#this turned out longer than i expected oops but i had fun writing about it!

[airenyah]

A LOOK AT STYLE'S JOURNEY | Ep 12

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7 | Ep8 | Ep9 | Ep10 | Ep11)

Oof, so this took me forever to write. A week and a half. But now it's finally here, the final post of this meta series. And yes, I did hit 20k words by the finale, oops. The analysis part alone is at 20.1k words. In total, this meta series is at 150k words. When I wrote that very first post about episodes 1+2 in on single sitting, pulling an all-nighter to both write, gif, and publish it I never expected it to turn into this huge project that has become. Don't ask how much sleep I was getting while I was writing these metas. And don't ask how my studies have been going since early December (I was gonna write two exams a week from me publishing this but I haven't done any studying so far whatsoever rip). Totally worth it, though. Anyway, I don't wanna keep you on your toes any longer, so have fun <3

By the way, I apologize in advance, but the section cover pics had to go for this one. Instead I bring you.... more gifs! Yay!

Acknowledgments: To everyone who regularly liked and/or reblogged and/or commented... THANK YOU 😘 Your encouragement really kept me going over these past few weeks, even when my brain was feeling really exhausted from thinking so long and so hard about this series and especially this character. I had a blast going on this journey and I'm glad I got to share it with you. Thank you for coming on this journey with me. I love you.

Pronoun situation: As usual, just assume Fadel and Style use the rude pronouns guu/mueng with each other unless I specify otherwise. And I WILL be specifying otherwise this time hehe.

To recap: Last episode Style got to spend a lovely 24 hours of saying goodbye to Fadel before the one thing that Style has been dreading the most (safe for Fadel's death, probably) happened: Fadel got arrested. And there's nothing Style could do about it but watch. And now he has to live with the fact that his boyfriend will be in prison for the next five long years.

No. 1: Visitors

Kant and Style go visit their boys in prison together and it seems to be their first visit in general, considering how both couples are catching up. We don't know how long it's been since they last saw each other, but I assume it must have been more than just a couple of days, since we later learn that the burger restaurant has already been sold.

Either way, Style is now sitting in front of Fadel, asking him how prison is. Fadel says it's not that bad and Style checks in once more to make sure Fadel is really fine: "Really? You sure you're not saying that just to make me happy? I've seen some interviews, and the people who have been here said it was awful."

After all, Style knows Fadel and he knows Fadel is prone to pretending that everything is fine when really, it isn't. Style even called Fadel out on it in episode 7: "Just admit when it hurts. You don't have to be tough all the time." Back then Style also told Fadel: "I'm worried about you, you know? I was afraid something would happen to you.*"

*กลัวมึงเป็นไรไปอ่ะ [gluua - mueng - bpen rai - bpai - àh] afraid - you - have a problem - [particle] Official subs: I thought you were a goner.

Now, about half a series later Fadel is finally very well aware of just how much Style worries about his well-being and, with a laugh, reassures him once more that prison really isn't that bad. Style lets it go and tells Fadel: "I really miss you, though." And let me just share what I learned when I asked my Thai friend about the phrase ก็...อยู่ดี [gôh ... yùu dii], because I wasn't entirely sure what it meant: according to my friend it means "still" (German speakers: he translated it as "immer noch"), so the line goes more like:

But I still miss you. แต่กูก็คิดถึงมึงอยู่ดีนะ [dtàe - guu - gôh - kít-tĕung - mueng - yùu dii - ná] but - I - miss - you - still - [na]

They've been separated for a while now, but Style still misses Fadel. Style hasn't stopped missing Fadel. Fadel acknowledges that and tells him "When you do, just come visit." And for those curious about the literal wording (it doesn't really change anything, but I know you guys love this <3):

If you miss me, then come visit me like this. ถ้ามึงคิดถึงกูอ่ะ ก็มาหากูแบบนี้นะ [tâa - mueng - kít-tĕung - guu - àh • gôh - maa hăa - guu - bàep níi - ná] if - you - miss - me - [particle] • then - come visit - me - like this - [particle]

Style doesn't say anything. He just smiles at Fadel fondly and in love. Fadel didn't preemptively break up with him last episode and even though there is a barrier between them, Style can still go see Fadel and Fadel also wants Style to come see him. It's not ideal, but things could have been much worse, so Style is happy and also makes the best out of the situation. Just like he always does.

Fadel then asks about the garage and it's the first time we learn that Style's dad is starting to retire and that Style is starting to be busy. This will come up later in the episode again, but for now everyone is still happy. Then Fadel asks about his burger restaurant and both we, the audience, and Fadel learn that it's been sold. Fadel then says he'll find a way to buy it back once he's out of prison and once again we're handed information that will be relevant later in the episode.

Style being Style immediately announces that he'll be helping Fadel find a new place, if he can't get back the old one. And now it's Fadel's turn to smile at Style fondly and in love. Style then asks if Fadel wants anything special. But Fadel doesn't need anything. "Just seeing your face will last me a whole month." And again, the literal wording doesn't really change anything here, but if you're curious, this is what he's saying:

Just you visiting me like this makes me happy for a month. แค่มึงมาหากูแบบเนี��ย กูก็อิ่มใจเป็นเดือนละ [kâe - mueng - maa hăa - guu - bàep nîia • guu - gôh - ìm-jai - bpen deuuan - lá] just - you - come visit - me - like this • I - [sentence link] - happy, pleased - for a month - [particle]

Fadel uses the word อิ่มใจ [ìm-jai] here (which I translated as "happy") and that's funny to me personally, because this word already came up when I was discussing a different sentence from episode 11 with my Thai friend. You know when Fadel and Style are in the kitchen in episode 11 and Fadel talks about how he wants to do what he loves with the person he loves? And then he says "It makes me happy". The word that was translated as "happy" in Thai is อิ่ม [ìm], which actually translates to "full". And I had my friend watch the scene and asked "What does he mean 'full', what does that mean in this context??" and my friend explained that in this context it means "happy" and mentioned the word อิ่มใจ [ìm-jai], which he also explained to mean "happy". The literal translation, though, is actually "full heart" (as in the heart is full → you're happy). And then this exact word that I learned comes up in episode 12, I love it. So yeah, Fadel is basically telling Style that he doesn't need anything, because Style visiting him in prison is enough to make is heart full/fill up his heart for a month. And from the way Fadel raises his eyebrows and smiles cheekily when he says the อิ่มใจ [ìm-jai] part, I assume it's just as cheesy in Thai as it is in English, especially judging by Style's reaction afterwards.

Style is amused, impressed, as well as touched by Fadel's cheesiness and asks: "What did they feed you in there? How come you're this sweet?*"

*ทำไมถึงหวานขนาดเนี้ย [tam-mai tĕung - wăan - kà-nàat níia] how come, why - sweet - to this extent Official subs: You're way too sweet.

If you read last episode's meta you might remember how I went over the development to from โหด [hòht] (= harsh, aggressive, brutal) to หวาน [wăan] (= sweet) and I just love how this time around, the word โหด [hòht] doesn't even get mentioned anymore. They went from Style using only the word โหด [hòht] in episode 4 ("No matter how harsh you are, I'm still hooked on you." / Official subs: "It doesn't matter how scary you are, I'm still hooked."), to them making comments about and discussing Fadel being both harsh (โหด [hòht]) and sweet (หวาน [wăan]) in episodes 7, 9, and 11, and now in the finale Style only uses the word หวาน [wăan] (= sweet). It's the polar opposite of episode 4. I love it.

(By the way, I'm not gonna copy and paste all the direct quotes again, so if you wanna look at the lines and the development of "harsh vs sweet" in detail, please refer to section 7 of my ep11 meta.)

Style continues to say "If you say such sweet things, it'll only make me want to hold you and kiss you even more, you know?" and I'm just gonna share the literal wording again:

The sweeter like this you are ยิ่งมึงหวานแบบเนี่ย [yîng - mueng - wăan - bàep nîia] the more - you - sweet - like this the more I really want to embrace you and (sniff) kiss you on the cheek, you know that? กูยิ่งอยากกอดอยากหอมมึงมากเลยรู้ป่ะ [guu - yîng - yàak - gòht - yàak - hŏhm - mueng - mâak loiie - rúu - bpà] I - the more - want - hug, embrace - want - (sniff) kiss - you - very much - know - ?

In the official subtitles Style says just "kiss you", but the word he uses here in Thai is หอม [hŏhm] which, from what I've picked up so far, usually refers specifically to a kiss on the cheek, especially those sniff-kisses. And that's what prompts Fadel to turn his head and offer his cheek to Style — because Style specifically asked to kiss Fadel's cheek.

Also, something about the way Style says this and the way he emphasizes and drags out the word หอม [hŏhm] kind of really reminds me of the way he emphasized and dragged out the word หวาน [wăan] (= sweet) when he shouted "My meat is sweet, I tell you!" in episode 3, and watching these two lines back-to-back actually shows the development so beautifully:

In episode 3, Style is so very loud and he doesn't mean what he is saying at all, he isn't taking his words seriously whatsoever. His words are a performance and the world (or rather the market, in this case) is his audience. In episode 11, his words are still a performance, but now it's a private show for Fadel and Fadel alone. Fadel is the sole member of his audience and what Style is saying isn't meant for anyone else but Fadel. Style is serious about it now and he really means it. By the episode 12, Style is still loud in his personality, but compared to episode 3 his demeanor is so much calmer and he is also much more grounded.

The difference is also in Fadel's reaction: in episode 3 when Style isn't taking what he's saying and doing seriously whatsoever, Fadel doesn't have time for him. He rolls his eyes and just leaves him standing there. In episode 12, when Style means every single thing he says and does, Fadel actually leans closer and then presents his cheek to Style, going along with Style's antics instead of blocking or ditching him. Style blows a cheek at Fadel and we leave them as they continue to make heart-eyes at each other.

No. 2: This Is Torture

Style puts on his cheerful face when he's in front of Fadel, and while I don't think any of the above was a mask, because I think he is definitely genuinely happy to talk to Fadel, there is still some frustration that Style only lets out as soon as he's away from Fadel, similar to how he didn't fully cry until Fadel was completely gone at the end of last episode. "Kant, I can't do this," Style complains and let me just share the real vibe of his sentence:

Ai'Kant, I can't fucking do this anymore. ไอ้กานต์ กูแม่งไม่ไหวแล้วว่ะ [âi Kant • guu - mâeng - mâi - wăi - láew - wâ] Ai'Kant • I - [rude interjection] - not - able to, can - anymore - [rude particle]

I usually don't bother to point out sanitized subtitles, but here I thought it was appropriate, because first of all, Style using curse words and rude language really underlines just how frustrated he really is about this from his first line of the scene on and second of all, to me with the cursing it comes across as even more dramatic and I mean, the drama is what we've all come to love about Style, isn't it? Kant agrees and once again Style is much more dramatic in the original wording than he is in the official translation:

What's torturous is going in and being able to chat only for a few minutes. ที่มันทรมานอ่ะ คือเข้าไปคุยได้ไม่กี่นาทีไง [tîi - man - tor-rá-maan - àh • keu - kâo bpai - kui - dâai - mâi gìi -naa-tii - ngai] that - it - torture, be tortured - [particle] • is - enter, get in - talk, chat - be able to, can - not many - minute(s) - [particle] Official subs: The worst part is only getting a few minutes to talk to him.

Yeah. Style explicitly calls it torture that he can only see Fadel's face but can't touch him. He continues with the drama:

We're close, but so damn far away. ใกล้แต่ไกลฉิบหายเลยมึง [glâi - dtàe - glai - chìp-hăai - loiie - mueng] close - but - far - [impolite intensifier] - [particle for emphasis] - you Official subs: We’re so close but it feels so far.

Style is frustrated, almost downright angry even. Kant agrees again and when Style then asks "Is there no way we could hold them in our arms again?" There's a hint of desperation and impatience now mixed in with the frustration. Kant informs Style that there's a special visiting day, but it's only once a year. And here we have the biggest clue as to just how unhappy Style really is with the situation. Style, who usually stays optimistic and tries to find the bright side in things, is very dissatisfied about those news. Even positive Style can't see how the special visiting day is a good thing. Because once a year just really isn't enough, no matter how he looks at it. Kant throws him a glance. Style is sitting in the passenger's seat, head downcast, looking very dispirited and crestfallen.

Kant thinks some thoughts for a moment. Then he announces "I think I have an idea that will give us more than just a hug." Style lifts his head again. He's listening.

No. 3: Prison Break

For Kant's idea to work they need Captain Christ's help and they go meet him in a parking lot. They let Captain Christ know they wanna get into jail to see their boyfriends and Captain Christ actually asks the reasonable question of "Can't you just visit them?" No. They cannot. Because looking at them through a barrier is simply just not enough. Style starts listing all the things he wants to do to Fadel and he's clearly thought about this a lot. He gets lost in his own world a little the longer he goes on, clearly seeing everything he's describing in front of his mental eye, clearly seeing Fadel himself in front of his mental eye. And in a parallel to both episode 4 and episode 11, Style trails off at the end, leaving it up to the audience to imagine just what exact kind of things Style wants to do to/with Fadel (fanfiction, anyone?). Style pulls himself out of his fantasy and back into the real world, sighing and shaking his head in a way that reads to me like frustration about the fact that he can't be doing all of that. Kind of like Come on, man, get it together... The circumstances won't let you have your fantasies anyway. When the shot changes to Captain Christ, we can see that Style is even looking towards the ground. We can't see his face, but just from his dissatisfied expression just now we could interpret his hanging head as disappointment or sadness or both about not being able to do all the things he just talked about.

Captain Christ says that Style is crazy in love and from the way that Captain raises his eyebrows and the way the corners of his mouth twitch into a bit of a smirk when he's done speaking has me think Captain Christ was saying it to tease Style, but I think the teasing passes right by Style, because he makes a skeptical face, kind of like a bit of an annoyed and maybe slightly defensive What?? or maybe even a bit of an And what's wrong with that?

Captain Christ discards his cigarette and starts asking questions about just how exactly Kant and Style plan to get into prison, pointing out that he had just helped Kant wipe his slate clean. Kant explains that they aren't planning on getting themselves arrested and asks if Captain Christ knows anyone inside. Captain Christ says he does, then asks: "Don't tell me you want me to help you reenact Prison Break?"

Special shout-out to Style's reaction, because it's definitely in my top 5 moments of the episode, if not my absolute favorite highlight of the episode:

His face makes me laugh and giggle so much, it just really cracks me up. It's like he's thinking to himself Oh I sure wouldn't mind a little prison break... or maybe even Oh this is totally not the exact thing I've been fantasizing about. Let's be real, this would be Style's ideal scenario. But unlucky for Style, that's not the plan that Kant has had in mind.

No. 4: Vocational Training

Kant's idea was to go do some kind of volunteer work (or something along those lines) at the prison. Style, of course, teaches fixing cars, and it's interesting that Fadel actually shows up for that, because without knowing Style was gonna be the one teaching, Fadel could have easily chosen a different activity instead, since we never actually saw him be interested in fixing cars. Maybe Fadel heard about it and it made him think of Style and decided to go check it out in honor of him or to feel closer to him. Either way, Fadel actually shows up to Style's class and from the way Style's jaw drops a little bit I wonder, if this comes as a surprise to Style, since it's not like Style specifically told Fadel he was gonna come in.

Pronoun change! You might have noticed yourself, but the very first thing Style says to Fadel is khun. Style is pretending not to know Fadel. Style continues to speak using no pronouns at all and when Fadel answers, he goes along with Style's pronoun change, using phom to refer to himself. The two of them continue to use the polite phom/khun for the rest of this specific conversation.

Fadel says he doesn't know anything about fixing cars and Style replies it's fine, because Fadel can learn about it. Then he says "If you want to, that is." The expression that Style uses here in Thai is มีใจ [mii jai] which is made up of มี [mii] = "to have" and ใจ [jai] = "heart, mind", so literally it translates to "have (a/the) heart". My friend explained that in this context this phrase means "to have the intention to do something". The funny thing is, though, that I asked my friend about this specific phrase a couple of episodes ago, because Style actually uses it when they're standing by the broken down car in episode 8 when he teases Fadel "Either a hitman like you still have his humanity, or you’re in love with me." In other words, the phrase มีใจ [mii jai] can also mean "to be in love" and now I'm wondering if this specific word choice with this double meaning was very intentional for this episode 12 scene. Especially because Fadel then huffs and smiles a little.

Style walks up to Fadel and tells him "I'll show you every nook and cranny of a car. You'll definitely find some use for what you learn from me. But if you still can't fix cars after that, I'll fix them for you," still using polite pronouns and particles to address Fadel, and somehow this whole thing just really reminds me of their little roleplay at the garage back in episode 5. The way Fadel's eyebrows shoot up and he huffs in amusement really raises the question if Fadel is wondering what kind of payment Style will take for fixing Fadel's car. At the same time, Style offering to fix Fadel's car also works as a callback to the circumstances in which they first met: Style has fixed Fadel's car once before, maybe even twice, if we assume that Style fixed the jeep again between episode 8 and episode 9 when it broke down.

No. 5: A Man Has Wants, A Man Has Needs

At the end of class, Fadel is working on the car and Style uses the chance with everyone else distracted for a little private chat with Fadel. And now that they don't have an audience listening in and appearances to keep up, they're both back to the rude pronouns guu/mueng. Fadel likely sort of already expected that Style would find a way to get to him, because he says he had thought Style would do something illegal to get inside the prison and I think the majority of the fandom thought similarly. I personally realized Kant and Style would be working in prison when I went to rewatch the episode promo like two or so days before the episode and realized that the blue clothes that Fadel was wearing in the shots where Style kissed him on the cheek and threw him against the wall looked like the prison uniform while Style was in normal clothes. At first I thought the shot of the cheek kiss by the car was when Fadel was out of prison again and that it was set in Style's garage, but once it hit me that they were clearly fixing a car while Fadel was in a prison uniform while Style wasn't, that's when I realized that Style was likely there as a volunteer worker (or something along those lines) rather than a prisoner. Unfortunately, I was too busy trying to get my ep11 meta done, so I didn't make a post about my discovery which means I don't have receipts and this brag is completely worthless. Ah, well. At least my ep11 meta is done.

Style says "This is way better" and steps closer to Fadel, reaching out his arm right into Fadel's personal space, seeking proximity before he even says it out loud or touches Fadel at all. Fadel responds to it by immediately moving his own arm closer to Style's hand and while I know that Joong most likely did this as part of their "choreography" so that Dunk would have an easier time grabbing his arm for when Style talks about touching Fadel, the thing is if we're looking at it from the character's perspective, well, Joong might have known Dunk was gonna grab his arm, but Fadel didn't know Style was gonna grab him and so I love this small interaction anyway. Style reaches into Fadel's personal space with his hand and Fadel immediately moves his own hand closer to Style.

And it's only then that Style says: "I get to be close to you and to touch you just like I wanted to." Then Style sneaks a kiss on Fadel's cheek, just like he said he wanted to do in his first scene of the episode. Fadel gets as stressed about it just like I did when I watched the episode for the first time. I mean come on, Style, there are still people around!! I swear to god, the amount of times I've had to remind myself during the prison part that this was a romcom and that this was the final episode of the show and that nothing too bad was gonna happen now...

Fadel scolds Style, but Style doesn't care. He points out: "Why would I come here if I don't get to do anything with you at all?" The whole point of finding a way to get inside the prison was to be able to touch Fadel, to kiss him, to hold him, just like Style was so very desperately wishing he could do in the very beginning of the episode. And he's not gonna pass up that chance, especially when it's been a while since he actually got to feel Fadel's skin.

Fadel sees the guard walk around and tells Style "I can't help you." Then Fadel continues to be grumpy, scolding Style "You said you'd be patient, and you're already losing it?" Style is so used to Fadel's grumpy personality by now that he isn't fazed in the slightest. He comments it with a very quick huff to the side, then goes "A guy has wants and needs, you know?" He smiles a little when the words are out of his mouth and observes Fadel's reaction, eyes fixed on him attentively. Fadel lifts his head, looking a little done, but ends up breaking anyway after staring at Style for a moment. Fadel laughs and turns his head away to hide it, then looks at Style one more time, before directing his attention back to the car. Style watches him with a fond smile and affectionately shakes his head as if to say That's so you of you to first be grumpy, only to fall for my charm in the end anyway, you silly goose. As if I don't know you by now, my love.

After that, Style goes back into teacher mode in order to officially end the class. And I just love how the wide-shot reveals that now both Style and Fadel have their hands in each other's personal space close to the other person's body, their arms criss-crossed. And I also love how Style leans right into Fadel, touching him more when he goes to address the whole class.

Good job at pretending not to know each other, boys. Really. Very inconspicuous.

Fadel does move away from Style a little a moment later while Style continues his "see you next week" speech. But we can still see just how much Style missed touching Fadel, because he seeks out proximity again by tapping Fadel, casually touching him again immediately after he is done ending the class.

Then his eyes also find Fadel's face again, who looks at him very amused. And now that class is over, Style can finally do what he's really here for.

No. 6: Loyal to You

When we cut back to them, they've found a hidden corner and Style is shoving Fadel against a wall, kissing him with great urgency. Once they break apart, Style tells Fadel "I've been dying to do that since the moment I saw you", smiling a very satisfied smile. Fun fact, this time around Style is actually less dramatic in the original wording:

I've been wanting to do this since I saw your face. กูอยากทำแบบนี้ตั้งแต่เห็นหน้ามึงอ่ะ [guu - yàak - tam - bàep níi - dtâng-dtàe - hĕn - nâa mueng - àh] I - want - do - like this - since - see - your face - [particle]

Fadel laughs and says "You're crazy", to which Style replies "Love will make people do crazy things" and let me just share the original wording for a second:

Love makes us do something crazy like this. ความรักอ่ะ ทำให้คนเราทำอะไรบ้าๆ แบบนี้แหละ [kwaam rák - àh • tam hâi - kon rao - tam - à-rai - bâa bâa - bàep níi - làe] love - [particle] • make that, cause - people, we - do - something - crazy - like this - [particle] Official subs: Love will make people do crazy things.

The reason why I'm sharing this isn't, because the translation is inaccurate in any way, but rather because this line reminded me of another line Style says in episode 7 and I just want to point out the similarity in the original wording that isn't as clean in the official translation:

Love makes us do something stupid. ความรักมันทำให้คนเราทำอะไรโง่ๆนะ [kwaam rák - man - tam hâi - kon rao - tam - à-rai - ngôh ngôh - ná] love - it - make that, cause - people, we - do - something - stupid - [particle] Official subs: Love sure makes you do something stupid.

It greatly amuses me that Style went from "Love makes us do stupid things" to "Love makes us do crazy things". Style, lover of love, willing to do stupid and crazy things for the sake of love. He is stupid and crazy enough to even find a way to get into prison for the sole purpose of making out with his boyfriend, because who can wait five whole years, amirite? Style immediately proves his point by continuing to kiss Fadel. But Fadel doesn't let Style kiss him for long, because he has something to say: "Save your sweet words." Funfact, he uses the word นำเน่า [nam nâo] here, which my friend explained to mean "soapy" (as in soap opera like). I think Fadel just called Style "dramatic" without actually calling him dramatic, and I think that might also be the reason why Style steps back with a sigh, looking kind of disappointed and annoyed, before answering Fadel's question of "How did you get in here?"

We know being called dramatic has been a touchy subject for Style before and so has been being pushed away. I think Style had a moment of Does he really not appreciate that I'm here now? Does he not appreciate my efforts? But Style doesn't comment on it, doesn't start an argument, and instead answers Fadel's question. He explains that he'll be teaching at prison every week now thanks to Kant's connections and then says:

I'll get to come and see you every week. จะได้มาเจอมึงทุกอาทิตย์เลย [jà - dâai - maa - jer - mueng - túk - ah-tít - loiie] will - get to - come - see, meet - you - every - week - [particle] Official subs: So I'll see you every week.

Although when Style says this, it's not as joyful as you might expect. There is determination in Style's voice, because he is determined to do this, but there is also a bit of a challenging edge to it and I think it comes from his sudden worry that Fadel might not want him here after all. It's a challenge in the sense of Well, are you happy about me being here once a week from now on or not? He keeps his eyes fixed on Fadel and when Fadel then huffs and smiles almost in disbelief, the look on Style's face softens a little bit before he leans in to kiss Fadel again.

But once more, Fadel isn't letting Style kiss him for long, before he speaks again: "You know… You don’t have to do this." Style goes still as he waits for Fadel to elaborate. And Fadel does:

It's fine if you visit me once a month or once every three months. มาหากูเดือนละครั้งหรือสามเดือนครั้งก็ได้ [maa hăa - guu - deuuan lá kráng - rĕu - săam deuuan kráng - gôh dâai] (come) visit - me - once a month - or - once every three months - it's fine Official subs: I don't mind seeing you once a month or once every three months.

Ah. There it is. Fadel is pushing him away again. Or so Style thinks. Of course Fadel is saying this to be considerate of Style's time and schedule (after all, Style did tell him that things at the garage were getting busy), not wanting Style to get tired and exhausted in the process, but what Style hears is I don't want to see you that often. And now Style is seriously done.

He steps back, tilting his face in a Really, now?? way, presses his lips together unhappily, then raises his eyebrows and firmly tells Fadel: "I did everything I could to be with you, you know?" Style's next question is another challenge to Fadel:

Are you not moved? ไม่ซึ้งบ้างหรอ [mâi - séung - bâang - rŏr] not - touched, moved - any - ? Official subs: You don’t appreciate that?

Fadel breathes out loudly and tilts his head like Oh, come on, it's not like that. But Style is really annoyed now and continues to say: "Or did you already find someone here? I'd expect it of a popular guy like you." You heard him use the anglicism "hot" here, right? Because the second sentence goes more like:

You're hot anyway. ฮอตอยู่แล้วนี่มึงอ่ะ [hot - yùu - láew - nîi - mueng - àh] hot - be - already - [interjection] - you - [particle]

A little extra info from my Thai friend: according to him in Thai this word doesn't necessarily refer to someone's appearance and to physical attraction, but rather it is used to express someone has a quality or skill that is desirable.

Now I think Style actually being jealous for real can be a valid interpretation of him asking Fadel if he found someone new in prison, but to be honest, personally I don't really think so, or rather I think real jealousy is the case only on a surface level. Because Style knows Fadel, Style knows that Fadel doesn't easily open up to others. Style knows first hand how much work, effort, and persistence it takes to get to Fadel's heart. Style also knows Fadel would absolutely kill him if Style ever cheated on him and so I don't think Style would expect Fadel to be a hypocrite and go cheat on Style just like that himself. So I don't think Style actually expects Fadel to have found himself a new boyfriend in prison for real. No, in my opinion this is about something else deep down. I think Style is actually hurt that Fadel is (seemingly) pushing him away again, the way Fadel has done before so often. And Style has felt hurt from that before, and he's argued with Fadel about that before (most recently last episode during their last supper, and in episode 10 the scene where Style demands to help with the mission as well as the scene where Fadel cries in Style's lap). And I think playing it over apparent jealousy is Style's way of letting Fadel know that he's sulking about this, without starting a full-blown argument. Because at this point Fadel should know better than to keep pushing Style away, especially when Style is putting in so much effort in their relationship again. And part of me also wonders if Style was trying to avoid being called "dramatic" again (remember: touchy subject) if he had outright complained about being pushed away, while jealousy could maybe be taken as a "more valid" or more expected or acceptable reason to be mad.

Style starts to walk off, upset, because fine, if Fadel doesn't want him here then he'll leave him alone. But Fadel catches his arm. Style is sulking and it's Fadel's job now to make up with him. And Fadel does: "No matter where I am, you're the only one for me." Fadel holds him back, pulls him back in, doesn't simply just let Style go. And then promises his loyalty to Style. Something that Style has promised to Fadel many, many times. Fadel's efforts to get Style to stay placate Style again. This is all Style wants: for Fadel to show that he, too, wishes for Style to be in his life and be willing to work for it, the same way Style constantly shows he wishes for Fadel to be and actively works on Fadel being by his side. Style's face softens again, he smiles a little and lets Fadel kiss him.

They go back to making out against the wall. Well. That is, until the prison guard walks in on them. They quickly jump apart and Style rambles some orders about cleaning up, before walking off. And I love that Style can't help but touch Fadel one last time, before he leaves. He really has gone too long without touching Fadel and has to make up for it now.

Language fun fact: Technically, a pronoun switch from guu/mueng to phom/khun isn't actually happening here, because Style actually uses no pronouns at all when he talks to Fadel in front of the guard! Fadel does drop one polite "krub", but that's about it. There are no pronouns this time, but I think it's safe to assume they would have switched to phom/khun again in front of the guard, if the conversation had gone on.

Side Quest: Year 2 or Literal Horny Jail

Alright, sooo, there isn't that much interesting happening in year 2, or rather not interesting enough that I really wanna get into detail and turn this into its own section, but of course I couldn't leave it entirely unaddressed. So a side quest, it is. The brothers' second year in prison turns out to be a happy one, with both couples really obsessed with each other as if they'd only just started dating, sneaking kisses and make-out sessions whenever they can. Somehow, they're never found out. Everyone is happy and pleased, and this is especially significant for Fadel and Style. They're happy and in love and still very much into each other. We don't actually get any scenes of Fadel and Style together during year 3, but I think it's safe to assume that things are going this well throughout the third year, too. Well, until things aren't. Until suddenly we get dropped down to the ground from the high that we had just been taken up to.

No. 7: Busy Bee

Year 4 comes around and with that all the happiness gets thrown right out the window. Because Style, without a warning, suddenly doesn't show up to class one day and instead waits for Fadel in the visiting room. When Fadel walks in, Style addresses him happily, but his happiness is not as bright as we know it can be, it's a bit subdued. Style asks why Fadel took so long and I think it explains why Style doesn't sound as cheerful as usual: I think while Style was waiting, for a moment he got really worried that Fadel wouldn't come to see him.

By the way, yes, Style did phrase it as a question in the original wording:

Why were you so slow? ทำไมช้าจังเลย [tam-mai - cháa - jang loiie] why - slow, late - so much, very much Official subs: Took you forever.

Fadel explains he went to the garage first, but Style wasn't there. Style apologizes for it, then explains he's been very busy. Style had already mentioned at the beginning of the episode that he was busier compared to before, and now he's even more busy than that. So busy that he might not be able to come in and teach as often anymore. He tells Fadel just that and looks at him with sad, apologetic puppy eyes.

Fadel asks why that is and when Style answers, he puts on a very enthusiastic voice in an attempt to make the situation sound as positive as possible. Style explains that he's in charge of the garage now that his dad is retired and updates Fadel on how he's thinking of expanding the business and how he has a lot of projects going on that allowed him to meet more people in the industry. Style's little mechanic world is getting bigger for him, isn't that exciting? Style just wants to share the joy of his good news with Fadel.

