#okay im full on breakdown in the tags

[tchaikovskym]

I think I can officially call my art blog a public archive since it's not getting any blog action

[mooroficirrus]

bigfrin

[cas---2y5]

I am once again neglecting my physical and mental health to finish an ambitious project on an impossible timeline I’m sore and exhausted and dehydrated and either overeating or not eating at all. be normal about my hobbies challenge failed immediately

[starkeymeow]

❛ we make each other alive . .

does it matter if it hurts? ❜

I’M COMING, WAIT FOR ME.

PLOT you enter the hunger games a proud weapon of your district, only to find your sharpest blade is the boy beside you, and you’re not sure which one of you the capitol wants to break first.

CONTEXT chapter five, best read in dark mode, rafe cameron x reader au, caesars interviews, rafe and reader bonding, the last night before the games, i havent slept im so ready to start writing i havent even worked on the masterlist for this LMFAO sorry im spewing these out so much i just love thg

main masterlist | tag list | previous next

the day after the scores, you’re told it’s your rest day, but there’s no such thing as rest here.

enobaria calls it a “refining session.” brutus, on the other hand, tosses a lopsided grin and says, “boot camp.”

you literally don’t even laugh.

the two of them are already planted on the velvet couches in the living room when you step in, hair still damp, expression blank. rafe drifts in behind you and flops down beside you on the couch, one leg bent beneath him, his elbow thrown lazily over the back of the cushions. when brutus eyes him, he shrugs.

“what?” rafe says, stretching his arms with a quiet crack. “we’re all friends here.”

enobaria rolls her eyes. brutus just exhales like he doesn’t have the energy to argue.

what follows is not friendly. it’s sharp-edged and exhausting, a full-blown psychological breakdown of what you’re supposed to be tomorrow when you step on caesar flickerman’s stage. not who you are, but who they want you to become.

“you’re not just tributes,” enobaria says, pacing slow. “you’re symbols, metaphors, breathing metaphors. do you understand?”

you nod, though you’re not sure if you do.

brutus rubs a hand over his face. “we’re giving you roles to play,” he says, a little softer. “you have to sell yourselves to the capitol. they’re going to fall in love with the idea of you.”

they look at rafe first.

“you’re the knight,” enobaria says. “protector of panem. young soldier from district two. charming, powerful, noble. someone who doesn’t fight because he wants to kill, but because it’s his duty.”

“chivalrous,” brutus adds. “but intimidating when you need to be.”

“someone the audience trusts,” she finishes, “but knows better than to cross.”

rafe lifts an eyebrow. “so you want me to be terrifying and trustworthy?”

“exactly,” enobaria says, not missing a beat.

he leans back again, mouth twitching at the corner. “guess i can do that.”

you wish it were that easy. but they turn to you next. enobaria studies you for too long, like she’s trying to peel your skin back to see what’s underneath.

“you’re not fire,” she says. “don’t try to be.”

you raise your chin, something cold curls in your gut. okay.

“you’re elegance,” brutus says. “grace, a flower that blooms in the middle of a battlefield.”

enobaria steps closer. “you’re the divine feminine, not to be underestimated. you don’t fight for glory. you fight to survive. and when you do, you make it look like art.”

you don’t know whether to feel flattered or furious. how the fuck do you portray that in an interview?

instead, you just breathe in slowly, eyes fixed on the window across the room. you’re too tired to argue.

they give you sample questions, hypothetical answers. you sit there for over two hours, repeating lines until they sound rehearsed in your own head.

rafe plays along easily, his tone slipping into charm when he’s asked about his strengths, letting a grin tug at his lips. you catch glimpses of what he’ll be like on stage. it’s convincing. dangerously so.

you get a break after that, barely ten minutes. just long enough to want to be anywhere else.

you’re standing near the sliding doors to the balcony, arms crossed, head pounding. the sky’s just starting to turn a hazy kind of blue. the city below doesn’t look real. nothing here does.

behind you, you hear rafe’s voice. “you wanna go?”

you turn your head slightly. he’s holding open the door with one hand, eyebrows raised.

“spar,” he clarifies. “just you ‘n me.”

you don’t answer, just step past him. you roll your shoulders back as you turn to face him, bare feet shifting against the smooth tile.

“first hit wins?” you say.

he smirks. “you won’t land one.”

you launch at him without warning, and he catches your momentum easily, spinning to throw you off balance, but you recover fast, ducking under his arm and aiming a quick jab at his side. he dodges, just barely.

your bodies move in rhythm. it’s dance-like and clean. but he’s faster, more grounded. his strength is in his restraint. he never uses more force than necessary. you can tell he’s holding back again, testing you, watching how you move.

but you’re not weak. you’re sharp, light on your feet. your hits are quick and calculated.

there’s a moment where he catches your wrist and twists, and your breath catches, but instead of panicking, you roll with it, using your other hand to push him back, your legs sweeping under his.

he stumbles, just for a second. you both pause. then you laugh, he does too. you wipe sweat from your brow and shake your head. “you’re better at this than i thought.”

“i’m better at everything than you thought.”

you roll your eyes, but the tension in your chest has eased. the sparring is the most normal thing you’ve done in days.

he steps closer, not in a threatening way. he holds your gaze. “you’ll be good out there,” he says, voice low.

you don’t ask if he means the interview. or the arena. you just nod. “yeah,” you murmur. “you too.”

the morning of the interview, you wake before the sun.

there’s no need to, no call time that early, no knock on the door. but your body just knows, like it’s wired to the pressure now. your stomach turns the second your eyes open, heavy and hollow all at once. you lie there for a while in the dark, the sheets tangled around your legs.

you don't remember falling asleep. you barely remember yesterday. the rehearsals blurred together, your body and brain pushed past the point of tired, and now you're on the other side of it.

you keep hearing brutus’ voice in your head.

you don’t fight for glory. you fight to survive. and when you do, you make it look like art.

whatever the hell that means.

you rise slowly. everything you do feels deliberate now, like it matters. like they're watching. even now. even here.

you step into the shower and let the heat burn against your skin. it's too hot. you don’t care. the steam curls up around you, beads of water streaming down your back like they’re trying to rinse off the nerves, the fear, the truth of where you're going.

when you step out, you don’t bother looking in the mirror. you know what you’ll see. your prep team does, too.

they're waiting when you step into the room that’s been transformed into a personal studio. valis is standing to the side, arms folded in a sleek black outfit, surveying your approach like a general waiting for her soldier.

she doesn’t say anything at first. just looks you over and nods. you’re a canvas, and she’s about to make you perfect.

the prep team descends in silence, gloved hands on your shoulders, guiding you gently toward the chair. your damp hair is already being combed through, braided, twisted. there’s music playing somewhere, no real words being sung, but you barely hear it over the sound of your own thoughts.

you murmur to yourself under your breath, just words from yesterday’s rehearsal, like the phrases they drilled into you, the fake answers, the poised smiles, the things you’re supposed to say when they ask you about the games, or about your partner, or what makes you different from every other tribute.

you think about your parents, what they’ll see. you wonder if they’ll even recognize you when you step on that stage.

a warm hand lifts your chin, guiding your face as the stylists start to work. powder, shimmer, subtle contouring that sculpts your features but doesn’t hide them. they know the image valis is aiming for.

the dress appears partway through. someone wheels it in carefully, draped over a velvet mannequin, covered in clear silk. your eyes lock on it instantly.

it’s breathtaking.

it doesn’t scream district two. not really. but there’s a nod in the design. it’s less armor, more divine regalia.

you catch your reflection now.

valis steps up beside you and nods once. “you’ll have them in the palm of your hand.” but you don’t answer.

you’re standing in line.

the stage is just beyond the doors, a glowing, blinding light on the other side. the screen above will play each interview in real time, showing the faces of the tributes in front of you. it’s where you’ll laugh, charm, and lie.

the line forms by district, starting with one. you’re somewhere toward the front again, right behind topper. your heels are quiet on the smooth floor, your body still, your breath slow.

topper stands in front of you, hands loose at his sides, relaxed in a way only someone from district one can be. he plays with the button on his jacket, bouncing slightly on his heels. you can hear him humming. he’s not nervous. he’s performing.

diamonte is already on stage.

you don’t even realize you’ve been tuning her out until caesar starts clapping and thanking her. her voice was quiet, her answers clipped. gee, her mentor must be exhausted.

the moment she exits the stage, the prep team swarms her like flies. and once his name is called, topper steps forward, a grin blooming across his face like it’s second nature.

you let your attention drift as the cameras pan to him.

his laughter fills the hallway as he starts his interview, all teeth and charm and easy. caesar eats it up. so does the audience. you let your eyes flick to the screen above, only half-listening. it’s hard to focus. you’re running through every question brutus made you answer yesterday, every phrase enobaria made you repeat.

the words still live in your mouth like muscle memory.

you’re so deep in your head, you don’t realize your hand has drifted back until you feel something warm brush your fingertips.

you blink, focus sharpening. his fingers. rafes.

you glance down, startled, but don’t move. his hand is at his side too, casual like yours, but his fingers are grazing yours like they’re asking a question.

his movements are slow, hesitant, like he’s checking if you’ll pull away. but for some reason, you don’t. instead, your hand stays there.

rafes fingers finally press softly into yours, and you stare at the floor. his thumb brushes along the inside of your knuckle once, kind of grounding in a way.

it’s stupid. and still, you squeeze his hand back.

you don’t say anything. you don’t need to, you just feel the warmth and the way it anchors you for a second when the world feels like it might spin off its axis.

topper’s name is shouted overhead in that sing-song way caesar flickerman always does, a final cheer ringing out from the crowd. on the screen, topper flashes his signature smirk, presses a hand to his chest, nods once like he’s accepting a crown, and walks off into the wings where his team waits for him like he’s already won.

your hand tightens slightly around rafe’s. his thumb strokes yours once more.

then you hear your name.

his touch disappears, you’re the one pulling away. you take one breath, two, and you don’t look back. you lift your chin, and walk.

once you step out into the light, it floods you all at once. you feel the heat on your skin, the flutter in your chest. your shoes hit the stage like they belong here,

smile, you remind yourself. so you do. not too big. just enough.

your lips curve gently, like a subtle invitation. you walk like you’ve done this before. like you’ve walked on runways made of bone and silk. like you’ve never known fear.

you cross to the velvet armchair opposite caesar flickerman, who beams like he’s just seen a goddess step into his living room. his blue hair sparkles under the lights, suit more outrageous than ever. it’s something gold and high-collared tonight, glowing like it was made of static.

you sit, and the applause simmers down to a purr as caesar leans forward, hands clasped.

“welcome, welcome,” caesar says, beaming at you. “you look stunning, my dear. absolutely radiant. tell me—who is responsible for this masterpiece of a dress?”

you glance toward the audience, then down at the gown.

it’s a dark wine red, almost black under the lights. the fabric flows like water, high-necked with a slit up one leg, the cut hugging you like it was poured on. petals are made from delicate glassy mesh climb up the bodice, unfurling across your chest and one shoulder.

“valis and my prep team,” you say. your voice is clear, calm, just a little smoky. “they worked very hard on it, caesar.”

“they deserve a raise,” caesar says dramatically. the crowd laughs. “and is it true we have a theme going on with this look? i’m sensing something floral, something . . .”

you smile again. just slightly. “roses,” you say, letting the word linger. “a reminder that something beautiful can still be dangerous.”

a hush falls. then applause.

you see it in caesar’s eyes. you’ve got him. he adjusts in his seat. “now i have to say, there’s been a lot of talk about you. your training score was . . . well, let’s just say it had everyone leaning forward. and the quiet ones, oh, we know what they say about the quiet ones. i mean, it was the highest score received this year.”

you keep your expression unreadable. “what can i say?” you reply softly. “i prefer to let my actions speak for me.”

the crowd loves that. they cheer again. even caesar claps a little, but you feel yourself settle into the moment. you were born for this, weren’t you?

“so tell us,” caesar goes on. “what’s your strategy going into the arena? any strengths you want to share? anything we should be watching for?”

you pause for a breath.

“i’m not here to make friends,” you say simply “i’m here to survive.”

another pause.

“but i do think there’s a . . . poetry in surviving. it’s not just about killing. it’s about reading the arena, understanding people, knowing when to wait, and when to strike. and how to turn the odds.”

caesar whistles. “spoken like a true daughter of two! and is there anyone, back home maybe, who’ll be watching you closely?”

you let the question hang in the air. your eyes flick to the camera softly, and you nod. “i hope my parents are watching,” you say. “i hope . . . they know i haven’t forgotten who i am.”

that earns a quieter reaction. people are still respectful, just a little more curious. you don’t say anything else.

caesar stands with you, takes your hand, raises it to the crowd, “district two’s rose—y/n!”

the applause swells. you let them cheer, let them look at you and see exactly what you want them to see. you smile, but it never quite reaches your eyes.

you step offstage into a rush of motion. the applause is still buzzing in your ears. immediately, you're swallowed by hands. valis’ voice hits first, sharp with breathless praise.

“you were perfect,” she says, adjusting the fabric at your shoulder, like there’s something to fix even though there’s not. “the smile, the posture, the answers. perfect.”

your prep team swarms in next, touching your hair, smoothing your dress, giving you anxious, excited looks. they all talk at once. someone hands you water, someone else mutters something about a strand of hair being out of place. you don’t listen. not really.

enobaria appears behind valis, arms folded. “well done,” she says simply. “you said everything we wanted them to hear. you owned the room. didn’t overstay, didn’t overshare. you were exactly what we needed you to be.”

you nod, just once, like you’re absorbing it, but your eyes are already moving up, to the screen above the door.

caesar’s still standing on stage, soaking up the applause that followed your exit. “and now,” he announces, voice rising again, “please welcome to the stage . . . our male tribute from district two—rafe cameron!”

the camera follows him as he steps into the light. his suit is simple, dark, collar slightly open like he couldn’t be bothered to wear a tie. and a small, barely-there detail: a single rose pin at his lapel. it matches the petals from your dress.

he takes the chair opposite caesar, leans back like he’s done this a thousand times, like he’s not about to enter a deathmatch, but like he’s sitting at a bar about to tell you a story.

you don’t realize you’ve stepped forward until valis gently tugs your elbow, ushering you to sit. but you don’t sit. not yet. your eyes stay locked on the screen.

you watch as caesar leans in, grin wide. “rafe cameron. i think you’ve just broken quite a few hearts in this room.”

rafe’s laugh is low, warm. just the right amount of amused. “that’s not my intention,” he says. “but i’ll take the compliment.”

the audience swoons. you can already see the headlines. the capitol’s favorite solder, the face of two, panem’s protector.

“now, you’re quite the mystery, rafe,” caesar says, smiling. “the training scores don’t lie. and you’re not exactly the loudest tribute we’ve had, but there’s something about you . . . something commanding. tell us, where does that come from?”

rafe shrugs slightly. “i grew up around people who didn’t let words mean much,” he says. “they taught me that actions matter more. if i make it out of that arena, it won’t be because i talked my way through.”

gee, you two are looking like two peas in a pod now.

