#i give everyone a chance and keep giving them

[ducktoo]

Again

IVE’s Jang Wonyoung x M!Reader

Note: I have resorted to the sacred prompt list by Anon again….this helped me so much frrr. Hope you will post your first ever fic here so I can tagged you!!

This concludes the unofficial (or official ig) IZ*ONE marathon. @hyeyulenjoyer hope this was a fun ride for you. And thank you everyone for enjoying these fics as well! Also appreciate IVE for paying respect to the recent tragedy. All the dumb haters who find ways to hate them again....just touch grass pls.

(this was the perfect picture for this fic lol)

The tickets sit on your desk, undisturbed, their glossy surface catching the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You don’t even need to read the text printed on them anymore. The details are already burned into your brain.

A fan sign.

It was supposed to be special. The kind of thing you looked forward to for weeks, marked on your calendar with a little star. You were supposed to show up, tease her about messing up choreography, make her laugh in the middle of a serious performance, see that look in her eyes that was just for you.

Now, the tickets feel like a joke.

Your phone is face-down beside them, dark screen hiding the messages you haven't opened yet—the well-meaning texts from friends, the casual work notifications. All messages except from her.

Wonyoung.

You close your eyes, but it doesn't help. The memory of your last call with her is still fresh, the words playing over and over like a song stuck on repeat.

"I just don’t have time for this anymore."

"For us, you mean?"

"Mhm."

The way she said it—calm, measured, like it was just another item to tick off on her to-do list—had made something inside you crack. There had been no anger in her voice. No hesitation.

That…hurt more than anything.

You had wanted to say something, anything to make her stop. To remind her of the nights spent whispering over the phone until she fell asleep, of the rare moments when she let herself be vulnerable with you, of the way she would light up the second she saw you waiting for her backstage to take her to eat a whole cow together.

But you couldn't mutter a voice.

You had just sat there, phone pressed to your ear, fingers gripping the fabric of your hoodie so tightly it threatened to tear.

And then, just like that, she was gone.

It was three days ago.

Three days of checking your phone too often. Three days of convincing yourself you were fine. Three days of staring at these damn tickets on the desk and trying to figure out why you hadn’t just thrown them away. You should sell them. Give them to someone who’d actually enjoy them.

But something stops you.

Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s stubbornness. Maybe it’s the stupid, lingering part of you that refuses to admit that she’s really gone. Whatever the reason, you find yourself gripping them tighter instead of throwing them away.

You decided that you will go.

Not for her. Not to see her.

Just so you don’t have to sit in this room, drowning in thoughts of what used to be.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

-

The venue is packed.

Fans shuffle forward in line, their chatter buzzing in the air like static. Excited whispers, rustling light sticks, the occasional squeal when a favourite member’s name is mentioned.

Your fingers tighten around the album in your hands. (Ironically you still hold onto her album)

This is normal for them. For the fans around you, this is just another fan sign. A chance to meet their idols, to share fleeting moments, to walk away with a signature and a memory they’ll cherish for years.

You should feel the same. Instead, you’re just… tired. Who could blame you, you’re about to come face-to-face with your ex-girlfriend.

And she has no idea you’re here.

Your grip on the album tightens as the line inches forward. The first few members greet you with polite smiles, their voices light and bubbly. You do your best to respond normally, but your mind is elsewhere, trapped in the inevitable moment that keeps creeping closer and closer.

You don’t need to look up to know she’s at the end of the table. You can feel her presence.

And then, suddenly, there’s no more time left.

Your album slides across the table. Long, slender fingers stop it in place.

There’s a small pause—so brief that no one else seems to notice—but you do. You feel it in the slight delay before she looks up, in the way her fingers tighten just a fraction around the album’s edge.

And then her eyes meet yours.

She looks the same. Flawless, as always. Every strand of hair perfectly in place, makeup soft and ethereal under the bright overhead lights. And those sparkly eyes that you often got lost in.

But…she’s not yours anymore. Not at all.

There was a flicker of something—recognition, surprise, something deeper—crosses her face. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a carefully neutral expression.

Her lips part slightly, but no words come out at first. Then…

“Hey.”

It’s awkward. Too awkward. You can feel the tension hanging between you, thick and suffocating.

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your chest tightens. “Hey.”

For a split second, she looks like she wants to say something else. Like she wants to break the script, ignore the rehearsed greetings and practiced smiles.

But then—

She doesn’t.

Instead, she picks up her pen, the mask slipping back into place. Her expression evens out, and in a voice so perfectly professional it almost stings, she says,

“Thanks for coming.”

Just like she would to any other fan. That made your stomach twists.

You should’ve known. Of course, she wouldn't acknowledge it. Not here. Not in front of all these people.

Still, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Would’ve been a waste of money if I didn’t.”

Something flickers across her face, but it’s gone before you can catch it. She presses her lips together, nodding slightly. “Right. Can’t have that.”

She signs her name, her handwriting as neat and practiced as always. But there’s a hesitance in the way she moves, a slight delay before she lifts the pen from the page.

When she finally pushes the album back toward you, her fingers linger just a second longer than necessary.

Then, in a voice so quiet that only you can hear…

“Take care, okay?”

She’s looking at you now. Really looking at you.

And for a moment, just one fleeting moment, she’s not the Jang Wonyoung, the IT girl, the global superstar.

She’s just…Wonyoung.

The girl who used to call you late at night just to hear your voice.

The girl who used to lace her fingers through yours under the table when no one was looking.

The girl who told you she didn’t have time for you anymore.

You stare at her.

The words stick to your throat. You genuinely don’t trust yourself to say anything.

So you just…don’t.

You just take the album, stand up, and walk away. And even as you disappear into the crowd, you can still feel her eyes on you.

-

You’ve been doing fine.

Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

It’s been a few days since the fan sign, and you’ve buried yourself in anything that keeps your mind occupied—work, games, mindless scrolling through your phone. Anything to keep yourself from replaying the look on Wonyoung’s face at the fansign. From remembering the way she hesitated before handing your album back. From thinking about the way her gaze kept flickering toward you as you walk away, as if she was looking for something.

Or someone.

But that’s not your problem anymore. You told yourself that the moment you left the venue.

Which is why, when your phone starts ringing at an ungodly hour, you almost don’t check the caller ID. Almost.

The second you see her name flashing on the screen, your stomach twists.

Jang Wonyoung.

The ringing continues, each second stretching unbearably. You should let it go. Turn off your phone. Pretend you never saw it.

But you don’t. Because deep down, you know you still want to hear her voice. So you answer.

“...Hello?”

There’s silence on the other end for a moment, followed by a soft giggle—breathy and drawn out, the kind that used to slip past her lips whenever she was feeling particularly affectionate.

"Dummmyy!" she hums, stretching your nickname like it’s some sweet, familiar melody.

“Wonyo. Are you drunk?” You sigh, ignoring the way your nickname for her easily rolled out of your tongue.

She giggles again, the sound loose and unguarded. "Mmm… maybe."

"Goddamn it." You rub your temples. "Where are you?"

A rustling noise filters through the receiver, followed by the distant hum of traffic. "Somewhere," she mumbles. "Some bar, I think. The girls took me out."

Figures.

You shift in bed, propping yourself up against the headboard. “It’s late.”

“I know,” she says, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “But I wanted to call you.”

You close your eyes, exhaling through your nose. “Why?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, there’s a soft exhale, the kind she lets out when she’s gathering her thoughts. Then, quieter…

“Because I miss you.”

Your fingers tighten around the phone.

"Don’t do that," you say quietly.

"Do what?"

"Say things you don’t mean."

Another pause. When she speaks again, her voice is steadier. "But I do mean it. I do miss you."

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. "Well, that’s not my problem anymore, is it?"

She goes quiet.

For a moment, all you hear is the faint sound of music in the background, the distant chatter of people. She’s probably in the back of some high-end bar or a private lounge that someone of her status often went. You can picture it too easily—her long hair falling over her shoulders, her lips painted red, the glow of the city lights reflecting in her eyes.

Your heart beat rapidly at the image.

"You came to the fansign," she says suddenly, cutting into your thoughts.

You rub at your temple. "Mhm."

"Why?"

"You already know why."

"Say it anyway."

You sigh. "Because I had the tickets. It would’ve been a waste."

She lets out a humourless laugh. "Right. Can’t have that."

Something about the way she repeats your words from that day makes your stomach twist.

There’s another long pause. Then, almost hesitantly.

"Did you feel anything?"

Your eyes widened. "Feel what?"

"When you saw me again." Her voice is quieter now. "Did you feel anything?"

Your jaw clenches. You want to lie. Want to say no, not at all. That it didn’t matter. That she doesn’t matter. But you can’t.

Because the truth is, you felt everything.

The way your heart clenched when she looked at you. The way your stomach twisted when her fingers hesitated over your name. The way your mind screamed at you to move on, to stop letting her affect you, to stop caring.

But you don’t tell her any of that.

Instead, you settle for, "Who cares anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because we’re done, Jang Wonyoung."

She sucks in a sharp breath, and for a second, you wonder if she’s about to cry.

"You-" She stops, swallows. When she speaks again, her voice is unsteady. "You didn’t even try to fight for me."

Your grip tightens around the phone, knuckles turning white. "You were the one who ended things. On the phone, may I remind you."

"I know," she whispers. "And I thought it was the right choice. But now I just—" She breaks off, voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know anymore."

You shut your eyes.

