#it can literally only get better from here guys

[miumura]

MY GENIUS LILIIII OH GOSHHH THIS FIC WAS AMAZINGGG 😖😖 !! i wrote this reblog with fuzzy feeling by grentperez on loop so.. i was double feeling the lovesick energy over here <3 i haven’t read a long fic in a hot minute so this was a great way to get back into it AAAA

and because her writing is soso awesome, i NEEDDD to talk about parts of the fic ( i have a lot of ss…. i was hooked okay… ) SO SPOILERS AHEAD, PLEASE READ MY GIRL’S FIC FIRST — IT’S WORTH READING <3

okay this was absolutely CRAZY. MARBLES. “you’ll have to let me kiss you anytime” OKAYYYYYYYY HAN DONGMIN I SEE YOU. YOU SMOOTHHH FREAKER . even had y/n in shock unable to refute his points like…. oh he knew what he was doing.

he was already having me freaked out at the beginning like why is he fine already… it’s the lili effect help….

THE NECKLACE PART HAD ME GIGGLING!!! lili had graced me with a spoiler of her fic THAT HAD ME EXCITEDDDD so when i located it in the fic and the way she brought up the necklace again AJAKKA IM GIGGLINGGG AGAINNNN AS I TYPE THIS OMGOGM

and not him knowing y/n’s favorite things… guys… GUYS…. choco pie is so bomb guys LILI KNOWS WHATS UPPPPPP AND ANTON PASSING IT??? Like ouhhh taesan URE CRAZYYYY FOR THISSSS ( hot . )

TAESAN COMING TO THE RESCUEEEE ugh i just love how their rivalry relationship is still like present??? like yes call him stupid ( he’s going to be your stupid boyfie ) BECAUSEEE like lili acc incorporated it so well that whenever taesan came back in the picture, it just like… so what are we 😜 like guys… this made me realize why i’m LOWK a sucker for fake dating trope…

IS THIS A LEGALLY BLOND REFERENCE 🤞🤞🤞🤞 ( i never watched it… should i…. )

DENIAL DENIAL DENIALLLLL had my girl doubting everything when she’s there wearing his jersey… this is so real though i’d force myself into thinking its all pretend because… THATS LIKE THE ONLY THOUGHT ID HAVE SO I GET HER 😣

DARLIGNGGGGG GKILL MEEEEEE LILI WAS SICK FOR THAT OFHTMFKOFVK . YEAH THAT HEART BETTER BE BEATING CAUSE MINES WAS . envisioning taesan going up to her w a big grin on his face AND A HUG AT RHAT… bro i’d hit the floor before we could even lock eyes again r u kidding….

WE LOVE WHEN READER STANDS UP FOR HERSELF 🙌🙌 like yes know your worth bae !!! CUT THAT MF OFFFFFFFFF

B B B B B BOYYYYY DONT PLAY W ME RNNNNN ik he was giggling in his head about calling y/n his girlfriend…. trying to keep it smooth while inside he’s geeking and is like… “that’s my girlfriend 😍😍😍😍” (completely disregarding its fake dating and savoring the moment) BUT AAA THAT WAS CUTE SKKSKSS Yes take my hand.

HAD ME GAGGEDDDDD. THE WAY MY SMILE GREW WIDER WHEN TAESAN REPLIED TO WHAT HE SAID LIKE GOODNESSS TAESAN PLEASEEEEEE . this is becoming too much to handle Bue lili how did you survive writing this .

okay now i’m going to reach the pic limit on moblie so im going to stop with the pics here… MY COMMENTARY DOESNT END HERE!!!!

CONTINUING.

when taesan stepped in whenever anton had his hands on reader… 😍 like yes protective man GO GET YOUR GFFFFFFF . “don’t touch her” okay so stomach flipped over 360 and then did some breakdancing before it went back to its normal state.

hes literally so caring like . like ure giving me snacks ur jersey ur scarf and now a warm drink and heat pack …? What else does this man unable to give her . he’d literally give the whole world . this only solidifies my love for this even more bc

GUYS IM ACC A SUCKER FOR ONE SIDED RIVALS…. so when taesan was the one who really didn’t hate y/n I FREAKING CHEERED???? i lablhablahalahaj that. “how he cant stop himself from falling in love with you” PACK IT UPPPP TAESANNNNNOMG HES SUCH A LOVESICK FOOL . the way he describes the way y/n makes him feel its just like. Chefs kiss Quite literally.

like the way it gets harder for taesan to hold everything in and then y/n slowly BUT SURELY feeling the same way is just so UGHHHHHH “what if… i told you im not too sure i can pretend much longer?” TAESAN SHUTUOPPSUIDUROSIDODKD boy he shouldve just confessed there but lili is like poor edger lord over here and gave us the awk BUT CUTE FEELINGS THAT COME AFTER SAYING THATA AJSJJSJS I labh that.

like yes i need them two completely clueless about what to do next even though the feeling inside them is GNAWING them inside…. and lili delivered on that.

AND THE WAY ANTON KEPT APPEARING LIKE OMG???? BAE ILY BUT U WERE ON IT IN THIS FIC 😕😕😕. LET HER GOOOO GEEZ HES SO PERSISTENT. and the way taesan came to rescue her again ( need a taesan ) AND THE WAY HE HELD HIMSELF BACK PLEASEESTOPPPPPP THAT WAS EVILLLL OMG . MR FLIRT OVER HERE PLEASE SPIT IT OUT 🫵🫵🫵

as much as i did not like anton in this fic, i’d say he hsd a contribution of getting these baes together and y/n to finally REALIZE REALIZE SHES FALLINGGGG . like the way she slowly starts off noticing things about him to finally BOOM recognizing it all and piecing it together… LIKE I CHEERED ACTUALLY WHEN I SAW “You like him. You like Han Taesan” LIKE YES YOU DOOOO BAEEE 😭😭😭😭😭

and ANSNDN THEY FINALLY TELL EACH OTHER LIKE UESSSSS YESSSSSS PLEASEEE THIS WAS WHAT I WAS CRAVING FORRRRRRR .

oh gosh the part when yunjin says are theg dating and y/n says “no” while taesan says “yes” LIKE UGHHHH IK HE WANTED TO SAY RHAT SO BADLYYTT LIKE FRFR CONFIRM IT. i just love how their teasing aspects of the relationship overall was still there .

LIKE THEY ACTUALLY ARE BOYFIE GIRLFIE!!!!! like ohhh u thought i was done w giving ss ?? NOPE. SAVING BEST FOR LAST .

THE WAY HE WANTED TO HEAR IT AGAIN AGAIAJSNN AND THEN SAID IT HMSELF / AGREED TO IT. OHHH THIS IS SUCH A WINNNN. THEY LOVE ESCH OTHER!!!!!!!!!

and then taesan adjusting the H.D. pendant for her IH MY GOSHHHH YES LLEASE . its so subtle but reading that had me like wanting to take actual laps . A marathon even . AND THENNN THE WAY HE WAS complimenting her sayinf she looks good everyday like PLUEHAHS .

and the way he remembers like sm about her…. like wdym u still rmbr that 🤭 hes so sweet this is sickening . LIKE HE EVEN REMEMBERED THAT WISH LIKE OKAYYY bro was plotting since the get go.

WHEN THEY FREKAING KISSED OH HMKGODDDDDD a string of curse words flew out of my mouth that i will not be typing here . KIKE YESYEYSYSYS I WAS WAIITNGGFF AND RHATS LIKE SUCH A CUTE WAY TO BRING RHAT UP??? like okay taesan rizzler over here …

the way he wants that as his wish like please thats ur GIRLFRIEND !!! he’s so down bad like sir we see that blush even if u try to play it off . ITS SUCH A NEEDSDDD

WISH GRANTEDDDDD . THAT WAS RHE BEST ENDING I COULDVE EVER GOTTEN MY HEARY IS CONTENT . my heart is filled with taeyn moments i love it so much. lili granted My wish for providing such an amazing fic for us like GOODNESSSS this will be my bedtime story for the time being.

THE END OF MY SUPER LONG REBLOG!! ♡ i feel bad for my girl lili…. but this truly was wonders 😵‍💫 !!! I AWAIT FOR THE NEXT ONE HEHE ><

　ᅠ ✿　ᅠ NOT THAT I CARE OR ANYTHING　　────　ᅠ ( han taesan )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your ex, seemingly sweet anton, spreads malicious rumours about you that could potentially ruin your entire academic weapon career, so you have to take desperate measures𑁋and that includes a fake-dating contract and the bane of your existence, han taesan.

　　　ᅠ 한태산 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 13k ⠀ genre college au fluff angst if you squint one sided rivals to lovers academic weapon x campus crush ⠀ contains mentions of food vulgar words skinship pet names ⠀ note i’m sorry if this fic is.. all over the place a bit coz,, yea!! but this fic is highly.. self-indulgent.. heheh! and i originally wanted to make this more angsty but i’m already sad and single so, No! anyways, enjoy reading ^_^ ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ ＞︿ 　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

“ALRIGHT. Let’s do it.”

As you gaze into Taesan’s determined eyes, the entire series of events flashes through your mind. 

It was back in your first year of university—early winter, the day of the first snowfall. You were walking towards the three-floor library, the cold wind stinging your eyes. You rushed inside, grateful for the gush of artificial warm air that greeted you as soon as the doors closed behind you. The library was quite packed for some reason, and you could barely spot any empty seats.

You walked towards the edge of the library, a corner with the largest window of the level. There it was—one of the only empty seats in the entire library—but that seat was next to a boy, heavily occupied with his studies. Your pace slowed down as you hesitated. The boy had a focused blank look on his face, his headphones on, and several papers and notebooks were scattered on the table around him.

You felt like you wanted to just leave and go back to your room, but remembering how cold it was outside, you decided against it. 

After taking a deep breath, you approached him. With a shaky smile, you tapped the boy’s shoulder, muttering a silent prayer. 

“Excuse me,” you said as he lowered his headphones to his neck. “May I sit here? I-I mean, if it’s cool with you..”

He simply nodded. “Sure.”

You had sat down next to the mysterious boy for the entire day, not knowing that, in the present, he would be the bane of your existence. 

In this moment, you’re brought back to the present, startled at how you’re standing in front of him. The mysterious boy that you had sat next to turned out to be Han “Taesan” Dongmin—KOZ School of Law’s campus crush. There’s almost nothing “bad” that you’re heard of him, yet, when you find yourself walking towards him with a fiery determination in your eyes—you immediately know that you’re about to get hit with something you’d never expect. 

“A-are you sure?” you say, surprised to even find yourself stuttering. You’ve held yourself to such a high reputation—being your school’s academic weapon—you’ve worked hard to keep yourself true to that name. 

Well, to be fair, you didn’t expect Taesan to even say yes to your ridiculous plan—given that all that’s he’s ever done for you is say everything that will get on your nerves.

Taesan gives you a smirk. “Of course,” he says, clearing his throat. “Being the boyfriend of KOZ Academy’s academic weapon isn’t something you get to do everyday.”

The way he presses the emphasis on the word ‘boyfriend’ makes you flinch. It reminds you of your stupid plan; who in their right mind would offer Han Taesan—your rival—a fake dating deal just to make rumours about themselves go away?

“Right,” you roll your eyes. “Anyway, I think we need to enforce some guidelines and boundaries regarding this… set-up.”

Taesan shoves his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight to let himself stand more comfortably. The smirk still on his face, he replies, “alright. Hit me with all of ‘em.”

You whip your phone out, quickly showing him a document that you spent an entire night typing out—complete with every single thing he needed to do for you. 

“Here,” you say, frustrated at how Taesan’s smug smirk just never falters. 

Taesan runs a hand through his hair before leaning down to read through the document displayed on your phone. He finishes reading it quickly, taking a step closer to you after. He doesn’t say anything for a while, only to startle you by abruptly saying, “I agree.”

“What–?” you blurt out, surprised once again. You thought that Taesan would be more picky than– 

“Your terms are easy for me to do. However,” you narrow your eyes at the boy who’s towering in front of you. Of course he’s picky—he’s Taesan. “I’d like you to agree to my conditions as well. If I have to do some things for you, you’d have to do some things for me too.”

You sigh before nodding. How hard could it be? Besides, this whole ‘relationship’ you’re having with Taesan is merely a fake dating set-up. 

“Okay.”

Taesan whips out a full-blown smug smirk, making you roll your eyes. He pushes his glasses up his nose bridge, holding out two fingers. 

“First, you have to also put in the effort to make things real. Like, wearing my jersey when I have basketball games, and wearing my initials ‘round your neck,” he pushes his middle finger down, the smug grin still plastered on his face, “and secondly, you’ll have to let me kiss you anytime.”

The moment the word ‘kiss’ escapes his mouth, you choke on thin air. 

Why is my plan backfiring on me? 

“What? No–”

Taesan shrugs. “Basically, physical contact is allowed to be done anytime.”

You feel your face flush, immediately recalling the third condition that you showed Taesan. No physical affection unless needed. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that—it’s clashing with my third term.”

“But your first term: ‘the other party must always do his utmost best to make the relationship seem real’ exists, am I right?” Taesan objects relaxedly. “Then, my second term doesn’t clash with that. And I also do believe that that first term of yours comes before the rest. Am I right?”

You grit your teeth, sucking in a sharp breath. How could you forget? Taesan will always work to have the last word—be that in court or in conversations. 

Plus, he’s not entirely wrong. 

Though, you’ve never been someone who lets Taesan win willingly. 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, your heart twisting in detest at the way Taesan’s face lights up with a smirk again. 

“Then, we have a deal?” Taesan asks. 

You stare into his dark brown eyes once again, registering what you’re about to commit yourself to. All just to get rid of your ex and the rumour he’s pulled you into. 

You hold out your hand, Taesan gladly reciprocating. 

“Deal.”

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IT didn’t hit you that you’re officially Han Taesan’s girlfriend that night. However, the next morning, right after the two of you signed the document at the coffee shop you always study at—it hit you like a million bricks from the sky. 

You’re in a “relationship” with the person you loathed the most for the past year. The exact same man who everyone adores, who’s called the it-boy, the campus crush—is now your most “beloved”. Freshman you would rather jump off a cliff than to offer her nemesis a fake-dating pact. 

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I guess. 

“Here,” Taesan hands you a velvet box—one that obviously contains jewellery of some sort. 

Of course. Han Taesan’s always prepared. 

You let out a deep sigh, knowing what’s inside. Despite that, you ask, “what’s this?”

Taesan gives you a grin, one that you always see him don during the countable times that he beats you in quizzes. “Open it—I’m sure you’ll like it.”

You run your fingers around the edges of the velvety box, sceptical at Taesan’s sudden soft tone. “Don’t talk to me like that,” you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. 

Taesan, instead of immediately throwing a scoff in your face, simply leans back into his seat with a chuckle. 

Not waiting for whatever reply he’s preparing to throw to you, you open the box. Your eyes lay upon a beautiful, dainty necklace with a “H.D” pendant, nested elegantly in the box. You bite back a gasp, though you’re unable to hide your surprise. The silver necklace is one of the most beautiful pieces of jewellery you’ve yet to lay your eyes upon—it’s dainty and simple, yet it screams elegance in the best way possible. 

You look up at Taesan, obviously bug-eyed. “What- I’m- thank you?”

Taesan throws his head back, laughing. He perches an eyebrow up, clearly amused. “What am I supposed to answer? ‘You’re welcome’?”

Oh. It’s part of his terms. 

You glare at him. 

Not missing a beat, Taesan says with a big grin on his face, “what is your lazy ass waiting for? Put it on—or do you need me to help with that?”

You massage your temples, tempted to stick your tongue out at him, hissing the obvious at him—that you do not want to wear his initials around your neck. 

“I don’t need your help,” you say between gritted teeth, harshly yanking the necklace from the box. You swiftly clasp the necklace around your neck, secretly surprised that you’re able to do so. 

Maintaining a glare, you retort, “I’m only wearing this stupid necklace because it’s part of your terms.”

You throw your gaze elsewhere, Taesan laughing his stomach out in the background. Why is he finding your irritated state so funny? 

The pendant feels cold against your skin, sending tingles. You gulp, feeling odd. You hadn’t announced your ‘relationship’ to your friends yet—but seeing you with Taesan’s initials could certainly start rumours. 

A part of you is jumping with triumph—your plan is starting to set its course, while another part of you is afraid of it all. What if you’re finally not good at something, no matter how much you try—pretending you’re in love with your rival, the bane of your existence?

“We’ll start slow,” you hear Taesan say, pulling you back into reality. You quickly morph into your stoic expression—one that you find yourself often putting up around people. “Like everyone else does. Soft launch.”

“Ah,” you manage, nodding. “Sounds good.”

“Even though that necklace certainly is a big jump for a soft launch,” Taesan voices, chuckling. His words cause you to narrow your eyes at him, hyper aware of the cold metal against your skin—a mark that Taesan managed to place on you. 

It’s all fake, you chant to yourself. Once Anton gets the message, it’ll all be over. 

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THE past few weeks had been a blur. Nothing was out of the ordinary—you attended classes, performed mootings and sent in assignments like usual. Though, only one thing that was out of the routine.

