#have nothing but time while in a different city for work tho

[pyrokitten284]

Hello their! I'm someone who is completely obsessed with emperors new groove! I've seen the movie over 80 times. Would you like to draw kuzco x kronk

Heck yeah! Honestly, it’s a fantastic movie- I think I’ve seen both it and The Road to El Dorado more times than a single person should haha.

Figured Kuzco and Kronk would eventually swap stories about that time Yzma tried to usurp him and Kuzco would ask to get a piggyback ride on an inflatable throne the *moment* he heard about that tent backpack contraption. Hope you like how it came out! :D

[sanesaviour]

Danny☀️

Here are some headcanons about him and other characters:

1. He spend most of his life in K’un Lun, so living in New York is big culture shock for him, feels like different universe for him and at first he was really struggling with New Yorks pace (like K’un Lun is definition of patience and peace while New York is complete chaos), he is still learning how juggle his superhero duties, training and just living in such a chaotic city without feeling overwelmed. Also the technology and social media is wild west for him, even tho he tries really hard to understand it better and is really interested in modern technology he always ends up in situarions like: ,,why is my phone working so slow?” Turns out he has open like 100 tabs… but somehow he is really good at using his mp3 player (he really loves music and has very questionable taste in it)

2. He is super chill about everything, he have that laid-back attitude and also fashion, like he wears very loose comfy clothes and tries to just blend in (he fails) and I like to think like he is popular at school but on accident and he doesn’t even realize it coz everyone just like how chill he is all the time. Most of his teammates are jealous of this and he doesn’t get why, he is just too clueless

3. Vegan (I thought this was just my headcannon but after starting S2 turns out it’s actually cannon in show too lol)

4. Danny is fist one to accept Peter as new teammate but also as friend, he is only one who has beenkind to him since beggining, they are really good friends even tho most of the time they are alone together they don’t talk just vibe together

5. Danny teaches Luke how to be more book smart and luke teaches danny street smarts, they are best bros actually and later ends up on lot of missons together. And I feel like Luke likes to joke about Danny’s fancy origins like: “Did you learned this moves while sipping on some mystical tea and writing poetry?” Danny never gets those are jokes and is always like: “yea, how did you know? :D”

6. Ava and Danny both likes to read, they both can go hours withour saying anything and just reading next to each other… others likes to point out that they are like grandparents when they do that, also I think being disturbed while reading only thing that can get danny out of his chill guy mood. While Ava does that “shhhhh” thing while being disturbed Danny just stare at them with really cold and done expression which says: are you gonna shut up?

7. Sam is the one who actually teaches Danny about modern technologies and stuff. He also gives Danny nicknames like for example Zen guy… he likes to make fun of him but he secretly admires how cool Danny can be with his whole mystical vibe around him and on the other other hand Danny admires Sam’s jokes and even sarcasm (when he finally gets the whole concept about it) and is very fast to learn those skills from him (Peter thinks Sam is ruining him lol)

8. Okay this one is bit awkward but I think lot I can’t be the only one who thought about this… so I remember during history classes it was mentioned multiple times that most monks practice celibacy and some of them don’t even come to contact with woman for most of their life’s… SO- I think that at beginning Danny don’t really think about relationships, don’t mind spending time with someone of opposite gender, he views men and women as equals and he doesn’t feel any attraction to anyone, he is very focused on training… ofc due to his “popularity” some people try to hit on him but again he is clueless about it, but at some point someone will make it very obvious that they are into him and he will do nothing about it but this moment will start his overthinking literally every human interaction phase and internal morality fight like he really would like to experience date but his mind is always like “why are you thinking about this? You are such a disgrace to K’un Lun!!!” Also he would go from talking w everyone same way to being speechless and all flustered around opposite gender… once that would happened even with Ava and her first thought about it would be something like he have some problem with her so she wouldn’t let him be until he tells her what’s wrong with him, so basically she would force him to spill the truth… then she would just laugh and make puns about it really often in front of others and he always tries to stop her so it looks like it’s some stupid inside joke of theirs which no one else gets

[julietsf1]

All is Fair in Love and Pastries - Kenan Yıldız x Reader

summary: She came to Munich for romance and got ghosted instead. Now, all she has left is a non-refundable ticket, a wounded ego, and an ongoing feud with a man who stole her last pretzel. (8k words)

content: serendipity, slight enemies-to-lovers, unexpected chemistry, teasing, fluff :)

AN: getting that real life inspo lmao I'm actually still going to Munich this weekend as my ticket is non refundable :') bet im gonna go shopping tho!! have a lovely day darlings <3

_______________________________________

I stared at my phone for the hundredth time that day, hoping—no, praying—for a notification. A single message. A carrier pigeon, even. Anything to prove that I hadn’t just imagined the last 5 months of my relationship.

Nothing.

Just the same empty screen, as quiet and indifferent as the man who swore he loved me five days ago.

I refreshed our chat anyway, like that would suddenly make a difference. Maybe my WiFi was acting up. Maybe he had texted, and the message was just... stuck in the digital abyss, waiting to be delivered.

Nope. Still nothing.

I sighed dramatically and flopped back onto my bed, holding my phone above me like it might suddenly start explaining itself.

It had been four days since my boyfriend—ex-boyfriend? Current ghost?—had last texted me. Four whole days. No explanation, no excuse, not even the cowardice of a half-assed breakup text.

Just... radio silence.

Besides the instagram stories of his friends, where he was seemingly having the time of his life clubbing and going to basketball matches.

The man who, less than a week ago, had been telling me he missed me so much, that he couldn’t wait to see me, had apparently decided I no longer existed.

Cool. Very cool.

I unlocked my phone and stared at my last message to him. A simple:

"What time are you picking me up from the airport <3"

Sent. Read. Ignored.

I clenched my jaw and rolled onto my stomach, glaring at my laptop screen where my non-refundable plane ticket sat in my email inbox. A round-trip flight from Nice to Munich, purchased in what I now recognized as the stupidest burst of romantic optimism I’d ever had. 

What was I supposed to do now? Cancel? Waste the money and sit at home, marinating in my own heartbreak like some tragic rom-com protagonist?

Absolutely not.

He may have ghosted me, but I’d be damned if I let some spineless man ruin my weekend. If nothing else, I was going to Munich. I had been there quite often for him anyway; I can figure out town for myself. And if nothing else, I was going to eat overpriced pastries, wander through fancy boutiques, and romanticize the hell out of my heartbreak.

So that’s exactly what I did.

I packed my bags and boarded the plane with all the enthusiasm of someone heading to their own public execution.

…

Munich was cold, and I was hungry—a dangerous combination for my already fragile mood.

I had spent the last hour walking through Englischer Garten, trying to shake off the lingering irritation of being ghosted. Fresh air was supposed to be good for you, right? It was supposed to clear your head, restore balance, whatever.

Did it work?

Not even a little.

I even stopped by the Eisbachwelle, where wetsuit-clad lunatics flung themselves into freezing water, attempting to surf a man-made wave in the middle of the city. I lingered for a while, waiting for the sight of someone wiping out spectacularly to cheer me up. A little Schadenfreude, as the Germans call it.

But even that failed me.

A guy faceplanted so hard that his board smacked him in the ribs, and all I felt was secondhand embarrassment. Not a single drop of joy.

Which meant I had officially lost my edge.

I needed a reset. Something warm, salty, buttery, preferably in the shape of a large pretzel.

So when I spotted a small bakery stand in Marienplatz, I knew what had to be done.

There it was. The last Brezn.

Golden brown, perfectly crisp on the outside, still steaming slightly. It looked like a hug in food form. The kind of thing that could turn your entire day around, that could restore faith in humanity, that could—

A hand shot out at the same time as mine.

Before I could react, the pretzel thief had already handed over his cash, nodding a polite danke to the vendor as if he hadn't just robbed me blind in broad daylight.

I stood there, hand still hovering mid-air, fingers closing around absolutely nothing.

The guy—the criminal in question—didn’t even hesitate. He just took a bite, slow and deliberate, as if he were performing for a food commercial.

I should have just let it go. But I was cold, hungry, and, quite frankly, on the verge of snapping.

“Excuse me?” I said, my voice teetering dangerously close to customer service polite.

He finally turned toward me, mid-chew, like he hadn’t just committed culinary theft.

Up close, he was—unfortunately—pretty easy to look at. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features softened only slightly by a full head of thick, dark blonde hair. The kind of guy who looked like he belonged in an expensive ad campaign, modeling watches he probably didn't even know how to read.

His gaze flicked down at me, scanning me with the casual arrogance of a man who had never had to fight for the last anything in his life.

“Problem?”

I crossed my arms. “You just stole my Brezn.”

He glanced down at it. Then, without even a hint of remorse, ripped off another piece and tossed it into his mouth.

“Oh?” he said, chewing. “Didn’t see your name on it.”

I let out a slow breath through my nose. “You cut the line.”

He shrugged. “I don’t wait in lines.”

I squinted at him. “Oh, wow. That must be so difficult for you.”

“It is,” he replied, entirely serious, before popping another bite into his mouth.

I stared at him. He stared back.

This was a test from the universe.

“I think I deserve it more,” he said finally, still looking alarmingly relaxed about this whole thing.

“Oh yeah?” I deadpanned. “And why’s that?”

He licked a bit of salt off his thumb—unnecessarily slowly, might I add—before replying, “I’m barely ever home. Haven’t had one of these in months.”

I exhaled sharply, glancing at the vendor like maybe—just maybe—there was another pretzel hiding in a secret stash somewhere. But no. This was it.

This stranger had not only taken the last Brezn but was now making a compelling case as to why he deserved it more.

I had two choices:

1.     Accept defeat like a normal, functioning adult.

2.     Die on this hill.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling particularly mature today.

“Well,” I said, shifting my weight onto one leg. “I actually had a really rough week. So if we’re doing the who deserves it more competition, I’m pretty sure I win.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking far too amused for someone who had just ruined my day. “Oh yeah? What happened?”

I opened my mouth, then hesitated.

 “Let’s just say I’ve had a series of unfortunate events that have led me here, to this exact moment, where all I wanted—all I needed—was a Brezn.” I gestured toward the offending baked good, still clutched in his ridiculously nice hands. “And yet, here we are.”

He considered that for a moment, like he was actually entertaining the idea of handing it over.

Then, after a beat, he simply swallowed, dusted the salt from his fingers, and said, “Still not giving it to you.”

I blinked. “You’re actually the worst.”

“Probably,” he agreed, unbothered.

And then—because apparently, this interaction wasn’t infuriating enough—he shot me a quick smirk, turned on his heel, and walked away.

With my pretzel.

I watched his retreating figure, the back of his stupidly nice jacket, the annoyingly confident way he walked, and considered my life choices.

Maybe I should have just tripped him.

…

By the time I reached Jamal’s apartment, I had mostly let go of the pretzel theft.

Mostly.

Fine, not at all, but I was telling myself that because I refused to let some random bread bandit ruin my entire weekend.

I rang the doorbell, and within seconds, the door swung open to reveal Jamal Musiala—failed Raya date turned best mate.

We had met on the app ages ago, but within the first five minutes of real-life conversation, it was abundantly clear that we were better off as friends. No awkward tension, no will-they-won’t-they—just immediate sibling energy.

And when he heard about my spectacular disaster, he didn’t even hesitate.

"Cancel the hotel. My guest room is free. You’re staying with me."

Which was how I ended up here, standing in his doorway while he pulled me into a quick hug.

"Yo! Finally made it," he said, immediately pulling me into a hug. 

"Survived another international flight," I sighed, stepping inside and already feeling the tension in my shoulders ease.

He grabbed my bag, tossing it near the door like it was his personal mission to make sure I did absolutely nothing for myself this weekend. "Long day?"

"You have no idea," I muttered, collapsing onto the couch. "Between the baby on the flight and some guy testing my patience on the streets of Munich, I was one bad moment away from throwing hands."

Jamal raised an eyebrow, already amused. "Define ‘testing your patience.’"

I waved a hand. "Eh, some random dickhead cut in front of me at a bakery. Took the last Brezn. Very tragic. Anyway, I’m over it now."

Jamal snorted. "You don’t sound over it."

"I’ve grown as a person," I said solemnly, grabbing the tea he handed me. "Anyway, enough about me. What’s new? Got any hot gossip?"

"Nothing as dramatic as your bread wars," he teased, settling into the chair across from me. "But I’m still reeling over the fact that you thought long-distance dating was a good idea."

I sighed, taking a long sip of my tea. "Alright, go on. Get it out of your system."

He smirked. "No, no, I just think it’s inspiring. You—who has approximately zero patience for time-wasters—thought dating someone five countries away was a solid plan."

I gave him a look. "It made sense at the time!"

Jamal raised an eyebrow. "Did it?"

I groaned. "Yes! In theory, long-distance means built-in space. No pressure to see each other all the time, no risk of losing yourself in the relationship. You still get your own life. It’s all very mature, very evolved."

"Ah yes," he nodded seriously, "a relationship with absolutely no quality time. Revolutionary."

I ignored him. "It worked perfectly for me."

Jamal leaned forward, grinning. "I think you’re saying he just didn’t make you fall head over heels properly."

"I’m saying it was a noble experiment that failed," I corrected.

"You rationalize love like it’s a business deal," he said, shaking his head. "I bet you made a whole pros and cons list before agreeing to this relationship."

I pursed my lips.

Jamal’s eyes widened. "Oh my God. You did."

"It was a very casual list," I mumbled into my mug.

He threw his head back, cackling. "You’re mental."

I scowled. "Some of us like to make informed decisions, Jamal."

"And some of us," he grinned, "realize that love isn’t an investment portfolio. It just happens."

I squinted at him. "That sounds like something people say when they want me to shut up."

"That too," he admitted, still smirking. "Anyway, I invited a friend over for FIFA later—hope you don’t mind."

I waved a hand lazily. "No problem. I’m gonna take a long shower first anyway."

…

The shower did its job. By the time I stepped out, warm and wrapped in one of Jamal’s oversized hoodies, I felt lighter. Like maybe this weekend wasn’t a complete disaster. Maybe I could just enjoy being in Munich, enjoy my friend’s company, and ignore the nagging feeling that I had flown here for absolutely no reason.

Then I stepped into the living room.

And froze.

Because sitting on Jamal’s couch, controller in hand, was none other than the Brezn thief himself.

I stopped so abruptly I nearly slid on the hardwood floor.

He looked up at me mid-game, one hand casually flicking the joystick, the other resting against the back of the couch like he had all the time in the world. His dark blond waves were slightly damp, like he’d just showered too, and he was wearing a black long-sleeve shirt that looked unfairly good on him.

For a split second, I thought maybe the universe was punishing me. That this was some kind of elaborate karmic joke.

Then he grinned, slow and lazy.

“Oh,” he said, far too casually for my liking. “It’s you again.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you following me?”

Jamal—completely oblivious to the mounting tension in the room—paused the game and looked between us. “Wait. You two already know each other?”

The man—who I now knew was not just some random bakery menace but an actual acquaintance of Jamal’s—stretched his arms out in front of him like he was completely at ease, shooting me a look that was somewhere between amused and smug.

“We met earlier,” he said, still grinning like he found this whole thing hilarious. “Had a little disagreement over a pretzel.”

I crossed my arms. “I wouldn’t call it a disagreement. More like an act of blatant food theft.”

Jamal let out a loud laugh. “Oh my God. You’re the Brezn guy?”

I turned to him, betrayed. “You’re taking his side?”

“Oh, I’m on no one’s side,” Jamal said, still grinning. “I just can’t believe you’ve been ranting about this all evening, and it turns out it was Kenan.”

Kenan.

I turned back to him, my brain finally catching up. Kenan Yıldız. The name suddenly clicked into place. Juventus player. Young star. He had been on all the football news headlines lately, yet I hadn’t recognized him when we’d been too busy arguing over baked goods.

Kenan leaned back against the couch, clearly enjoying every second of this.

“If it helps,” he said, “I did think about giving it to you.”

I scoffed. “Wow. So generous.”

“Didn’t, though,” he added, eyes gleaming.

I inhaled sharply, mentally weighing the pros and cons of throwing a pillow at his head.

Jamal, meanwhile, was still thoroughly entertained. “Alright, alright. Before you two start a war in my living room, sit down. We’re playing FIFA.”

I dropped onto the couch, watching as he passed a controller to Kenan. “Oh, fantastic. I get to witness high-quality gameplay firsthand.”

Kenan barely glanced at me as he selected his team. “That sounded sarcastic.”

I took a sip of my drink. “That’s because it was.”

Jamal grinned. “You talk like you’ve seen him play before.”

I gestured toward the screen. "The evidence is right there. You haven’t even started playing, and I can already see the classic overconfidence."

Jamal burst out laughing. “Oh, this is great. I love this."

Kenan tilted his head slightly. “You think I’m bad at FIFA?”

I leaned back, stretching my legs out. “I think you think you’re good, which is way worse.”

Jamal wheezed. “Mate, she’s calling you a fraud.”

Kenan finally smirked, something sharper in his expression now. “Alright then. Play me.”

I scoffed. “Why would I waste my time proving something I already know?”

Kenan handed me a controller. “Because I think you’re all talk.”

Jamal let out a low whistle. “Damn. You gonna let him say that?”

I squinted at Kenan, assessing. He looked too confident, too pleased with himself, like he had already decided I was going to lose.

Big mistake.

I stretched my arms, feigning boredom. "Fine. But when I win, you’re buying me a Brezn."

His grin widened. “Deal.”

Jamal leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. “Alright, this is officially the most invested I’ve ever been in FIFA.” 

The match started, and I quickly realized three things:

1.     Kenan was as smug as humanly possible.

2.     I was not as bad as he expected.

3.     I was still losing.

“You sure you’ve played this before?” he teased, passing circles around my defense.

I gritted my teeth. “Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Shut up.”

And then—he scored.

Jamal burst out laughing as I dramatically collapsed against the couch. “I’m going to throw this controller at your head.”

Kenan grinned. “You’re just mad because you’re losing.”

I exhaled, resetting. “Alright. I’m locked in now.”

Kenan smirked. “Oh? You weren’t trying before?”

“I was warming up.”

And then—I started to figure him out.

Kenan was good, but he was also comfortable. He played like someone who expected to win—which meant he wasn’t ready for surprises.

So I gave him one.

Instead of playing safe, I started forcing mistakes. Instead of predictable attacks, I threw reckless passes forward, sprinting onto them with zero hesitation.

And then—somehow, some way—I scored.

The room went silent.

Jamal’s eyes widened. “NO WAY.”

I shot up from the couch, genuinely thrilled, throwing my arms in the air like I had just won the World Cup. “LET’S GO!”

Kenan blinked at the screen, processing. “...Alright. That was decent.”

