancing to Bruno Mars like he was auditioning for a boyband. 

He jumped like he'd been tasered, yanked an earbud out, and yelped, “WHAT THE HELL?! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

“WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!” you echoed back, slapping a hand over your eyes. 

“I’M NOT NAKED!”

“YOU’RE LIKE 80% NAKED!”

He grabbed a throw pillow off his bed and held it over himself like it could protect either of you from this moment. “What are you even doing in my room?!”

“Jungwon said the room in the back is mine!”

“This is my room!”

“Then label your damn doors next time!”

“You’re supposed to knock!”

“I did knock!”

“Then you wait for a response, smartass!”

“Are you serious right now?! How was I supposed to know you’d be air-humping the universe like a deranged psycho?!”

“That was choreography!”

You both stared at each other, panting like you’d just come out of battle. You took a long breath, picked up your box again, and hissed, “You must be Jake.”

His eyes narrowed. “And you must be the replacement.”

“Well,” he said, tossing the pillow onto the bed and grabbing a pair of sweats, “we’re off to a great start.”

If first impressions were anything to go by, this was going to be war.

And unfortunately, the battlefield was your new living room.

—-

You wiped your palms on your jeans, jaw still tight as you grabbed another box from the small pile by the front door. This one was heavier—textbooks, probably. Just as you turned around to haul it outside, you slammed straight into a very firm, very warm, very fully clothed chest.

You looked up. Jake.

Now dressed in a hoodie and joggers, hair slightly damp like he’d just showered the shame off. Unfortunately, he still looked obnoxiously good. Annoyingly taller than you. And, somehow, smug—which should be illegal after whatever happened earlier.

He blinked down at you. “Need help?”

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but he held up a hand.

“Unless…” He squinted dramatically. “You’re about to peep on me again, then I—”

“Peep at you?!” you hissed. “I walked into what I thought was my room and got assaulted by a hip thrust.”

He shrugged. “I was in the moment.”

“Are you always this delusional?”

Jake leaned against the doorframe like this wasn’t already a disaster. “You really can’t admit it, huh?”

“Admit what?”

“That you enjoyed the view.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my God.”

“Don’t worry,” he added, all faux-gentle. “Not everyone can handle the Full Jake Sim Experience.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You know, Jungwon warned me about you.”

Jake’s grin kicked up, cocky. “Let me guess — ‘Jake’s a little dramatic, but give it time and you’ll fall for the charm.’”

“Actually,” you said dryly, “it was ‘don’t engage, it only encourages him.’”

“That’s slander,” he declared.

“That’s advice,” you corrected. “Good advice.”

—

Jungwon slid his bag off his shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m home!” he called out, voice echoing through the apartment as he kicked the door shut behind him.

Finally. After years of joking about it, he was officially living with his best friend.

Jungwon knew the odds were low that you and Jake would hit it off immediately.

You were... you. Stubborn. Easily irritated. Quietly unhinged. But also — annoyingly kind. Thoughtful in that backhanded, "made you ramen but insulted you while doing it" kind of way.

You’d survive Jake.

Hell, maybe Jake needed to survive you.

He strolled down the hallway, humming as he knocked lightly on your door. “Yo. You alive in there?”

No answer.

He tried again. Still nothing. With a shrug, he walked over to Jake’s door and gave it a push. Open. Empty.

“Jake?”

Then, from the depths of the apartment, came shouting.

Jungwon blinked. Tilted his head. The bathroom. He padded toward the noise—and regretted it immediately.

“I was here first!” you snapped.

“No, I was here first!” Jake shot back, voice bouncing off the tiled walls.

“I had my towel in here! That’s bathroom code!” You yelled.

“There is no such thing as bathroom code, you freak!”

“Let me in! I’m going out and I have to pee!”

“Looking like that?” You sneered at Jake whose smile faded.

A long pause.

“…What’s that supposed to mean?”

You offered a polite smile. “Oh, nothing. I just thought you cared about how you dressed. But hey—good for you. You’re braver than most of the people I know!”

Jungwon closed his eyes. Rested his head against the wall. Inhaled slowly.

This was his life now.

—-

Jake sat slouched at the edge of the table, a half-spilled bowl of kimchi stew in front of him, aggressively chomping like it had personally wronged him.

Across from him, Heeseung and his girlfriend were mid–honeymoon phase nonsense—feeding each other dumplings, whispering like the rest of the room didn’t exist, giggling over god knows what as if Jake wasn’t having a full-blown emotional breakdown one seat over.

“She color-codes the pantry,” Jake snapped, waving his chopsticks like a weapon. “I left one bag of chips—one!—and she reorganized the entire cabinet. Who’s even looking in there, huh? The Pantry Police?”

“Oh—oh, and get this,” Jake ranted, mouth still half-full of kimchi. “She sends me photos of the sink. With captions. ‘This is your plate, Jake. I know it’s yours because it has your little cartoon fork on it. Like—what?! How does she even know I have cartoon forks?! Who memorizes someone’s cutlery?’”

He flailed a hand like he was being victimized.

His best friend didn’t even blink. “The real question is why you’re still using forks with tiny bears on them.”

“That’s not the point!”

“You ever thought of, I don’t know…” Heeseung finally looked up, lips shiny from dumpling sauce. “Being a better roommate instead of…an ass?”

“I’m not being an ass!” Jake protested — loud enough to startle the next table and wild enough to knock over the soy sauce dish. He scrambled to fix it with a sad napkin, still grumbling under his breath like he was the victim here.

“She’s just—she’s too clean, okay? Like robot clean. Psycho neat. I leave one hoodie on the couch and next thing I know, it’s folded, labelled, and put away neatly.” 

“It just sounds like you’re being an ass to her,” she said.

“Yeah, let’s unpack that.”

Jake squinted. “Unpack what?”

“You know.” Heeseung leaned back, annoyingly relaxed. “Why are you all…angsty and weird about her?”

“Because!” Jake snapped. Jake glared. At them. At the table. At the ceiling.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “Because?”

Then he exploded, “…Because she freaking pisses me off, that’s why!”

The table went silent.

“That’s crazy. Sounds a lot like flirting to me.”

—-

You threw yourself onto the couch with the kind of rage that could only come from enduring Jake Sim for more than ten minutes. Jungwon sat across from you, calmly chewing on dried squid like he wasn’t witnessing a breakdown.

“He leaves his stupid fucking hoodie on the couch,” you exploded, hands flailing like you were directing traffic in hell. “Like we live in a prison bunk. Like there’s no other surface in the entire apartment for his crusty-ass clothes except the exact spot I want to sit.”

Jungwon nodded slowly. Unbothered. A man built for surviving your storms.

You inhaled sharply. But oh — you were not done.

“And don’t even get me started on the pantry.” You threw a hand toward the kitchen like it personally betrayed you.

“He messed up my color-coded snack shelf. My system, Jungwon.” He raised a brow. Brave. Curious. Foolish.

“What system?”

You blinked. Offended. “My Oreos go beside the dark chocolate. That’s balance. That’s harmony. That’s civilisation. That’s how society should be.”

“But noooo—” you went on, fully deranged now, “Jake Sim, chaotic neutral in sweatpants, decides to put my Oreos between the shrimp chips and the ramen cups like he’s staging a fucking rebellion.”

“So what I’m hearing is…” he drawled, “you think about Jake... a lot.”

“Shut the hell up.”

He ignored you completely. “God, you two act like toddlers.”

“It’s not my fault,” you whined. “He’s making living here hard.”

Like breathing was fine until Jake Sim walked into the room with his stupid smug face and stupid loud voice and stupid boy smell that was weirdly clean for someone who acted like a feral animal.

“You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine to him either,” he pointed out.

“That’s only because…” you muttered.

“Because?”

“Because he’s loud and smug and he–he leaves wet towels on the bathroom floor and–”

“Because?”

“BECAUSE HE FREAKING PISSES ME OFF, THAT’S WHY!”

The room went quiet. Jungwon stared at you. You stared at Jungwon.

And then he went back to chewing his squid, completely unfazed. “Yeah,” he mumbled, “you’re definitely in love with him.”

—-

It was nearly midnight, and the apartment was quiet except for the occasional sharp screech from the horror movie playing on the TV. The lights were off, the only glow coming from the screen casting quick shadows across the room. You were curled up on the couch, blanket over your shoulders, a bowl of popcorn balanced in your lap, gripping a pillow more out of nerves than comfort — heart jumping at every sudden sound.

Jungwon was long gone—fast asleep behind his locked door like a man who knew better.

The apartment was dark. Too dark. The only light came from the TV, flickering ominously across your face as the horror movie reached its cursed little climax.

On screen, the main character was creeping down some nightmare hallway — flickering lights, suspicious footsteps, a soundtrack practically begging something to kill them. You squinted, peeking nervously between your fingers.

“Don’t open the door,” you whispered to the screen, your voice tight. “Don’t open the door, you idiot—”

On screen, the character opened the door.

You sucked in a breath, ready for the inevitable jumpscare.

And then—

“Boo.”

You didn’t even think.

You screamed at the top of your lungs. The bowl of popcorn went airborne. Your fist met something very real, very solid, and very human.

Crack.

“OW—WHAT THE FU—”

You turned mid-panic to find Jake Sim, doubled over and holding his nose, blinking like he’d just been hit by a truck.

Your jaw dropped. “OH MY GOD—JAKE?!”

He groaned loudly. “Did you just punch me?!”

“YOU SNUCK UP ON ME!”

“DO I LOOK LIKE THE FUCKING DEMON?!”

Jake pulled his hand back and stared at the red streak now smeared across his palm.

“Is that—” you gasped, eyes wide, “OH MY GOD, ARE YOU BLEEDING?”

“Yes!” Jake hissed, clutching his nose. “My face is leaking! My nose is leaking because you decided to square up with me like this was Mortal Kombat!”

You scrambled to grab tissues, knocking over a cushion and somehow stepping on your own foot in the process. “I didn’t mean to! It was a reflex! Who sneaks up on someone during a horror movie? You’re lucky I didn’t stab you.”

Jake flopped onto the couch like a man deeply wronged. “You need a warning label.”

“You need common sense.”

“You need to stop throwing hands like you’re in an underground fight club.”

You shoved the wad of tissues at him, dropping onto the couch beside him with a dramatic sigh. “Drama queen.”

“Violent rat.”

The two of you sat there, breathing hard. Popcorn crunched quietly under your sock. The horror movie still played in the background — completely forgotten.

Ten minutes later, you were sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him, chewing your lip. Jake sat slouched on the couch, ice pack pressed to his face, still sulking like you’d ruined his modelling career.

“Are you okay?” you asked, cautiously.

Jake didn’t look at you. “Physically or emotionally?”

You squinted. “...Both?”

“Physically, my nose is fighting for its life. Emotionally? I’ve seen things.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, you’re so dramatic.”

He gave you a look over the ice pack. “I googled it. I’m allowed to be dramatic.”

You snorted. “Let me see.”

“What, so you can break it again?”

Still, when you leaned in, Jake let you push his hand away.

Carefully, you touched the bridge of his nose, brows furrowed in focus. Up close like this, you were quiet for once — way too close, way too serious, and way too pretty for his peace of mind.

“It’s not broken,” you muttered, inspecting him closely. “Tragically.”

Jake huffed a laugh under his breath. “Bet you’re disappointed.”

“A little,” you admitted.

Your hand brushed his cheek as you pulled away and Jake’s brain short-circuited for a solid second.

“Okay, you’re fine. Still got your stupid face. The world can rest easy.”

He grinned lazily. “Worried about me?”

You scoffed. “I’m worried you’ll bleed all over the couch.”

You got up to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“To make you tea.”

Jake blinked. That shut him up fast.

“Chamomile?” he asked hopefully.

You groaned from the kitchen. “Isn’t that the only tea you drink?”

Silence.

Then Jake — deadpan, smug — called out, “Weird how you know that.”

You rolled your eyes. Hard. “Weird how you only drink the saddest tea on earth like an old timey British person.”

Jake snorted. “Says the girl who labels her instant noodles like they’re priceless artifacts.”

“At least I don’t treat chamomile like a personality trait.”

“At least I have a personality,” Jake shot back. “Yours starts and ends with passive-aggressive Post-Its.”

You yanked open the cupboard. “Maybe if you read them, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe if you punched fewer people we wouldn’t be here.”

There was a beat.

You grabbed a mug, muttering under your breath, “Should’ve punched harder.”

Jake, from the couch, still icing his nose, let out a scoff of disbelief.

“And yet,” he said flatly, “here you are. Making tea for me.”

You slammed the kettle down louder than necessary. “Because if I don’t, you’ll bleed out and haunt me out of spite.”

Jake leaned back, smug despite the tissue stuffed up his nose.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he called out. “If I do die and end up haunting you, I’m definitely hiding your stupid label maker first.”

—-

The next morning, sunlight trickled through the blinds, soft and golden. The apartment was quiet. Jungwon had already disappeared for his 8 a.m. class like the punctual little overachiever he was.

Which left you here.

In the kitchen.

Making the most humiliating thing of your life:

“I’m sorry I punched your nose” scrambled eggs.

This wasn’t because you liked Jake Sim. God, no. This wasn’t softness. This wasn’t kindness.

This was guilt.

Stupid, irritating, nose-bleeding guilt.

Because yeah — maybe he shouldn’t have snuck up on you like the human embodiment of a jumpscare. But also... maybe you shouldn’t have decked him like you were trying out for MMA.

Maybe.

Unfortunately, despite being fully committed to hating Jake Sim with your entire soul... you also had a functioning moral compass.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

Jake padded out of his room half-asleep, hoodie sliding off one shoulder, hair a disaster, still mentally in dreamland — following the smell of butter like a man possessed.

But then he saw you.

And whatever was left of his morning brain just... stopped.

There you were. Standing by the stove — hair pulled back messily like you hadn’t even tried, barefoot, apron cinched around your waist, that stupid little dress swaying just slightly as you moved.

It was... weird.

Soft, almost. Domestic.

Like he’d walked into someone else’s life.

You were humming to yourself, lazily stirring scrambled eggs — completely unaware that Jake had frozen in the doorway like an idiot.

And he didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t even breathe.

Because it hit him — quietly, without warning — that you were pretty.

Not just yeah, okay, she’s kinda cute when she’s not yelling at me pretty.

But actually pretty.

So pretty it knocked the rest of his words clean out of his head.

Which explained why he didn’t notice the sharp corner of the kitchen counter directly in front of him.

WHAM.

His toe slammed into the sharp corner of the kitchen counter.

“Fuck,” he whispered, staggering back like he’d been shot.

You jumped, whipping around. “Oh, you’re awake.”

Jake blinked down at you from the other side of the kitchen, still cradling his busted toe like it was your fault. His hoodie was sliding off one shoulder, hair an absolute mess, socks mismatched.

Meanwhile, you?

Hair tied up like it was nothing. That stupid little dress swishing around your knees. Making breakfast.

It was almost offensive, really.

Jake narrowed his eyes. \Why did you look... annoyingly good this morning? Since when? Since when were you this pretty?

Damn, maybe you gave him a concussion.

You caught him staring.

“What?” you snapped, holding up the plate like it was a peace treaty you immediately regretted.

He blinked, snapped out of it. “What’s this?”

“Scrambled eggs. For you.”

“Pity eggs?”

You rolled your eyes. “Consider it hush money so I don’t have to keep looking at your tragic nose bruise.”

Jake hesitated. Then took the plate — fingers brushing yours just long enough to send something stupid and sparky down his spine.

Shut up, spine.

He cleared his throat. “You didn’t poison these, right?”

“Only emotionally,” you deadpanned. “Just like I do everything.”

Jake snorted under his breath — a sound halfway between disbelief and reluctant amusement.

But then, as you sat across from him, watching him eat like you weren’t the one responsible for his new villain origin story, you shifted awkwardly.

And Jake noticed.

Hard not to, when you were never this quiet.

“Look…” you started, voice forced like you were fighting every bit of your pride. “I was talking to Jungwon, and… maybe I’ve been giving you a hard time.”

Jake paused mid-chew.

Maybe?

Maybe?

“...You broke my face.”

You glared. “It’s not broken.”

He gestured wildly. “It could be. You’re not a doctor”

You exhaled sharply. “I’m just saying... maybe we could be, like, civil.”

“Are you sure you didn’t poison—” 

“I didn’t fucking poison them, you rat.” Jake just stared at you, smug. 

You cleared your throat, adjusting your tone like you hadn’t just threatened him with breakfast. “What I meant to say was… no. I didn’t poison them. If that’s what you were worried about.”

Jake watched you from the corner of his eye — the way your dress moved, the way your ponytail swayed.

“I just feel bad, okay?” you huffed, glaring at his very tragic, very dramatic face. “That big-ass bruise on your nose’s making eye contact with me.”

Jake froze. Instantly concerned.

“...Bruise?” he echoed, voice tight.

“Yeah.”

Like a man possessed, he snatched his phone off the counter, flipped to the front camera—

And the noise he made?

Somewhere between a gasp, a dying bird, and a full-on crime scene.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, horrified. “You ruined my face.”

You blinked. “I—”

“My beautiful fucking face!”

You winced. “That’s… a little dramatic.”

Jake spun around like you’d personally ended his modeling career, shoving the phone in your face. “Do you see this?! How am I supposed to show up to work tomorrow looking like I got body slammed by Dwayne Fucking Johnson?!”

You snorted. “You literally work in tech.”

“That’s not the point!”

“I’m pretty sure it is the point,” you deadpanned. “You’re not an idol, Jake. I’m sure the CEOs will survive your mildly distressed nose.”

Jake let out a pained groan, like you just didn’t understand the gravity of his suffering. “I have a presentation tomorrow!”

You raised a brow. “Okay... and?”

“A huge one!” he cried. “Multiple CEOs. Investors from all over the country. I’m supposed to look like I have my life together. Not like I got mauled by a vending machine!”

You shrugged, zero sympathy left in your body. “Can’t your boss… what’s his name again… Hee...Heesoo do it?”

“It’s Heeseung,” Jake bit out. “And he’s in Japan for a business trip.”

“Get someone else to do it.”

“I am someone else!” he exploded, pacing now like his nose was about to file a lawsuit.