“so no fancy speeches?” caesar teases.

rafe smiles again, slower this time. “if i give a speech, it’s probably because i’m buying time to get behind you.”

the crowd loses it.

even caesar laughs, clapping his hands. “oh, i like you.”

valis murmurs something beside you, something about how his phrasing is perfect, how he’s sticking to the plan, how he’s a dream.

caesar asks about the arena next, like what he’ll do when it all starts.

“i’ll fight,” rafe says. “that’s what i’ve been trained to do.”

“and if you’re not the last one standing?” caesar asks, voice softer.

rafe pauses.

and for a second, you see it, something flickering in his expression. “then i’ll make sure the person who is . . . deserves to be.”

caesar lets the silence hang for just long enough before rising to his feet and calling out his name like a victory bell, “rafe cameron!”

the applause slams through the studio again as rafe rises, nodding once to the audience, then turning to disappear into the wings.

when rafe walks past the prep teams and camera cords, he doesn’t stop until he’s beside you.

you nudge his arm, “panem’s protector?”

he hums like you’re challenging him, “our rose of panem?”

you roll your eyes, but there’s a smile in it.

the ride back to the apartment is quiet. brutus has already mumbled something about calling it a night and disappears into his room the moment the elevator doors open. enobaria lingers in the living room, speaking in low, clipped tones into a thin communicator tucked into her wrist. a family call, maybe. her voice softens when she says the name lynna. it makes you smile, even though you don’t know who that is.

you don’t listen in anyway. it’s not your place.

instead, you let valis and your prep team start their work.

they're gentler this time, quieter, more careful, like they know tonight is different. it’s not just an end to the public show, but the last stretch of normalcy before it all crumbles into the arena tomorrow.

the dress is removed, handled like it’s priceless. and maybe it is. your skin is wiped clean, their fingers warm as they dab off every trace of shimmer, rouge, gloss. even the kohl lining your eyes. it’s all erased, like none of it ever mattered.

you're back in your loungewear again. it’s just you.

you hear the other prep team working on rafe in the room across from yours with muffled voices, maybe some quiet laughter. his team has always been a bit more relaxed than yours. you wonder if he’s smiling. if he’s pretending he’s not scared.

you don’t speak to each other yet. not with all these people still here. but when they finally start to pack up, hands gentle and final, you feel a strange kind of grief tug at your ribs, like losing something you didn’t even know you were holding.

valis kisses the top of your head before she leaves. you don’t stop her. she doesn’t say goodbye just yet. she’s probably saving it for tomorrow. but she squeezes your shoulder and goes.

rafe’s team probably does the same. you hear the soft footsteps and hushed murmurs, and then the front door hisses shut behind them, and it’s just the four of you now.

brutus is silent behind his door. snoring, probably.

enobaria’s still talking in the living room, but her voice is fading into something calmer. laughter, even.

you don’t mean to sit down on your bed. you just find yourself there. your fingers twist the edge of the blanket without thought. your gaze is trained somewhere between the floor and nothing at all.

you should rest, but your mind doesn’t want to. it’s loud now. strategies, maps, faces, weapons, alliances, weak points. it’s all there, all fighting for space in your head.

it feels like studying for an exam in school, except this time, a wrong answer doesn’t just mean a bad grade. it means a knife in your throat. a cannon fire. a name in the sky.

you hate that thought. you hate it. but it’s real. you have to be the one who survives. you can’t afford not to be. not after all this. not with how many people are counting on you. but then again . . . the games don’t care what you deserve. and luck doesn’t care either.

you’ve seen it in old games before. it doesn’t even matter if you’re strong, or fast, or smart. one misstep, one wrong branch or trap or breath, and it’s over. that’s what scares you, not the killing.

you shift and lay back, arms at your sides, eyes on the ceiling. you think about the arena, what it might be.

a sunken city, maybe. collapsing buildings, rusted steel and water pooling beneath cracked rooftops. a place where every step is a risk.

or maybe something dry and open. a desert with no real water source comes to mind. but no, they wouldn’t do that. it would end too quickly. there’d be no tension, no drawn-out battles, no long, bloody entertainment.

they need a spectacle this year. the tributes are too good. the scores too high. no one wants to see a short game.

you sigh, and roll to your side. the fabric of the blanket scratches slightly against your cheek. you’d watched the rest of the interviews once you were back in your room earlier. nothing stuck except for a girl from five. her name slips your mind, but not her face, her hands didn’t fidget when she spoke. and the guy from eleven. there was something in the way he hesitated before answering certain questions. something he didn’t want to give away.

you’ll remember that if you see them again. like, you’ll see him before the bloodbath surely, but once you’ve taken what you need tomorrow and start to survive in the arena? it’s weird to know you might never see them again.

you close your eyes for a second, but the quiet only sharpens. the light dims in your room after it’s suspected no movement from you, and you let it. maybe your room without light will make you calm down.

there’s a soft knock at your door, like three light taps.

you blink, lifting your head slightly, already assuming it’s enobaria. maybe she’s just checking in, saying goodnight before finally calling it. you half expect her voice on the other side, ‘rest up. don’t waste your nerves now.’

but instead, the door cracks open slowly, just enough to reveal a boyish, crooked smile, like he’s trying not to laugh. like he’s about to say something really stupid. your heart flickers in your chest when you realize it’s rafe.

he doesn’t say ‘wakey wakey,’ but the look on his face might as well scream it. he leans his head in a little more, eyes squinting like he’s checking if you’re already asleep. when your mouth twitches into a smirk, he smiles wider.

you sit up slowly, brushing a blanket wrinkle smooth with your hand. “you look like you’re about to break in and rob me,” you mutter, eyes squinting back at him, amused.

he gives a dramatic glance over his shoulder, like he’s being tailed, before slipping fully inside and nudging the door shut behind him with his heel.

“can i crash here for a bit?” he scratches the back of his head like it’s casual, like it’s normal for him to just be here, hovering in the half-dark with his hair still a little tousled from the prep team’s touch.

you raise an eyebrow, but he doesn’t explain. he just doesn’t have to. you figure he just wants to go over strategies, maybe revisit some of the things you two talked about earlier. one last brain meld before the big plunge. you nod and scoot back until you’re flush with your pillows, tugging the blanket over your lap and leaving plenty of space.

he takes the opportunity immediately like a damn cat. rafe shuffles across the floor in a quick motion and flops forward onto your bed, stomach first, the heels of his feet hanging off the edge. he sighs dramatically into your mattress like he’s just dropped the weight of the world behind him. which, to be fair, he kind of has.

for a little while, you just talk. nothing important. dumb things, mostly.

you make a joke about brutus’s snoring sounding like a broken hovercraft. rafe brings up how his prep stylist nearly burned off his eyebrows with some kind of capitol serum today. he mimics the voice of caesar from earlier, going all wide-eyed and grand, waving his arms in mock imitation, “the stunning, the spectacular, district two's shining girl, y/n!” and then immediately butchers your last name on purpose.

you laugh. you genuinely laugh. it feels strange in your throat. his grin is lazy, but then it gets quiet.

not awkward quiet. not heavy yet. just quiet enough that you can hear the tick of the wall clock and the hum of some ventilation system in the room. you realize you’ve been playing with your fingers for a while. twisting them in your lap, knuckles cracking faintly. your breath feels a little tighter.

he doesn’t say anything at first. but his head turns slightly toward you, like he knows it’s coming. and then you ask.

“do you think they’ll make it fast?”

he blinks, eyebrows pulling together slightly. “who?”

“any of us.” you keep your voice low. “or if they’ll . . . drag it out. for the audience.”

they always want a show when someone dies. the words feel like glass in your mouth, but you say them anyway. it’s too close to tomorrow not to. and the longer you hold them in, the more they burn.

rafe’s smile fades a little. he rolls onto his side to face you better, his elbow propped up beneath his cheek. “depends.”

“on what?”

he shrugs. “how interesting they think we are.”

you look at him, really look at him. you know that you two have to be one of the most interesting of the litter this year. no doubt about it. it’s not even being cocky, but you don’t even have to question whether you’re interesting enough.

his brows are furrowed, like he’s working through something of his own now. whatever mask he wears for everyone else, it’s off tonight. it’s just rafe. he exhales softly, like something’s sitting heavy in his chest.

“sometimes i think . . .” he starts, then stops. his fingers drum lightly against your blanket. “i think i’ve spent my whole life being trained to win a game i never actually wanted to play.”

your heart twists. none of his words are you. you can’t relate to that, at least not fully, but you shift slightly closer. “then why play?” you ask, just above a whisper.

he stares at the ceiling. “because people expect me to. and because if i don’t . . . someone else dies in my place, i guess?”

he turns his head toward you again, his eyes softer than before. you both sit in the quiet for a long moment.

at some point, you don’t know what time it is, don’t even bother to check the clock, but you know the night’s not long enough. not with tomorrow looming the way it is. the games. the arena. the countdown that won’t stop ticking.

rafe’s still lying on your bed, arms folded under his head, his legs half hanging off the edge. his shirt is rumpled, and there’s a faint line across his cheek from where he must’ve pressed his face against his arm a little too long. he’s quiet, but not asleep. you can tell. his eyes are still open.

you don’t talk at first. it’s the kind of silence that doesn’t feel awkward, just tense, like you’re both listening to the same thing.

nothing will be the same after tomorrow.

you shift, pulling your blanket higher over your lap, fingers fidgeting with the edge. rafe swallows, shifting slightly.

“i think . . .” he starts, voice low as he breaks the silence. he hesitates. you don’t think it’s the kind of hesitation that means he doesn’t know what he’s about to say, but maybe it’s the kind where he does, and it scares him.

finally, his voice breaks through the hush again, “i think my dad rigged the reaping for me.”

you blink, hard. your first reaction is confusion. your mouth parts slightly, like the words don’t compute. you stare at him, processing. “what?”

he finally shifts. he sits up slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, like he can’t say it lying down. “i think my dad rigged the reaping,” he says again, quieter now. like he’s still not sure if saying it out loud makes it more real or less.

you just stare. your brain takes a second to catch up. “okay, but how can . . . how can someone even do that?”

he huffs. “if they’ve got enough pull. i told you my dad’s a high-ranking peacekeeper. i wouldn’t put it past him.”

you just watch him.

he runs a hand through his hair. “i’m eighteen, it’s my last year. last shot. he’s been pushing for this forever since i was a kid, always said it was ‘in my blood’ or whatever as if he ever did it when he was my age. warriors, winners, glory, all that bullshit. i thought maybe i’d made it through. like maybe he gave up. but then my name got called and . . .” he shakes his head. “i knew.”

the silence between you thickens.

“so,” you say slowly, “you didn’t even want . . . to be here.”

“not like this.” he says it flatly, like he’s already accepted it. like it’s just a fact.

you nod, but your stomach turns. you think about how fast you raised your hand, how fast you moved toward the stage. how you didn’t even hesitate. you wanted it. you asked for it. and he didn’t. he was shoved in, boxed up and dropped into it like a piece on a game board.

you look away for a second, a sharp tightness in your chest. guilt? maybe. maybe something more complicated than that. you shouldn’t care. don’t get too attached. everyone should accept their fate, but for some reason, you just can’t let this shake.

“i didn’t know it could even be rigged,” you say after a moment.

“most people don’t. the blame would go immediately to the capitol for it, and they can’t afford that. already have too much to worry about.”

you glance back at him. he’s looking straight ahead now, somewhere past the door, unfocused. he looks tired. not in the way everyone looks tired, but in a way that’s deeper. oh. he’s been carrying this for too long.

“so then what was it like?” you ask. “growing up with him.”

he doesn’t answer right away. then he laughs dryly. “loud. exhausting.” he rubs at his jaw. “everything was a test. everything had a consequence. there was no playing. no room for mistakes. if i cried, i was weak. if i hesitated, i was a failure. he used to time me doing drills in the backyard. would get pissed if i didn’t beat my last record.”

you don’t say anything. you’re not sure what you could.

“i don’t think he ever really saw me,” rafe mutters. “just some idea of who he wanted me to be.”

you shift closer without thinking, just enough that your knee almost touches his. your blanket shifts with you. you don’t say anything dramatic, don’t try to fix it. you just sit there with him.

“i’m sorry,” you say hesitantly, quietly, something you’re not used to. but you’ve been thinking that maybe you should now.

he shrugs. “nothing to be sorry for. just how it is.”

you nod. it’s quiet again. but this time it feels different. there’s no performance here. no prep team, no sponsors, no cameras.

he leans back again, rests his head against the bed, eyes shut. you keep your gaze down.

he stays quiet for a while like he’s trying not to think too hard. and then, after a few more seconds pass, he speaks. “oh, but what about you?” he asks. “what were you like before all this?”

you glance over at him. “what do you mean?”

“before the games, or the training center, or before your name was even in the pool. what’d you care about? what’d you want?”

you don’t answer right away. the question sits in your chest like a stone.

he isn’t asking in that surface-level way people do, the way interviewers or capitol hosts might. he isn’t fishing for a soundbite. he’s just asking because he wants to know. maybe because it makes everything feel a little less isolating if he knows someone else used to be a real person too.

you press your tongue to the inside of your cheek. sigh. “i don’t know. i think i was bored.”

it’s a poor way of starting this, but thankfully he doesn’t say anything. he just watches you, listening.

you shrug a little. “my mom works in records for the district. basically just moves files around and makes sure everyone else is on time. it’s as dull as it sounds. she's been doing the same thing since before i was born. every day. same path to work, same lunches. she gets home, sits in the same chair, turns on the same channel, and that’s her night.”

you pick at the blanket in your lap. “my dad’s a peacekeeper too. nothing like yours, i think, but he plays the game. he keeps his head down, follows orders. they’re both good people. i know it. i think they’re just . . . resigned. like they don’t expect anything more. i was probably gonna end up doing what my mom does, to take over her job eventually. get slotted into the same chair, the same shifts. get used to silence.”

your voice drops. “and yeah, i didn’t want that.” you glance at rafe again, “i didn’t want to be invisible.”

you laugh once. “i thought volunteering would make me matter. thought it’d give me some kind of identity, some pride. like maybe people would look at me and see me for once, i guess.”

he doesn’t answer right away, and for a second you wonder if it sounds ridiculous out loud. like a kid trying to win gold stars in a system designed to kill them.

but rafe just nods, slowly. “makes sense.”

you exhale, finally letting your back rest against the wall too. you turn your head slightly. “what about you?” you ask, softer now. “if you didn’t get reaped. if your dad didn’t, whatever the hell he did to get you here, what would you be doing right now?”

his jaw clenches a little. you can tell he’s thinking, but you can also tell the answer’s not easy.

“i’d be home,” he says finally. you glance at him, but you don’t push. “probably walking sarah to school,” he adds. “she hates waking up early. always complains the whole way there.”

a faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but it doesn’t last long. “wheezie would already be up, probably trying to get out of eating whatever our stepmom cooked for breakfast. she used to slip it into her jacket pocket and then flush it when no one was looking.”

you smile, just a little. it’s the first time you’ve heard him talk about them. “you have siblings?”

he huffs a breath, a little like a laugh but not really. “yeah. two sisters. sarah’s sixteen. we used to fight all the time, over nothing. she’s stubborn as hell but she’s smart. too smart, sometimes. wheezie’s thirteen. she’s got this habit of pretending she’s not listening, but she remembers everything. like . . . everything. it’s creepy.”

you smile, surprised. not because he has sisters, though that’s new, but because of the way he’s talking. you’ve never heard him like this. not in the training center. not in the interviews. not even on the rooftop.