Taesan no longer felt like a thorn to your side. 

You still hate him—you despise the way he carries himself, so proud and confident. You wish you could punch his face for the way he’s so smooth with his words, the way that his charm works on everyone so well. You absolutely hate the way a handsome idiot like him had the potential to beat you in every single subject if you slacked for even a minute. 

Yet, to the public, he’s your boyfriend. 

A cliche: rivals to lovers, they say. 

Despite being the one proposing the whole fake dating plan, you had been the one following Taesan’s itinerary so far. The two of you had finally exchanged phone numbers, and at night, Taesan would always send a list of ideas on how to make the soft launch more obvious day by day. 

The first week, you found yourself wearing tops that highlighted the H.D pendant, styling your hair to make it more noticeable—you even went as far as attending Taesan’s birthday celebration to top the chances of people noticing the pendant. And Taesan didn’t inform you of this one, but you often found him telling his friends, yours, or random coursemates to pass you drinks and snacks. You had no idea how Taesan had gotten the list of all your favourite things to munch on, but you secretly did enjoy the free flow of snacks. Anton had passed you a snack from Taesan too—five packs of your favourite Choco Pie. You couldn’t forget the bewildered face Anton had as he passed them to you, eyes filled with question and a hint of jealousy.  

“What’s up with Han?” he asked.

You shoved the Choco Pies into your shoulder bag, biting back a smile. Who wouldn’t be jolly after getting five of their favourite tidbits? 

“How would I know?” you replied bitterly. You quickly turn away from Anton, the uncomfortable feeling of being around him overpowering the bubbly feeling you had from getting snacks. 

“Well, those Choco Pies are from him,” Anton repeated for the second time. “And I don’t recall him being anything but hostile to you.”

You suppress a scoff. “Maybe he’s had a change of heart? His brain is probably tired of coming up with things to try and outsmart me,” you muttered. As if. 

“Well, if anything—if that asshole tries to do anything to you, I’ll… be here for you, Y/N,” Anton said, taking a step closer. Your eyes widened and your jaw clenched. You quickly finished packing your bag up, swinging it over your shoulders. 

You said that last time, too. 

“Don’t talk to me, Anton,” you responded as monotony as possible before running out of the lecture hall, not giving Anton even a glance. 

The following weeks, Taesan was hanging out with you even more than the previous week. He wasn’t being too obvious, but to you, him walking slightly behind you and not throwing a loud sarcastic remark was already an apparent sign that would show everyone that your dynamics had changed. 

Anton had found yet another chance to corner you after a Public International Law lecture. You stayed back in the hall to reread your theoretical essay before sending it in. Behind you, Taesan was packing up his things, busy scrolling through something in his phone. 

“Hi, Y/N,” you froze when Anton’s voice reached your ear drums. 

You look up at him with a glare. “What do you want?”

Anton flashed his usual pitiful, soft smile. “Nothing. Just a meal with you—this week has been quite stressful for you, right? I heard that last Monday’s mooting was rough.”

“You’re not even a law student, Anton,” you seethed. The KOZ School of Business student ID card hanging on Anton’s neck looked extremely out of place amongst the ocean of law students. “Please kindly get lost, go back to the Business building.”

“My course mates are boring. Besides, you’re more fun to be around,” Anton replied. “I know we… haven’t been on good terms, but give me a chance to fix it all?”

You gritted your teeth, your hands beginning to shake. 

The audacity of this boy… where is my stupid fake boyfriend when I need him–?

“I think she clearly said for you to get lost, bud.”

You fought back a grin. Finally. 

“Han?” Anton tilted his head. “Wait– who are you to tell me that?”

Taesan stood next to you, his backpack dangling from one shoulder. His height towered significantly above you, making you standing right below his shoulders—enough to match Anton. “Who do you think I am?”

Anton’s eyes darted towards the pendant on your décolletage, his eyes bulging. “What the…” you heard him mutter under his breath. 

Taesan seemed to notice this too, and he swiftly pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “So, get it now? Get lost, Lee, and give your ex some space. An ex is an ex for a reason.”

Anton then left with a fuming expression, leaving you in fits of relieved laughter after. You thanked Taesan, who simply responded with a polite smile. 

“By the end of this, don’t forget the wish, yeah?” he said, before walking out of the lecture hall. 

You stood there, blinking profusely. You had completely forgotten the last clause of your agreement with Taesan—once you were satisfied with his service, you had to grant him one wish. Anything that he wanted. 

You face palmed yourself. Why didn’t you think twice before typing that down? You mentally made a note to yourself to prepare your wallet for the outrageous request that the thorn in your side would make later on. 

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“ARE you and Taesan dating?” 

Sophia’s question makes you almost spit your lunch through your nose. 

“What?”

“Girl, don’t you dare pretend not,” Yunjin interrupts, pointing her spoon at you. “You literally have his initials as a necklace that you never take off! H.D., which means Han Dongmin, right? Isn’t that his real name?”

“It’s not like–”

“No, no. It’s so obvious! Taesan’s around you more now, and he even gave you a birthday present!”

Sophia smiles, “he looks at you so differently now!” 

Yunjin laughs, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, that too, I guess,” she then looks at you, directly in the eyes, “I guess Han Taesan and Y/N L/N have finally begun their lovers era, huh?”

You feel your cheeks warming up, and guilt fills your chest. You draw a sharp inhale before telling the girls the full story. And subconsciously, your fingers find the pendant, playing with it. 

“It’s fake,” you sigh, “I mean, not the necklace—he’s just pretending. I’m pretending, too. None of this is… real.”

Sophia gasps and Yunjin frowns. 

“Are you… sure? What for?” Sophia asks.

Yunjin nods in agreement. “I’ve always thought that dude had feelings for you, but I… I didn’t realise it’s actually wrong and my deductions were totally off.”

You scoff, though Yunjin’s words left you wondering. “Taesan doesn’t like me—have you girls seen how he treats me?”

“He treats you well,” Yunjin states plainly, shoving a spoonful of rice into her mouth. 

“No,” you immediately shake your head, “he hates seeing me happy! He always finds a way to stick his annoying nose into my life, mocking me. He’s like always, always there to only laugh at my face.” 

“Then why did he agree?” Sophia asks. 

“To what?”

“To fake date you,” she continues, taking a sip of her yakult. “Well, I’m sure you have a plan—a contract and all—don’t you?”

Your eyes widen. How do these two girls know you so well? 

“Yeah. I do. I’m doing all this because of Anton,” the look on your friends’ faces makes you feel a little relieved, “I need him to shut up about me.”

You recall the ridiculous rumour you’ve heard about you from Yunjin, that’s been going around like crazy—the rumour that you used to date Anton because he’s rich and that you used him as a bribe to get outstanding grades. Those close to you knew that is and would never become true—yet people are always jealous of others who have certain things better than them. 

It may seem like a small matter to some, but to you, it’s a matter of reputation. Your whole image and potentially, your graduation is at risk. What if the rumour reaches some professor and they report you? You couldn’t risk the huge amount of money and time you spent, only to be scrapped off the dean’s list due to some rumour. 

Yunjin herself had recorded proof of Anton trying to turn her against you, using that rumour. If she hadn’t shown you the recording, you wouldn’t have believed that sweet, kind Anton was the one who spread those malicious whispers about you.

Now, you’ve got to end it all. One way or another.

You continue finishing your lunch, Taesan somehow in mind. By the end of your lunch, you’re convinced that this is truly all an act—it’s nothing real, and in the end, you’re both just people who hate each other and use each other for selfish, personal reasons.

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“DO I really have to wear your ugly varsity jacket?” Dongmin hears you grunt through the call. He stifles a laugh, tossing a ball up and down. 

“Obviously, you dimwit,” he replies, “you’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”

Dongmin lets himself smile. The word rolls off his tongue like a simple melody—it feels natural for him to say. He finds it odd, yet entertaining—your reaction is worth it all. Besides, it’s quite refreshing to take a break from hating you, sometimes. 

“Besides, your ex is going to be there,” Dongmin reminds, his voice more throaty than expected. “He’s on the team as well, remember?”

“Yeah,” he catches your quiet answer.  

“Anyway, how do you even have time for all this?” you question from the other end of the line. 

“Hmm,” Dongmin hums, “I do have time.” 

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” you hiss. “You’re in law school, Han Taesan.”

“What? Like it’s hard?”

Dongmin lets out a hearty laugh as he hears you gasp—one of the loudest and most genuine expressions he’s gotten out of you yet. 

“I’m so done with you,” you huff. Dongmin hears you shuffle through your closet, most likely finding something to wear. 

“You say that everytime,” Dongmin whispers to himself softly. 

“Anyway,” you announce loudly, “you better have some food for me once I arrive—I’m wearing your stupid varsity jacket.”

“Alright, sweetheart, anything for you,” Dongmin jests in a sing -song voice.

He hears you yelp in disgust, chuckling. “Yuck! Fuck off, Taesan!”

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IT’S a friendly match, nothing serious, Taesan had said; yet you’re here amongst other significant others, to watch him and his team play against another school’s team. 

At the bleachers, you feel called out, and insanely out of place. Everyone looks so in love—girlfriends wearing jerseys with their boyfriends’ numbers and names on the back, painted their faces accordingly, and even cheering for them with their hearts; mothers and siblings gathering together to support their sons and brothers.

Everyone looks so genuinely in love, and you’re the only one who’s there just because you have to. You arrived only two minutes before the match started, too, because you obviously don’t love Taesan enough to be rescheduling your work shift to see him play.

You fidget with the edges of the varsity jacket you’re wearing, oddly feeling how it’s perfectly oversized on you. 

Earlier, Taesan had spotted you sitting awkwardly on the bleachers. He ran over to you, quickly handing you a quesadilla and a cup of bubble tea, before jogging back to the basketball court to warm up. He didn’t say anything, nor did you—but the gesture made you feel weirdly fuzzy. 

Taesan did actually get you some food, even though you grumpily yelled at him to do so. You thought he wouldn’t, just so that he could get on your nerves, just like he always does. 

You watch him and the team warm up, pumping up positive energy with each other. You take a bite of your quesadilla, trying to ease your heart—yet you just can’t forget the real reason why you’re here. 

Jersey number 35.

The whistle blows, indicating the start of the game, and you catch Anton’s glance at you. He gives you a wide smile, winking twice—a sign that he made up, thanking you for coming, just like the old days. You grimace, turning away.

The mission is to make it seem like I’m in love with Taesan. 

You intently watch Taesan play in the arena, his moves sharp and powerful. He slips through the opposition’s defense flawlessly, scoring goals smoothly. Every time he throws the ball, it gets into the hoop—people erupt in cheers and he’s surrounded by his teammates. 

And every time, Taesan looks up at you, flashing his signature smirk. His grin sparkles, lighting up the room—it makes you feel like you’re the only one in the huge arena. 

It makes you feel odd. 

Like there’s so much more under that grin he flashes to you every time he scores. 

You touch the pendant on your décolletage, the cold metal stinging against your skin. Your fingers trace the letters—the initials of Taesan’s birth name—reminding you this is all a set-up. You’re supposed to pretend, and Taesan is pretending too. 

He must be.

Taking a deep breath, you tug the varsity jacket closer to your body, shoving your hands into its pockets. The weight of Taesan’s name and number lay heavy on your back, yet you don a bright smile—trying your best to show your support for him. 

Right now, you’re Han Taesan’s girlfriend. Player number 11’s girlfriend.

The match ends with Anton’s final goal, and KOZ Academy’s team wins 115-113. The entire gym erupts in waves of cheer and heartfelt hugs, every attending person feeling proud of their team, losing or not. You jog down the stairs, heading towards Taesan, whose height stands out in the crowd. 

When you reach the end of the stairs, you notice Anton’s gaze on you. You glance at him, the weight of past memories dragging you down. At the end of these exact same stairs, you used to run straight to Anton, engulfing him in a hug after a match. You used to kiss his cheek, congratulating him for a successful game. You used to feel like your entire world revolved around him, and that you would be happy with him. 

But that was in the past. Now, you can look at Anton with nothing in your heart. You feel nothing but plain resentment—damning him for the things he did to you. You had thought he was the love of your life, that you’d grow old with him—but Anton had other plans, and another girl that he prioritised more than you. 

You turn your head away, directing your gaze towards Taesan. He’s talking to his friends, his hair wet from the sweat. He’s grinning proudly, talking about something that’s interesting to boys. 

You sigh. Hopefully this whole set-up works—Anton leaves you alone, the rumours die down, and you can go back to bashing Taesan’s head. 

And hopefully, you can move on, too. Once and for all.

From the corner of your eyes, you see Anton take a step towards you. Though, what you don’t see is that Taesan is faster. He waves at you, calling your name with a big grin, before running to give you a hug. 

Your eyes widen upon the impact, and it’s like everything is in slow motion. 

Taesan pulls away, ruffling your hair. His eyes crinkle with his grin. “Are you proud of me, darling?”

Darling. 

You gulp. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

You give him a laugh, trying your best to not make it sound staged. Your nose crinkles at the smell of sweaty boys. Taesan notices, of course, and he chuckles. 

“Sorry, I must smell bad. I’ll be sure to spray on some more deodorant next time.”

You gaze into Taesan’s eyes, his arms still around your waist. There’s some kind of softness behind his teasing look—something that you’ve never seen before. 

A small smile forms on your lips, one that you’re unable to hold back. “Good job, Taesan.”

“Yeah?” Taesan laughs, his eyes forming crescent moons. “Thanks, Y/N.”

He then leans in to whisper, “that’s the first time I’ve heard that from you.”

You push him away, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off, Taesan. I’ll be waiting at the bus stop.”

Taesan laughs loudly as you stomp away. “By the way,” he yells, “you look good wearing my number, sweetheart!”

You lower your head, biting your lips to fight two things—the urge to flash the middle finger to the jolly Taesan behind you, and the weird fluttering feeling that erupts in your stomach every time he calls you ‘sweetheart’.

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“Y/N,” you turn around, finding a panting Anton in front of you. 

You’re standing in line outside one of the most famous pasta restaurants in the heart of the KOZ School of Medicine square, waiting to buy this one pasta dish you’ve been craving for the entire month. You didn’t tell anyone you’d be here—not even Taesan or the girls—so you’re weirded out by the fact that your ex found you here.

“...Anton,” you curtly acknowledge. 

“Is it true?” he asks. 

You force your eyes close for a second, wishing that it wasn’t wrong to beat someone up. “What?”

“That you’re dating Han Taesan. I saw him kissing your cheek last time.”

Your heart almost stops beating for a second. Almost two months have passed, and almost everyone in the entire campus of KOZ Academy knows that you and Taesan are finally getting tired of fighting each other—falling in love instead. 

Your plan has passed the soft launch phase, and now, you’re having your nemesis call you sweet, adoring nicknames out in public. 

“Yes,” you answer, managing a deadpan expression. “What about it?”

“Do you love him?” 

You narrow your eyes at Anton, feeling like if he keeps on shooting questions like this, he’d go home with a black eye. “Why does it matter if I love him or not?”

“Because,” Anton starts, his voice beginning to waver with every following word, “you used to love me.”

His words hang in the air, thick with a known, cursed history. You could hear your heart stutter for a split second, but you shake your head, quickly suppressing the feeling. You take in a sharp breath, feeling the heat of old anger rise in your chest. You force yourself to look at Anton, eyes hardening.

“That was two years ago, Anton,” you say, your voice detached. “And you made sure to end it, remember?”

Anton’s face flickers with something—guilt, regret, maybe even a hint of fear—but you’re not interested in seeing it. You’re sick of it—too familiar with the way he can spin his words to make himself seem like the victim.

“You don’t get to do this,” you continued, lips tightening into a thin line. “You don’t get to just show up and act like we can pick up where we left off, after what you did with Mina."

Anton’s face darkens the moment your old best friend’s name leaves your mouth, but you hold his gaze without flinching. Anton opens his mouth, probably to throw another lame and poorly explained excuse that you’ve heard before, but you’re faster than he is. 

“Save it,” you snap. “You don’t have any right to ask me if I love Taesan after what you did. You lost that right the moment you lied to me and slept with her.”

Anton looks taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected you to bring that up, but obviously, you don’t care. You’ve held your feelings in for so long—leaving them behind quietly to try and move on without a commotion. You’ve spent enough time letting him walk all over you in the past—you’re not about to let him do it again.

For a moment, Anton looks like he’s about to say something more, but you don’t give him a chance. You turn away, taking a small step back as you glance briefly at the line in front of you. “I’m done with this conversation, Anton. You should be, too.”

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THE next morning, after your first class of the day, you sigh as you find yourself waiting outside of a rather packed coffee shop—allegedly Taesan’s favourite one—bundled up in Taesan’s scarf. Autumn is starting to give way to winter, and as it’s doing so, the winds and temperatures are getting crazier. You bury your face further into the softness of Taesan’s scarf, letting the mixture of champagne orange, passion fruit, and sugar vanilla attack your senses. It’s disturbing, once the fact that the scarf that’s warming you up belongs to Taesan registers in your head; however, you had no choice. Freezing your nose off was the only other option. 

