#i have two more asks to get through at the time of this post

[salemlunaa]

LETS TALK ABOUT REVISION

ready to rewrite your life?

i used to talk about revision while operating from different beliefs, however i thought it would be great to talk about it now as i get so many asks about the subject.

In actuality, revision is an illusionistic concept. Why is that? because time isn’t real. You are SO powerful that you are imagining a “past” for yourself on the fly, and can sift through “memories” in a matter of seconds. But because we only live in a now moment, those memories are only made real by your awareness. If you were to take your awareness of a certain moment in time, it would cease to exist, until you are to bring it back to life by again putting your awareness on it.

How revision works: I’m going to use the words “train of thought” instead of “past” as the past is really just a train of thought you believe to have happened, all you have is now. There are infinite realities out there, you shift every second to a slightly different one following every decision you make. Let’s say Julia broke up with her boyfriend, that circumstance is being imagined by her, she has a train of thoughts (from finding problems in the relationship, to breaking up with him) which practically tell her she broke up with him.

Although, there is another version of her with another set of thoughts/ “memories” of her and her boyfriend being in a loving relationship. If she regrets the ���decision” of breaking up with her man, she needs to shift her SELF to the person with the train of thoughts that tell her she IS in a relationship with her boyfriend, and because imagination is reality, that’s what will folllow.

A lot of you may use revision for one reason or another, but the main reason that so many seek revision is because they either regret doing something or are in a shitty situation. And i’m going to tell you that revision is just like anything other manifestation meaning: creation is finished. Regret is not a real feeling, it is an imagined feeling, that you generate because you are so fooled by the delusion that decisions are final. Once you see that none of this is real and the past doesn’t matter, you will remove all the regret from your mind,

And i know how regret feels, before coming to terms with who i actually was, it was a feeling that ate me up inside, it’s a horrible feeling, but it is illusionistic, it is only there to solidify the illusion that events and the physical is solid. Which they aren’t.

Please do not be fooled, the past is changeable because there is no past. All you must do is shift to the now version of you that had the desired “past” you wanted. There are people who have revised deaths, diagnoses, fucked up things they did, there’s even a girl on my page sharing a success story about her regret of moving schools, so she simply shifted to a timeline where she never moved! And i have many more dms with successes too, someone who revised their grades when they were a few days away from a parent teacher meeting telling them to repeat the year, one who revised her breakup days before prom. if they can do that why can’t you “revise”? i don’t care what it is. It. Is. Changeable. And that’s because you are everything and You are changeable so ALL is changeable.

✰✰✰✰✰

Another piece of advice is not to look outward for advice. I’m going to give you links to the only revision posts i would recommend!(one two three four five six-probably so much more amazing material, but you don’t need it, stop with the need to over consume). But other than that, a lot of “manifestation coaches” have A LOT of limiting beliefs. For example: “you have to remember that manifestation can’t overrule the law of physics and time”, “changing the past isn’t possible, but you can change how you feel about it” ew…… anyway…..

YOU are god, not them. please do not let their limitations affect you. That’s like the biblical god going to cry in a corner because Moses doubted him. Why are you letting mere humans depict what you can and can’t do? You have the authority, total authority. Which is why i don’t want you to get rattled seeing these beliefs. But wouldn’t the person who has their revised be enjoying life, instead of looking for youtube posts like a junky needing a fix??

To revise all you must do is see beyond the illusion that this life is solid. See beyond the concept that time is set in stone and that time is linear. This circumstance isn’t real, use whatever techniques you like to live from the state of the person who is in the timeline you want to be in (I personally love revising the day using SATS, inducing the void state, visualising and rampages, recently loving robotic affirmations too!)

I hate using the word “delusional” because the only thing that is delusion here is you thinking you can’t do this, but you need to be so far removed from what was, live completely and 100% in your imagination, that’s the only real thing. “But salem, what if i’m living in my head and circumstances still take their course?” If you have to ask me that you aren’t 100% living in the imaginary. And that back and forth, that pathetic attempt at serving two masters is what has you “waiting”. You cannot serve two masters, you are either in your desired timeline, or you’re the loser dealing with circumstances you don’t want, it can never be the two, you have to pick which one you want more.

Also remember that you can never be given things you don’t already have: reality is totally mental, not 50% not 99% but 100% mental, if you still operate from the person who is regretting their life, you aren’t thinking from the state of being in the timeline you wanna be in. You have to know that you have it first, before it can reflect. It will only be hard when you say it is, failure is not a real concept, it’s being imagined by you, remember that. For some of you, your circumstances will slap you right in the face and that is not failure it’s feedback, showing you that you aren’t truly thinking from that version of you.

You are the only person in your way from instantly jumping to your desired timeline. Get rid of that deep belief in time. You are the only reason you have to wake up and deal with unfavourable circumstances again. YOU are the only one that can give it to yourself. And first you have to GIVE IT TO YOURSELF, try to make that make sense. The food is right there but you choose to starve because you are so fooled by the illusion there is no food at the table.

it’s already done, there’s nothing to regret, creation is finished, the second you wanted another outcome a reality was formed. THATS how powerful you are. You are there now.

Shifting to your desired timeline is instantaneous, it will materialise when you finally see there was nothing to do to get there in the first place.

I believe in you, so so so much

[sushirrrry]

READ PART ONE - CASA AMOR - HERE

PART TWO | CRASH OUT || a harry styles x you fic. word count: 4,935 content warning: tension & arguments & love island antics

summary: you and harry were the strongest couple in the villa, until the recoupling after casa amor. now, with some time to talk, you learn more things were happening in casa than what you had seen prior.

author's note: y'all loved this so much (which I did not think you would???) so I just had to write a little something today - this will ultimately be a short series because it's pretty easy to write once you get into it! I have another part that I cut from this one because I figured it's more fun to have more stories to post, so keep an eye out for that <3 I'm trying a few different ways to write it to make it feel like you're watching it but also feel a bit more story-like! also - wrote a character list at the top for your info!

hope you guys enjoy <3

Tonight on Love Island: Here is your breakdown after the recoupling...

You are Single | Luca is Single | Megan is Single | Tash and Harry | Ella and Johnny | Megan and Ronan | Tiana and Liam | Jess and Mitch

{In the Villa}

You go to sit with Luca on one of the low couches near the beanbags, your heels click together as you walk across the pavement. Your knees tucked up beneath you when you sat, a half-empty glass of water balanced between your palms. The night is thick with that strange, quiet buzz that happens when everyone’s pretending that they’re okay.

Luca watches you for a second before going to say anything; he pauses and gives you a reassuring smile.

“Y’alright?” he asks you, making conversation light.

You give him a small smile but nothing more, because you don’t really know how to feel but don’t want to show that to him immediately. “Don’t know really, just feel a bit betrayed.”

He nods in understanding. “Didn’t expect that, you know. Him walking back with her—like I was just under the impression that he was going to test it in Casa, but I figured that you would have had that conversation beforehand, y’know what I mean?”

You shrug, not having anything else to say, “Neither did I—and that’s why I’m fuming, Luca, it’s almost like he was waiting for the opportunity to leave.”

Silence hangs for a moment; you wonder if Luca knows something more, but isn’t saying it, so you allow there to be a space held for that conversation.

Harry and Luca are good mates, but you two have always had an open communication – he’s kind, he’s funny, he’s been choosing girls that aren’t choosing him back so you both feel relatively on the same page at the moment.

Tiana and Luca were coupled prior to Casa, but she had chosen Liam instead – it was for the best, seeming that they were getting along quite better than her and Luca had prior. That left you both single in the villa now, and given a certain opportunity, it may be best to try and explore the connection to make sure that you’re safe.

“I just thought…” Luca hesitates for a moment, shrugging as his arm gets placed around the seat where you’re sitting, “Like, if anyone was gonna make it through Casa, it was you two, so it’s a real twist in the villa now.”

You press your lips together, slowly letting your lower lip press further into your mouth as you start to gnaw on it softly. You know that your lip gloss is being smudged, but you’re not sure that you can just listen to Luca tell you all of the good parts about you and Harry.

You just respond with, “Yeah. Me too.”

“He talked about you a lot before he left, said you grounded him. Said it felt different with you—dunno, obviously he kept choosing you and you kept choosing him.”

You look over, surprised at Luca’s comments and allowing them to settle on you for a moment. “I mean it’s all talk though, isn’t it? He still brought her back.”

Luca nods, taking a sip of his drink before he adds, “I mean, but then… I dunno. Something changed. Tash walked into Casa and it was like—”

He stops himself for a minute, realizing he may have over-spoke. His voice got quiet, and he looked back up at you for a moment.

“Like what?” you ask, though you’re not sure you want the answer. You squint at him softly, trying to act like you don’t need the information that may be withheld. “Go on—I need to know if he’s still not being honest.”

Luca exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Like, I heard him make a comment where he wanted to remind himself that he could still pull, ‘cause I guess you two have been a thing since the beginning and it was just a game to him, or something. To pull Tash.”

“Did he say that?” You ask quickly, almost in awe of the fact that Luca would say that so openly, like he had been holding it in. The words slam into your chest at a frequency you weren’t aware of

Harry acted like what you had wasn’t real — just something to trade in for a quick ego boost and a pretty girl in Casa, which is exactly what he had been doing without you around.  Your hands start to tremble around your glass you had been holding, so you moved it between palms to ensure Luca didn’t see your shake.

Luca clocks the shift in your face, noticing immediately that your disappointment may have turned into a bit of anger now.

“Shit,” he says quickly. “I—I mean I don’t think he did it with bad intentions or anything,”

“No, it’s fine,” you cut in, standing up too fast. “You’re right. It makes sense now.”

Luca seems to have a bit of panic that he spoke far too much, “Hey—”

“I’m gonna pull him and clear some things up.”

You don’t wait for Luca to respond. You feel the walls closing in and you need answers — real ones, not just polite excuses and hollow regret that he tried to express. You find Harry near the outdoor kitchen, talking with Tash, who’s pretending not to glance at you every five seconds.

Your heart’s thudding so hard between your rubs that you barely hear your own voice speak out to him.

“Harry,” you say firmly, giving him a look, “can I pull you for a chat quickly?”

He looks up at you with a bit of surprise crossed over his features, maybe even hopeful, and nods without a word before following you.

He follows you toward the fire pit, where the embers are still burning. You take a seat at the benches and tuck your dress under your knees before you cross your legs and let him settle for a minute before you take in a deep breath before you say what you need to say.

“So, I hear that you had told some people in Casa,” you start, voice calm but breaking beneath, “that you felt different with me. That I grounded you. That what we had was real.”

He nods, a hesitant caution over him as he started to nod a bit in agreement. “Yeah, that’s true, I did.”

“But then I’m also told that you needed some reminder,” you say, looking him straight in the eyes, “why did you need to remind yourself that you could still pull?”

The color drains from his face when you keep speaking with a confidence; his eyes glance quickly away from you which is all that you need to know. You don’t even wait for his answer before continuing.

“Because that’s what you told the boys in Casa, isn’t it? That you walked into Casa, and you let yourself forget everything we had. Just so you could prove you still had game, and that pulling Tash was some kind of game to you. So, is it a connection or is it a game?”

Harry opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He licks over his lips and blinks a few times at the ground before he knits his brows together to try and come to a conclusion, but you can tell… he has nothing else to say.

You shake your head, blinking fast to keep the tears from falling.

“For the record, I was never holding you back, Harry. You didn’t need to pull. You just needed to stay.”

He shakes his head and opens his mouth to speak again, trying to reach for your hand. You pull back almost like his hand was on fire.

“I need to know if this was ever real for you. Or if I was just something steady until someone shinier walked in, because if that’s the case, I’m not even mad—I’m just over it and done.”

Harry’s mouth opens like he wants to argue — like he’s searching for some excuse to protect himself.

“I can understand that what you’re hearing may be hurtful, but that’s not fair,” he says, voice clipped. “You’re twisting it into something different than what it was.”

You blink slowly. “Am I? That’s not what it sounds like from what I’m hearing—unless you’re just lying.”

Harry runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. His jaw is clenched, his chest rising and falling faster and you can tell that he’s trying to make sense of it all.

“I didn’t plan to connect with her, alright? It wasn’t like that. It was just—Casa messes with your head, and I was making a joke about the fact that I hadn’t really pulled girls in the villa since you and I were so strong—it had nothing to do with our connection or the fact that I was bored.”

“Well, you kissed her in the Hideaway,” you say flatly, arms folded across your stomach like you’re trying to hold yourself together. “You don’t just end up there by accident, and I think it sounds a lot more than just pulling for the game.”

He exhales sharply, turning back to you. His voice rises a little.

“I was trying to figure it out! Everyone was telling me to explore, test things. I didn’t want to look like an idiot if you’d cracked on, too, which I know you did.”

You laugh once, short and disbelieving as you squint at him. “So, you did it to protect yourself—called her naughty and trouble.”

He hesitates for a moment; you can tell that he doesn’t want to lie, but doesn’t want to make anything worse, and then, softer: “Yeah. Maybe I did. I don’t think it’s that big of a deal here. I always had the intention of coming back to you here.”

That silence after his words lands like a brick. You look at him, and for a second, just a second, he sees it. The way your lip trembles at his words, and the way that your eyes are glassy with the recognition that he had hurt you. The way you’re so tired of fighting for something he already threw away. You don’t even know if you want to fight for it anymore.

Harry softly closes his eyes as he shakes his head and rests his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t—I’m just sorry. What we had wasn’t made up or fake or whatever—these past weeks weren’t just thrown away.”

You nod once, solidified in his statement with a simple statement of your own. “It might not’ve been fake. But it stopped being real the second you let her kiss you.”

That hits him almost like a bullet, so he breathes in slowly. And something in him starts to fold.

“I didn’t stop thinking about you,” he says, voice is soft to keep it between you both as he shakes his head as if he can’t believe that you’re having this conversation. “Even when I was with her, even when I was doing all that stupid flirting —"

You look at him, and for a moment you’re not angry anymore.

“You knew it would hurt me,” you whisper staring at your hands, “and you did it anyway.”

Harry’s eyes shine. “I know. I know I did. And—and I was selfish.”

“I don’t even know how to be mad anymore,” you murmur, staring at the ground. “I feel stupid. And empty. And I don’t want to cry over someone who didn’t choose me.”

Harry moves towards you on the bench, looking down at you before he lets his shoulders drop.

“I did choose you—I always chose you, but” he says, quietly desperate. “I just… didn’t respect you, and I’m sorry.”

You look at him through blurred eyes, but you can’t let the tears fall because you don’t want to give it more energy than it’s worth anymore. “Then why does it feel like you didn’t?”

He doesn’t have an answer for you, so he looks away with his tail between his legs and wants to speak but decides against it. You press your fingers under your eyes to not ruin your makeup, swallowing a sob as you look away from him.

And neither of you says anything more. Because maybe for the first time since this whole thing began, he understands that he broke something he might not be able to put back together. The silence has stretched too long as you sit there.

Harry is still crouched next to you but keeps a look on his face that he still has more to say, lips parted like he might speak — but he doesn’t. You can feel it by the way that he rubs his palms over his pants and looks away. There’s still something he’s not saying. You blink slowly, jaw tight before you swallow.

“Did you sleep in the same bed as her?”

His eyes flick away for a split second, and that’s all you need. That was the confirmation that you needed.

“Harry,” you say, louder now, standing up. “Did you sleep in bed with her?”

Nothing-- there’s nothing for him to say because he’s not going to lie to you, which makes this feel even worse in the moment.

You let out a sharp breath and shake your head. “Right.”

And then, before he can move or follow or stop you, you stand quickly from your spot on the bench and walk across the patio, heels clicking against the pavement as you make your way back to where a smaller group sits.

The rest of the villa is scattered — Ella and Tiana are on some loungers by the pool, the boys are grouped near the kitchen, and Tash is sitting on the edge of a daybed, twisting her hair around her finger, laughing at something Mitch is saying.

She looks up just in time to see you walking straight for her. The air has a bit of a shift when you realize that the villa is watching you walk to her, angrily away from Harry. Harry starts to follow you when he realizes that you are going towards Tash, he stops in his tracks.

Tash’s smile towards Mitch drops when she sees you approaching.

“Hey,” she says, cautious. You don’t waste time; your time has been wasted enough these past few weeks.

“Did you and Harry sleep in the same bed in Casa?”

The villa goes dead silent, almost like everyone had been waiting for the ball to drop and for you to have some sort of crash out.

Tash blinks, sitting up softly like she’s trying to think about what she needs to say to make her not seem like the bad guy. “What?”

“It’s a simple question, Tash, really—I’m not here to bullshit you or be mad at you because I know you’re just coming into Casa, but I just have to know because while I was making connections in Casa I was being respectful and staying out of other men’s beds because I had already made a connection here, so I just want to know.”

