#the epitome of their relationship /hj

[friendlyneighborhoodamara]

One of the funniest things about enemies-to-lovers ships is how they’re almost always obsessed with each other. Like if a character actively chooses to interact with another character over and over again instead of simply ignoring them? Throw darts at it all you want, but you still printed out a picture of them to hang on your wall

[minkieater]

tide | khj

pairing. rich!hj x f!reader genre. non idol au, toxic relationship, soulmates warnings. substances, consumption, mental health, sexual content minors dni PLS wc. 5.5k

♫ — the broken one, qm ft. jiung “when you said that you wish the two of us could die together, i just pat your head and say i know.”

the best way you’d ever described your relationship is adjacent to a children’s movie, and for that comparison you feel wrong, but nothing else comes close. when alice fell down that hole and her entire world flipped upside down, changing everything she once thought she knew, it was the epitome of years of your life spent with him. you being alice, hongjoong being… everyone else. the mad hatter, cheshire cat, the red queen, white queen, the jabberwocky, the rabbit, he was everyone, all the time, all at once. your life, the riddles, everything but nothing making sense at the same time. there was nothing else you could possibly compare it to, two emotionally adolescent humans in adult bodies. 

neither of you had ever been angry people by nature. in fact, you had always been deemed quite the opposite. hongjoong, older and successful, a man consumed by his work but always made time for the people around him — he shows up for birthdays, impromptu get togethers, graduations, backyard parties… despite his ever growing workload, he always put in the effort to be there. and not just be present, either. he’s always been observant, even in the beginning, showing up when you least expected it. after the longest, hardest day, with flowers and your favorite food in tow, he’s always been a true partner. 

you’re not much different. the parties hongjoong always shows up to typically had you behind the curtain. planning, decorating, even picking up the tab… you’re the epitome of loyalty. devotion, creativity, passion. you’d bettered him as a person, in his work, in his relationships, in his productivity. you love to help and you love to love, you surround yourself with people who give that back to you tenfold in a heartbeat. 

in the beginning, you thrived. you worked together harmoniously, you were patient with each other, compassionate, so stupidly in love…

“would you marry me?” a starless night, on the rooftop of his ever luxurious loft. his hair is black, a cigarette between his lips, his sweet chocolate eyes the brightest light amongst the dark, empty air. 

you knew you had never answered any question with such a quickness as you did that one. you don’t think you’d even muttered the word no to him in the six months you’ve been together. 

he handed you the cigarette he knew you were craving, a habit you picked up from him and him alone. one habit you didn’t share before you’d met. his stare is intense, the gleam in his eyes is bold, it’s saying a million words yet not one leaves his rose colored lips. words you know, words you’ve said, words he hasn’t returned. but he does, he will, eventually. 

“we’re forever then,” it could be a question but it feels more like a statement, an announcement of sorts, a promise that you could never break. you had no choice in the matter, not that you needed one, not that you could imagine a life without him after so little time of knowing him. 

it made you smile through the burn in the back of your throat, a long exhale leaving your lips, gray smoke following suit. in went your solitude, out came the pact you made with him under the moonlight. like the smoke, it faded into thin air, never to be taken back. 

“we became forever six months ago,” you handed the cigarette back to him, your fingers touching for a just a moment in passing. his smile reached his eyes, creases in his skin that you would run your fingers over in the dim light of his bedroom. every inch of him, burned to memory. 

“we became forever the day you were born, doll. just took until six months ago to find me,” the tobacco was between his lips again, wrapped around the circular stick, always glossy. never chapped, never dry, always swollen and sultry. edible. 

time went on, days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years. you initially thought hongjoong didn’t have a bad side, eternally a happy and exemplary lover. to be fair, you didn’t think you had one either. there’s a saying for that, right? you bring out the worst in each other? but they’re traits that are embedded in you. when the stars aligned the day you were born, you were gifted them, wrapped in sparkling wine colored paper and you just didn’t get around to opening them until someone fought fire with fire. 

you’d never yelled at a friend, let alone a lover, in your life. he’d never once been angry enough to remove himself from an entire room, have to excuse himself from the woman across from him because her voice took up too much space, smothered him in his own home. the one thing that kept you two linked, from the bedroom with the door locked to the couch all the way out in the living room, was how fucking obsessed with the other you were. 

it was sick, the heaviest sensation the two of you shared. lust, love, adoration, codependency, everything came right under obsession if you could even rank your feelings. most days, everything just blended together, anyways. from the moment your eyes met, really met for the first time, it was cataclysmic, the soul you knew just by his gaze that you shared. the click that linked the two of you for life. 

the air of the club was humid, wet and murky, too many people in too small of a space. you were at a sponsored event for work, dressed too classy for the place you were at, all the bodies around you covered in way less fabric. you were one track minded when it came to work — always looking upward, fighting to climb endless ranks, you could never rest. never break concentration. 

until the biggest distraction stared at you three people down, stood around the curve of the bar while you waited on your cocktail. he moved with a fluidity similar to water, a wave, an ocean as he waltzed into your space. behind you, he slipped his card down over your shoulder onto your tab before you could even reach for the cash in your purse.  

“nice play,” you glanced over your shoulder, greeted with teeth as white as snow, glistening hues of pink and blue from the dance floor cascading over the impressive structure of his face, “thank you.”

“a pretty drink for a pretty girl,” you glance down at the red cherries sitting in your cocktail, a mixture of yellow and orange sitting in your glass, mimicking a sunrise swirling around the cubes of ice.

a laugh escaped you, “i’d rate that pick up line a 7, i suppose.” 

he answers with a shrug, “anything above a 5 is a win for me. hongjoong,” his hand reaches out to shake yours and you’re taken aback, almost shocked at the gesture of a simple handshake around the bar at a more than busy nightclub. it told you more than it should, coming up on years of business under your belt, it seemed more like a proposition than an introduction. 

in that moment you saw him, you saw through him, you saw deep down inside and you couldn’t crawl your way out if you scratched and clawed your nails down to stubs. he was like you, apart of your world, higher up, even. he came from class, he came from money, he came from importance. he’s handsome, he’s gorgeous, and jesus christ he’s going to ruin your fucking life if you let him. you’d let him do anything.

your work event was long forgotten the second the two of you made eye contact, your attendance was the only thing mandatory, anyhow. a night of freedom, letting go of subjugation from your company as you spent ages with your back pressed to his front, bodies moving as one to the beat of whatever song played through the speakers. one melody after another, you don’t know how many songs have passed before you've faced him, hands around his neck, one of his legs between yours.

“you’re beautiful,” he says, noses nearly touching, wanting to curse the millimeter standing between himself and the rest of his life. a moment of pressure from you stood over his knee and he decided he’d never needed something so bad, his stomach growling with a hunger he was saving for a single taste of you. 