“they sound like a handful,” you say.

“they are.” he pauses, then adds, quieter, “they’re good, though. better than me. wheezie would slack off during training more than me, but sarah’s good for it. all the camerons are.”

“you think they’re watching?” you ask.

he shakes his head. “i hope not. not if they’re smart.” he exhales slowly through his nose like he’s trying not to let something show. “they probably think i volunteered, talked my dad into saying my name,” he mutters. “i wonder if that’s worse.”

you don’t say anything. you don’t know what the right thing would even be.

he runs a hand down his face and lets it drop, then turns to glance at you. “any siblings?”

you shake your head. “just me.”

he nods like he figured. “that explain the volunteering?”

you almost laugh. “no. i mean . . . maybe a little.”

he waits. doesn’t push. but he’s looking at you now, and it feels like you owe him something, but you’ve already said it. “i just didn’t want to end up like my mom, you know,” you say like he already understands, and he does.

he looks at you for a beat longer, then nods like he gets it.

you both fall quiet again. you’re tired, and not just physically. it’s in your bones now, all of it. but sitting here, next to him, it’s a little easier to breathe.

and neither of you says it out loud, but you both know this might be the last night you ever get to talk like this. maybe that’s why it matters so much. maybe that’s why you don’t want to move.

but then there’s another knock. you and rafe both glance up at the same time, barely a beat after it lands, and the door creaks open. enobaria stands in the doorway, shoulder leaned into the frame. she lifts an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“are you two having a sleepover?” she drawls.

you deadpan right back, “why, you wanna join?” you toss her a look over your shoulder, one part playful, one part exhausted. it’s not a real invite, but it’s not not one either. you’ve never seen her act normal.

she huffs, something that’s almost a laugh, and crosses the room to pull the desk chair out. it gives a small squeak as she turns it around and drops into it backwards.

“cute,” she mutters. “but let’s talk strategy again.”

you groan immediately, flopping backwards like she’s just sentenced you to death early. rafe doesn’t miss a beat either, dropping his head until his forehead nearly hits the mattress, arms sprawled out beside him.

“what is this, homework?” you mutter into your pillow.

enobaria doesn’t smile this time. she’s watching both of you now, eyes sharp, tone steady. “listen,” she says. “you can complain all you want, but in the next week, one of you might die. or both of you. i’m not gonna sugarcoat it. i’m not good at that. but i know what works.”

you sit up again, slowly. rafe’s already half-propped on his elbows, listening now, even if his head’s still turned to the side.

“you two watch each other’s backs,” she says. “no matter what. no splitting up unless you have to, and even then, you circle back. don’t assume anyone’s dead unless you see it with your own eyes. and if it happens, if one of you goes, you make it mean something. don’t let it be for nothing.”

you can feel your throat tighten and your stomach turns. you glance at rafe. he doesn’t even look at you.

enobaria leans forward. “you don’t have to kill each other,” she says. “but one of you needs to come back. one of you has to. you understand me?”

you nod. it’s faint. rafe gives a slow blink. another nod.

“use everything you’ve learned,” she continues. “everything. don’t wait to be clever. if it’s brutal, be brutal. if it’s manipulative, fine. lean into it. alliances are fine for the first few days, but they always burn out. you two are a unit. don’t forget that.”

you shift in place, something in you itching. “you’ve seen this a lot, huh?” you ask.

enobaria gives a quiet nod. “more than i’d like.” she leans back again, resting her head briefly on the top of the chair.

“last year’s kid from four, ria, remember her? she got cocky in the final five. thought she had enough food stockpiled to wait the others out. didn’t account for an acid rain trigger that melted her stash. by the time she had to come out, she was half-starved and stumbled right into the final three’s ambush.”

you wince.

enobaria’s voice drops lower, thoughtful. “always account for change. for traps. for things that feel unfair. because they are. it’s a game, but it’s also a show. that means it’s rigged for drama. that means they want surprises. don’t fall into them.”

you nod again, slower this time. “okay.”

she exhales, like she’s getting tired of the weight of her own words. then she adds, almost offhandedly, “also . . . i don’t know. if it gets desperate, you could always start a fake romance or something. no one’s done a believable one in a while.”

you groan like she’s your older sister telling you something you don’t wanna hear, but rafe huffs out a soft laugh into the mattress.

she grins. “i’m just saying. the capitol eats that stuff up. doesn’t have to be real.”

“goodnight,” you say, waving her out.

“just keep it in your pocket,” she smirks, standing. you scowl at her through narrowed eyes. rafe’s still half-buried in the bed, clearly choosing not to comment. enobaria starts for the door. “get some rest. you’ll be up late enough tomorrow.”

you turn your head on your pillow as she leaves, watching her go. she stops in the doorway just once more.

“noon,” she reminds the two of you. “we’ll say our goodbyes then.” and then she’s gone.

the door clicks shut, leaving the room. you exhale hard into your pillow, bury your head deeper into it.

rafe hasn’t moved much. he’s still stretched out across your bed, holding himself up on his elbows, staring at the far wall like it might offer answers.

you stare at the pillow beside you. you don’t know why, but neither of you say anything. you just sit there, processing.

@nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @ariiwritess @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @rafestar @drewstarkeyzwhore @drewsephrry @annaconscience @writtenbyhollywood @yourtypicalteenagegirl @daisydark @v4mpscrms @issahruiz @ilovefictionallmenn @derpjungkook @vanessa-rafesgirl @sunny1616 @alphabetically-deranged @nrmlgirl @supercxnt @xoxosblogsblog @rafegetinmybed @siyahmoonlight @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @d-daxx @tsumudoll @ogcrashout @jjasmiineee @loverliner @ailimedae @belle101200 @hiimbrina @nomup @ayy1234567 @girxwrp @k4yr14

[suffocatedxpansion]

you aightt lately ?? iahhvent been oon tumbllr in AGGESSSS whatts up thiigh ?

im doin pretty okay!!!! aside from last week where the Uterus Fuckery happened and i had like 7 mental breakdowns.

but i will make a list on things that i remember happened

got a moirail

started dating a mutual

started dating a second mutual

ex friend who was abusive found my account and fucking dmed me and then deactivated bc he 'felt bad'

moved accounts that night

like 3 weeks in everyrhing was fine then an ex friend started acting rlly rude and bitchy and blocked me because it thought i was 'anti transid' (im not, just harmful ones and i dont really use them anyway.)

said it was upset i wanted to 'kill its friend' even tho it said 'i give you full permission to kill her.' 3 days prior

said friend is a radqueer prat who just says they arent (its vriskafic8tion on a new account)

this happens repeatedly where i am sent threats from ex friend and stuff and people defend it for doing so?

said friend also does this to other friends, tells my boyfriends to do awful stuff to themselves, yadda yadda

theyre still defending it

i have to break them off and my moirail just says 'you dont understand quadrants' because i expressed discomfort with it being friends with the threat sender

?????

nothing happens

i watch ex friend crumble relationships and push everyone who defended it away and then blame it on 'being suicidal' and says 'do not commit suicide youll end up with 7 friends instead of 20.' like it didnt send threats and shit

that was sad but also like 'damn welcome to karma'

i try and talk to vriskafic8tion to understand and heelp

rhat doesnt turn out well! (do NOT go in my #discourse tag it is a NIGHTMARE)

APPARENTLY ME BEING INTERSEX AND HAVING PCOS IS A ME ISSUE AND SINCE SHE WANTS IT SHE CAN HAVE IT TOO EVEN THO SHE MOST LIKELY DOESNT

oh shes misanthropic. mmm

idk man getting RACIST vibes from her and speciest vibes

wwhateva i suppose no one likes her anymore

i thik thats it??? hi tho :p

[misfithive]

18 and 19 for the YR ask!💜

~heartbreakprincewille

😁😁 yay!!! These are kinda hard 🤧

18. Unpopular opinion you have about the show or the characters

Im conflict averse so no one tear me up in the tags okay lolol i’m just a babyyyyyy (i’m not)

Sooooo I want Simon to express himself more but I don’t want him to have a full mental breakdown. A lot of people (maybe this is a twitter thing) want him to breakdown sobbing and crying S3. He is my baby and i want to protect him at all costs and i already feel like they have been through enough, anything else is torturing them seriously please Lisa i’m begging you to let them be happy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tears are healthy and i hope he can process his emotions and all that but I’m scared.(edit: i know this is YR so i’m mentally preparing myself for the pain)

Second unpopular opinion is fredrika is a mean girl 🫤 the gossiping and obsession with Wille’s sexuality totally bothers me. still for the stella +frederika agenda tho 😁

19. Whats a headcanon you have about any of the characters?

Okay I’m not very good at hcs bc i take a lot at face value 💀 (¡autism!) so these may not count as hcs and more like assumptions ?! But that’s all i can offer I’m sorry.

My most strongly held hc is that the scar on Simon’s face is from Micke (☹️). And that he did more harm to Sara and Simon than has been addressed in the show. I think there is a deeper reason why they agreed not to have secrets between the two of them that has to do with Micke. I hope we get answers to this s3. I will be very disappointed if we never find out.

(Also he is just so pretty in this picture i think i’m dying a little inside every time i see it)

Feel free to ask me more questions !!! Or share your opinions about my opinions as long as it is not simon slander.

[roocomehome]

hey rooo 😝 4-6 for the editing questions!

gatekeeping this post under the cut, it got lengthy 🤧🤧

4: If you can remember, why did you start editing?

Okay, so this may be a little off topic, but it still talks about editing LMFAO but I started editing mainly cuz one day I saw Minimooberrys renders and was like WOW okay, I want to learn to do THAT and editing, so she was a MASSIVE inspiration for me to start, not only that but I also watch solitasims and lovvvvvveeeddddd her stuff, and wanted to do what she did but mix in editing :) (I think that answers the question, idk I guess like, I've always wanted to edit, but more importantly the want to learn how to render and also do storytelling in TS4 helped motivate me to start editing if that's a better answer)

5: if you caption your edits, what do you decide to put in the caption?

I tend to keep the caption relatively clean (tags are where you get my reaction and shit LMAOO), if you take Leo and Roos posts for example, they're song related, so I'll put some lyrics that I think correlate to them and the scenes placed in the post ("and then you looked right back and caught my stare"), or sometimes scenes not necessarily mentioned in the post, but can be heavily implied or just assume occur ("It's really nice to talk to you, it's really nice to hold your hands," which implies that they talk a lot and that they do hold hands a lot, whether it be romantic or platonic 🤧). There's other situations where I don't have a song (tbf the Reo posts were the first posts where I did put songs agsiabs), like the valentines day prep posts, I just put "valentines day preparations: [sim perspective]", or like in earlier NSB posts, I just put prev / next cuz idfk what to put in the caption. With more recent posts, ive been trying to caption the posts with something related to the characters (like cataleyas drowning post, where it basically lays out the metaphor for the post, which is "too much love from the wrong person").

6: give us a quick breakdown of your editing process

WOW okay, LMAOO well, I'm gonna have to whip out my laptop for this one

For Cas shots: Usually i put cas shots together, so first thing I do is import the images I want to use in a 6000 by 3000 canvas (to preface: I do all my CAS ss in the dimensions 3000 by 3000), and I usually choose from a few mental presets, two headshots and a body shot, two head shots and a half body shot, three body shots, and theres more to list but im not gonna do all that LMFAO so after that, I place them in their positions and then erase the black background (which DOES get tedious when two screenshots sorta overlap and have to make sure theres no black left around the sim), after that incredibly tedious and unnecessarily long process, sometimes I play around with flipping the character around (in the case of two head shots and one body/half body shot, I make the headshots face toward each other, so basically headshot > body shot < headshot- if that makes sense), although that can be placed anywhere in the editing process sometimes I do it earlier on or later on doesnt really matter lmao. Around this point, its just final touches, looking for weird shadows (which is USUALLY more prominent in blender renders, but it can happen), places where shadows look a little too sharp, and cleaning up those spots. For the VERY VERY final touches, I use sharpen and depending on the shot, contrast or saturation, I sometimes use the hue tool to make a certain color brighter or a different color, however I avoid the latter because it creates a weird effect on the picture, the sharpen tool is important for this part, because I tend to make the sharpen effect stronger on closer shots (head shots), or i dont change settings that much for decently faraway shots (half body shots) and i try to make full body shots to not have SUPER strong sharpen, but i tend to go on the lower end for full body shots aisuhdg

For in game screenshots: This is a bit different, so I import the screenshot that I'm using into a 3840 by 2160 canvas (the size the screenshot was taken with), depending on the shot i may add text, the font i use is Walter Turncoat (in most instances, they vary for different posts lmao), I make sure to color the text depending on whos talking or whats going on, a good example is in the catty drowning post and VDAY prep post, I dont do "[character]: [text]", i like the element of figuring out whos speaking (EVEN if it can be frustrating for me), i try not to make it too challenging to figure out, around my level of reading comprehension (/j), so like Catty is pink, calico is yellow, etc etc. I dont use as much sharpen with these shots since theyre clean as is. A lot of my shots like Gifs are pre-planned and thus is a different story, but in short I usually just edit the gif frames as usual and then put them together later. I also have a custom set of black bars to put around my screenshots bc even tho i do use reshades black bars, sometimes bloom or DOF messes with them, and have to put a clean set above them. I dont really know what to say that is quick, I guess for more "complex" shots, like with moodlets or text messages, i just get the assets online and then edit them for myself 😭

and LASTLY, for renders: Trying to keep this short, I usually just do what I do for the aforementioned shots, but like I said in the CAS shots, weird and sharp shadows are more prominent and I just edit those to make them cleaner and then also just add sharpen and make it brighter or more contrast-y idk 🤧

[stormyjisung]

OKAY OKAY, I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR THE PERSON I AM ABOUT TO BECOME IN THE TAGS AND NOTES. 

i shall give a very DETAILED breakdown about every member’s song choice because i feel VERY STRONGLY about these two topics lol

1- chan as enchanted

when i tell u i audibly gasped, i AUDIBLY GASPED. It fits him so well!!!!! like YES. He already has that dreamy vibe that is encapsulated so well with the song enchanted, “Im wonderstruck, blushing all the way home”  no because mr chris bang needs to start paying for the doctors bills because of how much heart palpitation’s he’s causing stays to have.

2- Lee know as all too well

usually i dislike when leeknow is written as an asshole, and i thought so too when i saw the song title you picked out for him op, but when i read through i could vividly see the image you were trying to portray!! like keeping aside all the heavy topics of this song, this song.. its just so fucking sad. and i feel like lee know is one of the members who feels very deeply (usually the case with tsunderes) and the aftermath of the breakup paired with this song is just perfect!!!

3- changbin as gorgeous. 

I WILL FUCKING SCREAM. I HAVE BEEN GETTING BIASED WRECKED BY CHANGBIN ALOT THESE DAYS AND THIS SONG and scenario JUST MADE ME FULL ON BAWL. WDYM HE’S THE MOST BEAUTIFUL MAN IVE LAID EYES ON. “you’re so gorgeous it makes me so mad” THATS RIGHT SEO CHANGBIN, SQUARE UP MF

4- hyunjin as lover

if changbin’s scenario made me bawl, this scenario made me curl up into a ball and contemplate the meaning of love. hyunjin and this song, no other song could ever suit him this much, our resident romantic boy, and lover, its one of the most intimate songs ive heard, perfecto.

