#i would be such a fucking good person if nothing happened

[apeachty]

₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀broken rules, mended hearts

⠀⠀⠀fwb!yeonjun x fem!reader

genre : angst, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff at the end

warnings : dom fwb!yeonjun x sub!reader, both are intended more or less grown up as yeonjun has his own apartment and reader has a job; LOTS of kinks mentioned, but nothing too much; reader was “close to inexperienced” before yeonjun; unwanted pregnancy discussions; some misogyny (not from yeonjun, ofc); reader is awkward when it comes to dates and also puts yeonjun through a really bad emotional rollercoaster (but not on purpose); lots of misunderstandings and overthinking. reader wears a sundress (is it important?..). melancholic and angsty, but with a happy end

wordcount : 14k

note : sigh... thank you @biteyoubiteme for hyping me up, beta reading it and listening to all of my tantrums every 3k words. it wouldn't have happened without you ♡ i also don't know how it happened, i guess i just wanted a happy ending for fwb!yeonjun bad enough.

yeonjun had become soft recently. too soft. what was once regular doggy style slowly transformed into regular missionary, with your limbs wrapped tight around his body; occasional cowgirl rides, where he’d watch you struggle, hands behind his head, shifted to him holding you tight and helping you move on top of him. chests pressed close, as your breaths were mingling in the small, intimate space, heartbeats syncing as one. 

sharp quick bites turned into deliberate love marks he took his time to make, pressing his lips gently to each mark before moving to unmarked skin; quick frustrated slaps to your thighs and ass became more intended and calculated. he developed a habit of gripping handful after each slap, fingertips sinking into your flesh, before caressing bruised skin tenderly. he was marking you even more than before, but started doing it slowly, as if savouring every drag of his nails along your thighs, every touch, every bite, and wanting you to savour it too.

rare, tiny pecks that used to happen infrequently began appearing more often, slowly inching dangerously close to your lips. so slowly that you barely noticed it until you could smell mint toothpaste and faint honey chapstick he bought for himself because he loved the way yours smelled. his mean name-calling and degradation melted into sweet names and an almost unnecessary amount of praise. 

unnecessary, you chuckled to yourself bitterly. you never knew how much you needed yeonjun to be like that until he became the person who held you tight after each orgasm, his hand over your heart, waiting for it to calm down, his lips pressed to your neck, whispering how much of a good girl you were for him. sometimes he stayed the night, or made you stay. gosh, you even cockwarmed him through the night once, and you never wanted him to leave your body after that. 

what had started as a way to release frustration, stress, or anger, became something messy and confusing. he began refusing to have sex with you when he was angry, calling it “unfair to you”. he said he didn't want to pour all of his frustration onto you. you begged him sometimes, though. at first, because he was so unbelievably hot when he was like that and you craved him to be rough—the roughest—with you. later, because you wanted him to let it all out—bottling up emotions never did anything good for anyone, and you knew fucking you until you could barely think would help him.

sometimes he agreed, and sometimes he didn't. if he did, he still started softly, keeping his emotions down just for a moment to make sure you knew he wasn't angry at you, never at you, before throwing you on the bed and making you a dumb, trembling, whimpering mess beneath him. marks and love bruises bloomed all over your body as he fucked you senseless. when he refused, though, you talked about his day, ate ice cream or some of his favourite food, as frustration was slowly leaving his body and he was laughing more and more at your antics. understanding which one was needed started coming naturally for you somewhere along the way. and he confessed once that both were helping him the same, in their own ways. 

yeonjun started taking more charge when you were the one stressed too, almost pulling you away from his dick when he knew that getting fucked senselessly would only add to your burden. he acted like he knew better than you did, and the worst part was—he was right. he was doing exactly what you needed, almost every time, and if he ever misunderstood, he was quick to change his approach. it felt like he could get into your mind. or like you two were so perfectly suited, your flaws aligning like puzzle pieces, that no words were needed. you didn't know which one was worse.

it wasn't that sex had become boring or rare. against all odds, you both started reaching out to each other more often—not just on bad days, but when you were horny, or bored, or had free time. sometimes you’d text him because you missed him, and even though he agreed to meet every time, you refused to admit—even to yourself—that you just wanted to spend time with him, sex or not. 

you started experimenting more too. impulsive rough sex had its limits and lines yeonjun couldn't cross because he could hurt you while he couldn't control himself, but as it started happening on a cold head more and more often, you both found yourselves enjoying testing how far he could go, how much your body could take. he learned your limits—how many slaps your butt could endure, the right way to squeeze your throat to make you dizzy yet enjoying it, how many times he could deny your orgasm or grant it, how hard he could pull your hair to make you beg for more. you even got a pretty box of all the nice toys and added ‘yellow’ as a safe word just for him to explore your limits more comfortably. 

one day he mentioned a list of more things he would like to try—you weren’t sure if it was with you or in general, given his experience. you were close to inexperienced when the ‘friends with benefits’ thing started, and he introduced you to many of his kinks. surprisingly enough you loved each one, while being not too interested in the ones he was indifferent to. but there were more he wanted you to try, and he named only a few—free use with somnophilia, the thought of him using you any moment and any way he wanted already thrilled you; role play, the few ideas he shared sounded good already. but the one he mentioned and quickly brushed off was a spit kink, which stuck in your mind since then, conflicting with the ‘no kissing’ rule of his. 

yeonjun was a decent man too, always had been, so it was typically at least one for one when it came to oral activities between you two. of course, sometimes he could eat you out simply because he wanted to, not as a “return the favour” gesture, but usually you just skipped it for the sake of the main event unless he wanted to fuck your face. recently, however, it had changed too—eating you out had become a necessary part of the ‘main event’ for him, as if something had been unleashed within him. he would spend hours between your legs before or after fucking you—or both—and it felt like he had learned from the gods themselves. his free hand would often be resting over your heart or holding yours, fingers interlaced. and at the same time you had to beg him to let you suck him off, despite knowing you weren't that bad at it and that he clearly enjoyed the feeling of your mouth on him. you assumed he just enjoyed hearing your pathetic begging for his cock a little bit more.

you’d probably fucked on every surface in his apartment, which wasn't exactly weird, because you did it before too—often none of you had enough patience to get to the bedroom. but now it was different—he asked you if you liked the place, if it was comfortable for you, if the position was comfortable or if you would like something else. if you didn’t like it he never pulled you there even in the heat of a moment. his questions weren’t obvious, but you quickly caught on, jokingly suggesting you should fill a survey. he laughed, joking back and saying you two could move in together for the research to go faster.

it was confusing. he was confusing. and you hated it more than anything. except one thing—the way your “friends with benefits” arrangement was evolving lately made you feel soft and dizzy, made you dream of something more like you were a middle schooler writing her crush’s name in a diary and drawing a bunch of tiny hearts around it. it went against the ‘no catching feelings’ he’d set up in the beginning. you broke it at some point—maybe ‘friends with benefits’ thing wasn’t for you in general? you were hiding it, of course, but when he started changing, you started overthinking it. was he breaking the rule too? was it just normal behaviour for friends with benefits? was it just normal behaviour for him? 

you didn’t ask, afraid he would laugh at you and your stupid childish feelings. but you didn’t break what you had either, not knowing what to do to make it hurt the least in the end for you and choosing to go with the flow. you tried to not question anything he did, slowly giving him control over your relationship, not only in bed but out of it too. you had no idea how it was supposed to work in general, and he never explained except making a few rules and asking if you had any rules you'd like to have too. you couldn't think of anything, so you just mumbled something about you both checking for STDs, and he chuckled telling you it always went without saying.

a few weeks later it became the “we're strictly exclusive” rule, as you both realized that looking for anyone else was useless—you met each other’s needs well. you ditched condoms too—you’d been on birth control pills for years already, you were exclusive, and you both were clean. and he swore you would be into cum play just as much as he was. he turned out to be right, because condoms were prohibited in his and your place since the first night without one. it never crossed your mind, because it made sense, until one day, months later, you realized your period was late.

you had been staying at yeonjun’s house for nearly two weeks—his apartment was closer to your work, and with the quarter ending, he suggested you move in until you finished your extra work. it made sense, as you already had enough of your belongings there, and he often checked if anything needed to be bought. his gaze fell on your period supplies one day, and he realized that you should have been on your period for a few days already, but all the packages were still unopened. 

it wasn't too big of a deal, it had happened a few times before. these past two weeks had been stressful for you, so he just grabbed the last pregnancy test—making a mental note to buy more later—and handed it to you without any second thought. you didn't pay much attention to it either, taking it from him and going to the bathroom. after all, you were taking pills, and even though they weren't 100% effective, getting pregnant was still rare. the test showed positive though. 

seeing the pale little line next to the bright one made your whole world come crashing down. you stared at it, unable to comprehend what was worse. unwanted pregnancy? you didn't want to have children, not at that point of your life at least. yeonjun didn't want either. he was your friend with benefits for god's sake, that was completely uncalled for. it'd be uncalled for even if you were dating, and you weren't. you started spiraling. pregnancy could be dealt with, but he could think you did it on purpose, skipping your pills just to get pregnant, to baby trap him. he would hate you, you thought. he would yell at you to get out, saying he wanted nothing to do with you, that everything was a mistake, even meeting you.

yeonjun found you a few minutes later, sitting on the bathroom floor and staring at the test, tears streaming down your face. you didn't react to him calling you, and he didn't need to look at the test to know the result. you looked up at him, eyes puffy and red, holding out the test. he glanced at it quickly, but it felt like an eternity for you. it was the moment you realized the feelings you had caught for him were too strong, as your heart was breaking into the smallest pieces at the thought of him telling you to leave his life. and the worst thing was, you weren't so sure anymore what to do with the child, with the tiny piece of him. 

you waited for him to yell at you, but he never did. yeonjun wasn't excited or even happy to become a father, but he sat down next to you and held you while you fell apart in his arms, trying to keep at least the biggest pieces of you together. he promised to hold your hand through every step of pregnancy, birth, and parenthood if the test was right and you wanted to keep the baby. he said you could move in with him here, and he would turn his little dance room into a nursery and baby’s room later, or even sell that apartment to buy a bigger one. he swore to never leave you two alone, and if you needed a guarantee, he was ready to marry you as soon as possible.

yeonjun ran to get more when he was sure you had calmed down. it turned out the test was expired and showed a false positive—you weren't pregnant, and you were relieved. he visibly relaxed too—he never told you he was happy you weren't pregnant but you knew him well enough already to know it yourself, and weren’t mad at him even for a second—you felt absolutely the same. the whole situation drained you completely though, and you fell asleep early that day, wrapped tightly in yeonjun's arms as he kept you together after all the shocks of the day. 

that was the last time it happened, the unwanted and unhappened pregnancy drawing a line between you that was little by little becoming a growing gap. you distanced yourself from him, and he started reaching out much less frequently too. you didn't know what was going through his head, but you assumed he realized that having a child was too much—maybe with you, maybe in general—and the risk wasn't worth it. you were thinking something similar: if you were going to take that risk, you'd prefer doing it in not only an exclusive but also committed relationship, and you couldn't have it with yeonjun no matter how much you wished the rule didn’t exist.

it brought you here, sitting half ready for a date on the couch in your apartment, phone in hand. you hadn't heard from yeonjun in three weeks, and for three weeks, you tried to keep your mind as empty as your hollow heart was, afraid that even the smallest thought about what you two had would ruin the little composure you managed to get. but it didn't happen—you’d just basically analyzed everything that happened in these months, and it didn't break you. it only left you more empty. 

you looked down at the messaging app. the chat with yeonjun was still pinned to the top, little ‘3w’ at the top right corner mocking you. i'll unpin it later, you thought, moving your gaze lower. there was one unread message from ‘jaeyong’. “will be there in an hour, baby ;)”, sent twenty minutes ago. you almost made a face at the word ‘baby’—only yeonjun didn’t make it sound cringe. you hadn't even met the guy yet, you matched with him on tinder a few days ago. surprisingly so, because you were ready to give up, as you kept comparing everyone to yeonjun, and of course, no one was ever close. you weren't even sure how you swiped that one right, probably by accident, but you did. maybe it was destiny?

the ice cream cafe you agreed to meet at was nice, as you had seen it daily on your way to work and were a regular during certain periods, visiting almost daily. they offered a variety of tasty treats, so you didn't have to limit yourself to just ice cream alone. the workers were always friendly too despite the constant stream of customers, but you knew quieter hours as a person who sometimes stayed extra hours at work. or as someone who spent countless days in the area, you realized as your gaze fell upon the window table you and yeonjun used to sit in the late evenings, laughing at each other's poor ice cream flavour choices.

when jaeyong asked you if you had any preferences for the meeting place, you named that cafe without any second thought—he was a stranger and you didn't want to meet him somewhere near your house, but you didn't want to go to an unfamiliar area either. he didn't know where you were working too except brief occupation description, so a cafe not so far from work seemed safe. it felt safe too, but for a completely different reason than you initially thought. it wasn't about the familiar area or the familiar workers; it was about the safety and peace you felt when you were there with yeonjun.

you had to gather some strength to tear your eyes away from the table you two used to occupy regularly and choose another table. you sat down and put your purse on your knees, checking your watch. you were a few minutes early, and it made you uneasy—were you supposed to be a bit late? was it expected from you as some… unspoken rule? should you have waited outside? but it was drizzling lightly, it might ruin your hair or make up. were these good even? yeonjun barely cared if you were barefaced and wore a ponytail, a braid or a bun, so over the months you had gotten out of the habit of dolling yourself up when it wasn't necessary.

but it was necessary now. and you had to stop thinking about yeonjun. you inhaled and exhaled slowly—he was a finished chapter in your life, and you had to move on. you had a date with another man. even if that one didn’t work out, it was a start already. the first step was always the hardest one, and you hoped that this first step would at least help you realize what you were looking for—something that wasn’t just ‘yeonjun’. 

but jaeyong turned out to be… not exactly what you expected. he was a bit late, but you greeted him with a wide smile nevertheless, getting up to hold out your hand to shake his. his cute apologetic smile fell, and he shook your hand awkwardly. you mentally slapped yourself—you had no idea what he expected you to do, but it probably wasn't a handshake that was usually exchanged only between men. you sat back down, nervousness coming back, as you pulled your chair closer to the table, which made him raise his eyebrow. of course. minus another point—you were supposed to let him pull your chair out instead of doing it yourself. 

by the time you finished your dessert, you lost count of how many points you lost. you came up to the counter to order your food yourself instead of telling him so he could order for you both. you paid for your coffee and dessert. you sat on your own again, because you forgot he tried so hard to be a gentleman. you probably ate and drank in some wrong way, but you couldn’t understand what exactly you did wrong—you didn’t talk with your mouth full and didn’t laugh like a hyena at his latte moustaches, showing it subtly on yourself to give him a hint. was that wrong?..

but it wasn’t the worst part of the date. you thought nothing could be worse than being silently judged for every little thing, but then he started talking about his ex. how she wanted to focus on her career instead of giving birth to a few precious babies and become a housewife, while he would work hard to support them all. she had told him that from the beginning, but he was sure she would change her mind—all women did, it was their role after all. he said he was on the verge of achieving it, but she broke up with him for something trivial. you were too close to losing another few points for the sake of checking your tinder profile in the middle of the conversation—you were sure you had ‘don’t want to have kids yet’ there. 

you throw a quick glance outside the window. the rain was pouring now and you didn’t have an umbrella—you hadn’t checked the forecast and had to use your jacket to cover your head when the drizzle started on your way here. and you obviously didn’t have a ride home or at least to the nearby subway station, leaving you with only option—losing a few more points by getting a taxi on your own instead of letting jaeyong get it for you. he was too much of a creep to know even the street you were living on. 

your gaze moved to the window table once again. you never realized how easy it was with yeonjun despite that ‘friends with benefits’ thing complicating everything. at least it was safe with him, and even when he was unpredictable, he was unpredictable in the best way possible. not to mention all the other things that made him so much better than the man sitting across from you now. you pressed your lips together—you missed him, missed the way you felt when you were with him, even though you were sure you’d get your heart broken at some point. but maybe you were just biased toward jaeyong, because your brain still was occupied with thoughts of yeonjun?..

suddenly, your date fell silent. right, not paying attention, minus another point. you suppressed the urge to sigh and looked back at him, hands fidgeting with an empty cup, the textured print feeling nice under your fingers. he threw a quick glance at your hands—minus one more point?—before continuing where he left off, probably launching into another story about why another woman was a gold digger for paying for herself on a date with him. you had abandoned hope of finding any sense in his life views long ago, so you just let his words wash over you without truly listening. 

the bell over the door rang softly, announcing another customer coming in. you looked up, curious about the other lost soul who ended up being in this cafe instead of the warmth of their home, and froze. the person's back was turned to you as they put their umbrella into the stand, but you could swear it was him. his hair was shorter, much shorter, not covering his neck anymore, a neat undercut looking foreign on him—he had one long before you met, you saw photos, but you never saw it in real life. but it was undoubtedly him. yeonjun.

your certainty didn't help you, though, when he turned and looked at you immediately—there was no one else in the cafe after all, of course he looked at you. his face looked different somehow with the shorter hair, but he still was your yeonjun. your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met. he was shocked, his eyes huge and mouth agape, but his expression changed when he noticed a man sitting across from you. his gaze hardened, and he pressed his lips together. yeonjun understood it was a date, he wasn't dumb, but he didn't have time to mourn his heart, because his subconscious threw a huge ‘attention!’ sign at him, making him pause to understand what his gut was trying to tell him.

yeonjun wanted to leave—his house was nearby, and he could make coffee himself and maybe grab an ice cream tub from the convenience store on the way there. but you looked… wrong. something was wrong about you. he felt like it took him a few eternities to realize you were uncomfortable—he rarely saw you like this, you were always at ease with him, barely ever tense, nervous or anxious, but you were all of those now, and he knew he couldn't leave you like that. he had to make sure you were safe, if your date turned out to be a creep, not to mention his umbrella was the only one in the stand, meaning you didn't bring yours, and the rain wouldn't stop until tomorrow morning. 

he took his jacket off, purposefully hanging it on the floor hanger next to yours—even closer than the jacket of your date. you noticed it with the corner of your eyes, despite looking at jaeyong and trying not to make him suspicious. you knew yeonjun was making a statement with it—”i'm here, i'm next to you, i'm not going anywhere”—even though he was clearly upset with you. you could see it perfectly. he wasn't upset with you very often, but you had seen it enough when it came to other people getting on his nerves.

but you still felt at ease just from seeing yeonjun deciding not to leave you alone. he noticed it too—maybe he rarely ever saw you uncomfortable, but the relief written all over your face and body was a stark contrast to the way you looked when he first walked in. he barely glanced at the cashier while ordering his usual—iced americano and mint choco ice cream—his gaze never leaving you even when you weren’t looking at him directly. he knew you could still see him over your date’s shoulder. 

yeonjun chose a place to sit with the same intent—he took a table in the corner just near the counter, positioning himself so you could see him fully without it being obvious, and so he could keep you in his sight. he was thankful the three of you were the only people in the cafe, allowing him to hear every little thing your date said to you—and he sounded like a misogynistic piece of shit. yeonjun wanted nothing more than to just drag you away from the man. no woman should ever listen to something like that. he shook the thought ‘especially mine’ away—you weren’t his anymore. never had been. 

it was taking you too long to end the date, when you obviously weren't interested, yeonjun noticed after fifteen more minutes of listening to more of that asshole’s bullshit. then it hit him—this might be the first time you were dealing with a douchebag like that one, and you had no idea how to handle it. yeonjun’s palms pressed against the table, ready to stand, when he heard something that made his blood boil.