Fadel nods a bit unenthusiastically and says "That's good. It's alright. I understand" and I think Style can tell that in reality Fadel is upset just as much as the audience can, even if it might not immediately seem like he can tell:

Style continues to smile, but it's like he's putting down the enthusiasm that he's just put on, and he looks at Fadel. Style is always looking at Fadel. And Style has become an expert at reading Fadel. There is no way Fadel's disappointment passed right by Style, even if his expression stays positive and affectionate and full of love. Style doesn't say anything and I think he's actually waiting to see if Fadel will fall back into his old patterns and usual downward spirals again. And I think Style keeps his expression joyful and warm in order to give Fadel as little reason to think that Style doesn't care about him anymore. But the trauma sits deep within Fadel, leading him to say: "You don't have to come here to teach, you know?"

This is the exact reaction that Style was expecting of Fadel and we can tell, because Style is immediately ready to calm Fadel's anxiety without missing a beat: "Don't worry. I'll make time for it." It's really not that big of a deal. And in case it is a big deal, Style has already thought of a solution, a compromise: "But if I can't, I'll just come visit you instead." Because let's be real, Style would miss Fadel just as much and wouldn't want to miss out on seeing Fadel's face. "Is that okay?" he asks. Do we have a deal? Fadel stares at Style for a second, then nods awkwardly, but looks very unconvinced and doesn't say anything. Style raises his eyebrows a little, then leans back, keeping his eyes fixed on Fadel.

As I said above, I think Style could already tell Fadel was upset a few lines earlier, but I think this is the moment where he realizes that Fadel is more upset than Style had initially thought and that Fadel isn't gonna be easy to cheer up about this. It really does seem to be a big deal to Fadel. So much so, that Style now chooses to address it after all: "What's wrong? Are you mad at me?" And I adore how Style continues to interact with Fadel in such a loving, kind way and continues to smile at him warmly.

Style isn't attacking Fadel when he asks Fadel if he's mad, instead he's reaching out to him kindly and in a way that makes it very clear that Style is asking out of concern for Fadel's well-being and not because he's trying to start an argument. In fact, Style is very much trying to not start an argument right now. Fadel says he isn't mad at Style. "I understand you have to live your life. I'm in here so there's nothing I can do but wait." And that's when Style's smile finally falls completely.

I think part of him is concerned for Fadel and his mental state, and part of him is also worried where this might be going. I think the underlying question here is Are you... about to preemptively push me away again because you're falling into a downward spiral again?

Fadel continues. "Style, I think..." Style's face is very serious now as he listens to Fadel to find out where this is headed. Fadel says "Our timing just wasn't right at all" or word for word:

We met at the wrong place at the wrong time. เราเจอกันผิดที่ผิดเวลาไปหน่อยว่ะ [rao - jer gan - pìt - tîi - pìt - weh-lah - bpai nòi - wâ] we - meet each other - wrong - place - wrong - time - too little - [particle]

Style is quiet for a moment and I think now there is also a hint of fear added to the seriousness in his expression as well as confusion.

I think Style does very much understand that Fadel really is in the process of pushing him away again, but I think he's confused about what exactly Fadel means by "wrong place, wrong time". Style needs to know what exactly Fadel is getting at in order to properly fight against Fadel's downward spiral and so he asks. Fadel explains and Style listens intently. "I think you should focus on your future." Style is wasting many hours just to come to see Fadel at the prison since it's so far away. Style doesn't earn any money working at the prison. Style is better off getting paid fixing some expensive cars. "You shouldn't waste your time on me." Fadel is once again simply just presuming Style's perspective on things without actually asking Style about it. But at least Style now has a lead, something specific he can counter. And Style does, and just like before he talks to Fadel in a very kind, warm way: "It's not a waste of time. You're my boyfriend. I will always make time for you. Work is important, but you're also important to me." Style is also back to a warm, happy face now, the seriousness from a moment ago hidden completely.

He then also speaks a little reminder to Fadel that Fadel's behavior right now isn't entirely fair to Style either: "Before you went to jail, you told me to focus on my own life. Now that I'm doing exactly that, you are sulking?" And again, this isn't supposed to be an attack. When Style says this, he is more serious than he was mere seconds before, but Style's voice is still rather soft, and while his words come with a certain urgency, there are no sharp edges to his tone. Style stays patient with Fadel, clearly trying to talk this issue out without getting into a full-blown argument.

By the way, the word that Style uses here that was translated as "sulk" is งอน [ngon]. Avid watchers of Thai dramas might have come across this word before (especially those who also follow actors outside their series). The dictionary thai2english translates it as "sulk" and "pout", and I knew it meant something like this, but I still went ahead and asked my Thai friend about it, in case he had something interesting to say about it. And he did, and I'd just like to share it here, because I think some of you will love to read about it, too. According to my friend งอน [ngon] is when you are "upset and disappointed, because the other person should know better, but it's not significant enough to be properly angry". My friend also said that it's a whole thing: for example when you are งอน [ngon] you can't actually admit to it, and it's the other person's job to come to you and make up with you (this step is called ง้อ [ngóh]).

So Style asks if Fadel is งอน [ngon] (and I hit pause after Style's sentence to have my friend explain this word, before continuing the scene) and Fadel says that no, he is not งอน [ngon] (after which my friend exclaimed: "See!! Exactly!! He's denying it!! Like I said!!"), then tells Style "Just do what you want. Don't take me into account." Fadel gets up to walk away and Style calls out for him to wait. But Fadel is done with the conversation. "I have work in the kitchen. Don’t want these prisoners to starve." With these words, Fadel leaves Style sitting there, alone, looking unhappy.

No. 8: Be Patient, My Son

Next, we find ourselves in Style's garage and we are shown that Style is indeed working hard, earning money. Even his dad comments on it: "You always only fixed a few cars a month. What's going on?" Style's dad then asks if Style is in need of money and Style says he just wants to save it. And that's when we, the audience, slowly start to realize that Style is likely trying to buy back the restaurant. But Style's dad doesn't know this, so he starts asking whether Style is intending to buy a new car, and when Style says no, he's not, his dad makes a guess for a "love nest" (เรือนหอ [reuuan hŏh]). I didn't ask my friend about the term เรือนหอ [reuuan hŏh], but according to thai2english and sanook.com it refers to a home for newlyweds which, uh, is quite different from "a place (such as an apartment) used for amorous and often illicit rendezvous", which Merriam-Webster defines love nest as. Style's dad asks if Style is getting married, and that's the fifth reference to a FadelStyle marriage. Here's a recap, in case you forgot:

Ep6: "wear make-up with me" vs. "will you marry me" (explanation here)

Ep7: proposal prank

Ep8: Fadel and Style taking part in an actual wedding

Ep11: Style's dad outright telling Fadel and Style to get married

Ep.12: Style's dad asking his son about marriage again

I can't believe this show did not end with them actually getting married, or at the very least engaged. It's gotta be my biggest beef with the show, not gonna lie.

Anyway, so Style informs his dad that he is not, in fact, getting married and goes on to tease his dad, asking if his dad doesn't like seeing his son working hard. The comment makes his dad laugh, although he's already got another question on his mind: "Where's Fadel been, though?" I do think it's kinda funny how this question comes up only after more than three years. Did Style's dad really never wonder about it? Or has Style always casually mentioned Fadel over the years and his dad just assumed that Fadel only happened to come over when Style's dad happened not to be there for it? Why did it take more than three years for this question to come up?

Either way, Style quickly comes up with the excuse that Fadel is in culinary school abroad. And from the way Style says it, it seems like Style is making up this excuse on the spot, which again has me wonder... what exactly has Style been telling his dad the past 3+ years?

Style says that Fadel will be back, which is the truth this time, and Style's dad is happy to hear that, because he's actually rooting for Fadel. We love to hear it. Then Style's dad tells him "You need a lot of trust when it comes to long distance relationships. Be patient, son" and I'm so glad we got this very scene, following the last one. I think this is something Style kinda needed to hear at this point. Because Fadel had just walked out on him, clearly upset, and now Style's relationship is in trouble. And I adore that Style gets told some comforting words, even if his dad actually has no idea what's really going on. "You need trust," his dad tells him, "be patient." And Style thinks about it.

These words hit Style, they mean something to Style. He goes very quiet while his dad continues talking. "You'll be back together soon." Style's dad puts a comforting hand on Style's shoulder and Style's reaction is one I find very difficult to describe and put into words (see gif below). It's like, on the one hand his own optimistic and hopeful nature agrees with his dad, but at the same time he also doesn't quite believe his dad, as if he's thinking Well, whether we'll be back together or not depends entirely on how stubborn Fadel is and if he stops being mad at me. I think part of Style lowkey fears that Fadel might not be willing to make up with him again. Style looks at his dad who then gives him an encouraging nod and Style returns a small smile and a little nod himself.

Style's dad walks away and Style's smile slowly falls as he gets lost in thought and looks down at the money in his hands.

Style is most definitely thinking about the state of his relationship with Fadel and his dad's encouraging words right now. And we, the audience, are now all going Oh, he is SO buying back the restaurant for Fadel!! Honestly, it's my own personal headcanon that Style started working out a plan to buy it the moment he got back from that very first visit where Fadel was like "I'm gonna buy back the restaurant."

No. 9: Making Up

We don't know how long it's been since Fadel and Style talked last, but I assume it's been a while, since last time we checked Style said he might not be able to come as often and now we learn from Bison that Style is at the prison twice a week these days. Personally I assume it's been at least a month if not more. I feel like 3 weeks should be a long enough time for "twice a week" to have become an established pattern that Bison can point out, plus at least one or the other week for Style to work on his projects before that. There's also the chance that it's been even longer than that. Either way, it's been quite a while for sure. After all this time, Fadel is still งอน [ngon] at Style and as my friend explained to me, it's Style's responsibility to make up with him. And so Style does. Surely also boosted by his dad's encouraging words, Style takes the first step towards Fadel by having Bison deliver a small origami bouquet. We know for a fact that Style was not the one who made the bouquet, because Bison does explicitly say the bouquet came "from someone who takes origami training" and I don't think it was a lie, because I think Style would most certainly have bragged about his origami skills if he'd made it himself. However, I do think the little Heart Burger flag is something that Style did make himself. And it's the first hint of confirmation that we get that Style is indeed trying to buy back the restaurant. Fadel doesn't make the connection, though. The little gift still touches him enough to finally seek out Style again instead of actively avoiding him.

Style is wiping the board when Fadel finds him. We don't know if Style is about to start a class and is wiping the board in preparation so that he would have space to write on once the prisoners come in or if he just ended a class and now he's doing some clean-up for next time. My personal headcanon is that we're seeing Style after class actually. It's been established that the prisoners help putting stuff back once class is over and with the way Style is completely by himself when the scene starts it's my headcanon that Style is being slow and hanging back on purpose, because he is desperately hoping Fadel would come to see him, even if Style isn't really expecting it. And the reason why I believe Style thinks Fadel won't show up despite the gift is because Style isn't cheerful the way he usually is when he's purposefully staying optimistic (like he was for example when he's talking to Kant about the cat in front of the abandoned diner in episode 6, or in episode 7 when there is clearly something off about the assassin brothers and Kant points it out and Style insists that Kant is overthinking it or in episode 9 when he makes wishes for his dead body and so on). No, Style looks very serious when the camera first cuts to his face.

He does smile a little once it's fully sunk in that Fadel is really here, standing in front of him, and only then does he put on a bit of a cheerful, teasing voice when he tells Fadel: "Thought you'd never see me again." Didn't I say Style was a little afraid that Fadel might not be willing to make up again? Fadel bluntly asks what Style is here for and Style drops the positive voice. Instead, now his voice sounds more concerned and regretful when he asks "What are you mad (งอน [ngon]) at me about?" As per the etiquette that my friend explained, Fadel immediately denies that he's mad (งอน [ngon]). But then he finally does tell Style what the problem is: "I told you I don't like expectations because I don't want to be disappointed." (Btw, Fadel did indeed say this pretty much word for word when he was crying on those steps in episode 10.) Style then says "But I didn't do anything to disappoint you."

I actually had a question about this line to my friend as well: for the English translation the sentence was phrased in past tense and to me that sounds like Style is talking about something specific maybe back around that time when he failed to show up to teach, an incident clearly set in the past. The thing is, though, that Thai doesn't actually have verb tenses. There are words you can add to a sentence that will clarify whether a statement is about the past or the future, but the verb itself doesn't change and sometimes things can get a little muddy. This is one such case. And I was confused, because especially in retrospective where we know Style is actually in the middle of trying to get back the restaurant (he also states later in the scene that he is in the middle of doing something that he isn't sure is gonna work yet, meaning the restaurant has not yet been acquired at this point) I thought Style's statement could maybe also be taken as What I'm doing and working on right now isn't something that is wronging you. Since Style trying to buy back the restaurant is an on-going project that is happening off-screen at the very same time, it's not a one time thing that happened back when Fadel first got mad at Style. No, it's still happening at this very moment. I discussed this with my friend who thought about it for a moment and then decided that the present perfect tense would probably be the best solution here, since it implies that it's about something that started in the past and is still on-going (or still has an effect) in the present.

So Fadel says he doesn't want to be disappointed and Style tells him "But I haven't done anything to disappoint you." Because what Style has been doing will be the opposite of a disappointment for Fadel. If it works out, that is. Because if it doesn't, if Style fails then it will be a huge disappointment to Fadel. And so Style doesn't want to tell Fadel about it just yet, precisely because he knows Fadel doesn't like disappointments. But Fadel is missing all that context, and so to him the situation reads very differently. And he's hurt. And now he finally opens up to Style about it: "Coming to see me regularly, getting me used to seeing you, making me miss you, and suddenly disappearing… How do you think that made me feel?" Style doesn't reply, he just keeps looking at Fadel with a serious face.

I think he feels bad that Fadel feels like this, but I think he truly doesn't dare to reveal what he's doing. Style knows just how important the burger restaurant was/is for Fadel and how much he loved the place and I think Style assumes it will be an even bigger disappointment and blow to Fadel if Style outright tells him and then fails to deliver. And it's a disappointment that Style really doesn't want to see, because I think it would crush Style himself. I think Style would actually beat himself up about that. And so he keeps his plans to himself, because he's afraid of failure. This specific failure is one he really can't afford. Style stays silent and doesn't answer Fadel's question. Fadel continues to rage: "If you can't do it, don't promise me anything. Do you know how easy it is to overthink when I'm here?" Style still isn't saying anything. Fadel is done. "If you have something important to do, just focus on it. I don't want to slow you down."

Fadel turns to walk off angrily. Style moves at the speed of lightning to hold Fadel back. Fadel finally talked to him and Style is not gonna let him go that easily. They still have something to clear up. Fadel stops and turns back to look at Style again. Before Style even says anything, he pulls away his vest to reveal the heart burger pin that Fadel gave to him. The pin that is very important to Fadel, the pin Fadel is very protective of. In a way, the pin is Fadel's heart which he gave to Style only last episode. And it's right there. Fadel's heart. On Style's heart. In Style's heart. "You're the most important thing to me," is the first thing out of Style's mouth. Style is extremely serious right now. All of Style's decisions, all of Style's actions revolve around Fadel. And he really doesn't want to lose him. And even if he's afraid of failure and disappointing Fadel if he can't pull through with his plan, losing Fadel is worse, and so Style finally opens up at least a little bit: "I'm doing something for both of our futures." Again, Style is extremely serious. He isn't hiding behind a positive attitude, his words aren't performative in the slightest. This is extremely serious and extremely important. I think Fadel does believe him, but wants to confirm that it's true and also doesn't want to be kept in the dark. "What are you doing?" he asks, then throws Style a challenge, almost an attack: "Can you tell me?" You know your behavior is hurting me, will you keep it up for the sake of whatever it is you're apparently doing?

At this point everyone in the audience is screaming HE'S BUYING BACK THE RESTAURANT FOR YOU, YOU DIMWIT!!!!! at Fadel. But Fadel still isn't making the connection, despite the hint with the Heart Burger flag and the Heart Burger pin and Style dropping he's working on their shared future. Can you tell me? But Style can't. He doesn't quite dare. "Can you wait a little longer? I want to be certain about it first. I want to make sure I really can do it." This is a plea. Style is pleading with Fadel. I told you as much as I could and I really am trying my best. For us. Will you please give me the benefit of the doubt and be considerate of my feelings in this situation, too? As I said, I think Fadel did believe Style earlier already, but I think now Fadel really understands that what Style is doing is very important to Style, but that it comes with certain insecurities that Style isn't ready to open up about. Style never pressured Fadel to open up about anything he wasn't ready to open up about and Fadel isn't about to pressure Style either. Style is loud and clear on the fact that he has Fadel in mind and that Fadel is important to him. Fadel doesn't immediately answer and instead contemplates on the situation and Style's plea while Style keeps his eyes fixed on him. Fadel's reaction, Fadel's response really matters to Style right now. Their relationship depends on it. And then Fadel finally yields. Because Style and their relationship is just as important to Fadel. Even if the situation isn't ideal. "You really love surprising me, don’t you?" Fadel finally says. And let me just share the original wording, even if it doesn't make much of a difference:

You always like to surprise me. มึงนี่ชอบเซอร์ไพรส์กูตลอดเลยนะ [mueng - nîi - chôp - sêr-prai - guu - dtà-lòt - loiie - ná] you - [interjection] - like - surprise - me - always - [particle] - [particle]

(Alt. translation: You're always surprising me.)

I like that in Thai Fadel says Style always surprises him, because to me it highlights how for the past 12 episodes we really have watched Style surprise Fadel all the time. Over and over again. In many different ways. God, I love them, I love their story so much. Anyway. Back to the scene. Fadel says this and Style understands that Fadel is no longer outright pushing him away or blocking him anymore. Style replies:

Then come learn how to fix cars with me again. ง��้นมาเรียนซ่อมรถกับกูใหม่นะ [ngán - maa - riian - sôm - rót - gàp - guu - mài - ná] then - come - learn - fix, repair - car(s) - with - me - again - [na] Official subs: Come back to class.

The phrasing of the official subs sounded a bit too much like a direct order in their written form, especially without the context of Style's friendly tone, which is why I wanted to share a softer phrasing for the purpose of this meta. Because Style's words aren't an order. They're an invitation. If you've forgiven me, come see me again regularly. They're a peace offering. Fadel stays grumpy and grumbles: "I've been taking the course for years, and I still don't know how to fix anything." It's a stab at Style, but not an aggressive one. And it doesn't have anything to do with their original conflict. Fadel is leaving that conflict behind. Fadel has forgiven Style, even if he doesn't outright say it. Style finally laughs (or rather snorts) for the first time this entire scene and for a moment it looks like he's about to cry from relief that Fadel is no longer angry and that their relationship is saved:

Fadel continues with his grumbly teasing: "All you do is yap." The relationship really is back on. Style teases Fadel right back: "But that's exactly what you love about me, isn't it?" This isn't just Style going along with Fadel's teasing, it's also Style telling Fadel No matter how grumpy you pretend you are, no matter how much you were ignoring me, I know you never stopped loving me, I know you still love me now.

And finally, Fadel breaks. He laughs for a moment. Because he can't deny Style's call-out. Both, that he still loves Style and that he likes that Style is a chatty cat. Fadel pulls up the Heart Burger flag from the origami bouquet. Style laughs in surprise. Why? I don't know. You decide. Maybe he thought Fadel had stomped on it in dramatic anger. Or maybe he's thinking Oh wow, did the bouquet and the flag actually work? Is that what finally made him come see me again? Fadel is still holding up the flag and says that it's cute. And again you can really see the relief in Style's eyes, alongside his joy that things are looking better now with Fadel.

Style asks Fadel to clean the board and Fadel grumbles about it, but does it anyway. Because when does Fadel not give in to Style.

No. 10: Show, Don't Tell

We reach year 5 and finally the brothers are released. We check in with our foursome on the day the brothers get to go home. Bison walks through the door first, runs up to Kant and hugs him. In the meantime, Style is sat on the hood of the car. Fadel doesn't immediately walk up to him, but instead stops behind/next to Kant and Bison who discuss just how much they missed each other. Style doesn't pass up the opportunity to tease Fadel (and I think Style, too, wants a proper greeting, thank you very much):

Hey. This couple said they missed each other. เฮ้ย คู่นี้เขาบอกคิดถึงกันด้วยนะ [hóiie • kûu níi - kăo - bòhk - kít-tĕung - gan - dûuay - ná] hey • this couple - tell - miss - each other - too - [particle] Official subs: Hear that? He said he missed him and all that. So how about you, did you miss me? แล้วมึงอ่ะ คิดถึงกูป่ะ [láew - mueng - àh • kít-tĕung - guu - bpà] and - you - [particle] • miss - me - ? Official subs: Did you miss me at all?

(Sharing this mostly because I feel like it and I know a lot of you love the language bits, not because the literal wording makes any difference in this case lol)

Fadel announces "I'm not saying it", but the reality of the matter is that Style's wish is Fadel's command. And so Fadel walks up to Style and plants a kiss on his lips. "I'm showing it."

But before they break apart, Style pats Fadel like easy tiger, we have company. I do think this is about Kant and Bison's live slug reaction and not because Style doesn't want to be kissing Fadel right now. I think Style is trying to be considerate of the other two. After the kiss, Style gets up, hugs Fadel and over his shoulder nods at Kant and Bison and boastfully points at Fadel like Did you guys see that?? That's my man!! It's the exact same energy as he had at the end of episode 9 when he was raising his eyebrows at Kant and Bison in the boat. It's the You guys don't have a Fadew like me energy. (I'm out of images for this post, but here's a parallel gifset.) I love just how proud Style always is of Fadel, and how happily he'll show him off.

While Fadel and Style are busy hugging, Kant and Bison discuss where they should go to now. Style jumps in to ask "Hey, can you guys drop me off near my place first?" and Fadel gets confused: "What do you mean, 'your place'? The garage?" Fadel's confusion might be a little weird, because why exactly would Fadel be so confused about "my place"? That seems pretty self-explanatory in English, no? Well, let me explain. Because there's something really interesting going on here in Thai...

Now, I didn't go back and rewatch the entire show to check (if I did, it would be March until I finally drop this meta lol), but as far as I remember they usually refer to Style's place as "the garage", or อู่ [ùu] in Thai. But here for this line, when Style say "my place", he does not use the word อู่ [ùu] (= garage). Instead, he asks to be dropped off at his ร้าน [ráan]. Now what does that mean? This word means "store" or "shop" and like in English it can be paired with other words to specify just what kind of shop it is, for example:

ร้านหนังสือ [ráan năng-sĕu]: ráan (store) + năng-sĕu (book) = book store

ร้านดอกไม้ [ráan dòhk mái]: ráan (store) + dòhk mái (flower) = flower shop

You may have noticed that I said Style says just ร้าน [ráan], without specifying what kind of shop it is. Because just like in English, you can drop the specification and refer to it as just "the shop" (or ร้าน [ráan] in this case).

Now here comes the interesting bit: this word is also used when referring to food related places such as...

restaurant = ร้านอาหาร [ráan aa-hăan] -> ráan (shop) + aa-hăan (food)

coffee shop = ร้านกา��ฟ [ráan gaa-fae] -> ráan (shop) + gaa-fae (coffee)

Or, you know, it's also in... ร้านเบอร์เกอร์ [ráan ber-gêr]. Now, เบอร์เกอร์ is "burger", but written in Thai letters. I don't have to tell you what ráan burger translates to, do I?

Oh, and at his point I should probably also mention that while the characters usually refer to Style's place as อู่ [ùu] (garage), when they talk about Fadel's place (the diner) they usually call it ร้าน [ráan] (shop, restaurant).

So yeah. The moment Style dropped that he wanted to be taken to his ร้าน [ráan] instead of his อู่ [ùu] (= garage) was the moment I started screaming, because that's when I knew for sure Style had bought back the restaurant and more importantly, that he had succeeded in doing so (yes, I did scream as if I didn't already know they were gonna be back at the restaurant through the clips shown in the MVs and from pics the boys posted during the shoot where they posed in front of the burger shop sign and their clothes matched the ones from the clips lol).

As I already mentioned, Style refers to it as just ร้าน [ráan] without specifying what kind of ร้าน [ráan] it is and it's vague enough that Fadel doesn't catch on the surprise, but it's just weird enough for Fadel to get confused: "What do you mean, 'ร้าน [ráan]'? The garage (อู่ [ùu])?" Yeah, Fadel's confusion here is about Style's unexpected word choice, because usually Style doesn't refer to his garage as ร้าน [ráan] (= shop, store). This is how they used to refer to the diner before Fadel had to go to prison. Style tells him he'll know soon and urges him to get into the car. They all do and Kant drives off.

No. 11: Surprise Surprise

The surprise works. Fadel didn't see it coming. "You said it was sold to someone." Style nods, making a m-hm sound, an adoring smile on his face that just oozes love and care. I really wish I could add a gif or a screenshot of his face, but unfortunately there's an image limit. I mean, you've seen the episode. You know how head over heels in love Style looks throughout this entire scene.

Style explains he bought it back for Fadel who then says Style didn't have to do that. Style says "I worked my ass off to buy this place back for you." I'm not entirely happy with the phrasing in the official subs, because to me there is also a negative connotation hidden in the phrase "work one's ass off", in the sense of "I worked my ass off for [xyz] and you don't appreciate it". But that might just be my ESL brain, maybe the media I've consumed mostly used this phrase in a more negative context and now my brain associates it with that.

In Thai Style uses the expression ตั้งใจทำงาน [dtâng jai tam ngaan] which does translate to "to work hard", but this expression contains the word ตั้งใจ [dtâng jai] which means "to intend to" or "to mean". I think it highlights with how much intention Style did this for Fadel. Style really meant to do this, like he's meant a lot of other things he's said or done over the last few episodes.

And Style putting in so much work also really shows how much he's grown. Because in the first half of the show I kept wondering why he had so much time to run after Fadel. We were told Style works as a mechanic, but we rarely saw him do any actual work. Instead, Style was able to follow Fadel's routine at the market or at the sports field or was even able to randomly help Fadel work at the restaurant without any scheduling problems and I kept thinking... what about his job at the garage? Is he never working? How does he have so much time to bother Fadel? And earlier in episode 12 Style's dad actually confirms just that: "You always only fixed a few cars a month." So Style, indeed, had the time to keep bugging Fadel. And back then it seemed like he didn't really have anything to do, didn't really have a goal or any direction in life. But then Kant sets Style on Fadel. And suddenly Style has a mission. And then Style falls in love. And now he suddenly has goals to work towards. We saw it last episode already, when Style suddenly started to make plans (first, his elaborate plan on getting Fadel and Bison on the run and second, during his last supper with Fadel when Style suggests making a plan for their life and their relationship while Fadel was imprisoned), and now it's not just that Style has started planning, but he makes plans with a very specific goal in mind and puts all his efforts in to reach this goal. He's no longer running around doing whatever. Style has really matured in this regard, Fadel's influence has changed him and has made him grow.

When Style says how determined he was to work hard to earn money to buy back the restaurant, his voice is somehow both soft and firm at the same time. His voice is so soft and filled with so much love, but there is some urgency to it, because Style needs Fadel to know this and he needs Fadel to know that he wanted to do this for him. Style knows he didn't have to, but Style wanted to. And it's important to him that Fadel really understands this. Because over the years Fadel has so often blocked or disregarded or struggled to accept all the nice things that Style has done for him. And Style doesn't want his act of love to be devalued again, especially not when he has spent so much time, effort, and energy on it purely out of love. A love that is worth it.

It's finally hitting Fadel what Style was so busy with when Fadel was sulking at him. Style confirms with another "mh". God, Style's heart eyes are really off the charts in this scene. "I wasn't sure I could do it so I didn't tell you," Style explains. And then he tells Fadel how he managed to keep up the energy in order to succeed despite his uncertainty: "But the image of you being back in this restaurant gave me this great strength to fix at least a hundred cars." Style smiles a bright, adoring smile. He's so in love. Fadel takes Styles hand and thanks him: "Thank you for doing this for me and for waiting for me." When Style responds, he actually phrases his sentence in a less direct and more general way in Thai than he does in the official subs:

Well, when you love someone, you gotta be able to wait. ก็คนมันรักอ่ะก็ต้องรอได้ดิ [gôh - kon - man - rák - àh - gôh - dtông - raw - dâai - dì] well - person, people - they, he, she, it - love - [particle] - [sentence link] - have to - wait - be able to - [particle] Official subs: Well, I love you. Of course I can wait.

This is an interesting difference between the Thai wording and the English subs, because once Fadel and Style start dating, Style actually rarely ever outright says the words "I love you" (and neither does Fadel, by the way). The only time Style properly says it is when Fadel has him at gun point in episode 7:

But now that I know the real you, I love you for real, Fadel. แต่พอกูรู้ตัวจริงของมึงแล้วอ่ะ กูรักมึงจริงๆนะฟาเดล [dtàe - poh - guu - rúu - dtuua jing kŏng meung - láew - àh • guu - rák - mueng - jing jing - ná - Fadel] but - when - I - know - real you - already - [particle] • I - love - you - really, for real - [na] - Fadel Official subs: Now that I know you, I really love you, Fadel.

And then arguably he says it again in episode 10 when he comforts Fadel on the stairs, although it's up to debate if that really counts as a direct "I love you":

But that I'm still staying / But that I still stayed แต่ที่กูยังอยู่ [dtàe - tîi - guu - yang - yùu] but - that - I - still - stay Official subs: But I stay with you is because I love that you're you / is because I love you for being you เพราะกูรักที่เป็นมึง [próh - guu - rák - tîi - bpen - mueng] because - I - love - that - be - you Official subs: because I love who you are.

Any other time Style talks about "love", he never addresses Fadel directly but phrases it in a more general way, using the word คน [kon] which means "person" or "people" instead of a pronoun. Style does this in episode 10 just a little while after the above line:

The more I know how much you care about me, ยิ่งกูรู้ว่ามึงแค่ร์กูขนาดเนี่ย [yîng - guu - rúu - wâa - mueng - kâe - guu - kà-nàat nîia] the more - I - know - that - you - care (about) - me - like this, this much Official subs: Knowing how much you care about me the more I know that I don't love the wrong person. มันยิ่งทำให้รู้นะว่ากูอ่ะ รักคนไม่ผิด [man - yîng - tam hâi - rúu - ná - wâa - guu - àh • rák - kon - mâi - pìt] it - the more - make that, cause - know - [particle] - that - I - [particle] • love - person - not - wrong Official subs: makes me certain that I didn't choose the wrong man.

And he also does it in episode 9 when Fadel opens up about his ex for the first time on the island:

A person who risks their own life for someone they don't even know. คนที่เอาชีวิตตัวเองไปเสี่ยงเพื่อคนที่ไม่รู้จักด้วยซ้ำ​ [kon - tîi - ao - chee-wít dtuua eng - bpai - sìiang - pêuua - kon - tîi - mâi - rúu-jàk - dûuay sám] person - that - take - one's own life - go - risk - for - person - that - not - know - even Official subs: You risked your life for a total stranger. I love the right person. กูรักถูกคนแล้วละ [guu - rák - tùuk - kon - láew - lá] I - love - right - person - already - [particle] Official subs: I know I'm in love with the right man.