“DECENT?” I laughed. “That was incredible. That was a masterpiece. Someone call FIFA, that was the best goal of the year.”

Jamal was dying, doubled over in laughter. “She’s actually celebrating like she won the league.”

Kenan shook his head, but he didn’t say anything.

Jamal leaned toward him. “You good, man? I think she actually rattled you.”

Kenan exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. “One goal means nothing.”

I grinned. “You sound stressed.”

“I’m not,” he said flatly.

“You look stressed.”

Kenan didn’t even respond. He just restarted the match, jaw set, eyes focused.

And that’s when I realized—he actually cared.

I had gotten to him.

And that fact alone made my entire weekend.

The rest of the game was pure chaos. I spent the entire match talking, commentating my every move like I was a sports announcer, making Jamal cry with laughter while Kenan did his best to block me out.

And then—somehow, against all odds—I scored again.

Jamal fell to the floor. “SHE DID IT AGAIN.”

I jumped up, clapping my hands together, absolutely beaming. “Someone get the cameras! Someone call ESPN!”

Kenan exhaled, dragging a hand down his face.

Jamal cackled. “I think this is the happiest I’ve ever seen her.”

Kenan looked at me then, properly looked, and for a split second, there was something undeniably fond in his gaze.

He didn’t say anything, just shook his head with a tiny, reluctant smile.

I flopped back down, grinning wildly. “Kenan, should I go pro?”

“You should retire while you’re ahead,” he muttered.

I smirked. “So you admit I’m ahead.”

Kenan sighed, picking up his drink. “I’m not talking to you anymore.”

Jamal wheezed. “Nah, man, you lost. Accept it.”

I stood up, stretching lazily. “I believe you owe me a Brezn, Yıldız.”

With a giggle, I wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a coke from the fridge, still riding the high of my victory.

Behind me, I heard Jamal got up, grabbing his phone. “Food’s almost here—I’ll go down and get it.”

The appartment was quiet now besides the sound of a controller being set down. A pause.

Then, Kenan’s voice, low and even.

“She’s unbearable.”

I grabbed a coke and turned around, only to find him already walking into the kitchen.

He moved with the kind of easy confidence that was impossible to ignore, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt slightly, like he had all the time in the world. I expected him to go for a drink himself, but he just leaned against the counter, watching me.

I raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip. “Let me guess. You came in here to process your humiliating loss in private?”

His lips twitched. “I came in here to see if you’d finally crack and admit you got lucky.”

I scoffed, setting my drink down with dramatic emphasis. “Lucky? Oh, that’s cute. You think this was luck.”

Kenan tilted his head slightly, like he was really considering it. “Mmm. Either that, or you tricked me into underestimating you.”

I gasped, pressing a hand to my chest. “Are you suggesting I played mind games with you?”

His eyes glinted with something just shy of admiration. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

I smirked. “You’re right. I totally did. And I’d do it again.”

Kenan’s lips curled at the edges, like he wasn’t going to give me the satisfaction of admitting anything. But his gaze flickered—just for a second—down to my mouth before locking back onto my eyes.

There was a beat of silence, not awkward but charged.

His voice was lower when he spoke again. “I’ll get you back for that.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Sure you will.”

Before he could respond, Jamal’s voice rang out from the hallway. “Food’s here!”

Kenan stepped back, running a hand through his hair before nodding toward the door. “Come on, winner. Let’s eat.”

I followed, my smirk still lingering.

For the first time all weekend, I felt genuinely good.

…

It had gotten late the night before. Later than expected.

Jamal had ordered food, we’d all ended up sitting around, eating, talking, and somehow, between full stomachs and heavy eyelids, Kenan had ended up crashing on the couch. It wasn’t planned—just one of those things that happened when the night stretched longer than you thought it would.

I had barely registered it at the time, already halfway asleep in Jamal’s guest room, but when I woke up the next morning and wandered into the living room, there he was.

Kenan Yıldız. In all his six-foot-something, professional athlete, half-asleep glory.

Sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes, hair a mess of lazy curls, mouth slightly parted like he hadn’t fully re-entered consciousness yet.

I stared for a second too long, mostly because I wasn’t used to seeing him like this—soft around the edges, not smirking or arguing with me—before clearing my throat.

“You know, Jamal does have an actual guest room.”

Kenan didn’t move, just let out a low, sleep-roughened grumble that was probably a sentence in some language I didn’t speak.

I rolled my eyes, walking into the kitchen. “I’m going to get breakfast. If you’re alive in the next five minutes, feel free to come along.”

He was already pushing himself up onto his elbows, blinking like he wasn’t fully convinced the day had started yet. “Where’s Jamal?”

I grabbed my coat. “Still dead to the world.”

Kenan ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose. “Smart man.”

…

The café was small, tucked away from the main streets, the kind of place that felt warm the second you walked in. The smell of fresh bread and espresso filled the air, and despite the morning chill outside, it was cozy, inviting, the kind of place people actually took their time in.

I relaxed a little the second I stepped inside.

Kenan scanned the space, hands in his pockets, taking it in like he was mentally scoring it. “Not bad.”

I scoffed. “Not bad? This is an elite breakfast spot.”

He smirked. “I’ll decide once I taste the food.”

I rolled my eyes but before I could continue defending my flawless café selection, I noticed a small interaction at the counter.

A barista—young, probably new—was clearly overwhelmed, trying to juggle too many things at once. She fumbled slightly with the coffee machine, hands moving fast, eyes flicking to the growing line like it was personally taunting her.

The businessman at the front, impatient and already checking his watch, let out a loud, exasperated sigh. “Jesus, is it always this slow?”

I didn’t mean to intervene.

It just kind of… happened.

I leaned slightly against the counter, offering a calm, easy smile.

“Take your time. It’s way too early for people to be this impatient.”

The words weren’t pointed, not really, but they carried just enough weight to cut through the tension.

The barista glanced at me, a flicker of relief in her expression before she nodded quickly and refocused on the drink in front of her.

The businessman, unimpressed, muttered something under his breath but dropped it, grabbing his coffee and stalking off.

Kenan, silent up until now, turned his head slightly toward me, like he was seeing me differently for the first time.

I ignored it, focusing back on the menu.

When we finally stepped up to order, the barista, still looking a little frazzled but better, managed a small, genuine smile.

“Thanks,” she murmured, adjusting her apron. “Some people are just…” She trailed off, rolling her eyes slightly, as if she couldn’t quite find the right word.

“The worst?” I offered.

She laughed. “Yeah. That.”

Kenan was still watching me, but now there was something else behind it.

Something almost amused.

“So you do have the capacity to be nice,” he mused, smirking as we stepped aside to wait for our drinks. “Interesting.”

I scoffed, stirring a sugar packet between my fingers. “I am perfectly capable of being nice.”

Kenan raised a brow, feigning deep contemplation. “Mmm. Just not to me?”

“The barista never stole my pretzel.”

He let out a low, lazy laugh, shaking his head as if he almost respected the answer. “Fair point.”

I took a sip of my coffee, pleased with myself, but before I could gloat, the barista returned, sliding an extra croissant onto our tray.

“On the house,” she said with a grin. “For being nice.”

I shot her a bright smile, but that smile slightly fell when I turned back to Kenan, I caught him watching me.

Not smirking. Not teasing.

Just looking.

It wasn’t obvious, nothing overt or lingering enough to call attention to itself. But there was something there—something unreadable, like a thought passing through his mind before he could decide what to do with it.

I frowned. “What?”

Kenan blinked, shaking his head slightly like he was resetting his expression. “Nothing.”

I squinted at him. “You’re weird.”

He smirked. “And yet, you invited me to breakfast.”

I rolled my eyes. “Because I was feeling charitable.”

Kenan took a slow sip of his coffee, eyes still flickering with something I couldn’t quite name.

“Lucky me.”

And for some reason, that sentence stayed with me longer than it should have.

…

The rest of the day, after dropping Jamal’s breakfast and Kenan went home, I was on a mission.

Enough sulking. Enough rehashing why I was even here. If I was going to spend a weekend away, I was going to make something of it—starting with the one thing that had never failed to lift my spirits.

Retail therapy.

Now, let’s be clear—I wasn’t the kind of person who regularly indulged in luxury shopping sprees. I was a firm believer in financial responsibility and splurging on sales.

But sometimes—just sometimes—a girl needed to treat herself.

I had no intention of actually buying anything.

But the moment I stepped inside Saint Laurent, something in me shifted.

Maybe it was the soft golden lighting, making everything look like it belonged in a dream. Maybe it was the quiet elegance of it all, the way the sales associates moved like they had all the secrets to life itself.

Or maybe, for the first time all week, I felt like I deserved something just for me.

I started with the handbags, lightly running my fingers over smooth leather and delicate gold clasps, trying to soak up the feeling of being in a place that felt so effortlessly put-together.

And then—I saw it.

It wasn’t a bag.

It was a dress.

Simple, timeless, and undeniably perfect.

I hesitated for a second, fingers hovering over the fabric, wondering if I was allowed to try something this nice on.

Then a sales associate appeared, smiling warmly. “Would you like to see how it fits?”

I bit my lip, a little shy. “Oh, I was just—”

But then, in a rare moment of self-indulgence, I nodded. “Actually… yeah. Why not?”

And that was how it started.

Five minutes later, I was standing in front of a mirror, staring at a version of myself I hadn’t seen in a while.

The dress fit like it was made for me.

It hugged just right, elegant but effortless, like I’d just thrown it on and magically looked stunning. The kind of dress that didn’t need accessories or complicated styling. It just… worked.

I smoothed my hands over the fabric, twirling just slightly, inspecting every angle.

And for the first time all weekend, I actually smiled at my reflection.

The saleswoman clasped her hands together. “That’s the one, isn’t it?”

I exhaled, still staring at myself. “You’re very good at your job.”

She laughed. "You look stunning, dear."

I let out a small, giddy giggle, the kind I hadn’t heard from myself in a while. It felt nice, to like how I looked—to do something that was just for me, without a single ounce of guilt attached.

For once, I wasn’t overthinking it.

I wasn’t analyzing whether I should or shouldn’t.

I was just happy.

So before I could talk myself out of it, I lifted my chin and said, “I’ll take it.”

As I handed over my card, I thought about where I’d wear it.

Jamal’s match tonight. The VIP box.

And then, out of nowhere, another thought crept in—one I definitely didn’t mean to have.

What if Kenan sees me in this? Surely he would be there too.

The moment the thought fully registered, warmth crept up my neck and into my cheeks.

I nearly choked on my own internal monologue.

I shook my head quickly, forcing down the blush before the saleswoman could notice.

I wasn’t buying this for him. Obviously. No. This was just for me.

…But if Kenan happened to see me in it, well.

That wasn’t my fault.

….

By the time I arrived at Allianz Arena, I felt genuinely lighter.

Maybe it was the crisp night air, the buzz of excitement in the crowd, or the fact that I was actually looking forward to something for the first time in days.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that I felt good in my new dress.

The stadium lights shone down as I made my way to the VIP section, clutching my pass. The energy inside was electric, fans already singing, the deep thrum of anticipation settling over the stands.

I stepped inside the box, scanning the seats for Jamal, when a familiar voice cut through the crowd.

I turned, already knowing who it was before I even saw him.

Kenan stood next to me, hands tucked casually into his pockets, his usual smirk firmly in place. The stadium lights did unfair things to his features, casting a warm glow over his already obnoxiously handsome face, and for a split second, I hated that he had the nerve to look like that in any setting.

His gaze flicked down ever so slightly, scanning my dress before he met my eyes again.

“You look good.”

I blinked, caught slightly off guard by the lack of sarcasm in his voice.

Then, as if he could sense me registering the compliment too much, he added, “Unexpected, really.”

There it was.

I let out a scoff, placing a hand on my chest. “Oh my God, Kenan. That was almost a normal, genuine compliment. You must be exhausted.”

He hummed, nodding. “Yeah, I don’t know what came over me. Won’t happen again.”

“Shame,” I teased. “I was really enjoying the moment.”

He shook his head, biting back a smile. “So, what brings you here? Finally expanding your horizons past FIFA?”

I crossed my arms. “Actually, I’m here for Jamal. Some of us support our friends.”

Kenan nodded slowly. “Mmm. And yet… you’re standing here, talking to me instead.”

I opened my mouth to fire back, but before I could, the stadium erupted in cheers, the players stepping onto the field.

I turned my attention to the match, trying to pretend I wasn’t slightly flustered.

Kenan, however, didn’t seem as interested in the game as he was in continuing his favorite pastime: annoying me for fun.

“So, be honest,” he murmured, leaning in slightly. “You understand the rules of football, right?”

I gave him a dry look. “Wow. Incredible assumption. You see a woman at a match and immediately assume she doesn’t get it?”

Kenan grinned, unbothered. “No, I just see you at a match and assume you’re mostly here for the snacks.”

I gasped. “Excuse me, I am deeply invested in Jamal’s career.”

Kenan hummed, clearly not convinced. “Okay. What position does he play?”

I stared at him. “...Defense?”

Kenan smirked. “He’s a midfielder.”

I groaned, throwing my hands up. “Alright, whatever, I’m here for vibes and friendship. Sue me.”

Kenan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with pure amusement.

For once, I didn’t feel annoyed by it.

I turned back to the field, taking in the sheer energy of the stadium, the rush of excitement that rippled through the crowd.

And out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kenan watching me.

I glanced at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching the match?”

His smirk didn’t waver. “I am.”

Something warm and fluttery settled in my stomach before I could stop it.

…

By the time the match ended, I was happily full of stadium energy but tragically underfed.

The VIP box had food, sure, but it was the kind of small, fancy bites that looked better than they tasted. You know, the kind that was supposed to be "elevated dining" but just made you angry and hungrier.

I popped another tiny canapé into my mouth and sighed dramatically.

Kenan, who had been watching me struggle with barely concealed amusement, finally smirked. “You’re starving.”

I turned to him, offended. “I am not starving.”

Kenan gestured lazily to the criminally small appetizer on my plate. “You just inhaled that in one bite.”

I crossed my arms. “Maybe I have a very refined palate.”

He snorted. “Right. That’s why you look physically betrayed after every bite.”

I sighed, defeated. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m a little hungry.”

Kenan hummed like he was deep in thought, then glanced at his watch.

“Come on.”

I frowned. “What?”

He was already heading toward the exit, looking over his shoulder like it was obvious. “We’re getting food.”

I blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

Kenan chuckled, his expression full of mischief. “Trust me, anything outside is an upgrade from whatever that was.”

I tilted my head. “And what if this is an elaborate scheme to lure me into a suspiciously empty street?”

His smirk deepened. “I’d like to think if I wanted you gone, I’d be more creative than that.”

I considered it. “That’s… unsettlingly fair.”

…

Kenan’s car smelled unfairly nice—not in an overwhelming, aggressively expensive way, but in that effortless ‘I have my life together’ way. It was all clean leather, faint cologne, and something subtly fresh, like pine or citrus, the kind of scent that made you want to breathe a little deeper just to keep it around a second longer.

I did not breathe deeper.

Instead, I focused on the city outside, on the soft blur of streetlights streaking across the window as we drove through a quieter part of Munich. The streets were mostly empty, the chaos of match day behind us, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I wasn’t feeling weighed down by my own thoughts.

I was full, I was warm, and for once, I wasn’t thinking about him.

And then, Kenan spoke.

“So.” His voice was casual, almost offhanded, like he wasn’t about to upend my peace. “You never actually said why you were in Munich.”

I blinked, looking away from the window. “What?”

He glanced at me briefly, his fingers drumming idly against the steering wheel before he turned back to the road. “You don’t seem like the type to just book a random flight for fun.”

I scoffed, feigning offense. “Excuse me, I am very spontaneous.”

Kenan hummed like he didn’t believe me. “Right. And how many of these ‘totally random’ solo trips have you taken before?”

I opened my mouth. Paused. Frowned.

“…That’s not important.”

Kenan chuckled, shaking his head. “So, you’re telling me you woke up one day and thought, Munich sounds nice?”

I huffed dramatically, crossing my arms. “Maybe I did.”

Kenan shot me a pointed look that said ‘I know you’re full of shit.’

I exhaled, shifting in my seat. “Fine. I was supposed to see someone.”

He didn’t react—just kept driving, waiting.

It was almost worse than if he had immediately jumped in with a question.

I sighed, resting my head against the window. “But, uh… turns out he didn’t feel like seeing me back. And I had the ticket booked already.”

The words felt… lighter now, like they didn’t hold the same weight as they did a few days ago. Maybe because I’d said them out loud before. Maybe because I wasn’t alone with them anymore.

Kenan’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel, his jaw tightening for half a second before he spoke.

“Idiot.”

I blinked, turning toward him. “What?”

His voice was even, casual, but the way he said it was too sure, too final. “The guy. He’s an idiot.”

I let out a small, surprised laugh, shaking my head. “You don’t even know him.”

Kenan didn’t hesitate. “Don’t have to.”

Something about his certainty made my stomach twist.

I licked my lips, choosing to ignore the warm feeling creeping into my chest. “You’re very confident in that assessment.”

Kenan finally glanced at me, just for a moment, then looked back at the road. “Yeah. I am.”

The air in the car felt different all of a sudden, not uncomfortable, but charged.

I opened my mouth, about to say something to break whatever this was, when—

Kenan reached into the backseat, grabbing something, and tossed a small paper bag into my lap.

I frowned down at it. “What’s this?”

Kenan kept his eyes on the road, one hand resting lazily on the gear shift. “Something I saw.”

I gave him a suspicious look before reaching inside.

The first thing I felt was something soft.

And when I pulled it out, I actually gasped.

It was a Jellycat plush.

But not just any Jellycat plush.

A pretzel-shaped one.

Ridiculously soft, golden brown with tiny embroidered salt flecks, its round body twisted into a perfect loop, like an adorable, carb-shaped hug.

I stared at it, completely thrown.

My brain short-circuited.

I turned to Kenan, wide-eyed. “You—” I stopped, shaking my head, too stunned to be normal about this. “You got me a Jellycat pretzel?”

Kenan shrugged, like this was completely normal behavior. “Figured you’d appreciate it.”

I blinked down at my lap, still gripping the plush like it might disappear if I let go. “I—this is—I don’t even know what to say.”

Kenan smirked. “Wow. A rare moment.”

I ignored him, still reeling. “Wait. How did you—” My eyes narrowed as the realization hit. “Jamal.”

Kenan huffed a small laugh. “Jamal.”

I groaned, slumping back against my seat, embarrassed beyond belief. “I swear, he’s worse than an actual gossip column.”

“He told me the full pretzel tragedy while you were shopping this morning.” Kenan’s lips twitched. “Said you looked genuinely devastated when I took the last one.”

I gasped, pressing a hand to my chest. “I was devastated.”

