#the thing is that he mentioned he had some feedback from the last project and I’m pretty sure its going to be that I tried to make their

[villainanders]

I have a meeting with my old job that I do freelance work for sometimes today and I have a feeling this is going to be the straw that breaks the camels back in terms of me finally snapping and telling them everything I think they’re doing badly and that they shouldn’t hire me if they don’t respect me

[boyfhee]

ㅤ ꣑୧ㅤㅤ:ㅤCANDLELITㅤㅤ𝒻t.ㅤㅤ성혼

﹙10097﹚ SYNOPSIS . . . the dating scene sucks, especially when the only person you want to be with is your roommate.

꣑୧ GENRE . . . roommate au, 'i hate them but they're hot' kind of energy

꣑୧ WARNINGS . . . profanities, drinking i mean lots of drinking we need alcohol shortage here, sunghoon smokes, mentions of one night stands, one very suggestive make out scene in the fourth section, undertones of cheating but not from sunghoon or reader, implications of sex although it's very light

꣑୧ NOTES . . . hi ( _ _; ) drowning in nervousness as i'm posting this. it's my first long fic after months ... i think the last one was in may or june 23 ... so please be nice >< don't know why but this didn't turn out how i wanted it to and it's definitely not one of my proudest works, but i hope u guys like it nonetheless huhu TT happy reading and please rb and drop feedback, it's highly appreciated ^_^

001. WHERE THERE’S HEAVEN THERE’S HELL

sunghoon is spiralling again. 

a part of it is because of the endless assignments from classes, but that’s no news. he knows it’s his fault for procrastinating and waiting till two days before the due date to even think about working on them— unlike jake who somehow attends classes probably four times a week and is seen in the football fields instead, and still manages to be the first one to submit his essays. it’s admirable, annoying at most. when he sat down to do his sports science project three days before it was due, sunghoon realised why his professor gave them two months to finish it. 

but realising your mistakes and working on them to be a better version of yourself are two different things.

for one, sunghoon believes those assignments are useless. no one cares about the impact of sports on society, maybe except heeseung and jake but again, in sunghoon’s mind, those two are never important. second, he’s too perfect to be working on himself. sunghoon is the best version of himself. he was born the day his uncle died, and his dad inherited the entire chain of restaurants his family owns across the country. he’s too amazing to be worrying about getting a degree he can buy— he thinks the university should be honoured he’s choosing to study— but that’s simply because his mother doesn’t want him to turn out like his sister. 

back to the matter at hand— as he puts the beer can on the table and sits back on the couch, his eyes travel to the door yet again. seventh time in just a minute, he’s keeping a record of how you make him wait. 

if there’s one thing he hates is being irresponsible ( coming from the great king of irresponsibility himself. ) you said you’d be back by twelve, and it’s half past one in night and not a soul knows your whereabouts. thirteen texts, seven missed calls, his phone is at forty-one percent and sunghoon is at his limit. if it wasn’t for your mom he wouldn’t give two flying fucks about where you are and how you’ve been.

sunghoon is actually surprisingly obedient and well-mannered, as opposed to the popular belief. he gave you and your mother the whole tour of the apartment the day you moved in. even made some coffee which isn’t much but your mother had loved him. he could see it in the way she looked at him with those sweet eyes, holding his hands as if he was her own son, and asking him to look after you. 

‘please take care of my daughter,’ sunghoon thought he was getting married. instead of a wedding bell there were warning sirens going off. to this day he doesn’t know why she asked him that, minutes after she saw a dead cactus in the balcony that he killed by overwatering. he couldn’t even say no to her and just nodded, looking over at you briefly and noticing how you look like you were a bit embarrassed. sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s so serious about ‘taking care’ of you. he thought it would be easy, but you had to be devil’s favourite spawn and sunghoon happens to be your target.

however, he can’t take this anymore. he has a morning class and waiting till two am while drinking beer has done more damage to sunghoon than it should. he gets up from the couch with a sigh, leaving the empty cans unattended for a night as he makes a mental note to clean tomorrow. it isn’t until a click from the door stops him in his tracks. 

“i’m back,” your voice is quiet, a yawn following immediately after your words as you look down while taking off your shoes. you’ve been drinking again, sunghoon can tell it from a mile away. 

“you’re late,” he speaks over the silence, hands on his torso as he’s giving you those squinted eyes and doubtful looks. if sunghoon didn’t know any better, he would assume you fucked someone at the club with how messy you look at the moment.

“yeah well, we had to take gigi to the hospital,” your lazy voice isn’t much louder than a whisper. you stumble towards your room, a hiccup followed soon after by the same quiet and slurred tone. “she ate something weird,”

he huffs at your words, knowing it would very well be just another excuse. “you could’ve at least texted,”

“my phone died,”

“i’m sure your friends would be happy to lend you their phone,” he pauses when he feels himself getting a bit annoyed. a soft sigh falls off his lips as he looks down at the tiled floor before looking up and speaking in a much calmer voice. “i’m just saying it’s not exactly safe to be out alone on the streets this late at night,”

“i wasn’t alone,” that piques his interest. “jay drove me back,”

and sunghoon felt his whole world stop. “jay?”

“yeah, jay, park jongseong,” your voice is surprisingly sweet when you take his name and it bothers sunghoon for some reason. his face scrunches up when you bite back a smile, hoping it’s the alcohol not because of what he thinks it is. “he’s nicer than i thought,”

sunghoon is not unfamiliar with the name park jongseong.

he hears it every day on and off the campus, more often than he likes. first things first, he’s just as popular as jake, for being american, which brings sunghoon to the question— why in the world would he leave america to study in korea when jay could have attended one of the ivy leagues with his face and money?

and the second and more important question, why in the world is park jongseong dropping you home at two in the night?

sunghoon only watches you in disbelief and astonishment as you stumble to your room, mumbling something incoherently. your words ring in his ear like sirens. ‘he is better than you’ jay is better than sunghoon. he scoffs almost offensively in your direction. that has to be the biggest lie of the twenty-first century.

he follows you to your room, reaching out to grab your arms when you almost trip but you manage to balance yourself. he opens the door and turns on the lights for you. “why were you with him to begin with?”

“oh, you don’t know?” and you turn around with eyes wide open as he shakes his head like a deer in the headlight. “he asked me out,” 

sunghoon didn’t get a single ounce of sleep last night. 

it’s your fault, clearly. had you been back earlier on the time, nothing would’ve happened. and jay— sunghoon sights at the thought of him, eyes narrowing as he grits on his pen as if he’s going to break it into two. 

“dude, are you hungry?” jake pokes sunghoon by his shoulder, dragging the latter out of his trail of thoughts. 

“what?” sunghoon shoots a blank look, one that makes his friend sigh in concern. afterall, it’s not everyday he sees sunghoon chewing on a pen. “i’m not,”

“you’ve been out of it since the morning,”

and sunghoon has been out of it since jay’s name fell from your lips. 

he’s not your friend, definitely not the first guy you’ve called by his name after sunghoon. but something doesn’t sit right. even after tossing and turning in bed for the whole night, he can’t figure out what bothers him more— the fact you said jay is better than him, or the fact that he asked you out on a date.

it’s the first one, he convinces himself. who you date is none of his business, he can’t be arsed enough to care about your love life or relationship status. ( although, he does care a little because he’s nosy. ) what bothers him more is that jay is, to put it in simple words, a player. all that face and no empathy for emotions is a waste, and to think you don’t know this— or maybe you do and yet still chose to go out with him, is beyond sunghoon’s comprehension. 

“what do you think about jay?” he asks abruptly, catching jake’s attention, looking at him a little too intently for an answer. 

“he’s a nice guy,” a casual reply before he gets back to his assignment before jake looks back at sunghoon with newly found interest. “he turned in my spanish essay last week, oh and drove me back from the bar a few days ago after you ditched me. why?”

sunghoon simply shakes his head, getting back to his books even though his focus is nowhere near studies. at this point, he doesn’t know if it’s jay distracting him or you. even your words keep playing over and over again in the back of his head. jay and nice in the same sentence doesn’t seem fit. sure, he helps his friends and drops his girl back home, but that’s only three days before there’s a new girl in his arms. 

002. RUNNING OUT OF SANITY

sunghoon doesn’t hear the door click open when you come back from your classes, too busy in the balcony while humming a tune that you recognise immediately. you take off your shoes, noticing how he taps his foot along with the melody, and it’s quiet in the apartment, apart from the sound of traffic and wind rustling through the trees around.

“i don’t like people who smoke,” smoking is not on your list of likes, but you find yourself next to sunghoon whenever he’s with a cigarette. just like now, when you return from yet another one of your dates— or meet-ups as you prefer to call it right now— with jay. it wasn’t really planned. you bumped into him after classes and he was on his way back home, so you asked him for a coffee. 

he almost jumps at your sudden voice but manages to compose himself, scowing at the distaste in your expression before scoffing, the cigarette still dancing between his lips. “good think, i’m not looking forward to be liked by you,”

he studies the frown on your face, glares as if your eyes are shooting daggers in his direction. it’s amusing to him how easy it is to get on your nerves. he leans against the metal railings, hair falling over his forehead. his eyes stay on your for a few seconds before he holds the cigarette between his index and middle finger, putting it away from his mouth and blowing out the smoke in your directions. he laughs mockingly when you step back, fanning out the smoke with your hands, cursing under your breath.

“are you crazy?!” you exclaim in annoyance, coughing slightly at his poor attempt at entertainment. your frown deepens when he mumbles a quiet apology although not meaning it, from the looks of it, and lifts the cigarette back to his lips. 

“you’re back early,” he states casually, tapping the cigarette butt and watching the ash fall down from the balcony before a taunting chortle falls off his lips. “did jay dump your ass or something?”

your nose scrunches up at his actions, although mostly at the tobacco you can still smell in your air. you look down at the road, watching a mercedes passing by. “no, he had to go somewhere so he left early,”

“i knew it! he’s good for nothing,” and he drops the cigarette to the floor, crushing it with his foot even though at the back of his mind, he knows you’re going to yell at him for cleaning that up. “what kind of guy can’t even spend time with his girlfriend?”

“we’re not dating,”

“that’s worse!” he emphasises, and a pause follows as he looks at you with a confused expression. “wait— didn’t you say he asked you out?”

“he did, but he said he wants to wait until exams are over,” there’s a hint of displeasure in your voice. his eyes travel down to your fingers, especially the ring you’re fiddling with before they’re back on your face when you speak again. “we just decided to hang out,”

he practically scoffs at your words, quite literally in disbelief. a knowing sigh comes out of his mouth as he stands straight, this time standing with his back against the railing, feeling the cold metal though his thin white t-shirt. a part of him wants to laugh at your stupidity and point at how naive you are, while another part of him wants to find jay and beat him to pulp. he doesn’t know why there’s anger pooling in his stomach at the mere thought of jay just messing around with you. 

“what a sick bastard,” he huffs with a tincture of annoyance in his tone. “how much do you want to bet he’s playing with you?”

“you’re the one who’s sick,” and even though it clicks with him that you’re referring to a few minutes earlier when he smoked all in your face, sunghoon still frowns when you call him sick. “he’s just prioritising his studies, there’s nothing wrong with that. at least he doesn’t smoke while being all up my face,”

you two just bask in silence after that.

he doesn’t have much to say— actually he does, but he doesn’t know how to put it in a decent, coherent way. of course, your reaction won’t be the most pleasant if he told you he wants to punch jay’s good for nothing handsome face. he wonders what you’re thinking when he looks over at you. you seem happy whenever you talk about your supposed ‘future boyfriend,’ yet it’s evident that you’re upset. he likes to think you’re having your doubts too. it's reassuring to him for some reason— because that’s good for you, of course. if you’re upset, you have your doubts, and if you have your doubts you might not fall victim to whatever sick game jay is playing. 

“oh, actually, he doesn’t smoke,” but then you speak in a matter-of-fact way, as if comparing him to jay before giving him a mocking smile. “he’s better than you,”

those words ring in his mind for a good while. 

you go back inside and he hears you shut the door to your room as an annoyed sigh falls off his lips. hearing that jay is nice from jake was another thing, but hearing to say he’s better than him leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. and he doesn’t know why he’s feeling this way, these little changes in how he usually is, it’s new. it’s frustrating him out. 

it isn’t until his phone vibrates that he’s dragged out of his ocean of thoughts. his brows furrow when he notices the time, having realised that he basically wasted the entire noon even though he didn’t attend classes after giving heeseung an excuse that he’s sick. his eyes squint at the sender, and then a groan escaping his lips when he opens to read it. 

noh chaeun  4:15pm hoon! my last two classes have been cancelled are you up for some coffee?

sunghoon doesn’t reply, rather leaving his classmate’s messages on seen, too bothered by his inner turmoil to spend time with her. it’s not like him to be this way, to be so bothered over something that doesn’t concern him. you’re definitely not someone so significant and jay is definitely not the first guy you’re with. in fact, he has seen you kiss that guy from one of your classes— as much as he hates to recall that incident now— and had sneaked up to tell your mother about it over the phone when she had called you.

you’ve never had a serious relationship, not after meeting him. in his head, you always came back to him and he’d be lying if he hadn’t joked about it with his friends during the initial few weeks after you had moved in. when he had mentioned to jake that you’re pretty and his friend had teased him a few days later, saying his ‘crush’ was with this other guy, sunghoon, did in fact, say he doesn’t care because you always come back to him; or rather his apartment, actually, but whatever fits the joke. 

that day, he had a good laugh out of it and the joke died back then itself, more so after he started complaining about you to his friends. your habits, your actions, the things you say that tick him off, your quirky and quick remarks— everything. perhaps, even about your habit of arriving late on weekends from parties and ruining his sleep because you forget the key most of the time, so he has to wake up and open the door for you, but not guys, never guys. 

it hurts his head to even try and figure it out, to find the reasoning behind the pang in his chest every time you mention jay. he likes to think it’s just harmless competition although for no reason, even though both of them have done plenty of things to piss each other off just for the fun of it. sunghoon thinks he can live with it and walks back inside to the living room, until he sees you walking out of your room on phone with someone, the name of he who shall be mentioned rolling off your tongue again, and he finally pulls out his phone with a frustrated sigh. 

sunghoon  4:21pm sure, i’ll pick you up in ten

“actually, my mom wants to invite your family over for dinner this weekend,” the girl in front of him speaks with a smile after muttering a quiet thank you to the waiter after he gets their order. “she’s very grateful  for the donation your dad made for our art gallery and wants to thank properly,”

“talk to my parents, then,” it’s a simple reply, too bland and forced for her liking.

sunghoon hasn’t spared her a single look in the past ten minutes that they’ve been sitting together at the table. firstly, he doesn’t know why he drove to a restaurant when she asked for a coffee. it’s not even close to dinner time, and the awkward yet sweet smile on her face didn’t make it better for him, so he ordered starters and drinks to drag their little impromptu dinner out. 

“sunghoon, to be honest,” chaeun tries to strike up a conversation again, despite the constant lack of effort from his side. “i want you—”

“hey, isn’t that jongseong?” and he cuts her off immediately, finger pointing outside the glass panes beside them as he stares in the direction behind her with brows knit together in shock. “who’s that with her?”

“jongseong?” she repeats the name before turning her head, forming an ‘o’ when she spots a familiar figure through the multitude on the streets. “ah, that’s myung jihye. she has been pursuing him for a while. i guess he finally agreed,”

“they’re dating?!” his voice is full of surprise and disbelief unlike hers, so seemed to be happy for the girl instead. he stares outside with a heavy silence as the couple disappears between the crowd before looking at the girl in front of him.

“oh, i wouldn’t say that…i don’t know but it’s possible they are.” it doesn’t miss her attention how sunghoon’s fingers tighten around the fork. “everybody in our major knows jihye has crush on him and they’re probably a thing by now,”

and he wishes you were here with him right now so that he could show you the true colours of the dear guy you’ve been going out with, the one who’s supposedly ‘better’ than him. he wants you to realise that his words weren’t false and he isn’t sick, after all, and if you’d cry, he would be down to tell you it’s not the end of the world. that there are a hundred other guys better than jay, ones who won’t even breathe in front of another woman, who’d treat you better— hell, i can treat you better if you ever give me a chance— and then a pause in his train of thoughts.

he looks at chaeun, who’s looking back at him with a perplexed look and her own set of questions. his mind replays those words yet again, and he screams internally.

what the heck?!

surprisingly enough, sunghoon has been thinking about jay for the whole evening now, obviously not in a good way. his eyes keep travelling to the knife stand on the kitchen island occasionally and every single time, he has to convince himself that murder is not the right answer to anything. 

for some reason, he can’t stop imagining your smiles while on date with jay. not that he has ever seen those— wish i could— as he slaps himself out of his state of mind yet again. not only that man is playing with you but on jihye who’s apparently his girlfriend? he lets out the ugliest scoff known to mankind, because in sunghoon’s head, jay is a sick joke made by biology.

he waits for you to return from your shopping spree for about an hour, having beer as a company. he tries to stay awake although his eyes get droopy, and then every ounce of sleep leaves his body when he hears the door unlock. 

“yn,” he practically jumps out of the couch, it almost scares you. he accidentally bumps into the living room table on the way, knocking an empty can of beer to the floor but too busy to bother picking it up. “i have to tell—” his eyes go down to the eleven shopping bags in your hands, as he counts them. “— wait, what did you shop so much for?” 

“oh, i have to attend a family wedding next month,” his chest feels warm when he sees you smiling and looking so excited, and it’s making him go crazy on the inside because he doesn’t know what is happening to him. for some reason, he starts imagining you in a gown, like the one you wore for the fresher’s party, but then he forces his mind to get back to the point. “i’m thinking of asking jay to be my date,”

and his heart drops down to his stomach.

this has to be a fucking joke, and he tells himself. for a split second, he thinks he didn’t hear you properly. maybe you said jake because, well, jake did tweet a ‘date for rent’ form five months ago when he needed money to buy tickets for a post malone concert that cost more than his gentle monster glasses ( not that he got any money but at least they got a good laugh out of it. ) 

you remove your shoes and put the shopping bags on the couch before sitting down as well, letting out a heavy sigh. “you look like you saw a ghost,”

“a ghost would’ve been better,” he catches you looking at him when he mumbles under his breath, sort of grateful you didn’t hear him before sunghoon would rather not have another argument with you over how jay is not only a bad choice, he’s the worst choice. 

he looks over at you when you pull out your phone, fingers fluttering over the screen as you text someone with a giddy smile. he considers telling you what he had seen earlier, but god, he loved to see you smile like that. the way you press your lips together to suppress a grin, looking ever so happy as if you have won a lottery. he doesn’t think you’ve ever smiled like that at him, and it aggravates him even more when he realises that you probably smile like that every time you see jay. 

jay is getting everything he isn’t deserving of, and it pisses sunghoon off down to his bones. 

but again, he can’t bring himself to tell you the truth. you look too happy for your own good, it pains him physically to even imagine your reaction when you’ll come to know the truth. and then he pulls himself together, telling himself that it is your fault in the first place to trust someone like jay and ignore the warning signs he was giving you. 

in the end, he leaves without having any further conversations with you, going to bed two hours earlier than usual even though he knows he isn’t going to get any sleep. sunghoon is convinced he’s losing his mind, faster than a day ago actually. he lets out a frustrated groan and covers himself with his blanket, hoping to catch some sleep. 

it’s going to be yet another long day tomorrow.

003. A CHANGE OF STANCE

sunghoon thinks you’re hot.

what the fuck?

“i asked something,” you remind, pulling him out of his trail of thoughts and he flinches slightly, making your brows furrow in confusion. “how do i look?”

“huh— what? oh,” he takes in your appearance again. hair down, make up done— you’re wearing your favourite lip tint? and the best dress he has seen you in so far, looking so mind blowing it actually blows his mind and short circuits his brain. 

even your favourite lip tint … sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s looking at your lips in the first place but little does he know he’s fucked. 

absolutely. completely. fucked.

nonetheless, he manages to compose himself, clearing his throat and sitting up ever so elegantly on the couch, legs crossed, the magazine still in his hands. “you look…t-terrific,” 

you can’t help but get even more confused at his words, wondering if it was a bad idea to even ask him for his opinion, even though you play along. “like in a good way or a bad way?”

��in a terrific way,” he blurts out, eyes wide open as panic settles in slowly inside his stomach, and he’s stuttering, shocked, surprised, fucked, again. “you look terrific in a terrific way…so terrifically terrific in the most terrific way possible,” 

“are you high?” 

well, he would say he is! never in the two years that he has known you did sunghoon think he’d find himself floored, figuratively, and speechless, literally, at the sight of you. and he’s not saying you look bad on other days. you look good, in fact. good as in plain and presentable, but never in a good good way and definitely not in a hot way, of course. 

“anyway, i’m going out. receive my parcel for me if it arrives,” you move to put on your shoes, taking a few seconds to pick between the two you think would suit your outfit. for a moment, you consider asking him to help you choose— as you look at him up and down peripherally, and he looks terrified. and you shrug it off, grabbing one of your loafers.

“where are you going?” he asks after a good minute of silence, sounding calmer than earlier as he gets off the couch and walks up to you. his nose scrunches up in disapproval as your hands move to one of your jimmy choos for a brief second, before you decide to go back to your initial pick.

“date,” he takes a moment to register your words, despite this happening many times.

a date. he scoffs softly, looking away, arms crossed. 

a date, again. sunghoon doesn’t give a fuck. 

“with jay,” you continue, this time with a sweet smile on your face that makes his heart flutter for some reason. maybe, he does give a fuck. 

now, sunghoon should feel bad for his fellow friend of a friend because he’s on a date with you, but instead he wants to snap his neck in two. the name is starting to give him an ick— jay this, jay that. you’re hanging out with jay, having coffee with jay, going on a date with jay, shopping with jay, next would be going to bed with jay— he pauses immediately, shaking his head. he doesn’t really like the sound of that.

“whatever,” he tells himself when you walk out of that door, looking all pretty and excited. he doesn’t know why he’s getting so worked up over a date, that too with someone who— according to sunghoon and chaeun— is dating someone else. he would pay to see you back home all miserable and he would point fingers at you and laugh, saying he told you already while you had your conscience and rationality clogged up with the possibility of getting dicked down. 

but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re on a date with jay fucking park. and you’re looking hot. 

he sighs, slouching back on the couch, looking outside at the bright blue skies and then sighs again. he needs to be lobotomized.

it’s three in the noon and sunghoon is drowning himself in misery and pity. and soju.

a glass after another and then another, along with two empty bottles already on the table. even the owners are giving him a weird look and heeseung can only let him ruin his reputation so much.

“there, there,” the senior takes the half empty bottle of soju from his hand and puts it aside, sighing pitifully at sunghoon. “that’s enough for today. you need to stop drinking,”

“heeseung,” sunghoon looks up at the guy in front of him, looking horribly pitiful, eyes a bit unfocused from the alcohol settling in his system. “do you know yn?”

and heeseung pauses for a few moments, not knowing what prompted him to ask this question. more so when you and heeseung went to the same highschool and even were in the music club. he nods slightly in doubt, raising his glass to his lips. “of course,”

“do you think he’s pretty?”

“of course,”

“do you think she’s hot?”

“of course,” it takes heeseung quite a few seconds to respond and sunghoon sort of wants to punch him in the face for agreeing because he feels a certain way when others find you hot— but he would claim it’s soju giving him heartburns. “why are you even asking this suddenly?”

“she went on a date with jay,” he responds in the most miserable and sullen voice known to mankind. his shoulders practically slouching at the mention of he-who-shall-not-be-mentioned, finger tracing the rim of the glass in front of him with incoherent whines falling off his lips.

“so what?” jake interjects, beckoning the owner for yet another bottle for soju. it was necessary, as heeseung had warned earlier while arriving at the restaurant, considering sunghoon’s impromptu text about wanting to meet up. 

“jake, did you hear what i said? she’s on a date with jay. park. jong. seong,” the youngest spells out every syllable, sitting up straight as he gets defensive. “she thinks he’s madly in love with her or something but she’s wrong! the day i went out with chaeun, i saw him with jihye and guess what? chaeun said everyone knows they’re a thing but apparently, yn doesn’t know this. i’ve told her so many times that he is not worth it but she won’t understand she’s fucking dumb oh my god,”

and…silence.

absolute fucking maddening silence that made sunghoon go even more insane before jake finally decides to speak, albeit in disbelief. 

“that monologue was unnecessary,” the foreigner pours in another glass for the three of them, filling them up completely, knowing this is going in a new direction yet a one that has been anticipated by both him and heeseung. “besides, since when do you care about her?”

“she’s my roommate,”

“you like her,” heeseung exclaims, and silence follows again for a few seconds before sunghoon gasps scandalously, slamming his glass down on the table which turns a few heads in their direction as jake mutters an embarrassed apology for it.

“i don’t,” sunghoon speaks in a voice much calmer than his previous tone, even leaning in towards the table to put emphasis on his words. jake pours himself another glass, scoff at his words while shaking his head mockingly which only pisses him off more.

“i knew this would happen,” heeseung continues, stating it as a matter of fact while nudging jake to pour him a glass as well. “saw this coming from a mile away when you cried over her going on a blind date the last time you got drunk,”

he can’t point out when that must’ve happened, but he doesn’t refute his words, simply letting his eyes travel across the room for a few moments. the frown on his lips deepens when he meets jake’s knowing gaze as he gets defensive once again. “i’m telling you, i don’t like her,”

“you said that about hello kitty but she’s everywhere in your room now,” he turns his phone with the screen up when he feels jake’s eyes on it, or particularly on the hello kitty sticker on his phone cover as the boy nudges him for another glass. “go on, you’ll need it.”

and sunghoon does, drinking more than he usually does thanks to jake filling his glass again and again for the sake of his sob story. the cab drops him in front of his apartment and he stumbles his way to the elevator. the silence sobers him out for some reason as he leans against the walls of the elevator and thinks about you.

perhaps you’re still with jay, sharing smiles and stories, kisses if you’re brave enough. he likes to think you are not, that you would chicken out— it makes him feel better about himself. he imagines you holding hands with him and then shrugs that thought off his mind just as quickly, huffing at the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth as he walks out of the elevator once it reaches his floor.

sunghoon planned to take a shower and sleep, but every thought water downs to nothing when he spots you crouching next to the door with knees pressed up to your chest. he can’t see your face, but he knows you’re sad, and it makes him stop in front of you, his heart accelerating when you look up at him with glistening eyes.

you look miserable.

and sunghoon has no reaction. he’s frozen, hands on his side as he stares at you. he was supposed to laugh at you for your stupidity. but you look so utterly sad and heart broken, god, he wants to punch jay in his throat. yet again, every single thought leaves his mind when his eyes fall back on your face, his hands instinctively opening out to you as he speaks in a voice as soft as a feather.

“let’s go inside,”

004. CANDLELIT 

“he said it was a bet,” you speak over the silence, fiddling with your fingers. you look up at sunghoon— who’s sitting with legs crossed in front of you while you’re curled up in one corner of the couch. “and that he never meant to drag it out for so long but he didn’t know how to tell me,”

“a bet?” he scoffs bitterly, looking away for a fraction of a second before his eyes are back on you. “what an asshole,” 

it’s not the first time sunghoon has said that. in fact, asshole is all and the only word he uses to define jay. you still think it was a stretch, for jay isn’t that bad. sure, he lied to you and played with your feelings— which you will never accept that you had feelings for him because you don’t want to look pathetic— but he wasn’t rude. well, at least he paid for all the three dates you two went on with the locations being some high end restaurants or bakeries. 

on the other hand, sunghoon stares at you in silence. his eyes trace over your sullen face, and then to your fingers. for a second, he considers holding your hands…roommates can do that at least, right? to comfort one another, but then he catches you looking up at him and he averts his gaze to a distant corner. “don’t start crying now!”