“Hey,” you hear Taesan’s voice, turning instantly towards him. 

“Apple pie latte?” he says, handing you a warm cup of said coffee. Grabbing it from him, you perk your eyebrows up. 

“How did you know?” you say, pushing the scarf down. Taesan shrugs, sipping his own drink. You glance at the sticker on his cup: cinnamon maple latte.

“Instincts.”

You snicker at his reply, rolling your eyes. “Cut me some slack.”

The two of you then walk back towards the law school complex, where both of your classes will be held next. The winds begin to blow, and you find yourself hiding half your face behind Taesan’s scarf. You squint your eyes, blinking harshly as the stray strands of hair sting them. 

“I love autumn, but not this kind,” you mumble. 

Taesan glances at you, and in one swift motion, he grabs your free hand and shoves it into the pocket of his coat. He interlaces his hand with yours, letting his body warmth transfer to you. 

Your eyes widen, your brain slow at processing the situation. You whip your head towards the tall man walking with you, his expression relaxed as ever. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss, trying to pull away. 

Taesan gives you a look that yells ‘really, Y/N?’. “Keeping you warm?”

“I don’t need your help,” you retort, yanking your hand away. 

Taesan grabs it back, shoving it into his pocket. This time, his grip on your hand is firmer than before. “I don’t need my girlfriend to freeze to death—it’s going to ruin my reputation.”

Realisation hits you, again, like a ton of bricks right at the face. 

Oh. 

“Okay,” you say quietly, letting him do his thing. You look away, deciding to admire the surrounding golden trees. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of how this whole ‘thing’ with Taesan is temporary—and having a personal heat packet isn’t too bad. 

Once the two of you reach the lecture hall together, people begin to clearly spectate. You pull your hand away from him, rushing to your usual seat. Taesan, his expression calm as he always is, walks over to his usual seat as well—directly behind you. 

Then, two minutes before the lecture starts, the person you truly hated comes into view, and decides to sit at the empty seat next to you. 

“Hi, Y/N,” your ex, Anton, greets you with the biggest smile on his face. You mentally sob—already dreading the three hours to come.

You turn away, scooting as far as you could. The memories rush like a flood you can’t stop—reminding you of the heart-tearing pain the boy sitting next to you caused. 

“Y/N? You alright? You look pale,” Anton says, probing further.

“It’s the weather,” you reply dully, your lips downturned. You unravel Taesan’s scarf from your neck, placing it on your lap. Your eyes fixed onto the lecture, you ignore Anton’s attempts to get you conversing with him. 

“Y/N, are you free after class?” Anton whispers, twenty minutes into the lecture. 

“No.” You give him a side glance.

“And you don’t even take IT,” you fake a smile, “so I don’t think you should even be here. With due respect, get lost, yeah?”

“I’m honoured,” Anton whispers back. The soft smile on his face makes you gag. “You still remember things about me.”

“Oh, please,” you grimace, anger beginning to bubble up inside of you. “I’d rather make out with Taesan than remember even the tiniest bit of–”

You suck in your breath sharply, your cheeks flushing at an alarming rate. You had blurted your words out too fast to even register the fact that you’re actually wearing the said person’s initials in a necklace ‘round your neck. 

“You’d rather what now, sweetheart?” 

Hearing Taesan’s voice, you can almost see his smug smirk decorating that annoyingly attractive face of his. 

Your eyes widen. 

I did not just admit that.

You turn to Taesan for a moment, flashing him a sheepish smile. You quickly spin back to face the lecture, forcing yourself to focus. 

After the lecture concluded, you find yourself stuck in a sticky situation—Anton just can’t let you go out. 

“Do you want to go and grab lunch together? It’s pretty late for lunch, and I know your stomach gets upset easily if you don’t eat,” you wince upon hearing his soft tone. 

You frown, hating the fact that Anton knows almost a lot of things about you. “No, Anton, I’m sure I said–”

“She said no, Lee, I’m sure even a stupid motherfucker can understand.”

Seeing Anton’s eyes almost pop out at the sight of Taesan next to you, you’re sure that you look the same. You turn sharply towards Taesan, who has his hand perfectly placed on your back. The look on his face is fierce and scary, like he’s about to completely destroy Anton exactly where he’s standing.  

“Han,” Anton addresses him curtly. “I didn’t know that you’re on… good terms with Y/N.”

You fidget with the charm on your décolletage, collecting every bit of energy you have to maintain a stoic expression. 

Taesan flashes a sly smirk, pride radiating from his eyes as the corners of Anton’s lips twitch. “Why? Is it important to you who I’m close to?”

“No, but given your history with Y/N—I don’t want her to get hurt,” Anton blathers, “so I’m gladly asking you to–”

“What? Fuck off?” Taesan scoffs. Your eyes bulge, somehow not expecting Taesan’s choice of words to be so vulgar. “I think that’s what you’re supposed to do, Lee.”

“Y/N,” Anton says, desperation vivid in his voice. He grabs your wrist, and you instinctively step back. “C’mon, let’s go. I know you don’t like this stupid asshole here–”

Before you could even act, Taesan steps in front of you, shoving Anton to the floor. The students who are still lingering around stop to look. You couldn’t hold in your gasp—Taesan looks extremely angry, you swear you could see fire in his eyes. 

A thought clicks into your head. 

Taesan is the it-boy, of course he’s good at acting.

You take a step back, weirded by the heavy feeling of disappointment that begins to cloud your heart as soon as you remember the arrangement. 

It’s just acting, Y/N. Get it together. 

“Don’t touch her, bastard,” you hear Taesan hiss before he turns to you. Anger still lingering around, you watch with silence as Taesan relaxes the tension in his jaw. In a mirroring silence, he gestures for you to follow him out. You nod.

As you turn on your heel, Anton calls out, visibly irritated. 

“Y/N,” he says, “what’s going on?”

You give him a mocking smile. You swing Taesan’s scarf around your neck. “I don’t think I owe you an explanation, Anton.”

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AS you and Taesan walk out of the lecture hall, you can’t ignore the heavy weight settling in your chest. It keeps replaying in your mind: the way Taesan stepped in, fiercely protective—it’s all an act, right? You sneak a glance at Taesan, but his face is unreadable, his jaw still slightly clenched from the encounter.

“Taesan… you didn’t have to do that,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his scarf.

Taesan exhales through his nose, his shoulders rising slightly. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he then adds under his breath, “fucking bastard.”

You blink, unintentionally slowing your steps. That’s… different from what you expected.

“Taesan,” you try again, but he shoves his hands into his pockets, picking up the pace.

You know you should just let it go, but the air between the two of you feels heavier than it was before. Was it just an act? Maybe it was—and that Taesan’s acting skills are as good as the rom-com actors—but something about the way he had looked at Anton; like he was seconds away from doing more than just shoving him to the ground. 

It feels too… real.

A sudden gust of wind cuts through your coat, making you shiver. Instantly, Taesan grabs your wrist and pulls you into a nearby convenience store.

“Sit,” he orders, disappearing for a moment. You watch him move through the aisles, confusion twisting in your chest. You take a seat exactly where he ordered you to, your head fuzzy from the mixture of confusing, unnamed emotions.

When he returns, he kneels slightly, pressing a warm drink and a heat pack into her hands, his fingers lingering just a second too long.

“You’re hopeless,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “First my scarf, now this.”

You gasp dramatically, rolling your eyes as your lips twitch, your heart knocking against your ribs. “You’re the one who keeps giving me things.”

Taesan just hums in response, his gaze locking onto yours. His usual unreadable expression softens, something almost unreadable flickering in his eyes.

Your grip tightens on the cup, trying to shake off the way your body reacts to his warmth. This whole thing with Taesan was supposed to be temporary. So why did it feel like something had changed?

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DONGMIN takes several deep breaths, his eyes shut. The jazz music plays in the background, and the buzz of the cafe calms him down. 

No wonder Y/N likes this place. 

Dongmin opens his eyes, finding himself staring at you ordering drinks and some food for the two of you. You had dragged him here as soon as you finished your drink at the convenience store, repeating that you needed to treat him to some food. Your voice rings in his head, telling him that he needed to follow you to the coffee shop, to cool off his steam. 

“Do you like apple pie?” you ask, setting a plate of two slices of said dessert, accompanied by two scoops of vanilla ice cream.

“Why do you even ask if you’ve already gotten it? Seems like my preference doesn’t matter,” Dongmin replies, putting on the usual smirk. 

Your eyes widen and he chuckles. 

“Well,” you huff, “I like apple pie—and it’s impossible to find someone who doesn’t.”

“Alright,” Dongmin laughs, and it hits. His laughter dies down as the realisation sinks in—watching you devour your slice of apple pie like it’s the only food you’ll eat until the end of time. 

Dongmin, as he puts a bite of his food into his mouth, realises how messed up he is. He realises how often a hearty laugh escapes him when he’s with you—how a flustered, frustrated mess you make him. 

“Why are you being nice to me?” Dongmin asks. He pokes his fork absentmindedly into the crust of the apple pie, second guessing his question the moment it leaves him. 

You and he had always, always been rivals—a pair that’s never meant to get along. He’d always find you muttering curses and throwing glares in his direction; and he’d always find himself trying his best to reciprocate your disdain for him. 

Dongmin does hate you, too. 

He hates how you’re so confident, so diligent, so talented. He despises how hard you work, how determined you are, how you seem to always effortlessly bring him down and defeat him in academics. He feels the most intense dislike for you—whenever you walk in the room, he feels like the world is about to explode, along with his sanity. 

Dongmin hates, with a burning passion, how he can’t stop himself from falling in love with you. He absolutely loathes the way you smile, the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh, and the way you look at him—with such fiery determination that’s enough to knock him off his feet. He completely hates the way that he has to keep his tongue sharp, and his attitude insufferable, for you to give him a sliver of your attention. He perfectly hates the way it’s impossible for him to let you know that he doesn’t hate you, at all. 

Dongmin watches you open your mouth to reply, yet you don’t for a few moments. You return his gaze, uncertainty playing around in her eyes. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion. “We’re just eating apple pie, Taesan,” you laugh sheepishly. 

For the first time, Dongmin doesn’t have an immediate answer. He swallows the bite of apple pie in his mouth, unsure of what he should say next. His smirk fades and hesitation engulfs him.

You notice this, of course, and your frown deepens. Though, before you could do anything, Jaehyun—Dongmin’s friend, suddenly appears.

He greets Dongmin, patting his shoulder. “Yo, Taesan, long time no see! Wait–” he pauses, laying his eyes on you. “Wait, am I dreaming? You two? Sitting together? Laughing? Are pigs flying now?”

You immediately shake your head, laughing along with Jaehyun. Dongmin, on the other hand, is dazed. He stays silent, still unsure of what to say. He’s finding everything peculiar—the way he’s unable to say anything, the way that his heart is thumping loudly against his chest at the mention of you as his girlfriend. 

He watches you politely say goodbye to Jaehyun, gaining certainty with every beat of his heart. 

His little crush on you is resurfacing, after two years of pushing it down with faked hatred. 

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AFTER Jaehyun leaves, you let yourself sneak a glance at Taesan, who’s absentmindedly poking holes in his already destroyed pie crust, avoiding your gaze. You notice his oddly quiet state—the Taesan you know would never miss the chance to throw in a witty remark. 

You throw him a glare, slightly hoping it’d make him knock out of his trance. You set your fork down with an audible clink. “You’re being weird. I mean, you always are insufferably weird, but this is even weirder.”

Taesan scoffs, lifting his drink to his lips. “And you’re being annoying. Paranoid.”

You cross your arms, an annoyed grimace forming on your face. “Am I?”

Taesan holds your gaze for a moment too long, something flickering in his eyes before he looks away. “Maybe not.”

Oh.

You lean back, sighing dramatically. “Fine. I don’t get what you being weird has with me being paranoid, but yeah, I’m totally being paranoid. Definitely imagining things,” you scoff sarcastically.

Taesan hums in agreement. “You do that a lot.”

You choke on air. Glaring at Taesan, you retort, “you’re infuriating.”

“And yet, here you are, sharing dessert with me,” Taesan smirks, tilting his head. 

You pause, blinking profusely.

That… is a valid point. How did you even get here? You and Taesan are supposed to be rivals. Aren’t you supposed to hate each other?

Your stomach twists, and suddenly, you find it difficult to swallow your final bites of apple pie.

After moments of deafening silence, you say, your voice slightly wavering, “you’re unbelievably good at dodging questions, Taesan.”

You bring your drink to your lips, hoping that you sounded casual. 

Taesan looks up from his finished plate of apple pie, smirking as he leans back. “Oh, yeah? Have you ever considered that you’re too good at asking too many questions, and it’s insufferable?”

Your eyes widen slightly, flickering to the way that his eyes glare vaguely at you. “Maybe I am,” you admit quietly, “but you’re dodging the real ones.”

Taesan’s smirk falters a little bit, just for a second, and there’s something unrecognisable in his eyes. Something you can’t put a name on. 

Maybe a shift in the air. Maybe it’s just your imagination. Or maybe it’s because your heart is racing just a little too fast.

You’re so focused on trying to read Taesan’s expressions that you don’t notice the way your voice softens. “So… if this whole thing is an act, why do I keep feeling like you actually care?”

You mentally hit yourself. That isn’t what you meant to say—and it’s certainly not what you would say in front of Taesan.

Though, it’s out before you can stop yourself. The words hang in the air, heavy and uncertain.

Taesan freezes, his eyes widening with a vulnerability for a fraction of a second. Then, just as quickly as it came, his guard comes back up. “Like we’ve discussed before, it’s an act. Nothing more.”

His voice is stern and plain, and his expression is stoic, but you catch the tremble in his hand as he’s fiddling with his fork. 

That, somehow, doesn’t sit right with you. 

You learn forward, the pendant swinging against your décolletage, your expression more serious now. “Then why do you care so much?”

You watch him closely, catching the tightening in his jaw and the way his hand proceeds to rest on the table, fingers anxiously tapping against the wood. Taesan doesn’t answer immediately, and instead, he looks away to drift his gaze to the window.

Your chest suddenly tightens. He’s acting like this is nothing, but you certainly feel it—the crack in the walls you’ve both constructed carefully against each other. It’s a tug at the back of your mind, a repeating whisper you’ve been trying so hard to push away.

And yet, the silence between you feels louder than ever.

Minutes pass by and the silence gets louder and louder. You’re lost in your own thoughts—realising just how much you’re affected by Taesan; just how much more you’re feeling than you want to admit. In the silence, you’re wondering, are you just imagining all this? Maybe it’s just you, maybe it’s the fact that you’re finding something more from this fake relationship you have with Taesan, your nemesis. 

Though, there’s something that you can’t deny: the fact that your chest tightens with fluttering butterflies every time he gets too close, every time his words shift to something softer than usual, it’s something that makes your heart trip in your chest.

“Y/N,” Taesan calls, his voice softer than anticipated, and you’re pulled out of your train of thought. You look at him slowly, uncertain and afraid of what’s to come. He pauses, as if he’s unsure of what to say next. “What if… I told you I’m not sure if I can pretend much longer?” 

His gaze finally meets yours, and for a moment, there’s no mask—just the raw sincerity in his eyes.

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You open your mouth, trying to say something—but nothing comes out. The evident truth in his words hits you like an ocean wave on a sunny day, and you can’t help but feel something is shifting between you both.

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THE next few weeks pass by like a ridiculously large time-skip in a movie. You’re doing things like you usually do—attend classes, do mootings, send in assignments, study for exams. Though, there’s one big thing in your life that you can’t ignore—Taesan, your fake-dating arrangement, and the lingering, unspoken tension between the two of you. The first week after the coffee shop episode, you couldn’t sleep even a wink—your mind kept on replaying the scenes over and over again, the way you caught Taesan’s guard almost falling down. You’re sure you felt it too, the cracks in the walls you’ve built against him—even for a short moment. 

At school, you’re hyper aware and extra distracted by Taesan. He’s doing his part of the agreement well, acting like he agreed he would. Every glance from him feels like a load of unspoken words, and the air between you two feels heavy. Every day you ponder, unsure of what to do with the new, fragile tension that’s settled between you and Taesan.

Today is the same—everything passes in a blur of lectures, assignments, and studying. You drag your heavy footsteps out of the room, your head spinning at the thought of the many assignments waiting for you. You look up, and the moment you step into the hallway, you see Taesan leaning against the wall, phone in hand, looking as calm as ever. 

You walk near him, and your eyes meet—you see a flicker of something there—a tension, a question neither of you have the answer to. 

“Y/N,” Taesan greets you with a casual, unreadable smile. You pause in your steps, turning to face him.

“Hi,” you reply quite timidly. You’re trying to sound casual, but you can hear the slight hitch in your voice. There’s no pretending this isn’t different now. There’s no pretending you didn’t almost cross a line last time. 

Taesan takes a final glance at his phone before shoving it into his pocket. “Still pretending this is just an act?” he asks, his voice surprisingly soft but laced with something familiar, almost teasing.

You pause, your breath stuck in your throat. Your heart, yet again, skips a beat, and you try to brush it off by laughing nervously. “Me? Pretending? I’m not pretending,” you say, and it’s directed more towards yourself than to him.

