#the reason i believe i might have a chance with love

[childrenofcain-if]

Ignore this if you've answered this ask before but if the ROs or MC got pregnant while they are in university, will they keep the baby or not?

if MC is the one who got pregnant (it ultimately depends on the MC btw):

CÉDRIC LACROIX: cédric will be very against the idea at first but once he sees that you don’t want to give the baby up, he’ll support you regardless. you’ll also have the duration of the pregnancy to see how he has a turnaround and actively tries to be a good dad before the kid is even born. i’d say that out of all the ROs, he’s the one who’s going to be overbearing and going all out on his fatherly duties.

VANCE NÆSHOLM: vance would be supportive from the get go about keeping the kid. if things get too hard, he’ll offer to drop out and be a stay-at-home dad and get an online degree instead. he’ll just be happy to be having a baby with you and make sure he’s always there for you both.

WILHELM OSTENDORF: all that breeding kink accounted for something, i guess? either way, billy will be overjoyed. yes, he knows the timing is very bad but he truly believes you can both get through it. good luck getting him to stop talking to the baby in your belly and telling them stories about you two.

DUMITRU DIACONU: oh hell no! dumitru will very much want you to delete the baby, but if you insist on keeping them, he’ll disappear for 2-3 days without a trace. when he returns, his dramatic ass will literally be on his knees and telling you that losing you is so much worse than being a dad (what a charmer) and beg for you to give him one more chance. to his credit, he matures a lot in the duration of your pregnancy and gives up a lot of his vices. you’ll even find him singing a song he wrote for your future baby to your belly when he thinks you’re asleep.

MAXWELL WHITLOCK-SINGH: maxwell will strongly object to you keeping the baby, but he is helpless to do anything if you do not agree with him. the royal family will disown him over the fact that he had a baby out of wedlock with a filthy rich commoner, but he also doesn’t want to lose the love of his life and their child. in the end, he’ll tell his immediate family about the situation and marry you before the baby is born.

if the ROs are the ones who got pregnant:

CÉLINE LACROIX: shocked. confused. scared. céline doesn’t want to terminate the pregnancy but she’s very young and she wants to accomplish a lot before even thinking about having kids. she’ll get an abortion but will be very traumatised by the whole experience.

VANESSA NÆSHOLM: vanessa will keep the baby. and it’s not because of religious reasons, surprisingly. she just feels an instant connection with the baby growing inside her and would want to keep them. she dreams about how they might look and grow up to be and is just happy that they’re a part of you both.

WILHELMINE OSTENDORF: considering billie’s health currently, the baby would likely be miscarried. this is especially devastating because she would like to keep them. she has always wished for a family with you and it’ll be a cruel outcome for everyone.

DUMITRA DIACONU: dumitra is getting an abortion as soon as she’s able to. she is not becoming a mother before she even graduates college! besides, she isn’t exactly fond of the idea of ever having kids at the moment. although she might change her mind in the future if you talk to her.

MAXINE WHITLOCK-SINGH: not only is it gonna be a complete scandal which will make the royal family turn upside down, maxine will 100% get disowned by even her parents if she keeps the baby. she also isn’t a huge fan of experiencing motherhood before she even graduates from law school so it’s a no from her, love.

[szariahwroteit]

Girls Need Love: A Kylian Mbappè x Original Character Erotic Series.

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 6

From the moment Giselle had stirred awake in the silence of an empty bed that morning, a tempest of emotions had stirred within her. The remnants of the previous night clung to her like a heavy fog, swirling with a chaotic blend of feelings. Among them, fear loomed largest, casting a long shadow over her thoughts, while regret wrapped around her heart, tight and suffocating. Memories of passion and tension flickered in her mind, but the haunting ache of unresolved choices refused to let her find peace.

She desired Kylian and wanted to be his, but the walls around her heart, though feeling weak, had to remain. She needed to protect herself at all costs.

“If you want him, why are you making this so hard for yourself?” Camille asked empathetically over FaceTime, her heart heavy as she took in Giselle’s bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“Because I can't have him; I don't know how to be with anyone without putting them in Jalen’s shoes. Having sex with someone is easier than trusting them with your heart,” Giselle sniffled.

“Maybe that’s where you’re going wrong,” Camille replied gently, urging her friend to confront her fears. “You keep comparing Kylian to Jalen, who’re two completely different people. You’re afraid of falling, but you need to give yourself the chance to fly.”

Giselle shifted uncomfortably, the weight of Camille's words pressing into her like a tangible force. “What if I let him in, and it all goes wrong? What if I’m recreating the same patterns? I can’t do it again.”

Camille leaned closer to the screen, her expression sincere. “You won’t know unless you try. Kylian isn't Jalen, and you aren't the girl you were two years ago.”

Giselle let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding as Camille's words resonated within her. They stood as a stark reminder of the growth she’d undergone since that dark chapter, yet the fear still wrapped around her like a vice. Two years had passed, but it felt as though they weighed like a thousand, carrying with them the scars of betrayal, distrust, and heartbreak.

“But what if I get hurt again?” Giselle whispered her voice a blend of vulnerability and defiance.

Camille sighed, her brow furrowed. “That’s life, Giselle. There is no guarantee, but is that a reason to shut it all out?”

Giselle glanced at the window, squinting against the morning light. The beautiful snowy terrain did little to calm her racing mind.

“Cam, I am terrified of being hurt, but I am also scared that I might hurt Kylian, and he doesn't deserve that,” she admitted, her voice trembling. The weight of her fears felt almost unbearable as they hung between them like an invisible barrier.

“Giselle, everyone carries their own baggage,” Camille replied, her tone soothing yet firm. “Kylian deserves your honesty—if he wants you, he’ll understand your struggles and support you through them. But you have to be willing to let him in.”

A part of Giselle wanted to believe that. The other part shivered at the mere thought of vulnerability. “You think he’ll really understand? What if I open up, and it scares him away?” She winced at the thought of Kylian walking away from her because the baggage she carried was too heavy.

She had opened up to Kylian about Jalen before, but even then, she focused more on the physical changes she went through, having to hide bruises and clues of his abuse from the world.

But emotionally and mentally, she wasn't sure how to even begin navigating those waters with him.

Camille watched as Giselle's anxiety began to manifest, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “You won’t know what his reaction will be unless you try,” she urged gently. “It’s no small feat to share wounds, but if you keep everything locked away, you’ll never find healing, let alone love.”

Giselle felt the weight of emptiness settle in her stomach. Kylian deserved better than the shadows that haunted her. How could she lay bare the scars when she was so afraid he might recoil? She opened her mouth to speak, but hesitation held her tongue captive.

“Giselle, if you feel something for him, embrace it,” Camille encouraged, forcing her own thoughts aside to focus on her friend. “What’s the worst that could happen? He’s articulate, kind, handsome, and incredibly rich,” she smirked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Giselle couldn't help but smile at Camille's lighthearted jab, though the bitterness of her thoughts still lingered beneath the surface. “His money has nothing to do with me,” she replied, her attempt at humor faint and wavering.

“Maybe not, but it seems he enjoys spending it on you!” Camille retorted, grinning widely. “But seriously, Giselle, you have to trust yourself. You’ve fought through so much. You’re not the girl who let Jalen treat her like that anymore. You’re stronger now, even if you don’t fully believe it yet.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m still that girl,” Giselle confessed quietly, her vulnerability seeping through the cracks of her facade. “The girl who let love blind her. The one who clung to the idea of what it should be, ignoring the reality of what was. I’m just afraid… afraid of letting my guard down again.”

Camille's expression softened, her own eyes reflecting understanding. “I get that. But holding onto that fear won’t protect you; it’ll only keep you locked away. You deserve happiness, too, Giselle. Even if it's not Kylian, you deserve to be able to let your guard down.”

“When we leave Switzerland, he's going back to Madrid, and I'm going home to Los Angeles; there is no promise of a future,” Giselle murmured, the weight of their impending separation adding gravity to her already turbulent thoughts. “What if this moment is just a beautiful memory and nothing more?”

“Kylian asked for it not to be. He wants you, and you said no because you are scared.” Camille paused, her voice steady and resolute. “You have to decide if you want to keep running from what could be or if you’re ready to take a leap of faith. You can’t control the future, but you can choose how you respond to the present.”

Giselle felt Camille’s words' warmth seep into her heart, battling against the chill of her fears. “But what if I fall?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Then you get back up,” Camille replied, her tone sure and unwavering. “You’ve done it before, and you can do it again. Falling doesn’t mean you’re weak; it means you’re brave enough to try. And who knows? Maybe this time, you’ll find someone who will catch you.”

Giselle closed her eyes, a tear slipping from the corner of her right as she thought about how far she had come in the last two years, how different she was from the broken and abused woman who used to stare back at her in the mirror.

Camille was right, but when Giselle considered what was at stake, she was scared.

Kylian wasn't Jalen, but the idea of wanting more with him forced her to face her past, which was a daunting prospect. The memories of Jalen's betrayal and the pain that had followed were still fresh, lurking just beneath the surface of her consciousness. Giselle had spent so long building walls to protect herself, and now, the thought of dismantling them felt like standing on the edge of a precipice, staring down into an abyss of uncertainty.

“What if I’m not ready?” Giselle murmured, her voice trembling as she opened her eyes to the reality of her situation. “What if I ruin everything?”

“Then you learn from it,” Camille replied, her voice steady and reassuring. “But you won’t know unless you take that step, Gi. You can’t let fear dictate your life. You deserve to experience life, even if it’s messy and complicated.”

Giselle took a deep breath, the air filling her lungs with a mix of hope and trepidation. “I want to believe that,” she admitted, her heart racing at the thought of Kylian’s smile and how he looked at her. “But what if I’m just setting myself up for heartbreak again?”

“Messing up is a part of life, Giselle. It’s how we grow,” Camille said softly. “But you have to give yourself the chance to feel something real. Kylian is different. He’s shown you kindness and respect. You owe it to yourself to explore that.”

“I guess I can talk to him later; he’s been shooting a commercial all morning,” Giselle explained, using the back of her hand to wipe her tears.

Despite her inner turmoil, Giselle was thankful for Kylian’s team's presence and the full camera crew that occupied the living room and kitchen of the house.

It allowed Giselle the chance to spend most of the day so far, hiding out in the bedroom of the luxurious alpine chalet Kylian shot for Audemars Piguet.

Sitting on the edge of the ornate bed, Giselle wrestled with her thoughts. Light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the elegant lines of the room but failing to penetrate her heart. The echo of Camille's words rang persistently in her ears, urging her to abandon the walls she had so carefully constructed. Yet every time she pictured Kylian's warm gaze, a shiver of uncertainty ran down her spine.

He was everything: charming, handsome, and unafraid to show his desire for her. Yet, the scars of her past clung to her, reminding her of the time she had given her heart so freely, only to have it shattered in the midst of Jalen’s physical and emotional abuse.

The thought of confronting Kylian, of risking the budding connection between them, left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. What if she invited the kind of intimacy they both craved, only to discover that she wasn't capable of giving him her all? The fear twisted in her stomach like a knife, leaving her trembling.

Taking a deep breath, Giselle rubbed her temples, attempting to ease the tension. Camille’s voice had offered clarity yet left her with a decision that felt insurmountable. “What the fuck do you want?” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, but Giselle felt like time was slipping through her fingers. Every minute that passed brought the reality of their eventual separation closer. Would they return to their respective cities with only an echo of what could have been, or was there something more waiting for them on the other side of her insecurities?

As if summoned by her thoughts, Kylian entered the room, his presence immediately causing her heart to race. The way his shirt clung to his chest after a long morning of filming made her breath hitch. Even with the camera crew bustling in the background, he focused solely on her, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

The second he noticed her red, puffy eyes, he was at Giselle’s side, his hands encircling her waist as he towered over her.

“Giselle, what’s wrong?” His voice was low and smooth, comforting against the tempest of her emotions. Kylian’s concern cut through her anxiety, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable.

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding against her ribcage as she struggled to shape the swirling thoughts in her mind into words. “I’m sorry about last…,” she managed, her voice trembling slightly as the weight of her fears loomed.

“Talk to me,” he urged his gaze steady and earnest, making her feel seen and cherished in a way that made her ache. The sincerity of his presence compelled her, yet the fear of opening up threatened to swallow her whole.