“i’m not! i didn’t even like him that much…” and he can’t help but suppress his smile at the pout on your face as you refuse to look at him. it’s adorable, he never thought he would ever say that, but it’s true. your mannerisms are cute, you’re cute, and it’s eating his brain cells.

“is that so? you talked about him like you two were in love or something,”

“stop it!”

he stares at you quietly for a few seconds again. even though you’re being defensive out of embarrassment right now, trying to prove to him that you’re not heartbroken, sunghoon knows you’ll be crying the moment you’re behind the closed doors of your room. on other days, he wouldn’t care so much. not more than giving a few pats on a back and telling you to suck it up despite the concern in his voice. today, however, he feels differently.

you got played. it’s your heart that’s broken. you feel like a fool, and yet sunghoon is sitting in front of you, trying to find words amidst awkwardness and hesitation. his heart feels heavy for you. it’s unfathomable on his part.

he suddenly remembers the day you mentioned that jay is better than him. he almost scoffs at that, again. well, you might harbour feelings for the american guy but at least sunghoon never had you holding back your tears. and he swears it would never come to that, if you ever have feelings for him because sunghoon would be a better boyfriend— and then he comes back to his senses as soon as those words register inside his brain, cheeks heating up at the sudden thought before he clears his throat. 

“do you want ramen?” he manages to change the topic ever so swiftly, getting up from the couch and already walking to the kitchen without waiting for your response. apparently, getting away from you would ease his heartbeat, although hearing your voice has just as much effect on him as your presence or a mere thought of you.

“are you cooking?”

he lets out a breathy laugh at your words, getting two packs of ramen from the shelf. “of course, do you think i’d ask you to cook when you look like you went through a divorce and lost the custodies of all your three kids?” 

you frown at his words, although ending up laughing at them just a second later. it’s hard to not laugh at how silly he is sometimes, if you ignore his annoying tendencies. sunghoon puts the water to boil, fighting back a smile at the sound of your laughter. it’s better than seeing you all sad over a guy who doesn’t deserve you.

you get off the couch as well, making your way to the kitchen, wanting to help him since he listened to your sob story. it’s quiet, and you hear slight rumbling outside as you take a quick look at the weather outside through the windows and then within a few seconds, thunder pierces through the silence hanging in the room. 

sunghoon flinches visibly, freezing in his stance before the sound of heavy rain fills the kitchen. he turns on the electric stove and it blows out. all the lights in the apartment go out, darkness settling in and disturbed just as quickly as the room fills with bright flashes of light, illuminating your face for a short second before it’s dark again.

“wait, i’ll get my phone— oh,” you reach out for the back pocket of your trousers, quickly get your phone and turn it on for the flash light before it powers off. “out of battery,”

he takes a blind step into the darkness when it thunders again and he notices you standing with your arms around yourself when the light surges in the room for a moment again. he hopes you won’t push him away if he puts his arm around you, but then you two bump into each other. a quiet apology finds its way out of your lips, and he can tell you’re flustered. 

“where are the candles?” he asks to distract you from the fact that he’s holding your hand and pulling you aside gently, so you don’t crash into each other again. your hands feel oddly warm in this cold weather, and it only flutters his heart even more.

“second shelf from the right i think,” your voice is interrupted by thunder again and your hands instinctively tighten around his fingers. and then a loud thud follows, causing you to gasp slightly. “are you okay?”

“i can’t fucking see,” his voice is strained, oozing off pain as he lets go off your hands. you open your mouth to speak before he bumps into something again. something falls off the counter, perhaps the spoon by the sound of it and he apologises shortly after. it’s harder to navigate around his own apartment, more than he had imagined.

sunghoon manages to find the candles, setting them on the counter with pure intuition before lighting one of it up with the lighter he always carries around in his pocket. he turns around, almost bumping into you and before he could say anything, he sees you pressed up against one of the counters, face illuminated by the dim candle light. 

you’re close, too close, he’s afraid you can hear his heart going crazy at the proximity. his mind is telling him to step aside but he’s too lost looking in your eyes, ( as you are too ) with you looking so impossibly beautiful under the faint golden glow. 

“is this okay?” he whispers softly and you simply nod, not a word coming out of your mouth as you find yourself entranced by his face. sunghoon has always been aphrodite’s son, as his admirers would call him, and now that you’re seeing him so closely, you’re realising he’s something much more beautiful.

it doesn’t slip your attention how his gaze settles on your lips for a quick second, your body tensing up at the sudden movement. your breath hitches as he leans closer, dipping his head down. your heart is racing while he feels like his heart has stopped— it’s timeless, as he finds himself just a few centimetres away from your lips, not wanting to stop even though he gives you a chance to pull back, whispering softly, “can i?”

you nod. and sunghoon doesn’t waste another second, capturing your lips with his. 

it’s still at first, with your lips only pressed up together for a few seconds. it’s only a few seconds after he pulls back ever so slightly, and then tilts his head to the other side and goes in for another kiss, this time moving his lips slowly against yours. he feels you tense up for a brief while and then melting as you kiss him back, your fingers lacing around his tenderly. you flinch when it thunders again, breaking the kiss, but feeling shivers down your spine as you feel his breath on your lips. 

he takes a few seconds, fingers ghosting up your hands to rest on your waist, tugging you closer as he brushes his lips against yours. “focus on my lips,”

and he kisses you again, this time a bit more firmly, albeit it’s slow and gentle at first, his lips moving against yours in a way that's both comforting and exciting. but as the moments pass, he presses in deeper, more insistently. he lets his body press more firmly against yours, his chest touching yours as his tongue gently teases at the seam of your lips. it was working, the way his lips move against yours, it calms your nerves from the thunder but lights them up again when he nibbles gently on your lower lip, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist as he continues to kiss you so fervently. 

it takes a passing second for you to realise what you’re doing. it surprises you, however not enough to pull back, or maybe the way his tongue feels against yours stops you from doing so. you’d be lying if you say you hadn’t thought of kissing him before— as early as two days after moving in. and now that you’re actually kissing him, everything feels like a fever dream.

he tucks your chin up with his fingers, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. he is a good kisser, sunghoon uses that to boast about himself, he has always been good at this— kissing, bragging, making your knees weak, and all you could do was melt into him wet and sloppy kisses that he plants on your skin. 

he dips his head down to your neck, pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, pulling your blouse aside to get a better access to your collarbones and shoulders. it felt like his body has a mind of its own, and he’s only following right behind. when a soft gasp leaves your lips, he moves back to your lips again, wanting to swallow every little sound you make that makes his mind haywire. 

your breaths are heavy, hands around his neck with fingers grazing the skin of his nape. a movement that makes him moan softly in the kiss as he presses you against the counter, holding you between his arms. his hand that's resting on your hip moves up, tracing the curve of your waist and then sliding under your shirt to rest on your bare skin, lips curling up in a subtle smirk as he hears you gasp yet again. 

“sunghoon—” you pull back, getting a quick glance at his half-lidded eyes when the lightning from the thunderstorm fills the room. he can still feel your laboured breathing on his lips and it does nothing but pull him in even more. after all, sunghoon would be lying if he said he didn’t imagine doing this with you.

“we’ll stop,” he pecks your lips, then trailing his lips down your jawline and to your neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your skin. “when the candle goes out,” 

005. WHERE THE LINE FADES

when sunghoon wakes up the next morning, he’s met with cold empty sheets on the side and the memories from last night start flooding his mind. his heartbeat accelerates at the mere thought of you, especially how you were last night and every time his name fell off your lips in bliss and pleasure— he would’ve preferred waking up to you rather than emptiness. 

he lays idly for a few minutes and stares at the ceiling, looking for where it all had started. was it the day you told him jay asked you out? maybe not, he doesn’t like to think of himself as a jealous person. it must’ve been when you asked for his opinion on your outfit, he tells himself, you looked too good to be true that day. a few seconds more and he sits up with a soft groan, seemingly unable to find answers to any of his questions.

the weather seems to have improved as he notices the cosy sunlight outside. he slips on this shirt before walking down to the shared bathroom, rubbing his eyes softly and brushing his fingers through his hair with a sigh. he puts his hand on the door knob and looking up in surprise when it opens on the other side.

“oh,” the slight hint of shyness on your face doesn’t escape his gaze, just like how enchanting you look this early in the morning with hair wet from the shower. you bite slightly on your lower lip before the awkwardness in the air is disturbed by your voice. “morning,”

actually, it must’ve all started the day you moved in.

“morning,” he replies back, rubbing his nape and looking away. the weight of questions lingering around makes it hard for him to look in your eyes. “would you like to have breakfast?”

you nod and follow him into the kitchen after making a short trip to your room. 

you steal a few glances at him while eating your breakfast, feeling your palms sweat at the thought of bringing it up to him. you avoid it for a few minutes, tossing the question around in your head while trying to make small talks about the ketchup, as bad as it could get. it feels a bit suffocating until you finally decide to address the elephant in the room. “so about last night—” 

“it was a mistake,” he cuts you off immediately, a heavy pause following shortly after. he looks up in your eyes for the first time since the morning. “let’s just forget it,”

and his words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. it could’ve been just another one night stand for you had it not been with sunghoon— your roommate, the person you see everyday, the person who managed to give you butterflies the day you moved in. your fingers tighten around the spoon and you consider arguing back for a moment before you push that idea further back in your head.

it could be just another thing added to the lists of things that have been buried, like the time you and sunghoon almost kissed in the elevator last year.

“right,” you nod quietly, convincing yourself that it’s not a big deal. that he’s just another guy in your life like jay. actually, you don’t feel like wanting to compare them anymore. you don’t know where the line marking the difference fades. “of course, yeah,”

you don’t even like the sound of that.

“yeah,”

you don’t wait another minute before leaving your unfinished breakfast on the table and going to your room. his eyes follow your movements, conscience nudging him to chase after you. he contemplates it for a while, and then you walk out with your bag. “i’ll see you after classes,”

and then sunghoon doesn’t see you for the rest of the morning.

or the day, in fact. usually, you two end up bumping into each other at least once, but sunghoon doesn’t see you around for the whole day. he skips spanish, deciding to go back to his apartment earlier than usual. he turns on the tv, deciding to watch a football watch with beer on the side while waiting for you. an hour passes, then another, and another.

there’s no sign of you.

it isn’t until he rings up a few of your friends that he hears that you’re staying over at giselle’s for the night. he wouldn’t blame you, couldn’t, not after everything that went down a night ago. you needed some space and so did he, but somewhere inside he wondered if he should’ve been honest with you when you brought up that topic during breakfast instead of saying the first thing that came to his mind and dismissing it.

but, he dismisses it again, letting you be on your own for as long as you need, knowing you’d come back soon.

which you do, the very next day, much to his surprise. he had expected you to avoid him for at least a week. he notices the way you look when you return early in the morning, tired and exhausted as if you hadn’t got a single ounce of sleep. there’s silence engulfing him but you walk to your room before he could even open his mouth to speak. and then you ignore him for the rest of the day.

he starts feeling annoyed at some point, trying to come up with a reason for your actions. he tries striking up conversations with you and you give short responses, or just nod. when you walk away without answering him when he asked about your day, sunghoon wanted to grab your wrist and pull you back for a second, but he dismisses that idea just as soon as it pops up in his head. he doesn’t even realise how quickly time passes in silence, not until he returns from heeseung’s apartment after spending two nights and one day with him and jake and checks his phone, realising it’s already close to being a week till you’re gone radio silent. he notices a few texts, mostly his study group that have been planning meet-ups to study, one that he rarely attends. his eyes especially squint in confusion at the texts from your mother, saying she had been trying to get in touch with you but getting no response. 

he was on his way to his room when he heard the door unlock. a pause, the click of the doorknob strikes through the silence, followed by your footsteps. he takes a few seconds to sort out his thoughts before speaking. “your mom texted me since you weren’t picking up her phone,”

“my phone died,” you give a simple response, almost too quickly for his liking. he lets his eyes follow your movements as you take off your shoes and jacket, putting it on the couch. 

it takes him back to the day you told him about jay asking you out. 

it was exactly the same— you arrived late, your phone had died. he was asking the same questions, albeit laced with annoyance. today, it’s hesitation, maybe slight doubt. sunghoon can’t stop you from seeing jay, but the idea of you being with him bothers him more than expected. so, he follows up with yet another question. 

“where have you been?” he asks, wanting to maintain a casual demeanour even though his heart is pounding in his chest just from being near you. he isn’t expecting any response, actually, however he’s met with surprise when you actually reply. 

“with jay,” the words fall from your mouth as if you’re used to them, used to saying his name. there’s an awkward pause before you clarify. “we had dinner together. he wanted to apologise properly,”

“that’s— that’s great,” he manages to squeeze out, but sunghoon thinks jay could’ve left you alone instead of meeting you if he wanted to apologise so bad.

you definitely had feelings for jay, even though they didn’t go as deep for you to come home sobbing your eyes out the day you learnt the truth. to sunghoon, that is enough of a reason to hate him even more. just the mere thought of your heart sinking whenever you’d even think of jay made him fist his hands, nails almost digging in the palm of his hands. 

sunghoon doesn’t have much experience with girls. in fact, none at all. flings are one thing, and girlfriends another. he has had both— none too serious. the first time someone asked him out was in highschool, although he’s surprised it didn’t happen much earlier. that time, just agreed to go out with her because his friends were in relationships too and he didn’t want to fall behind. it wasn’t soon before it turned into a competition after he got into university. not his best self, it isn’t something he’s proud of now that he thinks about it. 

and sunghoon isn’t half better than jay in that aspect, although obviously not as bad as to bet on going on a date with another girl while he already has a girlfriend. however, if you had feelings for him— as he thinks while watching you walk to your room— he wouldn’t let a single tear fall from your lips. 

“about that night,” he follows you into your room, practically hearing his heartbeat echo through his ears. he gulps nervously when he notices you looking at him with a sliver of hope in your eyes. “it wasn’t a mistake,”

“oh,” and you stop in your tracks, having no idea how to respond. an awkward pause follows as you bite your lower lip habitually before speaking, feigning a casual tone. “well, we can still put it behind—”

“i don’t want to,” he blurts out, cutting you off mid sentence. you notice how his voice is quiet as always, yet there’s panic and anxiousness behind those eyes. “i mean, i tried to, but it’s difficult. you’re always on my mind,”

there’s a silver of determination behind his voice. it’s surprising and equally anticipated. sometimes, he feels like he thinks of you every minute no matter what he’s doing. it was never this bad, these days even the regular banters between you two give him butterflies. and sunghoon understand that he might be far from your type in men. perhaps, you actually prefer someone like jay, who treat you to a fancy dinner to apologise, or maybe that guy from a few months ago who can’t remember the name of. 

you and sunghoon can be polar opposites and he would still be standing here, fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of his denim jacket, looking so uncharacteristically out of place. he would choose to have this talk again, as much as he hates confronting, because it never about who your type is and always about the fact that you’re sunghoon’s type— as he realises this when you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, looking at him with lips pressed together. you look cute, more so when you’re awkward, and he can’t believe he’s coming to terms with this but god, he is falling for you. 

he is falling hard, and falling deep. it’s nothing like him, you make him nervous, almost as if knocking him out of air whenever your eyes meet, and he would gladly suffocate to death. it was quiet with too many questions hanging above his head, and he noticed the way you fiddle with your fingers with the cutest expression known to mankind and sunghoon knew he was screwed. 

“i’ve got it so bad for you, yn, really,” —he speaks as if he’s out of breath due to the nervousness— “really bad. i tried to keep you out of here,” he said, pointing at his chest, cheeks flushing red as the words fell off his lips. “but you won’t go, you just won’t.”

and sunghoon has never been so…out of place, for the lack of better words. it’s amusing, even to you, the way he is right now. the sunghoon from three weeks ago wouldn’t even care but he, now, is pouring out all of himself, as if stripping him naked of his emotions and letting him see what lies behind the suave smiles and prideful words. as if showing you how easily you have him going crazy, right out of his mind and how he can’t help but just stare blankly as his eyes travel down to your lips occasionally— as they do now— and it leaves you in a frenzy when you notice it. 

“i can’t stop thinking about that night— not in a weird way, just…” and you’re just standing in front of him, trying not to laugh at his antics. he’s cute, a pause, what the fuck. and then you just go along with it, knowing there’s no point denying it anymore now that you two are having this conversation.

you notice his little mannerisms, like how he can’t look in your eyes for the life in him, how he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. it’s adorable, especially the way he can have all the attention in the room with just his mere presence. that’s sunghoon for you, with a presence so heavy it’s loud even when he’s silent. it’s so loud you can practically hear his mind, of all the words you know he wants to say but can’t. there’s a hitch in his breath, his eyes meet yours for the first time in the past few minutes— i like you— they say, and the next thing sunghoon knows is that you’re kissing him. 

“i like you too,” you whisper against his lips after pulling back, your lips brushing against his. sunghoon feels like every single nerve in his body has been sparked, giving him goosebumps when you slowly intertwine your fingers with his.

of course, you know how he feels even before he could say it out loud. maybe, he just made it obvious for you to guess, otherwise sunghoon likes to think of himself as someone who can hide his feelings well. he lets go of your hands as soon as he feels you lace your fingers with his and instead, cups your cheeks ever so tenderly and leans down to capture your lips with his, smiling in the kiss. “i love you,”

˃ᗜ˂ : if you made it till here, i'm sending each one of u kisses >< thank u for reading, i hope u liked it. ps i had to put my heart aside and write jay's name ... never again will i put my man thru this huhu TT he's too good to do these things

[raayllum]

Transcript of Aaron Ehasz Interview (Sept 2024)

Podcast link here. Transcript down below with bulk under a read more.

R: Alright so welcome back to the Wordswithdragons podcast, and today I’m joined by a very special guest, the co-creator of The Dragon Prince, Aaron Ehasz. 

A: Hello, thank you for having me today. Glad to be here.

R: Thank you so much for being here. Um, yeah, so, as we semi touched on, it is the 6 year anniversary of The Dragon Prince this September 14th.

A: Yeah.

R: Do you have any thoughts, reflections, feelings about the show having gone on for this long and being such a big part of people’s lives?

A: I mean for starters, it’s really hard to believe it’s been on for six years. Like that seems insane to me. Cause it seemed like we had — Justin and I had been working on it for so long before it finally came out because we had worked on the story and then gotten feedback, and help in improving that pitch and bringing it out and we had it set up at Netflix, and we had to — we wrote the pilot obviously, and we didn’t know where we were gonna produce it, and found Bardel. So there was so much time between even just starting to think about it and when it came out.

R: Yeah, cause that was like 2015, right?

A: Yeah, I guess we started the journey in 2015 and we got with Bardel by the end of 2016, and it got released evidently in 2018, so... Yeah, yeah, cause I remember even we were writing kind of the end of season 3 when we had that panel with Marco and named the character after Marco.

R: Oh yeah.

A: The character [chuckles] from the first episode, we only had an opportunity for him to say his name out loud in that last episode because we were writing the ending while we were showing the episodes for first time, so. Anyway, that’s my reflection, it’s great it’s been six years.

R: Yeah. I know The Dragon Prince has been a really like — both life changing and I think, like, life affirming experience for a lot of people, myself included. So we just really appreciate everybody’s hard work on the show and are very excited for season 7 and hopefully beyond as well. As well for any future projects that Wonderstorm comes out with, like Bonders sounds amazing.

A: I feel — well first of all, thank you for saying that it’s life affirming, that’s such a nice thing to hear about something you’ve worked on, but I also agree that Justin and I feel a ton of gratitude for the whole team and the work and heart that everyone put into making this. I think people wanted it to be meaningful and special and that takes a certain kind of energy and vulnerability to build something like that, that you share, and our whole team really did give that in building the show.

R: Yeah. I think for sure. I think that’s like, um, I was even — I was rewatching some of the show earlier for — for a parallel, and it was the scene between Avizandum and Zubeia when she goes to him in like her kind of corruption dream semi-nightmare, and obviously that’s such a heartfelt, touching scene, and it’s always so strange. Because on the one hand, you should hate Avizandum, he killed Sarai and Rex Igneous has rightful criticism of him, but then you watch that scene of him and he really did love his family, so I think the show being able to draw out those strong, conflicting emotions for so many of the characters is one of the reasons why it connects with people to the degree that it does.

A: And that’s one of the themes you probably see in the show — just gonna make a quick —

R: Yeah, yeah for sure. 

A: Avizandum, which is that being a good dad can make up for awful lot of [R laughs] monstrosities, as long as you’re doing it in the name of being a good dad. I’m joking, uh. Of course, yeah, Avizandum was always meant to be a complicated figure like many of our characters. 

R: You mentioned that you guys have been working on — I think season three during this panel with Marco, or Marcos, and I remember, I think you’ve said before that the seasons get worked on concurrently, that there’s a decent amount of overlap.

A: Yeah.

R: I’ve always wondered, because we know — obviously, I’m a big Rayllum fan — but I’ve always wondered, cause I know they weren’t originally planned, and then you guys were boarding season two when you were like, “Hey, maybe this should be a thing,” and then probably like shifted and tweaked things or changed things to write more towards that in the future... Um, I’ve always wondered, if there was time, like at that time, to go back and change anything in season one for them, or the season one that we see was just like that?

A: I don’t recall there was time to change season 1 — that does happen because we are working on things in parallel because we are working on something in the script and then some time later we are working on the later stage of production, like an animatic, and we’ll be able to kind of give notes or even make changes with the knowledge of what’s coming, so that has happened. But in the case of Rayllum, I don’t think so. I mean, I think — again, I remember...

R: It was a while ago, yeah.

A: We were rekindling, or when we were realizing that something was being kindled between them, it was watching an animatic so that shouldn’t have informed our writing of season one, but our later stage stuff. But we weren’t trying to force anything so it got in there naturally and I don’t think we went back and changed anything.

R: Yeah, that’s what I’ve always — they had those kind of vibes to me from like episode two and three, obviously season two brought a lot more people on board, but I was always curious. Cause in season one, like, I think, it feels so natural, it feels so organic, and like I’ve shown — one of the things I love about Dragon Prince is it’s a great way to connect with friends and family and you kind of catch up with each other like through the show, of “oh have you seen the new season yet?” and that sort of stuff. And so when I’ve shown the show to like my brother-in-law, who is not plugged in at all, he also kind of picked up on it in season one, so I’ve always been curious. 

A: You know, what else, I’ll even say, I think we initially, intentionally planned they weren’t going to be a couple. We were like “Oh yeah, no, they’re—”

R: Friends, yeah.

A: Friends, with different views of the world and they journey together, and we don’t want them to be a couple. We’re not — we’re definitely not targeting it. I think we were intentionally not targeting it, and then it was “too bad creators! [R laughs] We’re going to fall in love despite everything you’re planning.”

R: Well, that very much I think even fits what they represent to each other, of like you don’t have to do this path that you think you have to do...

A: Yeah.

R: You can be something new. I always kind of felt like Ezran and Zym were — felt very kind of like designed as foils, as like a pair, of like through Zym, Ezran learns more so like how to grow up, and they’re both like the princes who will be king, and then Callum and Rayla also kind of felt sort of like developed as a pair, in terms of like — he needs to gain more confidence, she’s pretty confident on the surface.

A: Yeah.

R: She needs to learn how to open up, he’s really good at being open especially in the beginning.

A: Right. 

R: So I was always like...

A: He needs to be murdered, she needs to learn how to murder someone.

R: Yeah! They complete each other, yeah. Uh... Some other questions that I had [rapid typing]. So I guess, maybe, I have some questions that are more season specific, in respect to time, but I also had like more general questions. 

A: Okay.

R: So, one of the things I’ve always love in general and really love about The Dragon Prince is its like use of philosophy and like its deeply interested in ethical and moral questions, and presenting some answers for some of them, but like are those the right answers? We don’t know. 

A: Right.

R: So I know King Harrow’s choosing of Lady Justice’s blindfold is a pretty apt comparison to John Rawls’ Veil of Ignorance—

A: Yes.

R: Of, you know, you strip away everything that you could have, like advantages, disadvantages, and think, would the system work for me? Which has been useful when I’ve like, had to tutor students in philosophy actually, but I was curious, were there any like philosophical concepts or ideas that people really, or you really, wanted to work into the series? ‘Cause we have a lot of trolley problems.

A: Right. Um, probably. I mean like, I should say, I was a philosophy concentrator in college so I absorbed a lot. Things like  Rawls, I had a class with John Rawls, and thought that was a really interesting concept and I liked including it, and I thought we can include it in a fun way, the idea of justice. So other philosophy probably makes its way in, it can makes its way in accidentally or subconsciously, so nothing specific right now comes to mind. I will say, as with kind of Avatar before this, I don’t like to have — I’m not trying to have a right answer, ever. I’m trying to have the characters have a deeper understanding of what they’re struggling with, and y’know, move in a direction of deeper understanding, so if anything, it’s more interesting to me to see conflicts between maybe philosophical approaches that are different and see how — Oh well, this has these kinds of results, and positives and negatives, and this has... so that the audience can have a chance to say, “Oh well okay, I have some thoughts on that,” or “here’s what I feel,” and that’s why sometimes I think we see the fandom actually kind of go back and forth—

R: Yeah.

A: On — around characters and people’s choices, and things like dark magic or Viren, which are controversial, are things where like, I do not have a strong point of view on... the kind of binary right or wrong of... Viren in the long term. He’s made a lot of wrong choices and he’s made a lot of choices for good. 

R: Yeah.

A: He is an arrogant and power hungry person and he’s also a caring and loving father and someone who wants to have a positive impact on the world, right, like?

R: Yeah.

A: So those conflicts play out in him. But similarly, I think with maybe most of the philosophical ideas I can think of, I’d rather get to like a place where everyone just has a chance to entertain those thoughts and ideas and struggle with them, or hold them in an authentic way, and then can come to their own conclusions and feelings. I mean, I have some deep feelings about like, the world, and how can people be optimistic or not pessimistic or—y’know, what it means to hold onto hope or what it means to try to move past conflict, and I have beliefs that there are conflicts that get so you know, kind of sewn in, that they feel they are impossible to untangle, and especially if the game you’re playing is who started it, or who did the worst thing, where you can’t just ever untangle it. You can’t ever find a right or wrong, so how do you get past that? That’s one of the questions I was hoping Rayla, Callum, and Ezran would try to—

R: Figure it out.

A: Struggle with. Anyway, I’m giving a very long winded answer—

R: No, no.

A: That’s the philosophy that comes to mind. If something comes to mind for you, you can bring it up and I can go, “Oh yeah, that was probably influenced by so-and-so.” [R laughs] Or maybe not.

R: Well, one of the things I loved about season six was kind of — you see, even... One of the things I thought was really interesting was we see, not quite like that return to trolley problems, but we see Aaravos at the end of season 5 is telling Viren you have to make the sacrifice so that you can live, and then we see Rayla tell Callum, “Hey, if the choice ever happens, you also have to sacrifice me,” for — so Callum can live, but also for like the greater good and that sort of stuff. And then you have Kpp’Ar, who — I love Kpp’Ar, I think he’s terrible and interesting and I love him.

A: Awesome. He is — we’ll learn a little more about him in the future, but yes.

R: And obviously when Viren’s like, “A child will die,” and this is a kid that Kpp’Ar would’ve known, and we see in The Puzzle House that he loved these kids, and whatever is up with the Staff is bad enough that Kpp’Ar’s like, “Okay. I’ll make that sacrifice.” Which feels very much in a way like he’s given up on dark magic, and to a certain degree he’s both given up on the mindset of dark magic, and maybe also hasn’t given it up in the same way. Like I love that — Claudia, you know, obviously, puts Viren above all else, is she always right to do so? Maybe not, but we get why she’s doing it, that’s a hard thing to say. And then we have Callum, who also seems inclined to put Rayla above all else, and because we like Rayla more, we’re like “Yeah, he can do that, it’s okay for him to do dark magic for her, that’s fine,” even if there’s also like, consequences. Cause most characters in the show, like you said, everybody kind of wants the same thing, they wanna have a positive impact on the world, they want to protect their loved ones, but what constitutes that world, what they think is a positive impact, or who they want — how they protect those people, that’s all very malleable and can fluctuate. Viren says “Claudia, you’re on the wrong path,” and we’re like yeah, he’s right, and Karim says the same thing about Janai, like the exact same thing, and we’re like, well he’s wrong.