You’re not sure who’s trying to convince who anymore.

Taesan looks taken aback. He blinks profusely before putting his usual, calm expression back on. “Yeah,” he whispers, nodding, “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

You watch him walk away, heart twisting in the weirdest way. 

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

DONGMIN hates the way everything is now. Why can’t he just tell you everything? Why can’t he just tell you that he isn’t pretending, that he actually cares?

He wants to stop everything–going back to shoving insults at your face might be the safest option of them all. Yet, Dongmin finds himself caring for you in the little ways—wrapping his scarf around your neck, adjusting the placement of your bangs with a simple ruffle, placing a tin of coffee and bread in front of you whenever you seem exhausted with studying, sliding post-its to you with his handwriting reminding you to take breaks when needed. He still finds his heart racing upon seeing you; the way your lips pout when you’re deep in thought, the way you smile and laugh so adorably upon hearing a funny joke from your friends, the way you’re still so cute even when frustrated. 

As he walks away, Dongmin fights with his own heart. Why was he acting like this? It’s so clear that you’re expecting something more, but why is he pushing you away? 

Dongmin takes a deep breath. Yeah, he’s scared. He’s afraid that maybe it’s all in his head, maybe you’re the one acting so well and it’s just gotten to him. 

Dongmin swears to get himself together, but it looks like he’s going to need more than just mental affirmations. 

The next day, he misses his alarm, for the first time in forever, and is running late to his 9 AM lecture. He’s speed walking through students, dodging them with a bag hanging on one shoulder and his hair still partially wet. Just as he’s about to near the entrance of the Law building, he hears raised voices nearby. He puts his hood up, his first instinct is to ignore it all—he’s got no time to eavesdrop on people’s business. However, he recognises one of the two quarrelling voices—yours. 

Dongmin’s steps come to a halt, and he turns to face you. His eyes slightly widen and his shoulders begin to tense as he sees you and Anton standing a few feet away, locked in an argument. He’s a bit too far away to hear the full conversation, yet he catches some bits of it.

You’re standing at your full height, stiffly in front of Anton, arms crossed and eyes blazing with fury. Anton, on the opposite side of you, no longer has that sickening, innocent smile—instead, he’s flashing you a mocking smirk. 

The argument is already reaching its peak, yet Dongmin is quick to analyse the situation just by picking up a few bits. 

“You think you’re really something, don’t you?” Anton taunts.

You scoff. Dongmin could tell you’re offended, yet the mask you put on really makes a difference. “At least I don’t have to put other people down to feel important.”

Anton scoffs back, “please. You act like you’re above all this, but you’re just as desperate for attention as everyone else.”

Dongmin clenches his jaw, watching the argument unfold as his fingers begin to twitch. 

You give Anton a mocking laugh, stepping forward. “I don’t care what you think, Anton Lee. I don’t care if you think I don’t love Taesan, because what matters is my own feelings, not yours. And I’m done wasting my time on you.”

Before you could turn away and enter the building, Anton grabs your wrist. 

It’s not aggressive, but it’s enough. Enough to make Dongmin see red.

Everything’s a blur—one second later, he’s towering in front of Anton, his eyes glaring daggers. 

“Let her go,” his voice is low and threatening, as sharp as a blade. 

Anton looks up, initially startled, but as soon as he sees Dongmin, he rolls his eyes. His hand still around your wrist, he says with a sneer, “look who’s here, Y/N’s knight in shining armour! Oh, so great, always the hero.”

Dongmin is too busy counting down the ways he could destroy Anton’s life to be noticing how immediate the warmth creeps up your cheeks. Dongmin, in one fluid motion, steps closer, standing between you and Anton. 

“Did you hear me?” his voice drops deadly lower than before, his posture relaxed yet his eyes are dangerous. “Let. Go.”

Anton huffs, roughly letting go of your hand. He shakes his head. “You two are seriously something else,” he mutters before storming away. 

You and Dongmin stand next to each other, cautiously eyeing Anton until he disappears from sight. For that moment, none of you say anything.

“What was that for?” you say suddenly, crossing your arms. “I didn’t need you to step in.”

Dongmin shoves his hood down to his neck, raising his eyebrow. Feeling slightly irritated, he scorns. “Yeah? Looked like you were having a great time.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, but something pinches Dongmin’s heart as he notices there’s no real bite behind it. “I’m fine—I had it all handled.”

Silence. 

Dongmin exhales sharply, words shooting out of his mouth without second thought. “I know. It’s just–” 

He stops, his eyes landing on your wrist. Closes his mouth. 

You wait for a few moments, before warily asking. “What? Just what?”

Dongmin hesitates. Suddenly, it’s all he can push out of his throat. He’s already there, halfway crossing the line he’s put between you and him for the past two years. 

And then, it just… slips out. 

“I just can’t stand it, okay?”

Your frown deepens, confused. “Stand… what?”

Dongmin lets out a frustrated breath, turning sharply to completely face you. “I can’t stand seeing you with people like that fucking bastard. I can’t stand watching you get into these stupid situations. And I really, really can’t stand how much I—”

His eyes widen, and his words stumble upon a stop. Dongmin stammers, realising what he was just about to say. 

“Taesan,” you call, gently, hope suddenly shimmering in your eyes. “How much you what?”

Dongmin freezes. He’s silent, tongue frozen, unable to utter another word.

He can’t say it. 

Instead, he runs a hand through his hair, muttering curses under his breath. 

“You know what?” 

“Taesan–”

“Next time,” he says quickly, in a softer voice, “don’t… waste your time on a guy like him.”

Your eye contact is still intact, you open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. Your eyes widen for a split second—as if you’re catching on to the feelings displayed, unknowingly, on Dongmin’s face. 

His concern is real.

“W-we should go,” you stammer instead, gesturing to the Law building. 

Dongmin nods. He grabs your backpack from you, signalling for you to walk in first. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

You force yourself to walk as swiftly as possible to the lecture hall, heart pounding, mind racing. Behind you, Dongmin’s entire body is tense. He’s finally realising he can’t keep his feelings for you hidden forever.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THE next day, you can’t stop thinking about Taesan—and whatever he was about to say to you. Your mind races with a million different thoughts throughout the day. What if he actually feels the same? What if you’re not the only one looking for something more in this fake arrangement?

However, given that exams are looming closer, you’re only given a short amount of time to dwell on your thoughts. After your last class of the day, you find yourself cooped up in the library, studying the rest of the day away. Several of your friends join you, too. 

The study group grows, joined by both your friends and Taesan’s—though, you didn’t even realise that Taesan is sitting across you the entire day, until everyone starts leaving one by one. 

By midnight, it’s only you and him. You don’t look up, but you can feel your heart thumping faster than usual. You’re hyper aware of your surroundings—how close he is, how his scent feels comforting yet intimidating, and how his presence is reminding you of something that you’re too afraid to admit. 

“Y/N,” you open your eyes to someone gently shaking your shoulder, the reality of things crashing onto you all at once. You lift your head up, realising that you fell asleep in the middle of reviewing a past paper. Your eyes meet with Taesan’s concerned gaze. 

His voice is low and soft, as if it’s only for you. “Let’s take a break. You’ve been snoozing off way too many times.”

Your heart is beating a little faster than usual, but you agree. Taesan’s request seems too casual, and he looks like he needs a break too. 

You follow his lead, walking a little bit behind him to the convenience store that’s still open in campus grounds. He’s silent, observing you and letting you pick anything you want before paying for both your things and his. 

“Go sit,” he says, holding your instant tteokbokki package in hand, along with his instant noodles. “I’ll heat these up.”

Taesan quickly moves to the microwave before you can say anything in retaliation, a sign that you take seriously. He’s not in the mood for any fights. 

You take a seat, and soon after, Taesan joins you. He puts your instant meal in front of you, breaking your chopsticks for you. 

“Here,” he says, his voice quiet. “Careful, the tteok is still hot.”

He then slips his coat around you before turning back to his own beverages. 

You find yourself staring at him, long after he’s handed you your things. You watch him, peacefully releasing his tension—running a hand through his hair, chugging down a cup of coffee. 

Everything around you looks like it has a blurred filter on, yet one thing is crystal clear: Taesan, and his evident care for you. The longer you stare at him, the more you realise.

He’s always been the one. He’s always been there. 

It hits you harder than any bad grade has ever done. 

Taesan has always been like this—quietly looking out for you, quietly caring for you. 

All this while, all the banter, the little arguments, moments, and glances—it’s not just rivalry. It’s not just the fact that he always finds a way to make you all grumbly and irritated. It’s not just the fact that, even back when you were with Anton, he’d always find a way to show his care for you. 

It’s not just the fact that you enjoy his company, even if he makes you feel like you want to bang your head against the wall. 

You like him. 

You like Han Taesan. 

You quickly turn your head away, blood rushing to your head as soon as the realisation hits you. You stuff a few bites of instant tteokbokki into your mouth, wanting to quickly get rid of whatever this warm, refreshing feeling is. 

“Can you stop looking at me like that, L/N?” 

You cough, shocked at how his sudden comment breaks through the almost comforting silence. All the past moments you’ve had with him—the banter, the insults, the arguments—run through your head as soon as your last name, what Taesan had always called you, reaches your ears.

“Like what?” emboldened by the awakening of your feelings, you retort, your tone more challenging than you intended. 

Taesan snaps, pushing his chair back, raking a frustrated hand through his hair. 

“Like I’m your fucking boyfriend.”

“What?” you’re confused, not expecting that out of his mouth. “What are you–”

“Like you’re waiting for me to say something that I know I can’t take back.”

“Say it, then.”

You say, challenging him. It feels sentimental—like the old days, where all you did when you met Taesan was throw taunting words at him. But at the same time, the words come out of your mouth without realising—daring the two of you to finally cross the line. 

“I like you, okay? I probably love you at this point, I don’t know. I don’t know when it started, but I do. And I—” He exhales sharply, his voice softer. “I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t.”

The world stops spinning and you stare at him, blank. 

Your tongue feels numb, your heart racing at a million miles per hour. 

You feel the same, you’re sure, but you don’t know how to respond. Do you smile and say it back? Do you tease him, calling him an idiot like you always do? 

“I didn’t mean to fall for you,” you catch Taesan muttering. 

You smile. “Me too,” you say softly. 

Taesan lifts his head immediately, sharply turning to you with widened eyes. “... pardon?”

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THE next few days feel like a refreshing spring breeze in the peak of winter, yet the air is filled with a cute awkwardness. After the confession, neither of you explicitly announce to one another that the two of you are a real couple now—yet your interactions feel new and unscripted, but no one exactly is making the first move. 

Of course, your friends notice before the two of you do. 

You’re sitting at the food hall together with Yunjin and Sophia, eating breakfast. You’re halfway through your pancakes, and Taesan—or Dongmin, as you call him now—suddenly takes a seat next to you. 

“Mind if I join, girls?” he asks, a charming grin on his face. He’s asking the table, yet his gaze is directed to you. You bite your lip shyly, nodding.  

“Sure, make yourself at home,” Yunjin says, her words laced with teasing. She watches with eagle eyes as Dongmin puts all of the sliced bananas from his serving of pancakes onto yours, knowing that you especially enjoy them with your breakfast pancakes. She snorts at the obvious look of love in Dongmin’s eyes, more evident now that he isn’t shoving insults at your face. “So, you two are really dating now?”

You choke on your bite of pancake, immediately blurting out,

“No!”

“Yes.”

You sharply turn to Dongmin, who has a smug look on his face. It’s the one look on his face that you’re used to, yet there’s a tint of pink on his cheeks. The edge of his smirk twitches, threatening to form into a cute, lovesick smile. 

“...I see,” Sophia interrupts your awkward eye contact, sighing dramatically. 

“We’re dating?” you ask Dongmin acutely, your brows connecting in an embarrassed frown. 

“I don’t know,” Dongmin shrugs casually, the look in his eyes teasing. “Are we?”

The blush that instantly creeps up your cheeks tells you the answer. You look away, suddenly focused on the way you’re cutting your pancakes. Dongmin’s laugh echoes to your left, and your friends’ send you teasing looks. 

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

A few months later, on the first week back after winter break, you go on a walk around campus with your boyfriend, Han Dongmin. It feels weird, calling him yours now. Just almost half a year ago, you were fighting your ego to have your nemesis fake-date you in order to intimidate your ex into leaving you and your life alone. Now, that same thorn in your side has become the light of your life, the apple of your eye. Now, the two of you are in something that’s not written on a flimsy contract.

Dongmin had also helped clear out the rumours surrounding you—in the most annoying, Han Taesan way—announcing the truth about Anton by spreading it like a rumour to everyone. You still get second-hand embarrassment remembering that day, bombarded by questions and apologies from acquaintances and people you’ve only seen around. 

“You know,” you say dreamily, distracted by your train of thought, “you’re so annoying—but I love you.”

Dongmin freezes, his steps coming to an immediate halt. You, too, freeze in your steps as you realise you’re a few steps ahead of him now. You turn around, eyebrows perked up. “What’s wrong, Dongmin?”

Dongmin. 

The sound of your voice calling his birth name repeats in his mind, like a favourite song on loop. He stares, unable to say anything. His eyes fall on the pendant dangling from your neck, one that you started wearing due to the fake-dating arrangement. He remembered insisting that you take it off, so that he can buy you a new one later, but you said that it’s special so you won’t take it off. 

I love you. 

Dongmin feels a smile slowly bloom on his face. 

She said it. She didn’t even hesitate. It’s like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

His face softens, jogging up to you. He gives you a cheeky smile. 

“Say that again.”

You frown. “What again?”

“The first part.”

“What–” you pause, eyes widening as you get what he’s talking about. Heat rushes up your cheeks, warming your face despite Dongmin’s scarf wrapped around it. “I–”

“Yeah,” Dongmin says, smirking as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Me too.”

You bury yourself into the familiar scent of Dongmin’s scarf as he kisses your cheek. 

“Fuck you, Han Dongmin,” you grumble, ignoring the obvious butterflies in your stomach. 

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THAT weekend, you and Dongmin are eating lunch together at your favourite coffee shop. Dongmin had said that the vibes there makes him sleepy, and tried to bring you to eat at one of the more famous restaurants near the KOZ School of Engineering, yet the plan backfires on him when the line is certainly too long. 

Now, the two of you are back at your favourite coffee shop, sipping warm cinnamon lattes. 

“See?” you tease, smiling cheekily. “I told you this place is the best.”

Dongmin rolls his eyes, taking a big spoonful of the chocolate cinnamon roll on your plate. “I want to eat some real food, like kimchi jjigae, not these sweet chocolate desserts,” he complains, though he can’t hide the fact that he secretly loves it. 

“Yet you’re the one finishing my cinnamon roll,” you retort, letting him subconsciously finish your dessert. You’re familiar with his love for chocolate.

Dongmin flashes you an innocent smile, shrugging. “Not my fault.”

Comfortable silence engulfs the two of you, letting you bask in each other’s presence. Suddenly, Dongmin leans closer, adjusting the place of the H.D pendant on your décolletage. Frozen, you watch him lean back into his seat, smiling as he admires you. 

“You look good today,” he murmurs, “actually, you look good everyday.”

An undeniable tint of pink colours your face. “I’m literally wearing a black turtleneck sweater, Dongmin.”

His gaze softens. “Like the first time you sat next to me, three years ago, during our foundation year.”

Your eyes widen, your mind replaying the memory, fresh like it happened yesterday. “You… remember?” 

“Of course,” Dongmin replies, his smile delicate. 

“I even remember the day you walked up to me, confident and all. I thought you were going to brag to my face that you won first place for the quiz we had the day before, but then you told me to fake date you.”

You almost spit out the coffee from your mouth. “Han Dongmin!” you hiss. “Don’t remind me… it was so stupid.”

“Stupid?” Dongmin asks, tilting his head. The signature cocky smirk is back on his face. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah…” you sigh, “I mean, I could’ve resolved the matter by myself, you know–”

“But you know that I’m the best option,” Dongmin cuts you off, smug. You roll your eyes.

“I don’t think it’s stupid, though,” he continues, his expression softer. More… raw. “To be honest, I think I was ecstatic that you walked up to me that day.”

“Why?” you ask croakily. 

“‘Cause I’ve always liked you, Y/N. I always have. I just don’t understand where things went wrong—maybe it’s the way I thought teasing you would gain me your attention at first. It did. But then, you became used to my teasing and thought of me as a threat—maybe ‘cause I’m smart as hell, too—but yeah. I don’t know how to say it but, all of that hatred was… pretend.”

You blink at him, too shocked to process his words. You try to reply, but mere stuttering comes out, and your face turns bright red. 

Dongmin notices this, of course, and he turns on his shameless, impudent grin. “Besides, you said you’re going to grant me any wish that I have, right?”

Oh. 

You inhale sharply. How could you forget? You immediately bring out your phone, checking the balance in your bank account. It’s quite a luxury, due to you working a few part time jobs during your break and whenever you can—but you certainly don’t think it’s fit for whatever grand wish Dongmin is about to demand from you. 

“Fine,” you huff, “only because it’s part of our… old contract.”

