#the next one I might do will probably be about their personalities

[from-the-owls-nest]

mhm. what if you're too broken, in too tiny pieces, even the base too shattered to rebuild from. what if there's too little good left.

*swallow* that... that probably wasn't the most helpful answer. but I know what you mean. and I don't really have a fix or anything.

*drily, like, ironically* should probably clarify that the you in that first sentence meant me and just me. so. before you get any more ideas. because of course for Me that's Different! At least for my chaos brain tangles.

[ooc: Philosophy Below. idk brain ran away with thoughts call me if u find it /silly]

*silence, thinking over the words again* I don't know. All I can hope is that - that sentence from the movie Aria likes. When we can see no future, all we can do is the next right thing. the next little ray of sunlight. the next little moment of peace.

And if none of that is possible... Wait, and hold on, and look for them, and hope they come back soon. This is just my thoughts - my little agreement with myself. I gotta try the best I can, even if the best I can is a break from trying to recover. And then I'll know that Past Me did their best for me now and that I owe it to Future me to do my best for what they might become. Even if they weren't very successful. Like deciding that however I am right now is me too, and so I am all these things and parts, the good and the rough ones, and they all together make the full me. It's these nice little shortcut across the self blaming and infighting that take a long time to work out but help wherever they hold.

But like. I think I owe it my future self to hold on, and to get through the storms. Our past selves have come such a long way, and who knows where we'll go next, what our future selves and lives might be like. So like. I do think that new paths open up all the time, possibilities. Even if the ones now are all bad, who knows where we can still go. And the only way to find out is to try, and to do our best.

*they pull out their diary, and from the front a little calendar page* Look. I... It's one of these pages I'll keep forever and ever because I need the reminder, and give to others when they might need it. I don't know if it's right. I hope so. and I think the only way to find out is to try and hold on.

For me that's enough. That, little hopes, little good moments, even just the memory of warmth and hope and the knowledge that all that was once can come again - in different forms, maybe, but it can. *turning to lay it next to Will's sneaker*

*more silence* But. Well. That's really big thoughts, and hard to see when everything is so dark. Hm. okay just to throw some thoughts out. You don't have to tell me, you don't have to think about it, just... some ideas. Little windows into that maybe, whenever you're able to look.

what do the voices say? can they maybe be talked to, or be both a little right?

is there anything you wish wouldn't stop? or come back? any little thing. ignore realism and context all that. if you were playing make-believe, your own little world, what would it look like? if you want to we can take turns. I play that game regularly cause, well, bad memory, and i probably should start again.

and... does it have to be a *bad* hurt? like. yes. you're different. stuff happened, and it changed you, and that really really hurt. you might not be the same person as before. is that a bad thing? or, you said nasty. sure. right now it's raw and painful and doesnt fit yet. but... could all these little shards grow back together and become something scarred and mended, and different?

I hope they could. I'd really miss you - not you from before, you however you are right now and however you want to be. Idk doesn't make much sense but - people if they change are still that person, right? just... changed, by a situation or because they got to know themselves better or whatever. Like Butterflies. I'd like to see the next chapter, with you if you want or just knowing there was one for you.

Image Credit @thelatestkate and her website

Love love love characters that present themselves as emotionally open social butterflies but the more you see of them the more obvious it is that they’re the most closed off fuckers in the story. Sure, they want to help you with your personal problems and messy emotions, but if you turn that shit back on them, they’ll shut down or deflect every time. Why are you sticking your nose in their business anyway? It’s not like it matters. They’re not a person, they’re just a role being played. They’re the guy who fixes things and saves people. Please ignore the man behind the mask, he’s fine. Everything’s fine.

[meo-eiru]

Theo doesn’t talk to her.

Not because he doesn’t want to.

Because he can’t.

Because every time he even thinks about opening his mouth, his throat closes up, and his hands shake, and he feels like he might just throw up on the floor.

She’s right there, inches away, talking to someone else, laughing like it’s nothing, like it’s so easy to be… perfect.

Theo grips the hem of his sweater and looks down, brown curls spilling over his face, hiding what he doesn’t want the world to see. His eye burns, his single, lonely green eye, the one thing that makes him stand out in all the worst ways.

She can’t see it.

She can’t see him.

He wants to be seen, but only by her. Wants her to notice, but not too much. Wants her to hear the words he can’t even say.

"Y/N..."

The name is a fragile thing in his head, something that might shatter if he says it too loud.

He watches from the corner of his eye as she reaches into her bag, fingers brushing against something, a pen maybe, and the thought of how easy it would be to hold that hand makes his chest feel hollow. He knows the shape of her hands better than his own. Knows the way her lips move when she’s lost in thought. Knows how she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s concentrating.

But she doesn’t know him… maybe that’s for the best. Because if she ever really saw him, saw the way his fingers twitch when she’s too close, saw the way he lingers just a second longer in the places she’s been, saw the way his thoughts wrap around her name like thorns, and his eye—

She’d run.

They always do.

(Back with a short fic for my favorite cyclops)

I have to admit I was so immersed in this I actually tried to like it as if it was a post and not an ask in my inbox

My god op you write so beautifully, you really made me feel his loneliness.

Theo is indeed very lonely, he usually doesn't mind it. He made peace with the fact he would probably spend his entire life alone around elementary school. He's alright, it's not like he's jealous of the people who go out with their friends, do romantic stuff with their lovers or just... exist without the fear of the other person finding them disgusting.

But your sheer existence makes all his resolve crumble down. His sweet, beautiful, perfect y/n. Someone who can do wrong. Even if you did hurt someone you probably had your reasons.

He loves you. He loves you so much. For the longest time he couldn't even bring himself to think like that in his head because someone like him doesn't have the right to think of you in such ways.

But even as the monster he is Theo still has emotions. Some too strong for his weak body to handle, so he tries to make it better.

He sketches you as he secretly watches you from a few seats behind, he writes your name over and over again like a prayer, he secretly follows you home and takes you pictures. Sometimes he intentionally skips his lesson to go rummage your locker, if he's lucky he'll find a piece of clothing and will try to relive himself while hugging and smelling it for the next hour or so.

He doesn't want to be seen, but he wants you to see him. He doesn't want to be noticed, but he wants you to notice him. He doesn't want to be touched, but he wants you to touch him.

He often fantasizes about you catching him as he tries to steal one of your belongings. He wants you to make him regret it, but also become aware that he is there. He wants you to talk to him even if it's to call him a creep. Because Theo is a coward, he's a coward who pathetically stalks you instead of actually having to courage to speak up. So he wants you to do it. He wants you to one day turn around and see him, your eyes to meet his.

You noticing him, you knowing him, you insulting him, you loving him.

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 10 - From Makarov With Love

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: Cannon typical violence, death, suicide bomber, it's a war drama what can I say.

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

People silently move into positions, they look between each other, their eyes darting between each other. There’s hand signals you’ve seen people use before but you don’t know what any of them mean. Soap grabs your arm pulling you over to the sofa, you turn frowning at him as there’s another knock at the door.

“Hello? I was told to come here. I could really use some help.” A voice calls in Arabic. Price turns to look at you.

“They’re asking for help.” You say, your heart is thumping in your chest. They sound young, you feel sick. Price and Ghost stack up on the door. When it opens there's a boy standing there, he’s older than a boy, a teen maybe 17, 18. He has an Al Qatala headband on. He’s holding his hands up.

Price reaches forward, gripping his arm and pulling him in. Ghost closes the door then lets go of his weapon letting it swing down next to him. His hands run up and down his legs. His eyes are locked on to you, you feel guilt. Maybe you smuggled this guy for Al Qatala, maybe he knows you, you don’t remember everyone.

You doubt it. It doesn’t take long before Ghost’s hands stop. He pulls the coat on the person open. Your breath catches in your throat, you gasp. He’s got a bomb vest on. Ghost backs up.

“Christ.” Soap’s voice is almost angry as he walks past you over to man. You don’t know what to do or what to say. Al Qatala do this, you’ve never seen someone with one on before. You’ve seen them on tables, you’ve smuggled C4 and over explosives for Al Qatala before.

This is real though, now you’re seeing it in person.

“What’s going to happen?” he asks, he sounds scared. You swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“You’re the one with the bomb.” You reply. It’s all you can think to say. Price comes to stand next to you.

“What’s he saying?”

“He wants to know what’s going to happen.” You say looking up at him.

“Soap?” Price calls.

“It’s on a timer, it’s not pretty but it shouldn’t be too hard.” He says he sounds confident. Gaz moves over to help him. You feel sick, you’ve helped cause this. He looks young, he probably had no idea what he was signing up for, like most of the people Al Qatala or the ULF recruit.

“Who sent you?” You ask him. It’s a stupid question but you don’t care, talking keeps you calm, it’ll probably keep him calm too.

“The Butcher. He said it was my time.”

“I thought he was in Russia?” You say, he doesn’t say anything. You take another step towards him trying not to spook him.

“Did you blow up the car?”

“The ULF are traitors!” he snaps putting his arms down.

“Woah woah, eazy.” Soap says as he and Gaz stand back, your eyes flick over to Ghost who still has his weapon trained on him.

“Tell him to keep still.” Price says.

“Keep still or they’ll shoot you.” You say to him. He stops moving, turning to look at Ghost.

“Good then I will take you all with me.”

“We’re not ULF.” You snap at him. He looks back over at you frowning.

“You blew up the base, you’re in a ULF safehouse.”

“This is a ULF safehouse?” You ask, trying to play dumb. He doesn’t say anything, his hands come black up as Soap and Gaz approach him again.

“The ULF killed my father and my brother.” He says, you sigh sympathetically.

“Mine too.” You say. There, that's how they do it. When you’re young and vulnerable looking for someone to blame. You tried to run and leave the country you called home all your life. Some people, the unlucky ones end up like him, scared, following orders they probably don’t even agree with. All they need is the promise of a better afterlife, one where they don’t have to worry about war, the loss of their family, everything is better in Jannah.

In another world you might have ended up like him. Married of to an Al Qatala general helping the cause to take down the people you blame for both your parents death. Maybe it was a good thing you were too scared to stay, war scared you as much as the next person. You weren’t exactly willing to die for a country being torn apart by terrorists.

“What’s going on?” Price asks, leaning in closer to you.

“He was sent by Al Qatala, he thinks we’re ULF. They killed his father. He planted the bomb on the car.” You explain, you feel sorry for him, he thinks killing you is going to bring him and his father piece. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Alone?” Price asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you alone?” You ask him.

“No.” He says, that makes your stomach drop. He’s being watched, someone making sure he completes the job. Making sure there are no lose ends.

“He’s not alone.” You say. You hear Price sigh. You take another step towards him watching Soap and Gaz mutter cutting wires.

“How old are you?”

“17.”

“You look older for your age.” You say, you see a little smile from on his lips.

“I was the tallest boy in my village.” He says.

“I bet you were-”

“Shit.” Soap’s voice cutting through the air makes you stop. He stands up straight looking at the boy before walking over to you and Price.

“I can’t stop it. If I cut anymore it could go off.” Soap says, he looks serious, his face dark eyes sullen. It’s the first time you’ve seen him like this. Price lets out a long sigh.

“Can’t we just take it off him?” You ask.

“It’s hardwired into the clips, pull them and it’ll go off.” Soap says.

“What do we do then?” You ask, you know you’re not going to like the answer.

“I managed to disconnect the shrapnel, when it goes it’ll be contained.” Soap says. When, When it goes. It makes you feel sick. You look back over at him.

“There has to be something you can do?” You ask urgently. You can feel your heart pick up speed.

“We can make sure we survive.” Price says. “How long do we have?”

“Five minutes,” Soap says. You look up at him shaking your head, you can’t believe what you’re hearing. You can’t believe you kissed him.

“What do I tell him?” You ask Price as Soap goes over to Ghost.

“Tell him he’s going to be okay.” Price says darkly. You look at the boy, he’s frowning watching Soap and Ghost talk.

“He’s just a kid.” You whisper, you don’t mean for Price to hear you just hate it. You hate what’s happening right now.

“They always are.” He breathes, crossing his arms.

“Are you sure they know what they’re doing?” He asks.

“Of course, they’re experts.” You say, you force a smile. He nods the frown leaving his face. You can’t see the timer from here. Soap said 5 minutes, you’re trying to count in your head.

“Where are you from?” You ask him.

“Sakhra. What about you?”

“A little town in the south, it was destroyed when the fighting started.” You say swallowing the tears back. You need to keep your cool. You watch as Ghost moves ever so slightly, his weapon dipped in his arms. Soap opens the front door.

“What’s going on?” He asks, suddenly straightening up.

“Nothing, it’s going to be okay.” You lie, why does lying come so easily even now. You’re not sure how long is left, you stopped trying to count. Soap and Ghost move, getting into position to pull him out the door and leave him out their until the inevitable happens.

It’s cold and calculated, self preservation. He would be dead anyway, at least this way only he will get hurt. You hope there's an afterlife, Jannah or heaven, even just some kind of limbo, you hope he can see his father again.

You see Soap nod. It happens fast. Gaz steps out the way and Soap grabs him from behind. You don’t mean for a yelp to leave your throat as his screams breaks the silence in the air. You feel Price grab your arm pulling you across the room and into the kitchen. You stumble letting him pull you, pushing you behind a wall, Gaz joins you next.

You can hear him shouting, shouting for help, banging on the door that has been locked in his face.

Soap and Ghost come round the corner next. There’s a few seconds of silence then an explosion. It shakes the house, the smell of gunpowder and sulfur fills the air. Everyone walks out the kitchen. You take a second to collect yourself. Price letting go of his tight grip on your arm.