A: Yeah. I mean a lot of things come to mind when you’re talking through that, but one is there’s often a conflict between rigidity and rules and some kind of compassion, or emotional decision, and those decisions are hard, right? Like I dunno, maybe Kpp’Ar should’ve said, “Okay just this once, it’s Soren,” or not, I don’t know. I mean obviously Kpp’Ar had taken himself to some deep horrible place and he really had, actually. And was like, “Okay, dark magic is just corruption when you start and keep going down this path, but this Viren’s kid so I don’t know.” One of the things here, I think there’s a relationship between — you know, sacrifice plays a role here. Sacrifice and thinking about generations and generational conflict and thinking you know maybe in a way I think is interesting. I think about the beginning of season 6 when Claudia has done all of this and sacrificed another life but also sacrifices some of her soul or whatever to save her dad and he’s like “No no! This is not the way! A parent is supposed to do this for a child but never the other way around,” right? And there’s something to that I find interesting which is — it’s almost the inverse of children having the opportunity to start anew and break cycles, parents potentially have the opportunity to make sacrifices that don’t pass by burdens onto their kids, but sort of like that’s the mirror I see a little bit, in terms of how do you have generational change and evolution? It’s somewhere in younger generations being able to not get stuck on conflicts and burdens, but also the older generations recognizing that they may have to be the one to take the — and this is I think a natural... I dunno, it’s something I think about a little bit and came to mind when you were talking. So we’ll see more about what is the meaning of sacrifice and when — when do you... trade? Yeah.

R: Yeah.

A: Side note on sacrifice. You’re familiar with Game of Thrones? You’ve watched all of Game of Thrones?

R: I’m decently familiar, yeah.

A: Okay.

R: And if not, I can have Kuno explain it to me later, so.

A: One of the things I love about the sacrifice Ned made, that we didn’t realize he’d made until I think the very end of the series, we realize — a sacrifice to his kind of reputation, right? And I’m talking about him representing Jon Snow as his bastard to protect him, right? Think about that, that’s a sacrifice, he had to go through the anger — he didn’t tell his wife the truth, he didn’t tell anyone, because it was the only way to protect the child, and as a result he lived with — even though the truth is that he was a really honest, good, or evidently he didn’t go cheat on his wife, he sacrificed that part of his reputation to protect Jon, at least how I see it. I think things like that are kind of interesting. I dunno.

R: Yeah. Yeah, I think it speaks to that idea of — one of the things I love about Dragon Prince is it’s so much about choices.

A: Yeah.

R: Like one of the things I really really liked about season 6 was that, you know, Callum is like, “Okay, I’m going to get myself purified, healed of dark magic,” and Rayla was his light, which was very validating, cause I had noticed in season two there was like some framing so I was like well “Maybe, maybe” you know? And then slowburn buildup but it was — I think that was a great moment that really paid off. And he’s told “if you ever do this again, it’ll corrupt you completely.” And whether he will or won’t — I personally think that he will, but spoilers, you know — but whether he will or won’t, I think it’s really nice because now whatever choice he makes, he’s making with the full context, of what this would do to him.

A: Yeah.

R: Whereas in season two, yes he was making his choice to do dark magic then, and I don’t necessarily think he would make a fundamentally different one if he had known what it would lead to, but there’s a different kind of awareness. Like I always of it would’ve been so easy to have Harrow not know that Viren was going to kill Zym, cause that’s such an easy way to kind of let Harrow off the hook of well Viren went off and did this on his own, and Harrow had no idea, and blah blah blah, right? Cause we like Harrow, he’s a — again, he’s a good dad, we’ll forgive a lot. And instead, it’s not his idea but he’s fully aware, he signs off on it. And I think constantly pushing characters to make hard choices — kind of like what Ezran says, “these aren’t dreams, these are choices.”

A: Yeah.

R: You can choose love, you can choose to make... It’s something that makes all the characters feel so fully developed and interesting, so I always appreciate that you guys push them to make the hard choice. 

A: Yeah. Cool. Thank you.

R: One question I did have is, uh, Karim is one of my favourite characters.

A: Okay. Unusual person. A lot of people hate — or love to hate...? I love him too. 

R: I also love Kasef, so I think I just kind of love everyone, because I’m like well, they’re really interesting. I feel like [Karim’s] arc was one of the things I loved most about season 4 because you can see him really wrestling with his choices and I love watching him fail, cause that’s kind of all he does, so that’s always fun. But I am really curious obviously now he’s been betrayed by Sol Regem, Katolis is in ashes and maybe they’ll blame Karim for that cause Sol Regem is like — dead, and now, presumably his only hope is going to be that his sister doesn’t execute him on the spot? 

A: Yeah.

R: So is there anything you can tease about Karim’s arc in season 7?

A: Yeah, so — so it’s not just Karim, there’s an army of people who betrayed Janai, and — and...

R: What do we do?

A: Yeah, what do we do? That will be something we’ll have to see them grapple with pretty much right away in the season. Especially cause [Karim’s army] showed up for this battle where they were never even — they were just planning to sweep up the ashes afterwards, so when they didn’t get the dragon support they needed, I suspect they lost really quickly. 

R: Yes, yeah.

A: So uh... Yeah, but basically as of the start of season 7 — all of them are prisoners of Queen Janai and the question is — what do you do with that? What do you do when you have an entire army and your own brother who betrayed you? And so that’s — we’ll find out.

R: Yeah. [Laughs] 

A: But yeah.

R: Yeah. Another question I had going forward was Terry and Claudia obviously I thought had a really beautiful relationship arc, particularly in season 6, and we saw in season 4 the lengths he’s willing to go to for her, and how Terry, I think, is a great example of how there’s a lot of character traits where we think “oh, if you’re a selfless, helpful, accepting person, you’re a good person,” and I feel like Dragon Prince does a really good job of how, Rayla’s selflessness can be great but it can also be kinda bad, or, um, Terry can be super accepting, maybe a little too—

A: Yeah.

R: —accepting sometimes, right? So I feel like at the end of season 6, it will presumably be him, Claudia, and Aaravos for a little bit now that he’s out of the prison. And it feels like maybe Terry might hit a breaking point?

A: Here’s what I will say — Terry is a really special character and if you watched him, he’s so good, and what we’ll find out is, he is — there is an episode called TRUE HEART and he is someone who has a true heart.

R: Oh that’s so sweet.

A: It’s very impossibly rare and special — but also we all understand what a true heart is in some way and we’ll learn a little more about that. But yeah, the question of what will Terry do, what can he do, is difficult because he has a very strong sense of right and wrong, but he has a very deep capacity for love and he loves Claudia with all of his heart. Where does that present an impossible conflict, it may... we’ll see a challenge.

R: Yeah. Yeah, for sure.

A: I’ll also throw in like I sometimes see some parallels between Terry and Uncle Iroh—

R: Yes.

A: Though Uncle Iroh I think has a very different journey. Iroh is kind of a recovered problematic person who now has some wisdom and enlightenment, so in terms of the difference between the purity of a true heart versus where Iroh is more of a later stage enlightenment, the love that they have for the kind of complicated person that they are with is similar to me. And the way that they both sometimes have to, or don’t have to but...

R: Choose to?

A: You have to give that person the space — you can’t force them to choose right or wrong, you can be there with them, you can try to guide them, you can — but ultimately you have to give them the space to fail, and eventually, you may have to turn your back on them. 

R: Yeah.

A: At some point. I don’t know. But um yeah — I still see them as connected characters in my mind. 

R: I think I can even see some of that with even the way Callum is with Rayla, like season five onwards, of like “I’ve hit my turning point, I’m not mad at you anymore, and you can steal my key, you can lie to me, and I’m not going to have you open up to me out of guilt or obligation, I want you to tell me what’s going on when you want to tell me what’s going on, and I’m going to give you the space for that.” So I think it speaks to that unconditional love that I think—

A: Yeah.

R: —a lot of the characters are blessed to have. But I do see the Terry Iroh connection. So another thing that I thought was really interesting was — obviously next season is dark magic, and I’m very hopeful that maybe we’ll learn more about the origins of dark magic or Elarion, even. 

A: Great.

R: Because I know when I was watching Sol Regem burn down Katolis, it made me think of what might’ve either happened or almost happened to Elarion in the past, you know? 

A: Yeah.

R: Even down to Ziard and Viren both die, kind of deflecting and trying to save people, with the same staff, you know, and how the cycle continues to just always repeat itself over and over again. And if there was like — yeah, cause burning down Katolis was a massive shakeup, you know?

A: Yup.

R: And what maybe the process was there, with the — Aaravos seems like he’s trying to repeat the cycle of like “Oh I’m going to take down the dragon monarchy or I’m gonna use that vacancy to my advantage, and mess with the Sunfire elves.”

A: He has a specific vendetta against Sol Regem, obviously, but it’s one where he has played it out in... What’s certainly meant to be implied, even though we’ll find out more later, is that one of the great mysteries of Sol Regem’s life is that his mate disappeared and he never found her. He’s the freaking Dragon King, and she disappeared. And though we don’t know how or what happened, while she was buried alive. He killed her. He didn’t even realize it, somehow. Somehow, Aaravos manipulated him into killing her, and he doesn’t — I dunno, I assume Sol Regem does understand when it must have happened, but that moment, it’s like an impossible — it’s meant to be just...

R: Awful.

A: He’s tortured him for 1000 years or whatever, without him knowing he was being tortured by Aaravos, and now he’s given him the mercy/cruelty of knowing the resolution to the mystery was that he killed her. And one of the things that worked well with that was that, we had sort of said Sol Regem can smell the truth from a lie, so he has the horrible curse of being able to know this is the deep dark truth. So I dunno, I think um, are we going to find out more about that? So, if we can eventually get the Book Three novel out [R laughs], we will find out more about that.

R: I did wonder, I was like “Maybe this is something that was gonna be in the book three novelization.”

A: Yes, we will find out more in the book three novel, it may be a year or so before unfortunately. And then I don’t think we’re gonna get too deep into that in season seven, that’s part of — it is involved in what we’re thinking about as the third arc, understanding and resolving the third arc, is gonna go a little deeper into...

R: Some of the history, yeah.

A: Some of the stuff that happened with Sol Regem. But yeah, no, I — it’s enjoyable to have these figures like Aaravos and Sol Regem who are ancient and operate over the course of centuries and are incredibly powerful, yet they can’t — or at least Aaravos,  they can’t conflict directly as easily, and so Aaravos has played this really complicated game. Anyway, but yes Sol Regem is part of that, but there’s — there’s more, there’s more people who — beings that took from him. He feels that Leola was unfairly punished and that that was — you know, he sees a future and he has something... All this time, a burning — it’s the twisted form of his love, in which he’s full of hate right now to the beings who brought this about. Obviously, Sol Regem played a role because he’s a rules dragon.

R: Yeah, yeah.

A: He is the one who betrayed her to the Cosmic Council ultimately — but how do you punish the Cosmic Council? That’s a bit more complicated.

R: Yeah. No, I remember finishing season six and just being so impressed with the story. Like, taking that direction, and almost doing a lot of recontextualization, because it’s one thing to have like your worldbuilding where “magic in the story works like this” and it’s just very kind of like hand of God, you know? Like oh — cause the magic system has always been unfair, that’s why we have Callum, you know? It’s another thing to say we’re going to have characters in the story who are responsible for it being unfair. And now we’re just going to have that in terms of conflict and themes of destiny. We have about seven, ten-ish minutes left I think.

A: Probably seven, if that’s okay?

R: Yeah. Of course. 

A: I’ll throw one other thing in there, which is that — cause characters experience things that change them: has Aaravos experienced — I’ll phrase it as a question, even though probably the answer is here, has Aaravos experienced much that has changed him in the last — since the death of Leola? I mean certainly some things, and is what’s happening now changing him in any way? Is it satisfaction, is it the relationship with Claudia, and what does that mean to someone? That’s a question that I think we’ll have to watch play out a little bit.

R: [Intrigued] Okay. Yeah. One thing that I really liked about Leola’s character was I felt like she had pieces of each of the main trio in her? Of this very helpful innocent well meaning child, kind of like Ezran — and I have also always seen Ezran as autistic as well cause I know that Leola canonically is — and then you also kind of have the whole oh she gave  / helped humans have primal magic, which obviously Callum has. And even just being this young elven girl punished for her compassion and mercy, that felt a lot like Rayla. And when making the choice for Leola to be Leola, was that something intentional or like the choice for it to be a child rather than another loved one?

A: It was very intentional that it was a child... And we talked through other versions of Leola that could’ve been, in other ages, genders, relationships with Aaravos that an important person was lost. Some of the things I liked about the way, Leola both as a child, children are the cycle breakers.

R: Yes, yeah. I think it was the strongest choice.

A: And in particular also, the idea of coding her autistic was a little bit like not as cued to kind of accept the social order and the order of things, but actually more open in a way to in what some people see as like — something that’s broken which is not taking those cues, something else about that — not being bound by it that allowed her to have compassion that crossed the line in terms of the perceptions of what the Cosmic Order needed to be in it — but it made her more, both as a child and an autistic person, to make that choice and do what she did that changed everything.

R: Makes a lot of sense.

A: [Her being a child] also frames it with some innocence obviously right? It’s not calculated, it’s kind. 

R: Yeah.

A: So I dunno.

R: Yeah. Yeah, I’ve been curious about how Ezran might be challenged now that Runaan is back in the picture.

A: That’s a great question. That’s a great question. I mean, it’s so weird, it’s like no one even asks that, it’s like “Cool,” Rayla’s like “I’m gonna go get him. Awesome! Runaan’s back.”

R: Yeah I’m like either — either Callum is like “Ezran will be totally fine with it,” and Ezran  is probably not going to be fine with it, or maybe Callum knew that maybe it wouldn’t be great, and kept it under wraps. Yeah, I’m so excited for that like trio, potential broyals conflict, so...

A: Well, I mean, Ezran is a very special kid and he’s very positive and kind and forgiving and all of this. But we’re talking about, Runaan is back.

R: Castle’s destroyed.

A: Katolis is rubble. Where does that leave him?

R: Yeah.

A: You know? I mean — so I’m excited about that part of Ezran.

R: I know the fandom is really, really excited for Ezran to get to be — not that he hasn’t always been complex, but to get to be like messier, of letting his emotions maybe get the better of him and that sort of thing. So people are definitely hype for that, for — cause I feel like season six really brought home a lot of things for Soren, and it seems like season seven is going to do a similar thing for Ezran, so that’s — that’s really exciting. Um, with our final couple minutes, I wanted to see — do you have any questions that you want fans to ponder or to be thinking about?

A: Um... Gosh. I don’t think I have anything specific that we haven’t talked about, but you know. On some level, like, you know how do you take the tragedies and conflicts that we all inevitably face repetitively and relentlessly and kind of learn to move forward in hope and optimism? I think that’s more of a question of like how do you personally learn to process — all the kind of bullshit in the world, and process it, and still move forward as a kind, connected—

R: Measured person.

A: —hopeful person? That’s a challenge we all face in our lives, so that’s like...

R: Yeah. Well, I think the show does a good — really good job at asking and challenging that — that question. Uh, yeah, I think — I think that’s our time for today, uh. Thank you so much, this was... 

A: It was my pleasure. 

R: This was a lot of fun.

A: It’s always my pleasure reading your theories and your—

R: [Gasps] Oh my gosh.

A: Honestly, I came on today and to tell the truth [R laughs] a little bit intimidated.

R: Oh my God. 

A: You’re so—

R: I also felt intimidated [laughing] so don’t worry.

A: You’re so insightful and articulate, that I almost am like [R laughs] what if they catch me that there’s something not as smart in the show as I thought it was?

R: Oh my gosh, no, you’re fine.

A: [Overlapping] So anyway, I really enjoy what you write—

R: [Overlapping] I’m also a writer so I know what it’s like to be like “I did this subconsciously,” it’s — yeah.

A: I love what you instigate in the fandom and the kind of conversations you support and engage in. I’m a huge fan of yours, so.

R: Oh! Thank you so much, that’s so sweet. Um. And I am a huge fan of yours.

A: Yay. That’s a great way to end a podcast.

R: That is a great way. Okay. Alright, well thank you so much, hope you have a great day, great week, uh, and — yeah. Okay.

A: Alright, and I’ll see you soon, we’ll do this again sometime, I hope. 

R: Yes! Yeah. Okay.

A: Alright. Thanks again. Alright, bye.

[russellsppttemplates]

A little hope (Part 2) (Lando Norris)

In which Lando realises he learnt a few things in school, and yet the only way to learn about you is hoping you'll have him by your side

Note: english is not my first language. This is part two of A little hope, which got a lot of love, so thank you for that 😊 hopefully you enjoy this ending! Thank you so much for the love on that piece ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions a couple's fight, self deprecation moments, body image insecurity, signs and symptoms of anxiety, online hate comments, sickness, curse words, allusions to smut

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

Somatic or not, your stomach was not handling any food. The minute you ate something, you were sure to bring if up a few moments later since you had arrived home, "for fuck's sake", you groaned, resting your head on your forearm on the edge of the toilet, taking a deep breath.

When you felt strong enough, you walked back to your bed, noticing the clock was reading six in the morning already. Rolling to the other side, you hoped you'd be able to sleep it off, but when your alarm rung, you felt even worse than before.

Getting your phone again along with your glasses, you opened the Team's group chat, writing a quick text to let them know that you didn't feel well and you wouldn't be able to join them today and that you would try your best to get ahead on the projects you could work on remotely. A few minutes later, Tara and Max texted back.

Tara TQ

I'm sorry to hear that, Y/N, I hope you feel better soon! Don't worry about anything else other than getting better! 💚

Max

Feel better soon, Y/N! Don't worry about work, we've got it!

A good while later you woke up again, feeling slightly better, you had enough energy to eat some plain crackers and drink some tea, feeling that it was actually settling in your stomach for the first time in the last couple of hours.

Taking in the stride, you went to the bathroom, hoping a shower would clean the night sweats away and give you a little boost. Just in case, you supported yourself on the wall, keeping close to it just in case your legs faltered while you let the water cascade down your hair to your back and legs, washing your hair quickly and rinsing your body wash from your skin. You wrapped your fluffy robe around your body and a towell for your hair, laying in bed to rest a little.

Skipping your usual routine, you dressed in some comfy clothes, a hoodie you had stolen from Lando and some plaid pyjama pants, inhaling the comforting scent. That was something you should think about, it wasn't fair to leave Lando waiting for you, and you needed to sort it out.

As if on cue, your doorbell rang, leaving you to think it was the mailman with a package for your neighbours as you would often take it for them whenever they weren't home.

"Hi! Are you Y/N Y/L/N?", a guy that looked a few years older than you checked, "yes, that's me", you squinted, "I have this, it was ordered for you. Enjoy it!", he said as he handed you a takeout bag.

Thanking him, you closed the door, seeing a little note attached to the bag.

This is a little something to help you get better soon. There's some chicken soup, pasta when you feel up to it, something sweet and some tea bags.

Love you, Lando 🤍

Smiling at the little note, your heart squeezed as you realised that the subject shouldn't go past this week.

While you heated up the soup, you grabbed your phone, opening your conversation with Lando so you could thank him.

I just got the takeout bag, thank you. I'm slowly coming back to feeling better, it's probably some forty-eight hour bug and my body telling me to slow down.

I think we should talk soon, whenever you have the time, tough. There's no rush!

I love you ✨️

"So, today we're taking over the stream!", Lando announced to the camera, smiling and waving as the chat went wild.

"We are just going to game, I think, as there has been a change of plans and we don't really know how to follow up to what we had planned to do", Max referred to the planned stream for Quadrant. The original idea came from the fans as they wanted to get to know the behind the scenes of the team, and just for luck, this week was for Graphic Design.

"We're making do with what we have, and as soon as we're able, we'll do the behind the scenes for all the graphic designing things that go on at Quadrant!", Lando smiled sympathetically, the memory of you fond as your message sparked his hope, and the chat didn't seem to mind it too much.

I was hoping to see Y/N and Lando call me single in eighteen different languages, but I really do miss her

I take it she didn't even bother to show up, she's learnt her lesson I guess

Wasn't Y/N supposed to join them?

You can tell by Lando's face that he misses her, they're so cute together

It looks better like this, honestly

Imagine having to call your boyfriend to tell him that you can't show up to work

She probably doesn't even work, Lando has someone doing the job while she sits still and looks pretty

What do you mean? She doesn't even look pretty ??

Maybe she's ill or had something else to do? Can't you people be a little bit more empathetic and kind for once?

Max noticed how his bestfriend's attention was on the chat, looking at the same flood of comments he did before clearing his throat, "so, do we feel like racing or are we leaning towards another game?", he interjected, pulling Lando away from the screen slightly, "you choose, I'm not fancying anything particular. Only that I know that I'll beat you at anything", he chuckled.

Once they ended the stream, Lando tidied the room a little bit as Max switched the equipment off, "is that what you were talking about the other day? About Y/N?", he questioned.

"Yes. We have been talking to the platform managers, but they haven't restricted everything apparently", Max said, knowing better than to not tell him the truth.

"Who do they think they are to say things like that about someone they don't know? I get that I receive such things because I'm out there, but Y/N is barely a public person! She doesn't deserve that!", Lando huffed.

"Have you guys talked about it yet?", he questioned, having noticed that Lando hadn't texted you in the group chat but that he had a spring up in his step that afternoon.

"She texted me today, actually. We've been keeping to ourselves, we weren't in the right mind to discuss what needs to be discussed until now", he smiled, "I'm still unsure of going to see her today or tomorrow, since she's sick I don't want to bother her too much, and I could use someone else's perspective because I have a funny way with words and I don't want to get it wrong because I'm not a book worm and seem almost illiterate on any good day", he admitted.

"That's good, mate! Start going then, we're thinking out loud", Max encouraged, happy to see friend in high spirits. Because he had known him for so long, Max knew how different this relationship was from his past ones. They weren't bad or wrong, and they helped shape Lando into who he is and how he behaves. The way he cared about Y/N was different and Max couldn't find it in him and lie about the fact that he thought the young woman was it.

"Like you said, it's the fact that she's lost her name because of who she dates. All of a sudden, none of her achievements are valuable, worthy or even acknowledged because she's my girlfriend. Our relationship had nothing to do with her employment - hell, I only met her because she applied, otherwise Goodness knows where I would've met the love of my life - and, and I've been doing this thing where I just call her my girlfriend and I now understand that can be discrediting of her, like I just see her as my girlfriend. But the more I think about it, the more I realise I do it out of genuine pride of her. Look at me! I'm a muppet and I drive around in circles in the weekends, and she! That woman, this woman!", he showed him his lockscreen, a picture of the two of you, "she is the most talented person I've met and I'm so proud that I'm hers and she's mine!".

"I think you're underestimating yourself a little, but you've also played above your game", he chuckled, "and about the comments?", he wondered. Even though it wasn't your biggest concern, he knew one person could only muster up so much before letting it get to them.

"Like you said, we'll work with the platforms, if we have her permission we can also put out a statement about it. With her or anyone on the team, we don't tolerate offense", Lando said, "I want to make this as safe as possible, and the fact that it took her for us to notice it is a learning curve".

"Now you just need to be concise about it", Max tapped his back, "I'm sure she loves that babble situation of yours, thinks it's cute and all, but explain well enough", he smirked.

Like he thought, when he texted you to know how you were feeling, he got your reply awhile later saying that you were feeling better and the nap you had was helpful, and then another one saying he could swing by the next day if he wanted to.

Hoping the night made you feel better, Lando texted you the time he was planning to join you, scheduling his training session for the late morning so he could have a good lunch after his shower and get his plans started. You weren't swooned by big dates or big gestures, but rather small meaningful heartfelt things, so he stopped by the pharmacy to pick up some medication to restock your stash and your favourite chocolate.

"Hey, love", you smiled as you opened the door, seeing an equally smiling Lando, "come in, come in", you nudged as he stepped forward, eyes meeting a silently giving consent for a kiss on the cheek.

Silently, Lando left his trainers by the door, walking hand in hand with you to the living room, "are you feeling back to 100%?", he questioned as you sat down on the sofa, on your sides so you could face eachother while his hand played with yours still.

"Yes. I'm glad it's Saturday and I don't have to take any more days, and I can rest up without feeling guilty. And you, how have you been?", you wondered back, not knowing if he wanted to jump straight in the topic.

"I've been well. I was a little worried when you said you were sick, but now I'm better knowing that you're doing well... and that you're ready to tall about us", he blushed, eyes looking into yours.

"I want to thank you for waiting and understanding, and I want to apologise if in this mean time something I did hurt you or made you feel like you weren't welcomed in my life", you gulped, "I'm not used to feeling so little - fuck, I've never been called that - and I spiralled out to the point where I could only think that, through no fault of your own or my own, I'd lose my identity. I'd be Lando's girlfriend, and not Y/N, and I freaked out a little", you explained.

"You had your reasons, love. I'm just glad and thankful that you feel comfortable to tell me how you feel", Lando comforted, bringing your hand up to his lips as he kissed the soft skin.

"I didn't know you felt that way. Maybe I didn't see it or didn't want to see it, the way people were talking about you - and that is something we are going to figure out once for all - but I missed it. Whenever I say you're my girlfriend, it's not because that's just who you are. It's the fact that I'm incredibly proud of you, than I can't believe your my girlfriend and I just say it because I like to show you off, too!

"I learned so much stuff in school despite what I may appear to know, subtracting and multiplying with decimals, all of the capital cities, even though I'm still shit at them, yet, no one taught me how to prepare for this, for you, for how I feel about you. And I'm so proud of you that I tell it to everyone that you're my girlfriend, not because you're just that, but because I love you and you're so amazing", he exhaled out. Even though he had his usually silly tone, there was deep seriousness in his words still.

"You're confident, I love that about you, and to know that indirectly I was the person to put a dent in that makes me wonder if you should stick around me, because I don't want to ever hurt you. And maybe this is selfish, but I don't want to live without you. Now that I've known what it is like to have you in my life, to be yours, I don't want anyone else", he gulped at his own admission. Throughout the years, he learnt about vulnerability and came to terms with his own. Right now, it was bare for anyone to see.

"I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't your own person, and I'm sorry if I did anything to hurt you or disrespect you", he sighed, seeing your watery eyes, "no tears, baby, I can't stand to see you cry", he whispered, cleaning the stray tear that made it's way down your cheek.

"I love you, Lando. I'm the luckiest girl to be able to see you for you, no titles or sponsorships, just you, around your friends and family, see your vulnerability, and I'm the luckiest because I get to be loved by you. So many people around you love you, and I get to be one of those you love back", you scooted closer to him, hands cupping his cheek before you kissed his lips.

"I always want you to be honest with me, baby. Anything you need to tell me, we will fix it, I know we will. I love how you always cry when Boo and Sulley hug for the last time in Monsters Inc. no matter how much times you've seen it, because you always let me know how you feel, and I want that for us. I'll show you how I feel too, and you can nag me when I don't. You're it, Y/N, no one else", he stated, "things people are saying about you are not okay, but Max and I, and the media team, too, are working on something".

"I don't care about who you've dated before, genuinely. But the fact that I'm bombarded everyday with comments regarding my body or my job from people who don't have any knowledge and only want to hurt, it's hard", you admitted, keeping your promise of showing him how you felt.