Kenan let out a real laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I got that impression. Little drama queen.”

I glanced back down at the plush, running my fingers over its ridiculously soft surface, warmth blooming in my chest for an entirely different reason now.

I swallowed. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, you know?”

Kenan exhaled through his nose, his smirk fading slightly. “I know.”

There was a small pause, then—

“I wanted to. I like to see you smile”

I froze.

Just for a second.

It wasn’t even what he said.

It was how he said it. Like it was simple. Like it wasn’t a big deal.

But it was a big deal.

I looked down at the Jellycat pretzel, tracing my thumb over one of the little embroidered salt flecks.

Kenan cleared his throat, like he wanted to move the conversation along before I got weird about it.

“I, uh—” He rubbed his jaw, focusing back on the road. “I couldn’t exactly smuggle a fresh one into the match, so I figured this would keep you warm in a different way.”

I swallowed, my grip tightening on the plush.

Somehow, slowly over the last few days, my heart stopped feeling so heavy.

I glanced at Kenan, and for once, he wasn’t watching me with his usual smirk or teasing expression.

He was just watching.

Like he was still trying to figure out why I looked so surprised.

Like he didn’t realize he had just completely disarmed me.

I turned back to the window, hiding my smile.

Kenan shifted in his seat, adjusting the air conditioning like he suddenly needed something to do with his hands.

He still hadn’t started the drive back to Jamal’s.

Good. I wasn’t in a rush to get anywhere.

…

I woke up earlier than expected, the kind of early where the world still felt half-asleep, where the streets outside hummed quietly with the first stirrings of the city.

The apartment was still, save for the occasional distant sound—pipes groaning as someone used the shower, the soft buzz of an electric toothbrush in another room.

And then—

A loud "OH, COME ON!" followed by rapid button-mashing and what I could only assume was a FIFA-related disaster.

I groaned, pressing my face into the pillow, trying to will myself back to sleep.

It didn’t work.

Instead, my hand reached instinctively for something beside me, fingers brushing against—

Oh.

I cracked one eye open.

There, sitting right beside my pillow, was the Jellycat pretzel plush.

Warmth bloomed immediately in my chest, completely uninvited.

It had been exactly where I left it, tucked neatly beside me like some ridiculous comfort object. I had slept next to it. Like some sentimental idiot.

I exhaled sharply, flopping onto my back and covering my face with my hands. “I’m losing it.”

Jamal’s distant FIFA agony continued in the other room.

I peeked at the plush again, this time reaching over to pick it up, squeezing it absently in my hands.

It was too soft. Too huggable. Too… thoughtful.

Kenan had really gone out of his way to find something like this. He had listened to Jamal’s retelling of my pretzel tragedy and then acted on it.

That thought alone did something weird to my stomach.

I needed to leave before I started reading into things.

After a long, slightly too-hot shower and a reluctant change into travel clothes, I zipped up my suitcase and walked into the living room, where Jamal was still intensely focused on FIFA.

“Morning,” I greeted, adjusting my bag strap.

Jamal barely looked up. “Yo. Ready for your flight?”

I nodded, shifting my weight. “Yeah, time to go back home. Thanks for letting me crash.”

He finally paused his game, stretching lazily. “No problem. You’re welcome to crash here whenever your love life implodes.”

I gasped, fake offended. “Excuse me, that was one time.”

Jamal smirked. “That was this time.”

I glared at him. “You’re very lucky I don’t have time to fight you about this.”

Jamal grinned, unpausing his game. “Safe flight, man. Oh—Kenan’s out front, by the way.”

I froze mid-step, my brain short-circuiting. “What?”

Jamal tilted his head toward the window. “I think he’s waiting for you.”

I blinked rapidly, my stomach flipping for reasons I refused to acknowledge.

Kenan was… waiting for me?

I didn’t even have time to process what that meant before my feet were already moving, slipping on my coat and heading for the door.

And sure enough—

When I stepped outside, there he was.

Leaning against his car, hands tucked into his pockets, his posture completely at ease, like he had been there for a while and had all the time in the world.

The moment he saw me, his lips curved into a smirk, like he had been expecting me to be surprised.

“You’re awake,” he said, as if he had any reason to assume I wouldn’t be.

I scoffed, shifting my bag higher on my shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

Kenan shrugged. “Driving you to the airport.”

I blinked. “I—what?”

He tilted his head slightly, amused by my confusion. “What, you thought I’d let you navigate Munich public transport with a suitcase?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I was literally just going to call an Uber.”

Kenan rolled his eyes, exhaling through his nose. “That’s boring.”

I stared at him, the weight of this entire situation settling into my brain.

Kenan—who had no reason to be here—had woken up, driven across the city, and was now waiting for me outside, completely unbothered, like this was just something he did.

I adjusted my coat, voice quieter. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

Kenan looked at me like I had just said something profoundly stupid. “Yeah. I know.”

I didn’t know what to do with that.

So instead of overanalyzing it to death, I just sighed, adjusting my bag.

“Fine. Let’s go.

…

When we finally pulled up to the departures area, Kenan shifted into park, tapping his fingers lightly against the steering wheel.

I unbuckled my seatbelt slowly, suddenly feeling like this was weirdly… final.

Like leaving now meant returning to normal.

And for some reason, I wasn’t ready for that.

I turned to him, opening my mouth to say… something.

But before I could, Kenan reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out.

A tiny bag of pretzels.

I blinked, thrown completely off guard. “You—”

Kenan smirked, holding it out toward me. “Figured you might need some snacks for the flight.”

I stared at him, something warm creeping into my chest before I could stop it.

I took the bag, shaking my head. “You’re trying to buy my goodwill?”

He leaned back against the seat. “You love it.”

I scoffed, but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Debatable.”

Kenan’s gaze flicked to my carry-on, and before I could register what he was about to say, his smirk deepened slightly.

“Did you pack the Jellycat?”

My face immediately heated up.

I opened my mouth—to lie, obviously—but Kenan just let out a laugh, shaking his head. “You did.”

I huffed. “No comment.”

Kenan’s lips twitched. “Good. It means my plan worked.”

I frowned. “Plan?”

He nodded toward the plush peeking slightly from the top of my bag. “Now you have to think about me every time you see it.”

My brain short-circuited.

I had no response to that.

I huffed, adjusting my bag. “Okay, well. Thanks for the ride, I guess.”

Kenan nodded once, casual as ever. “See you around.”

I hesitated for half a second.

Then, before I could stop myself—

I turned back to him one last time.

And said, without thinking:

“Don’t miss me too much.”

Kenan’s smirk was slow, lazy, and way too confident.

“No promises.”

I stared at him, my brain doing at least fifteen flips, before turning on my heel and walking inside before I could make this worse for myself.

I had no idea what had just happened.

All I knew was that my face was burning, and I was smiling like an idiot.

…

Back home, everything was exactly as I had left it.

The same apartment, the same slightly-too-loud coffee machine sputtering in protest before coming to life, the same half-empty fridge reminding me that I should really start grocery shopping like an adult.

Everything had resumed as normal.

And yet—

I found myself standing in my bedroom, suitcase still half-unpacked, as if some part of me refused to fully settle back into my routine. My fingers ran absentmindedly over the plush pretzel sitting on my bed, its soft, squishy loops an absurd but strangely comforting reminder of the past weekend.

I wasn’t supposed to still be thinking about him.

I wasn’t supposed to be replaying conversations in my head, breaking apart the way he had looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, the small shifts in his expression, the casual, almost careless way he had handed me that bag with the Jellycat and the pretzel, as if it hadn’t meant anything at all.

I let out a frustrated sigh, squeezing the plush against my chest like it was somehow responsible for all of this.

“You’re not helping,” I muttered at it.

Unsurprisingly, the Jellycat did not have a response.

I groaned, flopping onto my bed and burying my face into my pillow, as if that would somehow smother my thoughts into submission.

This was ridiculous.

I was being ridiculous.

I had gone to Munich with a very specific reason—to see someone who had ultimately proved to be unworthy of my time. But somehow, I had left with something else entirely.

A new inside joke. A new routine. A new, completely inconvenient way my stomach flipped whenever I got a text notification.

Which was precisely why I should not have reached for my phone just now.

But I did.

And when I turned it over—

There it was.

A new message.

From Kenan.

I hesitated for a beat, my thumb hovering over the screen, already knowing that whatever it said would only make things worse for me.

Then, finally, I clicked it open.

Kenan: Buy a nice winter coat.

I frowned, sitting up slightly as I typed back.

Me: Why?

The reply came almost instantly, as if he had been waiting for me to answer.

Kenan: I’m playing in the Netherlands next Wednesday.

Another message followed before I even had time to process the first.

Kenan: I need you to see how much better I am than Jamal, obviously.

I stared at my screen, my heart doing a very, very inconvenient thing, something warm and fluttery and deeply annoying settling into my chest.

I didn’t respond right away.

Because I already knew what I was going to do.

I was going.

[boosnotes]

can i request maybe neo metal sonic x an engineering/programming reader who once helped repair him when he was injured as normal metal sonic? although his motor abilities were shut down during the process he still remembers how innately intimate the act of painstakingly restoring him to perfect condition: smoothing out the dents in his metal, replacing wires that were damaged, even going over the chipped paint to make him shine…

he still remembers these things (as robots tend to never forget) and has this strange cloying fondness for the reader. even in his plans for world domination he quietly carves out a spot for them by his side. the fondness he feels is conflicting as it goes against all logical sense but he feels compelled to do so. he is not very good at processing love.

maybe the reader is a bit apprehensive about joining on account of being one of the heroes, but neo wants them by his side.

Give me your hand and I will make you a monarch

Neo Metal Sonic x reader

Warnings: kidnapping, hostage situation, the end of the world, just metal sonic stuff in general, gun/weapon use Genre: fluff? Ig? A/n: omg this is my first request, hope you like it anonymous person on the internet, you made me so happy. I checked the sonic x reader tag and saw another person literally requested the same thing, but I haven't read it yet so let's hope it's different, probably it was the same person thinking I was taking long. Sorry for the wait, I just need to be sleep deprived to write things that I like, tho thanks to you I have a couple of drafts of metal x reader, so you will be feed nicely for a bit

The blue light of the monitors shined the room, even though your view was upside down, it forced you to see the suffering of your people against Neo Metal Sonic hands; badniks destroying cities, capturing civilians, harming people. You felt hopeless and so stupid, this was all your fault, why did you take time repairing him that time? If you'd left him there, then he'd never be transformed into this. The guilt echoes in your insides, a mixture of wanting to look away, despite also forcing yourself to do it in a form of punishment.

The rope against your wrists hurt, the scratching of the material against your skin made it already uncomfortable, yet the tightness within it almost cut the blood circulation. The piece of cloth in your mouth was wet from all the drooling and the extended amount of time it had been in there, you felt how it spread beyond the knot against your head, the fabric hitting you at random moments on your back, making you spin around anxious a lot of times. At least the floor was just a plain floor, the cold metal made you stay awake, not in an unwelcome way, more like the cold side of the pillow.

You had been captured by badniks while helping your town folks find shelter, then you were thrown here and no one has appeared in hours. It was quite odd, not a cage in sight, you passed the jail area while being hauled here. You tossed around for hours, nothing occurring, no noise or signs of life apart from the computer. The yarns were too strong to break free from them, and they didn't leave much space for mobility.

You flinched after hearing the door abruptly opening, the sight of a flock of ruined badniks carried in a container by a different version of the Gamma robots disoriented you. What exactly is happening is beyond you, warily you stared between the container and the functioning robot. They unlace you, breaking the dreaded rope and throwing the cloth away, lamentably, before you'd think that they are another robot gaining free though, he shoves a pistol on your head.

"[F I X T H E M.]" They demanded, their monotone menacing voice made you not think twice about obliging as soon as they left the box before you. Your skilled hands reconstructed each part with no problem, you're used to working under pressure, you never had a gun pointing at you directly, despite repairing things mid-battle was fairly common. With your peripheral view, the modernized version of Gamma lingered near you, never lowering the weapon, they made sure you'd actually fix the broken badniks, with no tricks up your sleeve.

Like that, one after the other came out of the room in new condition, slowly building a smooth rhythm, mending them was second nature to you, like cleaning dishes or playing a rhythm game. You hold machines near your heart, they've become so advanced they're mostly sentient nowadays, it's only fair to treat them with kindness and love, that's your work philosophy, it has helped you to make the impossible possible. Your heart extended even to him, which you now regret, he was one of your best works while also the thing that kept you awake at night.

The door kept open for longer than usual, a long claw hand put itself between the doorframe and the automatic door. You comprehended immediately who it was, you spent a lot of time polishing those fingers if you squint hard enough, you were going to be able to see some carved designs you added in because of your boredom. He bent down a bit to pass through the door, his massive new form made it difficult to maneuver with the design of this ex-eggman's base. You didn't know if the Gamma model did that or not, but it seemed like they stiffened up and went out of the room, not waiting for any order of sorts.

You two stared in an awkward silence, the sense of familiarity behind both of you, yet never directly interacting made it difficult to traverse the situation. His red glowy eyes studied you carefully, watching you work and how you react to him were polar opposites, in his "coma", you talked to yourself carefree, but now your body language signaled you were closed off as ever.

He knew his feelings were not in line with Sonic's, that this was his wiring doing its job at processing his own experiences. He sought you, he needed you at his side, the only thing he could call his own volition, not as a trophy, but instead as a reminder that he was not him, but better. He was doing something you deserved, yet never had, acknowledging your true value. His time with you was incoherent, despite that, the way your hands treated him with so much care, or the way you apologized every time you had to replace a wire, it was so idiotic, somehow he ended up perfected far beyond Eggman's abilities.

Someone like you was a must have in his empire, sitting at his side as he made the world a more fitting place, feeling your touch every time you fixed him from his latest encounter. That's how things should be, efficient, satisfying. His eyes focused on your entire being, the way you preoccupied yourself by toying with your utensils, or the nearly invisible sweat coming out of your neck.

"Be by my side." Was the first thing he spoke, your eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. What? "Work for me and I will bring you fulfillment." His combination of words was more than strange, you were pretty sure his creator never intended for him to speak, it must be an error in his new programming.

"You need an upgrade to your system." You threw into the air, scoffing at his odd demand and looking away, your focus went back to the badnik in front of you. In your mind, Neo Metal Sonic was acting so out of character, you can't even argue that that is Sonic's feelings acting, cause he saw you purely platonically, his loveless ass was too free to own more than his pair of stinky shoes and gloves.

"You helped me once, you're now willingly helping me conquer the world." He pointed out that it was the most logical thing in the world, but you were far from logical, emotions usually made you do very questionable things. "I'm offering you the extension of your services, and great privileges when my empire settles itself, you'll be my right-hand man."

"I'm being held at gunpoint, that's not exactly willingly." You grumbled sarcastically, screwing harder than necessary, making it pop out again. You groaned frustrated, you didn't want this, you didn't like what he was offering, you'd rather die than go against your principles, hurting the people you grew up with and love was out of the question.

"Correct, nonetheless, you're still working as we speak." Fuck, you stopped moving your hands, leaving the tweezers on the ground. You look up at him, finally giving him your whole attention, a scowl decorating your face. "It is natural to seek protection from the strongest individual, who is myself at the moment."

You didn't respond to anything, making a silent protest, in some way, you were also considering his offering. The world was chaos right now, deep down you didn't want to die, Sonic and his friends were fighting against him, frustratingly enough, it was too much for them, no real change had been done since this all began, in fact, things only got worse. He could sense the doubt bubbling inside you, so with an extended hand, he confessed his deepest opinion about you.

"I see you as an equal." Your eyes widen at those words, your heart skipping a beat, not in fear, but in fondness. He appreciated your work, he still remembered all the little projects you distracted yourself with while revamping him back together, your skills were unique, your talent just needed a more organized approach, changing your style from a more abstract to a renaissance, more palatable for the ignorant eye. "Will you accept now?"

Your shaky hand accepted his, doubt and nervousness reflected your action, however, the way he firmly grasped it and pulled you up, made you think maybe, just maybe, you're making the right choice. Both your brain and heart were telling you this was the right and wrong choice at the same time, it didn't make any sense, even so, the utter confidence he had in you made you give in.

[noxxobscura]

Just a Bit Too Late

✦ PAIRING: Idol!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader ✦ TAGS: established relationship, angst, mention of drinking, alcohol and partying, reader left their home, small family issues, use of Y/N, short mention of pregnancy (reader is not tho) ✦ SUMMARY: You had one night - just one - to share the biggest moment of your life. But the one person you needed most never showed. Now, standing barefoot in the rain with your heart in your hands, you’re left wondering: what happens when love stops showing up? ✦ Word Count: 2.2k ✦ A/N: My first time releasing a fanfic on here. It's very angsty and lowkey made me tear up. I listened to Cover Me the whole time through writing.. bit emotional ngl. I hope you like it. Let me know if you want a part 2 and who you think comforts reader heh

The deafening noise of the city slowly subsided as the sun disappeared somewhere beyond the horizon. Darkness seeped into the streets, reclaiming Seoul like it belonged to the night - a night that felt heavier than usual. A small, cold breeze stirred the curtains on the window and made you shiver in your spot on the windowsill. It was always hard to see stars in the city, hidden behind smog and clouds. Tonight was no different, but something in your chest still made you look up. Somewhat hopeful to see something different. It felt as if even the universe was closing itself off from you, even though this night was supposed to be cheerful - exciting, even. A night spent with the love of your life, sharing some of the biggest news you'd ever received.

No, you weren’t pregnant. That was the first conclusion your mother had jumped to when you’d called her right after the meeting. You could hear the faint disappointment in her voice when you told her you’d finally received the promotion you’d worked so hard for. Your family had always been a big support in your life. They’d even - after some hard work convincing them - supported your decision to move to South Korea for the man of your dreams. Some family members and friends called you naive or impulsive for making such a life-changing decision on a whim, but back then, you knew in your heart it was right.

Hyunjin was everything you’d ever dreamed of. He carried you on his hands like you were royalty, treated you like a princess who had graced his life. You two had been going strong for over a year now. You still remembered your anniversary a few months ago - how warm and special it felt. He’d prepared a whole feast with the help of Chan and Felix; something he sheepishly admitted later, though you didn’t mind. Your heart was so full that night, knowing he’d made time for you amidst his chaotic schedule and prepared such a huge surprise. Everything felt right. You knew you'd found the one soul you'd want to spend your life with, even if that meant weathering struggles that sometimes drove you to the brink.

When you left your home on a whole different continent, knowing nothing beyond a few basic Korean words, the experience was overwhelming but exhilarating. You had visited him before, short trips spanning weeks, but when he asked you to move and build a life together, you hadn’t hesitated. You packed your bags and settled into an apartment shared with strangers who, thankfully, spoke English. For weeks, you spent every penny you’d saved from your previous job just to afford rent and food while searching for a job. You had experience in your field, showed great passion, and you knew you were good at what you did - but not knowing the language became a major hurdle.