“Old contract, huh?” Dongmin wheezes, already laughing hard. You frown, fighting back a smile. 

“Why are you always laughing whenever I speak, dumbass?”

“Hey,” Dongmin pauses his laughter, flicking your forehead gently. It doesn’t even hurt, but you gasp dramatically, and he laughs it off. “It’s babe for you, sweet girl. And, I’m not laughing at you. I’m just admiring how cute and funny you are.”

Babe, huh?

You snort, hiding a smile. “Fine.”

“Anyway, speaking of the old contract,” Dongmin grins, “what’s the new one, then?”

“You haven’t even told me what sort of dumb, overpriced thing you want for your wish,” you say, lips set in a grim line. “And now you want another one?”

“My wish, huh?”

The unreadable look on his face makes you brace yourself and your wallet.

“Then, my darling, this is my wish.”

Dongmin leans forward, brushing his lips against yours. It’s subtle, short and sweet, but significant enough for you to realise it all—the reality of your feelings and his. He lingers for a while before sitting back in his chair. 

“So,” he says coolly, ignoring the plain blush streaked across his face. “Can you grant me the wish? To kiss you anytime, and anywhere I want?”

“Basically, physical affection can be done anytime?” you say, quoting what this man in front of you said months ago, when both of you first agreed on the fake-dating situation. The whole absurd set-up that brought the two of you to where you are, today. 

Dongmin laughs, clearly impressed. “Yeah,” he nods. 

You give him a warm smile, glad that you’re finally able to follow your heart’s desires, and to not put up a wall of defense around him anymore. 

“Wish granted.”

― © htaesan, 2025.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

[proud-cloud]

Three Cheers for sweet revenge plot song by song according to me

My credentials are that uhmm ive listened to this album like weekly since i was like 12 and uhm im taking english A-Level (crime and tragedy) sooooo

Full disclaimer i could do a line by line analysis on pretty much all of these songs but then this would be stupidly long so im just touching on the points or lyrics i think are most important for the plot! Oh and i cant spell and im trieddd of writing academic essays so im kinda yapping ngl

HELENA

honestly i barely have anything to say here but i imagine its the demo woman’s funeral (yes ik its abt Gerard ways grandma but let me cook) kind of setting the tone and exploring his grief, creating the circumstances for his deal with the devil - especially in the bridge.

GIVE EM HELL KID

Ok so here!! Is where i start to have more to say!! So in my head the man (im just gonna call them tje man and the woman or like he/she from here on) has accepted the deal with satan to kill 1000 evil men and is basically on a killing spree? So from my immense medical knowledge of watching house im preity sure epidrene is a steroid, which like gives him energy (interestingly ive been on them a few times for asthma and they have a long list of mental side effects such as uhhh mania (fall out boy whooo) anxiety and depression which maybe foreshadows his sorta insanity towards the end as his guilt haunts him) acting as a symbol of his immense motivation to see his wife again, so verse one especially is before his downfall where hes like yippee killing people to see my wife again!! The chorus i imagine is sang by both him and the woman in heaven as they both long for each other uhm and later on in the song it does seem as if hes begining to kind of loose it a bit due to his grief? kind of foreshadowing his well everything later on in the album. In the bridge i imagine hes kind of mocking their teenage selves (linking to im not okay later on) especially in the line “we are young and we dont care” criticicing their hopefullness by comparing it to their current circumstance - ironic as it only gets worse from here.

TO THE END

Now i know this is based on a rose for emily (i tried to read it and there were a LOT of slurs from what i remeber so that was yeah) but for the sake of my silly little narrative were kinda just not gonna touch on that. So here i believe the man has been set to kill this couple, just to find the wife has killed her husband (with the “cyanide you drank” i assume) which drives him into a sort of crisis, questioning if this was what would have happened to him and his wife if she had lived and they had stayed married for this long (fueling his sexuality crisis in prison). I could go so much further into this, especially language wise but for the sake of everyones sanity ill leave it here :)

YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DO TO GUYS LIKE US IN PRISION

so hes literally in the middle of a gunfight in the centre of a resturant and the police come and theyre like come with ur arms raised high and ok so!!! Theres many people who could explain this better than me but the man gets arrested for killing all these people and gets sent to jailllll. Ive heard some people talk about it as an allegory for SA in prison and others who talk abt it as him realising his gay/bi ect and honestly i can see both. I really like the line “too much to late or just not enough of this, pain in my heart for your dying wish, i kiss your lips again!” Which, running with the latter intrepretation, suggests hes feeling regret for all the murdering hes done and is questioning if he ever did love his wife this much, and if he should move on and fix his mistakes. So to make a long story short he has a sexuality crisis in prision! Toward the end, he escapes prision and with his “friends” from jail, lilely from setting it on “fire” (i got the friends bit from the lyric “but ill go down with my friends”) escaping jail but at the cost of further loosing his sanity and grasp on morality.

IM NOT OKAY (I PROMISE)

for conveniences sake he either gets knocked out (the giggles at the end of prision i guess beinf from a concussion or something?) or just like goes to sleep somehwhere after the prison break with the other ex inmates and has a flashback to his time in high school, when he fell in love with his wife. As an audienve were kinds like dude she did not like you back then calm down which makes us question the morality of his mission, but for him it reminds him of what hes fighting for and erases the doubt he had in their love in to the end and prison. I will say im kinda pidgenholing this in with the flashback but uhm yeah!

THE GHOST OF YOU

This song acts as a continuation of his grief, back in the present day after im not okay made him remember what he was doing this all for. This basically confirms his belief that killing all these people is right because he needs to see her again. He battles with his morality knowing that she should be “never coming home” cause shes dead but then considering the deal with satan and its morality asking himself “could i? Should i?”. Towards the end, it seems like he decides killing the men to bring her back is the right thing to do. the line “If i fall, down” seems to show his commitment to her regardless of morality, hes willing to ‘fall down’ to hell if it means he gets more time with her which is ironic as he later does go to hell, but never gets to see her again.

THE JETSET LIFE IS GONNA KILL YOU

and hes back to killing again!! I think “her killing jar” is a metaphor for his fixation on his wife and the things its driving him to do. Hes trapped as if he was in a jar by the deal he made with satan for her. Its kind of difficult to explain but essentially hes assuring himself that hes doing it all for her and its all worth it as his sanity slowly dissipates, which i believe is demonstrated through the lyric “pull the plug” kinda symbolising hes giving up on himself and dedicating everything to her. Now this is obviously unhealthily obsessive and is the point where we definately start to question if what hes doing is right - is he not essentially playing god now? Should one man act as judge, jury and executioner?

INTERLUDE

ok its literally just the interlude but here i beleive he is praying for god, the “saints”, to “protect” his wife in heaven further showing his like motive? For all of his murders - his love for her however dangerously codependant.

THANK YOU FOR THE VENOM

HE KILLS MORE PEOPLE 🔥🔥 its almost like he has to kill 1000 evil men damn. BUT now hes starting to loose his grip on reality and is killing innocent people. I like to think he goes to the church he married his wife in and starts killing people - hence the line “sister im not much a poet but a criminal” - hes changed completely from the man he once was. They try to convince him to like stop saying its not what his wife would have wanted but he does not listen - in the lyric “preach all you want but whos gonna save me” - and continues to spiral into a life of crime and implied addiction (when in the chorus he says “give me all your posion and give me all your pills”)

HANG EM HIGH

THIS!! This is the one i can never fully figure out despite it being so good 🙏🙏 it feels like a cop out to say he suddenly becomes a cowboy or idk has to kill a cowboy but any other way i can interpret it is just the same old back to mourning his wife and dedicating his life to her so uhm yeah take any of those 3 or your own and run with it (please tell me if you know how to make this fit better than me)

ITS NOT A FASHION STATEMENT ITS A FUCKING DEATHWISH

Hes now so deep into his mission he cant quit despite the regret he feels. This kind of links back to his mocking of their younger selves in give em hell through the lyric “do you remeber back there when we met you told me this gets harder, well it did!”. Hes kind of pondering how his life got this bad wishing it didnt have to be this way. however he believes they will soon be reunited - evidenced through lines such as “im coming back from the dead” and the repeated references to resserection and him finding his wife, “your running out of places, to hide from me”. At the end, he says “i lost my fear of falling, i will be with you”, further showing he thinks he will soon see his wife again and simmilarly to the ghost of you shows hes willing to sacrafice his soul just to see her again

CEMETERY DRIVE

trust me the fake music video in my head for this goes HARD. So he visits the cemetary where his wife is buried to kinda tell her in a way? That hes almost finished and he’ll see her soon. And in my like the cool cinemetic imaganary music video he dances with her ghost but uhm plot wise hes kinda lamenting how much he misses here as the chorus goes “i miss you, so far”. Now theres some confusion as to how she died as here it says “and they found you on the bathroom floor” but in i never told you it says “they gave us two shots to the back of the head” so i imagine he got caught up in some like bad stuff and they killed her in their home - the bathroom - which does add some depth to his grief as he feels responsable for her death hence why he wants to bring her back so bad. His dedication to her is reinforced through the lyric “so i wont stop lying wont stop dying” which as ive said a lottt shows his like questionably large levels of motivation in this mission from satan. The repetition of “way down” at the end foreshadows the twist in the next song - that he's going to hell - and this idea has been building up throughout the narrative but its reaching its peak now and we begin to see it as a serious possibility considering the innocent people he has killed alongside the guilty ones.

I NEVER TOLD YOU WHAT I DO FOR A LIVING

Aaaaand im realising ive made it all the way through this without even having to check the tracklist which shows that i lack a life! But anyways this song communicates the concept so well and i genuienly could line by line delve into it but for the sake of conciceness as i have been i will just cover the basic concept

OK SO! Hes metholodically getting through this list (im inferring he has a list from the line “i keep a book of the names”) kind of rushing through them, seen through the fast pace of the first verse, in my head it resembles a video montage of the murder of multiple people off of the list. This is further evidenced through the lyric “another knife in my hands” showing this has somehow become his everyday life as hes become so detached from normalicy in his grief. NOW NOW NOW the lyric “a stain that never comes off the sheets” is an allusion to lady Macbeth (I FREAKING LOVE SHAKESPEARE) (im a hamlet girl tho honestly) where she couldnt wash the blood off of her hands which is a common literary symbol for guilt showing his mission has taken a massive toll on him mentally if we did not already realise this. “It aint the money and it sure as hell aint just for the fame” implies he does not enjoy killing these people despite the fact hes killed probably over a thousand people which againnnn shows his dedication to his wife. Now i know ive said that about a billion times but thats important to consider when we take into account that he does not get to see her again - everything he did was essentially worthless, in fact if anything everything he did just sealed his fate. Therefore, if we view him as a tragic hero (i can go so much more into this but thats for another day) then his hamartia is his love for her, his loyalty which kinda gave him tunnel vision meaning he could not see the flaws his plan and the way he was being exploited by satan.

now theres so much symbolism in the lyrics i could discuss (I LOVE THIS SONG) but i will refrain and kinda skip forward to the bridge/the end. I like to think he turns the last page in his book of names to just see his own name and then begins to spiral - this is where the song goes “and we all fall down”. Im preitty sure gerard ways like screams say “i tried” which like furthers this breakdown as he comes to understand all the wrong he has done and his inevatatable damnation. After a large moral debate he thinks it would have been better if they were both killed together originally “never again / they gave us two shots to the back of the head” and he shoots himself in the hope he will eventually be with her in the afterlife, and if not then a life without her is not a life worth living anyways. It ends with the lyric “were all dead now” (which they are) which reminds me of the rhyme/ game from when i was a kid ring a rosies (which i swear is about the plauge) and how that ends by saying “we all fall down” kinda showing the corruption he brought into the world and that everything must come to an end. This is typical of a tragic hero - his anagorisis (realisation of his flaw / mistake) and then his death - which is why i personally do veiw this album as mostly conforming to troupes of traditional greek tragedy :).

aaaaand thats it!! I dont count bury me in black or desert song as part of the album plot uhhh if anyone else does id love to hear how that sounds so cool but yeah!!! Oh and sorry again for any typos and spelling errors i cannot spell for the life of me uhmm this could be so incoherent for all i know (if so sorry!!) but i hope not 😛

lmk if you’d actualy wanna hear the full yap poetry annotation style for a song cause i love nothing more if not talking i might do the same for danger days if i feel like it so watch out 🔥🔥

[pruneunfair]

Roasting OI leads, Part 1: Remarried empress.

Heinrey, if you don't get your "woe is me." Ass outta here-

Fuck outta here with your "UwU, I wuv my wife." bullshit, your a grown ass man, he LITERALLY turns into her pet bird. He really thinks he's cute when he does it, thinks it's cute to have the reputation of a womanizer for no concrete reason but hey! It was actually ERGI pretending to be Heinrey so it's TOTALLY fine. Yeah, I bet those women who had no clue they were essentially being assaulted via deception were REALLY happy about the fact you weren't a real womanizer.

Mother fucker you are the emperor of a landlocked country and your goofy ass is making everyone your enemy when you don't even have direct access to an OCEAN.

Your actions are the damn REASON your wife is being hunted down, your dumbass made enemies with another important noble house, you could've ended when you imprisoned Krista (I really do believe he straight up killed her and made it look like a suicide) but no, you had to make the grand Duke essentially let his daughter get hanged because otherwise you would have went after the GRANDKIDS!

And that's not even mentioning he fed the old Duke the remains of his son!

Serves him his own son and has the audacity to act all sad and depressed when he is told that not even hell wants his wacky ass.

If it isn't being known as a tyrant, it will be you being known as a fucking idiot who ruled based on your wifes happiness as seld justification to help you sleep at night.

Yeah I'm sure the wife that was killed and the children's that got sold to slavery had a lot to do with one guy trying assassinate Navier.

This bro really acting like he such a misunderstood man who just wanted to protect his pregnant wife, while selling CHILDREN into slavery. If those kids grow up and end up as Rashtas, I better not see Navier or Heinrey complaining when they come back for revenge.

By the way? You straight up organized this with your weird ass "I like em 16 and magical" friend Ergi.

Just know that Heinrey was willing to help lead a young mother to insanity so Navier wouldn't have to face criticism. Did the writers not realize they were calling themselves out or was this left by the manhea translators who agreed that Heinrey is full of shit.

This you?

"I don't want to lie to you." And then he proceeds to hide the fact that he was stealing magic for over 100 chapters and would've kept the act up if she didn't find out for herself. "I no wanna go to war cause wuv you mah queen cute 😢" and Just like Sovieshu defending Rashta when she acts cute for him, Navier doesn't seem to really care.

Speaking of Navier.

Don't think you're safe girl!

Navier, honey, sweetie, I usually give you the benefit of the doubt since you are far from the most evil person here, but you don't get call yourself a fair Empress while condoning your husbands shit just because he's open about it.

Hell.. I don't think her description can even say she's kind to all her subjects when A: Out of all the mages who got their magic back, Evalie is the only one since she's clearly the favorite out of all the poor kids and B: She clearly doesn't give a fuck about slavery. Like this isn't just a case where she dislikes it but can't change the law, no. She outright doesn't give a shit and sees slavery as a mere afterthought.

Peep her reactions when she learns Rashta is a slave.

She. Doesn't. Care

I know you didn't think we wouldn't notice you making friends with a slave owner out of spite for the slave that got on your nerves. (Well actually almost no one noticed)

Navier, You have every right to be pissed that your husband is humiliating and verbally abusing you.

But even if you supported the confederacy with all your heart, you should still know that Rashta, as a slave, CAN'T SAY NO to the EMPEROR. Hell even if she were a commoner she couldn't say no.

This the same woman acting like it was unfair that Landre almost got executed with no trial BTW. Lande, who stabbed Rashta while she was pregnant because she spread some rumors about Duchess Leonardo Dicaprio. Sure he didn't know she was pregnant but he still attempted to kill someone, he brought that knife with him, that was premeditated.

but I guess trials for someone to be proven innocent or guilty sure don't matter when it comes to the people affiliated with your enemies.

[shybluebirdninja]

Fury Roadtrip

Summary: Logan insists on being your road trip navigator, but his terrible sense of direction gets you both lost in the middle of nowhere with a very angry llama.

Pairing            : Logan Howlett x Gf!Reader

Note                : fluff

It all started with Logan’s damn confidence. He had that “I'm-always-right-even-when-I'm-wrong” swagger, and it was extra obnoxious when he was in the passenger seat.

“Babe, I’m tellin’ ya, you missed the turn back there.”

You glance at him, eyebrow raised. “Logan, we’re following the GPS. I’m literally doing exactly what it says.”

He crosses his arms, grunting. “GPS is full of shit. I know the backroads better than this piece of tech.”

You almost laugh but bite your lip. Logan, your Logan, who spent most of his life in the Canadian wilderness, was trying to tell you he had the lay of the land down in the middle of nowhere Arizona. Sure, the man had sharp instincts when it came to sniffing out danger, but his sense of direction? Absolute garbage.

“Okay, darling,” you say, dripping with sarcasm, “why don’t you tell me where we’re supposed to go, huh? Since you know these backroads so well.”