Tash hesitates for a moment, glances past you — toward Harry, who’s now standing with Ella and Johnny near the kitchen. Then she lifts her chin with a confidence that you appreciate.

“Yeah,” she says, a bit meek but you disregard that. “We did—just the last two nights.”

You close your eyes for half a second before you realize that you have nothing to be mad about—he’s not yours anymore, and you don’t want him. The girls react instantly; Mitch looks between the two of you like he was just there to settle if something went down.

“What the fuck,” Ella mutters under her breath. She looks at Harry before he rolls his eyes and exhales like he couldn’t believe that this had become his life.

Mitch whistles, biting on his lip as he runs a hand down his face.

You nod once, like you’ve just confirmed something you already knew, “Cool—I appreciate the honesty.”

Then you turn to walk back to where Harry is standing with Ella and Johnny; Harry’s watching from a few feet away, face pale, jaw set. You meet his eyes with a hurt that you hadn’t really felt before.

“You couldn’t even say it,” you say, voice shaking. “You let her do it for you, you’re such a fucking bullshitter.”

Harry runs a hand through his hair, muttering, “It wasn’t like that.”

You fold your arms, raising your voice at him. “It was exactly like that. You cuddled up with her at night and kissed her in the Hideaway like I wasn’t lying in bed alone thinking about you so you can get your dick up? Fucking prick.”

You can see the guilt and the remorse that crosses his face because he knows exactly what you were referring to; you two had been intimate together, and while it was still Love Island, it still hurt to know that he had decided to lay in another bed with another girl doing who knows what.

But it’s not enough to watch him feel guilty. Instead, you walk back across the villa, past every stunned face, every wide eye, and back to the daybed where Tiana’s already holding a space for you to sit down, where you can keep your shoulders back and your chin high.

You might be heartbroken, but you are not small.

{NARRATOR}

Well, that escalated quickly, didn’t it? One question turned into a full-blown villa bombshell — and it looks like Harry has finally realized what it means to fumble the bag in front of everyone. Looks like the only thing he can pull now is his hair out!

The girls are gathered in the dressing room, the air heavy and quiet with some sort of exhaustion from the sun and complete heartbreak from the fact that this could have happened to any of them. It was just a half-circle of crossed legs, red-rimmed eyes, and half-sipped glasses of water nobody really wanted.

You’re sitting on the edge of a chair, fingers clenched in your lap, hair still half-curled from earlier when you thought tonight might be fun or you might feel better about your connection.

Ella’s next to you; Tiana’s perched on the counter; Jess sits with her back against the vanity; Megan is sat at her vanity space. With another beat, all of you watch as Tash walks in last.

There’s a pause — thick enough to cut. She stands in front of the group, eyes flicking between everyone, but then settling on you.

“Can I sit?” she asks, gently, almost like she was hoping you would just yell at her instead of being nice; it may make her feel less shitty about her experience, but instead you just nod once.

She lowers herself onto the bench across from you, tucking her legs beneath her.

“I just wanna say something, okay? No drama, just… girl to girl,” She looks around at everyone, her voice a bit weary as she starts to speak again.

You don’t respond. You’re staring at the floor, jaw tight, heart pounding at what else she could reveal to you.

“I didn’t come in trying to wreck anything,” Tash continues, “Y’know, I liked Harry. He was flirty, yeah, but he never mentioned you in a way that made it feel closed off—like I knew he was in a connection, but I guess he just flirted with me more than he should have.”

Jess shifts uncomfortably. Tiana shoots a look toward Ella, but no one says anything.

“And I get it now,” Tash says. “I didn’t realize how deep it was with you two. I wouldn’t have gone there if I knew, truly.” She swallows and licks over her lips as she shakes her head. “But I didn’t kiss him thinking I was stealing someone’s boyfriend, you know what I mean?”

Still, you say nothing. The room is quiet as they’re waiting for you to speak.

Tiana shakes her head instead before taking the initiative, “It’s just muggy, innit? Like he knew that was going to humiliate Y/N and did it anyways, you know.”

“I just think the bed thing was mad disrespectful,” Ella says with no disregard, “Like, just knowing the context of it all—I don’t know.”

“I just feel like an idiot,” you say shrugging before you look up at Tash, “It’s fine. It’s not your fault—I get he wanted to test our connection, and he did it.”

You glance around the room, eyes darting like you’re trying to make sense of your own place here.

“I just feel stupid for trusting him so effortlessly. For sleeping alone every night, for saying no to other boys while he was cuddled up with you.”

Ella scoots closer, her hand brushing your back.

“I thought we were solid. I thought we were the couple people looked at and went, ‘Yeah, they’re real.’ And now?” Your voice catches as you start to take your makeup off with a wipe to try and hide the fact that tears are threatening, “I feel like a joke.”

Tash looks genuinely upset by the fact that she could have done something wrong. “You’re not. Honestly, I wouldn’t have—”

“I know,” you cut in, gently but firmly as you look at her. “I know you didn’t do it to hurt me—please don’t take it personally.”

You take a deep breath, but it doesn’t steady you. “It just hurts anyway.”

The girls all stay quiet as they begin to get ready for bed, and they know sometimes silence is safer than platitudes. Jess leans over and grabs a tissue, handing it to you.

“You don’t owe anyone forgiveness tonight,” Ella says softly, almost privately. “Not him. Not her. You just do what you need.” She glances toward Tash who’s started to look through her items to get ready for bed. “And to be fair, she showed up. That means something.”

You nod again, but your voice is barely there now.

“I just need to not feel like I got played.”

Tiana leans over from the counter, “Then don’t – you just need to feel like a girl who gave her heart to someone who didn’t know how to hold it because he’s a lad.”

You press the tissue to your face and smile, just slightly. The first honest thing you’ve felt in hours.

+++

The night’s gone quiet now, most of the girls have disappeared into the dressing room with Y/N when she started to walk off. Tash is nowhere to be seen, either, which gives Harry a bit of anxiety if he’s being honest. The fire pit crackles low in the background.

Harry sits on one of the beanbags, hunched forward, elbows on his knees, palms scrubbing over his face. Luca lounges next to him, arms behind his head, watching him with a slow, almost sympathetic blink.

Mitch and Ronan are there too, passing a bottle of water back and forth. No one says anything at first, the only thing heard is Harry exhaling loudly.

“You alright, bruv?” Luca asks quietly before glancing over at Harry.

Harry doesn’t look up. “No. Not really.”

Ronan whistles low. “Yeah… that was rough.”

Mitch nods, stretching out. “She looked gutted, man. Like properly heartbroken.”

Harry finally sits back, dragging his hands down his face, “I didn’t think it would get that bad—I’m honest to God, I didn’t think that the bed thing would come up.”

Luca shrugs, letting an arm rest behind his head. “I don’t think you were thinking at all.”

That lands to hurt him like a jab, and Harry is silent.

Ronan, trying to soften the blow, leans forward and shakes his head to try and make sense of what Harry did, “Look, Casa was a head-fuck. You get in your own head. Everyone’s buzzing around saying ‘test the connection,’ and you start convincing yourself it’s what you should do—and to be fair, Tash came onto you very strongly.”

Mitch chimes in, “Yeah. Like, I see both sides. You didn’t do anything that loads of lads haven’t done in there. But—”

He glances toward the villa. “It seemed that you had something real with her, like more than that sexual chemistry, you know.”

Harry nods slowly, contemplating what he had in front of him. “I know.”

Luca gestures vaguely. “And Tash? I mean… she’s sound. Not the one you’ve been sleeping next to since day one. Not the one who never cracked on, either.”

Harry’s eyes flick up. “That’s the part that’s killing me, you know? I kept thinking, what if she was moving mad on her end? What if I came back looking like a mug?”

The boys know that there was the potential to have this moment; there had to be communication, and they knew that Harry felt just as guilty, but scared that he was going to come back to Y/N also testing the connection and keeping another guy there.

Ronan spoke up, “Mate, you came back with a girl. You can’t be shocked she’s stepped back at bit.”

Harry slumps back again, rubbing his chest like it physically aches. “I messed it. And now she’s looking at me like she doesn’t even know me.”

Luca shifts, arms crossed. “That’s what happens when you break someone’s trust. You don’t just get to explain it away.”

Harry nods again, slower this time. “I know.”

The boys sit with that for a moment.

Then Ronan, a little softer: “You think you’ll pull her back?”

Harry lets out a shaky breath, “I don’t know. I want to. I’d drop everything with Tash tonight if it meant I could fix it with her. But… I think she’s already gone in her head so I’m like… I don’t want to mess shit up with Tash now if it’s really over for us. Because Tash is mad cool too.”

Mitch leans back, sighing. “Well, if you want to try — you better show her something real. No more flirting, no more excuses. Show her you mean it.”

Harry looks down at his hands, quiet. For once, he doesn’t have a comeback. There’s no jokes or smirks coming from him as he feels the sting in the back of his eyes. He’s just a boy who fumbled the one person who made this villa feel like something more than just a game.

The villa buzz has faded into soft rustling — hairbrushes against tangles, toothbrushes tapping against sinks, and the occasional low whisper between couples slipping under the duvet.

You’re in the dressing room with the girls, wiping off your makeup in silence while Ella hands you a clean face cloth. Tiana squeezes your shoulder on the way to the bedroom, but no one says much.

No one needs to say anything at all to excuse what’s happened and how it continues to move throughout the villa. There’s a dynamic switch that has happened, mostly because the individuals in the villa that saw a light in you both is now gone. The damage has already been done, and there is now a shift in the mood.

Cut to the main bedroom, where the lights are dimmed and the duvets are already turned down when the islanders start to move into the sheets. A few of the couples are climbing into bed, bare legs tangling beneath cool sheets.

Tash walks in quietly after putting on her pajamas and rinsing her face and taking off her makeup, pulling her long hair up into a bun. She pads over to her side of the bed, the bed that her and Harry will ultimately share tonight.

He’s already there, sitting on the edge, shirtless, elbows on knees as he faces away from her. She starts to lift the covers to move into her spot. He gently leans back and gives her a soft look as he rubs his hand down his jaw.

“Don’t take it personally, yeah? I’m gonna sleep alone in the Hideaway tonight.”

Tash blinks, confused at his words before he speaks again.

“Just for tonight. Think it’s better. Out of respect.”

She holds his stare for a second, then nods and doesn’t say anything more. She understand the consequences that sharing a bed tonight could have—also, it starts to affirm that she had come in at the wrong time.

You’re lying on your side, facing the room, back to Ella, eyes half-closed but not sleeping—you feel so exhausted but barely tired at all.

Harry’s sitting at the edge of his bed one minute, hoodie in hand, slides cover his feet as he just stands with a smooth and slow motion. He picks up his water bottle from the floor and walks toward the door. The click of it opening slices through the silence of the main bedroom.

A few heads lift instinctively at the sound, and seeing Harry leave the room without Tash. She covers herself back up in the blankets, but the other islanders watch.

Ella turns slightly in her bed; Luca glances over his shoulder to see the noise; Jess lifts her head halfway, brows furrowed.

Even you look up — just enough to track Harry’s silhouette slipping through the door.

You notice that Tash didn’t follow behind. But once he’s left there’s no awkward whispers or explanations or realizations. But everyone feels it, and no one says a word.

All you know is that he doesn’t want to share a bed with Tash tonight in front of you. The first respectful thing he’s done all night - you could argue.

[fiastomatocheek]

TOO YOUNG TO MATTER

requested: yes | req: angsty request for will smith!! maybe a relationship where the reader is a bit older and will feels anxious about being enough for them. reader babies mack a lot and will gets upset from a combination of insecurity about being younger (ex: “if mack is a baby what am i..”), jealousy of the way reader talks about mack in general (ex: “mack is so grown up now!! he looks so mature), etc and starts avoiding reader instead of talking it out, which makes the reader confused and spend even more time with mack since will is always gone. reader finally confronts will, they fight and spend a day apart but makeup at the end with a cuddle!!

pair: will smith x older f!reader

genre: angst, romance, hurt/comfort, fluff.

warnings: emotional angst, insecurity, jealousy, age gap (implied, not specified), heated argument, brief mention of self-doubt.

summary: you and will have been together for a while now, despite the slight age gap that people love to point out. you’ve always brushed it off, will’s maturity, his heart, his everything has always been enough. but lately, things have shifted. you’re spending more time around mack, your longtime friend, and your casual, affectionate remarks about him don’t go unnoticed. will’s insecurities about his age, about being ‘enough,’ start to eat him alive but instead of talking to you, he pulls away slowly, painfully.

fia’s note: yayyy so happy to be back!! i think i’ll be free until september, so hopefully that means more time to write and (fingers crossed) finally finish all the requests that have been accepted, i’ll also be scrolling through the ask box to see if anything else sparks inspiration so if you’ve sent something before, who knows 👀 as always, please enjoy this fic, and thank you all for being so lovely and patient. love you all sm!!

tagging team fia! — @dancerbailey3 @mashmashi @kell9rs @nokiaholland @macka @smiley-roos @silvenyy @bd147ms @voidvannie @itsonlyaddi @puckinghughes @astrotrilogy @definitelynotdomanique

fia’s masterlist | join fia’s taglist | yap & fic

“I swear Mack grew a foot over the summer,”

You say with a quiet laugh, scrolling through the latest team photo from the summer training camp.

“Look at him, he’s all broad-shouldered and serious now. He looks like a real pro.”

Will doesn’t say anything.

You glance up from your phone. He’s sitting on the other side of your living room couch, hood up, one leg bouncing as he stares blankly at the muted TV.

“Will?”

He blinks and shifts like he just remembered he’s supposed to be present.

“What?”

“I said Mack’s all grown up. Doesn’t he look different?”

He shrugs. “I guess.”

You frown. It’s the third time this week he’s shut down on you mid-conversation. You used to joke that he could talk through a commercial break and still make it back before the show resumed. But now? Every word feels like pulling teeth.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired.”

That’s all he gives you. You study him for a second longer of how he’s been wearing the same shirt for two days, how he hasn’t really smiled at you.

You nod slowly and turn back to your phone.

At first, you blame the season. Early practices, post-training fatigue. But then he stops texting you good morning, he skips your Sunday lunch. When he does come over, he barely touches you anymore like his hands used to live on your waist, his thumb always resting at the curve of your back.

Now he sits beside you like you both are nothing.

You tell yourself not to assume.

But when you vent to Mack about it one afternoon at the rink, you feel Will’s gaze burning into you. He doesn’t say anything, just watches as you playfully nudge Mack’s arm and laugh at something stupid he says.

And then later, when you look for Will? He’s gone.

It keeps happening.

You reach out, he pulls away. You text, he leaves you on read. You joke, he gives you silence.

So you lean on what’s familiar, Mack. He’s easy to talk to, unbothered by your spiraling thoughts. He doesn’t flinch when you ask, ‘Am I hard to be with?’ He just says, ‘You’re not hard. You’re just real. And that scares people sometimes.’

You tell Will where you’re going, every time. But it doesn’t stop the pit from growing in your chest.

One night, you’re curled up on your couch in his hoodie and you check your phone again.

Nothing.

Dinner’s cold.

You’d planned it. Lit candles and everything. Told him to come by after practice. He said he would.

But he didn’t.

You call him. No answer.

You see him the next morning in the player’s lounge. He’s laughing with a teammate like nothing’s wrong.

You snap.

“Will.”

He looks over. His smile falters.

You don’t give him time to pretend. You tug him into an empty hallway, voice shaking.

“What’s going on with you?”

He blinks. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. You’ve been ghosting me for weeks. You bailed on dinner. You don’t talk to me. You barely look at me. So either you’re over this and too cowardly to say it—”

“I’m not over you,” he says, sharp.

“Then what is it?” you demand.

“Because I’m going insane trying to figure it out.”

He runs a hand over his face. “It’s not you.”

“Stop saying that.”

“I’m serious. It’s me, okay? It’s…”

His voice trails off, like he doesn’t know how to say it without sounding pathetic. He looks away.

“It’s the way you talk about Mack.”

“What?”

He exhales like it physically hurts.

“You call him ‘baby Mack,’ and then say he’s grown up, and mature, and strong, and… what am I supposed to be then? If he’s grown up now, if he’s the mature one, and what the hell does that make me?”

You blink, stunned.

Will’s voice a little shakes now. “I know I’m younger than you. I’ve always known. But it’s different when you start sounding like it matters.”

You take a step back. “You really think I see you that way?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters.

“I just know it’s been eating me alive.”

Your eyes sting. “You could’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want to sound insecure.”

“I want your insecurity. I want the messy shit too, Will. That’s what being in a relationship means.”

“I thought I wasn’t enough,” he whispers.

“I thought maybe you were realizing that too.”

The silence between you is unbearable. You look at him, shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets, like he’s bracing for heartbreak.

So you say the only thing you can.

“Then you’re an idiot.”

His eyes flash up to yours.

“I chose you,” you say, voice trembling.

“I keep choosing you. And you started acting like I didn’t. You don’t get to punish me for something I never said.”