Giselle hesitated, casting her gaze toward the ground, wrestling with the revelation that hovered on her tongue. The past loomed behind her like a shadow, and she worried that exposing herself would only expose her to pain again. “I don’t know if I can,” she whispered, feeling the tension heavy between them.

Kylian recognized that she still carried the pain of her past. He understood that she was a woman who had faced various forms of abuse, yet this only strengthened his resolve. As he had told her the night before, he wanted her.

“What if we try and you don't like what you find?” Giselle asked.

“What if I like what I have already found?” Kylian smiled softly.

Giselle's heart stuttered at his words, a warmth blooming in her chest. Kylian’s response was simple yet profound, leaving an impression of hope she hadn’t quite allowed herself to entertain. It was as if he were holding out a lifeline, one that she was terrified yet desperate to reach for.

"You really mean that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes glistening. She was afraid to hope, afraid to believe that he genuinely wanted her, baggage and all.

Kylian stepped closer, closing the space between them, his hands cupping her face gently. "I want you. I don’t want you to hide from me.”

His sincerity was disarming, a soft glow amidst the darkness of her thoughts. But the walls she had built were not easily torn down.

“When you return to Los Angeles, and I return to Madrid, I want to know that we will see each other again; I don't want this to end.” Kylian leaned in, his breath warm against her skin, his gaze unwavering. “I want to be the one who knows you—not just the parts you show the world, but the parts that make you who you are, the beautiful and broken pieces.”

Giselle’s heart raced at his words, a mix of longing and fear binding them together. “But what if I can’t give you what you want?” she whispered, the vulnerability of the moment hanging between them like a fragile string.

Kylian's grip on her face tightened, his thumbs brushing gently against her cheeks. “Then we figure it out together. I’m not asking for perfection; I’m asking you for a chance to give this a try. No labels, no pressure, Giselle. I’m not going anywhere.”

Giselle's heart raced in her chest as his words washed over her. In those moments, the noise of her fears began to fade.

She searched Kylian’s face for the reassurance it offered, his expression a blend of patience and resolve. His dark eyes housed warmth and understanding, drawing her in like a moth to a flame. She wanted to feel that warmth, to surrender to the possibility of something new, but the scars etched in her heart tightened their grip, warning her to retreat.

“What if I fuck up?” Giselle asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty. “What if I push you away?”

“Then you let me in again,” he said gently, his thumbs still tracing the line of her jaw.

Pulling his hands away from her face, Kylian wrapped her in a comforting embrace. Giselle melted against Kylian as he pulled her into his arms, her face nestling beneath his chin as his hands traveled the curve of her back. His touch was soothing and gentle.

“Please, no more crying,” Kylian whispered, his voice a tender balm to her frayed emotions. “I’m not Jalen. I’d never want to hurt you.”

The sincerity of his words wrapped around her like a warm embrace, battling against the chill that had settled so deeply in her heart. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to breathe in his comforting scent, feeling a flicker of hope reignite within the shadows of her worries.

“I’m scared,” she admitted, the tension of vulnerability spilling from her lips like a secret. “Scared of letting you in, scared of being hurt, scared of ruining something that feels so good.”

Kylian pulled back slightly, enough to meet her gaze with unyielding intensity. Instead of offering her a worded answer, he pressed his lips to hers in an attempt to silence her racing mind.

The kiss was soft yet imbued with a warmth that ignited the flames of longing in Giselle’s chest. It was an invitation, a promise of safety wrapped in the urgency of desire. As Kylian's lips moved against hers, she felt the weight of her fears begin to lift, even if just for the fleeting moment they shared.

Giselle responded instinctively, leaning into him as she closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensation that enveloped her like a comforting blanket. The taste of him—warm, rich, and utterly intoxicating—filled her senses, pushing away the shadows that lurked at the edges of her mind.

When he finally pulled back, breathless, Kylian searched her eyes with an intensity that made her heart race. “That’s what I want,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “I want you to feel safe with me.”

She bit her lip, a surge of emotion tightening her throat. “I don’t know if I can,” she admitted, her voice shaky.

“Just take it one step at a time,” he urged gently, leaning closer again, his forehead resting against hers. The intimacy of the gesture felt grounding, a tether for her swirling thoughts. “I’m not asking you to bare your soul. Share what you feel comfortable with.”

Giselle nodded slowly, the warmth of his presence soothing her anxiety. Though the memories of Jalen haunted her, there was a flicker of something new, something undeniably real between her and Kylian. She wanted to explore it but was terrified of what lay beneath the surface.

“What if I start to feel things for you that I’m not ready for?” Giselle asked, her brows furrowing with confusion. “What if it becomes too much?”

Kylian’s hand shifted to her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Then we figure it out together,” he replied, his tone earnest. “I need you to be open. Your past doesn’t scare me, Giselle. It shapes who you are, and that’s beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Giselle echoed, a mix of disbelief and warmth flooding her cheeks. “I don’t feel beautiful.”

“You are,” Kylian said insistently, his eyes never leaving hers. “That strength you carry? It shines through, even when you’re uncertain. I admire that about you.”

“I just feel like I’m a mess,” she admitted, feeling exposed in a way that was both terrifying and liberating. “One moment, I want to embrace what we have, and the next, I‘m too scared to.”

Kylian’s fingers brushed against her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “You don’t have to have it all figured out; that’s what makes this moment so real. We’re both scared, but that doesn’t have to stop us from trying.”

Whether or not he had the courage to admit it, Giselle had left her mark on Kylian. He wasn't entirely sure what the future held, but he knew he couldn't let her go.

Their lives were oceans apart, and they had only known one another for around a week, but he wanted her too much to part ways and have this all become a fond memory; he didn't want her to be.

He wanted her to be someone he could hold in his arms, share laughter and long conversations with, someone who could help him navigate the complexities of his own world.

With each moment that passed, Giselle felt the walls she had built around her heart beginning to crack. Kylian was right; she didn’t have to rush into anything, nor did she have to fear the possibility of their connection fizzling out once they returned to their lives in different countries. What mattered was the present, and right now, Kylian was here, and he wanted her.

“Okay,” she whispered, her heart resistant yet hopeful. “I’ll try. I’ll try to let you in.”

Kylian’s expression brightened, an infectious smile breaking across his face. It lit up the entire room, and for a moment, Giselle felt the heavy weight she’d carried for so long begin to lift.

“Good,” he said softly, bringing his hand back to her waist. “Just take it slow, and we’ll figure it out together, I promise.”

Without thinking, Giselle leaned into him once more, and in that moment, their connection surged with newfound intensity. She surrendered herself to the intoxicating warmth emanating from him, feeling the barriers she had erected slowly giving way to the yearning that had been simmering just below the surface.

And perhaps for the first time in a long time, Giselle felt as though she was reclaiming a part of herself that had been lost. She was no longer the broken girl she had once been; she was stronger, more resilient, and ready to embrace the complexities of life once more.

Kylian’s arms tightened around her, and in that embrace, she felt a sense of safety she hadn’t known she craved. For the first time, she allowed herself to envision a future where they could explore the depths of their connection, even against the backdrop of uncertainty.

“Are you going to leave the bedroom with me? You can't stay locked away.” Kylian softly teased, his voice low and playful, as he brushed his fingers along her arm, an invitation to step into the world outside their intimate cocoon.

Giselle chuckled, her cheeks warming at his lightheartedness. “I don't want to get in the way,” she replied.

Kylian shook his head, his laughter mingling with hers in the open space. “You won't be in the way.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, a playful glint that made her heart flutter. “Besides, I think I could use a little of your expertise on set.”

While Kylian was a star, there was no denying Giselle’s celebrity. She had graced the covers of multiple magazines and posed in campaigns and editorials for some of the biggest brands in the world.

“I’m on vacation,” Giselle reminded him playfully, putting up no protest as he guided her out of the bedroom, his face in the crease of her neck as he led her through the door. The laughter faded, giving way to an electrifying tension that hummed beneath the surface of their every interaction. Each step felt like a dance, choreographed by the unspoken desires that had built up between them.

As they entered the elegantly furnished living area filled with the soft chatter of the crew, Giselle felt a rush of warmth wash over her. Kylian’s presence was steadying, grounding her as they stepped into the chaos of cameras and lights.

“Relax,” he murmured, his breath tickling her ear, sending shivers down her spine as he tightened his hold on her.

Kylian couldn't help but smirk as his eyes met with Brice, one of his closest friends and long-time barber, who shot him a knowing smirk.

As Kylian’s confidant, Brice was one of the only people he had spoken to about Giselle, but to see his friend with her—his arms wrapped securely around her waist as he whispered in her ear suggested their were more feelings involved than his brother had originally let on.

Kylian couldnt keep the mischievous smirk off of his face as he caught Brice's eye, who raised an eyebrow suggestively wearing a smirk of his own.

With the cameras rolling, Kylian stood tall, pivoting slightly to shield Giselle from the curious gazes of the crew. Her presence felt good, and it was one he wanted to protect. She leaned into him, comforted by his strong arms, before he let her go so she could go and stand behind the camera and crew.

“Alright, people, let’s get this done!” Kylian called out, his voice ringing with authority, yet playful. His eyes gleamed with mischief, flicking back to Giselle, who looked both fascinated and uncertain.

As the shoot unfolded, Giselle watched in awe as Kylian modeled an array of luxury watches one after the other, his outfits changing to mate the color scheme of each timepiece.

It felt oddly peaceful to sit back and watch from behind the camera for a change, the attention of the room on Kylian as she aimlessly scrolled through Instagram.

He was in his element, exuding the same quiet confidence and charm he always held as he effortlessly navigated through the demands of the shoot. Giselle's stomach fluttered with admiration as he posed, showing off the intricate details of the Audemars Piguet timepieces.

She felt like a spectator in both a dream and a reality—caught up in the ongoing show between cameras and flashes, yet wholly engaged in her feelings for him. The thoughts of her own hesitations started to fade. Kylian’s confidence ignited a spark of joy within her.

“Can you believe this guy?” A voice asked breaking through her thoughts as he moved to stand beside her, his eyes trained on Kylian. “He’s killing it, as always. But you might be making him nervous.” There was an unmistakable teasing lilt to his voice that made Giselle roll her eyes affectionately.

“Nice to meet you, finally,” he smirked, turning to Giselle and holding out her hand. “Brice. Kylian’s best friend and the reason his hair always looks good.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Giselle replied, trying to mirror his easy-going vibe, though her nerves were still a little frayed from their earlier conversation.

Brice was welcoming, it was evident to Giselle in some of the things he said that Kylian had spoken to him about her. There was a familiarity in his manner that made her feel less like an outsider and more like a part of Kylian's world, even if just for a moment.

“You guys met at Elise and Juels’ engagement party, no?” Brice asked, leaning casually against the wall, a playful glint in his eye that hinted at mischief.

Giselle glanced over at Kylian in time to see him falter slightly, a hint of a blush creeping up her cheeks. “We did,” she confirmed, her mind instantly going to the night of passion that followed.

Brice chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “I was traveling so I couldn't attend, but when I spoke to him the next day, he would not stop talking about the girl he met.”

Giselle felt her cheeks heat up at the admission, a mix of embarrassment and pride swelling within her as she looked across the room to where Kylian sat being photographed.

“He enjoys your company,” Brice commented, his tone light but serious enough to convey genuine interest.

“I enjoy his too,” Giselle replied, surprised by how readily the admission slipped from her lips.

Brice was strategic in his conversation, using the time to feel out who Giselle was beyond the face she showed the world.

The longer they spoke the more appreant it became why Kylian was so into her. She was strikingly beautiful, but beyond that she was kind, warm, and had a genuine charm that drew people in. Brice could see the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke about Kylian, a detail that deepened his curiosity about their relationship.

“He really likes you, you know,” Brice remarked, leaning closer to Giselle with an encouraging smile. “I haven’t seen him like this in a while.”

In that moment, Giselle felt a mix of elation and apprehension. Being liked by Kylian felt intoxicating yet terrifying. She bit her lip, looking back to where he posed for the camera, his smile infectious and radiating confidence.

“What does that mean for you? I mean, as you both navigate the distance…” Brice continued, folding his arms and watching her closely.