He cracks his knuckles, like he’s preparing for battle. “Take the next left.”

You squint at the road ahead, seeing nothing but desert stretching for miles. “Left where, exactly? The cactus? Or are we about to drive through some tumbleweeds?”

Logan doesn’t hesitate, just taps the window with a claw. “Left. Right here.”

You sigh but humor him. It’s Logan. You love the guy, claws and all. If he wants to play navigator, you’ll let him play. So, you make the turn. The moment the car veers off the asphalt, the tires hit sand. Great, now you're on some sketchy dirt road that isn't even on the GPS.

“This feels wrong,” you mutter, gripping the wheel tighter. “Really, really wrong.”

Logan chuckles like he knows better. “Trust me, babe. I’ve been around longer than this damn map.”

Right. You loved Logan, but sometimes you really wanted to strangle him. Five minutes go by, then ten. The road—if you could even call it that—narrows down to nothing but rocks and dust, and the car’s bouncing like it's about to break apart.

“Logan,” you hiss, glancing at him, “are you sure this isn’t, I don’t know, a wolverine death trap?”

He shrugs, looking out the window like this is all normal. “Relax, honey. Just a bit of off-roading.”

Then you hear it.

“Mrrrahhh!”

“What the hell was that?” you ask, wide-eyed.

Logan turns his head slowly, and through the window, standing on a rocky ridge, is a llama. A very angry llama. You don’t know why or how you know it’s pissed off, but you can tell from the way it’s glaring at your car like it’s about to throw hooves.

“Mrrrahhh!” It screeches again, taking a threatening step down the ridge.

“Logan,” you say, voice tight, “why is there a llama staring at us like it wants to fight?”

Logan, unfazed as ever, leans back in his seat. “Llama’s just mindin’ its business.”

“Mindin’ its business? It looks like it’s about to spit in my face!”

Before you can react, the llama starts to move—no, it starts charging down the slope, heading straight for the car. You slam your hand on the horn, but it only makes the llama angrier. It’s now full-on sprinting at you, and suddenly this road trip has turned into a showdown you didn’t sign up for.

“Logan!” you shout, eyes wide, panic setting in. “Do something! You’re the one who got us lost here with this demon llama!”

But Logan’s just staring at the thing with his usual nonchalance, like this happens to him every day. “It’s just a llama, babe. You’re actin’ like it’s a freakin’ Sabretooth.”

“Well, maybe it is a Sabretooth in disguise because it’s coming at us like it’s about to murder us!”

Logan grumbles, opening the car door and stepping out. “Fine, I’ll handle it.”

You watch, dumbfounded, as Logan walks toward the llama like it’s nothing. He stands there, arms crossed, waiting for the thing to get close. For a moment, you think he’s going to have some sort of epic standoff with this angry furball. You almost expect some Old Western music to play in the background.

“Mrrrahhh!” The llama slows down, huffing and puffing, clearly rethinking its life choices as it gets closer to Logan.

“See?” Logan says, turning back to you with a smirk. “Told ya. They back down once you show ‘em who’s boss.”

But just as those words leave his mouth, the llama spits. A giant, green glob of llama spit flies through the air, nailing Logan square in the face.

You lose it. You’re doubled over in the driver’s seat, laughing so hard you’re crying. “Oh my God, Logan! It just—” You can’t even finish your sentence, you’re laughing too hard. “It spit on you!”

Logan wipes his face, his eyes narrowing as he glares at the llama. “You son of a—”

“Told you!” you choke out between gasps, barely able to breathe. “I told you this was a bad idea!”

Logan stomps back to the car, furious, muttering curses under his breath. He slams the door and glares out the window, completely ignoring the fact that you’re still dying from laughter.

“Not. A. Word,” he growls, crossing his arms.

You manage to catch your breath and wipe your eyes, but the giggles still bubble up. “Oh, come on, babe. Admit it. Your sense of direction sucks.”

Logan just grunts. You, meanwhile, start the car, turning back onto the dirt road as you try to find a way out of the middle of nowhere.

“Next time,” you say, smirking, “I’m in charge of navigation.”

[odinsblog]

The federal government is the largest employer in the United States. It is the largest employer in every single state. But the federal government is no longer an “equal opportunity employer,” thanks to a series of executive orders and directives passed by the white-supremacist Trump administration that collectively allow for racial discrimination by claiming to eliminate racial discrimination against the poor, downtrodden white man—you know, the guy who’s never been able to get a fair shake in this country.

Trump signed the first of these orders, “Ending Radical and Wasteful Government DEI Programs and Preferencing,” within hours of taking the oath of office on Monday. The order describes diversity, equity, inclusion, and accessibility programs as “illegal and immoral discrimination” as well as sources of “immense public waste.” The well-known conceit here is that people who get their government jobs through DEI are not “deserving” of their positions, while every white man who works for the government is allegedly there on his “merits” and nothing more.

This conceit was made even more explicit with a second executive order called “Ending Illegal Discrimination and Restoring Merit-Based Opportunity.” This order proclaims: “These illegal DEI and DEIA policies also threaten the safety of American men, women, and children across the Nation by diminishing the importance of individual merit, aptitude, hard work, and determination when selecting people for jobs and services in key sectors of American society, including all levels of government, and the medical, aviation, and law-enforcement communities.” The fact that a twice-impeached convicted felon and fail-son king of bankruptcy is lecturing the country on individual “merit” and “aptitude” is a joke that can only be brought to us by white America.

DEI programs, of course, do not do what Trump imagines. If anything, the country is beset by mediocre white men who got their positions through an old-boys’ network of family, friends, connections, and frat buddies who now gum up and dumb down the system at every level. If you have the option of getting a Black doctor, for instance, I encourage you to take it. They’ve likely worked harder to get there, and a Black doctor’s seemingly preternatural ability to treat all patients with care and professionalism regardless of their race is apparently a very rare asset in the medical profession. If you want a doctor who sees your maladies before your skin color, always bet on Black.

But I digress. I’m not going to relitigate the utility of DEI programs here. That debate has raged, and a majority of white people, both men and women, decided to install a white supremacist president to defend the white male patriarchy. I will simply stipulate that mediocre white men need government jobs, and taking those jobs away from racial minorities and women makes the white guys feel better about themselves while they’re waiting for their mommies to wash their sheets before they head out to their little rallies.

All that said, it is more or less legal, and constitutional, to end DEI programs. I want to be very clear about that, because there is legal nuance here that often gets flattened when talking about them. DEI is just a policy, and while that policy is supported by the 14th Amendment (at least it was before MAGA took over the courts), it is not required by the 14th Amendment. The Constitution just wants whites with hiring authority to stop being racist assholes; it doesn’t care how they do it.

What is illegal and unconstitutional is discrimination against non-whites and women in hiring. And that’s the problem with the executive orders. They assume that every single person hired through a diversity program is undeserving of their position, that their qualifications are lesser and that their literal work ethic and talent are suspect. They treat people hired under these programs as if they’re one distinct class of people (apparently, we all look the same to the Trump administration), and instead of looking on a case-by-case basis at who was hired for “diversity” and who was hired simply because they were the best applicant for the job (which is often the exact same person), they cast the whole lot out. And, they effectively warn people not to hire anybody except white guys, because they suggest that anybody who isn’t might be a “diversity” hire which will trigger a lawsuit.

The memo on how to execute Trump’s order shutting down DEIA programs —which was issued by the Office of Personnel Management to all the heads of departments and agencies—illustrates the inherent discriminatory problems with these policies. One section of the memo, for instance, informs the agency heads that all employees of “DEIA offices” must be placed on administrative leave, immediately. But what defines a DEIA office? The memo doesn’t say. Instead, it says that some allegedly DEIA offices are “disguised” with “coded or imprecise language.”

What that means, effectively, is that anybody who is in a DEIA office or looks like they might be can immediately be placed on administrative leave without due process or any other legal determination. That is straight-up employment discrimination. The government itself is saying that it can’t say exactly who it’s going after, but it will know that person when it sees them. It creates two different classes of government employees: one group that the white supremacist government deems worthy, and another group that is deemed suspect, based on as little as an eye test.

(continue reading)

[bestiainfinita]

I had a discussion on Instagram about Eurylochus and wanted to share it here , the post where this conversation happened is irrelevant but it was about Eurylochus and the end of the Thunder Saga, anyways I made a comment and this guy’s responded:

Then I responded with this across some comments (I chose not to use screen caps for most of my things because they are a lot of comments and it might be over the limit of them, and I had the stuff I said saved):

Lol what are you in buddy???

First of all, since the start Eurylochus has had one objective in mind just like Odysseus, Eurylochus wanted to protect the crew and to get them home while Odysseus wanted to go home to be with his son and wife, that’s the main reason the diversion between Eury and Ody happened, because Ody cared more about getting home than about the crew, while Eury cared more about the crew than getting home.

In ‘Full Speed Ahead’ (Song 03) he tells Ody that they are out of food and they need to feed THE CREW so he asks the captain / king what they should do, because that’s is what he’s supposed to do, he proposes attacking and just taking the food because he wants to ensure food for the crew no matter what, this is also proveen in ‘Polyphemus’ (Song 06) when the first thing he says is “There are enough sheep here to feed the entire fleet” he was thinking about the crew again. Then in ‘Remeber Them’ (Song 09) he’s the one who ask “But captain, what do we do with our fallen friends?” because he CARES about the crew.

Also he not only cares about the crew but he cares about Odysseus too (he’s part of the crew but anyways), this is better shown in ‘Luck Runs Out’ (Song 11); “You could be caught off guard and lose your life” “I just don’t wanna see another life end” “You are like the brother I could never do without”.

Then in the same song (‘Luck Runs Out’) we understand why he opened the wind bag. He was afraid, he was afraid of the Gods and what they might do to him, Odysseus and the crew; “You could be caught off guard and lose your life” “Or piss off this God and infuse us with strife” “Don’t forget how dangerous the gods are”.

Now the Circe thing, y’all have very selective hearing and didn’t understood Eury at all, he is still afraid during this song (‘Puppeteer’ Song 14); he’s afraid of a Goddess, of Circe, he gave those men for dead because they were captured by a literal Goddess, and he is also afraid of what she might to to Odysseus and the rest of the crew if they try to face her; “Think about the men we have left before there’s none, let’s just cut our loses, you and I, and let’s run” “What if she can’t be killed!? — Will you chose to leave?”

By the way, I would like to point out that in this song (‘Puppeteer’) Odysseus says “There’s no length I wouldn’t go, if it was you I’d have to save, I can only hope you’ll do the same…” and Eurylochus responds by literally doing that, by trying to stop Odysseus from going into that suicidal mission, (let me remind y’all that the only reason Odysseus stood his ground against Circe was thanks to Deus Ex Hermes).

And another thing, some of you people like to say Eurylochus wanted Odysseus gone or blasphemy like that, then why didn’t he killed him in ‘Mutiny’ (Song 24), he had Odysseus stabbed and defenseless but he didn’t killed him, he and the crew just restrained him and treated all of his wounds, they didn’t want him dead, they just couldn’t trust him anymore and therefore couldn’t have him as his captain.

Then they said this (ignoring stuff I already talked about):

And finally I finished the conversation and responded with this:

1. I literally addressed the Circe situation in my previous comments, and explained how he gave those men for dead because to save them they would have had to fight a LITERAL GODDESS (remember they just lost 11 ships / more than 500 men to another God), and again, the only reason Ody won / was able to talk it through was thanks to Hermes’s intervention.

2. Again, I believe the treasure was a misdirection, and the real reason was fear, as I have explained before / in my previous comments.

3. If he wanted to forget what he did and act like nothing have happened, he wouldn't even have confessed in the first place, so it's obviously not about that.

4. That part was a metaphor, see how it is similar to 'Luck Runs Out' in the way that one was talking as a friend and the other as his title, in 'Luck Runs Out' Odysseus is the one talking as a friend while in 'Mutiny' Eurylochus is the one talking as a friend (we know because he called him "Ody" instead of "Captain"), so he was talking one on one and Odysseus was responding talking about himself about how HE wanted to go back to HIS kingdom HIS son and HIS wife ignoring what Eurylochus was saying to him as well as his concerns (like he did in ‘Luck Runs Out’), then the crew jumps in showing Odysseus that all of the crew thinks the same, that they are all tired, that they are all hurt, and that they are all hungry, something that Odysseus's own suffering has made him oblivious to, and now he tries to talk to the crew, to calm them and convince them, but he has already shown them that his priority is himself, so they ignore his pleading and try to give themselves comfort in the only way they currently can, try so solve the only problem they as mere men are able to, and so they killed the cattle to eat.

[ediesguidetoeverything]

advice: detaching yourself from male validation & seeking relationships

here's the thing with high school relationships: they are so so fun. the idea of a first love is such a beautiful thing in my opinion, and I think everyone SHOULD experience at like a sort-of romantic relationship before college. this teaches people how to care for others, have communication skills, and serves to help you navigate future, more serious relationships later in life.

HOWEVER, you really, really, really shouldn't ever depend on this idea that you will find a perfect boyfriend or girlfriend in high school, that you'll be sweethearts and go to prom together and be this perfect, complete thing. because, to put it honestly, people think too much about themselves. especially at an age where you are still very much a kid, growing and learning and sometimes not taking others into consideration.

" so, what?" SO, here is how you navigate this incredible strong desire to obtain a boyfriend, or even just romantic attention from guys:

get a hobby. not one to impress anyone but yourself. if you like a guy who's super into film, you don't need to become a ' film girl'. find somethings that screams YOU. it can literally be anything you enjoy doing in your free time, ( i'll put up a link to suggestions here) but I'm personally advising something productive. which brings me to my next point...

get off your phone!!! i can't say enough about this, seriously. if you're constantly checking your socials, on tiktok/snap/insta, you will be taking in the lives of other people, whether it be your friends or complete strangers. this builds jealousy. a proven fact, depression and anxiety is present teenagers who use social media DOUBLE the amount of teens who don't. majority of these apps don't lead to anything good, and mainly serve as major distractions to other important aspects of your life. ( i know you're reading this on tumblr, but i'm here to tell you that my account is good vibes only luv y'all)

non-romantic social interaction is key. everyone needs environments where they are able to decompress, be ugly, be genuine, laugh and have a good time without the upkeep or stress of trying to look a certain way. this is what real friends are for. on top of this, good friends will shut down negative self-talk and hype you up like you deserve to be! spend time with people that make you feel good about yourself.

turning that all into confidence doesn't look like the simplest thing, but trust me, it can be effortless with time and sticking to what you know is best for yourself. putting your phone away creates less windows into other people's lives, which will in turn make you realize that those people you once obsessed over? not that important. reaching that step will be such a relieving feeling, and you won't regret it. putting your time into things you're interested will help you get to know yourself better, enjoy solitude, and will genuinely make you happier. the reason people encourage things like this in the first place is because they work!! the final results of doing these things will look like a self-confidant queen, who doesn't chase, but attracts.

[jewish-vents]

I'm a german jew, and the political situation here is honestly terrifying; not only is the AfD (literal neo-nazis) gaining votes but now the guy who's the favorite to become chancellor has said that he's willing to form coalition with them, which means that not only is he ready to work with *literal nazis* but he's also broken this like unofficial agreement between the different parties to keep the "far-right" from gaining power

I'm genuinely considering moving to Israel where, yeah, being gay isn't gonna be fun, but at least I won't be the victim of another Shoah

(wish my grandparents and aunts and uncles had had that possibility in 1933)

If it helps, anon, the experience of being gay in Israel may be much better than you think. While there absolutely are homophobic elements, and the right wing has been gaining power in Israel, like in most of the world, there is also a significant queer community and many organization working to protect civil rights.

If this is something you're worried about, I would suggest reaching out to some of the organizations in Tel Aviv to see if they can help you get a more concrete idea of what to expect.

Do any of our followers have suggestions for specific groups to contact?

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: there is quite literally no plot here 😭 just a lazy day with william and smut. not too much to say except i hope you guys enjoy!

word count: 3.1k

tw: dirty talk, masturbation (f), oral sex (m receiving), oral fixation, unprotected p in v sex, biting (brief and not sexual), pillow humping,

summary: a rainy off day means you and william have nothing better to do than fool around on the couch

Rain batters the windows of the apartment, a steady rhythm that’s serving as the perfect background noise to your lazy afternoon. You’re grateful for the miserable Toronto weather that’s giving you the perfect excuse to not go outside or be productive on William’s day off.

The dogs have been walked and are now sprawled across your bed, even though they know they’re not allowed up there, you’re too lazy and comfortable on the couch to get up and shoo them out. Eventually you’ll get up and kick the dogs to their own beds, but for now they’re getting their way. Spoiled little brats.

Your cheek is pillowed on William’s thigh, hard muscle and blond hair under the slippery fabric of his basketball shorts. One of his hands strokes lazily through your hair, twisting little pieces here and there, tugging gently and absently.

His other hand glides over your side, the dip of your waist, the curve of your hip, pats your ass gently, and repeats. It’s a soothing, repetitive motion that has your eyelids fluttering as you try and focus on the TV. The hand dips under the waistband of the sweats you’d stolen from William’s drawer, baggy and worn out in all the right places, finger toying with the thin strap of your thong. He snaps the elastic playfully against your skin and you huff a little noise, turning your face to nip at his thigh in warning.