“are you a virgin, by the way? should have asked you from the start.” 

your hands froze on your cup. what did he just ask? was it that important? you didn’t know how to respond. no, of course, you knew that you weren’t one, but the question felt absurd—something no one should ask on the first date unless it really mattered to them. and if it did… he probably wasn’t concerned about taking your virginity, you doubted he thought it was too much of a bother, or that he was looking for an experienced woman only. he wanted a virgin.

why it’s taking you so long to tell him to fuck off, gosh! yeonjun groaned internally, stomping toward your table. he grabbed your wrist, fingers digging into your skin—gesture comforting for both you and yeonjun in some weird way. with a sharp tug, he pulled you out of your seat, not even sparing a glance at the piece of shit you were on a date with—yeonjun knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from punching that asshole if he so much as looked at him. he didn’t say anything to you either—not because he didn’t want to, but because he was afraid of what might spill out in his frustration and anger.

but you didn’t need him to say anything—you followed him obediently to the coat rack, where he grabbed both of your jackets in one hand. he pulled you toward the exit, throwing a short ‘umbrella’ over his shoulder, and you grabbed it from the stand, turning back only to offer the cashier an apologetic smile and a small nod goodbye. he knew you two, often being the one on the shift when you visited the cafe, and while that behaviour wasn’t regular for you two, he’d overheard the conversation and understood what was happening. he was ready to step in if needed, but he was relieved he didn’t have to, because it could have costed him his job. 

yeonjun held the door for you, even though he was still holding your wrist and pulling you outside himself, and you realized he never had to try hard to be a gentleman—he always was one. he stopped under the canopy next to the window, making sure you were protected from the rain until he could open the umbrella and take you home—he turned his back to the wind, shielding you from the cold raindrops, blocking them from hitting you, his jacket hung over his shoulder carelessly freeing his hands so he could put your jacket on you.

his actions weren't gentleman-like—he didn’t hold your jacket, gracefully standing behind your back and carefully pulling it up your arms until it was fully on. yeonjun was sharp with his movements, almost yanking the umbrella from your hand and hooking it over his forearm, as he put the jacket behind you waiting for you to put your arms into the sleeves, trapping you between it and himself. you weren’t against it though, feeling safe for the first time in hours, and feeling like home for the first time in almost a month, as you felt him pull it up sharply to cover your back and shoulders before grabbing his own jacket. 

you took the umbrella from yeonjun and opened it, holding it behind his back to shield him from the rain as he slipped into his jacket. he glanced at you, surprised, but you met his gaze with a soft smile, happy to be near him again and trying not to think about the conversation awaiting for you at his apartment—it wouldn’t be nice, it would be the one that would end everything between you two. so for now you wanted to enjoy the little warmth and care you had for each other while it lasted, you were going to burn each one of his words into your brain and each of his touch into your skin, so you could hear and feel it for months.

yeonjun took the umbrella back—much softer already—when he was done with the jacket, holding it between your bodies to cover you both from the rain before stepping out of the canopy and walking you to his apartment. despite him trying his best to navigate the umbrella so you were protected from the cold rain, he noticed the shoulder that was further from him getting wet—the wind was too strong, and even though the umbrella was huge, you had to be closer to him to get a bit more covered. he would have easily held the umbrella over you only, going under the rain himself, but he knew you would never let him, he always had to agree with your stubbornness when it came to his well-being. 

“wrap your arm around my waist,” yeonjun said, realizing he sounded sharper than he intended. he was still upset about the way you just sat there listening to bullshit about women’s worth being measured in amount of children and how much she served her husband. he knew it didn’t make sense to be mad at you, because it wasn't your fault in the slightest, but there was something much bigger. 

you were on a date. with someone else. 

you had distanced yourself from him after the expired pregnancy test incident, not letting him in no matter how much he tried to make you talk to him, and he started shutting down too. you both had suffered for weeks like that until everything ended with some stupid text message about the hoodie you lost, asking him if it was at his place. and then, three weeks later, he found you having a date with some asshole at the cafe he started considering as a place for the two of you only. yeonjun knew it was his rule to not catch feelings, he knew he was being unfair to you by feeling that way, but he couldn’t stop the frustration spiraling inside of him.

even the way you wrapped your arm around his waist like he told you to, your hand holding the side of his jacket, didn’t help. he still put his hand over yours, interlacing fingers with yours and putting your hands together into his pocket, though—the place your hand was at was constantly under rain, and he didn’t want you to get cold, no matter how upset he was. or how much it went against any rules you seemed so determined to follow, yet failed to uphold. he was breaking them, and you were letting him—just like now, not pulling your hand away from his grasp. did you even remember there was a rule against intimate touches like this one?

were you breaking the rules on purpose too, just like he was? were you capable of breaking the most important one—the one that was about being exclusive? yeonjun’s jaw tightened as he threw a quick glance at you, when he felt your steps falter slightly for a moment. he thought that you might stumble, but instead you made a small, quick step instead of a regular one to match his stride. you did it often—not falling into step with him, but adjusting yourself to match him like it was natural for you, effortless. now, though, it seemed like you were ready to just throw it all away as something you didn’t need anymore. his throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, his grip on your hand tightening briefly before he caught himself and loosened it.

yeonjun had noticed how much you’d changed these few months before the pregnancy test, when he started changing too—you’d become softer with him, a bit more reserved, but still softer. you had also grown more obedient—not that you hadn’t been before, but now you seemed to do what he wanted or needed without him having to say anything most of the time. it was probably another way you adjusted yourself for him. but he had to be too cautious around you, holding back his own softness and tenderness sometimes, because you had developed a habit of pulling away when he was too gentle. he couldn’t get his head around you, and holding back and overthinking were tiring.

and then he had said he wouldn’t leave if you were pregnant, words about marriage slipping out on its own. his only intention was to calm you down—he wasn't lying, of course. he was ready to take responsibility, to support and love you and the baby if it came to that. but it felt like he had ruined everything. this time, though, he was sure he knew why. he knew you didn’t want children—not yet, at least—and though you two never had never discussed anything like marriage, he assumed you weren’t interested in a long-term relationship either, and he only pushed you away with his words, making you seek someone who would be able to keep ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement as it was supposed to be. 

and now? now, you were here, arm wrapped around his waist, your hand warm, nice and gentle in his, fingers interlaced. you weren’t just letting him hold you close—you were holding onto him too. you weren’t simply allowing him to hold your hand; you held it just as tight, your thumb brushing against his skin, and yeonjun wasn’t sure if you were doing it on purpose or not. you two looked like a couple, yet to him, it felt more like a cruel echo of something that could have been but was never destined to happen—he clenched his teeth, irritation bubbling in his chest at the way you played push and pull with him now. 

yeonjun could still picture your eyes when you realized he chose to stay in the cafe instead of leaving you alone with that asshole. you had looked at him like he was your saviour—as if he’d been the knight who swooped in to save the princess, despite the ‘knight’ looking like he had just woken up after thirteen hours of sleep on the couch, throwing on a jacket and shoes over the hoodie and sweatpants he was sleeping in, to grab coffee at the cafe nearby. but knights never got princesses, did they? no, that was reserved for princes. knights were just tools that came in handy when princesses needed to use someone. knights were disposable. 

was he just the lesser evil for you back there? would you have pretended he wasn’t there if your date hadn’t turned out to be such a creep? part of him was convinced you would have, despite the rational part of his brain trying to make him realize it wasn’t like you at all. why would you follow him to his place instead of asking him to get you to the nearest subway station? why would you hold his hand like this? why would you seem so relaxed beside him now? because she wants to toy with me some more, yeonjun thought bitterly, yanking your hands out of his pocket and letting go of yours. 

you looked up at him, surprised, already missing the warmth of his touch—the short walk hadn’t been enough for that warmth to burn itself into your skin the way you needed it to, but if he thought it was enough… you held yourself back from reaching for his hand again—he was clearly upset with you, and you didn't want to play with fire. you weren't sure why he would bring you here then, though. no, it was obvious he just didn't want to cause a scene outside, but was there any point in in trying to talk things through if the end result was the same—breaking up… whatever you had?

yeonjun yanked the front door of the building open, following you right behind to hold the umbrella over you until you were safely inside, shielded from the rain. he shook the raindrops off harshly, closing the umbrella and standing a few feet away from you, facing the elevators after checking that you had pressed the button. he turned his head slightly, avoiding even a glance at you from the corner of his eyes—it was too painful and too irritating at the same time. the silence hung heavily, and he exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when the elevator doors opened with a quiet ‘ding’. he stepped aside to let you enter first, following after and pressing the button for his floor, turning his back to you immediately. 

you thought nothing could make an elevator ride with yeonjun longer and more unbearable than wanting to have your hands all over each other already, but having to limit yourselves to subtle touches because of the elevator cameras. but now, awkwardness and yeonjun's simmering anger stretched the seconds into eternity. you pressed yourself into the corner, silently wishing it'd just swallow you, your eyes trailing yeonjun standing before the doors, refusing to look at you. your gaze fell to the nape of his neck—his hair was so short there now… he had kept the bangs, and had shortened hair on top of his head just a bit—it still covered his temples, but you could see hair there was just as short when he ran his fingers through it, which he did often. tips of your fingers itched to touch it, but you held back—you couldn't do things like that anymore.

the little screen finally displayed yeonjun's floor number, and you moved forward at the same time as he stepped aside to give you room to leave the elevator. the ‘ladies first’ gesture would have been flattering if it wasn't for his step being a little too big, as if he was trying to keep as much distance as the small space allowed. it hurt, even though his intentions to stay away from you were obvious by the way he was keeping his distance in the hall. you still couldn’t understand why he brought you here—you could as well finish everything in ugly way through messages, there was no need to see each other’s faces.

you exited the elevator, stepping aside to let yeonjun go first—you no longer had the keys, they were left dangling on the key rack in his apartment some time before the last conversation. you weren’t sure why you had done it, though—he had never made you feel unwelcome there, but once again, you had done lots of stupid things lately, once that felt right at the time, but grew increasingly stupid with every second you thought about it, so you decided to simply stop thinking about everything you did. childish? pretty much, but compared to watching yourself destroy everything with your own hands, it felt like the lesser evil.

yeonjun opened the door, letting you step inside first, and locked it behind you. he placed the umbrella in its stand and crouched down to undo his shoes, still not saying a word to you. his mind was restless, every glance at you sinking another dagger into his chest and fueling his anger. you stood before him, your legs right in front of his eyes, your short sundress—one of his favourites, the one you started wearing more often after he told you he loved the way it looked on you—barely covering any skin, especially from his current angle. he jerked his head downward, jaw tightening. his favourite dress… on a date… in his favourite cafe… with some misogynistic asshole. 

yeonjun stood up and made a few steps further into the apartment, his socks slipping slightly against the floor. he shrugged off his damp jacket carelessly, hanging it on the hook, before finally turning to look at you. his gaze caught the mirror on the inside of the door over your shoulder though, and he double-checked his reflection instinctively. he had cut his hair just a few days ago and still couldn’t get used to the way he looked. his own reflection felt like a stranger, whenever he saw it with the corner of his eyes. there was no long hair he had been growing out for a year anymore. he decided to go back to the undercut he had as his go-to hairstyle for a few years before meeting you. his hair already started growing out when you met, and somehow, when you stayed in his life as his friend with benefits he let it keep growing, trimming it from time to time a bit. 

and when you left… yeonjun wasn’t sure why he had cut it. maybe it was an attempt to return the person he had been before meeting you—someone less broken, less hollow, no matter how stupid it sounded if he thought about it for more than a minute. not even because his hairstyle and your presence hadn’t been the only things different from the past—too many things had changed this year—but because it’d never be enough to erase every reminder of you from his life, which had been the real reason of him cutting his hair off, even though he refused to admit it to himself even. he hadn’t even done anything else, cutting his hair was the only thing that he had done, because he couldn’t get rid of other little things that reminded him of you. and ridiculously enough, the undercut became another reminder—he thought of you whenever he saw his reflection or touched his hair. 

yeonjun tore his gaze away from the mirror, finally looking at you. you were standing near the door, your jacket and shoes still on, leaving faint, wet marks on the doormat, your hands fidgeting with the clasp of your purse. you looked so small, so vulnerable, like someone who needed to be protected every moment of their life. he couldn’t believe you had gone on a date with a stranger—with some jerk, who just saw you—or any woman—as an incubator, but the incubator had to be a virgin, of course, of course. it sounded ridiculous and disgusting even in his own head, and yet you had been sitting there, listening to all that bullshit, like it was completely fine. 

“why didn’t you say anything?” the words came out bitter and sharp, yeonjun wasn’t even going to ask that—he knew why and he knew it wasn’t your fault, but the words left his mouth before he could think about it. his fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms as he tried to keep his voice steady, though he knew it was a losing battle. “back there. to that asshole.” 

you frowned, looking up at him in confusion. he knew why you hadn’t said anything, why you hadn’t done anything. he had stayed and stepped in exactly because he knew. did he want you to say it out loud? to admit that you had been absolutely helpless and would have had to ask the cashier for help if things escalated? to confess that you would have kept listening to all that misogynistic trash if he hadn’t dragged you out? 

