#i am in pain from some of these questions

[deathsmallcaps]

I’m autistic and despite growing up with a Black Stepdad and Black friends, and thinking the Civil Rights movement and the Civil War were cool, and even going to schools with pretty inclusive curriculums, I sometimes repeated mean things I heard (often from my Dad) or did not give thought to how certain lines of questioning/conversation may feel different towards different people. I was, and still occasionally am, racist. Among other things.

(I initially grew up in an almost exclusively Black and white town that was roughly half & half, and later moved to an area that was more half & half Indian and white. I have only ever lived in the east half of the USA)

Sure I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Sure I did believe that everyone should be treated well. Sure I loved the Black people around me. I’ve never said the n-word - I didn’t even know it existed until I read Roots by Alex Haley. But I didn’t consider nuance, I didn’t consider feelings in my thirst for knowledge, and frankly, I have a tendency to be obnoxious. ALL normal things for an autistic person. But ALL things that are quite hurtful. After all, don’t we get hurt when someone stereotypes us?

Looking back, I feel like my Stepdad should have been more active in my social education. He wouldn’t have been educating some random white person who walked up and hurt him, he’d have been teaching his daughter (he’s always treated me how his family treats daughters, for better and for worse).

But my mom, the white woman, stepped up as a good ally. SHE gave me Roots. SHE talked me through dealing with ‘white guilt’ and how that’s nobody’s problem but mine. SHE encouraged me to educate myself, and to consider what I say before I say it. SHE helped me realize my privilege. With help from a psychologist, we both learned how to handle my social issues. And now I’d say I’m a more conscious person. It doesn’t hurt that one of my English classes focused on the Harlem Renaissance and another taught Othello and Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison. Since then, I’ve sought out media and information by and about creators of Color and my relationship with my Black family members and friends has definitely improved.

I’m lucky guy. My autism is not the most debilitating in the world, and I do think it gives me valuable insight into said world. Acknowledging it helped me gain insight into how I work.

But I’m still an upper-middle class Anglo-American culturally-Christian white adult whose worst personal interaction with the cops is getting a speeding ticket. The only things I could possibly be oppressed about here is my sex/gender and if someone clocks my neurodivergencies. Maybe my allyship if its a REALLY crazy situation. It’s my responsibility to be aware of my privilege, love my fellow humans, and educate myself on how to respect others. Loving does NOT equal respecting. They’re different things. Just like how your family may genuinely love you but do not respect or understand you.

All those things on the news, about children getting shot because they’re wearing their hoodies up, or having a panic attack, or whatever bullshit excuse a white person with a gun can dream up. Those are extreme and something to be worried about. That kind of behavior should be condemned. But that doesn’t cover every single angle of oppression. And oppression isn’t just perpetuated by the nebulous concept of The System! It’s also perpetuated by Our Common Man. AKA, you and me sometimes.

Sometimes, you’re going to reach out in ways that have worked before and it’s not going to be appropriate. That hurts! But if you do your best to incorporate that info into what you’ve learned, then that’s awesome! I’m proud of you! You’re going to have to keep doing it though!!! And that’s okay!!! That just means you’re getting to live life!!!

Apologize and/or change the subject and educate yourself soon after. Those are some of the best skills you can have. You can’t go back, you can only improve the future.

Another really good bunch is being honest and introspecting on why certain things make you uncomfortable. Once you know, own it and desensitize! Be a good friend!

This is getting very long. If you want some concrete examples,

Some of these things happened because I am autistic. Some may have happened because I was a white kid. But for whatever reason it occurred, as an autistic older teen and now adult, I needed to learn from these experiences so I can help make the future better :). You are capable of learning these things too.

Problem: I once asked a Black friend how it was to be Black. I was trying to educate myself! It wasn’t appropriate though. I kept asking repeatedly, and we were like 13. She was a child and shouldn’t have to have the answer.

Solution: My mom redirected me to Black literature so I could learn from adults willing to talk about it. She didn’t owe me information, nobody does, but especially not kids.

Problem: I was 16 (in 2017). I was talking to a Filipino American* girl who was just coming out of homeschool. I wanted to be nice and relate to her, and I loved Disney. Turns out so did she! I asked if Mulan was her favorite Disney Princess. My thinking was ‘I like Tiana best but I really liked seeing Anna because we have the same hair color -> I know representation is important because (at the very least) it’s nice to see people who look like you being heroes -> Mulan is cool and the Asian princess ™. I was trying to relate and be kind. But that wasn’t appropriate. I made a general assumption, and made her uncomfortable. Mulan was a favorite of hers, it turned out, but that does NOT matter. A person’s relationships with their demographic’s stereotypes are extremely private unless shared. And it’s THEIR right to close it up again.

*despite Filipino and Filipina being gendered, when saying demographic information, such as ‘Filipino American’ about a woman, the trend is towards -o. I couldn’t find a direct answer, but multiple sources said Filipino-American about ladies.

Solution: Remember everyone is an individual and may not want to talk about all aspects of their life. Let them offer information about aspects that you aren’t knowledgeable about, like being of Filipino descent, or being homeschooled, or how it is being a Disney fan of Color. If they bring it up, offer responses like ‘I didn’t know that. Cool!’ Or make encouraging noises like ‘huh!’ Or ‘neat!’ So they know it’s safe to keep talking to you about a subject that is important but sensitive to them. And they might not ever bring these things up! And that’s okay. It’s their business. Retrain your nosiness elsewhere, it’s hard but possible :)

I must reiterate: A person’s relationships with their demographic’s stereotypes are extremely private unless shared - and it’s THEIR right to close the subject. And for the record, just because there is a Southeast Asian Disney Princess now (Raya), it would NOT have been appropriate to ask if her favorite was Raya. That’s still stereotyping, it’s just updated for the 2020s.

Problem: I love name meanings. I couldn’t find my one Indian-American classmate’s name meaning online, so I went up to him and after starting a pointed conversation, I told him my name’s meaning in the hope he’d tell me his. He did, but he was uncomfortable. Because I didn’t really talk to that guy before, and in a roundabout way socially coerced him into giving up information to a relative stranger. Information he probably didn’t care that much about, but it was obvious I only wanted one thing from him. It was rude and showed that I hadn’t really cared about him before I wanted something from him. And people generally don’t like being treated like living wikipedias of their cultures!

Solution: sometimes you’re going to have to accept you aren’t owed information. This also applies to my first example. If you can’t find information online, even if you find the perfect subreddit that welcomes questions like these*, they might not give you an answer. And that’s okay. It might drive you a little mad about missing that bit of information, but it will not end your world. Trust me. I’m putting a lot of personal mess-ups on here, I’m not going to start lying to you now.

*people don’t like being treated like walking Wikipedias for their cultures in general, but sometimes the armor of online anonymity makes people more comfortable sharing. Not always though. Maybe check other questions from other people in that subreddit or tumblr or whatever to find an appropriate format, or get a general sense of what kind of questions are answered happily. You may just have to let it go.

Problem: when I was 17 my mom introduced me to two women, a Black woman and a white woman. She told me offhandedly that one played in an American football adult league for fun. Being a feminist, I was really excited by that, because American football is a very male sport. I didn’t end up talking to either of them about it, but I sure thought a lot about that during that encounter. Afterwards, I said something to my mom that made it clear I thought the Black woman was the football player. She corrected me and said “You thought it was [her] because she’s Black,”. She was correct, I felt terrible for stereoptyping, and I cried (I cry easily). I wanted to go apologize or something. My mom pointed out that the apology would be for me, not for her. Which is an issue (I still struggle with this in many different contexts)

Solution: if you want to apologize, ask yourself ‘Am I doing this because I want the person I hurt to know how apologetic I am? Am I doing this because I want to hear ‘it’s okay’?’. If either of those has a yes as the answer, then reconsider making the apology. If the person really does appreciate apologies, then offer one. But keep it simple. Don’t mention your feelings or why you messed up. That doesn’t matter, and can make them feel guilty for their own valid feelings. And regardless, focus more on not repeating the behavior. That’s the best apology, even if you never see the person you hurt again. You hurt someone, so *I must stress this* it is NOT about you.

Problem: I’m going to college in a very white town (it fits my budget). My first week there, a white friend E was talking about her friend P, who I was to meet later that day. She mentioned they are a minority (E is from that white college town and is still learning too. She’s improved quite a bit. She doesn’t lead with that kind of information anymore) who was also from the area. I was confused. I had pretty much only seen white or white-passing people the last few days. I asked, and she told me they were Indian* and from a local people (among others. Like many Indigenous people, P isn’t from just one Indigenous or only-Indigenous culture). I was shocked. I was under the impression that all the Indigenous people from [college] area were killed or forcibly removed or assimilated.

*P prefers the term Indian when talking about themself or their family, due to their multiculturalism and preference to older terms, but the most polite thing is to refer to an Indigenous person by their People. So if you’re talking about M, your Salish friend, and for some reason his ethnicity comes up, call him Salish - not Indian, not Native American, not Indigenous. Unless he prefers those terms. Though individuals generally prefer the more culture-specific name. If you’re talking about a group of different people or peoples who are original inhabitants of the Americas or Australia or the Pacific Islands (and sometimes Africa), then use Indigenous. That being said, always defer to personal preference.

Solution: I let P bring up info about their peoples when they wanted. I looked up some things later. I also did some research and found that the Indigenous people of my [home] area weren’t all gone either. I had been taught in my state history class who they were exactly, and then they were never never brought up again. Then I learned about things like the Trail of Tears and residential schools, and assumed their culture was effectively dead. I was wrong, thankfully!

Problem: This is not exactly racist but I feel that it’s relevant. I’m talking to this guy right now. A couple weeks ago, we went out and I brought up a question that I thought was pretty normal for dates/conversations where you get to know one another. “What do your parents do?” After all, parents’ occupations affect you! He told me that his mom is working as a fruit seller after being laid off and his dad was laid off (his parents are divorced like mine) and is currently unemployed. FAUX PAS! Yikes. Both of my dads have histories of unemployment (my Dad likes to quit, my Stepdad has gotten laid off multiple times*) but all are employed right now. And I know how awkward (at the very least!) it is to be in that situation, especially money-wise.

Solution: I looked up bad questions to ask on dates later and yup! That was on there. Don’t talk money until you you’re serious. Apparently doing it so early on is a very white/privileged thing. One website I read even said that explicitly.

*Once you get laid off once, you’re often a new hire at a company. And being a new hire, you’re more likely to be laid off, because companies value seniority. Thus, a self-perpetuating situation unfortunately. I wouldn’t be surprised if other factors came into play - reminder: my stepdad is Black, and employers may use that information when choosing which new hire to let go. But we know for sure that seniority is definitely part of the issue.

General Reminder 1: Don’t ask to touch or talk about Black people’s hair. No comments about getting it wet, how it’s different from yours, how working with it must be different, interesting little factoids you may have learned about their hair, weaves, wigs, and so on. If you genuinely have curly hair at 2c-ish or higher (see picture), then it’s a different story. You may have something in common that’s fun to talk about! Comments on how nice it looks are sometimes okay, but consider: are you only saying these complements when it’s straightened or braided? Or only when it’s natural? If you really are only complementing them when it’s on one side of the spectrum, then that’s an issue. Respect Black hair as an art form or even just a part of existence, in its entirety.

Also don’t say it’s kinky or wild hair. Black people can sometimes use those terms for themselves but it isn’t for us. There’s literally a ton of historical laws and economies that have oppressed Black people’s hair and those are some of the things that we should just listen to them about.

This can applied to other cultures’/races’ clearly visible differences from your own features, too.

General reminder 2: look at the kind of things you like to watch, or read, or even react with, like memes. Are they making fun of the minority people in those books? Would that meme be as funny to you if the person in the picture had facial features more like yours? Are the people who look like the person in that meme using that meme? Are People of Color getting to talk and have non-stereotypical storylines in your TV show? Are they even there?

Lastly: You’ve read all this advice from a white person. Go seek out advice, stories and more from other sources!!! It might hurt in the moment but that’s just called growing pains. You will still make mistakes but you have to look to the future! Learning from the sources themselves will be a lot more useful towards creating a pattern of information and behavior your autistic brains can utilize :). Let’s all go be better allies!

The books and authors I mentioned are great places to start and another really good one that I cannot recommend enough is the Levar Burton Reads podcast. But don’t just read fiction. Crack open some history books or podcasts or tv shows. Give yourself some context. Personally I adore Wikipedia when I want to find out more but I don’t have a book. Okay I’ll stop.

idgaf how autistic you are stop being racist😭😭

[linoxpudding]

Spaces Between Us - Yang Jeongin

summary: a year later, after the breakup- you run into your ex again, and old feelings start to resurface

pairing: yang jeongin x reader (exes)

genre: angst, fluff, drama

fic type: written + text

P.S this is PART 3 of "prioritizing his girl bsf" au, so please read jeongin's portion in-

PART 1 and PART 2 for context!

a/n: so innie's storyline felt a bit incomplete, but @mrsminseochoi planted such a brilliant idea in my mind that gave it the closure it needed, as soon I read her comment, I just had to write it! @mrsminseochoi you're a genius! ♡

Masterlist

~°~

A few months after the breakup, you get an unexpected message request. It’s from Gina.

For a moment, you just stare at your screen, debating whether to open it. Your heart pounds in your chest—what could she possibly have to say now?

Curiosity wins. With a deep breath, you tap the notification.