“Trying to watch,” you mumble, even though you’re only half focused on the episode of Cobra Kai that’s playing. You’re catching up on the latest drop of episodes, William a faux-reluctant participant in your binge. He’d complained when you first started watching the cheesy show, but quickly got absorbed in the antics.

He chuckles and pulls his hand from its spot tangled in the elastic band of your thong. His fingers dance up over your side again until his arm comes to rest on your shoulder, forearm draped over your collarbones and one big hand curled around your breast. He plays with your nipple, thumbing at the tightening point through the fabric of your shirt. The sensation makes you shiver, distracting you and sending a warm flood of arousal to pool low in your belly.

William hums, still playing with your breast, kneading like a cat. It’s impossible to concentrate on the show, so you wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug his hand up so you can tuck it under your cheek.

“Hey,” he laughs under his breath, “I was playing with that.”

You angle your neck and look back at him, lips curving in a faint smile. “I’m trying to watch my show. Behave,” you murmur, William’s fingers wiggling against your face. You nudge at the palm of his hand with your nose and he laughs again.

“Of course, älskling,” he says, tugging at your hair and settling deeper back into the couch.

While you watch, William’s hand shifts under your cheek and you let the intrusive thoughts win for once, sinking your teeth into the fleshy part of his palm near his thumb. It’s not a deep bite, more than a nip though and William exhales sharply at the surprise.

“What was that?” He asks, looking down at you where your teeth are still clamped around his skin. He taps his thumb against your cheekbone and you release him, leaving a faint imprint of your teeth behind.

“I dunno,” you roll onto your back and look up at him. “I just wanted to bite you.”

William squishes your cheeks together, puckering your lips, and shakes his head at you. His eyes twinkle with mischief and you wonder what he’s going to do next. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the fabric of his shorts twitch and you try to hide your grin, knowing that he’s getting hard.

“We have to find something better for you to do with that mouth,” William murmurs, pressing his thumb against your lower lip. He presses a little harder and you let your mouth fall open, the pad of his thumb landing on your tongue. The corners of your lips quirk up at the corners and you close your mouth around his thumb, tracing the tip of your tongue over it like you would if it were his cock.

“There you go.”

William grins at you, the rest of his fingers curling around your cheek and stroking your skin. “Keep that mouth busy so you don’t bite me again,” he teases and you hum, eyes fluttering shut as he strokes at your hair. You let your teeth scrape over the pad of his thumb and William chuckles, low and deep in his throat.

It keeps you occupied for a few moments, but you’re getting wetter the longer you sit with his thumb pressing against your tongue and you rub your thighs together before letting one leg fall open to the side. Your hand slides up over your hip and under the waistband of your pants, fingertips finding your clit like a magnet and rubbing circles around it for relief. You sigh happily, mouth falling open just enough for William to withdraw his thumb.

“Getting all wet just from sucking on my thumb?” William murmurs, watching the way the fabric of your pants shifts as you work over your clit. “How wet will you be with my dick in your mouth, huh, älskling?”

His tease only serves to turn you on even more and you turn your head so you’re looking directly at the tent in his pants. You grin and let your tongue dart out to wet your lower lip. You and William both know that sucking his dick will lead to you making yourself come at least once on your own hand - it’s tried and true at this point.

“Why don’t we try it and see?” You reply softly, playing along. Reluctantly, you slip your hand from your clit and shuffle around, nearly falling off the couch in your attempt to get between William’s legs.

He laughs and catches you around the waist. “Real sexy, älskling,” he teases, drawing you to his chest so he can kiss you before helping you out of your sweats and on your knees. You settle between his legs, your shoulders touching the insides of his knees, and adjust your position so the heel of your foot is tucked against your clit. The position will end up being uncomfortable soon enough, your legs already starting to go numb, but it doesn’t really matter.

“Lift up so you can take these off,” you slide your hands over his thighs, enjoying the contrast of his leg hair against your palms. The fabric of the basketball shorts bunches and gathers, exposing inches of thigh as you move.

William grins at you and lifts up, thigh muscles tensing as they’re engaged. Your fingers curl around the fabric and tug, rushing to pull them down his legs. His cock, thick and hard, springs free and slaps against his stomach, standing proud and already beading precum at the tip. You lick your lips involuntarily and William wraps one hand around the base of his cock, squeezing.

“That desperate for my cock in your mouth, huh?” He teases you, stroking himself slowly. Your stomach flips and you watch his hand move, tendons flexing beneath his skin. “Actin’ like my own personal little slut.”

“Mhm,” you hum, looking up at him with wide eyes before you lean up on your knees and drape yourself over his lap to get closer to his cock. “Sit back and let me get my mouth on you.”

William opens his mouth to retort, but anything he’s about to say is choked off in a groan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and suck gently, flattening your tongue over his slit.

“Shit!” He moans and his hands fly to your head, tangling in your hair. You grin around him and take another inch or two into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him and humming. “Älskling, fuck, feels so good.”

You let your hands wander over his shaft and balls, stroking and applying pressure, tracing the veins on his cock with light fingertips until William’s thighs are trembling. His hips buck and the head of his cock hits against the roof of your mouth. You groan around him and William curses loudly.

With one hand, you wrap the base of his cock in a steady pressure, sliding your hand up and down the few inches that aren’t in your mouth. The other hand drifts down between your legs, toying with your clit until your fingers are soaked with your own arousal. William’s cock is a thick, heavy weight on your tongue and he keeps his fingers twisted in your hair, holding your face in position.

He keeps up a mindless stream of chatter over your head, biting off curses every time you hollow your cheeks. Tears fill your waterline when he tugs just slightly too hard on your hair and you whine in the back of your throat, lifting up on your knees to swallow more of him down. You continue rubbing at your clit, nearly at the edge of your own orgasm just from sucking William’s dick.

“Gimme,” he mumbles, reaching blindly at your upper arm, “wanna taste you, älskling.”

Fuzzy-headed, you swallow, your throat working around the head of his cock and William curses again. He grabs at your arm and drags your hand away from your clit, holding your wrist so he can wrap his lips around your fingers, sucking your arousal from them.

You whine, lust shooting straight down your spine and making your clit throb painfully. William smirks down at you, his tongue warm on your fingers. He matches his movements to yours, sucking at your fingers when you suck at his dick and as much as you love when he uses that mouth for dirty talk, this is even hotter.

Bracing your free hand on his hip, you lean in even more, swallowing down all of William’s thick inches, your nose pressed against the coarse hair trailing down his stomach. He groans around your fingers sending a vibration straight down your arm and to your core. You’re dripping on the floor, a flood of arousal unstoppable.

William’s stomach muscles bunch and tense and you know he won’t last much longer, precome and saliva filling your mouth and leaking out around the plug of his cock. You hum a few more times, bobbing your head up and down until you feel him thicken on your tongue and he comes almost without warning, warm, thick ropes of come shooting down your throat. You swallow and swallow and come leaks out the corners of your mouth, but you don’t bother wiping it away and when he’s done, you pull off of his cock. A string of saliva connects your mouth to the head of his cock and you break it with your tongue, leaning in to kiss the sensitive, ruddy head softly.

He bites out a curse and his hips twitch up in your direction, making you grin.

“How was that?” You ask cheekily, resting your cheek against the inside of his knee and tracing your fingers lazily over his inner thigh and up over his hip. William’s softening cock twitches with interest and you stroke delicate fingers over his shaft and balls, playing with him.

Your boyfriend looks down at you with a drunken look in his eyes. His mouth curls in a contented smile. “You’ve got a fucking magical mouth, älskling,” he laughs hoarsely. “I love it when you get to work.”

The praise warms your stomach and you dance your fingers up into the trail of dark hair below his belly button, scratching your nails against his skin. The fabric of his shirt lifts with your movement and your mouth waters at the sight of slightly tanned skin and hair. His cock is fully soft again now, resting against his thigh and you want to keep playing with him, horny as ever. Your clit throbs, reminding you that you haven’t come yet, the steady stream of arousal from your cunt making a mess of the floor and your thighs.

William notices how you shift and his eyes twinkle. “Did you not come?” He asks, reaching down to cup your cheek in one big hand. His thumb toys at your lower lip and your tongue darts out to lick the pad. “Do you need a little help?”

You nod, giving him a wide-eyed, pleading look. You want his fingers in your cunt, knowing it’ll take too long for his cock to get hard again and you’ll be left suffering for too long.

His grin turns slightly mocking and you pout, knowing that William is absolutely not going to help you out. He leans to the side and grabs a throw pillow off the couch, tossing it to you while saying, “if you can get yourself off with the pillow in the time it takes that magical mouth to get me hard again, I’ll fuck you like you deserve, älskling.”

“Will,” you whine, pouting. He pinches your cheeks together, pursing your lips and leans down to kiss you.

“Those are the terms, take them or leave them,” he says, cradling your chin.

You frown at the pillow on your lap and huff an annoyed sigh, he knows he’s playing dirty and you’d do just about anything to come on his cock. You snatch the pillow up and shove it between your legs, immediately moaning when the rough fabric brushes against your swollen clit, “oh my god.”

Without really thinking about it and letting instinct take over, you rock your hips over the pillow, sighing when pleasure starts to build low in your stomach. William’s fingers are warm on your face and you look up at him, the intensity of his eye contact making you even wetter.

“Look good, älskling, riding that pillow like it’s my cock,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your lower lip. His other hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly. “I’ll help you, but you need to get that mouth to work.”

You hum and dig your nails into William’s thigh, breath sawing in and out of your lungs on whimpers as you rock over the pillow. Each catch of fabric on your clit sends sparks dancing in your vision. “Wanna come,” you whine, leaning in and bracing yourself on his thighs. William’s hand falls away from his cock as you wrap your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue in a haphazard rhythm. Your hips stutter and it takes you a minute to coordinate your mouth and your hips so you’re sucking him to hardness while giving yourself pleasure.

“Come on, baby,” William wraps your hair around his hand and makes a fist, pulling it back from your face so he can see the way his cock disappears into your mouth. “Touch yourself too, go ahead. Fuck, you look so good with my dick in your mouth.”

You whine around him and drop your hand to your clit, circling it with stiff fingers, gasping and choking on William’s cock as your orgasm builds.

He keeps talking over your head, but your energy is focused on breathing through your nose and trying to finish, his words blurring together into nonsense. His cock thickens on your tongue, heavy and hard, and you have to pull off him when you come, afraid you’ll bite down.

Your orgasm explodes in your body, gushing out onto the pillow and your thighs, your vision blurry and your chest heaving as you try to suck air into your lungs.

William’s hand is warm and heavy, cradling your head and he scratches his fingers lightly against your scalp. “Feel good, älskling?” He murmurs, laughing when you nod against his hand, head fuzzy and legs trembling. Your knees are starting to hurt and you shift, the pillow chafing against your sore clit. You whine and William laughs again, wrapping his hands around your biceps and tugging gently.

You go easily, your knees cracking slightly, until William has you straddling his lap and draped over his chest. He cups the back of your neck and tilts your head so he can kiss you sweetly. You hum into his mouth, hips moving absently over William’s lap. His cock is trapped between your bodies and you can feel it pulse.

“I feel like a limp noodle,” you reply, mouthing at William’s jaw. His hands slide under your shirt and splay over your back, holding you tight against his chest. “I’m never moving from this spot.”

You feel William’s laugh rumble through his chest as it reaches your ears and he rests his chin on top of your head. “Good, because I promised you the orgasm you deserve and I don’t plan on going back on my word,” he says, hands roaming lower on your ass and grabbing so he can lift you and notch his cock at your entrance.

A keen works it way out of your throat as William’s cock fills you inch by inch, his hands tight on your ass to lower you gently. You wriggle and gasp, overly sensitive. “Will…” you exhale his name on a breathy moan, his cock bottoming out and stealing the rest of the air from your lungs.

“Just relax, älskling,” William hums, pumping his hums up into yours. “I’ll do all the work.”

He hits a particularly deep spot inside of you and you wail, muffling the sound in his neck, clinging to him tightly as he fucks up into you.

Neither of you last particularly long and William makes sure you come first before he pumps you full, holding you down on his cock while he finishes with a shout of your name and his fingers digging tightly into your skin.

If you thought you felt like a limp noodle before, you’re even more wrung out now, your body buzzing from adrenaline while simultaneously exhausted. Even though you’re sticky and sweaty and you really need to get up and clean off, you burrow deeper into William’s neck and go limp against him. His heart is racing against yours and you wiggle your hips to get comfortable.

“Make sure I get up in five minutes so I don’t get a UTI,” you mumble around a yawn.

William’s body slumps back into the couch and he kneads absently at your ass, amusement in his voice when he replies, “yes, ma’am.”

[taelophone]

Greek Brothers ˙⟡ — A tutorial. “How do I write Frat Boys?”

OK, A LOT OF PEOPLE ACTUALLY WANTED A PART 2. HERE U GO

!DISCLAIMER! Not all frats are the same, and no two people are the same. This is constructed based off of my experience with various types of brothers (and sisters) in Greek life.

Let’s go!

1. TYPES of Frat Boys

Ok, so just to start, to write frat boys in general you are automatically going to need to learn how to write borderline terrible behavior lol. There are many different kinds of Frat Boys, but the one that probably just popped into your head has blonde of brunette hair with a baseball cap, a beer in hand, and horrible manners. Probably a sleazeball, too.

We call those types of brothers Douchebags, or “DudeBros”

DudeBros are basically walking talking himbos. Sports, beer, money, hoes, sex, liquor, lie lie lie lie. Probably has a college bro accent, which TRACES BACK to a Valley Girl accent. Brush up on your Californian, cuz you can’t understand him with his mouth full of gum and his head CONSTANTLY tilted back.

These dudes are more than likely holding some sort of title at the frat. He’s probably VP, Recruitment chair, or house manager. Either way, you’ll encounter them a lot in Greek life. Reaaaallly lean into that whole exaggerated frat boy thing in your writing!! LEAN INTO IT! The stereotypes are very correct lol😭

9/10 he is probably pushing around a pledge, or having one run his errands. Some examples of how he would talk include…

“Yo, pledge, ca’mere? Get this dude some water, and then when he stops throwing up, kick him the fuck out.” ”He’s being a little bitch and there’s mad hoes around and it’s ruining the vibe, bro.” ”Yo, what’s up babes…oh yeah the bathrooms just over there…You’re Gracie’s sister, right? You guys do your makeup the same. Her makeup looks like shit.”

LEARN TO WRITE DISRESPECT!! they are so disrespectful to those they don’t find attractive and are so mean😭 He’s loud, unserious, a twinge misogynistic, and is likely to grab your ass at the party. The second kind of Frat boy, which is actually less talked about, is the Pushover. It’s exactly what it sounds like. He’s new, he’s learning to adjust to the frat, etc etc.

YOUR CHARACTER WILL HAVE MUCH BETTER LUCK COMMUNICATING WITH A PUSHOVER VS A DUDEBRO.

They don’t really get called by their name a lot lol😭 they’re often just referred to as “pledge” and lowkey are still adjusting to the party scene. He’s gonna be quieter, but will exercise his frat boy status when left alone. Literally will ONLY step into that attitude AFTER his brothers are gone.

I don’t think I need to give examples for this kind of dude, cuz he’s really just a quiet nodder.

However, this doesn’t exempt him from being a bad person. Because a pledge wants to earn respect from his brothers, they are going to make him do some INSANE shit. This is how hazing works, so now you know how to write hazing.

His brothers will make him say or do insane shit to girls, and he’s experiencing his first rush of frat power. Is actively forming into a proper frat boy, so try and highlight this by giving him a “softer” tone compared to his brothers. He’s not as loud as the DudeBro, and he kind of speaks with a mumble in his words. Probably has a really bad vocal fry going on too

The third Frat Boy, also the one Luigi falls into is the TechBro.

These guys lack one of two things; Social skills, or open-mindedness. Do not get into arguments w these men you will leave wanting to end it all.

The DudeBro’s right hand man, but not douchey and misogynistic. Is arguably the smartest person in the frat, but literally cannot stfu about his views and knowledge for five seconds. Borders on “scaring away the hoes” and “sexy smart man”

You can ALSO expect these types of men to be in positions of power. Usually a frat treasurer, philanthropy chair, or national advisor.

He’s contrastingly nice compared to most of his brothers but every now and again he will say something that raises a red flag in your mind before trying to re-explain himself better.

some examples of things they would say include…

”Hey girls. Henderson? Yeah no he went upstairs with Rachel. Can you go upstairs? No. Absolutely not.” ”What? Do we have any food? I’m not supposed to be giving you any but we have some Cheez-its in the top cabinet above the microwave.” ”*Lengthy rant about political views (usually libertarian.)*”

Now that that’s OUT THE WAYYY, let’s talk about what they do!

Frat boys actually don’t do much. They attend classes mostly, and every now and again they’ll host a rager. Most parties are genuinely open invite, as I said before, but brother-exclusive parties are literally just keg wars or chapter retreats.