He nods slowly face crumples. “I know.”

You leave before the tears fall.

After that day, you don’t text, he doesn’t call. Mack asks if you’re okay. You nod, but it’s a lie, the truth is that you cry in the shower.

You sleep in his hoodie but bury it under your pillow the next morning.

You check your phone ten times.

Nothing. Until…

Smitty: Can I come over?

You open the door.

He’s standing there like he hasn’t slept. Eyes red. Shoulders small. No hoodie this time, just a worn t-shirt and the weight of regret.

“I was wrong,” he says softly.

“I was scared, and I acted like a kid. And I made you feel like you didn’t matter and… I hate that.”

Your lip trembles.

“I’ve never felt like this about someone before,” he whispers. “And it made me so fucking afraid of losing you, I started making it happen myself.”

You step forward, your hand finding his.

“I don’t care how old you are,” you say, tears falling freely now.

“I care that you love me. And you do. I know you do.”

“I do,” he breathes, pulling you in, burying his face in your neck.

“God, I do.”

You hold him like the world is ending. And in a way, it is the end of the fear.

You curl into the couch an hour later, legs tangled, limbs heavy with exhaustion. He plays with your fingers like he’s never letting go again.

You whisper, “I’m never calling Mack ‘baby’ again.”

He laughs, just once, muffled against your shoulder.

“That’s not the problem.”

“What is?”

“I just want to be yours,” he murmurs, curling closer. “The way you’re mine.”

“Will, You are,” you whisper, kissing his lip. “You always were.”

[simplygojo]

Friend-Of-A-Friend ── Chapter Eleven

author's note ⸺ Hello my friends!! This is the first time I'm doing this but I am actually out of the country rn and scheduled these posts in advanced...spooky asf...ANYWAYS, I am STOKED to be finally getting to show you guys the next few chapters...I have never enjoyed writing something so much before... pairing ⸺ Suguru Geto x Reader content ⸺ corporate-worker!reader, emotional tension, modern au, the good-ole-days trope, reader uses female pronouns, detailed descriptions smoking (weed + cigs), high tensions, sexual vibes from certain actions IYKYK taglist at end, 4k, this is an 18+ series - mdni

divider credit: @/toastray ୨୧ art credit: @/juziluohai

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The rest of the evening unfolded in a rhythm both familiar and new, like a well-worn melody revisited with fresh ears. 

You yapped on and on—stories, half-formed thoughts, little observations that normally might have sounded trivial but felt vital somehow with him listening. 

Suguru listened, as he always did: thoughtful, calm, absorbing everything with quiet attentiveness. No interruptions, no rushing, just his steady presence across you.

Your khao soi was amazing, every bite a spicy, creamy comfort that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Butttt you’d already been eyeing his pad see ew, you could almost taste the garlicky sweetness.

So, naturally, he offered to share with you. 

Takeout containers swapped back and forth, forks reaching into each other’s without permission. 

It wasn’t just food, really—it was the easy intimacy of sharing space and tastes, the soft brush of elbows and fingers as you both navigated the small table, the gentle teasing over who got more noodles or the last bite of chicken.

Laughter bubbled up freely between the two of you, sharp and light, woven through with those little cracks of nostalgia and something quietly thrilling about this unplanned evening stretching out, unhurried and full.

The conversation had wandered—looping through old classmates you barely remembered, the worst professors you never could forget, random threads about documentaries you’d watched, weird dreams you’d had, how Gojo still texted like he was trapped in 2016.

Suguru had a way of pulling things out of you without even trying. He didn’t pry, just followed the current wherever you let it go. 

And by the time you realized how late it had gotten, your legs were tangled loosely with his beneath the table—ankles brushing, knees occasionally nudging. Neither of you moved to untangle them.

Your khao soi was gone, his noodles nearly demolished, and the playlist had drifted into something mellow and familiar.

You leaned back slightly, your weight resting on your palms, and let the silence linger for a beat. The low hum of the evening wrapped around you both—soft, golden, unrushed.

“This is good,” you said, more to yourself than to him.

Across from you, Suguru glanced up. “The food?”

You tilted your head, eyes flicking over the room—the soft lighting, the nearly empty containers, the lazy sprawl of limbs beneath the table where your ankle brushed his. “All of it.”

He nodded once, slowly. That quiet, deliberate kind of nod he gave when he was really listening. When he agreed with more than just the words.

Silence crept in again, unbothered. The kind that settled instead of pressed. There was something expansive about it—like the night had opened just enough to make space for both of you without crowding either.

“You always eat that slow?” he asked after a while, eyeing your mostly-finished takeout.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I was talking the whole time!”

He raised a brow, not even pretending to deny it. “You most definitely were,” he said, and there wasn’t a hint of teasing in it. Just a quiet observation. “You do that when you’re comfortable.”

You let out a soft laugh, more breath than sound. “Yeah, I guess... But at least I’m not on the same level as Gojo.”

“Not even close,” he said, without missing a beat. Then, after a pause, “You talk the perfect amount.”

Something about the way he said it—simple, matter-of-fact—landed somewhere low in your chest. Not dramatic. Just... steady. Certain. 

“Yeah? Well, at least someone thinks so.” 

Your voice had a smile in it, even if your mouth didn’t move. And Suguru didn’t say anything in response. You enjoyed the peaceful silence that often came during conversations with Suguru. 

His gaze held yours for a moment, steady and unreadable, before it dropped—trailing down to the table, the space between you, then to where your legs were still tangled loosely beneath. 

His eyes lingered there, thoughtful but unreadable, before slowly making their way back up to your face.

When he met your eyes again, there was nothing overt in his expression. Just a flicker of something—quiet, grounded—before he looked away, as casually as if he hadn’t done any of that.

The silence held, easy and warm, the jazzy playlist spinning out into the background.

Then, trying to sound like it had just occurred to you, you glanced over at him and asked, “Wanna smoke?”

It came out light. Casual. The same way you might ask if he wanted tea.

You already knew he’d have something on him—he always did. 

And it wasn’t that you weren’t enjoying the night sober. You most definitely were. More than you expected to, even.

But something about having him here again made you crave the quiet buzz of it. Not for the high, exactly—just the way it made things stretch out a little longer between the two of you. Settle a little deeper. 

Suguru tilted his head, slowly, like he was weighing the question for no real reason except that he liked to make you wait.

“Sure,” he said, nodding. “You got anything?”

You had no reply. 

Just a slow smile, lips pressing together before curving. One eyebrow edged up, eyes soft and wide with a flicker of guilt tucked just beneath the surface—open, a little sheepish. The kind of look that confessed without a word, like a kid caught red-handed and hoping charm might soften the blow.

His eyes narrowed a little, amused by your reaction. Then he huffed a dry laugh—quiet and disbelieving.

He knew you wouldn’t.

“Of course you don’t,” he muttered, pushing himself up from the rug with a low grunt.

You watched him pat down one pocket, then the other—those loose, baggy jeans slung low enough on his hips that glimpses of skin flashed beneath the hem of his sweatshirt. Finally, he reached deep into one of the front pockets and pulled out a small pack of cigarettes and a white plastic tube you recognized instantly.

Same kind as the other night.

He held them up in his hand and gave his black lighter a harsh flick—the corner of his mouth quirking just slightly. 

“Lucky for you...” he said, not bothering to finish his sentence since you had already sprung up from the carpet yourself. 

You padded toward the balcony, brushing the curtain aside with the back of your hand. The night air slid in through the small opening—cooler than expected, but slightly humid. 

City sounds drifted in from below: a distant honk, the low murmur of someone’s television, footsteps echoing against the sidewalk a few stories down.

Behind you, the soft rustle of fabric and the click of the lighter as Suguru followed. 

You both stepped out in your socks, the chill of the concrete biting against the lingering warmth still clinging to your skin from dinner.

You crossed the small balcony with ease, stepping up to the railing and resting your forearms along the cool metal. 

The night opened wide in front of you—glowing windows across the street, the soft buzz of a distant streetlamp, the low sound of a car rolling past far below. You leaned in slightly, letting the breeze graze your skin, eyes drifting across the quiet stretch of city.

Suguru stepped out after you, settling into place at your side but turning to face the opposite direction. 

He leaned his weight into the railing behind him, arms draped casually over the edge, one ankle hooked over the other. His head dipped slightly, gaze lowered, like something quiet on the ground had caught his attention.

He then brought the joint to his mouth with one hand, lighter already in the other, the flame catching with a soft shhck as he shielded it from the breeze. 

The tip flared amber as he drew in, cheeks hollowing slightly, eyes half-lidded beneath the porch light.

He turned his head, exhaling with a quiet huff. The smoke drifted out in a low stream, curling in the narrow space between your bodies—thin and silver, catching faintly in the light before disappearing into the dark.

Then, without a word, he leaned slightly closer, extending the joint toward you with a slow, deliberate ease. 

His wrist tilted just so, barely enough to catch your eye, and that sideways glance held a quiet challenge, half amusement, half something unspoken.

You accepted it without a word, feeling just as at ease chatting endlessly with Suguru as you did sharing the quiet—both rare comforts in their own way.

The cigarette came next—same slow flick of the lighter, same steady inhale.

He didn’t speak right away, just let the first drag settle in his chest before easing it out through his nose. The smoke trailed upward in a thin, silvery stream, catching in the amber glow of the porch light overhead.

For a while, the quiet between you stretched—easily, unbroken. The kind of silence that didn’t ask for anything.

You brought the joint to your lips again and pulled long and slow, until the heat bit at the base of your throat.

Thick and dry and hot—burning at first, then blooming into something deeper. You held it in until your lungs ached, until the pressure turned warm, and then let it spill from your mouth in a slow, steady stream.

God, that feeling.

It was almost embarrassing how much you’d missed it. Not just the taste or the heat, but the drop. 

That barely-there second where the world tilted, just a little—like a table leg knocked loose under your thoughts—and then settled again, softer somehow. Rounder. Slower. 

There was nothing like it.

You blinked, and the air felt denser. Your limbs heavier in the nicest way. That familiar buzz was already collecting behind your eyes, and a thick cotton haze that dulled everything sharp and left only the quiet.

The high didn’t slam into you. It slipped in.

Easy. Familiar. Like something half-forgotten crawling back into your bloodstream.

And you welcomed it.

You glanced at Suguru without turning your head, and for a second, you just watched the way the smoke curled from the cigarette in his hand.

It rose in soft spirals, catching the amber light before disappearing into the dark—same rhythm as you remembered, same quiet focus in the way he held it. 

There was something soothing about it, almost hypnotic. Like a loop your body still remembered how to fall into.

Another breath, another drag.

This time, you didn’t think before pulling it in—just let it happen.

And behind the smoke that was beginning to collect on your porch, behind the porch light glow, you could feel it starting to hook into your ribs again. 

That old habit. That soft ache for softness.

Below, the city kept moving. But up here, the moment held.

Suguru shifted just enough to catch your gaze, his eyes narrowing subtly—calm, steady, quietly attentive, as if weighing something unspoken. 

His voice came low and close as he finally broke the quiet.

“You always bait people into sharing their stash with that look of yours?”

You exhaled smoke, letting it linger on your smile before poking some fun at him. “Hmm…only the ones who buy me dinner first.”

He huffed—just once—and reached out to take the joint from your hand. You let it go with a soft laugh.

He passed you the cigarette in exchange, sliding it gently between your fingers. His touch lingered—not long, but long enough.

Suguru brought the joint to his lips—but paused.

You saw it too. The faint pink tint left on the filter—barely there, but noticeable if you looked close enough. Which he usually did.

And something in him gave, just slightly.

Not much. Just the flicker of it—so fast you might’ve missed it if you hadn’t been watching him so closely. 

A slight shift in his posture.

The smallest flex in his jaw, like he’d just clenched and released it in the same breath. His fingers tightened around the joint for half a second too long.

He brought the joint to his mouth, slower this time.

You caught the way his gaze flicked to the filter just as he aligned the joint to his lips—purposefully, precisely—so that his lips landed exactly where yours had been. 

Not beside it. Not around it. Dead center. Like it was intentional. Like he wanted to feel the trace of you there.

And maybe you imagined it, but his eyelids seemed just a touch heavier as they fluttered shut as he inhaled.

The inhale was deep, deeper than the last—shoulders rising just slightly beneath the black sweatshirt, the edge of his jaw flexing with the pull.

The ember glowed bright orange, burning through the quiet between you. Then dimmed.

He held it for a breath.

Two.

The smoke trailed out between you, catching for a moment in the porch light before fading into the night.

But he didn’t turn away with the smoke.

Instead, he turned his head toward you.

Deliberate.

The joint still balanced between his fingers, the faintest trace of pink still visible on the paper where your lips had touched.

His gaze wasn’t sharp, but it was focused. On you. Then, unmistakably, on the joint.

Still between his fingers.

Still bearing the faint pink outline of your lips.

After a short moment, his gaze met yours again and held, though the intensity you thought you felt from it was a little too heated to be casual.

Though to be honest, you did have a pretty good imagination.

Then—quiet enough that it slipped between heartbeats, like something not meant to be spoken aloud—

“You don’t even notice what you do, do you?”

He didn’t blink. Didn’t smirk. Just said it like a fact. Like a truth he’d stumbled over and hadn’t figured out what to do with.

Your breath caught—not visibly, not in any way that showed. But you felt it. That slight catch in your chest.

You followed his eyes to the joint and saw it clearly now—the imprint left behind. A soft crescent mark. Too faint to call attention to itself. Too specific to ignore.

Your first instinct was to brush it off. Laugh, maybe. Say something clever.

But you didn’t. You simply tried to ignore the strange, pulsing awareness suddenly alive under your skin.

The two of you just stared at each other for a moment—maybe testing boundaries—maybe not. Your throat felt dry, but it was not from the smoke.

Still, you managed to tilt your head—just a little—and let your eyes flick down to the joint, then back up to his.

“Didn’t think you were paying that much attention to me.”

You said with a laugh, though it sounded more like a deflection than a punchline. You tilted your head, trying to cool the sudden heat rising up the back of your neck.

Suguru didn’t look away.

He didn’t speak, either—not right away. He just held your gaze like he was searching for something in it.

And then, lower his time, like it cost him more—

“I’ve always paid attention to you.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was full. Full to the damn birm. Full with things unsaid. With you. With him. With the space you hadn’t yet figured out how to cross, let alone if you were even meant to cross it.

Your breath caught again, not from nerves, but from recognition. And maybe he saw that in you, because when he spoke again, it came softer. Closer.

Like a confession held too long in the chest.

He swallowed, just once.

“I think I started paying attention to you before you ever said a word to me.” The words hung there, strange and bare between you, like he hadn’t meant to say them out loud. Like they’d slipped out before he could stop them.

He let out a breath after, quiet and uneven. His gaze had drifted somewhere just past you—distant, unfixed—like he was searching the back of his mind for something half-remembered. 

Whatever passed across his face wasn’t obvious, but you could tell he was sifting through something. Quietly. Carefully.

You didn’t turn away, but you didn’t meet his eyes either. Just stood there with the cigarette between your fingers, smoke curling softly into the night.

The city stretched out in front of you—indifferent, glittering—but all you could feel was the nearness of him beside you. The quiet shift in the air between two bodies that hadn’t moved physically, but had still somehow drawn closer.

He was facing you now, fully. You could feel the weight of his attention on your profile, the way his body curved slightly toward yours like it was his natural instinct.

You took a drag, mostly for something to do with your mouth, then exhaled slowly through your nose. Your pulse ticked at your throat.

And there it was—that moment. The one where you could lean in, crack yourself open just a little, acknowledge the way his words had landed heavy and unguarded between you.

But being you, you took the other route. The safer one. The one with teeth and a crooked smile.

“You know,” you said, tilting your head just slightly, “when you say shit like that, I can’t tell if you’re flirting with me or like hexing me.”

A moment passed. Then the corner of his mouth tugged up—just slightly—and he let out a quiet breath, almost a laugh. You liked pulling that out of him. He didn’t give it easily.

“Kinda cryptic,” you added, a little lighter now. Like maybe you hadn’t been holding your breath since he first spoke.

A pause. Then, a quiet breath out from him—almost a laugh.

You caught it from the corner of your eye. That small pull at the corner of his mouth. Hard to earn, but always real when it came.

He reached over and took the cigarette from between your fingers, swapping it for the joint without a word. It was a quiet motion. Unspoken, but easy—like slipping back into the peaceful rhythm the two of you already knew.

He didn’t look away. Just held your gaze for a second longer than necessary with that sly smile plastered on his lips.

Then, casually—so lightly you almost missed it. “You deflect well.”

It wasn’t a challenge. Not even a comment, really. Just a quiet truth laid down without expectation—like he was naming something he'd noticed, not asking you to change it.

Your smile shifted—not bigger, just different. Softer at the edges. A little tired, maybe. A little caught.