When you make it out the front door has been blown open and the window smashed in. There’s surprisingly still a body, you can’t look at it for too long.

You feel ill, he was just a kid, 17 years old. You never even asked his name.

…

You’re laid in bed staring up at the ceiling of the house. After what happened no one had the stomach to eat. Ghost and Gaz cleaned up the body, putting it in the shed. You wanted to bury it but Price said it was a waste of time, he promised the ULF would come by and deal with it. You didn’t believe him.

You were worried someone was watching the house but after Price and Soap did a sweep of the area he’s convinced whoever was watching had gone. Regardless he still said someone should be on guard just in case. He didn’t try talking about his plan to go to Russia again, he just ordered everyone to get some rest.

You can’t sleep though, your mind is plagued, you can’t get his shouting out of your head. You just threw him out in the cold to die. He must have been terrified. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe you’re not built for this type of job. Soldiers kill people, so do the ULF and Al Qatala, maybe you wouldn't mind being stuck in a war room right now. It’s easier to hear about these things then witness them first hand.

You get out of bed, you can’t sleep. You might as well see if Price is still awake, maybe he’ll let you keep watch and then he can get some rest. Besides he probably sleeps better after these kind of things then you.

When you make it out into the hall every door but the bathroom is closed, you can hear snoring coming through one of them. At least someone is sleeping. You make it down the stairs and see Price leaning back on the sofa with a bottle of something on the table and a half filled glass. He doesn’t have a hat on, he’s almost always wearing one. He watches you walk and sit next to him on the sofa.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks. You lean back, shaking your head. “Want one?” He asks leaning forward to pick up his glass.

“I don’t drink.” You say, he hums finishing his glass and putting it back down on the table.

“You should get some sleep. I can keep watch.” You say pulling your legs up onto the sofa.

“It’s okay, we’ll be leaving in a few hours anyway. You look over at the window you helped Soap board up with some wood you found out back. There’s a chill in the building now.

“Do you still plan on going to Russia?” You ask. He nods.

“We have intel Jamal and Khaled are still in Volgograd.”

“How?” You ask frowning.

“CIA contact, they were able to do some snooping for us.”

“What about Al Qatala?”

“They’re still moving south, it looks like they’re going to be targeting ULF bases, Farah and Alex will have their hands full.” Price says as he reaches over to refill his glass.

“How did they know we were going to attack the base, they blew the car and sent a suicide bomber after us.” You say. He sighs again bringing the glass to his lips.

“Konni has more info than we think. Makarov is normally smarter, this isn’t like him.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Sending Al Qatala after us, something’s changed. Why Al Qatala and not Konni, people he trusts. He’s desperate.” He talks sounds like he’s talking to himself a stream of unbroken thoughts, you almost don’t want to interrupt him.

“Or maybe he just really wants you dead.” You sigh.

“Then he would have done a better job.” He looks over at you.

“You did good today.” He says, you shake your head looking away.

“I wish we could have saved him.”

“We can’t save everyone.” He finishes his drink off, putting the glass back on the table. “A Lot of the time it's us or them, we don’t always have the luxury of a choice.”

“So I guess you still want me and Soap to go back to Farah tomorrow.” You ask changing the subject. He nods. “We’ll be in contact let you know when you should come up.”

You don't say anything turning away and looking back over at the stairs, you’re not in the mood to fight with him.

“If you’re still willing to work with us?” He asks, you turn back to look at him. He's got blue eyes like Soap, his look darker, the circles under them deeper. You nod, he smiles, his hand comes to lay on your thigh. You freeze at the contact, his hand is warm, he squeezes it then gets up.

“You should try and get some rest, you have a long trip tomorrow.”

“So do you.” You say swallowing the saliva that’s built up in your mouth. You can feel heat rushing to your cheeks, he smiles at you then heads into the kitchen. You close your eyes, squeezing the bridge of your nose. You’re emotional, you’ve had a long day. There’s no way you’re crushing on Price too.

Next

Banners by plum98

[yoyomomiko]

Could I pls request some cute luffy dating headcanons? Also your page is so cute<3333

pairings: luffy x female reader

cw: not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

— (a/n): tysm!! >.< i've actually been wanting to write something for luffy for quite a while now!! also i'm sorry this is short :(( -> m.list

Luffy is obsessed with physical affection. He constantly wants to hold your hand, hug you, or just lean against you!!

If you're sitting down, expect him to plop down beside you and wrap his arms around you.

He gives you random kisses all the time!!

Luffy doesn't really think about it. He just sees your face and kisses you. It could be your lips, cheek, forehead or even nose. If you look kissable (which is always), he's going for it.

He steals food for you!!

He'll steal some meat off of Sanji's stove just to share it with you. He thinks it's romantic, even if Sanji is screaming right next to him.

Will fall asleep on you. Whether it's your lap, shoulder, or even if you're standing, he has no problem with dozing off while leaning against you.

Whether you like it or not, dating Luffy means getting dragged into his stupid adventures. He doesn't want you to get hurt, but he likes it better when you're there with him.

He gets jealous and doesn't even realize it!! He'll complain to the rest of the crew about how you don't give him enough attention. Sometimes he squishes himself in the middle of the person you are talking with and inserts himself into the conversation, wrapping an arm around your waist, completely unaware that he's being possessive.

He talks about you all the time!! The crew is constantly hearing "Did you see what [Y/N] did?" "Isn't that impressive?" "Isn't [Y/N] so cool?" He's your biggest fan.

Despite him being an adorable boyfriend, he's got a few errors. He's terrible at keeping secrets!! He'll try to keep it a surprise, but he'll blurt it out seconds later.

Loves it when you play with his hair. He will instantly melt if you run your fingers through his hair. If you ever want to put something cute in his hair, like a little bow, do it. He'll wear it proudly.

Luffy is extremely food motivated, but he always makes sure you get a bite before he devours the whole plate.

He TACKLES you. I wanted to say that he tackles you when he's excited, but let's be honest, he doesn't have to be thrilled to jump on you.

If you've been apart for a while, prepare for a Luffy to collide into you at full speed the moment he sees you again.

He brags about you constantly!! He'll legit tell strangers how amazing you are.

Luffy wants you to wear his hat. He doesn't trust just anyone with his hat, but sometimes he'll put it on your head and grin, because you look pretty in it. His words, not mine.

He gets so easily distracted by you!!! If you're in the middle of battle and looking cool, he'll stop what he's doing just to admire you.

Always tries to carry you. Piggy back rides, bridal style, he just loves carrying you!! If you let him, he will never put you down.

Luffy hates it when you're sad. If you cry, he is panicking. He'll make the funniest faces, tell the dumbest jokes and even offer you his food just to cheer you up.

He falls asleep talking to you. You could be having a deep conversation, and all of the sudden you hear him snoring. He falls asleep mid sentence. You can't even get mad because he looks so peaceful.

He wants you to sit next to him at every meal. He'll save you a spot and glare at anyone who tries to take it. You're his favourite person, and meal time is sacred.

Luffy loves it when you wear his clothes!! If you throw on his vest or one of his clothes, his face lights up. He might even tell you to keep it!! Nami might genuinely turn pale if she sees you wear one of... Those vests.

★yoyomiko ★miko

[alexusonfire]

just rewatched Joan’s scenes in ahs coven because of you and there’s this scene where Fiona makes that comment about Christian’s being the biggest perverts behind closed doors and I was wondering what you think Joan’s “perversions” are? 👀

Okay this has made me feral and I've been thinking about it all day, please see below 😈

Okay first up, and the most obvious after my last fic, is biting**, specifically to mark. I think she does it once in a very heated moment and her brain clicks, so much so that if she's in a full-blown relationship, her partner is very rarely not marked/bitten. It will break skin, it will bruise, and it will hurt.

Next is Impact Play. Dominance and control are very much ingrained into Joan's personality, and I think this is one of her favorite ways to exert that in the bedroom. Could even add a little religious spin to it, her partner having to atone for their sinful thoughts and behaviours (wanting to fuck her brains out). Plus, she'd look hot with a riding crop or cane in hand, you cannot tell me otherwise.

Edging would be an additional way to “control”, as she quite literally decides when her partner finishes. She'd hold them so tenderly in her arms and whisper the sweetest nothings while they beg her for release; sometimes she gives it to them, and sometimes, if she's really in a mood, she doesn't.

This one I had to mull over, but I do think she'd be a bit… voyeuristic. It would either be that she'd watch/listen to her partner get off when they don't know she's there (something something it's a sin and she shouldn't be doing this...) OR back to the control aspect, she perches herself in a chair at the end of the bed and directs her partner on how to touch themselves. Her own little personal show if you will.

** Lastly, to go along with biting, maybe, maybe, some blood play??? I dunno you said vampire Joan and then I pictured blood on her teeth and got all hot and bothered. Probably less a Joan thing and more a me thing but like, possessive, unhinged, bordering on locking-you-in-her-basement-to-keep-you-all-to-herself Joan might get off on the whole “a part of you is inside me now”. Anywho. Definitely not going to dwell on that thought for the next few days. 😁

[jostystyles]

when i run out of road, you bring me home | sj

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY JARVY SORRY YOU LOST :( but anyways, this is a culmination of me yapping to @mattyanonwrites about jarvy. i also had casual by chappell roan stuck in my head writing this, so it’s loosely based off that as well. and also happy bday harry styles there’s references to you in here too.

warnings: mentions of marijuana and alcohol, brief mentions of sex

word count: 2.1k. this was supposed to be a blurb.

The blare of the alarm broke him out of a peaceful sleep. The kind that makes you not want to get up, and just stay in the comfort of the blankets and shielded from the real world. Seth sighed as he rolled over to silence the alarm, scrolling through the slew of texts he was already receiving. If he wasn’t already awake, he was now after seeing the notification he’s always looking for.

12:07 am

(Y/N) 🤒

happy birthday jarvy :) hope you have the best day. miss you and sorry i won’t be around today to see you.

His heart clenched, as he realized she was the first person that texted him. She was also the only person he wanted to actually see today. In all honesty, she was the only person he really wanted to see ever. He’d take her in any capacity he could get. Loving the message and replying with a quick “thanks, miss you” and dragged himself out of bed to go in the shower. As the water cascaded down his body, he couldn’t help but let the memories flow of just last week when she was here with him, their bodies wet and flush to each other as one. Turning the water cold, Seth shook his head and dragged his hands down his face with a sigh.

He rode to the rink in silence, aside from a nice phone call with his mom, the only thing surrounding him was the sound of Carolina by Harry Styles coming from his speakers. It was a song (Y/N) added to his playlist as a joke, but one he’d grown to genuinely enjoy. (In all honesty, he actually enjoyed Harry’s music which is something he’d never admit to anyone) Surprisingly, he was the last one to arrive to the arena for morning skate, a role which was usually reserved for KK. As if they had it rehearsed, the second he set foot in the room he was met with the glaring shrieks of Martinook and immediately encapsulated in a three way hug by KK, Andrei and Burnzie.

“Happy birthday Jarvyman!”

“Gee thanks guys,” he exclaimed, “I was afraid that blink 182 lyric was true for a second there.”

Rolling his eyes and shoving Seth away, Andrei let out a chuckle.

“You pumped for the late evening, eh? Win or lose tonight we are getting very drunk. Rented out the Local for a good time.”

Seth smiled, replying with a laugh of “Hell yeah man.”

Andrei noticed his friends spirit was a little deflated.

“Yeah? Any chance of uh, you know who making an appearance?”

Like a sleeper agent, Seth’s demeanor activated from distracted to focused almost instantly.

“Uh, probably not. She texted me that she won’t be around today. She’s stuck in New York City with work.”

That’s why he was sad, Andrei realized. (Y/N) wouldn’t be in attendance. He might be playing with fire by saying this, but he just had to ask.

“You guys are still doing that casual thing, yes?”

Sliding his practice sweater over his pads, Seth nodded.

“Yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it.”

Casual. Except he was eating her out in the passenger seat of his car the other day. Casual, when her mom invited him to their beach house for (Y/N)’s birthday in the summer.

He had no right to be as upset as he was. She wasn’t his girlfriend. In all honesty, he didn’t even know what she was anymore. Three months ago, she was the frazzled college girl he met his first year in Raleigh that became his best friend. The girl he couldn’t live without. Three months ago, she was the girl whose couch he cried on after his ex girlfriend cheated on him. One thing led to another, and the next thing he knew they were waking up naked and agreeing to keep it casual. But Seth liked to be stupid, and the guys teased him for it. He realized been in love with (Y/N) over the summer, and has done nothing but daydream about it to anyone but her. Nellie laughed and called him a romantic when he was wasted and told her and KK about his feelings, saying how he saw (Y/N) living in his apartment, her cats, and maybe they’d have a dog by then. And she’d take him with her and show him off to her friends back home.

“No attachment, right?”

He should’ve said no. Please. I’m attached. But instead, he agreed. A decision he was certainly regretting right now as he threw back his third green tea shot of the night, chasing it with a sip of his beer.

Jesperi sighed watching his best friend sulk at his own birthday party. In the next 5 minutes though, he was either going to go down as the best friend in the world or never be spoken to again. Glancing down at his phone, the message he’d been anxiously awaiting most of the night came through.

11:39 pm

(Y/N)

ubers 2 min out. do you think he’s onto us yet?

No. He doesn’t suspect a thing. Walking around the whole day like a sad puppy. Even looked dejected after he scored

fuck yeah. not that he’s sad, but this is going to be the best surprise ever. i’m here. keep him distracted

Realizing Seth was about to turn and head his direction, he raced forward to slap him on the back and keep him facing away from the door.