“yeah?” your smile turned mischievous, a dangerous game you were playing, he’d strip you down in front of the entire club, fuck you in front of every man in the building. that’s if he could live with himself letting anyone besides him see you like that, which he couldn’t, of course. your outfit left too much to the imagination, tight dress pants and a white top that clung to every inch of you. he needed to know what was underneath. he could imagine, picture you beneath the cotton, he could almost feel the soft plush of your thighs on his fingertips. 

“prove it,” was all you said and it sold him of the only thing he had left. his pride, the thing he savored, he’d usually let anyone else take the reins with him, want him first, so he could drop them without a second thought. you wanted me, i never wanted you. always the predator, never the prey, even under the gaze of his evermore. 

anyone that came before you, the several exes, plethora of playthings, he’d easily forget them, leave them all behind for a night with you. he wouldn’t settle for just a night with you, he won’t take anything less than eternity. your thin, tiny square lenses sitting low on your nose, your hair messily wrapped up on top of your head, lipstick still perfectly applied on your lips, the way you were so meticulously put together… it was a primal urge, the need to ruin it, ruin you, keep you forever, just for himself. 

you weren’t doing far off, core aching for a kiss, a touch, anything to take the edge off. something about sharing a soul meant you could see his and it stood tall and red and rippled in the wind and screamed at you to let him make the first move. he needed to lay his cards on the table, make his blood stained soul turn white, let him give himself to you before you gave yourself to him. you listened, as much as it wounded you, his glossy lips begging you to close the distance, to taste him, to hurry up and move on with eternity because time waits for no one. 

you could see his internal battle, there were several going on in the mere moment that lasted for hours. the battle of your beings, still separated not yet merged, yet still transparent for the other to see. the battle of him with himself, his pride, his masculinity, this routine he’s been performing for the past six years. your battle with him, begging him to give into you, to show you what he’s made of, to show you what color he bleeds. your battle with yourself, your self control to listen to whatever is telling you to let him give in first. you knew he would, he knew he would, it was a waiting game. 

once he said fuck it and he raised his white flag, his soul changed color as his lips tasted yours. one kiss in the middle of a crowded dance floor, overflowed enough that other people’s sweat was mixing with your own, music pumping through your veins, the world had shifted. tectonic plates couldn’t compare, couldn’t move you the way hongjoong did in that very moment. 

this combining, this merging, this tasting of his soul, the atoms that make up his very being, you consumed it all entirely. the good, the bad, the complicated, the opulent, the rough, the agonizing, you could feel all of it in him. you needed more. 

it wasn’t always like that, wasn’t always intoxicating, blinding, all consuming. the obsession was beautiful, addicting, similar to the box of tobacco you now kept in your back pocket. it translated to tenderness, intimacy, warmth, it was one of a kind. one that sparked jealousy from others, one that closed its doors on anyone who dared to peer inside. it was personal, only to be enjoyed by the two of you, never shared. no one on this fucking earth could understand you the way hongjoong could, no one could read your mind, fix what needed to be fixed before it was even broken in the first place. he was a lifeline, a savior, a backbone for you. and you were all the same to him. 

he’d never thought he could love anything the way he loves you. his music, his art, his life, he’d throw everything away if that meant one more second spent with you. you were water to him the way he was air to you, the sun to him the way he was the moon to you. in every single lifetime you know hongjoong has been your missing link, two fucked up pieces that finally finished the puzzle. when put together, everything made sense. you were complete. 

“mm, maybe a half an hour longer?” his smile is sheepish, almost embarrassed to say the same answer he’d given you thirty minutes prior. 

a knowing smile grows on your face, how could you be mad at him? your hard working boyfriend, forever sitting behind a screen, making deadlines meet. when he said half an hour, he meant two hours. when he said twenty minutes, he meant an hour. his language is exclusive to only him, it takes someone who really knows him, really understands him for his dialect to be construed.  

you went to bed, surrounded by white walls with monochromatic paintings that didn’t have any real meaning. the room was big, too big to be comforting. too empty to be lived in, especially without him beside you. it’s how the whole loft felt: picturesque, a movie set, a bed, bathroom and kitchen without being a home. you could have a photoshoot here anytime with the natural light pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows, but could you raise a family? could you settle here, in this city?

you kept your eyes closed, searching for sleep that didn’t want to be found. pulling the comforter over you, you nuzzled in, cocooned yourself into the mongolian cashmere that threatened you with its heat. 

“going to sleep this early? that’s no fun,” you heard his voice before the patter of his familiar footsteps, a rhythm you’d memorized months ago. he climbs into the california king, searching for you, finding you, kissing you. “what’s got you wrapped up like this? missed me?” 

you nodded, bottom lip jutting out, feeling so small even with him here, this huge bed engulfing you. you needed his heat, his touch, his skin on yours, you wanted comfort. 

“my girl,” he cooed, fingers running through your hair, messily sprawled across the silk pillowcase, “i missed you too.” 

kisses that were peppered along your jaw turned heated before you could notice his mood had changed. as his tongue licked up the base of your neck you whined, pressing yourself into him, mindlessly begging for more. 

“needy girl,” he teased as he pulled the blankets off of you, mongolian cashmere be damned. you wore one of his shirts, oversized enough to be a dress. he pushed it up past your stomach, pleasantly surprised with the lack of anything underneath. 

“ah, my needy girl is clever, hm? planned this, did you?” his smirk stretched across his face, eyes deepening to the richest, darkest brown, reflecting the ecuadorian chocolates he bought you months ago, a gift on a random thursday. 

“and what if i did?” you’d been pleading for him to come to bed for ages, begging him to fill more space in this empty room. you’d been prepared to try anything, stopped only by his mask of concentration. 

“then you’re in luck,” before you knew it he’d already slipped inside you, your back arching against the texture of the percale sheets beneath you. he’d wrecked you, as he did every time, swapping spit and cum and secrets, exposing skin and feelings and truths. 

every time the sex was this sweet, this melodious, he’d tell you exactly how he felt about you. he’d make you feel it. 

“fuck, i fucking love you,” he was buried to the hilt, holding your face between two cold hands, “could die right here inside you a happy man.” 

you couldn’t do anything but moan, clenching around him, your coming answer enough. 

“want me to fill you up?” he’d asked, thrusts turning rougher, more sporadic, the finish line nearing, “yeah? give you my kids? make you a mommy?” 

you locked your ankles behind his back, this wasn’t the first time you’d done this. an iud sat inside you, still working perfectly fine, his proposal wouldn’t come to fruition with you like this. you still nod, whimpers leaving your throat, low babbles of begs for him to fill you. 

he always did, always carried you to the bath after, always washed your hair, your body, maybe filled you up once more if you felt like it. 

“do you want to stay here? in this city?” the bath had run lukewarm at this point, but you didn’t want to separate, didn’t want to spend a moment not pressed against one another. 

“for now, i think so, why?” his hand was traveling up and down your arm that hung outside the tub, your head laid against his chest. 

“when we have kids… i don’t know about raising them here,” your voice was small, unsure of where his mind would go with your sudden revelation. 