He didn’t follow it up with anything else. And you didn’t explain. You knew he understood why you deflected. 

“Thanks,” you said, voice low—dry, but not unkind. You flicked ash off the joint with a practiced tap, then glanced at him sideways. “It’s a skill.”

His eyes didn’t leave yours. Not even when you looked away first. He just nodded once, like he accepted that answer, but didn’t buy it completely.

Silence settled in again, but it wasn’t cold. It was that strange kind of quiet that meant something had shifted. Not everything—but enough that it’d be impossible to pretend it hadn’t.

And still, neither of you moved.

You brought the joint to your lips again, slower this time. Drew in a breath that didn’t quite steady you the way it should have.

For a while, that was all there was—the dim sound of traffic below, the rustle of city wind against the balcony rail, the shared quiet between you. The silence had shifted. Not tense, exactly, but dense—like air thick with something unspoken. 

You could feel it in the space between you. That subtle hum of awareness, too quiet to name but impossible to ignore. His knee just barely angled toward yours. It was the kind of quiet that asked a question without saying it out loud. And you weren’t sure you had an answer.

You shifted slightly, suddenly hyper-aware of how long it had been since either of you said anything. You became aware of your own heartbeat—too present in the quiet, like your body had forgotten how to relax. 

A ripple of self-consciousness stirred, tightening in your chest in an unfamiliar way that made you want to fill the air with anything: a laugh, a cough, some half-formed sentence that didn’t matter, so long as it broke the tension.

Then you cleared your throat softly.

“Well.” You shifted your weight, glanced at the time on your phone, even though you hadn’t gotten any notifications. “Look at that. Almost midnight. Time really flies…or whatever…”

You tried for casual—tried to keep it light, but the words didn’t feel right coming out of your mouth. “We’ve both got work in the morning. You should probably head out before I start offering you a toothbrush and drawer space.”

It was meant to be a joke, but your voice caught just slightly at the end. Not enough to ruin it. Just enough that he noticed. 

Suguru’s brow lifted—barely—and his mouth curved upwards into a knowing smile, but he didn’t tease you for it. He just tilted his head, a little thoughtful now, like he was deciding whether or not to say something.

Instead, he nodded once. “Yeah. Guess you’re right.”

He leaned forward and tapped the spent cigarette against the edge of the balcony rail. Ash scattered into the wind, and a second later, he flicked the butt out into the night with a lazy flick of his fingers. You followed suit—dropped what was left of the joint between two slats, watching it tumble into the darkness below without a sound.

A sudden breath left you, quicker than you’d meant, and you pushed off the railing, wiping your hands on the front of your jeans like it somehow reset something in your body. 

“Okay, well…” you said, already moving toward the balcony door, too brisk to seem casual. “Thanks for hanging out and stuff. This was—yeah. Fun.”

You winced inwardly at the clumsy string of words but didn’t stop. He didn’t say anything—just followed you in, slow and quiet, like he always moved. You left the balcony door cracked behind you and padded barefoot across the apartment, flicking on the hallway light as you went. The warm overhead glow felt too bright all of a sudden, too ordinary for the way your chest was still buzzing.

You stopped at the front door and turned, but he was already there, standing a few feet behind you. Not crowding, not lingering—just… there. Hands in his pockets. Eyes still on you, steady.

You reached for the door handle and paused, trying to think of something smooth to say. Anything that might make the end of this feel less weird than it suddenly did.

“Anyway,” you said, voice thinner than you meant. “Thanks for, um—dinner. The noodles were really good.”

He gave a small nod, a smile pulling gently at his mouth. “Thanks for the company.”

You smiled back, or tried to, but it faltered at the edges. You hesitated, fingers still resting on the door like you might open it, —like you weren’t sure if you should.

He tilted his head slightly. Waited.

“I’m not kicking you out or anything,” you said, too quickly. “I just figured—you know, we’ve both got stuff in the morning, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to stay. Not that you were going to. But if you were—I mean—”

Suguru let out a soft breath. It wasn’t quite a laugh, but it eased something in the room. “It’s okay,” he said, gently. “I get it.”

You nodded—once, twice—like that settled it, even though nothing really felt settled.

Then finally, you turned the knob and opened the door for him. He stepped forward, the space between you narrowing for just a second too long.

“Night,” you said, eyes not quite meeting his.

“Night,” he echoed, and you felt his gaze linger a beat longer before he stepped through the doorway.

You closed the door after him swiftly and stayed there, hand against the door, forehead nearly tipping forward until it rested there too. The wood was cool beneath your skin. Real. Grounding. But your stomach was doing something strange. A slow roll, a low twist. Not unpleasant. Just… unfamiliar.

And for the first time in a long time, you had no clue what to do with the way you felt.

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[accio-victuuri]

i am enjoying going through this tag on weibo #王八好好吃饭大赛# or turtle eating contest. it’s basically cpfs sharing cpn/candies/rumor. it’s a common expression among us that when there is a good cpn shared, comments will say something like : “i have eaten well.” so that’s where the tag comes from. i have to agree with the posts on this entry, it’s a paradise for cpn lovers.

i’m gonna share a few on here for everyone to have a good meal. i picked out more of the fake rumor kind of things, cause that is the majority and in shorter form that i can compile it. tho some did share proper cpn posts with explanations and all but i feel like i already have shared those here over the years. i can’t possibly put everything in that tag here, so i shared the web link for others to visit it too. ✌🏼

so anyway, enjoy! 🍚

⬇️⬇️⬇️

• When I graduated in 2021, my roommate went to Beijing for an internship, and their company took on an event and had contact with Bo. One day, she tagged me in a group of friends that she heard Bo send a voice message: Baobao, I'm going to work first, I'll call you after I finish (in a while)~ Then my roommates didn't believe it, because Bo was very cold on the surface, and then I dug out the behind-the-scenes footage: “Then you have to be nice to me~” and our group exploded.

• My friends, I brought it up again 😈 The original picture is from (2020) years ago, I can't stand it anymore - but I can't directly post the original picture of gzry sister, so I will just transcribe both pictures and relay them in text:

Wang Yibo is so bad. He was talking on the phone with Xiaozhan during dinner, and he deliberately turned on the speaker of his phone to play the game, and he was eating and teasing Xiaozhan.

Xiaozhan didn't know where he bumped into something, and he was still complaining to his husband on the phone when he was feeling uncomfortable. He was in a daze and had no idea that he turned on the speaker. Her voice was soft, and he spoke to Wang Yibo like a spoiled child: "It still hurts, it hurts so much"; Wang Yibo said: "I'll blow it for you", but Xiaozhan was still unhappy, and said directly: "Then you can't come..." His tone was even roundabout, and the rest of the staff who were eating lunch boxes at the table didn't dare to breathe.

This is exactly the daily complaints of gzry on both sides, hahaha [Too disgusting] [I really can't stand it] [Whoever wants this job can get it] [Ten thousand points of harm to single dogs]

FYI: for those who don’t know what GZRY means ⬇️

• W bought a new car some time ago. But X used this brand when he was working in Shanghai. The same car. It is not clear whether W bought the car for his wife.I'm going abroad to travel and temporarily give the car to my wife.

( basically saying that when WYB was away, XZ used his car for work. ya know. married behavior. also, it’s OP who used “wife”. I don’t see XZ as a wife. )

• Let me tell you an old story first. My best friend's friend (not a fan, just a good friend, but knows her best friend loves him very much) family is very powerful, living in the area where my IP is the highest level, just happened to be with that super famous host, everyone knows him, if Chong Er wants to release it, please help me to blur his name, otherwise this information is too directive, and you can tell who leaked it at a glance...

They are neighbors for many years, and the two families have a good relationship. One day, the host (this specific event should also be coded), invited this woman's family to a dinner party. This woman was curious because her best friend kept talking about it, so she couldn't help but ask the host if BoXiaowas really together, and then the host smiled, nodded to show affirmation, and said that their relationship was stable and they were living well now (2021 at that time). (I feel that the host probably thought she was a fan. At that time, because of the aftermath of the previous year, the situation was actually a bit subtle, at least not as good as it is now, so the host also specially comforted her and said not to worry, they are very happy now... Oh, I really feel bad for you again.)

• My good colleague told me that she had taken over a project and had a good relationship with one of the junior leaders of that project (they often worked together).

The project filmed an advertisement with Bobo. The young leader was standing not far from Bobo during the filming. He saw Bobo replying to WeChat messages, raised his phone, took a selfie and sent it to. The young leader saw that the WeChat note of the person Bobo was chatting with was Zhan Ge.

He said he knew something, but he signed an NDA. But he said, you can chase stars now.

• XZ makes cupcakes for WYB.

• My roommate's friend used to intern at a TV station and accompanied an artist (artist's name is sk) to record a program. My roommate asked her what was going on with Bo Jun Yi Xiao. The friend didn't support it, and replied very calmly, "Oh, no need to ask about them, it's true." Then the roommate asked her if Bo Jun Yi Xiao was a secret show. The friend said it was actually quite obvious, and everyone in the circle knew it.

• XZ cooks for WYB, and he shows it off among circle of friends. like the one below, it’s clearly for two people. caption is “do it yourself and live a comfortable life”

• XZ really likes WYB’s look in LOF. He often asked WYB to send videos when he is doing something on set and send it to him.

• I remembered another one. I was browsing Xiaohongshu and saw someone took a photo of a motorcycle on an elevated road in Beijing. Many people said it looked like Wang Yibo. I looked through the comments and there was a reply that said it was not Wang Yibo. Many people asked why you said it was not Wang Yibo. The blogger of that comment said that the license plate numbers of Wang Yibo's two motorcycles did not match. Then some people went to his homepage and found out that he was a CP fan (in fact, he just posted a human-shaped stand of cql). The person’s homepage looked very rich. Some people said that the sister was stupid and had a lot of money, but she still supported this kind of CP, which was obviously fake. The sister replied that she was sick. Who would support the CP of their colleagues? Bao Bao, think about it carefully.

Another one is a stalker I followed before who only had a few fans. His Weibo location was also in Beijing. He had previously sent a bouquet of flowers saying that it was received by XZ on Chinese Valentine's Day. Later I checked and found that the flower shop was less than 1 km away from Wang Yibo's home.

( the OP is implying that these fake accounts are yibo. especially the 2nd one. )

• Last year, I was in charge of operating their Weibo account ( company name redacted ) . My mentor once noticed that I was wearing the same short-sleeved shirt as Wang Yibo and asked me if I was his fan. I said that I was not only his fan... He immediately understood and said that what you like is quite accurate, and that he has a really special relationship with that person (XZ) . I got excited and asked him why he said that! He said that he only jumped to it in 2023, and had been there before. He also participated in the interview for The Untamed in 2019, and he even found a picture of him and Bo Xiao in the same frame and showed it to me. During the promotion of the drama, their colleagues discussed their relationship with each other. A male colleague who had been in the group before said that they had dated, but he didn’t know what happened afterwards.

• I'm here! Although it's not very direct information, I just want to talk about the semi-publicity of the two of them in the industry.

I used to work in the industry. Because I was in an art school, many of my classmates were in the industry. I first knew about them in 2019, which was relatively early. At that time, 9xue was on the hot search, and I clicked in to take a look, but I didn’t think that their relationship was bad, I just felt it was weird. We even discussed in the dormitory whether this was a good relationship or not, and finally concluded that they couldn’t be pure colleagues. After a while, my college roommate went to an internship at a production company. After a period of internship, he came back and suddenly said to me: My God, do you know who is real with whom? I said, are you crazy? She said it was the producer sister of their company who said it, and she directly said that they lived on the upper and lower floors (now I think it should be jmf) Then I was very curious because I really hadn’t seen a real gay in the domestic entertainment industry. I watched the materials all night and officially fell in love with it.

Later, I found a job in the industry. I can only say that if you reveal your fan status a little, someone will suddenly say to you in casual conversation: "Oh, you like him, hey, did you know that he and that person are really together?" "Did you know that they were really dating?" "Did you like them before you knew they were really together?" There are so many things like this.

• When Xiao Zhan was on the set of The Untamed, Wang Yibo brought out a box of self-heating hotpot to eat. Xiao Zhan was afraid of getting fat and didn't dare to eat it. Wang Yibo prepared a box and was ready to eat. At this time, Xiao Zhan took Wang Yibo's chopsticks and said he wanted to taste it. Wang Yibo asked Xiao Zhan if he was hungry and if he wanted him to get a box. Xiao Zhan said no, and then you and I ate half of Wang Yibo's box of self-heating hotpot... In the middle, Wang Yibo said that he would gain weight~ Xiao Zhan pretended not to hear it. At the end of the meal, Wang Yibo wanted to drink the soup. Xiao Zhan said don't drink it because it's too oily. In the end, the two of them ate it all.

( lol this one is funny 😂😂😂 )

• Aren’t there a lot of bugs in the crew? I like to play with bugs. One time, Bobo ran and said, “Take it away, take it away.”

XZ said to WYB as a joke: "If you say that, the little bug will also feel sad."

In fact, hus tone was obviously teasing, and WYB was stunned for a moment, thinking. Seeing that WYB was stunned, XZ quickly said to him, "Okay, let's let it go back. Do you want to say goodbye to him?"

Then WYB said: Goodbye (waved)

XZ smiled and said, "Don't you have anything to say to it?" WYB: "Then you better not come tomorrow."

( WYB is so cuteeee 🥹🥹🥹🥹 )

• My friend is doing postgraduate study at China University of Political Science and Law, and her classmate is doing internship at a small court. A few days ago, I found out that her brother and younger brother sued the same company together and used the same agent. Since it's not an online infringement case, I guess XZS and YBO won't issue a statement.

• They were all from Day Day Up in 2019. I had a sister who was an agent. She was familiar with gzry from Mango TV in 2019.

Then they said that the two of them were very sweet backstage, and the gzrys commented that it was filled with the sweet atmosphere of bringing a wife home. At that time, it was said that Wang Yibo twisted the bottle of mineral water for Xiao Zhan and handed it to him, and many people were cheering. Then it was said that after the rehearsal, Wang Yibo took Xiao Xiao for a ride on a small motorcycle. That motorcycle had only carried Han Ge before.

• My sister is an advertising employee. It should be in 2020, when her colleague was sending products, she found that Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan’s external delivery address was the same (they were not endorsements in the same period, and when sending to one person, they found that the address was duplicated and sent to another person)

• they have been playing tennis together in a club in Beijing. Also played badminton. It's not this year, it's the first half of last year.

sources: one and two

[shinylipglosss]

Leon S. Kennedy x M!Reader

╰ ➤ this post is superrrr laid back (not that smutty) compared to my other stuff but i wanted to create a longer storyline so if this gets a good reception i rlly want to make another part!!

“Wait here, k?” Leon’s soothing voice managed to take your mind off the hell you two were being put through. You were grateful he was trying his damnedest to keep you safe. But at the same time you were even frightened without his familiar blanket of heat near you.

Moments—minutes—passed and there was no sign of Leon in the cramped, dark room he had left you in. Just as you were starting to accept that he left you, a bang rang out on the other side of the door. These freaks are smart, he had told you, they’ll imitate human movements. With those words in mind you didn’t dare even move—shock giving you no choice in the matter.

“It’s me.” It was both a blessing and a curse to hear Leon’s voice. A blessing because something had loosened inside you at the intimate sound, but a curse due to the thick pain easy to find in it. You clambered over yourself to get to the locked door; when you did Leon instantly collapsed into your arms. It was odd feeling: to protect your protector. Despite the oddness it warmed you all the same.

“Easy,” You lowered the grunting man to the spot you were sat waiting for him earlier. He thumped on the chair with a resignation that scared you more than you’d like to admit. “take your shirt off.” The reason Leon brought you to this god-forsaken place was for your medical skills.

“Here i thought we were only just getting to know each other.” Leon chuckled softly—the motion causing an equal amount of coughing. You found his normal humour calming. Well at least he’s not at the point where he can’t make jokes, you thought in an effort to assure yourself.

Luckily, with the lantern Leon had kept on him, you inspected the wound. This wasn’t exactly the first time you saw him shirtless. Of course, you never saw his body in all its glory, especially not illuminated with the ivory glow of the light. Your heart raced in your chest at the sight. His body rose and fell with the immense pain he was in. It made a terrible feeling wedge itself into you; you berated yourself for your feelings about him.

“Just a sec,” You looked up at his fluttering eyes. “it’s deep.” You pushed into the dark red gash just to the right of his naval. Leon’s back arched, in what you could only assume was all-consuming pain. How one of those freaks managed to get this close to a man with his skills, you had yet to figure out. That comes later, you swore at yourself, first save the man’s life who’s saved yours more than once.

Hours passed and, having finished stitching him up, you slept quieter knowing that he was starting to get better.

The next morning, Leon woke before you, beckoning you awake. “We’ve got to go.” He said with a sudden urgency.