“Eh buddy, enjoying your night?”

“Yeah man this is awesome. I’m kinda beat though, think I’m gonna head out soon.”

KK squinted, pulling his head back a bit. “Leaving your own birthday party early? You good Jarvyman?”

Seth shrugged. “Yeah. ‘sides (Y/N) said she was gonna call me when she got to her hotel from the event she was at, but she hasn’t called me yet.” As soon as he stopped talking, he felt a pair of soft arms snake around his waist.

“Yeah, sorry about that. My plane got delayed a few times. Sorry I’m late to the party.”

Whipping around faster than he could on skates, he was met with his favorite smile and the prettiest eyes he’d grown fond of looking into blinking excitedly at him.

“(Y/N)? You’re here? I thought- New York, and you’d be stuck until tomorrow, and…oh my god.” he trailed off, burying his head into her neck and breathing in the scent of her. He could feel the tears pricking his eyes as he swayed her back and forth.

Giggling, (Y/N) murmured into his ear, “Of course I’m here, Seth. I would’ve never missed this. Happy birthday my dear.” she finished, pressing a soft kiss to his scruffy cheek.

“Can we leave? Now, please? Just wanna be with you.” He mumbled back, still holding onto her.

“Already? I just got here! At least let me say hi to everyone before I go-“

“You’ll see them at the next game. Let’s go.” He said, grabbing her hand and dragging her away from the bar. As they raced out, (Y/N) waved at Andrei and Jaccob, who were beside themselves with laughter at Seth’s sudden desire to leave his own party. Thankful he moved his car across the lot after the game, Seth opened (Y/N)s door for her before climbing into his own side of the car.

“I can’t believe you’re here right now. For the record, worst surprise ever. You showed up with only an hour left in my birthday.” He teased, fingers tapping the steering wheel with anxiety.

“Yeah well tell that to mother nature. I tried to get in so I could at least see the game, but we couldn’t depart JFK until the storm passed. I had to warn KK before puck drop to update our plans.”

“He was in on this?”

“Yeah, always. As soon as I found out I was going to come home today I texted him.”

“You guys suck. I don’t like being left out.”

(Y/N) laughed. “Jarvy, we were surprising you. We kind of had to leave you out.”

“Well yeah, but that doesn’t stop me from getting FOMO.”

The elevator ride up to his apartment was silent, which was unlikely for Seth. (Y/N) could tell he was on edge, and she wasn’t sure why. Before she could let her thoughts wander further, the bell dinged and they walked out hand in hand to his door.

Seth’s heart was racing. From almost bawling like a baby at the sight of her, he really hadn’t talked to (Y/N) that much since she got here. But in his own defense he didn’t think he’d have to do this so soon. Since she left last week, (Y/N) had left a void in Seth’s life. He’d always had her in some capacity since they came into each other’s lives. But lately, since they started whatever this thing they had going on, he craved her in every way imaginable. If all it took for him to realize he finally had to tell her how he felt was her going out of town, he’d have bought her a ticket a long time ago.

They stepped into his apartment, leaving their shoes by the door. As soon as (Y/N)s second boot was off her foot, Seth’s hands were grabbing her face, bringing it towards his own. His lips were soft on hers, and she could taste the cheap beer he’d been nursing all night. (Y/N) loved kissing him, but this one was different. Usually, every kiss they shared was fueled by pure lust, the marijuana smoke in their lungs or liquor in their veins providing accelerant. But this one, right now, was one fueled by something different.

Pulling away from her, his brown eyes wide, he rambled out, “I need to tell you something. Let’s go.”

“Seth. Honey, you’re scaring me. You’ve been weird all night, is everything okay?” (Y/N) asked, as they made their way to the couch.

“Yes it’s ok. I promise. Just please, listen to me, ok?” Seth replied, sliding himself into a position where he was kneeling in front of her, his head resting against her tummy. They’d been in this position many times before, but in his eyes this was the most intimate one yet.

“I don’t think I can be casual anymore. It’s getting too hard for me. Because I think it feels too real. And that’s what I want. The real thing. With you.”

“Seth, honey-“

“Wait please, let me get it out before you say anything, ok?” She nodded to him in response.

“I want to be yours. Your favorite bra is in my dresser, and I know my favorite jacket is at your place. I can’t call it casual when I was on the phone talking your sister down from dropping out of soccer. Or when you’re texting with Kayden about what he should buy his girlfriend at Ulta. Because that to me means we’re in this. And I try to be chill about it, and you know I love to talk but I try to hold my tongue on that topic because I want to give you space and not overwhelm you. But it’s overwhelming me. And I hate that I let this drag on so long because now I’m hating myself for not telling you sooner.”

“Oh, Jarvy. Don’t you know how much I love you?” (Y/N) replied, her acrylic nails scratching his head softly.

Seth must have died and gone to heaven. “You do?”

“Of course I do. I should’ve told you sooner. That night you kissed me, I decided that I’d have you in whatever way I could. And that meant being casual so it would hurt less when you eventually got tired of me. Because you were never really mine” (Y/N) confessed, sort of feeling a weight lift off her chest. She’s loved him for so long.

Seth moved so he was on top of her, her back pressed to the corner of the couch, their legs intertwined at the opposite end. “I love you. I love you so much. You’re my best friend. I’ll never get tired of you.”

(Y/N) giggled, leaning forward slightly to capture his lips in a quick kiss. “I know that now, silly boy.”

Seth rested his head on her boobs, his arms squeezing her waist a little tighter. Eyes closed, he laid there for a few minutes, listening to the beat of her heart, following the rise and fall of her breathing, and feeling the warmth of her hands in his hair.

“You know what would be the best birthday gift ever?”

“What’s that, honey?”

“For you to be my girlfriend.”

(Y/N) let out a cackle. “Well, it’s a good thing you asked because I left your other gift at my apartment.”

Jesperi was definitely getting an expensive gift for his birthday this year.

tags: @comphyjost @ilyasorokinn @lam-ila @2manytabsopen @laurenairay @leafsbabe

[wyattjohnston]

just between you and me - cole caufield

summary: you return to montreal after some time abroad and it unleashes a whole new slew of questions.

word count: 3,325

note: this is for @lam-ila for The Winter Fic Exchange 2k25! i hope you like it maleeha <3 thank you to @comphy-and-cozy and for all your help!!

main character: feminine reader insert

The windowpane offers a nice reprieve from the chaotic warmth being produced by seemingly everybody you’ve ever known being invited to your welcome back party. It’s well below freezing which isn’t at all unusual for Montreal, and—you’ll never admit this out loud—sitting next to the window is the closest you’re going to get to outside. Belgium had been utterly tropical in comparison and you’re ashamed by how quickly the Montreal weather became too much. The crowd of people sitting on the balcony are, quite frankly, out of their minds.

“Don’t think you should be sitting over here by yourself.”

You move your attention from the group outside to the person who just joined you, smiling gently when you realise who it is followed by a just as gentle, “Hi, Cole.”

The confusion across his face is clear and it lasts longer than just a passing second, before he’s saying your name back to you in such a questioning manner that you start to wonder if you’ve somehow been wrong all these years.

He shuffles further into the booth opposite you, leaning all his body weight onto his forearms and the table between them, and says emphatically, “No fucking way.”

You understand his reaction somewhat, knowing that the semester spent in Belgium had been eye opening and experimental, but you can only shrug at him because visibly all that’s changed about you that night is that you’ve put on some makeup and worn something a little tighter than you used to.

“You look—” he pauses, and you sigh to yourself because you know what’s coming next. “You look great. Belgium really did a number on you, eh?”

“Sure, you could put it that way.”

The compliment is nice, regardless, so you take it at face value and put your own arms on the table, leaning in towards him. He grins, toothy and all encompassing, and you’re shunted back to the small crush you’ve always had on him. It’s not anything that takes over your life; sometimes you’re not even sure it’s anything more than the thought that he’s available, but it’s enough to send butterflies into your stomach.

He tells you to stay put, and you do as you’re told even if you’re contorting yourself in your seat to see exactly where he’s gone and what he’s up to. The drink he brings back to you is what he knows as your favourite; you thank him for the soft drink, even if that’s also something that changed while you were away.

You can’t say you’re surprised when, a couple days later, you get a text from Cole asking when you’re next free which is quickly followed by another text with the days he’s free that week.

Hanging out with Cole wasn’t uncommon, though it was typically part of a larger group. It’s not explicit that this is one-on-one in any way other than Cole being the one to initiate and organise; he always left that to someone else and just showed up wherever the people were.

You leave them on your Lock Screen for most of the day and wait until the Habs game is over that night to text him back—whilst you wouldn’t give him the quick response he was undoubtedly after, there’s no way you’re going to put yourself in the position to wait by texting him mid-game.

The text you send reads “that depends what we’re doing” and it’s not until the read receipt pops up and you read it back that you realise it probably sounds quite flirty. It’s not not the message you were trying to convey but your palms get a little sweaty when it really kicks in that the flood gates have just been opened.

Cole’s unbridled joy is conveyed through his texts—the win probably doing some heavy lifting there—and the abundance of exclamation marks. Though, truthfully, they might not be that uncommon for Cole.

“We can go bowling!! Or ice skating!! Or you can come over??!!”

It’s endearing if not a little overwhelming.

Ice skating is the pick, and you can’t help but laugh at the idea of him using his day off to do more skating. It was his suggestion, and he doesn’t seem bothered by it, so you don’t bring it up at all.

He helps with your skates even though you’re more than capable; he just kneels down in front of you and starts lacing them up before you can even begin to tighten them yourself. He does look cute when he smiles up at you proudly, so you don’t have it in you to fight it.

Cole is holding your hand the moment you’re stepping onto the ice. You know how to skate and he knows you know how, so it’s not a tight, steadying grip. In fact, it’s having the opposite effect as your knees get weak because even through two pairs of thick, winter gloves you can feel every part of his hand against yours.

On the ice you can hear a guy yapping at his poor date about how good he was at hockey, how he could have gone pro, but he decided it was better for him to go to university and get a real job because of some made up reason that trailed off before he really finished his sentence. You couldn’t hide your laugh at it all, a full-bodied snort that drew the attention of the couple, so you curled into Cole to try and pretend it was something he’d said.

It did end up being Cole who was making you laugh, when he leant in closer whilst he kept you moving across the ice to repeat the guy’s ridiculous claims. The hockey bro voice he was putting on—or maybe just playing up—really sent you over the edge, and you had to hold onto him to keep upright as your laughter got to a point where breathing was problematic.

Being pulled effortlessly around the rink by Cole was something. It certainly wasn’t making it any easier to breathe, and even less so when you were able to gather some bearings and make eye contact with him. You weren’t sure anyone had ever looked at you with such softness and sincerity; you had to look away.

It’s so cliché when you step off the ice to get hot chocolate that you have no choice but to sit opposite him and ask him a question that’s been on your mind all day.

“Is this your go-to first date?”

“It’s…” he pauses briefly, sheepish. “It’s in the rotation, yeah. Seasonal. You’re my favourite.”

You avert eye contact, staring at your hands where they’re wrapped around the source of warmth that is your cup. Cole’s foot nudging against yours doesn’t do a lot to help keep your voice steady because your mind has conjured up an image of Cole and the poor date from earlier. She’s stunning, exactly the type of woman who would make a perfect WAG—no amount of makeup or otherwise traditionally feminine behaviour would ever make you feel like you could match her.

It’s with a weak voice you say, “You probably say that to all the girls.”

“No.” Cole doesn’t miss a beat. “Just you.”

Your cheeks warm instantly, and you’re filled with so much emotion that you screw your eyes shut because you don’t want to see the face he makes at your delirious smile.

Before you leave, the wannabe hockey player catches up with you and asks Cole for an autograph and a photo which are happily provided. He tells his date, before you and Cole can even get out of earshot, that he was a better player than Cole has ever been and would have gone higher in the draft had he kept up with hockey.

“Can’t believe the world doesn’t get to see the next Gretzky play just because he wants to…” he trails off into unintelligible mumbling.

The number of dates you’ve been on—and they are dates, Cole has made that exceedingly clear—is quite frankly outstanding for it having been two weeks. It feels like every day he’s free, and you don’t have classes, you’re together. It’s a lot, to be honest, but it’s not bad.

It’s not like you’ve never gone to a nice restaurant before—your parents were fans of the finer things in life, and you and your friends liked to treat yourselves on your birthdays—it’s just not something you ever pictured yourself doing with Cole. Though, to be fair, you hadn’t thought about doing much with Cole until he’d suddenly started showing interest.

The maître d’ knows Cole and you’re not so sure whether it’s because Cole is a regular or because he plays for the Habs. It’s likely both.

You don’t feel like you fit, despite any sudden interest in fashion and skincare you’ve developed—when you went out with your friends in Belgium, it was always met with judgemental, and disbelieving looks that you belonged.

You push down your discomfort and let Cole order your dinner because the menu is intimidating. He asks the waiter to bring the wine that pairs best with each course, and then turns to you and says, “Pop?”

“Just seltzer, please,” you say to Cole before turning to the waiter with a timid smile. “Thank you.”

When you turn your attention back to Cole, he’s visibly confused—his eyebrows pulled together, and his mouth pulled tight. You tilt your head, confused by his confusion but he doesn’t say anything to you.

“I don’t drink soft drinks anymore,” you explain. It doesn’t clear his confusion. “Just trying to take better care of my teeth. That seems to be the change that’s got you the most.”

“Just surprised. It’s not a bad thing.”

You tilt your head at him again, waiting for him to elaborate, but the waiter returns with your drinks and Cole easily shifts the conversation to his brother, Brock.

