#i should have written a will its really happening this time im about to drop dead

[isa-ah]

for people who have anxiety but live alone anyway: how do u deal with the panic? I live with 2 other people and still have bubble burst moments of random fear that only gets soothed by putting myself in someone else's eyeline. what do you do when the catastrophising starts???

[zooone]

NEW FRIEND REQUEST FROM: SATORU GOJO ?!

in which ?! - your annoying neighbor messes up your study plans. and it just so happens that the rich boy next to you in class is also annoying. when you fail a test one day, he's there to help.

words ?! - 4.5k

warnings and content ?! - fluff, swearing, a couple of tiny innuendos if you squint, satoru is a BITCH!, you have a bit of a mental breakdown, 2010 au, satoru calls reader "sweets", no curses au

an ?! - WE ARE SOOOO BACK!!!! its been a year since ive written, and this one was definitely quite the warm up but im so excited to be back ^w^ thanks to @melancholiaincarnate for beta reading!!!

masterlist ?!

she bounced her leg. she looked around. she took a whiff of her candle. she flipped a page.

anything, anything to void the terribly loud sounds of the tv next door.

what an absolutely prime time to be watching tv at max volume, at 11 pm the day before a crucial test. it was terrible. and worse of all, it sounded like digimon. who the fuck watches digimon in college?

it sounded like he had people over too, and though she could only hear a couple voices, they were loud as hell.

turning back to her work, she put her palms against her temples. none of it made sense. none of it. everything always made sense to her. and this pissed her off.

"oh come on!" she could hear through the walls, a man with a whiny voice. watching digimon. rather than her notes, all she could think of was how immature her neighbor was.

she took her textbook, slamming it against the thin walls so hard she thought there'd be a hole. then she'd really have to hear them.

the other side grew quiet, all except for a "whoooooopsie daisy" from the same whiny voice.

was he 13?

meanwhile, the three lounged on the couch. popcorn was spilled all over the floor (due to satoru's inability to sit still), but they all knew that satoru would have to be the one to ultimately clean it. it was his place, after all.

"maybe you should turn the tv down," suguru sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"no way! this is the best part of the episode!" satoru whined, gesturing a hand to the thick tv.

"you say that about every scene. just turn it down before your neighbor sends a noise complaint."

"psh. no way dude. she'd never." he snorts, laying back on the couch. manspreading. like two other people aren't next to him.

shoko chimes in, "what, do you know her or something?"

"nah, no clue what she looks like. but i hear those informational tv shows coming from her dorm every once in a while." he shakes his head like its funny. "anyone who watches those kinds of things won't have the balls to tattle."

"what, as opposed to tough guys like you who watch digimon in college?" suguru scoffs. his legs are actually together like a gentleman. wether or not that was due to the lack of space.

"exactly." and satoru yawns with a frown. he's gotten in trouble with his neighbors so many times that he didn't care anymore. he probably should've been kicked out, but instead they moved him around. which is why he was here now. tv blasting digimon right next to his studying classmate.

the same classmate who'll come to school looking like a tornado flew by, dropping her books down on the desk with a hefty sigh like they weighed as much as her.

"sheesh. you look like a mess." satoru chimes, gazing her figure up and down slowly behind his tinted glasses. however, she could sense his bright eyes without even having to look. "rough night, huh? what's the guy's name?"

"shut up," she scowls, knocking his arm out from behind her chair. he lets out a small pout.

"ouch. that hurt." he shakes his hand, pretending to soothe the pain of his imaginary bruise. "i was just asking a genuine question."

"i wasn't with anyone, satoru, i was studying." she sighs, picking at the skin on her lips. a bad habit she's had since she was little.

"lame." he whined, stretching the 'a' out.

"we have a test today!"

"oh, do we? shucks."

of course satoru gojo didn't have to study. of course satoru gojo spent his night with a woman (probably). of course satoru gojo yawned when the test was being passed out. because he didn't need to study. he was one of the many, many people who was able to get into the college because of status and money. the direct counterpart of her.

she got in through scholarships and grades after having come from a lesser background. she worked hard to be there, unlike satoru and the rest of the school. everyone around her had a stench of expensive cologne. thank goodness for uniforms, otherwise her lower status would be immediately revealed.

not like it wasn't obvious already. everyone was already in their own separate group, leaving her in the dust. which is why she allowed satoru gojo to bother her in class. without him, the only time she would talk was to answer questions.

she was so lost in thought she didn't realize she was staring at him.

"what, d'ya need the answers or something?" satoru giggled in a whisper. the smirk on his face was absolutely unbelievable.

she knitted her eyebrows, turning herself towards her paper. "n-no, just thinking."

"all that studying just for you to think. what a shame."

even through his fucking whisper she could hear the cockiness in his voice. it was so natural for him to just think of things to piss her off. if there wasn't a test, she would be imagining all the ways she would kill satoru gojo.

he was so smug. too smug. and even after the test is over, he would still be,

outright smug.

he stretched his legs out over the desk, shoe almost touching her pencil. his shoe alone probably costed more than she makes in a year. "that was pretty easy, huh?"

no, no it wasn't.

"yeah, for sure." she lied through her teeth. no. she wanted to take her pencil and gouge her eyes out. she wanted to rip all her hair off and eat it. satoru better have been lying.

"i don't get why you studied so much. that was easy as hell." he pouted, twirling his pencil in his hands like it was a graceful ribbon. "besides, why were you studying that late?"

"because i actually care about my grades!" she argued, scowling at him through narrow eyes. she wanted nothing more than to pass that test and slap the stupid grin off his face.

"i know that," he whined. "i meant why were you studying late?"

"i-i don't follow."

satoru laughed, muttering something under his breath about how clueless she was before shaking his head. "i mean, you're a good girl. you don't go out, you have a list and schedule for everything, you make sure you get tons of sleep. so what was wrong with last night?"

what?

was he being nice? and how did he catch all that?

she faltered from responding for a little bit, waiting for the usual punchline to hit. but it never did. he just sat there, genuinely asking.

"u-uh, my neighbor." she spoke slowly, as if anticipating his snarky reply. nothing. "for some reason he thinks its funny to watch digimon on full blast at night."

satoru's eyes widened before he let out a guilty chuckle. she didn't understand what was so humorous to him, but he could make a joke out of anything.

"oh," he giggled. "what an idiot, heh."

"yeah." she looked at him skeptically. no punchline yet. but he looked like he knew something she didn't. surely (hopefully) it wasn't the answers to that test.

later that night, she would go to her dorm, bringing out her keys labeled "365". she pushed the door open and dove face first into her couch. curling up against one of her throw pillows, she lazily grabbed the remote.

looks like it'll be another informational tv show tonight. just something to fill the room and make things seem less lonely. sometimes she envied her loud, annoying neighbor because at least he had friends to be loud with. and she was simply just lonely.

the sounds of the tv show bounced off the walls of her empty dorm. there was a bit of furniture, but definitely not the stuff that she'd dreamed about ever since she was little. this was her dream college, something that motivated her ever since she had the realization she could pick any college throughout the whole world. but,

picking and dreaming was easy. earning the right to go there was not.

one of the terms of her scholarships was to keep up her good grades. and although that was a habit of hers throughout the years, the burnout was reaching her. slowly but surely,

until it all crashed down.

she hadn't even noticed she was crying until she realized the dark tear stains on the throw pillow. the tv show still played, something about some sort of rare animal in its habitat, but she paid no mind. it was just noise to drown out her tears.

she would end up falling asleep on the couch. waking up the next morning, late due to her phone's alarm being buried and muffled in her bag.

and for the second time in a row, she would come to class looking like a mess. an utter mess.

"woah girl," satoru spoke, putting his hands up in a sort of surrender as she slammed her belongings down. "you okay?

she wasn't prepared for this. for the tests to be handed back, for satoru's annoying fucking voice, none of it.

"im fine, satoru!" it accidentally came out worse than intended.

"bad sleep again?" he asked, with genuine worry and confusion in his tone. he wasn't even watching tv that night.

"its none of your business." she set her head down, tears already beginning to swell in her eyes. no. not here, not now, please.

instead of a reply, satoru put his hand on her back. he didn't force it, he did it slow enough to the point that she could shake his hand off if she wanted to. but she didn't. she stayed still.

he took that as permission to pat her back, and his touch surprisingly gentle. in any other circumstance she would be flipping out, screaming right at his face to leave her alone (despite wanting the opposite), but that didn't happen. she welcomed his touch,

his strangely familiar, natural touch.

as if on cue, the papers were passed back. and satoru's face scrunched up when he saw multiple red marks bleed through to the other side of her paper.

"hey, maybe you should-" but it was too late. she lifted her head, turning the paper over and,

she failed.

she failed.

and suddenly the dam holding her raging emotions had fully, fully cracked. all she could do was cry.

the red marks immediately bled throughout the paper as her tears weakened into the test. she crumpled it in her hands, feeling her nails pierce through the paper and into her palms- crescent shaped marks going through both of them.

and the worst part? she looked up. she looked up at satoru's flawless paper and saw he passed.

he passed.

she failed.

he swallowed his saliva, feeling his mouth go dry. a juxtaposition to her drenched paper. "hey, i - you-"

"i know-" she sniffled, "excuse me."

and even through shameful tears, she still showed manners. she stood up and left the classroom. she didn't know where she was going at all. she just wanted to leave.

leave the building, leave the school.

but her legs betrayed her, buckling underneath her as her lungs tried to catch up to her. it felt like her insides were scratching out her throat. and as if on perfect arrival, satoru tried to catch her.

key word; tried.

the sheer force of her fall made him tumble back as well, and she ended up on top of him. and on complete instinct, she curled up in his arms.

"oh, sweets - 's okay -"

"its not - its not -" she repeated, through heaving breaths.

but he wrapped his arms around her as tight as he could, rocking back and forth on the gross school floor as if a mother rocking a child. he pressed her ear right against his heart, where she heard a soft drumbeat. something to fill the space.

"its all okay, sweets. its all okay." he whispered, careful not to startle her. "y'hear me?"

"y-yeah-"

"no, d'you hear my heartbeat? listen." and she did, absentmindedly copying his deep breaths. her lips tingled with how dry her mouth was, but she was now able to think.

she was tired. she was just so immensely tired. she nearly fell asleep in his arms with his heartbeat.

"thats it, sweets, thats it." he looked down, sweeping hair from her heavy eyes. he wiped a tear from her cheek.

"i-i messed up your uniform -" was all she could say, being in the arms of the last person she expected. even through tears, all she could think of was the expensive uniform.

"thats okay. i have plenty more."

of course. of course, satoru gojo could just buy a new uniform. of course satoru gojo just had to be smart and rich. he didn't have to study at all. and he still did better-

"whatcha thinking about?" he snapped her from her thoughts. and looking up at his hypnotizing blue eyes, she couldn't feel any more rage in her system. she was tired.

"nothing." she wiped another tear, sadly laughing at how pathetic she felt.

"how about we take a little walk?" he smiled, his canines showing.

on the other hand, she frowned. "what about th-the lesson?"

"oh, nonsense, sweets." he laughed with such confidence. but his voice lacked a mocking tone to it. "y'already know all of it. i'm sure. you're a smart girl."

and before she could sit and ponder that, he stood up. he lifted her up with such ease, adding a little "upsie daisy" to his action. in fact, he did it with such force that she crashed into his chest.

"easy, girl," he giggled softly, looking at her with such tenderness (despite lifting her like a feather). she glared up at him. "there she is. c'mon, lets go."

their "little walk" would turn into a walk around the entire city. she barely had both the time and energy to have a big long walk, but satoru made it possible.

"oh jeez, walk fast, walk fast," he giggled, a hand on her back as he speed-walked past multiple stores.

"what, do you get nervous around kfc or something?" she found it hard to walk at his rate, her legs still a little wobbly and her eyes still puffy. but she smiled.

"what? nah.. why would i be.." he pouted. at this time, she would be sitting on her couch with an informational tv show playing. but now, she was sleepily smiling alongside satoru gojo. who knew.

"i don't know, maybe you're scared of colonel sanders." she snickered. the thought of it was funny.

"y-yeah. totally."

they had passed multiple stores, the lights in them illuminating the night. she had refrained from window shopping too much, as she knew she wouldn't be able to afford any of it. but one of them was just irresistible.

"look at that dress," she whispered. and even though it was to herself, satoru saw the stars in her eyes as she gazed at it through the window. by the time she could look back at him, he was already in the store, smiling and gesturing at her to follow.

and she did, reluctantly.

"this one?" he picked up the dress from the hanger, taking a look at the fabric and pattern to it. "it is pretty. you have good taste, sweets."

her face went oddly warm at that one.

"and its perfect in time for fall," he continued analyzing the dress, putting it up to her body trying to imagine how she'd look. "go try it on."

"w-what? but -" she tried to grab the dress to look at the price tag. "how much -"

"c'mon, less talking and more changing!" he put his hand on her back again, leading her towards the changing rooms. a smile rested on his face like it was his default. "hey, could'ya do me a favor, sweets?"

"yeah, whats up?" she looked at the dress in her hands. and he slowly, slowly leaned down towards her, his breath close to her neck. it sent dangerous shivers down her spine.

"don't look at the price tag, alright? thats my only rule, heh."

she did as told, entering the changing room and avoiding the price hesitantly. part of her instincts wanted to check, but she refrained.

god, had she really cried that hard? her eyes were still red and puffy and her lips were still slightly plump. she didn't know how she managed to make it throughout the whole city without being judged by everyone. maybe she could blame it on allergies if someone asked.

yet, she turned around and looked into the mirror with the dress on.

the dress' color complimented her features perfectly, making it look like she was glowing as if she hadn't previously cried her eyes out. it was the perfect shape for her figure, but most importantly, it brought a smile to her face. a smile that hadn't shown itself since the college acceptance letter came in the mail.

she burst through the changing room, instantly getting satoru's (who was mindlessly scrolling on facebook) attention.

"oh my-" and the words were stolen from his lips, making satoru gojo speechless for the first time ever. she marked it down in her head as a famous moment in history. "you - you look -"

"its so pretty, satoru!" she smiled, spinning around to see the ruffles of the dress flow with her movements. "and look! its got pockets!"

"its perfect, sweets." he looked at her with lidded eyes, a goofy smile on his face. not the sort of smile that would make her want to slap him, but the kind of smile that made her warm. "but did you follow my rule?"

"yes, i did not look at all." she couldn't keep the smile off her face. fluttering her hands in the pockets of the dress.

"perfect." he grinned. and when she went to go put her uniform back on, her smile faded. she knew she had to put it back on the shelf.

she exited the fitting room, a longing frown on her face. yet, satoru still beamed. "alright, you ready? lets go pay up."

"what?" and he was already towards the cash registers. "but - i don't have-"

"relax, sweets, i got it." he pulled out his card, waving it in the air like it was the key to the pearly gates.

"no - satoru - you don't have to -"

"i said, i got it." he playfully, yet dramatically, rolled his eyes. he was already walking up to one of the registers, somehow with the dress in his hands. did he take it sometime when she wasn't looking?

"thank you, sir." he nodded to the cashier, bag in hand. it happened so fast, too fast for her to comprehend.

and her face was red with shame as they walked out.

"you didn't have to do all that!" she elbowed him. he even insisted on carrying the bag as well.

"oh my, i walk you around the city and buy you something and that's my thanks?" he whined, his bottom lip peaking out to taunt her.

"i didn't ask you to!-"

"im joking," he straightened up again, laughing a the look on her face. "its all on me, i promise. you owe me nothing."

"thats - thats not fair to you, though!" she yelled, a frown on her reddened face. again, it was just allergies.

“so?” he shrugged. it was fair to him. he spent a little bit (a lot) and he got to see the smile on her face. that was fine by him. “i don’t care.”

she didn’t have a response for him. she just continued walking, only a hazy silence separating them. it wasn’t like the silence in her dorm- it was warm and welcoming. perhaps it was the fogginess in her head as sleepiness was slowly overcoming her. but no matter what it was, she felt safe with him.

all she muttered was, “thank you, satoru.” under her breath. and he chuckled.

her breaths were starting to get more shallow, as her strides shortened. “you feel tired?”

she was so tired. she’s been tired,

but she didn’t want this to end just yet.

“could we - uh,” she mentally cringed at herself. what was she doing? “can we go to your place?”

“huh?” he smiled, and it didn’t look like a single thought was behind his eyes. she didn’t want to have to repeat herself. “i mean- sure, if you’re okay with it.”

she didn’t want to do anything, and he knew that. but with the way he slung his arm across her shoulder, she felt a sudden buzzing throughout her joints. she rested her head on his chest as her legs essentially dragged behind her.

“our - my buildings close by. it won’t be long, sweets.” he giggled, and all she could do was nod her heavy head.

the next thing she knew, he was carrying her bridal style in the elevator. the bumps of the elevator car felt oddly familiar, but she was too tired to process all of it. he carried her so tenderly, humming softly as the doors opened. the low vibrations in his chest were a gentle lullaby.

after struggling and stumbling a little, he brought out his keys labeled “367” and he chuckled softly. opening the door, he let out a soft breath. popcorn kernels still cluttered the floor, some smooshed, but he still smiled at the amount of decorations around.

he laid her down gently on the couch, pausing briefly when she stirred, and sat down next to her. he grabbed his remote, manspreading yet again as he scrolled through channels. his free hand idly played with her hair, a gentleness to his touch.

“should i turn on some sorta informational tv show for you?” he whispered, looking over at her like she would respond. and of course, when she didn’t, he just chuckled. “i think i’ll play some digimon. i think you’d like this episode.”

she burst from her bedsheets with such force, her vision nearly went black. the scent around her was familiar as she stared ahead (once her vision was back to normal). how did she end up in her dorm? she could’ve sworn she was..

where was she last night?

as she looked around herself, everything was normal. not a single bit of her desk was out of place, and all her papers were safely tucked away in her bag. she put her head in her hands, wiping her eyes of her sleepiness. thank goodness it was a saturday.

a small ding came from her blocky phone. she swept her feet onto the floor, groaning a little bit when she made contact with the rug. her head hurt. she vaguely remembered bits and pieces of the show she was watching last night. something about monsters maybe?

idly, she picked up her phone. it was already past noon.

NEW NOTIFICATION

facebook? she barely used facebook.

NEW FRIEND REQUEST FROM: SATORU GOJO

she opened up his profile.

Satoru Gojo

is excited about: Digimon.

oh.

now she remembered everything. and that would make sense why she woke up in her own bed.

she scrambled out of her bedroom, hastily putting on her slippers and leaving her dorm with such urgency, her breath was left behind.

“hey! open up!” she banged her fists on door 367. although the time was not obscene, someone looked at her suspiciously across the hallway. “u-um - package for gojo?”

what was she doing? clearly she didn’t look like a delivery woman. all she cared about was getting an answer.

she heard shuffling from behind the door, and as the handle turned, satoru gojo showed himself in nothing more than a tank top and gray sweatpants. the tank top showed off his shoulders and his oddly defined collarbones. it stuck to his tummy, showing the outline of his flexed abs. she was in such haste that when she stopped to stare, a buzzing played in her head.

“oh,” satoru smiled, leaning against the doorframe as he crossed his arms. he just looked so smug. “quite the package you are, sweets. heh.”

“satoru?!” she whisper-yelled once she finally got a grip on her staring problem. “you- you’re my -”

“did you get my friend request?” he frowned, though it was more of a pout. his hand ruffled through his snowy white hair.

“satoru gojo is excited about digimon?!” she recalled from his profile, her mind a haze. she could remember his silly profile picture.

“‘cause i am.” he whined, like it was some sort of obvious statement. his carelessness about this made her brows knit.

then, a softer voice showed itself. “satoru, who’s that?”

a man with his hair tied up (apart from hair in the front) came up behind him. and suddenly, her face went even more red than before, realizing she embarrassed herself by freaking out in front of his company.