“we have a long way to go before then,” he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. you stayed quiet, fingertips inaudibly tapping the side of the tub. 

“this been bothering you?” his other hand moves to grip your jaw, a light touch to twist your head, making you look up at him. 

“i wouldn’t say it’s bothering me, but anything can happen, i was just thinking about it,” even the bathroom is too big, too lifeless to be a home. marble tile, his and hers vanities, a detached, massive shower, a bidet on the toilet. you couldn’t picture smaller you’s running around in here. 

“we’re already playing with fire, i guess,” he leans his head back on the tub, “where do you dream of going? if i could build a house from the ground up for you, where? what would it look like?”

like a scene from the notebook, your heart twisted, bursting at the seams with the unbelievable amount of what you felt for him. so you told him, a rancher, a farm, somewhere quiet and peaceful. a house that felt lived in, one appropriate to raise a family, one that wasn’t perfectly dusted and organized all the time. picture frames littering shelves, toys randomly left across the house, clothes on the floor of the bedroom. you wanted normalcy, you wanted warmth, you wanted a family. 

he wanted nothing more than to give you that. within two weeks he’d been in contact with several realtors, purchasing land on the countryside, finding the perfect plot for you two to raise your little family. he’d pictured you in a pair of boots, a tee shirt, an old, big pair of overalls. your stomach swollen, hair messily wrapped up, walking in the barn, feeding the chickens. his heart warmed, and his dick so quickly rose again, twitching behind your back. 

how a love so beautiful, so unique could get so fucked up, you couldn’t understand, not even three years later. you didn’t want to understand, though, and neither did he. you don’t care, neither of you do, because the only thing that matters is that he is still near you. close to you. breathing your air, touching your skin, whispering the most vile shit into your ear, he is here. you needed him closer, needed him so close that you merged into one. it’s never enough, it’ll never be enough, more of him, always more of him, always more of you. 

he felt the same way. your breath on his skin, your saliva drying on his neck, he wanted more. he wanted it messier, he wanted it sloppier. he wanted it to never end. but the two of you will never end because you’re meant for each other, right? there’s no one else on this planet for him, billions of people and he’s found his other half already. she’s under him, she’s breathing, she’s screaming, she’s beautiful. he’s so lucky. 

which is why it makes sense to no one that they don’t see either of you anymore. usually one of you, here and there, never together. never holding hands, never smiling at each other, never touching the other one’s hair, never fixing the other one a plate. never together, but yet rarely apart. as far as everyone knows, you’re still together, they think? you are, you tell them that you are, hongjoong tells them that you are, but poor yeosang can’t understand why he doesn’t see his friends anymore. he misses their smiles, their laughs, their humor, their parties, their love. you miss it too, sometimes. 

the truth is, your shared codependency turned into some warped fucking version of destruction where neither of you can stand to see other next to someone else. at clubs, at bars, at those backyard parties with your friends, god forbid you get too close to san. you swear to that same god if hongjoong spoke three more words to mina he’d be sleeping on the couch for weeks. everyone noticed, everyone could pick up on it easily. the side eye, outright glares across the room, hongjoong’s hand around your wrist like a pair of handcuffs. you couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at your friend’s glances, their eyebrows furrowing in confusion, their questions that sat heavy in thin air without ever being spoken. you were too worried about what hongjoong was thinking. how angry he’d be, what it’d be like when you got home, if he’d even say a word to you the rest of the night. hongjoong was already cooking up his testimony, ready to tell you to stop being fucking insane and our friends are just friends, yet the double standard was always there. you’d use the same arguments against each other, have the same rebuttals. it got you nowhere, there was no resolution, there was just his california king and percale sheets. the cashmere blanket that laid over every argument, tucking it away tightly until the next time you unveiled it. 

as much as your love fucked you up, made your brain not fucking work correctly, you couldn’t bear to think of a day where you’d be apart. couldn’t imagine your future not spent in that rancher on the countryside, children and chickens running amok. 

when he told you his job was relocating him to the states, yet another huge city, you couldn’t breathe. for a full minute you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t answer him, you couldn’t function. your lifeline, your savior, your water, your moon, leaving you. 

“i’ll start looking for a place for us,” he said so casually, too casually, scrolling on his phone, not even looking at you. the breath was sucked from your lungs, you wouldn’t be surprised if your face was blue.

“no, i won’t go,” you murmured out, clearly, unlike the stumbling of words in your mind, hot tears in your eyes and strain on your voice. you sat up in the california king, goosebumps raising on your bare body in the too cold bedroom. 

“huh?” he finally tore his eyes from the screen, “what do you mean no?” 

“i won’t fucking go, joong! you’re asking me to pick up my life and move to another country for your stupid job?” anger flushed through your veins, your voice raised, fire in your eyes. you turned to him in the bed, not even bothering to cover yourself with the sheets. 

“my stupid job? my stupid job that pays for this place? pays the bills?” he sat up too quickly, his eyes were wide and oh boy was he angry, you hit a nerve there. 

“i can pay the bills just as easily as you and you know that, hongjoong,” you bark back, tears close to boiling as they stream down your face, “i can’t leave my life. my career, my stability, my future, what the fuck did you think i was going to say? huh? yeah sure! let’s move out of the country! are you out of your goddamn mind?” 

“your future? what the fuck am i then? just a placeholder for now?” he’s laughing with wide eyes and oh fuck it’s maniacal, ring covered fingers tugging at his white blonde roots. “i fucking knew it. you never planned a real future with me then, did you? all that talk about getting married, having kids, all of it just a fucking lie? a sick little joke to keep me with you, paying the rent? funding your little shopping sprees?” 

“fuck you, hongjoong, you fucking know that’s not true,” you’re sobbing now, his words hitting their mark. you stood up and walked out to the living room, pulling the white, soft blanket with you. 

your dream, your future, your life, crumbling around you. hongjoong was air to you, your moon, controlling the tide that pushed and pulled you closer or farther away from one another. 

you’d never been dependent on anyone before him, never needed a moon to your sun, you shone brightly all by yourself at all times. even now, with him, you could easily survive without him. financially, at least. even in this big, lifeless loft you could support yourself, you were just as successful as he was, after all. but emotionally? actually living a life that he wasn’t involved in? you don’t think you’d survive it. 

you could leave here, move with him, restart your life somewhere else. you wanted to do that, but in the countryside, this situation is completely different. this isn’t a choice. this is someone else making a decision and everyone expecting you to follow suit. what about what you needed? what about your job, that you adore? spent years climbing to where you are, you now have an entire team working under you. what about that team? your coworkers? your family, living close by? your friends, oh god your friends, ones you haven’t seen in an embarrassing amount of time… only months past twenty six, you could technically restart if you needed to. you just don’t want to. you needed hongjoong to not want to, either. 

a moment barely passed before he’s beside you on the couch, tears pouring down your cheeks, face buried in the crook of his neck. he’s rubbing your back, kissing your head, whispering sweet nothings that’d always calm you when you broke down like this. he knows how to fix you, always stitching back together what he tore apart.