You practically laughed in his face. “If you try to run, your stitches will rip and you will die. With my efforts or not. He regarded what you said; your cheeks flushing when you saw that he had his shirt back on, but hanging loosely with the buttons undone.

He nodded tersely, “One more day. After that, we have to keep going.” That you could live with. Though you couldn’t guarantee your needs would be able to contain themselves. Leon made a move to cross the room and groaned.

“Let me see.” You snapped, pointing to the chair he had sat in the night before. He, slowly, made his way to where he was asked to be. This time he lowered himself with a new found masculine energy that was impossible to ignore. With legs manspread, he lost his shirt and began to feel his body. You knew he was trying to put his wound on display but you warmed at the sight. It didn’t help that you were on your knees trying to see.

“D’know what’d help me?” His voice darkened with the same sudden realisation you also had. Between his spread legs was a hard length. “Get rid of this mornin’ wood for me.” He was commanding and simple with his request. So you didn’t have any room to argue, pulling his clothes off with a pent up feeling you clearly both had.

“Will this hurt?” You asked him whilst simultaneously pumping his cock. You couldn’t tear your eyes off him.

“You’re the doctor, you tell me.” You shrugged then, simply not caring anymore. It had been months without any action. The two of you would be stuck in here for another day, so why not enjoy it?

[conellu]

Can I have dae-ho and Nam-gyu dating headcanons(separately) please 🙏🏻🙏🏻 season 3 makes me miss them 💔🫩

Dating Kang Dae-ho (post game) and Nam-gyu (pre-,in, and post-game)

Writing blog @conelluwrites Reader is not the same through out (Pre-game is different than the reader for in-game and post-game! Reader for in-game and post-game are the same.) Reader is referred to as "you" throughout so everyone can enjoy these Check out my pre-game and in game Dae-ho hcs here Warnings for Dae-ho: abusive father (implied), PTSD, mild alcoholism, slight smut (one hc) Warnings for Nam-gyu: CANON Nam-gyu (drug use, generally being an asshole), some smut (vague dick description, dom/sub/top/bottom type, and a couple other hcs)

Post Game When you both get dropped off at the same location, he’s an absolute mess.  He can barely even register the feel of the ground beneath him, much less the way you try to help him.  You need to talk soothingly to him, don’t try moving too fast, and definitely don’t get upset when he squirms away from you at first.

He visits you and insists that you don’t need to visit him.  He doesn’t elaborate, he feels embarrassed to admit he still doesn’t want to go to his house- not a home, just a house.  He doesn’t want to see his father’s disappointed look, doesn’t want to have to explain to his mother where he’s been, and doesn’t want his sister to fuss over him.  He’s just bouncing from place to place, including your place. 

He does enjoy being held tightly, like you’re working to break him in half thats the level of tightness he wants.  But he also loves to hold you, your back against his chest and your bodies touching wherever possible.  Skin-to-skin is preferred by far, he doesn’t want to make situations sexual but he does shyly bring up how nice it would feel to have your skin against his.  You guys start slow with the idea, sleeping with a shirt and underwear on, then moving to sleeping with just underwear, then fully naked.  It doesn’t necessarily turn either of you on and just makes you both feel safe and sound.

Nightmares are a common occurrence for him, be it from his time in the games or before.  He cries in his sleep and sometimes wakes up screaming in a panic attack.  He apologizes profusely afterwards, begging for you to forgive him, that he’s sorry, that it won’t happen again.   Even with your reassurance that it’s okay, that you understand, he doesn’t believe it.

He doesn’t like to talk about his pre-game life, especially not at the beginning.  Sure he’ll talk to you about his sisters and his mom, but he always leaves out his father or laughs awkwardly while saying ‘well, you know how fathers are…’  As you two get closer, he begins to open up more and more but you’ll never get the full, entire truth in one go.  He doesn’t want you to see him as a coward or broken.

He was a slight alcoholic before the games, and he turned to old habits afterwards.  He doesn’t want to make you more worried than you already seem, doesn’t want to see those pretty eyes of yours look at him like that.  He doesn’t drink 24/7, but he does require a drink before bed or else he can’t handle himself.  This habit does slowly die off with your help.

You’re not sure when he fully moved in, but you’re not complaining.

Sex doesn’t happen immediately after the games, it takes a few weeks for him to be in the mood.  Please be patient with him.  Masturbation in the same room and mutual masturbation does happen before sex though.

He likes to see you wear his clothing or accessories, even if it’s just something as simple as his hair tie around your wrist.  He likes to buy matching clothing, either those typical couples shirts or just the same design on a shirt.  This also stretches to similar socks, he likes to feel close to you even if you’re not around so he’ll wear a pair of black socks and ask for you to wear a same color pair.

Pre-Game He is NOT the relationship type.  Oh my god, he avoids that shit like a goddamn plague.  That’s not to say that you don’t make his cold heart pump harder and his palms sweat when you give him that soft look, it’s more to say that he doesn’t feel as if he deserves something as pure as love.  No amount of patience or resilience will solve this, it’s something that he has to work on.

You’re lucky to get a huff and grunt out of him when it comes to asking what you two are when he takes you on a date.  It’s not a common occurrence, he’s more likely to come by your place or invite you over to his after he’s done working at the club.  He’s not the loving, sweet type. Dates are little more than a means to an end, that end being you on his dick in some way or another.  If you aggravate him too much he’ll just snap and say you’re nothing to him, even if it’s not the truth- even if you’re the most important person to him (you are.)

His cock is slightly less than average in length, but he makes up for what he feels he lacks in girth.  He’s uncut.  He doesn’t clean shave but he doesn’t go full natural.  He can and will bury your nose in his pubic hair when you give him head.

Dom leaning switch with a preference for being on the bottom.  He’s not a gentle dom, he’s not opposed to putting (and keeping) you in your place.  He’s also not opposed to being put in his place, but he has to be in a very specific mood.  It’s hard to spot when you first start getting into less than vanilla sex and ideas, but it becomes more and more obvious when his asshole behavior turns into more brat behavior.  He loves it when you ride him, loves digging his fingers into your hips until red marks appear.

Speaking of marks, he definitely leaves hickeys.  He likes to show off that you’re his in the most basic (albeit immature) way.

He’s an asshole most of the time, even when he’s soft he’s prone to being rude.  It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy the moment, he’s just not a softie.  Don’t take it to heart, don’t leave him, just stick around and you’ll eventually see him get nicer and nicer- though he’s never going to be the kind of boyfriend you can exactly brag about.

He alternates between being jealous and possessive and not feeling any type of way about you being around others.  He will flat out call you a whore though if he spots you getting “too close” (the definition changes depending on his mood, the drugs in his system, etc.)

He wants you to become an addict too.  If you’re not already on something, he’ll get you on something.  Absolutely loves seeing you change into his addict partn- friend.  He wouldn’t say he has a kink for this, but he does get some sexual satisfaction from the fantasy.

All in all, pre-game Nam-gyu isn’t a very good “boyfriend”.  He doesn’t claim to be though and he’s never hid anything from you.  He’s the type where you get what you see, nothing more and nothing less.

In Game Nam-gyu begrudgingly ‘allows’ you to join Team Thanos- he doesn’t hate the idea of a cute thing like you being around all the time, but he hates the idea of weakness.  And goddamn do you make him feel weak.

Jealous, jealous man.  He hates how Thanos seems to make you swoon and open up more than he’s able to.  He hates how you talk to Min-su, that pussy boy getting your attention.  Hates how you and Se-mi get along, dumb bitch needs to learn you’re his goddammit.  Fuck, even the way you’ll listen to Gyeong-su imitate Thanos’s raps…  This is mostly all in his head though.  His own insecurities highlight every interaction you have with others.  It’s not even like you ignore him!  You laugh at his jokes, lean against him when you sit side by side, and talk one-on-one with him.

He’s a bit off putting, to be honest.  Especially when it comes to lights out.  You can feel him staring at you.  He doesn’t do it on purpose, he just wants to make sure you’re okay. 

He won’t tell you he loves you before games, he’s not into that pussy shit, but he will squeeze your hand and rest his forehead on yours before shoving you away.  He’s more apt to call you his partner in the games than he would be outside the games.

Penetrative sex doesn’t happen in the games, but he does fuck your face in the bathroom when he can.  He would love to cover your face in his cum, but there’s no soap in the bathrooms and you outright refuse to go around smelling like that shit.

When Thanos dies, he relies on you more than anything else (except for maybe the pills, but you’re a close second!)  He will not let you out of his line of sight, he will want to touch you in some way non-sexually.  You’re either going to help him find Se-mi and Min-su or sit your pretty lil ass down and wait for him to return.

He’s damn proud of himself when he does find you again though.  He will say every explicit detail of Se-mi’s death, he does offhandedly mention the others he killed but he wants you to praise him or something over Se-mi. He protects you during hide and seek if you’re on the blue team, more or less forcing you to follow close behind him and Myung-gi.  He helps secure your kill if you’re on the red team, either going in half for the kill or cornering a blue vest and encouraging you to go for it already.

Post-Game Post-game Nam-gyu is infinitely more likely to claim you as his partner.  Not just as a sexual partner, but as a romantic one as well!  Being through the games, especially with you specifically, makes him realize he needs to take things- people- that are important to him more seriously.

Now don’t get the wrong idea, it’s not an immediate change by any means, but he does make an actual effort.  Granted, that’s not saying much given how he treated people important to him before the games.

He’s more likely to want some sort of sexual release after the games, he needs to be inside of you ASAP.  Needs to show you in his own way how special you are to him while also relieving the high stress he feels.  He doesn’t try to butter you up with sweet words, he makes it clear what he’s getting at- a way to ‘claim’ you and release himself.  He doesn't ask you to ride him, it’s one of the few times he’s content with just missionary.  He’d never admit it, but it’s because he wants to establish more of a connection with you.

He moves you into his place, even if it’s shitty and you both have to work together to clean it up to be inhabitable for two people.  It takes some time, but it’s well worth it when you guys are able to lounge on the couch together or lay around in bed together.

He’s more upfront with his emotions, even if he feels like some pussy for it.  Is he always honest?  Of course not, he’s still Nam-gyu, but he’s more likely to tell you what makes him uncomfortable if you interact with another guy instead of just calling you a loose slut or instigating an argument.  

He does still argue though, he does still allow himself to fall into old habits like screaming or throwing and breaking things.  He’ll clean up his own mess though and try to make it up to you without it being a  manipulation tactic to get you to stick around.  He actually uses his big boy words and apologizes.

He doesn’t like matching clothes, the idea makes his skin crawl, but he’s not opposed to matching in other ways.  Drinking the same drink is his favorite thing to do, it’s subtle but makes him feel powerful haha

He still does drugs, this is Nam-gyu.  He’s not gonna force or manipulate you into trying anything if you’re not comfortable with it, but he’ll definitely praise you for giving it go (and maybe even eat you out, something he doesn’t do often.)

He prefers to sleep with your head on his chest, an arm over him, and your feet rubbing gently at his ankle.  He’ll kiss your head and mutter out a tired ‘night’.  When he’s super tired, he might even confess his feelings.  Don’t try to get him to admit to it in the morning, he’s not ready to face that reality yet. All in all, he’s a lot softer- even if for Nam-gyu almost anything would be considered softer.  You can actually brag about him!  Are the brags extravagant?  Not at all, but he’s yours and you’re his, you love each other.

[webslingingslasher]

https://www.tumblr.com/webslingingslasher/745213915816935424/i-may-have-accidentally-sent-it-i-wasnt-looking-st

J, I’m definitely stalking a bunch of your older posts now, so I may be asking you some questions about certain things or bringing up things from a while ago (sorry in advance if I accidentally spam your inbox..)

buuut would you ever write a longer fic of what I added above?? I know this is getting niche in your own posts, just thought I’d put the ask out there 🥰😙

- 🐛

'wuh time iz it?'

you nearly choke on your spit. peter's voice this morning was so thick with sleep, the rasp broke up his words and slurred them together. you check your phone screen, '8:18' you have a feeling you woke him up. 'sorry, were my tik toks too loud again?'

'little bit.' he scooches closer to you while shuffling down his bed, he snuggles his head on your stomach and throws an arm over your hips. you turn your volume down two notches and rest your phone on his back to entertain you while you drag your hand through his hair and give him the head scratches he's silently begging for.

'i'm on tradwive tok and honestly, when i have kids i want to be a stay at home mom. maybe not forever but at least until they're all in school.' peter lowly hums, 'you can stay at home as long as you want with our kids... but only if i still get head scratches.'

'mhm. put that in the prenup.'

peter shakes his head, 'no prenup, just promises.'

his deep voice has your stomach swirling, or maybe it's the 'our kids' mention. or maybe it's that he doesn't need to put his words in a document to mean something, he'd follow through with it because he's a man of his word and he won't say anything he doesn't mean. 'as long as you talk to me every morning with that voice, you'll get head scratches.' he peeks his head up to look at you, it's for half a second before he's leveling himself back out, but the smile you saw cross his face was more cocky than sweet.

'the more i talk, the quicker i lose it.'

you pause your hand in his hair, it's a cardinal sin, he starts to lightly twitch in your hold. 'are you telling me to shut up?'

'never.' if you were standing, you'd melt to goo. one hard word, at least three notches below his normal tone. 'god, that's so hot.' peter's resting more and more weight on you, he's sleepy and not receptive to compliments at the moment. 'mhm.'

no matter what, head scratches always put him to sleep. you swipe on your phone, peter's back jumps at you again. 'no asmr.' loud whispers will raise him from the dead, you didn't know raspy sounded so nice when it was whiny. 'you complain too much for someone laying on me and getting their hair played with.'

'you're so good for me,' a chill spreads up your spine and you let out a shiver, praising plus peter's morning voice equals a very excited you. as if peter could sense it, he couldn't help but drum up the anticipation. 'and the second i wake up, i'll talk you through just how good you can be.' 

[lucy90712]

Please post some more imagines with Carlos

Wimbledon. This place will always have a special place in my heart. It gave me the best thing that ever happened to me my amazing boyfriend Carlos. We met completely by chance when we both got lost around the vast grounds and bumped into each other. His racket bag knocked me to the ground so he helped me up and took me back to his team as I had a cut on my leg from the gravel. Before I left we exchanged numbers and the rest is history. That year he invited me to a few of his games including the gruelling final which he won. That day he asked me on a date at the end of which he asked me to be his girlfriend before he had to leave for the next tournament. Things were tough for a while with the constant distance between us and how little time we got to spend together but we pushed through the hard times and now we are happier than ever. 

Coming back last year felt slightly odd because so much had changed from me queueing for hours just to get into the grounds to having a pass that allowed me into all sorts of places including the player box. Watching Carlos win again felt so surreal too. In his speech he mentioned me as his girlfriend for the first time which meant a whole lot of attention came my way but he stood by me throughout it all. 

Since last year things have been a little crazy I finished university and moved to Spain to live with Carlos right after. Some people might think that's insane as we haven't been together for two years just yet but I just know that he's the one. We've spent long enough apart that we are ready to be together and see each other more. We've been through so much together that it really feels like we've been together longer than we have and we know each other better than we know ourselves sometimes which is how I know we'll be just fine. Since I made the move I think I've spent less than a week total at my new home as Carlos has been travelling constantly for tournaments. 

This week we go back to the place that started it all. I don't think it will ever not feel strange going back and thinking about all the dominoes that fell into place for our paths to cross in the first place. We will forever be tied to this place even after Carlos retires we will always remember these days at Wimbledon that got us to where we are. 

Typically the few days of summer we get in England happen to fall right at the start of Wimbledon and I know Carlos struggles with the heat and humidity here but I know he can do it. He's had a good grass season so far but there's always the extra pressure that comes with being the defending champion which makes everything so much more intense. Last night Carlos was really worried about his match but I kept him calm and did everything in my power to help him get some sleep. 

When we woke up Carlos still seemed stressed about his match which isn't unusual for him but the way he's acting felt odd. He wasn't nervous in his usual way normally it's good nerves the ones they get him extra motivated to play but this time it's different. While I got ready he was pacing around the room and biting his nails which he only does when he's really nervous. I wracked my brain trying to think if there was anything about today that might make him more nervous than usual but nothing came to mind. It can't be being the opening match on centre court as he did that last year and he's beat Fognini before sure not on grass but he's just as good on grass as he is on clay. During breakfast he didn't get any better he didn't say a word to anyone the whole time he was completely in his own world clearly with something on his mind that he won't share.