“because i didn’t know what to say,” you responded quietly, your nails biting into your palms. “if it wasn’t for you—”

something snapped in yeonjun at the sound of your voice after three weeks of only hearing it in old voice messages. he appeared before you in just a few swift steps, pressing your back into the mirror on the inside of the front door with one smooth motion—you couldn't even comprehend what happened until you felt a sharp bite on the side of your neck and his cold hand, the one that had been holding the umbrella, running up your thigh, leaving faint red lines with nails and lifting the skirt of your sundress before delivering a hard, sharp slap to your skin. you yelped and jerked, never expecting it, arms wrapping around his shoulders, but he only pressed you harder into the front door with his body, thigh pushing between your legs, and his second hand finding its place on your breast, kneading it roughly.

it was far from the first time something similar happened—yeonjun had gone through a stressful period when you both decided to try the ‘friends with benefits’ agreement, and you found yourself with your face pressed against a random surface as he pounded you into it until your legs were sore, quite often. the front door too, of course—it had been a favourite of his in the beginning, chosen for its speed and convenience. but that was the thing—in the beginning. later, you admitted it was far from your favourite place—the mirror was uncomfortably cold at first and then weirdly warm under your cheek, chest or shoulder blades, and it made a weird screeching sound whenever your skin rubbed against it, and you couldn't stop thinking about people passing by. it had been the last time you had sex or even made out there. until now.

yeonjun didn't leave a small gentle kiss over the bite on your neck too, his hand didn't linger to soothe the slapped skin of your thigh, even for a moment. he jerked your skirt up too sharply, cursing at the way it got in the way between his thigh and your crotch, and when he finally managed to pull it high enough to his liking, he slapped your thigh once again to silently command you to lift your leg over his waist—instead of wrapping his fingers around your thigh and lifting it himself like he had started doing not so long ago. you loved when he was like that back then, loved all of it, but now, compared to the way you knew he could be with you, it was almost devastating. 

deep inside you hoped to have sex with him just one last time before your paths parted for good, but this… this wasn’t what you expected, not what you wanted. you didn’t want to feel like you were back to square one, no matter how hot he looked now or had been in the beginning, because back then you were nothing to each other—except ‘friends with benefits’. yeonjun meant much more for you now, and deep down, you hoped you had grown to mean more to him too, but perhaps you didn’t know him well enough to know what his mixed signals meant. 

yeonjun cursed breathlessly into the skin of your shoulder, and it was the first time since he pushed you into the mirror that he allowed himself to touch your skin with his lips alone, without using his teeth. just that simple gesture made him dizzy—being tender with you again. he had another problem, though—no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't seem to get fully hard. yeonjun had no idea why—you finally were next to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, as he marked you like it was the last time— it was, he realized. it was the last time, and he couldn’t even fuck you properly so you wouldn’t think of anyone else no matter how much other men tried to please you. it irritated him even more, but he hoped his thigh would suffice—he had always been able to make you cum on it easily. 

you heard another curse from him, barely heard over your racing thoughts. you were far from understanding the reason behind it—probably something about you again. was it better than nothing? better than just having an awkward conversation about ending the arrangement and never seeing each other ever again? never— you couldn’t hold back the sniffle, your nose starting to burn as tears welled up in your eyes. you put your palms on yeonjun’s shoulders. no. you didn’t want to remember your last encounter like this, because you remembered the way your sexual encounters ended in the very beginning. one of you—the one who was a ‘guest’—would dress up in silence, get a taxi for themselves and leave the apartment, shutting the door for the other one to lock later. that didn’t last long, but if he was back to the very beginning… you knew you wouldn’t be able to leave his bed. 

another quiet sniffle left you, as you tried to push yeonjun away by his shoulders. “yeonjun, please,” your voice was too quiet, too small—you weren’t even sure if he had heard you, and even if he did, he might misinterpret it as you asking for more, because he pressed you harder into the mirror, rubbing his thigh against your crotch. “jjun, s-stop,” you sobbed out, fingers digging into the fabric of his hoodie, silently begging him to put an end to this confusing, heart-wrenching encounter.

yeonjun froze at the nickname said like that—with a sob—his body tense. had he hurt you?.. had he ruined everything? of course, he did, what a failure he was. he failed himself, but it didn’t matter because he failed you so much more. “i’m sorry, baby,” yeonjun whispered into your skin one last time before moving away and turning his back to you. he couldn’t look at you—not now, not like this. he didn’t deserve to. he was glad you stopped him before he went too far, because he knew he’d break if he continued, but he was too stubborn to stop on his own. to end everything himself too. 

you stood frozen behind him, his absence hitting you like a blow despite you being the one who pushed him away, a gaping hole replaced his presence. it wasn’t just your body that felt cold; it seeped into your skin, into your bones. you’d never felt so empty in your life. it wasn’t fair. none of this was fair. was that it? the end? were you supposed to turn around, open the door, and leave, acting like nothing had ever happened? was that what yeonjun expected you to do? not even a ‘goodbye’?.. you stared at his back, not being able to believe he wouldn’t turn around to at least look at you one last time. 

but even with all the confusion and insecurity, you didn’t want to leave. the thought of walking out that door, of leaving him behind, felt like tearing a piece of yourself away. you weren’t ready to let go, weren’t ready to forget everything. the only thing that was holding you back from telling him it was certainty that yeonjun wanted you to leave, but maybe—just maybe—there was a tiny possibility that he wanted you to stay? maybe finding someone else for this kind of relationship was too bothersome for his busy life? maybe you could push your feelings away?

yeonjun’s mind raced just as much, each second of silence stretching unbearably long. the absence of any sound from you was deafening. were you going to leave? why hadn’t you left already if you wanted to, so he could mourn his heart in peace? maybe you didn’t want to— he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. stop being an idiot, yeonjun. of course, she does. he wanted to turn around and tell you that he didn’t want you to leave, that he didn’t want it to end, wanted to promise you to keep everything in the ‘friends with benefits’ limits, never breaking any rules ever again. but words stuck in his throat, weighed down by the fear of rejection, of hearing you say out loud that you didn’t want him anymore.

his heart shattered when he heard the sound of the door being unlocked. this was finally it—the moment he’d feared. you pulled the door handle down, and… and he didn’t hear the door open. you didn’t open the door, but you didn’t let go of the handle either, frozen right before the final step. you knew he wouldn’t go after you—if you left now, it would be the end. you looked down at your fingers wrapped around the shiny metal. no. it was unfair, it was wrong—too many things you left unsaid, and he could be the same. you tried to think for him, assume what he wanted, and it was wrong. and even if he  just laughed in your face, it wouldn’t make your heartbreak much worse anyway. 

you let go of the door handle, letting it click back into place, and turned to yeonjun. he didn’t look back, didn’t turn around, but you noticed he was even more tense than before—probably not knowing what to expect. you cleared your throat, but it didn’t help, because your small “is this the end?” was barely audible, all the confidence you’d mastered just a few seconds ago disappearing the moment you opened your mouth to ask something that felt like it’d seal your fate.

but yeonjun heard it, of course, he did. he’d been waiting to hear your voice from the moment he turned away. he had to almost force himself to shut his damn mouth before he said ‘yes’, thinking it'd be best for you to stay away from someone as broken as him. you deserved to hear an honest response, even if your reaction to it broke his heart. yeonjun knew he had to stop deciding what was best for you—you were an adult, capable of making your own mistakes. if you let him stay in your life, he would simply help you deal with the consequences if you needed it. and maybe staying with him wasn’t even a mistake in the first place. 

yeonjun turned around and it felt like he hadn’t seen you for the whole eternity. he knew you hadn't left, but seeing you there… he wanted nothing more than to hold you and never let go. but he couldn’t. and he couldn’t say the truth openly either—he was afraid to influence your decision if he said he didn’t want it to end, so he tried to phrase it differently. “if you want to,” yeonjun knew it wasn’t his best, far from one actually, but it was better than anything he could come up with—much better than ‘yes, it is’. you didn’t reply, though, staring at him like your head was completely empty, panic rising in your expression. yeonjun swallowed thickly. “do you want to leave?” he asked, trying to help you.

the answer was so simple, just two letters—’no’. but somehow, every little thing about that short word was so complicated, and it was stuck on your tongue, because just ‘no’ wouldn’t be enough to explain everything. but yeonjun was waiting, and even though he tried his best not to show how anxious he was to hear your answer, you could tell he was. “i don’t know,” the words left your mouth before you could think them through. it was a lie, a goddamn lie. you knew! you knew you didn’t want to leave, why in the world would you say you didn’t? 

yeonjun watched the whole kaleidoscope of emotions on your face, and none of them were positive. you looked on the verge of tears even. this was the moment he realized he had changed, because the storm in his heart had finally calmed, and he knew everything he needed to know. it wasn’t even because your face had told him that your words weren’t what you actually meant, but because in the past, he’d have gotten frustrated, angry even because it wasn’t a clear ‘no’. but now? now, even if you really didn’t know, he could only feel a wave of calmness wash over him, because he couldn’t see it as anything except ‘not a yes’. 

you saw the tension leave yeonjun’s body—his posture relaxed and his face softened—and that’s when you realized you’d fucked up bad. he didn’t like unclear answers, always trying to guide you to give him a certain one. unsure about trying something new? he’d say he’d start slowly until you got your head around it and told him explicit yes or no. confused about your feelings? he’d listen to your unstructured stream of thoughts, gently guiding it when you got lost, until you could give him an answer. but now? now he was probably too tired of your shit to do any of that. 

yeonjun approached you in a few huge steps, towering over you—you felt smaller than you actually were, looking at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to expect. was he going to open the door and tell you to get out? you pressed yourself against it, palms flat on the cool surface of the mirror you hated touching, the uncomfortable feeling only worsening the anxiety in your chest. he raised his hand and you turned your head slowly to follow the movement with your eyes, your insides twisting in anxiety—you should have left instead of asking that stupid question, because maybe there could’ve been a chance to start over a few months from now, but you had ruined it with that stupid ‘i don’t know’.

you looked adorable when you were scared, yeonjun realized. a flicker of a smirk crossed his mind—maybe he should introduce you to some fear play. he slapped himself mentally—he was so relieved that you hadn’t left, that his mind started wandering, and it clearly wasn’t time for that. his hand reached for the lock, fingers curling around it, and he turned it slowly, the click loud in the tense air. his gaze stayed fixed on your face—he wanted to see your reaction. maybe he was petty, but only a little, and you weren’t entirely innocent either. 

and he was right to do it. your eyes shot up to meet his the second you heard the lock engage, surprise and disbelief flickering across your face, your gaze darted between his eyes as if trying to find cruel mockery in them, but there was none. instead, yeonjun took a small step back from you, his fingers brushing the back of your hand so feathery, that it could’ve been easily mistaken for an accident, but it wasn’t one. he needed at least a little touch, even that one grounding him, giving him strength to hold up until he could hold you in his arms properly—somehow, he was certain that’s how the day would end. 

“let’s go,” he said softly, choosing his tone carefully to avoid sounding harsh or scolding—adding to your anxiety was the last thing he wanted to do. “i’ll make us tea, and we will talk.”

you nodded hesitantly, watching his back as yeonjun left to the kitchen. it was a good sign, wasn’t it?.. you felt glued to the door, needing all your strength to peel yourself away. slowly, you removed your jacket, still unsure if he truly hadn’t told you to leave. your hands shook as you hung it on an empty hook beside his jackets, your gaze drifted to the key rack—the spare keys you had for months still dangling where you put them. you sat on the bench to undo your shoes, throwing a quick glance toward the kitchen through the archway—you couldn't see yeonjun, but you could hear the sound of cabinets opening and closing, the kettle filling with water and other little things. the noises brought comfort, feeling like home. 

your legs felt like jelly as you made your way to the bar stool behind him, your nails tapping nervously on the polished surface of the bar table . yeonjun sent you a little smile over his shoulder before turning back and continuing whatever he was doing. you assumed he was choosing which tea to make for you, and you decided not to interfere—he knew your favourites. and you were too awkward to tell him anything too, even just asking for a specific kind of tea felt… out of place.  

yeonjun opened a cabinet to grab a cup for you, and your eyes landed on all the familiar dishes—your cups, plates, and bowls still sat neatly alongside his. he hadn’t put them away when you stopped coming over all those weeks ago. you looked around the kitchen and the living room—everything still looked like you were living there. you hadn’t noticed it in the hallway, too shaken to pay any attention to it, but now you realized he kept a few hooks empty for your outerwear and bags, the spot you always took on the shoe rack wasn’t taken either, and even the spare keys to his apartment still had your keychain on them. 

your gaze stopped on the fridge, colourful letters bright on the glassy black surface. you couldn’t believe it still was there—’yeonjun dummy <3’, the playful phrase you made two or three months ago with letter magnets he bought for his little nephew—sometimes yeonjun’s cousin needed him to look after the boy and dropped the baby off at his place, and yeonjun wanted to be the best uncle ever, teaching the child all the little things like colours, animals and letters. you had been helping too sometimes, and you realized now how strange it probably looked—helping him play house with a toddler as though the two of you were a family. you shook your head trying to get rid of the thoughts. your gaze drifted lower—yeonjun’s response was still there too—’you too :p’.

so many little things stayed the same despite your absence, all of them so tiny you could barely notice unless you were looking for them, yet it felt like you could move in right now, live here for a month and wouldn’t lack a thing, because yeonjun had kept everything just as it was when you were still there. he either didn’t care to change it, or… your apartment stayed the same too—he never stayed at yours for too long, but his tableware was still next to yours, his toothbrush and toothpaste still were in the cup with yours, his shampoo and shower gel sat on the shower rack with other things that belonged to him. looking at those reminders of him hurt, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put them away. deep inside, you had hoped he would still come and stay at your place some day, and maybe he kept everything as it was because…

“i don’t want to, but if you want me to, i will,” you blurted out before you could overthink it. if you didn’t say it now, while your feelings were on the surface and at their peak, you would probably never say it.

yeonjun looked at you over his shoulder, confused. you didn't want to… drink tea?.. it wasn’t a problem, he assumed, still not really understanding why you would drink tea just because he wanted you to. he could make you a coffee. or a milkshake, or a smoothie, or just give you water. or he still had almost every one of your favourite drinks in his fridge—and out of it too, in case you didn’t want to drink anything cold. he glanced at the almost-finished tea on the counter in front of him. were you worried that he’d already made it, but now you wanted something else? he could drink it himself… he opened his mouth to ask what you wanted to drink instead, or maybe eat, but you clarified yourself.

“to leave,” you said, looking down at your fingers as you fidgeted nervously. “i don’t want to leave, but if you want me to, i will,” you repeated,  your voice grew quieter with every word, much less confident than it had been at the start—not that it was confident to begin with. you didn’t want to leave, didn’t want him to tell you to go, but if he thought it was better for him, you’d disappear from his life as if you had never been part of it.

yeonjun, on the other hand, felt warmth spreading through his whole body. he was one step away from grinning like a fool, smile bloomed on his face despite himself. yes, he had figured out you didn’t want to leave when you looked like you made the biggest mistake of your life by saying that you didn’t know if you wanted to leave or not. but hearing you say it out loud was completely different. “i don’t,” he said, turning to you with a smile, two cups of tea in his hands. “don’t want you to leave.”

you nodded slowly, watching him take a seat across from you and place your cup in front you. you still had a hard time believing he wanted you to stay. when you said you didn’t want to leave, you meant his life, not his apartment. did he understand what you meant? did he mean the same?.. you reached out to wrap your hands around the cup but jerked them back before touching it. you looked up at yeonjun, ashamed. “i haven’t washed my hands. can i… use the bathroom?” 

he tilted his head. you’d particularly lived here for some periods, why would you ask him something like that?.. “of course, you can,” yeonjun said like it was the most obvious thing—because it was. “there’s a hand soap too,” he gestured toward the kitchen sink, “along with a hand towel. as you know,” he chuckled, emphasising the last words. “feel at home, okay? nothing has changed.” he watched you get up with a quiet ‘okay’ and come up to the sink. yeonjun turned in his seat, watching you with a soft smile on his face. “but you can use bathroom if you need it for—”

“yeonjun!” you exclaimed, cutting him off and making him laugh—you thought you had missed that sound, but now you realized ‘miss’ didn’t cover it—your life just wasn't full without it. “i only need to wash my hands!” 

he replied with a teasing ‘mhm’, a smile wide on his face, and you couldn't help but smile back. the little light-hearted exchange made you relax a little—it reminded you both that despite the mess, you were still the same. you just weren't sure if ‘the mess’ had started three weeks ago or ten months ago, and the conversation that would clarify it was still waiting ahead. you bit your lip at the thought, sitting back down and wrapping fingers around the cup. 

yeonjun became serious too. he knew he'd have to be the one carrying the conversation, because his thoughts and feelings were clear and organized—he’d had three weeks to analyze everything, and your words today cleared the last fog, putting the final misplaced pieces in their places. you, on the other hand… you still looked confused, even after admitting you didn't want to leave and him saying he didn't want you to leave either. and with your habit of sweeping the worst of your feelings and thoughts under the rug and pretending they never existed, unless he lifted the rug himself, telling you to clean up and helping you with it… he assumed how exactly these three weeks had passed for you.

“do you mind if we focus on you at first?” yeonjun asked, his voice as soft as possible, as though speaking to a child or a frightened animal—he didn't want you to feel like he was scolding you for anything, no matter how much it hurt him. it was his fault too—he was the one who had drawn the line between you two with his stupid rules, resulting in you not being able to come to him when the thing burdening you was about him. the rules made sense at first, but he should’ve blurred them when he began suspecting you were slowly catching feelings, and discarded them completely when he realized he was catching feelings himself. he hadn’t, and it was a miracle you were sitting there in front of him now.

you shook your head, giving him all the control. not only did you feel guilty enough to think you had no right to set the rules, but you were also lost—unsure of what to say, where to start, or what he wanted to know the most. you decided to let him lead you through it, answering his questions to the best of your capability and honesty. you only hoped he wouldn't start with something like ‘what do you feel for me’ or anything similar, because you knew you wouldn't be able to give him an answer—you barely admitted it to yourself, saying it out loud… to him…

yeonjun smiled. “okay. but be honest, please.” he waited for your nod before continuing. he prayed he wouldn't sound like he was interrogating you. “it was a date, right? not just a friendly meeting?” he cursed internally—he sounded exactly like he was interrogating you. now he prayed you wouldn't see it that way, because it wasn’t meant to be an interrogation—he just needed to know what you were looking for when you went on the date. 

you nodded, eyes glued to the cup in your hands. you felt ashamed—like a cheater, for god's sake. you opened your mouth to explain, but found your throat dry. you took a tiny sip—perfect strength, perfect sweetness, perfect temperature. how could you do something like this to someone who cared about you so much? you were a failure… you swallowed thickly. “yes. i met him on tinder a few days ago,” you mumbled quietly, too ashamed to look him in the eyes. “i think i swiped right on him accidentally…”

yeonjun nodded, his eyes trailing to your fingers, which were tapping nervously on the cup. he knew the tea would be cold long before you finished it, he’d made it for you to give you something to busy your hands with, somewhere to look when you couldn’t look at him. his gaze returned to your face. good thing? the guy was an accident. bad thing? you were on tinder. he bit his lip, trying to phrase the next question. he assumed you were looking for another ‘friend with benefits’, but he couldn't just ask you outright. the question would be far more prying than the previous one. “why did you decide to go on tinder? decided to meet someone, i mean.” 

you looked up at him quickly before staring into the cup again. the full answer would be long—you would have to start with the pregnancy test and touch on too many sensitive topics you weren't ready to confront yet. maybe a shorter version would suffice?.. “i realized i should… settle down,” you said quietly. “i don't exactly mean marriage or—all the more so—children, but…,” you exhaled sharply—how to phrase it without insulting him and what you had? ‘serious’? ‘real’? ‘something that has a future’? you bit your lip. “committed relationship.”

it felt like a punch to the gut for yeonjun—it wasn't what he expected. he thought he’d scared you away by promising to be with you, promising something real, and you didn't need it, he assumed that you were looking for sex without strings attached. it made sense—the perfect sense—until it turned out to be exactly opposite. you wanted something real, something serious—not just sex here and there—but you wanted it with someone else, not him. what are you doing here now, then? he thought bitterly, a lump forming in his throat, his fingers digging into his own cup. he didn't know how to ask you why it couldn't be him, nor was he sure he was ready to hear the answer. 

you bit your lip harder at his silence, realizing that in the end you had insulted him. everything felt so difficult, every small thing adding layers of complication to an already overwhelming situation. you took a deep breath—there was nothing left to lose. it was impossible to make things worse—they were already at their lowest. you might as well finish what you started. “when the—” you coughed, your throat dry again, and took a sip, though you knew it wouldn't make your voice any better. “when the test turned out to be false positive, i realized that… what we had was… dangerous. risky. it turned out to be false, but what if one day…,” you shook your head. “i realized it'd be safer in… a proper relationship. and i can't have it with you,” you finished quietly. 

yeonjun wondered where that cruelty came from, because you’d driven a knife into his heart earlier, and now, with these words, you twisted it . he tried to wet his lips, but his tongue was just as dry. why were you like that? why hadn't you just left? why had you stayed—to hurt him more? but most importantly, why couldn't you have that with him. “why?” he asked, his voice hoarse, the word leaving his lips before he could think about it. he wasn't even sure what he wanted to know. everything, maybe? he wanted to look at you, but he couldn't, his eyes glued to his trembling hands—why in the world would he get his hopes up?

you felt stupid—not for what you had said already, but for what you were about to say. suddenly, the reason behind everything seemed so small, insignificant and utterly foolish. you would think it was impossible to make everything worse, but you clearly did exactly that right after thinking the very same thing just a minute ago. you wished you weren't such a disaster, ruining everything you touched. but you had to answer; he had asked you to be honest. “the rule,” you whispered, shutting your eyes in shame.