Giselle’s heart sank slightly at the mention of distance. “I honestly don’t know,” she said truthfully.

She'd had a conversation with Kylian in which they seemed to find level ground, but life was always easier in theory.

Giselle felt a pang of anxiety rise within her as the reality of their separation loomed over her heart like a dark cloud. “We’re both busy people,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “He’s got his life in Madrid, and I have mine in Los Angeles. I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

The conversation between Giselle and Brice continued as Kylian moved to different locations around the house, the shoot continuing into the late afternoon before the photographer announced it was over, earning a round of applause from the crew that worked alongside him.

Kylian was frustrated as he entered the living room, looking for Giselle. She was seated on a plush sectional, her legs tucked beneath her, staying out of the way while the set team cleaned up.

Brice gave Kylian a lazy handshake as he passed him, and Kylian dramatically fell into Giselle’s lap, relaxing his body against hers as he pressed his face against her stomach and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Giselle looked down at Kylian, her fingers instinctively brushing over his hair, and she couldn't help but smile. The moment felt intimate and carefree, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions that had occupied her mind earlier.

Kylian lifted his head slightly, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "You are the best pillow," he teased, hiding a grin as he settled back against her.

“Are you coming to dinner later?” he asked as he snuggled in closer to Giselle, refusing to even lift his head.

As a thank you for his continued work with the luxury brand, Audemars Piguet were hosting a dinner later that evening for Kylian.

He could feel the warmth radiating from Giselle, and it was exactly what he needed after a long day of shooting.

“I guess so,” she replied, her voice soft as she played with his hair, her fingers tracing over his sharp hairline. “I’ll have to start getting ready soon,” Giselle added, her voice a mix of reluctance and anticipation.

Kylian lifted his head, his expression shifting to one of playful seriousness. “I want you to be there,” he said, his voice low and earnest.

Giselle’s heart fluttered at his earnestness, the weight of his gaze sending sparks of warmth through her. “I’ll be there,” she promised, feeling a wave of sincerity wash over her.

“Good. I mean it,” Kylian replied, his smile softening. “Your presence matters to me, Giselle.”

Taking a moment to let his words sink in, Giselle felt a rush of emotions swirl within her: hope, desire, and a lingering fear. The past still hovered like a specter, but as Kylian returned to rest against her, she felt calmer, lighter—more in control than she had felt in a while.

When it was time to begin getting ready, Brice headed to the room he'd be sleeping in for the night while Kylian and Giselle returned to their, each of them showering before getting dressed ahead of dinner.

When they were ready, they pulled on their coats ready to brave the Swiss winter night as they stepped out into the crisp air, the moon illuminating the snowy landscape around them. The chalet was a stunning backdrop, its wooden beams glowing softly under the twinkling lights strung across the façade. Giselle tucked her arm into Kylian’s as they walked to the awaiting SUV, feeling the warmth radiate from him seeping into her skin.

“Just so you know,” Kylian started, his voice teasing yet sincere, “You look beautiful tonight.”

Giselle blinked, caught off guard by his complement. “Thank you," she replied, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. She could feel the warmth of his gaze on her, and it sent a shiver down her spine. It was moments like these that made the chaos of her thoughts fade, even if just for a heartbeat.

The SUV rolled through the snowy streets, music playing softly in the background, and Kylian kept stealing glances at her, the tension between them palpable. The air was thick with unspoken words, charged with an electricity that made her pulse race.

Dinner wan an intimate setting, including herself, Kylian and Brice there were no more than ten people in the opulent restaurant seated along a long table in the centre of the room.

Giselle was not sure if it was purposefully orchestrated, but she had spent the day fitting seamlessly into his life, further confusing her emotions.

By the time dinner came to an end she felt a slight buzz from the wine she had consumed, Giselle's body felt warm even as they stood outside awaiting the arrival of Kylian's driver so they could head back to the chalet for the night.

Giselle let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding as she felt Kylian's hand snake around her waist, his warm breaths on her cheek as he pulled her back against his chest.

The drive back to the house was filled with soft giggles as heated whispers as Kylian and Giselle occupied the back seat, leaving Brice to sit up front with the driver.

“When are you coming to see me in Madrid?” Kylian asked, his voice a husky whisper in her ear, making her shiver.

Giselle leaned into him, her heart racing at the sudden intimacy. “I don’t know yet,” she admitted, her words laced with both excitement and trepidation. “It feels like a lot to think about.”

Kylian tightened his grip around her waist, drawing her closer as the car navigated the winding roads of the Swiss countryside. “We can take our time,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I just want to know when I can see you again. I want to make it happen.”

Giselle turned to meet his gaze, her breath hitching at the depth of his focus on her. “You really want that?” she asked, searching for confirmation.

“More than anything,” Kylian replied fervently, his expression vulnerable yet unwavering. “You’ve got under my skin, and I don’t want to let go.”

The simplicity of his desire in that moment flipped a switch in Giselle, even if she wasnt sure what the future held for them when they returned home, but for the night, all she wanted was him.

When they arrived back at the chalet, Giselle allowed Kylian to pull her into their shared bedroom, locking the door behind them.

There was absolutely nothing rushed about Giselle and Kylian’s sex; he held her wrists pinned above her head as he rolled his hips into hers, making sure she felt every ridge and vein that lined his thick shaft.

It wasn't the sex of two individuals purely seeking pleasure; it was the sex of two souls completely lost in one another.

Giselle was so wet her arousal pooled beneath her on the sheets, her essence seeping into the thread count as Kylian took his time, the bulbous head of his cock brushing against her cervix with each slow, drawn-out flex of his hips.

Kylian's eyes rolled back slightly as he savored the tight, wet grip of Giselle's pussy, grunting as he placed his hand on the back of her right thigh and pinned it to the bed.

“Fuck, Giselle... you feel so good on my cock. Kylian groaned, his accent thickening with desire as he slowly pumped his hips, savoring the exquisite sensation of her tight walls gripping him.

Leaning down, he captured her lips passionately as he continued his deliberate pace. His tongue dancing with hers, mimicking the slow, sensual rhythm of their sex. Kylian's free hand roamed her body, caressing her curves and leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

They returned to Paris tomorrow afternoon and shortly after that Kylian was heading back to Madrid to resume his football season.

Uncertainty shrouded them both, but something about tonight felt definitive. He needed to feel her physically and emotionally; he felt the overwhelming urge to consume her.

Giselle let out a cry of pleasure as Kylian hit a particularly deep spot inside of her, invoking an indescribable pleasure combined with a dull ache.

“Baby, you're so deep,” she moaned, her nails digging into his back as she tilted her hips towards his, taking every delicious inch of him.

Kylian's eyes snapped open, a fierce intensity burning within them as he stared down at Giselle. His movements became more purposeful, more deliberate, as he began to pick up the pace. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, punctuated by Giselle's breathy moans and Kylian's guttural grunts.

"Fuck, Giselle," he growled, his accent thickening with each thrust. "You're mine. Tonight, tomorrow. I don't care about the distance or the uncertainty."

His words were punctuated by a particularly deep thrust, causing Giselle to cry out in pleasure. Kylian's hand tightened around her thigh, pulling her leg higher up his waist as he continued to fuck into her.

"Say it," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me you're mine."

Giselle's body trembled beneath Kylian's, her walls clamping down around his throbbing shaft as he filled her completely. Tears of joy and overwhelming emotion pricked at the corners of her eyes. "I'm yours, Kylian," she whispered, her voice trembling with sincerity.

Her words seemed to ignite something primal within Kylian. With a fierce growl, he captured her lips in a feverish kiss, his tongue dominating hers as he continued to drive into her with wild determination. The room filled with the sounds of their passionate tryst, a testament to the deep connection they shared.

As their bodies moved in perfect harmony, Kylian felt a familiar tension building in his lower abdomen. He knew he was close, but he refused to find his release without Giselle.

"Cum with me, Gi," Kylian rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own orgasm. "I want to feel you cum my cock. Give yourself to me."

His words, combined with the relentless rolling of his hips, pushed Giselle over the edge. Her body convulsed beneath him, a strangled cry ripping from her throat as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her inner core spasmed, gripping Kylian's shaft as she rode out her climax.

Feeling Giselle's release, Kylian finally let himself go. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her and came with a roar. His hot seed spilled into her, marking her as his in the most primal way possible. Their bodies shuddered and twitched together, lost in the midst of passion.

Kylian collapsed onto her, their bodies entwined as they both tried to catch their breath, the aftershocks of their climax rippling through them. Giselle's heart raced, her skin flushed and tingling from the intensity of their shared experience. She felt alive, both vulnerable and empowered in the wake of their union.

Kylian peppered soft kisses along her collarbone, each one igniting her senses anew. “You are incredible,” he murmured against her skin, his voice laced with a mix of exhaustion and adoration. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you here with me.”

Giselle smiled, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she reveled in the moment. “I feel lucky too,” she confessed, still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions that had enveloped her throughout the night.

They lay in a comfortable silence for a moment, wrapped up in each other amidst the disarray of sheets and blankets, both savoring the warmth that radiated between them.

But as the contentment settled in, the reality of their situation crept back into her mind like an unwelcome guest. Tomorrow loomed with its uncertainty, and the thought left an ache in her heart.

“What are we going to do?” Giselle finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the weight of her worries threatening to crush the lightness of their earlier moment.

Kylian propped himself up on one elbow, his brow furrowing as he studied her face. “What do you mean?”

Giselle sighed, threading her fingers through her hair as she turned her gaze away from him. “We have to deal with tomorrow. You’ll be in Madrid, and I’ll be back in Los Angeles. What if this... what we have...”

Kylian's expression softened as he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Listen to me, Giselle. This doesn’t change just because the sun rises. It was real, and it mattered.”

[yuseirra]

I've been thinking about it,

and I feel like the first scene where Luka is standing amongst the spilled clone's incredibly important when it comes to interpreting this character’s personality. Depending on what the character felt at that moment and how they perceived the situation, their personality could become much clearer.

I think Luka once tried to free the other clones when he was very young, but ended up causing all of them to die. Perhaps that experience became ingrained in his subconscience, shaping his personality—leading him to believe that resistance is futile, accepting whatever happens to him without rebellion, and simply growing up by learning what he’s taught.

He experienced something deeply traumatic at a young age but never got the chance to truly process it, did he? Instead, he either forced himself to accept it somehow or buried it away, and that might have continuously influenced his actions thereafter.

This character also tends to mock others like Mizi or Till when they display emotions or seem shaken. But perhaps it's precisely because he is vulnerable in that regard himself. People often notice and become conscious of traits they are most sensitive about. After all, someone who criticizes something frequently is often highly sensitive to it, because if they truly didn’t care, they’d be indifferent.

Seen this way, Luka and Hyuna might unexpectedly share a similar essence. Both possessed a strong desire for freedom, and naturally took actions to achieve it—Hyuna by joining the resistance, and Luka by trying to free the other clones.

However, because Luka’s actions led to such devastating consequences, he might have buried his emotions related to that event entirely and accepted it without trying to doubt it. And precisely because of that, he might now express an even stronger reaction against people who try to do the same thing he once tried—because he never wants to endure that kind of pain again.

It’s possible that’s why he seemed completely unaffected by Hyunwoo’s death as a child. He was completely able to fool himself that that's how things should be. However, this is something we can only confirm once an official interpretation is provided, since we’re analyzing based solely on the scenes.

But Hyuna’s reaction... and the mention that Luka needs to forgive himself, along with images of him drawn with the clones with the description "disgust" or quietly gazing at containers that held them—these suggest that the emotions Luka has buried might be far more immense than they seem. Perhaps he acts as if they don’t exist because facing them would be unbearable. The fact that he caused others’ deaths likely weighs heavily on him, so he might have become adept at actively burying those feelings and pretending he’s unaffected.

The reasoning behind this behavior would be that if he acts like it doesn’t matter, then maybe it really won’t matter. He creates a shell to cover everything up and consciously avoids thinking beyond a certain point. Instead, he continues to act as he always has, perhaps as a way to prove something to himself. That he's really fine the way it is.

Because if this character were truly incapable of guilt or entirely devoid of doubt, Hyuna wouldn’t have left such a remark. I think Hyuna must have known this character’s most fragile side, the one few others see, which is why she said that. And once Luka begins to confront those feelings, he might find them overwhelmingly difficult to endure.