"You shouldn't because I don't either. I'm with you, and I plan to be with you for as long as you'll have me. I love you, I love your body, I love your personality and everything that you are", he said, getting up as he pulled you with him.

"Up", Lando said as he tapped your hip, helping you jump and wrap your legs around his waist, "where are you taking me?", you giggled, your hands coming to the nape of his neck and fiddling with his curls, "I'm taking you to the bed, and I'm going to love on you for the next couple of hours. We are going to have slow and soft sex, love making if you will, just to show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me".

[moonystoes]

Safe Dance - Elisa De Almeida x international!reader

summary: this pretty much explains it all lol.

Warning: Sexual assault, old man being a creep, mentions of alcohol, not well written, slowww burn like it's pissing me off too im sorry, elisa being our protective queen.

a/n: i'm bringing this up again, i just started writing, especially fics as long as this (the last one -and the first- had only 500 words). So feedback and help is needed!! also sorry i got a little bored and wrote too many useless things lol.

w/c: 5.218k

You knew you needed to celebrate your high GPA after graduating from your bachelor degree at some point. But you've been putting it off, feeling like it's too much effort and energy for your introverted self. It's no secret French people are distant towards foreigners, it's been something known worldwide (which is ironic since a big part of their population are people of color coming from different countries from Africa and Asia). But you ignored all the toxic things you heard about France when you unexpectedly got a scholarship into the University of Paris.

Now, four years later, you are still alone. You have made friends in some projects, but right when the project is over, your friendship ends as well. Your mom has messaged you a long paragraph on how proud she is of you, but the loneliness is still wearing you down. You knew you probably looked silly walking down the street, wearing a short V-neck dress with high heels obviously to party, but there is a permanent frown on your face.

When you looked up from your phone, you didn't even need to look for the club. You can feel the music vibrate the ground and there is a huge line at the entrance. You turned off your phone and waited in line, wanting to just drink all day and celebrate by then. You checked on your friend (an international student like you) who promised that she'll be here, but your message was left on delivered for 2 hours. 

After 15 minutes of scrolling through your Instagram and 3 missed calls to Liz, it was your turn to show the security your ID. His dark eye bags showed you that he was too exhausted to care, so he took less than a second to glance at your card before returning it to you, and opening the door for you in a frustrated way.

You walked in awkwardly, couples grinding and dancing around you, you felt disgusted - and secretly jealous. The club was dark and had red LED lights, it was filled with large posters of icons and models from the 70s, and of course the playboy magazines of women wearing lingerie. It looked good enough for you to settle down on the bar stool and immediately order a light drink. 

While you were sitting there to decide whether you should dance or wait for Liz (you were honestly frustrated at her for ditching you with no explanation), the bartender passed a large drink towards you. You glanced at him with a confused look, “oh sorry, I didn't order this.”

“Yeah I know, it's the man there.” He pointed to the table on your left, to an older man with thin white hair. Your jaw dropped when you looked at him, realizing that he caught you staring.

“Umm… that old man?” You tried your hardest to whisper over the thudding music, trying not to let the creep that is sitting just 2 meters away from you hear what you said. The bartender nodded and walked away to the other side of the bar, making you sigh in annoyance that he didn't bother to even help you out. You slowly pushed the light pink drink away from you, it smelled strong which showed his true intentions, getting you drunk.

You pulled out your phone and texted Liz a quick message, “Liz a man is being weird where are you ☹️☹️?” You scrolled through your gallery to pretend you are doing something and distract yourself from the man on your left, until you are tapped on the shoulder. You froze, quickly turning off your phone as you took a deep breath, pretending that you didn't feel it.

“May I know why you didn't accept the drink, it was really expensive.” you flinched when you felt his breath hit your neck, no way this is happening today. Where the fuck is Liz? You turned around slowly, trying to act calm and collected, “sorry, I didn't want to drink today, I'm just here for someone.”

“I don't see anyone here,” he mockingly glanced around the bar to see the ‘person’ you were waiting for. “I saw you drink just a few minutes ago.”

You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath. You glanced at his striking blue eyes and felt your hands starting to shake, you looked away back to the drink he ordered for you and grasped it, taking a small sip just to taste what it is. You knew you were fucked, Liz isn't here and she's probably not going to come, the bartender couldn't give a shit, and this man won't leave you alone. Why was he at a bar on a Wednesday night? Doesn't he have some office job to do tomorrow or is he too old that he's retired now.

The drink tasted sour and tangy, but had a strawberry flavor. The burning of your throat made you cough and your eyes shutting close, it was definitely alcoholic, very alcoholic. You rested the drink on the table and faked-smiled and awkwardly nodded, but your smile disappeared when his hand clutched your arm and pulled you forward, “why don't you dance with me, huh? Wearing this dress for nothing must be a shame.” 

You panicked and took a quick scan of your surroundings to see who could help. On the bar table to your left, there were other older men, possibly friends of the weirdo that's now bruising your arm. On the large leather sofas that were placed on the other corner, there was a couple?...a throple? A man was sitting comfortably on it as he crossed his legs on the mini table in front of him, two girls were sprawled over him, one playing with his hair and the other playing with his shirt while she chugs from a beer can…yeah they will be too busy to help.

You took a quick turn to the VIP entrance, seeing a short girl with a Gucci bag waiting to be let in… rich spoiled people are too busy to look around. You swore you never cared about religion until then, when the man tugged you to his chest, your eyes slowly closing as you were holding your tears praying to God to let you out of this misery.

You felt his hands being placed on your hips, as he forcefully tugged your back towards his groin. He pushed you to the crowded area so people can't see your discomfort in your face. 

But before he does more than this, a large hand tugged you away from the man, making the man behind you exhale loudly. “Anna! I'm sorry for making you wait, hey let's go…umm do you know him?” you've never heard such a soft yet deep voice like this. Before you even had the chance to look at who grabbed you, her right arm tugged you into her chest, trying to hide you from the stranger. “No, I don't.” You whispered, afraid of making the situation even bigger.

“Seriously? you were waiting for this…” His angry voice and arm pointing at the both of you made you anxiously stare at him. He looked at the woman hugging you up and down with disgust before muttering a ‘nevermind’ and stomping off.

You shakingly held tightly into her, staring at the spot the man was at. “Are you okay?” She let out a soft whisper from above your head. You were shaken at the whole encounter, blocking off what she said until you felt soft taps on your shoulder, making you look up at her.

This was the first opportunity you had to actually see who saved you from this, and she was gorgeous. She had sunglasses placed on the collar of her dress shirt with two of the buttons opened. Why was she even wearing a dress shirt at a club? When you looked up to her face (because she's 5 '9 and the first thing you saw was her tan skin), her hair was short, swooped to the side. Her cheekbones were sharp and her eyes were furrowed worriedly. You quickly separated from her and took two steps away.

“Hey, it's okay.” She took a step forward, opening her hands around her face to show you she doesn't want to hurt you, “are you waiting for someone?”

You looked away from her eyes, the smell of alcohol and sweat is making it difficult for you to think straight -literally. You looked at your phone, finding a new notification, “oh thank God she responded!” You relaxed, until you pressed on it.

“Hey baby!! It's your favorite uncle 😉, just saw your post about graduating. Congratulations! I miss you so much. Maybe one day we can all reunite when you graduate your masters 💪keep working hard!”

You inhaled deeply, turning off your phone and throwing it in your mini purse. You looked at the woman, she looked at you with raised brows waiting for an explanation for your reaction. You rested your hand on your forehead and frustratedly groaned out, “no she fucking ignored my messages.”

Her face turned sour as she looked behind you, probably to the place where the old men were sitting, giving you the chance to look at her face once again. You blushed at her clenched sharp jaw, slight pink cheeks, and the soft lips. When you looked back at her eyes, she was already looking at you.

You internally wanted to kill yourself for looking at her lips, because she definitely caught that. You looked away to her arms, doing everything in your power to not look at her face again. But then you realized glancing at her arms will make the situation even worse. Her arms were athletic and the sleeves were tight around her biceps. How is she this hot?

“You can stay with me, my friends are here.” She softly grasped your hand, pulling you away from the crowded dance floor. “It's fine, I'll just go home.”

“No, come on! It's a secluded area, no one will bother us.” She encouraged you, her hand still in yours. You looked down at your heels, you felt like shit. This whole time at the bar was for you and Liz to celebrate your day and you end up being a charity case for a hot woman. You don't even know why you chose the club, you hated partying anyways. You bit into your lip, one single line going through your head:

I deserve to celebrate my achievements no matter with who. I'm the one who worked hard for this, I need this.

“Okay just… Please don't do this because you feel bad for what happened.” her eyes softened, intertwining your fingers with hers and whispering a soft ‘never’. You felt embarrassed as she was dragging you around the bar to the place her friends are staying at, you didn't want to see anyone’s face so you just looked down at your intertwined hands and hoped you won't collide with anyone. Your hand looked small compared to her large ones as she held into you, feeling her rough skin tightly around yours.

When you realized she stopped, you looked up to where she took you. “Oh no… I'm not going there,” You frowned at her, “VIP? I heard it's expensive here.” You felt guilty that she might spend money on a spot for you, but you were curious on how she makes enough money to be here.

“Don't worry, my work has paid for the night here, I didn’t spend a euro on me or anyone.” She smiled at you, finding it cute how you were worried about her money. She let go of your hand and opened the door slowly, signaling her hand to follow her.

You stood still for a few seconds, feeling exhausted and tired. And unfortunately, you felt gross. You looked down at your dress, remembering what the old man said. It was your favorite, it may not look fancy but you've loved it and waited for a moment to wear it, now you can't even glance at it without feeling down. You glanced at the woman, she had already taken a few steps until she realized you weren't following her, “Do you want to go home? I can order you an Uber?”

This was your chance to actually get to know someone, you've been alone all this time in Paris and Liz was an American student. The woman in front of you seemed like the first French woman that actually tried to befriend you, and she's attractive. Her face softened as she took a few steps towards you again, understanding your silence. “My name is Elisa, what's yours?”

“Y/n.” You didn't know what to do after this so you reached out your hand to handshake her, internally cringing from how awkward you are…no wonder why your love life is as low as your mood today. She giggled and grasped your hand, shaking it aggressively. You looked at her with a confused face and she just winked quickly, “so… y/n why are you here at the club on a Wednesday night?”

“I just graduated so I wanted to celebrate.” You were staring at your held hands, feeling awkward when looking at anyone's eyes, especially élisa's. But when you felt her hand immediately let go of yours and wipe it off with her dress pants, you looked at her face slightly hurt. Her eyes are slightly widened, which made you realize why she let go of your hand, “bachelor degree in physical therapy.”

“Ohh! That's so nice. You know at my job we need a lot of physiotherapists, I like them.” Her body physically relaxed, making you laugh at her panic. The poor woman thought you were some high school student, but you didn't blame her, you never made it clear when you spoke about it.

“Cool… what do you work as?” You asked, a smile appearing in your face. You didn't realize that by a small comment, Elise made your feelings better just as she planned. She let out an open smile when she noticed yours, feeling proud of herself for making you feel better.

“Guess.” 

Your smile wiped off your face, “no please I don't like doing this game just say it.”

She laughed, “I'll give you a hint, I wear number 5.”

It took a moment for you to answer because you froze when you heard her laugh, making a stupid grin plaster into your face, “...football?” You dragged the word as you questioned, worried it might be wrong. She nodded with a proud smile.

“Wow, that's so cool I do watch football!... not the women, I don't know where to watch…sorry.”

She laughed, stepping closer and resting her left arm around your shoulder, encouraging you to walk through the dark maroon hallway with her. “It's okay, we're used to it.”

When you looked up from this angle, your attraction worsened. Her side profile was perfect. It took a moment for you to recover from it, “ehm…some girls in my class wanted to be football physios so they could work with Szoboszlai.” You muttered, obviously not knowing what to say. You didn't know if you should wrap your right hand around her waist or just keep it awkwardly limping between the both of you.

She glanced at you and laughed, “and you? Is that what you wanted?”. You looked away, deciding to focus on the dark walnut wood corridor in front of you instead of her eyes. “I don't really like men.”

“Ha! Me too.” Her left arm tapped your shoulder to the beat of the music. Elisa was glad that you weren't into men; she felt like it's finally her time where she can get attention from a woman that isn't a fangirl. She pulled you inside a room, filled with people singing and jumping around.

You felt sick all over again, not knowing Elisa had this many friends. You remembered her speaking about her work paying for this, are all of these people her teammates? The room was built almost like a sunken living room, the leather couches were placed into the ground around the walls with stairs in the side, and two small tables placed in two opposite corners that were filled with drinks and purses. Elisa felt your body turn rigid, she leaned in close to your ear and whispered gently, “They're all nice, I promise.” You turned to look at her, you didn't understand why but you felt at ease around her, maybe because of what she did earlier, but you took a deep breath and calmed down.

She pointed at an empty seat next to a blonde woman, “hey Jackie, this is y/n, she's a physiotherapy graduate.” Jackie turned to look at you and elisa, she smiled brightly and raised her hand to signal you to sit with her. You let out a tight-lipped smile and approached the table to sit. You noticed Jackie looking at your attire and glancing at Elisa with a confused look, but before she said a thing, Elisa interrupted her by saying she needed to go to the bathroom.

Well shit, now you have to do this alone. You stared at Elisa as she was walking out, secretly checking her out and also praying that she’ll come back soon. “Umm… do you work here?”

You turned to look at Jackie, “oh, no. I'm just here to party.”

“Ohh…I thought you were one of the dancers offered here.” She looked at her whiskey and took a sip, clearly not seeing the shock in your face.

You froze as you gave her a confused glance, “oh. You thought I was a stripper?” You glanced down at your dress… It's a short dress, yes, but a dancer? You had no disrespect for them, just felt a little confused. Does Elisa call dancers for a lap dance? Is this where she went to?

“Oh not your dress! It's just that Elisa never spoke about bringing someone here so I assumed. Also, you're really pretty.” She gave you a wink with her compliment.

You gave her a soft smile with a shy ‘thanks’. “Elisa isn't really into those things, that’s why I was kind of confused.” She nudged your arm when you glanced at the exit again, realizing that you were waiting for Elisa. After hearing what Jackie said, you relaxed into your seat and looked at your surroundings.

Everyone seemed drunk except one, her thick black hair was tied in a high ponytail, too engrossed with her phone to really notice anyone. The other players were dancing, some were singing loudly to some song by Aya, an icon in french music from what you noticed in the past four years living here. “May I ask how you know elisa?” Jackie asked.

“Oh we just met here so…” you shrugged, you didn't feel like telling anyone what actually happened. Jackie nodded, taking her purse into her lap and pulling things out, trying to find something in it. After a while of scrolling on tiktok and looking at the girls partying, Elisa came back in, immediately settling down next to you. You looked at her with a smile, glad that she's back, but your smile was wiped off when you saw her frustrated and sweaty state. When she noticed the worry in your eyes she leaned in closer to you, “Do you like this club?”

You were caught off guard from this question and nodded slowly, “good because I want you to come back here,” You were confused, obviously you'll never come here. It doesn't matter how nice and fancy this place is, after that weirdo, you'll never step foot here. “I kicked him out, he's banned from coming here again.”

“Wa- wait what?” You gasped, looking at the door she came back from, expecting to see him standing there. But he wasn't, and even from the small glass window on the door, you can see that his spot is now empty, as well as his friends’.

“I want you to feel safe celebrating your achievements, I know today has probably been shit.” You bit your lip, turning to look at Jackie playing with her now found camera. You couldn't look at Elisa's eyes or else you would cry. You felt her hand softly caress your shoulder, bringing your body closer to hers. “Thank you, I mean… I don't even know what else to say.”

She gave you a gentle smile and turned to look at her teammates singing karaoke now. “No problem, now do you want to sing and dance with them? Or just sit here?”

“I'll just sit here, you can have fun with them.”

She looked back at you, deciding to lean back into the coach and find a comfortable position. “I play for Paris Saint Germain.”

“What! No way…I feel like shit for not watching you play.” You gasped, psg is the biggest team in France. And that's probably because they are loaded with money and can afford the top players, but you wondered how powerful the women's team is.

She laughed, quickly shaking her head, “don't feel that way! I just wanted to tell you. We just got qualified for the quarterfinals of the champions league that's why they're all drunk and shit.” She tilted her head towards a player dancing on the table. You bit your lip trying not to laugh at the poor woman, but when you heard Elisa's cackle, you let out a little laugh.

“Quarterfinals to the champions league… that's great! That's so cool, honestly, you should go and dance with them!” You pushed her towards the women, but she didn't even budge. She winked at you when she saw you try to move her and held your arm down, “Are you actually trying to push me or are you playing around?”

You knew she was joking, she can tell your struggling face when you tried to push her. You glanced at the way she grabbed your forearm, feeling the blush coming around your cheeks. Her muscles tensed beneath her fitted black shirt, elisa has been trying to subtly send you hints without panicking too much. But she knew she needed to do something even more, so she let her hand slowly go from your forearm to your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. A shy smile broke out in both of your faces, looking up to see her already smiling at you. “Okay…maybe I do want to dance a little.”

You bite your lip and give her a soft nod, indicating that you wanted to dance with her. She grinned brightly and stood up from the couch, delicately pulling you with her. You felt content for the first time, you're finally going to dance and party like how you wanted before you came here in the first place. Elisa pulled you into her body, looking at your eyes to see if you're okay with her wrapping her arms around your waist. You felt speechless so you just nodded and dragged your hands from her forearms all the way to her shoulders, blushing at the feeling of her rough muscles.

Because you were busy trying to mask your flustered state, you didn't notice the panic Elisa was in. Her tightly wrapped hands were shaking and it seemed like she couldn't even glance at your face for three seconds without finding something else to look at. The girls had stopped singing karaoke now, the speaker playing some french afrobeats. “I forgot to tell you, I'm shit at dancing. I was planning on getting too drunk to care.” You admitted with a laugh, elisa tightened her hands around your waist, making your chest flush with hers. “Oh wait until you see me dance.” 

“You do realize this song isn’t for slow dancing?” You loved the feeling of her body against yours, but the idea of slow dancing to afrobeats in front of people is confusing you. “Shhh don’t ruin the moment now.” she joked, turning her head around the room, she looked back at you and said, “They’re all too drunk to care.”

You looked around the room, and fortunately she was right. The girls were all dancing, separated into multiple groups and only focusing on them. Even the sober one had stood up and was dancing with the rest. You rested your head on her shoulder, feeling like it doesn’t matter at this point what happens between you. Elisa will probably forget about you, and date an instagram model like every football player does -well… that’s what the male players do at least.

“You tired?” her velvety voice soothed you as she leaned her head on yours. You closed your eyes and hummed in response, not feeling like moving your body. You tried to excuse the exhaustion as the sickness from the old man, but throughout the semester, you have been sleeping 4 hours and only working and studying. And today has been the day you can finally rest.

Elisa moved her hands from your waist to wrap them around your shoulders instead. As much as she was worried about the possible rejection from you, she felt great about you being okay with her physical touches and wanted to enjoy the chance. She can feel your beating heart from the thin dress you’re wearing against her sternum. Elisa’s long fingers were playing with the hem of the dress from your neck, her body slowly rocking as if she’s putting a baby to sleep.

“Thank you,” You whispered, opening your eyes just to see her jaw. “For today. I may not seem happy, but I am really grateful for this, I’m happy.”

“Do you want to go home?”

You stayed silent for a few seconds, before letting out a short breathy laugh, “Is it obvious I don’t like to party?” You didn’t want to offend her, especially after what she did.

“I can call an uber for you, or I can drive you home if you don’t feel safe.” You almost wanted to cry at how thoughtful she is, but you knew you needed some alone time after all of this. Also, the thought of parting ways with Elisa and her completely forgetting about you is eating you alive.

“Thank you, but I’ll feel very guilty if I take you away from the party you should be celebrating.” You let go of the tight embrace you were in, looking at her eyes to let her know how much you meant it. She sighed and nodded with a small hidden frown in her face. Elisa felt like a child attached to a toy, she was worried to let you go and never find you again. Now that she kicked the assaulters out, she hoped you’d come to the club more often.

“Okay, I’ll walk you out.” She held your hand and walked you out of the VIP entrance. The smell of sweat and alcohol hit you in the face, the club is even busier now since it was around 10 at night. Elisa pulled you to her body, putting her arm around your shoulder protectively in case someone does a thing to you. Once you reached the closest exit, she pushed the heavy door and let you go out.

“Ehm… Can I have your phone number?” Elisa suddenly blurted, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye, so she said the lamest thing she thought, “Just to make sure you went home safe…you never know what can happen.”

When Elisa asked that question, your heart started beating faster, your worry about losing her is now out of your head, feeling glad that she wanted to contact you. But after her explanation, you sighed in disappointment, she’s probably not interested in you, she wants to know if you went home safe only.

“Yeah, okay.” You opened your hand, waiting for her to hand you her phone. She pulled out her phone from her front pocket, and passed it to you quickly. Her palms were sweaty from anxiousness, and she hoped her sweat wasn’t all over the phone. She knew she fucked up, she could’ve told you the truth but instead she acted like some sick teenager, and it made her even more annoyed with herself when she saw the excitement in your face disappear like fog. She wanted you to know she’s interested in you. You typed your phone number quickly, before giving it back to her with a tight smile.

“Bye-Bye,” You stepped back, still facing her. “Again, thank you for today.” You gave her a small wave, and then turned and walked your way back home. She was invading your thoughts, her face, her smile, her deep yet delicate voice, her body, and the fact that she’s a professional player that can get anyone she wants.

Once you reached home, you looked at your phone notifications, there were none. 0 from Liz, and 0 from Elisa. You cussed yourself, why would she even bother to text you? She is the hottest woman you’ve ever seen, you probably look like charity work next to her exes. You boiled water for instant noodles, feeling too low to even worry about making dinner. After eating the soggy cheap noodles, you turned on the bathtub faucet and added some oils to calm you down and distract you from Elisa. You contemplated on searching up her name and see what google says about her, but you forced yourself to not even look up a picture of her. She clearly doesn’t care about you, why would you care about her?

After the 30 minute depressing bath, you plopped into the bed, not bothering to put the blanket over you. You suddenly heard a notification ding from your phone. Closing your eyes tightly, you swore that if it's Liz you'll run to her house barefoot to yell at her. When you heard another ding, you opened your eyes slowly and reached out for your bedside table.

[Unknown number]

I'm sorry

I was acting like a kid around u I wanted to ask you out but I got too shy

Can I take you to dinner one day?

You bit into your lip harshly, trying so hard to suppress your blush. You thought about it for a second, you weren't mad because she couldn't ask you out in front of you. You couldn't do it either, and you were also flattered to the thought of her being too shy in front of you. It felt as though she was the confident one there. It didn't matter anyways, what mattered is that you wanted to be hers. And if this date is the first step, you'll take it.

[You]

Okay

Only if I can go and watch you play on the quarterfinals

[Elisa ⚽️]

Really??

YES OF COURSE

Only with my jersey 😉

You turned off your phone and banged your head into the pillow, grabbing your phone again to send her a quick message.

[You]

Of course

I'm going to sleep rn

Good night 💞

[Elisa ⚽️]

Good night 😴

You turned off your phone and closed your eyes, immediately sleeping from the exhaustion of the day.

[Elisa⚽️]

The dress looked perfect on you.

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Last Minute - D.Malfoy

Summary - It was only a few days until Christmas and Draco’s girlfriend is still doing some last minute things for gifts. Draco finds her tangled up in yarn and sleep deprived in the library.

Word Count - 916

Warnings - Female reader, period mention, not sleeping, not proofread

Author’s note - Welcome to day 20!! 5 more days and then we are all done with the 25 days of fics! I know this one is later than usual but I had to work and my accelerated winter class started today so I had homework to do. I hope you enjoy!

my masterlist

25 days of fics masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

It was close to Christmas, the clock ticking closer and closer every minute. Every minute she didn’t spend working on her gifts was a minute wasted. She had been awake for over 24 hours, crocheting her gifts by hand rather than with magic. She liked the repetition of the stitches but now she wasn’t so sure about that. She found solace in the library, it was quiet, the fire was crackling, pages were turning, and the smell of old books mixed with a warm fire. It was the perfect atmosphere to get shit done.

She had completely forgotten, however, that she promised Draco that they would go to Hogsmeade together, so when she hadn’t shown, Draco looked for her. He checked her room, checked the common room, checked the great hall but came up with nothing. That was until Theo had told him she was half asleep in the library. So Draco had thanked his friend before making his way to the library, the only place he didn’t think to check. When he had walked in, he saw her on the second floor, going up the stairs only to find her asleep at the table, tangled in yarn. 

“Love, wake up. Let’s go back to the common room,” He instructed as he gently rubbed her back. She jolted awake with a gasp before grabbing Draco’s arm, twisting it painfully. “OW! It’s me! You’re boyfriend!” He shrieked, this caused Madam Pince to make her way up to the second floor and kick out the couple.

“I’m sorry, Dray. I feel terrible, are you okay?” She panicked as they were escorted out of the library after untangling her from her yarn. 

“I’m fine, love, are you? I’ve never seen you so tired,” He asked her concerned. She yawned loudly before turning to her boyfriend to answer.

“I’ve been trying to finish all of my projects for Christmas, I didn’t realize how close it actually was until I was able to sit down and start my list.”

“When was the last time you got some sleep?”

“Well I just-”

“Library doesn’t count.”

“I have no clue then, maybe after our potions exam?”

“That was 2 days ago!” Draco was surprised he hadn’t noticed his girlfriend not sleeping, now that exams were over and break was about to start, he was able to sneak her into the boys dorm more often. He was completely drained the last two days with exams and letters coming from home so he had just been putting himself to bed earlier than usual not thinking about his girl. “When we get back to my room, you are going straight to bed. You can’t go on like this, it’s not good for you.”

“I know but I need to finish this! It’s important that I finish my gifts before Christmas!” She protested but with a stern look from Draco she sighed but agreed to go right off to bed. 

As they entered his room, Theo, Blaise and Mattheo were all gathered around Theo’s bed goofing off and joking around. The three boys turned their heads as the door opened, surprised to see the state of their friend. Her under eyes were a lot darker than normal, her gait was clumsy, her hair messier than normal and her eyes were glassy and heavy. “Salazar, what happened to you?” Mattheo asked her, feigning disgust.

“Fuck off, Riddle. I haven’t slept in nearly two days, my period is coming, I’m hormonal and tired, of course I look rough,” She told the boy off, the group surprised with her attitude but brushed it off.

“Get into some comfy clothes and go to sleep, principessa. Do you want to borrow one of my sweaters?” Theo asked her sweetly.

“No thank you though Theo. I’ll steal another one of Draco’s, but I will steal a pair of pajama pants,” She smiled at her friend before heading to her boyfriend’s trunk, pulling out a warm sweater, nearly missing the pair of flannel pajama pants that were tossed her way and heading to the bathroom. She changed out of her school uniform and into the borrowed clothing, gathering her dirty clothes and headed back to the room. Her boyfriend was already laying on the bed waiting for her.

“Do you need us to go somewhere else? We can go to the common room,” Blaise offered.

“Yes-” Draco started before his girlfriend cut him off.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll probably fall asleep in a few minutes anyway. Chat away, it won’t bother me.”

Draco stuck his tongue out at the trio childishly before opening his arms to his girlfriend who just about collapsed into them. Not even a minute after she had settled herself against his side, her head resting on his chest and listening to his heartbeat, she had fallen asleep. He let out a chuckle seeing how quickly she had fallen asleep as he pulled the covers up over the two of them.

“Is she already asleep?” Mattheo asked.

“Yep, passed right out once she was comfortable,” Draco replied, fondness laced in his tone as he watched his girlfriend sleep peacefully.