"Y/n can we talk a second?" Juan Carlos asked as we left the hotel 

"Yeah what’s up" I said 

"Have you and Carlos has a fight or something or has anything happened?" He asked 

"No nothing happened he was a bit nervous last night but I helped calm him down but when we woke up he was like this I have no idea what's going on" I said 

"I didn't think it involved you but I couldn't think of anything else" Juanki said 

"If there's anything I can do to help let me know I don't want him going out on court feeling like this if we can help" I said 

"Of course I'll keep you updated" he said giving me a hug before we headed to the car taking us all to Wimbledon 

Once we got there Carlos went to go and warm up and I left him to be with his team. As much as I wanted to stay and make sure he's ok I thought it was best to give him some time in case there is something I did to upset him. There was nothing for me to do other than wait until Carlos' match which left me with a lot of time to think, maybe too much. My mind went straight to everything that could be wrong the second I found somewhere quiet to sit by myself. In the time I was sat there I managed to convince myself that Carlos wanted to break up with me but didn't know how to do it since I just moved to a new country for him. Part of me always wondered if we moved too fast and eventually that would catch up with us and now maybe it has maybe Carlos regrets it all but doesn't know how to say it. 

By the time I had to head to centre court I was a mess too but I knew I had to pull it together and at least make it look like I have my life together in front of the camera. Juan Carlos greeted me and told me that they hadn't managed to get through to Carlos which only made me feel worse. He did say that Carlos seemed in the zone when they left him so hopefully whatever's on his mind won't affect him playing. Carlos walked out on court and he looked like his normal happy self smiling and waving at the crowd but then he looked up and we locked eyes and I watched his smile falter. In that moment I made my mind up that all of this is my fault and I thought about leaving but I know that would cause other issues so I stayed in my seat trying to hold back tears. 

As soon as the match started I just knew we'd be here a while as Carlos was missing shots he could make with his eyes closed. He was nowhere near his best but he won the first set with a late break but still it was obvious that something was wrong and everyone in got crowd could tell. Juanki tried to help Carlos but he didn't seem to be listening. Things didn't get any better either as Carlos lost the second set but he came back swinging for the third set which again was close but went Carlos' way. 

It was so hot that I think everyone in the crowd was wishing this match to be over soon but it wasn't to be. Part of me wanted the match to finish so I can talk to Carlos to find out what's going on with him but then another part of me almost doesn't want to know especially if he's going to break up with me. Carlos clearly didn't want to be done with the match either as he lost the fourth set 6-2. By that point the entire box was stressed thinking that Carlos might lose in the first round. Juanki looked like he wanted to pull his hair out and Carlos' brother looked incredibly stressed. I managed to pick enough skin off my fingers to make them bleed but 4 and a half hours later it was over and Carlos got the win. 

Like always he had to do his cool down and then all his media obligations so all I could do was wait in our spot. After every match since we met I've always waited for him in this spot so he would know where to find me if he wanted to. This sport reminds me of so many moments in our relationship it's where we shared our first kiss and where he asked me to move in with him after I finished uni. Despite it just being a small table and two chairs hidden away in the main building at Wimbledon it's a place that will always hold good memories. 

Eventually a figure appeared in my peripheral vision which could only be one person. As he approached he actually had a smile on his face but he was still playing with his fingers like he was nervous. He gave me a tight hug when he got to me which really relaxed me from the panic I've been feeling pretty much all day. He just held me for a solid minute before he pulled away slightly and looked straight into my eyes with a look of pure love and adoration which I'm used to seeing. 

"Hey that was a tough match out there" I said 

"Yeah it was tough but it's good to be challenged early on" he said 

"Are you ok you seemed extra nervous today" I probed lightly 

"Yeah I'm ok just had something on my mind" he said still not opening up

"You know you can tell me about anything right I'll always be in your corner supporting you" I said 

He didn't respond to that he just looked at me like he was debating something in his own head. He moved his hands from my waist to hold both my hands before time seemed to slow to a crawl as I watched him get down on one knee. I think I went through nearly every emotion before I settled on shock. Suddenly it all made sense the way Carlos was acting around me all day and why he insisted we visit my parents before Wimbledon even though it was out of our way. It also explains why he went out a few weeks ago and wouldn't tell me where he was going and why he started putting away all the laundry randomly after that day. 

One of his hands let go of mine to reach into his pocked to pull out a small velvet box. Inside was the most beautiful ring it wasn't huge but that's exactly what I wanted it had a diamond in the middle and what looked like both our birthstones either side. Instantly I knew he'd had the ring custom made which almost had me crying before he even said anything because he clearly thought about this moment a lot wanting it to be perfect. 

"Y/n from the moment we bumped into each other here two years ago I knew I liked you but I'd never have predicted I'd have fallen for you so fast but now I can't imagine my life without you in it I know we haven't been together long but there's no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with so will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?" He said 

"Y-yes a million times yes" I said as he slid the ring on my finger

"I'm sorry I've been so distant today I knew I wanted to do this today but I was worried that maybe you wouldn't be ready and you'd say no" he said 

"I would never say no I love you more than words can describe I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you" I said 

"Good because you can't get rid of me now" he joked 

"I guess I can live with that" I laughed 

We spent some time soaking up the moment before heading to find the rest of the team who were all eagerly awaiting our return. I'm sure the smiles on our faces gave it away but still Carlos announced that I said yes and suddenly everyone was looking at my ring. Carlos also FaceTimed my parents to show them the ring. It was such a happy moment that it made me forget all about the stress of the day and reminded me why this place will always be extra special for us. 

[fractale-circuit]

ERMMM ERMM ERMMMM hello 👋 how do u interpret hanks soft side 😁 also do you characterize the hanks (e.g. mc6 hank vs mc7 hank) any differently?

ohhh.. ohoho. i like this one. i like this one dearly. this is going to get lengthy.

i think i remember it being canon in some way shape or form.. krink stream maybe? that 2b is the one who sees their soft side, and i 100% agree. not just as a 2bhank enthusiast but also because that's your medic, if he's going to nurse your wounds you can't bite his face off big guy. easy.

but even so, calling it soft is.. somewhat of a stretch. hank doesn't really know "soft", they know neutral tolerance at best. softness with 2b is merely obeying. allowing themselves to trust his word and that he doesn't intend to hurt them is frankly further than they've ever been with anybody.

with time, though.. if i can cheat and give a bit of a cop out.. they learn to express gratitude in their own very peculiar ways. there isn't much of a space between soft and unsafe by way of their attachment.. hank can get brutal when they've realized how much they like you. they flip back and forth between those expressions like a metronome. nice borderline personality disorder, wimbleton, did your parents give it to you? ..oh.. wait.

as for differences in their various states.. absolutely. i love writing them going through these exceedingly fucked up seasons of life. i struggle to remember what exactly happened in what episode (fake fan.. OTL) so bear with my descriptions.

hank pre.. mc6 i think? pre metal jaw situation; perpetually annoyed, full of stupid quips, unafraid to speak their mind. will tell you to fuck off and all the directions you should take to do it if they don't kill you first. dislikes include authority figures and anybody in their business. they aren't exactly cold i wouldn't say, but not approachable.

hank post metal jaw situation; much, much quieter. more of a soft seethe than a blinding aggressive rage. they don't talk much if at all anymore, initially due to the pain but over time they just prefer the silence. things aren't worth words, but they think much more intricately, the quiet allows them to do that now. it sort of causes them to slow down in a way.. not physically, but mentally. still not approachable and just as ready to kill first ask questions later, but.. they're painfully aware. yet still so numb..

i have yet to toy with MAG hank very much, but i think that stage would be more of a mix of the other two.. to give a sort of demonstration with how those stages look compared to one another (and hopefully not go on more tangents explaining my madness fic timeline because jebediah christoff this is long..) the former fic i linked here, along with its currently only entry in my main series, is set after hank loses their jaw. the latter and its accompanying beginning are set before.

i really do think that injury sticks with them most because it was their first "permanent" damage.. even for somebody so steeped in violence, that's jarring. it changes the entire game and makes you wonder what else can happen to you that's suddenly irreversible.

thank you very much for the ask! as you can see, i am.. thoroughly diseased about this one's psychology. cheers.

[aritsukemo]

Hello! I'm not sure if I can ask, but I would like to read about alnst Luka x mute!reader.

It would be interesting to see their relationship, if Luka became interested in the mute reader and how their relationship would develop. A little obsession, only instead of Hena, the reader

(Sorry for my English, I don't speak it very well)

Luka w/ a mute!reader

Summary: What is like dealing with Luka as a mute person? What was it like before and after getting into a relationship with him?

Warnings: Luka in love and all that entails. That said, read at your own discretion.

A/N: Started this after reading the translation for the most recent comic ughhh till you make me so ill and ivantill is no better. Also, sorry if this isn't what you were expecting/wanted. I tried my best to not derail and turn this into something completely unrelated to your request 😅

Tagging: @tragedy-of-commons, @snowy-violet

Extra: I officially have a taglist! If you liked this piece, please consider grabbing a loyalty card at the front counter!! <3

↪ Luka is someone who grew up learning of love via lengthy book explanations and childish romance stories. He's someone who was so starved of light that he latches onto it and never lets go the moment his fingertips have the chance to so much as graze it regardless of how bright or warm it actually feels to his skin. He has an obsessive attachment style that's suffocating, selfish, and is as hot as a blazing wildfire.

↪ All that's to say that if you're the one to be his light, nothing will make you uninteresting or any less lovely in his eyes. To him, if god was real, no doubt they'd look, feel, and be you. Talking verbally is really a null factor for someone like Luka.

↪ I imagine you met him when you were both still buds waiting to sprout into beautiful flowers. The easiest scenario to imagine is if you were like Hyuna and Hyunwoo and went out of your way to hang out with him when other kids didn't — again, being that sole light in his cold, dark world.

↪ I can also imagine Luka growing on someone who's willing to stand up for him/protect him. It'll especially get his mind turning when he realizes you can't or don't talk because that meant you put yourself through such a great inconvenience for someone like him. To that, you'd be like a guardian angel in his eyes — or at least, what he'd imagine an angel would look like.

↪ However it happened, once Luka starts familiarizing himself with the chemical reaction known as love and starts characterizing you in the equation of it, nothing will stop his heart from beating to your every breath and glance.

↪ Backtracking a bit, when you first conveyed to him that you're mute, Luka replies with a silent nod of his head. Luka isn't really one of many words. Furthermore, he doesn't get that sense of awkwardness that arises with silence like some others tend to. Quietude is more like a childhood home than a stranger to him, after all.

↪ For the most part, time spent with Luka around that time would consist of you both simply basking in each others' presence — maybe you drawing while he fiddles with his rubik's cube or some other trinket he tends to idle himself with. When topics arise via a pencil and paper, hand gestures, or whatever you use to express yourself, Luka will answer in a low, almost bored sounding tone of voice ( it's not that he actually is bored, it's merely what his voice sounds like when he's not actively forcing emotion into the tune his vocal cords produce ) before returning to tranquil silence.

↪ Now, post-crush Luka isn't much different. He invades your personal space more and talks more animatedly, occasionally stopping entirely to simply stare and admire you, but for the most part, you two sit comfortably in silence until you feel the need to express yourself. Same with when you get into a relationship, but like, ten times worse.

↪ This is where the problem lies. Luka doesn't understand the gravity of boundaries. He was never given the basic right to have any — and while he knows the textbook definition of what a boundary is and what it may consist of, he doesn't get the weight of having one crossed as he's too numb to having each and every one of his trampled before he could ever put a name to them.

↪ I imagine that Luka can get very touchy with someone he adores and his partner would be his common, and probably sole, victim of his physical affection. All lines are a blur to him and his light kisses can quickly turn smothering and hugs can become constricting and crushing if not stopped. That said, it's up to you to decide whether you want a line to be drawn, where to draw it, and if you want to convey what you're okay and not okay with.

↪ Another thing that could be difficult to deal with is just how isolating Luka can be. His idea of love is twisted, self-centered, and self-serving. He believes that this ray of light he's been blessed with should only be for him to bathe under. That you are only for him and no one else. That said, jealousy could flare up at a drop of a hat and Luka's unpredictability can be nerve-wracking to deal with, moreso for someone who can't verbally deescalate things.

↪ On the brighter side of things, Luka is very attentive to all that applies to you! He doesn't see anything involving you as an inconvenience and will do anything you request of him. Need him to learn sign language so communicating would be easier? He'll immediately drop everything to start practicing! He's a really fast learner in everything that's not humans and their emotions so he'll be able to hold conversation with you in a matter of days to weeks ( though it would be at the cost of his sleep because he'll literally pull all nighters and spend every waking idle moment he has alone practicing for you )

↪ If you're more of an artistic person who likes to draw pictures to express what vocally cannot be conveyed, he keeps every drawing and plasters them along his walls, giving the stale tile pops of color and life he couldn't give it before. At night, he'll stare at them longingly. Daydreaming, fantasizing about, and yearning for you — and all with a wide, almost crazed smile stretching along his skin and a thick, dizzying blush staining his cheeks a hot red.

↪ All in all, dealing with Luka is like a road with twice as many downs as there is ups and being mute could turn those downs into rocky, bumpy terrain. It's up to you to decide whether you're willing to cross that terrain, and if you do, to decide if you're willing to stand on the other end — bleeding and bruised — and allow Luka to embrace you with this aberrant, depraved, odd feeling he's tacked the word love to.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[taviacoolcat]

So I was thinking about jerejean omegaverse and your post a few days back about omega Jeremy Knox being the only omega captain 🙂‍↕️ and I had the MOST DIABOLICAL thought I needed to share

So: omega Jeremy goes pro. And he ends up on a team far away from Jean and Cat and Laila, where he's the only omega there; and management and the coaches and the captain there know he's good BUT they're also very conservative and they tell him, "Your scent is stinking up the locker room and distracting the others" and "if you want to stay here, you need to use suppressants" (ofc these suppressants are very bad for him)

WHAT THEN

oh my god omega jeremy being a dei hire for a pro team 😭😭😭

but for real, jeremy knows what's going on here, but this is his first year in the pros and he's being told it's for his own safety which worries him (are his alpha teammates truly that uncontrollable?) and so while his manager is trying to argue that wasn't in his contract, jeremy agrees to take the suppressants but ☝️ only if his contract is changed to end after this first season instead of the two year one he originally signed. the pro team tries to change his mind, but his manager backs him up, threatening to discuss the ethical and legal ramifications of forcing a player on suppressants if they don't let him go, and so jeremy's contract is officially changed.

jeremy being jeremy, he does Not tell his friends anything besides he's being traded to a new team at the end of the season. jeremy just has to deal with this for a few months, so he'll be Fine! :)

except laila+cat+jean all notice when all of their visiting plans start falling through, jeremy has an excuse every time. laila'a pro team is in a different division, and they never meet on the court. and when watching one of his games, jean quietly points out how tired he looks. they all know something is wrong, and that they won't get a straight answer from jeremy, so with rhemann's support they plan a suprise visit to one of jeremy's teams last games in the season...where none of them have good reactions when they finally smell jeremy in person for the first time in months. 😕

jeremy herds them back to his apartment before he says anything because he knows the three of will take this directly to his team's management if they get the opportunity 😭 the ride to his place doesn't calm any of them and jeremy explaining pisses them off even more, laila starts arguing the legal implications like jeremy's manager did while cat curses meathead alphas but jean is silent in his seething. jeremy tries to push back that this is what he agreed to and that it's only for a few more weeks, and laila tells him he should have told them when it happened and cat calls him an idiot and jean is still silent.

it's not until the girls finally go to bed in jeremy's room while he and jean take his couches, that jeremy asks in the dark what jean is thinking, and jean is quiet for a long moment more before he says, "they are ignorant fools who you should have not have humored, and i will never forgive their biggest sin of forcing you to hide yourself from me."

jeremy doesn't sleep for a long time after that.

[stvr-bloom]

ellie williams x f!reader

summary: early mornings with your girlfriend before patrol

tw: none, tooth rotting fluff

a/n: my first post! just a little drabble. please give me feedback send requests lovelies, it would be greatly appreciated 🤍🤍

Ellie Williams loved patrol. There was no denying it. She loved the thrill of job and the responsibility of protecting the people of Jackson. Before she could finally join the patrolling team, she had to beg Joel for a singular shift. However, all of this was before you.

Her girlfriend.

And now, it was Sunday morning and the love of her life had slept over the night before (literally what more could she ask for?). The early morning sun was peeking through the corners of the curtains, the birds were singing and completely ready for the day (spoiler alert: ellie was not).

Ellie slowly woke up from the feeling of you shifting under her arm. She rubbed her eyes and glanced over at the alarm clock. It read 6:15AM. She had patrol in 45 minutes

Fuck.

She looks over at you, the sun is catching your face just slightly. You look absolutely ethereal to Ellie. You always do. It’s mornings like these when the safety of her bed feels like your own fragment of the universe where the only people that matter are the two of you. These kinds of mornings are Ellie’s favourite (even more so when she doesn’t have patrol to interrupt them)

You begin to stir as Ellie’s arm tightens around you from behind. She’s ready to forget about her responsibilities and hide with you all day, which is a kind of day she would never ever complain about. A day with you is like a dream she never wants to wake up from. Your eyes open, taking a few moments to adjust to the reality of actually being conscious at this time of morning.

