#of course it's not healthy to only help others but I genuinely want to see her be good at her coping mechanism u know

[red-jayus]

More doodles :] I am ass at taking pics but whatever here u have 2 lovely ladies and CatBoy before and after the forced retirement

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-two —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 5.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

B

"Hold him close to your chest, or he'll jump out of your arms. Here—like this."

Blue gently cradles the rabbit, then carefully tucks him into Ari's arms, guiding his hands to scoop under Grim's fluffy rear. She can't help but find it amusing that the boy who had taken her riding on such a large animal yesterday looks so wary holding a harmless bunny. A giggle bubbles up, and she bites her lip to keep it in.

"He's so... squirmy."

Blue keeps her hand on Grim, reassuring both the rabbit and him. "He's just ready for his breakfast. Want to help me feed him?"

"Sure."

Blue leads Ari to the hutch where the other rabbits are. She explains her morning routine, showing him how to supply the rabbits with enough grass, leaves, and berries to keep them healthy and plump. Not long ago, she was explaining this to Twix—the very person she forgot to say good morning to in a rush to find Ari outside. This time around, she wonders if Ari is genuinely interested or just being polite. She finds herself stealing glances at his face, studying his expressions perhaps longer than she should. His almond-shaped eyes and dark pink lips catch her attention.

He's cute.

It's not the first time the thought has crossed her mind since these strangers appeared. Cute like the men in her magazines, though he's not quite a man. Not in the way Ghost is. But he's taller than her by a head and two years older, evident in the notch on his throat and the deeper timbre of his voice.

But it doesn't matter. They are only here for a few days.

Blue closes the hutch and rocks on the soles of her boots. "Well, that was probably boring, huh? We could, um, go hunting if you want. Or to the pond. It's fun to swim there. Or maybe—" She pauses, mentally sifting through the limited activities available, frustration creeping in as none of them seem particularly impressive.

"This wasn't boring. Now I know rabbits are just as friendly as horses." He smiles.

"They are... except when Grim gets mad. Then he can be a bit of a jerk. Like if you accidentally step on his tail."

"I'd be pretty pissed if someone stepped on my tail, too."

"You don't have a tail."

"It's just a joke."

"Oh..." she fidgets with a strand of hair. "Right."

"The pond sounds good. It is fucking hot." Ari blows out a breath and swipes at the back of his neck.

"I know. So hot. Hot as balls."

Ari raises an amused brow. "Yeah, uh, hot as balls. Are you allowed to go by yourself, or do we need to ask your dad?"

"I get to do what I want," she lies easily with a shrug. "Buuuuut, we can ask Twix to go with us."

As long as Twix is with her, she suspects she can get away with not asking Ghost, who luckily is hunting with his old captain. It's not that he seems distrusting with these people as he did those first few months with Twix. Rather—she isn't thrilled about him knowing every little thing she does. She's never had anything just to herself. 

Twix is sitting on the porch, looking rather deep in thought as she skins a squirrel. Her hair is long, curtaining her face. When Blue asks if she wants to go to the pond, she agrees easily, claiming she has been meaning to cut her hair anyway with the encroaching warmth of summer. Nereida joins, too. 

Even early, the air is sticky, and the pond is cool and inviting. Ari rips his shirt off and jumps in without even a second to waste. Blue usually swims in her underwear and shirt, but she hesitates with her thumb in the belt loops of her jeans. She didn't consider that he would see her in her underwear. 

A soft touch to her shoulder. It's Twix. "Want me to grab you shorts real quick?"

"Um... yes. Yes please."

She changes into the shorts behind a tree. There is an odd pit in her stomach when she gets in the water. She doesn't quite know what it is, but it's similar to how she feels when she's scared sometimes. Ghost always tells her fear is a useless thing. It doesn't keep you alive. So she ignores it, shoves it down deep, and swims over to Ari with a purposeful splash that even wets Twix, who sits at the edge sharpening her knife.

"Damn. That's gonna cost you."

A splash is given in return, and then they are playing. High noon bounces shimmering light off the water as she tries to keep up with him, but at one point he sneaks up on her and she ends up with a mouthful. Nereida spends her time picking at some bunches of rosemary and Twix cuts her hair. But Blue doesn't notice any of that too much. When the water stills and they pause to catch their breath, Ari climbs onto a rock and shakes out his wet hair. She is quick to find a perch beside him. Absentmindedly, she pinches the bottom of her wet shirt to keep it from sticking to her chest.

"Woah. What happened here?"

Ari leans over to tap her thigh. 

"Oh—" she looks down at the thick scar, "I got shot there."

"Shit. You've been shot before?"

She nods and he moves his hand. "That's your battle scar."

"Battle scar?"

He smiles, eyes gleaming. "It's nice to have some place to swim so close by. Back at our old camp, there was lake but it was a few miles away, so my mom rarely let me go."

"I'm sorry, you know. About your mom. Mine is dead, too."

He half-smiles. "Thanks. I don't think about it too much anymore. My uncle and I have always been close so it helped to have him there." He nudges her shoulder. "You're damn lucky to have such a cool dad, huh?"

"Ghost?"

"Yeah, that guy is a beast. My uncle says they called him Ghost because no one could ever see him coming before suddenly, they were dead." 

"Oh, yeah, he is super cool," she quickly agrees. "He has taught me a lot."

"Shit, really?"

Nibbling the inside of her cheek, she shrugs to feign indifference. "I know how to throw knives pretty well."

"I gotta see that." His smirk etches a light dimple into his cheek. Then, his eyes flash behind her. "So what's up with his girlfriend?"

"Huh?" A divot forms between her brows before she follows his gaze, landing on Twix, whose hair is now just past her shoulders. She is wetting it, running her fingers through the newly cut strands. "Oh—Twix. That is not his girlfriend. She is my friend."

"You mean they don't sleep together?"

"Like in the same bed?"

"That's usually where people fuck, yeah."

He seems ready to laugh. She frowns, head tilting as confusion hums in her chest. "You mean like sex?"

He nods. "You know what that is, right?"

"Yeah, of course. I know all about it."

"You know they're probably doing it, right?"

"Ghost and Twix? No—no," she forces a laugh. "I mean, sometimes I catch him staring at her all weird. But I don't think—I mean, they hardly like each other and she is my friend, really, not his. He used to make me stay away from her, even. But I mean, they do spend a lot of time together now. It's usually to practice fighting and defense. Not to have...sex."

"Don't they share a room?"

"Just right now, because you guys are here."

Ari chuckles. "You really think they aren't fucking in there? She's really pretty. There's no way they aren't."

Blue looks back at Twix. Blue's fingers curl into the soaked fabric of her top. Her eyes flick back to him. "She would've told me if they were."

"If you say so."

T

Your thumb throbs in rhythm with the steady pump of Kyle's arms. Despite pressing it into your palm to dull the pain, the ache persists. You had nicked it while sawing off your hair, and now the taste of blood lingers in your mouth. You were still lapping at the painful pulse when the three men arrived to the pond, carrying a neon orange inflatable raft. They want to test it out on the water before embarking on the 35-kilometer journey across the channel. 

It is the third day of their presence and you can honestly say you've grown more comfortable, given that Kyle has gone hunting with you a few times now. He is easy to talk to, along with Nereida. Price—however—doesn't seem intrigued by you, or maybe you are insignificant in comparison to the rest that is on his mind. That's fair. You don't all need to be friends.

They've been spending most of their time gathering food. Ghost has been helping Price hunt deer to skin and dry into jerky they can take with them. Nereida showed you a patch of wild strawberries she found yesterday, boiling them down into jams before canning them. By having food with them, they will save time from having to hunt along the way. In perfect conditions, it would be a straight path, and they could make it to the Swiss mountains within a month or two. But it won't be a straight path, and obstacles are bound to hinder them.

Kyle audibly growls and straightens, wiping at his percolated brow. "This chamber just isn't inflating."

"It must have a hole somewhere. Check the seams," Price says.

Ghost flips the half-filled raft over with ease, running his fingers along the PVC. "Here." He taps what must be a minuscule puncture because you can't see it from where you sit. 

They patch it up with the little adhesive they have. The unease is noticeable as Kyle keeps pumping in air; they only have enough to cover a few holes, if they come across more. Finally, the six-person raft is full and they toss it onto the pond. Just the sight gets you thinking of all the variables they have to think of on the open water: the weather, currents, temperature. You had a friend in high school who swam across it once. She didn't get even halfway but having to pulled out, vomiting, and near-hypothermia. Open seawater is different than a pool. Unpredictable and quick to change.

"It seems sturdy." Nereida winds an arm around her husband's waist, pressing a chaste kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Don't worry about it."

"As long as it stays sturdy."

"It will," she assures him.

The cut has crusted over by the time evening settles and you have to will yourself not to pick at it. You find yourself alone with the horse, watching the sun set behind the trees, as everyone else eats. 

"You probably don't like being tied up here, huh? You'd rather be running around." The coarse mane engrosses your fingers. Cherry bobs her head and a wet muzzle brushes your elbow. It tickles and you smile softly. "I wonder what will happen to you once they leave," you whisper. "Horses can't fit in a raft, huh?"

"No, they can't."

A hand presses into her neck beside yours, the person's arm extending over your shoulder. You crane your neck at Kyle but his eyes are on the animal, thoughtful, brows lowered. You wet your lips and step to the side to bring more space between your bodies. 

"Not hungry either?" you ask.

Finally he looks at you, lips quirked at the side. "Nah. I had a big lunch." He stops petting her and crosses his arms, chin tilting. "Ever ridden a horse before?"

"Once or twice. As a kid."

His eyes almost lean dark green in the cast of orange light, but it must be a mere illusion. "Care to go for a ride?"

His eyebrow rises expectantly. You glance back at the cabin and then at Cherry. "Why not?"

He instructs you how to get on. You grip the knob of the saddle and flex your core, hoisting yourself with more strength than you've had to use in a few days. Kyle sits behind you and grips the reins after untying her. The last time you were on a horse was for a friend's birthday party; you trekked through a ranch on a white pony. Cherry is much taller than that one was, or maybe you're not fond of being so high up. You thread your fingers through her mane.

It is a silent ride at first as you try to ignore the sting on your butt, unused to firm leather seat. He must notice your discomfort because he tells you to relax and lean back. You do, until your spine brushes against his chest. It helps a little.

Cherry trots calmly through the trees, towards the circle of stumps that marks the east. 

"Do you think she will be able to take care of herself?" you break the quiet. 

"I'm sure she will be fine. Smart girl, huh, Cherry?"

The sun has disappeared but it isn't quite dark yet. "Are you scared?"

A breathy chuckle emits from behind you. He must realize what you are referring to—scared for the journey. "Yeah, always. I mean—I'm scared about Ari. He's the last family I got, and as old as he thinks he is, he's still young and naive. I still have to make choices for him."

"I was terrified of losing Joseph," you admit, and swallow. "He was so young and fragile. It felt like...like trying to keep an egg from cracking when your hands are made of stone. But at least I never had to take him to another country."

"That was your nephew? Joseph?"

You nod. 

"Tell me about him."

You rack your brain. "Well, he was seven. And he..." You smile to yourself. "He was the pickiest eater in the world, even when we were all starving. I could not get him to eat meat unless I practically burned it. And he liked to look at bugs. I did, too, when I was young. I used to dig up worms when it rained to show him." He hums a gentle laugh behind you. You find yourself lost in the thought of it for a second. "Sometimes I...I think about how once I die, there will be no one left to remember those little things about him. Then, he will be completely gone, you know?"

You don't know why you're telling him this. You shake your head. "Sorry."

"Don't be. We gotta talk about shit like that or else we'll go crazy."

"I'm pretty sure I'm already crazy."

"Probably." A deer passes to the left and Cherry startles, but he is quick to soothe her with a flick of the reins and a stern—easy. She settles. "Are you scared?" he asks after a moment.

"Of what?"

"Of traveling so far."

"Well, I don't know if Ghost..." you trail off, absorbing the tone of his voice. You stiffen. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"I mean how we're all leaving in a month."

"Wait—stop." You grip his hand over the rein with more force than necessary, urging him to bring Cherry to a halt. You twist your spine and gape at him. "What are you talking about?"

He eyes you with a frown, and rubs his neck. "Shit. I thought he already told you."

"No, he didn't. Tell me," you demand.

He clears his throat. "He, uh, agreed to come this morning, but only if we take another month to prepare and shit. Get his daughter ready, sort things out."

You try not tremble in anger as his words sink in, clenching your hands as your breath picks up. "Take me back," you breathe out, brain racing. "I want to go back now."

The ride back is silent. You feel shaken. Your nail digs deep into the nick on your thumb unthinkingly until there is a smear of blood over your fingers. The others are getting ready for bed when the two of you return, moon bright. You bite your tongue until Ghost leaves to his room, then you follow him, closing the door as gently as you can behind you.

He is halfway through peeling off his socks and stuffing them in his boots when you approach. "What happened to being a man of your word?" 

He looks up, resting his palms on his parted knees, looking far too relaxed for your liking. 

When he doesn't respond, you add, "You were supposed to tell me. You said you fucking would."

Your voice is low but harsh.

He stands, a calm understanding washing through his eyes. "I was about to tell you."

You throw up your arms but try to stay quiet. "Bullshit. You're just saying that now. You've had all day to tell me."

"I was waiting for the right time."

"You think I can't handle it," you accuse, an ugly snarl on your face. "That I don't deserve to be apart of these conversations even after everything I have done for you, and for her. I saved her life! You get pissed at me for not telling you about stupid things, meanwhile you don't communicate something so important like we are leaving with them in a month to fucking Switzerland. Does Blue know? Or do you keep your own blood in the dark, too?"

He growls quietly and takes hold of your chin, tilting your gaze to his. His touch is firm but far from bruising. "I am not lying to you. I wanted to have a conversation right now, where it could just be us. And no—I haven't told her. How I explain this to my child is not your concern." There is a command in his voice that forces you to calm down some, but your breath is still warm through your nose. He moves his hand to gently thumb a strand of shortened hair off your forehead, staring at it for a second, before gripping your chin again. "There is nothing I think you cannot handle. Now, who told you about this?"

Blotches of red crawl over your cheeks. "It doesn't...it doesn't matter."

He is visibly unsatisfied. He taps his thumb against your chin. "Tell me."

"It was...Kyle," you concede in an exhale. "He assumed I already knew."

His eyes darken. "It wasn't his place to assume."

"He didn't mean to." You reach up to pry his hand off, and he relents, leaving your jaw feeling sore. You rub it. "Why a month?" You try to change the topic.

He takes a deep, steadying breath and looks away, jaw flexing. "She needs time. I want to prepare her for all possible outcomes. I still don't think she is ready, but that doesn't matter. There won't be another opportunity like this in the future. I have to make her ready." He sits down on the edge of the bed and sits his elbows on his thighs, collecting his thoughts before adding, "And the weather is a big factor. Just because we have means to get across the water doesn't mean it will happen safely. The current is most predictable in July and August. We will wait until then."

You mentally sort through everything he is saying, willing yourself not to linger on the fact that you are beyond scared. Scared to leave the place you have finally felt safe in. Scared to clearly be the odd one out again. A tag-along. Everyone else in this group has a loved one looking out for them. You have yourself. You don't know if you have Ghost, really—not when Blue is the one he loves. His allegiance can only go so far.

"Okay," you whisper, more to yourself than to him. "A month, then. What about shelter? The nights will be our most vulnerable."

"We'll look for the safest places for the night. There'd be seven of us, so plenty of eyes to keep watch."

"And what if we run into a horde?"

"Well, we have plenty of ammo now for that." He flicks his eyes up to yours. "Thanks to you."

You nibble your cheek, palming your chest as if to calm your heart. 

"A month," he reminds you. "We will account for everything."

"Okay," you say again. There is a tinge of embarrassment over your outburst, but he doesn't seem fazed, as if you hadn't just barged in the room yelling at him. "Okay."

A click of his tongue. "Any more questions?"

"Not...not for now, I guess."

A few silent beats pass. The tension has left the room, leaving you with a wave of fatigue. Ghost must notice because he rises, gesturing to the bed. "Go on, then." 

The bed is yours again. Too exhausted to question it, you slip under the quilt, curling into a fetal position by the slanted ceiling. It's best to enjoy the warmth before you're back on the move. A week journeying through the woods was the worst you'd ever endured, barely surviving. Now, it'll be months, or however long it takes to reach the goddamn Swiss mountains.

The light flicks off. There is a groan in the mattress and heady warmth spills over you. Your eyes fly open. "What are you doing?"

"Getting some sleep."

You turn around to see him lying beside you, flat on his back, with his arms crossed behind his head. "Together?"

"Clearly neither of us fancies the floor."

You flush, feeling his firm thigh brush against yours. "Just... keep to your side."

"I'll be a gentleman, if you're worried."

"I'm not," you mumble. "How do you even sleep in that thing, by the way?"

"Like a baby."

"Don't you think it's weird that Kyle has seen you without it and I haven't?"

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Twix."

"And mental sanity doesn't suit you, Simon."

"Don't recall giving you permission to use that name."

"What, only your old captain gets to use it? How close were the two of you, exactly?"

Teasing him feels better than you're willing to admit.

He grunts. A pillow is thrashed against the side of your face. "Go to sleep."

"Yes, sir," you bite into the pillow.

Your instinct is to flinch closer to the edge, though it is difficult given the small size of the bed and the unnatural size of him. Your knees float off the mattress. Still, his sprawled-out position leaves points of connection. Your back, his elbow. Your feet, his calf. Small touches that do a surprisingly good job at soothing the mess in your brain.

You awake. Warm and rested.

Safe.

Morning light streams in, turning the backs of your eyelids red. Your face nudges forward until your nose brushes against fabric—a shirt. Awareness settles in slowly. Your toes stretch and brush against another set of toes. You realize you’re curled close against someone.

He’s still on his back, his right arm draped across your waist, fingertips resting on your exposed hip. Your breath hitches, and you do your best not to flinch. Your face is nuzzled into his chest, close enough to discern ribs from muscle. His steady breathing and gentle rumbles indicate he’s still asleep. You’re ready to peel yourself away when you notice your leg is on top of his, practically trapping him.

Fuck.

You stay still, devising a plan to extricate yourself without him noticing the position you're in. Then, in one swift motion, you leap up, removing all contact, and breathe hard as if ripped from a nightmare.

His eyes open and he swears. "Jesus. What was that?"

"Just a dream," you lie. "Sorry for waking you."

You jump out of the bed and practically run out before he can say anything; before he can realize how odd it'd be for you to have a dream when you haven't had one since... since staying in his room.

You lock yourself in the bathroom and grip the counter, knuckles whitening in the attempt to erode the feel of his warmth that seems to linger. A lump is forced down your throat as you lean back against the wall and close your eyes for a moment. When they reopen, you look down and lift your shirt, only to find the indent of strong fingertips brandishing your plush hip. Jesus. Your stomach knots and unknots. 

"You didn't like that," you whisper to yourself. You brush your thumb over the marks, gently at first, then palming them hard as if to erase them. You drop your shirt and look at the mirror. "You did not like that."

Before someone can stumble upon you talking to yourself, you comb your fingers through tousled strands and slip out. It seems most others are awake. How could you and Ghost have slept so long? Usually, the two of you are up with the sun. 

"Hey. Morning," you greet when you spot Blue on the porch, belly down, as she plays checkers with Kyle's nephew. She glances over her shoulder. Something in her bright eyes seems...off, but you can't put your finger on it.

"Hi. Is Ghost up yet?"

"Hm? Oh, uh—not sure. I didn't check, really."

"Okay." She looks back at the game and says nothing else. You feel as though she saw right through you. Or maybe that boy has told her everything. Surely he knows about Ghost's plans? Kyle had to have told him. Maybe that is why Blue seems upset, but like he said, it isn't your place to say anything. 

You are itching for a hunt. 

It feels urgent, for some reason. Like you want to get out of here before Ghost can be up, too. You find Kyle and he suggests that the two of you take Cherry so you can get go further south where he claims there is a meadow to look for deer. It is difficult to ride with him behind you and a bow on your back, so he wears it for you. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head.

"Awfully quiet this morning. Penny for your thoughts?"

"I talked to him," is what you give. "Last night."

"Ah. How'd that go?"

"It was fine. I mean, I am getting used to the idea."

"That's good. It'll be worth it, you know. Once we get there. Finally get to have a semblance of a normal life."

A normal life. You almost snort at the thought. 

The morning grows longer, and not even the haircut can save you from the sweat that gathers. You make it to the meadow after an hour of horseback that leaves your thighs bristling. He helps you down and ties Cherry to a tree. You wade through tall, bright grasses that sway in the humid breeze. It looks vaguely familiar, stirring something in your gut that has your boots frozen for a moment. 

Kyle looks back at you, noticing that you've stopped following. "Good?"

"I just—I think I've been here once before. When I was on my own. I came this way." Your eyes scan the surrounding trees, where the meadow feeds into the forest, and an a gnarly oak with distinctive branches catches your eye. "I definitely have been here. I slept in that tree."