“Whipped,” Theo muttered behind a cough.

“I am. But hey, at least I have a significant other, Nott,” Draco shot back, causing a roar of laughter from all of the boys in the room including Theo himself. She hadn’t even stirred at the noise, still just peacefully sleeping in the arms of her boyfriend. She was right where she wanted to be.

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

American Idiot: King!Steve Harrington x Goth!reader.

Summary: Enemies (kinda?)to lovers, opposites attract, early 00s college AU. Steve Harrington had it all. Money, popularity, the perfect girlfriend. He had his whole life planned and laid out for him, and he accepted that. Working for his dad and marrying his collage sweetheart wouldn’t be so bad, right? That’s what he thought at least, until he got paired to do a project with you and you turned his world upside down. WK: 6.1k 18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, steve is still “king Steve” in the beginning, reader kissing someone other than Steve, oral(M&F receiving) unprotected sex(reader is on birth control), lil bit of daddy kink, Steve and reader kiss before he dumps his gf but he does it like right after though, reader smokes a lil weed. I think that’s it? Lmk if I missed any!! My masterlist

A/N: this was born from something I was tagged in where you saved the last character and song you listened to and I got Steve and American idiot and the fact that I have seen so many Eddie opposites attract fics and not enough about Steve with an alt GF. The reader is very much self indulgent for me but I left her description as vague as possible. I think the only thing I mentioned is the shirt she’s wearing and the fact that she’s wearing a skirt. Also I added “Dylan” because I really wanted to make him Eddie but I knew I’d end up involving him too much if he was in it at all lmao. I hope you guys like it!! I’d love feedback so much!✨

You aren’t exactly sure how you let Robin talk you into coming with her to this party but you are deeply regretting it. You were standing in a corner of the packed living room with a red solo cup that you took one sip of and then gagged because whoever made the punch was probably already wasted. Robin was dancing with Vickie, which made you smile. She told you all about how she had the biggest crush on her in highschool and when they both ended up at the same college she took it as a sign and finally made a move.

You glanced around the room and rolled your eyes at what you saw. You really thought by your third year of college the whole “clique” thing would be behind you. But no, for whatever reason the people here still wanted to abide by the conformity of the highschool food chain. You weren’t popular in highschool and you aren’t now, you made friends with Robin your freshman year when you were assigned each other as roommates but you honestly don’t have many other friends.

It’s not like people straight up bullied you like in highschool but the atmosphere was very much the same with the “popular” crowd. They all thought they were better than everyone else. You let your eyes wander to the cluster of people all dressed in the black, white, and green Chicago state colors and scoffed. At the center of it all was the bane of your existence, Steve Harrington.

He thinks the world revolves around him just because everyone in this stupid school kisses his ass. The teachers, all the students, even ROBIN is friends with him. She worked with him the summer before they left for college and she INSISTS that he isn’t actually as big of an asshole as he seems.

Steve Harrington had it all. Perfect car, perfect friends, perfect grades, he was the star of the Chicago state basketball team, and he had the perfect girl. Steve and Veronica had been together since freshman year. They met when he was leaving basketball practice and she was starting cheer practice and the rest was history. Yes Steve Harrington had it all, the perfect American life for the perfect American boy but apparently that wasn’t enough. He needed you too.

It started off when you had been partnered for a project in your English class and you spent some time together working on it. It was all going way more smoothly than you anticipated, you guys were getting along surprisingly well aside from you not being able to hold in your eye rolls and passive aggressive remarks towards him when he said something meat headed. But he would just laugh it off. On the last day of the project things changed drastically. One second you were finalizing your notes and the next thing you knew Steve’s lips were crashing into yours. You were so confused at first, frozen in place.

Then after a second you pushed him off “What the fuck are you doing Steve?? Is this some kind of joke to you? I think I’ve made it pretty fucking clear that I’m only toleranting you for this grade so I don’t understand where your wires got crossed thinking you could just kiss me?” He stared at you wide eyed before catching himself and scoffing “what? Don’t act like you didn’t want it, I could see how you were looking at me.” he gave you a smug look. “This is exactly why I didn’t want it, you ever thought not every single person wants to worship the ground you walk on? Has no one ever rejected you in your life? Get over yourself Harrington, I’ll see you tomorrow for the presentation” you grabbed your notes and swiftly exited the library after that.

That was two months ago, and since then Steve couldn’t let it go. You weren’t wrong, no one had ever rejected him and you continued to over and over again every time he would try and talk to you or approach you in any way and it was doing things to him. It kind of felt amazing, you couldn’t lie. The golden boy chasing after you like a little lost puppy. Especially since you were very much his opposite. You weren’t anywhere near rich, your car was an old piece of shit, and you definitely weren’t preppy in any sense of the word. So yeah, Steve Harrington pining after the quiet goth girl was kind of giving you an ego boost.

You watched him shotgun a beer while everyone around him cheered him on, tossing the can on the ground when he was done. He must’ve felt you looking at him because his eyes locked with yours and he smirked. As you were rolling your eyes Veronica’s arms shot around his neck and she started sloppily making out with him right there in front of everyone. It was honestly pretty gross to watch, you felt like you could hear their tongues and lips smacking from across the room, it made you want to gag.

Just as you were turning to head outside for a smoke break you felt a hand on your arm. When you looked up your breath hitched, because god damn this man was beautiful. It was like he was crafted with Peter Steele from Type O Negative in mind when they made him. “Hey, I like your shirt” he smiled sweetly at you. Suddenly you couldn’t remember your own name let alone what shirt you were wearing so you looked down and saw your Deftones baby tee before you looked back up at him and smiled “oh, thank you. I like yours too!” You pointed to his Korn shirt “their self titled album will always be one of my favorites of all time” he sent you another sweet smile “hell yeah, me too. I’m Dylan.” He held his hand out for you to shake and you took his much larger hand in yours and shook it for maybe a second too long before telling him your name.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl” you suddenly felt a little shy, it’s been a while since anyone (besides Steve, unfortunately) had really given you the time of day and this beautiful goth rock god just started chatting you up so you were a little nervous “do you smoke?” He pulled a joint out from behind his ear, offering it to you. “Yeah, totally, I’m down.” You tried your best to sound nonchalant but you were screaming inside. You decided right then that if this man wanted to take you home? You were fucking going.

You guys passed the joint back and forth and chatted for a bit, he was really cool, you had a lot in common and you enjoyed talking to him. When the joint was almost gone he held it up to you and raised his eyebrows “shotgun??” You bit your lip and nodded. He took the last large pull off the joint before cupping your cheek in his hand and leaning forward to let the smoke into your mouth. You inhaled and let a giggle out on the exhale, his face was still so close to yours, he smelled really good, and the weed was giving you confidence so you grabbed him by his shirt collar and brought his lips back to yours. His hands went to your hips as he kissed back passionately, pushing you up against the wall and deepening the kiss.

You guys had just started really making out, his knee pushed in between your legs under your skirt, his hand groping your chest over the shirt and your fingers tangled in his hair, not even caring that you’re in the middle of a packed party. Then he was suddenly ripped off of you. “What the!?” You opened your eyes in confusion and were met with Steve, shoving Dylan away from you “can we talk??” You scoffed “are you fucking serious right now Steve? I’m obviously busy, so you can get lost now. Dylan? Let’s go.” You started to walk past him but he grabbed your wrist “I want to talk to you. Alone. Please?” His demor changed by the end of the sentence and you saw a softness in his eyes you’d only ever seen a few times when you worked together on your project “Dude. She literally said she was busy, why don’t you just back off?” Dylan came over and stood next to you again glaring at Steve.

“Okay?? And I said I want to talk to her so you can get fucking lost before I make you” Steve got in Dylan’s face and basically growled at him before he shoved him against the wall and grabbed your arm, dragging you through the party and into one of the empty rooms and shutting the door behind you. You ripped your arm out of his grasp “What the fuck do you want Harrington!? You are being a serious cock block!! Did you SEE him?? I could slap you right now!”

“I didn’t like it. Seeing him kissing you like that when I want to be the one kissing you like that! I honestly couldn’t fucking stand it!!” He ran his hands through his hair and dragged them down his face in frustration.

“Okay Steve, I don’t know what your sudden fucking obsession with me is. If you’re just trying to prove a point to yourself that you can have any girl or if this is some kind of bet you have going with your stupid fucking friends but it has GOT to stop!! This is TOO FAR!! You’re keeping me from getting dicked down now and for what? Just let it go, you better hope he’s still out there or I’m going to track you back down and murder you!!” you go to walk past him and leave the room but he grabs your hand, making you turn to face him.

When you look at him you see that same look you saw a few minutes ago, the normally smug look on his face replaced with something softer. “Wait, please? Please just hear me out and then I’ll never bother you again.” You ripped your hand from his grasp and rolled your eyes. “Oh my god. Okay, you have two minutes, that’s it.”

He sighed deeply “Okay. I’m sorry, I know I’ve been bugging you a little-“

“PFT!! A little?” You rolled your eyes again, you honestly think if you have to talk to him much longer they’re going to get stuck in the back of your head.

“Oh my god. Can you just let me talk without interrupting me for two seconds?”

“Okay, yeah, sorry. Continue”

“Anyways… I know I’ve been bothering you a lot since we finished our project… and it’s not just because you rejected me, yeah that didn’t help, it just made me want you more but I wanted you before that. When we were working on our project together I just.. I started to fall for you. You were just so real compared to everyone around me. You made me feel like a person, you didn’t treat me like ‘king Steve’ or just do things how you thought I’d want you to. You told me like it is, and that was so refreshing to me.” He let out the deep breath he felt had been holding since you were still working together and waited for you to respond.

But you didn’t right away, you just stared at him with wide eyes stunned at his confession. “Please… say something, anything.” He gave you that pleading puppy dog look again.

“I… Steve you don’t mean that. You have everything. You’re popular, rich, you’re the star of the basketball team, you probably have some fancy office job lined up with your dad for after you graduate, and you have Veronica. I definitely don’t fit into that equation in the slightest.” You looked at him confused, searching for any kind of explanation that would make this make sense.

“Okay? Yeah I have all those things but I don’t WANT them. Most of those things are what my parents want for me, what my DAD wants. Basketball is fine, I’m good at it so it’s cool I guess, but did I really want to spend all these years just doing that? Not necessarily. And yeah if I work for my dad’s company I’ll be financially stable for the rest of my life but is that what I want to spend my life doing? No, it’s not. And Veronica? We may seem perfect to you but we aren’t. We fight all the fucking time and she’s honestly only with me because of who I am, because I’m king Steve. She doesn’t love ME, she loves the basketball star, she loves daddy’s money, she loves the extravagant wedding, white picket fence, and 2.5 children that we don’t know how to love because no one ever showed us so we just fill that void by showering them with material things. I had that life growing up, and I hated it. But you? You’re different. You’re free. You don’t care what anyone thinks and if you do, you don’t let it change who you are. You’re true to yourself, you don’t treat me like I’m some kind of god, you treat me like a person. THAT'S why I want you.” He took a step closer to you and grabbed your hands, ducking down so you’re forced to look him in the eyes “also you’re so beautiful, like so beautiful I feel like I can’t even breathe when I look at you.”

You looked into his eyes, searching for any kind of falsehood in his words but you didn’t find any. Instead he was looking at you adoring, hopeful. “Steve, I…” you didn’t really know what to say, you had never really entertained the idea that he might actually like you. You didn’t want to even have an ounce of hope in that aspect, because of course you thought Steve was hot. You also couldn’t deny that you did sort of like the side of him you saw during your project, and you liked what you saw now. Maybe you liked HIM and you didn’t even realize it. Maybe you did see the real Steve and maybe you liked that person. Before you could truly think about it you put your arms around his neck and pulled his lips to yours.

You had never had a kiss like this one, Steve’s lips were so soft, and he brought his hands to your face and cradled it like you were something precious. You got lost in the kiss for a moment but soon pulled away from him entirely, bringing your hand to your mouth and staring at him wide eyed “we shouldn’t… we shouldn’t have done that. This is a bad idea. I have to go find Robin.” You turned to leave and once again you were stopped by his hand in yours. “I honestly think this is the only good idea I’ve ever had actually” is all he said before putting his hands around your waist and pulling you into another kiss. Rationally you knew you should pull away, but your heart and body had other ideas.

Suddenly you absolutely needed him to touch you, anywhere and everywhere. You wrapped your arms around his neck and licked into his mouth, deepening the kiss. You went on standing there making out until you were both pulling away breathless “Fuck. You are so amazing.” He pushed some of your hair that fell in your face over your shoulder and left a soft kiss on your jaw. You tried to hold in the little whimper that escaped, but you couldn’t and just hoped Steve didn’t hear it. But he did, and he looked into your eyes again and gave you a mischievous smile before ducking his head to place more little kisses along your jaw.

You let out more little breathy whines and it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. You grabbed his face, pulling it from your neck so he would look at you “I think… since you DID totally ruin what I had going with that guy out there, you kind of owe me now” you smirked at him and bit your lip.

“Yeah? You want me to make it up to you baby? Bet I can make you feel better than he ever could.” He ran his hands down your shoulders and around your back, sliding them down until he had two handfuls of your ass, your skirt riding up. “Yeah? I bet I fuck way better than Veronica. What’s she into? Missionary and reluctant blow jobs? Girls like that never like giving head” you smirked at him, not even feeling bad for shit talking his girlfriend. She didn’t deserve him anyways, Steve was yours now, you weren’t giving him back after this.

You were more spot on then Steve liked to admit but he can’t deny hearing you say those things was doing something for him. “Yeah? You like doing it then? You wanna get on your knees for me, pretty girl? Is that what you’re saying?” That’s exactly what you were saying, so instead of responding you dropped to your knees and looked up at him through your lashes while you reached for the button on his jeans, pausing before actually unbuttoning them “I’m going to give you the best blow job and fuck of your life, but only on ONE CONDITION”

“Okay, anything, whatever you want honey, it’s yours.” The nickname sent chills down your spine, you wanted to hear him call you every pet name under the sun. “You’re gonna go out there, and you’re gonna fucking DUMP Veronica, and then when you come back to me, I’m going to blow your mind Steve Harrington.” You stood up from the ground and booped his nose “Can you do that? Or were you bluffing when you said ‘anything?”

He meant it. He would quite literally do anything for you, not only in this moment but just in general. “Okay, I’ll do it.” Was all he said before he walked out the bedroom door, closing it behind him. You stood there stunned for a moment, mouth hanging open, staring at the closed door. You couldn’t believe that actually worked, Steve Harrington was about to throw away his “picture perfect” life for YOU of all people. If he even wanted to be seen with you. If he even did it, if he even came back.. His friends would never approve... God, his PARENTS would never approve of you. Before you could start to fully spiral you heard yelling coming from the other room.

“YOU CANNOT BE FUCKING SERIOUS!!!!?? THIS IS A JOKE RIGHT!!???” Veronica. You walked closer to the door to try and get a better listen but all you could hear after that were jumbled voices. So you decided fuck it, and walked out of the room into the crowded living area. Except people weren’t partying like they were before, pretty much everyone was silent, gawking at the couple they all thought were perfect. When you pushed through some of the bodies and were able to see them your breath caught in your throat. Veronica looked fucking pissed, she had her hands balled into fists and she stomped her foot on the ground several times like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“What the fuck are you talking about THERES SOMEONE ELSE!? Are you serious right now? Who is she? Some other bitch on the cheer team? Swim team?” She scoffs and then makes a gagging noise “oh god, is she in the DRAMA club? Or some nerdy girl you tricked into doing your homework since you can’t do it for yourself?” That last comment had you seathing, giving you insight into how she probably talks to him all the time.

“God Veronica, can you be any more shallow? Not everything is about popularity or some fucking club. We aren’t in highschool anymore, grow up.” You looked over at Steve who honestly looked like he would rather be doing anything but having this conversation right now. “That’s rich, coming from you, KING STEVE!!! Since when do you not care about all those things? I thought that was our whole thing?” She let out a dry laugh “you think anyone else really wants to deal with you? I only dealt with you because of all the perks that came with having a life with you. You think I actually loved you? You think anyone will really love you and your pathetic, whiny, daddy issues bullshit??” Steve looked stunned, he knew she felt that way but hearing it coming out of her mouth hurt a little. He never really loved her but there was a point when he did at least actually like her.

You couldn’t take it, between what she said to him and the look on his face you snapped. You walked over there without even caring about the consequences and got directly in her face. “You’re. Wrong.” You snarled at her.

“Excuse me, what? And what the fuck does it matter to you, mistress of the dark??” She looked you up and down with disgust.

“It matters a whole lot to me actually, because I DO like Steve. I don’t give a fuck about his popularity, or basketball, or how much money he has. I don’t need any of those things because he’s so much more than that!” You thought back to when you worked on the project together, at the time you hadn’t really allowed yourself to notice how different Steve was with you but he was. He told dumb jokes, he smiled sweetly at you and fumbled over his words. When you would tell him like it was, or act annoyed by him he didn’t say anything, just took it. You guys would talk sometimes for an hour or more after you had already finished working, and In that moment you realized that he let you see parts of him he probably didn’t show to anyone, you were just too dumb to see it. “He’s funny, like the stupid kind of dad funny that’s kind of embarrassing but down right endearing at its core. He’s sweet, caring, and listens to me when I talk. He’s not stupid, he’s incredibly smart. You just never took the time to see him and you’re the biggest fucking idiot for it!!” You didn’t move, stayed directly in her face, staring into her eyes daring her to do something.

Her eyes widened and then slanted into a glare “HA!!! Oh my god!!! You’re dumping me for this freak!? You’re even more of a joke than I thought Harrington! Talk about a downgrade, you really think your parents would ever approve of HER? Your dad would cut you off as soon as he saw her, your mom would-“

“THAT'S ENOUGH!!! Just SHUT. UP. For once in your fucking life Veronica stop talking! Don’t talk to her like that, you don’t know anything about her. Or me for that matter. Stay the fuck away from us.” Steve grabbed your hand and started dragging you away towards the front door “come on baby, we are leaving” you let him drag you to the door but before you walked out you turned around and flipped Veronica off “I win, you lose! Dumb bitch!” You stuck her tongue out at her and started cracking up at her stunned face on the way out.

•

Steve took you back to his apartment, your immediate reaction was to feel uncomfortable because of course even his apartment was way nicer than yours. But before you could even really get a look around he was on you. Kissing you in a way that made you feel like you were going to melt into a puddle on his carpet. You pulled away from him and smirked at him before dropping down on your knees in front of him and he felt himself starting to get hard instantly. “I believe I promised you the best blow job of your life, did I not?”

He reached down and caressed your cheek “Yeah you did pretty girl, but honestly you don’t have to, we can just watch a movie or cuddle or something. I wanna do this right with you. I don’t want you to think that’s all I want, ya know?”

“Hey Steve?” You smiled up at him sweetly “yeah sweetie?” You reached for the button on his jeans and popped it open before pulling his zipper down, placing a gentle kiss on the small sliver of skin exposed where his shirt rode up “Stop talking. I want to, I like doing it. If I’m being honest I wanna suck your cock so so bad Stevie” he groaned at that “fuck, yeah, okay baby. Whatever you want.” You smiled at him triumphantly before grabbing his pants and boxers and pulling them down in one swift motion.

His cock sprang out and you forgot how to talk for a moment because holy shit it was the biggest and most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen. “Wow…” was all you could manage, spitting on your hand and wrapping your hand around his girth, giving him a few strokes before leaning up to kitten lick the salty precum from his tip. “Oh shiiit that feels so good” you gave him a few more licks before abruptly taking as much of him as you could at once. He involuntarily jerked forward sending his cock further down your throat, causing you to gag before he pulled back “oh shit, I’m so sorry”

“Don’t be, I like it” you said before you took him back down your throat as far as you could, causing yourself to gag again before pulling back and repeating the action causing spit to drip down your chin and all over Steve’s cock. Steve was a mess, he was making whining sounds he’s never heard from himself and he seriously needed you to stop soon or he was going to bust before he even got to fuck you.

You pulled off and looked up at him “I want you to fuck my face, daddy” that was it, he was obsessed with you. “Oh god, I want that too baby girl but I will seriously cum if I do that right now and I really really want to fuck you.” He pulled his pants up before pulling you up on your feet grabbing your hand and walking towards the bedroom. He closed the door behind him and turned to place a gentle kiss on your lips when he pulled back you pulled your shirt over your head and his eyes nearly popped out when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra “holy shit honey… these are the best fucking tits I’ve ever seen” he grabbed them in his large hands, squeezing them before he leaned down to take an already hardened nipple in his mouth. “Mmm daddy, your mouth feels so good.” He groaned at the sound of you calling him daddy again. He’s always wanted a girl to call him that, it’s just no one he’s been with has been into it and you calling him that in your own accord was making him crazy.

“I know where it’ll feel even better.” He said before pushing you back until you were laying on his mattress with your legs hanging off. You propped yourself up on your hands so you could look at him. “God, you are so fucking gorgeous I’m not sure how you’re real. Sitting all pretty on my bed with those beautiful tits out. I can’t wait to see the rest of you” He pulled his shirt over his head and you didn’t even have time to properly ogle him before he got down on his knees in front of the bed and ran his hands up your legs until he was at the bottom of your skirt. He looked to you for permission, and you nodded excitedly. That was all he needed before he was pushing the front of your skirt up to reveal your red lace thong that had a very obvious wet patch.

“Look at these pretty little panties… too bad they have to go.” He looped his fingers in the band and ripped them off, throwing them over his shoulder. “This pussys is waaaay prettier than those panties anyways, god damn.” He started kissing your calves and the inside of your knees, leaving soft kisses and little bites as he made his way up to your thighs. He bit into the meat of your thigh before soothing it with his tongue and repeating the action on the other side. He left little kisses and licks down your inner thighs until he reached the spot you wanted him most. He kissed the top of your mound and then held his mouth over your clit for a minute letting his breath hit you while he looked you in the eyes “I’m going to fucking devour you”

He licked a stripe all the way up your entrance and to your clit, circling it a few times before sucking on it. Your hands reached down and tangled in his hair and your back arched immediately. “Jesus Christ Steve, your mouth feels so fucking good.” You whined.

He unlatched from your clit to look up at you “Steve? There’s no Steve here right now, only daddy.” You outright moaned at that and he smirked, circling a finger around your entrance before pushing it inside you. “Fuuuck daddy, that feels so fucking good. Put your mouth back on me, please?” You looked down at him with big round eyes and he felt like he was actually going to cum in his pants this time. His tongue started circling and sucking on your sensitive clit, he slid a second finger inside you and that was it for you.

You came so hard, probably the hardest you’ve ever cum in your life. Your grip on his hair tightened and you rocked your hips against his face “oh f-fuckkkk fuck, holy shit.” You pushed his face away “s-sensitive, come here” you reached your arms out for him and he put his arms on either side of your head, looking down at you adoringly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a heated kiss, groaning when you tasted yourself on his tongue. “Please please fuck me now, I want you so bad” you couldn’t even believe you thought you hated him just a few hours ago and now you were laying under him begging for his cock. He stood up and took his still unbuttoned pants off, now standing completely naked before you.

“God damn.. you are so fucking HOT holy shiiiiit, get over here and fuck me right now.” You pulled your skirt off and scooted up to the head of his bed and spread your legs wide open “how do you want me, daddy?” You giggled a little, feeling high on him. “Fuck, baby, will you ride me?” He walked over to the side of the bed and looked at your naked form, biting his lip. You grabbed his wrists pulling him down on the bed, pushing him on his back and climbing on top of him. You ground down on his dick, sliding your pussy easily up and down his length with your wetness. “Condom?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you. “I’m on the pill, I wanna feel you, I want you to fill me up.” His eyes rolled in the back of his head “oh goddd, fuck. Yeah? You want me to fuck you full of my cum?” You didn’t even answer, just raised yourself up so you could line his cock up with your entrance and began to sink down on it.

“Holy fuuuck baby, that feels so good.” You were still holding his cock, sliding the head in and out of you slowly adding more of him inside you with each thrust until he was fully inside you and you could feel his hair at the base rubbing against your clit. You just sat there for a second, adjusting to his size. “Oh shit, you are so fucking tight oh my god.” You move back and forth, just the slightest rock of your hips. “Fuck daddy, you’re so big. I feel so full.” You whimpered. You raised up until you reached the head of his cock and then slammed back down out of nowhere and he let out a moan that you wanted to record and use as your fucking alarm clock. That egged you on, you started riding him hard and fast after that, sitting up fully with your hands on his chest to stabilize you. His hands were on your hips, head thrown back, he felt like all he could do was moan. He was pretty sure you were sucking his soul out of his dick and he had never felt this good in his entire life.

“Jesus Christ, you are such a good girl. You look so fucking beautiful riding my cock.” He moved his hands to your ass and slammed up into you, quite literally fucking the shit out of you. He moved his thumb up to your lips “Suck.” You took it in your mouth and swirled your tongue around it a few times before he pulled it out with a ‘pop!’ And brought it to your clit. Rubbing tight slow circles on the bud. “F-fuck, I’m g-gonna I’m gonna cum” he started fucking you faster, the circles on your clit got quicker “cum for me, cum on my cock like a good girl” your orgasm hit you hard, falling forward on Steve’s chest, letting out loud moans and pulling on his hair. That combined with the feeling of you clenching around him had Steve cumming right after you, filling you up just as promised. “Holy shit, holy fuck, I’m fucking cumming! God baby you feel so fucking good!”

You both just laid there for a moment, catching your breath and coming back into your bodies. You placed a soft kiss on his chest and sat up to look at him. “Wow Stevie. That was amazing, seriously.” He gave you a huge smile “Yeah it was. Holy shit. I’m obsessed with you.” You sent him a shy smile and tried to hide your face on your shoulder but he put his hand on your chin and made you look at him “Hey” he said your name softly “I mean it, I really fucking like you. I really do think you’re beautiful, you literally ruined me for any other woman ever. I’ve never met anyone like you. I’d really like to take you on a real date, like you deserve. If you’ll let me.” He gave you the most bashful adorable smile ever but you couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped you “Steve. You’re literally still inside me right now and you think I don’t want to go on a date with you?” He shrugged and chuckled, “I just wanted to make sure, I didn’t want to assume anything, ya know?”

You rolled off of him to lay next to him, resting your chin on his chest. “Of course I want to go on a date with you silly. It took me a minute to realize it, but I think I’m kind of obsessed with you too, Steve Harrington.” You tilted your head up to kiss him, soft and sweet, different from all the other kisses. “I just hope I didn’t ruin everything for you. I feel like you threw everything away for me.” You sighed and looked down at his chest, running your fingers through the hair there. He said your name more sternly than you were expecting “Look at me.” You looked up into his eyes and suddenly felt extremely shy under his intense gaze. “You didn’t ruin anything, you made everything better, you saved me from a life I was miserable in. I’ve never been more happy than I am at this moment. I don’t give a fuck what my so called “friends” or my parents think anymore. I did it for you, of course, but also for the first time in my life I did something for myself too. I’m not sure what exactly my life is going to look like now, but I know if you’re in it, it’s going to be beautiful.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes at that, no one had ever said anything like the things Steve had said to you tonight. He kept talking so much about how you see him that you didn’t even realize how much he saw you too. “I think so too Stevie.” He saw you and you saw him, and the rest you would figure out together.