“o-oh, you - sorry, sorry, i-”

“you wanna join us? i’m making some popcorn,” satoru giggled, still not answering his friend’s question. “we aren’t watching any informational thing, but i think you’d still like it.”

“is - is this your neighbor?” the black hair man spoke again.

“yup.”

“the one who you -”

“yup.”

she stood there, her pulse in her cheeks, unable to speak. however, he gestured to invite her in. she couldn’t tell if his offer was a joke, but she walked in regardless. as she introduced herself to his company, learning that the man’s name was suguru, and she also noticed a girl with short hair on the couch by the name of shoko.

satoru grabbed the popcorn, a small grin on his face as he walked to sit on the couch. he patted the space next to him. “c’mon, sweets. sit next to me.” he snorted, “i dunno if there’ll be enough room for you, but suguru can stand.”

“there would probably be more room if you stopped manspreading.” suguru scoffed.

nonetheless, she sat down next to satoru, letting him sling his arm around her shoulder again. like last night. “how’d you sleep? did’ya finally get a good night?”

“yeah,” she spoke. when she relaxed her eyebrows, she felt a soothingness to her forehead. she could smell his cologne, being forced to smush up against him when suguru forced himself on the couch. “it - it was good.”

“that’s good, sweets.” he chuckled, shoving a bit of popcorn in his mouth with a grin. his hand rested idly on her thigh, his touch familiar to her. “you looked real tired.”

and she felt it was mandatory to look at him, a sort of desperation in her eyes. “hey, satoru i wanted to - um - thank you-”

“huh? for what?” he shrugged, resting his head on his free hand.

“for, y’know, all you did for me.” she was quiet, and she could feel suguru and shoko’s eyes on them. “i still don’t appreciate how loud your tv is, but - i just- thank you. really.”

“its no problem.” he laughed, taking the hand on her thigh and placing it around her shoulders again. “and i promise i’ll turn it down from now on.”

“thank god.” she snickered. meanwhile, suguru and shoko looked at each other skeptically.

“by the way, i put the dress on your counter,” satoru added, pushing his tinted glasses up. “you should wear it the next time we go out, sweets.”

“next time?” she asked, putting one eyebrow up.

“yeah, next time. i think i’m free tomorrow, actually.”

8.1.24 - WE ARE SO BACK!!!

masterlist ?!

[amuyyi]

warm enough .

synopsis; recovering from an expected breakup, you find yourself drunk at a nearby bar, encountering an unfamiliar girl who happens to know your ex.

trope; non idol!ningning x fem!reader, uni au, fluff, a little angst, a little suggestive, strangers to lovers, feat. kep1er members :3

wc; 4.8k

cw; a little suggestive but not really

a/n; fun fact this happened to me irl ! figured i could use my experiences for stories ! everything from the breakup to the bar kiss is based on my personal experience so lol have fun. also its kinda poorly written because i wrote some of it while on the plane + in china while being very tired and i dont feel like proofreading so im sorry ^^'

The breakup was supposed to be a mutual thing. A smooth and easy agreement between you and Jimin. You guys met in a cafe when your soon-to-be-ex girlfriend finally dropped the bomb on you. 

“I still care a lot about you, y/n. But I want to focus on myself and my future… I think you should too.”

You wanted to speak up, say that you didn’t want to let go yet. Just… hold on for a little longer. Maybe it’d get better if you guys just kept it going for another week. Another month. Another day?

 “What I’m trying to say is…”

You always hated this part.

“I think we should break up.”

Despite the older girl being the one to initiate the ending of the relationship, you always knew it was coming. Jimin was sweet, and you definitely did enjoy the little dates you guys had been on through the past year, but there was something missing. Every time she looked at you, it seemed like she was looking through your eyes into her own. Her mind was always elsewhere whenever you two were together, like she was searching for something you couldn’t provide. She never seemed to smile around you, never laughed loudly or hugged you with warmth. 

You really tried to be the person for her, you really did; but it was apparent that she was trying to convince herself you were the one as well.

It was shown in the way she bought you endless gifts with things you said you wanted, but never kissed you, In the way she would allow you to hold her hand, but never reached out herself, how she couldn’t bring herself to say “I love you” out loud. Jimin was cold.

You agreed that this was the best path to take, how you felt the exact same way and that it would be good for the both of you, but the tears that nonconsensually left your eyes said otherwise. You still remember the last words you told her before you got up to leave.

“I really hoped it was you.”

There's a saying or the other. “Your body will know if someone is right for you.” You came across it while aimlessly scrolling on social media once, and you thought it was an interesting but ridiculous concept. Countless people would share stories about how their hair would fall out or how they would break out into horrible acne when they were with their past partners, only being relieved from this when single or with their “match.”

It was funny, and you didn’t believe one bit of it until it actually happened. The tightness in your chest that followed you every time you two went out together, the stress of wondering if she actually enjoyed her company, the way you couldn’t truly relax in her presence– it all went away. It all left when she walked out of your life, and you’ve never felt more at peace with a decision. At least, for a little bit.

The breakup was the easy part. It was the recovery that ruined you.

You were the one to establish a rule of no contact, even after you both expressed wanting to stay in touch. It was your only way to hold on to the last sliver of pride you had left after spending a year chasing after Yu Jimin. The rule was established to allow you some time to heal, and you hoped to return to the girl as friends once you felt ready.

With this in mind, you then proceeded to spend a month barely eating, barely sleeping, and not leaving your apartment unless you needed to for classes. It was difficult to be on your own after dedicating so much time to her, falling behind, hoping that she would see you the way you saw her; but after about a month, you slowly felt yourself regaining your footing.

You started going out again, talking with your roommate, taking time to actually care for yourself. It was nice. Perhaps your progress would have left you comfortable enough to move on if you didn’t decide to go out that day.

There she was. Yu Jimin. After an exact 31 days of no contact with her, you finally cross paths. Quite literally, at that– but she wasn’t alone. There was a girl on her arm. She was pretty. Blonde with bobbed hair and a soft smile that made it impossible to hate her. Jimin was smiling too. This is the first time you’ve seen her smile like that, smiling as if she found what she was looking for after all of this time. She doesn't look past her. She sees her.

Jimin holds the other girl by the small of her waist the way she used to do with you, and she kisses her. She kissed her. Just like how she used to kiss you, but not exactly. There's love in her eyes. A warmth you’ve never seen before. In her eyes, there is certainty.

And that was the day your world came crashing down on top of you.

You tried to act normal as you walked past. You really did. Your eyes remain glued to your phone as your knuckles turn white. Her eyes didn’t even meet yours as you walked by. Why wouldn't she look at you? Maybe she's wondering why you won't look at her. That must be it. You hold your breath. As soon as she passed by, you couldn’t help yourself. You made the mistake of looking back.

…Nothing.

As soon as Jimin was out of sight, you cried. You ran home, scaring half the life out of your poor roommate, Xiaoting, as you collapsed in your bed. Everything hurts. Why did it hurt? You wanted this. You felt better without her— the tightness in your chest was gone. 

Instead, it was replaced by an indescribably painful ache. One that felt so deep within your soul it would never heal. Quietly entering your room, Xiaoting says nothing as she sits next to your limp body on the bed, rubbing your back comfortingly. The gesture only makes you sob even harder. 

She's been with you through it all. From the beginning of your relationship with Jimin till the end, she was there. Xiaoting really was a good friend.

From then on, Xiaoting’s one goal was simple: cheer you up. She would cook at least once for you every day despite not being the best chef, and she would allow you to rant about the same things over and over no matter how overbearing it got. Honestly, you started to feel a little bad. She shouldn’t have to bend over backwards for you just because you’re a little sad.

So when Xiaoting announces that you will be joining her at the bar with her friends tonight, you couldn't say no. Both because she stated it, not asked you, and that it simply was the least you could do for her. Especially after everything she’s done for you. Before you knew it, you were dressed up in your best (slutty) corset top and cargo pants with some hoops and over exaggerated makeup to accent the look. Xiaoting, as your best roommate and friend, matches with you, and you two make a big scene out of getting ready together; blasting music, doing each other's hair, borrowing each other's clothes, and more.

Xiaoting’s girlfriend Yujin had made herself at home for the pregame, and your mutual friend Hikaru soon followed. With Xiaoting as designated bartender, the four of you mingle, laughing and cracking jokes as the warmth of the alcohol and one another’s presence left you with a warming buzz. Xiaoting was an excellent mixer, and in combination with the chasers Hikaru bought and the drinking games Yujin proposed, you were all ready to go. 

Xiaoting and Yujin led the way, hand in hand as you and Hikaru trailed behind, drunkenly singing into the cold night air as you trek to the nearest bar.

Being a Friday night, the establishment had been as packed as expected, and you all squeezed your way past other visitors as you’re guided to a nearby table. Xiaoting starts off strong, ordering shots for the entire group before utilizing her combined charm alongside her girlfriend’s looks to convince guys to purchase drinks for everyone as well. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way the duo would bat their eyelashes innocently at lone men for drinks– but at least it worked.

Lazily, your eyes wander through the crowd, the alcohol in your system making it a struggle to see straight. Despite your inability to see properly, you still manage to catch a glimpse of your friends from the corner of your eye, and easily spot Yujin attempting to very publicly make out with Xiaoting as Hikaru struggles to pull her away. You stifle a laugh at the sight, and decide to leave the three to their antics whilst you look for someone to talk to.

It's been a while since you last struck up a conversation with a stranger. The last time you had put yourself out there was before you met… 

You shake your head. No. You are not letting your stupid ex ruin your night. Knitting your brows in concentration, you scan the bar. There were plenty of pretty girls to talk to, but you were feeling a little intimidated. Almost all of them came with at least one other person, and you didn’t want to intrude on anything…

 Your eyes landed on a lone blonde at the end of the table, scrolling through her phone with alcohol flushed cheeks. She seemed approachable. Worst case scenario, she simply shoos you off. Taking a deep breath, you approach the blonde, deciding to pull out your best conversation starter.

“Are you chinese? You look chinese!!” You exclaim, suddenly switching to mandarin in the middle of your sentence as you ask the question. Smooth.

The blonde girl looks as if she would’ve been extremely offended at the comment if you didn't just speak to her in her native tongue halfway through your sentence, and she quirks a brow at you, an amused smirk on her lips as she leans against the bar. 

“Yeah, I am! What's a cutie like you doing in a place like this alone??” 

You feel your heart begin to race. So far so good. “I'm not alone!!! My friends are just busy making out with each other and the other is trying to stop them!!” You also lean on the bar, though not as alluring as the blonde before you. More like you partially collapsed and partially slid on it.

She chortles at your response, “well that's not fair to you, leaving you here all alone.”

The sweet and somewhat sultry tone of the blonde makes (non alcohol induced) blush appear on your face as you laugh, “it really isn't! But whatever! My name is y/n by the way!! What's yours??” You scream over the music, sticking your hand out. It was an unexpectedly polite gesture considering your circumstances, and perhaps it may have seemed a bit comical as well with how drunk you were.

She giggles at the response, grabbing your hand then pulling you in, her lips dangerously close to your ear as she yells over the music, “Ning Yizhuo. But call me Ningning! It's cuter!”

You grin. Ningning was a cute nickname. You decided at this very moment you could trust this cute stranger with your life story and personal information she didn’t ask for, and begin to slur out.

“My friends dragged me out here because I was sad over my ex who moved on from me a month after the breakup even though we dated for a year and she's a big jerk for that even though I wish only the best for her but also I hope she dies!!!”

None of the words you spoke just now came out clear, and they seemed to trip over one another when leaving your mouth, but it was enough for the other girl to go from extremely relaxed to suddenly very heated. She stands up straight as her eyebrows knit together.

“To be honest I don’t think she ever really liked me in the first place! I don’t know!! Whatever it doesn’t matter!!!” You continue on, sounding absolutely pathetic as you let yourself feel through the anger you didn’t even know you were repressing, “I was stupid to stay with someone who couldn’t even look me in the eye when saying she loved me!! She was stupid to do the same!! Whatever!! I don’t know!!”

Ningning cuts you off with a raised hand before you can continue, “what the hell?! I hate people like that!!  You're wayyyy too hot to be treated that way! Who is she? What's her name?? I might know her!!”

Against your better drunken judgment, you decide to name drop your ex within a university bar. Because that is always a good idea. “Yu Jimin!! She's a engineering major !!!”

Ningning’s jaw drops as she stares at you, almost as if she were trying to find the correct words for what she has to say next.

“Girl, I know her !!!” She screams out after a brief moment of silence,  “we shared a class together once!! Oh my god I'm so sorry I didn't know she was like that!! You deserve BETTER!” 

Before you could even think of what to say in reaction to that heavy load of information, Ningning grabs your face, pulling you into a kiss. It was a very messy one, her lips almost missing your own during the exchange. Seems like she's not entirely sober either. 

Still, even in your drunken state you knew what to do. Your hands immediately find Ningnings hair as you pull her in closer, and you can feel her smiling as she grazes her tongue over the bottom of your lip. 

You open your mouth to let her in and the only thing that you can think of or even feel for that matter is Ningning and her tongue. She… was really good at this. Jimin never kissed you like this before. Her hands trail down your back to your ass before she squeezes it, smirking when you squirm against her touch.

She breaks the kiss, her face inches away from yours as she breathes out, “you deserve so much better…” Ningning gives you a quick peck on the lips before stepping back, taking in her work with a devilish glint in her eyes. You stare at her dumbfounded for a moment before whipping out your phone, fully talking in your appearance. Your hair and makeup were a wreck. How did all of that happen just now?

“Done by yours truly~” Ningning winks at you, quickly slipping your phone out of your hand and typing something in.

“Wh— Wait what are you doing?”

“Giving you my number, obviously. My girls are gonna wonder where I went.” She hands back your phone and looks at you with soft eyes through her drunken daze. 

“Take care of yourself, yeah?” Ningning kisses you one last time, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go. She disappears into the crowd of partygoers, a sly fox-like grin on her face.

“There you are!” 

You feel an arm land on your shoulder as you jump, twirling around and looking down to see a drunk Hikaru with a slightly less drunk Xiaoting and an absolutely hammered Yujin on her side.

“We should probably head back home!” Xiaoting screams into your ear, “Hikaru’s gonna knock out on the couch and Yujin will be with me!”

Her words barely make it through to you, the music and the alcohol and the adrenaline within your system muffling out every word spoken. Regardless, you still nod and trail behind your friends as you leave, not all too sure what just happened.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You lay in bed, eyes practically burning holes into the new contact in your phone. “宁宁<3” is what it said. 

So last night wasn’t just a dream. You really did just get a girl's number by doing nothing but spilling your secrets to a stranger. On top of all of that, your head was absolutely killing you, you swore you could feel your heartbeat within your brain. Still, that wasn’t important. Biting your lip, your fingers hover over the contact name. Should you message her? 

y/n [10:59]  — hey !! its y/n, the girl from the bar

y/n [10:59]  — thanks for keeping me company last night :)

ningning [11:06]  — i was wondering if u were gonna text me back

ningning [11:06] — and of course <3 jimin doesn’t know what she lost

y/n [11:08] — haha im flattered

y/n [11:08]  — but u barely know me??

ningning [11:11]  — that can change xx

Your eyes widen as you reread the text over and over again. Is she implying what you think she's implying? What if she's just being friendly? Can you even platonically make out with someone at the bar?

y/n [11:16] — are u asking me out on a date ning yizhuo ?

You wait. 

Oh god. What if she was just being friendly?

ningning [11:18]  — only if youll have me 

You feel yourself blush at her message, burying your face into your pillow as you squeal like a high school teenager in love. It was embarrassing in hindsight, but.. it felt nice to be wanted. 

y/n [11:19] —  of course

ningning [11:19] — perfect <3 

ningning [11:20] — dinner at my place tonight then? 

ningning [11:20] — If youre not too hungover.. 

ningning [11:20] — i got the best hangover cures ;)

you can't help but arch your eyebrow at the winky face she added at the end but brushed it off, more focused on the fact that your drunk hatred towards your ex landed you a date. 

You scramble to your feet and (metaphorically) kick down Xiaoting’s door, abruptly waking the girl from her nap as she screams out, “WO CAO!” She places a hand over her heart as she bolts up within her bed, immediately letting out a sigh of relief when she realizes it was just you. 

“Girl what the HELL is wrong with you?!” She hisses, laying back down and throwing the blanket over her head.

You, being the ever loving and best roommate ever, respond to this by jumping into bed with (on top of) the redhead and squeezing her as tight as you can while screaming “I HAVE A DATE!!!”

Xiaoting shoots back up, your arms still latched onto her torso as she looks down at you, eyes wide. “Wait, are you serious?”

You hear a low groan and a hand slapping your arm as you roll your eyes, slapping the arm back as the voice of Yujin grumbles out and shuffles deeper within the sheets.

Both you and Xiaoting look at one another and giggle before she quietly slips out of bed, quickly placing a kiss on Yujins head before grabbing your arm and leading you out of her room. Once outside, she firmly grasps your shoulders. 

“Okay, now tell me everything.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You nervously stand outside of Ningnings apartment, bag clutched in hand as you look back behind you. Xiaoting sat within her car on the side of the road, keeping an eye on you to make sure this girl wasn’t going to kidnap you or the other.

The two of you (and soon enough Yujin and Hikaru) had spent the day giving you pointers on how to go about the date. They had thrown an ungodly amount of clothes your way as well as telling you endless conversation starters and compliments to give another person. By the end of it all your head was overflowing with information that you were going to forget as soon as you head out the door, and all of your closet was sprawled on your bedroom floor and in the living room. Still, the girls seemed quite proud of their work.

All of you had consecutively agreed on an outfit that was nice, but not too nice. You wore a plaid skirt paired with a simple tank top and an off the shoulder cardigan.

Holding your breath, you ring the doorbell. You really hoped this wasn’t a mistake. When was the last time you were actually on a date with someone? You couldn't remember. After a few moments of silence, you hear shuffling followed by the door unlocking and Ningning poking her head out shyly. Her eyes light up at the sight of you before opening the door completely, revealing her outfit.

She wore an oversized plaid button up, unintentionally matching with your skirt alongside baggy jeans and some bunny slippers you thought were incredibly cute. Her hair was tied up in a messy but charming bun, held up by a hair stick with small gemstones dangling from the end.

This Ningning was completely different from the one you had met at the bar last night. Though, you suppose you were a different person now as well.

“You're here! Come in come in!” She grabs your hand and guides you inside. Flustered, you spare a quick glance behind you, and you can spot the silhouette of Xiaoting throwing a thumbs up from her car before Ningning closes the door behind you.

“You look gorgeous today, by the way,” Ningning compliments, her thumb rubbing over your fingers as she walks you through her apartment. The gesture makes your cheeks warm, and you find yourself easing into her touch like putty. It was a touch that was loving. Kind. Intentional. 

Her home was cozy, with white walls paired alongside warm lighting and paintings and other wall art lining the interior. There was an appetizing aroma that wafted through the air, and you had remembered that Ningning had offered to cook for you.

“What have you prepared for us tonight, chef Ningning?” You ask, squeezing her hand as she grins, “Well it's not much, I'm not a really good cook but I decided to make us some dumplings! A little basic, but it's the only dish I feel like I’ve actually perfected.”

“I hope this is the hangover cure you mentioned” you comment lightheartedly, and you sense a playful energy in the way she looks back at you.

“You'll find out soon enough.”

You once again find yourself quirking a brow at her vague answers, but she simply smiles at you innocently and you find yourself smiling back. It was hard to not be amused by her.

Ningning guides you to the kitchen, which was cleaned perfectly for your arrival. On the center of the table were multiple bamboo steamer baskets, as well as a large tea pot and a simple glass bottle with various native wildflowers as a centerpiece. 