A beat of silence.

You tilted your head slowly, casually, a little too calm for his liking.

“…What if I did it?”

“...What.”

“I could present it for you,” you said, crossing your arms, your smile inching into dangerous territory. “You wear a mask, pretend you’re sick. Cough a few times for realism. I’ll read your script. Boom. Problem solved.”

You turned back around, all casual, all dangerous. “Your pitch. I could do it.”

He blinked. Once. Twice.

“Yeah, uh, no offense, Broadway, but the presentation is about app technology. Not jazz hands.”

You shrugged. “Fake it till you make it. Plus, I’m excellent at pretending I know things. Ask any of my professors.”

Jake stared at you.

Like you had absolutely lost your mind.

“You,” he said flatly, “want to stand in front of a room full of multi-millionaire investors... and pretend to know shit about app tech.”

You grinned. “Exactly.”

“That is��hands down—the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“Thank you.”

“And also,” Jake added slowly, like it pained him to admit, “possibly... my only option.”

You shot finger guns at him.

You grinned like the menace you were. “Come on, Jake Sim. Admit it. You need me.”

“Fine,” he ground out. Like the word physically hurt coming out of his mouth. “But you’re getting a crash course in app tech in two hours. No complaining.”

You shrugged, breezy, unbothered. “Sounds painfully boring. Can’t wait.”

—-

The next day, Jake had already bolted out of the apartment like his hair was on fire while shouting, “The investors are here and they brought their lawyers! I gotta g–” and then he left.

Meanwhile, you?

You were still in the bathroom, casually putting on lip balm like you had all the time in the world. Because if you were about to scam your way through a tech presentation with nothing but sheer confidence and delusion — you were damn sure going to look like someone who belonged on a Forbes list.

Or, well... the clearance rack at H&M’s attempt at one.

Were you terrified of tech investors? Absolutely.

Were you about to march in there, smile pretty, and pretend you understood whatever the hell Jake had been mumbling about for the past 24 hours? Also absolutely.

Because if there was one thing you were good at — it was faking shit.

(And pissing Jake off. But that was practically a sport at this point.)

You strutted into Jake’s workplace like you owned the building. Or were seconds away from committing tax fraud in it. Either way — heels clicking, head high, shoulders squared like you’d been bred in the wild on sarcasm and petty confidence.

The lobby was ridiculous. Floor-to-ceiling glass. Air that smelled like imported lemons and old money. A giant, abstract sculpture near the entrance that looked suspiciously like regret and cost more than your entire education. 

Upstairs, Jake checked his watch for what had to be the fiftieth time.

You’re late. 5 minutes late.

His shirt collar felt like it was conspiring to choke him, and the mask he wore (to hide the bruise you gave him) felt less like protection and more like a visual reminder that he’d been punched in the face by you.

The elevator dinged. Jake didn’t even look up at first—he was too busy internally screaming about font sizes and silently mouthing his pitch like a deranged TED Talk speaker. But then the room shifted. The air changed. Like the universe hit slow-mo.

His gaze lifted. And there you were. Jake looked up. And promptly forgot how to function. Because there you were. Walking out of the elevator like you were starring in his worst nightmare — and maybe his daydream too. He wasn’t sure anymore.

Soft curls. Glossy lips. That dress. That damn dress — classy, simple, hugging you like it was personally invested in his suffering. The type of dress that shouldn’t have been this illegal in a workplace setting but was, somehow, devastatingly so.

Jake forgot how to breathe.

Because here was the thing about Jake Sim:

He’d seen you in every possible unflattering state known to mankind.

Screaming about printer ink like it committed tax fraud against you. Hair up in a bun so chaotic it looked like it had survived a natural disaster. Wearing the same hoodie for three days straight — his hoodie, he’d realized once, which only annoyed him more — eyes wild with caffeine and vengeance at 3AM because Spotify ads kept interrupting your study playlist.

And still — still — Jake had always kinda thought you were...pretty.

Annoyingly pretty.

The worst kind.

The kind of pretty that snuck up on you mid-argument or when you were mid-rant about detergent prices. The kind of pretty that didn’t need fixing or dressing up. Just...you.

But today? Today was different. You weren’t just pretty. You were dangerous.

His jaw clenched so hard he swore he heard a crack. He couldn’t look away. Couldn’t blink. Couldn’t even think.

It was like the floor had disappeared beneath him and someone had swapped out his organs with static. His heart had ditched the beat and gone straight to drum solo. His brain, normally quick, charming, obnoxiously cocky? Dead.

“You made it,” Jake said — and immediately regretted it, because holy shit, was that his voice? High. Cracked. Betrayed him completely like puberty had just swung back around for one last revenge tour.

“Yeah, well,” you hummed, throwing him a look and gesturing vaguely to the black mask covering the evidence of your sucker punch, “figured I owed you.”

Jake nodded. Or at least he thought he did. Hard to tell.

He decided to stay silent. Because God knows what would happen if he opened his mouth again? God help him — a full-blown Ed Sheeran love song might just crawl out.

So he didn’t. He just...stood there.  Standing at the podium, you looked...ridiculous. Ridiculously good.

Like you didn’t just belong here — like you ran the place. Like you were here to pitch an app or recruit followers for a cult — and honestly? Jake wasn’t even sure which one. All he knew was… he’d probably sign up either way. No questions asked. No dignity left.

"Well, good morning, everyone,” you began, and even you were surprised by how calm you sounded. 

Jake stood in the back, blinking at you like he’d never seen you before. You were charismatic. Smart. A little terrifying. And you had the entire room hanging on your every word.

Somewhere between “LinkedIn is dead” and “our algorithm is based on actual passions, not titles,” Jake realized something horrifying. You weren’t just pretending to be good at this. You were good at this. Confident. Sharp. Effortless. 

His chest swelled — with what felt suspiciously like pride — until reality smacked him upside the head. This was the same girl who, just last night, sat cross-legged on his floor, staring blankly at his laptop and asked, with full sincerity:

"Wait… what does AI even stand for?"

Jake was still smiling like an idiot.

God, he hated to admit it — but you killed that presentation. Clean. Sharp. Smooth in a way that made him kind of want to brag about it like he trained you personally (he didn’t — he barely survived explaining what an API was to you without passing out).

A few came up to shake your hand — small talk, praise, the usual empty corporate fluff. Except no one really asked you questions. Not the tough ones, at least.

Right up until he caught movement at the edge of his vision.

Two guys. Tall. Sleek. Expensive haircuts that probably cost more than Jake’s entire outfit. Hovering. Too close. He squinted. Because they weren’t walking toward him. Nope.

They were walking toward you.

Grinning. Hovering. Talking with their hands like they were about to pitch you a deal or — god forbid — flirt. His eyes narrowed. You were still reeling from the high of the presentation, packing up your notes when a smooth voice cut through the air beside you.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” said Blondie. "Mr. Sim never mentioned someone so young... and pretty working in the App Tech department."

 “Oh, uh, I’m new,” you said, hoping you didn’t sound as awkward as you felt. “Just joined.”

Blondie smiled, clearly not buying it. “New and already giving such an impressive presentation. I’d love to hear more about the algorithm sometime… maybe over dinner?”

You blinked again. Algorithm? Was that on Slide 7?

Before you could even form a response, a voice cut in like an unexpected thunderstorm.

“She’s booked.”

You turned just in time to see Jake—Jake—swoop into the scene like a knight in wrinkled business casual. His jaw was tight, eyes practically shooting daggers. And that mask? Somehow, it made him look even hotter. You were definitely going to need therapy to figure out why anger made him so ridiculously attractive. That was something for a professional to unpack. 

“She’s what?” Blondie asked, blinking.

“Taken,” Jake said, his voice like cold steel. “I’m with her.”

Blondie’s eyes widened like he’d just been slapped with a fish. “Oh! I didn’t realize—”

Jake grabbed your hand and brought it up to his lips with a quick peck, way too casual for the situation. “Anyway,” Jake said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, “thanks for admiring my girlfriend. I, too, find her absolutely breathtaking.”

Blondie and his friend, practically evaporated under the weight of the awkwardness. They muttered quick goodbyes and slunk off, leaving you standing there, completely stunned.

“Girlfriend?” You stared at Jake, still holding your hand in his like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Jake leaned down slightly, his voice soft but pointed. “You’re welcome for saving you from that finance bro disaster. You looked like you were about to faint.”

“I was not,” you shot back, still flustered.

“You squeaked.” Jake smirked, his lips curling up in that annoying, irresistibly smug way of his. Your heart skipped a beat, but you shoved it down. He was being a jerk.

You crossed your arms, still confused by the whole situation. “You’re so weird. Why the hell would you do that?”

Jake shrugged casually, as if the whole thing had been no big deal. “Someone had to save you. I’m not letting some guy with a bad haircut flirt with you in front of me. It’s... inconvenient.”

"Inconvenient?" You stared at him, baffled. "What are you even—"

And then, like a slap to the face, it hit you.

He was jealous.

“No way,” you muttered, half-laughing. “Are you… actually jealous right now?”

Jake’s face flushed slightly, but he smirked, all smooth and defensive. "No, I just—"

You interrupted him, holding up your hand. "You are! Oh my god, you are jealous."

His eyes flickered briefly, like he was calculating his next move. “I am not. You're... imagining things.”

You leaned back slightly, giving him a teasing, incredulous look. “Right, because you not letting some guy get too close is just a totally normal response for someone you fucking despise.”

Jake paused, then looked at you with that intense, quiet stare, his expression unreadable for a moment. You felt a flicker of something in your chest, but before you could process it, he said, in a voice softer than you expected, “I don’t despise you.”

—

Jake sat across from you at the tiny grill table, doing his best to act like he didn't care that you were wearing what could only be described as the world's most unassuming dress. It wasn’t even remotely textbook "sexy." No slits, no plunging neckline, just a simple, casual thing that barely clung to you. Yet, somehow, you made it look like flawless.

You were just grilling meat, for crying out loud. Nothing remotely provocative about it. And yet, there Jake was, trying—and failing—to pretend he wasn’t completely losing his mind over it.

Then, disaster struck.

Jake’s grip on his chopsticks tightened, nearly snapping them in half. He could feel a vein pulsing in his temple. He didn't even realize he was glaring until the waiter noticed. And that’s when he realized something was very, very wrong with him.

You turned to Jake, blinking innocently. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Me?” Jake laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that wasn’t even remotely convincing. “Totally fine. Just making sure you’re not about to, y'know, set the whole table on fire.”

He shrugged off his jacket and—without thinking—slung it over your shoulders like his life depended on it.

“You look cold,” Jake muttered, trying to sound casual, but the effort was absolutely wasted.

“I’m sitting in front of an actual fire,” you pointed out, obviously not buying the excuse.

“Just take it,” he said through gritted teeth. He could feel his brain glitching as his fingers brushed against yours for half a second.

“You’re acting weird,” you muttered, clearly starting to suspect something was off. “Did you hit your head again today or…?”

“Just wear the damn thing.”

“Why?” you asked slowly, suspicious. “I’m not even cold.”

“It’s not for warmth,” he snapped, his voice tight with frustration.

You narrowed your eyes, not letting him off the hook. “So what’s it for?”

Jake leaned forward, dropping his voice to a near whisper like he was plotting a heist. “It’s... you're over there looking all... attractive, and the waiter’s looking at you like he wants to take you home. And I—” He paused and muttered, “I’m the one who invited you here, okay? So technically, you’re my dinner guest. And I just feel like you shouldn’t be—”

“Did you just call me attractive?”

Jake froze. For a split second, his mind went completely blank. He’d said it without even thinking, and now that the words were out there, the whole table seemed to get a little bit warmer, a little bit more suffocating.

“Uh—” He fumbled, trying to backpedal. “No! I didn’t—what I meant was—” He cleared his throat, awkwardly adjusting in his seat. 

You stared at him, eyes wide. “Jake... you’re an awfully jealous person today.”

He froze. Blinked. And then launched into a performance so bad it was almost impressive. “Jealous? Me? Oh my god, that’s so cute. That’s actually hilarious. I’m not jealous. You? Of you? Pfft. I just... look, I just think it’s unhygienic for strangers to salivate this close to raw meat, alright?”

He avoided your gaze and took a big gulp of his drink, probably hoping it would give him some answers. “Also, that guy was undressing you with his eyes.”

You gave him a flat look, raising an eyebrow. "And your solution to a perv is to throw a jacket over me like I’m some fragile piece of art in a museum?”

Jake kept his cool, eyes still avoiding yours. “I could go beat him up if you want,” he offered, not-so-casually.

You snorted, leaning back in your chair, slipping your hands into the sleeves of the jacket he’d thrown over you. “You're an idiot.”

—-

The next time Jake found himself questioning the entire fabric of his reality, it was in the kitchen of your shared apartment.

A totally normal evening.

Except not really.

Because you were sitting across from him in nothing but an oversized T-shirt and a smile, and Jake was experiencing what scientists might classify as a complete psychological collapse.

He wasn’t even sure what the hell the conversation was about. Jungwon was laughing about something, maybe a dumb meme or a cursed group chat screenshot, and you were giggling so hard you smacked Jungwon’s arm and nearly knocked over your drink.

Jake didn’t laugh. Jake stared.

Because every time you moved, your stupidly oversized shirt rode up a little, and your bare legs—the ones he absolutely should not be noticing—taunted him like they were sent from hell specifically to test his willpower. 

He hated it.

No, actually—he hated you. Yes. That was the correct narrative. He hated the way you always left passive-aggressive sticky notes on his leftovers ("These are MINE. I will KNOW if you eat one. By you I mean JAKE SIM."). He hated you when you reorganized his entire snack drawer by vibe. (“The spicy chips are angry. They go in the red bin.” What did that even MEAN?)

He hated that you chewed ice. That you used a ten-step skincare routine that monopolized the bathroom for thirty minutes every morning. That you once referred to him as “the reason I believe in selective mutism.”

And yet… he was currently staring at your thighs like they held the secret to inner peace.

Jake looked away, clenching his jaw. What the hell was happening to him? Was this a stroke? Had you poisoned his food?

The next time he went absolutely bonkers was a few days later. He had to pee.

He pushed the door open without knocking, because this was his house and he had…welll…he had the rights.

And then.

He saw you.

Half-naked.

In your bra and underwear, bent slightly over the sink, drying your shirt with a hairdryer.

His brain short-circuited like someone had poured water directly into his skull.

His gaze dropped—just for half a second, a reflex—and immediately locked on your bare legs, and oh god, he hated himself. He spun around so fast he almost slammed into the door.

“OH MY GOD—SORRY!” Jake yelped, one hand covering his eyes like he’d been hit with a solar flare. “You—why—WHAT—why didn’t you lock the door?!”

You blinked at him in the mirror and chuckled, totally unfazed. “Oh shit. I forgot to lock it.”

“What is wrong with you?!”

“Me? You walked in,” you pointed out.

“You left it unlocked!”

“You could’ve knocked!”

“I shouldn’t have to knock in my own apartment! What are you doing half-naked drying your shirt in here?!”

“I spilled soda on myself.” You replied, nonchalant.

“I’M THE VICTIM HERE,” Jake yelled dramatically, still not turning around. “I just wanted to pee and now I’ve seen your underwear! I’ll never recover from this!”

You laughed again, breathless. “Relax. It’s just a body. You’ve seen legs before.”

A long beat of silence passed.

Jake slowly turned his head just enough to peek at the wall. “Are you, um...decent now?”

“Yeah,” you said, tugging your damp shirt back over your head. “Crisis averted. You can resume your regularly scheduled hate.”

Jake turned around cautiously. You were grinning, cheeks slightly pink, shirt clinging a little, hair a mess—and somehow, it was worse. Way worse. Because even like this, maybe especially like this, you looked unfairly adorable.

He stared at you for one second too long.

“Jake,” you said, raising an eyebrow, “are you...blushing?”

“No,” he snapped immediately, brushing past you with all the grace of a man running from his feelings. “Now get out, I need to pee.”

As he shut the door behind him, you called out, “You’re welcome for the free show, by the way.”

Jake groaned.

Out loud.

Into the void.

He was never going to recover.

—-

It all started with what Jake would later refer to—dramatically and with full PTSD—as The Saturday Incident.

He had spent the entire day in bed, pretending to do work, but actually doing what could best be described as “vague laptop clicking” and “aggressively avoiding you.”

You were out in the living room, probably plotting new ways to rearrange the furniture or alphabetize the spices by vibe again. He wasn’t going to risk interaction. Not when his heart had started doing these strange, erratic flips every time you were near. It was disorienting, this fluttering sensation that kept taking him by surprise. Honestly, he didn’t appreciate it. Didn’t appreciate whatever the hell was happening in his chest, because he'd never felt like this before. 

The thought crossed his mind—maybe he should go see a doctor for a cardiogram. Heeseung had laughed in his face when he mentioned it, as if the idea of it being a medical issue was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Jake didn’t get what was so funny, though. All he knew was that every time you entered the room, his heart seemed to forget how to behave, and he wasn’t sure that was something anyone could just laugh off.

So he stayed hidden.

Until there was a knock.

“Jake?” Your voice came through the door—soft, almost... sweet?

He stared at the door like it had personally betrayed him.

“Jake?” you called again, this time with a tone that made his brain short-circuit just a little. He sighed like a man being forced into labor and got up, preparing for whatever minor chaos you were about to deliver.

He opened the door.

And immediately wished he hadn’t.

There you stood. In a dress—a glittery, stupidly pretty dress he had never seen before. The tag was still dangling from it, and for some reason, that made it worse. Like you were a gift waiting to be unwrapped and oh no what the hell, brain, stop right there.

His mouth went dry.

His knees? Unreliable.

You were—unfortunately—gorgeous.

“Can you help me?” you asked, turning around.

And that’s when he saw it. Your bare back.

Jake died a little. Right there in the doorway. He whispered, barely audible: “F-fuck.”

“Huh?” you looked over your shoulder.

“I said—sure! Sure, totally, yep,” he said, voice cracking like a 13-year-old boy seeing shoulders for the first time.

He reached for the zipper like it was made of lava. His fingers brushed your skin and he physically flinched. 

“You busy with work?” you asked casually, like this wasn’t slowly killing him.