Your grip on your phone tightens. Your stomach twists. You knew Jeongin didn’t mean to hurt you, but reading Gina’s confession makes your chest ache all over again.

You imagine Jeongin, the man who once held your heart so gently, now crumbling behind closed doors. The thought alone sends a sharp pang through you.

But it doesn’t fix what happened. It doesn’t erase the heartbreak. But it does give you some sense of closure. You were right all along.

You don’t reply and just block Gina. There’s nothing left to say.

A year later....

Life moves on. You moved on. You focused on yourself, your career, your happiness. You keep telling yourself you're over Jeongin. That you've healed.

But fate has other plans.

It happened on a rainy evening. You enter a quiet café, shaking the cold off your coat as you wait for your drink. And then—

"Y/N?"

The voice freezes you in place. It’s soft, disbelieving, and achingly familiar.

You turn, and your eyes land on him.

Jeongin stands a few feet away, his dark eyes wide with something you can’t quite name. He looks different—his hair is slightly longer, his face sharper, but his expression… it’s the same.

It’s the way he used to look at you. Like you were his entire world.

"I… I didn’t think I’d ever see you again," he softly says approaching you.

"Yeah… It’s been a while," you reply nervously.

He steps closer, hesitant. "Can we talk?"

You don't know why you nod. Maybe it’s curiosity. Maybe it’s something deeper. But soon, you’re sitting across from each other, the air between you both thick with unspoken words.

"You look good. I mean… you always did. But you look happier. Are you?" He asks with a hint of curiosity.

You pause. You like to think you're happy. But seeing him again, the memories flooding back, makes you realize you never fully stopped missing him.

"I am. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard," you said.

Jeongin’s face twists in pain. "I know. And I hate myself for what I put you through. You were right about Gina."

Your breath catches. "She reached out to me."

His eyes widen. "She did?"

You nod. "Told me how she planned it all. How she wanted me out of the picture. That you never meant to hurt me."

Jeongin exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Y/N… I never stopped loving you. Even when I tried, I couldn’t. I lost you because I was stupid, and it’s the worst mistake I’ll ever make."

Tears prick your eyes. You want to be angry. You were angry for so long. But looking at him now, hearing the raw emotion in his voice, something in your heart shifts.

"You really hurt me, Jeongin."

Jeongin sighed, "I know. And if I could take it all back, I would."

Silence lingers between you both, filled with the sound of rain tapping against the windows.

Jeongin hesitates for a moment before asking, voice barely above a whisper, "are you...are you seeing someone else?"

You blink at the unexpected question. His fingers clench slightly against the table, his knuckles turning white. He looks like he’s bracing himself for an answer he doesn’t want to hear.

You exhale, playing with the rim of your coffee cup before replying, "Just a few dates here and there. Nothing serious."

Jeongin visibly stiffens. His jaw tightens, and he looks away for a second, exhaling through his nose, "Oh."

A small, bitter smile plays on your lips. "Jeongin, you don’t have the right to be jealous."

"I know," he sighs, rubbing his face. "I just hate the thought of someone else making you smile the way I used to."

You swallow hard. Every logical part of you tells you to walk away, to protect your heart. But your heart has never listened to logic when it comes to Jeongin.

Slowly, you reach across the table, your fingers brushing his. His breath stutters.

"I don’t know if we can ever be what we were," you confess.

"Then let’s be something new. Something better," he replies quickly, his hands tightening around you.

He looks at you like he’s afraid to move, like he’s afraid to hope.

As you’re sitting across from him, the space between you suddenly feels too large. Every part of you aches to close that gap, to feel his presence closer. Without thinking, you stand up, your movements almost trembling with anticipation. He watches, frozen, as you slide into the seat next to him. The air between you shifts, the tension thickening, and without a word, you lean in, unable to hold back any longer.

Jeongin’s eyes flutter shut as your lips meet, the kiss slow and deep, filled with everything you two never got to say. Regret, longing, love—it’s all there, crashing over you both like a wave.

When you pull away, Jeongin rests his forehead against yours, breathing shakily.

"I love you. I never stopped loving you," he says, his voice cracked slightly.

Your lips curve into a small, bittersweet smile.

"Then let’s see where this takes us," you reply.

Maybe love deserves a second chance.

[exormilion]

warmth

sevika/reader

word count: 1,036

summary: you have your period and sevika comforts you a bit. not explicit, contains non sexual nudity.

note: hi :) i tried to hint at endometriosis with this (i have it and am about to have the inevitable soul sucking bleeding) but its not that present! feel free to read if you dont have it! <3

link to ao3

─୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ─

You took comfort on Sevika's arm - strong, warm, the only arm she dared to touch you with - draped over your belly, now fully aware of the tingle that soon would progressively turn into a gut wrenching cramp.

Sighing, there was nothing you could do but stare at the ceiling, hoping that, with some miracle, it would all go away.

It didn't.

Sevika was gone a few hours later, leaving with a peck on the forehead and a wish for a good day. You refused to tell her you were in pain - she was dealing with too much alredy, so the mask slipped on and you gave her a curt hug, waving at her at the door while she walked away, mixing with the sea of people and creatures from Zaun. Maybe, after you were both home, tired and back in bed with nothing on but skin to skin, you'd ask her to warm your lower belly with her big palm or massage your aching thighs but thats a thing to consider later. Now, you needed to force yourself out of bed and get ready for work.

Work was work, as always. People in Zaun are always drunk, from morning to night and morning again, nothing out of the extraordinary.

Except for the cramps and the headache and your burning breasts. Yeah, it wasn't necessarily out of the ordinary, you felt a lot more pain and more often than most people but today was hard, so you were miserable and insufferable the whole day (but you did apologize to your coworker for snapping at her. She said "it was fine" and "we all had bad days" and you cried and got snot all over her shirt while she gave you a friendly hug and a pat on the back. You would probably stay up at night thinking about that and maybe consider quitting).

You got home late, really late. You were almost crawling by the time you reached the front door from the little place you shared with Sevika, and having to stop again and again to make sure you wouldn't puke your guts out in a alley, it took much longer than it should. As silently as you can - which probably didn't mean much now -, you get inside, lock the house and kick your shoes out, hands desperately trying to unbutton your pants and relieve the pressure on your swollen, terribly sensitive belly, leaning back on the wall by the door and shimmying out of the piece, sighing in relief as you stood only in your panties and the stained uniform shirt.

The sound of a lighter makes you jump out of your skin and you look up to find Sevika sitting on the couch, legs spread and head tilted in your direction as she lit her cigar, eyes questioning. Alredy out of her outside clothes and simply in a white thank top and black boxers, she looked as delicious as ever.

"Whats wrong?", she asks after blowing smoke, her hand patting her own thigh, "C'mere"

Trying to stay composed didn't work. You walked a little arched foward with your hands holding your belly and Sevika held the cigar between her lips to help you sit down on her leg, holding your hip in support and pushing your back against her chest after you were sat.

You stayed quiet for a bit, closing your eyes and enjoying her warmth. The smell of her cigar was comforting and her warm skin was soothing against your lower back, even with the clothes in between.

"Bleedin'", its all that comes out of your lips, a low murmur that echoed inside the silent living room. Sevika hummed, a small offer of compassion, another puff of smoke flying around.

"Worse than normal?", her thick voice asked. Despite her stoic voice and rough manners, Sevika cared deeply about you and always did what she could to make you feel a little bit better when in crisis like this.

"Yeah, horrible", sitting a bit straighter on her leg, you lift your shirt with a small grunt and throw it somewhere on the floor. Reaching behind your back to unclip the bra was a nightmare and Sevika didn't take long to unhook the think for you, briefly following the line of your spine with her index before taking the cigar from her lips and putting it out on the ashtray on top of the couch armrest. She pulled you back against her chest, her full attention now on your swollen, almost naked form, her heart squeezing with the thought of your pain.

"What can i do?", rasped out, caressing your belly softly. You were warm, inflamated, but the heat of her skin felt incredibly overpowering.

Taking her hand, you gently put her palm on your breast. Your tits always got painful and swollen, somehow heavy with the ache. It bothered you all day and the roughness of her hand always felt amazing on it - not a sexual caress, the way she just supported one of them and gently ran her thumb on the nipple. No, it was soothing, warming, and you waited the whole day just to have her like this. For her to have you.

"Warm", you eyes fall closed again, resting the back of your head on her shoulder and tilting to the side to smell her neck.

"Could've told me earlier", it came as a mutter, and you both knew it wasn't necessarily truth. The both of you needed to work, Sevika couldn't ditch Silco to take care of you... But the idea still warmed your insides.

"S'okay, just need to rest a bit", you feel her head turn and her nose nudged your, hinting at you to tilt your head up. You do, and her lips find yours in a tender wet kiss, your hand finding her cheek to bring her face closer.

"Y'sure?", she hums against your lips, breaths mixing, the scent of nicotine and whiskey that was so Sevika-like was your favorite.

"Mhm. Just staying here with you is enough."

[yaniluvs]

“nerds don't date , right?” iii ⎯ how to ruin a nerd's life 101

[ 정인 ] ✷ ‎. . the event is pretty close, and your wardrobe is underwhelming. thank the lord, some chic nerd is at your rescue.

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑛erdy!jeongin ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , humour , crack , forced proximity , classmates to lovers , uni au , fake dating , skz ensemble . 58OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY ⟢ cw. nicknames ?? as of now . ┆ 📹 ⋮ a y.ji mini series .ᐟ ֹ ₊

yani's note! 𑁍ܓ the amount of love this series is getting omg >< thank you !! also, i'm literally less than 5 followers away from 1k !! <3 late update, mocks are getting closer.... anyway, happy reading!

read the last chapter here.

"a terrible wardrobe crisis. that's what this is." ⎯ lee felix.

you and yeji's shared dorm was in shambles.

it looked like an overexcited tornado had ripped through the room, leaving behind nothing but chaos, laughter, and felix dramatically flailing over your (apparently) inadequate wardrobe.

your brown luggage bags lay open in the middle of your room, half-filled and overflowing. your beige-pink wardrobe stood wide open, its doors barely hanging on from the sheer force with which yeji had yanked them earlier. clothes were scattered everywhere—on your bed, on the floor, even draped over felix's outstretched arms as he inspected each piece with a face of horrified judgment.

"how—how do you live like this?" julie gasped, clutching a plain white t-shirt like it was a crime scene.

ryujin groaned into your pillow, sprawled lazily on your bed next to yeji, who was scrolling through her phone like she wasn't in the middle of this fashion emergency.

"guys, i literally do not care. just pack some shorts and a couple of tank tops, and boom, you’re set."

felix gasped so loudly you thought he might faint. "absolutely not," he said, voice filled with betrayal. "never ask ryu about fashion ever again, please." he turned to you, eyes wide, like this was the most crucial moment of your life.

"y/n, you are going to a summer trip with your fake boyfriend’s family, and you don’t even own a single—" he looked down at your pile of rejected clothes, "—decent sundress?"

you groaned, dropping onto your carpeted floor with your head in your hands. "it’s not that deep. it’s not like i’m trying to impress them or something! they seem pretty happy with me already,"

julie, still horrified, threw a beige oversized hoodie at you. "that’s where you’re wrong, babe. you are not just some random guest on this trip. you’re jeongin’s girlfriend."

yeji snorted. "correction! fake girlfriend."

julie ignored her. "do you understand the weight of that? the prestige? you have to look like the cool, effortless, stunning girl that yang jeongin—god bless him—the fashion icon of the entire uni himself— managed to bag."

ryujin blinked. "prestige?"

"hey! i'll have you know i am very fashionable myself. my wardrobe is just... not in the mood right now."

felix nodded sagely, ignoring you completely. "exactly. if she doesn’t look incredible, the aunts and uncles will start asking questions."

you whined, throwing yourself backwards onto the floor. "i don’t even own summer clothes!"

felix dramatically sank to his knees next to you, cradling a polka-dotted blouse you hadn’t worn in two years. "i know. and it hurts me."

yeji finally glanced up from her phone, unimpressed. "what do you even wear when it’s hot?"

you gestured at your usual attire—loose or flared jeans, oversized graphic tees, random strap tops, a pink zip-up hoodie despite it being way too warm outside.

julie covered her eyes like she was physically in pain. "no. nope. no! you are not dressing like a teen who just hit puberty on this trip."

"i have style," you defended weakly.

felix raised a skeptical eyebrow. "do you?"

ryujin huffed. "okay, fine, let’s actually try picking outfits before felix faints from sheer disappointment."

felix nodded, regaining composure. "yes. let’s. y/n, show me what summer clothes you actually have."

you sighed, crawling over to your wardrobe. you reached inside and pulled out the first thing you saw—a simple white crop top.

julie squinted. "it’s… okay. where are your maxi skirts?"

you bit your lip. "i only wear miniskirts, you all know that!"

felix collapsed onto the floor, gripping his chest. "god is testing me."

yeji, deadpan, turned to ryujin. "do we need to call an ambulance?"