At the next table there’s a couple, probably in their early 50s, who are absolutely besotted with each other. You catch yourself staring at them a lot throughout the evening, hoping to learn what really makes a relationship perfect. Cole notices, too, though he stares far less at them than he does at you. When you catch him staring, the heart eyes he’s developed are enough to make your heart swell.

“You look really nice tonight,” he says after one of the times he gets caught, as if it’s not what he said the second he laid eyes on you at your front door.

The compliments have come through thick and fast since Cole came back into your life. You’re not mad about them, really, and you’re proud of what you’re now able to do with your makeup and the outfits you’re able to put together so that they are outfits and not just pants and a top, but every time he says something nice you’re reminded of the years where he said nothing of the sort—when you were just another person in the same room.

It comes out of nowhere, is much of the problem. It’s been a month, maybe two, of thoughts running through your head, of what you and Cole are and what he really thinks about you—about anything—and you’ve not asked. You probably should have because it’s not an inconsistent thought in your head about what any of this even means.

You and Cole are sitting on his couch, watching a 90s teen romcom, not having said a word for half an hour, when you sit up straight and stare at him.

He looks put out by having lost your body heat, instantly reaching out to pull you back, but you can’t get over Laney Boggs’ sudden transformation into a Prom Queen and so you start spilling a months’ worth of thoughts to him.

“I can’t keep this up, Cole,” you say with all the dramatics of the main character of a romcom.

It sort of feels like he’s in a constant state of confusion when you’re around and it adds to all the thoughts running through your head because what could he possibly see in you when he doesn’t ever seem to know what to expect next.

He asks, “Keep what up?”

“Pretending that it doesn’t kill me that you’re only interested in me now that I’m more of a girly girl.”

There’s a beat, where he stares at you, and you stare back, and his face screws up and your heart does the same, but you bite your lip because really, you need to hear something from him, anything.

“What?” he says—it’s less of a question than a silence filler. “No. No that’s—”

“But it is, though, isn’t it?” You cut him off before he can stumble over any more words. “Because you weren’t taking me on dates or showing any interest when I was drinking nothing but pop and wearing nothing but sports merch but put me in a dress with a boring water in my hand and all of a sudden you can’t get enough of me.”

“I didn’t… I don’t… I don’t care about water,” he says, staring at you like you’ve grown three heads. Maybe you have. You’re not sure exactly what you look like at that moment. Promptly more unkempt than when you showed up, maybe a little crazier in the eyes—maybe doing a reverse She’s All That while the end of the movie plays behind you.

“You can’t even deny it,” you argue back, sitting further back against the arm of the couch and putting more space between you and Cole. He’s listening to every word you say, rolling them all through his mind one by one. “I thought I was alright with it, but I can’t stop thinking about it. Would you have ever looked at me that way if everything about me hadn’t changed?”

Cole’s face changes even more at that point, the confusion morphing into something a little pained and that makes sense to you if he feels like he’s been called out. He leans forward, trying to close some of the space you’ve created, but pulls back a little when you show any sign of helping the space disappear.

His shoulders fall and he says confidently, “I’m into you, babe. Just you.”

There’s part of you that wonders why he hasn’t made a move. There have been makeouts and cuddling but nothing more and you’re not mad about that at all, you’re quite happy that the pace has been slow in that respect, but the fact that it hasn’t come up at all has been playing on your mind because is he into you? Any version of you?

It’s not the most burning question in your mind right then, though, and you manage to get out, “But would you have ever asked me out the way I was before Belgium?”

“I didn’t…” All his confidence is gone. “I didn’t think of you that way before.”

You nod and stand, knowing that staying in that room is going to hurt even more than the conversation you’ve just had. So you say, “Okay,” as you’re walking to the door and following it up with, “That’s all I needed to know,” when you’re turning the doorknob.

Cole is standing, too, though he’s not moving towards you. He’s standing by the couch, looking small and curled in on himself. Your heart breaks just a little bit more when he asks, “Are we—Are we breaking up?”

Despite all the dates and the time you’ve been spending together, you’re not even sure that you’re at a point where you can ‘break up’. There’s been no conversation about what you are outside of calling the time you’re spending together dates.

“I don’t know what we are, Cole,” you say, tired and desperate to get out of his house and be alone. “I just need some time to think.”

You can hear your roommate open the front door, immediately telling whoever is there that you don’t want to see them. It’s not hard to connect the dots. Especially not when they line up perfectly with the Habs returning from a road trip.

Cole is talking before your roommate has even finished speaking, hurriedly trying to say he just wants to talk to you, and nothing else, and he has to explain things and the more the talks the faster he gets, and your roommate is trying to get a word in but Cole isn’t letting her.

It’s not anybody else’s job to be your bodyguard, so you prepare yourself mentally to rescue her from his rapid-fire speech. There’s no physical effort to put in, especially not when you putting in effort is what caused all your problems to begin with, so you step into the hall wearing a two-sizes-too-large Habs shirt with a hole in each armpit and the shorts made of sweatpants material that haven’t been seen outside your house since prior to you leaving for Belgium. Your skincare routine may or may not have been neglected in the last 48 hours, you don’t actually remember. The spots brewing suggest it’s more like in the may not column.

Yet, despite that, Cole’s eyes are on you the second you’re in his line of sight, and the relief rolling off him is palpable. He stops talking, finally taking a breath, and you just nod at your roommate when she silently asks if you actually want to do this. She takes a deep breath, waits half a second for you to change your mind, and then leaves you and Cole standing in your small entry hall.

“Sorry about the road trip,” you say, suddenly struck by his silence after how fast his mouth had been moving before you were standing in front of him.

“I’m sorry.” He sounds desperate, even more so than when he was begging to see you. “I—I’m into you. I don’t want whatever you think I think to get in the way of that.”

“But you weren’t into before I looked different.”

“You don’t look that different,” he counters. “I don’t think you’re wearing any make up right now and I am still really into you.”

Your cheeks warm, and you struggle to get out anything because you truthfully don’t have a lot of will to argue with him if he’s into you. You do manage, “You never showed any interest before,” which is just a repeat of everything you’ve already said.

“Then you disappeared for months, and I realised I missed you. The timing isn’t great for whatever you think is going on, but I promise I like you. A lot. And I want to keep going on dates and hanging out and all of that stuff. You can wear whatever you want or don���t want, it makes no difference to me.”

“Why didn’t you say any of that last week?”

He laughs, a snort which is largely self-deprecating, “I couldn’t wrap my head around what you were saying because it didn’t make sense to me. Kind of put me on the spot there, babe. Also felt like a bit of a trap with the movie if we’re being honest with each other.”

You sigh, “The movie was an accident. It did, uh, cause everything to kind of burst, though.”

“Can we go back to hanging out? To dating? The last week’s sucked sorta hard.”

You can’t disagree that it’s sucked sorta hard. Despite needing the time to think about it, the absence of Cole’s silly texts throughout the day or his random minute-long phone calls because his thought was too much for a text had left a huge gap in your day that you hadn’t even realised he’d been filling.

It’s easy, then, to move towards him and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close.

[just1cefor4ll]

—You’re the type of person they write rock songs about

modern!au Viktor x fem!reader warning. swearing, might be OOC, not proof read

part four || part five || part six

‘Ooh love, ooh lover boy

What’re you doing tonight? Ooh, hey boy.’

——————————————————————————

[powpow] y/n.

[powpow] y/n I KNOW YOU’RE STILL HERE.

[powpow] ANSWER ME YOU COWARD.

[ekk0stime] they’re definitely just lying there, staring at their screen, kicking their feet or some shit.

[ishaq] yeah, probably overthinking a two word message.

[truly.y/n] I ACTUALLY HATE YOU ALL.

[powpow] no u don’t <3

[ekk0stime] soooooo when’s the second date?

[ishaq] “second” implying y/n considers tonight a first date LMAO.

[powpow] THAT’S SO TRUE WAIT.

[truly.y/n] I AM NEVER SPEAKING TO ANY OF YOU AGAIN.

[powpow] oh, so you’ll just talk to Viktor instead? got it.

[ekk0stime] they walked right into that one.

[ishaq] perfect example of self-sabotage.

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. This was a mistake. Responding was a mistake. Having friends was a mistake.

Your phone buzzed again—another message from Viktor.

[vik.tor222] You should rest. Big night and all.

[vik.tor222] Goodnight, rockstar.

Your stomach flipped, heat creeping up your neck.

[truly.y/n] goodnight, vik :)

You turned off your phone and threw it onto your nightstand, rolling onto your side with a groan.

Your friends were.. annoying— but you were all like siblings, hence the mutual bullying.

The next morning, you woke up to exactly 53 new messages in the group chat. You stared at the notification in pure dread before finally tapping on it.

[powpow] GOOD MORNING STARSHINE THE EARTH SAYS HELLOOOOO

[powpow] u guys think y/n dreamt about viktor last night wrong answers only

[ekk0stime] absolutely not who do u think she is?

[ishaq] hell no— she knows a viktor? who the hell is he

[powpow] LMAOOAOA Y/N CONFIRM OR DENY

[powpow] HELLO????

[powpow] I KNOW UR AWAKE.

[ekk0stime] what if viktor was their first thought when they woke up too.

[ishaq] oh, they definitely checked their phone hoping for another text from him.

[powpow] AWWW THAT’S SO CUTE

You groaned, rubbing your hands down your face. These people were your friends—allegedly.

[truly.y/n] you guys need hobbies.

[powpow] we do. it’s bullying u.

[ekk0stime] it’s a full-time job actually.

[ishaq] benefits are great.

You were about to fire back something equally stupid when a private message popped up.

Viktor.

[vik.tor222] Morning, rockstar. :)

You blinked at the screen, suddenly feeling way too aware of yourself. Why was that the first thing you saw today? And why did it make your stomach do a weird little flip?

[truly.y/n] morning, viktor!!

Your group chat was still blowing up, but you ignored it. Instead, you stared at your phone, waiting to see if Viktor would say anything else.

And then—

[vik.tor222] Are you free tonight?

Your brain short-circuited.

You glanced at Viktor's message one last time before typing back.

[truly.y/n] I actually have plans tonight. Band sleepover

You waited for his response, but it was a little too long for your liking, and you started second-guessing yourself. Was that a weird thing to say? Should you have said something else?

Before you could overthink too much, his message came through.

[vik.tor222] Sounds like a fun time. I hope everything goes smoothly tonight.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you quickly typed back.

[truly.y/n] Thanks! It’ll be good, I’m sure.——————————————————————————You tossed your phone on your bed and grabbed a jacket, already hearing the excitement building outside your room. Powder, Ekko, and Isha were probably already messing around— making the other people in your block feel like kicking their asses.

As you left your room, the sounds of your bandmates filled the air, laughter echoing from outside your dorm

“Finally,” Powder called out as soon as she saw you, waving bowling tickets in the air. “We thought you were ditching us or something.”

“Right, I’m ready to go, come on— i’ll be driving so help yourself to whatever you want when we get there.” You said, plopping down into the drivers seat before driving off, radio on blast as you started your 15 minute journey to the game center.

Soon laughter filled the air as everyone tried to outdo each other with strikes, spares, and ridiculous celebratory dances after each turn. “Watch and learn, I’m about to get a strike,” Powder declared, only to knock down just three pins. You laughed, offering her a playful round of applause.

Isha made a dramatic bow after her perfect strike. "I’m the undisputed champion of this group." She signed, putting a peace sign before sitting down at the booth to eat some of the chips you bought. Ekko rolled his eyes after knocking down a solid seven pins. "Don't forget, I'm also winning in the high score department." As the game continued, you found yourself enjoying the distractions. It was good to have moments like this, to just not think too much about everything.

By the time the game ended, everyone was feeling a bit more relaxed, though the chatter about Viktor never quite stopped.

As you all packed up to leave the bowling alley, Powder was grinning. “I think we should have a rematch next week, but I’ll let you all catch up to my skills first.” Ekko raised an eyebrow. "Catch up? You just got lucky." "Uh-huh," Powder teased, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I’m basically the bowling queen." Isha gave you a look as you all walked out to the car. "So, is this the night we hear about your secret texts with Viktor? Or are they still off-limits?" Powder asked, throwing an arm over your shoulder. You groaned. "Can we please talk about something else for once?" "Not a chance," Ekko chimed in, “You know we’re all dying to hear how you really feel about him." You threw your hands up in mock surrender. "Fine. I’ll tell you everything, but later.” Everyone agreed— but you did earn a few groans before continuing your night.

When you finally made it to Ekko’s dorm, you were relieved to have a chance to relax. As everyone filed in, you grabbed snacks and drinks and settled on the couch. “Alright,” Ekko said, popping open a soda and leaning back. “Movie time” You groaned dramatically, “But you always pick the worst rom-coms ever, let Isha pick she always picks the good shit.” Ekko flips you off, grumbling before sitting down on the coach.

After a few moments of silence once the movie credits came rolling in, Powder leaned in with that recognisable mischievous grin. “Alright, no more dancing around it. Tell us what Viktor said. I need the full rundown.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of their anticipation, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. You knew you wouldn’t get out of this without giving them some details. Isha leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement. “We promise, no freakouts. Just the details.” She signed and sat right next to you, throwing her legs over your lap to scoot closer so she could see your phone screen which contained all the messages they’ve been dying to see.

You let them scroll through the messages, earning some dramatic gasps and ‘no way’s’ as they handed you the phone back. Of course, Powder spoke up first; “Yeah that’s definitely not a ‘we’re just friends’ type of message.” She said, pointing out several of the messages she deemed fit to that description— Ekko and Isha agreeing. You tried to brush it off, but your heart fluttered at the memory of his words. “It’s just polite. Nothing more.”