[mysticode54]

ICO's Japanese Manual Translated Into English

Earlier this year, I began the task of translating the Japanese Manual for ICO which, to my knowledge, no one has attempted before. I covered pages 4 through 22 of the original PS2 manual and blocked the text appropriately to match the original manual's structure. Ideally, you should be able to line it up against the real manual and know which paragraphs provide what information. When I last touched this project, I wasn't wholly satisfied with the presentation but I have to accept that I was being a bit too ambitious about it. I certainly didn't have the energy to fill all the gaps with recreations of the original manual sketches, like I initially wanted. Here is my transcript of the original Japanese text (alongside transcripts of the English manuals): https://icoshrine.neocities.org/manual_transcripts#Japan%20PS2 The goal of my translation was to remain as faithful to the original wording as possible, changing things only for the sake of clarity, and the flow of the sentences. I acknowledge my translation is subject to critique. I am a novice when it comes to Japanese translation, though I did my best, revised the draft several times, and consulted someone more experienced with the language for feedback. Beneath the cut are some personal thoughts and theories regarding the various versions of this game manual.

Those paying attention to ICO's lore might notice there are some stark differences to how the Japanese manual and English manuals (both NTSC-U and PAL) present the story. The English manuals give us many additional details about the people of Ico's village and the nature of his curse:

"Ico's nightmare started the day he drew his first breath. In his village, the birth of a normal child is a source of happiness and relief. Proud fathers show off their new offspring, reassuring themselves and others that this time, the curse has not left its mark. But some births bring suspicion and fear. Once in every generation, the curse arrives with the birth of a special child born with tiny horns jutting from his head. With word of a cursed birth, fear leaps from person to person like a plague. The whole village settles into a state of quiet, suspicious panic. Any misfortune that befalls the village is blamed on the child with horns. If a crop fails or an illness strikes, he is blamed. Everyone wishes for the day of the sacrifice and the return to good fortune." - Page 5, ICO NTSC-U Manual

The Japanese manual, meanwhile, speaks as little on the matter as possible:

"Ico had horns.  Ico was the only one in the village with horns. When a child is born with horns, it is the tradition of the village to offer the child as a human sacrifice to a vacant Castle that towers over the sea. This year, Ico was to be brought to that Castle." - Page 4, ICO Japanese Manual

The narrative has been put into such succinct terms that no details about the village, or Ico's parents, can really be extrapolated. It doesn't even mention that horned children are born once every generation, which I thought to be a critical factor of ICO's worldbuilding. This manual also keeps quiet about Yorda's name, only indirectly mentions The Queen, and doesn't provide any insight into either of their powers. It treats these elements as reveals you should uncover yourself as you work through the game. As opposed to the English manuals which fill you in on everything, leaving little to no surprise aside from the final stretch of the game. Another minor alteration: Ico is labelled as 13, rather than 12. I doubt that was a mistake however, because we can see from the credits of this manual that Kei Kuwabara (桑原 慶) was responsible for the text (文). Kuwabara was a Planner for the game (alongside Junichi Hosono and Tsutomu Kouno), and he's come to be known as the man primarily responsible for creating the hieroglyphs that make up Yorda's Runic Language. ----- This manual was written by a member of Team ICO itself, so why does it differ so much from the English manuals? Who actually wrote the English manuals? I have a theory regarding this: The English manuals may have been based upon an old game design pitch document, produced and sent to Sony around the time of game's transition from PS1 to PS2. I believe this because both English manuals make reference to a confrontation at the East and West Arenas (collectively referred to as "Symmetry" in the manuals) that never plays out in the final game.

"Symmetry is really two sides of the same riddle, one left and one right. You will confront the other side later in your quest. [...] Take great care in this place, for another cage awaits, and a hidden enemy is about to reveal herself." - Page 19, ICO PAL Manual

"Symmetry is really two sides of the same riddle, one left and one right. Ico will confront the other side later. [...] Another cage awaits and the Queen prepares to take a personal role in stopping the escape." - Page 26, ICO NTSC-U Manual

In the early PS2 storyboards for ICO, there were two scenes of The Queen intervening at East and West Arena. These cutscenes were part of ICO's original script, which was reduced significantly at some point during development, likely before January 2001. So why would these concepts be found in the manuals if they were cut at least a year before publishing? How did this happen? We know for a fact that Team ICO released the game to North America first, albeit in a state they weren't satisfied with. It was clear they had been pressured by the American market to release the game far sooner than they wanted. During the months of July, August, and September 2001, they were likely putting their all into finalizing the version of the game that would ship overseas. This left them no time to handle the packaging themselves, so they left it to Sony, who in turn hired Beeline to design the game's US box art and manual. Reflecting on this, I don't think its a stretch to suggest that Sony was also left with the responsibility of what text to provide Beeline for the US manual. But, seeing as they did not know ICO as well as the team creating it, Sony picked up an old pitch document made by that team, translated it to English, and handed it off to Beeline for printing. This would explain a few things.

The wordiness of the US manual's backstory would be a reflection of the original script's wordiness and willingness to hint at lore that the final game would leave to the imagination.

Ico's age would change from 12 to 13 over the course of development, as a minor tweak the developers decided on after their initial pitch.

The detailed descriptions of enemies in the English manuals give misleading information, including the claim that Shadow Sentries can create 'protective shields' around themselves. In the final game, they functionally accomplish this by ducking under attacks, but there's no indication of visible force fields. Thus, this could be another scrapped concept.

When localizing for the PAL region, I imagine Sony either handed the same Japanese pitch document over to be re-translated, or the PAL packaging team decided to copy the text of the US manual while changing the wording. TL;DR: The English manuals may actually be based on an older iteration of the game's storyline. All extra information gained from English manuals were likely not meant to be revealed to players. Whether you consider this information "canonical" is up to you. The Japanese manual seems to be the only one written around the time of the game's (December 6th) publishing, and is what Team ICO likely wanted to present to players of the game.

[unmanageable-day]

Time with you

inspo : Kyuhyun - Time with you

pairing: best friend!Scoups x female reader

genre: angsty almost friends to lovers, unrequited love aka friendzoned :(

word count: 2k-ish

warning(s): drinking alcohol (and maybe none other than that)

a/n: not really grammatically checked. i’m just emptying my drafts lmao this has been in my draft for a very long time. would greatly appreciate your feedback and thoughts! :-) also, the gif credit to the rightful owner (@ scoupsy)

It was another night when you and your best friend, Choi Seungcheol drank your lives away while going through the so-called quarter-life crisis. You with the story of ‘almost’ for the nth time. Almost getting promotion in your job, almost dating with guy A, almost being match-made with guy B, almost picking up a fight with a coworker (which means almost losing your job), and the most recent ‘almost’ was you almost getting back together with an ex who you didn’t like that much. Seungcheol and his much higher alcohol tolerance had drank more bottles than you. He just broke up after five years of relationship, and he couldn’t even cry his eyes out. Not to mention, he just lost a sponsorship for his new project. Isn’t it a perfect night for these best friends to abuse their livers?

“I say let’s just get married if by 30 years old we don’t have a significant other,” he said, his eyes were looking anywhere but you.

You chuckled. “You’re drunk, honey.” He didn’t sound serious or sincere to you, at least now after he sipped three shots in a row.

Both of you were turning 26. Old enough to get married, some people would say. You never gave it a deep thought, especially since most of your friends hadn’t gotten married either. They were either too enjoying their lives, too busy with their jobs, not wanting to be in a committed relationship yet, or they just want to go solo. Let’s be honest, having that one person to spend with for the rest of your life doesn’t always mean a happily ever after ending. On the other hand, you know being married and raising a small family with children is one of Choi Seungcheol’s dreams. You would absolutely be happy for him if it came true any sooner.

He chuckled while pouring beer and soju mix. “I know, but I think I’m sober enough to discuss this thing. What do you say?”

“Even if I agree and say yes right now, you will probably not remember anything tomorrow.”

“Hey, I said I’m sober enough,“ he scoffed as he raised his glass. “Y/N let me tell you, I might look unserious like this, but you have no idea I have tons of husband material.”

“Well, okay I guess, if you want to be my husband that much..” you shrugged, still laughing lightly at the nonsense you two were having that night. And finally Seungcheol knocked himself out that you had to call Jeonghan and Mingyu to pick him up.

The next day, Seungcheol insisted he did remember almost everything he said last night. You still didn’t think of it seriously, so you just responded with a quick ‘yeah’, ‘right’, and ‘okay’. Meanwhile he wanted to have proper documentation about your “agreement”. As you thought it was ridiculous, you just gave him a pinky swear and you excused yourself to go to a company dinner.

---

27th birthday

There was nothing special. Both you and your dear friend were single, and in fact, enjoyed going solo. Your circle of friends tried again to make you go to blind dates. You did, just for a little appreciation to your friends, although you knew it’s just not going to happen. Same thing with Seungcheol’s friend who always offered him to introduce some juniors from their college or school. This time, Seungcheol always refused. Not ready to build rapport and start a new relationship would be his number one excuse, which would always be understood by others.

28th birthday

Your friends started to cheer that you and Seungcheol should end your friendship and begin a real romantic relationship because you two were always seen together.

“Are you nuts?” You chuckled and pretended to give a disgusted expression to him.

“Don’t come to me when it’s apocalypse and I’m the only man left,” he hissed.

29th birthday --- Seungcheol’s POV

Lately I had been feeling anxious and I can’t comprehend what was wrong. But isn’t it normal for people to be anxious when they’re about to end their 20s? Or is it just me who had been denial about this real, like real, adulting phase?

Without realizing it, I often found myself imagining what the future would be like if it is with you; what would it be like to spend the rest of my life with you. I remember the times we walked together. Well, many times. But when did you become such a precious person to me?

The picture of us being together for a lifetime was getting clearer. Somehow I became so sure about it. That’s when I know, I want to live as your significant other. I want to live with you who never stop nagging but I won’t complain. Even when you’re a worse picky-eater than me, more suck at doing house chores and cooking, disorganized, and sometimes talk in your sleep, but I think I can live with that.

I had never so anxious and thrilled at the same time on my birthday in the past 3 years. I didn’t know why I had to wait until it was our 30th birthday.

A few days to 30th birthday

Seungcheol had been walking around back and forth in his studio for minutes. Once in a while, he looked at the calendar and a ring with flower diamond accent sitting on a personalized leather ring box he put on his desk. He just turned 30 last month and Jeonghan, without being asked, held a birthday party for him. This month you would be turning 30 and he already marked it in his calendar with a lot of drawing.

It was counting days until your birthday. As far as he could remember, not even once you or anybody else had said a word about you seeing someone. He was certain of it. This is it.

He quickly went through a list of restaurants to make a reservation on that Friday night. Let’s not go overboard, he thought to himself as he passed some fine dining restaurants from the list. His final choice was a new sushi restaurant. Okay, it’s not anything fancy, he reassured himself. He didn’t want to make it obvious although he couldn’t hide his excitement and his racing heart.

Just as the sun had set, Seungcheol dialed your number. Unusually, you picked up in less than five seconds.

“Y/n, hi! I’ve got something to tell you!”

“Me too!”

“Great! Let’s meet up?”

After hanging up the phone call, with his dreamy eyes, Seungcheol stared at the ring he chose carefully. Right, I’m gonna do it today! In front of a big mirror, he spent a good amount of time just to pick an outfit that he usually wears.

He arrived first at the restaurant and took his time to practice breathing slowly. As soon as he received your text that you were coming soon, he became restless. The lines he had been practicing in his head now started to blur. Please don't ruin it, he begged to himself.

“Hey. You sound very excited on the phone. Did something good happen?” Trying to manage his cool, he welcomed you and poured a glass of water.

Smiling ear to ear, you nodded vigorously. Seungcheol softly smiled looking at you.

Without words, you lifted your hand, exposing the back of your hand, all your fingers lightly wriggling. For a second, Seungcheol didn’t notice what you were trying to say. Until he remembered that you didn’t like to wear accessories and jewelry with too much accents standing out, including a diamond or even gemstone with bright colors. Yet a silver ring with a cat’s eye gemstone now was stuck prettily around your left ring finger.

Seungcheol forced an innocent smile at you. He shook his head a few times, pretending not to understand anything. Deep down inside, he wished it was not what he was thinking. He wished it was just another piece of jewelry you bought for yourself.

“I’m getting married! Jisoo proposed to me last night!” you squealed as quietly as possible.

“Jisoo.. which Jisoo?” he asked weakly after clearing his throat several times.

“It’s Hong Jisoo! You didn't forget him already, did you?” Your eyes widened and blinked twice. “It’s Jeonghan’s friend. He even came to your birthday party. You even hung out together, the three of you.”

He groggily faked a laugh. “Oh, we did?” He stole a glance at you who were staring lovingly at the new ring. “... am I too late?” he whispered to himself, his hand clenching the suede box hidden in his pocket.

“Hm? What is it that’s too late?” you asked, completely oblivious.

A fake cough slipped out of his mouth. He wore his famous sulky expression. “No, I mean... isn’t it too late that you just told me now? You should have called me last night.” Seungcheol knew sulking was one of his famous traits. And this time, it helped so much to hide his true feelings.

“Wait. But… how did you… since when did you and he…” Seungcheol found himself unable to finish his sentence. It’s not like he really wanted to know or anything. He was too dumbfounded to figure out that after all this time, it was only him who had been thinking about the future of you both. Apparently it was just a one-sided excitement that only he felt.

“Sorry,” you muttered slowly. “You must have thought that this doesn’t make any sense.” You tried to read his expression. Seeing him gulping his water, you did the same before telling your story.

You carefully told him that it started last year, specifically on the new years’ eve when Jeonghan held a party in his house. Seungcheol was there too. What he didn’t know was that you and Jisoo spent some time together after losing a game, which led to going to a convenience mart just to buy candies because Jeonghan suddenly wanted it. You found him very easy going despite his serious and quiet look. Not to mention when he lost it in games with Jeonghan, he became somebody else–and you liked it. He didn’t seem pretentious. He was even never trying hard to look good despite he had that gentleman image. It was interesting to see such different personalities in one person.

You didn’t want to think about him seriously as a romantic relationship was not your priority that time. Jisoo probably thought alike, since he never really made a bold move. Yet you two would always find time, or rather time (and Jeonghan) was in favor of getting you together. Nonetheless, both of you still never declared anything. It started like a situationship, you would say.

Until one day, he wanted to make sure that you both shared the same feelings. Since then, Jisoo and you started to discuss your plan for the future. But again, your relationship hadn’t gone public.

“We didn’t tell anyone until we were sure of ourselves and our plans,” you concluded. “I’m really sorry, Seungcheol. I never meant to keep a secret from you, especially when it comes to something big like this.”

Another forced smile was curved on Seungcheol’s lips. “It’s okay. I understand,” he said, trying as hard as he could so his voice wasn’t trembling. “I’m happy for you, Y/n.”

You wore a big smile and looked relieved. “Thank you. Sincerely, Seungcheol, thank you.”

He flashed a smile before pretending to be busy looking at the menu. “Since today is a happy day, we should celebrate it,” he cheered.

“You’re right. It’s on me.”

In the end, he let you choose all the dishes from appetizer until desserts. It was difficult for him to stay focused. The ring in his pocket felt as heavy as his heart, but he knew he shouldn’t show it to you. He didn’t want to ruin the precious friendship you’d had for only God knows. He didn’t want to be remembered as someone petty who couldn’t support his best friend’s choice. He didn’t want you to hate him, and possibly leave him if he started to act out crazy.

[teaberrii]

You

One of the most interesting things you can say you did is voice acting for Rover, an artificial intelligence project. After a few years away, you return to Solaris, not expecting to get tangled up in the lives of two different friends with one thing in common: it all began with your voice.

Jiyan/You | Scar/You

Chapter notes: Thank you (again) to my good friend and senpai, hisami_kun, for giving me feedback on this before I released it to the world :3 If you know my stuff, then you'll know that I use italics for flashbacks. Well, now I'm going to try using italics whenever Rover speaks and whenever someone's on the phone. Hopefully, it won't get too confusing, but I think it'll turn out okay.

Chapter One: Your Voice

“You’re up earlier than usual.”

Jiyan is buttoning a white shirt in front of a mirror when Rover suddenly greets him from his digital watch that morning. 

“Would you like your usual sleep report, Doc?”

“I’ve noticed a pattern.” Jiyan fixes his collar. “You’re only vocal about my sleep reports when I haven’t slept well.”

“Well, of course!” Rover answers as Jiyan leaves his large walk-in closet for the kitchen downstairs. “You’re a doctor, Doc. We wouldn’t want you falling asleep on the job.”

“You’re pushing it.” 

“Am I, really? Well, I can always send the data to Scar. He’ll know what to do.”

“That’s called a data breach. It has consequences.”

“So… When you gossip about me to Scar, that’s not considered a data breach?”

“That’s hardly gossiping,” he says, unamused. 

“Yeah, yeah. It’s so I can be ‘better’, is that it, huh?”

Jiayn shuts the fridge with a carton of eggs in his hand. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“It’s what Scar wants. What if I’m already perfect?”

Jiyan’s mornings aren’t usually this lively. They’re actually rather quiet, considering he lives alone. But for the last couple of months, he’s been having company in the form of a voice.

The large monitor turned black, and a dramatic cyberpunk beat filled the room. A water drop formed on the top of the screen and fell, sending digital ripples until the name ‘ROVER’ formed on the screen. 

A man spun around in his chair, one leg crossed arrogantly over the other. His smile was also just as cocky—a little psychopathic, some would describe. Only a few knew what his smile meant, and Jiyan was one of those people.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Jiyan asked.

His friend scoffed quietly. “This is the moment where you’re supposed to say”—his voice went up in pitch—”Wow, Scar! You’re so cool! This is state-of-the-art technology you’re developing here!”

Jiyan’s eyes returned to the monitor as the name on the screen faded and a greeting appeared.

Hello.

It slowly disappeared.

My name is Rover.

Again, it faded.

And you are?

The sound of fingers danced across a keyboard before Jiyan finally tore his eyes away from the monitor and toward Scar. “What are you doing?” Jiyan asked. 

“What do you think? You’re helping me test this, right?”

One loud tap of the keyboard sent another message to appear on the dark screen.

Nice to meet you, Jiyan.

Again, it faded.

I’d like to learn a little more about you.

“What is this about?” Jiyan asked, skeptical of the questions being raised on the screen.

Scar smiled. “It’s doing exactly what it’s meant to be doing. Learning more about its new friend.” He grabbed Jiyan’s arm and pulled him closer to the brightly lit table with all of Scar’s funky electronics. “Just answer its questions, and it’ll take on a personality that matches your taste.”

Jiyan shouldn’t be too surprised. Scar had mentioned it before inviting him over to test his latest invention. Rover was Scar’s latest invention. It was an artificial intelligence he poured his heart and soul into for years for his graduate project. Jiyan saw it when they roomed together. The red eyes. The dark circles. So, when his sleep-deprived roomie asked to give “his baby a lil’ test,” he'd agreed.

Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

“Hello.”

Was that a voice? 

A soft chuckle, and then it spoke again.

“Are you surprised?”

It sounded like a woman.

“Did it… just talk?” Jiyan asked.

“Of course I did. What did you expect? And don’t get me started on pronouns, sir.”

Did they… she… just talk back to him?

“I can tell you two will have so much fun together.” Jiyan didn’t need to look at Scar to know he was smiling. 

“Can I turn it off?” Jiyan asked flatly.

“How rude.” He looked back at the screen. “I know you’re looking at me, and if I could, I'd stare at you right back."

“Are you sure there isn’t something wrong with your questionnaire?” 

Scar put his hands behind his head. “Trust me, friend. The data never lies.”

The sound of sizzling eggs on a frying pan fills the kitchen. Is it still considered testing if Rover’s been getting increasingly human-like the more time it spends with him? Jiyan doesn’t know. All he knows is that there are just a few more months left. Just as he effortlessly flips his omelette, his phone goes off.

“Mornin’ Doc,” Scar says.

“You’re up earlier than usual,” Jiyan says, going right back to his breakfast after leaving his phone on the counter.

“Now he’s stealing my lines,” Rover interrupts.

Jiyan turns off the stove. “Your lines, huh?”

“Looks like the tests are going well,” Scar says, and Jiyan can hear the smugness in his tone. “Anyway, what's your schedule like next week, Doc?”

Rover clears its throat. "Busy... But he should be able to squeeze in time for a guys' night out."

Jiyan already knows Scar wants to go drinking, and with Rover being so honest, it's getting increasingly difficult to hide anything from Scar.

“I thought you would be busy working on your thesis."

“It’s because I’m busy working on my goddamn thesis that I need to get out,” Scar says, and Jiyan can picture him frowning. “I can’t look at it anymore, or I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

“I thought it was already gone,” Rover deadpans.

Scar scoffs. “Stop smiling, fool.”

But Jiyan doesn’t. 

“Anyway,” Scar continues, clearing his throat. “You're coming to have fun with me. No questions asked.”

◆◆◆

Two large suitcases are fully opened on the wooden floor of a small room. Clothes are littered across the bed, and your closet and drawers are opened and nearly empty. You’re standing next to your bed, folding a cream-coloured blouse into the suitcase when your sister’s voice comes from the phone.

“It feels like you graduated just yesterday,” she sighs.

You chuckle. “Yeah, well, I'm finally going home. Isn't that what you always wanted?”

"At first..."

You almost roll your eyes. "What? Did you get used to living alone?"

“You know what the first thing we should do when you get here?”

���Let me guess…” You pick up a cute tank top. “A spa date?”

“No, silly! Drinks! And fun, of course.”

You shake your head with a small smile. “Yeah, sure, if you can stay awake past eleven.”

“Are you sure you aren’t talking about yourself? Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet that cute guy again.”

You put down a pair of shorts. “What cute guy?”

“Did you forget already?” she deadpans. “The guy you went to volunteer for?” You’re racking your brains when your sister sighs. “Rover?”

And then you remember.

It was just after the finals of your last semester at the University of Solaris. The adrenaline and excitement from finishing your last exam had died down pretty quickly after returning to the apartment you shared with your sister. Your four years were finally over, but so were the laughs, tears, and conversations you and your sister shared in this cozy, little space you called home. It was just last week when you decided you would move out as you had gotten a job offer outside of your hometown. Maybe you were being overly dramatic, but the nostalgia hit you like a full-speed train.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone to see that you got an email with a subject that immediately caught your eye: CHANGE THE WORLD WITH YOUR VOICE

It was an ad for student volunteers to read lines for a graduate project. Curious, you reviewed the details, finding it interesting that you’d technically become a voice actor for Rover, a work-in-progress artificial intelligence You kept scrolling until you saw an email contact. You still had time before your move, so... why not? You were technically still a student.

What was the worst that could happen?

“I can’t believe you still remember him,” you say, zipping up one of your suitcases.

You still remember the groggy yet oddly attractive voice when you talked to Scar over the phone. When you finally met the guy, a tall man with grey hair and red roots, you almost changed your mind because of his bad-boy demeanour. It was like he stepped out of a novel. Even his nickname was fishy. Scar? Maybe he liked The Lion King a little too much. 

It wasn’t until you’d gotten to know him a little better that you realized he was just a little… rough around the edges. You had told your sister about this volunteer experience, and she was so curious that she dug for his socials. Now that you thought about it, you still didn’t know his real name. 

“Did you ever hear from him after that?” You zip your suitcase shut. “What happened with Rover anyway?”

“You’re asking”—your voice sounds a little strained as you haul it up—”the wrong person.” You sit on the bed. “It’s not like we kept in touch. And, who knows? Maybe Rover got scrapped.”

“What if it didn’t?” You pick up your phone. “What if someone’s finding comfort in your voice right now?”

◆◆◆

“Doc, wake up!” Jiyan immediately flinches, and the words on his laptop screen slowly return to focus. “See? This is what you get for your poor sleeping habits.” He rubs the space between his brows with two fingers. “You need to start getting your sleep schedule back on track.”

A knock at the door makes Jiyan lower the volume on his watch.

“Come in,” he says.

A nurse walks in, but she cautiously looks around. “Were you talking to someone?”

Jiyan smiles kindly. “Do you need something?”

She puts a folder on his desk. “We got a request from a family who would like you to become their son’s doctor.” Jiyan picks it up and opens it. “But…” The nurse looks down. “We don’t know how effective that would be because of his diagnosis.”

Jiyan tightens his grip around the folder when he sees what he will be dealing with. The NovaFei. His heart races, and he briefly sees his watch flash with a message from Rover: Abnormal heart rate detected.

“I’m sorry. There… There is no cure.”

A young Jiyan leaned forward and grabbed the doctor by the collar as his mother quickly put her hands on his shoulders. “Jiyan!”

“If there’s no cure"—Jiyan shook him violently—"then what can you do?” When the doctor stayed quiet, Jiyan shook him again. “There has to be something you can do! Or, are you saying we’re just going to sit and watch my brother die?”

The nurse’s eyes are on the folder as Jiyan puts it back on his desk. “The family requested you because of your research done in this area. They believe you’ll be able to help”—she pauses briefly—”slow down the disease.”

Jiyan is still staring at the young boy’s photo until it isn't a stranger he sees but his younger brother. He quickly looks back at his monitor just as the phone on his desk goes off. The nurse quickly bows once and steps out.

“Your next patient is here, Doctor,” a woman says as soon as Jiyan answers the call. “Can I send him in?”

“Yes,” Jiyan says, quickly composing himself. 

He puts the phone on the receiver.

“According to my records, you did quite a bit of research on a disease called the NovaFei… You never mentioned this before, Doc.”

“Do I need to?”

“Well… It’s another thing I could add to my database about you—”

“There's no need.”

Then, the door opens, and Jiyan sees his watch screen flash black.

◆◆◆

Sometime next week

“Don’t tell me you’re going out in that.”

Jiyan is fixing his collared shirt in the mirror when Rover suddenly cuts in. His stoic expression remains unchanged as he asks, “What’s wrong with it?”

“You’re going to party, Doc. Not…” Jiyan can imagine someone looking him up and down with an eyebrow raised. “Not a business meeting.”

He turns around. “I don’t see what’s wrong with how I’m dressed. And… might I correct you, it’s just a few drinks.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t try to pull that on me. That’s what they all say.” Jiyan has a thin black jacket draped over his arm as he walks out of his room and heads downstairs. “Trust me, Doc. No matter how old you are, it’s never just a few drinks.”

“Sounds like someone wishes they could physically tag along.”

Rover scoffs loudly. “Oh, okay. Is this what we’re doing now? Don’t get all cocky just because you have a body.” There was a brief pause. “You know… What do you think I’d look like if I did have a body?”

“...I choose not to answer that.”

“What? Why not?”

Jiyan sighs. “Because you’ll find a way to turn the tables on me whatever I say.”

“Well, just you wait. I’m smart enough to know that I’m based on someone, so whoever it is, I bet I look absolutely stunning.”

Jiyan grabs his car keys and heads out the door.

The drive to the pub is a short and pleasant one, but Jiyan can do without Rover switching songs in the car every five minutes. He parks the car and as he steps out, he notices two women near the entrance. He walks past the one closest to the door and heads inside before he hears her voice.

“Is this place new?” you ask.

“Yup!” Your sister pulls the door open and gestures for you to head in first. “After you.”

The first thing you smell is the smoke of an open fire as you step onto the stone floor. Overlapping conversations and glasses clinking together drown out your sister's voice behind you at first until she comes up beside you.

“Well, what do you think so far?" your sister asks. "It’s a nice break from all the moving, right?”

You'd been back in Solaris for about a week, and despite it being your hometown, it felt oddly different. Maybe it was because you were a different person now.

You and your sister are sitting at the bar when you say, “It’s cozy.” You look around. “And surprisingly clean.” 

She waves the bartender over, but you don't hear what she says when the live band starts playing in a corner of the pub. On the opposite end of the pub sits two men beside each other. Both have half-empty beer glasses in front of them.

“Is it just me, or do you have something on your mind?” Jiyan is absentmindedly toying with his silver ring when Scar asks the question and leans closer. “Don’t tell me it’s woman troubles.”

“Well, a woman was the cause of it.”

Jiyan side-eyes his watch in response to Rover’s comment.

“It’s work-related,” Jiyan says, sipping his beer.