"no, let him suffer," ryujin muttered.

ignoring them, you dug through your closet, pulling out a pair of denim shorts, beside a flowy miniskirt and a loose floral blouse you had shoved in the back from last year. "okay, how about these?"

julie pursed her lips. "cute, pretty, but it doesn’t scream ‘jeongin’s super chic girlfriend.’"

felix peeked over, nodding slightly. "it could work if you accessorize properly. add some layered necklaces, cute sandals, maybe style your hair differently—"

ryujin groaned. "you’re acting like she’s going to a fashion show. it’s a family trip."

thank you, at least i have some defense."

julie pointed at her aggressively. "family trips are the worst place to be underdressed. you never know what kind of rich aunt is judging you from across the dinner table."

felix shuddered. "exactly."

you let out a long sigh, flopping onto your bed next to ryujin. "why am i even doing this? it’s not like jeongin even cares."

yeji smirked. "oh, babe. it’s not about jeongin. it’s about you."

felix nodded solemnly. "you cannot lose to this bet."

julie grinned, nudging you. "you have to make him fall for you."

ryujin yawned. "that is so much effort."

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smirk on your lips. "you guys are acting like i’m not already winning."

felix gasped, shaking you by the shoulders. "that’s the confidence we need,"

you grinned. "that topper is definitely going to fall for me. he’s already been staring at me when he thinks i don’t notice."

yeji raised an eyebrow. "oh? receipts?"

you gasped, eyes lighting up, sitting up. "at the hill the other night—"

"oh my god," felix and julie squealed.

ryujin groaned, shoving a pillow over her head. "stop. stop being in love."

"i’m not in love," you scoffed. "but he is definitely falling first."

yeji snorted. "if he’s even capable of emotions."

felix gasped. "you take that back."

julie giggled. "okay, okay, but back to business. we have, what—four days before the family wedding? we need to find you something for that and the summer trip."

you groaned, collapsing into the pile of clothes on your bed. "i hate this."

felix patted your head. "it’s okay, hun. we’ll make you hot."

you peeked up at him. "i’m already hot."

julie rolled her eyes, grinning. "fine, we’ll make you unstoppable."

felix gasped, eyes shining. "omg. i’m so excited."

ryujin sighed, stretching. "cool. have fun with that. i’m gonna nap."

yeji shoved her over. "not in my bed, you’re not."

you should’ve seen this coming.

after the absolute fashion disaster that was your packing session, it was only a matter of time before felix and julie forcefully dragged you to the nearest shopping district, ryujin and yeji tagging along as your (mostly amused) moral support.

the first stop? summer clothes.

the only problem? felix and julie were treating this like a full-blown makeover mission.

"no."

you blinked at felix, who stood in front of you with his arms crossed, shaking his head so aggressively that his blond hair practically shimmered under the store lights.

"what do you mean no?" you asked, looking down at the beige linen shorts and white cropped tank top you had just picked out. "this is literally so cute."

julie groaned, throwing herself onto one of the store’s plush stools like this was physically hurting her. "it’s cute, yes, but it’s giving—" she gestured vaguely, "neutral instagram influencer who only drinks matcha."

"what’s wrong with that?"

yeji snorted, scrolling through her phone. "nothing, except you’re supposed to be jeongin’s effortlessly hot girlfriend, not someone who exclusively shops in the ‘clean girl aesthetic’ section of pinterest."

ryujin hummed, tossing a random hat onto your head. "i think she should just wear a trash bag. that way jeongin won’t fall for her."

felix gasped dramatically. "how dare you."

you sighed, rolling your eyes as you put the shorts back. "okay, fine. what do you suggest, then?"

felix’s face lit up as he practically sprinted toward a rack of dresses. "oh, i thought you’d never ask."

and that’s how you ended up with twelve different outfits shoved into your arms as you were pushed into the dressing room.

. . .

outfit #I : a bright yellow sundress with thin straps and a flowy, knee-length skirt.

you stepped out, raising an eyebrow at your friends. "thoughts?"

felix clasped his hands together. "sunshine incarnate, i love it."

julie tilted her head. "it’s cute, but is it ‘jeongin’s-girlfriend’ cute?"

yeji squinted. "hmm. i like the color. but maybe something a bit more…"

"hot," ryujin supplied, lying on the bench like she was exhausted.

julie nodded. "genius!"

you sighed, stepping back into the dressing room.

outfit #2: a deep red wrap-around top with a matching skirt.

you emerged again. "this?"

"damn mama," ryujin whistled. "now this is hot." she says, only to be jabbed at the shoulder by yeji, brow raised.

felix pursed his lips, tapping his chin. "sexy, confident, yet elegant. approved."

julie gasped. "oh my god, imagine jeongin seeing you in that."

yeji smirked. "he’ll die."

you rolled your eyes, fighting the heat rising to your cheeks. "we are not dressing to impress him, we’re dressing for the trip."

felix smirked. "sure, babe."

outfit #3: a white off-shoulder top with ruffled sleeves, paired with high-waisted denim shorts.

julie squealed. "oh, this is perfect for the beach!"

felix nodded. "it's so giving main character."

yeji snorted. "she is the main character."

ryujin, however, hummed. "i like it… but you need something for the nights too. something that says ‘i’m effortlessly attractive and totally not in a fake relationship.’"

"what outfit even screams fake relationship..?"

—

after several more outfit changes, you finally had a pile of approved clothes—flowy skirts, cute crop tops, a few dresses that definitely screamed "jeongin, you should totally fall in love with me!" and a couple of chic yet comfy beach fits.

you huffed, collapsing onto the store bench. "are we done?"

julie checked the shopping bags. "for summer? yes."

felix grinned. "but now… wedding outfits."

you pulled out your phone to check the time, when you noticed the notification of a missed call. so, you were scrolling to jeongin’s contact before pressing call.

after a few rings, he picked up.

"what do you want?"

you grinned, putting him on speaker. "is this the way to treat your pretty girlfriend, topper?"

yeji and julie burst out laughing as you heard jeongin sigh on the other end. "i’m hanging up."

"you're the one who called me twenty minutes ago."

"that, was twenty minutes ago."

"okay, and now it's twenty minutes later. why'd you call?"

"are you busy?"

blink.

"kind of..?"

"nevermind then."

"aw, is my boyfriend missing me?"

"delusional."

"truthful."

"annoying."

"happy to be of service!"

"y/n, are you coming? we're gonna leave!" julie called out from a few steps away.

"well, as much as i'd love flirting with you, i have some... business to continue with"

"and that is?"

"don't ask why, but i was miserably dragged to go shopping with the others. for our coming trip."

you could hear him frowning. "trip?"

"yeah? our trip, you know, the one where i’ll be your stunning fake girlfriend in front of your family?"

"thank god you're getting a new wardrobe."

"where in the world did that come fr-"

"y/n l/n!" a certain displeased blonde called out.

"coming, coming,"

"i gotta go," you sighed. "i got some really cute outfits, by the way. felix and julie are making sure i look extra hot. should i send you pictures?" you giggled.

"no."

felix gasped dramatically. "wow, rude."

"where the fuck did you come from?"

"you’re all insane," jeongin muttered.

"aww, does the hot nerd feel overwhelmed?" yeji teased from behind.

"i’m literally hanging up."

ryujin chuckled. "you totally should’ve expected this."

jeongin groaned. "i regret everything."

you laughed, twirling a lock of hair around your finger. "see you soon, topper."

the call ended with a very unhappy jeongin. or so you thought.

felix cackled. "oh, he’s so screwed."

julie smirked. "and you are so winning this bet."

you grinned, standing up and grabbing your bags. "now, let’s go find a dress that’ll make his entire family question how he managed to date someone so hot."

felix beamed. "now that’s the attitude we love."

. . . later.

you should’ve known felix was up to something.

the way he kept glancing at his phone, the mischievous glint in his eyes every time you held up an outfit—yeah, something was definitely going on.

but you? you were too busy suffering under the weight of yeji’s and julie’s enthusiasm to question it.

"why am i even doing this?" you groaned, throwing yourself against the dressing room door as yeji shoved yet another hanger into your hands. "it’s just a wedding. i’ll wear something decent, i promise."

felix scoffed, crossing his arms. "decent is not an option. you are the chic girlfriend of the man who literally has fashion bloggers thirsting over his outfits."

julie nodded sagely. "we cannot let you disgrace his name."

ryujin, who was sitting comfortably on one of the store’s plush chairs, simply raised an eyebrow. "why do i feel like felix is taking this more seriously than the actual wedding?"

"because i am," felix declared dramatically, hands on his hips. "this is war."

"okay, try this on!" yeji said, practically throwing a pastel blue dress at you.

"what’s wrong with the one i already picked?" you grumbled, looking down at the sleek brown dress in your hands.

felix gasped. "absolutely not." he snatched it away so fast it nearly ripped. "this? for a summer wedding? sweetheart, are you trying to look like a wannabe mafia attending a funeral?"

you rolled your eyes. "it’s not even black!"

"it's close to it! and it’s literally giving ‘revenge after being left at the altar,’" julie added, shaking her head.

you groaned. "i literally do not care."

"well," yeji smirked, "jeongin will."

you froze, eyes narrowing. "what do you mean?"

felix, suspiciously, looked at his phone again. "oh, nothing."

ryujin suddenly sat up straighter, a knowing smirk on her face. "wait a second…"

before you could react, your phone rang.

and of course, it was him.

"hold on," you furrowed your brows, feeling suspicious of him, but he just flashed you a bright, innocent smile.

sighing dramatically, you answered the call, bringing the phone to your ear. "do you miss me that bad?"

"are you seriously about to buy a black dress for a wedding?" jeongin’s voice came through, flat but incredulous.

you blinked. "how did you—? wait, in my defense, it's dark brown! it has sparkles and everyth-" you pause.

"lee felix."

you turned to glare at your traitorous friend, who was suddenly very interested in the store’s interior design.

"yang jeongin," you huffed, "i can wear whatever i want, and you can’t stop me."

"oh, i absolutely can, darling," he replied. "and i will. i’m on my way."

"what?"

"see you!"

the line went dead.

you stared at your phone in horror. "he’s coming here?"

felix beamed. "oh, he’s definitely coming here."

"i will actually commit a crime," you muttered, rubbing your temples. "felix, why did you do this?"

"because," felix said, "you dress like a hot girl, but this is a wedding. a yang family wedding. if you walk in looking like the ceo of enemies to lovers, inc., jeongin’s gonna have an aneurysm."

ryujin shrugged. "he’s not wrong."

"god save me from these people," you groaned.

yeji patted your shoulder. "no, babe, trust me, we’re the best! now, get in there and try on the dresses before jeongin shows up and lectures you in real time."

"too late for that," julie muttered, eyes widening as she glanced toward the entrance.

you followed her gaze—and there he was.

dressed in a perfectly tailored gray blazer, black slacks, and a white button-up with the top two buttons undone, he looked like he had just stepped off the cover of some high-end fashion magazine. his black hair fell slightly over his glasses, sharp jawline extra sharp as he scanned the store like he was here on a mission.

"oh, we are so screwed," ryujin whispered.

felix grinned. "speak for yourself. this is the best day of my life."

his fox eyes finally landed on you—and immediately trailed down to the brown dress you were holding.

deadpan. "no way, felix, was she actually going to buy that?"

"yes!"

you huffed, shoving it behind you. "..no."

"liar," felix muttered, earning a glare from you.

jeongin exhaled through his nose before walking over, hands tucked into his pockets. "step aside. i’m picking her outfit."*

"excuse me?" you scoffed. "who died and made you the fashionista?"

jeongin raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "literally everyone who’s ever reviewed my outfits."

felix nodded. "he’s not wrong."

yeji, julie, and ryujin just watched in fascination as jeongin scanned the store, plucked a dress off the rack, and handed it to you. "try this on."

you frowned, looking down at it.

it was a dusty rose satin dress, with delicate, leafy lace detailing on the sleeves and a soft, flowy skirt that cinched at the waist. classy, elegant, but not over-the-top.

you blinked. "oh."

"oh?" jeongin repeated, tilting his head. "what happened to all that attitude?"

you cleared your throat. "i didn’t say i liked it yet."

"you do," he said flatly. "go try it on."

you narrowed your eyes at him but sighed, snatching the dress and marching into the dressing room. "you better not laugh."

"oh, i would never, lovely," he said—then promptly smirked at felix the second you closed the door.

. . .

when you stepped out, the entire store fell silent.

well honestly, your friends did. because the boutique was already pretty empty.

back to the point.

the dress was perfect.

the satin fabric hugged your waist just right, the lace detailing adding a touch of grace, and the skirt flowed effortlessly when you moved. the dusty rose color somehow made your skin glow.

julie clasped her hands together. "oh, wow."

ryujin, for the second time, looked mildly impressed. "damn."

yeji was already taking pictures. "dang topper, you snapped."

you turned to look at him. "well?"

jeongin didn’t say anything at first.

his dark eyes just slowly scanned you from head to toe, his lips slightly parted, before he blinked and looked away. "it’s good."

"just good?" felix scoffed. "sir, you are staring."

jeongin shot him a glare, adjusting his glasses. "whatever. let's just buy it."

you grinned. "so, you like it, topper?"

"i literally picked it out. come on, let's check out," jeongin muttered, already turning toward the checkout.

felix nudged you, whispering, "oh yeah, he’s so losing the bet."

you just smirked, following after him. "three months, yang. you’re doomed."

and if jeongin’s ears were slightly red as he paid for your dress?

well.

that was just a bonus.

"what a gentleman."

shopping for a dress was already exhausting, but accessories?

oh, you were in hell.

normally, if you weren't being dragged around, sent to trial rooms, and shoved random pieces of clothing, all day long, you know you'd enjoy this.

you stood in the middle of a jewelry store, arms crossed, glaring at your so-called friends as they stared at you like you’d just confessed to a crime.

"you’re telling me," yeji said, dramatically placing a hand on her chest, "that this entire time, you’ve been a gold girlie?"