It would be so easy to give in. To tell her that you don’t know either, that you still think about her, that you still wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t supposed to end like this.

But what’s the point?

She made her choice.

And you’re tired of being the one left picking up the pieces.

"You’re drunk, Jang Wonyoung," you say, voice carefully even. "Go home and go to sleep."

"Wait—"

"Goodnight."

And then, before she can say another word, you hang up.

The silence that follows is deafening.

And yet, for the first time in days, you finally let yourself breathe.

-

Or at least, it should be.

You did the right thing, you tell yourself—cut it off before it could spiral any further. Before you let yourself believe, even for a second, that anything has changed.

But still, the weight in your chest lingers.

The room feels too quiet now, the kind of silence that presses in from all sides, making it impossible to ignore the thoughts creeping into your head. You lie back down, throwing an arm over your eyes, willing yourself to sleep.

You don’t know how much time passes before you hear it.

A knock.

You freeze.

At first, you think you’re imagining it. Sleep-deprived, emotionally drained, and still reeling from that damn phone call, your brain must be conjuring things that aren’t real. But then, the knocking got more insistent. Erratic, yet insistent.

Your brows furrow. You sit up, straining your ears.

"Who the hell…?"

It’s almost 3 AM. No one in their right mind would be visiting you at this hour. Then again, you just got a call from a drunk girl not in their right mind.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s louder this time, clumsy and uncoordinated, like whoever’s on the other side can barely keep their balance. A sinking feeling settles in your stomach.

You begrudingly throw off your blankets and push yourself up, padding toward the door. Your hand hovers over the handle for a second before you sigh and pull it open.

And there she is.

Wonyoung.

She’s standing there in the dim, flickering hallway light, wrapped in a thin coat that does nothing to protect her from the cold. Her long hair is slightly tousled, the glossy perfection from the concert gone, strands falling loosely over her shoulders. She sways just the slightest, a delicate wobble on unsteady feet. Her lips are slightly parted, eyes glassy—not just from the alcohol but from something else. Something unreadable.

You blink.

She blinks back, like she’s just now processing that you’re standing in front of her.

Then, with absolutely no warning, she wobbles forward, collapsing against your chest.

You barely manage to catch her. “Jesus—Wonyo.” You gently hold her arms, steadying her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

"Surprise," she breathes, half-laughing, half-sniffling.

You let out a sharp breath. “Surprise? You’re seriously—” You stop yourself, jaw clenching. “How did you even get here?”

"I took a taxi," she announces, like that explains anything. Like that justifies her showing up at your door past midnight after breaking up with you.

You stare at her. “Alone?”

“Mmhmm.”

Your stomach twists. “Wonyoung, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

She just hums, leaning more of her weight onto you. Her forehead presses against your shoulder, and you can feel the slight tremble in her body.

You sigh, tightening your grip. “You’re freezing.”

“I was walking.”

“Walking where?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she tilts her head back to look at you properly. Her lips part slightly, like she’s about to say something—something serious, something she’s probably been holding in for too long. But then, she hiccups.

You close your eyes, exhaling sharply through your nose. “You’re unbelievable.”

She smiles lazily, like she didn’t just show up at your door dead drunk in the middle of the night after breaking up with you.

"You hung up on me," she murmurs.

You pull back slightly, just enough to see her properly. “Yeah. I did.”

"That was mean," she says, pouting. "I was talking."

"You were drunk."

"Still talking."

You shake your head, adjusting your grip on her. “Come on. You need water. And sleep.”

She hums, letting you guide her inside. “Only if you let me stay.”

You pause.

For a brief second, something in her voice sounds painfully sober.

But then she giggles again, burying her face in your chest, and you decide that you’ll deal with that in the morning.

For now, you just hold her close.

You sigh, pressing your lips into a thin line as you shift your grip on her. She’s barely standing at this point, practically melting into you like she has no bones in her body.

"Alright, come on," you mutter, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her inside.

She stumbles slightly, her fingers gripping at your shirt as she giggles under her breath. "You smell nice," she mumbles.

You ignore that.

You close the door behind you with your foot, guiding her toward the couch. She flops onto it with zero resistance, her coat slipping off her shoulders. The moment she’s down, she tilts her head back, blinking up at you like she’s expecting something.

She doesn’t hesitate. Stumble inside like she belongs here.

And maybe that’s the problem. She did belong here.

And now? Now you don’t know.

Her eyes lazily drift across the apartment, lingering on the things she still remembers—the half-empty cup of coffee on your desk, the hoodie she used to steal draped over the chair, the faint indent in the couch where she used to curl up next to you.

Then she noticed your desk, the same desk where the fansign ticket sat just days ago. The same one she saw in your hands at the fansign days ago.

"You really came," she murmurs, not looking at you. "I didn’t think you actually would."

You shrug. "Like I said. Would’ve been a waste."

She flinches. Just the tiniest bit. But you catch it.

She exhales slowly, arms wrapping around herself. "It was weird."

"What was?"

"Seeing you there. But not... There, you know?" She fully looks at you now, and there's something raw in her expression. Something you’re not sure you’re ready to face. "You didn’t smile. You didn’t tease me like you usually do. You barely even looked at me."

"What did you expect?" you ask quietly. "You dumped me, Wonyoung. You can’t just expect me to act like nothing happened."

She presses her lips together, fingers gripping the hem of her sleeve. "I know."

You wait. Give her the space to say what she came here to say.

But she doesn’t. Not right away.

She defeatedly sighed, tucking her knees under her chin, looking smaller than she ever has before. She stares at her hands for a long moment before mumbling, "I don’t know why I came here."

You scoff. "Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you drunk-called your ex, then showed up at his apartment in the middle of the night without a plan."

She frowns. "I do have a plan."

You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She huffs. "Step one: get inside. Step two..." She falters, looking away. "...I didn’t think that far."

You shake your head. "Unbelievable."

Silence stretches between you, heavy and unspoken.

Then, barely above a whisper, "Do you hate me?"

You freeze.

Your first instinct is to say no. Because of course you don’t hate her. You never could.

But that’s not the right answer, is it?

So instead, you tell the truth.

"I don’t know," you admit. "I want to. But I can't."

She looks up at you then, eyes searching. Hopeful and afraid all at once. "I messed up, didn’t I?"

You let out a hollow laugh. "Yea. Big time."

She swallows. Lowers her gaze again. "I thought breaking up would make things easier. For you…for both of us."

"Did it?"

She shakes her head. "No."

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling. "Then why did you do it?"

"I was scared," she says, and her voice is so small, so unlike the confident idol the world knows, that it almost hurts to hear. "I thought I was being selfish, holding onto you when I barely had time to see you. I thought you deserved more than stolen moments and rushed phone calls."

Your jaw clenches. "You didn’t even ask me what I wanted."

"I know," she whispers. "I thought I was making the right choice."

You sit down across from her, legs spread, elbows on your knees. "And now?"

She meets your gaze, vulnerability laid bare. "Now... I just miss you."

Your heart leaped a mile. This was the Wonyoung you always see. Not the glamorous and model-esque Jang Wonyoung everyone always see on TV. Not the well-spoken and powerful public figure everyone knows. Just…a gentle yet bubbly girl who snuggled up next to you on the couch at the end of the day.

But your brain should tell her to leave. To sleep it off, to sober up and think about this when her mind is clearer.

Then she reaches out—just the slightest, her fingers brushing against yours on the couch. And you don’t pull away.

"You’re drunk," you remind her, though your voice lacks conviction.

She smiles faintly. "Thanks…Mr. Obvious."

Silence. Then, tentatively, "Can I sleep here tonight?"

Another hesitation.

But just like before, you already know your answer.

You sigh. Your hand intertwined with hers.

"Go get a blanket. Wonyo."

She doesn’t move right away. Just watches you, like she’s memorizing you all over again.

Then, with a small, almost relieved nod, she gets up and stumbled into your bedroom as she dragged you along—the same bedroom she used to slip into after long schedules, the same one she used to call hers.

And just like that, the distance you tried so hard to create crumbles.

Again.

[mochiwrites]

When Grian enters the doorway of Scar’s base, he finds the man digging around in his chests, mumbling to himself. It’s a sight he’s walked in on multiple times before in the past, a scene that settles in Grian’s chest and leaves a sense of domesticity blanketing him. He watches for a few moments, if only to exist in the same space as the man he’s so terribly missed. Everyone had been gathered at spawn for the grand reveal of the object that’d allow for them to keep their inventories, and Grian had been so focused on it that he didn’t have the opportunity to give Scar a proper hello.

Hence why when the group split off to prep themselves for what will most certainly be a grueling fight with the ender dragon, Grian’s first stop is Scar. He himself doesn’t need to do that much prepping, already loaded with food, a water bucket, and a bow. He’s got a few potions on hand as well.

So in the doorway he stands, watching Scar with a pleased smile. His wings twitch behind him, wanting to wrap the man up in warm feathers and drag him back to his nest for some long overdue snuggles. Later, he reminds his bird brain. Instead, he allows himself a soft trill, the sound instantly making Scar pause in his movements.

Lifting his head up and turning around, forest green meets chocolate brown, and Scar’s face breaks out into a wide grin. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d get a little visit from my favorite bird,” he muses, prompting Grian to enter his base.

“Sorry for the wait then,” Grian returns, coming over to him. He checks Scar over, nodding in approval when he sees him fully decked out in diamond armor. If they had more time he might’ve been able to help Scar with enchantments, if only to keep him a bit more protected. But this is just as good—certainly an upgrade from the iron helmet.