And Style does it again now in episode 12, standing in front of the restaurant with Fadel. And let me just repeat the line with an even more literal translation this time (this sentence really doesn't work well in a literal translation in English, especially because English also comes with plural forms rip):

Well, people who love, they gotta be able to wait. / Well, a person who loves, has to be able to wait. ก็คนมันรักอ่ะก็ต้องรอได้ดิ [gôh - kon - man - rák - àh - gôh - dtông - raw - dâai - dì] well - person, people - they, he, she, it - love - [particle] - [sentence link] - have to - wait - be able to - [particle] Official subs: Well, I love you. Of course I can wait.

This time Style actually switches it around, because previously คน [kon] implicitly referred to Fadel, while this time คน [kon] actually refers to Style himself. And for some reason the official translator went for a direct "I love you" when Style neither says "I", nor says "you". In the entire series, Fadel and Style rarely say the words "I love you" word for word to each other. It's very clear that they do love each other, but they never outright say it. Instead they say things like "I'm worried about you" or "So what if we're old? I'll still wanna be with you" or "I don't feel so sad anymore. I'm happier." And they don't really need to tell each other I love you anyway, because their actions speak for themselves. It's like Fadel said the moment he got out of prison: "I'm not saying it. I'm showing it." And yes, this line was about missing Style, but really, this sentiment also goes for their love, for both Fadel as well as Style. So Style doesn't directly say he loves Fadel, instead Style just implies it and it's only in the next line where he doesn't mention the word "love" that he directly addresses Fadel:

Whether it's 5 years, 10 years, 20 years, I can always wait for you. จะ 5 ปี 10 ปี 20 ปี รอมึงได้เสมอแหละ [jà - hâa - bpii - sìp - bpii - yîi-sìp - bpii - raw - mueng - dâai - sà-mĕr -làe] will - 5 - years - 10 - years - 20 - years - wait (for) - you - be able to - always - [particle] Official subs: Whether it’s five, ten, or twenty years, I'll wait for you.

And this is the point where I get jumpscared by Dunk's voice suddenly blasting through my speakers. I wish the editors had made the music just a little more quiet. It gets me every single time, because every single time I watch this scene I get so immersed that I completely forget about the jumpscare. Fadel and Style lovingly stare at each other while I scramble to save the health of my eardrums. Then Fadel says he'll work hard to pay Style back, but Style doesn't want that. Technically Style is the current owner, and if Fadel were to pay him back then it would be like Fadel was buying the restaurant from Style. But that's not how Style wants to see it. Because this isn't Style's restaurant that Fadel has to buy from him. No, it's their restaurant. It's already their restaurant. Because obviously if Style owns it, then Fadel owns it, too. It's both a gift to Fadel and something that Style bought for them to share. Because "I'm here to support you in all your dreams." Because no one means well for Fadel more than Style does.

Fadel says "I sure am a lucky guy. I've been doing bad things my entire life, but I have the best boyfriend in the world." Style throws his head to the side, smiling, half in an Oh, you sweet-talker way and half in a No need to mention it, kinda way. Then he says "It's all thanks to Kant for daring me to take you out." And this is actually a reference to the title. The Thai name of the series goes:

He hired me to flirt with a hitman เขาจ้างให้ผมจีบนักฆ่า [kăo - jâang - hâi - pŏm - jìip - nák-kâa] he - hire - that - I - hit on, flirt, woo - assassin

And this is what Style says:

[...] for hiring me flirt with you. [...] ที่จ้างกูมาจีบมึง [tîi - jâang - guu - maa - jìip - mueng] that - hire - I - come - hit on, flirt, woo - you

Style laughs and Fadel smiles, too, and then Style pulls the Heart Burger pin out of his pocket. Without a word, he carefully pins it onto Fadel's shirt while Fadel makes heart-eyes at him. It's a parallel to Fadel putting the pin on Style last episode. The ring pin exchange is complete. Style says "From now on, everything is yours." They're all but married. Style still has his hand on Fadel's chest by the pin. Fadel goes to grab it. They smile at each other. Then they turn and together they enter the restaurant, their restaurant, their shared future, hand in hand.

No. 12: Dinner With Mom

At night, when Fadel and Style are done at the ร้าน [ráan] (restaurant) they do go to Style's อู่ [ùu] (garage). And I love how Style immediately calls out that Fadel is here. Style is so excited to tell his dad the joyful news. But but before he has the chance to share his good news, he gets surprised with bad news instead. A dinner invitation.

Our foursome once again gets together to fight evil. And of course, the evil dinner invitation calls for an urgent outfit change for all four of them. They're greeted by two men holding out guns, and Style is a bit startled for a moment, but otherwise keeps calm. The men demand Fadel's and Bison's guns and the brothers hand them over. The men then walk into the dining room and the the four of them look at each other before following the men inside where Lilly is waiting for them together with Babe and Style's dad tied up on their chairs. Kant and Style immediately call out to their loved ones. In general, I just love how worried about his dad Style is throughout the entire scene and how he keeps checking and communicating with him. I actually made a whole separate post about this with lots of gifs where I really go into detail about it, because the relationship between Style and his dad really needs to be appreciated in all its glory in gifs and tumblr simply just has an image limit of 30 gifs per (desktop) post. I can't afford to spend like 20 of them on Style and his dad alone. It was already tricky enough to limit everything I wanted to showcase for this episode to only 30 images in the first place. Anyway. Back to the scene.

Once again Style finds himself in danger, and once again he mainly stays out of the conflict between the brothers and their mother. We also aren't shown Style's face that much, so we can only make guesses as to how he feels listening to Lilly monologuing on and on and Bison raging at her. Style probably feels worried, especially for his dad. We know this, because in the beginning of the scene, before everyone sat down at the table, Style was very fixated on his dad and you could tell that he wanted nothing more than to run over to him and check if his dad was unharmed. When everyone is sitting at the table, sometimes the camera cuts into a wideshot and while we only see the back of Style's head, we can tell that he's looking at Lilly, so I assume he's paying close attention to her words and actions.

At some point, Kant chimes in: "It was me who exposed you. I masterminded the whole thing. If you want to kill someone, kill me. Just let my brother go." Style immediately jumps on board: "Kant was right. Let my Dad go. He doesn't know anything. I don't care what you do to me." We already learned in episode 9 that Style is very much willing to give his own life for the people he loves and so it doesn't come as a surprise at all that he's willing to offer himself up for his dad. However, in comparison to episode 9 there now is a hint of uncertainty to Style's voice, because he really doesn't know Lilly and so he can't predict her actions and reactions unlike he could with Fadel in episode 9. Lilly laughs a mocking laugh while Style and his dad exchange glances. And I love that they exchange glances here, because, to quote from my other post:

i love that style is communicating with his dad again at this very point, because style offering himself up will also affect his dad. his dad might be physically fine if style trades his dad for himself, but emotionally the dad will be ruined if lilly takes his son's life, especially when he's already had to deal with the loss of his wife years ago. style being willing to sacrifice himself isn't nothing, in fact, it's a very big deal and so the two of them communicate about it

Lilly continues to monologue and announces she has some poisonous drinks prepared for the occasion. Style turns to his dad and says "Dad. I'm sorry." His dad had absolutely nothing to do with this, his dad is totally innocent and Style hates that his dad was pulled into this and that his dad's life is now in danger.

We then don't see any shot of Style at all while Fadel and Bison plead with their mother and offer to continue working for her. We don't get to see Style immediate reaction to Lilly's announcement that she'll let her sons and their boyfriends go if her sons give their brother-in-law and their father-in-law the poisoned drink. There is a long pause and it's only right before Lilly asks "Can you do that?" that the camera goes back to Style and we see there is shock and concern. Shit's getting real.

Fadel and Bison say yes, they can. Style is most definitely very worried right now, but to be honest, I don't feel like he's all that terrified, I think that's more of a secondary feeling. He watches closely as Fadel lifts the glass towards his dad lips, and Style is clearly anxious and agitated and maybe a little afraid, but he doesn't say a single word to stop Fadel and I think deep down he does trust Fadel not to kill his dad, trusts Fadel to find a way out with dad unscathed. After all they've been through, I think Style trusts Fadel not to cause him such great pain. Although I do think Style is ready to swap the glass out of Fadel's hand at any given moment. But Fadel pulls through. From one moment to the next Fadel throws the wine into his mother's minion's face, attacks him, and Bison follows his lead. Style and Kant jump up to free their family.

Fadel and Bison kill the henchmen without remorse and end up with Lilly at gunpoint. Kant calls out for Bison not to kill her and Style offers to call the cops. Now that the immediate danger is over, we get to see a little bit of that Style again who tries to mediate and solve conflicts with as few people coming to harm as possible. But Fadel orders him not to get the police involved, so Style drops his phone, still concerned and not entirely happy, but without further protest. Style, Kant, and their family watch the brothers poison Lilly without interrupting them.

And I kinda love we do get to see Style witness Fadel actually murdering someone, because in my ep5 meta I wrote this:

"I promise that no matter who you are, I'll still like you." And there it is. Style's decision. [...] Fadel doesn't believe [Style's] promise, though. "Words are cheap. I'll do that when you're ready. You can judge, then." Again, I think Fadel has a point. [...] Because yes, Style may say he'll like Fadel no matter his occupation, but Style still hasn't seen the killer in action. Fadel's words mean Decide whether you still like me or not only when you find out my real occupation before you promise anything as much as they mean Decide whether you still like me or not once you've actually seen me murder someone in front of you before you promise anything. Style has already made a decision about the former, but he is yet to make a decision about the latter.

And so I love that Style is now able to make the choice of loving Fadel having seen Fadel truly at his worst, having seen him murder someone in cold blood.

I know for this meta I focus purely on character analysis, and I don't really criticize (whether it's acting performances or script writing or directing or whatnot), but I do wish the series would have spent a little more time on this, on Style seeing Fadel kill. Because Style is clearly affected by what he is witnessing.

Something truly horrible is happening right in front of his eyes. And it's a shame that Style finally seeing the killer in action gets kind of just glossed over in the very next moment when "I'm a killer, I'm a bad person, you should be wary of me" "I love you anyway" has been such a big theme for these two. It's kinda weird that we go from Style looking this horrified to Style being happy and content in bed, as if nothing had happened. That kill doesn't even get mentioned again. I feel like you could jump from the scene in front of the diner straight to Fadel and Style in bed and not notice that any major traumatizing event has occurred in between. Ah well. Let's move on.

No. 13: 100%

We come back to Fadel and Style sitting in Style's bed at night. Fadel is wondering if he should change the restaurant's name and Style thinks it's fine as it is. But Fadel says he wants Style to be a part of it, too, so Style suggests "Just add an S and a heart" and I'm just thinking... So, Heart Burgers? Or Hearts Burger, since he talks about an additional heart? Or maybe the S in an entirely different position? Whatever name Style is thinking of, according to him with an added S and another heart it'll be a better version than Fadel's version, because:

Because you have another heart right here. เพราะมีหัวใจอีกดวงเพิ่มขึ้นมาอยู่ตรงนี้ไง [próh - mii - hŭua-jai - ìik - duuang - pêrm kêun - maa - yùu - dtrong níi - ngai] because - have - heart - another - [classifier] - increased - come - be - here - [particle] Official subs: With another heart, that is.

Fadel likes Style's idea. And before I move on, I just want to go into more depth about this little sequence for a moment: after Fadel explains that he's thinking of changing the name because he wants Style to be part of it, too, Style looks like he thinks about something for a moment before he says "I don't think it needs much change." Of course, in this moment he is thinking about what exactly could be changed if Fadel really does want to change something, but the thing is, Style already likes the restaurant the way it is. He doesn't necessarily need the restaurant to change if Fadel is changing it just because he thinks Style would want him to change it. It really reminds me of episode 6 and the theme of "Be who you want to be, not who someone else wants you to be". If the restaurant represents Fadel's life, Style already likes Fadel the way he is. But if Fadel does want to change, there is something important to do: he needs to add a S(tyle) to his life. And another heart (Style's heart). With that, it will make a much better version of Fadel's life than it was before. And Fadel actually agrees.

I can't help but think back to the last time they were in Style's bed at night, all the way back in episode 5. Back then, Fadel really struggled with sharing his life with Style and letting him come close. Now Fadel actively wants Style to be part of his life. Now that he's done being a hitman, the restaurant can finally be Fadel's life, but it's not his restaurant alone, it's theirs. Getting to be part of Fadel's life is something Style has desired for a long time now and has even fought and argued with Fadel over on multiple occasions, and now Style is finally granted his wish. Fadel is finally letting Style in. When Fadel agrees that a better version would be one with an added S(tyle), Style looks at Fadel for a moment and thinks about something again.

Style knows Fadel loves him. And that actually reminds him... Style turns to grab something off the shelf next to him and proudly presents it to Fadel. The key to Kant's car. It's finally Style's. And I know from a story crafting perspective it makes sense for Style to receive the car only at the very end, but it's still really funny to me that Style was given the car only now, when Fadel has without a doubt been head over heels in love with Style for the past five years already. Because Fadel was without a doubt already head over heels in love with Style before he went to prison. But however long it took, what really matters is that Style did get the car, because a deal is a deal. And Style did indeed succeed. "If I could make you fall crazy in love with me, I'd get his car." When Style says that, his voice is full of affection and there's also a bit of teasing. I know you're head over heels in love with me. But Fadel tells Style to give the key back to Kant:

Because I don't love you that much. เพราะกูไม่ได้รักมึงขนาดนั้น [próh - guu - mâi dâai - rák - mueng - kà-nàat nán] because - I - not - love - you - to that extent Official subs: I’m not in love with you like that.

Style wordlessly stares at Fadel for a second while he's processing those words, blinks, then lowers his head. Really now?

Fadel looks at him, a grin most definitely hidden in his eyes, then huffs and pointedly ignores Style. It's a challenge. Style puts down the car key. Challenge accepted. Because Style is not one to back down from a challenge. This personality trait has stayed consistent until the end of the series. Style turns to loom over Fadel. "Are you sure that you're not head over heels in love with me?" Because Style knows with unwavering certainty that Fadel is. He just needs Fadel to admit to it. I've already talked about how Fadel and Style hardly say "I love you" to each other. Style, the person who loves so fiercely and so passionately and so loudly, already rarely says it himself and Fadel says it even less. In fact, ever since they've started dating the only other time Fadel has said he loves Style since that one time Fadel directly said it the night he found out about the betrayal in episode 6 was in the kitchen in episode 11 when he said he wants to "do what I love with who I love" and even then he actually doesn't literally say the words I love you, but rather just implies it. If anything, Fadel likes to claim he isn't actually in love with Style. And so I think Style wants to hear Fadel say differently out loud for once, even if Fadel's actions speak louder than his words anyway.

But Fadel continues to ignore him. I think Fadel is waiting to see what Style will do in order to draw the words out of Fadel's mouth that Style so desperately wants to hear. It's like he's testing Style's persistence. Style kisses Fadel's cheeks and asks "How much do you love me?" But Fadel isn't giving in to Style that easily and that quickly. "Only 30%." He knows Style is chasing those 100%. Style ups the ante and kisses Fadel's neck. This is a game now. "How much do you love me?" Fadel says "60% now" and looks up at Style, waiting to see what Style's next move is going to be. This time, Style goes for the mouth, goes for a full make-out session even. Then Style asks again: "How much do you love me?" He grins at Fadel expectantly and he's definitely also a little bit satisfied and proud. Fadel doesn't reply immediately, just puts his hand on Style's face and looks at him for a moment. And then Fadel finally gives in and says "100%".

Again, this meta isn't supposed to be a review or a criticism piece on the story, but I do think it's a bit of a shame that the conversations about percentages wasn't about trust. Because I feel like the main question with them over the series wasn't really Does Fadel love Style? but rather Does Fadel trust Style? And trust was also the big theme of episode 5, the episode that Fadel and Style's game in episode 12 is a callback to: "A guy like me doesn't go trusting someone 100%." And a little later in episode 5, when they're in Style's bed, Style more or less opens the conversation with "Sometimes you make me feel so scared, and sometimes you make me feel so safe," which again is about trust, not love. This theme continues also in episode 8, when Fadel handcuffs Style to the bed, because "I don't trust you", not because he doesn't love Style. Episode 8 is all about Style trying to gain Fadel's trust again, not his love: "What do I have to do for you to trust me?" The episode 12 dialogue does work in a way, because Fadel did say he didn't love Style or didn't like him all that much multiple times over the course of the series, and he even makes a comment like that in this very scene that we're currently discussing. But the thing is, Style never actually believes Fadel whenever Fadel claims he doesn't love Style (that much) and Style even calls him out on his "I don't love you" claim in episode 8: "You might be good at cooking and shooting, but you're not very good at lying at all." Style never doubted that Fadel loved him, but trust has been a very big issue. In fact, trust also played a role only this very episode when Fadel was sulking at Style when Style couldn't come in to teach in prison. Because in episode 10 Fadel had told Style "I don't want to have any expectations just to be disappointed" and Fadel had trusted Style not to disappoint him, except then Style seemingly does disappoint him and that hurts Fadel ("I told you I don't like expectations because I don't want to be disappointed." [...] "Coming to see me regularly, getting me used to seeing you, making me miss you, and suddenly disappearing… How do you think that made me feel?"). It makes Fadel feel like he can't trust Style, not that he can't love Style. And the question in that scene is whether Fadel can trust Style to really be working on something for their future that Style can't share yet, it's not whether Style loves him. So yeah. I feel like the dialogue about the percentages would have been a much cleaner parallel/callback if it had been about Fadel trusting Style, not about Fadel loving Style. Because we all, including Style, know that Fadel has always loved Style. He just didn't always trust him. But now he does. 100%. Style once decided "One day, I'll be your 100%" and now he is. They celebrate that by making out some more.

When they part again, Style tells Fadel "You know what? Having you is worth more than winning that car" and I'm filled with satisfaction upon hearing that, because I said more or less exactly the same thing three episodes ago in my ep9 meta:

[I]t's actually kinda funny, because Style agreed to make Fadel his boyfriend, but it's been how many episodes since they've started dating?? And we have yet to see Style with said car. [...] [A]s of episode 6 it was Kant who was still in possession of the car, despite Style and Fadel being head over heels in love by that point [...]. Style may have gone into it for the car, but he never actually took the car and by now the car is long forgotten. I didn't go and check, but as far as I remember Style hasn't even brought the car up to Kant ever since that scene in episode 4 where he initially came to claim it. At this point, Style would much rather have Fadel than the car anyway.

(Bolded for emphasis)

Now please forgive me if I skip the rest of the love scene, but I do want to get this post done before the end of the month, if possible. I think the main take-away is that now they both very much want each other and are very much into it, with nothing holding either one of them back.

No. 14: Driving Into the Sunset

Of course their last scene would be of them driving into the (metaphorical) sunset together in Kant's car that Style has finally won. Fadel and Style check in with Kant and Bison in Iceland. After the call, Fadel asks if Style would also like to go on a trip. Obviously Style wants to. "I usually travel with my Dad. Never done it with my boyfriend before," Style says, at which point, upon me showing my language buddy and Thai language consultant this scene, he goes "...the kidnapping, though?" and I break into laughter, because my friend is right. Yeah, Style, what do you mean you've never gone on a trip with your boyfriend? *gestures at episodes 8 and 9* Right, wots all this then?

I mean, technically you could argue that during that time Fadel wasn't actually Style's boyfriend, but let's be real, Style never got that memo. Or rather he went I recognize that the Council has made a decision. But given that it's a stupid-ass decision, I've elected to ignore it.

Anyway, whether it'll be their first trip, their second trip, or their hundredth trip, I don't think Style will ever say no to traveling with Fadel. Fadel suggests planning a trip later and then, at the mention of Style's dad, asks how Style's dad is taking the news of Fadel being an ex-assassin and ex-prisoner. I do think Style's dad is genuinely chill with it, but once again I wish the series would have dwelled just a little bit more on the aftermath of the Lilly incident and on how it affected everyone involved. Because it was quite a traumatic and brutal incident, and it's a bit jarring how everyone is all sunshine and rainbows from one second to the next. But for the sake of this meta and the next line, I'll just assume that everyone, including Style's dad, worked through it all off-screen. Style says that his dad is totally okay with it, because "He said I need someone with a past like yours to tie me down." The Thai wording is slightly different, actually:

My dad said someone like me needs to meet someone with a history like yours. พ่อกูอ่ะ บอกว่าคนอย่างกูต้องเจอคนมีประวัติแบบมึง [pôh guu - àh • bòhk - wâa - kon - yàang - guu - dtông - jer - kon - mii - bprà-wàt - bàep - meung] my dad - [particle] • say - that - person - like - me - have to, need to - meet - person - have - history - like - you

I like that in the original phrasing it doesn't state the "to tie me down" part. The Thai line leaves it up to the viewer's interpretation as to why exactly Style would need someone with a past like Fadel's. Personally, I took it in a "Style needs someone fucked up enough to be able to stand and handle and appreciate all of Style's unhingedness". And I don't necessarily think that Fadel would actively try to tie Style down, since Style's shameless loudness and Style's ability to unabashedly be himself and say things without a filter is exactly what Fadel loves him for. I think Fadel tying Style down ("taming" him *wink wink*) happens more as a byproduct of both of them influencing each other and changing into better versions of themselves when they're together.

The words of Style's dad make Fadel laugh. Then he says: "You know, I still remember what I promised your dad before I went to jail." Style looks over to him and asks "What did you promise?" Style smiles and I see both joy as well as curiosity on his face.

I think Style knows exactly what promise Fadel is referring to, but he's dying to hear the words out loud out from Fadel's mouth. His expression is also very expectant, almost challenging when he's done speaking. The little head tilt afterwards is almost like he's saying Pray do tell. Fadel replies: "I told him I'd go talk to him after five years." As I said, I think Style knew what the promise was, but I think actually hearing Fadel say it still gives him a thrill and causes butterflies in his tummy. He looks over to Fadel in pure delight.

And I love, love, LOVE that Fadel was the one to bring it up first. Because at some point after episode 8, when there were so many references to a FadelStyle marriage and I seriously started thinking about the possibility of a canon FadelStyle wedding or at least a wedding proposal (lmao joke's on me rip), I was contemplating about who of the two would propose first and who I'd prefer to do so. And I thought Style proposing would fit with his personality, especially since he himself said "I could spring a ring on you one day and just ask you to marry me." It seemed fit that the series would end with Style doing exactly just that. But then I contemplated some more and thought, actually, I would love it if Fadel was the one to propose. Because in the series it's always Style who is chasing Fadel, it's always Style proving over and over again that he really wants Fadel in his life while Fadel spends the majority of the series pushing Style away (and Fadel does it again even in the finale when he's mad at Style during year 4!). And I thought that it would probably mean the world to Style if Fadel proposed. Because it would showcase that Fadel wants Style in his life just as much as Style wants Fadel in his life. It would show Style that the feeling is mutual, that Fadel wants it for himself, too. That a marriage isn't something Fadel agreed to just because Style asked for it or talked him into it or anything like that. Fadel proposing would show Style that Fadel is choosing Style out of his own free will the way Style has been choosing Fadel over and over again. I'm once again reminded of @braceletofteeth's tags on this post:

#Style wants Fadel to claim him as his so bad it makes him look stupid #just like he takes pride in choosing his own man #he would be proud to be chosen as Fadel's man #delighted‚ if Fadel let others (and Style) know he's the one who earned the space reserved for his special someone #in his heavily secured heart #if he was so special to Fadel that he wouldn't want him to be taken away #or to share him with anyone else

Fadel asking for Style's hand in marriage, Fadel marrying Style would be Fadel claiming Style, it would be Fadel making an announcement to the world that Style is his and his alone. It would be Fadel choosing Style and Style would even have a ring to prove it. To prove that he is Fadel's. To prove that Fadel is his. I just thought Fadel being the one to propose would mean the world to Style. And judging by the joy in Style's face in the above gif, it absolutely does mean the world to him. That Fadel is the one to bring up the prospect of marriage.

Style asks if Fadel is serious and Fadel says yes, he is, but that he wants to have the chat only once the restaurant is up and running again (at least that's how I interpreted this statement). Style says "No need to hurry." He most definitely wants to marry Fadel one day, but I think he's got a point with this. After all, it's only now that they can finally start dating "properly", can finally experience the couple life with both of them out of prison, all cards out in the open, both parties trusting and loving each other mutually, and most importantly, without fearing for their lives. "No need to push yourself. After everything that we've been through, still staying together is already beyond anything we expected." Their relationship really is chill the way it is, there is no need to rush anything. They can get married when they both feel the time is right for it. I think that's what Style is getting at here. Fadel agrees. Then he says "I thought I'd die alone." Style knows that well. They discussed this last episode by the gravestone. And back then, Style had already announced that he wouldn't let Fadel get lonely in death. Now he says: "We'll die one day, but we'll die together of old age." They're gonna have that old man yaoi future together.

Fadel laughs, claims Style is cheesy, but still plants a big kiss on Style's lips. Uhhhh, Fadel, so what about the lecture you gave Style about safe driving the first time you guys met? All of that goes right out of the window as Style and Fadel continue to plant kisses on each other. How's that for character growth?

And off they drive into the night. Style's got both the car of his dreams as well as the man of his dreams. What more could Style want?

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7 | Ep8 | Ep9 | Ep10 | Ep11)

[keroppidreams]

16 + 30 ginklara, 39 + 51 hijirei :3

quick sidenote: i did see your other message, you did not dream about sending me an ask 😂!

16. Can they stay up all night just talking?

Honestly, 50% of the time probably not. Mostly cause Gin seems like the type to get pissy if he doesn't get enough sleep oops. But, if he happens to have a nightmare or is all jittery because he happened to overhear/watch something ghost related, then Klara does her best to stay up with him and talking about random things to get his mind off of it.

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other’s outfits; what is each wearing?

Klara would probably go to the store and choose something like this for gin. Anything that makes him a bit less raggedly while also making sure he feels relatively comfortable with lol. I can see her also choosing outfits that have a pastel color scheme. [klara vc] it's time for your pink era, gin ^-^

Gin, on the other hand...this is a hard one. Not because I don't have any ideas, but it's cause it's Gin-freaking-toki 😭that man never has innocent intentions 75% of the time. But, I feel like if he was genuine about it, he'd pick out an informal and simple komon most likely from the bargain bin that he thinks she'd like as well.

for some reason he chooses her outfits that have a light blue/white color scheme going on. wonder why. (sidenote #2: i went down a rabbit hole, looking through so many pics of komon on pinterest jpn oops)

39. Who would rescue an injured animal and nurse it back to health? What would the other think?

Reina is slightly more likely to do it, but we all know hijikata has a soft spot for animals. Just look at the kabukicho cat arc and the episode with the lil puppy...honestly, he might act like he doesn't care as he offers to lend a hand (though he'll perish on the spot if someone walks in on them trying to nurse a small animal back to health).

...on the other hand, she'll nearly get a heart attack if she catches him trying to feed said animal mayonnaise.

51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?

WEEPS...idk if this counts per se but i feel like since hijikata is always so busy with work, he lets her choose what to do whenever they have a date. Also patiently and quietly listening to her rambles even though he doesn't know anything about juj*tsu ka*sen (and is lowkey tempted to tell her that she shouldnt read shounen jump and should switch to MAGAZINE, the superior option).

meanwhile reina does her best to make sure that he's eating a decent meal, even willing to walk to the headquarters just to deliver him some food. she never forgets to top it all off with mayo. also i like to think that whenever theyre both busy doing their own stuff, they like to exchange letters or messages especially since they both find it easier to communicate sometimes via writing/text than verbal😭the power of toshifollow followkata!!

[vaginalsauce]

dolled up

warnings

Unprotected p in v, pet names (lover, dear, sweet love, pretty thing, honey, princess), fingering, sweet and lovey Jon, couples first time, semi-public naughty stuffs and teasing, oral, m!receiving, daddy Jon

A/N

Omg this was so fun to write, I kinda got carried away oops

For my little pookie bear @spookynoods

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Jon sat quietly on your couch, beer in one hand, other wrapped tightly around your shoulders to keep you close to him.

You had been dating for quite awhile now, and had gotten pretty comfortable with each other, but there were still limits either of you dared to cross just yet. The furthest you both had ever gotten was making out and Jon copping a consensual feel or two.

It was new for him, having someone there for him, instead of there for his money or drugs or sex. You two could sit in silence, and still be so absorbed in each other. Needless to say, he adored you, and he wouldn't do anything to make you angry, or uncomfortable, or upset.

After the constant reluctance to let him spend money on you was when he really started spending money on you, only because he just thought you deserved the world and more for being such a pure and loveable human.

But you felt horrible, not touching him in the ways you knew he desired in the bedroom, just because you weren't ready for that big step in your relationship.

He swore on his life that he didn't mind waiting, he just wanted you to be okay and comfortable. But you knew that he was a man, and you just couldn't help but feel bad for pushing the event so far away.

"Jon, honey, you're okay here for awhile if I run to my room, right? Just want to get fixed up a little before we head out with your boys." You turned to look at him, propping your chin up on his arm as you awaited his response.

He only nodded, placing a kiss to your forehead with a weak smile. His head was hurting again, probably hungover. You got up, taking his beer away from him and making your way to the kitchen. You grabbed a bottle of water and some pain medication, and shortly returned to the couch, handing him both.

"Take the pills with some water, and try and get some rest for awhile. I'll be in my room, just yell if you need something."

He looked up at you with a face of pure adoration, and extended an arm that would grip the back of your neck and bring you into a lazy but warm kiss.

"Thank you, lover." He hummed before doing what you directed, eyes wandering over you as you made your way to your room.

Once you reached said room, you gently closed the door, and began rifling through your closet to find the dress you had bought. It was tight, short, low cut, and revealing, a stark contrast from what you usually wore. And of course, to go under it, a pair of matching red lacy underwear.

You had decided for awhile that the night was going to come soon, and with going to a bar so the men of the band could see and meet each others women being the excuse to dress up, you had the perfect opportunity.

You quickly stripped and redressed, looking in the mirror for a solid five minutes to make sure everything looked okay on you. You moved to your desk, propping the lamp and mirror up just right as you started on your makeup.

Once the makeup was finished, you moved onto teasing and curling your hair, which took longer than expected, and your head snapped when you heard the door open.

You smiled and relaxed as you watched a groggy Jon lean against the door frame, another beer in hand. He smiled at you, before coming in and taking a seat on your bed.

"What're you getting all dolled up for? You got a date that I don't know about? Do I have to kick someone's ass?" Jon took a swig of his beer before his eyes began to wander over your dress in realization. "Shit, sweetheart. . . You're really starting to worry me, now." He teased, before watching you stand up.