two months later, and you didn’t end up on that plane beside him. he had you really convinced, though, in the same way you convinced yourself: you’d leave your job, find one similar to yours in LA, climb the ranks, and be as successful as you are here, but there. you’d be just as devoted, passionate, happy. 

ultimately, he thought he knew best, like he always does. he thinks he knows you better than you know yourself, sometimes. he knows you love your job, love your team, your coworkers, you love your position. you spent ages crawling your way up there. you love your friends, your family, you couldn’t leave them behind and still be happy. you’re a loyal woman in every aspect of your life, with your lover, your friends, your career. every small string is attached to what makes you, you. he knows you’d never be as happy as you are in this city, but he also knows you’d never let him go without you. so he left without a goodbye, without a parting gift, a farewell kiss, a last departing whisper of an i love you. 

he left you alone, broken, empty. 

a shell of who you once were. 

what he didn’t take into consideration is that you love him more than anything, anyone. you were inconsolable. your friends didn’t know what to do with you. they wondered why you weren’t at hongjoong’s going away party, why they haven’t heard from you, they didn’t know everything he did was in secret. how word didn’t get passed around to you, you didn’t know, you were still furious about it. they didn’t know how to help you, they couldn’t even start to make sense of why your boyfriend of years would leave you without a second word. neither could you. they couldn’t wrap their minds around how you didn’t know he was leaving. neither could you. 

that one long day you spent at work, coming home to a cold, massive, empty fucking apartment. not a trace of him, not one small sign that he ever lived there in the first place. he took all his clothes with him, all of his equipment for work, even his little trinkets… all gone. disappeared into thin air. how could you not fucking know? 

you took almost a week off from work. something you rarely did, you felt like you couldn’t catch up, couldn’t manage your insanely busy schedule if you did take some personal time. but this was different. it wasn’t a week spent relaxing somewhere warm, it wasn’t a vacation, it wasn’t happy at all. you thought you felt your world crumble around you when he first broke the news, this was the real thing. this was the past three years of your life that had been devoted to one singe person, the person that mattered most, the person that you’d cross oceans and go to war for and he plucked himself directly from your life. 

mina, yuna, yeosang, mingi… they were at your apartment around the fucking clock. they didn’t leave you alone, it was suffocating. you hadn’t left your bed for days, you weren’t eating, you weren’t drinking, you were too busy staring at the space above your dresser where a picture of the two of you once lived. 

he didn’t call. in the year you spent apart, while you built yourself again piece by piece, rewiring your very brain chemistry, he didn’t call you. he blocked your number, blocked your social medias, blocked your family. you went through every outlet at first, every friend you shared, trying again and again, begging for just a conversation with him. never once did you get through, never once did you hear how he was, how the states are different from here, how he’s been eating, who he’s been with… god, who has he been with? he’s yours, no one else’s.

you lost weight, you lost sleep, you lost your drive, you lost yourself, fifty percent of you. your soul was somewhere so far you couldn’t feel it, couldn’t access it, in an entirely different fucking country, tens of thousands of miles away from you. bottles of liquor now sat in your pantry, cartons of cigarettes sprawled across the kitchen table, every hour of your free time spent in solitude, months upon months of you driving yourself mad. 

you thought your bedroom felt empty before, unwelcoming, frigid, dispiriting, you couldn’t imagine being there without him, yet now you couldn’t bring yourself to go elsewhere. you took it for granted, having him here, you felt guilty for even thinking that you’d be happier somewhere else when you had the only thing you’ve ever needed in your possession. 

but a year later, he stood on your doorstep, a doorstep you once shared. a doorstep that has seen you pressed up against the frame with his hand inside your skirt, a doorstep that’s listened to your meaningless arguments on your way home from an event, a doorstep that’s watched as you bid visitors goodbye. he’s there, he’s breathing, he’s living, he’s close to you. not close enough. 

the earth had turned gray, the sunniest of days couldn’t make the city look saturated in the year you spent apart. all the usual too loud noise had turned to whispers, all the business couldn’t inflict an ounce of motivation in you. within seconds of seeing his face everything was colorful, the city had sound again, it was if someone flicked a switch sewn into your back. 

“you’re a real piece of shit,” you bark out, opting to shut the door in his face. his foot slides between the door and the frame, his hand lurching forward to hold it open. 

“i’m here,” is all he says, and you pause, looking up to him. he is here, and he’s real, and you can’t stop the tears from forming. 

hi friends! first post of my work on here <3 i have not posted any of my writing since i was probably 16... pls be nice to me

massive shoutout to @chimivx, thank you for getting me back into it and giving me the courage to post :,) love u forever

anyways i love hongjoong hope u enjoyed xoxo

love, t ｡ ★ • *

[seelestia]

OMG THE NEW NAVIA THEME IS SO CUTE??? i think it's safe to say that you definitely cooked, lia hehe >:3 /lh /gen

anyways! that's pretty much what it is when it comes to college and frankly? i just wanna get it over with like literally the only highlight to it is seeing my friends and spending time with my boyfriend 😭 but!! a social science major sounds cool! i'd say you have some pretty good goals set in mind and you can always take up a minor if you want to pursue the others :> (i did consider having music as a minor) and sure! the courses depend on what you pick really and the college/professor, online is just about the same as in-person if you have a lot of reading on a pc to do tbh. english classes are well. kind of like the ones in high school but college-leveled. just make sure you give yourself enough time to do assignments bc they can be painful :"D

HELP LMAO??? okay that's true though, the fontaine quest definitely made a splash and we really had to dip our toes in the water with it huh? anyway thats kind of the thing, the only similarity between bedo and lyney is that they actively flirt with me in their own way, and its funny bc i usually try to find someone whose personality complements mine bc im generally the quieter one compared to both (ah yes a reality tv show for me HJEKAHD) also yea! i think both of them really do have traits that make them stand out and frankly i wish they got more screentime (also i have yet to watch the 4.6 trailer ehehe)

same here to you!! i'm always happy to rattle off of your hcs and i enjoy talking about our selfships as well hehe (*^ω^*) and i love it when bedo calls me his "sweet violet",,like the way he says it is just so endearing? like the pitch of his voice always becomes softer and more affectionate jsjdksndj (yk its funny, my boyfriend does the same thing with me bc his nicknames are unique to me as well)

also i'm throwing another ramble at ya: imagine wanderer or ayato surprising you with breakfast in bed HEHEHEHE

awh thats oki! like i said, i'm always happy to indulge your selfships since i enjoy hearing about them :> /gen. honestly i wouldn't be surprised if wanderer did knock you softly on the head for thinking the flowers were from yato ajjdkshd (nah just put the hairpin in before he gets a chance /hj /lh) also i forgot to tell u im a sucker for floriography so i methinks wanderer could give you camellias which represent everlasting love. the hairpin ayato gives you is unique in design and had it specially made for you alone :3

and i quote from my irl friend: "bouncing off the walls gf x completely stoic unmoving statue bf" HDJAKDHSJ NOT ONLY THAT SHE COMPARED HIM TO A PIECE OF FURNITURE BC OF HOW STIFF HE IS IN PICTURES (but hey i give him credit for a cute smile <3) and he is very much a pretty boy even though he tries to deny it until i accept that he calls me pretty too BUT YEA QUITE LITERALLY OPPOSITES ATTRACT anyway pretty much, not all relationships are like yk. sunshine and rainbows so thats why i feel very grateful to have a healthy one. if anything, we're just both trying to do our best to make one another happy but thankies hehe (also nw! i dont think u sound like a grandma, i just like hearing u ramble ehhehe)

also im not rlly sure why ppl think 20 is old either like dang, sure my back hurts on occasion but i'm not a fossil 😭