Things I’ll leave you with so you’re not stuck on writing a frat-life event that’s NOT a party;

Recruitment events during rush week

Community service

Game Nights

Brotherhood dinners (sweethearts may sometimes attend these)

Greek Week Comps

[jimblejamblewritings]

starlight moonlight sunlight — blurb eleven

Title: Two Steps Forward

Pairing: eventual poly!Wolfstar x reader

Warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, we're approaching the comfort part

blurb series navigation here | previous blurb here

✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾

The first couple of times that you and your friends went to the lake, no one else was there. After you sent a letter by owl, the marauders and company started coming. You didn’t want to take advantage of James’ hospitality. At the end of the day, this was quite literally his home. They could use the lake if they wanted to. So while sometimes you staggered times, most days your friend group and the marauders simply took to separate sides of the lake. 

It was mildly pathetic — Remus and Sirius were aware — that they just stared at you when you and your friends weren't looking but they couldn't help it. Your bathing suits left very little to the imagination. Honestly, sometimes they were sure that you were just using your underwear as a swimsuit. This was one of those times. You slowly came out of the water, drying yourself off with a large fluffy towel.

"I have to go guys. I promised to come in early and help close the store after my book signing."

"Good luck. We'll be the first in line when it's time."

With a laugh, you gave them a wave before heading back inside the cottage to get ready for work. You had finished your book before graduation, with nothing but time thanks to the sudden loneliness you had found yourself in. It had been picked up by an agent relatively quickly and a publisher even quicker than that. And now it was officially out. Ever since the marketing for your book came out the bookstore saw a new light. You weren't sure if you were going to reach bestseller status but at least the bookstore saw customers daily now. And from what you could tell, the pre-order numbers weren't bad.

Only half an hour after you left, Max also got out of the water to go run a few errands. He probably didn't need to leave this early but he wanted to make sure that he and the rest of your friends were in fact the first in line for your signing. He could have apparated to a closer spot near Gringotts but chose to pass by the bookstore instead, chuckling when he saw you promptly reach to change the radio station.

The marauders had been finding some success with their band. They weren't huge and they weren't even sure if they were going to continue it professionally past university but it was fun for now. You, however, had a strict rule that no songs by Mischief Managed were ever allowed to be played while you were on shift.

With the scariest of your friends gone for the better half of the morning, Remus and Sirius found an opportunity to pounce. For once in his life, the raven-haired man kept his mouth shut and let his boyfriend do all the talking. Remus wanted to shrink under the gaze of your friends. They weren't nearly as scary as Max and he was a good bit taller than all of them yet three pairs of eyes focused on him was still fairly intimidating. Pamola, Jace, and Tilda all exchanged glances as they listened to Remus' ramblings. At some point, they weren't even sure what he was going on about anymore.

Pamola finally cut him off. "We'll be at your place for tea in twenty minutes. We can talk then."

They would have thought Remus just one the lottery with how bright he smiled. He and Sirius practically ran back to the main house on Potter Estate to get the sunroom ready. Obviously, they still had to apologize to you but they were more than aware they had to get through your friends first. They didn't have to be liked but Remus and Sirius needed to be tolerated enough to not have all their attempts blocked.

The sunroom looked nice. Pamola, Jace, and Tilda had to admit as they sat down. Sirius was a perfect gentleman as he prepared their tea to each person's liking, continuing to let Remus take the lead. There was much less flustered bumbling this time. Pamola and Matilda put on their best mean glares while Jace motioned for the two men to sit down.

"Do you know why we, especially Max, have been so hostile towards you?"

"Because you're good friends?"

He chuckled. "At least you understand the concept of flattery, Lupin. No, we're this way because she won't be. Garden nymphs are loyal to a fault. So are wood nymphs. Trees and gardens don’t move. They don’t flow with the wind but stay firm. She’s only two generations of wizard. Ancient bloodline of nymphs. She doesn’t know how to leave until that wizard side kicks in.” 

Pamola took a sip of her tea. “She’s been hurt before with other friends. Stayed longer than she should have. Y/N was hurt pretty badly by the whole thing.” 

“What happened?” 

“Nymphs are nature so they are very comfortable with a lack of clothing.” 

“Yeah, we’ve noticed,” Remus said with a laugh. It would be impossible not to be aware at this point.

“She trusted them. Made a little grove in the woods on school grounds and everything. Finally showed them a place where she could just be herself. They went swimming in the river and took pictures of her. Everyone wanted to see what a nymph looked like under her clothes.”

Matilda huffed. “They cut her face out of the pictures and convinced her that it was okay. Just an accident. No one outside of school could tell but we only have two student nymphs and the other one is a guy. Everyone at Ilvermorny knew it was her.” 

“They did that?” 

She nodded. “And she was still friends with them for another three months until we got her to be with us instead. Gardens don’t leave when their tillers stop tending to them. They just stay where they are until they wither. Nymphs are the same. Just be nice to her a few times and you’ve got the garden in your hands. She loves until it destroys her.”

“She never told us.” 

“Of course not.” Jace sat back in his chair. “Look, it’s nothing against you, even before this shit happened she still wouldn’t have told. It accidentally gets out and everyone’s trying to be her friend or get with her while knowing they can treat her like shit and she won’t stop them.” 

Sirius scratched the back of his head, looking up to try and prevent tears from welling in his eyes. It probably took a lot of courage and effort for you to tell him off those times. Even though it ruined your friendship, he was really proud of you for doing so. He sniffled a bit before looking back at your friends. 

“Who’s the other nymph? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Me,” Jace said, his ears turning pointed at the tips. “Nymphs stick together. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t protect Y/N. Look, you two have been decent ever since we've been here. Come after her book signing but don't expect us to help you if she doesn't want to talk to you."

Remus and Sirius nodded with the utmost sincerity. All they wanted was a chance to talk you again. They truly weren't expecting anything else no matter how badly they were hoping for it. Was it torture waiting for the clock to read 6pm? Absolutely. But the marauders weren't going to risk messing anything up by arriving even a second too early.

You smiled in satisfaction as you packed up the little sign in the window that had announced the book signing. Even though he didn't work there, Max stayed behind for a little bit to help you clean up. Like expected, the crowd wasn't going for miles down the road but it was enough people to fill up the store. And that was more than good enough for you. You briefly paused your wiping down of tables when you heard the bell on the store's front entrance chime.

"Hello, welcome to Pages in Bloom. Feel free to look around but it's Sunday so we do close in twenty minutes. Be right wit—.” You paused at seeing the marauders and company.

James and Peter held up multiple bags. “We brought wine to celebrate the debut.” 

Max slung an arm around your shoulder, staring them down. Sirius recognized that look. The one fiercely protective of a friend. The one that threatened everyone around because he had to pick up the pieces and would be damned if someone else came in to shatter your heart again. 

“Do you want me to kick them out?” he whispered against your shoulder. 

“No, I'll be fine. And you have a date, don't want to miss it."

They knew they had no right but Sirius and Remus breathed out sighs of relief at confirmation that he wasn’t your boyfriend. 

“You sure?” 

You nodded. Max walked past the group without saying a word, shoulder checking Sirius who just let it happen. To say there was tension would be the understatement of a century. Quietly, wine bottles were opened and poured into glasses. Congratulations and rave reviews fell from everyone's lips. You politely thanked them back. But no one seemed able to move past pleasantries and address anything deeply. You had a sense that maybe they were avoiding do so, waiting for something or someones, judging by the way they kept glancing over at your ex and his partner. Eventually, the sun started to set and the others slowly began filing out. Remus and Sirius stayed seated.

You preemptively poured another glass of wine, fearing you might need it. Remus gladly took the bottle from you when it was offered and poured himself the largest amount he could muster. He ran a hand through his hair before settling it to rest on the table.

"Firstly, before we say anything else, we want to apologize. Y/N, I'm sorry, truly."

You listened intently as Sirius echoed his sentiments. They didn't mince words, directly apologizing for what they did wrong rather than trying to be vague about it. And they didn't make excuse after excuse either.

"And I know we're in no position to make requests," Sirius started. "But we'd like to start over with you. Well, Moony would. I'd like to be given a chance to simply start something. If you'll have the both of us, that is."

The glass of wine in your hands felt heavy as you traced your finger along the rim. It wasn't a mattered of if you wanted them. Sirius' flirtatious nature wasn't something you were immune to. Remus' nice personality drew you in the first time. And both of them were more than pleasing to the eye. So the problem wasn't if you wanted them. It was should you let yourself want them.

“I don’t want another broken heart,” you admitted. “You hurt me, Remus. You really did.” 

“I know. But we promise that you won’t have another broken heart.” 

“I want to believe you but I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

“Is there any way we can fix this? Any inkling of a small possibility you’ll allow us to fix this?” 

You finally looked at them. “I would love for this to work. You’re both really nice and care for your friends and love each other dearly. I’d love that, to be a part of that. But I don’t think it’ll work. It’s the Remus and Sirius show. No room for other actors.” 

“It’s not. It won’t be. We promise.”

Sirius started to reach for your hand but thought better of it. "Let us prove it. We're not asking for anything right now but when uni starts can you at least close off your dating schedule? Pencil us in for all the slots… or at least half of them?"  

You nodded ever so slightly. Semi-exclusivity was something you were willing to give them.

|next blurb coming soon|

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[crimsonxe]

At this point they need to make a good will bridge to those that they stabbed in the back (and idgaf if you, no this isn't just from this post its from looking at your entire set of Pricefield posts hoping to get context to not be pissed off; but here we are). Especially with Michel of Dontnod aka the true canon makers in regards to Max and Chloe having stated that Pricefield would never break up; thus bringing Chloe back going to re-aligning the DE AU branch with the main canon.

"unforeseen reason", dumbass its called a connection, chemistry, and having gone through shit that fire-forges a bond. Also fuck off with this "losing Chloe leads to growth beyond the past"; reconnecting with Chloe can just as fucking easily deliver ACCEPTING the past, dealing with & healing from her trauma, and finally finding herself in the position of being ready to step forward WITH Chloe. It would be a matter of ACCEPTANCE & HEALING to move forward with the one that's always had her fucking back. The notion that she should just drop Chloe and "move on" is utterly fucking disgusting and very damn much biased, but I'll get to that. You clearly like Decknine don't have a damn clue about the characters, which is rich since in other posts of yours you try to frame Pricefielders as the ones wrong about them. Probably even defend the character assassination done to both Max and Chloe in DE. Hell your bitch ass just nonchalantly saying to kick a 10+ years old fucking iconic LGBT+ ship that has been said would NEVER break up by the true canon makers; that went through hell for each other including Max literally breaking time itself for Chloe; that has unmatched chemistry to the side says plenty about your very biased view.

No, its very much bias and if anything having Chloe there amps the potential storyline due to her & Chloe's relationship in this Decknine AU branch. Having Safi pulling on strings between Chloe and Max, that forces them to reconnect = great "villain" styling. While Safi is definitely better than Amanda (she at least has some damn sharp edge to her), she is NOTHING in comparison to Chloe.

Oh so your dumbass is fine with her being attached at the hip to Amanda/Vinh (the chemistry-less lipstick lesbian and the Nathan Prescott cleaned up preppy asshat); or Safi the seeming villain that at least does have some chemistry with Max just utterly lacking against Chloe. I also find it fucking hilarious how you literally throw open the door to all 3 of them, but won't offer a 4th option. But clearly your ass isn't biased, right?

This is pulling a later post into this which has to do how Pricefielders only focus on Chloe and take issue with DE cause of no Chloe vs. BtS that has her w/ Rachel. As someone that very much enjoys BtS, ships AmberPrice, Pricefield, and Amberpricefield (which the LiS multiverse thankfully allows all to exist) I can say that DE character assassinates the fuck out of Max and Chloe. I can also say that you're a fucking moron to think that LiS1 doesn't revolve around Pricefield and instead is about "violence against women"; that's an element within but isn't at the core of the damn game. I can say that Amanda (lipstick fucking lesbian) and Vinh (fucking Nathan cleaned up ass) are utterly fucking lacking, which makes the forced character assassination done to open the door for them that much fucking worse. Chloe wouldn't up and leave Max, because as of the halfway point of LiS Max had entered her walls and that locks her in, she also wouldn't make fucking threesome comments about a rando or other guy; Max wouldn't just give up on her relationship with Chloe, wouldn't be thirsting after every person, sure af wouldn't even in her journal use Rachel as a barb against Chloe, wouldn't be into a Nathan Prescott type, and several other details (punching Alderman, siding with Safi). That's not even going into outside of them details that DE utterly fucked up. Personally I'd want them to reveal that DE is just an AU branch within the multiverse by having its Max run across the actual main canon branch that has GREEN-haired Chloe and her Max living together happily as DontNod set up for Bae route people in LiS2; while also repairing her own relationship with her Chloe leading to a choice in the end. Unlike you I'd even say that in that choice there'd be 5 options: Vinh, Amanda, Safi, Chloe, and alone.

Clearly your ass is in the minority camp of things, especially considering the disdain towards DE that goes beyond just Pricefield. Hopefully the shake up in regards to the creative team brings in people that actually know the characters to try to fix the garbage fire that DE is currently. I'd beg them to bring in Emma Vieceli that handled the comics, which did everything DE attempted to do BETTER and before it; including respecting DontNod and their damn canon.

this is probably going to be EXTREMELY controversial so i dont expect ANYONE to agree (please dont hate me 🙏🙏🙏‼️‼️‼️) but i REALLY DONT WNAT CHLOE BACK IN DE2. I HAVE REASONS!!!!!!!!

1. i think that it'll be viewed as a cash grab and like pricefield / chloe fans r never happy sooooo

2. if chloe and max were to get back together for some unforeseen reason i think that woukd ruin max's potential growth in de2 in my opinion. like i PERSONALLY think that her 'losing' chloe should help her move on from the past and should be portrayed as something that can help her move forward instead of dwelling on what could have been (as taylor swift once said, everything you lose is a step you take 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️)

3. i think she'd be so out of place and id rather have de2 focus on max and safi's relationship and this highkey sounds lkke bias because of my fixation but i PROMISE YOU its not.. mostly...

4. i think that max should grow by herself i really dont think she needs to be attached to chloe by the fucking hip.. like i would be so fucking ecstatic if you got to be with amanda/vinh/safi at the end of de2 but i think the most realistic ending would be for her to be by herself, not FOREVER, but for a good amount of time for her to be secure with being by herself because i personally think max is extremely codependent with chloe.. if .. that makes sense

[feathers-fur]

I’ve seen a lot of these mood boards around for other kins but not for peregrine falcons so here’s attempt one :3

[theflopwonder]

Me, naively: Omg haha what if I wrote a fic abt the party at the fortress of solitude in superman/batman 26 as an excuse to do some Tim & Kon character study?

Me, after reading 4 separate comic runs from 4 different editorial teams who were OBVIOUSLY not talking to each other AT ALL to try and figure out the timeline & other logistics of this party: WHO THE FUCK FUCKED UP THIS HOUSE LIKE THIS GOOD GOD??????????

[askblueandviolet]

Do you think you be Mayor could’ve been better friends (orsomethingmore) under different circumstances?

MASTER POST

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[bedforddanes75]

do you have any fanfiction recs??

I DO!!!!!! im honoured that someone's thought of Me to ask for recs omg... anyway theyll be under the cut because making long posts without a cut makes me feel mean

okay im assuming u mean gatty cos. its Me so sorry if u didnt 😞 smut is marked with * btw!!! (also before i start i'm sorry to everyone i tag i Hate tagging it's really scary.) SO. in no specific order. let's go

love me to death* by...somebody who i do not know the tumblr of (sorry) is amazing. i'd also recommend everything else by this person, too, because all of it is beautiful.

all the king's horses by the wonderful @allylikethecat is one of my all time faves, it just makes me want to scream and cry and yell and jump up and down. in a very, very good way!! (also, it has horses, so.)

the big light by @betweenthings2 is for real godsent, and i would die to be able to write like this!!!!! (but if u do then tw for speak of s/a!! keep urself safe!) it's beautiful and sad and sad and sad and wonderful. again, i'd recommend everything else by them, too!!! (also loads of crisps because it got updated like three seconds ago, and i Love It)

in the search for it, inside of you* by @arainesque is so beautifully sad, and the best thing ever. it's so soft and wonderful and lovely and aaaaaahhh!!! the way she wrote their dynamic makes my heart ACHE. obsessed always :(((((<3

how little i really know (about the things that matter)* OH MY GOD. farm boy george. literally almost entirely what inspired deus like it's AMAZING. beautiful and i love it so much

roadkill, again, by @betweenthings2 because she's genuinely amazing and deserves nine hundred thousand billion kudos on every single fic <3 (tw for restrictive (i think) EDs btw!!) i think if i read this while not in a good mood i would explode and die. it's amazing

into my spiral patterns you (my love) by @lookedlikethebins which is in progress rn is HWHSKJSJSJ. beautiful. obsessed with how they've written george in this one <3

okay im Very sorry to everyone who i tagged here i genuinely hate tagging people so much it makes me SICK but i kinda felt bad speaking about fics and Not tagging people. LORD. someone give me a tumblr etiquette class