But the moment has come for him to face things, hasn’t it? After all, he’s an adult now...

In short: him and Hyuna might actually be much similar in the core than we thought it might have been, that's a possibility. After all, I don't think Hyuna would have loved someone who's actually so ignorant and indifferent about freedom. Luka's earliest behavior suggests the opposite of that, he may have recoiled because that desire brought about him too much of a shock.

[its-stayville-forever]

@astraystayyh

[britneyshakespeare]

I can't believe the Younger Brother (1689) by Aphra Behn has the only one bed trope

[carwoodron]

finished the first chapter of my fic and it's down to 8k from the 16k original draft!!!!! everybody clap

[some-teeth-in-a-trench-coat]

[ID: a gif of Senshi from the anime Dungeon Meshi, giving a thumbs up/End ID]

"craving a food means your body needs something that food can offer" now what the fuck does my body need with an ice cream

[brightdeadthing]

.

[dailymanners]

Tips and ideas for how to respond when someone is being rude to you

For personal reasons I won't get into, I have a history of just freezing when some is rude / hostile / aggressive / condescending / patronizing / etc. It's obviously not something I'm happy about at all, most people who freeze or fawn aren't happy about it and would change it if they could.

One day I confided in my co-worker, a middle aged woman in her 50's, that this is something I struggle with. Considering how confident and assertive she always struck me as, I was shocked when she told me this is also something she's struggled with.

The advice she gave me is to just memorize and practice a few broad statements or reactions that you can pull out of your pocket so to speak when someone is being rude or disrespectful to you. It's not easy if you're someone who's been conditioned to freeze or fawn, but practice helps. Practice saying these things when you're alone. Put up a sticky note next to your bed or on your bathroom mirror with these phrases and practice them when you see them. Practice saying these with a partner or trusted friend, role-play scenarios where you might need to use these phrases.

Here's a few phrases that have worked for me. The nice thing about them is that they tend to shut down the situation rather than escalating, while still letting the aggressor know that you don't find their behavior acceptable.

"Are you okay?"

This works well in professional settings, because it's not like your work place's residential bully can run to HR about you asking if they're okay (but they might if you try to retaliate and give them a taste of their own medicine). However, it still effectively sends the message "I think there's something wrong with your behavior and don't accept it". It's also not likely the response they're expecting, so it'll likely throw them off and prevent further verbal aggression.

"Could you repeat that for me? I didn't catch what you said."

This one is most effective for people you believe to actually have a conscious and might regret what they said if they actually thought about it a little more. I find that often when I do this one, when people repeat the rude/snippy/patronizing/etc thing they either shamefully stumble over their words and show some remorse, or they change altogether what they say. In the off chance they don't regret what they said and end up repeating exactly what they said, this at least buys you some time to think of a better reaction since you're no longer caught off guard by a sudden rude and snippy remark.

"Can you explain what you mean by that?"

Similar logic to the last one. Often when people are being rude/snippy/patronizing/etc they're caught up in their own emotions in that moment and didn't think it through. This is a polite and civil way of putting their rude behavior in the spotlight and making them reconsider what they said. The other advantage to this one is that in case you did misread their intentions and they meant no harm by what they said or did, this gives them an opportunity to clarify that, instead of you just feeling bad over a statement or actions they actually had no ill intentions with.

If anyone has any further examples of reactions / responses / statements that have worked for them, I'd love to hear about them. I'm new to studying the art of how to civilly yet effectively shut down bad behavior from others, so I'm always open to hearing more suggestions.

[lowkeyren]

in which : alhaitham speaks to you in 5 different languages, unaware that you understand every word he says.

wc 7.3k (pls give it a chance lol), academic rivals to lovers, unrequited hate, attempt at humor, college au, denial + pinning.. crazy ik, he falls first (and harder), tw stalking by a drunkard, a genius on paper but a total dumbass when it comes to crushes, lil smau at the end!, ft. sumeru gang. art by @/gamegatchihaja on x.

ps. translations ay nasa maliliit na titik, katulad neto!!

ps. translations will be in small letters, like this!!

PROLOGUE: GOD I HATE THIS GUY! (DOES HE THINK IM STUPID?)

the semester is nearing its conclusion, and the imminent approach of finals marks the most critical period of the year; students rush through the halls, clutching their notes and textbooks like lifelines, while you pour every ounce of effort into your studies —not just for your grades, but also to surpass a certain arrogant scholar. 

alhaitham. 

the name tastes like spoiled milk on your tongue, a sour reminder of all the times he’s bested you, even if it’s just by a small margin, leaving you dumbfounded when the difference between your marks during the last exam was a mere 1%. 

you were groveling in front of your professor, “please, just round the marks up?” you could practically feel your dignity slipping away. and the worst part? you were so desperate that you started mentally calculating how many odd jobs you’d be willing to do just to sweeten the deal. 

(maybe you’ll help organize the office, run around the campus to buy him drinks every day, or even wipe down the windows of his car…)

disclaimer: he ultimately said no, but he did compliment your impeccable taste in coffee so, a win is a win? 

anyhow, alhaitham’s nonchalance only adds to your frustration, especially when he switches to a different language mid-conversation. it feels like he’s rubbing salt in your wounds, why of course you can understand him perfectly —after all, you aren’t majoring in linguistics for no reason, plus he's not the only one who’s fluent in multiple languages.

though you keep that to yourself, perhaps because the things he says in those languages, which he assumes you don’t understand, are far from innocent, unknowingly letting you have a glimpse into his true feelings. 

ACT I: WHOLEHEARTEDLY, I DETEST YOU. 

alhaitham would never fall in love —such irrational and illogical emotions held no value to him. 

that was what he always believed, but then he saw you. 

the way you laughed so unapologetically at cyno’s jokes, how you always stood firm by your beliefs, your refusal to compromise who you are; you were a breath of fresh air in a world that often felt stifling.

as much as he tries to act unfazed, he can't help the heat prickling his skin nor the way his composure falters just slightly in your presence. and when his heart raced for the first time in what felt like forever, he knew —he was completely, utterly screwed.

(“fix me, kaveh.” / “hah. who do you think i am, ‘y/n’?”)

when kaveh told him that he just had a simple “crush”, he nearly rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might get stuck there permanently.)

likewise, this ugly arrogant handsome bastard here, is one you’ll never fall in love with. 

he’s infuriating, completely insufferable, and yet there’s something about him, something hidden beneath that arrogance, that draws you in. the idea that you could ever fall for someone like him seems laughable, impossible even. he's exactly the kind of person you should avoid and you know better than to be charmed by someone like him. yet, there's that nagging feeling, deep down, that perhaps you’re not as immune to him as you think.

by some stroke of luck, you’re in the same major, same year, and even enrolled in the same lecture periods, which means you end up in the same place at the same time more often than not.

but you can’t deny that, in some twisted way, you admire him. his intellect is beyond impressive, even if it annoys you to admit it. so surely, in his eyes, you’re still inferior, and you often wonder if he even considers your ideas as worthy of attention.

(they are.)

ACT II: YOUR WATCHFUL EYES, I CAN’T IGNORE.

your pen glides across the pages as you jot down notes, fully absorbed in your studies, barely registering the faint sound of distant chatter.

unbeknownst to you, a group of students has gathered just outside the lecture hall, peeking in from the door with curious, amused expressions. they’re clearly there for you, exchanging glances and murmurs, waiting for the moment you step outside.

you don’t notice, but alhaitham, seated a few feet away, certainly does.

his eyes narrow slightly as he takes in the scene. he doesn’t say anything at first, but his jaw clenches ever so subtly. as you begin to pack up, you glance up to find him standing in front of you, his tall figure effectively blocking the group outside’s direct line of sight to you.

with a discreet glance over his shoulder, he shoots them a cold, unmistakable glare. they visibly shudder, seemingly getting the message as they awkwardly shuffle away. 

“what was that about?”

alhaitham leans against your desk, “nothing important,” his tone is dismissive, laced with irritation, his gaze still fixed on the now-empty doorway. 

you narrow your eyes, unimpressed. “really? you just scared them off for no reason?”

“just getting rid of some… distractions,” he says casually, turning his attention back towards you. you raise an eyebrow, clearly not believing his words. “distractions? they weren’t bothering me.” 

his expression remains impassive, “khi họ cứ để ý đến em như vậy… em thấy không phiền, còn tôi thì có.”

“seeing them constantly paying attention to you… you're not bothered by it, but i am.”

“bởi vì cái cách mà em chú tâm hoàn toàn vào một việc gì đó…  nó quyến rũ vô cùng.”

because the way you completely focus on something… is truly mesmerising.

you blink, feeling a momentary flush of confusion and surprise at the words slipping from his mouth. did he just—? but before you can fully process it, he continues.

“vậy nên tôi cũng không thể trách họ khi họ muốn nhìn em gần và lâu hơn được.”

so i don’t blame them when they want to look at you closer and longer.

his words linger in the air, a moment passes before it clicks —he doesn’t think you understand. that’s why he’s speaking so… freely; letting slip things he’d never say outright in a language you both speak fluently.

“nhưng mà… chắc không ai trong số bọn họ có thể sánh ngang với tôi, em nhỉ?”

but… none of them can compare to me, right?

your chest tightens as a surge of warmth courses through you. 

his detached attitude only fuels your irritation. but there’s also a certain satisfaction in knowing something he doesn’t: you’ve understood every single word he’s said.

feigning ignorance, you raise an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with what you hope is a neutral expression. "what are you going on about?" you ask.

his expression remains as stoic as ever, not a single crack in his mask. he simply shrugs, eyes still on you, "just telling you to focus more.”

your grip on the pen tightens, there's a part of you that wants to wipe that smug look off his face, to show him you're not as clueless as he assumes. but not yet —you’re curious to see just how far he’s willing to push.

"right," you mutter under your breath, tapping the pen against your notebook. "focus. got it."

he leans down slightly, one arm resting on the back of your chair while the other presses against the table, effectively caging you in.

"you're wasting time, finals are coming up." he takes a brief pause before continuing, "i wish you the best of luck, you’ll need it.”

your eyes snap up to him in a glare, “don’t you have somewhere to be?" you bite back.

alhaitham straightens, giving you a final glance before turning towards the door. “naturally, i have studying to do.”

“bởi vì tôi sẽ chứng minh cho em thấy rằng chỉ có tôi mới xứng tầm làm đối thủ học thuật của em, không một ai khác.”

because i will prove to you that only i am worthy of being your rival, no one else.

why did he frame it as if it’s a privilege only he can claim? or is he trying to… flatter you?!

you shake your head, no way, that’s ridiculous. finals are coming up, there’s no time to dwell on whatever mind games he’s playing. though if the almighty alhaitham wants a rival, then you’ll show him exactly what it means to stand at the pinnacle.

ACT III: IN MY DREAMS, I SCORED HIGHER THAN YOU.

you’re tired, the kind of tired that seeps deep into your bones. every blink stretches longer than the last and you find it increasingly difficult to focus on the words in front of you. stifling a yawn, you feel the pull of sleep tugging at you, whispering sweet promises of rest.

there’s still time till your next class.

maybe you'll take a moment to close your eyes, just for a few seconds…

did you not get enough sleep last night, or did you stay up late studying again? alhaitham watches silently from across the room, his eyes narrowing as your head droops lower, your exhaustion becoming painfully obvious with each passing second. his gaze lingers on the way your pen pauses mid-sentence, the line on your notebook trailing off as your hand grows heavy.

he pushes himself up from his seat, and approaches your desk; he notices the sunlight streaming through the window, harsh and unrelenting, hitting right over the table where you’re sitting. he looks at you —eyes closed, with the faintest crease of discomfort on your brow.

without a word, he reaches out and slips the pen from your grip, the slight shift causing your fingers to twitch, but you don’t wake. 

for a fleeting second, he considers waking you. but then, as you shift again, settling more comfortably into your chair, he decides against it. what good would that do, anyway? you’d probably just brush him off and keep going until you collapse from sheer fatigue. typical.

instead, he adjusts his stance slightly, positioning himself just right to make sure the sunlight is fully blocked from your face, casting you in a cool shadow. 

you mumble something incoherent, and he can’t help but roll his eyes at your state. did you really think burning yourself out like this would help you focus?