“Yeah. Working. Doing... business things. Graphs.” Nailed it. “Are you, uh, going out?” He zipped faster, praying for this moment to end and also never end, confusingly.

“Nope.” You turned back around, smiling. “I just got this dress and wanted to see if it fit.”

Jake stared at you like he was watching the heavens open. “Oh,” he said dumbly.

“Besides, I was bored.” You laughed, brushing past him like this was your room, and plopped yourself onto his bed like it was no big deal.

Jake blinked. “You can’t just—don’t just walk into my room!”

“What? You hiding something?”

“Yes!” he said, voice a little too high. “I mean—maybe. You don’t know my life.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Let me guess. Secret stash of R-rated movies?”

“What?! No!”

“Love letters? Hidden shrine of an ex?”

“Oh my god.”

“Wait—you have love letters?”

“I don’t have any! Why are you like this?!”

You grinned. “Hard to believe. You’re, like, suspiciously single.”

Jake scoffed. “Suspiciously?”

“Yeah. You’re cute in a grumpy, emotionally constipated way.”

He blinked. “Did you just call me cute?”

“I mean, when you’re not yelling about laundry socks and acting like you’ve never heard of coasters.”

Jake’s face flushed. His lips twitched. A smile was fighting its way out, and he hated that you were winning. “You’re so annoying.”

“I’m a delight.”

“You’re hell personified.”

“And you,” you said, leaning back onto his bed, “are blushing.”

“I am not.”

“Jake,” you said, eyes twinkling, “your ears are red.”

He turned away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Okay, but—hold on. Why are you in my room anyway? All dressed up, all dolled up, all pretty.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Was that a compliment?”

“No.��

“You just listed three compliments,” you pointed out, your voice teasing.

“They weren’t compliments.”

“They sure seem like it.”

He stared at you—your ridiculous sparkle dress, your smug little smirk, the fact that you looked entirely too comfortable lying on his bed like you belonged there—and felt his heart do a full-body sigh.

Oh no.

Oh no.

He was in trouble.

Because he didn’t hate you at all.

—-

Jake had one goal tonight: get snacks, avoid feelings, don’t die.

He’d nearly made it to the kitchen—eyes forward, brain reciting his grocery list like a prayer—when he heard your voice.

“Jake?”

He froze like someone had hit pause on his life.

There you were, curled up on the couch with a blanket around your legs and a bowl of popcorn in your lap, looking... cozy. Cute. Normal. Like you weren’t the cause of 99% of his internal screaming today.

“Yeah?” he called over his shoulder, already bracing for disaster.

“Come watch this with me.”

Jake turned halfway, one hand still on the fridge. “What? No. Why would I wanna–”

You pouted. And he hated—hated—how fast his resolve crumbled at the sight of it.

“C’mon. Please? I’m lonely,” you said. “Jungwon’s not back for another hour.”

Jake audibly swallowed, “F–fine.”

Still, he sighed and walked over like a man approaching a guillotine.

He sat on the very edge of the couch, as far from you as possible. Like you might spontaneously explode and take him with you.

You blinked at him. “Why the fuck are you sitting miles away from me? I’m not gonna eat you.”

Jake’s ears went red so fast it was almost impressive. “I’m—just giving you space.”

You threw a popcorn kernel at him. “What, do I have cooties now?”

“No!” he blurted, then immediately regretted sounding like a panicked fifth grader. “I just thought—I mean, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You tilted your head, amused. “I thought we were pass our enemy phase and in the ‘I-only-hate-you-when-it’s-convenient-phase.”

His heart stopped.

Jake stared at you.

“We are! I just–”

You shook your head and patted the seat next to you. “Come on. You're so dramatic. Sit like a normal person.”

Jake, against his better judgment and every self-preservation instinct, scooted closer. A little. Then a little more.

You tossed the blanket over his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. “There. See? Not so scary.”

He sat stiffly under the blanket like it was radioactive, absolutely convinced he was going to die. His arm accidentally brushed yours and his brain lit up.

You leaned in slightly, focused on the screen.

Jake leaned back slightly, focused on not passing out.

And somewhere between the opening credits and the second kernel of popcorn you tossed at him “for flinching like a grandma,” Jake realized something horrifying.

He didn’t hate you.

At all.

And worse?

Instead, it was the absolute opposite. Maybe he liked you.

(Or had the biggest stinking fucking crush on you.)

Either way, these feelings were huge. And scary.

—-

Jake was fine.

Totally. Absolutely. 100% fine.

So what if he maybe thought about the way your shoulder brushed his during the movie? Or the fact that your laugh made his chest do weird twisty things? So what if you looked really cute in that dumb glittery dress and then even cuter in sweats and a bun with popcorn crumbs on your shirt?

He was fine.

No, he was lying. He was not.

Because Jake Sim didn’t do feelings.

Feelings were for wimps. For poets. For people with acoustic guitars and questionable Spotify Wrapped playlists. For people like Heeseung.

Not him.

Jake Sim was immune. Built different. Untouchable. Feelings? He left those at the door with his dignity and expired loyalty card points.

Which is why he was currently, aggressively, avoiding you like you were radioactive.

You walked into the kitchen? He walked out.

You tried to start a conversation? “I’m busy.” (He wasn’t.)

You reached for the chips? “Take it yourself.” (They were on the top shelf. You couldn’t reach. He still left.)

You asked if he wanted to hang out? “No thanks. Be alone. Bitch.” (He did not mean that. At all. And also whispered it when you were already out of earshot, afraid he’d hurt your feelings.)

He was strong. He was cold. He was emotionless steel wrapped in flannel.

Until—

“Jake?” you called from the hallway.

He glanced up from pretending to type on his laptop. “What?”

“Do you wanna go to the store with me? We’re all out of eggs.”

And like the absolute fraud he was, Jake—emotionless, avoidant, emotionally repressed Jake Sim—paused for 0.0000001 seconds before nodding.

“Yeah. Let me grab my shoes.”

Traitor.

He followed you out like a puppy who just got asked if he wanted a treat.

As you walked side by side through the aisles, Jake pushed the shopping cart like he was starring in the most generic romcom montage of all time, trying not to let his arm bump yours again because every time it did, his brain felt like it had just short-circuited.

But it was fine.

Totally fine.

He was definitely not thinking about holding your hand in the snack aisle.

Definitely not wondering if you'd let him try one of your gummies, even though he could buy his own.

Definitely not wondering if this was what it would feel like to be yours.

He wasn’t. He wasn’t thinking about any of that.

Nope.

Totally normal. Totally platonic.

He was so screwed.

It all started in the canned goods aisle. And honestly? Jake should’ve known the canned goods aisle brought nothing but bad luck. It happened in third grade when he tripped over his shoelace and fell into a container of perfectly aligned canned soups. It happened when he was trying to grab some mushroom soup for Jungwon when he was sick and ended up dropping the can right on his pinky toe, fracturing it.

And it’s happening again now.

You were just standing there, trying to decide between tomato basil and cream of mushroom, looking entirely too cute for someone who was making soup decisions. Meanwhile, Jake, trying to pretend he wasn’t watching you, was already making a mental list of things he could buy—anything to distract himself from his growing awareness that his brain was short-circuiting.

“Hey,” the guy said. “This might sound crazy, but... are you single?”

Jake turned his head so slowly you’d think someone had insulted his ancestors.

He was standing a few feet away, comparing granola bar sugar contents like a responsible adult, and now he was staring at this random man like he’d just asked to marry you in front of a priest.

You didn’t even seem fazed. You turned your head slightly, giving the guy the most nonchalant look, probably silently wondering if this guy had any idea how little he cared about his question.

Jake could feel the nerve in his temple twitch. The air between you and the guy became suffocating. Jake's hands flexed, holding onto the cart like it might need a good shove.

The guy, oblivious to the thunderstorm brewing a few feet away, “Just thought that you’re really cute, and I figured I’d ask.”

You blinked. “Oh! That’s—um—”

“She’s not,” Jake snapped, suddenly right there, standing next to you like he’d teleported in through sheer fury. “She’s very not single. Taken. Off the market. Do not pass go, do not collect $200.”

The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh... are you two—”

“Together?” Jake interrupted, smiling like it physically hurt him. “Yeah. I’m her boyfriend.”

You glanced at him, his eyes glinting with that smirk of his. And then it hit you—he was playing this way too well. A little too well. You turned back to the guy, giving a dramatic gasp.

“Oh my God,” you said, suddenly faking an epiphany. “Babe, I didn’t even realize he was flirting. I was too busy thinking about how your hair looks so good today.”

Jake twitched.

You leaned into him with an exaggerated sigh, grabbing his hand like you were in some overly dramatic rom-com. “I’m so sorry. I’ll try to pay more attention when people are flirting with me. Would that be okay with you, my Jakey-wakey? My Jakey-kins? My love machine?”

Jake nearly choked on his own spit. “Okay. That’s enough.”

But you were on a roll. You turned to the stranger, practically glowing. “Isn’t he so cute when he’s protective? Ugh, he gets so territorial over me. It’s like his thing. Next thing I know, he’ll start growling and peeing in the aisles to mark me like his territory.”

Jake made a strangled sound, clearly regretting everything. “Please stop.”

You ignored him, fully leaning into the bit. “Honestly, I’m just waiting for him to pick out a leash for me next, y’know? Just to make sure everyone knows I’m his property.”

Jake made a strangled sound. “Please stop.”

You pressed your cheek to his shoulder. “Should we kiss?” You smiled, putting your arms around his shoulder.

And then, in what could only be described as a full-blown panic move, Jake spun around and ran.

Like, actually ran.

Through the snack aisle, dodging bags of chips and disgruntled shoppers, past the sample table, and out the store doors. It was as if he'd spotted an actual threat. You stared after him, holding his dignity in one hand and a can of soup in the other.

The stranger who had been casually eyeing you looked even more confused now, as if he’d witnessed a scene from a badly written TV sitcom.

You shrugged, trying to cover for the man who was now two aisles away, “My boyfriend can be a little bit crazy,” you muttered, laughing awkwardly as you began walking toward the door. You dropped the soup can on his foot. “See you!”

And without waiting for a response, you bolted out of the store after him.

“JAKE SIM, I’LL KILL YOU!” you yelled across the parking lot.

You found him pacing next to his car like a madman who’d just come to terms with the fact that he’d let his emotions spiral in public. His hands were in his hair, tugging like he was trying to physically yank his frustration out of his brain.

You marched up to him, heat rising in your chest, and the nerve to confront him. “Hey! You made me look like an idiot!”

Jake turned to face you, eyes wide, clearly surprised that you were actually following him. “You made yourself look like that!” he snapped, a slight edge in his voice.

“Oh, I wouldn’t have to if you stopped acting like my boyfriend around any man who approaches me!” You felt your hands on your hips, standing your ground like you were the queen of this absurd conversation.

Jake’s face froze, his brows furrowing in frustration. “You want freaks like him to approach you?”

“No?” you shot back. “But I’m perfectly capable of turning them down on my own.”

“I was just—” he began, floundering for a reason that was not his own mess.

“Was just what? Why do you keep doing this? Acting all weirdly jealous and protective!” you interrupted, genuinely curious now.

Jake exhaled, turning slowly, like the weight of this conversation was about to implode on him. His voice softened, his eyes wide, clearly caught off guard by your determination. “Because…” he started, his voice lower than usual, the words stumbling out like he was wrestling with a secret.

“Because what?”

He didn’t answer.

Just stood there—hands clenched, jaw tight, breath sharp.

Then suddenly—he dropped his arms like they weighed a ton. Like he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing a single, desperate step before spinning back around to face you.

“BECAUSE!” Jake shouted, his voice louder than he intended. Your eyes snapped open wide, caught completely off guard.

Jake kept going—words spilling, frantic. “Because I don’t know what this is—whatever the hell you’ve done to me—but I can’t think straight. I can’t breathe when you look at me like that and I haven’t felt like this ever and it’s—it’s messing me up.”

His hands went to his temples. “Like fuck…I think I might need therapy. Like, actual therapy. Because of you.”

The air between you cracked—silence stretching heavy and tight.

You stared at him, voice soft now. “I– did I do something wrong?”

Jake dropped his hands, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon. His face twisted, like he hated even having feelings, like letting them out was burning him from the inside.

Then—quieter. Broken.

“No,” he said. “Fuck, no. Quite the opposite.”

You stood frozen. “What?”

He stepped closer, eyes wild, voice raw.

“I don’t know what the fuck is happening to me, okay?” Jake snapped. His voice cracked, raw and strained like it had been clawing at his throat for days.

“You walk into a room and suddenly I can’t think straight. I forget how to function. I forget what I’m doing. It’s like my entire brain short-circuits just because you looked in my direction.” He raked a hand through his hair, pacing in a tight circle like he was trying to outrun his own thoughts.

“You drive me crazy. You laugh at things that aren’t funny, and you talk like the world’s ending if you don’t say it all right now, and you never let anything go—ever—and it’s infuriating. It’s exhausting. You’re exhausting!”

He turned, pointing at you like you were the cause of every malfunction in his soul.

“I shouldn’t care if you’re cold. I shouldn’t want to punch every guy who looks at you for longer than five seconds. I shouldn’t feel like I’m being electrocuted every time you accidentally touch me. That’s not normal. That’s not me. I’m Jake fucking Sim for crying out loud!”

He paused, chest rising and falling, eyes burning into yours.

“I don’t even like people! I liked hating you! I was good at hating you! And now I can’t sleep and I can’t think and all I do is wonder what you’re doing and if you’re thinking about me too and I—”

He broke off, swallowing hard.

Then softer, hoarse:

“I don’t know what this is. But I think I’m losing my goddamn mind over you.”

You stood there. Blinking. Heart somewhere near your ankles.

Jake had just... exploded. Confessed? Kinda? In the most Jake way possible—by yelling about how much he hated that he didn’t hate you.

“…Okay,” you said slowly, like someone trying to defuse a bomb with zero training. “So, like... just to clarify… you’re not mad at me. You’re mad because you like me?”

Jake stared at you like he couldn’t believe that was your takeaway. Like you’d just handed him a banana when he asked for a pen.

“I just—like, not to make this about me,” you continued, hands half-lifted like you were talking to a wild raccoon, “but that was a lot of yelling and you kinda sounded like you were about to fight me and propose in the same breath.”

He groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Oh my god.”

You bit your lip. “So... um. Do you wanna kiss me or punch drywall? I just need to know what stage of emotional collapse we’re currently at.”

A beat.

“Like... if I lean in, am I getting kissed or concussed?”

He looked like he was seriously considering both.

You tried to smile. “I mean… thanks? For the mental breakdown, I think?”

He just blinked—still breathing like he’d sprinted through a breakup, a confession, and a public meltdown all in one afternoon.

Like he hadn’t decided yet whether to kiss you, cry, or walk into traffic.

Then, softer, you glanced up at him. Still unsure. Still trying to play it cool despite the fact that your heart was definitely trying to beat its way out of your chest.

“Like… I mean, I totally get why this would frustrate you,” you said, nodding seriously, like you were a therapist delivering a diagnosis. “Totally understandable. If I was going through what you were going through, maybe I’d be a little insane too. With, you know, healthier coping mechanisms, sure.”

Jake groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re talking too much. Do you like me or not?”

You blinked. “Wow. Okay. No trigger warning?”

“I’m at my limit.” Jake sighed.

“Yeah,” you said. “That’s… kind of obvious. You’re, like, one sentence away from combusting.”

Jake pointed at you like he couldn’t believe what was happening. “I—God, this is so embarrassing. Let’s just pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like you,” you muttered, looking away.

“You’re saying a whole lot of nothing,” he snapped.

You threw your hands up. “Well, I’m sorry I don’t have a perfectly rehearsed monologue ready! Some of us don’t process our feelings through public tantrums!”

Jake narrowed his eyes, “I yelled because I was panicking!”

“Well maybe don’t yell at someone who likes you, Jake!”

“You didn’t even say you liked me!”

“I was getting there!”

“You were stalling!”

“I was awkward!” you shrieked, pointing right back at him. 

Jake threw his hands in the air. “Why are you the one acting like you just confessed your undying love through a full-blown breakdown?!”

A beat.

Silence.

Your faces? Bright red. Breathing like you just finished a cage match.

Then you exploded.

“FINE. YES. I LIKE YOU TOO, YOU PSYCHO!”

Jake froze. “You what now?”

You looked away, furious with yourself. “You heard me. I’m not repeating it. Take the win and choke on it.”

“That was the worst love confession I’ve ever received.”

You glared at him. “It wasn’t supposed to be one!”

“Well, it was horrible.”

“Yeah? Yours wasn’t exactly sonnet material either.”

You stared at each other. Still angry. Still flushed. Still… weirdly too close.

And somehow, despite all the yelling, all the sniping—

There was that thing in the air again. That pull.

Jake blinked. “...So are we dating now or what?”

You groaned. “Not like this, the fuck”

—-

The silence in the apartment was deafening.

Not literal silence—the kettle was whistling like it was being paid to, and someone’s phone was playing a YouTube video just loud enough to be irritating. But the emotional silence? The thick, suffocating, “we confessed our feelings and now we don’t know how to human anymore” kind of silence? Yeah, the two of you were losing it.

You were standing in the kitchen, arms folded, staring at the toaster like it had personally wronged you. Jake was sitting on the couch, holding a mug he wasn’t even drinking from, eyes glued to the television pretending to be absorbed.

Neither of you spoke.

The toaster clicked. You jumped like you’d been shot.

The two of you glanced at each other. You blinked at him. He blinked back. 

Then immediately looked away, sipping his mug. The wrong end of the mug.

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re drinking from the side with the tag still in it.”

“I like the taste of paper sometimes,” he said without looking at you.

You tried. “So... uh, did you sleep okay?”

Jake nodded way too fast. “Yeah. Great. You?”

“Fine.”

“Cool.”

You stared at each other for another five seconds.

Then, at the exact same time:

“So, what are you—” “Do you want—”

Silence again.

You turned back to the counter, flustered. “This is so weird.”

Jake exhaled sharply. “You think?”

You glanced at him. “Well, I’m not used to openly... liking you or being I guess civil.”

“You’ve done a great job hiding it,” he muttered.