The other girl pulls out a chair for you, and you teasing grin at the polite gesture, “how romantic, Ninging~”

She rolls her eyes and giggles before settling down herself, instantaneously pouring you a cup of tea as she gestures at the baskets, “go on, dig in. I’ll be personally offended if you don’t.”

Chuckling, you open up the baskets, releasing clouds of steam before revealing multiple handmade dumplings with various fillings and differing folding styles. Your eyes widen, and you simply comment, “wow,” before taking the first bite of the food.

To say that it tasted amazing was an understatement– you practically felt like you were thrown back to the motherland with a single bite, and it wasn’t long before you were filling your plate with more.

The two of you had spent the rest of the evening getting to know one another more. You had learned she was a computer science major and going onto her third year of uni, as well as the fact she was from Harbing whilst you shared that you were from Shanghai. 

“Big city girl, huh?” Ningning amusedly comments, sipping on her tea as you roll your eyes, “yeah… But I'm not rich or anything before you ask.”

The blonde feigns rejection as she snaps her fingers, “damn. I was gonna ask you to buy drinks next time we head to the bars, I think you owe me. ” She smiles at you, and it's warm.

You liked this. You liked how easy it was to talk to her. It was never this easy before.

Soon enough you had ended up on Ningning’s couch, browsing through movies aimlessly as the hefty meal threatened to send you into a food coma. The blonde lay comfortably in your arms underneath a blanket, her eyes occasionally fluttering shut as you continued to search for something to watch.

“Hmm, what about… Velocipastor?” The name completely throws you off guard, prompting you to click on it, skimming over the description as you feel the vibration of Ninging lazily humming beneath you. 

“Oh that movie is really good, trust me.”

“... Really? Are you sure, Ning?”

“Yeah yeah…” Her eyes were already shut as she spoke, nuzzling in closer to you as you chuckle, putting on the movie as you wrap your arms around her, pulling her in closer. 

Honestly, the movie seemed to be an excuse for the girl to be physically close to you– maybe get a nap in? You weren’t even sure if she was watching the movie at this point. Still, maybe it was for the best. Velocipastor was definitely not well funded within its production, that much could be seen. Plus, you couldn't complain about having a cute girl in your arms.

“Does your head still hurt?”

Ningning’s soft voice rings out, startling you. Honestly, you were getting pretty invested in the film, you had thought she already fell asleep.

“Mmm, a little. I don’t think your hangover cure worked.”

“Oh, the dumplings weren’t the cure.”

Your head cocks to the side as you tear your gaze away from the tv screen, looking down at the girl nestled on your chest as she looks back up at you. There was that all too familiar glint in her eyes again.

“Then what is?”

A mischievous grin curls on her lips before she leans in, connecting her lips with yours. Still a bit sluggish from the night before alongside a hefty meal, her kissing was a bit sloppy, but it was soft. Much softer than before.

You feel yourself almost immediately sigh into the kiss, and you would have found it embarrassing if she didnt guide her hand up your chest, to your neck, and into your hair, soon deepening the kiss. 

Not expecting things to escalate so soon, you couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper as your hands landed on her hips, nails digging into her sides desperately as she laughs against your lips, pulling back. 

“You’re really cute, y’know?” She purrs, using her hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face, and you can see the hint of pink spread across her lips as she smiles, drinking in the sight of you.

Before you even have a chance to respond, Ningning tackles your jawline, trailing kisses down your face and onto your neck. You try to respond, but when she starts to nip the side of your neck, the words you wanted to say somehow managed to melt into complete mush.

“Mmhmmhgh…” 

The sound that escapes your lips allows you the chance to actually feel embarrassed, and you slam a hand over your lips, looking away from Ninging. Your response elicits another laugh from the blonde, and you swear you could listen to the sound forever. 

Her symphony soon quiets though, and Ningning looks you straight in the eye, her gaze softening as she opens her mouth, struggling to find the right words to say.

“Look, I know we just met…” she trails off for a moment, almost a bit shy to continue, “but if you want to give me a chance and see where this goes, I promise I’ll treat you so well.” 

Her eyes are filled with genuine desire for you, and you couldn’t help but feel… Isolated? Targetted? For the first time you feel like you’re seen, and you don’t know what to do about it.

She presses on, “I’d really like to see you again, and I know you’re going through a lot right now but I want to be there with you every step of the way. I want to see where this takes us.”

“I want you, y/n.”

Your face heats up instantaneously, and you swear your eyes were threatening to bulge out of your skull right then and there. You look at her in silence as you struggle to find your words, and after a few seconds you finally croak out,

“I… I want to see where this takes us too, Ningning.”

Her eyes brighten at your response, and she beams, pulling you into a tight hug on the couch before interlocking her lips with yours once again. You giggle into the kiss, and throw the blanket over the two of you as the movie on the tv buzzed on. For the first time, you found someone warm enough for you.

[daisygirlwrites]

Rookie Mistake

Summary: Alternative title, How You Got Your Call Sign

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, minor character death

Pairing(s): Task Force 141 x fem!Reader (Platonic)

Note: No use of (Y/N). Only description of the reader is that she’s short

a/n: hey there! first and foremost, big thanks to @einno-arko​ for editing it! please check out her page! it has been a long time since i’ve written a fanfic so do forgive me for how rough this is. it is also 3 in the morning as im typing, woops. also, would love to hear feedback so i can make improvements in future works. thank y’all!

Being short has its advantages at times. For your job as a sniper, you could be placed anywhere without being seen. During your basic and special forces training, where most people are at least a head taller than you, you were taught techniques for someone only your size can pull off. 

The man in front of you is probably the tallest person you’ve seen on the field. At least two feet taller than you and all muscle. ‘Tank’, his teammates call him. Truly matches the description.  You try not to think about how one of his hands can wrap around your neck and squeeze the life out of you.

Instead, you pull out your knife and charge towards him. He runs towards you, arms up and ready to take a swing. Expecting a punch, you lean your upper body forward, keeping your head low. On your last step, you push upwards with your foot. Tank misses you, his stance uneven and his legs still wide open.

For a millisecond, you thought about slicing the area between his thighs, making things easier for you in the long run. Instead, you stick with the training that’s been engraved into your head. Diving in the open space between his legs, you run your knife through his inner thigh, hoping it’s deep enough to at least damage the femoral artery.

Tank lets out a scream and staggers forward as you slide down on the floor. With his back to you, you push your body up and sprint towards him. The ideal situation is for you to get to him and pull his head back enough to slice his throat. But life isn’t always ideal.

To your shock, he quickly gets up onto his feet and turns around, facing you. As if his strength doubled, he knocks the knife out of your hand and, for a split second, your eyes follow the knife as it flies across the room. That was all Tank needed, grabbing both of your arms and lifting you up. Yeah, you should have just sliced his dick.

It was at this time that the rest of the team entered the room. The sight was almost comical; you being held up, legs dangling like a rag doll. Tank casts a quick glance from the corner of his eye. All four men with their rifles up, pointing towards the two of you, but it was the one with a skull mask that made his body break out into a cold sweat. Four against one are really bad odds, especially with an injured leg.

Tank still has you held out, practically using you as a human shield for the upper half of his body. But with your insistent wiggling and attempts at kicking him, it becomes more difficult for him to keep a grip on you.

He knows that he probably won’t leave this room alive, and he’d rather die than to surrender. Tank goes through his options, looking at the small soldier in his hands. ‘Should have grabbed them by the neck.’ As soon as he makes a move, the men in front of him will too.

“Just drop them mate!” A heavy Scottish accent is heard throughout the room.

Tank stays silent, eyes darting around the room, trying to find the means of escape. His train of thought became illogical. As he looks around his environment, he tries to avoid meeting the eyes of the man with the skull mask. ‘Ghost’ is his name. His dark eyes never leave Tank’s.

If he’s going to Hell, he won’t be going alone. Spotting the window to his right, his body moved before his brain could process what was happening. Tank twists his upper body and, with the last of his strength, he hurls you through the glass

During your time with the team, which was about six months when you first joined, you’ve kept quiet. Never raising your voice and only talking when you’re addressed. So, when they hear you yelp and let out a high-pitched scream as they watch your body crash through the window, they would have laughed if the circumstances were different.

As soon as your body stopped shielding him, Ghost took the shot. He watched as the large man slammed down to his knees, blood running down his face from the bullet hole on his head, before finally falling forward.

Getting thrown out the window sounds fun, besides landing on the glass and the very high chance of death. Any other person would have a couple of broken bones, but it seems like you had lady luck on your side today. For one, the warehouse is only one story high, and you’re all padded up. Without your gear and helmet, there would have been more puncture points from the shards. But the impact from hitting the ground doesn’t leave you unscathed. Something is probably broken, sprained, if not bruised. You don’t feel it now but it’s going to suck ass later. Laying on your side, you look around, trying to not move your body in the process. There are probably hundreds, maybe even thousands, of glass shards surrounding you.

“ROOKIE!” Soap comes running towards you.

You open your mouth, wanting to tell him to be careful but Ghost’s rough voice cuts you off. “Dammnit Johnny, watch out for the fuckin’ glass!”

Soap slows his movements, making calculated hops to avoid the sharp shards. “Heya lassie, how ya feeling?”

Not having the energy for a filter, you responded. “Felt like I got thrown out a window. Fuckin’ hell, Soap, what do you think?!”

Seeing his eyes widen, you immediately regret the words that came out of your mouth. “Holy shit, Soap. I am so sorry.”

He lets out a hearty laugh as he stops before you. He gives you a look over, trying to find any visibly large shards of glass embedded in your body. Seeing as there isn’t any visible, Soap sticks his hand out. Surprised to find how badly your arm is shaking, he gently grabs your forearm and pulls you up.

“You really are Ghost’s mini-me,” he chuckles.

“Huh?”

“Already picking up his humor and stealing his catchphrase.”

“Oh!” You look down, thanking your balaclava for hiding your flushed face.

With his arm under yours, you lean on him, slowly limping your way towards the rest of the team. Price took another look at you, spotting at least a dozen little glass shards that punctured your jacket and pants. “Best to have the med team take them out of you. The heli will be here in five.”

You can feel Ghost’s eyes burning holes into your head. You realize that during your next training sessions, he’s going to roast the ever living fuck out of you about what happened today. Dread begins to sink in.

—

 With your left arm bare and the interior of the heli cold, you try to minimize your shivering so that the medic can properly do their job. You guessed that the guys would at least wait until you get back to base before they made jokes, but you were very wrong.

“Rookie, you literally got yeeted out the window.” Gaz was the first to break the silence.

“Yes, Gaz, I know.”

“We should have a contest to see how far each of us can throw her.” Soap barked out, joining in on the teasing.

“I would prefer not, Soap.”

And it went on for a little while longer, and you, again, were thankful for having your balaclava on so they wouldn’t see that you’re dying on the inside.

“Probably gonna stop calling you Rookie now.” Much to everyone’s surprise, they turn to Ghost.

You tilt your head, confused, before he continues. He stares at you, the heli quiet besides the hum of the wings. A beat later he speaks up again, “I think I’ll call you Crash.”

You follow with an immediate, “Oh hell no.”

At this point, Soap and Gaz are giggling like schoolgirls. Price turns away, lips pulled tight but his shoulders shaking up and down in muffled laughter. Ghost’s eyes narrow, but you can tell he has a smug grin under his mask.

“Crash it is then!”

“Don’t encourage him, Soap!”

“Sorry lassie, it’s law now, we outrank you.” He smiles at you.

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you let out a quiet chuckle. Lifting your head up from your hand, you quietly say, “Fine. Just don’t tell anyone about this”

You watch Soap nod and Gaz give you a thumbs up before you pull down your balaclava, giving them a smile.

[woncherie]

hello <33 finally posting part 3. i hope you guys like it!! small reminder that im not a native english speaker i hope i didnt do too many mistakes..

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: afab!reader, no pronouns used, bully!scara, bullying, sub!scara, reader makes him a sub lol, nsfw, mentions of alcohol and drugs, finger sucking, spit play, thigh riding, degradation, blackmail, rimming, pegging, pictures are taken, usage of ma'am a few times, he sucks our dick!! light spanking (please tell me if I missed something)

wc: 4.9k

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

lab reports were handed in in time, protocols werent your problem anymore and you got good grades on papers that you didnt even take a look at. things really changed after the party a few months ago.

you didnt get thrown at with food anymore, no one was there to trip you, your property wasnt destroyed anymore. its as if he completely forgot about your existence. at this point you dont even know if he remembers your face anymore, you havent seen your favourite bully in weeks other than on hallways, but even there he was very quick to choose another path to not see your face.

its been a month since the incidence in the library, and nothing else happened between you. how could anything have happened? he doesnt even look at you anymore.

at first you enjoyed your peace. people started talking to you more, you went to more partys and hangouts and met new people, but after two weeks of silence from scaramouche, you started getting a bit tense too.

you didnt expect him to actually leave you alone. you thought he would be putting up more of a fight than just puss out like a small kid, and no matter how hard it was to admit.. you kinda missed him.

at one point you got so annoyed with his behaviour that you even tried to meet him yourself, bumping into him in the hallway to start a conversation, but all he did was apologize half-assed and then go back on his way, not even taking a glimpse of your face or outfit (which he used to love to make fun of).

you were fed up with him. you cannot believe that after everything that happened between the two of you he can just act like nothing happened, going on with his life without even thinking about you. him ignoring you made you even more mad than when he gave you too much attention.

it was hard to admit, but the indigo haired man never left your thoughts. it wasnt like you two actively talked before, but now all you did was wonder. about him, about how his day was, what he did, how he is feeling.

the irritation was written all over your face, and all that albedo could do was watch from the sidelines. you still didnt tell him what happened, at this point you were so far into this shit you dont even know how to explain anything.

"is everything alright?" he said after a few days, laying on his tummy on the floor of your apartment, your organic chemistry book in front of him, but instead of studying he just put his head on it, using it as a pillow.

"what should be wrong?" you mumbled, scrolling through instagram right next to him on your carpet. your head was at his feet and his at yours, taking a look over to him when he spoke up.

you two ordered some take out and waited impatiently on the delivery before going back to studying. exams were getting closer again.

"you seem to be lost in thoughts the past few three weeks. is everything right between scaramouche and you?" he asked while checking the time on his watch.

"yeah, what should be wr- wait what." your heart dropped for a second and you threw your phone away, sitting up straight. "how did you-" you started.

"oh c'mon." he answered and rolled his eyes. "respect my intelligence. it doesnt take a genius to understand that at least something happened between the two of you."

you looked at him with wide eyes, shame and guilt being written all over your face. "how..??"

"just look at you two and how you act around each other. you two are practically undressing each other with your eyes during the lectures."

you hid your face in the palm of your hands, embarrassed at the whole situation. "i am so so sorry. i shouldve told you." you apologized. "i was just.. scared about your reaction?"

"you should be." he returned, sitting up slowly before looking at you. "i have a lot of things to say about that special relationship. but maybe you should explain what happened before." he gave you the opportunity to explain.

you threw yourself at albedo and hugged him tightly. "oh my god, i need to tell you so much that happened. ok so remember ittos party.."

☆

scaramouche was currently laying in bed, another random women naked next to him. he tried everything, he tried everything, to forget you.

your ugly face followed him in his darkest dreams, your annoying character was running around in his head all the time, and he even caught himself daydreaming about the two of you every once in a while. all the time.

but absolutely nothing was helping him. he thought maybe he just needed to get laid again, to have any random chick pleasure him for the night and he would get back to be his old self, that he was just thinking with his dick the past few weeks, but no. even after sleeping with multiple women who werent even good to begin with, he couldnt get you out of his head.

he was frustrated, so fucking annoyed, that he let it out on everyone who is somewhat close to him. his friends were trying to figure out what or who made him so miserable, but he doesnt talk to anyone of them.

instead of approaching you and talking it out he decided it would be the better idea to just party, smoke and drink his feelings away. after a few days he would forget you and what happened. but thats what he told himself for weeks now.

the women next to him came closer, trying to touch his chest, but he just hissed at her. "do me a favour and fuck off." he didnt even know her name. he didnt care enough to ask. he couldnt even describe what she looked like.

"h..huh?" he heard her gasp next to him, feeling a bit betrayed by his behaviour right now. "did i do someth-"

"fuck off i said." he groaned, using his arm to place it over his eyes. he just hoped that she would leave as quickly as she came, letting him pity himself in peace without anyone chewing his ear off or them expecting that he cares about them.

he didnt care about anyone of them, fuck, he doesnt even know their names, the only name in his head was yours. and he was sick of it.

the girl stood up and grabbed her clothes, leaving the room as she put them on again, and scaramouche let out a deep groan when he heard the front door closing. fucking finally.

he turned around in his bed, laying on his stomach and checking his phone. he was hoping that maybe you would text him again, but you didnt.

he took his pillow and threw it over his head, trying to burry himself in his bed, trying to burry these feelings.

what were you doing right now? were you together with your ugly blonde friend again?

just thinking about albedo makes him wanna throw a few punches around the room. he never cared about that nerd anyway, his victim always being you, but right now? he's exploding just thinking that you spend your precious time with albedo than rather messaging him, or talking to him.

what did you even see in him? he's fucking boring, head constantly hiding between a few books. he probably doesnt even have a personality to begin with.

were you sleeping with him?

after all the things you did to scaramouche, he wouldnt be doubting that you maybe also fucked around with your best friend. the thought of it made him jump out of his bed, throwing his pillow against a wall before heading to the shower.

he was so lovesick, he couldnt even admit how jealous he was. fuck, he misses you. he misses you so much that he set his mind to visit you after showering, even though he tried his best to ignore you. he couldnt do that anymore.

☆

you were laying on your bed, your books and tablet scattered around you. you tried to concentrate on your studies, on how you felt before you started to fuck around with scaramouche, but you only sighed frustratedly. albedo was right. this was all a big mistake.

albedo left some hours ago, giving you some space for yourself to think about the whole situation, but you instead chose to study and ignore the aching pain in your chest.

albedo gave you a whole lecture on how stupid you were, on how you're gonna get your feelings hurt and mind destroyed by scaramouche, and you knew he was right, you really did, but you couldnt help but feel the way you feel right now.

your train of thoughts got interrupted as someone started banging against your door furiously, and you stood up in surprise and hurried to the door, not checking who it was before opening it.

in front of you stood your favourite indigo eyed man, hair messy and very obviously annoyed and irritated. he didnt even ask or say anything, just pushed you away to enter your apartment.

you were surprised to see him here, after ignoring you for weeks and getting out of your way on purpose when it always used to be the other way around.

"i fucking hate you!" he shouted in your face, pacing around in your apartment, trying to find any words.

"chill out for a second, handsome, how did you find my address?" you asked him, closing the door behind him after scaramouche entered your comfy 25 m².

he just rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "ask me something more difficult next time." he quoted his old text messages.

"the fuck you want here anyway?" you answered him annoyed but also somewhat adrenalized. this is the first time you talked again after like 2 weeks? 3 weeks? you couldnt even remember yourself.

"you! i fucking hate you." he yelled again, coming closer to you before using his arms to push you around a bit, getting physical with you. you stumbled a few steps back but caught yourself in time before landing on your ass.

"you just show up in my life and turn everything around without even thinking about me!" he cried out, his own hands finding its way in his hands and pulling on his own hair. "the past few weeks i tried everything to forget you, to forget the way you make me feel, but.. i just cant."

you raised your eyebrows in shock, not expecting a confession like this when he first entered your home furiously. "what do you mean?"