You never shared the extent of your struggles with Hyunjin. His plate was already full with schedules, the band, tour and press. You didn’t want to burden him further. You knew if he’d known how bad things were, he would’ve moved heaven and earth to help - just like the rest of the boys. He was so happy to have you in his life that he would’ve given everything up, even his favorite hoodie, just to see you smile. And you would’ve done the same for him, no questions asked.

But something had shifted. Before tonight, you'd been too blind or too hopeful to see it. Every time you made time to see him, he was busy or unavailable. Texts were left on read, and hours later you’d get a rushed apology: his manager was on his case, or he had to prioritize the band. Sometimes you wondered if his previous hiatus had made the company monitor him more closely, but you tried not to overthink it. You always blamed the label, hoping they’d eventually ease up and let him breathe. For weeks, you’d watched him quietly from afar. Sometimes you managed to steal a coffee or an ice cream break together - fleeting kisses behind masks, hidden in blacked-out cars, always watching out for crazy fans or the press. The reality of dating an idol crashed down on you harder each day, especially with Stray Kids' recent surge in popularity.

That didn’t mean that you weren’t happy for them. Quite the opposite: You were proud of them. Your chest swelled with love whenever he told you about their wins, or when you saw articles about their success. Jisung or Chan would send you silly messages about what they were up to, and you'd always tell them to enjoy it, because they deserved every bit of it. But still, the distance between you and Hyunjin kept growing with each passing day. It was like an icy shackle around your heart, and tonight, it felt like it might finally snap.

You’d pulled out the dress Hyunjin had gotten you on your third date from the depths of your wardrobe - a little black one with red rose embroidery accents. You paired it with silver jewelry and the ring he gifted you for your anniversary. You had one week to plan this whole night and everything had to be perfect. You’d bought the most expensive wine you could find and cooked dinner in the dorm’s kitchen. Everything smelled like him, well and Changbin. Gym gear was scattered in the living room, and unfinished paintings leaned against the wall. You loved their space. It felt lived-in and chaotic, with touches of Hyunjin’s impeccable taste. It made your heart flutter when he first hung up photos of the two of you with Binnie cursing at how "tooth-rottingly cute" they were, threatening to hide them all if he ever brought someone over. You’d laughed at the time. Now, the memory felt unbearably heavy.

Every picture, every smile. The creases by his eyes. Your thumb now brushed over his cheek in the frame you were holding. 

How could he have forgotten?

You’d made sure that he took today off just for you two, told him to kick Changbin out for the night and to be home by 8 p.m. - dressed nicely, not that he wasn’t always stunning. You scoffed at the thought. Even hurt and angry, you were still so hopelessly smitten. You loved him with everything in you. But… could he say the same?

Your eyes flicked to the digital clock on the kitchen counter: 11:23 p.m. For over an hour, you’d fought back tears. Were you overreacting? Had something happened? You considered messaging the group chat or calling Chan - but no. You kept quiet. Your phone had buzzed a while ago with a notification. An Instagram story. Hyunjin was out, with Felix and Seungmin. Laughing, celebrating. Clearly having the time of his life. And you? You were here. Waiting. Ready to surprise him not only with dinner and wine, but also with how far you’d come in your Korean lessons. You’d practiced how to announce your promotion in Korean - just for him.

Voices echoed from the hallway. A sliver of light appeared under the front door. Your body went rigid as you heard his laugh. You would always recognize his laugh even under millions of others. He couldn’t be serious. Your jaw clenched so tight you thought your muscle might snap. Then, the sound of a key in the lock. The door creaked open. His cheeks were flushed, hair messy, and his eyes unfocused. Felix and Seungmin stumbled in behind him, all three giggling like kids. Your hand clutched the picture frame so tightly your fingers ached. The sadness vanished, replaced by something dry and sharp. You didn’t cry. Your eyes were too tired.

He didn’t even speak first.

“Y/N!” Felix beamed, that sunshine smile on full display as he bounced behind Hyunjin to see you. “Funny to see you here!” But your eyes were locked on Hyunjin, who had just now noticed you in the darkness. His gaze met yours. Your brows furrowed but you couldn’t hide how your lips trembled. The color drained from his face. Maybe, just maybe, he realized how badly he’d messed up.

You stood up slowly, pushing off the windowsill with an eerie calm for someone who'd nearly broken down hours ago. A chill ran down your spine, something cracking deep inside. Hyunjin crossed the room in a few strides, hands raised in apology. “Sweetheart, I..”

You silenced him by simply raising your hand. You didn’t want any excuses. You didn’t wanna listen to anything he had to say. Not now. Not when he used your favorite nickname - when you felt anything but loved. You felt like you didn’t belong in his world anymore.

You set the photo on the table and averted your gaze. “I’m glad you guys had a great night out,” you said. Your voice sounded foreign nearly alien, stripped of feeling. Hollow. You felt numb, cold, small. You’d poured so much into tonight. All you had needed was his time for one night. A hug. A kiss. To feel like you mattered. Like you were his priority.

But you weren’t. It was his world. You were just orbiting around it. And maybe this was the moment you needed to realize - you didn’t belong.

The knot in your throat grew as you looked up again, hoping to see even a flicker of remorse. Something. Anything. But maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something worse, because all you saw was confusion. Tiredness. No understanding.

You slid the ring off your finger, took his hand, and placed it in his palm. Slowly closing his fingers around it. You didn’t dare to look at him again. Inseam you turned to the other boys. “Felix. Seungmin,” you said quietly, nodding to each of them. They both looked stunned. Felix’s brows lifted in concern, questions on his lips. Seungmin’s jaw tightened, his eyes dark. You didn’t want to know if he was angry at you - or for you.

You forced a smile. It didn’t reach your eyes. “Thank you.” And then you slipped through the door. You walked faster and faster, the walls closing in around you. You barely made it to the elevator before your lungs felt like they’d collapse. The air outside hit you like a wave. And then - the rain. As if the sky wept for you, covering the fact that now you finally started to cry too, letting it all out.

You were running now. Barefoot, soaked, mascara smudged somewhere down your cheeks, but none of that mattered. The rain was cold, but not as cold as the hollow feeling that bloomed inside your chest. You didn’t even notice you had left your shoes behind. You just needed to get away from that place. From him. From the version of yourself that had hoped too hard, waited too long, loved too deeply without being met halfway.

Your feet carried you through familiar streets, past flickering neon lights and puddles that reflected your broken expression. You didn’t even realize where you were going until it came into view: a tall building with huge glass panels and soft blue accents. Warm light poured from the windows, and the sight of it brought a lump back into your throat. It felt like safety.

You wiped your face with trembling fingers and crossed the final distance, hoping, praying, that the person you were looking for was still inside. The door buzzed open, and the receptionist glanced up, recognizing you instantly. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t need to. She simply gave you a small, understanding smile and tilted her head toward the hallway.

“He’s still in the studio,” she said quietly. “Second on the left.” You nodded a silent thank you and walked down the hall, heart pounding, every step heavier than the last. Your hair clung to your skin, your dress damp and wrinkled, but none of that mattered. You just needed someone to remind you that your heart was still worth holding. You reached the door and paused, your hand hovering over the handle. A soft beat played inside. Familiar. Comforting. Then a voice - gentle, humming along. You pushed the door open slowly.

There he was. Sitting on the floor, laptop beside him, headphones slung around his neck. He looked up when he noticed you, surprise flickering across his face before it melted into concern. “Y/N?” The sound of your name, spoken with such warmth and no judgment, shattered the last piece of restraint you had. Your lip quivered.

He was up in an instant, arms around you before you could fall apart completely. You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. He just held you there in the dimly lit room, against the steady rhythm of a song playing quietly in the background. Your body shook with sobs as he rubbed your back gently. “You don’t have to explain,” he whispered. But eventually, you would. Not tonight. Not now.

For now, you allowed yourself to cry in his arms, to let go of the pain and disappointment, to be reminded - if only for a moment - that you weren’t alone. That somewhere in this new city, in this new life, someone still saw you. Still cared. Still made room for you.

Maybe tomorrow you’d figure out what came next.

But tonight… tonight, you let yourself breathe again.

That's it folks.. I hope you like it. I like to thank @stolperfarbenx3 for inspiring me to write this haha - let me know in the comments if you'd like to get tagged in the future!

[bloodyserratus]

intrusive thoughts

pairing: choso x fem!reader word count: 5.8k synopsis: yuji's getting married and you and choso are best man and woman. it's not your wedding though, so why do your hands keep ending up on each other? themes/warnings: SMUT! mdni, plot tho i was a smidge lazy about it, masturbation, piv intercourse, nipple play, nipple piercings!choso, sub-ish!choso, switchy reader, friends to lovers.

a/n: oof. i feel like this is a bit rushed, but he caught me on an ovulation week ig. would love to know what you think!

“YN!!”

Yuji’s familiar voice shouts your name before you can even reach the host stand. You smiled apologetically to the hostess before making your way towards him.

“Yu-ji, Yu-ji!” you hop excitedly towards the young man until you can wrap him up in a tight hug. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! Thank you for inviting me to dinner.”

“Of course!” Yuji beamed back at you.

You glanced at the table and were surprised to see how many place settings there were. You seemed to have been the first to arrive and you wondered who all he had invited. The seats filled with Yuji’s friends one by one. Megumi and Nobara were familiar names and it was nice to finally match a face to them. You watched Yuji with curiosity, noticing that he seemed to be buzzing with a sort of unusual energy. Nerves, maybe, but you’d never known Yuji to be a particularly nervous person.

A shadow fell over you as you watched Yuji converse excitedly with his coworkers. You glanced up and did a double take when you realized it was Yuji’s older brother, Choso, standing over you.

“Oh shit,” you chuckled, squinting up at him. “Something big’s going on, huh?”

It had been many a year since Yuji had summoned both you and Choso together. Not because you didn’t get along or anything, but because your lives had simply taken you in different paths. Your work had moved you an hour from the city and so occasions where all three of you were together had grown increasingly rare.

Choso took the empty seat across from you and watched as your eyes flitted to his younger brother with suspicion. He was surprised at the sense of familiarity and comfort he felt seeing you, despite it having been probably two to three years.

Choso wondered how your parents were. You’d grown up as neighbors and your parents had welcomed Choso and Yuji as practically their own. While other adults whispered nasty things about their absentee parents, yours had shared nothing but care and kindness.

“Ay ay!” Yuji stood up suddenly, lifting a glass ceremoniously. “Thank you everyone for coming! I know it’s tough to get a big group like this together typically, so I appreciate you all making the time today.”

“As you can probably guess…I have an announcement to make,” Yuji continued, “So let's just get that out of the way.”

The woman next to him stood up and placed her hand in his.

“Yuko and I are engaged!” Yuji announced loudly.

You gasped, jaw dropping. Your eyes darted to Choso, filled with excitement. You'd met Yuko once when she and Yuji had first started dating. Granted it had been years, but time really flies! You looked on happily as the group tittered and got their questions answered.

When had this happened? Had they set a date? Would it be destination or local?

“Did you know?” you kicked Choso under the table.

“I knew he'd been planning,” he answered calmly.

“I can't believe it,” you pressed your palms to your cheeks. “I remember when they just started dating.”

“You don't get back here nearly enough,” Choso commented behind a sip of water.

“I know,” your face creased with guilt and your cheeks heated up.

Choso smiled. You still couldn't seem to tell when he was just teasing you.

“What do you think? This is a big deal,” you asked.

“Yuko’s a great girl. I think they make a lot of sense together.”

“That's great. If Yuji’s happy, I'm happy,” you grinned.

Choso nodded. He couldn't agree more. His eyes softened at the corners as he watched you. You were watching Yuji with such a fond expression.

You looked on as Yuko, Yuji, and his friends chatted excitedly. You were older and not quite a part of the friend group, so it was easy to sit back and observe. It was sweet to see the way that Yuji folded Yuko seamlessly in with his friends. They were clearly a tight knit group.

“What’s up with you these days?” Choso interrupted your quiet observations.

“Not too much, to be honest. Working at the same company. Switched roles, but mostly things are the same. You?”

“You know me. Sucking blood from kids,” he shrugged.

“Can you-?” you rolled your eyes so far back into your head that all he saw were the whites. “Must you say it like that?”

Choso was a phlebotomist at the children’s hospital. A perfect respectable career, but the way he chose to describe it was still the weirdest ever. Still it paid well and the schedule was reasonable. Choso was still giggling to himself when Yuko and Yuji appeared at your side.

“YN?” Yuji approached.

“Yeah?” you turned to the two with a smile.

“I-I…I have a favor to ask,” Yuko looked at you nervously.

“What is it?”

“Um…I don’t have much family left. I-, um. Would you be willing to help me with the wedding planning?”

“Oh!” your eyes widened as you processed the ask. “Yuko, of course! I’m so honored you asked! Thank you!”

“Thank you so much!” Yuko grabbed your hands excitedly and Yuji let out a sigh of relief.

Choso watched as you and Yuko exchanged phone numbers and made plans to meet up. He wondered if you still had the same phone number.

Your phone lit up with a message as you pulled into your apartment’s parking lot. The contact was saved as a string of emojis, so you didn’t immediately recall who it was.

[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘is this still your #?”

[yn]: ‘who is this?’

[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘...rude’

[yn]: ‘????’

[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘it’s choso’

[yn]: ‘ohhhhhhhhhh! i must’ve saved you as these emojis ages ago. my bad!’

[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘what are my emojis?? 👀’

[yn]: ‘⛓️👿♟️’

[⛓️👿♟️]: ‘plz change those. 😑’

[yn]: ‘LOL don’t judge! those are from high school’

[yn:] ‘updated!’

[💉🩸]: ‘👀’

[yn]: ‘💉🩸’

[💉🩸]: ‘🥹 please’

[yn]: ‘not taking constructive criticism. good night’

[💉🩸]: ‘so mean’

You laughed, slipping your phone back into your pocket and gathering your things. You thought as you took the elevator upstairs. Once upon a time, you, Choso, and Yuji had been much closer. You’d been neighbors since you’d been born, but you hadn’t grown close until late middle school. Choso’s mother had fallen ill and then after her passing, their father, Ken, faded into absenteeism. Your parents had been unable to do anything other than welcome them in as their own. Afternoon’s and evenings were quickly filled with Choso and Yuji and the three of you became a reliable trio.

It was nice to see Choso. He had a few more years on him and it suited him.

…

You might have regretted saying yes to Yuko’s favor.

Not that you would've made a different decision, but more like you would've bought a wheelchair so that you could make Choso and Yuji push you around. Because of your limited availability, weekends had been packed with venue tours, dress fittings, and even a color analysis appointment for the four of you to help Yuko and Yuji decide on a color scheme. Nearly four hours just to learn that dark jewel tones suited you and Choso best.

You exhaled sharply, trying to keep up with Choso’s long strides. Today was maid of honor’s dress and best man’s tux trying day.

“Wait up. I got little legs!” you joked, tugging on Choso’s sweatshirt.

“Oh, sorry,” he chuckled goodnaturedly. “Was lost in thought.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” you teased, reaching up to tap him gently on the forehead.

Choso’s brow furrowed imperceptibly and he blinked down at you. He felt somehow flustered at your teasing.

“Come on!” you grabbed his hand absentmindedly and tugged him into the dress store.

“Hello!” the front desk attendant greeted you. “YN?”

“Yes! We made an appointment for nine thirty?”

“Welcome welcome! My name is May, let me show you to the fitting room,” she gestured to follow her. “We already received some notes from Yuko that we are going for jewel tones, so we’ve pulled out a handful of styles and colors to try and point us in viable directions.”

“Great!” you smiled, dropping your bag onto the couch before moving to the fitting room.

“And mister boyfriend or husband?” May turned to address Choso, “May I get you anything to drink?”

“Who?” Choso looked around. “Me?”

“Yes,” May smiled patiently.

“Water would be fine,” he answered. He must’ve misheard her.

“I’ll be right back!” she clapped her hands together sharply.

“Ooh, I love this color, but not the style,” you thought aloud as you emerged from the fitting room.

Choso agreed. As he had learned from the color analysis class, this color brought out a certain glow in your face.

You did a quick 360 for him before retreating back into the fitting room. May returned with water before you came back out with the second dress on. This one was much more suited to your shape, but the sleeves left something to be desired. A series of dresses were tried and shown to May and Choso before you tried one on that really dropped your jaw.

“You okay in there?” Choso’s deep voice checked in on you as you admired yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll be right out!” you called back, checking out the back one more time before opening the door.

“Wow…,” May’s hands came to cover her mouth with delight.

Shit. Choso sat up straight.

“I love this one,” you smiled at both May and Choso.

He nodded.

“That’s the one?” May asked kindly. “There’s absolutely no rush, so don’t feel shy about trying more on.”

“Ah, I suppose I should try a few more on, huh?” you nodded before spinning one more time in front of the trifold mirrors. This one would be hard to beat.

“Oh! I forgot! Are we taking pictures to send to the bride and groom? Or do we have full creative control today?”

“Ah shit!” you burst back out of the fitting room, holding the unzipped dress up to your chest. “We do need to take photos for Yuko. Choso, can you?” you looked toward him.

“Oh, yes, hold on,” Choso stood.

May helped to zip you back up while he searched through his pockets for his phone. He crouched back down a bit to center you in the frame and you gave him a bright smile, posing slightly. He gave you a curt nod when he was satisfied. This process repeated itself several times until you had about seven viable dress options and Choso had a veritable deck of photos in his phone for Yuko.

Then it was Choso’s turn.

“Phew! I’m glad to be back in my leggings,” you chuckled, flopping down on the couch.

“Wow, you are broad!” May remarked as she took Choso’s shoulder measurements.

Choso flushed at her comment as she moved expeditiously to his waist and then inseam.

“Are you even real?” she joked noting his shoulder to waist ratio. “Built like a Dorito chip.”

You snorted at this comment. May was kind of out of pocket and you loved it. You covered your mouth to try and hide your giggles. Choso had always been easy to fluster and apparently that hadn’t changed. Pink spread across the scrunch in his nose and crept up the tips of his ears. Despite his somewhat intimidating appearance, he was honestly adorable.

“Stop,” he whined while May pulled suits for him.

“Sorry, but that was funny,” you smiled apologetically at him, straightening your face.

“I’m not built like a Dorito!” he insisted.

“You kind of are though,” your eyes roved over him.

“You really are,” May echoed as she came back into the room with a handful of suits. “I’m gonna tell you now, we’ll need to tailor these. So I fitted to your shoulders and then we’ll pin the waist to get a sense of things now.”