AHHH THANK U, VI!! so it seems you agree that i... baked? :3c /lh HAHAHA navia is so sweet and silly. i just have to make her my theme! (++ as a homage to her for carrying me in spiral abyss 🫣) since i do put in effort whenever i do theme changes, it makes me happy to know others like it <3

i'll have you know that i'm a true enabler of dad jokes & puns. throw 'em at me! which reminds me: how does albedo react to your jokes? for me, ayato just thinks it's funny that i find them funny (he pats me on the head afterwards - A+ for effort). wanderer is just the epitome of unimpressed and sometimes, he'd even pull on my cheek a little if the joke is extremely unfunny LOLLL. the only one who'd ever indulge me is mr. shikanoin heizou ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡) oh, woe is me!!! /lh

i see! ty for the perspective, vi <3 i'm gonna find it nostalgic to look back on this convo after i went to college. tho assignments really are a staple of uni life, huh? one of the times i thank highschool for instilling the habit of “work first, play later” in me. i imagine it's gonna be more painful however so i'll need to juggle rest & work 😭 hope you're holding up with yours!! <3

THAT'S CUTE!! i find it so funny that albedo himself is the paradigm for introverts but when it comes to flirting with people he finds intriguing, he's not here to play LMAO. how does he act 〜suave〜 so naturally?? smh i need those skills too /hj. lyney on the other hand... he takes it as an achievement if he manages to fluster you! the sleight of the hand is his bread & butter but he's good with his words just as well, no? voila! ✧ i am biting my fist UWAGHH. i am head over heels for the 'speaks to you / says your name in a softer voice' thingy but to witness it first-hand??? i'm so happy for you 🤭

WWHWHWHWH. ayato usually has the maids prepare our meals so he probably tells them to make it extra special. unfortunately, i'm more of a night owl than an early riser so by the time he brings the tray onto the bed, i'm just looking at him all groggy LOL. he thinks it's cute, taps my cheek and teasingly asks if this is all a ruse to get him to spoon feed me.... this man /aff. wanderer tho is a good cook so he does not play around with food or breakfast! but it's gonna take lots of coaxing to have breakfast in bed since “if it spills on the mattress, i'll demote you to the floor for a day.” i tell him about the existence of trays but he's still adamant. no fun 💔 /j

CAMELLIAS?! those happen to be one of my fav flowers!!! and the meaning too... i'm ahhdjwjejw /pos. he would tho!! wanderer canonically like wandering off in nature (oh, dearest sumeru), i think he picks flowers to bring back home. but sometimes, he'd rather observe them from afar: they're fleeting, after all. so he might as well leave them be to bloom to their fullest. yk.... i should buy some seeds these days and make a garden of our own. maybe it could be a surprise for him oooooo mhm mhm!! wbu?? does albedo or lyney indulge in making you breakfast in bed too hehe :3c (for lyney, i'm willing to bet lynette sponsored that breakfast /j)

NOT THE FURNITURE POSE HAHAA 😭

“smile!”

vi: 🌸🌷🎀🩷

bf: 🚪🚪🚪

/j but we appreciate the effort!!! i'm also not vv photogenic myself so i can relate badly with the furniture pose LMAO 😔 i prefer taking pictures of others instead! ayato is really photogenic. this is what happens when you deal with paparazzi /j & wanderer can be photogenic too but only in candid. he does not like staring at the camera. what a grumpy cat /aff +++ i saw the picrew you sent me! VI IT'S SO ADORBS AHHHH feel free to share more picrews of you & your f/o's anytime! i love love love them ☆૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა /gen !!!!

[lethargical-lily]

TWST Dorms Leaders X Male!EAHRaven!Yuu Head-canons

Sorry for lack of Leona and Azul. I really wanted to add them I just had writer’s block and wanted to get this out before I forgot. I’ll probably add them in a separate post another time

🌹Riddle Rosehearts🌹

In my opinion there’s nothing about you that would stick out to him immediately

Looks wise, you actually fit right in for the school of villains

It would be your kindness that he is drawn to

That and #mommyissues

You are both very damaged individuals who lack control in your lives due to mothers that cared more about your legacy than they did your happiness

But where Riddle craves control, you function generally well without it unless it has great affect on you

Your kind and selfless personality gives him hope he can eventually heal from the childhood he never got to have

He very much appreciates your patience and softness with him, especially in his times of need

You are very used to dealing with extreme personalities

I mean your best friend is the mad hatter’s kid and you attended the same school as the child of THE queen of hearts

Safe to day you know the ropes

When Riddle hears you’ve met the queen of hearts he’ll go FERAL

He’ll hide it of course but will ask tons of questions about her

You will likely discuss over a cup of tea

He gives Nevermore her own chair and teacup

Nevermore and the dormouse are unexpected besties

When you show him your wonderland fit he’d almost cry out of joy

This also makes him that much more upset you’re not in his dorm

You tell him you remind him of a friend of yours, Lizzie Hearts

He doesn’t know who that is but he’s happy he reminds you of someone close to you

🥳Kalim Al-Asim🥳

Met in pop music club

You start talking about each of your individual music tastes and show each other some songs

This encourages him to throw a party dedicated to said songs

He reminds you of Briar bless his heart

Because of his sort of happy go lucky nature you often find yourself being naturally protective of him or just ensuring he doesn’t die doing something dumb

Jamil is incredibly thankful for you

He’ll always compliment your style since it’s kind of the complete opposite of his

You offer to do some darker makeup on him

He can barely sit still with excitement

Refuses to take it off the whole day

He’ll find and give you gothic themed jewelry

You love having someone here who doesn’t care about your power or looks, just your personality

You take him on rides with Nevermore

He feeds Nevermore any of his leftovers so she likes him a lot

You two plus the rest of the pop music club started a band

This band got A LOT of attention

People are always gushing over you and Kalim’s relationship

🦚Vil Schoenheit🦚

He wants to meet your mom so bad

You are the only person he would praise so hard

Not even because of your mom, simply because of your strength and looking fabulous while doing it

You will do each other’s makeup all the time

Only person he trusts with picking out his clothes

You often teach him magic spells or powerful potions

He’s never simped more

He sympathizes with the history you have with your mother

That doesn’t stop him from praising her accomplishments but he keeps it strictly objective