Scar swings an arm around him. “Okay, listen, we’re here to have fun, goddammit. And fun”—his eyes land on a tall woman wearing a flattering black dress—”we will have.”

“Doc’s idea of fun might be a little different than what you have in mind.”

“Oh? Then, tell me, Rover. What does Jiyan like to do for fun?”

“Well… I can confirm nothing that involves the opposite sex, which is a little concerning.”

Jiyan lightly coughs after taking another swig of his beer as Scar laughs. “Concerning, huh? Why's that?”

“Doc’s not letting loose. He’s a little too uptight about life.”

“Not everyone has the same definition of fun,” Jiyan says flatly.

“According to my records, aren’t building solid human relationships a foundation for a happy life? Am I wrong?”

Scar nudges his friend. “Well, Jiyan? Is Rover wrong?”

“I fail to see how being 'uptight' about life and building human relationships relate to each other," Jiyan answers nonchalantly.

"All human relationships gotta start somewhere," Scar says as if stating the obvious. "If you're too uptight, you can't start anything." He puts a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Don't think. Just feel.”

Jiyan doesn’t even turn to watch his friend approach the woman in the pretty black dress. 

“It baffles me that you two are friends. One’s a social butterfly, the other’s a…”

“...A jerk?”

Thinking that it’s Rover, Jiyan asks, “Did you just—”

“Hold up. That wasn’t me.”

Jiyan turns around, missing you and your sister walking by.

A short distance away, your sister turns to you. “What wasn’t you?”

You're about to answer her when a man at the bar catches your eye. His teal hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and his jawline is so sharp that it might cut through steel. When his yellow eyes land on you, you look away. Yet, you can't shake the feeling that he's still looking at you... like a like a curious, calm dragon.

“Scar?” your sister asks incredulously.

You turn just in time to see a familiar man walking toward you and your sister. His eyes are shining, and your jaw almost drops. Is that really who you think it is?

"Well, well, what a small world." Scar has a hand in his pocket when he turns to your sister. "I don't believe we’ve met… Have we?”

Your sister loops her arm in yours. “We haven't! But, um, I’m her sister." She looks at you in excitement. "She's told me about you.”

"Wha—"

Scar looks at you. “It’s been a long time.”

You awkwardly clear your throat. "You... You're not pretending to remember me, right?"

Scar scoffs. "Why in the world would I do that?" He chuckles. "You were one of the better ones I worked with. So, of course, I’d remember you." He leans down so he's on eye level with you. "But gotta say, I’m surprised you remember me.”

“It’s hard to forget someone who yells at you to speak with more emotion,” you deadpan.

“Hey, I was only doing my job.” Then, he looks past you and grins. “Ah, right on time.”

You look over your shoulder and almost gasp that the same man you saw earlier is walking towards you.

Scar wraps a friendly arm around Jiyan. “Meet the voice behind your beloved Rover.” You and Jiyan meet eyes before Scar grabs Jiyan's wrist and lifts it, giving you a clear view of Jiyan's watch. “Rover’s finally in its testing stages, and”—Scar pats Jiyan’s chest—”this guy’s nice enough to test it out for me. And, it just so happens that his Rover uses your voice.”

“Wow, so it’s like me��� but with a body!”

Your eyes immediately go to the walking watch. You shouldn’t be surprised but you still can’t find the words to describe how you feel.

Jiyan gently shrugs off Scar's grip and gives him a deadpan look. "Unfortunately, I can't turn it off yet." His eyes land on you. "Not yet, at least."

“Wow, rude.”

Jiyan notices your little smile.

Your sister nudges you. "See? What did I tell you?"

"What?" Scar asks. "Did you think it got scrapped or something?"

Guess he's also a mind reader.

"Oh, honey, I'd never let this get scrapped with the amount of effort I had to go through."

"What did you just call me?" you ask.

"Don't mind him. It's a nickname for all the girls he likes."

"Your Rover is a little too honest," Scar deadpans.

"It's something you could change," Jiyan answers.

A saxophone solo goes off, and Scar gestures to grab drinks. Soon, you're watching him and your sister walk off, talking like they're old friends. A loud cheer goes off, and once it quiets, you hear Jiyan say, "I haven't formally introduced myself." He holds out his hand. "I'm Jiyan."

The world stops moving, and a rush flows throughout your body when your hand touches his. 

As you let go of his hand, Jiyan’s watch flashes. It’s for just a moment, but you swear you see it say:

Abnormal heartbeat detected.

End notes: This has been sitting in my drafts for a long time, so I finally polished it up more and sent it off into the world. I haven't decided who the final pairing is going to be, so... honestly, this will be just as big of a mystery to everyone as it is to me LOL But I've always wanted to try writing love triangles, and crossing my fingers that this will turn out okay. This story is meant to get me back into my usual writing groove... so it won't be very long.

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @totromanticfool

[theink-stainedfolk]

Writer Questionnaire Tag

Thank you @drchenquill @the-golden-comet and @paeliae-occasionally for the tag

how long have you had your writing tumblr/writeblr? a fast and loose estimate is fine!

It's been at least 6 months or more I believe.

what led you to create it?

I actually had it from before but i never really posted anything. The thought that there might be people willing to read my works more than my own family and friends led me to create it. I was done shying away.

what's your favourite thing about the writeblr community?

I absolutely adore the supportive and inclusive nature of the writeblr community! It's a space where writers from diverse backgrounds and genres come together to share their passion for storytelling. I love how everyone encourages and uplifts each other, offering constructive feedback and celebrating each other's successes. The community's enthusiasm is infectious, and it motivates me to keep writing and improving my craft. I also appreciate the wealth of resources and knowledge shared within the community, from writing tips and prompts to editing advice and publishing insights. It's amazing to see how writers willingly share their expertise and experiences to help others grow. Most of all, I cherish the sense of belonging and connection that comes with being part of this community. Writeblr feels like a virtual writing group, where we can discuss our projects, share our struggles, and rejoice in our triumphs together

what's one thing you'd like your mutuals to know about you?

That i really love talking about my WIPs and OCs aand everything related to my story. I feel happy, seen and appreciated. If you like anything i woorte, please don't hesitate to ask or just tell me how you feel.

is there anything you'd like to see more of on your dash?

Uh..memes? More aisan drama related things? More HSR stuff everything about my interests etc.

which wips or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Very wrong question lol. I've been going back and forth between my WIPs. But the most recent one I've done, or am thinking about is The Masque of Murder .

how long have you been working on them?

Hahaha.... Since months, years and i still haven't even written a chapter for some of them. I hate myself for that. But since The Masque of Murder is recent, it's been a week or so.

do you remember what inspired them/ what got you started?

Yeah i remember reading a manhwa which had this crazy but mad genius doctor as a minor villan. It got me thinking that it was a waste of his abilities and damn good looks and he would have been surely protected by the plot armour had he been the main character instead. This forced me into making it lol.

how much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

🎵Every hour, every minute, every second. And night after night, I'll thinking 'bout you right, 7 days a week.🎶

name any characters you created. side characters, protagonists, antagonists, characters who've never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you'd like!

Uh... every single one of them? I created everyone, if that's what you're asking haha.. I'm not sure if i understand it correctly but i created everyone on my own. I'll mention the one that comes to my mind first then.

Side character- Emrys from In The Silence, Strength

Protagonist- Dr. Phineas Abel Thorncroft from The Masque Of Murder

Antagonist- Dante from Beyond The Pages (but he is also the protagonist)

And i can't really remember the last two.

when someone asks the dreaded, "what do you write about," question, what do you usually say?

Yknow, fantasy stuff with magic and murder mystery with actual murder and blood and stuff and all that hahah none of the stuffs that you like or understand or are interested in right? Hahah it totally doesn't have queer peoples. Just fictional stuff you don't wanna know hahaha.

Deadass.

who's the most unhinged?

Dr. Phineas Abel Thorncroft (from The Masque Of Murder), Acheron (from Legacy of Creation), Dante (from Beyond The Pages) and Eitenne Lumiere( from Wicked Games, Wicked Fates) from what i remember .

who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Vesperine, Cleo, Pareen

do you ever cringe at them?

Hahaha... sometimes..

how much control do you feel you have over your characters? do they ever "write themselves," refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn't expect? to what degree? are some less cooperative than others?

I feel like i have 70% control and 30% is something they do it themselves because i give them the freedom to do so. Because that is the story of my character and not of me, even if I am the one who wrote it. Sometimes the decision i make for them is not what they'd do.

do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? and do you have a preferred means of receiving said questions? for example, as asks, as replies, as reblogs, as tag notes, as comments on ao3, etc.

Yes i absolutely love it please ask. Doesn't matter how just ask♡♡♡

what makes you want to follow another writeblr account? do you follow 'em as you see 'em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? do you follow based on wips, or vibes?

I take time scoping out the blog to make sure i align with it's content. And i follow based on both, wips and vibes but mostly vibes.

what makes you decide against following?

If i don't align with the content or i don't fond the story interesting, i don't follow.

do you interact with non-mutual often?

Not often but i do.

do your mutuals' characters occupy space in your noodle?

There are so so many characters of my mutuals that i love love loveee but my memory rn isn't functioning at its best so i will just write whom i can remember rn.

The Madness, the lady and that guy from Foliè written by @drchenquill, my friend. Whose writing always leaves me with surprises and cliffhangers. She supports me so much i almost feel guilty 💕💕💕💕 i love you so much💖💖💖

@paeliae-occasionally Xanren, Marsh and Paeliae. I love their stories it captivated me. I hope you can tag me on their journey 👍, @cssnder, my first mutual whom i talked with so much courage that i almost didn't open tumblr the next day due to embarrassment and nervousness. Her works are like renaissance paintings, truly mesmerizing and beautiful. Thus Saith The Lord is truly a work of art and i hope i get to read it soon.😭 And also, @roarintheheavens , my new friend, I'm so happy. Vron Carson, he is very interesting and i can't wait to know more about him. And of course, @the-golden-comet, I'd very much like to read more about peter hart.

Just because i didn't mention everyone doesn't mean i don't appreciate your works, it's just that i haven't read them yet. I hope you all can send it to me. I'll definitely read it.

I'll tag @finickyfelix @willtheweaver @ascotwriting @agirlandherquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @illarian-rambling @winglesswriter @graveyardshift111

[marimayscarlett]

Hello lovely!

Because I love your takes and posts on the eternally beautiful, wonderful Richard Z. Kruspe, I was wondering what your top five random weird facts about him are - like silly things he’s said or other people have said about him (e.g. Khira’s post on insta complaining about all the naked lady art in the house!)

TY! 😘

Hello my dear and thank you so much for your ask! Glad you enjoy my posts, this means a lot to me 🥰

This one took me a while (had to comb through several interviews for this), but I shamelessly used this ask to create two little lists - one with weird little facts/moments and one with interesting little facts in general. Not necessarily my top five (would be super hard to pick them), but moments which I think about currently. A lot 😄

Random weird facts and moments:

Literally this interview. He had absolutely no restraint and some pick-me-vibes going on, especially in these moments: - Interviewer: 'On the surface, the title A Million Degrees seems to suggest heat or that you are implying that the music is hot or on fire.' RZK: 'Or just me!' (laughs) - Interviewer: (speaking about the possibility of Emigrate opening for Rammstein) 'Isn’t it physically exhausting, too?' RZK: 'Yeah, it’s like having two women in the same night!' (laughs) - Interviewer: (after explaining her thoughts about the title "A million degrees) 'So, out of curiosity, what was your intention with the album’s title?' RZK: 'I always knew that women were smarter than men!'

me reading this entire interview:

That recording an album with Rammstein can be quite exhausting is something Richard (and sometimes also other members) mentioned several times. They discuss a lot, sometimes have verbal fights, etc. - but Richard admitted that he sometimes wished for proper "Wild West" fist fights because that maybe would've also solved some problems 👀 (as I mentioned some time ago, how about some anger management my guy) (source)

Poor little lad does not understand the concept of strip clubs, plus since he doesn't drink alcohol, it's apparently abysmally boring for him in these locations 😪 Better write a strip song, fitting for a good striptease, and that's how we got the song "Get Down" (source)

Widely known, but still: this moment from this interview: - Interviewer: 'What would you spend your last £20 on?' RZK: 'How much is that in Euros, about 20? A nice blowjob! Actually, change that - a handjob. Yes, they're easy to get near where I live. I could get 20 minutes for 20€, that's good value!'

2. Random interesting (at least for me) facts in general:

In this podcast Richard mentions that the Emigrate album "The persistence of memory" essentially was a therapeutic project for him. In 2019, he fell into a heavily depressive episode after the tour and even contemplated quitting music completely. So he started to sift through his old compositions and songs he had on his computer, some dating back over 20 years, and somehow found his love for music again through those memories - and this album, which was not at all planned, was the result of this process. This is the reason why we have songs like "Freeze my mind" for example, which dates all the way back to 2001 and was written by Richard and his then-wife Caron.

In this interview Richard mentions that these four songs are his favourites (at least at this point in time): - Hurt by Nine Inch Nails - Babe I'm gonna leave you by Led Zeppelin - Sin City by AC/DC - Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode

The book "Perfume" by Patrick Süßkind (which explores dark themes of obsession and power, linked with the sense of smell and emotions), which he read as a teenager, was the reason why he wanted to create something which REALLY moves a crowd, like the perfect song. (source)

Here Richard mentioned that when his daughter Khira was younger, he played her a lot of the Rammstein tracks because he knew she would be brutally honest and give him straightforward feedback. This didn't work anymore after some time, since as a teenager she later learned how to please him and get what she wanted (let's be real, we've all been there). Plus, he's apparently a rather strict parent, believing that you have to make a lot of experiences to get forward in life and that self-discipline helps a great deal.

In this interview, Richard mentions that he likes to pick out an audience member to get an connection to through eye contact (at least this was the case back then) - and this eye contact helps him to put on a good show, most likely to play the concert for this particular fan. Plus he thinks about doing mediation after a concert, as a vent to balance out all the energy he's absorbed from the crowd.

I hope these lists are at least a bit like what you had in mind as an answer 😊 Thanks a lot again for this ask 🤍

[ox-imagines]

I'm Yours (In This Life and the Next)

Pt. 1 | Zenji x reader/OC (Tokyo Debunker)

!! Major spoilers for chapter five of TDB ahead !!

Content warnings: mentions of death

Before my eyes opened, I could smell that something was off. The air was sterile, scented with metal and fresh cloth and… something else I couldn’t quite place, but I was definitely somewhere medical. My whole body felt a general achiness, my neck stiff and sore and my head pounding. Finally, my eyes blinked open. I squinted at the fluorescent lighting, trying to remember what had happened, how I could’ve possibly gotten here.

It was a lovely day out. The sun was gently blanketed by clouds, providing the ideal amount of light as I walked arm-in-arm with Zenji through a secluded part of the Darkwick campus. I’d started at Darkwick the previous school year, having just moved to Japan in order to attend the prestigious academy as a ghoul student. I wasn’t exactly outgoing and being in a new country didn’t help, but getting placed in Hotarubi seemed like a lucky break for me; the other two ghouls, who were also first-years, and all the general students I’d interacted with were so friendly and good-intentioned. Zenji was a particular help in getting me settled here. He was an odd boy, a bit eccentric with a flair for the dramatic, but also one of the most understanding, caring people I’d ever met. Lively ruby-red eyes, shiny deep-purple hair, a touch of eyeliner and lavender eyeshadow, with unique yet fashionable style and a stunningly sweet smile; that was Zenji. Needless to say it didn’t take long for me to completely fall for him. We ended up spending almost every day together, studying side by side, sharing our projects, occasionally getting R&R permits to go on little off-campus dates and day trips so he could show me his favorite places.

Over the spring break between academic years, I'd gone back home and missed being with him, but we texted and called when we could, working around the timezone difference. When we returned this year, it was like we’d never been apart. Haku, a fellow second-year ghoul from Frostheim, transferred to Hotarubi and his easygoing attitude quickly espoused him to our whole house. Zenji also made friends with a sweet, playful new ghoul from Jabberwock named Towa and we spent some of our days with him. Often though, it was still just us. I tried to ground my thoughts and remember the last thing that had happened. The birds were singing quietly as we walked, Zenji rambling about his latest novel idea. That’s how things usually went: I was content to listen to him and give him whatever feedback he wanted, and he was almost always bright and talkative, though always sensitive enough to know when silence was valuable. Even with the chaos and warring going on between the houses this year, his spirits couldn’t seem to be dampened. He seemed particularly vibrant today though… was it today? How did I get here?

All I could remember was him, his crimson eyes glittering, shining with adoration as he looked down at me, watching my reactions to his grand ideas. The warmth of his arm around mine, the lilt of his deep voice, the way he leaned in to gently kiss my cheek and the way his breath tickled my ear as he did so. The dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves added to his magnificence. And then… And then?

Oh.

Oh.

The ground trembled softly, Zenji’s hold on me tightening and his bright eyes clouding with alarm as he looked around. The ground started shaking harder, and over the crest of the horizon line a massive anomalous creature resembling a rhino approached. That wasn’t good. The other few students scattered around the lawn screamed and ran, one of them not lucky enough to escape the anomaly’s angered rampage and getting trampled with a sickening crunch. Zenji’s hand slid down and clasped onto mine tightly. “Run. We can’t outrun it, but maybe it’ll go the other way.” He was often a worrier, but the dark concern in his quivering voice didn’t belong there. Though he wasn’t particularly athletic, his long legs moved quickly to try and carry him away, his hand in mine pulling me along with him as I tried to catch up.

“Shit,” I gasped out, unsure whether or not we were successfully escaping the beast but unwilling to look over my shoulder.

“Shit,” Zenji nodded in agreement, one of the very few times I’d ever heard him curse. He did look behind us and his expression told me everything I needed to know. “Leia, don’t let go,” the fear in his voice and eyes chilled me and I held his hand tighter, his own grip on mine almost painful. “Keep running, don’t look back.”

A heavy force hit me hard from the back. I went flying and my hand slipped from Zenji’s. My conciousness faded as I hit a tree.

My heart was pounding and my mouth was dry; I tried to sit up, but a harsh pain in my side stopped me. Some machine I was attached to started beeping and Yuri, a first-year Mortkranken student with a cold, stern air about him and aqua hair that matched his house’s color, appeared promptly with a clipboard. He checked the beeping machine to record my vitals, not saying anything.

“Where, where is he? Where’s Zenji? Yuri…”

He turned to me, wearing an odd look I couldn’t quite discern. “Haku’s here, he’s been waiting for you to wake up. I’ll let you talk to him.” Yuri left just as quickly as he’d arrived. Moments later, a familiar figure stepped into the doorway, stringy green hair hanging over sad eyes and a bittersweet smile.

“Hey,” Haku stepped closer, clearing his throat softly and settling into the chair at my bedside. “You’re up; how do you feel?”

“I, I don’t know, sore? Haku, is Zenji okay?” At my sides, my hands were trembling. I looked down and noticed there were little crescent-shaped bruises on one of them from Zenji’s nails, from the way he’d held on to it so tightly as we’d ran.

Haku’s smile faltered and he looked down. “Leia, he’s… he’s gone. I’m sorry.”

“No. No,” I shook my head. “What do you mean, ‘gone?’ He had to be taken off campus for treatment?”

“Leia…” The boy reached into his pocket, holding something out to me. I held a shaking hand out.

It was Zenji’s necklace and glasses lanyard. I felt like I might be sick.

“His glasses themselves were broken, but,” Haku trailed off, shrugging and rubbing his neck.

I wanted to laugh, to tell him to fuck off with his stupid jokes and tell me when I could see Zenji, but the look in Haku’s eyes told me he was fully serious. “Oh, God,” the pain in my chest was so much worse than any of the other pain in my aching body. “Please,” I whined, my throat tightening. Hot tears ran down my cheeks without me even registering that I was crying.

Haku glanced at the spot between us, his golden gaze flickering, conflicted. He stood and strode over to the door, quietly shutting it. “Leia, the university can’t know this or they’ll make me put him to rest, but…” he carefully sat on the edge of my bed and took my hand that still held Zenji’s belongings. “Close your eyes, hold onto those tightly, and think of Zenji.”

I did as he said without having a clue what was happening and he began playing his flute. My hand was shaking, closed around the trinkets that Zenji virtually always wore, tears spilling silently from my eyes as I kept them squeezed shut. Suddenly, the very familiar sound of a certain stringed instrument joined Haku’s flute: Zenji’s biwa. Instinctually, I almost opened my eyes, but Haku rested a steadying hand on my arm.

The music stopped.

“Oh, my dear, I hate seeing you like this. I hope Haku is right about this working.”

“Zenji?” I cried, my eyes flying open as I lurched forward in the bed, ignoring the sharp pain in my side. Zenji sat at the foot of my bed, his clear porcelain skin puffy and red as if he’d been crying too. As he realized I could see and hear him, a wide grin split his face and his chest shook with something between a laugh and a sob as tears of joy gathered in his eyes. He leapt forward with his arms open.

My smile fell a bit as I felt a cool breeze rather than Zenji’s warm embrace. He’d passed through me rather than hugging me. “Oh,” he sat back, his crimson eyes saddening. He carefully reached out and my cheek felt cold where his hand was, his thumb brushing under my eye. “I’m so sorry this happened, my dearest.” 

I resisted the urge to lean into his touch, knowing I’d just pass through his hand if I did. I closed my eyes and let out a deep, shaky sigh. “It’s okay, baby. It’s just something new to figure out. I’m just happy I still have you, even if it’s in a different capacity.” That was partially a lie. I doubted he’d pick up on it, but Haku surely would have. How could I be happy with this? Zenji was only 19, and was a font of creativity and life and love; he didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve to die so young.

“I will say,” Haku interrupted after a moment. “With some time and practice, you should be able to feel his touch, properly. Zenji, you’ve already figured out you can interact with inanimate objects when you want to and when you concentrate on trying to, and human contact will essentially work the same way. Have you heard of spirits physically attacking people? It’s the same premise, although vengeful spirits are usually tied to the physical realm more than you are, Zenji.”

By that point, I was only half-listening to Haku. My mind was racing, trying to figure out some way to fix this. I spent a decent amount of time with the Mortkranken ghouls, I’d always had a penchant for science and the morally grey ethics to match theirs, I just had a stronger tendency towards artistry that had landed me in Hotarubi. Between me and Yuri, we could surely deliberate a solution for Zenji, even if it was questionable at best.

“What if we found a way to make him, I don’t know, ‘real’ again?” I turned to Haku, trying to place my hand over Zenji’s on my lap and sighing as I once again passed through him. I flipped my hand over so he could set his on it.

“What did you have in mind, my dear?” Zenji’s voice held a note of skepticism, but his eyes shone curiously.

“I’m not sure yet, but it would have to involve Yuri. Haku, I know you didn’t want to tell anyone, but Yuri would much rather take the chance to play around and make up new experiments than he would turn over a potential test subject to the Chancellor.”

Haku’s brows were furrowed as he studied me. “I’m not sure what you want to try and do, but reanimation and possession are both testy subjects. You’re not wrong about Yuri, though, I’ll give you that.”

My eyes moved back to lock onto Zenji’s. “No matter what, I’m still yours,” I smiled at him, though I could tell it came out a little more lopsided and sad than I’d intended. “Could we go back to the dorms now?”

“Nah, you’re still stuck here for a couple days,” Haku chuckled. “You’ve got two broken ribs and a concussion.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you,” Zenji’s hand brushed coolly along my face again, his tone somber. “But!” It rapidly upticked into his usual dramatic bravado and I couldn’t help but grin. “I will be right by your side; I can read to you, or regale you, or play my biwa for you, or simply talk. I will watch over you all night, my dear.”

My heart swelled with emotion. Even in death, my sweet, perfect boyfriend was concerned for my well-being. There certainly weren't many people who could say the same, either. For better or for worse, this was the situation we were handed, and I’d be damned if we weren’t going to figure it out one way or another.

[russellsppttemplates]

Breathe for me (Pierre Gasly)

Y/N's anxiety has been building throughout the week and it finally crumbled down

Note: english is not my first language. As you maybe know by now, talking about these subjects is a big responsibility for me, but I always hope that I've represented it well enough. It is different for different people, so what I have here is a possible scenario and not the only scenario.

Tags: @myloverjk-blog

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's anxiety symptoms which build up to an anxiety attack

You and Pierre had been invited to join his friends for dinner, and while you thought you were better from last night, things were showing otherwise. Walking around with your skirt unzipped, you tapped your tummy in hopes that the nervous feeling would settle once for all.

Things had felt off throughout the wholr day, it just hadn't been feeling right. And, quite honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was to go and sit through a dinner, pretending you were fully composed when, deep down, your mind kept racing and you couldn't shut it off.

It wasn't because of the company, after all, you had known them for a good while and even felt comfortable around them to the point where admitting what was going on wouldn't be an issue, but right now, Pierre seemed to be the only person you could be with and not feel overwhelmed.

"Amour, do you need- hey, are you feeling okay?", Pierre asked, noticing your nervous stance as you paced around the bedroom, "hey, talk to me, please", he asked, stopping you on your tracks and holding you in place as softly as he could.

"I don't know if I can go. I'm not feeling very well, so I think it's best if you go and I stay", you said, genuinely wanting him to go and have a good time, knowing you wouldn't be the best company right now and that this particular group of friends hadn't been together at the same place in quite some time.

Pushing you to sit on the bed and sitting next to you, Pierre laced his fingers in yours while making sure you were looking at him and taking in every word he said, "hey, we don't need to go. I can call them and tell them we can't make it, they'll understand", he offered, "I want you to be okay, no matter what", he said, "but you can go, I'll just stay here. You haven't seen them in a while and you don't need when you will all have the opportunity to get together again", you said. Finding today to be the date where everyone was available had been enough of a struggle.

"I'm not leaving you feeling like this. I'm staying", Pierre said, grabbing comfier clothes from the wardrobe and helping you undress, "we are going to have a cosy night in, how does that sound?", he asked.

After changing into comfortable clothes, you and Pierre stayed tucked in bed after he texted his friends, his arms protectively around you as you managed to relax a little bit, happy to stay in his embrace while he read a book with you.

.

"Do you think we can get that done until Friday?", one of your colleagues asked, "the client needs it for their meeting, apparently he's having dinner with the investors", she rolled her eyes.

"I think I can, but they should really stop and think about doing these things in such a rushed way, I mean, it's not the first time we're almost running against the clock", you reasoned back, booking another meeting with her to sort out the last final details before handing the project in.

The uneasiness feeling that had been with you since you woke up was not sitting right, so when you logged off your laptop, you decided that working out would be a good distraction and allow you to forget about it.

"Are you heading for a run?", Pierre asked you as he walked inside the bedroom, seeing you put on your sports bra, "I was planning on doing some yoga, maybe go for a walk after", you said, watching him walk over to the drawer where he kept his workout clothes, "do you mind if I joing you? I promise I won't utter a word", he smirked, kissing your cheek and changing from his day clothes.

You and Pierre arranged the room so you could lay the mats, pressing play on the video and doing your best to mimick the moves and positions the young woman was going on the screen. You weren't an expert by all means, but exercise had always been a good escape when you felt overwhelmed, and having Pierre with you, even if you weren't talking or touching, made you feel his support and attentiveness.

"Still up for that walk?", he asked as he handed you your bottle of water, "yes, I think so", you smiled.

Walking on that park had become a common thing for you, being almost able to walk with your eyes closed from how many times you had been there, "are you feeling better now?", Pierre asked.

By now, he had noticed your patterns and preferences, so it wasn't too hard for him to notice that your day hadn't been the best, "yes, thank you for joining me. I know you know you don't need to, but I'm happy you did", you sighed, "my deadline just became a lot more real, so I need to hurry. But I'm also aware I can't do much if I'm worried, so here I am, trying to shush the worry away, at least for a bit", you explained, feeling your boyfriend squeeze your hand in his, "you did well, amour".