"FUCK. i mean that i cant stop thinking about you. i cant stop thinking about how you touch me. you ruined me for everyone else. no one compares to how you make me feel, and i hate you so much for this." he paced around your small room again, his eyes moving around from you to the floor and to you again, arms moving around everywhere.

he was stressed as hell, and he didnt know why he was here, in front of you, digging his own grave, but there he is, embarrassing himself to his bones.

and all you did was stand in front of him, looking at him with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing like a fish, trying to find fitting words. you couldnt explain how you were feeling right now, you just knew that you were incredibly happy and relieved.

"say something." scaramouche nearly begged, being frustrated with the whole situation.

he wanted things to go back to normal, to have you under him, doing anything he says without being told twice, to do all uni work and still humiliate you for funsies.

but thinking about going back to that time also hurt him, thinking about how you wouldnt talk to him more than you needed to is something he didnt want.

you slowly stepped up to him again, definitely getting closer to him and his personal space than anyone else dares to do, and you use your finger to lift his chin up, looking at him mockingly.

"now was that so hard to say?" you looked down in him. his face turned red again, trying to ignore your wandering eyes on his face, looking on the floor, eyelashes already a bit wet from shame and embarrassment.

"look at me when im talking to you." you demanded, squishing his cheeks between your fingers again and he looked up to you, breath stammering and gulping.

"is this what you want?" you raised one eyebrow mockingly, the grin on your face getting bigger and bigger.

scaramouche became frustrated with your behaviour again, too embarrassed to admit that yes, he needed this.

instead of answering, he pushed you back again, but followed you, shoving you on your own bed.

your back was pressed to the mattress and scaramouche sat down in your lap, leaning forwards before he pressed his lips on yours aggressively.

you were surprised at how eager he was, but no way would you let him lead and dominate you. this is your job.

you threw off all the books and your tablet from the bed with your arm in one swift motion, and then grabbing scaramouches waist as you change position, rolling on top of him while he is laying underneath you.

he didnt let go of the kiss, of you, his arms wrapped around your neck while your hands press down on the mattress beside each side of his head.

he let out some soft sighs and pants throughout the kiss, occasionally letting out a gasp or muffled moan.

you took the opportunity of you being on top, pressing your ass on his dick and making him moan more often now.

his hands wandered from your neck into your hair, pulling on them desperately as you suck on his tongue. god damn it, he felt fucking amazing.

you started undressing him slowly, breaking the kiss to remove his shirt, your lips on his right afterwards again before he could even take in a breath.

you didnt care though. you waited so long for him, you want to break him apart now.

you started kissing from his lips down to his jaw and neck, giving him bites and hickies all over that area. "you've been waiting for this for quite some time now, havent you?" you teased him, rocking your hips on his as you gave his collarbone special attention.

"fuck.. fuck yes." he groaned out, trying to grab your hips but you grabbed his hands immediately, pressing them down above his head.

"dont even think about this." you threaten him, and he looks at you with wide eyes. "i will not be touching you if you dont listen to me. understood?" scaramouches eyes widen in surprise, ready to whine out. he cant have you leaving him hanging once again, he needs you more than anyone else right now, so all he did was nod and look into your eyes.

"use your words." you demanded.

"y..yes."

"is that all?" you asked in a harsh tone, making him feel so much smaller than he actually is underneath you. his face got a soft pink blush around his nose and he looked away, everywhere else but in your face right now. "yes.. m..ma'am."

you could feel your pussy clench at the way he looked so embarrassed as he called you this name. you lived for embarrassing him.

"good boy." you answered and you could feel his dick twitch right through the shorts you were wearing.

you started kissing his body again, this time taking your time at his chest as you felt it heaving so cutely for you. "id love to fuck these tits." you grinned, looking up to him and seeing him hide his face inside the crook of his arm. "maybe next time."

his heart stopped beating for a second before it sped up in pace right afterwards. next time?

but before he could ask anything, you stood up from his lap, grabbing his waist once again before turning him around and pulling his pants down in one swift motion.

"H..HUH?" he asked surprised, looking back to you and seeing you eyeing his ass again. just thinking about what happened last time made his dick throb in his underwear, already being stained by precum anyway.

you were very happy with how things were right now, scaramouche underneath you and submissive, letting you use his body to your liking.

"ever got your ass pegged?" you looked up to him with a big grin, visibly ecstatic before pulling his boxers down too and touching his butt.

"n..no why the fuck should-?" but before he could finish his sentence you sinked your sharp teeth into his ass, biting him until there was evidence of your teeth on his butt.

he let out a small scream and let his head fall back into his neck, eyes closed in pleasure and pain. "i fucking hate you." he then said and you only giggled silently.

you stood up from his legs, grabbing into your nightstand to pull out your pretty pink dildo and scaramouches eyes widened in shock and lust, jumping up immediately.

"aint no way this gonna fit.." he mumbles.

"dont worry. ill make it fit." you returned, grabbing his hair and pulling him closer to your face again, pressing your lips on his harshly.

he opened his mouth instantly, welcoming your tongue in his mouth. fuck, he really cant resist your touch.

he leaned into the kiss and let out a small moan when your fingers graced his dick, playing with the tip and using his precum to make him wetter.

you let go off his lips and his dick and he let out a whine. he waited so long for this, dont stop now.

but instead of kissing him again, you leaned a bit back and pressed he colorful dildo on his lips, and he looked at you, slightly confused.

"what are you-?" he started, but you already pushed the tip of the sex toy into his mouth.

"sadly i didnt prepare any lube.. guess your spit has to make it wet now."

seeing scaramouche choke on the dildo made your heart swell in pride and joy, he really looked majestic like that. he grabbed your hand quickly, scared that you might shove it down his throat completely.

his heart was beating faster, scared of messing up. it was the first time of him sucking on a cock, he didnt want to look like a fool, he didnt want to disappoint you.

he tried to relax his throat to take the toy more in, sucking on it and looking at you through his lashes. inch for inch he took more in, putting on a small show for you.

you couldnt help but gasp a bit, pussy wet and aching for him. but you had to hold back, this was about him and his pleasure now.

"see, so you can be a good boy for me without throwing a tantrum. no need to be so bratty all the time.~" you teased him and he tried to look at you angrily, the toy in his mouth ruining it a bit for him.

you were still in your clothes which bothered both you and him, so you let go of the dildo in your hand, but scaramouche held it firmly anyway.

you quickly got rid of your shirt and shorts, sitting in front of him in your underwear while he was completely naked. when scaramouche saw your body in front of him, so close, he let go of the sex toy in his mouth and instead stared at you, biting his lip, trying to hide the faint blush on his face. he thought that you looked stunning.

you took the dildo out of his hand and kissed him again, pressing him onto his back while he leaned into the kiss, hands grabbing into your hair.

while kissing him you grabbed into your nightstand again, this time pulling out a bottle of lube.

scaramouche opened his eyes at the noise and let go of you when he saw the bottle. "wait what?? didnt you say you dont have any?" he bickered around and you laughed silently. "of course i have lube. i just wanted to see you suck on my dick." you teased him once again.

"you fucking bitch." he returned, visibly angry and embarrassed again, hiding half his face with his hand.

"oh c'mon, you looked really stunning. the show you put on made me nearly loose my control." you said as you kissed his jaw and neck downwards to his chest and tummy, getting dangerously close to his dick, which was still standing and throbbing regularly.

"cute. how can you satisfy anyone with this small cute dick?" you bullied him and he turned his face away in shame. "fuck off." was all he said, ready to shove his foot up your face but you only giggled and pressed a kiss on the inside of his tender thigh.

you heard him let out a small whimper, back finally relaxing against your pillows as he closed his eyes. you just smiled against his thigh and pressed down a few more kisses on them before taking the bottle of lube, opening it and using it on your fingers.

you grabbed the insides of scaramouches knees and pressed them up to his hands, signaling him to hold them.

it was embarrassing for him, but he didnt care anymore. he just wanted you on top of him, destroying him completely, so he held his legs and spread them, being completely naked and open for you. "good boy.." you mumbled as your fingers started rubbing on his anus, making him shudder at the cold feeling.

"we need a safeword." you said, looking up to his face and he opened his eyes in frustration. he thought you would finally fuck him properly.

"safeword?"

"yeah.. in case you dont like it anymore." you explained it.

"i know what a safeword is you dumb fuck." he said angrily, and you gave him a slap on his dick, making him moan out in pain and pleasure, arching his back and shoving his butt closer to you.

"dont get too comfy now." you said, and he looked at you apologetically.

"fuck just choose anything! i dont care."

you took his dick into your hand, stroking him a few times and watching him mewl in pleasure.

"coconut?" you asked.

"y..yeah yeah whatever" he said, enjoying the pleasure that you were giving him right now.

you took your lube smeared fingers and slowly inserted one inside of him while watching his face and facial features.

his eyelids fluttered and he bit his lip, grabbing the bedsheets as he tried to get used to the unknown feeling. you didnt move your finger yet, waiting for his consent.

he slowly opened his eyes and gave you a nod, signaling you to move your finger, so you did. you kissed him on the lips again, trying to make him ignore the initial pain in his butt.

he wrapped his arms around your body again, kissing you a bit sloppily as he moans into the kiss, moving back onto your fingers.

after a few minutes you heard him mumble against your lips. "m..more" he said before pressing his lips on yours again. you took the invitation to slowly insert a second finger into him and you felt him flinch and whimper against your lips. you let go off the kiss too look at him, but he pulled you back down again, not wanting to let go of the kiss.

you moved your fingers and he whimpered against your lips, biting down on your underlip. man, you really wanted to ravish him, but you had to hold yourself back a little more, for him.

you started scissoring your fingers and scaramouche started enjoying it a bit more, all kinds of moans and groans leaving his mouth. "f..fuck this feels so.." he started, but got lost in pleasure, losing his train of thought once again.

after a few more seconds you pulled out of him, making him shudder underneath you, opening his eyes slightly to look at you. "just do it now." he started bothering you again and you gave him a slap on his thigh. "shut up."

you grabbed underneath the bed and pulled out your strap on, making his face heat up slightly, but you only smiled at his reaction and put it on.

you’d never ever felt this way around anyone before - you could feel your panties growing more soaked by the second from anticipation. but it really wasnt about you right now, it was about him.

scaramouche really didnt expect to be fucked senseless when he made his way over to your home, and yet, his mouth was dry and his face was hot with embarrassment? fear? neediness? he didnt know. all he knew was that he wanted this feeling gone and your body on top of him.

scaramouche sighed happily when he felt the toy slowly, very slowly gliding into him, head falling back as he winced at the initial pain. you paused for a moment, letting him get used to the feeling.

after a few seconds he nodded again, signaling you to push in deeper. he groaned as you pushed in further, the size of you causing a burning sensation, even despite the lube and preparation earlier.

you pressed light kisses around his forehead, cheeks, jaw, neck, trying to calm him down.

he breathed heavily as you pushed in more, more, more, filling him up deliciously before bottoming out inside of him. scaramouche felt like his whole skin was burning hot, tears pricking in his eyes as he grabbed your arms, pulling you down to him and pressing your body on his as he wrapped his arms around your body.

you pushed your hips back towards his, rolling your hips in a slow pace as his body twitched underneath you.

"fu.. fuck i hate you so much." he reminded you again and you laughed in a low tone, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face. "want me to stop?" you asked and he locked his legs behind your back, taking up your space to move away.

"no!!" he gasped as you continued to pound into him, head thrown back into the pillows as moans, grunts, your name and even a few ma'ams leave his lips continuously. a very visible bulge appearing on his stomach made him gasp out, tears leaving his eyes and smearing all over his face. "dont stop, fuck, please dont stop.." he moaned out loudly.

"i should stop." you continued to tease him. "after all these months of you destroying my life, it really should be fair if i leave you hanging." you grabbed the inside of his knees, pressing them to his chest and putting him into a mating press. "you deserve this."

scaramouches mouth was left open, tongue hanging out and drool leaving his mouth. he was completely gone, trying his hardest to concentrate on what to say. "s..so-sorry. im so sorry fuck im sorry" he slurred out, trying his hardest to not come too quickly.

"is this how your mother taught you to apologize?" you grunted, slapping his thigh and ass hard, making him mewl out.

"fuuck I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have put through you all tha-fuckk." he moaned out, looking down to where your and his body connected.

"I will stop I will stop I promise I won't bother you anymore just please..make me cum." hearing him choke on his own words made your chest fill with pride. you finally broke him.

his hands tried to hold anything of you, grabbing your bra that you still wore and opening it, throwing it away, his eyes all over your chest now, watching the way they bounce while you fuck him hard.

he was fucked out and you barely even started, using his body as a mere fleshlight for your toy, teeth gritting as he felt a familiar sensation build up in his stomach as the toy continuously pushed against his prostate, making him see stars through the tears in his eyes.

"cu- cumming. fuck im so closesoclosesoclose" he slurred out, completely drunk on pleasure.

"eyes on me." you demanded, and he looked up from your chest to your eyes. "want you to look at me as you come." you continued, and scaramouches heart skipped a beat. fuck. you really wrapped him around your finger.

you took your hand and grabbed his penis, playing and stroking him a bit to increase the pleasure, sending him off the edge as he came all over his body and your hand. you took a few seconds to fuck him through his orgasm before slowly standing still, only both of your heavy breathings heard in the apartment.

you smeared the cum that was left on your hand on his chest and stomach, painting him full with it as you teased him again, his body still shaking and spasming underneath you.

"fuck, i could do this all day." you said and he bit his lips at the thought of that.

"not gonna take any pictures this time?" he asked and you grabbed the polaroid camera on your nightstand.

"oh you bet i will."

☆☆☆

HELLOO <33 this is gonna be the last part i dont think i have much to add to the story anymore.. i hope you all enjoyed it and thank you so much for hyping me up the past 2 weeks <3 it really meant a lot, you guys made my days and nights.

[izoom02]

Previous | Next Masterlist

“My cold class president”

Pairing: Class President! Wonwoo x Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Summary: You have a crush on your class president, Wonwoo, you are trying to get close with him, however.. he keeps giving you cold shoulder, what will happen if he became jealous because you interacted with another boy? (his rival A.K.A Mingyu)

Warning: some curse words

Notes: hi guyss! Uhmm its been a while since I posted (10 months omg..) I came to apologize for not posting for s long time! And also I’ll be dropping the heeseung smau since I lost motivation to do it, and again I apologize for it! Hope you guys enjoy this one thoughh, I also might make it a smau.

———————————————

YOUR POV:

I sighed an wonder what did I do to make Wonwoo despise me… I started taking down notes that Mingyu sent me, his notes is well written and make me understand the lesson better.

The next day, I went to our school, I went to the library to revise the notes I took last night, it was quite easy thanks to Mingyu, I was about to head out but I was stopped by my math teacher telling me to distribute the books from the rightful owner he collected from us last week which I obliged, It was really heavy.

I pouted because of Wonwoo’s message, I dont even know why I like him, I just do. I waited for Mingyu to come, I cant stop overthinking why is he cold to me, Mingyu saw me and helped me carry the books, we chatted about our upcoming quiz, he noticed that I was a bit blue and asked “Whats wrong?”, “Oh nothing! Im just wondering why is Wonwoo always cold especially to me”, he paused for a moment to think and said “I dont know why but im sure he is just doing his role as the class president, dont worry he doesnt hate you”, I smiled at his words and went to our classroom.

———————————————

WONWOO’S POV:

I saw Wonyoung’s post, which bothered me a bit, just a bit.. I dont know why, im just tired from my responsibilities.

The teacher went in, so does Mingyu and Y/N.. I dont like how close they are..

I can’t focus properly because of them, should I do something? Should I ask if we can go home together? As a friend though.. nothing more.

———————————————

If you guys wanna be on my taglist, please tell me!! And also, I hope you like this one , im sorry for any error or cringy part

[softness-and-shattering]

So i dont wanna quote directly bc I think you should have the experience yourself.

I just wanna say.

Leigh Bardugo threw out some incredibly raw and erotic lines in Hell Bent. Like they've stuck in my brain and I could quote them at you. The power and effectiveness packed into those like. Five lines over the course of the book.

And then. She follows them by. One time the character literally goes into a quiet room and waits till his erection goes down. One time the scene just ends but in a way thats clear that nothing happens between them. Just. Nothing. Just "wow I feel intense how about I dont ever act on that".

Theres slown burn and then there's, idk, literary edging?

The characters dont even admit to themselves how they feel about the other yet. Not to each other, *about* each other.

Its been two whole books! And you think Id be used to this with griddlehark but idk.

Like oh my god I have not seen writing like this before. Like "Im going to drop the horniest line and then keep going like I didnt". MA'AM. MA'AM.

And in these glimpses they are obviously incredibly kinky and like.

Anyway theres a handful of fics on ao3 and its really interesting to see which writers are drawn to which aspects of the characters more than others depending on how theyve written their scenes.

So this has been my horny on main post, idk how to end this, byeeeee

[shoezuki]

Shoe im too sleep deprived to go zooming on all those screenshots and redownloadong the bird app, may i ask what is happening w the dream drama u posted? I love ur summaries, they make me laugh about things i am gratefully unaware of

My beloved anon im sorry it took me this long. But i am lazy. No other reason really. So i am now chronicling this dhit on my phone. And oh fuck dude is it a trip

SO. this fuckery began with quackity announcing the QSMP. He did so on the 17th of march and whatever the fuck. He mentioned it earlier than this (edit: just checked but the First announcements was the 10th)

And this is all great. New server that fucks. But what truly started all this. Was dream's tweet on his private twitter.

Im gonna try to be kinda impartial qnd jus. Explain it all as is but first i gotta say who says this shit lmao. So quackity announces his new project and is very passionate about it, he tweets more on his alt(?) About how much it means to him to bring his two languages spanish and english together. And dream on private is like 'wow cool! Guys dont get mad at me when i announce the same thing later tho haha' its just so weird.

But anyways. The usmp wasnt even A Thing. Only written instance of dream makin a multilingual server was in a tweet defending himself from copying quackity. (Altho he allegedly mentions in streams or whatever wanting yo do things w other ppl from other languages? But that shit dont count n im not diggin audio n videos out fuck that).

The actual, official announcement of dream makin a usmp was april 2nd (idk why this says the 3rd but whatever) wherein he announces the 'first multilingual smp' with a list of languages that will be on it such as portugese, spanish, english, russian, etc. And that it has live translation.

The same day, quackity releases a tweet labelling the qsmp as the 'first multilingual smp' and that he is introducing a live translation system to it. Mr beast connects that the usmp and qsmp are similar to which dream responds. Quackity doesnt respond, nor does he acknowledge the usmp at all.

Dream's response is essentially theyre different in that qsmp is spanish and english, he announced his live translator first, they had 'similar good ideas'.

So. This sparked a lot of drama and discussion. Because of the 'first multilingual' bit in that people began discrediting qsmp as it was 'only' english and spanish, and therefore was bilingual and not multilingual. Altho others countered thid by saying quackity himself called it a multilingual server in his streams. Not to mention the idea that the translator was copied but regardless both those things are kinda stupid arguments and just drama inspired by the comparisons.

More notably is that dream team were making fun of the 'first multilingual server' bit after this. Dream was liking some jokes at it as well

Dream also liked some. Vaguely sexual/romantic 'they should just kiss already' art of him and quackity?

Also after this dream started somewhat addressing/replying to quackity more. Quackity didnt respond to any of it.

Dream also tweeted this on his private the day after

Most narrowed in on the 'this wouldnt have happened without quackity' and was often interpretted as dream saying quackity HELPED him w it in some way or that there was more collab behind the scenes but we will find that to be false. Because. On april 27th. Dream dropped his magnum opus. Which i will include in one screenshot.

Anyways i seriously encourage reading the full thing here because its. Something. Theres so much. It is literally 1.7k words. A lot of it is repetitive but i will. Try. To summarize it.