You two bond over having a Snow White themed annoyance in your life

If music is something you want tu pursue in your life he’ll pull any strings he needs to make it happen

He likes Nevermore but more from a distance

She’s undeniably magnificent but he can’t let his clothes get wrinkled

If you tell him that you fought and defeated the Evil Queen

He just might bow at your feet/hj

No but seriously marry him

That’s so attractive

He doesn’t care that he’s in a dorm meant for honoring her you are the epitome of the Evil Queen’s image

But in a nice way

He’s aware you don’t plan on being unnecessarily evil

He’s so in love help him

👾Idia Shroud👾

Idia would remind you of Dexter

Shy but with a heart of gold

Well you assume he has a heart of gold

It’s kinda hard to get to know someone when they keep running from you

But after Idia has done enough running, it gives you the chance to finally strike up a normal conversation

They start off with music since you are quite the fan but slowly go into online forums and video games

Idia thinks you’re hella cool after this

Idia anxiously invites you to play a couple games with him sometime

It’s an enthusiastic yes from on your end

After teaching you the basics you get the hang pretty quickly and start dominating any game you two play

Idia feels you’re finally prepared for the big guns

Meaning shooter games and voice chat with depraved men who live in their momma’s basement😔✊/hj

Idia and you wipe the floor with your opponents

This is when Idia REALLY starts to notice his feelings for you

He will constantly gift you better and better tech to listen to or stream your music

Having a bf who can lift things with their mind is a huge W too

And speaking of magic he is absolutely FLOORED by your power

There are a lot more restrictions to power in his world but if your good enough to handle it, it’s almost like a free for all at EAH

ESPECIALLY IF YOU’RE ABLE TO DEFEAT ONE OF THE GREAT SEVEN

AND YOU HAVE A PET DRAGON

He will bow at your feet and always mumble about how OP you are much to your confusion

You still love him tho :D

Compliment him on his hair or gaming skills, he’ll blush like crazy if it’s coming from you

🐉Malleus Draconia🐉

Relates HEAVILY on what it feels like to be feared due to your ancestors or even just your looks

When you hear all the talk about him being “evil” n such that just makes you all the more determined to actually get to know him

One day you take up Lilia’s offer on approaching their table

You spend lunch with them for the day (Adeuce is horrified and Sebek is staring daggers)

Malleus is both intrigued by your world and boldness

You take any chance you can to sit next to him in classes and he gladly does the same

You introduce him to your music tastes

He doesn’t understand it but he’s trying

In exchange he info dumps about gargoyles to you

He’s ecstatic to have someone that will enthusiastically listen and ask questions

You will often dress him up in styles similar to what you would wear back at EAH

He will dress you up in traditional Briar Valley clothing

Is someone else who is heavily impressed by your magic

Like I said you would probably be one of the most powerful in Twisted Wonderland because of the freedom you have with your abilities

This kind of makes you two the scariest power couple at NRC

If you tell him you defeated one of the great seven he’ll just stare at you like 😀

Nevermore loves him and he spoils her with what he can

He will not hesitate to make you his king of the Valley of Thorns

[antiquepearlss]

Yesss omg historical au’s have my heart in a death grip <3

Eugene and Lance, obviously, would be bootleggers. I can see the Baron being similar to Al Capone and Eugene and Lance escaped his gang and now bootleg and steal on their own.

Quirin is a struggling farmer (farmers struggled a LOT after the Great War. The Great Depression started early for them) which could help contribute to his and Varian’s tense relationship. Varian is still an alchemist who wishes to go to school and study it, but alas he’s stuck at home due to a lack of funds and needing to help around the farm. The 1920’s were a time when science was beginning to be taken more seriously over religion (think Scopes Monkey Trial) so Varian would thrive in this era. He’s always trying to prove their merits of alchemy.

Speaking of The Great War, depending on how realistic you wanna make this, you could totally say Cap fought in wwi and Cass worked in factories to support the war effort.

Rapunzel after escaping the tower, totally embraces the flapper lifestyle. She’s peak flapper okay. Short hair, short dresses, dating, equal rights, I think the only thing she would be against is smoking because she thinks it smells bad. She is very independent, rebellious, seeks justice, and carefree. And she totally would love jazz.

(You could also make Cass a flapper because feminism, but keep in mind flappers were the epitome of rebellion and Cass is lawful good so I think she could go either way.)

Also Lance would embrace the Harlem Renaissance jazz scene. I don’t know how much you want to combine real history with this but New Orleans Lance is so fitting. This man is best friends with Cab Calloway.

Also Cass totally has a crush on Marlene Dietrich and Anna May Wong. Perhaps Monty owns a diner, and Xavier owns a factory. Varian loves cars and radio. (Hehe his favorite station has some weird host named Alastor)

Thanks for tagging me lol I live for this stuff. Can’t wait to see what you make and feel free to hmu for more ideas or help!

(Also- New Dream is so Great Gatsby coded. Gatsby- Eugene, Daisy- Rapunzel, Nick- Varian or Lance, Jordan- Cass Tom- Andrew /hj)

guys help me out I think I’m about to write a 20’s au for tts, what role does everyone have in society? Like, bootlegger, flapper, diner waitress, stuff like that

@antiquepearlss because it seems like something you might have opinions on

[vinyls-and-valentines]

can you elaborate on jet and cherri's relationship? (if you want to ofc!)

Jet and Cola essay time! /hj

TL;DR: They started as sort-of-siblings, but then drifted apart as Cherri began dropping by the station less often and becoming more and more self-destructive, which in turn started to affect Jet and everyone else living at the station.

Okay, so when Dr. D took Jet in he was like. 10 years old and had spent the previous 2 years mostly on his own waiting for his parents to come pick him up because they’d promised to do so, which Jet made sure to make a point of whenever someone asked. Thing is, it had been 2 years since that promise and draculoid activity had pretty much spread throughout the Zones indiscriminately, so chances of Jet’s parents not being dusted was...well, let’s just say it didn’t look good. Now, D never had the heart to say that- the old man’s a little soft like that and that’s perhaps one of his biggest downfalls- but he was pretty sure that if he didn’t do something this tumbleweed kid would be dead or worse by 16, which he couldn’t let happen either.

So, fast forward a few week later and WKIL had 4 members: The Doctor, Show Pony, Cherri Cola and Jet Star. To say Jet was particularly happy with the change would outright be a lie, but it was better than sleeping outside and he got along with the others well enough. Show Pony was nice, which is what most people will tell you about them when they first meet them, but they also knew how to tell Jet “no” alongside reasons that made sense, so while it did often sabotage his plans he couldn’t be too mad about it. Cherri Cola, on the other hand, almost never told him “no” and that’s exactly how they became close. Cherri would just drive him to wherever he needed to be drove to or take him along whenever they went around the Zones checking in on outposts and they’d have fun talking or running away from dracs and Spiders because by nature Cherri Cola is a little bit of an asshole.