"Am I not allowed to look pretty?" You gave a playful huff, putting your hands on your hips with a faux pout. Jon chuckled, pulling you closer to him by the backs of your thighs, and resting his hands on your waist.

"You're always pretty, dear. Just wondering why you think you've gotta get all fancy on me to think you're pretty." He pressed a kiss to the fabric on your stomach, before you leaned down and pressed your forehead against his, giving him a peck on the nose.

"You're very cheesy, old man." You grinned, before grabbing your bag and shoes. Jon was quick to follow you, pushing you down into a chair so he could kneel and slip your heels on for you. It wasn't new for Jon to tie your shoes or anything of the sort, and you always thought of it as sweet.

Once both of your heels were on and buckled, he pressed kisses to your knees before standing once more, catching a glimpse of the red lace on his way up. He shot you a confused look, which you brushed off.

He took your hand, and led you out of the apartment.

*********************

It wasn't long before everybody was seated at a red decorative booth, three other girls sandwhiched next to all of the men. While everyone was busy talking, you placed a hand on Jon's upper thigh, giving his leather a light squeeze. He carried on his conversation, but you could tell it threw him off guard by the way he paused for a short second.

The arm that was previously wrapped over your shoulders had found its way under the table, taking your hand and moving it into your own lap. It worried you, but your worry was quickly replaced by a fluttering feeling in your stomach when his hand rubbed it's way up from your knee to your inner thigh, and you let out a shaky breath.

Once Alec had taken it upon himself to leave Jon out of the conversation, Jon leaned over and pressed his lips to your ear.

"What are you up to, you little fox?" He muttered, his free hand bringing a glass of vodka to his lips once he pulled away and taking a slow drink, and it made your own mouth burn at the sight, but you couldn't help but find it impressive.

"I'm not up to anything. You don't want me to love on you in public?" You tilted your head in pretend-innocence, saccharine dripping from your tone. Jon chuckled and shook his head.

before resuming his conversation with Richie, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "You teasing me right now? Pretty bold for someone who isn't ready for that yet."

Your legs had crossed, and you lightly began rubbing your foot against Jon's calf. He gave your thigh a squeeze in an assumed warning.

His voice seemed to deepen while talking, and you could tell he was getting antsy. Your hand just barely ghosted over his crotch, and his hips raised a little when you brought your hand back to his thigh, desperate to have you touch him there again. He huffed in annoyance when your fingers tapped along the outline of his cock in his tight pants.

And that fast, he pushed your legs apart and cupped your clothed heat with his large hand. You almost let out a moan, but you were quick to swallow it when you noticed the sharp glare that Jon shot your way as another warning to keep quiet.

The rubbing on Jon's thigh faltered as he applied a bit more pressure to your core, fingers trailing along the lace. He looked over to you, and you had never seen a more desperate and lust-filled look in his eyes.

"Hey, kids, me and y/n are heading out, we made reservations." And with that, Jon grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet and leading you out the door. He called a cab over, and told him the address of your apartment building.

"At 11:00 at night?" Richie questioned, but shook it off.

When the two of you climbed in, his lips were quick to attach to your neck, kissing and sucking gently from your jaw to your collarbone. Your hands raked through his hair, and you let out a shaky whimper.

His marking seemed to go on forever, just licking, sucking, biting, kissing in all the spots he knew you liked until the cab pulled over in front of your stop. Jon pulled cash out and put it in the palm of the driver, muttering a small 'keep the change.'

You two raced to your apartment, hands intertwined. It wasnt seconds after you closed your front door that Jon had his hands on your hips, pulling you into the neediest kiss you've ever had with him.

"Shit, you planned this all out, didn't you, sweetheart?" Jon's hands trailed from your hips up to your tits, kneading them gently in his palms as he watched you struggle to focus and nod. Your fingers slipped through his belt loops to pull his hips harder into yours, and he let out a low groan.

He grabbed your hands and pulled them away before wrapping an arm, around your waist, ushering you to your bedroom.

Jon pushed you onto your bed, lips reconnecting with yours. He brought his knee up to nestle between your thighs, pushing against your cunt.

He felt his insides turn into flips when you began struggling to kiss him back, hands wrapping over his neck as you began to lightly grind yourself against his knee.

"Sweet love, you're already so squirmy for me? Thought this was your idea, trying to tease me in public like that?" Jon pressed his knee harder into you, and you brought your hands down to try and tug his shirt over his head, but he caught them and pinned them over your head. "Huh uh, you don't get to get impatient on me, princess."

You let out a whine, But Jon paid it no mind as he slowly peeled and stripped your dress off of you, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin. Once you were left in your lace, he pulled away to admired your bruised neck, your swollen lips, the way your hair was sprawled out under you.

"Jon, I need you so bad, please touch me." You begged, trying desperately to pull him back down to you. Jon gave you his cute little smirk before pulling off the bed completely.

"Gonna work for it, honey?" He gave you a little head tilt, and you crawled over to him slowly, before sliding off the bed and landing on your knees in front of the standing man.

Your stomach sank and all you could think of was how your mouth watered, so desperate to taste him. Your hands raced to his belt, fumbling with the buckle before managing to get it loose.

Jon slipped his hand down to help you, finally managing to tug his pants down enough for his hardening cock to spring out towards your face.

You were hesitant, and you looked up to him with a pleading look in your eyes, just begging for instruction. He took a hold of your hand, placing it at the base of his cock. You watched him shiver, and it boosted your confidence tenfold.

You gave his dick a few experimental pumps, only for his hand to come down and brush your hair from your face.

"C'mon, spit on it baby, use your pretty mouth for me." His thumb found its way to your lips, pushing past them and into your mouth, and you hollowed your cheeks around his thumb. His eyes never left your face, and you felt his cock pulse in your hand.

Once his thumb left your mouth, he used the string of saliva for his cock, and pushed his hips towards your mouth while your lips were still parted.

You took him into your mouth, his hand tangling in the back of your hair to guide your pretty face along his cock.

"Fuck," Jon groaned out. "just like that, so good f'daddy."

The new nickname for himself set your insides aflame, and you felt yourself involuntarily moan around his dick. His grip in your hair tightened, and his hips stuttered as he began to thrust himself into your mouth, taking the job upon himself.

You snaked your hand down to rub your clit through your underwear, but Jon yanked you off of his cock as soon as he noticed. "Hands behind your back, baby, did I say you could touch yourself?"

You did as he said, too embarrassed to verbally answer his question.

"Words, pretty girl, did I say you could touch yourself?" He asked once again, taking his dick in his hand and slowly rubbing himself to the sight of you below him, hands behind your back, all marked up from his love bites.

"N-no. ." You mumbled, bringing your face closed to his dick an an attempt to get him in your mouth again.

"No. . What? C'mon baby, speak." Jon rubbed your cheek gently, encouraging you to address him properly.

"No, daddy, y-you didn't." You huffed.

"That's my girl, so precious." And with that, he pushed his dick back into your mouth, hand back into your hair, but allowing you the free reigns to move yourself up and down his cock. You flattened your tongue against the underside of his pretty member, feeling the pulsing veins pushing on your tastebuds. "God, your mouth is so perfect, perfect hole for me to use."

You moaned at his words, looking up at him as he pushed you all the way down his cock. When he hit the back of your throat, you coughed and gagged around him, but kept yourself there purely to see the way his face contorted in pleasure. He pulled you off his cock again, letting his hand slip from your hair to your throat, squeezing the sides gently as he pulled you to your feet.

"Back on the bed, sugar." He hummed, pressing you back into the bed. His quick hands tugged the pretty red underwear down your legs, his jaw clenching at the sight of your dripping plush. "Fuck, baby, you're soaked. You really that needy just from sucking daddy's dick?"

You covered your face with your hands, but Jon only undid the clasps of your bra, throwing it across the room with his own littered clothes. He leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, his eye contact with you not faltering.

"Jon-! Oh my god, please--" Jon grinned against your breast, pulling off of it with a loud pop from the suction.

"Want me to fuck you? Is that what you're whining for?" Jon chuckled as you nodded your head quickly, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him close. "Alright, sweet love. You ready f'me?"

Jon gave his dick a few sloppy pumps before guiding his tip to your hole, just resting there, enjoying the feeling of your clenching cunt trying to suck him in deeper. You let out a loud cry, tears beginning to spring from your eyes as you bucked your hips towards him. "Please, daddy please. I need it so bad."

Jon leaned down to your face, forehead resting against yours as his lips just barely brushed your mouth. You pushed forward, trying hard to kiss him but he pulled away, flowing with your movements, his lips returning to hovering over yours. You let out a choked sob, hands coming down in fists onto the bed. A long string of pleas left your mouth, and you felt the hot tears streaming from the corner of your eyes and down the side of your face.

"Ohhh, sweet girl, so desperate, so pretty crying like that just for me. Can't even speak clearly." Jon began to push into you slowly, pulling out after only pushing himself in a little. Your hands flew up to dig into his arms, nails drawing reddening lines across them.

Every time he pushed in, he'd go just a little deeper, chuckling at how pretty you sounded choking on your moans for him. He rested his mouth next to your ear so you could listen to his pants and low groans as he finally began fucking you, pace relentless, as of someone flipped a switch inside of him. Your back arched and your stomach and chest pressed against his.

Loud moans were drawn from you with every thrust, and you were positive that all the apartments surrounding you would file a complaint.

"Oh, such a good slut f'daddy, c'mon. You were so desperate for me to fuck you, take it, little girl." Jon brought his hands up to squeeze your tits, gently pulling on them and squishing them in his large palms. He felt you tighten around him and he let out a sultry moan, moving one of his hands to your neck, pressing lightly aga8nst your airways. Your eyes were rolling back, and the feeling of being so light and air-headed in that moment was enough to make you see white.

You practically thrashed in his hold, and he was quick to grab your hips and begin pulling you back into him, chasing his own climax as he watched you experience your own. The sweet moans that were escaping you caused Jon to still inside of you, his stomach tensing up as he released his seed deep inside of you.

Pressing a long and passionate kiss to your lips, he slowly pulled out. When he pulled away, he wiped the hair from your face. He almost felt bad about how rough he was with you, a small frown forming on his face as he looked over how fucked dumb you were.

"You with me, lover?" He got off the bed, giving a weak smile when you lazily nodded. "Let's get you to the bathroom then, yeah? Toilet and then bath." Once you nodded again, he took you up against him, helping you to walk to said bathroom, your legs shaking, feeling like jelly.

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

[onlyplatonicirl]

i like how your fanfic shows how horrible of a parent ink would realistically be

I’m glad :)

That’s something I try to go kind of in depth on in this fanfiction, which is taking a lot of the more “non canon” aspects of character interpretations (Ink being a parent, Error/Ink as a relationship, Fresh and PJ having a friendship, yadda yadda) and I kinda turn them on their head a bit and subvert expectations and try to see how those tropes would realistically work with the characters while keeping them actually IN CHARACTER.

Error/Ink in the tags? Oops jumpscare it’s not really an errink fic cuz they “break-up” (to put it lightly) in chapter 4 and basically hate each other for the rest of the 200,000 words. It’s not a shipping story it’s a tragedy looking into an aroace trying to better understand how other people work for his own slightly selfish motives and a man who is so desperate for company and attention after being alone for DECADES that he becomes nearly dependent on the emotional validation of the one person that actually seems to remotely give a shit about him.

And also realistically, the multiverse would not approve of them even being friends in any capacity. It’s always slightly pissed me off when I’ve read fanfic and Ink’s like “guys me and error are friends/dating/whatever” and everyone else is like “ok.” Wdym you aren’t gonna start WWIII. It’s an inevitable (har har) failure doomed from the start.

(Something I also enjoy a out this story is that with minor tweaking you can read the whole thing as them just being close friends - the “romance” is not a crucial part, but it does help emphasize character development with what I’m trying to write.)

So along the lines of trying to keep the characters realistic, yes ink would be a shit parent. Not on purpose and not because he doesn’t care, but because he just as a person with his horrid memory and low emotional tolerance/processing would just not be good for raising kids. Plus, he’s always traveling for his “job”, rarely would he actually stay at home for longer than a day. He treats his house like a fun sims project, free plot of land to build a crazy house for fun. He didn’t design it for much more than that, he’s not living in it full time after all.

Plus that fucked up both his kids. PJ’s become callous and wary around anyone he doesn’t know that well mostly due to having to figure things out and deal with things on their own. (Council. He doesn’t like them.) He’s nearly had to raise himself age 8 onward since Ink wasn’t much help. He just wanders the multiverse by himself. Unlike gray, who’s a total shut-in nervous wreck who barely leaves his room u less dragged by the ankle. PJ’s basically had to raise Gray as well. Neither of them have ever met Error (aside from PJ’s “birth” and a brief run-in on another occasion in which no words were spoken and that lasted maybe thirty seconds before Error ran away in terror).

I cant Write so many essays on these guys do not try me HAHAHA

Tldr I’m mentally ill about character development and emotional depth exploration

[murainhell]

Any headcanons for radioapple or radiorose you won’t be able to add/address to your fics?

This is an interesting question and you have made me think more than I expected haha

Usually, if I think about the characters and how they interact with each other, I tend to do it around a story. So there's a good chance it's already in fic or comic format in my head. Especially as I always move around QPRs with Alastor. Thoughts on him? Plenty. What would he do on a Friday afternoon with Rosie? Hmmm, let's see… *starts writing a scrip* (<- literally what has happened with an idea with Alastor and Vox).

But! After thinking about it, it turns out that I do have ideas in my head that I assume to be true for my stories but I don't think I'm going to be able to talk about. So here are a few:

Alastor and Lucifer 📻🍎

Completely obsessed with them bonding over music, playing instruments and dancing. This is something I wish would also happen in the canon series; they've already sung a song together, they can throw knives at each other in the morning and give a concert in the afternoon lol. But I don't think I'll do anything with that, because there are people who have explored it before. And yes, two cakes! But I don't know anything about those things, I wouldn't know how to describe the situation well. But I assume it's something they do in my fic some evenings; no need to talk, just enjoy the moment.

First activities they do, now what they DON'T do: cooking together. Watching his workshop in canon, I see Lucifer as a very messy person in the kitchen, not cleaning up because, well, magic sorts it out later! Let's experiment! While Alastor has his own chaos, but within absolute control of the situation. He's had time to learn how to handle a crime scene, so it's all neat and tidy in his own way. I did mention this in my fic in passing, but I'm sure I'm not going to add a whole scene of them trying (and they have tried), because it would give me a headache haha

Alastor has a small collection of things he has taken from Lucifer as mementos. In my fic, I think I remember Lucifer thinking in one scene that he doesn't mind leaving Alastor alone in his room because if he wants something he's sure he'll have slipped in before to take it. He was right. Alastor currently has the red monster figurine (which is totally cursed cat), several ducks, some Lucifer blueprints (the best way to disagree with them, make it disappear and the other may forget it existed), and a couple of things that might be relevant in future one-shots, we'll see.

Alastor and Rosie 📻🌹

More tricky because it's more like I haven't had time to sit down and do anything more with them, but some ideas that are in my mind that aren't in any of my fics for now:

Alastor leaves Rosie gifts, especially when they don't have time to see each other. A little ‘I've been thinking of you’. Sometimes roses, sometimes books, it depends. (If any of you are interested in this, it's a good time to recommend this fic "Fawning Over You" by Bexii. It does have a romantic tone, but I really enjoyed it, it's lovely.).

Even if they get along well, they both have a plan in the back of their minds on how they would try to defeat the other if it came to it. They are both smart and need to be prepared for everything; they just trust that day will never come.

On that note, it's exciting for Rosie to be able to trust him! Because of her relationship with men, her current solution to arguments is to get them out of the way, it's not worth the effort the moment being with someone is no longer fun. But Alastor has survived by her side many years and has never failed her. Actually, I think they could both bond around the “ugh, I don't understand men" since he also prefers the company of ladies haha

And I think this is enough for now. Sorry for writing so much oops

[harringtonhurst]

hey, rockstar / steve harrington

your band practice in gareth's basement gets an unexpected visitor as corroded coffin admirer/observer dustin henderson gets picked up by none other than steve harrington.

pairing steve harrington x fem!reader

a/n hi! first post here, and this turned out longer than i planned oops. anyhow, hello, i'm sha! hope you like hey, rockstar, twas pretty fun to write!

"I'm just not getting the feel, you know?"

Gareth let out an exparated sigh, along with a failing attempt to throw his sticks in the air. You rolled your eyes playfully, your grip loose on the mic. In the heat of Hawkins despite its spring somehow you found yourself slowly sweating in Gareth's open garage. "I think I get what you're talking about, I mean, you need to feel it." Dustin interjected, leaning back on his chair. He laughed as Eddie ruffled his hair. "You're thinking about this way too much. Look, i'm almost late for my shift. Can we play it all one more time, no interruptions." You paused, glaring back to Gareth. "And pick it back up tomorrow? Our gig is not until Tuesday anyway." You rolled up your sleeves to your elbows. "I hear you boss lady, one more time." Eddie nodded.

"One, two."

The familiar beginning riff of a song you can recite far too well now came to be, Eddie's fingers naturally guiding him with each chord. It being about the tenth time he'd have to play it with every little mishap that somehow disrupts one song. Could be heard Dustin's soft cheers as the notes step closer and closer to your part. You close your eyes. Though the discomfort has gotten most of you and your bandmates, the sun slowly settling in slumber and a strained need for perfection has caused much nuisance, that never stopped the thrill that came to be when your voice carried the melody that is singing.

Despite your previous opinions, it seems now, as the drums hit every little beat better than it did before, as the guitar lulled your voice like a perfect symphony, the cymbals accentuating the rhythm altogether, the bass' low hum bringing it altogether, your voice carrying the song how you've always wanted it to, you finally get what Gareth went on and on about. You, and you're quite sure the others did as well, got the feel. Your eyes fluttered open, the joy of it all clearly dancing throughout everyone else.

A shine clear in Eddie's eyes, an excitement in every beat Gareth hit, a grin fresh plastered on Jeff's face, and Dustin's laughter of cheers being a perfect touch. In the silent streets within the noise could be heard a car screeching to a stop, but you paid barely any attention to it and sung with your heart. Your back bumped against Eddie's, you both poured your passion as the song was close to its end.

Steve turned to the final way to where Dustin had told him to pick him up, stopping absentmindedly as he spotted the young boy, his demeanor of pure joy. The song unfamiliar to his ears, yet he of course recognized the raspy, yet sweet voice that carried this stranger melody. But he bared no expectation that it would've been who he suspected. Not a far distance, he rolled down the window of the passenger's seat and his gaze landed on your face. Carved to perfection in his eyes, utter mesmerization brought goosebumps as he witnessed you.

You.

Passionate as ever, singing your heart out in euphoria in the presence of people he would give anything to trade places with. A sly grin he recognized ever so dearly as your back was against Eddie's, a sting clearing its way into his heart. All he could do was stare, as the beat carried your body. You. Who was once his everything. Who was he kidding, you still are. The one true bestfriend he had throughout his life, and he somehow lost. He somehow let slip through his fingers.

He found such a love in the way you dressed, though aged still carried a piece of you he always knew. You wore a faded shirt, wrote an album’s name on the bottom under the cover, a song he remembered you gushed over so excitedly the first time you had heard it, and of all people, you rushed to him to share what brought you joy. Your head tipped back, the final ring of the song coming to an end. Laughter broke within you all, granting Dustin a high five as he waved his hand high for one, and you had turned your back to him when Dustin finally noticed Steve's presence.

"Steve!"

Your eyes widened as Dustin shouted that name. That very name, familiar, comforting. Painful. You felt a tremble in your hands, as your bandmates continued their much deserved happiness. Funny, how a single name, a few letters strung together could've easily brought you to your knees. How just a few minutes ago you were in utter joy and now it was like you were the same stupid kid letting tears decorate your cheeks over someone who saw no value in you the way you saw him. A haze found its way to your sight, but you did not want to break down over someone who wouldn't do the same. Not anymore, anyway. There was a time, an era of memories you remember, where he would've. Before the way he looked at you changed, into looking at a cherished a friend, into something else.

Something you could never put together. You felt a hand on your shoulder, a jolt coursing through your body but to your comfort just stood Eddie, his previous grin turned to concern. And in a matter of seconds, realization. You were well aware of the sudden friendship he had made with Steve. You had absolutely no complaints nor objections against it, but you held no expectations of ever seeing him again.

"Right, I'm sorry. I, I forgot to tell you. Henderson told me Steve was going to pick him up, I'm sorry—“ You stopped him, a frail attempt of a brave face. "It's fine, Eddie. Seriously.” You cleared your throat, turning to face the music. Abrupt, instant, your eyes met his. He had gotten out of the car, just in front of the garage with Dustin by his side. Figures, of course he'd want to make an introduction. He stood a few inches taller than you, he's grown. His hair a little longer but still with its popular character. His face a daze, a clear discomfort, and something else you couldn't quite pick up on.

"Steve, meet Corroded Coffin. You know Eddie. This is Gareth, Jeff, and—“

"You."

He breathed out, a shiver down his spine as he spoke of someone he held a worlds worth of affection for. It hurt, of course it did, going from daily visits and hangouts, laughter until your stomach hurt, to being introduced as if strangers.

As if he didn't hold your secrets as much as you did his. As if at one point, he wasn't a piece of the past barely within your grasp but Steve, Steve Harrington, your very bestfriend. Though some parts of you ached for it to be more, a bestfriend was what he was that mattered the most. "Steve." You managed to let out just above a whisper. "Oh? You two know each other?" Dustin questioned innocently. "We've met. Briefly." You quickly turned away from his eyes, despite your will your every urge to fall into the eyes you had spent ages studying every little speck of hues there was. You adjusted your mic and turning it off. Haphazardly you reached for your bag sitting on the back, moving past Steve, mouth agape clearly looking for a word to say, grabbing your leather jacket.

"'I’ll see you guys tomorrow,"

You looked back briefly, before rushing off to your motorcycle and leaving before anyone could come to question you. "What's gotten into her?" Jeff questioned, turning left and right for an answer but all that came was silence. Eddie heaved a sigh, turning to face Dustin. "Safe trip, Dustin Henderson." He said playfully, before looking up to Steve. Eddie held not much of a resentment, but he couldn't help the hostility even a little with how much he had heard from you. Yet, all the same he met Steve at a place where he seemed to have changed from the guy who broke your heart. So he was torn. Steve's expression changed knowingly, upon realizing Eddie was aware of how exactly they had met, briefly. "Try not to crash the car, Steve." Eddie lightly punched him, earnest smile, a genuine laugh this time. "Screw off, man. Let's go, Henderson. Nice meeting you guys." Chuckled Steve, Dustin following.

A moment of peace you associated with the wind in your hair as the only tune that kept you company was the revving of your motorcycle engine was disrupted by the very interaction you had with, you didn't know what to call him anymore. A friend? Barely. A stranger? With everything that came between the two of you, you almost did not want to resort to it, though it was true. Steve Harrington. You knew, from the many talks from especially Dustin, that he was some what of a good guy now. But as foolish as it was, those days roaming the halls of Hawkins High aware of King Steve's reputation, you still believed the guy you knew was in there.

Somewhere, and even though he avoided eye contact with you each time you but barely grazed his presence, your stupidity led you to think this would all be over soon. Cut to sophomore year in a blink turned to graduation, and you saw he was willing to do so for other people. And never so much for you. So you gave up. Clearly, he had moved on from a friendship he abandoned for a reason he refused to give. What were you expecting? Even back then, before it all changed, you always had clawing fear that one day, he'd realize he was better off without you. And turns out, he did.

"Since when were you into rock music?" Steve asked, turning down the radio playing whatever was on, he couldn't really take focus to much, let alone this week's up and coming pop sensation. "Is she an ex or something? Besides Nance I don't think I've seen you like. That. With anyone." Steve stared ahead on the road, taking Dustin to snap his fingers to get his attention. "What? No. Of course not. She's just. Ah, I don't know. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, forget about it. I just, knew her at some point. No big deal." He stopped the car in front of Dustin's house. He shrugged, nodding slowly, lips slightly pursed, but Steve knew he was not going to let go of this anytime soon. He got out, shutting the door behind him and approached the driver's seat window. "They play at The Hideout every Tuesday." Dustin remarked, before rushing inside.

"Why would I care!"

Steve shouted to no avail as Dustin's door shut. "Tsk. Kids. I didn't even ask." He started the car, driving off. In the low vibrations of the radio, he heard a beat he wasn't unfamiliar with. He turned it up, to the voice of Freddie Mercury.

"Stop disrupting the music with your awfully deaf tone voice for crying out loud." Steve said in between laughter, but of course, he loved how your voice clashed with the beat, sometimes singing too fast or too slow, but he loved it. Every second of it. "How dare you, after all we've been through. Watch, I'll be a fucking legend and you'll regret ever disrespecting my instrument." You continued to sing along, his attempt of closing your mouth failing miserably.

"You know what they say, dream big, or in your case, dream impossible." Steve threw an arm around your shoulder. "We'll just have to see, won't we, Harrington? I'll be selling out stadiums and you'll be begging on my mansion doorstep for a dollar." You lightly nudged him with your elbow.

"Not a chance."

You stopped your motorcycle at your house, completely forgetting about your shift. You knew your boss was going to give you an earful, but you couldn't care much of it now and called in sick anyway, thankfully the machine was very understanding. You shut the door, taking off your jacket and throwing it with your bag, and yourself on the couch. "Of all places. Of all times. You're such a jerk, Steve." You mumbled to yourself, facing the dimly lit ceiling of your house. You wonder of what did he think, after seeing you now? You thought you had moved on. And truly enough, apart of you did, but there was that kid in your veins that had the childish need for your friend back.

Even if your depths of falling in love could never be reciprocated, you had made your peace with that because you valued him as a friend much more than a lover. Perhaps it'd have pained you less if you blamed it on how people naturally, drifted apart. But that you knew for a fact that would have been a lie. There was a time, where he went to your house on the brink of morning impulsively, where he called you, just as much, even more so than you called him. But towards the end the shift was noticable.

And all it took for you and Steve to fall apart was for you to stop reaching out first. For you to give up on him after he gave up on you. You despised that you held little to no anger for him, perhaps for old times sake, you always saw his good years before his bad ones. All you felt was devastation, betrayal. And you wanted to leave it at that. "Why, ever. Why'd you have to show up." You placed the back of your palm against your shut eyes, a sigh of desperation falling from your lips.

/

Hazy mornings and dreadful nights soon passed by, and you were determined to down your worries with the antipication of performance. Well that, and a hell of a lot of shots. Both usually effective. Besides, it isn't as if he was gonna show up at a sleazy, middle-aged frequented bar, like The Hideout right? "Ready?" You felt an arm flung on your shoulder, Eddie peeking through the curtains, the same four or five regulars throughout the bar. "As I'll ever be." You heaved a sigh. "Let's do this."

"Remember, it's just another Tuesday."

Eddie looks to you.

"It's just another Tuesday"

The five of you step to the stage, the usual greeting of scattered applause came to be. "Hey folks, we're Corroded Coffin, here to—" In that moment your eyes locked with none other than Steve Harrington. Farrah Fawcet Spray Harrington. BMW 733i Harrington. Your Harrington. What the hell was he doing here? How did he even know to be here?

Henderson.

Your grip on the on the standing mic tightening, you didn't realize you were spacing out until Jeff lightly elbowed you. "Here to serenade your evening! Try not to boo us yeah?" You earned a few chuckles, as well as a smile from him. It shouldn't matter. It shouldn't disrupt your breath and pace your heart. Especially not now. Not after all this time. You needed to focus. A few dollars now, maybe a record deal later. Dream impossible right?

"One, two, three, four,"

Gareth started off, hours of interrupted commentary practice seeming to pay off. As you began to let yourself pretend he wasn't peeling his eyes away from you, all he could do was stare. Admire. Regret. Envy. Every sort of emotion he had buried far too deep were clawing back.

Despite the occasional accidental eye contact, you'd count this set as a top five. The final strum rang through the bar and the loudest cheer was by none other than Steve Harrington. Your eyebrows furrowed, as his hand raised as his eyes met yours but you looked away, forcing a smile and a bow.

"Uh—thanks everybody! We're here every Tuesday."

He felt his heart sink as you scurried off to the back. "What the fuck was that Harrington." He cursed at himself, inhaling a sharp breath. Just as he was aggressively downing cheap beer he heard a familiar voice just not so far where he sat.

"The usual, Byers?" The bartender nodded, wiping down a glass. You hadn't realized a Hawkin's heartthrob had made his way to you, jittery and unsure but all he did was sit one chair away from you. Where's the others when you need them? Attempting the same cheesy lines on the only girl your age across the bar. Perfect. "Three shots of Silver Bullets for talent." Jonathan placed the two shots on the table. You shook your head. "Thanks. I didn't order a sweet little lie, but I'll take it." You seethed your teeth, the wanted sting lathering your throat. Never gets old. "Wasn't a lie, pretty lady." Jonathan walked off, serving another customer. There was slight irritation that Steve felt, really? Jonathan Byers? Of all people?

"Hey, rockstar."

You felt a shiver trickle down your spine, turning to an all too familiar. An all too familiar everything. And rockstar? Really? "Harrington." You pursed your lips, a thumb playing with your rings. "That was uh, real metal, you know." He almost immediately felt the shudder coursing through his body. He'd never used that word before Eddie said it. Once. Certainly didn't seem natural coming from him. If he was here, he'd never let Steve live that down. You stifled a chuckle, tinges of awkwardness for a moment washing away. "Never thought I'd live to see the day you use the word metal to describe something other than a skid plate." A curve tugged your lips.

"I tried, cut me some slack, alright?" He raised his hands, soft snickering inbetween. For a moment, the two of you shared a fit of laughter, and for a moment, it felt as if weights and hours and months didn't happen. As if it was Monday third period, and you two were failing to sneak away but running like hell anyway even as Principal Higgin’s voice threatened suspension echoed loud. But then again, it was just for a moment. You weren't gonna forgive and forget over some dumb joke.

Chugging down the last two shots, you slipped a twenty on the table and signaled to Jonathan. You called out to the others, "Hey! I'm heading out!" Eddie simply gave you a thumbs up as you walked off. Steve stood for a while, utter confusion sinking in. But he wasn't gonna let you go, not again. "Byers, how much?" He puts down a twenty-five and rushes out the door. He frantically runs to you as your engine was already turning on, helmet in hand.

"Wait!"

"No.”