You push into the meadow, shaking off the memory. Staying close to Kyle, you listen as he lightly shares memories from the military, careful not to startle any potential deer. He talks about his time in Afghanistan, mentioning that his brother was also there, but at a different base. Kyle didn't even know his brother had died until weeks later because he was out in the field.

"After Afghanistan is when I met Ghost the first time."

"Oh?"

He nods. "He was my lieutenant when I went to Russia. I was scared shitless of him at first. I mean, he had a bit of a reputation and I was only 22."

"He was good at what he did," you say.

"More than that. People said he was up to some shit outside of what he did, but that was just rumors."

You think you spot a streak of gold through the grass, but it is just a stalk of wild wheat. You look back at him. "What do you mean?"

"May have heard a thing or two about him killing a guy off-duty. Of course, unconfirmed, otherwise he wouldn't have been enlisted again."

He killed someone? Like actual murder? You're about to ask more, your mind flashing back to your face pressed against him an hour earlier. Then you spot a deer. Kyle sees it too and motions for you to stay quiet. Your boots are nearly silent as you draw an arrow, squinting to see clearer. There are three deer: an adult female and two fawns. You draw the string and aim for the adult, the easier target.

"I'll get the doe," you whisper.

"Gotcha."

The beady black eyes turn your way, and you hesitate for a moment. There's movement, a flash of grey, and the doe snaps her eyes in another direction. What is she looking at? Your brows furrow, arrow following her gaze, when the answer appears: a Grey launching toward the deer. The three deer run off, and you release the arrow, aiming for the Grey's head instead.

"Motherfucker. Ruined the kill," Kyle mutters.

You weave toward the corpse, surprised to see such a fast one alone, indicating a new infection. The stench is pungent, enveloping you in a thick cloud. You shudder. The Grey writhes, your arrow lodged in its neck instead of its brain. You draw another arrow and aim when a hand suddenly grips your shoulder.

"Twix," Kyle breathes in your ear.

"What?" 

You look away from the Grey and follow Kyle's gaze, your eyes widening in horror as you realize the terrible smell isn't from this single creature. It's hundreds. A dark, grey mist that unfurls through the trees. A growing chorus of agony as their tattered bodies collide—some limping, others hurtling forward in a grotesque dance, but all converging on the meadow.

[plumipal]

AAAAAOMG UR TWST OC IS SO ADORABLE?? i'm absolutely in love with eden sm (+ his design?? the star eyes and the wings are my favorite,, i wanna smooch all his tattoos!) and i hope it's okay to ask a few questions about him... (I KNOW U SAID IT WAS OKAY BUT I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE 😭 i'm genuinely interested in knowing more!)

1) does he have anyone in the twst cast that he tolerates/likes? i know he's part of the whole harem thing but is there anyone he doesn't necessarily mind being around (or even sharing with the prefect?)

2) do grim and eden have a good relationship? i would assume so since they're living both with one another but do they just get along with each other for the prefect's sake or are they actually best buds? (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

(little dumb idea but i think it would be so cute if the prefect treated the two as if they were all like a little family! eden and prefect being the two parents and grim their rambunctious kid lmao,, i would imagine the others not being so happy about it (っ‘ω`c))

3) is he okay with physical affection/pda? is he totally chill about it or would he rather shy about the whole thing? is he open to having the prefect touch his wings or his tattoos?

4) oooo any funfacts that you have about the new ramshackle resident?? just in general really if that's okay with u ofc!! ☆

aa okay that's it!! i hope my questions weren't annoying or anything! (っ‘ω`c)

Had to get one of those wheels ive seen going around where you put the oc and how they feel about the character and how the characters feel back about them, but with a twist lol (most of them are haters).

The ones he are most tolerant with are grim, ace, deuce, jack and kalim. Only one he could possible share with would either be kalim, jack or deuce, because of how he sorta is annoyed by ace.

Of course cant forget how he feels about you :) he thinks you are very very very special and he loves you a lot <3

He likes grim a lot, seeing as grim isn't one of the students that is oh so annoying. He warms up to the monster, seeing how gently you take care of grim, wanting to do the same. It feels, domestic, in his opinion.

Grim likes Eden a lot too, he has never belittled him, he has always made sure to feed grim along with Eden being very warm (and therefore very nice to sleep on). In grims opinion, he thinks you should go with Eden, cuz he is a good candidate for marriage (grim has been bribed with love, affection, and tuna).

He takes good care of the cat son, making sure he is healthy and happy.

Now onto pda. Eden are only okay with you touching the wings, the tattoo and the core, being as they are quite sensitive. The scar is still off limits, but maybe if you make him warm up to you even more you might be able to-

He loves when you help him with his wings, it's one of the best feelings out there. Fo mind that only you (and grim) can touch the wings, anyone else is off limits, ESPECIALLY ROOK HE IS FORBIDDEN TO TOUCH THEM.

Eden facts!! He has lil "ear-holes" like birds, just behind the feathers. Be careful around that part when you help him with his feathers, otherwise you might have a pouty and angry Eden on tour hands.

His eyes also glow in the dark! It's the scariest during the nightly snack runs down to the kitchen, seeing him suddenly stare at you, but you slowly get used to it!

You don't know where the extra eyes sometimes come from tho...

Also some general facts about Eden!

Dorm: Ramshackle

Birthday: 1/1

Age: ???

Height: 185cm

Fav subject: alchemy

Hobby: cleaning in ramshackle, birdwatching

Likes: you

Dislikes: Loud noises, blond 3rd year hunters named rook hunt, people trying to grab onto his wings that aren't you

Fav food: he don't need to eat to gain sustenance, bur he likes mashed potatoes with gravy

Least fav food: soup, any soup, he hates it

Btw if anyone were to write for Eden I would explode it would mean the world to me

[save-a-forest-ride-a-bear]

🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ General Dating Headcanons ❛ ✧

Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Wyll & Halsin

# Note: content warning for very brief talk of abuse and general trauma back to navigation ´ˎ˗

🌿┊ASTARION

Talk about touch and attention starved. This guy wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it hit him in the face. Whenever you're nice to him or touch him without any innuendo, he's on edge. You must want something from him. Why else would you be doing this? It doesn't make sense.

Speaking of which, touching him out of nowhere usually doesn't end well. He has a tendency to flinch. He cackles and says he just thought he saw a bug, "Silly me," but you both know better than that.

He grows used to it, however. It just takes some warming up to. Eventually, the discomfort fades, replaced by a yearning so strong he swore he felt his heart beat again. When his brain realizes you don't want to hurt him and it's safe to be around you, he starts craving more contact. He's too prideful to ask, but he's not good at hiding it, either.

He loves any kind of compliment, don't get him wrong, but the ones that have nothing to do with his appearance seem to stick more. He's heard every single little praise possible for his face and body — but for his personality? For his mannerisms? If it ever happened before, he can't remember it.

Insists he doesn't like cuddling and only does it because you want to. But the one night you didn't, you woke up to him clinging to you anyway. He said he must've done so in his sleep, completely ignoring the fact elves can't sleep. Deception: critical failure.

Surprisingly protective. If you get hurt during a fight he goes ham on the enemy while yelling for someone else to take care of your wounds right now. He lost everything he had after Cazador — lost even himself to the hands of that sick, wicked man. He can't afford to lose you too.

The relationship started with him trying to manipulate you, sure, but that's not the case anymore. He cares. He genuinely cares for something other than himself for the first time in two centuries, and he's scared you still think you're being tricked by his charms. Again, he's too prideful for constant displays of affection, but he does say "I love you" more often than ever. Maybe if he says it enough times, you'll believe it.

He stares a lot. There's just something so endearing about seeing you in your own little world, oblivious to everything else, or at least oblivious to his gawking. It's the most honest part of you, the most yourself you could be, and he enjoys it from afar.

🌿┊GALE

So needy. You leave him at camp for a few hours and you come back to him acting like he needs to be sent to the seaside for his health. A year of living as a hermit does things to a man's necessities for attention.

Loves your scent. He doesn't share his clothes with anyone (that fabric is expensive, dammit), but he insists you wear them so that they smell like you later.

Despite being a cat owner, he's very dog-coded. Will do things with the sole purpose of receiving praise or kisses from you and gets extremely pouty when he doesn't.

Speaking of kisses, he takes any excuse conceivable to kiss you. Good morning, good night and good luck kisses are very much mandatory. Doesn't even have to be on his lips, he's more than satisfied with a cheek or forehead kiss as well.

He enjoys being taken care of, even if he complains. When you scold him for not sleeping over some ancient tome, he can't help but feel loved. Will return the favour, of course — especially if it comes to food. He's very insistent with the "three meals a day" thing.

Will read to you, there's no way around it. It's relaxing for both of you, so he doesn't see why he shouldn't. He also says he can pay attention better to the text when he says it out loud, anyway. You having your head on his lap as he does it is merely a bonus.

🌿┊WYLL

If this man has any flaw, it's that he's always trying to make every moment you spend together perfect and forgets to just lay back and enjoy himself. Even then, he only does it because of how much he loves you.

The last romantic! Goes all out with dates and gifts — fancy restaurants and the biggest bouquets you've ever seen. Money is no object when it comes to you. Truly a good old-fashioned lover boy.

Definitely has a saviour complex — the type to say "I can fix them" unironically. He just loved you and wants you to be okay, and if he has to drag you there himself he will.

Will go on rants about how smitten he is with you and how perfect you are on a daily basis. If you have to leave for the day, he'll write it as a love letter instead.

Always holding you close, but there's no possessiveness to it. It's a display of affection, not ownership. He's yours as much as you are his.

Loves taking showers together. Not for any sexual reason (though he wouldn't complain if things ended up going down that path), he just finds it incredibly intimate and genuinely enjoys washing your hair for you.

You're not just another romance to him — you're the love of his life, the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with, if the gods allow it.

🌿┊HALSIN

Despite the whole "Desire flourishes wherever it finds purchase" thing, he genuinely doesn't see himself falling for anyone else as he did for you. It's nice to know he could still indulge if he wanted, but for now, he doesn't.

Loves having his hair played with. There's just something so soothing about it. Or maybe it's his wild shape talking, asking for pets. We'll never know.

Always finds an excuse for you to sit on his lap. Again, not for sexual reasons, he just likes wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head or shoulder.

Even though he isn't one for commitment, he has a constant, extremely severe case of baby fever. He obviously wouldn't push you if you're not ready, but he does make his sentiments on the matter known.

Stepping dangerously close to smut territory with this one, but he loves how small you are compared to him. The way he engulfs you entirely when he hugs you or how your hand disappears under his as he holds it — it's endearing to him.

I cannot go without mentioning how good his hugs are. Like, seriously. He's so warm and gentle but still strong and it makes you feel safe. It's the best thing in Faerun.

Loves how you look like wearing his clothes. It ties into the size difference thing, since they just look huge on you. Also, much like Gale, he has a thing for your scent, so there's really no downsides.

[jensthwa]

mountebank chem pt. three (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 16.5k (dear god).

WARNINGS: eventual SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, this chapter is truly them being cute and barely fighting which is ???, healthy competition i think, they get a serious case of the silly goose at some point, mentions of drinking at some point, gyuri being an overprotective friend, meeting new people, emotional talk involving kids yall will see why, pet names (princess), descriptions of female and male anatomy, first kisses!! *the crowd cheers*, a little bit of dry humping... *the crowd boos* and unresolved feelings!!!! *the crowd AND y/n leave in angry tears*.

NOTES: hi everyone! here's part three of this mini series that is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE. so, so sorry it took so long but i had a bit of a writer's block these past months :(. there's mentions of the last installment plot so, if you're new around here, you can always find the rest of this series and the rest of the stories of this universe on my masterist! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 5th 2024.

masterlist - part one - part two.

There's this image of you that flashes across Yunho’s mind. 

It happened right before he fell asleep last night, too, and he's having a hard time figuring out if he only dreamed it or if it actually happened. 

The skin on your back glistening, the cut of the dress after he pulled down the zipper just enough to not be disrespectful. 

He did it out of instinct, out of the sudden familiarity he felt between you both. He did it because, before he had the genius idea of helping you with your dress (to get it off in some way, what the fuck is wrong with him), you were really close to his face and he couldn't think straight for the remainder of the time he was in your presence. 

There was a time in his life where the mere thought of you brought discomfort to him. It kinda brings discomfort to him now, too, but it's a different kind of discomfort. It's dull, it's confusing and it's angering at the same time because, if he was sure of something before, it was the fact that he never really wanted to be near you. 

You were the bane of his existence when you two were kids, something that was forced on him the second your parents wanted and he despises the lack of control and freedom he's always had around you. 

And now there's a flash of you genuinely laughing at him for blushing after the old lady from last night gave him some not-so-innocent compliments in front of everyone. There's a flash of you defending him when you really didn't need to, even if you stated otherwise. 

There's a flash of you wiping the corners of your mouth after finishing the food he made you, a visage that completely besots him. 

He never really wanted to kiss you. 

Only once, at your graduation party, but that was drunk him and playing spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven really did a number on his teenage hormones at the time. 

He remembers the bottle landing on the girl next to you and the guy next to you and the guy next to the guy next to you. Yunho kissed them all with the hope of kissing you at some point that night. Just because he was curious, because deep inside of him he knew your parents plans all along. 

He didn't get to do it, though, and so it didn't really matter; the wish died as soon as he woke up the next day with a huge hangover and a dry mouth. Yesterday, he thought the same would happen if he went to sleep and dreamed about anything but you. 

That, of course, didn't happen. 

Now he’s just left trying to figure out what the fuck is going on exactly as the memory of your lips and the sting of annoyance that follows the thought of him wanting you in any way other than fifty feet apart distracts him from whatever his friends are saying right now. 

“He lost his fucking mind,” Gyuri stands in front of him, hands on her hips and furrowed brows like a mother who’s scolding her troubled child. She collapses on the couch behind her a second later, next to her best friend who’s giggling at her and her reaction “He’s not even answering to me.” 

They called for an emergency meeting at San and Wooyoung’s place, as expected. He was supposed to see them on saturday anyway but now he gave the friend group a reason to hang out a day earlier. Seonghwa did too, but his story, apparently, is more interesting than the oldest sudden girlfriend. 

In a way, they both got out of nowhere partners. But the friend group is hanging out a day earlier than expected so he’s not really sure why he’s being reprimanded for something so out of his control. 

They don't know this is out of his control. Maybe that's why. 

Wooyoung takes a sit in front of him, on top of the wooden table separating the space between the tv and the couch and puts a hand on his shoulder, like a father who’s trying to be on his side of things without offending his wife “Care to explain yourself, Yunho?” 

He decides to play pretend so he doesn’t have to think about it more than he needs to “Explain what?” 

As Gyuri gasps, Woo shakes his head before dramatically hanging it low.  

“God help you, my dear friend.” 

Gyuri gets up again and Wooyoung gets up as well, stepping aside so he can give space to her to regard poor little him with the angriest look ever directed at an innocent man.

He thanks Mingi for opening the front door of the apartment right at that moment. 

Behind him, Mingi’s girlfriend, Yeosang, Hongjoong and Seonghwa follow suit. San is in the kitchen finishing the dishes and Jongho is at school, taking a quiz or something, he thinks. 

He didn’t really read the group chat like that. They just requested his presence and he spawned in the apartment half an hour later.

But he didn't take into account that he was seeing Mingi that day too. Mingi, his best friend for a few years now, the only person he should've actually told what was going to happen yesterday night. 

He fucked up. 

“Can you let the man explain himself, Gyuri?” Mingi asks, down on one knee and helping his girl take off her shoes. Yunho wants to roll his eyes but Mingi is, after all, head over heels for her. 

How is he going to explain to them that he’s not head over heels over his new, sudden girlfriend? That, in fact, he thought he despised her until yesterday. 

And that now he’s not able to shake her from his thoughts even if he desperately wants to. 

“What’s going on?” Seonghwa asks and Gyuri turns and points at him. 

“We’re talking to you after we talk to him.” She makes a show of her threat, her pointed finger moving to Yunho’s forehead and slightly pushing him back on his seat. 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and plops down on the couch, next to San’s girlfriend “Oh, my God.” 

“I’m sorry,” she tells him with a tiny smile “She’s freaking out today.” 

Wooyoung turns the tv on. His laptop is connected to it through a long, orange cord and when Yunho turns to the screen, it shows a picture of him and you with plastic smiles that look too real. 

If only people knew. 

“This is what’s going on,” he says, pointing to the image and then leaning into his laptop to click a new tab “The Jeong and Kim empires merge into one after their youngest announce they’re in a relationship at yesterday’s twenty year celebratory gala,” reading directly from the article, Yunho manages to cringe at the wording of it before Wooyoung turns to him “Since when, bitch?” 

Yunho opens his mouth to reply but both Yeosang and Seonghwa make a surprised noise. 

“Oh?”

“Isn’t she…?” Yeosang looks at him “Is she?”

He nods and Yeosang claps, mumbling a I knew it under his breath. 

“So that’s what she meant when she told me I looked familiar, she knows you!”  Seonghwa smiles a little and then his expression turns into a frown, like he just realized something he shouldn't “When did you start dating her?”

“Well, actually—”

“And didn’t tell us?” Mingi’s girlfriend looks very offended but he can tell she’s half joking, especially when Mingi smirks a little and then joins her with a pout. 

His best friend looks at him a second too long, though and that lets him know he might be a little offended. 

Mingi opens his mouth to speak but a choir of voices stops him from doing so and Yunho breathes out his regret for even showing up and for not explaining everything to Mingi first. 

“What do they mean ‘merge their empires’. Are you getting married?” 

“When did you even meet her?”

“Through his family, I suppose.” 

“Are you getting married?” 

“So did you cheat on her like two months ago with that girl from the bar?” 

“No, no, he didn’t hook up with the girl, that was Hongjoong.” 

“Sure I did,” he says and gives Yunho a look, like he doesn’t remember who they’re talking about “Yuyu, can I be the main groomsman?” Hoonjong asks as San returns with a snack plate on his hand and he takes it from him when he offers it, putting some chips on his mouth immediately “Hwa, too. We're the oldest, so.” 

Mingi scoffs “And I’m literally his best friend, don’t even try it.” 

“That’s literally me, oh my God? Liar?” 

Yunho is starting to feel a little overwhelmed by the amount of noise he normally would contribute to. 

Right now? He wants everyone to shut up while he finds a way of explaining everything and not sound completely insane in the process. 

It’s quite the normal concept, he thinks. Arranged matrimonies are a thing in a lot of cultures and in his it’s more subtle than anything, not quite what it used to be, but they’re still there especially for families like his. 

He’s not getting married, he should also clarify that. But as Mingi takes hold of Wooyoung’s laptop and scrolls through the article and then turns to him asking for an explanation with his eyes instead of his words, all the coherent sentences he just put together in his mind die on his tongue. 

Mingi is not really one to pry, but his stare tells him that he’s a little bit concerned with everything. After all, he’s the only one who understands the full complicated history Yunho has with his family. 

“Guys,” he says, all mischievousness wiped out of his face “let him explain and don’t interrupt.” 

The noise quiets down and everyone looks at him, expectant and curious. Now that he’s able to untense his shoulders and take a calming breath, he also notices a few concerned stares that join Mingi in the sentiment. 

Alright. Okay. He can do this. 

Yunho sends his best friend a thankful smile before gulping down his nerves. 

“That’s Kim Y/N,” he points at the tv screen, although half of your face is cut off because Mingi scrolled down to read “I’ve known her since we were kids, her parents and my parents are really good friends and her dad helped my dad launch his company, so we were… They were celebrating that yesterday.” 

Everyone nods and then he catches Seonghwa’s eye “My brother and her brother are very good friends, too. You know Soohyun hyung, don’t you?” 

“Oh,” he seems taken by surprise by that “he’s a new client.” 

“I figured,” Yunho smiles, “He’s a good guy, just a little…” 

“Carefree?” Hwa offers. 

“Mhm. Anyways,” he shakes his head, trying to get back on track “Jeong Tech made a huge mistake a few months ago and so they decided to announce our relationship yesterday to kind of… Everyone loves Y/N,” he says quickly “She’s… We—” 

“Are you two together or not?” Wooyoung asks, clearly confused and when everyone shushes him he mutters his apologies. 

Yunho wants to answer him with the truth. He really does and it’s right there, ready to come out, but he thinks about you. About everything you told him yesterday, about how you actually seemed to care to please your parents.

He thinks about his own mother’s threats. 

And he knows it’s a little stupid wondering if someone in this room would tell, but he hesitates. 

It hurts him to hesitate but then someone speaks up. There, curled around San’s arm and peeling open an orange, his savior speaks up.

“Relationship of convenience,” she says softly and matter of factly, turning heads in her direction “What? I could’ve told you this two hours ago,” she points at Gyuri and Wooyoung “But you refused to explain! Come on, everybody,” giggling, she offers a freshly peeled slice to her boyfriend. “I work with books for a living, you work with books for a living!” She points at Woo again, “This trope is classic,” and then she looks back at him with a kind and honest smile. “You two do look good together, though. Are you friends, at least?” 

He hesitates. You both definitely, sort of, made amends last night. But it's a little weird and, suddenly, also hard to explain. 