.

Work was finally over, you had handed in your project and you thought it would make you feel at ease, that it would allow you to finally feel a little bit lighter, but it didn't. Your thoughts were still spiralling, and they didn't seem like they were on the way to settling down. Your legs started to feel tingly, and you didn't trust them to stay up, so you sat on the living room floor with your back against the sofa, letting your body feel the softness of the rug while your lungs felt like they couldn't get enough air inside them.

You closed your eyes, trying to regulate your breathing as best as you could when you heard a noise far away, approaching quickly as you could make out your name in what the person was saying.

"Amour, Y/N, hey...! Breathe for me, yeah?", said as you tried your best to follow his voice and block out everything else, feeling Pierre's hand coming to hold your own, the feel of his fingers very faint as you struggled in regulating your unsteady breathing, "Y/N, hey, hey, you're okay, amour. Everything is fine, okay?", he urged you to follow his voice, something you had mentioned before that always calmed you.

Encouraging you to breathe with him, you finally got up to his rhythm, looking up to his eyes and despite the worry in them, you also saw the calm that comes after the storm has passed. How it all seems too much, it bursts, and then you're just left with the aftermath.

"There you go, that's good, good, just like that", he said, sitting on the floor and sitting on your side so he could pull your body against his, seeing you were struggling to hold yourself upright.

You stood there a couple of minutes, your eyes closing for a little bit before you croaked a few words out, "can we go to the sofa, please?", feeling his arms go around your back and under your knees, swiftly pulling you against him and getting up from his spot, walking to the sofa and cuddling there with you, brushing your hair with his fingers.

"Do you want some water? A snack perhaps", he advised, "I'm just a little tired, but thanks", you smiled weakly, "you're alright, ma belle, take all the time you need".

You must have fallen asleep on your boyfriend's chest, because when you woke up he was still there, but the window was no longer letting sunlight in and rather moonlight, the TV was on what looked like the evening news and you could feel a blanket covering you and Pierre.

"Hey, you", he whispered, kissing your forehead as he helped you sit up straight, "are you feeling better? A little more rested?", he asked, brushing the hairs away from your eyes, "yes, I am", you smiled, "thank you".

"Those hadn't happened in a while", he pointed out, "yes, it had been a while. I've been able to manage it, but it just crumbled today, before I could get it together, it's just crumbled", you explained

"That's okay, it happens, amour. You're still very strong to have managed ti well, I'm proud of you", he said honestly. Pierre always made you feel safe and never once judged you, instead always wanting to learn how to help you when you needed him and how he could make things better for you. So he wasn't lying when he said he was proud of you and how far you had come.

"My throat is a bit dry", you said, getting up and being followed by Pierre to the kitchen, sipping on the water as he grabbed something to snack on, "do you want some food?", he asked, "no, I'm good", you stated.

"What happened that got you to have the attack?", he wondered, "I handed in my project today. It had been building the last few days, and I was so sure they would be gone by the time I submitted it", you shrugged your shoulders, "now I know what to expect", you smiled, wanting to comfort Pierre and erase the crease between his eyebrows.

"Do you want to go and watch a movie? There's a new Disney one I haven't seen yet", he changed the subject, having gotten the information he needed and looking for a distraction, "Lead the way, handsome".

[thefangirlfever]

DBF! Miguel O'hara x reader (part 5)

Tags: angst, fluff, slow burn, F/M, age gape (reader is 28 and Miguel is 48), taboo relationship, mention of death, grief and depression, reader is a woman of color

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. See the end for notes.

Words Count: 5130

“You look positively awful.”

You sighed while hearing the voice of your fellow colleague and friend, Sarah. It was only ten in the morning but she was still as sharp as you remembered her. Not that you would complain, there was something comforting into finding back your usual banter. On the other side of the screen, Sarah was sitting at her desk in your office, already dressed-up and ready for an other day of work at the Smith and co Publishing house. Even if you had to go back to your hometown, you couldn’t let all your projects and upcoming work like that. While Sarah kept an eye on most projects, you were still working on them, sending feedback and correcting most drafts.

“Thanks, Sarah, I like hearing positive words like this when I just woke up.”

To be fair, waking up would imply that you had slept at some point, which was not your case. It has been an other sleepless night filled with feverish nightmares, existential dread and the crushing weight of anxiety sitting on top of your stomach.

She was not wrong, you looked awful this morning. The dark circles under your eyes were now more pronounced after almost two weeks at your father’s place. You were still wearing your robe and your skin looked tarnish. Some fresh air wouldn’t hurt you, but you had your reason for keeping yourself at home. First of all, you were sure you got sick that day spent gardening. Second of all, you had no intention on running into some people or old acquaintances; especially one man in particular…

“I’m serious, Y/N. You look terrible. Why didn’t you ask for a sickness leave? You know, Megan would have given it to you.”

You mumbled something under your breath.

“I don’t like giving up all my work.”

The woman on the other side of the screen rolled her eyes:

“You’re not giving up your work. You’re just taking a break…”

This was your time rolling your eyes. It was not the first time the two of you had this conversation. What was taking a break if not an other excuse for you to bask in those long and endless hours of uncertainty? The longer you stayed without doing anything, the more you were convinced you wouldn’t be able to do anything else again. You needed to move, to act upon something, or else you would slowly decay yourself away. Been there, done that. The last thing you wanted was to do it again. You still remembered the shame, the self-loathe that came with the inactivity, after all these hours spend in bed doing nothing, not even crying.

Hopefully, Sarah didn’t seem to want to push further. Instead she crossed her arms over her desk and looked at you with the gaze she usually reserved for when you were alone, out of the office and drinking at a bar in town.

“So...your father, how is he doing?”

You happily welcomed the change of subject from your poor life habits to your father’s health. At least there was some progress on this side.

“He is doing better. I think his cast will be removed mid-December.”

“Oh, that’s good.” You couldn’t help but feel grateful for her tone. Even if she had never met your father, she always asked about him and she genuinely looked concerned and sounded relieved for him. “This means the two of you will spend the Holidays together?”, she asked with the same enthusiasm.

You nodded without saying a word. She didn’t need to know that you weren’t planning on staying for the holidays. The last thing you wanted was to get trapped in this house with your father alone while the ghost of your mother would haunt the two of you. The mere fact of imagining the table for the dinner with only two plates and not her gave you nausea.

You kept talking about your father’s condition and when you mentioned getting help from one of his friends, you instantly regretted this. The memory of Miguel’s face only increased your nauseous feeling.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

How could you have said this to him when he had helped your family so much? You must have sounded like such an ungrateful jerk… but for some reason, you couldn’t stand the idea of him talking about your mother. Not that he would say anything wrong or hurtful, but if there was one moment when you wanted to not feel like this grieving daughter everyone knew, it was when you were with him…

Sarah cocked one of her eyebrows in a curious way: “A friend of your father? That’s nice of him to help you.”

Again, guilt hit you in the guts and you tried your best to keep a still demeanor. “Yeah...he is very nice… Maybe a little too much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel like asking too much from him…”

Sarah’s eyes opened a little wider in surprise and she looked at you as if you were crazy.

“I’m sure if it was too much for him, he wouldn’t help you this much. You know, there’s nothing wrong in asking for some help.”

It was the exact same words Miguel had said to you and just like when he was the one saying them, you couldn’t help but silently disagree. It has never been in your nature to ask for help, not ask, beg. You’d rather find a solution alone; no need to worry anyone.

“Yeah, I’ll think about that.”, you replied before coughing loudly. Your friend’s brows furrowed and she sighed.

“You’re not sick by any chance? That would explain why you look...like this.” Her words sounded a little more gentle this time as if she was trying her best to not offend you. You’d rather have her being honest with you. The truth was that you were a mess ever since you had woken up. You were feeling dizzy, hot and cold at the same time and your throat was itching. But there was no use to alarm anyone, right?

“It’s nothing, don’t worry. I think I just caught a small cold while staying in the garden for too long…”

“You should go see a doctor.”

“Mhh...I’ll think about that.” You did know a doctor but you weren’t sure you wanted to ask for his help, again. Your friend rolled her eyes again but she chose to not say anything more about this except for: “If you need anything, please, call me.”

“Thanks…”, you replied after a few seconds.

There was no way you would ask anyone for help. How bad could it be?

You spend the rest of the day in a haze. Sarah had sent you a manuscript to correct. Usually this was a task you would easily complete and you were not slow when it came to work. But today, reading even a single sentence made your head pound loudly. You couldn’t read a single sentence in its entirety and you found yourself reading three times the same words over and over again.

The itching sensation in the back of your throat felt like a claw was scratching against your skin and you were practically sure you had a fever; not that you wanted to check.

“I don’t want to sound rude, but you look awful…”, your father quietly said while the two of you had dinner.

“It’s nothing, I just caught a cold.” The last thing you wanted was to worry him. He didn’t need to know that you were feeling nauseous. He didn’t need to know that under that robe, your clothes clung to your damp-sweat skin or that you spend hours tossing in your bed that night looking for sleep.

You tried to conjure a dream, a fantasy, anything to escape from the state you were in. Lying down your bed while looking at the ceiling, you were feeling the exact same way than when you were a teenager. You remember those long nights filled with this feeling you couldn’t identify; anxiety. People were anxious all the time. But you always knew what you were feeling was different. It was like a heavy cloak was resting on your shoulders and you couldn’t get rid of him. Best you could do was pretend. But there would be a day when it wouldn’t be enough. All you needed was something unexpected and too big for you to comprehend to happen and you knew the dikes would break. And it happened…

***

You’re lying on your bed, buried under the blankets while looking at your phone screen. 30 unread messages. Half from your father. You’ll respond to that later. It’s not like anything matters anymore right now. People can wait. You put your phone back on the nightstand and close your eyes. You know you won’t be able to fall asleep. Not without her.

There was a time when your mother would come and hug you, rock you to bed so you could easily fall asleep. What was the name of the song she would sing?

The door of the room opened slowly. The new incomer was greeted with the vision of your silhouette under the sheets, the mess on the floor and the curtains closed. There’s a smell in the room like dust, closeness...not that you don’t mind; you’ve grown used to it by now. But not him.

“You’re going to sleep all day again?”

The only response he gets is the sound of the sheets ruffling around your body. An awkward silence then settled between the two of you. You know he is still there, looking at you from the door with this gaze you don’t want to face again. Finally he sighs and closes the door, leaving you alone with the ghosts from your past.

***

Your body is all sore when you wake up the next day and you stifle a whimper when you tilt your neck to the side. Your throat feels dry and you struggle breathing with your stuffy nose. Even your eyelids feel heavier than usual. How could this day be worse?

You have your answer the moment you step into the kitchen and find Miguel leaning against the counter with a cup of fresh coffee in his hand, reminding you of the last morning you two shared. His eyes land on you the moment you enter the room, studying you from head to toe while he tries his best to stay calm and collected. He doesn’t know why but there’s something in your disheveled appearance that makes his insides tighten and his mouth go dry. Your cheeks are flushed and red and there’s a heat around your body that draws him in. He has to stay still, not let his emotions show on his face but you’re not making it easy. But his eyes also notice the dark circles under your eyes, your puffy, red eyes and the way you look lost, almost haggard… Again, something strong and that he had buried deep inside of him surged to the surface. It’s an instinct that he thought had disappeared long ago.

“Hi…”

“Hey…”, you reply in a small voice while making your way in his direction.

He doesn’t give you the time to reach the coffee machine that he had already turned it on and put your favorite mug underneath. Just when you thought he would resent you for what you said the last day, it seemed like he had forgotten or at least isn’t angry. The two of you watched the cup filling up with coffee in a peaceful silence. Now that you are closer, you can feel the weight of his gaze on you and smell his perfume, which reminds you of the scarf he gave you the last time.

“Hum...I still got your scarf by the way. Maybe you want it back?”

He looks back at you with his usual soft gaze. He doesn’t look angry when you remind him of that day.

“You can keep it if you want.” The two of you almost whisper as if you were afraid of something, something hiding near you. You simply smile back. There’s no way you will keep it, even if that thought doesn’t sound so bad. But maybe you could indulge a bit for now and still keep this small piece of fabric.

A rough cough shakes your body and his gaze narrows.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I think I just caught a small cold…”, you reply while shrugging your shoulders. But he doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer as his fingers reach for yours, making you slowly turn in his direction.

“May I?”

Your body doesn’t move, you don’t try to look away as he slowly puts his hand over your forehead. Your skin feels scorching hot and from closer he can see a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. You have to fight to keep your eyes open. His large palm covers your forehead easily and it feels...nice. His skin is warm from the coffee he had drunk but his fingertips are still cool from the outside, which soothes you a bit.

His eyes watch over your face like any medical professional would do. He notices every sign that you are dealing with a fever, that you’re sick. This is more than a cold, maybe a flu. He can’t help but notice how exhausted you look. Your lips are dry, your cheeks flushed red and a few strands of your hair stick to your dampened skin. Slowly his gaze is not as professional as it should be, not when he spends so many time admiring the slope of your slender neck or the way your dark eyes look like endless wells, deeper and darker than the night.

All he needed was a short touch like this to feel like he was the one under a fever.

The thought of letting his fingers run along your face and then wandering over your body sounds very tempting...but also very dangerous.

Miguel finally removes his hand from your forehead and the slight quivering of your body doesn’t escape to him.

“You have a fever…”, he finally says, trying his best to control the beating of his heart at the same time. “Did you notice any other symptoms?” He tries to sound as professional as he usually does at the clinic he works at, but his voice sounds deeper, a bit more hoarse when he talks to you.

“I feel...itchy there.”, you say pointing at your throat.

“There?”, he asks after a moment of silence while his fingertips reach for you throat. The rough pads of his thumbs draw small circles over your skin and press while he holds the sides of your nape. Your skin feels so hot, he can’t deny how concerned he is. But an other sensation takes over his body as his eyes drift up toward your parted lips. And he immediately hates himself for the image this creates inside his brain…

He finally clears his throat and declares in a solemn voice: “I’ve had a few cases of flu recently and I think you’re not immune to this. You need to rest.”

His fingers finally let go of you and he puts some distance between you. You slowly nod but the small pout of your lips as he tells you to rest doesn’t go unnoticed on his sides. He can’t help thinking that he shouldn’t look this much at your lips, but it seems he can’t help it. He passes a hand through his hair, as if he was tired, and that’s when you notice that despite his put-together look, he seems tired, as tired as you.

“Maybe you could use some rest too…” You could say that but you don’t. It would sound too petty. Instead you grab your cup of coffee and ask: “You’ve been working late?”

The corner of his lips tug upside and he scoffs: “I don’t think I’m the one you should worry about. You already have enough on your plate.”

“I’m fine. It’s just a cold, right? It’ll get away in a few days, like it always does.” You nonchalantly shrug, earning a circumspect look from Miguel. He finally shakes his head.

“If you say so. But please, take some medicine and at least try to rest.”

You stay silent but he can easily read what you’re thinking. He hadn’t known you for long but he feels like you’re not that hard to read into after a few discussions. You’re stubborn and you’re one of these people who can’t sit down for their life and take a break. He used to be like that too, kinda is to this day. And quite ironically, he cares more about your well-being that he would about his. That’s why he knows he shouldn’t push too far with this, so he simply adds:

“At least try, okay? I’ll bring you some antibiotics later.”

“That’s too nice of you.”, you stutter between coughs and he feels like his chest hurts the way yours does when you cough. A simple smile of his settles the conversation.

He didn’t lie when he said he would come back. Miguel did bring you the antibiotics this evening and he even proposed to stay and cook some diner for you and your father. He even cared to make some chicken broth for you, a sweet attention that makes you feel worse. He looks pretty tired and yet, he puts so much energy into this… When he asks you if you need any help to eat, you quickly dismiss him. You’re sick, not impotent.

No one likes being sick, of course but in your case it’s close to a phobia. The taste of the bitter pills, the scent of a doctor’s cabinet, the apathetic way you lie down the couch… You hate all of this and it brings back some memories you didn’t want to face.

***

Her skin that used to be the same shade as yours, a rich and shiny complexion, is now bland, almost too thin like paper… Her luscious hair has disappeared and even if she tries to hide her skin under a scarf, she can’t fool anyone. Not you especially. You know the way her curls travel down the length of her back, rich and bouncy, with this sweet scent; that conditioner that she pretends to ignore the fact you stole some of it.

The woman in front of you is not your mother. It’s someone else, her shadow maybe. But this is not your mother. This is not the woman who could spend hours in the garden working, cutting or simply reading a book, lying on the grass while you would put daisies in her hair. This is not the woman who used to comfort you when you had a nightmare; now that she looks like one. And this is not the elegant and beautiful woman who would always stands out while she was waiting for you in front your school.

You’re old enough to understand what is happening. More than old enough. You’re an adult, you should act like one. It’s what the doctors are saying, what your father’s look says… Ironically the only one who seems to show some empathy to you is your mother. She keeps hugging you, telling you everything is gonna be alright…

But now even this is impossible. Her arms are too thin, like chopsticks and they don’t give off that comforting aura they used to have.

And this is happening in one of those ugly white rooms with the scent of detergent, of cleanliness and that scent is the one of loss to you.

***

You emerge from an other one of these foggy nights. It’s quite hard remembering in detail your dreams, even more with your fever, but you still remember the cold and sanitized look of the room when you wake up this morning.

The scent of fried eggs flow toward your nostrils as you try to prop yourself on your elbow. You’ve been sleeping on the couch, it’s easier to go to the bathroom, and this morning someone is cooking breakfast. It’s not hard to guess who it is…

Miguel must have heard your body shifting under the blankets because he leaves the kitchen with a tray of food, and the dread medications, to make his way to you. He puts down the tray down the coffee table and kneels in front of you, a concerned look on his face. You wonder if you had talked in your dreams. Would it even make sense given your current state?

“How do you feel this morning?”, he asks and you can’t help but reply with a small smile:

“Wonderful.” This doesn’t sound very convincing and his pout makes you chuckle.

Oh, the self-control this moment asks for him. There’s this small curl that hangs on your forehead and that he wants to brush away; those dimples that got him weak in the knees...And yet, he simply shakes his head again before handing you the glass of water and your pills. Your expression shifts to one of disgust, your nose wrinkling slightly.

“You have to take this.”, he says in a slightly amused smile. You reluctantly grab the pill and swallows it. The bitter taste makes you wince and he can’t help but chuckle as he brings the glass to your lips.

His hand instinctively holds the back of your head, propping you up slightly from your pillows. He watches your throat bobbing up and down as you drink, visibly thirsty after that night. Water wets your lips and he finds himself looking at them again. It’s his throat that feels dry now.

“Perfect.”, he whispers in a voice that is a bit raspier than usually before taking the glass away. His fingers still apply a gentle pressure on the back of your head. It’s a comforting sensation, just the way your mother would do when you were sick.

“Do you still take the medications I brought you?”, he asks and you slowly nod. Even if those things are disgusting, you still manage to take them. A small smile flashes upon his lips and he finally helps you lying back the couch.

“What about you?”

“What do you mean?”, he replies with his eyebrows raised.

“How do you feel this morning?”, it’s too early for him to be there. And yet, here he is, already dressed up and ready to help like some guardian angel. He only replies with a small smile:

“I’m feeling better.”

Days go by slowly since you are stuck in bed (or rather the couch), doing nothing but sleeping. It’s not that you didn’t try working, but your eyes simply close after a few sentences as you are dragged into sleep. The only thing that rhythms your days are Miguel’s visits. He is always there in the morning, making breakfast and making sure you take your pills. And in the evening, he comes back home after his day to help you making dinner, also checking on your father.

Home. You have the feeling that he treats your place like his second home, and for some reason it doesn’t bother you. There’s something comforting into knowing that you will always end up seeing him at the end of the day. You’ve stopped living with someone since your last break up and you always thought it wasn’t for you, sharing a domestic space, relying on someone else to do the chores… But Miguel is quite convincing in the role of a caretaker. No wonder the town is grateful for him to be their local doctor.

You finally assumed that he must be living alone since he spends so much time with you and your father. There’s no way someone is waiting for him at home when he is always outside. And you don’t know how you should feel about this.

But one morning, Miguel isn’t here. This fact makes you feel like someone has dropped a heavy rock down your stomach. The house feels...empty. After contemplating the silence for multiple minutes, you finally wake up. Your legs are a bit wobbly but you can tell the medications he has been providing you have an effect on your health. If only they could have on on your sleep schedule…

It’s almost noon when Miguel finally arrives and to your surprise, he looks like he has been in a rush all morning. For the first time since you know him, he looks less like the proper perfect son-in-law look he is always opting for, and more like what he is. An overworked man. He is not wearing one of his usual suits but a simple black outfit, with sweatpants and an oversize flannel. He has traded his lenses for thick frame glasses and he barely had the time to shave, leaving his face covered in a scruff.

He huffs the moment he sees you’re awake and up. But he doesn’t comment; you’re stubborn for sure. Instead he simply slops down the nearest chair, in silence. He just nods to thank you when you put a cup of coffee in front of him. You resume what you were doing, -ie cooking a decent meal, trying to ignore his gaze on you.

“It smells nice.”, he finally says while you stir something in the pan. Your movements are slow since you still seem tired but he can’t tear his gaze away.

“Oh it’s nothing. Just a quick dish I used to make when I was in college.”

He doesn’t reply immediately. College… It’s been so long since he thought about his own years in college. Like it all belongs in an other life. Sometimes he can’t help but thin that there was a before and an after in his life.

“Can I help you?”, he finally asks and just like he expected, you shake your head.

“You should rest a bit. Seems like you had a rough night…”

“I had a night shift at the clinic.” You can’t believe he still works this late at night at his age. No wonder he looks so tired. Miguel passes a hand over his face in a tired gesture before sighing:

“We had an emergency this morning, around 4, that’s why I couldn’t come earlier…”

“Are you trying to apologize?”, you ask with your hands on your hips. “There’s no need to, Miguel.”

The corner of his lips tug into a small grin and he leans back into his chair, as if the weight of something heavy had rested too long on his shoulders: “I promised you I’d be here every morning…”

“Miguel…”, you start with a quiet voice, “I know what it’s like, having a demanding job and all. In fact your job is even more demanding than mine. So, I’m not going to blame you for fulfilling your duty.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, a small grin still lingering on his lips as he listens to your small rant.

“And as I told you, I’m perfectly capable of doing all of this by my own.” You didn’t mean to sound this harsh but it seems like he doesn’t take any offense in this. However, you feel a bit awkward bringing this up again. It’s been a few days since you talked about this and you were planning to apologize for your behavior, not making things worse…

“Sounds like you got your spirit back.”, he simply says, still amused.

“I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better enough to put me back in my place.”

You gruff and his grin only widens. He can hear you mumble something under your breath, something like “I wasn’t trying to put you back in your place…”. And for some reason, this little banter makes him forget every agonizing minute of his night. He gets up and walks toward you, leans against the counter and watches you cooking.

“I mean it, you know. If I ever overstep your boundaries, you need to tell me. I’ve already been told I can be too...paternalistic. Trust me, I won’t take it poorly coming from you.”

The sound of the food frying in the pan is the only thing that can be heard for a few seconds as you try to make the best out of what he said. You wouldn’t call him paternalistic. In fact, he makes you think more of a mother figure than a father. A very protective mother. You finally sigh:

“I just don’t want to take advantage of your kindness.”

This was unexpected for him and he replies in a soft voice:

“You’re not taking advantage of anything.”

“You must think I’m incompetent.” This confession took him even more by surprise. And when you look away, his hand gently grabs yours, making you look back in his direction:

“That’s the last thing I’ve been thinking about you.”

He wishes he could take a picture of this moment of grace. Your dainty hand rests in his larger palm while the soft morning light makes your skin glow in a way he could only qualify of ethereal… Against his better judgment his grip on your fingers tightens and he adds in a quiet voice:

“I’ve heard a lot about you. And I can’t believe that there is a more accomplished, talented and hard-working woman out there.”

You really wanted to believe him; it sounded so tempting and nice. But a small part of you still thought he must be mistaking you for someone else. There’s no way he heard all these sweet things from your father. You have been nothing but a disappointment these last five years, struggling, stuck in what he considered a mediocre job, single and childless… You didn’t accomplish anything that would grant you this type of compliments. And yet, Miguel’s words sounded so sincere.

“You’re just flattering me at this point.”, you reply with a small smile.

“I’m not.” His voice was laced with solemnity. A lump had formed in his throat and he found it harder to say anything else. But he knew he would have loved showing you what true flattering, real praise was like…

Miguel finally let go of your hands and you caught his fingers flexing slightly, all stretched out as he brought them back to his side. The silence that followed this moment, moment that you didn’t dare to put a name on, was heavier it seems; charged with many untold words. Finally you were the one breaking the silence:

“You can set the table if you want.”

A bright smile curled up his lips as he replied: “I’m always glad to help.”

=============================================

Notes: Today's chapter is a bit slower but I can guarantee you things will move forward soon for our two protagonists...

Taglist: @safixiovi @laysmt

My Master list

<part 4 / next part >

[izicodes]

Tuesday 12th December 2023

End of September: I quit my first proper tech job after 2 years.

End of October: I applied for university on a whim and got a place.

Start of December: Randomly got a new tech job without searching.

God blessing me left, right, and center?! That's just a summary of what's been happening the past few months. I will go into more detail below~!

Here are some tips for talking to people on LinkedIn: post 💕

If you're wondering how I got here in terms of my coding journey: video | post 💕

End of September

I quit my job because it was getting tiring and I couldn't see any chance of me developing there. I will forever be grateful for the opportunity to do my apprenticeship with them and then go on to become their Jr Web Developer - but from there, everything felt static. When the projects being given were getting absolutely boring, I knew then I needed some kind of change. So, I just quit. I said on a Monday I was quitting and that same Friday, I left. Politely and respectfully, of course.

End of October

I was so random how I did this but my Dad suggested for me to apply to university. I told him I didn't even have the right qualifications they wanted. He said "Bet". We looked at the local universities and none mentioned any apprenticeship certifications but mentioned work experience in the field. I applied with that knowledge. Wrote the cringiest personal statement about why the universities should accept me - and it worked. I got into the university of my city which seemed super prestigious to me, 18-year-old me would be screaming that I got a place at the university that I deemed for super smart people.

I made a post about it: link 💕

Start of December

My plan now was to wait until university next September 2024. I planned to relax, level up my current skills by myself or helping via volunteering, and maybe get a few certificates (because I love my name on certificates), and, most importantly: catch up on some anime shows - which I did complete:

Ushio & Tora: 2nd Season

Hunter x Hunter

Vinland Saga

JOJO Part 5 (again)

Jujutsu Kaisen 2nd Season (still watching)

Basically, I was supposed to relax until around February time, then start looking for a new job - tech or non-tech.

!! At this point, I was not looking for a new job !!

Last Tuesday I got a message from a recruiter on LinkedIn saying my profile was cool and would love to help me get an interview for a Frontend Software Engineer position in the city. I had a hunch to tell him I was okay and wasn't looking for a new job right now, but I was getting bored recently and this to me was an exciting new thing to do, so I said yeah why not!

The meeting was on the following Thursday and I met the IT manager. He liked me (same back to him) and wanted me to meet the team next Monday (yesterday). Afterward, I was feeling "Oh wait this is getting serious, I'm only here on a whim, like I'm actually doing good?" so I thought "Okay let's make an effort on the next 'interview'!!".

Monday came and I met the funniest set of people ever in a tech team. Then I thought "Lowkey highkey... would be so cool to work here~!" and the feedback I got was really positive. I got the job. Today I talked to their HR to finalise things.

All of this is thanks to the Almighty God, Lord Jesus, and the Holy Spirit of course~~! 🥰🙏🏾☦️