“the rule—” yeonjun repeated involuntarily, even quieter, as if unsure whether he’d heard you right. but he had, and he almost growled at the realization. the fucking rule—he clenched his hand around the cup holding himself back from hurling it into the wall. he ran his fingers through his hair, tugging it at the roots in frustration. one fucking rule—he almost slapped himself. calm the fuck down, yeonjun, he growled at himself mentally. he’d assumed again, he’d thought of the rule that would be the best, that would mean happy ending, but you hadn’t specified which rule—there were a few. ‘strictly exclusive’ could be the reason too. what if you wanted an open relationship? he could never share you with anyone. “which?” he choked out, his hand gripping the cup harder.

you looked up at him and flinched—yeonjun looked furious. his hair was messy, his jaw clenched tightly, his fingers digging into the cup to the point of becoming white at the tips. and the way he looked at you… like you were the reason for all his anger. if eyes could kill… but you were the reason. and you could only do one thing now—answer. “the ‘no feelings’ one,” you whispered, your own hands tightening around the cup. but unlike yeonjun, you weren't angry—you were terrified, because you knew where this conversation was heading, and it would inevitably end with a confession.

yeonjun decided to stop thinking altogether. he couldn't keep hurting himself by getting his hopes up anymore—he didn't even believe your answer meant ‘i have feelings for you, but i'm scared to go against the rule’. he was sure there was something he’d overlooked because he was too fucking full of hope and it made him dumb. he cleared his throat. “if it wasn't for the rule, would you consider a serious relationship with me?” it felt like he’d poured the last of his strength into the question. just answer it and let me go to bed. or get drunk. just don't complicate it, i beg you. 

the word ‘yes’ refused to leave your lips. not because you weren't sure or the answer was ‘no’—you were sure and the answer was undoubtedly ‘yes’. but as you looked at yeonjun, his gaze barely focused and his whole demeanor so, so tired, you hesitated. was that what he wanted to hear? you didn’t know anything anymore. “would you?”

you’re deciding to complicate it after all, yeonjun thought bitterly, feeling the weight of exhaustion slowly creeping over him. he couldn't do it anymore. this emotional rollercoaster had drained him completely, leaving him beyond exhausted in every way. fuck it, he thought. i'll be a man. he was just too tired for another round of mental gymnastics. “yes.”

you froze. ‘yes’? he said ‘yes’? was he too tired to understand the question? should you ask another time but clarify it? should you— fuck it. no, just fuck it. you’d play dumb later if needed. “me too.” 

yeonjun exhaled unevenly, resting his forehead on his palm. he couldn’t believe your answer, couldn’t believe this torture was finally over, and couldn’t believe he was so fucking drained, that he couldn’t even react properly to the fact that the woman he wanted to build a serious relationship with, wanted the same. he was a failure, a disappointment, and so many other things, none of them good. but if you stayed with him after what he was about to say, he would ask you to marry him on the spot. “we’re official, okay? i’ll…” he ran his fingers through his hair again. “i’ll make it up for you later. i promise,” he mumbled.

you nodded, tired too. you knew what he felt, because you felt the same when three more pregnancy tests had come back negative—emptiness, disbelief and bone-deep fatigue. it had felt like your world was so close to crashing down, that it started slowly breaking before anything real had even begun, and all the strength you had in yourself had been spent on trying not to let it break so early, so when it had turned out that nothing was going to be ruined, the damage—even the small one—was already done, and in addition to that you couldn’t even be happy about it, because it felt like all of your life force left your body long ago.

except, unlike him, you had someone to hold you through it all. yeonjun held you when you thought your world was burning to ashes and when you barely had any strength to sit up after knowing your world would be fine. but for him, you’d only added to his exhaustion and to the weight he carried—your awkwardness, your anxiety, your inability to think before speaking. and even when you did think, it never seemed to help. but he still wanted you, and you wouldn’t let your overthinking brain convince you otherwise. 

yeonjun stood and wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pulling you towards the bedroom. the barely touched tea forgotten on the bar table, as he guided you through the apartment. he wasn’t sure if you nodded—he’d seen it with the corner of his eye, though, maybe he was mistaken because he was too tired, but he didn’t care because you followed him to the bed without hesitation, only pausing at the edge of it when he dropped onto the mattress, groaning at the pleasant feeling of stretching his limbs and letting his body finally relax. still, he had to open his eyes to look at you, when he realized you hadn’t joined him. 

you hesitated. the bed was unmade and yeonjun was still wearing the sweatpants and hoodie he’d had on outside earlier, but you weren't sure about lying there right in your sundress. it wasn’t a big deal in the past—mostly because usually you both were quick to undress each other, kicking the bed cover away on the floor—but a three week long break had left you a bit uncertain about even the simplest rules of the apartment. “i wore the dress outside…” you trailed off, glancing at him nervously.

yeonjun chuckled breathlessly—you were so cute, even if you were being slightly annoying when all he wanted was to hold you already. he wouldn’t even care if you wore a coat and boots right now. still, he already felt so much better, lighter, anticipating finally holding you and refusing to let you go, exhaustion melting away bit by bit. he propped himself up on his elbow and held out his hand for you. “i’ll undress both of us and make the bed later, after a little nap,” he murmured and moved closer to you, taking your hand in his and tugging it gently. “come here, baby. i missed you so much.”

you giggled softly—sound that felt foreign after weeks of not having any positive emotions or feelings—crawling toward him, knees sinking into the soft cloud-like mattress, as he held your hand, his hand firm, but tender, holding you up so you didn’t fall. you hovered over him, trying to suppress more silly giggles at the sight of his tired face having the same happy, silly smile. by all logic, you were supposed to be the one holding him, yet it felt like he wanted to hold you. you giggled again at the thought—he was so ridiculous. 

and you were right—yeonjun turned onto his back and gently tugged your hand, silently telling you to lie down beside him. his other hand unzipped the hoodie, and he slapped his chest over the tank top a few times, wordlessly showing you where to rest your head. you obliged happily, the whole world fading away the moment your cheek pressed against his firm chest and his arms wrapped securely around you. nothing else mattered anymore—not when you could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feel the soft rise and fall of his breathing against the top of your head, and be held in a way that made one thing clear—he wasn’t going to let you go.

[strngegirl]

hii i really loved ur gojo: overtime drabble, can i req something similar with gojo but instead of us giving him a handjob he gives us one😞😞 idk if u write for male readers but if you do please do so!!

hellooo!! im happy you liked that post :DD nd i dont usually write for male readers but i would! so here it isss (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠) i hope it's satisfying enough </3 this is kinda rushed ,,,

cw: gojo x very tired m!reader, very aggressive handjob (reader receiving), cum eating (gojo), both are ordinary office workers, unestablished relationship, reader kinda hates gojo, not proofread

It's currently 9 PM and you still haven't gone home yet. You would if you could, but that's the thing; you couldn't.

Your boss dumped a whole stack of work onto your desk last minute, said something about having no one else to do this for, then proceeded to leave without sparing you a second glance. The cruelty of this goddamn country and its corporate workplace rules has you daydreaming about blowing the whole place up. Alas, you couldn't. There'd be more consequences doing that, so you decided to simply do your job like a good, loyal mutt. If you even want to call yourself that.

What's even worse is that, you're alone within the same vicinity as Gojo Satoru.

It's not like he's the boss that dumped all his work onto you, he's just another worker in this god forsaken office whom the boss hates—but you hate him even more. Born rich and yet he chose to work here, everyone likes his magnetic personality, he always wears designer, and he's fucking hot. It's infuriating how he has it all and yet he's here in the marketing department of a shitty company that's teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. What does he even gain from this? "Experienced being a peasant" on his resume?

He's currently in the cubicle right across from you, and you're not even sure why he's here. He's been humming trending songs that kept playing in stores for the past few hours and giggling at something you don't really wanna know. Can't he see you're literally suffering working overtime?!

You narrow your eyes at the scintillating screen, the only source of light in the dark office alongside the table lamp you turned on three hours ago. Gojo laughs at something and you clench your teeth, trying to will yourself to not react to his disruptions because you just want to get these over with and go straight home and sleep. It was going so well until he started to talk to himself, then the already thinning string of restraint snapped.

"That happened? No way. Crazy-"

"Can you shut the fuck up?" You growl, a hand running down your face as the other grip your mouse so hard your knuckles are whitening.

There was a moment of silence where both of you say nothing, and honestly you're starting to relax a little at the upcoming tranquility that you thought would arrive, but as quickly as it had came, it went.

You see Gojo's white hair slowly appearing at the top of your vision, and you lift your head to look at him. He's currently looking over your cubicle with an impassive expression, those azure eyes staring right down at you beneath his shades like he's judging you for something you didn't do.

"You talking to me?" He asks.

"Is there anybody else in here that's been yapping all fucking night?" You deadpan. Something about what you've said must've been funny, because he starts smiling. God, that's straight up aggravating.

He lifts his arms up to support himself as he leans onto the partition, making it creak under the weight of his pressure. The old thing's gonna break. You hope it doesn't. If he crashes down and crushes your computer, you swear you're losing it.

"You're so mean tonight, man. Can't you go back to throwing me nasty glares instead? I like those better." He pouts mockingly at you, which grates on your nerves even further. Your work is forgotten as you currently just want to snap at him.

"Why are you even here? Seriously. You don't even need to work overtime, no one is forcing you to do their work you can just go back to your fucking penthouse and sleep like I've been wanting to for the last few hours. I'm tired, hungry and I seriously can't stand wearing this goddamn suit for another minute. All I want is some peace and quiet and yet, you're there, doing god knows what and breaking the only good thing I have right now." Your voice rises at every syllable that leaves your lips, and once you finish you take a deep inhale, feeling your body heat up from unleashing your frustration. You look back up at him and all you see is a raise of an eyebrow.

Gojo brushes a strand of hair away from his eyes then slowly starts to bob his head, unfolding his arms and clapping them onto your partition.

"Ooookay. Well, I'm here for you, actually." It's your turn to raise an eyebrow at that. "Don't. Not yet. Let me explain."

He disappears back into his own cubicle for a second, before you hear the pitter-patter of his footsteps approaching your cubicle. He stops at the entrance and leans against it, both hands simultaneously tucked into his pockets.

"I wanted to talk to you."

You blink.

"And we couldn't have talked in the morning or afternoon?"

He smiles a little. "Mmh, no. It's... Personal, and I'd rather we don't have any interruptions."

Now you're kinda curious. Pushing your one-sided hatred for him aside, you turn your chair to fully face him as you inquire him with a questioning stare.

"Anyways," he pulls his hands out and clasps them with a clap. "I know you hate me. And it's probably because of my dazzling appearance and charming antics that have half the office swooning over me"—you roll your eyes at that—"but! I don't want you to hate me."

You scoff at that. Does he just want everyone to love him? Is that it? So there'd be more people at his beck and call?

"I don't want to turn into one of your fans, Gojo." You rub your eyes.

"That's not my goal! Swear." Suddenly, he walks over and places both hands onto the handles of your chair and effectively caging you in, the abrupt proximity prompting you to lean back so fast your head spins for a second. His face is mere inches away from yours, as if silently threatening to kiss you.

The intimate way he's looking at you right now is making you feel a cacophony of things you're not sure what to name. You're sure annoyance is in there somewhere, but also mixed with other things you seriously don't want to acknowledge. No, it's mostly surprise.

"What the fuck are you-"

"I like you more than I should, you know." He murmurs, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "No one else in the office looks at me the way you do. It's fascinating."

Surprise washes over you when he gets closer, the warmth of his breath fanning over your lips. It has to be the lethargy you're feeling right now, because why does kissing him seem so tempting?

Your lips suddenly feel dry, and the moment you dart your tongue out to wet it, you inadvertently lick his lips. He took that as a sign to crash his lips into yours. It was all bumping teeth, tongue biting and sloppy kisses, one that overwhelms your clouded mind. He puts more of his weight on you, causing the chair you're sitting on to roll back before it inevitably bumps into the partition, causing it to tremble slightly. That doesn't deter him from continuing to ravish your mouth.

You don't understand why you're not stopping him. In reality, you should be hating this. Hating him. But somehow, you're actually liking it. The realization sends shivers down your spine.

You hardly register what's happening, and next thing you know, you feel a sudden breeze brush past your tip. You yelp in surprise as your lips break off of his, causing him to promptly stop as well. Your eyes dart down to find he's already pulled your half-erect cock out of your pants, his hand wrapping a fist around your base. You snap your gaze back to his flushed face, a hint of eagerness in those eyes you used to despise but now desire to drink you in.

"Don't wanna?" He breathes, already loosening his grip on your cock. You instantly reach down to keep his grip there, manually making him re-tighten his grip. There's a newfound spark in his eyes, and the speed in which he suddenly starts stroking your cock gives you an immediate whiplash.

His lips meet yours again, the same hunger and fervor mixed with a heightened passion combined with the unrelenting pace in which he jerks you off, you swear your head is about to burst. The chair underneath you creaks so loudly you think it's about to crumble, but you hardly care when he's pleasuring you so fucking well.

Breathy moans escape from your mouth as Gojo drinks it all up, capturing them into his own mouth as he whimpers himself. He's fisting your cock like he wants to tear it off and you feel like it really is gonna fall off if you're not careful enough.

The air in the otherwise empty office has become heated, the serenity broken by both of your moans and the aggressive creak of your chair. You feel your cock twitch at the impending orgasm, and he definitely feels it as well because he starts chuckling into your heated make out session.

"Feels soooooo good, doesn't it?" He purrs, almost teasingly but there's no denying the underlying desire in his tone. You nod fervently as you start to thrash in your chair, and Gojo brings his other hand up to pin you down by the shoulder to ensure you can't get anywhere.

With a sudden cry, you jerk up repeatedly into his fist as hot cum spurt out of your tip, getting everywhere on his suit and hand. He doesn't really care though, because this might be the hottest thing he's seen all week. Gojo slows down his stroking before eventually stopping, just holding it firmly before his thumb moves to gently rub your sensitive head, smearing the cum over it. That action overstimulates you and you start whimpering, eyes rolling back at the slight pain it brings you.

"Such a mess." He murmurs, gazing almost lovingly at you. Slowly, he releases your cock as you let out a gasp, acting like you just ran a whole marathon. He brings the very same hand up to his lips as he starts to lick it clean, his tongue caressing through every crevice, trying to make sure he tastes every single last drop. You watch in a daze, watching the man you were despising toward not even three hours ago now licking your sperm off of his hand. He's the reason you even came.

God.

Gojo sucked on his index finger, making direct eye contact with you. He then releases it with a salacious 'pop!', bringing his head down again and kisses you. You taste the slight tang of your own release on his tongue and fuck, you think your dick is rising again.

"Do you still hate me?" He breathes into your mouth. You'd glare if you can, but you seriously can't bring yourself to. Your body is spent as hell.

Reluctantly, you shake your head and he smiles widely. Gojo Satoru got what he wanted, once again.

"Finally." He kisses you again. "Come home with me. Fuck your work, I'll talk to the boss for you tomorrow. I wanna fuck you."

You shouldn't. Damn, this goes against everything you believe in.

"I have a memory foam mattress. Silky blankets. And also really, really soft pillows."