Choso nodded, accepting the stack from May and retreating into the fitting room.

“So how long have you two been together?” May asked as you waited for him to emerge.

“Hm?” you looked up from your phone, “How long have we known each other? Since forever, I guess. We were neighbors growing up.”

“Ah, so you started dating more recently?”

You spat out your water.

“What?!” you looked at her with alarm. “We’re not-, what gave you that idea?”

“No?” May raised an eyebrow, giving it more serious thought. “You two look good together. It’s a vibe, I don’t know!”

Choso stepped out of the dressing room at this moment, eyebrows raised at the conversation he’d walked into.

“Oh!” your eyes widened, giving him a once over. He’d stepped out in a black suit with a deep purple dress shirt and black bow tie.

“What do you think?” he looked at you expectantly.

“You look good, man,” you nodded. “That color lady was right. Amethysty purple looks good on you too.”

“How’s the fit?” May asked, stepping towards him. “Do you have a comfortable range of motion in the arms? That’s usually the key point for suits.”

Choso moved his arms around, rotating fully above his head a few times and swinging his arms forward and backwards a few times. You couldn’t help but notice the way the shirt strained at his chest as he did so, buttons looking as if they might pop at any moment.

“It looks tight,” you couldn’t help but comment.

“It is a little,” Choso nodded, “Can we go up one size, May?”

“Sure thing!” May nodded, leaving again to grab more options.

“What do you think?” you asked behind him, watching his reflection in the mirror. “Do you want to go black suit and color dress shirt? Or do want to go color suit and black dress shirt?”

“I don’t know,” Choso shrugged, meeting your gaze in the mirror as he started to undo buttons. “I’ll try both, but I don’t really care either way. You tell me if you have a strong preference.”

“Okay,” you nodded, eyes glued to his fingers making quick work of the row of buttons.

“Whoo! Free show!” May remarked when she walked back in, quickly noting Choso’s now half exposed chest. “Here’s round two.”

“Thanks,” Choso chuckled bashfully. He was getting more accustomed to May’s bright personality.

May made a show of fanning herself as he stepped back into the fitting room. You laughed.

“I’m gonna try on the purple suit this time,” Choso called over the door.

“Sure!” you nodded.

“Okay, definitely not this,” he shook his head as he stepped out.

You had to agree. The large swath of purple was somehow…Wonkian. With a quick nod from May, Choso retreated once again, this time emerging with the black suit and purple shirt again.

“How’s that feel for sizing?”

“Good, but loose around the waist.”

“Ah yes, but that’s easily addressed,” May nodded, stepping behind him to pull darts into the shirt expertly. Like magic, the silhouette of the shirt tucked into a neat V.

“Come hold this please, YN?” she jerked her head at you. “I need to grab my safety pins.”

You nodded and grabbed the sections of fabric from May.

“This looks good,” you popped your head out from around him to remark.

Choso nodded. Your knuckles rested against the small of his back as you looked up at him. His skin prickled in a way that wasn't totally unpleasant.

“How was work this week?” you asked with a smile.

“Good,” he nodded. “Pretty busy but we were actually fully staffed, for once. You?”

“Not too bad! I'm between projects right now, so it was a fairly quiet week.”

“How is Yuji feeling about the wedding? Overwhelmed at all?”

“He seems fine,” Choso smiled.

You chuckled. That was typical, you supposed.

“Yuko seems a little overwhelmed sometimes.”

“I think so,” you nodded. “I get a panic text from her every so often. It's not too bad, just a lot of things to think about.”

Choso’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I'll talk to Yuji. If Yuko is feeling overwhelmed, he should step in and help.”

You looked at Choso with interest. Characteristically reliable.

“Found the pins!” May burst back in. “Sorry it took so long!”

“No problem,” you and Choso answered in unison.

You allowed May to pin the fabric of his shirt and Choso found himself missing your closeness when you stepped back.

“What do we think?”

“Good,” Choso nodded, tugging the suit jacket into place. “Is this color close enough to your dress?” he glanced at you.

“Oh yes, I think so,” May nodded, pulling the final dress selection out to compare.

“Then I think I'm all good,” he nodded surely.

You sent the pictures of Choso’s suit to Yuko as he changed back into his crew neck sweater and cargo pants. That was the Choso you were used to.

“Should we eat?” he smiled crookedly at you, reaching a hand out to pull you up.

“Sure!”

“I know a place,” he nodded, so you followed his lead.

…

You beamed at Choso excitedly. Cake tasting day!

“Excited?” he crossed his arms and cocked his head at you.

“Very! It's cake day!” you grinned goofily up at him.

“That it is,” he chuckled, glancing around for Yuji and Yuko. “I wonder where they are.”

“Will you call them? I'll go check in for the appointment at least.”

Choso nodded and you split up.

“Hello!” you greeted the front desk as you stepped in the door. “We have a ten-thirty appointment, but our bride and groom seem to be running a bit late.”

“Not to worry,” the receptionist smiled kindly at you.

“What's the word?” you asked Choso when he stepped inside.

“How do I, uh,” Choso flushed across the cheeks. “They're young and in love…and lost track of time. So they are going to be quite late. They think thirty minutes.”

“Oh dear,” your eyes widened and you looked towards the receptionist apologetically. “What should we do? I assume you're booked out quite a ways.”

“Yes,” she nodded regretfully. “If the two of you would like to proceed with the tasting and take notes for the bride and groom, I would recommend that as the best way to proceed.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” Choso nodded, “I am terribly sorry about this.”

“That's quite alright!” she smiled generously, “You’d be surprised that that's not the first time that's happened.”

You exchanged a surprised glance with Choso.

“Personally I’d love to be late because I was getting my back blown out instead of my usual reason, which is just poor planning.”

“Hah!” you let out a loud laugh at her remark, “Same, friend. While I am very happy for the bride and groom, all this wedding stuff is making me feel so single.”

Choso’s eyebrows raised with surprise.

“Hello my beautiful bride and groom!” a chef entered the room enthusiastically.

“Oh no, we're not,” you waved your hands at him.

“The bride and groom are running late so we will be taking notes for them,” Choso added.

“Ah, I see. Well when you are ready for your own wedding I hope you come back to see us!”

You and Choso both nodded goodnaturedly which seemed to satisfy the man, so he proceeded with cake samples. Yuko and Yuji had already decided on shape and tiers, so all you needed to do was provide input on flavors. You were grateful that the bakery had provided templates to take notes on because there seemed to be no end to the flavors you were shown.

“I think I hate cake now,” you mumbled to Choso at the end of it.

“Agreed. If I don't eat cake again until the wedding, I'd be just fine.”

You smiled at him.

“Oh you have some cake,” he gestured to his own mouth.

“Oh!” you licked your lips again and reached for a napkin.

“Here, let me,” Choso moved to brush the smudge off himself.

You didn't know what happened and neither did he, but at the end of the day Choso’s thumb slid into your mouth and your tongue had wrapped itself readily around it. Wide eyes met and you made a noise of confusion. Muffled by his large thumb, it sounded more akin to a moan.

Choso’s heart stopped for a moment. He was panicking but also frozen, staring at your lips pursed around his digit. Your mouth was wet and warm and he felt strongly that this was something that should have remained unknown to him. Then the friction of your tongue against the pad of his fingertip sent a jolt of adrenaline through him.

“Shit, I-,” he finally unfroze and pulled his hand back. “I didn't mean-.”

“Me neither,” you shook your head furiously. You were still hot with embarrassment when the receptionist came in to tie things up with you.

Awkward silence lingered over you when you and Choso left. Your goodbye was short and thoughts of his fingers plagued your mind as you drove back home.

…

Choso turned onto his stomach again. He couldn't sleep. Couldn't do much after what had happened today. Not because it was something he felt you couldn't recover from.

No, it was the want. It had settled in the pit of his stomach like a heavy weight and ignoring it wasn't helping at all.

“Fuck,” he huffed, hips grinding into the mattress. The friction was a welcome relief from the pulsating throb he’d been doing his best to ignore.

“Oh,” he exhaled sharply as he picked up the pace. He dragged his length across the soft, microfiber sheets and pictured your cheeks hollowing as you sucked around him.

He let out a ragged whine and flipped onto his back again. It wasn't enough. He propped himself up on his pillows and reached into his waistband. He cupped himself and reached for his phone. He flipped to the pictures of you saved there and zoomed in on your face. Whatever guilt he had was quickly pushed away to make room for his wild arousal. He wrapped his long fingers around himself and pumped his hips up into his fist

“YN,” your name fell from his lips repeatedly as he thrust up into his fist. His brow knotted and sweat beaded on his nose as he sought some form of relief.

…

You stared into the dark void of your room as you traced the shape of your lips. Memories of earlier replayed in your mind. The sensation of Choso’s thumb sliding across your lower lip. The friction of the pad pressing against your tongue. The wet ‘pop’ that sounded when he’d pulled back, panicked. You groaned, turning on your side and pressing your thighs together. Sadly it did not settle the throbbing, but it did offer some minor relief.

“Ah fuck it,”  you sighed, reaching into the top draw of your nightstand. You fished around for your trusty, purple vibrator and settled into the pillows so you could get this out of your system.

You did your best not to think of Choso. Well…you made an attempt.

But as soon as you closed your eyes, your mind flooded with images of Choso. Over you, supporting himself with his muscular arms as his eyes bored into. Under you, whimpering and moaning prettily, his face flushed from sensation. Kissing your neck from behind as his hands squeezed your hips.

You squeaked as the vibrator buzzed to live and you trailed it along your inner thighs. You wondered briefly how Choso might react to it being used on him and you gushed at the thought. He was so expressive…it would be so fun to just ruin him.

“Shit!?” you gasped, eyes opening as an orgasm rolled through you unexpectedly. You blinked in surprise. It usually took you much longer than that.

You contemplated for a moment while you still had post-orgasmic clarity. As someone who didn’t tend towards topping, it was surprising to feel so attracted and aroused by the idea of doing so to Choso. The idea of pressing your fingers in his mouth quickly pushed the clarity away. Imagining his soft, wet pants through your wet, slick fingers instead sent you straight down the path of unbridled madness instead.

…

“Hey!” you smiled when you saw Choso’s tall figure round the corner.

“Hey,” he smiled lazily. “Ready?”

“Yep,” you nodded, pretending as if you hadn’t spent several nights out of the last week fantasizing about this man.

You stepped into the bridal store with him. It was time for the tailored fittings. May handed you your respective garments and you both stepped into separate fitting rooms. The tailored dress fit like a glove. You smiled with delight as you spun around, getting a sense of the back.

“I love it!” you grinned at May when you stepped out. Her face lit up with delight, giving you a once over.

“You look amazing, holy shit!” she remarked.

Choso’s ears pricked, listening to you and May titter excitedly about the dress. He couldn’t wait to see you. He hurried about tucking the dress shirt into his pants and then tugging on the jacket before he stepped out to join you.

“Oh,” you breathed softly when you saw him.

He looked incredible. The suit really emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The dark purple color contrasted nicely against his skin and emphasized his eyes.

“This looks great,” you murmured, stepping forward to run your hands over the lapels. The material looked so soft.

“Ssh!” Choso jerked as if he’d been hit and you pulled back quickly.

“What?” you asked, eyebrows creased with worry.

“No, sorry,” he smiled apologetically at you. “It just took me by surprise. You grazed my piercings.”

“Piercings?” you cocked your head, staring at his chest with confusion. Heat crept up your neck and cheeks as you realized…where the piercings were.

Choso looked away, blushing too, at your realization.

“Sorry, I didn’t know,” you blinked up at him. “Can I-, um,” your hands reached out of their own accord. What the fuck were you even asking?!

“Oh, uh…,” Choso blinked. His brain wasn’t fully functioning but he knew he wanted your hands on him again. “Yeah,” he swallowed loudly.

You stepped towards him, unable to meet his eyes. You slipped your hands under his lapels and slid them across his chest. Your fingers splayed and traced over his ribcage, his toned torso, and up to his pecs. You could feel the way his chest expanded and contracted with each breath.

Choso watched you as your hands roamed. You wouldn’t look at him, but your hands explored him greedily. His breaths were shallow as your fingertips searched out his piercings. An exhale hitched in his throat when they finally met. Your fingertips were gentle as they traced the beads. He bit back a moan as your fingertips brushed against his nipples, feeling the flesh around the bar, through the fabric of his shirt. It was difficult to ignore the way he was straining against his slacks.

“Choso,” you exhaled breathlessly and looked up at him. His face was red and his brow was scrunched up.

“I-, oh?” May walked in, pausing suddenly at your proximity.

“Ah, hi May!” you turned quickly to face her.

“Hello! How are we doing in here?” she asked, eyes flitting between you and Choso slowly.

“Good,” you nodded.

“Everything fits well?”

“Yes,” Choso nodded. He was eager to wrap this up so that he could discuss what had just occurred with you.

“Wonderful!” May smiled. “Well then you can get changed back into your street clothes. Yuko requested that we hold onto the entire party’s dresses and suits until the day of the event, so they will be here.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded.

You ducked back into the dressing room and tried to get a grip. What the hell had you been thinking? You needed to eat some grass. You shook your head as you changed back into your casual clothes. You waited for a moment or two, but then wondered if he had left already. Shrugging, you supposed that you didn’t need to wait for him and so stepped outside.

“Hey,” he scared the living daylights out of you as you walked by, checking messages on your phone.

“Shit, hey,” you hissed at him with surprise.

“Should we talk?” he looked down at you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“We should,” you nodded, “But I’m nervous.”

“What for?” he asked with a soft smile.

You supposed that was a good question. This was Choso after all.

“I just,” you huffed, “Not sure I have an explanation.”

Choso stepped forward, bringing himself toe to toe with you. He lowered his face to yours before he spoke again.

“You like me?”

You contemplated for a moment before relenting. Of course you did.

“Yes,” you met his gaze, lips nearly grazing his now.

“Would you like to act on it?”

You didn’t have to think too hard about this one.

“Yes,” you nodded.

Choso grinned and placed his hands around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He lowered his lips against yours and kissed you enthusiastically.

“I’ll be honest. You got me fired up in there,” he chuckled against your lips. “But I don’t need to go fast if you’re not ready.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled against his lips. Choso was so respectful. “You got me bad.”

“Did you drive?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“Want to come to mine?” he suggested.

You nodded and he led you to his car.

Your bodies were a jumble after he managed to unlock his door. You kissed along his jaw, down his neck, and nipped at his collarbone as he backed you towards his bedroom. You let your hands roam freely this time, tracing the flexing lines of his muscles eagerly. What the hell was he hiding under there?

As if he’d read your mind, Choso leaned back for a moment and pulled his shirt off over his head. Your mouth fell open with surprise. Your eyes traced from his face, over his shoulders, down the sides of his torso, and landed on the dusting of hair below his belly button. 

“What the fuck?” you brought your hands to your mouth. “You look like that?!” you nearly shouted at him.

“What?” he shrugged, having the audacity to be shy.

“Lay down, please,” you insisted, grabbing him and pushing him onto the bed. A body like that really did deserve to be worshiped.

You held yourself up over him and pressed a soft kiss against his chest. Choso beamed at you before you blazed a trail down his torso. You placed kisses across his jaw, down his neck, and into his collarbone. You bit gently on his full pec and paused just before his nipple.

“Is it okay?” you looked pointedly at him.

“Yes!” he nodded furiously. He was aching for you.

“Hm!” you hummed with delight and lowered your mouth to him. Your tongue rolled over the piercing, savoring the new sensation.

Choso squeezed his eyes shut as you tongued his sensitive nipple. Sweat was beading up on his nose and brow as you, knowingly or not, tortured him, pulling loud and strangled moans out of him. His large hands found purchase on your hips where you straddled him and he bucked up desperately against you, needing some sort of friction or relief.

You shivered slightly when you unlatched your mouth. It was surprising how much the sounds of Choso’s moans spurred you on.

“You. Are. So. Gorgeous.” you spoke as you placed more kisses against his serratus, lats, and abs. You nuzzled your nose against his happy trail as you pulled his sweatpants down over his hips.

Choso groaned when you grasped him at the base. You kissed your way up the underside before swallowing him into your wet, warm mouth. He was big. Your lips stretched around his girth as you sucked up and down his veiny length.

“Enough,” you were surprised when he pulled you off of him. “I need to be inside of you,” he explained.

You nodded, making quick work of your clothes. You climbed back on top of him and he positioned himself against your wet lips, spreading you apart with his fat head. You rested your forearms on his shoulders as you worked your hips, coating the dark head of his cock with your juices.

“Shitttt,” Choso groaned, deep and throaty as you teased him. “Please, I need more,” he begged.

“Yes,” you answered him simply and lowered yourself onto him completely. You moaned contentedly as he stretched you out.

Choso gripped your hips, helping as you bounced up and down his shaft. His eyes glazed over watching his cock disappear repeatedly into your juicy cunt and his hands gripped you so hard that they might bruise. He tugged you down over and over again, ramming himself into you deep and hard.

“Choso, baby,” you gasped, hands in his hair now for support as he fucked you. “I’m close. I’m so close, baby.”

Choso grinned at 'baby' and nodded, keeping the pace as your orgasm crashed through you. He found himself marveling at how gorgeous you looked as you came apart, bouncing on his cock for him.

“You good?” he asked as you recovered, still lodged deep inside of you.

“Really good,” you smiled at him, skin glowing with sweat. An idea popped into your head suddenly. “What are the chances you have a vibrator?” you asked coyly.

“Why?” he regarded you with suspicion.

“No reason,” you giggled, tracing his nipples with your fingertips gently. You were rewarded by a twitch of his cock, which was all the confirmation you needed.

“I don’t have one, sadly,” he shook his head, shuddering as you continued in little semicircles over his nipples. Your hips followed shortly, grinding against him and Choso’s breathing developed into ragged whimpers and moans.

“That’s okay,” you lapped at his other nipple with your tongue as his face got redder and redder.

“Fuckkk,” he cursed, high pitched and desperate as he grew somehow harder inside of you.

You increased speed slightly, circles tighter and faster against his pert nipples as you bounced on top of him. Choso buried his face into your neck before letting out a loud groan. He held you down on him, releasing deep inside with a few heavy twitches.

“Next time, come to mine,” you smiled mischievously at him. “I do have a vibrator.”

Choso let out a genuine chuckle before pulling you into his chest in a warm hug.

“Deal.”