Essentially dream is writing that he has been trying to contact quackity for some time now with no response. He has been messaging him about how theyve ended up with similar servers (therefore noting that neither one know of the other). This gets nothing. Dream tries contacting quackity more publically with jokes. Nothing. He starts going through secondary sources by talkin to ppl to message quackity for him (i think some people who dream knows that are on the qsmp. Unsure who) but quackity doesnt say shit. Dream is being absolutely ghosted.

Im also noting this last paragraph in his first tweet where he describes being 'taken back' when quackity announces the qsmp live translator after his usmp announcement, because he 'knew it would cause more drama'.

He says he messages quackity so they can plan how to deal with the 'vitriol' between the teo 'communities' and that the drama can be solved with 'communication'. He is ghosted. He also mentions that he puts the usmp 'on hold' in the 2nd tweet so it all can be dealt with and he can 'extend love and support to quackity'. Most notably he says that its alluded that quackity wouldnt let ppl who were on the usmp couldnt be on the qsmp which dream tries to say makes sense for quackity to do.

Theres apparently a fucking image limit on the tumblr app which ive hit so i am now not using images and speedrunning this shit. But im quoting this one thing exactly as its most important:

"That being said, I’ve seen the communities split against each other and have tons of hate build around this and around the speculations of peoples motives and friendships and so on, and it’s really really harmful to the community as a whole. I have seen more threats, doxing, fights, slander, and hate between a bunch of fan bases that I’ve seen in a very long time. I personally have experienced an elevated level of in real life threats & stalkers & even had the police involved in somebody showing up at my house, & even putting trackers on my family vehicles, surrounding this drama, for the first time since pre-face reveal. That’s really why I feel like I have to say something about it despite me wanting to avoid any kind of serious talk about all of this, especially even talking about communication publicly feels wrong but necessary in this instance. I never like to air out anything that feels or is private, but I feel like in this case it’s really important for my fan base to be aware of my intentions, motives, thought process, and how we got to where we are. I’ve always been a creator that’s very open with my fan base about everything going on in my life and this is a massive thing right now for my friends & me"

His last tweet begins with him saying he 'doesnt want anymore drama' and ends eith him saying he loves quackity and believes this is all just a miscommunication.

Now, obviously, shit blew up. Hes been ratiod a few times by people meming it. Ive seen many people on quackity's 'side' saying that the usmp doesnt even exist yet, dream is the one causing drama, etc. And people on dream's 'side' saying quackity is being horrible and needs address this because its caused dream to be in danger. Most importantly. Quackity didnt address it at all.

But then quackity announced he was going live in an hour. And a lot assumed hed say something. But he didnt. His stream was roughly 15 minutes long and it was entirely quackity announcing that he was introducing brazilian/portugese speaking streamers onto the qsmp.

Anyways. Theres a lot of details but my hand hurts now. A big thing is whether qsmp or usmp was 'first'. Imo theres a lot more pointing towards quackity having had this is store for a longass time, as he had been hinting and a project of his for months and more notably the qsmp is so organized and put together i doubt he couldve had it finished up 'after' dream as dream's nonexistent server was an idea he got after that squidcraft thing in early March i think?

More recently (i think today) i saw that quackity apparently took two emojis off his twitch that were dream roblox characters and i saw people freaking out in r/dwt2 about how quackity could be so petty? But ya. My condolences if youve read all this.

[obitv]

i know ive written about it a bit before but oh my GOD im messed up thinking of. how william wouldve discovered his powers. because he NEVER got training he just figured it out. and presumably his friends in deadwood wouldve. also been there.

like. ok. lets say your friend goes missing. in the town where that happens a lot and there isnt much to be done, and your friend was one of the people investigating those disappearances. and now hes hone. so you scramble a bit - but he comes back! yknow he looks a bit shaken up and when you Look at him hes a but.. blurrier than he should be, but hes still your friend!

until suddenly you reach out to grab his arm and you go through it. or hes sitting down and falls through the chair, or accidentally walks into pole but doesnt notice because he went through it. you have to do a double take one day because you SWORE he wasnt that tall yesterday, and you look at his feet to see if he got some new shoes, and hes floating. without seeming to even realise. someone startles him one day, and he just fucking pops out of existence.

but, you think, hes still your friend! still the same william wisp, just with some uh.. quirks. yeah. just a little bit sttange, but hey! you live in DEADWOOD. itd be weirder id he was a totally normal person. sure, disappearing into the woods and coming back with ghost powers is... concerning. but hes your friend. one of your best friends. so your little ghosthunting group agree not to freak out over it and try to help him. he doesnt even know what happened to himself, so you all decide to get to the bottom of this. together.

the last power comes a bit later. youre running a little experiment, seeing what all he can do now without anyone around to freak out. someone jokingly asks if he can astral project, and you see him close his eyes for a second. and another. and another. until he fucking drops, like puppet with its strings cut. and left there, where your friend had been standing just a moment before, is... his fucking ghost. glowing a bright blue with spectral flames licking up his form. he opens his eyes, sees the expressions on your faces, looks down. you can see when it clicks for him, what he just did. his eyes widen and he starts hyperventilating (do ghosts need air?) and crouches down to try poke.. himself. but hisnhand goes right through.

and then, like he was never there, the ghost is gone and your friend shoots up from the pile he'd landed in with a gasp. and he. he looks like hes seen a ghost! and you make that little joke to yourself and you just start to laugh, and laugh, and nobody else is laughing but youre doubled over holding back tears and you manage to choke out the joke and he stares at you, eyes still wide, and you think they flash blue for a second but then he joins in on the laughing, until all of you are sat on the ground giggling at absolutely nothing because what the fuck else do you do after that! fuck! your friend is really a ghost! shit!

william takes longer to calm down, you think. its kinda hard to tell, because none of you are really ok after that, but conaidering he got to touch his own corpse, he definitely had it the worst. he describes it as.. something that doesnt fully make sense to you, at the time. maybe not ever. like he suddenly has all this.. energy. like he can feel the souls around him and the fire that fuels them and how it feels like falling and flying all at once. how he never wants to do it again but never wants to stop

so he tries again. and again. not all at once, obviously. a couple days apart, usually. he gets more confidant with it, able to leave and return to his body easier each time. it freaks all of you the FUCK out though, because as soon as william... leaves his body, it just. stops. his breathing, his pulse, all of it. but he seems to enjoy it, at least. you all agree, separately but together, not to tell him how badly it freaks you out. he seems to enjoy exploring these powers, excited to learn everything he can do and how they can be MUCH more effective ghosthunters now

then the attacks start.

or, well, to put it better would be then the attacks become noticeable. youd all seen your fair share of monsters out in the woods, but running away has always served you well when youre out of your depths. until, of course, it doesnt. they start roaming closer to the border at first. nothing too crazy. then.. all of a sudden... as soon as your friend goes into his wisp form (as it had been dubbed), something lunges. william goes to.. push it away, you think? and a stream of blue fire shoots out of his hands. because sure!

and yeah. thats cool at first. it scares the thing off, something youd all sucked at before, and he looks tired yet proud. but the attacks keep coming, and coming, and soon it stops being "one monster when theyre in the woods" and starts being "one monster when theyre literally anywhere". they never seem to attack william directly, but they always run straight to him, and anyone whos around when they find him... isnt always so lucky.

someone puts their foot down, then. no more wisp form. youve pieced together that its clearly not good, for the town OR for your friend, whos taken to wearing makeup pretty mych every day to avoid comments on how tired or sick he looks. you tell him, straight up, how fucking terrifying it is to watch. and he lets it out too - how every time, the rush is more, the pull stronger. what pull he doesnt say, but you can tell its not one youd want him to follow. and he agrees. no more wisp form, unless the situation is dire.

the attacks dont stop, though. he stops leaving the house. they never seemed to go after his parents, you think. just when hes out in the open.

then, one day, hes gone. just like that. his teachers stop asking when he'll be back to school, and when you go to his house to check on him his fatger tells you very firmly that hes been sent away to a boarding school for his safety. you wonder if thats true. there were rumpurs that a man with pink hair was seen in the town recently, and youve heard that they have training academies for heroes on the big cities. but you know youd never be allowed to know if thats true or not.

the attacks stop though. you overhear someone at school talking about some new up and coming heroes called the prime defenders. hand picked by the prime force, they say.

you never get answers from any calls or messages you try sending to your friend after he leaves. but if you and your friends decide to stay a little bit more up to date on the prime defenders, well. who can stop you?

[hello-naptiime]

Hi gang

I see were talking about Jonathan Piss ass ToiletJon again

And as someone who was fucking THERE, WORKING FOR HIM WHEN EVERYTHING DROPPED

Oh my FUCKING GOD AM I SO PISSED OFF.

Welcome to my rant/vent

Mutuals look away Im sorry

Tw// for grooming and manipulation. General gross things in that area

Also Jinbop.

First of all Ashlie and Jon did was gross, but where Jon failed at literally everything Ashlie succeeded.

When the news dropped of what happened in 2017 Jon made a fucking video of him crying like a little man child, and then pressed charges (also doxxed himself like an idiot) WHICH IS INSANE BEHAVIOR. Even in his written respone he was only making excuses.

At that time I was in very close connection with him, I was on his build team, I played multiple games with him. He would come into vc and hang out with us for several hours, you could consider us friend maybe! I wouldnt.

But I was at the very least in a lot of personal servers.

So when things dropped I knew almost all of the behind the scenes BULLSHIT that was happening. How everyone waited for it to blow over and stuck by him. (I got kicked out of servers too cause people knew i was against him but I was still told everything by friends who were still in there)

Then February happened. And so much more, much worse things got exposed. From only his end. I won't mention who was involved, out of privacy reasons and because I dont want to drag them into this. But holy shit dude everyone left him after that. It was over, his gross behavior with minors (included me now that i think about, sir why are you calling me and my friends cute we are 15-) His awful and manipulative behavior with people he finds useful, how he treats his teams

. He never credited anything, I made his goddamn Dimensions s2 designs, Eddie made the skins. Only Eddie was mentioned, once on a stream.

Eddie also made designs and skins for Rosethorn, and got credited in video no less.

Its not that hard and yet!

The main point is

He was still acting in 2020, the incident was in 2017. And he was acting like this, in late 2020. Into 2021.

I wanted him to get better. I really did, I had been hyperfixated on this group of people for years it hurt a lot.

But its been almost three years and he infact has stayed the same!

He is a grown ass man acting like a toddler on a public twitter account, what makes this man some one to respect in any sort of way.

Theres so much more shit I know about this man, that I can't fucking say because of the people involved not giving me permission too. And I respect that. Thats their story to tell.

Now ashlie on the other hand.

Ashlie made a concise apology and owned up to her actions, shit she made sure not to happen again. She went to fucking therapy, she broke off that relationship first and has made so much effort to distance herself from that and apologize everyday of her life.

She went to therapy after breaking things off, and she went again after the callout just to double fucking check she wasnt a horrible person.

She initially handled everything that happened in 2017 in private, like youre supposed to do. Not have a public twitter meltdown. And in late 2020 still handled mostly everything privately. She wrote out a full explanation and apology that is still very visible on her yt channel, not her twt her full 100k subscriber yt channel

I THINK, THATS GROWTH and she should be respected for that. She's actively changed as a person from the 20yr that made mistakes

And what's crazy is that Max and Ross still make youtube videos with her.

Max and Ross, YKNOW. The people who made sure fucking Jinbop got arrested and stomp Sky's name into the fucking ground for the shit that Sky did. I 100% trust those two to make a decision about a person in their circle when theyre doing some FUCKED SHIT.

IN FACT, THEY DID DROP ASHLIE WHEN THE ALLEGATIONS CAME OUT. SHE WAS IMMEDIATELY KICKED OUT OF EVERYTHING INVOLVING THEM

And they came back. They came back and started making new things and videos with her, Ross is an active participant in almost all of her videos.

I think that speaks wonders about her.

Don't drag her name through the ground I respect that woman and all of her endeavors in the future, she has more than made up for the fact.

Jon is still an awful person, and I dont think he will ever change. He's had more than ample time to and acts like whinny child on Twitter. Actively tries to pull nostalgia bait on his dying yt channel and mocks his ex "friends'" work. I want him gone from the youtube sphere and to get an actual life.

[tokyogruel]

For the milgram ask game, Kotoko for 6, 8, 12, and 19!!! :3

6. favorite relationships with another character in the prison?

its so cliche to say mahiru i think but truly- mahiru. theyve got such a playful relationship and the way mahiru talks so sweetly to/about kotoko makes my heart melt.

and ive been thinking a lot more about her with shidou... they dont directly interact, but theyre fun to think about... shidou "im left to clean up the aftermath of your actions" vs kotoko "i dont care if youve been overly-forgiven by the warden, i will not let you get in the way of justice" also... 5 + 10? YELLS

what is your theory for their crime? if there is general consensus on it in the fandom, do you have any other, not-so-widely-accepted thoughts on it?

i feel like kotokos crime is pretty straight forward: vigilante justice carried out as vigilante justice usually is; poorly and with grave consequence

and hm... my thoughts on it.. well, i definitely dont think vigilante justice is good, ever. one person should never be judge, jury, and executioner. but with kotoko... i want to know more about WHY she is driven towards vigilante justice.. what has driven her so far to the point where she is willing to burn all her bridges, distance herself from others, spend her hard-earned money and drop out of school for the chance to kill someone she deems to be a bad person- even though she risks going to prison after the first time she ever draws blood? why is she risking so much, for so little?

12. what do you wish would be discussed more often about them in the fandom?

god. anything and everything. kotoko is very widely ignored by fans unless they are interested in her, specifically. and it sucks! she is such a weird character, but such a good character. you say you dont care about others, yet you claim you want to protect the weak, but if they get in your way regardless you will crush them. what drives you? what happened to you to make you think like this? why are you so back-and-forth?? i also want to see more people talk about how she potentially has DID, its one of my favorite theories. i want to see more discussion on the wolf-theming, and why her headspace seems to be a barren desert. i want people to talk about how, even if she does terrible things- she is not beyond saving, there is a kind and gentle heart hidden away under her layers of fear and trauma.

but i do wanna ask a few questions to the audience, and let you all take a moment to stew on her character before deep cover...

what do you think happened in her past to push her to believe vigilante justice should be her path?

what do you think drives her to focus on the specific targets she has in harrow?

why do you think kotokos victim looks so much like fuuta?

who do you think the 3 different girls are in harrow? do you believe one of them may be kotoko herself?

what could she possibly gain from draining her life savings on a false sense of justice?

why do you think she actively pushes away any sense of connection in her life?

in regards to her family members, why do you think she mentions these specific people, in this specific order? (for your reference, her family interrogation answer is thus: (taken from the milgram wiki)

19. what do you think their childhood/teenage years were like?

bad. LMAO. i think she went through a majorly traumatic event as a child, and she's largely blocked it out of her memory, but it still drives her actions today. i wont go into detail on it now, because i fear it would be very very triggering for others (and deserves its own, carefully-written post), but i believe her past may consist of the following: child abuse, sexual assault, and trafficking

edit: as for her teenage years, i think this is when she really started to self-isolate. she probably didnt have many friends to begin with, and pushed the remaining ones away at this point. she probably dove head-first into her vigilante research first, and her studies second, and everything else beyond that was just noise to her

[thegeminisage]

star trek update time. once again, i've fallen behind, thanks again to hades. sunday* we watched "equilibrium" and "second skin" and last night* we watched "the abandoned" and "civil defense."

im typing this at fuck o clock monday night its scheduled to go up without me tmrw morning

equilibrium:

hi, sorry, the cold opening of them having dinner here......i could have watched a whole episode of this alone. odo learning to cook. kira thinking he's cute (HI???). bashir being precious about beets. sisko best cook ever. it was so good and i was a little wary when jadzia ruined it with a trill mood swing or whatever i was like damn this episode won't make me like dax any better unfortunately

actually though the episode was fine. the hallucinations were decently scary and i liked getting to know jadzia a little better ie about her hatred of doctors

it was also nice that 1. bashir stopped being a freak about her and 2. her hair is less big now. her falling asleep in his quarters (and her wanting the bottom bunk bc of curzon falling out of a tree) was so cute actually. i want to like her!!! i'm trying hard.

i also really liked the mystery in this episode, but if we're talking times a trill has been traumatized by going into a bad host, what about that one guy who stole her in like season 2 or whenever...?

i wish dax had gotten to apologize to kira also :( women should be kissing not fighting

i do LOVE when sisko calls jadzia old man. i think it's so fun. the gender of it all. i also really liked his little line about how he still misses curzon sometimes but would also be devastated if anything happened to jadzia. dax both is and isn't curzon, both is and isn't jadzia...where that divide is and what makes up dax vs what makes up jadzia is really fascinating to me, i wish we explored it more

scene in the pool at the end i was so afraid she was gonna get naked. thank god.

second skin:

hhhhholy fuck

so, i loved this episode right up until the very last second. firstly, every kira episode is great. she's fantastic and so well-written and such a talented actress, i'm obsessed with her. secondly, we flirted with an amnesia plot for a hot second which was so fun. thirdly, what the FUCK

i love also, hi, that kira unpacked so much of her thoughts about the missing week of her life in odo's office. he's literally her sounding board. is this thing on? they love each other

the sheer raw fucked up factor of kira waking up AS A CARDASSIAN. she looked like she wanted to tear off her own skin and who can blame her. i hardly recognized her

GARAK IS HERE. i really love whatever he's going going on with sisko. "this is extortion" "yes it is" and also "that's the first totally honest thing you've ever said to me" every single conversation they have is like. garak flirts for fun and for sport with everyone in this show (INCLUDING KIRA???) and sisko is constantly meeting him in the middle . also, him putting the fear of god into that ship that tried to board them <3

the mystery of this episode was so intriguing. i was on the edge of my seat waiting for the gang (INCLUDING ODO!!!) to rescue kira. i wanted to figure out the Truth, bc obviously she's not a fucking cardassian. but i do feel they dropped the ball a little at the end

firstly, it seems too convenient that kira happens to look SO much like the real illiana that her OWN FATHER could not tell them apart. yeah, yeah, ten years, but are we serious rn?

SECONDLY, i don't think kira getting teary when given this keepsake (which was already weird) and declaring this cardassian dissident to be a "good man" is very IC. she's only come to that kind of understanding with one cardassian before (guy who pretended to do war crimes), and given the traumatic nature of this whole ordeal, i would have expected her to have mixed feelings/have trouble expressing this aloud, even if she did believe it. so we ended on kind of a weak note there, overall though incredible experience

the abandoned:

first, when i said "give odo a baby" i did not mean it like this.

second, dad sisko. my best friend sisko. sisko holding a baby, sisko missing his own baby, sisko sisko sisko my beloved

uhhh sisko not doing good with his own son because...drummroll please...jake is still dating the dabo girl

i genuinely thought this was a throwaway line but we have a whole fucking PLOT in here

i don't understand sisko at the end of this ep being like "yeah they can keep dating." ik this show is 30 years old but JAKE IS SIXTEEN. THE DABO GIRL IS 20. she seems nice and definitely she shouldn't be judged for being a dabo girl and if this character were like 18 i'd be like, okay, that's two years, she's only technically an adult, but TWENTY? at this age, 4 years is a HUGE gap

also, her tits were pushed so far out i wasn't even sure if they were real or not...HE IS SIXTEEN. like yes he knows what tits are but she is an ADULT??? eugh.