...he sure knows how to tempt you. Fucking Gojo.

With a defeated sigh, you gently rub your cheek, hoping the red would go away.

"Okay."

[sulumuns-dootah]

In case requests are open, can we get headcanons for Kings and how they react after having a nasty argument with the mc? Bonus if the mc just yells “I hate you!” mid way

Thank you!

WHB kings having an argument with reader

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Kinda wrote this more as a general argument HC's so I hope you don't mind U.U

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It's kinda hard to have a mutual argument with Satan with his whole anger kink

The moment you start raising your voice at him, he's all red in face and begging for more

Maybe even hit him as hard as you can? *puppy eyes*

Now, if you actually manage to get Satan angry, he'd instinctively prepare to kick or punch you, but stops himself in the last second

He may be pissed, but he still cares about you and doesn't want to hurt you

So instead he'll just stomp away to try and clear his head

Afterwards he'll come back to you like nothing serious happened and try to talk things out with you

       ༺☆༻

Mammon is another one I can't exactly imagine getting into an argument with you

He's simply too reserved

That still doesn't mean he doesn't care

He does, but he's more apologetic than that

All he simply states is the truth and he understands that it may upset you

Just from the dynamic he has with Satan, it's clear he doesn't take stuff said/done in an affect seriously

But if you were to say some hurtful stuff, he would feel bad and calmly as you to take those things back after you've gotten it out of your system

       ༺☆༻

Oh, good heavens!

Arguments with Levi go as bad and are as frequent as you can imagine

9/10 of those times end with being hung from the ceiling once he's fed up with you

The words 'I hate you' don't even make their way out of your mouth before you're left gasping for air and pathetically kicking your feet in mid-air

Thankfully, since it's you, Levi won't "forget" about you so you're not at the brink of suffocating

Instead, he'll just let you down, give you a few seconds to catch your breath and ask you to apologise to him

       ༺☆༻

"I hate you!!"

"Pshah... No you don't. You love me"

Beelzebub's too carefree to actually take anything seriously

You could activelly try to cut him up into pieces and he'd still make jokes about you being kinky

Anger doesn't work on him

Have you seen any of his interactions with Bael?

I HC him having the same ADHD thing as me:

When someone yells at us, we just zone out and wait for the person to finish just to ask them to repeat themselves again, but calmly this time

       ༺☆༻

Belphie is somewhere between Mammon and Leviathan when it comes to arguments

He's too tired to get mad himself and will just let you express your emotions openly

But when he's fed up, you're quickly swallowed up by his void and kicked out Nifleheim

And not even Beleth can save you if you forcibly wake Belphie up just to pick a fight/yell at him over something

That's a big no-no

His country may be militant, but you're no drill sargeant to pester him whenever you want

       ༺☆༻

If you're arguing with Asmo, I recommend you watch out for what you're saying

Any iteration of the words 'fuck', 'suck' or a bodypart like 'dick' and 'ass' can veeery quickly turn the whole situation legs up

...Or maybe make Asmo turn you legs up

I mean, you will end up like that eventually (there's nothing better than angry sex), but still, you might wanna voice your point before you're unable to say more than his name, if even that

And what else can possibly follow up a hefty argument?

That's right! Makeup sex!

       ༺☆༻

I imagine Lucifer being used to arguing and screaming since all the other three Seraphims used to fight for God's favor all the time

So when you come storming into his greenhouse to pick an argument with him, he'll just calmly continue drinking his tea and answer you like it's nothing

But, if something mean and personal slips your tongue, expect to get the silent treatment until you chase him down and apologise with absolute sincerity since he can sense lies from a country away

[qoldenskies]

i have like. such mixed feelings on the medic leo headcanon, coming from someone that has used it in pretty much all of his work so far. me and the medic leo headcanon are in an off-and-on relationship and every time i think we're done for good its outside my door with a boombox in the pouring rain and i feel like i hate myself a little when i take it back. it fucks like a champ though which makes it KIND OF worth it

cause like. i really think its an implementation thing that frustrates me more than anything else. to give leo a special THING feels like it disregards such a core facet of his character, that being that he doesn't have one and he feels like the others do. "face man" feels like overcompensating. initially, "leader" feels like too much, and it feels like something he TOOK from raph. there's really an implication that he feels like his brothers are SOMETHING without him, but he's NOTHING without them, and he directly states the second part. (so he overcompensates and acts like they do need him)

i think to make this an early-in-his-life practice kind of throws that out the window. leo taking this up when he's young doesnt fit him, i dont think, especially because i see him as a very.... high wisdom low intelligence kind of character. good street smarts terrible book smarts, and that's kind of apparent by him being so clever and intuitive while also taking stupid dares and making actively reckless decisions to look cool lmao. he would swallow a whole bottle of shampoo because mikey told him to and then be confused why he's in the medbay and raph is yelling at him like ten minutes later

HOWEVER. i think it is a very good way to explore some of the nuances of him that actually MAKE him a good leader, once he steps into that role. leo is a people person. he knows his family, he pays attention to them, he knows how to manipulate them and it would make him a diligent eye in the field. things dont get past him and it makes it hard to hide when theyre in pain from him. he's the most likely to be like "cool, i dont give a fuck" when they try to dismiss injuries. he'll happily make it an argument if he has to; he'd be as stubborn as a mule when it comes to their well-being, and he's more calculative than he looks, which means raph and donnie's usual tactics of dismissal and deflection hit a wall when he puts his foot down on something.

so really i just go out of my way to not make it something EXCLUSIVE to him when its included (and i always go out of my way to make it recent, because why would they have a designated medic who they already know to go to when the concept of crime-fighting was NEVER something they thought would really happen?). it makes the most sense to be something that STARTED with donnie, considering he refers to resuscitating piebald as "my science"; medicine is included in the field of what he enjoys and invests in. donnie is a jack of all trades in anything he can get his grubby little hands on, but ive always seen him as squeamish, which gives a good reason for leo to get involved.

but i think leo would always underestimate his capability despite lots of hands-on experience, even though hands-on is literally how he learns instead of reading books and studying like donnie does. no matter how diligent and practiced he is in the field, he's still not exclusive in it, and it doesnt feel like something that IS a big thing to him. so he can do a few stitches, big deal. donnie and splinter can already do that! who cares? raph and mikey probably could too if they actually paid attention to any of donnie's yap-sessions. no matter how much he boasts about how much they need their cool brother to patch them up, he doesn't believe it, even as he gets better and better and better.

it also gives him the opportunity to really come to face how meaningful it actually is, and to be appreciated for that, especially if donnie is out of commission and he actually gets to utilize that strength. doomed timeline angst potential right there.

[aropride]

fascinated and distressed by chase's disordered relationship with sexuality + his emotions abt his own trauma & abuse

thru the beginning of the show he doesn't even realize he's hot despite being objectively attractive. when he finds out he's hot he then realizes people pretend to be interested in him as a person in order to have sex with him and gets super upset about it

he starts having a bunch of meaningless sex as a coping mechanism when cameron leaves him. and also a lot of other times. whenever something bad happens, basically, he starts going out with a bunch of women, just to feel something, presumably

^to the extent where hes known within the hospital as a slut. and has had sex with an insane amount of nurses. as well as presumably women who are not at his place of work.

he says doing this made him hate himself so he stopped. it's the b-plot for an episode and then he's back having meaningless sex again by the end of the episode

even his coworkers know this about him. and have called it out, masters even says she thinks he doesn't respect women bc, in her words, he's with a different one every few days or maybe he finds comfort in meaningless relationships

goes back to having meaningless sex within weeks of getting stabbed. which is really bad for wound healing reasons too. genuinely it seems like such compulsive behavior for him considering he keeps doing it even when its objectively not only a bad idea but actively dangerous

house even directly says he's "a serial slut" because he's "terrified of intimacy." incredibly accurate assessment

his relationship with his sexuality reads so heavily as someone who thinks they're not good for anything else

see also: dissociation & avoidance

we know he has a lot of trauma especially in childhood- he never really gets into it let alone into how he Feels about it but what we know is already bad & that's just the stuff he's okay with sharing with his coworkers or patients

in general he's very avoidant of his own trauma- when he gets stabbed he says he "can't change what happened, can only make better choices from here" as if it was his own fault, and refuses thru the whole episode to acknowledge that being traumatized by this would be a really normal reaction that he is definitely having. instead he just blames himself

also, he dissociates from traumatic things that happen to him - says "there was a stabbing" rather than "i was stabbed" for instance

when he's talking abt his childhood trauma he does it in a very similar way - he talks about it very bluntly and doesn't ever get into how he actually feels about it.

see also: dr. fawn response

general passive willingness to go along with anything- when cameron says they should have sex in s3 he's surprised and then he just kinda goes along with it. not bc he didn't want to bc he obviously did, but he's just generally very much someone who does whatever other people want him to do. i feel like he and cameron both tend to seek validation thru sex in an unhealthy way that i'm still gnawing on like a dog with a bone i have to go rewatch s3 to really articulate it though

he has a sort of desperation for praise and approval especially from anyone he views as an authority figure. he does whatever authority figures tell him out of this idea that it'll bring him approval and therefore safety

like no matter what house does or says to him he doesn't argue or retaliate or anything. even when house punches him he collapses on the ground in pain and then just keeps talking about the patient like nothing happened.

the scene in 3.10 after house punches him where he's in the ddx room and house walks in and throws the file at him and chase is startled and tries to pretend he's not. and he looks up with this huge fuck ass bruise on his jaw swallows heavily and pretends not to be upset. and house asks if he got that looked at as if he wasn't the one to give it to him and chase just swallows and says he's fine. dr fawn response :(

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (11)

originally posted on my old account. Trip loading twice weekly :)

Alexia’s pov 

“Ale please stay. Don’t leave me, please.” Hearing her beg for me not to leave her broke my heart. 

“I’ll be right back bebé, I’m just getting some water.” 

Alba and Mami were sitting on couch when it went out to the kitchen. 

“She asked me not to leave, so I’m going to go back in there. You should go home. Thank you for your help.” I set back off to Amelia’s room. The heart breaking scene of her curled into a ball, her eyes red and swollen, and the sound of sniffles through the air. 

I put her phone on charge and her water bottle on her bed side table, quickly making my way to the other side of the bed and climbing in. Pulling her into my arms and holding her until she fell asleep. After she had been asleep for half an hour, I messaged Keira and Lucy. Telling them I had Mil and asked them to come to her apartment. I didn’t know what to do. Im not good with my own emotions, and helping someone who is so deeply hurt is new to me. 

Keira Walsh: I’m here. Let me in please. 

Reluctantly, I got up, slowly in hopes to not wake Mil. The afternoon sun has lit up the apartment, it was bright and golden, a solemn contrast to the way Mils room felt. Opening the door, I was shocked to see someone else with Keira. Leah Williamson. 

“Hi Alexia.” The England captain shyly said. I opened the door further to let both women in. 

“Sorry, I thought it would be best to call Leah. She knows everything that happened with Milly and she got on the first flight here.” I nodded my head in understanding, that was smart in Keira’s behalf. 

“Is she asleep?” 

“Yeah. She was at the beach surfing and Mami bought us back here. She was just sitting in the shower with boiling water on her, she looked.” I had to take a second to compose myself, I would not be crying in front of Leah. “She looked broken.”

Keira and Leah just looked at each other. Sharing knowing looks and then Leah spoke up. 

“She said she loved you, right? That’s what caused this?” 

“Yes.” 

“I think we should all sit down. You need to hear this Alexia.” 

There were a few things in this world that make me anxious. Meeting my sisters new girlfriends, doing interviews in English, teenage boys and Amelia Higgins. 

“Okay so obviously you know the public details of what happened with Emily and her?” 

“Si” 

“Emily was going to end things. She had written down on a piece of paper everything she wanted to say. Basically consisted of that she was still in love with Mil. Mil was still her favourite person and that Mil was her soulmate, but Emily wasn’t hers.”

“Right? Okay?”

“Emily always knew that Mils heart didn’t completely belong to her. I think she hoped that over time it would change but it never did. Mil has always loved you.” 

I didn’t say anything. This was a lot to take in, her own friends telling me she has always loved me? What could’ve happened if I had said something earlier? Ended things with Jenni earlier? 

“Ale.” Keira grabbed my hands, taking my attention away from ripping my nails off. “She doesn’t want to love you because she’s scared. After being given the note, she blamed herself. Mil thinks she caused this. She doesn’t want anything to happen to you or to your family. If you truly love her like I think you do, you’ll need to let her come to you. There’s nothing more I want than to see you both happily together but that won’t happen unless she comes to you.” 

“I’ll wait for her. I don’t care how long it takes but I won’t leave her.” 

We didn’t talk after that, the sun started setting and they were talking about ordering food for dinner. 

“I think I’m going to go home. I think it’ll, uh, it’ll be better if I’m not here when she wakes up.” 

Before Leah or Keira could reply, Amelia yelled out from the bedroom.

“Alexia? Alexia? Fuck ale please come back. I need you to come back.” her voice broke, thinking I’d left her when she needed me the most. Running back into the room, I quickly climbed into the bed and pulled her into my chest. 

“No amor. I’m here. I’m not leaving you, okay? I’m here.” I felt her nod her head against my chest, then her tears slowly wet my shirt. I didn’t care about Keira or Leah in the lounge room, all I cared about was Amelia and making sure she felt safe and comfortable. 

Leah came in a short while later, letting me know she would be staying in the spare room and to yell out if either of us needed anything. As I lay there with Amelia’s head on my chest, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, and mine around hers, the only thing I could think of is how I could get used to this feeling. Selfish I know but it’s the truth. 

By 9pm, the house was completely quiet and dark. Everyone was sleeping or enjoying the peaceful evening. 

As the sun came through Amelia’s bedroom curtains, I felt lighter. Slowly opening my eyes I noticed she wasn’t in the room, the side of the bed she slept in was cold, her phone was gone and her favourite hoodie and wetsuit that hung on the back of her door. She was surfing. Of course. Deciding now was the best time to leave and go back to my own house, I quickly made her bed, opened her bedroom window and got the bottles of water to put in the bin. 

I had forgotten Leah was there, Keira seemingly had come too. 

“Morning capi” Keira handed over coffee. 

“Gracias.” Inhaling the smell of coffee before taking the first sip. 

“Is she awake?” Leah jerked her head towards the door. 

“She’s surfing.” No one said anything for a moment. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later.” Turning quickly , before either could stop me. 

I sat in my car contemplating what to do, I thought about messaging Alba, but it was too complicated. Mapi was next, but again, complicated. The only person I truly wanted to talk to was Amelia. But I wasn’t sure if she wanted that. Despite the thoughts telling me to leave her alone, I made my way to the beach. Stopping to get her a coffee so she could have it when she got out. 

Since it was still early, it was easy to park and find her stuff. I made myself comfortable and waited. I didn’t have to wait too long because she had noticed me and started making her way back to the shore. 

“I got you a coffee. Caramel latte right?” I asked as I handed it to her. 

“Thanks Ale.” She sat down, closer to me than usual. 

Silence engulfed us. 

“So Leah’s here huh?” She said more as a question than a statement. 

“Yeah. She came last night. Keira rang her apparently and she got on the first flight.” 

“I don’t know how to do this Ale.” She whispered, I turned to look at her, confused. 

“Do what?” 

“Us. It was easier when I lived in England. I didn’t have to see you everyday, be close to you, listen to you laugh at something Mapi said or watch you with Vicky and Jana. I could watch you from a distance, love you from a distance. But now? Now I’m here and it’s almost too much. It’s so-“ 

“Overwhelming?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I feel the same way.” She rested her head on my shoulder, my arm wrapping around her shoulder. 

We stayed like that for a while. It was nice. But it wouldn’t last. 

[kisses4kuna]

How I think the jjk characters would comfort you after a break up !!

Includes: Satoru, Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi.

(Hurt/comfort, mentions of break ups (obviously) murder and vandalism (jokingly), might be ooc, written with fem! reader in mind but anyone can read!! Please ignore any grammar/spelling mistakes, I accidentally posted this twice...!..!.!!! So fixing it was a little difficult so ignore it if any paragraphs are merged......)

Satoru Gojo:

You've been isolating yourself in your dorm for about three days now.

The guy you've been dating just dumped you and you've been devastated since.

Of course, Satoru, Shoko, Nanami, even Yaga have reached out and tried to comfort you, but you brushed it off with a muttered “I'm fine.”, being sure to shut the door in each of their faces before they could say anything more.

But you weren't fine. Of course you weren't.

You were so in love with your ex. He was your entire world and he just left like you were nothing.

You've spent the last three days crying, sleeping, and rereading old texts.

You probably looked like shit, but you couldn't care less. What was the point in trying to look or act decent now that he was gone?

You're forced to pull yourself out of your thoughts once you get a knock at your door.

You groan, you really, really don't wanna talk to anyone, but you force yourself to get up.

You open the door and before you can even get out a full “What do you want?”, Satoru shoves past you into your room with a shit-ton of snacks.

“Did you really think I was gonna let my favorite person stay isolated and wallow in their sadness forever?” He asks, giving you a teasing grin.

You can't help the chuckle that escapes your lips.

“What's all that for?” You ask, pointing to the snacks that were now covering the entirety of your bed.

“Movie night!! We're gonna watch a bunch of movies and eat a bunch of snacks and stay up all night until you stop being all mopey!” He exclaims, and you feel an excitement replicating his bubbling up in your stomach.