“stubborn,” he mutters under his breath. 

you're always like this, pushing yourself past your limits, and while part of him respects your determination to outdo him, he won’t allow it to come at the expense of your health.

you stir from your slumber, lifting your head, your gaze lands on a familiar figure standing to the side of your table. his back turned, facing the sunlight that streams in from the window. 

alhaitham. 

he’s close, so close that his broad shoulders completely block out the sunlight from the window. the sight sends a rush of confusion through your already sleep-addled mind. did he… stand there the whole time? why? 

you shift slightly in your seat, your movement catching his attention. without turning, he speaks in that low, steady tone of his, “you’re awake.”

“alhaitham?” you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

he glances over his shoulder, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the calm expression on his face. “you’ve been out for a while,” he comments, a hint of amusement in his voice. “i was starting to think you’d sleep through your next class.”

you rub the sleep from your eyes, “why didn’t you wake me up then?”

his shoulders shift slightly as he shrugs, still facing away from you. “you looked like you needed the rest. besides, it’s more entertaining to see how long you’d stay asleep.”

a flicker of annoyance courses through you as you roll your eyes, “oh, so you mean you care?”

he turns slightly, and you can see a hint of a smirk on his lips. “don’t read too much into it. i just prefer my competition functioning at their best.”

you wish you could roll your eyes harder because this man has an uncanny talent for grating on your nerves while somehow being insufferably charming at the same time.

“ah yes —because you need me to keep up with you,” you remark sarcastically.

“exactly.” you let out an exasperated sigh as you lean back in your chair. “you really think so highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“mushiro, kimi no koto o hijō ni takaku hyōka shiteiru yo.”

if anything, i think highly of you. 

your brows knit together in surprise, and you can’t help but scoff. “what was that? i didn't catch it.”

“i said i won’t go easy on you.” oh, the audacity. he’s lying again, and he knows it.

the corners of your mouth twitch in disbelief as you scrutinise his expression. there’s that familiar glimmer in his eyes, a spark of mischief that tells you he’s enjoying this too much.

“whatever,” you retort, crossing your arms defiantly. “not like i want you to anyway.”

despite your words, you can't deny that his actions earlier were surprisingly endearing. you wonder how long he intends to keep this up. perhaps it’s time you let him know.

“ii ne, kimi ga iraira shite iru toki wa kawaiikara.”

good, because you’re cute when you’re all riled up.

you feel a blush creep into your cheeks at his words, okay maybe you shouldn’t let him know. you instinctively look away, as if avoiding his gaze can help you regain your composure.

cute? what does he mean “cute”?! he thinks he can get away with calling you cute —well… well, there’s not much you can do about it, you’re not ready to confront him about this either.

the mere thought of asking him directly makes your stomach twist with a year’s worth of embarrassment. yet, as you try to refocus on the book in front of you, you find yourself biting your lip, struggling to suppress a smile that threatens to break free.

ACT IV: I WOKE UP TODAY, AND A DREAM CAME TRUE.

the hallway buzzes with excitement as students gather around the large announcement board, eager to see the results of their theses. you push through the crowd, heart pounding, the low hum of chatter filling your ears. 

when you reach the front, you quickly scan the list; the moment your eyes land on your name, your breath catches in your throat.

there it is, in bold red ink at the top of the board —a score higher than you’d ever hoped for, higher than his. and your name, on top of his.

alhaitham.

you glance over and spot him approaching the board, approaching you. his expression is, as always, unreadable. but you know him well enough by now to catch the slight pause in his movements, the brief moment where his eyes linger just a second too long on the board.

you try not to think too much about it as you collect your thesis, with alhaitham following closely behind, his fingers nearly grazing yours as you both sift through the stack of papers on the table.

you take in the glowing praise from your professor, each word making you feel like every all-nighter was worth it. you clutch the paper, resisting the urge to grin like an idiot. 

glancing sideways, you wait for him to say something, maybe some backhanded comment, but he remains silent. your eyes meet, and there’s a shift in his gaze as the usual sharpness in his eyes dulls ever so slightly, your smile lingering like the first light of dawn breaking through the night's embrace.

it’s subtle —just a flicker —but you catch how his gaze falters, softening, if only for a heartbeat. the edges of his stare blur, drawn to the warmth of your expression as though it’s something he hadn’t meant to witness, yet can’t look away from. 

at this moment,

"looks like i finally beat you," you say, not bothering to suppress the grin spreading across your face now.

he feels like

there’s no scowl, no sign of frustration —just the slightest raise of an eyebrow. “hmm. by a point.” he pauses, studying you for a second longer than necessary before returning his gaze to his paper. “enjoy it while it lasts.”

he's in heaven.

it’s as if he’s not bothered by the outcome at all. in fact, if anything, he seems... satisfied?

"hindi dapat ganito kalala ang epekto ng ngiti mo sa akin."

your smile shouldn't affect me this badly.

“—huh?” your mouth drops slightly open at his words; out of everything, you didn’t expect him to say that. it catches you off guard, making your heart race just a little faster. if you peer closely enough, you might catch a glimpse of the gentle arch of his lips, a ghost of a smile. 

the silence stretches on for a beat too long before he clears his throat and shifts his gaze away from you. “ang iyong ngiti ang pinakamagandang tanawin ng aking araw.”

your smile is the most beautiful sight of my day.

“what?” the word slips from your lips, barely a breath, a soft gasp that hangs in the air. it feels almost surreal and you wonder if you’ve misheard him.

each heartbeat thunders in your ears, a rhythm that matches the erratic flutter in your chest. why is he saying these things, what for in a different language…? there’s no way that he—

"—tulad mo na ang hinangad ko na ligawan, ngunit sa bawat ngiti mo, halip ay mas lalo akong nahulog para sayo."

—like you, who i wish to court, but with every smile, i instead found myself falling for you. 

your breath hitches as your heart stumbles, the implications of his words washing over you like a wave. a rush of heat floods your cheeks, “what… did you say?”

his shoulders stiffen, and there’s a subtle tension in the way his fingers curl against the paper he’s holding. “see you tomorrow, [name],” he mutters, his voice low but hurried, and before you know it, he’s already walking away.

two strange things happened today: 

1. you finally beat your sworn enemy!

2. said enemy… complimented you? 

huh, it’s as if the words slipped out before he could catch them, as if he’s been holding them in for far too long, as if… you notice the way his neck reddens, even as he turns away.

behind the door, alhaitham lets out a quiet breath.

“gago… nagkamali ba ako?”

stupid… did i make a mistake?

to his dismay, an annoyingly familiar voice cuts through the silence. kaveh, who had been waiting just down the hall, notices him standing there, a little too still. 

“oh, what do we have here?" there's a slight pause, followed by a raised eyebrow. "is that—no way, your face is red!” kaveh teases, amusement dancing in his eyes. “what happened there?" he leans in, clearly enjoying himself. "come on, spill the tea..!” 

"not a chance," alhaitham retorts, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms defensively.

just then, kaveh spots cyno and tighnari; grinning, he waves them over. “what’s going on? did alhaitham finally crack under pressure?”

alhaitham would rather reorganise the entire library than listen to kaveh recount what happened.

“i’m leaving.” 

"no, i'm afraid you're not getting out of this one.” cyno steps forward, blocking alhaitham’s path; and tighnari, who has been quietly observing till now, chimes in, “don’t leave us hanging.”

“you’re outnumbered.” 

alhaitham sighs and shakes his head. he hadn’t even thought it was physically possible for him, of all people, to do something as ridiculous as blushing —until today.

(on the other side of the door, their banter echoes through, and you can’t help but chuckle to yourself at alhaitham’s misery.)

ACT V: PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY, YOU SAY? BUT EVERYONE CALLS IT FLIRTING.

“i think alhaitham likes [name].”

the whole table falls silent before kaveh dramatically slams his glass down on the table, causing a splash of alcohol to spill over the edge. “oh finally, it’s so obvious! have you all seen the way he looks at them?” 

across the table, tighnari taps his fingers absentmindedly on his notebook, his attention only half on kaveh’s (incoming) rant but clearly invested enough, as shown by the slight twitching of his ears, to be listening. 

cyno snickers, “you’re telling me the man who can dissect any philosophical argument can’t handle a little crush? that’s rich.”

kaveh waves a hand dismissively. “come on! remember that time they were partnered up for a project? he was so... uncharacteristically patient! i’d almost say it’s cute if it weren’t alhaitham we’re talking about!”

right, it’d be almost endearing —if it weren’t coming from the most stoic, intimidatingly aloof guy in the entire school. it’d be adorable —if it weren’t alhaitham, who instinctively covers the corner of your table with his hand when you drop your pencil, ensuring you won’t hit your head as you bend down to retrieve it.

oh, you don’t notice (of course not). but your friend dehya, sitting nearby, catches the whole scene out of the corner of her eye. she raises an eyebrow, nudging the girl beside her. 

(“candace, do you see that shit.” / “yeah.”)

“a soft spot for [name], you say? well, i’ve got a story of my own, too.” cyno glances around, ensuring no one else is within earshot, then lowers his voice conspiratorially.  “have you noticed? he doesn’t wear his earphones when he’s around them.”

kaveh pipes up, nodding eagerly.

“he’s got those earphones practically glued to his head, he doesn’t hear anything he doesn’t want to, and he certainly doesn’t talk unless he’s forced to. but around them?” cyno pauses, pretending to think for a while. “not once. he’ll put them away entirely, like he’s actually willing to be… present.”

sure it’s small, subtle, the kind of habit no one would pick up on unless they were looking closely. but to anyone who knew alhaitham well, it tells them more than words ever could. 

for him, actions speak louder than words, even if he often doesn’t realise the meaning behind his own gestures.

his earphones slide down, resting forgotten around his neck, all so he can be close enough to catch the delightful lilt of your laughter. his chair inches a fraction closer, seemingly by accident. a subtle upward twitch at the corner of his mouth, so fleeting and often passing so quickly if one weren’t paying attention.

for him, it’s a language without words.

dehya laughs softly. "for someone who supposedly ‘doesn’t like being bothered,’ he sure seems invested in whatever [name] has to say."

and what sealed their suspicions? 

definitely the time when kaveh complimented nilou’s new bracelet. he glanced over at the man beside him, nudging him lightly. “what do you think?”

alhaitham gave the bracelet a cursory glance, before replying, “it’s nice.” though his gaze flickered back; and almost absently, he added after a pause, “[name] has the same one too.”

oh… oh? well that was oddly specific. kaveh’s eyebrow quirked as he fought to suppress a grin.

alhaitham had noticed a detail seemingly insignificant about [name] —the kind of thing he never cared to show the slightest interest in when it came to anyone else.

the glint in nilou’s eyes seemed to mirror kaveh’s unspoken thoughts, silently agreeing with his suspicions.  

now they’re certain —100% sure, in fact —that alhaitham has a crush on you.

“well, speak of the devil… lovely seeing you here, alhaitham,” kaveh quips. tighnari, ever observant, gives him a pointed look. “your jacket’s missing.”

“someone took it,” alhaitham replies, his tone as composed as always, giving nothing away.

—nothing until you walked past. draped over your shoulders, unmistakable, is alhaitham’s jacket. you don’t notice the way every pair of eyes follows you, or the way kaveh barely stifles a triumphant laugh.

...make that 110%.

(translation: he means he borrowed his jacket because [name] was cold.)

ACT VI: IT’S YOU, WHO COMES TO MY RESCUE. 

the quiet night hangs heavy, the road empty and bathed in the dim glow of distant streetlights. you weave through the streets, but no matter how many twists and turns you take, that weirdo just won’t leave you alone.  

he’s been trailing behind you for blocks now, his persistence grating on your nerves, cornering you with endless “compliments” and invasive questions. you’ve tried to shake him off, but his determination far exceeds your patience.

"come on, just give me a chance," he insists, stepping closer, a little too close for comfort. you take a step back. the smell of alcohol reeks from his breath, and his grin is making your skin crawl. 

"i told you, i’m not interested," you say firmly, keeping your voice steady, but the panic was starting to creep in. you glance at the empty bottle in his hand —he’s definitely drunk out his mind.