You immediately say. His mouth agape,

"What? What do you mea—"

"You don't just ditch me and come back after I don't fucking know how long and act like nothing happened. You don't get to do that, Steve." Your breath hitched, about to put your helmet on, but your wrist was gently stopped. "Wait. Shit, look. Just, let me talk. Please? And I'll leave you alone, honest." He pleaded. You fell silent, biting the inside of your lip, looking to him again. But you nodded anyway. He breathed out of relief, running his fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry." He finally said. The two words you had yearned for him to speak, you actually hear. It's almost unreal. "For leaving. For ditching all of the sudden. Leaving you in the dark. It's," He paused. "It's all my fault. I'm honestly, so sorry." He whispered, looking you in your eyes. You gulped, placing the helmet down. "I just wanna know why." You croaked. This time, he didn't say a word; he didn't speak he didn't move, and honestly, you should've expected this.

"You know, Steve, somehow it stings more that all it took for us to drift apart was that I stopped calling you first. I stopped asking to hang out first. You had no courtesy to want to spend time with me. Did you just pity me all this time til I stopped asking for you to be my friend?"

"No! Never, of course it wasn't! Why would you—No!"

"Then what, Steve?"

You heard the desperation in vour voice and you pitied yourself. And again, he didn't speak. He didn't move, he didn't say anything. Instead he gazed afar, clear fickleness in his every move but you couldn't take it anymore.

"‘Course, I shouldn't expect anything from you."

You put on your helmet.

"See you around, Harrington."

And he only watch, regret, as the only thing that accompanied him now was residue smoke, dust and lulling crickets. He shut his eyes, head tipping back. Just as he walked to turn back, a certain guitarist stood, seemingly hearing the whole interaction. Steve halfed a smile, approaching him. "So you saw that?" Eddie clicked his tongue. "Just a bit, but, enough." Steve nodded, sitting on the concrete, Eddie following beside him. "You know, right? She told you?" He inhaled a sharp breath, looking to Eddie. "Yeah, she did." He paused. " know you saved the world and everything, but you were kind of a jerk, Steve." Eddie raised a brow as Steve laughed. "Yeah. More than kind of." He shook his head.

"I dont know what's stopping you," Eddie looked to him. "Do you want her back?" Steve could feel the tears sting as his eyes began to well up, but he'd sooner let Max drive his car again then cry in front of anybody. He gazed down his wrist, the black string you tied on him while the two of you were making fun of friendship bracelets still holding on. The answer was more than obvious, but he needed to voice it. Speak it. Do something about it. "More than anything." He gulped. "Then talk. Explain. Do something. That's all she wants. You know, the way she talks about you, despite everything, is as unambiguous sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen." Eddie placed a hand on his shoulder, grunting as he stood up. Dusting off his pants, he shot one last look at the most desperate he's ever seen Steve Harrington. "Best of luck, loverboy." Eddie chuckled, walking off. He tugged the string yet again, looser now then it was before, and he looked back to as you gracefully sung what he had no clue of, that the red string he had tied on your wrist as well, was still intact.

/

He silently cursed himself as he accidentally slammed the cardoor too hard, he didn't want to alarm you. As if his presence wasn't going to be an unwanted surprise itself, but he was already walking to your doorstep. Judging by the lack of your parent's cars and only your bike on the driveway, he concluded your folks were probably out of town again. And so, he rung the doorbell.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the faint ding echoed, pulling the damp towel off from around your neck. You threw on the shirt hung on your chair, hurriedly put on pants and headed downstairs. Mindlessly unlocking the door without so much as a peek through the peephole, the same asshole you blew off was now at your doorstep. Slightly out of breath and flushed. Not the point. "Wait, don't slam the door." Read your mind. "What's stopping me?" You kept your hand firm on the handle. “You don’t owe me anything, but if you’re willing to listen. I do owe you a proper explanation.” He managed to say. Seems rehearsed, almost. Which was true. He kept mumbling that on the ride here. Your eyes met his, guilt and anguish seeping through, and so go figure. “Fine, go.” You say. Though caught off guard, he took the chance.

"I'm sorry. For everything, honestly, it's the shittiest and dumbest thing I've ever done. My biggest regret. And you might hate me even more after this which I'd get." He ran his fingers through his hair, unable to look at you. He leaned one hand on the doorframe, jaw clenching. "I was just, so caught up in," He fidgeted, eyes fixated everywhere but you. And he fell to the silence again you hated more than anything. The apologies without so much as a reason. You bit the inside of your cheek, growing tired. "It's late, I'm tired, I don't have time for this, Harringt—" As you were about to slam, he held the door. After it all, after the mulling, the breathing, the tinged air, he looked to you, a poor excuse to hide his woe.

"Look, I was so used to flirting that didn't mean jackshit, hookups and all that, so, well,"

He exhaled a breathe.

"When your obnoxious singing didn't annoy me, and when your hand accidentally touched mine I didn't want you to let it go, or when you went on and on about a band I never heard of it just made my stomach all weird, like, good weird, and when you're just sitting next to me telling me the dumbest puns known to man it took everything in me not to fucking kiss you it,"

His breath quivered, with every word he strung together you felt as if reality was farther and farther within your grasp, and as if this was a spiel in your slumber you'd wake up to crave, but he was there, standing on your doorstep, and saying things you'd never knew he would ever think of. That Steve Harrington, your mystery, all this time, had all of this neatly tied in his harebrain mind and it was all too much for him that he disappeared.

"It scared me. Terrified me, so, so much. I didn't know what it was and I blamed you. I ran away from you. I hurt you. And that's the worst thing l've ever done in my life, and l'll never forgive myself for doing that to you." He cursed himself in his mind as he felt the salt stain his cheeks, quickly wiping them off, playing it off as if he had a nose itch. Your hand slipped off the handle, clenching your fist. This was only the second time you'd ever seen Steve Harrington how we was now, and you could feel your heart sink.

"I'm sorry."

He managed to whisper.

Your fingers itched, hesitant, but your thumb found it's way to wipe his cheek. His eyes widened, how he'd miss every bit of your warmth. He stepped closer, biting his lower lip slightly. "You're an idiot." You sighed, earning a smile. "I know." He breathed. "I never wanted to let go, you know." Your hand fell back to your side, his eyes widening slightly. “And whenever you yapped about your dumb car, my stomach was, weird, good weird, too." You shrugged, stepping back. His mind, his heart, his limbs, all of him grew weak, of all the things he had anticipated from his blurt of thoughts, from slammed doors and fits of screaming, it wasn't this. Definitely wasn't this. He stepped closer.

"Hey, rockstar."

His thumb trailed to your chin, frail, gentle. His heart racing too far he feared you could hear it.

“Yeah?”

You returned, placing a hand on his.

"Can I?"

You nodded, and surely after it all, the cries, the unspoken, his lips finally met yours, softly dancing and he breathed, held you, stood before you, touched you as if he'd break you if he did any other way. He smiled against your lips, as the door shut behind the two of you. Your lips soon parted, and you still could not believe what had just took place. You felt a smile, small, overcome you.

"So it really took you this long to finally kiss me, you, Hawkins High's womanizer?"

You raised a brow, and soon the glim of your living room erupted with his laughter, soft, shaking his head. "That title's long gone, thanks to you." He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. You tilted your head, shrugging. "Let's see where this goes first, why don't we, your big feelings are sorta scarin' me." You raised your hands as his laugh grew louder.

[fallinfl0wers]

hellooo! this is the first time i request something from a blog :D could i request headcanons of diluc, scara, kazuha and xiao when their s/o tells them they're pregnant and possibly how they'd get used to having a kid? tyy! dont forget to take breaks and relax!

Literally baby-sized trouble.

summary: you're pregnant! how does he react to the news and how do the get used to your child? includes: diluc (26 bullet points), scaramouche (24 bullet points), kazuha (17 bullet points) and xiao (35 bullet points) warnings: fem!reader, pregnancy, children, non-explicit/non described giving birth, mostly fluff with a little bit of hurt/comfort and angst. format: headcanons thank you for your request!! this was so fun to write! >< imagining the characters being soft with children is just so cute :") i specially like these four a lot >< when i wrote this i was in a xiao mood if it wasn't obvious that his turned out longer than everyone else's lol, and it's also the first time i write for kazuha so it was shorter than the others, but i think his is the sweetest ><! i hope you enjoy it! ps. the names and meanings- i got them from google, feel free to correct me if there's anything wrong with them ><

Diluc

He's going to stop functioning the moment he hears the news from you.

Literally, he's still as a rock and completely taken by surprise.

He... can't say he'd never wanted children. He's pretty traditional and, since he has this beautiful relationship with you, he assumed it might happen sometime in the future.

But oops guess it will have to happen in the close future, since you're already pregnant.

After staring at you with widened eyes for a while, he speaks up: "...is... is it true?" You hold his hands on yours with a smile on your face, nodding. "Yes, Diluc. We're going to be parents." Hearing your words, he starts to tear up as he hugs you, his touch almost hesitant, as if you were so fragile he could break you if he wasn't careful. "...thank you." He'd whisper between silent tears, hiding his face from your sight.

Very supportive and very protective!

You will have the most comfortable of pregnancies. He will make sure you don't need to move a single muscle to get anything you want.

If the two of you aren't married or engaged yet, he's going to propose to you very soon, keep that in mind ><

He starts reading every book he can find on pregnancies and babies so that he knows what to do to help you when you give birth and how to take care of his child once they're born ><

You have to convince him that yes, you can go and eat in the dining room and you don't need to eat everything in your room or stay in bed all day and yes, you can still do most things and no, he doesn't have to worry so much.

But yeah, in later stages of your pregnancy he gets more overprotective because he doesn't want anything to hurt you or your baby :(

He couldn't be calm enough while you gave birth and had to wait outside of the room, which only made him more nervous </3

But when he finally held your little baby on his arms for the first time, he broke down crying.

You two had a boy! He looked a lot like him, too... with the red hair and eyes... so cute...

He's not sure of what to name him, he'd thought of some names before, but they all disappeared when he saw the little bundle of joy in his arms;;

So you two will have to think about a name again!

In the end, you settle for Felix; name meaning "happy" or "lucky"!

Diluc is a very busy man, but he still does his best to be there for you and his son as much as possible!

He's also not very sure as to how he should interact with him...

But he does know he LOVES playing with him as soon as he starts to understand how to play with his toys.

But... there are not so cute parts about having a kid, after all.

At times, he worries whether or not he'll be able to be there enough for him.

He wonders if he can be a good father, given how awkward he is with his emotions.

What if when Felix grows up he starts hating him for being absent? He wouldn't be able to stand it.

You always reassure him as you both put the baby to sleep on his crib.

All Diluc wants is for his son to have a happy childhood and a loving family, but worries he won't be good enough of a father.

However, when Felix's first word is "'iluc!" as he stretches out his tiny arms towards him, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can do this right.

Scaramouche

He thought you were joking, so he laughed.

When you didn't laugh along with him and was met with your blank face, he understood you were serious.

He never even thought he'd be with anyone in a relationship before you came along, let alone have a child with anyone... So he's obviously very shocked and confused as to how to proceed.

After an awkward moment of staring at each other, he cleared his throat and crossed his arms, looking at you with an equally blank face. "So? What do you want me to do about it?" "H-huh?" "In the sense of- what do you want to do? Keep it or not." You huffed, and when he heard your determinated answer, he sighed and gave your head some soft pats. "Alright, alright, whatever you want, I guess."

Okay listen here- it's not like doesn't care but it isn't like he cares so much either...

This man would do anything for you, really, and that's what happens.

He does anything and everything for you, because he's worried about you and not necessarily about the baby you're carrying.

It's not like he hates children- because you can't hate anything you don't perceive as equal or superior to you and a baby ceirtainly isn't either for him-

It's more like he doesn't know what to do with them because he's never been around children enough to understand them.

He's overall very indifferent towards the child ngl.

Then he sees you cradling your baby -a girl- in your arms and his mind just... goes blank. Huh, so that's what a human looks like right after being born.

Your little daughter looks more like him than she looks like you, sorry. But he can clearly see on her face some factions that will look like yours as she grows up.

But...

"Now what?"

He'll help you look after her however he can, since he doesn't want you to be too tired because he never knows when he'll have to leave for weeks or even months without notice.

He's not entirely cold or indifferent towards her, even if sometimes he might resent her a bit for taking away some of your attention.

But like when you were choosing a name for her, he gave a few suggestions and in the end you choose one of the names he thought of!

Her name is Hikari, name meaning "light"!

Due to the nature of his job, he doesn't want to be seen around either of you at the moment in public. It would only put a target on your backs.

And it takes a long, long while for him to warm up to her.

It disheartens you a little, but when you see him looking down at Hikari's sleeping form on the crib, softly poking her cheek with a strangely child-like curiosity on his eyes, you feel at ease.

And he thinks that he can probably handle this parenting thing better than he ever expected. Maybe it's not that bad, after all.

Ceirtainly, he thinks, as he holds her in his arms one day after she spoke her first word to him, this parenting thing is not really that bad.

(Her first word was "papa!")

Be ready, because once he gets attached to your daughter he won't stop spoiling her!

Kazuha

"Are you sure, love?" "Yes, I'm sure. We're having a child!" A smile painted itself on his face as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. "I hope I can be a good father for them."

So the Kaedehara family is getting a new member, huh!

Not that there's much left to his name, especially now that he's a fugitive... but he's excited nonetheless!

Although he's not one to settle down for long, he will make an effort for both you and the child, since it's not good for someone who's pregnant to wander around.

He's very protective, but not in an overbearing way! He simply wants you to take it easy and relax, he can take care of everything else on his own!

That being said, he's not rich like Diluc or Scaramouche, so he's also going to work harder than ever to get everything you or the baby need in advance so that neither of you have to stress out!

He's the one who takes it better out of everyone here, he's not extremely worried or outright indifferent, he's simply worried enough, excited and happy!

He already knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, so the idea of having a child with you didn't scare him or intimidate him in the slightest!

He's still a bit worried, though.

He is a wanted fugitive in his homeland, after all...

He can only do so much and wish for the situation in Inazuma to change soon, so that he can take both you and his child to see the places he loved to spend his time at when he was a child.

But for now, he's happy enough simply holding his child on his arms, sitting next to you in your small shared home.

You have a girl too! She has Kazuha's hair color and your eye color, she's super adorable ><

He wants you to name her, and you both agree on naming her Izumi, meaning fountain or spring!

"Kaedehara Izumi... it has a nice ring to it." He'd say, smiling down at her.

While Kazuha enjoys travelling more than anything in this world, he's reticent to leave you and your daughter alone or even bring you along with him. So he stays around for as long as you need it.

He will talk a lot to her all the time, so don't be surprised when she picks up very complicated, flowery words from a young age!

He wants her to grow up to be free as the wind and be able to do whatever she wants without fear, so he wants to do his best to be a good father for her!

Xiao

You can practically see the panic on his face when you tell him the news.

It's the most scared you've ever seen him be, and you've been there to help him through his karmic debt.

So yeah, he takes it the worst out of everyone.

"I'm not mad." He manages to tell you before disappearing to somewhere else in a panicked haze, he needs to sort out his emotions quickly before he can properly talk to you about it. The last thing he saw before he disappeared was your eyes, glinting with sadness. And that only made him feel worse if that was even possible.

It takes him the whole day to come to terms with his feelings on your pregnancy and finally face you again.

He's really, really afraid of hurting you and your child. Not to mention he fears he might've passed some kind of curse from his karma to either of you through the pregnancy :(

Like he said, he isn't mad. He's just scared.

He... he literally never, never thought he would get to be a father.

Family was a foreign concept to him, as were a lot of other things you've slowly helped him understand throughout your time together, so knowing he can have one of his own now... makes him happy, and scared, at the same ime.

He's worse than Diluc when it comes to protecting you and worrying about you.

He won't let you do anything alone, even if he doesn't want to be near you because he doesn't want the karma to harm you or your child in such a vulnerable moment of your lives.

Okay so that aside-

How do people care for babies?

What is he exactly supposed to do?

And- do half-adepti babies need any sort of special treatment in comparison to human babies?

He has no idea on what to do if it doesn't involve a physical fight with a tangible foe, so he goes asking for advice to everyone he knows that could have knowledge on that field.

Verr Goldet and Ganyu are a great help for him. Xiao listens with attention to everything they have to say and asks everything he doesn't understand.

Ganyu tells him about her own experience growing up as half-human so that he can understand what raising a half-human, half-illuminated beast baby might entail.

He also goes to Zhongli for advice and he gets more of the same advice he's already heard, along with many, many reassurances that sound like everything you already tell him every day.

He's very worried, but as the months go by and your child's birth comes closer, he can't help but feel a little excited about it.

Everyone who knows him is happy to see him openly happy for a change on those small moments when he gets excited about his new family with you.

When your child is born, Xiao doesn't want to hold him. It took too much willpower to stay as close as he was right now, standing next to your bed as you held your baby in your arms.

He was so adorable, so small, so fragile, so pure- Xiao was afraid of touching him and breaking or tainting him--

He was already crying, he'd started crying the moment he saw you holding your son for the first time.

He feels so... strange. He's crying, but this isn't a painful, or sad feeling. He feels... happy, but scared, but...

The feeling starts to make some sense to him when he finally convinces himself that it's okay for him to hold the little boy in his arms, when he stares with awe at his face.

The baby looks a lot like the both of you. Arguably, more like him, since he has the same hair and the same bright eyes, but in his face all he can see is you.

And he cries more.

You both named him Liàng, name meaning brilliant!

Xiao does his best to try and get used to parenting, and it gets hard at times.

But he tries, and that's all that matters. He tries to be a good father, and is always there to protect both you and your son from anything trying to harm you.

Even though he was so scared at first, you know he loves the new family you've formed together.

Especially when you catch him trying to hold a conversation with your son, sitting down on the bed next to him as he toys with a soft teddy bear, the two of them surrounded by pillows.

The soft look and smile he wears while he does so tells you that everything is going to be alright.

The three of you are going to be alright, and Xiao wants to make sure of it.

His son will never have to live what he lived or see what he saw. He will make sure of that, no matter what.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

s.o.s, m | knj

pairing(s): namjoon x reader

summary: It's two in the morning and Kim Namjoon is at your doorstep, asking you to fuck. In a fuckbuddies way, because, as a wise man once said, "I may not know love, but I know snacks." Well, you do agree with this statement. Let's go with the flow!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamics, blowjob, cowgirl); friends-with-benefits and feels through fucking (classic for me, haha, maybe I fell in love with him while writing it, oops)

happy birthday, Kim Namjoon <3 #happyRMday

--

now playing – pado by bibi

“Hey!”

“Shit, Namjoon, are you trying to break my door down at two in the morning or what? What’s with you? Why didn’t you just type in the lock?”

Kim Namjoon’s large frame and big brown eyes glanced at the silver-blue electronic number pad on your apartment door. “Oh. Right. I forgot you had that now.”

“I have it because you keep losing my key!”

He rubbed the back of his now blond head sheepishly. He must have dyed it recently because it had been dark brown last week. It was shorter than before, trimmed at the sides and longer at the top. Usually it was styled, but right now it was messy and puffy like he had been running across the city on those long legs of his or, more likely, windblown from riding his bicycle on his way here.

Namjoon didn’t drive. He said it was to maintain world peace.

“Do you wanna fuck?” he asked you breathlessly.

You looked down at your massive black sleep shirt that made you look like a lump of fabric, but, well, he picked today to pop the question and what were you gonna do? Say no?

You snapped back up, smacking your finger on your left wrist. “It’s two in the morning!”

“One forty-five, yeah,” Namjoon agreed, glancing at his brown leather-banded, white-faced watch. Simple and sleek. You noticed he had a few colorful string-woven bracelets on his wrists, likely handmade by someone in the various rural villages Namjoon liked to visit in his spare time. He dropped his arm and smiled brilliantly at you with those dimpled cheeks.

“I was thinking about you. You know, that habit you do when you run your hand through your hair and flick your wrist at the end, elegantly spreading your fingers out. Super sexy.”

You felt your ears heat. “Hahah… what?”

He scratched his head and stuck his hands in his loose black pants, draping his warm gray t-shirt over his wrists. Lowered his chin and flickered his eyes to you, awkward half-smile on those full lips.

Oh.

Shit.

“D… Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, backing up and shifting your eyes. “You always do that.”

“Do what?” Namjoon chirped, stepping inside and out of his brown sandals.

“Give me those puppy eyes even though you’re built like a fucking tank.”

“I snore like one too.”

“Yeah, I know.”

But none of those things really mattered because your arm was snaking up, your other hand slapping the door closed, looking down until you couldn’t look down anymore, lifting your head to playful dark brown orbs and a dimpled smile, already leaning down, his scent of warm cotton and faint florals washing over you, and then his lips touched yours and it was over.

You could say no, you could, but you never really wanted to.

Namjoon wasn’t being rude showing up so late. After all, you had already told him it was one of your fantasies, a late-night rendezvous, a bit of unexpected expected fun. Namjoon was willing to help, a game of ping-pong between casual, sometimes lovers, both too busy and scatterbrained at this point in life to commit to anything, but that worked for you and for him, or at least that’s what you told him and what he told you, his large hands now encircling your back, fingertips pressed into the thin fabric, sighing into your mouth, rhythm of those long fingers dancing up, up, sinking into your hair, tangling himself in it, nibbling at your lower lip.

“I just love touching your hair,” that deep, deep voice whispered to your lips, eyes still closed, smirking as the tip of your tongue darted out, playing with him as he spoke. “And I like messing it up a little.”

“A little? You like messing it up a lot.”

Namjoon curled his fingers inward and pulled back, your head following automatically, grinning with you as he opened his eyes, devious even with the dimples.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.”

It wasn’t fun if it wasn’t with him.

You raised your hand and spread your fingers out, slowly running your nails up and then down his chest, smirking back at him, your tongue peeking out between your teeth.

Namjoon once said to you, let’s just go with the flow, ride the wave.

He sucked in a breath right now and pulled you close, hands letting go of your hair as he captured your lips again, deep, ravenous kisses that took your breath away, such wonderful lips that loved to travel across your body and wander that wonderland, his hands already reaching for the hem of your shirt, bunching it up as he stumbled back into your apartment, dragging you with him, you riding the wave of his passion, dragging his shirt up with yours, tossing them aside, body to body, exploring lips on that warm skin and muscular chest.

Namjoon also said things like, I may not know love, but I know snacks, so, yeah, he was always poetic like that. Full of wisdom and weirdness, arguably the best combination one could have when struggling through this nonsensical world.

You pushed him down on the bed, kissing all that tan skin, running your nails down his shoulders, walking down his defined biceps finger by finger, digging in a little harder, pairing it with kisses and drawing stars on his pecs with your saliva, making him smile and flash those dimples.

“Like that?” you teased, drawing back a little so he could watch the mastery of your tongue at work.

“You know me,” Namjoon chuckled, the sound radiating from his chest to your mouth, sending ripples through your spine. “I like cute things with a little pinch.”

“Like those tiny beach crabs?”

Now he actually laughed, that throaty, booming laugh of his, nodding with affirmation.

You sometimes wondered when the waves would stop and roll out, sometimes wondered if the tide of Kim Namjoon would go low and leave you behind, but maybe it was the moon or something, cosmic threads that sent him rushing back to your beach, bright and sparkling, always catching the light and looking good from every angle.

“Fuck, I always forget you’re huge.”

“I am not huge. You are being dramatic.”

“Dramatically sucking your dick.”

You knew how to take his breath away, how to make him gasp and his hand fly to your head, groaning as he pushed you down, your throat closing around his rapidly swelling length, tongue all over in the small window you had to wetly caress every contour and vein, bobbing your head in time with his gentle nudges, waiting for you and your jaw to adjust before thrusting a little harder, a little rougher, choppy waves and lost breath. His scent filled your nose, his toned hips in your hands, digging your nails into that muscle, inhaling and drowning in the feeling, pressing him between tongue and roof of your mouth, feeling the head hitting your throat, so you tightened your muscles.

Namjoon moaned your name, brown orbs turning darker from dilated pupils.

It filled your ears and soaked into your chest, your heart pumping faster, beating harder, drawn to the sound like a sailor to a siren.

You took him deeper, pulsing around the head, sticking your tongue out a little to lap at his balls collected in your hands.

“A-Ah, fuck… You’re always so, so good… always making me think of you…”

You watched his eyes close, his hand gripping your hair, not unkind, simply adding a little bit of force, but you were in control of the pace, riding the wave, filling your mouth with his hardness over and over, closing your own eyes, small tears collecting at the corners, unable to breathe, but you already knew you were diving and you practiced for this, holding your breath and bobbing your head fast and tight, your fingernails clawing at his sides just the way he liked, a little neediness, a little desperation, maybe an act or maybe not, honestly hard to tell with how often you had blown him, so maybe it was part of you now, just like how sometimes you would be alone and smell his scent even though Namjoon wasn’t there at all, maybe real but probably an olfactory memory, strange that it would happen just like that, a wave of warm cotton and faint florals that you drank in small trickles right now, your mouth occupied with his thick length, listening to the sloppy, wet sound of his cock being swallowed over and over again by your suffocating mouth, saliva sliding over his balls and onto your chin.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

Pushing you down, forcing you to deep dive, swallowing on instinct, clamping your lips around his jerking cock with every gulp of gushing cum, the strong salty taste lingering in the back of your tongue as your throat was stuffed with the swollen head. Namjoon shuddered deeply, resonating pleasure that drifted down his torso and through your fingertips. You lapped up anything you missed, sucking it off and Namjoon hissed at the sensitivity, tugging at your hair sharply.

You hummed and retreated a little, breathing again, licking the underside of the tip, wiggling your tongue over the slit and around head, opening your eyes to Namjoon’s panting smile.

“You want me to punish you or what?”

Nah, you wanted to ride the wave, but this particular wave was pretty fucking big.

“Oooh, fuck…!”

Namjoon raised his arms and grabbed your pillows, thrusting his hips up into your pussy after you had lowered halfway. The condom wrapper flew off the bed, probably to be found in some random place in your room tomorrow morning.

A later you problem.

Hands on his chest, sinking down, gasping for breath at the forced stretch at his girth, but it was nicer that way, wet and getting wetter, spreading your knees and arching your back, your hair falling down your shoulders, rolling your body to smack down onto his crotch, fuck, so hard and so full, starting a rough, choppy rhythm because Namjoon was deliberately not letting you set up a reasonable pace and kept thrusting up a little too fast, a little too hard, hot moans tumbling out of your mouth, feeling the crashing pleasure try to overtake you, drawing your knees back in to feel all of him, your palms sliding up, grasping those strong shoulders, lowering your head to speak to those sultry brown orbs reflecting your open mouth and half-lidded gaze.

“Namjoon… please, oh, f-fuck… if you’re gonna be like this, j-just fuck me…!”

He grinned, dimples on display.

“Anything for you.”

Mayday, mayday, you needed to be saved from that teasing smile and those words.

His hands fitted to your shaking hips and held you up easily, lifting his hips up at a deep, hard pace, emphasis on strength and less on speed, the muscles of his arms tense and locked to keep you above him as he slammed his hard cock into your pussy.

“Ah, yes, yes, right there, Namjoon, yes…”

You could go deeper so you did, slapping your hips down too and making Namjoon grin under you. Shit, something about those round cheeks and bright smile while he was railing you practically to heaven was doing something to you, washing out your senses and giving you no time to think, squeezing him inside you and feeling him twitch back, something so sexy about how he could do that even while fucking you, and you saw him suck in a breath, witnessing your effect on him, his hold becoming tighter, his dark lashes lowering, hooded eyes and locking with your gaze.

Drowning in the pleasure with you.

“Come on, you want it, right?” he panted under you, voice so deep it felt like you were underwater, your skin vibrating with the seductiveness of his tone and the depth of his sound mixing with the harsh slaps of skin to skin, wet and wonderful. “Show me you want it, give it to me.”

You couldn’t say no, already tightening your core and smacking down on him harder before he could even finish speaking, the ecstasy shooting up your spine and pouring all over your scalp and mind, letting go, pitched cries and blissful moans, Namjoon moaning with you, your name on his lips and filling up your bedroom, clutching his shoulders and staring into his eyes, breathing in warm cotton and faint florals, cast away into a wild paradise.

You clenched around him and gasped, a powerful jolt rocking through you, surprised at the sudden squelch but then you felt the overwhelming rush barreling through you, sweeping you into pulsing pleasure, one of your hands losing grip and grabbing onto the pillow beside Namjoon’s head, his heavy breath and your exhaled name blowing over on your prickling skin, realizing you were accidentally closer than usual because your hand slipped, his hands tightly wrapped around your waist and slamming you down onto his crotch, groaning and tipping his head back, his eyes closing, Adam’s apple prominent against his flexed neck.

If possible, suddenly you could breathe even less.

Your pussy throbbed around his twitching cock, his orgasm spurting into the condom and your juices soaking his skin with each flinch of the aftermath, wave after wave crashing into you, your arms trembling to hold yourself up so you could absorb it all – him, the dwindling pleasure, the moment when his eyes opened, your name drifting out of those lips in a lustful haze.

“I should… go back to mine, huh…” he wheezed, chuckling slightly. “Otherwise, I’m going to snore too loud and you’re not going to be able to sleep…”

You slid down, closer, closer, seeing the mole underneath his lower lip with his rueful smile. His fingers were drawing circles on your hips.

“I bought earplugs.”

You silenced his laugh with a kiss.

--

masterpost

[katyasrussianaccent]

i don't wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips (corpse x reader)

Summary: Corpse suggests you flirt with each other to mess with the fans. What happens when you suddenly catch feelings?

Authors Note: This has been in my brain for so long so I decided to write it. May or may not write a part 2, im not sure. Lemme know what you think! My requests are open for fic/headcannons aswell 💖

It should have been simple.

Flirt, mess with the fans a little, sit back and relax.

It should have been simple.

You remember Corpse coming to you with the idea.

“Why would we do that?” you had asked, frowning at your phone screen. It had been another late night phone conversation with him; something that was starting to become a regular occurrence.

You pictured him shrug as he answered. “Fun?”

“Are you so bored you wanna make a fake relationship with me?”

“Not a relationship. Just do what we do now, but like, more.”

You had agreed before your brain had even registered it. On paper it was straightforward. You already flirted a little anyway, you were naturally a flirtatious person, and so was he. It made sense; or at least you had told yourself that it did. You knew the fans already shipped you together, you saw the things they tweeted as you occasionally lurked the ynhusband tag on Twitter. It was just innocent fun right? No-one was going to get hurt.

For a little while that was true. For a little while he called you baby and you called him darling and it meant nothing. Your face didn’t feel flush when he commented on your latest Instagram post and your heart didn’t do a little flip when he would call you just to see how you were. The phone conversations were your favourite; curled up in bed with the phone on your pillow, trading secrets into the night. He had suddenly become this constant in your life, this almost routine familiarity like brushing your teeth or going to get milk.

You weren’t sure what changed, when it had gone from being innocent fun to meaning something. It was like someone had flicked a switch, and Corpse was no longer a warm glow but this bright, blinding light that hurt your eyes to look at too long. It was almost cruel, the way you wanted something so unobtainable; the universe’s idea of a joke had no humour in it. The thing with Corpse was he was so unaware of the power he had. He was mysterious yes, but he was faceless among a sea of faces; of course people were drawn to him. And you were just another.