“If your big ass doesn't eat all the snacks...” You mutter back with a sly grin as you get into your bed, sitting beside him.

He immediately puts his hand over his heart and squeezes his shirt with a look of faux offence.

“What!? And to think I went out of my way to be all nice to you after your dick-head boyfriend dumped you!” He whines, crossing his arms to look more angry.

This only pulls laughter out of you. His face immediately softens, it feels much better to see your pretty smile than your depressed frown.

He pulls you into an unexpected hug, and once you process it, you hug him back.

“I can hollow purple him if you want.” He says, muttering the words softly against your hair in order to keep the moment quiet.

“That's not happening and you know it.” You whisper back. Suddenly, this break up isn't seeming so bad.

Maybe you just need Satoru and your other friends, and you'll be better in now time.

Nobara Kugisaki:

Ever since you found out that your boyfriend was cheating on you, you've been visibly down in the dumps.

Right now, Nobara is the only one who knows since she helped you catch him.

“I just can't believe him. All that time together and he fucking cheats.” You groan before looking up at Nobara, who's currently going through your closet to help you pick what you need to throw out and what you need to keep since you've got way too much clothes.

“Yeah, he's a total moron. Keep or no?” She asks before lifting up one of your shirts.

“You can throw that out. And with my best friend too? No offense to you, of course, but seriously? He could've slept with anyone, and he chose one of the girls I trusted most in the world.” You shake your head and your heart clenches at the thought.

“Well, at least one good thing came out of this.” She says, tossing your shirt into the ‘keep’ pile.

“What?” You ask with major confusion. What the hell is that supposed to mean? She thinks it's good that you got cheated on?

“Now I get to be your best friend!” She smiles and laughs, and that causes you to laugh as well.

“Yeah, and I guess if he had cheating in his mind, I don't want him anyways.” You then get up off of your bed and sit next to Nobara, leaning your head on her shoulder.

She puts the pair of pants she was holding down and wraps her arm around you.

You both just sit like that. Neither of you says a word, but you feel a sense of peace washing over you for the first time since the break up.

“So do you wanna beat up his car now?” Nobara says, breaking the silence, and all you can do is smile and laugh.

Yuji Itadori:

“He did WHAT??” Yuji practically screams and you immediately slap your hand over his mouth.

About thirty minutes ago, you found your boyfriend (well, now ex-boyfriend) kissing another girl.

Your first reaction was to run to Yuji's room despite it being midnight and pray to God that he was still awake.

When he answered the door, you could hear Human Earthworm playing in the background, basically telling you that you hadn't woken him up or anything.

Yuji stares at you with wide eyes and says something from under your hand, buts it's muffled.

“Yuji, you have to shut up! It's midnight and I'm not supposed to be in here! We'll both get our asses kicked if we wake anyone up!” You whisper-scream to him and he begins frantically nodding his head.

You remove your hand from his mouth and wipe it on your shirt since he got a little bit of his spit on it.

“Ew...” You whisper softly.

“I can't believe him! You're supposed to be his Jenifer Lawrence, guys aren't supposed to cheat on their Jenifer Lawrence's!!” He whispers back, somewhat aggressively.

You can't help but chuckle at his dumb reference.

“Tell me his address!! I gotta square up with this guy!!” He whispers again and you laugh again.

You don't know it, but he's acting stupid on purpose. He's not super skilled at comforting people, but he's great at making people laugh.

“‘Square up’??? Yuji, what is this? A 2000's drama comedy?” You whisper through hushed giggles, your hand now over your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing too hard.

“I'm serious, no one cheats on my best friend without catching these hands!!” He whisper-yells back, which only causes you to laugh harder.

He continues making dumb statements until you both forget the time and are now laughing hard, not even whispering anymore.

Suddenly, there's a knock at the door that snaps you two out of your laughter.

Yuji quickly throws a blanket over you to ‘hide’ you in case it's a teacher then gets up to see who's there.

When he opens the door, he's met with an extremely annoyed and tired Megumi.

“Listen, I don't know what the hell you two are doing up at 1:30 in the morning but if you could shut up and go to sleep so that I can sleep, that'd be great.” He groans, glaring at Yuji then you.

“Do you think hiding under a blanket is actually gonna work?” He asks and you get out from under the blanket, your face is slightly flushed from embarrassment.

“That was Yuji's fault.” You say while pointing your finger at Yuji who them gasps.

“What!! I was trying to keep you out of trouble, how dare you push the blame onto me!!” He jokes back, and Megumi groans loudly.

“Just shut up.” He says before storming off back to his room.

Yuji shuts the door then walks back to his bed and sits beside you.

“We should have a sleepover!” He suggests with a big smile.

You tap your chin with your index finger, pretending to think.

“I dunno... You kick a lot in your sleep.” You tease him.

“I do not!” He retorts in offence.

“Fine. But if you kick me even one time then you have to do all my homework for the next month!” You say before laying down in his bed, pulling the covers over yourself.

He smiles and lays beside you.

“Deal.”

Megumi Fushiguro:

You hate this.

You can handle a lot of things, curses, training, homework, fighting...

But break ups?

You would rather take on a hundred special-grade curses all at once.

Megumi knows that about you. Which is why he's decided to let go of his nonchalant ‘I don't care about anything or anyone’ act for just today for you.

He knocks on your door and you answer.

“Oh, hey Megs. What're you doin' here?” You ask, your gaze shifting from his gaze to the blankets and snacks in his hands.

“Don't play dumb. You know I'm here to comfort you.” He rolls his eyes, walking into your room and setting everything down.

“I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.” You smile.

One of your favorite things to do is tease Megumi.

He knows that about you.

Come to think about it, Megumi probably knows everything about you. He's definitely your best friend. You'd probably choose him over anything and anyone. He knows your favorite songs, snacks, meals, movies, drinks, your biggest fears, your type, your pet peeves, everything.

So of course he came with every single snack you've ever said “Hey, this is really good” or “You know what you really need to try -!!” about.

Of course he came with his laptop to watch your favorite movies.

Of course he came with blankets and pillows to build a fort to watch said movies in.

Because contrary to popular belief, Megumi Fushiguro was the most thoughtful person you've ever known.

That's why he's your best friend.

“Oh, by the way, if you get a very detailed and remorseful apology from your ex, don't respond.” He randomly blurts out while building the fort for you two.

It's basically muscle memory for him after how many times he's done this for you.

“Megumi, please tell me you didn't threaten my ex into an apology...” You wince at the thought.

“I didn't threaten him.” He smirks as he puts the final blanket on the fort before crawling in.

You barely catch the smirk because it's gone within the same second it appears.

“Uh huh.” You reply sarcastically before crawling into the fort with him.

“So what do you wanna watch first?” He asks as he lists off all your favorite movies.

If you told anyone that the cold-as-stone Megumi Fushiguro was here in your dorm, building a fort for you and watching your favorite movies with you and cuddling with you when you both fall asleep, they'd laugh in your face.

But that didn't matter to you, since all you cared about was that you got to see that side of Megumi, and you wouldn't trade moments like this for the world.

---

A/n: this is basically just because I have evermore stuck in my head rn and it made me think ab Satoru helping reader after a break up!? Also, guess which one of them is my favorite 😋😋 I think it's obvious but idk..

[haveihitanerve]

Batboys centric in which they come to the realization that Bruce is pretty (not romantically, the kind of pretty when you look at your mom's wedding photos and see her in an amazing dress).

Bruce isn't used to people seeing him as pretty, but her Brucie Wayne persona because that's the whole point of it.

ohohoho i have a hunch this is you and also this is sooooo interesting... lemme see what i got-

“Do you want to come to the tavern with me?” 

The words caught Dick off guard. Both because he hadn’t heard anyone say “tavern” in years, and because Bruce had said it.

“Um?” He glanced up from where he was sprawled over the couch, looking away from his phone. “Yeah? Sure?”

Bruce hummed, reaching up a hand as though to run it through his hair, then thought better of it, and dropped it again. For good reason too.

Dick tripped as he stood, eyes glued to his father, blown wide. Bruce frowned, glancing down at himself.

“What's wrong?” He asked, concerned.

Dick’s cheeks burned and he ducked under Bruce’s arm, heading up the stairs. “Nothing, nothing, I’m just gonna get changed.” He muttered, hurrying up the stairs and ducking behind the corner.

Because what the fuck.

Dick peeked back out, daring a glance back down the stairs at his Dad.

Bruce was wearing a loose fitted light pink tank top, tucked half heartedly into deep navy slacks, hair styled away from his face in a way that clearly revealed his age.

It wasn’t to say that Dick had never seen his Dad in different versions of undressed. Quite the contrary. Their line of work required levels of nudity, whether while dressing an injury, showering, or working their secret identity personas.

But this… Dick shook his head, heading to his room to grab some clothes to change into.

Bruce was… pretty. 

The next time it happened, Dick had witnesses. Jason and Tim were sitting in the den with him, pretending to watch a movie.

Truly, only Jason was actually focused on the story, as it was a movie that had come out when he’d been dead, but Tim would look up on occasion, usually only to draw Jason into a quick debate before dropping his attention back to his phone.

Dick himself was listening to the movie like an audiobook, a real book propped up halfheartedly on his stomach.

“Tim, could you help me quickly?” Bruce called, a moment before he entered the den.

Tim dropped his phone, eager for an excuse to have some work to do, faltering only for a second when he realized the task wasn't case work. No, instead it was much much worse.

Dick lifted his book, cheeks burning, as Jason stared, eyes wide, jaw dropped.

Tim, however, seemed completely unbothered, hands moving quickly and effortlessly to help Bruce out before he dropped back into the seat.

Bruce ruffled his hair with a light smile, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Thanks Timmy. Boys.” He nodded at his eldest and exited again.

“Tim.” Jason hissed the second he was out of hearing, and Dick dropped his book.

Tim, who had returned to his phone, completely unruffled, glanced up, frowning when he spotted their gagged expressions. “What?” He asked, puzzled.

“You just-” Jason floundered.

“You just helped lace Bruce up in a corset.” Dick hissed. Tim blinked, mind whirring.

“Yes?” He finally agreed, still perplexed. “And this is important because…??”

“He’s pretty.” Jason scowled.

Tim laughed. “Guys, you do realize that our Dad is Bruce Wayne right??? The guy who wins every fashion contest? The guy our classmates call hotter than Superman?? The one person where guys go “i’m not gay but…” and girls go “i’m not straight but…” That Bruce Wayne, yeah?”

Dick scowled. “Yes. We’re aware. I’ve had to deal with those comments about him for much longer than you ever have.” He shot petulantly.

Tim raised his hands, brows furrowed. “Then what's the big deal???”

“We know he’s hot.” Jason snapped. “But he’s… he’s just.” He looked at Dick for help.

“He’s never been pretty.” Dick supplied. “Hot, yeah sure, handsome, okay, sexy, ugh, fine. But- but pretty??? He can’t leave the house like that. My ears will never recover.”

Jason nodded his agreement, looking like a grim military general at war and not a child discussing his fathers attraction level.

Tim looked at both of them, laughed, and propped his feet up on the table, picking up his phone again, chuckling like a supervillain.

“Oh man. And y’all haven't even seen him in a dress yet.” 

um. so.. okay. Firstly, I'm so sorry for the long wait, I just uh have been really busy and unmotivated and yeah im so sorry 😭- secondly, this is not like, even close to what you asked... and i also apologize for that, but i figured better late than never? and its like... kind of in line with what you asked so... yay? anyway sorry and here and hope you like it even tho its not what you asked :)

[asteroidtroglodyte]

I imprinted on Wicked (both book & musical) as a pubescent teenage boy, like a goddamn duckling, and it is now occurring to me in retrospect that I was a bit spoiled by the Love Triangle presented by Elphaba, Glinda, & Fiyero.

For starters, it’s a proper triangle, not just a fork. Any of the three of them had the ability to collapse the waveform, so to speak, by making a hard choice; many many “love triangles” I have seen since are simply old-fashioned contests of affection: 2 rivals for the same prize. Which is not a bad plot, but, you know. Call it what it is.

•

Fiyero & Glinda are a Social Apex Predator Power Couple. In a world without Elphaba, their romance would be painfully straightforward, to the extent that they would no doubt wind up dancing away from it, inevitably; a relationship just as beautiful and perfect and boring as every other moment in their perfect preordained lives.

•

Fiyero & Elphaba are neatly summarized by the following dialogue I just made up:

Fiyero: oh come on now this isn’t so bad

Elphaba: do you really think you’re fooling anybody, pretending to be happy all the time?

Fiyero: I happen to know for a fact that I am fooling everyone. Except, apparently, you. How the fuck did you know?

Elphaba: guess I know what Pretending To Be Happy looks like.

Fiyero:

Elphaba:

Fiyero: I guess I just feel like nothing I do matters. I’ve never had a real Choice.

Elphaba: …would you like one?

Fiyero: GODS YES WHAT WE DOING I AM DOWN BAD

•

Glinda & Elphaba are. I have so many feelings. I must organize.

Glinda: I am Perfect. I must be Perfect. I must appear to be Perfect. Our entire society is organized around a narrative that some people are Special and they deserve everything given to them, and I have been a recipient of many Gifts, so I must deserve it. But I do not believe it; I believe in popularity and cronyism; I am great, Good, even, but. It is a careful, careful act, and we must never misstep, lest we plummet to our-

Elphaba: [exists]

Glinda: you. You. are Actually Special. W h a t. No. Wait. Hold on. This changes everything. I have to. How do I be like you. How can I have a piece of your magic. I. How do I flirt with girls. I’ll copy Fiyero. Yea. Ok. I got this.

Elphaba: fly away with me

Glinda: oh my god I fumbled the only Actually Special person in the world I will never emotionally recover from this

[bunni-v1]

GOD!!! that smoking with lighter post… WOW!!!!! sorry need to run back into my cave with that………

i think… getting stoned with lighter? would that be fun? i could see him lighting a joint in your mouth with a zippo for sure 😋

Tw: Drug use; Bunni’s questionable choices freshman year

LMAO thanks mini ily 😭 I used to be the BIGGEST stoner my freshman year of college. I’m like 90% sure I went on a month long bender before finals where I was high 24/7, but it’s so blurry that I can’t remember how true that is. (My friends say that’s what happened so 💀)

I haven’t been high in likeeeee two ish years (yay sobriety)… but I miss it lowkey. Too bad I wanted to have sex with my boyfriend lol. And, well, my heart couldn’t handle it anymore. Anyway. Excuse any inaccuracies lol.

Unfortunately I’m pretty sure Lighter is kinda drug adverse? Idk, he at least doesn’t fuck hard with liquor which leads me to believe he’s not into smoking either but again where’s the fun in that lol.

I have a headcannon that he’s a lightweight no matter what he’s drinking/smoking, so it takes maybe two hits and he’s gone. (Depending on how strong the stuff is ig, but I only ever had crazy strong stuff so I am not a good judge here 💀) He’s the giggly kind too, everything is funny and he’s so smiley. Even things that aren’t funny, he’s smiling and giggling about like a moron.

He’s also incredibly affectionate with everyone, especially his partner. Leaning all over them, cooing at them, pressing kisses to their face. His obsession with them really comes out when he’s high. It’s adorable honestly, even though he always regrets it the day after.

He’s the kinda guy to also sit and stare for like hours and not realize time has passed. He’s just thinking bro, about what? I don’t think he even knows, but he’s doing it. The thoughts are happening.

Also, idk if this is typical for anyone but me but he has a comfort food he eats exclusively when high. It’s this disgustingly sugary cake that’s all chocolate and nothing else and would make the average person vomit. He almost always gets sick the day after cause that shit is genuinely so nasty, but when he’s gone it’s all he wants. (For me it was chocolate milk, and since I’m lactose intolerant it would fucking kill me in the morning.)

Oh my god, and my friends use to do this NASTY ASS thing (it’s kinda hot but like they were gross with it 💀), where one of them would take a nice long hit and then breath the smoke into their partners mouth. The partner would breathe in as much as they could and then they’d pretty much tongue fuck each other. That just screams Lighter to me idk.

He sucks are rolling joint and I think he’d prefer edibles if he had a choice. If not he’d rather smoke from a bowl unless someone else is rolling the joint for him. His hands are too big for that delicate kinda work. Cutie that he is.

Anyway, I think high Lighter is just a treat. Super out of character from his usual demeanor and I know he’s so fun to tease and mess with.

[auguryofjellyfish]

i read something that made me think deeper about Kamimura's death and how i feel about it....Tsuno's death left me catatonic on friday because i love her deeply, but Kamimura's got wedged in my gut like a shard of glass. or: why Kamimura's death feels worse to me than Tsuno's.

it mostly comes down to the matter of his potential as a person and the circumstances of his death put together.