“you sure?" he completely ignores your clear discomfort. "how about you just give me your number, yeah?" he slurs out.

"no, i have a boyfriend." you lie through your teeth, hoping that would be enough to make him back off.

unfortunately, he’s as insufferable as he is persistent.

he snorts dismissively, "yeah, right. a boyfriend? you’re just playing hard to get."

you sigh, you aren’t in the mood for this, not here, not now, and especially not with someone like him. "i already told you, i have a boyfriend," your voice now tinged with frustration. "so please, just leave me alone.”

"oh, don't be like that," he steps in front of you, blocking your way. "prove it. call your boyfriend. show me you’re not lying."

your heart races as the man reaches out for you, dodging his hand, you take the chance to look behind him for an escape. just then, you see an all-too-familiar figure in the distance. 

alhaitham. 

you barely manage to suppress a relieved sigh as you wave frantically in his direction. he spots you almost immediately and without hesitation, he rushes over.

"what, this your boyfriend?" the guy sneers with derision, still sounding a little too cocky for someone who was about to get a reality check.

alhaitham steps beside you, you can feel his eyes on you for just a brief moment, the faintest flicker of worry flashing across his face. it’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you catch it—and it makes your chest tighten.

his voice is low, unmistakably carrying a warning, "yes, i’m their boyfriend. and if you don’t want things to escalate, i suggest you leave." 

the man’s face twists as anger flares in his bloodshot eyes. he takes a step forward, his grip tightening around the neck of the bottle, the glass slightly cracking. "you think you can tell me what to do?" he slurs, gaze wild and unfocused. “y-you think you’re some kind of saviour? *hic* a-and you! how… how dare you reject me?!”

alhaitham doesn’t move, his expression cold and unbothered, and that only seems to make the man angrier. his frustration boils over, and with a snarl, he clumsily swings the bottle in his hand, aggressively lurching towards your direction. 

the world seems to slow for a moment. though before you can even react, alhaitham pulls you firmly behind him with one swift motion, his other arm instinctively rising to shield the both of you from the blow. the sound of glass meeting his forearm is sharp and jarring —you can hear the high-pitched tinkle of glass scattering, the jagged shards bouncing off the pavement, and some skittering across the ground.

but he doesn’t even flinch, his stance unwavering as the man stumbles back, glass crunching underfoot. you’re still frozen from shock, your heart racing in your chest as you watch the scene unfold. 

“big mistake,” he starts, and the man visibly falters. “harassment, assault —keep this up, and you’ll regret every choice that brought you here tonight.”

the man shifts around, clearly disoriented. his eyes dart between you and alhaitham, but it’s clear that the fight’s already left him. “you— you can’t do this!” the man stammers, trying to regain some semblance of courage; unfortunately for him, the tremor in his voice is unmistakable. 

“do you really want to find out?” alhaitham asks, to which the man shakes his head vigorously. “get lost,” he mutters. the man, looking more pathetic than threatening now, quickly stumbles away, mumbling incoherent curses under his breath.

you’re breathless, still clutching the edge of his jacket, fingers trembling slightly as the adrenaline courses through you. 

"are you alright?"

you nod, forcing a small, unconvincing smile."yeah... i’m fine. thanks to you." 

alhaitham’s eyes narrow slightly, scanning you for any sign of injury. you follow his gaze instinctively, glancing down at yourself. that’s when you notice it —not on you, but on him.

streaks of red stain his forearm, where jagged shards of glass must have cut him during the confrontation. the gash bleeds steadily, a dark line of blood seeping through the fabric of his jacket.

"wait," you breathe, your heart sinking. "you're bleeding."

your stomach twists with guilt.

"why didn’t you say anything?" you exclaim.

he shakes his head, a dismissive gesture that does nothing to ease the knot forming in your stomach. "it’s nothing," he says, but the slight furrow in his brow and the tension in his jaw betray his words.

"nothing?" you fix him with a hard glare. "idiot… you just blocked a glass bottle with your arm, don’t try to downplay this."  

you grab his sleeve, tugging it gently but firmly, the fabric sliding beneath your fingers as you pull it up. “—and unless you think an infection is ‘nothing’, you’ll let me take care of this."  

"hold still," you murmur as you settle beside him on the couch, your supplies spread across the coffee table in front of you.

the scent of antiseptic fills the air as you take a disinfectant wipe and gently dab it against the gash. the sting of the alcohol makes him flinch slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. you mutter a soft apology, your movements slow and deliberate as you try to be as gentle as you can.

you open a tube of ointment, squeezing a small amount onto your finger before smoothing it carefully along the edges of the cut. the cool gel glides over his skin, and you can feel the tension in his arm ease ever so slightly under your touch.

“nǐ zhème guān xīn wǒ, huì ràng wǒ wù huì de.”

if you care so much about me, i might misunderstand you.

your fingers pause briefly, the words catching you off guard. you glance up at him, but he only averts his gaze, his eyes remaining fixed on a distant spot beyond the room.

misunderstand? misunderstand what, exactly?

the bandage wraps securely around his arm as you smooth it into place. as you tuck the end of the bandage, his voice comes again, just as soft, but no less clear. 

“—wù huì nǐ duì wǒ yǒu gǎn jué.”

"—misunderstand that you have feelings for me."

your brain short-circuits, and in your shock, your hands jerk. in turn, the bandage tightens way too much, causing him to wince and tense up. before you can apologise, he lets out a light chuckle.

“suǒ yǐ nǐ dān xīn wǒ… nǐ shì bù shì gù yì ràng rén xīn dòng de?”

“so you're worried about me… are you purposely trying to make my heart race?”

his words only make you more flustered, and you find yourself fumbling to fix the bandage. “i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to—”

his chuckle only grows softer, and you catch the glint of amusement in his eyes. “it’s fine.”

you quickly finish adjusting the bandage, trying to focus on anything other than how your heart is now racing. (ironically) 

“you seem flustered,” he comments casually, as if he isn’t the one who just made your head spin. “did i say something wrong?”

you shake your head quickly, hoping to hide the flush creeping up your neck. "no, not at all.”

his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smirk.

"nǐ bù bì yǎn shì, wǒ xǐ huān nǐ hài xiū de yàng zǐ, tǐng kě ài de.”

“you don’t have to hide it. i like seeing your flustered expression, it’s quite cute.”

(oh this bastard!!!!)

you try to speak, but the words get stuck in your throat. what do you say when someone’s teasing you so openly —and they think you don’t even realise it?

after a long moment, he stands, “it’s getting late, i should get going.” alhaitham gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment —and there it was, that trace of softness reserved only for you.

he heads toward the door, you watch him, feeling a strange sense of emptiness when he turns away.

“i’ll see you,” he pauses. "...and thank you for tending to me."

you watch him leave, the door clicking softly behind him, and the silence settles back into the room.

you blink, taking a deep breath. what a rollercoaster of a day. yawning, you turn to start tidying up, but your eyes land on something on the couch.

it’s his jacket, draped over the armrest. you notice a tear on the sleeve, just where his injured forearm had been. what truly catches your attention, however, is a folded piece of paper slipping out of the pocket. 

intrigued, you unfold it, revealing his neat, precise handwriting. 

ACT VII: THE SECRET I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN. 

To [Name],  I once believed you to be little more than a nuisance. A bright, well-meaning nuisance, no doubt, but a nuisance nonetheless. One who seemed intent only on striving for perfection, always seeking to best me at every turn, not out of malice but out of some earnest desire to prove your worth. In my arrogance, I mistook your relentless pursuit for a need for recognition, as if you sought my attention in some petty rivalry. Though very quickly, you made me think otherwise.  You saw the world differently, you also saw me differently. You didn’t treat me with the reverence others seemed to, nor did you shy away from challenging me. You refused to be seen as anything other than yourself; and that, in itself, was what made me admire you —what made me long to understand you more. Now, I find that I am standing with half a heart and an emptiness I never knew I could feel, because you showed me what it truly means to crave something more, something I never thought I deserved. You may think I’m a coward for not expressing my feelings more directly, perhaps you are right. I am a coward for fearing to lay bare the vulnerability of my heart. But even in my cowardice, know that my thoughts have always been of you.  If you have seen through my silence and hesitation, if you understand my actions when my words fail me, then perhaps you have already known this truth. I care for you, more deeply than I can fully express. Though I may never be able to say these things as openly as I wish, I’d like you to know that my actions have always been my confession. Even now, I’m still a coward for you. So please, if you decide to give me a chance, I’ll be waiting at nightfall. Helplessly,  Alhaitham. 

you absentmindedly trace the edges of the letter with your fingers while your eyes skim over his writing for the nth time, the ink seeming to blur together with your thoughts as you try to process everything. your fingers curl around the fabric of his jacket, a foolish smile creeping onto your face.

tomorrow’s nightfall feels impossibly far away, yet you can’t wait for it. 

alhaitham lays on his bed, his arm aches slightly from the injury, but it’s nothing he can’t ignore. plus, the bandage you had carefully wrapped around his arm is enough to keep the discomfort at bay. 

(originally, he had only planned to meet you, slip you the note, and be on his way. things didn’t go exactly to plan, but either way, he hopes you’ve read it by now.)

of all the possibilities, he’s never accounted for the one he’d be at mercy of his own emotions; he had always prided himself on his rationality, his restraint. but now? he’s reckless, absurd, foolish even —he can admit that to himself. but he finds he doesn’t care in the slightest.

for as much as he is a coward in your presence, he is just as much a fool in your absence.

ACT VIII: UNDER THE RAIN, I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY. 

“alhaitham isn’t really an expressive person, so don’t worry if he comes off as distant or uninterested. it’s not that he doesn’t care, he just… shows it differently.”

ah well, ‘differently’ indeed.

“—most importantly, alhaitham doesn’t waste time on people he doesn’t care about, so you must mean a lot to him.”

maybe you didn’t mind how your heart raced when you heard that.

“don’t fuss over it [name], you’ll know when he’s in love.”

how so? 

if he was in love, what would it look like? would you be able to tell, or would it be just another one of those things you had to catch on to?

you wrapped the his jacket tighter around yourself, a faint smile tugging at your lips. it wasn’t the answers to those questions that mattered, but asking them in the first place —that was what made you realize you already knew all along.

the evening air is cool against your skin; a gentle breeze stirs the trees, their leaves rustling quietly, and your heart beats louder than ever, urging you forward.

in the distance, you spot him, standing still in the dim light. and without a second thought, you quicken your pace.

“haitham.”

the sound of your voice catches his attention as he turns to face you; you can’t help but notice how his gaze flickers down for just a moment, his eyes taking in on how his jacket looks on you, before meeting yours. 

his posture is unnervingly perfect, rigid almost to the point of stiffness …is he nervous?

“hey,” he finally says, clearing his throat. “there’s something i need to tell you… though you’ve probably already figured it out. you’ve always been sharp.” 

“i… ” he falters, and it’s the first time you see him hesitate. “i’m not sure how to put it… since i’m not exactly great at this.”

you tilt your head, subtly urging him to continue. 

“but you’ve managed to make me care about things i never thought i would. and now i can’t seem to stop thinking about it —about you.” his voice lowers, softer now, but there’s a rawness there that’s unmistakable.

“i’m telling you this now, because not saying it... doesn’t feel right anymore."

suddenly, you feel a soft mist that barely kisses your skin, a slight chill against your cheeks, then a few tiny drops,  until they start to gather in your hair, the beads of water slipping down the back of your neck, but you don't move. neither does he.

his hair is damp, sticking to his forehead, droplets trailing down his temple. his clothes cling to his frame, soaked by the rain, yet his attention remains solely on you.

“[name], i am irrevocably in love with you.”

you stand there, the rain falling relentlessly around you, the pitter-patter mirroring the frantic beat of your heart. the water trails down his face, but it’s hard to tell if it’s just the rain, or something else.

his lips part, as though he wants to say more, but the words seem caught in the storm, swallowed up by the downpour. the rain is cold, but his gaze? his gaze feels impossibly warm. 

it’s only when you feel the dampness of his jacket beneath your fingers, that the words finally come. “you don’t need to convince me of that.”

you take a step closer, and for a moment, the world outside seems to disappear.