ANYWAY, odo's quarters!!! i like that he finally has a real room and doesn't just live in a bucket at work like presumably the cardassians made him do. kira bringing him a housewarming gift and wanting a peek at what he had going on in there was genuinely so sweet i wanted to kerm. i'm glad we got that since they argued later BUT win for me bc we also ended the episode on them

rip odo's trauma :( lab specimen ptsd meets founders identity crisis for a total fucjing breakdown. he did pretty good considering

civil defense:

10/10 EPISODES THIS ONE WAS AMAZING

lots of really fun sisko moments in this. i love when he gets to save the day and i love when he hangs out with jake. jakes was extremely brave and helpful too he saved their asses a bunch of times. today he got to be one of the grown-ups

GARAK IS HERE! i love how he showed up to help and then everything became immediately worse. every time you'd think "it cannot possibly get worse than this" it does

odo and quark essentially being locked in an elevator together. odo calling him devious (honorific). quark calling odo a guy with integrity (derogatory). i still don't Love quark but he's extremely funny and his scenes with odo are always a riot

STAR OF THIS SHOW GUL DUKAT. he showed up to laugh at their predicament and generally be unhelpful which was pretty funny but also i was a little mad at him and then he threatened kira which made me REALLY mad at him (she was so solid though she didn't budge and inch hell yes girl) and then he. got trapped on the space station also which was FUCKING hilarious. like i had been just mad enough to enjoy seeing him suffer under the reverse uno and find it IMMENSELY satisfying. you thought GARAK was a cringefail loser at getting this space station to work? he has nothing on gul dukat, who managed to not only make it EVEN WORSE but lock himself out of every system on the station. incredible work

absolutely though the best part of this episode BY FAR was when gul dukat was flirting with kira and nobody realized it but garak and he called him out on it 1. humiliating him in front of his crush 2. roasting him (bc anyone could see kira would have better taste) 3. reminding him that he's married 4. propping up kira herself bc garak supports women's rights and bajorans rights and also their wrongs. garak diss track when.

anyway, this episode hit the perfect balance between tense and funny, every single character had something fun to do or say, fucking excellent television

TONIGHT: um. um the first tng movie. um. the one with. the one where. please don't make me say it

[putyourcigaretteoutonmyback]

────────────────────────────

do i,

one person out of eight billion, on a planet that's bathing in a sea of stars and galaxies,

even matter ?

────────────────────────────

if i was gone it wouldn't affect the world all that much, maybe the people around me, but that's temporary. we all die anyways, don't we? people say life is short yet it feels so, so long despite how the days will pass me by. how ill sit in bed doing the same things, scrolling on this phone, recognizing I should get off, get up, go do something, yet still, I remain unmoved. in my bed. on my phone. and the next days the same, and the next, and the next. my days are all spent the same, what good does living do me, really.

one small person in a universe full of things that have far more potential then ill ever have or live up to. a quit exit would be taking pills, or jumping in the river only a quick drive from me, maybe drown myself in the pool.

ive planned it in my head, sort of anyways. i could sneak out in the middle of the night, walk hours just to find the bridge, to feel the cold railing before ive sunken beneath it. or i could take a ton of pills, though that's not guaranteed. neither of them are i suppose. its funny, really, how suicides something ill always think about. it's the only constant on my mind; even if im happy, out with my friends or family, it lingers. what if this is the last time i see them? the last time they see me. it gets worse when I'm sad. killing myself would take evey feeling ive ever felt away, and id be gone.

i wonder if death is peaceful, i wonder what happens once we die. everyone does, i think, yet it remains unanswered until it happens. tons of reasons to stay, but tons to leave. sometimes i think about how if i do have another life after this, ill never know since it won't actually be me, it won't be my second life because itll be someone completely different. theyll have a different name and face, a different conscience because they won't be me. ill be dead, and someone else will live their life.

when you put it like that, do second lives even exist? if it won't be someone with the same conscience, someone who won't know of your existence, then really, it's just someone else.

“ in my next life I want — ” not your next life, someone else's life. someone completely different. and sometimes, i wanna be something, i wanna be everything, but thatll never be possible. i cant live every life, study every animal whilst learning of every movie ever made. i cant read every book written or listen to all the music that was created on this planet, and that frustrates me.

alot.

i wanna be soft, gentle, but at the same time, i wanna be loud and confident. i wanna get better, to live without the need to criticize my every move, every feature on my body or every word i said, but at the same time, i wanna get sick, be the worst i can be. cut my skin every day, go weeks without food, stop showering, give up, all in the hopes someone notices. to simply let go, to see how it feels, to see if it's any better then trying to be good, to be kind, better then putting in the effort to get out of bed every day, to shower, to do laundry.

back to suicide, i guess. its a sin, isnt it. but is god real? so many things yet to be proven. if god were real, why would he waste time with such insignificant things such as humans, much less care about the sexuality of someone or what they choose to believe in. god is cruel, afterall. someone could spend their whole life being good whilst believing in a religion other than christianity, and guess what. to hell they go. someone who's suffering, who sees suicide as their only way out, to hell. the rapist of someone who committed because of them, they repent and suddenly their a saint. to heaven, of course. what makes someone a good person, really? is if how often they compliment others, is it whether or not they pick up the money someone dropped and return it to them? to be a good person must you believe in certain things, does your past define how good you are? what does it take to be defined as good.

life is unfair, really. you're born into a body, into a family, you're raised, taken care of, unless you arent. the people you're surrounded by as you grow completely dictate who you become, and you cant control that. the body you've got from your mom, the addiction gene from your father, the nose and face you hate from generations before, stuff you get stuck with. you can't change most things, sure, workout, starve, do as you please but that doesn't change the structure of your bones or the people who made you. plastic surgery is expensive, and youll be called fake anyways, so is it worth it? I wonder why it's so hard to like myself.

i really dislike my face, my body, my personality and my voice. the little comments people make, whether they intend to cause harm or to not. they linger within my mind, floating in a thousand other thoughts i have yet to think deeper about. i guess thats what im doing right now. i would be journaling this but my hands hurt, so now whoever sees this gets to decide if they wanna read this. thats probably why i made this account. to rant, to vent.

something i really can't imagine is being anything older then I am right now. being an adult, growing up, it seems so impossible but i know it's not because i see it all around me every day. maybe it's because since from a young age, i always thought id be dead. that id kill myself before the age i am now, before i ever got to be a parent or employee. i still think that, probably, because i still wanna kill myself and its still set in my mind. “ i wont be anything more then what i am right now. ”

maybe its true, maybe its not.

the question “ what do you wanna be when you grow up ” was always hard for me. i never knew, i mean, my childish dreams of being a youtuber were there but that's it. i have no idea who i am or who i wanna be. theres so many jobs, but only so much time to do them, so many careers require a certain course in school, which tends to be expensive. what if i choose something i end up hating? what if im stuck for the rest of my life and miserable. im scared of growing up, of making the wrong choice.

on that topic, sex. its scary, really scary. what if i lose it to the wrong person? of course, i could wait till marriage, but divorce is always a possibility so even then. who would i consider the right person? im not sure. itll probably hurt, what if they see me naked and change their mind? someone seeing me naked is scary. maybe ill just die a virgin, lame, but atleast i won't have to be vulnerable. what if I bleed and he says ew, what if it goes wrong, what if what if what if.

my mind is full of what ifs, always. what if the hangout I have planned goes wrong? what if I get made fun of? maybe I think too much.

thats probably it for now, read it or don't, I wish tumblr said how many words it had. maybe it does, not sure, anyways, bye.

[summonhouse]

did u know !!!!! i am . INTERESTED in your characters and u should Tell me all about them

WAA WAA WAAA (HITS YOU WITH BRICKS )

Heres two collections of characters .

housecats who ive detailed plenty recently. the perfect person/pp, xerox, catch 22, and amaryllis/no signal. they are (sans amaryllis) fiction aware interdimensional creatures. the perfect person is the hand of god (me as a writer) torturing and assisting fictional creatures, xerox serves to clean up forgotten and abandoned stories lest they become overrun by nightmares and void, catch 22 is the nightmares and void, and amaryllis is pps normal child.

pp's a righteous bitch, extremely erratic and constantly experiencing back and forth. to have personality while also being explicitly and only a tool for someone who enjoys hurt/comfort is existentially hellish; it cannot allow for any personal connection because it will inevitably be torn apart for some writer sanctioned angst. its also only able to do what writers are capable of and so could easily be written stripped of its powers and lives knowing it has to serve or be trashed (which it had been for a year until recently and is still recovering). xerox is nice and sweet, despite regularly killing people and fighting monsters and the other housecats being very mean to him. he wishes everyone had the clarity to enjoy their time on screen and submit gracefully when the curtains close as an inevitability. catch 22 is just miserable and wants to see everything end (as it cannot) so seeks to permanently ruin any story it could. it personally despises pp for reasons i actually cannot remember. something about stealing its partner before it turned into a creepy void centaur? amaryllis is pretty normal, half mortal and ignorant to the larger problems around it really. in canon verse its been kidnapped by catch 22 in the hopes of hurting pp or inspiring it to try and rescue it but pp actually doesnt really care so amaryllis has been left abandoned to rot away in the void. i like to think about what i call "normalverse" aus where that didnt happen and it grows up relatively normal. i think it has a very .. heady personality

heres characters for fibs story which im in the process of rewriting. i originally made it in 2019 and dropped it for 2-3 years and am only now picking it back up so theres a lot of reworking i need to do and explanation is mostly going to be recollection. its about a dog named fib (first guy), he used to be prince lye of the laurel kingdom before labyrinth (second guy), a malicious magical entity, teamed up with another canine to usurp his parents and tossed fib in a magical prison for a decade or so, where fib slowly goes mad. the usurper has since died and so fib has been released, but the magic of his binding has leaked into him and he is now cursed so that he cannot tell the truth, instead automatically saying lies which then warp reality into whatever he had stated. still he is the only one who can take title of king and now struggles to maintain control of his kingdom. he now goes on an adventure to try and track down labyrinth to reverse his curse, learning lessons along the way about self reflection, different nonverbal ways of communication, boundaries and expectations in relationships he has with others, and generally coping with immense trauma. cricket (third guy) hunts fib down during his journey; when fib was a normal boy, so was cricket, and they were young best friends before lye was imprisoned. with no clarity on the situation as someone new takes over the throne, cricket assumes that lye had simply ran away, abandoning the kingdom for worse as the new king subjected the kingdom to needless war, drafting the young cricket who dies on the battle field and resurrects through his rage, digging himself out of his mass grave and now seeking to kill fib. lie (fourth guy) is like totally nothing i just wanted to put him up there LOL hes some sort of spooky doll magical creature who seeks to manipulate fib by feigning kinship, for profit i guess

i love. to think and talk

[27-royal-teas]

YET !!! ANOTHER ANALYSIS!! And for good reason this time because people keep misinterpreting Pete’s work to be about Mikey and it makes me fucking PISSED can you not let pete have one thing in his goddamn life i get it its fine to have headcanons and opinions but PLEASE for the love of god please stop discrediting all of his hard work & good writing to be about a white boy he fucked back in ‘05 this CONSTANTLY happens with poc artists and it makes me mad to no end

yep, that’s right. today we’re talking about I Am My Own Muse. writing this essay i have listened to it a grand total of twenty three times 

i like this song a lot specifically because i do kind of relate to it a lot frequently i feel like smashing a guitar until i go insane but i dont have a guitar and i dont know how to play one regardless so. uh yeah

The thing about IAMOM is that it’s saying that in the TITLE. Hes his own muse. And obviously no one can take that away. sure , some of his songs might be inspired by someone, but in the long run, who do they come from? pete. romance songs might not be about anyone in particular. I know ive wrote songs that could be interpreted as romance, but they’re actually me talking to my younger self or my future self or my friend, and the point is, even though songs written by pete may seem like they were about someone that doesnt mean they are and you cant, you CANNOT discredit the fact that he is his own muse. just like the song title says.

The song begins with a BANGING orchestral arrangement. I think the intro to IAMOM is my favorite song intro on the album. It's just very well thought out and clearly carefully planned, and quite honestly I think patrick did an AMAZING job and I'd love to see him do a breakdown of the composition here because I am IMPRESSED. Not even to mention the vocals, he is on FIRE. anyway in the rest of this essay I’ll be interpreting the lyrics and tying them back to the central topic i just opened with: How Pete Is His Own Muse. 

The first verse is quiet, and it begins like this:

“Here i am, not sure you should take a chance

I like playing dumb, letting you figure me out

But i was faded in my own defense

So drop a bomb on the things we dreamed about”

I feel as though this verse is very clear. He isnt sure that the person he’s referring to should take a chance on him, should think that he is worth it, and he likes being able to be up to someone else’s interpretation with no outside influence. i do this frequently with strangers- i stay quiet so that they can make up their own idea in their head about me. They can figure me out themself, since i clearly cant figure myself out, and i think that’s the idea pete is really aiming for here. ‘So drop a bomb on all the things we dream about” can be referring to himself or someone else, but here let’s take it in the context that he’s discussing himself. This line is repeated in the second verse, so it’s clearly one of the main points that needed to be stated here; here he is saying to himself that (again, it’s that self sabotage) he should give it up, give it all up, it’s not worth it, destroy it all, drop a bomb on all our dreams because they aren’t going to happen. Taken together with the previous lines we can basically say that pete is saying that because he is leaving himself open to interpretation from the public, the things he truly meant to say are lost. And i think that’s the main thing here, especially with the title, and obviously im doing it myself, maybe this isnt what he meant at all, but i definitely do think it correlates along those lines to some degree. 

The chorus is repeated several times throughout the song (3 times to be specific) and it goes like this:

“Smash all the guitars ‘til we see all the stars

Oh got to throw this year away

We got to throw this year away like

A bad luck charm” 

And then that repeats twice. 

I think i can safely say everyone reading this right now has gone through the pandemic. I assume three year olds dont go on tumblr. The entire smfs album references 2020 and 2019 time and time again, most critically in What A Time To Be Alive, and it’s heavily present in this song too. “Got to throw this year away (like a bad luck charm)” vocalizes the wishes of pete and everyone else who wishes to cut those years out of their brains- pete has expressed in interviews how taxing the pandemic really was on his mental health, and i think that “smash all the guitars” could symbolize the frustration and pain he really felt in that time; destroying music (one of the main things he loves) until he can sink into that despair and just float away (“‘til we see all the stars”). Another way this can be interpreted is an act of rebellion (a lot of musical artists smash their guitars during shows, cough ryan ross cough) but i dont really think that that makes as much sense in this context. 

The next verse:

“The trumpets bring the angels but they never came

No one let them in ‘cause they didnt know my name

I know i keep my feelings so tucked away

Just another day spent hoping we dont fall apart

So drop a bomb on all the things we dreamed about”

Another very pete based verse (BECAUSE HE IS HIS OWN MUSE). This kind of links to Heaven’s Gate because it’s related to the same thing- not making it on the list, not feeling worthy of getting into heaven, because this sort of self deprecation is reflected throughout most of Fall Out Boy’s albums. I could give a million examples of this, but I don’t want to be here forever. “The trumpets bring the angels but they never came/ no one let them in ‘cause they didn’t know my name” sort of brings to mind the image of a person waiting to be carried away to something they’re not entirely sure they deserve, and they’re proven correct because no one ever came to carry them away, no one ever decided that they’d be on the list to get to heaven and the angels just went marching past and pete can hear their horns, know theyre there for people who deserve heaven much more than he does. How sad is that?

“I know i keep my feelings so tucked away/ just another day spent hoping we dont fall apart” carries the feeling of not wanting to be a burden with every emotion thought and expressed, even the good ones, and ‘we’ can be referring to himself, every single aspect of himself, hoping he doesn’t fall apart into shards of the stars his guitar is made up of. and then of course it’s the line about the bomb again, although this time it feels even more internalized and personal because it’s the second time he said it, and he dreams of getting into heaven but how can he make it up there if the angels themselves know he does not deserve to and so. drop a bomb on all the things we dreamed about, folks, because they aren’t going to happen. 

The bridge: 

“So let’s twist the knife again, twist the knife again

like we did last summer

So let’s twist the knife again, twist the knife again

Oh, i’m just trying to keep it together

But it gets a little harder when it never gets better I'm trying

To keep it together, to keep it together, oh”

To me this entire bridge just feels really deeply confessional and personal. Im going to start at the bottom because i like it the best. 

He’s trying. He’s trying so damn hard- to be optimistic, to be hopeful and stay full of happiness and love but it’s SO HARD when there’s no light at the end of the tunnel to motivate him. This is still talking about quarantine, i think; i remember i was in middle school at the time; they said that we would be back in two weeks. I remember i was grateful to get a break and time off. Then two weeks turned into two years and it got really, really hard to see an end to the pandemic. When things stop improving it gets harder and harder to keep it together when you can’t see the results of any of your actions, when you’re trying your best but it still gets you nowhere. Wouldn’t you stop trying? i know i would.

And let’s talk about “let’s twist the knife” just a little bit. “Last summer” might refer to the last album release, which is Mania (even though it was released in January). Another album cycle, another twist of the knife; another bit of words that pete has to pull out of himself like ribbons, and although he loves it, that’s his job, it still feels like dredging up all the pain again. So let’s twist the knife again, dig it in just a little deeper, just like we did before. 

So, yeah. Pete is his own muse and i truly do think that that is heavily reflected in this song, even this whole album. A lot of songs in smfs seem more him-centered, because he is the writer and he is talking about himself. So Good Right Now and What  A Time To Be Alive are especially good examples of this. 

And the interesting thing about the title is that it’s pulled from a Frida Kahlo quote, which goes like this: 

“I am my own muse. I am the subject I know best. I am the subject I want to better.”

And isn’t that just it? This whole album, it’s an album of self discovery and going back to your roots and staying current anyway. It’s patrick pulling pete out of his funk and getting him back in the game; it’s an exploration of a new style, a new fall out boy. And like a phoenix, every album they rise again, still the same but somehow completely brand new. The orchestral arrangements displayed in IAMOM and SMFS and LFTOS showcase this, the new feeling but still the same, something bettered, and I’m really, really happy with how far they’ve come not only in their expansion of music but also with themselves. And I feel like this song and this title- I Am My Own Muse- is really a stand up, it’s a show of how far they’ve come. Because they are the subject they know the best.

[sabraeal]

If the Mind Is Willing, Chapter 3

[Read on AO3]

Part three of 500 Follower prizes @bubblesthemonsterartist​ earned herself years ago! Only two more and I will have fulfilled all those fics...probably just in time to have a 1K follower raffle

Blue light washes her pink sheets pale, until it’s impossible to tell when cotton ends and her skin begins. The shadows pull longer in its glow, turning her own nearly skeletal as she reaches out a finger, hovering over the link.

“U-J-Kyo?” Chizuru’s mouth wraps around each letter, the sound of them tumbling softly into the muted glow. “But that’s just...?”

The university’s homepage. And her laptop’s, technically, now that Yamazaki helped her set it. Not something she’d normally associate with Souji’s interests, not unless he’s started some new hostilities with the provost’s office again. Their last open letter hung on the fridge until just before Thanksgiving, the second paragraph asking for “certain individuals in the student body“ to “show more conduct becoming of an undergraduate of a prestigious institution” highlighted proudly in lime green.

Dean Kondo dropped by the house only a few days later-- for a friendly visit, he’d said, smile as warm as she remembered. He’d stayed for dinner, complimenting the soup she’d made from their leftovers, and then talked with Souji out on the porch until the swing’s chains started to creak. The letter disappeared the next morning, unremarked, though Souji kept glowering at the bare metal every time he passed through the kitchen.

Chizuru swipes tentatively at the screen, messaging app blooming beneath her finger. The link’s innocuous, known, but Souji has a gift for slipping a sting into any handshake. And if he’s calling it a gift, well--

[ToudouDomination] omg holy shit dude nice knowing u hijikatas gonna kill u 4 sure 💀💀

Professor Hijikata’s taught her enough about Trojans to take that kind of present at face value.

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] *skullfuck u mean skullfuck ull b the most beautiful corpse at ur funeral bro

Her lips press tight, clinging to each other as close as the rubber case to her phone. If everyone’s acting like this about it, it’s better that she doesn’t look.