You turned around in her arms and are met with the familiar pair of pale green eyes you fell in love with many moons ago. Just the sight of her makes you smile, no matter the time of day it is or how tired you are. You put your arm over her waist as you look at her for the first time today, cuddling her in return.

“Good morning, Ells” you say, not even trying to hide your smile.

She gives you a squeeze as she holds your lovestruck gaze with her own. She’ll never know how she got so lucky.

“Hey baby” she replies, a small smile gracing her lips.

You tuck your head into her neck, ready to go to sleep again. However as much as you would like to do this, you are aware of the fact that Ellie had patrol. You’re also aware of Ellie’s streak of being late for patrol when you stay over.

“When are you getting up for patrol” you murmur, nose pressed underneath her jaw. Obviously you didn’t want her to go. How could you? Cuddles all morning with your girlfriend is the ideal any day of the week regardless. However, you know how important patrol is and how much she loves it when she’s actually doing the patrolling shes supposed to do. Whether she’s missing you terribly or not.

“Don’t remind me” she groans, tilting her head back on her pillow.

You giggle, propping yourself up on your elbow looking down at her. With your free hand, you place it on her cheek and guided her gaze to your own.

“I really wish you didn’t have to go though.” you say, looking at her.

“I don’t know about that sweetheart, sounds like you can’t wait to get rid of me” she replies, not even trying to hide her smirk and her hand tracing circles on your back.

You laugh, throwing your head back. She thinks you look heavenly. She can’t quite believe this is her forever.

“Hey you know that’s not true! I love you too much.” You say back, still giggling slightly but holding her gaze with a love struck look in your eye.

“I know.” She replies, without missing a beat. Your love for each other is very apparent. You never miss an opportunity to share that with each other, especially knowing the world you live in. Anything could happen, any day could be your last.

“I love you too” she adds, eyes glancing to your lips every so often.

Your smile widens.

Her hand reaches up to hold the back of your head, gently pulling you down to meet her lips for the first time that morning (and the first of many that day).

Her kisses are your favourite thing in the world.

You pull back, looking at her once more. Your hand is on her cheek with your thumb slowly stroking it.

Instead of getting up, she wraps her hands around your waist again, bringing you back down to her chest. You let out a squeal at the sudden movement, quickly turning to laughter coming from the both of you.

Patrol? Patrol can wait at this moment in time. Ellie just needs a little more time with her favourite girl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: ahhh I hope you liked it!! I know this isn’t great but this is my first attempt at writing. I’m so grateful if you made it this far. Feedback would be greatly appreciated 🤍🤍

[julietcpulet]

Hello! Sorry to barge into your asks. From your account, it seems you get a significant amount almost every day? Lol! I can see why though. Your analyses are good reads and I have some of them saved up in my computer in case I meet an anti in the wild 🤣

Anyway, I want to know your opinion on something. Do you think the reason they downplayed Maomao's depression/the pinky scene in the anime is the same reason why they downplay Jinshi's numerous SA experiences as well? I don't mean this in a racist way, I swear, but do you think it has something to do with the majority of Asians, specifically East Asians, glossing over mental health and feelings? I'm not saying they don't treat it seriously but I think they don't exactly talk about it that much (unless they absolutely have to), as opposed to people in the West.

I'm not well versed in Japanese or anime troupes, but I think this is common in their mediums? Of course it seems unusual to me, but I can't find any other explanation for it unfortunately.

No barging here at all 😂 I love getting asks from people and makes me glad to know you’ve liked my posts enough to save them! As for the pinky scene, I think there’s two possible reasons why it was downplayed, of course only speculation on my part since we don’t actually know but here are my theories:

The shojo genre - Apothecary Diaries is a narrative with many mature themes and sometimes scenes that are hard to watch, not even from an inappropriate standpoint but merely because of the topics covered like underage marriage and political scheming turned violent. However, the anime itself is labeled as shojo and this demographic is targeted towards young girls which, while it can range from mid-teens to I believe young adults, say 20s or so, it’s still meant to be relatively mild in tone. As such any scenes depicting something like what Jinshi experienced where someone attempted to assault him when he was young might not be shown, as it would be difficult to make something like that palatable or come across with the seriousness it needed to while not being frightening to a younger female audience. So instead it is easier to make gags out of women or even men being creepy towards him in a lighthearted way vs showing the reality of some of those interactions.

More than one woman had sneaked into his bedchamber, after all. He’d found himself pressed to their generous chests, moist red lips coming toward him. He’d been nauseated by the overpowering smell of incense. He remembered the guards dragging those people away by the hair as they screeched. He’d tried to ignore them, but he felt he knew womankind through and through.

The same goes for Maomao’s pinky moment. Where it appears in the light novel like it’s meant to have a decidedly darker feeling behind her actions, that depiction of self-harm being subconsciously intentional vs played as a quirky gag for laughs would probably not work in the shojo genre.

"She'd made several new wounds on her left arm to test some of them out, but she just couldn't quite get the outcome she wanted. She'd even tried rubbing some of her concoction onto the wound on her ear (why let it go to waste, after all?), but it didn't tell her much. After all these years, she seemed to have developed a pretty high tolerance for pain."

In a time where people are so sensitive to trigger warnings before shows and anything that hints at a character hurting themselves, I think they intentionally steer away from that direction because they don’t want to have to censor anything due to sensibilities, especially on a Western side. Even if that moment can be helpful to a character’s development, I get playing it off because audiences today can struggle to get the subtleties underlying the scene (like the frog moment) and so be incensed when in reality the complexities of it are what make the moment good in the first place. So instead better to make it a gag and keep to the targeted age range.

Misunderstanding the meaning - While I give the animators a lot of credit for capturing the depth of the characters while not being able to include all of Maomao’s internal dialogue and feelings, I wonder if sometimes there are scenes where they didn’t quite get the significance behind it. The whole pinky moment has impact because it relates back to Maomao’s mother and how she had severed her own finger and Maomao’s due to her emotional pain and despondency. So, for Maomao to do the same shows a parallel between them in that moment when she’s separated from what she’s known at the rear palace and distinctly, Jinshi.

"Got to cut deeper if I want to be sure. Maomao looked at her left hand, then tied some string firmly around her pinky. She stood and took a small knife from a cabinet. Here goes!"

It’s the cut off emotionally from relationships that bring her comfort to the cutting off literally of her finger that’s meant to draw us into understanding Maomao’s state at the time. How she’s numb, detached and isolated until Jinshi walks back into her life, getting her to immediately come back to herself and interact with him.

"Just as she was about to bring the knife down, a beautiful voice interrupted her: "What are you doing?" - "Done with all your work?" Maomao asked, undoing the string around her finger and putting the knife back in the cabinet."

Placing the moment solely in the realm of Maomao experimenting because she’s got a quirky affinity for medicine vs. her experimenting due to deep emotional pain to me says they either felt uncomfortable drawing the connection with her mother or may have not made that link at all, so funny was the safer route.

As for Jinshi, the significance of showing times where he was dragged into the bushes or had strange people attempt to hurt him would give greater depth to the idea that he’s not just a pretty face who uses his looks to charm people, or that he himself is predatory towards others, especially Maomao. Because if we understand how much predation he’s been subjected to due to his own looks and his disgust towards it, that allows the audience to see how he feels a true distaste for the way people see and act towards him even more than we already do.

"Gaoshun had looked away for an instant, and Jinshi had found himself dragged into the underbrush. - The man had wanted to make Jinshi his toy. Jinshi wasn't sure how it had started, but it had been clear he was in danger."

In this way I don’t know if the animators simply felt that they could convey Jinshi’s backstory adequately without these parts of his past or if they didn’t understand these kinds of moments add to the layers of his character and without them people may only believe the surface without having read the novels. Again, I understand why they maybe couldn’t have included them given the worry of potentially conveying something too dark in how they chose to animate it and genre restrictions. However, I also wonder if maybe they avoided it because they don’t feel it’s significant due to him being a male character and wanting to play up his “nymph-like” side for laughs vs getting the audience to understand how much of that Jinshi dislikes.

Overall I don’t think this is an Asian culture vs Western culture thing in relation to denying mental health or feelings. While the West tends to focus more on emotion, letting feelings be the driving force, sometimes to our detriment, Asian culture does less so and puts emphasis on rational thought and taking action which isn’t always a bad thing.

Often I’ve found the Western proclivity to over-emphasize the importance of feelings can lead to people not considering decisions and “going with their heart” which is likely to lead them astray if people don’t weigh consequences of their actions. On the Asian side people can be hyper-rational and only make decisions almost without emotion, leading to dysfunction based on not seeming like they’ve met any needs or wants but just practical necessities. In this way it’s best to find a balance of both, where feelings matter and have some say but are not the final determining factor in decisions or how a person behaves.

How this relates to anime culture and Apothecary Diaries is that I actually find anime in general a refreshing break from the Western ethic of “navel gazing” or focusing too much on the self and personal feelings. Much of Japanese anime appears to contrast this and promote focus on and selflessness towards others, taking action to protect and be there for other people even at the cost of something for yourself.

Hope this answers your questions, that was an interesting one to dive into thinking about the cultures. Thanks for the ask!

[dilly-dahlia]

Heya, I saw your event post and got super excited bc I love it when my fav fic authors do stuff like this! Would you be willing to do Backyard Boy for Laurance? I don't really have anything else specific to request, just go crazy if you so choose :)

Everything is Perfect

pairing: Laurance x Reader

content: during their college years, suggestive, friends with benefits situation, friends to lovers, i did accidentally sprinkle angst in here, sorry, definitely not beta read

summary: Your favorite place in the entire world was your summer beach house, though the fact that a certain brown-haired boy with sparkling eyes may have played a major role in that bias.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: yesss anon this is brilliant the gears were turning I had so much fun writing this

masterlist

300 milestone event | event masterlist

There was nothing you loved more than riding in Laurance's car with the wind against your face. He had a convertible—a nice one—and when the summer season rolled around he very rarely put the cover up. He would turn the radio to a station that played old pop songs and the music would blast through the speakers as he rode through the streets with you.

It was nice. Your favorite car ride was always the first one when the two of you finally reunited after the school year. You attended different campuses, and even though the two of you had every way imaginable to reach out to each other, nothing could beat the time you spent actually in the other's presence.

The beach party your parents threw every year during summer's first week fell second to your favorite thing. And that was really only because Laurance was almost always by your side. That was why you and Laurance often had this first car ride, actually. Ever since he'd gotten his license his own parents sent him on every errand imaginable. You always tagged along.

Cadenza would normally join the two of you, but Laurance's sister had recently found herself enamored. She had opted to spend the first half of summer back in the city with her interest. You weren't entirely upset, seeing as it gave you an excuse to spend time alone with Laurance.

The first couple minutes were always awkward. It was time spent asking dry questions like How are you? How was the school year? Are you excited for summer? Time spent getting used to being together again.

The first car ride to the closest Walmart (which was a whopping hour long drive away) always dissipated the tension, and it never took long for the two of you to fall back into your usual routine. By the time you returned to your families beach houses, neither of you could stop talking to each other.

Of course, talking turned to teasing, and sometimes that teasing would turn to touches that lingered for just a little too long.

"Laurance! The water's cold!"

You really loved the beach side party your parents threw. Your parents made an assortment of pastries and grilled hot dogs and hamburger patties. Laurance's dads made mouth watering brisket and charcuterie boards. You decorated the beach with fairy lights and whatever else you picked up from the store. Every time you did, Laurance would find bothering you to be the most amusing thing in the world.

It was. You were so easy to rile up that you would often drop the decorating altogether just to chase him into the ocean and get him back. Sometimes you would get lucky enough to be able to tackle him to the sand, the waves lapping across both of you and soiling whatever outfit you had chosen to wear.

When the sun painted the sky in hues of orange and violet as it set and the people that wandered into your party mingled around the bonfire, you and Laurance often found yourselves drifting away. It was something you had done since you started high school, and anyone that cared noticed.

They never said anything.

They let the two of you pretend you were stealthy in sneaking away, but they must have been blind to not notice the change in atmosphere when the two of you were seen again the next day.

There was a concealed alcove just a five minute walk away from the beach houses. Everyone knew about it and sometimes you would find another couple that snuck away for a private moment, but tonight it was just you and Laurance.

The sand was finer there. During the day you were sure it would shine golden, too, since that picturesque image was the only thing you could imagine that matched the light and airy feeling you got every time you were there wirh Laurance.

Sometimes, mostly after long conversations about what had been pressing against your hearts since you last saw each other, the two of you would sit in silence. Your feet would be at the ocean’s edge and you would relish in the coolness of the salty water washing against your skin. Laurance would fidget with the bracelet around his wrist (one you'd made him to match your own) and occasionally steal a glance at you.

"Can I kiss you?"

He always asked that. It had started as a joke however many years ago when his friend Garroth had dared him to. He asked at least once every summer after that, always waiting for your cheeky rejection and never expecting a serious answer.

It took him by surprise when, the summer after you'd both graduated high school, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. Now he asked any time you found yourselves alone.

In that alcove that only belonged to the two of you, it always started soft. His lips would be gentle against yours, his hands tentative and almost hesitant to touch you. But he would always gain the confidence to pull you closer. He always slid you so close you sat in his lap and then he'd lie back against the velvety sand.

You would thread your fingers through his hair to press his body firmer against yours. His breath would hitch and he would part his lips just enough. The tips of his fingers would brush against your shoulders, ghosting along your spine with a featherlight touch that made you shudder and arch into him until—

Well, you get the idea.

After, the two of you would lazily pull your clothes back on and lie too close in the sand and look up at the stars. The party would be long over by now, but neither of you would be able to bring yourselves away from the moment. It was yours and yours alone. You didn't want it tainted by anything as trivial as the end of a party.

"Just friends?" you would always ask. Your voice would come out as a whisper for fear of shattering the fragile moment. Because back in Phoenix Drop Laurance had a beautiful on-and-off girlfriend he was conveniently never dating when summer rolled around. But sometimes, the faintest light of hope would fall through the cracks. Like you wanted more but couldn't risk destroying what you already had for it.

"Just friends," Laurance would agree. His tone would match yours in softness, hoping to preserve those fleeting seconds in a time capsule. Because back in Phoenix Drop there was a beautiful girl waiting for the text he always sent at the beginning of August like clockwork. But sometimes, the way he said just friends sounded sad. Longing. Like he wanted more but couldn't bear the thought of asking for it.

You always brushed it off and told yourself you were imagining things.

—

You and Laurance were close. Somehow, he was always touching you. Whether it was an arm slung across your shoulders or linking his pinky with yours, Laurance couldn’t stand when you were in the same space as him and his hands weren’t on you in some way.

He was always warm. His fingertips were calloused and he had a bump on his ring finger from where his pencil rested when he wrote, but he was still soft. You still wanted him to constantly touch you and found yourself longing for it when he wasn’t.

You didn’t have feelings for him. That’s what you thought, at least. That was disproven when the two of you went to a nearby flea market and ten separate people asked if you were dating. It was hardly that, it was moreso the fact that you had seen the most gorgeous set of china plates and Laurance promised he’d get them for you when you lived with him.

He was joking about that. He always was. But something about that time made you feel fizzy and bright. For one delusional second, you let yourself believe that he truly intended to live with you.

When you fully realized the extent of your feelings on the ride home, you were appalled with yourself. How could you have developed feelings for someone you considered to be your best friend?

After that revelation had hit you in the face as hard as a rock, you started to notice the little things. Like the way Laurance always went first and made sure you followed close behind when the two of you travelled to new places. Or how he always offered to eat whatever food you hadn’t off your plate when you got full. You never had to ask if he wanted it, he always just took it when you pushed the plate away from yourself.

He also always asked to kiss you. Every time. He never went in without intent or explicit consent. It didn’t matter if the two of you had been making out just a few minutes ago—if he wanted to kiss you again he would always ask.

And, strangely enough, the trips you took into town together started to feel more and more like dates as the days passed. Laurance always paid. He always pointed out things he thought you might like. He held doors open and kept you close to him.

Anyone else would have said you were dating.

Maybe that was why one day you asked him, “What are we?” You were lying in a hammock, gently swinging back and forth every time a gust of wind blew past. Laurance sat on the concrete beside you, book open and looking handsome as ever while he read.

He peered over his shoulder at you, brows furrowed as he took in your question. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. You knew you should probably look at him, but you didn’t want to. His celestite gaze would pierce through your heart and you weren’t sure you could take that. Not in that moment, anyway. “I mean, we kiss.”

The fact that your only defense was we kiss was pathetic. You didn’t even sound sure of that fact when the words left your mouth. Immediately you regretted even responding and not just brushing the question away like your feelings.

Slowly, Laurance closed his book. You got a peek at the dark cover, but he tucked it against his side before you could read the title. It was probably something for a class he was taking. It was thick and if you knew Laurance, you knew he would never willingly pick something that long up.

“Just friends,” Laurance had replied. He sounded pained to say it, though. Like it physically hurt him to have those words leave his lips.