“i’ve known,” you add. “but hearing you say it,” you pause, allowing yourself a small smile, “makes all the difference.”

reaching up, your fingers graze his damp skin as you gently push a wet strand of hair from his forehead, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cool skin. 

“'uhibuk aydan, alhaitham.”

i love you too, alhaitham.

a single droplet slides down his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw before falling to the soaked fabric of his collar. another follows. and then another. his breath catches in his throat, and a shaky exhale leaves his mouth.

you wrap your arms around him, and he sinks into your embrace, his hair tickling your cheeks, as his chest rises and falls against yours.

“you’re gonna make me cry too, idiot,” you murmur, burying your face in his chest, your eyes glassy. “you really are a fool,” you tease softly, a slight smile playing on your lips. “but only for me.”

slowly, his hands rise, trembling slightly, until they cup your cheeks, gently stroking it. 

“la yujad 'ahad akhar 'urid 'an 'akun 'ahmaq min 'ajlihi.”

there’s no one else i’d ever want to be a fool for.

his palms are surprisingly warm despite the weather. his thumb grazes your cheekbone as he leans in, and the world falls away —nothing but the warmth of his presence and the soft press of his lips against yours.

“this is my first time in ten years seeing this guy cry! can you believe it?!” kaveh whisper-shouts, peeking out from behind the shrub. 

nodding along, cyno agrees, poking his head out just right below the blond’s. “[name] is truly exceptional. though i must say, seeing alhaitham cry is quite tear-rifying.”

kaveh rolls his eyes in exasperation. “ugh, you and your puns.” he mutters under his breath while zooming in on his phone, which is currently recording the whole scene.

“quiet down, you two!” a voice hisses from behind them —tighnari, face flushed with panic. “they’re literally right there, and you’re making more noise than a herd of goats.”

“relax, we’re out of their line of sight anyway!” kaveh raises his phone higher, almost giddily, eyes glued to the screen. “and damn this is a good angle.”

tighnari exhales sharply, “you’re incorrigible.”

“look who’s talking,” cyno raises an eyebrow at tighnari… who’s also peeking out from behind the bush. (what a hypocrite)

…

“they kissed oh my g—” kaveh’s voice rises in disbelief, but cyno quickly covers his mouth with a swift hand. the three of them scramble to duck behind the bush just as you turn to glance in their direction.

(“is that… senior kaveh?” you squint your eyes, “cyno, and tighnari?” 

alhaitham clears his throat before glancing over at his friends with a deadpan expression. “yes and unfortunately, they’re very invested in my personal life. so please don’t mind them."

you laugh, finding the whole situation a bit too amusing. “not in the slightest, but i’m sure they’ll never let you hear the end of it.”)

EPILOGUE: IN EVERY LANGUAGE, I HEAR LOVE YOU.

“how long?”

you blink, feigning confusion. “how long what?”

alhaitham’s eyes narrow slightly, an expression you know well. “how long have you understood everything i’ve been saying?”

you bite back a smile and offer a small shrug, “...ever since you started?” 

his lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, you can’t tell if he’s upset or impressed. then, he sighs, almost amused. “and you let me embarrass myself all this time?”

“you were being honest,” you shrug, a smirk forming. “plus i knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “may ideya ka ba kung ano ginawa mo?"

do you have any idea what you’ve done?

"mas lalong umibig sakin?"

made you fall in love with me even more?

you tease, but there’s a tenderness in your voice that softens the edge of your words.

“yes, and you really are insufferable,” he mutters with no malice. his tone is different now. softer. warmer, even.

you lean in slightly, a playful glint in your eyes. “that’s not what i heard you say before.” your fingers graze the skin of his cheek before you tenderly pinch it, giggling softly at the reaction you provoked.

in one smooth motion, he catches your hand before you can pull away and tugs you towards him, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. you tilt your head back to meet alhaitham’s gaze.

you’ve often thought he’s the most-perfect boyfriend, undeniably handsome in every way —but there’s really just one flaw: his height.

“ugh, you’re too tall," you grumble, rubbing the back of your neck. "i’m having a neck sore just looking at you."

he quirks an eyebrow at your sudden words. “you could use a stepstool.” 

"or," you counter, "you could get on your knees and save me the trouble.”

he slowly lets out a breath, his lips curling ever so slightly. 

“'akida, 'antaziri hataa 'ashtari alkhatama.”

sure, just wait till i buy the ring.

"wh—" 

he crosses his arms, "what’s wrong? isn’t that what people expect when someone gets on their knees?"

you roll your eyes, half-smiling. "fine, then i’ll eagerly wait for that day.”

his gaze softens as his hand reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face; his eyes drop to your lips for a moment, and you know what’s coming even before he speaks.

this fic was not sponsored by duolingo, but with the help of my beloved friends!! wouldn't have been possible w/o em please give them a round of applause xx

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MASTERLIST.

[listentomerant]

just a character analysis about xo kitty, specifically how kitty falls in love:

it is very obvious that kitty needs a deep emotional bond to fall in love - its why she is very in love with dae when she first comes to KISS in season 1. dae lying to her makes them grow apart, because she can't trust him as much as she's used to, so she can't come to him with her problems. in addition, kitty needs her partner to be open and honest with her, but he doesn't give her that chance by not telling her about the fake relationship until it's too late. that is a large reason why they don't work anymore, and why she's already moved on mentally.

then you have yuri - kitty develops feelings for her as their emotional bond grows (they discover their mom's friendship, she helps with juliana, etc) . it's clear that she's still not over her when they get back. however, kitty does start to move on after yuri stops talking to her as they're fighting. i believe a key moment in this process is when kitty is trying to tell her something about her parents in the storage closet, and yuri just brushes her off. there's definitely some distance after that moment, which is cemented in ep 6, where kitty kind of confirms how much that hurt her and stops having k-drama moments with her.

this character analysis is not meant to throw either dae or yuri under the bus. they're both teenagers, dealing with a lot of outside issues that influence the way they act. dae couldn't be open with kitty in the way that she needed, and yuri is definitely self-centered (which she acknowledges, and tries to work on). kitty fell for both of them because they had that emotional connection, but when that connection falls apart, so do her romantic feelings.

the reason minho is the best partner for her (at the moment, at least) is that he's open with her, while also being consistently there for her (like in the hot tub scene). she doesn't see him as an option (even in the heist scene, he's not her first choice) until after her feelings for yuri have kind of gone away. then, she can see that minho gives her balance - unlike how dae never came to her, minho asks for her help with his fight with dae, showing that he can be open with her. unlike yuri, he helps her with her family stuff even when they were fighting, prioritizing kitty over residual anger he might have because he knows how much this means to her.

relationships are a give and take, and kitty needs that to form the emotional connection she needs to fall in love. over season 2, minho grows into the perfect person for her for all the reasons mentioned above. i hope season 3 will cement that relationship, because there was honestly so much development for these two and i love them so much.

[talaok]

Here comes the sun

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: Joel's old ass falls in love with you

warnings: none, it's just fluff and cliché writing

a/n: this month's four days of happiness are over, we're back to being depressed babygirls. This is just a silly lil thing i felt like writing cause my love life is nonexistent so i might as well imagine a man falling in love with me in my head.

He never thought it would happen again.

Not at his age, not with his past, not with the decisions he'd taken, things he'd had to do...

No, not to him.

And then... you came along.

With your kind eyes, your sweet words, your devilish smiles- and all of a sudden, everything he'd believed for so long, every single certainty he'd had about himself had crumbled to the ground.

Like a sand castle washed away by the sea, he'd found himself bare of all protections, of all the walls he'd built over the years,

he found himself to be just him,

not the asshole he'd become, not the monster he was sure to be, not the cruel things he'd done, he was just Joel, and you... for some reason, you hadn't cowered or run away at the sight, no, you didn't hate it, you liked it- him, somehow you liked him.

He never gave himself a chance to wonder why, he couldn't, he would have driven himself mad if he'd tried to find even just one reason.

Truly unlike his fashion, he had decided not to think about it too much, to enjoy it, whatever you two had, for as long as it lasted, because from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, he knew the sand had started slowly dripping down the hourglass, and his time would inevitably soon be over.

But before he could realize it, it had been over a month, and something even more extraordinary had happened,

something had changed, he had changed, and he'd stopped worrying- worrying about how long it would take for you to realize you deserved better, how long he could keep this up, how long before he was alone, once again,

because somewhere along the line, his logical thinking had made space for the scariest thing he'd ever experienced in his life,

the same one he was sure never to feel again,

love.

he was in love.

At his old age, butterflies fluttered in his belly and his poor heart skipped beats whenever he saw you.

And because he was so old, because he had stopped thinking long ago, he'd decided he was gonna tell you, right now, on that gloomy, winter day.

There was no point in waiting for a better occasion, a better day, better weather, not when every fiber of his being was jumping from excitement,

And besides, he smiled as the curtains of his window wavered just as you approached his house,

your gaze locking with one another's as that fucking smile pulled at your lips,

there was no need for a sunny day, he thought, not when the sun was coming to knock at his door this very moment.

[writing-fanics]

more than anything

Lucifer Morningstar x F!Reader

chapter i > chapter ii > chapter iii

[summary: Charlie Morningstar arrives in hell and meets someone from her dad's past when he was an angel.]

warning: mentions of depression: angst: seemingly unrequited love: loneliness: charlie might be ooc:

Charlie gasped her eyes widened with joy, clasping her hands together jumping up and down excitedly. "Are you Y/n?!" She asked, and the angel looked at her shocked, "You already know about me?" the angel looked at the princess of hell, in disbelief.

"Of course, I do!" She exclaimed, remembering the stories her father used to tell her about, [Y/n].

"My dad would tell me stories about you when I was little!" She said smiling, at [Y/n] who's body tensed up for a moment and her cheeks darkened a little. "Really?" She mumbled, under her breath looking away from the princess for a moment. "I thought he'd forgotten about me." She mumbled, her smile faltering for a moment. Before shaking her head. Forcing a smile on her face.

Charlie looked around the angel's office curiously, "So, your father?" said [Y/n], looking over at Charlie, smiling as she continued to look around the room. "So what did your father tell you about me?" She asked, and the princess of hell nodded.

"Good things I hope?" She said, and the princess of hell looked at the angel. "Of course, he said you were the only angel that believed in him." said Charlie, and the angel smiled reminiscing on times that have long since passed.

"We shared the same dream even adding some ideas onto each others, expanding on them. " said [Y/n], looking down her angelic wings seemed to go limp at her side as she frowned, "That was eons ago," She said, looking down.

Their conversation went on for what seemed like hours, the angel saw so much of the one she loved in his daughter. [Y/n] talked about Lucifer, and stories that he never told Charlie. Charlie watched as the angel's eyes sparkled as she talked about memories. [Y/n]'s heart seemed to swell, and then to suddenly falter back to sadness as she remembered, that she was to shy too scared to confess her feelings for the man she loved.

“You loved him didn’t you?” asked Charlie, and the angel looked over at her in shock and smiled softly, and chuckled softly. “Loved?” said [Y/n], and she smiled her eyes closed as she turned towards Charlie. “I still love him?” She said, her smile forced.

She said, “I couldn't bring myself to tell him,” She wrapped her arms around herself, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh. “I was afraid of ruining the friendship we already had.” She said, placing her hand on her head her thumb resting on her cheek, as she turned away from Charlie. Letting out a sigh, “I-If he didn’t accept my feelings, I didn't wanna lose what we already had." She bit her lip nervously, and turned back towards Charlie.

“S-So I didn’t." She said, looking at Charlie. The Princess of Hell, could see the sadness and loneliness in her eyes. Eyes that were filled with so much regret, "So, I watched as he fell in love with another." Her voice cracking slightly, clearing her throat she continued.

She pursed her lips inward, "Did and said nothing as he was banished to Hell," She looked down, "But, I can't take back what happened eons ago." She said, forcing a smile on her face as she looked at Charlie.

"So tell me about this Hazbin Hotel, I've been hearing so much about?" She asked, curiously and Charlie's eyes lit up. "Your father, wouldn't of set up a meeting with Heaven, without a reason." She said, and Charlie nodded.

[Y/n] listened intently about Charlie's plan, even though she was going to hear it again in court. She nodded in response smiling, "Sounds intriguing." the angel said, looking at the girl. "I do agree that everyone deserves a second chance." She said, a smile growing across Charlie's face.