Tsuno…she had already found herself. just as some other characters, we have met her after she had already grown into herself, and "completed her arc". she knew who she wanted to be and worked tirelessly to uphold that ideal. she had loving family and friends and lived her best life, one that brought her fulfillment. she kept being herself in the killing game. connecting, caring, and loving with all her heart. she remained true to herself until the end.

she died doing what she's always have…trying her best. losing her is deeply tragic because she shone so brightly in life. she didn't manage to do everything she wanted, and it's not like she didn't have problems or flaws, she could have grown further. she didn't die with 0 regrets. it's not like she was done, no, nowhere near. but she was complete.

but..Kamimura... what…did he have? years of suffering and depression, multiple suicide attempts, shaky and uncertain future. barely any family, no friends. Kamimura entered the killing game having almost nothing. but that's not the worst thing.

it's that he was just starting to grow. the killing game and the motives made him absolutely miserable but at the same time...he was starting to form positive relationships. he had started to accept at least some level of support, after years of having to be independent. and obviously, there's Ken- who, if they all had gotten out, would 100% have stayed in Kamimura's life.

he contemplated his life and his dreams. he set a goal. even if small, he was still looking forward. he was starting to become more connected, to gain things he didn't have before...ever so slowly, he was starting to change...and i'm sure, despite his cynicism and ever-present struggle, despite the possibility of dying at any moment...that deep down, the littlest seed of hope for his future was just starting to grow.

and then he died.

it's not only him. it's also his massive unrealized potential. unexpressed feelings, unsaid words. un-lived life. he didn't manage to build a life that brought him satisfaction. he didn't…he didn't manage to do a single thing with his life that he wanted. he was nowhere near his full potential. he died as he lived and he's just gone and he got NOTHING. JUST after he was presented with the hope of his life possibly becoming different.

if Tsuno was at her best, a beautiful tree in full bloom cut short, then Kamimura was a little sappling slowly unfurling, and then getting stomped on and set on fire.

and you know what the worst part is? it didn't need to happen.

none of the previous deaths needed to happen, but they were forced to. this time, nobody snapped. nobody made a mistake, it was an active choice. there was NO good reason for him and Tsuno to die. just one person's selfishness, not even only to save their own hide but to also cause suffering. Tsuno's death was senseless and cruel but compared to Kamimura she at least retained some dignity. he didn't HAVE to be disrespected even in death, body torn apart and desacrated, like he was NOTHING. but he was, for the sake of a convoluted ass bullshit fucking plan.

yes, someone would have to die eventually with this motive. yes, not traumatizing hasegawa this badly thus incapacitating him would have added more risk for the culprit. idgaf. i'm not this upset that he died per se, it's that he died like this without being granted peace in death, with Hasegawa and everyone else unable to say proper goodbye because Kamimura's body's in fucking pieces.

[iamunabletothinkofablogname]

god fucking damn it

[cyellolemon]

A comic about Olive, and his meeting with the guy who could have ruined his life if it wasn't already so fucked up

[guidingthulite]

guys if the next n25 event is kanade5 and kanade helps mizuki in a way no one else could because kanade is what brought n25 together in the first place and gives mizuki strength to face her fears can you all go "alma you're so smart" and "alma we love you and your infinite wisdom" and "alma i'm going to draw kanamizu for you"

[rtfics]

I'm popping in only because a friend told me about this post.

Hi. Professional writer here. Warner Brothers and Tim Burton would never look at unsolicited screenplays. You'd need to have an agent and an extensive CV as a professional writer. Unless you're already a seasoned pro there's no way Burton would look at your script. Besides, for his films Burton creates the ideas and works with the screenwriters; they put words to what he wants to happen. And he adds and removes things during filming. He doesn't just take someone else's script and turn it into a film.

Also, and this is very important: You can't write a script with someone else's characters. You don't own the copyright to any of the Beetlejuice characters. If you try to make money using someone else's characters that's theft and copyright infringement. You can be sued. So the idea of your selling a Beetlejuice script is moot. Can't happen.

Dear god, don't send your script to screenplay contests or any place online that says you can sell screen plays. These are ripoffs. If you seriously want your script to be sold you need an agent.

You can't just send a script to a movie studio or a director and expect it to be read. People try this all the time, which is why pros only look at work sent to them by agents. The agents do the vetting for them. Being a member of the WGA means nothing. Being a member does NOT mean anyone will read your script. You have to be represented by an agent, and one with a good reputation.

And double dear jeezus god, do not go to AI for information. Go to the library and get a book about screenwriting written by a screenwriter. AI is shit.

Becoming a professional screenwriter, or pro writer in any genre, takes hard work and dedication. There's no easy way, no short cut. Websites that promise you such are there to take advantage of your ignorance and steal your ideas and/or your money. If you're not willing to do the necessary work -- which BTW will take years--- then just stick to fanfic writing.

Read I Will Not Read Your F*%!ing Script by screenwriter Josh Olson. I include it below. Believe me, his sentiments are the same for all directors and movie studios. This article is about looking for feedback, but it's the same for those who want to sell a screenplay:

We know you’ve been working very hard on your screenplay, but before you go looking for some professional feedback, you might keep in mind the following piece by A History of Violence screenwriter Josh Olson.

I will not read your fucking script.

That’s simple enough, isn’t it? “I will not read your fucking script.” What’s not clear about that? There’s nothing personal about it, nothing loaded, nothing complicated. I simply have no interest in reading your fucking screenplay. None whatsoever.

If that seems unfair, I’ll make you a deal. In return for you not asking me to read your fucking script, I will not ask you to wash my fucking car, or take my fucking picture, or represent me in fucking court, or take out my fucking gall bladder, or whatever the fuck it is that you do for a living.

You’re a lovely person. Whatever time we’ve spent together has, I’m sure, been pleasurable for both of us. I quite enjoyed that conversation we once had about structure and theme, and why Sergio Leone is the greatest director who ever lived. Yes, we bonded, and yes, I wish you luck in all your endeavors, and it would thrill me no end to hear that you had sold your screenplay, and that it had been made into the best movie since Godfather Part II.

But I will not read your fucking script.

At this point, you should walk away, firm in your conviction that I’m a dick. But if you’re interested in growing as a human being and recognizing that it is, in fact, you who are the dick in this situation, please read on.

Yes. That’s right. I called you a dick. Because you created this situation. You put me in this spot where my only option is to acquiesce to your demands or be the bad guy. That, my friend, is the very definition of a dick move.

I was recently cornered by a young man of my barest acquaintance.

I doubt we’ve exchanged a hundred words. But he’s dating someone I know, and he cornered me in the right place at the right time, and asked me to read a two-page synopsis for a script he’d been working on for the last year. He was submitting the synopsis to some contest or program, and wanted to get a professional opinion.

Now, I normally have a standard response to people who ask me to read their scripts, and it’s the simple truth: I have two piles next to my bed. One is scripts from good friends, and the other is manuscripts and books and scripts my agents have sent to me that I have to read for work. Every time I pick up a friend’s script, I feel guilty that I’m ignoring work. Every time I pick something up from the other pile, I feel guilty that I’m ignoring my friends. If I read yours before any of that, I’d be an awful person.

Most people get that. But sometimes you find yourself in a situation where the guilt factor is really high, or someone plays on a relationship or a perceived obligation, and it’s hard to escape without seeming rude. Then, I tell them I’ll read it, but if I can put it down after ten pages, I will. They always go for that, because nobody ever believes you can put their script down once you start.

But hell, this was a two page synopsis, and there was no time to go into either song or dance, and it was just easier to take it. How long can two pages take?

Weeks, is the answer.

And this is why I will not read your fucking script.

It rarely takes more than a page to recognize that you’re in the presence of someone who can write, but it only takes a sentence to know you’re dealing with someone who can’t.

(By the way, here’s a simple way to find out if you’re a writer. If you disagree with that statement, you’re not a writer. Because, you see, writers are also readers.)

You may want to allow for the fact that this fellow had never written a synopsis before, but that doesn’t excuse the inability to form a decent sentence, or an utter lack of facility with language and structure. The story described was clearly of great importance to him, but he had done nothing to convey its specifics to an impartial reader. What I was handed was, essentially, a barely coherent list of events, some connected, some not so much. Characters wander around aimlessly, do things for no reason, vanish, reappear, get arrested for unnamed crimes, and make wild, life-altering decisions for no reason. Half a paragraph is devoted to describing the smell and texture of a piece of food, but the climactic central event of the film is glossed over in a sentence. The death of the hero is not even mentioned. One sentence describes a scene he’s in, the next describes people showing up at his funeral. I could go on, but I won’t. This is the sort of thing that would earn you a D minus in any Freshman Comp class.

Which brings us to an ugly truth about many aspiring screenwriters: They think that screenwriting doesn’t actually require the ability to write, just the ability to come up with a cool story that would make a cool movie. Screenwriting is widely regarded as the easiest way to break into the movie business, because it doesn’t require any kind of training, skill or equipment. Everybody can write, right? And because they believe that, they don’t regard working screenwriters with any kind of real respect. They will hand you a piece of inept writing without a second thought, because you do not have to be a writer to be a screenwriter.

So. I read the thing. And it hurt, man. It really hurt. I was dying to find something positive to say, and there was nothing. And the truth is, saying something positive about this thing would be the nastiest, meanest and most dishonest thing I could do. Because here’s the thing: not only is it cruel to encourage the hopeless, but you cannot discourage a writer. If someone can talk you out of being a writer, you’re not a writer. If I can talk you out of being a writer, I’ve done you a favor, because now you’ll be free to pursue your real talent, whatever that may be. And, for the record, everybody has one. The lucky ones figure out what that is. The unlucky ones keep on writing shitty screenplays and asking me to read them.

To make matters worse, this guy (and his girlfriend) had begged me to be honest with him. He was frustrated by the responses he’d gotten from friends, because he felt they were going easy on him, and he wanted real criticism. They never do, of course. What they want is a few tough notes to give the illusion of honesty, and then some pats on the head. What they want — always — is encouragement, even when they shouldn’t get any.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to tell someone that they’ve spent a year wasting their time? Do you know how much blood and sweat goes into that criticism? Because you want to tell the truth, but you want to make absolutely certain that it comes across honestly and without cruelty. I did more rewrites on that fucking e-mail than I did on my last three studio projects.

My first draft was ridiculous. I started with specific notes, and after a while, found I’d written three pages on the first two paragraphs. That wasn’t the right approach. So I tossed it, and by the time I was done, I’d come up with something that was relatively brief, to the point, and considerate as hell. The main point I made was that he’d fallen prey to a fallacy that nails a lot of first-timers. He was way more interested in telling his one story than in being a writer. It was like buying all the parts to a car and starting to build it before learning the basics of auto mechanics. You’ll learn a lot along the way, I said, but you’ll never have a car that runs.

(I should mention that while I was composing my response, he pulled the ultimate amateur move, and sent me an e-mail saying, “If you haven’t read it yet, don’t! I have a new draft. Read this!” In other words, “The draft I told you was ready for professional input, wasn’t actually.”)

I advised him that if all he was interested in was this story, he should find a writer and work with him; or, if he really wanted to be a writer, start at the beginning and take some classes, and start studying seriously.

And you know what? I shouldn’t have bothered. Because for all the hair I pulled out, for all the weight and seriousness I gave his request for a real, professional critique, his response was a terse “Thanks for your opinion.” And, the inevitable fallout — a week later a mutual friend asked me, “What’s this dick move I hear you pulled on Whatsisname?”

So now this guy and his girlfriend think I’m an asshole, and the truth of the matter is, the story really ended the moment he handed me the goddamn synopsis. Because if I’d just said “No” then and there, they’d still think I’m an asshole. Only difference is, I wouldn’t have had to spend all that time trying to communicate thoughtfully and honestly with someone who just wanted a pat on the head, and, more importantly, I wouldn’t have had to read that godawful piece of shit.

You are not owed a read from a professional, even if you think you have an in, and even if you think it’s not a huge imposition. It’s not your choice to make. This needs to be clear — when you ask a professional for their take on your material, you’re not just asking them to take an hour or two out of their life, you’re asking them to give you — gratis — the acquired knowledge, insight, and skill of years of work. It is no different than asking your friend the house painter to paint your living room during his off-hours.

There’s a great story about Pablo Picasso. Some guy told Picasso he’d pay him to draw a picture on a napkin. Picasso whipped out a pen and banged out a sketch, handed it to the guy, and said, “One million dollars, please.”

“A million dollars?” the guy exclaimed. “That only took you thirty seconds!”

“Yes,” said Picasso. “But it took me fifty years to learn how to draw that in thirty seconds.”

Like the cad who asks the professional for a free read, the guy simply didn’t have enough respect for the artist to think about what he was asking for. If you think it’s only about the time, then ask one of your non-writer friends to read it. Hell, they might even enjoy your script. They might look upon you with a newfound respect. It could even come to pass that they call up a friend in the movie business and help you sell it, and soon, all your dreams will come true. But me?

I will not read your fucking script.

Josh Olson’s screenplay for the film A History of Violence was nominated for the Academy Award, the BAFTA, the WGA award and the Edgar. He is also the writer and director of the horror/comedy cult movie Infested, which Empire Magazine named one of the 20 Best Straight to Video Movies ever made. Recently, he has written with the legendary Harlan Ellison, and worked on Halo with Peter Jackson and Neill Blomkamp. He adapted Dennis Lehane’s story “Until Gwen,” which he will also be directing. He is currently adapting One Shot, one of the best-selling Jack Reacher books for Paramount.

©2009 Josh Olson. All rights reserved.

So I'm still serious about writing that BJ3 script but I found out about all the requirements needed to join the Screenwriters Guild so its unlikely I'll be able to join. I had thought of joining since Warner Bros does not accept freelance scripts. As I said I'm still serious about getting my script into Tim's/Warner Bros hands. Does anyone know of any screenplay contests or anywhere where you can sell screenplays online? I really want to help all the Beetlebabes dreams come true by making Beetlebabes canon this time.

[ninjagirlstar5]

So, uh, I might've gone a little crazy last week and came up with a Kanade Concept rewrite. (And made some redesigns of IRL!Kanade and IRL!Hibiki to reflect that.)

SO, for context, if you've been following me for awhile (or just came across some of my posts in the past), you'd know that my friend and I have been playing through SDRA2 for fun and it's around the end of Chapter 3 that I started making posts mentioning certain segments of our reactions, feelings, and some jokes. And to say we hated it would be an understatement. But I've had asks where I went on a rant about Chapter 3 more than once, so I won't repeat myself here. If anyone hasn't seen that, you can find it here, and here.

At this point, we're at Chapter 6 and during one of our after stream chats in VC, my friend, @bittersweetbeet, suddenly brought up an idea that could've tied Kanade (and thus Chapter 3) into the main plot and that was this:

"What if Kanade was blessed with Divine Luck from Utsuro like Void? Like, she wasn't in on the plan, but the reason why everything went south for her is because her luck was running out and got screwed over in the trial because of that, and was more than willing to die because she'd prefer that over losing her Fortune. It wouldn't fix Chapter 3, but at least it'd explain how she got away with all those damn murders for so long!"

I'm kinda paraphrasing here since I don't remember the exact wording due to this idea being brought up in the voice channel. But that was essentially what they said and it drove me NUTS at the time. After all, it's been brought up that Utsuro tended to bless a bunch of kids that were the same/similar age as him during his travels out of boredom, and while we don't know a lot about Kanade and Hibiki's parents to know for certain if they were bad and good (personally, I interpret them as decent people but tended to play favorites with Hibiki and accidentally neglecting Kanade, which only worsens their issues even when they try to bring them together), we DO know that Hibiki tends to bully Kanade a lot and that alone can make for a difficult childhood even when you have parents that care about you. So, with a bit of timeline adjusting, Kanade coming across Utsuro when she was, ahem, down on her luck, and getting blessed by him after she vents about her problems can make sense as this is something he's done for awhile now. And it should be noted that not every kid he blessed with Fortune had the same level of dire straits, as many had different levels of Fortune which faded away at different paces. It's why Void lasted for as long as they did since their situation was the worst of the worst so their Fortunes faded away much slower while others either succumbed to fates sooner or lost their fortunes and survived but couldn't handle being back in the same state they tried so desperately to escape from that they just...well, you know. Not every person that was blessed with Divine Luck was going to be a good person or, hell, some people can end up getting worse with the Fortunes they were blessed with instead of becoming better (like Mikado). And so, we started chatting ourselves up about this idea and I really wanted to share it here on Tumblr that I asked if it was alright if I shared it on my blog and they gave me the go ahead. I didn't share it right away, but I was thinking over how to word the post while I was at work. Which is when I realize there were...a few problems with this idea, unfortunately. Mainly this since I brought it up in our rambles channel in the Discord server to get my buddy's thoughts on it, so I'm just gonna copy and paste that:

"...I've been trying to figure out how to word the idea of Kanade being blessed by Divine Luck and I kinda realized something: how would Kanade realize her luck is fading…when she's not a part of Void? Like, she's not in on the plan from the very start so she's been reverted to a [place] where she believes that she's fine and her luck is still running strong. And how that would be conveyed to the audience…

Like, I can believe Kanade could figure it out, even if I think how the writer LINUJ showed off her intelligence to be stupid, but I'm struggling [on] how to explain how she'd figure out that she ran out of luck? She'd be surprised that things have turned on her suddenly due to her state of being reverted back to a time where her luck is strong, but would she fully understand the context to the point that she'd rather die with her sister than lose what she already have?"

Like, I could've been overthinking on that. I could've had it so that a character comments that she was just hit with a wave of bad luck and Kanade goes, "Me? The most luckiest person ever? Never! (...unless-)" But I was really struggling to come up with an answer I was satisfied with at the time and even Bertie was like, "it's stuff like this that makes it so that the only option that would fix Chapter 3 is by rewriting the whole thing." Which is something I do agree with. This idea wasn't a complete fix to everything that's wrong with Chapter 3 anyways, especially when it comes to Kanade and how the writing on her character just sank it into the depths of hell. It was simply an explanation we both really liked.

And then Bertie went on to say, and I quote, "Tbh I think it would be more interesting if Kanade hated Hibiki deeply rather than love her. It’d be cliche probably but it’s better than the weird incest-like shit we have going on here" end quote.