That’s not to say Cherri took him everywhere- they weren’t the epitome of responsibility, sure, but they liked keeping him away from things they deemed 14+, so stuff like smoking, bars and clubs were a big no-go- and every so often he’d be left at the station with D or go out to help Pony because as much fun it was to see D pull a face at his choice of music sometimes (read: Take On Me by a-ha, but 10 times in a row, Losing My Religion by R.E.M followed immediately by Battery by Metallica etc.) he always had more fun exploring the Zones. Plus, Cherri would always come back with some cool knick-knack or story (”i met the Phoenix Witch and she told me: <<Cola, murder is so summer of ‘94>>, and i said: <<Whatever old crow!>> Ha, get it?”), so Jet would come out with a net positive out of the situation, regardless.

As time went on, Cherri began to go out without Jet more and more, but because it was such an incremental change he didn’t quite notice it and especially not once him and Pony rescued Poison from death by big-ball-of-radiation-in-the-sky. Now, kid Poison was a little brat- would avoid everybody like the plague and get all snappy when pois sulking sessions were interrupted- and that got poi and Jet to arguing a stupid amount for the first few months they lived together because they just. Didn’t understand each other. Poison would always end up apologizing to Jet and Jet wouldn’t always quite forgive poi for what poi said, but he wouldn’t hold it against poi either. They just really clumsily started making friends, often accidentally overstepping boundaries, because they just didn’t really know how to make friends their age- then again there weren’t many kids their age in the Zones to begin with.

By the time things between the two settled, Cherri would be away more often than not, which Jet was slightly bitter about, but tried not to pay too much attention to because, well. Now he had Poison! D would let them go around to places like the market and Tommy’s by themselves and they took this opportunity, often ripping off cool looking posters and terrorizing the poor store-owner because they were little shitheads even back then. The pre-teens had their own adventures and now it was their turn to tell them to Cherri Cola whenever they’d drop by the station even though they’d rarely stay for longer than maybe a week or two.

Then Cherri Cola became an asshole to everyone. Jet never got the full story because Cola was just starting to make amends again with the Fabulous Killjoys maybe a year before they died and both parties were pretty busy people, but in that moment it seemed like someone had flipped a switch and they just became the biggest jerk in 6 Zones. They’d always show up to the station late at night and give a near heart attack to Dr. D and then laugh about it. When anybody tried to point out they were being a dick they’d get in arguments and Cherri would storm off to some part of the house in which the station was set up at the time and not be seen until the next day or the one after. They’d always make rude comments which especially didn’t sit well with Show Pony because they knew Poison took them to heart and they were beginning to wear on their own nerves as well.

In the end, Jet just stopped trusting them further than “we are on the same side, so you probably won’t stab me in the back if i look away for 5 minutes” and moved on with his life. A few months after officially deciding him and Cola couldn’t be any more different, the agent in question dropped Kobra and Ghoul on the station’s doorstep before fucking off to Destroya-knows-where and just two years later the four teens were all over the airwaves as “The Fabulous Killjoys”- delinquents set to get revenge against Better Living. Not much time for skeletons with that reputation, y’know?

[diamondjackdaw]

How about Logan?

Buckle up, friends, this one got a little long. (Thank you @impossiblysporadiccreation​ for the ask! Always happy for an excuse to talk about Logan, lol.)

+ FIRST IMPRESSION: Gosh, it’s been so long since I started watching the series; I honestly don’t remember my first impression? Probably something to the tune of “This man is very smart and he wears a necktie; good for him.”

+ IMPRESSION NOW: The one John Mulaney gif that’s just “I’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day, I’ll die.”

If you keep up with my blog, it’s probably no shock that Logan is my favorite character in Sanders Sides. I relate to his difficulty with feelings, as well as his high expectations for himself and his fear of not being taken seriously. I love how flawed and human he is as a character; I love the glimpses of vulnerability underneath all the self-assured confidence and (sometimes) arrogance about his own abilities.

tl;dr I love Logan very much, both for his strengths and his flaws, and I’m very excited to see him grow as a character in future episodes. (I have a meta piece that discusses this in more depth if anyone is interested; I wrote it a while ago but I’m still proud of it.)

+ FAVORITE MOMENT: Too many to choose from, but I’ll always love his “That! Is! Why! I! Say! It!” in Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts; he sounds so vindicated and I’m so proud of him.

In the angst category, I’m a sucker for the look of absolute horror on his face after he lashes out at Roman in Learning New Things About Ourselves. It’s one of the few times in the show where we’ve seen him genuinely frightened, and he’s frightened of himself, and I’m not okay.

+ IDEA FOR A STORY: *stares at my mountain of in-progress Google Docs* Okay, so I may need you to be a bit more specific...? /hj

*reaches into the stack and pulls one out at random* Can I interest you in uhhhhhhh a canonverse fic where Janus and Remus invite Logan and Patton over after the events of Putting Others First, but everyone has wildly different motives for being there? Patton wants to prove he can be nice to the “dark sides” (particularly Remus), Logan wants to clear the figurative air and get Thomas’s mental health back on track, Remus just wants chaos, and Janus... well, he’s got an ethically dubious strategy for getting everyone’s issues out in the open. Step One? A friendly icebreaker, with a not-quite-so-friendly twist:

“Janus made his own snakey truth serum!” Remus exclaimed, grin stretching (very literally and very uncomfortably) from ear to ear.

“Thank you, Remus. I definitely wasn’t building toward my own dramatic reveal, so I appreciate you blurting it out with your usual lack of self-restraint.”

“You’re welcome!”

“Actually, ‘truth serum,’ at least as it is commonly represented in fictional media, does not exist,” Logan said. “While there are psychoactive drugs which can lower inhibitions and interfere with cognitive functions, none of them have been demonstrated to consistently produce accurate and honest responses in an interrogation setting.”

“That may be true,” Janus said, “but fortunately for us, we are not constrained by silly little things like scientific accuracy, as evidenced by the fact that Logan is unkillable, I’m part snake, and Remus has a moustache even though Thomas has never in his life been able to successfully grow facial hair.”

“Oh, this?” Remus tugged at the tip of his moustache. “I actually super-glued this to my face when Thomas was in middle school. It’s made of my own —”

“Regardlessss,” Janus hissed, “here in the world of Thomas’s Hollywood-inundated imagination, the synthesis of a so-called ‘truth serum’ is hardly beyond my abilities. So can we stop debating the plausibility of my very elegantly styled plot device, and —”

Abruptly, Remus snatched the fancy cup out of Janus’s hand. “Jan’s right! Enough chit-chat; it’s time for some enhanced interrogation techniques in the name of...” He giggled, high-pitched and screechy in a way that made Patton’s skin crawl. “...friendship.”

+ UNPOPULAR OPINION: Hot take, Logan’s biggest obstacle right now isn’t that the others don’t listen to him, or that they don’t take him seriously; it’s that he’s staked his sense of self on being The One Who Has The Answers and Never Makes Mistakes.