You started to pull away. You played different games with different people, you ignored his tweets. It was easier, if you never interacted with him, you could pretend there was nothing but shallow feelings instead of the crashing waves that threatened to pull you under. The fans had started to notice; your streams were filled with questions that you refused to answer.

“Where’s Corpse?” you read aloud as you scrolled down the chat. “Probably in his house? Go ask him.” Your tone was bitter even to you and you inwardly cringed. He hadn’t contacted you in 2 weeks, and while you were thankful, you were hurt by it. It was stupid and hypoctritical of you to be upset by something that was your own doing, and you weren’t sure what you had expected from him. He had other friends, other people to talk to, why would he have cared about you anyway?

Your phone lit up next to you, and you ignored the pang of disappointment at Rae’s picture flashing up.

Rae: Among Us???

You hesitated for a second. The likelihood of Corpse being there was high, but you knew deep down he wouldn’t say a thing to you, not on stream or in front of your friends. You could just ignore him, like you had been doing and it would be fine. You weren’t sure you believed yourself anymore.

“Guys, you want to watch me play Among Us? I’m not sure who’s playing, other than Rae.” You looked at the fast flowing stream of affirmatives and emojis. Guess you had to do it now. You opened up the game and joined the lobby.

“-yeah she looks really fucking cute,” you heard Corpse say as you logged in. You looked down at your outfit,; he definitely wasn’t talking about you in your oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. You had been on stream for a few hours now; your eyeliner was smudged a little and any lipstick had worn off with the constant drinking and licking your lips. No, he definitely wasn’t talking about you.

“Hey guys,” you said tentatively, swallowing down the feeling of jealousy at Corpse’s previous words.

A chorus of greetings hit you, and you smiled at their enthusiasm. You had played with Rae, Sykunno and Toast a few times before, but Felix, Jack and Ash were new to you, though you knew of them.

“Hey Y/N,” Corpse said. You had hoped after 2 weeks he wouldn’t still affect you so much, but the way your stomach turned said otherwise.

“Hey Corpse,” you replied, hoping your tone was casual.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?” he asked.

“Oh. Uh yeah, I’ve been a bit busy I guess, how are you?” You looked down as you answered, picking at your nail polish. You glanced at the chat that was filled with messages.

corpsesbaby: You can always tell when someones lying coz they look down” llamadelrey: why is this so awkward lmao arent they friends??” simpsforrae: This is like is a breakup i swear

“I’ve been okay, thanks” Corpse answered, drawing your eyes off the chat and back to the game. You nodded as you muted your mic to go back to your stream.

“I hope I don’t get imposter, I always suck at that so much.” You watched as the screen counted down and the word IMPOSTER flashed up alongside Corpse’s name. “Guess I jinxed it guys.”

Great. Not only were you imposter, you were imposter with Corpse, which meant you would have to actually speak to him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to.

You both followed Rae as she walked up towards Greenhouse, and you cornered her while she did her task, killing her quickly.

“Everyone seemed to go right, so we should vent back towards cafeteria to avoid suspicion,” Corpse said.

“Okay,” you answered. You vented together, and you muted your mic to laugh. “This is kinda cosy guys.” You said to your chat. You briefly imagined what it would be like in real life to be so close to him.

You moved to Admin where Toast was doing his task. Before you could say a word, Corpse had already killed him and you both vented outside Cafeteria. “Fuck, that was so close,” you muttered, chuckling a little.

“Don’t worry, I got your back,” he replied, making your heart sing a little.

“Oh my hero,” you said, making a point of swooning to your chat, your voice high and airy. “How will I ever repay you?”

He chuckled, “You shouldn’t ask questions like that.”

You flushed at the suggestive tone he had taken, and you hoped it wasn’t noticeable but judging by the comments in your chat, it clearly had been. This was another issue you had with Corpse; he always made these type of comments with you and it was really annoying. You knew there was no chance he was being serious, and sometimes you wished he would stop it purely because it got your hopes up.

delilah: shes BLUSHING dreamofme: uWu yn uWu

You opened your mouth to respond when Dead Body Reported flashed up, bringing your thoughts back to the game.

“Toast and Rae are dead,” Sykuuno said. “I found Rae in Greenhouse and Toast in admin.”

“I was in balcony, I went there from the cafeteria,” you said confidently. You hated being Imposter, especially being teamed with Corpse, who was so good at the game, you had a lot of pressure to do well.

“I was in MedBay, I didn’t see you YN,” Ash accused.

“You only see if they enter through the left door. She entered through the other door,” Corpse answered for you.

“And how do you know that?” Felix asked.

“I was in Cafeteria,” Corpse replied.

“You could’ve vented YN,” Jack said.

“No I couldn’t have, if Ash was in MedBay, she would have seen me. Unless she wasn’t in MedBay,” you suggested, smirking to your cam as you muted. “It’s not going too bad I don’t think? Always feel like I’ve been arrested when I’m Imposter.”

“Little sus of you Ash to say you were in MedBay when you weren’t,” Corpse said. You gaped a little at how easy it was for him to manipulate the situation, it was almost scary.

Ash argued as the other players began to agree and discuss among themselves. You smiled in success at the text on the screen.

Ash has been ejected.

You split up this time, and while you hadn’t really spoken during the game, you kind of missed Corpse’s astronaut next to yours, and you said that to your chat. “Haha, our colours did look cute together, I agree.”

Any previous trepidation you had had disappeared as soon as you had heard his voice; and you realised how much you had missed him. You would simply just need to deal with your feelings; they would go away eventually anyway. You just hoped it wasn’t too late for you to start again with him.

You walked to MedBay with Skyunno, making small talk as you did.

“I’m glad to see you playing with us, it’s been a little while,” he said and you felt bad that you would have to kill him. As you turned towards him, ready to kill as he did his task, Jack walked in. You mouthed oops at the cam.

“What’s going on here?” Jack asked, suspicion in his voice.

“I was just saying how nice it was to have YN here,” Sykunno replied. You stood and faked your task, watching the green bar fill as you did. It would be too risky to kill here.

“Ah yeah, Corpse has been asking after you constantly,” Jack said. You blinked at the response, it had caught you off guard.

“Oh?” you replied simply. You mentally shrugged it off. Of course he would have asked about you, you were friends, that was all.

DEAD BODY REPORTED

“Felix was dead in Reactor,” Corpse announced. “Oh Corpse, you’re taking a risk here” you said to your chat.

“I was in MedBay with Jack and Sykunno,” you replied, smiling as they agreed. “Where were you Ash?”

She sighed sadly. “I was in Labs, but I was doing a task, I swear!” You all agreed quickly that Ash would be the next voted out.

“2 to go,” you said triumphantly. “I thought I was gonna drag Corpse down, but it’s going okay!”

The round started again and you could feel yourself getting tired. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too much longer to finish the game.

You circled round Corpse a few times, hoping that he would understand your signal. Luckily he did, and you both vented to Decontamination where Skyunno and Jack were. The room had already started to emit steam, making it extremely easy for you both to vent unnoticed and kill them both.

You grinned at the Victory message that flashed up.

“Good game guys!” you said. The others congratulated you and Corpse on your win and you smiled at the sound of your names together. You had it bad.

“It was all YN,” Corpse said.

“Pfft you ssh being humble, it was all you,” you replied, taking your hair out of your ponytail and running your hand through it.

“Your hair looks nice,” Corpse commented and your eyes widened. Your heart started to beat a little quicker. How long had he been watching your stream?

“It’s bad to watch someone’s stream without telling them,” you replied, making a show of pouting for the camera.

He laughed a little. “What can I say, I’m a bad guy,” he said, singing the last words. You laughed at the sudden Billie Eilish.

“Guys, either play another game, or get a room,” Felix interrupted. You blushed a little and rolled your eyes, the chat going crazy from the corner of your eye.

“And that’s my cue to exit,” you said, yawning. “Bye guys, have a good night!” You wished everyone and your chat goodnight before closing the stream and leaning back in your chat. You couldn’t believe Corpse had been watching you. You hadn’t said anything too incriminating, but still.

You prepared for bed, settling back into the softness of your pillows as you grabbed your phone - a terrible habit you really needed to stop.

Corpse: Can I call you?

You gulped at the message that appeared on your screen, a gnawing feeling of nervous clung to your throat as you typed yes. His name came up almost instantaneously and your hand shook as you pressed to accept the call.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even while your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“It was nice playing with you again,” he commented.

You sat up a little as you held the phone against your ear. “Did you call me to tell me that?”

“I haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

You sighed a little. “Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy, sorry - “

“You’re lying to me and I don’t know why,” he replied. You had never heard his voice like that before; so angry and hurt. You tapped your foot against your mattress as you thought what to say.

“I -”

“Did I do something?” he asked. You had been so selfish; blocking him out to avoid being hurt, but you hadn’t thought about his feelings. He was more popular than you were, you had assumed he would be fine, that he wouldn’t care if you were around or not.

“No, you didn’t do anything, I swear -”

“Then what? Because I thought we were friends, close friends and then suddenly you pretty much disappear. But you’re still streaming with other people. It’s pretty shitty of you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek and looked up, the sting of tears threatening to fall. “It was really shitty of me, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” he asked. “Please just tell me.”

“I don’t know what I’m meant to say,” you replied softly.

“What do you want to say?”

You blinked, the anticipation of unspoken words caught in your throat, making it hard to swallow. The taste of them was bitter on your tongue. “I...I have feelings for you.”

There. You had said it. There was no taking it back now, and you felt like your heart was about to shatter with every single second of silence that passed. You could hear him swallow on the other end of the phone. “Are you saying you’re in love with me?”

You bit your lip, taking in the meaning of the question he had asked. It wasn’t something you had thought of, you hadn’t conceptualised your feelings for him, not put them in a box labelled love or anything. “I don’t know. I feel something for you. And it kinda sucks being your friend and having those feelings. So I pulled away.”

“Why does it suck?”

You laughed bitterly. “Why wouldn’t it? Feeling something for someone that doesn’t feel the same is fucking shitty.”

“I asked you to flirt with me YN -”

“Yeah, for fun,” you interrupted.

“No, I said for fun, but really I just wanted you to,” he replied. “I feel something for you too. How could I not? Has anything I’ve ever said to you sounded like it was just for fun?” You smiled at his response, your heart no longer on the fit of breaking, but suddenly doing flips and soaring through your chest, radiating warmth through your body.

“Oh,” you said, your brain was overloaded with thoughts, and was apparently no longer capable of coherent sentences.

“Oh? That’s a great response, thanks,” he teased, but you could tell he was smiling as he spoke.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that, I don’t really know what to say honestly,” you replied.

“Well, baby, how about you say yes to a date?” he asked.

“Yes.”

[tracybirds]

Not quite sure how to do the star, but something for Mechanic?

Thank you :D no worries the sparkles are not necessary, I just like them lol

and oof I am definitely rusty but hey this was fun :D I have been thusly entertained for a morning, thank you! So I rolled “See The Day” by The Altogether and the lyrics “Dive out of nothing into something more | But I can’t quite tell what I’m hoping for” has very loosely inspired this :) It’s an awesome song, very soft and fresh start vibes!

(and then Brains wanted some words so oops it’s now 1800 words long lol)

[send me a character and I’ll write a (maybe) short fic based on a random song]

---

He wakes up and there’s light streaming in the window.

He hasn’t seen light nearer than fifteen lightyears away in months. The Hex had been angled away from the sun, “for his own protection” the GDF agents charged with his security would sneer, their voices echoing around him in the darkness.

He knew more about radiation than all of the dim-witted fools they’d charged with guarding him. It caused too slow a death for one trapped eternally among the stars.

But the darkness matters no longer.

His hands sink into the mattress as he pushes himself upright into a realm of suspicion. The landscape is unfamiliar, the birds’ strange song twining together with the crash of waves in all direction, and he knows where he is.

The thought strikes him again.

He knows where he is.

He’d expected a new cell, not this.

Stepping over the clothes that had been laid out for him, he tugs forcefully on the door knob, jumping back as the door swung inwards.

A small, old lady sitting in a wicker chair jumped at his appearance, but soon settled into a calm smile.

“Mechanic. You’re up. How are you this morning?”

He stares.

She tuts.

“No matter, no matter. We’re glad you pulled through.”

“What do you need?”

“Your help,” she says simply.

There’s no pretence in her words and out of the darkness, a familiar conversation floats into his mind.

“You got me out.”

“Personally? Not at all. You’ll have to thank your rescuers later.”

“Thank them?”

“It’s good manners. Do you want breakfast?”

His stomach growls at him but he squashes its protestations.

“No.”

“Oh, you’re just like my boys,” she says, looking disappointed. “They find an early breakfast discomforting. No matter, go and get dressed and I’ll take you down to Brains.”

“I’m fine.”

She shrugs.

“Suit yourself. The rest of the family are on a mission, so it’ll just be the three of us for lunch. Any requests?”

“No.”

She eyes him sharply.

“Not eating won’t help you. We aren’t going to poison you and we aren’t willing to let you starve yourself.”

“Why do you care? You’re not going to let me go.”

“We need you. After that we can ensure a fair trial for you, and we’ll fight for the same for the Hood. It’s a better deal than you had.”

The galling truth was he knew it. He only had to consider the cost.

“If I don’t help?”

“We can’t force you. We’ll still begin legal proceedings against the GDF on your behalf, if you wish it, and ensure those you harmed receive justice and that you have a chance to rehabilitate.”

She pauses.

“It wasn’t right, leaving you up there. You might not believe us, but we’d have fought it either way. Just not so… explosively, if it weren’t urgent.”

He says nothing.

“Come along then. Brains knows what we need better than I. You don’t have to decide now. But I hope you help us.”

She leads him down through a labyrinth of corridors, the sunlight growing fainter and fainter and the air getting colder and colder. He spies hints of life as they descend; a tennis racquet leaning against a wall, a forgotten mug on a counter, a trail of clothes that lead to a pile of abandoned laundry. The twists and turns are carefully catalogued – he’ll be damned if he can’t find his own way in and out of this maze – and they finally end as they pass through an archway into a cavernous space carved into the island itself.

“Brains,” the old lady calls, and he watches as the engineer starts, pausing his diagnostics to meet them.

He doesn’t care about swapping pleasantries with the man he owes his mind too, doesn’t want to face the debt owed. It’s not fair of them to call him on it.

He looks down, turning his back on the advancing man.

“What’s your name?”

She pats his elbow reassuringly.

“Everyone calls me Grandma. Dr Tracy is too formal for our little island.”

“I am not calling you ‘Grandma’.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I’m not going to help either.”

“If you say so. But talk to Brains first.”

“Hello.”

He knows that quiet voice, has heard it a hundred times over since their first confrontation. He’d known then that he’d recognised it, and now he was about to put a face to the name.

He blinks.

“Hiram?”

Hiram squints behind his glasses.

“You… know mm-me?”

“We all knew you,” he says, dumbfounded. “I didn’t exactly stay in touch with our peers.”

“I’ll let you two catch up,” says Dr Tracy, looking all too pleased.

They say nothing as she leaves.

“Did she know?”

“Probably,” replies Hiram, looking amused. “She knows a lot m..more that she tells.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.”

He stares. He remembers Hiram’s lonely figure as he walked between library and lab on campus – the only teenager in the doctoral program, and the only one who had no-one standing by his side as he accepted each of his academic accolades.

He knows Brains wasn’t yet sixteen when he’d disappeared off the face of the Earth with a dual PhD, only to now rematerialize in an underground workshop on a lost island in the Pacific twelve years later.

He doesn’t know how to begin to approach this man he’d never known.

“Why me?”

Hiram shrugs.

“I knew your work. I know what you can d-do and I understand how you’ve suffered, m..more than they realise.”

He feels more than hears the roar of blood in his ears.

“No, you don’t,” he snarls. “You can’t.”

“I d-do,” says Hiram’s calm voice, cutting through the fury. “Only I could have unpicked that mm..mess he’d left in your brain, because only I have ever d-done it before.”

The anger freezes in his veins.

“You?”

“You s..say you knew m-me? That’s not true, no-one then knew me. I f-found work to support myself, lost myself in it and by the time the news hit about what he’d actually been, it was… it was t-too late.”

Hiram doesn’t meet his gaze.

“What I did for you in minutes took m..me everything for two years. T-two years of self-awareness and forced labour before I broke free. So, yes, I understand you very well.”

He’s struck still, an odd sense of protective compassion welling up inside. It’s foreign to him but he can’t help but be lost inside the feeling. He’d never known he wasn’t the first.

“I couldn’t get mm..more work; I was too young and I had gaps in my life I couldn’t explain. No-one to vouch for me. No mm..money to go back to university. No f-family to return home to. I ran coffees for the astronomers at CNES in Paris, and m-made my own improvements to the technology they used. And that’s where Mr Tracy f-found me. Asked if… if I wanted to help him change the world.”

His eyes grow piercing and hard as diamond.

“He’s g-given me everything and kept his promises a thousand times over. If you want an antithesis to the Hood, you’ll f-find it in him. I would do anything for Mr Tracy, anything for his f-family. Grandma Tracy might have t-told you we can mm…manage without but I know we cannot. And I’m not willing to f-fail them now. For better or worse, they’re my f-family too.”

Walls fly up at his declaration, one after another. His will is his own and nobody’s to control. He has no family, nothing owed to anyone else. It’s better than to be trapped by promises he could only fail to keep.

He finally understands too why he wasn’t being held captive; the Tracy family believe him bound by common decency.

They’ve saved him after all, saved him the way they saved everyone although he’s not once asked for them. They’ll hold that position over him until he complied. They’d done it to Hiram who couldn’t even recognise his own prison.

His snarl becomes a despairing laugh.

“Are you alright?” asks their pet engineer, his peer of long ago.

“They’ve trapped you too, you know.”

Hiram says nothing, only looks him up and down with narrowed eyes.

“F-follow me.”

They bypass the maze that leads back to his room and take an elevator upwards, back into fresh air.

“What is this?” he asks, squinting in the full force of the sun.

“Just watch.”

He watches.

Before him a scene is laid out, a scene of devastation and destruction. A news report describes the dangers, the fears, telling a story of the team of men and women trapped in the basement of the collapsed building and the flames that are racing through the nearby structural shells.

But that’s not what he sees.

He sees the five lights that race around the scene, co-ordinated from above. He sees the unforgiving task before them, he sees the perseverance and the pain.

For the first time, he can see a glimpse of hope.

Dr Tracy catches his eye and he turns and stumbles away from her.

Hiram follows him, saying nothing as he chokes on his own stubborn cowardice.

“It’s pointless. Even if you could do it, why go? He’ll be dead.”

“He won’t be.”

Hiram can afford to believe. He doesn’t know how to be like that, how to see past despair and shine with hope.

“Will you help us?”

He doesn’t know. How could he possibly know? Hope reeks of false confidence and lies. He’s had nothing to do with such things for years.

“I never thought I’d see this world again,” he says, staring at the sunlight dancing on his skin. “I thought the rest of my life would be darkness and cold, cold stars. It was beautiful.”

“Was it lonely?”

Of course it was lonely, he wants to snarl. What did it matter, he’d been lonely long before he’d let the Hood crawl inside his mind and take over his soul.

“It’s pointless,” he says again, feeling the warmth beginning to dissolve his resolve.

Hiram shakes his head.

“Th-think about what they did for you, an enemy who has hurt their family time and time again. Do you think they’ll do any less for their father?”

He stays silent. He can’t put his faith in something so uncertain. It’s not his way. He’s spent a lifetime fighting and hiding and hating himself for it. It can’t be as easy as Hiram suggests, to put your trust in another man, to be so sure.

He didn’t know what he was hoping for, didn’t know what the best-case scenario could possibly be. But a step towards them had to be a step away from him.

Maybe hope wouldn’t burn him this time.

“I’ll help. However I can. If I can.”

Hiram smiled.

“You can. We can. We’ll get him home.”

[aminiatureworld]

Distance

Characters: Childe, Kaeya, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,280

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: What other explanation could there be? Surely this is the one logical answer. Even if it hurts, even if it doesn’t make sense.

In which the reader’s s/o assumes the reader is no longer interested.

Author’s Note: This prompt is really fun to write so far but I feel terrible torturing the poor characters like this. Oops.

Childe

The warm wind tickled Childe’s hair, causing the Harbinger to bat a few orange strands out of his face, eyes still pinned on the harbor that was fast approaching. The balmy breeze of Liyue was refreshing – a reminder of all the things he had been missing on his long-drawn-out trip. Now Childe leaned against the railing of the ship, eager to touch land, unable to contain the excitement he felt at the knowledge of what was awaiting him upon the dock.

Though he didn’t like to admit it this trip had been a particularly harrowing one, not just for Childe but for you as well. The post was notoriously touch-and-go across the Seven nations, especially with the deep snows whirling into Snezhnaya this time of year. The fact that he was gone almost a month certainly didn’t help. If he had to admit it Childe had found himself worrying about the time more than usual, worried how it might affect you. Now he was eager to push all those thoughts away, to once more find himself next to you, all well with the world. As the crew bustled around him to prepare the junk for docking the Harbinger took a deep breath in. There was nothing to worry about. Soon all would be well.

The empty dock was a jarring sight. Though saying it was devoid of people wouldn’t technically be accurate, business was going on as usual after all, to Childe it might as well have been a ghost town. Stumbling slightly, suddenly unsure of where to go, Childe climbed up the ramp awkwardly. Finding no one waiting for him on the stone pier as well, anxiety began to coil in Childe’s stomach. Had something happened? Ignoring the thoughts that flurried through his mind he quickly wove his way through the streets of Liyue. Though the city was bustling as always, laughter and shouting echoing through the air as people haggled and joked and went about their business, Childe found himself disconnected from his surroundings. His only thought was to find you, hopefully safe and sound and happy to see him.

There was no sign of anything wrong as Childe approached the door to your shared apartment. Sighing softly he dug around in his pack for the keys. You’d probably just fallen asleep, having recently taken up the habit of afternoon naps, according to your letters. Childe couldn’t really complain if that were the case, after all rest was important and you could hardly be blamed for not being aware of the time while conked out. Yes, surely you were asleep. Then Childe could give you the surprise of waking next to him. A smirk graced Childe’s lips at the thought of it, and as he turned the key in the lock he reassured himself. There was nothing to be worried about.

Unfortunately the Harbinger’s genius hypothesis had proven to be a false one. A quick scouring of the apartment revealed that you were not there, and no signs of any abnormal activity could be found as an explanation. Anxiety seeping into Childe’s mind he barely set down his pack before bolting out of the door, trying somewhat unconvincingly to keep his pace to a fast walk. Had something happened to you? Surely not! Childe knew you, knew that you could very well take care of yourself. He shouldn’t worry.

Still the thought passed through his head, combined with an even more unpleasant one. Had you simply forgotten about him? What if you didn’t care? Shaking his head the Harbinger took in a deep breath. He was overthinking things, still stuck in the mindset of a Harbinger. Not everything in life was a battle, hadn’t you told him that many times, teasing his constant need to see an obstacle to beat somewhere? He really should take your advice more seriously, at least in this case. Slowly down slightly Childe walked to the city center. He was sure his answer would be here; and that it would be so mundane as to not bother a second thought.

His pulse jumped in his throat as you finally entered his field of vision. You were sitting around with a few people, coworkers if the Guild crest and weaponry didn’t serve him wrong, chatting and smiling and overall having a wonderful time. Emotions stirred through Childe, the urge to run up to you, to stalk away, to find the nearest fountain and jump into it; but he stayed put, staring at your laughing face, pain flashing in his chest. He supposed he should’ve felt angry, felt like he’d been stood up. Instead all he felt was sadness, sadness and guilt.

Finally turning around Childe plodded back down the street, steps slow and sluggish. What did he expect really, for you to wait around for him forever? How was that fair? There was no reason you shouldn’t grow sick of waiting, shouldn’t want more out of your life. You were perfectly within your rights to want such a thing. Yet the pain continued, spreading throughout his chest until Childe felt like his lungs were on fire and his throat was crumpled in a fist of his own making.

Arriving back at the apartment a supernatural urge seemed to seize the Harbinger. Pack, he needed to pack. He wouldn’t burden you anymore, wouldn’t continue to strain your emotions by hanging around like a phantom. Luckily Childe wasn’t the kind of person to own a lot of things. Not that you really were either, between the both of you purchases mainly went into gifts for each other rather than personal buys. Childe now stood looking down at some of the things you’d bought or made for him. Scarves, books, a stuffed animal that had reminded you of his Delusion; all of these things lay peacefully on the shelf, giving the books behind them a slightly trapped looked. It was so homey and so comforting that Childe found tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

Wiping his eyes roughly the Harbinger collapsed onto the couch. What was he doing? Part of him wondered if he shouldn’t just wait for you to come home, wait and see where you two really were. But it seemed unfair to do that. After all, what kind of sleazy person left their partner for a month then begged for their love and attention right after coming home? It was completely within your rights to want more, hadn’t Childe already made that clear to himself? And yet it hurt, it hurt so much. How had he managed to mess this all up, to let the thing most precious to him fall out of his hands? He had been so careless.

Giving himself up to his emotions Childe let the pooling tears stream down his cheeks. Suddenly everything seemed so very heavy. Closing his eyes for a moment Childe sighed. Five minutes, he would give himself five minutes before returning to his packing. Yet the familiar comfort of the couch beckoned to him, and soon fatigue overwhelmed him, dragging him down into the realm of sleep. Thankfully, he dreamt of nothing.

“Childe what are you doing?!”

Lurching up Childe glanced around wildly, hands automatically moving to summon his weapon. For a few seconds he found himself utterly confused, unable to comprehend where he was or what was going on. Soon enough however, the situation came crashing back to him and the Harbinger lowered his weapon. Glancing up at you he braced himself for whatever was going to happen next.

Well you certainly seemed upset, though not exactly in the way Childe might have expected. Instead of anger there seemed something more akin to panic in your eyes, and the red patches on your face certainly pointed to distress more than anything else.

“Is something wrong?”

“Is something wrong, you tell me that!” You took in a few erratic breaths, but your tone remained panicky. “Why are you packing? Do you have another trip? Why are you leaving?”

“I, I thought that it would be easier if I just left.” Childe lowered his head, unable to look you in the eyes. “I figured that I would spare you the pain of having to kick me out yourself.”

“Why in Teyvat would I kick you out?” You sat down on the couch next to Childe, and he could feel your eyes piercing through him. “What’s going on?”

“I didn’t see you at the docks when I returned.” Childe paused, gathering his thoughts. “At first I thought that you’d just fallen asleep or something but you weren’t home. And when I saw you out with your friends, well it made me realize how distant I’ve really been; physically, emotionally, everything. I realized that, and I realized that you deserved better, that I hadn’t been doing enough. I realized that you deserve more, deserve a partner who will always be there for you, who you won’t always have to be waiting for.”

“Oh Ajax.” You whispered softly.

Raising his head Childe could see no relief in your expression. Instead sadness was plainly plastered upon your face. Reaching out your hands you let Childe slump against you, carding your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry my darling, I thought you were coming back tomorrow. That’s why I was out. I would never think such a thing as abandoning you,” you spoke softly, tone achingly soft, “I mean it. Our relationship isn’t conventional, that’s true; but I would never trade it for anything. I would never think that you weren’t giving enough, I know how hard you work and how much you put into everything you know. Believe me Ajax, I don’t begrudge you any distance, I’ve never lacked love from you.”

“But what if one day you want something more,” Childe couldn’t help but ask, “what if one day letters aren’t enough? What if one day, what if one day I’m not enough?”

“I promise that will never happen,” you let out a soft sigh, “really Ajax you hold yourself too cheaply. You shouldn’t underestimate yourself, or underestimate me for that matter. You will always be enough for me. There will never be a day I want anything or anyone different, and if need be I will remind you of that every. single. day.”

Punctuation the last three words with kisses to Childe’s head you smiled as he titled his face up to gaze into yours. Though the panic had evaporated from you there was still sadness, and for a moment Childe felt guilt wash over him, guilt that he had caused you so many trials and that he hadn’t even had the courage to face you about it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Although I do appreciate you understanding that almost stealing out into the night nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Not my brightest moment.” Childe admitted.

“Perhaps not,” you laughed, “I mean really, you’d think that it was the second act of a tragedy or something, and not one I’d like to participate in.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize! Just don’t do it again, or next time I’ll get genuinely angry, and then you won’t get off the hook so easily.”

Childe pressed his lips to yours, another unspoken apology. Though you let out a small huff of impatience you nevertheless leaned into the kiss, smiling against his lips as you let your hands drift from his hair to his shoulders.

That night Childe lay awake, listening to the soft cadence of your breath, indulging in the feeling of peace that lay over him. Though he knew that his worries and insecurities would never truly leave him, Childe nonetheless felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe one days his fears would come true, maybe one day this life wouldn’t be enough. But “ifs” and “maybes” weren’t guarantees, and until that day happened Childe would cherish the time he spent with you.

Besides, Childe trusted no one as much as he trusted you. If you said that such a day would never come to pass, then surely you were right.

  Kaeya

You were working late again.

Kaeya supposed that it shouldn’t have bothered him, but then again he also supposed that almost anyone would feel somewhat uneasy if their colleague and partner was suddenly avoiding them like the plague.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not much in Kaeya’s mind. Of course, if this were some sort of habit then he would hardly mind; but after months of making it a tradition to always walk home together, well, safe to say the whole thing didn’t sit well. Nor was it simply a matter of you staying to work late, even the days where you finished earlier than him it seemed that you were always dashing off somewhere, leaving him painfully out of the loop.

Now Kaeya stood across the room from you, fingers drumming on his arm, face carefully hiding the irritation and concern that rose up inside him, threatening to spill over.

“I’m really sorry Kaeya!” Your tone was sincere, and the apology in your eyes seemed genuine enough. “It’s just that Jean asked me to look over the ledgers for the infantry. You know the captain is out this week, but Jean didn’t want to have to owe the City and the soldiers in terms of late funds. I promise it won’t take that long, I’ll be done as fast as I can.”

“Why don’t I help you with it?” Kaeya could feel the sarcasm sweetening his tone, attempted to rein it in he stared at you silently.

“You’ve been working so hard, I wouldn’t want to bother you with extra work.”

“It wouldn’t be a bother at all. Anything for my dear partner.”

“Really, it’s fine!” You twisted your hands, a nervous habit that Kaeya had long ago picked up on. “I’ll be done in time for dinner. And then we can the new recipe you’ve been telling me about; okay?”

“Very well.”

“Thanks for understanding!”

Though you seemed happy enough by the proposition Kaeya noticed how fast your head moved to the papers on your desk. Closing the door behind him he heard you let out a loud sigh. Clenching his hands, as if to remind himself that he was still in a semi-public setting, Kaeya stalked out of the Knight’s Headquarters. The thoughts in his head felt like static, and he worried that if he remained still for one more moment it would swallow him up.