Fully aware of Grian’s staring, Scar’s grin turns into a sly smirk. “Like what you see?” he hums, flexing an arm.

Grian laughs at him, moving to brush his hands over the shoulders of Scar’s chest plate. “It’s adequate.” It’s his turn to grin as he revives the old joke, earning a pout from Scar.

“Never gonna let me live that down, huh?” Scar murmurs, chuckling. “Should I shine it then? Make it really sparkle,” the vex hums in thought.

Pretending to think about it, Grian tilts his head. “Hm, it’s already plenty shiny. Any shinier and I might get distracted during the fight.” His hands drop down to Scar’s chest, remaining there.

Scar looks at him, still pouting. “You mean the handsome man wearing the armor won’t distract you?” There’s almost an edge of a whine in his voice as he replies, one that amuses Grian greatly.

“Oh he will,” he returns, wings curling around them, keeping them both in a feathery shield. “It’s been a while since he’s been around to distract me.” There’s a twinge of raw honesty in what Grian says, the ache of yearning sitting in his chest as he looks up at Scar.

A warm palm settles against Grian’s cheek, thumb running over his skin. Scar’s expression softens, eyes filling with the same yearning, the same depth of affection. “I guess we’ll be even then,” he speaks quietly, “because there’s a certain pretty bird that happens to be very distracting for me.”

Grian preens, a pleased coo sounding from him. He leans up to bump their noses together, pressing his forehead right against Scar’s. Scar chuckles, his other arm finding a place around his waist to pull Grian in closer. “We’re both going to end up being late to meet back up with the others,” Grian idly points out, although he makes no effort to pull away or move.

“I think making them wait an extra minute or two won’t hurt.” Scar smiles devilishly in that way of his that makes Grian huff. “Besides, you were the one who came to see me! Didn’t even give me the chance to pop in on you.” He’s teasing. “Did you miss me that much, G?”

Yes. “No,” Grian denies, “I wanted to make sure you had proper gear.”

Scar hums, though he doesn’t appear to believe Grian’s little fib a single bit. “‘course I do! I had a whole stack of diamonds just sitting around collecting dust.” He gives Grian’s waist a loving squeeze. “It’s a miracle I didn’t die while trying to make this armor.”

Grian laughs at that with a fond shake of his head. “There’s still time,” he jokes, earning a beautiful laugh from the man, one that makes his heart soar. His hand tangles itself in Scar’s hair to tug him down, and Scar is more than happy to follow through. Their lips press together in a warm kiss, one they’ve both been waiting for since Grian stood in his doorway. Grian’s body relaxes at the feeling of Scar’s lips on his own, moving in a rhythm that leaks with affection and longing. Scar is warm and soft but still so familiar and comforting; for a moment Grian thinks that all of the frustration of this world might’ve been worth it if he got to kiss Scar like this. It feels like waking up together, like crafting side by side, like falling against one another after a long exhausting day.

It feels like home.

A muffled bird noise spills from Grian’s throat, probably one of contentment that makes Scar laugh against his lips.

“I missed you too, G,” Scar sweetly confesses, pulling back just enough to look at him. Their breaths mix together, foreheads still touching.

Knowing that he never bothered to hide his true reason for coming to Scar, Grian looks up at him with a pout. “Next time you decide to take an extended mining trip, I’m coming with you,” he decides, because weeks without Scar while surrounded by endless sources of frustration was, simply put, hell. Having the rest of his flock nearby made it a little bit easier, but it did little to lessen the yearning. “The nest was too cold,” Grian quietly admits, voice just slightly above a whisper.

If possible, Scar’s expression only softens further, and he’s kissing Grian again. “Well we can’t have a cold nest, can we?” he hums, looking at Grian with a smile. “It’s against avian law, after all!”

Grian snorts with laughter, moving to pull Scar into a hug. “I don’t think the Poe Poe would be very happy about you breaking avian law.”

Scar tucks Grian against him, pressing his lips to the avian’s head. “A cold nest is more than enough to make me a wanted criminal!” he cries.

“Guess the only way to fix that is a warm nest and morning cuddles.”

“An amayzin’ idea there, G.”

“Oi!” Joel sticks his head into the doorway of Scar’s base. His sudden appearance startles the two, making Grian’s feathers fluff up when he looks over at Joel. “Quit your snogging and let’s go fight the dragon already!” he exclaims, impatience lacing his words. Turning around, he calls out, “You owe me five diamonds Jim!”

Jimmy yells something in reply, but Grian doesn’t care to hear it. He looks back at Scar, who’s snickering. “Guess that’s our cue.”

Scar wildly grins, “Let’s go show this dragon who’s boss.”

[hazel-tanthamore22]

Jealous

Sophia lafortaza x katseye!6thmember!freader

Sypnosis: You had gotten a new hair style, now to sophia, it felt like the world was against her and everyone wanted you

Warning: a lot of jealousy, sophia is possessive as hell, swearing, Anything else I might miss

You had gone out a few hours ago, not telling anyone where or to do what. It caused you to receive some rather questioning looks but no one really liked into it, soon going back to doing their own things as you exited the kats dorm, telling them you'll be back by nightfall.

You got back relatively early, earlier than even you expected. You twist the keys and step in the house, silence engulfing the living room before you even close the door. All six other members staring, reactions kind of hard ro make out, except for Manon and Dani who's Jaws are basically on the floor.

You'd come back home with a platinum blonde wolf cut. You chuckled a bit nervously as you close the door and walk further into the house.

"OH MY GOOOD you look soo good" Dani practically squells as she rises from her spot on the couch and runs to you, fingers threading through your hair as she inspects it. Everyone but Sophia soon follows, bombarding you with questions and compliments.

Your eyes drift and meet Sophia's despite everyone else's attention being on you. Her face is neutral but there's a flicker of something else in her eyes, something you can't quite pinpoint.

The girls hover around you like, as Sophia would describe it, moths attracted to light. They stay close the rest of the day, touching you hair in every living moment the get the chance. Manon even took some pictures and posted them on weverse and Instagram

The fans, as always, were going feral. This is normal for all of them, but for some reason, Sophia didn't like it one bit. You got new hair so what? Sure you look very good right, very, very good but didn't give everyone the right to fawn over you like that.

And the next few days proved to be even worse. You gained more traction and that just meant more thirsty comments and fans shipping you with anything that breathes.

Sophia hasn't spoken about it, and hod forbid she does. She's always praised herself for not being the jealous one, so if she expresses her feelings for this shel never hear the end of it.

Anytime one of the members commented on your hair, she felt like telling them to get their hands off you. Whenever a stylist spent too long "fixing" you hair she wanted to curse them out, but she kept herself and her temper in check.

Buy today it was different. You guys had just finished a music bank performance and were with Jaehyun and Eunchae who were mcing.

You and Eunchae were close due to you being onlyva year older than her. "So n/n, you have new hair now, it looks nice" She says with her cheeky smile. "Thanks eunchae-yah" replying with a smile that mirrored hers was probably a mistake. Because that's what led to you being dragged to Sophia's dressing room after the recording was done.

"What the hell was that?" Sophia asks, her voiced laced with venom as she stares at you. "What was what?" You ask clueless, you've never seen Sophia like this, it's scary, hot, but very scary.

"Fucking flirting with other idols now that you have new hair" She almost yells, keeping herself calm, just slightly. That's when it clicked for you, she was jealous.

You walk closer to her, placing your hands on either side of her waist. "Soph, baby, are you jealous?" You ask, searching her face for any underlying emotions. "Jealous" she scoffs "don't get too full of yourself" she huffs with her arms crossed, eyes looking everywhere but you

You place a gentle kiss to her lips, which causes her to look back at you. "Sophia, you do know I love only you right" you state with a soft smile. "I like no one else bit you ok?" You pause, making sure she understands the deepness of your words "I'll tell the girls to stop touching my hair so much if it'll appease you" you search her face, looking for any hint of anger left.

Her face softens, tho having a small pout as she nods. You smile in responds, placing another lingering kiss on her lips. "I love you ok? No one can change that." You whisper with your forehead resting on hers.

The trip back to the dorm was peaceful, holding Sophia's hand while she rests her head on your shoulder was the best outcome you could've asked for after her previous feelings. And unluckily for Sophia, yoonchae had been eavesdropping and told all the members.

The next few days were filled with teasing but Sophia didn't mind for the most part, the girls stopped touching you a lot and fans soon calmed down on the swooning. She could be jealous but you love her either way, and you would make sure she knew that she was the only one you'll love.

[thedailydescent]

Thank you for being civil in your reply; that is rare to see on here.

While the examples you have provided have definitely happened, and you have full right to do what you want with your money, if you have suspicions but not definite proof to back them, you should not be reporting fundraisers or encouraging everyone not to donate. If there's even a possibility you could be hurting a family's chance of survival, just ignore and move on! Turn off your dms to people you don't follow if necessary. Gazans have a hard enough time as it is. English is not their first language and they are being forced to use a platform they are not familiar with, liking using google translate or a copy-paste template, which looks awkward but that's what they have to contend with. That's what the actual Gaza vetters on here are there to do- they speak the language and can translate for you.

Don't use someone's post to give examples of when you have been previously scammed either. Make your own post if you want to do that. $16,000 is also not enough to live on for a family, especially one in Gaza. In Gaza, not only is there is a gofundme transfer fee, there is also the commission fee they have to pay in Gaza to withdraw money from the bank, which can be as high as 30%. So if they are withdrawing $100, they'll only get $70 of it. And this is on top of the extortionate grocery prices. $200 for a bag of flour, and it might not even be good.