"If those sinners that come to the hotel are willing." She added, placing her hands on her desk and sighed. "But, it isn't me who you are going to have too convince." She added, and Charlie looked at her, "But, I believe in the cause." She said, smiling looking at the princess of hell.

[Y/n] looked at Charlie and saw so much of her father in her, her heart couldn't help but ache. "You remind me of your father." Charlie looked at her and smiled, "Thank you, if it wasn't for him I wouldn't be here right now." said Charlie, “The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree.” said [Y/n] a hint of sadness in her voice.

Charlie smiled softly, "You really do love my dad don't you?" asked Charlie, and the angel looked away closing her eyes for a moment. Taking a deep breath and with a solemn look on her face, she turned back towards Charlie. "More than anything." said [Y/n] sadly, the room filled with silence. She still loves him even after eons have since passed they've last seen each other, "Sorry, I shouldn't even be saying this to you." She said shaking her head.

She scoffed at herself, "Telling you his daughter that I've got some silly crush on him," She shook her head and placed her head on her desk, "Ugh, I'm so pathetic!" She groaned, into her desk. For eons, after Lucifer was banished to Hell. [Y/n] hasn't been the same since forcing a fake smile on her face, while doing her daily angelic duties. With a fake smile plastered on her face.

One the inside she was hurting. She was lonely. She was depressed. Filled with so much regret being the cause of her own lonely existence. If she wasn't such a coward maybe things would've ended up differently maybe they wouldn't?

Charlie placed a hand on shoulder causing [Y/n], to lift her head and look up at her. "I'm sure he misses you just as you miss him." said Charlie smiling, trying to comfort the angel as much as she could.

"He used to tell me so many amazing and wonderful things about you," She said. [Y/n]'s lower lip started to quiver as tears welled up in her eyes, hiding her head into desk. She glanced over at the clock on the wall; lifting her head up from the desk. She wiped away her tears, "I-It's almost time for the court meeting. You should probably get ready." said [Y/n], as she stood up from her chair.

"Maybe, you can visit once this is all over?" Charlie said, and the angel looked at her and smiled, "I'm sure that would make both his and yours day." The angel really could see so much of the man she loved in his daughter, "That sounds like a dream to me." said [Y/n], as she walked towards the door and placing her hand on the door knob.

She missed him dearly and for many years she stayed in heaven, wallowing in self-pity and regret. Loneliness and heartbreak. Grieving over the lover she was to cowards to confess her feelings towards.

"But, I don't know. Right now you should focus on convincing the angels." She said looking at the young demon, as her gaze drifted towards the ground. "I-I shouldn't of even mentioned what I said today." She said a solemn look on her face.

"You have nothing to apologize for." She said, looking at Charlie and smiling, "I have only myself to blame." She smiled sadly, and Charlie and the princess of hell a gave her a sympathetic smile. As Charlie left the room, "Charlie?" The Princess stopped and turned around, "When you see him again." She said, "L-Let him know." She stammered, nervously biting her lip her wings limp at her side.

"L-Let him know that I miss him more than anything," She said sadly, and Charlie smiled and nodded. [Y/n] watched as she walked away, and closed the door behind her and turned away. Leaning her back against the door, she sank to the ground and brought her knees to her chest and cried. "I really am pathetic," She sniffled, once again wallowing in self-pity.

"E-Even, if I were to go and visit would he even wanna see me?" She mumbled, maybe she should. She didn't expect anything from it but, maybe it would fill the hole in her immortal heart. The thought of seeing him again brought a smile to her face, she really did love him with every fiber of her being. She envied Lilith and was jealous of her not in a hateful or spiteful way.

She just..[Y/n] sighed, wiping away her tears. Standing to her feet and dusting herself off, taking a deep breath in and exhaling. As she placed her hand on the doorknob, sighed, leaving her office and making her way towards the courthouse.

If only she knew how much he truly did miss her, as on his desk. Sat a rubber duck that shared the same angelic features as her, wings and all. If only she knew how is heart would ache, as he would glance at it.

if only she knew

how much she truly means to him

a/n: ngl..i kinda wanna maybe make her charlie's stepmom.. i mean she still loves lilth of course but.. i mean.. like.. come on.. i should..

[dunmeshistash]

I'm gonna ramble a bit as I reread but I think Dungeon Meshi might be the first time I've seen a "The enemy cannot be reasoned with" "they are too far gone" that was actually true.

Usually when that's said that the protagonists proves them wrong by actually giving a chance to the villain or by believing in their friends but... Thistle really cannot be reasoned with. Not because he's cruel or evil, but because he's literally too far gone.

The demon's corrosion of his mind has happened for too long, he has been living in pure paranoia for hundreds of years, here he's incapable of properly thinking, a few nice words cannot undo a thousand year of damage. The demon's influence on his has destroyed this poor kid's mind.

He isn't being evil here, he THINKS he's actually fixing things

This baby boy really cannot be reasoned with in a very realistic way I think

I really enjoy this part, I really enjoy that is a moment of "the protagonist trusted the villain and paid the price" but not in the usual "the villain betrayed their good faith" way. In the way that the villain actually didn't have the capacity to escape their spiral, even with a hand extended to them.

He didn't mean to betray Laios' trust, he isn't manipulating or lying to him. By all accounts this is the ideal situation Laios wanted where the bad guy actually listens to him. And yet <3

It's so tragic, I love it.

[jd-loves-fiction]

hii~ how are you, dear?

so.. how do you think leona or (and) malleus would react when they see someone flirting with mc and mc flirting back? (they are not a couple yet but already have feelings for each other. mc didn't flirt with the other people seriously, they were just playing)

🌑can you tell I have a favorite 💀🙃

❖ 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 ❖

Oooh you're playing a dangerous game

Chances are Leona's been dropping HEAVY hints that he wants you

If you're not a beastman, there's a chance you haven't noticed but if whoever dared to flirt with you is a beastman and they still decided to do it...

They're about to find out why the lion's the king of the savanna

Leona's not the hesitant kind of guy when it comes to romance, if he wants you he'll make it very clear

But the moment he senses that you might not be interested, he'll back off

That being said, I do believe the actual first step into a relationship would have to be made by you

Reason being that Leona is quite comfortable in his loneliness and in the Sunset Savanna women tend to be the ones making moves

If you're not a woman, my opinion still stands since he's lazy and fine with romance pass him by

So this situation is actually very likely to happen before you get into a relationship

But he will be glaring straight through this pest with his poisonous green gaze until they piss off

If that doesn't happen, then his jealousy might actually persuade to do something like striding up to you and throwing an arm over your shoulders

He won't say anything since he feels he shouldn't need to, just waits for them to give into his glowering and scowling

This might be what triggers a confession, whether from you or him! :D

(The one who'd been flirting with you, however, might never know peace again💀🫡)

❖ 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 ❖

This might be an even more perilous situation (not that you'd notice)

While Leona likely has some experience with romance and therefore isn't all that surprised by this situation

Malleus however (in my opinion) is entirely inexperienced when it comes to love and so unprepared for this

All he feels is ugly green envy crawling around inside his chest

Why are they so close to you? Why would they say those things to you? Why would reciprocate? Do you not care for him as he does you??🥺

Bby is spiraling 💀

Pray Lilia is around (tho he usually is) to help him understand the situation

He'll understand that he just hasn't been clear enough with his advances and so will take this as an opportunity to make them crystal clear

By confessing to you right in front of the other person :)

By the time he's done they should be gone (if they didn't dash off immediately upon seeing THE Malleus Draconia approaching them)

He might become a little more possessive than usual after this occurrence

Can you blame him? He's not used to the feelings you awaken in him :(

Plus, dragons are very protective of their treasure 👀

[riza-hawks-eye]

The Royai moments the anime adaptations left out bc they are COWARDS

(I believe in fma manga supremacy)

Riza's Grandpa asks Roy to marry her.

So this one needs outside material to explain, but Arakawa confirmed in the 2nd Guidebook (released only in Japanese and French) that Grumman is Riza's maternal grandfather. Not necessarily a big Royai moment but, still it's interesting how Riza's only known living family ships it, and that Roy doesn't exactly say "no" to his request.

I am forever fascinated as to why any of this exists in the first place, what did you mean by this Arakawa? why have Grumman make this suggestion in the first place? 👀👀👀👀👀👀 What were you suggesting? 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Anyway, I wish we had an in-text confirmation of Riza's relation to Grumman and I wish this moment had come back to the story at some point. Even if it was just Riza glaring at Grumman being like "Grandpa why are you trying to marry me off?????"

2. Roy's "Get your hands off my wife!" moment.

He really said, "is he bothering you queen?" I wish we had more protective Roy and frankly, I don't understand how this scene didn't make it to Brotherhood? Riza was getting manhandled by a tin can and clearly not into it. The fact that a tin can serial killer developed a crush on her is concerning to begin with. It just wouldn't be in character for Roy to be cool with this. Roy is also a jealous boyfriend, what can I say?

3. The "I'm glad you're alive" moment.

For some dumb reason, Brotherhood changed this so when Riza apologises for worrying him, he just snaps "save it for the end of the mission!" Like, why Brotherhood? why would Roy ever snap at Riza like that? especially when Riza is generally the one who is laser-focused on the mission. Roy has enough faith in her, he's not going to see this brief apology as her being distracted or less competent. The manga dialogue is also meant to show how Maes's death is still a fresh wound for Roy, so of course he's on edge at the prospect of losing Riza too.

4. He literally asks her out

I feel like both anime adaptations really wanted Roy to be more of a womaniser than he actually is. But this scene lowkey confirms Roy has limited game and he only really wants Riza. It feels like dude jumped at the opportunity to ask Riza out the moment she technically stopped being his subordinate.

5. Roy's codename for Riza actually coming back

Seriously, I love how Arakawa took the time to establish "Elizabeth" as Riza's codename only to use it later to have Madame Christmas suggest that Roy regularly spends time with "Elizabeth" to the point where it's weird that he isn't with her now. And then, when Roy bemoans how "another man took Elizabeth" (an obvious reference to Riza being taken hostage by Bradley) one of Christmas's girls gets excited at the idea she might have a chance with Roy. The suggestion is that Roy isn't normally available on account of his seeing Elizabeth.

It's a strong hint to the idea that Riza and Roy might have *something* going on and are bypassing the fraternization laws through codes. At the very least it suggests that Roy isn't interested in anyone but "Elizabeth". Also look how bummed out he is that his wife is gone. Why did the anime rob us of so much pathetic whipped Roy? WHY?

6. Just a lot more touching in general

There's actually a lot of touching between these two in the manga. It's mostly during the big fights like the Promised Day or the battle with Lust and it really cements them as a true battle couple.

In the case of the Promised day they are literally fighting in each other's arms. Riza is leaning on Roy as she's on the verge of passing out from her wounds, and Roy is clinging onto her now that she has become his eyes. The way they hold each other shows how they are each other's crutch and how one always empowers the other. It also symbolises how inseparable these two are as moments ago Roy was at the Gate and before that Riza was on the brink of death, they could have lost in each other for good but they're still standing strong together in spite of everything.

The post-Lust fight is just a nice moment were Roy clings onto Riza out of sheer relief that she's okay and he hasn't lost another loved one. Even though he's on the verge of passing out from pain and blood loss, he still finds the strength to reach out to her.

Then there's the scene in the tunnels where he lowers her gun for her. The noticeable difference in the manga is that he does this after he takes off his ignition gloves.

The anime forgets to do this. It seems like a minor difference but it's kind of a big point of characterisation. Because we know that Riza has been hurt by flame alchemy, from the process of having the tattoo done to her by a trusted parental figure at a young age, to the trauma of seeing how much damage it did at ishval, to her very literally being burned by the flames so that it won't do anymore damage. Roy is the one who burned her, he's the one who used her secret to do unspeakable damage and suffering, why would he hurt her again by letting her go anywhere near flame alchemy?

My final thoughts: Manga Roy is altogether more dorky and in love with Riza than his anime counterparts and I miss his adorkable self.

I also feel like Arakawa was so good at subtly hinting at how in love these two are and how they basically *do* function like a couple even if they might not be together in the conventional het married with babies way.