Walking the streets of Mondstadt, Kaeya tried to reflect back upon the past few weeks. Had he done something wrong? Wracking his brain for any serious disputes Kaeya came up frustratingly emptyhanded. If you had fought over something this whole debacle would be one thing. Kaeya had a temper of his own, and petty acts of anger was something he admittedly struggled with often enough. He could hardly fault you if you acted in a similar way, or at least not without admitting to his own faults.

And yet nothing had happened, nothing that might cause such a dispute. Clenching his hands one more, aware that his knuckles must’ve been bone white, Kaeya let his thoughts drift to darker waters. What if you were just sick of him? It was certainly plausible, or at least Kaeya thought so. It would certainly explain why you now seemed to be avoiding him like the plague outside of work.

The thought hurt, as it might well do, but surprisingly most of the pain didn’t come from the idea itself, but from the idea that you wouldn’t tell him such a thing. You falling out of love with Kaeya would be been incredibly painful. You not trusting him enough to the point you were simply avoiding him, well the thought was enough to knock the wind out of him. Did you really think so ill of him? The idea filled Kaeya with smoldering rage and indignation – fueled in no little part by the fact that Kaeya ultimately might agree with you. Usually thoughts like those were the kinds you hated, the kinds you chased away with a stick, assuring Kaeya that no matter his past decisions he was still worthwhile. But you weren’t here now, and those dark thoughts were now kindling for the fire that burned in Kaeya’s mind.

By the time he’d reached the apartment Kaeya was almost sure of his hypothesis. Though a small part of his brain reminded him that he was working of a diet of sleep deprivation and anger, such logical thinking was easy enough to shrug off. After all, the signs were there. You were evidently getting quite sick of him, it was hardly Kaeya’s fault that he caught on.

Throwing his equipment on the floor, not bothering to even put his sword up on its stand, the Cavalry Captain walked towards the kitchen. What he needed was drink, maybe even two. Really if it were up to him he’d spend the next hour or so getting as drunk as possible before passing out in the tub. Thankfully though his reason hadn’t completely left him, and Kaeya managed to limit himself to two and a half glasses of cider. He needed to be at least on the side of sober for the conversation that was bound to pass once you came home after all.

The lateness of the hour in which you arrived felt like a personal insult, though really it was only 21:00 or so.

“Kaeya?” You called out, whipping the Cavalry Captain out of his thoughts.

Stepping into the kitchen the grin on your face was a stark contrast to the emotions that swirled in Kaeya’s mind. Hands clasped behind your back you stood in the doorframe as if expecting something. You’d probably be in for a nasty surprise. Kaeya smiled sweetly at you, words burning in his mouth, mixing with the alcohol. This was a bad idea.

“How was the paperwork?”

“The paperwork? Oh! It was boring enough I suppose. I kept getting distracted though, I really should’ve had you there, you could’ve kept me from nodding off.”

“I’m sure I would have. Tell me something my dear, I have a question that’s been burning in my mind.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me why it is that out lovely Acting Grandmaster asked you to go over the ledgers when I was assigned to that exact thing yesterday?”

Ignoring the blotches of red that immediately spread across your cheeks Kaeya stood up. Carefully going to clean the glass he’d been using he stared into the sink, not trusting himself to look at you. If he did all the words he wanted to say would fly out at once, and something that probably shouldn’t be said with them.

“Did she ask you that? How odd! She must’ve wanted a second pair of eyes or something, I guess.”

“Are my eyes not good enough?”

“Kaeya, you know I wasn’t insulting your work.” A sort of shocked irritation ran through your voice. “You’re the best knight in Mondstadt after all.”

“Oh really? Well if you think so highly of me then why have you been avoiding me so much?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Then let me ask a different question; when was the last time we walked home together?”

“I don’t know, a week and a half ago?”

“Try two and a half.” Kaeya finally turned around, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you!” Indignation shot through your words as you shook your head. “I’m just busy recently.”

“Busy with made up work.”

“It’s not made up!”

“Oh really, then tell me what was your work last night?”

“I had to oil the bow strings for my regiment.”

“They couldn’t do it themselves according to protocol?”

“Not the new recruits they couldn’t!”

“Then what about the day before?”

“Kaeya!” You finally burst out. “I don’t know why you’re so quick to find fault with me right now! Just tell me what you’re getting at, if you’re going to insult me you might as well do it head on.”

A part of him admired you for wanting to look at the problem right in the face, another part of him thought of how well you knew him, how attuned you were to his moods. Just as he had figured out that you were avoiding him, so could you tell that his jabs were a misdirection. It was almost funny really, seeing the things you both had picked up about one another now used at the end.

“Fine.” Kaeya crossed his arms, hoping his expression was at least somewhat neutral. “It seems obvious to me that you’ve been avoiding me, and that you no longer want my company. What I am getting at is the fact that you want to break up, and that you evidently trust me so little with that fact that the only solution you’ve come up with is to avoid me.”

Your face went slack with shock, pupils turning to pinpricks as you stumbled backwards. Finally letting your arms fall to your sides you grabbed the side of the doorframe, as if unable to process what he just come out of your partner’s mouth.

“What?”

“Do you really trust me so little?” Kaeya pressed on, feeling his emotions begin to spill over. “Am I really so untrustworthy that you can’t even tell me you want to end things? Am I, am I really that untrustworthy?”

Everything seemed to be going all wrong. Kaeya had expected you to immediately fess up, had expected guilt and relief and then the end. Instead all he got was incredulous silence, incredulous silence and a look that screamed utter and total disbelief.

“Do you really think that I would do that to you?”

The question was a simple enough one, one that anyone might ask during a conversation of this nature. Still your tone was so dispassionate that Kaeya couldn’t help but pause. Did he really think that you would do such a thing? His anger certainly thought so, helped a great deal by his current buzzed state. All that aside however, did he really think that? When he woke up tomorrow, would these thoughts still be swirling through his head, these angry thoughts that threatened to burn through his happiness.

“I don’t know.” It was the best answer he could give.

“Then why would you accuse me of something you weren’t even sure of?”

“I…”

“Kaeya have you really thought so little about what you just told me?”

He almost wanted to apologize for how stupid his words seemed in retrospect.

“Would it help you if I told you where I actually was?”

Your voice was still quiet, but not entirely closed. Nodding stiffly Kaeya felt his fingers still.

“Very well. You were right about one thing, I wasn’t actually checking the ledgers for Jean; and I wasn’t oiling bowstrings all day either, I mean our troops should know how to do that at least. But you made one mistake in your judgement Kaeya, the idea that I was avoiding you. In truth I was gathering materials, I wanted to make a new sword for you. Your current one is so brittle and since I know you don’t want to use the sword you were given as an heirloom, well I thought that I wouldn’t wait for your current one to break and that your new one would be a present.”

“…I see.”

It was all Kaeya could get out; how else could he reply? Shame and guilt mingled within his mind, quickly dousing any anger that he might’ve felt. He really fucked up this one didn’t he. He let his emotions slip once more and now he had made a fool of himself. More than that he had refused to trust you, had ended up doing the exact thing he had just accused you of. Now what was there to do? He couldn’t exactly slink away with his dignity; even if he had managed to retain that, there weren’t many places to go.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Kaeya jerked his head up from the spot he’d been examining on the floor, confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. You stared into his eyes, shrugging slightly.

“I said I’m sorry. I’m sorry Kaeya, I should’ve come up with a better method. I didn’t mean to make you worried, or to make you feel like I wanted to no longer associate with you. Believe me that’s the last thing I want to do. So I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.”

“I was the one who accused you of all those things that weren’t true.”

“You did. I’m not very happy about that to be honest; you’re going to be doing some serious penance for the next week. I just figured that before that I would apologize. Then we could be even. Okay?”

Reaching out your hand Kaeya finally noticed what you’d been hiding. The windwheel aster was slightly limp, the breeze that gave it its beauty nowhere to be found. Nevertheless it seemed at the moment the most beautiful flower in the world. Walking over to you Kaeya tentatively took the flower in his hand. Smiling softly he leaned down to kiss you.

“I’m sorry.”

Tomorrow he’d start making it up to you. Tomorrow he wouldn’t listen to his demons, wouldn’t let his own lack of self-worth hurt you. Tomorrow he would do better by you and more. Today he would say sorry.

After all, he had plenty of time.

[wlntrsldler]

hey!! love ur writings so far, could i request you belong with me with fred weasley? thanks! <3

PROMPT: based on you belong with me by taylor swift (an installment of my taylor swift x harry potter series. to read more about it, click here) Fred realizes that he loves Y/N after seeing her so close to George. 

WC: 2.6K+ words

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

-

you belong with me (f.w one shot)

“Sorry,” you mumbled, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of your nose as you collided into someone’s chest. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the ginger boy to the right of you, flashing his toothy grin at Angelina. She laughed at his joke, brushing against his arm in a flirty manner. Your heart fell apart at the sight, almost making you want to crush your glasses under your foot to prevent you from seeing anymore. But it was too late— the image was already burned into your mind. 

“Y/N,” the voice called, waving a hand in front of your face. 

Suddenly, you were pulled back to reality. You looked up at the person you ran into, flustered that you completely forgot their existence. George. You visibly relaxed, shoulders rolling back into a less tense state, “Sorry, Georgie.”

“Fred, again?” he asked, a sympathetic look on his face as he watched you stare at his older twin longingly. George took some of the books you had pressed against your chest, helping you carry the weight of the stress that occupied your mind. “Will you ever tell him how you feel?”

At his words, your eyes widened. You shook your head furiously, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, as you bounced up and down on your toes. You gulped, looking back at the older twin, who left his earlier spot and was no nowhere to be found. You frowned, “Never, Georgie. He’s my best friend and I wouldn’t want to mess that up.” 

He cocked an eyebrow, faking a look of hurt on his face, “I’ll pretend you didn’t just call him your best friend when I’m right here-”

“You know what I mean.”

“As I was saying,” he shot you an annoyed look for interrupting him before he continued. “He may be my brother and your best friend but you’re my best friend too, Y/N. I’d rather not watch my best friend get hurt over and over again.” 

You sighed, lifting your glasses up to rub your tired eyes, “It’s not worth it. I’d rather stay like this and keep Fred in my life than mess up what we have because of my stupid feelings.” 

George rolled his eyes, wanting to somehow find a way to convince you to tell his twin how you felt, but when he saw your face drop at the sight of Fred and Angelina in a lip lock, he decided to move on from the topic. He wrapped a protective arm around you, leading you to the other side of the castle. “Come on, Y/N. There’s nothing for you to see here.” 

The day continued to drag on with everyone whispering about their excitement for the Yule Ball. You tried your hardest not to roll your eyes at the constant gushing from the girls you passed about their dates. George chuckled beside you, copying the scowl on your face, and gagging as Hermione and Ginny talked about their dates. 

You looked up at him as you sat down next to each other, “Who are you going with, Georgie?”

“No idea,” he replied, “Wanna be my date?” 

“George Weasley, do not take me as your date because you pity me.” 

“Hey, I’m sure I’d have more fun with you than with any other girl I may ask,” he argued, nudging you with his elbow. “What do you say, Y/N? Let’s show my dumber and less attractive twin what he’s missing out on.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, unable to stop the smile that appeared on your face. “Can’t wait.” 

George saw you like a sister— almost like Ginny. He wanted to protect you and make sure you were alright, that nobody could hurt you. It just happened to be that it was his daft and dear twin brother to be the perpetrator. He saw this one coming, really. Growing up together, he saw the way you and Fred always had a special connection. It wasn’t until you began to understand your feelings did you stray closer to him than Fred. He took pride in being the more sensitive brother, more observant than the older one, so he always made sure he was there to pick up the pieces after everything happened, like a brother would. 

George caught onto your feelings for his brother a few years ago when he saw you staring at him a bit too long for it to be friendly. For years he watched you pine after Fred, too afraid to face rejection or to lose your friendship to say anything. If it were up to George, he would lock you and Fred in a room together until you confessed to him how you felt or until Fred got his head out of his arse long enough to figure it out himself. But he knew it wasn’t up to him so he had to go through the pain of watching his two bestest friends in the world run around in circles. It’s pathetic if you asked him. 

You weren’t exactly discrete with your feelings. You were sure all of the Weasleys— Charlie included, who hasn’t seen you since you were 13 when he took a break from tending for his beloved dragons, choosing to visit the Burrow for the summer— caught on to your affections, apart from Fred. Molly would often assign the both of you to do chores together. Even Harry, the most oblivious person you’ve ever met in your life, knew of your feelings for Fred. 

You’ve come to the conclusion that nobody could be that clueless. Fred was simply ignoring your feelings so he didn’t have to be the one to break your heart. 

-

The night of the Yule Ball was equally magical as it was confusing for Fred. You descended from the steps, looking gorgeous as ever, snatching the breath of everyone who awaited at the bottom. George beamed proudly at you, eyes twinkling as he watched you strut down with confidence. Fred’s back was turned, not seeing your entrance as he was too busy chatting with his date. You didn’t expect any less from him— he was a gentleman. 

It wasn’t until Ron spoke up did Fred finally turn around to look at you. Ron’s eyes bulged out of their sockets, “Blimey, Y/N, when did you get so fit?”

When Fred turned around, his jaw fell to the floor. It was like everyone else disappeared. Angelina’s chatter was reduced to white noise. The sound of the music from inside the Yule Ball was faint. All he could focus on was you. 

Ron has a point, Fred thought. 

You looked absolutely gorgeous. The color of your dress complimented your skin so well. You looked so mature, no longer the shy girl that he and his brother took a liking to. You were Y/N. And Godric, you were absolutely breathtaking. 

Hermione slapped Ron’s arm, scowling, “Ronald, that’s not very nice.” 

You chuckled, eyes darting over to Fred for a split second. You blushed when you saw him staring back, mouth agape, like he couldn’t believe it was you. You immediately moved your eyes to the younger twin, taking his outstretched hand before he leaned closer to your ear. George’s breath tickled your skin, making you shiver. He whispered, “Looks like you got his attention.”

You were flustered, hiding your face in the crook of George’s neck to hide the redness of your cheeks. He laughed at you, pulling away to guide you to the entrance. Because your back was turned, you didn’t see the confused look on Fred’s face. 

Since when did that start? He made a mental note to ask his twin about it later, an unfamiliar feeling overcoming his senses as he watched George’s hand find the small of your back.

“Fred?” 

He snapped out of his thoughts, now aware of the beautiful girl by his side. He turned his head to look at Angelina, an apologetic look on his face. He sent her a small smile, “Sorry, love.”

“No worries, you ready to go in?” She asked, looping her arm through his. He nodded, clearing his throat, trying to shake the image of you and his brother out of his head. As they walked in, Angelina spoke again, “I didn’t know Y/N and George were a thing.”

“They’re not,” Fred blurted out, blinking rapidly as Angelina shot him a quizzical look. He was sure his cheeks were now pink, a sure sign of his embarrassment, “Uh, I mean- I don’t think they are, at least. I’m sure they would’ve told me. He’s my brother and she’s my best friend, after all.” 

You would’ve told him, right? 

-

Fred would be lying if he said there wasn’t a weight lifted off his chest when George stumbled into their shared room at 11 PM. He couldn’t bring himself to spend the night with Angelina because the thought of you and George plagued his mind. He shivered at the thought that George would take you back to your room, and Merlin knows what else might ensue. Fred didn’t want to think about it. 

He laid in the dark, hoping that the younger twin would make his way inside at a reasonable hour. He still had on his dress shirt but his tie was undone as he laid against the frame of his bed, arms folded behind his neck. His shoes were in two different places in the room. He quite literally shook them off his feet, frustrated that he didn’t know what he was feeling. Fred perked up at any sound that might indicate George’s arrival, deflating when the sound of footsteps walked past his door. 

Finally, George walked in, shoes in hand but the rest of his ensemble still neatly on his body. Well, that’s a good sign, Fred thought. George flicked the light switch on, making Fred hiss at the sudden light. The younger twin threw his shoes at Fred, thinking there was an intruder in their room, half-expecting Fred to still be out with Angelina. 

Fred squinted his eyes, “What was that for?” 

“Oops, sorry,” George chuckled, undoing his tie and plopping onto his bed. “Didn’t expect you to be back so early.”

“I could say the same about you.” 

“Why is that my dear brother?”

Fred felt bile rise up his throat, hating the words that rolled off his tongue, “You and Y/N looked rather cozy.” 

George cocked an eyebrow, leaning forward to interrogate his brother, “Is that a problem?”

Fred was too worked up to detect the teasing tone in his twin’s voice. He cleared his throat, choosing to look everywhere else but at George’s smirking face. “Yes it is a problem. I’d like a heads-up next time my brother and my best friend start shagging.”

He snorted, “We’re not shagging, you git. We’re just best friends.” 

“I thought I was her best friend too and she didn’t go to the ball with me. She went with you, so I find it hard to believe that you’re just friends.” 

“Believe what you want, dearest brother,” George hummed, getting up to get ready for bed. “But did you even ask her to the Ball? I’m sure she would’ve said yes if you did.” 

“Well, I’m dating Angelina so that wouldn’t work.” 

“Precisely,” George rolled his eyes, throwing his balled up tie in his brother’s direction. “That’s why she went with me. You’re dating Angelina, so what’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“I do not have my knickers in a twist.” Fred huffed, getting up to do the same. Silence fell upon the two boys. George was enjoying their confrontation a bit too much, while Fred was now rethinking everything he thought he knew. Was it possible that he was jealous?

No, that couldn’t possibly be it. 

Can it?

-

You’ve preoccupied Fred’s mind since the Yule Ball. Although, he hasn’t brought up his suspicions— and as much as he won’t admit it, his jealousy— over your relationship with his twin, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. It’s gotten in the way of a lot of things. 

For starters, Angelina grew tired of Fred’s absentmindedness, forgetting dates and always daydreaming or staring off to where you and George sat when he was with her. She broke it off with him, and truth be told, he was relieved. 

He skipped over to where you and George sat, prying the both of you away from each other as he squeezed himself between you. He ignored George’s protests and turned his back on his brother, facing you with a comedic smile on his face, “Hello, Y/N.”

You raised your eyebrows, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, “Yes, Freddie?”

“Just wanted to see how my best girl is doing.”

You shook your head playfully, trying to hide the obvious blush on your cheeks. George giggled from behind Fred, getting up to leave the two of you alone. George knew his plan would work.

You pushed Fred off a bit, his body heat making you more flustered than ever, “Put a cork in it, Weasley. I’m sure your girlfriend would not appreciate you saying that to me.”

“My huh?” he cocked his head to one side, a twinkle of mischief in his eye as he explained his situation to you. “I don’t have one of those anymore, my dearest.” 

You dropped your quill, shocked, as you turned to the red head beside you. You imagined he would be much sadder, given the fact that he no longer had a girlfriend, but the grin on his face told another story. It made you believe that the boy in front of you was pulling your leg. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “Not funny, Weasley. Don’t joke about that.”

“Not joking,” he mused, shrugging it off like it was no big deal. “We broke up like two weeks ago.” 

“And you’re not in shambles right now because..?”

“Because it was bound to end, anyway.”

A puzzled look took over your features as you gave Fred your undivided attention. His eyes were studying your face, a small smile tugging on his perfect lips. He leaned over and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, keeping his hand there longer than necessary, cupping your jaw. You managed to speak despite the shocks that shot through your body— albeit it was more of a squeak, but you were proud of yourself for even uttering something out, “Why is that?”

“Someone…” he trailed off, brushing your skin with the pad of his thumb before blushing madly, like he just became aware of what he’s been doing. You suddenly missed his touch when he pulled his hand away. Fred cleared his throat, “Someone else caught my attention.” 

You whispered, still half-dazed from his previous action, “Oh.” 

“Y/N?” Fred mumbled, eyes glued to your lips. 

“Mhm?”

He licked his lips, inching closer to you. His breath tickled your lips, making your heartbeat a million miles an hour. “Can I?”

“If you want,” you gulped, allowing yourself to melt under his touch. 

“I’ve never wanted something more than this. You belong with me.” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Weasley.”

He smirked before letting his lips touch yours. He pulled you closer to his body, almost forgetting that you were both in public. It’s not like he cared much over an audience anyway. He only pulled away from you when he felt his ear being twisted. Fred grimaced in pain, eyes screwed shut. 

You giggled as you watched Professor McGonagall picking him up by the ear. She wore a fond look on her face that she tried to disguise with a scowl, “Mr. Weasley, I will not have you corrupt one of my best students.” 

“Come on, Professor,” he groaned, sending you a cheeky wink, “With the way she was kissing me back, she was the one corrupting me.” 

You flushed red, placing your face in your hands, “Weasley!”

Unfortunately, he got a week’s worth of detention. It was worth it because he got a girlfriend in return. 

TAGS: @rexorangecouny

[senseiwu]

Can I ask your thoughts on Lou? He's one of my favorite side characters and I'm curious to know how you feel about him!

I like him!

He's a fellow performer, and I love that. Now, he did put a lot of expectations and stuff on Cole, but I don't believe he had any bad intentions in that. You can tell that despite their falling out after Lilly's death, they still care about each other. There's a LOT of potential angst surrounding him; losing his wife, and now their son is doing similar things to what she did, and he knows how dangerous that is.... (Also when Cole TURNED INTO A GHOST) But, as Cole said, he's good at it... he seems to enjoy it... Lou has never once tried to stop him from being a ninja. They seem to have mended their relationship, which is lovely.

He seems quite dramatic and it's kinda fun. I like how he writes songs about his feelings - god, can you imagine how sad they must have been after Lilly died? And it's really sweet how he and the other Royal Blacksmiths sang about Cole when everyone was sending the ninja off in S2

I loved seeing him and Lilly dance in the Balance short, and I hope to see him (and flashbacks with both of them!!) more. All the ninjas parents are pretty damn cool people in their own ways.

...this ended up longer than I thought it would be 😅 oops. But yeah, I like Lou :)

[mxtcha-tea]

domestic shiratorizawa

⊹summary; the life inside the dorms of shiratorizawa

⊹pilots; gn![y/n], ushijima, tendou, semi, yamagata, reon, kawanishi, shirabu, goshiki (pairings showed; yamagata x reader, goshiki x reader)

⊹genre; fluff, crack and some cursings (no proofread)

⊹flight details; i've once made a domestic imagines in my old blog so imma make a small reboot of it <3

random shopping

normal day, normal life. you could've seen yourself laying or even napping in your room while a compilation of minecraft songs plays in the background. but no. instead, you're inside an antique shop with Yamagata, Ushijima and Tendou.

you have no idea when, or how did the process happened but you surely is done with getting dragged inside the shop by Tendou and Yamagata.

while Ushijima's stuck on a section, you don't know where, but he's definitely stuck there, "[y/n]! look at what i found,"

Yamagata called you as you turned around to see him holding up a pretty heavy doll. you raise your brow, "what the hell is that?" walking towards him and taking a closer look at the object in hand,

"i think it's a, um, i think a matryoska doll? matroyska? is that how you say it?" "why're you asking me, i don't know jack shit about russian stuff,"

"ah you mean, matryoshka doll?" Tendou butted in, startling you two, "it's also called a 'nesting doll' and did you actually know that it was actually originated from china?"

Yamagata's eyes practically sparkled at that with a surprised look, "from china? really?"

you can only roll your eyes, "and how can you even know all that?" Tendou snickered and put on a smug face, "i'm actually very smart, y'know. ya'll just don't know about it," "says the person in class 2,"

"i blame the mathematic old hags for adding letters in math, and the apple that fucking hit my man Isaac," you tsk'ed and walk towards the next section. Yamagata passive aggressively put the matryoshka doll down and follow after you along with Tendou,

"also, we need to find ushijima, i think he's stuck in some section between here...ah there," you stopped walking and turn to your right where you find Ushijima reading a book.

Tendou skipped towards him and smack his shoulder, "you okay, wakatoshi-kun? you sure did took longer to look at the stuff here," while Tendou chats with Ushijima, Yamagata look up at the shelves as something caught his eyes.

he tried to reach it while tip toing but due to his height, he can't reach it. then, he jumped from his spot to grab the object but end up hitting his head onto the board, "AGH, FUCK!" which causes you all to look at him, watching him hold his head while shivering from the pain,

"are you okay, yamagata?" ushijima ask, putting back the book on the shelves, "yeah, yeah, i'm just tryna get that," he shakes his head before pointing up.

you followed his finger and caught a glimpse of an old polaroid. it's a little bit dusty but other than that, it looks new. Ushijima reached it from his spot and managed to grab it, "here,"

he hands it to Yamagata as he instantly recovered from his recent pain and snatch it from Ushijima's hand, subtly thanking him with a grin, "why do you even need a polaroid?" Tendou asked, leaning his arm over Ushijima's shoulder with one brow up,

"pfft, for journaling of course,"

a gust of wind went through you while staring at him with a poker face, the same with Tendou with a small cat like smile. Ushijima just looked the same,

"okay," "WHAT'S WITH THE TONE??" you blinked and just knit your eyebrows, "i mean, since when you started journaling? you're not even the type of person to do something aesthetic,"

he pouted and just crosses his arms, "so what? that doesn't mean i can't do it, right? have faith in me god darn it. and honestly, my journal looks good so far," "well, fine,"

you waved your hand at him and continue going through the other section. and just like that, "hey wait!" Yamagata tailed after you.

Tendou snickered at the two and focus back on Ushijima, who's still watching the display yet again, "have you thought of what to buy wakatoshi-kun?" "i'm not sure, there's a lot of interesting stuff here," "well, you've only been in this section but okay~"

studying

"agh, why did those idiots really have to call me at this time...?"

you groaned, slowly walking through the halls with a slouched figure. tracing your fingers along the wall with a dejected look. you're suppose to sleep today.

an hour or two long sleep. it's finally the weekend which means the time for you to sleep all of your problems away. drifting into slumber with fluffy pillows and warm blankets, enjoying your dream as long as you can.

until your ringtone annoyingly rings next to your ear. you answer the call, and again greeted by the most annoying human in the planet,

"[y/n], we need you at the gym right now!"

"huh? oh fuck off Tendou, i need to sleep right now,"

"nuh uh, you can sleep later after you go to the gym,"

"why? are you, i don't know, practicing or something?"

"you have to find out. if you don't move your ass from that bed, we'll send Hayato to wake you up~"

". . ."

and now, you find yourself standing in front of the door of shiratorizawa's volleyball gym. not only that Tendou wakes you up from your sleep, you also had to WALK all the way from your dorm to the gym,

"i'm gonna add more time to their practices after this..."

sliding the door open, you expect them to be doing serves or maybe spikes.

but instead, you're seeing them—as in the 3rd years—all sitting down at the middle of the court, with books around them.

and what's even more confusing is that they somehow managed to bring a table inside. no, not the flip-able table.

literally a whole ass table.

Reon looks up from his book and notices your figure standing on the door way. he waves his hand at you, you did the same but still with a confused look.

Yamagata was next to see you as he abruptly stand up from his spot, shaking the table in the process,

"Hayato! stop shaking the table," "oops, sorry. ah, wait, [y/n]!"

that caught all of the boys attention as they look at you, "what taking you so long to arrive?" Tendou asked, a pen rested in between his upper lip and nose.

Semi smacked him in the face—earning an 'ow'—before shaking his head,

"their dorm is literally far from the gym, and why do you even proposed your idea of studying at the gym anyway?"

you make your way towards them, Reon patting the empty spot next to him. you sat down on your spot as Yamagata did the same. seemed like he was waiting for you.

Tendou rubbed his nose and pouted at Semi, "this was the best place to study anyway! it have much more room,"

"we should've gone to the cafeteria OR the LIBRARY," Semi groaned, looking back at his book before writing on it,

"pfft, the cafeteria's no fun. and i got banned from the library," Reon looks at Tendou with confusion, "well, it's not surprising,"

Tendou shrugged, "i was also banned from the library," Ushijima said, not looking up from his notes as you knit your eyebrows at that,

"you're also banned from the library? Satori, what did you and Ushijima did—" "anyways, um,"

he cut you off, fidgeting with his pen before pointing it at you, "right, you need to tutor us on this subject~!"

you blinked, looking down at the book they're studying about, "haven't the teacher covered this already?"

"well, i'm sorry, class 6. but we have no idea how this thing works. maybe only Reon, but look at Semi,"

Tendou wrapped his arm around Semi's neck, practically head locking him, "he's from class 1 and i think you should teach him about this the most," "I'll rip your fucking head off, Tendou!"

while both of them tried to strangle each other, Yamagata caught your attention next,

"and also, it won't be fun without you, y'know," Reon nodded, "and don't forget that you can't leave me alone in this,"

"oh right," "hm? what was that?" Yamagata asked. you just shake your head with a defeated smile, "nothing..."

after clearing your throat, you snatched Semi's book away before flipping through the pages,

"okay you scumbags, it's time to learn,"

oblivious enough

the birds chirped from the tree, the hallway's as loud as ever. Semi and Tendou's leaning against the window, each of them drinking apple juice and eating yakisoba bread.

it was silence between them before Semi spoke, "hey, Tendou," "yes Semi-Semi?" "y'know,"

Semi turned his head to look at Tendou as the redhead did the same, "have you, noticed the relationship between [y/n] and Yamagata lately?"

the latter made a thinking face, before nodding, "hm, seems so,"

"do you think, either one of them ever noticed about it?" Tendou shakes his head at the question, "nope, i don't think they do. in fact, they might be completely oblivious to it,"

Semi snickered, "right, like that one time..."

"[y/n], do you think my lips are dry right now?"

you look up from your clipboard, seeing Yamagata pointing his lips, "hm, nah. they're fine, but if you want, i can but on some lip balm,"

his eyes sparkled at that as he nodded his head with excitement, "sure!" you walk towards your bag with Yamagata following you. opening the zipper and search inside it, you pull out your lip balm,

"here, hold still," you put a hand on his cheek while the other applies lip balm onto his lips. it was a slow process but he managed to not move at all while making eye contact with you.

once you finished applying, he pop his lips before humming, "mn, cherry," "let me know if you need anything else,"

he nodded with now flushed cheeks as he smile at you. you did the same, gently patting his arm.

from a distance, Shirabu looks at them with a disgusted look, "ugh, can't they be more subtle about it,"

Kawanishi shrugged, "just let them be,"

"how can i redo my memory? i don't need to see that this early," "well, what if it was us?" "i would be twice as grossed, i can put my own lip balm," "hm yeah, you're right, i honestly would be like that too," "good,"

"haha yeah, now that i think about it, they do it all the time right?" Tendou nodded at Semi's statement before hearing the all too familiar voice just a few meters away from them,

"[y/n]!"

you turned your head around while still sipping your drink. Yamagata stood in front of you, holding out his visibly crumpled necktie with a small smile,

"my necktie!" "ah again? whatever," you give your drink to him as he hold it for you.

grabbing the necktie from his hand, looping it around his collar shirt and started tying it with a concentrated look,

"i can't say that it'll be clean when i finished tying it," "it's okay! that's why i'm asking you to do it, messy or not, at least i have it on," "hm, yeah,"

after you finished tying it and patting it a little, Yamagata hugged you, "thank you!" "yeah, you're welcome,"

the aura literally radiates on the slightly crowded hallway as some of the students who passed you talked among themselves.