You smirked, falling back on habit. “Well, I am cuter when I’m emotionally unavailable.”

“I think it’s scarier when you’re emotionally available.”

You turned, arms folded. “So what, you prefer when I threaten you with kitchen utensils?”

Jake shrugged, leaning against the counter like he wasn’t seconds away from combusting. “At least I knew where I stood.”

And that? That shut you up real quick.

Because you both knew—you’d just entered new, terrifying, heart-melty territory.

And neither of you had a clue what the hell to do next.

—-

There was a sock on the floor.

A sock. On the floor.

His sock.

White. Crumpled. Mocking you from the hallway.

Something inside you snapped.

“SIM JAEYUN!” you shrieked, the kind of full-volume yell that summoned the fury of every past version of you who’d ever tripped over that man’s laundry.

Jake’s door opened slowly, like even it was afraid of you. He peeked out. Hair messy. Shirt hanging loose. Clueless. Hot. You hated him.

“...Yeah?”

“HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU TO PICK UP YOUR SOCKS—”

“I—”

“You what? This isn’t the first fucking time–”

“Ah, fuck it.”

You didn’t get to finish.

Jake stepped out. Two fast, easy strides.

And he kissed you.

Hard.

His hand found the back of your neck, fingers pressing gently yet desperately, as if he’d been aching for this moment, pulling you closer with a sense of urgency that couldn’t be ignored. Without hesitation, his lips met yours—no gentleness, no grace—just raw, impulsive need.

The hallway blurred.

You gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound whole. His other hand gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, like he needed your body to make sense of the chaos in his head. The kiss was hot and heavy, all teeth and tongue and emotion that neither of you had known what to do with until now.

Your hands clenched around the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him even closer, as if you were trying to tear the tension from his chest and claim it for yourself. Jake’s groan vibrated against your lips—low, desperate, and filled with something completely unrestrained. His hands dug into your waist, his grip tightening as if he couldn’t get enough of you. And then, with a sudden shift, he moved—forward, desperate, no longer willing to hold back.

In one swift, breathless motion, Jake pressed you against the wall, his body caging you in with just enough force to knock the air from your lungs. His hand gently cradled your jaw while the other slid down to catch your wrist, his fingers locking with yours as if the touch was a lifeline, something he couldn’t let go of even if he tried.

You gasped, the back of your head colliding softly with the wall, and Jake swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss like he was trying to consume you whole. The kiss turned hotter, more frantic—lips pulling, chasing, moving with an intensity that had been building for weeks and was now unleashed all at once.

Then, you squeezed his hand. Hard. Your body trembled with the force of it, like you needed something to hold onto before you lost yourself. And Jake felt it—felt the desperation in your touch. Without hesitation, he squeezed back, his thumb brushing over yours as he refused to let go.

For half a second, his forehead rested against yours, both of you gasping for air, and neither of you willing to pull away.

You blinked up at him, your mind still spinning from the kiss, disoriented.

“…I’ll pick it up,” you whispered, your voice softer than you intended. “The socks.”

You bent down, still avoiding his gaze, grabbing the sock off the floor. “Just... just put it nicely next time.”

You turned and walked back into your room, your legs unsteady as if they could no longer hold you together.

Jake stood in the hallway, frozen, his heart racing, his mind completely blank. He gripped the wall beside him like it was the only thing keeping him from collapsing. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. But it did. And now, he had no idea what to do with it.

—-

Jake hadn’t screamed your name like that since the glitter explosion 2 months back.

“WHERE’S MY RED FOLDER?!” he bellowed.

Before you could even think of a way out of this—or how to hide under the floorboards—Jake barged into your room. Hair still wet from the shower. His shirt hanging half-buttoned, like he’d walked straight out of a webtoon. Fuck, he was sexy. Not the time though because you were sure you were about to get beaten up.

He slammed the door open so hard that it bounced back off the wall with a sickening thud.

You gave him a nervous smile, your best attempt at pretending you weren’t about to die. “Don’t be mad…”

Jake’s voice dropped to a dangerous growl. “What did you do?”

“I… might’ve thought it was old,” you said, wincing at the honesty in your voice. “So I kinda... threw it away?”

Jake’s body went rigid. His eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“You what?!”

“I—” You stammered, hands raised defensively. “I swear it looked all crumply, all old and–and–and ruined!”

Jake stepped forward, eyes burning with anger. You could feel the heat of his fury radiating off of him—jaw clenched, fists tight by his sides, like he was about to explode. You knew this look. It was like he was one wrong move away from detonating.

And just when you thought the situation couldn’t get worse, you did the only thing you could think of.

You threw yourself at him.

Your hands grabbed his shirt, and before he could even get a word out, you yanked him down, your lips slamming into his with the force of a thousand thunderstorms. It was hard, urgent—so intense, so sudden, that it instantly shut him up.

Jake froze for a split second, like you’d short-circuited his brain, and then, just like that—he kissed you back. No hesitation. No holding back. You were already moving, pushing him backwards, your arms locked around his neck, drawing him closer, deeper. His lips tasted like desperation, like need, and it was all consuming.

You kissed him with everything you had, no holding back. No gentleness. Just the kind of hunger that had been building up between you two for far too long. Your lips moved together, fast, messy, and you felt him press into you, desperate to keep up. Every part of you wanted him—wanted him to feel the frustration, the desire, the rage that had been bubbling under the surface for weeks.

Jake groaned into your mouth, his grip on your waist tightening. You kissed him harder, faster, pressing him back against the wall until he was pinned, his breath ragged as you both gasped for air.

His hands found your thighs and, without a word, you jumped. Legs wrapping around his waist, you felt him catch you effortlessly, your bodies moving as one.

Then, with a sharp turn, he slammed you against the nearest wall, his lips never leaving yours. The kiss was relentless, like he was starving, like he needed to make you feel every part of him, every inch of his desire. His grip on your waist was bruising, possessive, and you responded in kind, tugging at his hair, pulling him closer.

Your mouths collided, chasing each other, moving too fast, too clumsily. 

Jake pulled back only when you both couldn’t breathe anymore. Your foreheads rested together, breaths uneven, eyes wild and hungry.

He looked you over once, placed you back down on the floor, his expression unreadable, and then muttered, “...I’ll just rewrite it.”

And before you could process it, before you could say a word, he was gone. Leaving you breathless, in your own room, utterly wrecked—staring at the spot where he'd just completely destroyed every last bit of control you had.

—-

You were standing in the kitchen, Jake was at the sink, and the tension was so thick you could practically slice it with a knife.

“I don’t understand why you would move the dishes,” Jake snapped, gesturing like you’d committed an actual war crime. “I have a system.”

“You have no system,” you shot back, holding a spatula like a sword. “You just shove stuff in and pray the dishwasher works it out like divine intervention.”

“It does work it out!”

“Really? Because last week you melted a Tupperware lid onto a knife.”

“That was ONE TIME—”

You threw the dish towel down. “You’re such a control freak.”

Jake turned, dripping wet hands mid-air. “You alphabetized the seasoning rack. By aesthetic. I had to Google what "sage green" looked like.”

You huffed. “It’s about visual peace, Jake!”

He took a step closer. “You know what���s not peaceful? Living with a freak who organizes our spices!”

You stepped toward him, eyes locked, breathing hard. “Well you know what’s not sexy? Whining about spice jars!”

“Funny,” Jake growled, now chest to chest with you, “because I still want to kiss you right now.”

You both froze.

You were both holding something—him, a mug. You, a spatula. Neither of you blinked.

Then—at the exact same time—you both dropped them.

Clatter.

And lunged.

You collided in the middle of the kitchen, your mouths crashing together, the kiss so intense and fiery it felt like it could set the room on fire. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you into him like he couldn’t get close enough. You fisted your hands in his shirt, yanking him even closer, until there was nothing between you but shared breaths and weeks of pent-up frustration.

His kiss was desperate, furious, like he hated how much he wanted it, and yet couldn’t stop. Your lips moved together, teeth clashing, and you met his passion with equal intensity—biting his lip, tilting your head, the quiet sigh you let out making him groan into your mouth.

You were both angry, breathless, and so far gone you didn’t even care.

When you finally pulled apart, your noses brushing, your lips swollen and tingling, you both just stared at each other. Your hearts pounded.

Then, at the exact same time, you both asked, “...Are we boyfriend and girlfriend or what?”

There was a moment of silence, and then Jake pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, and then your neck, before pulling back with that signature smirk.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I think we are.”

You grabbed the front of his shirt, yanked him back down, and kissed him again.

“Good. Now shut up and kiss me.”

Jake groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding to your back, pulling you even closer.

“God, I’m so in love with you, it’s actually disgusting,” he muttered, his voice full of both frustration and affection.

And for once, you couldn’t agree more.

—---

It was your first official date.

Like—an actual, real, human-first-date. No yelling. No post-argument makeouts. Just food. Chairs. Maybe eye contact if you were feeling brave.

You’d been dating for three days.

Which, so far, had consisted of:

Yelling at each other.

Making out.

Rolling your eyes at each other.

Making out again. Repeat steps 1–4.

Three days of chaotic tension. Of brushing shoulders in the hallway and pretending it didn’t set your whole body on fire. Of accidentally calling him “babe” and then gaslighting him into thinking he misheard you. Of Jungwon asking the two of you to shut up and stop arguing in the middle of the night. You weren’t arguing. 

Three days of sharing the sink like civilized people, brushing your teeth side by side, totally normal, totally casual—totally not internally spiraling over the fact that your former arch-nemesis was now your boyfriend.

And then there were the quiet moments.

Like this morning, when you walked into the kitchen to find him already making coffee. He handed you a mug—black, just the way you liked it—and pretended he didn’t notice the way your fingers brushed.

You stared at it.

“What?” he said, avoiding eye contact. “I’m not a monster.”

You took a sip. “So you’re being nice to me now?”

Jake shrugged. “Don’t get used to it. I just don’t want to date someone who’s chronically dehydrated.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re worried about my water intake while you eat chips for breakfast.”

“Those chips had lime on them,” he said. “That’s vitamin C.”

Still, later that day, he also handed you a granola bar before you left the house. No comment. Just tossed it at your head with alarming accuracy and walked away.

And that was your boyfriend.

You, of course, were no better.

Like last night, when you walked past his room and saw him still hunched over his desk, blue light glowing off his face, glasses crooked, typing like he was trying to physically punch a thesis into existence.

You didn’t say anything.

Just stood there in the doorway for a second, watching the way his brows were furrowed in that hyper-focused, very-stupid, very-Jake way.

Then you glanced at the time. No dishes in the sink. Nothing in the trash.

He hadn’t eaten all day.

You scowled, muttered something about “men and their lack of survival instincts,” and turned straight into the kitchen.

Fifteen minutes later, you dropped a steaming bowl of his favorite ramen next to his laptop without saying a word.

Jake blinked up at you. “Did you—?”

You didn’t look at him. “Don’t pass out. It’ll be annoying to carry your unconscious body.”

Then you left.

Fast.

Too fast for him to say thank you. Too fast for him to see the way your lips twitched just slightly at the corners.

And then…

The next day, you were minding your business, scrolling on your phone, sprawled on the couch like the world owed you peace, when Jake casually walked in and dropped himself beside you—close, but not too close.

He cleared his throat once. Then again. Dramatically.

You glanced at him. “Are you dying?”

“Not today,” he said. Then added, without looking at you, “Wanna hang out tonight?”

You blinked. “Out where?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Somewhere with food. Lighting. Chairs. That’s usually what dates have, right?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Was that you asking me out?”

Jake didn’t flinch. Just sipped his drink. “Depends. You gonna say yes?”

You stared at him for a long beat.

He stared at the wall like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

Then, you smirked. “Only if you promise not to talk about tech stuff the whole time.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, lips twitching into a grin. “If you’re lucky, I’ll limit myself to only mentioning API twice before dessert.”

You squinted. “You’re really bad at this whole romance thing, aren’t you?”

He grinned back, impossibly confident. “And yet, here you are. Saying yes anyway.”

You rolled your eyes, your lips threatening to betray you with a smile. “Yeah, well, I make questionable decisions sometimes.”

Jake nudged your knee with his, grinning like he’d just won a gold medal. “You’re about to make another one. I’m picking you up at seven.”

You crossed your arms, trying to look unimpressed. “We live together.”

Jake leaned back, completely unbothered. “So? I can’t be romantic?”

You didn’t argue.

God help you.

You were kind of excited.

—-

This was your first date.

And you were spiraling.

You had changed your outfit three times. Reapplied your lip balm five. Stood in front of the mirror giving yourself a pep talk like you were about to go on national television.

Jake was downstairs.

Wearing cologne and Jake never wore cologne.

When you finally met him outside, Jake blinked at you like you'd just materialized from a dream. His eyes widened, then quickly darted away, as if he could avoid the full force of your impact.

“You clean up okay,” you teased, trying not to smile too wide.

He opened his mouth, clearly trying to recover, but it came out wrong. “You look... pretty.” He froze, his face turning a shade of red that should’ve been illegal. Then he scrambled, “I mean, uh, shitty.”

“I heard you the first time, Jake,” you said, tapping his face lightly, almost affectionately. “So do you.”

—-

“Stop stealing my fries.”

“I’m not stealing. I’m redistributing.”

“Stop that! It’s not my fault I ordered curly fries and you got regular fries.”

“And I regret it. Let me live.”

You were about to launch into a full rant about Food Boundaries when your foot brushed his under the table. Then his knee. Then his thigh.

Neither of you moved.

And then—like gravity just snapped—you were both leaning over the table. French fries abandoned. Eyes locked. Breaths syncing. Heat crawling up your neck.

Jake reached out, brushed a hair from your cheek, his fingers lingering just a second too long.

You stared at his lips. He stared at yours.

Oh, you were so going to kiss in this grimy diner booth, and it was going to be beautiful and stupid and you didn’t even care.

And then—

“Well, well, well.”

You both froze.

Standing next to the table, milkshake in hand, eyes wide with the smuggest expression on Earth: Jungwon.

Jake sat up like someone just caught him cheating on a test.

You blinked. “Jungwon! Hi! What a surprise!”

Jungwon glanced between the two of you. The blushing. The weird knee situation. The shared fries. The vibes.

He sighed, long and dramatic.

Then took a sip of his milkshake and said—

“Fuck. Now I gotta move out.”

And with that, he turned and walked away.

Jake looked stunned. You stared after Jungwon in horror.

“Do you think he’s gonna tell everyone?” you whispered.

At that exact moment, both your phones buzzed in unison—a notification from Jungwon’s Instagram, tagging both you and Jake.

“That answers our question.” Jake replied.

You looked at him.

He looked at you.

And under the flickering diner lights, knees still touching under the table, Jake reached across and laced his fingers through yours.He glanced at your intertwined hands, then at your face.

“God. I think I actually really like you.” he muttered, like it physically pained him.

You didn’t even blink.

“I hope the fuck you do. I’m literally your girlfriend.”

Jake groaned, slumping back into the booth like you just personally ruined him.

“This is so humiliating.”

You grinned, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah. For you.”

[pleasureable]

Pink Goes Well with Purple

Summary - After entering in a series of death games, a popstar fallen from grace finds comfort in a certain purple haired stranger.

Warnings - mentions of reader having pink hair (hence the title lol), ooc Thanos?, bad writing, please excuse any grammatical errors, this is pretty short

A/N - this is my first ever attempt at writing fanfiction for a character so I know this story might be hot ass, I just really wanted to jump on the Thanos bandwagon since he's one of my favs from this season and there's not enough fics on here for him to quench my thirst lol

Once a universally loved popstar, the emotional distress caused by the separation from your ex-boyfriend caused you to fall down a rabbit hole of sex and drugs, not to mention the $70,000,000 lawsuit you were slapped with after punching a paparazzi for putting his camera just a tad bit too close to your face. The heavy fallout from the legal battle was enough to make the whole world turn its back on you. Essentially blacklisted from the industry as a whole, you were desperate to rebuild your image (or at least get your money back) in any way you possibly could.

That's when you were approached by a man in a suit offering you $100,000 if you beat him in a game of ddakji. Managing to win 2 out of the 3 games played, you were given your $200,000 as promised by the suit-clad man standing before you.

"You know, I have a simple solution to your debts." he said. You were confused as to how he knew you had debts, you didn't recall mentioning your financial situation to him, at all. You tried to brush his comment off, maybe he had seen your name in a tabloid mentioning your lawsuit somewhere and he recognized you.

"How do you know I'm in debt?"

No answer, he just pulled a card out of the inside pocket in his suit and handed it to you. "We don't have many spots left so if you're interested, please call us as soon as possible." Then, he was gone.

You spent the rest of the day looking at the brown business card given to you, you took notice of the shapes that were on the front of it. The simplistic design of the card was weirdly intriguing. On the back, a phone number. On one hand, you didn't want to be wasting your time. On the other hand, you needed money in order to rebuild your life. So, this could either be the biggest scam or the biggest blessing of your entire life.

Fuck it, you dialed.

You didn't really know it at the time, but that phone call would unleash a chain of events that would change your life, forever.

That's how you winded up in the situation you were in now. Transported to a room designed to simulate a courtyard, a giant doll on the other side of the room.

Suddenly, you heard a voice come up from behind you, "Hey señorita" the deep voice spoke. Turning your head around, your eyes were met with the sight of a tall, purple haired man. "Knew I recognized that pretty pink hair from somewhere. You're that singer that socked that paparazzi guy in the face; Y/N, right?"

"Yes, Y/N. Who are you?" I said back. "You don't know who I am?" He said, a twinge of pretend hurt in his voice. "Am I supposed to?" You always had a slight dislike for people who expected everyone to know who they were. Clearly, this guy was one of those people.

"No, but we can get to know each other. Tell me about yourself, beautiful."

"Are you flirting with me?" a slight smirk began to form on your face. While his attitude was a bit off-putting, he was pretty cute.

"Yo, pink hair, you're so fine

like a bouquet of flowers, all intertwined

You're the rose to my thorn, the petal to my stem

Red, orange, yellow, green

I'm a legend, Thanos"

You giggled at his comically bad attempt at freestyling. "Thanos, huh? I guess that would explain the purple hair. Although, you're not as hideous as the titan."

"I'll take that as a compliment, petal."

Masked men wearing pink jumpsuits began to round up every other person who was dressed in the same blue-green sweatsuit as you and Thanos; you did a quick head count, confirming the amount of people to be about 400. Once a female voice on the intercom explained that you were all going to participate in a game of Red Light Green Light, the big robotic doll began to recite the games' chant.

Red light, a bee had landed on the neck of the girl standing in front of Thanos while the doll was scanning the room for movement. ''There's a bee on you, don't freakout." Instantly, the girl began to swat at her neck in an attempt to get the insect off. While the scene unfolding was slightly amusing to watch, your heart felt like it had stopped once a single bullet pierced her forehead. Her blood had splattered onto Thanos's face, and you watched as his face dropped once her body hit the ground.

Green light, Thanos picked up his cross-shaped necklace and opened it, revealing an array of colorful, circular pills. "Want one, petal? They'll help you relax." Red light, you stood still while staring at the pills in his hands; you had been clean for a little over 3 months now, but pill popping had never sounded better. "Fuck it, give me one."

Green light, he quickly placed a blue colored pill in your hand then grabbed an orange pill for himself. He grabbed your hand and started to lead you both further across the courtyard. Immediately, you began to feel the effects of the mysterious pill you had just ingested. As you continued to advance through the game, your vision became nothing but a colorful kaleidoscopic blur. The sudden energy burst allowed you and Thanos to quickly cross the red finish line, jumping, dancing, and twirling together on the way there.

After the game was over, the remaining players were all taken back to the room where your bunk beds were. You and Thanos were standing against a wall together, giggling at seemingly nothing. "Stick with me from now on, petal. I'll protect you." He said, finishing his statement off with a playful wink. "THE Thanos wants to protect me? Wow, I'm so fucking lucky" you chuckled. "I'm serious! I wouldn't want anything to happen to my flower now, would I?"

You just looked at him with a slight smile. His nickname for you made you blush, your cheeks taking on a subtle hue that matched your hair. He had such a way with words, you couldn't help but be totally charmed by him. "Fine then, let's team up. Thanos the Mad Titan and Y/N, Popstar Fallen from Grace; world's greatest duo." Your words made him smile like an idiot. He loved your company already.

"Of course we're the world's greatest duo. Pink goes well with purple, petal."

[mya-valentine]

Hi! it's me again! I'd like to request a few genshin men/boys and most of them are my favs like at least like 14 of them😂 fluff please

I wanted to request a Diluc, Razor (it's fine if you don't do him, but I'm pretty sure he's at least 16 or 17) Xiao, Wanderer, Cyno, Al Haitham, Neuvillete, Kinich, Ororon (there's lack of Ororon love) and Dainsleif. I wanted the headcannon to be like:

their friends asking fem!reader: What do you see in him?

reader: he makes me laugh

i wanted to see this kind of headcannon for so long (i hope it's okay if i can request this much character😅)

Headcanon: He Makes Me Laugh

Diluc

At a cozy café in Mondstadt, you and your friends sit around a small table, sharing stories over steaming cups of tea. One of your friends leans in, eyebrows raised. “Diluc? Really? What do you see in him?”

You take a moment to think, a smile creeping onto your face. “He makes me laugh,” you finally reply.

Your friends exchange skeptical glances. “Diluc? The serious, brooding one? How does that even work?”

You lean back in your chair, recalling a recent night at the tavern. Diluc had been tending bar when a customer made a ridiculous drink request. With a straight face, he had leaned over to you and said, “If I serve one more ‘secret drink’ request, I might just invent a potion to erase memories of it.”

You burst into laughter, and he shot you a quick, playful smirk, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. The moment had felt electric, a fleeting glimpse of the softer side he rarely showed anyone else.

As you reminisce, you can’t help but grin, feeling warmth in your chest. “He’s got this dry wit that surprises me. You just have to know where to look.”

One friend rolls her eyes. “Okay, I can see it. But how do you get him to show it?”

You shrug playfully. “Maybe he just needs someone to break through the brooding exterior.”

Diluc, standing nearby, overhears your laughter and smirks, catching your eye with a knowing look, as if he appreciates the affection behind your words.

Razor

Your friends are gathered in your room, sprawled on the floor as you all catch up. Suddenly, one of them narrows their eyes and asks, “You’re with Razor? What do you even talk about?”

You can’t help but giggle at the question. “Oh, you have no idea. He makes me laugh!”

Your friends exchange confused looks. “Razor? The one who spends all his time with wolves?”

You nod, recalling a beautiful morning walk you took with him through Wolvendom. “The other day, we were watching the sunrise. He looked at it, wide-eyed, and said, ‘Looks like egg yolk spilled.’ And then he asked, ‘Why do people say ‘crack of dawn’? Dawn don’t break…’”

Your friends burst into laughter, imagining Razor’s serious face juxtaposed with his innocent, childlike observations.

“He’s not trying to be funny, but he has this way of looking at the world that’s just… refreshing,” you explain, a soft smile on your lips as you think about him.

One friend grins, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, I guess if you’re into that… unique perspective.”

Razor, who has been listening from the doorway, looks a bit confused but intrigued. “I like egg yolk. It is good food,” he adds earnestly, causing another round of laughter.

Xiao

In a quiet corner of Liyue Harbor, your friends sit across from you, disbelief painted on their faces. “Xiao?” one asks, incredulous. “But he’s so… intense and brooding! What do you see in him?”

You chuckle, leaning back in your chair. “He makes me laugh,” you respond, shaking your head at their expressions.

Your friends exchange skeptical glances, clearly struggling to understand how someone as serious as Xiao could ever be funny. “Seriously?” one of them challenges. “How?”

You remember a day when you and Xiao were training together on the mountain. As you stumbled over a loose rock, he caught you just in time, and without missing a beat, he said, “Are mortals always this clumsy?”

You had burst out laughing at his deadpan delivery, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “He doesn’t mean to be funny, but his honesty is refreshing,” you explain, smiling at the memory.

Your friends nod, starting to see your point. “Okay, I can see how that would be amusing.”

Just then, Xiao approaches, overhearing the conversation. He raises an eyebrow. “You laugh a lot around me. Is that good?”

You grin, meeting his gaze. “Absolutely! It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

Xiao looks slightly flustered but turns away, a hint of a smile breaking through his usual stoicism.

Wanderer

Strolling through a quiet clearing with your friends, one of them shoots you a concerned glance. “So… Wanderer? The same guy who’s known for his prickly attitude? What exactly do you see in him?”

You smirk, already used to the question. “He makes me laugh,” you say simply.

They look skeptical, one raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same guy?”

You nod, smiling at the memory of a recent encounter. Wanderer had once muttered something about the “absurdity” of people who thought they knew everything about him. He’d followed it up with, “Honestly, they know less about me than that rock does about erosion.” He’d pointed at a boulder, then turned to you, daring you to laugh. But you couldn’t help it—you cracked up, and he’d rolled his eyes, but with the faintest hint of a smile himself.

Your friends seem taken aback. “Wait, Wanderer said that?”

Just then, Wanderer appears, crossing his arms as he approaches. “Are you sharing my profound observations with these mortals?” he asks, feigning annoyance, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he glances at you.

You grin, meeting his gaze. “I can’t help it. You’re just so funny.”

He scoffs, muttering something about “annoying people,” but the faintest smile betrays him, earning a knowing look from your friends.

Cyno

After a long day, you and your friends gather at a cozy teahouse. One of them finally leans in with a curious look. “Cyno, though? Isn’t he a little… intense? What do you see in him?”

A grin spreads across your face as you think of Cyno’s well-meaning, if occasionally dreadful, sense of humor. “He makes me laugh.”

Your friends look surprised, clearly doubtful. “Cyno? Are you sure? He’s the General Mahamatra!”

You laugh at their disbelief. “Yes, that Cyno. Once, he tried to tell me a ‘joke’ about Teyvat’s elemental reactions. ‘Did you know Pyro and Hydro make steam…y results?’” You can’t help but laugh at the memory, and your friends blink at you, processing.

Then one snickers, and another gives in. “Okay, that’s actually—unintentionally funny.”

As if summoned, Cyno appears at the table. “Did I hear mention of… humor?” he asks with utmost seriousness, casting a proud look your way. “I have another one. What did the dendro traveler say to the withering zone?”

You grin knowingly, but your friends glance at each other nervously. “What?” they ask in unison.

“‘Leave it to me,’” Cyno deadpans, straight-faced. You burst out laughing, your friends struggling to hold back their smiles. Cyno raises an eyebrow, satisfied. “See? I told you humor is a valuable asset.”

Alhaitham

Gathered at the Sumeru Library, your friends can’t hide their disbelief. “Alhaitham? What do you even see in him?” one of them exclaims, shaking her head.

You grin, leaning back in your chair. “He makes me laugh.”

“Really? The stoic scholar?” they ask, bewildered.

You reminisce about a quiet evening when you found him deeply engrossed in a book. You had asked, “What’s so interesting?” He glanced up and replied, “The existential dread of characters in fiction is quite entertaining. They can’t even do anything about it.”

His deadpan delivery made you laugh, and he’d raised an eyebrow, confused by your reaction. “You find that funny?” he’d asked, genuinely perplexed, which only made you laugh harder.

Your friends start to nod, clearly amused. “Okay, maybe he has a point there.”

Alhaitham, overhearing your laughter, approaches with an amused glint in his eye. “I see you’re discussing literature. Should I be concerned?”

You shake your head, smiling. “Only if you’re worried about being funny.”

He smirks, unfazed. “Then I have nothing to worry about.”

Neuvillete

In the refined atmosphere of Fontaine’s opera house, your friends question your attachment to Neuvillette, the reserved Chief Justice. “So, what do you see in him?” one friend asks, an eyebrow raised. “Neuvillette’s so… solemn. He barely smiles.”

You chuckle, casting a glance at the grand stage. “But that’s the thing. He makes me laugh when I least expect it.”

Your friends exchange looks, clearly unconvinced. “Really? Neuvillette?”

You nod, remembering a moment from an evening much like this one. Neuvillette had been watching an opera, his typical composed expression in place, when he leaned over and whispered, “I find it curious that, despite its grandeur, this aria is about a fish lamenting her lost pond. Dramatic, isn’t it?” His understated humor and subtle wit had made you stifle a laugh, though he looked pleased with your reaction.

One friend’s eyes widen in surprise. “Wait, he actually jokes? In his own way?”

At that moment, Neuvillette arrives, having overheard the conversation. “I merely observe the world as it is,” he says with a faint, almost invisible smile. “I trust I’ve provided adequate amusement?”

You smile up at him warmly, while your friends look at each other, slowly starting to see his appeal. “Yes,” you reply, reaching for his hand. “You certainly have.”

Kinich

As you and your friends stroll through the bustling markets, one of them nudges you, raising an eyebrow. “So… Kinich? He’s got that cold, intense vibe. What do you see in him?”

You chuckle, picturing the man who, beneath his pragmatic exterior, occasionally revealed a dry, clever humor that caught you off guard. “He makes me laugh,” you reply, smiling.

Your friends blink, visibly unconvinced. “Kinich? The Kinich? The guy who talks like every word is a business contract?”

“Trust me, he’s funnier than you think.” You recall a time when you had teased him about always being so serious. He had given you a mock-stern look and said, “Seriousness is simply efficiency applied to communication. If I were to, say, laugh needlessly, it would be inefficient—unless, of course, you think I’m funny?” His tone had been deadpan, but you had caught the sparkle in his eyes, which only made you laugh harder.

One of your friends scoffs, half amused, half disbelieving. “He’s secretly funny? Now that I have to see.”

Just then, Kinich appears, drawn by the sound of laughter. He stands with his usual composed expression, his gaze steady as he glances at you. “Am I interrupting?” he asks, though his eyes linger on yours with a warmth your friends would never guess at.

“Not at all,” you reply, a mischievous smile on your lips. “We were just talking about how funny you are.”

A single brow arches, and he replies smoothly, “If efficiency in humor is what amuses you, then I suppose I’ve succeeded.”

Your friends stare, open-mouthed, as he gives a faint smile, the smallest show of his affection reserved just for you.

Ororon

Gathered in a quiet grove just outside the bustling village, your friends share stories, each of them glancing at you with barely concealed curiosity. Finally, one of them speaks up. “Ororon? Really? He’s so… unconventional. What do you see in him?”

You smile, looking down at the wildflowers in your hand. “He makes me laugh.”

They seem taken aback, sharing doubtful glances. “Ororon? But he’s so… odd. He even lives out in the woods by himself. Isn’t he a little too eccentric?”

You laugh softly, thinking of all the moments Ororon’s uniqueness had brightened your days. “Maybe. But he’s more observant than anyone I know.” You recount a day spent walking with him through the forest, where he had pointed out a bird with feathers the color of storm clouds and said, with absolute conviction, “Look at him, he’s judging us. Clearly, he’s unimpressed with our lack of feathers.” You’d laughed, and he had given you a small, playful smile.

One friend smirks, shaking their head. “You actually find him funny?”

Before you can answer, Ororon appears, emerging from the trees with his usual easygoing stride. “Are we discussing birds?” he asks, his expression calm as he settles beside you. “I could have sworn I saw a bird earlier that looked particularly snobbish. Perhaps it’s you it dislikes.”

You laugh, reaching for his hand as your friends chuckle, finally starting to understand his strange charm. “Exactly,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze.

Ororon gives a satisfied hum, his eyes meeting yours. “See? Nature understands us well.” And in that moment, your friends see how the quiet humor of this eccentric man makes him so dear to you.

Sitting on a rooftop overlooking the stars, your friends are still trying to wrap their heads around your choice. “Dainsleif? Really? What do you see in him?” one asks skeptically.

Dainsleif

You smile softly, reflecting on your experiences. “He makes me laugh.”

Your friends look puzzled. “But he’s so serious and mysterious!”

You recall a late night when you were stargazing together. He had shared tales of his travels and then abruptly said, “In the end, I find that stars are just like people. Some are bright, some are dim, and some are just… lost.” Then, after a pause, he added with a straight face, “But at least they all shine, even if it’s just for a moment.”

You had burst into laughter at his unexpected metaphor, and he’d turned to you, a hint of confusion in his eyes as he asked, “Is that amusing?”

You nod, a warm smile on your face. “Yes! It’s all about perspective with you.”

Your friends nod, starting to see the appeal. “Okay, that’s a bit poetic.”

Dainsleif, overhearing the conversation, walks over with an amused look. “If my musings provide amusement, then perhaps I should share more.”

You grin. “Please do! We could all use a little more humor.”

.

.

.

Masterlist

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Water is Thicker Than Blood Chapter 33

So neither deuce nor Yamato, im sorry to say :) but now i know NONE of you were expecting this guy (he is a canon character btw)

{Start} {Prev Next}

“Ass?” Is one of my fav gags that ive had saved up for a while, im glad its finally free!!!!

Everyone please read the keep reading :) 👇

I rigged it~

i bet you guys werent expecting i pull out one of the least known characters in all of One Piece for this silly little comic!

But~! ☝️

i do my research~~~

---

At the time of posting this, the results could not be closer, which has been a very thrilling ride for me to watch with Overseer Knowledge.

I'd say that those who voted 'Another Canon Character' get half credit, since no one guessed the character correctly. Who ever voted 'OC' also gets half credit, cuz i meann... This guy doesn't have a canon design. He doesn't even have a canon name! So even though he is a canon character, i am going to count him as a KOC (kinda Original Character)

---

Yamato Girlies, thank you for showing up [i hand you a bouquet of flowers, each] if it makes you feel any better, i already have Yamato content with design and headcanons galore in this post!

---

As for Deuce Girlies...

[i hand you guys bouquets as well]

im so sorry... but... I've never read the Ace Novels :D

I'm sure if i had, i would have put him in here somewhere as a major character, but I didnt, and i couldnt

it is very evident by the reactions i got on the post that yall are Starved For Deuce Content!

i designed a modern au look for him here just for you guys :)

---

I've put a lot of foreshadowing on who this guy is in the comic! I would love to point it all out, but i wanna see if you guys get it with hind sight :D

i will point it all out eventually though 👍 perhaps at the next SBS :)

---

Thank you all so much for being so invested in my silly little comic! it makes me really happy to see everyone get passionate about something I've been working really hard on!!!

This was all so much light hearted fun :) thanks again!

bonus unshaded/ less shaded Emmanuel design:

so you can see his colors~

[endless-weightless]

Nameless Ghoul NSFW headcanons

Got Ghost tickets and now I’m gonna be autistic about this band. Also kinda on the shorter side because I’m SO BUSY rn but the autism will pull me through 💪

CHARACTERS: Swiss, Rain, Sodo, Aether, Mountain, Phantom, Omega, Ifrit

TAGS: Smut, reader insert, BDSM, monsterfucking?, afab and amab!reader, lingerie, marking, switch!reader I guess?, switch!Swiss, soft dom!Mountain, mean dom!Omega

🌙Swiss

Kinky. We know this. He’s willing to try just about anything you’re comfortable with.

His personal favourite kinky things include bondage, spanking, gags, some dynamic play, marking and a sprinkle of dacryphilia.

He’s such a power switch and I will not listen to anyone who disagrees. Sometimes he wants to dick you down and sometimes he wants to be dicked down. Is that too much to ask for?

REALLY FUCKING LOUD. If you’re making him feel good he’s letting everyone know.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck~ baby if you don’t slow down I’ll cum- fuck!”

Has absolutely no shame walking around covered in hickeys, bite marks and scratches.

Swiss gets unbelievably horny when you touch his horns, like something in him snaps when you touch them.

Prefers cumming on you rather than inside you, like you’re a canvas and he’s the painter.

Don’t bully him he’ll cum :(

Nah but seriously, if you call him a slut at least once and pull his hair he’ll absolutely melt.

🌙Rain

Pretty vanilla compared to Swiss, but has his kinky moments.

Prefers sex to be romantic, so expect lots of kisses and hand holding.

Speaking of hand holding, he squeezes your hand when he cums. He just loves you so much and you’re making him feel so good.