5- jisung as begin again.

if you didnt already know, im in love with this quokka. and this song, THE MOST UNDERRATED SONG EVER. "you throw your head back laughing like a little kid" NO BECAUSE HE ACTUALLY DOES THROW HIS HEAD BACK WHILE LAUGHING. I AM NOT OKAY. WHEN WILL I HAVE A HAN IN MY LIFE??

6- felix as love story

another nice pairing op, tho i personally felt like felix suits more softer love songs like, "you are in love" or "hey stephen" but i loved the way you paired felix up with this song, definitely helped me look at felix in a different perspective because for me felix was always the softest lover boy, nice work op!!

7- seungmin as afterglow

yall mind if i scream real quick?? no?? okay. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

finally someone who appreciates this song!!! seungmin as afterglow is the most perfect thing ive ever seen (this is probably the fifth time im saying this in the same post but oh well) seungmin and angst just go so well together, and this, will die.

8- finally jeongin as wildest dreams

grrrrrrr, this was so angsty, i love it. like you projected jeongin in an entirely different light and i absolutely love it, because in my mind jeongin was more of songs like , "paper rings", the more joyful songs, 'falling for the first time' kinda vibe. but this, sheeshhhhhhhh. i really loved the imagery of it all

well done op!!

im so sorry for the entire rant but i just had to dlfkjlsdkfj

skz x taylor swift songs - ★｡･:*

pairing: skz x GN!reader

tags: fluff & angst [both apply for most of them!!] - also jeongin a is a tad suggestive

summary: the skz members in situations that are based on taylor swift songs

word count: 4.5K

for all my stayswifties <3 pls be my friends

CHAN - enchanted

the first time you'd laid your eyes on chan, the two of you were teens, at a gathering of all your parents friends, and as he's the son of your mothers best friend, they wanted you to be just as close as they were at your age. the moment he spoke to you, butterflies erupted in your stomach and you knew exactly how you felt about him in that moment, and those feelings only grew as the night went on. before you'd spoken to him, you felt uncomfortable and awkward, the youngest person in a room full of adults you'd only met a handful of times; many of which you couldnt remember, and all of that fluttered away when your eyes had met his.

you'd spent the entire night by his side, laughing at his jokes, ranting about your parents, hiding away where no one else could find you. you felt like you were in a fairytale, you'd never felt this way about anyone you'd ever met; of course you hadn't, you were only young.

all too quickly, the night came to an end and you had to say goodbye to each other. the two of you didn't want to leave, and with tears in your eyes, you gave him a hug, and begged your parents to let you see each other again as soon as possible.

the entire car journey home all you could think about was chan, how you ran through the garden hand in hand, how you'd danced under the fairy lights, and you face flushed red and heart soared every time you thought about him. you prayed that that wouldn't be the last time you'd see him, that this was the start of something new. you secretly hoped that he felt the exact same way about you as you did about him. you hoped that you were the only one, that there wasn't someone else waiting on him while you thought about him the way you were. you prayed that he wouldn't forget about you, you could just tell he was going to be on your mind for a long time. the entire night would stay present in your memory for the rest of your life. you pleaded over and over in your mind that tonight wasn't a dream, that he was real, that he was out there thinking the same way of you. that you would cross paths again one day soon. and you'll spend forever wondering if he knows how much meeting him meant to you.

and no matter whether you do meet him again somewhere in the future, or never see him again, all you know is that you were enchanted to meet him.

MINHO - all too well

too much time had passed since you'd last seen minho, you remember your last conversation in mid july, the harsh words you'd said to each other ingrained into your mind like scars that would never fade. now in september, you sat in your bedroom and wondered to yourself if he'd ever moved on from you, for you certainly hadn't. the absence of his presence was all too noticeable, the slightly cold autumn air surrounded you, he would have once shielded you from it, his strong arms wrapping around your body as you cuddle in your bed, watching endless movies, just the two of you, forgetting the entire world.

you remember last autumn, the first and only which you'd spent together. you remember watching the change in the colour of the leaves as they fell from the trees, you remembered being in minho's car as he drove you around his small hometown, hand on your thigh as you sang along to the radio together. you remember how you'd danced around his parents kitchen the first night you met them, the feeling of his hands in yours melting away all your worries. you remember how his parents had shown you pictures of him from when he was young, how his ears grew redder from embarrassment as you told him how cute he was. you remember how you'd given him your favourite scarf one night as you were walking home together, his nose significantly redder than usual as the wind whipped around the two of you. he'd kept that scarf, making sure to wear it when he was around you, and you'd still never gotten it back. you wonder if he still has it, does he still think about you when he sees it? does he remember all the moments as clear as you do? does it still smell like you? does it still remind him of the first autumn you'd spent in each others company, hand in hand?

and then you think back to the argument, how heated it had gotten between the two of you. you'd never seen him so genuinely upset, and at this point in time you couldn't even remember why you'd fought. you remember how you'd cried and begged him to talk it out with you, and he'd just left you, in the middle of the night, and never returned. he called you once, and you prayed it was him wanting to work it out. but it was only him asking that you leave his stuff outside so he wouldn't have to see you when he picked it up. and that broke you all over again, hearing the harshness of his words as he spat down the phone at you.

you remember how you'd waited for him all night on your birthday, wishing for even just a message, but nothing ever came. he was gone. all that was left of him in you was his memory.

the thought of the scarf drifted through your mind again, but you decided he'd probably thrown it out the night of the argument.

but across town, as if he could hear your thoughts, minho holds the scarf up to his nose with tears in his eyes, the memories of last autumn flooding back to him, wishing he could change something.

you both remember it all too well

CHANGBIN - gorgeous

the two of you had met at a mutual friends birthday, and although you had shown up with your boyfriend at the time, he was currently no where to be seen, and that didn't surprise you at all. he was the least of your concerns right now; it wasn't unusual for you to find him talking to multiple other girls while you stood around alone, but tonight you decided you wouldn't let his choices ruin your night.

and that's when you saw changbin from the other side of the room, and you were mesmerised from the second his eyes locked with yours. dark hair which perfectly complimented his dark eyes, the lights were shining perfectly on him that you could see his jawline and all of his muscles perfectly defined, and your heart almost stops. he's the most beautiful man you've ever laid your eyes on, and you're so upset that he's not yours. he smiles at you, your legs tremble and you have to look away, otherwise you might just fall to the floor infront of him.

you spend the next twenty minutes avoiding him at all costs, you were determined not to embarrass yourself infront of the most stunning man you've ever seen, so you hid in the kitchen for a long while, sipping on your drink slowly, when he suddenly appears. you almost choke on your drink when you see him and he chuckles, asking your name. his voice is just as beautiful as him and the slight anger you felt before bubbles back up in you as he talks, how dare he be so attractive and be in your presence, he's making you feel so many things and you've not even spoken for 5 minutes. he starts up conversation with you, but you feel yourself stumbling over your words every time he looks at you, it's so hard to concentrate with those eyes staring into yours. whilst he's speaking to you, you wonder if he has a girlfriend, and the blood drains from your face. of course he does, just look at him. you awkwardly splutter out the question and he laughs, shaking his head in answer. that makes you feel even worse, he's so pretty it actually hurts you a little bit.

after a while, you've started to get into proper conversation with him, with the help of alcohol of course, there's no way you'd be so confident without it right now. you're joking together, and his hand brushed across yours whilst you're in the dark kitchen and the trembling feeling you were met with when you first saw each other came back in full force. you feel so unbelievably sad that he can't be yours. you wish you could just go home with him instead.

the party comes to an end and your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen, but you couldn't care less. you'd been told he'd been seen kissing another girl and instead of getting upset, you turn to changbin and invite him back with you instead, and of course he agrees, and you felt happy because you'd finally gotten what you'd wanted that entire night, the most gorgeous man in existence, and nothing else mattered but him in that moment.

HYUNJIN - lover

you'd never loved someone as hard as you loved hyunjin, and you vowed to never love anyone that way again, he was your only one, and you prayed that you'd stay in each others company forever.

hyunjin made you feel like no one else ever had, you felt like you'd known him your entire life, there wasn't a single second of awkwardness between either of you. you were sure if soulmates existed, he was most definitely yours. the most perfect pair, nothing could ever tear either of you apart. you wished you could stay close to him forever, you never wanted to be apart from him, for her made you feel whole.

you remember when you moved into your house together, and how you'd agreed to let your friends stay the night in the living room, and giggling afterwards when you realised that it was your place now. you could do whatever you wanted in the space the two of you called your home. you spent months decorating the house to match both of your tastes; not that it mattered because you agreed on everything, whether that was furniture, colour palettes, paintings, the flooring, you saw eye to eye on everything. you couldn't ever see yourself disagreeing with him on something, especially something so small. the both of you thought so much alike it must just be meant to be. and you truly believed that. everything you thought was in parallel to him, how you both decided on leaving the christmas lights up until january just because you could; it's your place to decide on now, no one else's.

you remember how you'd worried one night that he would leave you for someone else, that if someone wanted him he'd go after it and he immediately reassured you that you were the only one for him, as you cried on his chest he stroked your hair and promised that he wasn't going anywhere, he wanted to spend every summer with just you like you had the previous ones, and you felt the same about him. you wanted to go everywhere with him, as long as you were by his side you were safe.

you promised to him that you'd always leave him a seat next to you, so that we're always by his side. because he's your lover, and you are his.

JISUNG - begin again

your last relationship had been the worst one you'd ever been in. whatever your other exes had done to hurt you, the last one did it ten times worse. you'd never felt so utterly disrespected by anyone you'd dated, and it felt so freeing to finally be away from it all. you remember how he'd always looked down on you, making you feel like nothing. he'd picked you apart, making sure to take stabs at all of your insecurities. there was no part of you that you'd felt he hadn't completely ruined. your self confidence was shattered.

and then on that one fateful wednesday, you met jisung.

for the first time in months, you'd left your small apartment to go back into your favourite cafe, the one that your ex hated, and stopped you from going in. he claimed it was trashy and cheap, but you thought it was cosy and safe. you walk in, book in hand and order your favourite coffee, ready to sit in your usual corner, when you notice someone already sat on the table. a blonde haired boy, scribbling in a book of some sorts, glasses falling down his nose. he looks up at you and smiles, and for the first time in too long, you felt free enough to smile back at him. you decide to sit on a table nearby which faced him, and start to read your book. every once in a while you'd look up and catch him looking at you, and you'd both look away and smile shyly to yourselves.

this same routine would go on for weeks, until he finally worked up the courage to introduce himself. and from there, everything started to fall into place. you'd started to sit together, he'd offer to pay for your drinks, you recommended him books whilst he let you read his scribbles which you'd quickly learnt were lyrics for songs he was writing. whenever you made a joke, he'd erupt into the most beautiful laughter, and you found it somewhat strange since your ex didnt ever laugh at your jokes. he'd pull your chair out when he saw you walking up to your usual table and you felt so cared for. he listened eagerly to all your stories, which your ex used to dismiss. he'd get to the cafe early for you, never standing you up, making sure there was always a drink ready for when you got there. jisung would tell you how beautiful you looked in every single outfit you wore. you wanted to bring up your ex every single time jisung did even the smallest actions for you, how your ex had never done any of these things for you, how he hated when you wore the clothes you picked out, how he'd ignore you when you spoke, how he would make fun of the music you liked, but you caught your tongue every time, realising jisung was nothing like him. and you'd finally met someone who understood and liked you for who you were.

and only a few weeks later, you and jisung were finally together, and it felt so right with him. you'd started to realise what love truly meant, and how you'd both fallen for each other, letting the past remain in the past and just enjoying how he made you feel.

you'd watched it all begin again, and this time it really was love.

FELIX - love story

not being allowed to have something, only makes you want it more, and the same could be said about felix.

the first time you ever spoke to felix was on your first day in a new high school, you'd been sat next to him by the teacher, and the minute he turned to you with his bright smile, you felt alot more comfortable with this new atmosphere. he was asked to show you around, and he took his job very seriously, showing you every single detail across the entire school, explaining the history, asking about what classes you'd be in, telling you about all the clubs he was in, trying to convince you to join one with him. but while he spoke, all you could concentrate on was his freckles, scattered across his face like stars in the night sky. you thought how nice it would be to sit and count them all, tracing over his soft features.

you were snapped out of your daydream when felix led you into his favourite classroom to hide away in, an old music room which looked like it hadn't been used in years. he spoke about how he'd sit in here alone to eat lunch, and asked if you'd like to join him, and of course you said yes.

every single day you would find yourself in that classroom with felix, and each day the two of you grew closer and closer, attached at the hip, no one had ever seen the two of you apart for longer than a few minutes, wherever he was, you'd follow behind. he'd wait for you in the hallways after your classes, he'd walk you to your bus stop, he'd bring extra food to share with you just in case you'd forgotten to bring something, and it was obvious to everyone around you that it wasn't just friendship for the two of you anymore.

he finally confessed one day in your classroom, he'd brought you your favourite snacks and a small bunch of flowers, sitting you down at one of the tables and taking your hands into his, looking down at the floor as he spoke, and when he finally admitted it, the only thing you could do was press your lips against his in response, letting him know exactly how you felt too. you remember his wide grin as you told him how you'd felt, finally being able to lightly trace over his freckles like you'd wanted to do badly on that very first day.

however, not everyone was thrilled about you and felix. your father, an overly protective and aggressive man wasn't happy to see you arrive home with a bunch of flowers that day, your smile giving away absolutely everything. he demanded you tell him what was going on, and you broke down in fear, spilling all of your secrets, how you'd been spending all you time with felix, how you'd fallen in love with him, and your father flew into a furious rage, ordering you never to speak to felix again. you nodded in understanding

but of course you didn't listen, felix was your everything, he made going to school worth it, he was the first thing you thought of when you woke up, and the last thing you thought about before sleeping. his smile warmed your heart, his hugs made you feel safe and protected, his voice was soothing and you wouldn't let your father take that away from you.

so you had to become more sneaky with felix, you had to pretend you were just going for walks whenever felix would invite you out, you'd hide the presents he gave you as best you could, you wouldn't speak about felix when you were home, you'd message him discreetly, but you didn't want to hide him anymore. months had passed since you had started dating and you wanted nothing more than to be able to spend the night with him, to be able to go on proper dates without fear of your father getting angry with you. you wished you could just run away with felix, leave everything behind, and be alone together.

but you were too late. your father caught you together with him whilst felix was walking you home. you father yelled at felix, demanding him never to stay away and never speak to you again. you broke down sitting on the front doorstep watching as the look on your sweet boyfriends face dropped and he walked away, tears in his eyes.

however that night never broke the two of you apart, for something forbidden is always more appealing, the risk of it all so addicting that it brought you closer together. your fathers words couldnt ruin this love story, no matter how hard he tried.