"yes," you deadpanned. "since birth."

julie’s jaw dropped. "why didn’t you say something sooner?"

you shot her a glare. "i literally said it four times since we got here, but all of you ignored me and dragged me to the silver section anyway."

ryujin gave felix a side-eye. "that’s on you, bro."

felix had the audacity to look offended. "i just thought silver would complement her skin tone!"

"i’ve been wearing gold for years—"

"and we’ve just been letting it slide?" yeji gasped. "have we ever even paid attention to your jewelry before?"

you scoffed. "clearly not, since i had to endure an entire thirty minutes of watching you people force silver necklaces around my neck like i was some kind of experiment. fake friends, really," you feigned hurt, wiping away a tear.

julie sighed, rubbing her temples. "god, we are terrible friends."

"thank you," you huffed, flipping your hair. "now, let’s go to the gold section where i belong."

felix muttered something under his breath about you being dramatic, but you ignored him.

so, once you were finally in the correct section, things went much smoother.

for about five seconds.

because then jeongin decided to start having opinions.

"not that one," he said, reaching out and plucking the dainty gold chain from your fingers.

you blinked up at him. "excuse me?"

"too thin," he said simply, placing it back and picking up a different one. "try this instead."

you narrowed your eyes. "i don’t recall you being my stylist, yang."

"i don't recall you being my girlfriend, but here we are,"

"that was literally jisung's fault."

jeongin gave you a pointed look. "anyway, i kinda am your stylist right now. if you show up to my family’s wedding looking like an embarrassment, it’ll be my embarrassment too."

felix smirked. "damn, he’s really treating this like an investment."

"oh my god that rhymed-"

you rolled your eyes. "fine, what do you suggest, fashion maven?"

"someone's been playing way too much dti.."

without missing a beat, jeongin reached for another gold chain—this one slightly thicker, but still delicate, with a small moon pendant hanging from the center.

"this one," he said, handing it to you.

you stared at it for a moment before looking back at him. "why this one?"

"because it suits you," he said, completely straight-faced.

you blinked.

okay.

well.

that was unexpected.

you cleared your throat, quickly breaking eye contact. "it’s not terrible," you mumbled, turning toward the mirror.

felix grinned behind you. "guys what if we're all wrong and it's actually her that ends up losing the bet?" he whispered.

you turned your head side to side, admiring them in the mirror. "alright, fine, yang. you have decent taste."

"decent?" he scoffed. "i’m literally saving your reputation."

"oh, you are so full of yourself," you muttered.

"and yet, you’re taking all my suggestions," he shot back, smirking.

felix cackled. "i love you them, your honor."

julie nodded. "they’re like an old married couple."

you and jeongin both turned to look at them. jeongin spoke, "we are not."

"not yet!" you only squealed.

later.

the days passed way too quickly, and now, the morning of the wedding was pure chaos.

your shared dorm room looked like a fashion battlefield. open makeup palettes were scattered across the desk, curling irons and hair straighteners cluttered the floor, and your bed was drowning under a mountain of lipsticks, highlighters, and jewelry boxes.

julie was hunched over the floor, rifling through a pile of hair accessories, while yeji stood in front of you, arms crossed, assessing your face like an artist staring at a blank canvas.

"okay, so i’m thinking… soft glam?" yeji mused, tapping her chin.

"but with a little sparkle," julie added, eyes glinting. "i mean, this is a wedding. we have to make our girl glow."

felix, leaning against the wall, smirked. "jeongin’s gonna pass out."

ryujin, perched on your desk chair, nodded. "he won’t even have the words for it. imagine, the biggest and hottest nerd in university, standing there, watching his ‘fake’ girlfriend looking like an actual goddess."

you grinned. "oh, he’s gonna be so down bad."

minho, who was there for moral support (and probably just to witness the mess), snorted. "i feel like you guys are putting way too much effort into this for something that’s supposed to be fake."

you waved him off. "it’s about principle, minho. if i’m attending this wedding, i’m doing it fashionably."

yeji clapped her hands. "alright, no more talking. let’s get started."

you sat down in front of the large mirror, already giddy with excitement. yeji pulled out a dewy foundation, squeezing some onto a brush before carefully blending it into your skin.

"ooooh, this is nice," you hummed, tilting your head. "i feel expensive."

julie giggled. "you are expensive. you’re literally wearing jeongin’s money."

"true," felix mused. "that dress is basically his investment."*

minho, scrolling through his phone, raised an eyebrow. "does he know you’re using his money for world domination?"

"he literally bought all of this for her to not embarrass herself and him at the wedding. or so he says,"

yeji shushed everyone. "focus, people. we have work to do."

she moved on to your eye makeup, dusting a soft champagne shimmer over your lids before blending in warm brown tones for a subtle angelic effect. julie leaned in, swiping a bit of highlighter onto your cheekbones.

"okay, wow," ryujin muttered, staring at you through the mirror. "you look hot."

felix whistled. "jeongin’s not surviving this wedding."

you bit back a grin. "good. he better be speechless."

once your makeup was flawless, the group moved on to hair.

"loose waves or a sleek bun?" yeji asked, holding up a curling iron in one hand and a hair tie in the other.

"waves," julie said instantly.

"bun," minho countered.

felix shook his head. "half-up, half-down. elegant, but still fun."

yeji got to work, curling your hair into soft waves before pinning back the top section with delicate golden clips. the result? ethereal.

julie squealed. "you look like a princess."

felix nodded in approval. "jeongin is so screwed."

you twirled a strand of hair between your fingers, already imagining his reaction.

oh, he’s gonna lose his mind.

just as the finishing touches were being added, your phone buzzed on the desk.

you grinned, picking up instantly. "hey, topper."

there was a pause.

"why do you sound like you’re up to something?" jeongin finally said, suspicious.

"me?" you feigned innocence. "i’m just getting ready for the wedding."

"and she's always up to something." minho innocently called out.

"he's right.. anyway, are you done? i’m supposed to pick you up soon."

felix mouthed, ‘not yet,’ so you quickly responded, "nope, still in the middle of it."

jeongin groaned. "it’s been two hours. what are you guys doing, painting a mural?"

"excuse me," you huffed, "this is an art form."

julie took the phone from you. "quit it, yang, she’s going to be breathtaking, okay? let us do our work."

felix grabbed the phone next. "you’re gonna die when you see her, dude. we’re talking jaw on the floor, malfunctioning brain, speechless for a whole minute."

jeongin scoffed. "highly doubt it."

you smirked. "oh, you will, yang. mark my words."

he sighed. "whatever. just don’t take forever."

"patience, love," you teased. "perfection takes time."

jeongin hung up.

ryujin burst out laughing. "you are so annoying."

"and yet, he still picked up the call," you sang. "he’s already whipped."

soon enough, by the time you were fully ready, you stared at yourself in the mirror, stunned.

the dress—handpicked by jeongin himself—hugged you perfectly, shimmering under the soft dorm lights. your makeup was glowy, radiant, with just the right amount of soft elegance. your hair cascaded in perfect waves, the golden clips glinting like stars.

you grinned. "holy shit. i look amazing."

felix threw his hands up. "finally, some self-awareness."

julie wiped a fake tear. "our girl is glowing."

yeji beamed. "he is going to choke on his own spit."

ryujin smirked. "and we will be there to witness it."

minho sighed, shaking his head. "i’m leaving before i die from secondhand embarrassment."

the sound of a car horn echoed from outside the dorm building, cutting through the last-minute chaos still unfolding in your room. yeji, who had been making final, unnecessary adjustments to your hair, peeked out through the window, before gasping dramatically.

“he’s here.”

felix, standing beside you, whispered, “showtime.”

julie grabbed your shoulders. “you ready?”

you grinned, adjusting one of your golden earrings. “i was born ready.”

with that, you turned on your heel, smoothing down the fabric of your dress one last time before heading out the door, your friend group cheering you on like you were about to walk into a battle.

"oh, they grow up so quick." said a blonde.

as you stepped outside, the cool evening air met your skin, contrasting with the warmth radiating from your excitement. the moment you laid eyes on jeongin’s car parked by the curb, you smirked.

time to ruin a nerd’s life.

jeongin was leaning casually against the hood of his sleek, jet-black sedan, one hand resting in his pocket while the other held his phone. his black suit jacket was unbuttoned, the white dress shirt underneath crisp, a silver watch peeking out from his sleeve. his black hair, styled perfectly as always, slightly tousled in the wind. if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was posing for a magazine cover rather than waiting for you.

but the moment his gaze lifted and landed on you, you caught it.

a split second. a flicker.

his jaw almost dropped.

his eyes widened just a fraction, lips parting, breath stalling.

it lasted less than a heartbeat before he recovered, straightening his posture, face smoothing back into nonchalance like he hadn’t just malfunctioned at the sight of you.

damn, he was good.

you grinned, stopping in front of him. “see something you like, yang?”

jeongin huffed, eyes raking over you once more before tilting his head slightly. “i’ve seen better.”

you gasped, placing a hand over your heart. “you liar.”

his lips twitched, barely hiding a smirk as he opened the passenger door for you. “get in before you make us late.”

you made sure to take your time as you gracefully stepped into the car, your dress pooling around you as you sat. jeongin shut the door behind you before walking around to the driver’s side. as he slid in, you shot him a playful look.

“i know you almost fainted back there.”

jeongin scoffed, starting the engine. “please. i have an immune system strong enough to handle some glitter.”

you gasped again, dramatic. “this is gold, jeongin. not glitter. gold.”

he smirked, finally glancing at you as he pulled onto the main road. “and what’s the difference?”

you pointed at him. “that? that right there? that’s why you’re single. being a fashionista.”

jeongin let out a laugh, the rich sound filling the car. “i’m literally dating someone right now.”

you shrugged, adjusting your earring again. “right. fake. that means you’re still single, technically. which, i repeat, is because you don’t know the difference between glitter and gold.”

jeongin shook his head, exhaling through a smile. “you’re exhausting.”

“and yet, here you are, willingly spending time with me. interesting.”

he glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a small smirk still lingering. “not willingly. you just happen to be my only option for tonight.”

you scoffed. “please, your entire family is about to think we’re soulmates. try to act a little more obsessed.”

he groaned. “god, don’t remind me.”

the car settled into a smooth rhythm on the highway, the soft hum of the engine filling the space between conversations. the city lights stretched out beyond the windshield, a blur of gold and blue against the darkening sky. you rested your elbow on the door, cheek against your knuckles as you stared out at the view.

“so,” you said after a beat, “nervous?”

jeongin raised an eyebrow, hands firm on the wheel. “about what?”

“about bringing your totally real girlfriend to a family wedding?”

he exhaled a laugh. “not at all. i know how to handle them.”

you hummed. “and by handle, you mean avoid?”

“exactly.”

you grinned. “well, i’m excited.”

jeongin turned his head slightly. “you are?”

“yeah,” you mused. “i mean, i get to see you panic in real-time when your aunts start asking when the wedding is.”

jeongin groaned again, this time leaning back against his seat like he was already exhausted. “i swear, they’ll probably have a guest list prepared.”

you patted his shoulder reassuringly. “don’t worry. i’ll just tell them we’re taking it slow. maybe a destination wedding next year.”

jeongin shot you a glare, but there was amusement flickering beneath it. “if you say that, i’m leaving you in the parking lot.”

you gasped. “heartless.”

he only smirked, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “you knew that before agreeing to this.”

“agreeing?” you scoffed. “more like getting trapped. let’s not forget who set us up.”

jeongin exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “han jisung.”

you both sat in silence for a moment, before saying in unison—

“i hate him.”

laughter erupted between you two, the sound blending seamlessly with the steady hum of the car.

after the laughter faded, jeongin stole another glance at you. his gaze lingered a little longer this time, tracing the glow of the streetlights reflecting off your skin, the way your eyes seemed even warmer under the city’s golden hue.

“how do you do that?” he murmured.

you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “do what?”

he hesitated for a split second before looking back at the road. “turn everything into a game. like you’re always winning something.”

you smirked. “because i am. i win at life.”

jeongin rolled his eyes. “that’s not what i meant.”

you watched him for a moment, your smirk softening just slightly. “i don’t know,” you admitted. “i guess… it’s more fun this way.”

he hummed, fingers tapping against the wheel again. “you don’t take things too seriously.”

“not true,” you corrected. “i just choose what to take seriously.”

he glanced at you again, this time studying you. “like what?”

you shrugged. “people, mostly. the ones i care about. the things that make them happy, the things that make them sad. everything else?” you smiled. “i don’t see the point in wasting energy.”

jeongin was silent for a moment. then—

“you’re kind of weird.”

you burst out laughing. “took you long enough to figure that out.”

his lips twitched, eyes flickering between the road and you. “still… i think it’s a weirdly nice way to live.”

you leaned back into your seat, looking out at the twinkling city lights. “well, duh. i’m awesomesauce.”

"i take everything back." jeongin muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he turned onto the exit leading toward the grand venue. the anticipation of the night ahead settled between you both, electric, humming beneath the surface.

and though he wouldn’t say it out loud, jeongin was beginning to think that maybe, he was going to lose this bet.

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send in an ask, message or reply (preferably the first two since i often lose track ╥﹏╥ ) to be added !!

comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! req. are only open until the last week of february, so please read my guidelines beforehand if you do send one !! thank you for reading love, hope you liked it <3

[imahyperfixated-artist]

Rest

~————~

Ler:Doey

Lee: Y/N / You :3

Warnings: Mention of Feet tkls(?) vaguely described Injuries

‼️TIS A TICKLE FIC, NOT YOUR THING? GO AHEAD AND CLICK OFF‼️

Matt, Kev & Jack’s colors :3

A/N: First Fic I am putting out there, Inspo came from @conflictedemma little comic of Doey, hope you like it and I’m sorry it’s so short TvT .-👁️‍🗨️🐭🌲

~————~

You sat on one of the beds in the safe haven. Exhausted but too paranoid to do anything but scope out the area. The Doctor was defeated and the prototype was nowhere around at the moment, maybe he got spooked by the Doctor's defeat. Ollie wasn’t responding at the moment but aside from that everyone was fine. The generator was fixed, most of the Critters resting, same with Kissy and Poppy.

For the most part, it was just you awake. You knew you could sleep. But You hadn’t slept in awhile and regardless you just knew you’d be plagued with nightmares. Adrenaline ran through you anyways. you couldn’t sleep, your body wouldn’t let you. So you sat debating what to do.

So many whispers about being hungry from the critters earlier. Why not go find some food, you had nothing better to do. You mounted your Grab pack on your back and went to leave, being quiet as you headed to the Infirmary. Avoiding waking any of the critters. You were just about to leave when two dough arms wrapped around you and pulled you back, Doey looming over you.

“Now where are you going, pal?”

Doey questioned, his tone curious and slightly suspicious. Though You helped his suspicions when you explained, pulling out the notepad you’d found a long while back and writing the explanation. He let go of you and moved to face you properly.

“Ah..well, you’ve been on a looot of adventures lately, friend. Don’t think it’s, ya knows..time for a little break. You just..look exhausted”

Doey suggested, eyeing you up and down. Your eyes were sucken, body littered with scratches and bruises. Your body shook with exhaustion despite your need to move.

‘They look like sh!t…’

‘Kevin!’

“Very exhausted..”

you shook your head, refusing to rest. You should make yourself useful. You had the energy, right? Doey frowned at your answer, your defiance to rest.

“Are you sure? As much as we need food, we don’t need you getting burned out. You’ve already done enough ya know.”

Doey tried again but again you refused so Doey gave in and sighed.

“Alright, fine..but at least let me patch you up first.”

Doey pleaded, giving you a look that made you cave. As long as it was quick.

Doey had you sit on a medical table as he laid out some bandages. He had you take off the Grab-Pack, putting it to the side. He looked closer at the scratches and bruises, running the dough and still mostly soft dough over your skin. He poked and prodded to check for any broken bones or internal pain, starting at your ribs.

That’s when the chaos started to ensue.

You were able to control yourself at first, sitting still and schooling yourself but eventually you started losing that control. Doey gave you a look, raising his eyebrow at every little jump and squeak. He asked if it hurt and shook your head, obviously he didn’t believe you but continued the examination regardless.

You kept jumping at every poke and prod at your ribs. Doey kept asking if you were okay and you kept nodding yes but with every jump and twitch and jolt his belief in that started depleting.

Then you giggled, you had failed to muffle your giggle when he yet again prodded at your ribs. That made him pause.

‘No way…’

‘Oh you’re kidding-‘

‘Aww, They’re ticklish!’

Doey stared at you for a moment, before his face split into a grin.

“What was that, friend?”

You shrugged and shook your head, acting clueless and Doey chuckled, raising his eyebrow again.

“Are you suure you don’t know? Well, if you don’t know, I suppose we should find out.”

Doey stated, gently digging into the spaces between your ribs. you yelp and crumble, giggles quickly bubbling up in your chest and spilling over.

“Does this hurt? And be honest, bud.”

Doey questioned, tilting his head teasingly. You shook your head, pushing at the doughman’s hands, which proved to be difficult.

“No?..what about this?”

Doey questioned as a new hand sprouted from the dough and reached for your tum. Gently prodding into the muscles.

You fell back onto the medical table in light hysteria, trying to push the three dough hands away which was impossible due to the dough texture simply morphing around your attempts.

“I guess not cause you’re giggling..what about your knees”

Doey asked rhetorically as yet another, smaller hand sprouting once more. Squeeze your knees which made you kick out.

“Oh would you look at that, your reflexes are working perfectly! Hmm where should I got next? I could..make sure you have all your ribs or..make sure you didn’t break your foot, that’d be a real shame if you had..”

Doey teased, not stopping for a second. Watching you laugh and wiggle around on the table like squirming would make a difference.

Doey watched with some fondness as you squirmed around and tired yourself out. Adorable. it wasn’t long before you tapped out and Doey pulled away immediately, giving you a moment to breathe before helping you sit up.

“Are you alright? I didn’t go too far, right?”

Doey asked with genuine concern and smiled when you nodded, confirming you were fine. Damn, it had been a minute since you’d laughed like that.

Doey gave you a moment longer to fully recover before he properly bandaged you to which he did give you a couple more pokes and squeeze. When he finished he brought you back to the beds to had you lay down with a blanket. You fell asleep with the other critters, smile plastered on your face.

Doey smiled at the sight, glad he could at least help you. It wasn’t long before he also got some shut eye, staying close by. Ya know, just in case.

[16wolke11]

CRESTFALLEN - Lando Norris

A/N Tuesday is for the tears

Summary: The reader struggles with the emotional rollercoaster of her relationship with Lando, who has been increasingly distant, only returning when it's convenient for him. After a painful confrontation, where the reader tells him she can't continue in a relationship where her needs are unfulfilled, and despite Lando's pleas, she decides to leave, acknowledging that it's time to let go and move on.

Words: 2276

Warnings: Sad Ending __________

When I woke up this morning, I just wanted to go back to sleep, avoiding what would happen today and ignoring all my responsibilities forever. Lando is returning home today, and what usually would be a day of happiness for me is now something I await with dread. Today is the day I am going to end this relationship if you can even call it that.

Every time Lando leaves for a race, appointments at the headquarters, or anything else, I am crossed out of his life. It wasn’t like this when we first started seeing each other, but it turned into this miserable thing over time. Even though I’ve seen improvements, I can no longer do this without hurting myself over and over again.

So when he texts me, ignoring the one I sent him while he was away, I make my way to his apartment. Standing in front of the door, I didn’t even want to knock, when I was usually so ecstatic to meet him again. I take a deep breath before finally lifting my hand, and it doesn’t take long before the door flies open to reveal a grinning Lando.

“Hey love,” he greets me, pulling me into the hallway and lifting my chin to press his lips to mine. As much as I would like to sigh, kiss him back, and just snuggle into his embrace, this is not what I’m here for.

“Stop, Lando,” I mutter against his lips and manage to get out of his grip, leaving him with a confused look.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed. But he does take a step back, letting me get rid of my coat, and I need to take a deep breath before speaking up.

“We need to talk.”

“That doesn’t sound fun,” Lando pouts, and I can feel some anger rising in my chest.

"This is serious, okay?" I snap and get a weird look in return. This isn’t a great start for a conversation, but since it isn’t going to be a good one, it might be okay.

"I just missed you. Can you at least give me a proper hug?" Lando mumbles, and I sigh. It feels like being guilt-trapped, but for him, it must be strange. Usually, I’m the first one to hug and kiss him when he’s back. Things have just changed without him noticing.

“I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself,” I mutter to myself but do hug him, knowing that it’s probably the last time I’ll be close to him. Almost giving in to his familiar touch, I lean my head against his chest and wrap my arms around him. Lando did hear what I tried to only say to myself, and I can hear the confusion in his voice when he speaks up.

“What do you mean?”

I pull back from the hug and take a step back, trying to create some safe distance between us. “Me waiting for you to come back, waiting for this to become a real thing,” I begin, trying to find a starting point for this conversation that would make sense for Lando. He furrows his eyebrows, so I just keep rambling.

“Every time I think it might be different, you pull away again, leaving me behind like a convenient space-filler when you’re back home.” I try to stay strong, not wanting to cry at the beginning of the conversation, and calmly tell Lando my problem, but I know it’s going to be hard. Slowly, Lando’s eyes widen, and there’s concern on his face, like he’s slowly realizing which direction this conversation is going.

“It’s not like that. I don’t think you are…” He stutters, struggling to find his words, and ruffles his hands through his hair, messing it up slightly.

“Fuck, I never wanted to hurt you, you know that. Right?” Lando asks eyes fixated on me, and I lift one of my eyebrows at his question.

“Hurt me?” I ask him, thinking about what happened again and again during the last weeks. How my texts have been abandoned as soon as he left the country, and how he acted like nothing happened as soon as the plane touched down back here again.

“You’ve been doing that for months now,” I inform him, crossing my arms in front of my chest. A defensive move while trying to hold myself together and not fall apart.

“Acting like you care, and then just disappearing, acting like I never even existed.” I tell him what he did, at least from my perspective.

“I don’t know what to believe, what to think about you, and I need to figure out what you even want from me.” This is the reason for this conversation. Being with Lando was once my favourite thing, and now it’s something I fearfully look forward to. I can see that Lando gulps, fingers fiddling with each other. Good, at least he’s as nervous as I am about this topic.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Lando admits, and I would love to believe him, but I just can’t. He desperately speaks up again, and I try to listen to his words.

“I don’t even know how to fix this, I try…” At this point, I already have to stop him.

“You try, really?” I scoff at his words because it felt like many things, but not like he tried to make this relationship work for us.

“It doesn’t feel like it. You come and go out of my life like I’m just a side character in your game of life. But I’m not.” There are many emotions on Lando’s face, trying to bubble up to the top, but I’m not finished. It’s finally time to tell him how I really feel about the whole thing we shouldn’t even call an “us.”

“I’m not here for you to just mess with me when it’s convenient and leave when it’s not.” My voice cracks, and I need to blink a couple of times, trying to get rid of the first tears prickling in my eyes. He uses me when he’s back home, and when he leaves, it’s like he pauses his life here and just continues playing when he’s interested in it again. But the world keeps spinning here, even though he isn’t here.

“That’s not my intention. Please, just listen.” Lando begs, trying to grab my wrist, holding onto me, but I snap my hand back, knowing I will fail to stay strong when his soft touch is on my skin. Lulling me back into the good times, but I need to keep a clear head now.

“I’ve listened to your excuses and promises for long enough. You’re no longer the person I fell for. You keep changing, and I don’t feel like I know you anymore.” I am no longer sounding as strong as I would like to, my voice rather thin, but I need to tell Lando how I felt during the last weeks. In the beginning, he was sweet, and I understood that his life was busy, but time passed, and he is no longer the one I fell in love with. The one who called me late at night just to talk for a bit, or even to keep each other company while watching a movie even though we were miles apart. Now he is the one who puts me away and just pulls me back out when it’s convenient for him.

“I never wanted that to happen,” Lando promises, now pacing up and down the room.

“I never wanted to hurt you.” He looks straight at me, and I try to listen to his words, maybe even to an explanation.

“I feel like I don’t even know how to be what you need.” Lando says, hesitating for a moment before continuing his speech. “You deserve someone who gives you everything, and I… I can’t do that.” He admits, and my heart aches. Even though I am angry at him, at the same time it hurts to see him broken. But for my own sanity, this needs to be done.

“Then why are you still here?” I ask him. When he is aware that he isn’t the right person for me, why didn’t he leave? Keeps torturing my feelings even though he tells me he knows better.

“I already gave you all of me, and you tell me it’s not enough? Is that the reason I’m not enough?” The tears flow now, but I don’t care. I could prepare myself for this conversation as much as I wanted, but some things just caught me off guard.

“It’s not about you not being enough. You are everything to me! But I don’t know how to let you be loved the way you deserve by me. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.” Lando tells me, and my heart breaks at the sight of him. His slumped shoulders and the absolutely broken look in his eyes. It does take me only a few seconds to realize the meaning behind his words.

“You’re afraid of love.” I whisper, a realization which does make sense, but makes everything just more painful than it already is.

I take a deep breath before coming to another hard point on my list. “And I can’t keep waiting for you to see me, really see me, without hurting myself.” Trying to keep my head up, I look into Lando’s face, wanting to see his reaction and if he is at least as hurt by this as I am. “How long do you think I was supposed to wait for you to figure this out?” I ask him, my voice trembling, I hate the hurtful feeling in my chest, but I know I need to break it fully now to slowly heal it later. “How long am I supposed to act like it’s okay while you keep breaking my heart?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Lando’s voice breaks, and I need to look twice to realize that he is crying as well. I’ve never seen him so vulnerable, and as cruel as it sounds, it’s almost good for me to see him hurt. That he can experience these feelings and not just brush them off as it felt for me every time he left before.

“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” he tells me, and I believe him.

“I love you, I really do, but I’m terrified of losing you and pushing you away.” I need to close my eyes at his confessions, warmth flooding my broken heart, but I have to let my head take over before my heart falls again for him.

“You already did this. You already pushed me away. And I don’t know if I have the strength to keep doing this. I don’t know if I can keep loving you like this when you pull away every time it gets too real.” I know it’s cruel to give him crumbs like telling him about the love, but I try to be honest. Put all my feelings into this, and this includes the hurtful things as well.

“Please don’t leave me.” Lando pleads, and he takes my hand in a desperate grip.

“I need you, and I know I messed up. I know I hurt you, but I’m scared. Scared of ruining everything, and I swear I…” He sniffles softly and takes a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down.

“I’ve tried too, you know.” I tell him and carefully start to remove his fingers from my hand. Fingers shaking, but I am determined to stay strong. “But it always felt like I was fighting this battle alone. I can’t be the only one trying anymore. I need someone who wants this, wants me.” I explain to him and take a step back, trying to bring back some distance between us.

“I want you, more than anything. I just need time.” Lando tells me, his fingers curling into his hoodie like he needs something to hold on to.

“I don’t have any time left. I can’t keep waiting for you to decide I’m worth it. Maybe I’m not, at least not for you.” This was something I thought about during Lando’s last trip. Maybe I am worthy of love, but not just of Lando’s.

“I just need to let go of the hope that one day everything will be perfect.” The little cry that comes with these words makes me sound even more miserable, but the truth has to be spoken. I need to let go of the perfect image of an “us” and try to go on with my life.

“Don’t say that.” Lando tells me, attempting again to grab my hand, and I let him, probably for the last time.

“Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracks, and I would like to hug him, tell him that everything is going to be okay, but that would be a lie.

“You are everything to me, and I will lose everything without you.” Lando pulls me closer, desperate, while we both just cry. He doesn’t stop me when I pull back my hands, his arms slumping down on the side of his body, and I can see the spirit breaking in his eyes when I step back.

“Maybe it’s already too late, Lando,” I whisper and turn around, finally leaving his apartment, knowing I wouldn’t be able to resist him if I stayed any longer. This end is a beginning, and outside the building, I am finally able to breathe again for the first time in forever.

[allfearstofallto]

If Childe’s darling got injured and lost her memory, would he just roll with it? Diluc seems a lot more hesitant due to his guilt, but would Childe see it as a good thing? Like “yup we are married and u love me! Mwah!”

I WROTE MORE THAN I WAS SUPPOSED TO FOR THIS 😭

Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

The man in front of you made you flustered. Almost to the point of silence. As he eyed you over cautiously, you were eyeing him as well. Taking in his unfamiliar features, his handsome face, strong jawline and big hands that felt you all over, checking you for more injuries. Did you know this man? Internally, you hoped you did, and he was sure acting like he knew you. His face was so close to yours, you could feel his breath against your lips. And it excited you.

His palm pressed to your forehead, a look of curiosity on his face, "You don't have a fever," he muttered beneath his breath, "Why is your face so red, love? Are you hurting anywhere."

Love?

Well, that solidified your mind that there was something happening between the two of you, making your heart beat excitedly in your chest.

"Just a little confused," you said back. Even your voice was foreign to you. This being the first time you'd spoken since you woke up in this large, oranate room. In a bed so plush and warm, you were getting buried in blankets and soft pillows. Next to a man so handsome and charming, you were sure he was some sort of model.

"You hit your head pretty hard out there. I told you to pace your steps when walking on ice. You don't have to try and keep up with me, I won't leave you behind," as he scolded you gently, his hand cupped the back of your head. His fingers gently caressing a knot that you didn't know you had, making you wince in his hold.

"I'm sorry?" You weren't sure what answer he wanted from you. Weren't even sure who he was or what you'd done wrong, but you felt like apologizing was the best option. Although, when you looked up at him once more, you were met with a frown and furrowed eyebrows.

"You're...sorry?" He questioned with a hum and you nodded, a little too quickly. Your head began to hurt again and you groaned from the throbbing pain.

He sat next to you, hit bottom sinking into the mattress. His touch, while gentle, seemed hesitant. He reached forward, eyeing you the entire time like he was waiting for you to snap and bite with a sudden change of heart. When you didn't, the orange haired man held your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of your palm before pressing a kiss to it. The entire time gauging your reaction with those blue eyes. He saw the way you flushed from the affection and his lip quivered ever so slightly.

"Who am I to you?" His question had a hint of malice behind it, but you truly couldn't tell.

"My- my boyfriend?"

"Your husband," He corrected with a smirk, pulling you a little too harshly into his firm, built chest. You hugged him back, squeezing him in an embrace that was supposed to be comforting, yet it felt so wrong. So unfamiliar to you.

Your husband's name was Ajax, although, everyone called him Childe. The two of you met in Liyue, where you were from, during an event called the Lantern Rite. Those words triggered something in your mind, a sense of familiarity that you hadn't felt in days. A sense of excitement and the smell of fireworks and greasy street food. When you looked to your husband, with a big beaming smile, telling him that you thought you remembered the event, he frowned.

"Don't force yourself to remember anything you don't need to," he said while patting your head. Words that were supposed to be spoken in comfort had such a dark foreboding energy to them, one he couldn't mask even if he tried.

Ajax worked as a trader of goods localized in Snezhnaya. That's why he typically was away from home. When asked what you did for work, he just gave you a signature smile and cupped your cheek in his hand, "Look pretty for me." You giggled bashfully as you were pulled into another one of his dominating kisses, sinking into his touch. He always kisses you like this, he told you, with his tongue in your mouth, lapping away as if he were trying to devour you whole. He always kisses you like that and you loved it. Even if there your fight or flight always felt triggered when he approached.

But was that the truth? The maids, they whispered often about how different the lady was acting. You were the lady of the house weren't you? Ajax assured you that you were always like this. Yet, he seemed less and less honest as the days went by.

Coming home late at night with the coppery smell of blood on him and a dark, hollow look in his eyes. He was just trading butchered meat, that's all it was. So why couldn't you believe him?

And his touch, was just so cold, to a scary degree. Why did you flinch every time he touched you? And why did he seem to stare into your soul when you? Like he was waiting for something, but when it didn't happen, he would just smile and pepper your face in kisses. Like he was trying to distract you from the part of yourself that needed to remember.

You lay awake at night next to Ajax. He'd long since fell asleep, but you couldn't get your heavy eyelids to stay shut. You'd been having nightmares, but you didn't tell him that. Nightmares about him, that felt more like a memory than a dream. He'd noticed that you'd began to pull away at each passing day and that only made him pull back harder. Your hands trembled as you thought of just what you were getting yourself into. When you looked over at the portrait of you two on the wall, a wedding painting you assumed. You and him, dressed head to toe in white. You looked at it and wondered if there was a reason why you weren't smiling in the painting? Why you looked scared instead?

[tayswife]

This may be a weird question to ask but…could you write a fic about Elphaba self-harming and Glinda finding out about it?? The only reason I ask is because I’m a self-harm addict and I would find it a bit comforting to see something like this…if that is too much totally understandable, it’s a hard subject. But anyway I love your short fics! have a lovely day!!

— love me anyway

☆ glinda upland x elphaba thropp

☆ summary: glinda catches elphaba hurting herself and for once, elphaba finds comfort in somebody.

☆ warnings: self-harm, depression

☆ a/n: not a weird question at all don’t worry! here you are lovey, i hope this brings you comfort! i completely understand what you’re going through, please keep yourself safe and i’m always here to talk or to just bring some gelphie comfort :)

every evening, glinda and elphaba followed the same routine. glinda would get herself ready for bed by her vanity which would take about thirty minutes while elphaba would sit on her bed, already ready to get to sleep, with a book on her lap.

at least, glinda thought she was reading. that’s what it appeared to be. but unbeknownst to her, elphaba was enduring something much worse behind the book.

it was silent in the room. glinda always respected elphaba’s time to wind down. as much as she wanted to talk about everything at a mile a minute, she stayed quiet for her dear friend at this time.

to her surprise, elphaba was the one to break the silence.

not in the way she’d expect.

“shit,” elphaba cursed. she typically never cursed. she sounded in pain. it immediately worried glinda.

“elphie?” glinda asks, hesitantly walking closer to elphaba’s side of the room. elphaba was sat in her typical spot on her bed, however, her back was turned towards glinda. “are you okay?…what are you doing?”

when she hears glinda’s footsteps, she hastily shuts her book, letting the small blade hide between the pages. she bunches her sleeve in her fist and she looks at glinda like she had been a child caught sneaking candy late at night. but unfortunately for her, the situation is not as simple and innocent as that.

“i’m— nothing. i’m just reading.”

“no you’re not. your book isn’t even open.”

glinda makes it to elphaba’s side of the room. she plops herself next to the green witch on her bed. elphaba can feel her own sweat against the black cotton bunched in the palm of her hand.

“elphaba thropp, what are you doing? tell me! i want to know!” glinda says sternly but elphaba finds it hard to take her sweet voice seriously. elphaba doesn’t answer, she stares down at her lap. the lap that her covered bloody arm is resting on. “did you get hurt or something? let me see.”

before elphie can respond, glinda reaches towards elphaba’s left arm. glinda’s hand wraps around her wrist and elphie winces when she feels that pressure against her fresh wound.

glinda notices this, and so she doesn’t stop. and somehow, someway, elphaba doesn’t stop her either. her brain shuts down and all she can do is sit there in pain and let it happen. and it’s too late for her to do anything because now her arm that was once green but is now covered in bloody red, is out on display for the blonde girl to see.

“oh my goodness,” glinda says, as if her breath was stolen from her lungs.

she’s going to think your violent. evil. a monster. you’ll live up to your reputation. she will tell everybody.

“elphie, say something,” glinda now says, worry laced throughout her words. “elphie please,” she sounds like she’s crying now and so elphaba finally looks up, meets her eye to eye. and both girls have tears pooling in them.

“i’m sorry,” is all she says at first. and she doesn’t know why she says it, but it just comes out. “i’m sorry. you shouldn’t have seen that. you can request a new roommate or—”

“elphie stop! stop with that nonsense,” she cries, “i don’t want another roommate i want you. and i want you to be okay.”

“i am okay,” the green witch gulps. she can hear her own heartbeat in her ears, almost making her want to scream and run away. she wonders if glinda can hear it to.

“no, no you’re not. stop lying to me, elphie, please!” tears are rolling down her face now. glinda is typically emotional, but elphaba can’t seem to understand why she would be crying over this. “why do you do this? how long? and how did i not know?”

“before i met you. way before.”

glinda grabs her arm again and looks down at it, careful not to touch any of the fresh wounds. she couldn’t bare to have elphaba endure anymore pain than she already has. “oh elphie. i didn’t know everything was this hard for you.”

elphaba doesn’t say anything back. she’s looking everywhere except for the scene in-front of her. she doesn’t like talking about her feelings or how hard she feels everyone’s treatment towards her. she doesn’t like feeling weak.

“i’m getting the first aid kit. don’t move.”

glinda stands up and goes across the room. elphaba can hear shuffling and moving of things and then the dip of the bed when glinda sits back down beside her.

she grabs elphaba’s arm again, gently wipes away all the extra blood all over her skin. when she does this, she can fully see all the damage that she’s done to her perfect green skin. to glinda, the green is beautiful despite what classmates may say.

“you don’t have to do this,” elphaba says, breaking the uncomfortable silence. she doesn’t like feeling glinda’s eyes on all of her hurt. it feels vulnerable. she feels naked.

“i don’t,” she says, and she doesn’t look up at her friend; too focused on caring for her. “but i want to.”

glinda applies special ointment to her cuts. elphaba doesn’t know what it is. and she doesn’t really want to either. probably some high end shit, she thinks.

glinda tries her hardest to not hurt elphaba further. elphaba doesn’t know entirely why glinda’s doing this, but elphaba feels as though she doesn’t deserve it.

nonetheless, the featherlight pressure of glinda’s fingertip stings when the ointment touches her open wound.

she hisses and says, “ow,” under her breath. she doesn’t want to make glinda feel bad. she’s just trying to help. but everything is hurting so badly right now.

“sorry. i’m sorry,” glinda pulls her hand back, looks up at elphie that refuses to meet her in the eyes. maybe it’s me, glinda thinks, maybe this is all my fault and she’s too ashamed to look at me. “i should’ve warned you that it would hurt.”

“it’s not your fault. you’re just trying to help.”

they stay silent again. it’s not typically awkward between them now that they’re best friends, however, the silence now is extremely painful.

glinda pulls out a box of bandaids. elphaba can see on the box that they’re all light pink ones. she almost laughs at it. of course glinda would have pink bandaid’s.

glinda peels off the wrapping, and with elphaba’s arm still displayed for her, she places it right on her wounds. she adds two more to make sure everything is covered so she doesn’t get an infection. she knows elphaba wouldn’t tell her if it got infected either. that worries her.

elphaba doesn’t move, doesn’t pull her sleeve back down, she simply just stares down at her arm. at the pink bandaid that clashes with her emerald green skin. as a constant reminder of who cared for her. of the first person to ever care for her.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t have any other ones. i can go down to the nurse and ask, if you don’t like the pink.”

“no,” elphaba says, and glinda swears she heard elphie even laugh a little, “i like it. it goes good with green.”

despite her correcting glinda days prior, she says it the way glinda did in a way to give back her kindness she’s shown and to humor the serious situation.

“it so does,” glinda says, quiet enough to wonder if elphaba had even heard it if it weren’t for the gentle smile on her face. “elphie. can you look at me?”

it takes her a lot, it truly does. she feels as though there is a lock on her neck that is keeping her staring down at her arm. she misses looking at glinda’s face, and staring into her big brown eyes. but she can’t want that right now. it pains her. it shames her.

she does it anyway. because somehow she always ends up following glinda commands. glinda shows to have much little magic in her, but maybe her power is in making elphaba obey to all of her demands. could’ve fooled her, to say the least.

she expects to find fear written on her roommates face. but she only seems to find concern. not fearing that elphaba would end up hurting her too, but concern that elphaba wasn’t okay. she didn’t care about herself. she knew elphaba was harmless. maybe to glinda and others, but not to herself.

“why?” glinda asks. she doesn’t know what else to say. the words are there but she can’t think of them.

“why not,” elphaba says. she thinks it would truly be easier to explain why not. there’s not many why not’s, but it would take explaining her entire life and everything everyone has ever said and done to her to explain why.

glinda looks terribly upset at her response. “i wish you told me.”

“i’ve never told anyone.”

glinda stares at her momentarily. elphaba thinks, for a moment, that she’s about to say something heartbreaking. instead, glinda wraps elphie into an unexpected hug. so tight that she believes all of her shattered pieces are being glued back together. and glinda just hold’s her is all. so no more hurt. no more questions. no more fear. she just holds her which is just enough for now.

the gentle lavender scent of elphaba sparks tears in glinda’s eyes. it’s the little simple things about her that makes her wonder how people can be so cruel to her. and yes, she was too at first. but she doesn’t believe it was ever with malice, however, she still truly regrets it every day.

her sweet scent of lavender, how her green skin glows in the moonlight, how pretty she looks when she’s zoned out into another history book. glinda thinks of these things and it doesn’t add up to the elphaba she saw tonight. how can she be so hurt like this.

“promise me you won’t do this again. i don’t want you to hurt,” glinda says against her ear. squeezing her eyes shut as she still holds elphaba in her arms.

“it’s not that easy…” elphaba responds quietly, gulping down her words and the lump in her throat.

“then promise me you’ll always come to me first,” glinda pulls away, but doesn’t unravel her arms from around elphie’s neck. now they’re faces are so incredibly close. glinda can see all the hurt on her face. maybe it’s always been there, she thinks, as she can see clearly now.

elphaba couldn’t recall the feeling she felt inside of her body right now. the feeling of being cared for. the feeling of someone not wanting her to hurt. it was unfamiliar. scary. but not entirely horrible.

“i promise,” elphaba says. she was good as keeping her promises, glinda knew that much. elphaba just hoped she wouldn’t let glinda down and go against her this time.

glinda gently smiles at her promise. she grabs elphaba’s arm and brings it to her rosy pink lips. with elphaba intently watching the scene, she places a kiss onto the bandaids.

the feeling inside elphaba was too overwhelming. she didn’t know what it was. love, maybe? either way, it was so empowering the she completely bursts into tears right in-front of glinda.

it was only the second time this had happened. first; at the ozdust. and then now. but something about this time was so inimate. and the tears flowed so much stronger, like an ocean of pain.

“oh, elphie,” glinda pulled her roommate back into a hug. elphaba just let it happen, curled up into glinda’s body with her hands covering her soaked face. “it’s okay. i’m here now. it’ll all be okay.”

she let her friend cry in her arms for what felt like ages. she didn’t want it to end. she wanted to sit here with her elphie in her arms where she knew she was safe forever.

“do you want to talk about it,” glinda asked, “or do you just want to be right now?”

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

“tomorrow? please, elphie?” glinda nearly begs and she sounds almost hurt, herself. she couldn’t go on knowing elphaba is hurting this badly without her knowing what’s going on. she needs to take everything that hurts her out of her little world.

“tomorrow,” elphaba confirms quietly. sniffles after too.

elphaba was the one to pull back when she composed herself. she was embarrassed. but at the same time, she felt completely safe here with glinda. glinda, somehow, always knew how to care for her. which was completely unexpected due to their first encounter.

“i’m sorry. thank you for all of this,” elphaba says shyly.

“elphaba thropp, don’t thank me. i only ever want to be here for you,” glinda says. she places her warm hand against elphaba’s cheek. elphie melts into it. she wants to become one with her. glinda wipes away the last of elphie’s tears with her thumb. “i’m going to sleep right here with you tonight.”

it wasn’t the first night they had slept in the same bed. glinda got scared of a storm another night and forced her roommate to sleep with her. it just felt out of the ordinary that it was due to her own problems now.

elphaba probably would’ve fought against it if it was any other night. but right now, all she wanted was glinda. and her gentle touch. “okay,” elphie murmured.

glinda was expecting to quarrel with her about it, but to her pleasure, elphaba complied very easily. glinda got up and put her first aid kit away while elphie got under the covers, leaving the duvet folded at the shins of her legs so glinda could slip in.

“can i hold you, elphie?” glinda asks as she lays beside elphaba in her bed. the pillows smell like her and elphaba is so warm. it brings her a sense of comfort that she’s hoping elphaba feels right now too.

glinda grabs the duvet and covers both their bodies with her. elphaba hums a yes. she doesn’t trust her voice right now and she doesn’t want to feel weak by verbally saying yes. if she doesn’t say it, then it’s completely glinda’s want. deep down, she wants nothing more than to lay in glinda’s arms for eternity.

glinda settles her arms around elphaba’s body. it’s unusual for them to lay like this together but it feels so natural, as if they haven’t gone a single night without laying together like this.

it’s silent for a couple of minutes. however, they both lay awake staring at the ceiling. elphaba assumes glinda’s asleep by now but, really, she’s thinking about everything and nothing to say to elphaba. she’s never dealt with something this heavy but she’d deal with it forever if it meant she was there for elphaba.

“elphie?” glinda says quietly yet it seems to bounce off the walls and echo. it makes elphaba cringe because the way she says it implies that she’s bringing that dreaded situation up again. “i know you’re hurting. I can't take the pain away, but i want to be the one to make it easier.”

“glinda—”

“if the pain is too much, let me carry it for you. i can’t ever lose you, elphie, i love you too much.” her confession made elphaba’s heart drop. she didn’t know how glinda exactly meant it. she couldn’t possibly feel the same way…

“i promise you won’t. i love you too, glinda,” elphaba murmurs the last part, but glinda hearing it reciprocated makes her heart flutter. like there’s a baby bird testing out it’s new wings in her chest. she has to take a deep breath to ease the feeling.

[lucentaire]

Usually---and she suspected that it came with the territory of being friends with Laxus---Carena liked storms. However, usually she was watching storms from the safety of her warm home. She already liked them a lot less when they got in the way of her work. Now that a storm was brewing while she was injured and had places to be, she could not claim to be a fan. It was gnawing on her, the knowledge that this storm was not on her side. And warm clothing would only mitigate the unpleasantness that awaited her, it would not be able to fully protect her from it.

But while she was hardly looking forward to the journey home (because it would be a rough one), she was looking forward to the comforts awaiting her at home---a nice bubble bath might be out of the question unless Porlyusica just made the wound go away, but a recent shopping spree had ended with a comfortable set of cosy lounge wear. A part of her shuddered---apparently, adulthood meant getting excited about the promise of slipping into comfortable clothing and being tucked under warm blankets with a good book. Maybe, she pondered, maybe she would leverage her injury and ask to borrow some of Laxus' more relaxing records . . . and the record player that was usually in the dining room.

Lost in thoughts of whether or not she would have to play up the pain she was in (probably not, her side was aching quite a bit) to convince her dearest friends and roommates to nurse her back to health, she missed the sound of Gray's returning footsteps, just like she missed the return of his very adorable dog. Consequently, she almost flinched when the winter gear was draped over her. Ah. The omnipresent pompoms revealed the scarf to be Lisanna Couture---unless Gray knew someone else who would gift him a handcrafted scarf---and Carena could not help but smile a little bit. It was a bit of a reminder, she needed to actually post the package she had assembled for Lisanna a while ago.

Flicking a strand of her hair over her scarf-covered shoulder, she turned her head to glance at Gray for a moment, feeling almost tempted to pout a little at him before suppressing that weird impulse. "Really makes me wonder what kind of oversized bug you think I am," she mused as he drifted away, not unlike a snowflake in a breeze, to feed Muddy. "Actually---don't answer that. My pride is as bruised as my side."

Eating another few spoons of her breakfast, she pondered his offer. It would be the responsible thing to accept it, she knew that much. Flying long distances while either in pain or right after taking pain killers are not exactly a wise decision due to the risk of getting disoriented, but getting caught in a storm was even unwiser. She was not overly concerned over letting her quest givers know that the situation had been handled---she was not strapped for cash---but she really needed to get back to Magnolia. She could not risk getting stuck in the mountains, especially not due to a storm as storms were notoriously unpredictable.

Tugging on the pompomed end of the scarf, she sighed. "Actually," she started as her feet tapped against the floor. "Is Winterweed directly opposite my destination, geographically? I'd like to be in the air for the shortest time possible so I'd appreciate it a lot if you could show me the best spot from where to start my flight. I probably also should, I don't know, let you know what my estimated time of arrival in Fireweed would be. Just in case that I end up crashing. Hasn't happened yet, but there's always a first time for inconvenient things to happen. I forgot if I already asked, but is your MCL currently intact?"

A slight frown persisted on his face as he continued to stare out the window, his mind on the approaching weather. His expression melted away into a slight smile as he observed Muddy rolling around in the snow. Although the dog would come back in cold and damp (which was never fun to deal with), it was certainly better than when she would come in covered in her namesake.

He turned his attention back to his guest, dipping his head in acknowledgement as she accepted his offer of warmer clothes. A measure of relief eased his shoulders, knowing that she was wise enough to see the necessity and not foolishly deny it. He’d known people (and yes…sometimes ‘people’ had in fact been simply himself), that had stubbornly insisted that they would be fine without the extra layers, too confident in themselves and in their estimation of their travel. It didn’t tend to end well.

Still, was it any surprise that Evergreen was sensible enough to take the help? Of course not. She was certainly better at it than he was, and he could appreciate that it might be hard for her in any case. He knew that if the situation was reversed and he had (somehow) accepted help, his pride would be grating on him. The last thing he would want would be for someone to make a big deal out of his situation or make excuses for him. With that in mind, he said nothing else on the matter and instead simply took a large draught of his smoothie before setting down the glass on the countertop.

“I’ll get you some warm stuff now,” he said, beginning to move past Evergreen, deciding he might as well do the task in the moment.

As he headed into his bedroom, it occurred to him that there was a chance his guest might think he was eager to get her on her way. Following that thought, it also occurred to him that he was in fact, not eager to send her on her way. It was…strange to consider, that he found himself reluctant for her to leave when he was normally quite content on his own, but it really shouldn’t be strange. She was, after all, easy to be around and they were…friends? Yeah, friends.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind and set his attention on the chest of drawers in his room. Giving thought to his prediction of the weather, chilled air and a chance of snow later, he decided a hoodie would be a nice, cozy option for her. He would grab a spare coat for her later too, when it was time for her to leave.

Opening the largest drawer, he surveyed the options for a moment, then pulled out one of his favourite hoodies. Dark brown, soft, subtly lined with fleece for extra warmth, the item would no doubt swamp Evergreen’s figure, but that was precisely why he chose it (and perhaps also because the colour would complement her better than some of the other options).

He plucked it from its haphazard place with its confines, then draped it over his arm as he closed the drawer and opened a different one. With remarkably less consideration than his previous choice, he withdrew a set of sky blue, knitted winterwear – a scarf, gloves, and beanie.

This set, like the four others of varying colours within the drawer, had been knitted and gifted to him by Lisanna. She’d gotten rather into the hobby lately and had insisted on forcing generously sharing her creations with him. He recalled she’d been quite pleased with this particular set, as she’d implemented a white cloud pattern and had also gotten the hang of making pompoms (the ends of the scarf and top of the beanie bore evidence of her newfound love for the decorative element). He was sure Lisanna wouldn’t mind him lending the items to someone in need, especially to one of her own friends.

Goods in hand, he exited the room to return to Evergreen. Since she was occupied with her breakfast, he gently tossed the hoodie and gloves to rest over the back of the nearby armchair for when she was ready for them. Seeing her with her bowl of cereal, and thinking back to her comment of not having to climb on the counter to get it, he wondered if her roommates did put the cereal boxes out of her reach on purpose, just to get a reaction from her.

The image of her chipmunk cheek pout came to mind, and he had a feeling that if that was the face she’d make at such an act, he could see why her friends would be tempted to provoke it. Ever since he’d seen it himself, some time ago now, the expression occasionally popped into his mind and made him wonder how to bring it about again. The urge to do something to tease a reaction from her tickled the back of his mind like the whisper of a little devil on his shoulder. It had been a long while since he’d last felt such a thing, and in fact, he’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel it at all. In truth (although it was little known), once he was comfortable with a person and sure of their reactions, he was the type to delight in being a nuisance to them from time to time.

Mentally shaking himself, he stepped through the kitchen to open the back door and allow Muddy her re-entry, closing it again once she scampered through. The icy touch of the breeze slipped inside and once more made him aware that his guest was likely cold, even with the door firmly shut again. Driven by an impulse he didn’t want to look to closely at, he moved closer to Evergreen and draped the scarf he still held around her shoulders. Then, he unfolded the beanie and settled it on her head, gently tugging it into place.

A smile flashed briefly across his face at the way the floppy pointed end of the hat draped down over her forehead. He readjusted it to hang at the back and then gave a small but mischievous flick to the pompom.

“There,” he said, “snug as a little bug now.” His gaze, warmed with amusement, referenced her tshirt with a quick glance before he shifted away and got busy setting out food for his eager canine.

While Muddy happily dug into her morning meal, Gray straightened up and considered what Evergreen had said about her flying back to the village. It made sense for her to try travel as quickly as she could, not just to try fast forward Freed’s inevitable questioning, but to get ahead of any bad weather. He sighed, not envying her journey or return home.

Even knowing she could likely fly from his house and not need to pass along the roads to find the way, skipping Winterweed, and head directly to its sister village where her reward awaited her, he found himself offering, “Muddy and I can walk with you back to the Winterweed if you want.”

[babylacedream]

youre a needy guy but i guess i kinda like that

i always find myself back to you જ part 4 of ?

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

pairing: yandere!bucky barnes x f! reincarnated autistic reader

warning: struggling with bucky's death, grief, yandere themes, anxiety, brainwashed!bucky & obsessed!bucky, violence, angsty

summary: he wont leave your side... could he possibly sense that this is not your first life?

notes: inspired by pinkpantheress song called internet baby, I recommend listening.

please remember i am autistic, so i will be writing my personal experience with my autism. thanks!

guys, i know you cant easily access these files regarding the winter soldier but please hear me out.

Before you knew it, it was morning. The birds were chirping alongside your window, and the sunlight crashed in making you groan.

You opened the door, needing to use the bathroom, when you saw Bucky in your living room just sitting there motionlessly with the lights on.

You walked past the open living room door, too tired to deal with this. You got out milk and your chocolate powder. Your favorite cup, specifically for your chocolate milk.

You felt a broad chest plastered against your back, making you jump. "Hey, what are you doing?!" He wrapped his arms around your waist, breathing in your scent. "Why do you smell like her?"

You froze, taking a peek at his expression. His furrowed brows, that knowingly gaze in his eyes, that longing you hoped you'd get a second chance to see again.

You nudged him in his stomach making him back away from you. "You want some milk?" He just stared at you, almost like there wasn't a thought behind those eyes. Though he didn't respond you still served him some milk.

You gestured for him to sit on the dinette table. "Here, drink." You placed the glass of milk in front of him. "Don't worry, I didn't poison it." You joked before turning; he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving. He looked at you, yearning for you. "Are you her?"

"Who?" You asked, acting confused.

He reached out carefully and caressed your locket, opening it. "Her." You looked down at your locket, then at him. "No." You spoke almost downheartedly, "I'm not."

You don't want to go through that pain again. Of him possibility leaving you again. You had to protect yourself. It's been forty-eight years since his presumed passing. You just couldn't. You are twenty years old; you deserve better than this.

He let go of your wrist and locket before drinking your milk. Well, he certainly acts like the same old Bucky. Though he seems out of it, this was your Bucky.

But the question remained in your mind. What happened to him?

You quickly took a shower and changed into some casual clothes. You had to go to city hall and request some files. You took a glance at Bucky. He looked caught in a daze. He should be fine, right?

You wasted no time getting on the bus and making your way to the city hall of Arlington. You asked the lady for records on James Buchanan Barnes. He was a U.S. veteran; they had to have his records.

"Reason for requesting?" The lady asked, and I showed her my locket. "That man here is James Buchanan Barnes. He was an acquaintance to a... friend of my parents from New York City."

You left with his files. You sat down in a nearby cafe, looking through his files. "KIA." You hardly believe that now. You turn the page and try to find out where he was killed in action. Danube River, Europe.

You scurried up the files and placed them in your tote bag. Now, you found yourself in the library. It's hilarious; this may look like an ordinary library, but if you are close enough to the librarian. It can be many things.

"Hey, Mrs. Jones! I brought you your favorite. Apple pie and with extra whipped cream, just how you like it!"

"Oh, sweet!" She laughed, and you laughed with her. "What do you want?" You choked on your laugh, "Geez, well, since you asked." You placed your elbows on the counter and rested your chin on your palms. "Could you get me files on the Danube River?" I grinned, hoping to take my chance.

"Really? What's it this time?"

"I was hoping you would let it slide, Mrs. Jones." You gave her your puppy dog eyes.

"Mm, fine." She got up, leaving you alone in the empty library. You looked around at the books while she got the files.

"What are you doing here?" That monotone voice made you yelp, earning a few hushes. You turn around to see Bucky behind you. "W-what are you doing here?!"

"W-were you following me?" You whispered. He didn't say anything, just stared down at you. You were about to slam your palm hard against your forehead, but Bucky stopped you by catching your wrist.

"Don't hurt yourself," Bucky said, and let go of your wrist before sitting down on a sofa in the lounging area, almost like he was waiting for you to be done so he could leave with you.

You were greatly dumbfounded.

Your eyes were on Bucky, observing him before Mrs. Jones brought out what you needed. "Oh, you're a lifesaver!" You grabbed the files from her. "Thanks!" You placed the files in your tote bag. You said your goodbyes to Mrs. Jones and looked at Bucky in the lounging area, passing by him.

Once he knew you were finally leaving, he stood and followed right behind you.

"Is that your boyfriend, sweetie? Damn!" Mrs. Jones shouted, making all eyes on you, especially Bucky's. Your cheeks were red, turning to Mrs Jones. "No, he's not!"

You were walking really fast to your apartment, trying to get the word boyfriend out of your head. Obviously, Bucky kept up with you; why wouldn't he?

You turned around frustrated. "Why are you following?!" You didn't mean to yell, but you were starting to get anxious.

"I can't let you get hurt." He responded solemnly, making you sigh. "I'm not her, okay? I'm just a normal citizen girl living in Virginia. So, if you are doing this because you think I'm her, it's best you leave...."

...Before I start to crack.

Even though you told him harsh words, he still stood beside you. Never leaving you. You felt bad, but it had to be said for your protection.

You made it to your apartment, leaving the door open for Bucky to come in behind you. You dropped your tote bag on the floor, forgetting why you needed the files in your tote bag and went into your room. Falling onto your bed and hugging yourself as you wept.

[tiredfoxtf]

hi. h/c 500 words anon here with more words, but it's getting away from me i'm at 1k words and it isn't FINISHED D: so this is just the first ~500 words. you drew the art that started this i'm just possessed (and took some liberties umm sorry!!)

-------

"Etho," Tango said, "you have to report this."

Etho didn't respond. He couldn't take his eyes off Joel, couldn't stop looking for any sign that Joel was still 'awake' in there. Any sign that Joel could hear him.

In his head, Etho knew that Joel would be okay. Tango was very good at what he did. Soon enough, there would be no evidence that this day had ever happened -- no physical evidence, at least. But that didn't make Etho's stupid human heart feel any better.

"Etho," Tango said again, a couple octaves higher this time as his 'stressed Tango' voice came out, "If you don't call this in, I'll have to, and I've got enough on my plate already!"

Etho made a wordless noise. Ducked his head. Pulled his phone out of his pocket. He didn't want to. He hated talking to authorities, for lots of reasons. But it wouldn't be right to leave Tango with all the work. "I'll be right back, Joel," he murmured. "I just need to make a phone call."

Did he imagine that Joel's eyes flicked towards him for a moment? Did it matter that he squeezed Joel's hand before he walked away, even though Joel probably couldn't feel it?

It wasn't an easy call to make. It was never going to be easy. Etho struggled to keep his voice steady as he spoke to the dispatcher. Pressed the fingers of his free hand into a bruise on his side so that the pain would keep him focused. He did not want to be doing this. If it had only been himself that was hurt he would have crawled back to his apartment and never told a soul. This was for Joel, though. His repairs were going to be so expensive there'd be no way to keep it hidden. The Company would push for an investigation, would want to press charges against the 'vandals'. Etho pressing charges might get quicker action from the police, but his injuries would barely be a footnote in the Company's report. An audio engineer was a replaceable expense. A custom-designed entertainment android was an investment.

He hated having to stand there at the front of Tango's shop and wait for the paramedics and the cops to arrive. Hated having to put on his 'professional' face and talk to so many uniforms and keep his anxiety from showing. They asked questions (too many questions) and took pictures of Etho's injuries. They made him take his shirt off for it. He really hated that. They barged into the repair bay to take pictures of Joel, to document the "property damage". They interrupted Tango's work, questioned him, made him break out his license and contracts and argue them out of taking Joel away as "evidence". Etho might've done something really stupid if they'd tried that.

They made Etho tell them what happened. They asked why he'd risked his life for an android. Etho knew that the truth -- the real truth -- would not help anyone. It might make things worse. He had learned very early in his life that sometimes, to survive in the world, you had to lie about important things. He had gotten very good at lying.

(TBC! they will get to the recliner i swear)

Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure, 500 words anon, I love you (/silly).

I'm so obsessed with this. Etho hating to talk to authorities, Tango literally pulling everything up to fight tooth and nail for his right to keep Joel on repair, Etho having to lie about his intentions to not needlessly complicate things. And I am not even talking about how well it's written, because I don't understand how you're so amazing and skilled with language. Also, we love creative liberties in this house. I am just glad to be a source of inspiration really.

[moeblob]

TIL "Lay On Hands" is a paladin healing skill and I am blessed by this knowledge.

[zorquil]

Taking this quiz and reacting to it! Spoilers for the quiz below!

Okay, question one. What's the food for the superbowl? Well, I don't watch it, but I'll do chips and salsa. Was hard to choose between that and the veggies with ranch. Also, wow on one of the options being "whatever the wife brings".

Question two. Revealing baby's... gender. Oh gosh... Okay, I guess I'll choose cake. Though shooting a box would be kinda funny.

Question three, inspirational post. Let's see what's... Oh. No. No... That freaking first option is such a toxic masculinity thing... Like seriously, man up? Ugggh... Well, I'll just choose "the best view is after the hardest climb" because we love seeing our blorbos suffer and get through hard things. Could have chosen "don't let your sparkle dull", but the phrasing just feels so off.

Question four is a tattoo, which I don't really care about. Let's see, the options are... a skull, "Live, Laugh, Love", a dream catcher, beer, and an infinity symbol with the word love. Uh... I guess dream catchers are pretty cool?

Let's go to question five! ... Oh my gosh... "Choose an LGBT to complain about on Twitter". Sigh... I really don't care about celebrities much, if at all? Like, all I really care about are my silly Pokémon blorbos and the like. I don't even recognize half of these people, so I'll just go with Lil Nas X because X reminds me of how dumb Twitter is. Though honestly, he's kinda rocking the pink cowboy attire!

Question six is "what's your kid's name?" I'm going with Carter, I guess. The others don't appeal to me as much. Actually, wait, Avery is also kinda nice... Yeah, I'll choose Avery.

Question seven! Pick your wedding theme! Honestly, I never think about it due to not really caring much about romance or anything? Though a barn-type wedding would be kinda fun because cowboy hats! Rustic was a close second.

Question e-Oh no. I already saw it and clicked over to this tab because it said "how do you feel about gay people?" What homophobic crap will be appearing on this... Yep, the options are horrible. I am in pain. The second option is just so Christian that it's just... ugh... I'll just choose the option that is the best of them, which is "YASSS SISTER SLAY!" I'm choosing to ignore the second part of the option.

OH MY GOSH! XD QUESTION NINE: HOW ARE YOU GETTING DIVORCED! Okay, that's honestly the best-worse question on this quiz! I'll actually go serious and choose the option that would fit me the most, and that's "we got bored of each other". I know that it's a bit horrible, but to be honest, I don't think I have much passion to keep a romantic relationship going (at least from what I know since I never really dated anyone except for one group church date activity). To be honest, I'm too introverted to care about stressing going on dates and stuff.

Question 10: Pick a TV show to binge. Already, Family Guy will be off the list. I don't like the idea of people who pay to have a matchmaker pair them off with someone else. Don't really care about race cars. Though I do think it would be interesting to see things get built up and fixed, so I'll choose that one. House remodeling kinda falls under that umbrella, to be honest.

Question 11 is about drinks. All of them are... stuff I refuse to drink because I don't like beer, wine, or alcohol. I'll just choose White Claw because that's the most furry name of the drinks. :3 But if I did choose a drink... Just water. Please? I don't really care about flavor drinks. I just care about being hydrated.

Finally, last question! ... Oh no. "Pick a cause to stand behind". What is it going to be? ... Yep, these are horrible. I'll probably choose Boy Scouts though since I was in a pretty good pack when I was young. Honestly though, I audibly groaned when I saw the option of "anti-vax" and "traditional gender roles".

And the result is... Christian Girl. XD

Assigned Cowboy Christian Girl By Quiz. I'm apparently in the 12% according to the poll.

That was horrendous, but I still managed to get a masochistic kick out of it. Frick you, a-frog-in-the-bog, and I hope you have a wonderful day to make up for the night you ruined for me.

answer some questions and I’ll tell you what kind of straight person you would be

[badlydrawn-brostrider]

Do your scars ever hurt?

BRO: My scars?

BRO: Most of 'em don't, like my hands. Don't even feel when I cut 'em anymore, honestly.

BRO: Some hurt. Usually the newer or deeper ones.

BRO: This shit? Pretty new. Hurts like a bitch sometimes, especially when It's cold.

BRO: 'Sides that . . .

BRO: . . .

BRO: . . Don't feel a thing.

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

one odd thing about going deeper is that I'm no longer satisfied with shallower. and that's, weirdly enough, a net positive. I've self harmed - eh, twice? in the last month. both were well into the criteria that should have got sutures and ignored it; suspect I hit a vein once and was extremely close to muscle, which feels kind of odd. yeah, it's ramped up; yeah, there's a lot of blood and all that kind of stuff. very high risk of infection, potential nerve damage and all that kind of stuff (though I have not got either of them; I scared off an infection that wanted to hang round by chucking quantities of alcohol on it). but at the same time. that's only twice. that's a lot better than previously.

[kirby-the-gorb]