Yunho thought the word friends would've just rolled out of his tongue naturally, as a little white lie to ease everyone's worries. Now, it hardly makes its way onto it so he just nods after a long pause that definitely raises suspicion on everyone's face. 

“We've known each other for a very long time, went to highschool together and everything,” that seems to eradicate some of the doubts, because San grins and turns to his girlfriend with a knowing smile that she returns. 

Gyuri is not as convinced “But are you friends?” 

“Yes,” he returns immediately after that, wanting the conversation to be over. He’s not lying, not really, not after what you both said yesterday “We are, we’re trying to be.” 

“So you hate the bitch. Got it.” Gyuri nods. 

Yunho takes offense to that, oddly enough. Because no, he doesn't hate you, not a little, not at all. 

He thinks. 

Besides, he confirmed yesterday that you're not much of a bitch and it hurts that Gyuri thinks you are one, but San’s girlfriend it's already handling that before he has the opportunity to defend you like you defended him. 

“Babe, don't call her that.” 

Gyuri raises her hands defensively “I'm just taking preventive action! What if she is a bitch?” 

“She's not.” Yunho says and they both turn their heads to him, Gyuri with a frown and her best friend with a knowing smile. 

What does she know that he doesn't? Beats him. 

Instead, he settles “She's just… Well, she's—” 

“Intense?” Gyuri offers. 

Wooyoung shakes his head and points to his ex “No, that's you.” 

For once, he's glad their bickering interrupts him because he doesn't really know how to describe you. What's his current opinion on you? He has no clue. It's weird, he hates it a bit, but the feeling is there and the words are on the verge of spilling out of his mouth.

San’s girlfriend gasps and then murmurs an excited: “I love enemies to lovers!”

“I don't think real people can fit into fictional tropes, babe,” Gyuri returns, taking a slice she's offering in her direction before eyeing Yunho “Or can they?” 

That he can answer “We're not enemies and we're definitely not lovers.” He says with a shrug. 

“You're something way worse then,” San’s girlfriend nods and then smiles in excitement “Can't wait!” 

“For what?” Yunho asks in a whisper but Mingi, thankfully, interrupts. 

“Why are they talking about marriage, then?” He asks, his concern is palpable and Yunho feels kind of bad. He feels really bad, actually. 

He could have told him this, at least. He could have talked about you, but the truth is that his mind avoided remembering you if not necessary; that’s how much you two seemed to hate each other.

Now? 

It’s kind of complicated not to think about you when you’re plaguing his mind, infecting it like a virus. 

Or painting it, like the canvases he saw in your room yesterday. 

Do you paint? Is that something you like to do in your free time? 

Why does he feel like he knows very little about you, all of the sudden? 

He groans and then shakes his head. 

“There’s no marriage, they’re getting ahead of themselves,” he clarifies. 

“Is there going to be a marriage?” 

There's movement on the screen now and he sees Mingi’s girlfriend scrolling unapologetically through the article. She's watching a video of the both of you posing together for a picture and there's something that pulls inside of him. His eyes attempt to water but he manages to keep his emotions down, locked up because there's a lot of feelings he won't put on his friends. 

He's sure they think of him as a dumb puppy who's actually very academically smart, just a little clumsy with his social interactions. He's been pretending he is, anyway. 

The only one who really sees through him is Mingi but even him, to some degree, has bought his immature act. And to some extent it became real for Yunho himself, too, so deep fears and sad emotions are off the table. 

So he pulls himself together and turns to his friend.

“I think she has an escape plan if our parents decide to marry us off to each other,” he admits, snorting out a laugh that’s a little bitter but more amused than anything, he shakes his head “So no, no engagement, no marriage.” 

“Why, what's wrong with you?” Gyuri asks, eyes squinted with prejudice and suspicion “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“Well, that's not… Gyuri,” he opens and closes his mouth a few times, not really knowing what to say to his friend's question, so he looks at Mingi with begging eyes “That's not really the point, right?” 

“Don't look at me, she's right,” Mingi shrugs, “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“Because we're not in love!” 

Wooyoung scoffs “And yet you're a perfectly fine and rich young man, so why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“So we officially hate her, right?” Gyuri says and claps her hands before standing up again for the millionth time and heading his way. Her hands fall on his shoulders and he has to crane his neck to see her from below “Okay, then! What's the plan? Do we get rid of her?” 

“No!” 

“I could, if that's what you want.”

His head snaps at Hongjoong at the suggestion, disbelief writing on his face “I love you guys but the Yunho protection squad needs to dissolve right now, everything’s fine!” 

“Is it?” Mingi asks and Yunho takes his time to look at his best friend before nodding. 

“It is. We're supposed to break up eventually anyway,” air leaves his lungs in a long sigh and then he gulps a little, not really sure how to say what he wants to say without offending anyone. And Gyuri's hands are still on him, so the pressure doubles at the potential threat of physical harm that his next statement can get him. “Listen, I won't make any of you sign nda’s or anything like that because I trust you but please, please don't tell anyone this.” 

He looks around the room and sees wide eyes before they turn understanding and when his friends nod in agreement, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. 

Literally, Gyuri moves to sit next to Wooyoung who tries to put an arm around her and fails. 

“You're not that famous, Yunho,” Hongjoong kisses his teeth and the mood shifts into the lighthearted one he's used to “Unlike me. I'm a celebrity among my peers.” 

Wooyoung rolls his eyes “Yeah, because all the criminals turned music students turn guitarists of a nugu rock band worship you.” 

Hongjoong ignores him but his smile is tense and his eyes are squinted in fake joy when he speaks again “You are going to the gig tomorrow, right?” 

He laughs “Of course. I might be a little late but I'll get to see your set.” 

Hongjoong frowns “Why?” 

“I have a schedule now, so…” 

“Oh, my God,” San’s girlfriend squeaks, typing something in her phone and Yunho catches his friend fondly following with his eyes the sentences she's putting together “And what else do you have to do now?” 

“Babe, I hope you're not writing a story about this.” Gyuri warns but her friend ignores her and turns to Seonghwa. 

Who realizes right away what she's doing, gaping at her and her betrayal with feign hurt. Yunho gets it a second later and his lips curve upwards a little. 

“And what did you do to get a girlfriend so fast? It was the motorcycle, wasn't it?” 

Wooyoung gasps and Gyuri seems to remember suddenly that there were two important subjects to dissect on the table today, so she gets up again with her hands on her hips and stares at him like a distressed mother.

“What the hell were you thinking, Park Seonghwa? Girlfriend? You met her yesterday!” 

“Three days ago, but yes, maybe—” 

“Oh, three days ago! That's an eternity in dog years, right? Are you a dog, Seonghwa?” 

Seonghwa’s eyes practically meet the back of his head and Yunho has to stifle a laugh “Not a dog, Gyuri, just a guy.” 

She pauses and then makes a face. 

“That… Actually makes a lot of sense.” 

“We made the mistake of calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend way too soon. But, to be fair, his text messages woke us up,” Seonghwa's finger is pointing to Yunho and he pouts as a response “Kind of, so we were sleepy and—”

“Sure, let's hang out tonight so you can meet my girlfriend,” Hongjoong reads directly from his phone and shakes his head. Yunho can't actually tell if he's offended or not “Not even a warning first.”

“I literally told you about her and you told me to go for it.” 

“Did I?” 

“Yeosang was there.” 

At the mention of his name, Yeosang looks up from his phone and smiles shyly at the oldest two “Correct.”

There's a bit of silence and then Hwa clears his throat softly. 

“She's going to be my girlfriend though,” he says, almost in a whisper but everyone hears him “So I don't know what the big deal is.” 

Wooyoung slumps from the couch to the ground with his eyes closed in defeat “Oh, dear God.” 

“The big deal is that—” 

Gyuri's voice fades to the background and he catches Hwa telling her that she's not his mother or something before tuning the discussion out. 

When he turns to his left, Mingi is still eyeing him to make sure he's okay. Yunho nods and smiles and then offers his hand to him, which he takes. 

Mingi's girlfriend turned off the laptop and is watching the interaction with a tiny contempt curve to her lips and, when Yunho catches a glimpse at San’s girlfriend from behind his friends built form (she's completely hiding behind him from all the chaos Gyuri is bringing to the living room), she catches his eye and then blinks one of hers in complicity. 

Again, Yunho wonders what she knows that he doesn't. 

But with the attention off of him, your face returns to his head.

So he's not really able to concentrate on anything else for the remainder of the hang out. When he finally, finally has his mind occupied by something else (San dared him to beat him at Mario Kart and Jongho brought food and drinks as an apology for completing his academic duties instead of showing up to the meeting), a text pops up from an unknown number. 

+82-5-059-6733: Hey. Added your number  from that stupid group chat our brothers made because telling each other things through our assistants makes me physically ill, hope you don't mind.  +82-5-059-6733: Actually, I don't really care if you mind. If you block me, I'll find another phone to text you on. +82-5-059-6733: Anyway, I'll send you the address of where we're going fashionably late tonight. It's an early drive so you're free to skip this (Do skip it please).  +82-5-059-6733: Jeong Yunho, do not ignore me or I swear to God…

He hates that, after reading his home screen, he has a smile on his lips. You sound both formal and pushy through text, too and he didn't think it was possible to have so much personality that it filters through writing as well. He's finding out new things about you and, although he made it a point to ask you to get along yesterday, it still feels really weird to do so.

When he turns to the screen again, he's down a few spots and San’s character speeds besides his in its kart. 

“Is it her?” San asks, looking at him for a second, a knowing smile on his lips. 

“It is but I'm not smiling because it's her,” he defends himself but there's a tint to his cheeks that might give him away. San laughs “Shut up. Your girlfriend’s schemes are rubbing on you.” 

At the mention, he catches through the corner of his eye as his friend turns to the mentioned girl and Yunho smiles again before he hears him sigh, completely and utterly in love. 

“Thank God.” 

He recovers on the game while San is distracted, passing him and winning the race. The sound of it ending makes San snap his head back and watch as Yunho relaxes on the couch in egotistical victory. 

“Ugh.” 

The sun is shining through the clouds even though it was supposed to rain again. There's a singular gray one moving ominously among the other ones and threatening to mess up what you planned for the day. 

It suspiciously moves past you and into the city when Yunho's car pulls up the hill. By the time he gets down, the sun is shining in full force and you roll your eyes when he regards you and your closed arms with a wink. 

What does he gain out of this? You've been wondering since that night if coming here is better than staying at home for the weekend. 

He could stay at his dorm, though. Is that an option? The curiosity you feel towards him now has completely taken over. It feels disgusting. 

Either way, you hate that he actually showed up. That means someone, somewhere around you, is going to casually document the thing you kept to yourself for a long time. No because it's a secret but because there's no real need for anyone to know that you do this. 

Your presence on social media is scarce, you have one open account that you use every six months (if you remember to use it at all) and the one you stalk people of your circle on. You have a twitter account that's private and not under your real name, a youtube account that doesn't really count as social media in your eyes and nothing else. 

No one needs to know you do these sorts of things. Then, you wouldn't be doing it out of the kindness of your heart but to get sympathy points. Even though you'll always do it because you want to and not because you have to. 

There's a lot of things you have to do, like your relationship with Yunho, but never this. 

You know it's only like five out of one hundred people who wish you ill but those few people are enough to tarnish the affection the kids have for you, the trust you worked so hard to gain the few years you've been trying to make this orphanage somewhat quality-of-life acceptable. 

You stumbled upon it one of those drunk early mornings where you had to walk around to get the alcohol out of your system before even daring showing up home or near it. Not because your family didn't know what you were up to, but because of the possible photographers roaming around the house. 

A drunk underage daughter was worse than anything back then. Maybe it is now, too, but you remembered the mistake you made the first time you got drunk and the absolute reaping your mother gave you. 

So when you locked eyes with a middle aged woman in the middle of nowhere after walking around half an hour before in heels, your almost-sober self pretended to be lost just to talk to someone and feel safe. The sun was barely showing that day and you were cold and sad and angry for not controlling yourself at the party and it must've shown in your face because you saw the woman taking a deep breath before offering you to step inside. 

At that hour, the kids were asleep. There were traces of them everywhere, though and you remember the way your heart sank at the lifeness of the space even in the still hours of the morning. 

It looked lived in, enjoyable and cozy. You never had that. Toys were put back in their place the second you got distracted by the tv or a book or when your mother said that was enough playing around for the day. Your room was always neat and tidy, put together and devoid of any evidence that you were real. 

That has changed a little now, but back then seeing something you didn't have struck something within you. There was obviously no way you would complain about it out loud, though. 

You had everything solved, your struggle has always been insignificant when compared with everyone else outside of your circle. It's fine, it's always been fine and the tears brought to your eyes when the middle aged woman put a hand on your shoulder and consoled you when she saw the environment was affecting you meant nothing. 

You tried to convince yourself they meant nothing and tried to keep your heart where it belonged: inside of your tinsel bubble, frozen and harsh so that no one takes advantage of you.

And then she managed to melt the ice not even five minutes into explaining what it was that they did there. She said her position wasn't permanent, that the district kept changing directors and that the quality of life they were able to give to the kids was acceptable at best. Not good, not what they deserved. 

Maybe that was the first time you took advantage of your privilege for something good. Because next thing you knew, you were putting together a presentation and pressing your father to do something about the home. 

Your mother was scandalized but she agreed to do something with your ideas if your brother was put on the front of the newspapers, inaugurating the renovations made to the place. 

Saturdays have been destined to the orphanage since then. They know not to put anything else on your schedule for the day, they know not to film you or send photographers per your request. Because your brother was already seen making the good deed a few years ago, so there's not really a way to take advantage of this anymore. 

Besides, the district still manages it and no amount of volunteering can help the fact that its administration and the decisions that they make are as dumb as you believing for a second that Yunho was going to take your advice and stay home today.

Yunho being here changes things, you know it does. Why did they put this in his new schedule if not? You thought it was a punishment for him but now you're not so sure. 

There's lack of movement, lack of press, lack of your mother's touch to it so you wonder what's the angle here. And, as usual, Yunho seems to be in the dark about the things plaguing your mind. 

You point at his outfit in retaliation when he gets near you and your mother’s assistant, who became yours for the day. 

“Is this what you could put together with such a long notice?” 

“You said casual.” 

“And this is your casual?” 

At some point these past few days, and after seeing all the pictures of you two together at the gala, you came to terms with Yunho’s attractiveness. Objectively, he's a handsome guy. His dad was handsome at one point, his mom is absolutely breathtaking and his brother is handsome as well. They're just a family of naturally physically gifted people, alright? 

But it is kind of unfair that he can look this good in flared jeans and a white fitted shirt, for fucks sake. He looks like he just got out of a Calvin Klein shoot… If the shoot was somehow made in the seventies. The black belt and the black boots with a tiny platform he's wearing add to the whole look and your eye twitches a little. 

He looks really fucking cool, actually but there's no way in hell you would ever accept that. Handsome? Sure. Cool? Your mind is tricking you somehow. 

It's that warmth that invaded your body when he made you food a few nights ago making you think nonsense. You want to desperately get rid of it. 

He scoffs but a tiny smile tugs at his lips when he looks you up and down “Is this yours?” 

Looking down at your wide leg trousers, your kitty heels and your short sleeved cotton top, you fail to see where the problem is. 

“Duh.” 

He whistles, low and for a few seconds and for a moment you think he's doing it because of you and your heart beats erratically until you realize his eyes are fixed on the orphanage.

You smile a little. 

These past few years you've been able to get funding and provide funding to it, so the renovations just keep coming and coming. It doesn't look like the one you found refuge on that morning a few years ago at all and it definitely doesn't look like the one your brother had the chance to be photographed with either. 

Right now, it has a little bit of your touch: It looks like an elegant structure, but a building that's also suitable for children to be in. It has a playground vibe to it, the exterior and the design of the new entrance you approved a few months ago only solidifies it.

The kids love it. You didn't exactly run the design through them but it would've shown if they didn't. 

They're very expressive, but decisive too. Bossy, even. You look at Yunho and you want to smile fully because he simply doesn't know what he got himself into. 

That proves to be true as the hours go by. The kids raise their eyebrows when they meet him, say hi to him with a bow and then turn to you for explanations. When you say that this is a new friend that's going to be helping out that day, you don't miss the way Yunho lights up a bit besides you. 

And then that light is completely stolen by hour three, you see it as he chases kids around the yard. It hurts that they acclimated so fast to him but, again, when you got there the first time the place wasn't really one where they felt completely safe. 

This proves that you helped change that. Good. 

There's a few of them, the older ones, that sit on the ground and stare daggers at Yunho like he's going to hurt the younger kids at any moment. These kids were practically toddlers when you met them and they had a hard time being around you when you started to show up regularly. 

They barely spoke a word and, when they did, they yelled at you for not playing with the toys like you were supposed to, or because you looked too clean and too pretty to be messing with paint or something of the sort. 

It took months for you to build that trust and now the oldest is a tween with shaggy hair and a scowl on his face because he thinks of Yunho the same way he thought of you when he was just a kid.  

He barely notices when you crouch next to him, the hand you put on his shoulder making him jump slightly. 

“I understand the feeling of wanting to punch Yunho in the face,” you start, smiling and then tilting your head a little “but you're going to burn a hole on his back if you keep staring at him like that, Hyunjoon.”  

“Then why did you bring him here?” His frown deepens and you shrug “We were just fine with everything here and now there's a stranger playing tag with my little brother,” he shakes his head “I don't like it.” 

Sighing and then turning to Yunho, you see the exact moment his attempts to escape Haejoon, Hyunjoon’s little brother, are sabotaged by Hyunjoon’s best friend, Soyi. 

“I think you're a little jealous.” 

“What?” 

You want to laugh when his head snaps at you, chest heaving in preteen anger at the word jealous. 

“Yeah, not because he's playing with Haejoon but because Soyi is there too,” you shrug again, readjusting your crouching position because it hurts your legs but there's no way you're sitting on the ground “You like her, Yunho is handsome and you're jealous.” 

He turns away from you and you laugh when he makes a disgusted face that then turns into mild discomfort and ends up being a full pout.

“We're fighting.” 

“You and Soyi?” He nods and you sigh “What is it now?” 

“I dunno.” He murmurs with a shrug. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I don't know what I did! Okay?”

There's this uncharacteristically amount of patience you have when it comes to these kids that don't run out even if they yell at you and cause a few heads to turn your way. It never really bothers you except today, when you know there's possibly someone monitoring your movements. 

Yunho’s assistant, most likely. You know yours is compliant and doesn't really give a fuck about what goes on here, her focus on her tablet the whole time, probably arranging things for her actual boss (your mom). 

“Have you asked her?” He shakes his head “Then maybe start by asking her, later today if you want,” you rush to clarify when you see him tense up at the idea “Or tomorrow or the next day but don't let silly things get in the way of your friendship with her, hm?” 

His pout returns and his eyes start to water a little but before you have the opportunity to make him laugh the sadness away, someone jogs towards you both. 

“Everything alright?” 

Yunho’s sweating, he's out of breath and squinting his eyes because of the sunlight and it reminds you of when you used to cross paths during recess, back in highschool. 

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Hyunjoon sulks and scoffs at him and, once again, you suppress your laughter. 

“We're fine. Did you need something?” 

“No, no, Soyi just asked me to—” He stops when Hyunjoon's reaction gives away the root of his sulking and you see him glance at you once. You don't give Hyunjoon secrets away, though. “She asked me to tell you that she's going to start counting in two minutes and you are both obligated to play.” 

“Ah, yes, the mandatory hide and seek of the day.” You nod and watch as Hyunjoon's eyebrows raise in interest “Tell her it's okay, that she can start counting now.” 

Yunho raises his eyebrows as well, curiosity on his face “And you're hiding too?” 

“It's mandatory, Yunho. Do you know what mandatory means?” 

He clicks his tongue “I obviously do, Y/N, it was a simple question. Do you have to—” 

“Don't speak to her like that, ahjussi!” 

Once again, Yunho is interrupted by Hyunjoon and this time you can't help but laugh at the pure shock on his face. It warms your heart that a kid that was once so reluctant to have you around is defending you and you think your expression might give the feeling away because Yunho says nothing in return, just nods once and then presses his lips together, fighting a smile “I'll go tell her, then.” 

“No!” Hyunjoon gets up quickly and you do too, your legs and feet thanking you “I'll do it, she's my best friend.” 

It's the threatening (and very cute) look Hyunjoon sends in Yunho’s direction before sprinting towards Soyi and his brother that breaks the both of you into giggles. 

Only when your laughter dies down is that you turn to Yunho, arms crossed as you look him up and down to assess the real damage caused these first few hours.

No other reason. 

“Thought you said these kids were tough.” 

You shrug and he smiles “They are but you came here with me, so they're going easy on you.” 

“Yeah, I'm sure that's it.” Yunho nods and then turns over his shoulder. You do too, only to find Soyi with her hands over her eyes and counting already “Better don't get caught first, Kim.”  

Walking towards the spot you usually hide in when it's mandatory hide and seek time, you bump your arm with his in not-so-fake animosity. 

“You better not get caught, Jeong.” 

“Is that a dare?” He yells when you're almost out of reach. 

“I don't know,” you yell back “Is it?” 