[little-cereal-draws]

@nonbinarylocalcryptid has put this au in my head so here are some headcanons for Odysseus adopting Astyanax instead of killing him

When Odysseus finally gets home, Astyanax is ten and Telemachus is twenty, about to turn twenty one

Astyanax is incredibly furiously jealous of Telemachus. He doesn’t know who this guy is or why Odysseus is so obsessed with him. He isn’t used to having to share his dad’s attention

He tries to come up w ways of getting Odysseus to focus only on him but he’s never successful. Either he gets in trouble for doing smth bad or he tries to start a game and it gets turned into a whole family activity

He gives up after a few weeks and sulks by himself exploring the palace and city. Odysseus eventually finds him and they have some much needed one on one time. Astyanax is ecstatic

Telemachus is incredibly furiously jealous of Astyanax. He doesn’t know who this kid is or why Odysseus is so obsessed with him. He isn’t used to having to share his dad’s attention

Him and Odysseus are trying to make up for lost time and Astyanax keeps bursting in and being super annoying. He’s so glad every time Odysseus shoos him away. He desperately needs this one on one time

Astyanax isn’t sure abt Penelope. She’s very nice, makes an effort to connect to him, and Odysseus hasn’t stopped raving abt her for as long as he can remember. But hearing abt someone in a story is different from actually meeting them. She a total stranger. He warms up to her after a while but for the first month or so, he’s very shy and apprehensive around her

He doesn’t consider her his mom tho, only Odysseus’ wife. He used to think calypso was his mom (she would be the first woman he would be old enough to remember and they lived w her for most of his life) but now he’s content to not have a mom. He only needs his dad anyway

After about a year or so, both Astyanax and Telemachus begrudgingly accept that they’ll have to share Odysseus. They’re both not thrilled abt it but they’re not angry anymore either

Telemachus is a self sufficient adult at this point and spends a lot of time doing his own thing. He’ll go on trips, go hunting, attend his parents’ court, try to woo maidens, debate policy and philosophy w the advisors (which can get pretty complicated when his parents join; his dad especially loves having battles of wits), etc

Astyanax is a preteen and very curious abt what Telemachus is getting up to and what the adult life of a prince is like. He followed him secretly at first but quickly got found out. Telemachus thought it was kinda weird at first but then was a little flattered

He started letting Astyanax accompany him (to an extent. Long trips and wooing maidens are off limits lol). But he’ll take him to court, on quick trips, to his fighting lessons, to intellectual debates, etc.

Penelope isn’t so sure but Odysseus is adamant that learning by experience is just as valuable as structured lessons and they should just be happy that they’re finally getting along lol

The only part he has a problem w is the trips. He’s already anxious when Telemachus leaves on his own but when he takes Astyanax too… The thought of potentially losing both his sons, them taking years to return, or them being harassed by the gods eats him alive. It’s terrible to watch. He doesn’t eat, barely sleeps, doesn’t do any work. The only thing he does is sit by the door to the palace and wait for them to come back. Not even Penelope can soothe him

It’s worse when they go on a boat. Even if they’re only taking a one day trip to the city next over, he’s literally shaking w stress. Instead of sitting by the door, he’ll sit in Poseidon’s temple and do nothing but pray for their safe passage, not stopping at all for food or sleep

Telemachus has offered to leave Astyanax so he feels a bit better but he insists that he’s fine. It’s more important that the two of them bond, form good relations w their neighbors that will benefit them when they’re the king, and become more worldly. He’s fine. He swears it. He’s fine

Telemachus has taught Astyanax how to shoot a bow, how to track animals, how to identify plants, and how to basically do anything that doesn’t involve living on a boat lol

They’ll spar too. Astyanax is much better than Telemachus was at his age and Telemachus is a little jealous abt it. If he didn’t win anyway bc he’s bigger and stronger, he definitely would be angry

It’s weird tho bc he’ll be like “how did you learn that move? It was super advanced." And Astyanax will just casually be like “dad taught me after we fought a harpy.” And Telemachus is reminded that this kid has spent more time w his dad than he has. He never got to have his dad teach him how to fight but this other kid did. It’s not fair. He pushes it deep down and ignores it

Astyanax is aware of what happened to his biological family. Odysseus told him when he was eight. He was a teary mess, barely able to get the story out, but Astyanax wasn’t distraught like Odysseus expected. Astyanax was quiet for a long time, thinking, then went off on his own for a while but by the time it was night, he seemed to have moved pass it

He didn’t remember that family so he wasn’t very upset. He definitely thought it was messed up that he was taken in by the enemy that killed his whole family and destroyed his city but Odysseus was nice and it beat being killed too so he wasn’t complaining

Sometimes he’ll lay awake and wonder what his life would’ve been like if he had grown up in Troy tho. How his biological dad would’ve raised him. How different his life would’ve been if he hadn’t been constantly moving around and fighting for his life. As a kid, he can’t even begin to imagine what that would feel like bc he’s never known it. But by the time he’s grown, it’s different

Telemachus is on the throne now; Odysseus retired and just hangs around now. There are rumors that he's gone mad and even tho it's 100% false, he does nothing to stop the rumors bc he thinks it's funny and likes to mess w ppl

Astyanax is in his mid to late twenties now and he's feeling like he doesn't belong in Ithaca. He looks different from the rest of his family, he's got a much darker and complicated past than most of them, and every time they talk abt war in the court he can't help but get angry and closed off

Tho to Telemachus' credit he's a very fair king and does his best to avoid war and getting involved in other people's wars. That's how he lost his dad for so long and he's not making Ithaca go through smth like that again

Astyanax decides that he needs to see Troy. What's left of it, any new civilizations that replaced it, anything he can find. He's a little worried about the trip across the sea but figures if he did it once before, he can do it again

There's nothing when he gets there. Most of the wood has rotted and the ground is black and charred. He can walk the Greek camp based off the burnt fire pits, the tent peg holes in the earth, and the rotted outlines of the thick wall. The field in between the camp and Troy is littered with swords, spears, arrows, shields, and the occasional chariot wheel. Troy is a ghost town. The only thing left are the great walls. The inside is baren and empty

When he returns, he's furious. His "dad" destroyed his entire civilization. Except for him, no mercy was shown. It was a horrible, monstrous thing to do. (He's forgotten the memory of how much Odysseus cried telling him what he did)

He goes off on Odysseus. Odysseus is partly resigned (he knew this day was coming and he’s in the wrong) but he’s still a stubborn ass who resorts to violence instead of talking things out so the fight gets pretty explosive. It stays an argument but only just barely

They both have swords in their hands when Telemachus comes in. He tries to talk them down and pretends he doesn’t know what the fight is abt even tho the whole palace can hear them yelling

Astyanax asks for Odysseus to be executed, banished, or otherwise punished in someway. Telemachus won’t do it. Astyanax is furious that he’s not taking his side. Telemachus didn’t see what he saw. He didn’t lose his whole family and get kidnapped by the man who murdered them. He has no idea how it feels to have your whole world flipped on its head

Astyanax debates fighting both Odysseus and Telemachus but decides against it. He storms out, gets on a boat, and goes back to Troy. He wanders around there for a while until he finds a civilization to join

Years go by. Odysseus dies, Telemachus has his own kids and grandkids. His hair is starting to go gray. Then one day a messenger runs in announcing the approach of a foreign army

Telemachus runs out to see the threat and a fleet of twelve boats is abt to enter Ithaca’s harbor. At the prow of the biggest one is Astyanax, torch in hand. He’s going to burn Ithaca like they burnt Troy

The prophecy is fulfilled

[lover-of-mine]

Hii!! I was thinking about buck and the concept of home and his different romantic relationships with it cause i realized with buck asking tmmy to live together they established a patern that was already there of course but well, this being the last one and having this patern aswell, it settles it in my mind. We know it was there with abby obviously he moved into her house, then with ali she helped him look for the loft and was supposed to stay there when she was in the city, then taylor where they try to move in together then well everything we know that follows, the couch of it all etc and then natalia where nothing is talked about it in that sense but well him saying lets pick a couch together was pretty much also an implication. Im sorry if you talked about this before but yes i was thinking about this because FICS lol and the connection eddie already has through all of bucks relationships ("this is eddies house im not really a guest") and the potential it could have in the future if they decide to make a direct parallel to abby. Feel free to just send me a link if youve already talked about it. And as always thank you for your insight 💕

Hi darling. I don't think I talked about this all that recently, and if I did I mostly talked about it in the sense that the loft is a symbol of Buck's failed relationships and that I would like it if Buck made the choice to move on his own the last time someone was talking about the loft burning down lol. But yeah, Buck asking Tommy to move in solidified the way Buck jumps because he's scared. It's not something discussed, it's a reaction to something else, I guess with Ali not that much but he did get the place with her in mind and I would assume she decorated it too, that being her job and all. But asking Taylor to move in to trap her with him, asking Tommy to move in because he's insecure, even the couch with Natalia probably would've been explored a bit further if she had stuck around (I will never let go of the conspiracy theory that the Marisol moving in plot was a bucktalia plot they repurposed). The Abby of it all is interesting because he "accidentally" moves in, he is helping her with her mom's death and ends up lingering, so it isn't a conscious choice, it was Buck being all in. And it's interesting that his reaction to feeling insecure in his relationships is that all in movement, because it didn't work before, but he still acts as if making things that serious will make them love.

I am extremely curious about the loft when talking about Buck from now on. Because with the loft being the place Buck's relationships begin and end, the symbolism in the way Ali showed she couldn't handle who he is in there, and Taylor and Tommy kissing him and the respective breakup also happening there, Natalia leaving the dinner date. The choice is not really Buck's. And they use the loft in a very purposeful way on a meta level, even tho there are no walls, there is an obvious divide in the spaces, like the way kitchen, I would say the sides and back of the counter is the space he's comfortable, and it's a space for family, we only see Maddie, Chris, Jee, Eddie, and I think Hen in that space, and the times we see Taylor in it the scene goes south real quick, like when Buck decides she's breaking up with him in 509 and when he tells her about the cheating in 513. The dining room, I would assign the front of the counter and the space with the table, has a lot of more emotionally charged moments but it's a less serious space, it's where Buck keeps most people. The space under the loft is made "for guests" by his mother and it really isn't a space we see Buck a lot in while in a casual mood. The stairs are for uncomfortable truths, like 316 when he's talking about being left behind or when he's waiting for Taylor for the breakup in 518. I'm getting side tracked lol, but the way we now have 3 breakups happening in there is making me eye it. Because the loft is not home, we don't interpret the loft as home. Even going back to 218 when he gets it and the joke Ali makes that he's a "perpetual roommate even in his own place".

And on the other side, we have Eddie's house, "this is Eddie's house, I'm not really a guest", a very interesting line considering at that point we hadn't seen Buck in the house alone, the hangouts we witness are all in the loft, I'm pretty sure the first time we see Buck in the house alone with Eddie and Chris is 403, because 310 has Hen and Denny and 311 is a party, but Buck has a key to the house, we see him in the house when Eddie isn't there, 612 makes a point of showing Buck uncomfortable in his own house just to fall asleep at Eddie's in seconds. He panics and shows up at Eddie's door. So if the speculation is right and Buck ends up at the house after Eddie leaves for Texas it could have some fun connotations for what it means for Buck. Because we did lowkey establish that Buck forces connection by moving in together because "why be apart when they could be together" as if the constant presence is gonna make him feel better, will make the house feel more like home. So what would it mean for him to end up at Eddie's if Eddie isn't there? Would that lead him to the realization that home isn't the house, it is Eddie and Chris and he doesn't need to force that connection? Would it add up to the way he clung to Abby's place because he liked the way she made him feel even though she left him and the house wasn't that anymore? And will that lead to a revelation when Eddie comes back because Abby never did? I don't know if this makes a lot of sense, but let's just say that they used Tommy to solidify most of Buck's bad habits, and one of those is the loft of it all, so something about Buck choosing to leave because he hates that Eddie isn't around anymore and he wants to find him somewhere makes sense to me.

Obviously, there's also the chance of Eddie showing up to the loft and helping change the meaning of it too, but I just have a feeling the houses and the definition of home will play a part in whatever is unfolding.

[int-writersmind]

Steady?

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: It's been a few months of you and Peter's situationship, a run in with Spider-Man has you reconsidering your feelings for him.

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Fluff (w/ some notes of Spice/Smut nothing crazy tho)

Final Part of Potential Customer (could be read as a standalone)

The warm shine of sun was a great reprieve from the cold, brisk, late fall air. You hurry down the sidewalk, dodging and weaving through the crowd of people that blocked your path to work, you were rushing back from a doctor’s appointment in a different borough. You pull at your long red scarf, as you wait with a growing group of people for the sign to turn from a red hand to a white stick man.

Suddenly, Boom! 

An explosion from one block over causes everyone in the vicinity to scream, scramble, and panic in many different directions. You had been in the city for a few years now and understood where you lived and the type of spanx-wearing, super-powered beings that were your neighbors. But for whatever reason, the only interaction you ever had with them came in the form of watching recaps on the news or clips on social media after the fact. 

Now, you were in the middle of something major, and if you didn’t react–

“Guys I know the weather’s brutal, but I don’t think TNT makes great firewood!”

As you move behind the corner of a building, you look up and notice a red and blue figure swinging above you. That outfit and that voice only belong to the city’s resistant arachnid base hero– Spider-Man. 

You know you should get to safety, hell you really should be getting the hell out of here. But still, like many other New Yorkers in awe of the city they live in, you found yourself watching as Spider-Man tussles it out with some newbie criminals.

Spider-Man flips and jumps out of gunfire, webbing up nearby garbage cans and tossing them back in response. All with quip-y dialogue to boot. Actually, now that you think about it, his jokes reminded you of Peter’s, that customer-turned-occasional-hook-up you were seeing recently. That Peter you were desperate to make more than just a hookup–

“Make any sudden movements and I’ll blow ya brain out that pretty head of yours!”, you felt a hand cover your mouth, the coldness of the barrel of a gun pressed against your temple. “I won’t hurt ya, just need ya so I can get out of here.” said the petty Criminal, with the gun to your head and the other hand guiding your shoulder forward. The panic was settling in, but you didn’t want to make any sudden decisions that would put you in any more harm. The Criminal was panic-y himself, whipping you left and right as he headed away from the scene of the crime, his head on a swivel.

“...And this little piggy thought the Big Ole Spider didn’t see him run away.” With one sudden turn, the Criminal stopped in front of a light post where Spider-Man crouched on top of the blub. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you on your way in a jiffy.”

“Don’t you move Spider-Man! I’ll do it!” said the Criminal.

“Whelp, haven’t heard that a hundred times.”

The Criminal turns the gun outwards, but before he can shoot, a web shoots out, Spider-Man ripping it out from his hands. In one swift motion, Spider-Man leaps from the lamppost behind the Criminal. The Criminal in turn throws you off of him, causing you to fall to the ground. Spider-Man double kicks the Criminal, one in the back, one to the head, knocking him out.  

“Are you ok?” Spider-Man goes to offer you a hand but stops mid-way, his head snapping towards the Criminal. In two motions Spider-Man shoots a web toward the Criminal, pulling out a bomb from his chest, and another web shooting towards you pulling you close to him. “Hang on tight.”

Spider-Man swings the bomb so that it explodes in the air, while he swings away, you in one arm, your own arms locked around his neck.

He swings you far from the explosion, your stomach lurching as if you were on a thrill ride with too many drops, the cold wind whipping past your head. You tried your best to hold in your screams, the guy saved you, the least you can do is not blow out his ear drums. But the longer the swinging continued the more you thought he was extending this trip for his own pleasure.

After a few more swings, Spider-Man lands the two of you on a residential building's rooftop garden. He gently places you down on the ground, it takes you a minute to compose yourself.

“Thank you Spider-Man, I definitely won’t forget this day.” You say, in between gasps.

“Now you’ve joined the exclusive club of those who swung with Spidey!”

You place your hands on your hips, “Don’t know if that’s something I’m glad I achieved. Seems like you took the scenic route to get to safety.”

“Maybe I was trying to show you a good time. Can’t get those views from anywhere else.”

You felt your cheeks redding a little, “Careful Spider-Man, sounds to me like you’re flirting.”

With a quick little backflip, Spider-Man lands on the edge of the rooftop, perching like he was on the lamppost. You, now glad to be on solid ground, move closer to him, arms crossed against your chest. “Maybe I’m just a flirtatious guy?”

“I don’t know how my boyfriend will feel when he hears about this.”

Obviously, you couldn’t see, but you can almost feel the dumbfounded look on Spider-Man’s face ,like he was surprised at your response. “Boyfriend?”

“Well, I guess he’s not actually my boyfriend,” You start to pace back and forth, “But this guy I’ve been seeing…well, I don’t know…there’s just something about him. We spend a lot of time together, doing…certain activities…but after, when it’s all said and done, we just have these moments where we’re just really clicking together. Conversations about everything and nothing at the same time, sharing jokes with one another.

 “God, I just love it when he laughs, and when he smiles you can see that he has a slight chip in one of his teeth, on the left side, I think it’s adorable.” Almost as if he wasn’t thinking, Spider-Man’s hand goes to his jaw, stroking the left side of his face, strange if you think about it. 

“Sorry, I know you have tons of stuff that you would rather do than listen to some random person's relationship drama. Weirdly, you’re like really easy to talk to.” You say, rubbing your hands together before sticking them into your coat’s pockets.

“They don’t call me Friendly-Neighborhood Spider-Man for no reason.” You chuckle at his response, “Anyway, I hope you tell this boyfriend-non-boyfriend of yours how you really feel about him, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“Will do, and hey, stay safe Spider-Man.”

With a two-finger salute, Spider-Man backward dives off the side of the roof, you rush forward just in time to see him shoot a web and swing back to the former scene of the crime.

You back away from the side of the roof, suddenly aware of where you were, or in fact–

“Wait? How the hell do I get down from here?”

~

You burst through the front door, a few minutes late since thankfully Spider-Man left you closer to your work rather than further away, lucky huh? What was not so lucky was the five minutes it took to get off the roof.

You murmur apologies to your fellow co-worker as you take your position at the front counter, relieving them to go in the back and sort some new shipments. You barely unzip your jacket before the front door even dings, causing you to go into straight customer service mode. Well, until you notice who the “customer” actually is.

“Oh, hi Peter.” You sigh, reaching up to take off your hat, shoving it into your jacket’s pocket, shimming out said jacket, and throwing it to the side, still leaving your scarf on. “Um, didn’t expect to see you? Need something?”

“Uh, yes, no, kinda?” He chuckles dryly, rubbing the back of his neck as he approaches the front counter. “I was just in the neighborhood and thought I swing bye, ha-ha…”

“Always glad to see you,” You lean over the counter, resting both elbows on the top so that you’re closer to Peter. “Hey, you free tonight for some certain activities.” You wiggle your eyebrows suggestively, giggling to break the tension, Peter laughs back in response.

“Yeah, yeah, definitely,” Peter’s eyes dart from each of your eyes, down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “Um, actually can we do more than just certain activities? Like dinner or something?”