SEUNGMIN - afterglow

you hated fighting with seungmin, but these days it seemed to happen more often than not, and you were worried it was pushing you both to your breaking points. but this one was on you, and you'd do anything to fix it.

you were sat on your bathroom floor, your eyes still ringing from when he'd left and slammed the door. your stomach felt tight, you head was pounding and your hands were shaking. you felt so utterly sick when you replayed the moment back in your head, thinking about the harsh words you'd thrown at him. the fight was over something so small, that you felt so pathetic that you'd reacted the way you had, that this is how you'd ended up.

you'd gotten in from a long day at work and you'd noticed that seungmin hadn't done the dishes, and the laundry hadn't been put away. after such a stressful day, it completely set you off, and you'd shouted at him the minute he came to find you to ask you how your day was. you snapped at him, and he snapped back, he'd had just as bad of a day, and he was going to do the chores later, he was tired and wanted to relax with you for a bit before he got on with them, and you'd yelled at him for that. at that point you'd ran off to the bathroom, and that's when he walked out, slamming the door, no word of when he'd be coming back.

back on the bathroom floor, your sat crying into your hands, wishing you'd have just stayed quiet about it, or even just spoken to him about it. fighting over something so small felt so stupid to you now that you'd thought it over, and your trembling hands reached for your phone to ask him when he'd be coming back. he didn't reply, and you called him instead, which went straight to voicemail, only making you cry harder.

in the state you were in, you hadn't realised you'd accidentally sent him a voice note of you crying. he was taking a walk around where your apartment was, and he listens to the message, his heart breaking slightly. he can hear you speaking to yourself, getting mad at yourself for causing issues between you, and he immediately runs home, to find you still in the bathroom, still sobbing.

he opens the door to your shocked face, and immediately pulls you into his arms, reassuring you that it would be okay, and that you hadn't made him leave forever. you apologise over and over for how you'd spoken to him as he stroked your hair, telling you it'd be okay, and that he was sorry for reacting the way he did too. he reassured you over and over that he wasn't going anywhere, that the two of you were just fine. you cried harder, telling him that you didn't want to lose him over these things, that you didn't want to fight anymore, and he agreed. you were both determined to fix this between you

and that's exactly what you did. you sat opposite him on your shared bed, and laid out all of your worries to one another, all of your frustrations that had been causing the fights the last few weeks. once you'd done that, you made up by making dinner together, and cuddling afterwards leaving the chores another night, deciding they weren't important anymore and you'd do them together in the morning.

that night when you'd gone to bed, you laid awake thinking, thankful that he'd come back, thankful that he'd met you in the afterglow of the fight, and that you could fix it then and there.

JEONGIN - wildest dreams

jeongin made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world, he spoke to you like no one else ever had, he made you feel something no one else could.

but all good things come with a catch, and his was that you had to be a secret.

at first, it felt fun, he was driving you around different cities with the windows down, your hair flying behind you in the wind, his hand in yours as you sand along to the radio, the city lights illuminating his eyes. it felt exciting, hiding it away from everyone, having to hide the small marks he'd left on you when you'd been together, sneaking away from parties when no one was looking just to hide and be alone for a while. there was a rush every time you thought someone was close to finding out, it was addictive. he was addictive

but then it started to hurt. you wanted alot more than just running off places with him, you wanted to be able to put a label on the two of you, be able to do the things that real couples do, going on dates, kissing in public, holding hands. he'd start to push you away if you got too close, he'd gotten more paranoid that someone would find you out. you found that he'd ignore you for days at a time, and you started to wonder why you weren't what he wanted anymore.

did you embarrass him? did you say something to hurt him? maybe he couldn't stand the thought of being seen with you. maybe he'd gotten tired of you. those thoughts rushed around your head every single time he'd push you away, every time he'd not speak to you.

and one day you'd finally had enough, and you told him exactly that. you told him you wanted a real commitment, or the two of you were through. and he didn't object.

so just like that, it was over. months of thrills with him completely thrown away. all of the drunk makeout sessions in his apartment, the driving you through different cities, the marks on your neck from him, all meant nothing to you. it hurt at first, but you'd seen it coming. nothing lasts forever, jeongin was not an exception to that rule.

you sit and think about him often, all the things you did together, how before he'd started to push you away, he'd promised to take you out properly, to see you again. and he'd destroyed that.

all you hoped for him now was that he'd never forget you, that he'd never forget what you could have been, and that the memories of you follow him around. and haunt even his wildest dreams.

this is so long so big round of applause to anyone who reads all of it & sorry that the last three aren't as good i was running out of ideas </3 hope u enjoyed - reblogs & feedback is greatly appreciated!!

thank you for so much love on my last post too aaaaah

[descendantofthesparrow]

not me having two weird ass dreams last night

both were about thomas doherty (well, the 2nd one was technically thanks to him being the face claim)

[abyssaldyke]

Fucking around with this first chapter of dead cherry for next month's workshop knowing damn well I dont really like the opening and have no idea where the rest of it is going but I need somebody to read something and tell me what I'm doing wrong

[fairyhaos]

seventeen and exams

how i think seventeen will study for important exams

notes: inspired by me, and my friends, who are currently going through exams. tag yourself y'all, im jeonghan

masterlist

seungcheol:

tries to study rlly hard, spends an hour looking over his notes then proclaims loudly that test scores don't actually matter and you shouldn't base someone's self-worth on a bunch of numbers before throwing his stuff into the air. before he goes into the exam, he tells everyone to not expect anything from him. gets practically full marks. 

jeonghan:

one of those superstitious people who says that eating chocolate before having an exam helps you perform better. the members still don't know whether he actually believes it or uses it as an excuse to eat half a box of chocolate before his exams. meditates (prays) with minghao on the day of the exam. crams in the two days before, pulls all-nighters and is all charged up in caffeine and sugar. scores super high, so does it all again next time too

joshua:

goes round telling everyone to do your best!!! your best is all that you can do when it comes to tests and don't feel bad if you fail, especially if you're mingyu or seungkwan!!!! tutors the younger members in maths/ english when they get stuck, literally looks like a cute nerdy uni tutor when he puts on his rimmed glasses. claps when everyone gets their results, never tells anyone what his were

junhui:

firm believer of Winging It. hoshi swears that junhui has photographic memory or smth bc if anyone ever has a question about the material he answers back in record time despite having not looked at his notes Once ever since he wrote them in class. gets the third highest score out of all of them. is basically a genius trapped in a catboy's body

hoshi:

almost kills himself trying to cram for his exam a week before. lives on energy drinks, cookies and sometimes the carrot sticks that joshua brings him. gets asked by wonwoo if he's slept at all, answers with "red". can barely focus on the paper when he's in the actual exam bc he's so tired. is going to go back into hibernation once he's done the exam, couldn't care less about the result anymore

wonwoo:

he's a nerd, so he gets full marks. makes a three month study plan, ends up only following the first month of it and the last two weeks of it. randomly yells questions at junhui at various times during the day, gets increasingly more exasperated when the guy keeps getting the answers right. stays up the night before the exam playing games, blacks out during the test but still does rlly well

woozi:

he's studying for it, okay, just not as intensely as soonyoung or wonwoo. makes a study plan that's less intense than hoshi's (admittedly, that guy doesn't even have a plan, he's just stu-dying), manages to actually follow through with it. asks joshua to help him with some stuff, buys the elder chocolate after the exam when he does well

minghao:

meditates his way through it. nah, he's studying too. is more relaxed about it, believes that half of the exam is just knowing the right way to word stuff. you could learn half the content and pass with high marks. and tbh, he's right. uses almost exclusively flashcards, carries them everywhere to randomly test himself n others. goes to joshua and junhui to double check his info, makes sure that hoshi's supply of cookies is all stocked up

mingyu:

prays to the gods. he knows he's smart enough to do all this, but has the attention span of a ball of wool and none of it is Staying in his head. steals some of jeonghan's chocolate, cries in wonwoo's bed after he's done the exam saying that he failed it. is pleased when his test scores come back and he finds that he Didn't fail it at all. the little shit smh

dokyeom:

either passes really well, or just barely doesn't make the pass. is practically joshua's permanent student. part-time studying partner of hoshi, part-time breakdown partner of seungkwan. also steals jeonghan's chocolate before the exam. is the most positive when they get their test scores, bouncing around and hyping everyone up so they don't feel too worried

seungkwan:

has a mental breakdown four (4) times while studying. declares himself done with revising a total of six (6) times. his room is a mess of  papers and flashcards. followed the advice of people on the internet and bought a wall-covering whiteboard, which he's covered in red ink and his tears. has one last crying session with dokyeom in the corner of the living room the night before the exam. comes out of the hall saying how badly he messed up and makes the members feel so bad that mingyu buys him ice cream

vernon:

locks himself in his room, has his headphones on his head almost permanently. walks around the living room like he's never seen it before, stares blankly at all the members he encounters as if he's meeting them for the first time. no one knows what he's revising. or how he's revising. practically only comes out of his self-isolation the day of the exam, wishing everyone good luck before gliding out the door like some sort of spirit

chan:

is the one providing everyone with positive reinforcement even more than shua!! hypes everyone up, encouraging everyone to keep going. gives like 5 members shoulder massages every night. no one ever knows when he has time to revise by himself bc he's always sitting with someone and listening to them rant. does moderately well on his tests, is praised endlessly by his members bc they're so grateful for how much he helped them

currently taking requests

[chasingfictions]

Hi!! I would love to hear all the reasons you think Spuffy are the best match for each other and why you prefer them to Bangel. (Same, by the way :))

ok bestie hello this is an insane question first of all because no one should just give me free reign to talk about spuffy bc i could very well be here all day

first i'll say! i dont like, hate bangel. dkjfkdsf i feel like every time i reblog an anti bangel post i have the tag '#anti bangel #i dont hate them but tagging for blacklists" etc etc. because like, to me spuffy and bangel are just serving very different narrative functions, you know? and i think they both do those narrative functions very effectively! like there are levels and levels and levels to this.

but if we wanna look at it in the most basic terms of story structure, i consider bangel a tragedy in the classical sense and spuffy a comedy in the classical sense. when i say comedy i dont necessarily mean humor (though also i DO bc, as my catchphrase goes, spike btvs said it's always a joke and it's always serious!!!).

simply speaking: tragedy ends in despair and comedy ends in joy. [insert requisite 'obviously it's much more complicated than that but that's not what we're here to talk about' here] ... anyway this is gonna be Long so i'm readmore-ing bon appetit

bangel & the tragedy of heteronormativity

like i know spuffy has the reputation as like the tragic and edgy and depressing of the two ships, and i do get why, but to me bangel fulfills that function much more profoundly. they just ... don't work. like, for this lovely shining moment they do, and they're so caught up in each other, and it's that first love insanity of you can't even process what's happening you're just so totally overcome with the feeling. but critically that lasts for like, a second? like, it's basically "the dark age" to "surprise" that bangel is like, officially together and dating and happy. this is also coincidentally my favorite bangel era! like, just a freaky slayer and her freaky creature of the night boyfriend and they're horny and obsessed with each other and making out in cemeteries and having monster-face makeouts at the ice rink when buffy still has demon blood on her skate blades :))) like :)))) that's the good stuff :)))

ive also seen buffy just like, a million times, and i definitely had a lot more tenderness for them in a romantic sense on earlier watches, and then rewatching this time around i realized really all of that tenderness is basically about that era, which lasts for a narrative second. like the thing that struck me during my current rewatch of s1 and s2 is how long they spend in this weird posturing communication breakdown cycle and circling around each other like cage fighters. and they do have some moments in s3 that romantically-speaking i find compelling — or ok, just the "bad girls" arm jump is coming to mind right now but im sure there are others maybe lol (and even the bad girls arm jump is like,,, okay liam if buffy summers jumped into MY arms at the bronze i would experience a moment of spiritual ecstasy and yet you are not remotely looking like youre having a good time .... get help and appreciate her more).

but also the other thing that struck me in this rewatch of s3 is they break up like, every other episode? which narratively i do find equal parts hilarious and compelling from a structural standpoint. like okay obviously they are broken up to begin with in "beauty and the beasts" (broken up is kind of a hilariously small description for what they are at that point, but we're itemizing here). and then they friend break up in "lovers walk." and then they get back together in "amends" and break up again / go on a break in "enemies" and then reconcile in "earshot" and then break up For Real in "the prom" and then have that mini-reconciliation in that same episode and then are obviously still full of romantic context in "graduation day: part i" and she calls him her lover and they essentially have a sex scene when he bites her, and then they break up for good for good in "graduation day: part ii" ... pause for intake of breath bc i do feel like i just ran a marathon

— and to me that speaks to their asynchronousness!!! like the beauty and also the tragedy of bangel is that they almost work, and they want to work, but they can't, and they don't. like, to me they're just not equally matched as a couple. angel has this frustrating paternalism towards buffy (see: calling xander "just a kid" and telling faith she's "not much more than a child" and soulless angel calling buffy "kiddo" and it's like okay so clearly you do see her as naive and childlike and that's a Weird Relationship To Have To Your Partner...). He's constantly making these unilateral decisions that affect them both without consulting her — "i will remember you" is a great example of this to me. like people lift that up as a reason their relationship would work if they were just "normal." but in that episode angel makes a decision to alter buffy's memories and timeline and doesn't even tell her afterwards. or in "graduation day" — like obviously you can break up with your partner at any time you're allowed to do that, but the fact that he says he's just going to leave town and not say goodbye? to me feels needlessly cold and manipulative. there's also the fact that i think angel is much more of a person when he's not with buffy. neither of them really feel relaxed or silly or lighthearted around each other. it's always life or death and pain and terror and wanting, for the most part, with very minor levity.

and, to that point, i think the other really compelling narrative tragedy of bangel is the impact it has on buffy's relationship to her own slayerness and — conversely — to her queerness. im not gonna go into a big thing here on exactly why being the slayer is analogous to being queer because that's a whole nother essay? but blah blah "have you tried not being a vampire slayer?" / "i've tried marching in the slayer pride parade" / the "new moon rising" conflation of willow dating tara with buffy dating demons etc etc etc. like, one of the reasons i have warm feelings about early/mid-s2 bangel is that I think it's the queerest era of their relationship. it's buffy revelling in her "cradle robbing creature of the night boyfriend" and being attracted to his vampirism and "you're the one freaky thing in my freaky world that still makes sense". s2 bangel is compelling because it's freaky. because it's monstrous. it's sexual and messy and strange has undertones of queerness.

and then, of course, "surprise" / "innocence" happens. buffy is punished by the narrative and by angel for giving into her desire for this monster. buffy spends the next half a season being terrorized and watching people she loves die or almost die because of it. and then when s3 happens, you can't just go back to how it was! they're fundamentally altered by the trauma of s2! the freakiness of them is gone and instead they're playacting heterosexual normality because anything else is Unsafe. it's in the way buffy starts dressing somewhere between a housewife and jackie kennedy (which ok is also related to her feeling destabilized by faith and that whole bi panic but one thing at a time). it's in angel's nightmare about buffy bursting into flames after their big empty church wedding. it's in the mayor, this figure of patriarchy incarnate, telling them they can never have a "normal" relationship and angel believing him. when like, mister liam of galway she's a vampire slayer, normal was never even in play. it's in — critically! — angel breaking up with buffy by calling their relationship a "freakshow." that bit will never not break my heart.

so yeah when i say i don't hate bangel that's kind of what it's about? like they're not my favorite relationship but i do think they're an important story. tbh that's my relationship with most ship media like, even if something isn't your thing it does still fulfill a narrative function. and like, to me the narrative function of angel is to be the boyfriend buffy gets over. to be the first love and the adolescent wound. to be the trauma she can recover from in order to learn how to love again in a healthy and adult way.

spuffy & the comedy of queer futurity

OKAY so that brings us to spuffy im about to get SO insane hello!!! hello!! literally Hello Okay. i dont even?? dfkldsjfsdjf anon i hope u know this is an INSANE ask i think about them all day every day and the idea of summing up WHY and having it be COHERENT is just?????? like bangel i have cohesive enough thoughts about to be like yeah this is my argument for why i feel the way i do but spuffy is like????? ok i have a personal theory that u dont choose ur btvs endgame ship it chooses you. like spuffy gripped me by the throat at age 13 and said hello!! and i said oh ok!!! ok i'll think about you forever thanks!!!!!!!!!!!! thank you!

but OKAY on the narrative thread of bangel as this ship of heteronormative tragedy, to me spuffy is this ship of queer exaltation. spuffy as a queer relationship has been much expounded on already — like we've all seen @johnaeryns's lesbian spuffy manifesto which is art and changed the timeline by the way!!!!

ANYWAY. like queer spuffy is in the secretness of their relationship, it's in "you think i haven't tried not to?" it's in "i'm all stay-inny" it's in "this? with you? i know it's wrong" it's in "it's wrong, i'm wrong, tell me that i'm wrong please," it's buffy turning what angel used to break up with her back on spike, angel saying "you deserve more than this freakshow" and buffy telling spike "last night was the end of this freakshow." it's in the way buffy feels so much shame about her relationship with spike, the way she hides it. the way a lot of that comes from the angel trauma. angel tells her she should find a "normal" guy so that's just what she goes out and does, and pursues riley, except riley can't really Understand her. like biley to me feels like the experience of being bi in a relationship with a straight person who doesn't really Understand.

and that's the thing about spike, is he understands. it's the way spike comes into the narrative as a New Kind of Vampire who does in the old stodgy vampire cults and buffy comes into the narrative as a New Kind of Slayer who has friends and a life. and they're marked as parallels by the text in this way from the Beginning. school hard red stripes my Beloved <3333.

it's the way in becoming part ii which is forever my favorite episode of tv, buffy has no one, by the narrative's own declaration. it's buffy saying "i got nothing left to lose" and spike saying "i'm all you've got" and buffy's "me" to angel's "take all that away and what's left?" it's buffy's "no, i don't" to angel's "you really think you can take us all on by yourself?" and it's the fact that buffy's whole life is falling apart and everything is ending, she's lost kendra, she's lost angel once and is about to lose him again, she's lost her place in the real world with her expulsion from school, she's lost her place in her family by being kicked out and then here's this guy. this vampire who's on her side and who likes the world enough to save it even though he shouldn't want to and there's something about buffy telling whistler "well why don't you try fighting evil for a change because i'm sick and tired of doing it myself" and here she's not doing it herself??? because spike???? is here??????????

it's the queerness of spuffy in how spike is present for her literal coming out, it's the way they fit so easily together when they have no right to, which itself is a queer narrative. it's, all in that same episode, with their easy banter about the band and the way they instinctively work together in a fight and the way the fact that he's even invited to her house indicates this bizarre undercurrent of trust and understanding. this feeling of alignment and affinity that transcends other bonds and boundaries.

it's the way they match each other, and how that matching is explicitly tied to buffy's identity as a slayer, to her as a fighter, to her connection to the demon world, to the things that give her symbolic queerness (she also has lots of non-symbolic queerness, but again, one thing at at a time, like if we had to also get into how gay buffy is for cordelia and kendra and faith we'd be here all day). it's "i'd rather be fighting you anyway" / "mutual" and it's "you think we're dancing?" "that's all we've ever done" and it's "but i can't fool myself. or spike for some reason" and it's the way the fight is a dance to buffy and spike recognizes that, it's the way spike just knows her.

fool for love is insane for this reason (and many others) it's buffy seeking out knowledge about her essence, herself as a slayer, and she turns to spike. it's spike having insight, its the way spike is obsessed with slayers, and that's another element of the queerness of spuffy imo. a vampire psychosexually obsessed with slayers. a slayer psychosexually obsessed with vampires. the way being a slayer is already being a Woman But Wrong and buffy queers it even further with her erotic fascination with the monsters she's meant to kill, and spike's always already meeting her in the middle, because he's been obsessed with slayers since he knew what they were. the way spike's coat, the symbol of his selfhood, is a slayer's coat and a woman's coat and they're both meeting in this middle ground of Wrong Weird Queer Fucky Gender and are Understanding Each Other in that middle ground.

it's the way buffy understands the hero in spike that's not supposed to exist because he's supposed to just be a monster. it's the way spike understands the monster in buffy that's not supposed to exist because she's supposed to just be a hero.

it's season 5, the insanity of spike falling in love with a hero and slowly learning to be good for her, and he doesn't know how and he shouldn't even be able to learn how but he does, the way he's willing to sacrifice his life for dawn and in "intervention" and "the gift" he's prepared to do just that. this is one of the main reasons i talk about spuffy as soulmates but he doesn't have his soul yet. that spike as a human was so full of love, that love is still is guiding principle as a vampire, that it in places acts as almost a bootleg soul. it's "i don't smell a soul anywhere on you, why do you care?" - "i made a promise to a lady." it's buffy kissing spike for the first time because of his heroism in "intervention," and her letting him back in the house in "the gift" because of that same heroism and the trust they've built, it's going back to that same line in becoming part ii. "the truth is, i like this world." like the truth is he likes this world and he's not supposed to and buffy is sworn to protect the world and it's just!!! it's a little symphony is what it is.

and it's also!! spike understanding the monstrousness of buffy! this is the bit most people focus on with them, and why they have the reputation they do, but i truly think s6 spuffy is generally just so??? beautiful??? it's spike's"clawed her way out of a coffin that's how. i've done it myself" and it's buffy's "i can be alone with you here" and it's buffy who's died and experienced this insane trauma and the person who can understand it with her and make her feel okay is someone who's died too. it's "you have to go on living, so one of us is living," and just!!! the poetry of a dead man being the one to help you learn to live again.

it's the way that genuinely i read s6 spuffy as making buffy genuinely happy in those moments when her own shame isn't guiding her. it's the ecstasy of "smashed" and the fear of "wrecked" and "if you tell Anyone about last night, i will kill you" and the fact that in "gone" when no one can see buffy having sex with spike, she's giddy about it, she's delighted, she's nibbling his ear in front of xander and having fun doing it, it's her in "older and far away" and "as you were" clearly wanting spike but not wanting it to be in or near her house, where people could see, it's "dead things" and the way she's genuinely happy with him in his crypt and laughing and it's "hells bells" him making her laugh at the wedding and it's the fact that in "normal again" we get this dual glimpse of buffy just wanting to talk to spike about what happened at the wedding / flinching away when her friends so much as see her talking to him in a friendly way / him revealing that when they were together he'd put ice on the back of her neck and giving a peak to this quiet domesticity that existed alongside the torrid affair. it's how in "entropy" all he wants is for her to tell her friends about them. i know i said this above but it's literally tara, a lesbian, asking buffy if she's ready to "come out" about spike and buffy saying no, she's "all stay-inny."

it's the way s6 spuffy is SO easily read as being closeted in a queer relationship. the way that buffy feels free and happy and hot getting to have rough, inhibition-free sex with spike but feels shame whenever it's mentioned in words — "that may be how you get off but it's not my style" "no, it's your calling" / "you were like an animal" "i'm not an animal." like, the more i rewatch the show the more i feel like the fundamental quote-unquote-toxicity of s6 spuffy isn't the relationship itself, it's the resounding shame about the relationship (how many times can i say "shame" in one essay on tumblr dot com about vampires n queerness lmao). the fact that in relationships that are either normative (biley) or trying hard to be normative (bangel), the interplay of sex and violence for slayers is allowed and buffy can revel in it but in relationships that are queer either textually (fuffy) or subtextually (spuffy), suddenly buffy has to be ashamed of that, because what does that say about her?

and it all goes back to becoming ii! it's "mom, i'm a vampire slayer" and "well have you tried not being a vampire slayer?" and she literally HAS, she's tried everything she CAN and will continue to! throughout the series! it's the way that dual trauma—being kicked out of the house for being gay a slayer and having to kill angel after losing him because of her forbidden desire for this monster??? tell her that she's Wrong, that she has to be Normal, that she has to Deny what she wants and the way she is and wants is Wrong.

it's the way that spike is buffy's shadow, the way that in season 6 she goes to him because she wants to feel good, she wants to feel, period, and her expressing affection and desire for this monster who mirrors her is also her expressing affection and desire for the things she feels shame for about herself. it's the way buffy doing violence against spike is textually her doing violence against herself (see: faith beating up her own body in "who are you?" → buffy beating up spike in "dead things).

i also dont want to give the narrative too much credit here because one of the reasons buffy is so compelling as a show is the places where it fails and comes short. it's such a rich text to talk about queerness and shame and desire and womanhood precisely because the show itself is full of hangups about those very things. obviously this is a segue into "seeing red" which i'm Not going to go into in depth here, i dont really feel like talking about it because frankly i dont need to go on a long tangent about sexual violence right now :) but suffice it to say the fact that the writers room was like "okay we need the audience to Hate Spike because they Like Him Too Much" and their immediate thought was "right let's write in a horrific scene of sexual violence that will traumatize our actors and our audience and also shows that we too believe what buffy believes, that she is wrong for wanting this monster, that she should be punished for having outsized desires and not being more careful and now her and the audience will Learn Their Lesson." anyway moving on.

but anyway that brings us to the way spuffy is a comedy, structurally speaking. like i think people often read spuffy as this exclusively dark and twisted story because they a) only associate spuffy with season 6 and b) misread season 6 as being only about dark fucked up sex rather than like, that Desire Can Be Good Actually, Even and Especially When It's Not the Desire You're ~Supposed~ To Have.

but then we get season 7 spuffy???????? season 7 spuffy where they are slowly rebuilding their trust, where spike, who represents the parts of buffy she feels shame about, has sought out his soul, and it gets to be this tangible proof that the things she thought were awful about herself all along were actually always good, always had an innate capacity for goodness!!! and sought out a soul to prove it! the way buffy is so obsessed with spike getting his soul and tells everyone all of the time (see this chef's kiss set from @slayerbuffy ) in part because it's like!! see!!! i'm NOT wrong inside, the vampire im obsessed with had the inherent capacity for goodness all along!!!!! the way spike's ensoulment makes me INSANE because it's AGAIN in the thread of becoming part ii — spike is a vampire and shouldn't be ABLE to want to save the world he shouldn't be ABLE to want a soul or think of it as desirable but he DOES.

it's the way that buffy's relationship trauma has, since angel, been about saying feelings out loud, acknowledging feelings and desires in public, but in season 7 she is fully accepting of her desires verbally. "i'm the one who dates dead guys. and no offense, but they were hotties" and "kind of sallow but in a hot way?" and her and spike getting clocked with their sexual tension by the potentials and andrew and the other scoobies. it's!!! fucking!!!!!!! everywhere!!! it's that buffy hasn't said i love you to any love interests since angel (unless you count the time on ats she told angel she loves riley but i could write a whole separate essay on how THAT is just insane in so many narrative ways) and then?????? in her second to last scene in the series??? she tells spike she loves him???????????? it's spike's speech in "touched" bringing it all home:

I UNDERSTAND EXACTLY WHAT YOU ARE. I LOVE WHAT YOU ARE. WHAT YOU DO. HOW YOU TRY. (excuse me while i WEEP).

it's the way she spends what she thinks are her last three nights on earth with him, cuddling in bed. it's the way her last lines of the series are all his name, and telling him she loves him, and their love which once wasn't even allowed to be mentioned out loud, to be even thought of with anything but revulsion, now burns so bright it makes them burst into flames

it's the way spike is so beautiful in the story as buffy's shadow because it means something that spike loves with his whole heart, that he loves every bit of buffy, that he has understood buffy from the beginning, even when they were enemies (see everything i went insane about above about s2) even when they were unlikely allies (see everything i went insane about above about fool for love). and understands her as a friend !!! (see early s6!!!! spike as buffy's confidante!!!). the way he understands her as a lover!!!!!!! (see the speech in touched!!!!). the way buffy hates herself but spike will always love her and he loves her for the fullness of herself and through loving him and through him loving her she can learn to love herself and accept herself fully, no one kicking her out of the house because she's queer a slayer, no one telling her she should want a normal relationship, just this strange gendery queer vampire who loves her forever for the fullness of her, her kindness and her strength, what she is, what she does, how she tries. the best and the worst of her. the way spuffy is about the ultimate affirmation of the self and specifically the queer self. the way spuffy is about finding each other. the way spuffy is about queer futurity, is about "you have to go on living," is about if you keep going and keep trying you can live your full unabashed queer life and spuffy finds that together, this freaky slayer and this freaky vampire, meeting in the middle, and making something new.

it's the way spuffy is this narrative impossibility that wasn't supposed to happen, the way spike was supposed to be this half-season arc villain. the way so much of spike in-universe shouldn't be able to happen, but it does. the way buffy breaks the laws of slayerhood, dying and coming back, loving vampires, changing the entire slayer line. the way queerness is very much on a level about this thing that isn't "supposed" to exist, but it does. and it's beautiful.

and that's what spuffy is to me.

[chaosciara]

how to comment on fics

okay hi everyone! so i asked if anyone wanted a guide on fic commenting and a few people gave the idea a big thumbs up (thank you to them!) so here i am about to deep delve into fic commenting.

if you would like a more detailed fic commenting guide with a ton of helpful tips and access points please check out this post by @thebiballerina

some disclaimers before we start (because this is the internet):

1. this is not a scientific articles, extensive research based post. this is me, an avid fic reader and consistent commenter explaining my how, what, and why of commenting.

2. i will try to make this as detailed and simple as possible however i am always open to questions, additions, and revisions.

3. the basis is just enjoy fic, it's there for you to love!

breakdown:

A. why/when i leave comments

B. how/what i comment

C. general things

A. why/when i leave comments

okay so commenting is not a necessity. it should never be a task that you dread or something you feel you must do if, and when, you reach the end of a fic. that being said, commenting does become easier the more you do it.

now i leave comments on almost every single fic i read. for two reasons:

1. i have gotten very very good at using filters and tags. ao3 is amazing with this; they really give you the full range of options to cater to your wants. so when i use their filters i'm only getting things i'm in the mood to read, which already makes the experience that much more enjoyable and that much less stressful.

2. if im not vibing with a fic i generally stop reading before i get to the end. i have learnt how to stop. not to sound like marie kondo, but if it didn't bring me joy i don't keep it. as you read fic you will pick up on what is a no-go, what is a maybe, and what is a hell yes, for you. which makes it easier to tap out or keep going.

keeping these two things in mind, when i do read a fic it is genuinely and generally because i enjoyed it. which means when i do decide to comment it's with complete excitement for the fic.

and the reason i comment: i want to let the author know that i enjoyed their fic, and what elements i loved specifically. simple as that: i want to let the author know they made me happy.

commenting is a more intimate and highly appreciated way to let an author know their work was read and loved. additionally, and i think this is even more important, it gives the writer an opportunity to interact with you as a reader. which in my opinion, is the true and wanted end result for most fic writers. because fic is often written for the author (self-indulgently) or to explore topics/ headcanons/ scenarios/ etc. but it is shared for the sole purpose of the reader. writers want your interaction. they love your thoughts and opinions and i know some, myself included, have literally gotten ideas for fic directions and other potential plots, from comments.

so if you feel you're bothering the author by commenting, please know (and i say this on behalf of every single fic writer) we love your comments and you will never bother us with your thoughts.

mini TL:DR-- i leave comments because i only read things i enjoy and am therefore excited to leave comments.// comments are much loved by authors because it lets them know just how much their work is appreciated and gives them an opportunity to interact with you.

B. how/what i comment

okay now to get into the nitty gritty of actually commenting. the first question was important because it's the basis for any comment.

so, please ask yourself when you set out to write a comment: did i enjoy this fic?

that question is gonna start a flow chart that looks something like this (the examples i use are from comments i have left on various fics. they will all be linked below under the "keep reading")

did i enjoy the fic?

no >> leave fic

yes (comment suggestion: i really enjoyed/liked/loved this) [eg. Fuck this was perfect]

if yes: why did i enjoy this fic?

no particular reason (comment suggestion, in addition to the one above, or as a stand alone: thank you for writing this)

if there is a particular reason: what did i enjoy about this fic?

i liked these lines (quote lines) [e.g. *cabled, slate blue skullcap softer than a summer breeze,* Okay this feels like one of those things where it SHOULDN'T make sense but it DOES because that is the true beauty and power of amazing writers!!! basically you're the coolest ever and I can understand this so well]

i liked that plot point/scene (briefly explain it/ quote the lines) [e.g. Oh Gods okay they were so so cute and then I read "husband" and I just PASSED away like what the fuck that's the fucking cutest thing ughhhhhhh thank you for this]

i liked your writing style [e.g. holy fuck this was haunting and poetic thank you!!!!!]

i liked your use of (insert writing device; i.e. poetry, descriptions, humour) [e.g. I'm obsessed with this with your writing style with the way they interact with the poetry sprinkled in you dear are killing the game]

i liked the way you wrote the characters [e.g. Also Sukunas pet names🥺🥺🥺🥺and yuuji being so so gentle with megumi🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺stopppp im gonna scream// love the dynamic of these four. But I love the way YOU write them specifically]

i liked your regard/disregard of canon [e.g. Your characterizations are immaculate. And I appreciate that although you bring in elements of canon (for the characters) you still keep them far enough away that they feel completely yours.]

i like the way you write angst/fluff/smut [e.g. Oh my gods I adored this thank you it was so gentle and soft and sweet and ughhhhhhhhhhh my babies// Holy hell this is so sad?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! But Ughh I love it]

i like the pairings you came up with [e.g. It's them >>>>>>>>>> everything else for me]

other things to consider in a comment:

what you were doing/where you were at the time you read the fic (t's amusing and a gateway conversation opener for you, the author, and anyone else who might read the comment) [e.g. okay before I start let me set the scene (because you're used to my over excessive sharing nonsense by now): it's like 9:20 pm, I'm in bed and I've just put on my "Greek deities? no baby we're Greek tragedies" playlist.]

if you are listening to music: what song/playlist you're listening to [e.g. right now "anti-romantic" by TOGETHERXTOGETHER is playing (adore this song)// (also in the time I read that the song moved to "Genghis Khan" by Miike Snow which, side note: I think is defs something Percy would listen to and possibly also Jason, maybe even he introduces Pers to it)// Now to the next scene (song is "Slow Down" by Chase Atlantic)]

what time you're reading (it's hilarious to realise how many readers are doing a late night fic read) [e.g. Okay friend I just— it's 10:05 pm I'm in bed (I have to be up early tomorrow) and I usually read some fanfiction before I sleep]

emojis are always a good way to express your love without using words. hearts (<3 or emoji hearts); pleading/soft face; shocked faces; angry faces [e.g. This was so sad🥺]

exclamation points and question marks are easy and convey a lot [e.g. 😭Why???????]

key smashes are also well received. (the idea that the fic made you incoherent is diamond-appealing and very satisfying) [e.g. cdaaqrgbkoiutrewtikmbcsaqg YOU CAN'T JUST WRITE POETRY AND THEN EXPECT ME TO BE OKAY??????gods this was amazing// Shkoyeaxbnlotewaaasfcbmlograshh yess]

stating your emotion(s)/actions as you read the fic [e.g. "or how he never pushes him away, never far enough." never *sobs* far *sobs* enough *sobs* why are they sooo perfect????// And this fic, this specific chapter, actually made me cry. Tears pouring down my cheeks, sniffling into my pillow kind of crying.]

explaining what you think may happen or what you hope doesn't (work's best with multi-chapters but if you're like me and like to write comments as you're reading it also works then) [e.g. Oh gods I hope this fic doesn't rip my heart out because I adore these two so much!??!!!]

C. general things

1. You don't need to have extremely long comments, but also don't be afraid to blabber on into mini essays. some of my comments are legit two words and some of them are like five hundred words. there is no such thing as a too short comment or a too long comment.

2. don't be discouraged if the author didn't reply to your comment. some writers do and some don't. that doesn't mean they don't appreciate it. trust me they probably did a little dance in their room with happiness when they read what you had to say

3. your comments could never get boring. if you comment "im in love with this" every single chapter of a 30 chap fic it is still appreciated. you took the time to say something and the writer is probably extremely happy and excited that they consistently gave you the happy chemicals with something they wrote

4. if you're really stuck for commenting a simple "thank you for this" always goes a long way

5. don't comment if it feels forced. comment on what you enjoy. if you see commenting as a chore you're going to make yourself miserable and make reading fic a task rather than an escape or a dose of serotonin (or whatever reason you may enjoy fic for)

6. if you're a re-reader it's always a wonderful thing for an author to hear "I've read this before but I love it so much I'm back". it's like: wow you like this enough to always read it?? I heart you. It's like getting an extra squeeze in a hug.

7. the main rule is: be kind, have fun, say good thoughts out loud, and if you can make someone smile do it.

thank you for reading and i wish you all the happiest bubbles during your fic reads <3

fics i used in examples:

(all links go to ao3)

Here in Our Bed Until the Morning Comes. by pythia (melancholic_piegon) @stillneedsmorekissing

our year by halpsur

warm leatherette by LowerEastSide

focus by ceinno

make a mess of me by auravere

our good boy by ohmytheon

tree by jeanjacketlesbian

hokkaido by rooted

my hot blood's been burning for so many summers by brightlyburning

this thing between us by chiuwurita

the space between by ohmytheon

night encounters by akamurasaki (cxlmberry)

why did you leave? by firerose17

knb kinktober 2020 by rhapsie

you promised by firerose17

we should have each other with cream by pythia (melancholic_pigeon)

[spacecatchako]

i don't want to be alone anymore (sfw)

you and daichi have been best friends since your first year of high school. now that you're in love (and adults) where will you go from here?

pairing: sawamura daichi x reader

wc: 3,373 words

contains: seemingly unrequited love, confessions, covers the nationals arc, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort towards the end, fluff, reader literally has a breakdown and daichi comforts them, reassurance, cuddles, petnames (baby, princess, doll)

a/n: no, i didn't have any idea how to tag this. this fic is a little all over the place and there are several timeskips. the reader is implied to have issues w family and friends so keep that in mind lol. also i marked diff sections of the fic with ✨ this emoji so if u want to skip over certain parts and go straight to the hurt/comfort feel free babey

you were used to being lonely. sure, you worked hard and you had dreams, but there was some part you that remained unfulfilled. it was like a void that gradually dragged you down. you'd managed to supress it for most of your life up until high school, until all of a sudden something changed.

you met sawamura daichi. he was cute, a first year player on the volleyball team. daichi was kind to you. the two of you became fast friends after meeting on the first day at karasuno. during your breaks in between classes the pair of you would talk about anything and everything- volleyball strategies, your latest sketches, even other classmates that were giving you a hard time. you could be silly with daichi. there was no pressure with him, no need to pretend to be perfect.

but there was something scary about this too. by your second year of school you'd been friends with daichi for about a year. it was then that the realization hit- you had never felt this safe, this accepted, or... this loved by another person. when you'd get anxious because of classes or have issues with your family daichi became a shoulder for you to lean on. he'd go out of his way to send you check up texts and leave you little handwritten notes. the first one that you received was a little post-it note that said "you'll do great on your test today! i believe in you- daichi." he'd blushed like crazy when you confronted him about it. it was new to see your usually sturdy and level-headed best friend blush over a silly note that he'd left. there was something different between the two of you after that first note. instead of walking you home like usual he started to keep a hand on the small of your back.

you hadn't been looking. you'd been talking about how awkward your family was when a stray cat slunked into front of the two of you. you almost walked straight into it before the cat bounded away, crossing the empty street and looking back once to meow at daichi and you.

"sorry, is that too much? i just... want to make sure that you don't trip."

you were confused until you realized what had happened. daichi had steadied you by putting his hand on the small of your back. it felt good, for some reason, to trust him to steady you. trust wasn't an easy thing to come by.

you smiled a tad awkwardly before steadying yourself on your own two feet. "not at all daichi. i don't mind."

daichi smiled and the pair of you kept walking. his hand had stayed where it had been. you felt... guilty for being so touch-starved. and for your best friend, of all people?

"how ridiculous" you thought to yourself. when you came home you knew that no one was there. time to start dinner before your family came home. you'd probably retreat to your room and text daichi when that happened.

daichi was so good and so nice, and by your third year of high school the tiny, lingering bit of attraction that you had had for him flourished into a full-blown crush. you felt embarrassed and guilty. never had you let someone get this close to you. never had you ever let anyone write you notes, check in on you, give you genuine-sounding compliments. it was the little things like "are you okay y/n? you seemed a little quiet this morning. are you getting enough sleep?"

graduation came and went. the notion of parting with daichi and your other friends- asahi, suga, and kiyoko- left a pang of grief in your stomach. you were attending a local university and daichi planned to join miyagi's fire department after nationals. you'd still be close to him and he'd still be living at home, but it was weird to think that you'd be seeing one another a lot less.

nationals was when everything boiled over. you'd promised daichi that you'd be in the stands at every game of the competition, cheering him on.

"id love it if you were there, don't get me wrong. but don't feel like you have to jump through hoops for me! it's a bit of a long trip, i don't want you tiring yourself out." he confesses sheepishly. but you really wanted to go- his mom and siblings couldn't because of school and work, but they'd given him their best wishes.

"I'll hitch a ride with saeko and the crew. she and i work at the same restaurant on the weekends. we already talked and she said she'd be more than happy." you chirp. daichi seems a bit less worried about you after this, but then he remembers.

"um. y/n. you know that saeko drives... well, not badly, just... scarily?" he only seems to be partially joking.

you laugh at his worried expression. "I'll be okay pal. we'll make one of saeko's taiko buddies take the wheel."

daichi mock sighs in relief and you laugh together. this was the last moment that daichi had before nationals where he wasn't laden with anticipation over whether karasuno would succeed or not. he felt relaxed, with you. he thought you were cute, and awkward sometimes, and smart, and... good. so good. you didn't always look to him like he was an authority figure and you were small. he didn't feel the pressure to make sure you behaved or kept you in line because you were good at putting up a front and keeping yourself "in order." sometimes daichi wished that you would let him take care of you, let him listen more often. he wished that you would let him love you.

oh.

oh shit.

"daichi? um, daichi?"

daichi blushed and was snapped back to reality. he... loved you? that's what that care for you was all of these years. that's why he wanted to know if you were taking care of yourself, if you weren't burning yourself out with pleasing your family and school and work. sure, he thought you were cute. he picked up on all of your idiosyncrasies, even sometime pointing them out to you. he had had an inkling that *maybe* he had a little crush on you... but the care that he had come to find that he had for you was so great. he had to do something- everyone was leaving for school and the championships would be over and then when would he see you again? there was this great, big fear of losing you due to confessing. but that fear was minuscule compared to you, his studious and independent friend, pushing him away and forgetting.

"sorry. i was just lost in thought."

✨

yes, you, saeko, and the taiko group arrived a *tad* late and missed the tokonami match. yes you felt guilty for missing it. but when karasuno won against inarizaki and you saw daichi and the team celebrate the win, it was all worth it. you cheered as loud as you can, and once the players cleared from the court, you scrambled to greet daichi.

you see him in the lobby and almost leap into his arms. he laughs. "aaa, hey y/n." he croaks.

you giggle. "hey daichi. congratulations. you were amazing out there."

he's smiling through the sweat and fatigue. you notice, out of the corner of your eye, asahi and suga slowly backing away to leave the two of you alone. suga clicks his tongue, making daichi whip his head around, and he gives the captain a thumbs up." daichi sighs and sets you down, and the two of you are left in the stadium lobby. volleyball players and spectators mingle around, getting food and shopping for merchandise. daichi runs a hand through his hair and turns to you.

"do you want to go outside? there's something that i have to tell you."

anxiety shoots through you. if it's daichi, it can't be bad. of course not. that's one of your best friends. right?

the two of you make your way to the front doors of the stadium and get some fresh air. the sky is blue and the wind is refreshing against your skin. daichi, still sweaty and tired from his game, seems to enjoy it too.

you giggle as he stretches. daichi sits on a nearby bench and gestures for you to do so too. you notice a little shake in his hands as he does so. he's fiddling with the zipper of his karasuno jacket in that cute way that you know he does.

there's a sense of unease, and it's up to you to break the silence. you're alone with sawamura daichi, your best friend and longtime crush.

"daichi? what's wrong?" you ask, concerned.

daichi looks to you, a flush on his cheeks and a light in his eyes. he looks so cute, even when he's tongue-tied and tired from a game.

he takes a deep breath, and the words come out.

"i like you a lot, y/n"

you blink, confused. then it hits you. your crush, sawamura daichi, likes you. like, the boy that you think about way too much, the boy that you feel safe with, the absolute gentleman who cares about you and respects you instead of walking all over you, likes you.

you realize that you haven't said anything before you stutter.

"i-i like you too, daichi. so much."

he's blushing. your face is growing hot despite the winter air. the two of you, literal adults, are reduced to awkward messes because of this confession.

"o-oh. that's... good. i think that that's good." daichi awkwardly says. he laughs a little, then it turns into a full-blown bellow. you can't help but laugh too at how ludicrous the situation is. two friends who have known each other for years, caring about each other, eventually falling for each other. who knew?

"also suga made a bet and told me to confess to you if we won against inarizaki. he told me after the tokonami match. i agreed." daichi huffs after the laughter subsides.

"of course he did. im glad that he did it though." you joke.

"yeah. because then i wouldn't have you." he smiles, getting up. he extends a hand to you, helping you from the bench

"let's go back to the group. i don't want to miss lunch."

✨

it's been months after nationals. you and daichi are in a relationship, happy to be with one another. he's taken you on so many wonderful dates and his family seems to love getting to know you more. but there's still something that's missing. you've always struggled to open up to people completely. even daichi doesn't know what you're like when you completely break.

that changes one day when you have to travel from your dorm, to your parents house, then to daichi's for a date. it was supposed to be casual- just you and him in your pajamas, watching movies and eating takeout. but after being berated by your family for your career choice it triggered something in you. you felt like a little kid again, being told that you're not enough, being slowly manipulated by your family into burning yourself out. dachi helped the loneliness subside, but you knew that, inside, you were still the same little kid. that thought made something inside you recoil, but you pushed it down and made your way to daichi's.

you settle into his bed, your partner beside you. you take a good look at him- your man, sturdy and stronger from work at the fire department. suddenly, you can't help but break for some reason. tears flood your eyes and they won't stop for some reason.

"baby? baby what's wrong?"

you didn't deserve him. why were you even friends with him? someone this nice, this gentle with you, this kind? you wanted him to kick you out for crying. you wanted him to break up with you, because good things don't last.

you were so embarrassed and you'd felt so weak and stupid. you'd never been allowed to cry before, you'd always been told that it was a sign of weakness. good children didn't cry, so now that you were grown up you shouldn't either.

daichi hadn't judged you. he just set the tv remote down and moved in to hug you. other people's touches usually made you flinch and swat them away, but it was never like that with him. not when he supported the small of your back when you fell, not when you jumped into his arms, not when he took your hand after your mutual confession.

the two of you were hugging now, your chin on his shoulder and his head tucked into your side. you could stay like this forever. he was so warm. you could feel the two of your heartbeats almost sinking into one as your sobs quieted down and your breathing slowed to normal. this was the effect that he had on you. it was in this moment that you realized that you loved him- you truly did. the brown-eyed, sturdy, kind, careful, gentle boy that you'd met on the first day of high school had become your friend. then he was your crush. now that you two were adults, he was your first partner. the first person that you had ever fallen truly, deeply in love with.

you felt weak for desiring a love that was this tender. pessimistic you has you thinking that maybe all of the bad things that happened when you were growing up- your family being distant, friends leaving, you feeling alone all of the time- were a sign. a sign that you didn't deserve love. but if you were undeserving, if the pessimistic side of you was right, maybe you could have this moment to keep instead. is that it? if a whirlwind kind of love was too much to ask, you could just keep these moments with daichi close to your heart. if it was possible to take this feeling and keep it in a bottle, you would.

in between sobs, you vent.

"everything sucks, daichi. my family has always been so critical of me. i never get to see any of our friends anymore. im trying to succeed at school but my family won't get off my back. i feel so alone."

daichi pulls away to look at you. his palm is cupping your face and uses his thumb to wipe a tear away. you sniffle. you struggle to meet his beautiful brown eyes, averting your gaze. but you can feel his gaze on you, and when you do finally find the courage to make eye contact, he looks at you with nothing but affection. for some reason you don't feel judged by him. you don't feel... bad for crying in front of him anymore. he's looking at you with nothing but acceptance, nothing but care.

"hey." he starts in a small, gentle voice. "i know how you feel about crying, doll. but it's okay to cry. no matter what your parents say about you, you're a good person. a lovely person, even. you're a good friend too. what they think is stupid." he smiles a little. you love that smile- the way that his eyes crinkle a little and his cheeks dimple. he holds one of your hands in both of his. "i love you. you're good, and smart, and kind, and hardworking. you forget to take care of yourself sometimes, but i think that that's okay. while you're learning how to show yourself more compassion I'll take care of you in the meantime. whatever you need, doll. you're safe with me. no matter what. okay?"

you're crying again. great. you don't stop yourself this time and you throw yourself into his arms. he's there, waiting for you. you let yourself sob into his chest while he gently rubs your back. he holds you in his big, strong arms and hugs you closer. you don't feel suffocated and you don't feel humiliating to be crying. you feel safe. it sucks to cry over what your family thinks of you and it sucks that you don't feel like enough. it sucks that you've felt alone for most of your life. it sucks that you feel guilty for wanting love and it sucks that sometimes, you feel guilty for loving daichi so much. but as he holds you and presses a kiss to the top of your head, nuzzling your hair, all of the pain is tinged with something warm. something safe. something so, so safe. a feeling that you'd never felt before.

it's in that moment that you know- daichi isn't a whirlwind. he isn't a storybook prince that will whisk all of your problems away. no, he's somehow better. he's a pillar of support, a source of comfort, a prince in his own right. no, he won't save you- you still have to take care of yourself. but he'll support you, fill in the gaps, love you unconditionally. maybe a fix-it-all is too much to ask, but you couldn't care less about that now. all that you want his daichi. he takes care of you. he respects you. he loves you, despite your flaws and your feelings of weakness and those moments like now when you just need to be held. he loves you.

when you've stopped crying your voice is croaky and you feel gross. you look up at daichi and he hands you a box of tissues from the nightstand. you're an ugly crier, you know that. but daichi doesn't seem to judge as you dab at your eyes and look to check your reflection in his room mirror. it feels wrong to leave the comfort of his arms, but it also feels like instinct to check your composure. when you're done you turn around to face him, eyes tired.

"do you want to talk about it doll?" you're about to object, in a prefunctory sort of way, but he cuts in. "baby, i don't mind. really. i just want to know that you're okay. i just want to know that you feel safe. you've endured a lot and the way that you feel matters."

you sniffle. "im fine not talking for now daichi. im... tired. just tired. from crying. i just want to sleep." when he shows you nothing but understanding, you stutter out one last request

"ww-will you hold me?"

"of course, princess. ive got you."

you clamber back to bed. daichi and you shift positions so that he's laying down and you're against his chest. he smells like that nice, crisp soap that he always uses. you bury your face in his chest once more, before laying on your side to the sound of his heartbeat.

you sigh. "i love this sound. it lets me know that you're here with me. it let's me know that you're real."

daichi chuckles warmly. you can hear the sound reverberate throughout his chest and it tickles your ear. he's so sweet. it's then that he promises something to you.

"im here, darling. and i am not going anywhere."

your eyes water a little at that. "i love you, daichi. you're my best friend."

he sighs, and it's like you can feel his warm, gentle smile from where you're resting. "i love you too, doll. so much. you are the most precious thing in the world to me."

you know in that moment that you are loved- genuinely, indellibly loved. the roughness and loneliness that you once endured is no more. despite everything, you're learning how to love yourself and to take care of yourself. it feels so, so lonely sometimes and the work seems endless. but whenever you need someone to catch you when you fall, you know that your love, daichi, will be there. forevermore.

his heartbeat relaxes you as you snuggle deeper into his chest. the last words that the two of you utter to one another are ones of love before you both drift off to sleep. you love him- so, so much. and he loves you.

tagging some folks in the longest fic that ive ever written because aaaaaa. if u want to be added to my taglist or taken off plz send me an ask!

@ceo-of-daichi @honeybunny-sawamura @daichis-kitty @goldenshoyo @daichidaichidaichi @kingtamakimurder

[sweet-rintarou]

"Did you even shower?" Oikawa asked you once you sat in the passenger seat. Noticing the sweater, sweatpants and untidy hair, it was an obvious sign that you did not do what he was asking.

"No, because some bitch was whining," you snapped, glaring at him, causing him to cringe back and place an arm over his nose. "I don't stink, okay? I'm not you."

"Hey, I smell incredible, if you should know," he says matter-of-factly, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, you doing anything after the shoot?"

Remembering your conversation with Ushijima last night, your sour mood was immediately shifted and you beamed up at Oikawa, only earning a surprised, and borderline disgusted look from him. "Yes, I'm going on a date with Toshi."

"God, it's fucking weird hearing you call him that," he cringed, his upper lip curled up. "Are you sure that's okay? We're still under contract, you know?"

"I know, but he said he'll take me to a town next to here, so I'm trusting him," you inform. "I've committed to this stupid contract for more than three months, I'm honestly sick of going on dates with only you."

"Y/N..." he frowned, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road. "I'm hurt."

"Good, because you are a terrible conversationalist."

"How?"

"I never know what you're talking about 99% of the time." He looks towards you quickly, brows furrowed and an obvious angry pout on his lips. "I only respond the designated responses any bored person would say, accommodated with reactions."

He thought over your words, reflecting them to your actions when you were to go on dates. Realization struck him, causing him to reach out and hit the top of your head.

You returned it by pinching his arm.

Your heart was racing against your chest. It's been three months since you had met up with Ushijima because of the chaos of your debut preparation, photoshoots on photoshoots, and recordings. Your interactions with Ushijima were limited to phone calls and text messages. You hadn't seen him in person since that time in the restaurant with Oikawa.

To say the least, you were scared that he'd think you've changed. You never got to tell him that during the three months you were placed on a strict diet and had changes to your appearance, including your hair and how you dressed—however, for tonight, you were dressed in a casual tee and jeans, accompanied by a jacket you stole from Yūji. Your hair though... The company had you try different colors for the concept pictures of your debut, which was different—drastically—from the hair you sported when you met Toshi.

The ding of the elevator reaching the lobby floor caused your heart to jump to your throat and it felt like an eternity before the doors finally opened.

You stepped out, looking to both sides to find Ushijima standing in front of a different elevator, face scrunched up in confusion as to why it wasn't opening.

"Toshi," you called, causing the 6-foot man to turn to where you were, eyes widening upon seeing your new appearance. The silence between you two was suffocating, but was relieved when his eyes shifted to yours, squinted into crescent as his signature smile appears.

"Y/N...You look beautiful."

silver lining | w. ushijima smau

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part thirty-eight

—since last

author's note: IT'S BEEN SO SO LONG AND IM SO SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING I GENUINELY AM😭😭 i have a full apology post here, but long story short, college was hectic as fuck and im finally done with my semester, i had gone thru 183738 breakdowns and went thru a rut cuz idk what i wanted to do, but im feeling better (slowly) and also, i need to end this au fast cuz if it aint me then no one's gonna do it😔 kinda wish aus could finish themselves, they're so not independent 🙄 imma make sure ive queued up every chapter to avoid falling off the face of the earth again 😢

taglist (CLOSED) : @alienvarmint @loubells @naughtylittleweeb @tycrackculture @someone-you-dontknow @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney @stargirlara @brownsugartease-blog @leviathans-watching @kenjiru @ushiwakaismybae @elianetsantana @kagebunshiin @dainslove @marajillana @wannakeillmyself @bokuto-buns @pinq-bug @ihateccmber @changkyun-not @mischevious-pixie @mochi-the-uwu @haengbokpixie @kiritokunuwu @kittyddandnyla @runningwitches @cevanswhre @mint-mai @morpheus-rex @franko-pop @bigchaosenergy @luhvsnoir @shadowpurr @fueledbyapplepi @bellesowl @nonbinaryh0e @somis0 @farmertoshi @a-moon-fairy @cat-kinda-moon @halesandy @putmeinyourdeathnote @kookie-doughs @nikanikabitch @fuckjeffreybezos @icedberrytea @dearfushiguro @sevenlol @darlingkuroo (send an ask if you want to be added) if your name is crossed, i cant tag you

[moongray]

Nekoma Boys as your Bestie

Characters: Kuroo, Kenma, Yaku, Lev, Fukunaga

Tags: fluff, fluff, and more fluff, bestie stuff ahead

A/N: this was actually from my twt but very well since it didn’t blew up let me just dump it here

Kuroo Tetsurō

do I even need to say this.. your walk home buddy since god invented you both as neighbors

makes you pay for his snack at the canteen but stuffed his bag with snacks too on your gloomy days

teases you on his seat everytime you stand in front of the class

has that grinny face all the time but still tutors you perfectly

actually remember almost all of your habits and yk those type of friend who will say things like “I know you’d hate it” or “I know you’d say no to it” and it’s totally true

(for smol y/n) you are his armrest.

when you cry in front of him if it’s not a huge matter he’ll scoff at you first and this is absolute. but if it’s a huge matter, he’ll keep quiet and give you some back rubs while you cry

conclusion: he’s the worst and the best.

Kenma Kozume

you guys literally communicate in a different frequency (in a good way)

casually handed you the game controller when you look drained

I have a feeling he’d analyze movies with you, he might not initiate it but he just slides his argument in when you comment about something from the movie

always keep you grounded with his logic way of thinking, it’s gonna be those solutions that makes you go “but..” but it’s the truest and best analysis you can’t argue

solves all your pc and gadget probs (with no words exchange, his hands would just this and that and tada your problem is solved)

you buy him snacks sometimes cause most of the time he’s too immersed in his games

you chatted him on your midnight breakdowns and he’s always there, you know he wakes up at 1 or 2am to play when there isn’t any volley match ahead

his chat isn’t that warm or like full of love but as I said he’s very logical but you know when you get logical arguments and explanations they sound more make sense than just emotional comfort which then make you feel even better and rest assured? yeah that’s whats gonna happen

if you need emotional comfort just hit lev

Morisuke Yaku

scolds. you. when. you're. slacking. off.

BUT bet he’s PROUD OF YOU when you achieve something (and when you show him your achievement)

will ask you in a calm tone "what is it?" when you hide your probs from him

I mean it’s just a radar built up inside him since you’ve been besties for long so he knows even if you’re smiling in front of him

you cheer him up when he feels disappointed with himself, Yaku always puts his best when there’s a goal he sets, you can see it when he injured his ankle and feel so upset with it, so as his bestie you’ll do the deed of cheering him up. I’m actually coercing you for this idc

though it’s not very explicit, he always look out for you, he treasures you

I actually see him as a person who doesn’t just bestfriended anyone and that he’s a pretty tough shell to know him deeper so yeah he values you and therefore he cares for you

but still he’ll mock you at some occasions, no hard feelings, just jokes

Lev Haiba

either ask you to teach him what he doesn't understand or beg for you to just give him your book bc holy shit time is running the class is about to start

always say 'sure!' everytime you ask him to go somewhere urgently

never purposely tease your height not like the damn captain

pays for your snacks when he also buys something, that type of friend who’ll smile at you and like “oh let me pay for yours as well”

he shoos off bad people who wanna harm you lmao he looks intimidating

and because of it you sometimes ask if he can walk you to certain point near your house if you ever finish school kinda late, he later picks your intention of asking him and start to just walk you home without you asking him anymore

you guys talk trending topics on twitter in the morning before the class start and on breaks and don’t ask me why I just kinda get this vibe

Shōhei Fukunaga

INSIDE JOKES WITH YOU.

the jokes would be too deep rooted inside you both that you can just stare at him and you both grin at the same time, same second.

"heh?" when you tell him a story he just basically not interested

working homeworks together with you silently.

cooks you stuff silently

okay but he’d doubtlessly cooks you stuff or bring some cook for you when you skip school bc you have to rest at home

state his opinion bluntly and with a flat tone (and face expression damn this boy how could you both even befriend each other im kidding), "that's bad tho" "I don’t think so" but it helps you see things clearer most of the time

you often ask him to hangout or just to walk a bit bc he’s not loud and his presence kinda calm you and make you feel secured (he’s intimidating in his own way)

he’s a dependable type of best friend imo like you can count on him on serious stuff like school task related or even small things as ‘can you buy me this’, he never buy the wrong product.