“Sure,” Ekko chimed in, raising an eyebrow. “I definitely text my friends good morning texts, ask to meet her alone without her very close group of friends, ask if she’s free the day after that and give her cute little nicknames.” He said very obviously with sarcasm laced in his voice.

The room went quiet for a second. Isha was the first to say something, her expression filled with intrigue. “Hold up. So, he asked if you were free tonight? Like, right now?” “Yeah, but I told him I had plans,” you said, looking at them sheepishly. “I have this sleepover with you guys, so I couldn’t—” you gestured toward them, “—ditch you.”

Powder raised her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, fair, I’d be mad if you ditched us for Viktor. But still... that’s.. something.” You groaned and sank back into the couch, realizing you’d just confirmed all their suspicions. “I don’t know, alright? It’s not that deep. He’s just... being nice.” Ekko shook his head, smiling. “Nah, that’s more than being nice. He’s interested. You’d be crazy to think otherwise.” Isha nodded, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Yeah, he’s not texting you like that unless he really wants you.”

“Ugh,” you groaned again, covering your face with your hands. “Why do you guys have to make this such a big deal?” Powder laughed, slinging an arm around you. “Because, Y/N, it’s adorable and we’re here for it. Also, you’re totally not fooling us. There’s definitely something going on.” You shook your head but couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your face. Maybe they were right. Maybe there was something more to all of this. But you weren’t ready to dive into that just yet.

“Alright, enough about Viktor,” you said, sitting up straight. “Let’s just focus on having fun tonight, yeah? No more talking about him.” “Sure, sure,” Powder said with a grin. “But tomorrow you need to text him— and let us help you out. You’ve been warned.” You laughed, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease as your friends went back to teasing you in the most ridiculous ways. For tonight, though, you were content. You had your friends, a whole sleepover ahead of you, and the feeling of something new and exciting with Viktor still lingering in the back of your mind. You were okay with that—at least for now.

Viktor sat back in his chair, working on an essay the professor handed out two days ago. He let his friends tag along to the library with him so he had some sort of company— and partially because Jayce practically begged to come with.

Vi leaned forward with a grin that Viktor knew was both teasing and knowing. “Come on, Viktor. What’s going on with you and Y/N? There’s definitely some sparks between you too.” He carefully avoided her gaze, taking a long sip of his coffee, as if it would ground him. “There’s nothing going on. We’re just—getting to know each other.” The words felt rehearsed even as they left his mouth. Jayce raised an eyebrow, his attention now fully on Viktor. “You sure? You’ve been acting differently. You’ve never really been one for.. opening up to people.” Viktor remained calm, though his pulse quickened. "I’m still me, Jayce," he said, his voice a little too smooth. "Nothing’s changed."

Mel, who had been watching him quietly, folded her arms and spoke in a voice that was always direct. “You’re not fooling anyone, Viktor. Something’s different. I can tell by the way you’ve been acting around her.”

Viktor’s eyes flickered to her, his usual composure slipping just slightly. “I don’t think you understand,” he replied softly, his tone serious. “I’m not looking for anything complicated. I’m just.. not ready to go down that road. Not yet.”

“Alright. I won’t pressure you. But you’ve got to admit... there’s something there.” Vi said with a awkward smile, sensing the slight tension of the topic. Viktor didn’t answer right away, and for a moment, the conversation seemed to lull. He couldn’t really ignore the way Y/N made him feel—how she’d slipped into his life so effortlessly, how easy it was to be around her. But it was still too new. They’d known each other for less than a month. It felt too soon to even consider anything beyond what it was now.

Finally, after a long pause, Viktor sighed and set his coffee down, his fingers gripping the edge of the table with a tension that betrayed his calm exterior. “Fine,” he said, his voice lower now, quieter. “I do feel something. I won’t deny it.” He hesitated before continuing, his tone thoughtful, almost guarded. “But it’s too soon. We’ve barely known each other for a month. I’m not ready to rush into anything.”

The room fell quiet, the others processing his admission. Vi gave him a knowing look, but she didn’t press him further.

Mel spoke up after a bit, her tone more measured than usual. “It’s understandable, Viktor. Sometimes the timing just isn’t right. But don’t let fear of moving too fast hold you back, either. Whatever happens, happens. Just don’t shut yourself off completely.”Viktor nodded, the weight of their words settling on him. “I’m not shutting myself off,” he muttered, but his voice was softer now, almost to himself. “I just don’t want to move too fast. I need time to figure things out.” Jayce leaned back, crossing his arms with a satisfied grin. “Hey, at least you’re being honest with yourself. That’s a start.” Viktor gave a slight smile but didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned his attention to the books in front of him, the conversation lingering in the air between them.

For now, he’d keep his feelings close. But somewhere deep down, he knew that whatever happened with Y/N, it wouldn’t be so easily ignored.

© just1cefor4ll— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

taglist: @skullmvncher @startingtoloveyou @lolixsstuff @astarionapologist @erica2024

[diekleinesuesse]

Being best friends with Felix:

Being best friends with Felix would be an absolute dream. It wouldn’t just be about the fun, bright moments though there would be plenty of those. It would also be about the quiet, comforting presence he brings, the way he makes life feel a little warmer, a little softer, even on the hardest days.

The Beginning of the Friendship

At first, Felix might be a little shy, especially if he doesn’t know you well yet. He’d be polite, kind, and considerate, but there would be a sense of caution until he starts feeling comfortable. Once that happens, it’s over for you. He’s going to attach himself to you like a koala and never let go.

Felix is the type of person who forms deep emotional connections, so becoming his best friend wouldn’t be a casual thing. He’d be all in investing his time, his love, and his energy into making sure you feel valued. He’d remember the little things you like, send you pictures of random things that remind him of you, and always check in to see how your day is going.

The Daily Life of Being Felix’s Best Friend

Felix is someone who thrives on making others happy, so expect a lot of cute gestures. If he hears you had a bad day, he’s immediately showing up with your favorite snack, a playlist of songs to cheer you up, and probably a warm hug. He loves baking, so you’d get to try all his homemade treats first, whether they’re perfect or a complete disaster.

“Try this one! I think I messed up the sugar, but it’s still edible, right?” he’d say, watching you closely as you take a bite. If you pretend it’s bad just to mess with him, he’d dramatically gasp and pretend to cry.

Felix would be the type of best friend who constantly hypes you up. If you’re feeling insecure, he’d shut that down real quick.

“What do you mean you’re not good enough? Do I need to fight you? Because I will,” he’d say, crossing his arms, his freckles scrunching up as he frowns.

But more than anything, he’d make sure you know how much you mean to him.

The Chaos of the Sunshine Energy

Felix has a soft, comforting side, but let’s not forget he’s also chaotic. If you’re his best friend, you’re not just getting cozy, warm Felix; you’re also getting the Felix that dances like a maniac to random music, who suddenly starts singing in a deep voice just to freak people out, and who laughs so hard at dumb jokes that he ends up on the floor.

“Did you see that meme I sent you at 3 AM?” he’d ask, as if that were a normal thing to do.

“You mean the one with the cat wearing sunglasses and breakdancing? Yes, Felix. I saw it.”

“And?”

“It changed my life.”

Felix would 100% drag you into random challenges, whether it’s trying to learn an impossible TikTok dance, doing “rock, paper, scissors” with the punishment of eating something disgusting, or making an overly dramatic music video to a song you both love.

And if you ever prank him? Oh, he’s coming for revenge. Be prepared for unexpected jump scares, your phone mysteriously disappearing, or waking up to find a ridiculous filter added to all your photos.

The Deep Conversations

For all the silliness, Felix is also incredibly introspective and deep. He’s not afraid to have emotional conversations, and if something is bothering you, he’d be the first to notice.

“Talk to me,” he’d say, voice gentle, sitting next to you even if you don’t feel like speaking.

He wouldn’t force you to open up, but he’d make sure you knew he was there. And if you ever needed to cry? Felix would let you, holding your hand or hugging you tightly, whispering soft reassurances.

He’d open up to you, too about his struggles, his fears, his dreams. And when he does, you’d realize that for all his sunshine and warmth, Felix also carries a lot on his shoulders.

“I just want to make people happy,” he’d admit. “But sometimes, I wonder if I’m enough.”

And that’s when you’d remind him, just like he always reminds you, that he is more than enough.

The Protective Side of Felix

Felix is a softie, but don’t let that fool you he’s also fiercely protective. If someone ever upsets you, he’d be ready to throw hands.

“Do I need to go talk to them? Because I will,” he’d say, eyebrows furrowed.

If you were nervous about something like an important event or a big decision he’d be right by your side, holding your hand (literally or metaphorically) and telling you you’ve got this.

Felix wouldn’t let anyone disrespect you, not even yourself. If he hears you being too hard on yourself, he’ll shut it down immediately.

“Hey. My best friend is amazing, and if they don’t see that, then they don’t deserve to be around you.”

Spending Time with Stray Kids

Being Felix’s best friend would also mean getting close to the other Stray Kids members. They’d tease Felix endlessly about how much he talks about you.

“Felix, do you have any friends besides [Your Name]?” Han would joke.

“Nope,” Felix would reply shamelessly.

The members would treat you like family, and Felix would love having you around during their schedules. You’d get to watch their rehearsals, joke around with them backstage, and be part of the fun.

And let’s not forget game nights at the dorm. Felix would absolutely drag you into Mario Kart battles, Just Dance competitions, and chaotic board games. If you beat him, he’d dramatically fall to the floor, claiming he’s been betrayed.

A Forever Friendship

At the end of the day, being best friends with Felix wouldn’t just be about the fun and chaos. It would be about unconditional love, support, and knowing that no matter what happens, you have someone who will always be there for you.

He’d be the kind of best friend who never lets you forget your worth, who makes life feel like an adventure, and who reminds you that even in the darkest times, there’s always light.

Because that’s who Felix is. A sunshine personified, a best friend anyone would be lucky to have.

[lieutenantbatshit]

CHAPTER 06 - once you go in, there's no turning back (hwang in ho x reader)

>> MASTERLIST

previous chapter | next chapter

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You focused your gaze on the line in front of you as you await your turn. You felt your stomach grumble a bit, an indication that you were already hungry. You've been so caught up with what's happening in this hellhole that it didn't cross your mind that you needed food. You wished for the food to be good, something nutritious at least. If they were going to let you compete on these games, they might as well at least give you a fulfilling food to prepare you.

The guards hand you a gold, rectangular lunch box and a bottled water. You reached for it, turning your back from the guards as you made your way towards 456's group, who were sitting on the staircase near their self-assigned beds. You had a lot of questions on your mind, especially with why he approached you in the club, and about being the sole winner years ago. You thought it may be a bit bold and abrupt to ask such a traumatizing event, but your gut was telling you to at least ask, to know what was out there.

If he was indeed part of the games back then, he would probably know the next games.

"Ahjussi," you spoke up, earning a glance from 456. You seemed to have interrupted his conversation with player 390. You noticed 456 eyeing your patch, a small smile forming his lips as he saw the X patch. "Do you remember me?"

456, clearly confused, eyed you as if trying to remember you. 390 also shot you a confused look. "I'm sorry, miss. Do we know you?"

You ignored 390, feeling a bit of annoyance as you were talking to 456, not him. 456 seemed to soften his expression as he spoke, "Oh, have we met before?"

"You approached me in the club," you explained. "Then I found you here. Were you looking for something else?"

456 nodded, now remembering. "Ah, yeah I remember," he gave you a reassuring smile, somewhat apologetic. "I'm sorry about that, miss. I was looking for someone else at that time."

"Were you also picked up in the club by these... people?" You motioned your head towards the guards. He nodded, reluctantly meeting your gaze. Just as when you were about to speak again, you heard your stomach grumble.

456 and 390 seemed to hear it, as 390 moved himself and motioned for a space for you to sit. "Oh, you may as well eat with us, miss."

You gave 390 a bow, taking the space beside him. You fixed yourself up as you opened your lunchbox, seeing a good set of rice meal. This was the kind of meal your mother used to make for you back then, a small smile forming your lips as you remember it. At least, there was something comforting in this place, making you remember your mother.

"I don't know about you, but that 20 million wouldn't even cover my interest," 390 said, munching on his food. You noticed 456 staring into space, his expression dark as if he was thinking hard. He didn't bother opening his food. "If we play just one more game..."

"Jung-bae," 456 replied coldly. So, 390's name was Jung-bae, you figured. "Last time I was here, someone said the exact same thing. And in the end, the person died here."

You froze as you took a spoonful of your food to your mouth, slowly eyeing 456. You were correct, you figured only one person can win the total grand prize. There was no way you would make it out here alive.

"Help us then, sir," you looked up and saw Player 001, a crowd of players following him from behind. He kept his gaze to 456, his expression somewhat comforting yet... something. "I pressed the O button because of you. Honestly, I was so scared. I wanted to quit and leave, but you made me think maybe I could just play one more game."

As much as the darkness prevailed in this place, you knew to your gut that he was right. You knew deep inside you that 456 may have wanted to save everyone, stating that he was a winner back then and its consequences of being one. Though the fact that he survived may be a motivation for the others to complete and win the games. The system, not seemingly rigged, was a calculated and precise one.

"Sir," you spoke, the attention turning to you as they waited for you to continue. You felt each eye on you, making you a bit conscious but continued to speak. 456 looked at you, seemingly surprised. "You know which game is next, don't you?"

"That's right," Jung-bae said, putting his food down. "You're a previous winner, so you should know." He moved his face near 456, his question almost a whisper but still loud enough to hear. "What are we playing next?"