You feel your face begin to heat up again, rising from the pit of your stomach, up the back of your neck, showing on your cheeks for Peter to see. “Sounds…cute, good actually, real good. But nothing fancy, I have this recipe that this elderly regular gave me a few days ago that I want to try. Says it’s popular with a lot of young men.”

“Sounds good to me.” Peter’s eyes are still locked on yours, his gaze piercing through your soul, but in a good way. Actually, it was kind of turning you on, almost more than other things he’s done to you in the privacy of each other’s beds.

“Peter, were you really in the neighborhood, or were you coming to see me?”

“Can’t both of those statements be true?”

“Oh, so you saw Spider-Man? He stopped this heist or robbery, whatever, around the block from here actually.”

Peter breaks eye contact, locating one of your hands and taking it in his. “Ugh, I must have just missed him. You’re not hurt or anything?”

“Oh no, Spider-Man made sure I was safe and sound, personally.”

The two of you laugh.

“Hey, stop flirting with the customers and do some actual work!” Your co-worker says, peeking their head from the back of the shop.

“I guess I better get out of here, don’t want to get you in any more trouble.” Peter says, looking down at your hands still intertwined, not yet ready to let go.

You bring up your interlocking hands to your mouth, placing a kiss on Peter’s. “Bye, Peter.”

You let go of him, slightly pushing yourself off the counter when suddenly Peter pulls you back close by the ends of your scarf, placing a kiss on your lips. His cold nose brushed against yours. When he moves back, lips barely away from yours, you can’t help but sigh in response. Like a character in some kind of romance novel. “Too much?” he asks.

You just smile and shake your head no, “Your nose is cold, here take my scarf.”

You lift your scarf off your head and place it over Peter’s, throwing one end over one of his shoulders. “See you tonight.”

“Yeah,” Peter walks backward, winking as he walks out the door, “Later!”

~

Ding-Dong!

Of course, the doorbell rings right at the moment when you are getting ready to make your sauce for the pasta dish. You debated whether or not to let the doorbell ring some more, finally pulling yourself away from the stove.

When you open the door, you’re met with Peter standing there with a modest, but gorgeous bouquet of flowers (one flower hanging by a thread), and your scarf hanging from his neck.

“My goodness, Peter you shouldn’t have,” Your hands hover close to the bouquet, eyes darting from the flowers to Peter’s eyes. “Ah, you really shouldn’t. I hate flowers.”

Peter’s face falls, shock, panic, and fear, (maybe everything all wrapped up at once) play across his face. “Oh-Uh, I just thought–”

“Oh, hon,” You pull him close by the ends of your scarf, mimicking what he did earlier. “I’m just fucking with you.” You kiss him gently, deepening it as Peter kisses you back. Is this what this thing between the two of you was becoming? Visiting each other at work, having dinner together, causal kisses, flowers? Peter must want this relationship to be more than just a casual hook-up too.

You both break the kiss off, still remaining close, looking at one another deeply. You blink rapidly to pull yourself back into reality. “Come in, dinner’s almost ready.”

~

Empty plates and cups half filled with budget wine lay to the side on your table in your living room. The two of you were too wrapped up in conversation on the couch to even reach for your drink.

“Yeah, I guess I was just really lucky, being in the right place at the right time to get that picture. Front page and everything.” Peter resting his head on his hand, his elbow resting on the top of the couch.

“Luck and craziness” You sat, legs tucked underneath you, body turned towards Peter, hands wringing in your lap. “You know, these conversations are actually still interesting even with all our clothes on.”

“Yeah,” he reaches for your hand again, holding it in your lap, “But maybe I’m still imagining you naked, in my bed.” He moves in closer, “Sweaty, hair stuck to your face…”

“Wow, someone’s bold this evening.”

“I don’t know, I just feel…I don’t know…”

You go to push back a little tuft of brown hair behind his ear. “I get it, babe.”

Peter groans in response, leaning forward, pecking at your lips. “I know you like using pet names as jokes, but I just…love it when you say them.”

“Ok, Love,” you say as Peter keeps moving forward until you move your legs from underneath you. Peter kisses you into the couch, holding your face with one of his hands. “Darling?”

“Yes?” Peter says, in between kisses on your lips, face, and neck.

“Can I ask you something?”

Peter stops immediately, looking at you directly, “Yeah?”

“Can we…can we be more than just…god, can we be more than just certain activities? I know you said you didn’t…don’t have the time for a serious relationship and all, and I know I said it was ok and all…

“Yes, yes, of course,” Peter says.

“Yes?”

“I-I know what I said, and maybe this-this might be difficult to juggle but,” Peter caresses your face with his thumb, “I wanted this to be more for awhile but didn’t know how to bring it up. Maybe the flowers were a bit on the nose.”

You run your hands across his face, just like you did so many times before, Peter nuzzles his face against your hand. “Ok so let’s make this official. Peter Parker, will you go steady with me?”

Peter chuckles, “Of course, I’ll go steady with you.” He kisses you deeply again, caressing your head as he does so. 

You're so caught up in the moment, in the kiss, that nothing else matters in that moment. The more he kissed you, the more your body craved every inch of his, and you felt just the tiniest of guilt for it.

“I know I agree to a nice simple dinner, but can we…”

“Oh god yes,” Peter smiles before lowering himself down your body, “But let’s start a little differently, can I?”

“Oh yes please…”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Oh wow, first series done! I hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I have another Peter Parker x Reader (since I'm still on the Parker train *choo choo*) in the tank, which I'll post Wednesday and have plans for a holiday theme PP x reader series, than maybe I'll take a break from writing Peter Parker??? Idk don't want to burn out on him but we'll see.

Anyway comment if you like, so I'm not just talking into the void, but no pressure! Thanks again and see you next time!

masterlist

[lenalenouilleisblogging]

2024 feminist movie retrospective ~ day 13

Hello and welcome back to the retrospective ! I was on a break due to being dead unfortunately. Let's get back into it by talking about something fun. This was originally a rapid fire review, but i had too much to say so it's getting promoted. Not putting a dark content warning on this one because it's pretty tame, but keep in mind that there's still.... death and stuff (like with my Memory review, some images' descriptions are additional comments! Please read them!)

Watched : May 18th at my city's main theater. The showing was pretty packed.

The Planet of the Apes franchise is super important to me. Yeah yeah, "fork found in kitchen" i know. I'm a furry so i must love the talking ape films. And.... yeah, i guess ? I guess it maybe all comes down to the fact that ever since i was a tiny autistic baby girl i fantasised about being a non-human creature and biting and running on all fours and howling... I did all these things by the way. The other kids never liked me for some reason... Yes. watching these films makes me fantasise about swinging through trees and eating bugs off my friends' hair. But i also happen to be a sci-fi fan and overall film freak, as well as a zoology enthusiast who lovessss primates. So strap in, it's yapping time.

The Planet of the Apes IP started with a french novel by author Pierre Boulle in 1963 (the same guy who wrote The Bridge over the River Kwai 10 years before) which was adapted into a very popular USAmerican science-fiction movie in 1968. The movie did a fairly good job of changing necessary things for a new medium while keeping the original political message of the book, and it was a huge commercial success. The film then got 4 sequels up to 1973. The sequels are all original stories but try to stay coherent with the themes and values of the book. The movies have incredible soundtracks and sound design, beautiful costumes and makeup for all the ape performers (tho unfortunately the budget got cut very harshly with each sequel so by the end of the series the costumes were kept together with plastic tape and prayers 😭), great camera work and fantastic dialogues. These movies and the novel that inspired them are staples of modern sci-fi that are still remembered for their strong anti-racist message and bleak, pessimistic themes.

The franchise then got a reboot in 2001 with a new film by Tim Burton. The story was this time completely removed from the book and its themes and presented itself purely as a reimagining of the films rather than an adaptation of the novel. The story was then supposed to continue in sequels but the film was such a flop on every level that thankfully, they were never made. The film had good music and good costume and makeup work but apart from that, honestly nothing was salvageable. One of the worst stories i've had the displeasure of witnessing on the big screen. Poor Pierre Boulle had just died less than 7 years ago, Tim Burton could have just went to his grave and pissed on it. That would have been less of an insult.

POTA was then rebooted again in 2011 with Rise of the Planet of the Apes, which spawned two sequels: Dawn of the Planet of the Apes in 2014 and War for the Planet of the Apes in 2017. That trilogy was a complete story by itself, but a sequel and the start of a new trilogy came out last year with Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, the movie that interests us today.

So what exactly happens in this story? Well in the first series, (please keep in mind that i am massively oversimplifying here, and not going over certain details for the sake of time and to not spoil you) a group of human astronauts led by George Taylor crash on a planet where evolution has taken a very different path. Humans are wild animals incapable of speech and are hunted for sport and science by gorillas, orangutans and chimpanzees, the superior species of the planet. They talk, wear clothes, live in houses, you get the picture. When it is revealed to the apes that our main character Taylor can speak, it creates a massive moral debate for their society. Taylor tries to survive and make sense of it all, helped by a couple of friendly chimpanzee scientists, Zira and Cornelius.

Some of the sequels show the aftermath of this first contact between two dominant evolved species, while some take a look back at how this world came to be. I'm not gonna spoil any of that because i think everyone should watch these films, i strongly recommend them. Similarly to my beloved Star Trek the Original Series which was airing around the same time, these films are as much about sci-fi concepts as they are about metaphors and satires. And they do that extremely well. They're very smart, purposeful and well thought-out films that will make you think. If you're a reader, i actually recommend starting with the novel ! It is widely available and very easy to find on pdf. It's also fairly short.

In the 2001 movie, uuuuh.... Things.... Happen. It's trying to redo the story of the first film while missing its point, so not great. It also thinks it's automatically more interesting to add more twists everywhere and uh... Yeah, don't watch it.

The "modern" trilogy started in 2011 was a massive story shift for this franchise. For the first time, the main character is an ape. For the first time, apes are played by motion capture performers with the help of CGI, and not by people in costumes. And you can also see the cultural shift in how we write sci-fi stories. These new movies are less about the metaphor and more about down to earth, realistic concepts treated completely seriously. In the first series (without spoiling too much) everything was based on a strange time travel paradox. Here, it's about a scientist who, in trying to heal his father's alzheimer, accidentally dooms humanity.

Well maybe you need a few more details. Even if I don't want to spoil. Sure. Basically in the last trilogy (once again please remember that i am oversimplifying) this scientist tested his cure on a chimp, not knowing that she was pregnant. That resulted in Caesar, the chimp baby that the scientist ends up adopting, being abnormally smart. The cure turns out to be dangerous for humans but unfortunately it escapes the lab. This new virus makes ALL apes very smart👍 and most humans very dead👎. As the years/decades pass, the apes become even smarter and the few remaining humans, whose society is already far beyond collapsing, start to develop a side-effect, they lose their ability to speak. That trilogy has some major plot-holes and story problems, but is overall extremely good in my opinion. It's a very different, more action-packed (tho never as action packed as any trailer suggested, they are overall pretty calm films) vibe but i strongly recommend it as well if these themes interest you. It's not devoid of depth or social commentary, and the character of Caesar might be one of the most iconic movie heroes of the last 20 years.

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes picks off where the previous trilogy left off. 300/400 years after the pandemic, humanity has now been almost wiped out and apes are the earth's ruling "species". So yeah, almost like the original film series. We follow Noa, a young chimpanzee from a tribe of fishers who live in harmony with eagles. One night, his whole clan gets destroyed/kidnapped by an army of unknown apes. Noa is the only one who made it out and leaves with his father's eagle Sun to find his family. He will soon discover that his clan wasn't the only one targeted, as a powerful ape tyrant who calls himself Proximus Caesar is looking for slaves and followers. During his travels, Noa meets a human woman called Nova who surprisingly, is able to speak. The two of them work together to try and take down Proximus.

I have to say, I'm sold on this new trilogy. The story looks way more solid and original than the previous trilogy, it was very engaging from beginning to end, it had unexpected twists and great moments of drama. The acting is very good, the film is beautifully lit and it has a great sense of flow, i wasn't bored for a single second. But i mean... HOW could you be bored while looking at that?!

The motion capture animation looks crazy good, but I expected nothing less from Weta Digital. I am a fan of this kind of effect, i could watch movies like this all day, this shit hypnotises me it looks sooo good. These apes look real !!! The way the actors and animators mix anthropomorphised behaviours with simian body language is insane!!!! THIS IS MY CRACK COCAINE GIVE ME MOOOORE

While i had the time of my life watching this, and i thought it was one of the best big budget projects of the years, two things bugged me.

First: In the previous trilogy, Caesar had a weirdly humanised face, but it was kinda justified by the lore. It wasn't a 100% normal chimp, something had happened to him in utero. Here it's just weird. Noa looks weirdly too human compared to the rest of the ape cast. It feels like they're doing this to make us relate to the character more but hasn't the previous trilogy proven that this isn't needed?? Spectators got really attached to characters who were not humanised at all (wasn't Maurice everybody's fave??), it's just weird. I love this franchise because I love the apes. I don't want them to look like weird hybrids. Do they think apes NEED to be as humanised as possible to be good heroes? Are they ape racist? What is going on?! I will only take this criticism back if it's revealed in the sequel that Noa is a descendent of Caesar or something. Because they kinda look alike. But also i don't want them to do that because Caesar had his time in the spotlight for 3 movies and not everything needs to be about him. Even if he was really hot for some reason.

My second and BIGGEST criticism is this : The first POTA movie came out FIFTY-SIX YEARS AGO. You know what we still haven't improved AT ALL? When we put human female characters in post-apocalyptic movies, we make their hair greasy and we put some dirt on their face and we call it a day. The woman in this movie has perfectly plucked eyebrows and shaved pits. I'm pretty sure if we ever saw her legs those would be shaved as well. I'M TIRED OF THIS SHIT. "b-but the lore" i hear some say. I don't care! I don't care how advanced her group is, have you seen the world she lives in?? I cannot feel immersed in this universe when i look at her!!

And the worst part is that this character is fucking great ! She's complex, she's interesting, she opens up this franchise to brand new themes and questions and the acting of the actress is great, but WHY on Earth does she look like that?! I mean, i know why. Because if female characters stop being fuckable for like 1 second the economy collapses or something. *sigh*

I really hope i wasn't the only person pissed off by this. I mean a few people liked my comment so i guess they agree. I hope this... gets fixed in the sequel. I hope eventually we stop treating great female characters like pretty faces first and foremost. I'm about to find whoever started telling women to shave and stab him, watch me create my own time travel paradox. Fuuck.

While as you can see, this film kinda pisses me off because of this one element, it also gets the Léna seal of approval ! It's one of the best of 2024! I really hope i made you want to discover the Planet of the Apes if you haven't seen them already. I recommend all of them except the 2001 version, and i would love to write more about them on this blog at some point. Maybe i could talk about feminist themes in the original series. You've probably noticed that this post was more of a general endorsement of the franchise as a whole rather than one of this film specifically. Anyway ! I OBVIOUSLY don't recommend starting with this one. If you're interested in this modern version, start with the one from 2011 ! And then come tell me what you thought ^W^ Here's a link to the trailer of this new one.

Final rating : OWOWHATSTHIS/10

[anothanobody]

Made For The Spotlight

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo/Cha Haein

Summary: Cha Haein, a former athlete turned model has to make a photoshoot with the new star, Sung Jinwoo. Their paths keep crossing at different events, the public love them together, they don't really love the public but they are good at what they do and it pays well.

Up there it's the premise of the story, it's a modern AU with no powers, I think I should clarify that.

Here are the few key points for the beginning:

Haein like in canon was an athlethe but like in canon suffered an injury that made her stop. But she had gotten enough attention where she was able to stay in relevant in the media by modeling in photoshoots, commercials and stuff. (she's not tall for runaway, but good for magazine)

Jinwoo is an athlete, a football player. His team just won the Asian Cup, he was MVP, so right now he's booked and busy, but he's always been in the eye, he was in the Under-20 team.

They meet in a photoshoot for a brand like Calvin Klein, not it, so not entirely dressed, there's underwear, topless shoots, photoshoot needs closeness and tension. They meet for the first time there, both are quite taken with each other.

The shoot lasts all day long, they're playing around, sometimes she has to sit on him, he has to hold her up, it's very intimate. They're not virgins, so they ponder on the idea of hooking up, they've touched too much of each other to not think about it.

I'm not sure who to make their agents... anyway at the end of the day, while they are changing, Jinwoo makes a move. He's about to leave the city for some other job and he tells her when he'd be back.

So, they end up hooking up, no strings attached. It's out of the ordinary for them both, they're each others' first public figures, but that's why they're also on edge.

They don't keep in touch, they didn't get each others numbers, they forgot.

They end up together in another commercial for perfumes, you know like the D&G or Dior, where sometimes people even kiss. yes. there's different scenes that will be picked out so they're reminiscing on their night together. By the end, Jinwoo invites her out for a meal instead. Nothing comes out of it, they hook up tho, they found that they're really compatible in bed.

They meet again at Fashion Week, they talk in the afterparty and finally give it a chance, saying that maybe it was another sign to finally get the number.

The premise says that the public loves them but for some it is separate rather than together, Jinwoo is a hot topic so his fans are becoming quite territorial and parasocial, Haein doesn't like that, her comments are flooding once articles come out.

Others are actively shipping (like us) so they want to see them in more projects together. They flood comments with each others gifs, make edits of the two... what we do lmaoo

The story will show their relationship progress, from hook ups, to meeting in disguise once in a while, to whenever they can, accidentally meeting family and having to be introduced formally as well. There will be some downs at the distance for their jobs, the comments, their appearances with someone else or the media trying to create stories and stuff. There's some bad arcs that will be given due to that and stalkers. There might be another of Jinwoo completely relocating as a contract from a European team came through that put everything on the rocks.

Despite the hook ups I will make them like they are, I love me some Haein blushing and being flustered, while Jinwoo catch her off guard, teases and stuff.

In most of the fic, i will say that their relationship in whichever point it is, it's a secret to the public, but they act it out well on the screen and avoid questions. Title is sarcastic, they actually hate it and are made for it solely on their appearance, they don't really like to be recognized and the rest.

@manawari this is MFTS! Tell me your thoughts, if you have an opinion or a question let me know! The fic is in the works!

[sketchehm]

Had a silly idea

---------

"Dad! DAD!!!"

Sapnap stands up from his seat in a panic, turning around just as Milo and Naomi scramble into the room. Team Mafia said that they wouldn't hurt them, said that they would be safe while Sapnap worked, but what if-

Milo throws himself into Sapnap, knocking him back into the couch, Naomi jumping right beside them. They're both smiling, giggling and moving around like they eaten too much sugar.

"Dad!" Naomi grins, looking at him with those wide green eyes of hers, "we went on a work mission today! With Spreen! But he said you can't tell Papa!"