You miss the way his eyes follow you until you're out of frame, until some kid whose name he doesn't remember grabs his hand and pushes him to hide because he stood in place long enough to almost get caught first. 

You do get caught in the first round but not before Yunho, so you count that as a win. The second round is trickier, Soyi banning some hiding spots like the natural leader she is, and so you get caught before Yunho. He does a little celebratory dance when he sees you in the yard before him. Ass. 

There's only one round left before they call everyone to clean up for lunch. 

Moving through the orphanage halls, you walk down the stairs that lead to the staff rooms before choosing one you know kids would not check if they don't caught you in plain sight: It's the one that has some panel windows on top of some lockers, to bring in some natural lighting because it was used as a classroom before.

Now, only boxes and dust live down there. But if you hide in the corner, there's no way you're getting caught before Yunho. 

You checked when you were upstairs. 

You giggle to yourself as you rest your back against the corner, taking your phone and unlocking it to find something to do while you await your very predictable victory in this pointless battle you and Yunho have going on. 

Only for it to be crushed when he enters the room and closes the door behind it. See, you obviously didn't lock it because that defeats the rules of the game. 

But maybe you should've. 

“Get out.” 

He seems startled when he hears your voice, clearly not expecting another soul to be there. “You blend so well into the wall, Y/N.” 

You don't bite the bait “Yunho, you're going to get both of us caught. Get. Out.” 

“How? I literally fit in here, too.” 

He gets into your space, a petty smile on his lips until your backside is completely flat against the wall.

You let out an indignant laugh and a breath at the same time because, from where you're shoved into the corner, he looks so dumb. 

And then the sunlight shifts a little and lands on his shoulder and you get reminded: You're going to get caught and it's going to be his fault. 

You want to yell at him to get out again but then hear laughter near the panel windows, so you whisper-shout instead “Find your own hiding spot, Yunho!” 

“I got kicked out of my last one!” He whispers-shouts back. 

“Well you can't have this one either!”

“We're going to be fine, Y/N,” he tries but at your scowl he laughs again “I'm perfectly hidden here and I'm hiding you.” 

“You're not perfectly hidden, idiot! You're like…” You move your hands, trying to replicate the broadness of his shoulders “You're huge.” 

“Yeah?” He seems pleased by your words and your eyes rolls on their own accord “I've been hitting the gym, so I'm glad it's showi—” 

“I don't care, get out!” 

You hear a scream and then laughter that follows it outside of the windows and your wide eyes peek around a little behind Yunho’s form to see what's going on. 

There, rolling on the grass and laughing hard, are Hyunjoon and Soyi. You see when she pushes him further into the ground and away from her, smiling like she usually does. She did seem a little sad today and you wondered why without intruding.

Learning about the fight made things click in your head and so now you're smiling wide because they potentially made up. 

The sound of someone gulping is what brings you back to reality and you crane your head up to catch Yunho staring at you with parted lips and soft eyes. Somewhere in the process of looking out of the panels, you ended up leaning into him and bracing yourself with your hand on his arm. 

You quickly keep your hands to yourself again, pushing your body into the corner one more time. 

“Sorry,” you say right away “I was just… They like each other and they were fighting today so I'm glad they, um…” You trail off. 

“Are not fighting anymore?” Yunho says for you and you're nodding frantically before you can help it “You seem better today.”

“Oh,” that catches you off guard and he notices, “It's never… It's never really as bad as what you saw a few days ago. You don't have to ask me about it.” 

“I didn't mean to… I was pointing it out to say that you seem different here.” 

“Different how?” 

“Relaxed,” he says right away with a shrug. “Less… Hostile.” 

You get what he's trying to imply. 

“I can't really be a stuck up bitch when I'm surrounded by children, Yunho.” 

“Never said you were one.”

Your eyes squint “But you were thinking it.” 

He doesn't back down at your accusation “I swear I wasn't. You could see it, too, if you stopped being so… defensive.” 

“I'm trying,” you kind of speak over him as he is finishing his sentence, your arms crossing in, well, defense “but your fugly jeans are provoking me.” 

This time around, he's the one that doesn't bite the bait. He smiles, leaning into your space with purpose this time; not because the corner you're both hiding in is small, not because he forgets who you both are. You can see it in his eyes that he means to do it. It's scary.

It's really not scary at all and it brings thoughts to your head that you need to put away immediately. 

You pretend it's bothering you, creasing your brows in order to bring to your expression the usual disgust you feel for him. 

“You like my outfit, I saw you checking me out earlier.” He murmurs like it's the most obvious thing ever. You, on the other hand, think you did a great job in concealing your staring for the day.

“I was judging you, not checking you out. You look like a hippie.”

He smiles but doesn't lean back at all “I have something to do tonight.” 

“So I heard,” and now you look over his outfit on purpose, as well “This fit is definitely a choice.” 

The usual spark that the arguments you two are used to have is there, but the actual nastiness and loathing of it all is mostly gone. Now, there's this weird pull that nudges you forward, your jaw set softly as you wait for his response. 

“It's a rock concert, I have to look the part.” 

You laugh and then nod “And so you dressed up as a greaser. Got it.” 

“So I look like John Travolta in Grease?” 

“More like Barry Pearl.” 

He scoffs “Who even is that?” 

“Exactly.” 

Your smile is nothing but pure bliss at the way you seem to get under his skin with that one. The anger crosses his expression, his eyes widen a little before roaming your face and you wait for his comeback. 

And wait. 

And wait. 

But it never comes. Instead, he leans in a fraction more than what your sanity can handle and keeps his voice low when he changes the subject.

“I had the opportunity to speak to Jiwoo earlier…” He starts and you nod, expectant and a little distracted by the smell of his cologne. “She told me everything you've been doing for this place. I had to ask her because you didn't tell me.” 

“You didn't ask.” 

“Would you have told me if I did?” 

It takes a second and a tiny smile, but you shake your head and he clicks his tongue. 

“See?” 

“I wasn't expecting you to show up in the first place,” you murmur back in your defense, sincerely, “and I'm not used to people seeing this part of my life.” 

Laughter and hurried steps outside remind you that you're in the middle of a game, in the middle of a dare with Yunho, too. But it doesn't seem to matter anymore. 

This is a weird way of having a genuine conversation, an odd place to have it in as well but there's nothing conventional about your relationship with Yunho. 

In a way, it's kind of fitting for you two. 

“Well, you got great reviews.” 

“Do I?” 

“Mhm, Jiwoo said she was about to be sent away when you stepped in,” he starts to recall, nodding to himself “Soyi also said she met you when she was little and that you were there when Hyunjoon and his brother got here for the first time,” this time, you nod and a tiny smile tugs at your lips at the memory “And I saw the way you were looking at the kids earlier, how you spoke to them… That's why I told you that you seem different here.” 

It's your turn to gulp and blink a few times, trying to measure your words. You know that you and him came to an agreement the other night, but it's still a little hard to be fully honest with someone you've tried to be so superficial and distant for a very long time. 

“I'm happy here,” you whisper back, taking in a breath. “I'm happy when I'm helping, it makes me feel…” You trail off, failing to find the right words. 

“Purposeful?” Yunho offers and your heart beats loudly at that, your stomach sinks at how accurate that is and he can see it in your expression, because he takes in a breath himself and closes his eyes for a millisecond “I understand.” 

You want to ask him how he understands it. Is it simply because it's something easy to grasp? Is it because he relates in some way? The breach in between you became a simple line the night of the gala and that line blurs the longer you stay amicable with him. 

It's dangerous because you can already picture him going away when this whole charade ends. 

You don't want to get used to the feeling of him making your heart beat this way. 

And hopefully you can forget all about it with the usual meal related anxiety you feel but even that is dull. It's not as bad here and Yunho knows so it's not going to be as bad with him either. Fucking great. 

If you someone would just interrupt yo— 

There's a knocking, persistent and that allows you to step away from him finally and glance at the panel windows one more time. 

Soyi and Hyunjoon are lying on their stomach, smiling knowingly like they understand what is going on in your head. Yunho steps out and they pretend to be surprised but you can tell they were expecting to see him here. 

“The game finished like five minutes ago.” Hyunjoon says and it's muffled by the glass but you can make it out just fine. 

Soyi nods and joins in, adding something as she stands up “Yeah, it's lunch time and if you don't hurry I'm stealing your food!”

At that, Yunho seems to react like he's a child himself “Don't even think about it!” He yells back, heading for the door and leaving you there with an erratic heartbeat and questions. 

Thirty seconds pass before you hear him again, his laugh this time and you close your eyes because the curve of your lips needs to go away before you step out there as well. 

Three more hours pass and at some point you don't see Yunho at all, letting him do his thing. 

Turns out, he's actually very good with kids. Considering he was a weird kid himself, you don't even find it weird that he's sitting on the grass with a worm in his hand and kids circling him like he's giving a masterclass. 

Kind of like they were circling you fifteen minutes ago, when you gave them a little painting advice. You started on a small canvas and your paint strokes look tired, probably because you feel that way, but you use it to pass the time even if their interest is now elsewhere. 

They have art classes here, you insisted on including them in their pensum as something mandatory, like science and maths. 

They enjoy it. A few of them want to pursue art in the future and that makes you really happy, even if you probably won't be around to see it or if they change their opinions along the way because, as dumb as it sounds, you were never encouraged by anyone to pursue what you liked. 

Maybe, sometimes that's enough. Planting the seed to wait and see if it grows into something fructiferous in the future can be what some of these kids need. 

Aside from resources and opportunities, of course. 

There's less activity in the room you're in and you're sure it's because the kids are tired. They're taking naps in their rooms, they're washing up for the night and you're dreading leaving this place. Your shirt it's dirty, there's paint on your arms and dirt under your nails and you don't want to catch the disgusted look your mother is going to give you when you get home. 

You fuck up the painting a little bit. Lost in thought, you barely notice when Yunho makes his way inside from the garden, a little girl secured around his neck like he's her father or something. You barely spare him a glance, but smile at her when he sits down besides you and she opens her arms and clings to you instead. 

Leaving the brush and canvas forgotten on the table, you make space for the seven year old in your lap “Hi, gorgeous.” you smile at her and her sleepy eyes “Did you have fun today, Jaemi?” And at her name, she punches you softly in the arm with her little fist. 

You're afraid she's too tired to commit to the bit. 

“Jaemi,” Yunho nods beside you and you look at him, “she didn't want to tell me her name.” 

“Then that's totally not her name,” you correct yourself and Jaemi smiles, sticking her tongue out to Yunho afterwards “Did you have fun?” You insist. 

“Yes, he was teaching us something about…” she pouts in concentration, trying to remember “Crickets?” she offers with her little lisp, turning to Yunho to confirm her words. 

“Cicadas.” 

“Yeah, that.” She turns to you, nodding “He said that they sing when it's about to rain and that made me happy but then he said that they also sing when they're about to die and that made me sad.” 

Looking at Yunho, you let him know with your expression that that's not something kids need to know. He just shrugs, smile growing when he sees how Jaemi hides on your neck, sleepy and comfortable. 

“And I told him what you told me about the worms,” she murmurs there and you pat her back, softly, but trying to tell her to stop talking. There's an embarrassed glow on your cheeks at what she says next “and he told me that he was the one who taught you that.” 

Eyes wide, you huff out a laugh and then clear your throat, but Jaemi speaks through her pout before you defend yourself “Is he your boyfriend?” 

“Oh,” her question is not weird but you've been avoiding answering it all day. Right now, there's not really a way you can evade it, so you just focus on your painting and nod “He is.” 

“He's smart,” she mumbles and when your eyes land on Yunho again, his cheek is pressed to his forearm that is pressed against the table. He's looking at you both with stars in his eyes and you want to kick him under the table “Like you. I want my future mom and dad to be like you.” 

Yunho pouts and you gulp, defensiveness abandoning your body and emotions swirling inside at the sweet, hopeful color of Jaemi’s voice. 

“People here are going to make sure of that, Jaemi,” you assure her in a whisper and by the time you rock her softly in your arms, you can tell she's asleep in them “I'll make sure you get the best mom and dad in the world, hm?” 

You don't know if you can keep your promise. If there's enough will for you to do it, if it's up to you to decide it. But you don't get to dwell on it for long. 

“Is she out?” Jiwoo asks and you nod, sliding back with your chair a little so that she can take Jaemi in her arms instead “I'll get her to the nap room. Sorry about that.” 

“It's okay.” You smile at her and she puts a comforting hand on your arm, shaking you a little on your seat before heading for the nap room. 

You don't dare to look at Yunho after that. Yeah, he saw your mother belittling you and, yeah, he made you food and wiped away your tears after having a panic attack… But that might've been the most vulnerable Yunho has ever seen you. Maybe. It felt like it, anyway. 

Returning to your painting, you forget what the orange blob in the corner of the canvas is supposed to be. From the corner of your eye, you catch Yunho staring at you still, unmoving from his position against the table. 

“How dare you steal my earth friends facts, Kim Y/N.” 

“You mean the facts about worms everyone learns in kindergarten, Yunho?” You scoff “Didn't know you trademarked them.” 

“You enjoy painting.” He says, a fact not a question, ignoring your jab at him and it's starting to get a little annoying how he changes topics so fast. 

“I'm not very good at it.” 

He gets up, scoots his chair closer to yours and you catch as his eyes move up and down your stupid painting “I don't agree.” 

“I didn't ask,” huffing, you squint your eyes at him and at your tone he rolls his eyes “Don't you have a concert to get to?” 

“Yeah, you should go with me.” 

That's hilarious. 

“I'm afraid I'm a little underdressed,” you tell him and you think he wants to laugh,  but presses his lips together and pretends to be offended at your words instead. You lean into the table, your eyes following his mouth as he stops pursing his lips, a tiny smile tugging on yours. “And I don't feel like pretending to be your girlfriend today anymore.” You whisper to only him. 

“You won't have to,” he whispers back, leaning in as well, “they know.” 

“What? You told them?” 

“They kind of figured it out.” 

“Hm, because you have no bitc—” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupts you, annoyed and you laugh, leaning back in your chair “Come with me. I saw your car outside,” he smiles and bats his eyelashes at you “I don't want my mother to know where I'm going, so you can drive me.” 

“Ah, that's why you want me to go.” 

“I also want to hang out with you,” his hand on your arm doesn't startle you but it does send sparks down your spine, his words causing your chest to go warm and your walls to go down “I thought we were doing that today and then I got kidnapped by eight year olds.” 

There's this image of Yunho that flashes through your head, the one of him running around the yard with people so dear to your heart that it makes the poor organ beat erratically for the second time today. 

Deflect. 

“And you managed to keep your ugly outfit clean. I'm impressed.” 

He lets out a tired breath. 

Deflect. Ignore. Don't let it fool you, Y/N, he's not staying this cordial forever. 

However, you think that as a thank you you can give in a little. Just a tiny bit. Just for tonight. 

“Do they have parking?” 

Yunho smiles wide. 

You would never admit you actually want to hang out with him, too, so instead you just say: 

“I'm driving you and then I'm staying for an hour,” he claps and gets up suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your chair as well “And if I don't like it there, I'm leaving.” 

He looks like he wants to say something but, instead, he just shakes your twined hands with excitement before letting go at the realization of what he's doing. 

“You might want to go to the bathroom first.” 

“Why? Where is the concert?” 

He says nothing. 

“Jeong Yunho… Where are we going?” 

They do not have parking. Not near the musty bar you're currently trying to make your way into, anyway. 

Yunho shows something on his phone to the bouncer at the entrance and then turns to you “My girlfriend,” he says, grabbing your hand again and opening his eyes at you as a signal to go along with his lie “She's also invited, obviously.” 

So long for not pretending to be together, huh?

You nod and you kind wish you didn't because it leads you to a small space with a crowd that's bigger than what it can host. There's heavy drums and amazing vocals coming out of the speakers and you actually recognize the guitarist of the band that's playing. You don't know his name, but you definitely saw him in pictures with Yunho before. 

Grabbing Yunho’s arm when he lets go of your hand, it grants you the brief grace of his stare. 

“I'm sorry about that,” he says and then his eyes are on the stage again, smiling at the band. His height works wonders because you can tell he's actually able to see them fully and the next second you're being pulled across the crowd and up some stairs “They didn't expect me to come here with anyone tonight… And don't say it's because I have no game, Y/N, or I swear—”

“You made it!” 

When you let go of Yunho’s arm and stand shyly behind him as they let the both of you into the very humble vip area of this bar, it's like the pictures you've been staring at for months come to life. You don't know names (only Park Seonghwa’s, who's glued to the balcony’s rail, jamming along to the music) but you do know their faces. 

This girl that greeted Yunho with a hug just now it's in almost every picture, smiling just like that. And when she turns at you, that smile disappears and it's replaced with one that's not genuine at all. 

Great. 

“Oh, hi to you too,” she says and her eyes alternate between you and Yunho “I didn't know you were bringing your fake girlfriend tonight.” 

You don't know why, but the way she says it ticks you a little bit. 

“Yeah, me neither,” Yunho’s arm is around your shoulders now and you have to fight the urge to shove him away, like a second instinct “This is Y/N, Y/N this is Gyuri.” 

“It's nice to meet you,” returning her energy, you smile coldly at her too, “I've heard nothing about you.” 

Yunho's hip connects with yours in a silent warning. 

But instead of the usual hypocrisy you're met inside the crowd you move in, you're greeted with something genuine: At your response, Gyuri looks you up and down for what feels like a minute and a half and then that fake smile turns into a genuine one. 

“Okay, I get you,” she nods, laughing to herself when she turns to Yunho. You do too and the color has been drained from his face, at least a little bit “I'm glad you're here. I guess it is meet my girlfriend night,” her head cocks to the side, to where Seonghwa stands and you're a little relieved you don't have to ask what she's talking about when, besides him, you see the mechanic you didn't get to meet earlier this week. She turns to you again “Do you want a drink?” 

“Oh, I'm driving, um…” You look at Yunho “I don't know if you—” 

“No, let's not drink tonight, though if you want to we can call—” 

“No, that's not necessary, I don't feel like—” He interrupts with a nod. 

“Gotcha.” 

The nervousness is palpable and, although you didn't really feel anything the hour and a half it took you two to get to the bar (Yunho didn't really let you, bickering with you about your driving or the decor of the car or the tinted windows or whatever he could think of to annoy you), but now you you notice it. 

The way Yunho's fingers tap on your arm, his around your shoulders still. The way he doesn't really know what to say when you both turn to Gyuri after speaking over each other like that and the way you can't bring yourself to be hostile to him in front of his friends. 

It's a little pathetic. You think Gyuri thinks so too, and the long-haired guy next to her as well because they're staring at you stoically, unmoving. 

“So I'm taking that as a no but I need a drink now. If y'all excuse me…” 

“H-hi, Woo.” 

“I thought we got rid of this when San and Babe got together,” he sighs as Gyuri turns around and leaves for a table, offering you his hand with a wink. You can tell he's a little drunk but the way he shakes your hand brings out a genuine giggle out of you “I’m Wooyoung, Yunho’s best friend. I bet he already told you that, though.” 

No, you want to tell him, you and him haven't been able to talk like that yet. Even after knowing him for over ten years and spending holidays together, you don't know his best friend's name at all. 

And you start to nod just to skip explaining that but Yunho speaks and ruins your plans.

“Mingi is going to kill you if he hears you say that.” 

“Say what?” A tall man stands next to Yunho and only when he hugs his shoulders is that Yunho lets go of you “Are you talking shit about me, Woo?” 

Wooyoung genuinely sulks“I wouldn't dare, Mingi.” 

“You must be Y/N,” Mingi ignores him and you want to laugh at the expression he makes in return, but you busy yourself taking the hand that Mingi's offering “I've heard so much about you in the last forty eight hours.” 

“All terrible things, I'm hoping.” 

“Well—” 

“Okay, okay,” Yunho pushes him away and takes your arm again, giving his actual best friend a look “Let me introduce you to everyone else before Wooyoung makes a scene for the night.” 

Over your laugh, you hear a faint gasp and a I don't ever make scenes! shouted on Wooyoung’s side of the room. 

You were never shy but you fall a little quiet in the middle of these strangers because the one thing you realized right away is that there's no actual need to pretend here, in the dim light and with people who don't give a fuck if your posture isn't perfect or that you're not making small talk. 

It's a little freeing. 

That weight falls off your shoulders and you kind of get why Yunho is a little clueless about how things work in your world after talking to San and Mingi’s girlfriends for a little. 

It truly takes everything in you to keep everything you share about yourself in shallow waters. 

You tell them things they might've already known, things that can be found online about you. You tell them that you met Yunho when you were little, you tell them about your job when the girl that Park Seognhwa chose above going to the gala with you joins and then you direct the conversation to her instead of you. 

They tell you about Yunho’s college life, the parties and the embarrassing moments that you've missed all while he talks with his friends about something, all against the vip balcony railing while they watch the band perform. Gyuri is there too, arm to arm with Wooyoung and they tell you they used to be together. 

It shows, especially when you get up to join Yunho and watch the performance and she snuggles a bit closer to Wooyoung to make space for you. 

Even if there's plenty of space already. 

He looks at you when you bump into him, smiling and leaning into your space a bit to talk over the music “There you are. I thought I lost you to girl talk!” 

You roll your eyes.

“Your friend's are nice.” 

“Normal people usually are, Y/N.” 

Scoffing, you focus on the main vocal of the band. The only girl up on the stage, too and you convince yourself that's more interesting than the way Yunho seems to sparkle when he's with his people “Well, that explains why you're everything but nice.” 

He laughs “I am nice, just not to you.” 

“No, yeah, trust me, I know.” 

“You seem quiet around them,” he turns to look at the girls for a brief moment “And you're usually, obnoxiously loud. Everything alright?” 

You know he's asking about your panic attacks. Yes, you feel fine. You took your pills with your lunch and, considering the small space you're at gives you brief anxiety, mixed with the general nervousness of being with people you don't know, it could be worse. 

But, like you said, his friends are nice. 

You don't exactly fit in this group, but they make you believe you're a part of them at least for a little while and you know your friends, or the people you usually hang out with when you go out, wouldn't give a stranger the chance if presented with it. 

“I'm fine, I'm just… Intimidated.” 

“You just said they are nice, Y/N.” 

“And they're all very good looking, which is unfair and nerve wracking,” you add with a scoff and hear him giggle before you turn to him again. “You said you wanted to hang out with me but it's been forty minutes and you barely said anything,” you give him a look, “so you just wanted the ride, hm? Asshole.” 

“Needy,” he returns, pushing you with his arm, “I also wanted you to meet them. They're a huge part of who I am and I know it’s not this way for everybody, but I do believe you can gather who someone is if you meet the people they surround themselves with.” 

What does that say about me, is what you want to tell him and then his words from a second ago cross your mind. 

It's not this way for everybody. 

He knows and there's something so deeply fucked up about his understanding of you because is not supposed to be this way. You hate Yunho, he hates you and keeping each other at arm's length has always been the norm. 

It baffles you how quickly he can leave his preconceptions of you behind and open the door to his comfy bubble, invite you in and make you feel welcomed where you otherwise don't belong. 

He understands. It makes you smile and he smiles back, close to you both physically and emotionally, and so you're sure you don't need to add anything to this moment you two are having. 

Instead, you shake your head “I don't know why they hang out with you, then,” you turn to the stage one more time and there’s some tension between the band all of the sudden. You don't ask, Yunho is not paying attention to them right now anyway “I still think you wanted the free ride. Send me the gas money when you get home.” 

“When you take me home.” 

“No, you're walking back,” your fingers take a hold of his forearm, pinching it and gaining an exaggerated reaction to the mild pain it causes back from him “asshole.” 

“And get him again for me!” Wooyoung shouts to your left and you both turn to see almost everyone staring at you. 

It's almost enough to make your cheeks burn. Almost. 

When it's almost time for you to go home (the hour you said you were staying turned to two hours) and the band gets down the stage, Seonghwa sits beside you. 

“Did you paint over it?” Is the first thing you ask him and he frowns before understanding. 

“The tree in your brother's office? Nah. He said we should keep it.” 

Your brother has no taste. 

“It's a horrendous tree, Mr Park,” you insist, shaking your head when he makes a noise to disagree. “Please be sure to take it down at some point, behind his back if it's necessary.” 

“Miss Kim,” he starts and you realize whatever he's about to say, it's not about that goddamned tree, “when you asked me to go to a party with you, was it the gala you and Yunho went to?” 

He's direct and blunt and you are grateful that he addresses the topic straight ahead instead of walking around it like the girls did. 

You nod “Yes, I wanted to say I had someone to go with so they wouldn't force Yunho and I to…” 

“I understand.” 

“I'm glad you said no, though. She likes you a lot,” you point to his date, she's jamming along to a rock song you don't recognize in the slightest with Hongjoong, who just joined the group in the vip area with the rest of the band. The vocalist it's missing, however and you wonder where she went, “And you like her too, so that's good. I'm glad.” 

“And you don't like Yunho?” 

The chuckle that bubbles out of you comes out a little more nervous than what you intended “He's, um… An old friend.” 

“He told us you were trying to be friends,” he says and you blink, wondering what else Yunho told them, “but that's not what I'm asking.” 

“I know what you're asking, I know what some of you think it's going to happen,” your eyes land on Yunho, his arm around Hongjoong and they're both laughing at something Mingi said. There's that pull again, your chest feels heavy with something you've never felt before “but it is not going to happen.” 

Yunho catches your eye and smiles, says something to his friends and then starts making his way up to you two. 

Seonghwa, instead of getting offended at your very direct refusal of his intentions, just laughs at you “Famous last words, Miss Kim.” 

“Paint over the stupid tree and I might reconsider your point, Mr Park.” 

He opens his mouth to say something else but then Yunho interrupts, a hand on your shoulder. 

He's so touchy. You never actually took into account if he enjoys physical touch or not, but his hands are always on someone.  On you, when you're close to him. 

“We're leaving.” He says and he's talking to Seonghwa, not you. 

“We all are?” 

“Nope, just us. Princess has a curfew.” 

“Aw,” you place your hand on top of his, pretending to be moved, “yes you do!” 

Harshly but also half-joking (you think) he moves his hand away and turns around “I'll be waiting for you downstairs, you witch.” 

You watch him say his goodbyes and flash you his middle finger before, effectively, going down the stairs. Laughing as you stand up, you return your eyes to Seonghwa “Stop it.” 

“I'm just saying—” 

“Shut up.” 

Seonghwa laughs again and you say goodbye to everyone, Mingi giving you a look that reads as be careful with him and you want to clarify that nothing is ever going to happen. 

But some of them think otherwise. 

When you get downstairs, the crowd overwhelms you all over again and, just when you think Yunho might've actually left you, there's a hand that closes over yours. 

The hand spins you around and Yunho comes into view with his lips curled upwards into a teasing smirk “This way, princess.” 

Suspicious (about the fact that he's navigating the crowd towards anything but the exit, not about his flirtatious ways), you tug at him to make him stop “What are you up to?” 

He ignores your question, moving fast and through a deserted hallway where music doesn’t really get through and, after that, he opens a door that leads to the back of the musty bar. 

“Are you bringing me here so I can get robbed, Yunho?” 

He huffs out a laugh, kind of offended but not really “Obviously, Y/N. It wasn’t because someone was taking pictures of us all night at all.” 

His hand is on yours still as he drags you to the streets and to where you think your car is. You’re grateful he’s holding you, your heart dropping at his words. Not because people can’t know you came to this bar, or that you’re with Yunho, but because someone recognized you and you didn’t notice.

You always notice.  

But this time, you felt so comfortable inside a bubble that isn’t yours that you allowed someone to disrespect you like this. 

Worst, disrespect someone else who’s supposed to be with you like this. 

“Are you sure it was us and the person wasn’t taking pictures of Hongjoong? He’s kind of the buzz around here, Jeong.” You try to joke to calm the beating of your heart down, swallowing hard as you get to your car. 

Your hand shakes a little as you press the buttons to unlock the doors and, by the time you get into the car you’re sweating. You feel the moisture on the back of your neck like a warning, it tells you that you need to calm down before actually getting on the street but Yunho’s words don’t help at all. 

“That's what I thought but then I realized the phone was following you.” 

“Great,” you gulp again, starting the car and turning on the ac just to have something to distract you and your hands. "You didn't have to leave with me, though. You just needed to tell me and—” 

“We’re together, aren't we? At least to them, we are, so leaving together it's the least they expect us to do.” 

Expect. You hate that he's right, that he was able to think rationally and you hate that he regards the situation you're both in with a little more maturity than a few days ago. 

This turn in his personality is overwhelming to say the least. There's only so much concealing you can do before it shows that you're starting to care about him genuinely, beyond the pr and the arranged relationship.

“Thank you.” You mutter after a few seconds of silence where he checked his phone. 

He looks up from it a few seconds, smiles at you a little and then returns his attention to the screen. It takes a few seconds of the ac blasting in your face and the sound of the keyboard of his phone to return you to the ground, panic dissipating when he looks back up again. 

“Are you sure you don't want to sneak back? I don't mean to steal you from your friends, Yunho.” 

“You are my friend, princess.” Without really wanting to, your nose scrunches at the corniness of the statement and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t make that face. Look, I was searching online for the pictures or videos they might've taken at the bar and I found this.” 

He turns his phone and although your panic went away, the feeling is replaced by a little bit of anger: It's a picture of you both, Jaemi in your arms, her face covered by your hair and shoulder. Yunho is staring at you both sweetly, like you remembered he did and you are mid sentence. 

It's not the face you're making in the picture that upsets you, it's the fact that someone took that moment and posted it online for everyone to see. 

“You don't like it.” He says and you take a swing of air before replying. 

“I do like the picture, I don't like what it means,” and he's about to ask what you mean, you see it in his eyes but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don't like that they took that moment away from me, from us.” 

You don't know why you say it like that but you do, there's this emotion laced on your voice that, a week ago, you would've fought to keep away from him. He was never supposed to see any of this. In fact, no one was supposed to see any side of you that wasn't perfectly crafted to their liking, to your mother's liking. 

Yunho getting to know you like this wasn't part of your plan. So you ignore the sting on your chest at his pained expression caused by what you say next. 

“From now on, let's not allow them to take moments away from us. Let's meet when we're scheduled to, during the week and not on weekends and—” 

“Let's go.” 

“Yeah, I'll take you home and then maybe we can tell our moth—” 

“No, no. Just… Let's go here,” he tips and taps at the screen of your car, placing an address inside the gps you're unfamiliar with, “and then we can go home.” 

Confused and in a surprising complaint mood, you start to back out of the parking spot. At the questions written all over your face, he simply places a hand on your knee and squeezes there. It does nothing to calm you down but it does distract you for a second. 

Which is bad. Cause you're driving and all, so you bat his hand away with yours and he laughs at the dead look you send his way. 

“Where are we going?” 

“I want to show you something.” 

“Jeong Yunho, are you sneaking me into your dorm room?” 

“Shhhh.” 

A finger on your lips is the only thing you get as a response before he pokes his head out, into the badly lit hallway of what you can only presume is his dorm room. 

His digit is replaced by your hand because you're trying very hard no to burst out laughing at his very specific change of placement. He sprints to the wall in front of you and moves his hand, urging you to follow his footsteps. 

You do, only much slower than what he intended, you guess, because as soon as you're on his reach he grabs your arm and collides his body with yours. His lips near your cheek when he looks down, his words a whisper. 

“The cameras are old and they don't catch fast movements that well, so we have to run.” 

It takes five good seconds to try and contain your laugh again before replying: “Okay… Mister Bond.” 

His face falls. “Y/N, I can get in serious trouble for bringing you here.” He deadpans and you nod, fast and unserious. 

“Yeah, no, I can totally see that.” 

“I hate you.” 

You smile all the way up to his room, his anxious behavior a little strange because, well, you see a girl casually exiting a room on the base floor as you go upstairs. She's flushed and giggling as she types on her phone, so you don't understand what big deal is. 

Especially when Yunho all but shoves you into a room you can only assume is his, your kitty heels almost making you trip with the shoe rack by the entrance. 

“You're the most dramatic person I have ever met, Jeong.” 

“Hall monitors are a thing here, Y/N and I don't want to get banned from the team!” 

“What team?” 

Now that you think about it, this does seem like one of the dorms reserved for sports teams in the school you graduated from. This one is smaller, definitely not as luxurious and allegedly has a faulty security system but that's besides the point: there's banners and posters on the walls all the way from the entrance to this room that kind of smells like soju and beer. 

“The dance team!” He says as you step further into the room. 

“I didn't know you dance.” 

There's enough space for two beds, two desks that are pressed together on one corner of the room, in front of one of the beds, giving the illusion of being one cohesive piece of furniture when it's not. In front of the other bed there's a corner mirror and a bedside table with old energy drink cans and one unopened, undrinked water bottle. 

“I didn't know you painted until recently.” 

“I don't,” you argue, throwing your purse on one of the beds before Yunho takes it and places it into the other one. You assume that's his. "You are allowed to have a dorm here for shaking your little ass on stage a few times, Jeong?” 

Your teasing makes him frown but you can only smile at the reaction, arms crossed as you take one more look around the room. 

“I do more than shaking my great ass on stage, princess. Besides, this makes me somewhat very independent from my parents,” he shrugs “And I'm close to the campus. It's a win, win situation for me.”

“Yeah, I'll give you that.” And it's true: you can't really argue against being away from your parents. He's lucky he's able to do it, least to some degree. “You still have to go to your house on weekends, no?” 

“Yeah,” he sighs and when you return your eyes to him, he's making his bed. He looks a little ashamed of the state he left the room in when he catches you staring. “But I think I can allow myself to stay here on weekends now, too, considering they forced me into our little… Arrangement.” 

“Yeah, because your mother is all but allowing you to do things this week. Really, Yunho, don't test the woman’s patience.” 

He frowns at you “What side are you on?” 

“The side where we get scolded the least until this whole thing is over, Yunho!” 

“Look, I understand that you care deeply for your parents approval and we've gone through this already this week but—” 

“But what?” 

You hope the look you send him makes him choose his words very carefully. You don't think it gets the message across when he takes a breath and shrugs. 

“But at some point you're going to have to let go of that, Y/N, you're clearly not happy.” 

“Stop caring so much about my happiness, Yunho.” 

“We're friends, that's what a friend is supposed to—” 

“Oh, stop that.” 

He looks taken aback by your interruption and your tone, but the whole leaving the bar because someone was taking pictures of you knocked some sense of reality into you and now you're upset. 

You don't want to scream, you don't want to fight with him because today has been so good. Good to you, good to him, good to people who are dear to you and to him, but it's so hard. 

It's hard when he understands some of it but not the full picture and it's hard when your walls are down, your feelings are on your sleeve and your words spill out of your mouth without a second thought. 

“We're not friends, Yunho. We've never been friends, we were not brought together to be just friends and you may think otherwise because you have the opportunity to live like this,” you point to his bed, “and go to bars and concerts and make noise within the crowds because you're tall and attractive, not because of your last name but I am never going to have that.” 

Feet moving to their own accord, you cross the space as you speak, until you have to look up at him and that pained expression you saw before heading towards his dorm is back, that pained expression he gave you back at the gala when he found you in that room, that pained expression he had when he fought with his mom in front of you. 

You hate it. Not because he might be in some sort of pain, but because it makes you feel bad that you are the one that's causing it. 

“I am never going to have this, Yunho. So yeah, I'm unhappy and bitter and sad and I've developed a whole panic disorder because of it but that's just what—” 

“God, you're impossible.” 

What? 

“W-what?” 

“‘That's just what it's meant to happen’. Is that what you were going to say? ‘That's just the way things are’,” he mocks and that hurts you but he doesn't back down even at the way you physically recoil at his words. 

He moves to the floor, knees hitting hard as he drops and looks for something under his bed. 

You don't need to be here. But before you announce that you're leaving, he does something that ignites your curiosity: he pulls out a box. 

A box with the name of the highschool you attended together in it. You have that box, or at least you think you do, somewhere in the storage of your house where no one can find it because, like almost everything in your life, there's no happy memories in it.

You're not sure if there's happy memories for Yunho, but the way he harshly opens it and rumages inside to find something specific tells you otherwise. 

“The other day, after seeing the canvases in your room, I tried to remember if you liked painting,” he starts and gets up, a mid-sized blue photo album on his hand with the name of the school and your classes slogan engraved in gold on the side, “I tried to remember things I'm supposed to know about you, because we grew up together, Y/N.” 

His reminder makes you gulp. 

“I've tried to distance myself from you as much as I can because I never thought that we would need to get along and— No, no, I never thought I would want to get along with you but now I do and so I went home and I stole this from my mother's office.” 

He opens the album and, at first, you only see pictures of him. Him at his graduation day, him at that one soccer event where he almost broke his nose, him at the school yard with guys from your class you barely remember and then he gets to a specific part of the album. Instead of a picture, there's a card with beautiful handwriting that reads your name instead. 

“See, I always hated that my mother seemed to adore you. She doesn't have any daughters, so I thought it was a way of living that through you and that your mother was a little weird for allowing it to happen, but I was wrong,” he hands you the album and you scowl a little at the pictures you see of yourself, pictures that you've never seen before tonight, “And so, when she asked me to take pictures of you at school events she couldn't attend or your parents couldn't attend, I did it because of that. But I realized recently that she never wanted this for herself.” 

There's a picture of you at a piano recital where you came in third because you sucked at it. There's a picture of you on stage, on school assembly day, accepting a medal for your academic excellency. There's a picture of you next to the school’s art gallery, where you were able to display the canvases you painted throughout your senior year, at your teacher’s insistent request. There's a picture of you in the art gallery, someone you don't recognize or don't really remember is talking to you, their hands pointing at an abstract piece you did. 

It's the only picture where you're genuinely smiling. 

You trace the picture caged with the protective film of the album with the pad of your finger, softly, over that smile and wait for it to disappear but it doesn't. 

You look at Yunho, eyes almost teary with confusion and sentiment. 

“She never wanted this for herself because, although she loves you, she doesn't care about any of this when you're already the perfect match for me in her eyes” he smiles a little, his finger joining yours on the page. “She doesn't care if you got third or first place here, she doesn't give a fuck about your academic achievements and she definitely doesn't give a shit if you're an artist or not,” his finger connects with yours, over your immortalized smile on the picture “but I do.” 

Your head starts to shake, your mind starts to reject his words right away. He cares? About you? No, no. It can be, he— 

He's nodding, stepping close and letting his eyes move away from you just a millisecond so he can stare at the picture “If it makes you this happy, I do. And I did, I don't… I don't remember exactly everything I thought about you as I took these pictures, Y/N, I was probably very annoyed,” he laughs a little and you do too, softly, barely, “but I probably cared back then too, I just… Well, what I'm trying to say is that you can be happy, you can have this and—” 

You don't know what does it. Is it his speech? This whole I was supposed to hate you but I don't think I ever did feeling that washes over you, like some sort of light in the midst of a very long period of darkness? Is it the lingering curve of his lips as he looks at your face in that picture and then back at you with stars in his eyes? Is it the way his finger brushes against yours shyly, like he intended to do it but he's not so sure how you would react to it? 

Is it the way he looked at you this afternoon, while Jaemi was speaking nonsense into your hair? Is it the fact that, at some point during the drive, you looked over and saw him smiling at his phone, at the picture that stole your moment with him this afternoon? 

What exactly prompts you to shut the photo album, let it fall to the floor and close the distance between your lips is beyond you but, if you're being honest with yourself, it doesn't really matter. 

Kissing Yunho feels like defiance, like rebellion against yourself and your principles and your values. It makes your heartbeat happily against your ribcage and that's, maybe, what makes you pull away from the close-lipped encounter. 

He just told you that you can be happy, but your mind can't just accept it so easily. 

Also, he didn't exactly kiss you back. 

His lips are parted when you look at him again, his pupils going all over your face like trying to get ahold of what the fuck just happened. 

This is so embarrassing. 

“I shouldn't have done that,” you start, in a whisper, tiptoes going down until you're back from the clouds on the ground. “I'm so, so sorry. I'll leav—” 

Briefly, you wonder what makes Yunho grab the side of your face and kiss you back, this time with a foreign emotion pouring into the kiss that you, somehow, feel equipped to return as your lips move in tandem with his. 

You wonder if what makes his free hand move to your waist and press you flush against him is, in any way, motivated by some sort of pity. 

His tongue brushing softly against yours for the first time makes your insecurity go away. It makes everything else go away, including that alarm inside of your head that tells you that you're making a mistake. 

It’s blasting red, dangerous and irrevocable red, but you think you confuse the color of it with the blush on Yunho’s cheek when you push a little onto him and he falls to the bed. You confuse the sound with the sigh that he lets out when he pulls you to him and your first instinct is to sit on his lap, leg on each side of him, hand fisting his shirt as you capture his lips again. 

His warmth engulfs you when his arms go around you, press you into him again and settle you further into his lap so you’re not awkwardly hovering over it anymore. There’s this need that takes over you, struggling to come up to the surface. You think he feels it too and, when your hips move out of pure want, he opens his legs a little more. 

Adrenaline rushing through you, making you confuse the sensation for pure euphoria, it takes two more thrusts into the material of his jeans for you to come to your senses. 

What the hell are you doing? 

Your heart races, for a different reason now. 

What the hell do you think you’re doing? 

Panic rising, you push Yunho’s shoulder with your hands, pulling you both away from the kiss completely. He has a pout on his lips, swollen from your kisses and flushed pink. They look very inviting, and although there’s a part of you that wants to give in, there’s the other side of you, the louder side, that’s telling you to think clearly. 

Giving into Yunho, is giving into your mother’s wishes fully. Giving into Yunho means she won. 

And Yunho thinks you are able to be happy one day, the words you cut off still ringing in your mind and they cover your fears with hope you never felt before, hope that you didn’t think you deserved to feel in the first place. His kisses had that taste, too. 

But you don’t think you can let your mother win.  

“Dinner.” You manage to say, untangling his hands off your waist, using them to help you up and off his lap.  

“W-what?” 

“It’s almost nine, I have to go to dinner with my brother.” You fix your shirt, tuck your hair behind your ear and bend over him to grab your purse before clearing your throat, “I know the way out.” 

“Y/N, don’t—” 

“I’ll see you next thursday.” 

When you sprint out of the room and close the door behind you, you already want to go back in. 

But running is sensible, it’s what you’re supposed to do. 

It doesn’t matter that hot, angry tears are wetting your cheeks. 

It’s what’s best for everyone, including him.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[yeetwinchester2]

Skipping Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary: Y/N had been struggling with her ED lately, but the team doesn't know that. Its getting worse... can she keep it from the team? Can she keep it from her mission partner?

Warnings: Eating Disorder(s), mention of passing out, angst, worry, some fluff

a/n: Yes! The long-awaited part 2!

-------------------------------------------

The morning following the incident, each member of the team asked you at some point how you were doing. Some even asked what had happened. Of course, you said it was nothing, that they just caught you off guard or that you weren't feeling well. But these excuses will only last so long. Another incident like this can't happen if you want to keep this from them. On the other hand, it made you feel good. Knowing that you were working so hard to look thin, and passing out meant you were pushing yourself.

Days go by, and with each one, you grow more worried that they know. Its all starting to add up, so you do little things to play it off better. Occasionally eating light snacks in front of others, or talking about what you “had for lunch.” Adding small details about your day, that will help cover it up.

---------------------------------------

"Has anyone else noticed something different about y/n?" Bucky says with some concern in his voice.

"She's probably just recovering after that mission. It really took a toll on her. We all feel a bit under the weather after a rough one." Tony replies.

"No, its not just that. I noticed it a little before the mission too. I don't know what it is, but something's not right." Bucky might not like her, but he knows her well. They go on almost every mission together. As much as he wishes it weren't true, the pair work well together and Steve was right. They are the best of the best. Her going down on that mission was out of character and has to be more than just 'feeling under the weather.' He's gonna figure it out. Bucky isn't sure why he feels such a need to figure out what's going on with y/n. He tells himself its for the betterment of the team, but is that all it is?

"We'll keep an eye on her. Don't stress it too much. I'm sure she's fine." Tony says reassuringly.

------------------------------------------

You're getting dressed to go down to the gym for a good workout. Looking in the mirror, you're motivated to change what you see. No matter how little you eat, how healthy it is, or how much you workout, it never seems to be enough. You're never thin enough. The only thing you can do is push harder. So, you put on a pair of basic black sweatpants over your leggings, and a matching sweatshirt over your long sleeve top. Maybe you should be sweating more. It wouldn't hurt to try. Covering up yourself helps too, so at least you don't have to see yourself.

You make your way to the workout room, starting with a leg workout to cut away at those thighs. Next is a core workout, because no one likes a stomach. Lastly, a nice treadmill run. The run really puts the cherry on top. You were feeling good until the last 400 meters of your 2 mile run. You were getting the good fuzzy, lightheaded feeling. the feeling that proves you're working hard. You make it to the end, nearly falling over, but proud of the workout.

Content with what you've accomplished, you make your way back to your room for a hot shower. But before you make it there, someone stops you right at your door.

"Hey, y/n. Can I talk to you for a second?" He says it firmly, as if it wasn't a question.

"Sure, what's up?"

"What happened during the mission? What made you fall out like that? That never happens." He keeps his voice firm.

"Oh, I just wasn't feeling well. I'm doing better. It was just a off day kind of thing." Just stay cool. You weren't feeling good. That's all it was.

"Y/n. We have been partners for a long time now. I know how you perform when you don't feel well. That wasn't it. We can't help you if you don't tell us what's going on." He seems genuine, speaking with softer voice this time.

"Really, Buck. I'm fine. Thank you for the concern though. I've go to get a shower now. I'll see you later." You push past him, making your way into your room. Now you're getting nervous. Bucky is catching on. Who else has noticed? Surely the others haven't noticed it. But what if they have? Do they care enough to say anything? No, its got to be fine.

--------------------------------------

In your bathroom, you lock the door. Turning on the hot water while you prepare for a hot shower. The kind that makes you dizzy and weak after a long day. You strip naked and pull out the scale from under the sink. Stepping on it, scared to see the number. You look down to see a number you're still unsatisfied with. Feeling defeated once again. You look up to see yourself in the mirror, picking at all the places you look too big. All the places you want to be thin.

Eventually, you step into the shower and wash the worries away.

--------------------------------------

Knowing that you were going to be in the bathroom for a while, Bucky took this as an opportunity to do some investigation on his own. He peeks into your room and verifies that you are in the bathroom and hears the shower water running. He steps into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He knows this is intrusive, but its got to give him some idea of what is going on. He snoops around a bit, but only finds your regular day-to-day items. He gets to the opposite side of your bed, where he finds a small, pocket-sized journal laying in the bedside table. He opens it, to find your daily journal entries. Quickly closing it, he debates on what to do. This is your personal journal and this is private information, but this could also tell him what is going on. Maybe even how to help. He takes a seat on your bed, and opens the journal once more. He finds the days' entries before the mission, thinking this will be a good place to start, and begins reading.

--------------------------------------

You turn off the shower water, satisfied and complete with your shower routine. You step out and dry off with your favorite, most fluffy towel. You wrap yourself in the towel, then wipe down the foggy mirror to look at yourself once more. Still feeling defeated, you step out of the bathroom, ready to slip into pajamas and get into bed.

But instead of finding an quiet, empty room, you find the one and only Bucky Barnes reading your journal. The journal that no one but you has touched. The journal that you pour your heart and soul into.

You stand there, in shock. Who knows what he's thinking right now. Who's knows how much he's read, or what all he has read.

--------------------------------------

Bucky looks up at you, just as shocked as you are.

"Y/n.." He has tears in his eyes, but he doesn't get up from where he is sitting. He just looks at you with an expression you've never seen from him. "Doll, why haven't you told anyone?"

"You really shouldn't be in here right now. Let alone going through my stuff," you reply, walking to take the journal from his hands. You close it and stuff it in a drawer, away form him. He stands, slowly stepping towards you.

"I know what's going on, y/n. I noticed a while back, but you've just confirmed it for me." He points towards the drawer holding the notebook. He continues to ignore the lack of clothing on your body. It is the least of his worries at this moment. Your health and well-being matter more to him right now that seeing you with or without clothing. "I know I haven't been as kind to you as I should have. You've been nothing but good to me. This last mission made me realize that. Seeing you laying there, helpless, it hurt. Please talk to me, let me help you." The look in his eyes and the expression on his face is nothing like you've seen before. Except once. You saw this look on him once before, when he brought you back to the jet.

After so long of doing this alone and keeping this to yourself, you break. You bring your hands to your face to hid the tears that stream down. He wraps his arms around you, his rough hands on your back. You wonder what he thinks of you. You've always been fond of him for one reason or another. There's no telling what he thinks now. Is he disgusted? Does he think this is stupid? Does he see you now the way that you see yourself? All you get through the soft sobs is a quiet "I'm sorry."

"Darling, what're you sorry for? Let's get you some pajamas and then we'll talk." He pulls away, but leads you to sit on the bed. He steps to your closet, grabbing a set of pajamas, handing them to you. "I'll step out while you put these on. I'll be right outside, just come get me when you're done." His tough, rugged demeanor is long gone. This is a side of him you never knew existed.

To be continued...

-------------------------------------------------

A/n: Yes, I finally wrote a part 2. Will there be a part 3? Who knows. I did write this in one night, so forgive me if it isn't up to your standard and if there are typos. I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what you think!

Tags: @yve-barr , @hoseokslefteyebrow , @yoruse , @opheliabarnes , @bbymelsworld , @sketchygirlslipstickboys , @loki-laufeyson68m , @lovechuumorethanu , @that-girl-named-alex , @soggycheetoparty

[raikkxz]

ᯓ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⑅ walk him like a dog 2 ✯ jb22 .ᐟ.ᐟ

★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no ﹚ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘﹕﹙in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙purpose use of lowercase letters only, not sure if there's gonna be another part, use of y/n, black-cat!reader, golden-retriever-ish!jenson, past-playboy!jenson, lowkey-past-toxic!jenson, VERYY light angst [i think], probably not well proofread, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙icba checking but it's not much at all imooo fjdkjfdsjfkla﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙part two who cheered !?﹚

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JENSON COULDN'T HELP BUT look at the red bull racer's sister eating her lunch with some of her co-workers. she fit right in and right away, even only after a week. she was smiling. oh, her smile. it was different than how she smiled with her brother. how jenson would do anything to make her smile that genuine smile she had with her brother.

"staring at my sister, huh?"

jenson whipped his head around to see sebastian vettel. he opens his mouth then closes it as he sees the fellow driver's raised eyebrows.

sebastian's cold face cracks into a grin. he throws his head back and laughs. "you should have seen the look on your face!"

jenson grumbles under his breath.

"alright, all jokes aside, please don't play with my sisters heart." sebastian puts a hand on jenson's shoulder.

"why would i ever-" jenson starts as he looks at him, but seb raises his eyebrows.

jenson purses his lips. "i.. alright, maybe you're right and i'm sorry."

seb sighs softly. "i'm just looking out for my sister, alright? i love her very much, with all my heart. i don't want to see it broken. i don't want to see *her* broken. just please, promise me."

"i promise." jenson nods sternly.

〜

days after days, you and jenson had formed a friendly and healthy relationship, in which you both hoped would never be ruined. every time you laughed or smiled, you didn't know the thoughts lingering behind the eyes that shined when you did so. you've opened up more and more, finally showing the fun side of you.

jenson hoped to keep it that way. he hoped that your friendship would never be ruined. he'd never felt this way before, and he didn't know whether you felt the same way or not. being the infamous playboy he was, of course he didn't want to break your heart like he did to the other girls. he made a promise to your brother, a promise he could and would never break. you were too dear to him, too precious. he didn't want to break you. he vowed to, with all his life and heart, and he would never admit that to anyone or to himself.

so from then on, he kept it a secret. a secret he couldn't bear. and little did he know, that you on the other hand, was starting to catch feelings too. and you would never admit that to yourself either.

you both had fallen too hard to ever want to break your relationship. your personalities might be polar opposites, but the way you both want to keep your loved ones close and protected was a trait you shared.

jenson, the infamous playboy he was known as, obviously had toyed with a 'few' girls hearts. he's not one to think before he acts. he's the outgoing, social golden retriever.

you were oftenly known is the black cat, and the studiouss quiet kid. you were known by everyone, but not exactly popular. you plan out your movements carefully, always one step ahead. perfect match, honestly.

but further more, jenson made you feel special. you wanted to deny that feeling that made you think, 'he probably gives this treatment to every girl.' but oh, how you were wrong.

he would never offer to carry an item that weighed less than a pound for the 'other' girls. ("here, let me help you with that." "jenson, i can carry it, it's fine!! it's literally just a-" "no, please just let me help." and of course you had to give in to those helpless eyes. that effect he had on you made you weak in the knees.) he would never buy the 'other' girls special and thoughtful gifts. ("please, darling, this is my treat." "but jens-" "i said it once and ill say it again. my. treat.") he would never follow those 'other' girls around like he did to you, like a dog on a leash. ("walk him like a dog." seb snorted. "shut up!!" you muttered, feeling your cheeks get slightly red. jenson rolled his eyes, continuing to follow you neverless.)

it was never those 'other' girls, who he never even talked to anymore ever since he had met you. it's always been you. and from then, it would never change.

★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i MIGHTTT take some blurb and part requests for this series, so ill lyk if i do!!﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud @somebodyonce-toldme @44lewico﹚

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notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!

!! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK !!

[valenteal]

I think Dazai’s relationship with Atsushi is the only truly healthy one he’s ever had…

As much as Atsushi looks up to and feels like he owes Dazai, he doesn’t really put up with his shit. He doesn’t ignore or dismiss Dazai’s self destructive behavior but he also doesn’t judge or coddle him for it. He isn’t afraid to call Dazai out or acknowledge his flaws and he doesn’t listen and obey him blindly, unless he is in an immediately dangerous situation where hesitation could mean death. He doesn’t really let Dazai push him away either, he remains a stable source of comfort, someone Dazai can always rely on to help him.

All of Dazai’s other relationships, even Oda, had toxic aspects, some more than others certainly but still. Dazai can never trust Kunikida to accept him, Dazai’s entire being goes against his ideals no matter how much they may care about each other. Oda was always accepting and he was reliably there when Dazai needed him, but he’d also given up on Dazai to an extent, he didn’t actively try to help him at all until he was dying, he was kind of a passive person in general and even admitted that he wished he’d done more for Dazai. These relationships are not incredibly harmful, only damaging in subtle psychological ways that likely impacted Dazai’s self worth and his ability to feel comfortable or known. But still. Not healthy.

With Chuuya and Mori it’s quite a bit more obvious but I’ll explain how I see it anyway.

Dazai’s relationship with Chuuya, as much as it’s defined by mutual trust and respect, is poisoned by Dazai’s controlling behavior toward Chuuya. There are not one but TWO canonical instances where Dazai orchestrated the loss of Chuuya’s entire support network, during the 15 arc and in Storm Bringer. Neither instance was solely because he wanted Chuuya to himself but it was a motivating factor and the result was the same. Except of course Chuuya didn’t really blame him either time because he was able to deflect the blame onto Mori and Verlaine. But Chuuya isn’t unaware of Dazai’s role in either case, and he doesn’t forget. And Dazai doesn’t want to be so close to Chuuya. He doesn’t want someone to know him so well or to grow an attachment that he thinks will only end in pain, and he pushes Chuuya away violently when he remembers that. The thing that makes it toxic is that he forgets when he spends time with Chuuya because he just genuinely really likes him and enjoys his company. They are both each other’s only peers, in both rank and intellect. As much as they fights it, that means something to them both and it tied them together when Dazai was still in the mafia. And that’s not even touching on the rivalry between them, which isn’t inherently toxic but certainly has the potential to be, especially when paired with everything else.

And now we get to Mori. Dazai’s guardian, doctor, boss, and partner in crime. The man who saved his life more times than they can count. The man who gave him purpose and meaning in his life. Who brought him and Chuuya together. Who was responsible for Oda’s death. Who lied to him, used him, planned to kill him. Who trusted him, confided in him, shared his secrets with him. Their relationship is so complex, and in different circumstances it could have been very healthy. Mori truly cares about Dazai, and I think Dazai cared for Mori in return. It’s impossible to spend so much time with someone, share so much, without growing to care for them at all. And Mori and Dazai are so similar, they naturally understood each other and agreed with one another for a long time. One incident soured their relationship. But it still wasn’t healthy before that. Mori was using Dazai, putting him in a position no child or teenager should be in with little regard for his mental health. He still presumably gave Dazai drugs, though we don’t know what kind I think it safe to assume they weren’t regular antidepressants or anxiety prescriptions. Might have just been weed, but I doubt it. Anyway. Point is, Mori treated Dazai like an adult who was allowed to make their own terrible decisions, but took it a step further and pushed him towards those decisions for his own gain. Yes he cared about Dazai, and no he didn’t force him into anything, but he was irresponsible and manipulative all the same.

Anyway, I am once again writing an analysis on Dazai’s relationships in the middle of the night when I am supposed to be asleep. I have a Problem. Hope my sleep deprivation didn’t affect the quality lol

[xo-cod]

https://www.tumblr.com/xo-cod/729110250731520000/you-know-what-i-think-would-be-cute-if-one-of-the?source=share

will u expand on this pls?? esp w simon i love it it's SO CUTE🥰

thank you so much babe :") <33 i just did simon but i can def do the others if you'd like 🤍

continuation from here

cw: abusive past + fluff

"look daddy! that's like you and mum!" her soft laugh of happiness fills his ears and for a minute he just watches her, the shock plastered on his face and then he takes a glance at the tv again. the toys he was placing away in its rightful place was forgotten as he straightened his back, watching the disney characters. they seemed so happy, so in love.

he stood still for a minute, wondering if she was being genuine as he looks back to the little girl who was giggling at him. he didn't have a healthy childhood at home and even as he entered his adult life, nothing but blood, guns and wars surrounded him.

it took him by surprised that lieutenant ghost, the man who knew little to nothing about love and happiness and peace now had a wife and a baby who was growing up in the homes he always wished he could live in as a child.

the only romantic love he could see around him was the abuse his father put his mother through, watching the light dim from her eyes everyday was a sight simon didn't think he could ever forget.

there were some scars that were seared so deep, even after time had run its course the pain was still fresh as ever. he didn't think he would ever heal from the shackles that wrapped themselves so deeply around him, burdens that he had to carry day in and day out in his life all the time. even though being with you had significantly lessened them, there were still moments that made him question everything he ever knew.

so being a father was scary but so exciting. the nerves were bundled up deep inside him, utterly worried that he wouldn't be able to love the child like they deserved. he remembered the night he paced your hospital floor while you were sleeping, full of the medications they were giving. all he could do was helplessly look at you, his heart pounding at the bundle of joy soon to be arriving. could he love them? or did the trauma from his father run incredibly deep that he'd cower away and hide? they were irrational fears, he knew that much. but it didn't help either way, he wanted to be the possible father ever. but how could he do that when he was do broken from his own?

and then his baby was born and he almost gave out, trembling when he held her tiny tiny body in one arm as the hand of the other ever so gently caressed her head. he looked at you with shock, his big brown eyes tearing as he chuckles softly. that was a sight you'd never forget. a sight he could never either

"me an' mama huh?" he spoke softly, his gaze going from the tv to back to his daughter who nods eagerly at him. she's so happy, its enough to make him emotional. because of him, she was safe and loved. because of him, a man who thought he was too damaged beyond repair, had a child who completely adored him and was living happily

she would never know a life full of abuse and suffering, he would make sure of that

he would kill for her, die for her and everything in between yet even so the small niggling voice of doubt filled his head every damn day wondering if he was cut out to be a father. would he change tomorrow, become the abusive intoxicated asshole like the man raised him was? he grew up in a world full of pain and torture and guns, happy things were far and few between.

"you little munchkin, c'mere" he teased softly, holding her in his massive arms as they both cuddle close together. she shrieks in delight when he blows soft raspberries on her cheeks and kissing her forehead. and he only looks at his baby with a look of pure unconditional love, his smile widening at every happy sound she made. even if he never got the love he deserved as a child, the love he received from you and the baby you both created was enough for him.

it was times like this, moments that he cherished so close to his heart <33

[yuutakuns]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

I have been thinking very deeply about Yuuta in a relationship. I know ultimately he's a cutie that is just the sweetest to his partner but I'm sure we can all agree that there is something so dark and twisted in the way he loves.

Yuuta is the kind of partner that feigns contentment. If you're happy, then he's happy. Or so he thought. It's not that he's unhappy, no, he is extremely happy. But it is exactly this happiness that he cannot let slip and get away. It is because of his anxiousness that he feels he has to grasp for you closer and closer. More than anything, he just wants to be with you.

Content Warnings: MDNI (minors do not interact), 18+,toxic relationship, manipulation, possessiveness, dub-con, cervix fucking, creampies, size kink(ish), afab reader (genitalia mentioned), idk I’m a degenerate, kinda proofread kinda not

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

It starts with little things.

Yuuta tries so hard to be understanding. He knows it's not healthy to be this obsessive. He knows that it's no good for you and it's not good for him. But it's times when you're out with other friends or making time for other people when he feels his heart twist and turn wretched at the sight of you smiling with others. It's this nagging insecurity that eats at him.

When you tell him you made plans to hang out with Yuuji and the others this coming weekend. Yuuta smiles.

"That's great. I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun hanging out with Yuuji! I know you'd prefer to be around someone a lot more positive than hang out with me more than you need to."

Of course Yuuta knows that this is not at all what your intentions are. But he can't help but feel relief in the way your smile drops and your face tinges with worry.

"Yuu- What? No- That's not at all why I'm going out with them-"

"It's okay. You don't have to explain. I know what being around me too long is like. I wouldn't really want to, either."

It's conversations like these that make Yuuta feel like you two are meant to be.

The way you are so willing to drop everything for him, to decide that it's fine. I don't at all mind being with you again this weekend! I don't have to go out. Let's stay in together, I don't want you to feel left behind.

He thinks you're too kind for your own good.

It's little things like this that build up. The way you start to become more isolated from everyone else, telling them sorry, I have plans this weekend or oh, I can't make dinner tonight after all. It's when you choose Yuuta over anyone and everyone else that his heart soars.

It's when you become completely and utterly dependent on Yuuta that he smiles the brightest.

You can't go on without him. If for some reason you do go out alone you know that he's texting you, calling you, or even showing up to meet you. He's everywhere. It's only to make sure that you're safe, of course. You're useless without him. Who knows what trouble you could get into. It’s better this way.

It's when you agree to move in with him. It's safer to be close to each other, and now Yuu doesn't have to go out to your apartment every night to check on you. You're safe right beside him. You don't think you've ever seen him happier.

"It's okay, you'll always be safe when I'm here. So that's why, I'll always follow you wherever you go," Yuuta hums into your ear as you drift off to sleep, dreaming of cold fingers slithering up your body and pressing on your neck as you lay paralyzed. You always wake up in a sweat, fear coating your brow. You chalk it up to a case of stress getting to you.

It's strange. The closer Yuuta and you get the farther you wish you were from him. But if it means Yuuta is happy, then why should you complain?

It's nice to see him smile so widely. You know that he's always been the lonely type. Maybe he just needs to be close to someone for once, to feel genuine security and love.

That's what you remind yourself anyway, as you let Yuuta use your body to satiate his hunger.

Yuuta never used to be so rough. Sure, there were times when you'd try something new or indulge him in an act. But this was something else entirely.

Big fat tears stream down your cheeks as Yuuta rams his thick cock into your pussy. It was a tight fit, as usual.

Sometimes, Yuuta takes it slow and preps you nice and sweet. It reminds you more of the old times when things were a little more simple. But sometimes something possesses Yuuta. You see it in his eyes. It's dark and empty, like a black hole wanting to swallow you hole.

You sob as Yuuta fucks into your dripping wet hole, nails digging into your soft thighs as your tits bounce up and down from his thrusts. Yuuta grunts softly, breath shaking as he drills into your pussy, smiling as he watches you make the most fucked out expressions. His cock was so fucking hard, he felt so happy being so close with you. Being so connected with you. He loved feeling the way your walls clenched around his dick, the way your cunt milked him.

You didn’t really want to have sex tonight. But you felt so guilty for rejecting Yuuta. He always looked so hurt when you said you weren’t up for it. Your heart ached when he asked, “Do you not want to be close with me anymore? I’m sorry if I did something wrong. I always mess everything up.” He always knows how to get under your skin.

You moaned as Yuuta stretched out your gummy wet walls. He always knows how to open you up, how to own you completely.

“S-so good. Your pussy is so good. Always so so so good for me. Do you like that? Am I making you feel good? Tell me.”

You sobbed, your cunt clenching around his cock in the most delicious way. “Yuu- I can’t- S’too much— You’re too much—“ You managed to choke out, eyes rolling back whenever his tip fucked into your cervix. You felt his dick twitch at the sound of your sobs.

He was in so deep, situated between your open legs. Your legs held up over his shoulders as he bent you in half. You could feel his cock as your walls clenched around him, your slick dripping and squelching as he fucked into you. It was so lewd.

You covered your face with your arms instinctually as tears prickled out the corners of your eyes. You were so overstimulated. Yuuta slid his hands over your body to move your arms, holding each down on the side of your head. You couldn’t even have this.

“Look at me, don’t hide. Ngh- I want to see you. Wanna see your pretty face— Ah, show it to me. Show me what’s mine.”

You looked up at him, vision blurred from all the stimulation. He looked down at you, expression adoring as he continued to mercilessly pound into you. You moaned. He was your Yuuta. Your sweet precious Yuuta. Your love, your light. How did it become like this?

Yuuta grunted. “ ‘M close— so close. Can I cum? Can I cum in your pussy? You’re so good baby. You take me so good. I love you. I love you so fucking much. I wanna own you. I wanna be closer to you. Let’s become closer, yeah?”

He maneuvered his hands to grasp for yours, entwining your fingers together as he rammed erratically into your sopping cunt. You cried out soft little moans as you felt his cock piston into you.

You were also close, pussy clenching around his cock. “Yuu- ‘m close— so close, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me baby, cum on my cock. Give me everything. You belong to me. Everything you have belongs to me.”

You came hard, eyes fluttering shut as slick spilled out everywhere onto the bed. You felt so spent.

He let out a sigh as he humped into your used pussy, cock twitching as he released his load into your cunt. He filled you up, made you whole. His cum dripped out of your pussy as he made himself comfy on the bed, still inside of you. He held you close, nuzzling into your neck.

“I love you. More than anything.”

“Yeah.” You sucked in a shakey breath, “I do too.”

[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

Eury lives au + Eury x Poseidon

Inspired by @anerdyrat Circe! (Not really Circe is still there) Eurylochus au and @caramellcandy villain au!

TW: Mentions of amnesia and isolation

Say, Eurylochus actually survived the lightning blast and Poseidon just takes him in. Mostly to manipulate him into being on his side and go against Odysseus. Turns out, it wasn't all that hard. For the first three days, Eury was in and out of consciousness due to the lightning blast colliding with his head and body three days before.

Poseidon had his maids tend to the new lightning scars and just care for him until he woke up.

When he fully gained consciousness, he was confused as to where he was. At first, he thought he was dead, but he remembered the underworld didn't have ocean themes or dark blue marble floors and walls...gasp! It was fairly hard for Eury to move due to his body still being in aching pain. The farthest he got was outside of his new room where he was met face to face with Poseidon himself.

Eury felt as if he should be scared but...he was unsure why. His memories were a jumbled mess. Poseidon figured this when Eurylochus showed no anger towards him or that much fear. Just uncertain curiosity.

But just to be sure, he asked Eury the last thing he remembered (while seeming like a concerned god). Attempting to remember anything put strain on Eury's head...then he rembered.

Storm, lightning, a man with long brown hair and a beard...pointing at him. Then a sharp stinging ball of light hit...then nothing else. What was that man's name?

Oddy? Esseuss? Odysseus? Oh, gods that name gives him a migraine and makes him anxious. And does he feel...sorrow...when he thinks about it? This person?

So, from Poseidon's perspective...he's someone he can use (or a way to pass the time lol). Bend his memories to make him think EVERYTHING was Ody's fault (it kind of was) and make him seem more like a monster than he is.

They get to know each other for the next seven years, some of Eury's memories come back but not happy one's. Never happy one's. The only good memory or feeling he got was when a certain name came up in his hand when he saw a red curtain.

Polites.

But even that brought a horrible memory of the cyclops and his friend...well...dying. Well, the memory is still choppy, but he can put two and two together.

Of course, when Eury has traumatic memories coming back, Poseidon is there to comfort him. At first, his comfort held no real emotion or care behind it...until he genuinely started to fall for the mortal. Which he hates by the way. How the fuck did that happen?!

For the first three years he tried not to acknowledge it, to keep his distance from the mortal. But those pretty "siren" eyes, genuine curiosity, genuine kindness, personality and care from Eurylochus somehow chipped away at his ruthless and cold heart over time.

The next four years he couldn't help but get closer and be more tender and caring towards Eury. And vice versa for Eurylochus.

Poseidon stops bringing up Odysseus seeing as it only hurts Eury (and he doesn't like talking about him either). He stops bringing up anything that has to do with Eury's passed in general and focus on the present.

Eurylochus isn't at all aware of Poseidon wanting to kill Ody until after he comes back bandaged up. And only weeks after that was, he really told what happened.

Then asked to do the unthinkable

-

I would like to point out that that their relationship isn't healthy. Eury is entirely dependent on Poseidon because he needs him for everything. Food, shelter, sometimes physical movement and "human" interaction and touch.

Poseidon is aware of this and keeps him inside by telling him how horrible the world is. Why? Well, for one, he's lonely and...that's about it. He grew an attachment to Eury and therefore doesn't want to let him go.

Now, Poseidon isn't like his brother, Zeus. He's not going to force himself onto Eurylochus in any shape or form (the man is already in physical pain most of the time, why in Olympus's name would he do that?). But still, he's keeping Eurylochus isolated.

Eurylochus doesn't really believe Poseidon too much but...he's a god. He may have amnesia but he's aware that he can't go against the will of a god. So, if Poseidon wants him there...he'll stay.

The poor mortal doesn't have that much fight left in him anyway (not physically at least). Plus, Poseidon is nice to him and treats him well.

So, the au is still in development buuut if you have any questions, please send asks (I'm bored)

[stringsbasement]

i have more to say, mainly about peri and his parents' initial separation, as well as the parallels that can be found with this version of peri and hazel, but i feel it would be best to end it here :)

I would love more to hear about this.

cosmo and wanda's form of affection comes in constant and excess validation for every little thing peri does. they're clingy and suffocating with their love, and as much as peri grew to dislike it, he can't help but become dependent on this validation; it makes peri absolutely terrified of doing anything wrong which might disappoint them, and everyone else who perceives him

timmy might be the only one that would treat him normally. timmy's rough around the edges, but i can also see him being a jerk in the typical big brother style. being purposely annoying and rude, but loving and genuine enough to be real with peri when he needs it

they compliment each other— the worst godchild to ever exist, and the ultimate golden child

timmy doesn't expect anything of peri. he thinks he's special because he's family, not because he's a fairy baby, or because of some vendetta against his parents. and peri doesn't think timmy's a horrible person who ruins everything he touches. they see each other's flaws, and loves each other because of them

in "timmy's secret wish," peri is the first and last to successfully defend timmy's court case. (which, i mind you, he did by going poof poof poof in the speeches he made after timmy's other defenses utterly failed. he was able to just... do that. the judges didn't need to hear a single thing more because they all automatically trust him) (even if they did send him to the hocus poconos right after lmao) he's literally the only reason timmy's free at all. i have no doubt there's plenty of other, off-screen occasions where he uses his "status" to protect timmy

on the other hand, timmy enables peri into his antics, allowing him to just… goof off. have fun; cause chaos to his heart's content. he does things that he wouldn't otherwise, and it'll always be timmy who takes accountability so he wouldn't feel bad for it

so when timmy leaves, it undoubtedly affects him. it affect his freedom. it wouldn't matter how old he was— they were together for the first 8 (technically 50+) years of his life. that stuff sticks, subconsciously or not

so it comes time cosmo and wanda has to do something about it. what to do when a child's missing their brother?

hazel's case was straightforward. she needed companionship, assurance to ward off her fears, and a healthy dose of fun to loosen her up and take her mind off things

but what can you give a child who already has everything he could want? you give him as much love as you can, but wait, he pushes you away for it. shoot. so now you give him space, but he grows ever more distant, and when you realize you might've given him too much space, he's already off on his own, out of your reach

so you decide to go as well. you retire and take a long vacation with your partner, and you have faith that your child is doing something he loves and that he'll come back to you in his own time

and when that child is finally, utterly alone... there's nothing he can do but regret

peri wouldn't have much, if any, close friends he can truly confide with. not if he pushed them all away too

(with the way that fairies, pixies, and their respective antis are the dominant species, i'm guessing that the main reason is because other species don't live nearly as long. so usually, fairies rely on each other as forever companions. except no one but irep is even within peri's age group, (irep, who is antagonistic towards him on a good day,) which we know is an issue because of "poof's playdate," where they felt the need to turn other fairies into babies to get peri some socialization)

for hazel, she was able to acquire close friends over time through her own efforts. it's apparent in the finale just how much hazel has grown over the course of the show. at the start, she had difficulties overcoming her dependence towards her brother and coping with the changes in her life, but she adapted and turned that into her strength. she put herself out there and formed new bonds that, in the end, was the reason they were able to save fairy world

right off the bat, hazel and anthony parallels peri and timmy

anthony moved onward with life, while timmy wanted to stay a kid forever. the difference between them is that anthony knew he had a home to come back to, a family that will always be there to support him when he returns. timmy felt that once his memories are gone, he'll have nothing, because his fairies didn't just help him cope with his life, they replaced it entirely, to the point that timmy has no legs to stand on if they were to disappear

timmy loved too much, and cosmo and wanda had too much love to give. it ended up hurting them instead

cosmo and wanda learned that lesson, but peri didn't.

(i already have more ideas for him and dev and oh do they wound me...)

peri becomes a way hazel gets to see what it would be like if she never let go of anthony, and peri would see a glimpse of his younger self in hazel, who is happy and content with the life she was given despite the way things had to be

(peri and hazel understand each other the most, which is exactly why they wouldn't get along. i can imagine an interaction between them with hazel calling peri out, and him ignoring her)

when the cosma-fairywinkles reunite, cosmo and wanda's overbearingness after their reunion takes on a different light. it would be two parents trying to connect with the only child they have left when all he wants is for them to go away

(if cosmo and wanda tried to address timmy's bad influence in the past, it would be like pouring salt over a still-open wound. in peri's perspective, it's like they're trying to ruin timmy's image now that he's gone to so peri can get over him. it's kid logic. peri is too caught up in himself to remember that cosmo and wanda was with timmy first. they all love him. they all miss him)

peri had reinvented himself and has become someone else. someone cosmo and wanda might not like. he has run through every single reaction and still wasn't ready for immediate and unconditional acceptance. "i go by peri now!" and they don't even think to question it, they just love him like they always have. like they always will

and maybe it's in that moment that peri begins to think that his fears might have been for nothing

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Role Reversal

Roman kept mentioning that he doesn’t like transformations and it kept reminding me of Patton turning into a giant frog and Janus disguising himself as other sides. It would be very cool and epic if you could make some Roman angst based off this concept (no pressure obviously) – anon

The song "I Am in Great Pain, Please Help Me" by Crywank reminds me so much of Roman (specifically, your brand of Roman angst). I was wondering if you had the spoons for it, to write something inspired by it? No pressure to, ofc! – anon

Perhaps something where Roman is comforting Logan and then after Roman leaves, Logan is like, “Wait, shit, I should have been comforting YOU!”. You know the scene in What Makes A Perfect Gift where Logan asks for Roman’s input and Roman looks genuinely surprised? The angst potential for Roman not thinking he’s needed at a BRAINSTORM is so slept on. I know you’ve had a lot of Roman angst asks lately so I understand if you don’t want to do it, but I definitely wanted to ask just in case! – anon

Roman angst disguised as Logan centric. Logan Sherlock fic about him trying to figure out why Thomas’s mental health is so bad. – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: roman being insecure, logan being insecure

Pairings: logince can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 3143

Logan feels stressed about Thomas's mental health and goes to Roman for help discussing a possible upcoming video, only for Roman to accurately guess that Logan's feeling insecure about his own role in keeping Thomas happy and healthy. Little does Logan know: there's more going on than meets the eye and it isn't until later that he realizes Roman's far more fragile than anyone could've guessed. After that, well, there's really only one course of action.

If Logan had not been paying very, very close attention, there is every possibility that he could have missed it.

He almost did; despite being entirely focused on his goal, he has to admit that it wasn't something he saw as necessarily related, and as such, dismissed initially as not relevant to solving the problem of why Thomas's mental health had been in a steady decline since the wedding. However, upon further reflection, he can conclude that not only was the sudden tightening of Roman's expression related, it was most likely the strongest indicator he's seen since he began.

"Sorry, Specs, I think my hearing cut out of a second there." Roman scratches the back of his head almost sheepishly. "Can you—can you say that one more time?"

"I believe it would be helpful for Thomas for us to do another 'low-key' video, as it were, and for you and I to work together."

"Yes, I heard that part."

"As we want to focus on recapturing some of Thomas's whimsy and zest for life—" here Roman's expression quirks towards amusement— "it would be apt for you to try and recreate some of the dreams Thomas has held onto in the past."

"Right, but not like—"

"Including transforming into those he aspired to be or the roles he aspired to fill," Logan finishes, frowning when there's that momentary tightness in Roman's smile again, "do you concur?"

"I—so I'm all for helping Thomas fall in love with his dreams again, you know, but, um…" He twists his fingers together. "I'm not sure that this is…the best way to do it?"

"You are the embodiment of Thomas's Hopes and Dreams. Who else would be better equipped to help me?"

Roman blinks as if he hadn't been expecting the comment. Which is in and of itself a little odd; Roman typically never passes up the opportunity to remind them of his standing in Thomas's psyche, nor to claim credit for half of the things Thomas does even when it's far more of a group effort. "Right, but I don't see how me turning into various things would be helpful."

"Thomas is a very visual learner. It's been proven in the past via various theater productions and other activities that he thrives in environments where he can immerse himself in what it is he's doing. By having you, his Creativity, directly mimic the dreams he wishes or wished to obtain, we draw a more substantial connection between the Thomas that he is now and the Thomas he aspires to be."

Roman's mouth works. Logan frowns.

"If you have something you want to say, Roman, by all means, speak your mind. This brainstorm won't be nearly as successful if only one of us is contributing."

"Where is this coming from, Logan?"

"I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"This." Roman gestures back and forth between them. "This sudden need to 'fix' Thomas. You've been pretty clear with the rest of us that you don't think staying 'in his head' would be helpful, not when you're working so hard on your lists that you want him to do."

"Well, it's been pretty clear those aren't working, so—"

"But they have been. You know they have been—we all celebrated when Thomas finally managed to clean his kitchen and you were right, he did feel better afterwards. Your methods were working, are working."

Logan swallows. He did feel very accomplished after the last bowl had been placed in the cupboard, and no one had been happier than he when Thomas not only made himself dinner but cleaned up afterwards, but this was different. "Thomas deserves the drive to go after what he wants as well as doing the maintenance required to sustain his current lifestyle."

Roman nods. "And what sorts of things are those?"

"Roman, I don't understand—"

"Please," he interrupts, holding up his hands, "humor me?"

"You're the one who's Hopes and Dreams," he protests feebly, "you're Creativity. I'm not going to be good at coming up with them."

"Just try. You're better at it than you think."

"O-oh." He blinks. "Thank you, Roman."

"Of course."

"Uh—well, I think Thomas has a passion for filmmaking that he hasn't fully realized in shooting the YouTube videos due to the constraints of the channel."

"Okay."

"He's been enjoying doing the modeling shoots for Instagram as well. And he has a few shows that he wants to catch up on—not a dream, I know, but something he wants to do."

"That's good, Logan. What else?"

"Does he still have the dream of being an actor? On a more professional level?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Well, there you are, then."

Roman nods. "And if we go off of your transformation idea, what—what exactly would I be transforming into?"

He furrows his brow. "Well, you would be—if you were doing—I suppose you—ah. I see your point."

"It's not that there's something Thomas isn't that we need to make him into," Roman says quietly, "we can just remind him of the things that are already inside him that he can chase and pursue."

"…that is a very valid conclusion to have reached."

"He doesn't have to work all the time—I think both you and I know the dangers of letting yourself believe you can," he says with a gentle nudge to Logan's shoulder, "he can give himself time to rest and work on things that he wants to, not things that he has to."

"And I suppose making another video would be counterproductive to this aim, as it requires a level of work that would not be outweighed by the reassurance it might provide."

"I don't know if I would've said it nearly as well as you, but yeah, pretty much."

Logan sighs, closing his notebook with an almost despondent flap. "Then I suppose I have nothing else to work on."

"Good."

He frowns at Roman. "'Good?'"

"Well, now that means you can do the things that you want to do."

"M-me? What on earth are you talking about?"

"Did we not just go over how important it is to not be consumed by work all the time?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Did we not just talk about how it's necessary to rest and do the things you want to do from time to time?"

"I don't—"

"Did you not just say that you have nothing else to work on right now?"

"I know what you're doing," he says, meaning for it to come out accusatory and missing dreadfully, "it's not going to work."

"Me convincing you to take time for yourself and enjoy spending your time how you want to spend it isn't going to work?" Roman grins, leaning forward onto his elbows, propping his chin on his hands. "Are you sure?"

"Roman," he warns.

"What? It's not like I was the only one who came to this conclusion about Thomas a second ago, you were instrumental in figuring it out, Specs."

"Roman."

"And we all know that you're way smarter than I am, so if you're going to take your own advice—which you should, then—"

"Alright!" Roman laughs as Logan buries his face in his hands, trying not to smile too obviously at the praise or blush from how many compliments Roman's just given him, "you've made your point, you can stop now."

"I think you mean I've just reiterated your point, but that's alright." A warm hand pats his shoulder. "You're doing great, Logan. You don't have to stress out about this right now. Thomas has earned a break and so have you, okay?"

"…I suppose there are a few things I've been waiting to do that could occupy my time."

"There you go!" Roman claps his hands and gets up, affectionately ruffling Logan's hair and dodging his attempts to swat him. "Let me know how it goes, I'd love to hear about whatever you're working on."

Logan aims another swat at his shoulder and misses, watching Roman sink out. He shakes his head, unable to keep the growing smile off his face as he thinks about his own projects. Yes, there are several things he could do, he could work on refining the data for the experiment, he could read that study he's been eyeing for a few days, he could look over the manuscript he's drafting…

It isn't until he gets back to his room with a different notebook open on his desk that he pauses.

Why had Roman been upset at the suggestion of transformation?

They had agreed upon resting and doing what they wanted, letting Thomas do what he wanted. They had agreed that resting was good, pursuing one's own passions was good. What about transformations had rankled Roman so? He hadn't directly addressed it—something virtually unheard of for Roman. Perhaps it had been something to do with the act of transforming itself? But no, Roman had always been among the first to thrill at being someone else, or pretending to be someone else. What had caused such a dramatic shift?

What sorts of transformations had they done recently? There had been the whole thing with Remus—Logan suppresses a shudder as he remembers Remus's song and everything that happened in it—but Roman had been unconscious for most of it. Aside from that, it had been…

Well, Janus had been transforming into them more often than not, but that was him, mostly, not Roman. And Patton had become the giant frog, but that hadn't really affected Roman that much either. No, the last time Roman had been the one transforming, it had been…for…

Logan stands up, eyes still fixed on a point in the distance as his mind races.

Roman hadn't transformed for himself. It had always been at the whim of someone else. Roman was Hopes and Dreams—Thomas's Hopes and Dreams. Roman did things for Thomas. He was Thomas's wants. Despite how often they all called him selfish, he…he didn't really fight for the things that he wanted.