I am not familiar if Issa Amash is hosting 6 families include Yahya's or not. But just fyi when transferring the Arabic spelling of a name to English, the results can vary. Issa Amash could have different abbreviations of the same name. There could be more than one Issa Amash. It's just something to keep in mind.

No donations for more than 9 days 🚨🇵🇸

Please don't stop supporting my family. We still need you so that I can rebuild my destroyed home, treat my baby Mira outside Gaza, and live a decent life for me and my children.

And to compensate them for all the pain they suffered in the war

I still live in tents in cold weather It was a very rainy night. The tents of most people living in tents were flooded ❄️⛺️

Please donate to us 🙏❄️⛺️

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #110 )

[midnight-mourning]

Let Me Love You

Hi @spineapplestudios!! I was your Secret Valentine this year!!! I wrote you a little hurt/comfort piece with Sun hehe, I hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 2391

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

You wring your hands, checking the time once again.

The clock reads 3:03 am. Late. Far too late. 

When things took this long, it was never good. Not in the slightest. It meant that things had went wrong, one way or another. But you had no way of knowing for sure until they got back. Stuck simply lying—or in this case, sitting or pacing—awake until someone walked through the door. 

You knew they were capable, knew they could handle most any threat thrown their way. But that didn't stop the worry from sinking into you all the same. Holding a vice grip of dread around your heart as you listened to the 'tick, tick, tick' of the wall clock. 

Maybe you should have argued more this time. Made your case again for how and why you could be of help. Sure, you weren't strong in that regard. Not like them. 

Merely human, no abilities or powers, weaker, certainly, without a doubt. But that didn't mean you weren't capable. That didn't mean you couldn't try, couldn't fight your hardest, your best, in the ways that you could contribute. 

You were smart, quick on your feet, good in stressful situations. Your first aid skills weren't terrible either. You could help! And if he would let you train and learn to fight or at least more than just basic defense, surely then you'd stand a decent chance. 

"Not fast enough, love." Sun would say, wooden blade hitting against yours, pushing down to force you to almost kneel from his strength. "Not strong enough. One wrong move is all it takes. It's not worth the risk."

You think that if he actually trained you, instead of throwing you to the wolves immediately that maybe you wouldn't crumple like a sack of potatoes at every blow, but that was just your opinion. 

However, everytime you tried to bring it up, it only ended in another argument. Words thrown around that shouldn't be, regrets sinking in with each and every blow. You, weren't great for each other in that regard. Feeding off each other's worst traits in a situation where you should be trying to negate them. 

Maybe that's why he outright refused to let you help, you two weren't—admittedly—the best when it came to that kind of communication. And if you couldn't agree off the battlefield, it wasn't a good sign for when you were on it. 

That didn't mean you wouldn't try, though. You'd do anything to just be given a chance to show that you could help. Just one chance. 

The door creaks open then, pulling you from your clouded thoughts. 

Sun trudges in, slight stumble to his steps. The door shutting behind him with a muted click. 

He looks up, eyes locking with yours, widened in surprise upon seeing you still up. "I, love, why are you awake?"

"As if I could even think about sleeping." You tsk, then notice the way he's clutching his side. "Wait, are you okay? What happened? Is everyone alright?"

You hurry over to him, fretting, unsure what to do. 

He waves you off, moving past you to collapse onto the couch, sitting back with a heaved sigh. "Just a knick. I'll live. Go to bed."

"I, you can't be serious." You shake your head, trying to keep your anger under check. 

Sun pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "Please, not now. I can't tonight. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, alright?"

You bite your cheek, frustration going from a simmer to almost boiling over. There's so much you want to say. How it's not fair to just toss you away, especially when he's hurting like this. How that's not how love works, it's a two-way street, and yet, he never lets you give him that, you realize. 

It's always him appreciating you, cherishing you. Showing you how much he cares, but the moment you try and offer the same, he shuts down, shuts you out. You've never understood it, and despite your efforts in trying to find out why, you've yet to succeed.

But, that's a discussion for another time. Calling him out from his walls won't stop him from bleeding out. 

You head over to under the sink, grabbing the first aid kit and walking back over to him. You kneel on the ground, setting the kit on the couch beside him.

"I said—"

"I know what you said." You interject. "I know. But I don't care. You're just going to have to deal with it."

You ignore the noise he makes in response, opening up the kit and searching through for the supplies you need. 

Bot medical supplies and human weren't so different, you'd quickly found out once they'd become part of your day to day. They could still get hurt, still suffer just as much. Still die. 

You shake the thought off, grabbing the gauze and turning back to nod at him. "Shirt off."

"Gladly." He purrs, starting to lift it off and remove it.

You tsk. "Stop that."

"Oh, but you make it so,"—he coughs, groaning as he finally gets the clothing off, throwing it away in agitation, another cough—"Inticing."

You repress the eye roll you want to give him. Instead leaning in to inspect the damage a bit closer, Just a slice, across the equivalent of his rib cage. Not deep, only on the surface, but still an issue all the same. You search around for something to  soak up what's there, and Sun offers his shirt. 

You raise a brow. He shrugs. "It's ruined anyway, might as well put it to good use."

You take it, wiping away the oil and staining the shirt in the process.

Quiet as you work, cleaning and bandaging the wound. 

"I could have sewed it for you, if you wanted." You say. 

A click. "I wouldn't ask that of you."

"Why not? Why wouldn't you?" You ask. "You never—" You hold your tongue. 

A hand on your cheek, guiding you to look up at him. "Never what?"

"I want to take care of you. Help you. You, you never let me. And it's not fair. Do you know how badly I want to? Do you know how much it aches that I feel like I can't do anything for you?" You lean into his touch, taking hold of his hand to make sure he doesn't pull away, retreat. That he listens to you. "I just, you do so much, for me, for Dazzle, for everyone. Why can't you let that favor be returned? Just, let me. For once. Please."

As you speak—beg, really—Sun's grip on your cheek tightens. Glancing up to him you can see the confliction in his eyes. Something he doesn't let slip often. Only in moments like this, late nights like this. Or if he's not sober, but you know that's not the case at the moment. 

When he starts to let you go you panic. But he hushes you, patting beside himself on the couch. It clicks, and you nod, standing up. 

Before you can sit down however, he takes hold of your waist, pulling you into his lap. You yelp quietly, and he shushes you again, chuckling softly. You huff, cheeks burning as his arms wrap around you, burying his head into the crook between your neck and shoulder. 

He kisses you there, once, twice. You clear your throat, as much as you'd like to turn this into something else, you spilled far too much of your heart out for such. But, unfortunately, he doesn't take the hint. 

He keeps going, urgent, desperate. And all it does is reignite your initial anger. 

"Stop, stop, that's enough!" You push your hands into his chest, forcing him to stop. 

He meets your gaze, confusion in his expression and it puts you over the edge. 

You shake your head, cheeks burning in rage. "You can't just fix everything by distracting me, Sun. That's not how this is supposed to work. That's not how we're supposed to work. I just, did you even listen to a word I just said?"

"I, of course I did but—"

"But what? Why is it so hard to get through to you that I feel like nothing compared to you!?" Your voice raises louder than you meant it to. 

He takes a moment, then a sneer appears on his features. "Oh, don't kid yourself you and I both know that's not true."

"I, you think I'm joking? You think I'm not dead serious?" 

"It's a ridiculous notion. I'm not buying into it." He waves his hand, flippant. 

Your hands grip your head teeth gritted and tears pricking your eyes. "Sun, I feel like a parasite. Leeching off you and everything you give me. And while that might be the ideal relationship for you, it's fucking not for me."

The tears flow freely now, you let them. You sit there, in his lap at past 3 in the morning. crying like a baby. You just, you love him so, so much, but he just. won't. let. you. 

"Why can't you let me love you?" You sniffle out. "That's all I want. Just please, please let me love you. I can't say it anymore than this. This is all I have."

He hugs you then, tight, close as you can get. You can just barely make out murmured apologies against your shoulder. You can't tell if it makes your sniffling better or worse. 

Sun sighs, pulling back to look at you. His hand comes up to hold your chin wiping away a tear. His thumb pressing against your lips, as he shakes his head. "You know I love you, right?"

You nod. "I do. But do you know I love you too?"

"Of course I do." He's worried now, sitting forward. "I know, but I need to—"

You put your hand over his mouth, frown ever present on your face. "You give too much. To everyone. It's going to kill you one day, Sun."

Quiet. You wait for another smart quip, but it doesn't happen. 

"Do you think?" He asks, voice so small in that moment. 

It gives you pause, so you speak just as soft, gentle, encouraging. "I know how much you care. I really, really do. And I know how much you want to keep everyone safe, do your job, and so on. But you're only one man, Sun." 

Your thumb traces over his cheek, gaze focused on the twitch of his lips as he takes in your words. 

"It's... Hard. To set a limit. To find that point and draw the line. Because what if, when I do that, someone gets hurt? What if it's not enough? What if—" He cuts himself off, turmoil evident in his gaze. 

You press your lips to his then, pulling away after a moment. Though you don't ignore how he tries to follow after you. "You can't do everything, love. You, you can't save everyone."

His eyes widen then, but then he sighs. 

"I, I suppose you're right." He looks away from you then, but leans further into your touch. "That doesn't make it right, though."

You shake your head. "No, it doesn't."

You shift your grip then, hand moving to one of his rays, tracing patterns there. He groans, pressing against your hand, so you lift your other one to further your efforts. He practically melts into your touch. 

You continue your ministrations, and while you're at it, hum a quiet tune. You see the stress, the frustration, the conflict, disappear from him bit by bit. You feel it leave yourself as well. 

"You're quite good at this. Have a told you that before?" Sun questions, head now resting on your shoulder once more as you trace and press into his shoulders and back with your fingers. 

You chuckle. "A few times. Though, you seem to forget whenever I offer when we're not fighting."

"We do that a lot, don't we?" He mutters. "I'm sorry."

You click your tongue. "Takes two to tango, you know. I'm just as much at fault."

"Two to tango yes, but when one is dancing on the cliff's edge it doesn't help."

You scoff, but he continues. 

"I just, it's hard to give my trust to just anyone. I think you've noticed that by now. And it's not that I don't trust you it's just, I don't trust others. Or myself, for that matter." His hands, which had been resting on your waist, squeeze you slightly. "The others, I have to let it go and assume they'll be safe. Dazzle, I'm still working on it, I'll admit it. But you..." He trails off, grip not easing up in the slightest. 

You huff. "I know. I'm not fast enough. Not strong enough. I get it—" You're cut off by a smashing of his lips to yours, and he keeps you in place by moving his hands to hold you against him. You finally have to tap his shoulder to get him to pull away, gasping for breath for a moment. 

"It's not that at all." Sun shakes his head. "Not in the slightest bit. I never should have said that, done that. You just wanted to learn and I—I was afraid. And I let that fear get the better of me, took it out on you, when you're the one I want to protect."

His hands slip from your face then. 

"And I know, I know that you can protect yourself. You've proven that time and time again. You're brave, selfless, grounding, you keep me sane, truly. But I can't help but worry about what would happen if I lost you."

"You wouldn't lose me." You wrap your arms around his neck. "I'm much too stubborn to die."

Sun looks up to you. Then, he laughs, a full-bodied, true laugh. The likes of which you haven't heard in some time from him. 

He kisses you again, just a peck this time. 

"I suppose that's true, you are."

You chuckle, leaning your forehead against his.

Another pause. 

"I'll work on being more... open, to your help. And your touch. And you love." With each sentence he punctuate it with another kiss. "I promise."

You sigh, giggling. "I promise I'll be more open to you acting like a guard dog. Sometimes."

"Sometimes is enough."

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

Hope you enjoyed Spine! And that you had a wonderful Valentine's ^^

Adding the tag list since it's writing stuff

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3

[pumpkinsy0]

PaperCut valentines day hcs!!! wooooooo

•their whole valentines is like that one “VICTOR U ACTUALLY DID THIS” video LMAOOOO

•angela would get a LOT of gifts on valentines day from different ppl and she was feeling extra nice she gave some of her stuff to curly and he would mess up the flowers, eat the chocolates that sorta thing. but after getting w pony he just took those things and gave it to pony, way to save money!!! angela find out and bc shes petty, she gave curly the stuff that had her name on it, but that didnt annoy pony so ha, jokes on her

•just bc curly and pony got a valentines now, dont mean that they’re randomly wishing the best on other couples, ESPECIALLY curly, they go to the valentines secrion of stores and hide somethings to make it seem like its sold out and mess w the teddy bears to make them do inappropriate things, maybe leave some signs that

•tbh most pony can do for curly on valentines is cook for him like the good little malewife he was made to be while curly watches him w his feet up, or if curlys not there swatting everyone elses hands away from the food he plans to give to curly

•curly paid a friend 10 bucks to dress like cupid, diapers, bow and arrow, sashel, the whole deal, and follow him and pony while they were on a date. freaked pony theeeee hell out, he wanted no part in that bs

•pony plays into the corniness of valentines day and to what curly makes fun of him about, and makes purposely very corny poems about curly

•their first valentines together, pony didnt do anything for curly, which he felt bad for seeing that curly got him at least chocolates, he didnt think curly was the type so he didnt bother😭😭, curly doesnt let him live it down, every valentines day he brings it up

•id like to think that curly spent time shaping his afro into the shape of a heart but after pony saw it, curly fixed it back to its normal shape out of embarrassment

•let a diner allow for couples to eat for free if they kiss in front of a worker for longer than 5 seconds, pony and curly r making OUT!!!! RIGHT THERE!!!!!!! slip in tongue or something for extra measure, those heart shaped burgers will b THEIRS

•valentines is one of the only days pony actually calls curly pet names, nothin too crazy but babe and if hes feelin risqué, baby, curlys reveling in it

•one of the bday months i could see curly having is february, bonus points if the day is closer to valentines, curly gets all prissy w pony and pony in an odd way is into it, what weirdos🙄🙄

•despite being able to somewhat speak it, curly thinks french is a gay ass language, however bc its seen as “the language of love” to some ppl, he dusts off the part of his brain that remembers it and speaks the most french hes ever spoken since moving to the us and hits on pony w it. but like i said, his french is rusty, ik he messes up his sentences sometimes n calls pony things he dont mean to say

•each valentines day chances r if u look well enough, ur gonna see pony and curlys initials carved into a new place, they got no shame!!!

•curly will pick flowers from ppls neighborhoods to use as a bouquet to give to pony, pony always keeps a flower or a flower part to use as a bookmark, till it rots more and more just wilting away

•pony spends an embarrassing amount of time making sure he looks good on valentines day, he feels like such a girl he hates it so bad but cant help it😭curly calls pony his doll bc of it

•valentines double date is a no go for them, they would rather die than let anyone know what the do for each other on valentines, its so awkward

•curly and pony prolly use the hellllll out of their older brothers cologne, only difference is darry thinks its cute and doesnt mind, tim will throw a fit over it, mf just take a shower and do ONE SPRITS

[6rookie-writer0110]

Same love, new moments

Adriana Lima x Male Reader

Request - Reader performs at the Victoria Secret(VS) shows from 2013-2018, During this time Reader and Adriana get closer, they have great chemisty during the shows and subtly flirt while performing (Singing and Model walking), Adriana gets files for separation from her current husband in 2014 which is completed in 2016, Reader and Adriana get into a relationship in 2014 (Reader continues singing at VS shows this time Adriana and Reader have fun while flirting and performing).

Year- 2013

You arrived at the Victoria's Secret fashion show in New York, with your band. You come out of your dressing room while walking lost in your thoughts, someone comes up behind you and touches your ribs making you jump and you turn around fast.

“Adriana!” You said out loud

She is laughing

“I scared you, Y/N” Adriana smiled

“No, you didn't. I wasn't scared” You said

She gives you a hug and she doesn't stop giggling.

“I’m happy you are back to perform, Y/N. What song are you going to sing?” Adriana said

“It’s a new song called ‘Stay the Night’ I think you will like the new song. Sorry, I didn't call you back two days ago I was busy working on the song, when I wanted to call it was late” You said

“It’s fine, Y/N. I understand that you are busy with music” Adriana said

“Are you okay? I saw the rumors online” You said

“t’s true, he cheated,” Adriana said sadly

“You don't deserve that. If you want to talk about it I'm here for you, Adriana” You said

“Thank you,” Adriana said

You give her a tight hug and she sighed, then you rub her back gently. After the hug, she went to get ready and you were happy to see her. You only said yes to perform just to see Adriana. You and Adriana are good friends but you are in love with her, but she is married and she would never cheat. You haven't told her how you feel because she is married, you always wish she was single. You have written many songs and it's all about her, but she doesn't know.

Everything is ready for the show and Adriana is ready. Your band got on the stage and the models stand in line waiting for their cue. The band starts to play the new song, then you start to sing and the crowd likes the new song. Adriana is starting to like the new song and she starts to smile. Two models went on stage, you winked at them then moved closer to the edge of the stage and kept singing. The crowd is cheering for you and the band, now Adriana goes on then head to the middle of the stage.

You and Adriana are smiling at each other, you grab her hand. You keep singing to her then you spin her around and she winks at you. You get flirty with her then she heads backstage and you start to sing the next song. Adriana’s friends noticted how flirty you were with her

“He is in love with you,” Lily said

“He isn't in love with me. He sings like that to all the models” Adriana said

“You are blind. He doesn't sing like that to every model, the way he looks at you is only for you. If you were single, you should give him a chance” Lily smiled

Lily and Adriana start to change outfits. More models head to the stage and you start to sing another song. Again, you were flirty with Adriana and everyone could see the chemistry.

After the show… you and your friends got invited to a party the party is held in an expensive condo. You are talking to few people then you take pictures with a few friends. Adriana is at the party and she is smiling at you

“Y/N, I really liked the new song” Adriana smiled

“I’m glad you liked it. You looked amazing like always” You said

You didn't care about anyone else at the party, all your focus was on her. You and Adriana managed to sneak away and head to the balcony.

“I thought you weren't coming to the party,” You said

“I got into a fight with Marko. I didn't want to be home and I knew you would be here so I came to the party” Adriana said

“We can go somewhere else if you don't want to be here,” You said

“I don't want to be here,” Adriana said

“Let’s go,” You said

She leaves the party with in a yellow cab. You have an apartment in Soho, you take her to your place. You live alone and she looks around and its a little bit messy due to the boxes and guitars.