456 sighed softly. "The second game was Dalgona."

You heard the bed frame creak from your upper left, seeing a man who continued to eat on his lunch. He bent down a bit, earning the attention of the small crowd you were in. You saw his number, Player 388. "Dalgona? The sugar candy with a shape you can carve out?"

456 nodded. "That's right, we had to choose one of four shapes and carve it out."

You stayed silent as you continued to eat, enjoying the meal despite the commotion around you. You felt Jung-bae move as he positioned himself closer to 456. "Four shapes? Which was the easiest one?"

"Triangle."

"Which was the hardest one?"

"Umbrella."

"Umbrella?" You exclaimed, a bit of rice splashing from your mouth. You quickly covered your mouth, almost choking. You bowed to everyone and apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. So I'm assuming the ones who picked umbrella had no little chance to survive?"

You grabbed your bottle of water as you coughed a bit, trying to calm yourself down. Then, 001 spoke up, the amusement in his expression evident. "Those unlucky bastards must have bitten the dust."

You saw 456 glare at 001 for a bit. You grimaced, thinking maybe 456 chose umbrella last time. You noticed 456 raise an eyebrow but looked away, sighing deeply.

"So, that means we should all just pick triangle," 388 said. "Everyone could probably pass the round."

Player 100 advanced in front, hushing the crowd. "If all 365 of us survive, the prize money won't go up at all. Then we'll have risked our lives again for nothing."

You looked at 100 in disbelief. You couldn't believe how he could think of such, so hungry for money. It added to more to your disgust when you hear the others agree, your thoughts being proven correct again on human greed.

"Listen," 100 whispered. "We should probably keep this information to ourselves. What do you say?" He looked at 001, as if waiting for him to agree. For a brief moment, you saw 001's eyes glance at you. It was so brief that you could miss it in the blink of an eye, but you knew he did.

"We can't do that," 456 retorted, the crowd's silent cheers fading. "I'm telling you this to save everyone's lives. If it's confirmed that the next game is Dalgona, I'm going to tell everyone what I know."

100 only scoffed, turning his back to 456 and walked away, shaking his head in disbelief as he did so. You noticed 001's eyes fixed on 456, as if trying to see his next moves were. You can't help but look at him, his hair pushed down perfectly neat, his eyes holding an emotion you couldn't decipher, his posture composed, opposite to the other players in this room.

001 looked away, his chest heaved as if he took a deep breath. The other players grumbled as they followed 100. The area seemed to be less suffocating as it is, when you decided to speak up again. "What if the games have changed since you won, sir?"

456 shot you a look. In your peripheral vision, you saw 001 look at you. "What do you mean?"

"They said the players are given a new advantage where we could go home and share the accumulated prize money," you explained. "It's a new advantage. I'm assuming in the past game you were in, voting for the games to end will leave you with nothing, is that right?"

456 nodded. You looked at Jung-bae who seemed to consider your words. While 001 kept his eyes on you, listening intently as you analyze the situation.

"They could change the games this time, or every season if they do that," you continued. "We can't be sure that Dalgona would be next."

"She's right," Jung-bae said as he nodded. "They probably know that the previous winner is with us."

You nodded back in agreement. "They have our information, for sure. No one's going to walk out of here with that prize money when someone like you could easily give us information on the new games. In every game, there are rules. One that must be fair and equal for everyone."

You looked at 001, who seemed to be amused with your words, though you could see how he was trying to hide it. You didn't realize how both of you were staring at each other for a minute, only for him to look away and turn his gaze to 456. "May I ask you something?" He sat down near you, feeling your knees brush against his back. "Why did you come back to this place? You said you won and made it out. Then you must've received 45.6 billion." You thought he stopped there, but he continued again. "Did you spend it all?"

"That money doesn't belong to me," 456 said, his tone assertive. "It's blood money for the people who died here." He looked up and pointed at the piggy bank. "The same goes for the money up there."

You felt 001 move his body a bit as you moved your knees away a bit, giving him room to sit back. "It's not like you killed those people, and saving that money won't bring them back to life."

You thinned your lips, the feeling of empathy washing over you as you imagine the lives taken in this place. You were a bit taken aback when you see 456 moving his body near 001, who seemed to hold a tense look in his eyes, filled with frustration. "If you had pressed X, everyone here would've made it out alive."

001 paused, seemingly absorbing his words. You stared at him as he continued to speak, feeling the tension between the two. "That's right, I was the last person to press the O button. But there were more 182 people who chose to stay."

"And there were 182 other people who chose to leave," you muttered, earning a look from 001 in front of you. His eyes stared at you intently, sensing the darkness behind it. You almost regretted speaking, but you couldn't help but retort. As much as you agreed with him, you still held hope that O team would change their minds.

001 didn't seem fazed. In fact, he was able to choose his words carefully. "Let's say, I pressed X and we all left. Would everyone have been happy?" He stated, his tone commanding but determined to make a point. "Do you think if they ran into me later, they'd thank me for saving their lives and tell me they're happy now?" He tilted his head on to you, trying to get an answer from you. You only looked at him sternly, the tension now between the two of you. You clenched your jaw, feeling your heart beat faster through your chest.

Honestly, you didn't know what to say. You never lived a day in poverty, you never felt the need of being in debt nor having to borrow money so you could sustain your needs. If you think about it, you've been risking your life for nothing alongside the other players. You had no place in the game, what more of a purpose? You were simply there for the thrill of it, nothing less, and nothing more. You were set for life, only to throw yourself in this pathetic, deadly situation with the others.

Winning the prize money would grant you nothing. It would just make your bank account accumulate more fortune, but nothing in your life would change at all. You didn't want to admit it to them, but you also didn't want to lose the argument. If you were going to die at this place, you could at least make your stay memorable.

"All right," Jung-bae spoke up, enough to snap you away from your thoughts. "There's no point in placing blame now. You know the saying, a widow understands a widower best." Jung-bae chuckled uncomfortably, trying to somehow ease the tension. "Let's just focus on tomorrow's game okay? He has won all these games before. If we stick together, we'll have nothing to worry about."

"That's right, sirs," the man from your upper left dropped down, turning to face the three of you. "We have to stick together. I'll be with you all the way."

"Who are you?" Jung-bae asked, looking at Player 388.

"I'm Dae-ho. Kang Dae-ho," Dae-ho reached out his hand in attempt to shake Jung-bae's, only to be ignored by him.

You started to space out, still feeling the tension between you and 001. You felt your ego crush a bit, having to lose an argument with him. In all your life, especially in your marketing career, you dominated the industry. You were always ahead of everything, calculating every next move for your plans to work. You worked you way through sales, it's no wonder how your boss promoted you to a higher position, putting his trust into you as their company's percentage continuously goes up, thanks to your help.

001 only proceeded to eat his food, his gaze not leaving you. 456 and Jung-bae turned their attention to Dae-ho, who introduced himself as a former Marine. You stared into space but felt 001's eyes on you. At this point, you started to brace yourself for the next games. You didn't know who he was, what he was capable of. He may remind you of In-ho, but the In-ho you knew would never believe in such a statement that 001 said.

As you finished your food, you chugged on your bottled water. It was a fulfilling meal, at least. You laid back a bit, trying to savor the meal you just had. You almost daydreamed, hoping to get out of this place as soon as possible so you could enjoy more of the meal you just ate.

You jolted in surprise when you heard a loud thud on the ground, seeing 230 beat Myung-gi, along 124. They clearly had no manners, fighting in the middle of meal time. You wished for a guard to come in and stop the two, but they stood still with their guns, letting the commotion continue.

You saw 001 stand up as he brushed Jung-bae and Dae-ho aside, speaking up. "Boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime?" He walked towards 230, whose name you heard was Thanos. "No fights during mealtime. There are elders present. Mind your manners."

You looked intently to 001. For a tensed situation as this, his posture remained composed. He looked at Thanos sternly as he continued to speak. "And two against one? Aren't you embarrassed?"

Thanos faced him, eyeing him from up and down as if trying to size him up. He started to walk up to 001, as 124 followed. "You're lecturing me when you ended up in this shithole too?" Thanos scoffed. "Dude, stop running your mouth and take care of your own damn kids."

You could see 001's fist clench, staring darkly to Thanos. Though he didn't flinch as Thanos moved crudely, trying to distract him. 001 tilted his head. "What did you just say?"

Thanos moved closer to 001, eyeing him. "I said save the lecture for your own damn kids."

In just a snap, you let out a gasp as you see 001 grab Thanos by the neck, earning a grunt from him. 124 marched to 001, only to be kicked in the leg by him and kicked him away, leaving 124 groan to the ground.

Thanos seemed to let go from 001's grip, attempting to advance towards 001 to place his fist on to him, only for 001 to duck and punch Thanos on his stomach, earning a groan from him. Thanos raised his hand up but 001 relentlessly twists his arm, his bones cracking as he fell to the ground. 001, seemingly unfazed, kicked him some more.

Thanos stayed on the ground as 001 grabbed his neck, gripping it with his other fist in the air. You stood up, catching more sight of the commotion. You watched as 001's eyes darkened, as if he could break Thanos in a snap. "I'm sorry...." Thanos choked. "Please..."

You noticed 001 charge his fist, then his eyes darted on you, his other hand still gripping Thanos' throat. Your eyes widened, your heart about to burst to your chest. You couldn't but feel shivers down your spine, wondering why he was looking at you as 001 did so. Was he threatening you? Was he trying to prove a point?

One thing's for sure - you didn't want to be on the other end of his hand. There was something dangerous to this man, something deeper than what you see from him right now.

"Let me go..." Thanos begged, his voice starting to strain. 001's eyes slowly softened, letting his grip go, his eyes still on you.

You looked away, not wanting to meet his gaze anymore. You heard the sound of claps and people cheering, but you didn't join them. If anything, you felt your life was in danger. Not because of the games, but how 001 was invested in you, or what seemed to be.

"Ahjussi," you approached 456. "Will it be okay to join your group?"

456 nodded, immediately motioning a space on the bed near him. "Yes, yes. Also," 456 sighed softly. "Call me Gi-hun."

"Gi-hun," you said, a small smile forming your lips. "Thank you. I'm Y/N."

Gi-hun returned your smile, letting you take over the space for you to make yourself comfortable. You heard 001's footsteps approaching, purposely averting your gaze. If there's anything, you needed to survive in this place, so steering clear of 001 could somehow help you.

Yet you couldn't deny the charm he had. As much as you wanted to distance yourself from him, he held his gaze to you that was mixed with curiosity and... longing. Deep inside you, you enjoy the thrill of it, wanting to know more about 001. He reminded you of In-ho, the way he carries himself around the place.

You tucked yourself under the blanket as you notice the other players fixing their beds. In a few hours, lights would be out.

----

"Honey, I'm sorry..." You heard Jung-bae say, his voice drooling as he slept.

You couldn't sleep. Sure, your eyes were closed but you just couldn't fall asleep. You tried counting sheeps, the alphabet, from 1 to 100, but your senses stayed awake.

The lights in dorm were dimmed, the piggy bank with its money shone its light to the room, giving it a warm touch to the room. The lights for X and O shone through the ground. In a few minutes, the lights would be out. Though you wanted to sleep, but your mind didn't want to.

You figured it was just the tension filled in the room as everyone settled on their beds, trying to get some sleep. While some players still chatted with each other, exchanging names and getting to know each other's backstories. You sighed as you heard some of them, hearing how some decided to play to pay for their child's treatment, gambling addiction, got scammed, didn't get their investment back, and so many more. Your heart felt heavy as you listened to their stories, clutching your chest as a sign of empathy.

You heard footsteps approaching near you. You were at the top of the bunk bed, with Gi-hun down you. You looked down for a bit and saw 001, looking at Gi-hun, his face softened this time.

"Excuse me," 001 said, his voice low. "If you're still up, can we have a little talk?"

You felt movement at the bottom, sensing Gi-hun to sit right up. 001 sat on the staircase near Gi-hun. "Sure," you hear Gi-hun say.

You laid back down, trying not to get caught to eavesdrop. You closed your eyes, trying to catch some sleep, but you couldn't help but hear them. "I think I was out of line before. I'd like to apologize," 001 said, his tone soft and sincere this time. "I'm sorry."

"No, that's okay," Gi-hun replied, as if reassuring the latter. "I laid all the blame on you. I was out of line."

You thinned your lips, realizing how Gi-hun could be so nice. As much as you didn't want to trust people in this place, you can't help but feel a sense of trust and hope for Gi-hun. Though for 001, you were still on guard, in case something happens. You couldn't trust someone who could easily grab someone by the throat, almost killing them.

You heard 001 take a deep breath, sighing heavily. This time, his voice held a strain, his vulnerability showing. "My wife is very sick. She has acute cirrhosis. She needs a liver transplant."

You felt your heart drop a bit, kind of hating yourself for it. An unfamiliar feeling washed over you, your emotions debating as it confused you, wondering why you felt this way.

"But when she was going through the tests, we found out she was pregnant," 001 paused, his voice cracking. You couldn't help but peek, turning your head over and saw tears forming in his eyes. "The doctor suggested a termination, but she won't listen. Says she'll give birth even if it kills her."

You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to make sense of his story. You remember the story, seemingly familiar to you.

No, it can't be.

"You see, my wife is stubborn. I've never been able to change her mind about anything. We were struggling to find a donor, and her condition was getting worse," 001 paused for a bit before continuing. "I borrowed as much money as I could, but it still wasn't enough. I was desperate. Then, one of my oldest vendors heard about my situation and offered to help. So, I borrowed money from them. But people saw it as a bribe, and I got fired from my job."