[ToudouDomination] MY funeral???!! what’s this got to do with me??!!

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] nah man im not talking ab YOU im talking ab dead man walking over here

She’d regret it if she did, probably.

[Dr 💖💋🤭] jfc I’ll say somethign nice at you’re disciplinery hearing

[ToudouDomination] Me??

[Dr 💖💋🤭] No one’s talking about you Heisuke

It’s an accident, really. Her thumb skims up the side of the screen-- scrolling past the sudden influx of skull and fire emojis the boys heave into the chat-- and the pad of it just barely brushes the link. It flashes under the pressure, blue then purple, selected, and well...

There’s no harm in just letting it happen, is there? It’s only the university homepage, nothing--

Ah. That’s what it should be at least. But instead of the azure and white, there’s text curling across the screen, a half dozen different hand-written poems in blue bic and college rule, tiled across every inch of the background. There’s coffee stains on them too, some in the corner, and some in rings, like they were more used to being coasters than literature. And in the center of it all--

“Oh.” She blinks, tilting her screen to get a better view. “A video?”

Hogyoku Open Mic, it reads at one corner, reflection on water. A strange choice for Souji; he’s never mentioned an interest in poetry, let alone live readings. Frowning, Chizuru tilts her phone, letting the video fill the screen.

It plays, and oh, several things become clear, all at once.

“My heart is pure,” the man on screen promises, words raking over the gravel of his voice-- how little of it there is marks his age more than the lack of lines on his face-- but Chizuru’s isn’t, not when she can’t do much more than stare, fingers numb around the rubber case. “I use my palm as an inkstone.”

The camera pans closer, and yes, above that black dress shirt-- open to its third button, oh goodness gracious-- is Hijikata. Not the one she knows now, the grizzled professor who kicks his feet up on the desk and uses profanity as punctuation, but--

But a much younger man, not much older than her, considering the last little bastions of baby fat clinging to his cheekbones.

[Dr 💖💋🤭] This muts be a hundred pakcs of cigs ago

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] 💯

[ToudouDomination] do moths feel desire or is that like a poetic thing he talks about rain a lot too whats that all ab

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] its a sex thing

[Dr 💖💋🤭] Shin don’t tell the baby taht

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] hes a growing boy he has to learn sometime better he hears it from us hijikata fucks 🍑🍆🍑

[Saito.Hajime] Can I please be removed from this group? Also, congratulations, Souji, on finding a new, creative way to die

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] no way if we all have to think think about hijikata fucking u have to suffer too

[Saito.Hajime] I am not certain I care for that logic

[Dr 💖💋🤭] Too bad, bud. Your stukc with us

[✨💯GAINS💪💪✨] yeah bro u signed the housing contract ur here til death comes for u or like u move out or smthn

Chizuru means to stop the video, really she does. It’s not something Hijikata would want them to see-- at least, she assumes so, considering the way he flushes every time Souji brings up his graduate school slam jams, threatening to expel him if he doesn’t ‘shut his damn mouth.’

But the one on the screen smiles as he finishes his set, smouldering out past the stage lights, and she-- she expects snapping, some cool cats with shades and berets nodding their heads to his truth or whatever mood this is supposed to give. A respectful silence, one that gives space to the idea he’s introduced to the space, but instead--

Instead there’s screams. A full audience of women-- and a few particularly enthusiastic men-- loudly voicing their appreciation for what she’s hoping is the poetry.

Ah, maybe Shinpachi is right. It is a sex thing. And she’s watched a full ten minutes of it.

Hijikata can never know. Or worse--

[Susumu Yamazaki] Take this down. Now.

[( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)] eat my ass

Her heart ricochets around her rib cage, panicked, before it lodges itself in her throat. It flutters there, queasily, and-- and there’s no way he could possibly know, but still, guilt seizes her. She shouldn’t have looked, not once she knew. She should have been the first to say it was wrong. Helpers can only help when they know there is a problem, that’s what Father would have said. If you cannot perceive it then you are part of it.

She could say something now. Her hand squeezes tight around the case. No, she should say something now. She has to, because father will ask. She’ll tell him about this frantic midnight showdown, and he’ll say, and what did you say?

And if it is nothing...

[Susumu Yamazaki] Take it down now. Or I will get university IT involved.

[( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)] you don’t have the fucking balls

[Susumu Yamazaki] Try me.

Even with her eyes closed, her failure is inescapable. The words flash behind her eyelids, no longer composed of ones and zeros but scrawled in neon lights instead, reminding her that if she were better she could have fixed this. That if she were good enough, she could have found the magic phrase to get them all to get along. But instead...

Silence, that’s what he’ll give her. A long pause where all his expectations weigh on her, piling on her chest like boulders on a criminal. A cluck of his tongue, and a soft, I thought I raised you better. Any moment now, her phone will ring, and Father will know what a disappointment she is because--

It’s Christmas. Just about everywhere but Hawaii. A couple other islands in the Pacific too, if she’s being fair. It’s Christmas, and he’s supposed to call because that’s the way it’s always been: her staying up late not to catch Santa and his Reindeer but Father emerging from his office. It’s her that would tromp down the hall with all the grace of an elephant, to fling her arms around him and yelp, Merry Christmas!

And it was him who had to be stern, who must put her back down on the carpet and scold her for being out of bed. Who has to wait until she’s nearly shut her door to stop her, to call out, Merry Christmas, Chizuru.

It’s supposed to be her first. The one given moments after midnight, the most real, and-- and--

And she’s spent the whole day waiting for an empty office.

There’s a part of her, one that’s still too short to reach the microwave and can’t bear the kindness next door, that thinks she missed it. That there’s some dead zone in the house that she unwittingly lingered in, or a notification that her phone somehow swallowed whole. That it’s her fault she never presented herself to be loved.

But there’s another part, one that’s growing every day, and that one--

That one’s just tired. 

It’s tired that wins out, in the end.

There’s a weight that drags at her, urging her to stay within the cocoon of her covers, to let the night unfurl across her screen, each blow reported in black and white right before her eyes. A passive observer, an active disappointment, but most importantly: unmoving.

Even still, she gets up, throwing the cloud of her comforter back so that she can slide out from underneath it. Her heels hit the floor with a force that chatters her teeth; or maybe that’s just the chill of the air now that her body heat is no longer trapped up against her skin.

Her phone settles on the nightstand, cozening up to the lamp, and for a long moment, she thinks about turning it on. Every muscle complains as she peels her day clothes off and exchanges them for pajamas, her eyes straining to make out what’s a hole and what’s just dead air, and yet--

Yet it’s easier than facing herself.

The same weight drops her back onto the mattress, an anchor sinking into the endless depths of open water. She isn’t sure when she’ll hit bottom, but staring at the blank screen beside her feels entirely too close to it.

It’s with a trembling finger that she guides the volume from full to vibrate. Even that makes her heart race, makes her wonder if she’s just punishing Father for having priorities besides a fully adult daughter, the same one who had so happily told him she would support his sabbatical wherever it took him. What if he needs to get a hold of her? If there’s an emergency on Borneo or San Cistobal or whatever island his research took him? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just keep it on a little, just in case--

Her fingers flex. She deserves to sleep tonight, what little of it there is left. And if this is on...

Vibrate changes to mute. The phone flips over, screen pressed against the wood.

“Good night, Daddy.” She gives the case one last, small tap. “Merry Christmas.”

“Hey, jailbait.” Something warm nudges her shoulder, not gently. Chizuru has the space of exactly one breath to wonder what, before the same something grips both and shakes. “Get up!”

“Haah?” Her hands flail out, but whatever’s gotten hold of her slithers out of her grip, retreating past her arm’s reach. “What...?”

It’s bright when her eyes peel open, the sun already seeping through the curtain even though it can’t be more than--

“Class!” Her limbs fly out, wild as she tries to turn over, tangled up in the tight embrace of her covers. “I’m late for--”

“Hold up a slice, shortcake.” Souji looms over her, tall enough that his knees barely brush the bed to do it. “No classes today.”

“No...?” It’s not as if she has anything to say, brain moving at a snail’s pace that it is, but her mouth keeps moving anyway, as if just working her jaw might help get the gears moving. Which it does, oddly enough, reminding her it’s not a weekend but a holiday, and not just any holiday but Christmas, and--

And Father never called. Unless it came in the night, after she’d put herself to bed. After she’d not only turned off the ringtone but vibrate too, leaving him no chance to hear her voice, forcing any attempts for him to contact her straight to voicemail, like she didn’t even care--

“Hey.” Souji knees the mattress, jolting her outstretched elbow right into the corner of the nightstand. “Get up already.”

Painful tingles race up her arm, bouncing from elbow to shoulder and back and, oh, why is it called the funny bone when it’s not funny at all? “Souji, why are you--?”

A bleary blink turns the blurred numbers on her clock to something like sense.

“Oh!” She bolts upright on the mattress, sending Souji skittering back a step. No wonder he’s deigned to scratch at her door; Harada might be the oldest, but of the three of them, Chizuru’s the only one that can be trusted with the stove. “It’s late! Are you hungry?”

“No.” This close, it’s easy to see that furrow flash between his brows, the quick reassessment of his opinion. “Well, yeah. But that’s not what I want right now.”

This early, her brain’s as bleary as her vision, but it won’t clear no matter how much she blinks. “Then what...?”

He heaves a sigh; her only warning before long fingers clamp around her wrist, cold as iron. “Just come with me already.”

It’s a feat to get untangled from her blankets; there’s a knit one sandwiched between the top sheet and the comforter, plus another for more weight-- and heat, since she shares her thermostat with Shinpachi and Harada, whose bodies both run at a temperature verging on medically alarming if they think sixty-five degrees is comfortable. It’s harder still with Souji yanking at her the whole time; she’s not certain whether he does it because he’s impatient or because her struggling amuses him. Possibly both, knowing Souji.

Impatience, however, wins out. One foot wins free, planting itself on the bedside braided rug, and he snaps, “Hurry up. We don’t have all day.”

She’d love to, if only the comforter hadn’t swallowed her up to the ankle, cinching tight when she tries to pry it apart. “Ah, I know! Just give me one--”

Unless she’d meant to say second-- which she hadn’t, not at all-- Souji doesn’t give it to her. Instead he tugs, and she stumbles off the mattress, dragging half the blankets with her. “Good,” he huffs, barely glancing back. “Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Souji has a terrible habit of making things worse the longer he’s made to wait, but she digs in her heels anyway. Or, well, the one that isn’t still trapped in Poly-Fil. “Can I at least put on my robe?”

“Why? It’s not like there’s anyone to see your cute little Christmas--” he squints “--raccoons?”

“Tanuki.” She smooths her hand over the fabric, one of their round faces peeking playfully out from between her fingers. “They’re just so fluffy.”

Souji stares at her, stone-faced and silent, and-- and it’s longer than that his teasing typically takes. “Right,” he says, stilted. “Whatever. Just hurry it up, Sleeping Beauty.”

Chizuru is keenly conscious of every second Souji suffers her, all-too aware of how impossible it is to win a race against the limits of his patience, but she’s determined to make the most of what she’s given. It’s hopeless to aspire to Hajime’s cool efficiency, but she tries, keeping her movements sharp and purposeful, as if putting on her robe required the same sweeping grace as his kata, and yet--

Yet she barely cinches the knot tight before he’s grabbed her again. “C’mon, princess. We’ve got things to do.”

It’s a struggle just to keep her feet beneath her, but she manages a very eloquent. “Huh?”

His mouth quirks, too pleased, as he tugs and she stumbles, bare feet barely braced against the jamb. “People to piss off.”

Ah, well that’s hardly promising.

When all is said and done, he doesn’t drag her far. A cold comfort, considering.

“This is Hajime’s room,” she informs him. His grin assures her he already knows. “And, Ya-- ah, I mean, Su-- uh, um. S-susu...?”

The name’s foreign in her mouth, tongue stumbling and stuttering around it, and it’s-- it’s just odd not to use it, when she’s so used to Souji and Hajime and Heisuke and Shinpachi and even Sano, if it feels safe to say, instead of intimate. As if she’s letting all the rest of them close while keeping him at arm’s length.

Which isn’t true. But still, she can’t bring herself to say Yamazaki’s first name so casually, not when even Heisuke, who barely lasted three hours before asking if she was cool with nicknames, hasn’t managed it. With the syllables rolling around in her mouth, it’s almost...

Illicit. That’s it. “Is there a reason you need me here?”

Souji’s mouth curls, so satisfied she’s surprised she can’t see feathers between his teeth. “Yes, definitely.”

“But they went home for the holidays.” She frowns. “Did you need something in there? I’m pretty sure it’s--”

His leg kicks back, and with one smooth swing, he completely bypasses the need for a doorknob, the open door shivering from the force.

“-- locked,” she finishes faintly. “Oh my.”

One hand catches the door, long fingers splayed across the grain. “After you, jailbait.”

She nearly balks-- it’s not as if it’s his room; he hardly has the right to invite her-- but the door swings open, and she--

She’s never seen this before. Yamazaki’s room. Or Hajime’s, of course. A tour down the hallway would be enough to get a glimpse into any of the other rooms; Heisuke hadn’t even waited a day to drag her into his, pointing out all his favorite posters. Harada and Shinpachi took a few weeks longer, though she’d spent most of that visit with her hands clapped over her eyes. Even Souji tolerated her shuffling a step over the threshold, even if it was only to ask for him to help her reach one of the taller cabinets. But Yamazaki and Hajime...

Their door has always been carefully shut, not even the slightest gap for a peek. An easy habit to explain away; the both of them value privacy over accessibility, choosing to socialize in the common areas of the house rather than in their room, but still--

It’s almost surprising how normal it is. Not that Chizuru expected it to be wallpapered floor to ceiling with centerfolds, like Harada and Shinpachi’s room, or crowded with collectibles like Heisuke’s, but maybe white walls and stark sheets, monochrome and neat as a pin. The sort of room that would seem unoccupied, if it wasn’t for the monitors on the desks. Sterile.

Instead there’s posters. Not crowding the walls, so close that the corners overlap, but there’s personality, if not chaos. Enough to know that the boy who sleeps under the navy comforter likes movies with kimonos and swords or computers from the 80s, and that charcoal comforter likes wuxia and vintage medical diagrams. And books too, if the stack teetering on his bedside table is any indication.

Chizuru shuffles a step further into the room. It would be rude to rummage, but surely-- surely it wouldn’t hurt if she just read the titles. If she just stooped down the tiniest bit and--

And tripped over Souji, shoulder-deep beneath Yamazaki’s mattress. “W-what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he grunts, annoyed. “A guy that uptight’s got to be hiding something. And not just the normal stuff. The kind of something that’s gotta be top shelf fucked up.”

She blinks. “Huh?”

“Oh come on, you know what I mean. Whips and chains.” He drags his arm out with a huff. “Autoerotic asphyxiation. Snuff tapes.” Souji reaches up, flipping over his pillows. “Yiffing. Who could say what a small-dicked little turd like him is into?”

Half those words are unrecognizable, and so it’s not until he’s on his feet, poking through desk drawers that Chizuru realizes, “You mean you’re looking for...for...” Her mouth works, cheeks painfully hot as she manages, “Girlie magazines?”

His fingers still, pressed into a sheaf of glossy page edges. “I’m trying to find porn, Chizuru. That’s what we call it this century.”

The book shuts with a snap, joining its friends on the shelf, and when he reaches for another, she blurts out, “Don’t people just watch that online now?”

Souji laughs, not kind, but abandons the bookshelf. “And everyone thinks you’re so innocent, huh, princess?”

Her hands clap to her cheeks. Ah, she hadn’t realized it could be painful to blush. “I, um...only, ah--” Souji flings open the closet “--I don’t think you should really be--!”

“Jackpot.” The hangers rattle as he slips something off the rack; with only the sunlight eking in around the blinds to light the room, it’s hard to see just what. “What do you think? Would it look good on me?”

The fabric’s black, limp and shapeless on its hanger, utterly unrecognizable. “I don’t...?”

“Nah, no way I could fit into that shrimp’s costumes.” The light might be dim, but Souji’s teeth practically glow when he says, “But you could, half pint. C’mon, get over here.”

She doesn’t have much of a choice, not when he grabs her wrist and yanks. “I don’t understand,” she murmurs, watching him separate a smaller piece from the whole, more uncomfortable by the second. “Why did you need me when you were only going to..um...?”

Steal seems a little strong for the moment. Scrounge falls a little short.

“Ahhh, see, kid, last night I left a little gift for the whole student body. Right on the main page, where everyone could appreciate it.” He steps entirely too close, the warmth of his body filling the space between them. “And our favorite little ass-kisser didn’t appreciate it.”

The scrap slips over her head, cool and smooth where it settles around her neck. “So he took it down. Or got some of his nerd friends to do it. Either way...” Souji shrugs. “It’s rude to give back a gift, isn’t it?”

His wrist twists, the cloth pulling tight against her skin. Tight enough that only a twitch guides her into a nod. “See? That’s what I thought too. Kid needs to learn a thing or two about manners. So that’s what I’m doing.” Souji grins, the fabric loosening as he lets it slip from his fingers. “Teaching him a lesson.”

“B-but...” Her focus stumbles as he steps closer, threading his hand beneath the few inches of her hair that don’t clear the fabric and pulling them free. “I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“It’s cute that you don’t know.” His smile could cut when he slips the cloth right up over her nose. “This is a hostage situation, jailbait, and you’re going to read from the script. Now look over here.”

She does, blinking right up into the blinding light of flash photography as his arm squeezes her close. “What...?”

“Perfect.” Souji’s lips slant to a smirk, phone pinched delicately between his fingers. “Now I just need to post this in--”

The lights flick on. Neither of them are near the switch.

But Hajime is.

“Just what,” he says, brows drawn down like a storm, “do you think you’re doing in here?”

There have only been three house meetings since Chizuru showed up on their doorstep, hair shorn and all her earthly possessions split between a backpack and a trash bag: the first, called by the professor, to announce that that there would be a new roommate; the second, to decide how exactly to handle the fact that Chizuru wasn’t a boy’s name, nor was she; and the third, well...

I’m not complaining that you invite girls back, Sano, Shinpachi had said, with all the gravitas of a judge, but you can’t let them wander around. She went through our trash, dude!

But this-- it’s different. Not just because of the Christmas lights, festively twinkling through their cycle, or Shinpachi’s sweater blinking through its own.

It’s that they’re all here, Christmas afternoon-- evening really, with how early the sun sets these days-- holidays cut short. Chizuru might not have anyone to spent Christmas with, but Shinpachi did, and Heisuke, and Yamazaki--

And instead they’re all here. Because of her. Not a single one of them is smiling.

It’s too much.

“I’m so sorry!” The words burst out of her, rushed, but it’s important to get them out before anyone else can speak, before they think she’s only sorry because she got caught. “I really didn’t mean to go in! I just...Souji said...”

“Narc.” It’s muffled in his shoulder, just loud enough for her to hear. And maybe others, the way Yamazaki’s brow twitches across the table.

“Chizu, Chizu. Come on.” Shinpachi holds up his hands, as if a half-hearted sweep like that could clear the slate of her worries.. “No one here thinks this is your fault.”

It’s kind of him to say, but that’s...impossible. Not when she’s so clearly transgressed. “I went into Y-Yamazaki and Hajime’s room without permission. That’s against the--”

“No, Yukimura, that’s not--” Yamazaki’s teeth clack down, hard.  “I don’t mind if it’s you. Ah, I mean--” his ears flush the same angry pink that licks up the column of his neck “--it’s, er, different.”

“You are respectful of other people’s personal belongings,” Hajime clarifies. “There is no issue with you in our private space. Souji, however...”