“Sorry about the mess, I didn't have time to clean,” You said

“It’s okay. Your girlfriend won't mind that I’m here?” Adriana said

“I been single for two years now. I mostly been focusing on new songs” You said

“I always wanted to learn how to play guitar” Adriana said

“I can show you. Come here” You said

She followed you to the living room, you gave her your favorite guitar. She sits on the couch and you show her how to hold it. Next, you show her how to create a cord. She does try and you tell her how to move your fingers.

A bit later, you made tea for her. She starts to vent to you about her marriage, you want to confess your love to her but now it's not a good time. After a while of talking, she asked questions about your music. You and Adriana just started to talk random stuff and she feels comfortable talking to you.

———

Year; 2014

Adriana is happy that you will get to perform again for the Victoria’s Secret fashion show. She is in New York and she is heading to your apartment and she wanted to surprise you. Before she knocked on the door, you opened the door and there was a women behind you. You said bye to her, she hugged you then she left.

“ Adriana, hi” You smiled

“I wanted to see you but seems you are busy,” Adriana said

“I’m not busy now but come in,” You said

She follows you into the apartment.

“Was that your girlfriend?” Adriana asked

“No. She is just a friend and she has a girlfriend already which I met before. So, what you want to tell me” You said

“I don't want to be with Marko. I filed for legal separation, I know the marriage can't be saved anymore because I’m not in love with him anymore and he has already a girlfriend” Adriana said

“You and your daughters desvrse to be happy. It won't be easy to officially be divorced” You said

“I know, Y/N. But I know you will be there for me. I’m not sad that I won't be married to him. I’m happy that you will perform at the fashion show” Adriana said

“I was surprised they asked and we said yes” You smiled

You ask questions about her daughters and she likes that you care about them also. You haven't met her daughters but she does talk about them to you.

A few days later…

You are performing at the fashion show again. The band is playing and you started to sing now the models are starting to come out. The crowd is starting to cheer louder for you and the models. Now, Adriana walks out and she grabs your hand. You walk alongside her, and she is smiling at you. You keep singing to her then she blows a kiss at you. She walks away and you keep singing then she goes backstage to change outfits. You play a final song and Adriana sings along to the song.

After your performance, Adriana went to see you in your dressing room.

“I wanted to say that you were amazing and I loved the song” Adriana smiled

“Thanks. The song was about you, Adriana” You said

“I know. The models said you don't look at them with heart eyes, just to me” Adriana said

“I didn't say anything because you were married and I know you are not the type to cheat,” You said

“I like you, Y/N. I thought you were dating that women from your apartment and I was a little jealous,” Adriana said

“Oh. She isn't into men and she was teaching me how to speak Portuguese” You said

“You are learning Portuguese?” Adriana asked in shock

“Still learning, I just learned the basics. I wanted to learn to impress you-”

She grabbed your shirt, then you felt her tongue going inside your mouth. You start to kiss her back and you put your arms around her waist.

✫ ✬ ✫ ✬

You wanted to take her to a fancy restaurant but paparazzi would ruin it. Instead you invited her to your apartment, and she arrived wearing a beautiful dress.

“You look beautiful, Adriana,” You said

“Thank you, Y/N” Adriana smiled

She kissed you on the cheek and you don't stop smiling.

“I know you are going through your divorce and I don't want the paparazzi to get the wrong idea. So… but instead we will have dinner here” You said

You didn't want Marko’s lawyer to label her as a cheater or a whore.

“That is nice of you to do that. I didn't know you could cook” Adriana said

“My mom taught me how to cook, she used to date a chef and she learned some stuff. Follow me” You said

You grab her hand and she follows you to the roof. You look at her and she gasped

“Oh my god, Y/N”

“Do you like it?” You asked

You decorated the roof with lights, flowers, a table with a candle in the middle and you grabbed the rose.

“I love it, Y/N. This is like in the movies” Adriana smiled

“This rose is for you,” You said

She gives a peck on the lips then she grabs the rose. She smelled the rose and she didn't stop smiling. You take her to the table and you uncover the food, she sits down then you sit down.

“To our official first date,” You said

“Yes, to our first date and more to come” Adriana smiled

“Yes,” You said

You and Adriana start to eat the food, she likes it. You and Adriana start to talk about movies and then random topics. After dinner, you and Adriana stand by the edge of the roof and watch the fireworks. You have your arm around her waist and she moves closer.

“I’m glad to be here with you” Adriana said

“I feel the same way and I don't want anyone else,” You said

You and Adriana stare into each other eyes. You kiss her on the lips and she starts to kiss you back.

The relationship is a secret. She is still going through the divorce with Marko, you wish the process would go fast. You met Adriana at the park, she wanted you to meet her daughters. You are feeling nervous because you don't want to screw it up.

She can see that you are trying. You started to ask them what stuff they like and they started to talk to you.

——-

Year: 2016.

Adriana has been officially divorced in 2015. You and Adriana are still dating and the relationship is a secret. She is happy that her daughters like you and you always show that you care about them. You and Adriana are madly in love and she only wants to be with you. She has been teaching you how to speak Portuguese, some words are to pronounce but you don't stop.

Again, you are performing at the fashion show. But it's going to be different and you are freaking out. You are singing along with Taylor Swift on stage and your band knows what you are going to do. They always supported the relationship. You and Taylor keep singing, now the models are coming out. When Adriana comes out, you grab her hand and you two are walking together then you stopped her in the middle of the stage. You take out the ring and the music stopped and Adriana is confused about what is going on, you grab her hand.

“Adriana, I love you. You are the only woman I want and you are the only one who has my heart. I want to be there for you and your daughters no matter what. Will you marry me, Adriana Lima?” You asked

Your heart feels like it will rip out of your chest. Everyone is speechless and everyone is waiting for her answer. Nobody knew that you were her boyfriend.

“Oh, I love you so much Y/N and I want to marry you,” Adriana said

She nods and you out the ring on her finger. Everyone started to cheer for you and Adriana, then you stood up and kissed her on the lips. She is hugging you tight and your friends are happy.

✫ ✬ ✫ ✬

Year- 2018

You and Adriana are still married and you take care of Adriana and her daughters. You bought a big house with enough space for everyone but Marko still doesn't like you and you don't care about his opinions.

It’s Adriana's final fashion show with Victoria’s secret. Its a bittersweet moment for her and everyone is happy for Adriana.

“Ready?” You asked.

“Yeah. I can't believe this is my final show” Adriana said

“So many memories,” You said

“Yeah, but I'm glad how everything went when I first started then meeting you then you being here for my final show,” Adriana said

You smiled and she kissed on the cheek. You leave and you head to the stage and the music starts to play. You start to sing a new song and first model to come out is Adriana. Everyone started to cheer louder for her and she started to wave at everyone, then she kissed you on the cheek and walked away. More models start to come out they all smile at Adriana, now she starts to change outfits in the back.

The show finished, but you walk out on stage with your wife. She starts to make a speech about her life starting as Victoria’s serect model in 1999. You hold her hand and you listen to her speech and you are happy for her and how her career went.

“I want to thank my husband for always supporting me and be there for me since the beginning. Y/N, thank you. I’m happy they picked you to perform from day one and for my final show” Adriana said

She gives you the microphone

“I’m glad to perform for your final show. I love you and I won't change anything of I had to do it again from the start” You smiled

She hugged you and you gently rubbed her back. You wiped her tears away and she doesn't stop smiling.

———

2025;

You and Adriana are still going strong. She have birth a baby girl two years ago and her daughters are teenagers now. Adriana gave birth to twin boys a month ago, she is feeding the boys in the highchair while looking at family pictures then you walk into the kitchen.

“Hey beautiful” You winked

“Hello, handsome. Just came back from shopping?” Adriana said

“Yeah, they got new clothes and sneakers and also I bought new toys,” You said

“Y/N, she has enough toys” Adriana said

“I know but you know her puppy eyes are my weakness,” You said

She giggled then you sat next to her. Then your two duagther runs up to you and Adriana, you picked her up and put her on your lap.

“You were looking at the family pictures?” You asked

“Yes. Remember this picture where we went to Brazil and my family thought you didn't know how to speak Portuguese” Adriana giggled

“Yeah, I remember. Their reaction was funny when i started speaking Portuguese, that was a fun time” You said

She nods then she shows you more pictures. One the twin boys started to cry, you held him and gently patted his back. Your daughter starts to play with her new toy and Adriana while the boys face with a napkin.

Much later, you teach Adriana’s daughters how to drive. They are happy about learning how to drive. You are teaching how to drive in your Range Rover. Adriana stayed home to play with her babies in the living room and she is teaching her duagther how to speak Portuguese.

[cod-thoughts]

Proclaim eternal victory

Word count: 1.1k

Relationships: GazRoach, Gaz/Roach

Tags: love confession (kind of), first kiss, competitive Roach

Part of a project that has a tiny explanation here. Keep reading under the cut!!

AN: Happy valentines day @hexxedghost!! I actually really struggled to write something for you cause you like so many things but I did include Roach cause i just had to. Its how we started talking anyway so it had to be done :D I hope i got their dynamic right, it was fun to write smth a little random like this instead of hurt/comfort pffft. I wish i had the time to write smth horror based though those ideas were so goooood, definitely gonna have to revisit that :O You're always so nice and understanding, your DMs have always been open and a safe space to me and for that i want to thank you, genuinely <33

The rivalry had started as a joke.

Gaz liked to talk. Roach, despite his silence, somehow always had the last word.

It was infuriating.