“And go on dates,” you added, hoping it would make him rethink what he wanted. “Well, they feel like dates at least. And we sneak away every chance we get. It just . . . It doesn’t feel very friendly.”

Laurance blinked at you. For a moment, you wished that you could read minds just so you could know what the brunette was thinking. His pale eyes shimmered like the ocean’s surface in the rays of the sun. They were all you were willing to see, despite your adamance about not wanting to before.

“Um . . .” He faltered. Truthfully, he was trying to come up with something to avoid his feelings. Because he did have an on-and-off girlfriend waiting for him to flick it on again back in Phoenix Drop. For a moment, he considered bringing Michi up. Just to avoid admitting how he felt.

He couldn’t bring himself to. Not when you were looking at him with eyes that looked like they would fill with tears if he gave the wrong answer. He couldn’t lie to you.

“We do,” he agreed, and he gave a brief nod that he hoped would give him a second to collect his thoughts. It didn’t, and the unspoken words remained a scrambled mess that was becoming impossible to organize into sentences.

“So . . .” You trailed off. There was a question in the air, though you weren’t entirely sure what it was. It could still be what are we, but some part of you also meant to ask if he still wanted to be with Michi. If he even wanted you at all or if he just considered you a fling to have every summer. Someone to let loose with.

Laurance cleared his throat. His full attention was on you and you suddenly wished that he wasn’t always so attentive when speaking to others. That sometimes he might glance away nervously, but no. The eye contact he held with you was steadfast and unyielding.

“What do you want us to be?”

Your breath caught and the beating of your heart sped up. It was pounding so hard you could hear the blood rushing in your ears. You should have expected him to ask that, but it surprised you.

“Uhm . . .” You were the flustered one now. Your mouth felt dry and your previously racing mind was now void of any thoughts. “I-I want to be more than friends.”

It was a soft, quiet admission. Your voice was a whisper and Laurance would have had a hard time understanding if his eyes hadn’t flicked down to your lips so he could read them. His mouth fell slightly agape, and when his gaze met yours once more his pupils were dilated.

“Okay,” he said, and that was that. He gave a curt, almost awkward nod before repeating the word. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He nodded again, though this time he seemed more sure of himself.

“Okay what?” you asked. Sure, it was an answer, but you weren’t sure if it was an okay, let’s date or an okay, it’s cool that you wanna be more than friends but I don’t I hope that’s okay.

Maybe you were overthinking this.

“Let’s try it.”

You couldn’t help it when your lips curled up into the sweetest smile Laurance had ever seen. The amused breath you let out sounded like bells, and as Laurance continued he wanted nothing more than to hear it again.

“We’ll go on a date. A real one, where we both know what it is.” He flashed you a boyish grin of his own. “And we’ll start dating.”

“Just for the summer?” Your voice sounded hopeful and you were scared it would come across as you truly wanting it just for the summer. Just a passing fling that would dissipate when the school year started and be completely forgotten about by the time you saw him again.

Laurance’s grin faltered, and he cleared his throat to gather himself. "Sure. If that's what you want."

It wasn't what you wanted, but Laurance seemed so quick to agree that you didn't want to tell him that and then freak him out. So you only offered a soft nod.

Laurance gently took your hand in his and brought it up to his lips.`He met your gaze with a starstruck smile before standing and pulling you out of your hammock.

"Where are we going?" You let him pull you to your feet without much complaint or resistance.

"Our date," he said. He flashed you another charming smile, and you couldn't help but return it.

—

Laurance ended up taking you to a local cafe that served sweet pastries and smelled like wildflowers. He picked a booth by the window and didn't let a single second of awkward silence come between you two the entire time you sat there.

You never officially got together, but anyone could see the change in air when the two of you were around. It had always been secret feelings and skirting around the bush, but now you were more obvious. You laughed without care and made lingering touches more obvious. When Cadenza finally joined your families for the summer, it was the first thing she commented on.

"You and Laurance seem really close," she'd said. You'd taken her to one of the popular smoothie shops in town. "More than usual."

You didn't say anything, but you couldn't help the grin that spread across your face and that was all the answer Cadenza needed. She squealed and playfully hit your shoulder. "Finally! Irene, the two of you have been in love with each other for years."

Your face warmed. You averted your gaze to hopefully avoid any further questions or comments, but Cadenza kept going. "Goodness, every year before he gets back with Michi he goes on and on about how much you mean to him. I was getting tired of it."

"He does?" Your eyes widened. You knew you talked to your own friends about Laurance, but you had imagined that every time he got back with Michi you were almost completely out of his mind. You never would have thought that he'd talk about you.

But it got your hopes up. If he talked about you while you weren't there (and in a good light, no less), then maybe that meant he wouldn't just want a summer fling. Maybe by the time this warm season ended, the true extent of your feelings for each other would come out.

Until then, though, you would savor the few months you had where you'd be considered his significant other. The two of you would be a couple until August, and then you'd talk about it.

But the feeling of wanting to run and dance for joy was in your heart, and if this thing only ended up being a summer fling, then you would be okay with that.

I feel like this went a very different direction than I intended, but I mean.... it's still good I think? it's shorter than usual and I feel like it isn't my normal kind of writing. but also I suck at writing summaries because wth is this one I just wrote 😭

idk anyways. hopefully you guys enjoyed this event fic cause I had fun writing it <3

TAGGING: @mellozhi @garrothswiferealnotfake @frostnova321 @kixbit38 @fartmonster98 @myluvbucky @jess1ka18 @isaiku @iim5foryou4ever

[chaosconduit]

There's No cure for that CH 1

I've never posted a fic on tumblr please be gentle or I will cry

reader x Abby Ch2

content: reader is mentally Ill but I don't know with what, manipulation i guess? Catastrophizing

I look up from the piece of paper in my hands to the large studio building in front of me then back down at the paper in confusion. It was a letter in response to an application I'd sent in for a Manager Position. I had thought it was for a fast food place or store. There hadn't been many details on the job page except for that I'd be helping with scheduling and budgeting and the acceptance letter didn’t give much detail either aside from an address and time for the interview, but this place wasn't a restaurant or convenience store.

I hesitate for a moment wondering if I should turn around and go home. There was no way this was a legitimate job offer, someone had obviously posted a fake job as a cruel joke or it was a ghost job that the prospective employer had no intention of actually hiring for and some sort of AI had accidentally scheduled me for an interview. I probably wouldn't have gotten an interview if it had been an actual Manager position of a McDonald's or gas station. I'd never been anything more than a cashier or line cook. They probably would have just politely asked questions, pretend to write something down and then hit me with a “we’ll call you” and send me on my way. Perhaps I should just go home and wait for another more plausible call back or put in more applications, or maybe I should just accept my station and get a factory job and work there until the hard labor breaks my body completely and I can't even function anymore.

My spiraling thoughts are interrupted by the door to the studio opening. A woman who looked to be in her forties with a gray suit jacket and pencil skirt pokes her head out and looks around before her gaze lands on me. A way too wide smile spreads across her face, slowly as if she was consciously moving the muscles in her face. 

“There you are, we've been waiting for you please come in”, she says in a sickly sweet tone. Yeah I was definitely either being pranked or I was going to be murdered. I hesitate a moment as I fight with myself over whether or not to go in. The obvious answer any sane person would pick would be to go home, but if I was going to be pranked, it was a very elaborate set up. A rented studio, actors, a job sight. This was some sort of production for a prank show or a prank channel on some video sharing platform. Either way a lot of money was going into this prank, money that they were expecting to make back and then some. Money they would have to share with me for using my face and if they weren't then I could threaten them with legal action to get them to. I could use that money to give myself more time to find a job. If I was going to get murdered… I wouldn't have to pay for rent, or food, or utilities, or laundry. I wouldn't have to constantly feel like the world was going to spontaneously combust around me. There would be no racing thoughts, no constant worrying about the future, no tiny studio apartment with ever rising rent that will inevitably lead me to moving again in about two years. Honestly there was nothing but upsides if I went in, so I went in.

The woman lends me down the hallway rambling about the job, or at least I think she was talking about the job. She was essentially talking in circles about noting using buzz words that sounded like she had just read off a list of corporate jargon. Yeah I was probably getting murdered. I look around my likely final resting place taking in the fake plants and posters of various Idol groups. An idol studio? Strange place to do a murder, but who was I to judge? I'd never had to pick out a murder location before and had no idea what went into such a thing.

The lady stops at a door and puts her hand on the handle, turning towards me.

“The ones conducting the interview are through here they will decide if you will become the new manager”, she says with false cheerfulness.

“I know how interviews work?”, I responded. Normally I wouldn't dare be so blunt but I convinced myself that I was going to die in the next few minutes, so I no longer cared about being polite and honestly it felt kind of freeing.

The lady nods that too wide smile still on her face as she opens the door for me. I go to step inside, hesitating a moment as the last vestiges of self preservation try to pull the reins from me, but it ultimately loses out and I step through into a dance studio. In front of a wall of mirrors was a table with five young men, all of them what would be considered “hot” by people who actually cared about that sort of thing, but to me they seemed… off. Like they were trying to appear as attractive as possible to lure people in like sirens or vampires. Predators masquerading as humans dressed up in various bright pastels and floral prints. I stare warily at the buttons of the cheap Hawaiian shirt the biggest one was wearing. It looked like it was about to pop and fly through the room like a bullet. My mind immediately begins forming contingency plans on where to go when to hit the floor to avoid getting killed by the small plastic disk seemingly forgetting that I had come in fully expecting to be killed. They stop whatever conversation they were having and look at me with varying degrees of interest.

“Like what you see cutie?” The large man with dark pink hair and a yellow knitted beanie attempted to tease flexing his muscles, the button straining more to the point I could see or more likely my mind was making me see it shaking as if I were about to go flying at any moment. I visibly flinch my body tensing like a veteran at a fireworks show earning me a curious eyebrow raise from the large man. Another of the men, one who looked like he was going for the "neutral guy next door” look with his short black hair, brown eyes, and white plaid shirt smacks the larger guy on the back of his head.

“Abby stop it, you're making them nervous” he says in a gentle voice turning to look at me. He moves to stand in front of me, bowing in greeting.

“Hello , I am Jinu”, he says, straightening up and gesturing to the large man behind him.

“This is Abby”, Abby stares me down with great interest. Jinu then moves on to another man at the table , this one more lithe with light pink hair and heart shaped bangs. 

“This is Romance” romance does that up down stare with a smug smile causing me to squirm uncomfortably. Jinu moves on with introductions

“Here we have Mystery”, it was hard to tell if Mystery was even paying attention due to his eyes being completely obscured by his lavender bangs. He was wearing a purple sweater vest with a light orange sleeveless turtle neck underneath with matching arm warmers. I stifle a comment on the horrendous color pallet as my mind shifts away from the murder idea and back to prank show a slight wave of disappointment hitting me. Jinu points to the last person at the table. This guy was not interested in what was happening at all he was sitting sideways in in his chair scrolling for a video sharing app. a lollipop hanging from his lips. He had a soft face but his body language read as anything but. He had on a baggy pink sweater and wore a backward yellow hat on his periwinkle hair. 

“And that is Baby”, Jinu finishes the introductions. I look at all the men then back at Jinu with confusion.

“Why are you the only one with an actual name? Well I guess Abby is technically a name but I digress”, I ask before I can stop myself. Jinu freezes and looks as if he’s mentally scrambling for an answer. Baby looks up from his phone and grins, seemingly enjoying watching Jinu squirm.

“Yeah boss, why do we not have real names?” Baby leans his face against his hand watching as Jinu studders.

“W-well that’s… that’s their uhh… alias , yeah alias! You see, we're an aspiring K pop group and we came up with the nickname for privacy reasons!”, Jinu stammers. I jolt slightly looking at Jinu with even more confusion.

“Wait, wait, wait, you’re a… K pop group?”, I look over the group again. I guess they certainly looked the part with the coordinated outfits and the fact this interview was taking place in a K pop dance studio. Wait the interview! I'd forgotten this was an interview for a manager position. And if these guys were a wannabe idol group and they put out the job offer that ment… oh… oh no. 

“Ok, um I think there’s been a mistake. I think I might have misinterpreted the job offer. I am so sorry for taking up your time, I’ll be going have a nice day” I try to back away only to back into someone they grab my arms to keep me from fleeing. I look up to see Mystery was the person now holding onto me. I let out a startled shriek and trash to get out of his grip. Despite him looking like he would be blown away in a light breeze he was actually deceptively strong, holding me effortlessly as he guided me back towards the middle of the room. All the while I was mentally spiraling as my mind landed back on the murder idea and the fact there was no logical way a human could move that fast and quietly. 

“Please calm down, Miss, we just want to do a quick interview. You applied for the position. We looked over your application and liked what we saw, so there is no mistake” Jinu tries to soothe. I look at him, my eyes wide and chest heaving like a wild rabbit about to keel over. He nods at Mystery who guided me to sit in a chair before going back to his seat at the table. Jinu, also taking his seat, clears his throat and arranges some papers. An unsure nervousness rolling off of him making it seem like he also had no idea what he was doing, which calmed me down more than his words.

“Ok… tell us about yourself”, Jinu starts. Everyone at the table at least glances at me, but Abby fully pays attention, leaning forward as if I was about to reveal the secrets of the universe. I internally panic. Not only was I still freaking out of the prospect of accidentally becoming a K pop manager but they opened with the worst possible question. A horrid open ended frustratingly vague question. What did they want to know? What about my back story would be applicable to my position when I had already put down any applicable information on the application rendering the whole damn question stupidly pointless.

“Uhhh… I don’t know”, I wanted to bash my head open on the stupid mirror wall. That had to be the worst possible answer to the worst possible question and judging by the snicker from Baby it was likely an incorrect one. Jinu nods and shuffles the papers again.

“How did you hear about this position?” he asks. I pause for a moment. I’d found out about the job from a clearly hand made flyer with a link to one of those sketchy job websites that no doubt mainly exist to sell personal data with no external company website to go to instead leaving me to believe the flyer was the only method of advertising the job.

“Your flyer… a-are just just reading from a list of interview questions you found online?” I ask plainly. The other fur men stifle laughter, clearly getting a kick out of me calling out the leader who was blushing at my question.

“Quiet all of you!”Jinu snaps at his group who do not shut up, “I’ve never done this before I'm kinda going in blind” he mumbles putting the paper down unintentionally giving me a view of the “65 most common interview questions” header printed at the top of the paper. Jinu stands and gestures to the rest of his group to follow him.

“Were going to step out for a moment to discuss and we’ll be back once we reach a conclusion, so wait here” I watch the group leave the room leaving me with my spiraling thoughts again.

Jinu closes the door to the dance studio and turns to the rest of the Saja boys, mostly to Abby.

“Well what do you think?” he asks the large demon. Abby smiles wide.

“I want this one” he says much to the surprise of the others.

“They’re the first one we’ve met. Are you sure you don't want to go through our other options before deciding?” Mystery asks, earning a vigorous no from Abby.

“You guys sensed it right? How… messy their soul is. That's what makes them perfect. The rumor states that a human soul that is built up with affection and support tastes better, so a soul that is absolutely wreaked is perfect building up, besides we all saw how pretty boy here completely fumbled that entire process. We might actually need a manager to get his little plan to work, so we can knock out two birds with one stone” Abby teases, earning another smack from a still flustered Jinu.

“Ok I guess we’re going with this one then” Jinu grimaces then the group enters the studio where I was still sitting on my chair nervously bouncing my leg. they take their seats at the table again except Jinu who stands in front of me, his hand extended for me to shake.

“Congratulations you've got the position.” I shoot up from my chair, shock plastered on my face. I actually got the job just like that after this disastrous interview. I was pretty sure these dolts didn't even read my application.

“Seriously? I got the job?” Abby speaks up first,leaning back in his chair and putting his arms behind his head causing that button to strain again making me over nervous about it again.

“Sure did little lady, honestly you look like you could use a break for once” he said dismissively. I look from Abby to Jinu’s hand. I hesitate for a moment. My thoughts screaming every possible reason I shouldn't take this job. I had no idea what went into managing an Idol group there was no way I was qualified for it. They technically weren't even a group yet they were in the words of Jinu “an aspiring group” the chances of them actually succeeding and making money were astronomically tiny and not worth the risk. I didn't even know if they had any talent, in fact Jinu seemed to be the only member of the group who was actually taking it seriously. However, it was clear by looking at these boys they were well off. They had nice clothes, were well fed, and had rented out this dance studio for this absolute farce of an interview. Even if the group failed there was still something to gain through paychecks, and potentially getting close to a bunch of rich guys who likely had rich connections that I could also use.

“Wow, only known these people for about an hour and you're already thinking of how best to use them to line your pockets, you are a terrible person” the voice of my thoughts whispers. I elect to ignore it and take Jinu’s hand and shake.

“Ok I’ll take the job”