Semi and Tendou stared at you two, expressionless eyes but with a small smile,

'ah, right,'

Tendou sighed, intertwining his fingers together and lifting it up to his cheeks, "ah, young love~"

"we're all the same age,"

"young love~"

bonus; reliable kouhai

lifeless.

is what goshiki would say when he took a few glances at you from his book. you promised to tutor him about this subject he's struggling on. but didn't really expect to see your slouched form walking inside the library.

he's not even sure if you even hear anything you're saying right now, "get a shovel and two-" your head hit the table, creating a loud sound and catching the attention of almost everyone inside the library,

"[y/n]-senpai, um, are you okay??" you groaned and rapidly blink your eyes, covering your forehead, "yeah, 'm just..."

a yawn escaped from your mouth before you can even finish your sentence, "...tired. those stupid senpais of yours need help tutoring too even tho being grown ass men,"

goshiki closes his book and creating a small 'thump', snapping you out from your mind,

"well, if that so then you didn't have to come, you could've just tell me and i would be fine with it!" your hoarse laugh caught him off guard as a shade of red ran across his cheeks, "i can't break a promise, tsutomu. why do you even think i agree on tutoring you?"

"uh, cause you want to help me with my studies?" "one of it, and cause i enjoy tutoring you," he can feel his cheeks heating up more when you made eye contact with him, a small smile laced upon your face,

"and honestly, you're smarter than i thought. class 4 right? that's cool," he looked away, trying to calm his nerves down, "t-thanks! a lot of people thought i was in a lower class, so i, i appreciate it,"

goshiki took a peek at you, now burying your face onto your face, "also, senpai," "hm?"

"you should take a nap for now, i think i can start understanding this formula," you slightly look up at him, "you sure? i was prolly talking craps just now," "yeah! your health is more important anyway,"

you hum, offering him a warm smile, "thanks, i know i can count on you," you rested onto your side and close your eyes. lips slightly parted and just like that, you're deep in your dreams.

he pursed his lips, slowly leaning against the table to look at your face. it's calm, peaceful and beautiful, kissable lips. he wonder if he could lean in a little closer until you two-

goshiki instantly jolted up and hit himself on the head, face's covered in the color red, 'no! don't think about that, curse you Tendou-San for introducing me to those mangas...'

Tendou's faces ran across his mind as he grunted,

'why're they so pretty??'

[thefloorisbalaclava]

Hello lovely! So a friend and I have been talking about Frankie lately and how damn adorable it would be if he were his kids little league baseball coach. Like, he passes down his old mitt to them from high school days (even though it’s comically too big for them) because it gave him good luck, and of course all the guys would come to support them (possibly Benny or Santi even trying to hit on the single moms because of course they would LOL) could possibly be in the neighbor!frankie universe with Gabi in their future some time? We just thought you’d be perfect to write these random ideas into something beautiful. If you have time or even like the idea of course!! ❤️❤️❤️

I hope you don’t mind me putting this in the mechanic!frankie AU! I think it’s a great way for reader and Frankie to bond a little more!

A/N: You run into your favorite mechanic while out running errands.

[mechanic!frankie masterlist]

You wandered aimlessly down the aisle of the store, randomly grabbing a box of cereal to throw into your cart as you whistled along to the song playing in your ear. As you rounded the corner, you ran into someone else’s cart. You quickly removed your earbuds to apologize.

“Oh! I am so- Frankie?!” It came out a little louder than you expected, making a few heads turn.

“I thought I was Frankie,” he joked and you rolled your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Just picking up a few things.” You looked at his cart. “You look like you’re picking up enough to feed a small army.”

“I kinda am.” He held his jacket open to show you his baseball jersey. “Got a game tonight and we’re gonna have a party after--win or lose. You’d be surprised how much those kids can eat.”

“Wait, are you telling me you coach little league?”

“I do, yeah.” He smiled proudly. “I used my own money to get the league started. I buy the uniforms and everything.”

“You didn’t tell me this last night.”

“Well, I was focused on other things,” he said and you giggled like a schoolgirl. “I had fun.”

“Me too and the food was delicious. Remember, next time I’m cooking for you,” you told him.

“Are you doing anything later?” he asked.

“Oh, wow, trying to get me to cook for you already, huh?” you teased.

“No,” he chuckled, “I was wondering if you’d like to come out and watch the game. Cheer us on a little.”

“I’ll be there. Where is it?” you asked and he told you. “Coach Frankie...it fits you.”

“Thanks.” He stood there silently for a moment. “Why is it always so hard to say goodbye to you?”

“I was just wondering the same thing. How about this? We won’t say goodbye just...see you later.”

“Okay then. See you later.”

“See ya, Coach Frankie.” You winked and pushed your cart past him and he watched until you were out of sight.

It was a nice day out so you decided to walk. The game was already underway by the time you got there, and you didn’t know it but Frankie had been scanning the bleachers for you. This time when he looked up and spotted you, he beamed and waved then turned back to all the kids that surrounded him. Once he was done, he walked over to the fence and waved you down.

“You made it,” he said.

“Yeah, sorry I’m late. I walked,” you told him.

“No umbrella?” he asked then looked up at the sky. “It’s gonna rain, you know. Can’t you smell it?”

“The weatherman said nothing about rain today.”

“He could be wrong...” Someone called his name and he turned. “I’ll see you after the game, okay? Don’t sit alone. My friends are up there.” He nodded to the group of guys sitting at the very top of the bleachers.

“Okay. Good luck, Coach.” You smiled and made your way up the bleachers.

“So you’re Frankie’s girl, huh?” one of the men asked. “I’m Benny, by the way.”

“Hi Benny. And I’ve met you, Santiago...right?” Santiago nodded and shook your hand.

“This is my brother William,” Benny said. You shook his hand too then sat down to watch the game. It made you smile to see Frankie enjoying himself, surrounded by children who obviously hung on every word he said. You didn’t hear him shout once aside from cheering for his team. At one point you got so into it that you stood up and cheered louder than anyone else. The guys snickered as you cleared your throat and sat back down.

They ended up winning the game and you all went down to congratulate them.

“What a win, Coach Frankie,” you said, giving him a high five.

“I think I might have had a good luck charm out there in the crowd,” he said and you looked down shyly. The guys came over and you stood back while they talked to him. Afterwards, Frankie reminded everyone of the little party he had put together in the park for them so you all walked over and enjoyed pizza and snacks with the team and their parents.

Frankie told you that you didn’t have to help clean but you wanted to. You weren’t exactly ready to say goodnight just yet. His friends said their goodbyes and his players all gave him a high five and a hug before leaving with their families.

When the last of the mess was thrown away, Frankie turned to you, lifting his cap to scratch at his head. “You mind if I walk you home?” he asked.

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Oops...almost forgot my umbrella.” He sprinted over to where he left it then made his way back to your side.

“You really brought an umbrella? It’s not going to rain,” you repeated.

“Yeah, it is. Here...let me show you. This is what my dad taught me.” He led you over to a tree. “You see when the wind blows and the backs of the leaves show? That means rain.”

“I see but...” You felt a raindrop on your head and Frankie shrugged.

“Told ya. Come on.” 

You two walked slowly through the park, taking the longer way around. “Maybe it won’t rain too bad.” No sooner had you said that than the skies opened up. You squealed and Frankie opened his umbrella as quickly as he could, pulling you under there with him.

“Think we can make it to the bridge?” he asked over the rain.

“I don’t know...” Suddenly he took your hand and pulled you along as he ran under the bridge then leaned against the stones to catch his breath.

“I...told...you,” he teased.

“Don’t rub it in,” you breathed. You smiled at him and he smiled back. He took his hat off and slicked his hair back before replacing it.

“At least it waited until after the game,” he said. He saw you hugging yourself and shrugged his jacket off before draping it over your shoulders. “There.”

“Thanks.” You pulled it around you tighter and were hit with a delightful smell. You closed your eyes and let yourself be surrounded by it. “Sandalwood,” you said out loud.

“Hm?”

“Your jacket...it smells like sandalwood,” you said.

“Oh yeah. One of my favorite scents,” he told you.

“Fits you. Very earthy and...” Your breath hitched as you noticed how close he was to you. “...you.”

“Very earthy and me?”

“Y-Yeah.” You two just stared at each other for awhile and you felt yourself being drawn to him, your body leaning towards his.

“Looks like it’s letting up,” he said suddenly, breaking the spell you were under.

“Oh...yeah, it does.” You tried to hide your slight disappointment.

“Shall we, my lady?” He offered his arm while he used the other to hold the umbrella. “Not my lady,” he amended, “I meant like...”

“I know what you meant. Let’s go.” You took his arm and moved as close as you could to get under the umbrella with him.

“I’m not used to this, you know,” he said after a few moments of silence. “I haven’t walked through the park like this since my wife died...” His words trailed off.

“Thank you for sharing something so special with me, Frankie.”

By the time he got you home, the rain had stopped and the sun had started to go down.

“Thank you for letting me walk you home.”

“Thank you for walking me home,” you countered and he chuckled.

“Can I call you tonight?” he asked.

“Of course. You can call whenever you like.”

“Great...awesome.” He walked backwards down the path. “Talk to you soon,” he said before turning away. As he walked along, he noticed he had started whistling I’m Singing in the Rain. He twirled his umbrella playfully and purposely jumped in a puddle.

“What a glorious feeling, and I’m happy again...” he sang to himself.

frankie taglist: @fakenoods @oldstuffnewstuff @the-bird-suit @lestrange2703 @findhimfives @windfallss @rach7 @surfsup666 @theghostwiththemost-babe @marshmallow–3 @mrschiltoncat @aplaceofpeace @josepedropascal @mitchi-c @jeeperky @allthingsnarcos @laymegentlytorest @stanfordscrush @fangirlingss @nathan-bateman @darthdumbasss @helga1031 @master-obi-wan-kenboneme @heythere80sbaby @deserttastesbitter @dindjstarin @mandodjarinn @frankie-stein18 @funkylittlebisexuall @16boyfriends-and-me @marvelousmermaid @slugbuggie @ladyblogger-margie @queenbbarnes @dodgerandevans @terrormonster55 @queridopascal @hells-bells-x @allmahfeels @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @blackberries45 @darnitdraco @nemo-my-name-forevermore @dindjarinneedsahug

permanent taglist: @magicsuperheroes @feelmyroarrrr @the-dazzling-urbanite @phoenixhalliwell @liveloudwriteloud @tumblogbykarapaloma @jaime1110 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pascal-isaac @dazedrhapsody @pascalisthepunkest @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @tiffdawg @freak-of-nature2002 @kingpascals @saltywintersoldat @theocatkov @mandilflorian @cyaredindjarin @themarcusmoreno @the-feckless-wonder @loki-098 @arabellathorne @dindisneydjarin @punkpascal @opheliaelysia @takens-world @huliabitch @stardelic @kandomeresbitch @havenforafrazzledmind @thisis-theway @stardust-galaxies @mrsparknuts @jedi-mando @frankiemorales @edencherries @lilkermit14 @virtualxjournality @thirstworldproblemss @emesispo @heresathreebee @tangledlove27 @marvgrrl @hayley-the-comet @insoucianttt @witchyavenger @coaaster @starless-eyes-remain @wanderlustmags @wonderfulfluffer @lv7867 @pedropasscals @pedroepascal @wigwitch @seasonschange-butpeopledont @theoria850 @roxypeanut @autumnleaves1991-blog @kenedyybrooklin @artsymaddie @dindjareen @silverfish-kingdom @heyitmelexie @gredandfeorgesgirl @mandaloriandindjarin @moonlight-prose @rosiefridayrogersunday @ssppoorrkk @amalie-buch @lucifer- @mstgsmy @randomness501 @darthadeline @youarenewformetoo @thehippiequilter @whovian-gurl @neverlandlibrarian @chibi-liz05 @dragons-of-the-usa @over300books @borderlinedindjarin @mudhornchronicles @cosmoschick @linkpk88 @lovingramsey @djvrins @escapedthesarlacc @coni-martina @pedrospunk @burrshottfirstt @jitterbugs927 @xserenax-13 @anatanotegami @doin-stuff @djarinsruni @aerolanya @icanbeyourjedi @bison-writes @strangelittlenobody @dinsbeskar @sarahjkl82-blog @neontiiger @houseofthirst @intu-witch-tion @ennuiandthebourgeoisie @littlebopper96 @boxdyeblonde @empressamidala @myheart-pedro @mtjoi @purplepascal042 @goalkeepernerd @rebelliouscat @leaiorganas @eternallyvenus @mandocrest @kellyozz @the-wishmonger @maythxthirstbxwithyou @andiebell2023 @moonlightburned @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @leonieb @freeshavocadoooo @auroraariza @kalimont83 @notabotiswear @martellthemandalor @beesting77 @medeasmiles @diaryofkali @mando-amando @venusdjarin @mystical-934 @blackmarketmummy @hauntedmama @mamacitapascal @insomniamamma @pedro4ever @greeneyedblondie44

i hope everyone is where they want to be! let me know if you want to be changed around! join a taglist here!

[jaskicr]

for buffskier, for some reason jaskier has to wear geralt’s armour (this is like @spielzeugkaiser’s art) and geralt realises that his armour fits jaskier extremely well. and also jaskier can lift his (rather heavy) sword and can also fight with it

i love a good clothes swap and i had a lot of fun writing it, so this got longer than expected, oops! (also known as: let me see how many of my favourite tropes i can gleefully shove into this) and thank you to @spielzeugkaiser for letting me write a ficlet inspired by their art<3

“No, no,” Jaskier says frantically. “That village - it’s not a good idea. Let’s find another place to get a contract.”

Geralt frowns. “Why not? There’s a well-paying contract there.”

"Trust me, it’s better if we find another one,” Jaskier insists. 

“There are no other villages that are within a day’s ride,” Geralt points out, annoyed. Why is Jaskier being so adamant?

Jaskier sighs, pinching his nose. “I’ve been there, okay? They weren’t very - receptive towards my songs. They loathe you.”

“That’s not news,” Geralt comments dryly.

“You don’t get it, Geralt.” Jaskier rakes a hand through his hair, frustrated. “The Blaviken thing - they’re really, really set on that.”

“We need to stock up on supplies, and we’re basically out of coin,” Geralt grumbles. They could camp for the night, but it really wouldn’t be ideal. Besides, Geralt is used to the boundless hate thrown at him for Blaviken. This will just be another hateful town, and he can handle it. “I need to take the contract, Jaskier.”

Jaskier throws his hands up with another loud sigh. “Geralt -”

“I’m used to it.” It’s the truth, but familiar anger ignites in Jaskier’s eyes at the thought of the injustice directed towards Geralt, and it warms Geralt to see Jaskier so protective of him, even if it isn’t anything either of them can change.

“They truly hate you, Geralt, and I don’t want you to be subjected to that.” Jaskier’s voice is concerned, worried. “If only we could…” his voice trails off, and he murmurs, “oh.”

“What?” Geralt asks warily. There’s a glint in Jaskier’s eyes that Geralt has come to recognise as Jaskier having one of his ideas, ideas that usually end in disaster.

“What if...” Jaskier pauses, grinning, which does not bode well. “Gods, I’m a genius. They’ve never seen you, so they don’t know what you look like.”

“... And?”

“Well, they’re expecting the Butcher of Blaviken to be a white-haired, golden-eyed witcher with big fuck-off swords and a surly demeanour,” Jaskier rambles, eyes brightening. “But if we swap clothes, and I pretend to be a witcher and you can pretend to be a bard, then they won’t suspect anything!”

“That’s...” stupid, Geralt wants to say, but as crazy as Jaskier’s idea sounds, Geralt needs to take the contract, and as much as he hates to admit it, Jaskier’s idea is likely their best shot. Gods, is he really going to go along with one of Jaskier’s harebrained schemes? 

“It’s genius, isn’t it?” Jaskier says with a proud smile on his face, looking expectantly at Geralt. “We can waltz into town, me as a witcher and you as a bard, take the contract, you can slay the monster, then I can collect the payment, pretending to have killed the monster. It’s perfect!”

Jaskier’s idea is one of his better ones, though Geralt is still dubious about pulling it off. “Our clothes won’t fit each other.”

“Oh, trust me,” Jaskier reassures him confidently. “They will.”

After some needling from Jaskier, Geralt eventually gives in reluctantly, softening slightly when Jaskier sends him a triumphant grin. He doubts that this will work - after all, his armour will likely be too big for Jaskier, and Jaskier’s frivolous, vibrant clothes will undoubtedly be too small for him, but Geralt always gives in to Jaskier in the end. It won’t work, but Geralt might as well let Jaskier indulge for a few moments. 

They turn their backs to one another as they strip off their clothes to swap with each other, and Geralt can’t stop his eyes from wandering over to Jaskier. Jaskier’s doublet is strewn on the ground, and when he pulls his shirt over his head, Geralt’s mouth goes dry.

Jaskier’s back is unexpectedly broad, the strength evident in the width of his shoulders, and Geralt sucks in a breath as Jaskier bends over to take off his trousers, his firm bottom directly in Geralt’s view, and as Jaskier pushes his trousers down, Geralt gets an eyeful of thighs that are thick with muscle, built up over long hours of walking, and strong, shapely calves.

Geralt hurriedly whips his head around, his face heating up suddenly. 

Well. That had certainly been unexpected. 

Where had Jaskier been hiding all of that?

Geralt keeps his mind on taking his own clothes off, determinedly not thinking about the sight he’d just seen. When Jaskier’s clothes land next to him with a thump, Geralt tosses his own armour over his shoulder, and it takes every ounce of his willpower to not turn around and catch another glimpse of that expanse of tantalising skin. 

Picking up Jaskier’s cream-coloured shirt and sky blue trousers, Geralt eyes them dubiously, reluctant to put them on. They’re rather too bright for his taste, and Geralt fears that he might accidentally rip Jaskier’s clothing - though after what he’d seen earlier, that doesn’t seem to be the case. 

Geralt gingerly pulls the sky blue trousers on, grimacing inwardly at the way the too-bright colour stands out against his pale skin. To his surprise, his legs slide in without much resistance, and he barely has to struggle for the trousers to fit, with the trousers only squeezing his calves and his ass the slightest bit. 

He hadn’t expected to be able to squeeze into Jaskier’s trousers, and certainly hadn’t expected them to fit so well. They’re slightly short on him, though not by much, since he and Jaskier are nearly of height, and Jaskier’s trousers don’t fit that much tighter than his own. 

Less tentative now, Geralt pulls on Jaskier’s shirt. Like the trousers, it’s a slightly tight fit, particularly around the chest and shoulders, but not tight enough to be uncomfortable, and looking down at himself, Geralt finds himself once again surprised at just how well Jaskier’s clothes fit him. 

Behind him, Jaskier lets out a teasing whistle. “Well, would you look at that lovely bottom.”

Groaning, Geralt turns around. “Jaskier, why -” He chokes on his own spit when he sees Jaskier before him, decked out in black leather. “Unf.”

The armour fits well. Very well. Unlike what Geralt had expected, the armour doesn’t hang loosely off Jaskier’s body but hugs it perfectly, fitting almost as well as Jaskier's own tailored clothes. The bulk of Geralt’s armour only serves to make Jaskier seem more broad, a hulking, dangerous presence. 

Geralt had thought that his armour would hang from Jaskier’s shoulders in an unflattering way, too loose to be practical, practically drowning him in fabric. Instead, the armour clings to Jaskier’s body in all the right ways, drawing Geralt’s eyes to the wide expanse of Jaskier’s shoulders and the thickness of his biceps. Geralt’s trousers are pulled taut over Jaskier’s thighs, the strength in them clearly visible through the tight fabric. 

For a moment, Geralt sees another witcher looking back at him, broad-shouldered and strong, ready to take down the monsters that roam the Continent, but the illusion is shattered when Jaskier sends him a slow, lazy grin. 

“Well, it seems that you’re wrong,” Jaskier purrs, prowling towards Geralt, and he makes quite a sight, looming and lethal as he approaches Geralt, and Geralt has to swallow down an involuntary gulp. Gods preserve him. “Our clothes fit each other quite well. Extremely well.”

His eyes rake down the length of Geralt’s body, something almost hungry sparking in his gaze as it lingers on the way his shirt is stretched just slightly too tight around Geralt’s chest, the way his blue trousers cling to Geralt’s legs and ass, and Geralt had to fight the urge to hide himself from a look so predatory that he feels as if he’s being sized up for a meal.

“Yeah, um, yes,” Geralt stammers, and why is he stammering? He tries again, grasping for words that elude him with every second he’s graced with the sight of Jaskier in his armour. “Hm. I - yes.”

“Yeah?” Jaskier’s eyes are sparkling, and Geralt gets the distinct impression that Jaskier is laughing at him. 

“We, uh - your plan worked,” Geralt mumbles. He wants to avert his gaze, wants to duck his head in embarrassment, but his eyes refuse to leave Jaskier, desperately drinking him in. “We can, uh…”

Jaskier chuckles. “Let’s head into the village then. Better not waste any time.”

“Yes,” Geralt says faintly, watching as Jaskier heads over to where Geralt’s swords are laid out. “Uh, right. Can you, uh, lift them?”

Jaskier raises an eyebrow, bending down and reaching for the swords, and sweat beads at Geralt’s temple as the tight leather trousers pull tight around Jaskier’s ass. “Lift them? Of course I can, my dear witcher - or my dear bard, I should say - they’re not that heavy.”

He closes his hands around each sword, one steel and one silver, hefting them thoughtfully in his hands. Geralt realises with a start that Jaskier is holding his swords like he knows what to do with them, like he’s fought with swords before. Jaskier keeps surprising him today, it seems.

Jaskier slides the swords into the sheaths on his back with practised ease, then grins at Geralt. “Well, my darling bard, shall we?”

My darling bard, Jaskier purrs with a low tone that makes Geralt’s too-slow heart beat just a little too fast, and Geralt swallows at how easily Jaskier refers to him as his. 

“W - what?” Gods, he really is distracted, and Jaskier smirks at him. 

“We need to take the contract, Geralt,” Jaskier reminds him, amusement dancing across his face. “Come on, grab my lute, and we can go.”

“Right,” Geralt mutters, turning away to hide the way his cheeks are burning. The weather is really quite hot today. Reaching for Jaskier’s lute, he slings it over his shoulder the way he’s watched Jaskier do thousands of times, and heads towards Roach, getting ready to leave. 

“You look good as a bard,” Jaskier murmurs, and Geralt startles, turning back to look at him in surprise. Jaskier winks at him, and surely Geralt’s eyes must be deceiving him, because Jaskier has that glint in his eye when he flirts with young men and women that catch his fancy - now, that glint and that wink are directed at Geralt, and gods, the weather is really hot. Maybe he should go take a dip in a stream later. 

Maybe he can even ask Jaskier to join him, and watch as water drips down his body, the droplets clinging to the bare lines of his muscles, and why the fuck is Geralt even thinking this?

Shaking the tempting image from his mind, Geralt croaks out, “We should. Uh. Let’s go.” 

His face still feels too hot as he clambers on Roach, resolutely not looking at Jaskier as they set out towards the town. Despite his efforts, images of Jaskier’s body bombard his mind - his wide back, his strong thighs, his shapely ass, and Geralt has to make a concentrated effort to stay on Roach. 

Though it wouldn’t be a hardship if he were to fall off Roach and have Jaskier catch him in those strong, thick arms -

And Geralt needs to get a fucking grip. One look at his surprisingly muscular friend and now it’s all he can focus on. 

When they finally arrive at the village, Geralt is beyond grateful for something else to distract his thoughts from how they’re spiralling into increasingly inappropriate territory. Jaskier is his travelling companion, his best friend, for gods’ sake, Geralt shouldn’t be thinking this about him. 

The villagers bristle with thinly veiled hostility as they pass, glaring at Jaskier, and Geralt hunches his shoulders and ducks his head, doing his best to hide his eyes, but no one pays him any mind. Their eyes slide over Geralt’s colourful clothing and lute to rest hatefully on Jaskier, who strides on with a blank mask on his face, unbothered by their stares, looking every part a dangerous, deadly witcher. 

Geralt can practically touch the hostility that thrums in the air, his enhanced hearing catching snatches of witcher and mutant and butcher, and he grudgingly admits that Jaskier was right - had they not swapped their clothes, Geralt would’ve been chased out of the village for being the Butcher of Blaviken. While the town is clearly not welcoming towards witchers, they’re likely making an exception for any witcher who isn’t Geralt.

They head into the village’s biggest tavern, and Geralt hangs back as Jaskier stalks up to the man who’d put out the contract, listening to the details of the monster - a few nekkers, nothing too dangerous - as Jaskier negotiates payment far more skilfully than Geralt could ever have done. After a few minutes, Jaskier returns to Geralt, and they leave the tavern with distrustful gazes on their backs.

“It doesn’t sound like a big nest,” Geralt murmurs, just loud enough for Jaskier to hear. “Let’s deal with it and get out of here.”

“How did you - ah, witcher hearing, yes, silly me.” Jaskier scans their surroundings warily. “If we get changed in the forest, you can take care of them and then we can change back, collect our gold, buy what we need, and leave. No one will even suspect anything.”

Geralt frowns as Jaskier steers them in the direction of the forest. “But the nest is in the forest, it might not be safe -”

“It’ll be fine,” Jaskier dismisses, waving a hand. “We’ll just make sure to be quick.”

Geralt wants to disagree, but he keeps his mouth shut as they head into the forest, trying to tell himself that it’ll be fine. After all, it’s not like the nest will be that close to the village anyway. They’ll be fine.

“We just need to be far enough from the village that no one sees,” Jaskier says cheerfully as they wander deeper into the forest. “Then you can go do your witchering -”

Then Geralt feels a rumble beneath his feet, and he barely has the time to shout out Jaskier’s name before several nekkers burst from the ground, surrounding them.

“Fuck!” Geralt curses. He’s not in armour, his sword is with Jaskier, who’s too far away for Geralt to get to in time, and Jaskier is drawing the silver sword, what the fuck is he doing -

Two nekkers leap at Jaskier, and even as Geralt raises his hand to cast Aard, he knows it’s too late to stop them from tearing into Jaskier - but then Jaskier dodges them easily, slashing Geralt’s sword through the air, decapitating one of the nekkers, and Geralt’s jaw drops at the skill and speed with which Jaskier handles his sword.

Geralt doesn’t have much time to stare in shock, however, as he detects a few nekkers trying to ambush him from behind, and he casts Aard to blast them back. He has his signs, at least, and with the nekkers pushed away from him, he quickly glances towards Jaskier just in time to see him run his sword through a nekker’s chest, then duck under a swipe from another nekker, rolling up behind it to deliver a deadly gash to it with his sword, and just like that, Jaskier has dispatched all the nekkers that had surrounded him.

Something burns in Geralt at the sight of Jaskier in his armour, wielding his swords, easily holding his own against a pack of monsters, and Geralt pushes it to the side for the moment. He has no time for distractions.

“Jaskier,” he calls, his hands ready to cast a sign as he watches the nekkers from earlier recovering from Aard, and Jaskier, as always, understands what Geralt wants before he says it, and tosses the sword to Geralt.

Geralt catches it just in time to slash his sword across a nekker’s throat, leaving one nekker snarling viciously at him. It lunges at him, and Geralt dodges its attack, swinging his sword and managing to catch it in the throat, but he’s so preoccupied with it that he doesn’t notice the shift in the air behind him until it’s too late.

Geralt braces himself for the pain of deadly claws digging into his back, but nothing comes, and he turns to see Jaskier standing behind him, Geralt’s steel sword in his hand as the head of a nekker thuds to the ground.

“You’re welcome,” Jaskier says, only sounding slightly out of breath. “Well, wouldn’t you say that this contract has gone rather swimmingly?”

Geralt can’t answer, unable to formulate a response as he stares at Jaskier, standing before him with a triumphant smile, Geralt’s sword in his hand and Geralt’s clothes on his body, and well, Geralt had always been rather attracted to competence, and what Jaskier had done…

“You can. Fight?” Geralt stutters dumbly, tongue like lead in his mouth as his mind replays the last few minutes of Jaskier swinging his sword with an expertise that few can match, of how Jaskier had managed to hold his considerably heavy sword far longer than most humans can, of the way Jaskier’s thighs had tensed underneath those tight trousers when he’d crouched before lunging at the nekkers.

Jaskier shrugs, the movement drawing Geralt’s gaze to the breadth of his shoulders as he slides the steel sword back into its sheath in one smooth motion. “You sound surprised.”

“I… didn’t know,” Geralt says slowly. Since when has Jaskier been able to fight?

“I never told you, because you never asked,” Jaskier admits with a rueful smile. “It was worth the look on your face, though. You still look rather dumbstruck, my bard.”

Geralt opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I…”

Jaskier’s eyes gleam, and he stalks towards Geralt with predatory intent, mouth curling in a lazy grin. “Why, Geralt,” he purrs, stopping just in front of Geralt. He reaches out and captures Geralt’s chin in one hand, forcing his gaze up from where it had been wandering down Jaskier’s body. “You like this, don’t you?”

“Like what?” Geralt manages, held in place by the force of Jaskier’s gaze, their faces too close together for Geralt’s brain to work properly.

Jaskier laughs. “You do,” he murmurs, and for a moment, Geralt holds his breath, waiting for something -

But then Jaskier steps away, releasing his grip on Geralt’s chin, and some part of Geralt mourns the warmth. “Let’s go,” Jaskier says, casual as ever, like he hadn’t been pressed close to Geralt just a moment ago. He starts walking back to town, leaving Geralt staring after him, frozen in place.

He doesn’t move for several moments, blinking at Jaskier’s retreating back, and his eyes involuntarily wander downwards, appreciating the way his own tight trousers do wonders for accentuating Jaskier’s thick thighs and firm ass. It’s only when Jaskier turns his head back to look at Geralt with a raised eyebrow that Geralt is pulled out of his trance, realising that his mouth had fallen open rather embarrassingly when he’d been ogling Jaskier’s assets.

“You coming?” Jaskier calls, and there’s something teasing in his voice, a quirk in his smile that hints at a promise of more, a whisper of later, and Geralt’s breathing stutters.

And as he stumbles after Jaskier, who’s still clad in Geralt’s armour and looking unfairly good as he struts in front of Geralt, all he can think is, gods, he’s going to kill me.

dkjfgn i made geralt very, very thirsty. this was so utterly self indulgent and i just threw in a bunch of my favourite tropes lmao

update: here’s the sequel!:)