"His wife passed due to a liver failure, or something like that," Jun-ho said, as you opened your mouth in shock. "She was pregnant, noona. Hyung took on a bribe in exchange for his wife's liver transplant, but by the time he came back, she was already gone."

"Where did he go?" You asked Jun-ho, who averted your gaze, his eyes sternly looking into space.

He took a while to answer, his eyes fixed away from you. You put your hand to your mouth, shocked on what you just knew about In-ho. In-ho, who always put others first before himself, the one who saved and comforted you whenever you scratched your knee as you ran down the street, the one who gave you a paper ring.

You looked through your wallet and grabbed the paper ring inserted along your cards, seeing In-ho's handwriting as you unfolded it. There it wrote, "Always and in all ways."

"Always and in all ways," you muttered under your breath. You sat up abruptly, hearing the bed creak a bit. Your eyes widened, your breath hitching as you slowly piece things together, one-by-one.

"I had devoted my entire youth to it. These games were my last hope. I get it. I know what you were trying to say, Mr. 456. What that money represents. But I... I really need that money, even if it's blood money. I need that money..."

A tear fell to your cheek, your heart beating fast as you slowly look down, seeing the man down there as his lips trembled, breaking down.

"...to save my wife and our child," he looked up, staring at the piggy bank. He pressed his lips together, trying to hold his tears back. Then, he looked down, seeing the tears flow to his cheek.

You sniffed, wiping your tears away. Though it was bittersweet to feel happy knowing that you've found In-ho here. You weren't sure if he remembered you, but you hope that even in the slightest, he would. And you were going to make sure of that.

"In-ho..." you whispered, yet you noticed his face slowly looking up to you, his eyes shocked. You wanted to go down there and hold him in your arms. You wanted to tell him you were back for good, and that you're never leaving again.

He heard you. He wouldn't be looking up to you if he didn't. Yet his stare fixed on you, as if he didn't know what to feel. You couldn't tell what his eyes told you, but one thing's for sure, he was surprised. You only gave him a smile and a little wave. You laid back down, turning on the other side as you feel the sleep catching on to you, finally closing your eyes.

Although you couldn't help but see some loopholes in his story. His wife already passed, why was he talking to her in present tense? Something seemed to be going on, as if he had to keep a certain facade. You thought of all the possibilities, but you were too blinded with the happiness that you remembered In-ho, excited for the next day to come.

----

A/N: And sooo, here it is! I'm trying to update as fast as I can so you guys wouldn't wait for too long. I understand the feeling of having to wait a few days before the next chapter comes haha. I'm also thinking of creating a playlist for this series since I listen to music as I write, some of them are based on some songs 😄 Let me know if you want me to create a playlist for this series and I'll have it ready in the next few days. 😅 Feel free to leave out your thoughts here, and I'll gladly interact with each and everyone of you. 🫶

Don't forget to leave a comment in this post to be tagged on the next chapter! ✨

previous chapter | next chapter

>> MASTERLIST

TAGS: @machipyun @love-leez @enzosluvr @amber-content @kandierteveilchen @butterfly-lover @1nterstellarcha0s @squidgame-lover001  (p.s. if i forget to tag you, please let me know)

[typicalopposite]

🥟 dumplings please! 🛎️

Well this got long and angsty… BUT it will have a part two in another person’s ask (hint: it’s Hannah’s) later 🙂‍↕️😉

This is a bad idea… that is probably going to result in an equally bad, impulsive idea. Buck takes a deep breath and walks into the bar anyway. 

“Thank God!” Chimney must have been watching the door for him to walk in because he spots Buck instantly and hurries over to him. “You gotta do something,” he continues, grabbing Buck’s arm and tugging him through the crowd, towards the front. 

“I don’t understand why it has to be me…” Buck mumbles; not that he wants it to be anyone else. It’s just that a few days ago everyone was actively trying to stop Buck from contacting Tommy, now they are asking him to confront Tommy in person. 

“Because you’re the only one who might be able to actually get through to him…” Chimney replies, and stops in front of their booth. “Okay I got him.” The rest of his team collectively sigh in relief. Buck sighs in annoyance to their relief. They had invited him to come along, but he knew Tommy and the 217 frequented the bar too— oftentimes he would abandon his own team to come sit with Buck and the 118 when they’d arrive— he wasn’t taking the chance. So much for that well thought out plan.

“So… what exactly am I supposed to do here?” Buck asks, he looks around but doesn’t even see a trace of Tommy anywhere in the bar. 

“He’s up next,” Chimney says, looking horrified. “Buck his reputation will never recover from this, you have to stop him.” 

“Stop him from wh—” 

Buck gets interrupted by a loud speaker screech and when he looks towards the sound he finally sees Tommy. He is standing beside the karaoke machine, swaying and teetering nearly over before catching his balance. He looks so lost— so sad, and it makes Buck’s heart ache. 

But he’s sad too, and— and Tommy is the reason he is sad. So when Tommy’s head finally lifts up and looks towards the 118’s booth, and he spots Buck staring back; Buck doesn’t react. When a shocked look crosses Tommy’s face but then gives way for a soft smile; he gives a little wave… and Buck doesn’t react to that either. 

“What are you waiting for!?” Chimney hisses, pushing Buck towards the front of the bar. “Go say something.”

“No… if— if I was ever going to try to talk to him—” Buck argues. “—I’m not doing it while he’s drunk.” 

“Buck! That’s the best time to do it!” 

“That makes no sense!?”

Hen sighs. “With Tommy… it actually does. He becomes an open book when he’s drunk.”

Buck rolls his eyes, unwilling to hear them out when they wouldn’t hear him out about how much he missed Tommy, how desperate he was to hear from him.

At the stage Tommy clears his throat. “H- Hey… it— it’s me… again.”

“Again?” Buck repeats, confused. 

“This is his fifth time up there,” Chimney explains, abandoning his efforts to get Buck to the stage and plopping down beside Hen. Around them a couple other tables can be heard whispering and snickering while pointing up towards the stage. Buck managed to ignore how it pisses him off to see them make fun of Tommy. 

“So f- for ma’nxt— next song…” Tommy says, swaying around from the motion of turning his head down to the computer to pick a song. “I… I’m g’nna sss— ssss— s- sing directly to my d- my du— my dumpling.” He looks back at Buck and winks— tries to wink, anyway. It was more of a slow frog blink. More laughter erupts through the bar, but if Tommy notices… it doesn’t sway him at all from finding a song anyway. 

“Oh my god,” Chimney groans, and drops his head down onto his arms. “He’s still saying ‘dumpling’!” 

“Wh- what do you mean, still?” 

“Every song he has chosen has used the word darling in it,” Hen explains. “By the third song— and his fifth whiskey— he just… switched the word and started saying dumpling instead.”

Hello Darlin’ appears on the screen behind him. “Hello Dumplin’,” is what comes out of his mouth. 

Buck stands there, somewhere between entranced in the lyrics (minus the persistent use of the word dumpling instead of darling) and embarrassed on Tommy’s behalf; the whole bar minus one table is openly laughing at him now— and yet he finishes the song. 

“And if you could ever find it in your heart… to forgive me. Come b- *hicup* back dumplin’; I’ll be waitin’ for you…” he says, stumbles and falls backwards. 

In the audience there is no concern at all, very little applause, and a whole lot of laughter. Buck’s feet finally break free from where he had purposefully planted them to the floor, and he rushes up to the stage. Tommy is rubbing at his shoulder where it hit a chair on his way down. He looks up when Buck grabs his arm and his eyes shine— probably due to the fact they are practically floating in alcohol. He smiles, and reaches for Buck’s face, missing a couple times before finally caressing his cheek. “You came back to me, d- dumplin’…” he says… and Buck doesn’t have the heart to say it’s only because he was duped into showing up. 

“Come on,” Buck sighs, and helps him to his feet. “I’ll take you home.” 

He tosses Chimney the keys to Tommy’s truck as they pass, then walks Tommy out to his jeep. Tommy slumps against the door once it's shut, smiling up at Buck through the window; and Buck doesn’t react. He can’t react. Not now… not like this. 

“I’m sorry,” Tommy says after half a car ride in complete silence. Buck is about to tell him it’s fine; that he doesn’t mind giving him a ride. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Evan.” Buck’s throat tightens and he manages a grunt in response. “You— you were everything I ever wanted… and— and I let you go. I wish I hadn’t…” 

So do I… Buck wants to say. He grips the wheel and continues to drive. 

Tommy starts to hum. Then eventually he starts to sing. “You came into my life, little savior… I catch butterflies when you enter… it’s crazy what love can do… Now you got me singing my truth…” Buck sighs, and keeps his eyes on the road. “You bring me Calm in the chaos… When all the odds are against us… You’ll have all my love… I need you to know now…

Oh, my darling, am I falling? I can’t find the words to use… First my heart aches… then my voice breaks… so I had to write it down for you. 

Oh my… d- darling… What you started, feels like I got it all to lose. First the ground shakes, years of mistakes… You’ve given me another life, so I’ll live it for you…”

Tommy goes quiet and Buck doesn’t react. 

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto's First Kiss Chapter 9 Update

Okay so Shoto's First Kiss Chapter 9 is almosttttt done! I've just about finished writing it out but it's gonna need hella edits, so expect it to drop next weekend or Valentine's day weekend? Thanks for your patience here all! It will be a 40-50 page chapter. There's a lot to cover!!!

Posting a snippet of Chapter 9 below as a holdover - the plot is ofc subject to change! But want you to enjoy a lil dramaaaa while you wait! :)

“Well…” Toru says nervously into the phone.

“What?” Hitoshi says blankly, turning to you for an explanation about your friend’s uneasiness with that piece of the plan.

“So. Um. Mineta didn’t volunteer to be our distraction out of the kindness of his heart.” You say awkwardly as Hitoshi’s tired eyes bore into your own. “We promised him that he’d get to kiss me in exchange for his services as bait for Mr. Vlad.”

“Damn. Offering sexual favors in exchange for services rendered? You guys are way more hardcore than I thought.” Hitoshi actually looks impressed. “So hopefully Mineta didn’t say anything about that fun little bargain to Mr. King after he got caught. Sexual Quid Pro Quo is definitely grounds for some kind of legal action or punishment.”

The blood in your veins goes cold. Shit.

“But it was his idea!” Mina shrieks through the phone’s tiny speakers. You wince at the sound. You feel shaky like you might start crying again.

“Yeah but you all agreed to it. And Mineta held up his end of the bargain. This could be really bad if the school found out about it.”

Neito mouths something angrily on the screen and the corner of Hitoshi’s mouth quirks upwards fondly.

“Neito…you’re on mute, babe.” He says in that gravely voice of his.

Monoma quickly unmutes himself and repeats what he was saying:

“But it’s only a kiss! It’s not like we promised Y/N would sleep with him or anything!” He says, gesturing wildly. His face is a bit pink in response to Hitoshi’s using such an unexpected term of endearment.

“It doesn’t matter…you still made a trade of a physical favor for a service. I don’t know what kind of punishment they’d slap you with, but this sort of thing would definitely rub the UA administration the wrong way if they found out about it. Let’s just hope Mineta didn’t say anything too incriminating. I can stop by his dorm and ask him before I got to bed, if you’d like.” Hitoshi smirks. “I think he’s afraid of me, so I’d probably be the best person to do it.”

“Could you, please?” You say in a strained voice. Hitoshi looks over and sees how pale you’ve gone, he awkwardly pats your shoulder in what he must think is a reassuring way.

“Yeah, for sure. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.” He retracts his hand from your shoulder and gives you a thumbs up.

“Alright. I think we’ve mostly got our story straight. Don’t mention the alcohol. Don’t mention me needing to kiss Mineta. Don’t mention Hatsume. Don’t mention Spin The Bottle. Say we wanted to throw a game night to promote unity and bonding between Classes A and B. We good?” You quickly recap, counting off your fingers as you make each statement. “Dang, that’s a lot to keep track of.”

Everyone nods to confirm that they’re aligned (Toru doesn’t say anything to indicate that she’s not aligned, so you assume she’s invisibly nodding).

A message appears at the top of your phone screen from Shoto, a tiny preview of his text reads out in a bubble:

Shoto: You doing alright?

You quickly move to swipe the bubble away, hyperaware that Hitoshi can see any message that flashes across your screen. You quickly remind yourself that it’s not weird for your classmates to check up on you -  you’re one of the party ringmasters, after all! And the message Shoto had sent was completely innocent, so…

Another message from Shoto scrolls across the screen as Toru rattles off a list of questions for Hitoshi to ask Mineta. You try to swipe the message away but you accidentally pull up the text screen over your friend’s FaceTime faces.

Shoto: This sounds awful to say, but getting to sneak away with you to the janitor’s closet almost makes getting caught worth it.  

You swipe desperately to get the text screen to disappear and after a moment succeed. Toru is still speaking, saying something about Hatsume’s drones. You throw a terrified glance at Hitoshi’s direction. He’s looking at you, violet eyes wide with shock. His eyebrows are comically far up his forehead.

Oh yeah, he definitely just got a glance at Shoto’s text.

Oh God. Now he knows.

“Alright, Hagakure.” Hitoshi quickly turns back to the screen and nods in agreement at whatever your friend is saying. His facial expression instantly falls back to neutral –his eyebrows relaxing and his eyes narrowing back to their usual lazy squint. You stare straight ahead and try to keep all of your blood from rushing to your face. You feel hot all over but in a bad way. You don’t know Hitoshi super well, but you know he’s a good person. He wouldn’t spill your biggest secret to the world, right?