And I started off with a normal response agreeing and elaborating on the idea, like so:

"HONESTLY, yeah. It's better to just scrap the whole chapter and rewrite it from the ground up.

And yeah, I do agree that anything that's different than what we got in Canon is probably much much better. Although I would still want to keep the nuances of Kanade and Hibiki's status as victims of each other's toxicity. Hibiki is constantly bullying Kanade due to seeing how good Kanade is at a lot of things and is jealous of that but still cares and loves her as a sister even though she sucks at appreciating Kanade for who she is. Meanwhile, Kanade still loves her sister and willingly goes along with her bullying, going as far as to try and be meek and shy to appeal to her sister's dominant but cowardly ways but deep down she resents her for keeping her from doing things she likes even though she does genuinely enjoy spending time with her and gets jealous whenever other people get close cause it means that Hibiki won't bother to spend time with her. She often drives them away one way or another so she can have Hibiki to herself, even when nothing changes because Hibiki is her sister and she just wants her to love her and spend time with her (but not in the gross incest way and we're taking away the whole crazy serial killer thing, she's just her own level of toxic)."

And that's when I started spiraling into an gigantic ramble that lasted nearly an hour and thirty minutes (minus a dinner break) because my brain was in a creative mood that night. Enjoy my copy and pasted ramble (I won't italicize all of this to make it easier on the eyes cause if you know me by now, my writing gets very long + a bit of editing to make it a little more coherent):

"I still like the idea of Kanade being blessed by Divine Luck and being good at many skills because of it, and she's smart enough to realize that the boy she met long ago somehow changed her when she had openly vented to him about her problems the day they met (after giving him her umbrella to protect himself from the pouring rain, as she had ran away on a whim due to being fed up with her parents and her sister [at the time]). She's very grateful for what he's done for her, believing that the skills she now has can bring herself closer to Hibiki by being useful to her."

"But here's the catcher: her blessing doesn't work in the way she had hoped. Because surprise! Divine Luck has it's own set of rules despite being able to break reality as long as the chances aren't zero. Basically, Divine Luck can make you better at anything, get you anything, without having to go through the process of improving or skipping the steps that are needed to get the result, simply jumping to the result itself. However, out of everything it can change, from skills to getting someone shelter to just winning any kind of luck-based event, it cannot change a person's heart. And Kanade, despite having the skills that are "supposed" to bring her closer to her sister, only makes Hibiki even more jealous and she continues to bully her, going as far as to push her workload onto her now that she's so "good" at everything and proclaiming that she's just as good, if not better. Her blessing got her what she wanted but not what she needed in her case, unlike with the rest of Void, and she ends up paralleling Mikado as despite being blessed with Divine Luck, it did not make them better or improve their situation due to their own choices/how they used their blessing (Mikado because he constantly pursued Utsuro to the point committing crime after crime, Kanade because instead of standing up for herself and establishing her boundaries, she continued to support her sister no matter what, something that only ends up building the resentment in her heart). That's not to say that Hibiki isn't instigating most of the abuse, she is. But Kanade isn't making things better as she uses her skills to make herself seem like the better option in comparison to the people Hibiki wants to hang out with and get to know, even going as far as to scare them away to isolate Hibiki so she doesn't even have any options to choose from."

"And then, Chapter 3 rolls around and Hibiki starts to change, trying to be supportive of the group and take charge to help everyone get through the killing game. It…surprises Kanade, but she watches her sister change and grow, becoming more confident, cheerful, kinder…

…And she realizes that she hates it.

She hates the thought of her sister changing. She hates the thought of her being kinder after everything she's done to her. She hates the thought of Hibiki growing closer to these people, becoming attached and happy without her, Kanade, her own sister.

She hates the thought of being left alone again. She hates the thought that Hibiki is going to leave her again.

She hates it, she hates it, she hates it.

She hates her.

But she loves her.

She wants her to be with her, forever.

So why won't she ever look her way?

Why, why, why?

Kanade is spiraling in her head, trying to keep up her shy, sweet side up but gritting her teeth the whole time as she watches. Even when Hibiki is being kinder to her, still making her usual jokes about her but is actually trying to prop her sister up a bit more, it's only because Sora and Setsuka had suggested her to be kinder, not because she wants to. At least, that's what Kanade thinks. She doesn't want to believe her sister is changing for the better, that she's able to change at all, that she's going to leave her behind for other people again.

And when Setsuka tries to reach out to her on the third day…Kanade finally snaps.

She tears into Setsuka, accusing her of stealing her sister away from her, for giving her ideas to be better when she can't, she should never be better than she already is because if she is, she'll just abandon her and leave her all alone. Her stupid, cowardly sister can't ever hope to be on her own, she always has to rely on her, HER, not anyone else…and definitely not SETSUKA!

And before Kanade knew it, she lunges at Setsuka.

The scuffle was short…but the result was predictable."

"To elaborate a little bit more on Setsuka, she's was still pretty distant from the group as she was focused on doing what she needs for Nikei and stuff. But after Hibiki starts to break down a little and reaches out to Setsuka for help, she commits herself to stabilizing the group once more, supporting Hibiki and telling her and everyone else that she has something to tell them. But Kanade, watching this entire scene, only starts to become even more on edge as Hibiki, once again, reaches out to someone else instead of her. Despite trying to "change," Hibiki had so easily broken down once more, crying and begging for help, relying on another person for support and to "fix" everything for her. And that convinces Kanade that Hibiki can't change, she won't EVER change, and she bitterly goes to bed. But Setsuka notices Kanade's displeasure and, not knowing why she's unhappy, decides to take matters into her own hands and have a one-on-one talk with her to see if she [can] help. Unfortunately, this decision backfires on her hard, resulting in her own death.

Now, unlike in canon, Kanade panics as this was the first time she's EVER committed a murder before. Sure, she's harassed, blackmailed, and even threatened people that tried to get close to Hibiki before with violence, people that would only take her away from her. But she didn't…she never…she didn't mean to do this! But, no, Setsuka…No, no. Why should she regret this? Why should she apologize?

Setsuka was getting in the way. Setsuka was going steal her sister away.

And Hibki was still the same as she ever was. Not being "better," not ever "changing." She was still Hibiki, the bully, the sister, the bratty, snappy, fussy older sister that demands respect despite her cowardly, weak self. A sister that Kanade deeply loves…and hates."

"But she won't let her die her. She'll escape with her, a certain "ritual" should allow her to escape with her as it's an option for the blackened on the third island according to Monocrow. If she goes through with that, she can escape with her sister…and make sure she'll never change again.

But if she loses…then she'll die. She'll die…

…and she'll take Hibiki with her. For she doesn't deserve to live without her.

Kanade goes through with the ritual as fast as she could, relying on her skills (and thus her luck) to succeed in framing Hibiki and nearly gets away with it.

But, unbeknownst to her due to her current memories, Kanade's luck has been dwindling and since her situation wasn't as dire as Void's, hers has been fading away far faster than them. And ends up making a few mistakes that seem innocent enough until it all starts to pile up, with one last conclusive evidence fucking her over and revealing her to be the true culprit.

Kanade is seething when she's caught, her ego bruised and lamenting how the hell she lost, with Syobai dryly stating that her luck has run out. Kanade laughs, saying that can't be true. She's always been lucky! She's always been able to get things her way, even when she has no friends outside of Hibiki. This tips both Mikado and Nikei off that, hey, wait a minute, is she…? Of course, neither of them speak up on it due to keeping their own plans close to their chest. Everyone asks her why, why did she do it, with Hibiki grabbing her sister, begging her why she would do something like this, why would Kanade frame her of her best friend's death? A death that she caused?

And Kanade, after years of bottling up her own resentment…finally blows up at Hibiki."

"She tells her off for her bullying, of her neglecting to pay attention or spend any time with her unless she wanted something from her, and pushing all the things she doesn't want to do onto her. She proclaims that she had ALWAYS hated everything she's done to Kanade, wishing she could've done anything else, wishing that, for once in their goddamn lives, that they did something she wanted to do, not because Hibiki had chosen it. All Kanade had ever wanted was her love and affection, but she never appreciated her or all the things she's done for her. [She even went] as far to change herself to try and appeal to her sister and her wants and needs. And yet…despite everything, she still loves her. She loves the times when they would dress up together. She loves the times when they would perform together. She loves it when Hibiki actually cares for her. She loves her, because she's her sister…

And because Setsuka was getting in the way of that, she had to get rid of her. Just like everyone else…!

Everyone freezes when Kanade admits that out loud. She pauses when she realized what she said, but instead of apologizing [or even denying it], she doubles down. She admits that she drove away their childhood friend, she admits to spreading false rumors about their teacher and getting him fired, she admits to falsifying a hurtful rejection to a guy Hibiki was getting close to and pretended to be her so that she can ruin their chances of getting together when he finally confessed, she harrassed, blackmailed, threatened people that got close…and Setsuka was just another person on a long list of those that got in the way. She just…didn't mean to kill her. It just…happened. But Kanade…doesn't care about that. She doesn't care about anything anymore. It's apparent that her luck ran out…and now she's going to die.

But she's not dying alone. She refuses to die alone.

[After all, they're] sisters, right…? It's only right that they stay together till the bitter end, right?"

"Hibiki tries to back away, but Kanade grabs her just as Monocrow drags her into her execution, bringing her with them."

"The execution goes almost exactly the same but Kanade is doing her damndest to make sure Hibiki dies with her, with Hibiki trying to escape. And it seems like it was going to happen…until Hibiki beats the hell out of her with a microphone, crying and wailing for all the people Kanade had hurt in her name, demanding why, why, why. Kanade can only answer this:

"It was ALL for you. You and you alone."'

"Hibiki drops the microphone, backing away from the sister that was so possessive of her, in her hatred and love.

And then she runs away, leaving Kanade all alone.

Monocrow doesn't stop her, for this execution was only made for Kanade…and seeing her despair as she finally loses the one thing she had tried so hard to grasp onto slip away from her was enough for him to pull the lever, the platform underneath Kanade falling and killing her.

By the time Hibiki has made it back to the trial grounds, her gait is slow and unsteady, hugging herself as she stares down at her feet, processing what had just happened. What her sister had done. What she had done to everyone she knew. What she had done to Setsuka and Hibiki herself.

Why she had done it.

She had done it for her.

She had done it to keep Hibiki to herself.

She had done it because she both loved and hated Hibiki.

And the people that had been hurt because of Kanade…was because of her. Because of Hibiki. Because of all her bullying and her selfish wants, and because she didn't treat her like she should've treated her as a sister…! Because she's a horrible, awful person that hurt her own family until it was too late, her best friend dead, her sister, dead! All because of her…!!

Hibiki falls to her knees, going into dissociation as everything that she ever thought she knew and was normal shattered like glass."

"Hibiki, for the rest of the killing game, blames herself for what Kanade has done, but with Sora and co.'s help, she's able to rationalize that yes, what she did to Kanade was horrible and none of this may have happened if Hibiki had just bonded with her sister instead of bullying her…but Kanade had also made her own decisions, alienating Hibiki's friends and support from her to try and isolate her so she can try and force her to rely on her and her alone. Hibiki had done a lot of wrong that she probably can't ever make up now that Kanade is dead, but that doesn't excuse the awful actions Kanade has done either as many people were hurt from her own actions, one even losing his job and others probably traumatized from what she did to them. They were both toxic to each other and so long as neither of them were changing, that cycle was only going to continue until something broke between them…and this just so happened to be it. It's just horrible that it also ended in Setsuka's death alongside Kanade's, who was just as much a victim as she was a perpetrator."

"As for the reveal in Chapter 6, I was thinking of two options for Hibiki and Kanade's relationship:

The two of them, despite years [of] staying together as sisters and as a part of Melody Rhythm, only ended up falling apart as their toxicity turned their head as one of Kanade's past victims, their childhood friend, decides to finally come out and reveal everything Kanade has done to her and other people, even providing evidence of what she did. And the moment Hibiki found out about it, a public argument breaks out between them and Kanade finally spills out everything about her feelings on Hibiki, which only hurts both of them as Kanade had tried so hard to isolate Hibiki from other people while Hibiki had only hurt and bully her sister out of jealousy for years. But this? This was enough for Hibiki to stand up and go, "We're done here." And she leaves, cutting ties with Kanade for the shit she's done to others but also left reeling at the revelation of what her bullying and abuse had done to her sister. Was this…her fault? She wasn't sure. But she knew [she] had to make things right somehow, even if it's only for herself, reflecting on her behavior and reaching out to those that were hurt by Kanade, apologizing for everything that had happened even though it wasn't her fault that she chose to do the things she did and tried to make it up to them…if they want her, at least. [Meanwhile,] Kanade is PISSED that her sister left her, who went as far as to block her from her phone and even ending their contract as Melody Rhythm as she's left to deal with the fallout of the media bashing her for what she's done…but as time went on, Kanade is able to pick up the pieces and strikes out on her own, telling herself that she doesn't need Hibiki or the people that criticizes her for what she's done. She can do this by herself! She never openly apologizes, but she never says outright that she's happy with how things had turned out either, despite getting her career back on track…eventually."

"And then the Tragedy happens, they lose their parents, and one of two things happen.

Either 1.) the Tragedy brings them back together, with them starting off very reluctantly working together to do charities to help those in need, only to slowly and carefully rebuild their relationship while trying very hard not to fall back into bad habits as Hibiki admits that yeah, she's done a lot of horrible things to Kanade and she IS sorry for that…but she won't let Kanade hurt anyone anymore. She's trying very hard to be patient with her sister, as they know the Tragedy is a horrible thing to go through, they even lost their parents from it…but if they want to make things work, then something has to change between them, even if Hibiki is the only one taking the initiative FOR the change. Kanade is very reluctant to admit that she was EVER in the wrong for what she did…but as they continue work and bicker over the concerts they put together, their different ideas colliding but somehow coming together with the help of their coordinator, they start to…actually bond again. They start to talk things out, Hibiki is actually trying to show interest in her hobbies and the things she likes, and while she can never bring herself to like the same things she does, she's trying to be respectful and give her the time of day this time. She's trying to make things right for her, so long as Kanade never does the things she did again. And while Kanade doesn't like the same things Hibiki does, it's still a bond Hibiki is trying to nurture…and it makes Kanade question if what she did was ever necessary, that if she had just stood her ground, let Hibiki form her own relationships while searching for her own friends that she can rely [on] like the ones she had now…then maybe none of this would have happen. Maybe they could've remain as sisters, forever, if she just accepted their differences and tried to break away and do her own thing, while letting Hibiki grow as a person [as I think if Hibiki was allowed to bond with other people, she would've grew out of her bullying and become a better person, but because she never had the chance or had people that would stand up to her and let her experience the consequences of her own actions, she never grew out of that mindset as she was never put in her place before]…

[And then the killing game happens, reverts them back to their teenage selves, and they start their toxic cycle all over again until one of them literally kills and gets executed for it.]"

"Or 2.), Kanade and Hibiki remain separate, as not even the Tragedy and the death of their own parents can bring them together. Their parents funeral, one they tried to arrange anyways, only escalates into another argument, with Hibiki changing as a person…but Kanade did not. She still feels entitled to be Hibiki's one and only sister, her one and only support, and Hibiki recognizes that, deciding that it was safer that they stay separated as she NEVER wants to risk anyone else she loves coming to harm thanks to Kanade. The two part ways, with the both of them doing their own separate charity events, with Hibiki proclaiming that Kanade Otonokoji is not her sister, [not anymore], while Kanade proclaims that Hibiki Otonokoji will always be her sister, and refuses to acknowledge the fact that she had been disowned and will continue to be disowned for the rest of their lives."

"Either way, Hibiki is depressed to realize that their future together was never forever, and Hibiki had lost her sister…one way or another."

And that's it! That's the concept rewrite, plus the sprite edits since Kanade and Hibiki are no longer together as sisters and as a band outside of the Neo World Program, so their appearances reflect on that as they pursue their own solo careers. They're no longer trying to match each other, and Kanade pursues her own rock and metal music.

Oh, and while I was copying and pasting this, I had an idea that Kanade's relationship with Sora could be interesting as she's the only one that Kanade is actually okay with getting close to Hibiki...because Sora shows interests in both of them in their FTEs. She talks to Hibiki in private about her treatment of Kanade and even asked Kanade herself if she was okay as she genuinely cares about her just as much as she cares about Hibiki. This surprises Kanade as no one has ever bothered to look her way before, they always pay more attention to Hibiki than herself. And Sora makes it clear that she's genuine about this, asking her if there's anything she can do to make things better for Kanade when Hibiki is defensive about her actions. It makes Kanade feel...seen, for once in her life, and she actually likes that. So she allows Sora to get close, so long as she promises to continue being her friend, too. It's why Sora succeeds in befriending both twins while Setsuka ended up getting rejected by Kanade in the worse possible way: Setsuka unintentionally added to Kanade's insecurities by focusing mostly on Hibiki and overlooked Kanade's needs as well. She's not doing this out of ill-will, far from it. It's just that she recognized that Hibiki is a little weaker in her mental strength and her breakdowns were far easier to notice while Kanade was able to keep a cool head most of the time. So Setsuka prioritizes on supporting Hibiki first and foremost, thinking that Kanade can handle herself fine on her own. She's not completely wrong...but she's not right, either. By the time she finally notices that Kanade is hurting and reaches out to support her, it's already too late as she's finally reached her breaking point and snapped, which resulted in her own death. Just a little something to tie this whole thing off.