Has cried on one or more occasions. It could be because he’s so in love or maybe because he just has a really sensitive cock-

Absolutely adores fucking in the shower or even outside in the rain. He loves it when you two are both in tune with his element and it just makes him feel safe being in water.

Doesn’t let out pornographic moans but rather soft gasps and grunts and if you’re really fucking him good then he’ll start whimpering the closer he gets to cumming.

Speaking of cum, he loves cumming in you and just having you cockwarm him (or the other way around). He also moans an “I love you” when he does so.

“I love you so much darling- oh satan.”

Always looks so goddamn pretty when he’s all fucked out and exhausted.

🌙Mountain

My fav ghoul 💜

Gives me soft dom vibes, but not crazy on kink or bdsm.

He’s fucking huge and uses it to his advantage.

Likes watching you squirm when taking him. The bastard will just watch you struggle as you try to fit all of his length in you while he just sits there doing fuck all.

Loves watching you ride him. If you have tits he’s automatically hypnotised by then jiggling as you bounce on his cock.

If you get too tired or overstimulated to keep riding him he’ll instantly flip you over so he’s on top of you and he’ll just pound into you at whatever pace you need.

Mostly grunts when you two are fucking, but he isn’t shy about moaning in your ear when he cums.

So much praise. Like a fuck ton of it.

“Look at you, taking me so well. You’re doing such a good job.

If you’re ever stressed he’ll instantly suggest a solution that involves his face buried between your thighs for the next hour or so.

Endless cuddles when you two are finished. He’ll have you wrapped in his arms until you’ve fallen asleep.

🌙Omega

Good LORD those fingers.

Mean dom. So mean :( (but very rewarding when he thinks you’ve been on your best behaviour)

I reckon he’s pretty well versed in the bdsm and kink world. Maybe even to the point where bdsm is part of his actual lifestyle outside of sex.

Fucks you absolutely silly and then mocks you when you’re too overstimulated to say a full coherent sentence.

If he’s feeling too lazy to actually fuck you or he’s busy he’ll beckon you over to him and have you sit on his lap while he fingers you into oblivion or jacks you off until you’re shooting blanks.

Goes feral when you moan his name, or just say anything along the lines of you belonging to him.

Cums where he wants, as long as you’re comfortable with it.

Not incredibly loud unless you’re sucking him off, then he’s getting a little slutty because he knows how turned on it gets you.

“Oh yeah~ use your tongue just like that darling. Fuck .”

He LOVES bending you over and pounding into you until you’re crying. He’ll even give your ass the occasional slap and moan an “atta girl/boy”.

🌙Sodo

Every time you moan his full name “Sodomiser” he instantly starts panting like a fucking dog.

Gets progressively hornier the more you feed his ego.

Likes nipping at your neck and wrapping his tail around your thigh when you’re fucking.

He tries stay quiet but ultimately ends up a whimpering mess when he cums. He doesn’t even have to be subbing, he just kinda whimpers regardless 🤷‍♀️

I feel like if you were about to suck him off he’d lightly slap you in the face with his dick because he thinks it’s hot 😭

Let you use a vibrator on him one time and he came so hard he was scared to let you use it on him again. He uses it on himself occasionally though.

“Nonono wait don’t turn it up I’ll- ngh~”

Like Swiss he loves cumming on you, bonus points if it’s your chest, ass or face.

One time you pulled his tail during sex and he let out such a load and sinful moan you had to pause before going back to fucking and then teasing him because of it.

🌙Aether

He’s hot and he knows it, the cheeky bastard.

Likes it when you caress his muscles. Fair enough though, if I was that buff I’d want everyone to touch my big strong biceps-

He loves just randomly picking you up and manhandling you.

If you’re a pillow princess or prince you’re in luck because he’ll do all of the work as long as he gets to hear you whimper his name and look at your pretty face.

His favourite thing to do is to buy you lingerie and the rip it off hours later. Sometimes if he’s feeling a bit silly n goofy he’ll buy it one or two sizes too small so he gets to see your tits and/or ass spill out.

Prefers cumming in you but doesn’t mind, as long as you’re satisfied.

Can and will fuck you standing up and it’s very scary because WHO THE FUCK HAS SEX STANDING-

He’s mostly quiet, but still very verbal if that makes sense. He moans a lil and also lets out these like sighs? Idk how to explain it but just know he’s enjoying himself 😭.

“Mm you look so- fuck, good like this.”

🌙Phantom

He’s like a very excited puppy when it comes to sex. Probably would be into puppy play too tbh.

Very easy to overstimulate. Just go for a second or third round with some edging thrown in and he’s putty in your hands.

He whines, moans, whimpers, cries, you name it.

“Please, I’ll be good, I just need to cum, please.”

Doesn’t understand his size or strength sometimes. You couldn’t convince him he had a massive dick until one time when you were riding him you put his hand to your stomach where he could literally feel himself moving inside you.

Doesn’t mind whatsoever where he has to cum, just as long as he actually gets to.

He has the most sensitive tail and horns ever it’s not even funny. He could probably cum untouched if you played with them enough.

Bites a fucking lot, like damn boy calm down.

Needs praise or he might go a little coocoo.

🌙Ifrit

This man is a SWITCH WITH A BREEDING KINK.

So obviously he loves cumming in you.

Gets so unbelievably worked up when he smells you.

Likes fucking you while your in his lap, like something similar to the lotus. He needs to be close to you.

(Afab hc) for some reason he can tell when you’re ovulating and it just sends him spiralling. He’s practically on his knees rutting into the floor and begging you to let him fuck you.

This when he gets the most vocal.

“Please let me fuck a baby into you. Mm~ I’ll do anything”

Bites hard. Like it’s a problem.

(Half afab) Insists on carrying you everywhere once you two are finished. His reasoning is because he might’ve hurt your silly little human body with his massive ghoul dick (his words not mine) and because you might be pregnant!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

That's all, thanks for reading my lovelies!

[scarefox]

Haven't watched anything KristSingto recently but he's right

You can think of fanservice what you want. But the moment you want to police or censor it, it turns into something really problematic. And this stance comes from 2 or even 3 different oppinioned sides but they ironically melt into the same outcome.

But at the end of the day most people forget / ignore, regardless of anything, fanservice still helps normalising public queer affection. And let's be real, most of the stuff in those stage and event shows are that... a show or even a performance! Do you protest at your local theater when they have queer characters kissing? Do you notice how this sounds in a sentence? Yes actors are real people and not characters but especially BL actors & idols still perform stage shows and kind of have a public enertainer persona. You notice how different they are on stage vs. in their personal live streams + nowadays most actors are even very honest about just doing fs for show & fun and often genuine (platonic) affection towards their acting partner but don't pretend to be actual dating (and the ones who do will most likely not lightheartedly come out with it like that... apparently there are exceptions but I have not enough insight on them to judge). You should watch some serious interviews or live stream (translations) of your favs now and then maybe to learn more about them and the industry, they are more than just pretty faces... Actors in just my bubble who talked open about the fanservice topic as far as legally possible at least: JamesSu, Perth Nakhun and I guess we can count Pavel and Nut as well.

What fans make out of it is a whole different story.... and one of the reasons people want to shut down fanservice as a whole. But imagine how lighthearted, fun and easy going this whole thing could be if we didn't had all these toxic naive fans who think every interaction is proof of actors dating (or worse: cheating) in RL. That mindset of "we are BL fans of course we are delulu" is not a joke anymore among some of them. They srsly take pride in that... babes you are part of the problem, stop encouraging it!

Then on the other side, being critical of some of the practices of the industry is one thing but it should not lead into backwards queer censoring... but that's what some are swaying to with their "real people queerbait" agenda or getting the cringes when (samesex) people interact romantically or erotically during live events (that's a bit of a you thing my dears. not necessarily in a queerphobic way but in a purity / shy way and that is a you problem to deal with not anyone elses problem)....

And a lot of people don't even understand or get what most people criticise about fanservice and just jump onto the ban-fanservice train. Without understanding the nuances nor the actual industry circumstances. Like one main argument here isn't even true. Lot of people assume actors get forced into fs. Which is not true (source: one of Perth Nakhuns Q&A vids, the 2. vid i think). BL actors usually know what they get into by entering the industry, decide with eo how much they want to do. Now that can still cause internal personal conflicts like one going over board or not playing enough but that's human miscommunication. Or companies can still be bastards but it's unfair to generalise it over the whole industry when we nowadays have companies who give their actors that freedom.

There are still some points to criticise, definitely. Like I personally dislike how MCs and sponsors sometimes treat actors during events or how fans scream at every little move or glance like crazy.... But the topic is a bit more nuanced (as always in this world) than how most people look at it. I just mean it really always sticks out when you talk with people about their reasons why they are anti fanservice that they just repeat after another with no sources or without actual up to date information or only look at it from one side.

I personally am in the middle. I only like fs when the actors have fun with it and are transparent about it. In the end it comes down to actors consent what they want to give to the audience (reason why it annoys me when people write "i feel like i am interrupting something here / am intuding their privacy" the actors consented! they want you to watch if you want to see it! consent babes! it is fine)

(when i see someone coming in with "but Krist is a homophobe" I will bite you. I am not even his fan and already researched what happened back then when I first saw those accusations when I got into BL 2021ish. It is really not that hard to look up the source and reports of people who were live pressent at the time to understand what went down back then. Ya know instead of believing rumors that twist and lie for rage bait)

[mscherub]

Happy Birthday!

Azul Ashengrotto x Reader

Reader is gender neutral, referred to as prefect, Y/N, and my pearl (by Azul)

Tags!:Fluff, established relationship

Warnings!: I barely tired, it’s short and not proofread 👍

A/N: AHHHH IT’S HIS BIRTHDAY, MY FAV CHARACTERS BIRTHDAY, guys im sane i promise you all I PROMISE— IM A DAY LATE SHHH, at least it’s out…smh

Plans and preparations were made accordingly to your liking the night before, conversing and making each bullet point sound plausible and reasonable, and of course it was with the help of the tweels. It was sweet, really, maybe they did care just a little, just a tiny bit, or maybe it was just for their own twisted personal gain. Either way, they helped you and endorsed the idea, Jade so kindly offering to watch over the dorm and other duties Azul usually tended to so you could take your personal bank out lovely boyfriend out and have fun. They had their reasons for why they were helping you, and you had yours. Azul gives you a lot, and you just wanted to pay him back in your own way on his special day, it seems like the least you can do for him.

So here you are in the Mostro Lounge kitchen at 5:00 am sharp, right at the ass crack of dawn, cooking breakfast with a small,dumb smile gracing your facial features and a small bounce in all of your movements. Of course you got permission to use the utilities, and you’re happy to be doing something, hopefully something he’ll appreciate. He’s “hard to please,” he says, but in reality, he’s just bluffing.

You take the pan and dump the omelette you had prepared onto the plate, fixing it up with garnishes and making sure it looks perfect, or at least edible. With a small hum of approval, you grab some toast from the toaster and plop in on the plate as well, setting the whole thing down on the tray and covering it. You grab a glass of milk and water for him, unsure of what he’d want, and you put that down. You grab the handles on the side and you push open the hinged doors with the side of your arm and walk to his room down the long hall to the dormitories.

The halls are quiet, but they’re beautifully lit by the iridescent and other glowing sea life organisms outside of the large glass windows that line the walls, it’s oddly peaceful.

You get to his door and you take a breath in before you slowly push it open, peering in and looking around the dim room, spotting a certain octo-mer lying in bed in a position akin to the fetal position. It’s silly to see him like this, and you haven’t had the opportunity to until now. You slowly and quietly slip in, closing the door behind you with your foot before walking over to the side of his bed and setting the breakfast you had prepared on the desk he has. His bed sheets are splayed haphazardly across his lower half, his hair a mess and sticking to the side of his face as he snoozes away peacefully. You go over and sit down on the edge of his bed, just gazing at him for a solid minute before you move some of the hair out of his face.

It’s almost comical how he responds to your touch, his eyes fluttering open slowly, mumbling something under his breath as he finally makes sense of what’s going on, and who’s in his room. His eyes open wide and he makes eye contact with you. He lets out a small yelp and sits up quickly, moving and pressing his back against the headboard.

“Woah, chill out it’s just me…” you fight back any giggles as you move your hand back “surprise, I guess? Also, happy birthday!” You beam. His face is flushed and he looks away.

“You…startled me. What’s the meaning of this…” he murmurs as his shoulders relax. He shakes his head and sighs.

“I just wanted to surprise you, for your birthday and all? Don’t tell me you forgot your own birthday—“

“No I did not, than you very much.” He sighs, fixing his hair to the best of his abilities without any products. You get up and grab the tray, going back over and setting it down on his lap.

“The first present of the day. I hope it’s at least edible…” you chuckle, removing the lid and placing it off on the nightstand.

He looks down at it, his lips pursed and a look at his face betrays that he’s still in a dazed sleepy state. “I can feed you—“

“No! That’s not necessary…thank you, my pearl.” He murmurs as he picks up the fork, cutting into the omelette and taking a piece of it to his mouth.

“Edible?”

“Edible…” he smiles softly, looking down at the plate before looking back up at you. “This is awkward…partly because you’re seeing me in such a state of undress…and I’m eating in front of you.” He clears his throat and puts the fork back down.

“I don’t care about that. You’re even more pretty all tousled up. Loooooookieeeee, so cute.” You hum as you lean in and kiss his cheek. He doesn’t move away and he simply closes his eyes again, letting out a soft breath of air.

“You…are an interesting person, my pearl.” He murmurs out, still looking down.

“An interesting person who also happens to be yours. Remember that. You chose me anyways so don’t go making me look bad here…” you click your tongue and move your face away.

“That was not my intention.” He rolls his eyes. You smile and take the initiative and grab his glasses from his case, slipping them onto his face and moving close to him again. He sighs and takes a good look at you before he shifts again in his bed. “Thank you.”

You chuckle and ruffle his hair a bit, to poke fun at him just a little more. “Of course…I’d want you to be able to see me anyways. The person who made you such delectable food.” You muse

“Id have to say, unfortunately, Floyd could conjure up something better.” He smirks. That’s not nice of him…

“Harsh…but would Floyd go out of his way to even make you anything? A slim chance he would. So at least I’m better in that sense.” His smile widens and he nods, moving to sit up straighter.

“Are you gonna eat it or no?” You pout at him. He seems a little caught off guard but we slowly shakes his head.

“I had this whole day planned out, for caloric intake wise, seeing as we are to have—“

“Azul…it’s your birthday. Indulge a bit, damn.” You huff.

“It’s…”

“I love you for the way you are. But it’s fine, cmon, you need to get ready. I have things I wanna do with you. Jade and Floyd might tag along. You get ready and I’ll see you in your office.” You smile and take his hands, pulling him up out of bed before you place another kiss to his cheek. “Chop chop.”

With a little more pep in your step, you shuffle out of his room and leave him to get ready on his own, keeping your word and heading to his office, fixing up the small presents you had placed down just this morning. It was a simple present in looks, but it cost you a lot of money, having to work small side jobs at Sam’s Mystery shop just to even able to afford it. It was one of those special coins that he liked to collect, it was shiny, polished perfectly and kept in a tight seal, clearly kept in mint condition by the previous owners who had it. Just like any good gift, you wrapped it up nicely and even tied a little bow around it.

“Shrimpy! How’s it going!” Floyd hums happily from behind you. It’s obvious to hear the smirk he has in his face just from his voice. You turn around and face him, shrugging and looking back at the present.

“As well as it can go.”

“That’s simply all you can ask for.” Jade adds on calmly, moving into the office and settling down on one of the couches. “I’ll take the opportunity to prepare a cake for later, and Floyd will handle the dinner.”

“Aw, that’s nice, thank you.” You nod along to his words. “No mushrooms, though.”

“Yea yea! When you and ‘zul get back I’ll have his present ready.” Floyd smirks and plops down next to his brother.

“That sounds…ominous in a way.” You mutter as you lean against Azul’s desk.

Azul walks in and looks around, seeing the twins smirking at him, almost expectantly, but he doesn’t make a comment, simply turning and looking back at you. The small, wrapped present sits in your hands as you walk over to him, ushering your hand out towards him and smirking similarly to the twins. He quirks an eyebrow at the gift and takes it, looking it over.

“Shouldn’t I wait for later?” He questions, idly toying with the edge of the ribbon.

“I’d prefer you open this one now. Jade helped me pick out a few things for you later. This one I worked alone to get for you.” You add on, making the gift all the more sentimental.

He nods and opens it, smiling down at the gift. It was simple, but thoughtful, and something he had his eyes set on for a while. “It’s lovely. Thank you, my pearl.”

“Azullll, you should give Shrimpy a kiss, only the right way to say thank you.” Floyd giggles. He was getting a thrill out of watching Azul redden in the face from just a simple comment like that.

“Me and Azul are gonna head out now, but we’ll be back later!” You wave your hand towards Floyd in a motion to shut him up.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You dragged Azul around town for a bit, of course having gotten permission to go off campus. Though, Crowley very reluctantly agreed to the idea.

You went to a cafe after an hour of parading around, Azul taking everything in and engraving any important business tactics or ideas he sees in his brain to save for later. You have to keep reminding him to just focus on the current moment, and he does so long as you keep talking with him. The date is short, sweet, simple, a little time together with just the two of you and no other distractions.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You arrive back at the lounge in good fashion just for the time of the party. Everyone brings gifts and you have to try and keep Grim from eating everything before the party even starts. It’s loud, chatter and other meaningless chitchat goes on simply to pass time until Azul gets to open his presents.

“Hey, ‘zul…” you murmur, settling down next to him in a booth. He perks up and looks over at you, titling his head and waiting for you to say something. “Happy Birthday, my love.” You say sweetly, too sweetly. It’s suspicious. And before he can react, you pick up a slice of cake on a plate and smoosh it against his face, giggling almost manically. “Food fight!”

He lets out huff and he does the same thing right back to you, taking some of the frosting off of his face and smearing it across yours. This starts a war zone against everyone else within the lounge, everyone taking their own slices and attacking people who are least expectant of it. Soon enough, you sit behind a booth with Azul, hiding away from the globs of cake being thrown with brute force and magic. He shakes his head and wipes off his face again.

“Look what you’ve done. How will you pay for the repairs?” He looks at you, taking off his glasses and looking at how they’re covered with frosting.

“I didn’t think this would happen.” You chuckle. You scoot closer and kiss his cheek, the sweetness of the cake sticking.

“Lighten up. Nothing magic won’t fix.” You smile reassuringly.

“And putting you to work by cleaning it up…” he adds on with a matter-of-fact tone.

“No fair—“

Both you and Azul are splattered with more cake, sitting up you see Floyd and Jade with an empty cake stand, the contents now dumped on you two.

“Guys…” you huff.

“Happy Birthday, Azul!”

I gave up…I’m trying to write over things so I wanted to get this one out, A DAY LATE BUT SHHHH

Master List

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[omegastation]

Here comes my review (mostly writing & lore) of the Mass Effect Official Cocktail Book. I also included a list of all characters named with all page numbers related to their mentions.

I’m including this for our Andromeda Appreciation Week because the last part of the book is Andromeda-related :)

Introduction:

Cassandra Reeder is the recipe developer and Jim Festante is the writer.

The book is written by two writers in-universe. The first one is an asari calling herself “Ambree T’Sia” who is a lot like Gossip Girl (“you won’t guess and I’ll never tell” is an actual line in the book). We have to guess her identity but she doesn’t mind spreading a lot of stories about people and their drinks. 

The second writer is an angara called Roa who decided to add recipes to T’Sia’s existing ones, but more adapted to the Andromeda Galaxy. Roa dreams of a better world for everyone. He’s friend with Dutch and Anan from the Vortex.

Each writer presents drinks based on locations: bars and spots in the two galaxies. There also some snacks recipes as well.

Review: 

It’s hard for me to say anything about the recipes, though I will say it seems like there are different ingredients so a bit of everything for everyone. The difficulty can be adjusted: I thought some drinks looked really complicated to make (and some use other drinks in the books as base), but if you want to do a simple cocktail/mocktail, there are at least 10 good options.

Some recipes are directly named after characters or inspired by characters, so it might be fun to try some based on your favs. 

One drink seems weird to me, and that’s the N7 Shooter (mostly because of the mix of ingredients). If you try it, tell me what you think. 

Regarding American measurement: if you want to be precise, I would wait for a translation. Otherwise, I would get a cup and google some stuff before making it.

The drinks I'll try at some point, in a mocktail version only:

Tuchanka Sunset - 22

Perfection - 54

Tupari Blast - 61

Denorian Beer Granita - 64

Tequila Se’lai - 70

Shadowbrokertini - 74

The Mindfish - 83

Calibration Cooler - 95

Pink Marble - 130

Marljeh - 142

Kadara Sunrise - 143

So that’s pretty much it for the food & drinks, sorry!

My review is more about the lore and the writing.

I found the witty tone enjoyable. I like that there’s a distinction between how T’Sia writes and how Roa writes at the end of the book. T’Sia gossips a lot but there’s no malice. Roa is very earnest and seems quite adorable to me.

You’ll see I wrote down all the characters named and the pages, sometimes it says something about the writer, sometimes not.  A good example: Samantha is mentioned 5 times by T’Sia. She finds her charming and young, and mostly links her to drinks and other people (a full EDI/Traynor-like drink is in there). Meanwhile, Drack is mentioned 4 times, Vetra 3 times, but Roa has an entire page about how fascinated he is by Vetra.

Regarding what we learn, lore-wise: not a whole lot. It mostly plays on what we already know. 

What we do learn has to do with some characters. Without being too spoilery, it’s very light and fun for the most part - like Joker and Steve having a challenge, Vega seducing T’Sia, characters loving specific drinks (like Traynor), etc. Some characters (like Kaidan and Miranda) are sharing their woes or backstory. Roa, in the later part of the book, talks a lot about Dutch and their meeting is very very cute.

My favorite anecdote is that Liam’s movie night spreads to the Nexus and becomes a tradition :)

Some characters are very absent while others are more present. I would say it’s logical in a way, but it’s one thing to be aware of. If you’re a fan of Jaal, there are no mentions in the book. Though, like I said, a mention doesn’t always mean a lot: Peebee is mentioned once but we learn nothing new.  I also found it a bit sad that Ashley is not in the book. Obviously, I’m happy to have Kaidan there, but Ashley would have been a wonderful character for fun anecdotes here.

Characters named and pages:

Note: if you find that I forgot a mention, drop me a DM. I’ll add the page and/or character!

Joker - 12, 98

Sel Vass - 14

Solem Dal’serah - 21

Karin Chakwas - 25

Padok Wiks and and Urp - 26

Wrex - 26, 65, 106

Aria - 19, 27

Oleg Petrovsky - 27

James Vega -29, 46, 112

Shepard - 33, 30, 41, 93

Garrus - 37, 38, 95

Samantha - 42, 43, 73, 97, 106

Kaidan - 49, 106, 116

Miranda - 54

Kasumi - 55

Doran - 59, 60, 61

Grunt - 66

Fist - 69

Anderson - 71

Elijah Khan - 81, 88

Emily Wong - 93

Jack - 94

EDI - 97, 106, 

Steve - 98, 120

Tali - 101

Aethyta - 51, 57, 106

Dutch smith - 123, 126, 127, 131, 156

Anan T’Mari - 123, 127, 131, 156

Ryder - 123, 128, 133, 135

Drack - 133, 134, 137, 152

Umi Henon - 133, 134, 135, 138

Vetra - 137, 144, 154

Peebee - 137

Sloane - 138

Lexi - 138

Khan Dagher - 141, 143, 147

Kesh - 150

Suvi - 154

Buxil - 156

Niilj - 156

[almostempty]

Hey, been thinking about your doc alot since I read it in terms of how I want to continue with my own writing and reading habits.

I hope this isn't a stupid question or too taxing for you to answer considering you just essentially wrote a dissertation, but what are your processes for finding, reading and interacting with truly inclusive 'x Reader' fics these days?

i think i suggested to start with bipoc authors and i included some questions to consider when reading/reblogging that should be in the doc, but i'll add some of my more personal opinions here today and tag some author recs while i'm yapping:

i don't think there's really a 100%-inclusive-to-everyone reader-insert but for all the reasons in that doc this is where i'd start

i'd start with bipoc authors 100% there's a rec list @javierpena-inatacvest collected recently here and @salingers made a bipoc authored rec list and tbr here and the @inclusivepedro-oscarlibrary (i'm sure there's more i'm missing)

extra shoutouts to some of my bipoc friends specifically bc they're so talented i'll dickride for them all day idgaf go read @gothcsz @yxtkiwiyxt @clubsoft @thundermartini @cxrsed-angel @lotusbxtch @letsgobarbs alsoooo read works that bipoc authors rec and share (though i imagine they're used to reading things that aren't inclusive but still support their peers so it's not like they'll have only have inclusive/diverse recs)

i'd also prioritize reading works by 2slgbtqia+ authors or authors who write queer fics or poly fics bc i'd guess they're likely writing stories outside of the colonizer script that revolves around whiteness, monogamy, and reproduction already

shoutouts to @miss-oranje-disco-dancer @for-a-longlongtime @sin-djarin @nonbinairyboi @itwasntimethatdidit40 for writing some of my fav queer fics and/or being my fav humans, i'm sure there's more of you i should be adding but i have goldfish brain soz <3

@pedrostories has some tag filters for their collection that might help too (i'm soooo glad there are organized folks among us)

(i think someone was collecting recs for stories with trans characters on monday for trans day of visibility but i don't remember who it was or if i'm remembering that right at all (?) / likely there are more directories and collections i'm just not aware of) additionally i like to read authors that are intentional about writing complex readers like @slimybeth69's girl dinner (heheh), and world building with diverse OCs like @auteurdelabre's SMTL, and by authors who are outspoken in the community about diversity and are intentional about their writing and moodboards like my girls @syd-djarin and @probablyreadinsmut (hi <3 and i know there's more of y'all too) AND make friends with other readers in the comments and share recs ! i won't put my non-writer mutuals on blast but they're full of the best recs or down to talk about fics for days <3

finally,

personally! i’d love to see more OC fics and character x character (crossover or canon) fics getting love too anecdotally, i used to only read longfics on ao3 about din or javi and felt like i saw fics with more canon/au plot beyond just the romance or smut that at the very least, felt further away from the colonial values/heteropatriarchy fantasy

finally (for real),

if the tropes you’re most drawn to are ones rooted in those colonial/patriarchal ideals, i’d guess you’re inevitably going to be swimming in fics written by white people for white people—not because they’re trying to be exclusionary, but because those are the dominant societal narratives, and they’re gonna be popular for that reason so it'll take more intentional critical reading and filtering to find what you want to read or share...i hope that makes sense

as always, i'm not perfect! i'm sure i've shared and written things that i'd reconsider now and there might be obvious suggestions i'm missing but anyway hope this helps!

sorry if anyone didn't want to be tagged

and if anyone else read all of this feel free to add your recs or self rec

[milkamel]

Yap post about Beast Yeast ep 9 !!!SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

MY GOODNESS IT WAS FUN- I had a feeling I'd love ES a lot and I wasn't wrong SHE WAS GORGEOUS. And finally Hollyberry got the spotlight I love her even more as well. Ngl her Crispia ep was a little boring but Beast Yeast? AMAZING. BEAUTIFUL- GAVE HER JUSTICE- I have yet to complete the Legend of The Red Dragon story ofc but hopefully it'll shed light on more of her character by the time her awakening happens

NOW SPOILER TIME!!!

First thing I did was put them together <3 PURE VANILLA IS SO SWEET I LOVE HIS SOFT EXPRESSION SO MUCH. MY GOD. MY KING. MY BBG.

Also bought the SMilk eps soundtracks for my kingdom I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THEM. SO PEAK. Like especially this one struck me ever since I first played ep 7

Me being cringe again- ngl didn't expect to hear any of his lines voiced but it was nice. Hollyberry wasn't voiced too ofc, I hope voice actors will be able to comfortably return to their work soon without any issues <3 <3

ALSO. BEASTS BATTLE INTERACTIONS. THIS IS THE FIRST THING I FOUND OUT AND MY GOODNESS AM I DREAMING?? FINALLY WE HAVE A GLIMPSE ON THEIR RELATIONSHIPS YESSSS LOVED THAT SO DAMN MUCH

Also this guy was interesting- kinda confused abt his relationship with Eternal Sugar cause he's so nervous around her for some reason??- Looked through some info on him and yeah I guess that's valid

My honest reaction once more. SHE'S ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS MYYY GOODNESSSS 🙏🙏🙏 I'd give in immediately ngl

I absolutely loved her and Holly's interactions (had to hold back the shipper in me lmao like wow- that was a lot)- Honestly at first I couldn't tell what was her goal with being so friendly (except for getting the soul jam ofc). I mean I expected some tricks and luring everyone into this paradise buutttt hm idk idk since she let them go so instantly (and I guessed the thing that'd happen right away lol, makes sense they'd want to go back after being faced with a harsh outside world)

Also I was so aggressive to the little guy for literally no reason- but yeah the way he fears her is.. odd to say the least

ALSO THIS?? HELLO?? THAT WAS CRAZY I DIDN'T EXPECT THIS ONE- though I should've cause it's not common for someone close to the ancients to get hurt. And Holly's sprite- GOODNESS 🙏💔

And mini Holly,, oh she's so precious and cute- :((( ueueueeueu- Indeed she was protecting everyone all the time- so sweet

AND ALL OF THIS- I LOVE THAT HER INSECURITIES AND FEARS WERE PROPERLY SHOWN AS WELL,, LIKE SURE THEY WERE EASY (kinda) TO GUESS BUT IT'S NICE GETTING A STRAIGHT ANSWER

AND THIS- WOW. WOWOOWOWFKJDJKGHJhjgdjhgf YEAH I'M STILL NOT OVER ALL OF THIS AT ALLLLL- "SPECIAL" IS CERTAINLY THE WAY TO PUT IT

ALSO SMILK MENTION!! MY GUY!! Still wanna know more about everyone's relationship. They don't seem to dislike each other but it's not like they're friendly or close. Eternal Sugar is definitelly the least aggressive out of everyone (at least at the moment) and kinda has good intentions but still her actions are still harmful towards the cookies she looks over

LOVE THIS SPRITE BTW- LIKE OH MY GOD CAN SHE GET EVEN MORE BEAUTIFUL? Can't wait to get her omg,, please I beg-

ALSO ALL OF THIS??? CRAZY MY GOODNESS- As I said her motivation was.. mostly positive? To make a paradise where everyone is happy. She wasn't disappointed in cookies like it was with Mystic but she certainly went for drastic measures to ensure everyone stays happy. She looks pretty redeemable though not sure if this what's gonna happen

And yeah Hollyberry is traumatized cheers to everyone who wanted to see this happen!! (aka me)

Anyway. Loved the ep. Definitely one of my favs and will PROBABLY yap some more cause my thoughts are all over the place rn I need to collect myself lol

May everyone pull Eternal Sugar 🙏🙏 Cause fr so far I pulled PV and then Awakened right after like does he miss me already stop

[mazzystar24]

Breaks my heart how evil they are to them. I know they're grown men and can handle it and all but they shouldn't have to! Oliver has been so respectful and put so much care into playing buck. He's always been honest about this story being about BUCK, not tommy, and that nobody should be ringing wedding bells

The fact that even the 911 account isn't posting anything because bt fans flood things with hate... and we know oliver sees this shit, he even shut down his comments and DMs. It makes me so fucking sad. We're so close to exploring this beautiful story we've been waiting for and they ruin it over someone who was hired for 4 episodes??

No same the level of care and respect that Oliver has had has been unreal

I say this as a bisexual

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a presumably straight actor handle a queer storyline with this level of respect and understanding

And unlike their fav he hasn’t done it for fame or money or popularity

He has stood up for buck and buck’s bisexuality in cases he didn’t have to

He didn’t have to correct that reporter he didn’t have to make statements in his Instagram calling out bigots he didn’t have to show all this love understanding and excitement for bucks bi arc but he did it even when it’s put him in the firing line and he’s done it with words so well crafted you can tell he fully understands his character and also what bisexuality means to his character

Ik I make jokes but I’m not saying this in a parasocial way- truth is we never know what these actors or famous people are really like- but we still have to recognise good behaviour and the way he has handled this storyline does not elicit the hate and claims of biphobia against him in the least and it’s honestly sad that he has done everything right and is still receiving this from assholes who genuinely do not care or understand what biphobia is

Just because they can’t distinct what the story has been telling them AT EVERY FUCKING TURN and how Oliver tried over and over not to get their hopes up AT EVERY FUCKING TURN and what they built up in their head sometimes with the help of a man after their money. It’s ridiculous

Like not only did he have to turn off comments and DMs he also made a response apparently and probably second guessed himself and deleted it:

And everything he said both here and the interview I stand by, good bi rep doesn’t have to be only fucking if they’re your committed partner y’all are over correcting

Also the claims of biphobia - y’all learn nothing about not assuming sexualities or making these claims huh?

Well at least they’re consistent- when threatened they pretend anything and everything is somehow homophobia cos I (a bisexual ) have been called homophobic so many times by bt fans it’s insane

Rant over cos this is super long but they better leave Oliver stark alone cos that man genuinely doesn’t deserve this shite

[white-spectre]

Non show watcher, Im confused, all these vague posts about an ending of th season. I know the show has changed alot alot, but did they hve siuan die durng the lanfear moraine disappearance? Because thatll be a big departure if they exclude the stilling plot. I guess since they made them active lesbians, from what ive heard, they may give the stilling/garreth bryne subplot to a different character. sorry if im misunderstanding, just the posts have been pretty vague on what actually happened just people have strong feelings apparently

Hello! Sorry for vague-blogging, I think people were trying to not spoil the ending in case anyone didn't have a chance to watch it yet but it's been a few days so I'm sure the cat is out of the bag for most people that follow the series. (this ended up being longer than I anticipated but I do love to yap and this is one of my obsessions right now!)

Anyway, to answer you question, the show ended up killing off Siuan immediately following Elaida's Tower coup. This stirred up a lot of emotions for some people and there's been some people saying that now the show should be cancelled, or the show is playing into the "kill the gays" trope, or that they are just killing off POC characters etc etc... There is definitely a less positive vibe from Tumblr after the season 3 finale than before, but I will give you my thoughts on why I thought it was a good season finale, and you can parse them as you will.

It is definitely a big departure from the books, as you said, but it seems that they are setting up at least part of Siuan's post-stilling storyline to be continued on by Leanne (it was unclear in the season finale if she was actually stilled or just shielded, but it's fairly certain that she survived). The Gareth Brynne relationship would fit in well with Leanne's post-stilling storyline from the book series, as she became more interested in men and (if I'm remembering right) ended up choosing Green as her second ajah later on. I think it would add a really good martyr aspect to the rebel Aes Sedai/Salidar crew, and having Leanne be the rallying point would fit well.

Also the writing REALLY amped up the Moiraine/Siuan relationship from "pillow friends as novices" with maybe a little more subtext in the book series, to "in a committed relationship for 20+ years" in the show, and there are many wonderful, emotional scenes in the show that solidify this. To have Siuan follow the Gareth Brynne relationship arc after building up her relationship with Moiraine for three seasons would have been weird at best, and a big slap in the face to wlw relationships at worst. Another BIG thing to keep in mind is that it was confirmed that Sophie Okonedo (Who played Siuan), had other acting opportunities that she had to move on to, and they wanted to give her a well-written exit without just disappearing the character for 1-2 seasons without explanation.

A lot of people have fears that the show is using POC and LGBT characters as cannon fodder/convenient death plot advancement, and it is not a completely unreasonable fear. Most people in their late 20s/30s can remember when TV (in America at least, I can't speak for other countries) rarely had LGBT or POC characters, and the few characters that were shown were typically portrayed as comic relief, or stereotypical trope side characters, or characters that were killed off quickly to advance the plot for the straight white main characters. The fear that your queer/POC fav is going to die randomly is pretty deeply ingrained in a lot of people, and it's hard to shake off. That being said, I don't think that is happening with Wheel of Time AT ALL. For the entirety of season 3, there have been signs that the Moiraine/Siuan relationship was not going to end happily. Moiraine's visions in Rhuidean showed that only one possible turning of the wheel among dozens/hundreds of possibilities ended with her and Siuan happy together. Scenes at the tower have been showing that Siuan's approval was slipping and that Elaida wanted revenge for being overlooked when the Amyrlin was decided. Killing Siuan when they did cemented the Moiraine/Siuan relationship as being something worth dying for in the viewers mind, and they did it in such a powerful way that it felt much more uplifting of LGBT relationships than if they had just let it fizzle out to make way for another romance plot with Siuan/Gareth.

Siuan is not the only POC/LGBT death this season either, Loial was killed in Episode 7, and Ihvon in the season 3 premier. From what I gather, Emmanuel Imani (who played Ihvon) also had other work opportunities and had to move on from the show. The Ihvon/Alanna/Maksim poly relationship was excellent to see, and I am glad that they did not shy away from the poly representation. It was a real relationship that had real ups and downs, just like any relationship, and I thought they did it justice. Loial's death was unfortunate, but I can understand it from the plot of the books why it happened. He was a good character, but his story arc did not necessarily add a lot to the main plot. That being said, Hammed Animashaun did a wonderful job portraying him and suffered through what I can only imagine as hundreds of hours of makeup and prosthetic work to create the character.

The majority of the cast are POC, and that is huge, even today. I have posted previously about, as a young teen who grew up in a 95%+ white community, I just assumed when reading the books that pretty much everyone was white. That obviously doesn't make sense, as the books have characters from every corner of the WoT universe, and the characters travel all over the world. It says right in the beginning of The Eye of The World that the other folks in Emond's Field often commenting that Rand was only one around with light skin and red hair. That being said, characters die in the series. LOTS of characters die. And to say that none of the POC characters should be dying off because we need to keep representation in the show is just plain ridiculous. The death of a character doesn't erase their narrative in the series, or erase the actor's work, and certainly not every character is going to survive in a post-apocalyptic series.

I often have this conversation with my group of friends when an example comes up: a lot of people lack emotional maturity when consuming media. The Siuan situation and how some WoT fans have responded is an excellent example of this. Siuan was a fan favorite, and the moment she died, some people reacted as if the entire series was ruined. The series that they were SO excited about just one week ago for being an excellent adaptation from their favorite book series that they have read and enjoyed for years, that they loved because of the POC representation and the LGBT romances and the likeable, relatable character..... And they are ready to burn it down because their wlw fav was killed. Threatening to review bomb the series, trashing it on social media, going as far to blame Sophie Okonedo for "ruining the series" by requesting to be written out of the show. I understand that Siuan's death hurt. She was a great character and she had a lot longer story arc in the books but.... Grow up. Not only do you look incredibly childish with these opinions, but you are also hurting the future of television networks doing large scale future productions of fan-favorite shows for fear that if they make the tiniest change, the fanbase will turn on the show. I have posted in the past about how some people hate the Elder Scrolls games because they depict rampant racism and how it "promotes racism" by doing so. But in the premise of the game setting, racism is realistic, especially in Morrowind, where they are so secluded from the empire and their ways are so different from the other provinces. That doesn't mean it's GOOD or that you should defend racism because it's present, but it's believable in the context that it is written and helps to build a fictional world and explain the characters' actions. Writing a good story doesn't mean that the author agrees with the ethics presented in the story, or wants to promote the idea that they are conveying to the reader/viewer. It is up to YOU to parse this out.

I'm sure I could probably go on at even greater lengths, but I want to end with my thoughts so far on the series as a whole. I think every season so far has been a massive improvement on the previous season, and I think it has the opportunity to get even better. The acting has improved every season, and though the story doesn't follow the books very closely, I've enjoyed it immensely. The representation of POC/LGBT folks remains excellent. The special effects are excellent. I am ABSOLUTELY biased because I have read the book series several times over the last 15 years, but it is probably the best fantasy/scifi series I have ever watched.

In conclusion, the real problem here is Amazon and their refusal to renew the show in a timely manner. Unfortunately, if Amazon continues to wait a year (or two years, or more) in between greenlighting the next season renewal, the show will suffer for it. Actors are people that need to buy food and clothing and housing just like everyone else, and while the main characters probably make a pretty decent wage for their work and could hold on a yar or two between paychecks, I doubt that the side character actors are getting paid enough money to live on for several years while waiting for the possibility of another season whenever Amazon feels like renewing. They will be forced to leave and take other positions because, unfortunately, money makes the world go round. The same goes for the hundreds of makeup/styling/setbuilding crew. Amazon needs to stop dragging their feet if they want to retain the amazing actors and the team of people who work hard to make this show a reality.

Thank you for the ask!! I really didn't expect this to get so out of hand but I did enjoy writing it out :)

[a-kinda-boring-writer]

hi i’m new here and i would like to know what you like about brightfire! never seen that ship before and i love hearing about peoples beloved niche ships

Hi, hello! 👋 Welcome to the kitty corner of The Hellsite(tm)

I'm quite sorry for taking two whole day to organize my thoughts 😔. I'm really bad at discussing ships I like. Or ships in general tbh.

Anyways, not surprised at all lol. Brightheart fanships are kinda rare as is, I feel (the fandom loves BrightCloud way too much lol. The most experimental they ever get is adding Swiftpaw or Daisy into the mix). BrightFire must be the nichest thing ever. More of a crackship tbh. There are like three people in the universe who ship BrightFire, we all used to be in the same discord server, and each of us had a different, mutually incompatible interpretation of their dynamic lmao.

Last time someone asked me about one of my fav ships, I couldn't really give them a good answer, and I felt really shit about it. So I'll do my best and I hope it's at least amusing to hear my thought process?

This is probably going to be long and I'm going to explain myself like ass, because I always end up rambling unnecessarily 😔.

Alright:

To be honest, for me, it originally came about as a joke, while writing my PoT-AU rewrite. The main premise of that is that Holly, Jay, and Lion are FeatherCrow kits born in RiverClan, but a fun... gimmick, I guess you'd call it, of that AU is that I strive to research and implement community-wide headcanons and jokes new and old (or just wc fandom practices in general) taken seriously to craft the world-building, plot and characterization of some cats. For example, Leafpool in the AU started as a warrior but was forced to become a med cat by Sandstorm (old fandom rumor based on jack and shit afaik) and she's very pro-life (very strange fandom discourse turned into shitposts gallore from 2019... also, yeah, abortions are a thing that exist in that AU).

Here in Tumblr, Firestar x Everyone is rather popular, so that's part of his character in the AU. That's to say, he's a disaster, with 2 mates, 12 lovers, like 100 flings and 24 litters of kits fathered and counting! (don't worry, the large majority of them died young, so despite his best efforts, he didn't nuked the clans' genetic diversity.... yet).

Anyways, the joke (and pre-phrasing this by saying that I think infidelity in fiction is funny to begin with, and that I don't like Cloudtail. At all). I thought that it'd be hilarious if Firestar, considering his new behaviors, got so annoyed at his nephew one day that he just goes and cucks him. That's it. Incredibly stupid, I know.

Then I started thinking about the ship a bit more, outside of the context of that AU. And I kinda ended up really liking the idea of BrightFire? Firestar is just really easy to ship lol. And as I said, I do not like Cloudtail. So pairing Brightheart up with someone else was an intriguing proposition.

I haven't had the time to sit and write down about it properly, so the following is very tenuous at best. I'm aware this is more of a crackship, so I'm under no illusion that it makes perfect sense within canon or anything like that. Also, this is only ONE scenario I have for BrightFire, the one I've put the most thought, and it takes place on the second part of TNP.

Pre-phrasing this by saying that I don't write my romances as entirely healthy, so if anything sounds lowkey 🤨 then yeah, it's probably meant to be.

The way I see it, Brightheart derives way too much of her self-worth from other cats' feelings and opinions about her. In canon, it's mainly Cloudtail's. One of the guides states something along the lines of "she still remembers what she looked like before the dog attack, and it breaks her heart every time she sees her reflection, she just puts up a brave front and avoids going near water". Bright herself adds that "He gave me another destiny, and I knew that no matter what I looked like, I would be all right. As long as Cloudtail loved me, I was no longer Lostface, but Brightheart". Which I'm sure most people would interpret that as something cute, that's what it was meant as probably, but I'm not most people lol. (bad faith interpretations strike again 🫠)

There are other examples of that stuff within the main books themselves, but those 👆 illustrate the idea already. I don't feel like hunting for screenshots right now.

So, with that in mind, when Cloudtail started neglecting her, favoring spending time with Daisy instead of her... not to mention that Bright had recently lost her home and also had to leave her mother behind to an unknown fate, so she might have been in a vulnerable state as is... I'd imagine she took it really hard.

And to clarify, I'm NOT saying that Cloud was being neglectful on purpose or that he had feelings for Daisy and wanted to replace his wife or anything like that (I think he was just being well-meaning but clueless... and a little dumb perhaps), just that to Bright, it certainly seemed that way.

So in an alternative universe in which Leafpool doesn't step in and chew out Cloudtail to get it together, it's Firestar who intervenes in this situation. But he doesn't go to Cloud, his nephew never listens to him anyways. He goes to Brightheart instead. He doesn't understand what's going on at first, he only knows that she's been moping around in the med cat den a little too much, and he really needs all warriors locked in. They just moved to the lake and there's a lot of work to be done.

He learns what's going on and feels sympathy towards her. He too knows what's like to feel alone even when surrounded by clanmates, and to be neglected by those who you hold dear, those who you thought you had a special connection with (he's still not over his situationship with Graystripe and getting dumped for Silverstream lmaooo)

Firestar cuts her some slack and lets her skip her duties until she feels better. He also starts periodically visiting her, to spend time with her and cheer her up, just like he did with Cinderpelt. He feels responsible in a way, because Cloud is his kin and he (unintentionally) caused this mess.

Brightheart is apathetic at first. But she ends up latching onto him, because she has no one else (Cinderpelt is too busy to spend time with her, dealing with Leafpool's shenanigans and, well, her own upcoming doom. And her brothers... sorry, who?) Over time, Brightheart sort of inadvertently starts getting from Firestar's company and kinds gestures the same validation she used to derive from Cloudtail's.

Eventually, Bright fells well enough to return to her duties, and though things are better, she tries to avoid going on patrols with Cloud. She really doesn't want to know how awesome Daisy is doing in her training or how great her kits are 🙄. And that's all Cloud seems to think about these days. She feels like he compliments her far less nowadays, and even when he does, it sounds kinda hollow.

Instead, she often ends up going on patrols that, coincidentally, Firestar is in (Fire also thinks that Cloud is annoying, so he doesn't put him in his patrols lmao). And they just keep hanging out, as clanmates. Soon they do as friends. And it's his jokes that make her laugh now, and his compliments that causes her to trip over her words.

And when she realizes what's happening, it startles her, causes her to feel really guilty... but it causes her to reevaluate some things. She needs to be loved to be Brightheart, to not be Lostface, to not be dead-weight. And she simply doesn't anymore with Cloudtail. She thought their bond unbreakable, but as soon as someone prettier showed up, he seemed more than ready to drop her. And that sucks because she has a family with him, and so many plans, and so much of her life and future plans were build around him. She doesn't want to throw all that away.

But she feels loved around Firestar. And she needs to feel loved. She's been doing so much better since they've began hanging out. He makes her feel strong, like Cloud used to do. And she's rebuilt her life once. She could do it again...

Firestar has no fucking clue that he's essentially driving a wedge between Cloud and Bright.

(We're going with the fanon-ish funny characterization of Firestar, in which he's handsome, charismatic and very charming, but incredibly clueless. You know, needing Cinderpelt to spell it out for him when Sandstorm wanted to put a ring on it, and all that)

He just sees that Brightheart responds well to what he does, so he keeps doing it. He invites her to share some fresh-kill with him and Sandstorm, and while they eat, he slips in that her fur looks lovely today. Then he pats himself on the back when Bright smiles, and offers to go on another patrol with him. Man, he's just so great at supporting his clanmates! 😌

(In a "Sandstorm is ok with it" scenario, I like to think that Firestar wouldn't understand what's going on until his wife quite literally asks him 'So are you going to invite that woman you've been courting to our nest already, or do you expect me to do it?', with him replying something like "the woman I've been WHAT?")

From that set up, you can take it anywhere, really. Bright keeps quiet and continues with her marriage, for the sake of her daughter. She tries to pursue an affair with Fire and is rejected. She tries to pursue an affair with Fire and he agrees for [insert reason here]. Bright just divorces Cloud publicly and goes for Fire, either getting rejected or not. Or from this event, Bright learns to love herself, without needing others for validation, and it doesn't matter with who she ends up with anymore... or she should yolo it and just marry Daisy, fuck it.

Happy endings are kinda few and far between in my stories lol, but I have a soft spot for BrightFire. I wanna see them happy-ish in the end (Sandstorm too!). Need time to actually think about it, though.

Anyways, yeah. Hope you got something interesting out of this?

<3

[kyupidos]

I would like to request a twst overblot gang x reader ( separate and only do a few of them if you can't do all!! ) :D , the idea is reader missed their birthday cause it was on the day they overblotted ( things was so chaotic and they literally just forgot about it ) and only remembered it after they started dating them!! (I would absolutely love you if you make azul's first cause he's my fav lol)

09/10/23’s delivery 🏹✉️ twisted wonderland

ink flavored cake ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ,ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ ;; summary. ‘when your future boyfriend turns into a blot-consumed monster, things can get hectic; forgetting things is only natural, no?”

characters. overblot boys : riddle rosehearts , leona kingscholar , azul ashengrotto ( separate ) ;; romantic . 🖇️ tags. reader is gender neutral ( you/your ), reader is yuu, silly romantic fluff

📡 _a/n. ty for the req anon ^-^ !! this took me some time to work on because i was trying to figure out how it would work, but yk i had to get it out before monday; though i had to cut back on the amount of characters. maybe i’ll do a part 2 if i’m motivated enough. usually i order characters by order of dorm, but i’ll make an exception for you here since, what’s not to love about azul?

a. ashengrotto

— you don’t blame yourself for having forgotten your own birthday, though it’s a shame; three days to obtain a picture in a museum under the sea or else your only living space will be taken from you, being forced to spend the nights at savanaclaw, and then finally, the third overblot of the year. the third! in the end though, you figured it didn’t matter too much. who would be able to celebrate your birthday with you, people from a whole different world than you?

— though you also didn’t expect things to get hectic romantically, you’re not upset about that either; so you sat with azul in his office, spending time together in comfortable silence as he got some work done. it seemed as though something had randomly popped up in his mind, though, as he carefully put his tea cup down on the coaster and turned to you. “also, i should ask, angelfish— when is your birthday? i’d like to remember so i can treat you.” for a moment, you debate how to respond. it’s already been three or four months since that day. “well..it already passed.” azul sighed, looking disappointed in a way you could quite express, before he continued, “oh? well that’s a shame. but nonetheless, what’s the date?” “ah..the day you overblotted?”

— you can’t help but notice the air turn heavy as the silence once comfortable turned awkward, azul appearing more miffed than before. at least, not long before; “well, is there anything in particular you wanted for your birthday?” you hummed in confusion before he started again, this time more confident, “it doesn’t matter if the time has gone, you’re my lover correct? i still might as well get you something special.” in any normal situation you would have probably shook your head politely and say it wasn’t necessary, but this was related to your birthday. of course, you took up his offer— you weren’t going to give up a birthday gift that easy.

l. kingscholar

— some people believed that no matter how different you two were, in some ways you were certainly akin to your lover, leona. after all, you didn’t seem too concerned with the way you missed your birthday, which was on the day of your lover’s overblot, no less; in fact, though you did seem upset to some degree, you didn’t seem to be nettled at all by the concept. although such a fact wasn’t exactly something people were aware of yet, at least not until leona himself became aware of it.

— “eh, herbivore. by the way, when’s your birthday? i don’t think you ever told me.” ..right, you nearly forgot again. well, it’s not that big of a deal, you suppose; at least it was the day after, but you’re over that now. you guess. “ahh, yeah, it already passed.” leona yawned, facing away from you as he laid on his bed with you next to him, in a sort of sitting position. “oh? well when exactly was that?” you shrugged lackadaisically, counting your fingers as if counting down the days since it had passed. “probably..the day you overblotted, i guess?”

— very slowly, to the point it was almost funny, leona’s head slowly turned to face you. usually he wouldn’t be bothered by sentiments like this, as his face was downturned with a chagrin frown, but after all you were his lover. and plus, it’s a little embarrassing to have overblotted on said lover’s birthday; even if you didn’t know. he wasn’t even able to spoil you the day after in apology! “in that case..write me a list of everything you want.”

r. rosehearts

— having a birthday near the start of the school year wasn’t exactly the best in terms of celebrating with new school friends; especially when on your third day of school, your friends’ housewarden raged into an overblotted monster, pretty awkward, isn’t it? but in the end, you’d completely forgotten anyway, what with your whole in-another-world dilemma, and the aforementioned overblot— oh, and that you almost got expelled on the whole day, and moving into ramshackle..certainly some tough times on your end.

— but now, things have calmed, and you’re together with your now partner, riddle, having a two person tea party in heartslabyul’s garden. most of what you’re talking about is related to the things going on in heartslabyul, but you don’t really mind; if you want to change topics, you know he’ll listen. though suddenly as he rambles on to you about unbirthday parties, a highlight of the aftermath of his overblot ( as well as your birthday, not that he knew ), he looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes, “—oh and i must ask, when is your birthday, dear? we don’t only hold unbirthday parties, you know.”

— had it not been for that, you’d probably have forgotten again, having been months since the beginning of your journey in twisted wonderland; though, you’d probably still complain internally every now and then. “ahah, it already passed this year, y’know. totally forgot to mention it.” riddle looked perplexed for a second, unsure how one could forget their own birthday, before returning to his casual expression a second later. “..is that so? but when was it, even so?” “mm, third day of school.” riddle wasn’t an idiot, he remembered what happened that day. the main star was him, after all. so inevitably, he couldn’t help but feel upset that he unintentionally ruined your second day. “r-really..then..i’ll dedicate today to you, instead. tell me what you want, i’ll get it prepared; like i said previous, we take parties seriously.”