Could he name a single thing that Roman wanted that wasn't something for Thomas?

I think you and I both know the dangers of believing you can work all the time.

There's nothing that Thomas isn't that we need to make him into.

"Oh, Roman," he whispers into the quiet room, "when did you get so good at hiding?"

He doesn't want to know the answer, but his mind is already coming up with a helpful list of every time he can remember where Roman let himself get pushed to the side, overruled, scolded, overlooked, for the sake of someone else. He thinks about the times where Roman had been obviously uncomfortable with what they wanted him to do, and then did it anyway. He thinks about how long it's been since he's actually heard Roman say what he wanted, not what Thomas wanted, not what Patton or Janus or even he wanted.

How long has it been since someone wanted Roman for Roman?

He looks back down at his desk and pulls out a different notebook. He's underestimated Roman. He won't go into this upcoming conversation unprepared.

***

He knocks on Roman's door as softly as he can, waiting for the quiet come in to push it open. Roman looks up from his—

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

"Oh, Roman," he murmurs before he can stop himself, crouching next to Roman's slumped figure and carding a hand through his hair, "I'm so sorry."

"N-no, I'm sorry, 'm sorry, I can—" he scrubs a hand harshly across his face— "it's fine. What, um, what do you—"

Another sob interrupts him before he can finish asking if Logan needs anything, which only makes his chest ache all the more. He eases himself down next to Roman's buckled legs and wraps a comforting arm around his shoulders, pulling him close enough to wipe a thumb across his cheek.

"Shh," he says when Roman tries to speak again, "don't stress yourself. I'm not here for anything other than this, little one."

The pet name rolls off his tongue before he can stop it, but at the slightly wounded noise that leaves Roman's lips, he resolves to use them as often as he can. He scratches his nails lightly against his scalp, shushing him again when he tries to stifle another sob.

"I'm here because I realized I'd hurt you earlier," he continues, still speaking gently, "and I did not attempt to comfort you in any way. No, no—don't pull away from me, dear. Shh, don't fret, don't fret, I'm not upset—look at me, Roman, do I look upset?"

Roman's eyes, still filled with tears, roam frantically over his face. Logan keeps his expression as soft and open as he can, letting the concern write itself plainly over the furrow in his brow. After another moment, Roman sniffles and he's already reaching for the tissue box he can see perched haphazardly on the end of the desk. He takes it with a grateful mumble and blows his nose with a honk.

"You were right. You don't need to change to be worth something, or to be fixed. You don't need to become something you're not—oh, darling, hush, now," he says when Roman's eyes grow wide with distress, "I'm not angry, I'm not—oh, you poor thing."

For Roman had begun to sob in earnest, trying in equal parts to pull away from Logan's embrace and push himself near into his chest. Logan slides an arm under his legs and pulls them into his lap, tucking Roman's face into the crook of his neck and kissing the crown of his head. There's a moment where Roman tenses and he fears he might pull away, but then he all but collapses into him and buries his nose in Logan's shirt.

"There you go, little one, shh, it's alright. You can cry, crying is good. You're alright, you're safe, I'm right here." He runs his hand up and down Roman's back. "Shh, shh, that's it…that's it, my dear."

"Sorry—'m so sorry—"

"Shh-shh-shh, no apologies from you, not about this. You're overwhelmed and overworked, it's perfectly alright for you to be emotional right now. You can let it out, I don't mind at all. In fact, I'm here to help."

"Help?"

"Mm. You took great pains to comfort me earlier, even when I did not ask, and you," and here he gives Roman a little shake, "have not let anyone comfort you in quite a long time. So yes, I am here to comfort you, to help, and if that means letting you cry in my lap for as long as you need, then that is what I shall do."

"It's so hard," comes the sniffling whisper from under his chin, "I keep—I keep trying to be what they want but they don't know what they want and then it's my fault and I can't—they keep changing and wanting me to change and I can't—"

"Shh, shh…hush, my dear, it's alright. That's right, just let me hold you…"

They spend a great deal of time like that, curled up on the floor. Logan keeps carding his hand through Roman's hair, soothing away the more violent of sobs with gentle touches up and down his back or patting his chest. How long has Roman been holding this in? How long has it been since their prince has let himself fall apart without remorse? And how long has it been since they took pains enough to notice?

He pulls himself from his own thoughts when Roman's head turns, bumping slightly against his chin. He tilts his head to press a kiss to his temple, leaning back just enough to see the blotchy face come into view. Taking another tissue, he carefully dabs up the last of the tears he can see, holding it so Roman can blow his nose again.

"…thanks, Logan."

"Of course, my dear." He raises an eyebrow at the little shudder that goes through him. "No?"

"N-no, yes. Yes. Very much yes. Sorry."

"None of that now, my dear. Do you feel any better?"

"A little bit."

"That's excellent. Shall we sit here for a little longer, or do you want to move somewhere a little more comfortable?"

"C-can we just stay here for a little longer?"

"Of course we can." He runs his thumb over Roman's cheek again. "I am truly sorry it took me so long to figure out what was going on, little one. But I'm here now."

Roman averts his gaze and once again Logan is struck by how different Roman is right now; no longer does he see their fiery prince who so eloquently made him take his own advice mere hours ago, instead he sees a shell of a Side who shies away from a gentle touch like a dog too scared to eat. The comparison alone is enough to coax him to lean forward and kiss his cheek, cuddling him against his chest.

"I'm here now," he repeats, "let me look after you."

"You will?"

"Yes, Roman, I will. I'm right here—" he pulls him a little closer— "I've got you, little one, you're alright."

"I don't know what to do."

"Right now?"

"…anymore."

Logan's heart clenches in his chest and he forces the ache away, running his thumb over his cheek once more. "Well, what do you want to do right now?"

"I want to stay here."

"Then we shall stay here. And when you're ready to figure out what you want to do next," he says, adjusting them until they're both comfortable as can be, "I will be here to help."

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs@el-does-photography@princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl@raven1508

[anodizedblack]

I almost never make posts in here, but I’ve gotta get this out of my chest at last.

• Discovering My Hero Academia at 15.

• Seeing similarities between Izuku and myself : an emotional teen with a wish to help others, whose poor self-estime makes him try to befriend his bully.

• Enjoy the series for a while, but starts getting disturbed by Katsuki showing violent sadism while personally escaping any consequences.

• Find out a lot of fans not only like Bakugo for his toxic traits (although the author specified he was trying to make him unlikeable), but they also shipped the two together since day one.

• I’m seeing people glamorise a victim wanting the attention of his bully. I’m seeing people glamorise what broke my self-worth in my most vulnerable phase. It hurts.

• I try to not pay attention to it, but it just takes so much space in the fandom : shippers talking about a victim dating his active bully as « so romantic », people obnoxiously insisting how the manga WANTS YOU to see them romantically, even people drawing Bakugo… raping Izuku. I’m feeling sick to my soul, this is agonising.

• The pairing takes so much space its shippers impose themselves as THE queer ship, declaring anyone disliking it either can’t read or is homophobic, even though tons of same-sex ships from the manga have little to no backlash about them, because they’re simply not toxic.

• One Tumblr user even calls me homophobe for not seeing them romantically, something I have never been and never will be. And it happened at a time I was questioning my own sexuality.

• Fine, I won’t try to engage too much with this fandom and focus on the manga. But even without all this, it’s getting harder to enjoy : some characters with an interesting premise get eclipsed in favor of others chosen for their popularity in polls, many relationships are barely written and explored, others behave in a way that undo their character growth, the manga tries to introduce themes poorly, and I’m struggling to feel genuine sympathy for most of the villains.

• I just don’t enjoy this manga anymore, better just stop engaging with it.

• Time passes and I only occasionally see online stuff associated with it. Some plot points being discussed, but mostly shipping discourse again. With « bkdk » fans who seemingly dedicate their every online actions and life to that. Whose hostility and obnoxious behaviour has been immensely detrimental to the public image of the fandom, if not of the manga. They are still hellbent on insisting the entire story is about Bakugo and Izuku’s relationship, actually. Anyone believing otherwise, and pointing out parts of the story showing Izuku having feelings for another character is « delulu » of course.

• Bakugo finally makes his apology, 90% through the series. It’s laughable, and sounds like he doesn’t even know the amount of harm he’s done. Shippers use this as an opportunity to make themselves seem regular healthy fans, as if they haven’t been salivating at him verbally and physically abusing Izuku this whole time. The hypocrisy.

• The « first » ending of the manga comes out, and I find it disappointing. This suit should’ve been given to him by the government right after he recovered from his injuries, he saved the goddamn world. But instead he had to wait for years for his friends to spare money for it. Ugh. Anyways.

• The second and last ending, chapter 431 came out ? Izuku kindly declines an offer from Bakugo to work with him ? And it gives a conclusion to Ochako and Izuku’s relationship, showing them sharing feelings for one another ? So they did end up together… and the bkdk shippers are realising that. After all these years of being horrible, all this confidence and entitlement is simply breaking into a million pieces. And I’m loving every second of it. It absolutely brightens my day, my whole fucking weekend, that all those horrible people who fantasised over a ship born from a toxic idea of a relationship, from something that ruines lives, that broke me and countless others… are feeling disappointed, confused, stupid and miserable. Some say they don’t care, that they can seek refuge in their fanfictions written with « their » version of the characters, but the majority are visibly distraught and showing it. We told you guys, and you deserve every second of misery you’re going through.

It’s a low blow, I know. But you brought us this low.

You’re hurting, and we’re having the last laugh

[justanothersanjilover]

One Piece Modern Gym Au Wip

(Part 17)

“Fucking shit,” Zoro mumbled, falling back against his apartment door.

A shit-eating grin was plastered on his face. He brushed a hand through his hair as he pushed away from the door. Sanji was going on a date with him! And he would only have to wait until the day after tomorrow! He said Sanji could pick what they were going to do, and the genuine smile he gave Zoro warmed his whole body! He couldn't wait!

“You look like you’ve won the lottery.” A feminine voice came from his couch.

The grin faltered and turned into a - admittedly well practiced - grimace. She was back after what? Maybe five months?

“Did you pick the lock?” He growled in a playful tone - anyone not knowing him would say it was threatening.

Zoro glanced over to see pink hair emerge from behind the backrest of his couch. The girl attached to the bright-colored and neatly styled hair rolled her eyes at him.

“I still have a key, idiot! You gave it to me after your last withdrawal episode and never wanted it back!”

“Right…not like I say every time that you should leave it and…actually, last time you left a key! Which one was it, if not the one for the front door?”

She laughed.

“Don’t know. Found it around the house and figured Mihawk doesn't need it anymore. You never checked if it was the real one?”

“I trusted you…”

Zoro scoffed and walked over to finally give her a big hug, seeing how impatient she had gotten by tapping her foot repeatedly. Perona smiled into his shoulder.

“It’s good to see you,” she mumbled.

Ten minutes later, they sat on the couch, two cups of tea on the table.

“What have you been up to?” Zoro wanted to know.

“Oh, you know, traveling, blogging, working, I actually got a job at a cemetery for five months.”

“As long as you are happy,” Zoro smiled.

Perona had never been an ordinary girl. Ever since Mihawk had adopted the two of them, she was outgoing, bursting with life, and didn't give two shits about the opinions of other people. She always dressed like she wanted to win a goth contest and loved everything that was even slightly out of the ordinary.

She made a living with her traveling and occasionally working a 9 to 5 or really anything that came her way and felt like her. Zoro was a proud big brother - even if he would never tell her that. He listened to her rant about where she was traveling and what was going on with her life. Listening to Perona’s stories never got boring, and he loved it when she came to visit him while she was in town.

“How ‘bout you? What were you up to, all these past months?”

“I…finally went back to Nami’s Gym…”

“And she let you stay?”

“Yeah…actually, almost all the girls there were happy to see me again. Also, she got a new healthy food guy, so I’m not the only man there.”

He couldn't help but smile at the thought of Sanji.

“Oh…oh! What was that?! Was that a smile?! Are you into that guy? Bet he has your little heart in a chokehold! Tell me all about him!”

Perona scooted closer to him and looked like a puppy waiting for a treat. Zoro sighed and rubbed his face.

“Okay, fine. But,” he pointed a finger at her in warning. “You can't tell anyone, understood? We are just about to figure out what’s going on with us. I don't want anyone coming to me or him and asking stupid questions!”

Perona held up her hands in defense.

“I won't tell anyone, geez! Don’t bite me!”

Zoro grinned at her. When they were young, he had a habit of biting her when she got too annoying, and Perona wouldn't let him forget that.

“So his name is Sanji…”

“Of course it is,” she rolled her eyes, giggling.

“What do you mean?”

“You didn't notice? Isn’t Sanji translated to three? You know what, let me check.” A quick internet search later, she grinned at Zoro. “Yup, it translates roughly to three o’clock and even to a traditional snack in Japan taken by three o’clock.”

Zoro snorted and shook his head.

“I swear if you say he is a snack…”

“But he is!”

Perona laughed and shook her head. Zoro was hopeless when it came to his crushes, but then she got serious only a second later.

“Does he know?”

“Ha!” Zoro barked a laugh at that question. “You have to be more specific about what you mean.”

“About your past addiction, so he won't try to make you drink more than you can handle.”

Zoro nodded.

“About your eye?”

He shook his head and shivered at the sudden memory flooding his brain. He managed to shake it off before it took hold.

“About you being trans?”

“Yes, he knows it. It was kind of a rollercoaster until he finally knew, but he’s fine with it.”

“Great!” Perona smiled again, drinking the last bit of her tea. “You plan on telling him what happened?”

Zoro shrugged and touched the scar over his lost eye. It was the fucking worst memory he had.

“He didn't ask yet. I see him looking at it sometimes, but he’s too well-behaved to actually straight out ask about it.”

“That's not an answer.”

“I…don’t know. Maybe? If we actually get together. I don't want to…burden him with that story as a friend.”

“You know, friends are there to talk about things like that, too.”

“Yes, I know. But I think he has his own backpack to shoulder throughout his life. I don’t want to put more weight on it.”

Now, Perona became even more interested. She loved gossip and secrets, and she loved them even more if she could reveal them.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you think that?”

Zoro scratched his chin.

“He invited me over, and as I arrived at his address, it was the fucking most expensive apartment complex in town, and he lived on the top floor! He has the penthouse, Perona! On his bell only stood the number three, which I found odd. When I made a comment on the penthouse, he didn’t say anything…and he has heteo…hetiro…” Zoro cursed for not remembering the word of Sanji’s eye condition. “The thing where you have two eye colors.”

“Heterochromia,” Perona helped.

“Yes! One of his eyes is blue, and the other is green. When I said it looked beautiful, he answered that it was nice to hear that for something he hates. But when I asked about why he hates it, he changed the subject. I don't know…it just feels like he has a lot of secrets…”

“I could investigate,” Perona offered. “If you want.”

Zoro knew from experience that she would do it anyway. But he shook his head. He wanted Sanji to tell him his story and not for Perona to spy on him.

“Fine.”

They talked on for hours. It got so late that Perona decided to stay for the night and sleep on Zoro’s couch. Zoro offered his bed, but she insisted, and Zoro didn't push much because he didn't like sleeping on his couch.

“You have everything?” He wanted to know as Perona was laying down.

“Yes. I mean, I’d love something to cuddle, but…”

“Wait…”

Zoro walked into his bedroom and rummaged through his dresser. He found what he searched for and went back into the living room.

“Here.”

Perona made big eyes as she saw what Zoro had handed her. It was a big tiger plush - green like his hair and with a grumpy expression.

“You still have it?”

“As you see. Don't drool on it!”

Perona nodded and hugged the tiger tight to her chest. It was a souvenir from when they were kids. Perona actually got it for Zoro at a fair after completely destroying a booth where you had to pop balloons with a little dart arrow. And by destroying it, he meant that she hit almost every target. The man actually cried after she left.

Zoro smiled at the memory while pulling up his blanket. His last thought before sleep took him over was that he wanted to take Sanji to a Fair and win something cute for him.

Prev/Next

First Part

[bothzangetsus]

what are your thoughts on ichigo being an almost all forgiving guy, who is never angry or rancorous? he forgives urahara after soul society by saying ‘you did nothing wrong’, he told isshin to talk to him whenever he was ready in fake karakura after he appeared as a shinigami and then later on ten thousand years he was shown undestanding at the fact that his whole heritage was hidden to him, he forgot omz for lying to him, went to soul society to recover ginjou’s body even after what he and tsukishima did to him, and is shown as someone who can work with past enemies (like grimmjow, who blew a hole in rukia’s body on their very first meeting). at this point, kindness to the point of absurdity seems to be a theme in his character.

I SO desperately need to know what inspired this! Because, well, my first thought was-- Ichigo, never angry? Kind to the point of absurdity??? Him?????

That said, it did make me do some quick leafing through the manga! Without a full, careful reread I can't be sure, but I think the only time we saw him direct anger at a friend was right after Rukia gave him back his powers in Lost Agent. We get this scene:

Where he shouts at Uryuu to, well, STFU. And nothing else!

However, I would still shy away from using the word 'kind' -- not because I think he's unkind, we saw how he treats the little ghost kid, and how he even became friends with Chad, etc, but because I think it's the wrong framing. Or rather, I think it's descriptively inadequate. What is his lack of response born of? Is it really just... endless kindness? Not likely, because we don't see him display endless kindness when someone he deems wrong shows up. I believe his reactions (or lack thereof, I suppose) mostly depend on if something stands as an obstacle to him getting what he wants or not -- which, phrased like that, sounds like the opposite of kindness! -- except, what he wants most, and he repeatedly tells us so, is to have enough power to 1) protect others, 2) shatter fate. What would he get angry at Soul Society (Yamamoto, Ukitake, etc.) for? Their machinations still allow him to have his Soul Reaper powers. What would he get angry at Isshin for? He's part of the group Ichigo is trying to protect! I am not suggesting that this is a healthy reaction, to be clear, just that -- well, I think he's a character who is simultaneously endlessly selfish and selfless, because his ultimate desire, which he never ceases to follow, just happens to be a generally altruistic one.

Now, I do genuinely think he's not particularly revenge-minded, which is interesting on its own. It's a surprisingly healthy outlook where protectiveness does not come with possessiveness, even if it occasionally comes with underestimating friends' abilities. I don't know if that comes from forgiveness, honestly? The canon moments I can think of, again, without a deep careful reread:

Fighting Byakuya. Of course, this was a retaliation, but it was more about 'teaching' him to be a better older brother than about revenge.

Renji. This was about a personal rematch as much as it was about Rukia.

Grimmjow fight one: there was instant reaction when he put his hand through Rukia's body for sure.

Gj fight two: this was about personal pride.

Gj fight three: we can pretend this is about saving Orihime, but it's about personal pride too.

Second rematch with Ulquiorra - well ummm lowkey this is about personal pride as well, but it has more interesting panels!

However it does also have instant reaction when Loly grabs Orihime

Which is... arguably much more emotional than he was against Ulquiorra! And Ulquiorra hurt many more people -- during his first introduction back in Karakura, endlessly through keeping Orihime there, through punching a hole in Ichigo's chest, etc.

I would argue that the majority of these are still about personal pride. Does the existence of this person, does him fighting against them, help him by proving his strength or aiding him in getting more power? He had told us - it's meaningless to just live, it's meaningless to just fight, he wants to win. If nobody is in danger Right That Second, the desire to win and grow more powerful seems to overpower past slights. Is that forgiving? I don't know. I'm not being snide here, I genuinely do not know -- I figure how much of these actions is a positive vs. something dangerous and better-avoided is up to individual interpretation, and how much each person weighs intention vs. results vs. the possible (dire!) consequences (which did not happen in canon, but just as easily could have.)

Then we have 7. Killing Ginjo then asking for his body back. I think this was a stand -- how much is Soul Society willing to acquiesce to? How rigid are their rules still -- do they need to keep the material body of someone who posed danger to them, even if he currently no longer does so? How much respect are they willing to afford a Substitute?

And 8. OMZ. Ah... That is straightforward forgiveness! It was in line with Zanpakutou spirits worldbuilding & the arc set up, I think -- we got hundreds of chapters about his denial, so that was meant to be the final moment of acceptance. Now... Is that acceptance warranted? For White Zangetsu, I think yes. For OMZ, I suspect the answer is going to be no for a lot of people, and I fully understand that, and honestly, narratively, I also think it's a no. It needed more chapters rather than OMZ peacing out immediately. But ethically... does it conflict with Ichigo's own ethics?

Well, actually, I think the answer is yes here, too! Look at how badly he reacted to White Zangetsu initially, all based on the assumption that he's dangerous (and thus he, too, will become dangerous), and we know for a fact that OMZ *is* dangerous. I do think this forgiveness is the natural thematic endpoint, and IMO it should have split up the reveal & his power-up for the pacing to make sense, but that's a separate discussion. My point being, this is the only instance I can think of where forgiveness for the sake of forgiveness was handed out, and it was, in a way, against himself.

All of this is more or less my clumsy attempt to say that no, I don't think he's kind to the point of absurdity :D There's this constant contradiction between pretty self-serving actions and the fact that the personal motivations do end up quite public-spirited. I do however think that he is more empathetic than he's given credit for!