At first, it had been small things—Roach raising an eyebrow at Gaz’s one-liners, shaking his head with mock disapproval when Gaz made a particularly terrible pun. But then, Roach started using his phone to reply, quick texts flashing on the screen with pinpoint sarcasm, perfectly timed to shut Gaz up before he even had a chance to counter. Sometimes, when he wanted to really drive the point home, he signed. Gaz had been making an effort to learn, but he still missed a lot when Roach signed. It certainly didn’t help that Roach had started deliberately making his signs quicker, more subtle, knowing full well Gaz was struggling to keep up.

It should not have been possible for someone who didn’t speak to be this annoying.

It wasn’t just training, either. Roach had developed an uncanny ability to disrupt Gaz’s focus at the most inopportune times. Briefings, field exercises, even casual downtime—there Roach would be, watching him with that insufferable smirk, typing something at a speed that suggested he had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The worst part? Everyone else was enjoying this.

“You’re a menace,” Gaz muttered after Roach absolutely obliterated him in a training exercise, landing a clean shot before Gaz had even spotted him.

Roach, ever smug, pulled out his phone and held it up: Get good.

Gaz swatted the phone out of his face with a huff, only for Roach to catch it effortlessly, flashing a shit-eating grin before pocketing it.

Soap and Ghost, the ever-present audience to their nonsense, watched on with far too much amusement.

“Y’know, Gaz,” Soap mused, stroking his chin like he was deep in thought, “for someone who’s meant to be the witty bastard on this team, you’re lettin’ Roach run circles round you.”

Gaz rolled his eyes. “I am not letting him do anything.”

Roach, with the worst timing imaginable, sent a single message to his phone. Gaz felt the buzz in his pocket and, with a sinking feeling, pulled it out to read it.

Yeah, but you still can’t keep up.

Gaz turned to glare at Roach, who merely tilted his head with an expression of pure, innocent delight.

“Oh, that’s it—” Gaz began, but then Roach signed something quickly to Ghost. Whatever it was, it sent the normally stoic man into a low chuckle, shaking his head as he walked away.

“What? What did he say?” Gaz demanded, looking between them. Ghost just patted him on the shoulder.

“Nothin’ you need to worry about, mate.”

Gaz turned to Roach, eyes narrowing. “That’s dirty play.”

Roach smirked behind his mask but didn’t deny it.

Fine. Two could play at that game.

The next time Roach got the drop on him in training, Gaz decided to fight dirty. He grinned, wide and slow, and stepped right into Roach’s personal space, leaning in just enough that their noses almost brushed.

Roach, who had been infuriatingly confident up until now, immediately stilled, blinking at him with sharp, surprised eyes. Gaz didn’t miss the way Roach’s fingers twitched by his side, like he was debating stepping back but refused to give in.

Gaz smirked. “What, cat got your tongue?”

Roach’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dangerous in his gaze, but Gaz saw the faintest dusting of pink across his cheekbones and oh, this was brilliant.

Gaz was just about to revel in his small victory when Roach, moving faster than Gaz could react, reached up and flicked him on the forehead.

“Oi—”

Roach pulled out his phone, typed something quickly, and held it up for Gaz to read.

Try harder, pretty boy.

Gaz’s brain short-circuited.

Soap cackled. Ghost actually laughed, which was worse. Gaz was left standing there, ears burning, fists clenched, as Roach just walked away, supremely satisfied with himself.

Gaz seethed.

Alright. Fine. Roach wanted to play this game? He’d show him.

The next few days were war. Gaz spent every moment he could trying to get one up on Roach, but every attempt only seemed to amuse the other man more. Whether it was sparring, training drills, or even meal breaks, Roach found some way to fluster him. He’d smirk behind his mask, tap a quick message, and watch with clear amusement as Gaz gritted his teeth. He started stealing Gaz’s seat at meal times, casually handing him his phone with a text that read mine now before returning to eating like nothing had happened.

Gaz had never wanted to throttle someone more in his life.

It wasn’t fair. Gaz was supposed to be the smooth one. The fast talker. The one who could charm his way out of anything. And yet, every time Roach smirked at him or sent a cheeky message, Gaz felt his stomach do flips.

One evening, when they were walking back from the gym, Gaz decided it was time for revenge. He waited for the perfect moment—Roach, distracted, stretching out his arms, looking smug as ever—and stepped in front of him, blocking his path and guiding him into a slightly more secluded corner. 

Roach quirked an eyebrow, amused, but before he could sign or reach for his phone, Gaz lifted a hand and hooked his fingers under the edge of Roach’s mask.

Roach stilled. His hands didn’t move to stop Gaz, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes—just a moment where he let Gaz decide what happened next.

Slowly, deliberately, Gaz pulled the mask down, revealing Roach’s lips, slightly parted in surprise. Gaz felt his breath hitch at the sight of him, and for once, Roach wasn’t smirking, wasn’t teasing—he was watching Gaz like he was waiting for something.

So Gaz gave it to him.

He leaned in, pressing their lips together in a kiss that was slow, deliberate—less about winning and more about the way Roach melted into it. Roach made a soft, startled sound against his mouth before he kissed back, his fingers curling instinctively into Gaz’s hoodie. Gaz let himself sink into it, into the warmth, the way Roach’s breath hitched when he tilted his head just so.

The world around them blurred. The distant sounds of the base, the ever-present murmur of other soldiers moving about none the wiser to the revelation that Gaz was having right now—it all faded to the feeling of Roach’s lips against his, the way his breath stuttered when Gaz moved just slightly closer.

By the time Gaz pulled back, they were both slightly breathless.

Roach blinked at him, lips red, pupils dark. For the first time ever, he had nothing to say.

Gaz grinned, victorious, his voice smug but warm. “Gotcha.”

Roach’s fingers twitched—half instinct, half hurried—before he pulled out his phone and typed furiously.

Gaz had barely a second to brace himself before Roach turned the screen towards him.

Do it again.

Gaz’s breath hitched.

Oh, he was in so much trouble.

[electricea]

"If you're not having fun with a game, d'you try and return it or see it through to the end to see if it gets any better...? 'Cause, some games are off to a rocky start but get better after a certain point, others just...don't."

Taking the time and effort to continue to persist through a game that you weren't even having that much fun with was undoubtedly something easier said than done, but some people were persistently stubborn like that.

Seeing her frown, he can't help but quietly echo it with one of his own - as if to silently acknowledge the shittiness, but also, what can you do?

"Yeah, I totally get keeping to yourself and being closed off, I think..." He brings a hand to his chin, speaking with a thoughtfulness not typically characteristic to him. "...My guess is maybe a lot of people were never really able to do anything about the ones who were shitty to 'em - and maybe their way of making up for it is being shitty to others...? That or some of 'em actually think it's almost...natural - like someone was shitty to you, so you can be shitty to someone else..."

That was just his own way of thinking, truth be told - and not everyone probably had the same reasons. Maybe some people just liked to be assholes - but this was just his own surmising and guessing.

"Heh, I appreciate that, really - to be honest, if people don't like me or don't want to give me a chance - well, maybe that says more about them than it does about me," He shrugs. "In the meantime, I'd rather focus on cool people - like you!"

"Man, I'd sure like to read through 'em if you don't mind - I usually have a hard time making up my mind on games, so I bet reading your blog would help,"

He was usually indecisive when it came to new video games, often going online to see what the consensus on it was - and while his opinion wasn't wholly shaped by the opinions of others, it did help to know what people were saying about it.

Plus, if she covered a wide variety of games on her blog maybe that would give him the chance to branch out beyond his usual genres, too - after all, few things got him more hyped than reading someone else talking about a game or better yet, watching it!

He nods his head vigorously at her at her remarks about just how cruel the world seemed - he couldn't agree with her more on that - he didn't know why people felt the need to be cruel to others, it just seemed that kindness was becoming a rarity these days.

"I don't get either and all it really does is create a cycle where people feel like they can treat others like crap, 'cause someone treated them like crap - people get closed off and they only look out for themselves,"

Not that there was anything inherently wrong in looking out for yourself but in his experience, it so often seemed to come at the expense of others these days.

"A bit, but that's okay, I don't mind so much..." He shyly tugs at her hair, cheeks flushing in genuine gratitude at her words. "I'm glad you think that - I try my best to just be an approachable guy, you know? I definitely think you're cool - and I bet I'll think that even more once I check out your blog,"

[halinski]

*New show*

Me: i choose this character

*4 seasons later*

Trauma background reveal: abusive family

no one: *is surprised*

[heartorbit]

something something sewing event

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

my mum keeps responding to my covid precautions with “i get it, you’re not ready yet”. like no i just don’t do them anymore. i don’t really need to eat at restaurants or go to crowded places or be in public without an n95. i can watch the movie at home. i can get take out. an n95 is just uncomfortable sometimes but doesn’t stop me from doing anything. i love not getting sick

[imjustaf444keriguess]

I meant ableism towards plurality and systemhood specifically

yeah which is common but that's more from anti-systems fighting against any system. you can be ableist towards plurality and systemhood things, even if the person isn't disordered due to their plurality.

though most the time i see anti endos being ableist is not them being "i don't believe they're scientifically possible", it's more "endogenics are delusional and trying to brainwash others into being fake systems" and such. which would be ableist imo regardless if endogenic systems are real or not.

being plural in the first place is something that is typically not supposed to happen in the human brain.

i disagree. the human brain is already very "diverse" in some ways, and even singlets have "multiple parts" in some ways. IFS is a great example, with the subpersonalities being parts of everyone. the difference in full on systems is the differentiation between those parts and self identification.

if you're someone with DID but don't identify as a system and see yourself as a singular person, you might not relate to plurals and other systems. you might relate more with people who "just" have PTSD, or those who identify as "one".

then there's those who are slightly separated, and then those who identify as entirely separate people. since "selfhood" is a subjective and philosophical concept, you can't exactly prove that one body is "literally 100% actually separate people in the brain", unless you were to give a scientific basis on what a "self" and a "separate person" is.