"Oh?" Sapnap smiles softly, unable to stop the fond look on his eyes despite the way his mind is racing to all the possibilities of what this 'mission' could have been, and why Spreen would tell the kids not to tell Dream, "and what did you do?"

"We-"

Milo starts, but Naomi slaps a hand over his mouth, shushing her twin

"Shhhhhh, he need to promise! You need to promise Dad, you promise you won't tell Papa?"

Sapnap sets his jaw, doing his best to look as serious as he does during his meetings with mafiosos.

"I do."

Both kids cheer and his masks cracks immediately, unable to stop the smile his kids always drag out of him.

"Don't hit your brother tho Naomi, even when it's to keep a secret"

"Sorry!"

Naomi chirps, but Milo is too focused on telling the story to mind the slap

"So Spreen came to us and he told us he had this plan to find the best ice cream in the whole city right? But!" Milo puts up one little finger, "But his English isn't that good, so he says he gets embarrassed to order-"

"I think that's silly!" Naomi cuts in, "His English is really good! Much better then my Spanish."

"Yeah! But we agreed, because we're super nice, so we went out to get ice cream."

"It was like a spy movie Dad! We had to like. We judged the look of the place before we even went in and the seating-"

"I ordered! All three times!" Milo puffs up his chest, "Naomi was too much of a scaredy cat!"

"I got shy! There's nothing wrong with being shy, Dad is shy-"

"You got ice cream three times?"

Sapnap interrupts their banter, raising am eyebrow. So that's why they weren't supposed to tell Dream.

"Yeah! It was so fun, Spreen got us a notebook to keep our scores!"

"But it has to stay in his car so no one finds out. It's a secret. Oh! Dad I ordered on a place where everyone spoke Spanish!" Milo slaps his little hands against Sapnap's chest, "It was like, scary, but Spreen helped me! It was really good to, I liked that place. It got a 21 out of 25."

"It would have been higher, but they only had like. 5 places to sit. So they got a low seating score. Sad!"

Sapnap huffs out a laugh, gently pushing Naomi's face. Oh my God the kids are aging zoomies.

"Get those high beams out of my face, my god you get those from your father," Sapnap smiles, hearing Naomi giggle behind his hand. He let's go of her, kissing then both on their foreheads before pushing them off the couch, "Go go, go play, go make someone's life hell, or else you'll tear the house apart at bed time"

The two of them take off, their little steps sounding around the house as they look for a new victim.

Good thing they had plenty of them now huh?

SO FREAKING CUTE AHHH

The kids go out CONSTANTLY with different Team members hehe :3c

They go to the coolest parks and ice cream shops and restaurants!!!! It's so much fun :D!!

(Their favorite to terrorize is ElRich :3! He plays boring old man games and it's really silly! But they also bet quarters and dollars with him to win some monies cause gambling is fun!!!)

I think the kids here would recognize all three dad's are always at home now!! And if they ever leave it's to join them going to the park!! Along with all of the new grown up friends/uncles/more dads who always join!! Together always yippie :D!!!

[laugtherhyena]

Can we get some silly facts about your dra/sdra2 ocs :3 (beni, akira, mai, yukari, etc etc)

I added the random facts i got about Akira, Beni and Yukari in thes posts but I don't think I ever made one for Mai sooooo let's change that (even tho there's not many in regards to her)

-She's a huge Godzilla/Kaiju fan since she was a kid and Ippei used to take her to watch whatever new movie of it was coming out (he never understood what people found so fun in movies that are just huge monster destroys the city and fights other monsters). Her favorite Kaiju is Titanosaurs and she owns a bunch of VHSs and DVDs of Kaiju movies.

-She hates cooking and lives of take out and simple to put together meals. Her diet overall is really not that healthy, but Mai works out so much she ends up burning all the calories anyway. (She really loves drinking too!)

-Her apartment (Which is located within the Kisaragi foundation in living complex for those who work there) is very messy in the sense that things are stored wherever Mai finds it best to have them and not by conventional means; Why are there dumbells next to the bed? Morning workout, box of old classic music vinyls on top of the fridge? Easy to ignore his absence, Living room couch on the apartment balcony occupying the entire space there? Mai just likes the view, she's never been a huge fan of Tv anyway and she's put a big gym mat where the couch would be anyway. (Minako for sure brings this up as the reason she's never found a husband)

-Mai's the kind of person that will sometimes look at others around her age and think "What do you mean i could be a mother and ave children by now?? Huh? What?" (I don't think she necessarily wants to have children? At least not on her own account. If she got together with someone who really wanted them she would compromise)

-She often asks Ryutaro to help her put on the prosthetic for work. She like's the little guy a lot! She acts sorta like an aunt to him and became close to Midori by association.

-The reason Mai doesn't like using a prosthetic arm is because no matter how high quality it is it will never feel like how her actual arm used to and this difference annoys her more than having no second arm at all.

-When wearing it on missions tho, if things get rough, she has a habit of using the prosthetic as a shield/putting it in harm's way since it's just metal after all. The property damage annoys Kinjo at times, but it doesn't happen often enough for him to scold her for it.

-She is often regarded as immature for her age by a few peers. While that is true to an extent, Mai is incredibly proficient when it comes to work. More specifically;

-Bringing @despair-to-future-arcs Kisaragi foundation characters into the mix, Fukumi is one of her closest friends. They hang out outside of work and share secrets quite often.

-She initially got close to Naoto both out of them being assigned to train new members of Kinjo's division and their positions as 2nd and 3rd in command respectively, both of them have lost their families so there's a bond/mutual understanding on that fact as well.

-She may have a crush on him, but there's nothing much happening at the moment because Naoto is in an incredible bad mental health state and Mai doesn't have the ability to really help him given how she deals with a lot of issues through ignorance or distractions, which is really not what he needs. (She does genuinely care for him tho, and her inability to help him in a significant manner upsets her greatly.)

[onlyseokmins]

neighbor!joshua who's been your lifelong friend, next door living companion, and quite literally embodies the "nice guy next door".

for as long as you can remember he's been by your side. you've swung on the swings side by side, walked together to the school bus stop, sat together in every class, moved in and out of the city to chase your respective dreams, and now have settled down in a cute neighborhood. you've spent every moment together and unlike some might think - it never gets old.

he's like your rock and safe place. you only see each other when you're both home - but considering you work remotely and he spends a suspicious amount of time talking on the phone in his kitchen-turned-office... well, it's no different than your college flatmate days.

Though this time there's a whole building to separate you from each other and not just a couple of rooms and walls.

you'd think that's a better arrangement but it's not. especially when he knocks on your door before dusk for your weekly walk down to the grocery store. like always, he sweetly asks how your day was - eyes never daring to stray from your own even with you wearing nothing but a comfy t-shirt that just barely covers your bare legs.

even tho you really want to slam the door petulantly in his face, you leave it ajar - scowling and stomping off to find proper clothes. joshua closes it genteelly behind him and hums his infamous comfort song while he waits, not venturing further from the entrance despite the free show he'll likely get of you changing carelessly. or maybe on purpose. even as roommates, he's never walked in on you.

when you emerge back out from your room, your attire really isn't all that different - although you actually have shorts on this time even if they barely cover your ass. like clockwork, joshua shrugs off his jean jacket and lays it to sit in the crease of your elbow to carry. he knows you'll eventually get chilly from the evening breeze which is actually an excuse to simply cuddle his jacket in your arms and smell his cologne.

joshua's always nice to you, ever the gentleman. sometimes you wished he'd be a little mean. slap you around a bit. like you know he did to the people he'd bring back to your shared home and into his bed throughout the university years. you're a bit on the wild side too (ahem, broken bed frame) so you think he either doesn't want to disturb the friendship balance you're perfectly fine disrupting OR even more terribly, he doesn't find you attractive.

it's sad. often you wonder if he's ever noticed the way you squeeze your thighs together when he scolds you for staying out too late drinking at bars and to hurry home with him. stripping your outerwear off and manhandling you under your sheets with a hangover remedy on the nightstand when you wake up and a check-in scold early next morning before work starts.

but joshua causally holds your hand as usual on the way back from the store, swinging it in opposite time with the full bags of snacks and drinks held in the other. your sour attitude doesn't affect his cheerful mood because he thinks the stars shine brighter, the sleeping flower petals look a bit more vibrant, and the air a generally feels little sweeter all because he's by your side where he has always belonged.

his little grin grows wider on his face as he watches you - observing how over the years your pouty, bratty behavior grows - enjoying the way he can work you up until he breaks you.

oh, and he will. when he's had enough of you slamming doors and drawers around the kitchen one weekend afternoon after feeling snubbed once more at your attempt to seduce your dumb best friend.

you find yourself whirled away from where you were glaring daggers into the poor cupboard, pinned against the counter top, and caged between joshua's arms. face almost pressing against his broad chest that heaves with restrained annoyance. he brushes your earlobe with his large thumb, clicking his tongue as his thigh slots between yours.

"you have to be careful not to hurt yourself, sweetheart. it'd break my heart if anything bad happened to you... anything made you cry." now he strokes your cheek, looking incredibly worried before it abruptly changes to a harsh scowl. "except you want me to make you cry. tired of me playing nice, begging me to be mean to my sweet friend."

and you just gaze at him with those pretty eyes and his lips curl. a light slap to your cheek, it lacks any malice behind it and doesn't hurt. but it makes your lips part and he hooks his thumb between them, eyes narrowing. encouraging you to speak, despite it coming out mispronounced due to the finger in your mouth.

"nasty little thing, aren't you?"

it certainly kills him when you give him your consent - he knew all along what you wanted. bending you over and stretching you out with his long fingers buried deep inside your cunt after a couple of slaps to your ass and clit. then prepping you with his tongue after helping you up on the counter with such shaky legs that he has to hold away from wrapping around his head that's in between them to now devour your pussy.

edging you both times so when he finally thinks you just might deserve his cock, you're instantly coming undone the minute its large tip brushes against your wet folds.

and your sweet joshua has to turn mean, mean, mean - clicking his tongue and shaking his head in faux disappointment. degrading you for being such a whore for him - and while yes, you're a good whore for him - he needs you to behave and listen to first like the lovely darling he knows you are. and he's going to start all over until you can obey his orders of when you can cum.

he's kissing your tears away, reminding you that this is what you wanted as if your tight walls aren't squeezing around him even tighter every time he has to restart. you love it. and joshua's intent to have you on every surface of his house. and yours next.

"knew you'd love being treated like this but i just... you mean so much to me, how could i dare? look at you - so drunk off me right now from a little bit of cruelty. but even my niceness was too much for you, so don't pout all pretty at me now, love or i'll be tempted to stick my cock in between those lips of yours and not in that sweet pussy i've been dreaming of for years."

[thanatologie]

actually i wanna expand on this a little (i say, with no visible lead up):

emmrich, to a rook not from the mourn watch, literally says that all necromancers are mortalitasi, but not all mortalitasi are part of the mourn watch, when they ask him about it and the difference between them. he's absolutely happy to clarify because it's his mission to demystify necromancy and make it less scary to the people he's going to be working with, and it's his special interest. he'll info dump all day long about it.

what you gotta understand here is that the necropolis is this huge, functioning city of the dead, yes, that employs a lot of people. not just necromancers, they've got guards and groundskeepers and shop keepers and a slew of other folks that do different jobs, a lot of which don't require magic and that magic isn't in the skillset of the people working them. i imagine the ratio of mages to non-mages is very small, actually; it's just that the majority of the people we meet from the mourn watch and in the necropolis directly are mages.

basically: not every mourn watch member is a mage, there's other roles to fill and those undoubtedly outnumber the necromancers.

running that place has got to be expensive. like lucanis has a banter with emmrich where they talk about how it's probably the biggest money draw and driving force behind the nevarran economy, because i imagine you have to be able to afford to be buried there, you have to, like any burial ground, purchase your plot. who knows how big the necropolis actually is - it's got a bit of a tardis feel to it, maybe it's bigger on the inside and it's pulling a thing like hank pym's infinite mansion and just expands as needed - but i imagine real estate there comes at a premium. emmrich wasn't able to get his own parents buried there until he'd made full watcher, after all, and i imagine he had the disposable income to have them exhumed, moved, and re-interred in the gardens. with all the appropriate ritual around it.

so, the crux of it, tho, is that the mourn watch itself...i don't think you can say it's a political entity, in and of itself. there's one thing to be up to your ass in the machinations of the nobility, and there's another to be aware of who not to piss off, and what to be aware of to keep your organization functioning. knowing the court mortalitasi and their corpse whisperer are puppeting king markus around and not saying anything because it'll look bad on everyone involved in necromancy - an already villified art outside of their borders - even if they have nothing to do with it.

and the money thing: they need that noble gold to keep themselves going. it's just a fact of life, guys, it's shitty, but they have to take in money and donations from the nobility to pay people, for upkeep on the necropolis itself, to buy supplies they need, the list goes on, organizations like theirs don't run on a budget of five bucks and good will. rook was a casualty (if a member of the mourn watch) of a tough decision, because they pissed off nobles that donate much needed money. but i don't think it was so much as kicking them out forever and ever, actually, but more to get them out of sight, out of mind for a time until the heat was off of them and the next thing to piss off the gentry made them forget about it.

rook was always going to be able to come back home at some point, is what i'm saying, they're the crypt baby. they just had to be removed from sight for a little while so the heat could die down.

i have, like, a whole other thing about the circles in nevarra - how sure i'm willing to bet money the smaller circles in bumfuck nowhere were as shitty as elsewhere to a degree (though to me - the way i've read it - it seems the mages elsewhere freaked out during the rebellions because they were afraid the people of the villages and such were going to come for them, not that they were necessarily directly involved but that's a whole ass thing if you side with the templars over the mages in dai, which is also an entire other thing). and how if the mourn watch were a purely political entity someone like emmrich - an orphan, from a poor background, taken in as a ward of the mourn watch itself - would probably never have ended up where he is, with actual status and wealth, because he is of a common origin and didn't have a dime to his name starting out.

point is: tacitly keeping your mouth shut about the king being undead to keep hundreds of people employed and not embarrass your whole ass country on a world stage isn't great (i'm american, ask me how that feels right now lmao), but it's a necessary evil when you're essentially a publicly funded university and funeral home if you want to stay a publicly funded university and funeral home.

[fairyhaos]

seventeen and firefighters

requested by anon: "Hiii, can you do svt as firefighters, I was watching chicago fire and wondering what would svt be like in the au"

notes: okay i know absolutely nothing about firefighters so i found a bunch of firefighter duties online and just gave them to whichever member i thought they fit best. probably a mix of american + british firefighter policies.

masterlist

seungcheol:

has been the captain during at least 2 different major fire events in the city during his time as a firefighter. definitely that heroic guy in movies who runs back into a burning building bc there's still this one child who didn't make it out. visits the child in hospital, accidentally becomes a part-time parent to several other children in the ward. the one who teaches the new recruits how to slide down the fireman's pole bc the other guys would definitely teach it wrong to see them get blisters on their fingers just for funsies

jeonghan:

is somehow always on duty when the old ladies call for fire safety checks in their houses. spends half the time gossiping with them about their daily lives + what they were like n who had the most drama back in the day. probably has the email addresses of like 6 different lovely old ladies bc they loved talking to him so much, gets treated like he's their angelic little son by all of them. weak asf, no one knows how he actually managed to become a firefighter

joshua:

accompanied seungcheol on both of those major fire accidents, and despite not being the captain he was the man interviewed by the news reporters cz he was the only one who was (somehow) relatively clean of soot. claims it's bc he's so pure and nice so the dirt can't touch him, was almost punched by seungcheol on live tv. goes round to schools and gives talks on fire safety and stuff. laughs at jeonghan when the guy comes back from a house visit with yet another email address to add to his book

junhui:

probably mostly just does responses to medical calls and non-fire emergencies, bc i don't think i'd trust this guy to put out a fire without accidentally making it worse. one time, he had to go to some corporate building bc someone was stuck in the elevator, and as soon as he's saved the woman she'd handed him a business card and asked if he was interested in working as a model for their company

hoshi:

gets the most excited when they have a fire emergency call. is super pumped bc this is why he became a firefighter in the first place, bc he wants to fight fires n not just write papers on how to fight fires. is the only one that's not extremely exhausted at the end of it, ends up being the one to reassure the civilians that everything is okay now bc the other members are just way too tired to deal with the public

wonwoo:

tbh he's not really sure how he ended up in the firefighting business. does police assist duties more often, setting up traffic cones and handing out shock blankets and sometimes towing vehicles. drags hoshi away from the civilians to prevent him from beaming ridiculously wide whilst he tells them that people were seriously injured in the fire they just helped out at

woozi:

the one called to do rescue service jobs the most often. has saved cats from trees, dogs from trees, squirrels from houses, bats from barns, bees from backyards, practically everything you can think of. is one of the most capable during fire response tho bc he can actually hold up the rlly heavy water hose while the others are doing other firefighter stuff

minghao:

does most of the paperwork after incidents have occurred bc none of the other members can be bothered to do them. gives the worst and best pep talks at the same time. tells them that this is their duty n they've sworn to protect the people and they are going to do well, but in the same breath tells them there's always a likelihood that they're gonna die early bc of their job. they still don't know why he's the one always assigned to give pep talks

mingyu:

the Big Guy. gets trusted w most of the heavy lifting bc he's so tall and everything, and does the most active fire fighting bc he's actually capable of holding up the fire hose for extended periods of time. has also 100% hit his head on the doorway of the fire truck before in his haste to get into the vehicle after they've gotten a call, was laughed at for the entire journey to the site

dokyeom:

gets scared during the drive to a fire that they've been called to put out bc "what if we end up dying there????" even though he went through all the training and he's actually going to be fine. doesn't like using the fireman's pole, generally tries to stay on the ground floor so he'll never have to slide down it if they're called to an emergency. has once paused in putting out a fire to rescue a cat from a tree across the street

seungkwan:

idk probably yells for civilians to move out of the way while he n the rest of the firefighters are getting from the truck to the building that's on fire. was once one of the fighters to help with this one incident with chlorine gas malfunction in a swimming pool centre, tells the story to every person he ever meets. gets rlly honoured if he's walking down the streets n someone recognises him from rescue that he's done before

vernon:

somehow always loses rock paper scissors and has to be the one to lead the equipment check in the trucks while they're not on duty. has probably run into burning buildings before bc he thought the others were telling him to when in fact they were telling seungcheol not to run into the burning building. still thinks it's rlly fascinating and rlly terrifying when he sees a roof collapse in on itself while all up in flames

chan:

watches firefighter movies n shows just to point out all the inaccuracies, but now unintentionally has gotten himself hooked on just about all of them. if someone is injured during a fire site that he's worked on, he Will take time out of his day to visit them in the hospital they've been sent to, bc he wants them to know that firefighters really do care about the lives that are endangered that they've helped save

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