“Oh, come on.” Souji kicks his feet up on the coffee table, baring every hole in the bottom of them. “It’s not like I broke anything.”

Yamazaki’s eyes hone onto him-- or rather, the parts of him only inches from Harada’s iced mocha, so close a flex of a toe could touch the coaster. “Right, you only stole something. Not like that’s a big deal.”

“Stole? Like I want--” with a sweep of his palm, Yamazaki clears the surface of appendages, so precise it doesn’t even disrupt the condensation on the cup “--hey!”

He doesn’t smile, but when Yamazaki glances up at the couch, his satisfaction shines just as bright as one.

“Souji.”

Hajime is not like Shinpachi, using his outdoor voice in every room no matter how small, or Heisuke, unable to control his volume once a conversation gets interesting. He’s soft spoken, serious; the sort of person other people lean in to hear, rather than ask him to speak up.

But today, he pitches his voice to be heard. “You cannot enter someone’s assigned private room without express permission.” With even graver inflection, he adds “It is against the rules put forth in the Signed Housing Agreement.”

Souji snorts, sinking further into the couch cushions. “No one pays attention to that crap.”

Air hisses between Yamazaki’s teeth. “That’s--”

“If I am not allowed to leave the group chat unless a member of the house boots me for a pre-agreed upon duration,” Hajime says, mouth pulling thin, “then you are also not allowed in my room.”

His glare is hardly aimed at her, but it comes close enough that she flinches. Souji doesn’t, refusing to acknowledge it that same way a cat declined to be caught on a curtain, as if reality was simply an opinion he did or did not hold. “I didn’t even touch your stuff. I don’t know why you’re trying to--”

“You did touch Yamazaki’s stuff, though.” Harada shifts in his chair, the vee of his sweater dipping deep enough to bare cleavage. It might be distracting, if it wasn’t already a relief that he was wearing all his clothes. “Which is against the rules.”

“Yeah, that’s fucked up, right?” Shinpachi cracks open a tall boy, cold enough that the beer fizzes out, threatening to drip right across the festive moose on his chest; HORNY AND WELL HUNG according to the words knit into his sweater. “There’s no locks on the doors, man. We’ve all got to trust each other.”

Chizuru blinks. “But I have a lock.”

He pauses, mid-sip. “Well, I guess that makes sense. You’re a girl, after all. Can’t have a girl be alone with a bunch of guys if there no--”

“My room also has a lock.” Hajime frowns, considering the socks Souji’s just returned to the table. “Hardly a good one, if Souji was able to bypass it with just his foot, but...”

“Me too,” Heisuke chimes in. “I just don’t really use it.”

“Wait, what?” Shinpachi swivels between them, lost. “Are me and Sano the only ones who don’t--?”

“I think the best course of action is to inform Professor Hijikata about the infraction.” Kneeling on the carpet next to Shinpachi’s luggage, Yamazaki’s hardly an authority figure, but when he raises his voice the room fritters to silence. “I’m sure he can take it from there.”

Harada hums, unconvinced. “I don’t know about that. Souji’s already got two strikes against him. If we report another one, I’m pretty sure Hijikata’s going to toss him out.”

They might be more suggestions than eyebrows, but still, it makes an impression when Yamazaki furrows them.  “I don’t see why that’s any of my concern.”

“Aw, c’mon, Yamazaki.” They all might tease her about her pleading eyes, but it’s Heisuke that uses them now, as compelling as any puppy in a pet store window. “You know Souji doesn’t have anywhere else to go. You wouldn’t throw him out in the cold just like that, would you?”

His mouth pinches, bracing the way the rest of him is, squared off and utterly implacable. “Souji is a grown man who can make his own decisions. If those decisions lead to him getting tossed out, that hardly has anything to do with me.”

Souji snorts. “None of the people who complained are even here anymore.”

Yamazaki whips around, eyes so cold they could turn any other man to ice. Souji just smirks. “Yes, because of you.”

“Well, I don’t know...” Heisuke hums, thoughtful. “Ryu left because of that art program. You know, the one that had the scholarship.”

“Only after Okita shoved him off--!”

“Oh, c’mon.” Souji’s shoulder twitch, barely summoning up the energy for a full shrug. “That’s all water under the bridge.”

Yamazaki surges to his feet; only Harada’s hand, keeping him from jumping the table too. “You broke his wrist in three places! The only reason he didn’t press charges was because his foster father is somehow an even bigger asshole than you!”

Souji picks his grins the same way a chef picks his knives from the block: with the intention to cut. “No hard feelings.”

“Hard feelings?” Yamazaki chokes out. “You think this is about hard feelings? When Itou left, he--”

“Itou was a prick.”

Hajime doesn’t so much sigh as hum, raspy and dubious. “That doesn’t mean that what you did was right, Souji.”

His eyes narrow, annoyed. “Don’t pretend you miss him running around the place, acting better than everyone.”

“No, no. He’s got a point.” The easy chair grunts as Shinpachi shifts his weight back, crossing his legs ankle to knee. “They both do. You know I don’t want to kick you out, man, but you’ve got a bad habit of taking stuff way past funny right into, well...”

“An actionable offense?” Harada offers, wry.

A blunt nail taps at his can, uncomfortable. “Yeah, that. It’s not good, bro.”

Something happens with Souji’s mouth. A lot of somethings, actually; subtle ones, hidden in the corners and tucked into the cheeks, the sort that happen between one blink and the next. Missable, save for the fact that Chizuru never looks away.

There’s a jut of his lip first, not a pout but its more serious cousin, the kind that’s like a levee to a deluge: one tremble away from a flood. A scowl next, never quite reaching his eyes; good practice for the smile that follows, curving into a smirk the way steel takes an edge: like it’s meant for it.

“All right, all right.” His hands raise up, too lax for a peace offering. It might stand in for a concession, if she tilted her head and squinted, but only a little. “So you’re all mad at me or whatever.”

“For good reason.” It’s a strong stance for Harada; he’s usually the one who’s quick to compromise, so long as it keeps everyone civil.

“Sure, right.” Souji shrugs, unconcerned. “I get it. But consider--” fabric whips out from behind a pillow, matte and black-- “this.”

Chizuru blinks. “Wasn’t that in...?”

Yamazaki’s closet, she doesn’t say. Not when he shakes it out, turning it from cloth to clothing, a whole jumpsuit with fussy embroidery picked out in an even darker black.

“What’s that?” Shinpachi scoots to the edge of his chair, squinting. He must not have his contacts in. “Some sort of ninja costume?”

She knows better than to turn, to draw attention to the statue suddenly sitting across the table, but Chizuru can’t help it, not when Souji is so quick to say, “It is.” There’s enough relish in his tone that she can taste it. “And it’s Yamazaki’s.”

There’s a pause-- for effect, she’s sure, considering the way Souji grins. Like he’s pulled off some magic trick, making his troubles disappear in one hand and then plucking them out from behind Yamazaki’s ear.

“So?” Harada snorts, unimpressed. “Are you surprised? He’s been a ninja for Halloween like, what? Three years running? Since I’ve been here at least. What next? Gonna pull a sexy firefighter out of Shin’s closet?”

“Hey!” A hand presses right over WELL, leaving HORNY and HUNG peeking out from underneath it. “I’ve branched out! This year I was a sexy soldier.”

“How can you tell?” Heisuke mutters, hunched shoulders making his chest even narrower, more concave. “You’re only wearing like half a costume.”

“We’re not talking about Nagakura.” With all the subtlety of a bomb, Souji drops, “We’re talking about Mr Kiss-Ass and how he has like, five of these tucked away for a rainy day.”

It’s been three months since Chizuru managed to insinuate herself into the house, but not once has it been quiet. Even in the night there’s something: Shinpachi snoring, Harada’s flings trying to find the front door, Heisuke up entirely too late typing up papers or-- more likely-- playing video games. Something. But now--

Now it’s a ringing silence that’s left in Souji’s wake, an awkward air that has every shoulder stiff, every eye finding somewhere else to look besides the place where Yamazaki sits, still as a stone.

Or at least, until Hajime slides forward, dexterous fingers smoothing over the raised stitches of the sleeve. “Oh,” he hums, impressed. “Your skills have really improved since your last attempt. I take it this is for next weekend?”

“Ah...” He swallows, loud enough that even Chizuru can hear. “Y-yeah. The new kunai were too heavy for the belt, so I thought if I remade that, I might as well add a few more quality of life adjustments, and, er...”

“Oh my god,” Heisuke breathes, quivering like a corgi at the end of his leash. “Are you a real ninja?”

A broad hand cuffs him on the back of his head. “C’mon,” Harada mutters. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

If Yamazaki’s ears were painted pink before, they’re crimson now, hot enough to burn from touch alone. The square of his shoulders deflates, rounding with the slow leak of his confidence, but--

But Hajime simply nods, stroking his chin. “Perhaps I should look at my own as well. It hardly feels adequate next to all the work you’ve done.”

“Is this like...a sex thing?” Shinpachi’s eyes dart between the two of them. “It’s a sex thing, right?”

“No,” Yamazaki says, stern, immediately undermined by Hajime’s, “A little.”

It’s with a hefty heaping of betrayal that Yamazaki turns to him, glaring as he grounds out, “Absolutely not.”

Hajime’s mouth gives a dubious twist, and he opens it, perhaps to gainsay him, but--

But there’s no time, not when Heisuke practically explodes. “Are you a ninja too, Hajime?”

He blinks. “No.”

“Oh.” Heisuke deflates. “Okay, I guess...”

“I’m a samurai.”

“What--” Harada’s voice strains beneath the words “--is going on?”

“So let me get this straight.” Harada’s fingers pinch at the bridge of his nose, but by the wrinkle above them, Chizuru doubts it helps. “You two...dress up as samurai...?”

“I’m the samurai,” Hajime explains, so helpful. “Yamazaki is currently playing as a ninja. As he typically does.”

“You don’t have to tell them that,” he mutters. “That’s not really the point--”

“Right, of course, but...” Harada grimaces. “This is what you do on the weekends? For fun?”

A narrow shoulder lifts under Hajime’s tee, the closest he comes to a shrug. “An afternoon a month, to be more specific.”

“Once a month?” Heisuke asks, wide-eyed. “That doesn’t seem like a lot.”

“It takes a large amount of effort and dedication to keep up a long-form Live Action Roleplaying campaign,” he explains gravely. “That the organizers are able to run so often is a testament to their skill. And to run a weekend event--”

“So you mean you go there the whole weekend?” Heisuke blinks. “Like just forty-eight hours of samurai stuff?”

Hajime’s correction comes the same way as all his interactions: swiftly and without any judgment. “Seventy-two hours.”

Shinpachi goggles. “That’s a lot of fucking hours.”

“It is to aid with immersion.” Hajime isn’t a man of many words, but now he does not so much pause as he does breathe. “Unlike other games of its kind, Legend of the Five Rings does not focus so much on combat as it does internal conflict, and the robust worldbuilding--”

“This isn’t what they’re asking.” Yamazaki’s gaze darts wide-eyed around the table, never daring to stay longer than a blink. “You don’t have to--”

“--Is based on Sengoku Era Japan,” he continues, heedless. “As gratifying as it is to play on a regular basis, it really isn’t until a few hours into any session that people truly come to embody their roles. The court politics alone--”

“Saito.” Yamazaki may be seated at the opposite end of the living room, but his stare is enough to make even Hajime hesitate. “I think they get the idea.”

Harada looks between them, pained. “So are there...scripts or something?”

“No. Yes.” Hajime frowns. “It’s complicated. Each scene is improvised in character, but the organizers are present to facilitate the flow of the story. It is a collaborative effort.”

“But that’s it?” Heisuke asks. “You’re just like...samurai for a day? Or, er, three of them?”

“Yes.”

“And you do this--” Harada’s eyebrows furrow, pained “--for fun?”

Hajime doesn’t answer so much as cock his head, hands outspread as if to say, what else?

“That’s so...so cool!” Heisuke leaps to his feet, practically tripping over the table in his excitement. “Can I go? You guys gotta bring me!”

“What?” Harada blinks at him. “You want to go to this?”

“Uh, yeah?” His hands clench, too excited. “You get to be a samurai, Sano! Who wouldn’t want to?”

“Hey, so.” Shinpachi leans in, face pinched in curiosity. “Is this like...D&D or whatever?”

“In spirit,” Yamazaki creaks out, looking like death warmed over.

He nods. “Right, right. So like...a total sausage fest, or...?”

“The numbers on many tabletop games typically skews toward male,” Hajime explains, “but Live Action Roleplaying draws a higher percentage of female participants. Possibly due to the cosplay aspect.”

Shinpachi grins. “Oh, then count me in too, sensei.”

Harada stares at him. “Who are you?”

“What?” Shinpachi shrugs. “It’s math with babes. What’s not to love?”

“Ah...” Yamazaki waving hands don’t do much to hide his grimace. “I don’t really think this will be as interesting to you as you think...”

“He’s right,” Harada presses. “You may think it’s a good place to pick up women who aren’t afraid of, er, theoretical numbers--”

“They’re not theoretical,” Shinpachi huffs. “They’re real, it’s just the equations used to describe them are--“

“See? Already my eyes have glazed over.”

“I don’t know,” Chizuru hums, pitched just loud enough to be heard. “I think it sounds...fun?”

Yamazaki’s stare fixes on her. “Really?”

Even as a girl, Chizuru had never been one to play dress up, never been one to play pretend-- father didn’t approve, for one. Not when there were more direct benefits to be had from drilling flashcards or reading books. A second, her daydreams were vivid enough she hardly needed to act them out, not when Father was so apt to remind her, princesses don’t have to pass their medical exams.

But Yamazaki is as serious as they come, a TA for the dean of the pre-med department even before graduating. His acceptance to the medical school almost assured, and he finds this worth his time. Enough to have made a costume-- with his own hands!-- and sign up for a whole weekend away from his studies...

“Y-yeah.” She ducks her head, hoping to hide the heat that pricks at her cheeks. “I mean, as long as it wouldn’t be a bother for me to, um...”

“Ah, no! I mean, yes. Never.” Yamazaki shakes himself, pink staining the high arch of his cheekbones. “It’s not a problem.”

“Yeah, Chizu!” An arm clamps around her shoulders, dragging her against Shinpachi’s personal light display. “That’s right! Let’s all go. House field trip!”

Yamazaki’s jaw drops. “I don’t, er, know about that--!”

“Fine.” Harada sighs, getting to his feet. “If Chizuru wants to go. Count me in.”

“That’s the spirit!” Shinpachi claps him on the back, hard enough that even Harada has to cough. “Now, that just leaves...?”

“Uh-uh.” Souji’s arms fold over his chest, forbidding. “No way I’m going to your nerd party.”

“Aw, c’mon.” Shinpachi drops between them on the couch, arm pulling tight. “Think of it as a group bonding experience.”

Souji scowls. “What makes you think I care about bonding with any of you--”

“Well, if you’re going to be that way about it.” He squeezes tight enough to eke a squeak out of him. “Think about it as, ‘if you go we won’t tell Hijikata about you stealing shit.”

Souji glowers. “Fine,” he grumbles, shoving him off. “But I won’t like it!”

Shinpachi’s smile is all knives when he replies, “Wouldn’t expect you to.”

It’s dark when Chizuru stumbles out into the hall; there’d been daylight still when they’d piled into the parlor, but now night clings to the the edges of dusk, only enough light to gild the snow in golden shadow. It might bother her more if it wasn’t such a relief, a respite from having to scrape at the last reserve of her smiles. And so she takes it; one big breath and the muscles around her mouth slump, aching from use.

Any other night, she might worry about one of the boys following out behind her, but she can hear the ruckus shift from the parlor toward the kitchen, wheeled baggage and Shinpachi’s booming voice all tromping toward the back stair. Her day may have happened in fits and starts, but everyone else has been on the move, going from Christmas to short notice travel to fraught house meeting all within the space of hours. There’s no one who’s going to be worried about her.

Which suits her just fine. A few minutes lying face down on her comforter and she’ll be right as rain. Just a breath or two to herself, and--

Someone huffs behind her. Right behind her.

She whips around so fast, she nearly tumbles Yamazaki into the wall with her. Or at least his arm, half outstretched, now just hanging there in the air between them.

“Oh!” There’s no reason for her to shy back, but she does, guiltier with every inch. “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--”

“No, no. It’s my fault.” His hands aren’t large, not like Harada or Shinpachi, but the fingers are long and tapered, digging runnels through the shaggy bristle of his hair. “I should have-- ah, I mean, I just saw you, and er, wanted to make sure that you were all right. After, ah...all that.”

Her first instinct urges her to laugh, to let her nerves giggle out, there’s no need to worry about me--

But Yamazaki stares at her with the same careful intensity as he had in the kitchen-- you’re worth a good meal-- and Chizuru tries deflection instead. “I’m the one who should be asking you that! I went into your room without any permission and all, and Souji--” Yamazaki grimaces at the name “---I just...you have every right to be mad at me!”

“You?” he echoes, incredulous. “It’s not your fault, Yukimura. Okita’s the one who dragged you in there.”

She shakes her head. “I could have chosen to leave any time. I just was too curious to think to question him.”

“Curious?” There’s no inflection to the word, and with the shadows making a muddle of his expressions, there’s only the tilt of his head to tell here there’s a question. “Why would you be curious?”

“Ah, I’d just...never been inside before?” Her palms clap to her cheeks, and oh, she must glow from how hot her cheeks burn. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not! It’s just, ah...unexpected. I...” His mouth opens, as if he might say more, but with a lick of his lips, it closes instead. Or rather, his chin dips down and it follows, gaze dropping from her eyes to somewhere at her neck. As if...

“Oh, did I spill...?” She can’t actually remember what she’s eaten today, whether it could be something that she could walk around wearing, but Yamazaki’s already shaking his head.

“Ah, no, it’s just...you still have...” His fingers curl hesitantly in the air between them. “If you would let me...?”

Every twitching nerve of her stills as he steps close, fingers skimming past her shoulders. Only days ago she’d knotted his scarf, but it feels different now that he’s the one reaching, so close his hand meet behind her neck. He’s not bundled up now, no three layers of wool and thermal and parka to keep her from realizing that he smells nice, like...like something clean with a hint of eucalyptus, and it’s...

It’s a lot.

His fingers knit into the fabric at her nape, too slippery for him to find the end of it by touch. At least, the first time; he gathers it up, hiking it higher and higher until he can slide under it, the flat of his nails smooth and warm against her neck. Her pulse pounds so hard he must feel it, but Yamazaki doesn’t flinch, instead lifting it with surgical precision. The stretchy fabric threads right off her ponytail with no more than that initial brush of fingers, and she--

She stare. It’s the mask. The one Souji put on her. All this time, and she’s-- she’s just been wearing it, like some sort of...scarf. Right over her tanuki pajamas. In front of everyone.

In front of Yamazaki.

If she could melt into the woodwork, it would be a miracle. But as always, reality refuses to oblige her. “Oh, I hadn’t even...ah...”

“Please, don’t worry about it.” His fingers smooth over the fabric, mouth curving into a rueful smile. “It looked better on you than it does on me.”

“Ah!” Her gasp catches in her throat. “That’s not...um...” She hakes her head, hoping that might clear enough room for a sentence or two to compose itself. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Yamazaki glances up at her, amused, and oh-- she hadn’t meant to say that. Not like that.

“You know, I meant to...” He stops himself. Not abruptly, like she does, but a slow, thoughtful halt. Like a train pulling into a station rather than a car braking for a yellow light. “I mean, I don’t think I ever got around to saying it last night, and today, with everything...well”

He hesitates again, a breath hissing between his teeth. But this time his shoulders square, and even though his gaze is lost in the shadow of his brows, she knows he’s looking at her. “Merry Christmas, Yukimura.”