Hitoshi seemingly ignores you as he continues talking into the FaceTime. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Alright, I’ll ask him all of that. I think we’re all on the same page – get a good night’s sleep everyone.”

Good nights are exchanged, and one by one your friends drop off the call. Hitoshi clicks off your phone so that the screen goes back. He slowly turns to you, his expression still uncharacteristically surprised.

His voice is as even and measured as ever when he says:

“Holy shit, Y/N. How long have you been fucking Shoto Todoroki?”

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

HAHAHAHAA Okay so yeah that's part of Chapter 9! I'll keep plugging away and hopefully will have it your way soon! For now, here's the rest of the series to catch up on <3

Shoto's First Kiss Series so far:

Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3

Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Part 5: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

Part 6: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 6

Part 7: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 7

Part 8: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 8

XOXO,

Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

P.S. Here's the link to my 🔥Master List! 🔥 I just posted a new story feat. a super hot and mushy Touya Todoroki if you're into that sort of thing: Touya Todoroki: Sexy Uber Driver!? | Touya x Reader AU Imagine 🌶 💕

[wickedpeachie]

Katara tilted her head, watching the way Zuko’s fingers loosened around the handle of the wok, knuckles still tense. She recognized that tension, that weight, she carried it too. The pressure of doing more, of making up for the past, of never feeling like enough, no matter how much you gave. And now, here he was, getting worked up over her skipping a meal. It was almost funny.  “Soooo…. you’re taking personal responsibility for my well-being now?” Her voice came out teasing, light, but there was something else beneath it—something uncertain. She knows he’s right, that more than ever they need to be in fighting shape. Missing meals, sometimes multiple times a day probably wasn’t going to help her. The last thing she wanted to be was a burden. Zuko continues, his tone firm. Her nails dig a little rougher into her palms. Despite everything, despite their history, despite the part of her that still doesn’t fully trust him, he did notice. And it mattered to him. That was… unexpected. Maybe even dangerous that it mattered to her.

“If we’re really doing this—taking care of each other or whatever—then it goes both ways.” Her eyes flickered over him, as if already imagining the fresh bruises and burns he’d no doubt collect from training with Aang. “So if you come back from training looking like you got run over by a sky bison, you come to me. No more acting like you can just walk it off.” She raised a brow, daring him to argue. “Deal?” Katara wasn’t sure what was stranger, that she was making a deal like this at all, or that she was making it with Zuko. Of all people. She had spent so long viewing him as the enemy, the villain in their story, the one she had to keep her guard up against. But now, he was the one worrying if she was eating. He was the one offering to look out for her. And she—well, she was doing the same for him. She should have felt ridiculous, uncomfortable even, but instead, there was something almost... steady about it. Something she didn’t quite have the words for yet. Maybe they were still learning how to trust each other, maybe there was still a hesitance there—but if he could stand in the kitchen, cooking for the group like it was second nature, then maybe this, this, wasn’t so strange after all. Did it lessen the ache in her heart when she thought of the Fire Nation? No. Not one bit. It didn’t quell the anger in her, the knife that twisted in her stomach. The only thing it did help was…separate Zuko from them. That it was possible, he could want all the things he’s saying to her now.

She let out a slow breath, gripping the edge of the counter as she considered him. The way her name slipped off his lips, drawing a quick zap down her spine. “I know,” she said softly. “And we will.” There was no hesitation in her voice, no doubt. There isn't another choice. If they don't stop his father... Zuko wasn’t the same person who had hunted them across the world. He wasn’t that angry, lost boy anymore. He was someone who fought beside them now. Someone who cared. Someone who, despite everything, might tip the scales in this war. Katara hesitated for only a moment, slipping from the counter as she took the spot next to him again, adding, “But you don’t have to do it alone” She shifted slightly, glancing away as she spoke. She was distracting herself, toying with the bowl in her hands. “You don’t have to fix everything by yourself. That’s why we’re together-” It wasn’t just about Zuko, she realized. It was about her, too. About the way she shouldered burdens without thinking, the way she pushed forward as if the world rested on her alone. She flipped the bowl over again, giving him a slight nudge as she scooped the food into her dish. Katara briefly brushed her fingertips over his knuckles, a quick tap, as she muttered "Thanks, Zuko" Turning again back to the other counter.

Katara kept her back to him, pretending to focus on her food even as an odd weight settled in her chest. It was confusing—more than she wanted to admit, that she could stand here, side by side with him, talking about burdens and responsibility as if they were the same. As if she hadn’t spent so long believing he was just another one of those burdens. But now, here they were, making quiet deals about taking care of each other, slipping into something that felt dangerously close to trust. She curled her fingers tighter around her bowl, grounding herself in the warmth of the food, the simplicity of the moment. It shouldn’t feel this complicated. It shouldn’t leave her feeling so unsteady. “Aang is probably waiting for you,” she tossed over her shoulder, hoping her voice didn’t betray the unease curling at the edges of her thoughts. She didn’t wait for his response, just focused on her food, as if that might be enough to keep the rest of her emotions in check.

her  response  leaves  him  flustering,  the  reminder  somewhat  dulling  the  frustration  building  in  him  to  a  calm  ...  with  a  tinge  of  embarrassment.  his  hand  slows,  dampening  his  sharp  movements  into  something  less  tense.  she'd  been  right,  of  course,  it's  not  completely  unreasonable  for  Katara  not  to  think  to  rely  on  him  in  that  way.  why  would  she?  he'd  betrayed  her  and  he  is  still  groveling  to  earn  back  her  trust.  but  still  ...  would  it  have  been  so  hard  for  her  to  say  something?  wasn't  she  hungry?  wasn't  this  what  she  always  did  --  telling  people  what  they  needed  to  do?  why  was  it  so  different  when  it  comes  to  herself?  the  questions  comes  rushing  in  his  mind  in  waves,  one  after  another  without  pause  he  feels  his  head  is  about  to  explode.

he  debates  what  to  say,  not  wanting  to  say  the  wrong  thing  as  his  heart  twists  when  she  blames  herself  for  not  eating.  he  supposes  she  is  right,  in  a  way  ...  you  are  most  responsible  for  yourself.  however,  that  thought  is  not  enough  to  ease  the  ache  in  his  chest  --  in  a  group  like  this,  where  no  one  should  be  left  behind  ...  it  shouldn't  fall  entirely  on  her  to  make  sure  she  gets  a  meal.

and why  does  it  bother  him  so  much  that  she  doesn't  even  expect  someone,  anyone  to  think  of  her  in  return?

"I  guess  I  can  take  on  the  job of  making  sure  everyone,  including  you  --  gets  enough  food  for  training."  he  tries  to  keep  his  tone  as  casual  as  he  can,  like  its  just  another  responsibility  ...  another  practical  task  divided  among  the  group.  he  continues  to  busy  himself  with  the  food,  letting  his  words  settle  before  he  adds,  "to  master  bending,  you  need  to  take  care  of  yourself.  that  means  eating  enough,  resting  enough  ...  this applies for  everyone,  no  exceptions."  he  explains,  pride  blooming  in  his  chest.  for  once he  feels  like  a  true  fire  bending  master  offering  wisdom,  the  way  Uncle  Iroh  once  did  for  him.

𝐙𝐮𝐤𝐨  let  out  a  deep  exhale,  turning  off  the  stove  once  the  food's  done.  he  hears  Katara's  question,  loud  and  clear  ...  but  he  doesn't  answer  right  away  staring  at  the  pan  as  if  the�� sizzle  of  the  dying  heat  might  give  him  clarity.  because  honestly?  he  doesn't  know  how  to  answer  without  sounding  foolish, typical ... expected.  he  wants  to  help  Aang  restore  balance  to  the  world  --  he's  sure  of  that.  but  beyond  that,  what  does  he  really  want?  he  wants  to  make  things  right,  he  wants  to  be  better.  he  wants  to  be  the  kind  of  person  his  Uncle  once  believes  he  could  be.  his  fingers  tighten  around  the  handle  of  the  wok  before  he  finally  speaks,  "I  want  to  help  Aang  restore  balance  to  the  world.  I  want  to  make  up  for  what  I've  done.  I  want  to  right  all  my  wrongs."  but  in  his  head,  the  words  continue  ...  remaining  unspoken:  I  want  Uncle  Iroh  back.  he  swallows  hard,  forcing  down  the  ache  in  his  throat  before  adding,  "you  know  what  I  want,  Katara.  I  want  to  stop  my  father."

[4aceclover]

Shadow house outfits (slight manga spoilers)

Anybody who has seen shadows house knows about the outfits that Emilio and her Shadow Master's friends where but many people are still confused as to how they got these outfits or more specifically the inspiration behind these outfits

Well the manga itself actually has a cover page showcasing the shadow Masters outfits in great detail so instead of a character breakdown I'm going to do an outfit breakdown and how each shadow master's outfit is connected to their living dolls previous outfits.

This post will be a breakdown of each of those outfits as best as I can

The Shadowmasters outfits

Kate

Kate's outfit is mostly based off of a rose in both color and hair accessories, the elements of her outfit maintain

Her under shirt

Her top coat

Her dress

Her Petty skirt

White socks and red shoes

And most importantly her red rose hair clips

John

Despite the limited space we actually get a good idea of what John actually wears it's just as wild as him

His undershirt

A blue coat

His blue pants

And his white socks and blue shoes

Shirley

A more simpler outfit but still packed with a lot of importance mostly based off of the flowers of yarrow coliseum and lavender

Her undershirt

Her Petty skirt like pants

Her lavender dress

Her yarrow hair clip

Her lavender bow (fun fact about this I'll get to later)

And her white socks and purple shoes

Patrick

His outfit ironically enough reminds me of a lucky clover and his love for flowers definitely makes this outlet all the more ironic

His green top

His shoulder pads that have a white bow

His brown pants

His white socks and black shoes

(surprisingly one of the only ones to not have an undershirt)

Louise

And finally we have Louise a bit more simple but still extravagant at the same time must be pretty hard to do exercise and that kind of dress

The striped under dress

Her main dress

Her black shoes

Her signature flower is a yellow gerbera daisy which is all over her outfit, her neckline waist and shoes

Most importantly her gerbera hair clip

Each of these outfits look very extravagant and very fancy despite it needing quite a bit of assembly but where did the inspiration for the outfits come from where the shadows house get such amazing ideas well why not from the children they stole these ideas from

The living dolls selection outfits (spoiler warning)

Anybody who's seen shadows houses manga knows that before entering the house these were just regular kids and for the selection these were the outfits that they are wearing a special breakdown is an order

(for this section I'll be referring to them by their living doll and normal names they're living doll names will be highlighted in their respective color. I'm also going on based off what I'm seeing in this photo so apologies if I get a few things wrong or miss something)

Louise / Lou

As you can clearly see before entering the house Lou had a much different outfit and completely different personality

There seems to be a layer under her dress

Then there's the yellow main dress

Yellow shoes

A bow like headband

The middle of the bow seems to have something puffy in it

Patrick/ Ricky

Despite the clothes looking pretty simple Ricky makes it clear that these clothes that he was wearing were of high class (must have cost a lot of money)

An undershirt

His green vest like coat

Brown shorts

Darker brown shoes

John / Shaun

Still a bit confused on how they managed to get master John's outfit from this but here we are Shaun's outfit is the exact opposite of John

A simple white shirt

Blue overalls

Blue pants

Brown shoes

No glasses (important for later)

Shirley / Rum

Definitely a cute outfit you can see more similarities with this Rum's than the others

Lavender top dress

A gray like underskirt

Light purple shoes

Two light purple berets

A gray bow close to the left pocket

A lavender bow (important for later)

Kate / Emilico

By far this is one of the more fancier outfits if not the biggest difference in both color and design

Long pink dress

Short pink top coat

Pink cap in her hands

Two pink hair ties

Pink shoes

This is where the shadow house got the ideas for the future shadows outfits from these outfits the kids wore during the selection look at all the similarities between the color choices and the position of hair accessories for example the girls flower choices heck even the design of the outfit themselves could have been influenced by this

For example both Rum and Shirley wear short lavender based dresses while Louise and Lou both wear long yellow dresses with cute yellow hair accessories, compare that to Patrick who looks like he's wearing a green flock like coat to Ricky's outfit where he looks like he's wearing a sweater vest and seriously John and Shaun how do we go from overalls to a fancy coat

The most obvious differences being Kate and Emilco but I'm not going to explain that spoiler just yet, besides the colors being obviously different the length of the dresses are different too and Kate doesn't have a cap like a Emilico did

Fun facts

The lavender bow on Mistress Shirley's finger actually belonged to Rum before she entered the house, when she entered instead of it being replaced like Lou's bow like headband it was just transferred over to Mistress Shirley and she received a darker colored version of rummy's bow

The reason why Shaun isn't seen wearing his glasses throughout the show and manga is because during the selection he chose not to wear them in order to have a higher chance of being picked which is why Master John doesn't need glasses

Ricky's hair wasn't always swooped back it actually used to cover one of his eyes as bangs that were more skewed to one side of his face but in order to look more professional he slicked it back thanks to his sister

It confused me why they replaced Lou's accessory until I looked closer, it's not a simple bow like Rum's it's actually a bow connected to a headband and while headbands do exist in the shadows house evident by Maggie and Margaret once like hers probably don't exist so they compromised by making it a bit more simple

Isn't it a bit interesting that despite the colors in Shadow's house being all over the rainbow they purposely gave Emilico a pink dress while they gave Kate a red dress (potential for a future post)

[somegrumpynerd]

Cross has trouble getting to sleep alone in his room and goes looking for a distraction, but ends up finding a solution for both of them

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems