#right to judge people that way their confidence convinces other people

[snekdood]

so tired of "cool kid" cliques bc the kids in it often aren't even cool, just assholes, and they're also usually boring as fuck w 0 talents besides maybe sportsball.

[lady-of-endless]

Seong Gi-hun (player 456) x player!reaader headcanons (season 2)

Author's Note: I woke up with notes on my other Gi-hun post and watched season 2, got hooked again, and decided to write this. I hope you'll enjoy it! Click here for a masterlist because there's more to come.

- The innocence from the first game is lost once and for all. He's unintentionally less approachable now, always stoic, always tense. After the first game, some thought he was either crazy or suspicious. Your gratitude for his help during the first game surpassed any way you pictured him before. So you decide to keep an eye on him.

- Gi-hun is too focused on the game system and guards to notice you studying him from time to time. He's both amazed and worried about how different the players are from the first time he was there. But if there's one thing that remains the same, it's the sudden greed when the prize is getting higher with each elimination.

- But he doesn't see that in you. After the first game, you understood the gravity of the situation and forgot about the money. The moment the piggy fills with money and everyone is in awe except for him, you look around and your eyes lock with his. He finally notices you then and there. Why? Because you're the only one not looking at the money anymore.

- The second time he will notice you is when you won't eat well because of all the stress and shock. Gi-Hun silently approaches you, sits next to you, and calmly explains how you must eat to have energy for the next game. Despite his stoic tone, you can see worry in his eyes.

- During one night, when he is the only one awake to watch around, you join him in silence. That's when you start opening up to him more. He wasn't expecting it at all.

- He will never judge your reasoning for entering this wicked game. Gi-hun will just listen and try to show understanding.

- Since then, you stayed close to him. He didn't mind it at all. Plus, his mind was already busy with plans and possibilities to save as many as he could.

- You'd think that he might've developed trust issues but his heart didn't allow that. Not when he got attached so fast. You were always there to support him or help him find the right words to convince other players to stop the game from continuing. Slowly, you become something like his confidant even if he forced himself to be cautious around other players.

- When he opens up to you, he opens up about his experience first. He's done it before, telling people what he went through with this damned game but no one asked him how he feels after everything, except for you. He's stunned. It feels like you somehow made your way inside and he's powerless, he can't do anything about it,

- His hands twitch and his body tenses every time you risk getting hurt. He's not even aware of how ready he is to rush to you and help if you need it. But the others are aware. Some will notice how you two simply gravitate closer to each other. Watch out for a jealous-looking Hwang In-ho (player 001).

- Seon-Nyeo (player 044) talked to you two about how you are doomed because of a curse and other scary spiritual details, the way she does with everyone. Gi-hun was unfazed but his eyes softened when he saw you a little bit worried and disturbed. He comforted you, put a hand on your shoulder, and gave it a reassuring squeeze with a half smile (it's still hard for him to smile again, but he'll do it for you).

- He promises you that he'll get you safe out of there, every day and every night.

- Whatever you two will have, he will insist on being kept secret so you won't be in any additional danger because of him.

[cutielando]

she's all i wanna be 2.0 | lando norris

synopsis: in which you need some reassurance from your boyfriend

a/n: based on this request! this is basically another version of she's all i wanna be, but more focused on their conversation and Lando reassuring reader. it can be read as a standalone. i don't know if this what you had in mind, but i hope you still like it!!

pairing: lando norris x insecure!reader

my masterlist

The Monaco lights were shining brightly over the sleeping city, casting a cold glow on Lando's apartment.

He was yet to arrive home, having gone out with his team to a dinner bash with their sponsors.

Which meant that she was also there, while you were wallowing in your sweats and Lando's hoodie, wrapped up in your thoughts.

It was late, pushing almost 10:30 pm, and you were curled up on the couch with your arms wrapped tightly around your knees, a fluffy blanket draped over your shoulders.

You were staring at the floor, not taking in anything that was happening around you as the same thoughts swirled around in your mind over and over again.

She's so much better than me.

She's so much prettier than I could ever be.

She fits into his world much better than I ever would.

You deserve to be with someone like her, not someone like me.

We should break up.

She was effortless. Her perfect hair, her perfect body, her perfect confidence in herself. She fit right in Lando's world, right in with the people that Lando surrounded himself with, the kind of woman who would never doubt her place in his life.

You, on the other hand, felt like an outsider. A girl who somehow stumbled upon him and found herself in his orbit, unsure if you truly had a place in his life.

You didn't know where these thoughts were coming from. Lando had never given you a reason to think that he might be unfaithful or that he might want someone else other than you.

But how could you possibly believe that when people like her existed? How could believe that Lando would continue to choose you over anyone else when he was surrounded by women like her?

No, it wasn't possible. No matter how much you wanted to convince yourself that your thoughts were only that, thoughts.

You were so wrapped up in your own head that you hadn't even heard your phone go off with a message from Lando saying that he was on his way home, you didn't even hear the front door unlock and Lando getting home.

You were zoned out, somewhere far away from the place you currently were.

"Babe?" Lando called out as soon as he hung his coat in the hall and put his keys in the bowl next to the entrance door.

When he didn't hear anything, he started looking around the apartment, ultimately finding you in the living room, seemingly staring off into space.

"Y/N?" he called out once again, now much closer to you than he had been before.

No response.

Lando furrowed his eyebrows, concern slowly seeping into his body. He put down his phone and slowly kneeled in front of you, putting his hands on your knees and squeezing lightly.

"Y/N, love" he said, his voice now much quieter and careful.

You suddenly jerked back and came back to reality, your eyes looking around you confusedly for a second before landing on Lando, who was now rubbing soft and soothing circles on the skin of your knees.

"Hey, love. Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes desperately searching yours for an answer, an indication as to what was going on inside your head.

You swallowed, quickly contemplating whether it was worth bringing up the subject at all, but ultimately decided against it.

"Yeah, I'm fine" you said, attempting to give him a reassuring smile, but judging by the look on his face, you had failed miserably.

Lando sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

He knew you oftentimes tended to get lost inside of your own mind, and nothing good ever came of those times, but he knew better than to let the the issues go unspoken about.

Lando exhaled softly, shifting himself so he was sitting on the couch next to you. He took one of your hands in his, his grip tightening while his fingers weaved through yours.

"Love, you know you can talk to me about anything. What's going on with you?" he asked, his voice and tone still soft and kind.

You hated it when he would be like this, coaxing every trouble out of you almost naturally. He could read you like an open book, always being able to understand what you were feeling better than you could.

It sometimes scared you how well he knew you, but other times you loved him even more for it.

You exhaled loudly, squeezing your eyes tightly willing yourself not to break down and cry in front of him.

But your brain had other plans, and the words slip out anyway before you could even register what was happening.

"Why me, Lando?" the question was simple, yet it bare so much pain and self-doubt.

There is a brief pause in which neither of you spoke. You were holding your breath in anticipation, the burden of the question hanging gravely in the air, pressing against your chest heavily.

Meanwhile, Lando didn't know how to react or what to say. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to answer a question he didn't even understand whence it was coming from, but a question that seemed like it meant everything to you?

How?

"What do you mean, love?" he asked, his voice no louder than a whisper, but you could clearly hear the confusion behind his words.

Your throat tightened, your brain working overtime in order to find the right words to describe what you were feeling.

"I mean, there are so many girls out there," you started with a shaky breath, feeling the weight of every single insecurity settle over your body like a blanket. "Prettier girls, skinnier girls. Girls who fit into your world, who know how to properly handle all of this," you motioned vaguely towards the luxurious apartment in which you were currently residing, to the lifestyle that feels worlds away from what you're used to. "Girls who don't feel like they're constantly competing with someone else for your attention"

Lando's face softens instantly, his concern briefly replaced with a knowing of what was going on.

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, like he's afraid you might slip away from him at any moment.

"Competing?" he repeats, like the world itself physically pains him. "Baby, you don't ever have to compete with anyone"

"It doesn't feel that way" you said, letting out a humorless laugh while also shaking your head.

Lando shifts on the couch so that he's fully facing you, his hands sliding up to cup your face. His touch is impossibly gentle, thumbs stroking your cheekbones.

"You are it for me, Y/N. You are the only one I will ever want to share my life with" he murmurs, his voice full of so much sincerity it made your chest ache and tears fall down your cheeks.

"She's everything I'm not, Lando" you said, your lip wobbling and your voice cracking.

Lando lets out a soft breath, shaking his head.

"Good, because I don't want her. I only want you" he said, his tone so firm that, for a second, it caught you off guard.

You try to look away, but he wouldn't let you. His fingers lifted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, his green-ish eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration for you.

"I love you because you're not like everyone else, Y/N" he continues, his voice unwavering. "I love that you get nervous before my races and play with my bracelets when you're overthinking. I love the way your nose scrunches up when you don't like something, or the way you always make fun of me when I mess up on Tarkov" a small smile tugged at his lips, like he was remembering every moment as he spoke. "I love that you laugh at my dumb jokes when nobody else does. I love that you make me feel normal when the rest of my world is, well, insane"

A tear slipped down your cheek, but he caught it with thumb before it could fall too far.

"I love you" he murmured, like it's the easiest thing in the world for him. "Just you, always you. Just the way you are"

You let out a shaky breath, and his smile softens at that, if it could be possible.

"I love you too" you whispered, your voice soft and broken.

"Can you do something for me?" he asked, his voice now a soft whisper.

You hesitated for a second before ultimately nodding, albeit hesitantly.

"Stop comparing yourself to her, or anyone else for that matter. You don't see yourself the way I see you" he said gently.

"And how do you see me?" you asked, swallowing hard.

"As the best thing that's ever happened to me" he said, leaning in and pressing his forehead against yours.

A fresh wave of tears pricked at your eyes, but this time, they were not from doubt or sadness. They were from something much warmer, something softer that felt like love wrapping around your heart and squeezing you tightly.

Your arms looped around his neck, pulling him close to you. His scent, familiar and comforting, surrounded you as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding onto you like you were the most precious thing in the worls.

Which to him, you were.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, you know. You're stuck with me forever, whether you like it or not, might as well get used to it" he teased you, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

You huffed out a little laugh, the first real laugh of the night and in a very long time.

"Forever? You promise?" you asked, your voice small as your heart needed to hear it coming from his mouth, a vow that would bind himself to you for the rest of time.

"Forever" he confirmed, squeezing you even tighter against him. "And I'll spend every single second of it reminding you just how much I love and appreciate you"

And for the first time in what felt like a long time, you believed him.

Because you loved him more than anything, just like he loved you.

And maybe that was enough.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[lady-luckk]

they’re just french

# pairings: yandere alien x reader

# synopsis: a weird alien comes to town but no one seems to mind. no matter what they absolutely no one minds. it’s like your the only one with common sense around here.

# warnings: this will contain dark themes such as obsession, possessiveness, and murder. if you are uncomfortable, please block me. viewer discretion is advised. minors DNI.

# notes: reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated!

morgan arrived in town on a fog-choked evening, dressed in a black coat too thick for the season, their accent lilting and strange.

"french?" people whispered.

"must be."

they spoke softly, moved elegantly, but something about them was off. their fingers lingered too long when they touched your hand. their eyes—too large, too dark—blinked too slow. but they were charming, hypnotic even. especially to you.

you never expected your life to go this way. one moment, you’re reading in your favorite bookstore, the next, morgan’s standing there like a weird french poet who didn’t quite read the “how to blend in with humans” manual.

“do you like baudelaire?” they ask randomly, like they just stepped out of a noir film, but their accent? definitely not french. probably not even earth.

you glance at them, considering the question. "he's cool, i like how his poems have a dark tone to them."

morgan grins. “darkness is the soul’s best friend.”

you’re pretty sure that’s not even a real quote. but hey, who’s judging? “right, right, darkness. got it. are you going through an emo phase. what the hell are you even talking about?"

talking with morgan makes you feel like you're trapped in some weird, alternate universe where nothing makes sense. it’s not just their bizarre behavior—it’s their presence. every time they speak, it feels like you’re being serenaded by an ancient, invisible force, like their voice is somehow filling the entire street with a weird, unspoken promise of things you don’t fully understand. honestly, you're too tired to be freaked out anymore. it’s late, you’re exhausted, and at this point, you’re just going along with it.

morgan stops suddenly, looking at you with those unnervingly large eyes. “can i walk you home?” they ask, their voice low and velvety, carrying a strange weight. it’s not the kind of question you expect from a random person you met in a bookstore. it’s more like the sort of offer someone makes when they already know where you live—and you’ve been unknowingly on their radar for much longer than you care to admit.

you blink, trying to shake off the feeling of impending doom. “sure, morgan. whatever. at this point, why not?” you say, though you’re already questioning your life choices. it’s not like you have a good reason to say no. you’ve heard worse offers in your life, and right now, morgan seems harmless enough. at least, that's what you keep telling yourself as they fall into step beside you, their odd, rhythmic gait making you wonder if they're in some kind of otherworldly trance. but hey, it’s just a walk home, right?

you’re convinced morgan’s going to do something absurd, like pop out a balloon animal out of nowhere. it's not that you think they’re really going to do it, but there's this weird vibe about them. they're dressed all dramatically, walking with way too much confidence, like they're auditioning for a role in a bad sci-fi film. every little gesture seems like it’s building up to some sort of grand reveal. you half expect them to pull a balloon out of their pocket and start twisting it into the shape of a dog, or maybe a giraffe, just to break the tension. but no, they just keep walking, looking completely serious about it.

you glance around at the other people on the street, who’re giving morgan that “what’s up with them?” look. maybe it’s the weird non-french accent, maybe it’s the fact that morgan looks like they stepped out of a supernatural horror movie. honestly, it’s probably both. you don’t know, but you’re starting to feel like you’re in a scene from a bad indie film, and you really wish you weren’t involved

as the days pass, weird things start happening. people vanish. a neighbor. a guy you met at the coffee shop. your cousin’s dog. no one seems to remember them, and you start to think, “okay, is this the part where i realize morgan’s a serial killer, or is this just alien abduction stuff?”

one night, you're jolted awake by a tapping on your window. it’s morgan, staring at you from the dark like they’re a vampire trying to get an invite inside. you sigh. “morgan, it’s 2 AM. i really need sleep.”

“i was drawn to you,” they say in that strange, hypnotic voice, stepping through the window like it’s a normal tuesday. “your soul… it sings.”

you blink. “so, you’re saying my soul is a musical? great. what’s the soundtrack? is it jazz?”

morgan tilts their head, clearly not getting the joke. “no, it’s more like… horrorcore rap.”

“ah,” you say, feeling oddly proud. “classy.”

then morgan does something truly weird. they hover in the middle of the room, skin shimmering like a bad 90s special effect. “i can’t stay away from you. your soul is mine now.”

you look at the weird shimmering creature. "is this what love is? because i gotta say, the whole 'hovering and glowing' thing? not exactly my vibe."

morgan grins, showing way too many teeth. “you’ll learn to love it.”

you back up. “i mean, i’m flattered, really. but could you take me out on coffee date first? you know, before the whole ‘taking over my soul’ thing?”

morgan looks confused, like they've never heard of a 'first date' before. “i don’t drink coffee.”

“oh,” you say, staring at their otherworldly figure. “so, we’re just skipping straight to the creepy alien stuff, huh? alright, cool.”

morgan has some very odd abilities, ones that should probably be a red flag, but honestly? you’re too tired to care at this point. when you mention them to anyone, they just shrug it off with some bizarre excuse that makes zero sense.

like the first time morgan disappears. one moment they’re standing next to you, the next, poof, gone. vanished. you’re standing in the middle of the street, blinking like you’ve just been hit by a low-budget magic trick.

you tell your friend jack about it the next day. “so, morgan… like, just vanished. like, completely disappeared. no trace.”

jack squints. “oh, yeah, they probably just walked behind one of those trees over there. you know, the ones that are definitely known for their, uh, time-bending properties.”

“time-bending properties? those trees?”

“yeah, didn’t you know? it's a thing. happens all the time around here. those trees… they’re ancient. very ancient.”

you stare at him for a good five seconds. “jack, there’s no way those trees are bending time. i think we’re dealing with an alien here.”

“nah, nah,” jack says, waving it off, “totally just the trees. trust me. my uncle once got stuck in a tree’s shade for six hours. time’s weird around here, man.”

you can’t even argue with that.

and then there's the time morgan made their eyes glow—glow, like some kind of radioactive glow-in-the-dark toy—and you're like, okay, this is definitely alien behavior. they tell you it’s because they’re feeling particularly passionate about whatever you’re talking about, but you’re not sure that explains the purple, pulsating light coming from their pupils.

so you go to the local bar and mention it to susan, the bartender. “morgan’s eyes were glowing. like… glowing. purple. i don’t think that’s normal.”

susan doesn’t even look up from her phone. “oh, sure, that's normal. you didn’t know? that happens when someone’s been, like, over-caffeinated. too much espresso. you get this weird glow in your eyes. totally a thing, happens to me all the time. probably nothing.”

“over-caffeinated? no. i’ve seen them drink like a gallon of water, and their eyes still looked like neon signs.”

“eh,” she shrugs, “people just have different reactions to caffeine. some people get shaky, some people turn into radioactive glow sticks.”

and when morgan does this thing where they lift off the ground—like, actually float, feet hovering a few inches above the floor—you don't even tell anyone anymore. what's the point? last time you did, your coworker brad, with all the seriousness in his voice, said, "well, yeah, everyone knows it’s the air pressure around here. it’s a thing. you’re floating, but in a way that makes it seem like you're floating. it’s hard to explain."

"oh. okay," you said. “right, brad, that makes perfect sense.”

and then there's that time when morgan just... opened a rift in space in front of you, like a glowing crack in the air, and you almost saw a different galaxy through it. it was kind of breathtaking, if you didn’t immediately pass out from sheer horror.

you tell your mom about it. “morgan... morgan opened a rift in the air. there was like... another world on the other side. it was so real.”

your mom, always the calm one, takes a long sip of her tea. “oh, sweetheart, that's just a trick of the light. you probably just ate something funny. remember when you thought the toaster was talking to you last year?”

“that was a different incident, mom.”

“sure, sure,” she says, patting you on the back like she’s comforting a child. “but listen, if morgan’s really an alien, why don’t you just invite them over for dinner? we’ll show them how we do things here. very normal, very human stuff.”

you stare at her. “you want me to invite an alien who can warp reality to dinner.”

“well, i’m sure they’d like mashed potatoes.”

you were sitting in a local café with morgan. you know, the one everyone talks about as “the place to be” because the coffee is terrible but the pastries are somehow life-changing. it’s also the place where everyone seems to know everyone else's business, so when morgan walks in, with their strange aura and unsettlingly calm demeanor, the entire room goes silent for a moment.

you brace yourself for the inevitable. morgan’s going to do something weird, you can feel it.

they glance around the café and then lean in to whisper to you in that almost-too-soft voice. “this place smells... like... oppression.”

you blink. “uh... what?”

“oppression. yes. the coffee beans are... shackled,” morgan says, their hand dramatically swiping through the air, like they’re conducting an orchestra.

you don’t even have the energy to respond. instead, you just sip your coffee and hope no one heard.

but, of course, they did. because the whole café has now gone quiet again, eyes glued to morgan. you're beginning to feel like you're in an art installation rather than a simple café visit. but then, without missing a beat, one of the regulars, todd (a guy who wears plaid shirts like they're a uniform), clears his throat and leans over to his friend.

“ah, it’s just the french thing, you know,” todd says, grinning and nodding knowingly. “they’re, uh, very in tune with the spirit of the place, right? super artistic.”

the friend, kelly, nods sagely, not even bothering to question why morgan’s hands are floating a few inches above the table. “yeah, totally. french people—so deep, right? it’s the whole... je ne sais quoi thing.”

you turn to morgan, who’s now staring at the sugar packets with the intensity of a psychic reading tea leaves. "you know, i think they're trying to feel the sugar’s essence," you say dryly, to no one in particular.

“oh, yes,” morgan replies, their voice dripping with theatrical gravitas. “sugar... must be free. unshackled.”

you stare. this is not how you imagined your afternoon would go.

someone else in the café—a woman with a nose ring and an overabundance of scarves—suddenly chimes in, offering the most unnecessary of explanations. “oh, don’t mind them,” she says with a laugh, waving her hand like it’s all perfectly normal. “they’re just being french. you know, that’s how they show they’re thinking deeply. it’s all a performance, really. totally avant-garde.”

morgan tilts their head, looking perplexed for a second before responding with a long, deliberate sigh. “it is not a performance. it is an awakening.”

“oh, right, right,” todd says, not missing a beat, “an awakening. yeah, that’s... super french.”

you give up. you really do. “morgan, are we... really going with this?"

but morgan just smiles and nods like this entire café is part of some grand cosmic plan. "yes. we shall all awaken."

“see?” todd says to his friend, tapping his temple. “awakening. they get it.”

the woman with the scarves chimes in again, her tone unbothered. “honestly, it’s just the french thing. i met this guy once who said the same thing about, like, a sandwich. called it ‘a metaphor for existential despair.’” she shrugs. “very french.”

“exactly,” says kelly. “don’t worry about it. it’s just... art.”

you glance at morgan, who is now staring at a croissant as though it holds the secrets of the universe. you wonder if anyone here even realizes how bizarre this is, or if they’ve all collectively decided that anything strange is just part of the charm.

“do you actually... eat?” you ask morgan, suddenly concerned they’re about to start chanting at the food.

“i consume... ideas,” they reply, taking a delicate sip of their coffee, which, honestly, looks like it’s made of existential dread. “the essence of being.”

the regulars? nodding. everyone is nodding like this is perfectly normal behavior. you start to think that maybe you’re the crazy one for questioning it.

“ahh, yes," todd sighs with satisfaction, "that’s definitely french."

you’re sitting in the café, trying to hold it together, but it's getting harder. morgan has been doing weird stuff this whole time, and everyone keeps making excuses for it. everyone. you start wondering if you’re the only one who can see how off they are. maybe you’re the one who's losing it.

the last straw? well, it happens as morgan calmly stands up, walks to the counter, and starts... gently caressing the espresso machine.

“what—what is happening?” you whisper to yourself, barely able to keep your voice from cracking. you look around. nobody seems to notice. the barista just gives morgan a polite smile. “hello! can i get you something?”

morgan doesn’t even respond. instead, they keep gently caressing the espresso machine like it's some ancient, sacred artifact.

“are you kidding me!” you want to scream, but you don’t. you’re frozen, your eyes glued to the sight in front of you. you look at the other people in the café, trying to gauge if they’re seeing what you're seeing.

there’s todd, sipping his coffee, completely unfazed. kelly’s typing something on her phone with one hand, casually flicking her scarf around with the other. no one seems to care.

“morgan,” you finally say, forcing the words out between clenched teeth, “are you—are you petting the espresso machine?”

“yes,” they say in a tone that’s so serene it’s almost alarming, “it is speaking to me.”

“IT’S SPEAKING TO YOU?!” you nearly shout, completely losing it. “IT’S A COFFEE MACHINE. IT DOESN’T TALK. WHY IS NO ONE ELSE QUESTIONING THIS”

kelly looks up from her phone, totally unbothered. “oh, don’t mind them,” she says, as if this kind of behavior happens all the time. “they’re just french. you know how it is. very... artsy.”

artsy?! ARTSY?!

“artsy?” you repeat, voice cracking. “they’re petting a coffee machine like it’s a puppy! and you’re sitting here telling me it’s artsy?”

“yeah, totally,” todd says, looking over at you like you’re the one who’s out of place. “it’s like, they’re probably just feeling the energy of the coffee, right? the espresso machine’s got vibes, man.”

VIBES? you can feel your sanity slipping, one comment at a time.

morgan, still caressing the espresso machine, looks over at you with an eerie smile. “the machine’s energy... it is vast. timeless.” they turn back to the espresso machine like they’re in some kind of ritualistic trance. “it will grant me... the knowledge of the perfect coffee.”

and everyone? they just nod. like this is perfectly normal. like you’ve walked into some kind of strange art house film where the actors are pretending to be normal, but everyone’s so deep that you can’t figure out if you’re on the set of an alien invasion movie or a bad dream.

at this point, you can’t take it anymore. you stand up, shaking, trying to maintain your composure. “this is not normal. this is insane! i’m losing it here, and you’re all just sitting there like—like nothing’s happening!”

todd shrugs. “nah, it’s just the french thing, man. don’t worry about it.”

“i swear to god,” you mutter, “if you say french one more time...”

“very french,” kelly adds, with a smug smile. “you’ll get used to it.”

you look at morgan, who’s now humming softly to the espresso machine, eyes closed. you can feel your brain slowly unraveling as the room starts to blur. it’s all slipping away. everyone here is pretending like this is totally fine. you’re the only one who’s actually losing it.

“okay,” you say, putting your hands on your temples, “okay, fine. it’s fine. i’m fine. i’m losing my mind, but i’m fine.”

morgan looks up from their sacred ritual and smiles at you, serene as ever. “it’s okay. you’re awakening to the truth.”

and that’s it. that’s where it breaks. you start to laugh. it’s a crazy, manic laugh, but it’s all you can do. you can’t stop it. you’re losing it.

todd raises an eyebrow, but still, he just shrugs. “yep, definitely french.”

after that, you decided you needed to get drunk. you couldn't deal with this shit anymore. and of course, morgan decided to follow you.

currently, you’re at the bar, sipping on your drink, trying to avoid making eye contact with the guy across from you. he’s been glancing at you every few seconds like he's in a slow-motion romantic comedy, and you’re starting to feel weird about it. morgan’s sitting next to you, but they’ve been unusually quiet, staring at the guy with an intensity that’s definitely not normal.

“i swear, if he looks at you one more time, i’m gonna have to do something,” morgan mutters under their breath. you barely hear it over the background chatter, but the way they say it makes you pause.

“what?” you ask, half thinking it’s a joke.

“you don’t understand,” morgan says, their tone dead serious. “he’s been staring at you—that’s my person. and no one gets to look at my person like that.”

you shrug, rolling your eyes. “he’s just being friendly. it’s harmless.”

morgan doesn’t respond, just continues to stare at the guy like he’s the villain in their favorite horror movie. you don’t know if it’s because of the drink you had earlier or if something’s genuinely wrong, but the tension in the air is getting thicker by the second.

before you can even process what’s happening, morgan stands up and starts walking toward the guy. “morgan, what the hell are you—”

you don’t get to finish the sentence. morgan’s already standing in front of the guy, who’s still laughing with his friends, completely oblivious. there’s a moment of eerie silence, and you can see the poor guy’s smile falter as he realizes that morgan’s been standing there for a little too long.

“you’ve been staring at my person,” morgan says, their voice so calm that it shouldn’t be possible. “you think that’s acceptable?”

the guy blinks, obviously confused. “uh, what?”

“you’ve been staring at them. that’s mine,” morgan adds, tilting their head like they’re explaining the most basic concept in the world. “you don’t just get to look. not unless you want to join the club.”

the guy laughs nervously, thinking morgan’s joking. “uh, okay, dude. chill out.”

and then morgan grabs him by the throat. like, with no warning, no hesitation, just a firm, iron grip. the guy’s eyes bulge, his hands flailing, and he’s sputtering in a way that seems a little more... desperate than playful.

you stand up from your stool, but something’s wrong. morgan’s eyes are locked on the guy, and there’s an eerie stillness in the air. you’re starting to wonder if you’ve been stupidly underestimating morgan this whole time.

“morgan,” you say, trying to get their attention. “what are you doing?”

morgan doesn’t answer. instead, they look at you, still holding the guy up by his throat like he weighs nothing. “this is for you,” they say, voice sickeningly sweet, like they're gifting you a bouquet of dead roses. “he thought he could take you from me. but... no one takes my person.”

you start to speak, but morgan doesn’t even wait for your response. they twist the guy’s neck, a sound you can’t describe, not with words, just... a crack. he slumps to the ground.

you blink, trying to process what just happened, but before you can, morgan turns back to you, flashing a smile that’s so casual, it’s like they just helped you with your groceries. “that was for you,” they say, like they’re explaining how to make toast. “he didn’t understand the rules.”

the guy’s body is still twitching on the floor, but morgan just brushes their hands together, like they’re cleaning off some dust. “he was staring at you. my person. you don’t do that, right?”

you stare at morgan, utterly stunned. “did you just kill him? for looking at me? what the hell, morgan?!”

“what? it’s not that big of a deal,” morgan says, as if they’ve just told a joke. “besides, he was a total idiot. you saw the way he was looking at you. i mean, seriously—who stares at someone like that?”

you just stand there, blinking, trying to wrap your head around the fact that there’s now a dead body at your feet and morgan’s acting like they just set down a cup of coffee.

then, as if on cue, a random guy at the bar looks over, his eyes wide. “uh, is... is everything okay over there?”

morgan doesn’t miss a beat. “yeah, it’s just... you know, french stuff. we’re passionate. it’s complicated.”

the guy nods, like he’s just learned the most logical explanation in the world. “ah, yeah, of course. makes sense.”

you glance around. no one seems to care. no one’s even acknowledging the body. the bartender's wiping down the counter, like it's another tuesday. and the guy who was just staring at you? he’s being entirely ignored, like it’s all perfectly normal.

you take a deep breath. “this isn’t okay, morgan. this is beyond weird. this is insane.”

morgan smiles, their voice dripping with sweetness. “but i did it for you. don’t you see? I love you. i’d do anything to keep you safe.”

you stare at morgan, slowly realizing that there’s no escaping this. you are their world now. and they’ll kill anyone who threatens that.

“and that,” morgan continues, “is just how things work. we’re together now. no one else gets to look. no one else gets to want.”

you try to take a step back, but then you hear the bartender casually say to the guy next to him, “yeah, you know how it is with the french, right? gotta love that intensity.”

you roll your eyes. oh. yeah. of course.

[22ayla21]

I love your scenerios so much!!

If it's not too much, could I ask for how the amphoreus men would help their spouse through postpartum depression? It's okay if it's too uncomfortable though

Postpartum Depression Support

How Amphoreus men would help their wife with postpartum depression

From the Author: I could write a dissertation on the topic of how such vulnerable moments in a woman's life are natural and that men need to respond adequately, but also help their partners when they need support.

He would try to be there as often as possible, even if he had important things to do. If necessary, he would put aside his responsibilities, because his family comes first for him. He doesn’t pressure her with questions, but is always there if she wants to talk. Mydei knows how to listen, even if he doesn’t immediately understand all the emotions she’s going through.

He would help her with the baby, take the baby with him at night to give her a chance to sleep, or just bring him so she doesn’t have to get up unnecessarily. Understanding that she also needs time for herself, he would take the baby for a walk or do something with the kids so she could rest or just be alone.

He wouldn’t say “it’s just hormones” or “you can handle it,” but instead would sincerely tell her how much he appreciates her and everything she does. Hugs, kisses on the forehead, touches on the hands - he shows his love even without words, knowing that sometimes this is enough to make her feel safe.

He could organize a relaxing evening for her, a bath in warm water or her favorite tea, just to make her feel cared for. He would not pressure her, but would remind her that she is strong and loved. He believes in her, and this is the best support he can give.

If he noticed that she needed support from other close people, he would unobtrusively arrange a meeting with those who could support her. Mydei would not judge her for tears, irritability or fatigue, but would simply be there to experience it together.

Anaxa would never rush his wife to "get back to normal." He understands that this is a difficult period, and instead of saying things like "pull yourself together," he simply stays close, allowing her to experience her emotions. If he sees that his wife is exhausted, he silently picks up the baby, rocks him, changes his diapers, and even reads him scientific treatises - because who said that babies can't listen to something intellectual?

He makes sure that she eats on time, rests, and does not overexert herself. If she refuses to eat, he will find a way to convince her to eat, even if he has to resort to a soft but firm tone. He will not constantly ask "Are you okay?", but his presence will be felt. Even if he is working in his office, he is always ready to interrupt his work if he feels that she needs him.

If his wife feels like a bad mother or is worried about being tired, Anaxa will gently but confidently remind her that motherhood is not a perfect picture, but a natural process with its own difficulties. If she wants to talk, he listens. Even if these are complaints, tears or tired words like "I don't have time for anything," he will not devalue her feelings.

He is not a joker, but if he understands that she needs a release, he can say something like: "Our son is growing by leaps and bounds. Perhaps by tomorrow morning he will write his first theory?" - with an absolutely serious expression on his face.

Anaxa knows that his wife likes their cat, so he often "puts" the fluffy pet on her lap, silently watching as she begins to stroke him and relaxes a little. Sometimes the most important thing is just to hug. Without words, without explanations, just a strong embrace in which you can feel that you are not alone.

He does not say that everything will get better right away. He's just making it clear, "You're not alone. We're in this together. And we'll get through this."

Phainon knows his wife too well not to notice that something is wrong. If she has become quieter, more thoughtful, distant, or seems tired even after resting, he knows that it is not just physical fatigue. He will not bombard her with questions like "What happened?", but his actions speak for themselves: he stays close more often, discreetly helps with the baby, and carefully monitors her condition.

He will not allow his wife to feel like she has to cope with everything alone. Taking care of the child? He is already holding the baby in his arms. Housework? Everything is done. She needs to rest and recuperate. He not only hugs her more often, but also makes sure that she feels physically calm. He makes sure that she has a comfortable pillow, a warm bath, and the opportunity to just sit in silence.

He never allows her to feel like only "mom" and remind himself of her former life. He may suggest going outside for some fresh air, taking a walk, reading, or simply having an evening without talking about the kids. If she suddenly starts talking about her worries, he listens without interrupting or trying to “solve the problem” right away. He just listens, letting her talk.

He will never say something like, “You should be happy” or “Other mothers can handle it.” Instead, he says, “You are not alone. This is normal. And we can handle it together.”

If she has trouble falling asleep or the baby wakes her up at night, he gets up himself to calm the baby down, and asks her to rest. He will not allow fatigue to worsen her condition. He will not allow her to think that she is a bad mother or that she is doing something wrong. If he hears such words, he immediately tells her gently but firmly that she is the best mother, and the baby adores her.

He can lift her spirits in subtle ways - with a gentle joke, an unexpected hug, or by arranging a cozy evening where she can simply forget about her worries. If he sees that her condition is prolonged and getting worse, he will not be stubborn and will think about inviting her relatives or specialists who can help. Because the most important thing for him is that his wife is happy.

[drdemonprince]

Hi! I just wanted to hand something off to you. I was the one who asked about self-harm, cutting in my case, as a positive expression of sexuality (though I used sexuality as shorthand for what I consider a tertiary feeling to traditional sexuality, something that I think more closely describes my relationship to cutting as an asexual person, but that's a tangent). Anyway, your exceptionally open-minded reply bolstered my confidence, like, a lot. It motivated me to start pulling together relevant resources with help from other users in the Death Panel discord server. The first thing I was given back was a piece which immediately changed my life, and I wanted to share it. More specifically, I've always found something bothersome about the concept of "harm reduction" as a keystone in the topic of self-harm; primarily that it leaves open the "rhetorically" undeniable assertion that the ultimate reduction in harm would be abstinence of that harm in its entirety. I wanted to point especially at the concept presented in this article which concerns the definitive delineation of harm. I've tried like 4 times now to summarize the point made, but I cannot in a way which is as satisfying as the piece itself: https://pasleciel.substack.com/p/measure-once-cut-twice-in-defense Thank you again, because your act of understanding has genuinely saved my life. I don't think I'd have felt like I had a leg to stand on without your reply.

Thanks for sharing that link, I will check it out! I'm really glad you messaged and glad that my reply was helpful to you. I think "harm reduction" does kinda present the stigmatized act as one that does still cause some harm -- and in presenting it that way, it tries to convince the skeptical that permitting a behavior is better than attempting to ban or control it because acceptance allows that harm to be mitigated or worked around. That position still presents the behavior as a thing to be permitted or tolerated by others rather than the individual's right and sole business no matter what. The harm reductionist model came into being in order to push back against forced abstinence, forced institutionalization, and forced treatment -- the norm was already to rob the person engaging in the behavior of their autonomy by default, and so an argument for giving that autonomy back kinda had to be made. But abandoning that sort of thinking entirely and abandoning clinical judgements of excessiveness or harm is the logical next step.

If we continue trying to drag more behaviors under the banner of the "socially sanctioned" one by one -- as the piece you linked puts it -- instead of doing away with the power of social sanctions entirely, then we don't really get very far. We keep having to prove that the behavior has some prosocial and positive health benefit. I've always favored total libertarian anarchy instead. A person should be free to remove body parts, cause themselves disability, scar or mutilate themselves, change the shape of their body, change their body's functionality etc as they see fit because that's theirs to decide, and anything less means that people have the authority to judge whether their reasons are "good" enough (which usually turns into demanding that the person prove that the changes they want will make them more valuable to somebody else).

All said, I'm really glad you find cutting enjoyable and meaningful, and I brought up the example to my disability ethics class at the medical school this week thanks to you.

[svt-luna]

𝜗℘ IF ONLY

❛ 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺? 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯. 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵? 𝘪𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦. 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪’𝘮 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮? 𝘪𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦, 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪’𝘮 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦— 𝘪𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺. ❜

timeline: 2017 & 2018

synopsis: A moment of vulnerability, a confession left unanswered, and a heart quietly breaking— If only things had gone differently, but some stories take time to unfold.

warnings: cursing, crying, misunderstanding, drinking, angst, drunk confessions, rejection, sad!Luna, confused!Jeonghan, heartaches, talks about embracing the pain, unrequited love (?), a somewhat hopeful ending

surprise! my first ever one-shot in the Luna-verse, I really hope you guys like it! Also… I am so sorry for making this sad and angsty. A lot of you have been asking me about how Jeonghan rejected Luna ever since I posted the Group Ships… so here it is, but I promise it gets better from here. Luna and Jeonghan’s story is very very interesting so keep a lookout on that 🤍 (p.s. I made myself cry writing this.)

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

If only she wasn’t the way she was, that is what Luna thought growing up.

Luna had always found it difficult to make friends. From a young age, she was used to the way people looked at her— peers who seemed to keep their distance, children her age who were either too intimidated by her or too quick to judge. The few times she had tried to approach someone, their hesitation or outright dismissal had stung.

But with time, Luna learned to accept it. She carried herself with an air of quiet confidence, convincing herself that she didn’t need to fit in with the rest. Even as a child, she’d find comfort in the quiet, the solitude that followed her like a shadow.

That sense of isolation followed her into her teenage years, long after she had moved back to Korea to chase her dream of becoming an idol. At just fourteen, she had thrown herself into a world where competition was everything.

It was hard enough to adjust to the grueling training regimen, but there was something even more challenging— forming connections.

Surrounded by other trainees, Luna had hoped that maybe here, in the shared space of hard work and ambition, she would finally find people who understood her.

Instead, the distance only grew.

The girls she trained with didn’t just avoid her because of her looks. They avoided her because of her talent, her skill, and her determination.

Luna was better than them, and they knew it.

Every time she entered the practice room, Luna could feel the stares. Her sharp movements and flawless execution stood out, but not in the way she had hoped. It didn’t make people want to get closer to her. It made them wary as if they were afraid her presence alone was a threat.

Luna never intended to intimidate anyone; she simply wanted to do her best. But no matter how hard she worked, it seemed to push people further away.

Luna had taken it as a compliment as she got older. But back then, it was suffocating, watching the others group together while she was always left on the sidelines, untouchable, unapproachable.

If only she could have done something differently.

If only people could see beyond her cold exterior.

If only people weren't so quick to judge.

As she grew older, she tried to find some comfort in the idea that perhaps this distance was a compliment. If they were intimidated, it meant they saw her as someone to be taken seriously, someone skilled enough to be a rival. And rivals didn’t need to be friends, right?

But even as she told herself this, the isolation lingered. There were times when the silence became suffocating, and she wondered if anyone would ever approach her without that look in their eyes.

No one ever did.

Not until Jeonghan.

She remembered the first time they met vividly like it was etched into her mind.

It was her first day at PLEDIS after she had transferred from YG Entertainment. She had expected it to be just like the others— people watching her from a distance, maybe a polite nod or two but no real effort to get to know her.

But Jeonghan had been different from the start.

While the other trainees kept to their familiar circles, glancing at her curiously but saying nothing, Jeonghan had walked right up to her. His messy swept hair was already growing since then, and there was a smile on his face— easy and warm as if they had known each other for years.

“Hi,” he had said, extending his hand to her. “I’m Jeonghan. What’s your name?” he’d said with a casual smile like it was the most natural thing in the world. His warmth disarmed her and made her wonder why he didn’t hesitate like the others.

Luna had blinked, momentarily stunned by his straightforwardness. She had been so used to people shying away from her that for a second, she didn’t know how to respond.

“I... I’m Jiyeon,” she had managed to say, her voice uncharacteristically small. “Or Luna… you can also call me Luna.”

“Jiyeon or Luna,” Jeonghan repeated, his smile widening. “Welcome. If you need anything, just let me know.”

That was it. No fanfare, no awkward small talk— just a simple greeting, but it had meant the world to her.

It still does.

Jeonghan was the first person to make her feel like she wasn’t an outsider in the cutthroat world of trainee life. From that moment on, he became a constant presence in her life.

He became her first friend within the company and her first proper friend ever. The one who cheered her on during monthly evaluations when no one else would.

His voice would always rise above the whispers of competition, “You’ve got this, Nana-ya!” he’d say, his voice full of encouragement.

And when she did well— when she ranked first during one of the most intense evaluations— it was Jeonghan who was the first to congratulate her, beaming with pride as if her success was his own.

If only she had realized back then just how important he’d become to her.

Jeonghan became her anchor, the one person she could count on when the loneliness threatened to overwhelm her. He was the first one to truly see her—not just as another trainee, but as someone worth knowing.

Jeonghan was her first friend, her first best friend, but he was also the first guy she ever liked.

As time passed, it became clearer. Jeonghan wasn’t just a friend to her. Luna didn’t know when it had happened exactly, but one day, she realized that her feelings for Jeonghan had shifted.

It wasn’t a loud, thunderous realization. It crept in like a slow sunrise, soft and warm.

His easy smiles, the way his hair would fall into his eyes, the effortless kindness he showed not only her but everyone around him. It was the way her heart would flutter when he smiled at her, the way she would find herself glancing at him in the practice room, admiring his soft features, the way he moved with effortless grace… it all felt different.

It made her heart ache, a tender pull that grew with every interaction.

Jeonghan wasn’t just her best friend— he was someone she cared about, someone who had become more important to her than she had ever anticipated.

It started innocently enough, a soft crush that lingered in the back of her mind, growing stronger with every passing day.

Back then, Luna had convinced herself it was just admiration. After all, Jeonghan was everything she wasn’t— outgoing, charming, and effortlessly kind. He had a way of making everyone feel comfortable, and for someone like Luna, who had always been hard to approach, that was something she admired.

But it wasn’t just admiration. She knew that deep down.

If only she could stop herself from liking her best friend.

It terrified her.

Cause just like every first crush, it came with fear.

Fear that he wouldn’t see her the same way.

Fear that their dynamic would change, and the closeness she cherished would slip away.

As a trainee, Luna had done her best to suppress those feelings. She’d bury herself in practice, pushing herself harder and harder, hoping the exhaustion would numb whatever emotions were swirling inside her.

But Jeonghan always seemed to break through that wall. He was the one who encouraged her when she doubted herself, the one who praised her when she felt like she wasn’t good enough, and the one who always made sure she never felt alone.

He had this way of showing up exactly when she needed someone, even when she hadn’t realized she needed anyone at all.

If only it were simple.

If only her heart didn’t race every time he smiled at her during practice, or when he pulled her aside after evaluations just to tell her how well she’d done.

If only she could keep it all together like she wanted to. But every time they stood next to each other on stage, every time they shared a laugh behind the scenes, every time he gave her that gentle, knowing look that only he could, her feelings for him grew stronger, despite how desperately she tried to push them away.

And yet, she knew she couldn’t say anything.

From their trainee days to their debut, Luna kept those feelings locked inside. She’d convinced herself it was better that way. After all, they were in the same group now. They were members of SEVENTEEN, a team. If anything were to happen, if her feelings were ever discovered, it could ruin everything they had worked so hard for.

The thought of jeopardizing that terrified her. That is the last thing she wanted was to complicate things—for herself, for Jeonghan, or the group.

So, for years, Luna held back.

She smiled when Jeonghan smiled at her, laughed when he teased her during practice and pretended it didn’t hurt when he leaned a little too close to one of their other members, playfully tugging on their sleeves the same way he did with her.

Luna tried to delude herself into thinking that her feelings would fade sooner or later.

If only it did.

The feelings persisted, gnawing at her every time they shared a moment. And as much as she tried to hide it, there was no denying the truth: she had hard fallen for him.

Soon, she had become a master of hiding her emotions, of keeping her heart carefully tucked away.

By 2017, she had gotten so good at it that even she almost believed she didn’t care anymore.

Almost.

But it all came crashing down one late night in June, in the quiet of their shared dorm floor. The group had just come home from a long day, having performed at ‘Music Bank’, and the exhaustion clung to them like a heavy fog.

But for Luna and Jeonghan, the night was far from over. It had become their little routine— after a long day, after all the noise and chaos of performing and smiling for the cameras, they would retreat to either Jeonghan or Luna's place, pour a few drinks, and talk.

Tonight was no different.

The apartment was dimly lit, casting a soft glow around the living room where they sat on the floor, leaning against the couch, with half-empty glasses between them. The curtains were drawn shut, blocking out the city lights, and the only sound was the low hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clink of their glasses as they took small sips.

The rest of the members were asleep or off doing their own thing, leaving Luna and Jeonghan in their own little bubble, just as they always had been.

Jeonghan had been talking about something— Luna wasn’t sure what exactly, her mind was too clouded with the effects of the alcohol and the way he was looking at her, that soft, knowing gaze he always gave her when he thought she was overdoing it. His now blonde hair, now tousled from the day, framed his face as he watched her with that same concerned look he always gave her whenever they drank together.

“You’re going to regret this tomorrow, you know,” Jeonghan said, his voice soft but amused. He leaned forward, reaching for her glass as if to take it from her, but Luna pulled it back with a childish pout, cradling it against her chest.

“I’m fine,” she whined, her words slightly slurred, but playful. She leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes for a moment before glancing at him with a half-smile. “We are so busy nowadays that we never get to just… talk anymore. I miss this.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, shaking his head. “We’re talking now, aren’t we?”

Luna nodded, her gaze drifting to the ceiling. The room felt heavy with unsaid words, with all the things she’d been holding back for years. And yet, there he was, sitting across from her, calm, composed, completely unaware of the storm raging inside her.

He was so infuriatingly perfect— always knowing what to say, how to make her feel safe, how to make her laugh, how to keep her at a distance just enough that she could never cross that line.

Jeonghan shifted beside her, his arm brushing against hers as he reached for her glass again, gently prying it from her hands this time.

“Nana-ya, you’ll get hungover if you keep this up,” he said, his tone more serious now. His fingers brushed hers as he took the glass, setting it aside, and she hated how even that small touch made her heart race.

If only if her heart stopped doing that.

“I don’t care,” Luna murmured, the alcohol loosening her tongue more than she realized. She slumped further into the couch, her legs stretching out in front of her, her head turning to rest on the cushion behind her.

She watched as Jeonghan stood up, stretching his arms over his head before leaning down to gently take her hand, pulling her up with him.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing as he gently tugged her toward her bedroom.

“I’m not tired,” Luna whined again, stumbling slightly as she followed him, her body swaying from the alcohol.

She felt warm all over, not just from the drinks, but from the way Jeonghan was guiding her with such care, as if she were fragile, something to be protected. His hand was steady, firm but gentle as it held hers, and Luna found herself hating it. Hating how easy it was for him to be like this. How perfect he was.

“We can talk more in the morning. You need to rest.” Jeonghan said, his voice soft but insistent. He led her into her bedroom, helping her sit down on the edge of the bed.

Luna shook her head, her vision blurring slightly as she stared up at him. “You’re too good to me, Hannie,” she mumbled, her words tumbling out without her even realizing it. “You’re… too perfect, it’s annoying.”

Jeonghan paused, crouching down in front of her, his hands resting lightly on her knees as he looked up at her with that same gentle smile. “What are you talking about?” he asked softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face

Luna's heart clenched. She hated it. Hated how effortlessly he could make her feel like this.

“You make me feel things,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “And I hate it.”

Jeonghan blinked, his smile faltering slightly, but before he could say anything, Luna let out a frustrated sigh, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his shoulder. He stayed quiet, his hands gently resting on her back, his touch light, almost hesitant. He didn’t say anything, didn’t push her away, didn’t ask her to explain. He just stayed there, holding her, letting her lean on him as the weight of her words hung in the air between them.

“You’re too perfect,” she repeated, her voice muffled against his shirt. “And I hate it. I hate that you make me feel this way.”

Jeonghan's brows furrowed as he heard her words, the frustration lacing her voice, and something in his chest tightened.

He had a feeling he understood what she meant— he wasn’t oblivious, after all. He’d seen the little signs, the lingering glances, the way her gaze softened whenever he was near. But even with that knowledge, there was a part of him that needed to hear her say it outright. To confirm what he had long suspected but never dared to address.

“What do you mean?” he asked softly, his voice gentle but probing, hoping she would clarify even though he already had an inkling.

Jeonghan’s heart beat a little faster, anxiety swirling in his chest. He didn’t move, his hands still resting lightly on her back, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her shirt. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, the weight of her leaning against him.

Luna pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes, her expression a mix of frustration and something else— something raw, something vulnerable.

“I hate you,” she muttered, her words slurred but filled with emotion. “I hate that you make me feel like this.”

Jeonghan blinked, momentarily taken aback by the bluntness of her statement. “What do you mean ‘feel like this’?” he asked again, his voice quieter now, a little more uncertain.

Jeonghan knew, of course, he knew, but hearing her say it— he needed that.

Luna huffed, her frustration growing as she ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the strands as if trying to pull herself together.

“Since we were trainees, Yoon Jeonghan,” she said, her voice rising just slightly, her words tumbling out faster now as if she couldn’t stop them. “You were always so... nice to me. Too nice. And you were always there, cheering me on, helping me, making me feel like I wasn’t alone. You made me feel so pretty… so loved… so feel special.”

Jeonghan swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He listened, his heart pounding in his chest as she continued.

“And I hated it. I hated how much I needed that. I hated that every time you smiled at me, I felt something. Something I wasn’t supposed to feel.” Luna’s voice cracked, her frustration turning into something more fragile, more pained. “It’s been the same since we were trainees. And even now... even now, you’re still making me feel this way. And I don’t know what to do with it anymore.”

Jeonghan stayed silent, his mind racing. He could feel the weight of her words sinking in, each one hitting him like a stone, and yet... it wasn’t surprising. Not really.

Jeonghan was good at reading people, he had always sensed it— this undercurrent between them, something deeper than friendship, something unspoken that lingered in the spaces between their interactions. But hearing her admit it, hearing the depth of her frustration, her hurt... it made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“Jiyeon-ah...” he started, his voice soft, but before he could say anything more, Luna slumped forward, her body going limp as the alcohol finally took over. She had passed out, her breathing evening out as she leaned against his chest.

Jeonghan froze for a moment, blinking down at her in surprise. His heart was still racing, his mind spinning with everything she had just said, but as he looked at her now, so peaceful in her sleep, all that frustration and pain gone from her face, he felt a wave of tenderness wash over him.

She looked so fragile in that moment, so vulnerable, and it made something deep inside him stir. He didn’t move right away. Instead, he sat there for a few minutes, watching her, his hand lightly brushing the hair away from her face as she slept. His heart ached for her, for the weight she had been carrying for so long, for the feelings she had kept hidden all these years.

If only things had been different.

If only he had realized sooner.

Jeonghan let out a soft sigh, his fingers trailing through her hair one last time before he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. It was light, barely there, but it was all he could offer at that moment.

“Goodnight, pretty angel,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he slowly pulled away.

He stood up, carefully laying her down on the bed and pulling the covers over her, making sure she was comfortable before stepping back. He glanced around the room, his gaze falling on the mess they had left behind in the living room— the half-empty glasses, the bottle of soju, the scattered snacks. With one last look at Luna, he quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.

Jeonghan made his way back to the living room, his mind still spinning from everything that had happened. He cleaned up in silence, his movements slow and methodical as he cleared the table, washed the glasses, and wiped down the counter. His thoughts kept drifting back to her words, the way she had looked at him, the raw emotion in her voice.

By the time he finished cleaning, the apartment was quiet again, the night settling in around him. He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, his hands resting on the back of the couch as he stared at the empty space where Luna had been sitting earlier.

If only he had known earlier.

If only things were simpler.

The next morning, Luna woke up with a pounding headache and three immediate regrets.

If only she didn’t remember what she said to Jeonghan last night.

If only she hadn’t drank so much.

If only she drank more— enough to forget.

But she remembered everything. Every. Single. Thing. And she knew, with a sickening certainty, that Jeonghan did too.

Luna stayed in bed longer than she should’ve, staring up at the ceiling as her mind replayed the previous night’s events on an unrelenting loop. The hazy confession, the way her voice had trembled when she told him she hated how he made her feel—her heart sank deeper with each flash of memory.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to forget, but it was useless. The image of Jeonghan’s face, so soft and caring as she spilled her heart, refused to leave her mind.

Her schedule wouldn’t let her wallow in bed, though. Today was packed with activities: music shows, interviews, rehearsals, variety show tapings, and a radio appearance in the evening.

All of them required her to see Jeonghan.

Dragging herself out of bed, Luna’s stomach twisted at the thought of facing him. How was she supposed to look him in the eye after what she said?

She could still feel the weight of his gaze from the night before, the warmth of his hands guiding her to bed, the way his lips had brushed her forehead so tenderly. Her heart beat faster just thinking about it, but now all she felt was dread.

She couldn’t avoid him. Not when their schedules were so packed together. And yet… If only she could. She pulled on her clothes, barely paying attention to what she was wearing, her mind too preoccupied with thoughts of how to survive the day without falling apart in front of him.

The day started with a soundcheck at a music show. Luna moved through the motions, greeting staff, warming up her voice, and running through their choreography.

All while keeping one eye on Jeonghan.

She didn’t have to look to know he was watching her. She could feel it— the way his gaze followed her across the room. It wasn’t unusual for him to look out for her, but today it was different. His eyes lingered too long, his expressions too soft, too thoughtful.

And yet, she refused to meet his gaze. Whenever he moved towards her, she skillfully maneuvered herself away, pretending to be busy talking to another member or reviewing notes with their staff. When he tried to catch her between breaks, she’d feign exhaustion, lying down in the waiting room, headphones in, eyes closed, hoping he wouldn’t disturb her.

He didn’t. But he watched.

During the interview portion of their music show appearance, she stood sandwiched between Mingyu and Wonwoo, grateful for the buffer zone. Jeonghan was on the other side of the group, but still, she felt his eyes on her. Every time the camera wasn’t focused on them, he’d glance her way, and she’d pretend not to notice.

The weight of it was suffocating, but she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it. Not yet.

The rest of the day unfolded in a blur of performances and obligations. She danced, smiled for the cameras, and laughed when appropriate, all while dodging Jeonghan’s attempts to talk to her. When they left the studio for rehearsals, she managed to stick close to the other members, always positioning herself away from Jeonghan without making it too obvious.

But he was relentless. Subtle, but relentless.

For two days, she avoided him with increasing skill. If he took a step toward her, she’d suddenly have a question for staff or be deep in conversation with another member. If he tried to speak to her during breaks, she’d claim she was too tired or needed to use the restroom.

Thankfully, their schedules were so packed that it was easy to stay busy. The exhaustion from back-to-back schedules worked to her advantage— no one questioned why she was too tired to chat during their downtime.

No one, except for Jeonghan.

He never pressed her. Never forced her into a conversation. But Luna knew. She could see it in the way his eyes would flicker with something unreadable when she ducked out of his reach, the way his expression softened whenever she pretended to be preoccupied.

Jeonghan wasn’t fooled. He knew exactly what she was doing.

And he let her.

But there was no escaping the fact that the more she avoided him, the more she felt the tension building between them. It was like a taut string, pulling tighter with each passing day, each fleeting glance, each unspoken word.

And the worst part? She knew it couldn’t last. Eventually, she’d have to face him.

There was only so much running she could do before everything came crashing down again.

And it did.

Three days after her drunken confession, Luna found herself in the worst possible scenario— alone with Jeonghan.

It had been a long day of grueling practice, the kind that left everyone too exhausted to talk, but not too exhausted to finally notice the tension between the two of them.

Luna was desperate to get to her room, hoping to avoid another awkward interaction. She quickened her pace as soon as they entered the dorm, hoping to reach the elevator before anyone could catch up to her— before he could catch up to her.

One thing about Luna is that she hates elevators— she got stuck alone once when she was a child. From then on she never took it alone… till now, that’s how desperate she was.

She must have jinxed it.

As the elevator doors slid open, she stepped in quickly, but a second later, Jeonghan slipped in behind her. The doors closed, trapping her in the small, suffocating space with the one person she had been desperately trying to avoid.

“Fuck my life,” She cursed under her breath.

Where were the other members? Normally, someone would’ve joined them, but tonight, it was just the two of them. Jeonghan must’ve said something to the others, some quiet, strategic whisper to give them privacy.

Luna sighed audibly, her shoulders tensing as she avoided looking in his direction.

The silence in the elevator was unbearable. She could feel Jeonghan’s presence beside her, calm and unhurried.

She hated how composed he always was— how nothing seemed to faze him. Luna, on the other hand, felt like she was barely holding herself together, her heart pounding in her chest, her palms sweaty as she stared straight ahead, willing the elevator to reach her floor as quickly as possible.

But Jeonghan didn’t speak. He didn’t push, didn’t prod. He simply waited, giving her space, like he always did.

If only he wasn’t so perfect.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Luna broke the silence. "Just spit it out already," she muttered, still refusing to meet his eyes.

She knew he had something to say, something he’d been holding back for the past three days. It was the thing she had been dreading ever since she confessed her feelings to him— the thing she had been running from since their trainee days.

Jeonghan’s voice was soft, almost tender when he finally spoke. "You’ve been ignoring me."

He didn’t sound angry or hurt, just… understanding.

And Luna hated it. He was too perfect, too kind, too gentle for her own good. How could she not fall for someone like him? How could she not hate him for making it so easy?

A beat of silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable.

Luna could feel the weight of his gaze on her, but she kept her eyes on the elevator doors, counting the seconds in her head, hoping this would all be over soon. But the words were clawing their way out of her, demanding to be spoken.

"What do you want me to say, Han?" Her voice was sharp, and defensive, as if she could protect herself with her words. "That I lied? ‘Cause I didn’t."

She finally turned to look at him, her eyes meeting his for the first time in three days. The impact of it hit her like a wave— his warm, concerned gaze, the softness in his expression, the way he looked at her like he saw straight through her defenses.

"If only it was," she added quietly, her voice breaking just a little at the end.

Jeonghan stepped forward slowly, his movements careful and deliberate, like he was approaching a wounded animal. His hands found her arms, his touch light, barely there, as if he was afraid to hurt her. He gently caressed her skin, his thumb tracing small circles against her sleeve, soothing in a way that only made everything worse.

"Jiyeon-ah..." His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if saying her name out loud might shatter the fragile moment between them.

He didn’t need to say anything else.

Luna knew him all too well.

She knew him inside and out— knew that the look in his eyes wasn’t just concern. There was something else there, something that made her stomach twist painfully.

A twinge of regret. Sadness.

She already knew what he was going to say.

And she dreaded it.

"I…" Jeonghan hesitated, his grip tightening slightly as he prepared to speak, his gaze never leaving hers. "I care about you so much, you know that, right?"

Luna nodded in defeat, biting down on her lip to keep the flood of emotions at bay. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

"But… we can’t do this." His voice was soft, so gentle as if he was trying to let her down easy. "It wouldn’t be professional. And it wouldn’t be fair to the others, to the team. We’ve worked so hard to get here, and… we can’t risk that."

There it was.

The polite rejection.

The one she’d expected but had hoped would never come. The words hit her like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from her lungs. She went numb, her mind buzzing with a kind of dull, painful shock.

She had prepared herself for this. She knew it was coming. But still, it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her.

She couldn’t hear anything else.

The world around her became a blur, Jeonghan’s words fading into the background as her mind shut down, overwhelmed by the weight of it all. Her chest felt tight, her throat constricting as she struggled to keep herself composed.

If only she could forget this moment… this feeling.

At that very moment, something in Luna’s brain snapped— a survival instinct, a deep-seated need to protect herself from the pain that had just hollowed her out.

A switch flipped, and determination settled over her like a mask. She forced a giggle, light and airy as if nothing had happened. As if her heart wasn’t hanging in tatters inside her chest.

She could see Jeonghan’s face soften, but not in relief. No, his eyes were filled with something else—pain. He knew her all too well. Knew this was her defense mechanism. Her way of pretending everything was fine.

Jeonghan opened his mouth to say something, maybe to stop her from pretending and shutting him out but Luna was faster.

"It’s fine," she said, her voice calm, steady. Her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "I was drunk and being stupid."

There it was.

The first lie.

And then, with a forced chuckle, she gave him the second, her all-time favorite lie, one she had practiced in front of a mirror countless times just in case this moment ever came.

"It’s a little crush. It’ll go away soon."

Luna had become so good at pretending, at brushing off her own heartbreak as if it were nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

She waved her hand dismissively as if her heart hadn’t just been ripped to shreds and thrown at her feet. As if she wasn’t praying for the earth to open up and swallow her whole so she could disappear from the sheer embarrassment of being rejected.

"I’m sorry for worrying you," she said, her voice light, too casual. "You know me. I didn’t want to come off as weird and I’ve been missing my parents lately… Plus, with our schedule being so crazy, I’ve just been all over the place."

She was explaining herself, making excuses for her vulnerability, for the way her feelings had slipped through the cracks in her armor.

It was easier to blame it on something else— on homesickness, on stress— than to admit what was really happening inside her heart.

She saw Jeonghan frown, saw the worry deepening in his eyes as he tried to get a word in, but she was already moving, already pivoting away from the conversation.

"We’re okay." She cut him off, a little too cheerful. Her firm voice cutting through as if to reassure Jeonghan or more so to reassure herself. She stepped forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, something she’d done a hundred times before but this time it felt like a goodbye. "Don’t worry about it."

As if on cue, the elevator doors slid open, and without waiting for a response, Luna slipped out, leaving Jeonghan standing there, stunned and silent.

The moment the door to her apartment clicked shut behind her, the facade crumbled.

Luna’s breath hitched, and she locked the door with trembling hands. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she collapsed onto the floor, the weight of everything she had been holding back crashing down on her in one violent wave.

She pressed her forehead to the cool surface of the floor, squeezing her eyes shut as silent sobs wracked her body. The room was too quiet, the kind of quiet that only amplified the buzzing in her ears, the heavy thud of her heartbeat.

She had known it would hurt, but she hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.

For years, she had kept her feelings carefully hidden, burying them deep inside her chest where no one could see, not even herself sometimes.

Luna had told herself it was better this way, safer. But now that it had all come out— now that she had laid herself bare only to be rejected— it felt like everything she had built around herself was crumbling.

All the walls she had put up, all the armor she had worn, were useless now.

If only she hadn’t said anything.

If only she had kept quiet like always.

If only she hadn’t let herself hope.

Luna was angry— at the universe, at herself because she couldn’t find herself to be angry at Jeonghan. It was not his fault after all. It’s not his fault he didn’t feel the same way, he didn’t do it on purpose. In the same way, she didn’t fall for him on purpose.

However, she was angry that she had been stupid enough to believe, even for a second, that he might feel the same way… even a little. Angry that she had let her guard down. Angry that no matter how hard she tried to let go, her heart had latched onto him with a vice grip that wouldn’t loosen.

Her thoughts spiraled, wild and desperate as tears streamed down her face. She had tried for so long to suppress her feelings, to push them down, to keep them from surfacing. But now, they were all spilling out, every fear, every insecurity, every moment of doubt.

Years, she thought, choking on the sobs. Years of holding this in, of pretending I was okay… all for what?

Luna had always known that liking Jeonghan would lead to this.

It had been inevitable, she supposed.

A quiet, creeping sense of dread that had lived in the back of her mind ever since they were trainees. She had always feared that this would be the outcome, that her feelings would only ever be one-sided, that the day she confessed, everything would fall apart.

But she had never expected it to hurt this much.

Her heart clenched painfully, and for a moment, she wished she could rip it out of her chest just to make the pain stop.

The rejection wasn’t even the worst part.

No, it was the fact that Jeonghan had been so kind about it.

So understanding.

So… perfect.

Luna hated that about him.

Hated that he had been so gentle, so considerate when he let her down.

It would’ve been easier if he had been harsh if he had given her something to be angry about. But instead, he had given her nothing but soft words, valid excuses, and apologies.

The buzzing in her ears became a dull hum as the last of her sobs faded, and in the silence, her body slowly went numb as she curled up on the cold floor, hugging her knees to her chest as she let the pain settle deep within her heart.

Luna didn’t push away the pain this time; she allowed it to consume her, to wrap itself around her heart like a vice.

Every ache, every sharp sting of rejection, she accepted it— because maybe if she let herself feel it fully, let herself drown in it for just this moment, her heart would finally learn.

Maybe this time, the hurt would leave a scar deep enough to remind her, to teach her, that hoping for more was futile. That loving someone who didn’t feel the same way was a battle she was always destined to lose.

Maybe, she thought, maybe this time, my heart will finally take the hint and move on.

But deep down, Luna knew better.

She had tried to move on before— countless times—and it had never worked.

No matter how much she wished for it, her heart had always found its way back to Jeonghan. Always.

And now, as she lay there, broken and exhausted, she realized with a painful clarity that this wasn’t the push she needed to forget him.

No.

This was only the beginning.

It was still painful, though.

Knowing that the first guy she had ever liked— the first person she had truly opened up to— would never see her the same way.

Jeonghan had been the first person to approach her, the first person to become her friend, the first person she liked, and now, he was the first person to break her heart.

If only things had been different.

Life, however, moved on.

The next day came with the same grueling schedule and the same routines. Music shows, interviews, practice sessions, and variety show appearances all blurred together as if nothing in her world had been torn apart the night before.

Luna didn’t allow any cracks to show; she was an expert at wearing her mask by now. She laughed with the other members, joked with the staff, and smiled for the fans— all while something heavy settled deeper within her chest, like a stone she couldn’t quite shake off.

With Jeonghan, it was as if nothing had ever happened. No awkward tension lingered between them, no strained silences or hesitant interactions. He treated her the same way he always had— kind, supportive, teasing her whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Jeonghan was worried, of course.

Luna could see it in the way his eyes lingered on her a second longer than usual, the subtle softness in his voice whenever he spoke her name. But he didn’t push. He didn’t force her to talk about what had happened that night, didn’t ask for explanations or demand a conversation she clearly wasn’t ready to have.

Luna spoke to him like she always did, her tone light and unbothered.

Not once did she avoid him because, in her mind, avoiding him would only prove that she wasn’t okay.

And she desperately needed to be okay.

She couldn't allow anyone— especially Jeonghan— to know the truth despite knowing he probably already did.

That her heart still beat just as fast when he smiled at her, that every casual touch sent a familiar warmth spreading through her chest.

No, she wasn’t going to let anyone see that she was still hurting.

Not again.

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months and Luna realized quickly that nothing had changed with her feelings.

They hadn't diminished, they hadn't been pushed away. If anything, they only grew stronger the more she tried to bury them.

So, she made a decision: she would lock them up deep down in her chest, chain her heart, and throw away the key.

It was better like this. Safer.

But fate has a cruel sense of humor.

Because no matter how far Luna thought she’d thrown the key, somehow, in some twisted cosmic joke, it landed straight into Jeonghan’s hands.

Unbeknownst to her, he had already begun to notice the cracks beneath her carefully crafted facade, the moments where her smile faltered just a little too long, or when her gaze lingered on him longer than she intended.

Jeonghan, who had always been so attuned to her, had found the key she so desperately wanted to hide.

And little by little, without her even realizing it, he was using it to unlock the very heart she was trying so hard to protect.

A year had passed since that night.

A year since Luna had bared her soul, and Jeonghan had rejected her.

It was 2018 now, during the filming of the music video of their song ‘THANKS’ and the air was thick with a quiet intensity as the members pushed through a grueling day of shooting.

But even amidst the rush and exhaustion, Jeonghan couldn’t help himself. His eyes followed Luna from a distance, as they often did.

She was talking animatedly to the camera set up for their ‘Inside SEVENTEEN’ behind-the-scenes footage.

Luna’s laugh echoed faintly across the set, and Jeonghan couldn’t stop noticing the smallest things about her.

The way her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners when she smiled— an indication that it was real, genuine, a smile that Jeonghan hadn’t seen in far too long. He noticed how her hair danced in the light breeze, strands occasionally kissing her face before she absentmindedly brushed them away.

Her smile stretched wide, almost reaching her ears, a sign that today, she was happy. Genuinely happy.

And Jeonghan was thankful for that. He’d worried about her for so long.

Luna turned toward him then, catching his gaze. For a moment, time seemed to slow as she smiled at him—soft, warm, real.

Jeonghan returned it with a smile of his own, but the second her attention shifted back to the camera, where she began laughing about something with Dokyeom who sneaked up on her from behind, his heart twisted in a way he hadn’t expected.

Jeonghan would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about her confession every day since it happened. Because he had. It had haunted him, followed him into every quiet moment, and lingered in every glance they shared.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it— about her. He hadn’t stopped worrying about her since that night, either.

The truth was, he admired her— he always had.

Jeonghan admired the strength she had to smile and laugh even when she must’ve been hurting inside.

He admired how effortlessly beautiful she was, today, yesterday, and every day in between.

He admired how she seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders but never let it dim her light.

But as Jeonghan watched her now, laughing freely with Dokyeom, something sharp and bitter jabbed at his chest.

It was innocent, of course. Luna and Dokyeom had always been close. Their laughter was nothing more than friendly.

But that didn’t stop the sudden realization from slapping Jeonghan across the face: he couldn’t keep this lie up any longer.

The lie that he had been telling himself since the night Luna confessed to him.

When she had stood there, vulnerable and raw, spilling her heart out, he had been scared.

He’d made excuses— talked about professionalism, about the team, about the risks. But deep down, they were just that— excuses.

He had lied, not to her, but to himself.

Because he felt the same.

He always had.

And he’d been too scared to admit it, too scared to face what it would mean to let himself fall for her.

If only he hadn’t lied.

If only he hadn’t been scared.

If only he had the courage to do what his heart had been telling him all along.

But the sight of her laughing with someone else, even if it was innocent, hit him like a bolt of lightning.

The thought of someone else making her laugh like that, of someone else being the reason behind those genuine smiles— he couldn’t handle it.

Jeonghan couldn’t let someone like Luna go.

Not now.

Not ever.

His hands were clammy as he fidgeted with the hem of his top, his leg bouncing anxiously. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest, it felt like it might burst out. There was a smile creeping up on his face, a warmth spreading through him, and for a moment, Jeonghan wondered if he was going into cardiac arrest.

But then, no… this wasn’t heart failure.

This wasn’t a symptom of physical pain.

This was him falling for Bae Jiyeon.

It wasn’t fear.

It was exhilaration.

It was the undeniable truth that he couldn’t keep hiding anymore. He was falling for her— had been for a long time, but now, it was clear as day. The thought of her with anyone else made him feel like he’d lose a piece of himself.

And there was only one way to fix that.

Jeonghan wasn’t discouraged by his mistakes from the past. No. He was determined now— more than ever.

Determined to make this right, to tell her what he should’ve said a year ago.

Determined to hold onto her before it was too late.

With the key to Luna’s heart, which she had thrown away in her desperate attempt to lock her feelings deep inside, now firmly in Jeonghan’s grasp, he was determined to unlock a future they both had wished for but were too hesitant and scared to reach.

Jeonghan is determined to do anything to turn the if only into an unequivocally so.

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3 @jennwonwoo @k13endall @heeseungthel0ml @chisskaa @megumi2020 @yoonzzziino @lllucere @smh-anon @yveclipse @randomworker @bunnystrm @iamawkwardandshy

[littlelamy]

Perhaps a reverse status thing. Pouge Rafe and Kook Reader request. The plot itself came from some short film Drew did in college. Maybe Reader gets set up a blind date at the country club, where Rafe works as a bartender. Rafe is very flirty when she sits down etc, but gets disappointed when hearing why she is there. In walks her blind date and it’s a girl (Reader is straight – and her cousin thought she was a lesbian since she’s never been on a date with a guy)

a/n: thank you for requesting, hope you like it! ⭐️

you had never been to the country club before.

well, that wasn’t entirely true. your parents had dragged you to a few formal events, but it had always felt stiff, uncomfortable, like everyone was watching your every move. judging you. it was nothing like the easy, carefree vibe you were used to.

but this wasn’t about you. this was about your cousin, who was convinced you were a lesbian.

you still didn’t understand how she’d come to that conclusion. maybe it was because you’d never gone on a date with a guy before, or maybe it was because you didn’t constantly talk about guys like some of the other girls at school. either way, she thought she knew what was best for you.

and, in her mind, setting you up with a blind date was the only answer.

“she’s perfect for you!” your cousin had insisted, holding up her phone with a wide grin. “you’ll love her, I swear.”

you raised an eyebrow. “but… it’s a girl?”

your cousin waved you off. “yeah, don’t worry, you’ll see—when you meet her, you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

you sighed.

despite your doubts, you agreed. but when you walked into the country club tonight, you still couldn’t shake the sense of discomfort. the club was upscale, fancy—nothing like the laid-back world you were used to. the stuffy atmosphere hit you as soon as you walked through the door, and you were immediately regretting agreeing to this setup.

you passed a few people standing around in their expensive outfits, pretending to enjoy the social atmosphere. your eyes scanned the crowd, looking for your blind date, though you weren’t even sure what to look for.

before you could find a place to stand, you heard a voice behind you.

“can I get you a drink?”

you turned around to see the bartender—a guy with a white shirt, sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly tousled in that messy but purposefully styled way. his smirk was as easy and casual as his demeanor, and something about the way he looked at you made your heart beat just a little faster.

“um, I’m just waiting for someone,” you answered, a little too quickly.

he raised an eyebrow. “blind date?”

you blinked in surprise. “how’d you know?”

he chuckled, a low, warm sound. “you have that look. but if you change your mind, I’m rafe.” he leaned against the bar, arms crossed, studying you with a smirk still playing on his lips.

you couldn’t help but smile back, though you immediately reminded yourself to keep your cool. he was probably just a flirt—guys like him didn’t pay attention to someone like you, right?

“y/n,” you said, giving him your name before turning to scan the room again.

rafe didn’t seem to mind the lack of conversation, though. “I’d offer to buy you a drink, but since you’re waiting for someone…” he trailed off, clearly not bothered.

you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a little less tense in the face of his charm. maybe the night wasn’t going to be thatbad.

but as soon as you turned to look at the door, a figure entered, and you froze.

your cousin had set you up with a girl.

you glanced at rafe again, but he wasn’t looking at you. his attention was fully on the figure walking into the club—the same person you assumed was your blind date.

the girl was dressed in a sleek dress, exuding an air of confidence you didn’t have. and as she made her way toward you, you could already tell it wasn’t going to be an easy night.

rafe seemed to notice the awkward silence that settled between you and your blind date. he tilted his head, clearly confused. “uh, not the date you were expecting?”

you looked at him, feeling more self-conscious now. no, not at all.

rafe watched you closely, his expression flickering between amusement and mild confusion as he glanced between you and the girl approaching.

you cleared your throat, trying to focus. “this… this isn’t who I thought I was meeting.” you felt a heat rise in your cheeks, cursing your cousin for this miscommunication.

the girl who had walked in was smiling, looking completely at ease in this environment—this was her world. the country club, the people who belonged here, the perfection in her every movement. she looked out of place beside you.

you forced a smile, standing up awkwardly as she approached. “hi,” you greeted, extending your hand in a handshake. “I’m y/n.”

she returned the handshake with a friendly smile. “glad to meet you, i’m mia.”

“mia,” you repeated, a little thrown off.

rafe, still leaning casually against the bar, watched the interaction with interest. you couldn’t tell if he was still unsure of what was going on or if he was just curious.

“so,” mia started, looking at you with a bemused expression. “how long have you known your cousin?”

you stammered a little, caught off guard by the question. “uh, a while, like since birth.”

she smiled again, but this time it felt more like a question mark than an invitation for conversation.

you didn’t want to be rude, but this was getting uncomfortable. rafe’s presence felt like a lifeline, even if you barely knew him. you glanced over at him, meeting his eyes for just a moment.

“so, mia,” you tried to fill the silence. “do you, uh, come here often?”

before she could answer, rafe cut in, his tone playful. “don’t mind me, but you look a little confused. are you two... supposed to be on a date?”

the way rafe asked, with that charming smirk of his, made you laugh nervously. mia, however, raised an eyebrow.

“um, yeah,” she answered, turning to him with a slight smile. “I think so.”

but the confusion between you two lingered. rafe glanced over at you and then at mia, clearly trying to figure out the situation.

as the evening wore on, the awkwardness continued to hang in the air like a heavy cloud. you and mia had little in common—nothing that your cousin had anticipated, nothing that made the blind date feel right.

at one point, you excused yourself to the restroom, your mind a mess of confusion and frustration. when you returned, rafe was still behind the bar, but he’d been joined by a few other people.

you made your way back to the bar, more than ready to escape the tension. when rafe saw you coming, he gave you a quick smile, the kind that made you feel like maybe everything wasn’t as hopeless as it had seemed a few minutes ago.

“how’s it going?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

you sighed, sinking into the stool. “it’s terrible. this whole thing was a disaster.”

rafe’s smirk faded, replaced by a look of understanding. he leaned in a little, lowering his voice. “so... your cousin didn’t tell you it was a girl?”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “she did. she's so sure that i'm a lesbian. thought she was helping me out.”

rafe chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for you.”

“feel sorry,” you muttered.

he smiled, a genuine warmth to it. “you know, if you want, I could get you out of here. just say the word, and I’ll tell your blind date you had an emergency.”

you laughed at the offer. maybe rafe wasn’t so bad after all.

“you’d do that?” you teased.

“hey, it’s my job to make people feel comfortable,” he said with a wink. “even if it means sabotaging a blind date.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[insomniac4000]

Chris is on Raya, so maybe could you do a fic where he meets an actress and he tells his friends about it and it's kinda unbelievable, cause she is been in Marvel films or a really famous film

And maybe they breakup and everyone's like "Boy, you fumbled"

This was fun!!

Chris Dixon was definitely a dating app guy, it was almost a running joke at this point, Tinder, Hinge you name it he was on it. Sure, he’d downloaded Raya as a joke after one of his friends convinced him it was a goldmine of opportunity, it took over a year but he was finally accepted but he never actually expected to meet anyone on it, let alone match with a Marvel actress.

The first time he saw her profile, he nearly dropped his phone. Madison Carter. Actual Madison Carter. The same girl he’d watched on Disney Channel years ago, now one of Hollywood’s biggest stars. It had to be a catfish, right? But Raya had security, everyone on the app was verified. HE decided to take a change not expecting anything but then, a few days later, she liked him back, and before he knew it, they were chatting.

It was surreal. She was in London for her new film’s press tour and seemed genuinely interested in him—his football videos, his YouTube career, even his dumb Sunday League matches. After a few days of messaging, she suggested they meet for dinner, and he agreed without hesitation, even if he still wasn’t convinced this wasn’t some elaborate prank.

Chris arrived at the restaurant a little early, trying not to psych himself out. It wasn’t some overly fancy celebrity hotspot, just a nice, quiet place near Covent Garden. He kept checking his phone, half expecting a last-minute cancellation. But at exactly 7:30, Madison walked in, and suddenly, it was very, very real.

She was even more stunning in person, with the kind of effortless confidence only a movie star could have. “Chris?” she said with a warm smile, sliding into the seat across from him. “Nice to meet you.”

He barely managed a coherent response. “Yeah, uh—you too. This is, uh wow this is mental.”

She laughed, and just like that, some of his nerves faded. Conversation flowed easily; she was funny, down-to-earth, and surprisingly normal despite being one of the most famous actresses in the world. She asked about YouTube, about his friends, even about his disastrous attempts at cooking. In turn, he asked about Marvel, about life in LA, and about how weird it must be having people recognize her everywhere.

“I get away with it in London a little more,” she admitted. “New York, too. LA’s the worst for it I don’t really like spending a lot of time there, I much prefer New York.”

By the end of the night, Chris had almost forgotten she was a global superstar. It just felt like a really great date. And when she suggested they meet again, this time in Ireland—since she had a quick trip to Dublin before heading back to New York, he didn’t even hesitate to say yes.

A few days later, Chris found himself stepping into a lively Dublin pub, scanning the room for her. Madison had insisted on going somewhere casual, no five-star hotel bars, just a proper pub with Guinness on tap and a live band in the corner. Chris is very impressed.

He spotted her at a small table, waving him over with a grin. She was dressed down in jeans and a jumper, a baseball cap pulled low, but she still looked every bit like a movie star.

“Did you actually fly out just for this?” she asked when he sat down, raising an eyebrow.

Chris smirked. “Thought I’d make a weekend of it.”

It wasn’t a total lie—he had planned to film some content while he was here—but honestly, Madison had been the main reason he’d made the trip. And judging by the way she was smiling at him, she knew it too.

The night was even better than their first date. The pub was loud and cosy, and they drank pints while teasing each other about their vastly different careers. At one point, an old Irish man approached their table and tried to chat Madison up, clearly not realizing who she was.

“Feck off, mate, she’s with me,” Chris joked, making Madison burst out laughing.

By the end of the night, they were sitting close, knees brushing, her hand casually resting on his arm. When he walked her back to her hotel, she hesitated at the entrance, looking up at him with an expression that made his heart race.

“I had fun tonight,” she said softly.

“So did I,” he admitted. “I, uh—I hope this isn’t the last time.”

She smiled, reaching up to lightly tug at the sleeve of his jacket. “Me too.”

And then she kissed him.

It wasn’t dramatic or flashy—just a soft, lingering kiss on a quiet Dublin street. But it was enough to leave Chris completely stunned as she pulled back, gave him one last smile, and disappeared into the hotel.

A few days later, Madison was back in New York, and Chris was back in London, convinced he’d just lived through the most surreal week of his life. But somehow, they kept talking. Texts turned into FaceTime calls, which turned into late-night conversations about anything and everything, due to the time difference it was often two or three o clock in the morning by the time he went to sleep.

Chris tried not to get ahead of himself. She was a Hollywood actress, for God’s sake. She had a life in America, and he had one in the UK. But then she started talking about coming back to London in a few weeks “just because”, and for the first time, he let himself wonder if this could actually be something.

His friends, of course, lost their minds when they found out.

“There’s no way this is real,” George said, staring at him in disbelief. “You’re messing with us.”

Will was just as skeptical. “Chris, mate, you’re dating a Marvel actress? You?! You haven’t been able to hold a girl down in years.”

Chris groaned. “I don’t know if we’re ‘dating’ yet, alright? But, like… we talk. A lot.”

George shook his head, still in shock. “You’re living in a FIFA career mode storyline, mate. This is outrageous.”

Will grinned. “If you end up at the Oscars, we’re coming as your plus-ones.”

Chris just laughed, shaking his head. Maybe they were right—maybe it was mental. But as he lay in bed that night, staring at a new message from Madison—Wish you were here—he couldn’t help but think that, for once, the madness might actually be worth it.

For a few weeks, things felt almost too good to be true. Chris and Madison found a rhythm; constant texts, late-night FaceTime calls, and a couple of sneaky weekend trips. She visited London under the guise of “work meetings,” and he flew out to LA for a few days, claiming he was “filming content.” It was exciting, it was fun, and for the first time in a long time, Chris felt like he was properly falling for someone.

Then, the paparazzi photos happened.

It wasn’t anything crazy—just a few shots of them walking down the street in LA, coffees in hand, chatting and laughing like any normal couple. But of course, the internet exploded. Within hours, tweets and TikToks were dissecting their body language, debating whether they were actually together or if it was just a “casual thing.” YouTube clips popped up with dramatic titles: ChrisMD Dating Marvel Star?! His comment sections were flooded. Even his mates couldn’t believe it.

“Mate, you’re literally on TMZ,” Will texted, sending him a screenshot of a headline.

George followed up with, “You know you’ve made it when Hollywood gossip pages care about you.”

Chris tried to brush it off. Madison did too. “It’ll die down,” she said over the phone, voice calm but tired. “Give it a few days, and someone else will be the hot topic.”

But it didn’t die down. If anything, it got worse. Every time Madison was seen in public, people speculated whether she was on her way to see him. His fans turned into detectives, tracking their movements. Even their FaceTime calls started to feel like a risk—was someone going to catch a glimpse of him in the reflection of her sunglasses or the background of a story?

And then there was the distance.

As much as Chris liked her—really liked her—he couldn’t ignore how exhausting it was becoming. The time zones were brutal. His job needed him in the UK. Hers kept her bouncing between continents. Even when they were together, it felt like they were constantly on borrowed time.

One night, after another long phone call where neither of them really knew when they’d see each other next, he felt the weight of it all pressing down on him.

And he knew.

It wasn’t fair. To her, to himself. They were trying to build something on foundations that just weren’t strong enough.

So, he ended it.

It wasn’t dramatic. No big fight, no angry words. Just a quiet conversation where he told her that he didn’t think they could keep doing this. That as much as he liked her, the pressure, the distance, the scrutiny—it was all too much.

She didn’t argue. Didn’t beg him to reconsider. She just sighed, sadness lacing her voice as she said, “I get it.” She did, this had happened so many times before.

And that was that.

Chris expected to feel relief, but all he felt was like he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life.

His friends certainly thought so.

“You what?!” Will shouted, staring at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Chris, mate, are you actually stupid?” George added, completely baffled. “You were dating Madison Carter, and you ended it because of logistics?”

Chris groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “It wasn’t just logistics, alright? It was—everything. The media, the schedules, the—”

Will cut him off. “Oh, I’m sorry, was the Marvel actress who really liked you too much of an inconvenience?”

George shook his head. “You fumbled. You fumbled hard.”

Chris sighed. He knew they weren’t wrong.

But that didn’t change the fact that it was over.

He could live with the social media comments, maybe Shannon knew how to handle it.

[romancecroc]

Circles (part 5) - Jason x MC

(Ao3 version) (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

Jason sat on his couch, slowly gazing towards the famous portion of his apartment.

The view.

Everything shined so brightly during nighttime. Flickering lights. Parties perhaps.

Or people just returning to their homes, enjoying their evenings together after work.

He rolled his eyes.

Since when did his mind wander to such thoughts.

He took a quick sip of his favorite wine, confident that the delicious taste would fix the mood.

But it didn’t.

If anything, the permanence of his state annoyed him even more.

All he did was suggest dinner.

Why did she react like that?

He groaned again.

It was clear that no kind of distraction would help him this time.

So instead, he closed his eyes, sinking into the couch’s comfort.

Ysaline was an annoyance at first.

Freshly hired and already making bold statements. Whatever Devon told her and the rest of the team, framed Jason as the ultimate villain.

Perhaps he was.

But Ysaline really took it all in, talking about winning against him. How his company would fail. It was only a matter of time until he’d slip.

How funny it was to go along with his assigned role. And then slowly but surely, pull Ysaline to the other side – just to show Devon yet again, that he is superior.

Danica switched sides. Why stop there?

But then Ysaline had to start making small talk.

Or talk back at him, in her own way.

Jason did not take it seriously at first. She was always so quick to judge. Convinced every interaction was related to Devenementiel. Which to be fair, was often the case.

At least at the start.

He wasn’t sure when the priorities started shifting.

Was it at the amusement park? Asking whether he was having enjoying himself felt out of character. Even going to far as to enter the maze with him.

He had fun. It was all very amusing.

The amusement continued during Tasha`s first internship. Or when Ysaline somehow agreed to steal that boat with him.

He always wondered how far he could take it. She clearly was trying to get to know him. Or to confirm whether the villain stories were true.

And with every attempt, he turned things around. Testing her limits. How far would she tolerate his mischief?

Well, not for too long.

It all ended after his majestic fuck up at the apartment viewing, where he called her his mistress.

Unaware of the history of course. But a fuck up, nonetheless.

He made her cry.

Jason grimaced at the memory.

It was around here, where things started changing. Everything he did became an attempt to fix his mistake. The swimming pool incident. Finding Thomas.

The dinner.

It was going to be perfect.

The art exhibition went fantastic. Compliments were received left and right.

Ysaline had agreed to the bet, because of course she did. Every facial expression she made while he selected the dinner’s ingredients were a joy.

And then she was here.

He looked towards the corner where Ysaline stood. Making fun of the Pegasus.

He was surprised himself back then.

He was so close to…

To what exactly?

He almost jumped up.

What exactly was he so close to?

Let’s say she didn’t leave. Let’s say she’d stayed.

In his mind, it was just dinner. And then some wine.

And then…

Jason was burying his face in his hands.

He started to comprehend how it looked like from her side.

And she wasn’t wrong.

If the mood was right, would he have made a move?

The tension in his body was the answer to that question.

Somehow everything he looked away from, started staring him down instead.

He wanted her.

Badly.

“Fuck.”

How he’d redeem himself was a problem for another day. While maintaining his usual image of course.

And with that, he waltzed towards the bedroom and closed the door behind him.  

[odiesdayoff]

The Winner Is...

pair: Robert Fischer x fem!reader

summary: Robert Fischer's stuck judging this year's Miss America Pageant. That doesn't mean he can't use his position to his advantage.

warnings: extremely dubious consent!! (heed the warnings!); mean/condescending Robert Fischer; anal; blowjobs; deepthroating; unprotected sex; a bit of misogyny; power imbalance

made reader from Georgia because I've been watching a lot of Kim of Queens. I've never written a lot of this before so I hope you can enjoy <3 this is also on Ao3 so yea... feedback always appreciated!

but also your consumption is your fault so if you don't like the content well then you should not have skipped/ignored the warnings

ALSO happy valentine's day from me :)

“In your opinion, what is a way that young women can lead successful lives in traditionally male-dominated professions?” Miss America from 2003 spoke clearly into the microphone. She wore her winning sash across her chest and a sparkling dress. 

On her left, a former professional basketball player crossed her arms and sat back. She won the finals for her team two years in a row and now she was stuck judging brainless, but beautiful women being asked sexist questions in the veil of feminism and the uplifting of women. It didn’t matter, though. She was getting paid.

On the right of Miss America 2003, Robert Fischer leaned on the judge’s table with his hands folded. Ever since he fumbled the business deal with Eclipse Solutions, Maurice thought that the best form of punishment was to take his spot as a judge in this competition. Initially, Robert thought that it wasn’t much of a punishment, but after a long week of nonstop noise and hearing these women yap about how they were going to change the world, he understood why his father made him. 

The hard-on he was sporting towards the beginning of the competition was long gone. He couldn’t bear to look at any of them anymore. Even during the swimsuit portion, for God’s sake.

Your smile never fell. The swimsuit you chose emphasized your breasts and slimmed your waist. Saying that you chose it was an exaggeration, your coach said that if you could catch the eyes of Fischer and Johnson, who your coach was convinced was a lesbian, you would have it in the bag. You still weren’t too sure about it. Knowing that your body was getting exposed to millions of people over the television was enough to raise your anxiety.

Attempting to not look like a total fool, you took a deep breath and nodded in response to her question. “Well, as someone who is in the career path of accounting, I have faced a lot of adversarial coworkers and peers. I believe that the best way that young women can gain success is to keep their self-confidence and never stop allowing themselves to learn and grow both professionally and personally. The best way to prove your doubters wrong is to excel in the path that you choose.” You weren’t exactly sure what you were saying, but you had hoped that it came across as something really intelligent to the judges. This was a question you had practiced for so long with your coach, but your mind drew a blank. 

Robert held back a laugh or at least a scoff. There’s no way he would hire you. With a face like that and the way you spoke, there’s no way that you knew how to do anything within the range of taxes or money. Probably a case of affirmative action, he was sure. Either that or you sucked the right man’s dick to get to where you were now. 

Miss America 2003 grinned. “Thank you, Miss Georgia. What a lovely way of thinking. I wish you the best of luck! Mr. Fischer, do you have a question?”

Robert’s bright blue eyes pierced into yours, despite the fair amount of distance from each other. He leaned into his mic. “Do you believe that you get respected more or less because of your appearance?”

The question felt like a double-edged sword. The last thing the general public wanted to hear was that you thought you were beautiful. It weirded people out to acknowledge your beauty, according to your coach.

“While I do think that appearance does affect the way that strangers treat others, it’s in your personality and how you treat others that matters. For me, it doesn’t matter what someone looks like for me to respect them. People that base how they treat others based on looks aren’t worth your time.” You had only hoped that the foundation you had on was holding back the sweat threatening to fall down your forehead. Robert Fischer had been asking the most condescending and borderline rude questions to everyone. It was bound to happen to you, too.

“Mm. Thank you.” He didn’t look amused.

Music began to play and the audience cheered. You smiled again at the judges' table before leaving the stage in the T walk. Once you were off stage and out of sight of both the judges and the audience, you let out a sigh and released the way that you were sucking in your stomach. You had been doing pageants like this ever since you were a little girl and now, your dream of being in this competition was real. Why did it feel so humiliating?

There was only one final day. It was the evening gown portion and the announcement of Miss America for the year. After that, you could finally relax. That is, unless you won and would immediately have to start your training for Miss Universe. Maybe you didn’t want to relax, after all. 

By the time the sun fell, most of the contestants were either spending their last night together in their hotel rooms and doing spa nights while the rest decided to go out to the clubs. You were advised not to befriend any of them by your coach to avoid feeling guilty when you eventually won and they lost. Now, you were alone at a nearby bar nursing a beer and listening to the band playing. It was a cover band of The Killers. Mr. Brightside was the current song getting butchered by the young singer.

It was freeing to be out of dresses and swimsuits and finally not showing off your body. You wore loose jeans and a top with a jacket over it. If they didn’t know you, nobody would even know that you were who you were.

You felt someone sit next to you. In a bar of several open seats, of course, they chose the one basically on top of you. They waved the bartender down and ordered a whiskey. The voice was familiar, one that was ringing in your head all day. You faced him to confirm your suspicions. Robert fucking Fischer.

The drink in your hand was what you tried to focus on. “Not very talkative off stage, huh?” It would be rude to ignore him, you knew that. 

You shrugged. “My social battery is drained.” While it was partially the truth, he was the last person you wanted to be speaking to. 

“You know,” he swirled the whiskey in his glass, “it’s between you and Miss California.” He took a generous sip of his drink as he let the information sink in. 

Excitement and guilt mixed in your stomach. “You shouldn’t say that. We shouldn’t even be speaking, Mr. Fischer.” You finished your drink and stood from the barstool. His hand wrapped around your wrist and stopped you from taking a step away.

“You wanna win, don’t you?” You sat back down, mostly involuntarily, and met his eyes with your own again. They were almost hypnotizing. “I can make that happen.”

“What do you mean?” Questions ran through your head. Was he asking for a bribe? Maybe he had some sort of bet running on you winning.

He smirked at the sight of your intrigue. “This whole competition’s about who’s the best woman, right? They’re still forgetting about the most important thing that makes a woman.” He leaned in closer to you, his hot breath against your skin. “How well they can fuck.”

You waited a moment to make sure that he was being serious, hoping that he wasn’t. The lustful look in his eyes didn’t tell you that he was joking at all. “You’re disgusting.”

“Even if I am, I’m the deciding factor on whether you go down in history as a winner or as nobody at all.” He finished his drink and stood up, fixing his tie. “Johnson likes you. Miss 2003 wants California. It’s all up to me.”

If he was lying, rejecting him wouldn’t mean much in the long run. If he wasn’t, you probably would’ve spent the rest of your life regretting taking him to bed. “Someone will see us going to the hotel together.”

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed you one of his room keys. “Room 704. Wait ten minutes and then come up.” Without saying another word, he dropped some cash on the bar for his drink and left.

The room key felt heavy in your hand. Was winning worth anything if it wasn’t honest? He better have a decent-sized dick if you were really going to do this. 

You felt a hand tap your shoulder. “Y/n L/n? Oh my god, I’m such a big fan! I’ve been watching the whole pageant with my daughter, she loves you!” A woman shook your hand, feeling a bit too formal. The guilt grew in your stomach. How could you be a role model for little girls like this? “Can I have a picture?”

Despite your appearance, you nodded. The room key burned a hole in your pocket as you fixed your hair and took a picture with the woman. Hopefully, the dim light of the bar made you look better than you felt. 

It had already been fifteen minutes since Robert had left. You finally paid for your drink and headed for the hotel. With each step, your anxiety grew. The elevator rose to the seventh floor and you stopped in front of 704. Instead of knocking, you pulled the room key out and inserted it into the door. The light flashed green and you pushed it open. 

Robert was sitting at the edge of the bed without his clothes, stroking himself and staring at the door until you finally walked in. “You’re late.” You kept your eyes around his, trying to prevent yourself from looking any lower.

“I got caught up with something.” You took your jacket off and laid it on the office chair. Given his state of undress, you weren’t entirely sure whether or not you should strip now or wait for his instruction. He seemed like the type who was obsessed with control, especially in the bedroom. The last thing you needed was for him to get angry with you over something so trivial and ruin your chances.

He rolled his eyes. “Sounds like you don’t really want this, don’t you? To win?”

Frantically, you shook your head. “I want it.”

He pointed to the floor right in front of him and spread his knees further apart. You didn’t respond, knowing it was most likely for nothing, and knelt in front of him. For the way that he acted, you would assume it was because he was overcompensating. God, you were wrong.

His free hand grabbed hold of your hair and pushed your head closer to his aching cock. He leaned back. “You’re not gonna win just by looking at it.” You held back from commenting on his attitude and kissed the blushing red tip, the same color as his lips. 

You flattened your tongue against the underside of his head, allowing his precum and your saliva to mix. After hearing the slightest moan of pleasure from him, which was an exhale at best, you took a few inches of him into your mouth. His hand in your hair guided you back and forth along his length.

“That’s all you’re gonna take? I think you could do much better than that.” He taunted, not pushing you down and wanting you to do it voluntarily. “Or, I could just call down Miss California. She’d love to deepthroat me.”

You tried to relax your throat and took him deeper. He was big, much bigger than what you were used to, but you could take him. You inched deeper until your nose pressed against his lower stomach and your breathing was constricted. “Atta girl.” He smelled like the generic body soap the hotel offered with a mix of his cologne. If you could focus on breathing through your nose and sucking him off the best you could, this would be over quickly.

Hearing his heavy breathing and attempts to hide his whimpers sent shockwaves down your spine. You felt the warmth growing in between your legs the more you pleasured him. “I’m about to cum. You’ll swallow, right?”

While you couldn’t answer, you made a sound of agreement that vibrated down your throat. You’d need to do some vocal treatment and tea tonight so you still could speak tomorrow. “Fuck.” He gripped your hair tighter as he came, ropes of cum shooting down your throat.

He finally pulled out once he had fully finished. You wiped a trail of cum and spit from your lips and looked up to him. “Not bad. Though, I’ve had much better. I guess I overestimated you. Take off the rest of your clothes.”

“What does that mean?” You cocked a brow. It felt even more humiliating considering your position in front of him and the way that you could still taste the remnants of his semen coating your throat. 

“Oh, come on. You get a high-paying job straight out of college at a Big 4? You’re either a genius, which I doubt considering half of the answers you’ve given so far, or you’ve slept your way into the job. Now, strip for me.” He spoke matter-of-factly. It was like he’d already convinced himself of his theories, even though they were far from the truth. Couldn’t imagine that a woman like you could make her way up the corporate ladder without the help of rich and successful parents. 

There was no use in arguing, you told yourself and took your clothes off until you were standing naked in front of him. “How exactly is the winner chosen? Aren’t there scoresheets? You’re making it sound like it’s entirely based on personal preference.”

He laughed, this time, a genuine one. “Scoresheets are arbitrary. We make those up to align with who we like the best.” He gestured to the bed behind him with his head as he stood. You followed his order and sat on the edge where he had previously been. His tongue flicked around his lips as he got a good look at you, sitting there so obediently for him. “Didn’t even touch you yet and you’re already dripping.” 

You gave him your best version of doe eyes that you could, following the instruction of your coach. She always said that facial expressions were the most important aspect of impressing someone. If you could read the person and make yourself into their ideal partner, they’d be putty in your hands. Robert seems to like to be in charge and superior, but there was an underlying hint of something you couldn’t put your finger on. Maybe it was the desire to be nurtured? 

“Can’t imagine you’ll feel that good. Not as tight as you used to be, hm?” He took hold of your knees and separated them enough for his hips to fit. He was slowly getting harder again and you felt his tip nudge your clit before gathering your arousal on himself. “How do you think we can remedy that?”

He jerked himself off using your slick, then moved the tip to settle against your ass. You immediately stiffened against him and put your hands against his chest. “No. I don’t do that.”

He groaned and took a step away from you. “Little Miss Georgia Peach is too good to take it up the ass? I’m trying to help you win, but I guess you don’t care.” He picked up your discarded clothes and tossed them to you. 

Your eyes followed him as he walked to the hotel phone and began to dial a number. He checked his watch. The person he was dialing answered. “Yeah, hi. Annie? I need you to do something for me. If you could-” You almost leaped towards the phone and pressed the button, ending the call. Annie was Miss California, he didn’t even need to continue the call for you to understand what he was doing.

“I’ll let you!” You were nearly out of breath, your voice hoarse.

He had to hide his smile from his plan working. “No, sweetheart. You have to ask me for it. Specifically.”

“I want you to fuck my ass, Robert.” You gulped. If this wasn’t your dream, you wouldn’t be begging him like this.

“Turn around.” Once you turned, his hands were on your waist and his tip rested against your ass. He slipped two fingers into your pussy, gathering arousal, and then re-lubed his cock. You’d done this before, but it wasn’t something you necessarily enjoyed. The pain outweighed the pleasure. You just needed to breathe through it.

Your hands gripped the sheets below once his head was inside your tight hole. He slowly pushed further inside until he bottomed out. The white, hot pain was rippling through your body. You focused on inhaling and exhaling and continuing to hold tightly to the bedsheets.

He offered you some mercy, moving only after about ten seconds of being inside. After that, he fucked you as he pleased, entirely ignoring how you might’ve been feeling. You were gonna be sore tomorrow. “Fuck, this is how Miss America should feel.”

He pushed your face into the bed so that he could get a better angle and began to fuck into you roughly, rutting into you like he’d die if he didn’t cum within the next few minutes. 

Confusion surrounded you when he pulled out and you felt a sudden emptiness. Not that you were complaining. He flipped you to your back and you could barely process what he was doing before his hot cum was spurting onto your breasts and stomach.

He pushed his hair back and caught his breath, taking a step away from you. “Get dressed and leave. I’ve got some calls to make.”

You couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach at his confirmation of your win. Maybe it was the orgasm that had never reached climax. Either way, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow. 

~~

Pins pricked against your soft skin as they held parts of your evening gown together. Lights glare on you and your competitors on the stage. It took a lot of your might to not show the extreme soreness that you felt between your legs. You knew that if you were to touch your breasts or tighten the dress a bit more, you’d only be pushing further against the bruises Robert had given you.

The man in question sat in his chair with the other two judges, arms crossed as usual. He barely gave you a passing glance, instead, he focused on discussing things with the judges or looking at the other contestants. Maybe it was just a ploy to not make it seem like he already knew who was going to win. Certainly, that was it. 

The announcer walked on the stage from the judge’s panel with an envelope in his hand. That envelope had your name on it, you knew. He was an irrelevant game show host that you remembered watching when you were home sick from school as a child. Whatever paid the bills.

You kept your award-winning smile on while the announcer took his microphone and began to speak about how the competition was the opposite of what most people thought when it came to beauty pageants. Mostly pandering and filibustering so that the program would be able to run another round of advertisements when they played it on cable. 

“Well, I have in my hand the name of Miss America of this year. Without further ado, why don’t I open it and save these women some anxiety?” He laughed at his own joke while the audience cheered. 

Miss California stood next to you on your left and Miss Connecticut on your right. As per tradition, you held hands with them while the announcer opened the envelope of the winner. You almost felt bad for them, knowing that they were going to lose.

The envelope was open. The announcer leaned into the microphone. “And the new Miss America is…Miss California!”

It was as if you were seeing things in black and white. Confetti fell from the ceiling and Miss California dropped your hand to receive her flowers and sash. You knew that crying would make you look bad, like a sore loser, but that’s the only thing that you felt like doing. You forced a smile and clapped for her.

Robert clapped for the winner, though his cold stare was on you. What you’d never forget was the smile plastered on his face. 

He had won.

[bookloover35]

Bikini Blues- Henry Bowers x fem plus size reader.

It was a warm summer afternoon in Derry, and the air buzzed with the kind of energy that only a sunny day could bring. The town was coming to life, kids running through the streets, ice cream trucks chiming, and couples strolling hand-in-hand, basking in the heat.

You were sitting in Henry Bowers' room, a familiar place that you loved being in. You and Henry had been together for a while now, and despite the rough exterior he showed the world, he was soft with you—his only weakness, as he called it. And while you had always been a little self-conscious about your body, Henry never made you feel less than perfect. He never mentioned your size, always making you feel beautiful, confident, and loved.

But today was different. Henry had been talking about wanting to go to the beach. And for reasons you couldn't explain, the thought made your stomach twist with unease. You'd never been one to wear a swimsuit in front of anyone, let alone in a crowded place. The idea of baring your skin in a bikini made you feel vulnerable, as though the world would be staring at every imperfection.

Henry had noticed your distant mood and had a solution in mind—he wanted to help.

A couple of hours earlier, Henry had come bursting into the room with a plastic bag in hand, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"I got something for you," he grinned mischievously, tossing the bag onto your lap. "Try it on."

You raised an eyebrow, the nervous flutter in your chest turning into confusion. "What's this?"

"Your new bikini," he said, unbothered by your blank stare. "I thought we could hit the beach later, you know? Get some sun. It'll be fun."

Your heart dropped, and your mind started racing. You stared at the bag, the reality sinking in. Henry had bought you a bikini. And now you had to wear it. You couldn't help but feel a wave of insecurity wash over you. Your stomach tightened as you imagined yourself in the bikini, exposed to everyone's judgment.

"Henry, I... I don't think I can," you murmured, your voice barely audible. "I don't think I'm ready to wear something like that."

His face softened immediately, and he sat beside you, his hand gently resting on your knee. He didn't push, didn't try to convince you right away. He just sat there, giving you the space to speak your mind.

"Why not?" he asked, his voice quieter now, like he genuinely wanted to understand. "You're beautiful, you know that, right?"

You bit your lip, avoiding his gaze. "I don't know, Henry. I just don't feel... confident enough. I don't think I look like the other girls at the beach. They're all skinny, and I'm... not."

Henry's fingers gently tilted your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. There was no judgment, no teasing, just sincerity. His gaze was steady and warm, the kind of look that always made you feel safe in his arms.

"Who cares what they look like?" he said, his voice firm with conviction. "I'm with you, not them. And to me, you're perfect the way you are."

You could feel the warmth spread across your cheeks, a mix of love and vulnerability. Henry had always been this way, direct but caring, never once making you feel ashamed of yourself. Still, your insecurities clung to you like a second skin, hard to shake off.

"I'm scared," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "What if I don't look good? What if people stare? I don't want to be judged."

Henry sighed softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You don't have to be perfect, babe. You just have to be you. And I want you to know that you're more than enough for me."

You looked at him, searching his eyes for any hint of sarcasm, but there was none. His love for you was clear, unwavering. He meant every word he said.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded slowly. "Okay," you said, though your voice wavered slightly. "I'll try it on."

"Good," Henry grinned, giving you a playful nudge. "You'll look amazing. And if anyone says anything... well, they can deal with me."

You couldn't help but laugh at his protective nature, the way he always stood by you no matter what. It made you feel braver, like maybe, just maybe, you could do this.

Later, you stood in front of the mirror, nervously tugging at the straps of the bikini. You felt exposed, but Henry's presence in the doorway calmed your nerves. He watched you with soft eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Well?" you asked, turning to him for his opinion, a bit unsure of yourself.

"You look stunning," he said simply, his voice thick with admiration. "Like, seriously, I'm the luckiest guy in Derry."

You couldn't help but blush, the warmth spreading from your chest to your face. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Henry said, his voice low and full of sincerity. "You're perfect, babe. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise."

You took a deep breath, gathering courage. Maybe the world wasn't as scary as it seemed. Maybe, just maybe, you could rock this bikini and go to the beach with the guy who loved you for exactly who you were.

"Alright, let's go to the beach," you said, a smile forming on your lips.

Henry's face lit up, and he moved toward you, offering his hand. "That's my girl."

As you took his hand, you realized something important: It wasn't about what anyone else thought. It was about how you felt in your own skin, and with Henry by your side, you could face anything.

End.

[shadamyheadcanons]

What are your thoughts on Sonurge?

On a silly note: Sonurge demonstrates the main problem with the clumsy “just smoosh the characters’ names together” naming convention. It works on paper, but if you say it out loud, no one knows whether you’re shipping Sonic with Surge or Scourge because their names rhyme. I’ll always prefer fun styles that use actual words like the Pokémon fandom does (ignitionshipping, etc.). Shadow and Amy could’ve been “Guns ’n Roses,” but no. We’re stuck with “Shadamy” forever instead. It’s a damn shame.

As for Sonurge itself, I don’t hate it, but I’m not really a fan. Explanation and alternatives under the cut, along with spoilers through the recent Riders arc.

I prefer pairings where the characters like each other and enjoy spending time together. Surge has been through a lot, and being around Sonic doesn’t help. I’ll never get the appeal of “these two characters piss each other off and try to kill each other, so they should smooch.”

If I want to put Sonic with a rival, Knuckles is right there. He always has been. They thrive on the competition they share, but it’s obvious they care and love spending time together. There’s real trust and fondness there, and you’d never have to, say...bribe Knuckles to convince him to go to Sonic’s birthday party, as a random example.

I also think of Surge as a lesbian despite the lack of evidence. Call it profiling, but...

This is the most butch character I’ve ever seen outside of The L Word.

For Surge’s part, I don’t think she’s ready for a relationship. She has way too much to figure out first. I think she needs to decide who she is before anything else. Once that happens, I do have a vague idea of a relationship dynamic I’d love to see from her, though I don’t have any specific partner in mind yet. Surge has an engaging sense of confidence and boldness to her personality. I would love to see her lean into that when she flirts. If it were me, I’d set her up with an uptight character, someone who’s always played by the rules, who’s high-strung and secretly afraid of losing control and won’t let anyone in. Then Surge strides in, smirks at her, and says something like, “You look like you don’t know how to have fun. I can fix that. 😉”

Surge brings her on a wild, high-speed journey full of thrills, heights, and things the girl has always been too scared or proud to try and sweeps her off her feet, and the girl learns to loosen up and enjoy the ride. Surge would be in her element for once, and she’d get to save someone from a life of careful, controlled, safe monotony. The scene where she got to be a hero for the first time is my favorite moment of hers:

[IDW issue #70]

My first instinct for this was Lanolin because, well...

[IDW issues 69, 57, 62, & 58]

*gestures vaguely*

And on a comical note, it would be funny to see how Surge’s static electricity would interact with Lanolin’s wool. Actual footage of Surge and Lanolin cuddling:

Unfortunately, they got off on the wrong foot:

[IDW issue #67]

...and Lanolin’s already started loosening up thanks to her recent character development, so it’s less convincing than it once was.

But then I remembered Jewel. They haven’t met because Jewel was busy when Surge visited Restoration HQ, so there’s only speculation to go on, but Jewel definitely has the type A personality to contrast well with Surge’s roguishness, and she needs some adventure in her life.

[IDW Endless Summer & issues 45, 31, & 76]

This is the curator of a rock museum. She gets her kicks filling out paperwork. Even she thinks she needs to get out more.

She has plenty of experience looking after reckless people and keeping them out of trouble and, as evidenced by her friendship with Tangle, we know she doesn’t judge or try to change them:

[2019 annual]

Surge has been manipulated by people who’ve tried to change her this entire time. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone accepting like Jewel, who’d provide stability and respect? On top of that, Jewel’s been beating herself up over a lot of things and kind of feels like the odd one out. She used to spend more time with Tangle, but they barely see each other now, and it’s obvious she’s lonely. Lately, it’s become a serious problem; she’s leaned on untrustworthy characters like Duo/Mimic and Clutch because she’s so desperate for support. Sonic, Tangle, and Amy have all tried to make her feel included, but that hasn’t been solved 76 issues in, not permanently. Endless Summer is as subtle as a freight train about it:

The writers have really been beating us over the head with “Hey, have you noticed Jewel needs someone?! Because Jewel really, REALLY needs someone!”

Jewel could also bridge the gap between Surge and the Restoration; she’s approachable and welcoming. It’d be nice if Surge had someone like that on the other side. They already have something in common, too. They both hate Clutch for taking advantage of them.

[IDW issues 72 & 73]

Same vibe, same arc. Never underestimate the power of, “oh, God, he did that to you, too?! Screw that guy!”

With Restoration HQ being gone, it’d be feasible for them to run into each other without Surge finding out Jewel’s the director. They could even get to know each other before that information came out, and by then, Surge could already have a soft spot for Jewel and wouldn’t want to fight, especially since Amy already let Surge know the Restoration wouldn’t force her into anything. And wouldn’t it be cute if Jewel got flustered around Surge, too?

There’s also the funny tendency of queer people to congregate even before they know they’re queer, which pairs nicely with Jewel and Tangle being friends. Take it from me, it’s not just a meme.

Naturally, this is 100% speculation. I don’t normally do never-met ships, but now that I’m thinking about it...👀

That said, I haven’t seen any evidence that the writers are planning to put Surge in a relationship anytime soon, if ever, and they could always just create a new character for that role if they did.

I hope things get better for Surge. She’s not my favorite and she has a lot of things she needs to work on--and some apologies to give--but she deserves happiness, no matter who you ship her with.

[spacelesbiandisaster]

Remember those kids from the Gathering?

I was wondering which master each one of them would get if Order 66 didn't hit, so I made elaborate headcanons about it.

(because I'm unemployed and bored)

You can check Part II here!

Katooni and Obi-Wan

Do I even need to explain this one?

Seriously, I could just say that it would be fun seeing the both of them dealing with Hondo Onaka on a weekly basis and that by itself is all the reason we need. Unfortunately I like to make things make sense in universe and not just because they a fun, so let's talk why Katooni is the perfect Padawan for Kenobi.

They both the mom of the group.

Katooni spent half of her Gathering trying to convince Petro to not do stupid shit, and she seems to take a role of leadership overall during the episodes she participated. I think she deeply cares about her friends and it's not afraid to speak her mind when they do something she judges wrong.

Maybe this particular trait would eventually make her speak out of her place with her master, especially with she was allowed to watch the Council sessions and see some of the master says something they disagree, but if Obi-Wan could raise Anakin it wouldn't be a challenge deal with Katooni's strong personality. Also, because she cares so much about others, their disagreements would solo concerned the method they should use (Is okay to call out Petro in front of his master or should her find some other approach to avoid embarrassing her friend? Should she let Hondo go just because he decided to not robber the people she was protecting or she should hold him accountable for his actions besides her personal feeling? Thing like this.) And Obi-Wan would understand were her opinions are coming from because he has a similar personality.

• Katooni needs a master who help her connect to the force.

Listen, I'm not saying that Katooni is weak but we can all agree that it is curious how she is the last youngling to finish her lightsaber, right?

Her test in the gathering only truly happens once she is out of Ilum (in my opinion) were she sees all her friends with their lightsabers while she herself is struggling to connect the parts using the force. The way I read this is that Katooni have a confidence problem and that is blocking her abilities.

You know how else struggle with that? Luke Skywalker! Luke couldn't understand the force or believe that someone like him could use the force, but Obi-Wan was able to teach him before passing. Katooni is ages ahead of Luke on this matter, but I believe Obi-Wan still the right person to guide her to overcome those blocks and make her more confident and in tune with the Force.

• Katooni is a future diplomat.

Okay, I have to talk about Hondo. This girl was able to make that man do something solo for the kindness of his heart. FOR FREE! Sure Hondo tries to charge Obi-Wan after delivering the kids safety, but I think it was a act so Kenobi wouldn't think bad of him.

My point is Katooni as able to talk her way out of a terrible situation with a help of a pirate how tried to murderer her and her friends. She looked at Hondo and not only instantly forgave him, but also bargain with him to save her friends. Imagine if she was trained with the Negotiator? That girl would be ending wars only with her words by the time she was knighted!

Overall I think that's a lot she could learn from him, and Obi-Wan surely would be glad to have a break from the chaotic nature of Anakin. I don't have anything against the guy, but Katooni is way more of a Jedi than Skywalker is and her and Obi-Wan would definitely vibe together during diplomatic missions.

Gungi and Yoda

It's absolutely criminal that the last Padawan of Master Yoda is freaking Dooku! This little frog deserved better and I think of all youngling Gungi would definitely be the best match for him! And if he stayed alive in a swamp for almost 20 years eating strange sup just to train Luke, I think he could last a decade more in the temple with doctors looking after him and clean food so he could watch over my favorite Wookie!

Gungi would teach Yoda to have hope in the future.

I going to advocate that the master can learn just as much as the padawan if they open themselves to listen, and boy Yoda definitely need to learn some things! Gungi is full of life, has a lot of energy and being around some like this would do wonders for Yoda's spirit. It would remind the Gran Master that the Order has a future and maybe it would make Yoda reevaluate some of his recent decisions.

I think Yoda spend way too much time in the council chambers, and having a Padawan would eventually force him to go out on the galaxy to see something other than the clone wars. I would give him not only a apportunity to connect with the youth but with the people of the galaxy he was supposed to help.

Yoda and the Wookies have a close relationship for decades now (maybe centuries)

I don't think Jedi masters choose their Padawans based on species only, but this is definitely a factor given examples like Luminara and Barriss and Kit Fisto and Nahdar. I think a master had to know a least the basics about their about species be able to teach, and Yoda would be perfect to help Gungi connect with his culture.

A lesson on patience and lost

Gungi is a very impatient youngling, we see this in his test on the gathering with him struggling to wait the lake frozen. This don't see to be a issue when we reunite with him on the Bad Batch episode, but I don't believe that single experience on the cave was enough to make him overcome those feelings. Gungi needs a master who will know how to help him exercise his patience on a regular basis.

On top of that, Gungi seems to be nervous when Ganodi leaves him alone in the lake so she could look for her own crystal. He isn't as scary as Byth, but he is uncomfortable with being alone nonetheless. Being Yoda's Padawan he would probably had to come with terms with the idea that his master would pass away early on his life. Remember, Wookies are a long life species in cannon, so even if he does live longer in the Jedi temple than he would if order 66 happened Yoda would still died when Gungi was a young adult.

Yoda would probably openly speak about his death a lot and it would show Gungi that this isn't something to be afraid of. Being a Wookie would probably mean the he would also have to experience all his youngling clan die as well and he needs to be ready for it.

I also want to point out how important would be if Gungi gave continuity to Yoda's lineage. Sure we have Quigon, Obi-Wan, Anakin, Ahsoka and whoever she chooses to be her Padawan in the future (I plan to make a part II about this eventually), but they are call "the disaster lineage" for a reason... Let's give Yoda a less chaotic lineage please.

Zatt and Quinlan Vos

If anyone in the Jedi order would be up for a challenge that person would definitely be Quinlan Vos. Not that I think Zatt would be a difficult Padawan, but because he is so different than Quinlan their dynamic would be so interesting (to me at least).

Quinlan would forced Zatt to leave his iPad at home.

"Forced" is probably a strong word, but I can't imagine Quinlan letting the boys really on technology as much Zett would like.

Remember that Zett is the padawan how tried to track his crystal using a datapad but eventually got frustrated and call the thing "useless", but much like Gungi, I don't believe that this one experience would change his whole personality forever. Zatt would probably still try to navigate his ships looking at the panels instead of trusting in the force and things like this, but Quinlan would reminder him of his lesson while making use of his abilities (Quinlan would ask Zatt to open so many doors so they could invade criminal hide out without making a big entrance...)

Also how cool would be if Zatt eventually became a sensory time like his master and learn to track his target using the force after years struggling with that?

• Zatt would teach Quinlan to be a little more discreet (I hope)

Zatt probably enjoys hacking into buildings and stealing information on the holonet while Vos is literally the guy how destroy the door of the house of a Hutt matriarch with his lightsaber just because he didn't had the patience to wait Obi-Wan come out with a plan. Zatt would probably give smart solutions for the trouble his master puts him into and Quinlan would have to listen at least from time to time.

• Quinlan would teach Zatt thing he cannot find in the holonet.

I really see Zatt as the iPad kid, and Quinlan would be the cool father who is street smart, you know? He would make Zatt learn from his environment instead on only books, and would make the boy practice abilities he is not currently comfortable with.

Also I think between the knowledge Quinlan has on the underworld factions and Zatt's hack abilities, Quinlan could shape his Padawan to be a really resourceful Jedi when it comes to dealing if criminal activity in the galaxy.

Ganodi and Kit Fisto

Please stay with me with this one.

I think Kit Fisto wasn't expecting getting a new Padawan anytime soon after his battle against general Grievous, but upon seeing Ganodi he would feel a bound and take the responsibility of training and raising the girl. Hear me out:

• A lesson on hope

You when Ganodi freaks out because she can't find her crystal and start to cry because she thinks there's no hope for her? And remember how Kit Fisto stay calm even after his former Padawan (Nahdar) dies and is able to continue his fight?

Yeah, Kit Fisto is the best Jedi to teach Ganodi about putting her fears aside for the sake of her mission. His wining personality (and smile) would also make his daughter Padawan adopt a more positive reaction towards however problem she is going to face.

• A healing journey

I truly believe Kit Fisto was deeply hurt by Nahdar death. He probably thinks it's his fault for not preparing the boy well enough, and would have the same fears about Ganodi, but eventually he would see they are different persons and the thing she struggles with are not the same as Nahdar. It would be different if he picked a over confident Padawan such as Petro (who I think is probably a lot like Nahdar was at that age), but Ganodi seems a sweet girl how need a little push to trust herself and Kit Fisto could absolutely help with that.

That's all I have considering what I know about the characters in cannon, but in my head cannons Ganodi would grow to be quite a fighter and would also benefit from Kit Fisto's lightsaber's abilities. I also find a bit funny the idea that all Kit Fisto's Padawans came from water worlds (Rodians came from a swamp so I'm assuming they can at the very least spend long periods under water)

This is too big already so I going to make a Part II covering Bith, Petro and some other force sensitive children we see in Star Wars but never got a master.

[b4b3tte]

꒰ ⊹ ˚ Summary —some detailed head-canons of dating Kano!!

Pairing — Kano!MK11 x GN!Reader

Includes of — Dating, Relationships, Affection, communication and all that jazz

Babettes note — GIRL BYE dude the whole MK game has had a chokehold on me so I’ve been obsessed with the lore & the characters so I’d figured I’d write something for one of my favorites!! Sorry if some of these things seem inaccurate I’m still learning about the lore so BARE WITH ME😭 anyways enjoy! Besitos💋!

Dating Kano is a rollercoaster no doubt, and you as a person have to be a rollercoaster if you are interested in him romantically so His unpredictable and often mischievous personality keeps you on your toes and maybe either make you happy with his decisions or absolutely pissed, but it's also what makes your relationship exciting. You've learned to adapt to his quirks, and it's taught you to be flexible and patient.

Kano's sarcastic and twisted sense of humor often leads to playful banter between you two. You share a unique connection where you can exchange snarky comments, even in the most dire situations. Your relationship is built on a foundation of teasing and laughter, a coping mechanism in the chaos of the Mortal Kombat world.

Despite his rough exterior, Kano is fiercely protective of you. Not necessarily in the way he will lock you up and keep you away from others but he definitely has the average jealous and possessive type issues, He might not admit it openly, but he'll go to great lengths to ensure your safety and make sure your only his. It's not uncommon for him to step in when you're facing danger, and his actions speak louder than his words.

Kano might be an asshole or seem heartless but he isn’t entirely cold, for him to even take you into consideration for a romantic relationship genuinely takes a-lot, so You're one of the few people if not only one who gets to see Kano's vulnerable side or see him acting like “ a pussy “ is what he calls but at the end you and him know you’ll won’t judge. It takes probably awhile but at the end He confides in you and trusts you with his secrets and things he has done that he isn’t too fond of, creating a process of making a deep connection between you two.

Your love story is far from conventional. Kano's connections to the Black Dragon and the chaos of the Mortal Kombat world make for a unique, twisted romance. The unpredictability of your life together has its own kind of allure, and you've embraced it with open arms. But Since you two have different “ jobs “ and come from different backgrounds, having the rumor going around that Kano is dating someone will be a shocker and matter of fact controversial and not safe especially knowing that you can be used against him within the whole MK war to gain information, or simply have him join the good side

You've learned to balance your relationship with Kano with your own principles and sense of right and wrong. It's a constant struggle, but your love for him keeps you going. You're often torn between your loyalty to the forces of good and your affection for a man deeply entrenched in the world of crime and chaos. If you are or were on the good side for the beginning and slowly started developing feelings you definitely had a break down on everything you believed on and what was right and wrong, it took Kano to convince you it’d be okay, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than you since he was in the similar situation

When you're with Kano, even simple dates turn into adventures. Whether it's a night at the underground fight club or a spontaneous getaway to some far-off, exotic location, you're always in for a wild ride. Your relationship is anything but ordinary, but hey who said what was a bad thing!

There are times when Kano's teasing and selfishness hurt you. He has a way of pushing your buttons, and you've developed a thick skin as a result. Him being a tease and finding a joke out of everything sometimes he unintentionally treats you like a child and likes to think you need him usually because it’s an ego boost and or he likes your reaction and frustration But you can also give as good as you get, and your dynamic is one of mutual understanding and resilience.

To keep your romance hidden from prying eyes, you and Kano have developed an intricate system of secret codes and signals. It's not only a practical way to communicate discreetly but also a fun and bonding aspect of your relationship.

( here is if you are involved with the mk war)

While you may be on opposite sides of the conflict, you occasionally find ways to collaborate on missions or objectives. These joint adventures are exhilarating and serve as a testament to your unique partnership. Sometimes when you encounter each other on a mission you have to use signals or any secret communication when you're working together to draw the least attention but when you guys are alone during a mission you guys usually share a quick kiss or make out session of 5 minutes before some one comes looking for you or for him there is just a surprising synergy that keeps your connection alive during work

despite the whole dating thing it’s like flirting is his love language, even infront of others he will always refer you as “ Baby “ , “ Sweetheart “ , Sugar “ , “ Peach “ and “ babe “ and no one really pays any focus on it because that’s just how Kano naturally is, speaking of affection, he definitely is more on the sexual side like groping, ass grabbing, intense kissing, hands on waist and hips, it’s usually rare to have a soft and cuddly moment with him

You and Kano have become skilled at resolving conflicts. Your disagreements may be passionate, but they're never detrimental to your relationship. You've learned the art of compromise and finding common ground, even when your loyalties pull you in different directions.

You both secretly share aspirations for a peaceful future. It might seem like an impossible dream given your circumstances, but you cling to the hope that one day you'll find a way to be together openly without fear of reprisal. These dreams are the driving force that keeps you both going.

In the most unexpected moments, you and Kano steal kisses, hidden from prying eyes. These fleeting, affectionate moments remind you of the love that binds you and offer a sense of normalcy in an otherwise tumultuous relationship.

You've come to realize that you can influence Kano in subtle ways. Through your actions and your own moral compass, you've introduced him to acts of kindness and empathy. You've shown him that there's more to life than just crime and chaos. Sometimes you like to believe These teachable moments may transform him over time.

Both of you have managed to maintain friendships with individuals from opposite factions. While these friends may not be aware of your relationship, they serve as connections to the other side of the Mortal Kombat conflict. These connections help you navigate the complex world you live in.

Your relationship with Kano is a complex, multifaceted journey filled with passion, secrecy, and hope. It's an unconventional story that defies the odds and tests the limits of your commitment to each other.

Deep down, you believe in Kano's capacity for change. You hope that your love can inspire him to make better choices and leave his life of crime behind. You're a source of hope and optimism in his life, a guiding light in the darkness he's often surrounded by.

Thanks for reading!! Feedback and requests are very much appreciated!! ❤️

[mrs-g0th1ka]

Dear Reader (Zodiac addition)

✮⋆˙ Hellooo!!! My cute little🦇 bats🦇 ~ I want to try something new. I will be giving a message to each sign that I think best suits them. This will all be in light fun, let's get into it ✮⋆˙

Please remember: What I say may or may NOT apply. Please take what resonates and leave what does not. Thank you♡

࿓࿓༄༄࿓࿓༄༄࿓࿓༄༄࿓࿓༄༄࿓࿓༄༄࿓࿓࿓

Air Signsᯓ★

Libra ⚖

Dear Libras, you have a heart of gold. Sometimes, it gets in your way of growing simply because you see the greater good in most situations. It's okay to let go of what you've outgrown, people, places, and emotions. It's not selfish to think about YOU. At the end of the day, you still matter.

Gemini 𐦍

Dear Gems, you simply are gems. You are so insightful and smart that your minds are constantly on the go. You have big thoughts, and you love to share them. Sadly, this will have people trying to shut you down or out. Stay away from those people. Lean closer to the people who like to teach as well. Be teachable, Gemini. You love to be teachers, but you struggle with being the student (at times).

Aquarius ≈

Dear Aquas, people are going to judge us no matter what. We will always be seen as the black sheep, the weird one, the nerdy one, the socially awkward one, the rebellious one, the cold one, the shy one, the bossy one, the emotionally distant one, Etc. The point is that we are simply all of those things in one body, and that's okay. Being different is okay. Don't be so hard on yourself when others can't see the same vision you see. Just put your actions in motion.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆟

Water signs ⋆｡𖦹°‧🫧

Cancer ☽

Dear cancers, Please remember that happiness is not a magical destination. You can arrive and end. No emotion exists in one solid place, and no person can stay in the same position forever. With that being said, you mustn't give up hope. You shouldn't stop reaching for joy, but if it leaves, don't convince yourself that it's due to your actions. Life is fickle - you can't change that.

Pisces 𓆛

Dear Pisces, Life is too short to wait around for the right moment. Let now be the time when you jump into new projects headfirst. This is the time to start a hobby or fresh routine and attempt confidence in your work and home life. There are plenty of opportunities for happiness awaiting you. All you have to do is reach out and grab them.

Scorpio ☠︎︎

Dear Scorpios, there's no need to rush. You will have time to do everything you want to do, and if you try to fast forward through the mundane, it will only lead to mistakes. It's a tired phrase, but "Quality over quantity" is something to keep in mind. Focus on each to -do list with patience and care. I promise it won't be like this forever.

♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨♨

Fire Signs ☄

Leo 𓃬

Dear Leos, the world outside of your windows and walls have been calling to you. It's easy to get caught up in the non -tangible- digital media and relationships and ghost that haunt your subconscious. But there's a natural reset button only steps away. Try to spend more time in nature, and employ your senses and breath in this planet. Your problems will grow smaller in its wake.

Sagittarius જ⁀➴

Dear Sagittarius, You don't need to worry about how others perceive you. It is only the people you choose to cherish that really matter. Your attention tends to linger on the negative. This will result in little room for your heart to bloom. You will be happier and more content if you stop looking for the approval of strangers and begin nurturing compassion for your loved ones.

Aries 𓄃

Dear Aries, When people give you advice, please listen. I know this is a weird piece of advice to receive —"Listen to advice"— but we both know you often disregard others' thoughts when you feel you know better. Hear what your loved ones have to say when you seek them out to vent. They just might have the solution you need.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.

Earth Signs°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Capricorn 𓃶

Dear Capricorn, Alone time is more valuable than you realize. Lately, you've found yourself buried in a lot of social activities. You'll be required to put energy into pleasing others, leaving less room for your own self. Make a point to prioritize yourself, even when you're tired and especially when it's hard. Otherwise, you'd be headed towards burnout.

Taurus 𓃾

Dear Taurus, though I know you love the light of a good fire, it's time to stop burning bridges every time things fall apart. You never know when you'll need to reignite a relationship, that professional, personal, or otherwise. Taurus, it's possible to forgive and let go quietly. Your default reaction to interpersonal strife shouldn't be to cut people off completely. You can't live like that.

Virgo ❀

Dear virgos, you must be clear and concise with the people in your life. If you have any issues that need adressing, make sure to state them as clearly as possible . Misunderstanding is inevitable; meanings often become confused in the maze of language,but now more than ever, you must be direct if you want to avoid negative ramifications.

Thank you so much for reading my zodiac yap session!!! This was so fun to do and I hope you guys really enjoyed it, until next time -Gothica♡