Logan needs people to take him seriously, yes, but he also needs to know that he can be taken seriously without always needing to be serious. He needs to be listened to, but he also needs to know that he’s still loved and valued even when he’s not fixing problems and providing crucial information. Just like Roman, Logan needs the security of unconditional positive regard, so he doesn’t feel like he always has to perform to a certain standard in order to earn appreciation and respect.

(Disclaimer, all of this is my personal opinion, and certainly not the only valid interpretation! This is just my take based on what we’ve seen of his character throughout the series.)

+ FAVORITE RELATIONSHIP: I don’t think I have a favorite, per se, so I’m just gonna do a list of the main Logan ships/dynamics and what I enjoy about them.

Logince: The sheer romance of enemies to lovers. Two incredibly intelligent, passionate people who know exactly how to tear each other apart, but ultimately come to a place where they choose to be gentle, because they understand each other’s fears and insecurities on a fundamental level.

Logicality: Lifelong best friend energy. Like, the epitome of an old married couple, but in a platonic way. (I’m not opposed to shipping them, by any means, but platonic Logicality is my figurative bread and butter.)

Analogical: Introverts who are just? Really comfortable with each other? Not necessarily a super emotive relationship, but it doesn’t have to be, because the cornerstone of their friendship is an unspoken bedrock of trust.

Loceit: Rivals to friends to (maybe?) lovers. Long, heated arguments about philosophy; there’s a lot of posturing and taunting but privately they both love having someone smart enough to debate them in an area of shared interest. Everything about their dynamic screams “my esteemed rival” and I love it.

Intrulogical: Mad science power couple. Enough said.

+ FAVORITE HEADCANON: With regard to memory, Logan seems to be responsible for Thomas’s factual recall, while Patton (as we see in Moving On) handles emotional connections to memories. I like the idea that Logan doesn’t experience those same emotional associations when looking back on the past, which is part of why the whole concept of nostalgia is so foreign to him, and why he struggles with identifying and naming his feelings.

Original Ask Game Here (Send Me A Character!)

[bagels-and-seagulls]

Psst! Can HJ David and BB Matteo come out and play?! PS you’re awesome and we love you, hope things are getting better in your world and you have a great holiday!!

so there’s a line in the last bit i wrote for these guys that i wanted to like expand on so here’s a list about david being sweet to matteo and him just not knowing what to do with it. hope the holiday season is treating you well, anon!

bad boy matteo + hot jock david 

-matteo has never really been in a relationship before when he stops to think about it, not a real one at least. he’s had flings, a weekend in someone else’s bed, a night spent with his chest pressed to other people’s backs that lead to a couple of days of halfhearted text messages back and forth, but never anything that lasted too long, always ending up the epitome of here for a good time, not a long time. so by the time he finally feels like he’s getting in the rhythm of having a boyfriend, being able to text david whenever he wants, asking if david wants to hang out just because he wants to see him, because he misses him, he still isn’t quite used to the way that david treats him like he’s something to care for, something to cherish, something to be proud of. 

-matteo kind of wants to ask david if he like likes him every once in a while, just to check. and he does ask one night when he’s wasted off of some punch he didn’t realize was spiked as much as it was. of course i like you, teo, david asks like he’s amused, like he wants to remember this for later. but do you like, you know, like like me? matteo asks with a slur in his words and a wave of his hand as he stumbles around just a bit, and the alcohol is making him a little bit braver but not any less unsure because the question was still pulling at his chest somewhere. i would say i like you more than that even, david laughs and reaches out to grab his elbow to steady him. i’ve never had anyone like me before, matteo admits, and david thinks that it wasn’t supposed to be out loud. 

-they’ve been dating for for what feels like half of a second, and matteo tries not to think about how this is the longest he’s ever really seen someone like that. and he doesn’t really know if they’re going steady or not, if he should even ask. he knows that he isn’t seeing anyone else, isn’t trying to, and something in the way that david smiles at him from across the room makes him think that he isn’t either, but matteo doesn’t really know what to do when they say hello to each other yet. so he stands there, and mutters, na? quiet and small, and twisting his fingers up in his pockets as he squishes his lips together trying not to do anything embarrassing, and david’s happiness lights up the whole room in a way that has matteo feeling a little bit dazed as he says, you look good today, at the same time he presses a kiss to matteo’s cheek. 

-matteo gets used to hello kisses, and goodbye kisses, and your laugh is super cute kisses, and i’m feeling a little bit bored kisses, and i’m tired kisses, and- eventually, he starts giving them back, going in for something quick and painless and almost too light to even really feel, and each time david pulls him back with with a grin and a hand on the back of his neck. 

-matteo always knew that he liked physical affection, but he never really realized how nice holding hands was until david entangled their fingers as they walked down the block together. 

-david likes using pet names, which is something that matteo notices before they even have their first kiss but not something he’s come to terms with weeks later when david has made it a habit to pepper them into most conversations. babe, david calls. babe, he repeats. he eventually sighs, matteo, with a hint of a whine, and matteo looks up immediately. why aren’t you listening? david asks because he’s feeling a little put out about not getting a constant source of attention he’s usually guaranteed whenever he spends time at matteo’s. i am listening, matteo responds. i called you like three times, david responds, and matteo frowns. i didn’t realize you were talking to me, he admits with a shrug and shifts down in where he was sitting against the wall. sweetheart, david says with that patient little smile he gets when he finds matteo out and smushes himself in close until matteo looks him in the eye, there’s no else i call babe last i checked. 

-matteo thinks that david goes out of his way to call him sugary, little names just to watch the way that matteo always looks away and smiles at it, just to be a little bit annoying and a little bit of a brat, just to poke fun, but then one day when matteo is getting out of bed for a glass of water and david is reaching after him, baby, come back to bed, matteo starts to think that maybe david doesn’t even realize he does it. 

-he starts responding to them a month or two in, and it makes david grin ear to ear. 

-you’re so smart, david mutters with something a bit peaceful on his face after matteo points up to the sky on their walk through the park and tells him the story of andromeda and the pegasus and sews a narrative through the night sky itself. i don’t know about that, matteo responds and pushes david’s face away. you are, teo, david argues, no one knows this stuff like you. 

-david says the sweetest things in passing, like he almost doesn’t even realize that he was saying anything at all, though he meant every word, every single syllable, and each time it always makes matteo’s knees go a little bit weak, a little like jelly and something starts making his stomach a little bit funny feeling. he never really gets used to it, though david gets used to how easy it is to make him blush, likes it even. 

-you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen, baby, david tells him in a hushed whisper when the whole room is a little bit golden, and it casts shadows over the bridge of matteo’s nose. and matteo doesn’t feel at all attractive when he’s waking up at the crack of dawn because david had decided he wanted to roll out of bed and leave matteo feeling a little bit cold. shuddup, matteo whines and shoves his face into david’s stomach as david runs his fingers through his hair.