If it happens then it happens, but there is a good chance that it is likely the result of hinderance in development, which is why it’s important to get it checked to make sure that it’s not affecting you negatively right now and that it won’t affect you negatively in the future.

while i disagree that it's "likely the result of hinderance in development", i do think that if it's affecting you in some way, talking to a therapist or doctor about it is important. even in perfectly "healthy" systems, it might still affect you in ways you don't realize, and even singlets have trouble communicating with others, so getting therapy to make sure you're taking care of yourselves is important. and i do think many systems are also going to be affected by trauma (regardless of if you were formed from it), so going to therapy to deal with that potential issue is good.

as for the second point ad plurality in general, theres still a lot that we don’t know about. Heck I could be wrong about it completely and find out more about how plurality actually existed in history and throughout evolution and how the brain actually develops non traumagenic plurality.

there's quite a bit of research out there, but people in the past would not have used the same language as we do now. some may describe their "Actually Plural" experience as imaginary friends, or spirits, or similar labels that nowadays we see as different (or sometimes "not real" like systems are), but if we look far back into history enough, we'd go into times where they did not even know of DID.

i do think there's more stuff to be researched as well by scientists, but there's also quite a bit out there that likely already exists that we (as in me and you) have not seen/read yet.

(Also on your point on non traumagenic systems relating to CDD systems, if you relate to CDD systems but know that your plurality is fine, then great! We only suggest that you look into it especially if you relate to parts of the CDD systems experience that have nothing to do with alters at all, like dissociation, memory loss, or ptsd episodes, because there could be something else going on)

yeah, do keep in mind why you relate to someone else, and what that could mean. if you think you're endogenic, but then relate to the flashbacks and memory loss, then consider talking to a therapist. maybe in the end you'll still use the endogenic label, but making sure you have the skills to deal with trauma (past and future trauma) is important in times where trauma seems to be the norm and putting yourself in stressful, and sometimes even traumatizing situations is encouraged by many, sadly.

Ive seen non traumagenic systems online claim to have dealt with ableism regarding their plurality and calling anti endos ableist and sometimes it makes me wonder if they even realize what they’re saying.

Let me point out two very important things…

1, anti endos are not ableist, we’re literally trying to defend our disorder because it’s already stigmatized and demonized a lot by social media and having non traumagenic people associate themselves with us in any remote way makes it harder to convince people to take CDD systems seriously. Yes, some anti endos are rude, mean, and sometimes bullies, and thats not right because people shouldn’t be hurting each other, but you need to understand that the level of trauma systems have been through to even get a CDD is severe (in a subjective standpoint since everyone experiences and processes trauma differently), so when we see people who are like us without the bad parts, without the memory loss or the trauma, we see it as a mockery 90% of the time, as something that invalidates our experiences that we didn’t ask for. Not all traumagenic systems have gone through recovery, which means many will carry negative traits and habits that they picked up from their trauma, us included. We have not gone through any sort of recovery yet and we will make mistakes, it’s just how our disorder is at the moment, but it doesn’t excuse our actions and we should be held accountable if we make a mistake. If you are being harassed by anti endos, then walk away and block the person.

You can’t expect CDD systems to be nice to you, especially when a lot of us have dealt with ableism and trauma from non traumagenic systems. It’s the Internet, if you don’t like something, scroll.

2, if your non traumagenic plurality doesn’t hinder your life and make it difficult to live then it’s not a disability. If it’s something you willed into existence and quite literally asked for (talking about willowgenics and tulpas to some extent) then it’s not a disability. And if it does affect your life negatively then it’s something that you should actually get checked because chances are, you’re probably otherwise traumagenic or deal with something else with similar symptoms. There may not be enough research on CDDs and non traumagenic plurality but if it actually is making your life difficult then you need to seek help, because regardless of your origin, plurality is not normal. Humans are not supposed to have multiple parts/alters because our brains are not meant to handle separate parts that way without leaving negative consequences; at most we are supposed to have a 3 dimensional identity that is still one whole and can change and adapt over time, but also shouldn’t affect your memory, your mental health, or impact your life negatively.

Ableism is hate targeted towards disabled people, which can include autistic people, people with ADHD, people in wheelchairs, people who wear glasses or are legally blind, cane users, nonverbal people, people with personality disorders, people with schizophrenia, and of course, people with a CDD. Every single disabled person will tell you that they did not ask for this disability and would rather be normal instead, because like we said, disabilities impact peoples lives negatively.

If you’re someone who genuinely understands the struggles CDD systems face yet also deal with non traumagenic plurality, then you would know when to not overstep and push CDD systems at their limit. You would know to not misuse medical terms which are meant for CDD systems to use. You would know to look into your plurality and see if it is truly non traumagenic or if it’s an actual disorder or a CDD and get treatment, rather than taking no action on it. You would know to stay away from CDD spaces and not invade them.

Plurality is not studied enough, and theres a good chance that there might be an answer to what causes non traumagenic plurality or what it even is, but regardless of what it is, it is definitely not comparable to a CDD. If you relate more with CDD systems than non traumagenic systems, then you really should look into it.

[windcarvedlyre]

I've been following @druidposting's DR2 playthrough on discord and we just had a really good discussion about DR's Closing Arguments. Specifically the way the murderer is depicted as grey and featureless, which until now I found a bit annoying.

In Danganronpa it's repeatedly the case that we don't have the full picture until the talking actually stops- which always goes beyond the end of the trial. We generally vote first and come to understand what the murderer's actual motive was, sometimes filling in important pieces of the timeline in the process, afterwards.

But none of that matters for the killing game because characters' emotions aren't directly relevant to who was the 'blackened'- the only thing that matters to Monokuma- so it comes out afterwards and does nothing to change their execution. It doesn't matter how sympathetic they are (basically everyone) or whether other people share responsibility for the situation (eg. Hanamura, Pekoyama, Momota) or whether they intended to murder at all (Nanami). They objectively pulled the trigger and nothing else matters. Nothing about them as a person matters.

The Closing Argument mechanic might illustrate that problem- literally. They're a dramatic, conclusive summary of the entire case... constructed before the vote even happens, before we know if we're actually right, and they're missing something really important:

The actual perpetrator.

We quite literally don't even begin to see the real person behind the crime, any real exploration of their mental state, anything besides the cold, hard facts of the murder that are necessary to convict them, until the comic finishes and the protagonist makes their final accusation- replacing the grey figure with their real appearance in a shot that's often intensely emotional.

And these comics lack crucial parts of the case's timeline and sometimes important parts of the very scenes they depict that we only find out about afterwards. And those are what we know; characters may die with some pieces of the truth and prevent us from ever learning them. These aren't objective depictions of the murder, they're the protagonist's subjective attempt to connect the facts they have. A join-the-dots portrait of someone with missing dots and no colour.

Even characters' expressions may not match how they truly feel, with the grey placeholder potentially looking way more confident and sinister than they were in reality. Pasting Falter's commentary here since they put it well.

For obvious reasons this could especially be a problem for characters that die before the trial- the ones we never get a post-vote testimony from. DR1 chapter 4 really highlighted that in the way Asahina's huge misinterpretation of Oogami's feelings took up a lot of the post-trial discussion, only for Monokuma to reveal Oogami's real suicide note and recontextualise everything.

It might really be a problem for how Komaeda's depicted in DR2 chapter 5. While he isn't greyed out, we get panel after panel where he's either level-headed or maniacally evil, and even the depictions of his self-torture and death don't humanise him:

But we know that his real feelings were more complicated than that. We have his actual corpse to compare the last page to.

He died afraid.

If we approach the comic as Hinata's mental image of him instead of reality, he died without anyone truly understanding him. He was alarming, very hard to relate to, actively fought against people doing so, ensured even the killer didn't watch him die, and the survivors couldn't begin to understand his motive until a chapter later. The Closing Argument reflects that.

Early in DR1 Togami calls out the rest of his class for judging others by their own standards. However, he, too, is doing this, maybe more so than many other characters; his inability to view other people through anything but the cold, brutal logic of the killing game bites him in the ass in chapter 4. In DR2 chapter 2 voting without a good understanding of Pekoyama's motive or Kuzuryuu's involvement nearly got everyone killed. Komaeda's a walking embodiment of the problems with flattening people into caricatures and not empathising with them, suffered from people doing that back to him, and his case- the Closing Argument for which turned everyone else into grey placeholders- was impossible to solve with objective facts. It was only survivable because the survivors cooperated and one person tried to analyse things the way he would.

The games have always been a critique of the justice system and Japanese society and push us to care about others as individuals, not reduce them to- and judge their right to exist by- something they've done or their net impact on society. There are always consequences when someone neglects to do that, and the above might be yet another way the games explore that theme.

[imminent-danger-came]

I really do hate when people complain about a character trait/writing choice that isn't instantly gratifying (what they wanted) but contributed to the work's ideas and themes as a whole (what the writers wanted). Like idk get with the program man

[al-luviec]

These are going to be very inconsistent ...